"On! what hath caus'd my killing miseries?" 115

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Eyes," Echo faid. “What has detain'd my case?" Eafe," straight the reasonable nymph replies ; "That nothing can my troubled mind appease." "Peace," Echo answers. "What, is any nigh?" Philetus faid; fhe quickly utters, 66 Ayc."


"Is't Echo anfwers? tell me then thy will:"
"I will," fhe faid. "What shall I get," fays he,
"By loving ftill?" to which the answers, " Ill."
"Ill? fhall I void of wish'd-for pleasure die?"


Aye." ." "Shall not I, who toil in ceafeless pain, 125 “Some pleasure know ?” “No,” she returns again' XXII.

"Falfe and inconstant Nymph! thou ly'st," said he, "Thou ly'ft," she said:" and I deferv'd her hate, "If I fhould thee believe." 66

Believe," faid fhe. "For why? thy words are of no weight."


"Weight," she answers. "Therefore I'll depart." To which refounding Echo anfwers, "Part."



Then from the woods with wounded heart he goes,
Filling with legions of fresh thoughts his mind:
He quarrels with himself, because his woes
Spring from himself, yet can no med'cine find:
He weeps to quench those fires that burn in him,
But tears do fall to th' earth, flames are within.


No morning banish'd darkness, nor black Night,
By her alternate course, expell'd the day
In which Philetus by a constant rite:

At Cupid's altars did not weep and pray ;
And yet he nothing reap'd for all his pain,
But care and forrow was his only gain.

But now, at last, the pitying god, o'ercome
By constant votes and tears, fix'd in her heart
A golden fhaft; and she is now become

A fuppliant to Love, that with like dart

He'd wound Philetus; does with tears implore



Aid from that pow'r she so much scorn'd before. 150 XXVI.

Little fhe thinks she kept Philetus' heart

In her fcorch'd breast, because her own she gave
To him. Since either fuffers equal smart,

And a like measure in their torments have,

His foul, his griefs, his fires, now her's are grown ; Her heart, her mind, her love, is his alone.



Whilft thoughts 'gainst thoughts rife up in mutiny,

She took a lute (being far from any ears)

And tun'd her fong, posing that harmony
Which poets attribute to heav'nly spheres.
Thus had she sung when her dear love was slain,
She'd furely call'd him back from Styx again.



Her hair was brighter than the beams which are
A crown to Phoebus, and her breath so sweet,

It did tranfcend Arabian odours får,


Or smelling flow'rs, wherewith the Spring does greet Approaching Summer; teeth like falling fnow

For white, were placed in a double row.


Her wit excelling praise, ev'n all admire;
Her fpeech was fo attractive, it might be

A cause to raise the mighty Pallas' ire,
And ftir up envy from that deity.

The maiden-lilies at her fight


Wax'd pale with envy,and from thence grew white. 30


She was in birth and parentage as high,

As in her fortune great or beauty rare,
And to her virtuous mind's nobility
The gifts of Fate and Nature doubled were;
That in her spotlefs foul and lovely face
You might have seen each deity and grace.


A fcornful boy, Adonis, viewing her,
Would Venus ftill defpife, yet her defire;
Each who but faw was a competitor
And rival, fcorch'd alike with Cupid's fire.



The glorious beams of her fair eyes did move heir way to love.


Among her many fuitors a young knight,
'Bove others wounded with the majesty
Of her fair presence, presseth most in sight;
Yet feldom his defire can fatisfy

With that blefs'd object, or her rareness see;
For Beauty's guard is watchful Jealousy.

Oft-times, that he might fee his dearest fair,
Upon his stately jennet he in th' way
Rides by her house, who neighs, as if he were
Proud to be view'd by bright Constantia:
But his poor master, tho' he see her move
His joy, dares fhew no look betraying love.


Soon as the Morning left her rofy bed,


55 And all heav'n's smaller lights were driv'n away, She, by her friends and near acquaintance led, Like other maids, would walk at break of day: Aurora blush'd to see a sight unknown,

To behold cheeks more beauteous than her own. 60

Th' obfequious lover follows ftill her train,
And where they go that way his journey feigns:
Should they turn back, he would turn back again,
For with his love his business still remains.
Nor is it strange he fhould be loath to part
From her, whofe eyes had stole away his heart.



Philetus he was call'd, sprung from a race
Of noble ancestors; but greedy Time
And envious Fate had labour'd to deface
The glory which in his great stock did shine:
Small his eftate, unfitting her degree;

But blinded Love could no fuch diff'rence fee.


Yet he by chance had hit this heart aright,
And dipp'd his arrow in Conftantia's eyes,
Blowing a fire that would destroy him quite,
Unless fuch flames within her heart should rife:
But yet he fears, because he blinded is,
Tho' he have shot him right her heart he'll miss.

Unto Love's altar therefore he repairs,

And offers up a pleasing sacrifice,

Entreating Cupid, with inducing pray’rs,
To look upon and ease his miseries;

Where having pray'd, recovʼring breath again,
Thus to immortal Love he did complain:


"Oh! mighty Cupid! whose unbounded sway "Hath often rul'd th' Olympian Thunderer, "Whom all celeftial deities obey,





"Whom men and gods both reverence and fear! "Oh! force Conftantia's heart to yield to love; "Of all thy works the masterpiece 'twill prove. 90

« ElőzőTovább »