EURYMINE

Why then Orestes let me crave of you Some old, or late done story to renew: Another time you shall request of me As good, if not, a greater courtesy. Thats but your melancholic old disease, That never are disposed but when you please. Thanks good Phylander, when you please say on, Better I deem a bade discourse, then none. How, was he not of metal apt to love? What made him so repugnant in his deeds? Alas, how sped the silly Lovers then? Of what, her life? And did they kill her? In each of them it was a bloody act: Yet they deserve (to speak my mind of both) Most pardon, that were bound thereto by oath. To pass unblamed, what ere become of me? What may the meaning of these speeches be? Ay me, what horror does invade my breast? Phylander is it true? or does he jest? Mine innocency. If neither tears nor innocency move, Yet think there is a heavenly power above. Then since there is no remedy, I pray Yet good my masters, do but stay so long Till I have taken my farewell with a song, Of him whom I shall never see again. But least the fear of death appall my mind, Sweet gentlemen let me this favour find. That you will vale mine eyesight with this scarf: That when the fatal stroke is aymde at me, I may not start, but suffer patiently. O I would it might, But shadows want the power to do that right. You sacred Fires, and powers above, Forge of desires working love, Cast down your eye, cast down your eye Upon a Maid in misery. My sacrifice is lovers blood: And from eyes salt tears a flood: All which I spend, all which I spend For thee Ascanio, my deer friend: And though this hour I must feel The bitter Sour of pricking steel, Yet ill or well, yet ill or well To thee Ascanio still farewell. Little thought & when out of door I went, That thus my life should stand on argument. The Like I wish unto your selves again: And many happy days devoid of pain. And now Eurymine record thy state, So much dejected, and oppressed by fate: What hope remains? wherein hast thou to joy? Wherein to triumph, but thine own annoy? If ever wretch might tell of misery, Then I alas, poor I, am only she: Unknown of parents, destitute of friends, Hopeful of nought, but what misfortune sends. Banished, to live a fugitive alone, In uncouth paths, and regions never known. Behold Ascanio, for thy only sake, These tedious travels I must undertake: Nor do I grudge, the pain seems less to me, In that I suffer this distress for thee. It were no marvel if you knew my moan. But what are you that question me so far? Trust me, I saw not any, so farewell. Since needs you will, that I renew my grief, Whither it be my chance to find relief Or not, I wreak not: such my crosses are, As sooner I expect to meet despair. Then thus it is: not far from hence do dwell My parents, of the world esteemed well: Who with their bitter threats, my grau ̄ to had wone, This day to marry with a neighbours son. And such a one, to whom I should be wife, As I could never fancy in my life. And therefore to avoid that endless thrall, This morn I came away and left them all. It is my purpose, if I might obtain A place of refuge where I might remain. Thanks to you both, you both deserve so well, As I want skill your worthiness to tell: And both I do commend for your good will, And both I'll honour, love and reverence still: For never virgin had such kindness shown, Of strangers, yea, and men to her unknown. But more, to end this sudden controversy, Since I am made and vmpier in the plea, This is my verdite: I'll entreat of you A Cottage for my dwelling: and of you, A flock to tend: and so indifferent My grateful pains on either shall be spent. Although there be such difference in the change, To live in Court, and desert woods to range, Yet in extremes, wherein we cannot choose, And extreme refuge is not to refuse. Good gentlemen, did any see my herd? I shall not find them out, I am afeard: And yet my master waiteth with his bow, Within a standing, for to strike a Do. You saw them not? your silence makes me doubt: I must go further, till I ind them out. Forsooth my herd of Dear. I pray Sir, where? So much the more my toil to fetch them in. I thank you Sir. My business, cannot so dispatched be. Good sir, my business calls me hence in hast. Why Sir, would you desire another make? And wear that garland for your Mistress sake? Now truly Sir, you offer me great wrong, To hold me from my business here so long. But I may know, if you would please to tell. No sir, by these discourses may I see, You mock me with a forged pedigree. If son you be to Jove, as erst you said, In making love unto a mortal maid, You work dishonour to your deity: I must be gone: I thank you for your courtesy. I pray sir heartily, give me leave to go. If Phœbus, thou of Jove the offspring be, Dishonour not thy deity so much, With proffered force, a silly maid to touch: For doing so, although a God thou be, The earth, and men on earth, shall ring thy infamy. What know I that? If that your love be such, As you pretend, so fervent and so much, For proof thereof, grant me but one request. Then Phœbus thus it is, if thou be he, That art pretended in thy pedigree, If son thou be to Jove as thou dost feign, And chalengest that title not in vain: Now her bewray some sign of godhead than? And change me straight, from shape of maid to man? These vain excuses, manifestly show, Whither you usurp Appollos name or no. Sith my demand so far surmounts your Art, You join exceptions, on the other partly. Apollo, whither I love a man or not, I thank you, now I will accept my lot: And sith my change hath disappointed you, You are at liberty to love anew. Yet can I boast, though Phœbus were unjust This shift did serve, to bar him from his lust. But who are these alone? I cannot choose But blush for shame, that any one should see, Eurymine in this disguise to be. Fair youths, you have forgotten for what you came, You seek your Love, she's gone. Not so, my sister had no will to go: But that our parents dread command was so. By great Apollos sacred Deity, That shepherdess so near is Sib to me, As I ne may (for all this world) her wed: For she and I in one self womb were bred. But she is gone, her flock is left to me. Go both, cold comfort shall you find, My manly shape, hath yet a woman's mind: Prove to reveal what secret she does know, God pardon me, I was about to show My transformation: peace they come again. I told you so. I am content: have with you, when you will. He'll make you muse, if he have any skill. Ascanio, time hath be I must confess, When in thy presence was my happiness: But now the manner of my misery, Hath changed that course, that so it cannot be. How gladly would I be thy Lady still, If earnest vows might answer to my will? My kind, but not my mind in any wise. And so I do. Ascanio, my heart does honour thee. Not strange, so far as kind will give me leave. As a friend his friend: And so I vow to love thee to the end. That love's denied unto my present kind. Does kind allow a man to love a man? I am. The very same. Most true. Too true. In name, but not in sex. A man. The guise thou seest, does with my kind agree. True Ascanio. Too true deer friend. But found a friend, whose dearest blood and life, Shall be as ready as thine own for thee: In place of wife, such friend thou hast of me. To show how I arrived in this ground, Were but renewing of and ancient wound: Another time that office isle fulfil, Let it suffice, I came against my will. And wandering here about this Forest side, It was my chance of Phœbus to be spied. Whose love because I chastely did withstand, He thought to offer me a violent hand. But for a present shift to shun his rape, I wished my self transformde into this shape: Which he performed (God knows) against his will: And I since then, have wailed my fortune still. Not for misliking ought I find in me, But for thy sake, whose wife I meant to be. But Phœbus such disdain to me does bear, As hardly we shall win his grant I fear. As in another world of greater bliss My daunted spirits do stand amazed at this. So great a tied of comfort overflows, As what to say, my faltering tongue scarce knows: But only this, unperfect though it be, Immortal thanks great Phœbus unto thee. Most willingly. Here while I live a solemn oath I make, To love the Laurel for Apollos sake. Respect my tears. My tender years. Here do I plighted my chaste unspotted hand, I will abjure this most accursed land: And vow henceforth what fortune ere betide, Within these woods and deserts to abide. That or what else, to verify your tale: And thanks Phylander, and Orestes both, That you preserve me from a Tyrants wrath. A double debt, yet one word ere you go, Commmend me to my deer Ascanio: Whose loyal love, and presence to forgo, Does gall me more then all my other woe. Alas good Sir, the cause may not be known, That hath inforste me to be here alone. PHylander, and Orestes, what conceit Troubles your silent minds? Let me entreat Since we are come thus far, as we do walk You would devise some pretty pleasant talk: The air is cool, the evening high and fair, Why should your cloudy looks, then show despair? Hark some one hallows: gentlemen adieu, In this at re I dare not stay their view. Bright Lamp of glory, pardon my rashness passed