Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent

The amorous Epistle of Paris to Hellen.

HEalth unto Laedaes daughter Priams sonne, Sends in these lines, whose health cannot be won, But by your gift, in whose power it may lie, To make me whole or sicke; to live or die: Shall I then speake? or doth my flame appeare, Plaine without Index? Oh, tis that I feare: My Love without discovering smile takes place, And more than I could wish shines in my face. When I could rather in my thoughts desire, To hide the smoake, till time display the fire: Time that can make the fire of Love shine cleare, Vntroubled with the misty smoake of feare: But I dissemble it, for who I pray, Can fire conceale, that will it selfe betray? Yet if you looke, I should affirme that plaine In words, which in my countenance I maintaine: I burne, I burne, my faults I have confess'd, My words beare witnesse how my lookes transgress'd: Oh pardon me that have confess'd my error, Cast not upon my lines a looke of terror, But as your beauty is beyond compare, Suite unto that your lookes, (oh you most faire,) That you my letter have received by this The supposition glads me, and I wish, By hope incourag'd, hope that makes me strong, You will receive me in some sort ere long.

I aske no more than what the Queene of beauty Hath promis'd me, for you are mine by dutie. By her I claime you, you for me were made, And she it was my journey did perswade: Nor Lady thinke your beauty vainely sought, I by divine instinct was hether brought, And to this enterprize the heavenly powers, Have given consent, the gods proclaime me your••; I aime at wonders, for I covet you, Yet pardon me, I aske but whats my due: Venus her selfe my journey hither led, And gives you freely to my promis'd bed. Vnder her safe conduct the seas I past, Till I arriv'd upon these coasts at last: Shipping my selfe from▪ the Sygean shore, Whence unto these Confines my course I bore: She made the Surges gentle, the windes faire, Nor marvell whence these calmes proceeded are. Needs must she power upon the salt-Seales have, That was sea-borne, created from a wave. Stil may she stand in her ability, And as she made the seas with much facility, To be through sail'd, so may she calme my heate, And beare my thoughts to their desired seat: My flames I found not Here, no, I protest▪ I brought them with me closed in my breast▪ My selfe transported them without Attorney, Love was the Motive to my tedious journey. Not blustring Winter when he triumphe'd most, Nor any error drove me to this Coast▪ Not led by fortune where the rough winds please, Nor Marchant▪like forgaine crost I the Seas:

Fulnesse of wealth in all my Fleete I see, I am rich in all things, save in wanting thee▪ No spoile of petty Nations my Ship seekes, Nor Land I as a Spie among the Greekes, What neede we? See of all things we have store. Compar'd with Troy (alas your Greece is poore. For thee I come, thy fame hath thus farre driven me, Whom golden Venus hath by promise given me; I wish'd thee ere I knew thee, long agoe, Before these eyes dwelt on this glorious show: I saw thee in my thoughts, know beautious Dame, I first beheld you with the eyes of fame, Nor marvell Lady I was stroke so farre, Thus Darts or Arrowes sent from Bowes of war••e Wound a great distance off; so was I hit With a deepe smarting wound that ranckles yet, For so it pleas'd the Fates, whom least you blame, Ile tell a true Tale to confirme the same: When in my Mothers wombe full ripe I lay, Ready the first houre to behold the day, And she at point to be delivered straight, And to unlade her of her Royall freight, My Birth-houre was delaid, and that sad night A fearefull vision did the Queene affright▪ In a sonnes stead to please the aged Sire, She dreampt she had brought forth a Brand of fire, Frighted she rises, and to Priam goes▪ To the old King this ominous dreame she showes: He to the Priest, the Priest doth this returne, That the child borne shall stately Islium burne: Better then he was ware the Prophet guest, For loe a kindled Brand-flames in the my breast,

To prevent Fate a Peasant, I was held, Till my faire shape all other Swaines▪ excel'd, And gave the doubtfull world assurance good, Your Paris was deriv'd from royall blood. Amid the Idean Fields there is a place, Remote, full of high trees, which hide the face, Of the greene mantled Earth, wherein thicke rowes, The Oake, the El••e, the Pine, the Pitch-tree growes: Here never yet did browze the wanton Ewe, Nor from this plot the slow Oxe licke the dew; The savage Goate that feeds among the Rockes, Hath not graz'd here, nor any of their Flockes. Hence the Dardanian walls I might espie, The lofty Towers of Islium reared hie; Hence I the seas might from the firme land see, Which to behold, I leant me to a Tree: Beleeve me, for I speake but what is true, Downe from the skirt with feathered pynions flew, The Nephew to great Atlas, and doth stand, With golden Caducens in his hand: This as the gods to me thought good to show, I hold it good that you the same should know. Three Goddesses behind young Hermes moye, Great Iuno, Pallas, and the Queene of Love; Who as in pompe and pride of gate they passe, Scarse with their weight they bend the toppes of grasse: Amaz'd I start, and endlong stands my haire, When Mayus Sonne thus sayes, abandon feare; Thou courteous Swaine, that to these groves repairest, And freely judge which of thse three is fairest: And least I should these curious sentence shun, He tels me by loves sentence all is done.

And to be Iudge I no way can eschue, This having said, up through the Ayre he flew: I straight tooke Heart a-grace, and grew more bold, And there their beauties one by one behold. Why am I made the Iudge to give this doome? Methinkes all three are worthy to o're-come: To injure two such Beauties, what tongue dare? Or preferre one where they be all so faire. Now this seemes fairest, now againe that other, Now would I speake, and now my thoughts I smother. And yet at leangth the praise of one most sounded, And from that one my present Love is grounded: The Goddesses out of their earnest care, And pride of beautie to beheld most faire, Seeke with large Armes, and gifts of wondrous price, To their owne thoughts my censure to en••ice: Iuno the wife of Iove doth first inchant me, To judge her fairest, she a Crowne will grant me. Pallas her Daughter, next doth undertake me, Give her the prize, and valiant she will make me. I straight devise which can most pleasure bring, To be a valiant Souldier, or a King: Last Venus smiling came with such a grace, As if she swayed an Empire in her face. Let not (said she) these gifts the conquest beare, Combats and Kingdomes are both fraught with feare. Ile give thee what thou lovest best, (lovely Swaine,) The fairest Saint that doth on earth remaine Shall be thine owne, make thou the Conquest mine; Faire Laedaes fairest Daughter shall be thine. This said, when with my selfe I had devised, And her rich gift and beauty jointly prised:

Venus victor, o're the rest is plac'd, Iuno and Pallas leave the Mount disgrac'd, Meane time my Fates a prosperous course had run, And by knowne signes King Priam cal'd me sonne: The day of my restoring is kept holy Among the Saints-dayes, consecrated solely, To my remembrance, being a day of joy, For ever in the Kalenders of Troy. As I wish you I have beene wish'd by others, The fairest maids by me would have beene Mothers, Of all my favours I bestow'd not any, You onely may enjoy the Loves of many: Nor by the Daughters of great Dukes and Kings Have •• alone beene sought, whose marriage Rings, I have turn'd backe, but by a straine more hie, By Nymphs and P••airies, such as never die. No sooner were you promis'd as my due, But I (all hated) to remember you: Waking, I saw your Image, if I dreampt, Your beautious figure still appear'd to tempt, And urge this voyage, Till your face excelling, These eyes beheld, my dreames were all of Hellen. Imagine how your face should now incite me, Being seene, that unseene did so much delight me▪ If I was scorch'd so farre off from the fire, How am I burnt to Cinders thus much nigher: Nor could I longer owe my selfe this treasure, But through the Ocean I must search my pleasure, The Phrygyan Hatches to the rootes are put Of the Idean Pines, (a sunder cut) ▪The Wood-land Mountaine yeelded me large fees, Beeing despoyl'd of all her talest Trees,

From whence we have squar'd out vnnumbred beames, That must be wash'd within the Marine streames: The grounded Oakes are bowed, though stiffe as steele, And to the tough Ribs is the bending Keele Woven by Ship-wrights craft, then the Maine-mast, A crosse whole middle is the Saile-yard plac'd. Tackles and sailes, and next you may discerne, Our painted Gods upon the hooked sterne: The God that bear••s me on my happy way, And is my guide, is Cupid: Now the day In which the last stroke of the Hammer's heard Within our Navy, in the East appear'd, And I must now launch forth; (so the Fates please) To seeke adventures in the Eagean Seas. My father and my mother move delay, And by intreaties would inforce my stay: They hang about my necke, and with their teares, Wooe me deferre my journey: but their feares Can have no power to keepe me from thy sight: And now Cassandra full of sad affright, Will loose dishevel'd Tramels, madly skips, Iust in the way betwixt me and my Ships. Oh, whether wilt thou head▪ long run, she cries? Thou bearest fire with thee, whose smoake up-flies Vnto the heavens (Oh Iove) thou little fearest, What quenchlesse flames thou through the water bearest; Cassandra was too true a Prophetesse, Her quenchlesse flames she spake of (I confesse,) My hot desires burne in my breast so fast, That no red Furnace hotter flames can cast. I passe the Citty gates, my Barke I boo••'d, The favourable windes calme gales afford▪

And fill my sailes, unto your Land I steare▪ For whether else (his course) should Paris beare: Your husband entertaines me as his guest, And all this hapneth by the gods behest: He shewes me all his Pastures, Parkes, and Fields, And every rare thing Lacedemon yeeldes, He holds himselfe much pleased with my being, And nothing hides, that he esteemes worth seeing. I am on fire, till I behold your face, Of all Achayas Kingdome, the sole-grace. All other curious Objects I defie, Nothing but Hellen can content mine eye, Whom when I saw, I stood transform'd with wonder, Sencelesse, as one stroke dead by Ioves sharpe Thunder: As I revive, my eyes I rowle and turne, Whilst my flam'd thoughts with hotter fancies burne: Even so (as I remember,) look'd Loves Queene, When she was last in Phrygian Ida seene, Vnto which place by Fortune I was trained, Whereby my censure she the Conquest gained: But had you made a fourth in that contention, Of Venus beauty, there had beene no mention: Hellen assuredly had borne from all, The prize of beauty, the bright golden Ball. Onely of you may this your Kingdome boast, By you it is renown'd in every Coast: Rumor hath every where your beautie blazed, In what remote Clyme is not Hellen praised? From the bright Easterne Sun up-rise, inquire, Even to his downefall where he ••lakes his fire, There lives not any of your Sex that dare, Contend with you that are proclaim'd so faire,

Trust me, for truth I speake: Nay whats most truē, Too sparingly the world hath spoke of you: Fame that hath undertooke your name to blaze, Plaid but the envious Housewife in your praise; More then report could promise, or fame blazon, Are these Divine perfections that I gaze on. These were the same that made Duke Theseus lavish, Who in thy prime and Nonage did thee ravish; A worthy Rape for such a worthy Man, Thrice happy Ravisher, to seize thee than, When thou wert stript starke naked to the skin, (A sight of force to make the gods to sin:) Such is your Countries Guise at seasons when, With naked Ladies they mixt naked Men. That he did steale thee from thy Friends, I praise him, And for that deede, I to the Heavens will raise him: That he return'd thee backe, by Iove I wonder, Had I beene Theseus, he that should assunder, Have parted us, or snatch'd thee from my bed, First from my shoulders should have par'd my head. So rich a purchase, such a glorious pray: Should constantly have beene detain'd for aye. Could these my strong Armes possibly unclaspe, Whilst in their amorous Foulds they Hellen graspe, Neither by free constraint nor by free giving, Could you depart that compasse, and I living: But if by rough inforce I must restore you, Some fruits of love, (which I so long have bore you,) I first would reape, and some sweete favour gaine, That all my suite were not bestow'd in vaine: Either with me you shall abide and ••••ay, Or for your passe your maiden▪ head should pay.

Or say, I sp••r'd you that, yet would I trie VVhat other favour, I could else come b••, All that belongs to love, I would not misse, You should not let me both to clip and ••isse. Give me your heart faire Queene, my heart you owe▪ And what my resolution is you know: Till the last fire my breathlesse body take, The fire within my breast can never slake. Before large kingdomes I preferr'd your face, And ••unoes▪ love, and potent gifts disgrace, To fold you in my amorous Armes I chus'd, And Pallas vertues scornefull, refus'd. VVhen they with Uenus in the hill of Ide, Made me the judge their beau••ies to decide; Nor doe I yet repent me, having tooke, Beauty, and strength, and Scepter'd rule forsooke. Methinkes I chus'd the best, (nor think it strange) I still persist, and never meane to change; Onely that my imploiment be not vaine, Oh you more worth than any Empires gaine. Let me intreate, least you my birth should scorne, Or parentage: know I am Royall borne. By marrying me, you shall not wrong you State, Nor be a wife to one degenerate. Search the Records where we did first begin, And you shall finde the Pleyads of our Kin: Nay Iove himselfe all others to for beare, That in our stocke renowned Princes were: My father of all Asia raines sole King, VVhose boundlesse Coast scarce any feathered wing, Can give a girdle to, a happier Land, A neighbour to the Ocean cannot stand:

There in a narrow compasse you may see, Citties and Towers, more than may numbred be, The houses guilt, rich Temples that excell, And you will say I neere the great Gods dwell. You shall behold high Isliums lofty Towers, And Troyes brave walls built by immortall powers, But made by Phoebus the great god of fire, And by the touch of his melodious Lyer, If we have people to inhabite, when The sad earth groanes to beare such troopes of men Iudge Hellen, Likewise when you come to Land, The Asian women shall admiring stand, Saluting thee with welcome, more and lesse, In preasing throngs and numbers, numberlesse: More than our Courts can hold of you (most faire) You to your selfe will say, alasse, how baire, And poore Achaya is, when with great pleasure, You see each house containe a Cities Treasure. Mistake me not, I Sparta doe not scorne, I hold the Land blest where my love was borne, Though barren else, rich Sparta Hellen bore, And therefore I that Province must adore; Yet is your Land methinks but leane and emty, You worthy of a Clyme that flowes with plenty, Full Troy I prostrate, it is yours by duty, This petty seat becomes not your rich beauty; Attendance, Preperation, Curtsie, State, Fit such a heavenly forme, on which should waite, Cost, Fresh variety, Delicious diet, Pleasure, Contentment, and Luxurious ryot, VVhat Ornaments we use, what fashions faigne, You may perceive by me and my proud traine,

Thus we attire our men, but with more cost, Of gold and Pearle, the rich Gownes are Imbos••, Of our chiefe Ladies, guesse by what you see, You may he soone induc'd to credit me. Be tractable faire Spartan, nor contemne A Trojan borne, deriv'd from Royall ••••emme: He was a Trojan and allide to Hector, That waites upon Ioves cup, and fills him Nect••r: A Trojan did the faire Aurora wed, And nightly slept within her Roseat bed: The Goddesses that ends nigh and enters day, From our faire Trojan Coast stole him away, Anchises was a Trojan, whom Loves Queene, (Making the Trees of Ida a thicke Screene Twixt Heaven and her) oft lay with, view me well I am a Troyan too, in Troy I dwell. Thy Husband Menelaus hither bring, Compare our shapes, our yeares and every thing, I make you Iudge••••e, wrong me if you can, You needs must say I am the properer man: None of my line hath turn'd the Sun to blood, And rob'd his Steeds of their Ambro••iall food: My Father grew not from the Caucasse Rocke, Nor shall I graft you in a blood•• Stocke: Priam neere wrong'd the guiltlesse soule, or further, Made the Myrt••an Sea looke red with murther▪ Nor thirsteth my great Grand▪sire in the Lake, Of Lethe, Chin deepe, yet no thirst can slake: Nor after ripened Apples vainely skips, Who flie him still, and yet still touch his lips: But what of this? If you be so deriv'd, You not withstanding are no right depriv'd.

You grace your Stocke, and being so divine, Iove is of force compell'd into your Line. Oh mischiefe! whilst I vainely speake of this, Your Husband all-unworthy of such blisse, Injoyes you this long night, enfolds your waste, And where he lists may boldly touch and taste. So when you sat at Table, many a ••oy, Passeth betweene you my vext soule t'annoy, At such high feasts I wish my enemie sit, Where discontent attends on every bit, I never yet was plac'd at any Feast, But oft it irke me that I was your Guest: That which offends me most thy rude Lord knowes, For still his armes about thy necke he throwes, Which I no sooner spie but I grow mad, And hate the man, whose courting makes me sad Shall I be plaine? I am ready to sinke downe, When I behold him wrape you in his Gowne, When you sit smiling on his amorous knee, His fingers presse, where my hands itch to be. But when he hugs you I am forc'd to frowne, The meate I'am eating will by no means downe, But stickes halfe way, amidst these discontents, I have observ'd you laugh at my lament••, And with a scornefull, yet a wanton smile, Deride▪ my sighes and grones, oft to beguile My passions, and to quench my fiery rage, By quaffing healths I'have thought my flame ••'asswage▪ But Bacchus full cups make my flames burne heigher, Adde wine to love, and you add fire to fire. To shun the sight of many a wanton feate, Betwixt your Lord and you, I shift my seate,

And turne my head, but thinking of your grace, Love skrewes my head to gaze backe on your face▪ What were I best to doe? To see you play Mads me, and I perforce must turne away, And to forbeare the place where you abide, Would kill me dead, should I but start aside: As much as lies in me I strive to bury, The shape of Love, in mirths spight I seeme merry. But oh, the more I seeke it to suppresse, The more my blabbing lookes my love professe. You know my Love which I in vaine should hide, Would God it did appeare to none beside, Oh Iove how often have I turned my cheecke, To hide th'apparant teares that passage seeke, From forth my eyes, and to a corner stept, Least any man should aske wherefore I wept: How often have I told you pitious tales, Of constant Lovers, and how Love prevailes. When such great heed to my discourse I tooke, That every accent suited to your looke; Inforged names my selfe I represented, The Lover so perplex'd, and so tormented, If you will know? Behold I am the same, Paris was meant in that true Lovers name: As often, that I might the more se••urely, Speake loose immodest words, that sound impurely, That they offencelesse might your sweet eares tutch, I have lispt them up, like one had drunke too much▪ Once I remember, your loose vaile betrai'd, Your naked skinne, and a faire passage made, To my ••namored eye, Oh skin much brighter Than snow or purest milke, in colour whiter

Than your faire mother Laeda, when Iove grac'd her▪ And in the shape of Feathered Swan imbrac'd her. Whilst as this ravishing sight I stood amazed, And without interruption freely gazed, The wreathed handle of the Bowle I grasp'd, Fell from my hold, my strengthlesse hand unclasp'd. A Goblet at that time I held by chance, And downe it fell, for I was in a trance. Kisse your faire Daughter, and to her I skip, And snatch your kisses from your sweet childs lippe. Sometimes I throw my selfe along, and lie▪ Singing Love-songs, and if you cast your eye, On my effeminate gesture, I still finde, Some pretty covered signes to speake my minde; And then my earnest suit blu••tly invades, Aethra and Climenea your two chiefe maides, But they returne me answers full of feare, And to my motions lend no further eare. Oh that you were the prize of some great strife, And he that wins, might claime you for his wife▪ Hyppomenes with swift Atlanta ran, And at one course the Goale and Lady wan, Even she, by whom so many Suters perish'd, Was in the bosome of her new Love cheerish'd. So Hercules for Deja••eira strove, Brak•• A••helous horne, and gain'd his love. Had I such liberty, such freedome granted, My resolution never could be danted; Your selfe should find, and all the world should see▪ Hellen (a prize alone) reserv'd for me, There is not left me any meanes (most faire) To Court you now, but by intreate•• and prayer▪

Vnlesse (as it becomes me you thinke meete, That I should prostrate fall, and kisse your feete. Oh all the honour that our last age wins, Then glory of the two Tindarian Twins, Worthy to be Ioves wife, in heaven to raigne, Were you not Ioves owne Daughter, of his straine. To the Sygean confines I will carry thee, And in the Temple of great Pallas marry thee: Or in this Island where I vent my moanes, Ile begge a Tombe for my exiled bones: My wound is not a slight race with an arrow, But it hath pierc'd my heart, and burnt my marrow. This Prophesie my Sister oft hath sounded, That by an heavenly Dart I should be wounded: Oh then forbeare (faire Hellen) to oppose you, Against the gods, they say I shall not lose you. Yeeld you to their beheast, and you shall finde, The gods to your pititions likewise kinde. A thousand things at once are in me braine, Which that I may essentially complaine, And not in papers empty all my head, Anon at night receive me to your bed. Blush you at this! or Lady doe you feare, To violate the Nuptiall lawes austeare? Oh (simple Hellen) Foolish I might say, What profite reape you to be Chaste I pray? Ist possible, that you a world to winne, Should keepe that face, that beauty without sinne? Rather you most your glorious face exchange, For one (lesse Faire) or else not seeme so strange: Beauty and Chastity at variance are, Tis hard to finde one woman chaste and faire.

Venus will not have beauty over aw'de, High Iove himselfe stolne pleasures will applaude, And by such theevish pastimes we may gather, How Iove'gainst wedlo••kes lawes, became your father: He and your mother Laeda both transgrest, When you were got she bare a tender breast. What glory can you gaine Love sweetes to smother? Or to be counted chaster than your mother? Professe stricke chastity, when with great joy, I lead you as my Bride-espous'd through Troy: Then I inteate you raine your pleasures in, I wish thy Paris may be all thy sinne. If citherea her firme Covenant keepe, Though I with in your bosome nightly sleepe, We shall not much misdoe, but so offend, That we by marriage may our guilt amend. Your husband hath himselfe this businesse aided, And though (not with his tongue) he hath perswaded, By all his deeds (as much) least he should stay, Our private meetings, he is farre away, Of purpose rid unto the farthest West, That he might leave his wife unto his guest. No fitter time he could have found to visite, The Chrisean royall Scepter, and to ceize it: Oh simple, simple Husband? but he's gone, And going, left you this to thinke upon. Faire wife (quoth he) I prethee in my place, Regard the Trojan Prince, and doe him grace: Behold, a witnesse I againsts you stand, You have beene carelesse of this kinde command. Count from his first dayes journey, never since, Did you regard or grace the Trojan Prince;

What thinke you of your Husband? that he knowe▪ The worth and value of the face he owes? Who (but a Foole) such beauty would indanger, Or trust it to the mercy of a Stranger. Then (royall Queene) if neither may intreate, My quenchlesse passion, nor Loves raging heate, Can winne you, we are wooed both to this crime, Even by the fit advantage of the time, Either to love sweet sport we must agree, Or shew our selves to be worse fooles than he: He tooke you by the hand the houre he rode, And knowing, I with you must make abode, Brings you to me, what should I further say, It was his minde to give you quite away. What meant he else? Then lets be blithe and jolly, And make the best use of your Husbands folly. What should we doe? Your husband is farre gone, And this cold night (poore soule) you lie alone. I want a bedfellow, so doe we either, What lets us then, but that we lie together: You slumbring thinke on me, on you I dreame, Both our desires are fervent, and extreame. Sweet, then appoint the night, why doe you stay? Oh night, more clearer than the brightest day: Then I dare freely speake, protest, and sweare, And of my vowes the gods shall record beare. Then will I seale the contract, and the strife, From that day forward, we are man and wife: Then questionlesse I shall so farre perswade, That you with me shall Troyes rich Coast invade, And with your Phrygian guest at last agree, Our potent Kingdome and rich Crowne to see.

But if you (blushing) feare the vulger bruite, That sayes, you follow me, to me make suite, Feare it not Hellen; Ile so worke with Fame, I will (alone) be guilty of all blame. Duke Theseus was my instance, and so were Your brothers Lady, Can I come more neere To ensample my attempts by? Theseus haled Hellen perforce: your brothers they prevailed; With the Leucippian Sisters, now from these, Ile count my selfe the fourth (if Hellen please.) Our Trojan Navy rides upon the Coast, Rig'd, arm'd, and man'd, and I can proudly boast, The bankes are high, why doe you longer stay? The windes and Oares are ready to make way. You shall be like a high Majesticke Queene, Led through the Dardan Citty, and be seene, By millions, who your State having commended, Will (wondring) sweare, some Goddesse is discended. Where ere you walke the Priests shall incence burne, No way you shall your eye or body turne But sacrificed beasts the ground shall beate, And bright religious fires the Welken heate, My father, mother, brother, sisters: all Islium and Troy in pompe majesticall, Shall with rich gifts present you (but alasse) Not the least part (so farre they doe surpasse) Can my Epistle speake, you may behold More than my words or writings can unfold. Nor feare the bruite of warre, or threatning Steele, When we are fled: to dogge us at the heele: Or that all Graecia will their powers unite, Of many ravish'd, can you one recite,

Whom warre repurchas'd? these be idle feares, Rough blustering, Boreas faire Orithea beares, Vnto the land of Thrace, yet Thrace still free, And Athens rais'd no rude Hostility. In winged Pegasus did Iason saile, And from great Colchos he Medea stale: Yet Thessaly you see can shew no scarre, Of former wounds in the Thessalian warre: He that first ravish'd you: In such a Fleete, As ours is, Ariadne brought from Creete: Yet Mynos and Duke Theseus were agreed, About that quarrell, not abreast did bleede. Lesse is the danger (trust me) then the feare, That in these vaine and idle doubts appeare. But say rude warre should be proclaim'd at length, Know, I am valiant, and have sinowie strength. The weapons that I use are apt to kill, Asia besides, more spacious fields can fill, With armed men then Greece, amongst us are More perfect Souldiers, more beasts apt for war: Nor can thy husband Menelaus be Of any high spirit and Magnanimity, Or so well prov'd in Armes: for Hellen I, Being but a Lad have made my enemies flie. Regain'd the prey from out the hands of Theeves, Who had desploid our Heards, and stolne our Beeves. By such adventures I my name obtained, (Being but a Lad) the conquest I have gained, Of young men in their prime, who much could doe, Deiphebus, Ilione as to. I have o'recome in many sharpe contentions, Nor thinke these are my vaine and forg'd inventions:

Or that I onely hand to hand can fight, My arrowes when I please shall touch the white. I am expert in the Quarrey and the Bow, You cannot boast your he artlesse husband so. Had you the power in all things to supply me, And should you nothing in the world deny me, To give me such a Hector to my brother, You could not: the earth beares not such another: By him alone all Asia is well man'd, He like an enemy against Greece shall stand; Oppos'd to your best fortunes, wherefore strive you, You doe not know his valour that must wive you. Or what hid worth is in me but at length▪ You will confesse when you have prov'd my strength. Thus either warre shall still our steps pursue, Or Greece shall fall in Troyes all-conquering view: Nor would I feare for such a royall wife, To set the Vniversall world at strife: To gaine rich Prizes men will venture farre, The hope of purchase makes us bold in warre. If all the world about you should contend, Your name would be eterniz'd without end, Onely be bold, and fearelesse may we saile Into my Countrey, with a prosperous gale, If the gods grant me my expected day, I to the full shall all these Covenants pay.