First did I fear, when first my love began; Possessed in fits by watchful jealousy, I sought to keep what I by favour won, And brooked no partner in my love to be. But tyrant sickness fed upon my love, And spread his ensigns, dyed with colour white; Then was suspicion glad for to remove, And loving much did fear to lose her quite. Erect, fair sweet, the colors thou didst wear; Dislodge thy griefs; the short'ners of content; For now of life, not love, is all my fear, Lest life and love be both together spent. Live but, fair love, and banish thy disease, And love, kind heart, both where and whom thou please. XXI Licia my love was sitting in a grove, Tuning her smiles unto the chirping songs, But straight she spied where two together strove, Each one complaining of the other's wrongs. Cupid did cry lamenting of the harm; Jove's messenger, thou wrong'st me too too far; Use thou thy rod, rely upon the charm; Think not by speech my force thou canst debar. A rod, Sir boy, were fitter for a child, My weapons oft and tongue and mind you took; And in my wrong at my distress thou smiled, And scorned to grace me with a loving look. Speak you, sweet love, for you did all the wrong That broke his arrows, and did bind his tongue. XXII I might have died before my life begun, Whenas my father for his country's good The Persian's favor and the Sophy won And yet with danger of his dearest blood. Thy father, sweet, whom danger did beset, Escaped all, and for no other end But only this, that you he might beget, Whom heavens decreed into the world to send. Then father, thank thy daughter for thy life, And Neptune praise that yielded so to thee, To calm the tempest when the storms were rife, And that thy daughter should a Venus be. I call thee Venus, sweet, but be not wroth; Thou art more chaste, yet seas did favor both. XXIII My love was masked, and armed with a fan, To see the sun so careless of his light, Which stood and gazed, and gazing waxed wan To see a star himself that was more bright. Some did surmize she hid her from the sun, Of whom in pride she scorned for to be kissed, Or feared the harm by him to others done. But these the reason of this wonder missed, Nor durst the sun, if that her face were bare In greatest pride, presume to take a kiss. But she more kind did show she had more care Than with her eyes eclipse him of his bliss. Unmask you, sweet, and spare not; dim the sun; Your light's enough, although that his were done. XXIV