darling beauties bed Him I thought the fairest creature Him the quintessence of Nature But yet alas I was deceiu'd Loue of reason is bereau'd For since then I saw a Lasse Lasle that did in beauty passe Passe faire Ganymede as farre As Phoebus doth the smallest starre Loue commaunded me to loue Fancy bade me not remoue My affection from the swaine Whom I neuer could obtaine For who can obtaine that fauour Which he cannot graunt the crauer Loue at last though loath preuailde Loue that so my heart assailde Wounding me with her faire eies Ah how Loue can subtelize And deuize a thousand shifts How to worke men to his drifts Her it is for whom I mourne Her for whom my life I scorne Her for whom I weepe all day Her for whom I sigh and say Either She or els no creature Shall enioy my loue whose ceature Though I neuer can obtaine Yet shall my true loue remaine Till my body turn'd to clay My poore soule must passe away To the heauens where I hope Hit shall finde a resting scope Then since I loued thee alone Remember me when I am gone Scarce had he these last words spoken But me thought his heart was broken With great griefe that did abound Cares and griefe the heart confound In whose heart thus riu'd in three ELIZA written I might see In Caracters of crimson blood VVhose meaning well I vnderstood VVhich for my heart might not behold I hyed me home my sheepe to folde FINIS CASSANDRA VPon a gorgious gold embossed bed With Tissue curtaines drawne against the sunne Which gazers eies into amazement led So curiously the workmanship was done Lay faire Cassandra in her snowie smocke Whose lips the Rubies and the pearles did locke And from her Iuory front hung dangling downe A bush of long and louely curled haire VVhose head impalled with a precious Crowne Of orient Pearle made her to seeme more faire And yet more faire she hardly could be thought Then Loue and Nature in her face had wrought By this young Phoetus rising from the East Had tane a view of this rare Paragon Wherewith he soone his radiant beames addrest And with great ioy her sleeping gaz'd vpon Til at the iast through her bright caze meÌ„ts cleare He stole a kisse and softly call'd her Deare Yet not so softly but thetewith awak't Shee gins to open her faire christ all couers Wherewith the wounded God for terror quakt Viewing those darts that kill disdained louers And blushing red to see himselfe so shamed He scorns his Coach his owne beauty blamed Now with a trice he leaues the azures skies As whilome Ioue did at Europaes rape And rauisht with her loue-aluring eies He turns himselfe into a humane shape And that his wish the sooner might ensue He sutes himselfe like one of Venus crew Vpon his head he wore a Hunters hat Of crimson veluet spangd with stars of gold Which grac'd his louely face and ouer that A siluer hatband ritchly to behold On his left shoulder hung a loose Tyara As whilome vs'd faire Penthesilea Faire Penthesilea th' Amazonian Queene When she to Troy came with her warlike band Of braue Viragoes glorious to be seene Whose manlike force no power might withstand So look't Apollo in his louely weedes As he vnto the I roian Damzell speedes Not faire Adonis in his chiefest pride Did seeme more faire then young Apollo seemed When he through th aire inuisibly did glide T'obraine his Loue which he Angelike deemed Whom finding in her chamber all alone He thus begins t'expresse his pitcous mone O fairest faire aboue all faires quoth hee If euer Loue obtained Ladies fauour Then shew thy selfe compassionate to me Whose heart surpriz'd with thy diuine behauiour Yeelds my selfe captiue to thy conqu'ring eies Oh then shew mercy doe not tyrannize Scarce had Apollo vtter'd these last words Rayning downe pearle from his immortall cies VVhen the for answere naught but feare affords Filling the place with lamentable cries But Phoe bus fearing much these raging fits VVith sugred kisses sweetely charm'd her lips And tell's her softly in her softer eare That he a God is and no mortall creature Where with abandoning all needlesse feare A common frailtie of weake womans nature She boldly askes him of his deitie Gracing her question with her wanton eie Which charge to him no sooner was assignde But taking faire Cassandra by the hand The â—â—e be wraier of his secrete minde He first begins to let her vnderstand That he from Demogorgon was deseended Father ofth ' Earth of Gods men commended The tenor of which tale he now recites Closing each period with a rauisht kisle VVhich kindnes she vnwillingly requites Conioyning oft her Corrall lips to his Not that she lou'd the loue of any one But that she meant to cozen him anone Hee briefly t'her relates his pedegree The sonne of loue sole guider of the sunne He that slue Pychon so victoriouslie He that the name of wisdomes God hath wonne The God of Musique and of Poetry Of Phisicke Learning and Chirurgery All which he eloquently reckons vp That she might know how great a God he was And beeing charm'd with Cupids golden cup He partiallie vnto her praise doth passe Calling her tipe of honour Queene of beauty To whom all eies owe tributary duety I loued once quoth hee aie me I lou'd As faire a shape as euer nature framed Had she not been so hard t'haue beene remou'd By birth a sea Nymph cruell Daphne named Whom for shee would not to my will agree The Gods transform'd into a Laurell tree Ah therefore be not with that word he kist her Be not quot he so proud as Daphne was Ne care thou for the anger of my sister She cannot nay she shall not hurt my Cass For if she doe I vow by dreadfull night Neuer againe to lend her of my light This said he sweetly doth imbrace his loue Yoaking his armes about her Iuory necke And call's her wanton Venus milk-white Doue VVhose ruddie lips the damaske roses decke And euer as his tongue compiles her praise Loue daintie Dimples in her cheekes doth raise And meaning now to worke her stratagem Vpon the silly God that thinks none ill She hugs him in her armes and kisses him Th' easlyer to intice him to her will And being not able to maintaine the feeld Thus she begins or rather seemes to yeeld VVoon with thy words and rauisht with thy beauty Loe here Cassandra yeelds her selfe to thee Requiring nothing for thy vowed duety But only firmnesle Loue and secrecy Which for that now euen now I mean to try thee A boone I craue which thou canst not deny me Scarce were these honywords breath'd from her lips But he supposing that she ment good-faith Her filed tongues temptations interceps And like a Nonice thus to her he saith Aske what thou wilt and I will giue it thee Health wealth long life wit art or dignitie Here-with she blushing red for shame did adde A crimson
whom later ages haue inioy'd But ah what hath not cruell death destroide Death that enuies this worlds felicitie They were perhaps lesse faire then Poets write But he is fairer then I can indite SONNET XIII Speake Eccho tell how may I call my loue Loue. But how his Lamps that are so christaline Eyne Oh happy starts that make your heauens diuine And happy Iems that admiration moue How tearm'st his goldē tresses wau'd with aire Haire Oh louely haire of your more-louely Maister Image of loue faire shape of Alablaster Why do'st thou driue thy Louer to dispaire How do'st thou cal the bed wher beuty grows Rose Faire virgine-Rose whose mayden blossoms couer The milke-white Lilly thy imbracing Louer Whose kisses makes thee oft thy red to lose And blushing oft for shame whē he hath kist thee He vades away thou raing'st where it list thee SONNET XIIII Here hold this gloue this milk-white cheueril gloue Not quaintly ouer-wrought with curious knots Nor deckt with golden spangs nor siluer spots Yet wholsome for thy hand as thou shalt proue Ah no sweet boy place this gloue neere thy heart Weare it and lodge it still within thy brest So shalt thou make me most vnhappy blest So shalt thou rid my paine and case my smart How can that be perhaps thou wilt reply A gloue is for the hand not for the heart Nor can it well be prou'd by common art Nor reasons rule To this thus answere I If thou from gloue do'st take away the g Then gloue is loue and so I send it thee SONNET XV. A fairest Ganymede disdaine me not Though silly Sheepeheard I presume to loue thee Though my harsh songs Sonnets cannot moue thee Yet to thy beauty is my loue no blot Apollo Ioue and many Gods beside S'daind not the name of cūtry shepheards swains Nor want we pleasure though we take some pains We liue contentedly a thing call'd pride Which so corrupts the Court and euery place Each place I meane where learning is neglected And yet of late euen learnings selfe's infected I know not what it meanes in any case Wee onely when Molorchus gins to peepe Learne for to folde and to vnfold our sheepe SONNET XVI Long haue I long'd to see my Loue againe Still haue I wisht but neuer could obtaine it Rather than all the world if I might gaine it Would I desire my loues sweet precious gaine Yet in my soule I see him euerie day See him and see his still sterne countenaunce But ah what is of long continuance Where Maiestie and Beautie beares the sway Sometimes when I imagine that I see him As loue is full of foolish fantasies VVeening to kisse his lips as my loues fee s I feele but Aire nothing but Aire to bee him Thus with Ixion kisse I cloudes in vaine Thus with Ixion feele I endles paine SONNET XVII Cherry-lipt Adonis in his snowie shape Might not compare with his pure Iuorie white On whose faire front a Poets pen may write Whose rosiate red excels the crimson grape His loue-enticing delicate soft limbs Are rarely fram'd t'intrap poore gazing eies His cheekes the Lillie and Carnation dies With louely tincture which Apolloes dims His lips ripe strawberries in Nectar wet His mouth a Hiue his tongue a hony-combe Where Muses like Bees make their mansion His teeth pure Pearle in blushing Correll set Oh how can such a body sinne-procuring Be slow to loue and quicke to hate enduring SONNET XVIII Not Megabaetes nor Cleonymus Of whom great Plutarck makes such mention Praysing their faire with rare inuention As Ganymede were halfe so beauteous They onely pleas'd the eies of two great Kings But all the worlde at my loue stands amazed Nor one that on his Angels face hath gazed But rauisht with delight him Presents brings Some weaning Lambs and some a suckling Kyd Some Nuts and fil-beards others Peares Plums Another with a milk-white Heyfar comes As lately Aegons man Damaetas did But neither he nor all the Nymphs beside Can win my Ganymede with them t'abide SONNET XIX Ah no nor I my selfe though my pure loue Sweete Ganymede to thee hath still beene pure And euen till my last gaspe shall aie endure Could euer thy obdurate beuty moue Then cease oh Goddesse sonne for sure thou art A Goddesse sonne that canst resist desire Cease thy hard heart and entertaine loues fire Within thy sacred breast by Natures art And as I loue thee more then any Creature Loue thee because thy beautie is diuine Loue thee because my selfe my soule is thine Wholie deuoted to thy louelie feature Euen so of all the vowels I and V Are dearest vnto mee as doth ensue SONNET XX. But now my Muse toyld with continuall care Begins to faint and slacke her former pace Expecting fauour from that heauenly grace That maie in time her feeble strength repaire Till when sweete youth th' essence of my soule Thou that dost sit and sing at my hearts griefe Thou that dost send thy shepheard no reliefe Beholde these lines the sonnes of Peares and Dole Ah had great Colin chiefe of sheepheards all Or gentle Rowland my professed friend Had they thy beautie or my pennance pend Greater had beene thy fame and lesse my fall But since that euerie one cannot be wittie Pardon l craue of them and of thee pitty FINIS AN ODE NIghts were short and daies were long Blossoms on the Hauthorn's hung Philomaele Night-Musicues King Tolde the comming of the spring Whose sweete siluer-sounding voice Made the little birds reioice Skipping light from spray to spray Till Aurora shew'd the day Scarce might one see when I might see For such chaunces sudden bee By a well of Marble-stone A Shepheard lying all alone Weepe he did and his weeping Made the fading flowers spring Daphnis was his name I weene Youngest Swaine of Summers Queene VVhen Aurora saw t'was he Weepe she did for companie Weepe she did for her sweete sonne That when antique Troy was wonne Suffer'd death by lucklesse fate Whom she now laments too late And each morning by Cocks crew Showers downe her siluer dew Whose teares falling from their spring Giue moysture to each liuing thing That on earth increase and grow Through power of their friendlie foe Whose effect when Flora felt Teares that did her bosome melt For who can resist teares often But Shee whom no teares can soften Peering straite aboue the banks Shew'd herselfe to giue her thanks Wondring thus at Natures worke Wherein many maruailes lurke Me thought I heard a dolefull noise Consorted with a mournfull voice Drawing nie to heare more plaine Heare I did vnto my paine For who is not pain'd to heare Him in griefe whom heart holdes deare Silly swaine with griefe ore-gone Thus to make his piteous mone Loue I did alas the while Loue I did but did beguile My deare loue with louing so VVhom as then I did not know Loue I did the fairest boy That these fields did ere enioy Loue I did faire Ganymed Venus
Gods and Goddesses that in like case In this same order sat with il-beseeming grace First in a royall Chaire of massie gold Bard all about with plates of burning steele Sat Iupiter most glorious to behold And in his hand was placed Fortunes wheele The which he often turn'd and oft did reele And next to him in griefe and gealouzie If fight may censure what the heart doth feele In sad lament was placed Mercurie That dying seem'd to weep weeping seem'd to die On th' other side aboue the other twaine Delighting as it seem'd to sit alone Sat Mulciber in pride and high disdaine Mounted on high vpon a stately throne And euen with that I heard a deadly grone Muzing at this such an vncouth sight mone Not knowing what shoulde make that piteous I saw three furies all in Armour dight With euery one a Lampe and euery one a light I deemed so nor was I much deceau'd For poured forth in sensuall Delight There might I see of Sences quite bereau'd King Priams Sonne that Alexander hight Wrapt in the Mantle of eternall Night And vnder him awaiting for his fall Sate Shame here Death there sat fel Despight That with their Horrour did his heart appall Thus was his Blisse to Bale his Hony turn'd to gall In which delight feeding mine hungry eye Of two great Goddesses a sight I had And after them in wondrous Iollity As one that inly ioy'd so was she glad The Queene of Loue full royallie yclad In glistring Golde and peerelesse precious stone There might I spie and her Companion bad Proud Paris Nephew to Laomedon That afterward did cause the Death of many a one By this the formost melting all in teares And rayning downe resolued Pearls in showers Gan to approach the place of heauenly Pheares And with her weeping watring all their Bowers Throwing sweet Odors on those fading flowers At length she them bespake thus mournfullie High Ioue quoth she and yee Coelestiall powers That here in Iudgement sit twixt her and mee Now listen for a while and iudge with equitie Sporting our selues to day as wee were woont I meane I Pallas and the Queene of Loue Intending with Diana for to hunt On Ida Mountaine top our skill to proue A golden Ball was trindled from aboue And on the Rinde was writ this Poesie PVLCHERIMae for which a while we stroue Each saying shee was fairest of the three VVhen loe a shepheards Swaine not far away we see I spi'd him first and spying thus bespake Shall yonder Swaine vnfolde the mysterie Agree'd quoth Venus and by Stygian Lake To whom he giues the ball so shall it bee Nor from his censure will I flie quoth shee Poynting to Pallas though I loose the gole Thus euery one yplac'd in her degree The Shepheard comes whose partial eies gan role And on our beuties look't and of our beuties stole I promis'd wealth Minerua promis'd wit Shee promis'd wit to him that was vnwise But he fond foole had soone refused it And minding to bestow that glorious Prize On Venus that with pleasure might suffize His greedie minde in loose laciuiousnes Vpon a sudden wanting good aduice Holde here quoth he this golden Ball possesse Which Paris giues to thee for meede of worthines Thus haue I shew'd the summe of all my sute And as a Plaintiffe heere appeale to thee And to the rest Whose folly I impute To filthie lust and partialitie That made him iudge amisse and so doe we Quoth Pallas Venus nor will I gaine-say Although it's mine by right yet willinglie I heere disclaime my title and obey When silence being made Ioue thus began to saie Thou Venus art my darling thou my deare Minerua shee my sister and my wife So that of all a due respect I beare Assign'd as one to end this doubtfull strife life Touching your forme your fame your loue your Beauty is vaine much like a gloomy light And wanting wit is counted but a trife Especially when Honour's put to flight Thus of a louely soone becomes a loathly sight VVit without wealth is bad yet counted good wealth wanting wisdom's worse yet deem'd as wel From whence for ay doth flow as from a flood A pleasant Poyson and a heauenly Hell where mortall men doe couer still to dwell Yet one there is to Vertue so inclin'd That as for Maiesty she beares the Bell So in the truth who tries her princelie minde Both Wisdom Beauty Wealth all in her shal find In Westerne world amids the Ocean maine In coumpleat Vertue shining like the Sunne In great Renowne a maiden Queene doth raigne Whose roy all Race in Ruine first begun Till Heauens bright Lamps dissolue shall nere bee done In whose faire eies Loue linckt with vertues been In euerlasting Peace and Vnion Which sweet Consort in her full well beseeme Of Bounty and of Beauty fairest Fayrie Queene And to conclude the gifts in her yfound Are all so noble royall and so rare That more and more in her they doe abound In her most peerelesse Prince without compare Endowing still her minde with vertuous care That through the world so wide the flying fame And Name that Enuies selfe cannot impaire Is blown of this faire Queen this gorgeous dame Fame borowing al mēs mouths to royalize the same And with this sentence Iupiter did end This is the Pricke quoth he this is the praies To whom this as a Present I will send That shameth Cynthia in her siluer Raies If so you three this deed doe not displease Then one and all and euery one of them To her that is the honour of her daies A second Iudith in IERVSALEM To her we send this Pearle this Iewell and this Iem Then call'd he vp the winged Mercury The mighty Messenger of Gods enrold And bad him hither hastily to hie Whō tended by her Nymphes he should behold Like Pearles ycouched all in shining gold And euen with that frō pleasant slumbring sleepe Desiring much these wonders to vnfold I wak'ning when Aurora gan to peepe Depriu'd so soone of my sweet Dreame gan almost weepe The Conclusion THus sacred Virgin Muse of chastitie This difference is betwixt the Moone and thee Shee shines by Night but thou by Day do'st shine Shee Monthly changeth thou do st nere decline And as the Sunne to her doth lend his light So hee by thee is onely made so bright Yet neither Sun nor Moone thou canst be named Because thy light hath both their beauties shamed Then since an heauenly Name doth thee befall Thou VIRGO art if any Signe at all FINIS SONNET I. Sporting at fancie setting light by loue There came a theefe and stole away my heart And therefore robd me of my chiefest part Yet cannot Reason him a felon proue For why his beauty my hearts thiefe affirmeth Piercing no skin the bodies fensiue wall And hauing leaue and free consent withall Himselfe not guilty whom loue guilty tearmeth Conscienee the ludge twelue Reasons are the Iurie They sinde mine eies
his beutie t'haue let in And on this verdict giuen agreed they bin VVherefore because his beauty did allure yee Your Doome is this in teares still to be drowned VVhen his faire forchead with disdain is frowned SONNET II. Beuty and Maiesty are falne at ods Th'one claimes his checke the other claimes his chin Then Vertue comes and puts her title in Quoth she I make him like th'immortall Gods Quoth Maiestie I owne his lookes his Brow His lips quoth Loue his eies his faire is mine And yet quoth Maiesty he is not thine I mixe Disdaine with Loues congealed Snow I but quoth Loue his lockes are mine by right His stately gate is mine quoth Maiestie And mine quoth Vertue is his Modestie Thus as they striue about this heauenly wight Atlast the other two to Vertue yeeld The lists of Loue fought in faire Beauties field SONNET III. The Stoicks thinke and they come neere the truth That vertue is the chiefest good of all The Academicks on Idea call The Epicures in pleasure spend their youth The Perrepatetickes iudge felicitie To be the chiefest good aboue all other One man thinks this that conceaues another So that in one thing very few agree Let Stoicks haue their Vertue if they will And all the rest their chiefe supposed good Let cruell Martialists delight in blood And Mysers ioy their bags with gold to fill My chiefest good my chiefe felicity Is to be gazing on my loues faire eie SONNET IIII. Two stars there are in one faire firmament Of some intitled Ganymedes sweet face VVhich other stars in brightnes doe disgrace As much as Po in clearenes passeth Trent Nor are they common natur'd stars for why These stars whē other shine vaile their pure light And when all other vanish out of sight They adde a glory to the worlds great eie By these two stars my life is onely led In them I place my ioy in them my pleasure Loues piercing Darts Natures precious treasure VVith their sweet foode my fainting soule is fed Then when my sunne is absent from my sight How can it chuse with me but be darke night SONNET V. It is reported of faire Thetis Sonne Achilles famous for his chiualry His noble minde and magnanimity That when the Troian wars were new begun VVhos'euer was deepe-wounded with his speare Could neuer be recured of his maime Nor euer after be made whole againe Except with that speares rust he holpen were Euen so it fareth with my fortune now VVho being wounded with his piercing eie Must either thereby finde a remedy Or els to be releeu'd I know not how Then if thou hast a minde stil to annoy me Kill me with kisses if thou wilt destroy me SONNET VI. Sweet Corrall lips where Natures treasure lies The balme of blisse the soueraigue salue of sorrow The secret touch of loues heart-burning arrow Come quench my thirst or els poore Daphne dies One night I dream'd alas twas but a Dreame That I did feele the sweetnes of the same Where-with inspir'd I young againe became And from my heart a spring of blood did streame But when I wak'e I found it nothing so Saue that my limbs me thought did waxe more strong And I more lusty far far more yong This gift on him rich Nature did bestow Then if in dreaming so I so did speede What should I doe if I did so indeede SONNET VII Sweet Thames I honour thee not for thou art The chiefest Riuer of the fairest Ile Nor for thou dost admirers eies beguile But for thou hold'st the keeper of my heart For on thy waues thy Christal billow'd waues My fairest faire my siluer Swan is swimming Against the sunne his pruned feathers trimming VVhilst Neptune his faire feete with water laues Neptune I feare not thee not yet thine eie And yet alas Apollo lou'd a boy And Cyparissus was Siluanus ioy No no I feare none but faire Thetis I For if she spie my Loue alas aie me My mirth is turn'd to extreame miserie SONNET VIII Sometimes I wish that I his pillow were So might I steale a kisse and yet not seene So might I gaze vpon his sleeping eine Although I did it with a panting feare But when I well consider how vaine my wish is Ah foolish Bees thinke I that doe not lucke His lips for hony but poore flowers doe plucke Which haue no sweet in them when his sole kisses Are able to reuiue a dying soule Kisse him but sting him not for if you doe His angry voice your flying will pursue But when they heare his tongue what can controule Their back returne for then they plaine may see How hony-combs from his lips dropping bee SONNET IX Diana on a time walking the wood To sport herselfe of her faire traine forlorne Chaunc't for to pricke her foote against a thorne And from thence issu'd out a streame of blood No sooner shee was vanisht out of sight But loues faire Queen came there away by chāce And hauing of this hap a glym'ring glance She put the blood into a christall bright When being now comne vnto mount Rhodope With her faire hands she formes a shape of Snow And blends it with this blood from whence doth grow A louely creature brighter then the Dey And being christned in faire Paphos shrine She call'd him Ganymede as all diuine SONNET X. Thus was my loue thus was my Ganymed Heauens ioy worlds wonder natures fairest work In whose aspect Hope and Dispaire doe lurke Made of pure blood in whitest snow yshed And for sweete Venus only form'd his face And his each member delicately framed And last of all faire Ganymede him named His limbs as their Creatrix her imbrace But as for his pure spotles vertuous minde Because it sprung of chaste Dianaes blood Goddesse of Maides directresse of all good Hit wholy is to chastity inclinde And thus it is as far as I can proue He loues to be belou'd but not to loue SONNET XI Sighing and sadly sitting by my Loue He ask't the cause of my hearts sorrowing Coniuring me by heauens eternall King To tell the cause which me so much did moue Compell'd quoth I to thee I will confesse Loue is the cause and onely loue it is That doth depriue me of my heauenly blisse Loue is the paine that doth my heart oppresse And what is she quoth he whō thou do'st loue Looke in this glasse quoth I there shalt thou see The perfect for me of my faelicitie When thinking that it would strāge Magique proue He open'd it and taking off the couer He straight perceau'd himselfe to be my Louer SONNET XII Some talke of Ganymede th' Idalian Boy And some offaire Adonis make their boast Some talke of him whom louely Lada lost And some of Ecchoes loue that was so coy They speake by heere-say 1 of perfect truth They partially commend the persons named And for them sweete Encomions haue framed I onely t'him haue sacrifiz'd my youth As for those wonders of antiquitie And those
Album is the only meane Farre be it from my thought duinest Maid To haue relation to thy heauenly hew In whose sweet voice the Muses are imbaid No pen can paint thy commendations due Saue only that pen which no pen can be An Angels quill to make a pen for thee But to returne to these vnhappie Louers Sleeping securely in each others armes VVhose sugred ioies nights sable mantle couers Little regarding their ensuing harmes VVhich afterward they iointhe both repented Fate is fore-seene but neuer is preuented VVhich saying to be true this lucklesse Dame Approued in the sequele of her story Now waxing pale now blushing red for shame Shee seales her lips with silence womens glory Till Agamemnon vrging her replies Thus of his death she truely prophecies The day shall come quoth she ô dismall daie When thou by false Aegistus shalt be slaine Heere could she tell no more but made a stay From further speech as willing to refraine Not knowing then nor little did she thinke That she with him of that same cup must drinke But what fond man he laughes her skil to scorne And icsteth at her diuination Ah to what vnbeliefe are Princes borne The onely ouer-throw of many a Nation And so it did befall this lucklesse Prince Whom all the world hath much lamented since Insteede of teares he smileth at hertale Insteede of griese he makes great shew of gladnes But after blisse there euer followes bale And after mirth there alwaiys commeth sadnes But gladnesse blisse and mirth had so possest him That sadnes bale griefe could not molest him Oh cruell Parcoe quoth Cassandra then Why are you Parce yet not mou'd with praier Oh small security of mortall men That liue on earth and breathe this vitall aire When we laugh most then are we next to sorrow The Birds feede vs to day we them to morrow But if the first did little moue his minde Her later speeches lesse with him preuailed Who being wholy bent to selfe-will inclinde Deemes her weake braine with lunacy assailed And still the more shee councels him to stay The more he striueth to make haste away How on the Seas he seap'd stormes rocks sholes Seas that enuide the conquest he had wone Gaping like hell to swallow Greekish soules I heere omit onely suppose it done His storm-tyrde Barke safely brings him to shore His whole Fleete els or suncke or lost before Lift vp thy head thou ashie-cyndred Troy See the commaunder of thy traitor foes That made thy last nights woe his first daies ioie Now gins his night of ioy and daie of wees His fall be thy d light thine was his pride As he thee then so now thou him deride He and Cassandra now are set on shore VVhich he salutes with ioy she greetes with teares Currors are sent that poast to Court before Whose tidings hll â—h'adultrous Queene with feares Who with Aegistus in a lost staind bed Her selfe her King her state dishonored Shee wakes the lecher with a loud-straind shrike Loue-toies they leaue now doth loment begin Ile flie quoth he our she doth that mislike Guilt vnto guilt and sinne she ad to sinne Shee meanes to kill immodest loue to couer A kingly husband for a caytiue louer The peoples ioies conceiued at his returne Their thronging multitudes their gladsome cries Their gleeful hymnes whiles piles of incense burne Their publique shewes kept at solemnities We passe and tell how King Queene did meet Where he with zeale she him with guile did greet He noble Lord fearelesse of hidden treason Sweetely salutes this weeping Crocodile Excusing euery cause with instant reason That kept him from her sight so long a while Shee faintly pardons him smiling by Art For life was in her lookes death in her hart For pledge that I am pleas'd receiue quoth shee This rich wrought robe thy Clytemnestraes toile Her ten yeeres worke this day shall honour thee For ten yeeres war and one daies glorious spoile Whil'st thou contendedst there I heere did this Weare it my loue my life my ioy my blisse Searce had the Syren said what I haue writ But he kind Prince by her milde words misled Receiu'd the robe to trie if it were fit The robe that had no issue for his head Which whil'st he vainly hoped to haue found Aegistaes pierst him with a mortal wound Oh how the Troyan Damzell was amazed To see so fell and bloudy a Tragedie Performed in one Act she naught but gazed Vpon the picture whom she dead did see Before her face whose body she emballms With brennish teares and sudden deadly qualms Faine would she haue fled backe on her swift horse But Clytemnestra bad her be content Her time was com'n now bootelesse vs'd she force Against so many whom this Tygresse sent To apprehene her who within one hower Brought backe againe was lockt within a Tower Now is she ioylesse friendlesse and in fine VVithout all hope of further libertie In steed of cates cold water was her wine And Agamemnons corps her meate must be Or els she must for hunger starue poore sole What could she do but make great mone dole So darke the dungeon was wherein she was That neither Sunne by day nor Mone by night Did shew themselues and thus it came to passe The Sunne denide to lend his glorious light To such a periur'd wight or to be seene What neede shee light that ouer-light had bin Now silent night drew on when all things sleepe Saue theeues cares now stil mid-night came VVhen sad Cassandra did naught els but weepe Oft calling on her Agamemnons name But seeing that the dead did not replie Thus she begins to mourne lament and crie Oh cruell Fortune mother of dispaire Well art thou christen'd with a cruell name Since thou regardest not the wise or faire But do'st bestow thy riches to thy shame On fooles lowly swaines that care not for thee And yet I weepe and yet thou do'st abhorre me Fie on ambition fie on filthy pride The roote of ill the cause of all my woe On whose fraile yee my youth first slipt aside And falling downe receru'd a fatall blow Ah who hath liu'd to see such miserie As I haue done and yet I cannot die I liu'd quoth she to see Troy set a fire I liu'd to see renowmed Hector slaine I liu'd to see the shame of my desire And yet I liue to feele more grienous paine Let all young maides example take by me To keepe their oathes and spotlesse chastity Happy are they that neuer liu'd to know What t'is to liue in this world happily Happy are they which neuer yet felt woe Happy are they that die in infancie Whose sins are cancell'd in their mothers wombe Whose cradle is their graue whose lap their tomb Here ended shee then her teares began That Chorus-like at euery word downe rained VVhich like a paire of christall fountaines ran A long her louely cheekes with roses stained VVhich as they wither still for want of raine Those siluer showers water them againe Now had the poore-mans clock shrili chauntcleare Twice giuen notice of the Mornes approach That then began in glorie to appeare Drawne in her stately colour'd saffron-Coach VVhen shee poore Lady almost turn'd to teares Began to teare and rend her golden haires Lie there quoth shee the workers of my woes You trifling toies which my liues staine haue bin You by whose meanes our coines chiefly growes Clothing the backe with pride the soule with sin Lie there quoth shee the causers of my care This said her robes shee all in peeces tare Here-with as weary of her wretched life VVhich shee inioy'd with small faelicitie Thee ends her fortune with a fatall knife First day of ioy last day of miserie Then why is death accounted Natures foe Since death indeed is but the end of woe For as by death her bodie was released From that strong prison made of lime and stone Euen so by death her purest soule was cased From bodies prison and from endlesse mone VVhere now shee walkes in sweete Elysium The place for wrongful Death and Martirdum FINIS