Book VII, Chapter 37

MY Mistresse is a Paragon, the fayrest fayre aliue:
Atrides and Aeacides for faire lesse faire did striue.
Her colour fresh as Damaske Rose, her breath as Violet,
Her bodie white as Iuorie, as smooth as polisht Iet,
As soft as Downe, & were she down Ioue might come down & kisse
A Loue, so fresh, so sweet, so white, so smooth, so soft as this.
The Cleon[…]an Lions spoyles for her I would redresse.
I would the Lernan Hydras heads with sword and fire suppresse.
My force the Erymantheon Bore should brauely ouermatch.
The swift-foote golden horned Stag I, running, would or[…]catch.
My bow the Birds of Stymphalus from wastfull prayes should chace.
Of her proud Baldricke would I spoyle the Amazon at Thrace.
Augeas washed Stables should my seauenth Labour end.
I with the Bull of Calidon, victorious, would contend.
On horse-deuoured Diomede like honour should be wonne.
[…] Spanish Robber Geron should by me to death be done.
[…] […]p[…]ght of Spight in Hespera I golden fruit would pull.
Three-headed Cerberus in chaynes should make the Iury full,
B[…]ast, Snake, Bore, Stag, Birds, Bealt, Planks, Bull, Theefe, Frute, Dog, Diome[…]d,
[…]hokt, fear'd, p[…]uncht, cought, pearst, priz'd, washt, throwne, slaine, puld, chaned, horse[…] fead.
Were labours lesse than I would act, might I of her be spead.
D[…]ll mal-contented Saturne rulde the houre when I was borne:
Had Iupiter then starr'd I had not liued now forlorne:
Or Mars had steel'd my milkie heart with manlier moods than thees:
Or Mercurie had apted me to plead for Louers fees:
Or Sol infused sense to search what better me behou'd:
Or Venus made me louely, so for loue to be belou'd:
Or Luna (Contrary to Loue) had bettered the best:
Ah, could seauen Planets and twelue Signes constell one such vnrest?
Then lou'd that Sier of Gods when he had vow'd his childrens death:
That Sonne of his made wanton scapes with Lasses on the earth.
D[…]rus, aske Vulcan and his Arte if thou didst loue or noc.
And Hermes that he Herse lou'd will not disclaime I troe.
Nor w[…]art thou Phoebus chaste although thou wor'st a willow withe.
Thou Citherea hadst a leash of Loues besides the Smith.
End[…]ion gaynst Diana could vouch farther than the eye.
Thus lou'd ye all, ye churlish Starres, yeat let ye Louers dye.
This sayd he, and for this he sayd, I for the ruth of this
Did vow, that whoso once were mine I would be onely his.

Why? these his words did sauor wit, not one distraught (quoth he.)
Nay heare the rest of his vnrest, it followeth thus (quoth she).
Oft would he kisse a senceles Tree and say, sweet Mistresse mine,
I was, I am, and will be still the same and euer thine.
Beleeue me, or if so you doubt, Anatomize my braine,
And […]re my Senses see your selfe the Sourentesse to raigne.
Beleeue me, or if so you doubt, rip out my heart, and see
Your selfe in it, in it you are and euermore will be.
Beleeue me, or if so you doubt, commaund I forthwith dye,
And see your selfe the onely heauen whereto my soule doth flye.
If such I seeme and be not such, let nought betide me well.
If such I seeme and be not such, I wish no heauen but hell.
If such I seeme and be not such, your Fauours let me mis.
With that he blest himselfe and sayd, ah, what a wish was this?
Then steps he to some other Tree, and, as vnto a frend,
Bewayles himselfe, with long discourse of loue to little end.
And (as it were a mysterie) thus many a time would tell
Of one Erickmon, as might seeme, with him acquainted well.
Who would (quoth he) haue thought that he had doted on a Lasses
Who rather would haue thought the Girle so gilefull as she was?
Once brau'd he it and often found with silken Wenches grace:
Yeat (and I wonder) faults he not, though hauing time and place.
He neuer hild but gracious thoughts of women, yeat I winne
The fayrest She he euer saw might quit his thoughts of sinne.
When of the Court and Citie both he could sufficient say,
From eithers busie Vanities he getteth him away:
Amongst the woods his happiest dayes by-come or to be past
He found, had not Gynettas face intrapped him at last.
Nor Court nor Citie had she seene, yeat eithers prayse she had:
So much more worth by howe much lesse she was vnnicely clad.
At sixteene yeares such was she as at Twentie, and at boeth
Well worth the louing, for her loore, her face, and comely groeth.
Thence, waxing amorous, he checkt his eyes that checkt him so,
Which checks as oft were countercheckt by Loue his mightier Fo[…].
He loath'd to liue, that liu'd to loue, and lou'd to losse, for why?
He scorn'd that wontlesse passion, or an amorous Foole to dye.
Full often therefore would he balke her sight that pleas'd him most,
And, if perceau'd to be in loue, false freedome would he boast.
But all for nought, not absence or sweete exercise of wit,
Or ought besides might put aside Loues ouer-mastring fit.
Thus pyned ere he pleadeth loue, yeat pleasing her so well
As none had fitter time and place his hearts vnrest to tell,
At length he flatly sayes he loues, when (words too sweet for trew)
Her answere was she liked him, and so attonement grew.
Then vncontroulled kisses and imbracings (often mixt
With lesse than loue too grosse, though more than should be such betwixt)
Were currant: And if euer man did fish before the net,
If euer man might credit her did by her credit set,
If euer man for heartie loue deserued honest meede,
Erickmon might beleeue himselfe to be belou'd indeede:
More arguments of earnest loue gaue neuer Mayde than she,
Lesse cause to falsifie that loue gaue neuer Man than he.
How beit, on aduantage play'd Gynetta all this while,
And by externall smoothnes did obscure internall guile.
There was a Swayne, a wylie wagge, that with his apish toyes,
His Pedlarie, and pype-notes, such as pleaseth girles and boyes,
So chang'd (I would haue sayd bewitcht, but that she often chang'd)
Gynetta, that her former loue was sodaynly estrang'd.
Erickmon hardly brok't such bace coryuing of the Swayne,
And of her loue and wits did wish reducement all in vayne.
Was neuer Girle so ouergon that had so good a wit,
So well reported of ere then, and well deseruing it,
Than was Gynetta: giltie then both of her owne reproofe
And of her Louers griefe, that sate and sighte thereat aloofe.
And, were it not that she was young, and that Erickmon knew
She rather seem'd than sin'd in deede, he might haue err'd in view.
With weeping heart he her remaunds to be with him at-one:
And many restlesse daies and nights consumeth he in mone,
To thinke vpon her madnes, which her selfe beleeued none.
Her too much wronged Relict might (as wel he might) be greeu'd,
Perhaps offended, but God knowes no whit the more beleeu'd.
So wilfull she, so wylie and officious was her Squier,
That, craft intrapping craft, they both did enter bootles fier:
She bore a mind more haughtie than to humble her so much,
And he a bacer minde than that he hop't his fortune such:
Yeat either lik't at randon, not resoluing any end,
Vnlesse, perhaps, she dallied him as erst her former srend.
Meane while (for Apes be euer Apes) somwhat did he not well
That mou'd a discord, and through it their loues deuorse befell.
Erickmon languisht all this while not re-beloued long,
For shee that sayl'd to doe him right did feofe on him the wrong,
Who, giltles, pleadeth giltie (for what was it he would not
To reconcile her fauour, lost might seeme ere it was got?)
So loue, againe a foote, gaue both re-intertainement hot.
Not any, lou'd they nere so much, seem'd more to loue than they,
Nor any, lou'd she any whit, in loue made shorter stay
Than shee: for he doe what he could, did often times offend:
For why? euen impudently she grew toyous in the end,
That was so modest comly erst as none might lier amend,
A Supersedeas for her loue was euery new-come frend:
And being now in much request, and waxing proud of fauour,
By artificiall pryde she chang'd her naturall behauour:
Her face was Maskt, her locks were […]url'd, her bodie pent with buske,
And (which was needles, she more sweet) her rayment sented Muske:
By all she did might seeme to be vnlike her selfe she me[…]:
Yeat (worst of all) to sanctum-Sinne too aptly is she bent:
Erickmon when that followed her vnpitied, not v[…]pearst,
Reform'd his wits, his sute and hope of her, not now as earst,
And scornd her mind that scornd his loue to her so firmly geason,
For why[…]shee offred double wrong to wrong and scorne a reason.
Thus whilst he hopt he hild her least: so altereth the ca[…]e
With such as she: Ah such it is to build on such a face.
This sayd he, and for this he sayd, I for the ruth of this
Did vowe that who so once were mine I would be onely his.

Why? this concern'd not him, nor shewd a mā distraught, (quoth he)
Nay heare the rest of his vnrest, it followeth thus (quoth shee.)
Then (sheading teares) he to the Tree so spoken to would say,
Was not Gynetta false that did Erickmon so betray?
But hath my Mistresse cause to change? what cause, thinke you, should moue[…]
I fram'd me hers, she fayn'd her mine, my loue is euer loue.
May ye faire face proue one foule botch, those shining eies proue bleard
That sweete breath stench, like proofe to all that faire or sweete appeard
In her that wrongs her true-loue: let her loathed euer lust,
Begge may she, and vnpittied pine, rot, perish on the dust,
And, dead, be damned, that vnto her true-loue is vniust.
Yee men say all Amen, or if amend your selues ye must,
Curse not (this Mad-man sayd) but sweare that women be vntrew,
Their loue is but a Mummerie, or as an Aprils dew,
Got with a toy, gon with a toy: gifts, flattrie, gawdes, or wine
Will make her checke & flie to game lesse faire, perhaps, than thine,
More amorous than men, and men conuay their loue lesse fine.
If such they are (as such they are) and will be whilst they be,
Why am I then so true of loue? because not borne a she.
Witlackst thou then (fond Foole). I sigh to say true ayme you giue.
Wheare grew that lacke (fond Foole?) I sigh to say wheare now I liue.
Whence grew that lacke (fond Foole?) I sigh to say frō ioyes remou'd.
When grew that lacke (fond Foole?) I sigh to say when first I lou'd.
And doest thou loue? ah, too too well I wot I loue indeede.
Why doest thou loue? with lucke too ill I loue for louers meede.
Whome dosst thou loue? ah, too too well I wot a louely She.
What time in loue? with lucke too ill in loue too long for me.
Wit lackst thou then that wilfully doest erre and nourish it.
Wit doe I lacke, not wilfully, then blame not will but wit.
How shall I doe? my Heart is lost, and I am left in woe:
Met any man a poore tame Heart? the Heart, good Folke, I owe:
Strucken, maimed, all of gore, and drouping doth it goe.
A Lasse once fauour'd, or at least did seeme to fauour it,
And fosterd vp my frollicke Heart with many a pleasing bit:
She lodg'd him neere her Bower, whence he loued not to gad,
But waxed cranke, for why? no Heart a sweeter Layer had.
But whether that some other Deere estranged her or not,
Or that of course her game is Change, my Heart lackt brouse I wot:
Despysd, displeasde, and quite disgrac'st, my Heart euen to this day
Dislodged, wandring, woe begon, I wot not wheare doth stray.
But see, ah see, I see how Loue casts off Desire his Hound,
A fell fleet Dogge that hunts my Heart by parsee each-wheare found.
Sweet Cynthea rate the eger Curte, and so thy foe preuent:
For loe a farre my chased Heart imboste and almost spent.
Thankes, gentle Goddesse: now the Lad pursues a bootles chace:
My Heart recouers Couert wheare the Hound cannot hold pace.
Now tappas closely, silly Heart, vnrowse not and so liue:
The Huntsmans-self is blinde, the Hound at Losse doth ouer-giue.
But list, alas, Loues Beagles be vncoupeld, Beautie praites
And driues my Heart from out the thicks, and at Recei[…] awaites
Vaine-hope, and either now falls in, and now my Heart must dye,
Now haue they him at Bay, and now in vayne he fights to flye.
Auaunt Desire, ha Curre, auaunt: the Bore so rase thy hyde.
Vnto the fall of my poore Heart see see how Loue doth ryde.
Hearke how he blowes his death: ah see, he now the Say doth take
Of my poore Heart, that neuer more for Loue shall pastime make.
Thus liu'd he till he left his life, and for the ruth of this
I vow'd, that who so once were mine I would be only his.

Yeat (sayd her Sutor) he, not she, was punisht, as may seeme.
Yes yes, quoth she, a Conscience prickt is deeply plagu'd I deeme.
Then Scotland warr'd on England, and in that same wa[…]re did end
The Knight that had coryued: so the Ladie lost each frend.
Oft saw I her in teares, and oft I heard her to complayne
For faith erst lost, for losse now sound, deuiding […]ghs in twayne.
There be that say (if truely sayd) vnbodied Soules haue walkt,
And of the Ghosts of these two Knights the like abroad was talkt:
Her eares had this and shee the heart that dared not her eyes,
For thether whence the brute did grow she (feareles faultie) hies:
Her Followers stood aloofe when she, alone approaching, sayd,
Beloued both, what meanes this fight? (they seem'd as if they srayd)
Ah, pardon me, sweet First-belou'd, my guile I graunt was great,
So is my griefe: My latter Loue refraine, let me intreate.
But whilst she spoke of deadly wounds they both did seeme to fall,
And after vanisht, leauing her perplext in feare not small:
Who thenceforth fared as the Knight that did for her distraught,
Stil haunted of the Ghosts, & haunts ye place where they had faught,
Vntill of her despayring life her selfe the Period wraught.
Thus liu'd she till she left her life, and for the ruth of this
I vow'd, that who so once were mine I would be onely his.

Tush, this was but a Phantasie, quoth he, of subtill Feends,
Deluding her simplicitie in figure of her frends:
I heare not that they said or did aught taching her vntruth,
But foolish was her feare, the like I censure of your ruth.
And shall I tell what they did tell, and say what they did doe?
I will, for so, perhaps, you will surcease (quoth she) to wowe.
The Ghost resembling him to whom she had disloyall bin
Sayd: I, and This, and thou be thus and shal be doom'd for sin:
For dotage in my loue, for his deceitfull lust, wetwaine
Of freesh-sore wounds do hourely faint, hurt, heale, heale, hurt againe:
Nor can I vtter halfe we see, and feare, and suffer still
Of endles Torments: onely thou art Auctresse of such ill.
Who loue belou'd beleeue no life but wheare their loue doth liue,
To fault is then their murdrous fact that first defect doth giue.
He had not faulted or I falne hadst thou hild faith to mee:
Ah little feele we in regard of Plagues prepar'd for thee.
Thus sayd he, and for thus he sayd I for the ruth of this
Did vow, that who so once were mine I would be onely his.

Well, Madame, quoth the Gentleman, be this so, or a shift,
I see to frustrate my demaund is honestly your drift:
Then so, or not so, or what so you shall inferre of this
It matters not, Perkin is yours and be you onely his.
For, sooth to say, weare all saide false, it were indeed a hell
To haue a Loues-Coryuall, and as none could brooke it well,
So none should aske, and none should yeeld to alter loue begun,
Therefore, sweet Ladie, I conclude such il is well vndun:
Mine amorous sute hath here an end: and would you might preuaile
With Perken too, that proudly striues to beare too high a sayle:
So may you, if perhaps you haue for him so apta tayle
As this you tould to me for mee, although more hardly trew
As this which I shall tell, that doth include a morall view
Of matter worth the note for him, the rather tould by you:
Then heare it: for our leisure and the order of my Q[…]