Hero and Leander

Hero and Leander. By Christopher Marlowe.

London, printed by Adam Islip, for Edward Blount. 1598.

To the Right Worshipful Sir Thomas Walsingham,  Knight.

Sir, we think not ourselves discharged of the duty we owe to our friend when we have brought the breathless body to the earth; for, albeit the eye there taketh his ever-farewell of that beloved object, yet the impression of the man that hath been dear unto us, living an after-life in our memory, there putteth us in mind of farther obsequies due unto the deceased; and namely of the performance of whatsoever we may judge shall make to his living credit and to the effecting of his determinations prevented by the stroke of death. By these meditations (as by an intellectual will) I suppose myself executor to the unhappily deceased author of this poem; upon whom knowing that in his lifetime you bestowed many kind favours, entertaining the parts of reckoning and worth which you found in him with good countenance and liberal affection, I cannot but see so far into the will of him dead, that whatsoever issue of his brain should chance to come abroad, that the first breath it should take might be the gentle air of your liking; for, since his self had been accustomed thereunto, it would prove more agreeable and thriving to his right children than any other foster countenance whatsoever. At this time seeing that this unfinished tragedy happens under my hands to be imprinted, of a double duty, the one to yourself, the other to the deceased, I present the same to your most favourable allowance, offering my utmost self now and ever to be ready at your worship’s disposing.

Edward Blount.

Hero and Leander.

In Hellespont, guilty of true love’s blood,
In view and opposite two cities stood,
Sea-borderers, disjoin’d by Neptune’s might;
The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight.
5 At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair,
Whom young Apollo courted for her hair,
And offer’d as a dower his burning throne,
Where she should sit, for men to gaze upon.
The outside of her garments were of lawn,
10 The lining purple silk, with gilt stars drawn;
Her wide sleeves green, and border’d with a grove,
Where Venus in her naked glory strove
To please the careless and disdainful eyes
Of proud Adonis, that before her lies;
15 Her kirtle blue, whereon was many a stain,
Made with the blood of wretched lovers slain.
Upon her head she ware a myrtle wreath, 
From whence her veil reach’d to the ground beneath:
Her veil was artificial flowers and leaves,
20 Whose workmanship both man and beast deceives:
Many would praise the sweet smell as she past,
When ’twas the odour which her breath forth cast;
And there for honey bees have sought in vain,
And, beat from thence, have lighted there again.
25 About her neck hung chains of pebble-stone,
Which, lighten’d by her neck, like diamonds shone.
She ware no gloves; for neither sun nor wind
Would burn or parch her hands, but, to her mind,
Or warm or cool them, for they took delight
30 To play upon those hands, they were so white.
Buskins of shell, all silver’d, used she,
And branch’d with blushing coral to the knee;
Where sparrows perch’d, of hollow pearl and gold,
Such as the world would wonder to behold:
35 Those with sweet water oft her handmaid fills,
Which, as she went, would cherup through the bills.
Some say, for her the fairest Cupid pin’d,
And, looking in her face, was strooken blind.
But this is true; so like was one the other,
40 As he imagin’d Hero was his mother;
And oftentimes into her bosom flew,
About her naked neck his bare arms threw,
And laid his childish head upon her breast,
And, with still panting rock, there took his rest.
45 So lovely-fair was Hero, Venus’ nun,
As Nature wept, thinking she was undone,
Because she took more from her than she left,
And of such wondrous beauty her bereft:
Therefore, in sign her treasure suffer’d wrack,
50 Since Hero’s time hath half the world been black.
Amorous Leander, beautiful and young,
(Whose tragedy divine Musæus sung),
Dwelt at Abydos; since him dwelt there none
For whom succeeding times make greater moan.
55 His dangling tresses, that were never shorn,
Had they been cut, and unto Colchos borne,
Would have allur’d the venturous youth of Greece
To hazard more than for the golden fleece.
Fair Cynthia wish’d his arms might be her sphere;
60 Grief makes her pale, because she moves not there.
His body was as straight as Circe’s wand;
Jove might have sipped out nectar from his hand. 
Even as delicious meat is to the taste,
So was his neck in touching, and surpast
65 The white of Pelops’ shoulder : I could tell ye,
How smooth his breast was, and how white his belly;
And whose immortal fingers did imprint
That heavenly path with many a curious dint
That runs along his back; but my rude pen
70 Can hardly blazon forth the loves of men,
Much less of powerful gods: let it suffice
That my slack Muse sings of Leander’s eyes;
Those orient cheeks and lips, exceeding his
That leapt into the water for a kiss
75 Of his own shadow, and, despising many,
Died ere he could enjoy the love of any.
Had wild Hippolytus Leander seen,
Enamour’d of his beauty had he been:
His presence made the rudest peasant melt,
80 That in the vast uplandish country dwelt;
The barbarous Thracian soldier, mov’d with nought,
Was mov’d with him, and for his favour sought.
Some swore he was a maid in man’s attire,
For in his looks were all that men desire,
85 A pleasant-smiling cheek, a speaking eye,
A brow for love to banquet royally;
And such as knew he was a man, would say,
“Leander, thou art made for amorous play:
Why art thou not in love, and lov’d of all?
90 Though thou be fair, yet be not thine own thrall”.

The men of wealthy Sestos every year,
For his sake whom their goddess held so dear,
Rose-cheek’d Adonis, kept a solemn feast:
Thither resorted many a wandering guest
95 To meet their loves: such as had none at all,
Came lovers home from this great festival;
For every street, like to a firmament,
Glister’d with breathing stars, who, where they went,
Frighted the melancholy earth, which deem’d
100 Eternal heaven to burn, for so it seem’d,
As if another Phaëton had got
The guidance of the sun’s rich chariot.
But, far above the loveliest, Hero shin’d,
And stole away th’ enchanted gazer’s mind;
105 For like sea nymphs’ inveigling harmony,
So was her beauty to the standers by;
Nor that night-wandering, pale, and watery star
(When yawning dragons draw her thirling  car
From Latmus’ mount up to the gloomy sky,
110 Where, crown’d with blazing light and majesty,
She proudly sits) more over-rules the flood
Than she the hearts of those that near her stood.
Even as when gaudy nymphs pursue the chase,
Wretched Ixion’s shaggy-footed race, 
115 Incens’d with savage heat, gallop amain
From steep pine-bearing mountains to the plain,
So ran the people forth to gaze upon her,
And all that view’d her were enamour’d on her:
And as in fury of a dreadful fight,
120 Their fellows being slain or put to flight,
Poor soldiers stand with fear of death dead-strooken,
So at her presence all surpris’d and tooken,
Await the sentence of her scornful eyes;
He whom she favours lives; the other dies:
125 There might you see one sigh; another rage;
And some, their violent passions to assuage
Compile sharp satires; but, alas, too late!
For faithful love will never turn to hate;
And many, seeing great princes were denied,
130 Pin’d as they went, and thinking on her died.
On this feast-day, O cursed day and hour!
Went Hero thorough Sestos, from her tower
To Venus’ temple, where unhappily,
As after chanc’d, they did each other spy.
135 So fair a church as this had Venus none:
The walls were of discolour’d jasper-stone,
Wherein was Proteus carv’d; and over-head
A lively vine of green sea-agate spread,
Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung,
140 And with the other wine from grapes out-wrung.
Of crystal shining fair the pavement was;
The town of Sestos call’d it Venus’ glass:
There might you see the gods, in sundry shapes,
Committing heady riots, incest, rapes;
145 For know, that underneath this radiant flour
Was Danäe’s statue in a brazen tower;
Jove slily stealing from his sister’s bed,
To dally with Idalian  Ganymed,
And for his love Europa bellowing loud,
150 And tumbling with the rainbow in a cloud;
Blood-quaffing Mars heaving the iron net
Which limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set;
Love kindling fire, to burn such towns as Troy;
Silvanus weeping for the lovely boy
155 That now is turn’d into a cypress-tree,
Under whose shade the wood-gods love to be.
And in the midst a silver altar stood:
There Hero, sacrificing turtle’s blood,
Vail’d to the ground, veiling her eyelids close;
160 And modestly they open’d as she rose:
Thence flew Love’s arrow with the golden head;
And thus Leander was enamoured.
Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gaz’d,
Till with the fire, that from his countenance blaz’d,
165 Relenting Hero’s gentle heart was strook:
Such force and virtue hath an amorous look.

It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-rul’d by fate.
When two are stripp’d long ere the course begin,
170 We wish that one should lose, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows; let it suffice,
What we behold is censur’d by our eyes.
175 Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever lov’d, that lov’d not at first sight?

He kneel’d; but unto her devoutly pray’d:
Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said,
“Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him”;
180 And, as she spake those words, came somewhat near him.
He started up; she blush’d as one asham’d;
Wherewith Leander much more was inflam’d.
He touch’d her hand; in touching it she trembled:
Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
185 These lovers parlèd by the touch of hands:
True love is mute, and oft amazed stands.
Thus while dumb signs their yielding hearts entangled,
The air with sparks of living fire was spangled;
And Night, deep-drench’d in misty Acheron,
190 Heav’d up her head, and half the world upon
Breath’d darkness forth (dark night is Cupid’s day):
And now begins Leander to display
Love’s holy fire, with words, with sighs, and tears;
Which, like sweet music, enter’d Hero’s ears;
195 And yet at every word she turn’d aside,
And always cut him off, as he replied.
At last, like to a bold sharp sophister,
With cheerful hope thus he accosted her.
“Fair creature, let me speak without offence:
200 I would my rude words had the influence
To lead thy thoughts as thy fair looks do mine!
Then shouldst thou be his prisoner, who is thine.
Be not unkind and fair; mis-shapen stuff
Are of behaviour boisterous and rough.
205 O, shun me not, but hear me ere you go!
God knows, I cannot force love as you do:
My words shall be as spotless as my youth,
Full of simplicity and naked truth.
This sacrifice, whose sweet perfume descending
210 From Venus’ altar, to your footsteps bending,
Doth testify that you exceed her far,
To whom you offer, and whose nun you are.
Why should you worship her? her you surpass
As much as sparkling diamonds flaring glass.
215 A diamond set in lead his worth retains;
A heavenly nymph, belov’d of human swains,
Receives no blemish, but oft-times more grace;
Which makes me hope, although I am but base,
Base in respect of thee divine and pure,
220 Dutiful service may thy love procure;
And I in duty will excel all other,
As thou in beauty dost exceed Love’s mother.
Nor heaven nor thou were made to gaze upon:
As heaven preserves all things, so save thou one.
225 A stately builded ship, well rigg’d and tall,
The ocean maketh more majestical:
Why vow’st thou, then, to live in Sestos here,
Who on Love’s seas more glorious wouldst appear?
Like untun’d golden strings all women are,
230 Which long time lie untouch’d, will harshly jar.
Vessels of brass, oft handed, brightly shine:
What difference betwixt the richest mine
And basest mould, but use? for both, not us’d,
Are of like worth. Then treasure is abus’d,
235 When misers keep it: being put to loan,
In time it will return us two for one.
Rich robes themselves and others do adorn;
Neither themselves nor others, if not worn.
Who builds a palace, and rams up the gate,
240 Shall see it ruinous and desolate:
Ah, simple Hero, learn thyself to cherish!
Lone women, like to empty houses, perish.
Less sins the poor rich man, that starves himself
In heaping up a mass of drossy pelf,
245 Than such as you: his golden earth remains,
Which, after his decease, some other gains;
But this fair gem, sweet in the loss alone,
When you fleet hence, can be bequeath’d to none;
Or, if it could, down from th’ enamell’d sky
250 All heaven would come to claim this legacy,
And with intestine broils the world destroy,
And quite confound Nature’s sweet harmony.
Well therefore by the gods decreed it is,
We human creatures should enjoy that bliss.
255 One is no number; maids are nothing, then,
Without the sweet society of men.
Wilt thou live single still? one shalt thou be,
Though never singling Hymen couple thee.
Wild savages, that drink of running springs,
260 Think water far excels all earthly things;
But they, that daily taste neat wine, despise it:
Virginity, albeit some highly prize it,
Compar’d with marriage, had you tried them both,
Differs as much as wine and water doth.
265 Base bullion for the stamp’s sake we allow:
Even so for men’s impression do we you;
By which alone, our reverend fathers say,
Women receive perfection every way.
This idol, which you term virginity,
270 Is neither essence subject to the eye,
No, nor to any one exterior sense,
Nor hath it any place of residence,
Nor is’t of earth or mould celestial,
Or capable of any form at all.
275 Of that which hath no being, do not boast:
Things that are not at all, are never lost.
Men foolishly do call it virtuous:
What virtue is it, that is born with us?
Much less can honour be ascrib’d thereto:
280 Honour is purchas’d by the deeds we do
Believe me, Hero, honour is not won,
Until some honourable deed be done.
Seek you, for chastity, immortal fame,
And know that some have wrong’d Diana’s name?
285 Whose name is it, if she be false or not,
So she be fair, but some vile tongues will blot?
But you are fair, ay me! so wondrous fair,
So young, so gentle, and so debonair,
As Greece will think, if thus you live alone,
290 Some one or other keeps you as his own.
Then, Hero, hate me not, nor from me fly,
To follow swiftly blasting infamy.
Perhaps thy sacred priesthood makes thee loath:
Tell me, to whom mad’st thou that heedless oath?”.
295 “To Venus”, answer’d she; and, as she spake,
Forth from those two tralucent cisterns brake
A stream of liquid pearl, which down her face
Made milk-white paths, whereon the gods might trace
To Jove’s high court. He thus replied: “The rites
300 In which love’s beauteous empress most delights,
Are banquets, Doric  music, midnight revel,
Plays, masks, and all that stern age counteth evil.
Thee as a holy idiot doth she scorn;
For thou, in vowing chastity, hast sworn
305 To rob her name and honour, and thereby
Committ’st a sin far worse than perjury,
Even sacrilege against her deity,
Through regular and formal purity.
To expiate which sin, kiss and shake hands:
310 Such sacrifice as this Venus demands”.
Thereat she smil’d, and did deny him so,
As put thereby, yet might he hope for mo’;
Which makes him quickly reinforce his speech,
And her in humble manner thus beseech:
315 “Though neither gods nor men may thee deserve,
Yet for her sake, whom you have vow’d to serve,
Abandon fruitless cold virginity.
The gentle queen of love’s sole enemy.
Then shall you most resemble Venus’ nun,
320 When Venus’ sweet rites are perform’d and done.
Flint breasted Pallas joys in single life;
But Pallas and your mistress are at strife.
Love, Hero, then, and be not tyrannous;
But heal the heart that thou hast wounded thus;
325 Nor stain thy youthful years with avarice:
Fair fools delight to be accounted nice.
The richest corn dies, if it be not reaped;
Beauty alone is lost, too warily kept”.
These arguments he us’d, and many more;
330 Wherewith she yielded, that was won before.
Hero’s looks yielded, but her words made war:
Women are won when they begin to jar.
Thus, having swallow’d Cupid’s golden hook,
The more she striv’d, the deeper was she strook:
335 Yet, evilly feigning anger, strove she still,
And would be thought to grant against her will.
So having paus’d a while, at last she said,
“Who taught thee rhetoric to deceive a maid?
Ay me! such words as these should I abhor,
340 And yet I like them for the orator”.
With that, Leander stoop’d to have embrac’d her,
But from his spreading arms away she cast her,
And thus bespake him: “Gentle youth, forbear
To touch the sacred garments which I wear.
345 Upon a rock, and underneath a hill,
Far from the town, (where all is whist and still,
Save that the sea, playing on yellow sand,
Sends forth a rattling murmur to the land,
Whose sound allures the golden Morpheus
350 In silence of the night to visit us),
My turret stands; and there, God knows, I play
With Venus’ swans and sparrows all the day.
A dwarfish beldam bears me company,
That hops about the chamber where I lie,
355 And spends the night, that might be better spent,
In vain discourse and apish merriment:
Come thither”. As she spake this, her tongue tripp’d,
For unawares, “Come thither”, from her slipp’d;
And suddenly her former colour chang’d,
360 And here and there her eyes through anger rang’d;
And, like a planet moving several ways
At one self instant, she, poor soul, assays,
Loving, not to love at all, and every part
Strove to resist the motions of her heart:
365 And hands so pure, so innocent, nay, such
As might have made Heaven stoop to have a touch,
Did she uphold to Venus, and again
Vow’d spotless chastity; but all in vain;
Cupid beats down her prayers with his wings;
370 Her vows about the empty air he flings:
All deep enrag’d, his sinewy bow he bent,
And shot a shaft that burning from him went;
Wherewith she strooken look’d so dolefully,
As made Love sigh to see his tyranny;
375 And, as she wept, her tears to pearl he turn’d,
And wound them on his arm, and for her mourn’d.
Then towards the palace of the Destinies,
Laden with languishment and grief, he flies,
And to those stern nymphs humbly made request,
380 Both might enjoy each other, and be blest.
But with a ghastly dreadful countenance,
Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance,
They answer’d Love, nor would vouchsafe so much
As one poor word, their hate to him was such:
385 Hearken a while,  and I will tell you why.

Heaven’s winged herald, Jove-born Mercury,
The self-same day that he asleep had laid
Enchanted Argus, spied a country maid,
Whose careless hair, instead of pearl t’adorn it,
390 Glister’d with dew, as one that seem’d to scorn it;
Her breath as fragrant as the morning rose;
Her mind pure, and her tongue untaught to glose:
Yet proud she was (for lofty Pride that dwells
In towered courts, is oft in shepherds’ cells),
395 And too-too well the fair vermilion knew
And silver tincture of her cheeks, that drew
The love of every swain. On her this god
Enamour’d was, and with his snaky rod
Did charm her nimble feet, and made her stay,
400 The while upon a hillock down he lay,
And sweetly on his pipe began to play,
And with smooth speech her fancy to assay,
Till in his twining arms her lock’d her fast,
And then he woo’d with kisses; and at last,
405 As shepherds do, her on the ground he laid,
And, tumbling in the grass, he often stray’d
Beyond the bounds of shame, in being bold
To eye those parts which no eye should behold;
And, like an insolent commanding lover,
410 Boasting his parentage, would needs discover
The way to new Elysium. But she,
Whose only dower was her chastity,
Having striven in vain, was now about to cry,
And crave the help of shepherds that were nigh.
415 Herewith he stay’d his fury, and began
To give her leave to rise: away she ran;
After went Mercury, who us’d such cunning,
As she, to hear his tale, left off her running;
(Maids are not won by brutish force and might
420 But speeches full of pleasure, and delight;)
And, knowing Hermes courted her, was glad
That she such loveliness and beauty had
As could provoke his liking; yet was mute,
And neither would deny nor grant his suit.
425 Still vow’d he love: she, wanting no excuse
To feed him with delays, as women use,
Or thirsting after immortality,
(All women are ambitious naturally),
Impos’d upon her lover such a task,
430 As he ought not perform, nor yet she ask;
A draught of flowing nectar she requested,
Wherewith the king of gods and men is feasted.
He, ready to accomplish what she will’d,
Stole some from Hebe (Hebe Jove’s cup fill’d),
435 And gave it to his simple rustic love:
Which being known (as what is hid from Jove?)
He inly storm’d, and wax’d more furious
Than for the fire filch’d by Prometheus;
And thrusts him down from heaven. He, wandering here,
440 In mournful terms, with sad and heavy cheer,
Complain’d to Cupid: Cupid, for his sake,
To be reveng’d on Jove did undertake;
And those on whom heaven, earth, and hell relies,
I mean the adamantine Destinies,
445 He wounds with love, and forc’d them equally
To dote upon deceitful Mercury.
They offer’d him the deadly fatal knife
That shears the slender threads of human life;
At his fair feather’d feet the engines laid,
450 Which th’ earth from ugly Chaos’ den upweigh’d.
These he regarded not; but did entreat
That Jove, usurper of his father’s seat,
Might presently be banish’d into hell,
And aged Saturn in Olympus dwell.
455 They granted what he crav’d; and once again
Saturn and Ops began their golden reign:
Murder, rape, war, and lust, and treachery,
Were with Jove clos’d in Stygian empery.
But long this blessed time continu’d not:
460 As soon as he his wished purpose got,
He, reckless of his promise, did despise
The love of th’ everlasting Destinies.
They, seeing it, both Love and him abhorr’d,
And Jupiter unto his place restor’d:
465 And, but that learning, in despite of Fate,
Will amount aloft, and enter heaven-gate,
And to the seat of Jove itself advance,
Hermes had slept in hell with Ignorance.
Yet, as a punishment, they added this,
470 That he and Poverty should always kiss
And to this day is every scholar poor:
Gross gold from them runs headlong to the boor.
Likewise the angry sisters, thus deluded,
To venge themselves on Hermes, have concluded
475 That Midas’ brood shall sit in Honour’s chair,
To which the Muses’ sons are only heir;
And fruitful wits, that inaspiring are,
Shall discontent run into regions far;
And few great lords in virtuous deeds shall joy
480 But be surpris’d with every garish toy,
And still enrich the lofty servile clown,
Who with encroaching guile keeps learning down.
Then muse not Cupid’s suit no better sped,
Seeing in their loves the Fates were injured.

485 By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted,
Viewing Leander’s face, fell down and fainted.
He kiss’d her, and breath’d life into her lips;
Wherewith, as one displeas’d, away she trips;
Yet, as she went, full often look’d behind,
490 And many poor excuses did she find
To linger by the way, and once she stay’d,
And would have turn’d again, but was afraid,
In offering parley, to be counted light:
So on she goes, and, in her idle flight,
495 Her painted fan of curled plumes let fall,
Thinking to train Leander therewithal.
He, being a novice, knew not what she meant,
But stay’d, and after her a letter sent;
Which joyful Hero answer’d in such sort,
500 As he had hoped to scale the beauteous fort
Wherein the liberal Graces lock’d their wealth;
And therefore to her tower he got by stealth.
Wide-open stood the door; he need not climb;
And she herself, before the pointed time,
505 Had spread the board, with roses strew’d the room,
And oft look’d out, and mus’d he did not come.
At last he came: O, who can tell the greeting
These greedy lovers had at their first meeting?
He ask’d; she gave; and nothing was denied;
510 Both to each other quickly were affied:
Look how their hands, so were their hearts united,
And what he did, she willingly requited.
(Sweet are the kisses, the embracements sweet,
When like desires and like affections meet;
515 For from the earth to heaven is Cupid rais’d,
Where fancy is in equal balance pais’d).
Yet she this rashness suddenly repented,
And turn’d aside, and to herself lamented,
As if her name and honour had been wrong’d,
520 By being possess’d of him for whom she long’d;
Ay, and she wish’d, albeit not from her heart,
That he would leave her turret and depart.
The mirthful god of amorous pleasure smil’d
To see how he this captive nymph beguil’d;
525 For hitherto he did but fan the fire,
And kept it down, that it might mount the higher.
Now wax’d she jealous lest his love abated,
Fearing her own thoughts made her to be hated.
Therefore unto him hastily she goes,
530 And, like light Salmacis, her body throws
Upon his bosom, where with yielding eyes
She offers up herself a sacrifice
To slake his anger, if he were displeas’d:
O, what god would not therewith be appeas’d?
535 Like Aesop’s cock,  this jewel he enjoy’d,
And as a brother with his sister toy’d,
Supposing nothing else was to be done,
Now he her favour and goodwill had won.
But know you not that creatures wanting sense,
540 By nature have a mutual appetence,
And, wanting organs to advance a step,
Mov’d by love’s force, unto each other leap?
Much more in subjects having intellect
Some hidden influence breeds like effect.
545 Albeit Leander, rude in love and raw,
Long dallying with Hero, nothing saw
That might delight him more, yet he suspected
Some amorous rites or other were neglected.
Therefore unto his body hers he clung:
550 She, fearing on the rushes to be flung,
Striv’d with redoubled strength; the more she striv’d,
The more a gentle pleasing heat reviv’d,
Which taught him all that elder lovers know;
And now the same gan so to scorch and glow,
555 As in plain terms, yet cunningly, he crave it:
Love always makes those eloquent that have it.
She, with a kind of granting, put him by it,
And ever, as he thought himself most nigh it,
Like to the tree of Tantalus, she fled,
560 And, seeming lavish, sav’d her maidenhead.
Ne’er king more sought to keep his diadem,
Than Hero this inestimable gem:
Above our life we love a steadfast friend;
Yet when a token of great worth we send,
565 We often kiss it, often look thereon,
And stay the messenger that would be gone;
No marvel, then, though Hero would not yield
So soon to part from that she dearly held:
Jewels being lost are found again; this never;
570 ’Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost for ever.

Now had the Morn espied her lover’s steeds;
Whereat she starts, puts on her purple weeds,
And, red for anger that he stay’d so long,
All headlong throws herself the clouds among.
575 And now Leander, fearing to be miss’d,
Embrac’d her suddenly, took leave, and kiss’d:
Long was he taking leave, and loath to go,
And kiss’d again, as lovers use to do.
Sad Hero wrung him by the hand, and wept,
580 Saying, “Let your vows and promises be kept”:
Then standing at the door, she turn’d about,
As loath to see Leander going out.
And now the sun, that through th’ horizon peeps,
As pitying these lovers, downward creeps;
585 So that in silence of the cloudy night,
Though it was morning, did he take his flight.
But what the secret trusty night conceal’d,
Leander’s amorous habit soon reveal’d:
With Cupid’s myrtle was his bonnet crown’d,
590 About his arms the purple riband wound,
Wherewith she wreath’d her largely-spreading hair;
Nor could the youth abstain, but he must wear
The sacred ring wherewith she was endow’d,
When first religious chastity she vow’d;
595 Which made his love through Sestos to be known,
And thence unto Abydos sooner blown
Than he could sail; for incorporeal Fame,
Whose weight consists in nothing but her name,
Is swifter than the wind, whose tardy plumes
600 Are reeking water and dull earthly fumes.

Home when he came, he seem’d not to be there,
But, like exiled air thrust from his sphere,
Set in a foreign place; and straight from thence,
Alcides-like, by mighty violence,
605 He would have chas’d away the swelling main,
That him from her unjustly did detain.
Like as the sun in a diameter
Fires and inflames objects removed far,
And heateth kindly, shining laterally;
610 So beauty sweetly quickens when ’tis nigh,
But being separated and remov’d,
Burns where it cherish’d, murders where it lov’d.
Therefore even as an index to a book,
So to his mind was young Leander’s look.
615 O, none but gods have power their love to hide!
Affection by the countenance is descried;
The light of hidden fire itself discovers,
And love that is conceal’d betrays poor lovers.
His secret flame apparently was seen:
620 Leander’s father knew where he had been,
And for the same mildly rebuk’d his son,
Thinking to quench the sparkles new-begun.
But love resisted once, grows passionate,
And nothing more than counsel lovers hate;
625 For as a hot proud horse highly disdains
To have his head controll’d, but breaks the reins,
Spits forth the ringled bit, and with his hooves
Checks the submissive ground; so he that loves,
The more he is restrain’d, the worse he fares:
630 What is it now but mad Leander dares?
“O Hero, Hero!” thus he cried full oft;
And then he got him to a rock aloft,
Where having spied her tower, long star’d he on’t,
And pray’d the narrow toiling Hellespont
635 To part in twain, that he might come and go;
But still the rising billows answer’d, “No”.
With that, he stripp’d him to the ivory skin,
And, crying, “Love, I come”, leap’d lively in:
Whereat  the sapphire-visag’d god grew proud,
640 And made his capering Triton sound aloud,
Imagining that Ganymede, displeas’d,
Had left the heavens; therefore on him he seiz’d.
Leander striv’d; the waves about him wound,
And pull’d him to the bottom, where the ground
645 Was strew’d with pearl, and in low coral groves
Sweet-singing mermaids sported with their loves
On heaps of heavy gold, and took great pleasure
To spurn in careless sort the shipwreck treasure;
For here the stately azure palace stood,
650 Where kingly Neptune and his train abode.
The lusty god embrac’d him, call’d him “love”,
And swore he never should return to Jove:
But when he knew it was not Ganymed,
For under water he was almost dead,
655 He heav’d him up, and, looking on his face,
Beat down the bold waves with his triple mace,
Which mounted up, intending to have kiss’d him.
And fell in drops like tears because they miss’d him.
Leander, being up, began to swim,
660 And, looking back, saw Neptune follow him:
Whereat aghast, the poor soul ’gan to cry,
“O, let me visit Hero ere I die!”
The god put Helle’s bracelet on his arm,
And swore the sea should never do him harm.
665 He clapp’d his plump cheeks, with his tresses play’d,
And, smiling wantonly, his love bewray’d;
He watch’d his arms, and, as they open’d wide
At every stroke, betwixt them would he slide,
And steal a kiss, and then run out and dance,
670 And, as he turn’d, cast many a lustful glance,
And throw him gaudy toys to please his eye,
And dive into the water, and there pry
Upon his breast, his thighs, and every limb,
And up again, and close beside him swim,
675 And talk of love. Leander made reply,
“You are deceiv’d; I am no woman, I”.
Thereat smil’d Neptune, and then told a tale,
How that a shepherd, sitting in a vale,
Play’d with a boy so lovely-fair and kind,
680 As for his love both earth and heaven pin’d;
That of the cooling river durst not drink,
Lest water-nymphs should pull him from the brink;
And when he sported in the fragrant lawns,
Goat-footed satyrs and up-staring fauns
685 Would steal him thence. Ere half this tale was done,
“Ay me”, Leander cried, “th’ enamour’d sun,
That now should shine on Thetis’ glassy bower,
Descends upon my radiant Hero’s tower:
O, that these tardy arms of mine were wings!”
690 And, as he spake, upon the waves he springs.
Neptune was angry that he gave no ear,
And in his heart revenging malice bare:
He flung at him his mace; but, as it went,
He call’d it in, for love made him repent:
695 The mace, returning back, his own hand hit,
As meaning to be veng’d for darting it.
When this fresh-bleeding wound Leander view’d,
His colour went and came, as if he ru’d
The grief which Neptune felt: in gentle breasts
700 Relenting thoughts, remorse, and pity rests;
And who have hard hearts and obdurate minds,
But vicious, hare-brain’d, and illiterate hinds?
The god, seeing him with pity to be mov’d,
Thereon concluded that he was belov’d;
705 (Love is too full of faith, too credulous,
With folly and false hope deluding us);
Wherefore, Leander’s fancy to surprise,
To the rich ocean for gifts he flies;
’Tis wisdom to give much; a gilt prevails
710 When deep-persuading oratory fails.

By this, Leander, being near the land,
Cast down his weary feet, and felt the sand.
Breathless albeit he were, he rested not
Till to the solitary tower he got;
715 And knock’d, and call’d: at which celestial noise
The longing heart of Hero much more joys,
Than nymphs and shepherds when the timbrel rings,
Or crooked dolphin when the sailor sings.
She stay’d not for her robes, but straight arose,
720 And, drunk with gladness, to the door she goes;
Where seeing a naked man, she screech’d for fear,
(Such sights as this to tender maids are rare),
And ran into the dark herself to hide
(Rich jewels in the dark are soonest spied).
725 Unto her was he led, or rather drawn
By those white limbs which sparkled through the lawn.
The nearer that he came, the more she fled,
And, seeking refuge, slipp’d into her bed;
Whereon Leander sitting, thus began,
730 Through numbing cold, all feeble, faint, and wan.
“If not for love, yet, love, for pity-sake,
Me in thy bed and maiden bosom take;
At least vouchsafe these arms some little room,
Who, hoping to embrace thee, cheerly swum:
735 This head was beat with many a churlish billow,
And therefore let it rest upon thy pillow”.
Herewith affrighted, Hero shrunk away,
And in her lukewarm place Leander lay;
Whose lively heat, like fire from heaven fet,
740 Would animate gross clay, and higher set
The drooping thoughts of base-declining souls,
Than dreary-Mars-carousing nectar bowls.
His hands he cast upon her like a snare:
She, overcome with shame and sallow fear,
745 Like chaste Diana when Actæon spied her,
Being suddenly betray’d, div’d down to hide her;
And, as her silver body downward went,
With both her hands she made the bed a tent,
And in her own mind thought herself secure,
750 O’ercast with dim and darksome coverture.
And now she lets him whisper in her ear,
Flatter, entreat, promise, protest, and swear:
Yet ever, as he greedily assay’d
To touch those dainties, she the harpy play’d,
755 And every limb did, as a soldier stout,
Defend the fort, and keep the foeman out;
For though the rising ivory mount he scal’d,
Which is with azure circling lines empal’d.
Much like a globe (a globe may I term this,
760 By which Love sails to regions full of bliss),
Yet there with Sisyphus he toil’d in vain,
Till gentle parley did the truce obtain.
Even as a bird, which in our hands we wring,
Forth plungeth, and oft flutters with her wing,
765 She trembling strove: this strife of hers, like that
Which made the world, another world begat
Of unknown joy. Treason was in her thought,
And cunningly to yield herself she sought.
Seeming not won, yet won she was at length:
770 In such wars women use but half their strength.
Leander now, like Theban Hercules,
Enter’d the orchard of th’ Hesperides;
Whose fruit none rightly can describe, but he
That pulls or shakes it from the golden tree. 
775 Wherein Leander, on her quivering breast,
Breathless spoke something, and sigh’d out the rest;
Which so prevail’d, as he, with small ado,
Enclos’d her in his arms, and kiss’d her too:
And every kiss to her was as a charm,
780 And to Leander as a fresh alarm:
So that the truce was broke, and she, alas,
Poor silly maiden, at his mercy was.
Love is not full of pity, as men say,
But deaf and cruel where he means to prey.

785 And now she wish’d this night were never done,
And sigh’d to think upon th’ approaching sun;
For much it griev’d her that the bright day-light
Should know the pleasure of this blessed night,
And them, like Mars and Erycine,  display
790 Both in each other’s arms chain’d as they lay.
Again, she knew not how to frame her look,
Or speak to him, who in a moment took
That which so long, so charily she kept;
And fain by stealth away she would have crept,
795 And to some corner secretly have gone,
Leaving Leander in the bed alone.
But as her naked feet were whipping out,
He on the sudden cling’d her so about,
That, mermaid-like, unto the floor she slid;
800 One half appear’d the other half was hid.
Thus near the bed she blushing stood upright,
And from her countenance behold ye might
A kind of twilight break, which through the air,
As from an orient cloud, glimps’d here and there;
805 And round about the chamber this false morn
Brought forth the day before the day was born.
So Hero’s ruddy cheek Hero betray’d,
And her all naked to his sight display’d:
Whence his admiring eyes more pleasure took
810 Than Dis, on heaps of gold fixing his look.
By this, Apollo’s golden harp began
To sound forth music to the ocean;
Which watchful Hesperus no sooner heard,
But he the bright Day-bearing car prepar’d,
815 And ran before, as harbinger of light,
And with his flaring beams mock’d ugly Night
Till she, o’ercome with anguish, shame, and rage,
Dang’d down to hell her loathsome carriage.

Desunt nonnulla.