Fuimus Troes Æneid. 2. The true Troianes, being a story of the Britaines valour at the Romanes first inuasion: Publikely represented by the gentlemen students of Magdalen Colledge in Oxford.

Act. 1. Scen. 4.

Eulinus, Hirildas.

Eul.

The Court a wardrobe is of liuing shapes: And Ladies are the tissue-spangled suites, Which Nature weares on festiuall high dayes. The Court a Spring, each Madame is a Rose. The Court is Heauen, faire Ladies are the Starres.

Hiril.

I, falling Starres.

Eul.

False Eccho, don't blaspheme that glorious sexe, Whose beautious raies can strike rash gazers blind.

Hir.

Loue should be blind.

Eul.

Pray, leaue this Cynicke humour, whilst I sigh My Mistresse praise: Her beauty's past compare: O would she were more kind, or not so faire. Her modest smiles both curb and kindle loue: The Court is darke without her; when Shee rises, The morning is her hand-maid, strewing roses About loues Hemispheare: The lampes aboue Eclipse themselues for shame, To see her eies Out-shine their Chrysolites, and more blesse the skies, Than they the Earth —

Hir.

Giue me her Name.

Eul.

Her body is a Chrystall cage, whose pure

Transparent mould not of grosse elements Compacted, but the extracted Quintessence Of sweetest formes distill'd: where Graces bright Doe liue immur'd, but not exempt from sight. —

Hir.

I prethee speake her.

Eul.

Her modell is beyond all Poets braynes, And Painters pencells: All the liuely Nymphes, Syrens, and Dryads, are but kitchin-maydes, If you compare. To frame the like Pandore, The Gods repine, and Nature would grow poore.—

Hir.

By Loue, who ist? hath she no mortall Name?

Eul.

For heere you find great Iunoes stately front, Palla's gray eie, Venus her dimpled chinne, Auroraes rosie fingers, the small wast Of Ceres daughter, and Medusaes haire, Before it hist:—

Hir.

O Loue, as deafe, as thou art blind! Good Eulinus Call home thy soule, and tell thy Mistresse name.

Eul.

O strange! what ignorant still? when as so plainely These Attributes describe her: why? She is A Rhapsody of Goddesses. The Elyxar Of all their seuerall perfections. She is (Now blesse your eares) by mortals called Landora.

Hir.

What: Landora the Trinobanticke Lady? How grow your hopes, what mettall is her breast?

Eul.

All steele and adamant. Tis beauties pride, To staine Her lilly white with blood of Louers slaine. Their groanes make musick, and their scalding sighes Raise a perfume, and vulture-like she gnawes Their bleeding hearts. No gifts, no learned flattery, No stratagems can worke Landoraes battery. As a tall Rocke maintaines maiesticke state, Though Boreas gallop on the tottering seas, And tilting split his froath out spurging waues Vpon his surly breast: So she resists: And all my proiects on her cruell hart, Are but retorted to their Authors smart.

Hir.

Why then, let scorne succeed thy loue, and brauely Conquer thy selfe, If thou wilt conquer her: Stomackes, with kindnesse cloy'd, Disdaine must stirre.

Eul.

Most impious thoughts! O let me rather perish, And louing die, than liuing cease to loue: And when I faint, let her but heare me cry, Aye me, there's none, which truely loues, but I.

Hir.

O ye crosse darts of Cupid! this very Ladie, This Lady-waspe woes me, as thou dost her, With glaunces, iewells, bracelets of her haire, Lasciuious banquets, and most eloquent eies: All which my heart misse-consters as immodest, It being pointed for another Pole. But hence learne courage, Coosse; why stand you dumbe? Women are women, and may be ore-come.

Eul.

Your words are eare-awigges to my vexed braine Like henn-bane iuice, or Aconite diffus'd They strike me senselesse. My kinsman, and Hirildas to my end: But I'le neere call you Counsellor, or Friend Adieu.

Hir.

Stay, stay. For now I meane with gentler breath. To waft you to your happy landing place. Seeing this Crocodile pursues me flying, Flyes you pursuing: wee'l catch her by a tricke: With promise fain'd, I'le' point a Cupids stage, But in the night, and secret, and disguizd: Where thou, which art my selfe, shalt act my part; In Venus games, all Coosning goes for Art.

Eul.

Blest be these meanes, and happy the Successe. Now gin I reare my creast aboue the Moone, And in those guilded bookes read Leactures of The Faeminine Sexe. There moues Cassiope, Whose garments shine with thirteene pretious stones, Types of as many vertues: Then her Daughter, Whose Beauty without Perseus would haue tam'd The monstrous Fish, glides with a Starry Crowne: Then Iust Asttea kembes her golden haire:

And my Landora can become the skies, As well as They. Oh, how my ioyes doe swell! He mounted not more proud, whose burning Throne Kindled the Cedar-toppes, and quafft whole fountaines. Flye then, ye winged houres, as swift as thought, Or my desires: Let dayes bright Waggoner Fall headlong, and lye buried in the deepe, And dor-mouse-like Alcides night out-sleep. Good Tethys, quench his Beames, that He nere rise, To scorch the Moores, to sucke vp hony-dewes, Or to betray my person. But prethee tell, What Mistresse you adore?

Hir.

The kind Cordella, Louing, and Belou'd: Onely some iarre of late about a Fauour Made me inueigh gainst women. Come, away, Our plottes desire the night, not babbling day.

Eul.

We must giue way: Here come our reuerend Barde To sing in Synode, as their Custome is, With former chance comparing present deedes.

Exeunt.