Daiphantus, or the passions of loue Comicall to reade, but tragicall to act: as full of wit, as experience. By An. Sc. gentleman. Wherevnto is added, The passionate mans pilgrimage.

THE PASSIONS OF LOVE . IN Venice faire ; the Citie most admir'd There liu'd a Gallant , who Daiphantus hight , Right Nobly borne , well Letter'd , Lou'd , Desir'd , Of euery Courtyer in their most delight : ‛ So full of Pleasaunce , that he seem'd to be , 'A man begot in Venus infancie . His face was faire , full comely was his feature , Lip't like the Cherrie , with a Wantons eye : A Mars in anger , yet a Venus Creature , Made part of Cynthia , most of Mercurie : A pittied soule , so made of Loue and hate , Though still belou'd , in Loue vnfortunate . Thus made by Nature , Fortune did conspire , To ballance him , with weight of Cupids Wings : Passant in Loue , yet oft in great desire ; Sudden in Loue , not stayd in any thing : He courted all , not lou'd , and much did striue , To die for Loue , yet neuer meant to wiue . As Nature made him faire , so likewise wittie , ( She not content ) his thoughts thus very fickle ; Fortune that gain'd him , plac'st him in this Citie To wheele his head , which she had made most tickle Fortune made him belou'd and so distraught him , His reynes let forth , he fell , and Cupid caught him . Not farre from Venice , in an Abbie faire , ( Well wal'd about ) two worthy Ladyes dwelt , Who Virgins were ; so sweet and Debonayre The ground they trod on , of their odour smelt : Two Virgin-Sisters ( matchlesse in a Pheare ) Had liued Virgins , wel-nigh eighteene yeare . Eurialae the Elder Sister 's nam'd The other was Vrania , the wise : Nature for making them was surely blam'd Venus her selfe , by them all did despise . ‛ Such beauties , with such vertue , So combind ‛ That al exceeds ; yet nought exceeds their mind . Eurialae , so shewes as doth the Sunne , When mounted on the continent of Heauen : Yet oft she 's clowded , but when her glorie 's come Two Suns appeare to make her glory euen . ‛ Her smiles sends brightnes , when the Sun 's not bright . ‛ Her lookes giue beauty , when the sun lends light . Modest and humble of Nature milde and sweete , Vnmatched beauty with her vertue meeting : Proud that her lowly bezaunce doth regreet With her chast silence ( " Vertue euer keeping . ) ‛ This is the Sunne , that sets , before it rise , ‛ This is a Starre . No lesse are both her eyes . Her beautie pearlesse , pearlesse is her minde , Her body matchlesse , matchlesse are her thoughts Her selfe but one , but one like her we finde , Her wealth 's her vertue : ( such vertue is not bought ‛ This is a heauen on earth , makes her diuine ; ‛ This is the Sunne , obscures where it doth shine Vrania next ( Oh that I had that Art Could write her worth ) her worth no eye may see : Or that her tongue ( oh heauen ) were now my hart ; what siluer Lines in showres should drop from me : My heart she keepes , how can I then indite ? ‛ No heart-lesse creature , can Loue-passions write . As a black vaile vpon the wings of morne , Brings forth a day as cleere as Venus face , Or , a faire Iewell by an Ethiope worne , Inricheth much the eye , which it doth grace , Such is her beautie , if it well be told , Plac'st in a Iettie Chariot set with gold . Her haire , Nights Canopie in mourning weedes Is still inthron'd , when lockt within is seene A Deitie , drawne by a paire of Steedes Like Venus eyes , And if the like haue beene Her eyes two radiant Starres , but yet diuine ; Her face daies-sun , ( heauen al ) if once they shine . Vpon the left side of this heauenly feature , ( In Curious worke ) Nature hath set a Seale , Wherein is writ : This is a matchlesse Creature : Where wit and beautie striues for the appeale . The Iudges chosde are Loue & Fancie ; They rise , And looking on her , with her left their eyes . Her Wit and Beautie , were at many fraies , Whether the deepe impressions did cause : Nature , said Beautie ; Art , her Wit did praise : Loue , thought her face ; her tongue had Truths applause . Whilest they contend , which was the better part ; I lent an Eie , She rob'd me of my heart . Sisters these two are , like the Day and Night , Their glories by their vertues they doe Merit : One as the Day to see the others might , The others Night , to shadow a high Spirit : " If all were Day , how could a Louer rest ? " Or if all Night , Louers were too much blest . Both faire . As eke their bodies tall and slender , Both wise , yet Silence shewes their modestie : Both graue , although they both are yong & tender : Both humble hearted : Not in Pollicie So faire , wise , graue , and humble are esteem'd , ‛ Yet what men see , the worst of them is deem'd . ‛ Nature , that made them faire , doth loue perfection ; ‛ What youth counts wisdom , Age doth bring to trial , ‛ Graue years in youth : in Age needs no direction : ‛ An humble heart deserues , findes no denyall . Faires ring their Knells , & yet Fame neuer dies , " True Iudgement 's from the hart , not from the eies . These two , two Sisters , Cozens to this Louer ; He often courts , As was his wonted fashion : Who sweares all s fayre ▪ yet hath no heart to proue her , Seems still in Loue , or in a Louers passion , Now learn's this Lesson , & Loue-scoffers find it , " Cupid hits rightest when Louers do least mind it . Although his guise were fashion'd to his mind , And wording Loue , As complement he vsde , Seem'd still to iest at Loue , and Louers kind , Neuer obtainde , but where he was refusde : Yet now , his words with wit so are rewarded , He loues , loues two , loues all ; of none regarded . Now he that laught to heare true Louers sigh Can bite his Lippes vntill his heart doth bleed : Who Iyb'd at al , loues al ; ech daies his night , Who scorn'd , now weeps & howles , writes his own meed ‛ He that would bandy Loue , is now the Ball , ‛ Who fear'd no hazard , himself hath tane the fall . ‛ Beautie and Vertue , who did praise the fashion , ‛ Who Loue and Fancie thought a Comodie , ‛ Now is turn'd Poet , and writes Loue in Passion , ‛ His Verses fits the bleeding Tragedie : In Willow weeds right wel he acts his part , " His Sceanes are teares , whose Embryon was his hart . He loues , where loue , to all doth proue disaster , ‛ His eyes no sooner see , but hee 's straight blind ; His kindred , friends , or foes , he followes faster Then his owne good ; he 's now but too too kind : He that spent all , would faine find out loues treasure , Extremities are for extreams the measure . Thus thinkes he of the words he spent in vaine ; And wishes now his tongue had Eloquence : Hee 's dumbe , all motion ( that ) a world could gaine , A Centre now without circumference : Cupid with words , who fought : would teach him Art , Hath lost his tongue , and with it left his hart . ‛ He sweares he loues , ( the heat doth proue the fire ) ‛ He weepes his Loue , his teares shew his affection , ‛ He writes his Loue ; his Lynes plead his desire , ‛ He sings his Loue , the Dittie mournes the action , He sings , writs , weeps & sweares , that he 's in sadnes " It is beleeu'd , not cur'd , Loue turnes to madnes . ‛ Loue once dissembled , Oaths are a grace most slender , ‛ Teares oft are heard Embassadors for beauty : ‛ Words writ in gold , an yron heart may render : 'A passion song shewes much more hope than duty , Oaths spoke in teares ; words song , proue no true Ditty , " A fained Loue , must find a fained pitty . Thus is the good Daiphantus like the Flie Who playing with the candle feeles the flame , " The smiles of scorne , are Louers miserie , " That soule 's most vext , is grieued with his name . Though kind Daiphantus , do most loue protest , ‛ Yet is his crosse , still to be thought in iest . Poore torturde Louer , like a periurde soule , Sweares till hee 's hoarse , yet neuer is beleeu'd , " ( Whose once a Villaine , still is counted foule ) " Oh wofull pittie , when with winde releeu'de , ‛ Learns this by rote , Though Loue vnconstant be ‛ They must proue constant , wil her comforts see . Now to the humble heart of his dread Saint , Eurialae , he kneels , but 's not regarded : Then to Vrania , sighes till he growes faint , Such is her wit , In silence hee 's rewarded : ‛ His humble voyce , Eurialae accuseth , ‛ His sighing Passion , Vrania refuseth . ‛ Then lifts he vp his eyes , but Heauen frowneth , ‛ Bowes downe his head ▪ Earth is a Masse of sorrow : ‛ Runnes to the seas , the sea , it stormes and howleth ; ‛ Hies to the woods , the Birds sad tunes do borrow : Heauen , Earth , sea , Woods & al things do conspire , ‛ He burne in Loue , yet friese in his desire . The Ladyes Iest , command him to feigne still , Tell him how one day , he may be in loue , That Louers reason , hath not Loues free will : Smile in disdaine , to thinke of that he proues . ‛ Oh , me Daiphantus , howart thou aduis'd ? ‛ When hee 's lesse pittied , then he is despis'd . They hold this but his humour , seeme so wise , And many Louers stories forth do bring , Court him with Shaddowes , whilest hee catcheth Flies , Byting his fingers till the blood forth spring , Then do they much commend his careles passion , ‛ Call him a Louer of our Courtiers Fashion . All this doe they in modestie ; yet free From thinking him so honest as in truth , Much lesse so kinde , as to loue two or three , Him neere allied , and he himselfe a Youth : 'Till with the sweat which from his suffrings life , ‛ His face is pearled , like the lights his eyes . Then with his looke-down-cast , & trembling hand , A high Dutch colour , and a Tongue like yee , Apart with this Eurialae to stand Endeuours He ; This was his last diuice ; ‛ Yet in so humble straines this Gallant courts her , ‛ The wind being hiē , his breath it neuer hurts her Speechles thus standes he , till she fear'd him dead , And rubbes his temples , calls and cryes for ayde : Water is fetcht and spung'd into his head , Who then startes vp : from dreaming as he sayd , And crauing absence of all but this Saint , He gan to court her , but with a heart right faint . Bright starre of Phoebus , Goddesse of my thought , Behold thy Vassall , humbled on his knee : Behold for thee , what Gods and Art hath wrought , A man adoring , of Loue , the lowest degree : I loue , I honor thee : ( no more ) There stayde , As if forsworne : Euen so was he affrayde . Eurialae now spake ( yet seem'd in wonder ) Her lips when parting , heauen did ope his treasure , Oh do not , do not loue ; I will not sunder A heart in two , Loue hath nor height nor measure , Liue still a Virgin ; Then I le be thy louer , Heauen here did close : no toong could after moue her . As if in heauen he was rauish'd so , Oh Loue , oh Voice , oh Face , which is the glorie : Oh Day , oh Night , oh Age , oh worlds of Ioy , Of euery part true loue might write a storie , " Conuert my sighes , oh to some angells tongue , " To die for Loue is life , death is best young . She gone , Vrania came ; he on the flower , But sight of her reuiu'd this noble syre ; And as if Mars did thunder : words did shower , " ( Loue speakes in heate , when t is in most desire ) She made him mad , whose sight had him reuiu'de Now speaks he plainly : stormes past the aire is glide . Why was I made ? to beare such woe and griefe ? Why was I borne ? But in Loue to be norisht ? Why then for Loue ; Loue of all vertues chiefe , And I not pittied , though I be not cherisht ? What ? did my eyes offend in vertue seeing ? Oh no ; true vertue is the Louers being . " Beautie and vertue , are the twins of life , " Loue is the mother which them forth doth bring : " Wit with discretion ends the Louers strife , " Patience with silence is a glorious thing . " Loue crownes a man , loue giues to al due merit , " Men without loue , are bodies without spirit . " Loue to a mortall ; is both life and treasure , " Loue changd to wedlocke , doubleth in her glory , " Loue is the Iem , whose worth is without measure , " Fame dies , if not in tombe within Loues storie . " Man that liues , liues not , if he wants content , " Man that dies , dies not , if with Loues consent . Thus spake Daiphantus , and thus spake he well , Which wise Vrania well did vnderstand , So well she like it , As it did excell : Now grac'd she him , with her white slender hand . With words most sweet , A colour fresh and faire , In heauenly speech , she gan his woes declare . My good Daiphantus : Loue it is no toy , Cupid though blind , yet strikes the heart at last , His force you feele whose power must breed your ioy , This is the meede for scoffs you on him cast . You loue , who scorn'd : your loue with scorne is quite , You loue yet want , your loue with want is spight . " Loue playes the Wanton , where she meanes to kill , " Loue rides the Foole , and spurs without direction : " Loue weepes like you , yet laughs at your good wil : " Loue is of all things , but the true confection ; " Loue is of euery thing : yet it self 's but one thing : " Loue is any thing ; yet indeed is nothing . Wee Virgins know this ; ( though not the force of Loue ) For we two Sisters liue as in a Cell : Nor do we scorne it , though we it not approue , By Prayer we hope , her charmes for to repel . And thus adew : But you in Progresse goe , To finde fit place to warble forth your woe . " Who first seekes mercie , is the last for griefe : Thus did shee part ; whose Image stayd behind , He in a trance stands mute , finds no reliefe , ( For she was absent , whose tongue pleas'd his mind ) But like a hartlesse , & a hurtlesse Creature , In admiration of so sweet a Feature . At length look't vp ; his shaddow onely seeing , Sighs to himselfe and weeps ▪ yet silent stands , Kneels , riseth , walkes , all this without true being , Sure he was there ; though fettred in Loues-bands : " His lips departed ; Parted were his blisses , " Yet for pure Loue , each lip the other kisses . Reuiu'd by this , or else Imagination , Recalls things past , the time to come laments , Records his Loue , but with an acclamation , Repents himselfe , and all these Accidents : Now with the wings of Loue he gins to raise , His Loue to gaine , thus women he doth praise . ‛ Women than Men are purer creatures farre , ‛ The soule of soules , the blessed gift of Nature , 'To men a heauen , To men the brightest starre , ‛ The pearle that 's matchles ; high without al stature , ‛ So full of goodnes , that bounty waiteth still ‛ Vpon their trencher , feeds them with free-will . Where seeke we vertue , learne true Art or glory ? Where finde we ioy that lasteth , still is spending ? But in sweet women of mans life the Storie , " Alpha they are , Omega is their ending : Their vertues shine with such a sun of brightnes , " Yet he 's vnwise that looks in them for Lightnes . Oh let my Pen relate mine owne decay , There are , which are not ( or which should not be ) Some shap't like saints , whose steps are not the way : Oh , let my Verse , not name their infamie , " These hurt not all ; but euen the wandring eye , " Which fondly gapes for his owne miserie . These do not harme , the Honest or the Iust , The faithfull Louer , or the vertuous Dame : But those whose soules be onely giuen to Lust , Care more for pleasure , then for worthy Fame . But peace my Muse , for now me thinkes I heare , An Angels voyce come warbling in my eare . Not distant farre , within a Garden faire , The sweet ●rtesia sang vnto her Lute : Her voyce charmde Cupid , and perfumde the Aire , Made beasts stand still , and birds for to be mute . " Her voice & beauty prou'd so sad a ditty , Who saw was blind , who heard , soone sued for pitty . ( This Ladie was no Virgin , like the rest , Yet neare allied ; ) By Florence Cittie dwelling " Nature , and Art , within her both were blest , " ‡ Musicke in her , and Loue had his excelling : To visite her faire Cozens of she came , ‛ Perhaps more iocound , but no whit to blame . Fortune had crost her with a churlish Mate , ( Who Strymon hight ) A Palmer was his Syre : Full Nobly borne , And of a wealthy state , His sonne a childe , not borne to his desire . ‛ Thus was she crost , which caused her thereby , ‛ Daiphantus griefe to mourne by Simpathie . Daiphantus hearing such a Swan-tun'd voyce , Was rauisht , as with Angells Melodie , Though in this Laborinth blest , could not reioyce , Nor yet could see , what brought this Harmony . At length this Goddesse ceast ; began draw neare , ‛ Who when he saw , he saw not , t' was her spheare . Away then crept he , on his knees and hands , To hide himself , thoght Venus came to plauge him , Which she espying " like the Sunne she stands , " As with her beames , she thoght for to aswage him : " But like the Sun , which gaz'd on , blinds the eie , " So He by her , and so resou'ld to die . At this in wonder , softly did she pace it , Yet suddenly was stayd . His Verses ceaz'd her Which he late writ , forgot , thus was he grac't , She read them ouer , and the writing pleas'd her : ‛ For Cupid fram'd two Mottoes in her hart , ‛ The one as Dian's , the other for his Dart. " She read & pittied , reading pittie taught : " She Lou'd and hated , Hate to loue did turne : " She smilde & wep● , her weeping smiling brought : " She hop't & fear'd ; her hopes in feare did mourne : She read , lou'd , smil'd & hop't , but t was in vaine ; ‛ Her teares still dread ; & pitty , hate did gaine . ‛ She could haue lou'd him , such true verses making , ‛ She might haue lou'd him , and yet loue beguiling , ‛ She would haue kist him ▪ but fear'd his awaking , ‛ She might haue kist him , and sleep sweetly smiling . ‛ She thus afear'd , did feare what she most wished ; ‛ He thus in hope , still hop'd for that he missed . He lookte , They two , long each on other gazed , Sweet silence pleaded , what each other thought , Thus Loue and Fancie both alike amazed , As if their tongues and hearts had bin distraught . Artesias voyce , thus courted him at length , The more she spake the greater was his strength . Good gentle Sir , your Fortunes I bemone , And wish my state so happy as to ease you , But she that grieude you , She it is alone , Whose breath can cure , and whose kind words appease you , Were I that She ; heauen should my star extinguish , If you but lou'd me , ere I would relinquish . Yet noble Sir , I can no loue protest , For I am wedded , ( oh word full fraught with woe ) But in such manner , as good loue is blest , In honest kindnesse , I le not proue your foe : Mine owne experience doth my counsell proue , " I know to pittie , yet not care to loue . A Sister , yet nature hath giuen me A virgin true , right faire , and sweetly kind ; I● for her good , Fortune hath driuen me To be a comfort : your heart shall be her minde , My woes yet tells me , she is best a maide : And heere shee stopt her teares , her words thus staide . Daiphantus then in number without measure Began her praises which no Pen can end , Oh Saint , oh Sun of heauen and earth the treasure : Who liues if not thy honour to defend ? " Ah me , what mortall can be in loue so strange , " That wedding vertue will a whoring range ? She like the morning is still fresh and faire , The Elements of her , they all do borrow : The Earth , the Fire , the Waters , and the Ayre , There strength , heate , moisture , liuelines : no sorrow Can vertue change ? beauty hath but one place , The hearts still perfect ; though impald the face . Oh eyes , no eyes , but Stars still cleerly shining , Oh face , no face , but shape of Angells fashion : Oh lips , no lips , but blisse , by kisse refining , Oh heart , no heart , but of true loue right Passion , Oh eyes , face , lips , and heart , if not too cruell , To see , feele , tast , and loue , earths rarest Iewell . This said , he paus'd , new praises now deuising , Kneels to Apollo , for his skill and Art , When came the Ladies , At which he arising , Twixt lip , and lip , he had nor lips nor heart . ‛ His eyes , their eyes , so sweetly did incumber , Although awak't , yet in a golden slumber . Most like a Lion , rais'd from slumbring ease , He cast his lookes full grimly them among : ‛ At length , he firmly knit what might appease ‛ His Brow : lok't stedfastly and long ‛ At one : till all their eyes with his eyes met alike ‛ On faire Vitullia ; who his heart did strike . Vitullia faire , yet browne , So mixt together , As Art and Nature stroue , which was the purest : So sweet her smilings were , a grace to either , That heauens glorie in that face seem'd truest . " Venus excepted ; when the God her wooed , " Was ne're so faire , so tempting yet so good . ‛ Wonder not Mortalls , though all Poets saine , The Muses Graces were in this She 's fauour : ‛ Nor wonder , though he stroue his tongue to gaine , For I leese mine , in thinking of his labour . " Well may he loue , I write , & all wits praise her , " She 's so all humble ; Learning cannot raise her . ‛ Daiphantus oft sigh't Oh ; oft said faire , ‛ Then lookes , and sighes : and then cryes wonderfull ; ‛ Thus did he long : and truely t' was not rare ‛ The obiect was , which made his mind so dull . 'Pray pardon him ; for better to cry Oh , ‛ Then feele that passion which caused him sigh so . Now , all were silent , not alone this Louer : Till came Ismenio , Brother to this Saint , Whose haste made sweate , his tongue he could not proue her , For this aga'st him that his heart was saint : Thus all amaz'd ; none knowing any cause , " Ismenio breathlesse , here had time to pause . At length Ismenio , who had wit and skill , Question'd the reason of this strange effect : At last related ( Haste out went his will ) He told them , he was sent them to direct Where hunting sports their eyes should better please , Who first went foorth , Daiphantus most did ease . They gone , Daiphantus to his Standish hies , Thinkes in his writs Vitullia's beauties weare , But what he wrote , his Muse not iustifies , Bids him take time . " Loue badly writes in feare : Her worthy praise if he would truly wite , Her Kisses , Nector , must the same indite . ( Art and sweet nature , let your influence droppe From me like rayne ; Yes , yes , in golden showres : " ( Whose end is Vertue , let him neuer stoppe ) But fall on her like dewe on sprinkling flowers : That both together meeting , may beget An Orpheus , Two Iems in a soyle richly set . Thus Rauisht , then distracted as was deem'd , Not taught to write of Loue in this extreame , In Loue , in feare , yea , trembling as it seem'd , If praising her , he should not keepe the meane : Thus vext he wept , his teares intreated pittie , " ( But Loue vnconstant , tunes a wofull Dittie . Now kneels to Venus , Faithfulnesse protested , To this , none else , this was his onely Saint , Vow'd e're her seruice , Or to be arrested To Venus Censure ; Thus he left to faint : His Loue brought wit , & wit ingrendred Sprite , True loue and wit , thus learn'd him to indite . As the milde lambe , runs forth from shepheards fold , By rauenous Woolues is caught and made a praye : So is my Sence , by which Loue taketh hold , Tormented more then any tongue can saye : The difference is , they torturde so doe die , I feede the torment , breeds my miserie . ‛ Consum'd by her I liue , such is her glory , ‛ Despis'd of her I loue , I more adore her , I le ne're write ought , but of her vertues storie , " Beautie vnblasted is the eyes rich storer . If I should die ; Oh who would ring loues knell ? " Faint not Daiphantus , wise men loue not so well . Like Heauens Artist the Astronomer , Gazing on Starres oft , to the Earth doth fall , So I Daiphantus , now Loues Harbinger , Am quite condemned , to Loues Funerall : " Who falls by women , by them oft doth rise , " Ladyes haue lips to kisse as well as Eyes . But tush , thou foole , thou lou'st all thou seest , Who once thou louest , thou shouldst change her neuer Constant in Loue Daiphantus see thou beest , If thou hope comfort , Loue but once , and euer . Fortune , Oh , be so good to let me finde A Ladie liuing , of this constant minde . Oh , I would weare her , in my hearts heart-gore , And place her on the continent of starres : Thinke heauen and earth like her , had not one more , Would fight for her , till all my face were skarres . ‛ But if that women be such fickle Shee s , " Men may be like them in infirmities . Oh no ; Daiphantus , women are not so , T is but their shadowes ( Pictures meerly painted : Then turne poore louer , ( Oh heauen ) not to my wo Then to Vitullia : with that word he fainted , Yet she that wounds , did heale , like her no heauen " Ods in a man , a woman can make euen . Oh ( My ) Vitullia , let me write ( That ) downe , Oh sweete Vitullia ; nature made thee sweete , Oh kind Vitullia ; ( Truth hath the surest ground : I le weepe , or laugh , so that our hearts may meet : " Loue is not alwayes merry , nor still weeping , " A drop of each , Loues ioies are swets in sleeping ( Her name ) in golden letters on my brest I le graue , Around my temples in a garland weare , My art shall be , her fauour for to haue : My learning still , her honour high to reare , My lips shall cloze , but to her sacred name My tongue be silent , but to spread her Fame . In Woodes , Groaues , Hills , Vitullias name shall ring In Medowes , Orchiards , Gardens , sweetest & faire , I le learne the birds , her name alone to sing : All Quires shall chaunt it in a heauenly Aire , ‛ The Day shall be her Vsher ; Night her Page : ‛ Heauen her Pallace , and this Earth her stage . ‛ Virgins pure chastnes in her eyes shall be , ‛ Women , true loue from her true mind shall learne , ‛ Widdowes , their mourning in her face shall see , ‛ Children , their dutie in her speech discerne : And all of them in loue with each but I , Who feare her loue , will make me feare to die . ‛ My Orisons are still to please this creature , ‛ My vallour sleepes , but when she is defended : ‛ My wits still Iaded , but when I praise her feature , ‛ My life is hers ▪ In her begun , and ended . Oh happy day , wherein I weare not willow : Thrice blessed night ; wherin her brest 's my pillow . ‛ I le serue her , as the Mistresse of all pleasure , ‛ I le loue her , as the Goddesse of my soule : ‛ I le keepe her , as the Iewell of all treasure , ‛ I le liue with her ; yet out of loues controule : ‛ That all may know ; I will not from her part , ‛ I le double locke her , in my lips and heart . ‛ If ere I sigh , It shall be for her pittie , ‛ If ere I mourne , her Funerall drawes neare : ‛ If ere I sing : her vertue is the dittie , ‛ If ere I smile , her beautie is the spheare : ‛ All that I doe , is that I may admire her , ‛ All that I wish , is that I still desire her . But peace Daiphantus : Musicke is onely sweete , When without discord ; A Consort makes a heauen , The eare is rauisht , when true voyces meete , " Oddes , but in Musicke neuer makes things euen . In voyces difference , breeds a pleasant Dittie ; In loue , a difference brings a scornfull pittie . Whose was the tongue , Eurialae defended ? Whose was the wit , Vrania did praise ? Whose were the lips Artesias voice commended ? Whose was the hart , lou'd all , al crown'd with baies : Sure t' was my selfe ; what did I ? O I tremble , Yet I le not weep , wise men may loue dissemble . Fie no ; fond loue hath euer his reward , A Sea of teares , A world of sighes and grones : Ah me , Vitullia will haue no regard To ease my griefe , and cure me of my mones : If once her eare , should hearken to that voyce Relates my Fortunes in Loues fickle choyse . But now , I will their worth with her's declare , That Truth by Error , may haue her true beeing , " Things good , are lessned by the thing that 's rare , " Beautie increaseth , by a blacknesse seeing . ‛ Wo so is faire and chaste , they sure are best , ‛ Such is Vitullia , such are all the rest . ‛ But she is faire , and chaste , and wise , what then ? ‛ So are they all , without a difference : ‛ She 's faire , chaste , wise , and kinde , yes to all men , The rest are so : Number makes Excellence . ‛ She 's faire , chaste , wise , kind , rich , yet humble , ‛ They three her equall : " vertue can neuer stumble . ‛ Vtiullia is the Sunne , they starres of night , ‛ Yet night's the bosome wherin the Sun doth rest : ‛ The Moone her selfe borrowes of the Suns light , ‛ All by the starres take counsell to be blest , " The day's the Sunne : yet Cupid can it blind , " The stars at night : sleepe cures the troubled mind . ‛ She is a Rose , the fairer , so the sweeter , ‛ She is a Lute , whose belly tunes the Musicke , ‛ She is my Prose , yet makes me speake all Meeter , ‛ She is my life , yet sicknes me with Phisicke : ‛ She is a Virgin , that makes her a Iewell , ‛ She will not loue me , therein she is cruell . " Eurialae , is like sleepe when one is wearie ; " Vrania is like a golden slumber , " Artesias voyce , like dreames that makes man merry , " Vitullia , like a Bed , all these in comber . 1 Sleepe , 2 Slumber , 3 Dreames , vpon a 4 Bed is best , First , Second , Third , but in the Fourth is blest . Oh , but Vitullia , what ? She 's wonders prittie , Oh I , and what ? so is she very faire ; Oh yes , and what ? she 's like her selfe most wittie : And yet , what is she ? She is all but Aire . What can Earth be , but Earth ? so we are all , ‛ Peace then my Muse ; Opinion oft doth fall . ; Eurialae , I honour for humilitie , ‛ Vrania , I reuerence for her wit , ‛ Artesia , I adore for true agillitie , ‛ Three Graces for the Goddesses most fit : Each of these gifts are blessed in their faces , Oh , what 's Vitullia , who hath all these Graces ? She 's but a Ladie , So are all the rest , As pure , as sweet , as modest , yea as loyall ; Yes , She 's the shadow ( shadowes are the lest ) Which tells the houre of vertue by her Dyall : ‛ By her , men see there is on earth a heauen , ‛ By them , men know her vertues are match't euen In praysing all , much time he vainly spent , Yet thought none worthy but Vitullia ; Then cal'd to minde , he could not well repent The loue he bare the wise Vrania . Eurialae , Artesia , all , such beauties had , Which as they pleas'd him , made him well nigh mad . ‛ Eurialae , her beautie his eye-sight harmed , ‛ Vrania , her wit his tongue incensed , ‛ Artesia , her voyce , his eares had charmed , ‛ Thus poore Daiphantus , was with loue tormented . Vitullius beautie as he did impart , The others vertues vanquished his heart . At length he grew , as in an extasie Twixt loue and loue , whose beautie was the truer , His thoughts thus diuers as in a Lunacie , He starts and stares , to see whose was the purer : Oft treads a Maze , runs , suddenly then stayes , Thus with himselfe , himself makes many frayes . Now with his fingers , like a Barber snaps , Playes with the fire-pan , as it were a Lute , Vnties his shoe-strings , then his lips he laps , Whistles awhile , and thinkes it is a Flute : At length , a glasse presents it to his sight , Where well he acts , fond loue in passions right . His chin he strokes , sweares beardles men kisse best , His lips anoynts , sayes Ladyes vse such fashions , Spets on his Napkin ; termes that the Bathing Iest , Then on the dust , describes the Courtiers passion . Then humble cal's : though they do still aspire , " Ladies then fall , when Lords rise by Desire . Then stradling goes , saies Frenchmen feare no Beares Vowes he will trauaile , to the Siege of Brest , Swears Captaines , they doe all against the heare : Protests Tabacco , is A smoke-dride Iest , Takes vp his pen , for a Tabacco-pipe ; Thus all besmeard , each lip the other wipe . His breath , he thinkes the smoke ; his tongue a cole , Then calls for bottell-ale ; to quench his thirst : Runs to his Inke-pot , drinkes , then stops the hole , And thus growes madder , then he was at first . Tasso , he finds , by that of Hamlet , thinkes . Tearmes him a mad-man ; than of his Inkhorne drinks . Calls Players fooles , the foole he iudgeth wisest , Will learne them Action , out of Chaucers Pander : Proues of their Poets bawdes euen in the highest , Then drinkes a health ; and sweares it is no slander . Puts off his cloathes ; his shirt he onely weares , Much like mad - Hamlet ; thus as Passion teares . Who calls me forth from my distracted thought ? Oh Serberus , if thou , I prethy speake ? Reuenge if thou ? I was thy Riuall ought , In purple gores I le make the ghosts to reake : Vitullia , oh Vitullia , be thou still , I le haue reuenge , or harrow vp my will . I le fallow vp the wrinkles of the earth , Goe downe to Hell and knocke at Plutoes gate , I le turne the hilles to vallies : make a dearth ‛ Of vertuous honour to eternall Fate . I le beat the windes , & make the tydes keepe back , Reigne in the sea , That Louers haue no wrack . Yes , tell the Earth , it is a Murderer , Hath slayne Vitullia , oh , Vitullia's dead : I le count blinde Cupid for a Conjurer , And with wilde horses will I rend his head . I with a Pickax , will plucke out his braines , Laugh at this Boy , ease Louers of much paines . Oh then , I le flie , I le swim , yet stay ; and then I le ride the Moone , & make the cloudes my Horse , " Make me a Ladder of the heads of men , Clime vp to heauen : yes , my tongue will force To Gods and Angels ; Oh , I le neuer end , Till for Vituillia all my cryes I spend . Then like a spirit of pure Innocence , I le be all white , and yet behold I le cry Reuenge , Oh Louers this my sufferance , Or else for Loue , for Loue , a soule must die . Eurialae , Vrania , Artesia , Soe : Heart rent in sunder , with these words of woe . But soft , here comes : who comes ? and not calls out Of Rape and Murder , Loue and Villanie : " Stay wretched man , ( who runs ( doth neuer doubt It is thy Soule , thy Saint , thy Deitie : Then call the Birds to ring a mourning Knell , For mad Daiphantus , who doth loue so well . Oh sing a Song , parted in parcels three , I 'le beare the burthen still of all your griefe , " Who is all woe , can tune his miserie " To discontents , but not to his reliefe . Oh kisse her , kisse her , And yet do not do so : They bring some ioy , but with short ioyes long wo. Vpon his knees ; Oh Goddesses behold , A Caitife wretch bemoning his mishappe , If euer pittie , were hired without gold , Lament Daiphantus , once in Fortunes Lappe : Lament Daiphantus , whose good deeds now slumber , Lament a louer , whose wo no tongue can number . My woes : there did he stay , fell to the ground , Rightly diuided into blood and teares , As if those words had giuen a mortall wound , So lay he foming , with the waight of cares . Who this had seene , and seeing had not wept , Their hearts were sure from crosses euer kept . The Ladies all , who late from hunting came , Vntimely came , to view this Mappe of sorrow , Surely all wept , and sooth it was no shame , For , from his grief , the world might truly borrow . As he lay speechlesse , grou'ling , all vndrest , So they stood weeping , silence was their best . Ismenio with these Ladies bare a part , And much bemoan'de him , though he knew not why , But kinde compassion , strooke him to the heart , To see him mad : much better see one die . Thus walkes Ismenio ▪ and yet oft did pause : At length , A writing made him know the cause . He read , till words like thunder pierst his hart ; He sigh 't , till sorrow seem'd it selfe to mourne , He wept , till teares like ysacles did part , He pittied so , that pistle hare did scorne . He read to sigh , and weepe for pitties sake , The lesse he read , the lesse his heart did quake . At length resolu'd , he vp the writing takes , And to the Ladies trauells as with childe , The birth was Loue , ( such loue ( as discord makes ; The Midwife Patience , thus in words full mild● He writ with teares , that which with blood was writ , The more he read , the more they pittied it . They looke vpon Daiphantus , he not seeing , And wondred at him , but his sence was parted , They lou'd him much ; though little was his beeing , And sought to cure him , thogh he was faint harted : Ismenio thus , with speed resolues to ease him , By a sweet song , his Sister should appease him . Ismenio was resolu'd , he would be eased , And was resolu'd , of no meanes , but by Musicke , Which is so heauenly that it hath released The danger oft , not to be cur'd by Phisicke . Her tongue and hand , thus married together Could not but please him , who so loued either . But first before his madnesse were alayd , They offred Incence at Dianaes Shrine , And much besought her , now to be apayd : Which was soone granted to these Saints diuine . Yet so : that mad Daiphantus must agree , Neuer to loue , but liue in Chastitie . Thus they adjur'd him , by the Gods on high , Neuer hence foorth to shoote with Cupids Quiuer , Nor loue to feine ; for ther 's no remedie , If once relapst , then was he mad for euer : Tortur'd Daiphantus , now a signe did make , And kinde Ismenio , this did vndertake . Then gan Artesia play vpon her Lute , Whose voyce sang sweetly , now a mourning Ditty , " Loue her admir'd , thogh he that lou'd were mute , Cupid himselfe feard he should sue for pittie . Oh , wondrous vertue ! words spoken are but wind , But sung to prick-song , they are ioyes diuine . ‛ I heard her sing , but still methought I dreamed , ‛ I heard her play , but I me thought did sleepe , ‛ The Day and Night , till now were neuer weaned , ‛ Venus , and Dian rauisht ; both did weepe . ‛ They which each hated , now agreed to say , ‛ This was the Goddesse both of night and day . My heart and eares , so rauisht with her voyce , I still forgot , what still I heard her sing The tune : Surely of Sonnets this was all the choice , Poets do keepe it as a charming thing . ‛ What thinke you of the ioyes that Daiphantus had , ‛ When for such Musicke I would still be mad ? The Birdes came chirping to the windowes round , And so stood still , as if they rauisht weare , Beasts forth the forrest came , brought with the sound , The Lyon layd him downe as if in feare . The Fishes in fresh Riuers swam to shore , ‛ Yea , had not Nature stayd them , had done more . This was a sight , whose eyes had euer seene ? This was a voice , such musick nere was heard , This paradice was it , where who had bene ‛ Might well haue thought of hell and not afeard . Sure hell it selfe , was heauen in this spheare , ‛ Mad-men , wild beasts , & all , here tamed weare . Like as a King his chaire of state ascendeth , ( Being newly made a God vpon the earth : In stately amounts till step by step , be endeth , Thinkes it to heauen A true assending birth : So hies Daiphantus , on his legs and feete , As if Daiphantus , now some God should meete . He lookes vpon himselfe , not without wonder , He wonders at himselfe , what he might be : He laughes vnto himselfe , thinkes he 's a slumber , He weepes vnto himselfe , himselfe to see : And sure to heare and see what he had done , Might make him sweare , but now the world begun . Fully reuiued , at last Artesia ceast , When Beasts and Birds , so hideous noise did make That almost all turnd furie , feare was the least , Yea such a feare , as forc't them cry and quake . Till that Daiphantus , more of reason had , Then they which mon'd him , lately being mad . He with more ioy , than words could well declare , And with more words , than his new tongue could tell , Did striue to speake , such was his loue & care Thus to be thankfull : But yet knew not well , ‛ Whether his tongue , not tun'd vnto his hart , ‛ Or modest silence , would best act his part . But speake he will ; then giue attentiue eare To heare him tell a wofull Louers storie , His hands and eyes to heauen vp did he reare : Griefe taught him speech ; though he to speake were sorrie . But whatsoeuer be a Louers passion , Daiphantus speakes his , in a mourning fashion . As o're the Mountains walkes , the wandring soule Seeking for rest in his vnresting spirit , So good Daiphantus ( thinking to inroule Himselfe in grace , by telling of loues merit ) Was so distracted , how he should commend it , Where he began , he wished still to end it . Eurialae , my eyes are hers in right , Vrania , my tongue is as her dewe ▪ Artesia , my eares , to her I dight , My heart to each . And yet my heart to you : To you Vitullia , to you , and all the rest : Who once me cursed ; now to make me blest . 1 Beauty & 2 , wit did 1 wound & 2 pearce my heart , 3 Musicke and 4 Fauour 3 gain'd and 4 kept it sure : Loue lead by 3 Fancie to the 4 last I part , Loue lead by Reason to the first is truer . 3 Beautie and wit first conquered , made me yeild 3 Musicque & 4 Fauour , rescued , got the field . To 1 Wit and 2 Beautie , my first loue I giue , Musicke 3 & 4 Fauours , my second loue haue gaind , All made me mad : and all did me relieue : Though one recur'd me , when I was sustaind : Thus troth to say , to all I loue did owe , Therefore to all my loue I euer vowe . Thus to the first 1 & 2 his right hand he did tender , His left hand to the 3 & 4 last , most louingly , 4 : His tongue kind thankes , first to the last did render , The while his lookes were bent indifferently : Thus he salutes all , & to increase his Blisses , From lip , to lip , each Ladie now he kisses . Ismenio ( in humble wise salutes he ) With gracious language he returnes his heart , His words so sweetly to his tongue now sutes he , As what he spake , shew'd learning with good Art . Ismenio pleasde Daiphantus , Daiphantus all , " When loue , gaines loue , for loue ; this loue we cal Vrania now , bethought what was protested By yong Ismenio at Dianas shrine ; Coniur'd Daiphantus , That no more he Iested , With Loue or Fancie , for they were Diuine : And if he did , that there they all would pray , He still might liue in loue , both night and day . This greeu'd him much , but follie t was to grieue , His now obedience shew'd his owne freewill : He swore he would not loue ( in shewe ) atchieue , But liue a virgin , chast and spotlesse still . Which saide : such Musicke suddenly delighted , As all were rauisht , and yet all affrighted . Here parted all , not without Ioy and sadnes , Some wept , some smilde , a world it was to here them : Both springs heere met , woe heere was cloath'd with gladnes Heauen was their comfort , it alone did cheere them . Daiphantus from these springs , some fruit did gather , " Experience is an Infant , though an ancient father . Sweet Lady know " the soule lookes through our eye-sights , " Content liues not in shewes , or beauty seeing , " Peace not from nomber , nor strength in high spirits : " Ioy dies with vertue , yet liues in vertues being . " Beautie is maskt , where vertue is not hidden , " Man still desires that fruite he 's most forbidden . " Iewels for Vertue , not for beautie prizde , " What 's sildome seen breeds wonder , we admir'de it : " Kings Lines are rare ▪ and therefore well aduiz'de , " Wise-men not often talke , Fooles still desire it . " Women are books ( kept close ) they hold much treasure , " Vnclaspt : sweet ills : most woe lies hid in pleasure . " Who studies Arts alike , can he proue Doctor ? " Who surfets hardly liues ? Drunkards recouer : " Whose wils his law , that conscience needs no Proctor ; " When men turn beasts looke there for briutish Louers . " Those eies are pore-blind , looke equally on any , " Thought be a vertue to hinder one by many . " Who gains by trauel , leese lordships for their Manors , " Must Tarquin-rauish some ; Hell on that glory , " Whose life 's in Healths , death soonest gains those Banors , " Lust still is punisht , though treason write the storie . " A rowling eye , A Globe , new worlds discouer , " Who still wheels round , is But a damned Louer . " Doth Faith and Troth lye Bathing ? Is Lust pleasure ? " Can Commons be as sweete , as Land inclos'd ? " Then virgin sinne may well be counted pleasure , " Where such Lords rule , who liues not ill dispos'd ? " True Loue 's a Phoenix , but One vntill it dyes , " Lust is a Cockatrice , in all , but in her eyes . Here did he end , more blessed than his wishes . " ( Fame's at the high when Loue indights the Story : ) " The priuate life brings with it heauenly blisses . " Sweete Contemplation much increaseth glorie : I le leaue him to the learning of Loues Spell , " Better part friends , than follow Feends to hell . Ismenio , with Vitullia went together , Perhaps both wounded with blinde Cupids Dart , Yet dust they not relate their Loue to either , " ( Loue if once pittied pearceth to the Hart : But sure Vitullia , is so faire a Marke , Cupid would court her , though but by the darke . Artesia , she must goe ( the more she 's grieu'd ) To churlish Strymon , her adopted Mate , Cupid though blind , yet pittied and relieu'd , This modest Lady with some happie Fate : " For what but Vertue , which doth all good nourish , " Could brook her fortunes , much lesse loue & cherish Eurialae , with good Vrania stayd ▪ ‛ ( Where Vertue dwels they onely had their being ) " Beauty and wit still feare , are not dismayd , " For where they dwell , Loue euer will be prying . These two , were one , All good , each could impart , One was their Fortune , and one was their heart . ( " Beautie and Vertue , was true Friend to either , " Heauen is the spheare , where all men seeke for glorie : " Earth is the Graue , where sinners ioyne together , " Hell keepes the booke , inrowles each lustfull storie . " Liue as we will , death makes of all conclusion , " Die then to liue , or life is thy confusion . ‛ Beautie and wit in these , fed on affection , ‛ Labour and industry , were their Twins of life : ‛ Loue , and true Bounty , were in their subiction , ‛ Their Bodies with their spirits had no strife . Such were these two , As grace did them defend , Such are these two , As with these two I end . FINIS . Non Amori sed Virtuti .