But two of them the rest far overpast,
Through an unwary dart, which did rebownd
And where their Lady was arrived at the last. From her faire eyes and gratious countenaunce.
What bootes it him from death to be unbownd,
To be captived in endlesse duraunce
Of sorrow and despeyre without aleggeaunce !
Where when they saw that goodly boy with
Defow'ed, and their Lady dresse his wownd.
They wondred much; and shortly understood Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole,
How him in deadly case theyr Lady fownd, So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd:
And reskew-d out of the heavy stownd.
Madnesse to save a part, and lose the whole
Eftsoones his war ike courser. which was strayd Still whenas he beheld the heavenly Mayd,
Farre in the woodes whiles that he lay in Whiles dayly playsters to his wownd she layd,
swownd,
[stayd, So still his Malady the more increast,
She made those Damzels search; which being The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dis
They did him set theron, and forth with them
convayd.
Ah God! what other could he do at least,
But love so fayre a Lady that his life releast?
'But if to love disloyalty it bee,
Shall I then hate ber that from deathes dore
What can I lesse doe then her love therefore,
Me brought? ah, farre be such reproch fro mee!
Sith I her dew reward cannot restore?
Dye rather, dye, and dying doe her serve;
Dying her serve, and living her adore,
Thy life she gave, thy life she doth deserve:
Dye rather, dye, then ever from her service
'But, foolish boy, what bootes thy service bace To her to whom the hevens doe serve and sew? Thou, a meane Squyre of meeke and lowly place; She, hevenly borne and of celestiall hew.
To your faire selves a faire ensample frame Of this faire virgin, this Belphebe fayre;
She, gracious Lady, yet no paines did spare To whom, in perfect love and spotlesse fame
To doe him ease, or doe him remedy.
Many Restoratives of vertues rare,
And costly Cordialles she did apply,
To mitigate his stubborne malady:
But that sweet Cordiall, which can restore
A love-sick hart, she did to him envy;
To him, and to all th' unworthy world forlore
She did envy that soveraine salve in secret
That daintie Rose, the daughter of her Morne, More deare then life she tendered, whose flowre The girlond of her honour did adorne: Ne suffred she the Middayes scorching powre, Ne the sharp Northerne wind thereon to showre; But lapped up her silken leaves most chayre, When so the froward skye began to lowre;
Of chastitie, none living may compayre:
Ne poysnous Envy justly can empayre
The prayse of her fresh flowring Maydenhead;
Forthy she standeth on the highest stayre
Of th' honorable stage of womanhead,
That Ladies all may follow her ensample dead.
In so great prayse of stedfast chastity Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde, Tempred with grace and goodly modesty, That seemed those two vertues strove to fynd The higher place in her Heroick mynd: So striving each did other more augment, And both encreast the prayse of woman kynde, And both encreast her beautie excellent: So all did make in her a perfect complement.
Great father he of generation
Is rightly cald, th' authour of life and light;
And his faire sister for creation
Their wofull harts he wounded had whyleare And so had left them languishing twixt hope and feare.
Ministreth matter fit, which, tempred right
With heate and humour, breedes the living And everie one did aske, did he him see?
She then the Cities sought from gate to gate,
So sprong these twinnes in womb of Chryso- He had him seene, and felt the crueltec
[gone; And everie one her answerd, that too late
Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore affright,
Wondred to see her belly so upblone,
Which still increast till she her terme had full
outgone.
Whereof conceiving shame and foule disgrace,
Albe her guiltlesse conscience her cleard,
She fled into the wildernesse a space,
Till that unweeldy burden she had reard,
And shund dishonor which as death she feard:
Where, wearie of long traveill, downe to rest
Her selfe she set, and comfortably cheard:
There a sad cloud of sleepe her overkest,
And seized every sence with sorrow
opprest.
It fortuned, faire Venus having lost
Her little sonne, the winged god of love,
Who, for some light displeasure which him
Was from her fled as flit as avery Dove,
And left her blisfull bowre of joy above:
(So from her often he had fled away,
When she for ought him sharpely did reprove,
And wandred in the world in straunge aray,
Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might
him bewray.)
Him for to seeke, she left her heavenly hous,
The house of goodly formes and faire aspect,
Whence all the world derives the glorious
Features of beautie, and all shapes select,
With which high God his workmanship hath
And searched everie way through which his
wings
Had borne him, or his tract she mote detect:
She promist kisses sweet, and sweeter things,
Unto the man that of him tydings to her
brings.
First she him sought in Court, where most he
us'd
Whylome to haunt, but there she found him
[not.
But many there she found which sore accus'd
His falshood, and with fowle infamous blot
His cruell deedes and wicked wyles did spot:
Ladies and Lordes she everywhere mote heare
Complayning, how with his empoysned shot
Of his sharpe dartes and whot artilleree :
Of his mischievous deedes, and sayd that hee
And every one threw forth reproches rife
Was the disturber of all civill life,
The enimy of peace, and authour of all strife.
But when in none of all these she him got,
She gan avize where els he mote him hyde:
At last she her bethought that she had not
In which full many lovely Nymphes abyde;
Yet sought the salvage woods and forests wyde,
Or that the love of some of them him tyde:
Mongst whom might be that he did closely lye,
Forthy she thither cast her course t' apply,
To search the secret haunts of Dianes company,
Shortly unto the wastefull woods she came,
Whereas she found the Goddesse with her crew,
After late chace of their embrewed game,
Some of them washing with the liquid dew
Sitting beside a fountaine in a rew;
From off their dainty limbs the dusty sweat
And soyle, which did deforme their lively hew;
Others lay shaded from the scorching heat,
The rest upon her person gave attendance great.
Now loose about her shoulders hong undight, As any Nimphe; (let not it be envide.') And were with sweet Ambrosia all besprinckled So saying, every Nimph full narrowly shee eide. light.
Soone as she Venus saw behinde her backe,
She was asham'd to be so loose surpriz'd;
And woxe halfe wroth against her damzels
That had not her thereof before aviz'd, [slacke,
But suffred her so carelesly disguiz'd
Be overtaken. Soone her garments loose
Upgath'ring, in her bosome she compriz'd
Well as she might, and to the Goddesse rose;
Whiles all her Nymphes did like a girlond her
enclose.
Goodly she gan faire Cytherea greet,
And shortly asked her, what cause her brought
Into that wildernesse for her unmeet,
From her sweete bowres, and beds with plea-
sures fraught?
Whom whenas Venus saw so sore displeasd,
Shee inly sory was, and gan relent
What shee had said; so her she soone appeasd [thought. With sugred words and gentle blandishinent, That suddein chaunge she straunge adventure Which as a fountaine from her sweete lips To whom halfe weeping she thus answered; That she her dearest sonne Cupido sought, Who in his frowardnes from her was fled, That she repented sore to have him angered.
And welled goodly forth, that in short space
She was well pleasd, and forth her damzelle
[place,
Through all the woods, to search from place to
If any tract of him or tidings they mote trace.
To search the God of love her Nimphes she
Throughout the wandring forest every where;
And after them her selfe eke with her went
To seeke the fugitive both farre and nere.
So long they sought, till they arrived were
In that same shady covert whereas lay
Faire Crysogone in slombry traunce whilere;
Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say)
Unwares had borne two babes, as faire as
springing day.
Unwares she them conceivd, unwares she
bore:
She bore withouten paine, that she conceiv'd`
Withouten pleasure; ne her need implore
Lucinaes aide: which when they both perceiv'd,
They were through wonder nigh of sence be-
rev'd,
And tell me, if that ye my sonne have heard And gazing each on other nought bespake. To lurke emongst your Nimphes in secret At last they both agreed her seeming griev'd
Or keepe their cabins: much I am affeard
Least he like one of them him selfe disguize,
And turne his arrowes to their exercize.
So may he long him selfe full easie hide;
For he is faire and fresh in face and guize
Out of her heavie swowne not to awake [take.
But from her loving side the tender babes to
Up they them tooke; each one a babe upAnd with them carried to be fostered. [tooke,
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