The men of wealthy Sestos, every year,
For his sake whom their goddess held so dear,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis, kept a solemn feast.
Thither resorted many a wand'ring guest
To meet their loves; such as had none at all,
Came lovers home from this great festival.

On this feast-day — O cursed day and hour! —
Went Hero thorow Sestos, from her tower
To Venus' temple, where unhappily,
As after chanc'd, they did each other spy.
So fair a church as this had Venus none:
The walls were of discolour'd jasper-stone,
Wherein was Proteus carv'd, and o'erhead
A lively vine of green sea-agate spread
Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung,
And with the other, wine from grapes out-wrung.
Of crystal shining fair the pavement was:
The town of Sestos call'd it Venus' glass.
There you might see the gods, in sundry shapes,
Committing heady riots, incest, rapes:
For know, that underneath this radiant floor
Was Danaë's statue in a brazen tower;
Jove slily stealing from his sister's bed
To dally with Idalian Ganymede,
And for his love Europa bellowing loud,
And tumbling with the rainbow in a cloud;
Blood-quaffing Mars heaving the iron net
Which limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set;
Love kindling fire, to burn such towns as Troy;
Silvanus weeping for the lovely boy
That now is turn'd into a cypress-tree,
Under whose shade the wood-gods love to be.
And in the midst a silver altar stood:
There Hero, sacrificing turtles' blood,
Vail'd to the ground, veiling her eyelids close;
And modestly they open'd as she rose.
Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head,
And thus Leander was enamoured.
Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gaz'd,
Till with the fire that from his countenance blaz'd
Relenting Hero's gentle heart was strook:
Such force and virtue hath an amorous look.
It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.
When two are stript, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should lose, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect.
The reason no man knows: let it suffice,
What we behold is censur'd by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Whoever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?
He kneel'd; but unto her devoutly pray'd.
Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said,
" Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him."
And, as she spake those words, came somewhat near him.
He started up: she blush'd as one asham'd,
Wherewith Leander much more was inflam'd.
He touch'd her hand; in touching it she trembled:
Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
These lovers parley'd by the touch of hands:
True love is mute, and oft amazed stands.
Thus while dumb signs their yielding hearts entangled,
The air with sparks of living fire was spangled;
And night, deep-drench'd in misty Acheron,
Heav'd up her head, and half the world upon
Breath'd darkness forth: dark night is Cupid's day.
And now begins Leander to display
Love's holy fire, with words, with sighs and tears,
Which like sweet music enter'd Hero's ears;
And yet at every word she turn'd aside,
And always cut him off as he replied.

Which makes him quickly re-enforce his speech,
And her in humble manner thus beseech:
" Though neither gods nor men may thee deserve,
Yet for her sake whom you have vow'd to serve,
Abandon fruitless cold virginity,
The gentle queen of love's sole enemy.
Then shall you most resemble Venus' nun,
When Venus' sweet rites are perform'd and done.
Flint-breasted Pallas joys in single life;
But Pallas and your mistress are at strife.
Love, Hero, then, and be not tyrannous,
But heal the heart that thou hast wounded thus,
Nor stain thy youthful years with avarice:
Fair fools delight to be accounted nice.
The richest corn dies, if it be not reap'd:
Beauty alone is lost, too warily kept."
These arguments he us'd, and many more,
Wherewith she yielded, that was won before.
For his sake whom their goddess held so dear,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis, kept a solemn feast.
Thither resorted many a wand'ring guest
To meet their loves; such as had none at all,
Came lovers home from this great festival.

On this feast-day — O cursed day and hour! —
Went Hero thorow Sestos, from her tower
To Venus' temple, where unhappily,
As after chanc'd, they did each other spy.
So fair a church as this had Venus none:
The walls were of discolour'd jasper-stone,
Wherein was Proteus carv'd, and o'erhead
A lively vine of green sea-agate spread
Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung,
And with the other, wine from grapes out-wrung.
Of crystal shining fair the pavement was:
The town of Sestos call'd it Venus' glass.
There you might see the gods, in sundry shapes,
Committing heady riots, incest, rapes:
For know, that underneath this radiant floor
Was Danaë's statue in a brazen tower;
Jove slily stealing from his sister's bed
To dally with Idalian Ganymede,
And for his love Europa bellowing loud,
And tumbling with the rainbow in a cloud;
Blood-quaffing Mars heaving the iron net
Which limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set;
Love kindling fire, to burn such towns as Troy;
Silvanus weeping for the lovely boy
That now is turn'd into a cypress-tree,
Under whose shade the wood-gods love to be.
And in the midst a silver altar stood:
There Hero, sacrificing turtles' blood,
Vail'd to the ground, veiling her eyelids close;
And modestly they open'd as she rose.
Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head,
And thus Leander was enamoured.
Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gaz'd,
Till with the fire that from his countenance blaz'd
Relenting Hero's gentle heart was strook:
Such force and virtue hath an amorous look.
It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.
When two are stript, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should lose, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect.
The reason no man knows: let it suffice,
What we behold is censur'd by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Whoever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?
He kneel'd; but unto her devoutly pray'd.
Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said,
" Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him."
And, as she spake those words, came somewhat near him.
He started up: she blush'd as one asham'd,
Wherewith Leander much more was inflam'd.
He touch'd her hand; in touching it she trembled:
Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
These lovers parley'd by the touch of hands:
True love is mute, and oft amazed stands.
Thus while dumb signs their yielding hearts entangled,
The air with sparks of living fire was spangled;
And night, deep-drench'd in misty Acheron,
Heav'd up her head, and half the world upon
Breath'd darkness forth: dark night is Cupid's day.
And now begins Leander to display
Love's holy fire, with words, with sighs and tears,
Which like sweet music enter'd Hero's ears;
And yet at every word she turn'd aside,
And always cut him off as he replied.

Which makes him quickly re-enforce his speech,
And her in humble manner thus beseech:
" Though neither gods nor men may thee deserve,
Yet for her sake whom you have vow'd to serve,
Abandon fruitless cold virginity,
The gentle queen of love's sole enemy.
Then shall you most resemble Venus' nun,
When Venus' sweet rites are perform'd and done.
Flint-breasted Pallas joys in single life;
But Pallas and your mistress are at strife.
Love, Hero, then, and be not tyrannous,
But heal the heart that thou hast wounded thus,
Nor stain thy youthful years with avarice:
Fair fools delight to be accounted nice.
The richest corn dies, if it be not reap'd:
Beauty alone is lost, too warily kept."
These arguments he us'd, and many more,
Wherewith she yielded, that was won before.