Montemayor's Diana

Page 319

Home  /  Facsimile  /  Page 319

Previous Page Next Page



not therein pleasure them, since she wanted so much her owne content of minde. They endeuouring to comfort her, gaue her some hope, saying, that in the end sor∣rowes and griefes are not perpetuall, and that she should remember that common song that saith.

Continuall griefe and sorrow neuer wanteth, &c.

Bicause therefore you may see (said Diana) how ill this saying is vnderstoode, tune your Bagpipe with your Rebecke, and walking towards our flockes, bicause it is now time to gather them vp, although I thought not to doe it, yet will I sing as well as I can vpon this theame, and you shall take the tune of the song, as of a wo∣man so much tuned in miseries and mishappes as nothing more. Firmius and Fau∣stus made no delay: And then Diana like a desperate woman, with a mournsull and sorrowfull voice began thus, taking for her first verse that, which they had alreadie alleaged for her comfort.

COntinuall greefe and sorrow neuer wanteth,
Where feeding hope continues, not decaying:
But euermore despaire, that greefe recanteth,
From former course of minde doth cause estraying.
The glosse.
Riuers arise and run into the seas,
And waters without number day by day,
And yet the same seeme neuer to decay,
But new doe spring, and run and doe increase.
So endlesse woes arise and multiplie,
Redoubled one vpon anothers head:
(For one in truth is with another fed)
Still doe they come and yet they neuer die.
For since their fertill rootes each moment planteth,
Continuall greefe and sorrow neuer wanteth.
Torments of minde and vilest miseries
Are sworne to dwell within a haplesse soule,
And there her ioies and pleasures doe controule,
As to my selfe my sweete content denies:
Then let not any Louer thinke to gaine
The meanest thing, that liues in any hope,
But liuing so, to fall into a scope,
And wander in a world of greefe and paine:
For miseries, men say, continue staying,
Where feeding hope continue not decaying.
Who knowes it not, Alas I knowe it well,
That if a wofull soule is hoping still,
She seldome doth enioy her mind and will,
But that her hope must euer be her hell:


Previous Page Next Page