I adore Melebæa, saith Love-sick Calisto, I believe in Melebæa, I honour, admire and love my Melebæa; His soul was soused, imparadised, imprisoned in his Lady. When Thais took her leave of Phædria,

—— mi Phædria, & nunquid aliud vis?

Sweet heart (she said) will you command me any further service? he readily replied, and gave this in charge;

—— egone quid velim? Dies noctesque ames me, me desideres, Me somnies, me expectes, me cogites, Me speres, me te oblectes, mecum tota sis, Meus fac postremo animus, quando ego sum tuus.

Dost ask (my dear) what service I will have? To love me day and night is all I crave, To dream on me, to expect, to think on me, Depend and hope, still covet me to see; Delight thy self in me, be wholly mine, For know my love, that I am wholly thine.

But all this needed not, you will say, if she affect once, she will be his, settle her love on him, on him alone,

—— illum absens absentem Auditque videtque ——

she can, she must think and dream of nought else but him, continually of him, as did Orpheus on his Euridice,

Te dulcis conjux, te solo in littore mecum, Te veniente die, te discedente canebam.

On thee sweet wife was all my song, Morn, Evening, and all along.

And Dido upon her Æneas;

—— & quæ me insomnia terrent, Multa viri virtus, & plurima currit Imago.

And ever and anon she thinks upon the man That was so fine, so fair, so blith, so debonair.

Clitophon in the first book of Achilles Tatius, complaineth how that his Mistress Leucippe tormented him much more in the night, then in the day. For all day long he had some object or other to distract his senses, but in the night all ran upon her: All night long he lay awake and could think of nothing else but her, he could not get her out of his mind, towards morning sleep took a little pity on him, he slumbred a while, but all his dreams were of her.

—— te nocte sub atrâ Alloquor, amplector, falsaque in imagine somni, Gaudia solicitam palpant evanida mentem.

In the dark night I speak, embrace and finde, That fading joys deceive my careful mind.

The same complaint Eurialus makes to his Lucretia, day and night I think of thee, I wish for thee, I talk of thee, call on thee, look for thee, hope for thee, delight my self in thee, day and night I love thee.

Nec mihi vespere Surgente decedunt amores, Nec rapidum fugiente solem;

Morning, Evening, all is alike with me, I have restless thoughts,

Te vigilans oculis, animo te nocte requiro.

Still I think on thee. Anima non est ubi animat, sed ubi amat; I live and breath in thee, I wish for thee.

O niveam quæ te poterit mihi reddere lucem, O mihi felicem terque quaterque diem.

O happy day that shall restore thee to my sight. In the mean time he raves on her; her sweet face, eys, actions, gestures, hands, feet, speech, length, bredth, height, depth, and the rest of her dimensions, are so survaied, measured, and taken, by that Astrolabe of phantasie, and that so violently sometimes, with such earnestness and eagerness, such continuance, so strong an imagination, that at length he thinks he sees her indeed; he talks with her, he imbraceth her, Ixion-like pro Junone nubem, a cloud for Juno, as he said. Nihil præter Leucippen cerno, Leucippe mihi perpetuò in oculis, & animo versatur, I see and meditate of naught but Leucippe. Be she present or absent, all is one;

Et quamvis aberat placidæ præsentia formæ, Quem dederat præsens forma, manebat amor.

That impression of her beauty is still fixed in his mind

—— hærent infixi pectore vultus.

as he that is bitten with a mad dog, thinks all he sees dogs, dogs in his meat, dogs in his dish, dogs in his drink: his mistress is in his eys, ears, heart, in all his senses. Valleriola had a merchant his patient in the same predicament: and Ulricus Molitor out of Austin, hath a story of one, that through vehemency of his love passion, still thought he saw his Mistress present with him, she talked with him, Et commisceri cum eâ vigilans videbatur, still embracing him.

Now if this passion of love can produce such effects, if it be pleasantly intended, what bitter torments shall it breed, when it is with fear and continual sorrow, suspicion, care, agony, as commonly it is, still accompanied, what an intolerable pain must it be?

—— Non tam grandes Gargara culmos, quot demerso Pectore curas longâ nexas Usque catenâ, vel quæ penitùs Crudelis amor vulnera miscet.

Mount Gargarus hath not so many stems, As Lovers breast hath grievous wounds, And linked cares, which love compounds.

When the King of Babylon would have punished a Courtier of his, for loving of a yong Lady of the royal blood, and far above his fortunes, Apollonius in presence, by all means perswaded to let him alone; For to love and not enjoy was a most unspeakable torment, no tyrant could invent the like punishment; as a gnat at a candle, in a short space he would consume himself.

For Love is a perpetual flux, Angor animi, a warfare, militat omni amans; a grievous wound is love still, and a Lovers heart is Cupids quiver, a consuming fire, accede ad hanc ignem, &c. an inextinguible fire.

—— alitur & crescit malum, Et ardet intus, qualis Ætnæo vapor Exundat antro ——

As Ætna rageth, so doth Love, and more then Ætna or any material fire.

—— Nam amor sæpe Lyparæo Vulcano ardentiorem flammam incendere solet.

Vulcans flames are but smoak to this; For fire, saith Xenophon, burns them alone that stand neer it, or touch it; but this fire of Love burneth and scorcheth afar off, and is more hot and vehement then any material fire; Ignis in igne furit, ’tis a fire in a fire, the quintessence of fire. For when Nero burnt Rome, as Calisto urgeth, he fired houses, consumed mens bodies and goods; but this fire devours the soul it self, and one soul is worth 100000 bodies. No water can quench this wild fire.

—— In pectus cæcos absorbuit ignes, Ignes qui nec aqua perimi potuere, nec imbre Diminui, neque graminibus, magicisque susurris.

A fire he took into his brest, Which water could not quench, Nor herb, nor art, nor Magick spells Could quell, nor any drench.

Except it be tears and sighs, for so they may chance find a little ease.

Sic candentia colla, sic patens frons, Sic me blanda tui Neæra ocelli, Sic pares minio genæ perurunt, Ut ni me lachrymæ rigent perennes, Totus in tenues eam favillas.

So thy white neck Neæra me poor soul Doth scorch, thy cheeks, thy wanton eys that roul: Were it not for my dropping tears that hinder, I should be quite burnt up forthwith to cinder.

This fire strikes like lightning, which made those old Græcians paint Cupid in many of their Temples with Jupiters thunder-bolts in his hands; for it wounds, and cannot be perceived how, whence it came, where it pierced,

Urimur, & cæcum pectora vulnus habent,

And can hardly be discerned at first.

Est mollis flamma medullas, Et tacitum insano vivit sub pectore vulnus.

A gentle wound, an easie fire it was And slie at first, and secretly did pass.

But by and by it began to rage and burn a main;

—— Pectus insanum vapor, Amorque torret, intus sævus vorat Penitus medullas, atque per venas meat Visceribus ignis mersus, & venis latens, Ut agilis altas flamma percurrit trabes.

This fiery vapour rageth in the veins, And scorcheth entrals, as when fire burns An house, it nimbly runs along the beams, And at the last the whole it overturns.

Abraham Hoffemannus lib. 1. amor. conjugal. cap. 2. pag. 22. relates out of Plato, how that Empedocles the Philosopher was present at the cutting up of one that died for love, his heart was combust, his liver smoakie, his lungs dried up, and so much that he verily believed his soul was either sod or rosted, through the vehemency of loves fire. Which belike made a modern writer of amorous Emblems, express Loves fury by a pot hanging over the fire, and Cupid blowing the coals. As the heat consumes the water,

Sic sua consumit viscera cæcus amor,

So doth Love dry up his radical moisture. Another compares Love to a melting torch, which stood too neer the fire.

Sic quo quis propior suæ puellæ est, Hoc stultus propior suæ ruinæ est.