Which from her humane nature tooke, And straight to heaven with winged feare,<33.17> Thus, ravisht with her, ravish her. The nymph reply'd: This holy rape Became the gods, whose obscure shape They cloth'd with light, whilst ill you grieve Your better life should ever live, And weep that she, to whom you wish What heav'n could give, has all its blisse. Calling her angell here, yet be Sad at this true divinity: She's for the altar, not the skies, Whom first you crowne, then sacrifice. Fond man thus to a precipice Aspires, till at the top his eyes Have lost the safety of the plain, Then begs of Fate the vales againe. The now confounded shepheard cries: Ye all-confounding destines! How did you make that voice so sweet Without that glorious form to it? Thou sacred spirit of my deare, Where e're thou hoverst o're us, hear! Imbark thee in the lawrell tree, And a new Phebus follows thee, Who, 'stead of all his burning rayes, Will strive to catch thee with his layes; Or, if within the Orient Vine, Thou art both deity and wine; But if thou takest the mirtle grove, That Paphos is, thou, Queene of Love, And I, thy swain who (else) must die, By no beasts, but thy cruelty: But you are rougher than the winde. Are souls on earth then heav'n<33.18> more kind? Imprisoned in mortality Lucasta would have answered me. Lucasta, Amarantha said, Is she that virgin-star? a maid, Except her prouder livery, In beauty poore, and cheap as I; Whose glory like a meteor shone, Or aery apparition, Admir'd a while, but slighted known. Fierce, as the chafed lyon hies, He rowses him, and to her flies, Thinking to answer with his speare---- Now, as in warre intestine where, Ith' mist of a black battell, each Layes at his next, then makes a breach Through th' entrayles of another, whom He sees nor knows whence he did come, Guided alone by rage and th' drumme, But stripping and impatient wild, He finds too soon his onely child. So our expiring desp'rate lover Far'd when, amaz'd, he did discover Lucasta in this nymph; his sinne Darts the accursed javelin 'Gainst his own breast, which she puts by With a soft lip and gentle eye, Then closes with him on the ground And now her smiles have heal'd his wound. Alexis too again is found; But not untill those heavy crimes She hath kis'd off a thousand times, Who not contented with this pain, Doth threaten to offend again. And now they gaze, and sigh, and weep, Whilst each cheek doth the other's steep, Whilst tongues, as exorcis'd, are calm; Onely the rhet'rick of the palm Prevailing pleads, untill at last They[re] chain'd in one another fast. Lucasta to him doth relate Her various chance and diffring fate: How chac'd by Hydraphil, and tract The num'rous foe to Philanact, Who whilst they for the same things fight, As Bards decrees and Druids rite, For safeguard of their proper joyes And shepheards freedome, each destroyes The glory of this Sicilie; Since seeking thus the remedie, They fancy (building on false ground)