which thinks for this thou euer shalt be fam'd;
True, so thou shalt, but fam'd in infamie,
Is worse then lyuing in obscuritie.
If thou didst knowe howe greeuous tis to me
to lyue in this vnhabited aboade,
Where none (but sorrowe) keepes me companie,
I know thou wouldst thy harts hate then vnload,
Oh, I did ne're deserue this miserie,
For to denie the truth were heresie.
I tell thee (Loue) when secret-tongued night
puts on her mistie sable-coloured vayle,
My wrangling woes, within them selues do fight,
they murder hope, which makes their Captaine wayle,
And wailing so, can neuer take his rest,
That keepes such vnrul'd Souldiers in his brest.
So when the cleere nights-faults-disclosing day
peepes forth her purple head, from out the East,
These woes (my Souldiers) crie out for their pay,
(and if deni'd) they stab mee, with vnrest;
My teares are pay, but all my teares are dride
Therefore I must their fatall blowes abide.
In these laments did _Dom Diego_ liue
long time; till at the last by pourefull fate,
A wandring Huntsman ignorance did driue
vnto the place whence hee return'd but late;
Who viewing well the print of humaine steps
Directly followed them, and for ioy leaps.
At last hee came vnto _Diegoes_ Caue
in which he sawe a sauadge man (hee thought)
Who much did looke like the _Danubyan_ slaue,
such deep-worn furrows in his face were wrought,
_Diego_ much abashed at this sight
Came running forth, him in his armes to plight.
For glad hee was (God knowes) to see a man,
who (wretch) in two yeres space did ne're see any
Such gladnes, ioy, such mirth, such triumph can
not be set downe, suppose them to be many.
But see, long had they not confer'd together,
When (happie time) each one did know the other.
VVith that _Diego_ shewes him all his loue,
his pennance, her first loue, & now her hate,
But hee requested him hence to remoue,
and at his house the rest hee should dilate,
Which hee deni'd, onely hee now doth write
By this his friend, vnto his harts delight.
Deere Loue (quoth he) when shall I home returne,
wh[=e] will the coales of hate be quencht with loue,
VVhich now in raging flames my hart do burne,
oh, when wilt thou this thy disdaine remoue;
Aske of this bearer, be inquisitiue,
And hee will tell thee in what case I liue.
Inquire of her, whose Hawke ha
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