little or so long Yet still the morning will attend her song All creatures that beneath bright Cinthia be Have appetite unto society The overflowing waves would have a bound Within the confines of the spacious ground And all their shady currents would be plac'd In hollow of the sollitary vaste But that they loath to let their soft streams sing Where none can heare their gentle murmuring Yet still the boy regardlesse what she said Strugled apace to overswim the maid Which when the Nymph perceiv'd she 'gan to say Struggle thou maiest but never get away So grant just gods that never day may see The separation 'twixt this boy and me The gods did heare her prayer and feele her woe And in one body they began to grow She felt his youthfull bloud in every veine And he felt hers warm his cold breast againe And ever since was womans love so blest That it will draw bloud from the strongest breast Nor man nor maid now could they be esteem'd Neither and either might they well be deem'd When the young boy Hermaphroditus said With the set voice of neither man nor maid Swift Mercury thou Author of my life And thou my mother Vulcans lovely wife Let your poore off-springs latest breath be blest In but obtaining this his last request Grant that whoe're heated by Phoebus beams Shall come to coole him in these silver streams May never more a manly shape retaine But halfe a virgin may returne againe His parents harkned to his last request And with that great power they the fountaine blest And since that time who in that fountaine swims A maiden smoothnes seizeth halfe his limbs THE REMEDIE OF LOVE WHen Cupid read this Title straight he said Wars I perceive against me will be made But spare oh Love to tax thy Poet so Who oft hath born thy Ensign ' gainst thy so I am not he by whom thy Mother bled When she to heaven on Mars his horses fled I oft like other Youths thy flame did prove And if thou aske what I do still I Love Nay I have taught by Art to keep loves course And made that reason which before was force I seek not to betray thee pretty boy Nor what I once have written to destroy If any love and find his Mistris kind Let him go on and saile with his own wind But he that by his Love is discontented To save his life my Verses were invented Why should a Lover kill himselfe or why Should any with his own griefe wounded die Thou art a boy to play becomes thee still Thy reign is soft play then and do not kill Or if thou 'lt needs be vexing then do this Make Lovers meet by stealth and steale a kisse Make them to feare least any over-watch them And tremble when they thinke some come to catch them And with those teares that Lovers shed all night Be thou content but do not kill out-right Love heard and up his silver wings did heave And said Write on I freely give thee leave Come then all ye despis'd that Love endure I that have felt the wounds your Love will cure But come at first for if you make delay Your sicknesse will grow mortall by your stay The Tree which by delay is grown so big In the beginning was a tender twig That which at first was but a span in length Will by delay be rooted past mans strength Resist beginnings med'cines bring no curing Where sicknesse is grown strong by long enduring When first thou seest a Lasse that likes thine eye Bend all thy present powers to descry Whether her eye or carriage first would shew If she be fit for Loves delights or no Some will be easie such an one elect But she that beares too grave and sterne aspect Take heed of her and make her not thy Jewell Either she cannot Love or will be cruell If love assaile thee there betime take heed Those wounds are dangerous that inward bleed He that to day cannot shake off Loves sorrow Will certainly be more unapt to morrow Love hath so eloquent and quick a tongue That he will lead thee all thy life along And on a sudden claspe thee in a yoke Where thou must either draw or striving choak Strive then betimes for at the first one hand May stop a water drill that weares the sand But if delayed it breakes into a floud Mountaines will hardly make the passage good But I am out for now I do begin To keep them off not heale those that are in First therefore Lovers I intend to shew How love came to you then how he may go You that would not know what Loves passions be Never be idle learne that rule of me Ease makes you love as that o'recomes your wils Ease is the food and cause of all your ills Turne ease and idlenesse but out of doore Loves darts are broke his flame can burne no more As reeds and Willows loves the Waters side So Love loves with the idle to abide If then at liberty you faine would be Love yeelds to labour Labour and be free Long sleeps soft beds rich vintage and high feeding Nothing to do and pleasure of exceeding Dulls all our senses makes our vertue stupid And then creeps in that crafty villaine Cupid That boy loves ease alife hates such as stir Therefore thy mind to better things prefer Behold thy Countries enemies in Armes At home love gripes thy heart in his slie charmes Then rise and put on armour cast off sloath Thy labour may at once o'recome them both If this seem hard and too unpleasant then Behold the Law set forth by God and men Sit down and study that that thou maiest know The way to guide thy selfe and others show Or if thou lov'st not to be shut up so Learne to assaile the Deere with trusty bow That through the Woods thy well-mouth'd hounds may ring Whose Eccho better joyes than Love will sing There maiest thou chance to bring thy love to end Diana unto Venus is no friend The Country will afford thee meanes enough Sometimes disdaine not to direct the Plough To follow through the fields the bleating Lambe That mournes to misse the comfort of his Dam. Assist the harvest help to prune the Trees Graft plant and sow no kind of labour leese Set nets for birds with hook'd lines bait for fish Which will imploy thy mind and fill thy dish That being weary with these paines at night Sound sleeps may put the thoughts of Love to flight With such delights or labours as are these Forget to love and learne thy selfe to please But chiefly learne this lesson for my sake Fly from her far some journey undertake I know thou 'lt grieve and that her name once told Will be enough thy journey to with-hold But when thou find'st thy selfe most bent to stay Compell thy feet to run with thee away Nor do thou wish that raine or stormy weather May stay your steps and bring you back together
Nymph that if he would He could deceive her in a shower of gold Or like a swan come to her naked bed And so deceive her of her Maidenhead But yet because he thought that pleasure best Where each consenting joines each loving brest He would put off that all commanding crowne Whose terrour stroke th' aspiring Giants down That glitt'ring crown whose radiant fight did tosse Great Pelion from the top of mighty Osse He would depose from his world-swaying head To taste the amarous pleasure of her bed This added he besides the more to grace her Like a bright star he would in heaven's vault place her By this the proud lascivious Nymph was mov'd Perceiving that by great Iove she was lov'd And hoping as a star she should e're long Be stern or gracious to the sea-man's song For mortals still are subject to the eye And what it sees they strive to get as high She was contented that almighty Iove Should have the first and best fruits of her love For women may be likned to the yeare Whose first fruits still do make the daintiest cheare But yet Astraea first should plight her troath For the performance of Ioves sacred oath Just times decline and all good daies are dead When heavenly oaths had need be warranted This heard great Iupiter and lik'd it well And hastily he seeks Astraeas cell About the massie earth searching her tower But she had long since left this earthly bower And flew to heaven above loathing to see The sinfull actions of humanity Which when Iove did perceive he left the earth And flew up to the place of his own birth The burning heavenly throne where he did spy Astraeas pallace in the glittering sky This stately tower was builded up on high Far from the reach of any mortall eye And from the Pallace side there did distill A little water through a little quill The dew of justice which did seldom fall And when it dropt the drops were very small Glad was great Iove when he beheld her tower Meaning a while to rest him in her bower And therefore sought to enter at her doore But there was such a busie rout before Some serving-men and some promooters be That he could passe no foot without a fee But as he goes he reaches out his hands And paies each one in order as he stands And still as he was paying those before Some slipt again betwixt him and the doore At length with much adoe he past them all And entring straight into a spatious hall Full of darke angles and of hidden waies Crooked Meanders infinite delaies All which delaies and entries he must passe E're he could come where just Astraea was All these being past by his immortall wit Without her doore he saw a Porter fit An aged man that long time there had been Who us'd to search all those that entred in And still to every one he gave this curse None must see justice but with empty purse This man searcht Iove for his own private gaine To have the money which did yet remaine Which was but small for much was spent before On the tumultuous rout that kept the doore When he had done he brought him to the place Where he might see divine Astraea's face There the great king of gods and men in went And saw his daughter Venus there lament And crying loud for justice whom Jove found Kneeling before Astraea on the ground And still she cried and beg'd for a just doome Against black Vulcan that unseemely groome Whom she had chosen for her only love Though she was daughter to great thundring Jove And though the fairest goddesse yet content To marry him though weake and impotent But for all this they alwaies were at strife For evermore he rail'd at her his wife Telling her still thou art no wife of mine Anothers Strumpet Mars his concubine By this Astraeae spy'd almighty Jove And bow'd her finger to the Queene of love To cease her suit which she would heare anon When the great King of all the world was gone Then she descended from her stately throne Which seat was builded all of Jasper stone And o're the seat was painted all above The wanton unseene stealths of amorous Jove There might a man behold the naked pride Of lovely Venus in the Vale of Ide When Pallas and Joves beauteous wife and she Strove for the prise of beauties rarity And there lame Vulcan and his Cyclops strove To make the thunderbolt for mighty Jove From this same stately throne she down descended And said the griefes of Jove should be amended Asking the King of gods what lucklesse cause What great contempt of state what breach of laws For sure she thought some uncouth cause befell That made him visite poore Astraea's cell Troubled his thoughts and if she might decide it Who vext great Jove full dearely should abide it Jove only thank'd her and began to show His cause of comming for each one doth know The longing words of lovers are not many If they desire to be enjoy'd of any Telling Astraea it would now befall That she might make him blest that blesseth all For as he walk'd upon the flowry earth To which his own hands whilome gave a birth To see how streight he held it and how just He rul'd this massie pondrous heap of dust He laid him down by a coole rivers side Whose pleasant water did so gently slide With such soft whispering for the brooke was deep That it had lull'd him in a heavenly sleep When first he laid him down there was none neere him For he did call before but none could heare him But a faire Nymph was bathing when he wak'd Here sight great Iove and after brought forth nak'd He seeing lov'd the Nymph yet here did rest Where just Astraea might make Iove be blest If she would passe her faithfull word so far As that great Iove should make the maid a star Astraea yeelded at which Iove was pleas'd And all his longing hopes and feares were eas'd Iove took his leave and parted from her fight Whose thoughts were full of lovers sweet delight And she ascended to the throne above To heare the griefes of the great Queen of love But she was satisfied and would no more Raile at her husband as she did before But forth she tript apace because she strove With her swift feet to overtake great Iove She skipt so nimbly as she went to look him That at the Pallace doore she overtook him The way was plaine and broad as they went out And now they could see no tumultuous rout Here Venus fearing lest the love of Iove Should make this maid be plac'd in heaven above Because she thought this Nymph so wondrous bright That she would dazell her accustom'd light And fearing now she should not first be seen Of all the glittering stars as she had been But that the wanton Nymph would every night Be first that should salute each mortall sight Began to tell great
my senses to enspire Far livelier than the stoln Promethean fire Then might I live then by the sunny light That should proceed from thy chiefe radiant sight I might survive to ages but that missing At that same word he would have fain been kissing I pine fair Nymph O never let me dye For one poore glance from thy translucent eye Far more transparent than the clearest brooke The Nymph was taken with his golden hook Yet she turn'd back and would have tript away But Bacchus forc'd the lovely maid to stay Asking her why she strugled to be gone Why such a Nymph should wish to live alone Heaven never made her faire that she should vaunt She kept all beauty yet would never grant She should be borne so beatious from her mother But to reflect her beauty on another Then with a sweet kisse cast thy beames on me And I 'le reflect them back againe on thee At Naxos stands my Temple and my shrine Where I do presse the lusty swelling Vine There with green Ivy shall thy head be bound And with the red grape be incircled round There shall Silenus sing unto thy praise His drunken reeling songs and tipling laies Come hither gentle Nymph here blusht the maid And faine she would have gone but yet she staid Bacchus perceiv'd he had o'recome the Lasse And down he throws her in the dewy grasse And kist the helplesse Nymph upon the ground And would have strai'd beyond that lawfull bound This saw bright Phoebus for his glittering eye Sees all that lies below the starry sky And for an old affection that he bore Unto this lovely Nymph long time before For he would oft times in his circle stand And sport himselfe upon her snowy hand He kept her from the sweets of Bacchus bed And ' gainst her will he sav'd her maiden-head Bacchus perceiving this apace did hie Unto the Pallace of swift Mercury But he did find him far below his birth Drinking with theeves and Catchpoles on the earth And they were parting what they stole to day In consultation for to morrows prey To him went youthfull Bacchus and begun To shew his cause of griefe against the Sun How he bereft him of his heavenly blisses His sweet delight his Nectar-flowing kisses And other sweeter sweets that he had won But for the malice of the bright fac'd Sun Intreating Mercury by all the love That had him born amongst the sons of Jove Of which they two were part to stand his friend Against the God that did him so offend The quaint tongu'd issue of great Atlas race Swift Mercurie that with delightfull grace And pleasing accents of his feigned tongue Hath oft reform'd a rude uncivill throng Of Mortals that great messenger of Iove And all the meaner gods that dwell above He whose acute wit was so quick and sharp In the invention of the crooked Harp He that 's so cunning with his jesting slights To steale from heavenly gods or earthly wights Bearing a great hate in his grieved breast Against that great Commander of the West Bright fac'd Apollo for upon a day Young Mercury did steale his beasts away Which the great God perceiving streight did show The piercing arrows and the fearefull bow That kill'd great Pithon and with that did threat him To bring his beasts againe or he would beat him Which Mercury perceiving unespi'd Did closely steale his arrows from his side For this old grudge he was the easier won To help young Bacchus ' gainst the fiery Sun And now the Sun was in the middle way And had o'recome the one halfe of the day Scorching so hot upon the reeking sand That lies upon the meere Aegyptian land That the hot people burnt even from their birth Do creep againe into their Mother earth When Mercury did take his powerfull wand His charming Caduceus in his hand And the thick beaver which he us'd to weare When ought from Jove he to the Sun did beare That did protect him from the piercing light Which did proceed from Phoebus glittering sight Clad in these powerfull ornaments he flies With out-stretcht wings up to the Azur skies Where seeing Phoebus in his orient shrine He did so well revenge the god of wine That whil'st the Sun wanders his Charriot reeles The crafty god had stoln away his wheeles Which when he did perceive he down did slide Laying his glittering Coronet aside From the bright spangled firmament above To seek the Nymph that Bacchus so did love And found her looking in her watry glass To see how cleare her radiant beauty was And for he had but little time to stay Because he meant to finish out his day At the first sight he 'gan to make his moane Telling her how his fiery wheels were gone Promising her if she would but obtaine The wheeles that Mercury had stoln againe That he might end his day she should enjoy The heavenly sight of the most beautious boy That ever was The Nymph was pleas'd with this Hoping to reape some unaccustom'd blisse By the sweet pleasure that she should enjoy In the blest sight of such a melting boy Therefore at his request she did obtaine The burning wheels that he had lost againe Which when he had receiv'd he left the land And brought them thither where his coach did stand And there he set them on for all this space The horses had not stirr'd from out their place Which when he saw he wept and 'gan to say Would Mercury had stoln my wheels away When Phaeton my haire-brain'd issue try'd What a laborious thing it was to guide My burning Chariot then he might have pleas'd me And of a Fathers griefe he might have eas'd me For then the steeds would have obey'd his will Or else at least they would have rested still When he had done he took his whip of steele Whose bitter smart he made his horses feele For he did lash so hard to end the day That he was quickly at the westerne sea And there with Thetis did he rest a space For he did never rest in any place Before that time but ever since his wheels Were stoln away his burning Charriot reeles Towards the declining of the parting day Therefore he lights and mends them in the sea And though the Poets faine that Jove did make A treble night for faire Alcmena's sake That he might sleep securely with his love Yet sure the long night was unknown to Iove But the Suns wheels one day disordered more Were thrice as long a mending as before Now was the Sun inviron'd with the sea Cooling his watry tresses as he lay And in dread Neptunes kingdome while he sleeps Faire Thetis clips him in the watry deeps There Mair-maids and the Tritons of the west Straining their voices to make Titan rest The while the black night with her pithy hand Took just possession of the swarthy land He spent the darksome houres in this delight Giving his power up to the gladsome night For ne'r before he
the grasse When she perceiv'd she could not see him neere her When she had call'd and yet he would not heare her Look how when Autumne comes a little space Paleth the red blush of the summers face Tearing the leaves the summers coveting Three months in weaving by the curious spring Making the grasse his green locks go to wrack Tearing each ornament from off his back So did she spoile the garments she did weare Tearing whole ounces of her golden haire Shee thus deluded of her longed blisse With much adoe at last she uttred this Why wert so bashfull boy Thou hast no part Shewes thee to be of such a female heart His eye is grey so is the mornings eye That blusheth alwaies when the day is nigh Then is grey eyes the cause that cannot be The grey ey'd morn is far more bold than he For with a gentle dew from heavens bright tower It gets the maidenhead of every flower I would to god he were the rosiat morn And I a flower from out the earth new born His face was smooth Narcissus face was so And he was carelesse of a sad Nymphs woe Then that 's the cause and yet that cannot be Youthfull Narcissus was more bold than he Because he dy'd for love though of his shade This boy nor loves himselfe nor yet a maid Besides his glorious eye is wondrous bright So is the fiery and all-seeing light Of Phoebus who at every mornings birth Blusheth for shame upon the sullen earth Then that 's the cause and yet that cannot be The fiery Sun is far more bold than he He nightly kisseth Thetis in the sea All know the storie of Leucothoe His cheek is red so is the fragrant rose Whose ruddy cheek with over-blushing glowes Then that 's the cause and yet that cannot be Each blushing rose is far more bold than he Whose boldnesse may be plainly seen in this The ruddy rose is not asham'd to kisse For alwaies when the day is new begun The spreading rose will kisse the morning sun This said hid in the grasse she did espy him And stumbling with her will she fell down by him And with her wanton talke because he woo'd not Beg'd that which he poore novice understood not And for she could not get a greater blisse She did intreat at least a sisters kisse But still the more she did the boy beseech The more he powted at her wanton speech At last the Nymph began to touch his skin Whiter than Mountain snow hath ever been And did in purenesse that cleare spring surpasse Wherein Acteon saw th' Arcadian lasse Thus did she dally long till at the last In her white Palm she lockt his white hand fast Then in her hands his wrist she 'gan to close When through his pulses straight his warme bloud glows Whose youthfull Musick faining Cupids fire In her warme brest kindled a fresh desire Then did she lift her hand unto his brest A part as white and youthfull as the rest Where as his flowry breath still comes and goes She felt his gentle heart pant through his cloaths At last she took her hand from off that part And said it panted like another heart Why should it be more feeble and lesse bold Why should the bloud about it be more cold Nay sure that yields only thy tongue denies And the true fancy of thy heart belies Then did she lift her hand unto his chin And prais'd the pretty dimpling of his skin But straight his chin she 'gan to overslip When she beheld the rednesse of his lip And said thy lips are soft presse them to mine And thou shalt see they are as soft as thine Then would she faine have gone unto his eye But still his ruddy lip standing so nigh Drew her hand back therefore his eye she mist ' Ginning to claspe his neck and would have kist But then the boy did struggle to be gone Vowing to leave her in that place alone But the bright Salmacis began to feare And said faire stranger I will leave thee here And these pleasant places all alone So turning back she fained to be gone But from his sight she had no power to passe Therefore she turn'd and hid her in the grasse When to the ground bending her snow-white knee The glad earth gave new coats to every tree He then supposing he was all alone Like a young boy that is espy'd of none Runs here and there then on the banks doth look Then on the Christall current of the brook Then with his feet he toucht the silver streames Whose drowzie waves made musick in their dreames And for he was not wholly in did weep Talking aloud and babling in their sleep Whose pleasant coolenesse when the boy did feele He thrust his foot down lower to the heele O'recome with whose sweet noise he did begin To strip his soft cloaths from his tender skin When streight the scorching Sun wept teares of brine Because he durst not touch him with his shine For feare of spoiling that same Ivory skin Whose whitenesse he so much delighted in And then the Moon mother of mortall ease Would faine have come from the Antipodes To have beheld him naked as he stood Ready to leap into the silver floud But might not for the laws of heaven deny To shew mens secrets to a womans eye And therefore was her sad and gloomy light Confin'd unto the secret keeping night When beautious Salmacis a while had gaz'd Upon his naked corps she stood amaz'd And both her sparkling eyes burnt in her face Like the bright Sun reflected in a glasse Scarce can she stay from running to the Boy Scarce can she now defer her hoped joy So fast her youthfull bloud plaies in her veines That almost mad she scarce her selfe containes When young Hermaphroditus as he stands Clapping his white side with his hollow hands Leapt lively from the land whereon he stood Into the maine part of the Christall floud Like Ivory then his snowy body was Or a white Lilly in a Christall glasse Then rose the Water-Nymph from where she lay As having won the glory of the day And her light garments cast from off her skin He 's mine she cry'd and so leapt sprightly in The flatt'ring Ivy who did ever see Inclasp'd the huge trunke of an aged tree Let him behold the young boy as he stands Inclaspt in wanton Salmacis pure hands Betwixt those Ivory armes she lockt him fast Striving to get away till at the last Fondling she said why striv'st thou to be gone Why shouldst thou so desire to be alone Thy cheeke is never faire when none is by For what is red and white but to the eye And for that cause the heavens are dark at night Because all creatures close their weary sight For there 's no mortall can so early rise But still the morning waits upon his eyes The early rising and soon singing Lark Can never chant her sweet notes in the dark For sleep she ne'r so
Count not the miles you passe nor doubt the way Lest those respects should turne you back to stay Tell not the clock nor look not once behind But flie like Lightning or the Northerne wind For where we are too much o'rematcht in might There is no way for safeguard but by flight But some will count my Lines too hard and bitter I must confesse them hard but yet 't is better To fast a while that health may be provoked Than feed at plenteous tables and be choaked To cure the wretched body I am sure Both Fire and Steele thou gladly wilt endure Wilt thou not then take paines by any Art To cure thy Mind which is thy better part The hardnesse is at first and that once past Pleasant and easie waies will come at last I do not bid thee strive with Witches Charmes Or such unholy acts to cease thy harms Ceres her selfe who all these things did know Had never power to cure her own Love so No take this Medicine which of all is sure Labour and Absence is the only Cure But if the Fates compell thee in such fashion That thou must needs live neere her habitation And canst not flie her fight learne here of me That thou would'st faine and canst not yet be free Set all thy Mistris faults before thine eyes And all thy own disgraces well advise Say to thy selfe that she is covetous Hath ta'ne my gifts and us'd me thus and thus Thus hath she sworne to me and thus deceived Thus have I hope and thus have been bereaved With love she feeds my Rivall while I starve And poures on him kisses which I deserve She follows him with smiles and gives to me Sad looks no Lovers but a strangers fee. All those embraces I so oft desired To him she offers daily unrequired Whose whole desert and halfe mine weigh'd together Would make mine Lead and his seem Corke and Feather Then let her go and since she proves so hard Regard thy selfe and give her no regard Thus must thou schoole thy selfe and I could wish Thee to thy selfe most eloquent in this But put on griefe enough and do not feare Griefe will enforce thy eloquence t' appeare Thus I my selfe the love did once expell Of one whose Coynesse vex'd my soule like hell I must confesse she touch'd me to the quick And I that am Physitian then was sick But this I found to profit I did still Ruinate what I thought in her was ill And for to cure my selfe I found a way Some honest slanders on her for to lay Quoth I how lamely doth my Mistris go Although I must confesse it was not so I said her armes were crooked fingers bent Her shoulders bow'd her legs consum'd and spent Her colour sad her neck as darke as night When Venus might in all have tane delight But yet because I would no more come nigh her My selfe unto my selfe did thus belye her Do thou the like and though she faire appeare Thinke vice to vertue often comes too neere And in that errour though it be an errour Preserve thy selfe from further terrour If she be round and plumpe say shee 's too fat If brown say black and think who cares for that If she be slender sweare she is too leane That such a Wench will weare a man out cleane If she be red say shee 's too full of bloud If pale her body nor her mind is good If wanton say she seeks thee to devoure If grave neglect her say she looks too sowre Nay if she have a fault and thou dost know it Praise it that in thy presence she may shew it As if her voice be bad crack'd in the ring Never give over till thou make her sing If she have any blemish in her foot Commend her dancing still and put her to 't If she be rude in speech incite her talke If haulting lame provoke her much to walke Or if on Instruments she have small skill Reach down a Viall urge her to that still Take any way to ease thy own distresse And think those faults be which are nothing lesse Then meditate besides what thing it is That makes thee still in Love to go amisse Advise thee well for as the World now goes Men are not caught with substance but with shews Women are in their bodies turn'd to French That face and body's least part of a Wench I know a Woman hath in Love been troubled For that which Taylors make a fine neat Doublet And men are even as mad in their desiring That oftentimes love Women for their tyring He that doth so let him take this advise Let him rise early and not being nice Up to his Mistris chamber let him hie E're she arise and there he shall espie Such a confusion of disordered things In Bodies Jewels Tyres Wyres Lawnes and Rings That sure it cannot choose but much abhor him To see her lye in peeces thus before him And find those things shut in a painted box For which he loves her and endures her mocks Once I my selfe had a great mind to see What kind of things Women undressed be And found my Sweet-heart just when I came at her Screwing in teeth and dipping rags in water She miss'd her Perriwig and durst not stay But put it on in haste the backward way That had I not on th' sudden chang'd my mind I had mistooke and kiss'd my Love behind So if thou wish her faults should rid thy cares Watch out thy time and take her unawares Or rather put the better way in proofe Come thou not neere but keep thy selfe aloofe If all this serve not use one medicine more Seek out another Love and her adore But chuse out one in whom thou well maiest see A heart inclin'd to love and cherish thee For as a River parted slower goes So Love thus parted still more evenly flowes One Anchor will not serve a Vessell tall Nor is one hooke enough to fish withall He that can solace him and sport with two May in the end triumph as others do Thou that to one hast shew'd thy selfe too kind Maiest in a second much more comfort find If one Love entertaine thee with despight The other will embrace thee with delight When by the former thou art made accurst The second will contend t' excell the first And strive with love to drive her from thy breast That first to second yields women know best Or if to yeeld to either thou art loath This may perhaps acquit them of them both For what one Love makes odde two shall make even Thus blows with blows and fire by fire 's out driven Perchance this course will turne thy first Loves heart And when thine is at ease cause hers to smart If thy Loves Rivall stick so neere thy side Thinke women can Copartners worse abide For though thy Mistris never meane to love thee Yet from the others love she 'l strive to move thee But let her strive she oft hath vex'd thy heart
he might contract an Union They two were one yet like an Eagle spread I' th' Body joyn'd but parted in the head For you my brat that pose the Porph'ry Chaire Pope John or Joane or whatsoe're you are You are a Nephew grieve not at your state For all the world is illegitimate Man cannot get a man unlesse the Sun Club to the Act of Generation The Sun and Man get Man thus Tom and I Are the joynt Fathers of thy Poetry For since blest shade this Verse is Male but mine O' th weaker sex a fancy femenine Wee 'l part the Child and yet commit no slaughter So shall it be thy son and yet my daughter To the Mutable Faire HEre Coelia for thy sake I part With all that grew so neere my heart The passion that I had for thee The Faith the Love the Constancy And that I may successefull prove Transforme my selfe to what you love Foole that I was so much to prize Those simple vertues you despise Foole that which such dull arrows strove Or hop'd to reach a flying Dove For you that are in motion still Decline our force and mock our skill Who like Don Quixote do advance Against a Windmill our vaine Lance. Now will I wander through the aire Mount make a stoope at every faire And with a fancy unconfin'd As lawlesse as the Sea or Wind Pursue you wheresoe're you flie And with your various thoughts comply The formall stars do travell so As we their Names and Courses know And he that on their Changes looks Would thinke them govern'd by our books But never were the Clouds reduc'd To any Art the motion us'd By those free vapours are so light So frequent that the conquer'd sight Despaires to find the rules that guide Those gilded shadows as they slide And therefore of the spatious aire Jove's Royall Consort had the care And by that power did once escape Declining bold Ixions rape She with her own resemblance grac'd A shining cloud which he imbrac'd Such was that Image so it smil'd With seeming kindness which beguil'd Your Thirsis lately when he thought He had his fleeting Coelia caught 'T was shap'd like her but for the faire He fill'd his Armes with yeelding aire A Fate for which he grieves the lesse Because the gods had like successe For in their Story one we see Pursues a Nymph and takes a Tree A second with a Lovers haste Soone overtakes what he had chaste But she that did a Virgin seeme Possess'd appears a wandring streame For his supposed Love a third Laies greedy hold upon a Bird And stands amaz'd to see his Deare A wild Inhabitant of the Aire To such old tales such Nymphs as you Give credit and still make them new The Amorous now like wonders find In the swift changes of your mind But Coelia if you apprehend The Muse of your incensed friend Nor would that he record your blame And make it live repeat the same Againe deceive him and againe And then he sweares he 'l not complaine For still to be deluded so Is all the pleasures Lovers know Who like good Falkners take delight Not in the Quarrey but the flight Of Loving at first sight NOt caring to observe the wind Or the new sea explore Snatcht from thy selfe how far behind Already I behold the shore May not a thousand dangers sleep In the smooth bosome of this deep No 't is so rocklesse and so cleare That the rich Bottom does appeare Pav'd all with precious things not torne From shipwrackt vessels but there borne Sweetnesse truth and every grace Which time and use are wont to teach The eye may in a moment reach And read distinctly in her face Some other Nymph with colour faint And Pencill slow may Cupid paint And a weake heart in time destroy She has a stampe and prints the Boy Can with a single looke inflame The coldest Breast the Rudest tame Tho. Batt The Antiplatonick FOr shame thou everlasting wooer Still saying grace and never falling to her Love that 's in contemplation plac'd Is Venus drawn but to the waste Unlesse your flame confesse its gender And your Parley cause surrender Y' are Salamanders of a cold desire That live untoucht amid the hottest fire What though she be a Dame of stone The Widow of Pigmalion As hard and unrelenting she As the new crusted Niobe Or what doth more of statue carry A Nun of the Platonick Quarry Love melts the Rigour which the Rocks have bred A Flint will break upon a feather bed For shame you pretty female Elves Cease for to candy up your selves No more you Sectaries of the Game No more of your calcining flame Women commence by Cupids Dart As a King hunting dubs a Hart Loves Votaries inthrale each others soule Till both of them live but upon Parole Vertue 's no more in Women kind But the green-sicknesse of the mind Phylosophy their new delight A kind of Charcoale appetite There 's no Sophistry prevailes Where all-convincing Love assailes But the disputing petticoat will warp As skilfull Gamesters are to seek at sharp The Souldier that man of Iron Whom ribs of Horror all inviron That 's strung with wire instead of veines In whose embraces you 're in Chaines Let a Magnetick girle appeare Straight he turnes Cupids Cuiraseer Love stormes his lips and takes the Fortresse in For all the bristled Turn-pikes of his Chin. Since Loves Artillery then checks The breast-works of the firmest Sex Come let 's in affections riot Th' are sickly pleasures keep a Diet. Give me a Lover bold and free Not Eunucht with formality Like an Embassadour that beds a Queen With the nice Caution of a Sword between Song SAy lovely dreame where couldst thou find Shales to counterfeit that face Colours of this glorious kind Come not from any Mortall place In Heaven it selfe thou sure wert drest With that Angel-like disguise Thus deluded am I blest And see my joy with closed eyes But ah this Image is too kind To be other than a dreame Cruell Sacharissa's mind Never put on that sweet extreame Faire Dreame if thou intend'st me grace Change this heavenly forme of thine Paint despis'd love in thy face And make it to appeare like mine Pale Wan and Meager let it looke With a pitty-moving shape Such as wander by the brooke Of Lethe or from Graves escape Then to that Matchlesse Nymph appeare In whose shape thou shinest so Softly in her sleeping eare With humble words expresse my woe Perhaps from greatnesse state and pride Thus surprised she may fall Sleep does disproportion hide And death resembling equals all Song II. BEhold the brand of Beauty tost See how the motion does dilate the flame Delighted Love his spoiles does boast And triumph in this game Fire to no place confin'd Is both our wonder and our feare Moving the Mind Like lightning hurled through the aire High heaven the glory doth increase Of all her shining Lamps this Artfull way The Sun in figures such as these
kindling holy fires Circled round about with spies Never dreaming loose desires Doting at the Altar dies Ilion in a short Tower higher He can once more build and once more fire The third Song HOnour that is ever living Honour that is ever giving Honour that sees all and knows Both the ebbs of man and flowes Honour that rewards the best Sends thee thy rich labours rest Thou hast studied still to please her Therefore now she cals thee Caesar Chorus haile haile Caesar haile and stand And thy name out-live the Land Noble Fathers to his brows Bind this wreath with thousand vows The fourth Song GOd Lizus ever young Ever renown'd ever sung Stain'd with blood of lusty Grapes In a thousand lusty shapes Dance upon the Mazers brim In the Crimson Liquor swim From thy plentious hand divine Let a River run with Wine God of youth let this day here Enter neither care nor feare The Prologue to the Play called Loves Pilgrimage TO this place Gentlemen full many a day We have bid ye welcome and to many a Play And those whose angry soules were not displeas'd With law or lending money we have pleas'd And make no doubt to do againe this night No mighty matter nor no light We must intreat you looke for A good tale Told in two houres we will not faile If we be perfect to rehearse ye New I am sure it is and hansome but how true Let them dispute that writ it Ten to one We please the women and I would know that man Follows not their example If ye meane To know the Play well travell with the Scene For it lies upon the road if we chance tire As ye are good men leave us not i' th' mire Another bait may mend us If you grow A little gald or wearie cry but hoa And wee 'l stay for ye when our journey ends Every man's Pot I hope and all part friends The Honest Man's Fortune YOu that can look through heaven and tell the Stars Observe their kind Conjunctions and their wars Find out new lights and give them where you please To these men honours pleasures to those ease You that are Gods surveyers and can show How far and when and why the Wind doth blow Know all the charges of the dreadfull Thunder And when it will shoot over or fall under Tell me by all your Art I conjure ye Yes and by truth what shall become of me Find out my star if each one as you say Have his peculiar Angell and his way Observe my Fate next fall into your dreames Sweep cleane your houses and new line your sceames Then say your worst or have I none at all Or is it burnt out lately or did fall Or am I poore not able no full flame My Star like me unworthy of a name Is it your Art can only worke on those That deale with dangers dignities and cloaths With love or new opinions you all lye A Fish-wife hath a Fate and so have I But far above your finding he that gives Out of his providence to all that lives And no man knows his treasure no not you He that made Egypt blind from whence you grew Scabby and Lousie that the world might see Your Calculations are as blind as ye He that made all the stars you daily read And from thence filtch a knowledge how to feed Hath hid this from you your conjectures all Are drunken things not how but when they fall Man is his own star and the soule that can Render an honest and a perfect man Command all light all influence all fate Nothing to him fals early or too late Our Acts our Angels are or good or ill Our fatall shadows that walke by us still And when the stars are labouring we believe It is not that they governe but they grieve For stubborne ignorance all things that are Made for our generall uses are at war Even we among our selves and from the strife Your first unlike opinions got a life O man thou Image of thy Makers good What canst thou feare when breath'd into thy blood His Spirit is that built thee what dull sence Makes thee suspect in need that providence Who made the Morning and who plac'd the light Guide to thy labours who call'd up the night And bid her fall upon thee like sweet show'rs In hollow murmurs to lock up thy powers Who gave thee knowledge who so trusted thee To let thee grow so neare himselfe the tree Must he then be distrusted shall his frame Discourse with him why thus and thus I am He made the Angels thine thy fellows all Nay even thy servants when Devotions call O canst thou be so stupid then so dim To seeke a saving influence and lose him Can stars protect thee or can poverty Which is the light to heaven put out his eye He is my star in him all truth I find All influence all fate and when my mind Is furnished with his fulnesse my poore story Should out-live all their Age and all their glory The hand or Danger cannot fall amisse When I know what and in whose power it is Nor want the cause of man shall make me groane A holy Hermit is a mind alone Doth not experience teach us all we can To worke our selves into a glorious man Love 's but an Exhalation to best eyes The matter spent and then the fooles fire dies Were I in love and could that bright star bring Increase to wealth honour and ev'ry thing Were she as perfect good as we can aime The first was so and yet she lost the game My Mistris then be knowledge and faire truth So I enjoy all beauty and all youth And though to Time her lights and Laws she lends She knows no Age that to corruption bends Friends promises may lead me to believe But he that is his own friend knows to live Affliction when I know it is but this A deep allay vvhereby man tougher is To beare the hammer and the deeper still We still arise more Image of his vvill Sicknesse an hum'rous cloud ' tvvixt us and light And death at longest but another night Man is his ovvn star and that soule that can Be honest is the only perfect man Mr Francis Beaumont's Letter to Ben Iohnson written before he and Mr Fletcher came to London with two of the precedent Comedies then not finished which deferred their merry meetings at the Mermaid THe Sun which doth the greatest comfort bring To absent friends because the selfe-same thing They know they see however absent is Here our best hay-maker forgive me this It is our Countries stile in this warme shine I lie and dreame of your full Mermaid wine O we have water mixt with Claret Lees Drinke apt to bring in drier heresies Than here good only for the Sonnets straine With Fustian Metaphors to stuffe the braine So mixt that given to the thirstiest one 'T will not prove Almes unlesse he have the stone Thinke with one draught mans