[from Christopher Marlowe's Hero and Leander, ca 1580]
Ham’s story . . .
So lovely fair was Hero, Venus’ nun,
As Nature wept, thinking she was undone,
Because she took more from her than she left
And of such wondrous beauty her bereft;
Therefore, in sign her treasure suffered wrack,
Since Hero’s time hath half the world been black.
no fish no bicycle . . .
Like untuned golden strings all women are,
Which long time lie untouched, will harshly jar.
Vessels of brass, oft handled, brightly shine;
What difference betwixt the richest mine
And basest mold, but use? for both, not used
Are of like worth. . . .
Ah, simple Hero, learn thyself to cherish!
Lone women, like to empty houses, perish. . . .
One is no number; maids are nothing, then,
Without the sweet society of men.
appendix . . .
Above our life we love a steadfast friend,
Yet when a token of great worth we send,
We often kiss it, often look thereon,
And stay the messenger that would be gone;
No marvel then that Hero would not yield
So soon to part from that she dearly held;
Jewels being lost are found again, this never;
’Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost forever.