Montemayor's Diana

Page 409

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But yet take heede of Cupids fine deceates:
For that proud hart, that ouermuch presumes,
From cruell loue his senses to defend,
The more he yeeldes, the more to striue he sweates:
O that thou wert so wounded in his heates,
As now my selfe I see:
But euer it is vnto mee
The best aduise, no good to craue:
For whatsoeuer it would haue,
Though heauen, and earth the more it doth importune,
It euer was denied by Loue, and Fortune.
My song, in pine I will no wise ingraue thee,
Nor hardned Oke, but rather will commend thee
Vnto the windes, where they will tosse and waue thee,
And to the deafe and desart Champian send thee:
Bicause my torments, of their hope depriued,
And memorie of them, which makes me sorie,
May be forgot, and neuer be reuiued,
Now that my life is lost and chiefest glorie.

The delicate voice and excellent graces of Diana, surmounted farre the praises of the fairest and most skilfull Shepherdesses of her time. And the quauers and fine conceits wherewith so sweetely she brake her voice, and adorned her songs, made her to be the more admired: For they were so rare and singular, that they rather seemed to be fetcht from some maiesticall court, then knowen in the homely coun∣trey. The which ought not to be so much wondred at, nor thought so strange, since Loue is able to make the simplest Shepherds discourse of high and learned matters, especially if it finde a liuely wit and spirit, which in those pastorall cottages is sel∣dome wanting. But as the enamoured Shepherdesse was now ending her song, about that time that the cleere Sunne began to lessen the shadowes of the high hils, despised Marcelius taking his leaue of his pastorall lodging, to come to the place where he had appointed to meete Diana, came downe from the hill aboue, at the foote whereof she was sitting to attende him: whom when she had espied a far off, she held her peace, bicause he might not vnderstand the cause of her griefe. When Marcelius was come to the place where Diana stayed for him, he saide vnto her. The cleere light of this day (faire Shepherdesse) which with the more resplendant beames of thy shining beautic did arise, be as ioyfull and happie to thee, as to me most sor∣rowfull, if in thy good company I passe it not away. Truely I am ashamed to see, that my slownes hath made thee stay heere all alone so carefull for my comming; but this is not the first fault that (faire Diana) thou must pardon me during the time that I shall conuerse with thee. As that pardon should be vaine (answered Diana) where there is no fault; so thou art not to be blamed for any such small care, but rather the earnest desire that I had to rise so early, and to come hither, where I haue passed away the time in sundrie fancies, and in thinking of the effects which belong to a trou∣bled minde. But here is no time nor place for vs to stay, since the desire I haue to be at Dianas Temple is great, though the way is very short: as also for that the morning being somewhat fresh, we may before the Sunne begins to powre downe his beames

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