caused me to feele, and it seeming to me that my grieefe was without remedie, if he were once seene or knowen of the ladies in that court (more beautifull and gracious then my selfe), by occasion whereof, as also by absence (a capitall enemie to love) I might easily be forgotten, I determined to adventure that, which I think never any woman imagined; which was to apparell my selfe in the habit of a man, and to hye me to the court to see him, in whose sight al my hope and content remained. Which determination I no sooner thought of then I put in practise, love blinding my eies and minde with an inconsiderate regarde of mine owne estate and condition. To the execution of which attempt I wanted no ijadustrie; for, being furnished with the helpe of one of my approoved friends, and treasouresse of my secrets, who bought me such apparell as I willed her, and a good horse for my journey, I went not onely out of my countrie, but out of my deere reputation, which (I thinke) I shall never recover againe; and so trotted directly to the court, passing by the way many accidents, which (if time would give me leave to tell them) would not make you laugh a little to heare them. Twenty daies I was in going thither, at the ende of which, being come to the desired place, I took up mine inne in a streete less frequented with concurse of people: and the great desire I had to see the destroier of my joy did not suffer me to thinke of any other thing, but how or where I might see him. To inquire of him of mine host I durst not, lest my comming might (perhaps) have bene discovered; and to seeke him foorth I thought it not best, lest some inopinate mishap might have fallen out, whereby I might have bene knowen. Wherefore I passed all that day in these perplexities, while night came on, each hower whereof (me thought) was a whole yeere unto me. But midnight being a little past, mine host called at my chamber doore, and told me if I was desirous to heare some brave musicke, I should arise quickly, and open a window towards the street. The which I did by and by, and making no noise at all, I heard how Don Felix his page, called Fabius (whom 1 knew by his voice) saide to others that came with him, Now it is time, my masters, bicause the lady is in her gallerie over her garden, taking the fresh aire of the coole night. He had no sooner saide so, but they began to winde three cornets and a sackbot, with such skill and sweetenesse, that it seemed celestiall musicke; and then began a voice to sing, the sweetest (in my opinion) that ever I heard. And though I was in suspence, by hearing Fabius speake, whereby a thousand doubtes and imaginations (repugnant to my rest) occurred in my minde, yet I neglected not to heare what was sung, bicause their operations were not of such force that they were able to hinder the desire, nor distemper the delight that I conceived by hearing it. That therefore which was sung were these verses:—
Sweete mistresse, harken unto me, (If it greeves thee to see me die)
And hearing, though it greeveth thee, To heare me yet do not denie.
O grant me then this short content, For forc'd I am to thee to flie.
My sighes do not make thee relent, Nor teares thy hart do mollifie.
Nothing of mine doth give thee payne, Nor thou think'st of no remedie:
Mistresse, how long shall I sustaine Such ill as still thou dost applie ?
In death there is no helpe, be sure, But in thy will, where it doth lie;
For all those illes which death doth cure, Alas ! they are but light to trie:
My troubles do not trouble thee, Nor hope to touch thy soule so nie :
O! from a will that is so free,
What should I hope when I do crie I
How can I mollifie that brave And stony hart of pittie drie ?
Yet mistresse, turne those eies (that have No peeres) shining like stars in skie;
But turne them not in angrie sort,
If thou wilt not kill me thereby:
Tho' yet, in anger or in sport,
Thou killest onHv with thine eie.
After they had first, with a concert of musicke, sung this song, two plaied, the one upon a lute, the other upon a silver sounding harpe, being