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The longing words of lovers are not many Of hammering blacksmiths, at the lofty hill
Of stately Ætna, whose top burneth still;
For at that mountaine's glittering top
To him she went, and so collogues that night
If love would make the mortall maid a star, Whose pleasant water did so gently slide,
Himselfe should frame his instruments of war: With such soft whispering, for the brooke was deep, He took his oath by black Cocytus lake That it had lull'd him in a heavenly sleep.
He never more a thunderbolt would make; When first he laid him down there was none neere For Venus so this night his senses pleas'd, him,
That now he thought bis former griefes were eas'd, (Por he did call before, but none could heare him,) | She with her hands the blacksmith's body bound, But a faire nymph was bathing when he wak’d, And with her ivory armes she twin'd him round, (Here sight great love, and after brought forth) And still the faire queen with a pretty grace nak'd :
Dispers'd her sweet breath o're his swarthy face; He seeing lov'd the nymph, yet here did rest Her snowy armes so well she did display, Where just Astræa might make love be blest, That Vulcan thought they melted as they lay, If she would passe her faithfull word so far Untill the morn in this delight they lay, As that great love should make the maid a star; Then up they got and basted fast away Astræa yeelded, at which love was pleas'd, In the white charriot of the queen of love, And all his longing hopes and feares were easid, Towards the pallace of great thundring love : love took his leave and parted from her sight, Where they did see divine Astræa stand Whose thoughts were full of lovers' sweet delight; To passe ber word for what love should command; And she ascended to the throne above,
In limp'd the blacksmith, after stept his queen, To heare the griefes of the great queen of love: Whose light arraiment was of lovely green: But she was satisfied and would no more
When they were in, Vulcan began to sweare, Raile at her husband as she did before;
By oaths that Jupiter bimselfe doth feare, But forth she tript apace, because she strove If any whore in Heaven's bright vault were seen, With her swift feet to overtake great love; To dim the shining of bis beauteous queen,
She skipt sa niinbly as she went to look him, Each mortall man should the great god disgrace, ^ That at the pallace doore she overtook him; And mock almighty Jove unto his face:
The way was plaine and broad as they went out, And giants should enforce bright Heaven to fall And now they could see no tumultuous rout. Ere he would frame one thunder-bolt at all; Here Venus fearing lest the love of love
Jove did intreat him that he would forbeare, Should make this maid be plac'd in Heaven above; The more he spake the more did Vulcan sweare. Because she thought this nymph so wondrous bright Jove heard the words and 'gan to make his moane, That she would dazell her accustom'd light, That mortall men would pluck him from his throne, And fearing now she should not first be seen Or else he must incur this plague he said, Of all the glittering stars as she had been; Quite to foryo the pleasure of the maid; But that the wanton nymph would every night And once he thought rather than lose those blisses, Be first that should salute each mortall sight, Her heavenly sweets, her most delicious kisses, Began to tell great love she griev'd to see Her soft embraces, and the amorous nights, The Heaven so full of his iniquity:
That he should often spend in her delights, Complaining that each strumpet now was grac'd, He would be quite thrown down by mortall hapde And witb immortall goddesses was plac'd,
From the blest place where his bright pallace standas Intreating him to place in Heaven no more But afterwards he saw with better sight, Each wanton strumpet, and lascivious whore. He should be sporn'd by every mortall wight, Jove, mad with love, minded not what she said, he should want his thunderbolts to beat His thoughts were so intangled with the maid: Aspiring mortals from his glittering seat; But furiously he to his pallace lept,
Therefore the god no more did wee or more her, Being minded there till morning to have slept. But left to seeke her love, though not to love her: For the next morne so soone as Phæbus' raies Yet he forgot not that he woo'd the lasse, Should yet shine coole by reason of the seas, But made her twice as beautious as she was, And e're the parting teares of Thetis bed
Because his wonted love he needs would shew. Should be quite shak'd from off his glittering head, This have I heard, but yet not thought it true Astræa promis'd to attend great loye
And whether her cleare beauty was so bright, At his own pallace in the Heavens above,
That it could dazzle the immortall sight And at that pallace she would set ber hand Of gods, and make them for her love despaire, To what the love-sick god should hes command: I do not know, but sure the maid was faire: But to descend to Earth she did deny,
Yet the faire nymph was never seen resort She loath'd the sight of any mortall eye,
Unto the savage and the bloudy sport
Of chaste Diana, nor was ever wont
It is reported that her fellows us’d,.
Asking her why she strugled to be gone, To bid her (thongh the beautious nymph refus'd) Why such a nymph should wish to live alone; To take a painted quiver, or a dart,
Heavon never made her faire that she should vaunt And put her lazie idlenesse apart.
She kept all beauty, yet would never grant But she would none; but in the fountaines swims, She should be borne so beautious from her mother, Where oft she washeth o're her snowy limbs; But to reflect her beauty on another: Sometimes she comb'd her soft dishevell'd haire, " Then with a sweet kisse cast thy beames on me, Which with a fillet ty'd she oft did weare; And I'le reflect them back again on thee. But sometimes loose she let it hang behind, At Naxos stands my temple and my shrine, When sbe was pleas'd to grace the easterne wind, Where I do presse the lusty swelling vine ; For up and down it would her tresses hurle, There with green ivy shall thy head be bound, And as she went it made her loose haire curle: And with the red grape be incircled round; Oft in the water did she see her face,
There shall Silenus sing unto thy praise And oft she us'd to practice what quaint grace His drunken reeling songs and tipling laies. Might well become her, and what comly feature Come hither, gentle nymph:” here blusht the maid, Might be best fitting so divjue a creature.
And faine she would have gone, but yet she staid. Her skin was with a thin vaile over-thrown, Bacchus perceiv'd he had o'recome the lasse, Through which her naked beauty clearly shone; And down he throws her in the dewy grasse She us'd in this light raiment as she was
And kist the helplesse nymph upon the ground, To spread her body on the dewy grasse :
And would have strai'd beyond that lawfull bounds Sometimes by her own fountaines as she walks This saw bright Phæbus, for his glittering eye She nipt the flowers from off the fertile stalks, Sees all that lies below the starry sky: And with a garland of the sweating vine
And for an old affection that he bore Sometimes she doth her beautious front entwine; Unto this lovely nymph long time before, But she was gathering fiow'rs with her white hand, (For he would oft times in his circle stand, When she beheld Hermaphroditus stand
And sport himselfe upon her snowy hand:) By her cleare fountaine wondring at the sight, He kept her from the sweets of Bacchus' bed, That there was any brooke could be so bright, And 'gainst her will he sav'd her maiden-bead. For this was the bright river where the boy Bacchus perceiving this, apace did hie Did dye himselfe, that he could not enjoy Unto the pallace of swift Mercury, Himselfe in pleasure, nor could taste the blisses But he did find him far below his birth, Of his own melting and delicious kisses.
Drinking with theeves and catchpoles on the Earth, Here did she see him, and by Venus' law
And they were parting what they stole to day, She did desire to have bim as she saw :
In consultation for to morrow's prey;
How he bereft him of his heavenly blisses, Betwixt great Phoebus and the son of Jove, His sweet delight, his nectar-flowing kisses, (Light-beaded Bacchus) for upon a day
And other sweeter sweets, that he had won As the boy-god was keeping on his way,
But for the malice of the bright fac'd Sun; Bearing his vine-leaves and ivy bands
Intreating Mercury by all the love To Naxos, where his bouse and temple stands, That had him born amongst the sons of Jove, He saw the nymph, and seeing he did stay, (of which they two were part) to stand his friend And threw his leaves and ivy bands away.
Against the god that did him so offend; Thinking at first she was of heavenly birth, The quaint tongu'd issue of great Atlas' race, Some goddesse that did live upon the Earth; Swift Mercurie, that with delightfull grace, Virgin Diana that so lovely shone
And pleasing accents of his feigned tongue, When she did court her swect Endimion ;
Hath oft reform'd a rude uncivill throng But he a god, at last did plainly see
Of mortals, that great messenger of love,
And all the meaner gods that dwell above,
To steale from heavenly gods, or earthly wights,
Which the great god perceiving streight did show Far livelier than the stoln Promethean fire; The piercing arrows, and the fearefull bow [him, Then might I live, then by the sunny light That kill'd great Pithon, and with that dia threat That should proceed from thy chiefe radiaat sight To bring his beasts againe, or he would beat him; I might survive to ages, but that missing," Which Mercury perceiving, unespi’d, (At that same word he would have fain boen kissing) Did closely steale bis arrows from his side; « I pine (fair nymph.) O never let me dye For this old grudge he was the easier won for one poore glance from thy translucent eye, To help young Bacchus 'gainst the fiery Sun: Far more transparent than the clearest brooke:” And now the Sun was in the iniddle way, The nymph was taken with his golden book, And bad o'ercome the one halfe of the day;., Yet she turn'd back and would have tript away, Scorching so hot upon the reeking sand But Baccbus forc'd the lovely maid to stay, That lies upon the mcere Ægyptian land,
That the hot people burnt eren from their birth, He spent the darksoune houres in this delight,
Giving his power up to the gladsome night;
To take an boure, or one poore minute's rest.
Now all the night the smith so hard had wrought, With out-stretcht wings up to the azur skies, That ere the Sun could wake his wheels were brought; Where seeing Phoebus in bis orient shrine,
Titan being pleas'd with rest and not to rise,
And loath to open yet his slumbring eyes;
To give a glimpsing to each mortall eye.
Finding no place to hide her shamefull head To sée how cleare her radiant beauty was:
Painted her chaste cheeks with a blushing red; And (for be had but little time to stay,
Which ever since remain'd upon her face
In token of her new receiv'd disgrace:
No sooner can the rosie fingred morne
He made Æous and swift Æthon skip Therefore at bis request she did obtaine,
So fast, that straight he dazled had the sight
Unto faire Salmacis the beautious lasse:
Saw from bis bright seat in the starry skie;
Till she had bound up her loose Aagging haire, That he was quickly at the westerne sea.
And well order'd the garments she did weare, And there with Thetis did be rest a space,
l'aigning her count'nance with a lorer's care, For he did never rest in any place
And did deserve to be accounted faire; Before that time; but ever since his wheels When thus much spake she while the toy abode, Were stoly away, his buruinig chariot recles “O boy! more worthy to be thought a god, Towards the declining of the parting day,
Thou maiest inhabit in the glorious place
That lately woo'd me with the swelling vine:
Blessed thy sisters, if her wombe bare any;
Both fortunate, V and thrice happy she, Cooling his watry tresses as he lay,
Whose too much blessed brest gave suck to thee: And in dread Neptune's kingdome while he sleeps If apie's wish with thy sweet bed be blest, Faire Thetis clips him in the watry deeps;
O she is far more happy than the rest! There' Mair-maids and the Tritons of the west, If thou hast any, let her name be known, Straining their voices to make Titan rest :
Or else let me be she, if thou hast none. The while the black night with her pithy hand Here did she pause a while, and then she said, Took just possession of the swarthy land,
“ Be not obdurate to a silly maid ;
A flinty heart within a snowy breast
Then would I beg a touch, and then a kisse, Is like base mold lock'd in a golden chest.
And then a lower, yet a higher blisse; They say the eye's the index of the heart,
Then would I aske what Jove and Leda did, And shews th' affection of each inward part: When like a swan the crafty god was hid; Then love plaies lively there, the little god What came he for> 'why did he there abide? Hath a cleare cristall pallace of abode;
Surely I think he did not come to chide; O bar him not from playing in thy heart,
He came to see her face, to talke, and chat, That sports himselfe upon each outward part." To touch, to kisse, came he for nought but that? Thus much she spake, and then her tongue was husht; Yes something else, what was it he would have? At her loose speeches Hermaphroditus blusht ; That which all men of maidens ought to crave." He knew not what love was, yet love did shame him, This said, her eye-lids wide she did display, Making him blush, and yet his blush became him. But in this space the boy was run away: Then might a man his lively colour see,
The wanton speeches of the lovely lasse Like the ripe apple on a sunny tree,
Forc'd him for shame to hide him in the grasse ; Or ivory dy'd o're with a pleasing red,
When she perceiv'd she could not see him neere her, Or like the pale morne being shadowed.
When she had call'd, and yet he would not heare her, By this the nymph recovered had her tongue, Look how when Autumne comes, a little space That to her thinking lay in silence long,
Paleth the red blush of the Summer's face, And said, “ Thy cheek is mild, O be thou so, Tearing the leaves, the Summer's covering, Thy checke saith 1, then do not answer no; (said, Three montlis in weaving by the curious Spring. Thy check doth shame, then do thou shame”, she Making the grasse his green locks go to wrack, " It is a man's shame to deny a maid:
Tearing each ornament from off his back; Thou look'st to sport with Venus in her tower, So did she spoile the garments she did weare, And be belov'd of every heavenly power;
Tearing whole ounces of her golden haire; Men are but mortals, so are women too,
She thus deluded of her longed blisse, Why should your thoughts aspire more than ours do: With much adoe at last she uttred this: For sure they do aspire ; else could a youth, “ Why wert so bashfull boy? Thou hast no part Whose countenance is full of spotlesse truth, Shewes thee to be of such a female heart: Be so relentlesse to a virgin's tongue?
His eye is grey, so is the morning's eye, Let me be woo'd by thee but halfe so long; That blusbeth alwaies when the day is nigh. With halfe those termes, do but my love require, Then is grey eyes the cause ? that cannot be, And I will eas'ly grant thee thy desire;
The grey ey'd morn is far more bolj than he, Ages are bad when men become so slow,
For with a gentle dew from Heaven's bright tower, That poore unskilfull maids are forc'd to wooe.” It gets the maidenhead of every flower : Her radiant beauty, and her subtill art,
I would to God he were the rosiat morn, So deeply struck Hermaphroditus' heart,
And I a flower from out the earth new born. That she had won his love, but that the light His face was smooth, Narcissus face was so, Of her translucent eye did shine too bright,
And he was carelesse of a sad nymph's woe. For long he look'd upon the lovely maid,
Then that's the cause, and yet that cannot be, And at the last Hermaphroditus said,
Youthfull Narcissus was more bold than he; “ How should I love thee, when I do espie Because he dy'd for love, though of his shade, A far more beautious nymph hid in thy eye; [thee, This boy nor loves himselfe, nor yet a maid: When thou dost love let not that nymph be nigh Besides, his glorious eye is wondrous bright, Nor when thou woo'st let that same nymph be by So is the fiery and all-seeing light Or quite obscure her from thy lover's face, (thee: Of Phæbns, who at every morning's birth Or hide her beauty in a darker place;"
Blusheth for shame upon the sullen earth; By this the nymph perceiv'd he did espy
Then that's the cause, and yet that cannot be, None but himselfe reflected in her eye.
The fiery Sun is far more bold than he;
Whose ruddy cheek with over-blushing gluwes;
Beg'd that which he, poore novice, understood not. Beleeve me boy, thy bloud is very staid,
Anil (for she could not get a greater blisse)
Whiter than mountain snow hath ever been,
And did in purenesse that cleare spring surpasse, Thy roseat cheeks a little to behuld;'
Wherein Acteon saw th’Arcadian iasse,
Thus did she dally long, till at the last
When young Hermaphroditus, as he stands In her white palm she lockt bis white band fast; Clapping bis white side with his bollow hands, Then in her hands his wrist she'gan to close, Leapt lively from the land whereon he stood When though his pulses straight his warme bloud Into the maine part of the christall floud; Whose youthfull music fanning Cupid's fire, [glows, Like ivory then his showy body was, In her warme brest kindled a fresh desire;
Or a white lilly in a christall glasse; Then did she lift her hand unto his brest,
Then rose the water-nymph from where she lay. A part as white and youthfull as the rest,
As having won the glory of the day, Where as his flowry breath still comes and goes, And her light garments cast from off her skin, She felt his gentle heart pant through his cloaths; " He's mine," she cry'd, and so leapt sprightly in ; At last she took her hand from off that part, The Natt'ring ivy who did ever see And said it panted like another heart;
Inclasp'd the huge trunke of an aged tree, “ Why should it be more feeble, and lesse bold? Let bim behold the young boy as he stands Why should the bloud about it be more cold? Inclaspt in wanton Salmacis' pure hands; Nay sure that yields, only thy tongue denies, Betwixt those ivory armes she lockt him fast, And the true fancy of thy heart belies."
Striving to get away, till at the last, Then did she lift her band unto his chin,
Fondling she said, “Why striv'st thou to be gone And prais'd the pretty dimpling of his skin. Why shouldst thou so desire to be alone ? But straight his cbin she 'gan to overslip,
Thy cheeke is never faire when none is by, When she bebeld the rednesse of his lip;
For what is red and white but to the eye ? And said, “ Thy lips are soft, presse them to mine. And for that cause the Heavens are dark at night, And thou shalt see they are as soft as thine.” Because all creatures close their weary sight : Then would she faine have gone unto his eye, For there's no mortall can so early rise, But still his ruddy lip, standing so nigh,
But still the morning waits upon his eyes; Drew her hand back, therefore his eye she mist, The early rising and soon singing lark 'Ginning to claspe his neck, and would have kist : Can never chant her sweet notes in the dark; But then the boy did struggle to be gone,
For sleep she ne'r so little or so long, Vowing to leave her in that place alone;
Yet still the morning will attend her song.
All creatures that beneath bright Cinthia be
The overflowing waves would have a bound
Within the confines of the spacious ground, But from his sight she had no power to passe,
And all their shady currents would be plaed Therefore she tum'd, and hid ber in the grasse ; In hollow of the solitary vaste: When to the ground bending her sı.ow-white knee, But that they loath to let their soft streams sing The glad earth gare new coats to every tree. Where none can heare their gentle murmuring." He then, supposing he was all alone,
Yet still the boy, regardlesse what she said, Like a young boy that is espy'd of none,
Strugled apace to overswim the maid; Runs here and there, then on the banks doth look, Which when the nymph perceiv'd, she 'gan to say, Then on the christall current of the brouk,
Struggle thou maiest, but never get away; Then with his feet be toucht the silver streames, So graut, just gods, that never day may see Whose drowzie waves made music in their The separation 'twixt this boy and me." dreames,
The gouls did heare her prayer, and feele her woe, And, for he was not wholly in, did weep,
And in one body they began to grow : Talking aloud, and babling in their sleep,
She felt his youthfull bloud in every veine, Whose pleasant coolenesse when the boy did feele, And he felt hers warm bis cold breast againe; He thrust his foot down lower to the heele,
And ever since was woman's love so blest, O’recome with whose sweet noise, he did begin That it will draw bloud from the strongest breast. To strip his soft cloaths froin bis lender skin, Nor man, nor maid, now could they be e-teemid, When streight the scorching Sun wept teares of Neither and either might they well be deem'd; brine,
When the young boy Hermaphroditus said, (Because he durst not touch bim with his shine) With the set voice of neither man nor maid, For feare of spoiling that same ivory skin,
“ Swift Mercury, thou author of my life, Whose whitenesse he so much delighted in; And thou, my mother, Vulcan's lovely wife, And then the Moon, mother of mortall easte, Let your poore off-spring's latest breath be blest Would faine have come from the Antipodes, In but obtaining this bis last request : To have beheld him naked as he stood
Grant that whoe're, heated by Phæbus' beams, Ready to leap into the silver floud,
Shall come to coole him in these silver streams, But might not, for the laws of leaven deny May never more a manly shape retaine, To shew men's secrets to a woman's
But balfe a virgin may returne againe." And therefore was her sad and gloomy light His parents hark’ned to his last request, -Confin'd unto the secret keeping night.
And with that great power they the fountaine blest; When beautious Salmacis a while had gaz'd And since that time who in that fountaine swims Upon his naked corps, she stood amaz'd,
A maiden smoothness se, eth halfe his limbs. And both her sparkling eyes burnt in her face Like the bright sun reflected in a glasse;
THE REMEDIE OF LOVE. Scarce can she stay from running to the boy, Scarce can she now defer her hoped joy: So fast her youthfull bloud plaies in her veines, Waex Cup'd read this title, straight he said, That, almost mad, she soarce her selfe containes;
Vars, I perceive, against me will be made :*