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Through heavy stroke of Britomartis' hand,
Which when his mother dear did understand,
And heavy tidings heard, whereas she play'd
Amongst her watry sisters by a pond,
Gathering sweet daffadillies to have made [shade;
Gay garlands, from the sun their foreheads fair to

Efiscons both flowers and garlands far away
She flung, and her fair dewy locks yrent,
To sorrow huge she turn'd her former play,
And gamesome mirth to grievous dreriment:
She threw herself down on the continent,
Nor word did speak, but lay as in a swoune,
While all her sisters did for her lament,
With yelling outcries, and with shrieking sowne;
And every one did tear her garland from her crown.

Soon as she up out of her deadly fit
Arose, she bade her chariot to be brought,
And all her sisters, that with her did sit,
Bade eke at once their chariots to be sought;
Then, full of bitter grief and pensive thought,
She to her waggon clombe; clombe all the rest,
And forth together went, with sorrow fraught.
The waves, obedient to their behest, [ceas'd.
Them yielded ready passage, and their rage sur-

Great Neptune stood amazed at their sight,
While on his broad round back they softly slid,
And eke himself mourn’d at their mournful plight;
Yet wist not what their wailing meant, yet did
For great compassion of their sorrow bid
His mighty waters to them buxom be:
Eftsoons the roaring billows still abid,
And all the grizly monsters of the sea [see.
Stood gaping at their gate, and wondered them to

A team of dolphins ranged in array,
Drew the smooth chariot of Cymoent;
They were all taught by Triton, to obey
To the long trains, at her commandement:
As swift as swallows on the waves they went,
That their broad flaggy fins no foam did rear,
Nor bubbling roundell they behind them sent;
The rest, of other fishes drawen were, [shear.
Which with their finny oars the swelling sea did

Soon as they been arriv'd upon the brim
Of the rich strond, their chariots they forlore,
And let their teamed fishes softly swim
Along the margin of the foamy shore,
Least they their fins should bruise, and surbate sore
Their tender feet upon the stony ground;
And coming to the place, where all in gore
And cruddy blood enwallowed they found
The luckless Marinell lying in deadly swound;

His mother swooned thrice, and the third time
Could scarce recovered be out of her pain;
Had she not been devoid of mortal slime,
She should not then have been reliev'd again:
But soon as life recovered had the reign,
She made so piteous moan, and dear wayment,

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It fortuned, fair Venus having lost
Her little son, the winged god of love,
Who for some light displeasure which him crost,
Was from her fled as flit as airy dove,
And left her blissful bower of joy above,
(So from her often he had fled away,
When she for ought him sharply did reprove,
And wandered in the world in strange array,
Disguis'd in thousand shapes that none might him
[betray.)
Him for to seek, she left her heavenly house
(The house of goodly forms and fair aspects,
Whence all the world derives the glorious
Features of beauties, and all shapes select, -
With which high God his workmanship hath deck d)
And searched every way, through which his wing"

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