ed in her speech and page,
Shall burst the tomb, and live through every age.

XVII
As Phoebus to his silvery sister shows
His visage more, and lends her brighter fires,
Than Venus, Maja, or to star that glows
Alone, or circles with the heavenly quires;
So he with sweeter eloquence than flows
From other lips, that gentle dame inspires;
And gives her word such force, a second sun
Seems in our days its glorious course to run.

XVIII
Mid victories born, Victoria is her name,
Well named; and whom (does she advance or stay)
Triumphs and trophies evermore proclaim,
While Victory heads or follows her array.
Another Artemisia is the dame,
Renowned for love of her Mausolus, yea
By so much greater, as it is more brave
To raise the dead, than lay them in the grave.

XIX
If chaste Laodamia, Portia true,
Evadne, Argia, Arria, and many more
Merited praise, because that glorious crew
Coveted burial with their lords of yore,
How much more fame is to Victoria due?
That from dull Lethe, and the river's shore,
Which nine times hems the ghosts, to upper light
Has dragged her lord, in death and fate's despite.

XX
If that loud-voiced Maeonian trump whilere
The Macedonian grudged Achilles, how,
Francis Pescara, O unconquered peer,
Would he begrudge thee, were he living now,
That wife, so virtuous and to thee so dear,
Thy well-earned glory through the world should blow;
And that thy name through her should so rebound,
Thou needst not crave a clearer trumpet's sound!

XXI
If all that is to tell, and all I fain
Would of that lady tell, I wished to unfold,
Though long, yet not so long, would be the stain,
But that large portion would be left untold,
While at a stand the story would remain
Of fierce Marphisa and her comrades bold;
To follow whom I promised erst, if you
Would but return to hear my song anew.

XXII
Now, being here to listen to my say,
Because I would not break my promise, I
Until my better leisure, will delay
Her every praise at length to certify.
Not that I think she needs my humble lay,
Who with such treasure can herself supply:
But simply to appay my single end,
That gentle dame to honour and commend.

XXIII
Ladies, in fine I say, that every age
Worthy of story, many a dame supplies;
But that, through jealous authors' envious rage,
Unchronicled by fame, each matron dies;
But will