So fair a church as this had Venus none. The walls were of discoloured jasper stone Wherein was Proteus carved, and o’erhead A lively vine of green sea agate spread, Where by one hand lightheaded Bacchus hung, And, with the other, wine from grapes out wrung. Of crystal shining fair the pavement was. The town of Sestos called it Venus’ glass. There might you see the gods in sundry shapes Committing heady riots, incest, rapes. For know, that underneath this radiant floor Was Danae’s statue in a brazen tower, Jove slyly 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; Sylvanus weeping for the lovely boy That now is turned into a cypress tree, Under whose shade the wood gods love to be. And in the midst a silver altar stood. There Hero, sacrificing turtle’s blood, Vailed to the ground, vailing her eyelids close, And modestly they opened as she rose. Thence flew Love’s arrow with the golden head, And thus Leander was enamoured. Stone still he stood, and evermore he gazed Till with the fire that from his countenance blazed 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 overruled by fate. When two are stripped, 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 censured by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?