Christopher Marlowe

“ Sea-borderers, disjoin'd by Neptune's might:
The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight.
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 was of lawn,
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 ”

“ And crave the help of shepherds that were nigh.
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,
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.
Still vow'd he love ”

“ Fair Cynthia wish'd his arms might be her sphere;
Grief makes her pale, because she moves not there.
His body was as straight as Circe's wand;
Jove might have sipp'd out nectar from his hand.
Even as delicious meat is to the taste,
So was his neck in touching, and surpass'd
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
Can hardly blazon forth the loves of men ”

“ 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,
Which the earth from ugly Chaos' den upweigh'd:
These he regarded not; but did intreat
That Jove, usurper of his father's seat,
Might presently be banish'd into Hell,
And aged Saturn in Olympus dwell,
They granted what he crav'd; and once again
Saturn and Ops began their golden reign. ”

“ 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
In which Love's beauteous empress most delights,
Are banquets, Doric music, midnight revel,
Plays, masks, and all that stern age counteth evil. ”

“ As but [2] thereby, yet might he hope for mo;
Which makes him quickly reinforce his speech,
And her in humble manner thus beseech:
"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. ”