Her blushing het her chamber: she lookt out,
And all the ayre she purpled round about,
And after it a foule black day befell,
Which euer since a red morne doth foretell,
And still renewes our woes for Heros wo,
And foule it prou'd, because it figur'd so
The next nights horror, which prepare to heare;
I faile if it prophane your daintiest eare.
Then thou most strangely-intellectuall fire,
That proper to my soule hast power t'inspire
Her burning faculties, and with the wings
Of thy vnspheared flame visitst the springs
Of spirits immortall; Now (as swift as Time
Doth follow Motion) finde th'eternall Clime
Of his free soule, whose liuing subiect stood
Vp to the chin in the Pyerean flood,
And drunke to me halfe this Musean storie,
Inscribing it to deathles Memorie :
Confer with it, and make my pledge as deepe,
That neithers draught be consecrate to sleepe.
Tell it how much his late desires I tender,
(If yet it know not) and to light surrender
My soules darke ofspring, willing it should die
To loues, to passions, and societie.
Sweet Hero left vpon her bed alone,
Her maidenhead, her vowes, Leander gone,
And nothing with her but a violent crew
Of new come thoughts that yet she neuer knew,
Euen to her selfe a stranger; was much like
Th' Iberian citie that wars hand did strike
By English force in princely Essex guide,
When peace assur'd her towres had fortifide;
And golden-fingred India had bestowd
Such wealth on her, that strength and Empire flowd
Into her Turrets; and her virgin waste
The wealthie girdle of the Sea embraste :
Till our Leander that made Mars his Cupid,
For soft loue-sutes, with iron thunders chid:
Swum to her Towers, dissolu'd her virgin zone;
Lead in his power, and made Confusion
Run through her streets amazd, that she supposde
She had not been in her owne walls inclosde,
But rapt by wonder to some forraine state,
Seeing all her issue so disconsolate:
And all her peacefull mansions possest
With wars iust spoyle, and many a forraine guest
From euery corner driuing an enioyer,
Supplying it with power of a destroyer.
So far'd fayre Hero in th'expugned fort
Of her chast bosome, and of euery sort
183 thou T. B.: how Qq: now Rob., Cunn.: no Dyce, Bull.
Strange thoughts possest her, ransacking her brest
For that that was not there, her wonted rest.
She was a mother straight and bore with paine
Thoughts that spake straight and wisht their mother slaine;
She hates their liues, & they their own & hers:
Such strife still growes where sin the race prefers.
Loue is a golden bubble full of dreames,
That waking breakes, and fils vs with extreames.
She mus'd how she could looke vpon her Sire,
And not shew that without, that was intire.
For as a glasse is an inanimate eie,
And outward formes imbraceth inwardlie:
So is the eye an animate glasse that showes
In-formes without vs. And as Phoebus throwes
His beames abroad, though he in clowdes be closde,
Still glancing by them till he finde opposde
A loose and rorid vapour that is fit
T'euent his searching beames, and vseth it
To forme a tender twentie-coloured eie,
Cast in a circle round about the skie.
So when our firie soule, our bodies starre,
(That euer is in motion circulare)
Conceiues a forme; in seeking to display it
Through all our clowdie parts, it doth conuey it
Forth at the eye, as the most pregnant place,
And that reflects it round about the face.
And this euent vncourtly Hero thought
Her inward guilt would in her lookes haue wrought:
For yet the worlds stale cunning she resisted
To beare foule thoughts, yet forge what lookes she listed, And held it for a very sillie sleight,
To make a perfect mettall counterfeit,
Glad to disclaime her selfe, proud of an Art,
That makes the face a Pandar to the hart.
Those be the painted Moones, whose lights prophane
Beauties true Heauen, at full still in their wane.
Those be the Lapwing faces that still crie,
Here tis, when that they vow is nothing nie.
Base fooles, when euery moorish fowle can teach
That which men thinke the height of humane reach.
But custome that the Apoplexie is
Of beddred nature and liues led amis,
And takes away all feeling of offence:
Yet brazde not Heros brow with impudence ;
And this she thought most hard to bring to pas,
To seeme in countnance other then she was,
As if she had two soules; one for the face,
One for the hart; and that they shifted place
As either list to vtter, or conceale
What they conceiu'd: or as one soule did deale
With both affayres at once, keeps and eiects
Both at an instant contrarie effects:
Retention and eiection in her powrs
Being acts alike: for this one vice of ours,
That forms the thought, and swaies the countenance,
Rules both our motion and our vtterance.
These and more graue conceits toyld Heros spirits:
For though the light of her discoursiue wits
Perhaps might finde some little hole to pas
Through all these worldly cinctures; yet (alas)
There was a heauenly flame incompast her
Her Goddesse, in whose Phane she did prefer
Her virgin vowes; from whose impulsiue sight
She knew the black shield of the darkest night
Could not defend her, nor wits subtilst art:
This was the point pierst Hero to the hart.
Who heauie to the death, with a deep sigh
And hand that languisht, tooke a robe was nigh,
Exceeding large, and of black Cypres made,
In which she sate, hid from the day in shade,
Euen ouer head and face downe to her feete;
Her left hand made it at her bosome meete;
Her right hand leand on her hart-bowing knee,
Wrapt in vnshapefull foulds twas death to see :
Her knee stayd that, and that her falling face
Each limme helpt other to put on disgrace.
No forme was seene, where forme held all her sight:
But like an Embrion that saw neuer light:
Or like a scorched statue made a cole
With three-wingd lightning: or a wretched soule
Muffled with endles darknes, she did sit:
The night had neuer such a heauie spirit.
Yet might an imitating eye well see,
How fast her cleere teares melted on her knee
Through her black vaile, and turnd as black as it,
Mourning to be her teares: then wrought her wit
With her broke vow, her Goddesse wrath, her fame,
All tooles that enginous despayre could frame:
Which made her strow the floore with her torne haire,
And spread her mantle peece-meale in the aire.
Like foues sons club, strong passion strook her downe, 315
And with a piteous shrieke inforst her swoune :
Her shrieke made with another shrieke ascend
The frighted Matron that on her did tend:
And as with her owne crie her sence was slaine,
So with the other it was calde againe.
She rose and to her bed made forced way,
And layd her downe euen where Leander lay:
And all this while the red sea of her blood
Ebd with Leander: but now turnd the flood,
And all her fleete of sprites came swelling in
With childe of saile, and did hot fight begin
With those seuere conceits, she too much markt,
And here Leanders beauties were imbarkt.
He came in swimming painted all with ioyes,
Such as might sweeten hell: his thought destroyes
All her destroying thoughts: she thought she felt
His heart in hers with her contentions melt,
And chid her soule that it could so much erre,
To check the true ioyes he deseru'd in her.
Her fresh heat blood cast figures in her eyes,
And she supposde she saw in Neptunes skyes
How her star wandred, washt in smarting brine
For her loues sake, that with immortall wine
Should be embath'd, and swim in more hearts case,
Than there was water in the Sestian seas.
Then said her Cupid prompted spirit: Shall I
Sing mones to such delightsome harmony?
Shall slick-tongde fame patcht vp with voyces rude,
The drunken bastard of the multitude,
(Begot when father Iudgement is away,
And gossip-like, sayes because others say,
Takes newes as if it were too hot to eate,
And spits it slauering forth for dog-fees meate)
Make me for forging a phantastique vow,
Presume to beare what makes graue matrons bow?
Good vowes are neuer broken with good deedes,
For then good deedes were bad : vowes are but seedes,
And good deeds fruits; euen those good deedes that grow
From other stocks than from th'obserued vow.
That is a good deede that preuents a bad :
Had I not yeelded, slaine my selfe I had.
Hero Leander is, Leander Hero:
Such vertue loue hath to make one of two.
If then Leander did my maydenhead git,
Leander being my selfe I still retaine it.
We breake chast vowes when we liue loosely euer :
But bound as we are, we liue loosely neuer.
Two constant louers being ioynd in one,
Yeelding to one another, yeeld to none.
We know not how to vow, till loue vnblinde vs,
And vowes made ignorantly neuer binde vs.
Too true it is that when t'is gone men hate
The ioyes as vaine they tooke in loues estate:
But that's since they haue lost the heauenly light
Should shew them way to iudge of all things right.
When life is gone death must implant his terror,
As death is foe to life, so loue to error.
Before we loue how range we through this sphere,
Searching the sundrie fancies hunted here:
Now with desire of wealth transported quite
Beyond our free humanities delight:
Now with ambition climing falling towrs,
Whose hope to scale our feare to fall deuours:
Now rapt with pastimes, pomp, all ioyes impure ;
In things without vs no delight is sure.
But loue with all ioyes crownd, within doth sit;
O Goddesse pitie loue and pardon it.
This spake she weeping: but her Goddesse eare
Burnd with too sterne a heat, and would not heare.
Aie me, hath heauens straight fingers no more graces
For such as Hero, then for homeliest faces ?
Yet she hopte well, and in her sweet conceit
Waying her arguments, she thought them weight:
And that the logick of Leanders beautie,
And them together would bring proofes of dutie.
And if her soule, that was a skilfull glance
Of Heauens great essence, found such imperance
In her loues beauties; she had confidence
Ioue lou'd him too, and pardond her offence.
Beautie in heauen and earth this grace doth win,
It supples rigor, and it lessens sin.
Thus, her sharpe wit, her loue, her secrecie,
(Trouping together, made her wonder why
She should not leaue her bed, and to the Temple?
Her health said she must liue; her sex, dissemble.
She viewd Leanders place, and wisht he were
Turnd to his place, so his place were Leander.
Aye me (said she) that loues sweet life and sence
Should doe it harme! my loue had not gone hence,
Had he been like his place. O blessed place,
Image of Constancie. Thus my loues grace
Parts no where but it leaues some thing behinde
Worth obseruation: he renownes his kinde.
His motion is like heauens Orbiculer:
For where he once is, he is euer there.
This place was mine: Leander now t'is thine;
Thou being my selfe, then it is double mine:
Mine, and Leanders mine, Leanders mine.
O see what wealth it yeelds me, nay yeelds him:
For I am in it, he for me doth swim.
Rich, fruitfull loue, that doubling selfe estates
Elixer-like contracts, though separates.
Deare place, I kisse thee, and doe welcome thee,
As from Leander euer sent to mee.
The end of the Third Sestyad.)
the page containing the conclusion of the third sestiad is omitted in
the British Museum copy of ed. 1598.
here given from the edition of 1600.
By a mistake of the printer
Lines 398-419 are therefore
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