The Works of Christopher Marlowe, Vol. 3 | Page 9

flung at him his mace; but, as
it went,
He call'd it in, for love made him repent: 210 The mace,
returning back, his own hand hit,
As meaning to be venged for
darting it.
When this fresh-bleeding wound Leander viewed,
His
colour went and came, as if he rued
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-brained, and
illiterate hinds?
The god, seeing him with pity to be moved,

Thereon concluded that he was beloved. 220 (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 gift 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; 230 And knocked and called: at which
celestial noise
The longing heart of Hero much more joys,
Than
nymphs and shepherds when the timbrel rings,
Or crookèd dolphin
when the sailor sings.
She stayed not for her robes, but straight arose,

And, drunk with gladness, to the door she goes;
Where seeing a
naked man, she screeched 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). 240 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: 250
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,[35]
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[36] fear, 260 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,
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, 270 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[37] as a bird, which in our hands we wring,

Forth plungeth, and oft flutters with her wing, 280 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:
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. 290 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,
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. 300 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 blessèd night,
And them, like Mars
and Erycine, display[38]
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, 310 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;

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,[39]
As from an orient cloud, glimps'd[40] here and
there; 320 And round about the chamber this false morn
Brought

forth the day before the day was born.
So Hero's ruddy cheek Hero