English

But now t' auoyd those ommous conceits
Sleepe did afford, she quickly vp arose,
Leauing the snow-white, soft, and lawny sheets,
Impouerish'd thereby t' enrich her cloes,
Which to presage her worser-comming woes,
That day by fortune were of colour blacke:
And thus vnwares deaths liuery she doth take.

In which her heart-bereauing beauty shin'd,
Like faire Diana in the sable night,
Or like a polisht Diamond of Ind,
Set in blacke Iet, to glue a glance more bright,

But if more pitty in their sauage hearts,
There be nor was in thy remorslesse mind,
Thinke that the same nought els to thee imparts,
But as thou nature, so they'l passe their kind,
Which being to rapine and to bloud inclin'd,
Yet least it were a benefite to thee,
From tortring thoughts deny thy soule to free.

And sometimes while the Turtle moanes her make,
With many a heauie, shrill, and piteous crie,
Leaning her soft brest to a withered stake,

Innated hatred, bred in either blood,
Of Carthaginian and of Romaine race,
Farre worse then death, feare of their seruitude,
Made thee alas, to thinke it lesse disgrace,
To haue beene sacrificed in that place,
By some — bloud guilty hand, nor liu'd a Queene,
In chaines of gold, in Romes faire Citty seene.

Which made thee to relye thy hopes on me,
Whom neighbourhood and nature did combine,
Com'd of Italian bloud by no degree,
But of that ancient great Numidian line,

Ay me! vnhappy, thus to minde her rarieties,
To which all hearts and eyes did owe their feauty,
Whiles all her vertues (as contesting parties;)
Doe now vpbraid me with the breach of duty,
For had she not beene of such birth and beauty;
And alwayes matchlesse-excellent, God knowes,
Her mischiefes had beene lesse, and lesse my woes.

For, oh! this grieues me more then death ten-fold,
To thinke that one of such desert must dye,
And that I haue not power to controul't,

But they like volleys, willing to be wrocken,
On it poore toung, that staid their course so long,
Disorderly do march, their rankes being broken
All would be first for to reueng their wrong,
Euen as wee see a mad vnruly throng,
Of countrey Clownes, to sack some bordering towne,
Run swarming from the hills and mountaines downe.

Or as a Christall current, that is staid,
To pay his debtfull tribute to the sea,
His channell stopt, whereby his course delayd,

It was the time by this the post departed,
That golden Phaebus hides his glorious beames,
Low in the Westerne Ocean, when vncarted:
His neighing steeds leauing their wearied teames,
Whose mouthes through trauell yet the froth out fumes,
Goes to their nightly manger, and their guide,
In Thetis lap his hoary head did hide.

A sable darkenesse did the earth o'reshed,
And busie labourers left their dayly toile:
Way-faring Pilgrims wished peryods made

Sad Massinissa , swoolne with griefe and rage,
When all his credit seru'd not to intreat
His braue victorious friend, to dis-ingage
His late-spous'd Lady from a seruile state:
Halfe mad, distraught, confus'dly doth hee write,
To show, the Romaine Conqueror thinks to send
Her as a slaue his triumph to attend.

But lo (quoth he) t'auoyd this vnkind doome,
And that my oath vn-uiolate remaine,
Made once to thee, thou neuer shouldst see Rome:

To my kinde friend Da: Murray.
I N new attire (and put most neatly on)
Thou Murray mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,
As when she sat on the Numidian throne,
Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.
So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,
That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,
Into a body of delicious ayres:
Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,
That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,
Bred those that coldly but expres'd her merit,
But breathing now vpon our colder shore,

Even as the Eagle through the empty skie,
Conuoies her young ones on her soaring wings,
Aboue the azur'd vaults, till shee them brings,
Where they on Phaebus glorious beames may pry:
So (mighty Prince) my Muse now soares on high,
Aboue the vulgar reach, to higher spheares,
With this scarse ripened Eaglet-birth of hers,
Vnto the view of your Maiestick eye,
But if it hap, as hap, I feare, it shall,
Shee may not bide your censures dazeling touch,
The higher flight, the more renowned fall,

HENRY Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and
Rothsay, Knight of the most noble order of the
Garter .

Thrise Noble Prince, by birth, by blood, by fame,
Renown'd by all, whom all men do adore,
Not so much lou'd for greatnesse of your name,
As for those vertues does your name decore:
Young Haeros , whose haeroick actions sore
Beyond the limits of your yet-spent yeares,
Braue stately minde, wherein this time doth glore,