loves Leprosy.  
The Preface to the Title.  

The Leprosy if Physic been approved,  
Achilles' cure, because Achilles loved:  
The Leprosy (saith Gordon) a disease,  
Which on the child as yet unborn doth seize,  
Infectious and contagious, I could prove  
It is incurable, and so is love.  
loves Leprosy according to her kind,  
Made him a Leper in a lovers mind.   
Imprinted at London by W. White, dwelling in Cow-lane. 1598.   

To the right Honourable Sir Rebert Sydnie, Lord governor of Flushing, T. P. wisheth all increase of Honour, with the continuance of his house in that flourishing estate wherein it is now established.  
IKnow not (right Honourable) how to excuse this insinuation of mine, in committing this unballast Bark to the main of your protection, considering that every little River hath water enough to bear it from the ground: yet if the Ozean rage not (as in disdain to support so weak a vessel) I may accomplish the period of my desires, and by this voyage learn to correct my Compass; if otherwise, this Bark containing all my fortunes, suffers untimely shipwreck, and I bankrupt of my infant hopes: 
At tua supplicibus domus est assueta iwandis,  
In quorum numero me praecor esse velis.   
There is a Sea interventing the Haven Aulis of Beotia and Eubaea, called Euripus; which flows with such violence, that it prevails against the winds in maintaining full sails displayed exaduerso: The same Sea (right Honourable) a true Idea, resembles the Love wherewith you embrace the Muse's sons in rescuing from the Phocian Pyreneus the Pyerian choristers, whom headstronglust seeks to dishonour; I present to your lordship the luckless loves of Achilles: which if they may but gain a gracious view in your judicial discretion, you shall buy my labours at a high rate, and I think myself therewith bountifully rewarded.  
Your Lordships officious in all duties of humility, Tho. Powell.   

LECTORI.  
'twas Dedalus that envied at the Boy  
Drenched in the Sea, for making of a toy:  
Little glory did he win;  
Envy is a much sin.  
'tis he, and none but he I fear,  
Loath to buy my toy so dear.  
When Apollo shineth bright,  
Lesser Stars shall lose their light.  
Wonder not when day is ended,  
Though our glimmering be extended.  
If I borrow from the Sun,  
And restore not, day once done.  
May this Star that's so impaled,  
Like a Meteor be exhaled:  
That with his prodigious breath,  
Doth infect unto the death.  
Cast me not headlong from Parnassus' hill,  
Although my work be wanting to my will.  
Gentle Reader yours to use, If propitiate with his muse. T. P.   

JAMES HARMAN in commendations of the Author▪  

I Can but muse to see thy timorous Muse,  
Of envies hidden sting to stand in awe:  
What though th' Athinian Carpenter did bruise  
The forward youth, foyboasting of his Saw:  
Envy will turn to Love, and Love to liking;  
Such influence abideth in thy wrighting.   

Let but the gentle Reader read thy years,  
Thy Cygnet for a Swan he will allow:  
For by Achilles loves it well appears,  
Thee with her treasure Pallas did endow.  
Let this suffice for all, thou mayst be bold,  
So young a head near wrote a verse so old.   
Cum tonat ocyus Ilex.  
Sulphur discuitur sacroquam tuque domusque.   

loves Leprosy.  
TROY lost her Soldier,  
Priam lost a Son:  
Troy's hopes were passed,  
and Priam's triumphs done.  
The Phrygian Dames,  
those sad Illyades,  
Earth spherifying lights,  
heavens Pleiades,  
Do fret the pavement of his brazen Tomb  
With tears, whose currants from their eyelids run:  
With tears in stead of flowers they strew the way,  
Such solemn rites beseem so black a day.  
With tears they wash his wounds, and then again  
Lament with tears, their brother Hector slain.  
Even at these exequys amongst the rest,  
Was Peleus' issue an unwelcome guest.  
He notes their sorrow, and each several passion,  
Affrighting Nemesis with invocation.  
Polyxena sends forth from trembling breast,  
Ye Gods in whom Troy holds her interest.  
Be just upon Achilles for this deed,  
Who first begird me with a mourning weed:  
At this incensed, to hear such imprecation,  
As to his own soul had so near relation.  
His blood grows proud, and makes his brow the land  
Which he try fallows like caractered sand.  
Thus he replies in language mixed with gall,  
That but for honour of the capital:  
And of that truce whereto they were conjured,  
By Hector's blood, which had the earth manured.  
And all the souls which by untimely fate,  
His Sword had sent to hell before their date.  
That tongue from whom such rancour had his course,  
Should beg for life, and yet find no remorse:  
But sacrificious at her brother's shrine,  
Besprinkling it with blood, her soul refine.  
These words he used, and using them came near,  
So nigh that fair Polyxena did appear:  
Our Mermaidonian Captain all amazed,  
Stone still he stands, and standing still he gazed:  
His eyes were dimmed, the object was so bright;  
Such is the force of Beauty, such her might.  
His heart an anvil to a tragic theme,  
Where death began to forge a stratagem  
Will not endure while fury strikes a heat:  
But at the first alarums sounds retreat.  
His hands intended like that furious Knight,  
Who thought the Grecian fleet might prove his right.  
Or as himself, when as his second self  
Breathed forth his soul, divorced from life and death.  
Even now as then for his Patroclus sake:  
Now did I say, even now I mistake,  
O now they plead as Oracles of grace,  
They menace none, for Love hath changed the case.  
A change to see his knee to offer duty,  
The foot whereof spurns at all changing beauty.  
Achilles loves Polyxena: What is she?  
The living daughter of his enemy.  
How shall he woo her, that hath wed another?  
How shall he win her, that hath slain her brother?  
His Trophies and his triumphs she doth hate.  
In Hector's death his valour lived too late.  
Live blest in this, that thou art Orpheus' brother:  
He none of thine, nor Thetis is his mother.  
He in Castalian, therein didst thou bathe,  
And thou in Stygian, so he never hath:  
Minion to Mars, and Champion to the nine:  
O that our age could elbow that of thine.  
But widow she hath lost Achilles' mate,  
SIDNEY whose breathing fame admits no date.  
O but for him I never should abide,  
But tell the Achademicks loud he lied,  
Who mids those wholesome herbs which he did cherish,  
Suffered Metemsucosin so to flourish.  
In him Achilles' wandering soul did rest,  
Who like an Eagle could not build her nest,  
Till she had found him out; but full of pain,  
Seeks her Echytes elsewhere all in vain.  
With finding him, my Muse hath lost herself:  
Come back, for Natures banquer out of her wealth.  
The Phoenix burns, would tears might quench the flame:  
Andromache calls on dead Hector's name.  
Though he be dead, his honours ever live:  
My infant Pen shall him his tribute give.  
And when this Cygnet hath a whiter hue,  
She vows to swim, or sink, in open view.  
Achilles woos her Love, is full of woe,  
Polyxen yields, but Hecuba says no.  
Alas that Love the son, and Love the mother,  
By opposition should adverse each other:  
She doth accuse him as degenerate,  
Whose birth a Goddess did contaminate:  
He swears she is unkind of woman kind:  
Predominance stuffs her ambitious mind.  
Both strive to soveraignize, both emulate,  
Such civil war the weal doth dissipate.  
O I should deem them, but for their descents,  
Two of the four substantial Elements.  
Those two I mean, whose contrariety,  
Seeks to expel by their adversity.  
Hence be't Polyxen loves and loathes together,  
Much like the Vain that's guided by the weather:  
This is the influence of Love the mother,  
And Love the son, efficient of the other.  
Once more, and reprehend not for digression:  
A woman's mind is fit for each impression:  
Hypocrates electuary wise  
Attributes it to weakness in their eyes:  
Induce me to subscribe he never can,  
For every female will outface a man,  
And sink him in the centre of her eye,  
Drentcht with the sources of immodesty.  
Old Hecuba, well learned in their sex,  
Instructes her daughter in this devilish text:  
Hate occupy the centre of thy heart,  
Varnish with Love the superficial part,  
That when Achilles' hopes to crop a flower,  
The hidden Snake may have him in her power.  
The drift is this, Achilles being slain,  
The Grecian Trophies will decline and wain:  
Love him as Rangers use to love their Dear,  
That being fat, they fall at time of year.  
The Lecturis was diligent to reed,  
The Pupil as attentive gives good heed:  
The Grecian at the first encounter failed,  
Albeit, his second orisons prevaylde.  
Albeit, his second orisons prevaylde.  
Maids at the first, fear to be counted light,  
And therefore use their Noah but as a slight:  
Yet if she love, preventing Nay at thrice,  
For fear she lose her pray, cries Yea at twice.  
Egiptus Son whom Danaa takes to wise,  
Feels ere he sees his throat to kiss the knife:  
Even so our Lover, fearing no infection,  
Tastes by the tongue, but tries not by digestion.  
And now he strikes a higher note in Love,  
Than erst when base strings did only move.  
Am I loves thrall (quoth he) and must I yield  
To her, the honours which I won in field?  
Lo Cytherea at thy sacred shrine,  
My conquests I do willingly resign.  
Where love's the goal, and Beauty giveth aim,  
I'll prove an Archer, though I lose the gayme.  
Some of my shafts are spent, not will I spare,  
But other shaftsshell proforate the air:  
When all are gone, heavens archar shall supply,  
By him I'll calculate loves destiny.  
joined with the most propitiate of the seven,  
Dart forth celestial influence from heaven.  
For this days deed, O chide me not to morrow,  
'tis not of Maurus that I beg or borrow:  
If I do so, let Euseus lose his right:  
And yet 'tis far to reach unto the white.  
His heavy quiver and my heart of lead,  
Will make the crazy sick, the sick-man dead.  
The Destinies were never yet my Saints.  
At Fortune's shrine I breathe not forth my plaints.  
How much I scorn to borrow Maurus Bow,  
heavens constellations may confirm and show:  
I will command them all; if they refuse,  
The pledge of Wisdom shall be my excuse, 
ens inebi-Astris.   
If Sagitarius throw me from a far,  
Four spheres remote to Phoebus' thirling car,  
And he suppose it be disparagement,  
To give a heaven wracked soul some entertainment,  
Like to a fire I'll sit upon the maines  
Of his unmanaged jades, and burn their reins  
Then will I take my Goddess by the hand,  
Whose awful Sceptre guideth Paphos land.  
How I am wronged she shall inform her Son,  
And he shall help when all my hopes are done.  
If Cupid favour not, then will I prove,  
Apostata unto the God of love.  
Nay more, a Cynic like Diogenes,  
Misanthropos and a Misogones:  
This resolution did proceed from Love,  
In whose thought flying Orb his soul did move:  
The day he spends in study how to gain her,  
His study nothing else but to obtain her:  
Observing this a motive in their kind,  
High praises humour best a woman's mind.  
And this moves him to prove practitioner,  
Solicit love pleas Cupid's barrister.  
Polyxenes Poet in his Mistress praise,  
Thus 'gins to volley forth his amorous lays▪  
Thou wretchles Father of a wretched Son,  
Sire to that dismounted Phaeton:  
Give reins unto those fiery Steeds of thine,  
That tread the path of the signiferous line.  
Fair Sun that seest each mother's Son on earth,  
Cynthius by love, Latoides by thy birth:  
Proud for the one, promoted for the other.  
Vowed to thy Love, devoted to thy Mother.  
Eye of all seeing-heavens, earths life, worlds light;  
Whose presence makes the day, and absence night:  
Perform the revolution of swift time,  
according to these fair demands of mine.  
Point at that time, that wished time, and say;  
Lo this of many, a selected day:  
Wherein thy Love yields her consenting voice,  
Of thee (would God of me) to make her choice.  
Know'st thou Earth, animating light, my saint?  
The fountain of my grief, and hearts complaint?  
If not, attend the whilst I shall thee show,  
How thou my Love from others loves mayst know  
O she is fairer than the lovely Boy,  
Who by his death bereft Hyperions joy.  
Had this Diana naked in the Sring,  
By any Forester been ever seen,  
He could not have the power to run away:  
But there enchanted, at the gaze to stay.  
Nor need she call the Nymphs to reach her boe,  
The fight had ravished and bewitched him so.  
Her voice the ground of winged Hermes sweet,  
Wherewith Lucina's Watchman fell a sleep:  
Her hands, if jove perceive they seem to crave,  
She need not speak, jove grants what she would have.  
The margin is so fair to gaze upon,  
That he shall surfeit if he gaze too long.  
Her arms heavens continent, the way so bright,  
Reflecting Cynthius' rays seems lacteall white.  
Once more the more for to decipher her,  
she's like thyself, O none so like fair star.  
The beauty thy dishevered locks contain,  
Doth in the trammels of her hair remain.  
As we eye thee (all objects set apart)  
So she hath power to draw both eyes and heart.  
If any pen distinguish twixt the Gods  
And fair Polyxens, I allow him odds:  
Maintain, there is no difference but this;  
That they in Heaven, she on the Centre is.  
By him her praises have eternity,  
And she lays naked his mortality.  
True love's a saint, so shall you true love know:  
False Love a Schythian, yet a saint in show.  
When many elegies of Love were done,  
Polyxens hand, but not heart he won:  
On this condition, that his Sword and Shield  
Should never be advanced in Teucrian field:  
And every Mermaidon whom he controlled,  
The same with him inviolate to hold.  
By this the days of truce did take an end:  
And here gins the practise they intend▪  
A second leader to the forebred fight,  
Was instigated Troilus behight:  
He knows Achilles sleeps within his tent,  
His loins ungirded, and his Bow unbent.  
He there the Trojan gallant plays his pranks,  
Passes confronted Pikes, and breaks their ranks.  
The Grecians fly, their captains being slain,  
Our younger Son to Mars pursues amain:  
Makes pavement of their Trunks, and where he rides,  
The hollow hoof check quered in blood abides,  
Leaving the print behind, as who should say,  
Be witness that the Trojan road this way:  
Achilles doth behold by Love restrained.  
He fears to be orebolde, but rests contained,  
With execration that he did consent,  
By solemn oath unto this dark intent,  
Their instruments of War keep tims accord,  
The Spartan King, before Antenor's Sword:  
Flies in such danger of recovery,  
He wished nights mantel were his sanctuary.  
His Foe grows insolent, made proud with prey,  
And conquest must her utmust duty pay.  
Achilles is not tied unto the Mast,  
The Acheloydes sing, and he in haste  
Leaps from his cabin: O 'ttwere triple wrong  
That he impatient should abstain so long.  
Well mounted & well met, they join together  
Like Clouds, whose rushing cause tempestuous weather:  
And now their clattering Shields resemble thunder.  
The fire a lightning when the clouds do sunder,  
Long did it thunder ere the heavens were bright,  
So long that when it cleared, the day was night:  
A night perpetual unto Priam's son;  
His Horse was slain, the day was lost & won,  
And here each one might hear winds whispering sound,  
When erst the Drums their senses did confound  
Troilus deaths, chief conquest from the field,  
Wrapped in their Colours, covered with his Shield,  
They carry him to make the number more,  
Whose bleeding sides Achilles Spear did gore.  
O had he not been over insolent,  
Achilles' Spear had rested in his Tent:  
But his provoking pride did seem to brave  
The bravest Soldier in the air concave.  
This is the only price that Valour yields,  
Thy soul shall find his rest in Martial fields.  
The second league for days they do proclaim,  
And now Achilles' visits his fair dame.  
Ill far that outward fair that's inward foul,  
An Angel's face wed to Proserpina's soul:  
If Devils in Deity thus masked been,  
The man that's so bewitched doth no whit sin.  
Thus pleads the subject of my weeping Muse,  
Eor his fond Loves, alleging this excuse.  
If he complain on Love, she hears his plaints  
With delinition, and because he faints,  
She doth revive him, brooking no delay,  
With as signation of a wedding day.  
Forthwith a marriage twixt them was concluded:  
Alas that true Love should be so deluded.  
The Sun is rose, sees Thetis Son to fall,  
Under this false pretended nuptial.  
The Delphic Oracle is now fulfilleth,  
Ear Troy be won, Achilles must be killed.  
This is the day wherein they surfeit all,  
With blood of his, who made the Troyans' thrall.  
And this the day wherein he did appease  
Unquiet souls, which erst could find no ease,  
This day was night to him, and day to those  
By whom untimely death did here repose  
His lives familiar Star doth shoot and fall,  
The fairest Star the heavens wear gracte withal.  
Even when his steps salute the Temple porch  
With Hymns, and Hymenaeus burning torch,  
A shaft from Paris hand did soon disclose  
Where Styx had kissed him, and how high it rose.  
Where the Stygian flood did never reach,  
deaths winged messenger did make a breach:  
Whence from each vein, the sacred breath descending,  
Polyxens' joys began, and his had ending.  
FINIS.   

Elaegia.  

OF all the Gods above,  
I did honour Love:  
Love his deity.  
Nothing might me move,  
For I did approve  
Love his piety.  
I did love,  
He did prove,  
Nothing might my Love remove.  
He did prove,  
I did love:  
Witness this the Gods above.   

He did not respect me,  
But he did reject me,  
In his royalty:  
He did not affect me,  
But he did suspect me  
Of disloyalty:  
No respect  
Did reject  
Me in this his royalty:  
No affect  
Did suspect  
Me, for no disloyalty.   

I the Field did leave,  
And mine Arms bequeath  
To the Love Qneene.  
To my brow did cleave  
Venus Myrtill wreath:  
There was love seen.  
I did leave,  
And bequeath,  
Mine Armour for a Myrtill wreath:  
Myrtle wreath  
Purchased leave,  
To my Temples fast to cleave,   

The Body that was so blind,  
Showed himself unkind  
To mine amours:  
plaining to the wind,  
I no ease could find  
To my clamours.  
He was blind,  
And unkind:  
So unconstant was his mind,  
As the wind,  
So unkind:  
Ease for Love I could not find.   

Now I do repent me,  
Now I do lament me:  
But alas too late.  
Gentle heart relent thee,  
Though thou must content thee  
With thy froward fate.  
heart content thee,  
heart relent thee,  
Since Polyxens was untrue.  
I lament me,  
And repent me:  
Love and Women both adieu.   
Tam veneri quam Marti, mortuus Achilles.