MƲSAEƲS, ON THE LOVES Of HERO AND LEANDER: With Annotations upon the Originall. By Sir Robert Stapylton KNIGHT, Gentleman of the PRIVIE CHAMBER to the PRINCE.

Musaeum ante Omnes.
Virg.

LONDON, Printed by F. B. for Humphrey Mosley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Princes Armes in Saint Pauls Church Yard 1647.

The Argument of the Poëm and Frontispice.

Fam'd ( a) Sestos and ( b) Abydos show
The Miracles of Cupid's ( c) Bow,
His Mother's Priestesse through her Tower
Is ( d) shot, and now obeys his Power;
Wax that on th' Altar should have burn'd,
Into a ( e) Torch by ( f) Hero turn'd,
Shines on the ( g) Hellespont, to light
( h) Leander, swimming ore by night:
While she her ( i) sacred Robe design'd
To keep off every single-wind;
But when they joyne, in vaine she strives;
Out goes the Lover's Torch and Lives.
[figure]

MUSAEVS on The Loves of HERO & LEANDER. With Annotations upon the Originall by S r Robert Stapyston K t. Gent: of y e Privy Chamber to the PRINCE

To the Right Honourable My very good LORD, HENRY LORD Marquesse of Dorchester, Earle of KINGSTON, &c. AND One of the Lords of His MAIESTIES Most Honourable Privie Counsell.

My LORD;

THe secret love of Hero and Lean­der first brought to light in the pure Greek of di­vine Musaeus, was afterward [Page] new moulded in Latin by the fluent Ovid; in imitation of whose Epistles, the most emi­nent Poëts of all Climates have (in their native languages) written upon this subject so many Paraphrases and Es­sayes, that like the numerous streames of Nile, they al­most overflow the remem­brance of their Fountaine. I confesse the report of Poëms borrowed from Musaeus made so great a noyse, that to mee the Authour had beene lost in the crowd of Imita­tours, [Page] if I had not heard his soft lines sweetned by your Lordship's accent; but then I could not be satisfied till I made triall how the Greeke would go in English: my in­tent being to translate and de­dicate it privately to your Lordship. The Translation was forthwith dispatched, the Dedication is now presented, but the intended Privacy lay not in my power; for my ac­quaintance (who would know what I was doing) had in­gaged me for so many Copies, [Page] that I held it my safest course, rather to venture upon the Printers pardonable errours, then to runne the hazzard of grosse mistakes in ignorant Transcribers. Yet, as I could not make it altogether private, so I meant it should not be al­together publique, and there­fore at first I suffered no more to be printed, then the just num­ber promised. But now, find­ing so many freinds as challeng not a few copies but a whole Impression. I am forced to answer them, as Pisistratus [Page] did his sons, that I have done my best to convert them to my Opinion, but since I cannot pre­vaile, I am resolved to be of theirs; and for their sakes, what I writ for my private ex­cercise, shal be exposed to com­mon censure, yet among the crowd of Readers if some pre­tending Critick shall assault me, I shall smile to see him retire with double speed, beholding the name of the illustrious and learned person that priviledges

Your Lordship's most humble servant, ROBERT STAPYLTON.

To the Ladies.

YOur Ladyships may par­don mee, for presuming that you will lay up Mu­saeus in your richest Cabinets. I confesse it is a Confi­dence, but such a one, as hee that wants it, must bee guilty of an Im­pudence, for hee must either deny the Harmony of this Poëm, or of your Spirits. Whereas my Opinion is, like perfections cannot meet without a Sympathy. And there­fore I conclude it as impossible, for [Page] Musaeus to breath his Passions in your Clossets, and you not to feele them in your Bosomes: as it is for two of your Lutes to bee set at the same Pitch, and not both to move, though but one of them he toucht.

But of late under the counter­feit name of Love, such a vast Mul­titude of Wanton Bookes have been brought to kiss, or rather soyle, the handes of Ladies: that I feare you will be startled at the Title of a Love-Poëm, yet so Musaeus calls his He­ro and Leander. To cleare all scru­ple, let me assure your Ladyships, the pure and innocent Love this Po­ëm treats of, is consistent both with Yours and the Time's Mo­desty. For Courtship here is di­rected to a Sacred end, and onely [Page] invites you after our Deluge of bloud, like Deucalion's Wife after his Deluge of water, to restore your now unpeopled Country. Yet if the Time's necessity required it not, however it would be a strang Injustice, to barre your Sex from being Patro­nesses to that Power, by which you raigne over the hearts of Men.

Next your Prerogative, give me leave to plead my Author's Pri­viledge, who (as I formerly intima­ted) challenges as due to his first of Love-Stories, the first place in your esteeme, which I doubt not but your Ladyships will as freely grant him in those blessed fields your Bosomes, as Virgil gave it him in his Elizium. Otherwise how preposterous would the Herauldry of Entertainments be, [Page] if you should still doe honour to the meaner Ofspring of this Poëm: and in the meane time throw a neg­lect upon the Mother; so great a Beau­ty, as no Age can hopc to parallel. For certainly if this Peece could ever have been matcht, it must needs have been when Ovid held a Pencill, and en­deavoured to draw the same Hero and Leander; the Epistles he fancy­ed them to enterchange, I have here annexed to their Originall Historie: that you may see two, the greatest Masters of Greek and Latin Poësy, using their Art upon one Subject, and appealing to your judgement, in your own language.

How I have taught them to speak English, is likewise most proper for your Ladyships Determination; [Page] from whose lips English sounds sweeter then both their learned languages. And if you please to give me your al­lowance, I care not much what surly Clown dislikes me. Although indeed, I have so high an Opinion of Musaeus in the first place, and in the next of O­vid, that I perswade my selfe they could arrive upon no Coast so barba­rous, where they would not gain a civi­lity from the Wild Inhabitants, if they spake to them, though by as rude an Interpreter as your servant the Translator.

TO The Gentlemen.

IF you expect an account of the Author's Life, how sorry I am, that 'tis not in my power to answer your desires, though at the rate of any Search or Industry. For you could not read of Musaeus with more contentment, then I should have writ. But all Inquiry is in vaine, no Re­cord extant how he lived, no Tomb where he dyed.

—perit omne cadaver
More animae—

Only there remaines this eternall Monu­ment of his Studyes. Of his Name were foure famous Poëts. The first, Musaeus the [Page] Eleuisinian. The second was Grandchild to the first, and writ [...] The Ge­nealogies of the Gods. The third, a Lyrick Poet, lived at Thebes before the Trojan War. The fourth, after the death of Alex­ander the Great, dwelt at Ephesus, and writ of Eumenes and Attalus. But of this [...] The Loves of Hero and Lean­der, no mention is made by any of the old Greek Criticks: though Censurers are like Informers, that notwithstanding they know a man guiltless, will yet bring his name up­on the Stage. We find likewise (but of a lat­ter date) a Philosopher and a Grammarian of his Name. And out of all these (induced thereto by that silence of the ancient Criticks, together with the title in Sophianus [...]) Causabon thought Musaeus the Grammarian, Authour of this Poëm. For my part I dare not affirme any of them to be the Musaeus, that writ Hero and Lean­der: but this I dare boldly say, whosoever writ it, had the gifts and endowments of them all. For his language might have become Musaeus the Grammarian, his knowledge [Page] in pasions and affections, Musaeus the Phi­losopher: and the divinity of his verses, the First and Great Musaeus, that dedicated his Hymne [...] of God to Orpheus. But least you should suspect I am writing a Panegyrick on Musaeus, I will shut up my praise of him, with the testimony of the Master-Critick Iulius Caesar Scaliger, in the fift Booke and the fift Chapter of his Critick where he gives this Judgement.

I ho [...] [...]us to write a much neater and more polisht stile then Homer. For as all his lines are incomparable, and the only Greek verses worthy Virgil: so part of them are of such a compositi­on, as cannot be owned by any of his Nation, but Musaeus. Virgil therefore crowned not Homer, nor Orpheus, but made Musaeus Prince of the Elysian Poëts. In the verses of Musaeus you see no ex­orbitancy, but every thing exactly done, scare a flaw imaginable. But if Musaeus had writ what Homer did, our judgement is, he would have writ it better far.

OF SESTOS and ABYDOS.

WHen you read in Musaeus, that Hero was born at Se­stos, and Leander at Abydos: you are then fully informed of the great­est honour those Cities ever had. But for as much as I suppose you will gladly heare of other though lesse actions done upon the place, I shall give you a descrip­tion thereof, with all the memorable parti­culars, which I have either noted in good Authors, or can (at present) call to mind.

Sestos, famous for the entercourse of a great love (so Pomponius Mela stiles it) lyes in the 42. degree of Northern latitude, on the Sea-Coast of Thrace in Europe, diametrally opposite to Abydos in Asia, a City built (as Strabo sayes) for the Mi­lesians, by permission of Gyges King of Lydia, then Lord of all the signiory of [Page] Troas, or Asia the lesse. Betwixt Sestos and and Abydos flowes the Hellespontick Sea, not above a Mile broad, if we trust Xene­phon's account; but wanting a Furlong of a Mile, if we believe Pliny in his Na­turall History. These two Cities, divided by nature, the great King of Persia Xerxes joyned together with a Bridge of Boates, over which he passed his vast Army, de­signed for the Conquest of Greece, consist­ing of seaventeene hundred millions of foote, and eighty millions of horse, ac­cording to Herodotus. Such a moving world might easily drinke the river of Scaman­der dry. Justin is of opinion, the num­ber hee himselfe mentions might have done it, yet hee but musters them at 700000. Persians, and 300000. Auxilia­ries, with a Fleet of 200000. Saile. But to all this Army there wanted a Generall. For if you consider the King, you will not admire his Conduct, but his wealth: which did so abound in his Dominions, that although the Rivers were exhausted, yet his Treasury was full. But he him­selfe [Page] was still noted, to be the first that fled, and the last that fought, fearefull in dangers, and if his fit of feare left him, blowne up with pride. Before he had the experience of a Warre, he was so confi­dent of his strength, that as LORD of Nature, he levelled Mountaines, fil­led up Vallies, and some Seas hee co­vered with Bridges, others (for the bene­fit of his Fleet) he cut in a straight line; Whose comming into Greece was not so terrible, but his departure was as base and foule. To this Justin addes, That when Themistocles had got him by stratagem to give the signall of Battaile at Salamin, Xerxes himselfe kept aloofe off, with part of his Fleet, standing as a Spectator, while Queene Artemisia charged among his formost Auxiliaries. For as a womanish feare possessed the man, so you might be▪ hold in the woman a manly courage, And when by a second stratagem, Themistocles had frighted him out of Greece, Xerxes (finding his Bridge of Boates scattered by the stormy winter) shaking and trembling [Page] went aboard a Fisher-boate, and so escaped. A strange spectacle, rare in consideration of humane frailty and the turns of things, to see him skulking in a Fisherman, whom the Ocean a little before had scarce Sea­roome enough to entertaine; and now not waited on by any servant, whose Army for the multitude was a burden to the Earth. Here you see how Xerxes appeares in History, passing from Abydos to Sestos (as Lord of Nature) over the boarded Helle­spont, but returning from Sestos to Abydos (as the slave of Fortune) in a poore boate alone. Yet in regard there never was a greater Example of the instability of world­ly Honour, I hope you will not think time ill spent, if I shew you how he appeares in Poesy, whipping the Wind, and fetter­ing of the Sea, for breaking his wooden bridge: till the hand of Providence whipt his Pride, and fettered his Ambition, for a warning to the Insolent. They are the words of the Prince of Satyrists, Juvenall, Sat. 10.

—Creditur olim
velificatus Athos &c.
We may beleeve, what was beleev'd of old,
That Ships put in at Athos, and (what bold
And lying Greece on History impos'd)
Xerxes that Mountain with his Fleet inclos'd;
That ore the solid Sea by Coach he past,
Drank up whole Rivers when he brake his fast:
And all that, hovering with her drunken wings,
The Muse of Sostratus the Poet sings.
But how from Salamin return'd he shipt,
Whose barbarous pride the East & Northwest whipt,
Never in Aeolus his Iayle so pay'd,
Who fetters on th'Earth-shaker Neptune lay'd,
And 'twas done gently that he spar'd his Brand;
What God would not serve under his Command?
But how return'd he? in a Bark he sled,
Sayling through blood, retarded by the dead,
Whose bodies to arrest his flight did swim.
Thus, so much courted Glory punisht him.

But least I trench too much upon your Patience, I will now passe from old Sestos and Abydos, to a description of those [Page] Towers of Love, as they are at this day rebuilt and fortified by the Grand Signior, and their Plat-formes given us by Michael Heberer in a Treatise that beares the name of his Aegyptian Bondage. Lib. 11. cap. 29. Then from the Ile of Tenedos and the Tro­jan Coast, we came to those Straits of the Sea, which they call the Helles-pont: whose entrance is guarded by two gallant Towers, one of which is called Sestos, ly­ing on Europe-side, at the foote of a hill, appearing to us in the forme of a Triangle. Towards the sea (hanging over the water) we saw seven and twenty great Cannon planted to command the Landing place, besides the other pieces of Ordnance that are round about the Walls and Tow­ers. In the middle of this Fort stands a goodly quadrangular Tower, encompassed with three distinct Pergula's or Tarrasses, that shew like three-leaf'd Grass, out of which they may easily beat back the danger of a Storme. In full diameter to this Tower of Sestos, stands the strong Castle of Abydos, on the Coast of A­sia, [Page] now called Nat [...]lia, scituate in a plain, and surrounded with deep trenches: this Fort is Quadrangular, and environed with a triple Tower towards the Sea. In the middle stands a noble and conspicu­ous Square that commands the rest. From sea, the prospect betwixt the Walls and Trenches lookes like an open Court, and terminates at a cross-wall built of solid stone, and planted thick with Cannon to scoure the Port. At the middle Tower is a Draw-bridg over the Ditch, that passes into a faire green Area, adorn'd with divers trees and a cleare spring for the benefit of the Garrison. Not far from this Fort lyes a little village, whose Inha­bitants are most of them Greeks, and they supply the Travelour with necessaries. Thus Mich. Heberer, of the new Sestos and Abydos, now in possession of the Turk, that calls them Bogasaffer. It re­maines, that I tell how they came into his hands, and so I shall conclude my dis­course. It was the same veine of Love, that the sometime-neighbour to the place [Page] faire Hero had (but running with degene­rate blood) which delivered up the Fort of Abydos to the Enemy of Christendome by the hand of a Christian Lady, daughter to the Governour of Abydos, who being frigh­ted in her Dreame, with falling into a deep foule ditch; either the accident of her sleeping fancy, or her accustomary waking desires, represented to her a handsome young Souldier, that with great civility helped her up, and instead of her cloaths spoyled with the dirt, presented her with a rich Garment, such as the Eastern Princes cast upon their Favorites. The Gentleman's Image made a deepe impression in the Lady's tender breast, so that she now dreamed of him waking. Till at length old Accecozza the Turk's Generall, layes siedg to the Castle, and the young Lady (being all ayre, and desirous of every new sight) stands upon a Tower to take the pleasure of beholding the continuall skir­mishes and pickeering, while the gallant Turke young Abduruchman, made his ap­proaches to the Fort, so valiantly, that be­yond [Page] his expectation, he took in the Lady's heart, who makes her selfe beleeve, he is the very man that appeared in her vision. And presently (her invention be­ing as sudden as her resolution) she writes to him, that she was predestinated by the decrees of Heaven to be his, and if he would promise love to her; he must get the Generall to make a shew of raising the seidg, and that night, when her father and his men were brought to a sound sleep by the healths they would drinke to their enlargment, she would deliver them up his Prisoners. This letter she fasten'd to a stone, and so cast it, that it fell at Abdu­ruchman's feet; who prevailed with the Generall, that his unseen Mistris might be obeyed: nor did she faile of per­forming her unfortunate Promise. Thus ABYDOS, and shortly after SE­STOS, was render'd to the OTTO­MAN Family. The Keyes of Christen­dome being lost by hanging at a LADY'S girdle.

[Page]If this unhappy LADY put you out of love with ABYDOS, LE­ANDER will (I hope) reconcile you to his Birth-place: whom you shall now behold swimming from thence to SESTOS, where you may imagine HERO (the greatest beauty of the world) expecting her Love, and your Attention.

MƲSAEƲS, ON THE LOVES OF HERO and LEANDER.

( a SPeak Goddess, of the Torch (Lov's ( b) witness made
At Nuptials stealing through the gloomy shade,
Ne're seen by th' ( c) incorrupted morning-light)
Of Sestos and Abydos: here by night
Leander swimming, Hero marry'd there.
Heark, the Torch ruffled by the wind J heare,
The steering Torch that did to Ʋenus ( d) guide,
The flaming Signall of the clowded Bride,
The Torch that for night-service aiery Jove.
[Page]Should make a Star, the star of wandring Love,
The Marriage-star, because it still gave ayme,
And watcht the Marriage-houres with ( c) sleepless flame,
Till by the rude wind th'envious Gust was blown;
And then (aye me) change Hymen's softer tone,
And let our Verse with one sad ( f) Close be crown'd.
The Torch extinguisht, and Leander drown'd.
Vpon the Sea▪ shore, parted by the flood
Two Cities ( g) Sestos and Abydos stood;
Iust o'rethwart neighbours: his bow Cupid bent,
And to both Cities the ( h) same Arrow sent,
Wherewith a youth and virgin were ( i) inflam'd,
He sweet Leander, she chast Hero nam'd,
He at Abydos, she at Sestos born;
Stars, like each other, which their Townes adorn.
Do me a favour if you passe that way,
Ask for the Tow'r where Sestian Hero lay,
And held the Torch, wafting Leander o're;
Ask for his Dwelling on the adverse shore:
Where still his fun'rals old Abydos keepes,
And in his Lov's and Death's remembrance weepes.
But dwelt he at Abydos? how then came▪
He to love Hero, she to catch his flame?
Faire Hero, virgin-Priestesse to the Power
Of Venus, her great Parents in a Tower
[Page]From them apart, near to the Sea had plac't;
Another Venus, but so strictly ( k) chast,
That she at female meetings ne're appear'd,
Nor her young play-mates charming Dances heard,
Regardfull women's envy to decline,
For at a Beauty women will ( l) repine.
But she with incense Venus still appeas'd,
Oft with his heav'nly ( m) Mother Cupid pleas'd,
Fearing his Quiver full of shafts that ( n) glow,
But yet those flaming shasts she scap't not so.
The Sestians now that Feast, they so much prize,
To Venus and Adonis solemnize.
O're to this Holy-day in boats-full throng,
( p) All th'Jslanders that to the Sea belong;
Some from ( q) Haemonia, from moist Cyprus some,
All Phrygia, all Cythera's women come.
None ( r) dance on Libanon in perfum'd aire,
No passengers but to this Feast repaire;
There wants of neighbouring Abydos none,
Of young men that love maids not any one;
For they to follow will be sure, where fame
Shall celebration of a Feast proclaime.
Not that th'immortall Gods their zeale pursues,
But troopes of mortall beauties to peruse.
Now through the Temple Virgin- Hero past,
[Page]And from her face a lovely splendour cast,
Like the cleare Moon when rising she's beheld;
Her snowy cheekes in scarlet circles swell'd,
So lookes the blowing ( s) Damask Rose, You'd swear
Hero ( t) a garden full of Roses were.
She blush't all over▪ in the polish'd stone
Beneath the pure white, Damask Roses shone.
From her flow'd many ( u) Graces, then of old
They ly'd that Men but of ( w) three Graces told.
For in each ( x) smiling eye of Hero sprung
A hundred Graces: thus said every tongue,
Venus hath now a Preistesse worthy her,
All men this maide before her Sex preferre.
Venus'es Preistesse a new Venus seemes,
So her the heart of conquer'd Youth esteemes.
Nor was there any but he Hero lov'd,
And wish't she were his Bride: where e're she mov'd
Through the strong fabrick of that sacred place,
All ( y) eyes, all hearts and longings went her pace.
One Youth admiring of her spake these words,
I've seene what beauty Sparta's Clime affords,
And what in ( A) Lacedaemon so much takes,
Where beauty to the world her ( B) Challenge makes;
But one so sweet, so modest I've not seene,
Sure one o'th' Graces here attends Loves Queene?
[Page]I've tir'd my sight, not ( C) satisfy'd my eye,
Let me but sleep with Hero and then ( D) dye.
I would not wish to be a Pow'r divine,
So I might live at home, and Hero mine;
But if unto thy Preistesse to pretend
Be Sacriledge, one like her ( E) Venus send.
Thus every youth said: there another had
A wound, and with ( F) concealing it, ran ( G) mad.
But brave Leander, this rare maid when thou
Beheld'st, thou wouldest not of dumb wounds allow,
But at the fiery arrow's very Fall
Thou'lt with faire Hero live, or not at all.
Love at her eye-beames did his torches light,
And ( H) fir'd Leanders bosome at first sight.
For beauty in a maide whose fame is pure,
Flyes like the feather'd shast, and hits more sure.
The eyes are loop-holes, her eyes fatall ( K) dart
Glanc't through his eye, and graz'd upon his ( I) heart.
Amazement, Feare, Shame, Impudence, he felt;
His sense amaz'd on her perfections dwelt,
His heart shooke, Shame restrain'd him, Love controll'd
That Shame, and made him impudently bold.
He softly walkt and stood before the maide,
And slily to her a ( M) side-looke convey'd,
With silent eyes foarding the virgins mind.
[Page]When she Leander's cunning love did find,
She joy'd in her own beauty: and ev'n She
Oft lifted her faire eyes by stealth to see
Leander's face, then lookt away again;
He joyed that he did love, nor she disdaine.
While now a private houre Leander watcht,
Day to the West the light's small stock dispatcht,
And straight the shadow'd Evening-star appear'd.
Then to approach her he no longer fear'd,
But when he saw the sky with sables hung,
He silently her rosy fingers wrung,
And fetcht a deep sigh: she did nothing say,
But as if angry, snatcht her hand a way.
Finding her discomposure he grew bold,
And of her rich-flowr'd vesture taking hold,
Pull'd her into the Temples secret'st part:
As 'twere a Pilgrimage against her heart,
Lingringly follow'd the slow-footed Maide,
And threating, thus in womens language said:
What, ( O) stranger, art thou mad? why pull'st thou so
A maid? away, leave, let my garment go.
Shun my rich Parents anger. To court me,
Preistess to Venus, it besits not thee.
'Tis hard to come unto a Virgins bed.
Thus lessons, maides are perfect in, she read,
[Page] Leander hearing female ( P) fury sound,
The Symptomes straight of yeelding virgins found,
For when with men maids once are furious grown,
Their very threatnings promise them our own.
Then her sweet-smelling pure-skinn'd neck he kist,
And spake these words, wherein lov's pangs assist.
Venus next Venus, Pallas whom I love
Next Pallas, daughters to Saturnian Jove,
For by no mortall forme art thou exprest;
Blest he that got thee, she that bare thee blest:
The wombe most happy that did thee create,
Heare thou my pray'r, and pity my love's fate.
Preistesse to Venus like to Venus doe,
Come, be the Preistesse of her pleasures too,
These ceremonies learn: a maid and be
Preistesse to Venus, it befits not thee.
( T) Maids Venus loves not; her true ( V) rites if thou
Wouldst know, they are the nuptiall bed and vow.
Do you love Venus? Love's soft lawes fulfill,
Call me your servant (call me, if you will,
Your husband) chac'd and caught by Cupids art,
Brought to your service by his golden dart,
As rough Alcides by the Hermian ( VV) wand
To Omphale the Lydian Maid's command;
But in this voyage to your presence made,
[Page]My steps sweet Venus not sly Hermes sway'd.
The Coy Arcadian, ( X) Atalama fled
(You know) Milanion's love and marriage-bed,
But she lov'd single life; this Venus mov'd,
Who made the once-despis'd her sole-belov'd.
Deare, lest your Goddess frown, be you more kind.
Thus he perswaded her against her mind,
Softning her soul with love and passion mixt;
( Y) Silently on the ground her eye she fixt,
Asham'd the Twi-light should her blushes meet,
Re-polishing the marble with her feet,
And gathering, at every little check
Giv'n by her heart, her robe about her neck.
All tokens that a maid's consent fore-run,
Who if she be struck speechless ( Z) then shee's won.
Love's bitter-sweetness now she working felt,
Faire Hero's heart gentle flame did melt,
Leanders lineaments her soule amaz'd.
And while her eye upon the pavement gaz'd,
On her faire neck his never weary'd sight
He fixt, untill prevented by the night,
The deaw that long had on her blushes hung,
Then dropt, and these words from her sweetest tongue.
Stranger, thy speech might on a ( A) rock have wrought,
Who thee the various wayes of Courtship taught?
[Page]Who did (alas) thee to my Country send?
But all which thou hast spoke is to no end,
For how, a wandring stranger as thou art
And faithless, can I fix thee in my heart?
Nor could we marry publikly 'tis cleare,
For of no marriage will my parents heare.
And should my Country thee a stranger shroud,
Thy ( B) stoln love could not long be in a cloud;
Newes with advantage ( C) slander will unfold,
What's done in corners in high-wayes is told.
Yet let me know thy name and native coast;
My great name Hero I suppose thou know'st.
In this vast Tower dwell but my Nurse and J.
And though my native Sestos be so nigh,
Such is the doome my cruell Parents give,
I, banish'thence, must the Seas neighbour live.
Nor with young maids at Dancings I appeare,
But day and night from Sea winds blustring heare.
Thus speaking, with her veyle her face she hid,
Againe blusht, and her selfe for speaking chid.
Leander on loves highest torture rack't,
Was soone inspir'd how loves designe to act.
For mans heart ( D) pow'rfull Cupid conquers twice,
First with his arrowes, then with his advise;
Which ever heales the wounds his arrows made,
[Page]VVhile he that hurts us doth our cure perswade
He helpt love-pos'd Leander to revolve;
VVho lastly, sighing, uttered this Resolve.
Virgin, to come to thee, J would not fear
Billowes of fire, or water though it were
Innavigable: to arrive thy bed,
No deep Gulph, no high-flowing tide I dread;
But thy wet servant shall the waves confront,
And nightly swim the raging Helles-pont.
For Love, I dwell but crosse these Narrow-Seas
Your neighbour at Abydos. Only please
On your high Turret to set up a Light,
Which shining in diameter by night,
I may become Lov's Ship, that light my star,
Beholding ( E) which, not looking up so far
As slow Bootes and the frozen Waine,
Or ( G) rough Orion, I may safely gaine
My obvious native soyle: but (dearest) watch,
For feare the boystrous wind the flame should catch,
And blow my life out, which to aire must slide
With that bright flame, unto my life the guide.
Of what I am, if you more knowledge claime,
Leander is fair Hero's husband's name.
Their secret marriage their night-league now made,
The Torch, love's Enfigne, was to be display'd.
[Page]She to prepare the Light, he did indent
To swim the Sea: their Nuptiall Eve thus spent,
Against their wills they part, she to her Tower;
He, least dark night his sense might overpower,
Tooke markes to know the Tow'r by, and sail'd o're
To faire Abydos his strong native shore,
Both longing for a whole nights marriage-fight,
Oft wishing for the bed-adorning night.
Night now soft ( I) rest upon her ( H) raven-wings
To all but to love-sick Leander brings;
Who on the lowd Sea's ever-chafing Bay,
Did but for Hymen's shining summons stay,
Expecting the sad Torch, and to be led
By that bright Vsher to his private bed.
As soon as e're thick darknesse veyl'd the night,
Hero advanc'd the Torch, which then gave Light;
Leander's eager spirits Cupid fir'd,
And as the Torch burn'd, still his flame aspir'd.
But from Sea hearing th'angry billowes scold,
At first he trembled▪ after growing bold,
Thus speaking to himself his heart he eas'd.
Love's cruell, the Sea not to be appeas'd;
But the Sea's water, J Loves fire containe,
Heart drink in fire, and scorn the flowing Maine.
Gainst Lovers what by Sea can be contriv'd?
[Page]Know'st not, that Ʋenus from the ( K) Sea's deriv'd,
Who both the Ocean, and our Stars commands?
Then his fair limbs he stript with both his hands,
Turbanted with his silken robe his head,
Leapt from the shoare, o'th'waves his body spread,
And up against the flaming torch still bore,
Himselfe the Ship, the Pilot, and thē Oare.
On her high turret Hero watcht the flame,
And as stiffe gales from any quarter came,
Still screen'd it with the sacred robe she wore,
Till tir'd Leander reacht the Sestian shore.
Down from the Turret Hero making hast,
Her breathless husband at the gates imbrac't,
And to her bedchamber in silence led,
There wip'd his locks that trickling foame still shed,
And ( M) nointed him with Roses, that consum'd
Th' offensive smell, and left him all perfum'd;
Twining about him then, yet panting lay'd
On her soft Downe, these softer words she say'd.
Love, thou hast labour'd sore, exceeding sore,
Love, thou hast labour'd much, no Lover more;
Fish-slime and Brine have made thy penance great,
Come now, into my bosome drop thy sweat.
Thus she, he straight unty'd her ( N) zone, and they
The lawes of ( O) gentle Venus did obey.
[Page]They had a Wedding, but no Dancing there,
A Bride-bed, but they did no singing heare;
Their sacred Nuptials no Poet prais'd,
About their private bed, no Torches blaz'd,
No Dancer in a nimble caper sprung,
No hymnes the Father or grave Mother sung.
But Darkness at Love's houres the Bride-bed made,
Drest up the Room: the Bride's Veyle was the shade.
Farre from Epithalamions were they matcht,
Night only at their Ceremonies watcht;
Aurora never did Leander veiw,
A Bride-groome in that bed he so well knew.
Who swam back to Abydos, breathing still
Those Hymenaeall Sweetes that never fill.
But long-veyl'd Hero mock't her Parents sight,
A Virgin all the day, a ( P) Wife by night;
Both often chid the Morning to the VVest,
And thus the fury of their loves supprest,
Enjoying secret, but short-liv'd delights,
For short time dates their strange stoln marriage-rites.
Approaching VVinter, in a moment, formes
The sky's Vertigo into horrid stormes.
The howling winds, as with a beesom, sweep
The wet false bottome of the boyling Deep;
Calkt ships, which Mariners dare not commit
[Page]To faithlesse Seas, are in the Harbour split.
But no rough Winter-Sea can thee affright,
Strong-soul'd Leander, but when th' once kind Light,
Now false and cruell, gave thy love the signe,
Feareless thou leapdst into fierce Neptune's Brine.
Unhappy Hero should, when winter came,
Have spar'd Leander, no more fed the flame
Of that fraile Comet, by whose blaze they held
Their night-commerce; but love and fate compel'd.
And now upon the lofty Turret rear'd
Fates brand, no longer Hymen's torch appear'd.
'Twas Night, when most the winds their spirits spent,
And 'gainst the shore their rally'd forces bent,
VVhen with accustom'd hope Leander fed,
Climb'd liquid mountaines, bound for Hero's bed;
Wave upon wave was pil'd, the Main wrought high,
Th'earth shook, the Sea was mingled with the sky.
The winds fell out, the East and VVest-wind fought,
The South against the North strong tempests brought,
The merciless and foaming surges roar'd;
Poore youth, he sea▪ born Venus oft implor'd,
Oft ( Q) Neptune King of Seas would have inclin'd,
And ( R) Boreas of Orythia put in mind,
But none helpt. Fate by Love was not control'd,
Quite over him the ( S) justling billowes roll'
[Page]His strong legs saile him, motionless now stands
The nimble vigour of his active hands:
The water down his throat at pleasure flow'd,
The giddy Seas their useless drink bestow'd.
And the false torch out as the ( T) sharp wind tost,
His Love and Life bemourn'd Leander lost.
The Sea her waking eyes did still survey,
And in her sad brest flow'd another sea.
[...]y, not her Husband, Hero seeing then,
[...]e Sea's broad back view'd to the utmost kenn,
To see if any where Leander came,
VVho, as the torch went out, might lose his aime.
But when she saw him on the billowes borne,
At her tow'r foot, and by the rocks all torne,
Near to her heart her Opall-colour'd gowne
She rent, and shrieking, to the Corpse leapt downe.
For her lost Husband she her self destroy'd,
And ev'n in death each other they enjoy'd.

ANNOTATIONS Upon Musaeus. Speake GODESSE.

a [...]Musaeus begins with Invoca­tion, and then summes up the story he intends to write of, after the manner of Homer, Hesiod, and of other Greeke and some Latin Poets. But the deity invoked, whether it be Venus (the subject being Love) or Homer's [...] once translated, Great Goddesse of my Verse, I leave to his Genius, whom Chapman in his Preface calls his first mover: and to such others as are best able to understand and judge, and that well know the POET's Imperative [...], rather signifies an incitall or applicati­on to an action, whereof there had beene an intermission.

( b) The Ancients supposed light to see. Lucian makes a Tyrants Lamp, that burned a-nights in his bed-chamber, wit­nesse against him in Hell.

[Page]( c) [...]] from [...] and [...], not subject to corruption; as the unhappy Torch was.

( d) [...]] [...] is the proper Attribute of Mercury. Qui pias laetis animas reponis sedibus; Hor. [...] Hom. Odys. o. v. 138. the Greeke Masters call him [...]. So that I here translate it ( Guide) because that as Mercury ferryed over the soules, so this Mercuriall Torch guided poore Leander to the shore of his Elizium.

( e) [...]] which with me, Cassi­us Parmensis would translate [ Exsomnem] Ausonius Vigilacem, not unfitly (you ha­ving v. 11.) [...]. Insomnes longo veniunt examine curae. Claudian.

( f) For on this Torch depend's Lean­der's Love and Life.

( g) [...]. Ad Sestum ad­versum Abydo, & distantem non plus octo stadijs. Xenoph. Philosoph. 4. Rerum Grae­carum. Which Helles-pont had not the name from Xerxes bridg, as Ammianus: [Page] But because it wanted a bridg for Hell [...].

( h) [...]. Signum indubtatum. For else Cupid might have shot his other arrow that repells Love, as OVID ex­presseth it.

( i) [...].] burning. Volucrem esse fingit immitem Deum Mortalis error, armat & telis manus, Arcus (que) sacros miscuit saeva face. Sen. Octav.

( k) [...]] nuptiarum ig­nara, virgineo nullum corpore passa virum. Ovid Fast. lib. 5. [...], nuptias non experta Cassiod. lib. 7. Anthol.

( l) [...]] Wit­ness that famous Dispute of Juno, Pallas, and Venus, whereof Paris was the unfor­tunate Arbiter.

( m) [...]] Or the Goddess, or the Planet, both causes of the same effect.

( n) [...]] Which darted make a wild-fire in the blood, not to be quench'd. Vulnus alit venis et caeco car­pitur igni. Virg.

( p) [...]] So called, perhaps be­cause celebrated by all the people, at least, [Page] by the major part, the vulgar and meaner sort, for so Porphiry interprets [...] out of Homer. Consonant to that of Xeno­phon, Plato, Theocritus, and others who mention two Venuses, the first, [...] Urania, Goddess of chast affection; the other, Pandemos, Queen-Regent of the grosser bodily love common to Man and Beast, and therefore her Feast is called [...], which might be solemnized by any or all the Islanders, for they came, as you see in the very verse following, [...] or as some, [...], that is, [...]; By com­panyes, multitudes, all the Islanders to­gether.

( q) [...]] Haemonia from Haemon Pyrrha's son, formerly Pyrrhaea from his Mother, and afterward Thessalia from his son Thessalus.

( r) [...]] Rather then [...], Liba­non being full of the Priests of Venus, that loved dancing like their Goddess. Iam Cytherea choros ducit Venus.

( s) [...]] Helliodorus lib. 3. inter­prets [Page] it [...].

( t) [...]] A field of Roses. Achil­les Tatius fancyed in the Peacock's Traine a Meddow full of flowers.

( u) Any thing pleasant being accoun­ted to comprehend the Graces.

( w) Thalia, Aglaia, Euphosyne, Natal. Comes, Mythol. 4. cap. 15.

( x) Of the wonderfull smiling of the Eye, see Nonnus, who particularly ascribes to the Eye, the visible faculty, differencing Man from Beast, the Lovers Eye and every Sence being banished into his Ob­ject.

(A) Chiefe City of Sparta, nam'd from Lacedaemon son to Iupiter [...].

(B) [...]. I need to say nothing of their Challenges, since the La­dy-Combatants of Sparta are so wel known as to raise a Proverb. Such was the Prize at the Feast of the Eleusinian Ceres, where Herodice was adjudged [...]. The most beautifull & the [...], the Crown of Beauty set upon her Forehead. Nic. [Page] in Rebus Arcadicis: Homer mentions the like Prizes held among the Lesbians.

(C) [...]] Virgil hath the same expression, where he saies of Dido, Expleri mentem nequit, ardescit (que) tuendo. [...] here may therefore be rendered Sa­tiety, The food of the eye being known by that of Terence, Oculos pavere. of Plautus, Oculis epulas dare. And of Mar­tial, Inspexit molles pueros, oculisque co­medit. Nay sayes Plautus, Aures, oculi, ani­mus ampliter fiant saturi. And Aristophanes [...] dixit, & [...] dicta exsorbent.

(D) The Lovers Wish to enjoy and dye. Illum ego si cernam tunc tangam vertice cae­lum. Aus.

(E) [...]] Venus, so cal'd from her arrivall at Cythera in a shell saith Festus.

(F) [...]] Vulnus alit venis & caeco carpitur igni. Virg lib. 4. Aeneid.

(G) [...], so Theocritus cals Love. Nullam mentem animi habeo, ubi sum ibi non sum. Plautus.

(H) [...] Love being a [Page] kind of fire, Est mollis flamma medullas interea Virg. lib. 4. Aeneid.

(I) [...]. A bosome wound so Nonnus, lib. 4.

(K) [...]. To a young man a woman's eye's a Dart: Hesychius therefore considering love to spring from the sight, calls him [...], all eye.

Si nescis, oculi sunt in amore duces,
—Est via ocellus.
Ex oculis ictu paulatim labitur ulcus; Na-

Com. lib. 4. Mythol. cap. 14.

(M) [...] Looking obliquely▪ Theocritus Idyl.

(O) [...]] His Name and Country being as yet unknown to her; or else she calls him Stranger, to shew her unwillingness to a nearer relation.

(P) [...]] The Oestrum is a creature annoying beasts with her Sting, and making them fling and run, like mad: [...] (saith Suidas) [...], every violent motion is cal'd oestrum. [...] the deadly rage of necessity, Nonnuslib. 21.

[Page](Q) [...]] The necke is first kist sayes Achil: Tatius. The Persians salute thus, the equall kisses the mouth, the inferiour the hand, the person of honour the cheek or eye-lids, the peasant falls pro­strate on the ground. Vide si's Drusilum, lib. 9. pag. 380.

(T) [...].] Not knowing the use they were ordained for.

(V) [...]] The Orgyes of Bacchus were full of wild vagaryes, perhaps for that reason he uses the word.

(VV) [...]] Commotaculum, Mer­cury's rod, so called because when he mo­ved it, the Ghosts went forward.

(X) Daughter to Abbas, King of Ar­cadia, Mayd of Honour to Diana. So Callima.

(Y) [...]] Silence is powerfull in the extreames of Passion. Nec vox aut spiritus oris redditur, Claud.

(Z) [...]] Who is silent, denies not, saith the Law.

[A] [...]] Illa graves pote­rat quercus, adamanta (que) durum, Surda (que) [Page] blanditijs saxa movere suis. OVID.

[B] [...]] a stolne bed, Euri­pides; and Homer calls the off-spring of stolne love [...], things of darknesse. Hence Phocylides [...].

(C) [...]] Pindarus names [...] Calumny, [...], Which I have rendred slander, the true significa­tion of [...], being to cut and wound the heart with griefe, [...]. So the Scholiast in Apolonius. [...]. According to the Scoliast in Oppian.

(D) [...]] A frequent E­pithete of Cupid, whence the Distick, perfringunt, penetrant, urunt mea spicula ful­men. Scilicet hinc nomen est mihi [...].

[...]
[...]

‘Non potuit Iuno vincere, vicit Amor.

(E) [...]. Illustrated by Ovid, as you shall read it when his Lean­der names the Pilot's Starres.

(G) [...]] ARATUS saith, [...]. Wherefore [Page] the Romans called Orion, Iugula, from the sword he weares.

(H) [...]] Euripides agreeing with my sense calls it [...] ni­gro peplo indutam Noctem.

(I) [...]] Nox erat & placidum capiebant fessa soporem Corpora. Virg. lib. 4. Aeneid.

(K) [...]] Ausonius gives us the Pedegree of Venus. Orta salo, sus­cepta solo, patre edita caelo.

(M) [...].] From this anointing of the Greeks, the Romans had the fashion of their Baths and pretious unguents: (the expence wherof is known to every one) though the unguents Cos­mus us'd in's brazen Bath, were all on him diffus'd Juv. Sat. 8.

(N) [...],] Petr. Faber. thinkes this to be the sacerdotall band or diadem, grounding his opinion upon Hero's Re­ply to Leander, holding her vesture, [...]. v. 82.

(O) [...]] Venus being then in a benevolent aspect, or a propiti­ous [Page] inclination, optimâ mente praedita, so the word imports.

(P) [...]] Quae fuerat virgo cre­dita, mater er at, sayes Ovid of Calisto, one of the Maydes to Diana. So that [...] seemes to be appropriated to such, quae virum passae sunt.

(Q) [...]] Potens maris Deus. Her.

(R) The Ancients say that Boreas ra­visht Orythia as she was gathering flowers neare the Spring Cephisus, and that he car­ryed her into Thrace (whither now Lean­der was a swimming) See Natal. Com. lib. 8. Mythol. c. 2.

(S) [...]] Such as it was not easie to cope with.

(T) [...]] Things that disrel­lish are commonly called [...], sharp or bitter things [...].

LEANDER'S LETTER TO HERO, And her Ansvver: Taken out of OVID. With ANNOTATIONS. By Sir Robert Stapylton KNIGHT, Gentleman of the PRIVIE CHAMBER to the PRINCE.

—quis enim modus adsit Amori.

LONDON, Printed by F. B. for Humphrey Mosley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Princes Armes in Saint Pauls Church Yard 1647.

TO My deare Wife THE LADY STAPYLTON.

My Love,

PErhaps the Wits may be as much of­fended at men for writing to, as Walking with their owne Wives: neither is in fashion I confesse, but [Page] sure they would exceedingly well-become our Age. In­deed Gifts between Man and Wife, were prohibited by the Roman Legislator, yet hee intended not to destroy Kindness by a Law, but to declare Community in Marri­age, where both have equall Proprieties, in that which either is possessed of. And even in reason (the ground of Law) he that makes a Present to his Wife, offers an Injury in a Complement: for he in­titles her to that by his Gift, [Page] which is hers in her owne Right.

I will not therefore so much transgresse, as to say, I give thee my English of Lean­der's Epistle and Hero's an­swer: for that were to imply, an expectation of receiving Thankes, for what was thy own as soone as mine. All that (by praefixing of thy Name) I pretend to, is first, to shew the World how sensible I am of thy Love, ex­pressed to mee in both for­tunes, the later being lively [Page] represented in these Letters, that past betweene Husband and Wife divided by a Storme. In the next place, I shew thee, how I spent part of that time, when I had no­thing left but (what Fortune could not take away) some houres for study, wherein I enjoyed my selfe as much, as I could, in thy absence. Last­ly, I do an honour to my Au­thour, for I dare boldly say, the strictest and most rigid Modesty will not scruple to read a passion writ by OVID, [Page] where his name is placed so near to thine, which nothing unchast durst ever be so im­pudent to approach. And if my Augury deceive me not, the Goodness of the Times is such, that the Lady I send to beare thee company, Hero, will be studyed by thy Sex in generall; her vertue drawn into Presi­dent, and the greatest Mode­sties discovered in the greatest Beauties; teaching the bold Pretenders to their favour, to court them, not in lewd unman­ly Verse (the new-sickness of [Page] the mind) but in Leander's primitive way of wooing, ti­merous blushes, noble under­takings, and gallant perform­ances: but all of the vertuous ancient straine, such as this, wherein Ovid himself presu­med not to use one lascivious syllable: and if the Muse of so incomparable a Wit, presumed not upon a looser Flight, when his subject was the faire dead Sestian: how dare our puny Aretines draw a wanton line, when they write of Hero's yet alive? I hope this Patterne [Page] will ruin their Designe; to which good purpose, if my poore Endeavours may conduce, I must account them seasonably bestowed. Howsoever I shall not repent me, since they are crowned with so desired suc­cesse, that they publish me, as I am,

Thy most affectionate HUSBAND ROBERT STAPYLTON.

[...] which this is quoted) to be a Frag­ment; and so, that he gives not the full number, must be imputed as an injury done by time to him, and not by that eloquent Historian to the noblest Poët. I have therefore praefixed a Star before the name of Homer, to signifie a space, that should be filled up with the title of Musaeus. This, if it were his Interpreters single Opinion, might perhaps incur the suspition of par­tiality. But I have already shewed you it to be voted by Virg. and Sca­liger, the first of these placing Musaeus above all the blessed Soules, and calling him (by Sybil's mouth) the Best of Poëts: the other, chal­lenging for him particular prece­dency of Homer; and now to make [Page] up a Triumvirate of matchless Au­thours, and confirme them by the authority of a Triumvirate of learned Judges, I produce these Let­ters pend by OVID, when hee thought it an honour to be Secre­tary to Musaeus his Hero and Lean­der; wherein the Great Master that taught Love to Rome, acknow­ledges Greece to be the Mistresse of his Learning, for when he had writ so many soft and melting Love-Poëms; never equalled by the La­tins, nay after all those Epistles of Penelope to Vlysses, Paris to Hel­len, and the rest summed up by himselfe in his Elegyes, yet could not Ovid rest satisfied with the numerous Trophies of his Wit, till hee had surprised the Roman [Page] Ladies with this Greek Stratagem. Here I cannot but take notice how ridiculous they are, that because OVID names not these Epistles, would inferre some other writ them: as if Ovid when hee had numbred some, were obliged to write no more, but I will not trouble my selfe or these Sages of Grammar further, then to wish them a better stock of Logick; and if they know not the stile of O­vid when they read it, yet to make submission to the Consent of Times, and Schollars, such as Mich. Neander, who in his Description of the Orbe of the Earth, the first part, pag. 245 sayes thus. Sestos nota amore Leandri & Herûs &c. Sestos famous for Hero and Lean­der's [Page] Love, celebrated in a peculiar Poëm by Musaeus, and after him by Ovid in his Heroical Dispatches. But that which I most admire in Ovid, is his Modesty wherewith he copies out this Patterne, Love pointing in these Letters to the true Poles, Delight and Vertue; which Example may (I hope) reduce Love-Stories to their Primitive Purity, and make Ovid's wan­ton followers blush at the varia­tion of their Compass. This is the reason that induced me (after I had taken my Leave of Poetry) to suffer this Impression. And yet J hope it would be favourably re­ceived, if it were only, like heaving of the Log in Navigation, drawn up to shew you, (as Worthy [Page] Mr. Sandys did) how many Lea­gues we have sailed in Language; since you read

Of bodyes chang'd to sundry shapes I purpose for to treate,
Ye Gods vouchsafe (for ye are they that wrought this won­drous feate,
to further this mine enterprise—

After which old English verse, it will not haply be unseasonable to sweeten you with an Epigram of Martiall upon Hero and Lean­der.

Cum peteret dulces audax Leander amores,
Et sessus tumidis jam premeretur aquis.
Sic miser instantes affatus dicitur undas;
Parcite dum propero, mergite dum redeo.
To his sweet Love when bold Leander went,
Thus the poor youth, they say, w th swiming spent,
Bespake the Waves, if you decree my Wrack,
Hold now, and drown me in my going back.

Having now (I hope) prepared you by making Presents in English [Page] of all extant in the Greek and La­tin, that concernes Hero and Lean­der; I shall conclude with pre­ferring of a Suite, which is, that you will please to take notice, I make it not my businesse to con­strue, but to translate: for the first I hold only fit for a Pedant, the o­ther for an Interpreter; the End of Construction being to acquaint us with the Grammar of a Language; whereas Translation, should reduce a forrein tongue to the lustre of our own, not losing any of the Au­thour's strength and spirits, but teaching him to speak as if he had been born upon the Place. Which though I pretend not to have done, yet 'twill I am confident find acceptance, that I have endevoured it.

LEANDER TO HERO.

The Argument.
LEander hindred to performe
his task of swimming by a storme,
Findes one that undertakes to land
His Letter safe in Hero's hand.
Why he came not, and how he lives,
A sad account Leander gives.
Yet makes Misfortune something lesse,
By summing up his first successe:
[Page]But if the Sky shall longer frowne,
He sets this resolution downe,
That swim he will; and vowes a wave
Shall be his Convoy, or his Grave.
TO Hero health Leander sends, which hee
Had rather bring, would th' angry waves agree.
If Gods be kind, and favour Love's Designes,
Thou with unwilling eyes wilt read these lines,
But they are cruell; for why cross they him
That hath been us'd this Sea so oft to swim?
Thou seest the sky more black then pitch, the North
Plowing the Maine up, scarce a ship goes forth;
Except the bold man that did this convey,
None of our Mariners dare trust the Sea.
Yet I had come, but when he put from Land,
On their house-tops did all Abydos stand.
I could not have deceiv'd my Parents eyes,
They would have found the Love that we disguise.
Then, Happy letter, said I writing this,
Go, she will give thee her fair hand to kiss:
Perhaps a touch thou from her lips maist steale,
In case her snowy teeth break up the seale.
This whispered to thy figure in my breast,
My hand upon the paper spake the rest:
[Page]O how much more 'twould please me, if it might
Tugge with a wave, and rather swim then write:
In swimming it would better service do,
Yet to expresse my mind 'twill serve me too.
'Tis now a sennight, longer then a yeare,
That I the billowes hoarce with scolding heare;
Since when, if I have one nights slumber had,
Still to delay me may the Sea be mad.
Set on a Rock I sadly view thy shore,
And though my body's stopt, my soule swims ore.
The Light upon thy Turret I descry,
Or else 'tis fancy'd by my longing eye.
Thrice on the thirsty Sand my clothes J layd,
Thrice to begin my voyage I essay'd;
My young Attempt the raging sea withstood,
And sunk me with a strong high going flood;
But thou, of winds the siercest, why so hot?
Thou do'st, ô ( a) Boreas, (if thou knowst it not)
To me, not to the billowes cruell prove;
What would'st thou do, if thou hadst nere known love?
Though cold by nature, it must be confest,
Orythia shot a fire into thy breast▪
When thou to catch her flew'st, had any form'd
A Barricado, How would'st thou have storm'd?
O spare me, gently move the aire I pray,
[Page]So still may ( b) [...]olus thee gently sway.
But my vaine pray'rs, his murmures more inrage,
Nor will he any wave he swels, asswage.
Oh now for c Daedalus his wings to fly,
Though Icarus his Ocean be so nigh;
My life should run all hazard poiz'd aloft
In aire, that hath on water hung so oft.
Meane time, while Aire and Water's both unkind▪
The story of my Love J call to mind.
'Twas newly night (the thought on't glads my soule)
When first out of my Fathers doore J stole:
Straight with my garments putting off my fears,
My rowing armes the smooth Sea gently bears,
The Moon did then her trembling beams display,
And full of Courtship brought me on my way.
Looking at her, J said, ô bright one, still
Be gracious, think upon the ( d) Latmian hill,
Endymion will not let thy heart be hard,
With a clear Aspect my sweet stealth regard▪
Down to a Mortall you a Goddess came,
I may speak truth, a Goddess breath'd my flame▪
To wave her inward and Caelestiall grace,
None but true Goddesses have such a face.
No other matches Venus or thy mold,
If thou beleev'st me not, do thou behold▪
[Page]As much as when thou wear'st pure silver rayes,
Heavens lesser fires are darkned by thy rayes,
So much all beauties are by hers out shin'd,
If ( c) Cynthia thou doubt'st this, thy light is blind.
Or these, or words to this effect I spake,
And hasted o're the waves that kindly brake:
The Moon reflected on the water play'd,
And ev'n in the still night a Day-light made.
No sound arriv'd my eare, but what was cast▪
From off the water, murm'ring as J past;
Only I know not what, but some sweet thing
I heard the ( f) Halcyons of lov'd Ceyx sing.
My shoulders tir'd with motion, now I stood
Picht on my hands, ore looking of the flood▪
When I beheld thy Torch a-farre▪ and cry'd
My fire is there, my life on th'other side.
Immediately my strength restor'd J felt,
And the late boyst'rous waves seem'd now to melt.
Nor found I the least coldness in the Maine,
Thanks to the heate my bosome did containe.
Nearer and nearer swimming to thy shore,
As my way less, so grew my speed the more:
But seen by thee my vigour did renew,
Out of thy eyes another soule J drew.
Then my proud arms I flourisht in thy sight,
[Page]And us'd my art my Mistress to delight.
Thy Nurse scarce held thee in her arms above,
I saw it, thine's no complementall love:
Do what she could, thy feet she could not save
From being sprinkled with the foremost wave;
Thou in thy armes receiv'dst me with a kiss,
Should Gods swim ore sea, no reward like this.
Your mantle from your selfe on me you threw,
And dry'd my locks full of the brakish deaw.
The rest we know, and the close Tow'r and Night▪
And my directer through the sea, thy Light.
Nor can that one night's joyes be numbred more
Then waves that dash the Hellespontick shore.
The less our time of stealth, the more we bent
Our cares, that it should not in vaine be spent:
Old ( h) Tython's wife now hasting night away,
The Star appears that ushers in the day.
We heape up kisses, snacht in any sort,
And moane our selves that night should be so short▪
Then our twin'd arms thy tatling Nurse divorc't,
And from thy Tow'r me to my cold shore forc't.
Weeping we part, the ( h) Virgin-Sea bears me,
But my last look I leave behind with thee.
Oh I came hither swimming, but go back
Beleeve me little better then a wrack.
[Page]And this beleeve, to thee I came with ease,
But going from thee climbe the hilly seas.
And landing sadly, can it be beleiv'd?
To stay in my own country I am greiv'd.
Aye me, that joyned minds the sea should part:
That there should be two places for one heart.
Let Sestos or Abydos one of's quit,
Thy country me, and thee my clime would fit.
Why should confounded waves confound my mind?
Why should so light things vex me as the wind?
The crooked Dolphins now our loves can tell,
For questionless the Fishes know me well.
My swimming on the sea a track hath left,
Like that a-land which by Coach wheeles is cleft▪
To have no way but this, I thought it hard:
But now it grieves me that this way is bar'd.
Thou seest the foamy billows how they chafe,
The ship that rides at anchor scarce is safe.
This Sea, when from the Virgin drown'd, it took
The name it beares, did sure thus troubled looke:
Too much did Helle's death these straits defame;
To spare me, crime enough is in the name.
I envy ( i) Phryxus, carryed by the sheep
(Whole Fleece was gold) safe through this fatall deep▪
From Fleece or sheep do I no help require,
[Page]VVater enough is all that I desire.
Give me but Sea-roome and I ask no more,
I will my selfe be Pylot, Ship, and Oare.
Nor ( k) Charles Waine, nor the Tyrians lesser Beare
I mark, by no known Stars our love will steere.
( l) Andromeda, the ( m) bright Crown, ( n) she that still
Shines in the cold Pole, follow they that will▪
Nor she that Iove or Bacchus did affect,
Nor she that Perseus lov'd, shall me direct;
I have another light, a surer mark▪
Guided by which, Love cannot feare the dark.
By this I could to Colchis with more ease
Then th' Argo sayl'd, swim ( o) all the Pontick seas.
A match with young ( p) P [...]l [...]mon, or with ( q) him
The rare hearbe made a sea-God, I durst swim.
If sometimes with long toyle my strength so faile,
That through the deep I scarce my armes can traile,
VVhen I say to them, work but now apace,
And you anon shall my Loves neck imbrace:
Grow'n fresh they stop not, till the Crown be won,
Like horse that from th' ( r) Olympick barriers run.
The Torch thou hold'st to light me, that's my star,
And thou, a beauty worthyer heav'n by far:
VVorthy of Heav'n, but on Earth pr'y thee stay,
Vnless to heaven thou canst shew me the way.
[Page]Here thou art mine, but in a moment lost,
And when the seas are vext, my mind is tost;
That th'Ocean parts us not, to me what good?
As much I'me parted by this narrow flood▪
Twere better (sure) for me, could I remove
As far as Earth's wide from my hope and love.
Now at this nearness nearer flames annoy,
The substance seldome, hope J still enjoy:
I almost reach my Love, I am so neare▪
Yet this, alas, in sighes hath cost me deare;
( s) To hope, what's that, but to catch fruit that slips
My hand, and water gliding through my lips!
Now when the sea is pleas'd we meet, and me
No winter in thy arms must happy see.
Though sea and wind all constancy defie,
Yet on the sea and wind my hopes rely.
'Tis summer, How, when ( t) Charles, ( u) the Pleiades, ( u) Kid
And Sea shall meet, our meeting to forbid.
Either I do not mine own rashnesse know,
Or me upon the waves Love then will throw:
But least you think my promise keeps aloofe
And takes long day, Ile give a present proofe.
Let but the sea thus rage a few nights more,
Ile try if sullen waves will passe me o're.
A happy boldness shall my venture crown,
[Page]Or me my Love and Cares together drown▪
Yet I do wish I may be wrack't, where you
My mangled body and torne limbs may veiw;
For you will weepe and touch the Corpse and cry
The cause of poore Leanders death am J.
But 'tis not well thus to fore-speak my end,
And here perhaps my letter may offend;
From this part therefore thy sad eye decline,
And for a calme sea, joyne thy prayer too mine.
Till into thy sweet harbour I have swumme,
VVe need a short calme, then let winter come.
That Port did nature for my ship provide,
'Tis there that safest I at anchor ride.
Let Boreas stop me there, where stay is sweet,
Then I'le swim slowly, then i'le be discreet.
Nor on the sea, that heares not, will I raile,
Nor the unkindnesse of the sky bewaile.
Me let the wind and thy soft armes delay,
Let those be the two causes of my stay.
Yet spight of winter I will swim the deep,
Only do thou thy Torch still lighted keep.
▪Meane while, thy Bed-fellow my Letter make,
VVhich 'tis my wish I soon may overtake.

Annotations upon Leanders Letter to HERO.

a BOreas] so the North-wind was cal­led, from his loud and torrent-like noise, [...] ▪ He is fained by the Poëts, to be sonne to the River Strymon, and that falling in love with Orythia, Daughter to the King of Athens, Eric­thonius; he made his suit for the Royall as­sent, but meeting with an absolute denyall, the violent Boreas caught up the Prin­cesse, and carryed her into Thrace, where he had issue by her, two winged sonnes, Zete and Calais, that went the voyage to Cholchis with Jason, and free'd their bro­ther-in-law King Phineus of the Harpyes, those woman-faced vultures, that were so noysome to his Palace. Of this story [Page] of the Athaenian Nymph (so Musaeus calls Orythia) Leander remembers Boreas even while he blowes to sinke him, [...]. And Boreas of Orythia put in mind.

[ b] Aeolus] Monarch of the Windes, sonne to Jupiter and Sergesta [or Acesta] Daughter of the Trojan Hippotas, whence Ovid, Metam lib. 1. calls him Aeolus Hip­potades, that imprisons the Windes. The manner of their imprisonment Juvenal describes Sat. 5.

—Nam cum se continet Auster
Dum sedet, & siccat madidas in carcere penna [...]Charybdim
Contemnunt mediam temeraria ligna

—For when the South-wind waites
A Pris'ner, and his dewy feathers dryes,
Charybdis our bold Fishermen despise.

Pliny Hist. Nat. lib. 3. delivers Aeolus to be son unto Heleneus and that reigning in the Vulcanian or Aeolian Iles he was cal­led [Page] King of the Windes, because he fore­told by the flying of the smoake and Clouds what quarters the Wind would change to. Diod. Siculus sayes hee got this knowledge by the Starres. Strabo, that it came by the ebbing and flowing of the Sea. The Poetick part of his story is thus moralized. Aeolus is a prudent man, that knowes how to moderate his Passions and can (according to the pre­sent time and businesse) faine anger or dis­semble it, for that is, to imprison or in­large the Windes; Nat. Comes. Mythologiae lib. 8. cap. 1.

[ c] Daedalus.] The fable of Daedalus [how, to escape out of the Labarynth he made wings for himselfe and his sonne I­carus▪ who would not take his counsell, but ambitiously flying at the Sunne, fell and was drowned in the Sea, named from his mis-fortune the Ioarian Ocean] is so knowne a story, that I shall not trouble you with the relation, but if any have not yet read it, I referre him from Ovid here, to Ovid in his Metamorph [as I re­member] lib. 8. That Daedalus was an [Page] Athenian, we have Juvenal's authority Sat. 3.

Adsummam, non Maurus erat, nec Sarmata, nec Thrax
Qui sumpsit pennas, medijs sednatus Athenis.

In short, wings were not by a Thracian worn,
Tartar, or Moore, but one at Athens borne.

This rare Mechanick [ Daedalus] in­vented the Saw, the Plane, the Levell, the Wimble, Glew and Mortar, Saile­yards and Sailes, which for their swift­ness, and because the Wind transports them, being called Wings by the Poets, occasioned the tale of his flying in the ayre▪ being onely his sayling on the Sea; where he alighted, that is, landed, Umbri­cius in the said 3. Sat. tells us, who re­moving from Rome to Cuma sayes

I meane to goe and settle in that Towne,
Where Daedalus his weary'd wings layd downe.

[ d] Latmian hill] to the toppe of the hill Latmus in Caria (si Graecia vera) if [Page] you credit the Greeke Poets, the Moone de­scended to kisse Endymion (sometimes fa­vorite to Jove) awaking him from the long sleepe to which Jupiter had condem­ned him, out of a jealousie that Juno in­tended to make him her Favourite too. Apolon. lib. 4. Argonaut. tells us, Endy­mion was a great Mathematician, that by his judgement in Astrology found out the course of the Moon, for which hee was intitled the Beloved of the Moone.

[ e] Cynthia] an Attribute given to the Moone from Cynthus, a Mountaine in the Isle of Delos, where Latona was deli­vered of her Twinnes, Diana and Apollo. Virg. lib. 2. Aeneid. ‘Qualis in Eurotae ripis, aut per juga Cynthi Excercet DIANA Choros.’ ‘As on Eurota's banks, or Cynthus top DIANA dances.’

( f) The Halcyons] The birds we call the Kings-Fishers, never seene at Sea but [Page] in a Calme of fourteene dayes, seaven of which she layes in, and in the other 7. hatches her Egges. Whence peaceable times are titled [...], Halcyon dayes. And therefore Ovid in this place describing the smooth Sea favouring the first Love-voyage, elegantly mentions the singing of the Halcyons, which Aristotle confirmes [...]. They are (accord­ing to Poëtick Herauldry) the Issue of that Halcyon that Hero in her Answer tells Nep­tune of, by whom he had a daughter of that name marryed to KING Ceyx, who would needs (much against his Wife's mind) make a voyage to the Oracle at Delphos, to know what judgment of the gods his house deserved that his brother had beene turned into a Gosse-Hawke, but meeting with a storme in the Aegean Sea, he and ship were sunke. Poore Halcyons dreames that he was drowned, and in the morning going, as shee used to doe, to the Port where the King tooke shipping, she sees a thing floating on the Sea, which coming still nearer, at last she knew it to [...]e her husbands Corpse, and running upon [Page] the waves to embrace it, the Gods in pity metamorphosed her into a Kings-Fisher, immediately flying to the body, she kissed it, and Ceyx with that [...] was likewise turned into a Halcyon. See Ovid. lib. 11. Met.

( g) Tython] The happiest Old man that ever I heard of, being in his Gray-Haires ravished to heaven by the young Goddesse Aurora, 'tis fabled by the Poets that she first carryed him in her Chariot into Aethiopia, where he had Memnon by Aurora. Of whom Ovid makes Sapho jealous, that she had catcht up him for Cephalus, Ovid in Sapho.

Hunc ne pro Cephalo raperes Aurora timebam,
Et faceres: sed te prima rapina tenet.

This Cephalus I fear'd Aurora thou
Wouldst steale: th▪ hadst done't, but Tithon watches now.

Lastly, the Poets (that can doe any thing) turne Tython into a Grasse-Hopper, Ovid. lib. 9. which some of them say [Page] came by the griefe he conceived for his sonne Memnon's death, for whom he still cryes, to the trouble of his hearers. But Horace attributes his consumption to those infinite yeares that his Celestiall Wife by her pretious balme caused him to live, ‘Longa Tithonum minuit senectus’ ‘His old age shrunk up Tithon. The ground of these Fictions, was the long life of Tithon, continued by his ri­sing with the Day-breake, which Aurora signifies, who with her morning-deaw, gave him perspiration and kept him long in health. Let the youth that hope to be Old, follow this President, and spend the early day in business: while they that are regardlesse of their future health, con­sume the Morning and themselves in sleepe.

( h)▪ Virgin-Sea] the Straites dividing Europe and Asia, named the Helles-pont, be­cause the Virgin-Princesse Helle was there drownd by a fall from the golden Ramme, [Page] on which shee rid behind her brother Phryxus. The occasion of their journey through the Sea (for I cannot call it a voyage) was this. These two being the Children of Athamas King of Thebes by Nephele; the King after her decease mar­rying Jno, Nurse to Bacchus, she like a true step-mother and one that had the tongue of a Nurse, continually night and day filled the King's eares with railing at Phryxus and Helle; to avoyd this torment to himselfe, and the danger of her spleen to his Children, the good Old man deli­vered to them the Ramme, whose Fleece was Gold; on which he assured them, they might ride safely through the Sea, and plant themselves out of the reach of their Mother in law: for which Juno sent the furies to him, that so possessed him, as that Ino comming in with her two sonnes Learchus and Melicertes, he imagi­ned his Wife to bee a Lionesse, and the boyes her Whelps, and catching up Lear­chus, swung him (as Ovid hath it rarely, Met. lib. 4.) twice or thrice about his head, and then knockt out his braines, at [Page] which Ino tooke a fright, and running with little Milicertes in her armes to the Rock Leucothea, cast her selfe into the Sea together with the Child, both metamor­phosed by the compassionate Gods; she in­to a Sea-nymph named of the rock [...] Leucothea, the white Nymph; the Latin calls her Matuta, the Dawning: and Meli­certes into a Sea-god, called by the Greeks [...], Palaemon, P [...]tron of the Ports▪ which the Romans called Portunus. See Natal. Com. lib. 8. cap. 4.

( i) Phryxus] who having lost his Si­ster Helle in the Straites betwixt Sestos and Abydos, passed safely through the Propon­tick and Pontick sea, and alighting at Col­chis sacrificed the golden Ramme (that bore him) to Mars, and hung up his fleece in the Temple, where it was religiously preserved, till Iason stole it; for how ever the Greeks gloryed in it as a Conquest, the honest Roman, Iuvenall, termes it plaine theft. Sat. 1. ‘— Ʋnde alius furtivae devehat aurum pelliculae. ‘What Thiefe obtain'd The Golden-Fleece.

[Page]( k) Charles-waine] So the English name the Constellation of the greater Ar­ctos or Beare, the Graecians call it Helice [...], because it turnes about the Pole. Betwixt the Pole and the great Beare lyes Cynosura, or the lesser Beare, of both which Constellations Ovid in his Fastis writes so consonant to himselfe in this place, that it were a madnesse to sus­pect that Booke and this Epistle could bee writ by severall hands; but if you thinke me partiall, be your selves the Iudges.

Esse duas Arctos, quarum Cynosura petatur▪
Sydonijs, Helicen Graeca carina note [...].

Two Beares there are, Sydonian Sea-men use
Cynosure, Helice the Greeke Pilot viewes.

( l) Andromeda] [or Andromede] Daughter to Cepheus and Cassiopea King and Queene of Aethiopia, in revenge of whose pride (for the Queen had com­pared her selfe with the beauties of the Sea) as the Princesse Andromeda was walking to take the ayre by the Sea-side, [Page] the Nymphs catcht her, and chaining her to a rock, left her to be devoured by the Sea-monsters, but she was destined to better fortune, Propertius, lib. 1.

And romede monstris fuer at devorata marinis,
Hac eadem Persi nobilis uxor erat.

For Whales to eate, Andromeda was tyed,
But freed by Perseus, prov'd his noble bride▪

But to be rescued by, and marryed to Perseus was only the fortune she lived to, for she dyed to a farre nobler fate, being by Minerva's speciall favour, received in­to the number of the Starres, where she now shines in the North-part of Pisces.

( m) The bright Crown] Virg. lib. 1. Georg. calls it the Gnossian Crowne, of Gnossos the City where Ariadne's Father Minos kept his Court, this Crowne (no [...] a Constellation, jewelled with seaven sparkling Starres) was a present made to Ariadne by her servant Bacchus, who fell enamoured of her in the Isle of Naxos, where she was left to her fortune, by the [Page] ingratefull Theseus, delivered by the gui­dance of her clew out of her Father's Labyrinth, where he was to be devoured by the Minotaur, halfe man, halfe bull, the monstrous issue of her mother Queen Pasiphae, which she had conceived in a Cow of Wood, made her by the rare Workeman Daedalus, to satisfie her long­ings for a Bull. A prodigious story, made out of the Clinch or equivocall sig­nification of a word, as you shall heare in the History it selfe, whereof we have the truth in Plutarch's Theseus; Where hee tells us, that Androgeus the son of Minos being reported to be murthered in Attica, Minos in revenge, made warre upon the the signiory of Athens by the sword, and the Gods by Famine and Pestilence; the very Rivers being dryed up. But when the Oracle had instructed them, that the way [...]o be reconciled to the Gods was first to give satisfaction to Minos, they made their peace with him for a yearely Tribute of sea­ven young Boyes, and as many Girles, to continue for nine yeares. Thus farre (he sayes) all Authors agree. But that Philo­choros [Page] sayes the Cretans absolutely deny the monstrous Fable. The Labyrinth they affirm to be the Prison the Children were kept in, which had no other Ill in it, but that it lockt them up safe; and that Minos, (ordaining Warlike exercises in memory of Androgeus,) gave the Athaenian prisoners to him that had the Victory, which fell successively the two first yeares to a Commander greatly favoured by the King, one Tauros, whose name signifying a Bull, and his harsh nature agreeing with his name (for he used the children proud­ly and cruelly) gave hint for the horrid tale of the Minotaur; a word compoun­ded out of Minos and Tauros, and set forth by Euripides, to be a monstrous birth of the mixt nature of a man and Bull; but 'tis Aristotles opinion, that the Boyes were not slaine, but lived to bee old slaves a­mong the Cretans. Thus a great Prince and one of the justest and Noblest Legis­lators was reported to be made Cuckold by a Bull, and likewise said to be a Iudge in Hell, meerly for incurring the displea­sure of the University of Athens. [...] [Page] [...] and indeed (sayes Plutarch) 'tis a sad misfortune, to incurr the enmity of a Towne, that hath the command of language and the Muses.

( n) She] Calisto Daughter to Lycaon King of Arcadia, one of the Mayds of honour to Diana, deceived by Iupiter coming to her in the forme of her chast Mistresse, like those Philosophers Iuvenal mentions, Sat. 2. that disguised lust. in the figure of Modesty; but poore Calisto might cry out as the Satyrist does there, ‘Frontis nulla fides—’ ‘No trust to Faces.—’ For Diana▪ fac'd Jove over▪ mastered her (See Ovid. lib. [...].) and had Arcas by her, who gave his name to that much fa­med Country of Arcadia. But though the Princesse Calisto suffer'd a kind of ba­nishment, wandring in the woods, yet was not Iuno so appeased, but changed her beauty into the ugly shape of a Beare: but good-natur'd Jupiter tooke up that Beare with him to heaven, and fix'd it there a Constellation in the cold Pole, as Ovid tels [Page] us, only her pawes are a little without the Artick Circle, Propertius, l. 2.

Calisto, Arcadicos erraverat Vrsa per agros
Haec nocturna suo fidere vela regit.

Calisto, once th' Arcadian wandring Beare,
Now guides night-saylers, in her heavenly spheare,

( o) All the Pontick seas] that is, the Hellespontick, Propontick, and Pontick: through all which Iasons ship (the Argo) sayled to Colchis, hee being taught by King Phineus how to passe the Thraci­an Bosphorus, the Straits that open into the Pontick or Euxine sea, in which pas­sage Ulysses told the Phaeacks that the Cyan rocks meet. This Argo was built of Pro­phetick wood that grew in Dodona's vocall Forrest, by Argos a rare workman, who the Poets say, received instructions for the Modell of her, from the Goddesse Minerva. Horace,

—ad charum Tritonia devolat Argum,
Molire hunc puppem jubet & demittere ferro.

[Page]
—to her freind Argos Pallas flyes,
Bids him hew timber and a Ship devise.

( p) Palaemon] (see letter h ▪) Some say Theseus instituted the Isthmian games in honour of Palaemon; but I think they are as much out in their conjectures, as hee that takes the Eve for the Feast-day, for the Isthmian games were consecrated to Neptune by Theseus, and were the solem­nity of the day: those little sports he or­dained in the memory of Palaemon, being done in the night, and only ushering in the other, see Plutarch.

( q) Him] Glaucus, a fisher-man, who drawing his nets, and tumbling down his fish upon the shore, wondered to see some of them bound back into the sea, as if they had got wings: and marking the rest more narrowly, found the cause thereof to be in the rare quality of an herbe wher­on they nibled; this put him into a longing to tast it too, which he had no sooner done, but away he bounced after them into the sea, and was made the sea-God [...], or the colour Green drawing upon White.

[Page]( r) Olympick barriers] Hercules was the Founder of the Olympick games dedica­ted to Iupiter, in imitation whereof, These­us brought in the above-named Isthmian exercises, celebrated in honour of Nep­tune, he that won the Olympick Chariot­race or foot-race, was Crowned with Olive, the Conqueror in the Isthiman games with Pine.

( s) To hope] Ovid points you to the fable of Tantalus, the perfect Hyrogliphick of bare Hope; for the Poets say, he stands in the water with fruit bobbing at his lips, the water complementing with his thirst, ready to enter his mouth, and yet is never the nearer to his meat or drink.

( t) Charles] Arcas, son to Calisto by Jupiter, by other names Bootes and Arcto­phylax, the Constellation of the Carr­man, whom we see pictured in the Celesti­all Globe following of the Waine, terga sequentis habet. Ovid.

( u) The Pleiades] The seven Stars that keep the Bull from kissing the Ramme's Tayle: their Winter-rise being much a­bout the time that Bootes and the Goate [Page] rises, when the Sun is in or about Libra, and therefore at their appearance Stormes may be expected by the Sea-faring men. But in the Spring the Pleiades rising, signi­fy a faire time for Sayling, whence they derive their name [...]. They were daughters to the supporter of the hea­vens, Atlas, by the Nymph Pleione, their names and fortunes my Author takes no­tice of, l. 4. Fast.

Pleiades incipient humeros relevare paternos,
Quae septem dici, sex tamen esse solent.
Seu quod in amplexus sex hinc venêre Deorum
Nam Steropen Marti conoubuisse ferunt.
Neptuno Halcyonem & to formosa Celaeno,
Maian & Electram Taygetam (que) Io [...]i.
Septima mortali Merope tibi Sysiphe nupsit,
Paenitet & facti sola pudore latet:
Sive quod Electrae Trojae spectare ruinas
Non tulit, ante oculos opposuit (que) manum.

[Page]
Their Father's load the Pleiades help to bear,
Accounted seven, although but six appeare▪
Perhaps because but six by Gods were kist,
For, they say, Sterope could not Mars resist.
Halcyone and Celaeno Neptune mov'd,
Jove, Maja, Electra and Taygeta lov'd.
Merope the seventh to Sysiphus was wed,
A Man, and therefore blushing hides her head.
Perhaps Electra her greiv'd eyes retyr'd,
And seren'd them with her hand when Troy was fir'd.

( w) Kid] The Goate, with whose Milk Amalthaea suckled Iupiter, for which ser­vice he advanced it into the fellowship of the Stars.

HERO TO LEANDER.

The Argument.
VVHat sorrow springs from cro'st delights,
To slow Leander Hero writes,
And chides his fear, but prayes he will
Of such a storme bee fearfull still;
So him a storme, no Mistresse stayes,
A doubt, that Absence strives to raise;
But she knowes▪ Neptune stops her Love▪
[Page]For which she does the God reprove:
And the adventrous Youth conjures,
Untill his hope a Calme secures,
That he will not himselfe ingage;
Because her fears his fate presage.
THe health Leander, thou hast sent me home
In words, if thou wilt make it reall, come.
All stop of joyes to me will mortall prove,
Excuse this Truth, a passion swayes my Love.
Our flames are equall, but our strengths not so,
Sure Men their crosses better undergo.
As our sex tender, so our minds are weake,
Stay a while longer and my heart will breake.
You hunt, you fruitfull husbandry intend,
And tedious time with vary'd pleasure spend▪
Buis'ness detaines you; for the crowned course
You 'noint, you manage the rough bounding horse;
You birds to nets, fish to the hooke betray:
Get Wine, and drink a serious houre away.
These suite not me, or could my flame remove,
'Las what remaines for me to do, but love▪
What there remains, my only joy, I do,
J love, and more then you imagine too.
[Page]My Nurse and I still talke of thee, I say
Sure 'tis some strange occasion makes him stay.
Or looking on the sea, that wildly raves,
I act thy part, and chide the frantick waves;
Or if their rage a little they restraine,
That you may come, but will not, I complaine;
While in my wounded eyes the tears do stand,
VVhich our old freind wipes with her trembling hand.
I search the shore too, if thy steps be in't,
As if the fraile sand could retaine a print.
That I may write, or heare, I send to know
If any of ABYDOS come or go.
'Twere long to tell, how J with kisses weare
The robe, that, swimming back thou leav'st me here.
Thus having spent the day, when friendly night
Hath broke the Sun into a spangled light,
Forthwith upon the Turret we display
The waking Torch, that still directs thy way:
And spinning our round-turning flax the while,
VVe lazy time with female art beguile.
Thou ask'st of what our long discourse we frame,
My lips breath nothing but Leander's name.
Nurse thou beleev'st my Love is now come out,
Js not the house still waking? that's his doubt.
Do'st thou not think he's going now to swimme?
[Page]And that he hath ( 1) annointed every limbe.
She nods, not that she thinks wee'l meet againe,
But sleep crawles up and jogs her aged braine.
After a long pawse, now he comes I cry;
And now his slow armes put the water by;
And ere my spindle thrice the floore can kiss,
I ask, is he not halfe way o're by this?
Then we looke out, and trembling make our pray'r,
Thou maist passe safely with a gentle aire.
Our ears then catch at sounds, and if we hoare
The least noise, we suppose Leander there.
VVhen we have almost thus deceiv'd the night,
A slumber steales away my wearied sight.
I then sleep with thee, howsoere unkind,
And thou com'st to me, though against thy mind.
For now me thinks I see thee swimming near,
Now thy wet armes upon my shoulders beare.
Now, as I us'd to do, on thee I cast
My Mantle, now my breast to thine clasp fast;
VVith much besides, my tongue must not unfold,
That's handsome done, that is not handsome told.
Aye me! as false as short these pleasures prove,
For when I wake, thou ever do'st remove.
Oh may our longings once more firmely meet,
And find the joyes of Love as true as sweet!
[Page]So many widdow'd nights a-cold why lay
Thy wife? Slow swimmer, why so oft away?
The sea indeed may now a swimmer fright,
But yet a pleasant gale breath'd yester night;
Why was so faire a season lost? or how
Slipt this uncaught? why didst not feare till now?
Thou maist perhaps be with like fortune blest.
But this was first, and doubtless therefore best;
But soon the sea will have an alter'd face.
Yet thou hast swumme it in a lesser space.
Caught with a storme, thou couldst not tremble here,
Nor I, embracing thee, could winter feare.
J then should love to heare a tempest roare,
And wish the sea might ne're be quiet more.
Vaine as the sea, whence do these changes rise?
Do'st thou now feare, what thou didst once despise?
Thou swam'st it, I remember, when as great,
Or not a much less storme did ruine threat,
While I cry'd to thee, O rash Youth returne,
Least I, alas, thy too much courage mourne.
Whence springs this feare? that courage whether fled?
VVher's the great swimmer that no gulph could dread?
Yet rather be as y'are, then as you were,
And come securely when the sky is cleare.
So you continue as (you write) your Love,
[Page]And that great flame does not cold ashes prove.
For I feare not so much the winds delay,
As that, like to the wind, thy Love should stray.
And I a trifle of no price be thought,
A poore reward with too much danger bought.
Sometimes I feare, one at Abydos born
To owne a Sestian wife perhaps may scorn.
Yet any thing I rather would endure,
Then that a Mistresse should thy stay procure;
And thou should'st dally out this time, embrac'd
In other armes, old love by new defac't.
Oh let me perish, ere so wounded be,
And may my death prevent that crime in thee:
I speak not this, as knowing thee to blame,
Or as made jealous by the breath of fame;
But I feare all things, for who loves secure?
The place makes absent Lovers never sure.
She's blest, that by her presence, so findes out
True crimes, that she the false ones needs not doubt.
Toyes, as much vex us, as fear'd wrong deceives,
Like stings in th'absence either errour leaves.
VVould thou wouldst come, or by the winds wert stay'd,
Or Parents, not by a new Love delay'd;
VVhich should I know, the greife my life would date;
Beleeve it, and thy sin would be my fate.
[Page]But sin thou wilt not, I in vaine suspect,
Thy coming only is by winter checkt.
VVoes me! what billowes weep upon the shore,
And with what blacks the sky is covered ore!
Sure Helle's ( 2) Mother to our sea is come,
And poures these pious teares on her childs tombe;
Or because nam'd from Helle it hath been,
Her ( 3) Stepmother turn'd Sea-nimph, shewes her spleen
Poore women ever by this sea were crost,
Here Helle perisht, and here I am lost.
But Neptune were thy own flames call'd to mind▪
VVe should me-thinks not suffer by the wind.
( 5) Amimone, ( 6) Tyro for beauty fam'd,
Are of thy faults no fables idly fram'd.
( 7) Alymon's child, ( 8) Halcyone the faire,
( 9) Circe; Medusa, ere Snakes curl'd her haire.
( 11) Laodice with Sun-beames on her head,
( 12) Celaeno, now a star; names J have read:
These and more Beauties, Poets do report
Thy watry Deity found time to court.
Thou that hast doated on so many a forme,
Canst thou divide poore Lovers with a storme?
Forbeare, ô cruell! vex a Maine more wide,
These narrow seas two ( 13) parts oth' earth divide▪
Thou that art Great, should'st make great vessels shrink
[Page]Vnder a tempest, or whole Navies sink.
Fye, the Seas Deity a young swimmer fright,
No Poole would glory in so poore a spight.
Hee's noble, great his Ancestors have bin,
Yet to ( 14) Sea-crost Ʋlysses he's no kin.
Oh spare us both, he swims, but thou maist save
Two Lovers, at the mercy of one wave.
Just at these words the Torch (by which I write)
Sparkles, and with good omens glad's our sight.
Nurse on the flame casts wine, and vowes she thinks
Strangers will come to morrow, and then drinks.
Be thou the stranger, pass the conquered Maine,
Thou that do'st in my conquer'd bosome raigne.
Come fugitive, that hast from thy colours fled:
Why do I lye ith' middle of the bed?
What art afraid of? thy attempt will please
( 15) The Sea-born Venus, who will calme the seas.
Oft would I come to thee, but that I find
This sea was ever to your sex more kind;
Phryxus and Helle both for Colchis bound,
Poore maid, she only in this sea was drown'd.
Perhpas thou fear'st our Ports may shipping lack,
And 'twill be too much trouble to swim back.
Or I will swim, and meet thee halfe the way,
And kisse thee on the surface of the sea:
[Page]Thence back unto our countryes will we go,
Poore comfort, better this then nothing though.
Or would the Modesty that hides our flame,
And timerous Love could but dispense with Fame.
Now ill-joyn'd Feare and Love distract my breast,
Which shall I choose? that suits, this pleases best.
When ( 16) Jason landed on the Colchian shore,
Forthwith a shipbord he Medea bore.
No time at Lacedaemon ( 17) Paris spent,
But with his prize forthwith to sea he went.
As oft as thou arrivest, thou leav'st thy Love:
And swim'st away, when ships dare hardly move.
But so (thou tamer of a storme) so do,
That scorning of the sea, thou feare it too.
Ships built by art, are wrackt upon our shores,
Think'st thou thy armes are stronger then their oares?
What thou do'st wish, to swim, that seamen feare,
That makes so many ships floate, broken here.
Alas, I would disswade what I advise,
My counsell let thy stronger soule despise.
However come, and thy tyr'd armes, opprest
With churlish billowes, on my shoulders rest.
But still when J he hold the azure flood,
Some horrid instinct freezes up my blood.
Nor less ill-fortune boads my Dreame last night,
[Page]Though I to ( 18) purge it miss'd no holy rite.
For when, neare day-breake, the Torch sleepy grew,
About the very houre that dreames prove true;
My distaffe from my hand (with sleep now dead)
Fell down, and on my pillow dropt my head.
And in my sleep a Dolphin I did see
Toss'd on the waves, still making towards mee:
But on the sand when the poore thing was cast,
Water and life from it together past.
Be what it will, I feare; nor slight my dreame,
Nor venture thou, but on a friendly streame.
Feare, if not for thy selfe, yet for thy Wife,
That lives but in the safety of thy life.
But broken Billowes hope of peace present,
Cut thou the smooth waves when the storme is spent.
Meane time, till thou to swim hast open seas,
Thy hatefull stay let these my lines appease.

Annotations upon HERO'S Letter TO LEANDER.

(1 Annointed] Leander (it appeares) was twice nointed. First, at his going into the water, with plaine oyle of Olive.

Iamne fuas humeris illum deponere vestes?
Tingere jam pingui Pallade membra putes?

Do'st thou not thinke he▪s going now to swim▪
And that he hath annointed every [...]?

The second time, the faire Hero at his arrivall, [...] nointed his body, but [Page] how? [...] - with fragrant oyle of Roses- [...] -that extinguish­ed the fulsome smell, so Musaeus; thus I.

And nointed him with Roses, that consum'd
The offensive smell, and left him all perfum'd.

(2) Helle's Mother] Nephele wife to King Athamas, (see letter h.) who being turn'd into a Sea-Nymph, is very happi­ly fancy'd by Ovid to visit her daughters watry Sepulcher; and weeping is no less proper to her, the Greek word [...] sig­nifying a weeping Cloud. Nor do I doubt, but the Poet would have mentioned a visit from her father, whom he Meta­morphosed into a River, but that hee thinks it not agreeable to Hero's modesty to talke of men, nor with the Maxim's of her sex, to beleeve that a Man can love so constantly and passionately as a Wo­man.

(3) Her Stepmother] Ino, of whom in the letter ( h)

(5) Amimone] Danaus's daughter, a Huntress; and while she used exercise [Page] and action ( Diana's great Antidote against the Philters of Venus) so severe a punisher of every lascivious thing, that she cast her dart at a sleeping Satyr, and let out some of his wanton blood; but the Mo­desty hardned by the Woods, was softned by the Waters, for Neptune prevayled with her, who rescued her from the awaked Satyr, and enjoyed her himselfe.

(6) Tyro] daughter to that proud King of Elis, Salmoneus, who being am­bitious to counterfeit Jove's thunder and lightning, made a bridge of brass, which raised upon stupendious arches, covered the greatest part of the City of Elis, over whose heads he thundred in his furious Chariots, and lightned more dangerously then the sky, for that only blastes some, but this fire inevitably destroyed all it fell upon, they being instantly dispatched of their lives, by the miinsters of his fury. But Lucian might have forborne to jeere Iove with Salmoneus, if he had considered a truer History then his own, that assures us, this mock-lightning was revenged with [Page] a true-thunderbolt, that struck that proud and cruell Salmoneus: to avoyd whose Fire-works, perhaps the faire Tyro ('tis Propertius calls her so) fell among the Water-works of Neptune, who had two boyes by her, Neleus and Pelias. Proper­tius l. 7.

(7) Abymon's child] Iphidemia; who brags in Homer, that she had issue by Nep­tune.

(8) Halcyone] one of the seven daugh­ters of Atlas and Pleione, and mother to Halcyone the wife of Ceyx▪ (see letter f.)

(9) Circe] daughter to the Sun, and the Nymph Perseis▪ mentioned by Hesiod in his [...]. This Circe was marryed to the King of Sarmatia, whom she poy­soned, and usurped the Crowne, but governed so tyrannically▪ that the people rose up in armes and expelled her: thence she fled into Italy, and seated her selfe in the Circean hills▪ (so named from her plan­tation) a place abounding with excellent Wine and Oysters▪ (sayes Iuvenal) and af­fording many hearbs which (with help of [Page] her Wine) transformed Vlysses his follow­ers into Hogs. Iuv. S. 15.

Et cum remigibus grunnisse Elpenora porcis▪
Elpenor grunted with his Mates turn'd Swine.

In these hills (then the bounds of La­tium) Circe fell in love with the Sea-God Glaucus (mention'd letter g.) and poy­soned the fountaine where his Mistresse Scylla used to drink, transforming her in­to a Sea-monster.

(10) Medusa] Begot upon a Whale by Phoroys King of Corsica and Sardinia, with whose haire (not to be distinguisht from the purest threads of Gold) Neptune was so taken, that he could not forbeare to make love to her in the Temple of Mi­nerva, which put the Godelesse into such a rage, that she turned those bewitching haires into horrid snakes, induing them with a quality to transforme all their be­holders into Stone. And therefore Per­seus when he undertooke the killing of this Monster, borrow'd Minerva's steele­shield, [Page] wherein he might see her, without looking upon her, that is by reflection: and coming to the other 2. Gorgons her sisters threatned her that had the eye (for they had but one betwixt them) that he would kill her, unlesse she shewed him Medusa sleeping, which she did, and he dispatcht at a blow, cutting off Medusa's ugly head, which ever after Minerva bore in her Shield. pugnanti Gorgone Maura. Iuv. Sat. 12.

(11) Laodice] Mother to Cignus, and daughter to Priam.

(12) Celaeno] Halcyone's Sister and a­nother of Neptune's Mistresses, See Let­ter ( u)

(13) Two parts o'th world, viz. Eu­rope and Asia▪ severed by the Helles-pont: See the discourse of Sestos and Abydos.

(14) Sea-cross'd Ulysses] King of the Isles of Ithaca and Dulichium, a great Po­lititian, but no fighter, for when the Greek Princes made their Association against the Trojans, he being desirous to live at home with his young Wife in Peace, ga­thers [Page] together a multitude of severall Animals and str [...]es falt before them, the report whereof being spread abroad made the Grecians believe him to be mad, and therefore uselesse for the Wars. But Palamed who was excellent at invention, for 'tis said he found out Cards and Dice, weights, measures, diverse Greeke Letters, Voting in Courts of Iudicature, &c. a­mong the rest, found out the Knavery of Ulysses, by laying his young son Telema­chus before him as hee was holding the Plough, who stopping on a sudden for feare of hurting the Child, discovered himselfe to have the use of reason, and then there was no remedy but he must to the siedge of Troy. Where even his affe­ctionate Penelope was afraid his Policy might want successe, especially when she heard of the miscarriage of any plot. Ovid in Penelope's Letter.

Sive Menaetiadem falsis cecidisse sub armis:
Flebam successu posse carere dolos,

[Page]
Or told, that in false Armes Patroclus fell,
I wept to think, Deceipt might not speed well.

It had been happy for poore Palamedes, if Penelope had proved a Prophetesse; for the designe Vlysses had upon him took so well, that it cost Palamed his life; It was Priam's hand counterfeited to a letter sent to Palamed wherein he thanks him for In­telligence, and mentions a great summe of Gold sent him for Intelligence-mony. This being read in a Councell of Warre, Vlys­ses rises and delivers his opinion, that no credit is to bee given to an Enemy's Let­ter, only the matter of fact should be in­sisted on, and his Tent searched, which being done accordingly, the Gold (sent by Vlysses and hid by one of the Palamed's corrupted servants) was found, and guilt­lesse Palamedes stoned to death. See the Metamorph, lib. 13. For these his Vil­lanies done a- land, Vlysses suffered and was crost at Sea, where Neptune so per­secuted him, that although he was ready sometimes to land in Ithaca, yet he was [Page] blowne back, and tossed about the world. Read Homer's Odysses where he discovers his adventures, but at last he came off by the favour of the Goddess of Wisdom. I. Sabinus. in Vlyssis Epist.

Iam mihi nescio quo comitem se litore jungit
Pallas, & hospitibus per loca tuta trahit,

On strange coasts shipwrackt, Pallas now descends,
Findes me safe Lares, and hospitable friends.

Lastly by this Deity's guidance, he got home in the habit of a beggar; where he found his sonne with his workmen in the fields, and laying the plot to come unex­pected upon his Wive's uncivill suitors, he was carryed to his Palace by a hogg­heard that knew him not, and armes be­ing secretly hid for that purpose, he, his son, and his hindes tooke them up, and kil­led all those lewd intruders, to a man. But learning of the Oracle that his Sonne should kill him, he kept out of the way, [Page] to avoyd his legitimate sonne Telemachus, and was unwittingly slaine by his bastard son Telegonus, one he had by Circe, that came with an intention to waite upon him. Which teaches us the truth of what the Historian Tacitus sayes, quae fato manent, quamvis significata, non vitantur. What remaines in Fate, though foretold, is not to be avoyded. And therefore I shall advise the curiosity of men, with the same Author, De moribus Germanorum. Sanctius ac reverentius visum, de actis Deorum cre­dere quam scire. It shewes more holy and more reverent, rather to believe then know the actions of the heavenly Powers. In Vlysses, Homer gives the perfect Cha­racter of a VVorldly Wise-man, see Natalis Comes. l. 9. c. 1.

(15) Sea-born] [...]. ‘He Sea-born Venus oft implor'd.’

(16) Iason] Son to Aeson King of Thes­saly, and by him, on his death-bed, be­queathed to the tuition of his▪ brother [Page] Pelias, to whom he left his Crown, with condition to restore it to Iason, when hee came to age fit for government; but the Queen-Dowager Alcimedes, fearing Peli­as would make away his Nephew, con­veighed her young sonne to the Centaur Chiron, that rare Musitian, Martialist, and Physitian; tutor to Aesculapius, Hercules, and Achilles. Iuv. Sat. 7.

Metuens virgae jam grandis Achilles,
Cantabat patris in montibus, &c.

When's rod his Centaur Singing-master shakt,
Achilles, in his fathers mountaine quakt,
Though a great boy: yet who, ev'n then, could faile
But laugh, to see a Master with a taile.

Iason now grown learned and accomplisht under the hand of Chiron, no sooner was out of his non-age▪ but he came to court, accompanyed with the young Gentry of Greece, and made his claim to the Crown. But subtile Pelias, finding that his specu­lative [Page] Learning had inflamed him with a vast desire of glory, complyed with his ambitious thoughts so long, till at last he put him upon the famous expedition for Colchis, to restore to the Greeks the Golden­fleece, which Phryxus (see h.) had carried from Thebes and consecrated to Mars in Colchis. Who presently, with the good liking of the Grecians, began his voyage in the Argo. (see o.) And by the instructi­ons of King Phineas passing safe between the meeting Gyan Rocks that guard the mouth of the Thracian Bosphoros, he ar­riv'd at Colchis, where the Princess Me­dea, enamoured of the gallantry and un­daunted courage of Iason, taught him how to quel the Bulls, whose hoofs were brass, and to bring into a sleep the ever­waking Dragon. Following her advise he carryed away the Golden-Fleece and his faire Counseller; another Prize in Hero's account, but Seneca the Tragaedian reck­ons it otherwise.

—Quod fuit huius
Praetium cursus: Aurea Pellis.
[Page]Majus (que) Mari Medea Malum,
Merces prima digna Carina.

What got the Greeks with such adoe?
The Golden-Fleece, Medea too,
A curse that did the Sea out-strip,
A Lading worthy the first Ship.

(17) Paris] The effeminate sonne to that stout old Prince, Priam King of Troy, who had been happy sayes Ju­venal S. 10.

Si foret extinctus diverso tempore, quo jam
Caep [...]rat audaces Paris aedificare carinas.
Longa dies igitur quid contulit? omnia vidit
Eversa, & slammis Asiam ferro (que) cadentem.
Tunc Miles tremulus positâ tulit arma tiarâ.
Et ruit ante aram summi Iovis, ut vetulus bos
Qui domini cultris tenu [...] et miserable collum
Praebet, ab in grato jam fastiditus aratro.

[Page]
If he had dy'd before his son's foule guilt,
Ere wanton Paris his bold ships had built,
What did long life confer? a sight o'th fall
Of Asia, fire and sword devouring all.
Then for his Crown th'old trembling soul­dier took
A Helmet; and at great Jove's altar struck,
Fell like an Oxe, in his old age despis'd,
And by th'ingratefull ploughman sacrifiz'd.

But he had a nobler fate then his aged Queen Hecuba, as it followes in the Saty­rist▪

Exitus ille vncun (que) hominis, sed torua canino
Latravit rictu, quae post hunc vixerat uxor.

Yet Priam dy'd a man, his wrinckled Wife
Surviv'd a Bitch, and bark't away her life.

The cause of this fiction was, for that Hecuba following the Greekes to the sea­side and bitterly lamenting, if not curs­ing [Page] them, for being the ruin of her house, they cry'd out she bark't, and tearing her to pieces, said she was turn'd into a Bitch. Vlysses in Sabinus tells the passage, where he sayes the first ill omen of his crosses at Sea, was her strange fate, he meanes her curses.

Prima meis Omen metuendum puppibus illa
Fecit, non membris ipsa reperta suis.
Latratu miseras finivit maesta querelas,
Et stetit in rabidam protinus acta canem,

The first fear'd Omen to my ship she gave,
No piece found of her to fill up a grave.
The poor wretch barking her last woes we heard
Straight metamorphos'd, a mad bitch ap­pear'd

But all this which the GREEKES call'd barking, was only the violence of dying passion, and the bowels of a mo­ther to her Children, expressed not alone at her own and their funeralls, but [Page] likewise at the birth of Paris; for she pre­served him in his swathing clouts, when Priam had commanded his servant Arche­laus to make away the child, upon a de­claration of the sooth-sayers: that Hecu­ba's dreame of her being delivered of a Fire-brand, signified, the child she went with, [ Paris] should be the cause of firing Troy. But notwithstanding the Kings se­vere command, the compassionate Queen Hecuba (for that very act deserving a no­bler Metamorphosis) made the infant be put forth to nurse among the shepherds of the mountaine Ida, where he fell ena­moured of the Nymph Oenone. Of which his love and pastorall life the forsaken Nymph remembers him when he had stollen away HELLEN; Ovid in Oenone, verse 3.

Perlegis? an conjux prohibet nova, perlege, non est
Ista Mycenaea litera scripta manu.
Quis deus opposuit nostris sua numina votis,
Ne tua permaneam, quod mihi crimen obest?
[Page]Leniter, ex merito quic quid patiare, ferendum est:
Quae venit indignè paena dolenda venit.
Nondum tantus eras, cum to cont [...]nt [...] marito,
Edita de magno Flumine, nympha fui.
Qui nunc Priamedes (absit reverentia vero)
Servus eras: servo nubere nympha tuli.
At oum pauper eras, armenta (que) pastor agebas,
Nulla, nisi Oenone, pauperis uxor erat.
Nec me, fagineâ quod tecum fronde jacebam,
Despice, purpureo sum magis apta thoro.
Deni (que) tutus amor meus est: tibi nulla parantur
Bella, nec ultrices advehit unda rates.
Tyndaris infestis fugitiva reposcitur armis,
Hac venit in thalamos dote superba tuos.

Read'st thou? or does thy new wife counter­mand?
But read, this is not Agamemnon's hand,

And a little further.

[Page]
What God opposes to our Wills his Force
Or what's my Crime, that causes this Di­vorce?
What merit suffers, patience must sustain.
What undeserv'd comes, that's a grievous pain.
Thou wert not great, when I, that boast de­scent
From a great river, was with thee content.
Thou now a Prince wert ( Truth may be spoke free)
A servant, I a Nymph then marry'd thee.
When thou wert poore, and led'st a shep­herds life,
None but Oenone was the poore mans wife.
Nor scorn me that with thee I us'd to sit
On Beech-tree-leafes, for purple beds more fit.
Lastly my love is safe, on it attends
No war, no threatning Fleet to sea it sends.
Hellen the fugitive by arms is sought,
This Portion to thy bed that proud one brought.

[Page]Thus you heare how Paris spent his time in Ida, whether upon the fame of his justice, (his only vertue and soon after put off with his shepherds weeds) came the three Goddesses, Iuno, Pallas, and Venus, to have his judgement in their claimes to the Golden apple (by discord shuffled in a­mong the fruit that was served up at Pele­us his wedding) with this inscription up­on it, Let this be given to the fairest: they appeared to him like Vandike's Mistresse when he drew her Picture, and all made larg promises, but VENUS'S offer liked him best, for she promised HELLEN to him, as he writes to Hellen. OVID in Paride.

Praeposui regnis ego te, quae maxima qondam
Pollicita est nobis nupta soror (que) Iovis,
Dum (que) tuo possem circumdare brachia collo,
Contempta est virtus Pallade dante mihi.

Although the sister and great wife to Iove
Promis'd me Kingdomes, I prefer'd thy love
[Page]And so my armes might thy▪ faire neck sur­round,
I scorn'd the Wisdome Fallas did propound▪

Thus the young Inamorato, Paris, con­temning the offers of Iuno & Pallas, Sove­raignty and Wisdom, only that he might en­joy Venus's promise, pleasure, had his wish as Agrypina in Tacitus had hers, oecidat dum imperet, let him kill me, so he be an Em­perour, for as Nero to his Mother, so was Hellen to her Servant, his desired ruin. Her husband Menelaus with the confederate▪ Grecians pursuing of the ravisher, and be­seiging him in Troy, to which at last the Flame that Paris fancyed to bee Love, prov'd to be the fire his sister Cassandra prophesied, and his Mother dreamed of, that consumed Troy to ashes.

(18) To purge it] It was the custome of the Ancient Greeks, after any accident portending misfortune, to purge them­selves and the place by Torch-light, with a lustration made of meale, thereon cast­ing hallowed water, which they cal [...]; and in this water they quenched a brand [Page] taken from the altar, wherewith the sprinkled the assembly. The ROMAN▪ added Sulphur and Laurell. Juvena▪ Sat. 2.

—Cuperent lustrari, siqua darentur
Sulphura cum taedis, & si foret humida laurus.

Would purify themselves, if they could get
Sulphur, and Torches, and a Lawrell wet.

ERRATA.

IN Hero and Leander, r. [a gentle flame] various court­ship] [banish't thence] billowes roll'd] In the first Annotations [ [...]] indubitatum] risible faculty] [...], In Leander to Hero [darkned by thy blaze] In the last Annotations [ utcun (que).]

FINIS. [Page] [Page]

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