A decorative border from Grosart


The Queens Arcadia title from Grosart


Daphne sola.

O what a wondrous skil[lfu]l man is this?
Why he knows all? O God, who ever thought
Any man living, could have told so right
A woman's grief in all points as he hath?
Why, this is strange that by my very pulse
He should know all I ail, as well as I.
Beside I fear he sees too much in me,
More than I would that any man should see.
Methought (although I could not well conceive
His words, he spake so learnèd and so strange)
He said I had misruled my body much;
As if he meant that in some wanton sort,
I had abused my body with some man:
O how should he know that? what is my pulse
Become the intelligencer of my shame?
Or are my looks the index of my heart
Sure so he said, and methought too, he named
Menalcas, or else something very like;
And likewise named that cunning treacherous wretch
That hath undone me, Colax, that vile Devil;
Who is indeed the cause of all my grief,
For which I now seek Physick; but O what
Can Physick do to cure that hideous wound
My lusts have given my Conscience? which I see
Is that which only is diseas'd within,
And not my body now; that's it doth so
Disquiet all the lodging of my spirits,
As keeps me waking; that is it presents
Those only forms of terror that affright
My broken sleeps; that, lays upon my heart
This heavy load that weighs it down with grief;
And no disease beside: for which there is
No cure I see at all, nor no redress.
    Didst thou allege vile man to my weak youth,
How that those vows I made unto my love
Were bands of custom, and could not lay on
Those manacles on nature, which should keep
Her freedom prisoner by our dome of breath?
O impious wretch now nature gives the lie
To thy foul heart and tells my grievèd soul,
I have done wrong, to falsify that vow
I first to my dear love Menalcas made.
And says th'assurance and the faith is given
By band on earth, the same is sealed in Heaven.
    And therefore now Menalcas can these eyes
That now abhor to look upon my self,
Dare ever view that wrongèd face of thine,
Who hast relied on this false heart of mine.











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Transcribed and modernized by Anniina Jokinen from
Daniel, Samuel. The Complete Works in Verse and Prose of Samuel Daniel. vol 3.
A. B. Grosart, ed. New York: Rusell & Russell, Inc., 1885, Reissued in 1963. 256-258.




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