The Works of Christopher Marlowe, Vol. 3 (of 3). Christopher Marlowe

him from her unjustly did detain.

      Like as the sun in a diameter

      Fires and inflames objects removèd far,

      And heateth kindly, shining laterally;

      So beauty sweetly quickens when 'tis nigh,

      But being separated and removed,

      Burns where it cherished, murders where it loved.

      Therefore even as an index to a book,

      So to his mind was young Leander's look.

      O, none but gods have power31 their love to hide!

      Affection by the countenance is descried;

      The light of hidden fire itself discovers,

      And love that is concealed betrays poor lovers.

      His secret flame apparently was seen:

      Leander's father knew where he had been,

      And for the same mildly rebuk'd his son,

      Thinking to quench the sparkles new-begun.

      But love, resisted once, grows passionate,

      And nothing more than counsel lovers hate;

      For as a hot proud horse highly disdains

      To have his head controlled, but breaks the reins,

      Spits forth the ringled32 bit, and with his hoves

      Checks the submissive ground; so he that loves,

      The more he is restrain'd, the worse he fares:

      What is it now but mad Leander dares?

      "O Hero, Hero!" thus he cried full oft;

      And then he got him to a rock aloft,

      Where having spied her tower, long star'd he on't,

      And pray'd the narrow toiling Hellespont

      To part in twain, that he might come and go;

      But still the rising billows answer'd, "No."

      With that, he stripp'd him to the ivory skin,

      And, crying, "Love, I come," leap'd lively in:

      Whereat the sapphire-visaged god grew proud,

      And made his capering Triton sound aloud,

      Imagining that Ganymede, displeas'd,

      Had left the heavens; therefore on him he seiz'd.

      Leander strived; the waves about him wound,

      And pull'd him to the bottom, where the ground

      Was strewed with pearl, and in low coral groves

      Sweet-singing mermaids sported with 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, called 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 clapped his plump cheeks, with his tresses played,

      And, smiling wantonly, his love bewrayed;

      He watched 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-fair33 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-staring34 Fauns

      Would steal him thence. Ere half this tale was done,

      "Ay me," Leander cried, "th' enamoured 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 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.

      (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;

      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,

31

Some eds. give "O, none have power but gods."

32

"In ages and countries where mechanical ingenuity has but few outlets it exhausts itself in the constructions of bits, each more peculiar in form or more torturing in effect than that which has preceded it. I have seen collections of these instruments of torments, and among them some of which Marlowe's curious adjective would have been highly descriptive. It may be, however, that the word is 'ring-led,' in which shape it would mean guided by the ring on each side like a snaffle."—Cunningham.

33

Some eds. give "so faire and kind." Cf. Othello, iv. 2—

"O thou windWho art so lovely-fair and smell'st so sweet."

34

Ed. 1613 and later eds. "upstarting."