Joue, mad with loue, harkned not what she sayd,
His thoughts were so intangled with the mayd,
But furiously he to his palace lept,
Being minded there till morning to have slept.
For the next morne, as soone as Phoebus' rayes
Should yet shine coole, by reason of the seas,
And ere the parting teares of Thætis bed
Should be quite shak't from off his glittring head,
Astræa promised to attend great Ioue,
At his owne palace in the heauen aboue,
And at that palace she would set her hand
To what the loue-sick god should her command;
But to descend to earth she did deny,
She loath'd the sight of any mortall eye;
And for the compasse of the earthly round,
She would not set one foot vpon the ground.
Therefore Joue meant to rise but with the sunne,
Yet thought it long vntill the night was done.
In the meane space, Venus was drawne along By her white doues vnto the sweating throng Of hammering Black-smithes, at the lofty hill Of stately Etna, whose top burneth still; (For at that burning mountaynes glittring top, Her cripple husband, Vulcan, kept his shop.) To him she went, and so collogues that night, With the best straines of pleasures sweat delight, That, ere they parted, she made Vulcan sweare By dreadfull Stix, an othe the gods do feare, If Joue would make the mortall mayd a starre, Himselfe should frame his instruments of warre, And tooke his othe by blacke Cocitus Lake, He neuer more a thunderbolt would make; For Venus so this night his sences pleas'd, That now he thought his former griefs were eas'd. She with her hands the black-smith's body bound, And with her iu'ry armes she twyn'd him round,
And still the faire Queene, with a pretty grace,
Disperst her sweet breath o're his swarty face:
Her snowy armes so well she did display,
That Vulcan thought they melted as they lay.
Vntill the morne in this delight they lay,
Then vp they got, and hasted fast away
In the white chariot of the Queene of loue,
Towards the palace of great thundring Joue,
Where they did see diuine Astræa stand,
To passe her word for what Joue should command.
In limpt the Blacke-smith, after stept his Queene,
Whose light arrayment was of louely greene.
When they were in, Vulcan began to sweare
By othes that Jupiter himselfe doth feare,
If any whore in heauen's bright vault were seene
To dimme the shining of his beauteous Queene,
Each mortall man should the great gods disgrace,
And mocke almightie Joue vnto his face,
And Giants should enforce bright heauen to fall,
Ere he would frame one thunderbolt at all.
Joue did intreat him that he would forbeare:
The more he spoke, the more Vulcan sweare.
Joue heard his words, and 'gan to make his mone,
That mortall men would plucke him from his throne,
Or else he must incurre this plague, he said,
Quite to forgoe the pleasure of the mayd:
And once he thought, rather than lose her blisses,
Her heauenly sweets, her most delicious kisses,
Her soft embraces, and the amorous nights,
That he should often spend in her delights,
He would be quite thrown down by mortal hands,
From the blest place where his bright palace stands.
But afterwards he saw, with better sight,
He should be scorn'd by euery mortall wight,
If he should want his thunderbolts, to beate
Aspiring mortals from his glittering seate.
Therefore the god no more did woo or proue her, But left to seeke her loue, though not to loue her. Yet he forgot not that he woo'd the lasse,
But made her twise as beauteous as she was.
Because he wanted loue he needs would shew.
This haue I heard, but yet scarce thought it true;
And whether her cleare beautie was so bright,
That it could dazel the immortall sight
Of gods, and make them for her loue despaire,
I do not know, but sure the maid was faire.
Yet the faire Nymph was neuer seene resort
Vnto the sauage and the bloudy sport
Of chaste Diana, nor was euer wont
To bend a bow, nor euer did she hunt,
Nor euer did she striue, with pretie cunning,
To ouergoe her fellow Nymphs in running;
For she was the faire water-Nymph alone,
That vnto chaste Diana was vnknowne.
It is reported, that her fellows vs'd
To bid her (though the beauteous Nymph refus'd)
To take, or painted quivers or a dart,
And put her lazy idlenesse apart:
Nor tooke she painted quivers, nor a dart,
Nor put her lazy idlenesse apart,
But in her cristall fountaine oft she swimmes,
And oft she washes o're her snowy limmes.
Sometimes she comb'd her soft discheuel'd hayre,
Which with a fillet tide she oft did weare;
But sometimes loose she did it hang behind,
When she was pleas'd to grace the Easterne wind,
For vp and downe it would her tresses hurle,
And as she went, it made her loose hayre curle.
Oft in the water did she looke her face,
And oft she vs'd to practise what quaint grace
Might well become her, and what comely feature
Might be best fitting so diuine a creature.
Her skinne was with a thinne vaile ouerthrone,
Through which her naked beauty clearely shone.
She vs'd, in this light rayment as she was,
To spread her body on the dewy grasse:
Sometimes by her owne fountaine as she walkes,
She nips the flowres from off the fertile stalkes,
And with a garland of the sweating vine,
Sometimes she doth her beauteous front in-twine;
But she was gathring flowres with her white hand,
When she beheld Hermaphroditus stand
By her cleare fountaine, wondring at the sight,
That there was any brooke could be so bright:
For this was the bright riuer, where the boy
Did dye himselfe, that he could not enioy
Himselfe in pleasure, nor could taste the blisses
Of his owne melting and delicious kisses.
Here did she see him, and by Venus law
She did desire to haue him as she saw.
But the fayre Nymph had neuer seene the place
Where the boy was, nor his inchanting face,
But by an vncouth accident of loue
Betwixt great Phoebus and the sonne of Joue,
Light-headed Bacchus: for vpon a day,
As the boy-god was keeping on his way,
Bearing his vine leaues and his iuie bands
To Naxos, where his house and temple stands,
He saw the Nymph; and seeing, he did stay,
And threw his leaues and iuie bands away,
Thinking at first she was of heauenly birth,
Some goddesse that did liue vpon the earth,
Virgin Diana, that so louely shone
When she did court her sweet Endimion:
But he, a god, at last did plainely see,
She had no marke of immortallitie.
Vnto the Nymph went the young god of wine,
Whose head was chaf'd so with the bleeding vine,
That now, or feare or terrour had he none,
But 'gan to court her as she sat alone.
Fayrer then fayrest (thus began his speech)
Would but your radiant eye please to inrich
My eye with looking, or one glaunce to giue,
Whereby my other parts might feede and liue,
Or with one sight my sences to inspire,
Far liuelier then the stole Promethian fire;
Then might I liue, then by the sunny light
That should proceed from thy thrise-radiant sight,
I might suruiue to ages; but that missing,
(At that same word he would haue faine bin kissing)
I pine, fayre Nymph: O, never let me dye
For one poore glaunce from thy translucent eye,
Farre more transparent then the clearest brooke.
The Nymph was taken with his golden hooke;
Yet she turn'd backe, and would have tript away,
But Bacchus forc't the louely mayd to stay,
Asking her why she struggled to be gone,
Why such a Nymph should wish to be alone?
Heauen neuer made her faire, that she should vaunt
She kept all beautie, it would neuer graunt;
She should be borne so beauteous from her mother,
But to reflect her beauty on another:
Then with a sweet kisse cast thy beames on mee,
And Ile reflect them backe againe on thee.
At Naxos stands my Temple and my Shrine,
Where I do presse the lusty swelling Vine;
There with green iuie shall thy head be bound,
And with the red grape be incircled round;
There shall Silenus sing vnto thy praise,
His drunken reeling songs and tickling layes.
Come hither, gentle Nymph. Here blusht the maid,
And faine she would haue gone, but yet she staid. Bacchus perceiu'd he had o'recome the lasse, And down he throwes her in the dewy grasse, VOL. III.
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