THE Sunne dooth beate vppon the playne fieldes, wherefore let vs sit downe Gallathea, vnder this faire Oake, by whose broade leaues, beeing defended from the warme beames, we may enioy the fresh ayre, which softly breathes from Humber floodes.

Father, you haue deuised well, and whilst our flocke doth roame vp and downe thys pleasant greene, you shall recount to mee, if it please you, for what cause thys Tree was dedicated vnto Neptune, and why you haue thus disguised me.

I doe agree thereto, and when thy state and my care be considered, thou shalt knowe thys question was not asked in vaine.

I willingly attend.

In tymes past, where thou seest a heape of small pyble, stoode a stately Temple of white Marble, which was dedicated to the God of the Sea, (and in right beeing so neere the Sea) hether came all such as eyther ventured by long trauell to see Countries, or by great traffique to vse merchandise, offering Sacrifice by fire, to gette safety by water; yeelding thanks for perrils past, & making prayers for good successe to come; but Fortune, constant in nothing but inconstancie, did change her copie, as the people their custome, for the Land being oppressed by Danes, who in steed of sacrifice, committed sacrilidge, in steede of religion, rebellion, and made a pray of that in which they should haue made theyr prayers, tearing downe the Temple euen with the earth, being almost equall with the skyes, enraged so the God who bindes the windes in the hollowes of the earth, that he caused the Seas to breake their bounds, sith men had broke their vowes, and to swell as farre aboue theyr reach, as men had swarued beyond theyr reason: then might you see shippes sayle where sheepe fedde, ankers cast where ploughes goe, fishermen throw theyr nets, where husbandmen sowe theyr Corne, and fishes throw their scales where fowles doe breede theyr quils: then might you gather froth where nowe is dewe, rotten weedes for sweete roses, & take viewe of monstrous Maremaides, insteed of passing faire Maydes.

To heare these sweete maruailes, I would mine eyes were turned also into eares.

But at the last, our Country-men repenting, and not too late, because at last, Neptune either wearie of his wroth, or warie to doe them wrong, vpon condition consented to ease theyr miseries.

What condition will not miserable men accept?

The condition was this, that at euery fiue yeeres day, the fairest and chastest virgine in all the Countrey, should be brought vnto this Tree, & heere beeing bound, (whom neither parentage shall excuse for honour, nor vertue for entegrity) is left for a peace offering vnto Neptune.

Deere is the peace that is bought with guiltlesse blood.

I am not able to say that, but hee sendeth a Monster called the Agar, against whose comming the waters rore, the fowles flie away, and the Cattell in the field for terror, shunne the bankes.

And she bound to endure that horror?

And she bound to endure that horror.

Doth thys Monster deuoure her?

Whether she be deuoured of him, or conueied to Neptune, or drowned between both, it is not permitted to knowe, and encurreth danger to coniecture; Now Gallathea heere endeth my tale, & beginneth thy tragedie.

Alas father, and why so?

I would thou hadst beene lesse faire, or more fortunate, then shouldest thou not repine that I haue disguised thee in this attyre, for thy beautie will make thee to be thought worthy of this God; to auoide therfore desteny (for wisedome ruleth the stars) I thinke it better to vse an vnlawfull meanes (your honour preserued) then intollerable greefe, both life and honor hazarded, and to preuent (if it be possible) thy constellation by my craft. Now hast thou heard the custome of this Countrey, the cause why thys Tree was dedicated vnto Neptune, and the vexing care of thy fearefull Father.

Father, I haue beene attentiue to heare, and by your patience am ready to aunswer. Destenie may be deferred, not preuented; and therefore it were better to offer my selfe in tryumph, then to be drawne to it with dishonour. Hath nature (as you say) made mee so faire aboue all, and shall not vertue make mee as famous as others? Doe you not knowe, (or dooth ouercarefulnes make you forget) that an honorable death is to be preferred before an infamous life. I am but a child, and haue not liued long, and yet not so childish, as I desire to liue euer: vertues I meane to carry to my graue, not gray haires. I woulde I were as sure that destiny would light on me, as I am resolued it could not feare me. Nature hath giuē me beauty, Vertue courage, Nature must yeeld mee death, Vertue honor. Suffer mee therefore to die, for which I was borne, or let me curse that I was borne, sith I may not die for it.

Alas Gallathea, to consider the causes of change, thou art too young, and that I should find them out for thee, too too fortunate.

The destenie to me cannot be so hard as the disguising hatefull.

To gaine loue, the Gods haue taken shapes of beastes, and to saue life art thou coy to take the attire of men?

They were beastly gods, that lust could make them seeme as beastes.

In health it is easie to counsell the sicke, but it's hard for the sicke to followe wholesome counsaile. Well let vs depart, the day is farre spent.

Faire Nimphe, are you strayed from your companie by chaunce, or loue you to wander solitarily on purpose?

Faire boy, or god, or what euer you bee, I would you knew these woods are to me so wel known, that I cannot stray though I would, and my minde so free, that to be melancholy I haue no cause. There is none of Dianaes trayne that any can traine, either out of their waie, or out of their wits.

What is that Diana a goddesse? what her Nimphes virgins? what her pastimes hunting?

A goddesse? who knowes it not? Virgins? who thinkes it not? Hunting? who loues it not?

I pray thee sweete wench, amongst all your sweete troope, is there not one that followeth the sweetest thing. Sweete loue?

Loue good sir, what meane you by it? or what doe you call it?

A heate full of coldnesse, a sweet full of bitternesse, a paine ful of pleasantnesse, which maketh thoughts haue eyes, and harts eares, bred by desire, nursed by delight, weaned by ielousie, kild by dissembling, buried by ingratitude, and this is loue, fayre Lady wil you any?

If it be nothing els, it is but a foolish thing.

Try, and you shall find it a prettie thing.

I haue neither will nor leysure, but I will followe Diana in the Chace, whose virgins are all chast, delighting in the bowe that wounds the swift Hart in the Forrest, not fearing the bowe that strikes the softe hart in the Chamber. This difference is betweene my Mistris Diana, and your Mother (as I gesse) Venus, that all her Nimphes are amiable and wise in theyr kinde, the other amorous and too kinde for their sexe; and so farewell little god.

Diana, and thou, and all thine, shall knowe that Cupid is a great god, I will practise a while in these woodes, and play such pranckes with these Nimphes, that while they ayme to hit others with their Arrowes, they shall be wounded themselues with their owne eyes.

BLush Gallathea that must frame thy affection fitte for thy habite, and therefore be thought immodest, because thou art vnfortunate. Thy tender yeeres cannot dissemble this deceipt: nor thy sexe beare it. O woulde the gods had made mee as I seeme to be, or that I might safelie be what I seeme not. Thy Father doteth Gallathea, whose blind loue corrupteth his fonde iudgement, and iealous of thy death, seemeth to dote on thy beauty, whose fonde care carrieth his parciall eye as farre from trueth, as his hart is frō falshood. But why doost thou blame him or blab what thou art, when thou shouldest onelie counterfet what thou art not. But whist, heere commeth a ladde: I will learne of him how to behaue my selfe.

I neither like my gate, nor my garments, the one vntoward, the other vnfit, both vnseemely. O Phillida, but yonder staieth one, and therefore say nothing. But ô Phillida.

I perceiue that boyes are in as great disliking of themselues as maides, therefore though I weare the apparell, I am glad I am not the person.

It is a pretty boy and a faire, hee might well haue beene a woman, but because he is not, I am glad I am, for nowe vnder the color of my coate, I shall decipher the follies of their kind.

I would salute him, but I feare I should make a curtsie in steed of a legge.

If I durst trust my face as well as I doe my habite, I would spend some time to make pastime, for saie what they will of a mans wit, it is no seconde thing to be a woman.

All the blood in my bodie would be in my face, if he should aske me (as the question among men is common) are you a maide?

Why stande I still, boyes shoulde be bolde, but heere commeth a braue traine that will spill all our talke.

God speede faire boy.

You are deceiued Ladie.

Why, are you no boy?

No faire boy.

But I see an vnhappie boy.

Saw you not the Deare come this waie, hee flewe downe the winde, & I beleeue you haue blancht him.

Whose Deare was it Ladie?

Dianaes Deare.

I saw none but mine owne Deare.

This wagge is wanton or a foole, aske the other, Diana.

I knowe not howe it commeth to passe, but yonder boy is in mine eye too beautifull, I pray gods the Ladies thinke him not their Deare.

Prettie lad, doe your sheepe feede in the Forrest, or are you straied from you flocke, or on purpose come ye to marre Dianaes pastime?

I vnderstand not one word you speake.

VVhat art thou neither Ladde nor sheepehearde?

My mother said I could be no ladde til I was twentie yeere olde, nor keepe sheepe till I coulde tell them; and therefore Ladie neither lad nor sheephearde is heere.

These boyes are both agreed, either they are verie pleasant or too peruerse: you were best Ladie make them tuske these VVoodes, whilst wee stande with our bowes, and so vse them as Beagles since they haue so good mouthes.

I wil. Follow me without delaie, or excuse, & if you can doe nothing, yet shall you hallow the Deare.

You sir boy shall also goe.

I must if you commaunde, and would if you had not. Exeunt.

Nowe Cupid, vnder the shape of a sillie girle shewe the power of a mightie God. Let Diana and all her coy Nimphes know, that there is no hart so chaste but thy bowe can wounde, nor eyes so modest, but thy brandes can kindle, nor thoughts so staied, but thy shafts can make wauering, weake and wanton: Cupid though he be a child, is no babie. I will make their paines my pastimes, & so confound their loues in their owne sexe, that they shall dote in their desires, delight in their affections, and practise onely impossibilities. Whilst I trewant from my mother, I will vse some tyranny in these woodes, and so shall their exercise in foolish loue, be my excuse for running away. I wil see whither faire faces be alwaies chast, or Dianaes virgins onelie modest, els will I spende both my shafts and shyfts, and then Ladies if you see these daintie Dames intrapt in loue, saie softlie to your selues, wee may all loue.

Doe sillie Sheepeheards goe about to deceiue great Neptune, in putting on mans attire vppon women: and Cupid to make sport deceiue them all, by vsing a vvomans apparell vpon a God, then Neptune that hast taken sundrie shapes to obtaine loue, stick not to practise some deceipt to shew thy deitie, and hauing oftē thrust thy self into the shape of beastes to deceiue men be not coy to vse the shape of a Sheepehearde, to shew thy selfe a God. Neptune cannot be ouer-reached by Swaines, himselfe is subtile, and if Diana be ouertaken by craft, Cupid is wise. I will into these woodes and marke all, and in the end will marre all. Exit.

Call you this seeking of fortunes when one can finde nothing but byrds nestes? would I were out of these VVoodes, for I shall haue but wodden lucke, heers nothing but the skreeking of Owles, croking of Frogs, hissing of Adders, barking of Foxes, walking of Hagges. But what be these?

I will follow them, to hell I shall not goe, for so faire faces neuer can haue such hard fortunes. What blacke boy is this.

What a life doe I leade with my Maister nothing but blowing of bellows, beating of spirits, & scraping of Croslets? it is a very secrete Science, for none almost can vnderstand the language of it. Sublimation, Almigation, Calcination, Rubification, Encorporation, Circination, Sementation, Albification, and Frementation. With as many termes vnpossible to be vttered, as the Arte to be compassed.

Let me crosse my selfe, I neuer heard so many great deuils in a little Monkies mouth.

Then our instruments, Croslets, Subliuatories, Cucurbits, Limbecks, Decensores, Violes, manuall and murall, for enbibing and conbibing, Bellowes, molificatiue and enduratiue.

What language is this? doe they speake so?

My haire beginneth to stande vpright, would the boy would make an end.

And yet such a beggerly Science it is, and so strong on multiplication, that the ende is to haue neyther gold, wit, nor honestie.

Then am I iust of thy occupation. What fellow, well met.

Felow, vpon what acquaintance?

Why thou saist, the end of thy occupation is to haue neither wit, money, nor honestie: & me thinks at a blush, thou shouldest be one of my occupation.

Thou art deceiued, my Master is an Alcumist.

Whats that, a man?

A little more then a man, and a hayres bredth lesse then a God. He can make of thy cap gold, and by multiplication of one grote, three old Angels. I haue knowne him of the tagge of a poynt, to make a siluer boole of a pint.

That makes thee haue neuer a point, they be al turned to pots: but if he can doe thys, he shall be a god altogether.

Yf thou haue any gold to worke on, thou art then made for euer: for with one pound of golde, hee will goe neere to paue tenne Akers of ground.

Howe might a man serue him and learne hys cunning?

Easilie. First seeme to vnderstand the termes, and speciallie marke these points. In our Arte there are foure Spirits.

Thou art grosse; we call those Spirits that are the grounds of our Arte, & as it were the mettles more incorporatiue for domination. The first Spirit is Quick-siluer.

That is my Spirit, for my siluer is so quicke; that I haue much a doe to catch it, and when I haue it, it is so nimble that I cannot holde it; I thought there was a deuill in it.

The second, Orpyment.

Thats no Spirit, but a worde to coniure a Spirit.

The third, Sal Armoniack.

A propper word.

The fourth, Brimstone.

Thats a stincking Spirit, I thought there was some spirit in it because it burnt so blew. For my Mother would often tell mee that when the candle burnt blew, there was some ill Spirit in the house, and now I perceiue it was the spirit Brimstone.

Thou cast remember these foure spirits.

Let me alone to coniure them.

Now are there also seauen bodies, but heere commeth my Maister.

This is a begger.

No, such cunning men must disguise themselues, as though there were nothing in them for otherwise they shall be compelled to worke for Princes, and so be constrained to bewray their secrets.

I like not his attire, but am enamored of hys Arte.

An ounce of Siluer limde, as much of crude Mercury, of Spirits foure, beeing tempered with the bodies seauen, by multiplying of it ten times, comes for one pound, eyght thousand pounds, so that I may haue onely Beechen coales.

Is it possible?

It is more certaine then certainty.

Ile tell thee one secrete, I stole a siluer thimble; dost thou thinke that he will make it a pottle pot?

A pottle pot, nay I dare warrant it a whole Cupbord of plate: why of the quintessence of a leaden plummet, he hath framed xx, dozen of siluer Spoones. Looke howe hee studies, I durst venture my life hee is nowe casting about, howe of his breath hee may make golden braselets, for often-times of smoke hee hath made siluer drops.

What doe I heare?

Dydst thou neuer heare howe Iupiter came in a golden shower to Danae?

I remember that tale.

That shower did my Master make of a spoonefull of Tartar-alom, but with the fire of blood, & the corasiue of the ayre, he is able to make nothing infinit, but whist he espieth vs.

What Peter doe you loyter, knowing that euerie minute increaseth our Mine?

I was glad to take ayre, for the mettle came so fast, that I feared my face would haue beene turned to siluer.

But what stripling is this?

One that is desirous to learne your craft.

Craft sir boy, you must call it misterie.

All is one, a craftie misterie, and a mysticall craft.

Canst thou take paynes?

Infinite.

But thou must be sworne to be secret, and then I wyll entertaine thee.

O my childe, Gryphes make theyr nestes of gold though their coates are fethers, and we fether our nestes with Diamonds, though our garments be but frize. Yf thou knewest the secret of this Science, the cunning woulde make thee so proude that thou wouldest disdaine the outward pompe.

My Maister is so rauisht with his Arte, that we manie times goe supperlesse to bed, for he wil make gold of his breade, and such is the drouth of his desire, that we all wish our very guts were gold.

I haue good fortune to light vpon such a Maister.

When in the depth of my skill I determine to try the vttermost of mine Arte, I am disswaded by the gods, otherwise, I durst vndertake to make the fire as it flames, gold, the winde as it blowes, siluer, the water as it runnes, lead, the earth as it standes, yron, the skye, brasse, and mens thoughts, firme mettles.

I must blesse my selfe, and maruell at you.

Come in, and thou shalt see all. Exit.

I followe, I runne, I flye; they say my Father hath a golden thumbe, you shall see me haue a golden bodie. Exit.

I am glad of this, for now I shall haue leysure to runne away; such a bald Arte as neuer was, let him keepe his newe man, for he shall neuer see his olde againe; God shelde me from blowing gold to nothing, with a strong imagination to make nothing any thing.

Poore Phillida, curse the time of thy birth and rarenes of thy beautie, the vnaptnes of thy apparel, and the vntamednes of thy affections. Art thou no sooner in the habite of a boy, but thou must be enamored of a boy, what shalt thou doe when what best lyketh thee, most discontenteth thee? Goe into the Woods, watch the good times, his best moodes, and transgresse in loue a little of thy modestie, I will, I dare not, thou must, I cannot. Then pine in thine owne peeuishnes. I will not, I wil. Ah Phillida doe something, nay anie thing rather then liue thus. Well, what I will doe, my selfe knowes not, but what I ought I knowe too well, and so I goe resolute, eyther to bewray my loue, or suffer shame.

THis is the day wherein you must satis-fie Neptune and saue your selues, call together your fayre Daughters, and for a Sacrifice take the fayrest, for better it is to offer a Virgine then suffer ruine. If you think it against nature to sacrifice your children, thinke it also against sence to destroy your Countrey. If you imagine Neptune pittilesse to desire such a pray, confesse your selues peruerse to deserue such a punishment. You see this tree, this fatall Tree, whose leaues though they glister like golde, yet it threatneth to fayre virgins griefe. To this Tree must the beautifullest be bound do vntil the Monster Agar carry her awaie, and if the Monster come not, then assure your selues that the fairest is concealed, and then your countrey shall be destroyed, therefore consult with your selues, not as fathers of children, but as fauourers of your Countrey. Let Neptune haue his right if you will haue your quiet; thus haue I warned you to be carefull, and would wish you to be wise, knowing that who so hath the fairest daughter, hath the greatest fortune, in loosing one to saue all, and so I depart to provide ceremonies for the Sacrifice, and commaund you to bring the Sacrifice. Exit Augur.

They say Tyterus that you haue a faire daughter, if it be so, dissemble not, for you shall be a fortunate father. It is a thing holy to preserue ones Country, and honorable to be the cause.

In deede Melebeus I haue heard you boast that you had a faire daughter, then the which none was more beautiful. I hope you are not so careful of a child, that you will be carelesse of your Countrey, or adde so much to nature, that you will detract from wisedome.

I must confesse that I had a daughter, and I knowe you haue, but alas my Childes cradle was her graue, and her swath-clowte her winding sheete. I would she had liued til now, she should willingly haue died now; for what could haue happened to pore Melebeus more comfortable, then to bee the father of a fayre child and sweet Countrey.

O Mellebeus, dissemble you may with mē, deceiue the Gods you cannot, dyd not I see, (and very lately see) your daughter in your armes, when as you gaue her infinite kisses, with affection I feare mee more then fatherly. You haue conueyed her away, that you might cast vs all away, bereauing her the honour of her beauty, and vs the benefite, preferring a common inconuenience, before a priuate mischiefe.

It is a bad cloth Tyterus that will take no colour, and a simple Father that can vse no cunning, you make the people beleeue that you wish well, when you practise nothing but ill, wishing to be thought religious towards the Gods, when I knowe you deceitful towards men. You cannot ouer-reach me Tyterus, ouershoote your selfe you may. It is a wilie Mouse that will breede in the Cats eare, and hee must halt cunninglie, that will deceiue a Cripple. Did you euer see me kisse my Daughter? you are deceiued, it was my wife. And if you thought so young a peece vnfit for so old a person, and therefore imagined it to be my childe, not my spouse, you must knowe that siluer haires delight in golden lockes, and the olde fancies craue young Nurses, and frostie yeeres must bee thawed by youthfull fyers. But this matter set aside, you haue a faire daughter Tyterus, and it is pittie you are so fond a Father.

You are bothe eyther too fonde or too froward: for whilst you dispute to saue your Daughters, we neglect to preuent our destruction.

Come let vs away and seeke out a sacrifice. Wee must sift out their cunning, and let them shift for themselues.

Come Cupid to your taske. First you must vndoe all these Louers knots, because you tyed them.

If they be true loue knots, tis vnpossible to vnknit them, if false, I neuer tied them.

Make no excuse but to it.

Loue knots are tyde with eyes, and cannot be vndoone with hands, made fast with thoughts, and cannot be vnlosed with fingers, had Diana no taske to set Cupid to but things impossible, I wil to it.

Why how now? you tie the knots faster.

I cannot chuse, it goeth against my mind to make them loose.

Let me see, nowe tis vnpossible to be vndoone.

It is the true loue knotte of a womans hart, therefore cannot be vndoone.

That fals in sunder of it selfe.

It was made of a mans thought which will neuer hang together.

You haue vndoone that well.

I, because it was neuer tide well.

To the rest, for shee will giue you no rest. These two knots are finely vntide.

It was because I neuer tide them, the one was knit by Pluto, not Cupid, by money, not loue, the other by force, not faith, by appointment, not affection.

Why doe you lay that knot aside.

For death.

Why?

Because the knot was knit by faith, and must onely be vnknit of death.

Why laugh you?

Because it is the fairest and the falsest, doone with greatest arte and least trueth, with best collours, and worst conceits.

VVho tide it?

A mans tongue.

Why doe you put that in my bosome?

Because it is onely for a Womans bosome.

Why what is it?

A womans hart.

Let me alone I wil find him some-what to do.

Lady, can you for pittie see Cupid thus punished.

Why did Cupid punish vs without pittie?

Is loue a punishment?

It is no pastime.

O Venus, if thou sawest Cupid as a captiue, bound to obey that was wont to commaunde, fearing Ladies threates, that once pearced their harts, I cannot tell whether thou wouldest reuenge it for despight, or laugh at it for disport. The time may come Diana, and the time shall come, that thou that settest Cupid to vndoe knots, shall intreate Cupid to tye knots, and you Ladies that with solace haue behelde my paines, shall with sighes intreate my pittie.

Hee offereth to sleepe.

How now Cupid begin you to nod?

Come Cupid, Diana hath deuised newe labours for you that are God of loues, you shall weaue Samplers all night, and lackie after Diana all day. You shall shortlie shoote at beastes for men, because you haue made beastes of men, & waight on Ladies traines, because thou intrappest Ladies by traines. All the stories that are in Dianaes Arras, which are of loue, you must picke out with your needle, & in that place sowe Vesta with her Nuns, and Diana with her Nimphes. How like you this Cupid.

I say I will pricke as well with my needle, as euer I did with mine arrowes.

Diana cannot yeelde, she conquers affection.

Diana shall yeeld, she cannot conquer desteny.

You shall find me so busie in your heads, that you shall wish I had beene idle with your harts.

Thys day is the solemne Sacrifice at thys Tree, wherein the fairest virgine (were not the inhabitants faithlesse) should be offered vnto me, but so ouer carefull are Fathers to their children, that they forgette the safetie of their Countrey, & fearing to become vnnaturall, become vnreasonable; their slights may bleere men, deceiue me they cannot, I wil be here at the houre, and shew as great crueltie as they haue doone craft, & well shall they know that Neptune should haue beene intreated, not cosened. Exit.

I maruell what virgine the people will prepresent, it is happy you are none, for thē it would haue falne to your lot because you are so faire.

If you had beene a Maiden too I neede not to haue feared, because you are fairer.

I pray thee sweete boy flatter not me, speake trueth of thy selfe, for in mine eye of all the world thou art fayrest.

These be faire words, but farre from thy true thoughts, I know mine owne face in a true Glasse, and desire not to see it in a flattering mouth.

O would I did flatter thee, and that fortune would not flatter me. I loue thee as a brother, but loue not me so.

Noe I will not, but loue thee better, because I cannot loue as a brother.

Seeing we are both boyes, and both louers, that our affection may haue some showe, and seeme as it were loue, let me call thee Mistris.

I accept that name, for diuers before haue cald me Mistris.

For what cause?

Nay there lie the Mistrisse.

Wyll not you be at the sacrifice?

Noe.

Why?

Because I dreamt that if I were there, I shold be turned to a virgine, and then being so faire (as thou saist I am) I shoulde be offered as thou knowest one must. But will not you be there.

Not vnlesse I were sure that a boy might be sacrificed, and not a mayden.

Why then you are in danger.

But I would escape it by deceite, but seeing we are resolued to be both absent, let vs wander into these Groues, till the howre be past.

I am agreed, for then my feare wil be past.

Why, what doost thou feare?

Nothing but that you loue me not. Exit.

I will. Poore Phillida, what shouldest thou thinke of thy selfe, that louest one that I feare mee, is as thy selfe is; and may it not be, that her Father practized the same deceite with her, that my Father hath with me, and knowing her to be fayre, feared she shold be vnfortunate, if it be so, Phillida how desperate is thy case? if it be not, howe doubtfull? For if she be a Mayden there is no hope of my loue, if a boy, a hazarde: I will after him or her, and leade a melancholie life, that looke for a miserable death.