Selected quad for the lemma: love_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
love_n	heaven_n	love_v	soul_n	5,739	5	5.0400	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11612	Daiphantus, or the passions of loue Comicall to reade, but tragicall to act: as full of wit, as experience. By An. Sc. gentleman. Wherevnto is added, The passionate mans pilgrimage.	Scoloker, Anthony, fl. 1604.; Raleigh, Walter, Sir, 1552?-1618. aut; Raleigh, Walter, Sir, 1552?-1618. Passionate mans pilgrimage. aut	1604 (1604)	STC 21853; ESTC S102605	19,845	52

himself hath tane the fall ' Beautie and Vertue who did praise the fashion ' VVho Loue and Fancie thought a Comodie ' Now is turn'd Poet and writes Loue in Passion ' His Verses fits the bleeding Tragedie In Willow weeds right wel he acts his part His Sceanes are teares whose Embryon was his hart He loues where loue to all doth proue disaster ' His eyes no sooner see but hee 's straight blind His kindred friends or foes he followes faster Then his owne good he 's now but too too kind He that spent all would faine find out loues treasure Extremities are for extreams the measure Thus thinkes he of the words he spent in vaine And wishes now his tongue had Eloquence Hee 's dumbe all motion that a world could gaine A Centre now without circumference Cupid with words who fought would teach him Art Hath lost his tongue and with it left his hart ' He sweares he loues the heat doth proue the fire ' He weepes his Loue his teares shew his affection ' He writes his Loue his Lynes plead his desire ' He sings his Loue the Dittie mournes the action He sings writs weeps sweares that he 's in sadnes It is beleeu'd not cur'd Loue turnes to madnes ' Loue once dissembled Oaths are a grace most slender ' Teares oft are heard Embassadors for beauty ' Words writ in gold an yron heart may render 'A passion song shewes much more hope thē duty Oaths spoke in teares words song proue no true Ditty A fained Loue must find a fained pitty Thus is the good Daiphantus like the Flie Who playing with the candle feeles the flame The smiles of scorne are Louers miserie That soule 's most vext is grieued with his name Though kind Daiphantus do most loue protest ' Yet is his crosse still to be thought in iest Poore torturde Louer like a periurde soule Sweares till hee 's hoarse yet neuer is beleeu'd Whose once a Villaine still is counted foule Oh wofull pittie when with winde releeu'de ' Learns this by rote Though Loue vnconstant be ' They must proue constant wil her comforts see Now to the humble heart of his dread Saint Eurialae he kneels but 's not regarded Then to Vrania sighes till he growes faint Such is her wit In silence hee 's rewarded ' His humble voyce Eurialae accuseth ' His sighing Passion Vrania refuseth ' Then lifts he vp his eyes but Heauen frowneth ' Bowes downe his head Earth is a Masse of sorrow ' Runnes to the seas the sea it stormes and howleth ' Hies to the woods the Birds sad tunes do borrow Heauē Earth sea Woods al things do cōspire ' He burne in Loue yet friese in his desire The Ladyes Iest command him to seigne still Tell him how one day he may be in loue That Louers reason hath not Loues free will Smile in disdaine to thinke of that he proues ' Oh me Daiphantus howart thou aduis'd ' When hee 's lesse pittied then he is despis'd They hold this but his humour seeme so wise And many Louers stories forth do bring Court him with Shaddowes whilest hee catcheth Flies Byting his fingers till the blood forth spring Then do they much cōmend his careles passion ' Call him a Louer of our Courtiers Fashion All this doe they in modestie yet free From thinking him so honest as in truth Much lesse so kinde as to loue two or three Him neere allied and he himselfe a Youth 'Till with the sweat which from his suffrings life ' His face is pearled like the lights his eyes Then with his looke-down-cast trembling hand A high Dutch colour and a Tongue like yee Apart with this Eurialae to stand Endeuours He This was his last diuice ' Yet in so humble straines this Gallant courts her ' The wind being hiē his breath it neuer hurts her Speechles thus standes he till she fear'd him dead And rubbes his temples calls and cryes for ayde Water is fetcht and spung'd into his head Who then startes vp from dreaming as he sayd And crauing absence of all but this Saint He gan to court her but with a heart right faint Bright starre of Phoebus Goddesse of my thought Behold thy Vassall humbled on his knee Behold for thee what Gods and Art hath wrought A man adoring of Loue the lowest degree I loue I honor thee no more There stayde As if forsworne Euen so was he affrayde Eurialae now spake yet seem'd in wonder Her lips when parting heauen did ope his treasure Oh do not do not loue I will not sunder A heart in two Loue hath nor height nor measure Liue still a Virgin Then I le be thy louer Heauē here did close no toong could after moue her As if in heauen he was rauish'd so Oh Loue oh Voice oh Face which is the glorie Oh Day oh Night oh Age oh worlds of Ioy Of euery part true loue might write a storie Conuert my sighes oh to some angells tongue To die for Loue is life death is best young She gone Vrania came he on the flower But sight of her reuiu'd this noble syre And as if Mars did thunder words did shower Loue speakes in heate when t is in most desire She made him mad whose sight had him reuiu'de Now speaks he plainly stormes past y e aire is glide Why was I made to beare such woe and griefe Why was I borne But in Loue to be norisht Why then for Loue Loue of all vertues chiefe And I not pittied though I be not cherisht What did my eyes offend in vertue seeing Oh no true vertue is the Louers being Beautie and vertue are the twins of life Loue is the mother which them forth doth bring Wit with discretion ends the Louers strife Patience with silence is a glorious thing Loue crownes a man loue giues to al due merit Men without loue are bodies without spirit Loue to a mortall is both life and treasure Loue changd to wedlocke doubleth in her glory Loue is the Iem whose worth is without measure Fame dies if not in tombe within Loues storie Man that liues liues not if he wants content Man that dies dies not if with Loues consent Thus spake Daiphantus and thus spake he well Which wise Vrania well did vnderstand So well she like it As it did excell Now grac'd she him with her white slender hand With words most sweet A colour fresh and faire In heauenly speech she gan his woes declare My good Daiphantus Loue it is no toy Cupid though blind yet strikes the heart at last His force you feele whose power must breed your ioy This is the meede for scoffs you on him cast You loue who scorn'd your loue with scorne is quite You loue yet want your loue with want is spight Loue playes the Wanton where she meanes to kill Loue rides the Foole and spurs without direction Loue weepes like you yet laughs at your good wil Loue is of all things but the true confection Loue

is of euery thing yet it self 's but one thing Loue is any thing yet indeed is nothing Wee Virgins know this though not the force of Loue For we two Sisters liue as in a Cell Nor do we scorne it though we it not approue By Prayer we hope her charmes for to repel And thus adew But you in Progresse goe To finde fit place to warble forth your woe Who first seekes mercie is the last for griefe Thus did shee part whose Image stayd behind He in a trance stands mute finds no reliefe For she was absent whose tongue pleas'd his mind But like a hartlesse a hurtlesse Creature In admiration of so sweet a Feature At length look't vp his shaddow onely seeing Sighs to himselfe and weeps yet silent stands Kneels riseth walkes all this without true being Sure he was there though fettred in Loues-bands His lips departed Parted were his blisses Yet for pure Loue each lip the other kisses Reuiu'd by this or else Imagination Recalls things past the time to come laments Records his Loue but with an acclamation Repents himselfe and all these Accidents Now with the wings of Loue he gins to raise His Loue to gaine thus women he doth praise ' Women than Men are purer creatures farre ' The soule of soules the blessed gift of Nature 'To men a heauen To men the brightest starre ' The pearle that 's matchles high without al stature ' So full of goodnes that bounty waiteth still ' Vpon their trencher feeds them with free-will Where seeke we vertue learne true Art or glory Where finde we ioy that lasteth still is spending But in sweet women of mans life the Storie Alpha they are Omega is their ending Their vertues shine with such a sun of brightnes Yet he 's vnwise that looks in them for Lightnes Oh let my Pen relate mine owne decay There are which are not or which should not be Some shap't like saints whose steps are not the way Oh let my Verse not name their infamie These hurt not all but euen the wandring eye VVhich fondly gapes for his owne miserie These do not harme the Honest or the Iust The faithfull Louer or the vertuous Dame But those whose soules be onely giuen to Lust Care more for pleasure then for worthy Fame But peace my Muse for now me thinkes I heare An Angels voyce come warbling in my eare Not distant farre within a Garden faire The sweet ●rtesia sang vnto her Lute Her voyce charmde Cupid and perfumde the Aire Made beasts stand still and birds for to be mute Her voice beauty prou'd so sad a ditty VVho saw was blind who heard soone sued for pitty This Ladie was no Virgin like the rest Yet neare allied By Florence Cittie dwelling Nature and Art within her both were blest ‡ Musicke in her and Loue had his excelling To visite her faire Cozens of she came ' Perhaps more iocound but no whit to blame Fortune had crost her with a churlish Mate Who Strymon hight A Palmer was his Syre Full Nobly borne And of a wealthy state His sonne a childe not borne to his desire ' Thus was she crost which caused her thereby ' Daiphantus griefe to mourne by Simpathie Daiphantus hearing such a Swan-tun'd voyce VVas rauisht as with Angells Melodie Though in this Laborinth blest could not reioyce Nor yet could see what brought this Harmony At length this Goddesse ceast began draw neare ' Who whē he saw he saw not t' was her spheare Away then crept he on his knees and hands To hide himself thoght Venus came to plauge him Which she espying like the Sunne she stands As with her beames she thoght for to aswage him But like the Sun which gaz'd on blinds the eie So He by her and so resou'ld to die At this in wonder softly did she pace it Yet suddenly was stayd His Verses ceaz'd her Which he late writ forgot thus was he grac't She read them ouer and the writing pleas'd her ' For Cupid fram'd two Mottoes in her hart ' The one as Dian's the other for his Dart. She read pittied reading pittie taught She Lou'd and hated Hate to loue did turne She smilde wep● her weeping smiling brought She hop't fear'd her hopes in feare did mourne She read lou'd smil'd hop't but t was in vaine ' Her teares still dread pitty hate did gaine ' She could haue lou'd him such true verses making ' She might haue lou'd him and yet loue beguiling ' She would haue kist him but fear'd his awaking ' She might haue kist him and sleep sweetly smiling ' She thus afear'd did feare what she most wished ' He thus in hope still hop'd for that he missed He lookte They two long each on other gazed Sweet silence pleaded what each other thought Thus Loue and Fancie both alike amazed As if their tongues and hearts had bin distraught Artesias voyce thus courted him at length The more she spake the greater was his strength Good gentle Sir your Fortunes I bemone And wish my state so happy as to ease you But she that grieude you She it is alone Whose breath can cure and whose kind words appease you VVere I that She heauē should my star extinguish If you but lou'd me ere I would relinquish Yet noble Sir I can no loue protest For I am wedded oh word full fraught with woe But in such manner as good loue is blest In honest kindnesse I le not proue your foe Mine owne experience doth my counsell proue I know to pittie yet not care to loue A Sister yet nature hath giuen me A virgin true right faire and sweetly kind I● for her good Fortune hath driuen me To be a comfort your heart shall be her minde My woes yet tells me she is best a maide And heere shee stopt her teares her words thus staide Daiphantus then in number without measure Began her praises which no Pen can end Oh Saint oh Sun of heauen and earth the treasure Who liues if not thy honour to defend Ah me what mortall can be in loue so strange That wedding vertue will a whoring range She like the morning is still fresh and faire The Elements of her they all do borrow The Earth the Fire the VVaters and the Ayre There strength heate moisture liuelines no sorrow Can vertue change beauty hath but one place The hearts still perfect though impald the face Oh eyes no eyes but Stars still cleerly shining Oh face no face but shape of Angells fashion Oh lips no lips but blisse by kisse refining Oh heart no heart but of true loue right Passion Oh eyes face lips and heart if not too cruell To see feele tast and loue earths rarest Iewell This said he paus'd new praises now deuising Kneels to Apollo for his skill and Art When came the Ladies At which he arising Twixt lip and lip he had nor lips nor heart ' His eyes their eyes so sweetly did incumber Although awak't yet in a

Infant Storie I sing the new World in an auncient Dittie I sing this World yea this worlds shame and glory I sing a Medley of rigor and of Pittie I sing the Courts Cyties and the Countrey fashions Yet sing I but of loue and her strange passions I sing that Antheme Louers sigh in sadnesse I sing sweete tunes of ioyes in wo-ven Verses I sing those Lines I once did act in madnesse I sing and weepe teares follow Births and Herses I sing a Dirge a Furie did indight it I sing My Selfe whilst I my Selfe do write it I inuocate to grace my Artlesse labor The faithfull Goddesse men call Memorie True Poets treasure and their wits best fauour To decke my Muse with truest Poesie Though Loue write wel yet Passiō blindes th'affecton Man ne're rules right that 's in the least subiection Sweete Memorie soules life new life increasing The eye of Iustice tongue of eloquence The locke of Larning Fountaine neuer ceasing The Cabinet of Secrets Caske of Sence Which gouern'll Nature teacheth man his awe That art all Conscience and yet rulst by Law Blesse thou this Loue song-ayre of my best wishes Thou art the Parent nourisheth desire Blow gentle winds safeland me at my Blisses Loue still mouats high though Louers not aspire My Poem's truth ●ond Poets seigne at pleasure A Louing Subiect is a Princes treasure THE PASSIONS OF LOVE IN Venice faire the Citie most admir'd There liu'd a Gallant who Da●phantus hight Right Nobly borne well Letter'd Lou'd Desir'd Of euery Courtyer in their most delight ' So full of Pleasaunce that he seem'd to be 'A man begot in Venus infancie His face was faire full comely was his feature Lip't like the Cherrie with a Wantons eye A Mars in anger yet a Venus Creature Made part of Cynthia most of Mercurie A pittied soule so made of Loue and hate Though still belou'd in Loue vnfortunate Thus made by Nature Fortune did conspire To ballance him with weight of Cupids Wings Passant in Loue yet oft in great desire Sudden in Loue not stayd in any thing He courted all not lou'd and much did striue To die for Loue yet neuer meant to wiue As Nature made him faire so likewise wittie She not content his thoughts thus very fickle Fortune that gain'd him plac'st him in this Citie To wheele his head which she had made most tickle Fortune made him belou'd and so distraught him His reynes let forth he fell and Cupid caught him Not farre from Venice in an Abbie faire Well wal'd about two worthy Ladyes dwelt Who Virgins were so sweet and Debonayre The ground they trod on of their odour smelt Two Virgin-Sisters matchlesse in a Pheare Had liued Virgins wel-nigh eighteene yeare Eurialae the Elder Sister 's nam'd The other was Vrania the wise Nature for making them was surely blam'd Venus her selfe by them all did despise ' Such beauties with such vertue So combind ' That al exceeds yet nought exceeds their mind Eurialae so shewes as doth the Sunne When mounted on the continent of Heauen Yet oft she 's clowded but when her glorie 's come Two Suns appeare to make her glory euen ' Her smiles sends brightnes when the Sun 's not bright ' Her lookes giue beauty whē the sun lends light Modest and humble of Nature milde and sweete Vnmatched beauty with her vertue meeting Proud that her lowly bezaunce doth regreet With her chast silence Vertue euer keeping ' This is the Sunne that sets before it rise ' This is a Starre No lesse are both her eyes Her beautie pearlesse pearlesse is her minde Her body matchlesse matchlesse are her thoughts Her selfe but one but one like her we finde Her wealth 's her vertue such vertue is not bought ' This is a heauen on earth makes her diuine ' This is the Sunne obscures where it doth shi●● Vrania next Oh that I had that Art Could write her worth her worth no eye may see Or that her tongue oh heauen were now my hart what siluer Lines in showres should drop from me My heart she keepes how can I then indite ' No heart-lesse creature can Loue-passions write As a black vaile vpon the wings of morne Brings forth a day as cleere as Venus face Or a faire Iewell by an Ethiope worne Inricheth much the eye which it doth grace Such is her beautie if it well be told Plac'st in a Iettie Chariot set with gold Her haire Nights Canopie in mourning weedes Is still inthron'd when lockt within is seene A Deitie drawne by a paire of Steedes Like Venus eyes And if the like haue beene Her eyes two radiant Starres but yet diuine Her face daies-sun heauen al if once they shine Vpon the left side of this heauenly feature In Curious worke Nature hath set a Seale Wherein is writ This is a matchlesse Creature Where wit and beautie striues for the appeale The Iudges chosde are Loue Fancie They rise And looking on her with her left their eyes Her Wit and Beautie were at many fraies Whether the deepe impressions did cause Nature said Beautie Art her Wit did praise Loue thought her face her tongue had Truths applause Whilest they contend which was the better part I lent an Eie She rob'd me of my heart Sisters these two are like the Day and Night Their glories by their vertues they doe Merit One as the Day to see the others might The others Night to shadow a high Spirit If all were Day how could a Louer rest Or if all Night Louers were too much blest Both faire As eke their bodies tall and slender Both wise yet Silence shewes their modestie Both graue although they both are yong tender Both humble hearted Not in Pollicie So faire wise graue and humble are esteem'd ' Yet what men see the worst of them is deem'd ' Nature that made them faire doth loue perfection ' What youth counts wisdō Age doth bring to trial ' Graue years in youth in Age needs no direction ' An humble heart deserues findes no denyall Faires ring their Knells yet Fame neuer dies True Iudgemēt's frō the hart not from the eies These two two Sisters Cozens to this Louer He often courts As was his wonted fashion Who sweares all 's fayre yet hath no heart to proue her Seems still in Loue or in a Louers passion Now learn's this Lesson Loue-scoffers find it Cupid hits rightest whē Louers do least mind it Although his guise were fashion'd to his mind And wording Loue As complement he vsde Seem'd still to iest at Loue and Louers kind Neuer obtainde but where he was refusde Yet now his words with wit so are rewarded He loues loues two loues all of none regarded Now he that laught to heare true Louers sigh Can bite his Lippes vntill his heart doth bleed Who Iyb'd at al loues al ech daies his night Who scorn'd now weeps howles writes his own meed ' He that would bandy Loue is now the Ball ' Who fear'd no hazard

golden slumber Most like a Lion rais'd from slumbring ease He cast his lookes full grimly them among ' At length he firmly knit what might appease ' His Brow lok't stedfastly and long ' At one till all their eyes with his eyes met alike ' On faire Vitullia who his heart did strike Vitullia faire yet browne So mixt together As Art and Nature stroue which was the purest So sweet her smilings were a grace to either That heauens glorie in that face seem'd truest Venus excepted when the God her wooed Was ne're so faire so tempting yet so good ' VVonder not Mortalls though all Poets saine The Muses Graces were in this She 's fauour ' Nor wonder though he stroue his tongue to gaine For I leese mine in thinking of his labour Well may he loue I write all wits praise her She 's so all humble Learning cannot raise her ' Daiphantus oft sigh't Oh oft said faire ' Then lookes and sighes and thē cryes wonderfull ' Thus did he long and truely t' was not rare ' The obiect was which made his mind so dull 'Pray pardon him for better to cry Oh ' Then feele that passiō which caused him sigh so Now all were silent not alone this Louer Till came Ismenio Brother to this Saint Whose haste made sweate his tongue he could not proue her For this aga'st him that his heart was saint Thus all amaz'd none knowing any cause Ismenio breathlesse here had time to pause At length Ismenio who had wit and skill Question'd the reason of this strange effect At last related Haste out went his will He told them he was sent them to direct VVhere hunting sports their eyes should better please Who first went foorth Daiphantus most did ease They gone Daiphantus to his Standish hies Thinkes in his writs Vitullia's beauties weare But what he wrote his Muse not iustifies Bids him take time Loue badly writes in feare Her worthy praise if he would truly wite Her Kisses Nector must the same indite Art and sweet nature let your influence droppe From me like rayne Yes yes in golden showres VVhose end is Vertue let him neuer stoppe But fall on her like dewe on sprinkling flowers That both together meeting may beget An Orpheus Two Iems in a soyle richly set Thus Rauisht then distracted as was deem'd Not taught to write of Loue in this extreame In Loue in feare yea trembling as it seem'd If praising her he should not keepe the meane Thus vext he wept his teares intreated pittie But Loue vnconstant tunes a wofull Dittie Now kneels to Venus Faithfulnesse protested To this none else this was his onely Saint Vow'd e're her seruice Or to be arrested To Venus Censure Thus he left to faint His Loue brought wit wit ingrendred Sprite True loue and wit thus learn'd him to indite As the milde lambe runs forth frō shepheards fold By rauenous Woolues is caught and made a praye So is my Sence by which Loue taketh hold Tormented more then any tongue can saye The difference is they torturde so doe die I feede the torment breeds my miserie ' Consum'd by her I liue such is her glory ' Despis'd of her I loue I more adore her I le ne're write ought but of her vertues storie Beautie vnblasted is the eyes rich storer If I should die Oh who would ring loues knell Faint not Daiphantus wise mē loue not so well Like Heauens Artist the Astronomer Gazing on Starres oft to the Earth doth fall So I Daiphantus now Loues Harbinger Am quite condemned to Loues Funerall VVho falls by women by them oft doth rise Ladyes haue lips to kisse as well as Eyes But tush thou foole thou lou'st all thou seest VVho once thou louest thou shouldst change her neuer Constant in Loue Daiphantus see thou beest If thou hope comfort Loue but once and euer Fortune Oh be so good to let me finde A Ladie liuing of this constant minde Oh I would weare her in my hearts heart-gore And place her on the continent of starres Thinke heauē and earth like her had not one more VVould fight for her till all my face were skarres ' But if that women be such fickle Shee s Men may be like them in infirmities Oh no Daiphantus women are not so T is but their shadowes Pictures meerly painted Then turne poore louer Oh heauen not to my wo Then to Vitullia with that word he fainted Yet she that wounds did heale like her no heauen Ods in a man a woman can make euen Oh My Vitullia let me write That downe Oh sweete Vitullia nature made thee sweete Oh kind Vitullia Truth hath the surest ground I le weepe or laugh so that our hearts may meet Loue is not alwayes merry nor still weeping A drop of each Loues ioies are swets in sleeping Her name in golden letters on my brest I le graue Around my temples in a garland weare My art shall be her fauour for to haue My learning still her honour high to reare My lips shall cloze but to her sacred name My tongue be silent but to spread her Fame In Woodes Groaues Hills Vitullias name shall ring In Medowes Orchiards Gardens sweetest faire I le learne the birds her name alone to sing All Quires shall chaunt it in a heauenly Aire ' The Day shall be her Vsher Night her Page ' Heauen her Pallace and this Earth her stage ' Virgins pure chastnes in her eyes shall be ' Women true loue from her true mind shall learne ' Widdowes their mourning in her face shall see ' Children their dutie in her speech discerne And all of them in loue with each but I Who feare her loue will make me feare to die ' My Orisons are still to please this creature ' My vallour sleepes but when she is defended ' My wits still Iaded but when I praise her feature ' My life is hers In her begun and ended Oh happy day wherein I weare not willow Thrice blessed night wherin her brest 's my pillow ' I le serue her as the Mistresse of all pleasure ' I le loue her as the Goddesse of my soule ' I le keepe her as the Iewell of all treasure ' I le liue with her yet out of loues controule ' That all may know I will not from her part ' I le double locke her in my lips and heart ' If ere I sigh It shall be for her pittie ' If ere I mourne her Funerall drawes neare ' If ere I sing her vertue is the dittie ' If ere I smile her beautie is the spheare ' All that I doe is that I may admire her ' All that I wish is that I still desire her But peace Daiphantus Musicke is onely sweete When without discord A Consort makes a heauē The eare is rauisht when true voyces meete Oddes but in Musicke neuer makes things euen In voyces difference breeds a pleasant Dittie In loue a difference brings a scornfull pittie VVhose was the tongue Eurialae defended

VVhose was the wit Vrania did praise VVhose were the lips Artesias voice commended Whose was the hart lou'd all al crown'd with baies Sure t' was my selfe what did I O I tremble Yet I le not weep wise men may loue dissemble Fie no fond loue hath euer his reward A Sea of teares A world of sighes and grones Ah me Vitullia will haue no regard To ease my griefe and cure me of my mones If once her eare should hearken to that voyce Relates my Fortunes in Loues fickle choyse But now I will their worth with her's declare That Truth by Error may haue her true beeing Things good are lessned by the thing that 's rare Beautie increaseth by a blacknesse seeing ' Wo so is faire and chaste they sure are best ' Such is Vitullia such are all the rest ' But she is faire and chaste and wise what then ' So are they all without a difference ' She 's faire chaste wise and kinde yes to all men The rest are so Number makes Excellence ' She 's faire chaste wise kind rich yet humble ' They three her equall vertue cā neuer stumble ' Vtiullia is the Sunne they starres of night ' Yet night's the bosome wherin the Sun doth rest ' The Moone her selfe borrowes of the Suns light ' All by the starres take counsell to be blest The day's the Sunne yet Cupid can it blind The stars at night sleepe cures y e troubled mind ' She is a Rose the fairer so the sweeter ' She is a Lute whose belly tunes the Musicke ' She is my Prose yet makes me speake all Meeter ' She is my life yet sicknes me with Phisicke ' She is a Virgin that makes her a Iewell ' She will not loue me therein she is cruell Eurialae is like sleepe when one is wearie Vrania is like a golden slumber Artesias voyce like dreames that makes man merry Vitullia like a Bed all these in comber 1 Sleepe 2 Slumber 3 Dreames vpon a 4 Bed is best First Second Third but in the Fourth is blest Oh but Vitullia what She 's wonders prittie Oh I and what so is she very faire Oh yes and what she 's like her selfe most wittie And yet what is she She is all but Aire What can Earth be but Earth so we are all ' Peace then my Muse Opinion oft doth fall Eurialae I honour for humilitie ' Vrania I reuerence for her wit ' Artesia I adore for true agillitie ' Three Graces for the Goddesses most fit Each of these gifts are blessed in their faces Oh what 's Vitullia who hath all these Graces She 's but a Ladie So are all the rest As pure as sweet as modest yea as loyall Yes She 's the shadow shadowes are the lest Which tells the houre of vertue by her Dyall ' By her men see there is on earth a heauen ' By thē men know her vertues are match't euen In praysing all much time he vainly spent Yet thought none worthy but Vitullia Then cal'd to minde he could not well repent The loue he bare the wise Vrania Eurialae Artesia all such beauties had Which as they pleas'd him made him well nigh mad ' Eurialae her beautie his eye-sight harmed ' Vrania her wit his tongue incensed ' Artesia her voyce his eares had charmed ' Thus poore Daiphantus was with loue tormented Vitullius beautie as he did impart The others vertues vanquished his heart At length he grew as in an extasie Twixt loue and loue whose beautie was the truer His thoughts thus diuers as in a Lunacie He starts and stares to see whose was the purer Oft treads a Maze runs suddenly then stayes Thus with himselfe himself makes many frayes Now with his fingers like a Barber snaps Playes with the fire-pan as it were a Lute Vnties his shoe-strings then his lips he laps Whistles awhile and thinkes it is a Flute At length a glasse presents it to his sight Where well he acts fond loue in passions right His chin he strokes sweares beardles men kisse best His lips anoynts sayes Ladyes vse such fashions Spets on his Napkin termes that the Bathing Iest Then on the dust describes the Courtiers passion Then humble cal's though they do still aspire Ladies then fall when Lords rise by Desire Then stradling goes saies Frenchmen feare no Beares Vowes he will trauaile to the Siege of Brest Swears Captaines they doe all against the heare Protests Tabacco is A smoke-dride Iest Takes vp his pen for a Tabacco-pipe Thus all besmeard each lip the other wipe His breath he thinkes the smoke his tongue a cole Then calls for bottell-ale to quench his thirst Runs to his Inke-pot drinkes then stops the hole And thus growes madder then he was at first Tasso he finds by that of Hamlet thinkes Tearmes him a mad-man than of his Inkhorne drinks Calls Players fooles the foole he iudgeth wisest Will learne them Action out of Chaucers Pander Proues of their Poets bawdes euen in the highest Then drinkes a health and sweares it is no slander Puts off his cloathes his shirt he onely weares Much like mad Hamlet thus as Passion teares Who calls me forth from my distracted thought Oh Serberus if thou I prethy speake Reuenge if thou I was thy Riuall ought In purple gores I le make the ghosts to reake Vitullia oh Vitullia be thou still I le haue reuenge or harrow vp my will I le fallow vp the wrinkles of the earth Goe downe to Hell and knocke at Plutoes gate I le turne the hilles to vallies make a dearth ' Of vertuous honour to eternall Fate I le beat the windes make the tydes keepe back Reigne in the sea That Louers haue no wrack Yes tell the Earth it is a Murderer Hath slayne Vitullia oh Vitullia's dead I le count blinde Cupid for a Conjurer And with wilde horses will I rend his head I with a Pickax will plucke out his braines Laugh at this Boy ease Louers of much paines Oh then I le flie I le swim yet stay and then I le ride the Moone make the cloudes my Horse Make me a Ladder of the heads of men Clime vp to heauen yes my tongue will force To Gods and Angels Oh I le neuer end Till for Vituillia all my cryes I spend Then like a spirit of pure Innocence I le be all white and yet behold I le cry Reuenge Oh Louers this my sufferance Or else for Loue for Loue a soule must die Eurialae Vrania Artesia Soe Heart rent in sunder with these words of woe But soft here comes who comes and not calls out Of Rape and Murder Loue and Villanie Stay wretched man who runs doth neuer doubt It is thy Soule thy Saint thy Deitie Then call the Birds to ring a mourning Knell For mad Daiphantus who doth loue so well Oh sing a Song parted in parcels three I 'le beare the burthen still of all your griefe Who is all woe can tune his miserie To discontents but not to his