Montemayor's Diana

Page 364

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For none come neere (though yet accounted best)
Of purpose he ere thy praises I insert,
For thou didst so much wander in my praise,
That onely this for thanks I doe reuert.
And wordes for wordes doe giue thee now in paise,
And if thou hast extolled me much better,
So all thy giftes in euerie place I blaze,
Ingratefull thou didst call me in thy letter,
And there the proofe was false and very vaine,
And therefore thou must yet remaine my detter.
Although it were not so, thou saidst againe
That I was bound to loue, in being faire,
So worldling like thine argument was plaine.
But see how reason doth the same impaire,
For brighter doth each womans beautte shine,
The more she shines in praise of vertues rare.
So that I shall make nature more diuine,
In following Dianas honest traine,
Then Venus steps, or her fond discipline.
To please her sonne I euer thought it vaine,
Since him I cannot, and Diana please,
For she is chast, dishonest is his chaine.
To serue Apollos sister, sweetest ease
And greatest honour by her loue is got.
Who serues fond loue is drown’d in dolefull seas.
If after Venus sonne thou art so hot,
And dost intend to follow his desires,
If so it please, then how maiest thou not?
I doe not meane to loue what he requires:
And let this God euen worke with me his fill,
He neuer shall consume me in his fires.
Let him not seeke but her, that seekes her ill,
Let him not wound but those that loue his wounds,
Nor subiect those that care not for his will.
But now I knowe not to what purpose soundes
These reasons, that disswade me to imbrace
Cupid thy God, that reason still confoundes.
Since that vnto my will he giueth place,
And on the same his liking doth depend,
Reason in me his colours doe deface.
T’is therefore reason, to the which I tend,
And great it is, since it doth satisfie
My minde, and doth the same so well defend.
Thou writ’st, that if to loue thee I denie,
That I would suffer thee to loue me yet,
Against my will for loue yet wilt thou die.
A pretie meanes procoeding from thy wit,
To pray me not thy deere loue to preuent,

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