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minde, with my fauours, and so soone to be wearie of the loue that thou didst beare me? Thou mightest imagine, that it was no lesse in my power, to forget and despise thee, as thou hast forgotten me. For it is the part of those, that handle not their matters of loue so well as they shoulde, to thinke that their Mistresses may play the like partes with them, as they haue done before; though some vse it for a remedie and policie to make their loue encrease the more. And others, that iealousie (the occasion whereof most commonly they faine) may so captiuate their Mistresses mindes, that (as they make them beleeue) they are not able to settle their affection in any other place: whereupon most of them come by little and little to manifest all that they fained before, whereby more cleerely they discouer their disloyaltie. All which extremes at last result to the greefe and preiudice of vs poore soules, who (not considering how the endes of such things commonly fall out) doe so deepely sinke into that kinde of assured affection, that we neuer leaue of to loue you, nor you to requite vs with ingratitude and inconstancie, as thou dost that loue (disloyall Ala∣nius) which I haue borne, and doe still beare thee. So that which of these thou hast bene, I cannot coniecture. But wonder not Seluagia, that thou vnderstandest so little in matters of disdaine, that art so well practised in loues affaires. Thou didst euer beare an honest and vertuous pretence by thy wordes, whereby I neuer looked for lesse by thy deedes, which made me thinke, that that loue, (whereby thou mad’st me beleeue, that thy desire extended to wish no more of me, then pure loue againe) should neuer haue an end: for if any further drift had bene in thy desires, I woulde neuer haue suspected firmnesse in thy loue. O wretched woman, how soone haue I begun to know thy intentions, and yet how late to preuent my harmes? Come thou to me my pretie Bagpipe, and with thee will I passe the time away: for had I spent it onely in thy exercise and delight, it had bene better for me: and after she had plaied a while on it, she began to sing this Sextine following.

WAters that fall from top of these steepe Hils,
With such a noyse into these lowe deepe Vales,
Why thinke you not of those, which from my Soule
Continually distill my wearied Eies?
And what’s the cause of them? Vnluckie Time,
In which hard fortune robbed all my Ioy.
Loue gaue me hope of such a golden Ioy,
That ther’s no Shepherdesse in all these Hils,
That had such cause to praise a happy Time:
But after he did put me in these Vales
Of swelling teares, that fall from both mine Eies:
Not to behold such greefe as kils my Soule.
Such is the paine, that wounds a louing Soule,
That in the end I know what thing is Ioy:
O where shall I then turne my wearied Eies?
If that the medowes, woods, the plaines, and Hils,
The pleasant groues, and fountaines of the Vales,
Still to my thoughts present so sweete a Time?
Who would haue thought that such a happy Time
Should be so fierce a torment to my Soule?
Or cruell fortune banish me the Vale,

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