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,?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,?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,?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.?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,?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,?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,?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?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!"?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:?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?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;?(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?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;?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,?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).?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, slipt into her bed;?Whereon Leander sitting, thus began,?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 swoom:?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,?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,?Like chaste Diana when Act?on 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,?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,?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,?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
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