The Strife of Love in a Dream

Love praises perseverance: then relates how one feast day he saw Polia in a temple of Love; and seeing that he could not speak to her, he wrote her a letter, the contents of which are declared in his narrative.

How Poliphile, having no means to speak to his lady, wrote to her to make her understand his martyrdom, and the contempt for the letter that he sent her.

How Poliphile continues his history, saying that Polia took no account of his two letters, whereby he sent her a third, which profited as little as the others: and at the end he withdrew toward her, whom he found alone in the temple of Diana, where she was at prayer: and while making a discourse to her of his languishing, he died of grief in her presence: then some time after was resuscitated.

How the soul of Poliphile recounts to him what had happened to him since the departure from his body, and of the accusations it had proposed before the goddess Venus against Cupid, and the cruel Polia.

How Poliphile says that when his soul had finished speaking, he found himself alive in the arms of his best-beloved Polia: and requests the Priestess original: "Priueſſe" that she might confirm their friendship. Then Polia puts an end to the account she had begun before the Nymphs.

How Polia all at the same time finished her account, and the wreath of flowers which she put on the head of Poliphile. Then how the Nymphs who had listened to her returned to their pastimes, taking leave of the two lovers, who remained alone, conversing together of their loves. Whereupon Poliphile awoke.

How Poliphile makes an end to his Hypnerotomachia The title translates to "The Strife of Love in a Dream", complaining of the dream which was so brief, and that the Sun rose so soon for him to break his sleep, as if he had been in the eyes of his felicity.

How Poliphile recounts to him what had happened to him since the departure of his lady Polia.

END OF THE CHAPTERS OF POLIPHILE

Of the sleep that took Poliphile, & how

IT SEEMED TO HIM WHILE SLEEPING THAT HE

was in a desert country, then in an
obscure forest.

POR one morning in the month of April around the dawn of the day, I, Poliphile, was in my bed, without other company than my loyal guard Agrypnie Agrypnie, that is to say, without sleep, or vigilance., who had kept me all that night in many conversations, and took pains to console me: for I had declared to her the occasion of my sighs. At the end she advised me to forget all by sickness. to remedy all my grief: then knowing that I ought to rest, she took her leave, and left me alone. Whereby I remained fantasizing, and consuming the rest of the night by myself. If love is never equal, how is it possible to love that which loves not? and in what manner can a poor doubtful soul resist, fought by so many assaults? considering especially that the war is interior, and the enemies familiar and domestic, along with being continually occupied by very variable opinions. After this there came to my memory the miserable condition of lovers who, to please another, desire sweetly to die: and to satisfy themselves, are content to live in unease, not satiating their famished desire, except with vain, dangerous, and painful imaginations. I labored so much at this discourse, that my spirits, weary of this frivolous thinking, received a false and feigned pleasure, and from the divine object of my lady Polia (the figure of whom is engraved in the depths of my heart) sought thereafter nothing but natural rest, so as not to find myself entirely overtaken by sleep, and I fell asleep. O Jupiter, sovereign God, shall I call this vision happy, marvelous, or terrible, which is such that in me there is no part so small that does not tremble and burn in thinking of it? It seemed to me (certainly) that I was in a spacious plain, sown with flowers and greenery: the weather was serene and temperate, the sun bright, and softened by a gracious wind: whereby everything there was marvelously peaceful, and in silence: of which I was seized with a fearful admiration: for I perceived there no sign of human habitation, nor even a haunt of beasts: which made me hasten my steps, looking here and there. Nevertheless, I could see nothing else except leaves and branches which did not move at all.

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