Virtue to make his own desires implanted
In his dear Eucharis; for women never
Love beauty in their sex, but envy ever.
His judgment yet (that durst not suit address,
Nor, past due means, presume of due success)
Reason gat fortune in the end to speed

To his best prayers: but strange it seem'd, indeed,
That fortune should a chaste affection bless:
Preferment seldom graceth bashfulness.

Nor grac'd it Hymen yet; but many a dart
And many an amorous thought, enthrall'd his heart,
Ere he obtain'd her; and he sick became,

Forc'd to abstain her sight, and then the flame
Rag'd in his bosom. O, what grief did fill him!
Sight made him sick, and want of sight did kill him.
The virgins wonder'd where Diætia stay'd,
For so did Hymen term himself, a maid.

At length with sickly looks he greeted them:
'Tis strange to see 'gainst what an extreme stream
A lover strives; poor Hymen look'd so ill,
That as in merit he increased still

By suffering much, so he in grace decreas'd.
Women are most won, when men merit least:
If merit look not well, love bids stand by;
Love's special lesson is to please the eye.
And Hymen soon recovering all he lost,
Deceiving still these maids, but himself most.
His love and he with many virgin dames,
Noble by birth, noble by beauty's flames,
Leaving the town with songs and hallow'd lights,
To do great Ceres Eleusina rites

Of zealous Sacrifice, were made a prey

To barbarous Rovers, that in ambush lay,

And with rude hands enforc'd their shining spoil,
Far from the darken'd city, tir'd with toil.

And when the yellow issue of the sky
Came trooping forth, jealous of cruelty
To their bright fellows of this under-heaven,
Into a double night they saw them driven,-
A horrid cave, the thieves' black mansion;
Where, weary of the journey they had
gone,
Their last night's watch, and drunk with their sweet
gains,

Dull Morpheus enter'd, laden with silken chains,
Stronger than iron, and bound the swelling veins
And tired senses of these lawless swains.

But when the virgin lights thus dimly burn'd,
O, what a hell was heaven in! how they mourn'd,
And wrung their hands, and wound their gentle forms
Into the shapes of sorrow! golden storms
Fell from their eyes; as when the sun appears,
And yet it rains, so show'd their eyes their tears.
And as when funeral dames watch a dead corse,
Weeping about it, telling with remorse
What pains he felt, how long in pain he lay,
How little food he eat, what he would say,
And then mix mournful tales of others' deaths,
Smothering themselves in clouds of their own breaths;
At length, one cheering other, call for wine,
The golden bowl drinks tears out of their eyne,
As they drink wine from it; and round it goes,
Each helping other to relieve their woes;
So cast these virgins' beauties mutual rays,
One lights another, face the face displays;
Lips by reflection kiss'd, and hands hands shook,
Even by the whiteness each of other took.
But Hymen now us'd friendly Morpheus' aid,
Slew every thief, and rescu'd every maid.
And now did his enamour'd passion take

Heart from his hearty deed, whose worth did make

His hope of bounteous Eucharis more strong;
And now came Love with Proteus, who had long
Angled the little god with prayers and gifts,

Run through all shapes, and varied all his shifts,
To win Love's stay with him, and make him love him;
And when he saw no strength of sleight could move
him

To make him love or stay, he nimbly turn'd

Into Love's self, he so extremely burn'd.

And thus came Love, with Proteus and his power,
T'encounter Eucharis: first, like the flower
That Juno's milk did spring, the silver Lily,
He fell on Hymen's hand, who straight did spy
The bounteous Godhead, and with wondrous joy
Offer'd it Eucharis. She, wondrous coy,

Drew back her hand: the subtle flower did woo it,
And, drawing it near, mix'd so you could not know it.
As two clear tapers mix in one their light,
So did the lily and the hand their white.
She view'd it; and her view the form bestows
Amongst her spirits: for, as colour flows
From superficies of each thing we see,
Even so with colours forms emitted be;
And where Love's form is, love is; love is form;
He enter'd at the eye; his sacred storm

Rose from the hand, love's sweetest instrument:
It stirr'd her blood's sea so, that high it went,
And beat in bashful waves 'gainst the white shore
Of her divided cheeks; it rag'd the more,
Because the tide went 'gainst the haughty wind
Of her estate and birth: and, as we find,
In fainting ebbs, the flowery Zephyr hurls
The green-hair'd Hellespont, broke in silver curls,
'Gainst Hero's tower; but in his blast's retreat,
The waves obeying him, they after beat,

Leaving the chalky shore a great way pale,
Then moist it freshly with another gale;

So ebb'd and flow'd the blood in Eucharis' face,
Coyness and Love striv'd which had greatest grace;
Virginity did fight on Coyness' side,

Fear of her parents' frowns, and female pride,
Loathing the lower place, more than it loves
The high contents desert and virtue moves.
With love fought Hymen's beauty and his valure,
Which scarce could so much favour yet allure
To come to strike, but fameless idle stood:
Action is fiery valour's sovereign good.

But Love, once enter'd, wish'd no greater aid
Than he could find within; thought thought betray'd;
The brib'd, but incorrupted garrison

Sung "Io Hymen"; there those songs begun
And Love was grown so rich with such a gain,
And wanton with the ease of his free reign,
That he would turn into her roughest frowns
To turn them out; and thus he Hymen crowns
King of his thoughts, man's greatest empery:
This was his first brave step to deity.

Home to the mourning city they repair,
With news as wholesome as the morning air,
To the sad parents of each saved maid:
But Hymen and his Eucharis had laid
This plot, to make the flame of their delight
Round as the moon at full, and full as bright.
Because the parents of chaste Eucharis
Exceeding Hymen's so, might cross their bliss;
And as the world rewards deserts, that law
Cannot assist with force; so when they saw
Their daughter safe, take vantage of their own,
Praise Hymen's valour much, nothing bestown;
Hymen must leave the virgins in a Grove

Far off from Athens, and go first to prove,
If to restore them all with fame and life,
He should enjoy his dearest as his wife.
This told to all the maids, the most agree:
The riper sort, knowing what 'tis to be
The first mouth of a news so far deriv'd,
And that to hear and bear news brave folks liv'd,
As being a carriage special hard to bear
Occurrents, these occurrents being so dear,
They did with grace protest, they were content
T'accost their friends with all their compliment,
For Hymen's good; but to incur their harm,
There he must pardon them. This wit went warm
To Adolesche's brain, a Nymph born high,
Made all of voice and fire, that upwards fly:
Her heart and all her forces' nether train
Climb'd to her tongue, and thither fell her brain,
Since it could go no higher, and it must go;
All power she had, even her tongue, did so.
In spirit and quickness she much joy did take,
And lov'd her tongue, only for quickness' sake;
And she would haste and tell. The rest all stay:
Hymen goes one, the nymph another way;
And what became of her I'll tell at last:

Yet take her visage now; moist-lipp'd, long-fac'd,
Thin like an iron wedge, so sharp and tart,

As 'twere of purpose made to cleave Love's heart.
Well were this lovely beauty rid of her.
And Hymen did at Athens now prefer
His welcome suit, which he with joy aspir'd:
A hundred princely youths with him retir'd
To fetch the Nymphs; chariots and music went
And home they came: heaven with applauses rent.
The nuptials straight proceed, whiles all the town,
Fresh in their joys, might do them most renown.