The faire Æthiopian Dedicated to the King and Queene. By their Maiesties most humble subiect and seruant, William L'isle.

THE Faire Aethiopian. (Book 1)

ABout the Tongues when diuers with me wrangle, And count our English but a mingle mangle, I tell them, all are such; and in conclusion Will grow so more by curse of first Confusion. The Latine, Greeke, and Hebrew are not free; Though what their borrow'd words are know not wee; Because their neighbour tongues we neuer knew; Nor what they keepe of old; nor what haue new: But count that language good, which can expresse The more of sense, in doubtfull speech the lesse; How euer now disguis'd with noueltie, Yet, framing all to prop'r Analogie; For Prose and Poetrie hath words to spare, And all that man can thinke on can declare; Will licence aske no more than others take, And line as strong, and verse as nimble make. Nor might we glorie more in sword than tongue, But that we Trewants are, and stand not long To file our Phrase: O all you Criticke blood; Rude worke, and verse that was not blur'd a good, Nor oft hath been with cunning singer scand, Reproue and marke with peremptorie brand.

Yet iudge me not, as if I thought that I Could mend the fault; but, what I can, to try, I'le sing the Faire-One borne of Parents swart, And her true Loue, and his that won her heart; How each for other manifoldly crost In warre and peace, at Sea and Land were lost; Before they could in safetie set them downe, Inioy their right, and weare th'Abissen Crowne: And how Hydaspes, Queene Candaces sonne, From Persian King Phile and Siene wonne. Yet sometime tell I lesse, and often more, Then read is in Greeke Prose of Heliodore: That Poetrie may shorten Oratorie, And with a Muses vaine improue the Storie. O Branch of flowring Gold the best that growes On face of Earth, consorted now with Rose Both white and red; Sith Helicon is thine, Me grant a sip of liquor Castaline; That I in verse this Romant so endight, As may thee and thy daintie Buds delight: Thy rare endowments euer will I sing; For Queene is Patronesse where Patron King. Blacke-winged night flew to th'Antipodes At sight of Morning Starre, and the Easterne seas With-held the rising Beame, vntill it guilt The top of trees, and turrets highest built. Then armed Band of such as liue by spoile, (A trade more old than iust) by seu'n-head Nile, Began to proule; and clambring vp the steepes Of Canopaean Outlet view'd the deepes. But seeing nought there might giue hope of pray, To neerest Strond looke backe; and thus it lay: A ship unmann'd full-fraught as seem'd to view, (For vp to th'vpper guyrt it water drew) With Cable grosse is anchor'd fast to shore, And ground there all about embrew'd with gore;

Yea strew'd with bodies wounded, some full dead, Some mouing still, or leg, or hand, or head; An argument of but-late-ended fight; Yet warlike weapon lay there none in sight. But luke-warme reliques of some dismall feast, That had such end. The tables richly drest Remaine yet standing some; and some are found In dead mens hands, and ouerturn'd aground; As vs'd for weapons at vnthought-on field; And some the men thereunder seeme to shield. The boules of gold from hand of some that drunke, And some that meant to throw them, downeward sunke. For sodaine broyle, neglecting proper parts, Their boords their bucklers made, their pots their darts. Here tumbleth one with ship-axe wounded sore; Another brain'd with beach-stone found at shore; A third his bones hath broke with woodden Mawle, And some with blocks halfe-burnt are made to sprawle. And others otherwise: the most were shot, But knew not whence, with arrowes erring not. So fight with feasting, sacrifice with slaughter, And wine with blood was mixt, and grones with laughter. Th'Aegyptian the eues beheld this from the Mount; But knew not how it came: they see and count A number slaine; who slew them they see none; A conquest plaine; and yet no Victor knowen, Nor spoile yet gather'd: though vnmann'd the ship, Yet fraught with ware, and no man gan it strip. As safe it seem'd there wauing all alone, As if it were maintain'd with garrison. Though case as yet they know not, downe they run, For spoile and gaine, as they the day had won. But comming neere the ship, and men so lying, Much more agast they were, a Mayden spying Of wondrous beautie, set vpon a rocke, And Goddesse-like; bewailing yet the shocke

There late befall'n; but with so braue a sprite, As nothing could her Princely minde affright. With lawrell crown'd she was, and at her backe Rich quiuer hung, her left arme falling slacke With bow in hand, her right, with elbow bent, And hand vpholding face, on knee she lent: Her head not mouing, downeward glance her eyes Vpon a Gallant that among them lies Extremely wounded; yet as from a deepe Began looke-up, as from a deadly sleepe; Of manly beautie still, and purer white Doe seeme his cheekes, for bloud on them allight. His eyes opprest with paine to her drew shee; Nor see he would, but only her to see. Reuiu'd a little, straight he gan her greet, And thus with feeble voice said; O my Sweet, And art thou safe indeed, or made a part Of this dayes slaught'r, and wilt not from me start? Is this thy selfe aliue, or but thy ghost Me still attends in this disaster'd coast? In thee (quoth she) is all my loue of life; Behold, (and shew'd him on her knee a knife) This had I vs'd, if thou hadst deadly slept, And saying so from off the rocke she leapt: They daunted then with feare and admiration, As strucke with lightning, sundrie in sundrie fashion Them hide in shrubs; for more she seem'd diuine Vpright now standing; so her garments shine With glittering gould reflecting th'early Sun, So clasht her arrowes like a sudden gun. Her haire from vnder garland plaid vntide With pleasant wind; yet all her backe did hide: What now they saw done terrifi'd them more (The cause vnknowen) than all was done before. Some say 'tis Isis, Goddesse of the place; But some, obseruing well her beauteous face,

Sweare 'tis Diana; some will wager ods A Virgin Priestesse of their Heathen Gods; Who, for reuenge of some vnlawfull trade, (Not thinking on their owne) this slaughter made, With holy rage inspir'd. But she forth stept Vnto that wounded Gallant, wail'd and wept, In diuers postures on the goarie ground; Him kist, and cheer'd, and wip'd his euerie wound. And, for his life, with much adoe repreeues it; But, though she holds him fast, she scarce beleeues it: Vnfained loue so reignes her heart th'rowout, That of her ioy possest she stands in doubt. The theeues obseruing all, one t'other sed; Is this a Goddesse part to kisse the dead With such compassion? courage we, and goe (What'ere it be) the certaine truth to know. So getting heart, they forward went, and found The Virgin busie about his sorest wound. Yet all behinde her backe amazed stay, And gazing on her nothing doe they fay: But at their armours sound and shadowes sight She rais'd her selfe, lookt backe, and nought affright, Or at their vgly shape, or theeuish plight, Bowes downe againe to cure her wounded Knight, All other good, or bad so Love despises, And only that it loues, to keepe deuises. The Robbers passing by before her stand, Attempting somewhat: she leant on her hand, And seeing faces blacke and ghastly, said; What would you haue that looke thus ill apaid? If yee the ghosts been of the men here laine, You doe vs wrong; for you your selues haue slaine Each others all: or, in case any wee, 'Twas in defence of sacred chastitie. But, if you liue, a theeuish life you lead, And come in time to send vs to the dead,

Then make an end of all our miseries; Lamenting so, downe by her Loue she lies. They knew not what she spoke, and nothing speake; But, seeing both so safe, because so weake, Them leaue a while, and haste the ship to rifle, And (all ware else accounting but a trifle, Though much there was) with silke and precious stone, And gold, and siluer, load them euery chone. So much they had, they could desire no more, And all they lay in seuerall packs a shore; Not shared out by worth of things, but way'd For equall portage; as for Youth and Maid, They after thinke take order: but, behold, Another troope of theeues, more strong and bold, With Leaders two on horse, came on, and then The former fled; for why? they were but ten, And thirtie these: nor take the gold or gem, For giuing th'other cause to follow them. So twice is taken, yet not captiue she, At least in minde, now well reuiu'd is he. These theeues, though bent to spoile, a while forbeare, In part to know the cause, in part for feare: And all that slaughter thinke was done by those That ran away: When they the Maid disclose, In glistring habit strange, and not dismaid With that befell; nor at their sight afraid; But wholly bent the wounded Knight to cure, And seeming all his griefe her selfe t'endure; Her minde and beautie moue them wondrously, And his long body there that lay her by. At length comes he that chiefe was of the Crew, Layes hand on her, and bids her come; she drew (Though knowing not, but ghessing what he said) The Knight with her, and he fast held the Maid; To shew themselues vnwilling both to part; And, more to signe, she set knife at her heart:

Whereby th'Aegyptian saw the Maid was loth To liue without her loue; so tooke them both; Withall, considering what good vse he may haue of so braue a Youth another day; Alights himselfe, and makes his Squire alight And sets vp first the Lady, and then the Knight. Commands the rest to take and bring the pray; Saith only these should be his charge to day. So runs them by on foot, and all the way Doth him with left and her with right hand stay, Lest either chance to fall: how these distrest Yet rode in pompe! the Conquerour is prest To serue the Captiue; beautie and noble state Is able saluage heart of theefe to mate. Now in this equipage a mile and more They trauelled along the Mid-sea shore, T'a hill-foot turne; at right hand leaue the Maine, And ore the Mountaine passe t'a watrie plaine On th'other side; a grassie fen in stile Of Aegypt call'd; where th'ouer-flouds of Nile Fall int' a Dale vnmeatly midward deepe, Though nigh the banks to muddy fen it creepe. This Stouer breeds, which some for pasture take, And as the Marsh to Sea, is Fen to Lake. Here all th'Aegyptian Robbers make their Fort, And bastard Common-wealth hold aft'r a sort. Some euer fishing seldome come off hatches, Some walke the pasture six foot high on skatches. If Islet any aboue the water peepe, Some build a Lodge there; some in boat on Deepe Both carried are and dwell, and only there Their women serue them, and their children beare. The new-borne babe with mothers milke at first, Then with Sun-rosted fish and fowle is nurst: And when he stronger growes, is tide by th'heele With rope to ship, that out he cannot reele,

Nor stagger farre: what men else euer tri'd So new deuice, with bonds the feet to guide? Though Kings of Aegypt would this Fen haue drain'd, These would not suffert't, thinking better gain'd, With ease, some fish, or fowle, or flag, or reed, Than with due care the grazing herds to feed. Where now a Pike, well might they feed an Oxe; Yea meat, drinke, cloth, haue from their bleating stocks. Yet some they graze, and Herdmen are they call'd, Though from all hand of Iustice water-wall'd. A theeuish Fort, and thither still recoyle The lawlesse Crew, and such as liue by spoyle. Their wondrous store of Cane, that on the marge Of this their Lake shoots-out both long and large, For Bulwarke serues them; hauing cut some wayes To them, not others knowen, with crooked bayes; That from assaults and sudden ouertures, As Labyrinth, their dwelling-place secures. And more than lake-fish hungry maw to soule, Fruit, herbe, and root they haue, and store of fowle. The Swan both swimming there, and flying freely, The loftie Sternet crying t'Ely, t'Ely, Th'Ibis, Halcyon, Crane with tufted rump, Storke, Shov'ler, Herneshaw, Bittour sounding Bumpe, Coot, Red-shanke, Sea-mew, Teale, Di-dapping-Chucke, Goose, Sea-pie, Moore-hen, Osprey, Widgen, Ducke: I had almost forgot that most of all Remarkabl'is, the bird that here we call The Cormorant, Embleme of Penall Law, With long, sharpe, hooked bill, edg'd like a saw, To hold an Eele, but great one seldome takes, These are the fowle that haunt the fenny Lakes. Now, as the Sunne declining lower goes, To th'eye of man he great'r and greater showes; And farther makes to shoot forth on the ground The shade of things, till all in darke be drown'd.

But ere the Set came Captaine theefe to Lake, Where his prey-loden men him ouertake. The Knight and Lady some of them dismount; Some beare aboord the spoile; but see th'account They of their Captaine made! the most him meet That went not with him, and as King him greet. And when they laid to heart the goodly pray, And her diuine aspect, they thought that day Their Complices, who care not what they lurch, Had got the spoyle of some well-furnisht Church, And brought away Shee-Priest, or Goddesse selfe, In whose compare they count the rest but pelse. So they the Master-theefe congratulate, And to his home attend him all in state. His home an Islet was, of all the best, For him and his diuided from the rest: He thither brought, with thanks commends their care, And bids them come to morrow for their share. They so dismist, short supper, but no feasts, For him prepar'd is, and his two young guests: Whom after supper (for they could not speake His language yet) he gaue in charget'a Greeke, That late was taken pris'ner, faire and young, And had by this time learn'd th'Aegyptian tongue: So might interpret for them; bids him cure The wounded Knight, and keepe the Lady sure; So, wearie and carefull, went to sleepe: but she, Now of the Greeke they also lodged be, In bed full hard by straight command alone, When all were husht time finding fit to mone, With many a deepe-fet sigh, and showre of teares, Thus unto Heau'n her piteous plaint arreares. Appollo whom so carefully we serue, Thou vs afflictest more than we deserue: Is't not enough that we are diu'n from home, Bereft of friends all ore the sea to rome;

By tempest tost, with roaring billowes shaken, And, fearing worse than death, by pyrats taken; But now at land (which most of all me greeues) Are made a prey to first and second theeues? What yet remaines? if death; so void of shame, Content I am, and thereto will me frame; Ere any get that of me, which I keepe For one deserues it: he, not yet asleepe, Her heard, and (Sweet) thou mayst bemoane thee said; But not accuse the Gods: they must be prayd. You warne me well, quoth she; but (pray) what rest? The more (quoth he) since this young man me drest. And more you shall haue, trust me, (quoth the Greeke) To morrow morning such an herbe I seeke, Where heretofore I often haue it found, That after dressing thrice shall close your wound: And maruell not that I should thus comply; Your case is mine: you Greekes are, so am I. A Greeke? (quoth they) and thereat much reioyce. A Greeke, quoth he, both by my birth and voyce. Thinke, after sorrow, hope there is of game. Then, quoth Theagenes, but what's your name? (He Cnemon said) Of whence? and how came here? O aske no more, quoth he; too long it were To tell, and matter sad; the night is deepe, And after trauell you haue need of sleepe. They instant are, and thinke it somewhat smothers Their owne mis-haps, to heare the like of others. Then he began; My father Aristippe Athenian was, and, both by land and ship, Of good estate; and when my mother did, Thought much, for one sons sake, in world so wide And full of change, to lead a widdow life; But sets his minde to marrie a second wife. So did, a handsome, but a cunning Dame As euer liu'd; Demenet was her name.

She wrought my father soone to what she list, And in his presence me full often kist. I thought and tooke it as a token kinde Of one that lou'd me with owne mothers minde: But worse it was; and, when right well I konn'd it, I hated it, and turn'd away, and shunn'd it. Herewith enrag'd she turnes her loue to hate; And one day, when my father came home late, She faines her sicke a bed, and he bewailes her (Good man) and askes her often times what ailes her. Your goodly sonne (quoth she) whom (I protest) I lou'd more than your selfe hath thus me drest. For when some tokens were to him reueal'd, That I was quicke with childe, which I conceal'd From you, till all were sure; he watcht his time Of your out-lying, and, besides the crime I blush to tell, so sore hath punched mee, As makes me lye in this poore case you see. This hearing spoke he not a word; but all Thought true she said; and when we met in hall, He fiercely cufs me twice or thrice, and then With rods me naked whips held by his men. I knew not why; although by humane lawes Should all, that are corrected, know the cause. But, when his heat was ouer; Sir (quoth I) That thus you beat me pray now tell me why. But more enrag'd, O hypocrite quoth he, That would his foule deed now haue told by me! So turn'd his face away, and in a fret Made all the haste he could to Demenet. She, not suffis'd, inuents this other slight; Makes faine her maid to loue me, Thisbe hight; Whom I before had woo'd, and could not win, Now woo's she me, and I t'aduise begin: She seekes, I flye; she flyes, I seeke her still; Will she? I will not: will she not? I will.

At length she tels how Demenet abus'd me, And was the cause why so my Father vs'd me; Yet false to him; saith, if I would, I might Her with th' Adulter take in bed this night. Prouokes me to reuenge my selfe; and I Beleeuing all, as not vnlike, apply My selfe thereto: she came at night, and said; The time is come; beleeue your faithfull Maid. Your father's forth, th'Adulter new gone in; Now, if you be a man, reuenge the sinne. With weap'n in hand I force the chamber dore, And finde my selfe deceiued by that whore; My fa••her there, with Demenet alone; I Thisbe looke-for; but the queane was gone. As thunder-strucke, then all amas'd I stand; Then fals my sword out of my quaking hand, Which she tooke-vp, that had contriu'd the plot; And said (O husband) you beleeu'd me not, When I you told that now so plaine appeares, I pray deuise to rid vs of our feares. No word he gaue, but me in prison cast; And, when I thought to tell how all had past, He would not heare me; but next day betimes Accuses me of these so hainous crimes Before the people: when I would haue spoke, With question short thus doth a Clerke me choke: Did you your fath'r assault with sword? I said, I did, but heare you how; then all so bray'd I was not heard, nor worthy thought to plead Ought for my selfe. Some iudge I should be flead; Some, cast int' Orcus-pit; and some with stones To death would haue me batter'd flesh and bones. As winter weather, be some friends of mine, That wont to freeze in shade, and thaw in shine. In all this hurly-burly still I crie O, for my step-dame, thus vnheard I die.

They heard my words, and somewhat gan suspect; Yet, so their hearing preiudice had checkt, I might not speake: their voyces when they count, T'a thousand and seu'n hundred full amount The numb'r of those who me condemne to dye, But diffring how; the rest vndiffringly, In numb'r a thousand grant me banishment, And they preuaile as most of one consent. Thus was I cast from home; and Demenet Not long enioy'd it: Heau'n aright will set That men doe wry. But long it is to tell, And you haue need of sleepe that are not well. The night is spent; betake you to your rest. So (quoth Theagenes) you more molest, To leaue her wicked plot so practised, And shew not how the wretch was punished. Then Cnemon, heare then, sith it is your minde. Soone after sentence there a ship I finde For Aegin bound, where well I might abide Among some kindred by my mothers side: I went aboord, and safely there arriu'd, Full merrily my time I spent vnwiu'd. Let cleare and rainy dayes of all the yeare Compared be, and more shall be the cleare; But he that liues a whole yeare with a shrow, More foule than faire dayes shall be sure to know. Er long, at hau'n-side walking on a day, As was my wont, I saw come-in a Cray; Which while I marke well, what it brought and whom, Er plancke lay fast, I saw leape out a groome, Who came t'embrace me kindly, Charias hight, And said, O Cnemon, now plucke vp thy sprite; Good newes I bring thee; Demenet is dead, And so, as well deseru'd her deu'lish head. Thy father gan repent it, aft'r a while, T'haue beene the cause of thine vniust exile;

And in his Countrey-village desolate Selfe-fretting spent his time: but she gan hate Herselfe and Thisbe, for her loues depart (So thee she cals) and takes it so to heart, That mad by fits she often threats her maid; Who fear'd the worst, and thus preuenting said; They say (forsooth) that Cnemon since his doome Hath left the land; but he hath found a roome To lurke in here, enquiring for your sake This haue I learn'd; Arsinoe (I take You know the Queane) she closely keepes him hid: For this I tell you let me not be chid. O happy she, quoth Demenet; but what Is this to me? O mistresse, verie pat, Repli'd the Maid; mine old acquaint is she, And one whom I haue vs'd in that degree. Ile say, I Cnemon loue, and pray, and pay, That in her roome this night she will me lay. And, if she grant, the turne shall not be mine, But yours; and Ile him bring well soakt in wine. The plot is lik'd, and hasted all they can; But with Arsinoe turn'd cat in pan: For vnto her the suttle Thisbe saith She loves one Teledemus, and her pray'th; Sweet, lodge vs both to night; he comes before; And I when Dame a bed hath shut the dore. Agreed she goes in haste to Aristippe, And saith (Sir) I deserue more than the whip. That you haue lost your sonne, not principall, But instrument I was; your wiues at call: Whom when I knew abuse your bed, I durst Not tell to you, but vnto Cnemon first, Her fault at night; he thought I said that night, And start-vp suddenly with all his might; Tooke sword in hand, and casting on his coat Vnto your chamber went: the rest you wote.

But now forgiue m', and I will you light, How to reuenge your sonne and you this night; And take your wife in breach of Nuptialls, Nor yet at home, nor yet within the walls. Doe not (quoth he) from this thy proffer swerue, But well performe't, thou shalt no longer serue; Ile set thee free: it shall prolong my life. To be reueng'd of such a wicked wife. T her suspected by some marks aloofe; But thought it best be silent, wanting proofe. You know (qu••th she) the tombe of th'Epicures; And garden where it stands; this parts is yours; Expect me there at Eu'n; so went her way To Demenet, and thus vnt'her gan say: Come, make you fine; for that I promised Is ready for you: he will straight to bed. So led her forth, and comming nigh the place, Shee wils her Mistres stay, and went a space Before, and pray'd Arsinoe withdraw T'anothter house; for Teledem but raw, And yet a Nouice vnto Cupids Queene, Would blush at first of strangers to be seene. Arsinoe departs, then Thisbe fet, And laid in bed, her Mistres Demenet; Put out the candl', and said, lest you should know her, (Who then at Aegin were) and shut the dore: Then for her Master went, and wisht him hold Th'Adulter fast. He comes in Iealous-bold, And cries, O haue I caught thee wicked wretch! Then Thisbe, as though some man thence made a breach, Cries-out, th'adulter's gone, an•• clasht the dore. No matter (wench, quoth he) sith here's the whore; And fast her holding brought her thence; but shee Bethinking what a shame it would her bee, What punishment to her offence was due, And, by the Law, without all helpe t'ensue;

And mad, that by her maid she was so mockt; While people wondring all about her flockt, (You know the deepe pit where our Leaders won▪ Doe solemne Rites) when they came neere vpon't, With (struggling much she broke his hold at last, And thereinto her selfe downe headlong cast. So broke her necke (full oft conioyned be Bad life, bad death) so my reuenge, quoth he, Preuents the Law; and forthwith to the States Her life and death, and all thy case relates; Gets hardly pardon for himselfe, the while His friends entreat to call thee from exile: But done, or not, as yet I know no whether, Faire wind and sudden businesse call'd me hether: That all the people giue consent, no doubt; And soone thy father will goe seeke thee out. This Charias told me; but what else befell, And here how came I, more time askes to tell. Then he, and they for company, gan weepe; And eas'd with teares together fell asleepe. But Thyamis (th'arch Outlawes name was so) Had rested well, till houshold Cocke gan crow, As all by kinde (some say because they feele The Sunne returning with his mid-night wheele, And would salute him; some, for natures heat So quicke-digesting, and desire of meat, They call to worke the men with whom they dwell) Then dreampt, and had a vision, thus befell; He seem'd at Memphis entring Isis Fane, That all th'rowout with fire-brands it shane, That th'Altars were with sacrifice besprent, That in the porch and all about the••e went Men all in tumult raising hideous cries, As hauing tooke the Temple by surprise; That, comming neere the shrine, the Goddesse met him With his faire prise in hand, and thus she gret him;

This Maid (O Thyam) I command thee saue her From hurt; but know, thou hauing shalt not haue her. Thou shalt a guest kill, though against my Law, But she shall liue: this when he heard and saw, His minde was troubled how to conster it; And thus he made all for his purpose fit. Haue and not haue, a wife, no more a maid: But how then kill? O Hymen stab he said: For many a virgin her virginitie May wounded haue, and of the wound not die. When Sun began t'enamell th'Easterne sand, He calls him-to the chiefe of his command, And bids the Spoyle (so by more noble name He tearm'd the Prey, to keepe vntainted Fame) Be laid before him; Cnemon eke he wils Bring forth the prisners: O (quoth they) what ills Yet more betide vs? and him weeping pray'd, And he them promis'd, if he could, some aid; And cheer'd them vp, and told them how their Chiefe Ne bore the minde of rude and sauage thiefe; But noble and gentle was to iust complaint, And would not liue thus but vpon constraint. When all were come, and Thyam set on high To speake them-to, as wont he commonly, He Cnemon bids, vnto that Youth and Maid, Report, in Greeke, this he in Gypsie said. My Fellow souldiours, being, as you wist, The first-borne sonne of Memphis highest Priest, And from my right kept by my younger brother, I fled to you; and me before all other You chose for Chiefe: and't hath beene since my care, Of all we got, to take no more than share. The captiue men of strength I gaue to you, The weaker sold; and this y'all know is true, The free-borne women ransom'd, or set free For pittie sake, the seruile sort had yee:

This one whose habit shewes, and goodly port, Her some Deuore, and therefore meet Consort For Bishops sonne, though of my selfe I might Her choose, and take by only Captaines right (As well you know) yet her of you I craue, To be my wife; you all the rest shall haue. They all consent, he thanks, and further saith; Then speake you Faire-one, doe me plight your faith; To liue with me in lawfull marriage; And tell your Countrey, and your parentage. She cast her modest eyes vpon the ground, And staid a while, as 'twere in thought profound What should she say; then him with blushing ey'd, And thus, as Cnemon did relate, repli'd. My brother better speake here may, than I, A Maid before so manly company; But sith you giue me leaue, and chiefly me Concernes the meeting, know (I pray) that he Apollo's Priest is, and Diana's I, Of noble parentage in Ionie. Our Office ending ('twas but for a yeere, And not hereditarie like yours here) With solemne pompe (as holy custome prest) For Delos sail'd we, there vs to diuest. When ran at sea was halfe our course and more, Began a storme, that cast vs here a shore: And, at a feast made for our late escape, The Mariners our goods thought all to rape. On either side there slaine were all but wee, In wofull case left, as you chanc'd to see: Yet happy in this, we your hands-into fell, Who grant both life and loue; which I like well; This one thing crauing, to remaine a Maid Till solemne diuesture, meane time with aid You Memphis may recouer; where is best (If you so please) both marry, and diuest.

They all approue; and staid is his desire By her Sirenish song (though more afire) And by his dreame; wherein he thought was noted He should at Memphis marry this Deuoted: So breakes the moot, and they with hand and heart Him promise aid; and leaue the richest part Of spoile for him; and he them bids prepare The tenth day after to the war to fare. And, for his guests, that nothing might offend them, Full well prouides; and Cnemon wils attend them, Not now as Keeper, but Interpreter; Himselfe forbearing once to looke on her, For feare of being tempted. Cnemon, when They brought were in, went forth beyond the Fen Among the bushes, where he knew was best To seeke that herbe he promised his guest. Mean-while Theagenes, to her no words, But vnto Heau'n complaines; and she him boords, Is this for old, or for some late euent? Forgetting me (quoth he) sh'is now content To marry another. God forbid, quoth shee; My promise euer will I keepe with thee. O doe not then so much encrease my griefe! Before Theagenes I choose a theefe? I spoke but to delay the danger nigh, You sooner will (I feare) be false, than I. Indeed (quoth he) I lik'd well that inuent Of broth'r and sist'r, and how from home we went: But O, when you, when you so plainly granted, Appointing place and time, how was I danted! She then embrac'd and kist him, shedding teares, And said, O how delight me these your feares! They proue you costant notwithstanding all The miseries that daily on vs fall. But sure, we had not thus conferr'd to day, If i had much oppos'd, and not giu'n way.

A Louer rude will ne're be calme without Some hope, and that may still him, ne're so stour. So thought and did I, thus farre for the best; Our loues protector Phoebus worke the rest! And wisely must we handle this our plot, That Cnemon, though our friend, perceiue it not: Or, if he chance by circumstance suspect, We must deny't, and let him but coniect. Th'vntruth that speaker helpes, and nought at all The hearer hurts, may well be borne withall. Thus had she said, and Cnemon from the field Came running in, and lookt as almost wilde; And said; Theagenes, loe here is found That herbe, which once laid-on will heale your wound. I cannot stay, but come yee both with mee; And, what the cause is, you shall quickly see. But haste we must; that wasting time in words We be not ouertaken here with swords: So led them fast away to Thyamis; And found him fellow-like, with many of his, His armour scowring; Sir, then said, 'tis well Y'are so prouiding; for ill newes I tell. There comes vpon you troopes of armed men; I thinke they are by this time neere the Fen; Or not farre off; from yonder hill I spide them, And, as I came, haue wisht your men prouide them. The Captaine then began himselfe aduance, And armed Capapee, with sword and lance, Before he stept a foot forth on his way, Tooke present order for Chariclia. A Caue there was, hand-wrought by Gypsie-wit, To hide their spoyle; it opened well and shut With narrow doore of stone, that threshold was T'an vpper roome; within, a Maze it has Of sundrie wayes entangled (like the roots Of thicke-set trees, amids and all abouts)

That meet in plaine; with scales of Crocodile The roofe is pau'd, brought thither from the Nile, On pillars short vpheld; to helpe the sight, From top thereof descends a beame of light: He Cnemon wills her take (but in his eare, That what he said none other man might heare) And lead, and safely place her in this Caue, Where all his treasure lay, and bids him haue A speciall care the mouth thereof to close, As wont it be. With heauie heart she goes, Still looking backe at her Theagenes With Thyam left; and Cnemon, her to please, Vpon the Caue before he laid the doore, Her promised, to bring him safe vnto her; And not to suff'r a yet-raw-wounded Knight, To vent'r his life in such vntimely fight. She answer'd not a word; but of her loue, (As soule) bereft, did little breathe or moue: Nor without teares departed he, to thinke How faire a creature there he left at brinke As 'twere of death; nay buried had aliue That shining beautie might the world reuiue. To Thyam then he ran; with whom he found Theagen armed royally; and round About them flocke the rest; first low, then tall, For better sight and hearing. Fellowes all, Then said the Chiefe, your life is all a warre; Your trust and courage tri'd; the foe not farre: T'encourage you nor need I, nor haue leasure: Is 't for our goodly citties, for our treasure; Is 't for our children, for our wealth or wiues, They set vpon vs? no 'tis for our liues. For such as liue by spoile, as they and we, We fight not who shall reigne; but who shall be. Then neuer yeeld we to this enemy; But fight it out, and conquer him or dye. Then call'd he for Thermuti••, could not get him;

Which made him angrie, and for his absence threat him. So ran to Ferrie; for he saw the fight Was now began, and his some put to flight, And others slaine. Th'inuaders as they got The mastrie of any, straight-way burnt his boat: This cast a flame on all the cane and reed Th'row-out the Fen; that Vulcan, set on speed, Their eares with crackling, eyes with flashing smote; And smoakie cinders all about them flote. Then death with vgly face vpon them gapes, Deuouring diuers men in diuers shapes. By fire, by water, by the sword, by smoke, They burne, they drowne, they shed life-bloud, they choke. So wofull case was neuer seene, they say; But at the siege of Troy, and Solyma. Where bastard Common-wealth of Robbers stood, Is nothing now but cinder, smoke, and mud. For worke by Heau'n accurst, bee't ne're so great, Shall fall as waue that seemes the skie to threat; And downe his some regardlesse quickly sinkes Amid the basest water 'twixt the brinks. This Thyam seeing, thought vpon his dreame, And of the meaning makes another theame; Haue, and not haue; she should be from him tane By force of Armes; and yet by him be slaine With sword indeed, not as he thought before. Against his Isis then he gan to rore, As him deceiuing; thought it high disgrace, That other should his deerest Loue embrace. Thus on the Maid, the foe, the boat the weather, His nimble thoughts disparteth heth'r and theth'r. Now this, now that, right fast imagining; Yet for that one neglects each other thing. Then his exhorts againe to fight, not yeeld; But, as they had done, still maintaine the field; Till he Thermutis sought (that was pretent) But all in haste vnto the Caue he went.

A barbarous man th'affection cannot tame That once he set, nor from designe reclaime; Selfe out of hope will take quite out of way That most he loues, from being others prey: And Thyam therefore all in-hand forgets; Though compast round about with fearefull nets, Enrag'd with anger, loue, and iealousie, To Caue he went and rusht in suddenly; Then cry'd aloud in Gypsie till he met One answer'd Greeke: then left hand on her set, And thrust her th'row with right; that there she lay, And with her bloud her life flew quite away. These are, quoth he, thy spousalls at my hand, O worthy best! now none shall thee command. So said, and comming forth he sigh'd and wept, And shut the doore, and earth vpon it heapt. When to the boats he came, this was the plight; His, some, prepare to run away at sight Of first-come enemie: Thermutis would Doe sacrifice; whom Thyamis contrould; And said, himselfe had offred with his blade The fairest sacrifice that could be made: He meant that in the Caue: so went aboord Thermutis, he, and, them to row, a third. The boat, as all the rest, was but a trunke Of hollow tree; if more had come, had sunke: In like went Cnemon and Theagenes; And two by two, thus on fresh water seas, A mightie number: but they made away At first encounter. This made Cnemon say Vnto his friend, What? shall we stay to fight, When all the rest haue tooke them to their flight, Saue Thyamis himselfe? so they withdrew. But Thyamis when th'aduersaries knew, They cry'd let all men set on him alone; O had we him, though all the rest were gone! Would any know the reason? these were they

That at the Canop-Outlet fled away, And left so rich a spoyle for Thyamis; And therefore hate they deadly him and his. That him their minde was here to take aliue (Though many slaine are thereto while they striue) The cause was this: his brother Petosire, Of heartenflamed with ambitious fire, With-held the Priesthood from him, most vnkinde, Against his birth-right, and his fathers minde. Then of the Robbers was he chosen Chiefe, And he that should haue beene Arch-Priest, Arch-theefe. This put the younger brother much in feare, Lest aft'r a while he should some tumult reare, To get his right: beside, thought tract of time Would manifest at length his further crime. This likely mischiefe thinking to preuent, Vnt'all th'Aegyptian Outlawes word he sent, With summes of money, and promises of other (Pretending, for 'twas thought he slew his brother) For any man that should him bring aliue. With much adoe at last they him depriue Of (strong Thermutis helpe; who brauely fought; Yet ouer-boord was throwen, and drowned thought: But seeing Masters case so desperate, With other matt'r in minde, away he gate, And swimming came to land: for th' enemy His taking Thyam counted victory; Yea reck'ned him of all the warre compend, None other minding; him away they send With halfe their force to guard; and all the rest His Islet ransackt: long they were in quest Of that was left, and when they little found (For all the treasure hid was vnderground) The night approaching, staid they not; for feare Of such as sled, and might surprise them there; But, setting first the cottages afire, Vnto their fellowes well in time retire.

Finis Libri primi.