I loved Eurydice, the brightest lass,
More fond to like so fair a nymph as she;
In Thessaly so bright none ever was,

But fair and constant hardly may agree:
False-hearted wife to him that loved thee well,
To leave thy love, and choose the prince of hell!

Theseus did help, and I in haste did hie

To Pluto, for the lass I loved so:

The god made grant, and who so glad as I?
I tuned my harp, and she and I 'gan go;
Glad that my love was left to me alone,
I looked back, Eurydice was gone:

She slipped aside, back to her latest love,

Unkind, she wronged her first and truest feere!
Thus women's loves delight, as trial proves
By false Eurydice I loved so dear,

To change and fleet, and every way to shrink,
To take in love, and lose it with a wink.

THE SONG OF ARION.

SEATED upon the crooked dolphin's back,
Scudding amidst the purple-coloured waves,
Gazing aloof for land; Neptune in black,
Attended with the Tritons as his slaves,
Threw forth such storms as made the air thick,
For grief his lady Thetis was so sick.

Such plaints he throbbed, as made the dolphin stay
Women, quoth he, are harbours of man's health,
Pleasures for night, and comforts for the day;

What are fair women but rich nature's wealth?

Thetis is such, and more if more may be;
Thetis is sick, then what may comfort me?

Women are sweets that salve men's sourest ills;
Women are saints, their virtues are so rare;
Obedient souls that seek to please men's wills;

Such love with faith, such jewels women are:
Thetis is such, and more if more may be;
Thetis is sick, then what may comfort me?

With that he dived into the coral waves,
To see his love, with all his watery slaves:
The dolphin swam; yet this I learned then,
Fair women are rich jewels unto men.

SONNET.

CUPID abroad was lated in the night,

His wings were wet with ranging in the rain:
Harbour he sought, to me he took his flight,
To dry his plumes: I heard the boy complain;
I oped the door, and granted his desire,
I rose myself, and made the wag a fire.

Looking more narrow by the fire's flame,
I spied his quiver hanging by his back:
Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame,
I would have gone for fear of further wrack;
But what I drad, did me poor wretch betide,
For forth he drew an arrow from his side.

He pierced the quick, and I began to start,
A pleasing wound, but that it was too high;
His shaft procured a sharp, yet sugared smart;
Away he flew, for why his wings were dry;
But left the arrow sticking in my breast,
That sore I grieved I welcomed such a guest.*

*

This sonnet, extended by the addition of an introductory stanza, will be found repeated, with a few verbal alterations, in a madrigal, post, p. 123.

FROM PENELOPE'S WEB.*

THE

SONNET FROM ARIOSTO.

HE sweet content that quiets angry thought,
The pleasing sound of household harmony.
The physic that allays what fury wrought,
The huswife's means to make true melody,
Is not with simple, harp, or worldly pelf,
But smoothly by submitting of herself.

Juno, the

queen and mistress of the sky, When angry Jove did threat her with a frown, Caused Ganymede for nectar fast to hie,

With pleasing face to wash such choler down;
For angry husbands find the soonest ease,
When sweet submission choler doth appease.

The laurel that impales the head with praise,
The gem that decks the breast of ivory,
The pearl that's orient in her silver rays,

The crown that honours dames with dignity;
No sapphire, gold, green bays, nor margarite,
But due obedience worketh this delight.

BARMENISSA'S SONG.

HE stately state that wise men count their good,

THE

The chiefest bliss that lulls asleep desire,

Is not descent from kings and princely blood,

Ne stately crown ambition doth require;

* Penelope's Web. Where, in a crystal mirror of feminine perfection represents to the view of every one, those virtues and graces which more euriously beautify the mind of women than either sumptuous apparel, or jewels of inestimable value; the one buying fame with honour, the other breeding a kind of delight, but with repentance. In three several discourses also are three special virtues, necessary to be

For birth by fortune is abasèd down,
And perils are comprised within a crown.

The sceptre and the glittering pomp of mace,
The head impaled with honour and renown,
The kingly throne, the seat and regal place,
Are toys that fade when angry fortune frown:
Content is far from such delights as those,
Whom woe and danger do envy as foes.

The cottage seated in the hollow dale,

That fortune never fears because so low, The quiet mind that want doth set to sale,

Sleeps safe when princes seats do overthrow: Want smiles secure, when princely thoughts do feel That fear and danger tread upon their heel.

Bless fortune thou whose frown hath wrought thy good,
Bid farewell to the crown that ends thy care;
The happy fates thy sorrows have withstood
By 'signing want and poverty thy share:
For now content, fond fortune to despite,
With patience 'lows thee quiet and delight.

VERSES.

ASPIRING thoughts led Phaeton amiss;

Proud Icarus did fall, he soared so high;
Seek not to climb with fond Semiramis,
Lest son revenge the father's injury:
Take heed, ambition is a sugared ill,

That fortune lays, presumptuous minds to spill.

incident in every virtuous woman, pithily discussed; namely, obedience, chastity, and silence; interlaced with three several and comical histories. By Robert Greene, Master of Arts in Cambridge. Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci. 1601.

The bitter grief that frets the quiet mind,
The sting that pricks the froward man to woe,
Is envy, which in honour seld we find,

And yet to honour sworn a secret foe:
Learn this of me, envy not others' state;
The fruits of envy are envy and hate.

The misty cloud that so eclipseth fame,
That gets reward a chaos of despite,
Is black revenge, which ever winneth shame,
A fury vile that's hatched in the night:
Beware, seek not revenge against thy foe,
Lest once revenge thy fortune overgo.

These blazing comets do foreshow mishap;
Let not the flaming lights offend thine eye:
Look ere thou leap, prevent an after clap;

These three forewarned well may'st thou fly:
If now by choice thou aim'st at happy health,
Eschew self-love, choose for the common-wealth.

FROM ARBASTO.*

SONG.

WHEREAT erewhile I wept, I laugh;

That which I feared, I now despise;

My victor once, my vassal is;

My foe constrained, my weal supplies:
Thus do I triumph on my foe;
I weep at weal, I laugh at woe.

* The History of Arbasto, King of Denmark. anatomy of Fortune, in his love to fair Doralicia.

Describing the Wherein gentle

men may find pleasant conceits to purge melancholy, and perfect