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
with his childrens wickedness commanded the innocent infant to be cast forth unto Doggesâ— and by one of his guard sent a sword to Canace as a silent remembrance of her desert wherewith she killed her self Yet before her death she declares by this Epistle to Macareus who was fled into the Temple of Apollo her own misfortune entreating him to gather up the childes bones and lay them with hers in the same Urne or funeral Pitcher CANACE to MACAREUS IF blotted Letters may be understood Receive this Letter blotted with my blood My right hand holds a pen my left a sword My pâ—per lyes before me on the boord Thus Canace doth to her brother write This posture yields my father much delight Who I do wish would a spectator be As he is Author of my Tragedy Who fiercer then winds blowing from the East With dry cheeks would behold my wounded breast For since to rule the winds he hath commission He 's of his subjects cruel disposition Over the Northern and South winds he reignes The wings of th' East and West winds he restrains And yet although the winds he doth command His sudden anger he cannot withstand The Kingdom of the winds he can restrain But over his own vices cannot raign For what although my Ancestors have been Unto the gods and Iupiter akin Now in my fearful hand I hold a sword That fatal gift which must my death afford O Macarâ—us would that I had dy'd Before we were in close embraces ty'd More then a sister ought I did affect thee More then a brother ought thou didst respect me For I did feel how Cupid with his dart Of whom I oft had heard did wound my heart My colour straightway did wax green and pale My stomack to my meat began to fail I could not sleep the night did seem a year I often sigh'd when no body did hear Yet why I sighed I no cause could shew I lov'd and yet what love was did not know My old Nurse found out how my pulse did move And she first told me that I was in love But when I blushed with a down-cast look Which silent signes she for confession took But now the burthen of my swelling womb Grew heavy being to full ripeness come What herbs and medicines did not she and I Use to enforce abortive delivery Conceal'd from thee Yet Art could not prevail The quickned child grew strong our Art did fail And now nine Moons were fully gone and past The tenth in her bright Chariot made great hast I know not whence my sudden gripes did grow Nor what pains belong'd to childbirth did know I cry'd out but my Nurse my words did stay And stopt my mouth as I there crying lay What shall I do gripes force me to complain But my Nurse and fear of crying-out restrain So that I did suppress my groans and cryes And drunk the tears that flow'd down from my eyes While thus Lucina did deny her aid Fearing my fault in death should be betray'd Thou by my side most lovingly didst lye Tearing thy hair to see my misery And with kind words thy sister thou didst cherish Praying that two might not at one time perish And thou didst put me still in hope of life Saying dear sister thou shalt be my wife These words reviv'd me when I was half dead So that I presently was brought to bed Thou didst rejoyce but fear did me afright To hide it from my father Aeolus sight The careful Nurse the new born childe did hide In Olive boughs with swadling vine leaves ty'd And so a solemn sacrifice did fain The people and my father believ'd the same Being near the gate the child that straight did cry To his grandfather was betray'd thereby Aeolus tearing forth the child discries Their cunning and pretended sacrifice As the sea trembles when light winds do blow Or as an Aspen leaf shakes to and fro Even so my pale and trembling limbs did make The bed whereon I lay begin to shake He comes to me my fault he doth proclaim And he could scarce from striking me contain I could do nothing else but blush and weep My tongue ty'd up with fear did silent keep He commanded my sâ—n should be straightway Cast forth and made to beasts and birds a prey And then it cry'd so that you would have thought His crying had his Grandfather besought To pity him what grief it was to me Dear brother you may guess when I did see When â— saw my châ—lde caâ—ried to the Wood To feed the mountain Wolves that live by blood When thus my child unto the woods was sent My father out of my bed-chamber went Then I did beat my tender breast at last And tore my cheeks his sentence being past When straightway one of my Fathers Guard came in And with a sad look did this message bring Aeolus sends this sword and doth desire Thee use it as thy merit doth require His will quoth I be done I 'le use his sword My Fathers gift shall my sad death afford O Father shall this sword the portion be And dowry which you mean to give to me O Hymen put out thy deceived light And nimbly now betake thy self to fight Ye Furies bring your smoaky Torches all To light the wood at my sad funeral O sisters may you far more happ'ly marry Than I that by my own fault did miscarry Yet what could be my new-born babes offence Which might his Grandfather so much incense Of death alas he could not worthy be For my offence he 's punished for me O Son thou breed'st thy mother much annoy No sooner bred but beasts do thee destroy O Son the pledge of my unhappy love One day thy day of birth and death doth prove I had not time t'imbalme thee with my tears Nor in thy funeral fire to throw thy hairs To give thee one cold kiss I had no power For the wild greedy beasts did thee devoure But I sweet child will straightway die with thee I will not long a childless Parent be And thou O brother since it is in vain For me to hope to see thee once again Gather the small remainder which the wild And salvage beast have left of thy young child And with his mothers bones let them have room Within one â—â—ne or in one narrow Tomb. Weep at my funeral who can reprove thee For shewing love to her that once did love thee And here at last I do entreat thee still To perform thy unhappy sisters will For I will kill my self without delay And so my fathers hard command obey The Argument of the twelfth Epistle JAson being a lusly comely young man assoon as he arrived at Colchos Medea the Daughter of Aeta King of Colchos and Hecate fancied and entertained him and upon promise of marriage instructed him how he should obtain the beauty he desired Having gotten the golden Fleece he fled away with Medea Her father Aeta pursuing after them she tears in pieces her brother
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
mayst restore us both to health Which if thou gâ—ant when the Trumpets proclaâ—m Diana's solemn sacraâ—ice again I 'le offer a golden Apple and on it These two verses shall be most fairly wâ—it Acâ—ntius thâ—s Apple offer'd to testiâ—y The gods the words writ in 't did ratify Lest a longer Letter try tâ—ee being weake I have but one word more to write or speak And in the usuall way as all can tell I will conclude my letter here Farewell The Argument of the twentieth Epistle WHen Cydippe understood that offended Diana had inflicted this Feaver on her she condescended to Acontius desire against her parents will rather than to endure the torment of her sicknesse First sâ—e answers that she durst not â—ead his Epistle aloud lest he should be deceived with the fallacy of an oath as she was in reading the lines writ on the Apple Then amplifying the deceit of that Apple she â—ovies against Acontius CYDIPPE to ACONTIUS IN silence I thy Letter read for fear Lest unawares I by the gods should swear I think again thou would'st have cosened me But that I have promised my self to thee I read it lest if I unkind should seem Diana should have more offended been Though to Diana I do incense offer yet she defends that wrong which thou didst proffer And if I may give credit unto thee For thy sake â—he with sickness visits me Vnto Hâ—ppolytus she was not so kind For at her hand more favour thou dost find A Virgin of a Virgin should take care Althoâ—gh I have not long to live I fear I am sick yet the causes of my grief Physicians know not nor can yeild releif How sick am I while I these lines do writ I scâ—rce can 〈◊〉 within my bed upwright I fear lest any but my Nurse should find That we by Letters do exchange our mind To visitants while she the dore doth keep To give me time to write she sayes I sleep When this colour the matter cannot hide Lest by sleeping too long truth be discri'd If some â—ome who to deny 't is unfitting She gives me then a famed sign by spitting Then I break off and lest it should be spy'd In my trembling bosome the Letter hide When they are gone then I do write again Thus in the midst of pains I take great pain Which did'st thou deserve I could undertake Then thou deserv'st I 'le do more for thy sake For thy sake I this sicknesse do sustain And for thy imposture thus punisht am And thus my beauty which did please thy sight Hath hurt thy self by yeilding thee delight If I had appear'd deformed unto thee No sickness had procur'd my misery Praise is my ruin and while you both woe me 'T is my own beauty that doth thus undo me And while both will not yield both will be mine you hinder his desire he hinders thine I am like a ship the wind drives amain To Sea but stâ—ong tides drive it back again My marriage day which my Parents would see Is at hand but a feaver troubleth me And while the thought of martiage doth me mock Death even at my door begins to knock Which though I am not guilty makes me fear Soâ—e of the gods with me offended are Some think my sickness hath but cauâ—ual been Or the Gods would not have me marry him And that thou may'st no think fame doth detect thee For poisoning of my self they do suspect me The cause is hide but yet my grief lies open you do contend but I with grief am broken Tell me and do not unkindly reject me What is thy hate if thy love doth afflict me If sâ—ch thy love be love thy enemy But I intreat thee that thou would'st spare me What hope to obtain my love canst thou cherish When thou do'st let me by a feaver perish If to Diana thou do'st pray in vain Why do'st thou â—oast what thou canst not obtain Either thou canst not Diana pacifie If thou canst but are unmindfull of me I would that I â—ad Delos never known At least at that time had not to it gone My ship unhappily did sail that day And through the blew seas cut her fatal way Unluckily out of my house I did slip When I did go aboard my fainted ship Twice the winds â—o our sailes contrary were yet now I think on 't the winds did stand fair It was a fair wind that did drive me back That my unhappy journey I might slack Would it had been contrary to my mind But t is folly to complain 'gainst the wind For famous Delos I desire to see Me thought my ship sail'd slowly under me Iâ—â—id the Oars because that they did fail And we thought they put out too little sail Having pass'd Tenos and Andros the white Cliffes of fair Delos came within my sight And to the Isâ—e I said why do'st me shun Do'st still store in the Sea 'las thou hast done I landed when the Sun had run his course And began to unyoak his purple horse Next day when in the East they harnes'd were My mother bid me combe and dress my hair She gave me Rings my hair with gold she drest And put on me apparell of the best To the gods of tâ—e Island we did dispense Our guiâ—ts and offered yellow frankinsence And while my Mother bedewing with bloud The smoaking Altar sacraficing stood My caâ—efull Nurse led me another way While she and I through sacred places stray We walk about while we admired there The gifts of Kings and Images there were We admir'd Apollos Altar and the tree That help'd Latâ—na in child delivery And all that had in Delos famous been We saw and more than yet hath mention'd been And here Acontius thou dost cast a look On me conceiving I might be soon took I return'd to Diana's Temple that hath Fair steps and what place ought to be more safe Thou threw'st an Apple for me with this verse Which I was ready again to rehearse My Nurse took 't up and wondring wished me To read it so I read thy treachery When to this word of marriage I came I felt that both my cheeks did blush for shame And when my eyes had serv'd thy turn to read These lines I looked down and hung my head But yeâ— what glory hast thou got theâ—eby To deceive a Maid is no victory I stood not with my Axe and bucler there As Pâ—athâ—silea did at Troy appear No gold belt from me thou did'st bear away Like that was taken fâ—om Hyâ—pollâ—ta Then why should'st thou rejoyce to â—ave betray'd By thy deceitful wâ—rds a harmlesse Maid An Apple deceiv'd Aâ—alanta and Cyâ—ippe Thou shalt another Hippoâ—enes be But if that wanton Boy did thee enflame VVhose quiver thou saist doth Loves shasts contain VVhy did'st thou not in honest sort come to me And not strive to deceive me but to woe me Why did'st thou not by words thy worth express To gain my love while thou didst love professe Why didst thou seek to
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