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Una nox Jovis sceptro æquiparanda,
Such a nights lodging is worth Jupiters Scepter,
Qualis nox erit illa, dii, deæque, Quam mollis thorus?
O What a blissful night would it be, how soft, how sweet a bed? She will adventure all her estate for such a night, for a Nectarean, a balsome kiss alone.
Qui te videt beatus est, Beatior qui te audiet, Qui te potitur est Deus.
The Sultan of Sana’s wife in Arabia, when she had seen Vertomannus that comely traveller, lamented to herself in this manner, O God, thou hast made this man whiter then the Sun, but me, mine husband, and all my children black: I would to God he were my husband, or that I had such a son, she fell a weeping, and so impatient for love at last, that (as Potiphars wife did by Joseph) she would have had him gone in with her, she sent away Gazella, Tegeia, Galzerana her waiting maids, loaded him with fair promises and gifts, and wooed him with all the Rhetorick she could,
—— extremum hoc miseræ da munus amanti.
But when he gave not consent, she would have gone with him, and left all, to be his page, his servant, or his Lackey, Certa sequi charum corpus ut umbra solet, so that she might enjoy him, threatning moreover, to kill her self, &c. Men will do as much and more for women, spend goods, lands, lives, fortunes; Kings will leave their Crowns, as King John for Matilda the Nun at Dunmow.
But Kings in this get privileg’d may be, Ile be a Monk so I may live with thee.
The very Gods will endure any shame (atque aliquis de diis non tristibus inquit, &c.) be a spectacle as Mars and Venus were to all the rest; so did Lucians Mercury wish, and peradventure so dost thou. They will adventure their lives with alacrity.
nay more, pro quâ non metuam bis mori, I will dye twice, nay twenty times for her. If she die, theres no remedy, they must die with her, they cannot help it. A Lover in Calcagninus, wrote this on his darlings Tomb,
Quincia obiit, sed non Quincia sola obiit, Quincia obiit, sed cum Quincia & ipse obii; Risus obit, obit gratia, lusus obit, Nec mea nunc anima in pectore, at in tumulo est.
Quincia my dear is dead, but not alone, For I am dead, and with her I am gone: Sweet smiles, mirth, graces, all with her do rest, And my soul too, for ’tis not in my brest.
How many doting Lovers upon the like occasion might say the same? But these are toys in respect; they will hazard their very souls for their mistress sake.
Atque aliquis inter juvenes miratus est, & verbum dixit, Non ego in cælo cuperem Deus esse, Nostram uxorem habens domi Hero.
One said, to Heaven would I not desire at all to go, If that at mine own house I had such a fine wife as Hero.
Venus forsook Heaven for Adonis sake ———cælo præfertur Adonis.
Old Januarye in Chaucer thought when he had his fair May, he should never go to heaven, he should live so merrily here on earth; had I such a mistress, he protests,
Cælum diis ego non suum inviderem, Sed sortem mihi dii meam inviderent.
I would not envy their prosperity, The Gods should envy my felicity.
Another as earnestly desires to behold his sweet-heart, he will adventure and leave all this, and more then this to see her alone.
Omnia quæ patior mala si pensare velit fors, Unâ aliqua nobis prosperitate, dii Hoc precor, ut faciant, faciant me cernere coram, Cor mihi captivum quæ tenet hocce, deam.
If all my mischiefs were recompenced, And God would give me what I requested, I would my mistress presence only seek, Which doth mine heart in prison captive keep.
But who can reckon up the dotage, madness, servitude and blindness, the foolish phantasms and vanities of Lovers, their torments, wishes, idle attempts?
Yet for all this, amongst so many irksome, absurd, troublesome symptoms, inconveniences, phantastical fits and passions which are usually incident to such persons, there be some good and graceful qualities in Lovers, which this affection causeth. As it makes wise men fools, so many times it makes fools become wise; it makes base fellows become generous, cowards couragious, as Cardan notes out of Plutarch; covetous, liberal and magnificent; clowns, civil; cruel, gentle; wicked prophane persons, to become religious; slovens, neat; churls, merciful; and dumb dogs, eloquent: your lazie drones, quick and nimble; Feras mentes domat cupido, that fierce, cruel and rude Cyclops Polyphemus sighed, and shed many a salt tear for Galatea’s sake.
No passion causeth greater alterations, or more vehement of joy or discontent. Plutarch. Sympos. lib.5. quæst.1. saith, that the soul of a man in love is full of perfumes and sweet odours, & all manner of pleasing tones and tunes, insomuch that it is hard to say (as he adds) whether love do mortal men more harm then good. It adds spirits, and makes them otherwise soft and silly, generous and couragious,
Ariadne’s love made Theseus so adventurous, and Medea’s beauty Jason so victorious; expectorat amor timorem. Plato is of opinion, that the love of Venus made Mars so valorous. A yong man will be much abashed to commit any foul offence that shall come to the hearing or sight of his Mistress.
As he that desired of his enemy now dying, to lay him with his face upward, ne amasius videret eum à tergo vulneratum, least his sweet-heart should say he was a coward.
And if it were possible to have an Army consist of Lovers, such as love, or are beloved, they would be extraordinary valiant and wise in their government, modesty would detain them from doing amiss, emulation incite them to do that which is good and honest, and a few of them would overcome a great company of others.
There is no man so pusillanimous, so very a dastard, whom love would not incense, make of a divine temper, and an heroical spirit. As he said in like case, Tota ruat cæli moles, non terreor, &c. Nothing can terrifie, nothing can dismay them, But as Sir Blandimor and Paridel those two brave Fayrie Knights, fought for the love of fair Florimel in presence——
And drawing both their swords with rage anew, Like two mad Mastives each other slew, And shields did share, and males did rash, and helms did hew; So furiously each other did assail, As if their souls at once they would have rent, Out of their breasts, that streams of blood did rail Adown as if their springs of life were spent, That all the ground with purple blood was sprent, And all their armour stain’d with bloody gore, Yet scarcely once to breath would they relent: So mortal was their malice and so sore, That both resolved (then yield) to dye before.
Every base swain in love will dare to do as much for his dear mistress sake. He will fight and fetch Argivum Clypeum, that famous buckler of Argos, to do her service, adventure at all, undertake any enterprise. And as Serranus the Spaniard then Governor of Sluce, made answer to Marquess Spinola, if the enemy brought 50000 divels against him he would keep it.
The nine worthies, Oliver and Rowland, and forty dozen of peers are all in him, he is all mettle, armor of proof, more then a man, and in this case improved beyond himself. For as Agatho contends, a true Lover is wise, just, temperate and valiant.
I doubt not therefore, but if a man had such an Army of Lovers (as Castilio supposeth) he might soon conquer all the world, except by chance he met with such another Army of Inamorato’s to oppose it. For so perhaps they might fight as that fatal Dog, and fatal Hare in the heavens, course one another round, and never make an end.
Castilio thinks Ferdinand King of Spain would never have conquered Granado, had not Queen Isabell and her Ladies been present at the siege; It cannot be expressed what courage the Spanish Knights took, when the Ladies were present, a few Spaniards overcame a multitude of Moors.