In so moche the stumpe, whereto I me lente, Sterte all at ones an hundrethe[1557] fote backe: With that I sprange vp towarde the tent Of noble Dame Pallas, wherof I spake; Where I sawe come[1558] after, I wote, full lytell lake Of a thousande poetes assembled togeder: But Phebus was formest of all that cam theder; Of laurell leuis a cronell on his hede, With heris encrisped[1559] yalowe[1560] as the golde, Lamentyng Daphnes, whome with the darte of lede 290 Cupyde hath stryken so that she ne wolde Concente to Phebus to haue his herte in holde, But, for to preserue her maidenhode[1561] clene, Transformyd was she into the laurell grene. Meddelyd with murnynge[1562] the moost parte of his muse, O thoughtfull herte, was euermore his songe! Daphnes, my derlynge, why do you me refuse? Yet loke on me, that louyd you haue so longe, Yet haue compassyon vpon my paynes stronge: He sange also how, the tre as he did take 300 Betwene his armes, he felt her body quake. Then he assurded into this[1563] exclamacyon Vnto Diana, the goddes inmortall;[1564] O mercyles madame, hard is your constellacyon, So close to kepe your cloyster virgynall, Enhardid adyment the sement of your wall! Alas, what ayle you to be so ouerthwhart, To bannysshe pyte out of a maydens harte? Why haue the goddes shewyd me this cruelte, Sith I contryuyd first princyples medycynable? 310 I helpe all other of there infirmite, But now to helpe myselfe I am not able; That profyteth all other is nothynge profytable Vnto me; alas, that herbe nor gresse[1565] The feruent axes of loue can not represse! O fatall fortune, what haue I offendid? Odious disdayne, why raist thou me on this facyon? But sith I haue lost now that I entended, And may not[1566] atteyne it by no medyacyon, Yet, in remembraunce of Daphnes transformacyon, 320 All famous poetis ensuynge after me Shall were a garlande of the laurell tre. This sayd, a great nowmber folowyd by and by Of poetis laureat of many dyuerse nacyons; Parte of there names I thynke to specefye: Fyrste, olde Quintiliane with his Declamacyons;[1567] Theocritus with his bucolycall relacyons; Esiodus, the iconomicar,[1568] And Homerus, the fresshe historiar; Prynce of eloquence, Tullius Cicero, 330 With Salusty[1569] ageinst Lucius Catelyne, That wrote the history of Iugurta also; Ouyde, enshryned with the Musis nyne; But blessed Bacchus, the pleasant god of wyne, Of closters engrosyd with his ruddy flotis[1570] These orators and poetes refresshed there throtis;