Early Modern Mythological Texts: Troia Britanica II (51-100)
Thomas Heywood. Troia Britanica (1609)
CANTO II (51-100)
Stanzas 51-60 — 61-70 — 71-80 — 81-90 — 91-100 — Heywood’s Endnotes to Canto II
Back to Stanzas 1-50
Ed. Janice VALLS-RUSSELL
“Be it”, quoth he, “the fortunes of this day,
Be it myself, my self, sweet saint, am thine,
Be it this kingdom, and this sceptre’s sway,
Behold, my interest I will back resign.
We have no power to say such beauty nay,
Being but mortal, and that face divine.
What’s your demand, sweet saint?” “It is”, quoth she,
“That I a consecrated maid may be.”
52
O, had she asked more gold than would have filled
Her father’s palace, packed up to the roof,
Or in her sad boon had the lady willed
Of his resolvèd spirit to see large proof,
Monsters he would have tamed, and giants killed,
And from no stern adventure kept aloof,
In hope to have won her love; but being thus coy,
This one request doth all his hopes destroy.
The prince is bound by oath to grant her pleasure,
Yet from her will he seeks her to dissuade.
“Hoard not”, quoth he, “unto yourself such treasure,
Nor let so sweet a flower ungathered vade.
Nature herself hath took from you fit measure
To have more beauteous creatures by you made.
Then crop this flower before the prime be past,
Lose not the mould that may such fair ones cast.
54
Let not a cloister such rare beauty smother.
Y’are Nature’s masterpiece, made to be seen.
Sweet, you were born that you should bear another,
A princess, and descended from a queen,
That you of queens and princes might be mother.
Had she that bare you still a virgin been,
You had not been at all. Mankind should fade,
If every female lived a spotless maid.
55
You ask what you by no means can defend,
In seeking a strict cloister to enjoy,
Ye wish to see the long-lived world at end,
And in your heart you mankind would destroy,
For when these lives no further can extend,
How shall we people th’earth? Who shall employ
The crowns we win, the wealth for which we strive?
When dead ourselves, we leave none to survive.
You might as well kill children as to hold
This dangerous error. Nay, I’ll prove it true:
For infant souls, that should have been enrolled
In Heaven’s predestined book, begot of you,
Are by your strangeness to oblivion sold.
You might as well your hands in blood imbrue,
Nay, better too, for when young infants die,
Their angel souls live in eternity.
57
And so the Heavens make up their numbers full.
You, lady, Heaven and earth’s right disallow.
What gods conclude, shall mortals disannul?
So many as you might have had ere now,
So many angels from Heaven’s throne you pull,
From earth, so many princes by your vow.
Now could I get a son. But you, being coy,
Fair murderess that you are, have killed the boy.”
Much more, but all in vain, the amorous youth
Thinks in his smooth, sweet language to dissuade her,
But nothing that he pleads she holds for truth.
Though by all gentle means he sought to have stayed her,
She urgeth still his oath. He thinks it ruth
To have such beauty cloistered, and had made her
Virginity for Venus’ sweets to have changed,
Had not his oath that purpose soon estranged.
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Now fair Callisto by Jove’s grant is free To be admitted one of Dian’s train, Dian’, a huntress; the broad shadowy tree The house, beneath who[se] roof she doth remain, Ven’son her food, and honey from the bee, The flesh of elks, of bears, and boars new slain, Her drink the pearlèd brook, her followers, maids, Her vow, chaste life, her cloister, the cool shades. |
Diana |
Her weapons are the javelin and the bow,
Her garments, angel-like, of virgin-white,
And tucked aloft; her falling skirt below
Her buskin meets, buckled with silver bright;
Her hair behind her like a cloak doth flow,
Some tucked in rolls, some loose with flowers bedight.
Her silken veils play round about her slack,
Her golden quiver falls athwart her back.
She was the daughter of an ancient king
Called Jupiter, that swayed the Attic sceptre.
To her as suitors many princes bring
Their crowns, which, scorning, she a virgin kept her.
Yet, as her beauty’s fame abroad doth ring,
Her suitors multiply. Therefore she stepped her
Into the forest, meaning to exempt her
From such as to their amorous wills would tempt her.
62
This new religion, famous in a queen
Of such estate and beauty, drew from far
Daughters of princes; they that late were seen
In courts of kings, now Dian’s followers are,
Where they no sooner sworn and entered been
But against men and love they proclaim war.
Many frequent the groves, by Dian’s motion,
For fashion some, and some too for devotion.
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The old Plateenses, holding her divine, Gave her the sacred name of Euclia. Their maids, ere married, offered at her shrine, And then they freely choosed their marriage day. Without her leave, they never tasted wine, Or durst in public with their husbands play. Whole Asia joined to make a church of stone, Built by the architector Chersiphrone. |
Plutarch in Aristides
The temple of Diana at Ephesus |
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To this th’Egyptian high pyramides, Nor the great Jovial portrait could compare, Mausolus’ tomb the Manes to appease, Reared by the Carian queen, but trifles are; The huge colossus that bestrid the seas And made Rhodes famous for a work so rare, Great Babel’s tower nor Pharos’ stately isle Could rank with this, for cost, or height of style. |
The 7 Wonders |
Two hundred twenty years it was in framing,
In length four hundred five and twenty feet,
In breadth two hundred twenty. Thus proclaiming
Their fear of her, they chaste Diana greet,
Of all fair Damsels her the goddess naming;
And to her service, in her temple meet,
A fabric famous, both for height and length,
Proportion, beauty, workmanship and strength.
A hundred seven and twenty columns great,
All of white marble, in fair order stand:
Six hundred feet in height, both huge and neat.
The like were never wrought by mortal hand.
Princes of sundry kingdoms that entreat
Her divine grace, and yield to her command,
Each one, a high and stately pillar brings,
Full thirty-six, reared by so many kings.
All these contend, which should the rest exceed
In large expense, to make it more admired,
Herostratus that never did glad deed,
Neither with wit, nor gracious thewes inspired,
Knowing no means his own renown to breed,
In devilish spleen, this royal wonder fired;
The purpose why he did this deed of shame
Was that the world should chronicle his name.
68
This when despoilèd Ephesus once knew,
They made a law, with fine to him that brake it:
To make him lose the fame he did pursue,
His very name was death to him that spake it.
For many years it died, but times renew
And from oblivious, dusky caves awake it,
Else had their silence from these ages kept,
This strange report, that long amongst them slept.
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The world, the very day it lost the grace Of this rare work, another wonder bred, Greater than this, from royal Philip’s race, That then took life, when this in fire lay dead: In Macedon, a much-renownèd place, Young Alexander in that temple’s stead Entered the world, whose glories did aspire About this structure, then consumed with fire. |
Plutarch in vita Alexandri |
Now is Callisto one of Dian’s train,
And to th’Arcadian forest newly flitted,
Her beauty can scarce equalled be again
’Mongst all the huntresses where she’s admitted.
Mean time Jove cheers his friends; inters the slain,
And all this business is by order fitted,
The state established, time in triumph spent
And news of all, by posts to Epire sent.
His great affairs determined, the prince now
Hath leisure to bethink him of that face,
To which his future actions he doth vow.
Now he remembers each particular grace,
That Love that makes the idle spirits bow,
Still gives occasions way, and business place:
Abandon sloth, and Cupid’s bow unbends,
His brands extinguish, and his false fire spends.
72
For idleness makes love, and then maintains
What it hath made, when he that well employs
His busy hours is free from Venus’ trains,
And the true freedom of his thoughts enjoys;
He had no time to sigh, that now complains,
The good his business did, his sloth destroys.
Love from the painful flies, but there most thrives,
And prospers best, when men lead slothful lives.
73
Being alone, Callisto’s shape impressed
So deeply in his heart lives in his eye;
She’s lodged both in the forest, and his breast,
And though far off, she is imagined nigh,
Phoebe abroad beholds her ’mongst the rest,
Young Jove at home, in his blind fantasy;
And now too late he wishes, but in vain,
Her still at court, or him of Dian’s train.
He haunts the forests and those shadowy places
Where fair Diana hunteth with her maids,
And like a huntsman the wild stag he chases,
Only to spy his mistress ’mongst the shades:
And if he chance where bright Callisto traces,
He thanks his fate; if not, his stars upbraids,
And deems a tedious summer’s day well spent
For one short sight of her, his soul’s content.
75
At length, he thus concludes: I am but young,
No downy hair upon my face appear,
I’ll counterfeit a shrill effeminate tongue,
And don such habit as the huntress wears,
When my gilt quiver ’cross my breast is hung,
And boar spear in my hand such as she bears:
My blood being fresh, my face indifferent fair,
Modest my eye, and never shorn my hair,
76
Who can discover me? Why may not I
Be entered as an anch’ress ’mongst the rest?
This is the way that I intend to try
—Of all my full conclusions held the best—
My habit I’ll bespeak so secretly
That what I purpose never can be guessed,
My lords assemble and to them show reason
Why I of force must leave them for a season.
Th’excuse unto the nobles current seems,
He takes his leave and travels on his way,
Of his intended voyage no man deems;
Now is he brisked up in his brave array;
So preciously his mistress he esteems,
That he makes speed to where the virgins stay,
And by the way his womanish steps he tried,
And practised how to speak, to look, to stride,
To blush and to make honours, and if need,
To pule and weep at every idle toy,
As women use, next to prepare his weed,
And his soft hand to chare-works to employ.
He profits in his practise—Heaven him speed
And of his shape assumèd grant him joy!—
Of all effeminate tricks, if you’ll believe him,
To practise tears and sempstry did most grieve him.
Yet did he these ’mongst many others learn,
He grows complete in all things—saving one,
And that no eye can outwardly discern:
Unless they search him, how can it be known?
But come unto the place, his heart doth earn,
Twice it was in his thought back to have gone:
But I am Jove, quoth he, and shall I then
Of women be afraid, that fear no men?
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With that he boldly knocks, when to the gate A royal virgin comes, to know his will: This Lady after was a queen of state And in Arcadia the fierce boar did kill; At’lanta she was called, admitted late, Who thinking to have there remainèd still, King Meleager in Achaia reigned, And to his nuptial bed this queen constrained. |
At’lanta that first strook the Calydonian boar |
“Fair virgin”, quoth At’lanta, “what’s your pleasure?”
Jove, after bows and curtsies, thus bespake her:
“Bright damsel, if you now retain that measure
Of grace, you have of beauty from your maker,
Pity a maid, that hath nor gold nor treasure,
And to your sacred order would betake her.
Know, from a noble house I am descended,
That humbly pray to be so much befriended.
Prefer me to the mistress of these shades,
Diana, whom I reverence, not through folly,
But as divinest goddess of all maids,
To whose chaste vows I am devoted wholly.”
At’lanta says she will, and straight invades
Diana thus: “O thou adorèd soly
Of Virgins, fairest Cynthia, will you deign
To make this stranger lady of your train?”
83
Diana takes her state; about her stand
A multitude of beauties; ’mongst the rest,
As Jove about him looks, on his right hand
He spies Callisto, Dian’s newcome guest,
She, for whose sake he left th’Epirian land.
At sight of her, fresh fires inflame his breast;
And as he stands, walled in with beauteous faces,
He most commends Callisto for her graces.
So many sparkling eyes were in his sight,
That hedged the sacred queen of virgins round,
That with their splendour have made noon of night,
Should all at once look upward, the base ground
Might match the sky, and make the earth as bright,
As in that even, when Ariadne crowned,
Was through the galaxia in pomp led,
Millions of stars all burning o’er her head.
85
Diana, Jove in every part surveys,
Who simpers by himself, and stands demurely.
His youth, his face, his stature she doth praise,
A brave virago she supposed him surely:
“Were all my train of this large size”, she says,
“Within these forests we might dwell securely.
’Mongst all that stand or kneel upon the grass,
I spy not such another manly lass.”
So gives her hand to kiss: Jove grace doth win,
With Phoebe and At’lanta, who suppose
Him what he seems; and now receivèd in,
With all the maids he well acquainted grows.
They teach him how to sew, to card, and spin.
Callisto for his bedfellow he chose;
With her all day he works, at night he lies,
Yet every morn, the maid, a maid doth rise.
87
For if he glanced but at a word or two
Of love, or grew familiar, as maids use,
She frowns, or shakes the head—all will not do;
His amorous parley she doth quite refuse.
Sometime by feeling touches he would woo,
Sometime her neck and breast, and sometime choose
Her lip to dally with: what hurt’s in this?
Who would forbid a maid, a maid to kiss?
88
And then amidst this dalliance he would cheer her,
And from her neck, decline unto her shoulder,
Next to her breast, and thence descending nearer
Unto the place, where he would have been bolder.
He finds the froward girl so chastely bear her,
That the more hot he seemed, she showed the colder,
And when he grew immodest, oft would say,
“Now, fie, for shame, lay by this foolish play”.
Alas, poor prince, thy punishment’s too great,
And more than any mortal can endure,
To be kept hungry in the sight of meat,
And thirsty, in the sight of waters pure.
Thou seek’st the food thou most desirest to eat,
Which flies thee most, when most thou think’st it sure,
’Tis double want, ’mongst riches to be poor,
And double death, to drown in sight of shore.
90
Besides, the prince too boldly dares not prove her,
As ignorant, how she may take his offer,
Nor dare he tell her he is Jove, her lover,
Though she at first might deem the prince did scoff her;
Yet if she should his secrecy discover,
He fears what violent force the queen might proffer
To one, that with such impudence profane
Should break the sacred orders of her train.
He therefore a convenient season watched,
When bright Diana the wild stag would chase.
The beauteous virgins were by couples matched,
And as the lawns they were about to trace,
Their pointed javelins in their hands they latched.
About their necks, in many a silken lace
Their bugles hung, which as the groves they trip,
Were oft-times kissed by every lady’s lip.
And in their ears the shrilling music tingled
Which made the echoing hills and vales resound;
Jove and Callisto ’mongst the rest was mingled,
Until the youthful prince occasion found
To shrink behind; him fair Callisto singled
And throws herself by Jove upon the ground,
And says, “how comes it you so soon are tired?”
—Oh Jove, thou now hast what thou long desired!
He chose a place, thick set with broad-leaved boughs,
Which from the grassy earth screened the bright sun;
Here never did the wanton he-goat browse,
Nor the wild ass for food to this place run;
This seat as fit for pastime he allows,
And longs withal until the sport be done,
For whilst the game flies from them, here he lags,
Covered with trees, and hemmed in round with flags?
94
Nor are they within hearing of the cries
Of the shrill bugles th’huntress virgins wear,
When the bold prince doth ’gainst Callisto rise,
Resolved to act what he did long forbear.
Nothing to hinder his attempt he spies:
Being alone, what should the bold youth fear?
Now with his love, he once more ’gins to play,
But still she cries, “Nay prithee, sweet, away!”
95
He begins t’unlace him, she thinks ’tis for heat,
And so it was for heat, which only she,
And none but she, could qualify: his seat
He changed, and now his dalliance grows more free,
For as her beauty, his desire is great;
Yet all this while no wrong suspecteth she.
He heaves her silk coats, that were thin and rare,
And yet she blushed not, though he see her bare.
96
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Jove takes th’advantage, by his former vow, And force perforce, he makes her his sweet prize; Th’amazèd virgin, scarce a virgin now, Fills all the neighbour groves with shrieks and cries, She catches at his locks, his lips, his brow, And rends her garments as she struggling lies. The violence came so sudden and so fast, She scarce knew what had chanced her, ’til ’twas passed. |
Callisto deflowered |
As when a man strook with a blast of thunder
Feels himself pierced, but knows not how, nor where,
His troubled thoughts confused with pain and wonder,
Distracted ’twixt amazedness and fear,
His foot removes not, nor his hands doth sunder,
Seems blind to see, and being deaf to hear,
And in an ecstasy so far misled,
That he shows dead alive, and living dead—
98
Even so this new-made woman, late a maid,
Lies senseless after this her transformation,
Seeing in vain she had implored Heaven’s aid
With many a fearful shriek and shrill oration,
Like one entranced upon the ground she’s laid,
Amazed at this her sudden alteration:
She is she knows not what, she cares not where,
Confounded with strange passion, force and fear.
Jove comforts her, and with his princely arm,
He would have raised her from the settled grass.
With amorous words he fain her grief would charm:
He tells her what he meant, and who he was;
But there is no amends for such shrewd harm,
Nor can he cheer the discontented lass,
Though he oft sware, and by his life protested,
She in his nuptial bed should be invested.
100
But nothing can prevail, she weeping swears
To tell Diana of his shameful deed;
So leaves him, watering all her way with tears.
Young Jove to leave the forest hath decreed,
He would not have it come to Dian’s ears,
And therefore to the city back doth speed;
She to the cloister, with her cheeks all wet,
Alone, as many, as when first they met.
[Heywood’s endnotes to canto II]
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Jasius reigned in Italy, at whose marriage the famous Egyptian Io was present. This was in the year of the world 2408. It was just six years after that Moses at the age of forty, having slain the Egyptian, fled from the sight of Pharaoh. |
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Eleven years after Moses departed out of Egypt, the two brothers Dardanus and Jasius waged wars in Italy: Jasius was assisted by the Janigenes (so called of Janus), Dardanus was aided by the Aborigines, so called by Sabatius Saga, who succeeded Comerus Gallus the Scythian in certain conquered provinces of Italy. |
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At this time, Lusus reigned in Spain, Allobrox in France, Crothopus the eighth king of the Argives. Now reigned Cranaus the second king of Athens, and at this time Aaron was consecrated high priest among the Israelites.
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Jasius was slain in the year of the world 2457, in whose place Coribanthus his son succeeded. |
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Dardanus sojourned certain years in Samothracia, and erected his city Dardan called Troy, in the thirty-first year of the dukedom of Moses, receiving that province where his city was erected from Atho, prince of Mœonia. |
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About the same time, by equal computation, Arcas and Callisto subduing the Pelasgians (by the help of Jupiter) called the whole province Arcadia. |
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Tantalus ruled the Phrygians, who were before his time called Maeones. This Maeonia is now called Lydia, under which climate Arachne was born, by Pallas turned into a spider. |
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Diana was thought to be daughter to an ancient king called Jupiter of Attic, which I take to be Jupiter Belus before spoken of. She was the first that instituted a professed order of virginity. The poets call this Diana Cynthia, and Phoebe, figuring in her the moon, and that her brother Phoebus and she were born of their mother Latona, daughter to Caeus the giant, in the isle of Delos. |
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Atalanta was daughter to Jasius, sister to Coribanthus, she first wounded the Calydonian boar, and was after espoused to Meleager, son to Oeneus, the king of Calydon by his wife Althea. |
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Lycaon was the son of Pelasgus, the son of Jupiter and Niobe, and of Melibea—or as some think, Cyllene. He had many sons by many wives, Maenelaus, Thesprotus, Nictymus, Caucon, Lycus, Menius, Macareus. In Arcadia, Maenalus that built the city Maenalus. Melenaeus that built Melenaeus not far from Megapolis. Acontius, that built Acontium. Charisius, that gave name to Charisium, and Cynethus to Cynetha: he had besides Psophis, Phthinus, Teleboas, Aemon, Mantinus, Stymphelus, Clitor, Orchomenus, and others. |
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Some reckon them to the number of fifty, others to many more. Amongst all these, he had but two daughters, Callisto and Dia. |
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Touching Ariadne’s crown, it is thus remembered, |
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Atque corona nitet clarum inter sydera signum, Defunctae quam Bacchus ibi dedit esse Ariadnae |
in Astronomica |
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Being forsaken of Theseus in the isle Naxos, whom before she had delivered from the Minotaur, she was espoused by the god Bacchus, and by him had Thoas, Onopion, Staphylus, Evanthes, Latramys, and Tauropolis. |
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The end of the second Canto
Back to Canto II (1-50)
Notes to Canto II
On to Canto III (1-50)
How to cite
Janice Valls-Russell, ed., 2014. Troia Britanica Canto II, 51-100 (1609). In A Dictionary of Shakespeare's Classical Mythology: A Textual Companion, ed. Yves Peyré (2009-).
http://www.shakmyth.org/page/Early+Modern+Mythological+Texts%3A+Troia+Britanica+II+%2851-100%29
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