Second Sestiad

By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted,Viewing Leander’s face, fell down and fainted.He kissed her and breathed life into her lips,Wherewith as one displeased away she trips.Yet, as she went, full often looked behind,And many poor excuses did she findTo linger by the way, and once she stayed,And would have turned again, but was afraid,In offering parley, to be counted light.So on she goes and in her idle flightHer painted fan of curled plumes let fall,Thinking to train Leander therewithal.He, being a novice, knew not what she meantBut stayed, and after her a letter sent,Which joyful Hero answered in such sort,As he had hope to scale the beauteous fortWherein the liberal Graces locked their wealth,And therefore to her tower he got by stealth.Wide open stood the door, he need not climb,And she herself before the pointed timeHad spread the board, with roses strowed the room,And oft looked out, and mused he did not come.At last he came. O who can tell the greetingThese greedy lovers had at their first meeting.He asked, she gave, and nothing was denied.Both to each other quickly were affied.Look how their hands, so were their hearts united,And what he did she willingly requited.(Sweet are the kisses, the embracements sweet,When like desires and affections meet,For from the earth to heaven is Cupid raised,Where fancy is in equal balance peised.)Yet she this rashness suddenly repentedAnd turned aside, and to herself lamentedAs if her name and honour had been wrongedBy being possessed of him for whom she longed.Ay, and she wished, albeit not from her heartThat he would leave her turret and depart.The mirthful god of amorous pleasure smiledTo see how he this captive nymph beguiled.For hitherto he did but fan the fire,And kept it down that it might mount the higher.Now waxed she jealous lest his love abated,Fearing her own thoughts made her to be hated.Therefore unto him hastily she goesAnd, like light Salmacis, her body throwsUpon his bosom where with yielding eyesShe offers up herself a sacrificeTo slake his anger if he were displeased.O, what god would not therewith be appeased?Like Aesop’s cock this jewel he enjoyedAnd as a brother with his sister toyedSupposing nothing else was to be done,Now he her favour and good will had won.But know you not that creatures wanting senseBy nature have a mutual appetence,And, wanting organs to advance a step,Moved by love’s force unto each other lep?Much more in subjects having intellectSome hidden influence breeds like effect.Albeit Leander rude in love and raw,Long dallying with Hero, nothing sawThat might delight him more, yet he suspectedSome amorous rites or other were neglected.Therefore unto his body hers he clung.She, fearing on the rushes to be flung,Strived with redoubled strength; the more she strivedThe more a gentle pleasing heat revived,Which taught him all that elder lovers know.And now the same gan so to scorch and glowAs in plain terms (yet cunningly) he craved it.Love always makes those eloquent that have it.She, with a kind of granting, put him by itAnd ever, as he thought himself most nigh it,Like to the tree of Tantalus, she fledAnd, seeming lavish, saved her maidenhead.Ne’er king more sought to keep his diadem,Than Hero this inestimable gem.Above our life we love a steadfast friend,Yet when a token of great worth we send,We often kiss it, often look thereon,And stay the messenger that would be gone.No marvel then, though Hero would not yieldSo soon to part from that she dearly held.Jewels being lost are found again, this never;’Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost forever.

Now had the morn espied her lover’s steeds,Whereat she starts, puts on her purple weeds,And red for anger that he stayed so longAll headlong throws herself the clouds among.And now Leander, fearing to be missed,Embraced her suddenly, took leave, and kissed.Long was he taking leave, and loath to go,And kissed again as lovers use to do.Sad Hero wrung him by the hand and weptSaying, “Let your vows and promises be kept.”Then standing at the door she turned aboutAs loath to see Leander going out.And now the sun that through th’ horizon peeps,As pitying these lovers, downward creeps,So that in silence of the cloudy night,Though it was morning, did he take his flight.But what the secret trusty night concealedLeander’s amorous habit soon revealed.With Cupid’s myrtle was his bonnet crowned,About his arms the purple riband woundWherewith she wreathed her largely spreading hair.Nor could the youth abstain, but he must wearThe sacred ring wherewith she was endowedWhen first religious chastity she vowed.Which made his love through Sestos to be known,And thence unto Abydos sooner blownThan he could sail; for incorporeal fameWhose weight consists in nothing but her name,Is swifter than the wind, whose tardy plumesAre reeking water and dull earthly fumes.Home when he came, he seemed not to be there,But, like exiled air thrust from his sphere,Set in a foreign place; and straight from thence,Alcides like, by mighty violenceHe would have chased away the swelling mainThat him from her unjustly did detain.Like as the sun in a diameterFires and inflames objects removed far,And heateth kindly, shining laterally,So beauty sweetly quickens when ’tis nigh,But being separated and removed,Burns where it cherished, murders where it loved.Therefore even as an index to a book,So to his mind was young Leander’s look.O, none but gods have power their love to hide,Affection by the countenance is descried.The light of hidden fire itself discovers,And love that is concealed betrays poor lovers,His secret flame apparently was seen.Leander’s father knew where he had beenAnd for the same mildly rebuked his son,Thinking to quench the sparkles new begun.But love resisted once grows passionate,And nothing more than counsel lovers hate.For as a hot proud horse highly disdainsTo have his head controlled, but breaks the reins,Spits forth the ringled bit, and with his hoovesChecks the submissive ground; so he that loves,The more he is restrained, the worse he fares.What is it now, but mad Leander dares?“O Hero, Hero!” thus he cried full oft;And then he got him to a rock aloft,Where having spied her tower, long stared he on’t,And prayed the narrow toiling HellespontTo part in twain, that he might come and go;But still the rising billows answered, “No.”With that he stripped him to the ivory skinAnd, crying “Love, I come,” leaped lively in.Whereat the sapphire visaged god grew proud,And made his capering Triton sound aloud,Imagining that Ganymede, displeased,Had left the heavens; therefore on him he seized.Leander strived; the waves about him wound,And pulled him to the bottom, where the groundWas strewed with pearl, and in low coral grovesSweet singing mermaids sported with their lovesOn heaps of heavy gold, and took great pleasureTo spurn in careless sort the shipwrack treasure.For here the stately azure palace stoodWhere kingly Neptune and his train abode.The lusty god embraced him, called him “Love,”And swore he never should return to Jove.But when he knew it was not Ganymede,For under water he was almost dead,He heaved him up and, looking on his face,Beat down the bold waves with his triple mace,Which mounted up, intending to have kissed him,And fell in drops like tears because they missed him.Leander, being up, began to swimAnd, looking back, saw Neptune follow him,Whereat aghast, the poor soul ’gan to cry“O, let me visit Hero ere I die!”The god put Helle’s bracelet on his arm,And swore the sea should never do him harm.He clapped his plump cheeks, with his tresses playedAnd, smiling wantonly, his love bewrayed.He watched his arms and, as they opened wideAt every stroke, betwixt them would he slideAnd steal a kiss, and then run out and dance,And, as he turned, cast many a lustful glance,And threw him gaudy toys to please his eye,And dive into the water, and there pryUpon his breast, his thighs, and every limb,And up again, and close beside him swim,And talk of love. Leander made reply,“You are deceived; I am no woman, I.”Thereat smiled Neptune, and then told a tale,How that a shepherd, sitting in a vale,Played with a boy so fair and kind,As for his love both earth and heaven pined;That of the cooling river durst not drink,Lest water nymphs should pull him from the brink.And when he sported in the fragrant lawns,Goat footed satyrs and upstaring faunsWould steal him thence. Ere half this tale was done,“Ay me,” Leander cried, “th’ enamoured sunThat now should shine on Thetis’ glassy bower,Descends upon my radiant Hero’s tower.O, that these tardy arms of mine were wings!”And, as he spake, upon the waves he springs.Neptune was angry that he gave no ear,And in his heart revenging malice bare.He flung at him his mace but, as it went,He called it in, for love made him repent.The mace, returning back, his own hand hitAs meaning to be venged for darting it.When this fresh bleeding wound Leander viewed,His colour went and came, as if he ruedThe grief which Neptune felt. In gentle breastsRelenting thoughts, remorse, and pity rests.And who have hard hearts and obdurate minds,But vicious, harebrained, and illiterate hinds?The god, seeing him with pity to be moved,Thereon concluded that he was beloved.(Love is too full of faith, too credulous,With folly and false hope deluding us.)Wherefore, Leander’s fancy to surprise,To the rich Ocean for gifts he flies.’Tis wisdom to give much; a gift prevailsWhen deep persuading oratory fails.

By this Leander, being near the land,Cast down his weary feet and felt the sand.Breathless albeit he were he rested notTill to the solitary tower he got,And knocked and called. At which celestial noiseThe longing heart of Hero much more joysThan nymphs and shepherds when the timbrel rings,Or crooked dolphin when the sailor sings.She stayed not for her robes but straight aroseAnd, drunk with gladness, to the door she goes,Where seeing a naked man, she screeched for fear(Such sights as this to tender maids are rare)And ran into the dark herself to hide.(Rich jewels in the dark are soonest spied).Unto her was he led, or rather drawnBy those white limbs which sparkled through the lawn.The nearer that he came, the more she fled,And, seeking refuge, slipped into her bed.Whereon Leander sitting thus began,Through numbing cold, all feeble, faint, and wan.“If not for love, yet, love, for pity sake,Me in thy bed and maiden bosom take.At least vouchsafe these arms some little room,Who, hoping to embrace thee, cheerly swum.This head was beat with many a churlish billow,And therefore let it rest upon thy pillow.”Herewith affrighted, Hero shrunk away,And in her lukewarm place Leander lay,Whose lively heat, like fire from heaven fet,Would animate gross clay and higher setThe drooping thoughts of base declining soulsThan dreary Mars carousing nectar bowls.His hands he cast upon her like a snare.She, overcome with shame and sallow fear,Like chaste Diana when Actaeon spied her,Being suddenly betrayed, dived down to hide her.And, as her silver body downward went,With both her hands she made the bed a tent,And in her own mind thought herself secure,O’ercast with dim and darksome coverture.And now she lets him whisper in her ear,Flatter, entreat, promise, protest and swear;Yet ever, as he greedily assayedTo touch those dainties, she the harpy played,And every limb did, as a soldier stout,Defend the fort, and keep the foeman out.For though the rising ivory mount he scaled,Which is with azure circling lines empaled,Much like a globe (a globe may I term this,By which love sails to regions full of bliss)Yet there with Sisyphus he toiled in vain,Till gentle parley did the truce obtain.Wherein Leander on her quivering breastBreathless spoke something, and sighed out the rest;Which so prevailed, as he with small adoEnclosed her in his arms and kissed her too.And every kiss to her was as a charm,And to Leander as a fresh alarm,So that the truce was broke and she, alas,(Poor silly maiden) at his mercy was.Love is not full of pity (as men say)But deaf and cruel where he means to prey.Even as a bird, which in our hands we wring,Forth plungeth and oft flutters with her wing,She trembling strove. This strife of hers (like thatWhich made the world) another world begatOf unknown joy. Treason was in her thought,And cunningly to yield herself she sought.Seeming not won, yet won she was at length.In such wars women use but half their strength.Leander now, like Theban Hercules,Entered the orchard of th’ Hesperides;Whose fruit none rightly can describe but heThat pulls or shakes it from the golden tree.And now she wished this night were never done,And sighed to think upon th’ approaching sun;For much it grieved her that the bright daylightShould know the pleasure of this blessed night,And them, like Mars and Erycine, displayBoth in each other’s arms chained as they lay.Again, she knew not how to frame her look,Or speak to him, who in a moment tookThat which so long so charily she kept,And fain by stealth away she would have crept,And to some corner secretly have gone,Leaving Leander in the bed alone.But as her naked feet were whipping out,He on the sudden clinged her so about,That, mermaid-like, unto the floor she slid.One half appeared, the other half was hid.Thus near the bed she blushing stood upright,And from her countenance behold ye mightA kind of twilight break, which through the hair,As from an orient cloud, glimpsed here and there,And round about the chamber this false mornBrought forth the day before the day was born.So Hero’s ruddy cheek Hero betrayed,And her all naked to his sight displayed,Whence his admiring eyes more pleasure tookThan Dis, on heaps of gold fixing his look.By this, Apollo’s golden harp beganTo sound forth music to the ocean,Which watchful Hesperus no sooner heardBut he the bright day-bearing car preparedAnd ran before, as harbinger of light,And with his flaring beams mocked ugly night,Till she, o’ercome with anguish, shame, and rage,Danged down to hell her loathsome carriage.