Chapter V: Book VII: Two Cantos of Mvtabilitie 454 (5)

But by no meanes my way I would forslow, xv
For ought that euer she could doe or say,
But from my lofty steede dismounting low,
Past forth on foote, beholding all the way
The goodly workes, and stones of rich assay,
Cast into sundry shapes by wondrous skill,
That like on earth no where I recken may:
And vnderneath, the riuer rolling still
With murmure soft, that seem’d to serue the workmans will.

Thence forth I passed to the second gate, xvi
The _Gate of good desert_, whose goodly pride
And costly frame, were long here to relate.
The same to all stoode alwaies open wide:
But in the Porch did euermore abide
An hideous Giant, dreadfull to behold,
That stopt the entraunce with his spacious stride,
And with the terrour of his countenance bold
Full many did affray, that else faine enter would.

His name was _Daunger_ dreaded ouer all, xvii
Who day and night did watch and duely ward,
From fearefull cowards, entrance to forstall,
And faint-heart-fooles, whom shew of perill hard
Could terrifie from Fortunes faire adward[175]:
For oftentimes faint hearts at first espiall
Of his grim face, were from approaching scard;
Vnworthy they of grace, whom one deniall
Excludes from fairest hope, withouten further triall.

Yet many doughty warriours, often tride xviii
In greater perils to be stout and bold,
Durst not the sternnesse of his looke abide,
But soone as they his countenance did behold,
Began to faint, and feele their corage cold.
Againe some other, that in hard assaies
Were cowards knowne, and litle count did hold,
Either through gifts, or guile, or such like waies,
Crept in by stouping low, or stealing of the kaies.

But I though meanest[176] man of many moe, xix
Yet much disdaining[177] vnto him to lout,
Or creepe betweene his legs, so in to goe,
Resolu’d him to assault with manhood stout,
And either beat him in, or driue him out.
Eftsoones aduauncing that enchaunted shield,
With all my might I gan to lay about:
Which when he saw, the glaiue which he did wield
He gan forthwith t’auale, and way vnto me yield.

So as I entred, I did backeward looke, xx
For feare of harme, that might lie hidden there;
And loe his hindparts, whereof heed I tooke,
Much more deformed fearefull vgly were,
Then all his former parts did earst appere.
For hatred, murther, treason, and despight,
With many moe lay in ambushment there,
Awayting to entrap the warelesse wight,
Which did not them preuent with vigilant foresight.

Thus hauing past all perill, I was come xxi
Within the compasse of that Islands space;
The which did seeme vnto my simple doome,
The onely pleasant and delightfull place,
That euer troden was of footings trace.
For all that nature by her mother wit
Could frame in earth, and forme of substance base,
Was there, and all that nature did omit,
Art playing second natures part, supplyed it.

No tree, that is of count, in greenewood growes, xxii
From lowest Iuniper to Ceder tall,
No flowre in field, that daintie odour throwes,
And deckes his branch with blossomes ouer all,
But there was planted, or grew naturall:
Nor sense of man so coy and curious nice,
But there mote find to please it selfe withall;
Nor hart could wish for any queint deuice,
But there it present was, and did fraile sense entice.

In such luxurious plentie of all pleasure, xxiii
It seem’d a second paradise to ghesse[178],
So lauishly enricht with natures threasure,
That if the happie soules, which doe possesse
Th’Elysian fields, and liue in lasting blesse,
Should happen this with liuing eye to see,
They soone would loath their lesser happinesse,
And wish to life return’d againe to bee[179],
That in this ioyous place they mote haue ioyance free.

Fresh shadowes, fit to shroud from sunny ray; xxiv
Faire lawnds, to take the sunne in season dew;
Sweet springs, in which a thousand Nymphs did play;
Soft rombling brookes, that gentle slomber drew;
High reared mounts, the lands about to vew;
Low looking dales, disloignd from common gaze;
Delightfull bowres, to solace louers trew;
False Labyrinthes, fond runners eyes to daze;
All which by nature made did nature selfe amaze.

And all without were walkes and alleyes[180] dight[181] xxv
With diuers trees, enrang’d in euen rankes;
And here and there were pleasant arbors pight,
And shadie seates, and sundry flowring bankes,
To sit and rest the walkers wearie shankes,
And therein thousand payres of louers walkt,
Praysing their god, and yeelding him great thankes,
Ne euer ought but of their true loues talkt,
Ne euer for rebuke or blame of any balkt.

All these together by themselues did sport xxvi
Their spotlesse pleasures, and sweet loues content.
But farre away from these, another sort
Of louers lincked in true harts consent;
Which loued not as these, for like intent,
But on chast vertue grounded their desire,
Farre from all fraud, or fayned blandishment;
Which in their spirits kindling zealous fire,
Braue thoughts and noble deedes did euermore aspire[182].

Such were great _Hercules_, and _Hylas_[183] deare; xxvii
Trew _Ionathan_, and _Dauid_ trustie tryde;
Stout _Theseus_, and _Pirithous_ his feare;
_Pylades_ and _Orestes_ by his syde;
Myld _Titus_ and _Gesippus_ without pryde;
_Damon_ and _Pythias_ whom death could not seuer:
All these and all that euer had bene tyde[184]
In bands of friendship,[185] there did liue for euer,
Whose liues although decay’d, yet loues decayed neuer.

Which when as I, that neuer tasted blis, xxviii
Nor happie howre, beheld with gazefull eye,
I thought there was none other heauen then this;
And gan their endlesse happinesse enuye,
That being free from feare and gealosye,
Might frankely there their loues desire possesse;
Whilest I through paines and perlous ieopardie,
Was forst to seeke my lifes deare patronesse:
Much dearer be the things, which come through hard distresse.

Yet all those sights, and all that else I saw, xxix
Might not my steps withhold, but that forthright
Vnto that purposd place I did me draw,
Where as my loue was lodged day and night:
The temple of great _Venus_, that is hight
The Queene of beautie, and of loue the mother,
There worshipped of euery liuing wight;
Whose goodly workmanship farre past all other
That euer were on earth, all were they set together.

Not that same famous Temple of _Diane_, xxx
Whose hight all _Ephesus_ did ouersee,
And which all _Asia_ sought with vowes prophane,
One of the worlds seuen wonders sayd to bee,
Might match with this by many a degree:
Nor that, which that wise King of _Iurie_ framed,
With endlesse cost, to be th’Almighties see;
Nor all that else through all the world is named
To all the heathen Gods, might like to this be clamed.

I much admyring that so goodly frame, xxxi
Vnto the porch approcht, which open stood;
But therein sate an amiable Dame,
That seem’d to be of very sober mood,
And in her semblant shewed great womanhood:
Strange was her tyre; for on her head a crowne
She wore much like vnto a Danisk hood,
Poudred with pearle and stone, and all her gowne
Enwouen was with gold, that raught full low a downe[186].

On either side of her, two young men stood, xxxii
Both strongly arm’d, as fearing one another;
Yet were they brethren both of halfe the blood,
Begotten by two fathers of one mother,
Though of contrarie natures each to other:
The one of them hight _Loue_, the other _Hate_,
_Hate_ was the elder, _Loue_ the younger brother;
Yet was the younger stronger in his state
Then th’elder, and him maystred still in all debate.

Nathlesse that Dame so well them tempred both, xxxiii
That she them forced hand to ioyne in hand,
Albe that _Hatred_ was thereto full loth,
And turn’d his face away, as he did stand,
Vnwilling to behold that louely band.
Yet she was of such grace and vertuous might,
That her commaundment he could not withstand,
But bit his lip for felonous despight,
And gnasht his yron tuskes at that displeasing sight.

_Concord_ she cleeped was in common reed, xxxiv
Mother of blessed _Peace_, and _Friendship_ trew;
They both her twins, both borne of heauenly seed,
And she her selfe likewise diuinely grew;
The which right well her workes diuine did shew:
For strength, and wealth, and happinesse she lends,
And strife, and warre, and anger does subdew:
Of litle much, of foes she maketh frends,
And to afflicted minds sweet rest and quiet sends.

By her the heauen is in his course contained, xxxv
And all the world in state vnmoued stands,
As their Almightie maker first ordained,
And bound them with inuiolable bands;
Else would the waters ouerflow the lands,
And fire deuoure the ayre, and hell[187] them quight,
But that she holds them with her blessed hands.
She is the nourse of pleasure and delight,
And vnto _Venus_ grace the gate doth open right.

By her I entring halfe dismayed was, xxxvi
But she in gentle wise me entertayned,
And twixt her selfe and _Loue_[188] did let me pas;
But _Hatred_ would my entrance haue restrayned,
And with his club me threatned to haue brayned,
Had not the Ladie with her powrefull speach
Him from his wicked will vneath refrayned;
And th’other eke his malice did empeach,
Till I was throughly past the perill of his reach.

Into the inmost Temple thus I came, xxxvii
Which fuming all with frankensence I found,
And odours rising from the altars flame.
Vpon an hundred marble pillors round
The roofe vp high was reared from the ground,
All deckt with crownes, and chaynes, and girlands gay,
And thousand pretious gifts worth many a pound,
The which sad louers for their vowes did pay;
And all the ground was strow’d with flowres, as fresh as May[189].

An hundred Altars round about were set, xxxviii
All flaming with their sacrifices fire,
That with the steme thereof the Temple swet,
Which rould in clouds to heauen did aspire,
And in them bore true louers vowes entire:
And eke an hundred brasen caudrons bright,
To bath[190] in ioy and amorous desire,
Euery of which was to a damzell hight;
For all the Priests were damzels, in soft linnen dight.

Right in the midst the Goddesse selfe did stand xxxix
Vpon an altar of some costly masse,
Whose substance was vneath to vnderstand:
For neither pretious stone, nor durefull brasse,
Nor shining gold, nor mouldring clay it was;
But much more rare and pretious to esteeme,
Pure in aspect, and like to christall glasse,
Yet glasse was not, if one did rightly deeme,
But being faire and brickle, likest glasse did seeme.

But it in shape and beautie did excell xl
All other Idoles, which the heathen adore,
Farre passing that, which by surpassing skill
_Phidias_ did make in _Paphos_ Isle of yore,
With which that wretched Greeke, that life forlore,[191]
Did fall in loue: yet this much fairer shined,
But couered with a slender veile afore;
And both her feete and legs together twyned
Were with a snake, whose head and tail were fast combyned.

The cause why she was couered with a vele, xli
Was hard to know, for that her Priests the same
From peoples knowledge labour’d to concele.
But sooth it was not sure for womanish shame,
Nor any blemish, which the worke mote blame;
But for, they say, she hath both kinds in one,
Both male and female, both vnder one name:
She syre and mother is her selfe alone,
Begets and eke conceiues, ne needeth other none.

And all about her necke and shoulders flew xlii
A flocke of litle loues, and sports, and ioyes,
With nimble wings of gold and purple hew;
Whose shapes seem’d not like to terrestriall boyes,
But like to Angels playing heauenly toyes;
The whilest their eldest[192] brother was away,
_Cupid_ their eldest brother; he enioyes
The wide kingdome of loue with Lordly sway,
And to his law compels all creatures to obay.

And all about her altar scattered lay xliii
Great sorts of louers piteously complayning,
Some of their losse, some of their loues delay,
Some of their pride, some paragons disdayning,
Some fearing fraud, some fraudulently fayning,
As euery one had cause of good or ill.
Amongst the rest some one through loues constrayning,
Tormented sore, could not containe it still,
But thus brake forth, that all the temple it did fill.

Great _Venus_, Queene of beautie and of grace, xliv
The ioy of Gods and men, that vnder skie
Doest fayrest shine, and most adorne thy place,
That with thy smyling looke doest pacifie
The raging seas, and makst the stormes to flie;
Thee goddesse, thee the winds, the clouds doe feare,
And when thou spredst thy mantle forth on hie,
The waters play and pleasant lands appeare,
And heauens laugh, and al the world shews ioyous cheare.

Then doth the dædale earth throw forth to thee xlv
Out of her fruitfull lap aboundant flowres,
And then all liuing wights, soone as they see
The spring breake forth out of his lusty bowres,
They all doe learne to play the Paramours;
First doe the merry birds, thy prety pages
Priuily pricked with thy lustfull powres,
Chirpe loud to thee out of their leauy cages,
And thee their mother call to coole their kindly rages.

Then doe the saluage beasts begin to play xlvi
Their pleasant friskes, and loath their wonted food;
The Lyons rore, the Tygres loudly bray,
The raging Buls rebellow through the wood,
And breaking forth, dare tempt the deepest flood,
To come where thou doest draw them with desire:
So all things else, that nourish vitall blood,
Soone as with fury thou doest them inspire,
In generation seeke to quench their inward fire.

So all the world by thee at first was made, xlvii
And dayly yet thou doest the same repayre:
Ne ought on earth that merry is and glad,
Ne ought on earth that louely is and fayre,
But thou the same for pleasure didst prepayre.
Thou art the root of all that ioyous is,
Great God of men and women, queene of th’ayre,
Mother of laughter, and welspring of blisse,
O graunt that of my loue at last I may not misse.

So did he say: but I with murmure soft, xlviii
That none might heare the sorrow of my hart,
Yet inly groning deepe and sighing oft,
Besought her to graunt ease vnto my smart,
And to my wound her gratious help impart.
Whilest thus I spake, behold with happy eye
I spyde, where at the Idoles feet apart
A beuie of fayre damzels close did lye,
Wayting when as the Antheme should be sung on hye.

The first of them did seeme of ryper yeares, xlix
And grauer countenance then all the rest;
Yet all the rest were eke her equall peares,
Yet vnto her obayed all the best.
Her name was _Womanhood_, that she exprest
By her sad semblant and demeanure wyse:
For stedfast still her eyes did fixed rest,
Ne rov’d at randon after gazers guyse,
Whose luring baytes oftimes doe heedlesse harts entyse.

And next to her sate goodly _Shamefastnesse_, l
Ne euer durst her eyes from ground vpreare,
Ne euer once did looke vp from her desse,
As if some blame of euill she did feare,
That in her cheekes made roses oft appeare:
And her against sweet _Cherefulnesse_ was placed,
Whose eyes like twinkling stars in euening cleare,
Were deckt with smyles, that all sad humors chaced,
And darted forth delights, the which her goodly graced.

And next to her sate sober _Modestie_, li
Holding her hand vpon her gentle hart;
And her against sate comely _Curtesie_,
That vnto euery person knew her part;
And her before was seated ouerthwart
Soft _Silence_, and submisse _Obedience_,
Both linckt together neuer to dispart,
Both gifts of God not gotten but from thence,
Both girlonds[193] of his Saints against their foes offence.

Thus sate they all a round in seemely rate: lii
And in the midst of them a goodly mayd,
Euen in the lap of _Womanhood_ there sate,
The which was all in lilly white arayd,
With siluer streames amongst the linnen stray’d;
Like to the Morne, when first her shyning face
Hath to the gloomy world it selfe bewray’d,
That same was fayrest _Amoret_ in place,
Shyning with beauties light, and heauenly vertues grace.

Whom soone as I beheld, my hart gan throb, liii
And wade in doubt, what best were to be donne:
For sacrilege me seem’d the Church to rob,
And folly seem’d to leaue the thing vndonne,
Which with so strong attempt I had begonne.
Tho shaking off all doubt and shamefast feare,
Which Ladies loue I heard had neuer wonne
Mongst men of worth, I to her stepped neare,
And by the lilly hand her labour’d vp to reare.

Thereat that formost matrone me did blame, liv
And sharpe rebuke, for being ouer bold;
Saying it was to Knight vnseemely shame,
Vpon a recluse Virgin to lay hold,
That vnto _Venus_ seruices was sold.
To whom I thus, Nay but it fitteth best,
For _Cupids_ man with _Venus_ mayd to hold,
For ill your goddesse seruices are drest
By virgins, and her sacrifices let to rest.

With that my shield I forth to her did show, lv
Which all that while I closely had conceld[194];
On which when _Cupid_ with his killing bow
And cruell shafts emblazond she beheld,
At sight thereof she was with terror queld,
And said no more: but I which all that while
The pledge of faith, her hand engaged held,
Like warie[195] Hynd within the weedie soyle,
For no intreatie would forgoe so glorious spoyle.

And euermore vpon the Goddesse face lvi
Mine eye was fixt, for feare of her offence,
Whom when I saw with amiable grace
To laugh at[196] me, and fauour my pretence,
I was emboldned with more confidence,
And nought for nicenesse nor for enuy sparing,
In presence of them all forth led her thence,
All looking on, and like astonisht staring,
Yet to lay hand on her, not one of all them daring.

She often prayd, and often me besought, lvii
Sometime with tender teares to let her goe,
Sometime with witching smyles: but yet for nought,
That euer she to me could say or doe,
Could she her wished freedome fro me wooe;
But forth I led her through the Temple gate,
By which I hardly past with much adoe:
But that same Ladie which me friended late
In entrance, did me also friend in my retrate.

No lesse did _Daunger_[197] threaten me with dread, lviii
When as he saw me, maugre all his powre,
That glorious spoyle of beautie with me lead,
Then _Cerberus_, when _Orpheus_ did recoure
His Leman from the Stygian Princes boure.
But euermore my shield did me defend,
Against the storme of euery dreadfull stoure:
Thus safely with my loue I thence did wend.
So ended he his tale, where I this Canto end.

FOOTNOTES:

[169] Arg. 1 _conqust_ _1596_

[170] ii 8 Since] Sith _1609_

[171] vii 8 nanner _1596_

[172] 9 maintaine, _1596_

[173] ancients _1596_

[174] ix 1 yearne _1609 passim_

[175] xvii 5 award _1609_

[176] xix 1 meanest] nearest _1596_

[177] 2 disdeigning _1609_

[178] xxiii 2 ghesse] bee _1596_ (_Malone 616_), _1609_

[179] 8 bee] ghesse _1596_ (_Malone 616_), _1609_

[180] xxv 1 all eyes _1596_

[181] dight, _1596_, _1609_

[182] xxvi 9 aspire] inspire _1611_

[183] xxvii 1 _Hyllus_ _1596_: _Hylus_ _1609_. _Cf._ III xii 7, l. 9

[184] 7 tyde, _1596_, _1609_

[185] 8 friendship _1596_

[186] xxxi 9 adowne _1609_

[187] xxxv 6 hell] hele _or_ mell _conj. edd._

[188] xxxvi 3 loue _1596_: Loue _1609_

[189] xxxvii 9 may _1596_

[190] xxxviii 7 bathe _1609_

[191] xl 5 forlore _1596_

[192] xlii 6 elder _1609_

[193] li 9 girlonds] gardians _conj. Church_: guerdons _conj. Collier_

[194] lv 2 conceald _1609_

[195] 8 warie] wearie _conj. Upton_

[196] lvi 4 at] on _1609_

[197] lviii 1 daunger _1596_: danger _1609_

_Cant. XI._

_Marinells former wound is heald,
he comes to Proteus hall,
Where Thames doth the Medway wedd,
and feasts the Sea-gods all._
]

Bvt ah for pittie that I haue thus long i
Left a fayre Ladie languishing in payne:
Now well away[198], that I haue doen such wrong,
To let faire _Florimell_ in bands remayne,
In bands of loue, and in sad thraldomes chayne;
From which vnlesse some heauenly powre her free
By miracle, not yet appearing playne,
She lenger yet is like captiu’d to bee:
That euen to thinke thereof, it inly pitties mee.

Here neede you to remember, how erewhile ii
Vnlouely _Proteus_, missing to his mind
That Virgins loue to win by wit or wile,
Her threw into a dongeon[199] deepe and blind,
And there in chaynes her cruelly did bind,
In hope thereby her to his bent to draw:
For when as neither gifts nor graces kind
Her constant mind could moue at all he saw,
He thought her to compell by crueltie and awe.

Deepe in the bottome of an huge great rocke iii
The dongeon was, in which her bound he left,
That neither yron barres, nor brasen locke
Did neede to gard from force, or secret theft
Of all her louers, which would her haue reft.
For wall’d it was with waues, which rag’d and ror’d
As they the cliffe in peeces would haue cleft;
Besides ten thousand monsters foule abhor’d
Did waite about it, gaping griesly all begor’d.

And in the midst thereof did horror dwell, iv
And darkenesse dredd, that neuer viewed day,
Like to the balefull house of lowest hell,
In which old _Styx_ her aged bones alway,
Old _Styx_ the Grandame[200] of the Gods, doth lay.
There did this lucklesse mayd seuen[201] months abide,
Ne euer euening saw, ne mornings ray,
Ne euer from the day the night descride,
But thought it all one night, that did no houres diuide.

And all this was for loue of _Marinell_, v
Who her despysd (ah who would her despyse?)
And wemens loue did from his hart expell,
And all those ioyes that weake mankind entyse.
Nathlesse his pride full dearely he did pryse;
For of a womans hand it was ywroke,
That of the wound he yet in languor lyes,
Ne can be cured of that cruell stroke
Which _Britomart_ him gaue, when he did her prouoke.

Yet farre and neare the Nymph his mother sought, vi
And many salues did to his sore applie,
And many herbes did vse. But when as nought
She saw could ease his rankling maladie,
At last to _Tryphon_ she for helpe did hie,
(This _Tryphon_ is the seagods surgeon hight)
Whom she besought to find some remedie:
And for his paines a whistle him behight
That of a fishes shell was wrought with rare delight.

So well that Leach did hearke[202] to her request, vii
And did so well employ his carefull paine,
That in short space his hurts he had redrest,
And him restor’d to healthfull state againe:
In which he long time after did remaine
There with the Nymph his mother, like her thrall;
Who sore against his will did him retaine,
For feare of perill, which to him mote fall,
Through his too ventrous prowesse proued ouer all.

It fortun’d then, a solemne feast was there viii
To all the Sea-gods and their fruitfull seede,
In honour of the spousalls, which then were
Betwixt the _Medway_ and the _Thames_ agreed.
Long had the _Thames_ (as we in records reed)
Before that day her wooed to his bed;
But the proud Nymph would for no worldly meed,
Nor no entreatie to his loue be led;
Till now at last relenting, she to him was wed.

So both agreed, that this their bridale feast ix
Should for the Gods in _Proteus_ house be made;
To which they all repayr’d, both most and least,
Aswell which in the mightie Ocean trade,
As that in riuers swim, or brookes doe wade.
All which not if an hundred tongues to tell,
And hundred mouthes, and voice of brasse I had,
And endlesse memorie, that mote excell,
In order as they came, could I recount them well.

Helpe therefore, O thou sacred imp of _Ioue_, x
The noursling of Dame _Memorie_ his deare,
To whom those rolles, layd vp in heauen aboue,
And records of antiquitie appeare,
To which no wit of man may comen neare;
Helpe me to tell the names of all those floods,
And all those Nymphes, which then assembled were
To that great banquet of the watry Gods,
And all their sundry kinds, and all their hid abodes.

First came great _Neptune_ with his threeforkt mace, xi
That rules the Seas, and makes them rise or fall;
His dewy lockes did drop with brine apace,
Vnder his Diademe imperiall:
And by his side his Queene with coronall,
Faire _Amphitrite_, most diuinely faire,
Whose yuorie shoulders weren couered all,
As with a robe, with her owne siluer haire,
And deckt with pearles, which th’Indian seas for her prepaire.

These marched farre afore the other crew; xii
And all the way before them as they went,
_Triton_ his trompet[203] shrill before them blew,
For goodly triumph and great iollyment,
That made the rockes to roare, as they were rent.
And after them the royall issue came,
Which of them sprung by lineall descent:
First the Sea-gods, which to themselues doe clame
The powre to rule the billowes, and the waues to tame.

_Phorcys_, the father of that fatall brood, xiii
By whom those old Heroes wonne such fame;
And _Glaucus_, that wise southsayes[204] vnderstood;
And tragicke _Inoes_ sonne, the which became
A God of seas through his mad mothers blame,
Now hight _Palemon_, and is saylers frend;
Great _Brontes_, and _Astræus_, that did shame
Himselfe with incest of his kin vnkend;
And huge _Orion_, that doth tempests still portend.

The rich _Cteatus_, and _Eurytus_ long; xiv
_Neleus_ and _Pelias_ louely brethren both;
Mightie _Chrysaor_, and _Caïcus_ strong;
_Eurypulus_, that calmes the waters wroth;
And faire _Euphœmus_, that vpon them goth
As on the ground, without dismay or dread:
Fierce _Eryx_, and _Alebius_ that know’th
The waters depth, and doth their bottome tread;
And sad _Asopus_, comely with his hoarie head.

There also some most famous founders were xv
Of puissant Nations, which the world possest;
Yet sonnes of _Neptune_, now assembled here:
Ancient _Ogyges_, euen th’auncientest,
And _Inachus_ renowmd aboue the rest;
_Phœnix_, and _Aon_, and _Pelasgus_ old,
Great _Belus_, _Phœax_, and _Agenor_ best;
And mightie _Albion_, father of the bold
And warlike people, which the _Britaine_ Islands hold.

For _Albion_ the sonne of _Neptune_ was, xvi
Who for the proofe of his great puissance,
Out of his _Albion_ did on dry-foot pas
Into old _Gall_, that now is cleeped _France_,
To fight with _Hercules_, that did aduance
To vanquish all the world with matchlesse might,
And there his mortall part by great mischance
Was slaine: but that which is th’immortall spright
Liues still: and to this feast with _Neptunes_ seed was dight.

But what doe I their names seeke to reherse, xvii
Which all the world haue with their issue fild?
How can they all in this so narrow verse
Contayned be, and in small compasse hild?
Let them record them, that are better skild,
And know the moniments of passed times[205]:
Onely what needeth, shall be here fulfild,
T’expresse some part of that great equipage,
Which from great _Neptune_ do deriue their parentage.

Next came the aged _Ocean_, and his Dame, xviii
Old _Tethys_, th’oldest two of all the rest,
For all the rest of those two parents came,
Which afterward both sea and land possest:
Of all which _Nereus_ th’eldest, and the best,
Did first proceed, then which none more vpright,
Ne more sincere in word and deed profest;
Most voide of guile, most free from fowle despight,
Doing him selfe, and teaching others to doe right.

Thereto he was expert in prophecies, xix
And could the ledden of the Gods vnfold,
Through which, when _Paris_ brought his famous prise
The faire Tindarid lasse, he him fortold,
That her all _Greece_ with many a champion bold
Should fetch againe, and finally destroy
Proud _Priams_ towne. So wise is _Nereus_ old,
And so well skild; nathlesse he takes great ioy
Oft-times amongst the wanton Nymphs to sport and toy.

And after him the famous riuers came, xx
Which doe the earth enrich and beautifie:
The fertile Nile, which creatures new doth frame;
Long Rhodanus, whose sourse springs from the skie;
Faire Ister, flowing from the mountaines hie;
Diuine Scamander, purpled yet with blood
Of Greekes and Troians, which therein did die;
Pactolus glistring with his golden flood,
And Tygris fierce, whose streames of none may be withstood.

Great Ganges, and immortall Euphrates, xxi
Deepe Indus, and Mæander intricate,
Slow Peneus, and tempestuous Phasides,
Swift Rhene, and Alpheus still immaculate:
Ooraxes,[206] feared for great _Cyrus_ fate;
Tybris, renowmed for the Romaines fame,
Rich Oranochy, though but knowen late;
And that huge Riuer, which doth beare his name
Of warlike Amazons, which doe possesse the same.

Ioy on those warlike women, which so long xxii
Can from all men so rich a kingdome hold;
And shame on you, O men, which boast your strong
And valiant hearts, in thoughts lesse hard and bold,
Yet quaile in conquest of that land of gold.
But this to you, O Britons, most pertaines,
To whom the right hereof it selfe hath sold;
The which for sparing litle cost or paines,
Loose so immortall glory, and so endlesse gaines.

Then was there heard a most celestiall sound, xxiii
Of dainty musicke, which did next ensew
Before the spouse: that was _Arion_ crownd;
Who playing on his harpe, vnto him drew
The eares and hearts of all that goodly crew,
That euen yet the Dolphin, which him bore
Through the Ægæan[207] seas from Pirates vew,
Stood still by him astonisht at his lore,
And all the raging seas for ioy forgot to rore.

So went he playing on the watery plaine, xxiv
Soone after whom the louely Bridegroome came,
The noble Thamis, with all his goodly traine,
But him before there went, as best became,[208]
His auncient parents, namely th’auncient Thame.
But much more aged was his wife then he,
The Ouze, whom men doe Isis rightly name;
Full weake and crooked creature seemed shee,
And almost blind through eld, that scarce her way could see.

Therefore on either side she was sustained xxv
Of two smal grooms, which by their names were hight
The _Churne_, and _Charwell_, two small streames, which pained
Them selues her footing to direct aright,
Which fayled oft through faint and feeble plight:
But _Thame_ was stronger, and of better stay;
Yet seem’d full aged by his outward sight,
With head all hoary, and his beard all gray,
Deawed with siluer drops, that trickled downe alway.

And eke he somewhat seem’d to stoupe afore xxvi
With bowed backe, by reason of the lode,
And auncient heauy burden, which he bore
Of that faire City, wherein make abode[209]
So many learned impes, that shoote abrode,
And with their braunches spred all Britany,
No lesse then do her elder sisters broode.
Ioy to you both, ye double noursery[210]
Of Arts, but Oxford thine doth _Thame_ most glorify.

But he their sonne full fresh and iolly was, xxvii
All decked in a robe of watchet hew,
On which the waues, glittering like Christall glas,
So cunningly enwouen were, that few
Could weenen, whether they were false or trew.
And on his head like to a Coronet
He wore, that seemed strange to common vew,
In which were many towres and castels set,
That it encompast round as with a golden fret.

Like as the mother of the Gods, they say, xxviii
In her great iron charet wonts to ride,
When to _Ioues_ pallace she doth take her way:
Old _Cybele_, arayd with pompous pride,
Wearing a Diademe embattild wide
With hundred turrets, like a Turribant.
With such an one was Thamis beautifide;
That was to weet the famous Troynouant,
In which her kingdomes throne is chiefly resiant.

And round about him many a pretty Page xxix
Attended duely, ready to obay;
All little Riuers, which owe vassallage
To him, as to their Lord, and tribute pay:
The chaulky Kenet, and the Thetis gray,
The morish Cole, and the soft sliding Breane,
The wanton Lee, that oft doth loose his way,
And the still Darent, in whose waters cleane
Ten thousand fishes play, and decke his pleasant streame.

Then came his neighbour flouds, which nigh him dwell, xxx
And water all the English soile throughout;
They all on him this day attended well;
And with meet seruice waited him about;
Ne none[211] disdained low to him to lout:
No not the stately Seuerne grudg’d at all,
Ne storming Humber, though he looked stout;
But both him honor’d as their principall,
And let their swelling waters low before him fall.

There was the speedy Tamar, which deuides xxxi
The Cornish and the Deuonish confines;
Through both whose borders swiftly downe it glides,
And meeting Plim, to Plimmouth thence declines:
And Dart, nigh chockt[212] with sands of tinny mines.
But Auon marched in more stately path,
Proud of his Adamants, with which he shines
And glisters wide, as als’ of wondrous Bath,
And Bristow faire, which on his waues he builded hath.

And there came Stoure with terrible aspect, xxxii
Bearing his sixe deformed heads on hye,
That doth his course through Blandford plains direct,
And washeth Winborne meades in season drye.
Next him went Wylibourne with passage slye,
That of his wylinesse his name doth take,
And of him selfe doth name the shire thereby:
And Mole, that like a nousling Mole doth make
His way still vnder ground, till Thamis he ouertake.

Then came the Rother, decked all with woods xxxiii
Like a wood God, and flowing fast to Rhy:
And Sture, that parteth with his pleasant floods
The Easterne Saxons from the Southerne ny,
And Clare, and Harwitch both doth beautify:
Him follow’d Yar, soft washing Norwitch wall,
And with him brought a present ioyfully
Of his owne fish vnto their festiuall,
Whose like none else could shew, the which they Ruffins call.

Next these the plenteous Ouse came far from land, xxxiv
By many a city, and by many a towne,
And many riuers taking vnder hand
Into his waters, as he passeth downe,
The Cle, the Were, the Grant[213], the Sture, the Rowne.
Thence doth by Huntingdon and Cambridge flit,
My mother Cambridge, whom as with a Crowne
He doth adorne, and is adorn’d of it
With many a gentle Muse, and many a learned wit.

And after him the fatall Welland went, xxxv
That if old sawes proue true (which God forbid)
Shall drowne all Holland with his excrement,
And shall see Stamford, though now homely hid,
Then shine in learning, more then euer did
Cambridge or Oxford, Englands goodly beames.
And next to him the Nene[214] downe softly slid;
And bounteous Trent, that in him selfe enseames
Both thirty sorts of fish, and thirty sundry streames.

Next these came Tyne, along whose stony bancke xxxvi
That Romaine Monarch built a brasen wall,
Which mote the feebled Britons strongly flancke
Against the Picts, that swarmed ouer all,
Which yet thereof Gualseuer they doe call:
And Twede the limit betwixt Logris land
And Albany: And Eden though but small,
Yet often stainde with bloud of many a band
Of Scots and English both, that tyned on his strand.

Then came those sixe sad brethren, like forlorne, xxxvii
That whilome were (as antique fathers tell)
Sixe valiant Knights, of one faire Nymphe yborne,
Which did in noble deedes of armes excell,
And wonned there, where now Yorke people dwell;
Still Vre, swift Werfe, and Oze the most of might,
High Swale, vnquiet Nide, and troublous Skell;
All whom a Scythian king, that Humber hight,
Slew cruelly, and in the riuer drowned quight.

But past not long, ere _Brutus_ warlicke[215] sonne xxxviii
_Locrinus_ them aueng’d, and the same date,
Which the proud Humber vnto them had donne,
By equall dome[216] repayd on his owne pate:
For in the selfe same riuer, where he late
Had drenched them, he drowned him againe;
And nam’d the riuer of his wretched fate;
Whose bad condition yet it doth retaine,
Oft tossed with his stormes, which therein still remaine.

These after, came the stony shallow Lone, xxxix
That to old Loncaster his name doth lend;
And following Dee, which Britons long ygone
Did call diuine, that doth by Chester tend;
And Conway which out of his streame doth send
Plenty of pearles to decke his dames withall,
And Lindus that his pikes doth most commend,
Of which the auncient Lincolne men doe call;
All these together marched toward _Proteus_ hall.

Ne thence the Irishe Riuers absent were, xl
Sith no lesse famous then the rest they bee,
And ioyne in neighbourhood of kingdome nere,
Why should they not likewise in loue agree,
And ioy likewise this solemne day to see?[217]
They saw it all, and present were in place;
Though I them all according their degree,
Cannot recount, nor tell their hidden race,
Nor read the saluage cuntreis, thorough which they pace.

There was the Liffy rolling downe the lea, xli
The sandy Slane, the stony Aubrian,
The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea,
The pleasant Boyne, the fishy fruitfull Ban,
Swift Awniduff, which of the English man
Is cal’de Blacke water, and the Liffar deep,
Sad Trowis, that once his people ouerran,
Strong Allo[218] tombling from Slewlogher steep,
And Mulla[219] mine, whose waues I whilom taught to weep.

And there the three renowmed brethren were, xlii
Which that great Gyant _Blomius_ begot,
Of the faire Nimph _Rheusa_ wandring there.
One day, as she to shunne the season whot,[220]
Vnder Slewbloome in shady groue was got,
This Gyant found her, and by force deflowr’d,
Whereof conceiuing, she in time forth brought
These three faire sons, which being thence forth powrd
In three great riuers ran, and many countreis scowrd.

The first, the gentle Shure that making way xliii
By sweet Clonmell, adornes rich Waterford;
The next, the stubborne Newre, whose waters gray
By faire Kilkenny and Rosseponte boord,
The third, the goodly Barow, which doth hoord
Great heapes of Salmons in his deepe bosome:
All which long sundred, doe at last accord
To ioyne in one, ere to the sea they come,
So flowing all from one, all one at last become.

There also was the wide embayed Mayre, xliv
The pleasaunt Bandon crownd with many a wood,
The spreading Lee, that like an Island fayre
Encloseth Corke with his deuided[221] flood;
And balefull Oure, late staind with English blood:
With many more, whose names no tongue can tell.
All which that day in order seemly good
Did on the Thamis attend, and waited well
To doe their duefull seruice, as to them befell.

Then came the Bride, the louely[222] _Medua_ came, xlv
Clad in a vesture of vnknowen geare,
And vncouth fashion, yet her well became;
That seem’d like siluer, sprinckled here and theare
With glittering spangs, that did like starres appeare,
And wau’d vpon, like water Chamelot,
To hide the metall, which yet euery where
Bewrayd it selfe, to let men plainely wot,
It was no mortall worke, that seem’d and yet was not.

Her goodly lockes adowne her backe did flow xlvi
Vnto her waste, with flowres bescattered,
The which ambrosiall odours forth did throw
To all about, and all her shoulders spred
As a new spring; and likewise on her hed
A Chapelet of sundry flowers she wore,
From vnder which the deawy humour shed,
Did tricle downe her haire, like to the hore
Congealed litle drops, which doe the morne adore.

On her two pretty handmaides did attend, xlvii
One cald the _Theise_, the other cald the _Crane_;
Which on her waited, things amisse to mend,
And both behind vpheld her spredding traine;
Vnder the which, her feet appeared plaine,
Her siluer feet, faire washt against this day:
And her before there paced Pages twaine,
Both clad in colours like, and like array,
The _Doune_ and eke the _Frith_, both which prepard her way.

And after these the Sea Nymphs marched all, xlviii
All goodly damzels, deckt with long greene haire,
Whom of their sire _Nereides_ men call,
All which the Oceans daughter to him bare
The gray eyde _Doris_: all which fifty are;
All which she there on her attending had.
Swift _Proto_, milde _Eucrate_, _Thetis_ faire,
Soft _Spio_, sweete _Eudore_[223], _Sao_ sad,
Light _Doto_, wanton _Glauce_, and _Galene_ glad.

White hand _Eunica_, proud _Dynamene_, xlix
Ioyous _Thalia_, goodly _Amphitrite_,
Louely _Pasithee_, kinde _Eulimene_,
Light foote _Cymothoe_, and sweete _Melite_,
Fairest _Pherusa_, _Phao_ lilly white,
Wondred _Agaue_, _Poris_, and _Nesæa_,
With _Erato_ that doth in loue delite,
And _Panopæ_, and wise _Protomedæa_,
And snowy neckd _Doris_, and milkewhite _Galathæa_.

Speedy _Hippothoe_, and chaste _Actea_, l
Large _Lisianassa_, and _Pronæa_ sage,
_Euagore_, and light _Pontoporea_,
And she, that with her least word can asswage
The surging seas, when they do sorest rage,
_Cymodoce_, and stout _Autonoe_,
And _Neso_, and _Eione_ well in age,
And seeming still to smile, _Glauconome_,
And she that hight of many heastes _Polynome_.

Fresh _Alimeda_, deckt with girlond greene; li
_Hyponeo_, with salt bedewed wrests:
_Laomedia_, like the christall sheene;
_Liagore_, much praisd for wise behests;
And _Psamathe_, for her brode snowy brests;
_Cymo_, _Eupompe_, and _Themiste_ iust;
And she that vertue loues and vice detests
_Euarna_, and _Menippe_ true in trust,
And _Nemertea_ learned well to rule her lust.

All these the daughters of old _Nereus_ were, lii
Which haue the sea in charge to them assinde,
To rule his tides, and surges to vprere,
To bring forth stormes, or fast them to vpbinde,[224]
And sailers saue from wreckes of wrathfull winde.
And yet besides three thousand more there were
Of th’Oceans seede, but[225] _Ioues_ and _Phœbus_ kinde;
The which in floods and fountaines doe appere,
And all mankinde do nourish with their waters clere.

The which, more eath it were for mortall wight, liii
To tell the sands, or count the starres on hye,
Or ought more hard, then thinke to reckon right.
But well I wote, that these which I descry,
Were present at this great solemnity:
And there amongst the rest, the mother was
Of luckelesse _Marinell_ _Cymodoce_.
Which, for my Muse her selfe now tyred has,
Vnto an other Canto I will ouerpas.

FOOTNOTES:

[198] i 3 weal-away _1609_

[199] ii 4 dungeon _1609 passim_

[200] iv 5 Gramdame _1596_

[201] 6 seuen] three _1596_ (_Malone 616_), _1609_

[202] vii 1 harke _1609_

[203] xii 3 trumpet _1609_

[204] xiii 3 soothsayes _1609_

[205] xvii 6 times] age _Todd_. _But cf._ II ii 7. II ii 42 _&c._

[206] xxi 5 Oraxes _1609_

[207] xxiii 7 Agæan _1596_, _1609_

[208] xxiv 4 became; _1596_

[209] xxvi 4 make-abode _1609_

[210] 8 noursery, _1599_, _1609_

[211] xxx 5 none] one _1609_

[212] xxxi 5 choakt _1609_

[213] xxxiv 5 Guant _1596_, _1609_: _corr. Child_

[214] xxxv 7 _Nene_ _1596_, _1609_

[215] xxxviii 1 warlike _1609_

[216] 4 doome _1609_

[217] xl 5 see. _1596_

[218] xli 8 _Allo_ _1596_, _1609_

[219] 9 _Mulla_ _1596_, _1609_

[220] xlii 4 hot. _1609 passim_

[221] xliv 4 diuided _1609 passim_

[222] xlv 1 louely] louing _1609_

[223] xlviii 8 _Endore_ _1596_, _1609_: _corr. Child_

_Cant. XII._

_Marin for loue of Florimell,
In languor wastes his life:
The Nymph his mother getteth her,
And giues to him for wife._
]

O what an endlesse worke haue I in hand, i
To count the seas abundant progeny,
Whose fruitfull seede farre passeth those in land,
And also those which wonne in th’azure sky?
For much more eath to tell the starres on hy,
Albe they endlesse seeme in estimation,
Then to recount the Seas posterity:
So fertile be the flouds in generation,
So huge their numbers, and so numberlesse their nation.

Therefore the antique wisards well inuented, ii
That _Venus_ of the fomy sea was bred;
For that the seas by her are most augmented.
Witnesse th’exceeding fry, which there are fed,
And wondrous sholes, which may of none be red.
Then blame me not, if I haue err’d in count
Of Gods, of Nymphs, of riuers yet vnred:
For though their numbers do much more surmount,
Yet all those same were there, which erst I did recount.

All those were there, and many other more, iii
Whose names and nations were too long to tell,
That _Proteus_ house they fild euen to the dore;
Yet were they all in order, as befell,
According their degrees disposed well.
Amongst the rest, was faire _Cymodoce_,
The mother of vnlucky _Marinell_,
Who thither with her came, to learne and see
The manner of the Gods when they at banquet be.

But for he was halfe mortall, being bred iv
Of mortall sire, though of immortall wombe,
He might not with immortall food be fed,
Ne with th’eternall Gods to bancket[226] come;
But walkt abrode, and round about did rome,
To view the building of that vncouth place,
That seem’d vnlike vnto his earthly home:
Where, as he to and fro by chaunce did trace,
There vnto him betid a disauentrous[227] case.

Vnder the hanging of an hideous clieffe, v
He heard the lamentable voice of one,
That piteously complaind her carefull grieffe,
Which neuer she before disclosd to none,[228]
But to her selfe her sorrow did bemone.[229]
So feelingly her case she did complaine,
That ruth it moued in the rocky stone,
And made it seeme to feele her grieuous paine,
And oft to grone with billowes beating from the maine.

Though vaine I see my sorrowes to vnfold, vi
And count my cares, when none is nigh to heare,
Yet hoping griefe may lessen being told,
I will them tell though vnto no man neare:
For heauen that vnto all lends equall eare,
Is farre from hearing of my heauy plight;
And lowest hell, to which I lie most neare,
Cares not what euils hap to wretched wight;
And greedy seas doe in the spoile of life delight.

Yet loe the seas I see by often beating, vii
Doe pearce the rockes, and hardest marble weares;
But his hard rocky hart for no entreating
Will yeeld, but when my piteous plaints he heares,
Is hardned more with my aboundant teares.
Yet though he neuer list to me relent,
But let me waste in woe my wretched yeares,
Yet will I neuer of my loue repent,
But ioy that for his sake I suffer prisonment.

And when my weary ghost with griefe outworne, viii
By timely death shall winne her wished rest,
Let then this plaint vnto his eares be borne,
That blame it is to him, that armes profest,
To let her die, whom he might haue redrest.
There did she pause, inforced to giue place,
Vnto the passion, that her heart opprest,
And after she had wept and wail’d a space,
She gan afresh thus to renew her wretched case.

Ye Gods of seas, if any Gods at all ix
Haue care of right, or ruth of wretches wrong,
By one or other way me woefull thrall,
Deliuer hence out of this dungeon strong,
In which I daily dying am too long.
And if ye deeme me death for louing one,
That loues not me, then doe it not prolong,
But let me die and end my daies attone,
And let him liue vnlou’d, or loue him selfe alone.

But if that life ye vnto me decree, x
Then let mee liue, as louers ought to do,
And of my lifes deare loue beloued be:
And if he shall[230] through pride your doome vndo,
Do you by duresse him compell thereto,
And in this prison put him here with me:
One prison fittest is to hold vs two:
So had I rather to be thrall, then free;
Such thraldome or such freedome let it surely be.

But O vaine iudgement, and conditions vaine, xi
The which the prisoner points vnto the free,
The whiles I him condemne, and deeme his paine,
He where he list goes loose, and laughes at me.
So euer loose, so euer happy be.
But where so loose or happy that thou art,
Know _Marinell_ that all this is for thee.
With that she wept and wail’d, as if her hart
Would quite haue burst through great abundance[231] of her smart.

All which complaint when _Marinell_ had heard, xii
And vnderstood the cause of all her care
To come of him, for vsing her so hard,
His stubborne heart, that neuer felt misfare
Was toucht with soft remorse and pitty rare;
That euen for griefe of minde he oft did grone,
And inly wish, that in his powre it weare
Her to redresse: but since he meanes found none
He could no more but her great misery bemone.

Thus whilst his stony heart with tender ruth xiii
Was toucht, and mighty courage mollifide[232],
Dame _Venus_ sonne that tameth stubborne youth
With iron bit, and maketh him abide,
Till like a victor on his backe he ride,
Into his mouth his maystring bridle threw,
That made him stoupe, till he did him bestride:
Then gan he make him tread his steps anew,
And learne to loue, by learning louers paines to rew.

Now gan he in his grieued minde deuise, xiv
How from that dungeon he might her enlarge:
Some while he thought, by faire and humble wise
To _Proteus_ selfe to sue for her discharge:
But then he fear’d his mothers former charge
Gainst womens loue, long giuen him in vaine.
Then gan he thinke, perforce with sword and targe
Her forth to fetch, and _Proteus_ to constraine:
But soone he gan such folly to forthinke againe.

Then did he cast to steale her thence away, xv
And with him beare, where none of her might know.
But all in vaine: for why he found no way
To enter in, or issue forth below:
For all about that rocke the sea did flow.
And though vnto his will she giuen were,
Yet without ship or bote her thence to row,
He wist not how her thence away to bere;
And daunger well he wist long to continue there.

At last when as no meanes he could inuent, xvi
Backe to him selfe[233] he gan returne the blame,
That was the author of her punishment;
And with vile curses, and reprochfull shame
To damne him selfe by euery euill name;
And deeme vnworthy or of loue or life,
That had despisde so chast and faire a dame,
Which him had sought through trouble and long strife;
Yet had refusde a God that her had sought to wife.

In this sad plight he walked here and there, xvii
And romed round about the rocke in vaine,
As he had lost him selfe, he wist not where;
Oft listening if he mote her heare againe;
And still bemoning her vnworthy paine.
Like as an Hynde whose calfe is falne vnwares
Into some pit, where she him heares complaine,
An hundred times about the pit side fares,
Right sorrowfully mourning her bereaued cares.

And now by this the feast was throughly ended, xviii
And euery one gan homeward to resort.
Which seeing _Marinell_, was sore offended,
That his departure thence should be so short,
And leaue his loue in that sea-walled fort.
Yet durst he not his mother disobay,
But her attending in full seemly sort,
Did march amongst the many all the way:
And all the way did inly mourne, like one astray.

Being returned to his mothers bowre, xix
In solitary silence far from wight,
He gan record the lamentable stowre,
In which his wretched loue lay day and night,
For his deare sake, that ill deseru’d that plight:
The thought whereof empierst his hart so deepe,
That of no worldly thing he tooke delight;
Ne dayly food did take, ne nightly sleepe,
But pyn’d, and mourn’d, and languisht, and alone did weepe.

That in short space his wonted chearefull hew xx
Gan fade, and liuely spirits deaded quight:
His cheeke bones raw, and eie-pits hollow grew,
And brawney armes had lost their knowen might,
That nothing like himselfe he seem’d in sight.
Ere long so weake of limbe, and sicke of loue
He woxe, that lenger he note stand vpright,
But to his bed was brought, and layd aboue,
Like ruefull ghost, vnable once to stirre or moue.

Which when his mother saw, she in her mind xxi
Was troubled sore, ne wist well what to weene,
Ne could by search nor any meanes out find
The secret cause and nature of his teene,
Whereby she might apply some medicine;
But weeping day and night, did him attend,
And mourn’d to see her losse before her eyne,
Which grieu’d her more, that she it could not mend:
To see an helpelesse euill, double griefe doth lend.

Nought could she read the roote of his disease, xxii
Ne weene what mister maladie it is,
Whereby to seeke some meanes it to appease.
Most did she thinke, but most she thought amis,
That that same former fatall wound of his
Whyleare by _Tryphon_ was not throughly healed,
But closely rankled vnder th’orifis:
Least did she thinke, that which he most concealed,
That loue it was, which in his hart lay vnreuealed.