The time, that mortal men their weary cares
Do lay away, and all wild beafts do reft,
And every river eke his course forbears,
Then doth this wicked evil thee infeft,
And rive with thoufand throbs thy thrilled breaft:
Like an huge Ætn' of deep engulfed grief,
Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow cheft,
Whence forth it breaks in fighs and anguish rife, As fmoak and fulphur mingled with confused ftrife. XXXIII.
Ay me, how much I fear, left love it be;
But if that love it be, as fure I read
By knowen figns and paffions, which I fee,
Be't worthy of thy race and royal feed,
Then I avow by this moft facred head
Of my dear fofter child, to eafe thy grief,
And win thy will: Therefore away do dread;
For death nor danger from thy due relief
Shall me debar: tell me therefore my liefeft lief.
XXXIV.
So having faid, her 'twixt her armës twain
She ftraightly ftrain'd, and colled tenderly,
And every trembling joint, and every vein
She foftly felt, and rubbed bufily,
To do the frozen cold away to fly;
And her fair dewy eyes with kiffes dear
She oft did bathe, and oft again did dry;
And ever her importun'd, not to fear
To let the fecret of her heart to her appear.
XXXV.
The Damzel paus'd, and then thus fearfully;
Ah nurfe! what needeth thee to eke my pain?
Is not enough that I alone do dye,
But it must doubled be with death of twain?
For nought for me but death there doth remain.
O daughter dear, faid fhe, defpair no whit;
For never fore, but- might a falve obtain :
That blinded God, which hath ye blindly fmit,
Another arrow hath your lovers heart to hit.
But mine is not, quoth fhe, like others wound;
For which no reafon can find remedy.
Was never fuch, but mote the like be found,
Said fhe, and though no reason may apply
Salve to your fore, yet Love can higher fty
Than reafons reach, and oft hath wonders done.
But neither God of love, nor God of fky
Can do (faid fhe) that, which cannot be done.
Things oft impoffible (faid fhe) feem ere begun.
XXXVII.
Thefe idle words, faid fhe, do nought affwage]
My stubborn smart, but more annoyance breed:
For no, no usual fire, no usual rage
It is, O nurse, which on my life doth feed,
And fucks the blood, which from my heart doth bleed.
But fith thy faithful zeal lets me not hide
My crime (if crime it be) I will it read.
Nor Prince, nor peer it is, whofe love hath gride My feeble breast of late, and launced this wound wide; XXXVIII.
Nor man it is, nor other living wight,
For then fome hope I might unto me draw
But th'only fhade and femblant of a Knight,
Whose shape or perfon yet I never faw,
Hath me fubjected to loves cruel law :
The fame one day as me misfortune led,
I in my father's wondrous mirrour faw,
And pleased with that feeming goodly-hed,
Unwares the hidden hook with bait I fwallowed.
XXXIX.
Sithence, it hath infixed fafter hold
Within my bleeding bowels, and fo fore
Now rankleth in this fame frail fleshly mould,
That all mine entrails flow with pois'nous gore,
And th'ulcer groweth daily more and more;
Ne can my running fore find remedy,
Other than my hard fortune to deplore,
And languish as the leaf fall'n from the tree,
Till death make one end of my days and mifery.
XL.
Daughter faid fhe, what need ye be dismaid,
Or why make ye fuch monster of your mind?
Of much more uncouth thing I was affraid;
Of filthy luft, contrary unto kind:
But this affection nothing ftrange I find;
For who with reafon can you ay reprove,
To love the femblant pleafing moft your mind,
And yield your heart whence ye cannot remove?
No guilt in you but in the tyranny of love.
Not fo th' Arabian Myrrh' did fet her mind;
Not fo did Biblis fpend her pining heart,
But lov'd their native flesh against all kind,
And to their purpose used wicked art:
Yet play'd Pafyphaë a more monstrous part,
That lov'd a Bull, and learn'd a beast to be;
Such shameful lufts who loaths not, which depart
From course of nature and of modesty ?
Sweet Love fuch lewdnefs bands from his fair company.
XLII.
But thine, my Dear (welfare thy heart my dear}
Though strange beginning had, yet fixed is
On one, that worthy may perhaps appear;
And certes feems bestowed not amifs:
Joy thereof have thou and eternal bliss.
With that up-leaning on her elbow weak,
Her alablafter breaft fhe foft did kiss,
Which all that while fhe felt to pant and quake, As it an earth-quake were; at laft fhe thus befpake: XLIII.
Beldame, your words do work me little eafe;
For though my love be not fo lewdly bent,
As thofe ye blame, yet may it nought appeafe
My raging smart, ne ought my flame relent,
But rather doth my helpless grief augment.
For they, however fhameful and unkind,
Yet did poffefs their horrible intent :
Short end of forrows they thereby did find;
So was their fortune good, though wicked were their mind.
But wicked fortune mine, though mind be good,
Can have no end, nor hope of my defire,
But feed on fhadows, whiles I dye for food,
And like a fhadow wex, whiles with entire
Affection I do languish and expire.
I fonder than Cephifus foolish child,
Who having viewed in a fountain fhere
His face, was with the love thereof beguil'd;
I fonder love a fhade, the body far exil'd.
XLV.
Nought like, quoth fhe, for that fame wretched boy,
Was of himself the idle paramoure;
Both love and Lover, without hope of joy,
For which he faded to a watry flowre.
But better fortune thine, and better houre,
Which lov'ft the fhadow of a warlike Knight';
No fhadow, but a body hath in powre:
That body, wherefoever that it light,
May learned be by cyphers, or by magick might.
XLVI.
But if thou may with reason yet repress
The growing evil ere it strength have got,
And thee abandon'd wholly do poffefs,
Against it ftrongly ftrive, and yield thee not,
Till thou in open field adown be fmot.
But if the paffion maister thy frail might,
So that needs love or death must be thy lot,
Then I avow to thee by wrong or right
To compass thy defire, and find that loved Knight.
XLVII.
Her chearful words much chear'd the feeble spright
Of the fick virgin, that her down fhe layd
In her warm bed to fleep, if that the might;
And the old woman carefully difplayd
The clothes about her round with bufie ayd;
So that at laft a little creeping fleep
Surpriz'd her fenfe: She, therewith well apayd, The drunken lamp down in the oil did fteep, And fet her by to watch, and fet her by to weep.
XLVIII.
Early the morrow next, before that day
His joyous face did to the world reveal,
They both uprofe and took their ready way
Unto the church their prayers to appeal,
With great devotion, and with little zeal :
For the fair damzel from the holy herse
Her love-fick heart to other thoughts did steal,
And that old Dame faid many an idle verse,
Out of her daughters heart fond fancies to reverse.
XLIX.
Returned home, the royal infant fell
Into her former fit; for why, no powre
Nor guidance of her felf in her did dwell.
But th❜aged nurfe, her calling to her bowre,
Had gathered rue, and favine, and the flowre
Of camphara, and calamint, and dill,
All which the in an earthen pot did poure,
And to the brim with coltwood did it fill,
And many drops of milk and blood through it did spill,
L.
Then taking thrice three hairs from off her head,
Them trebbly braided in a threefold lace,
And round about the pots mouth, bound the thread,
And after having whispered a space
Certain fad words, with hollow voice and base,
She to the virgin faid, thrice said she it;
Come daughter come, come; fpit upon my face, Spit thrice upon me, thrice upon me fpit; Th'uneven number for this business is most fit.
That faid, her round about the from her turn'd,
She turned her contrary to the fun :
Thrice she her turn'd contrary, and return'd,
All contrary; for fhe the right did shun,
And ever what she did, was ftraight undone.
So thought the to undo her daughters love:
But Love, that is in gentle breaft begun,
No idle charms fo lightly may remove;
That well can witnefs, who by trial it does prove.
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