Absyâ—tus limbs whom she had taken with her thereby to stay her father while he gathered up his Sons bones And so at length safely arriving in Thessaly Iason renewed his Father Aesons age by Medeas help who also made Pelias Daughters kill their Father For pretending that she would make him young as she had done Aeson she perswaded his Daughters with a knife to let out all his old black blood that she might infuse new fresh blood instead thereof His Daughters having done so Pelias straightway dyed Iason hereupon or for some other cause repudiates Medea and marries Creusa the daughter of Creon King of Corinth Medea herewith enraged Writes to Iason expostulating with him of his ingratitude and threatens speedy revenge unless he receive her again MEDEA to JASON AT that time Queen of Corinth I did raign When thou didst seek by my art help to gain I wish my thred of life which then was â—pun By the three sisters had been cut and done Then might Medea have dy'd innocent My life since then hath been a punishment Woe 's me that ere the lusty youth of Greece Sail'd hither for to fetch the golden Fleece Would Colchos never had their Argos seen Would the Grecians ne're on our shoar had been Why was I with thy lovely brown hair took Or with thy tempting tongue and comely look Or at least when thy ship came to our shore Bringing thy self with gallants many more I might have let thee run and found a death By those fiery Oxen with their flaming breath I might have suffer'd thee to sow that seed Whence armed men did spring up and proceed That the sower might by his own tillage die When each ear of coâ—â—e did prove an enemy They had prevenâ—ed then thy treâ—chery And kept me both from grie ' and misery To upbraid thy ingratitude pleases me In this alone I can triumph o're thee For when thy ship arrived at the shore Of Colchâ—s where it nâ—re had been before O then Medâ—a was beloved there Of thee as thy new wife 's bâ—loved here My father was as rich as hers he raign'd O're Corinth which 'twixt two Seas is contain'd My father possess'd all the Land which lay Between Ponâ—us and snowy â—cythiâ— My father did thy Grecians entertain Affording lodging to thee and thy train I saw thee then then did of thee enquire And then thy love did sâ—t my heart on fire I saw thee and that sight to love did turn While my heart did like a great Taper burn Thy beauty drew me to my destin'd fate And thy fair eyes my eyes did captivate Which thou percevid'st for who can love conceale Whose glowing flame doth it own selfe reveale My father then commanded thee to yoak Those Oxen that were to the plough ne're broak For they were Mars his Oxen whose horns werâ— Sharp and their breath did like a flame appear They had brasse hooâ—â— and nostrils arm'd with brass Blackt with the breath that through them did passe And thou wert bid to sow in the large field That seed which did an armed â—eo â—e yield VVhich sprung up would assail thee straight again Thou for thy harvest such a crâ—p shouldst gain And thy last labour was to charm a sleep The Dragon that the golden â—eece did keep When Aeetâ—s said thus you all stâ—aight rose And every one much discontentment showes So that you did your purple seats forsake And then the Table they away did take Greaâ— Creens daughter thou didst now contemn And Câ—â—â—sas dowry could not help thee then Sadly thou didst depart and discontent yet my weeping eyes on thee still were bent And as thou wâ—ntst away this one word sell In a soâ—t murmure from my tongue Farewell And when I went to bed I never slept Wounded with love all nighâ— I griev'd and wept The fieâ—ce Bulls were alwaâ—es before my eyes And the Armed mâ—n which from the earth did rise And then the watchfull Dragon did affright My senses and was still before my sight Thus love and fear my breast at once did trouble My love of thee did make my fear to double At last it chanced that early in the morning My loving sister came and found me mourning And lying on my face with all my hair Loose spread the pillow wet with many a tear She and two sisters more did me invade With fair entreaties foâ— to help and aid Iason and his Thesâ—alians who did want My assistance I in love their suit did grant There is a wood so dark with thick-leav'd trees That the bright Sun but seldome through it sees There doth a Chappel of Diana's stand VVhose golden statue there was rudely fram'd I know not whether this place is by thee Forgotten as thou hast forgotten me VVe being thither come thou then didst break Thy mind to me and thus beganst to speak My life and fortunes are at thy command My life and death are both within thy hand you may let me perish if so be you will But 't is more noble to preserve then kill Then by my present sorrows I entreat Which you can ease if you the word would speak By thy kindred and uncle Phoebus who Sees all things that on earth we mortals do By Diana's triple-sace and sacred rites And Gods wherein this Nation delights O Virgin have some pity at this time On me and make me so for ever thine And though I cannot hope the gods should be So kind and favourable unto mee yet if you would be pâ—eased now to take A Tâ—essalian and him a husband make Then I do promise I will faithfull be And vow that I will marry none but thee Let Iuno be a witnesse to my vow And Diâ—na in whose Tempâ—e we are now Thou took'st me by the hand those words of thine A maidens fancy did straight way inâ—â—ine For such thy languâ—ge was as soon did move My honest heart to entertain thy love By thy deceitfull tears I was betrayed For they had â—ower to betray a Maid So that the â—ulls whose breath like flames did smoaâ—â— I taught thee how to tame and how to yoak And thou did'st sow the Dragons teeth for seed Whence armed â—â—n did spring up and proceed I that did give thee those securing â—â—arms Grew pale to see those new-sâ—â—ung men in armes When straight those earth-bred brethren there in â—â—ght Did sâ—ay each other in a bloody fight The watchful Dragon now the earth did sweep While he upon his scaly breast did creep Where was the Dowry of thy royal wife Or King of Corinth could they save thy life No it was I that now am thus rejected And as a poor Enchantresse disrespected I charmâ—d the Dragons flaming eyes asleep That thou mightst get the Fleece which he did keep My Father I betray'd and I forsook My Countrey and with thee a voyage took Though my life a sad banishment should be I was content to wander still with thee Thou of my Maiden-head didst me deceive Who my Mother and my
is my intent If to be cruel to me thou art bent For I do wish thou couldst behold or see In what sad posture I do write to thee One hand to write unto thee doth afford The other hand doth hold thy Trojan sword And down my cheeks the trickling tears do slide On the sword which shal with my blood be dy'd It was thy fatal gift and it may be To send me to my grave thou gav'st it me And though this first do wound my outward part Yet cruel love long since did wound my heart O sister Anna thou that counselld'st me To yeeld to love shalt now my funeral see On th'urne to which my ashes they commit Elisa wife to Sichaeus shall be writ And these two verses shall engraven be Upon the marble that doth cover me Aeneas did to me my death afford For Dido kill'd her self with his own sword The Argument of the eighth Epistle HErmionâ— the daughter of Mâ—nelaus and Helena was by Tyndarus her Grandfather by the mothers side to whom Menelaus had committed the government of his house while he went to Troy betroathed to Oristes the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra Her fathâ—r Menelaus not knowing thereof had betroathed her to Pyrrhus the son of Achilles who at last returned from the Trojan wars stole away Hermione But she haâ—ing Pyrrhus and loving Orestes admonishes him by this Letter that she might be easily taken from Pyrrhus and she obtained her desire For Orestes being freed from his madness for murdering Aegysthus and his mother he slew Pyrrhus in Apollo's Temple and took her again HERMIONE to ORESTES HErmione writes to him that was of late Her husband now anothers wife by fate Pyrrhus Achilles stout son takes delight To keep me from thee against law and right I did strive with him but my force did fail A womans strength could not 'gainst him prevail Pyrrhus quoth I what dost thou do ere long My Lord on thee will surely revenge this wrong But of Orestes name he would not hear But drag'd me home even by my loosen'd hair Should the barbarous foe Lacedemon take He could but thus of me a captive make And conquering Greece us'd not Andromache When they set fire of Troy as he us'd me But Orestes if th' art toucht with this despight Then fetch me back again I am thy right To fetch thy stollen cattel thou wilt go Why then to fetch thy wife art thou so slow By thy father why dost not example take VVho by a just war did his wife fetch back Had he led in his Court an idle life Thy mother then had been young Paris wife If thou do come thou needst not to provide A fleet or store of Souldiers beside Yet so I might be fetched back again A husband for his wife may war maintain And Atreus was Uncle unto either So that thou art my husband and my brother O! husband then and brother help thou me For these two names implore some help of thee My grand-father Tyndarus grave in his life Deliver'd me unto thee as thy wife My father unto Pyrrhus promis'd me But my grand-father would dispose of me When I marry'd thee I did to none belong If Pyrrhus marry me he doth thee wrong My father will let us love and enjoy For he was wounded by the winged boy And will permit us to love one another In the like sort as he did love my mother As he my mothers husband was thou art My husband Pyrrhus playeth Paris part Though he boast deeds were by his father done Thy father by his actions fame hath won Achilles did for a common souldier stand But Agamemnon Captains did command Pelops and his father thy Ancestors were Thou art but five descents from Iupiter Nor didst thou courage want though thou didst kill Thy father and his precious blood didst spill Would thy valour had been happilier employ'd Though he were unwillingly by thee destroy'd For thou Aegystus kill'dst unluckily And didst fulfill thy hapless fate thereby When Achilles urgeth this one fault of thine And before me doth make it a great crime My blushing colour and my heart doth rise And my old love revives and glowing lies Within my brest if that Orestes be By any one accused to Hermione For then I have no strength in any part As if a sword were thrust into my heart I weep and then my tears my anger show Which like two Rivers down my bosome flow Plenty of tears I only have which rise Wetting my cheeks from the springs of my eyes And this sad fate which happens unto me Hath been the fortune of our family I need not tell how Iupiter became To deceive us a fair and milk-white Swan Hoâ— Hippodamia in a strangers Chariot Over the Hellespont was swiftly carried My mother Hellen in Paris took delight For whom the Grecians ten whole years did fight My Grandfather my Sister and each brother Began to weep for the loss of my mother And Leda did her earnest prayers prefer Unto the gods and to her Iupiter While I did tear my hair and to her cry'd Mother must I without you here abide And lest that I should not be thought to be Of Peleus most unhappy progeny My mother being with Paris gone away I unto Pyrrhus was soon made a prey If Achilles had escap'd Apollo's bow He would have then condemn'd his son I know He knew by Briseâ— loss which he could not brook That from their husbands wives should not be took Why are the gods thus cruel unto me What sad star rul'd at my Nativity For in my younger years I was berest Of my mother and was of my father left Who went unto the wars yet ne'retheless Although they liv'd yet I was Parentless Nor could delight my mother as you see Children will do with stammering flattery Nor round about her neck my weak armes clap While she would fondly set me on her lap Nor did she teach me how to dress my head Nor did she bring me to my marriage bed For when she did return truth I le not smother I did not know her then to be my mother I knew that she was Helen by her beauty She knew not me when as I did my duty 'Mongst all these miseries I most happy am That Orestes for my husband I did gain Yet he alas shall from me taken be Unless he do fight for himself and me Pyrrhus hath took me and doth me enjoy This is all I got by the fall of Troy Yet while the Sun with his bright rayes doth shine My sorrows are more gentle all that time But when at night with grief I go to bed And on my pillow rest my weary head The tears when I should entertain soft sleep Spring in my eyes and I begin to weep And from my husbands side as far off lye As if he were to me an enemy Sometimes through grief forgetting where I am I have toucht some part of Pyrrhus and again I have pluckt back my hand for I
again but there was none Then with my wretched hand I strook my breast And tore my loosen'd hair that was undrest The Moon shin'd bright so that I looked o're To the sea-ward but saw nothing but the shore Now here and there confusedly I ran The heavy sand did my swift feet detain At last â— called Theseus on the shore The hollow Rocks thy Name did back restore The eccho call'd as many times as I And seem'd to help me in my misery There was a Mountain topt with some few bushes Under whose rocky sides the Sea still rushes On it I clamber'd up love gave me strength Whence I could see far unto sea at length From hence for I the winds did cruel find Discâ—rn'd a ship that sail'd with the North wind I saw it or I thought I did behold Iâ— which did make my heart half dead and cold Yet sorrow would not suffer me to lie Long in this Trance but comming out of 't I Cry'd out O Theseus whither dost thou run Return O Theseus and to me back come Turn back thy ship again for to take me Thou wantest one yet of thy company Thus did I cry and strike my breast betwixt While blows and words were both together mixt Though thou could'st not hear me yet I did stand Spreading my armes abroad upon the land That thou might see me and a white flag hung To make thee see me who from me did'st run Thy ship at last did sail quite out of my sight And then the tears ran down my cheeks outright For how could my sad eyes but chuse to weep After thy sails out of my sight did slâ—p Abroad I wander'd with loose flowing hair Like women that by Bacchus enraged are Sometimes I looking unto sea would sit On a stone as void as the stone of wit Then to the bed I walkt where he had lain Which never should receive us more again And it a pleasure unto me did seem To touch the warm place where thy limbs had been And in the very place I down would lye With weeping tears and thus begin to cry Sweet bed we both have lain on thee together As two lay down two should have risen together But I on this forsaken Isle am left Of men and all humanity bereft The sea encompasseth this Island round No ship or Pilot from this Isle is bound Suppose I could a ship and wind command I dare not sail back to my Fathers land Though my ship through the smooth sea did glide on And winds stood fair I am banisht from home And from Creet that a hundred Cities had Where Iove was nursed when he was a lad I betrai'd my Father by that plot I fram'd And Country where he long uprightly reignd And lest thou in the Labyrinth hadst dy'd Gave thee a Clue of thred thy steps to guide By those past dangers thou didst swear to me That thou while I did live would'st constant be I live and find thee false if 't may be said She lives that by a false man is betray'd Would thy Club had kill'd me as 't did my brother Then in my death thou all my wrongs might'st smother Now I conceive what I must suffer here And what I may endure doth urge my fear A thousand shapes of death methinks I see The fear or death is worse then death can be Now lest some Wolfe should come I am in fear Who with his greedy teeth my limbs should tear Perhaps this land doth yellow Lyons breed And cruel Tygers from this Isle proceed Perhaps great sea-calves on the shore abide Or else the sword may pierce my tender side Or like a Captive I may be enchain'd And unto servile labour be constrain'd Whose Father Minos was and whose Mother Was Phoebâ—s daughter which I need not smother And that which rather should remember'd be That I was once betrothed unto thee If I look to the shore the land or sea The sea and land do seem to threaten me If to heaven to the gods I dare not pray But I am left unto the wild beasts a prey The men that here inhabit I distrust Being deceiv'd by thee my fears are just I wish now that Androgeus did live Whose death occasion of that tax did give I wish O Theseus thy Club had not slain The monster half a beast and half a man Would I had not given thee a Clew of thred By which thy steps in coming back were led I wonder not thou got'st the victory Or that thâ—s Cretâ—â— beast was slain by thee Thou hadst an iron breast which was so arm'd So that thou couldst not by his hornes be harm'd Sure an obdurate Adamant was i' nt And Theseus was all o're as hard as flint O cruel sleep why did I slumbering lye Would I had slept unto eternity O cruel winds why did ye stand so fair As if ye did desire to breed my care O cruel hand of thine which hath slain me And my poor brother by infidelity My sleep the wind and thou did all conspire And to betray a maid did all desire Now at my death my mother shall not weep Nor close mine eyes up in eternal sleep My hapless ghost shall wander in the ayre To embalme my body no friend shall care Sea-Vultures shall upon my carcass light For I shall have at all no funeral Rite But unto Athens when thou art come home Then thou sitting upon thy royal Throne Shalt tell how thou the Minotaure didst slay Out of the Labyrinth â—â—nding the right way And tell amongst thy acts how thou hast left Me on this Island of all help bereft Aegeus nor yet Aethra cannot be Thy Parents Rocks were Parents unto thee If from thy ships decks thou hadst spied me My sad looks unto pity had mov'd thee Think now thou seest me standing on a Rock Whose chalky sides the beating waves do mock See how my hair is o're my shoulders spread My garments wet with tears that I have shed And how my body trembling too and fro Like shaking corne which the North wind doth blâ—w Or like some miss-shap'd Letter I do stand That hath been written by a trembling hand To urge my merit I dare not presume No thanks are due to service that is done Yet there 's no reason thou shouldst punish me With death because from death I saved thee To thee my hands I heave up and do spread Which with beating my breast are wearied I entreat thee by my hair which I do spread And by my tears for thy unkindness shed Turn back thy ship O Theseus for my sake Though I am dead my carcass with thee take The Argument of the eleventh Epistle MAcareus and Canace the son and daughter of Aeolus King of the winds did love one another thinking to colour over their incestuous fault with natural affection Canace brought forth a son and sending it out of the Court to be nuâ—st abroad the unhappy infant â—ryed and so discovered it self to his Grandfather who incensed
needst not â—etter me with iron chains He serveth willingly whom love constrains When thou hast satisfyed thy wrath on me Thou wilt then say how patâ—ent is he And noting my patience say since I see That he can serve so well he shall serve me I know thou dost condemn me in absence And my good cause doth want a just defence That only which I on the Apple writ Is my offence yet love ndited it Besiâ—es Diaâ—a should not mocked be Keep thy promise with her though not with me She saâ— the blush â—hen as thou art deceiv'd And she did heaâ— those words which thou didst read And who can be more violent than shâ— To those that do prophane her Majâ—sty Who more angry than Alâ—hâ—â— with her son Mâ—re â—eâ—ce then was the Boar of Calydon She made â—cteonâ— hounds their Master hunt As he with them to chase wild beasts was wont She did Nâ—â—bâ— to a stone transforme Which in Bythinia stands and seems to mourn Cydâ—ppâ— I dare not speak truth to thee Let my admonishment seem false to be yet I must speak her wrath inflicts on thee This sicknesse when that thou should'st marri'd be From perjury shee 'd have thee keep thy self By sicknesse she would bring thy mind to health And when to break thy vow thou wouldst begin She keeps thee from committing of that sin Then do not thou Diâ—â—â— more incense She may be brought to remit thy offence That so thy feaver may not quite destroy Thy beauty sav'd that I may it enjoy Preserve that beauty which my love fiâ—st bred Where snowy whitenesse shaddoweth the reâ— May those would croâ—â—e our love endure that pain VVhich I while thou art sick do now sustain I would not have thee sick nor married be I know not which of theâ—e would most grieve me Somâ—times it grieâ—eth me that I should grieve thee And that I did so cunningly deceive thee For my mistris's â—erjury O punish me ye gods froâ— punishment let her be free And sometimes I occasion take to go By the door that I may know how you do And in a secret maâ—ner enquiring keep Of your maid how you cat and take your sleep I would I hâ—d been a Physitian bred To feel thy pulse and sit upon thy bed And wo is me that I must absent be While that my rival is perhaps with thâ—e He holds thy hand and sits on thy beds side Who is by all the gods and me envy'd And while that he tâ—y beating pulse doth try Thy white arm he doth often touch thereby He handles thee and then perhaps a kisse Rewards his service with toâ— great a blisâ—e Who hath permitted thee to reap my crop And take away the fruits of all my hope Her self and Kisses thou must understand Are mine by promise then take off thy hand Take ofâ— thy hand for she my own shâ—ll be Unlesse thou wilt commit adultery Some other Maiden chuse that yet is free For of her tenemen I must Land-lord be Thou may'st believe our covenants if not mâ— To shew they 're firm let her read them to thee Therefore thou hast no right I say to thee Vnto her marriage bed 't is kept for me Though her Father to thee dip her assign Yet thy right cannot be so good as mine Her Fathes did betroth her unto thee But she her self did give her self to me He promis'd before men she should be thine She promis'd before Diana she would be mine He breaks his word she violates her oath And dost thou dote which is the worst of both Lastly consider what the event may be For he 's in health but sick in bed is she In our contentions too much ods there are Thy hope is not like mine nor yet thy fear Thy love is not so dangerous but I If I should suffer a repulse must dye Perhaps that hereafter thou wilt approve her But it is I that now do clearly love her Therefore in justice that same love of thine Vnto my love all title should resign Since for thy love he unjustly doth contend Cydippe why do I this Letter send Diana for his sake doth thee afflict Forbid him then thy house if thou hast wit And for his sake this sicknesse light on thee May he that causeth it so punish'd be For if thou wilt his fained love reject And not love whom the goddesse doth not respect Thou shalt then presently regain thy health When thou art well I shall be well my self Fear not sweet Maid thou shalt have thy health now If to the goddesse thou wilt keep thy vow The heavenly powers our sacrifices scorne Unless we faithfully our vowes perform Yet some do lancing suffer for healths sake And some for health do bitter potions take But if thou keep thy self from perjury ' Thou shalt preserve thy healâ—h thy saith and me Thy former faâ—â—t may yet a pardon find Through ignorance or foâ—getfulnesse of mind Thy siâ—kneâ—â—e and my words admonish thee For know the gods cannot deceiv'd be Yet shouldâ—st thou scape this sickness being a Maid Being maâ—ried thou wilt need Diâ—nâ—'s aid Having heard thy promise she will aske thee If I the father of thy burthen be If thou doâ—st vow yet she will not believe If tâ—ou swear'st she knows 't is but to deceive For thee not for thy self this care I take And my mind is thus troubleâ— for thy sake Let not â—hy Paâ—enâ—s for thy sâ—ckneâ—â—e wâ—ep Or why dost thou in â—gnorance them keep Though to thy Mother thou dost all relate Cyâ—iâ—â—â— thou need'st not to blush thereat Tell her â—ow I did first behold thy eyes While thou did'st to Diana sacâ—ifice And at the first side if thou maâ—ked'st me I stood and gaz'd with fixed eyes on thee And while I wondring stood mâ— cloak oft fell From my shoulder which passion seem'd to tell And after that an Apple I did fit VVherein most cunningly these words I writ VVhich in Diana's presâ—nce read by thee Thou didst bind thy self then to marry me That she the Tenour of the words may know As thou read'st them once read them to her so Then she will say forthwith pray marry me Him whom the goddess hath allotted thee Since that Diana is pleas'd chuse no other For the goddess will be to thee a mother And tell heâ— if she aske thee who I am The goddess choice can be to thee no shame In â—aea where Corycian Nymphs have In Parnassus hill an old famous Cave I was born and it birth be not contemn'd From no base Parantage I did descend I have wealth and my life from spot is free And there is none whom I love more than thee Had'st thou not swoâ—n yet thou need'st must like Such a husband and I such a wife would seek Diana in a dream bid me to write These lines and waking love bid me indite And â—s loves arrow now hath woâ—nded me Take heed Diana's arrow wound not thee At once have pity on me and thy selâ— At once thou
by the wind Even so the flame of love doth fire my mind Though Phaâ—n live near Aetâ—a far from me My flames of love hotter than Eâ—na be So that veâ—seâ— to my harpe I cannot set A quiet mind doth verses best beget The Dryad's do not help me at this time Nor Lesbian nor Pierian Muses nine I hate Amythone and Cydâ—us white And Athis is not pleasant in mâ— sight And many others that were â—ov'd of me But now I have plac'd all my love on thee Thy youthfull years to pleasure do invite Thy tempting beauty haâ—h betraâ—'d my sight Take a quiver and thou wiâ—t Appâ—lâ—â— be Take Horns and Bacchâ—s will be like to thee Pâ—oeâ—us lov'd Daphne Bâ—cchus Ariaâ—nâ— Yet in the Lyrick verse no knowledge had she But the Muses dictate unto me smooth rhymes So that the world knows my name and linâ—s Nor hath Aceus for the harp more praise Though he by higher subjects gets his Bayes If nature beauty unto me deny My wit the want oâ— beâ—uty doth supp'y Though low of stature yet my fame is tall And high for through the world 't is known to all Though for my beauty I have no renown Pâ—rsâ—us lov'd Cepâ—eâ—a that was brown White Doves do often pair with spoted Doves And the gâ—een Parret the black Turtle loves If thou wilt have a love as fair as thee Thou must have none for none â—o fair can be yet once my face did fair to thee appear And that my speecâ— became me thou didst swear And thou would'st kisse me while that I did sing For Lovers do remember every thâ—ng My kisses and each part thou didst approve But specialy when I did write of love Then I did please thee with my wanton strain With witty words and with my amorous vain But now the Maids of Sâ—cily do please thee Would I might Lâ—sbâ—s change for Sicâ—ly But take heed Meâ—â—ensianâ—ow â—ow you do Receive this wanderer least you do it rue Least by his â—â—attering tongue you be bâ—trai'd What he says to you he hath to me said O Venus help me now in my distresse Fair goddesse favour now thy Poetesse Will fortune alwayes be to me unkind And will she never change her froward mind For I knew sorrow soon even when that I Was six years old my father first did dye The love of a whore my brothero're-came On whom he spent his wealth and lost his fame Being grown poor then unto Sea he went To get by piracy what he had spent And because I did blame his courses he My honest counsell scorn'd and hateâ— me And as if these griefes weâ—e to light for me you know that I have faulty been with thee And of thee at last I must make complaint Because that I thy company do want In thy absence I do not dress my hair Nor on my fingers any rings do wear A poor and homely weed I do assume Arabian myrrhe doth not my hair perfume Though I did dresse my self for to please thee yet in thy absence why should I dresse me Nature hath given me a hart so soft Thaâ— love doth with his arrow wound it oft For I am still in love and I do see That I must alwayes thus in love still be The fatall sisters at my birth decreed To spin my life forth with an amorous thred Or else my studies are the cause of it Thalia hath given me a wanton wit Nor can it in love seem so strange a case That I'should love thy young effeminate face Lest Aurora should love thee I was affraid And so she had but Cephâ—â—us her staid If Phoebe should behold thee she e're long Would love thee more then her Eâ—dâ—mâ—on And beauteous Venus long ago had carried Tâ—ee unto heaven in her Ivory Chariot But that the goddesse wiâ—ely did foresee That Maâ—â— himself would fall in love with thee Such was thy beauty and thy comely grace For in thy youth thou hadst a Virgins face Return to me thou sweetest flower of beauty For to love thee I know it is my duty I do not here intreat thee to love me But that thou wouldst permit me to love thee And while I write I weep even for thy sake And all those blots thou see'st my tears did make Though thou resolvest to go yet modesty Might have enforced thee to take leave of me At thy departure thou didst not kisse me I fear'd that I should forsaken be I had no pledges of thy love for I Have nothing of thine but thy injury This only charge I would have gâ—ven to thee That thou wouldst not be unmindfull of me I swear unto thee by â—his love of mine And by my goddesses the muses nine When they did tell me that thou hadst took ship A long time I could neither speak nor weep My heart grew cold my silent grief was dumb Wanting both tears to vent it self and tongue But when my sorrows I more lively felt I tore my hair my tears began to melt So that to weep I presently begun Like Mothers at the burial of a son My brother laught and while that he did walk And strut by me he thus began to taâ—k Alas why does my loving sister grieve Thou hast no cause thy Daâ—gâ—ter is alive Thus love and shame together ill agree For I had put off now alâ— modesty And in such manner I abroad did rove That the people thereby discerned my love O Phâ—â—n I do dream of thee always Dreams makes the night more pleasâ—nt than the days Dreams make thee present though thou absent art But they weak shadows of true joyes impart Sometimes I tâ—ink that thou embracest me And â—ometimes I think â—haâ— I â—mbrace thee That thou dost kisse me then I do believe With such kisses as thou dost use to give And sometimes in my dream to thee I speak As if my tongue and senses were awaâ—e I cannot tell â—he â—est with modesty For methinks I enjoy thy campany But when the sun doth riâ—e and break the day I am sad because my dreams passe away I 'me angry that my fancy is no stronger And that my pleasant dream should last no longer Then to the woods and caves I straight way hie Wherein I enjoy'd thy sweet company As if the woods and caves wouâ—d comfort me Since they witnesses of our pleasure be Like one wâ—re mad or enchanted I â—â—ye Wâ—ile my hair doth o're my shoulders loose lie Methinks the mossie caves do seem as fair As those which built of costly Marble are I love the vvood under whose leavie shade VVe oftentimes have both together laid But the vvood seems upleasant unto me As if it mourned for thy company And I have often gone unto that place Where we have lain together in the grasse And laid me down again and with the showers Of tears have watered the smiling flowers The leavelesse trees to mourn do begin And all the sweet â—irds have left off to sing Only the Nightingale with mournfull song In sadest notes bewailes her
cended to the Stygian Lake From thence in saâ—ety I returned back For though in thy Letters no dread appear I saw my mothers thin ghost walking there She told me how at home all matters be And to shun my imbraces thrice fled me I saw Protesilaus who fate-contemnâ—ng Wâ—th his death gave the Trojan wars beginning And his wife Leodaâ—iâ— who did dye That she might beaâ— her hâ—sband company I saw Agameâ— on whose wounds bleâ—ding were So that the sight made me â—et fall a tear He had no hurt at Troy and also past The Eubaean Promontory yet at last Having a thousand wounds gâ—ven him he dies Even then when he to Jove did sacrisice Thus Hâ—lena the Grecians ruin bred While she to Troy a stranger fo lowed Besides what profit was it unto me Cassaâ—dra were captives and Andromeche I could have chosen Hâ—cuâ—a for my wife Think not that with a who e I spend my life For I brought Hâ—cubâ— aboard my ship But she out of her former shape did â—â—ip For into a Bitch she was straight transform'd And her complaints were into barking turn'd Thetis grew angry at these Progedies And enrag'd Aeosus made a storm to rise So that with wind and waves our ships did strive Which tempest round about the world did drive But if Tyresias truely foretold me A prosperous â—ate aâ—ter adversity Having endur'd so much by land and sea I hope my fortunes will more kinder be Now Pallas doth protect us from all dangers And guides us in our journey amongst strangers Since Trâ—yes destruction I have Pallas sâ—en Of late so that her anger spent doth seem And whaâ—soever Ajax did commit The Grecians now are punished for it Nor was Tydides too excus'd from danger For he like us about the world doth wander Nor Teucer that from Telamon firâ—t sprung Nor he that with a thousand ships did come Menâ—laus was happy for having got His wife he need fear no unhappy lot Though the winds or seas did your journy stay Your love was not hindred by that delay The winds nor waves did not hinder your blisse But when you list you could embrace and kisse And had I so enjoy'd thy company No evil chance could then betide to me But since Telemachus is well I hear My present troubles I more lightly bear I blame thy love in sending him to sea Through Sparte and in Pyâ—on to seek me I needs muâ—t blame thy love in doing it While to the Sea thou didst my Son commit But fortune may at last yet prove my friend And all my troubles may have a fair end A Prophet told me dear wife we should meet And with embraces should each other greet But â— will come diâ—guis'd so to be known Unto no other â—ut thy self alone In a bâ—ggers habit â—'le disguised be Conceale thy joy and knowledge then of me I 'le shew no outward violence when I come For so Apolâ—â—s Priest unto me sung But I 'le revenge my self even at that time When thy wooâ—rs are banqueting with wine While beggers rayment doth Vlesses cover And then at last my self I will discover While at Vlesses they shall all admire That thâ—s day would come soon I do desire That we may both dâ—er wife renew our love And I to thee may a kind husband prove The Argument of Sabines seâ—ond Eâ—iâ—tle DEmophoon in this Epistle endeavours by divers Arguments to excuse his unfaithfull neglect of returning to Phylles according to his promise Alledging that his friends were offended with him sot staying so long with her in Thrace and also the importune unseasonablenesse of the weather for sailing promising howsoever at length to return to Phillis He performed his promise but Phyllis impatient of delay â—ad strangled her self before he came and by the mercy of the gods was changed into a leafelesse Almond tree which Demophoon embracing it put forth leaves as if it had been sensible of his return Which is fain'd because Phyllis signifies in Greek an Almonde tree so expressing the name of Phyllis Because when Zephyrus or the West wind bloweth from Afriâ—a into Thrace this â—ree flourisheth for Zephyrus signifies as much as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that is The life cherisher which gave occasion to this fiction that Phyllis transformed into a Tree seemed to rejoyce and flourish at the return of her Lover DEMOPHOON to PHILIS FRom his own Country to Phyllis his friend Dâ—mophoâ—n doth this his Letter send Evâ—n thy â—emoâ—hâ—oâ— that doth still love thee My fortunes chang'd but not my constancy Theseus whoâ—e name thou hast no cause to fear Thy flame of love for his sake worthy were Menestheus drove out of his royal state And the old Tyrant is now dead of late He that the Amazons had overcome And unto Herculâ—s was companion He that did Minâ—s son in law become When he the Minotaure had overthrown He did accuse me because I did stay Trifling so long with thee in Thraâ—ia For while the love of Phyllis did detain thee And that a foâ—reign beauty did enflame thee Time with a nimble pace did slip away And sad accidents hapned by thy delay Which had been all prevented hadst thou come Or hadst thou made them void when they wereâ—d VVhen thou didst Phyllis kingdome love for she Thâ—n a whoâ—e kingdome was dearer to thee From Atâ—amas I this sâ—me chiding have And old Ethra who 's halfe within her grave Since Theseus is not their to close their eyes The fault on me for staying with thee lyes I confesse they both to me often cry'd VVhen my ship did in Thracian waters ride The winâ—s stand faire Demophoon why dost stay Go home Demophoon without delay From thy beloved Phyllis example take She loves thee yet her home she 'l not forsake She desires not to bear thee company But to return again entreateth thee I with a silent patience heard them chide But their desire I in my thoughts deny'd I thought I could not imbrace thee enough And I was glad to see the sea grow rough Before my father I will this confesse He that loves worthily may it professe For since such store of worth remains in thee If I do love thee it no shame can be And I do know that Phyllis cannot say I prov'd unkin'd when I did sail away For when the day came that I must take ship I weept and comforted thee who did'st weep Thou didst grant me a ship of Thracia VVhile Phyllis love made me the time delay Besides my father Theseus doth retain Ariadnes love and cherishes that flame VVhen he looks towards heaven many times See how my love saith he in heaven shines Though Bacchus to forsake her did commenâ— him The world for forsaking her hath blam'd him So am I perjur'd thought for my delay Though Phyllis know not the cause of my stay This may assure thee I will come again Because my breast doth burn with no new flame Phyllis hath not report to thee made known What dismall troubles are sprung up at
home Since for my fathers death I a mourner am Whose death includes more grief then I can name My brother Hyppolliâ—us deserves a tear Whom his own horses did in pieces tear These fatall causes might excuse my stay yet after a while I will come away I will but lay my Fâ—tâ—er in the grave For 't is fit he â—hould worthy burial have Grant me but â—ime and I will constant be Thy Country â—eilds most safety unto me To those that since the fall of Troy did wander By land and sea and padst through much danger Tâ—â—â—ce hatâ— been kind and I unto this Land By tempest drove was kindly entertain'd If that thy love to me remain the same VVho in my royal Palace now do raign And art not Angry with my parents fate Or with Dâ—mophoon most unfortunate Suppose that unto me thou hadst been married VVhen at the siege of Troy ten years I tarried Penelâ—pe through all the world is fam'd Because that she her chastity maintain'd For she with witty Arâ— did alwayes wâ—ave An unthriving web suiâ—ers to deceive For she by night did it in pieces pull Resolving the unâ—wisted threds to woll Do'st 〈◊〉 the Thraciaâ—s will not marry thee Or wilt thou marry any one but me Hast thou a heart with any one to join Thy hand unlesse thy hand do join with mine HOw wilt thou blush then and how wilt thou grieve When a far off thou shalt my failes perceive Thou wilt condemn thy self and â—ay alas I see Demophoon most faitful was Dâ—mopâ—oâ—n is return'd and for my sake A dangerous voyage he by sea did make I that for breach of faith him rashly blamed Have broke my faith while I of him complained But Philliâ— I had rather thou should'st marry Then that thou shouldst some other way miscarry Why dost thou threaten thou wilt make away Thy self the gods may hear when thou dost pray Though thou do'st blame me for inconstancy Add not affliction to my misery Though Tâ—eseus Ariadnâ— did forsaâ—e Where he wild beasts a prey of her might maâ—e Yet my desert hath not been such that I Should be accused of inconstancy This Letter may the winds wiâ—â— out all fail Bring safe to tâ—ee which us'd to drive my fail Perswade thy self I fain would come away But that I have just cause a while to stay The Argument of Sabines third Epistle THis responsive Epistle written by Paris is not difficult for the Argument is taken out of Oenones Epistle Paris having violated the rites of marriage by repudiating his wife and marrying Helena first confesses to Oenone the injury he had done her After ward excusing himself he transfereth the blame on Cupid whose power Lovers cannoâ— râ—sist and on the fate who had destinated Helena to him unknown But t is reported that Oenone did love Paris so dearly that he being brought to her wounded by Phyloctetes with one of Hercules arrowes she imbraced his body and embalâ—â—eing it with tears dyed over him and so they were both buried in Cebriâ— a Trojan City PARIS to OENONE Nymph I confesse that I fit words do want To write an answer to thy just complaint I sâ—ek for words but yet I cannot find VVords that my aptly suite unto my mind I confesâ—e against thee I haâ—e offended yet Hâ—lens love maâ—es me I cannot mend it I 'le condemn my self but what doth it avail The power of love makes a bad cause prevail For though thou should'st condemn me and my cause yet Cupâ—d means to â—ry me by his lawes And if by his lawes we will judged be It seems another hath more right to me Thou weâ—t my first love I conâ—esse in truth And I marri'd thee in my flowre of youth Of my father Pâ—iam I was not proud As thou do'st write but unto thee I bow'd I did not think Hâ—ctor should prove my brother VVhen thee and I did keep our flocks together I knew not my mother Queen Hâ—cuâ—e VVhose Daughter thou most worthy art to be But love I see is not guided by reason Consider with thy self at this same season For thou complain'st that I have wroâ—ged thee And yet thou writest that thou lovest me And though the Sâ—yres and the Fawnâ—s do move thee yet thou â—emainest constant still unto me Bendes this love is fatal unto me My Sister Cassandra did it foresee Before that I had heard of Helâ—ens name Whose beauty through all Greece was known by â—ame I have told all unlesse it be that wound Of love which I have by â—er beauty found Nay those wounds I will open and from you To gain some help I will both beg and sue My life and death are both within thy hand you have conquer'd me I 'm at your command yet I remember that when you heard me â—elate to you her diâ—mal prophesie While I did tell thee thou didst weep upon me VViâ—hing the go is would turn that sad fate upon me That thou 〈◊〉 gâ—t'st have no cause to accuse When that O 〈◊〉 doâ—h 〈◊〉 lose Love blinded me that I could not believe thee And loving thee doth make me now deceive thee Love powerful is and when he list can turn Ioâ—â— to a bull or to a Bird tranforme Such beauty all the world should not contain As Hâ—lâ—n who is born to be my flame Since Iupiter to disguise his loose scape Did transforme himself unto a â—wans shape And Ioâ—â— also descended from his Tower To court fair Daâ—â—e in a golden showre Sometimes himself he to an Eagle turn'd And sometimes to a white Bull hath transform'd And who would think that Hâ—râ—ules would spin yet love of Dâ—ianâ—ra compell'd him And he wore her lâ—ght Peâ—ticoate 't is said While his love with his Lions skin was clad So I remember love compelled thee The more 's my fault that thou preâ—erredst me Before Apollos love and from him fled Because thou would'st possesse my marriage bed Yet I excel'd not Plâ—oebus but the dart Of Love did so inforce thy gentle heart yet this may unto thee some comfort prove That she is no base Harloâ— whom I love For she whom I before thee do prefer By birth is â—escended from Iupiâ—â—r yet her birth doth not inamour'd make me But 't is her matchlâ—sse beauty that doth take me O my Oenonâ— I do wish it still I had not been on the Idaean Hill A judge of beauty Pallas now doth grudge And Iune because against them I did judge And because I did lovely Venus praise And for her beauty gave to her the Bayes She that can raise loves flame up in another She that rules Cupid and is his own Mother yet she could not avoid her own Sons shaft And Bow where with he wounded others oft For Vâ—lcan took fair Venus close in bed VVith Mâ—rs which by the gods was witnessed And Mars again she afterward forâ—ook And for her Paramour Anchises took For with Anchises she in love would be And did revenge his sloath in venery If Venus thus did in afâ—ection rove Why may not she make Paris change his love Menelaus with her fair face was took I lov'd her before on her I did loâ—k Though wars ensue if I do her enjoy And a thousand ships fetch her back from Troy I do not fear the war is just and right If all the world should for her beauty fight Although the armed Grecians ready be To fetch her back I 'le keep her here with me If thou hast any hope to change my mind To use thy charmes why art tâ—ou not enclin'd Since in Apollo's Arts thou art well seen And to Hecates skill hast used been Thou canst cloud the day and stars shinning clear And make the Moon forsake her silver sphere And by thy charmes while I did Oxen keep Fierce Lyons gentâ—y waâ—k't among the sheep Thou didst make Xanthus and Simâ—eâ—s flow Unto their springs and back again to go And charm'dst other Rivers when thou did'st see They thirsted aâ—ter thy Virgininiâ—y Oenone let thy charmes effectual prove To change my affection or quench thy love Bookes Printed for William Gilbertson the sign of the Bible in Gilt-spur-stree without Nâ—wgate THe Faithfull Analist or an Epitome of the English History giving a true account of the Affairs of this Nation from the building of the Tower of London in the dayes of William the Conqueror to the Restoring of our Gracious King Charles the Second where in all things remarkable both by Sea and Land from the year 1069. to the year 1660 are truly and exactly represented The Rich Cabinet with variety of Inventions unlocked and opened for the recreation of Ingenious spirits at their vacant hours also variety of Recreative fire-works both for Land Air and Water whereunto is added Divers Experiments in Drawing Painting Arethmetick c. The History of Parismus and Parismenos The History of Ornatus and Artesia The History of Dr. Iohn Faustus the first and second part The History of the Gentle Craft the second part shewing what famous men have bâ—en Shoo-makers Iustin in Lattin Also Iustin in English Translated out of the four and forty books of Trogus Pompelus containing the Affairs of all ages and Countreys both in peace and war from the beginning of the world till the time of the Roman Emperors togather with an Epitome of the lives and Manners Fitting to be used in Schools for the benefit of youth The Government of Cattle by Leonard Mascall Chief Farier to King Iames. The Surveyors Perambulator A new book of Surveying of Land PLAYS Ignoramus Dr. Faustus The Valiant Welchman Fair EM the Millers Daughter of Manchester GUY of Warmick Lady Alymony The Merry Devil of Edmonton The Shoe-makers Holiday or the Gentle-Craft FINIS
OVIDS HEROICALL Epistles Englished by W. S. Veniam pro laude peto nunâ—â—itibus Mutaraè quaero Tristiâ— The â—th Edytion London printed for W Gilbertson at the Bible in Gilt-spurstrâ—â— 6 6â— OVID'S HEROICAL Epistles Englished by W.S. Veniam pro laude peto nunc mitibus Mutare Quaero Tristia LONDON Printed for William Gilbertson at the sign of the Bible without Newgate in Gilt-spur-street 1663. TO THE VERTUOUS LADIES AND GENTLEWOMEN OF ENGLAND YOur beauties Ladies and Gentlewomen are but types and shadows of the beauty of your vertuous minde which is discerned by Noble and Courteous actions I may therefore presume that Ovid's Heroical Epistles chiefly translated for your sakes shall find a gentle acceptance sutable to your Heroical dispositions for Courtesie and Ingenuity are the companions of Gentility But those who claim this Title and are degraded of it by their own vitious qualities Ovid disclaims them Vertue is an invisible gift which is not discerned by the outward habit but by speech and action and a certain delectation in vertue as Modesty Temperance and especially curtesie to which Ovid doth appeal For when Rome knew him famous he was esteemed of Love and Ladies so that he was fain to shadow the ambitious love of the Emperours daughter towards him under the vail of Corynna but the Emperour saw through it and banished him Besides these Epistles in regard of their subject have just relation to you Ladies and Gentlewomen being the complaint of Ladies and Gentlewomen for the absence of their Lovers And that their sorrow may be more sensible there is a Table prefixed adjoyning to the book presenting the several Pictures of the Arguments of the Epistles So much concerning the work and the Author Ovid now you expect a complement for the Dedication Ladies and Gentlewomen since this book of Ovid's which most Gentlemen could read before in Latin is for your sakes come forth in English it doth at first address it self a Suiter to wooe your acceptance that it may kiss your hands and afterward have the lines thereof in reading sweetned by the odour of your breath while the dead letters form'd into words by your divided lips may receive new life by your passionate expression and the words married in that Ruby-coloured Temple may thus happily united multiply your contentment And in a word let this be A Servant with you to the Lady Vertue Wye Saltonstall TO THE VERTUOUS LADIES AND GENTLEWOMEN OF GREAT BRITAIN OF all the Poets that in verse did raign As Monarchs none could equal Ovid's strain Especially in the affairs of Love Ovid the Master of that Art did prove His fancies were so pleasing and so sweet That Love did wish no other winding sheet If he had mortal been for he would die To live again in his sweet Poesie When he intended to inflame the mind Or shew how Lovers proved too unkind As in these Epistles where Ladies bemoan Themselves when their unkind lovers were gone He doth so mournfully express their passion In such a loving and a lively fashion That reading them grief will not let you speak Untill imprison'd tears from your eyes break Such passions in his Letters do appear That every word will make you drop a tear But you fair Gentlewomen of this Isle He would have you to glance one gentle smile On his Epistles stil'd Heroical Because by Lords and Ladies written all You know that Love is the Hearts pleasant tamer Whose motto is this Omnia vincit Amor For he can with his lighted Torch enflame Assoon the Lord and Lady as the Swain If then you hope to be happy in Love If other sorrows may your pity move If you the complaints of fair Ladies tender Which English doth for your contentment render Unto your view let these Epistles here Enjoy your beauteous favour shining clear On Ovid belov'd by th' Emperours daughter For which by Caesar he was banisht after Yet this his comfort was in Banishment His Love and Lines did yield your sex content Let English Gentlewomen as kind appear To Ovid as the Roman Ladies were So wisheth Wye Saltonstall THE INDEX A ABydos a City in Asia Ep. 17. Achelouâ— a river of Etolia 9. Achilles son of Peleus and Thetis Ep. 3. Acontius signifies an Arrow Ep. 19 20. Acteon beheld Diana bathing her self and was transformed into a Stag Ep. 20. Aetna a burning Mountain Ep. 21. Adonis the son of Cinyras Ep 4. Aegyptâ—s brother to Belus Ep. 14. Aeneas son to Anchises and Venus Ep. 7. Aeolus King of the winds E. 10 Aethâ—a Ep. 16. Agamemnon Prince of the Grecians Ep. 3. Ajax Ep. 3. Alcions Sea Birds Ep. 17. Alecto one of the Furies Ep. 3. Androgeus Minos son Ep. 10. Andromache Hectors wife E. 5. Antilochus Ep. 1. Apollo god of Poetry Physiâ—k and Musick Ep. 5 6. Ariadâ—e Ep. 10. Ariadnes Crown a Constellation Ep. 17. Ascanius son to Aeneas Ep. 7. Athens a famous University Ep. 2. Atias a Mountain Ep. 10. Atreus son to Pelops Ep 10. Aurora or the morning Ep. 4. B BRiseis a captive Virgin taken by Achilles Ep. 3. C CAcus a Gyant Ep. 9. Canace Sister to Macareus Ep. 11. Carthage a City of Lybia E. 7. Cassandra a Prophetess who foretold the destruction of Troy Ep. 15. Cephalus signifies the head E. 4. Cerberus Porter of hell Ep. 9 10. Ceres Goddess of corn and Plenty Ep. 2. Caryâ—dis a rocky gulf Ep. 12. Colchos where the Golden Fleece was kept Ep. 6. Corinth a City Ep. 12. Clymene waiting maid to Helena Ep. 16. Crete an Island Ep. 16. Cynthia or the Moon Ep. 17. D DEdalus who made himself and his son Icarus wings to fly withall Ep. 17. Daphne turned into a Lawrell-tree Epist. 21. Deianira Daughter to Oenus King of Caledon Ep. 9. Deiphobus or fearing the gods Epist. 5. Delos an Island it signifies manifest or clear from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Deucalion who with his Wife Pyrrha survived after the general Deluge Ep. 2. Demophoon signifies a light to the people by his exemplary Vertues Ep. 2. Diana called Lucina Ep. 19. Dido signifies to fear Ep. 7. Dolon Ep. 1. E ELisa or Dido Epist. 7. Elysian Elysium was a fain'd place of joy for the dead E. 3. Endymion was beloved of the Moon Ep. 17. Eurystheus King of the Mycemans Ep. 9. Erynnis a Fury Europa signifies fair faced from whom the chiefest part of the world is called Europa Ep. 4. H HEmeus a Mountain of Thrace Ep. 2. Hector the valiantest of all the Trojans Ep. 1. Helena wife to Menelaus Ep. 5. Helespont or the Sea wherein Helle was drowned Ep. 8 7. Hercules begot by Iupiter in three nights on Alcmena in the shape of Amphytrio Ep. 9. Hermione Epist. 8. Hydra a monster whose fruitfull heads would grow as they were lopped off Ep. 9. Hero or a Noble Heroical Lady Ep. 17. Hymen the god of marriage Ep. 2. Hypermnestra Wife to Linus Ep. 14. Hyppolitus was torn in pieces by his
the dew did fall we often lay In a poor Cottage upon straw or hay I shew'd thee both what Lawns and Forrests were Likely to yeild much store of game and where The wilde beasts did in secret caves abide And their young ones in the hollow Rocks did hide To set thy Toyles with thee I oft have gone After the Hounds I o're the hills have run My name on every Beech-tree I do finde Thou hadst engrav'd Oenone on their rinde And as the body of the tree doth so The letters of my name do greater grow Close by a River I remember it These lines are on an Alder fairly writ And may the Alder flourish still and spread Because these lines may on the bark be read When Paris doth to Oenone false become Xanthus unto his spring doth backward run Xanthus run back thy course now backward take For Paris doth his Oenone forsake That day did unto me most fatal prove That day began the winter of thy love When Venus Iuno and fair Pallas came Naked before thee and did not disdain To chuse thee for their Judge when thou had'st told The story to me my faint heart grew cold Of the experienc'd I did counsel take They did resolve me thou wouldst me forsake For thou didst build new ships without delay And didst send forth a Fleet to sea straightway Yet thou didst weep at thy departure hence Do not deny it it was no offence For by my love thy credit is not stain'd But of loving Helen thou mayst be asham'd Thou wept'st and also at that very time Thou saw'st me weep my tears dropping with thine And as the Vine about the Elme doth winde So thy arms were about my neck entwinde When thou complaind'st because the winds cross were The Sailers laught because the wind stood fair Thou didst kiss me oft when thou didst depart And thou wert loth to say Farewel Sweet-heart At last a gentle gale of wind did blow So that thy ship from land did slowly go I looking after thee long time did stand Weeping and shedding tears on the dry sand And to the green Nereides I did pray Thy voyage might be speedy without stay For me it was too speedy since that I Sustain the loss of thy false love thereby To Thessaly my Prayers have brought thee safe And for a Whore my prayer prevailed hath There is a Mountain that to sea doth look Which beating of the foaming waves can brook From hence when I beheld thy ship was coming Into the sea I presently was running But standing still at length I might discern A purple flag which waved on the stern Then whether it were thy ship I did doubt Because such colours thou didst not put out But when thy ship to shoar did neerer stand And a fair gale did bring it close to land A womans face I straightway did behold Which made my heart to tremble and wax cold And while I stood doating there I might espie Thy sweet heart that did on thy bosome lie O then I wept my breast I strook and beat And tore my cheeks that with my tears were wet Filling the Mountain Ida with my cries And there I did bewail my miseries May â—elena at last so weep so grieve When thou dost falsly her forsake and leave And may she that this wrong to me doth offer Be wrong'd in the like kind and like wrong suffer When thou wert poor and led'st a Shepheards life None but Oenone was thy loving wife T is not thy wealth nor state that I admire Nor to be Priams daughter do I desire Yet Priam nor his Hecuba need disdain Me for their daughter since I worthy am I am fit to be a Princess to command A royal Scepter would become my hand Despise me not because that I with thee Have lain under some shady Beechen-tree For I am fitter for thy Royal bed When it with purple Quilts is covered Lastly my love is safest since for me No wars shall follow nor no Fleet shall be Sent forth but if thou Helena do take She shall by force of arms be fetched back Blood is the portion which thou shalt obtain If thou dost marry with this stately Dame Ask Hector and Deiphobus if she Should not unto the Greeks restored be Ask Priam and Antenor wise and grave Who by their age much deep experience have For to performe a beauteous rape before Thy Country must be bad and base all o're Since to defend a bad cause is a shame Her Husband shall just wars 'gainst thee maintain Nor think that Helena faithful will become Who was so quickly woo'd so quickly won As Menelaus grieves because that she Hath with a stranger by adultery Wrong'd the chaste rites of the Nuptial bed And let a stranger so adhorn his head So thou wilt then confess no art or cost Can purchase honesty that once is lost She that is bad once will in bad persever And being bad once will be bad for ever As she loves thee so she before did love Mâ—nelaus unto whom she false did prove Thou might'st have been more faithful unto me As thy brother was to fair Andromache But thou art lighter than dry leaves which be By every wanton wind blown off the tree Or like the waving corn which every whiff Of wind doth bend untill it grow more stiff Thy Cousen once for I remember 't well With dishevell'd hair did thus my fate foretell What dost thou Oenone why do'st thou sow The barren sands Or why do'st thou thus go About to plough the shoar it is in vain Such fruitless tillage can yeild thee no gain A Greâ—ian Maid is coming that shall be Fatal unto thy Country and to thee And may the ship be drown'd in the salt stood Whose sad arrival shall cost so much blood When she had said thus straight my flaxen hair Began to heave and stand upright for fear Alas thou wert too true a Prophetess For she is come and doth my place possess Yet she is but a fair adulteress Who with a strangers love was so soon took And for his sake her Country hath forsook Besides one Theseus though I know not whom Brought her out of the Country long agon And canst thou think an amarous young-man Would send her a pure Virgin back again If thou wouldst know how I these truths discry It is my love love doth in all things pry If thou call'st her fault a rape yet that name May seem to hide her fault but not her shame Since she so often from her Country went 'T was not by violence but by her consent Though by deceit thou me instructed hast Yet Oenoâ—e still remaineth chast I hid me in the woods while the wanton rout Of nimble Satyres sought to find me out And horned Fawnes with wreaths of sharp Pine crown'd Over the Mountain Ida sought me round For great Apollo that protecteth Troy The spoyles of my virginity did enjoy By force against my will for which disgrace I tore my guiltless
my hair I tore the flaxen wealth And softly thus did reason with thy selâ—e Hypermaâ—stra thou hast a cruell father Therefore obey his commands the rather Take courage and obey thy fathers will And boldly with the rest thy Husband kill yet since I am a young maid my hands be Unfit to act a bloody Tragedy yet imitate thy sisters now again VVho have by this time a lâ—tâ—eir husbands slain yet iâ— this â— and a murther could commit To stain it with my own blood it were fit Dâ— they dâ—sâ—rve death because they possesse Our faâ—her's kiâ—gdoâ— which yet ne'rethelesse Some strangers might from him away have carried As dowries given them whâ—n we were married Though they deserve death what shall we do lesse If we commit this deed of wickednesse Maids do not love a sword or kilâ—ing tool My fingers fitter are to spin soft wooll Having thus complain'â— my tears began to riâ—e And drâ—pped on thy body from my eyes And while thy arms aboâ—â— me thou didst out Thy hand though with the sword hadst almost put And left my father should surprize and take thee With these words I did suddenly awake thee Rise Lâ—nus who dost now alone survive Of all thy brethren none are left aâ—ive Make hast I say beâ—ake thy selfe to flight Make haste or else thou wilt be slain to night Awak'd fâ—om sleep thou didst amazed stand To see the glittering sword shine in my hand And I did wish thee for to fly away By night and save thy selfe while I did stay In the morning when â—anaus came to view His sons which his most bloudy daughters slew He saw them laid in deaths eternal slumber Yet one was wanting to make up the number And angry that so little blood was spill'd Because I my Husband had not kill'd My father without any love or care Drag'd me along even by my flaxen hair And straight way did command I should be cast Intâ— prison this was my reward at last For Iuno still on us doth bend her brow Since Iuno still on us doth bend her brow Since Iâ— was transform'd into a Cow yet punishment enough by her was born When Iuno did her to a Cow transform When she that was so fair could not in height Of pleasure yield great Iupiter delight On the bank of the River Inachus now She stood cloth'd in the shape of a white Cow While in her fathers stream both clear and cold The shadow of her horns she did behold And low'd aloud when she to speak assai'd Her shape and voice did make her both aâ—raid Why dost thou fly from thy own selfe alas Or admire thy shape in that watry glasse Thus she that was great Iupiters chief Lasfe Is enforcâ—d to feed on dry leaves and grasse Thou drink'st spring-water and art in amaze VVhen on thy shadow thoâ— dost look and gaze And of those spreading horns which thou dost bear Upon thy head thou seem'st to stand in fear And she whose beauty Iupiter did wound Now lyeth every night on the bare ground O're hills and rivers thou abroad dost stray O're seas and countries thou dost find thy way And yet O Io thou canst not escape Or changing places change thy outward shape Thy selfe doth always bear thee company Where Nilus seven streams to the sea run There she unto her former shape did come But why should I such ancient tales relate I have cause to complain of my own fate My Father and my Uncle do wage war And we out of our kingdom banisht are And he our royal Scepter now doth sway VVhile miserable we like pilgrims stray Of fifty brethren thou alone art left For their deaths and my sisters I have wept My sisters and my brothers both slain were For whose sakes I can't chuse but shed a tear And because thou in safety dost survive To be tormented I am kept alive VVhat punishment shall they expect that be Guilty when they for goodness condemn me And I must die because I would not spill My brothers bloud and cruelly him kill If therefore thou respectest me thy wife Or lovest me because I sav'd thy life Help me or if I die I thee desire To lay my body on the funeral fire Eâ—balm my boness with thy moist tears aed then Sâ—e that thou carefully do bury them And let this Epitaph be engraved on My Sepulcher or on my Marble-stone Hypeâ—â—uestra here underneath doth lye That was iâ—l rewarded for her piety For she most like unto a faithful wife Did lose her own to save her husbands life My trembling hand is tired with the weight Of Chaines or else I would more largely write The Argument of the fifteenth Epistle PAris otherwise called Alexander sayling to Lacedemon to fetch Helena which Venus had promised him was honourably received by Menelaus but Menelaus and Menos kindred going to Greece to divide Acreus his wealth left Paris at home charging his wife to use him with as much respect as himself But Paris improving the opportunity began to wooe and court Holena to gain her love In this Epistle he artificially discovers his affection and with amourous boasting iudeavours to insinuate into her affection And because he knew that women love to hear their birth and beauty praised Paris endeavours by flattery to gain her favour urging her praises and striving to disgrace her husband And at last perswades her to go with him to Troy where he would keep her by force PARIS to HELENA PAris sweet Helen wisheth health to thee That health which you can onely give to me Shall I speak or need no I my flame reveale you know I love you nor can I conceal My love which I could wish might hidden be Till time did give the opportunity VVithout all fear most freely to discover My selfe to be your faithful constant Lover But yet who can the fire of love conceal Which by its own light doth it selfe reveal yet if thou look'st that I my grief should name Then know I love thee these lines shew my flame And I intreat you to have pity on me Because my present sufferings proceed from thee VVith a frowning countenance read not the rest But such as may become thy beauty best Thy receipt of thy Letters joyeth me And cherish hope that I at last shall be Receiv'd into thy favour which I wish That Venus may her promise keep in this For Loves fair Mother first perswaded me To take this journey in hope to gain thee And lest thou shouldst through ignorance offend By divine appointment I came to this end Venus perswaded me to undertake This journey which she would propitious make For since that Venus promis'd me that you Should be my wife I challenge it as due For her perswasions made me to take ship From Troy and unto Lacedemon ship And she did make the wind most fair to stand She that 's sprung from the seâ— might it command And as she smooth'd the sea and ca'm'd the wind So may she make thy
breast most soft and kind I did not find love here I brougâ—t tâ—e flame VVith me and to obtain thy love I came By wandring storms I was not hither drove My ship was guided hither by true love Nor came I hither like a merchant man I have wealth enough the gods it maintain Nor yet the Grecian Cities here to view For richer in my kingdom I can shew 'T is thee I aske 'T is thee I onely crave VVhom Venus promis'd me that I should have I askt thee of her when I did not know the She promisâ—d that she would on me bestow thee For of thy beauty I had heard by fame Before mine eye had e're beheld the same yet 't is no wonder if that Cupâ—â—s Bow VVith feathered arrows makes me cry Amo Since by unchanged fates it 's so ordain'd Then do not thou their hidden will withstand And that you may beleeve it is my fate Receive the truth which I will here relate When that my mother was with child And daily did expect delivery She dream't for in her dream it so did seem That of a fire brand she had deliver'd been She rises and to Pâ—â—am doth unfold Her dream which he unto his Prophets told Who straight foretold that Paris should destâ—oy And like a kindled brand set fire on Troy But I do think they rather might divine That brand did signifie this love of miâ—e And though I like a Shepherds son was bred My shape and spirit soon discovered That I had not been born the son of e'arth But that I claim'd Nobility by birth In the Troy valleys there 's a place Which many trees with a coâ—d shade do grace Wherein no Sheep do feed nor any Oxe Nor Goats that love to climb upon high Rocks Here looking towards Troy and to the Sea I stood and lean'd my selfe against a tree The truth I tell me thought the earth then shook As if oppressed with some heavy foot And presently swift Mercury from the skies Descended down and stood before mine eies And therefore what I saw I may unfold The God had in his hand a rod of Gold And three goddesses Venuâ— Iuno Pallas Did set their tender feet udon the grasse Thâ—n cold amazement stiffned my long hair But winged Mercurie bid me not to fear Thou art says he câ—osen to judge and end The matter 'twixt these goddesses who contend About their beauty say they which shall be Accounted the most beautiful of three This message I from Iupiteâ— do bring VVhich having said he from the earth did spring And through the air did a quick passage make And by his words I did more courrge take So that my mind more fortified grew And dreadlesse I each one of them did view Who unto me so beautifull did appear I could not judge which of them fairest were yet one of them my fancy did approve Her beauty shew'd she was the Queen of Love But they conâ—ending which should faâ—â—est be Did all with most â—ich gifts solicite me Iuno did fairly promise I should be A mighty Monarch Pâ—â—los promis'd me Learning so that a doubt did now arise Whether I would chuse to be gâ—ea or wise But Venus smiling then Paris says she Those gifts of theirs but glorious tâ—oubles be I 'le give thee Helena thou shalt hereafter In thy arms imbrace Leâ—â—â— fair daughter Thus both her gift and beauty conquer'd me So that to her I gave the victory And afterward my fate so kind was grown That now to be the Kings son I was known At my instaâ—ment all the Courts did joy Kept in a yearly festival in Troy And as I lov'd I was belov'd of many But for thy sake I would not match with any Kings and â—ukes daughters did of me approve And fairest Nymphs with me did fall in love yet all of them were but despisâ—d of me After I had this hope of marrying thee Day and nâ—ght in my mind I thee did keep And thinking on thee I should fall aslâ—ep How comely would thy presence sure have been Whose beauty wounded me a though unseen I was enâ—â—amed with a strange desire Burning when I was absent from the fire My hopes I could no longer now contain But to sea put forth my wish to obtain And now the losty Phrygian Pines I fell'd And â—â—ees for building ships most fitting held The 〈◊〉 of Gargaâ—uâ— and Ida did yield Greâ—◠〈◊〉 of trees wherewith I ships did build I buâ—lt â—heir decks and lined the ships side With planks of Oak which might a storm abide And did rig and tackle them beside With ropes and sayles which to the yards were ty'd And I did set on the stern of the ship The Image of those Gods which did it keep And on my own ship I did make them paint Venus and Cupid thaâ— it might not want Her safe protection who had promis'd me By her assistance I should marry thee Soon as my fleet was builded thus and fram'd To sea I presantly resolv'd to stand My father and Mother when I did require Their leave to go would not gran my desire Or licence me and therefore to have staid My intended journey both of them astai'd My Sister Cassanâ—ra with loosned hair When as my Ships even weighing anchor were Said whither goest thou thou shalt bring again By crossing the seas a destroying flame The truth she said for I have found a fire Love hath enflam'd my soft breast with desire A fair wind from the Port my sails did drive And I in Helena Countrey did arrive Where thy Husband did me much kindnesse show And sure the gods decreed it should be so He shew'd me all that worthy was of sight In Lacedemon to breed me delight But there was nothing that my fancy took But onely thee and thy sweet beauteous â—ook For when I saw thee I was even amaz'd My heart was wounded while on thee I gaz'd For I remember Venus was like thee When she would have her beauty judg'd by me And if thou hadst contended with her I Had surely given thee the victory For the report of thee â—abroad was blown Thy beauty was in every Country known For through all Nations where the Sun doth rise Thy beauty onely bear away the prize Beleeve me fame did not report so much As thou deservâ—st thy beauty seemeth such That Tâ—esâ—s did not thy love disdain And to steal thee away did think 't no shame When suâ—ting to the Lacedemonian fashion Thou didst sport with the young men of thy Nation In stealâ—ng thee I like his just desire But â—ow he could restore thee I admire For such a beauteous prey had sure deserv'd To have been kept and constantly preserv'd For before thou shouldst been took from my bed Before I would loose thee I would loose my head â—las could I have ceer so forgone thee O while I livâ—d have let thee been took fâ—om me Yet if I must restore thee needs at last I would have yeâ— presum'd to touch and â—ast The
goldâ—n apples of thy Virgin tree And nâ—t send thee back with Virginity Or if that I had spar'd thy Virgin treasures I would have â—iâ—ed some other pleasures Then gâ—ant thy love to Paris who will be While I live most constant unto thee I will be constant to your own desire My love and life shall both at once expire Before great kingdoms I preserved thee Which royall Iuno promis'd unto me And learning Pallas gift I did refuse And to enjoy thy sweet selfe I did chuse When Lunâ— Venus and fair Paâ—laâ— too Their naked bodies unto me did shew And in the Idean valleys did not grudge In case of beauty to make me their Judge yet I do not repent of my election My mind is constant to my first affection I beseech thee let not my hope prove vain Who spar'd no labour in hope thee to gain Beneath your selfe you need not to decline your biâ—th is noble so is also mine So that if we do match you cannot fail Beneath your birth or be diâ—grac'd at all For if you search into my pedigree Iove and Alâ—ctra are of kin to me And my father Priam doth the Scepter sway Of the great'st kingdom in all Asia Many Cities and sait Houses thou shal see And Temples suiting â—he gods Majestie Thou shalt â—ee Troy with Towers encompass'd round Whose walls Apâ—llo Harpe at first did found Besides there are such store of people there The Land the peopâ—e cannot hardly bear Great troops of Trojans Matrons thou shalt meet And store of Troiâ—n wives in every street The poverty of Gâ—eece thou wilt then pity When thou seest one house as rich as a City yet Spâ—â—ta I cannot contemn with scorn Because thou in that happy Land wert born But Sâ—aâ—ta is poor and cannot afford thee Dressings which with thy beauty may agree That face of thine ought not to be content With some common but a curious ornament And it is fit thou shouldst the old lay by And every day wear some fresh rarity When the habit of the Trojans you do see You may think womens habits richer be Then Hele-grant me love not disdain A Trojan who thy favour would obtain He was a Troian from our blood descended Who with this Heavenly office was befriended To fill Iâ—ve Cup and with water allay The strength of his Nectar and Ambrosia A Troian in Aurora took delight Who doth begin the day conclude the night Ancâ—iâ—es was descended to from Troy Whom the Queen of Love desired to enjoy And did descend in the Idâ—an Vally In amorous ways to sport with him and dally I am a â—roian too and if in truth You should compare my beauty and my youth With Menelaus I suppose that he Sâ—ould not in your choice be preser'd to me By maâ—ching with me thou shalt not be kin To such as bloudy Atâ—â—us hath bin Who with the flesh of men his Horses fed From which sight the Suns frighted Horses fled My Grandfather did not his Brother kill As Mâ—nelaus Grandfather who did spill Myrtiâ—â—s blood who being murder'd so He into the Myrtoan-sea did throw Nor yet our great Grandfather catcheth aâ—ter Like unto Tantalus in the Stygian water Apples and water which are both so nigh His â—ips and yet from his touch'd lips do flie yet if from them thou hast descâ—nded been Iove would me wish to be to thee a kin yet unworthy Menelaus takes delight In thee and doth enjoy thee every night I scarcely can behold thee at the Table And there to look on thee I am not aâ—le For at that very time I observe and find Many things that do much offend my mind For when the banquet is brought in then I Do wish my room unto my enemy For it doth grieve me when I do behold How with his armes he doth thy neck infold And I could blush when he before my face Doth thy small wast so clownishly embrace And it did break my hearâ— when I did see How he would cast his furred gown over thee And when that he would give thee kisses soft I put the cup before my eyes full oft His close imbrâ—ces I did never brooke For I beheld them with a dwon cast looke My meat as if within thy mouth it grew I most uâ—willingly did seem to chew And I sigh'd often which when thou did'st see Thou oftentimes would'st smile and laugh at me Then I would strive to quench my flame with wine But love through drunkennesse most cleare doth shine When I look'd away lest I more should see Thy beauty made me look again on thee It greived me to look on my disgrace But greivâ—d me more not to look on thy face And I dâ—â— strive my passion for to hide But oh dessembled love is soonest spy'd I do not flatter thee thou doâ—st perceive That I did love thee nor could I deceive Thou discern'st my love which I wish may be Known to thy selfe alone and none but thee When tears did spring I turn'd away my head Lest Menâ—laus should aske why I them shed How oâ—t have I told fained tales of love Hoping I might thereby your favour move Under a fained name hoping to move you But it was I indeed did truly love you And that I might my mind more freely speak A wanton drunkennesse I would counterfeit I remember once thy bosom open lay And to my view thy white breasts did betray Thy fair breasts which were far more white in show Than purest milk or the new fallen Snow Or whiter than that Swans fair downy feather When Iupiter and Leda lay together When I beheld them I was so amaz'd My Ring fell from my finger as I gaz'd When thou kissed'st thy Daughter I Would not miss To take thy kisse off With another kisse And sometimes I some ancient song Would sing Of those that heretofore had Lovers been Sometimes by secret signs my love was shown And by a nod or wink I made it known Then to Clynihino and Ethâ—a I did shew My grief and both of them began to wooe Thy waitiâ—g maids who when I had begun They both did leave me before I had done And I do wish the gods had been so bent To have made thee prize of a Turnament That he that got the victory might bear thee Out of the field and he that won thee wear thee As Hippomâ—nes fair Atalanta won Who all her former suiters had out-run Thou in the Phâ—ygian Cities shalt be seen Like Hippodamia brought in like a Queen By Pelops and as stout Aâ—cides brake Achelous horns for Deianira's sake So by some valient adventure I Would win thee by some act of â—ivalry But now I can but beg of thy sweet beauty And at thy feet prostrate my self in duty O thou that art thy brothers onely glory To whom even Jâ—ve himself could not be sorry To be a husband if so be yon were Not by birth descended from Jupiter Either I will return to Troy with thee Or here in thy Laconia buried be
Loves arrow hath so wounded my soft breast That it unto the very bone hath peire'd My sister truly propheciâ—d of me That with loves arâ—ow I should wounded be Then since sweet Hâ—lâ—â— 't is ordainâ—d by fate That I should love thee pity my estate Do not contemn my love but my â—uâ—t heare So may the gods attend unto thy prayer If thou wilt let me lye with thee to night More I could say that should breed thy delight To wrong thy husband so art thou asham'd Or that thy marriage bed should be so stain'd O Helen thou a country conâ—cience hast Dost thou imagine to be fair and chast Either change thy bâ—auty oâ— more loving be For beauty is a foe to Chastity Venus doth love Loves â—â—ol en fruit to gather And Jupiter scapes did make him tâ—y father Then how can'st thou be chast if thou take after Jupiter and Leda Thou art thei daughter May'st thou be châ—st when thou to Troy art brought And for thy rape may I be held in fault Let 's not offend and after mend our life When as Venus promised thou art my wife Besideâ— thy husbands actions do commend The same to thee who that he might be-friend His guest absents himself to give us leasure And opportunity to enjoy pleasure To go to Creâ—te he thought it time most fit O he 's a Man of a honourable wit Which at his departure was well exprest When he bid thee use well his Trojan guest Thy absent husbands will thou dost neglect Thou tak'st no care of me nor me affect Being so senselesse thinkest thou that he Can prize thy beauty or else value thee He cannot for if he had known the danger He had not bid thee be kind to a stranger Although my words nor love cannot move thee Let us improve this opportunity Then thy husband our selves shall shew more folly If we loose time through bashfull melancholly To be thy paramour he offer'd me Make use then of his weak simplicity For thou dost lye alone and so do I ' â—were better if we did together lye Let us injoy our selves for I do say Midnights sport yeilds more pleasure than the day Then thou shalt have fair promises of me And I will bind my selfe to marry thee For I do vow if that thou canst beleive me For one nights lodging iâ—le a Kingdome give thee And if thou canâ—st but so beleiâ—ing be Unto my Kingdome thou shalt go with me That thou followed'st me it shall not be thought For I alone will bear the blame and fault As Thesâ—us did my actions shall be such And his example may thee neerely touch For Theseus did carry thee away Castor and Pollux so did also stray And I will be the fourth my love 's as ample To thee and I will follow their example My Trojan Fleet for thee doth ready stay And when you please we soon may sail away Thou in Troy City shalt live as a Queen Ador'd as if thou had'st some goddesse been And wheresoever thou dost please to be The people shall offer sacrifice to thee Thy kindred and the Trojans shall present Gifts unto thee with humble complement I cannot here describe thy happinesse Far above that my Letter doth express Let not the fear of Wars thy thoughts amaze Or that all Greece will straight great forces raise To fetch thee back who have they fetcht again Beleive me those fears are but fond and vaine The Thracians Orythia took away Yet no wars after troub'ed Thracia Iâ—son from Colchos brought away Medea And yet no wars did wast Thessalia Phaedra and Ariadne stollen were By Theseus yet Minos made no warre Dangers may seem far greater than they are And fear may be without all ground of fear Suppose too if you please wars should ensue yet I by force their forces could subdue My Country can to yours yeild equal forces For it hath store of men and store of horses Nor can your husband Menelaâ— shew More valiant courage than Paris can do For when I was but a young stripling I Did rescue our flocks from the Enemy VVho did intend to drive away them alâ— VVhereon they did me Alexander call And of Ilioâ—eus and Deiphobus I VVhen I was young did get the victory And as in single combate I plaid my part So with my bow I could hit any mark And I know Mâ—nâ—lau was not suâ—h A forward youth nor could he do so much Besides Hectâ—r's my Brother who may stand In account of Souldiers for a whole band My strength and forces are unknown to thee Nor knowest thou what a husband I shall be And therefore either no wars shall ensue Or Trojan forces shall the Greekâ— subdue Yet I could be â—ontent â—or such a wife To fight there 's credit in a noble strife Besides if al the world should fight for thee Thou shalt be famous to posterity Sweet Heleâ— then consent to go with me what I have promis'd shall performed be The Argument of the sixteenth Epistle HElena having read Paris his Epistle in her answer seems at first offended and chides him and for modesties sake objects against his perswasions proving them idle but so that she rather gives then takes away encouragement from him to proceed in his suit thereby shewing a womans crafty wit according to that of Ovid in his Art of Love 〈…〉 triâ—tis Quaeque rogat ne se sollicitare velis Quod rogat illatimet quod non rogat optat ut iâ—stes In sequere c. At first pehaps her Letter will be sowre And on thy hopâ—s her paper seem to lowre In which she will conjure thee to be mute And charge thee to forbear thy hated suit Tush what she most forwarnes she most desires In frosty woods are hid the hottest fires At last she seems to consent to Paris desire advising him as a more safe and honest course not to write his desire but impart his mind to her waiting-maids Clymene and Athra he dealing with them so farre prevailed that he brought both Helena and them to Troy HELENA'S Answer to PARIS SInce thy wanton â—etter did my eyes infect When I did read it why should I neglect To answer it Since to answer it can be No breach of chastity at all in me What bâ—ldnesse was it in thee thus to break All Lawes of hospitatlity and to speak Thus by your Letter therby for to move My affection and solicite me for love Didst thou on purpose saile into our Port That thou might'st wooe me and with fair words court And had not we power to avoid this danger And shut our Palace gaâ—e against a straâ—ger Who dost requite our love with injury Didst thou come as a gueâ—â— or enemy I know my just complaint will seem to thee To proceed from rudenesse and rusticâ—ty Let me seem rude so I preserve my â—ame And keep my honour free from spot or slain Although my countenance be not sad or sowre Though with bent brows I do not sit and lowre yet I
have kept my clear fame without spot No man hath in my Tables found a blot So that I wonder whence thy encouragement Proceedeth that thou shouldest my love attempt Because once Theseus stole me as a prey Shall I the Second time be stolne away It had been my fault had I given consent But being stolne against my will I went And yet he gathered not my Virgin slower He us'd no violence though I was in his power Some kisses onely he did striving gain But no more kindnesse could from me obtain Such is thy wantonnesse thou wouldst not be Like him content alone with kissing me He brought me back untoucht his modesty Seem'd to excuse his former injury And plainly it appear'd that the young man For stealing me grew penetent again But Paris comes when Theseus is fallen off That Helen may be still the worlds scoffe yet with a Lover who can be offended If thy love prove true as thou hast pretended This I do doubt although I do not feare My beauty can command love any where But because women should not soon believe men For men with flattering words do oft deceive them Though other Wives offend and that a fair one Is seldome chast yet I will be that rare one Because thou think my mother did offend By her example you think me to bend My Mother was deceiv'd Iove to her came In the shape of a milk-white feathered Swan If I offend 't is not my ignorance For no mistake can shaddow my offence And yet her error may be happy thought For to offend with greatness is no fault But I should not be happy if I erre Since I should not offend with Iupiter Of royal kindred thou dost boast to me But Ioâ—e'â— the fountain of Nobility Nay though from Jupiter thy self doth spring And Pâ—lops and Atreus be to thee a kin Jupiter's my Father who himself did cover With a Swans feathers and deceiv'd my Mother Go reckon now thy Pedegree of thy Nation And talk of Priâ—m and Laâ—medâ—â— Whom I do reverence yet thou shalt be Remov'd from Jupiter to the fifth degree And I but one and albeit that Troy Be a great land such is this we enjoy Though it for wealth and store of men excell The land is barbourous where thou do'st dwell yet thy Letter promises such gifts to me That goddesses might therewith â—empted be But if I may with modesty thus speak Thy self and not thy gifts may fancy take For either I 'le keep my integrity Or for thy love not gifts I 'le go with thee Though I despise them nor if e're I take Those gifts it shall be for the givers sake For when thy gifts have no power to moâ—e me I do esteem this more tâ—at thou do'st love me And that thou shoul'dst a painfull voyage take Through the rough Seas and all even for thy sake And I do mark thy carriage at the Table Although I to dissemble it am able Sometimes thou wantonly wilt on me glance And put me almost out of countenance Sometimes thou â—ghâ—st and then the cup do'st take And to drink where I did drink do'st pleasure take And so sometimes with thy fingers or a wink Thou closely wouâ—dâ—st expresse what thou didst think And I confesse I have blush't many times Foâ— fear my husband should discern thy signes And oftentimes unto my self I said If he were shamless he would be dismaid And on the Table thou hast many a time Fashon'd and drawn forth with a little wine Those letters whâ—ch my name did plainly show And underneath them thou hast writ Amo. I look't on it but seem'd not to beleive thee But now this word Amo doth also give me By these allurments thou my heart might'st bend If that I would have yeilded to offend I must confess thou haâ—â— a beauteous face Might win a Maid to yeild to thy embrace Let some one rather honestly enjoy thee Then that a strangers love should so destroy me To resist the power of beauty learn by me Vertue abstains from things which pleasing be By how many young men have I wooed been That beauty Paris sees others have seen Thou art more bold but they as much did see Nor hast more courage but less modesty I would thy ship had then arrived here When a thousand youths for my love Suiters were For before a thousand I had preferr'd thee Nay even my husband must have pardon'd me But thou hast stai'd too long and hast so trifle'd That all my Virgin joyes are gon and rifled Thou wert too flow therefore suppress thy flame What thou defir'st another doth obtaine Though to have been thy Wife I do wish still Meneâ—aâ—â— enjoyes me not 'gainst my will Cease with fair words to mollify my breast If you love me let it be so exprest Let me live as fortune hath allotted me Do not seek to corrupt my chastity But Venus promis'd thee in the Idean wood When three nak'd goddesses before thee stood One promised a Kingdome unto thee T'other that thou in wars should'st prosperous be But Venuâ— who was the third in this strife Did promise Helena should be thy wife I scarce believe the goddesses would be In a case of beauty judg'd so by thee Were the first true the latter part is sain'd That she gave thee me for Judgement obtain'd I do not think my beauty such that she Could think to bribe thy judgement by that fee. I am content that men may beauty prize That beauty Vâ—nâ—s praises she envies Ther 's no assurance in a strangers love As they do wander so their love doth rove And when you hope to find most constancy Their love doth coole and they away do flye Wiâ—nesse Ariadne and Hipsiphile Whoâ—e lawlesse ove procur'd their misery And it is said thou did'st Oenon wrong Forsaking her whom thou hadâ—st lov'd so long This by thy self cannot denyed be For know I took care to enquire of thee Besides if thou had'st a desire to prove Constant in thy affection and true love yet thou wouldâ—st be compellâ—d at â—â—â—st to sail And with thy Trojans thou away would'st saile For if the wished night appointed were Thou would'st be gone if that the wind stood fair And when our pleasures grew unto the height Thou would'st be gone if that the wind stood right So by a fair wind I shouâ—d be bereft Of joyes even in the midst imperfect left Or as thou perswad'st shall I follow thee To Troy and so great Priams Daughter be yet I do not so much contemn swift fame That I would stick disgrace upon thy name What would Priam and his Wife think of me With 's Daughters and thy brothers which may be Wâ—at mâ—ght Sparta and Greece of Helen say Or what might Troy report and Asia And how canst thou hope I should faithfull prove And not to others as to thee gâ—ant love So that if a stâ—angers ship do arrive here It will procure in thee a jealous fear And in thy rage call me adulteresse When
me know And through the water I have worn a path Like to those wheel-ruts which a high way hath I complain that I to such shifts was put But now the winds that passage have up shut The Hellespont is rough the waves go high So that ships scarce in Haâ—bour safe do lye And I believe the sea her name fiâ—st found From the Virgin Helle who was in 't drown'd This sea shall by her death infamous be Her name doâ—h shew her guilt though she spare me I envy Iason who did saile to Greâ—câ— And fetch away from thence the golden Fleece In his ship call'd the Ram yet I desire No ship of his this is all I require That the waters of the Hellespont would be So gentle to permit me swim to thee I want no art to swim give leave to me And both the ship and Pilot I will be I will not sail by the great or lesser beare For by such common stars love cannot steare Let oâ—hers on Andromedes star look Or â—adnes Crown to Heaven took Nor yet Calistâ—â— stars which do shine e'ear In the Polar Circle which they call the Beare These stars whâ—câ— by the gods were stellifiâ—d In my doubtfull passage shall not be my gâ—ide But I have a more brighter star than thesâ— My love wil guid me through the darkest seas Oft when my arms gâ—ew tyr'd with weariness That they cannot cut their wayes tâ—rough the seâ—s When I do tell them that to quit their pain They should imbrace hee they would then again To enjoy their prize with such a fresh strength swim Like a swift Horse that doth to ruâ— begin Thou art my star and I will folow thee Rather then all those stars in Heaven be Thou thou art far more worthy for to shine A star in Heaven yet stay on earâ—h thy time Or if thou wilt needs go then shew to me The way to Heaven that I may follow thee Thou aâ—t here yet I the way to thee can't find The roughness of the seas perplex my mind What though the Ocean do not us two parâ— This narrow Sea keeps me from thee sweet-heart If I should in some distant Countrey be It would cut off all hope of seeing thee But now I am inflam'd with more desire And burn the more the nearer to the fire And though the thing I wish for absent be yet I do â—ope for that I cannot see That which I love I almost seem to touch Which makes me weep to think my hopes are such I catch at Apples which from me do flâ— Like â—antâ—lus or the stream which glides by Shall I then nâ—veâ— be possest of thee Untill the winds and sea so pleased be When wind and water fickle be shall I Upon the vvind and water still relie Shall I be hindred by the raging seas The Goats Boote or the Plejades If I have any courage thou shalt see Love shall embolden me to swim to thee And if I promise I will come awaâ— And perform promise witâ—out all delay If seas continue still their raging anger I 'le try to swim to thee in despight of danger Either my bold attempt shall â—appy prove Or death shall give an end unto my love Yet do I wish my boâ—y may be driven Like to a wrack to thy beloved haven Then thou wilt weep on it and say ' was I Was the occasion that this man did dye I know when thou hast in my Lâ—tter sound This word of death thou wilt hate the sad sound Fear not but that the sea may now inclinâ— To calmnesse joyn your prayers I pray with mine If it were calm untill I did swim thither Arriv'd again let it be blustring weather In the Haâ—bour of thy Castle I 'le abide And in thy chamber at safe Anchor ride Let blustring Boâ—â—as strongly there inclose me I delight â—o stay there though he oppose me For then I will be woaâ—y and most slack To venture to return or to swim back On the deaf billowes I 'le not rail in vain Nor on the rough and raging sea complain The winds and thy embraces should keep me Wind-bound and love-bound still to stay with thee Yet soon as the sea permits I 'le begin To use my armes and unto thee I 'le swim And â—e thou carefull to put sorth a light Vpon thy turrer to direct my sight Vntill then let my Letter lodge this night With thee as Haâ—binger of my delight Which though it go before me I do pray That I may â—olloâ— it without delay The Argument of the eighteenth Epistle HEre having received Leanders Letter answereth it with many eâ—pressions of a mutual affection and invites him to haâ—ten his comming that she might injoy his company sometimes accusing his slacknesse thereby to sheâ— the â—incerity and integrity of her own love sometimes inveâ—ghing against the Sea sometimes fearing lest be loved some other then recanting that suspition ascribing it to the custome of Lovers who are apt to suspition Lâ—stly shâ—e perswadeâ— hâ—m not to expose himâ—elf to the mercy of the Sâ—â— untill it grow calm HERO to LEANDER THat health Leanâ—er which thou sent'st in word Come and more realâ—y to me afford For our joyes are deferred by thy stay And my love growes impatient of delay Our love is equal but I am the weaker For men are oâ— a stout and stronger nature Maids have a tender body and soâ—t mind If thou do stay I shall with grief be pâ—n'd You mâ—n cansâ—end the tedious time and leasure In hunting or some other countrey pleasure Or sometimes you can go unto the Court Or in riding or tilting take your sport you often Hawk and Angle many a time And spend some houâ—s in drinking of rich wine But unto me love doth a torment prove I have no busineâ—s here to do but love Thou onely art a pleasure unto me I love thee more than can believed be For either with my Nurse I talk of thee Wondring what stayeth thy comming unto me Or looking to the Sea sometimes I chide The sea 'cause it doth still so rough abide or when I see the sea is calmer grown I think that when thou mai'st thou wilt not come While I complain sad tears spring in my eyes Which with a trembling hand my old Nurse dryes Then I do look if any print remaâ—n of thy foot-steeps which the sands yet retain And oftentimes I enquire if any be Bound to Abydos so to write to thee And I do kisse thy clothes thou didst leave here When thou didst swim the Hellespont without fear When day is done and the more friendly night With spang'ed stars hath put the day to flight Then I set out a light for a land-mark Upon my Tower to guid thee in the dark And then sometimes with spinning I assay To pass the time which runs so slow away And that I may the tedious hours beguile I talk of my Lâ—â—nder all the while And to my â—urse I speak thus dost not thou Think that my
joy and love is coming now Or think'st thou that his friends watch him that he Is hindred so from coming unto me Dost thou 〈◊〉 think that he even now begins To put off his cloaths and annoint his limbs yes sayes my old Nurâ—e who did strive to keep Time with her head while she did nodding sleep And senselesse of all love car'd not though I Did want thy kisses and sweet company Then I should say to her a little after Now I do think â—e's in swiming through the water And having drawn my threed forth I would say Now I do think he is in the middle way Then I look'd forth and feaâ—fully dâ—d pray The w'nd would favour thee upon the way Sometimes I listned unto every voice Thinking thou wert come if I heard a noise Thus I would spend most of the night till sleep Upon my weary eyes by stealth did creep And sometimes thou sleep'st with me in my dreâ—m And art come though â—o come thou dost not mâ—an And now methinks that in my dream I see Thee swmming now thou art imbracing me And now to cloath thy wet limbes I do strive And in my warm bosome do thee revive And other things I dream of which must be Concealed at this time for modesty For that which in the doing pâ—eas'd us well yet being done it is a shâ—me to tell But woe is me these pleasures are soon done For when thy dream doth vanish thou are gone O let us at the length more firmly meet That our joyes may be real and moâ—e sweet VVhy have I lain so many nights from thee And why doâ—â— thou delay to swim to me Though the Seas yet for swiming unfit are yet yester night the winds more calmer were And why didst thou then fear to come to me VVhy didst not use that opporâ—unity Though you have another season yet at least Because this was the first this was the best The ficle sea doth quickly change her face But thou canst swim it in a little space And suppose winds and storms should keep thee here VVhile I imbrace thee thou needst nothing fear Then I would have the winds blow high enough And I would pray the seas might still be rough But why dost thou the winds and Seas now fear VVhich formerly by thee despised were For I remember thou didst swim to me VVhen the Seas were as rough as now they be VVhen I did wish thee not so rash to be Lest thy rashness should make me weep â—or thee But where is all thy courage now become Who through the Hellespont hast often swom Yet do not thou such rash adventures make But when the sea is calm thy journey take If thou dost love me still as thou dost write And that our flame of love burns clear and bright I fear not winds so much that crosse my mind As that thy love should prove sicle as wind Or that thou think'st me unworthy to enter Such dangers and for my sake to adventure And sometimes I am very much afraid Lest thou of Abydos scorn'st a Sestâ—n maid But it would gâ—â—eve me more then all the rest If thou shouldst love another Sweet-heart best Or if some Harlots armes should thee Embrace While that her new love doth the old displace O may I dye before that I do see My self in such a manner wrong'd by thee yet do I not write this becauâ—e that I From thee or fame have cause of jealousie yet still I fear who can securely love For absence doth often suspition move Those lovers are happy that present are And know when to be Jealous when not to fear We vainly fear and slight true injuries And nourish in our breast fond jealousies O would st thou come or else would I might find No woman hinders thee but the fierce wind Which when I know believe me I shall die VVith griâ—f to think upon thy injury For if that thou hâ—dst a desire to send Me to my grave thou might'st before offend But thou wilt not offend my fears are vain I know the winters stormes do thee detain VVoe's me the billowes do go rough and high And obscure clouds do darken all the sky Or Helles Mother makes the sea waves weep While they her Daughters obsequies do keep Or Iunâ— her step motâ—er now doth please Chang'd to a goddesse â—huâ— to vex the seas This â—ea unto young maids uâ—kind doth prove It drowned Hellâ— and doth câ—osse my love If Neptune his own love had call d to mind Our love had not been câ—ost so by the wnd It is no fable that thou didst approve Of fair Amyâ—nons and her didst love Alcyone and Ceyce th Sweet hearts were And Mâ—dusa before she had snaky hair Laodice and Celaeno Plejades And many I have read of besides these O Nâ—ptunâ— thou these Sweet-hearts had'st in store As Poets do report and many more Since thou so oft the forcâ— of love didst prove Why still from commâ—ng dost thou stay my love Spare us let stormes rage in the Ocean wide The Sea dotâ— two parts of the world divide For thee to tosse great ships it is most meet Or express thy rage in scattering a Fleet. To distuâ—b these seas can no glory be Or to hinder a young man would swim to me For know Leandeâ— nobly is descended Not from Vlysses ill of thee befriended Preserve us both for while that he doth swim He 's in the water but my life 's in him But now my candle by whose watchful light As it stood by me I these lines did write began to sparkle at that very time Which he did take to be a happy signe And my Nurse put wine to it to maintain The Lampâ— and cherish the reviving flame Sayes she here will be strangers I do think To morrow and with these words she doth drink Leander come and let our number be Increas'd for I do love thy company Leander unto thy own love return For why should I still lye alone and mourn Thou hast no cause thus fearfull still to be Venus will calm the sea and favour thee Sometimes to wade through the sea I begin But this sea hath to women fatall bin For Iason over it in safety came But a woman give to these seas their name If thou fear'st thou should'st want strength to performe This double labour to come and return Let us in the midst of the sea both meet And with a kisse each other kindly greet Then to our Cityes both return again This would some comfort be though it were vain I would that we had no regard of Fame Which makes us love in secret nor of shame For love and fearfullnesse do ill agree That perswades to pleasure this to modesty When that young Iason did to Colchos come He bore away Medea with him soon Soon as Paâ—is to Lacedemon came He straight returned with his prey again Thou com'st to me but leavest me behind And swim'st when ships can scarce a passage find But my Leanâ—er have a care
hereafter Not only to despise but fear the water Strong ships unto the sea are made a scorn Think st thou thy armes can more than Oars perform The Mariners Lâ—ander fear to swim Till they are forc'd when they have ship-wrackt bin VVo's me I peâ—swade 'gainst that I require Let not my words discourage thee I desire VVith thy arms wim through the seas which being done Embrace me with those â—rms when thou art come But as oft as I to the blew seas look My heart is with a sudden cold fear strook And I am troubled with my last nights dream Though I sacrificâ—d 'gainst that it did mean About morning when the Candle sleepy grew And winâ—'d when dreams most usually are true Out of my crowsie fingers sell my thread And on my pillow I did rest my head When in my dream I thought that I had seen A Dolphin that on the rough waves did swim VVhich the waves cast up on the shore and left Upon the boiling sands of life beâ—est I know not what this might presage or mean Stay till the Sea be calm slight not my dream If thou wilt not spare thy self spare tâ—ou me My life and happiness consists in thee I hope the rough seas will grow calm then stay And through the calm seas cut thy gentle way And till then since thou can'st not swim nor come Let this Letter make the time not seem long The Argument of the nineteenth Epistle AContius going to Diana's sacrifice which were celebrated by Virgins in Delos the chiefest I stand of all the Cycledes in the Aegean sea fell in love with Cydâ—â—pe a noble Maid but he in regard of the inequality of his birth not daâ—ing to solicite her love did cunningly write on a fair Apple these two verses Iuro tiâ—i sane per mystica sacra Diana Me tibi venâ—uâ—am comitem sponâ—amqueâ—uturam By Diana's sacred rites I swâ—ar to thee Thy loving Confort and Wife I will be And so he cast the Apple at the Maids feet who ignorant of his cunning reading it at unawars she promiâ—ed that she would be wife to 〈◊〉 For it waâ— a law that was spoken before the gods in the â—empâ—e of Diana should be â—atified So that Acontius endeavoâ—rs in this Eâ—stle to perswade her that Diana had inslâ—cted sicknesse on her because she had violated her promise made in the goddesses presencâ— And to allure her to his dâ—stres his Exordium endeavours to make her câ—nâ—ident to read without any suspition of deceit like the former Afterward he strives to make her husband contemptible in her sight perswading her that he was the cause of all her sicknesse ACONTIUS to CYDIPPE BE not afâ—raid since that thou shalt not swear â—s thou didst before to thy Lover here For thou didst swear enough at that same time VVhen thou didst pâ—omise that thou wouldst be mine Râ—ad it and so may the sicâ—ness leave thee And pâ—ins whâ—ch also are a pain to me For why shou'd tâ—y ingenuous cheeks be spred As in 〈◊〉 â—emple with blushing red Since to perform thy promâ—se I do move thee And not loosely but as a husband love thee For i◠〈◊〉 words ' thou wouldâ— but call to mind VVhicâ— I did write upon the Apples rinde And cast before thee being read by thee In â—eading it â—hâ—u didst promise to me Even â—hat which I do now of thee desiâ—e My words and faith do not at oncâ— expire When Diana depriv'd thee first of health I fear'd it Virgin think upon thy self And now I fear the same for now at length The flame oâ— love in me haâ—h gotten strength My strong affection doth â—neâ—ease and grow Encourag'd by that hope which you did shew Thou gav'st me hope from thee it did proceed Diana is a witness to thy deed For thou didst swear by Diana's majesty Acomâ—â—â— I do mean to marry thee And to these words which from thy mouth then went Diana bow'd in token of consent If thou dost urge thou weâ—t deâ—eiv'd by me The deceit came from love my love fâ—om thee Seeking thereby to thee to be united That should win favour wherewith thou art frighted I 'me not so crafty by nature or use Thy beauty doth this craftinesse infuse Ingenious love and not my art first joyn'd Those words which thee to me did firmly bind For love this cunning trick to me disclos'd And words of marriage into lines compos'd yet let this Act of mine deceitfull prove If it be deceit to get what we love And now I write for favour I intrear Complain of this if this be a ceceiâ— If loving thee an injury I do thee Though thou forbid me I will love and woe thee Some have by force their Sweet-hearts away brought To write a Letter shall it be a fault Since that a Letter a new knot doth tye Of that promis'd love between thee and I. Though thou art coy to me yet I shall make thee More kind and I do know that I shall tâ—ke thee For albeit thou scape out of this net Thou shalt not scape all those which love can set And if that gentle means and art do fail Then force against thy coinesle shall prevail I do not hold that Paris was in fault or those who their desires by force have sought And so will I although that death should be His sad reward that ventures to steal thee Wert thou lesse fair my suit would be more cold But now thy beauteous face doth make me bold My flame of love proceeds from thy fair eyes Which do out shine the bright stars in the skies And from thy white neck which thy brown hair graces And from thy armes fit onely for imbraces Thy modest countenance also taketh me Where silent beauties sweetly placed be Thy feet like ivory are so pure and white That Thetis I suppose hath not the like I were happy if I might praise the rest Thy parts summ'd up together would be best It is no wonder since thou art so fair If by thy own words I did thee insnare For if thou should'st confess thy self to be Taken by my deceit and treachery Let me beaâ— the envy of it and blame So that I may the fruits of love obtain Achilles did by force fair Brisâ—â—s take yet she lov'd him and would not him forsake Fâ—nd fault with what thou wilt and angry be So that in danger I may enjoy thee I that have mov'd your anger will appease you And if you give me leave I 'le strive to please you For I will stand before you and there weep VVhile my tears with my words due time shall keep And like some servant that correction fears I hold my hands up and beg with my tears Assume your right I 'me a â—â—ave to your bâ—auty Be you my Mistriss and teach me my duty Although that you should striâ—e me and should tear In an imperious manner my long hair I 'le suffer all and onely affraid be Left you should hurt your â—and with striking me Thou
compell not perswade My love by promises on thy part made What doth my former oath now profit thee Though I call'd Diana it to testifie It is the mind that swears but my tongue went And swore this oath without my minds consent An oath should be took with a knowing mind Therefore a rash oath hath no power to bind If willingly I promis'd unto thee Marriage thou might'st then seek it now of me But if those words I unâ—wars did speak Thou stand'st on words that are but vain and weak I did not swear therefore thou canst not be By reading those words a husband unto me If such false oaâ—hs to bind effectual were To grow rich in short time thou need'st not fear For all the Kings in the world may resigne Their right unto thee by reading a line Thou art greater then Diana believe me If in thy words so great a power there be yet though my oath and thy love here I flight And have strongly pleaded my case is right yet I confesse I fear Diana's wrath Who now I doubt thus me afflicted hath For as often as I do intend to marry I do fall sick and so am sorc'd to tarry Thrice Hymen now unto my bed-side came And finding me sick he went back again And with his tired hand he scarce could light His Torch or make it to burn clear and bright Sometimes with powders he perfumes his hair While he his yellow saffron robe doth weare But when unto my chamber he doth come And beholds rears and weeping he is gone He pluck's the Garland from his shineing hair And tears the flowers in it placed were Such mourning doth with him so ill agree That his blushing cheeks red as his robe be VVhile a hot feaver now tormenteth me So that I think the bed-cloaths heavy be I see my parents for me weep and rage Who am now nearer death then marriage O Dâ—anâ— that dost wear thy painted quivâ—r Help me now by Apolle's skill thy brotâ—er Since he can cure the sick then why should I To thy disgrace without thy heâ—p nere dye VVhâ—n thou dâ—dst bathe thy self I ne're mistaked Like rash Actâ—on who beheld thee naked On thy altars I have often sacrific'd Tâ—y mother was not by my mother despis'd This only was my fault that I had read A perjur'd verse and â—as â—â—â—reby deceiv'd Tâ—erefore Acâ—â—t us for my sake now bring To Diana's alter thy own offering If that the goddesse be offended with me Then to be thine why doth the hinder me For if that she do take away my life Thou canst not hope that I should be thy wiâ—e He that should be my Husband doth not stand By my bed and lift me up with his hand He sits indeed on my beds side but he Attempts no action of immodesty And knows not what to think of me at all When wâ—thout cause teers from my eyes do fall He seldome doth a kisse to me impart And with a fearfull voyce cals me Sweet-heart I wonder my disdain he hath not spy'd For when he comes I turn on my left fide I will not speak but sleep I counterfeit And puâ—l my hand back when he would take it Then does he fetch a deep sigh because I Am offended with him he knows not why VVhen as in truth if I should speak my mind Cause in â—y sufferings thou dost pleasure find Thou dost deserve our angeâ— who didst set Thy cunning toylâ—â— to catch me in thy net Why dost thou write thou would'st â—ain visit me Since in thy absence thou hast wounded me Why thou art call'd Acontius I have found Cause like an arrow thou far off dost wound That wound is not yet healed which no darâ— But these words I read gave unto my heart Why should'st thou come and here behold me lie The wretched Trophy of thy victory For now my bloudlesse colour doth quite fail And I am like tâ—y Apple wan and pale My white cheeks are not lightly stain'd with red Like spored marble newly polished But like the colour of a silver Cup When with cold water it is filled up â—f thou sawest me I should not seem the same As when by Art thou sought'st my love to gain My promise thou wouldst willingly remit And aske the goddesse to be freed from it And thou wilt send me then another line That I may sweâ—r that I shall ne're be thâ—â—e Yet pretheâ— come since thou desir'st the same And see if thou canst know me now again Though Acontiuâ— thy breast like Iron be Thou would'st pray the goddesse to pardon me yet I would have thee know we askt Appollo To regain health what course I ought to follow And as fame doth repoâ—â— he answered I Was punish'd for my infidelity And thus the gods in Oracle answer'd me Who to thy desires favourable be Whence comes it but because these cunning Letters In the Apple writ make the gods thy debtors Since thou dost rule the gods thou must rule me And therefore willingly I yield to thee I told my mother how I had betray'd My self to thee at which she was dismay'd you must contrive the rest for I have done Already I fear more then doth become A Virgin since in this Letter you see I freely do unfold my mind to thee Now my weak joynt◠〈◊〉 weary of enditing And my sick hand is tired wiâ—h long writing So hoping that we shall together meet My Letter with a farewell doth thee greet The Argument of the one and twentieth Epistle PHaon being sometimes a â—oatmanâ— Venus came unto him and desired to be carried over the water gratis which he did not knowing her to be a goddesse whereupon she gave him a box of oyntment wherewith anoynting himself he became so beautiful that all the women in the Isle Lesbes were in love with him and especially Sappho did impatiently affect him But when Phaon went to Sicily Sappho out of the heat of her love and feare of his disdain desperately resolved to throw her self into the Sea from Lucas a Promâ—utorie of Spire Bâ—t yet unconstant to her first resolve â—he endeavours by this Epistle to recal him back and gain his love of which she formerly despaired and to win him to a dislike of his present estate and manner of life Lastly she useth all Arguments that might move him to pity And in this Epistle Ovid hath most lively exprest the soft and amorous affections of love SAPHO to PHAON SOon as thou do'st behold my studious hand â—hence the Letter comes do'st thou understand Or unlesse in it thou Sâ—phâ—es name read Do'st thou not know from whence it doth proceed Thou may'st wonder why I in this verse vvrite Since I in Lyrick numbers do delight The weeping Elegy will fitting prove To sute unto our sad and mournfull loâ—e But in light Lyrick verses there appears No doleful harmony that mry suâ—e tears For as a feild of corn on fire whose flame The Eastern wind doâ—h blow up and maintain Doth burn apace being fanned
and gentle are than thy false mind To untimely death I would not have thee come Although deserv'd while thou from meÌ„ dost run Is thy life so cheap or hatred such at most That thou wilt leave me though thy life it cost The winds and waves their fury will appease When Triâ—on drives his blew steeds o're the seas Would thy affections would change with the wind They will if thou bear'st not a cruel mind Had'st thou not known the Seas what wouldst thou do Since having try'd it thou wilt trust it too Though to weigh Anchor the smooth sea perswade thee Yet in the Ocean dangers may invade thee The sea doth favour no unfaithful men But for unfaithfulness doth punish them Specially such as do their sweet-hearts wrong Since naked Venus from the green sea sprung I take care for him that would me forsake And am afraid the sea should thee ship-wrack Live for bad fame is worse then death can be When the world shall say that thou hast kill'd me Suppose a storm at sea should thee assail Would not thy courage then begin to quail Thy false oaths then would come into my mind And Dido whom thou killd'st by being unkind My bloody shape would hideously appear Before thy eyes with loose long-spreading hair Then thou wouldst say this thundring storm is sent Justly for my deserved punishment Untill thou maist go safely do but stay It would comfort me if thou wouldst delay Thy voyage spare Ascanius thy son Though I by thee to untimely death do come What have Ascanius or those gods deserv'd Drowning which were by thee from fire preserv'd But though thou bragd'st to me yet I do fear Thy gods and father thou didst never bear Upon thy shoulders through the flaming fire But I am jealous that thou wert a lyer For I am not the first whom thou didst wrong Or first deceive with thy alluring tongue Ascanius mother too by thee was left And thy unkindness her of life bereft Thou told'st me so much which I now believe And the sad story made my heart to grieve And that the gods do hate thee it appears VVho hadst wander'd by Sea and Land seven years Droven by storms I did thee entertain And gave thee all ere I scarce knew thy name And would that I had only been content To have entertain'd thee and no further went For I should happy be if Fame would die And never tell how I with thee did lie That day was fatal when a showre us drave To meet together in a silent Cave Me thought I heard the Nymphs begin to howle The Furies at that present time did scowle Now thou dost punish me for Sichaeus sake To whom my faith I then did violate And sure my ghost will even blush for shame VVhen after death we two do meet again Sichaeus Statue in a sacred place Stands cover'd with leaves and a woollen case From whence me thought a hollow voice did say And sometimes call Elisa Come away I come and yet the fault that I have done Is the cause that I am so slow to come Pardon me since that no base fellow wrought My ruine and this may excuse my fault Since he from Venus and Anchises came I hopâ—d that he faithful would remain And though I err'd I had a good intent Of his falshood not my error I repent But as at first so now at last I find That fortune still doth prove to me unkind My brother at the sacred Altar kill'd My husband and his blood for wealth he spill'd And after like a banisht creature I From my own Country was enforc'd to fly Scaping my brother strangers here receiv'd me And bought this land which I would have giv'n thee And built this City compassing it withall Even round about with a defensive wall Then sudden wars did me straightway invade Before that I the City gates had made And many suiters did of me approve Who all did come to wooe and win my love Now to Iarbas I yeild me up at leasure Since thou hast obtain'd of me thy own pleasure My brother in my blood desires to stain His hand by whom my husband first was slain Aeneas do not thou presume to touch The Altars of those gods who would too much By thy presumptuous prayers be profan'd Lift not unto the gods an impure hand For if to worship them thou shouldst aspire They would be sorry that they scap'd the fire And that I am with Child too it may be And that the fruits of love now grow in me And as thou hast the mother first undone So to untimâ—ly death my babe shall come So that Ascanius his unborn brother Shall die like an unripe fruit in his mother But Mercury for staying here hath chid thee I would he had for coming too forbid thee And I do with the Trojans had ne're found Nor landed on the Carthaginian ground Tost with contrary winds thou hast long time Sougâ—t that land which Apollo did assign To return to Troy thou wouldst not take such pain If Hector liv'd and Troy did stand again Thou seek not Simoeis but swift Tybris River And shalt be a stranger when thou comest thither Which thou shalt not discover nor behold Untill perhaps thou art in years grown old But rather take this Kingdom and the wealth Of Pigmalion as a dowry to my self Let ancient Troy in Carthage now remain Take thou the Royal Scepter and here raign If thou or else thy young son Iulus are Desiroâ—s to get honour by the war Here thou shalt find a foe to overcome For sometimes the red colours and the drum Do banish peace therefore I intreate of thee As thou lov'st thy Countries gods and company Spare me I beg it by thy brothers darts Young Cupid that doth wound all mortal hearts So may thy Trojans still victorious be And Troys destruction end thy misery So may Ascanius in his youth be blest So may Anchises bones still softly rest Though I offer thee my self do not reject me What is my fault but that I do affect thee I am not come of the Mycenian blood By friends or father thou art not withstood Or if to call me wife thou do'st disdain Call me thy Hostess I will take that name Or with any other name thou shalt assign I am content so Dido may be thine I know the seas that beat the Affrick shoar At certain seasons may be passed o're When the wind stands fair thou wilt sail away Now thy ships in the weedy heaven stay The time of thy departure let me know I le not stay thee if thou desir'st to go But yet thy company desire some rest To rig and trim thy torn ships were best O! if I have deserved any way Of thee I beg of thee a while to stay Untill the sea grow calme and till my love By use of time more temperate do prove That I may learn by length of time to be Valiant in suffering of adversity If not to kill my self