SIBYLLA

No more possible then to return as you are, to be so young. Women willingly ascribe that to fortune, which wittingly was committed by frowardness. Take heed you do not as I did. Make not too much of fading beauty, which is fair in the cradle, & foul in the graven, resembling Polyon, whose leaves are white in the morning, and blue before night, or Anyta, which being a sweet flower at the rising of the sun, become meth a weed, if it be not plucked before the setting Fair faces have no fruits, if they have no witnesses. When you shall behold over this tender flesh a tough skin, your eyes which were wont to glance on others faces to be sunk so hollow, that you can scarce look out of your own head, and when all your teech shall wag as fast as your tongue, the ̄ will you repent the time which you cannot recall, and be inforced to bear what most you blame. Lose not the pleasant time of your youth, then the which there is nothing swifter, nothing swee ter. Beauty is a slippery good, which decreaseth whilst it is increasing, rese ̄ bling the Meddler, which in the more meant of his full ripeness is known to be in a rottenness. While you look in the glass, it waxes old with time, if on the Sun parched with heat, if on the wind, blame stead with cold. A great care to keep it, a short space to enjoy it, a sudden time to lose it. Be not coy, when you are courted. Fortune's wings are made of times fea the, which stay not whilst one may measure them. Be affable and courteous in youth, that you may be honou read in age. Roses that loose their colours, keep their sa uours, and plucked from the stalk, are put to the still. Counterfeit tonea, because it boweth when the sun riseth, is swee test, when it is oldest: and children, which in their to ̄ der years sow courtesy, shall in their declining states reap pi tie. Be not proud of beauties painting whose colours continued ̄ fume themselves, because they are beauties painting. I continued ̄ mit you to fortune, who is Like to play such pranks with you, as your to ̄ der years can scarce bear, nor your green wits understand. But repair unto me often, and if I cannot remove the effects, yet I will ma nifest the causes. Yet Harken two words, thou shalt get friend ship by dissembling, love by hatred, unless thou pe rish, thou shalt perish: in digging for a stone, thou shalt reach a star: thou shalt be hated most, because thou art loved most. Thy death shall be feared & wished: so much for prophecy, which nothing can prevent: and this for counsel, which thou mayest follow. Keep not company with Ants, that have wings, nor talk with any, near the hill of a mowle, where thou smellest the sweetness of serpents breath, beware thou touch no part of the body. Be not merry among those that put Buglosse in their wine, and sugar in thine. If any talk of the Eclipse of the sun, say thou never sawest it. Nourish no continued nies in thy vaults, nor swallows in thine eves. Sow next thy vine Mandrage, and ever keep thine ears oh pen, and thy mouth shut, thine eyes upward, and thy fingers down: so shalt thou do better then otherwise, though never so well as I wish. Farewell, I can answer no more. Then to the purpose. Choose such times to break thy suit, as thy Lady is pleasant. The wooden horse en tread Troy, when the soldiers were quaffing, and Penelope forsooth, whom fables make so coy, among the pots wrong her wooers by the fists, when she lowered on their faces. Grapes are mind glasses. Venus works in Bac chus press, & blows fire upon his liquour. When thon talkest with her, let thy speech be pleasant, but not in credible. Choose such words as may (as many may) melt her mind. Honney rankles, when it is eaten for plea sure and fair words wound, when they are heard for love. Write, and persist in writing, they read more then is written to them, & write less then they think. In continued ̄ ceite study to be pleasant in attire brave, but not too curious, when she smileth laugh outright, if rise, stand up, if fit, lie down. Lose all thy time to keep time with her. Can you sing, show your cunning, can you dance, use your legs, can you play upon ̄ any instrument, pra ctise your fingers to please her fancy, seek out qualy ties. If she seem at the first cruel, be not discouraged. I tell the a strange thing, Women strive, because they would be overcome, force they call it: but such a well come force they account it, that continually, they study to be inforced. To fair words join sweet kisses, which if they gently receive, I say no more, they will gently re ceiue. But be not pinned always on her sleeves, straun gers have green rushes, when ̄ daily guests are not worth a rush. Look pale, and learn to be lean, that who so sees thee, may say, the Gentleman is in love. Use no forcerie to hasten thy success, wit is a witch, Ulysses was not fair, but wise, not cunning in charms, but sweet in speech, whose filed to ̄ gue made those enamoured that sought to have him inchau ̄ ted. Be not coy, bear, sooth, swear, die to please thy Lady, these are rules for poor lovers, to others I am no mistress. He hath wit enough, that can give enough. Dumb men are eloquent, if they be liberal. Believe me great gifts are little Gods. When thy mistress does bend her brow, do not thou bend thy fist. Camokes must be bowed with sleight, not stre ̄ gth, water to be trained with pipes, not stopped with sluses, fire to be quenched with dust, not with swords. If thou have a ryuall, be patient, art must wind him out not malice: time, not might, her change, and thy constan cy. Whatsoever she weareth: swear it becomes her. In thy louce be secret. Venus coffers, though they be hol low, never found, & when they seem emptiest, they are fullest. Old fool that I am, to do thee good, I begin to dote, & counsel that, which I would have concea led. Thus Phao have I given thee certain regards, no rules, only to set thee in the way, not to bring thee ho ̄ e. Fair youth, if you will be advised by me, you shall for this time seek none other Inn, then my cave: for that it is no less perilous to travail by night, then uncomfortable. Come near, take a stool, and fit down. Now, for that these winter nights are long, and that children delight in nothing more then to hear old wives tales, we will beguile the time with some story. And though you behold wrinkles and furrows in my tawny face: yet may you happily find wisdom and counsel in my white hairs. Were you born so fair by nature? For what cause? Why, do you love, and cannot obtain? Take heed of that my child. Then Harken to my tale, which I hope shall be as a straight thread to lead you out of those crooked conceits, and place you in the plain path of love. When I was young, as you now are, I speak it without boasting, I was as beautiful: for Phœbus in his Godhead sought to get my maiden head: but I, fond wench, receiving a benefit from above, began to wax sqemishe beneath, not unlike to Asolis, which being made green by heavenly drops, shrinketh into the ground when there fallen showers: or the Syrian mud, which being made white chalk by the sun, never cea seth rolling, till it lie in the shadow. He to sweet prayers added great promises, I either desirous to make trial of his power, or willing to prolong mine own life, caught up my handful of sand, consenting to his suit, if I might live as many years as there were grains. Phœbus, (for what cannot Gods do, and what for love will they not do,) granted my petition. And then I sigh and blush to tell the rest, I recalled my promise. Angry my boy, which was the cause that I was unfortunate. None, but suffering us to live, and know we are no Gods. I will Having received long life by Phœbus, & rare beauty by nature, I thought all the year would have been May, that fresh colours would always con tinue, y to time & fortune could not wear out, what Gods and nature had wrought up: not once imagining that white and read should return to black and yellow, the Juniper, the longer it grew, the crookedder it waxed, or that in a face without blemish, there should come wrin kles without number. I did as you do, go with my glass, ravished with the pride of mine own beauty, & you shall do as I do, loath to see a glass disdaining deformity. There was none that herd of my fault, but shunned my favour, insomuch as I stooped for age before I tasted of youth, sure to be long lived, uncertain to be beloved. Gentlemen that used to sighs from their hearts for my sweet love, began to point with their fingers at my with red face, & laughed to see the eyes, out of which fire seemed to sparkle, to be suckered being old with specta cles. This causeth me to withdraw my self to a solitary cave, where I must lead six hundred years in no less pensiveness of crabbed age, then grief of remembered youth. Only this comfort, that being ceased to be fair, I study to be wise, wishing to be thought a graven matro ̄ , since I cannot return to be a young maid. Who is there? Fair Phao? Come in. A short tale Phao, and a sorrowful, it asks pity rather then counsel. It is hard to cure that by words, which cannot be eased by herbs, and yet if thou wilt take advice, be attentive. Love, fair child, is to be governed by art, as thy boat by and oar: for fancy, though it continued ̄ meth by hazard, is ruled by wisdom. If my precepts may persuade, (and I pray thee let them persuade) I would wish thee first to be diligent: for that Women desire nothing more then to have their servants officious. Be always in sighed, but never slothful. Flatter I mean, lie, little things catch light minds, and fancy is a worm, that feeds first upon fenell. Imagine with thy self all are to be wone, otherwise mine advise were as unnecessary as thy labour. It is unpossible for the brittle mettle of wome ̄ to withstand the flattering attempts of men: only this, let them be asked, their sex requires no less, their more desties are to be allowed so much. Be prodigal in pray ses and promises, beauty must have a trumpet, & pride a gift. Peacocks never spread their feathers, but when they are flattered, & Gods are seldom pleased, if they be not bribed. There is none so foul, that thinketh not her self fair. In commending thou canst lose no la bor. for of every one thou shalt be believed. Oh simple women, that are brought rather to believe what their ears hear of flattering men, then what their eyes see in true glasses. Thou shalt not surfette Phao, whilst I diet thee. Flies that die on the honney suckle become poison to bees. A little in love is a great deal. White silver draws black lines, and sweet words will breed sharp torments. Go dare Phao, welcome, what news? Do so Phao: for destiny calls thee aswell from Sycily as from love. Other things hang over thy head, which I must neither tell, nor thou inquire. And so farewell.