The poesies of George Gascoigne Esquire

The Posies of George Gascoigne Esquire .

Corrected , perfected , and augmented by the Authour . 1575.

Tam Marti , quàm Mercurio .

¶ IMPRINTED AT London by H. Bynneman for Richard Smith .

These Bookes are to be solde at the Northwest dore of Paules Church .

¶ To the reuerende Diuines , vnto whom these Posies shall happen to be presented , George Gascoigne Esquire ( professing armes in the defence of Gods truth ) wisheth quiet in conscience , and all consolation in Christ Iesus .

RIght reuerend : I haue thought it my part ( before I wade further in publishing of these Posies ) to lay open before your graue iudgementes , aswell the cause which presently moueth mee to present them , as also the depth and secrets of some conceytes , which ( being passed in clowdes and figuratiue speeches ) might percase both be offensiue to your grauitie , and perillous to my credite .

It is verie neare two yeares past , since ( I beeing in Hollande in seruice with the vertuous Prince of Orenge ) the most parte of these Posies were imprinted , and now at my returne , I find that some of them haue not onely bene offensiue for sundrie wanton speeches and lasciuious phrases , but further I heare that the same haue beene doubtfully construed , and ( therefore ) scandalous .

My reuerende and welbeloued : whatsoeuer my youth hath seemed vnto the grauer sort , I woulde bee verie loth nowe in my middle age to deserue reproch : more loth to touch the credite of any other , and moste loth to haue mine own name become vnto you odious . For if I shoulde nowe at this age seeme as carelesse of reproche , as I was in greene youth readie to goe astray , my faultes might quickely growe double , and myne estimation shoulde bee woorthie too remayne but single . I haue learned that although there may bee founde in a Gentleman whereby to be reprehended or rebuked , yet ought he not to be woorthie of reproofe or condemnation .

All this I set downe in preamble , too the ende I maye thereby purchase youre pacience . And as I desyre that you wyll not condemne mee wythoute proofe , so am I contented , that if heereafter you finde mee guiltie , youre definitiue , sentence shall then passe publikelye vnder the Seale of Seueritie .

It were not reason ( righte reuerende ) that I shoulde bee ignoraunt howe generally wee are all magis proni ad malum quàm ad bonum . Euen so is it requisite that I acknowledge a generall reformation of maners more necessarie to bee taught , than anye Whetstone of Vanities is meete ( in these dayes ) to bee suffered . And therefore as youre grauitie hathe thought requysite that all ydle Bookes or wanton Pamphlettes shoulde bee forbidden , so might it seeme that I were woorthie of greate reprehension , if I shoulde bee the Aucthour of euill wilfully , or a prouoker of vyces wittingly . And yet some there are who haue not spared too reporte that I receyued greate summes of money for the first printing of these Posies , whereby ( if it were true ) I mighte seeme not onely a craftie Broker for the vtteraunce of garishe toyes , but a corrupte Merchaunte for the sale of deceyptfull wares .

For answere heereof it is moste true ( and I call Heauen and Earth too witnesse ) that I neuer receyued of the Printer , or of anye other , one grote or pennie for the firste Copyes of these Posyes . True it is that I was not vnwillinge the same shoulde bee imprinted : And that not of a vaineglorious desyre too bee thought a pleasaunt Poet , neyther yet of a lyghte minde too bee counted a cunning Louer . For though in youth I was often ouerhardie too put my name in Ballaunce of doubtfull iudgementes , yet nowe I am become so bashfull that I coulde rather bee content too leese the prayse of my follyes , than too hazarde the misconceyte of the graue and graye headed Iudges . But too confesse a truthe vntoo you right reuerende ( with whome I maye not dissemble in cases whiche so generally doe touche all menne ) I was the rather contented too see them imprinted for these sundrie considerations .

First , for that I haue seene dyuerse Authours , ( both learned and well learned ) which after they haue both reformed their liues , and conuerted their studies , haue not yet disdeyned to reade the Poems which they let passe their pennes in youth . For it seemeth vntoo mee that in all ages Poetrie hath beene not onely permitted , but also it hath beene thought a right good and excellent qualitie .

Next vnto this , I haue alwayes bene of opinion , that it is not vnpossible eyther in Poemes or in Prose too write both compendiously , and perfectly in our Englishe tongue . And therefore although I chalenge not vnto my selfe the name of an English Poet , yet may the Reader finde oute in my wrytings , that I haue more faulted in keeping the olde English wordes ( quamuis iam obsoleta ) than in borowing of other languages , such Epithetes and Adiectiues as smell of the Ink horne .

Thirdly , as I seeke aduauncement by vertue , so was I desirous that there might remaine in publike recorde , some pledge or token of those giftes wherwith it hath pleased the Almightie to endue me : To the ende that thereby the vertuous might bee incouraged to employ my penne in some exercise which might tende both to my preferment , and to the profite of my Countrey . For many a man which may like mine outwarde presence , might yet haue doubted whether the qualityes of my minde had bene correspondent to the proportion of my bodie .

Fourthly , bicause I had written sundry things which coulde not chuse but content the learned and Godlye Reader , therefore I hoped the same should serue as vndoubted proofe , that I had layde aside vanities , and delighted to exercise my penne in morall discourses , at least the one passing ( cheeke by cheek ) with the other , muste of necessitie persuade both the learned , and the light minded , that I coulde aswell sowe good graine , as graynes or draffe . And I thought not meete ( beeing intermingled as they were ) to cast away a whole bushell of good seede , for two or three graynes of Darnell or Cockle .

Lastly , I persuaded my selfe that as in the better sort of the same I shoulde purchase good lyking with the honourable aged : So euen in the worst sorte , I might yet serue as a myrrour for vnbrydled youth , to auoyde those perilles which I had passed . For little may he do which hath escaped the rock or the sandes , if he cannot waft with his hande to them that come after him .

These consideration● ( right reuerend ) did first moue me to consent that these Poemes shoulde passe in print . For recapitulation whereof , and to answere vnto the obiections that may bee giuen : I say to the first that I neither take example of wanton Ouid , doting Nigidius , nor foolish Samocratius . But I delight to thinke that the reuerend father Theodore Beza , whose life is worthily become a lanterne to the whole worlde , did not yet disdaine too suffer the continued publication of such Poemes as he wrote in youth . And as he termed them at last Poëmata castrata , So shal your reuerend iudgements beholde in this seconde edition , my Poemes gelded from all filthie phrases , corrected in all erronious places , and beautified with addition of many moral examples .

To the seconde , although I be sometimes constreyned for the cadence of rimes , or per licentiam Poeticam , to vse an ynkehorne terme , or a straunge word : Yet hope I that it shall be apparant I haue rather regarde to make our natiue language commendable in it selfe , than gay with the feathers of straunge birdes .

To the thirde reason may be obiected , that if I were so desirous to haue my capacitie knowne , I shoulde haue done much better to haue trauelled in some notorious peece of worke , which might generally haue spred my commendation . The which I confesse . But yet is it true that I must take the Foord as I finde it : Sometimes not as I woulde , but as I may And since the ouersight of my youth had brought mee farre behinde hande and indebted vnto the world , I thought good in the meane time to pay as much as I had , vntill it might please God better to inable me . For commonly the greediest creditor is appeased , if he see his debitor willing to pay when he hath any thing . And therefore being busied in martiall affayres ( whereby also I sought some aduauncement ) I thought good to notifie vnto the worlde before my returne , that I coulde as well persuade with Penne , as pearce with launce or weapon : So that yet some noble minde might be incouraged both to exercise me in time of peace , and to emploie mee in time of seruice in warre .

To the fourth and last considerations , I had alledged of late by a right reuerende father , that although in deede out of euerie floure the industrious Bee may gather honie , yet by proofe the Spider thereout also sucks mischeeuous poyson . Wherevnto I can none otherwise answere , but that he who will throw a stone at euerie Dogge which barketh , had neede of a great satchell or pocket . And if the learned iudgements and honest mindes doe both construe my doings aright , and take therein either councell or commoditie , then care I the lesse what the wicked conceyue of my conceytes . For I esteeme more the prayse of one learned Reader , than I regard the curious carping of ten thousande vnlettered lettered tattlers .

To conclude ( right reuerend ) as these considerations did specially moue me at first to consent to the imprinting of these posies , so nowe haue I yet a further consideration which moueth mee most earnestly to sue for this second edition or publishing of the same . And that is this . I vnderstande that sundrie well disposed mindes haue taken offence at certaine wanton wordes and sentences passed in the fable of Ferdinando Ieronimi , and the Ladie Elinora de Valasco , the which in the first edition was termed The aduentures of master F. I. And that also therwith some busie coniectures haue presumed to thinke that the same was indeed written to the scandalizing of some worthie personages , whom they woulde seeme therby to know . Surely ( right reuerend ) I smile to see the simplicitie of such , who being indeed starke staring blind , would yet seeme to see farre into a milstone . And the rather I scorne their rash iudgements , for that in talking with .xx. of them one after another , there haue not two agreed in one coniecture . Alas , alas , if I had bene so foolishe as to haue passed in recitall a thing so done in deede , yet all the world might thinke me verie simple if I woulde call Iohn , Iohn , or Mary , Mary . But for the better satisfying of all men vniuersally , I doe here protest vnto you ( reuerend ) euen by the hope of my saluation , that there is no liuing creature touched or to be noted therby . And for the rest you shall find it now in this second imprinting so turquened and turned , so clensed from all vnclenly wordes , and so purged from the humor of inhumanitie , as percase you woulde not iudge that it was the same tale . For although I haue bin heretofore contented to suffer the publication thereof , only to the ende men might see my Methode and maner of writing , yet am I nowe thus desirous to set it forth eftsoones , to the ende all men might see the reformation of my minde . And that all suspitions may be suppressed and throughly satisfied , by this mine vnfeined protestation which I make vnto you in that behalfe . Finally , were it not that the same is alreadie extant in such sort as hath moued offence , I should rather be content to cancel it vtterly to obliuion , then thus to returne it in a new patched cote . And for full proofe of mine earnest zeale in Gods seruice , I require of you ( reuerende ) most instantly , that if hereby my skill seeme sufficient to wade in matters of greater importance , you will then vouchsafe to employ mee accordingly . Surely you shall finde me no lesse readie to vndertake a whole yeares trauaile in anie worke which you shall thinke me able to ouercome , than I haue beene willing heretofore to spende three houres in penning of an amorous Sonnet . Euen so being desirous that all men generally ( and you especially ) should conceiue of me as I meane , I haue thus farre troubled your lerned eies with this plaine Epistle , written for my purgation , in matters whiche ( else ) might both haue offended you , and giuen great batterie to the ramparts of my poore credite . The God of peace vouchsafe to gouerne and product you , and me , and all his , in quiet of conscience , and strength of spirit . Amen . From my poore house at Waltamstow in the Forest , this last day of Ianuarie . 1574.

To al yong Gentlemen , and generally to the youth of England , George Gascoigne Esquire by birth , and Souldiour by profession , wisheth increase of knowledge in all vertuous exercises .

GAllant Gentlemen , and lustie youthes of this my natiue Countrey , I haue here ( as you see ) published in print suche Posies and rymes as I vsed in my youth , the which for the barbarousnesse of the stile may seeme worthlesse , and yet for the doubtfulnesse of some darke places they haue also seemed ( heretofore ) daungerous . So that men may iustly both condemne me of rashnesse , and wonder at my simplicitie in suffering or procuring the same to be imprinted .

A yong man well borne , tenderly fostered , and delicately accompanied , shall hardly passe ouer his youth without falling into some snares of the Diuell , and temptations of the flesh . But a man of middle yeares , who hath to his cost experimented the vanities of youth , and to his perill passed them : who hath bought repentance deare , and yet gone through with the bargaine : who seeth before his face the tyme past lost , and the rest passing away in post : Such a man had more neede to be well aduised in his doings , and resolute in his determinations . For with more ease and greater fauour may we answere for tenne madde follies committed in grene youth , than one sober ouersight escaped in yeares of discretion . Lycurgus the good princely Philosopher , ordeyned that if an olde man perceiuing a yong man to commit any dishonestie ; did not rebuke but suffer him : the aged shoulde be chastised , and the yong man should be absolued .

All this rehearsed and considered , you may ( as I say ) growe in some doubt , whether I were worse occupied in first deuising , or at last in publishing these toies & pamphlets : and much the rather , for that it is a thing commonly seene , that ( nowe adayes ) fewe or no things are so well handled , but they shall bee carped at by curious Readers , nor almost any thing so well ment , but may bee muche misconstrued .

And heerewithall I assure my selfe , that I shall bee generally condemned as a man verie lightly bent , and rather desyrous to continue in the freshe remembraunce of my follyes , than content too cancell them in obliuion by discontinuance : especially since in a house where many yong children are , it hath bene thought better pollicie quite to quench out the fire , than to leaue any loofe cole in the imbers , wherewith Babes may play and put the whole edifice in daunger .

But my lustie youthes , and gallant Gentlemen , I had an intent farre contrarie vntoo all these supposes , when I fyrst permitmitted the publication heereof . And bycause the greatest offence that hath beene taken thereat , is , least your mindes might heereby become enuenomed with vanities , therefore vnto you I will addresse my tale , for the better satisfying of common iudgements . And vnto you I will explane , that which being before mistically couered , and commonly misconstrued , might be no lesse perillous in seducing you , than greeuous euidence for to proue mee guiltie of condemnation .

Then to come vnto the matter , there are three sortes of men which ( beeing wonderfully offended at this booke ) haue founde therein three maner of matters ( say they ) verie reprehensible . The men are these : curious Carpers , ignorant Readers , and graue Philosophers . The faults they finde are , Iudicare in the Creede : Chalke for Cheese : and the common infection of Loue . Of these three sorts of men and matters , I do but very little esteeme the two first . But I deeply regarde the thirde . For of a verie troth , there are one kinde of people nowadayes which will mislyke any thing , being bred ( as I thinke ) of the spawne of a Crab or Creuish , which in all streames and waters will swimme eyther sidewayes , or flat backwards : and when they can indeede finde none other fault , will yet thinke Iudicare verie vntowardlye placed in the Creede . Or ( beeing a simple Sowter ) will finde fault at the shape of the legge : or if they be not there stopped , they wil not spare to step vp higher , and say , that Apelles paynted Dame Venus verie deformed or euill fauoured .

Of this sort I make small accounte , bycause indeede they seeke a knotte in the Rushe , and woulde seeme to see verie farre in a Mylstone .

There are also certaine others , who ( hauing no skill at all ) will yet be verie busie in reading all that may bee read , and thinke it sufficient if ( Parrot like ) they can rehearse things without booke : when within booke they vnderstande neyther the meaning of the Authour , nor the sense of the figuratiue speeches , I will forbeare to recyte examples by any of mine owne doings . Since all comparisons are odious , I will not say how much the areignment and diuorce of a Louer ( being written in ieast ) haue bene mistaken in sad earnest . It shall suffice that the contentions passed in verse long sithence , betwene maister Churchyard and Camell , were ( by a blockheaded reader ) construed to be indeed a quarell betwene two neighbors . Of whom that one hauing a Camell in keping , and that other hauing charge of the Churchyard , it was supposed they had grown to debate , bicause the Camell came into the Churchyarde . Laugh not at this ( lustie yonkers ) since the pleasant dittie of the noble Erle of Surrey ( beginning thus : In winters iust returne ) was also construed to be made indeed by a Shepeherd . What shoulde I stande much in rehersall how the L. Vaux his dittie ( beginning thus : I loth that I did loue ) was thought by some to be made vpon his death bed ? and that the Soulknill of M. Edwards was also written in extremitie of sicknesse ? Of a truth ( my good gallants ) there are such as hauing only lerned to read English , do interpret Latin , Greke , French and Italian phrases or metaphors , euen according to their owne motherly conception and childish skill . The which ( bicause they take Chalke for Cheese ) shall neuer trouble me , whatsoeuer fault they finde in my doings .

But the third sort ( beeing graue Philosophers , and finding iust fault in my doings at the common infection of loue ) I must needes alledge suche iuste excuse as may counteruayle their iuste complaynts . For else I shoulde remayne woorthie of a seuere punishment . They wysely considering that wee are all in youth more apt to delight in harmefull pleasures , then to disgest wholesome and sounde aduice , haue thought meete to forbid the publishing of any ryming tryfles which may serue as whetstones to sharpen youth vnto vanities .

And for this cause , finding by experience also , how the first Copie of these my Posies hath beene verie much inquired for by the yonger sort : and hearing likewise that ( in the same ) the greater part hath beene written in pursute of amorous enterpryses , they haue iustly conceyued that the continuance thereof hath beene more likely to stirre in all yong Readers a venemous desire of vanitie , than to serue as a common myrrour of greene and youthfull imperfections . Wherevnto I must confesse , that as the industrious Bee may gather honie out of the most stinking weede , so the malicious Spider may also gather poyson out of the fayrest floure that growes .

And yet in all this discourse I see not proued , that either that Gardener is too blame which planteth his Garden full of fragrant floures neyther that planter to be dispraysed : which soweth all his beddes with seedes of wholesome herbes : neyther is that Orchard vnfruitfull , which ( vnder show of sundrie weedes ) hath medicinable playsters for all infirmities . But if the Chirurgian which should seeke Sorrell to rypen an Vlcer , will take Rewe which may more inflame the Impostume , then is hee more to blame that mistooke his gathering , than the Gardener which planted aright , and presented store and choyse to be taken . Or if the Phisition will gather hote Perceley in stead of cold Endiue , shall he not worthily beare the burthen of his owne blame ?

To speake English , it is your vsing ( my lustie Gallants ) or misvsing of these Posies that may make me praysed or dispraysed for publishing of the same . For if you ( where you may learne to auoyd the subtile sandes of wanton desire ) will runne vpon the rockes of vnlawfull lust , then great is your folly , and greater will growe my rebuke . If you ( where you might gather wholesome hearbes to cure your sundrie infirmities ) will spende the whole day in gathering of sweete smelling Posies , much will be the time that you shal mispende , and much more the harme that you shall heape vpon my heade . Or if you will rather beblister your handes with a Nettle , then comfort your senses by smelling to the pleasant Marioram , then wanton is your pastime , and small will be your profite .

I haue here presented you with three sundrie sortes of Posies : Floures , Hearbes , and Weedes . In which diuision I haue not ment that onely the floures are to bee smelled vnto , nor that onely the Weedes are to be reiected . I terme some Floures , bycause being indeed inuented vpon a verie light occasion , they haue yet in them ( in my iudgement ) some rare inuention and Methode before not commonly vsed . And therefore ( beeing more pleasant than profitable ) I haue named them Floures .

The seconde ( being indeede morall discourses , and reformed inuentions , and therefore more profitable than pleasant ) I haue named Hearbes .

The third ( being Weedes ) might seeme to some iudgements , neither pleasant nor yet profitable , and therefore meete to bee cast away . But as many weedes are right medicinable , so may you find in this none so vile or stinking , but that it hath in it some vertue if it be rightly handled . Mary you must take heede how you vse them . For if you delight to put Hemlocke in your fellowes pottage , you may chaunce both to poyson him , and bring your selfe in perill . But if you take example by the harmes of others who haue eaten it before you , then may you chaunce to become so warie , that you will looke aduisedly on all the Perceley that you gather , least amongst the same one braunch of Hemlock might anoy you .

I assure you , my yong blouds , I haue not published the same to the intent that other men hereafter might be infected with my follies forepassed . For though it be a comfort in miserijs habere consortem , yet is it small consolation to a fellon , to haue a Coyner hanged in his companie . And I assure you ( although you will think it straunge ) that I haue not caused them to bee imprinted for anie vaine delight which I haue ( my selfe ) therein conceyued . For the most of them being written in my madnesse , might haue yeelded then more delight to my frantike fansie to see them published , than they now do accumulate cares in my minde to set them forth corrected : and a deformed youth had bene more likely to set them to sale long sithence , than a reformed man can be able now to protect them with simplicitie .

The scope of mine intent , and the marke whereat I shoote is double . I meane grounded vpon two sundrie causes : the one that being indebted vnto the worlde ( at the least fiue thousande dayes verie vainly spent ) I may yeeld him yet some part of mine account in these Poemes . Wherein as he may finde great diuersitie both in stile and sense , so may the good bee incouraged to set mee on worke at last , though it were noone before I sought seruice . The other reason is , that bicause I haue ( to mine owne great detriment ) mispent my golden time , I may serue as ensample to the youthfull Gentlemen of England , that they runne not vpon the rocks which haue brought me to shipwracke . Beware therefore , lustie Gallants , howe you smell to these Posies . And learne you to vse the talent which I haue highly abused . Make me your myrrour . And if hereafter you see me recouer mine estate , or reedifie the decayed walls of my youth , then beginne you sooner to builde some foundation which may beautifie your Pallace . If you see me sinke in distresses ( notwithstanding that you iudge me quick of capacitie ) then lerne you to mainteyne your selues swimming in prosperitie , and eschue betymes the whirlepoole of misgouernment .

Finally , I beseech you , and coniure you , that you rather encourage me to accomplish some worthier trauaile , by seeing these Posies right smelled vnto , than discourage me from attempting other labours , when I shall see these first fruites reiected or misused . I haue corrected them from sundrie faultes . Which if they had not brought suspition in the first copie , be you then out of doubt you had neuer bene troubled with these seconde presents , nor persuaded to flourishe wisely with a two edged swoorde in your naked hands . But as I haue ment them well , so I craue of God , that they may both pleasure and profite you for the furtherance of your skill in any commendable enterprise .

From my poore house at Waltamstow in the Forest the second of Ianuarie . 1575

To the Readers generally a generall aduertisement of the Authour .

ALl that is written is written for our instruction , as the holy Apostle witnesseth to the Romaines in his .xv. Chapter . And in his ninth Chapter of his first Epistle to the Corinthians , hee glorieth that hee coulde ( as it were ) transforme himself into all professions , therby to winne all kinde of men to God : saying that with the Iewes he became a Iew : with them that were vnder the law , he seemed also vnder the lawe : with the feeble , he shewed himselfe feeble . And to conclude , he became all things to all men , to the ende that hee might thereby winne some to saluation . My Schoolemaster which taught me Grammer , woulde alwayes say that some schollers he woonne to studie by strypes , some other by fayre meanes , some by promises , some other by prayses , some by vainglorie , and some by verie shame . But I neuer hard him repent him that euer he had persuaded any scholler to become studious , in what sort soeuer it were that hee woonne him . For whether the braue Gennet be broken with the bitte , or with the snaffle , whither he be brought in awe with a Spurre , or with a wand , all is one if he proue readie and well mouthed .

Thus much I write ( gentle Reader ) to the ende that myne intent may appeare in publishing of these Posies . Wherein as there are many things morall , so are there also some verses more sauced with wantonnesse than with wisedome . And as there are some ditties which may please and delight the godly and grauer sort , so are there some which may allure the yonger sort vnto fond attempts . But what for that ? Hath Terence bene forbidden to be read , bicause his Comedies are rehearsals of many madde prankes played by wanton youthes ? No surely .

Paracelsus , and sundrie other Phisitions and Philosophers , declare , that in euerie thing naturall there is to be founde Salt , Oyle , and Brimstone . And I am of opinion , that in euery thing which is written ( the holy scriptures excepted ) there are to be founde wisedome , follie , emulation , and detraction . For as I neuer yet saw any thing so clerkly handled , but that therein might be found some imperfections : So coulde I neuer yet reade fable so ridiculous but that therein some morallitie might be gathered . And as the good writer shall be sure of some to bee maliced : so the bad shall neuer escape the byting tongues of slaunderers .

But to returne to my purpose : If in the hardest flint there may be found sparkes of liuely fire , and the most knottie peece of Box , may be wrought to a fayre Doogen hafte : let these fewe suffice to persuade thee , that I haue not procured the publication heereof to any ende , so much as that the youthful sort might therein take example , and the aged recreation .

Nowe if any ( misgouerning their owne wittes ) doe fortune to vse that for a Spurre , which I had heere appoynted for a Brydle , I can none otherwise lament it , but to say that I am not the first which hath bene misiudged . Truely ( gentle Reader ) I protest that I haue not ment heerein to displease any man , but my desire hath rather bene to content most men : I meane the diuine with godly Hymnes and Psalmes , the sober minde with morall discourses , and the wildest will with sufficient warning . The which if it so fall out , then shall I thinke my selfe right happie . And if it fall out otherwise , I shall yet neuer bee ashamed to become one of their corporation which reape floutes and reprehension for their trauayles .

But bicause these Posies growe to a great bundell , and thereof also the number of louing lynes exceedeth in the Superlatiue , I thought good to aduertise thee , that the most part of them were written for other men . And out of all doubt , if euer I wrote lyne for my selfe in causes of loue , I haue written tenne for other men in layes of lust . For I counte greater difference betweene loue and lust , than there is diuersitie betweene witte and wisedome : and yet witte and I did ( in youth ) make such a fray , that I feare his cosen wisedome will neuer become freendes with me in my age . Well , though my folly bee greater than my fortune , yet ouergreat were mine vnconstancie , if ( in mine owne behalfe ) I shoulde compyle so many sundrie Songs or Sonets . I haue heard of an honest plaine meaning Citizen , who ( being ouercharged with many matters in the lawe , and hearing of a common solicitor of causes in the Citie ) came home to comfort his wife , and tolde hir that he had heard of one which dwelt at Billingsgate , that coulde helpe all men . Eu●n so ( good Reader ) I was a great while the man which dwelt at Billingsgate . For in wanton delightes I helped all men , though in sad earnest I neuer furthered my selfe any kinde of way . And by that it proceedeth , that I haue so often chaunged my Posie or worde . For when I did compile any thing at the request of other men , if I had subscribed the same with mine owne vsuall mot or deuise , it might haue bewrayed the same to haue beene of my doing . And I was euer curious in that behalfe , as one that was lothe to bewray the follies of other men . And yet ( as you see ) I am not verie daungerous to lay my selfe wide open in view of the worlde . I haue also sundrie tymes chaunged mine owne worde or deuise . And no meruaile : For he that wandereth much in those wildernesses , shall seldome continue long in one minde .

Well , it were follie to bewayle things which are vnpossible to be recouered , sithence Had I wist doth seldome serue as a blasone of good vnderstanding . And therefore I will spende no more wordes in this Preface , but I pray thee to smell vnto these Posies , as Floures to comfort , Herbes to cure , and Weedes to be auoyded . So haue I ment them , and so I beseech thee Reader to accept them .

Farewell .

T.B. In prayse of Gascogines Posies . WE prayse the plough , that makes the fruitelesse soyle To bring forth corne , ( through helpe of heauenly might ) And eke esteeme the simple wretches toyle , Whose painefull handes doe labour day and night . We prayse the ground , whereon the herbes do grow , Which heale or helpe , our greeues and mortall paine , Yea weedes haue worth , wherein we vertue know , For natures Art , nothing hath made in vaine . We prayse those floures which please the secrete sense , And do content , the tast or smell of man , The Gardners paynes and worke we recompence , That skilfull is , or aught in cunning can . But much more prayse to Gascoignes penne is due , Whose learned hande doth here to thee present , A Posie full of Hearbes , and Flowers newe , To please all braynes , to wit or learning bent . Howe much the minde doth passe the sense or smell , So much these Floures all other do excell .

E.C. In prayse of Gascoignes Posies . IN gladsome Spring , when sweete and pleasant shoures Haue well renued , what winters wrath hath torne , And that we see , the wholesome smelling Floures , Begin to laugh rough winters wracke to scorne : If then by chaunce , or choyce of owners will , We roame and walke in place of rare delightes , And therein finde , what Arte or natures skill Can well set forth , to feede our hungrie sightes : Yea more , if then the owner of the soyle , Doth licence yeelde to vse all as our owne , And gladly thinkes , the fruites of all his toyle , To our behoofe to be well set and sowne . It cannot be , but this so great desart In basest breast doth b●eede this due regarde , With worlde of thankes , to prayse this friendly part , And wish that woorth mought pay a iust rewarde . Good Reader then , beholde what gallant spring This booke brings forth , of fruites of finest sortes , Be bolde to take , thy list of euerie thing , For so is ment . And for thy glad disportes The paine was tane : therefore lo this I craue , In his behalfe , that wrote this pleasant worke , With care and cost , ( and then most freely gaue His labours great , wherein great treasures lurke : To thine auayle ) let his desartes now binde thee , In woorde and deede , he may still thankfull finde thee .

M.C. commending the correction of Gascoignes Posies . THe Beares blinde whelpes , which lacke both nayles and heare , And lie like lumpes , in filthie farrowed wise , Do ( for a time ) most ougly beastes appeare , Till dammes deare tongue , do cleare their clozed eyes . The gadde of steele , is likewise blunt and blacke , Till file and fire , do frame it sharpe and bright : Yea precious stones , their glorious grace do lacke , Till curious hand , do make them please the sight . And so these floures , although the grounde were gay , Whereon they grew , and they of gallant hew , Yet till the badde were cullde and cast away , The best became the worse by such a crew . ( For my part ) then : I lyked not their smell , But as they be , I like them pretly well .

R.S. In prayse of Gascoignes Posies . THe pleasant plot wherein these Posies g●●w , May represent Parnassus springs indeede . Where Pallas with hir wise and learned crew , Did plant great store , and sow much cunning seede . That Goddesse then , on whom the Muses wayte , To garde hir grounde from greedie gathrers spoyle , Hath here ordeynde , by fine and close conceyte , A greene knight chiefe , and master of the soyle . Such badge beares he that beautified this booke With glorious shew , of sundrie gallant flowers . But since he first this labor vndertooke , He gleand thereout , ( to make the profite ours ) A heape of Hearbes , a sort of fruitfull seedes , A needefull salue , compound of needlesse weedes . Appendix . All these ( with more ) my freend here freely giues : Nor naked wordes , nor streyne of straunge deuise . But Gowers minde , which now in Gascoigne liues , Yeeldes heere in view , ( by iudgement of the wise ) His penne , his sworde , himselfe , and all his might , To Pallas schoole , and Mars in Princes right .

T. Ch. In prayse of Gascoignes Posies . THough goodnesse of the gold , needes no mans praise ye know , ( And euery coyne is iudgde and found , by weight , by stamp , or show ) Yet doth the prayse of men , giue gold a double grace , And makes both pearls and Iewels rich , desirde in euery place . The horse full finely formde , whose pace and traine is true , Is more esteemde for good report , than likte for shape and view . Yea sure , ech man himselfe , for all his wit and skill , ( If world bestow no lawde on him ) may sleepe in silence still . Fame shewes the value first , of euerie precious thing , And winnes with lyking all the brute , that doth the credit bring . And fame makes way before , to workes that are vnknowne And peoples loue is caried ther , where fame hir trump hath blown . A cunning workman fine , in Cloyster close may sit , And carue or paint a thousand things , and vse both art and wit , Yet wanting worldes renowne , may scape vnsought or seene : It is but fame that outruns all , and gets the goall I weene . The learned Doctors lawd , that heales where other harmes , By common prayse of peoples voyce , brings pacients in by swarmes . A goodly stately house , hath seldome any fame , Till world behold the buildings through , and people see the same . The Flowers and Posies sweete , in better price are held , When those haue praysde their vertues rare , that haue their odor smeld . So by these foresayd proofes , I haue a pardon free , To speake , to write , and make discourse , of any worke I see , That worthie is of prayse : for prayse is all we get . Present the worlde with labors great , the world is in your det , It neuer yeeldes rewarde , nor scarce iust prayse will giue : Then studie out to stand on fame , and striue by fame to liue . Our olde forefathers wise , saw long before these dayes , How sone faint world would fail deserts , and cold would wax our prayse . And knowing that disdeyne , for toyle did rather rise , Than right renowne ( whose golden buds , growes vp to starry skies ) Betooke their labors long , and euery act they did , Vnto the Gods , from whose deepe sight , no secret can be hid . And these good gracious Gods , sent downe from heauens hie , ( For noble minds ) an endlesse fame , that throw the world doth flie . Which fame is due to those , that seeke by new deuice , To honor learning euery way , and Vertue bring in price . From Knowledge gardeyn gay , where science sowes hir seedes , A pretie Posie gathered is , of Flowers , Hearbes , and Weedes . The Flowers by smel are found , the hearbs their goodnes showes , The Weedes amid both hearbs & flowers , in decent order growes . The soft and tender nose , that can no weedes abide , May make his choise of holesome hearbes , whose vertues well are tride . The fine and flowing wittes , that feede on straunge delites , May tast ( for seasning daintie mouthes ) the bitter weede that bites . The well disposed minde , and honest meaning man , Shall finde ( in floures ) proude Peacoks plumes , and feathers of the Swan . The curst and crabbed Carle , that Posies flings away , By this ( perhaps ) may find some cause , with prettie floures to play . The kinde and louing worme , that woulde his ladie please , My light on some such medcin here , shal do them both much ease . The Lad that lykes the schoole , and will good warning take : May snatch some rules oute of this booke , that may him doctor make . The hastie trauayling head , that flies to foreyne place , May wey by this what home is woorth , and stay his rouing race . The manly courage stoute , that seeketh fame full farre , Shall find by this how sweete is peace , and see how soure is warre . This Posie is so pickt , and choysely sorted throw , There is no Flower , Herbe , nor Weede , but serues some purpose now . Then since it freely comes , to you for little cost , Take well in worth these paynes of him , that thinkes no labor lost : To do his countrie good , as many others haue , Who for their toyles a good report , of worlde did onely craue . Grudge not to yeeld some fame , for fruites that you receyue , Make some exchaunge for franke good will , some signe or token leaue , To shew your thankfull harts . For if you loue to take , And haue a conscience growne so great , you can no gift forsake , And cannot giue againe , that men deserue to reape , Adieu we leaue you in the hedge , and ore the stile we leape . And yet some stile or verse , we after shape in ryme , That may by arte shewe you a Glasse , to see your selues in tyme . Thus wish I men their right : and you that iudge amisse , To mend your minds , or frame your Muse , to make the like of this .

G.W. In prayse of Gascoigne , and his Posies . REader rewarde nought else , but onely good report , For all these pleasant Posies here , bound vp in sundrie sort . The flowers fayre and fresh , were set with painefull toyle , Of late in Gascoignes Garden plot , a passing pleasant soyle . Now weedes of little worth , are culde from out the rest , Which he with double paine , did work , to gleane the bad from best , The state is very straunge , and fortune rare in vse , Whose heauie happe he neither helpes , nor blazeth their abuse . In thundring verse he wrayes , where highest mindes be thrall , Where mischeefe seekes to rayse it selfe , by force of others fall He pluckes the visour of , from maskes of peeuish pride , And wrayes what sowre ( in sweet pretence ) the coustly corts can hide . In euerie gallant flower , he setteth forth to show , Of Venus thralles , the hap , the harme , the want , the weale , the woe . He finely findes their faultes , whose welth doth foster wrong , Who toucheth sinne ( without offence ) must plainly sing his song . His loftie vaine in verse , his stately stile in prose , Foretelles that Pallas ment by him , for to defende hir foes . Wherwith to Mars his might , his lustie limmes are knit , ( A sight most rare ) that Hectors mind , should match with Pallas wit . By proofe of late appeared ( how so reportes here ran ) That he in field was formost still , in spoyle the hynmost man . No backward blastes could bruse the valour of his thought , Although slie hap , forestoode his hope , in that he credite sought . In fortunes spight he straue , by vertues to aspire , Resolude when due deserts might mount , then he should haue his hire Thus late with Mars in field , a lustie Souldiour shewde , And now with peace in Pallas schoole , he freendly hath bestowde , On thee this heape of flowers , the fruites of all his toyle , Whereof if some but simple seeme , consider well the soyle . They grew not all at home , some came from forreyne fieldes , The which ( percase ) set here againe , no pleasant sauour yeeldes . Yet who mislyketh most , the worst will hardly mend , And he were best not write at all , which no man will offend .

P.B. to such as haue heretofore found fault with Gascoignes Posies . GAynst good deserts , both pride and enuie swell , As neede repines , to see his neighbour ritche : And slaunder chafes , where vertues prosper well , As sicke men thinke , all others health to mitch : Such filthie faultes , mens harts ofttymes inflame , That spight presumes , to stayne the worthies name . Are brutall things , transferred so to men ? Or men become more sauage than the beast ? We see the dogge , that kenelles in his den , ( For onely foode ) obeyes his Lordes behest : Yea more than that , remembers so reliefe , As ( in his kinde ) he mournes at masters griefe . If thou perceyue , whereto my tale intendes , Then ( slaunder ) cease to wrong a frendly wight , Who for his countreys good , his trauayle spendes , Sometime where blowes are giuen in bloudie fight : And other tymes he frames with skilfull pen , Such verse , as may content eche moulde of men . As nowe beholde , he here presentes to thee , The blossoms fayre , of three well sorted seedes . The first he feynes , fresh Flowers for to bee : The second Herbes , the last he termeth Weedes . All these , the soyle of his well fallowed brayne , ( With Pallas droppes bedewde ) yeeldes for thy gaine . The Hearbes to graue conceyt , and skilfull age , The fragrant Flowers to sent of yonger smell : The worthlesse Weedes , to rule the wantonrage Of recklesse heades , he giues : then vse them well : And gather ( friend ) but neyther spight nor spoyle , These Posies made , by his long painfull toyle .

A.W. In commendation of Gascoigne and his Posies . I Praysed once a booke ( whereby I purchast blame ) And venturde for to write a verse , before I knewe the same . So that I was deceyude , for when it came to light , The booke deserued no such worde , as I therein did wright . Thus lept I ere I lookt , and wandred ere I wist , Which giues ( me haggard ) warning since , to trust no falkners fist . And yet the booke was good , ( by hap and not my skill ) But not a Booke of such contentes , as might my wordes fulfill . Well now I neede not feare , these Posies here to prayse , Bicause I knew them euery flower , and where they grew alwayes . And sure for my conceyt , euen when they bloomed first , Me thought they smelt not much amisse , no not the very worst . Perhappes some daintie nose , no Batchlers button lykes , And some at Pimpernell and Pinkes , a slender quarell pykes . Some thinke that Gillyflowers , do yeeld a gelous smell , And some ( which like none herbe but Sage ) say Finkell tastes not well . Yet Finkell is of force , and Gillyflowers are good , And Pinks please some , and Pimpernell doth serue to steynch the blood : And Batchlers buttons be , the brauest to beholde , But sure that flower were best not grow , which can abide no colde . For slaunder blowes so shrill , with easterne enuious windes , And frosts of frumps so nip the rootes , of vertuous meaning minds That few good flowers can thriue , vnlesse they be protected , Or garded from suspitious blastes , or with some proppes erected . So seemeth by the wight , which gardened this grounde , And set such flowers on euery bed , that Posies here abounde . Yet some tongues cannot well , affoorde him worthie prayse , And by our Lorde they do him wrong , for I haue sene his wayes , And marked all his moodes , and haue had proofe likewise , That he can do as well in field , as pen can here deuise . Not many Monthes yet past , I saw his doughtie deedes , And since ( to heare what slaunder sayes ) my heauie hart it b●●edes . Yet Reader graunt but this , to trie before thou trust , So shalt thou find his flowers and him , both gallant , good and iust .

I.B. In commendation of Gascoignes Posies . THe sauerie sappes in Gascoignes Flowers that are , Which strayned were by loftie learnings lore : Could not content the surly for their share , Ne cause them once , to yeeld him thankes therefore ; Such was his hap , when first in hande he tooke , By labor long , to bring to light this Booke . Yet hath he not ( for all this ) seemde to cease , Those Flowers fresh againe in ground to set , And yeeld them earth to bring forth their increase , With other slippes from forraine soyle yfet . Which he hath gaynde by hazarde of his life , In bloudie broyles , where pouldred shot was rife . This endlesse toyle , contented well his minde , Hope helde the helme , his Fame on shore to set : His deepe desire , was friendship for to finde , At readers handes , he nought else sought to get : Wherefore ( doubtlesse ) they did him double wrong , Which F. and I. mysconstrued haue so long . Yet least I should passe from the golden ground , Of Gascoignes plat , wherein those Posies grew , I list to tell what Flowers there I found , And paint by penne , the honour to him dew : Since that his toyle doth well deserue the same , And sacred skill hath so aduaunst his name . First did I finde the Flower of Fetters frute , Whereof my selfe haue tasted to my paine : Then might I see the Greene knight touch the Lute , Whose cordes were coucht on frettes of deepe disdaine : And likewise there , I might perceyue full well , That fragrant Flower which Fansie bad farewell . In fine I found the flowre that Bellum hight , Sweete vnto those , of sillie simple sense , Yet sharpe and sowre , to those that do delight In martiall martes , for gaine of peuish pense . Such buddes full braue , good Gascoignes Garden gaue To all estates , which list the same to haue . Wherefore ( good friend ) flie enuies yrkesome yre , And tred the trace , which Reasons rule hath wrought , Yeeld not disdeyne to Gascoigne for his hyre , Whose brused braine for thee these flowers hath sought . Least if thou do , the blame on thee do light , Such friendly paynes to recompence with spight .

I.D. In prayse of Gascoigne and his Posies . IF Virgill how to till the Earth , to euery man doth tell , And Galen he in Phisicks arte doth many men excell , If Poets olde deseruen prayse , by paynting out aright , The frutes of vice , as Ouid doth , and many mo that wright , By learned skill of many things : If such exalt their name , And for their hyre , deserued prayse by trumpe of Ladie Fame : Why should the Authour of this booke then leese his due desart , Sith he so freendly here to vs , hath shewed his skilfull arte ? The healthsome herbs and flowers sweet , from weedes he hath diuided , The fruits of Giues in prison strong he hath right wel decided . Of warres also , and warriours to , euen like a Martiall knight , He hath discourst , and shewed the lottes , that therevpon do light : Virgill is dead , and Galen gone , with Poets many more : Yet workes of theirs be still aliue , and with vs kept in store . This Authour liues , and Gascoigne hights , yet once to die most sure , Alas the while that worthie wightes may not alwayes endure , But workes of his among the best , for euer more shall rest , When he in heauen shall take a place prepared for the blest .

The Printer in commendation of Gascoigne and his workes . CHawcer by writing purchast fame , And Gower got a worthie name : Sweete Surrey , suckt Pernassus springs , And Wiat wrote of wondrous things : Olde Rothfort clambe the stately Throne , Which Muses holde , in Hellicone . Then thither let good Gascoigne go , For sure his verse , deserueth so .

M.A. Perugino , a i lettori .

COnciosia la cosa che a'l bono vino , non ci bisogna la ghirlanda nientedi meno , l'opere virtuose meritano sempremai ogni laude , honore , & mercede . Tanto per essersi ( nella natura loro , & di se stesse ) piaceuole , grate , & piene , d'ogni contento , come per dare stimoli ad altrui d'imitar ' i loro vestigij . In tanto Io stimo l'opera presente vn'essempio chiaro & raro della gloria Inghlese . Quando vi si truouano non solamente Sonetti , Rime , Canzoni , & altre cose infinitamente piaceuole , ma con cio non vi mancano discorse tragiche , moderne , & pbylosophichae , della Guerra , delli stati , & della vera Sapienza . Tutte procedute d'vn tal Iuchiostro , che Io ( sendo forastiero ) lo truouo vn' Immitatore di Petrarcha , Amico d'Ariosto , & Parangon di Bocaccio , Aretino , & ogni altro Poéta quanto sia piu famoso & eccellente dell'etá nostra .

I. de B. aux lecteurs . CEux qui voiront , les Rymes de Gascoigne , ( Estants François ) se plaindront nuicts & iours Que la Beauté & l'odeur de ces floeurs , A cest heur ( de France ) par Gascoign , tant s'esloigne .

H.M. In Poemata Gascoigni Carmen . SI iam vena viris eadem , quae vatibus olim , Ingenioque pari possunt disponere partas Materias , pedibus si incedunt Carmina certis , Claudunturque suis numeris : Si turba sororum , Supplicibus potis est priscos inflare furores , Sed si quod magis est , nostri sua themata texant , Consona scripturis sacris , nec dissona rectis Moribus : amaenos , sed quae cognoscere flores Virtutis , quae docent dulces colligere fructus . Si fictas fabulas , falsique Cupidinis artes Cum Venere excludunt , ( vt docta indigna poesi ) Cur non censemus celebrandos iure Coronis Aequales virtute viros , aequalibus esse ? O ingrata tuis non reddere tanta peritis Praemia , quanta suis dignarunt prima Poetis Saecula , num laudes tantas licet addere linguis Romanae primum , ( quae nil tamen attulit vltra Vtile ) germanas , vtfas sit spernere gemmas ? Sed vitium hec patriae est & peculiariter Anglis Conuenit , externis quaecunque feruntur ab oris , Anteferre suis . Age si sic sapitis , Ecce , Anglia quos profert flores Gasconia pressit .

B.C. In Poemata Gasconi Carmen . MEns generosa solet generosos edere flores , Incassu●nque suos , non sinit ire dies : Haec tua Gasconi laus est , mercede remota Hac , friget virtus , haec tibi sufficiat . Haec tibi ( seu Belgas repetas , Martemque ferocem , Seu patriam & Musas ) inuiolata Comes .

K.D. In eundem , Carmen . Vlderat huius : ef. l. Titulum nomenque Poaeta , Laetaque vix potuit , dicere lingua bene est : Mox vbi quae voluit , libro non vidit in illo , Magnaque quae fuerat , pars ibi parua fuit , Quàm male ait socio , Martem secreuit amore ? Qui bene amat pugnat , qui bene pugnat amat .

Eiusdem de eodem . QVi quondam graue Martis opus , sub gente nefanda , Militiamque tuli , non vno nomine duram Arma quibus laetabar , Ego Tritonia Pallas , Pallas ego trado arma tibi , & nunc per iuga Cynthi Per sacrum te Hellicona tuus , per Thessala Tempe Insequor , aeternumque sequar , dum sydera mundum , Dum deus aeternos , certo moderamine Coelos Dirigat , aethereasque animas & sydera Coeli . O quae felices caelesti nectare mentes Perfundis , Diuûmque doces nos dicere Cantus , Quale● Aonias inter celiberrima turbas Calliopaea canit , vel gestis Clio loquendis Nata . ( Nouenarum pars ingens Clio sororum . ) Da Regina tuis ad●●is , antrisque recepto Cantari vates inter , d●cique Britannos .

P. W. In Gascoignum , Carmen . SVnt quorum mentes , tenebrae , Caligoque turpis Infuscant , vates qui tetigisse timent . Tu pete florentem , facunde Poëta Corollam , Excultis pateat , versilus iste locus .

G.H. pro eodem . QVisquis es hac nostri qui gaudes parte laboris , Iudicio nobis , cantus adesto precor . Perlege scripta prius , quàm pergas scripta probare , Et bene perlectis , inde videbis opus . Nam nihil in titulum , iuuat inspexisse libelli , Si vis materiae sit tibi nota minus . Non etenim primò veniunt fundamina rerum , Sed sunt in varijs , inspicienda locis . Perge igitur quo sit pergendum , fine reperto , In tenebris tum quae dilituêre proba .

E. H. in poëmata Gascoigni , Carmen . SI quam Romani laudem moeraêre Poëtae Sique fuit Graijs debitus vllus honos , Graecia si quondam vatem suspexit Homerum , Si domitrix magni Roma Maronis opus , Cur non Gasconij facunda poëmata laudat Anglia ? & ad coeli sydera summa ferat ? Carmina nam cum re , sic consentire videntur , Egregium & praestans , vt videatur opus . Dixerit has aliquis Musas nimis esse iocosas , Et iuuenum facile possenocere animis . Non ita , ni forsan , velit ijsdem lector abuti , Non obsunt , pura si modò mentelegas .

The opinion of the aucthor himself after all these commendations . WHat néede I speake my self , since other say so much ? Who seme to praise these poesies so , as if ther wer none such ? But sure my silly self , do find therein no smell , Which may deserue such passing prayse , or seeme to taste so well , This boone I onely craue , that Readers yet will deigne ( If any weede herein do séeme , his fellow flowres to stayne ) Then reade but others workes , and marke if that they finde , No toyes therein which may dislike , some modest readers minde ? Reade Virgills Pryapus , or Ouids wanton verse , Which he about Corinnaes couche , so clerkly can rehearse . Reade Faustoes filthy tale , in Ariostoes ryme , And let not Marots Alyx passe , without impeach of crime . These things considred well , I trust they will excuse This meize of mine , although she seem , such toyes somtimes to vse . Beléeue me Lordings all , it is a Poetes parte , To handle eche thing in his kinde , for therein lieth his arte : Lucillius ledde the daunce , and Horace made the lawe , That poetes by Aucthoritie , may call ( A dawe ) A Dawe , And eke ( a hore ) A Hore , but yet in cleanly wordes , So that the vice may be rebukt , as though it were in bourdes : This phrase sometimes I vse , which ( if it be a faute ) Condempne not all the rest therfore , that here in verse is taught , Smell euery poesie right , and you therein shall finde , Fresh flowres , good hearbes , & holsome wéedes , to please a skilfull minde . Tam Marti , quàm Mercurio . FINIS .

His vltimum vale to Amorous verse . KInde Erato , and wanton Thalia , ( Whose name my muze , deuoutly did inuoke ) Adieu deare dames , Caliope sings alia , Which are more worth , and smell not of the smoke . And if blinde Cupide , chaunce to stryke a stroke , I vowe my verse , Apocrypha shal be , In silence shutte , that none ( but you ) may sée . Tam Marti , quàm Mercurio . FINIS .

❧ FLOWERS . Tam Marti quàm Mercurio .

¶ In this diuision are conteyned : The Anotamie of a Louer . j. The areignemente of a Louer . Fol ij . The passions of a Louer . iij. The diuorce of a Louer . vij . The Lullabie of a louer . viij . The lamentation of a Louer . x. The lookes of a Louer enamored . xj . The lookes of a Louer forsaken . xvij . The recantation of a louer . xvij Praise of Lady Sands . xviij . Praise of the Lady Grey . xx . Praise of the Authors mistresse . xx . Gascoigns good morow . xxj Gascoigns good night . xxiiij Gascoigns Deprofundis . xxvj Gascoig . memories . xxxiij . An Epitaph vpon Captaine Bourcher . xlj . A deuise of a Maske . xliij . The refusall of a Louer . lv . Pryde in Court . lvj . Despised things mai liue . 58 In trust is treason . lix . The constancie of a Louer . Fol. lx . The frute of Foes . lxj . A Louer once warned and twice taken . lxj . A Louer encoraged by former examples . lxiij . The Historie of Dan Bartholmewe of Bathe . lxv . The frutes of Warre . cxiij .

Faultes escaped in the Weedes :

Fol. Line . Faultes . Correction . 204 13 allgiance allegeaunce 211 17 like I hope I like hope 214 24 contation contentation 216 28 merrye married Ibid. 31 flattring flitting 218 4 had shewed had to plainely shewed Ibid. 7 called calling Ibid. 30 disdaned distayned 220 14 had and 222 30 in of 223 7 And So 224 7 cape cappe Ibid. 8 Crowe Crowne 229 16 still foyle 232 34 braunce braunche 235 19 possessed professed 238 11 that other 240 5 Elaminia Flaminia 242 11 and an Ibid. 30 zoreactes Zoroastes Ibid. 20 doe did 249 13 builded blinded Ibid. 16 pricke pricke such 258 5 gentelman gentlewoman 361 6 quibbes quippes 271 31 la mano las manos 275 2 swell aswell 276 4 Fraunces china Frauncischina Ibid. 8 occurments occurrentes 278 6 that I I that 284 8 But that 285 14 this those

Flowers .

❧ The Anatomye of a Louer . TO make a Louer knowne , by plaine Anatomie , You louers all that list beware , loe here behold you me . Who though mine onely lookes , your pittie wel might moue , Yet euery part shall playe his part , to paint the panges of loue . If first my feeble head , haue so much matter left , If fansies raging force haue not , his féeble skill bereft . These lockes that hang vnkempt , these hollowe dazled eyes , These chattering téeth , this trembling tongue , well tewed with carefull cries . These wan and wrinkled chéekes , wel washt with waues of woe , Maye stand for patterne of a ghost , where so this carkasse goe . These shoulders they sustaine , the yoake of heauy care , And on my brused broken backe , the burden must I beare . These armes quite braunfalne are , with beating on my brest , This right hand weary is to write , this left hand craueth rest : These sides enclose the forge , where sorrowe playes the smith , And hote desire , hath kindled fire , to worke this mettall with . The Anuile is my heart , my thoughtes they strike the stroake , My lights and lunges like bellowes blow , & sighes ascend for smoake . My secréete partes are so with secréete sorrowe soken , As for the secréete shame thereof , deserues not to be spoken , My thighes , my knées , my legges , and last of all my féete , To serue a louers turne , are so vnable and vnméete , That scarce they sustaine vp , this restlesse body well , Vnlesse it be to sée the boure , wherein my loue doth dwell , And there by sight eftsoone , to féede my gazing eye , And so content my hungrie corps , tyll dollours doe me dye : Yet for a iust reward of loue so dearely bought , I pray you saye , loe this was he , whome loue had worne to nought . Euer or neuer .

¶ The arraigment of a Louer . AT Beautyes barre as I dyd stande , When false suspect accused mée , George ( quod the Iudge ) holde vp thy hande , Thou art arraignde of Flatterye : Tell therefore howe thou wylt bée tryde ? Whose iudgement here wylt thou abyde . My Lorde ( quod I ) this Lady here , Whome I estéeme aboue the rest , Doth knowe my guilte if any were : Wherefore hir doome shall please me best , Let hir bée Iudge and Iurour boathe , To trye mée guiltlesse by myne oathe . Wyll is dame bewties chiefe Iustice of Oyre and terminer . Quod Beautie , no , it fitteth not , A Prince hir selfe to iudge the cause : Wyll is our Iustice well you wot , Appointed to discusse our Lawes : If you wyll guiltlesse séeme to goe , God and your countrey quitte you so . Then crafte the cryer cal'd a quest , Of whome was falshoode formost féere , A packe of pickethankes were the rest , Which came false witnesse for to beare , The Iurye suche , the Iudge vniust , Sentence was sayde I should be trust . Ielous the Iayler bound mée fast , To heare the verdite of the byll , George ( quod the Iudge ) nowe thou art cast , Thou must goe hence to heauie hill , And there be hangde all but the head , God rest thy soule when thou art dead . Downe fell I then vpon my knée , All flatte before Dame Beauties face , And cryed , good Ladye pardon mée , Which here appeale vnto your grace , You knowe if I haue béene vntrue , It was in too much praysing you . And though this Iudge doe make suche haste , To shead with shame my guiltlesse blood : Yet let your pittie first bée plaste , To saue the man that meant you good , So shall you shewe your selfe a Quéene , And I maye bée your seruaunt séene . ( Quod Beautie ) well : bicause I guesse , What thou dost meane hencefoorth to hée , Although thy faultes deserue no lesse , Than Iustice here hath iudged thée , Wylt thou be bounde to stynt all strife , And be true prisoner all thy lyfe ? Yea Madame ( quod I ) that I shall , Loe fayth and trueth my suerties : Common Bayll . Why then ( quod shée ) come when I call , I aske no better warrantise . Thus am I Beauties bounden thrall , At hir commaunde when shée doth call . Euer or neuer .

The passion of a Louer . I Smyle sometimes although my griefe be great , To heare and sée these louers paint their paine , And how they can in pleasaunt rimes repeate , The passing pangs , which they in fancies faine . But if I had such skyll to frame a verse , I could more paine than all their panges rehearse . Some saye they finde nor peace , nor power to fight , Which séemeth strange : but stranger is my state : I dwell in dole , yet soiorne with delight , Reposde in rest , yet weryed with debate . For flatte repulse , might well appease my wyll , But fancie fightes , to trye my fortune styll . Some other saye they hope , yet liue in dread , They friese , they flame , they flie aloft , they fall , But I , nor hope with happe to rayse my head , Nor feare to stoupe , for why , my gate is small . Nor can I friese , with cold to kyll my heart , Nor yet so flame , as might consume my smart . How liue I then , which thus drawe foorth my dayes ? Or tell me howe , I found this feuer first ? What fits I féele ? what distance ? what delayes ? What griefe ? what ease ? what lyke I best ? what worst ? These thinges they tell , which séeke redresse of paine , And so wyll I , although I coumpt it vaine . I liue in loue , euen so I loue to liue , ( Oh happie state , twise happie he that findes it ) But loue to life this cognisance doth geue , This badge this marke , to euery man that mindes it , Loue lendeth life , which ( dying ) cannot dye , Nor lyuing liue : and such a life leade I. The Sunny dayes which gladde the saddest wightes , Yet neuer shine to cleare my misty moone : No quiet sléepe , amidde the mooneshine nightes , Can close mine eyes , when I am woe begone . Into such shades my péeuishe sorrowe shrowdes , That Sunne and Moone , are styll to me in clowdes . And feuerlike I féede my fancie styll , With such repast , as most empaires my health , Which feuer first I caught by wanton wyll , When coles of kind dyd stirre my blood by stealth : And gazing eyes , in bewtie put such trust , That loue enflamd my liuer al with lust . My fits are lyke the feuer Ectick fits , There is in deede suche a kinde of feuer . Which one daye quakes within and burnes without , The next day heate within the boosoms sits , And shiuiring colde the body goes about . So is my heart most hote when hope is colde , And quaketh most when I most heate behold . Tormented thus without delayes I stand , All wayes in one and euermore shal be , In greatest griefe when helpe is nearest hand , And best at ease if death might make me frée : Delighting most in that which hurtes my heart , And hating change which might relieue my smart . Yet you deare dame : to whome this cure pertaines , Lenuoye . Deuise by times some drammes for my disease , A noble name shall be your greatest gaines , Whereof be sure , if you wyll worke mine ease . And though fond fooles set forth their fittes as fast , Yet graunt with me that my straunge passion past . Euer or neuer .

¶ A straunge passion of a Louer . AMid my Bale I hath in blisse , I swim in heauen , I sinke in hell : I find amends for euery misse , And yet my moane no tongue can tell . I liue and loue , what wold you more : As neuer louer liu'd before . I laugh sometimes with little lust , So iest I oft and féele no ioye : Myne ease is builded all on trust : And yit mistrust bréedes myne anoye . I liue and lacke , I lacke and haue : I haue and misse the thing I craue . These things séeme strange , yet are they trew . Beléeue me sweete my state is such , One pleasure which I wold eschew , Both slakes my grief and breedes my grutch . So doth one paine which I would shoon , Renew my ioyes where grief begoon . Then like the larke that past the night . In heauy sleepe with cares opprest : Yit when shee spies the pleasaunt light , She sends sweete notes from out hir brest . So sing I now because I thinke How ioyes approch , when sorrowes shrinke . And as fayre Philomene againe , Can watch and singe when other sleepe : And taketh pleasure in hir payne , To wray the woo that makes hir weepe . So sing I now for to bewray The lothsome life I lead alway . The which to thée ( deare wenche ) I write , That know'st my mirth , but not my moane : I praye God graunt thée déepe delight , To liue in ioyes when I am gone . I cannot liue , it wyll not bée : I dye to thinke to part from thée . Ferendo Natura .

¶ The Diuorce of a Louer . DIuorce me nowe good death , from loue and lingring life , That one hath bene my concubine , that other was my wife . In youth I liued with loue , she had my lustye dayes , In age I thought with lingering life to stay my wandering wais , But now abusde by both , I come for to complaine , To thée good death , in whom my helpe doth wholy now remain , My libell loe behold : wherein I doe protest , The processe of my plaint is true , in which my griefe doth rest . First loue my concubine ( whome I haue kept so trimme , Euen she for whome I séemd of yore , in seas of ioy to swimme : To whome I dare auowe , that I haue serued as well , And played my part as gallantly , as he that heares the hell ) She cast me of long since , and holdes me in disdaine , I cannot pranke to please hir nowe , my vaunting is but vaine . My writhled chéekes bewraye , that pride of heate is past , My stagring steppes eke tell the trueth , that nature fadeth fast , My quaking crooked ioyntes , are combred with the crampe , The boxe of oyle is wasted wel , which once dyd féede my lampe . The gréenesse of my yeares , doth wyther now so sore , Such a sect there is that desire no longer lyfe than whiles they are in loue . That lusty loue leapes quite awaye , and lyketh me no more , And loue my lemman gone , what lyking can I take ? In lothsome lyfe that croked croane , although she be my make ? Shée cloyes me with the cough , hir comfort is but cold , She bids me giue mine age for almes , wher first my youth was sold . No day can passe my head , but she beginnes to brall , No mery thoughts conceiued so fast , but she confounds them al. When I pretend to please , she ouerthwarts me still , When I would faynest part with hir , she ouerwayes my will . Be iudge then gentle death , and take my cause in hand , Consider euery circumstaunce , marke how the case doth stand . Percase thou wilte aledge , that cause thou canst none sée , But that I like not of that one , that other likes not me : Yea gentle iudge giue eare , and thou shalt see me proue , My concubine incontinent , a common whore is loue . And in my wyfe I find , such discord and debate , As no man liuing can endure the tormentes of my state . Wherefore thy sentence say , deuorce me from them both , Since only thou mayst right my wronges , good death nowe he not loath . But cast thy pearcing dart , into my panting brest , That I may leaue both loue and life , & thereby purchase rest . Haud ictus sapio .

¶ The Lullabie of a Louer . SIng lullaby , as women doe , Wherewith they bring their babes to rest , And lullaby can I sing to , As womanly as can the best . With lullaby they still the childe , And if I be not much beguild , Full many wanton babes haue I , Which must be stild with lullabie . First lullaby my youthfull yeares , It is nowe time to go to bed , For croocked age and hoary heares , Haue wone the hauen with in my head : With Lullaby then youth be still , With Lullaby content thy will , Since courage quayles , and commes behind , Go sleepe , and so beguile thy minde , Next Lullaby my gazing eyes , Which wonted were to glaunce apace . For euery Glasse maye nowe suffise , To shewe the furrowes in my face : With Lullabye then winke awhile , With Lullabye your lookes beguile : Lette no fayre face , nor beautie brighte , Entice you efte with vayne delighte . And Lullaby my wanton will , Lette reasons rule , nowe reigne thy thought , Since all to late I finde by skyll , Howe deare I haue thy fansies bought : With Lullaby nowe tak thyne ease , With Lullaby thy doubtes appease : For trust to this , if thou be styll , My body shall obey thy will . Eke Lullaby my louing boye , My little Robyn take thy rest , Since age is colde , and nothing coye , Keepe close thy coyne , for so is best : With Lullady be thou content , With Lullaby thy lustes relente , Lette others pay which hath mo pence , Thou art to pore for such expence . Thus Lullabye my youth , myne eyes , My will , my ware , and all that was , I can no mo delayes deuise , But welcome payne , let pleasure passe : With Lullaby now take your leaue , With Lullaby your dreames deceiue , And when you rise with waking eye , Remember then this Lullabye . Euer or Neuer .

The lamentation of a louer . NOw haue I found the waie , to wéepe & wayle my fill , Now can I ende my dolfull dayes , & so content my will . The way to weepe inough , for such as list to wayle , Is this : to go abord the ship , where pleasure beareth sayle . And there to marke the iestes , of euery ioyfull wight , And with what winde and waue they fléet , to nourish their delight . For as the striken Deare , that séeth his fellowes féede , Amid the lustie heard ( vnhurt , ) & féeles himselfe to bléede Or as the seely byrd , that with the Bolte is brusd , And lieth aloofe among the leaues , of al hir pheares refusd , And heares them sing full shrill , yet cannot she reioyce , Nor frame one warbling note to passe , out of hir mournfull voyce . Euen so I finde by proofe , that pleasure dubleth payne , Vnto a wretched wounded hart , which doth in woe , remaine . I passe where pleasure is , I heare some sing for ioye , I sée som laugh , som other daunce , in spight of darke anoy . But out alas my mind , amends not by their myrth , I déeme al pleasurs to be paine , that dwell aboue the earth . Such heauy humors féede , the bloud that lendes me breath , As mery medcins cannot serue , to keepe my corps from death . Spraeta tamen viuunt .

Certaine verses written to a Gentlewoman whome hee liked very wel , and yet had neuer any oportunity to discouer his affection , being alwayes bridled by ielouse lookes which attended them both , and therefore gessing by hir lokes , that she partly also liked him : he wrote in a booke of nirs as foloweth , being termed with the rest that follow the lokes of a louer enamoured . THou with thy lookes on whom I loke full ofte , And find there in great cause of déepe delight : Thy face is fayre , thy skin is smoth and softe , Thy lippes are swéet , thine eyes are cléere and bright , And euery part séemes pleasant in my sight . Yet wote thou well , those lokes haue wrought my wo , Bicause I loue to looke vpon them so . For first those lookes allurd mine eye to loke , And strayght mine eye stird vp my hart to loue : And cruell loue with déepe deceitfull hooke , Chokt vp my mind whom fancie cannot moue , Nor hope reléeue , nor other helpe behoue : But still to loke , and though I loke to much , Néedes must I loke bicause I see none such . Thus in thy lookes my loue and life haue hold , And with such life my death drawes on a pace : And for such death no medcine can be told , But loking still vpon thy louely face , Wherin are painted pitie , peace , and grace , Then though thy lokes should cause me for to dye , Néedes must I looke , bicause I liue therby . Since then thy lookes my lyfe haue so in thrall , As I can like none other lookes but thine : Lo here I yéelde my lyfe , my loue , and all Into thy hands , and all things else resigne , But libertie to gaze vpon thyne eyen . Which when I doe , then think it were thy part , To looke again , and linke with me in hart . Si fortunatus infoelix .

With these verses you shall iudge the quicke capacitie of the Lady : for she wrote thereunder this short aunswere .

Looke as long as you lyst , but surely if I take you looking , I will looke with you .

¶ And for a further proofe of this Dames quicke vnderstanding , you shall now vnderstande , that sone after this aunswere of hirs , the same Aucthour chansed to be at a supper in hir company , where were also hir brother , hir husband , and an old louer of hirs by whom shee had bene long suspected . Nowe , although there wanted no delicate viandes to content them , yet their chiefe repast was by entreglancing of lokes . For the Aucthour being stong with hotte affection , coulde none otherwyse relieue his passion but by gazing . And the Dame of a curteous enclination deigned ( nowe and then ) to requite the same with glancing at him . Hir olde louer occupied his eyes with watching : and her brother perceiuing all this coulde not abstaine from winking , whereby hee might putte his Syster in remembraunce , least she shoulde too much forget hir selfe . But most of all her husbande beholding the first , and being euyll pleased with the seconde , scarce contented with the thirde , and misconstruing the fourth , was constrayned to playe the fifth part in frowarde frowning . This royall banquet thus passed ouer , the Aucthor knowing that after supper they should passe the tyme in propounding of Ryddles , and making of purposes : contriued all this conceipt in a Riddle as followeth . The which was no soner pronounced , but shee coulde perfectly perceiue his intent , and draue out one nayle with another , as also enseweth .

His Ryddle . I Cast mine eye and sawe ten eyes at once , All séemelye set vppon one louely face : Twoo gaz'd , twoo glanc'd , twoo watched for the nonce , Twoo winked wiles , twoo fround with froward grace . Thus euerye eye was pitched in his place . And euerye eye which wrought eche others wo , Saide to it selfe , alas why lookt I so ? And euerye eye for ielousie did pine , And sigh'd and sayde , I would that eye were mine . Si fortunatus infoelix .

¶ In all this louelie company was not one that coulde and would expound the meaning hereof . At last the Dame hir selfe aunswered on this wise . Syr , quod she , because your darke speach is much to curious for this simple company , I wyl bee so bolde as to quit one question with another . And when you haue aunswered mine , it maye fall out peraduenture , that I shall somewhat the better iudge of yours .

Hir Question . WHat thing is that which swimmes in blisse . And yet consumes in burning griefe : Which being plaste where pleasure is , Can yet recouer no reliefe . Which sées to sighe , and sighes to sée , All this is one , what maye it bée :

¶ He held him selfe herewith contented : and afterwardes when they were better acquainted , he chaunsed once ( groping in hir pocket ) to find a letter of hir olde louers : and thynking it were better to wincke than vtterlye to put out his eyes , seemed not to vnderstande this first offence : but soone after finding a lemman ( the which he thought he sawe hir olde lemman put there ) he deuised therof thus , and deliuered it vnto hir in writing . I Grooped in thy pocket pretty peate , And found a Lemman which I looked not : So found I once ( which nowe I must repeate ) Both leaues and letters which I lyked not . Such hap haue I to finde and séeke it not , But since I sée no faster meanes to bind them , I wyll ( hencefoorth ) take Lemmans as I finde them .

The Dame within verie short space dyd aunswere it thus . A Lymone ( but no Lemmane ) Syr you found , For Lemmans beare their name to broade before : The which since it hath giuen you such a wound , That you séeme now offended very sore : Content your selfe you shall find ( there ) no more . But take your Lemmans henceforth where you lust , For I wyll shewe my letters where I trust .

¶ The lookes of a louer forsaken : written by a gentlewoman who passed by him with hir armes set bragging by hir sides , and lefte it vnfinished as followeth . WEre my hart set on hoygh as thine is bent , Or in my brest so braue and stout a will : Then ( long ere this ) I coulde haue bene content , With sharpe reueng thy carelesse corpes to kill . For why thou knowest ( although thou know not all ) What rule , what raygne , what power , what segnory , Thy melting minde did yéeld to me ( as thrall ) When first I pleasd thy wandring fantifie . What lingring lookes bewray'd thyne inward thought , What panges were publisht by perplexcitie , Such reakes the rage of loue in thée had wrought And no gramercie for thy curtesie . I list not vaunt , but yet I dare auowe ( Had bene my harmelesse hart as harde as thine ) I coulde haue bounde thée then for starting nowe , In bondes of bale , in pangs of deadly pyne . For why by profe the field is each to win , Where as the chiefteynes yéeld them selues in chaynes : The port or passage plaine to enter in , Where porters list to leaue the key for gaynes . But did I then deuise with crueltie , ( As tyrants do ) to kill the yéelding pray ? Or did I bragge and boast triumphauntly , As who should saye the field were mine that daye ? Did I retire my selfe out of thy sight To beat afresh the bulwarkes of thy brest ? Or did my mind in choyce of change delight , And render thée as reffuse with the rest ? No Tygre no , the lyon is not lewd , He shewes no force on seely wounded shéepe , &c.

Whiles he sat at the dore of his lodging , deuising these verses aboue rehersed , the same Gentlewoman passed by againe , and cast a longe looke towardes him , whereby he left his former inuention and wrote thus . HOwe long she lookt , that lookt at me of late , As who would say , hir lookes were all for loue : When God he knowes they came from deadly hate , To pinch me yit with pangs which I must proue . But since my lokes hir liking maye not moue , Looke where she likes , for lo this looke was cast , Not for my loue , but euen to see my last . Si fortunatus infoelix .

Another Sonet written by the same Gentlewoman , vppon the same occasion . I Lookt of late , and sawe thée loke askance , Vpon my dore , to sée if I satte there . As who should say : If he be there by chance , Yet maye he thinke I loke him euery where , No cruell no , thou knowest and I can tell , How for thy loue I layd my lokes a side : Though thou ( par case ) hast lookt and liked wel , Some newe founde lookes amide this world so wide . But since thy lookes my loue haue so in chaynd That to my lokes , thy liking now is past : Loke wh●re thou likest , and let thy hands be staynd , In true loues bloud , which thou shalt lack at last , So looke , so lack , for in these toyes thus tost , My lookes thy loue , thy lookes my life haue lost . Si fortunatus infoelix .

¶ To the same gentlewoman because she challenged the Aucthour for holding downe his head alwaies , and for that hee looked not vppon hir in wonted manner . YOu must not wonder though you thinke it straunge , To sée me holde my lowring head so lowe : And that myne eyes take no delyght to raunge , About the gleames which on your face doe growe . The mouse which once hath broken out of trappe , Is sildome tysed with the trustlesse bayte , But lyes aloofe for feare of more mishappe , And féedeth styll in doubte of deepe deceipte . The skorched flye which once hath scapt the flame , Wyll hardlye come to playe againe with fyre . Whereby I learne that greeuous is the game , Which followes fansie dazled by desire . So that I wynke or else holde downe my head , Because your blazing eyes my bale haue bred . Si fortunatus infoelix .

❧ The Recantacion of a Louer . NOw must I needes recant the wordes which once I spoke , Fond fansie fumes so nie my noose , I nedes must smel the smoke : And better were to beare a Faggot from the fire , Than wylfully to burne and blaze , in flames of vaine desire . You Iudges then giue eare , you people marke me well , I saye , both heauen and earth record the tale which I shall tell , And knowe that dread of death , nor hope of better hap , Haue forced or perswaded me to take my turning cap , But euen that mightye Ioue , of his great clemencie , Hath giuen me grace at last to iudge , the trueth from heresie : I saye then and professe , with free and faithfull heart , That womens vowes are nothing els , but snares of secret smart : Their beauties blaze are baites which séeme of pleasant taste , But who deuoures the hidden hooke , eates poyson for repast : Their smyling is deceipt , their faire wordes traines of treason , Their wit alwaies so full of wyles , it skorneth rules of reason , Percase some present here , haue heard my selfe of yore , Both teach & preach the contrary , my fault was then the more : I graunt my workes were these , first one Anatomie , Wherein I painted euery pang of louers perplexitye : Next that I was araignde , with George holde vp thy hand , Wherein I yéelded Bewties thrall , at hir commaund to stand : Myne eyes so blinded were , ( good people marke my tale ) That once I song , I Bathe in Blisse , amidde my weary Bal● : And many a frantike verse , then from my penne dyd passe , In waues of wicked heresie , so déepe I drowned was , All which I now recant , and here before you burne Those trifling bookes , from whose lewde lore my tippet here I turne . And hencefoorth wyl I write , howe mad is that mans minde , Which is entist by any traine to trust in womankind . I spare not wedlocke I , who lyst that state aduance , Aske Astolfe Astolf being the goodliest personne in the worlde founde a dwarfe lying with his wife king of Lumbardie , howe trim his dwarfe coulde daunce . Wherefore fayre Ladies you , that heare me what I saye , If you hereafter see me slippe , or séeme to goe astraye : Of if my tongue reuolte from that which nowe it sayth , Then plague me thus , Beleeue it not , for this is nowe my faith . Haud ictus sapio .

¶ In prayse of Bridges , nowe Lady Sandes . IN Court who so demaundes what Dame doth most excell , For my conceyt I must néedes say , faire Bridges beares the bell : Vpon whose liuely chéeke , to prooue my iudgement true , The Rose and Lillie séeme to striue for equall change of hewe : And therewithall so well her graces all agrée , No frowning chéere dare once presume in hir swéete face to bée . Although some lauishe lippes , which like some other best , Wyll saye the blemishe on hir browe disgraceth all the rest . Thereto I thus replie , God wotte they litle know , The hidden cause of that mishap , nor how the harme dyd grow . For when Dame nature first had framde hir heauenly face , And thoroughly bedecked it , with goodly gleames of grace : It lyked hir so well : Lo here ( quod shée ) a péece , For perfect shape that passeth all Apelles worke in Greece . This bayte may chaunce to catche the greatest God of loue , Or mighty thundring Ioue himself that rules the roast aboue . But out , alas , those wordes were vaunted all in vaine , And some vnsene were present there ( poore Bridges ) to thy pain . For Cupide craftie boye , close in a corner stoode , Not blyndfold then , to gaze on hir , I gesse it dyd him good . Yet when he felt the flame gan kindle in his brest , And hard dame nature boast by hir , to breake him of his rest , His hote newe chosen loue , he chaunged into hate , And sodainly with mighty mace , gan rap hir on the pate . It grieued Nature much to sée the cruell déede : Me séemes I sée hir how she wept , to see hir dearling blede . Well yet ( quod she ) this hurt shall haue some helpe I trowe , And quicke with skin she couered it , that whiter is than snowe . Wherewith Dan Cupid fled , for feare of further flame , When angel like he saw hir shine , whom he had smit with shame . Lo thus was Bridges hurt , in cradel of hir kind , The coward Cupid brake hir brow , to wreke his wounded mind , The skar styll there remaines , no force , there let it be , There is no clowde that can eclipse , so bright a sunne as she . Euer or neuer .

¶ In prayse of Zouche late the Lady Greye of Wilton whome the auctor found in a homely house . THese rustie walles whome cankred yeares deface , The comely corps of séemely Zouche enclose , Whose auncient stocke deriude from worthy race , Procures hir praise , where so the carkas goes : Hir aungels face declares hyr modest minde , Hyr louely lokes the gazing eyes allure , Hyr déedes deserue some endlesse prayse to finde , To blaze suche brute as euer might endure . Wherfore my penne in trembling feare shall staye , To write the thing that doth surmount my skill . And I will wish of God both night and daye , Some worthier place to guide hir worthy will . Where princes péeres hir due desertes maye sée , And I content hir seruaunt there to bée . Euer or Neuer .

Gascoignes praise of his mistres . THe hap which Paris had , as due for his desert , Who fauord Venus for hir face , & skornde Meneruas art : May serue to warne the wife that they no more esteme , The glistering glosse of bewties blaze , than reason should it deme . Dan Priams yonger son , found out that fairest dame , That euer trode on Troyane mold , what folowed of the same ? I list not brut hir bale , let others spread it forth , But for his parte to speake my minde his choice was little worth , My meaning is but this , who markes the outward shewe , And neuer grops for graftes of grace which in the mind should grow : May chance vpon such choise as trusty Troilus had , And dwel in dole as Paris did , when he would faine be glad . How happie then am I whose happe hath bene to finde , A mistresse first that doth excell in vertues of the mind . And yet therewith hath ioynd , such fauoure and suche grace , As Pandars niece if ( she wer here ) would quickly giue hir place . With in whose worthy brest , Dame Bounty séekes to dwel , And saith to beawty , yéeld to me , since I doe thee excell . Betwene whose heauenly eyes , doth right remorse appeare , And pitie placed by the same , doth muche amende hir chéere . Who in my daungers déepe , dyd deigne to doe mée good , Who did relieue my heauy heart , and sought to saue my blood . Who first encreast my friendes , and ouerthrew my fooes , Who loued al them that wisht me wel , & liked none but those . O Ladies giue me leaue , I prayse not hir to farre , Since she doth pas you al , as much , as Titan staines a starre . You hold such seruauntes deare , as able are to serue . She held me deare , when I poore soule , could no good thing deserue . You set by them that swim in all prosperitie , She set by me when as I was in great calamitie . You best estéeme the braue , and let the poorest passe , Shée best estéemde my poore good wyll , all naked as it was . But whether am I went ? what humor guides my braine ? I séeke to wey the woolsack down , with one poore pepper grain . I séeme to penne hir praise , that doth surpasse my skill , I striue to rowe against the tide , I hoppe against the hill . Then let these fewe suffise , shée Helene staines for hewe , Dydo for grace , Cressyde for chéere , and is as Thisbye true . Yet if you furder craue , to haue hir name displaide , Dame Fauor is my mistres name , dame Fortune is hir maid . Attamen ad solitum .

Gascoignes good morrow . YOu that haue spent the silent night , In sléepe and quiet rest , And ioye to sée the chéerefull lyght That ryseth in the East : Now cleare your voyce , now chere your hart , Come helpe me nowe to sing : Eche willing wight come beare a part , To prayse the heauenly King. And you whome care in prison kéepes , Or sickenes doth suppresse , Or secret sorowe breakes your sléepes , Or dolours doe distresse : Yet beare a parte in dolfull wise , Yea thinke it good accorde , And exceptable sacrifice , Eche sprite to prayse the lorde . The dreadfull night with darkesomnesse , Had ouer spread the light , And sluggish sléepe with drowsynesse , Had ouer prest our might : A glasse wherin you may beholde , Eche storme that stopes our breath , Our bed the graue , our clothes lyke molde , And sléepe like dreadfull death . Yet as this deadly night did laste , But for a little space , And heauenly daye nowe night is past , Doth shewe his pleasaunt face : So must we hope to sée Gods face , At last in heauen on hie , When we haue chang'd this mortall place , For Immortalitie . And of such happes and heauenly ioyes , As then we hope to holde , All earthly sightes and wordly toyes , Are tokens to beholde . The daye is like the daye of doome , The sunne , the Sonne of man , The skyes the heauens , the earth the tombe Wherein we rest till than . The Rainbowe bending in the skye , Bedeckte with sundrye hewes , Is like the seate of God on hye , And séemes to tell these newes : That as thereby he promised , To drowne the world no more , So by the bloud which Christ hath shead , He will our helth restore . The mistie cloudes that fall somtime , And ouercast the skyes , Are like to troubles of our time , Which do but dymme our eyes : But as suche dewes are dryed vp quite , When Phoebus shewes his face , So are such fansies put to flighte , Where God doth guide by grace . The caryon Crowe , that lothsome be ast , Which cryes agaynst the rayne , Both for hir hewe and for the rest , The Deuill resembleth playne : And as with gonnes we kill the Crowe , For spoyling our reléefe , The Deuill so must we ouerthrowe , With gonshote of beléefe . The little byrde which sing so swete , Are like the angelles voyce , Which render God his prayses méete , And teache vs to reioyce : And as they more estéeme that myrth , Than dread the nights anoy , So much we déeme our days on earth , But hell to heauenly ioye . Vnto which Ioyes for to attayne God graunt vs all his grace , And sende vs after worldly payne , In heauen to haue a place . Where wée maye still enioy that light . Which neuer shall decaye : Lorde for thy mercy lend vs might , To sée that ioyfull daye . Haud ictus sapio .

Gascoygnes good night . WHen thou hast spent the lingring day in pleasure and delight , Or after toyle and wearie waye , dost séeke to rest at nighte : Vnto thy paynes or pleasures past , adde this one labour yet , Ere sleepe close vp thyne eye to fast , do not thy God forget , But searche within thy secret thoughts , what déeds did thée befal : And if thou find amisse in ought , to God for mercy call . Yea though thou find nothing amisse , which thou canst cal to mind , Yet euer more remember this , there is the more behind : And thinke how well so euer it be , that thou hast spent the daye , It came of God , and not of thée , so to direct thy waye . Thus if thou trie thy dayly déedes , and pleasure in this payne , Thy life shall clense thy corne from wéeds , & thine shal be the gaine : But if thy sinfull sluggishe eye , will venter for to winke , Before thy wading will may trye , how far thy soule maye sinke , Beware and wake , for else thy bed , which soft & smoth is made , May heape more harm vpon thy head , than blowes of enmies blade . Thus if this paine procure thine ease , in bed as thou doest lye , Perhaps it shall not God displease , to sing thus soberly : I sée that sléepe is lent me here , to ease my wearye bones , As death at laste shall eke appéere , to ease my gréeuous grones . My dayly sportes , my panch full fed , haue causde my drousie eye , As carelesse life in quiet led , might cause my soule to dye : The stretching armes , the yauning breath , which I to bedward vse , Are patternes of the pangs of death , when life will me refuse : And of my bed eche sundrye part in shaddowes doth resemble , The sundry shapes of deth , whose dart shal make my flesh to tremble . My bed it selfe is like the graue , my shéetes the winding shéete , My clothes the mould which I must haue , to couer me most méete : The hungry fleas which friske so freshe , to wormes I can compare , Which greedily shall gnaw my fleshe , & leaue the bones ful bare : The waking Cock that early crowes to weare the night awaye , Puts in my minde the trumpe that blowes before the latter day . And as I ryse vp lustily , when sluggish sléepe is past , So hope I to rise ioyfully , to Iudgement at the last . Thus wyll I wake , thus wyll I sléepe , thus wyl I hope to ryse , Thus wyll I neither waile nor wéepe , but sing in godly wyse . My bones shall in this bed remaine , my soule in God shall trust , By whome I hope to ryse againe from death and earthly dust . Haud ictus sapio .

The introduction to the Psalme of Deprofundis . THe Skies gan scowle , orecast with misty clowdes , When ( as I rode alone by London waye , Cloakelesse , vnclad ) thus did I sing and say : Behold quoth I , bright Titan how he shroudes His head abacke , and yelds the raine his reach , Till in his wrath , Dan Ioue haue soust the soile , And washt me wretch which in his trauaile toile . But holla ( here ) doth rudenesse me appeach , Since Ioue is Lord and king of mighty power , Which can commaund the Sunne to shewe his face , And ( when him lyst ) to giue the raine his place . Why doe not I my wery muses frame , ( Although I bée well soused in this showre , ) To write some verse in honour of his name ?

Gascoignes Deprofundis . FRom depth of doole wherein my soule doth dwell , From heauy heart which harbours in my brest , From troubled sprite which sildome taketh rest . From hope of heauen , from dreade of darkesome hell . O gracious God , to thée I crye and yell . My God , my Lorde , my louely Lord aloane , To thée I call , to thée I make my moane . And thou ( good God ) vouchsafe in grée to take , This woefull plaint , Wherein I faint . Oh heare me then for thy great mercies sake . Oh bende thine eares attentiuely to heare , Oh turne thine eyes , behold me how I wayle , O hearken Lord , giue eare for mine auaile , O marke in minde the burdens that I beare : Sée howe I sinke in sorrowes euerye where . Beholde and sée what dollors I endure , Giue eare and marke what plaintes I put in vre . Bende wylling eare : and pittie therewithall , My wayling voyce , Which hath no choyce . But euermore vpon thy name to call . If thou good Lorde shouldest take thy rod in hande , If thou regard what sinnes are daylye done , If thou take holde where wée our workes begone , If thou decrée in Iudgement for to stande , And be extreame to sée our scuses skande , If thou take note of euery thing amysse , And wryte in rowles howe frayle our nature is , O gloryous God , O King , O Prince of power , What mortall wight , Maye then haue lyght , To feele thy frowne , if thou haue lyst to lowre ? But thou art good , and hast of mercye store , Thou not delyghst to sée a sinner fall , Thou hearknest first , before we come to call . Thine eares are set wyde open euermore , Before we knocke thou commest to the doore . Thou art more prest to heare a sinner crye , Then he is quicke to climbe to thee on hye . Thy mighty name bee praysed then alwaye , Let fayth and feare , True witnesse beare . Howe fast they stand which on thy mercy staye . I looke for thée ( my louelye Lord ) therefore . For thée I wayte , for thée I tarrye styll , Myne eyes doe long to gaze on thée my fyll . For thée I watche , for thée I prye and pore . My Soule for thée attendeth euermore . My Soule doth thyrst to take of thée a taste , My Soule desires with thée for to bée plaste . And to thy worde ( which can no man deceyue ) Myne onely trust , My loue and lust . In confidence continuallye shall cleaue . Before the breake or dawning of the daye , Before the lyght be seene in loftye Skyes , Before the Sunne appeare in pleasaunt wyse , Before the watche ( before the watche I saye ) Before the warde that waytes therefore alwaye : My soule , my sense , my secréete thought , my sprite , My wyll , my wishe , my ioye , and my delight : Vnto the Lord that sittes in heauen on highe . With hastye wing , From me doeth fling , And stryueth styll , vnto the Lorde to flye . O Israell , O housholde of the Lorde , O Abrahams Brattes , O broode of blessed séede , O chosen shéepe that loue the Lord in déede : O hungrye heartes , féede styll vpon his worde , And put your trust in him with one accorde . For he hath mercye euermore at hande , His fountaines flowe , his springes doe neuer stande . And plenteouslye hee loueth to redéeme , Such sinners all , As on him call . And faithfully his mercies most estéeme . Hée wyll redéeme our deadly drowping state , He wyll bring home the shéepe that goe astraye , He wyll helpe them that hope in him alwaye : He wyll appease our discorde and debate , He wyll soone saue , though we repent vs late . He wyll be ours if we continewe his , He wyll bring bale to ioye and perfect blisse . He wyll redéeme the flocke of his electe , From all that is , Or was amisse . Since Abrahams heyres dyd first his Lawes reiect . Euer or neuer .

¶ Gascoignes Memories , written vpon this occasion . Hee had ( in myddest of his youth ) determined to abandone all vaine delightes and to returne vnto Greyes Inne , there to vndertake againe the studdie of the common Lawes . And being required by fiue sundry Gentlemen to write in verse somewhat worthye to bee remembred , before he entered into their fellowshippe , hee compiled these fiue sundrie sortes of metre vppon fiue sundrye theames , whiche they deliuered vnto him , and the first was at request of Frauncis Kinwelmarshe who deliuered him this theame . Audaces fortuna iuuat . And therevppon hee wrote this Sonnette following . IF yelding feare , or cancred villanie , In Caesars haughtie heart had tane the charge , The walles of Rome had not bene rearde so hye , Nor yet the mightye Empire left so large . If Menelaus could haue ruld his wyll , With fowle reproche to loose his faire delight , Then had the stately towres of Troy stoode styll , And Greekes with grudge had dronke their owne despight . If dread of drenching waues or feare of fire , Had stayde the wandring Prince amydde his race , Ascanius then , the fruite of his desire , In Lauine Lande had not possessed place . But true it is , where lottes doe lyght by chaunce , There Fortune helpes the boldest to aduaunce . Sic tuli .

Learne first to spare thy budget at the brinke , So shall the bottome be the faster bound : But he that list with lauish hand to linke , ( In like expence ) a pennye with a pound , May chaunce at last to sitte a side and shrinke His harbraind head with out dame dainties dore . Hick , hobbe , and Dick , with clouts vpon their knée , Haue many times more goonhole grotes in store And change of crownes more quicke at cal then he , Which let their lease and take their rent before . For he that rappes a royall on his cappe , Before he put one penny in his pursse , Had néede turne quicke and broch a better tappe , Or els his drinke may chance go downe the wursse . I not denie but some men haue good hap , To climbe a lofte by scales of courtly grace , And winne the world with liberalitye : Yet he that yerks old angells out apace , And hath no newe to purchase dignitye , When orders fall , may chaunce to lacke his grace . For haggard hawkes mislike an emptie hand : So stiffely some sticke to the mercers stall , Till sutes of silke haue swet out all their land . So ofte thy neighbours banquet in thy hall , Till Dauie Debet in thy parler stand , And bids the welcome to thine owne decay . I like a Lions lookes not worth a léeke When euery Foxe beguiles him of his praye : What sauce but sorrow serueth him aweeke . Which all his cates consumeth in one daye ? First vse thy stomacke to a stand of ale , Before thy Malmesey come in Marchantes bookes , And rather were ( for shifte ) thy shirte of male , Than teare thy silken sleues with teynter hokes , Put feathers in thy pillowes great and small , Let them be princkt with plumes , that gape for plummes , Heape vp bothe golde and siluer safe in ●ooches , Catche , snatche , and scratche for scrapings and for crommes Before thou decke thy hatte ( on high ) with brooches . Lette first thyne one hand hold faste all that commes , Before that other learne his letting flie : Remember still that soft fire makes sweet malte , No haste but good ( who meanes to multiplye : ) Bought witte is deare , and drest with sower salte , Repentaunce commes to late , and then saye I , Who spares the first and keepes the last vnspent , Shall finde that sparing yéeldes a goodly rent . Sic tuli .

Alexander Neuile deliuered him this theame , Sat cito , si sat bene , wherevpon hee compiled these seuen Sonets in sequence , therin bewraying his owne Nimis cito : and therwith his Vix bene , as foloweth . IN haste poste haste , when first my wandring minde , Behelde the glistring Courte with gazing eye , Suche déepe delightes I séemde therin to finde , As might beguile a grauer guest than I. The stately pompe of Princes and their péeres , Did séeme to swimme in flouddes of beaten goulde , The wanton world of yong delightfull yéeres , Was not vnlyke a heauen for to behoulde . Wherin dyd swarme ( for euery saint ) a Dame , So faire of hue , so freshe of their attire , As might excell dame Cinthia for Fame , Or conquer Cupid with his owne desire . These and suche lyke were baytes that blazed still Before myne eye to feede my greedy will . 2. Before mine eye to féede my gréedy will , Gan muster eke mine olde acquainted mates , Who helpt the dish ( of bayne delighte ) to fill My empty mouth with dayntye delicates : And folishe boldenesse toke the whippe in hande , To lashe my life into this trustlesse trace , Til all in haste I leapte a loofe from lande , And hoyste vp soyle to catche a Courtly grace : Eche lingring daye did séeme a world of wo , Till in that haplesse hauen my head was brought : Waues of wanhope so tost me to and fro , In déepe dispayre to drowne my dreadfull thought : Eche houre a day eche day a yeare did séeme , And euery yeare a worlde my will did déeme . 3. And euery yeare a worlde my will did déeme , Till lo , at last , to Court nowe am I come , A séemely swayne , that might the place beséeme , A gladsome guest embraste of all and some : Not there contente with common dignitie , My wandring eye in haste , ( yea poste poste haste ) Behelde the blazing badge of brauerie , For wante wherof , I thought my selfe disgraste : Then peeuishe pride puffte vp my swelling harte , To further foorth so hotte an enterprise : And comely cost beganne to playe his parte , In praysing patternes of mine owne deuise . Thus all was good that might be got in haste , To princke me vp , and make me higher plaste . 4. To prinke me vp and make me higher plaste , All came to late that taryed any time , Pilles of prouision pleased not my taste , They made my heeles to heauie for to clime : Mée thought it best that boughes of boystrous oake . Should first be shread to make my feathers gaye . Tyll at the last a deadly dinting stroake , Brought downe the bulke with edge tooles of decaye : Of euery farme I then let flye a lease , To féede the purse that payde for péeuishnesse , Till rente and all were falne in suche disease , As scarse coulde serue to mayntayne cleanlynesse : They bought , the bodie , fine , ferme , lease , and lande , All were to little for the merchauntes hande . 5. All were to little for the merchauntes hande , And yet my brauerye bigger than his booke : But when this hotte accompte was coldly scande , I thought highe time about me for to looke : With heauie cheare I caste my head abacke , To sée the fountaine of my furious race . Comparde my losse , my liuing , and my lacke , In equall balance with my iolye grace . And sawe expences grating on the grounde Like lumpes of lead to presse my pursse full ofte , When light rewarde and recompence were founde , Fléeting like feathers in the winde alofte : These thus comparde , I left the Courte at large , For why ? the gaines doth séeldome quitte the charge . 6. For why ? the gaines doth seldome quitte the charge , And so saye I , by proofe too dearely bought , My haste mad wast , my braue and brainsicke barge , Did float to fast , to catch a thing of nought : With leasure , measure , meane , and many mo , I mought haue kept a chayre of quiet state , But hastie heads can not bée setled so , Till croked Fortune giue a crabbed mate : As busie braynes muste beate on tickle toyes , As rashe inuention bréedes a rawe deuise , So sodayne falles doe hinder hastie ioyes , And as swifte baytes doe fléetest fyshe entice . So haste makes waste , and therefore nowe I saye , No haste but good , where wisdome makes the waye . 7. No haste but good , where wisdome makes the waye , For profe whereof , behold the simple snayle , ( Who sées the souldiers carcasse caste a waye , With hotte assaulte the Castle to assayle . ) By line and leysure clymes the loftye wall , And winnes the turrettes toppe more conningly , Than doughtyé Dick , who loste his life and all , With hoysting vp his head to hastilye . The swiftest bitche brings foorth the blyndest whelpes , The hottest Feuers coldest crampes ensue , The nakedst néede hathe ouer latest helpes : With Neuyle then I finde this prouerbe true , That haste makes waste , and therefore still I saye , No haste but good , where wisdome makes the waye . Sic tuli .

Richarde Courtop ( the last of the fiue ) gaue him this theame , Durum aeneum & miserabile aeuum , and therevpon hee wrote in this wise WHen péerelesse Princes courtes were frée from flatterie , The Iustice from vnequal doome , the quest from periurie . The pillers of the state , from proude presumption , The clearkes from heresie , the commones from rebellion : Then right rewardes were giuen , by swaye of dewe desarte , Then vertues derlinges might be plaste aloft to play their part : Then might they coumpt it true , that hath béene sayde of olde , The children of those happie dayes , were borne in beds of golde . And swadled in the same : the Nurse that gaue them sucke . Was wife to liberallitie , and lemman to good lucke . When Caesar woon the fielde , his captaines caught the Townes , And euery painful souldiours purse was crammed ful of crownes . Licurgus for good Lawes , lost his owne libertie , And thought it better to preferre common commoditie . But nowe the times are turnde , it is not as it was , The golde is gone , the siluer sunke , and nothing left but brasse . To sée a King encroache , what wonder should it séeme , When commons cannot be content , with countrie Dyadeeme ? The Prince maye dye a babe , trust vp by trecherie , Where vaine ambition doth moue trustlesse nobillitye . Errours in pulpit preache , where faith in priesthood failes , Promotion ( not deuotion ) is cause why cleargie quailes . Thus is the stage stakt out , where all these partes be plaide , And I the prologue should pronounce , but that I am afraide . First Cayphas playes the Priest , and Herode sits as king , Pylate the Iudge , Iudas the Iurour verdict in doth bring , Vaine tatling plaies the vice , well cladde in ritche aray , And poore Tom Trooth is laught to skorn , with garments nothing gay . The woman wantonnesse , shée commes with ticing traine , Pride in hir pocket plaies bo péepe , and bawdry in hir braine . Hir handmaides be deceipte , daunger , and dalliaunce , Riot and Reuell follow hir , they be of hir alliaunce : Next these commes in Sim Swashe , to see what sturre they kéepe . Clim of the Clough then takes his héeles , t is time for him to créepe : To packe the pageaunt vp , commes Sorrow with a song , He say these iestes can get no grotes , & al this geare goth wrong : Fyrst pride without cause why , he singes the treble parte , The meane hee mumbles out of tune , for lacke of life and hart : Cost lost , the counter Tenor chanteth on apace , Thus all in discords stands the cliffe , and beggrie singes the base , The players loose their paines , where so fewe pence are sturring , Their garments weare for lacke of gains , & fret for lack of furring . When all is done and past , was no part plaide but one , For euerye player plaide the foole , tyll all be spent and gone . And thus this foolishe iest , I put in dogrell rime , Because a crosier staffe is best , for such a crooked time . Sic tuli . ¶ And thus an ende of these fiue Theames , admounting to the number of . CCLVIII. verses , deuised ryding by the way , writing none of them vntill he came at the ende of his Iourney , the which was no longer than one day in ryding , one daye in tarying with his friend , and the thirde in returning to Greyes Inne : and therefore called Gascoignes memories .

¶ A gloze vpon this text , Dominus ijs opus habet . MY recklesse race is runne , gréene youth and pride be past , My riper mellowed yéeres beginne to follow on as fast . My glancing lookes are gone , which wonted were to prie , In euerie gorgious garishe glasse , that glistred in mine eie . My sight is now so dimme , it can behold none such , No mirrour but the merrie meane , can please my fansie much . And in that noble glasse , I take delight to vewe , The fashions of the wonted world , compared by the newe . For marke who lyst to looke , eche man is for him selfe . And beates his braine to hord & heape , this trashe & worldly pelfe . Our handes are closed vp , great giftes go not abroade , Fewe men wyll lende a locke of heye , but for to gaine a loade . Giue Gaue is a good man , what néede we lashe it out , The world is wondrous feareful now , for danger bids men doubt . And aske how chaunceth this ? or what meanes all this meede ? Forsoothe the common aunswere is , because the Lord hath neede . A noble iest by gisse , I finde it in my glasse , The same fréeholde our sauiour Christ , conueyed to his asse . A texte to trie the trueth , and for this time full fitte , Fo where should we our lessons learne , but out of holy writte ? First marke our onely God , which ruleth all the rost , He sets a side all pompe and pride , wherin fond wordlings boast . His trayne is not so great , as filthy Sathans band , A smaller heard maye serue to féede , at our great masters hand . Next marke the heathens Gods , and by them shall we sée , They be not now so good fellowes , as they were wonte to be . Ioue , Mars , and Mercurie , Dame Venus and the rest , They banquet not as they were wont , they know it were not best . So kinges and princes both , haue left their halles at large , Their priuie chambers cost enough , they cut off euery charge . And when an office falles , as chaunce somtimes maye bée , First kepe it close a yere or twayne , then geld it by the fee . And giue it out at last , but yet with this prouiso , ( A bridle for a brainsicke Iade ) durante bene placito . Some thinke these ladders low , to climbe alofte with spéede : Well let them créepe at leisure them , for sure the Lord hath neede . Dukes Earles and Barons bold , haue learnt like lesson nowe , They breake vp house & come to courte , they liue not by that plowe . Percase their roomes be skant , not like their stately boure , A field bed in a corner coucht , a pallad on the floure . But what for that ? no force , they make thereof no boast , They féede them selues with delycates , and at the princes cost . And as for all their men , their pages and their swaynes , They choke them vp with chynes of béefe , to multiply their gaines . Themselues lie néere to looke , when any leafe doth fall , Such cromes were wont to féede pore gromes , but nowe the Lords sicke al. And why ? oh sir , because , both dukes & lords haue néede , I mocke not I , my text is true , beléeue it as your créede . Our Prelates and our Priests , can tell this text with mée , They can hold fast their fattest fermes , and let no lease go frée . They haue both wife and childe , which maye not be for got , The scriptures say the Lord hath neede , & therfore blame them not . Then come a little lower , vnto the contrye knight , The squire and the gentleman , they leaue the countrye quite , Their Halles were all to large , their tables were to long , The clouted shoes came in so faste , they kepte to great a throng , And at the porters lodge , where lubbers wonte to féede , The porter learnes to answere now , hence hence the Lord hath neede . His gestes came in to thicke , their diet was to great , Their horses eate vp all the hey , which should haue fed his neate : Their teeth were farre to fine , to féede on porke and souse , Fyue flocks of shéepe could scarce maintaine good mutten for his house . And when this count was cast , it was no biding here , Vnto the good towne is he gonne , to make his frends good chéere . And welcome there that will , but shall I tell you howe : At his owne dish he féedeth them , that is the fashion nowe , Side bords be layed aside , the tables ende is gonne , His cooke shall make you noble chéere , but hostler hath he none . The chargers now be changde , wherin he wont to eate , An olde frutedish is bigge ynough to hold a ioynte of meate . A sallad or a sauce , to tast your cates with all , Som strang deuise to féede mens eies , mens stomacks now be small . And when the tenauntes come to paie their quarters rent , They bringe some fowle at Midsommer , a dish of Fish in Lent , At Christmasse a capon , at Mighelmasse a goose : And somewhat else at Newyeres tide , for feare their lease flie loose . Good reason by my troth , when Gentlemen lacke groates , Let Plowmen pinche it out for pence , & patch their russet coates : For better Fermers fast , than Manner houses fall , The Lord hath néede , than says the text , bring old Asse colt & all . Well lowest nowe at last , let sée the contrye loute , And marke how he doth swink & sweat , to bring this geare about : His feastinges be but fewe , cast whipstockes clout his shoone , The wheaten loafe is locked vp as sone as dinners doone : And where he wonte to kepe a lubber , two or thrée , Now hath he learnd to kepe no more , but Sim his sonne and he , His wife and Mawde his mayd , a boye to pitch the carte , And turne him vp at Hollontide , to féele the winter smarte : Dame Alyson his wife doth knowe the price of meale , Hir bride cakes be not halfe so bigge as she was wont to steale . She weares no siluer hookes , she is content with worsse , Hir pendantes and hir siluer pinnes she putteth in hir pursse . Thus learne I by my glasse , that merrie meane is best , And he most wise that finds the meane , to kéepe himselfe at rest . Perchaunce some open mouth will mutter now and than , And at the market tell his mate , our landlordes a zore man : He racketh vp our rentes , and kéepes the best in hand , He makes a wondrous deale of good out of his own measne land : Yea let suche pelters prate , saint Needam be their spéede , We néede no text to answer them , but this , The Lord hath nede . Euer or neuer

An Epitaph vpon Captaine Bourcher late slaine in the warres in Zelande , the which hath bene termed the tale of a stone as foloweth . FYe Captaines fie , your tongues are tyed to close , Your Souldiours eke by silence purchase shame : Can no man penne in méetre nor in prose , The lyfe , the death , the valliaunt actes , the fame , The birth , behauiour , nor the noble name , Of such a féere as you in fight haue lost : Alas such paines would quickly quite the cost . Bourcher is dead , whome eche of you dyd knowe , Yet no man writes one worde to paint his praise , His sprite on highe , his earkasse here belowe , Doth both condemne your doting ydle dayes : Yet ceasse they not to sounde his worthy wayes , Who liued to dye , and dyed againe to liue , With death déere bought , he dyd his death forgiue . Hée might for byrth haue boasted noble race , Yet were his manners méeke and alwayes milde , Who gaue a gesse by gazing on his face , And iudgde thereby , might quickly be beguilde , In fielde a Lion , and in Towne a Childe , Fierce to his foe , but courteouse to his friende . Alas the while , his life so soone should ende ? To serue his Prince his life was euer prest , To serue his God , his death he thought but dew , In all attempts as foreward as the best , And all to forewardes , which we all may rew , His life so shewed , his death eke tried it true : For where his foes in thickest prease dyd stande , Bourcher caught bane with bloodie sworde in hande . And marke the courage of a noble heart , When he in bed laye wounded wondrous sore , And heard allarme , he soone forgot his smart , And calde for armes to shewe his seruice more : I wyll to fielde ( quod he ) and God before . Which sayde , he sailde into more quiet coast , Styll praysing God , and so gaue vp the ghost . Nowe muze not reader though we stones can speake , Or write sometimes the déedes of worthy ones , I could not holde although my heart should breake , ( Because here by me buryed are his bones , ) But I must tell this tale thus for the nones . When men crye mumme and kéepe such silence long , Then stones must speake , els dead men shall haue wrong . Finis quod Marmaduke Marblestone .

¶ A deuise of a Marke for the right honorable Viscount Mountacute , written vpon this occasion , when the sayde L. had prepared to solemnize twoo marriages betweene his sonne and heyre , and the Daughter of syr William Dormer Knight , and betweene the sonne and heyre of syr William Dormer , and the Daughter of the said L. Mountacute : there were eight Gentlemen ( all of blood or alliaunce to the sayd L. Mountacute ) which had determined to present a Maske at the daye appointed for the sayd marriages , and so farre they had proceeded therein , that they had alreadye bought furniture of Silkes . &c , and had caused their garmentes to bee cut of the Venetian fashion . Nowe then they began to imagine that ( without some speciall demonstration ) it would seeme somewhat obscure to haue Venetians presented rather than other countrey men . Wherevpon they entreated the Aucthour to deuise some verses to bee vttered by an Actor wherein might be some discourse conuenient to render a good cause of the Venetians presence . The Aucthour calling to minde that there is a noble house of the Mountacutes in Italie , and therwithall that the L. Mountacute here doth quarter the coate of an auncient English Gentleman called Mounthermer , and hath the inheritaunce of the sayde house , dyd therevpon deuise to bring in a Boye of the age of twelue or .xiiii. yeeres , who should faine that he was a Mounthermer by the fathers side , and a Mountacute by the mothers side , and that his father being slaine at the last warres against the Turke , and he there taken , hee was recouered by the Venetians in their last victorie , and with them sayling towardes Venice , they were driuen by tempest vpon these coastes , and so came to the mariage vpon report as followeth , and the sayde Boye pronounced the deuise in this sort . WHat wonder you my Lords ? why gaze you gentlemen ? And wherefore maruaile you Mez Dames , I praye you tell mée then● Is it so rare a sight , or yet so straunge a toye , Amongst so many nooble péeres , to sée one Pouer Boye ? Why ? boyes haue bene allowed in euerye kinde of age . As Ganymede that pretye boye , in Heauen is Ioue his page . Cupid that mighty God although his force be fearse , Yet is he but a naked Boye , as Poets doe rehearse . And many a préetye boye a mightye man hath proued , And serued his Prince at all assayes deseruing to bée loued . Percase my strange attire my glittering golden gite , Doth eyther make you maruaile thus , or moue you with delite . Yet wonder not my Lordes for if your honours please , But euen to giue me eare a while , I wyll your doubtes appease . And you shall knowe the cause , wherefore these roabes are worne , And why I goe outlandishe lyke , yet being Englishe borne . And why I thus presume to presse into this place , And why I ( simple boye ) am bolde to looke such men in face . Fyrst then you must perstande , I am no straunger I , But English boye , in England borne , and bred but euen hereby . My father was a Knight , Mount Hermer was his name , My mother of the Mountacutes , a house of worthy fame . My father from his youth was trained vp in field , And alwayes toke his chiefe delight , in helmet speare and shielde . Soldado for his life , and in his happie dayes , Soldado like hath lost his life , to his immortall prayse . The thundering fame which blewe about the worlde so wyde , Howe that the Christian enemye , the Turke that Prince of pride , Addressed had his power , to swarme vppon the Seas , With Gallies , foists , and such liks ships , well armde at al assaies . And that he made his vaunt , the gréedy fishe to glut , With gobs of Christian carkasses , in eruell péeces cut . These newes of this report , did pearce my fathers eares , But neuer touched his noble heart , with any sparke of feares . For well he knewe the trade of all the Turkishe warres , And had amongst them shed his blood , at many cruell iarres . In Rhodes his race begonne , a slender tale yong man , Where he by many martiall feats , his spurres of knighthood wan . Yea though the péece was lost , yet won he honour styll , And euermore against the Turkes he warred by his wyll . At Chios many knowe , how hardily he fought , And howe with streames of stryuing blood , his honoure deare hée bought . At length enforst to yéeld with many captaines mo , He bought his libertie with Landes , and let his goodes ago . Zechines * * Apeece of golde like the Crusado of glistering golde , two thousand was his price , The which to paye his landes must leape , for else he were vnwise , Beléeue me nowe my Lordes although the losse be mine , Yet I confesse them better solde , than lyke a slaue to pine . " For landes maye come againe , but lybertie once lost , " Can neuer finde such recompence , as counteruailes the cost . My selfe now know the case , who lyke my fathers lot , Was lyke of late for to haue lost my libertie God wot . My father ( as I saye ) enforste to leaue his lande , In mortgage to my mothers kinne , for ready coyne in hande , Gan nowe vpon these newes , which earst I dyd rehearse , Prepare himselfe to saue his pawne , or else to léese his phearce . And first his raunsome payde , with that which dyd remaine , He rigged vp a proper Barke , was called Leffort Brittaine . And lyke a venturer ( besides him séemely selfe ) Determined for to venture me and all his worldly pelfe . Perhappes some hope of gaine perswaded so his minde , For sure his hauty heart was bent , some greate exploite to finde . Howe so it were , the windes nowe hoysted vp our sailes , Wée furrowing in the foming flooddes , to take our best auailes . Now hearken to my wordes , and marke you well the same , For nowe I wyll declare the cause , wherefore I hyther came . My father ( as I saye ) had set vp all his rest , And tost on seas both daye and night , disdayning ydle rest , We left our forelandes ende , we past the coast of Fraunce , We reacht the cape of Finis Terre our course for to aduaunce . We past Marrocchus streightes , and at the last descried , The fertile coastes of Cyprus soile , whicch I my selfe first spyed . My selfe ( a foreward boye ) on highest top was plast , And there I saw the Cyprian shoare , whereto we sayld in haste . Which when I had declared vnto the masters mate , He lepte for ioye and thanked God , of that our happy state . " But what remaines to man , that can continue long ? " What sunne can shine so cleare & bright but cloudes may ryse among ? Which sentence soone was proued , by our vnhappy hap , We thought our selues full néere our friendes , & light in enemies lap . The Turke that Tirant he , with siege had girte the walles , Of famous Famagosta * * The chiefe Cittie in Cyprus . then and sought to make them thralles . And as he laye by lande , in strong and stately trenche , So was his power prest by Sea , his Christian foes to drenche . Vpon the waltring waues , his Foistes and Gallies fléete , More forrest like than orderly , for such a man most méete . This heauy sight once seene , we turnde our course apace , And set vp al our sailes in haste , to giue suche furie place . But out alas , our willes , and windes were contrarie , For raging blastes did blowe vs still vppon our enimie . My father séeing then , whereto he néedes must go , And that the mighty hand of God , had it appointed so . Most like a worthy knight ( though certaine of his death ) Gan cleane forget all wayling wordes , as lauishe of his breath . And to his Christian crewe , this ( too shorte ) tale he told , To comfort them which séemde to faint , & make the coward bold , " Fellowes in armes , quod hée , although I beare the charge , " And take vpon mée chieftaines name , of this vnhappy barge , " Yet are you all my pheares , and as one companie , " Wée must like true companions , togeather liue and die , " You sée quod hée our foes , with furious force at hand , " And in whose handes our handfull heere , vnable is to stand , " What resteth then to doe , should we vnto them yéeld ? " And wifully receiue that yoke , which Christians cannot weld . " No sure , hereof be sure , our liues were so vnsure , " And though we liue , yet so to liue , as better death endure . " To heare those hellishe fiendes in raging blasphemie , " Defye our onely Sauiour , were this no miserie ? " To sée the fowle abuse of boyes in tender yéeres , " The which I knowe must néedes abhorre all honest Christians eares . " To sée maides rauished , Wiues , Women forst by feare , " And much more mischiefe than this time can let me vtter here . " Alas , quod he , I tell not all , my tongue is tyde , " But all the slaueries on the earth , we should with them abide . " How much were better than , to dye in worthy wise , " And so to make our carkasses , a wylling Sacrifice . " So shall we paye the debt , which vnto God is due , " So shall you die in his defence , who deind to die for you . " And who with hardy hand , most Turkish tikes can quell , " Let him accompt in conscience , to please his maker well . " You sée , quod he , my sonne , wherewith hée lookt on mée , " Whome but a babe , yet haue I brought , my partner here to bée . " For , him I must confesse , my heart is pensiue nowe , " To leaue him lyuing thus in youth , to die I know not how . " But since it pleaseth God , I may not murmure I , " If God had pleased we both should liue , and as God wyll we dye . Thus with a braying sigh , his noble tongue he stayde , Commaunding all the ordinaunce , in order to be laide . And placing all his men in order for to fight , Fell groueling styll vpon his face , before them all in sight . And when in secréete so , he whispered had a while , He raisde his head with chéerefull looke , his sorrowes to beguile : And with the rest he prayde , to God in heauen on hie , Which ended thus , Thou onely Lord , canst helpe in miserie . This sayd ( behold ) the Turkes enclosde vs round about , And séemde to wonder that we durst resist so great a rout . Wherat they doubt not long , for though our power was slender , We sent them signes by Canon shot , that we ment not to render . Then might we sée them chafe , then might we heare them rage , And all at once they bent their force , about our silly cage . Our ordinaunce bestowed , our men them selues defend , On euery side so thicke beset , they might not long contend . But as their captaine wilde , eche man his force did strayne , To send a Turke ( some two or thrée ) vnto the hellishe trayne , And he himselfe which sawe , he might no more abide , Did thrust a mide the thickest throng , and so with honour died . With him there dyed like wise , his best aproued men , The rest did yéeld as men amazd , they had no courage then . Amongest the which my selfe , was tane by Turkes alas , And with the Turkes a turkish life , in Turkie must I passe . I was not done to death for so I often craude , But like a slaue before the Gattes , of Famagosta saude . That péece once put to sacke , I thither was conueyed , And vnder sauegard euermore , I silly boye was stayed . There dyd I sée such sightes , as yet my heart do pricke , I sawe the noble * * The gouernour of Famagosta . Bragadine , when he was fleyd quicke . First like a slaue enforst to beare to euery breach , Two baskets laden full with earth * * The generall of the Turkes . Mustaffa dyd him teach . By whome he might not passe before he kyst the grounde , These cruell tormentes ( yet with mo ) that worthy souldior found . His eares cut from his head , they set him in a chayre , And from a maine yard hoisted him aloft into the ayre , That so he might be shewed with crueltie and spight , Vnto vs all , whose wéeping eyes dyd much abhorre the sight . Alas why do I thus with woefull wordes rehearse , These werye newes which all our heartes with pittie néedes must pearce ? Well then to tell you forth , I styll a slaue remaind , To one , which Prelybassa hight , who held me styll enchaind . With him I went to Seas into the gulfe of Pant , With many christians captiues mo , which dyd their fréedom want . There with the Turkishe traine we were enforst to staye , With waltring styll vpon the waues , dyd waite for furder praye . For why ? they had aduise , that the Venetian fléete , Dyd floote in Argostelly then , with whome they hopte to méete . And as they waltered thus with tides and billowes tost , Their hope had hap , for at the last they met them to their cost . As in October last vppon the seuenth daye , They found the force of christian knightes addrest in good aray . And shall I trie my tong to tell the whole discourse , And howe they did encounter first , and howe they ioynd in force ? Then harken nowe my lords , for sure my memorye , Doth yet recorde the very plot of all this victorye , The christian crew came on , in forme of battayle pight , And like a cressent cast them selues preparing for to fight . On other side the Turkes , which trusted power to much , Disorderly did spread their force , the will of God was such . Well at the last they met , and first with cannones thunder , Eache other sought with furious force to slit their ships in sunder . The barkes are battered sore , the gallies gald with shot , The hulks are hit , and euery man must stand vnto his lot . The powder sendes his smoke into the cruddy skies , The smoulder stops our nose with stench , the fume offends our eies . The pots of lime vnsteakt , from highest top are cast , The parched pease are not for got to make them slip as fast . The wilde fire works are wrought and cast in foemens face , The grappling hooks are streched foorth , the pikes are pusht a pace . The halbert hewe on hed , the browne billes bruse the bones , The harquebush doth spit his spight , with prety persing stones . The drummes crie dub a dub , the braying trumpets blow , The whistling fifes are seldom herd , these sounds do drowne them so . The voyce of warlike wights , to comfort them that faynt , The pitious plaints of golden harts , which were with feares attaint . The groning of such ghosts as gasped nowe for breath , The praiers of the better sort , prepared vnto death . And to be short , eache griefe which on the earth maye growe , Was each and easie to be found , vpon these floudes to flowe . If any sight on earth , maye vnto hell resemble , Then sure this was a hellishe sighte , it makes me yet to tremble : And in this bloudie fight , when halfe the daye was spent , It pleazed God to helpe his flocke , which thus in pound was pent . The generall of Spayne , gan gald that galley sore , Where in my Prely Bassa was , and grieude it more and more : Vpon that other side , with force of sworde and flame , The good Venetian Generall dyd charge vpon the same . At leength they came aboorde , and in his raging pride , Stroke of this Turkish captains head , which blasphemd as it dide : Oh howe I féele the bloud now trickle in my brest , To thinke what ioye then pierst my heart , and how I thought me blest . To sée that cruell Turke which held me as his slaue , By happie hand of Christians , his paiment thus to haue : His head from shoulders cut , vpon a Pike dyd stand , The which Don Iohn of Austrye , helde in his triumphant hand . The boldest Bassa then , that dyd in life remaine , Gan tremble at the sight hereof , for priuy griefe and paine . Thus when these fierce had fought , from morning vntyl night , Christ gaue his flocke the victory , and put his foes to flight : And of the Turkishe traine , were eyght score Galleys tane , Fiftéene sunke , fiue and twenty burnt , & brought vnto their bane , Of Christians set at large were fouretéene thousand soules , Turkes twentie thousand registred in Belzebub his rolles . Thus haue you nowe my Lordes , the summe of all their fight , And trust it all for true I tell , for I was styll in sight : But when the Seas were calme , and skies began to cleare , When foes were all or dead or fled , and victors dyd appeare . Then euery Christian sought amongst vs for his friende , His kinsman or companion , some succour them to lende : And as they ransakte so , loe God his wyll it was , A noble wise Venetian , by me dyd chaunce to passe : Who gazing on my face , dyd séeme to lyke me well , And what my name , and whence I was , commaunded me to tel : I now which waxed bolde , as one that scaped had , From déepest hell to highest heauen , began for to be glad : And with a liuely sprite , began to plead● my case , And hid not from this worthy man , myne auntient worthy race : And tolde my fathers name , and howe I dyd descende , From Mountacutes by Mothers side , nor there my tale dyd ende . But furthermore I tolde my Fathers late exployte , And how he left his lands , goodes & life , to pay son Dieu son droit . Nor of my selfe I craued so credited to bée , For lo there were remaining yet , These foure whom here you see . The foure to the bearers , that came in with the Actor . Which all were Englishe borne , and knewe I had not lyed , And were my Fathers souldiors eke , and sawe him how he dyed . This graue Venetian who heard the famous name , Of Mountacutes rehersed there , which long had bene of fame . In Italy , and he of selfe same worthy race , Gan straight with many curteous words , in arms me to imbrace . And kyssed me on chéeke , and bad me make good chéere , And thank the mighty hand of God , for that which hapned there , Confessing that he was him selfe a Mountacute , And bare the selfe same armes that I dyd quarter in my scute : And for a further proofe , he shewed in his hat , This token which the Mountacutes The Actor had a token in his cap like to the Mountacutes of Italie . dyd beare alwaies , for that . They couet to be knowne from Capels where they passe , For auncient grutch which long ago , twene these two houses was . Then tooke me by the hand , and ledde me so aboorde , His Galley : where there were yféere , full many a comely Lorde : Of whome eyght Mountacutes dyd sitte in highest place , To whome this first declared first my name , and then my race : Lo Lordings here ( quod he ) a babe of our owne bloods , Whom Turks had tane , his father slaine , with losse of lands & goods : Sée how God fauours vs , that I should find him nowe , I straunge to him , he straunge to mée , we met I know not howe . But sure when I him saw , and gazed in his face , Me thought he was a Mountacute , I chose him by his grace . Herewith he dyd rehearse my Fathers valiaunt deede , For losse of whome eche Mountacute , did séeme in heart to bléede . They all embrast me then , and straight as you may sée , In comely garments trimde me vp , as braue as braue may bée : I was in sackcloath I , nowe am I cladde in Golde , And weare such roabes , as I my selfe take pleasure to beholde . Amongst their other giftes , this token they me gaue , The token that he dyd weare in his cappe . And had me lyke a Mountacute , my selfe alway behaue . The Montacutes and capels in Italye do were tokens in their cappes to be knowen one from another . Nowe hearken then my Lordes , I staying on the Seas . In consort of these louely Lordes , with comfort and with ease . Determined with them in Italie to dwell , And there by traine of youthfull yéeres in knowledge to excell . That so I might at last réedifye the walles , Which my good father had decaide by tossing fortunes balles . And while they slice the Seas to their desired shore , Beholde a lytle gale began , encreasing more and more . At last with raging blast , which from Southeast dyd blowe , Gan sende our sailes vpon these shores , which I ful wel did know . I spyed the Chalkie Clyues vpon the Kentishe coast , Whereby our Lande hight Albyon , as Brutus once dyd boast . Which I no sooner sawe , but to the rest I sayde , Siate di buona voglta , My Lordes be well apaide : I sée by certaine signes these Tempestes haue vs cast , Vpon my natiue countrey coastes with happy hap at last : And if your honours please this honour me to doo , In Englishe hauens to harbour you , and sée our Citties too : Lo London is not farre , whereas my friendes would bée , Right glad , with fauour to requite your fauour shewed to mée : Vouchsafe my Lordes ( quod I ) to stay vpon this strand , And whiles your Barks be rigged new , remaine with me on land , Who though I bée a Boye , my Father dead and slaine , Yet shall you see I haue some friendes which wyll you entertaine . These Noble men which are , the flowre of curtesie , Dyd not disdaine this my request , but tooke it thankfullie . And from their battered Barkes commaunded to be cast , Some * * Venetian hotes Gondalaes , wherin vpon our pleasant streames they past . Into the month of Thames , thus dyd I them transport , And to London at the last , whereas I heard report . Euen as we landed first , of this twise happie day , To thinke whereon I leapt for ioye , as I both must and may . And to these louely Lordes , which are Magnificoes , I dyd declare the whole discourse in order as it rose : That you my Lorde who are the chiefest Mountacute , And he whome Englishe Mountacutes their onely staye impute , Had found the meanes this daye to match your sonne and heire , In marriage with a worthy dame , which is both fresh and faire , And ( as reportes are spread ) of goodly quallyties , A virgin trayned from hir youth in godly exercise , Whose brother had like wise your daughter tane to wife , And so by double lynkes enchaynde themselues in louers life : These noble Mountacutes which were from Venice drouen . By tempest ( as I tolde before ) wherewith they long had strouen . Gan nowe giue thankes to God which so did them conuay , To sée such honours of their kinne in such a happie day . And straight they mée intreat , whom they might wel commaund . That I should come to you my Lord , first them to recommaund . And then this boone to craue , that vnder your protection , They might be bolde to enter here , deuoyd of all suspection . And so in friendly wise for to conselebrate , This happie match solemnized , according to your state . Lo this is all they craue , the which I can not doubt , But that your Lordship soone will graunt , with more , if more ye mought : Yea were it for no more , but for the Curtesie , Which as I saye they shewde to me in greate extremitye : They are Venetians , and though from Venice reft , They come in such Venecian robes , as they on seas had left : And since they be your friendes , and kinsmen too by blood , I trust your entretainement will be to them right good : They will not tarry long , lo nowe I heare their drumme , Behold , lo nowe I sée them here , in order howe they come , Receiue them well my lord , so shall I praye all wayes , That God vouchsafe to blesse this house with many happie days .

After the maske was done , the Actor tooke master Tho. Bro. by the hand an brought him to the Venetians , with these words : GVardate Signori my louely Lords behold , This is another Mountacute , hereof you may bee bold . Of such our patrone here , The viscont Mountacute , Hath many comely sequences , well sorted all in sute . But as I spied him first , I could not let him passe , I tooke the carde that likt me best , in order as it was . And here to you my lords , I do present the same , Make much of him , I pray you then , for he is of your name . For whome I dare aduante , he may your Trounchman bée , Your herald and ambassadour , let him play all for me .

Then the Venetians embraced and receiued the same maister Tho. Browne , and after they had a while whispered with him , he torned to the Bridegroomes and Brides , saying thus . BRother , these noblemen to you nowe haue me sent , As for their Trounchman to expound the effect of their intent They bid me tell you then , they like your worthy choyce . And that they cannot choose therin but triumph and reioyce . As farre as gesse may giue , they séeme to praise it well , They saye betwéene your Ladyes eyes , doth Gentilezza dwell . I terme it as they doe , their english is but weake , And I ( God knowes ) am al to yong , beyond sea speach to speake . And you my sister-eke they séeme for to commend , With such good workes as may beséeme a cosin and a friend . They lyke your chosen pheare , so praye they for your sake , That he maye alwayes be to you , a faythfull louing make . This in effect is all , but that they craue aboone , That you will giue them licence yet , to come and sée you soone . Then will they speake them selues , such english as they can , I feare much better then I speake , that am an english man . Lo nowe they take their leaues of you and of your dames , Here after shal you sée their face and knowe them by their nams .

Then when they had taken their leaues the Actor did make an ende thus . And I your Seruidore , vibascio le mani , These wordes I learnt amongst them yet , although I learnt not many Haud ictus sapio .

The refusal of a louer , writen to a gentlewoman who had refused him and chosen a husband ( as he thought ) much inferior to himselfe , both in knowledge , birth , and parsonage , wherin he bewraieth both their names in clowdes , and how she was won from him with swete gloues , and broken ringes . I Cannot wish thy griefe , although thou worke my wooe , Since I profest to be thy friend , I cannot be thy foe : But if thinges done and past , might well be cald agayne , Then would I wishe the wasted wordes , which I haue spent in vayne : Were yet vntold to thée , in earnest or in game , And that my doubtfull musing mint , had neuer thought the same . For whiles I thée beheld , in carefull thoughtes I spent , My liking lust , my luckelesse loue which euer truely ment . And whiles I sought a meane , by pittie to procure , Too latte I found that gorged haukes , do not esteme the lure . This vauntage hast thou then , thou mayest wel brag and boast . Thou mightest haue had a lustye lad of stature with the most . And eke of noble mind , his vertues nothing base , Do well declare that he desends , of auncient worthy race . Saue that I * * Know not not his name , and though I could it tell , My friendly pen shall let it passe , bicause I loue him well . And thou hast chosen one of meaner parentage , Of stature smale and therewithall , vnequall for thine age . His * * Good qua●●●ies . thewes vnlike the first , yet hast thou hote desire , To play thée in his flitting flames , God graunt they proue not fire . Him holdest thou as deare , and he thy Lord shall bée , ( Too late alas ) thou louest him , that neuer loued thée . And for iust profe hereof , marke what I tell is true , Some dismold daye shall chaunge his minde , and make him séeke a new . Then wylt thou much repent , thy bargaine made in haste , And much lament those perfumd Gloues , which yéeld such sower taste . And eke the falsed faith , which lurkes in broken ringes , Though hand in hand say otherwise , yet do I know such thinges . Then shalt thou sing and saye , farewell my trusty Squyer , Would God my mind had yéelded once , vnto thy iust desire . Thus shalt thou wayle my want , and I thy great vnrest , Which cruel Cupid kindled hath , within thy broken brest . Thus shalt thou find it griefe , which earst thou thoughtest game , And I shall heare the wearie newes , by true reporting fame . Lamenting thy mishap , in source of swelling teares , Harding my heart with cruell care , which frosen fansie beares . And though my iust desert , thy pittie could not moue , Yet wyl I washe in wayling wordes , thy careles childishe loue . And saye as Troylus sayde , since that I can no more , Thy wanton wyll dyd wauer once , and woe is me therefore . Si fortunatus infoelix .

¶ Pride in Court written by a Gentlewoman in Court , who ( when shee was there placed ) seemed to disdaine him , contrarie to a former profession . WHen daunger kéepes the doore , of Ladye bewties bowre , When ielouse toyes haue chased Trust out of hir strongest towre . Then faith and trooth maye flye , then falshood winnes the field , Then féeble naked fautlesse heartes , for lacke of fence must yéeld . And then preuailes as much to hoppe against the hyll , As séeke by suite for to appease a froward Ladies wyll . For oathes and solempne vowes , are wasted then in vaine , And truth is compted but a toye , when such fond fancies raigne . The sentence sone is sayde , when will it selfe is Iudge , And quickly is the quarrell pickt , when Ladies list to grudge . This sing I for my selfe , ( which wroate this weary song ) Who iustly may complaine my case , if euer man had wrong . A Lady haue I seru'd , a Lady haue I lou'd , A Ladies good wyll once I had , hir yll wyll late I prou'd . In countrey first I knewe hir , in countrey first I caught hir , And out of countrey nowe in Court , to my cost haue I sought hir . In Court where Princes raigne , hir place is nowe assignde , And well were worthy for the roome , if she were not vnkinde . There I ( in wonted wise ) dyd shewe my selfe of late , And found that as the soile was chang'd , so loue was turnd to hate . But why ? God knowes , not I : saue as I sayde before , Pitie is put from porters place , and daunger kéepes the dore . If courting then haue skill , to chaunge good Ladies so , God send eche wilful Dame in Court , some wound of my like wo. That with a troubled head , she may both turne and tosse , In restlesse bed when she should sléepe and féele of loue the losse . And I ( since porters put me from my wonted place ) And déepe deceipte hath wrought a wyle to wrest me out of grace : Wyll home againe to cart , as fitter were for mée , Then thus in court to serue and starue , where such proude porters bée . Si fortunatus infoelix .

¶ This question being propounded by a Dame vnto the Aucthour , to witte , why he should write Spreta tamen viuunt , he aunswereth thus . DEspysed things may liue , although they pine in payne : And things ofte trodden vnder foote , may once yet rise againe . The stone that lieth full lowe , may clime at last full hye : And stand a loft on stately towr's , in sight of euery eye . The cruell Axe which felles the trée that grew full straight : Is worne with rust , when it renewes , and springeth vp on height . The rootes of rotten Réedes in swelling seas are seene : And when eche tide hath tost his worst , they grow againe ful gréene . Thus much to please my selfe , vnpleasauntly I sing . And shrich to ease my morning minde , in spite of enuies sting . I am nowe set full light , who earst was dearely lou'd : Som new found choise is more estemd , than that which wel was prou'd . Some Diomede is crept into Dame Cressides hart : And trustie Troylus nowe is taught in vaine to playne his part . What resteth then for me ? but thus to wade in wo : And hang in hope of better chaunce , when chaunge appointeth so . I sée no sight on earth , but it to Chaunge enclines : As litle clowdes oft ouercast , the brightest Sunne that shines . No Flower is so freshe , but frost can it deface : No man so sure in any seate , but he maye léese his place . So that I stand content ( though much against my mind ) To take in worth this lothsome lot , which luck to me assynd , And trust to sée the time , when they that nowe are vp : May féele the whirle of fortunes whéele , and tast of sorrowes cup. God knoweth I wishe it not , it had bene bet for mée : Styll to haue kept my quiet chayre in hap of high degrée . But since without recure , Dame Chaunge in loue must raigne : I now wish chaunge that sought no chaunge , but constant did remaine . And if suche chaunge do chaunce , I vowe to clap my hands , And laugh at them which laught at me : lo thus my fansie standes . Spreta tamen viuunt .

¶ In trust is Treason , written by a Louer , leaning onelye to his Ladies promises , and finding them to fayle . THe straightest Trée that growes vpon one onely roote : If that roote fayle , wyll quickly fade , no props can do it boote . I am that fading plant , which on thy grace dyd growe , Thy grace is gone wherefore I mone , and wither all in woe . The tallest ship that sailes , if shée too Ancors trust : When Ancors slip & Cables breake , her helpe lyes in the dust . I am the ship my selfe , mine Ancor was thy faith : Which now is fled , thy promise broke , & I am driuen to death . Who climeth oft on hie , and trusts the rotten bowe : If that bow breake may catch a fall , such state stand I in now . Me thought I was a loft , and yet my seate full sure : Thy heart dyd séeme to me a rock which euer might endure . And sée , it was but sand , whome seas of subtiltie : Haue soked so with wanton waues , that faith was forst to flye . The flooddes of ficklenesse haue vndermined so , The first foundation of my ioy , that myrth is ebb'd to wo. Yet at lowe water markes , I lye and wayte my time : To mend the breach , but all in vaine , it cannot passe the prime . For when the prime flood comes , which all this rage begoon : Then waues of wyll do worke so fast , my piles are ouer roon . Dutie and dilligence which are my workmen there , Are glad to take vp fooles in haste , and run away for feare . For fansie hath such force , it ouerfloweth all , And whispring tales do blow the blasts , that make it ryse & fall . Thus in these tempests tost , my restles life doth stand : Because I builded on thy wodres , as I was borne in hand . Thou weart that only stake , wereby I ment to stay : Alas , alas , thou stoodst so weake , the hedge is borne away . By thee I thought to liue , by thee now must Idye : I made thee my Phisicion , thou art my mallady . For thee I longde to liue , for thée nowe welcome death : And welcome be that happie pang , that stops my gasping breath . Twise happie were that axe , would cut my rotes downe right : And sacred were that swelling sea , which would consume me quight . Blest were that bowe would breake to bring downe climing youth , Which craks aloft , and quakes full oft , for feare of thine vntruth . Ferenda Natura .

The constancie of a louer hath thus sometimes bene briefly declared . THat selfe same tonge which first did thée entreat To linke thy liking with my lucky loue : That trustie tonge must nowe these wordes repeate , I loue thee still , my fancie cannot moue . That dreadlesse hart which durst attempt the thought To win thy will with mine for to consent , Maintaines that vow which loue in me first wrought , I loue thee still , and neuer shall repent . That happie hande which hardely did touch , Thy tender body to my déepe delight : Shall serue with sword to proue my passion such . As loues thee still , much more than it can write . Thus loue I still with tongue , hand , hart and all , And when I chaunge , let vengeance on me fall . Ferenda Natura .

¶ The fruite of foes written to a Gentlewoman , who blamed him for writing his friendly aduise in verse vnto another louer of hyrs . THe cruell hate which boyles within thy burning brest , And séekes to shape a sharpe reuenge , on them that loue thée best : May warne all faithfull friendes , in case of ieopardie , Howe they shall put their harmelesse hands , betwéene the barck & trée . And I among the rest , which wrote this weary song , Must nedes alledge in my defence , that thou hast done me wrong . For if in simple verse , I chaunc'd to touch thy name , And toucht the same without reproch , was I therefore to blame ? And if ( of great good will ) I gaue my best aduise , Then thus to blame without cause why , me thinkes thou art not wise . Amongst olde written tales , this one I beare in mind , A simple soule much like my selfe , dyd once a serpent find . Which ( almost dead for colde ) lay moyling in the myre , When he for pittie tooke it vp , and brought it to the fyre . No sooner was the Snake , recured of hir griefe , But straight shée sought to hurt the man , that lent hir such reliefe . Such Serpent séemest thou , such simple soule am I , That for the weight of my good wil , am blam'd without cause why . But as it best beseemes , the harmelesse gentle hart , Rather to take an open wrong , than for to plaine his part : I must and will endure , thy spite without repent , The blame is mine , the triumph thine , and I am well content . Meritum petere , graue .

A Louer often warned , and once againe drouen into fantasticall flames by the chase of company , doth thus bewayle his misfortunes . I That my race of youthfull yéeres had roon , Alwayes vntyed , and not ( but once ) in thrall , Euen I which had the fieldes of fréedome woon , And liu'd at large , and playde with pleasurs ball : Lo nowe at last am tane agayne and taught , To tast such sorowes , as I neuer sought . I loue , I loue , alas I loue indéede , Ierie alas but no man pityes me : My woundes are wide , yet seme they not to bléed , And hidden woundes are hardly heald we sée . Such is my lucke to catch a sodain clappe , Of great mischaunce in séeking my good happe . My morning minde which dwelt and dyed in dole . Sought company for solace of the same : My cares were cold , and craued comforts coale , To warme my will with flakes of friendly flame . I sought and found , I crau'd and did obtaine , I woon my wish , and yet I got no gaine . For whiles I sought the cheare of company , Fayre fellowship did wonted woes reuiue : And crauing medcine for my maladie , Dame pleasures plasters prou'd a corosiue . So that by myrth , I reapt no fruite but mone , Much worse I fere , than when I was alone . The cause is this , my lot did light to late , The Byrdes were flowen before I found the nest : The stéede was stollen before I shut the gate , The cates consumd , before I smelt the feast . And I fond foole with emptie hand must call , The gorged Hauke , which likes no lure at all . Thus still I toyle , to till the barraine land , And grope for grappes among the bramble briers : I striue to saile and yet I sticke on sand , I déeme to liue , yet drowne in déepe desires . These lottes of loue , are fitte for wanton will , Which findes too much , yet must be séeking still . Meritum petere graue .

The louer encouraged by former examples , determineth to make vertue of necessitie . WHen I record with in my musing mind , The noble names of wightes bewicht in loue : Such solace for my selfe therin I finde , As nothing maye my fixed fansie moue : But paciently I will endure my wo , Because I sée the heauens ordayne it so . For whiles I read and ryfle their estates , In euery tale I note mine owne anoye : But whiles I marke the meanings of their mates , I séeme to swime in such a sugred ioye , As did ( parcase ) entise them to delight , Though turnd at last , to drugges of sower despite . Peruse ( who list ) Dan Dauids perfect déedes , There shall he find the blot of Bersabe , Wheron to thinke , my heauy hart it bléedes , When I compare my loue like hir to be : Vrias wife before mine eyes that shines , And Dauid I , from dutie that declines . Then Salomon this princely Peophetes sonne , Did Pharaos daughter make him fall or no ? Yes , yes , perdie his wisdome coulde not shoone Hir subtill snares , nor from hir counsell go . I nam * * Am not . ( as hée ) the wisest wight of all , But well I wot , a woman holdes me thrall . So am I lyke the proude Assirian Knight , Which blasphem'd God , and all the world defied : Yet could a woman ouercome his might , And daunt his force in all his Pompe and Pride . I Holiferne , am dronken brought to bead , My loue lyke Iudith , cutting of my head . If I were strong , as some haue made accompt , Whose forre is like to that which Sampson had ? If I be bolde , whose courage can surmount , The heart of Hercules , which nothing drad ? Yet Dalila , and Deyanyraes loue , Dyd teach them both , such panges as I must proue . Well let these passe , and thinke on Nasoes name , Whose skilfull verse dyd flowe in learned style : Dyd hée ( thinke you ) not dote vpon his Dame ? Corinna fayre , dyd shée not him beguile ? Yes God he knowes , for verse nor pleasaunt rymes , Can constant kéepe , the key of Cressides crimes . So that to ende my tale as I began , I see the good , the wise , the stoute , the bolde : The strongest champion and the learnedst man , Haue bene and bée , by lust of loue controlde . Which when to thinke , I hold me well content , To liue in loue , and neuer to repen● . Meritum petere , graue .

The delectable history of sundry aduentures passed by Dan Bartholmew of Bathe ,

The Reporter . TO tell a tale without authoritye , Or fayne a Fable by inuencion , That one procéedes of quicke capacitye , That other proues but small discretion , Yet haue both one and other oft bene done . And if I were a Poet as some be , You might perhappes here some such tale of me . But far I fynde my féeble skyll to faynt , To faine in figurs as the learned can , And yet my tongue is tyde by due constraint , To tell nothing but trueth of euery man : I will assay euen as I first began , To tell you nowe a tale and that of truth , Which I my selfe sawe proued in my youth . I néede not séeke so farre in costes abrode , As some men do , which write strange historyes , For whiles at home I made my cheife abode And sawe our louers plaie their Tragedyes , I found enough which séemed to suffice , To set on worke farre finer wittes than mine , In paynting out the pangs which make them pine . Amongst the rest I most remember one Which was to me a déere familyar friend , Whose doting dayes since they be paste and gone , And his annoye ( neare ) come vnto an ende , Although he séeme his angry brow to bend , I wyll be bold ( by his leaue ) for to tell , The restlesse state wherein he long dyd dwell . Learned he was , and that became him best , For though by birth he came of worthy race , Yet beutie , byrth , braue personage , and the rest , In euery choyce , must needes giue learning place : And as for him he had so hard a grace , That by aspect he seemde a simple man , And yet by learning much renowne he wan . His name I hide , and yet for this discourse , Let call his name Dan Bartholmew of Bathe , Since in the ende he thither had recourse , And ( as he sayd ) dyd skamble there in skathe : In déede the rage which wrong him there , was rathe , As by this tale I thinke your selfe will gesse , And then ( with me ) his lothsome lyfe confesse . For though he had in all his learned lore , Both redde good rules to bridle fantasie , And all good authours taugh him euermore , To loue the meane , and leaue extremitie , Yet kind hath lent him such a qualitie , That at the last he quite forgat his bookes , And fastned fansie with the fairest lookes . For proofe , when gréene youth lept out of his eye , And left him now a man of middle age , His happe was yet with wandring lookes to spie , A fayre yong impe of proper personage , Eke borne ( as he ) of honest parentage : And truth to tell , my skill it cannot serue , To praise hir bewtie as it dyd deserue . First for hir head , the béeres were not of Gold , But of some other metall farre more fine , Whereof eache crinet seemed to behold , Like glistring wiers against the Sunne that shine , And therewithall the blazing of hir eyne , Was like the beames of Titan , truth to tell , Which glads vs all that in this world do dwell . Vpon hir chéekes the Lillie and the Rose , Did entremeete , with equall change of hewe , And in hir giftes no lacke I can suppose , But that at last ( alas ) she was vntrue , Which flinging fault , bicause it is not new , Nor seldome seene in kits of Cressides kind , I maruaile not , nor beare it much in mind . Dame Natures fruits , wherewith hir face was fraught , Were so frost bitten with the cold of craft , That all ( saue such as Cupides snares had caught ) Might soone espie the fethers of his shaft : But Bartholmew his wits had so bedaft , That all seemd good which might of hir be gotten , Although it proude no sooner ripe than rotten . That mouth of hirs which séemde to flowe with mell , In spéeche , in voice , in tender touch , in tast , That dympled chin wherein delight dyd dwell , That ruddy lippe wherein was pleasure plast , Those well shapt hands , fine armes and slender wast , With al the giftes which gaue hir any grace , Were smiling baites which caught fond fooles apace . Why striue I then to paint hir name with praise ? Since forme and fruites were found so farre vnlyke , Since of hir cage Inconstance kept the keyes , And Change had cast hir honoure downe in dike : Since fickle kind in hir the stroke did strike , I may no prayse vnto a knife bequeath , With rust yfret , though paynted be the sheath . But since I must a name to hir assigne , Let call hir now Ferenda Natura , And if thereat she séeme for to repine , No force at all , for hereof am I sure a , That since hir prankes were for the most vnpure a. I can appoint hir well no better name , Than this where in dame Nature bears the blame . And thus I say , when Bartholmew had spent His pride of youth ( vntide in linkes of loue ) Behold how happe contrary to intent , ( Or destenies ordained from aboue , ) From which no wight on earth maye well remoue ) Presented to his vew this fierie dame , To kindle coles where earst had bene no flame . Whome when he sawe to shine in séemely grace , And therewithall gan marke hir tender youth , He thought not like , that vnder such aface She could conuey the treason of vntruth : Whereby be vowed ( alas the more his ruth ) To serue this saynt for terme of all his life , Lo here both roote and rind of all his strife . I cannot nowe in louing termes displaye His suite , his seruice , nor his sorie fare : His obseruaunces , nor his queynt aray , His skalding sighes , nor yet his cooling care , His wayting still to snatch himselfe in snare , I can not write what was his swéetest soure , For I my selfe was neuer Paramoure . But to conclude , much worth in litle writte , The highest flying hauke will stoupe at laste , The wildest beast is drawne with hungrye bitte . To eate a homlye bayte some times in hast , The pricke of kinde can neuer be vnplaste , And so it séemed by this dayntye dame , Whome he at last with labour did reclame . And when he had with mickel payne procured The calme consent of hir vnweldie will , When he had hir by faith and troth assured , To like him best , and aye to loue him still , When fansie had of flatterie fedde his fill , I not discerne to tell my tale aright , What man but he had euer such delight ? The lingring dayes he spent in trifling toyes , To whette the tooles which carued his contente : The poasting nightes he past in pleasing ioyes , Wearing the webbe which loue to him had lente : In such a pinfolde were his pleasures pent That selde he could hir company eschewe , Or leaue such lookes as might his * * Lacke . sport renewe . But if by force he forced were to parte , Then mighte you see howe fansie fedde his minde , Then all alone he mused on his marte . All company séemde then ( but hirs ) vnkind : Then sent he tokens true loue for to bind , Then wrote he letters , lines and louing layes , So to beguile his absent dolefull dayes . And since I know as others eake can tell , What skyll he had , and howe he could endite , Mée thinkes I cannot better doe than well , To set downe here , his ditties of delyght , For so at least I maye my selfe acquite , And vaunt to shewe some verses yet vnknowne , Well worthy prayse though none of them myne owne . No force for that , take you them as they be , Since mine emprice is but to make report : Imagine then , before you that you sée A wight bewitcht in many a subtile sort , A Louer lodgd in pleasures princely port , Vaunting in verse what ioyes be dyd possesse , His triumphes here I thinke wyll shewe no lesse .

Dan Bartholmew his first Triumphe . REsigne king Priams sonnes , that princes were in Troy , Resigne to me your happy dayes , and boast no more of ioy : Syr Paris first stand forth make aunswere for thy pheare , And if thou canst defend hir cause , whome Troy did bye so deare : What ? blush not man , be bold , although thou beare some blame , Tell truth at last , and so be sure to saue thy selfe from shame . Then gentle Sheapheard say : what madnesse dyd thée moue , To choose of all the flowers in Greece , foule Helene for thy loue ? Néeds must I coumpt hir foule , whose first frutes were forlorne ? Although she solde hir seconde chaffe , aboue the price of corne . Alas , shée made of thée , a noddye for the nonce , For Menelaus lost hir twise , though thou hir foundst but once . But yet if in thine eye , shée séemde a péerelesse péece , Aske Theseus that mighty Duke , what towns she knew in Greece ? Aske him what made hir leaue hir wofull aged sire , And steale to Athens gyglot like : what ? what but foule desire ? Alas poore Paris thou didst nothing else but gleane , The partched eares which he cast by , when he had reaped cleane : He sliude the gentle slippe , which could both twist and twind , And growing left the broken braunch , for them that came behind , Yet hast thou fild the world with brute , ( the more thy blame , ) And sayest , that Hellens bewty past each other stately dame , For profe thou canst alledge the tast of ten years warre , And how hir blazing beames first brought both Greece & Troy to iarre No no , thou art deceiude , the drugs of of foule despite , Did worke in Menelaus will , not losse of such delighte , Not loue , but lothsome hate , not dolour , but disdain , Did make him selfe a sharpe reuenge , til both his foes were slain , Thy brother Troylus eke , that gemme of gentle déedes , To thinke howe he abused was , alas my heart it bléedes : He bet about the bushe , whiles other caught the birds , Whome crafty Gresside mockt to muche , yet fede him still with words . And god he knoweth not I , who pluckt hir first sprong rose , Since Lollius and Chaucer both , make doubt vpon that glose . But this I knowe to well , and he to farre it felte , How Diomede vndid his knots , & caught both brooch and belt , And how she chose to change , and how she changed still , And how she dyed leaper like , a gainst hir louers will . Content you then good knightes , your triumphe to resigne , Confesse your starres both dimme and darke , wheras my sunne doth shine : For this I dare avow , without vaunt be it told , My derling is more faire than she , for whome proud Troy was solde . More constant to conteyne , than Cresside to be eoy , No Calcas can contriue the craft , to traine hir out of Troye , No Diomede can drawe hir setled harte to change , No madding moode can moue hir mind , nor make hir thoughtes to range , For hir alone it is , that Cupide blindfolde goes , And dare not looke for feare least he his libertie should loose : At hir dame Venus chafes , and pines in ielowsie , Least bloudy Mars should hir espie , and chang his fantasie , Of hir the Quene of Heauen doth stand in dreadfull doubt , Least Ioue should melte in drops of gold , if once he find hir out . Oh that my tonge had skill , to tell hir prayse aright , Or that my pen hir due desertes , in worthy verse could write : Or that my minde could muse , or happie heart conceiue , Some words that might resound hir worth , by high Mineruas leaue . Oh how the blooming ioyes , do blossome in my brest , To think within my secret thought , how far she steines the rest . Me thinkes I heare hir speake , me thinkes I sée hir still , Me thinkes I feele hir féelingly , me thinkes I know hir will . Me thinkes I sée the states which sue to hir for grace , Me thinkes I sée one looke of hirs repulse them all apace . Me thinkes that houre is yet , and euermore shall be , Wherein my happie happe was first , hir heauenly face to sée : Wherein I spide the writte , which woond betwéene hir eyne , And sayd behold , be bold , for I , am borne to be but thine . Me thinks I féele the ioyes , which neuer yet were felt , Whome flame before yet neuer toucht , me thinks I feele them melt . One word & there an end , me thinks she is the sunne , Which only shineth now a daies , she dead , the world were done . The rest are twinkling starres , or Moones which borow light , To comfort other carefull soules , which wander in the night . And night God knowes it is , where other Ladies bée , For sure my dame adornes the day , there is no sunne but shée . Then louers by your leaue , and thinke it nothing strange , Although I seme with calme content , in seas of ioyes to range : For why , my sailes haue found both wind and waues at wyll , And depthes of all delightes in hir , with whome I trauell styll . And ancors being wayed , I leaue you all at large , To steare this seemelye Shippe my selfe , suche is my mistresse charge . Fato non fortuna .

Dan Bartholmew his second Triumphe . FYe pleasure fye , thou cloyest me with delight , Thou fylst my mouth with sweete meates ouermuch , I wallow styll in ioye both daye and night . I déeme , I dreame , I doe , I taste , I touch : No thing but all that smelles of perfect blisse , Fye pleasure fye , I cannot like of this . To taste ( sometimes ) a baite of bytter gall , To drinke a draught of sower Ale ( some season ) To eate browne bread with homely handes in Hall. Doth much encrease mens appetites by reason : And makes the swéete more sugred that ensewes , Since mindes of men do styll seeke after newes . The pampred horse is seldome séene in breath , Whose maunger makes his greace ( oftimes ) to melt , The crammed Fowle comes quickly to his death . Such coldes they catche in hottest happes that swelt . And I ( much like ) in pleasure scawled styll , Doe feare to starue although I feede my fill . It might suffice that loue hath built his bowre , Betwene my Ladies liuely shyning eyes , It were inough that Bewties fading flowre : Growes euer freshe with hir in heauenly wise . It had bene well that shée were faire of face , And yet not robbe all other Dames of grace . To muse in minde , how wise , how faire , how good , How braue , howe franke , how curteous , and how true , My Ladys is : doth but inflame my blood , With humors such , as byd my health adue . Since happe alwaies when it is clombe on hye , Doth fall full lowe , though earst it reachte the Skye . Lo pleasure lo , lo thus I leade a life , That laughes for ioye , and trembleth oft for dread , Thy panges are such as call for changes knife , To cut the twist , or else to stretch the thread . Which holdes yféere the bondell of my blisse , Fye pleasure fye , I dare not trust to this . Fato non fortuna .

Dan Bartholmewes his third Triumphe . YF euer man yet found the bathe of perfect blisse , Then swimme I now amid the seas where nought but pleasure is . I loue and am beloued , without vaunt be it tolde , Of one more faire then she of Greece , for whome proud Troy was solde . As bountifull and good as Cleopatra Queene , As constant as Penelope , vnto her make was séene . What would you more ? my penne , vnable is to write , The least desert that séemes to shine within this worthy wight . So that ( for nowe ) I ceasse with handes helde vp on hye . And craue of God that when I chaunge , I may be forst to dye . Fato non Fortuna .

The Reporter . THese vaunting verses with a many mo , ( To his mishap ) haue come vnto my handes , Whereof the rest ( bicause he sayled so , In braggers boate which set it selfe on sandes , And brought him eke fast bound in follyes bands ) Of curtesie I kéepe them from your sight , Let these suffice which of my selfe I write . The highest trée that euer yet could growe , Although full fayre it slorisht for a season , Founde yet at last some fall to bring it lowe , This olde sayd sawe is ( God he knoweth ) not geason : For when things passe the reach and bounds of reason . They fall at last , although they stand a time , And bruse the more , the higher that they clime . So Bartholmew vnto his paine dyd proue , For when he thought his hap to be most hye , And that he onely reapt the fruictes of loue . And that he swelt in all prosperitie , His comfort chaunged to calamitie : And though I doe him wrong to tell the same , Yet reade it you , and let me beare the blame . The Saint he seru'd became a craftie deuill , His goddesse to an Idoll séemde to chaunge , Thus all his good transformed into euill , And euery ioy to raging griefe dyd raunge : Which Metamorphosis was maruels straunge : Yet shall you seldome otherwise it proue , Where wicked Lust doth beare the name of Loue . This sodaine chaunge when he began to spye , And colde suspect into his minde had crept , He bounst and bet his head tormentingly , And from all company him selfe he kept , Wherby so farre in stormes of strife he stept , That nowe he séemed an Image not a man , His eyes so dead , his colour waxt so wan . And I which alwayes beare him great good wyll , ( Although I knew the cause of all his griefe , And what had trainde and tysed him theretyll , And plaine to speake , what moued his mischiefe ) Yet since I sought to ease him with reliefe : I dyd become importunate to knowe , The secréete cause whereon this grudge should growe . At last with much ado , his trembling tonge , Bewrayde th effect of his vnwylling wyll , Which here to tell since it were all to longe , And I therewith too barren am of skyll , And trouble you with tedious tydinges styll , Content you now to heare himselfe rehearse , His strange affectes in his lamenting verse . Which verse he wrote at Bathe ( as earst was sayd ) And there I sawe him when he wrote the same , I sawe him there with many moanes dismaide , I sawe him there both fryse and flashe in flame , I sawe him gréeu'd when others made good game : And so appeareth by his darke discourse , The which to reade I craue your iust remorse .

Dan Bartholmewes Dolorous discourses . I Haue entreated care to cut the thread , Which all to long hath held my lingring life , And here aloofe nowe haue I hyd my head , From company thereby to stint my strife . This solitarye place doth please me best , Where I may weare my wylling mind with moane , And where the sighes which boyle out of my brest , May skald my heart , and yet the cause vnknowne . All this I doe , for thee my swéetest sowre , For whome ( of yore ) I counted not of care , For whome with hungrie iawes I dyd deuoure . The secrete baite which lurked in the snare : For whome I thought all forreine pleasures paine , For whome againe , all paine dyd pleasure séeme , But onely thine , I found all fansies vaine , But onely thine , I dyd no dolours déeme . Such was the rage , that whilome dyd possesse , The priuie corners of my mazed mind : When hote desire , dyd compt those tormentes lesse . Which gaind the gaze that dyd my fréedome bind . And now ( with care ) I can record those dayes , And call to mind the quiet lyfe I led , Before I first beheld thy golden rayes , When thine vntrueth yet troubled not my hed . Remember thou , as I can not forget , Howe I had layde , both loue , and lust aside , And howe I had my fixed fancie set . In constant vowe , for euer to abide . The bitter proofe of panges in pleasure past , The costlye tast , of hony mixt with gall : The painted heauen , which turnde to hell at last . The freedome fainde , which brought me but to thrall . The lingring sute , well fed with freshe delayes , The wasted vowes which fled with euery winde : The restlesse nightes , to purchase pleasing dayes , The toyling daies to please my restlesse minde . All these ( with mo ) had brused so my brest , And graft such grefe within my groning heart , That had I left Dame fansie and the rest . To gréener yéeres , which might endure the smart . My wearie bones did beare away the skarres , Of many a wound receiued by disdaine : So that I found the fruite of all those warres , To be naught else but panges of vnknowen paine . And nowe mine eyes were shut from such delight , My fansie faint , my hote desires were colde , When cruell hap , presented to my sight . The maydens face , in yéeres which were not olde . I thinke the Goddesse of reuenge deuisde , So to bée wreackt on my rebelling wyll , Bicause I had in youthfull yéeres dispisde , To taste the baites , which tyste my fansie styll . Howe so it were , God knowes , I cannot tell : But if Ilye , you Heauens , the plague be mine , I sawe no sooner , how delight dyd dwell Betwéene those litle infantes eyes of thine , But straight a sparkling cole of quicke desire , Dyd kindle flame within my frozen heart , And yelding fansie softly blewe the fire , Which since hath bene the cause of all my smart . What néede I say ? thy selfe for me can sweare , Howe much I tendred thée in tender yeares : Thy life was then to me ( God knowes ) full deare , My life to thée is light , as nowe appeares . I loued the first , and shall do to my last , Thou flattredst first , and so thou wouldst do styll : For loue of thée full many paines I past , For deadly hate thou seekest me to kyll . I cannot nowe , with manly tongue rehearse , How sone that melting mind of thine dyd yelde , I shame to write , in this waymenting verse , With howe small fight , I vanquisht thée in fielde : But Caesar he , which all the world subdude , Was neuer yet so proude of Victorye , Nor Hanyball , with martiall feates endude . Dyd so much please himselfe in pollicie , As I ( poore I ) dyd séeme to triumphe then , When first I got the Bulwarkes of thy brest , With hote Alarmes I comforted my men , In formost ranke I stoode before the rest , And shooke my flagge , not all to shewe my force , But that thou mightst thereby perceiue my minde : Askaunces * * As who should say : lo , nowe coulde I kyll thy corce , And yet my life is vnto thée resinde . Well let this passe , and thinke vppon the ioye , The mutuall loue , the confidence , the trust , Whereby we both abandoned annoye , And fed our mindes with fruites of louely lust . Thinke on the Tythe , of kysses got by stealth , Of sweete embracinges shortened by feare . Remember that which did maintaine our helth , Alas alas why shoulde I name it here . And in the midst of all those happie dayes , Do not forget the chaunges of my chaunce , When in the depth of many waywarde wayes , I onely sought , what might thy state aduaunce . Thou must confesse how much I carde for thee , When of my selfe , I carde not for my selfe , And when my hap was in mishappes to be , Estéemd thée more , than al the worldly pelfe . Mine absente thoughtes did beate on thée alone , When thou hadst found afond and newfound choice : For lacke of thée I sunke in endlesse mone , When thou in chaunge didst tumble and reioyce . O mighty goddes néedes must I honor you , Needes must I iudge your iudgmentes to be iust , Bicause she did for sake him that was true , And with false loue , did cloke a fained luste . By high decrées , you ordayned the chaunge , To light on such , as she must néedes mislike , A méete rewarde for such as like to raunge , When fansies force , their féeble fleshe doth strike . But did I then giue brydle to thy fall , Thou head strong thou accuse me if thou can ? Did I not hazard loue yea life and all , To warde thy will , from that vnworthy man ? And when by toyle I trauayled to finde , The secrete causes of thy madding moode , I found naught else but tricks of Cressides kinde , Which playnly proude , that thou weart of hir bloud . I found that absent Troylus was forgot , When Dyomede had got both brooch and belt , Both gloue and hand , yea harte and all god wot , When absent Troylus did in sorowes swelt . These tricks ( with mo ) thou knowst thy self I found , Which nowe are néedelesse here for to reherse , Vnlesse it were to touche a tender wound , With corosiues my panting heart to perse . But as the Hounde is counted little worth , Which giueth ouer for a losse or twaine , And cannot find the meanes to single forth . The stricken Deare which doth in heard remaine : Or as the kindly Spaniell which hath sprong The prety Partriche , for the Falcons flight , Doth neuer spare but thrusts the thornes among , To bring this byrd yet once againe to sight , And though he knowe by proofe ( yea dearely bought ) That selde or neuer , for his owne auaile , This wearie worke of his in vaine is wrought , Yet spares he not but labors-tooth and nayle . So labord I to saue thy wandring shippe , Which reckelesse then , was running on the rockes , And though I saw thée séeme to hang the lyppe . And set my great good wyll , as light as flockes : Yet hauld I in , the mayne sheate of the minde , And stayed thy course by ancors of aduice , I woon thy wyll into a better winde , To saue thy ware , which was of precious price . And when I had so harbored thy Barke , In happy hauen , which saufer was than Douer , The Admyrall , which knewe it by the marke , Streight challengde all , and sayd thou wert a rouer . Then was I forst in thy behalfe to pleade , Yea so I dyd , the Iudge can saye no lesse , And whiles in toyle , this lothsome life I leade , Camest thou thy selfe the faulte for to confesse , And downe on knée before thy cruell foe , Dydst pardon craue , accusing me for all , And saydst I was the cause , that thou didst so , And that I spoone the thred of all thy thrall . Not so content , thou furthermore didst sweare These thinges are mistical and not to bee vnderstoode but by Thaucthour him selfe . That of thy selfe thou neuer ment to swerue , For proofe wherof thou didst the colours weare , Which might bewray , what saint thou ment to serue . And that thy blood was sacrificed eke , To manyfest thy stedfast martyrd mynde , Till I perforce , constraynd thée for to séeke , These raging seas , aduentures thereto finde . Alas , alas , and out alas for me , Who am enforced , thus for to repeate The false reports and cloked guyles of thée , Whereon ( to oft ) my restlesse thoughts do beate . But thus it was , and thus God knowes it is . Which when I founde by playne and perfect proofe , My musing minde then thought it not amisse , To shrinke aside , lamenting all aloofe . And so to beate my simple shiftlesse brayne , For some deuice , that might redéeme thy state , Lo here the cause , for why I take this payne , Lo how I loue the wight which me doth hate : Lo thus I lye , and restlesse rest in Bathe , Whereas I bathe not now in blisse pardie , But boyle in Bale and skamble thus in skathe , Bycause I thinke on thine vnconstancie . And wylt thou knowe howe here I spend my time , And howe I drawe my dayes in dolours styll ? Then staye a while : giue eare vnto my rime , So shalt thou know the weight of all my wyll . When Titan is constrained to forsake , His Lemans couche , and clymeth to his carte , Then I begin to languishe for thy sake , And with a sighe , which maye bewray my smarte . I cleare mine eyes whome gumme of teares had glewed , And vp on foote I set my ghostly corse , And when the stony walles haue oft renewed . My pittious plaintes , with Ecchoes of remorce , Then doe I crye and call vpon thy name , And thus I saye , thou curst and cruell bothe , Beholde the man , which taketh griefe for game , And loueth them , which most his name doe lothe . Behold the man which euer truely ment , And yet accusde as aucthour of thine yll , Behold the man , which all his life hath spent . To serue thy selfe , and aye to worke thy wyll : Behold the man , which onely for thy loue , Dyd loue himselfe , whome else he set but light : Behold the man , whose blood ( for thy behoue ) Was euer prest to shed it selfe outright . And canst thou nowe condemne his loyaltie ? And canst thou craft to flatter such a friend ? And canst thou sée him sincke in ieoperdie ? And canst thou seeke to bring his life to ende ? Is this the right reward for such desart ? Is this the fruite of seede so timely sowne ? Is this the price , appointed for his part ? Shall trueth be thus by treason ouerthrowne ? Then farewell faith , thou art no womans pheare : And with that word I staye my tongue in time , With rolling eyes I loke about eache where , Least any man should heare my rauing rime . And all in rage , enraged as I am , I take my sheete , my slippers and my Gowne , And in the Bathe from whence but late I came , I cast my selfe in dollours there to drowne . There all alone I can my selfe conueye , Into some corner where I sit vnseene , And to my selfe ( there naked ) can I saye , Behold these braune falne armes which once haue bene . Both large and lustie , able for to fight , Nowe are they weake , and wearishe God he knowes Vnable now to daunt the fowle despight , Which is presented by my cruel foes . My thighes are thin , my body lanck and leane , It hath no bumbast now , but skin and bones : And on mine Elbowe as I lye and leane , I sée a trustie token for the nones . Another misterie . I spie a bracelet bounde about mine arme , Which to my shaddowe séemeth thus to saye , Beleeue not me : for I was but a Charme , To make thée sleepe , when others went to playe . And as I gaze thus galded all with griefe , I finde it fazed almost quite in sunder , Then thinke I thus : thus wasteth my reliefe , And though I fade , yet to the world no wonder . For as this lace , by leysure learnes to weare , So must I faint , euen as the Candle wasteth , These thoughts ( déere swéet ) within my brest I beare , And to my long home , thus my life it hasteth . Herewith I téele the droppes of sweltring sweate , Which trickle downe my face , enforced so , And in my body féele I lykewise beate , A burning heart which tosseth too and fro . Thus all in flames I sinderlyke consume , And were it not that wanhope lendes me wynde , Soone might I fret my facyes all in fume , And lyke a Ghost my ghost his graue might finde . But frysing hope doth blowe ful in my face , And colde of cares becommes my cordiall , So that I styl endure that yrksome place , Where sorrowe seethes to skalde my skinne withal . And when from thence or company me drieus , Or weary woes do make me change my seate , Then in my bed my restlesse paines reuiues , Vntil my fellowes call me downe to meate . And when I ryse , my corpse for to araye , I take the glasse , sometimes ( but not for pride , For God he knowes my minde is not so gaye ) But for I would in comelynesse abyde : I take the glasse , wherein I seeme to sée , Such wythred wrinckles and so fowle disgrace , Another misterie . That lytle maruaile séemeth it to mée , Though thou so well dydst like the noble face . The noble face was faire and freshe of hewe , My wrinckled face is fowle and fadeth fast : The noble face was vnto thée but newe , My wrinckled face is olde and cleane outcast : The noble face might moue thée with delight , My wrinckled face could neuer please thine eye : Loe thus of crime I couet thée to quite . And styll accuse my selfe of Surcuydry : As one that am vnworthy to enioye , The lasting fruite of suche a loue as thine , Thus am I tickled styll with euery toye , And when my Fellowes call me downe to dyne , No chaunge of meate prouokes mine appetite , Nor sauce can serue to taste my meates withall , Then I deuise the iuyce of grapes to dight , For Sugar and for Sinamon I call , For Ginger , Graines , and for eche other spice , Wherewith I mixe the noble Wine apace , My Fellowes prayse the depth of my deuise , Another misterie . And saye it is as good as Ippocrace . As Ippocrace saye I ? and then I swelt , My faynting lymmes straight fall into a sowne , Before the taste of Ippocrace is felt , The naked name in dollours doth mée drowne , For then I call vnto my troubled mynde , That Ippocrace hath bene thy daylye drinke , That Ippocrace hath walkt with euerye winde . In bottels that were fylled to the brinke . With Ippocrace thou banquetedst full ofte , With Ippocrace thou madst thy selfe full merrye , Such chéere had set thy new loue so alofte , That olde loue nowe was scarcely worth a cherry . And then againe I fall into a traunce , But when my breth returnes against my wyll , Before my tongue can tell my wofull chaunce , I heare my fellowes how they whisper still . One sayth that Ippocrace is contrary , Vnto my nature and complexion , Whereby they iudge that all my malladye , Was long of that by alteration . An other sayth , no , no this man is weake , And for such weake , so hote thinges are not best , Then at the last I heare no lyar speake , But one which knowes the cause of mine vnrest ▪ And sayth , this man is ( for my life ) in loue , He hath receiued repulse , or dronke disdaine . Alas crye I : and ere I can remoue , Into a sowne I sone returne againe . Thus driue I foorth , my doolefull dining time , And trouble others with my troubles styll , But when I here , the Bell hath passed prime , Into the Bathe I wallowe by my wyll , That there my teares ( vnsene ) might ease my griefe , For though I starue yet haue I fed my fill , In priuie panges I count my best relife . And still I striue in weary woes to drench , But when I plondge , than woe is at an ebbe , My glowing coles are all to quicke to quenche . And I ( to warme ) am wrapped in the webbe , Which makes me swim against the wished waue , Lo thus ( deare wenche ) I leade a lothsome life , And greedely I séeke the greedy graue , To make an ende of all these stormes and strife , But death is deafe , and heares not my desire , So that my dayes continewe styl in dole , And in my nightes I féele the secrete fire , Which close in embers , coucheth lyke a cole , And in the daye hath bene but raked vp , With couering ashes of my company , Now breakes it out , and boyles the careful cuppe , Which in my heart doth hang full heauily . I melt in teares , I swelt in chilling sweat , My swelling heart , breakes with delay of paine , I fréeze in hope , yet burne in haste of heate , I wishe for death , and yet in life remaine . And when dead sléepe doth close my dazeled eyes , Then dreadful dreames my dolors do encrease , Me thinkes I lie awake in wofull wise . And sée thée come , my sorrowes for to cease . Me séemes thou saist ( my good ) what meaneth this ? What ayles thée thus to languish and lament ? How can it be that bathing all in blisse : Such cause vnknowne disquiets thy content ? Thou doest me wrong to kéepe so close from me The grudge or griefe , which gripeth now thy heart , For well thou knowest , I must thy partner be . In bale , in blisse , in solace , and in smarte . Alas , alas , these things I déeme in dreames , But when mine eyes are open and awake , I sée not thée : where with the flowing streames , Of brinishe teares their wonted floods do make . Thus as thou séest I spend both nightes and dayes , And for I find the world did iudge me once , A witlesse wryter of these louers layes , I take my pen and paper for the nonce , I laye aside this foolishe ryding rime , And as my troubled head can bring to passe , I thus bewray the torments of my time : Beare with my Muse , it is not as it was . Fato non fortuna .

The extremitie of his Passion . AMong the toyes which tosse my braine , and reaue my mind from quiet rest , This one I finde , doth there remaine , to breede debate within my brest . When wo would work , to wound my wyl , I cannot weepe , nor waile my fyll . My tongue hath not the skill to tell , the smallest griefe which gripes my heart , Mine eyes haue not the power to swell , into such Seas of secrete smart , That will might melt to waues of woe , and I might swelt in sorrowes so . Yet shed mine eyes no trickling teares , but flouddes which flowe abundauntly , Whose fountaine first enforst by feares , found out the gappe of ielousie . And by that breache , it soketh so , that all my face , is styll on flowe . My voice is like the raging wind , which roareth still , and neuer staies , The thoughtes which tomble in my minde , are like the wheele which whirles alwayes . Nowe here , nowe there , nowe vp , now downe , in depth of waues , yet cannot drowne . The sighes which boyle out of my brest , are not lyke those , which others vse , For louers sighes , sometimes take rest , And lend their mindes , a leaue to muse . But mine are like the surging Seas , whome calme nor quiet can appeas . And yet they be but sorrowes smoke , my brest the fordge where furie playes , My panting heart , yt strikes the stroke , my fancie blowes the flame alwaies , The coles are kindled by desire , and Cupide warmes him by the fire . Thus can I neyther drowne in dole , nor burne to ashes though I waste , Mine eyes can neyther quenche the cole , which warmes my heart in all this haste . Nor yet my fancie make such flame , that I may smoulder in the same . Wherefore I come to seeke out Care , beseeching him of curtesie , To cut the thread which cannot weare , by panges of such perplexitie . And but he graunt this boone of mine , thus must I liue and euer pine . Fato non fortuna .

LO thus ( déere heart ) I force my frantike Muse , To frame a verse in spite of my despight , But whiles I doo these mirthlesse méeters vse , This rashe conceite doth reue me from delight . I call to minde howe many louing layes , Howe many Sonets , and how many songes , I dyd deuise within those happie dayes , When yet my wyl , had not receiued wronges . All which were euermore regarded so , That litle fruite I séemd thereby to reape , But rather when I had bewrayed my woe , Thy loue was light , and lusted styll to leape . The rimes which pleased thee were all in print , And mine were ragged , hard for to be read , Another similitude . Lo déere : this dagger dubbes me with this dint , And leaue this wound within my ielous head . But since I haue confessed vnto Care , That now I stand vppon his curtesie , And that the bale ; which in my brest I bare , Hath not the skill to kyll me cunningly , Therefore with all my whole deuotion , To Care I make this supplication . Fato non fortuna .

His libell of request exhibited to Care. O Curteous Care , whome others ( cruell ) call , And raile vpon thine honourable name , O knife that canst cut of the thread of thrall , O sheare that shreadst the séemerent shéete of shame , O happye ende of euery gréeuous game : Vouchsafe O Prince , thy vassall to behold , Who loues thée more , than can with tongue be told . And nowe vouchsafe to pittie this his plaint , Whose teares bewray , His truth alway , Although his feeble tongue be forst to faint . I must confesse O noble king to thée , That I haue béene a Rebell in my youth , I preast alwaies in pleasures court to bée , I fled from that , which Cupide still eschuth , I fled from Care , lo now I tell the truth , And in delightes , I loued so to dwell , Thy heauenly house dyd séeme to me but hell . Such was my rage , the which I now repent , And pardon craue , My soule to saue , Before the webbe of weary life be spent . But marke what fruites dyd grow on such a trée , What crop dyd rise vpon so rashe sowne séede , For when I thought my selfe in heauen to bée , In depth of hell I drowned was in déede : Whereon to thinke my heauie hart doth bléede : Me thought I swumme in Seas of all delight , When as I sunke in puddles of despight , Alas alas I thought my selfe belou'd , When deadly hate , Did play checke mate , With me poore pawne , that no such prancks had prou'd . This when I tryed ( ay me ) to be to true , I wept for woe , I pined all for paine , I tare my héere , I often chaunged hewe , I left delight , with dollours to complaine . I shund each place where pleasure dyd remaine , I cride , I calde on euery kinde of death , I stroue eache way to stop my fainting breath . Short tale to make , I stept so farre in strife , That still I sought , With all my thought , Some happie helpe to leaue my lothed life . But hope was he that held my hande abacke , Hope is euer contrary to a louers Passion From quicke dispatch of all my griping griefe , When heate of hate had burnt my will to wracke . Then hope was colde , and lent my life reliefe , In euery choice hope challengde to be chiefe . When coldest crampes had cleane orecome my heart , Then hope was hote , and warnde my weary smart , Then heart was heardie , hope was still in dread , When heart was faint , ( With feares attaint , ) Then hardie hope held vp my fearefull head . Thus when I found that neither flowing teares , Could drowne my heart in waues of wery wo , Nor hardy hand could ouercome my feares , To cut the sacke of all my sorrowes so , Nor death would come , nor I to death could go . And yet I felt great droppes of secrete smart , Distilling styll within my dying heart : I then perceiude that onely care was he , Which as my friend , Might make an end , Of all these paines , and set my fansie frée . Wherefore ( oh Care ) graunt thou my iust request , Oh kyll my corpse , oh quickly kyll me nowe . Oh make an ende and bring my bones to rest , Oh cut my thread ( good Care ) I care not howe , Oh Care be kinde : and here I make a vowe , That when my life out of my brest shall part , I wyll present thée with my faithfull hart : And send it to thée as a Sacrifice , Bicause thou hast , Vouchsaft at last , To ende my furies in this friendly wise . Fato non Fortuna .

WHat greater glory can a Keysar gaine , If madde moode moue his subiectes to rebell , Than that at last ( when all the traytours traine , Haue trode the pathe , of déepe repentaunce well , And naked néede with Cold and Hunger both , Hath bitten them abrode in forren land , Whereby they may their lewde deuises loth . ( When hairbraind haste , with cold aduise is scande ) If then at last , they come vpon their knée , And pardon craue with due submission : And for this cause , I thinke that Care of me , Was moued most , to take compassion . For now I find , that pittie prickes his mind , To sée me plonged still in endlesse paine , And right remorse , his princely heart doth bind , To rule the rage wherein I do remaine . I féele my teares doe now begin to stay , For Care from them their swelling springs doth soke , I feele my sighes their labours now allaye , For Care hath quencht the coles that made them smoke . I feele my panting heart begins to rest , For Care hath staide the hammers of my head , I feele the flame which blazed in my brest , Is nowe with carefull ashes ouerspread . And gentle Care , hath whet his karuing knife , To cut in twaine the thread of all my thrall , Desired death nowe ouercommeth life , And wo still workes to helpe in haste with all . But since I féele these panges approching so , And lothed life begin to take his leaue , Me thinkes it meete , to giue before I go , Such landes , and goodes , as I behind me leaue . So to discharge my troubled conscience , And eke to set an order for my heyre , Who might ( perhaps ) be put to great expence , To sue for that , which I bequeath him here . Wherefore ( déere wenche ) with all my full intent , I thus begin to make my Testament . Fato non fortuna .

His last wyll and Testament . IN Ioue his mighty name , this eight and twentith day , Of frosted bearded Ianuar , the enemy to May : Since Adam was create , fiue thousand yéeres I gesse , Fiue hundreth , forty more and fiue , as stories do expresse . I being whole of minde , ( immortall Gods haue praise ) Though in my body languishing with panges of paine alwayes , Do thus ordaine my wyll which long in woes haue wepte , Beséeching mine executours to sée it duely kept . Fyrst I bequeath my soule on Charons boate to tende , Vntill thy life ( my loue ) at last may light on luckye ende , That there it may awaite , to wayte vpon thy ghost , When thou hast quite & clene forgot what pranks now please thée most . So shall it well be séene whose loue is like to mine : For so I meane to trye my truth , and there tyll then to pine . My body he enbalmde , and cloased vp in chest , With oyntments and with spiceries of euery swéete the best : And so preserued styll vntill the day do come , That death diuorce my loue from life , & trusse hir vp in tombe . Then I bequeath my corps to couche beneathe hir bones , And there to féede the gréedy wormes that linger for the nones . To frette vppon her fleshe , which is to fine therefore , This seruice may it doe hir yet , although it do no more . My heart ( as heretofore ) I must bequeathe to Care , And God he knowes , I thinke the gift to simple for his share . But that he may perceiue , I meane to pay my dew , I will it shall be taken quicke , and borne him bléeding new , As for my funerals , I leaue that toye at large , To be as mine executours wyll giue thereto in charge . Yet if my goodes will stretche vnto my strange deuice , Then let this order be obseru'd , mine heyre shall pay the price : First let the torche bearers be wrapte in weedes of woe , Let all their lightes be virgin waxe , because I lou'de it so . And care not though the twist be course that lends them light , If fansie fume , & frée wil flame , then must they néeds burn bright , Next them let come the quier , with psalmes and dolefull song , Recording all my rough repulse and wraying all my wrong . And when the deskant singes , in tréeble tunes aboue , Then let fa burden say , ( by lowe ) I liu'd and dyde for loue : About my heauy hearse , some mourners would I haue , Who migh the same accompany and stand about the graue , But let them be such men , as maye confesse with me , How contrary the lots of loue , to all true louers bée . Let Patience be the Priest , the Clarke be Close conceipt , The Sertin be Simplicitie , which meaneth no disceipt . Let almes of Loue be delt , euen at the Chaunsell doore , And feede them there with freshe delayes , as I haue bene of yore : Then let the yongest sort , be set to ring Loues Bels , And pay Repentance for their paines , but giue them nothing else , Thus when the Dirge is done , let euery man depart , And learne by me what harme it is to haue a faithfull hart . Those litle landes I haue , mine heyre must needes possesse , His name is Lust , the landes be losse , few louers scape with lesse . The rest of all my goodes , which I not here rehearse , Giue learned Poets for their paines , to decke my Tombe with verse : And let them write these wordes vpon my carefull chest , Lo here he lies , that was as true ( in loue ) as is the best . Alas I had forgot the Parsons dewe to paye , And so my soule in Purgatorye , might remaine alway . Then for my priuie Tythes , as kysses caught by stealth , Sweete collinges & such other knackes as multiplied my wealth : I giue the Vickar here , to please his gréedie wyll , A deintie dishe of suger soppes , but saust with sorrow stil : And twise a wéeke at least , let dight them for his dishe , On Fridayes and on wednesdaies , to saue expence of fishe . Nowe haue I much bequeathed and litle left behinde , And others mo must yet be serued or else I were vnkinde . Wet eyes and wayling wordes , Executours I make , And for their paines ten pound of teares let either of them take . Let sorrow at the last my Suprauisor be , And stedfastnesse my surest steade , I giue him for his fée . Yet in his pattent place this Sentence of prouiso , That he which loueth stedfastly , shall want no sauce of sorrow . Thus now I make an ende , of this my wearie wyll , And signe it with my simple hand , and set my seale there tyll . And you which reade my wordes , although they be in rime , Yet reason may perswade you eke , Thus louers dote sometime .

The Subscription and seale . MY mansion house was Mone : from Dolours dale I came , I Fato : Non Fortuna , hight , lo now you know my name : My seale is sorrowes sythe , within a fielde of flame , Which cuts in twaine a carefull heart , that sweltreth in the same . Fato non Fortuna .

ALas , lo now I heare the passing Bell , Which Care appointeth carefullye to knoule , And in my brest , I féele my heart now swell , To breake the stringes , which ioynde it to my soule . The Crystall yse , which lent mine eyes their light , Doth now waxe dym , and dazeled all with dread , My senses all , wyll now forsake me quite , And hope of health abandoneth my head , My wearie tongue can talke no longer now , My trembling hand nowe leaues my penne to hold , My ioynts nowe stretch , my body cannot bowe , My skinne lookes pale , my blood now waxeth cold . And are not these , the very panges of death ? Yes sure ( sweete heart ) I know them so to bée , They be the panges , which striue to stop my breath , They be the panges , which part my loue from thée . What sayd I ? Loue ? Nay life : but not my loue , My life departes , my loue continues styll : My lothed lyfe may from my corpse remoue , My louing Loue shall alwayes worke thy wyll . It was thy wyll euen thus to trye my truth , Thou hast thy wyll , my truth may now be sene , It was thy wyll , that I should dye in youth , Thou hast thy wyll my yeares are yet but grene . Thy penaunce was that I should pine in paine , I haue performde thy penaunce all in wo , Thy pleasure was that I should here remaine , I haue bene glad to please thy fansie so . Nowe since I haue performed euery part Of thy commaunde , as neare as tongue can tell , Content thée yet before my muse depart , To take this Sonet for my last farewell . Fato non fortuna .

His Farewell . FArewell déere Loue whome I haue loued and shall , Both in this world , and in the world to come , For proofe whereof my sprite is Charons thrall , And yet my corpse attendant on thy toome . Farewell déere swéete , whose wanton wyll to please Eche taste of trouble séemed mell to me , Farewell swéete deare , whose doubtes for to appease , I was contented thus in bale to be . Farewell my lyfe , farewell for and my death , For thee I lyu'd for thee nowe must I dye , Farewell from Bathe , whereas I feele my breath Forsake my breast in great perplexitie , Alas how welcome were this death of mine , If I had dyde betweene those armes of thine ? Fato non Fortuna .

The Reporters conclusion . WHere might I now find flooddes of flowing teares , So to suffice the swelling of mine eyes , How might my breast vnlode the bale it beares ? Alas alas how might my tongue deuise To tell this weary tale in wofull wise ? To tell I saye these tydinges nowe of truth , Which may prouoke the craggy rockes to rush ? In depth of dole would God that I were drownde , Where flattering ioyes might neuer find me out , Or graued so within the gréedy grounde , As false delights might neuer bréede my doubt , Nor guilefull loue hir purpose bring about : Whose trustlesse traines in collours for to paint , I find by proofe my wittes are all to faint . I was that man whome destinies ordeine , To beare eche griefe that groweth on the mold , I was that man which proued to my paine , More panges at once than can with tongue be told , I was that man ( hereof you maye be hold ) Whome heauen and earth did frame to scoffe and scorne , I , I was he which to that ende was borne . Suffized not my selfe to taste the fruite , Of sugred sowres which growe in gadding yeares , But that I must with paine of lyke pursute , Perceiue such panges by paterne of my peares , And féele how fansies fume could fond my pheares ? Alas I find all fates against me bent , For nothing else I lyue but to lament . The force of friendship bound by holy othe , Dyd drawe my wyll into these croked wayes , For with my frend I went to Bathe ( though loth ) To lend some comfort in his dollie dayes , The stedfast friend stickes fast at all assayes : Yet was I loth such time to spend in vaine , The cause whereof , lo here I tell you playne . By proofe I found as you may well perceiue , That all good counsell was but worne in wast , Such painted paines his passions did deceiue . That bitter gall was mell to him in tast , Within his will such rootes of ruine plast , As graffes of griefes were only giuen to growe , Where youth did plant and rash conceite did sowe . I sawe at first his eares were open aye To euery tale which fed him with some hope , As fast againe I sawe him turne away From graue aduise , which might his conscience grope , From reasons rule his fancie lightly lope , He only gaue his mind to get that gaine , Which most he wisht and least could yet attaine . Not I alone , but many mo with me , Had found what ficklenesse his Idoll vsed , And how she claimed Cressides heire to be , And how she had his great good will abused , And how she was of many men refused , Who tride hir tricks and knew hir by the kinde , Saue only him she made no louer blinde . But what for this ? whose face is plainer séene , Than he which thinkes he walketh in a net ? Or who in bale hath euer deeper béene . Than he which thought his state might not be bet , In such a iollitye these louers iet . That weale to them doeth séeme to bée but wo. And griefe séemes ioye , they feede theyr fancyes so . Tell him that reason ought to be his rule , And he allowed no reason but his owne , Tell him that best were quicklye to recule , Before all force by feares were ouerthrowne , And that his base were better ouerblowne . Then thus to pine remedylesse in griefe , And he would saye that griefe was his reliefe . Short tale to make so long he lyued thus , Tyll at the last he gan in deede to dye , Beléeue me Lordes ( and by him that dyed for vs ) I sawe him giue to close his dying eye , I sawe him stryue and strangle passingly . And suche a griefe I tooke , that yet I not , If he or I had then more griefe ygot . But who hath séene a Lampe begyn to fade , Which lacketh oyle to feede his lyngring lyght , And then againe who so hath séene it made , With oyle and wéecke to last the longsome night : Let him conceyue that I sawe such a sight . Whereof to thinke ( although I sighde erewhile ) Loe nowe I laughe my sorrowes to beguile . Vpon the stones a trampling stéede we heard , Which came ful straight vnto our lodging doore , And straight therwith we heard how one enquirde , If such a Knight ( as I describde before ) Were lodged there : the Hoast withouten more , Sayd yes forsooth , and God he knowes ( quod he ) He is as sicke as any man maye bée . The messenger sware by no bugges I trowe , But bad our hoast to bring him where he laye , ( Quod I to Bartholmew ) I heare by lowe , A voice which séemes somewhat of you to saye : And eare that past not full a furlong waye , Behold the man came stowping in at doore , And truth to tell he syked wondrous sore . At last from out his bosome dyd he take , A Letter sealde yfolded fayre and well , And kyssing it ( I thinke for Mistresse sake ) He sayd to Bartholmew : Syr Knight be well , Nowe reade these lines the which I néede not tell , From whence they come : but make an ende of mone , For you are sicke , and she is woe begone . The théefe condemnde and gone to gallowe trée , ( If one crye Grace : lo here a Pardon prest ) Doth dye sometimes , when most he séemde to be , From death redéemd , such bronts may bréede in brest , Twyxt sodaine ioye , and thoughts which paine opprest , The Romaine Widdowe dyed when she beheld , Hir Sunne ( whome earst ) She compted slaine in field . So Bartholmew twéene griefe and sodaine ioye , Laye styll in traunce , me thinkes I sée him yet , And out of doubte it gaue me such anoye , To sée him so , him selfe in fancies fret , That sure I thought his eyes in head were set . And that he laye ( as some saye ) drawing on , Vntill his breath and all were past and gone . But high degrées of heauen which had ordainde , ( For his decaye ) a freshe delaye of paine , Reuiued him : yet from his eyes downe raind , Such rewfull teares as moued me to plaine , The dolefull plight wherein he dyd remaine . For trust me now , to sée him sorrowe so . It might haue made a stone to melt in wo. Thrise dyd his tongue beginne to tell his thought , And thrise ( alas ) it foltred in his mouth , With stopping sobbes and skalding sighes he sought . To vtter that which was to me vncouth . So staies the streame , when furiouslie it flouth . And filles the dikes where it had wont to swimme , Vntill by force it breakes aboue the brimme . At last ( with paine ) the first word that he spake , Was this : Alas , and therewithall he stayed , His feebled Iawes and hollowe voyce could make , None other sounde , his thoughtes were all dismayed , His hearye head full lowe in bosome layed . Yet when he sawe me marke what he would saye , He cryed right out Alas and wel awaye . Alas ( quod he ) deare friend behold this bloode , And with that word be gan againe to sorrowne : The messenger which in a studdye stoode , Awakt at last : and in mine eare dyd rowne , Saying : those lines which I haue there throwen downe . Were written all with blood of hir owne hande , For whome he nowe in this distresse doth stande . And since ( quod he ) She hath vouchsafed so , To shead hir blood in witnesse of hir griefe , Me thinkes he rather should relieue hir wo : Then thus deny to send hir some reliefe . Alas alas ( quod he ) she holdes him chiefe . And well wote I ( what ere his fansie bee ) There sittes no man so néere hir heart as hée . Therewith he raysde his heauy head alight , Askaunces Ha ? in déede and thinkst thou so ? But out alas his weake and weary sprit , Forbad his tongue in furder termes to go . His thought sayd Haight , his sillie speache cryed Ho. And thus he laye in dompes and dolefull trance , Tyll darksome night dyd somewhat change his chance . For when the light of day began to fade , And courtins round about his bed were drawne , A golden slomber dyd his lymmes inuade , And held him husht tyll daye againe gan dawne , Whereby Dame quiet put him in a pawne , To set his thoughts ( which striued earst ) at one , And bad debate be packing to be gone . Percase swéete loue dyd lull him so on sléepe , Perhaps Dame fansie rockt the Cradell too , How so it were I take thereof no kéepe , With such conceiptes haue I nothing to doo , But when he wakt he asked plainly who , Had brought him so from rage to quiet rest , And who had borne the torments from his brest ? ( Quod I ) my friend : here is a letter lo , Behold it here and be all hole againe , What man were he that wyther would in wo , Which thus might prosper in despite of paine ? Were he not worse then mad which would complaine , On such a friend as this to me doth séeme ? Which ( for thy health ) hir blood doth not estéeme ? Thus much I sayd to comfort him God knowes , ( But what I thought that kéepe I cloose in hold ) Sometimes a man must flatter with his foes , And sometimes saye that brasse is bright as Gold : For he that hath not all thinges as he would , Must winke sometimes , as though he dyd not sée , And séeme to thinke thinges are not as they bée . Dan Bartholmew gan take the briefe in hand , And brake the seale , but when he saw the blood , Good Lord how bolt vpright his héere dyd stand ? For though the friendly wordes therein were good , Yet many a thought they moued in his moode . As well appeared by his flecked chéekes , Nowe cherrye redde , nowe pale and gréene as léekes . I dreamt ( quod he ) that I was done to death , And that I laye full colde in earth and claye , But that I was restored vnto breath , By one that séemde lyke Pellycane to playe , Who shed his blood to giue me foode alwaye , And made me liue in spite of sorrowe styll , Sée how my dreame agrees now with this byll ? His feebled wittes forgotten had there whyle , By whome and howe he had this letter first , But when he spyde the man , then gan he smile , For secréete ioye his heart dyd séeme to burst , Now thought he best that ( earst ) he compted worst . And louingly he dyd the man embrace , And askt howe farde the roote of all his grace ? Sée sodaine chaunge , sée subtile swéete disceipte , Behold how loue can make his subiectes blinde , Let all men marke hereby what guilefull baite , Dan Cupide layeth to tyse the louers minde : Alacke alacke a slender thread maye binde , That prysonor fast , which meanes to tarrye styll , A lytle road correctes a ready wyll . The briefe was writte and blotted all with gore , And thus it sayde : Behold howe stedfast loue , Hath made me hardy ( thankes haue he therefore ) To write these wordes thy doubtes for to remoue , With mine owne blood : and yf for thy behoue . These bloody lynes do not thy Cares conuert : I vowe the next shall bleede out of my heart . I dwell to long vpon this thriftlesse tale , For Bartholmew was well appeasde hereby , And féelingly he banished his bale , Taking herein a tast of remedy , By lyte and lyte his fittes away gan flye . And in short space he dyd recouer strength , To stand on foote and take his horse at length . So that we came to London both yfere , And there his Goddesse tarryed tyll we came , I am to blame to call hir Goddesse here , Since she deserude in déede no Goddesse name , But sure I thinke ( and you may iudge the same ) She was to to him a Goddesse in his thought , Although perhaps hir Shrines was ouerbought , I maye not write what words betwéene them past . How teares of griefe were turnde to teares of ioye , Nor how their dole became delight at last . Nor how they made great myrth of much anoye , Nor how content was coyned out of coye , But what I sawe and what I well maye write , That ( as I maye ) I meane for to endite . In louely London loue gan nowe renew , This blooddye Letter made it battle much , And all the doubtes which he in fansies drew , Were done away as there had bene none such , ( But to him self● ) he bare no body grutch . Him selfe ( he sayde ) was cause of all this wo , Withouten cause that hir suspected so . O louing Youthes this glasse was made for you , And in the same you may your selues behold , Beléeue me nowe not one in all your crew , Which ( where he loues ) hath courage to be bold , Your Cressides climes are alwaies vncontrold . You dare not saye the Sunne is cleare and bright , You dare not sweare that darkesome is the night . Terence was wise which taught by Pamphilus , Howe courage quailes where loue be blinds the sence , Though proofe of times makes louers quarelous , Yet small excuse serues loue for iust defence . These Courtisanes haue power by pretence . To make a Swan of that which was a Crowe , As though blacke pitche were turned into Snowe . Ferenda , She whome heauen and earth had framde , For his decaye and to bewitche his wittes , Made him nowe thinke him selfe was to be blamde . Which causeles thus would fret himselfe in fittes , Shée made him thinke that sorrowe sildome sittes , Where trust is tyed in fast and faithfull knottes , She sayd Mistrust was méete for simple sottes . What wyl you more shée made him to beléeue , That she first loued although she yonger were , She made him thinke that his distresse dyd gréeue , Hir guiltlesse minde : and ( that it might appeare , Howe these conceiptes could ioyne or hang yfere ) She dyd confesse howe soone shée yeelded his , Such force ( quod she ) in learned men there is . She furder sayde that all to true it was , Howe youthfull yeares ( and lacke of him alone ) Had made hir once to choose out brittle glasse , For perfect Gold : She dyd confesse ( with mone ) That youthfully shee bytte a worthlesse bone . But that therein she tasted déepe delight , That sayde shée not , nor I presume to write . Shée sware ( and that I beare full well in minde ) Howe Dyomede had neuer Troylus place , Shée sayd and sware ( how euer sate the winde ) That Admirals dyd neuer know hir case , She sayd againe that neuer Noble Face , Dyd please hir eye nor moued hir to change , She sayd hir minde was neuer geuen to range . She sayd and sayd that Bracelettes were ybound , To hold him fast ( but not to charme his thought ) She wysht therewith that she were déepely drownd , In Ippocrace : if euer she had sought , Or dronke , or smelt , or tane , or found , or bought , Such Nectar droppes as she with him had dronke , ( But this were true ) she wisht hir soule were sonke . And to conclude , she sayde no printed rymes , Could please hir so as his braue Triumphes dyd : Why wander I ? She cou'red all hir crimes , With déepe disceipt , and all hir guiles she hyd , With fained teares , and Bartholmew she ryd . With double gyrthes , she byt and whyned both , And made him loue where he had cause to loth . These be the fruictes which grow on such desire , These are the gaines ygot by such an art , To late commes be that séekes to quenche the fire , When flames possesse the house in euery part , Who lyst in peace to kéepe a quiet hart . Flye loue betimes , for if he once oretake him , Then seeld or neuer shall he well forsake him . If once thou take him Tenaunt to thy brest , No wrytte nor force can serue to plucke him thence , No pylles can purge his humour lyke the rest , He bydes in bones , and there takes residence , Against his blowes no bucklar makes defence . And though ( with paine ) thou put him from thy house , Yet lurkes hée styll in corners lyke a Mouse . At euery hole he créepeth in by stelth , And priuilye he féedeth on thy crommes , With spoiles vnséene he wasteth all thy welth , He playes boe péepe when any body commes , And dastardlik he séemes to dread the drommes , Although in déede in Embushe he awaytes , To take thée stragling yf thou passe his straites . So séemed now by Bartholmews successe , Who yeelded sone vnto this second charge , Accusing styll him selfe for his distresse , And that he had so languished at large , Short worke to make : he had none other charge . To beare loues blowes , but styll to trust hir tale , And pardon craue because he bread hir bale . And thus he lyude contented styll with craft , Mistrusting most , that gaue least cause of doubt , He fledde mishappe and helde it by the haft , He banisht bale and bare it styll about , He let in loue and thought to hold him out . He séemde to bathe in perfect blisse againe , When ( God he knowes ) he fostred priuie paine . For as the Trée which crooked growes by kinde , ( Although it be with propping vnderset ) In trackt of time to crooked course wyll twinde , So could Ferenda neuer more forget , The lease at large where she hir flinges had set . But rangde againe , and to hir byas fell , Such chaunges chaunce where lust ( for loue ) doth dwell . And as it hapt ( and God his wyll it was ) Dan Bartholmew perceyude it very plaine , So that perforce he let his pleasures passe , And straue no more against the streame in vaine , But therewithall he purchased such paine , As yet I shrinke in minde thereof to muse , And maruaile more howe he the same could vse . His lustlesse limmes which wonted were to syt , In quiet chaire , with pen and paper prest , Were armed nowe with helme and harnesse fyt , To seeke aduentures boldly with the best , Hée went to warres that wont to liue in rest . And warres in deede he made withouten blowes , For why his friendes were nowe become his foes . Such was his hap to warre both night and daye , To watche and warde at euery time and tyde , Though foes were farre yet skowted he alwaye . And when they came he must their brontes abide , Who euer fled he would his head not hyde . For sure dispayre his corpse so close had armed , That by deathes darte he could no whit be harmed . In his Ensigne these collours gan he chuse , Blacke , white , and gréene , first blacke for morning mone , Then white for chaste , because he did refuse , ( Thenceforth ) to thinke but euen of hir alone . A bende of gréene : for though his ioyes were gone , Yet should it séeme he hoped for a daye , And in that bende his name he dyd displaye . That selfe same name which in his will he wrote , ( You knowe my minde ) when he was out of tune a , When he subscribde ( which may not bée forgote ) Howe that his name was Fato Non Fartuna . And as I gesse bicause his loue was Vna , That played hir pranckes according to hir kinde , He wrote these wordes hir best excuse to finde . As who should saye , lo destenies me driue , And happe could not haue ouerthrowen me thus : I constrew this because I do beléeue , That once againe he wyll bée amorous , I fere it muche by him that dyed for vs , And who so doubtes that causeles thus I faint . Let him but reade the gréene Knights heauy plaint . Bartello he which writeth ryding tales , Bringes in a Knight which cladde was all in gréene , That sighed sore amidde his gréeuous gales , And was in hold as Bartholmew hath béene . But ( for a placke ) it maye therein be séene , That , that same Knight which there his griefes begonne , Is Batts owne Fathers Sisters brothers Sonne . Well since my borrell braine is all to bloont . To giue a gesse what ende this man shall haue , And since he rageth not as he was woont . Although sometimes he séeme ( alite ) to craue , Yet wyll I not his doinges so depraue , As for to iudge ( before I see his ende ) What harder happe his angrie starres can sende . And therewithall my wearye muse desires , To take her rest : and pardon craues also , That shée presumde to bring hir selfe in bryers , By penning thus this true report of wo : With sillye grace these sorye rimes maye go , In such a rancke as Bartholmew hath plast , So that shée feares hir cunning is disgrast . But take them yet in grée as they be ment , And wayle with mée the losse of such a man : I coumpt him lost because I see him bent , To yeld againe where first his gréefe began , And though I cannot write as others can . Some mournefull verse to moue you mone his fall , Yet wéepe ( with me ) you faythfull louers all . Finis . quod Dixit & Dixit .

Lenuoye . SYr Salamanke to thée this tale is tolde , Peruse it well and call vnto thy minde , The pleasaunt place where thou dydst first behold The rewfull rymes : remember how the Winde Dyd calmelye blowe : and made me leaue behinde , Some leaues thereof : whiles I sate reading styll , And thou then séemdst to hearken with good wyll . Beléeue me nowe , hadst thou not séemd to lyke The wofull wordes of Bartholmews discourse , They should haue lyen styll drowned in the dyke , Lyke Sybylls leaues which flye with lytle force , But for thou séemdst to take therein remorce . I sought againe in corners of my brest , To finde them out and place them with the rest . Such skyll thou hast to make me ( foole ) beléeue , My bables are as braue as any bée , Well since it is so , let it neuer gréeue Thy friendly minde this worthlesse verse to sée In print at last : for trust thou vnto mée , Thine onely prayse dyd make me venture forth , To set in shewe a thing so litle worth . Thus vnto thee these leaues I recommend , To reade , to raze , to view , and to correct , Vouchsafe ( my friend ) therein for to amend That is amisse , remember that our sect , Is sure to bee with floutes alwayes infect . And since most mockes wyll light vppon my muse , Vouchsafe ( my friend ) hir faultes for to peruse . Tam Marti quam Mercurio .

❧ The fruites of Warre , written vppon this Theame , Dulce Bellum inexpertis , and it was written by peecemeale at sundrye tymes , as the Aucthour had vacaunt leysures from seruice , being begon at Delfe in Hollande , and dyrected to the ryght honourable the Lord Greye of Wylton as appeareth by the Epistle Dedicatory next following .

¶ To the Right honorable and mine especiall good Lorde , The Lorde Greye of Wylton .

MY Singular good Lorde : I am of opinion that long before this time your honour hath throughly perused the booke , which I prepared to bee sent vnto you somewhat before my comming hyther , and therewithall I doe lykewise coniectour that you haue founde therein iust cause to laugh at my follies forepassed . So that I am partly in doubte whether I were more ouerseene in my first deuising , or in my last dyrecting of the same ? But as fantasticall humours are common imperfections in greene vnmellowed braines : So hope I yet that your good Lordshippe wyll rather winke at my weakenesse in generallitie , then reproue my rashnesse in perticularitie . And because I would bee glad , to drawe your Lordshippe into forgetfulnesse thereof , by freshe recorde of some more martiall matter , as also for that I would haue your Honour perceaue that in these lyngering broyles , I doe not altogeather passe ouer my time in ydlenesse : I haue therefore thought meete nowe to present you with this Pamphlete written by stelth at such times as we Loytered from seruice . And the sobiect thereof being warre , I could not more conuenientlye addresse the same vnto any Marshiall man , then vnto your good Lordshippe : Whome I haue heard to be an vniuersall patrone of all Souldiours , and haue found to bee an exceeding fauourour of mee your vnworthy follower . The verse is roughe . And good reason , sithence it treateth of roughe matters , but if the sence be good then haue I hyt the marke which I shote at : Knowing that your Lordshippe can winne Honny out of the Thistle . And such as it is , I dyrect it vnto your Honour . Beseeching the same , to take it in 〈◊〉 ●gree , and to perceaue that I am and euer wyll continew .

Your Lordships most bounden and assured . George Gascoigne .

Dulce bellum inexpertis . TO write of Warre and wote not what it is , Nor euer yet could march where War was made , May well be thought a worke begonne amis , A rash attempt , in woorthlesse verse to wade , To tell the triall , knowing not the trade : Yet such a vaine euen nowe doth féede my Muse , That in this theame I must some labor vse . 2 And herewithal I cannot but confesse , Howe vnexpert I am in feates of warre : For more than wryting doth the same expresse , I may not boast of any cruell iarre , Nor vaunt to sée full valiant facts from farre : I haue nor bene in Turkie , Denmarke , Gréece , Ne yet in Colch , to winne a Golden fléece . 3 But nathelesse I some what reade in writte , Oh high exploits by Martiall men ydone , And therevpon I haue presumed yet , To take in hande this Poeme now begonne : Wherin I meane to tell what race they ronne , Who followe Drummes before they knowe the dubbe , And bragge of Mars before they féele his clubbe . 4 Which talk to tell , let first with penne declare à definito . What thing warre is , and wherof it procéeds , What be the fruites that fall vnto their share That gape for honor by those haughtie déeds , What bloudie broyles in euery state it bréeds : A weary worke vneths I shall it write , Yet ( as I may ) I must the same endite . 5 The Poets olde in their fonde fables faine , That mightie Mars is god of Warre and Strife , Poetes & Astronomers definition . These Astronomers thinke , where Mars doth raigne , That all bebate and discorde must be rife , Some thinke Bellona goddesse of that life : So that some one , and some another iudge , To be the cause of euery gréeuous grudge . 6 Painters description . Among the rest that Painter had some skill , Which thus in armes did once set out the same , A fielde of Genles , and on a Golden hill A stately towne consumed all with flame , On cheafe of Sable ( taken from the dame ) A sucking babe ( oh ) borne to bide myschaunce , Begoarde with bloud , and perced with a launce . 7 On high the Helme , I beare it well in minde , The Wreath was Siluer poudred all with shot , About the which ( goutté du sang ) did twinde A roll of Sable , blacke and foule beblot , The Creast two handes , which may not be forgot , For in the Right a trenchand blade did stande , And in the Left a firie burning brande . 8 Thus Poets , Painters , and Astronomers , Haue giuen their gesse this subiect to define , Yet are those thrée , and with them trauellers , Not best betrust among the Worthies nine , Their woordes and workes are déemed not diuine : But why ? God knowes ( my matter not so marre , ) Vnlesse it be bicause they faine to farre . 9 Common peoples opinion . Well then , let sée what sayth the common voice , These olde sayde sawes , of warre what can they say ? Who list to harken to their whispring noise , May heare them talke and tattle day by day , That Princes pryde is cause of warre alway : Plentie brings pryde , pryde plea , plea pine , pine peace , Peace plentie , and so ( say they ) they neuer cease . 10 And though it haue bene thought as true as stéele , Which people prate , and preach aboue the rest , Yet could I neuer any reason féele , To thinke Vox populi vox Dei est , As for my skill , I compt him but a beast , Which trusteth truth to dwell in common spéeche , Where euery lourden will become a léech . 11 Then what is warre ? define it right at last , And let vs set all olde sayde sawes aside , Let Poets lie , let Painters faigne as fast , Astronomers let marke how starres do glide , And let these Trauellers tell wonders wide : But let vs tell by trustie proufe of truth , What thing is warre which raiseth all this ruth . 12 And for my parte my fansie for to wright , The Authors definition . I say that warre is euen the scourge of God , Tormenting such as dwell in princelie plight , Yet not regarde the reaching of his rodde , Whose deedes and dueties often times are odde , Who raunge at randon iesting at the iust , As though they raignde to do euen what they lust . 13 Whome neyther plague can pull into remorse , Nor dearth can drawe to mende that is amisse , Within whose hearts no pitie findeth force , Nor right can rule to iudge what reason is . Whome sicknesse salueth not , nor bale brings blisse : Yet can high loue by waste of bloudie warre , Sende scholemaisters to teach them what they are . 14 Then since the case so plaine by proufe doth stande , That warre is such , and such alwayes it was , Howe chaunceth then that many take in hande To ioy in warre , whiles greater pleasures passe ? Who compt the quiet Burgher but an Asse , That liues at ease contented with his owne , Whiles they séeke more and yet are ouerthrowne . 15 If Mars mooue warre , as Starcoonners can tel , And Poets eke in fables vse to faine , Or if Bellona cause mennes heartes to swell By deadly grudge , by rancor or dysdaine , Then what delight may in that life remaine ? Where anger , wrath , téene , mischiefe and debate , Do still vpholde the pillers of the State ? 16 If Painters craft haue truly warre dysplayde , Then is it woorsse ( and badde it is at best ) Where townes destroyde , and fields with bloud berayde , Yong children slaine , olde widdowes foule opprest , Maydes rauished , both men and wiues distrest : Short tale to make , where sworde and cindring flame Consume as much as earth and ayre may frame . 17 If pryde make warre ( as common people prate ) Then is it good ( no doubt ) as good may bée , For pryde is roote of euill in euerie state , The sowrse of sinne , the very féend his fée , The head of Hell , the bough , the braunch , the trée , From which do spring and sproute such fleshlie seedes , As nothing else but moane and myschiefe bréedes . 18 But if warre be ( as I haue sayde before ) Gods scourge , which doth both Prince and people tame , Then warne the wiser sorte by learned lore , To flée from that which bringeth naught but blame , And let men compt it griefe and not a game , To féele the burden of Gods mightie hande , When he concludes in iudgement for to stande . 19 Oh Prince be pleasde with thine owne diademe , Confine thy countries with their common boundes , Prince . Enlarge no lande , ne stretch thou not thy streame , Penne vp thy pleasure in Repentance poundes , Least thine owne sworde because of all thy woundes : Claime nought by warre where title is not good , It is Gods scourge , then Prince beware thy bloud . 20 Oh Dukes , oh Earls , oh Barons , Knights & squiers , Kepe you content with that which is your owne , Nobilitie . Let brauerie neuer bring you in his briers , Seeke not to mowe where you no séede haue sowne , Let not your neighbors house be ouerthrowne , To make your garden straight , round , euen and square , For that is warre , ( Gods scourge ) then Lordes be ware . 21 Oh bishops , deacons , prelates , Prelacie . priests and all , Striue not for tythes , for glebelande , nor for fées , For polling Peter pens , for popish Pall , For proud pluralities , nor newe degrées , And though you thinke it lubberlike to léese , Yet shoulde you lende that one halfe of your cote : Then Priests leaue warre , and learne to sing that note . 22 Oh lawlesse Lawyers , Lawyers . stoppe your too long nose , Wherwith you smell your néedie neighbors lacke , Which can pretende a title to suppose , And in your rules vplandish loutes can racke , Till you haue brought their wealth vnto the wracke : This is plaine warre , although you terme it strife , Which God will scourge , then Lawyers leaue this life . 23 Oh Merchants make more conscience in an oth , Sell not your Silkes by danger nor deceyte , Merchants . Breake not your bankes with coine and credite bothe , Heape not your hoordes by wilinesse of weyght , Set not to sale your subtilties by sleight , Bréede no debate by bargayning for dayes , For God will skourge such guiles tenne thousand wayes . 24 Husbandmen . Oh countrie clownes , your closes sée you kéepe , With hedge , & ditche , & marke your meade with meares , Let not dame flatterie in your bosome créepe , To tell a fittone in your Landlordes eares , And say the ground is his as playne appeares . Where you but set the bounders foorth to farre : Plie you the plough and be no cause of warre . 25 Oh common people clayme nothing but right , Communaltie . And ceasse to séeke that you haue neuer lost , Striue not for trifles : make not all your might , To put your neighbours purse to néedelesse cost , When your owne gilte is spent , then farewell frost : The Lawyer gaynes , and leades a Lordly lyfe , Whiles you leese all and begge to stinte your stryfe . 26 Knew Kings and Princes what a payne it were , To winne mo realmes than any witte can wéelde , To pine in hope , to fret as fast for feare , To sée their subiects murdred in the field , To loose at last , and then themselues to yéeld , To breake sounde sléepe with carke and inward care , They would loue peace , and bidde warre well to fare . 27 If noble men and gentle bloodes yborne , Wist what it were to haue a widdowes curse , Knew they the skourge of God ( which wrongs doth skorns ) Who sees the poore still wronged to the worse , Yet stayes reuenge till he it list disburse : Wist they what were to catche Gods after clappes , Then would they not oppresse somuch perhappes . 28 These spirituall Pastors , nay these spitefull Popes , Which ought to lende a lauterne to the rest , Had they themselues but light to sée the ropes , And snares of Hell which for their feete are drest , Bicause they pill and pole , bycause they wrest . Bycause they couet more than borrell men , ( Harde be their hartes ) yet would they tremble then . 29 Lawyers and Marchants put them both yfeare , Could they foresée how fast theyr heyres lashe out , If they in minde this old Prouerbe could beare . De bonis malepartis vix ( through out ) Gaudebit tertius baeres out of doubt , They would percase more peace than plea procure , Since goods ill got , so little time endure . 30 Whiles Pierce the Plowman hopes to picke a thanke , By mouing boundes ( which got skarce graze his goose ) His Landlord lawes so long to winne that banke , Till at the last the Ferme and all flies loose , Then farewell Pierce the man proues but a mouse , And séekes a cottage if he could one get , So fayre he fisht by mouing mischief yet , 31 If common people could foresée the fine , Which lights at last by lashing out at lawe , Then who best loues this question , Myne or Thyne , Would neuer grease the gréedy sergeants pawe , But sit at home and learne this old sayde sawe , Had I reuenged bene of euery harme , My coate had neuer kept me halfe so warme . 32 But whether now ? my wittes are went awrie , I haue presumde to preache to long God wote , Where mine empryse was well to testifie How swéet warre is to such as knowe it not , I haue but toucht their yll luck and their lot , Which are the cause why strife and warres begin , Nought haue I sayd of such as serue therein . 33 And therwithal I termed haue all strife , All quarells , contecks , and all cruell iarres , Oppressions , bryberes , and all gréedy life , To be ( in genere ) no bet than warres , Wherby my theame is stretcht beyond the starres , And I am entred in a field so large , As to much matter doth my Muse surcharge . 34 But as the hawke which soareth in the skie , And clymbes aloft for sollace of hir wing , The greater gate she getteth vp on highe , The truer stoupe she makes at any thing : So shall you sée my Muse by wandering , Finde out at last the right and ready way , And kepe it sure though earst it went astray . 35 My promisse was , and I recorde it so , To write in verse ( God wot though lyttle worth ) That warre séemes swéete to such as little knowe What commes therby , what frutes it bringeth forth : Who knowes none euil his minde no bad abhorth , But such as once haue fealt the skortching fire , Will seldome ( efte ) to play with flame desire . 36 Then warre is badde : and so it is in déede , Yet are thrée sortes which therin take delight , But who they be now herken and take héede , For ( as I may ) I meane their names to wright , The first hight Haughtie harte , a man of might , The second Greedy minde most men do call , And Miser ( he the mome ) commes last of all . 37 As for the first , thrée sparkes of mighty moode Desire of fame , disdayne of Idlenesse , And hope of honor , so inflame his bloud , Haughty harts . That he haunts warre to winne but worthinesse , His doughty déedes alwayes declare no lesse : For whyles most men for gaines or malice fight , He gapes for glory setting lyfe but light . 38 O noble mind : alas and who could thinke , So good a hart so hard a happe should haue ? A swéete perfume to fall into a sinke , A costly iewell in a swelling waue , Is happe as harde as if in gréedy graue , The lustiest lyfe should shryned be perforce , Before dyre deathe gyue sentence of diuorce . 39 And such I counte the happe of Haughty hart , Which hunts ( nought els ) but honor for to get , Where treason , malyce , sicknesse , sore and smarte , With many myschieues moe his purpose let , And he meane while ( which might haue spent it bet ) But loseth time , or doth the same mispend , Such guerdons giues the wicked warre at end . 40 I set aside to tell the restlesse toyle , The mangled corps , the lamed limbes at last , The shortned yeares by fret of feuers foyle , The smoothest skinne with skabbes and skarres disgrast , The frolicke fauour frounst and foule defast , The broken sléepes , the dreadfull dreames , the woe , Which wonne with warre and cannot from him goe . 41 I list not write ( for it becommes me not ) The secret wrath which God doth kindle oft , To sée the sucklings put vnto the pot , To heare their giltlesse bloode send cries alofte , ☞ And call for vengeance vnto him , but softe The Souldiours they commit those heynous actes , Yet Kings and Captaynes answere for such factes . 42 What néede me now at large for to rehearse , The force of Fortune , when she list to frowne ? Why should I héere display in barreyne verse , How realmes are turned topsie turuie downe , How Kings and Keysars loose both clayme and crowne ? Whose haughty harts to hent all honour haunte , Till high mishaps their doughtiest deedes do daunte . 43 All these with mo my penne shall ouerpasse , Since Haughty harte hath fixt his fansie thus , Let chaunce ( sayeth he ) be fickell as it was , Sit bonus ( in re mala ) Animus , Nam omne solum viro forti Ius . And fie ( sayeth he ) for goods or filthie gaine , I gape for glorie , all the rest is vayne . 44 Vayne is the rest , and that most vayne of all , A smouldring smoke which flieth with euery winde , A tickell treasure , like a trendlyng ball , A passing pleasure mocking but the minde , A fickle fée as fansie well can finde . A sommers fruite whiche long can neuer last , But ripeneth soone , and rottes againe as fast . 45 And tell me Haughty harte , confesse a truth , What man was aye so safe in Glories porte ? But traynes of treason ( oh the more the ruth ) Could vndermine the Bulwarkes of this forte , And raze his ramparts downe in sundrie sorte ? Searche all thy bookes , and thou shalt finde therein , That honour is more harde to holde than winne : 46 Aske Iulius Caesar Caesar . if this tale be true , The man that conquered all the world so wide , Whose onely worde commaunded all the crue , Of Romayne Knights at many a time and tide , Whose pompe was thought so great it could not glide . At last with bodkins dubd and doust to death , And all his glorie banisht with his breath . 47 Of malice more what should I make discource , Than thy foule fall proude Pompey Pompey . by thy name , Whose swelling harte enuying Caesars force , Did boyle and burne in will and wicked flame , By his downe fall thy fonder clyme to frame , Till thine owne head bebathed with enmies teares , Did ende thy glorie with thy youthfull yeares . 48 Alas alas how many may we reade , Whome sicknesse sithe hath cut as gréene as grasse ? Whome colde in Campes hath chaungd as pale as leade ? Whose greace hath molt all caffed as it was , With charges giuen , with skarmouching in chasse ? Some lamed with goute ( soone gotten in the field ) Some forst by fluxe all glorie vp to yéeld . 49 Of sodayne sores , or clappes caught vnaware , By sworde , by shotte , by mischief , or by mine , What néede I more examples to declare , Then Montacute Montacute Earle of Salisbury . which died by doome deuine ? For when he had all France defayct , in fine , From lofty towre discouering of his foes , A Cannons clappe did all his glorie lose . 50 I had forgot ( wherein I was to blame ) Of bolde braue Bourbon somewhat for to say That Haughty hart whome neuer Prince could tame , Borbon . Whome neyther towne could stoppe nor wall let way , Nor king nor Keyser could his iorney stay : His Epitaph downe set vpon his Tombe Declares no lesse : I leaue it to your doome . Borbons Epitaph . Deuicto Gallo , Aucto Imperio , Pontifice obsesso , Italia superata , Roma capta , Borbonij boc marmor bahet cineres . 51 Oh glorious title ringing out renowne , Oh Epitaph of honor and high happe , Who reades the same as it is there set downe , Would thinke that Borbon sate in fortunes lappe , And could not fall by chaunce of after clappe : Yet he that wrote this thundring flattering verse , Left out one thing which I must néedes rehearse . 52 For when he had his king by warre foredone , Enlargde the Empyre and besiegde the Pope , Tane Rome , and Italy had ouerronne , Yet was he forst , alwayes from lawes to lope , And trudge from triall so to scape the rope : Yea more than that a banisht man he serued , Least loued of them whose thanks he most deserued . 53 Lo lordings here a lesson for the nones , Behold this glasse and sée yourselues therein , This Epitaph was writte for worthy ones , For Haughty harts which honor hunt to winne . Beware beware , what broyles you do begin . For smiling lucke hath oft times Finem duram , And therefore thinke possic victoria Curam . 54 And yet if glory do your harts inflame , Or hote desire a haughty name to haue , Or if you thirst for high renowne or fame , To blase such brute as time might not depraue , You léese the labour that you might well saue : For many a prayse in that meane while you past , Which ( bet than warre ) might make your name to last . 55 As first ( percase ) you skipt Phylosophie , That noble skill which doth surmount the rest , Wherto if you had 〈◊〉 your memorie , Then bruntes of warre had neuer bruzde your brest , Yet had our name bene blazde , and you bene blest : Aske Aristotle Aristotle . if I speake amis , Fewe Souldiers fame can greater be than his . 56 Next Rethorike , that hoonnie harmelesse arte , Which conquers moe than warre can well subdue , You past it by , and therfore loose your parte Of glories great , which therevnto are due , And might by right your names for aye renue : Such glory loe did Cicero Cicero . attaine , Which longer lasts , than other glories vaine . 57 Of Physike speake for me king Auicen , Auicene . Who more estéemde the meane to saue himselfe , Than lessons leude of proude ambitious men , Which make debate for mucke and worldly pelfe : Yet was his glory neuer set on shelfe , Nor neuer shal , whyles any worlde may stande , Where men haue minde to take good bookes in hande . 58 What shoulde I stretch into Astronomie ? Or maruels make of Musikes sugred sounde ? Or beate my braynes about Geometrie ? Or in Arithmetike of artes the grounde ? Since euermore it is and hath bene founde , That who excels in any of the same , Is sure to winne an euerlasting fame . 59 My meaning is no more but to declare , That Haughtie hartes do spende their time in vaine , Which followe warres , and bring themselues in snare , Of sundrie ylls , and many a pinching paine , Whiles if they list to occupie their braine , In other feates with lesser toil● ygot , They might haue fame when as they haue it not . 60 Well , Greedie minde Greedy minde is of another moode , That man was framde out of some other molde , He followes warres for wealth and worldlie good , To fill his purse with grotes and glistring golde , He hopes to buie that Haughtie harte hath solde : He is as hote as any man at spoile , But at a breach he kéepeth no such coyle . 61 Alas good Gréedie minde , and canst thou finde No better trade , to fill thy boystrous baggs ? Is witte nowe wente so wandring from thy minde ? Are all thy points so voide of Reasons taggs ? Well so mayst thou come roysting home in raggs , And lose thy time as Haughtie harte doth eke , Whiles like a dolt thou wealth in warre dost seke . 62 O bleareyde foole , are both thine eyes beblast ? Canst thou not sée ? looke vp ( what man ? ) God mend thée , Looke at these Lawyers howe they purchase fast , Marke wel these Marchants ( better minde God send thee ) Sée howe the sutes of silke that they woulde lende thée , And many mo so fine in fashion stande , Till at the last they pay for vnthriftes lande . 63 The Grasier gets by féeding fatte his neate , The Clothier coynes by carding locks of wooll , The Butcher buildes by cutting out of meate , The Tanners hydes do fill his budget full , The Shéep maister his olde cast croanes can cull , The Shoomaker can shift by shaping shooes , The Craftie bawde can liue by kéeping stewes . 64 The gorgeous Goldesmith getts the Diuell and all , The Haberdasher heapeth wealth by hattes , The Barber liues by handling of his ball , The Coupers house is héelde by hooping fattes , The Roge rubbes out by poysoning of Rattes , The Chanell raker liueth by his fee , Yet compt I him more worthie prayse than thée . 65 To rake vp rytches euermore by wrong , To multiplie by moouing of myschiefe , To liue by spoile which séeldome lasteth long , To hoorde vp heapes whiles others lacke reliefe , To winne all wealth by playing of the théefe , Is not so good a gaine I dare auowe , As his that liues by toyling at the plowe . 66 And yet the drudge that delueth in the grounde , The poorest pesant and the homeliest hinde , The meanest man that euer yet was founde , To get a gaine by any trade or kinde , Liues more at rest and hath more ease of minde , More sure to winne , much lesser dread to léese , Than any page that liues by Mars his fees . 67 Ne will I yet affray the doubtfull hartes Of such as séeke for welth in warre to fal , By thundring out the sundrie sodaine smartes Which daily chaunce as fortune trilles the ball : Suffiseth this to proo●e my theame withall , That euery bullet hath a lighting place , Though Greedie minde forseeth not that disgrace . 68 The myst of More would haue , doth bleare his eyes , So is he armde with auarice alway , And as he couets more than may suffise , So is he blinde and dazled day by day , For whiles he ventures for a double pay , He quite forgets the pay that payes for all , Til Leade ( for Golde ) do glut his gréedie gal . 69 Yea though he gaine & cram his purse with crounes , And therewith scape the foemens force in fielde , He nought foreséeth what treasons dwells in Townes , Ne what mishappes his yll got goods may yéelde : For so may chaunce ( and séene it is not séelde ) His owne companions can contriue a meane , To cutte his throate and rinse his budgets cleane . 70 But if he wist , or had the witte to knowe , What dangers dwell , where might beares right adowne , What inwarde griefes to quiet mindes may growe By gréedie thyrst of ryches or renowne , Where wrong of warre oft times erects the crowne , He would percase confesse among the rest , That Dulce bellum inexpertis est . 71 So that I say as earst I sayde before , That euen as Haughtie harte doth hunt in vaine , Which séekes to winne most honor euermore , By haunting warres : so can I sée no gaine , ( With calme content ) to féede that others vaine : Wherfore my worde is still ( I change it not ) That Warre seemes sweete to such as raunge it not . 72 Well then , let sée what reason or what rule Can Miser Miser . moue , to march among the rest : I meane not Miser he that sterues his Mule For lacke of meate : no that were but a iest : My Miser is as braue ( sometimes ) as best , Where if he were a snudge to spare a groate , Then Greedie minde and he might weare one coate . 73 But I by Miser meane the very man , Which is enforst by chip of any chaunce , To steppe aside and wander nowe and than , Till lowring lucke may pipe some other daunce , And in meane while yet hopeth to aduaunce His staylesse state , by sworde , by speare , by shielde , Such bulwarkes ( loe ) my Misers braine doth builde . 74 The forlorne hope , which haue set vp their rest By rash expence , and knowe not howe to liue , The busie braine that medleth with the best , And gets dysgrace his rashnesse to repréeue , The man that slewe the wight that thought to théeue , Such and such moe which flee the Catchpols fist , I compt them Misers , though the Quéene it wist . 75 And yet forsooth these loue to liue in warre , When ( God he knowes ) they wote not what it meanes , Where if they sawe how much deceyued they are , Whiles they be brought into mine vncles beanes , And hoppe in hazarde by their headie meanes : Then woulde they learne and loue to liue at home , Much rather yet than wide in warres to rome . 76 The vnthrift Vnthriftes . he that selles a roode of lande , For Flemish stickes of Silkes and such like wares , Weenes yet at last to make a happie hande By bloudie warre , and hopes to shredde such shares , In goods yll got to counteruaile his cares , That he may once recouer his estate , To royst againe in spite of Catchpolles pate . 77 The restlesse tong that tattleth still at large , Praters . Till iust correction cause it to be still , Is banisht oft , and sitts in Misers barge , To brydle so the wandring of his will : Yet when he heares a trumpet sounding thrill , He followes fast , and to himselfe he sayes , Nowe can I kéepe me out of Catchpols wayes . 78 The bloudie murdrer and the craftie théefe , Felons . Which haue by force or fraude done what offence , To créepe in corners , oh they thinke it léefe , Though Miser there do pay for their expence : But when they heare a pay proclaimde for pence , Loe then they trudge , and gape to get such wealth , As may discharge their heads from hangmans health . 79 Of these thrée sortes full many haue I séene , Some hate the streates , bicause the stones were hot , Some shunde the Court ( & though they lovde our Quéene ) Yet in the Counsellors wayes they stumbled not , Some might not drinke of Iustice Griffyns pot : But all and some had rather fight with foes , Than once to light within the lappes of those . 80 As for the first what néede I much to wright ? Since now adayes the Sunne so hote doth shine , That fewe yong blouds ( vnlesse it be by night ) Can byde the streates : no , narrowe lanes be fine , Where euery fhade may serue them for a shrine : But in Cheapside the Sunne so scaldes the stréete , That euery pauing stone would partch their féete . 81 So of the seconde som what coulde I say , Howe tattling tungs and busie byting pennes , Haue fledde from Court long sithens many a day , And bene full gladde to lurke in Misers dennes , Some for their owne spéech , some for other mennes , Some for their bookes bicause they wrote too much , Yea some for rymes , but sure I knowe none such . 82 And for the thirde , I cannot blame them I , If they at barre haue once helde vp their hande , And smelt the smoke which might haue made them frie , Or learnde the leape out of their natiue lande , Me thinke if then their cause be rightly scande , That they should more delight to follow drummes , Than byde at home to come in hangmans thumbes . 83 But holla yet , and lay a strawe thereby , For whyles they scape for one offence or twaine , They goe so long to schole with fellonie , And learne such lessons in the Soldiers traine , That all delayes are dalied but in vaine : For commonly at their home come they pay , The debt which hangman claimde earst many a day . 84 How much were better then , with contrite harte First to repent , and then to make amendes ? And therwithall to learne by troubles smarte , What swéete repose the lawfull life vs lendes : For when such plagues the mightie God vs sendes , They come aswell to scourge offences past , As eke to teach a better trade at last . 85 And eke how much were better for the first , To beare lowe sayle , beginne the worlde anewe , And stande content to muster with the worst , Till God conuey them to some better crewe , It better were to bydde all pryde adieu , And stoupe betimes in hope to ryse againe , Than still to striue against the streame in vaine . 86 So were more méete for mealy mouthed men , And bufle ●edlars with their Princes mates , Wryters and rimers for to turne their penne In humble style vnto the loftie states , And eke with tongue attending at their gates , In lowly wise their fauour to beseeche , Than still to stande in stoute and sturdie spéech . 87 But mighty Mars hath many men in store , Which wayte alwayes to keepe his kingdome vp , Of whome no one doth shewe his seruice more , Than lingring Hope which still doth beare his cuppe , And flatteringly lendes euery man a suppe . Which haunts his courte or in his progresse passe , Hope brings the boll whereon they all must quasse . 88 Th' ambitious Prince doth hope to conquer all , The Dukes , Earles , Lords , & Knights hope to be kings , The Prelates hope to pushe for Popish pall , Hope is cup-bearer to war . The Lawyers hope to purchase wonderous things , The Merchaunts hope for no lesse reckenings , The peasant hopes to get a Ferme at least , All men are guestes where Hope doth holde the feast . 89 Amongst the rest poore Miser is so drie , And thristeth so to taste of some good chaunge That he in haste to Hope runnes by and by . And drinkes so déepe ( although the taste be straunge , ) That madding moode doth make his wittes to raunge , And he runnes on were Hope doth leade the way , Most commonly ( God knowes ) to his decaye . 90 So that for companie he sings the same , Which Haughty harte and Greedy minde do sing He saieth that Bellum bréedeth grief of game : And though at first it séeme a pleasant thing At last ( sayeth he ) it striketh with a sting , And leaues a skarre although the wound be heald , Which giues disgrace and cannot be conceald . 91 To proue this true how many in my dayes , ( And I for one ) might be rehearced here , Who after proofe of diuers wandring wayes , Haue bene constreynd to sit with sorie cheere , Close in a corner fumbled vp for feare ? Till from such dennes , drummes dubbe hath calld them forth , To chaunge their chaunce for lottes ( ofte ) little worth . 92 But here ( me thinks ) I heare some carping tong , That barkes a pace and killes me with his crie , One thinkes he sayes that all this geare goeth wrong , When workes of warre are wrotte by such as I , Methinkes I heare him still this text applie , That euill may those presume to teache a trade , Which nay themselues in Schollers roome did wade . 93 And for bycause my selfe confessed haue , That ( more than might by writte expressed be ) I may not séeme aboue my skill to braue , Since yet mine eyes the warres did neuer sée : Therefore ( say some ) how fonde a foole is he , That takes in hande to write of worthy warre , Which neuer yet hath come in any iarre ? 94 No iarre ( good sir ) yes yes and many iarres , For though my penne of curtesie did putte , A difference twixt broyles and bloudie warres , Yet haue I shot at maister Bellums butte , And throwen his ball although I toucht no tutte : I haue percase as déepely dealt the dole , As he that hit the marke and gat the gole . 95 For I haue séene full many a Flushyng fraye , Flushyng frayes & fleesing of Flaunders . And fléest in Flaunders eke among the rest , The bragge of Bruges , where was I that daye ? Before the walles good sir as braue as best , And though I marcht all armde withouten rest , From Aerdenburgh and back againe that night , Yet madde were he that would haue made me knight . 96 So was I one forsooth that kept the towne , Of Aerdenburgh Aerdenburgh . ( withouten any walles ) From all the force that could be dressed downe , By Alba Duke for all his cries and calles , A high exployte . Wée held the Flemings thralles , Seuen dayes and more without or bragges or blowes , For all that while we neuer herd of foes . 97 I was againe in trench before Tergoes , Tergoes . ( I dare not say in siege for bothe mine eares ) For looke as oft as euer Hell brake lose , I meane as often as the Spainish peares , Made salie foorth ( I speake this to my pheares ) It was no more but which Cock for a groate , Such troupes we were to kéepe them vp in coate . 98 Yet surely this withouten bragge or boast , Our English bloudes did there full many a déede , Which may be Chronicled in euery coaste , For bolde attempts , and well it was agréed , That had their heades bene rulde by warie héede , Some other feate had bene attempted then , To shew their force like worthie English men . 99 Since that siege raysde I romed haue about , In Zéeland , Holland , Waterland , and all , By sea , by land , by ayre , and all throughout , As leaping lottes , and chance did séeme to call , Now here , now there , as fortune trilde the ball , Where good * * The Prince of Orenge his name is Guillam of Nassau . Guyllam of Nassau badde me be , There néeded I none other guyde but he . 100 Percase sometimes S. Gyptians pilgrymage , Did carie me a moneth ( yea sometimes more ) To brake the Bowres , and racke them in a rage , Bicause they had no better chéere in store , Beefe , Mutton , Capon , Plouer , Pigeons , Bore , All this was naught , and for no Souldiours toothe , Were these no iarres ? ( speake now Sir ) yes forsoothe . 101 And by my troth to speake euen as it is , Such prankes were playde by Souldiours dayly there , And though my self did not therein amisse , ( As God he knowes and men can witnesse beare , ) Yet since I had a charge , I am not cleare , For seldome climes that Captaine to renowne , ☜ Whose Souldiours faults so plucke his honour downe . 102 Well let that passe I was in rolling trench , At Ramykins , Ramykins . where little shotte was spent , For gold and groates their matches still did quenche , Which kept the Forte , and forth at last they went , So pinde for hunger ( almost tenne dayes pent ) That men could sée no wrincles in their faces , Their pouder packt in caues and priuie places . 103 Next that I serude by night and eke by daie , By Sea , by lande , at euery time and tide , Against * * A Coronel of the kings side . Mountdragon whiles he did assaie , To lande his men along the salt sea side , For well he wist that Ramykins went wide , And therfore sought with victuall to supplie , Poore Myddleburgh which then in suddes did lie . 104 And there I sawe full many a bold attempt , By séelie soules best executed aye , And brauest bragges ( the foemens force to tempt ) Accomplished but coldely many a daye , The Souldiour charge , the leader lope away , The willing drumme a lustie marche to sounde , Whiles ranke retyrers gaue their enimies ground . 105 Againe at Seathe Souldiour forward still , When Mariners had little lust to fight , And whiles we staie twixt faynte and forward will . Our enemies prepare themselues to flight , They hoyste vp sayle ( o wearie woorde to wrihgt ) They hoyste vp saile that lacke both streame and windes , And we stand still so forst by frowarde mindes . 106 O victorie : ( whome Haughty hartes do hunte ) O spoyle and praye ( which gréedy mindes desire ) O golden heapes ( for whom these Misers wonte To follow Hope which settes all hartes on fire ) O gayne , O golde , who list to you aspyre , And glorie eke , by bolde attempts to winne , There was a day to take your prisoners in . 107 The shippes retyre with riches full yfraught , The Souldiours marche ( meane while ) into the towne , The tide skarce good , the winde starke staring naught , The haste so hoate that ( eare they sinke the sowne ) They came on ground , and strike all sayles adowne : While we ( ay me ) by backward saylers ledde , Take vp the worst when all the best are fledde . 108 Such triumphs chance where such Lieutenants rule , Where will commaundes when skill is out of towne , Where boldest bloudes are forced to recule , By Simme the boteswayne when he list to frowne , Where Captaynes crouch , and fishers weare the Crowne . Such happes which happen in such haplesse warres , Make me to tearme them broyles and beastly iarres . 109 And in these broyles ( a beastly broyle to wryte , ) My Colonell , and I fell at debate , So that I left both charge and office quite , A Captaynes charge and eke a Martials state , Whereby I proued ( perhaps though all to late ) How soone they fall whiche leane to rotten bowes , Such faith finde they , that trust to some mens vowes . 110 My harte was high , I could not séeme to serue , In regiment where no good rules remayne , Where officers and such as well deserue , Shall be abusde by euery page and swayne , Where discipline shall be but déemed vayne , Where blockes are stridde by stumblers at a strawe , And where selfe will must stand for martiall lawe . 111 These things ( with mo ) I could not séeme to beare , And therevpon I crackt my staffe in two , Yet stayde I still though out of pay I were , And learne to liue as priuate Souldiours do , I liued yet , by God and lacked too : Till at the last when Beauois fledde amayne , Our campe removde to streine (a) (a) An Iland so called which was sore spoyled by our countrymen . the lande van Strayne . 112 When (b) (b) A Coronel of the kings side whiche was gouernour of Middelburgh next before Mountdragon . Beauois fledde , Mountdragon came to towne , And like a Souldiour Myddelburgh he kept , But courage now was coldly come adowne , On either side : and quietly they slept , So that my self from Zeland lightly lept , Withfull entent to taste our English ale , Yet first I ment to tell the Prince my tale . 113 For though the warres waxt colde in euery place , And small experience was there to be séene , Yet thought I not to parte in such disgrace , Although I longed much to sée our Quéene : For he that once a hyred man hath bene , Must take his Maisters leaue before he goe , Vnlesse he meane to make his fréend his foe . 114 Then went I straight to * * A towne in Holland . Delfe , a pleasant towne , Vnto that Prince , whose passing vertues shine , And vnto him I came on knées adowne , Beséeching that his excellence in fine , Would graunt me leaue to sée this countrey mine : Not that I wearie was in warres to serue , Nor that I lackt what so I did deserue . 115 But for I found some contecke and debate , In regiment where I was woont to rule , And for I founde the staie of their estate , Was forced now in townes for to recule , I craued leaue no longer but till * * Christmas . Yewle , And promist then to come againe Sans fayle , To spende my bloud where it might him auayle . 116 The noble Prince gaue graunt to my request , And made me passeporte signed with his seale , But when I was with baggs and baggage prest , The Prince began to ring another peale , And sent for me , ( desiring for my weale ) That I woulde stay a day or two , to sée , What was the cause he sent againe for mée . 117 My Colonell was nowe come to the Courte , With whome the Prince had many things to treate , And for he hoapte , in good and godlie sorte , Twéene him and me to worke a friendlie feate , He like a gracious Prince his braines did beate , To set accorde betwéene vs if he might , Such paynes he toke to bring the wrong to right . 118 O noble Prince , there are too fewe like thée , If Vertue wake , she watcheth in thy will , If Iustice liue , then surely thou art hée , If Grace do growe , it groweth with thée still , O worthy Prince would God I had the skill , To write thy worth that men thereby might sée , How much they erre that speake amisse of thée . 119 The simple Sottes do coumpt thée simple too , Whose like for witte our age hath seldome bredde , The rayling roges mistrust thou darest not do , As Hector did for whom the Grecians fledde , Although thou yet werte neuer séene to dredde , The slandrous tongues do say thou drinkst to much , When God he knowes thy custome is not such . 120 But why do I in worthlesse verse deuise , To write his prayse that doth excell so farre ? He heard our gréeues himself in gratious wise , And mildly ment to ioyne our angry iarre , He ment to make that we beganne to marre : But wicked wrath had some so farre enraged , As by no meanes theyr malice could be swaged . 121 In this meane while the Spainiards came so neare That Delfe was girte with siege on euery side , And though men might take shippyng euery where , And so be gone at any time or tide , Yet truth to tell ( I speake it for no pryde ) I could not leaue that Prince in such distresse , Which cared for me and yet the cause much lesse . 122 But sée mishappe how craftely it créepes , Whiles fawning fortune fleareth full in face , My heauie harte within my bellie wéepes , To recken here a droppe of darke disgrace , Which fell vpon my pleasant plight apace , And brought a packe of doubts and dumps to passe , Whiles I with Prince in loue and fauour was . 123 A worthie dame whose prayse my penne shal write ( My sworde shall eke hir honour still defende ) A louing letter to me did endight , And from the Campe the same to me did sende , I meane from Campe where foes their force did bende : She sent a brief vnto me by hir mayde , Which at the gates of Delfe was stoutely stayde . 124 This letter tane , I was mistrusted much , And thought a man that were not for to truste , The frute of fansie . The Burghers streight began to beare me grutche , And cast a snare to make my necke be trust , For when they had this letter well discust : They sent it me by hir that brought it so , To trie if I would kéepe it close or no. 125 I redde the lines , and knowing whence they came , My harmelesse harte began to pant apace , Wel to be playne , I thought that neuer Dame , Should make me deale in any doubtfull case , Or do the thing might make me hide my face : So that vnto the Prince I went forthwith , And shewed to him of all this packe the pith . 126 The thing God knowes was of no great emport , Some fréendly lines the vertuous Lady wrote To me hir fréend : and for my safe passeporte , The Camepomaster Valdes his hand was gotte , And seale therewith , that I might safely trotte , The pleasauntest village ( as I thinke ) that is in Europe . Vnto the Haghe a stately pleasaunt place , Whereas remaynd this worthy womans grace . 127 And here I set in open verse to showe , The whole effect wherfore this work was wrought , She had of mine ( whereof few folkes did knowe ) A counterfayte , a thing to me deare bought , Which thing to haue I many time had sought And when shee knew how much I did estéeme it Shée vowde that none but I should thence redéeme it . 128 Lo here the cause of all this secrete sleight , I sweare by Ioue that nothing els was ment , The noble Prince ( who sawe that no deceipt , Was practised ) gaue trust to mine entent : And leaue to write from whence the same was sent , But still the Bowgers ( Burghers should I saye ) Encreast their doubtes and watcht me day by day . 129 At euery porte it was ( forsoth ) (a) (a) forbidden . be last , That I (b) (b) the Greene captaine . ( die groene Hopman ) might not go out , But when their foes came skirmishing full fast , Then with the rest the Gréene knight for them fought , Then might he go without mistrust or doubt : O drunken plompes , I playne without cause why , For all cardes tolde there was no foole but I. 130 I was the foole to fight in your defence . Which know no fréende , nor yet your selues full well , Yet thus you sée how paye proclaymde for pence , Pulles néedie soules in steade of heauen to hell , And makes men hope to beare away the bell . Whereas they hang in ropes that neuer rotte , Yet warre seemes sweete to such as know it not . 131 Well thus I dwelt in Delfe a winters tyde , In Delfe ( I say ) without one pennie pay : My men and I did colde and hunger bide , To shew our truth , and yet was neuer day , Wherein the Spanyard came to make vs play , But that the Gréene knight was amongst the rest , Like (c) (c) a prouerbe . Iohn Greyes birde that ventred with the best . 132 At last the Prince to Zeland came himselfe , To hunger Middleburgh , or make it yéeld , And I that neuer yet was set on shelf , When any sayld , or winde , or waues could wéeld , Went after him to shew my selfe in field . The selfe same man which earst I vowed to be , A trustie man to such a Prince as he . 133 The force of Flaunders , Brabant , Geldres , Fryze , Henault , Artoys , Lyegeland , and Luxembrough , Were all ybent , to bryng in new supplies To Myddleburgb : and little all enough , For why the (a) (a) protestaunts Gaeulx would neyther bend nor bough . But one of force must breake and come to nought , All (b) (b) The Iland wherein Flushing doth stand . Walkers theirs , or Flushyng dearly bought . 134 There once agayne I serued vpon seas , And for to tell the cause and how it fell , It did one day the Prince ( my chieftayne ) please , To aske me thus : Gascoigne ( quoth he ) you dwell Amongst vs still : and thereby séemeth well , That to our side you beare a faithfull harte , For else long since we should haue séene you starte . 135 But are ( sayde he ) your Souldiours by your side ? O Prince ( quoth I ) full many dayes be past , Since that my charge did with my Cron●ll glyde : Yet byde I here , and meane to be with last : And for full proofe that this is not a blast Of glorious talke : I craue some fisher boate , To shew my force among this furious floate . 136 The Prince gan like my fayth and forward will , (c) (c) Rigged vp and fully furnished . Equyppt a Hoye and set hir vnder sayle , Wherein I serued according to my skill , My minde was such , my cunning could not quayle , Withouten bragge of those that did assayle The foemens fleete which came in good aray , I put my selfe in formost ranke alway . 137 Thrée dayes wée fought , as long as water serued , And came to ancor neyghbourlike yféere , The Prince himselfe to sée who best deserued , Stoode euery day attending on the péere , And might behold what barke went formost there : Ill harte had he that would not stoutely fight , When as his Prince is present still in sight . 138 At last our foes had tidings ouer lande , That neare to (d) (d) a Towne . Bergh their fellowes went to wracke , On (e) (e) a Riuer . Scheld they mette by Rymerswaell a bande Of (f) (f) Lusty gallants . Edell bloets , who put their force abacke , (g) (g) The admiral of flushing . Lewes de Boyzett did put them there to sacke , And lost an eye , bicause he would resemble (h) (h) Iulian de Romero . Dan Iuliane , whome ( there ) he made to tremble . 139 When this was knowen (i) (i) The castellane of Anwerp . Sancio de Auila , Who had the charge of those that fought with vs , Went vp the (k) (k) A Riuer . Hont and tooke the ready way , To Anwerpe towne : leauing in daunger thus , Poore Myddelburgh which now waxt dolorous , To sée all hope of succour shrinke away , Whiles they lackt bread and had done many a day . 140 And when Mountdragon might no more endure , He came to talke and rendred all at last , With whome I was within the Cittie sure , Before he went , and on his promisse past , Such trust I had to thinke his fayth was fast : I dinde , and supt , and laye within the towne , A daye before he was from thence ybowne . 141 Thus Middleburgh , Armew , and all the rest , Of Walkers Ile became the Princes pray , Who gaue to me bycause I was so prest , At such a pinche , and on a dismall day , Thrée hundreth gilderns good aboue my pay . And bad me bide till his abilitie , Might better gwerdon my fidelitie . 142 I will not lie , these Gilderns pleasd me well , And much the more bycause they came vncraued , Though not vnnéeded as my fortune fell , But yet thereby my credite still was saued , My skores were payde , and with the best I braued , Till ( lo ) at last , an English newe relief , Came ouer seas , and Chester was their chief . 143 Of these the Prince perswaded me to take , A band in charge with Coronels consent , At whose requests I there did vndertake , To make mine ensigne once againe full bent , And sooth to say , it was my full entent , To loose the sadle or the horse to winne , Such haplesse hope the Prince had brought me in . 144 Souldiours behold and Captaynes marke it well , Hope is the herbenger of mishappe . How hope is harbenger of all mishappe , Some hope in honour for to beare the bell . Some hope for gaine and venture many a clappe , Some hope for trust and light in treasons lappe . Hope leades the way our lodging to prepare , Where high mishap ( ofte ) kéepes an Inne of care . 145 I hoapt to shew such force agaynst our foes , That those of Delf might sée how true I was , I hopt in déede for to be one of those Whome fame should follow , where my féete should passe , I hoapt for gaynes and founde great losse alas : I hoapt to winne a worthy Souldiours name , And light on lucke which brought me still to blame . 146 In Valkenburgh ( a fort but new begonne ) With others moe I was ordeynde to be , And farre beforne the worke were half way done , Our foes set forth our sorie seate to sée , They came in time , but cursed time for mée , They came before the courtine raysed were , One onely foote aboue the trenches there . 147 What should we do , foure ensignes lately prest , Fiue hundreth men were all the bulke we bare , Our enimies thrée thousand at the least , And somuch more they might alwayes prepare : But that most was , the truth for to declare , We had no store of pouder , nor of pence , Nor meate to eate , nor meane to make defence . 148 Here some may say that we were much to blame , Which would presume in such a place to byde , And not foresée ( how euer went the game ) Of meate and shotte our souldiours to prouide : Who so do say haue reason on their side , Yet proues it still ( though ours may be the blot ) That warre seemes sweete to such as know it not . 149 For had our forte bene fully fortified , Two thousand men had bene but few enow , To man it once , and had the truth bene tried , We could not sée by any reason how , The Prince could send vs any succour now , Which was constreynd in townes himself to shield , And had no power to shew his force in field . 150 Herewith we had nor powder packt in store , Nor flesh , nor fishe , in poudring tubbes yput , Nor meale , nor malt , nor meane ( what would you more ? ) To get such geare if once we should be shut . And God he knowes , the English Souldiours gut , Must haue his fill of victualles once a day , Or els he will but homely earne his pay . 151 To scuse ourselues , and Coronell withall , We did foretell the Prince of all these néedes , Who promised alwayes to be our wall , And badde vs trust as truely as our créedes , That all good wordes should be performd with déedes , And that before our foes could come so neare , He would both send vs men and merrie cheare . 152 Yea Robyn Hoode , our foes came downe apace , And first they chargde another Forte likewise , Alphen I meane , which was a stronger place , And yet to weake to kéepe in warlike wise : Fiue other bandes of English * * footemen . Fanteries , Were therein set for to defend the same , And them they chargde for to beginne the game . 153 This Forte fro ours was distant ten good miles , I meane such myles as English measure makes , Betwéene vs both stoode Leyden towne therewhiles , Which euerie day with fayre wordes vndertakes , To féede vs fat and cramme vs vp with cakes : It made vs hope it would supplie our néede , For we ( to it ) two Bulwarkes were in déede . 154 But when it came vnto the very pinche , Leyden farewell , we might for Leyden sterue , I like him well that promiseth an inche , And payes an ell , but what may he deserue That flatters much and can no fayth obserue ? And old sayd sawe , that fayre wordes make fooles fayne , ☜ Which prouerbe true we proued to our payne . 155 A conference among our selues we cald , Of Officers and Captaynes all yféere , For truth ( to tell ) the Souldiours were apald , And when we askt , nowe mates what merie chéere ? Their aunswere was : it is no bidyng here . So that perforce we must from thence be gone , Vnlesse we ment to kéepe the place alone . 156 Herewith we thought that if in time we went , Before all streights were stopt and taken vp , We might ( perhaps ) our enimies preuent , And teach them eke to taste of sorowes cuppe : At Maesland Sluyse , wée hoped for to suppe , A place whereas we might good seruice do , To kéepe them out which tooke it after too . 157 Whiles thus we talke , a messenger behold , From Alphen came , and told vs heauy newes , Captaynes ( quoth he ) hereof you may be bolde , Not one poore soule of all your fellowes crewes , Can scape aliue , they haue no choyse to chuse : They sent me thus to bidde you shifte in time , Els looke ( like them ) to sticke in Spainish lime . 158 This tale once tolde , none other spéech preuaylde , But packe and trudge , al leysure was to long , To mende the marte , our watche ( which neuer faylde ) Descried our foes which marched all along , And towards vs began in hast to throng , So that before our laste could passe the porte , The foremost foes were now within the Forte . 159 I promest once and did performe it too , To bide therein as long as any would , What booted that ? or what could Captaynes doe , When common sorte would tarie for no gould ? To speake a troth , the good did what they could , To kéepe the badde in rankes and good araye , But labour lost to hold that will away . 160 It néedelesse were to tell what déedes were donne , Nor who did best , nor who did worst that day , Nor who made head , nor who began to runne , Nor in retreate what chief was last alway , But Souldiour like we held our enimies play : And euery Captayne straue to do his best , To stay his owne and so to stay the rest . 161 In this retyre thrée English miles we trodde , With face to foes and shot as thicke as hayle , Of whose choyce men full fiftie soules and odde , We layed on ground , this is withouten fayle , Yet of our owne , we lost but thrée by tale : Our foes themselues confest they bought full déere , The hote pursute whiche they attempted there . 162 Thus came we late at last to Leyden walles , Too late , too soone , and so may we well say , For notwithstanding all our cries and calles , They shut their gates and turnd their eares away : In fine they did forsake vs euery way , And badde vs shifte to saue ourselues apace , For vnto them were fonde to trust for grace . 163 They neither gaue vs meate to féede vpon , Nor drinke , nor powder , pickax , toole nor spade , So might we sterue , like misers woe begone , And fend our foes , with blowes of English blade , For shotte was shronke , and shift could none be made : Yea more than this , wée stoode in open fielde , Without defense from shotte our selues to shielde . 164 This thus wel weyed , when weary night was past , And day gan péepe , wée heard the Spainish drommes , Which stroke a marche about vs round to cast , And foorth withall their Ensignes quickly commes , At sight whereof , our Souldiours bitte their thōmes : For well they wilt it was no boote to flie , And biding there , there was no boote but die . 165 So that we sent a drumme to summone talke , And came to Parlee middle way betweene , Monsieur de Licques , and Mario did walke , From foemens side , and from our side were séene , My self , that matche for Mario might bene : And Captayne Sheffeld borne of noble race , To matche de Licques , which there was chief in place . 166 Thus met we talkt , and stoode vpon our toes , With great demaundes whome little might content , We craued not onely fréedome from our foes , But shippyng eke with sayles and all full bent , To come againe from whence we first were went : I meane to come , into our English coast , Which soyle was sure , and might content vs most . 167 An old sayde sawe , ( and ofte séene ) that whereas , Thou comste to craue , and doubtst for to obtayne , Iniquum pete ( then ) vt aequum feras , This had I heard , and sure I was full fayne , To proue what profite we thereby might gayne : But at the last when time was stolen away , We were full gladde to play another play . 168 We rendred then with safetie for our liues , Our Ensignes splayed , and manyging our armes , With furder fayth , that from all kinde of giues , Our souldiours should remayne withouten harmes : And sooth to say , these were no false allarmes , For why ? they were within twelue dayes discharged , And sent away from pryson quite enlarged . 169 They were sent home , and we remayned still , In pryson pent , but yet right gently vsed , To take our liues , it was not Licques will , ( That noble blood , which neuer man abused , ) Nor euer yet was for his faith accused , Would God I had the skill to write his prayse , Which lent me comfort in my dolefull dayes . 170 We bode behind , foure moneths or little lesse , But wherevpon that God he knowes not I , Yet if I might be bolde to giue a gesse , Then would I say it was for to espie , What raunsome we would pay contentedly : Or els to know how much we were estéemde , In England here , and for what men ydéemde . 171 How so it were , at last we were dispatcht , And home we came as children come from schoole , As gladde , as fishe which were but lately catcht , And straight againe were cast into the poole : For by my fay I coumpt him but a foole , Which would not rather poorely liue at large , Than rest in pryson fedde with costly charge . 172 Now haue I tolde a tedious tale in rime , Of my mishappes , and what ill lucke I had , Yet some may say , that all to lowde I chime , Since that in warres my fortune was not badde , And many a man in pryson would be gladde , To fare no worse , and lodge no worse than wée , And eke at last to scape and go so frée . 173 I must confesse that both we were well vsed , And promise kept according to contract , And that nor wée , nor Souldiours were abused , No rigour shewed , nor louely dealing lackt : I must confesse that we were neuer rackt , Nor forst to do , nor speake agaynst our will , And yet I coumpt it froward fortune still . 174 A truth it is ( since warres are ledde by chaunce , And none so stoute but that sometimes may fall , ) No man on earth his honour might aduaunce , To render better ( if he once were thrall ) Why who could wishe more comforte at his call , Than for to yeeld with ensigne full displayde , And all armes borne in warlike wise for ayde ? 175 Or who could wishe dispatche with greater spéede , Than souldiours had which taried so few dayes ? Or who could wishe , more succour at his néede , Than vsed was to them at all assayes ? Bread , meate , and drinke , yea wagons in their wayes , To ease the sicke and hurte which could not go , All tane in warres , are seldome vsed so . 176 Or who could wishe ( to ease his captiue dayes ) More libertie than on his fayth to rest ? To eate and drinke at Barons borde alwayes , To lie on downe , to banquet with the best , To haue all things , at euery iust request , To borowe coyne , when any séemde to lacke , To haue his owne , away with him to packe ? 177 All this and more I must confesse we had , God saue ( say I ) our noble Quéene therfore , Hinc illae lachrimae , there laye the padde , Which made the strawe suspected be the more , For trust me true , they coueted full sore , To kéepe our Queene and countrie fast their friendes , Till all their warres might grow to luckie endes . 178 But were that once to happy ende ybrought , And all stray shéepe come home agayne to folde , ☞ Then looke to dore : and thinke the cat is nought , Although she let the mouse from out hir holde : Beleue me now , me thinkes I dare be bolde , To thinke that if they once were fréendes againe , We might soone sell , all fréendship found in Spaine . 179 Well these are woordes and farre beyond my reach , Yet by the way receyue them well in worth , And by the way , let neuer Licques appeach My rayling penne , for thoughe my minde abhorrth , All Spainish prankes : yet must I thunder forth His worthy prayse , who held his fayth vnstayned , And euermore to vs a fréend remayned . 180 Why sayed I then , that warre is full of woes ? Or sowre of taste , to them that know it best ? Who so demaundes , I will my minde disclose , And then iudge you the burdens of my brest : Marke well my wordes and you shall finde him blest , That medleth least with warres in any wise , But quiet liues , and all debate defies . 181 For though we did with truth and honour yéeld , Yet yéelding is alwayes a great disgrace , And though we made a braue retyre in field , Yet who retyres , doth alwayes yéeld his place : And though we neuer did our selues embase , But were alwayes at Barons table fedde , Yet better were at home with Barlie breade . 182 I leaue to tell what losse we did sustaine , In pens , in pay , in wares , and readie wealth , Since all such trash may gotten be againe , Or wasted well at home by priuie stelth : Small losse hath he which all his liuing selth , To saue his life , when other helpe is none , Cast vp the saddle when the horse is gone . 183 But what I sayde , I say and sweare againe , For first we were in Hollande sore suspect , The states did thinke , that with some filthie gaine The Spainish peeres vs Captaines had infect , They thought we ment our ensignes to erect In Kings behalfe : and eke the common sorte , Thought priuy pay had made vs leaue our forte . 184 Againe , the Kings men ( onely Licques except , And good * * A coronell of the kings side . Verdugo ) thought we were too well , And that we were but playde with in respect , When as their men in great distresse did dwell : So that with hate their burning hartes did swell , And bad hang vp or drowne vs euerychone , These bones we had alway to byte vpon . 185 This sause we had vnto our costly fare , And euery day we threatned were in déede , So that on both sides we must byde the care , And be mistrust of euery wicked déede , And be reuilde , and must our selues yet féede With lingring Hope , to get away at last , That selfe same Hope whiche tyed vs there so fast . 186 To make vp all , our owne men playde their parte , And rang a peale to make vs more mystrust , For when they should away from vs departe , And sawe vs hyde , they thought we stayed for lust , And sent them so in secrete to be trust : They thought and sayde , thus haue our Captaines solde Vs silly soules , for groates and glistring golde . 187 Yea , when they were to England safely brought , Yet talkte they still euen as they did before : For slaundrous tongues , if once they tattle ought , With mickell payne will chaunge their wicked lore : It hath bene proued full many dayes of yore , That he which once in slander takes delight , Will seldome frame his woordes to sounde aright . 188 Straunge tale to tell , we that had set them frée , And set ourselues on sandes for their expence , We that remaynd in daunger of the trée , When they were safe , we that were their defence , With armes , with cost , with déedes , with eloquence : We that saued such , as knew not where to flie , Were now by them accusde of trecherie . 189 These fruits ( I say ) in wicked warres I founde , Which make me wryte much more than else I would , For losse of life , or dread of deadly wounde , Shall neuer make me blame it though I could , Since death doth dwell on euerie kinde of mould : And who in warre hath caught a fatall clappe , Might chaunce at home to haue no better happe . 190 So losse of goodes shall neuer trouble me , Since God which giues can take when pleaseth him , But losse of fame or slaundred so to be , That makes my wittes to breake aboue their brimme , And frettes my harte , and lames me euery limme : For Noble minds their honour more esteeme , Than worldly wights , or wealth , or life can deeme . 191 And yet in warres , such graffes of grudge do growe , Such lewdnesse lurkes , such malice makes mischief , Such enuie boyles , such falshood fire doth blowe , That Bountie burnes , and truth is called thief , ☜ And good desertes are brought into such brief , That Saunder snuffe which sweares the matter out , Brings oftentimes the noblest names in doubt . 192 Then whether I be one of Haughty harte , Or Greedy minde , or Miser in decay , I sayde and say that for mine owne poore parte , I may confesse that Bellum euery way , Is Sweete : but how ? ( beare well my woordes away ) Forsooth , to such as neuer did it trie , This is my Theame I cannot chaunge it I.

Peroratio . 193 O noble Quéene , whose high foresight prouides , That wast of warre , your realmes doth not destroye , But pleasaunt peace , and quiet concord glydes , In euery coast , to driue out darke anoye , O vertuous dame , I say Pardonez moy , That I presume in worthlesse verse to warne , Th ambitious Prince , Prince . his dueties to descerne . 194 Your skilfull minde ( O Quéene without compare ) Can soone conceyue that cause constraynes me so , Since wicked warres haue bredde such cruell care , In Flaunders , Fraunce , in Spaine and many mo , Which reape thereby none other worth but wo : Whiles you ( meane while ) enioy the fruites of peace , Still praysing God , whose bounties neuer cease . 195 If you ( my liege ) vouchsafe in gratious wise , To pardon that which passeth from my Muse , Then care I not what other kings deuise , In warres defense : nor though they me accuse , And say that I their bloudie déedes abuse : Your onely grace my soueraigne Lady be , Let other Kings thinke what they list of me . 196 And you my Lordes to whome I dueties owe , And beare such loue as best becommeth me , Nobilitie . First Earle of Bedford , whome I right well know , To honour armes : and woorthie Warwyke he , In whose good grace I couet sore to be : Then Leyster next , ( Sussex not set behinde ) And worthy Essex men of noble minde . 197 Yong Oxenford as toward as the best , Northumberland , and Ormount woorthy prayse , Lyncolne , Kildare , and Worster with the rest Of noble Earles , which hold your happy dayes In high renowme , as men of warre alwayes : With others mo to many to recite , Vouchsafe my Lordes to pardone that I write . 198 Of Wilton Grey ( to whome these rimes I wrote ) With all the Barons hold of English soyle , I humbly craue that it may be forgotte , Although my Muze haue séemde to kéepe a coyle With mighty men which put the weake to foyle : I ment not you since , by your déedes appeares , You rule with right , like wise and worthy peares . 199 Prelacie . Right reuerend , of Canterbury chiefe , London , and Lincoln , Bishoppes by your name , Good Draue of Pawles ( which lend a great relief , To naked néede ) and all the rest of fame , In pastors place : with whome I were too blame , If Neuynsone my maister were not plaste , Since by his helpe I learning first embraste . 200 Beare with my verse , and thinke I ment not you , Whereas I spake of pride in Prelacie , But let it bide euen there where first it grew , Till God vouchsafe to quench hipocrisie , Which by pretence to punish heresie , Doth conquere realmes , and common concords breake , You know my mind , I néede no playner speake . 201 You gemmes of Iustice , chiefe of either bench , And he that kéepes hir Maiesties great seale , Good Quéenes attorney , he whose pitties quench Lawyers . ( I say sometimes ) the rigour of his zeale , When miserie , to mercy must apeale , And Sergeant Louelace , many ways my friend , As I haue found ( yet let me there not end , ) 203 But hold my tale to Rugge and all the rest Of good Grayes Inne , where honest Yeluerton , And I Per se sometimes yféere did rest , When amitie first in our brests begonne , Which shall endure as long as any Sunne May shine on earth , or water swimme in Seas , Let not my verse your lawlike minds displease , 203 For well wot you . our master Christ himselfe , Which had but twelue Apostles in his trayne , Had Iudas yet , which solde for worldly pelfe Our Sauiour : this text is true and playne : And where so many Lawyers do remayne , There may be some although that you be none , Which bréede debate and loue to cast a bone . 204 In Chancerie I néede no man suspect , Since conscience , in that court beareth sway , Yet in the same I may no wayes neglect , Nor worthy Powle , nor Cordell by the way , Of whome that one , is of my kéepe the keye , That other once did lende me such aduise , As was both sounde and good , had I bene wise . 205 He tolde me once , ( I beare it well in minde , And shall it nay forget whyles lyfe doth last ) That harde it is a noble name to finde , In such attempts as then in seruice past : Beleue me now I founde his wordes no blast , Wherfore I pray both him and his compéere , To beare with that which I haue written héere . 206 And as for Merchants , though I finde the most Hard harted men and compting cunningly , Yet Albany shall thinke I do not boast Merchaunts . In rayling wise : for sure his curtesie , Constreynes me now to prayse him worthely . And gentle Rowe with Luntley make me say , That many Merchaunts beare euen what they may . 207 But to conclude , I meane no more but thus , In all estates some one may treade awrye , And he that list my verses to discusse , Shall sée I ment no more , but modestly To warne the wise , that they such faults do flie As put downe peace by couine or debate , Since warre and strife bryng wo to euery state . FINIS .

L'enuoié . GO little Booke , God graunt thou none offende , For so meant hée which sought to set thée foorth , And when thou commest where Soldiers séeme to wend , Submit thy selfe as writte but little woorth : Confesse withall , that thou hast bene too bolde , To speake so plaine of Haughtie hartes in place , And say that he which wrote thée coulde haue tolde Full many a tale , of blouds that were not base : He coulde haue writte Dan Dudleyes noble déedes , Whose like hath since bene harde on earth to finde , Although his Vertue shewes it selfe in Seedes , Which freade his tracks , and come not farre behinde . He might haue sung of Grey the woorthie prayse , Whose ofspring holdes the honor of his sire : He coulde declare what Wallop was alwayes , What Awdelie séemde , what Randell did require . He coulde say what desertes in Drewrie be , In Reade , in Bryckwell , and a meany moe : But bashfulnesse did make him blush , least he Should but eclypse their fames by singing so . Suffiseth this , that still he honors those Which wade in warres to get a woorthie name , And least estéemes the gréedie snudge , which goes To gayne good golde , without respecte of fame . And for the thirde sorte , those that in dystresse Do driue their dayes , till drummes do draw them out , He coumpts him selfe to bée nor more nor lesse , But euen the same : for sure withouten doubt , If drummes once sounde a lustie martch in déede , Then farewell bookes , for he will trudge with spéede .

FINIS . Tam Marti quàm Mercurio . Corected , perfected , and finished .

WHo soeuer is desirous to reade this proposicion more at large and cunningly handled , let him but peruse the Prouerbe or adage it self in the first Centurian of the fourth Chyllyade of that famouse Clarke Erasmus Roterodamus : the whiche is there also Entituled : Dulce bellum inexpertis .

❧ HEARBES . Tam Marti quàm Mercurio .

¶ In this diuision are conteyned : The Comedie called Supposes . Folio . 1. The Tragedie called Iocasta . Fol. 73 The fruite of Reconciliation . 129 The force of true Frendship . 131 The force of Loue in Strangers . 132 The praise of browne beautie . 134 The Partrich and the Merlyn . 135 The vertue of Ver. 136 The complainte of a Dame in absence . 138 The praise of a Countesse . 139 The affection of a louer . 140 The complainte of a Dame suspected . 141 A Riddle . 143 The shield of Loue . 144 The gloze vpon Dominus ijs opus habet . 145 Gascoignes counsel to Diue. Fol. 148 Gascoignes counsel to Wythipole . 151 Gascoygnes woodmanship . Fol. 156 Gascoigns gardenings . 160 Gascoigns iourney into Hollande . 163

SVPPOSES : A Comedie written in the Italian tongue by Ariosto , Englished by George Gascoygne of Grayes Inne Esquire , and there presented . 1566. The names of the Actors . BAlia , the Nurse . Polynesta , the yong woman . Cleander , the Doctor , suter to Polynesta . Pasyphilo , the Parasite . Carion , the Doctors man . Dulypo , fayned seruant and louer of Polynesta . Erostrato , fayned master and suter to Polynesta . Dalio & Crapyno seruantes to fayned Erostrato . Scenaese , a gentleman stranger . Paquetto & Petrucio his seruantes . Damon , father to Polinesta . Neuola , and two other his seruants . Psyteria , an olda hag in his house . Phylogano , a Scycilian gentleman , father to Erostrato . Lytio , his seruant . Ferrarese , an Inkéeper of Ferrara .

The Comedie presented as it were in Ferrara .

The Prologue or argument .

I Suppose you are assembled here , supposing to reape the fruite of my trauayles : and to be playne , I meane presently to presente you with a Comedie called Supposes : the verye name wherof may peraduenture driue into euery of your heades a sundry Suppose , to suppose , the meaning of our supposes . Some percase will suppose we meane to occupie your eares with sophisticall handling of subtill Suppositions . Some other wil suppose we go about to discipher vnto you some queint conceiptes , which hitherto haue bene onely supposed as it were in shadowes : and some I see smyling as though they supposed we would trouble you with the vaine suppose of some wanton Suppose . But vnderstand , this our Suppose is nothing else but a mystaking or imagination of one thing for an other . For you shall see the master supposed for the seruant , the seruant for the master : the freeman for a slaue , and the bondslaue for a freeman : the stranger for a well knowen friend , and the familiar for a stranger . But what ? I suppose that euen already you suppose me very fonde , that haue so simply disclosed vnto you the subtilties of these our Supposes : where otherwise in deede I suppose you shoulde haue hearde almoste the laste of our Supposes , before you coulde haue supposed anye of them arighte . Let this then suffise .

Supposes .

Actus primus .

Scena . 1. BALIA , the Nurse . POLYNESTA , the yong woman .

HEre is no body , come foorth Polynesta , let vs looke about , to be sure least any man heare our talke : for I thinke within the house the tables , the plankes , the beds , the portals , yea and the cupbords them selues haue eares .

Pol.

You might as well haue sayde , the windowes and the doores : do you not sée howe they harken ?

Ba.

Well you iest faire , but I would aduise you take héede , I haue bidden you a thousande times beware : you will be spied one day talking with Dulippo .

Po.

And why should I not talke with Dulippo , as well as with any other , I pray you ?

Ba.

I haue giuen you a wherfore for this why many times : but go too , followe your owne aduise till you ouerwhelme vs all with soden mishappe .

Po.

A great mishappe I promise you : marie Gods blessing on their heart that sette suche a brouche on my cappe .

Ba.

Well , looke well about you : a man would thinke it were inough for you secretly to reioyce , that by my helpe you haue passed so many pleasant nightes togither : and yet by my trouth I do it more than halfe agaynst my will , for I would rather you had setled your fansie in some noble familie yea and it is no small griefe vnto me , that ( reiecting the suites of so many nobles and gentlemen ) you haue chosen for your darling a poore seruaunt of your fathers , by whome shame and infamie is the best dower you can looke for to attayne .

Po.

And I pray you whome may I thanke but gentle nourse ? that continually praysing him , what for his personage , his curtesie , and aboue all , the extreme passions of his minde , in fine you would neuer cease till I accepted him , delighted in him , and at length desired him with no lesse affection , than he earst desired me .

Ba.

I can not denie , but at the beginning I did recommende him vnto you ( as in déede I may say that for my selfe I haue a pitiful heart ) séeing the depth of his vnbridled affection , and that continually he neuer ceassed to fill mine eares with lamentable complaynts .

Po.

Nay rather that he filled your pursse with bribes and rewards , Nourse .

Ba.

Well you may iudge of Nourse as you liste . In déede I haue thought it alwayes a déede of charitie to helpe the miserable yong men , whose tender youth consumeth with the furious flames of loue . But be you sure if I had thought you would haue passed to the termes you nowe stand in , pitie nor pencion , peny nor pater noster shoulde euer haue made Nurse once to open hir mouth in the cause .

Po.

No of honestie , I pray you , who first brought him into my chamber ? who first taught him the way to my bed but you ? fie Nourse fie , neuer speake of it for shame , you will make me tell a wise tale anone .

Ba.

And haue I these thanks for my good wil ? why then I sée wel I shall be counted the cause of all mishappe .

Po.

Nay rather the author of my good happe ( gentle Nourse ) for I would thou knewest I loue not Dulipo , nor any of so meane estate , but haue bestowed my loue more worthily than thou déemest : but I will say no more at this time .

Ba.

Then I am glad you haue changed your minde yet .

Po.

Nay I neither haue changed , nor will change it .

Ba.

Then I vnderstande you not , how sayde you ?

Po.

Mary I say that I loue not Dulipo , nor any suche as he , and yet I neither haue changed nor wil change my minde .

Ba.

I can not tell , you loue to lye with Dulipo very well : this geare is Gréeke to me : either it hangs not well togither , or I am very dull of vnderstanding : speake plaine I pray you .

Po.

I can speake no plainer , I haue sworne to the contrary .

Ba.

Howe ? make you so deintie to tell it Nourse , least she shoulde reueale it ? you haue trusted me as farre as may be , ( I may shewe to you ) in things that touche your honor if they were knowne : and make you strange to tell me this ? I am sure it is but a trifle in comparison of those things wherof heretofore you haue made me priuie .

Po.

Well , it is of greater importance than you thinke Nourse : yet would I tell it you vnder condition and promise that you shall not tell it agayne , nor giue any signe or token to be suspected that you know it .

Ba.

I promise you of my honestie , say on .

Po.

Well heare you me then : this yong man whome you haue alwayes taken for Dulipo , is a noble borne Sicilian , his right name Erostrato , sonne to Philogano , one of the worthiest men in that countrey .

Ba.

How Erostrato ? is it not our neighbour , whiche ?

Po.

Holde thy talking nourse , and harken to me , that I may explane the whole case vnto thée . The man whome to this day you haue supposed to be Dulipo , The first supose & grownd of all the suposes is ( as I say ) Erostrato , a gentleman that came from Sicilia to studie in this Citie , & euen at his first arriuall met me in the stréet , fel enamored of me , & of suche vehement force were the passions he suffred , that immediatly he cast aside both long gowne and bookes , & determined on me only to apply his study . And to the end he might the more commodiously bothe sée me and talke with me , he exchanged both name , habite , clothes and credite with his seruant Dulipo ( whom only he brought with him out of Sicilia ) and so with the turning of a hand , of Erostrato a gentleman , he became Dulipo a seruing man , and soone after sought seruice of my father , and obteyned it .

Ba.

Are you sure of this ?

Po.

Yea out of doubt : on the other side Dulippo tooke vppon him the name of Erostrato his maister , the habite , the credite , bookes , and all things néedefull to a studente , and in shorte space profited very muche , and is nowe estéemed as you sée .

Ba.

Are there no other Sicylians héere : nor none that passe this way , which may discouer them ?

Po.

Very fewe that passe this way , and fewe or none that tarrie héere any time .

Ba.

This hath béen a straunge aduenture : but I pray you howe hang these thinges togither ? that the studente whome you say to be the seruant , and not the maister , is become an earnest suter to you , and requireth you of your father in mariage ?

Po.

That is a pollicie deuised betwéene them , to put Doctor Dotipole out of conceite : the olde dotarde , he that so instantly dothe lye vpon my father for me . But looke where he comes , as God helpe me it is he , out vpon him , what a luskie yonker is this ? yet I had rather be a Noone a thousande times , than be combred with suche a Coystrell .

Ba.

Daughter you haue reason , but let vs go in before he come any néerer .

Polynesta goeth in , and Balya stayeth a little whyle after , speaking a worde or two to the doctor , and then departeth .

Scena . 2. CLEANDER , Doctor . PASIPHILO , Parasite . BALYA , Nourse .

WEre these dames héere , or did mine eyes dazil ?

Pa.

Nay syr héere were Polynesta and hir nourse .

Cle.

Was my Polynesta héere ? alas I knewe hir not .

Ba.

He muste haue better eyesight that shoulde marry your Polynesta , or else he may chaunce to ouersée the best poynt in his tables sometimes .

Pa.

Syr it is no maruell , the ayre is very mistie too day : I my selfe knew hir better by hir apparell than by hir face .

Cle.

In good fayth and I thanke God I haue mine eye sighte good and perfit , little worse than when I was but twentie yeres olde .

Pa.

How can it be otherwise ? you are but yong .

Cle.

I am fiftie yeres olde .

Pa.

He telles ten lesse than he is .

Cle.

What sayst thou of ten lesse ?

Pa.

I say I woulde haue thoughte you tenne lesse , you looke like one of sixe and thirtie , or seuen and thirtie at the moste .

Cle.

I am no lesse than I tell .

Pa.

You are like inough too liue fiftie more : shewe me your hande .

Cle.

Why is Pasiphilo a Chiromancer ?

Pa.

What is not Pasiphilo ? I pray you shewe mée it a little .

Cle

Here it is .

Pa.

O how straight and infracte is this line of life ? you will liue to the yéeres of Melchisedech .

Cle.

Thou wouldest say , Methusalem .

Pa.

Why is it not all one ?

Cle.

I perceiue you are no very good Bibler Pasiphilo .

Pa.

Yes sir an excellent good Bibbeler , specially in a bottle : Oh what a mounte of Venus here is ? but this lighte serueth not very well , I will beholde it an other day , when the ayre is clearer , and tell you somewhat , peraduenture to your contentation .

Cle.

You shal do me great pleasure : but tell me , I pray thée Pasiphilo , whome doste thou thinke Polynesta liketh better , Erostrato or me ?

Pa.

Why ? you out of doubt : She is a gentlewoman of a noble minde , and maketh greater accompte of the reputation she shall haue in marrying your worship , than that poore scholer , whose birthe and parentage God knoweth , and very fewe else .

Cle.

Yet he taketh it vpon him brauely in this countrey .

Pa.

Yea , where no man knoweth the contrarie : but let him braue it , bost his birth , and do what he can , the vertue and knowledge that is within this body of yours , is worth more than all the countrey he came from .

Cle.

It becommeth not a man to praise him selfe : but in déede I may say , ( and say truely , ) that my knowledge hath stoode me in better steade at a pinche , than coulde all the goodes in the worlde . I came out of Otranto when the Turkes wonne it , and first I came to Padua , after hither , where by reading , counsailing , and pleading , within twentie yeares . I haue gathered and gayned as good as ten thousande Ducats .

Pa.

Yea mary , this is the righte knowledge : Philosophie , Poetrie , Logike , and all the rest , are but pickling sciences in comparison to this .

Cle.

But pyckling in déede , whereof we haue a verse : The trade of Lawe doth fill the boystrous bagges , They swimme in silke , when others royst in ragges .

Pa.

O excellent verse , who made it ? Virgil ?

Cle.

Virgil ? tushe it is written in one of our gloses .

Pa.

Sure who soeuer wrote it , the morall is excellent , and worthy to be written in letters of golde . But too the purpose : I thinke you shall neuer recouer the wealth that you loste at Otranto .

Cle.

An other supose . I thinke I haue dubled it , or rather made it foure times as muche : but in déed , I lost mine only sonne there , a childe of fiue yeres olde .

Pa.

O great pitie .

Cle.

Yea , I had rather haue lost al the goods in the world .

Pa.

Alas , alas : by God and grafts of suche a stocke are very gayson in these dayes .

Cle.

I know not whether he were slayne , or the Turks toke him and kept him as a bond slaue .

Pa.

Alas , I could weepe for compassion , but there is no remedy but patience , you shall get many by this yong damsell with the grace of God .

Cle.

Yea , if I get hir .

Pa.

Get hir ? why doubt you of that ?

Cle.

Why ? hir father holds me off with delayes , so that I must needes doubt .

Pa.

Content your selfe sir , he is a wise man , and desirous to place his Daughter well : he will not be too rashe in hys determination , he will thinke well of the matter : and lette him thinke , for the longer he thinketh , the more good of you shall he thinke : whose welth ? whose vertue ? whose skill ? or whose estimation can he compare to yours in this Citie ?

Cle.

And hast thou not tolde him that I would make his Daughter a dower of two thousand Ducates ?

Pa.

Why , euen now , I came but fr●m thence since .

Cle.

What said he ?

Pa.

Nothing , but that Erostrato had profered the like .

Cle.

Erostrato ? how can he make any dower , and his father yet aliue ?

Pa.

Thinke you I did not tell him so ? yes I warrant you , I forgot nothing that may furder your cause : & doubte you not , Erostrato shal neuer haue hir vnlesse it be in a dreame .

Cle.

Well gentle Pasiphilo , go thy wayes and tell Damon I require nothing but his daughter : I wil none of his goods : I shal enrich hir of mine owne : & if this dower of two thousand Ducates seem not sufficient , I wil make it fiue hundreth more , yea a thousand , or what so euer he wil demaund rather than faile : go to Pasiphilo , shew thy selfe frendly in working this feate for me : spare for no cost , since I haue gone thus farre , I wil be loth to be out bidden . Go.

Pa.

Where shall I come to you againe ?

Cle.

At my house .

Pa.

When ?

Cle.

When thou wilte .

Pa.

Shall I come at dinner time ?

Cle.

I would byd thée to dinner , but it is a Saincts euen which I haue euer fasted .

Pa.

Faste till thou famishe .

Cle.

Harke .

Pa.

He speaketh of a dead mans faste .

Cle.

Thou hearest me not .

Pa.

Nor thou vnderstandest me not .

Cle.

I dare say thou art angrie I byd the not to dinner : but come if thou wilte , thou shalt take such as thou findest .

Pa.

What ? think you I know not where to dine ?

Cle.

Yes Pasiphilo thou art not to séeke .

Pa.

No be you sure , there are enowe will pray me .

Cle.

That I knowe well enough Pasiphilo , but thou canst not be better welcome in any place than to me , I will tarrie for thée .

Pa.

Well , since you will néedes , I will come .

Cle.

Dispatche then , and bring no newes but good .

Pa.

Better than my rewarde by the rood .

Cleander exit , Pasiphilo restat .

Scena . iij. PASIPHILO . DVLIPO .

O Miserable couetous wretche , he findeth an excuse by S. Nicolas fast , bicause I should not dine with him , as though I should dine at his owne dishe : he maketh goodly feasts I promise you , it is no wonder though hée thinke me bounde vnto him for my fare : for ouer and besides that his prouision is as skant as may be , yet there is great difference betwéene his diet and mine . I neuer so much as sippe of the wine that he tasteth , I féede at the bordes ende with browne bread : Marie I reach always to his owne dishe , for there are no more but that only on the table . Yet he thinks that for one such dinner I am bound to do him al the seruice that I can , and thinks me sufficiently rewarded for all my trauell , with one suche festiuall promotion . And yet peraduenture some men thinke I haue great gaines vnder him : but I may say and sweare , that this dosen yéere I haue not gayned so muche in value as the points at my hose ( whiche are but thrée with codpéece poynt and al ) : he thinkes that I may féede vpon his fauour and faire wordes : but if I could not otherwise prouide for one , Pasiphilo were in a wyse case . Pasiphilo hath mo pastures to passe in than one , I warrant you : I am of housholde with this scholer Erostrato , ( his riuale ) as well as with Domine Cleander : nowe with the one , and then with the other , according as I sée their Caters prouide good chéere at the market : and I finde the meanes so to handle the matter , that I am welcome too bothe . If the one sée me talke with the other , I make him beleeue it is to harken newes in the furtherance of his cause : and thus I become a broker on bothe sides . Well , lette them bothe apply the matter as well as they can , for in déede I will trauell for none of them bothe : yet will I séeme to worke wonders on eche hande . But is not this one of Damons seruants that commeth foorth ? it is : of him I shall vnderstand where his master is . Whither goeth this ioyly gallant ?

Du.

I come to séeke some body that may accompany my Master at dinner , he is alone , and woulde fayne haue good company .

Pa.

Séeke no further , you coulde neuer haue found one better than me .

Du.

I haue no commission to bring so many .

Pa.

How many ? I will come alone .

Du.

How canst thou come alone , that hast continually a legion of rauening wolues within thée ?

Pa.

Thou doest ( as seruants commonly doe ) hate al that loue to visite their maisters .

Du.

And why ?

Pa.

Bicause they haue too many téeth as you thinke .

Du.

Nay bicause they haue to many tongues .

Pa.

Tongues ? I pray you what did my tonge euer hurt you ?

Du.

I speake but merily with you Pasiphilo , goe in , my maister is ready to dine .

Pa.

What ? dineth he so earely ?

Du.

He that riseth early , dineth early .

Pa.

I would I were his man , maister doctor neuer dineth till noone , and how dilicately then God knoweth . I wil he bolde to goe in , for I count my selfe bidden .

Du.

You were best so . Pasiphilo intrat . Dul. restat .

Hard hap had I when I first began this vnfortunate enterprise : for I supposed the readiest medicine to my miserable affects had bene to change name , clothes , & credite with my seruant , & to place my selfe in Damons seruice : thinking that as sheuering colde by glowing fire , thurst by drinke , hunger by pleasant repasts , and a thousande suche like passions finde remedie by their contraries , so my rest lesse desire might haue founde quiet by continuall contemplation . But alas , I find that only loue is vnsaciable : for as the flie playeth with the flame till at last she is cause of hir owne decay , so the louer that thinketh with kissing and colling to content his vnbrideled apetite , is commonly seene the only cause of his owne consumption . Two yeeres are nowe past since ( vnder the colour of Damons seruice ) I haue bene a sworne seruant to Cupid : of whom I haue receiued as much fauour & grace as euer man founde in his seruice . I haue free libertie at al times to behold my desired , to talke with hir , to embrace hir , yea ( be it spoken in secrete ) to lie with hir . I reape the fruites of my desire : yet as my ioyes abounde , euen so my paines encrease . I fare like the couetous man , that hauing all the world at will , is neuer yet content : the more I haue , the more I desire . Alas , what wretched estate haue I brought my selfe vnto , if in the ende of all my farre fetches , she be giuen by hir father to this olde doting doctor , this buzard , this bribing villaine , that by so many meanes seeketh to obtain hir at hir fathers hands ? I know she loueth me best of all others , but what may that preuaile when perforce she shal be constrained to marie another ? Alas , the pleasant tast of my sugred ioyes doth yet remaine so perfect in my remembrance , that the least soppe of sorow séemeth more soure than gal in my mouth . If I had neuer knowen delight , with better contentation might I haue passed these dreadful dolours . And if this olde Mumpsimus ( whom the pockes consume ) should win hir , then may I say , farewell the pleasant talke , the kind embracings , yea farewel the sight of my Polynestat for he like a ielouse wretch will pen hir vp , that I thinke the birdes of the aire shall not winne the sighte of hir . I hoped to haue caste a blocke in his waie , by the meanes that my seruaunt ( who is supposed to be Erostrato , and with my habite and credite is wel estéemed ) should proffer himself a suter , at the least to counteruaile the doctors proffers . But my maister knowing the wealth of the one , and doubting the state of the other , is determined to be fed no longer with faire wordes , but to accept the doctor , ( whom he right well knoweth ) for his sonne in law . Wel , my seruant promised me yesterday to deuise yet againe some newe conspiracie to driue maister doctor out of conceite , and to laye a snare that the foxe himselfe might be caughte in : what it is , I knowe not , nor I saw him not since he went about it : I will goe sée if he be within , that at least if he helpe me not , be maye yet prolong my life for this once . But here commeth his lackie : ho Iack pack , where is Erostrato ?

Here must Crapine be comming in with a basket and a sticke in his hand .

Scena . iiij . CRAPINO the Lackie . DVLIPO .

ERostrato ? mary he is in his skinne .

Du.

Ah hooreson boy , I say , howe shall I finde Erostrato ?

Cra.

Finde him ? howe meane you , by the wéeke or by the yéere ?

Du.

You cracke halter , if I catche you by the eares , I shall make you answere me directly .

Cra.

In déede ?

Du.

Tarry me a little .

Cra.

In faith sir I haue no leisure .

Du.

Shall we trie who can runne fastest ?

Cra.

Your legges be longer than mine , you should haue giuen me the aduauntage .

Du.

Go to , tell me where is Erostrato ?

Cra.

I left him in the stréete , where he gaue me this Casket , ( this basket I would haue sayde ) and had me beare it to Dalio , and returne to him at the Dukes Palace .

Du.

If thou sée him , tell him I must needes speake with him immediatly : or abide awhyle , I will go seeke him my selfe , rather than he suspected by going to his house .

Crapino departeth , and Dulipo also : after Dulipo commeth in agayne seeking Erostrato .

Finis Actus . 1.

Actus . ij .

Scena . j. DVLIPO . EROSTRATO .

I Thinke if I had as many eyes as Argus , I coulde not haue sought a man more narrowly in euery stréete and euery by lane , there are not many Gentlemen , scholers , nor Marchauntes in the Citie of Ferara , but I haue mette with them , excepte him : peraduenture hée is come home an other way : but looke where he commeth at the last .

Ero.

In good time haue I spied my good maister .

Du.

For the loue of God call me Dulipo ( not master , ) maintayne the credite that thou haste hitherto kepte , and let me alone .

Ero.

Yet sir let me sometimes do my duetie vnto you , especially where no body heareth .

Du.

Yea , but so long the Parat vseth to crie knappe in sporte , that at the last she calleth hir maister knaue in earnest : so long you will vse to call me master , that at the last we shall be heard . What newes ?

Ero.

Good.

Du.

In déede ?

Ero.

Yea excellent , we haue as good as won the wager .

Du.

Oh , how happie were I if this were true ?

Ero.

Heare you me , yesternight in the euening I walked out , and founde Pasiphilo , and with small entreating I had him home to supper , where by suche meanes as I vsed , he became my great friend , and tolde me the whole order of our aduersaries determination : yea and what Damon doth intende to do also , and hath promised me that from time to time , what he can espie he will bring me word of it .

Du.

I can not tel whether you know him or no , he is not to trust vnto , a very flattering and a lying knaue .

Ero.

I know him very well , he can not deceiue me : and this that he hath told me I know must néedes be true .

Du.

And what was it in effect ?

Ero.

That Damon had purposed to giue his daughter in mariage to this doctor , vpon the dower that he hath profered . Another supose .

Du.

Are these your good newes ? your excellent newes ?

Ero.

Stay a whyle , you will vnderstande me before you heare me .

Du.

Well , say on .

Ero.

I answered to that , I was ready to make hir the lyke dower .

Du.

Well sayde .

Ero.

Abide , you heare not the worst yet .

Du.

O God , is there any worsse behinde ?

Ero.

Worsse ? why what assurance coulde you suppose that I might make without some speciall consent from Philogano my father ?

Du.

Nay you can tell , you are better scholer than I.

Ero.

In deede you haue lost your time : for the books that you tosse now a dayes , treate of smal science .

Du.

Leaue thy iesting , and procéede .

Ero.

I sayd further , that I receyued letters lately from my father , whereby I vnderstoode that he woulde be héere very shortly to performe all that I had profered : therefore I required him to request Damon on my behalf , that he would stay his promise to the doctor for a fourtnight or more .

Du.

This is somewhat yet , for by this meanes I shal be sure to linger and liue in hope one fourtnight longer : but , at the fourthnights ende when Philogano commeth not , how shall I then do ? yea and though he came , howe may I any way hope of his consent , when he shall sée , that to follow this amorous enterprise , I haue set aside all studie , all remembraunce of my duetie , and all dread of shame . Alas , alas , I may go hang my selfe .

Ero.

Comforte your selfe man , and trust in me : there is a slaue for euery sore , and doubt you not , to this mischéefe we shall finde a remedie .

Du.

O friend reuiue me , that hitherto since I first attempted this matter haue bene continually dying .

Ero.

Well harken a while then : this morning I tooke my horse and rode into the fieldes to solace my self , and as I passed the foorde beyonde S. Anthonies gate , I met at the foote of the hill a gentleman riding with two or thrée men : and as me thought by his habite and his lookes , he should be none of the wisest . He saluted me , and I him : I asked him from whence he came , and whither he would ? he answered that he had come from Venice , then from Padua , nowe was going to Ferrara , and so to his countrey , whiche is Scienna : As soone as I knewe him to be a Scenese , sodenly lifting vp mine eyes , ( as it were with an admiration ) I sayd vnto him , are you a Scenese , and come to Farrara ? why not , sayde he : quoth I ( , halfe and more with a trembling voyce ) know you the daunger that should ensue if you be knowne in Ferrara to be a Scenese ? he more than halfe amased , desired me earnestly to tell him what I ment .

Du.

I vnderstande not wherto this tendeth .

Ero.

I beléeue you : but harken to me .

Du.

Go too then .

Ero.

I answered him in this sorte : Gentleman , bycause I haue heretofore founde very curteous entertaynement in your countrey , ( béeing a student there , ) I accompt my self as it were bounde to a Scenese : and therefore if I knewe of any mishappe towards any of that countrey , God forbid but I should disclose it : and I maruell that you knewe not of the iniurie that your countreymen offered this other day to the Embassadours of Counte Hercules .

Du.

What tales he telleth me : what appertayne these to me ?

Ero.

If you will harken a whyle , you shall finde them no tales , but that they appertayne to you more than you thinke for .

Du.

Foorth .

Ero.

I tolde him further , these Ambassadoures of Counte Hercules had dyuers Mules , Waggons , and Charettes , laden with diuers costly iewels , gorgeous furniture , & other things which they caried as presents , ( passing that way ) to the king of Naples : the which were not only stayd in Sciene by the officers whom you cal Customers , but serched , ransacked , tossed & turned , & in the end exacted for tribute , as if they had bene the goods of a meane marchaunt .

Du.

Whither the diuell wil he ? is it possible that this geare appertaine any thing to my cause ? I finde neither head nor foote in it .

Ero.

O how impacient you are : I pray you stay a while .

Du.

Go to yet a while then .

Ero.

I procéeded , that vpon these causes the Duke sent his Chauncelor to declare the case vnto the Senate there , of whome he had the moste vncurteous answere that euer was heard : whervpon he was so enraged with all of that countrey , that for reuenge he had sworne to spoyle as many of them as euer should come to Ferara , and to sende them home in their dublet and their hose .

Du.

And I pray thée how couldest thou vpon the sudden deuise or imagine suche a lye ? and to what purpose ?

Ero.

You shall heare by and by a thing as fitte for our purpose , as any could haue happened .

Du.

I would fayne heare you conclude .

Ero.

You would fayne leape ouer the stile , before you come at the hedge : I woulde you had heard me , and séene the gestures that I enforced to make him beléeue this .

Du.

I beléeue you , for I knowe you can counterfet wel .

Ero.

Further I sayde , the duke had charged vpon great penalties , that the Inholders and vitlers shoulde bring worde dayly of as many Sceneses as came to their houses . The gentleman béeing ( as I gessed at the first ) a man of smal sapientia , when he heard these newes , would haue turned his horse an other way .

Du.

By likelyhoode he was not very wise when hée would beleeue that of his countrey , which if it had bene true euery man must néedes haue knowen it .

Ero.

Why not ? when he had not béene in his countrey for a moneth paste , and I tolde him this had hapned within these seuen dayes .

Du.

Belike he was of small experience .

Ero.

I thinke , of as litle as may be : but beste of all for our purpose , and good aduenture it was , that I mette with such an one . Now harken I pray you .

Du.

Make an ende I pray thée .

Ero.

He , as I say , when he hard these words , would haue turned the bridle : and I fayning a countenance as though I were somewhat pensiue and carefull for him , paused a while , & after with a great sighe saide to him : Gentleman , for the curtesie that ( as I said ) I haue found in your countrey , & bicause your affaires shall be the better dispatched , I will finde the meanes to lodge you in my house , and you shal say to euery man , that you are a Sicilian of Cathanea , your name Philogano , father to me that am in déede of that countrey and citie , called here Erostrato . And I ( to pleasure you ) will ( during your abode here ) do you reuerence as you were my father .

Du.

Out vpon me , what a grosse hedded foole am I ? now I perceiue whereto this tale tendeth .

Ero.

Well , and how like you of it ?

Du.

Indifferently , but one thing I doubt .

Ero.

What is that ?

Du.

Marie , that when he hath bene here twoo or thrée dayes , he shal heare of euery man that there is no such thing betwene the Duke and the Towne of Sciene .

Ero.

As for that let me alone , I doe entertaine and will entertaine him so well , that within these two or thrée daies I will disclose vnto him all the whole matter , and doubte not but to bring him in for performance of as muche as I haue promised to Damon : for what hurte can it be to him , when he shall binde a strange name and not his owne ?

Du.

What , thinke you he will be entreated to stande bounde for a dower of two thousand Ducates by the yéere ?

Ero.

Yea why not , ( if it were ten thousande ) as long as he is not in déede the man that is bound ?

Du.

Well , if it be so , what shall we be the néerer to our purpose ?

Ero.

Why ? when we haue done as muche as we can , how can we doe any more ?

Du.

And where haue you left him ?

Ero.

At the Inne , bicause of his horses : he and his men shall lie in my house .

Du.

Why brought you him not with you ?

Ero.

I thought better to vse your aduise first .

Du.

Well , goe take him home , make him all the chéere you can , spare for no cost , I will alowe it .

Ero.

Content , looke where he commeth .

Du.

Is this he ? goe méete him , by my trouthe he lookes euen lyke a good soule , he that fisheth for him , mighte bée sure to catche a cods heade : I will rest here a while to discipher him .

Erostrato espieth the Scenese and goeth towards him : Dulipo standeth aside .

Scena . ij . The SCENESE . PAQVETTO & PETRVCIO his seruants . EROSTRATO .

HE that trauaileth in this worlde passeth by many perilles .

Pa.

An other supose . You saye true sir , if the boate had bene a little more laden this morning at the ferrie , wée had bene all drowned , for I thinke , there are none of vs that could haue swomme .

Sc.

I speake not of that .

Pa.

O you meane the foule waye that we had since wée came from this Padua , I promise you , I was afraide twice or thrice , that your mule would haue lien fast in the mire .

Sc.

Iesu , what a blockehead thou art , I speake of the perill we are in presently since we came into this citie .

Pa.

A great peril I promise you , that we were no sooner ariued , but you founde a frende that brought you from the Inne , and lodged you in his owne house .

Sc.

Yea marie , God rewarde the gentle yong man that we mette , for else we had bene in a wise case by this time . A dottish supose . But haue done with these tales , and take you héede , & you also sirra , take héede that none of you saie we be Sceneses , and remember that you call me Philogano of Cathanca .

Pa.

Sure I shal neuer remember these outlandish words , I could well remember Haccanea .

Sc.

I say , Cathanea , and not Haecanea , with a vengeance .

Pa.

Let another name it then when néede is , for I shall neuer remember it .

Sc.

Then holde thy peace , and take héede thou name not Scene .

Pa.

Howe say you , if I faine my selfe dum as I did once in the house of Crisobolus ?

Sc.

Doe as thou thinkest best : but looke where commeth the gentleman whom we are so much bounde vnto .

Ero.

Welcome , my deare father Philogano .

Sc.

Gramercie my good sonne Erostrato .

Ero.

That is well saide , be mindefull of your toung , for these Ferareses be as craftie as the Deuill of hell .

Sc.

No , no , be you sure we will doe as you haue bidden vs .

Ero.

For if you should name Scene they would spoile you immediatly , and turne you out of the towne , with more shame , than I woulde shoulde befall you for a thousande Crownes .

Sc.

I warant you , I was giuing them warning as I came to you , and I doubt not but they will take good héede .

Ero.

Yea and trust not the seruauntes of my housholde to far , for they are Ferareses all , and neuer knew my father , nor came neuer in Sicilia : this is my house , will it please you to goe in ? I will follow .

They goe in . Dulipo tarieth and espieth the Doctor comming in with his man .

Scena . iij. DVLIPO alone .

THis geare hath had no euill beginning , if it continue so and fall to happie ende . But is not this the silly Doctor with the side bonet , the doting foole , that dare presume to become a suter to such a péerlesse Paragone ? O how couetousnesse doth blind the common sort of men . Damon more desirous of the dower , than mindfull of his gentle & gallant daughter , hath determined to make him his Sonne in law , who for his age may be his father in law : and hath greater respect to the abundance of goods , than to his owne naturall childe . He beareth well in minde to fill his owne purse , but he litle remembreth that his daughters purse shal be continually emptie , vnlesse Maister Doctour fill it with double ducke egges . Alas : I iest and haue no ioy , I will stand here aside and laugh a litle at this lobcocke .

Dulippo espieth the Doctor and his man comming .

Scena . iiij . CARION the doctors man . CLEANDER . DVLIPO .

MAister , what the Diuel meane you to goe séeke guestes at this time of the day ? the Maiors officers haue dined ere this time , which are alway the last in the market .

Cle.

I come to séeke Pasiphilo , to the ende he may dine with mée .

Ca.

As though sixe mouthes and the cat for the seuenth , bée not sufficient to eate an harlotrie shotterell , a pennie-worth of cheese , and halfe a score spurlings : this is all the dainties you haue dressed for you and your familie .

Cle.

Ah gréedie gut , art thou afearde thou shalt want ?

Ca.

I am afearde in déede , it is not the first time I haue founde it so .

Du.

Shall I make some sporte with this gallant ? what shall I say to him ?

Cle.

Thou arte afearde belike that he will eate thée and the rest .

Ca.

Nay , rather that he will eate your mule , both heare and hyde .

Cle.

Heare and hyde ? and why not flesh and all ?

Ca.

Bicause she hath none . If she had any flesh , I thinke you had eaten hir your selfe by this time .

Cle.

She may thanke you then , for your good attendance .

Ca.

Nay she may thanke you for your small allowance .

Du.

In faith now let me alone .

Cle.

Holde thy peace drunken knaue , and espie me Pasiphilo .

Du.

Since I can doe no better , I will set such a staunce betwéene him and Pasiphilo , that all this towne shall not make them friendes .

Ca.

Could you not haue sent to séeke him , but you must come your selfe ? surely you come for some other purpose , for if you would haue had Pasiphilo to dinner , I warant you he would haue taried here an houre since .

Cle.

Holde thy peace , here is one of Damons seruaunts , An other supose . of him I shall vnderstand where he is : good fellow art not thou one of Damons seruaunts ?

Du.

Yes sir , at your knamandement .

Cle.

Gramercie , tell me then , hath Pasiphilo bene there this day or no ?

Du.

Yes sir , and I thinke he be there still , ah , ah , ah .

Cle.

What laughest thou ?

Du.

At a thing , that euery man may not laugh at .

Cle.

What ?

Du.

Talke , that Pasiphilo had with my master this day .

Cle.

What talke I pray thée ?

Du.

I may not tell it .

Cle.

Doth it concerne me ?

Du.

Nay I will say nothing .

Cle.

Tell me .

Du.

I can say no more .

Cle.

I woulde but knowe if it concerne mée , I pray thée tell mée .

Du.

I would tell you , if I were sure you would not tell it againe .

Cle.

Beleue me I will kepe it close : Carion giue vs leaue a litle , goe aside .

Du.

If my maister shoulde know that it came by me , I were better die a thousand deaths .

Cle.

He shall neuer know it , say on .

Du.

Yea , but what assurance shall I haue ?

Cle.

I lay thée my faith and honestie in paune .

Du.

A pretie paune , the fulkers will not lend you a farthing on it .

Cle.

Yea , but amongst honest men it is more worth than golde .

Du.

Yea marie sir , but where be they ? but will you néedes haue me tell it vnto you ?

Cle.

Yea I pray thée if it any thing appertaine to me .

Du.

Yes it is of you , and I would gladly tell it you , bicause I would not haue suche a man of worship so scorned by a villaine ribaulde .

Cle.

I pray thée tell me then .

Du.

I will tell you so that you will sweare neuer to tell it to Pasiphilo , to my maister , nor to any other bodie .

Ca.

Surely it is some toye deuised to get some money of him .

Cle.

I thinke I haue a booke here .

Ca.

If he knew him as well as I , he woulde neuer goe aboute it , for he may as soone get one of his téeth from his iawes with a paire of pinchers , as a pennie out of his purse with such a conceite .

Cle.

Here is a letter wil serue the turne : I sweare to thée by the contents hereof neuer to disclose it to any man .

Du.

I will tell you , I am sorie to see how Pasiphilo doth abuse you , perswading you that alwayes he laboureth for you , where in déede , he lieth on my maister continually , as it were with tooth and naile for a straunger , a scholer , borne in Sicilia they call him Roscus or arskisse , he hathe a madde name I can neuer hit vpon it .

Cle.

And thou recknest it as madly : is it not Erostrato ?

Du.

That same I should neuer haue remembred it : and the villany speaketh al the euill of you that can be deuised .

Cle.

To whom ?

Du.

To my maister , yea and to Polynesta hirselfe sometimes .

Cle.

Is it possible , Ah slaue , and what saith he ?

Du.

More euill than I can imagine : that you are the miserablest and most nigardly man that euer was .

Cle.

Sayeth Pasiphilo so by me ?

Du.

And that as often as he commeth to your house , he is like to die for hunger , you fare so well .

Cle.

That the Deuill take him else .

Du.

And that you are the testiest man , & moste diuers to please in the whole worlde , so that he cannot please you vnlesse he should euen kill himselfe with continuall paine .

Cle.

O deuilish tong .

Du.

Furthermore , that you cough continually and spit , so that a dogge cannot abide it .

Cle.

I neuer spitte nor coughe more than thus , vho , vho , and that but since I caughte this murre , but who is frée from it ?

Du.

You saye true sir , yet further he sayth , your arme holes stincke , your féete worse than they , and your breathe worst of all .

Cle.

If I quite him not for this geare .

Du.

And that you are bursten in the cods .

Cle.

O villaine , he lieth , and if I were not in the stréete thou shouldest sée them .

Du.

And he saith , that you desire this yong gentle woman , as much for other mens pleasure as for your owne .

Cle.

What meaneth he by that ?

Du.

Peraduenture that by hir beautie , you woulde entice many yong men to your house .

Cle.

Yong men ? to what purpose ?

Du.

Nay , gesse you that .

Cle.

Is it possible that Pasiphilo speaketh thus of me ?

Du.

Yea , and much more .

Cle.

And doth Damon beléeue him ?

Du.

Yea , more than you would thinke : in such sort , that long ere this , he woulde haue giuen you a flat repulse , but Pasiphilo intreated him to continue you a suter for his aduantage .

Cle.

How for his aduantage ?

Du.

Marie , that during your sute he might still haue some rewarde for his great paines .

Cle.

He shall haue a rope , and yet that is more than he deserueth : I had thought to haue giuen him these hose when I had worne them a litle nearer , but he shall haue a. &c.

Du.

In good faith sir , they were but loste on him . Will you any thing else with me sir ?

Cle.

Nay , I haue heard to much of thée already .

Du.

Then I will take my leaue of you .

Cle.

Farewell , but tell me , may I not know thy name ?

Du.

Sir , they call me Foule fall you .

Cle.

An ill fauored name by my trouthe : arte thou this countrey man ?

Du.

No sir , I was borne by a castle men cal Scabbe catch you : fare you well sir .

Cle.

Farewel . Oh God how haue I bene abused ? what a spokesman ? what a messanger had I prouided ?

Car.

Why sir , will you tarie for Pasiphilo till we die for hunger ?

Cle.

Trouble me not , that the Deuill take you both .

Car.

These newes what so euer they be , like him not .

Cle.

Art thou so hungrie yet ? I pray to God thou be neuer satisfied .

Car.

By the masse no more I shal as long as I am your seruaunt .

Cle.

Goe with mischaunce .

Car.

Yea , and a mischiefe to you , and to al such couetous wretches .

Finis Actus . 2.

Actus . iij.

Scena . j. DALIO the cooke . CRAPINE the lackie . EROSTRATO , DVLIPO .

BY that time we come to the house , I truste that of these xx . egges in the basket we shall find but very few whole . But it is a folly to talke to him . What the deuill , wilt thou neuer lay that sticke out of thy hande ? he fighteth with the dogges , beateth the beares , at euery thing in the streate he findeth occasion to tarie : if he spie a slipstring by the waye such another as himself , a Page , a Lackie or a dwarfe , the deuill of hell cannot holde him in chaynes , but he will be doing with him : I cannot goe two steppes , but I muste looke backe for my yonker : goe to halter sicke , if you breake one egge I may chance breake , &c.

Cra.

What will you breake ? your nose in mine & c ?

Da.

Ah beast .

Cra.

If I be a beast , yet I am no horned beast .

Da.

Is it euen so ? is the winde in that doore ? If I were vnloden I would tel you whether I be a horned beast or no.

Cra.

You are alway laden either with wine or with ale .

Dal.

Ah spitefull boy , shall I suffer him ?

Cra.

Ah cowardely beast , darest thou strike and say neuer a woorde ?

Dal.

Well , my maister shall know of this géere , either he shall redresse it , or he shall lose one of vs .

Cra.

Erostra . & Du. ex improuiso . Tel him the worst thou canst by me .

Ero.

What noise , what a rule is this ?

Cra.

Marie sir , he striketh mée bicause I tell him of his swearing .

Dal.

The villaine lieth deadly , he reuiles me bicause I bid him make hast .

Ero.

Holla : no more of this . Dalio , doe you make in a readinesse those Pigeons , stock Doues , and also the breast of Veale : and let your vessell be as cleare as glasse against I returne , that I may tell you which I will haue roasted , & which boyled . Crapine , say downe that basket and followe me . Oh that I coulde tell where to finde Pasiphilo , but looke where he commeth that can tell me of him .

Dul.

Dulipo is espied by Erostrato . What haue you done with Philogano your father ?

Ero.

I haue left him within , I would faine speake with Pasiphilo , can you tell me where he is ?

Du.

He dined this day with my maister , but whether he went from thence I know not , what would you with him ?

Ero.

I woulde haue him goe tell Damon that Philogano my father is come and ready to make assurance of as much as he wil require . Now shall I teach maister doctor a schole point , he trauaileth to none other end but to catche Cornua , and he shall haue them , for as old as he is , and as many subtilties as he hath learned in the law , he can not goe beyond me one ace .

Du.

O déere friend , goe thy wayes séeke Pasiphilo , finde him out , and conclude somewhat to our contentation .

Ero.

But where shall I finde him ?

Du.

At the feasts if there be any , or else in the market with the poulters or the fishmongers .

Ero.

What should he doe with them ?

Du.

Mary he watcheth whose Caters bie the best meat . If any bie a fat Capon , a good breast of Veale , fresh Samon or any suche good dishe , he followeth to the house , and either with some newes , or some stale iest he will be sure to make himselfe a geast .

Ero.

In faith , and I will séeke there for him .

Du.

Then muste you néedes finde him , and when you haue done I will make you laughe .

Ero.

Whereat ?

Du.

At certaine sport I made to day with master doctor .

Ero.

And why not now ?

Du.

No it asketh further leysure , I pray thée dispatche , and finde out Pasiphilo that honest man .

Dulipo tarieth . Erostrato goeth out .

Scena . ij . DVLIPO alone .

THis amorous cause that hangeth in controuersie betwene Domine doctor & me , may be compared to them that play at primero : of whom some one peraduenture shal léese a great sum of money before he win one stake , & at last halfe in anger shal set vp his rest : win it : & after that another , another , & another , till at last he draw the most part of the money to his heape : the other by litle & litle stil diminishing his rest , til at last he be come as néere the brinke , as earst the other was : yet again peraduenture fortune smiling on him , he shal as it were by péece meale , pull out the guts of his fellows bags , & bring him barer than he himselfe was tofore , & so in play continue stil , ( fortune fauoring now this way , now that way ) til at last the one of them is left with as many crosses as God hath brethren . O howe often haue I thoughte my selfe sure of the vpper hande herein ? but I triumphed before the victorie . And then how ofte againe haue I thoughte the fielde loste ? Thus haue I béene tossed nowe ouer , nowe vnder , euen as fortune list to whirle the whéele , neither sure to winne nor certayne to loose the wager . And this practise that nowe my seruaunte hath deuised , although hitherto it hath not succeeded amisse , yet can I not count my selfe assured of it : for I feare still that one mischance or other wyll come and turne it topsie turuie . But looke where my mayster commeth .

Damon comming in , espieth Dulipo and calleth him .

Scena . iij. DAMON . DVLIPO . NEVOLA , and two mo seruants .

DVlipo .

Du.

Here sir .

Da.

Go in and bid Neuola and his fellowes come hither that I may tell them what they shall goe about , and go you into my studie : there vpon the shelfe you shall find a roule of writings which Iohn of the Deane made to my Father , when he solde him the Grange ferme , endorced with bothe their names : bring it hither to me .

Du.

It shall be done sir .

Da.

Go , I wil prepare other maner of writings for you than you are aware of . O fooles that trust any man but themselues now adaies : oh spiteful fortune , thou doest me wrong I thinke , that from the depth of Hell pitte thou haste sente mée this seruaunt to be the subuersion of me and all mine . Come hither sirs , The seruants come in . and heare what I shal say vnto you : go into my studie , where you shall finde Dulipo , step to him all at once , take him and ( with a corde that I haue laide on the table for the nonce ) bind him hande and foote , carie him into the dungeon vnder the stayres , make faste the dore & bring me the key , it hangeth by vpon a pin on the wall . Dispatche and doe this geare as priuily as you can : and thou Neuola come hither to me againe with spéede .

Ne.

Well I shall .

Da.

Alas how shall I be reuenged of this extreme despite ? if I punishe my seruant according to his diuelishe deserts , I shall heape further cares vpon mine owne head : for to suche detestable offences no punishment can séeme sufficient , but onely death , and in such cases it is not lawful for a man to be his owne caruer . The lawes are ordeyned , and officers appoynted to minister iustice for the redresse of wrongs : and if to the potestates I complayne me , I shall publishe mine owne reproche to the worlde . Yea , what should it preuayle me to vse all the puinishments that can be deuised ? the thing once done can not be vndone . My daughter is defloured , and I vtterly dishonested : how can I then wype that blot off my browe ? and on whome shall I séeke reuenge ? Alas , alas I my selfe haue bene the cause of all these cares , and haue deserued to beare the punishment of all these mishappes . Alas , I should not haue committed my dearest darling in custodie to so carelesse a creasure as this olde Nurse : for we see by common proofe , that these olde women be either péeuishe , or pitifull : either easily enclined to euill , or quickly corrupted with bribes and rewards . O wife , my good wife ( that nowe lyest colde in the graue ) now may I well bewayle the wante of thée , and mourning nowe may I bemone that I misse thée : if thou hadst liued ( suche was thy gouernement of the least things ) that thou wouldest prudently haue prouided for the preseruation of this pearle . A costly iewell may I well accompte hir , that hath béen my chéefe comforte in youth , and is nowe become the corosiue of mine age . O Polynesta , full euill hast thou requited the clemencie of thy carefull father : and yet to excuse thée giltlesse before God , and to condemne thée giltie before the worlde , I can count none other but my wretched selfe the caytife and causer of all my cares . For of al the dueties that are requisite in humane lyfe , onely obedience is by the parents to be required of the childe : where on the other side the parents are bound , first to beget them , then to bring them foorth , after to nourish them , to preserue them from bodily perils in the cradle , from daunger of soule by godly education , to matche them in consort enclined to vertue , too banish them all ydle and wanton companie , to allow them sufficiente for their sustentation , to cut off excesse the open gate of sinne , seldome or neuer to smile on them vnlesse it be to their encouragement in vertue , and finally , to prouide them mariages in time conuenient , lest ( neglected of vs ) they learne to sette either to much or to litle by themselues . Fiue yeares are past since I might haue maried hir , when by continuall excuses I haue prolonged it to my owne perdition . Alas , I shoulde haue considered , she is a collop of my owne flesh : what shold I think to make hir a princesse ? Alas alas , a poore kingdome haue I now caught to endowe hir with : It is too true , that of all sorowes this is the head source and chiefe fountaine of all furies : the goods of the world are incertain , the gaines to be reioyced at , and the losse not greatly to be lamented : only the children cast away , cutteth the parents throate with the knife of inward care , which knife will kill me surely , I make none other accompte .

Damons seruants come to him againe .

Scena . iiij . NEVOLA . DAMON . PASIPHILO .

SIr , we haue done as you hadde vs , and here is the key .

Da.

Well , go then Neuola and séeke master Casteling the iayler , he dwelleth by S. Antonies gate , desire him too lend me a paire of the fetters he vseth for his prisoners , and come againe quickly .

Ne.

Well sir .

Da.

Heare you , if he aske what I would do with them , say you can not tell , and tell neither him nor any other , what is become of Dulipo . Damon goeth out .

I warant you sir . Fye vpon the Deuill , An other suppose . it is a thing almost vnpossible for a man nowe a dayes to handle money , but the mettal will sticke on his fingers : I maruelled alway at this fellowe of mine Dulipo , that of the wages he receiued , he could maintaine himselfe so brauely apparelled , but nowe I perceiue the cause , he had the disbursing and receit of all my masters affaires , the keys of the granair , Dulippo here , Dulippo there , fauoure with my maister , in fauoure with his daughter , what woulde you more , he was Magister factotum : he was as fine as the Crusadoe , and wée silly wretches as course as canuas : wel , behold what it is come to in the ende , he had bin better to haue done lesse . Pasi . subito & improuiso venit .

Pa.

Thou saist true Neuola , he hath done to much in déed .

Ne.

From whence commest thou in the deuils name ?

Pa.

Out of the same house thou camest from , but not out of the same dore .

Ne.

We had thought thou hadst bene gone long since .

Pa.

When I arose from the table , I felte a rumbling in my belly , whiche made me runne to the stable , and there I fell on sléepe vppon the strawe , and haue line there euer since : And thou whether goest thou ?

Ne.

My master hath sent me on an errand in great hast .

Pa.

Whether I pray thée ?

Ne.

Nay I may not tell : Farewell .

Pa.

As though I néede any further instructions : O God what newes I heard euen now , as I lay in the stable : O good Erostrato and pore Cleander , An other suppose . that haue so earnestly strouen for this damsel , happie is he that can get hir I promise you , he shall be sure of mo than one at a clap that catcheth hir , eyther Adam or Eue within hir belie . Oh God , how men may be deceiued in a woman ? who wold haue beléeued the contrary but that she had bin a virgin ? aske the neighbours and you shall heare very good report of hir : marke hir behauiors & you would haue iudged hir very maydenly : seldome séene abroade but in plac● of prayer , and there very deuout , and no gaser at outwarde sightes , no blaser of hir beautie aboue in the windowes , no stale at the doore for the bypassers : you would haue thought hir a holy yong woman . But muche good doe it Domine Doctor , hee shall be sure to lacke no CORNE in a deare yere , whatsoeuer he haue with hir else : I beshrewe me if I let the mariage any way . But is not this the old scabbed queane that I heard disclosing all this géere to hir master , as I stoode in the stable ere nowe ? it is shée . Whither goeth Psiteria ?

Pasiphilo espieth Psiteria comming .

Scena . v. PSITERIA , PASIPHILO .

TO a Gossip of myne héereby .

Pa.

What ? to tattle of the goodly stirre that thou keptst concerning Polynesta .

Ps.

No no : but how knew you of that géere ?

Pa.

You tolde me .

Ps.

I ? when did I tell you ?

Pa.

Euen now when you tolde it to Damon , I both sawe you and heard you , though you saw not me : a good parte I promise you , to accuse the poore wenche , kill the olde man with care , ouer and besides the daunger you haue brought Dulipo and the Nursse vnto , and many moe , fie , fie .

Ps.

In déed I was to blame , but not so much as you think .

Pa.

And how not so muche ? did I not heare you tell ?

Ps.

Yes , But I will tell you how it came to passe : I haue knowen for a great while , that this Dulipo and Polynesta haue lyen togither , and all by the meanes of the nurse : yet I held my peace , and neuer tolde it . Now this other day the Nursse sell on scolding with me , and twyce or thryce called me drunken olde whore , and suche names that it was too badde : and I called hir baude , and tolde hir that I knew well enoughe howe often she had brought Dulipo to Polynestas bed : yet all this while I thought not that anye body had heard me , but it befell cleane contrarye : for my maister was on the other side of the wall , and heard all our talke , where vpon he sent for me , and forced me to confesse all that you heard .

Pas.

And why wouldest thou tell him ? I woulde not for . &c.

Ps.

Well , if I had thought my maister would haue taken it so , he should rather haue killed me .

Pas.

Why ? how could he take it ?

Ps.

Alas , it pitieth me to sée the poore yong woman how she wéepes , wailes , and teares hir heare : not esteming hir owne life halfe so deare as she doth poore Dulipos : and hir father , he wéepes on the other side , that it would pearce an hart of stone with pitie : but I must be gone .

Pas.

Go that the gunne pouder consume thée olde trotte .

Finis Actus . 3.

Actus . iiij .

Scena . j. EROSTRATO fained .

WHat shall I doe ? Alas what remedie shall I finde for my ruefull estate ? what escape , or what excuse may I now deuise to shifte ouer our subtile supposes ? for though to this day I haue vsurped the name of my maister , and that without checke or controll of any man , now shal I be openly discyphred , and that in the sight of euery man : now shal it openly be knowen , whether I be Erostrato the gentleman , or Dulipo the seruaunt . We haue hitherto played our parts in abusing others : but nowe commeth the man that wil not be abused , the right Philogano the right father of the right Erostrato : going to seke Pasiphilo , and hearing that he was at the water gate , beholde I espied my fellowe Litio , and by and by my olde maister Philogano setting forth his first step on land : I to fuge and away hither as fast as I could to bring word to the right Erostrato , of his right father Philogano , that to so sodaine a mishap some subtile shift might be vpon the sodaine deuised . But what can be imagined to serue the turne , although we had monethes respite to beate oure braines about it , since we are commonly knowen , at the least supposed in this towne , he for Dulipo , a slaue & seruant to Damon , & I for Erostrato a gentleman & a student ? But beholde , runne Crapine to yonder olde woman before she get within the doores , & desire hir to call out Dulipo : but heare you ? if she aske who would speake with him , saye thy selfe and none other .

Erostrato espieth Psiteria comming , and sendeth his lackey to hir .

Scena . ij . CRAPINE . PSITERIA . EROSTRATO fained .

HOnest woman , you gossip , thou rotten whore , hearest thou not olde witche ?

Ps.

A rope stretche your yong bones , either you muste liue to be as old as I , or be hanged while you are yong .

Cra.

I pray thée loke if Dulipo be within .

Ps.

Yes that he is I warrant him .

Cra.

Desire him then to come hither and speake a word with me , he shall not tarie .

Ps.

Content your selfe , he is otherwise occupied .

Cra.

Yet tell him so gentle girle .

Ps.

I tell you he is busie .

Cra.

Why is it such a matter to tell him so , thou crooked Crone ?

Ps.

A rope stretche you marie .

Cra.

A pockes eate you marie .

Ps.

Thou wilt be hanged I warant thée , if thou liue to it .

Cra.

And thou wilt be burnt I warant thée , if the canker consume thée not .

Ps.

If I come néere you hempstring , I will teache you to sing solfa .

Cra.

Come on , and if I get a stone I will scare crowes with you .

Ps.

Goe with a mischiefe , I thinke thou be some deuill that woulde tempte me .

Ero.

Crapine : heare you ? come away , let hir goe with a vengeance , why come you not ? Alas loke where my maister Philogano commeth : what shall I doe ? where shall I hide me ? he shall not sée me in these clothes , nor before I haue spoken with the right Erostrato .

Erostrato espyeth Phylogano commming , and runneth about to hide him .

Scena . iij. PHILOGANO . FERRARESE the Inne keper . LITIO a seruant .

HOnest man it is euen so : be you sure there is no loue to be compared like the loue of the parents towards their children . It is not long since I thought that a very waightie matter shoulde not haue made me come out of Sicilia , and yet now I haue taken this tedious toyle and trauaile vpon me , only to sée my sonne , and to haue him home with me .

Fer.

By my faith sir , it hath ben a great trauaile in dede , and to much for one of your age .

Phi.

Yea be you sure : I came in companie with certaine gentlemen of my countrey , who had affaires to dispatche as far as to Aneona , from thence by water too Rauenna , and from Rauenna hither , continually against the tide .

Fer.

Yea & I think that you had but homly lodging by that way .

Phi.

The worst that euer man had : but that was nothing to the stirre that the serchers kept with me when I came aborde the ship : Iesus how often they vntrussed my male , & ransaked a litle capcase that I had , tossed & turned al that was within it , serched my bosome , yea my breeches , that I assure you I thought they would haue flayed me to searche betwene the fell and the fleshe for fardings .

Fer.

Sure I haue heard no lesse , and that the marchants bobbe them somtimes , but they play the knaues still .

Phi.

Yea be you well assured , suche an office is the inheritance of a knaue , and an honest man will not meddle with it .

Fer.

Wel , this passage shal seme pleasant vnto you when you shall finde your childe in health and well : but I praye you sir why did you not rather send for him into Sicilia , than to come your selfe , specially since you had none other businesse ? peraduenture you had rather endanger your selfe by this noysome iourney , than hazard to drawe him from his studie .

Phi.

Nay , that was not the matter , for I had rather haue him giue ouer his studie altogither and come home .

Fer.

Why ? if you minded not to make him learned , to what ende did you send him hither at the first ?

Phi.

I will tell you : when he was at home he did as most yong men doe , he played many mad prankes and did many things that liked me not very well : and I thinking , that by that time he had sene the worlde , he would learne to know himselfe better , exhorted him to studie , and put in his election what place he would go to . At the last he came hither , and I thinke he was scarce here so sone as I felt the want of him , in suche sorte , as from that day to this I haue passed fewe nightes without teares . I haue written to him very often that he shoulde come home , but continually he refused stil , beseching me to continue his studie , wherein he doubted not ( as he said ) but to profite greatly .

Fer.

In dede he is very much commended of al men , and specially of the best reputed studentes .

Phi.

I am glad he hath not lost his time , but I care not greatly for so much knowledge . I would not be without the sighte of hym againe so long , for all the learning in the worlde . I am olde nowe , and if God shoulde call mée in his absence , I promise you I thinke it woulde driue me into disperation .

Fer.

It is commendable in a man to loue his children but to be so tender ouer them is more womanlike ?

Phi.

Well , I confesse it is my faulte : and yet I will tell you another cause of my comming hither , more waightie than this . Diuers of my countrey haue bene here since hée came hither , by whome I haue sente vnto him , and some of them haue bene thrice , some foure or fiue times at his house , and yet could neuer speake with him . I feare he applies his studie so , that he will not léese the minute of an houre from his booke . What , alas , he might yet talke with his countrymen for a while : he is a yong man , tenderly brought vp , and if he fare thus continually night & day at his booke , it may be enough to driue him into a frenesie .

Fer.

In dede , enough were as good as a feast . Loe you sir here is your sonne Erostratoes house , I will knocke .

Phi.

Yea , I pray you knocke .

Fer.

They heare not .

Phi.

Knocke againe ,

Fer.

I thinke they be on slepe .

Ly.

If this gate were your Grandefathers soule , you coulde not knocke more softly , let me come : ho , ho , is there any body within ?

Dalio commeth to the wyndowe , and there maketh them answere .

Scena . iiij . DALIO the cooke . FERARESE the inholder . PHILOGANO . LITIO his man .

WHat deuill of hell is there ? I thinke hée will breake the gates in péeces .

Li.

Marie sir , we had thoughte you had béene on sléepe within , and therefore we thought best to wake you : what doth Erostrato ?

Da.

He is not within .

Phi.

Open the dore good fellow I pray thée .

Da.

If you thinke to lodge here , you are deceiued I tell you , for here are guestes enowe already .

Phi.

A good fellow , and much for thy maister honesty by our Ladie : and what guestes I pray thée ?

Da.

Another suppose . Here is Philogano my maisters father , lately come out of Sicilia .

Phi.

Thou speakest truer than thou arte aware of , he will be , by that time thou hast opened the dore : open I pray thée hartily .

Da.

It is a small matter for me to open the dore , but here is no lodging for you , I tell you plaine , the house is full .

Phi.

Of whome ?

Da.

I tolde you : here is Philogano my maisters father come from Cathanea .

Phi.

And when came he ?

Da.

He came thrée houres since , or more , he alighted at the Aungell , and left his horses there : afterwarde my maister brought him hither .

Phi.

Good fellow , I thinke thou hast good sport to mocke mée .

Da.

Nay , I thinke you haue good sporet to make me tary here , as though I haue nothing else to doe : I am matched with an vnrulye mate in the kitchin . I will goe looke to him another while .

Phi.

I thinke he be drunken .

Fer.

Sure he semes so : sée you not how redde he is about the gilles ?

Phi.

Abide fellow , what Philogano is it whome thou talkest of ?

Da.

An honest gentleman , father to Erostrato my maister .

Phi.

And where is he ?

Da.

Here within .

Phi.

May we sée him ?

Da.

I thinke you may if you be not blind .

Phi.

Go to , go tel him here is one wold speake with him .

Da.

Mary that I will willingly doe .

Phi.

I can not tell what I shoulde say to this géere . Litio , what thinkest thou of it ?

Li.

I cannot tell you what I shoulde say sir , the worlde is large and long , Another suppose . there maye be moe Philoganos and moe Erostratos than one , yea and moe Ferraras , moe Sicilias , and moe Cathaneas : peraduenture this is not that Ferrara whiche you sent your sonne vnto .

Phi.

Peraduenture thou arte a foole , and he was another that answered vs euen now . But be you sure honest man , that you mistake not the house ?

Fer.

Nay , then god helpe , thinke you I knowe not Erostratos house ? yes , and himselfe also : I sawe him here no longer since than yesterday . But here commes one that wil tell vs tydings of him , I like his countenaunce better than the others that answered at the windowe erewhile .

Dalio draweth his hed in at the wyndowe , the Scenese commeth out .

Scena . v. SCENESE . PHLLOGANO . DALIO .

WOuld you speake with me sir ?

Phi.

Yea sir , I would faine knowe whence you are .

Sce.

Sir I am a Sicilian , at your commaundement .

Phi.

What part of Sicilia ?

Sce.

Of Cathanea .

Phi.

What shall I call your name ?

Sce.

My name is Philogano .

Phi.

What trade doe you occupie ?

Sce.

Marchandise .

Phi.

What marchandise brought you hither ?

Sce.

None , I ●ame onely to see a sonne that I haue here whom I sawe not these two yeares .

Phi.

What call they your sonne ?

Sce

Erostrato .

Phi.

Is Erostrato your sonne ?

Sce.

Yea verily .

Phi.

And are you Philogano ?

Sce.

The same .

Phi.

And a marchant of Cathanea ?

Sce.

What néede I tell you so often ? I will not tell you a lye .

Phi.

Yes , you haue told me a false lie , and thou arte a vilaine and no better .

Sce.

Sir , you offer me great wrong with these iniurious wordes .

Phi.

Nay , I will doe more than I haue yet proffered to doe , for I will proue thée a lyer , and a knaue to take vpon thée that thou art not .

Sce.

A stoute suppose . Sir I am Philogano of Cathanea , out of all doubte , if I were not I would be loth to tell you so .

Phi.

Oh , sée the boldnesse of this brute beast , what a brasen face he setteth on it ?

Sce.

Well , you may beleue me if you liste : what wonder you ?

Phi.

I wonder at thy impudencie , for thou , nor nature that framed thée , can euer counterfaite thee to be me , ribauld villaine , and lying wretch that thou arte .

Da.

A pleasant suppose . Shall I suffer a knaue to abuse my maisters father thus ? hence villaine , hence , or I will sheath this good fawchion in your paunch : if my maister Erostrato find you prating here on this fashion to his father , I wold not be in your coate for mo conney skins than I gat these twelue monethes : come you in againe sir , and let this Curre barke here till he burst .

Dalio pulleth the Scenese in at the dores .

Scena . vj. PHILOGANO . LITIO . FERARESE .

LItio , how likest thou this géere ?

Li.

Sir , I like it as euill as may be : but haue you not often heard tell of the falsehood of Ferara , and now may you sée , it falleth out accordingly .

Fer.

Friend , you do not well to slaunder the Citie , these men are no Ferrareses you may know by their tong .

Li.

Well , there is neuer a barrell better herring , béetwene you both : but in déed your officers are most to blame , that suffer such faultes to escape vnpunished .

Fer.

What knowe the officers of this ? thinke you they know of euery fault ?

Li.

Nay , I thinke they will knowe as little as may bée , specially when they haue no gaines , by it , but they ought to haue their eares as open to heare of such offences , as the In-gates be to receiue guests .

Phi.

Holde thy peace foole .

Li.

By the masse I am a fearde that we shall be proued fooles both two .

Phi.

Well , what shall we doe ?

Li.

I would thinke best we should go séeke Erostrato him selfe .

Fer.

I will waite vpon you willingly , and either at the schooles , or at the conuocations , we shall find him .

Phi.

By our Lady I am wery , I will run no longer about to seke him , I am sure hither he will come at the last .

Li.

Sure , A true suppose . my mind giues me that we shall find a new Erostrato ere it be long .

Fe.

Looke where he is , whether runnes he ? stay you awhile , I will goe tell him that you are here : Erostrato , Erostraro , ho Erostrato , I would speake with you .

Erostrato is espied vppon the stage running about .

Scena . vij . Fained EROSTRATO . FERARESE . PHILOGANO . LITIO . DALIO .

NOwe can I hide me no longer . Alas what shall I doe : I will set a good face on , to beare out the matter .

Fera.

O Erostrato , Philogano your father is come out of Sicilia .

Ero.

Tell me that I knowe not , I haue bene with him and séene him alredy .

Fera.

Is it possible ? and it séemeth by him that you know not of his comming .

Ero.

Why , haue you spoken with him ? when saw you him I pray you ?

Fera.

Loke you where he standes , why go you not too him ? Looke you Philogano , beholde your deare son Erostrato .

Phi.

Erostrato ? this is not Erostrato : thys séemeth rather to be Dulipo , and it is Dulipo in déede .

Li.

Why , doubte you of that ?

Ero.

What saith this honest man ?

Phi.

Mary sir , in deede you are so honorably ●ladde , it is no maruell if you loke bigge .

Ero.

To whome speaketh he ?

Phi.

What , God helpe , do you not know me ?

Ero.

As farre as I remember Sir , I neuer sawe you before .

Phi.

Harke Litio , h●●e is good géere , this honest man will not know me .

Ero.

A shamelesse suppose . Gentleman , you take your markes amisse .

Li.

Did I not tell you of the falsehood of Ferrara master ? Dulipo hath learned to play the knaue indifferently well since he came hither .

Phi.

Peace I say .

Ero.

Friend , my name is not Dulipo , aske you thorough out this towne of great and small , they know me : aske this honest man that is with you , if you wyll not beléeue me .

Ferra.

In déede , I neuer knewe him otherwise called than Erostrato : and so they call him , as many as knowe him .

Li.

Master , nowe you may sée the falsehood of these fellowes : this honest man your hoste , is of counsaile with him , A needelesse suppose . and would face vs down that it is Erostrato : beware of these mates .

Fera.

Friende , thou doest me wrong to suspect me , for sure I neuer hearde hym otherwise called than Erostrato .

Ero.

What name could you heare me called by , but by my right name ? But I am wise enough to stand prating here with this old man , I thinke he be mad .

Phi.

Ah runnagate , ah villaine traitour , doest thou vse thy master thus ? what hast thou done with my son villain ?

Da.

Doth this dogge barke here still ? and will you suffer him master thus to reuile you ?

Ero.

Come in , come in , what wilt thou do with thys pestil ?

Da.

I will rap the olde cackabed on the costerd .

Ero.

Away with it , & you sirra , lay downe these stones : come in at dore euery one of you , beare with him for his age , I passe not of his euill wordes .

Erostrato taketh all his seruantes in at the dores .

Scena . viij . PHILOGANO . FERARESE . LITIO .

ALas , who shall relieue my miserable estate ? to whome shall I complaine ? since he whome I brought vp of a childe , yea and cherished him as if he had bene mine owne , doth nowe vtterly denie to knowe me : and you whome I toke for an honest man , and he that should haue broughte me to the sighte of my sonne , are compacte with this false wretch , and woulde face me downe that he is Erostrato . An other suppose . Alas , you might haue some compassion of mine age , to the miserie I am now in , and that I am a stranger desolate of all comforte in this countrey : or at the least , you shoulde haue feared the vengeaunce of God the supreme iudge ( whiche knoweth the secrets of all harts ) in hearing this false witnesse with him , whome heauen and earth doe knowe to be Dulipo and not Erostrato .

Li.

If there be many such witnesses in this countrey , men may go about to proue what they wil in controuersies here .

Fer.

Well sir , you may iudge of me as it pleaseth you : & how the matter commeth to passe I know not , but truly , euer since he came first hither , I haue knowen him by the name of Erostrato the sonne of Philogano a Cathanese : nowe whether he be so in déede , or whether he be Dulipo , ( as you alledge ) let that be proued by them that knewe him before he came hether . But I protest before God , that whiche I haue said , is neither a matter compact with him , nor any other , but euen as I haue hard him called & reputed of al men .

Phi.

Out and alas , he whom I sent hither with my son to be his seruaunt , A shrewde suppose . and to giue attendance on him , hath eyther cut his throate , or by some euill meanes made him away : and hath not onely taken his garmentes , his bookes , his money , and that whiche he brought out of Sicilia with him , but vsurpeth his name also , and turneth to his owne commoditie the bills of exchaunge that I haue alwayes allowed for my sonnes expences . Oh miserable Philogano , oh vnhappie old man : oh eternall God , is there no iudge ? no officer ? no higher powers whom I may complaine vnto for redresse of these wrongs ?

Fer.

Yes sir , we haue potestates , we haue Iudges , and aboue al , we haue a most iuste prince : doubt you not , but you shall haue iustice if your cause be iust .

Phi.

Bring me then to the Iudges , to the potestates , or to whome you thinke best : for I will disclose a packe of the greatest knauerie , a fardell of the fowlest falsehoode that euer was heard of .

Li.

Sir , he that wil goe to the lawe , must be sure of foure things : first , a right and a iust cause : then a righteous aduocate to pleade : nexte , fauour coram Iudice : and aboue all , a good purse to procure it .

Fer.

I haue not heard , that the law hath any respect to fauour : what you meane by it I cannot tell .

Phi.

Haue you no regard to his wordes , he is but a foole .

Fer.

I pray you sir , let him tell me what is fauour .

Li.

Fauour cal I , to haue a friend néere about the iudge , who may so sollicite thy cause , as if it be right , spéedie sentence may ensue without any delayes : if it be not good , then to prolong it , till at the last , thine aduersarie being wearie , shal be glad to compound with thée .

Fer.

Of thus much ( although I neuer heard thus muche in this countrey before ) doubt you not Philogano , I will bring you to an aduocate that shall spéede you accordingly .

Phi.

Then shall I giue my selfe , as it were a pray to the Lawyers , whose insatiable iawes I am not able to féede , although I had here all the goods and landes which I possesse in mine own countrey : much lesse being a straunger in this miserie . I know their cautels of old : at the first time I come they wil so extoll my cause , as though it were already won : but within a seuennight or ten daies , if I do not continually féede them as the crow doth hir brattes , twentie times in an houre , they will begin to waxe colde , and to finde cauils in my cause , saying , that at the firste I did not well instructe them , till at the last , they will not onely drawe the stuffing out of my purse , but the marrow out of my bones .

Fer.

Yea sir , but this man that I tell you of , is halfe a Saincte .

Li.

And the other halfe a Deuill , I hold a pennie .

Phi.

Well sayd Litio , in déede I haue but smal confidence in their smothe lookes .

Fer.

Well sir , I thinke this whom I meane , is no suche manner of man : but if he were , An other suppose . there is such hatred and euil wil betwene him & this gentleman ( whether he be Erostrato or Dulipo , what so euer he be ) that I warrant you , he will doe whatsoeuer he can do for you , were it but to spite him .

Phi.

Why ? what hatred is betwixt them ?

Fer.

They are both in loue and suters to one gentlewoman , the daughter of a welthie man in this citie .

Phi.

Why ? is the villeine become of such estimation that he dare presume to be a suter to any gentlewoman of a good familie ?

Fer.

Yea sir out of all doubt .

Phi.

How call you his aduersarie ?

Fer.

Cleander , one of the excellentest doctors in our citie .

Phi.

For Gods loue let vs goe to him .

Fer.

Goe we then .

Finis Actus . 4.

Actus . v.

Scena . 1. Fayned EROSTRATO .

WHat a mishappe was this ? that before I could méete with Erostrato , I haue light euen ful in the lap of Philogano : where I was constrained to denie my name , to denie my master , & to faine that I knew him not , to contend with him , & to reuile him , in such sort , that hap what hap can , I can neuer hap well in fauour with him againe . Therefore if I could come to speake with the right Erostrato , I will renounce vnto him both habite and credite , and away as fast as I can trudge into some strange countrey , where I may neuer see Philogano againe . Alas , he that of a litle childe hath brought me vp vnto this day , Another suppose . and nourished me as if I had bene his owne : & in déede ( to confesse the trouth ) I haue no father to trust vnto but him . But looke where Pasiphilo commeth , the fittest man in the world to goe on me message to Erostrato .

Erostrato espieth Pasiphilo comming towards him .

Scena . ij . PASIPHILO . EROSTRATO .

TWo good newes haue I heard to day alreadie : one that Erostrato prepared a great feast this night : the other , that he séeketh for me . And I to ease him of his trauaile , least he shoulde runne vp and downe séeking me , and bicause no man loueth better than I to haue an erand where good chéere is , come in post hast euen home to his owne house : and loke where he is .

Ero.

Pasiphilo , thou muste doe one thing for me if thou loue me .

Pas.

If I loue you not , who loues you ? commaunde me .

Ero.

Go then a litle there , to Damons house , aske for Dulipo , and tell him .

Pas.

Wot you what ? I cannot speake with him , he is in prison .

Ero.

In prison ? how commeth that to passe ? where is he in prison ?

Pas.

In a vile dungeon there within his masters house .

Ero.

Canst thou tell wherefore ?

Pas.

Be you content to know he is in prison , I haue told you to muche .

Ero.

If euer you will doe any thing for me , tell me .

Pas.

I pray you desire me not , what were you the better if you knew ?

Ero.

More than thou thinkest Pasiphilo by God .

Pas.

Well , and yet it standes me vpon more than you thinke , to kéepe it secrete .

Ero.

Why Pasiphilo , is this the trust I haue had in you ? are these the faire promises you haue awayes made me ?

Pas.

By the masse I would I had fasted this night with maister doctor , rather than haue come hither .

Ero.

Wel Pasiphilo , eyther tel me , or at few woordes neuer thinke to be welcome to this house from henceforthe .

Pas.

Nay , yet I had rather léese all the Gentlemen in this towne . But if I tell you any thing that displease you , blame no body but your selfe now .

Ero.

There is nothing can greue me more than Dulipoes mishappe , no not mine owne : and therfore I am sure thou canst tell me no worsse tidings .

Pa.

Another plain and homely suppose . Well , since you would néedes haue it , I wil tell you : he was taken a bed with your beloued Polynesta .

Ero.

Alas , and doth Damon knowe it ?

Pa.

An olde trotte in the house disclosed it to him , whervpon he tooke bothe Dulipo and the Nurse which hath bene the broker of all this bargayne , and clapte them bothe in a cage , where I thinke they shall haue sorowe soppes too their swéete meates .

Ero.

Pasiphilo , go thy wayes into the kitchin , commaund the cooke to boyle and roast what liketh thee best , I make thée supra visour of this supper .

Pa.

By the masse if you should haue studied this seuen-night , you could not haue appointed me an office to please me better . You shall sée what dishes I will deuise .

Pasiphilo goeth in , Erostrato tarieth .

Scena . iij. Fayned EROSTRATO alone .

I Was glad to rid him out of the way , least he shoulde sée me burst out of these swelling teares , which hitherto with great payne I haue prisoned in my brest , & least he shoulde heare the Eccho of my doubled sighes , whiche bounce from the botome of my heuy heart . O cursed I , O cruell fortune , that so many dispersed griefes as were sufficient to subuert a legion of Louers , hast sodenly assembled within my carefull carkase to treat this fearfull heart in sunder with desperation . Thou that hast kepte my master all his youthe within the realme of Sicilia , reseruing the wind and waues in a temperate calme ( as it were at his commaunde ) nowe to conuey his aged limmes hither , neither sooner nor later : but euen in the worst time that may be . If at any time before thou haddest conducted him , this enterprise had bene cut off without care in the beginning : and if neuer so little longer thou hadst lingred his iorney , this happie day might then haue fully finished our drifts & deuises . But alas , thou hast brought him euen in the very worst time , to plunge vs al in the pit of perdition . Neither art thou content to entangle me alone in thy ruinous ropes , but thou must also catch the right Erostrato in thy crooked clawes , to reward vs both with open shame & rebuke . Two yéeres hast thou kept secrete our subtill Supposes , euen this day to discipher them with a sorowfull successe . What shall I do ? Alas what shift shall I make ? it is too late now to imagine any further deceite , for euery minute séemeth an houre til I find some succour for the miserable captiue Erostrato . Wel , since there is no other remedie , I wil go to my master Philogano , & to him will I tell the whole truth of the matter , that at the least he may prouide in time , before his sonne féele the smart of some sharpe reuenge and punishment . This is the best , and thus wil I do . Yet I know , that for mine owne parte I shal do bitter penance for my faults forepassed : but suche is the good will and duetie that I beare to Erostrato , as euen with the losse of my life I must not sticke to aduenture any thing which may turne to his commoditie . But what shall I do ? shal I go séeke my master about the towne , or shall I tarrie his returne hither ? If I méete him in the stréetes , he wil crie out vpon me , neither will he harken to any thing that I shall say , till he haue gathered all the people wondring about me , as it were at an Owle . Therefore I were better to abide here , and yet if he tarrie long I will goe séeke him , rather than prolong the time to Erostratos perill .

Pasiphilo returneth to Erostrato .

Scena . iiij . PASIPHILO . Fayned EROSTRATO .

YEa dresse them , but lay them not to the fire , till they will be ready to sit downe . This géere goeth in order : but if I had not gone in , there had fallen a foule faulte .

Ero.

And what fault I pray thée ?

Pa.

Marie , Dalio would haue layd the shoulder of mutton and the Capon bothe to the fire at once like a foole : he did not consider , that the one woulde haue more roasting than the other .

Ero.

Alas , I would this were the greatest fault .

Pa.

Why ? and either the one should haue bene burned before the other had bene roasted , or else he muste haue drawne them off the spitte : and they would haue bene serued to the boorde either colde or rawe .

Ero.

Thou hast reason Pasiphilo .

Pa.

Now sir , if it please you I will goe into the towne and buye oranges , oliues , and caphers , for without suche sauce the supper were more than halfe lost .

Ero.

Erostrato exit . There are within already , doubt you not , there shal lacke nothing that is necessarie .

Pa.

Since I told him these newes of Dulipo , he is cleane beside himself : he hath so many hammers in his head , that his braynes are ready to burst : A knauishe suppose . and let them breake , so I may suppe with him to night , what care I ? But is not this Dominus noster Cleandrus that commeth before ? well sayde , by my truth we will teache maister Doctor to weare a cornerd cappe of a new fashion . By God Polynesta shal be his , he shall haue hir out of doubt , for I haue tolde Erostrato such newes of hir , that he will none of hir .

Cleander and Philogano come in , talking of the matter in controuersie .

Scena . v. CLEANDER . PHILOGANO . LITIO . PASIPHILO .

YEa , but howe will ye proue that he is not Erostrato , hauing such presumptions to the contrarie ? or how shall it be thought that you are Philogano , when an other taketh vpon him this same name , and for proofe bringeth him for a witnesse , which hath bene euer reputed here for Erostrato ?

Phi.

I will tel you sir , let me be kept here fast in prison , & at my charges let there be some man sent into Sicilia , that may bring hither with him two or thrée of the honestest men in Cathanea , and by them let it be proued if I or this other be Philogano , and whether he be Erostrato or Dulipo my seruant : & if you finde me contrarie , let me suffer death for it .

Pa.

I will go salute master Doctour .

Cle.

It will aske great labour & great expences to proue it this way , but it is the best remedie that I can see .

Pa.

God saue you sir .

Cle.

And reward you as you haue deserued .

Pa.

Then shall he giue me your fauour continually .

Cle.

He shall giue you a halter , knaue and villein that thou arte .

Pa.

I knowe I am a knaue , but no villein . I am your seruaunt .

Cle.

I neither take thée for my seruant , nor for my friend .

Pa.

Why ? wherein haue I offended you sir ?

Cle.

Hence to the gallowes knaue .

Pa.

What softe and faire sir , I pray you , I praesequar , you are mine elder .

Cle.

I will be euen with you , be you sure , honest man .

Pa.

Why sir ? I neuer offended you .

Cle.

Well , I will teach you : out of my sight knaue .

Pa.

What ? I am no dogge , I would you wist .

Cle.

Pratest thou yet villein ? I will make thée .

Pa.

What will you make me ? I sée wel the more a man doth suffer you , the worsse you are .

Cle.

Ah villein , if it were not for this gentleman , I wold tell you what I.

Pa.

Villein ? nay I am as honest a man as you .

Cle.

Thou liest in thy throate knaue .

Phi.

O sir , stay your wisedome .

Pas.

What will you fight ? marie come on .

Cle.

Well knaue , I will méete with you another time , goe your way .

Pas.

Euen when you list sir , I will be your man .

Cle.

And if I be not euen with thee , call me out .

Pas.

Nay by the Masse , all is one , I care not , for I haue nothing : if I had either landes or goods , peraduenture you would pull me into the lawe .

Phi.

Sir , I perceiue your pacience is moued .

Cle.

This villaine : but let him goe , I will see him punished as he hath deserued . Now to the matter , how said you ?

Phi.

Lawyers are neuer weary to get money . This fellow hath disquieted you sir , peraduenture you would be loth to be troubled any further .

Cle.

Not a whit , say on , & let him go with a vengeance .

Phi.

I say , let them send at my charge to Cathanea .

Cle.

Yea I remember that wel , & it is the surest way as this case requireth : but tel me , how is he your seruant ? and how come you by him ? enforme me fully in the matter .

Phi.

I will tell you sir : when the Turkes won Otranto .

Cle.

Oh , you put me in remembrance of my mishappes .

Phi.

How sir ?

Cle.

For I was driuen among the rest out of the towne ( it is my natiue countrey ) and there I lost more than euer I shall recouer againe while I liue .

Phi.

Alas , a pitifull case by S. Anne .

Cle.

Well , procéede .

Phi.

At that time ( as I saide ) there were certaine of our countrey that scoured those costes vpon the seas , with a good barke ; well appointed for the purpose , and had espiall of a Turkey vessell that came laden from thence with great aboundance of riches .

Cle.

A gentle suppose . And peraduenture most of mine .

Phi.

So they boarded them , & in the end ouercame them , & brought the goods to Palermo , 〈◊〉 whence they came , and amongst other things that they had , was this villeine my seruaunt , a boy at that time , I thinke not past fiue yéeres olde .

Cle.

Alas , I lost one of that same age there .

Phi.

And I beyng there , and liking the Childes fauour well , proffered them foure and twentie ducates for him , and had him .

Cle.

What ? was the childe a Turke ? or had the Turkes brought him from Otranto ?

Phi.

They saide he was a Childe of Otranto , but what is that to the matter ? once .xxiiij. Ducattes he cost me , that I wot well .

Cle.

Alas , I speake it not for that sir , I woulde it were he whome I meane .

Phi.

Why , whom meane you sir ? A crafty suppose .

Liti.

Beware sir , be not to lauish .

Cle.

Was his name Dulipo then ? or had he not another name ?

Liti.

Beware what you say sir .

Phi.

What the deuill hast thou to doe ? Dulipo ? no sir his name was Carino .

Liti.

Yea , well said , tell all and more to , doe .

Cle.

O Lord , if it be as I thinke , how happie were I ? & why did you change his name then ?

Phi.

We called him Dulipo , bycause when he cryed as Chrildren doe sometimes , he woulde alwayes cry on that name Dulipo .

Cle.

Well , then I sée well it is my owne onely Childe , whome I loste , when I loste my countrie : he was named Carino after his grandfather , and this Dulipo whome he alwayes remembred in his lamenting , was his foster father that nourished him and brought him vp .

Li.

Sir , haue I not told you enough of the falshood of Ferara ? this gentleman will not only picke your purse , but beguile you of your seruaunt also , & make you beleue he is his son .

Cle.

Well goodfellow , I haue not vsed to lie .

Liti.

Sir no , but euery thing hath a beginning .

Cle.

Fie , Philogano haue you not the least suspecte that may be of me .

Liti.

No marie , but it were good he had the most suspecte that may be .

Cle.

Well , hold thou thy peace a litle good follow . I pray you tell me Philogano had the child any remembrance of his fathers name , his mothers name , or the name of his familie ?

Phi.

He did remember them , and could name his mother also , but sure I haue forgotten the name .

Liti.

I remember it well enough .

Phi.

Tell it then .

Liti.

Nay , that I will not marie , you haue tolde him too much al ready .

Phi.

Tell it I say , if thou can .

Liti.

Can ? yes by the masse I can wel enough : but I wil haue my tong pulled out , rather than tell it , vnlesse he tell it first : doe you not perceiue sir , what he goeth about ?

Cle.

Well , I will tell you then , my name you know alredy : my wife his mothers name was Sophronia , the house that I came of , they call Spiagia .

Liti.

I neuer heard him speake of Spiagia but in déede I haue heard him say , his mothers name was Sophronia : but what of that ? a great matter I promise you . It is like enoughe that you two haue compact together to deceiue my maister .

Cle.

What nedeth me more euident tokens ? this is my sonne out of doubt whom I lost eighteen yeares since , and a thousand thousand times haue I lamented for him : he shuld haue also a mould on his left shoulder .

Li.

He hath a moulde there in deede : and an hole in an other place to , I would your nose were in it .

Cle.

Faire wordes fellow Litio : oh I pray you let vs goe talke with him , O fortune , howe much am I bounde to thée if I finde my sonne ?

Phi.

Yea how little am I beholden to fortune , that know not where my sonne is become , and you whome I chose to be mine aduocate , will nowe ( by the meanes of this Dulipo ) become mine aduersarie ?

Cle.

A right suppose . Sir , let vs first goe find mine : and I warrant you yours will be founde also ere it be long .

Phi.

God graunt : goe we then ,

Cle.

Since the dore is open , I will neuer knocke nor cal , but we will be bolde to goe in .

Li.

Sir , take you héede , least he leade you to some mischiefe .

Phi.

Alas Litio , if my sonne be loste what care I what become of me ?

Li.

Well , I haue tolde you my minde Sir , doe you as you please .

Exeunt : Damon and Psiteria come in .

Scena sexta . DAMON . PSITERIA .

COme hither you olde kallat , you tatling huswife , that the deuill cut oute your tong : tell me , howe could Pasiphilo know of this géere but by you ?

Psi .

Sir , he neuer knewe it of me , he was the firste that tolde me of it .

Da.

Thou liest old drabbe , but I would aduise you tel me the truth , or I wil make those old bones rattle in your skin .

Psi .

Sir , if you finde me contrarie , kill me .

Da.

Why ? where should he talke with thée ?

Psi .

He talked with me of it here in the streete .

Da.

What did you here ?

Psi .

I was going to the weauers for a webbe of clothe you haue there .

Da.

And what cause coulde Pasiphilo haue to talke of it , vnlesse thou began the mater first ?

Psi .

Nay , he began with me sir , reuiling me , bycause I had tolde you of it : I asked him how he knewe of it , and he said he was in the stable when you examined me ere while .

Da.

Alas , alas , what shall I doe then ? in at dores olde whore , I wil plucke that tong of thine out by the rootes one day . Alas it gréeueth me more that Pasiphilo knoweth it , than all the rest . He that will haue a thing kept secrete , let him tell it to Pasiphilo : the people shall knowe it , and as many as haue eares and no mo . By this time he hath tolde it in a hundreth places . Cleander was the firste , Erostrato the seconde , and so from one to another throughout the citie . Alas , what dower , what mariage shall I nowe prepare for my daughter ? O poore dolorons Damon , more miserable than miserie it selfe , The first suppose brought to conclusion . would God it were true that Polynesta tolde me ere while : that he who hathe deflowred hir , is of no seruile estate , ( as hitherto he hath bene supposed in my seruice ) but that he is a gentleman borne of a good parentage in Sicilia . Alas , small riches shoulde content me , if he be but of an honest familie : but I feare that he hathe deuised these toyes to allure my daughters loue . Well I wil goe examine hir againe , my minde giueth me that I shall perceiue by hir tale whether it be true or not . But is not this Pasiphilo that commeth out of my neighbours house ? what the deuill ayleth him to leape and laughe so like a foole in the high way ?

Pasiphilo commeth out of the towne laughing .

Scena septima . PHILOGANO . DAMON

O God , that I might finde Damon at home .

Da.

What the diuill would he with me ?

Pas.

That I may be the firste that shall bring him these newes .

Da.

What will he tell me , in the name of God ?

Pas.

O Lord , how happie am I ? loke where he is .

Da.

What newes Pasiphilo , that thou arte so merie ?

Pas.

Sir I am mery to make you glad : I bring you ioyfull newes .

Da.

And that I haue nede of Pasiphilo .

Pas.

I knowe sir , that you are a sorowfull man for this mishap that hath chaunced in your house , peraduenture you thoughte I had not knowen of it . But let it passe , plucke vp your sprits , and reioyce : for he that hath done you this iniurie is so well borne , and hath so riche parents , that you may be glad to make him your sonne in law .

Da.

How knowest thou ?

Pas.

His father Philogano one of the worthiest men in all Cathanea , is nowe come to the citie , and is here in your neighbours house .

Da.

What , in Erostratos house ?

Pas.

Nay in Dulipos house : for where you haue alwayes supposed this gentleman to be Erostrato , it is not so , but your seruaunt whom you haue emprisoned hitherto , supposed to be Dulipo , he is in dede Erostrato : and that other is Dulipo . And thus they haue alwayes , euen since their first ariual in this citie , exchaunged names , to the ende that Erostrato the maister , vnder the name of Dulipo a seruant , might be entertained in your house , & so winne the loue of your daughter .

Da.

Wel , then I perceiue it is euen as Polinesta told me .

Pas.

Why , did she tell you so ?

Da.

Yea : But I thought it but a tale .

Pas.

Well , it is a true tale : and here they will be with you by and by : both Philogano this worthie man , and maister doctor Cleander .

Da.

Cleander ? what to doe ?

Pas.

Cleander ? Why therby lies another tale , the moste fortunate aduenture that euer you heard : wot you what ? this other Dulipo , whome all this while we supposed to be Erostrato , is founde to be the sonne of Cleander , whome he lost at the losse of Otranto , and was after solde in Sicilia too this Philogano the strangest case that euer you heard : a man might make a Comedie of it . They wil come euen straight , and tell you the whole circumstance of it themselues .

Da.

Nay I will first goe heare the storie of this Dulipo , be it Dulipo or Erostrato that I haue here within , before I speake with Philogano .

Pas.

So shall you doe well sir , I will goe tell them that they may stay a while , but loke where they come .

Damon goeth in , Scenese , Cleander and Philogano come vpon the stage .

Scena .viij. SCENESE . CLEANDER . PHILOGANO .

SIr , you shal not nede to excuse the matter any further , since I haue receiued no greater iniurie than by words , let than passe like wind , I take them well in worthe : and am rather well pleased than offended : for it shall bothe be a good warning to me another time howe to trust euery man at the first sighte , yea , and I shall haue good game here after to tel this pleasant story another day in mine owne countrey .

Cle.

Gentleman , you haue reason : and be you sure , that as many as heare it , will take great pleasure in it . And you Philogano may thinke , that god in heauen aboue , hath ordained your comming hither at this present to the ende I mighte recouer my lost sonne , whom by no other meanes I coulde euer haue founde oute .

Phi.

Surely sir I thinke no lesse , for I think that not so much as a leafe falleth from the trée , without the ordinance of god . But let vs goe seke Damon , for me thinketh euery day a yeare , euery houre a daye , and euery minute to much till I sée my Erostrato .

Cle.

I cannot blame you , goe we then . Carino take you that gentleman home in the meane time , the fewer the better to be present at such affaires .

Pasiphilo stayeth their going in .

Scena .ix. PHILOGANO CLEANDER .

MAister doctor , will you not shew me this fauour , to tell me the cause of your displeasure ?

Cle.

Gentle Pasiphilo , I muste néedes confesse I haue done thée wrong , and that I beleued tales of thée , whiche in déede I finde now contrary .

Pas.

I am glad then that it procéedee rather of ignorance than of malice .

Cle.

Yea beleue me Pasiphilo .

Pas.

O sir , but yet you shoulde not haue giuen me suche foule wordes .

Cle.

Well , content thy selfe Pasiphilo , I am thy frende as I haue alwayes bene : for proofe whereof , come suppe with me to night , & from day to day this seuen night be thou my guest . But beholde , here commeth Damon out of his house .

Here they come all togither

Scena decima . CLEANDER . PHILOGANO . DAMON . EROSTRATO . PASIPHILO . POLINESTA . NEVOLA . and other seruaunts .

WE are come vnto you sir , to turne you sorowe into ioy and gladnesse : the sorow , we meane , that of force you haue sustained since this mishappe of late fallen in your house . But be you of good comforte sir , and assure your selfe , that this yong man which youthfully and not maliciously hath commited this amorons offence , is verie well able ( with consent of this worthie man his father ) to make you sufficient amendes : being borne in Cathanea of Sicilia , of a noble house , no way inferiour vnto you , and of wealth ( by the reporte of suche as knowe it ) farre excéeding that of yours .

Phi.

And I here in proper person , doe presente vnto you sir , not onely my assured frendship and brotherhoode , but do earnestly desire you to accepte my poore childe ( though vnworthy ) as your sonne in lawe : and for recompence of the iniurie he hath done you , I profer my whole lands in dower to your daughter : yea and more would , if more I might .

Cle.

And I sir , who haue hitherto so earnestly desired your daughter in mariage , doe now willingly yelde vp and quite claime to this yong man , who both for his yeares and for the loue he beareth hir , is most méetest to be hir husband . For wher I was desirous of a wife by whom I might haue yssue , to leaue that litle which god hath sent me : now haue I litle néede , that ( thankes be to god ) haue founde my déerely beloued sonne , whom I loste of a childe at the siege of Otranto .

Da.

Worthy gentleman , your friendship , your alliaunce , and the nobilitie of your birthe are suche , as I haue muche more cause to desire them of you than you to request of me that which is already graunted . Therfore I gladly , and willingly receiue the same , and thinke my selfe moste happie now of all my life past , that I haue gotten so toward a sonne in lawe to my selfe , and so worthye a father in lawe to my daughter : yea and muche the greater is my contentation , since this worthie gentleman maister Cleander , doth holde himselfe satisfied . And now behold your sonne .

Ero.

O father .

Pas.

Beholde the naturall loue of the childe to the father : for inwarde ioye he cannot pronounce one worde , in steade wherof he sendeth sobbes and teares to tell the effect of his inward inuention . But why doe you abide here abrode ? wil it please you to goe into the house sir ?

Da.

Pasiphilo hath saide well : will it please you to goe in sir ?

Ne.

Here I haue brought you sir , bothe fetters & boltes .

Da.

Away with them now .

Ne.

Yea , but what shal I doe with them ?

Da.

Marie I will tell thée Neuola : to make a righte ende of our supposes , lay one of those boltes in the fire , and make thée a suppositorie as long as mine arme , God saue the sample . Nobles and gentlemen , if you suppose that our supposes haue giuen you sufficient cause of delighte , shewe some token , whereby we may suppose you are content .

Et plauserunt .

FINIS .

IOCASTA : A Tragedie written in Greeke by Euripides , translated and digested into Acte by George Gascoygne , and Francis Kinwelmershe of Grayes Inne , and there by them presented , 1566. The argument of the Tragedie . To scourge the cryme of wicked Laius , And wrecke the foule Incest of Oedipus , The angry Gods styrred vp theyr sonnes , by strife With blades embrewed to reaue eache others life : The wife , the mother , and the concubyne , ( Whose fearefull hart foredrad theyr fatall fine , ) Hir sonnes thus dead , disdayneth longer lyfe , And slayes hirself with selfsame bloudy knyfe : The daughter she , surprisde with childish dreade ( That durst not dye ) a lothsome lyfe doth leade , Yet rather chose to guide hir banisht sire , Than cruell Creon should haue his desire . Creon is King , the * * Fygure . type of Tyranny , And Oedipus , myrrour of misery . Fortunatus Infoelix .

The names of the Interloquutors . Iocasta , the Queene . Seruus , a noble man of the Queenes traine . Bailo , gouernour to the Queenes sonnes . Antygone , daughter to the Queene . Chorus , foure Thebane dames . Pollynices & Eteocles . sonnes to Oedipus & the Queene . Creon , the Queenes brother . Meneceus , sonne to Creon . Tyresias , the diuine priest . Manto , the daughter of Tyresias . Sacerdos , the sacrifycing priest . Nuntij , three messangers from the campe . Oedipus , the olde King father to Eteocles and Pollynices , sonne and husbande to Iocasta the Queene .

The Tragedie presented as it were in Thebes .

¶ The order of the dumme shewes and Musickes before euery Acte .

FIrste , before the beginning of the first Acte , did sounde a dolefull & straunge noyse of violles , Cythren , Bandurion , and such like , during the whiche , there came in vppon the Stage a king with an Imperial crown vppon his head , very richely apparelled : a Scepter in his righte hande , a Mounde with a Crosse in his lefte hande , sitting in a Chariote very richely furnished , drawne in by foure Kinges in their Dublettes and Hosen , with Crownes also vpon their heades . Representing vnto vs Ambition , by the hystorie of Sesostres king of Egypt , who beeing in his time and reigne a mightie Conquerour , yet not content to haue subdued many princes , and taken from them their kingdomes and dominions , did in like maner cause those Kinges whome he had so ouercome , to draw in his Chariote like Beastes and Oxen , thereby to content his vnbrideled ambitious desire . After he had beene drawne twyce about the Stage , and retyred , the Musicke ceased , and Iocasta the Queene issued out of hir house , beginning the firste Acte , as followeth . Iocasta the Queene issueth out of hir Pallace , before hir twelue Gentlemen , following after hir eight Gentlewomen , whereof foure be the Chorus that remayne on the Stage after hir departure . At hir entrance the Trumpettes sounded , and after she had gone once about the Stage , she turneth to one of hir most trustie and esteemed seruaunts , and vnto him she discloseth hir griefe , as foloweth .

The first Acte .

The first Scene . IOCASTA . SERVVS . O Faithfull seruaunt of mine auncient sire , Though vnto thée , sufficiently be knowne The whole discourse of my recurelesse griefe By seing me from Princes royall state Thus basely brought into so great contempt , As mine own sonnes repine to heare my plaint , Now of a Quéene but barely bearing name , Seyng this towne , seing my fleshe and bloude , Against it selfe to leuie threatning armes , ( Whereof to talke my heart it rendes in twaine ) Yet once againe , I must to thee recompte The wailefull thing that is already spred , Bicause I know , that pitie will compell Thy tender hart , more than my naturall childe , With ruthfull teares to mone my mourning case . Ser. My gracious Quéene , as no man might surmount The constant faith I beare my souraine Lorde , So doe I thinke , for loue and trustie zeale , No Sonne you haue , doth owe you more than I : For hereunto I am by dutie bounde , With seruice méete no lesse to honor you , Than that renoumed Prince your déere father . And as my duties be most infinite , So infinite , must also be my loue : Then if my life or spending of my bloude May be employde to doe your highnesse good , Commaunde ( O Quéene ) commaund this carcasse here , In spite of death to satisfie thy will , So , though I die , yet shall my willing ghost Contentedly forsake this withered corps , For ioy to thinke I neuer shewde my selfe Ingratefull once to such a worthy Quéene . Ioca. Thou knowst what care my carefull father tooke , In wedlockes sacred state to settle me With Laius , king of this vnhappie Thebs , That most vnhappie now our Citie is : Thou knowst , how he , desirous still to searche The hidden secrets of supernall powers , Vnto Diuines did make his ofte recourse , Of them to learne when he should haue a sonne , That in his Realme might after him succéede : Of whom receiuing answere sharpe and sowre , That his owne sonne should worke his wailfull ende , The wretched king ( though all in vayne ) did séeke For to eschew that could not be eschewed : And so , forgetting lawes of natures loue , No sooner had this paynfull wombe brought foorth His eldest sonne to this desired light , But straight he chargde a trustie man of his To beare the childe into a desert wood , And leaue it there , for Tigers to deuoure . Ser. O lucklesse babe , begot in wofull houre . Ioc. His seruant thus obedient to his hest , Vp by the héeles did hang this faultlesse Impe , And percing with a knife his tender féete , Through both the wounds did drawe the slender twigs , Which being bound about his féeble limmes , Were strong inough to holde the little soule . Thus did he leaue this infant scarcely borne , That in short time must néedes haue lost his life , If destenie ( that for our greater gréefes Decréede before to kéepe it still aliue ) Had not vnto this childe sent present helpe : For so it chaunst , a shepheard passing by , With pitie moude , did stay his giltlesse death : He tooke him home , and gaue him to his wife , With homelie fare to féede and foster vp : Now harken how the heauens haue wrought the way To Laius death , and to mine owne decay . " Ser. Experience proues , and daily is it séene , " In vaine ( too vaine ) man striues against the heauens . Ioca. Not farre fro thence , the mightie Polibus , Of Corinth King , did kéepe his princely court , Vnto whose wofull wife ( lamenting muche Shée had no ofspring by hir noble phéere ) The curteous shepherd gaue my little sonne : Which gratefull gift , the Quéene did so accept , As nothing séemde more precious in hir sight : Partly , for that , his faitures were so fine , Partly , for that , he was so beautifull , And partly , for bicause his comely grace Gaue great suspicion of his royall bloude . The infant grewe , and many yeares was demde Polibus sonne , till time , that Oedipus ( For so he named was ) did vnderstande That Polibus was not his sire in déede , Whereby forsaking frendes and countrie there , He did returne to seeke his natiue stocke : And being come into Phocides lande , Toke notice of the cursed oracle , How first he shoulde his father doe to death , And then become his mothers wedded mate . Ser. O fierce aspect of cruell planets all , That can decrée such seas of heynous faultes . Ioca. Then Oedipus , fraight full of chilling feare , By all meanes sought t' auoyde this furious fate , But whiles he wéende to shunne the shameful déede , Vnluckly guided by his owne mishappe , He fell into the snare that most he feared : For loe , in Phocides did Laius lye , To ende the broyles that ciuill discorde then Had raysed vp in that vnquiet lande , By meanes whereof my wofull Oedipus , Affording ayde vnto the other side , With murdring blade vnwares his father slewe . Thus heauenly doome , thus fate , thus powers diuine , Thus wicked reade of Prophets tooke effect : Now onely restes to ende the bitter happe Of me , of me his miserable mother . Alas , how colde I féele the quaking bloud Passe too and fro within my trembling brest ? Oedipus , when this bloudy déede was doone , Forst foorth by fatall doome , to Thebes came , Where as full soone with glory he atchieude The crowne and scepter of this noble lande , By conquering Sphinx that cruell monster loe , That earst destroyde this goodly flouring soyle : And thus did I ( O hatefull thing to heare ) To my owne sonne become a wretched wife . Ser. No meruayle , though the golden Sunne withdrew His glittering beames from suche a sinfull facte . Ioca. And so by him that from this belly sprang , I brought to light ( O cursed that I am ) Aswell two sonnes , as daughters also twaine : But when this monstrous mariage was disclosde , So sore began the rage of boyling wrath To swell within the furious brest of him , As he him selfe by stresse of his owne nayles , Out of his head did teare his griefull eyne , Vnworthy more to sée the shining light . Ser. How could it be , that knowing he had done So foule a blot , he would remayne aliue ? " Ioca. So déepely faulteth none , the which vnwares " Doth fall into the crime he can not shunne : And he ( alas ) vnto his greater gréefe , Prolongs the date of his accursed dayes , Knowing that life doth more and more increase The cruell plages of his detested gilte , " Where stroke of griefly death dothe set an ende " Vnto the pangs of mans increasing payne . Ser. Of others all , moste cause haue we to mone Thy wofull smarte ( O miserable Quéene ) Such and so many are thy gréeuous harmes . Ioca. Now to the ende this blinde outrageous sire . Should reape no ioye of his vnnaturall fruite , His wretched sons , prickt foorth by furious spight , Adiudge their father to perpetuall prison : There buried in the depthe of dungeon darke , ( Alas ) he leades his discontented life , Accursing still his stony harted sonnes , And wishing all th' infernall sprites of hell , To breathe suche poysned hate into their brestes , As eche with other fall to bloudy warres , And so with pricking poynt of piercing blade , To rippe their bowels out , that eche of them With others bloud might strayne his giltie hands , And bothe at once by stroke of spéedie death Be foorthwith throwne into the Stigian lake . Ser. The mightie Gods preuent so fowle a déede , Ioca. They to auoyde the wicked blasphemies , And sinfull prayer of their angrie sire , Agréed thus , that of this noble realme , Vntill the course of one ful yere was runne , Eteocles should sway the kingly mace , And Polynice as exul should departe , Till time expyrde : and then to Polynice Eteocles should yéelde the scepter vp : Thus yere by yere the one succéeding other , This royall crowne should vnto bothe remayne . Ser. Oh th unbridled mindes of ambicious men . Ioca. Etocles thus plast in princely seate , Drunke with the sugred taste of kingly raigne , Not onely shut his brother from the crowne , But also from his natiue country soyle . Alas poore Polynice , what might he doe , Vniustly by his brother thus betrayed ? To Argos he , with sad and heauie cheere Forthwith conuayde him selfe , on whom at length With fauning face good fortune smyled so , As with Adrastus king of Argiues there , He founde such fauour and affinitie , As ( to restore my sonne vnto his raigne , ) He hath besiedge this noble citie Thebes , And hence procéedes my most extreme annoye : For , of my sonnes , who euer doe preuaile , The victorie will turne vnto my griefe : Alas , I feare ( such is the chaunce of warre ) That one , or both shall purchase death therby . Wherfore , to shunne the worst that may befall , Thoughe comfortlesse , yet as a pitifull mother Whom nature binds to loue hir louing sonnes , And to prouide the best for their auaile , I haue thought good by prayers to entreate The two brethren ( nay rather cruel foes ) A while to staie their fierce and furious fight , Till I haue tried by meanes for to apease The swelling wrath of their outraging willes , And so with much to doe , at my request They haue forborne vnto this onely houre . Ser. Small space good wot , to stint so great a strife . Ioca. And euen right now , a trustie man of mine , Returned from the campe , enforming me That Polynice will straight to Thebes come , Thus of my woe , this is the wailefull summe . And for bycause , in vaine and bootelesse plainte I haue small néede to spend this litle time , Here will I cease , in wordes more to be wray The restlesse state of my afflicted minde , Desiring thée , thou goe to Eteocles , Hartly on my behalfe beseching him , That out of hand according to his promise , He will vouchsafe to come vnto my courte , I know he loues thée well , and to thy wordes I thinke thou knowst he will giue willing eare . Ser. ( O noble Quéene ) sith vnto such affayres My spedie diligence is requisite , I will applie effectually to doe What so your highnesse hath commaunded me . Ioca. I will goe in , and pray the Gods therwhile , With tender pitie to appease my griefe . Iocasta goeth off the stage into hir pallace , hir foure handmaides follow hir , the foure Chorus also follow hir to the gates of hir pallace , after comming on the stage , take their place , where they continue to the end of the Tragedie . SERVVS SOLVS . " THe simple man , whose meruaile is so great " At stately courts , The courte liuely painted . and princes regall seate , " With gasing eye but onely doth regarde " The golden glosse that outwardly appeares , " The crownes bedeckt with pearle and precious stones , " The riche attire imbost with beaten golde , " The glittering mace , the pompe of swarming traine , " The mightie halles heapt full of flattering frendes , " The chambers huge , the goodly gorgeous beddes , " The gilted roofes embowde with curious worke , " The faces swéete of fine disdayning dames , " The vaine suppose of wanton raigne at luste : " But neuer viewes with eye of inward thought , " The painefull toile , the great and greuous cares , " The troubles still , the newe increasing feares , " That princes nourish in their iealous brestes : " He wayeth not the charge that Ioue hath laid " On princes , how for themselues they raigne not : " He wéenes , the law must stoope to princely will , " But princes frame their noble wills to lawe : " He knoweth not , that as the boystrous winde " Doth shake the toppes of highest reared towres , " So doth the force of frowarde fortune strike " The wight that highest sits in haughtie state . Lo Oedipus , that sometime raigned king Of Thebane soyle , that wonted to suppresse The mightest Prince , and kepe him vnder checke , That fearefull was vnto his forraine foes , Now like a poore afflicted prisoner , In dungeon darke , shut vp from chéerefull light , In euery part so plagued with annoy , As he abhorrs to leade a longer life , By meanes wherof , the one against the other His wrathfull sonnes haue planted all their force , And Thebes here , this auncient worthy towne , With threatning siege girt in on euerie side , In daunger lyes to be subuerted quite , If helpe of heuenly Ioue vpholde it not , But as darke night succedes the shining day , So lowring griefe comes after pleasant ioy . Well now the charge hir highnesse did commaund I must fulfill , though haply all in vaine . Seruus goeth off the stage by the gates called Electrae . Antygone attended with .iij. gentlewomen and hir gouernour commeth out of the Queene hir mothers Pallace . BAILO . ANTIGONE . O Gentle daughter of King Oedipus , O sister deare to that vnhappie wight Whom brothers rage hath reaued of his right , To whom , thou knowst , in yong and tender yeares I was a friend and faithfull gouenour , Come forth , sith that hir grace hath graunted leaue , And let me knowe what cause hath moued nowe So chaste a maide to set hir daintie foote Ouer the thresholde of hir secrete lodge ? Since that the towne is furnishte euery where With men of armes and warlike instrumentes , Vnto our eares there commes no other noyse , But sounde of trumpe , and neigh of trampling stedes , Which running vp and downe from place to place , With hideous cries betoken bloude and death : The blasing sunne ne shineth halfe so brighte , As it was wont to doe at dawne of day : The wretched dames throughout the wofull towne , Together clustring to the temples goe , Beseching Ioue by way of humble plainte , With tender ruthe to pitie their distresse . An. The loue I beare to my swéete Polynice , My deare brother , is onely cause hereof . Bai. Why daughter , knowst thou any remedie How to defend thy fathers citie here From that outrage and fierce repyning wrathe , Which he against it , iustly hath conceiued ? An. Oh gouernour might this my faultlesse bloude Suffise to stay my brethrens dyre debate , With glad content I coulde afford my life Betwixte them both to plant a perfect peace . But since ( alas ) I cannot as I woulde , A hote desire enflames my feruent mind To haue a sight of my swéete Polynice . Wherfore ( good guide ) vouchsafe to guide me vp Into some tower about this hugie court , From whence I may behold our enemies campe , Therby at least to féede my hungry eyes But with the sight of my beloued brother : Then if I die , contented shall I die . Bai. O princly dame , the tender care thou takste Of thy deare brother , deserueth double praise : Yet crau'st thou that , which cannot be obtainde , By reason of the distance from the towne Vnto the plaine , where th armie lies incampte : And furthermore , besemeth not a maide To shew hir selfe in such vnséemly place , Whereas among such yong and lustie troupes Of harebrainde souldiers marching to and fro , Both honest name and honour is empairde : But yet reioyce , sith this thy great desire , Without long let , or yet without thy paine , At wishe and will shortly may be fulfillde . For Polynice forthwith will hither come , Euen I my selfe was lately at the campe , Commaunded by the Quéene to bid him come , Who laboureth still to linke in frendly league , Hir iarring sonnes ( which happe so hoped for , Eftsones I pray the gracious gods to graunt ) And sure I am , that ere this hour passe , Thou shalt him here in person safely sée . Anti. O louing frend , doest thou then warrant me , That Polynice will come vnto this court ? Bai. Ere thou he ware thou shalt him here beholde . Anti. And who ( alas ) doth warrant his aduenture , That of Eteocles he take no harme ? Bai. For constant pledge , he hath his brothers faith , He hath also the truce that yet endures . An. I feare alas , alas I greatly feare , Some trustlesse snare his cruell brother layes To trappe him in . Bai. Daughter , god knowes how willing I would be With swéete reliefe to comforte thy distresse , But I cannot impart to thée , the good Which I my selfe doe not as yet enioye . The wailefull cause that moues Eteocles With Polynice to enter ciuil warres Is ouergreat , and for this onely cause Full many men haue broke the lawes of truth , And topsie turuie turned many townes , " To gredie ( daughter ) too too gredie is " Desire to rule and raigne in kingly state . Ne can he bide , that swaise a realme alone To haue another ioynde with him therin : Yet must we hope for helpe of heauenly powers , Sith they be iuste , their mercy is at hand , To helpe the weake when worldly force doth faile . An. As both my brethren be , so both I beare As much good will as any sister may , But yet the wrong that vnto Polynice This trothlesse tyrant hath vniustlie shewd , Doth lead me more , to wishe the prosperous life Of Polynice , than of that cruell wretch , Besides that , Polynice whiles he remainde In Thebes here , did euer loue me more , Than did Eteocles , whose swelling hate Is towards me increased more and more : Wherof I partely may assure my selfe , Considering he disdaynes to visite me , Yea , happly he intends to reaue my life , And hauing power he will not sticke to doe it . This therefore makes me earnestly desire Oft tymes to see him : yet euer as I thinke For to discharge the duetie of a sister , The feare I haue of hurt , doth chaunge as fast My doubtfull loue into disdainefull spight . Bai. Yet daughter , must ye trust in mightie Ioue , His will is not , that for th offence of one So many suffer vndeserued smarte : I meane of thée , I meane of Polynice , Of Iocasta thy wofull aged mother , And of Ismena thy beloued sister , Who though for this she doth not outwardly For drearie eyen distill lamenting teares , Yet do I thinke , no lesse aflicting griefe Doth inwardly torment hir tender brest . An. Besides all this , a certaine ielousie , Lately conceyude ( I know not whence it springs ) Of Creon , my mothers brother , appaules me much , Him doubt I more than any danger else . Bai. Deare daughter , leaue this foolishe ielousie , And séeing that thou shalt héere shortly finde Thy brother Polynice , go in agayne . An. O ioyfull would it be to me therwhile , To vnderstande the order of the hoste , Whether it be such as haue sufficient power To ouerthrowe this mightie towne of Thebes . What place supplies my brother Polynice ? Where founde ye him ? what answere did he giue ? And though so great a care perteineth not Vnto a mayde of my vnskill yeres , Yet , forbicause my selfe partaker am Of good and euill with this my countrey soyle , I long to heare thée tell those fearefull newes , Which otherwise I cannot vnderstand . Bai. So noble a desire ( O worthy dame ) I much commende : and briefly as I can , Will satisfie thy hungry minde herein . The power of men that Polynice hath brought , ( Wherof he , ( being Adrastus sonne in lawe ) Takes chiefest charge ) is euen the floure of Grece , Whose hugie traine so mightie séemes to be , As I sée not , how this our drouping towne Is able to withstand so strong a siege . Entring the fielde their armie did I finde So orderly in forme of battaile set , As though they would forthwith haue giuen the charge : In battailes seauen the host deuided is , To eche of which , by order of the king , A valiant knight for captaine is assignde : And as you know this citie hath seuen gates , So euerie captaine hath his gate prescribde , With fierce assault to make his entrie at . And further , passing through our frouning foes ( That gaue me countnaunce of a messanger ) Harde by the King I spied Polynice , In golden glistring armes most richely cladde , Whose person many a stately prince enpalde , And many a comely crowned head enclosde : At sight of me his colour straight he chaungde , And like a louing childe , in clasped armes He caught me vp , and frendly kist my cheke , Then hearing what his mother did demaunde With glad consent according to hir hest Gaue me his hand , to come vnto the court , Of mutuall truce desirous so he séemde , He askt me of Antygone and Ismena , But chiefelie vnto thée aboue the rest He gaue me charge most heartly to commend him . An. The gods giue grace he may at length possesse His kingly right , and I his wished sight . Bai. Daughter no more , t' is time ye nowe returne : It standes not with the honor of your state Thus to be seene suspiciously abrode : " For vulgar tongues are armed euermore " With slaunderous brute to bleamishe the renoume " Of vertues dames , which though at first it spring " Of slender cause , yet doth it swell so fast , A glasse for yong women . " As in short space it filleth euerie eare " With swifte reporte of vndeserued blame : " You cannot be to curious of your name : " Fond shewe of euill ( though still the minde be chast ) " Decayes the credite oft , that Ladies had , " Sometimes the place presumes a wanton mynde : " Repayre sometymes of some , doth hurt their honor : " Sometimes the light and garishe proude attire " Persuades a yelding bent of pleasing youthes . The voyce that goeth of your vnspotted fame , Is like a tender floure , that with the blast Of euerie litle winde doth fade away . Goe in déere childe , this way will I goe sée If I can méete thy brother Polynice . Antigone with hir maides returneth into hir mothers pallace , hir gouernour goeth out by the gates Homoloydes . CHORVS . IF gréedie lust of mans ambitious eye ( That thristeth so for swaye of earthly things ) Would eke foresee , what mischefes growe therby , What carefull toyle to quiet state it brings , What endlesse griefe from such a fountaine springs : Then should he swimme in seas of swéete delight , That nowe complaines of fortunes cruell spight . For then he would so safely shielde himselfe With sacred rules of wisdomes sage aduise , As no alluring trayne of trustles pelfe , To fonde affectes his fancie should entise , Then warie héede would quickly make him wise : Where contrary ( such is our skillesse kind ) We most doe séeke , that most may hurt the minde . Amid the troupe of these vnstable toyes , Some fancies loe to beautie must be bent , Some hunt for wealth , and some set all their ioyes , In regall power of princely gouernement , Yet none of these from care are cleane exempt : For either they be got with grieuous toyle , Or in the end forgone with shamefull foyle . This flitting world doth firmely nought retaine , Wherin a man may boldly rest his trust , Such fickle chaunce in fortune doth remaine , As when she lust , she threatneth whom she lust , From high renoume to throwe him in the dust : Thus may we sée that eche triumphing ioye By fortunes froune is turned to annoye . Those elder heades may well be thought to erre , The which for easie life and quiet dayes , The vulgar sorte would séeme for to preferre , If glorious Phoebe with-holde his glistring rayes , From such a péere as crowne and scepter swayes , No meruaile though he hide his heauenly face , From vs that come of lesse renoumed race . Selde shall you sée the ruine of a Prince , Argumentum â maiore . But that the people eke like brunt doe beare , And olde recordes of auncient time long since , From age to age , yea almost euerie where , With proofe herof hath glutted euery eare : Thus by the follies of the princes hart , The bounden subiect still receiueth smart . Loe , how vnbrideled lust of priuat raigne , Hath pricked both the brethren vnto warre : Yet Polynice , with signe of lesse disdaine , Against this lande hath brought from countries farre , A forraine power , to end this cruell iarre , Forgetting quite the dutie , loue , and zeale , He ought to beare vnto this common weale . But whosoeuer gets the victorie , We wretched dames , and thou O noble towne , Shall féele therof the wofull miserie , Thy gorgeous pompe , thy glorious high renoume , Thy stately towers , and all shal fall a downe , Sith raging Mars will eache of them assist In others brest to bathe his bloudie fist . But thou Bacchus . O sonne of Semel , and of Ioue , ( That tamde the proude attempt of giaunts strong ) Doe thou defende , euen of thy tender loue , Bacchus was the God whom they most honored in Thebes . Thy humble thralls from this afflicting wrong , Whom wast of warre hath now tormented long : So shall we neuer faile ne day ne night With reuerence due thy prayses to resight . Finis Actus primi . Done by F. Kinwelmarshe .

The order of the second dumbe shewe .

BEfore the beginning of this seconde Acte dyd sound a very dolefull noise of flutes : during the which there came in vpon the stage two coffines couered with hearclothes , & brought in by .viij. in mourning weed : & accompanied with .viij. other mourners : & after they had caried the coffins about the stage , there opened & appeared a Graue , wherin they buried the coffins & put fire to them : but the flames did seuer & parte in twaine , signifying discord by the history of two brethren , whose discord in their life was not onely to be wondred at , but being buried both in one Tombe ( as some writers affirme ) the flames of their funeralls did yet parte the one from the other in like maner , and would in no wise ioyne into one flame . After the Funerals were ended & the fire consumed , the graue was closed vp again , the mourners withdrew them off the stage , & immediately by the gates Homoloydes entred Pollinyces accompanied with vj. gentlemen and a page that carried his helmet and Target : he & his men vnarmed sauing their gorgets , for that they were permitted to come into the towne in time of truce , to the end Iocasta might bring the two brethren to a parle : and Pollinyces after good regard taken round about him , speake as foloweth .

Actus . 2.

Scena . 1. POLINICES . CHORVS . IOCASTA . ETEOCLES . LOe here mine owne citie and natiue soyle , Loe here the nest I ought to nestle in , Yet being thus entrencht with mine owne towres , And that , from him the safeconduct is giuen Which doth enioye as much as mine should be , My féete can treade no step without suspect : For where my brother bides , euen there behoues More warie scout than in an enmies campe . Yet while I may wthin this right hand holde This Neuer . bronde , this blade , ( vnyelden euer yet ) My life shall not be lefte without reuenge . But here beholde the holy sancturie , Of Baccus eke the worthie Image , loe The aultars where the sacred flames haue shone , And where of yore these giltlesse hands of mine Full oft haue offered to our mightie gods : I sée also a worthie companie Of Thebane dames , resembling vnto me The traine of Iocasta my deare mother : Beholde them clad in clothes of griesly blacke , That hellishe hewe that Sworde . nay for other harmes So well besemed wretched wightes to weare : For why , ere long their selues , themselues shall sée ( Gramercy to their princes tyrannie ) Some spoyled of their swéete and sucking babes , Some lese their husband , other some their sire , And some their friends that were to them full dere . But now t is time to lay the sworde aside . And eke of them to knowe where is the Quéene : O woorthie dames , heauie , vnhappie ye , Where resteth now the restlesse quéene of Thebes ? Chor. O woorthie impe sprong out of worthie race , Renoumed Prince , whom wée haue lookt for long , And nowe in happie houre arte come to vs , Some quiet bring to this vnquiet realme . O quéene , O quéene , come foorth and sée thy sonne , The gentle frute of all thy ioyfull séede . Iocast . My faithfull frends , my deare beloued maydes , I come at call , and at your wordes I moue My féebled féete with age and agonie : Where is my sonne ? O tell me where is he , For whome I sighed haue so often syth , For whom I spende both nightes and dayes in teares ? Poli. Here noble mother , here , not as the king , Nor as a Citizen of stately Thebes , But as a straunger nowe , I thanke my brother . Iocast . O sonne , O swéete and my desyred sonne , These eyes they sée , these handes of myne thée touche , Yet scarsly can this mynde beléeue the same , And scarsly can this brused breast susteyne The sodeyne ioye that is inclosde therein : O gladsome glasse , wherein I sée my selfe . Chor. So graunt the Gods , for our common good , You frendly may your sonnes both frendes beholde . Iocast . At thy departe , O louely chylde , thou lefte My house in teares , and mée thy wretched dame , Myrrour of martirdome , Lamenting . waymenting still Th' vnworthie exile thy brother to thée gaue : Ne was there euer sonne or friende farre off , Of his deare frendes or mother so desyred , As thy returne , in all the towne of Thebes . And of my selfe more than the rest to speake , I haue as thou mayste sée , cleane cast asyde My princely roabes , and thus in wofull wéede , Bewrapped haue these lustlesse limmes of myne : Naught else but teares haue trickled from myne eyes , And eke thy wretched blynde and aged syre , Since first he hearde what warre twéene you there was , As one that did his bitter cursse repent , Or that he prayed to Ioue for your decaye , With stretching string , or else with bloudie knyfe Hath sought full ofte to ende his loathed lyfe . Thou this meane whyle my sonne , hast lingred long In farre and forreyn coastes , and wedded eke , By whome thou mayste , ( when heauens appoyntes it so ) Straunge issue haue by one a stranger borne , Whiche greeues me sore , and much the more deare chylde , Bicause I was not present at the same , There to performe thy louing mothers due . But for I fynde thy noble matche so méete , And woorthie bothe for thy degrée and byrthe , I séeke to comforte thée by myne aduise , That thou returne this citie to inhabite , Whiche best of all may séeme to be the bowre , Bothe for thy selfe and for thy noble spouse . Forget thou then thy brothers iniuries , And knowe deare chylde , the harme of all missehap That happes twixt you , must happe likewise to mée : Ne can the cruell sworde so slightly touche Your tender fleshe , but that the selfe same wounde Shall déepely bruse this aged brest of myne . Cho. " There is no loue may be comparde to that , " The tender mother beares vnto hir chyld : " For euen somuche the more it dothe encrease , " As their griefe growes , or contentations cease . Poli. I knowe not mother , if I prayse deserue , ( That you to please , whome I ought not displease ) Haue traynde my selfe among my trustlesse foes : But Nature drawes ( whether he will or nill ) Eche man to loue his natiue countrey soyle : And who shoulde say , that otherwise it were , His toung should neuer with his hearte agrée . This hath me drawne besyde my bounden due , To set full light this lucklesse lyfe of myne : For of my brother , what may I else hope , But traynes of treason , force and falshoode bothe ? Yet neyther perill present , nor to come , Can holde me from my due obedience : I graunte I can not grieflesse , wel beholde My fathers pallace , the holie aultars , Ne louely lodge wherin I fostred was : From whence driuen out , and chaste vnworthily , I haue to long aboade in forreyn coastes : And as the growing gréene and pleasant plante , Dothe beare freshe braunches one aboue another , Euen so amidde the huge heape of my woes , Doth growe one grudge more gréeuous than the rest , To sée my deare and dolefull mother , cladde In mourning tyre , to tyre hir mourning minde , Wretched alonely for my wretchednesse , So lykes that enimie my brother best : Soone shall you sée that in this wandring worlde , No enmitie is equall vnto that That dark disdayne ( the cause of euery euill ) Dooth bréede full ofte in consanguinitie . But Ioue , he knowes what dole I doe endure , For you and for my fathers wretched woe , And eke how déepely I desire to knowe What wearie lyfe my louing sisters leade , And what anoye myne absence them hath giuen . Iocast . Alas , alas , howe wrekefull wrath of Gods Doth still afflicte Oedipus progenie : The fyrste cause was thy fathers wicked bedde , And then ( oh why doe I my plagues recompte ? ) My burden borne , and your vnhappie birth : " But néedes we must with pacient heartes abyde , " What so from high the heauens doe prouide . With thée my chylde , fayne would I question yet Of certaine things me woulde I that my wordes Might thée anoye , ne yet renewe thy griefe . Poli. Saye on , deare mother , say what so you please : What pleaseth you , shall neuer mée disease . Iocast . And séemes it not a heauie happe my sonne , To be depriued of thy countrey coastes ? Poly. So heauie happe as toung can not expresse . Iocast . And what may moste molest the mynde Exile an exceding griefe to an honest mynde . of man This is exiled from his natiue soyle ? Poli. The libertie hée with his countrey loste , " And that he lacketh fréedome for to speake , " What séemeth best , without controll or checke . Iocast . Why so ? eche seruant lacketh libertie To speake his minde , without his maisters leaue . Poli. " In exile , All exyles are like bondmen . euery man , or bonde or free , " Of noble race , or meaner parentage , " Is not in this vnlike vnto the slaue , " That muste of force obey to eche mans will , " And prayse the péeuishnesse of eche mans pryde . Iocast . And séemed this so grieuous vnto thée ? Poli. What griefe can greater be , than so constraynde Slauelike to serue gaynst right and reason bothe , Yea muche the more , to him that noble is , By stately lyne , or yet by vertuous lyfe , And hath a heart lyke to his noble mynde . Iocast . What helpeth moste in suche aduersitie ? Poli. Hope helpeth moste to comfort miserie . Hope the help in miserye . Ioca. Hope to returne from whence he fyrst was driuen ? Poli. Yea , hope that happeneth oftentymes to late , And many die before such hap may fall . Iocast . And howe didst thou before thy mariage sonne , Mainteyne thy lyfe , a straunger so bestad ? Poli. Sometyme I founde ( though seldome so it were ) Some gentle heart , that coulde for curtesye , Contente himselfe to succour myne estate . Iocast . Thy fathers friends and thyne , did they not helpe For to reléeue that naked néede of thyne ? Poli. " Mother , he hath a foolishe fantasie , " That thinkes to fynd a frende in miserie . Fuw frends in miserye . Iocast . Thou mightest haue helpe by thy nobilitie . Poli. " Couered alas , in cloake of pouertie ? Iocast . " Wel ought we then that are but mortall héere , " Aboue all treasure counte our countrey deare : Yea let me knowe my sonne , what cause thée moued To goe to Grece ? Poli. The flying fame that thundred in myne eares , How king Adrastus , gouernour of Greece , Was answered by Oracle , that he Shoulde knitte in linkes of lawfull mariage , His two faire daughters , and his onely heires , One to a Lyon , th' other to a Boare : An answere suche as eche man wondred at . Iocast . And how belongs this answere now to thée ? Poli. I toke my gesse euen by this ensigne héere , A Lyon loe , which I did alwayes beare : Yet thinke I not , but Ioue alonely brought These handes of myne to suche an high exploite . Iocast . And howe yet came it to this straunge effect ? Poli. The shining day had runne his hasted course , And deawie night bespread hir mantell darke , When I that wandred after wearie toyle , To seke some harbrough for myne irked limmes , Gan fynde at last a little cabbin , close Adioyned faste vnto the stately walles , Where king Adrastus held his royall towres . Scarce was I there in quiet well ycought , Smal causes may moue the needy to contend . But thither came another exile eke , Named Tydeus , who straue perforce to driue Mée from this sorie seate , and so at laste , We settled vs to fell and bloudie fight , Whereof the rumour grewe so great foorthwith , That straight the king enformed was therof , Who séeing then the ensignes that wée bare , To be euen such as were to him foresayde , Chose eche of vs to be his sonne by lawe , And sithens did solemnize eke the same . Iocast . Yet woulde I know , if that thy wyfe be suche As thou canst ioy in hir ? or what she is ? Pyli . O mother deare , fayrer ne wyser dame Is none in Greece , Argia is hir name . Iocast . Howe couldst thou to this doubtfull enterprise , So many bring , thus armed all at once ? Poli. Adrastus sware , that he woulde soone restore Vnto our right both Tydeus , and me : And fyrst for mée , that had the greater néede , Whereby the best and boldest blouds in Greece , Haue followed me vnto this enterpryse . A thing both iust and grieuous vnto me , Gréeuous I saye , for that I doe lament To be constrayned by such open wrong , To warre agaynst myne owne deare countrey féeres . But vnto you ( O mother ) dothe pertain To stinte this stryfe , and both deliuer mée From exile now , and eke the towne from siege : For otherwise , I sweare you here by heauens , Eteocles , who now doth me disdayne For brother , shortly shall sée me his lorde ▪ I aske the seate , wherof I ought of right Possesse the halfe , I am Oedipus sonne , And yours , so am I true sonne to you both . Wherfore I hope that as in my defence , The worlde will weygh , so Ioue wil me assiste . Eteocles commeth in here by the gates Electrae , himself armed , and before him .xx. gentlemen in armour , his two pages , wherof the one beareth his Target , the other his helme . Chor. Beholde O quéene , beholde O woorthie quéene , The dames did loue Polynice and hate Eteocles . Vnwoorthie he , Eteocles here commes , So , woulde the Gods , that in this noble realme Shoulde neuer long vnnoble tyrant reigne , Or that with wrong the right and doutlesse heire , Shoulde banisht be out of his princely seate . Yet thou O quéene , so fyle thy sugred toung . And with such counsell decke thy mothers tale , That peace may both the brothers hartes inflame , And rancour yelde , that erst possesse the same . Eteocl. Mother , beholde , your hestes for to obey , In person nowe am I resorted hither : In haste therefore , fayne woulde I knowe what cause With hastie spéede , so moued hath your minde To call me nowe so causelesse out of time , When common wealth moste craues my onely ayde : Fayne woulde I knowe what quent commoditie Perswades you thus to take a truce for tyme , And yeld the gates wide open to my foe , The gates that myght our stately state defende , And now are made the path of our decay . Ioca. " Represse deare son , those raging stormes of wrath , " That so bedimme the eyes of thine intent , " As when the tongue ( a redy Instrument ) " Would fayne pronounce the meaning of the minde , " It cannot speake one honest séemely worde . " But when disdayne is shrunke , or sette asyde , " And mynde of man with leysure can discourse " What séemely wordes his tale may best beséeme , " And that the toung vnfoldes without affectes " Then may procéede an answere sage and graue , " And euery sentence sawst with sobernesse : Wherefore vnbende thine angrie browes deare childe , And caste thy rolling eyes none other waye , One of the furies . That here doest not Medusaes ( a ) face beholde , But him , euen him , thy bloud and brother deare . And thou behold , my Polinices eke , Thy brothers face , wherein when thou mayst sée Thine owne image , remember therewithall , That what offence thou wouldst to him were done , The blowes thereof rebounde vnto thy selfe . And hereof eke , I would you both forewarne , When frendes or brethren , kinsfolke or allies , ( Whose hastie hearts some angrie moode had moued ) Be face to face by some of pitie brought , Who seekes to ende their discorde and debate : Rehersall of olde grudges do● h●●der al reconcilition . They onely ought consider well the cause For which they come , and cast out of their minde For euermore the olde offences past : So shall swéete peace driue pleading out of place . Wherfore the first shall Polinices be , To tell what reason first his minde did rule , That thus our walles with forrein foes enclosde In sharpe reuenge of causelesse wronge receiu'd , As he alledgeth by his brothers doome : And of this wicked woe and dire (b) (b) Cruell or vengeable . debate , Some God of pitie be the equall iudge , Whome I beseeche , to breath in both your breasts A yelding heart to deepe desire of peace . Poli. Truth pleadeth simply when falssehood vseth eloquence . " My woorthie dame , I finde that tried truthe " Doth beste beseeme a simple naked tale , " Ne néedes to be with painted proces prickt , " That in hir selfe hath no diuersitie , " But alwayes shewes one vndisguised face , " Where déepe deceipt and lies must séeke the shade , " And wrap their wordes in guilefull eloquence , " As euer fraught with contrarietie : So haue I often sayde , and say againe , That to auoide our fathers foule reproche And bitter curse , I parted from this lande With right good will , yet thus with him agréed , That while the whirling wings of flying time Might roll one yeare aboute the heauenly spheare , So long alone he might with peace possesse Our fathers seate in princely (c) (c) Crown 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Diademe , And when the yeare should eke his course renue , Might I succeede to rule againe as long . And that this lawe might still be kept for aye , He bound him selfe by vowe of solemne othe By Gods , by men , by heauen , and eke by earth : Yet that forgot , without all reuerence Vnto the Gods , without respect to right , Without respect that reason ought to rule , His faith and troth both troden vnder foote , He still vsurps most tyrantlike with wrong The right that doth of right to me belong . But if he can with equall doome consent , That I retourne into my natiue soyle To sway with him alike the kingly seate And euenly beare the bridle both in hand , Deare mother mine I sweare by all the Gods To raise with speede the siege from these our walles , And send the souldiers home from whence they came : Which if he graunt me not , then must I do ( Though loth ) as much as right and reason would , To venge my cause that is both good and iust . Yet this in heauen the Gods my records be , And here in earth each mortall man may know , That neuer yet my giltlesse heart did fayle Brotherly duetie to Eteocles , And that causlesse he holdes me from mine owne . Thus haue I said O mother , euen as much As néedefull is , wherein I me assure : That in the iudgement both of good and badde , My words may séeme of reason to procéede , Constrained thus in my defence to speake . Chor. None may denie , O pere of princely race , But that thy words , are honest , good and iust , And such as well beséeme that tong of thine . Eteo. " If what to some séemes honest good and iust , Sundrye men sundry minds . " Could séeme euen so in euery doubtfull mind , " No darke debate nor quarell could arise : " But looke , how many men so many minds , " And that , that one man iudgeth good and iust , " Some other déemes as déepely to be wrong . To say the truth ( mother ) this minde of mine Doth fléete full farre from that farfetch of his , Ne will I longer couer my conceit : If I could rule or reigne in heauen aboue , And eke commaund in depth of darksome hell , No toile ne trauell should my sprites abashe , To take the way vnto my restlesse will , To climbe aloft , nor downe for to descend . Then thinke you not , that I can giue consent To yeld a part of my possession , Wherin I liue and lead the Onely rule . monarchie . " A witlesse foole may euery man him gesse , " That leaues the more and takes him to the lesse . With this , reproch might to my name redound , If he , that hath with forren power spoilde Our pleasaunt fields , might reaue from me perforce , What so he list by force of armes demand . No lesse reproofe the citizens ensewes , If I , for dread of Gréekish hosts , should graunt That he might climbe to heigth of his desire . In fine , he ought not thus of me to craue Accord , or peace , with bloudy sword in hand , But with humilitie and prayer both , For often is it séene , and proofe doth teach , " Swete words preuaile , where sword and fire do faile . Yet this , if here within these stately walles He list to liue , the sonne of Oedipus , And not as king of Thebes , I stand content . But let him thinke , since now I can commaunde , This necke of mine shall neuer yeld to yoke Of seruitude : let bring his banners splayde , Let speare and shield , sharpe sworde , and cyndring flames Procure the parte that he so vainely claimes : As long as life within this brest doth last , I nill Wil not . consent that he should reigne with me . If lawe of right may any way be broke , " Desire of rule within a climbing brest " To breake a vow may beare the buckler best . Cho. " Who once hath past the bounds of honestie Tullyes opinyon . " In ernest déedes , may passe it well in words . Ioca. O sonne , amongst so many miseries This benefite hath croked age , I find , That as the tracke of trustlesse time hath taught , " It séeth much , and many things discernes , Youth seeth not so much as age . " Which recklesse youth can neuer rightly iudge , Oh , cast aside that vaine ambition , That corosiue , that cruell pestilence , That most infects the minds of mortall men : " In princely palace and in stately townes Ambition doth destroye al : equalytte doth maynteyne al things . " It crepeth ofte , and close with it conuayes , " ( To leaue behind it ) damage and decayes : " By it be loue and amitie destroyde , " It breakes the lawes and common concord beates , " Kingdomes and realmes it topsie turuie turnes , And now , euen thée , hir gall so poisoned hath , That the weake eies of thine affection Are blinded quite , and sée not to them selfe But worthy childe , driue from thy doubtfull brest This monstrous mate , in steade wherof embrace " Equalitie , which stately states defends " And binds the minde with true and trustie knots " Of frendly faith which neuer can be broke , " This man , of right should properly possesse , And who that other doth the more embrace , Shall purchase paine to be his iust reward By wrathfull wo , or else by cruell death . " This , first deuided all by equall bonds " What so the earth did yeld for our auaile ? " This , did deuide the nightes and dayes alike , " And that the vaile of darke and dreadfull night ) " ( Which shrowds in misty clouds the pleasaunt light , " Ne yet the golden beames of Phoebus rayes " ( Which cleares the dimmed ayre with gladsome gleams ) " Can yet heape hate in either of them both . If then the dayes and nightes to serue our turne Content themselues to yeld each other place , Well oughtest thou with waightie dome to graunt Thy brothers right to rule the reigne with thée , Which heauens ordeyned common to you both : If so thou nill O sonne , O cruell sonne , If the head be euill the body cannot be good . " In whose high brest may iustice builde hir houre " When princes harts wide open lye to wrong ? Why likes thée so the tipe of tyrannie With others losse to gather gréedy gaine ? " Alas how farre he wanders from the truth " That compts a pompe , all other to command , " Yet can not rule his owne vnbridled will , " A vaine desire much riches to possesse " Whereby the brest is brusde and battered still , " With dread , with daunger , care and cold suspecte . " Who séekes to haue the thing we call inough , " Acquainte him first with contentation , Content to riche " For plenteousnesse is but a naked name . " And what suffiseth vse of mortall men , " Shall best apay the meane and modest hearts . " These hoorded heapes of golde and worldly wealth " Are not the proper goods of any one , " But pawnes which Ioue powres out aboundantly Riches are but borowed ware . " That we likewise might vse them equally , " And as he seemes to lend them for a time , " Euen so in time he takes them home agayne , " And would that we acknowledge euery houre , " That from his handes we did the same receiue : " There nothing is so firme and stayde to man , " But whyrles about with whéeles of restlesse time . Now if I should this one thing thée demaunde , Which of these two thou wouldest chuse to kéepe , The towne quiet or vnquiet tyrannie ? And wouldest thou say I chuse my kingly chayre ? O witlesse answere sent from wicked heart , For if so fall ( which mightie God defende ) Thine enimies hand should ouercome thy might , And thou shouldest sée them sacke the towne of Thebes , The chastest virgins rauished for wrecke , More care to loose than plesure to posses . The worthy children in captiuitie , " Then shouldest thou féele that scepter , crowne , & wealth " Yéelde deeper care to sée them tane away , " Than to possesse them yeldeth déepe content . Now to conclude my sonne , Ambition Is it that most offends thy blynded thought , Blame not thy brother , blame ambition From whome if so thou not redéeme thy selfe , I feare to sée thée buy repentance deare . Cho. Yea deare , too deare when it shal come too late . Ioc. And now to thée my Polinices deare , I say that sillie was Adrastus reade , And thou God knowes a simple sillie soule , He to be ruled by thy heady wil , And thou , to warre against the Thebane walls , These walls I say whose gates thy selfe should garde : Tell me I pray thée , if the Citie yéelde , Or thou it take by force in bloudie fight , ( Which neuer graunt the Gods I them beséeke ) What spoyles ? what Palmes ? what signe of victorie Small glory for a rebel to see his owne countrey spoyled . Canst thou set vp to haue thy countrie woonne ? What title worthie of immortall fame , Shall blased be in honor of thy name ? O sonne , deare sonne , beléeue thy trustie dame , The name of glorie shall thy name refuse , And flie full farre from all thy fonde attemptes . But if so fall thou shouldst be ouercome , Then with what face canst thou returne to Greece , That here hast lefte so many Greekes on grounde ▪ Eache one shall curse and blame thée to thy face , As him that onely caused their decaye , And eke condemne Adrastus simple heade , That such a phéere had chosen for his childe . So may it fall , in one accursed houre , That thou mayst loose thy wife and countrie both , Both which thou mayst with little toyle attaine , If thou canst leaue high minde and darke disdaine . Cho. O mightie Gods of goodnesse , neuer graunt Vnto these euilles , but set desired peace Betwene the hearts of these two friendly foes . Ete. The question that betwixt vs two is growen , Beléeue me mother , can not ende with words : You waste your breath , and I but loose my time , And all your trauell lost and spent in vaine : For this I sweare , that peace you neuer get Betwéene vs two , but with condition , That whilst I liue , I will be Lord of Thebes . Then set aside these vaine forwasted wordes , And yéelde me leaue to go where néede doth presse : And now good sir , get you out of these walles , Vnlesse you meane to buy abode with bloude . Po. And who is he that séekes to haue my bloude , And shall not shed his owne as fast as myne ? Ete. By thée he standes , and thou standst him before : Loe here the sworde that shall perfourme his worde . Po. And this shall eke mainteine my rightfull cause . Ioc. O sonnes , dear sonnes , away with glittring armes : And first , before you touch eache others flesh , With doubled blowes come pierce this brest of mine . Po. Ah wretch , thou art both vile and cowarde like , Thy high estate esteemes thy life to deare . Ete. If with a wretch or coward shouldst thou fighte , Oh dastard villaine , what first moued thée With swarmes of Gréekes to take this enterprise ? Po. For well I wist , that cankred heart of thine Coulde safely kepe thy heade within these walles , And flée the fielde when combate should be callde . Ete. This truce assureth thée Polynices , And makes thée bolde to giue such bosting wordes : So be thou sure , that had this truce not bene , Then long erethis , these handes had bene embrude , And eke this soyle besprinkled with thy bloude . Po. Not one small drop of my bloude shalt thou spill , But buy it deare against thy cankred will . Ioc. O sonnes , my sonnes , for pittie yet refrayne . Ch. Good Gods , who euer sawe so strange a sight ? True loue and frindship both be put to flight . Po. Yelde villein , yelde my right which thou witholdst . Ete. Cut of thy hope to reigne in Thebane walles , Nought hast thou here , nor nought shal euer haue , Away . Po. O aultars of my countrie soyle . Ete. Whome thou art come to spoyle and to deface . Po. O Gods , giue eare vnto my honest cause . Ete. With forreine power his countrie to inuade . Po. O holy temples of the heauenly Gods. Ete. That for thy wicked déedes do hate thy name Po. Out of my kingdome am I driuen by force . Ete. Out of the which thou camst me for to driue . Po. Punish O Gods this wicked tyrant here . Ete. Pray to the Gods in Greece and not in Thebes . Po. No sauage beast so cruell nor vniust . Ete. Not cruel to my countrie like to thée . Po. Since from my right I am with wrong depriued . Ete. Eke from thy life if long thou tarie here . Po. O father heare what iniuries I take . Ete. As though thy diuelishe déedes were hid from him . Po. And you mother . Eteo. Haue done thou not deseruest With that false tong thy mother once to name . Po. O deare Citie . Eteo. When thou ariuest in Greece , Chuse out thy dwelling in some mustie Moores . Po. I must departe , and parting must I prayse Oh deare mother the depth of your good will . Ioc. O sonne . Eteo. Away I say out of these walls . Po. I can not chuse but must thy will obey , Yet graunt me once my father for to sée . Ete. I heare no prayers of my enemie . Po. Where be my swéete sisters ? Eteo. And canst thou yet With shamelesse tong once name thy noble race That art become a common foe to Thebes ? Be sure thou shall them neuer sée againe , Nor other friend that in these walls remaine . Po. Rest you in peace , O worthy mother myne . Ioc. Howe can that be and thou my ioye in warre ? Po. Hence forth n'am I your ioyne yet your sonne . Ioc. Alas the heauens me whelme with all mishap . Po. Lo here the cause that stirreth me by wrong . Ete. Much more is that he profereth vnto me . Po. Well , speake , darest thou come armed to the fielde ? Ete. So dare I come , wherfore dost thou demaunde ? Po. For néeds or thou must ende this life of mine , Or quenche my thirst with pouring out thy bloud . Eteo. Ah wretch , my thirst is all as drie as thine . Ioc. Alas and welaway , what heare I sonnes ? How can it be ? deare children can it be That brethrens heartes such rancour should enrage ? Eteo. And that right soone the proofe shall playnely shew . Io. Oh say not so , yet say not so deare sonnes . Po. O royall race of Thebes now take thine ende . Cho. God shield . Eteo. O slow & sluggish heart of mine , Why do I stay t'embrew these slothfull hands ? But for his greater griefe I will departe , And at returne if here I finde my foe , This hastie hande shall ende our hote debate . Eteocles here goeth out by the gates Electrae . Po. Deare Citizens , and you eternall Gods , Beare witnesse with me here before the worlde , How this my fierce and cruell enimie , Whom causelesse now my brother I do call , With threates of death my lingring steps doth driue Both from my right and from my countrey soyle , Not as beséemes the sonne of Oedipus , But as a slaue , an abiect , or a wretche : And since you be both pitifull and iuste , Vouchsafe O Gods , that as I part with griefe , So may I yet returne with ioyfull spoyle Of this accursed tyraunt and ( he slayne ) I may recouer quietly mine owne . Polynice goeth out by the gates Homoloides . Io. O wretched wretch Iocasta , wher is founde The miserie that may compare to thine ? O would I had nor gasing eyes to sée , Nor listning eares to heare that now I dread : But what remaines , saue onely to entreate That cruell dole wold yet so curteous be To reaue the breath out of this wofull brest , Before I harken to some wofull newes . Rest you here dames , and pray vnto the Gods For our redresse , and I in that meane while Will shut my selfe from sight of lothsome light . Iocasta goeth into hir Pallace . Cho. O mightie God , the gouernour of Thebes Pitie with spéede the payne Iocasta bydes , And eke our néedes O mightie Bacchus helpe , Bende willing eare vnto our iust complaint : Leaue them not comfortlesse that trust in thee , We haue no golde nor siluer thée to giue , Ne sacrifice to those thine aultars due , In stéede wherof we consecrate our harts To serue thy will , and hestes for to obey . Whyles the Chorus is thus praying to Bacchus , Eteocles returneth by the gates called Electrae .

Actus . 2.

Scena . 2. ETEOCLES . CREON. SInce I haue ridde mine enmie out of sight , The best shall be for Creon now to sende , ( My mothers brother ) that with him I may Reason , consulte , conferre , and counsell bothe , What shall be best to vse in our defence , Before we venter forth into the fielde . But of this trauayle , loe , he me acquites That comes in haste towards these royall towres . Here Creon attended by foure gentlemen , commeth in by the gates Homoloydes . Cre. O mightie king , not causelesse nowe I come , To finde , that long haue sought your maistie . So to discharge the duetie that I owe To you , by comforte and by counsell bothe . Ete. No lesse desire this harte of mine did presse , To send for thée Creon , since that in vaine My mother hath hir words and trauayle spent , To reconcile Polynices and me : For he ( so dull was his caparitie ) Did thinke , he could by dread of daunger , winne My princely heart to yéeld to him his realme . Cre. I vnderstande , the armie that he brings Agaynst these walles , is such , that I me doubte Our cities force may scarce the same resist . Yet true it is , that right and reason both Are on our side , which bring the victorie Oftetimes : for we our countrey to defend , They to subdue the same in armes are come . But what I would vnto your highnesse shewe , Is of more weight , and more behoues to know . Ete. And what is that ? oh quickly tell it me . Cre. A Gréeke prisner is come vnto my hands . Ete. And what sayth he that doth so much importe ? Cre. That euen alredy by their ranks in raye , And streight will giue assault to these our walles . Ete. Then must I streight prepare our Citizens In glittring arms to march into the fielde . Cre. O Prince ( and pardon me ) thy youthfull yers Nor sée them selfe , ne let thée once discerne , What best behoueth in this doubtfull case . " For Prudence , she that is the mightie quéene " Of all good workes , growes by experience , " Which is not founde with fewe dayes séeking for . Ete. And were not this both sounde and wise aduise , Boldly to looke our foemen in the face , Before they spred our fields with hugie hoste , And all the towne beset by siege at once ? Cre. We be but few , and they in number great . Ete. Our men haue yet more courage farre than they . Cre. That know I not , nor am I sure to say . Ete. Those eyes of thine in little space shall sée How many I my selfe can bring to grounde . Cre. That would I like , but harde it is to doe . Eto . I nill penne vp our men within the walles . Cre. In counsell yet the victorie consistes . Ete. And wilt thou then I vse some other reade ? Cre. What else ? be still a while , for hast makes wast . Ete. By night I will the Cammassado giue . Cre. So may you do and take the ouerthrowe . Ete. The vauntage is to him that doth assaulte . Cre. Yet skirmishe giuen by night is perillous . Ete. Let set vpon them as they sit at meat . Cre. Sodayne assaults affray the minde no doubt , But we had néede to ouercome . Ete. So shall we do . Cre. No sure , vnlesse some other counsell helpe . Ete. Amid their trenches shall we them inuade ? Cre. As who should say , were none to make defence . Ete. Should I then yéeld the Citie to my foes ? Cre. No , but aduise you well if you be wise . Ete. That were thy parte , that knowest more than I. Cre. Then shall I say that best doth séeme to me ? Ete. Yea Creon yea , thy counsell holde I deare . Cre. Seuen men of courage haue they chosen out . Ete. A slender number for so great emprise . Cre. But they them chose for guides and capitaynes . Ete. To such an hoste ? why they may not suffise . Cre. Nay , to assault the seuen gates of the citie . Ete. What then behoueth so bestad to done ? Cre. With equall number sée you do them match . Ete. And then commit our men in charge to them ? Cre. Chusing the best and boldest blouds in Thebes . Ete. And how shall I the Citie then defende ? Cre. Well-with the rest , , for one man sées not all . Ete. And shall I chuse the boldest or the wisest ? Cre. Nay both , for one without that other fayles . Ete. Force without wisedome then is little worth . Cre. " That one must be fast to that other ioynde . Ete. Creon I will thy counsell follow still , For why , I hold it wise and trusty both , And out of hand for now I will departe That I in time the better may prouide Before occasion slip out of my hands , And that I may this Polynices Kyll . quell : For well may I with bloudy knife him slea That comes in armes my countrie for to spoyle . But if so please to fortune and to fate That other ende than I do thinke may fall , To thée my frend it resteth to procure The mariage twixt my sister Antygone And thy deare sonne Haemone , to whom for dowre At parting thus I promise to performe As much as late I did Promisse . beheste to thée : My mothers bloude and brother deare thou arte , Ne néede I craue of thée to gard hir well , As for my father care I not , for if So chaunce I dye , it may full well be sayd His bitter curses brought me to my bane . Cre. The Lord defend , for that vnworthy were . Ete. Of Thebes towne the rule and scepter loe I néede nor ought it otherwise dispose Than vnto thée , if I dye without heyre . Yet longs my lingring mynde to vnderstand , The doubtfull ende of this vnhappie warre : Wherfore I will thou send thy sonne to seke Tyresias the deuine , and learne of him , For at my call I knowe he will not come That often haue his artes and him reprovde . Cre. As you commaund , so ought I to performe . Ete. And last , I thée and citie both commaund , If fortune frendly fauour our attemptes , And make our men triumphant victors all , That none there be so hardie ne so bolde For Polynices bones to giue a graue : And who presumes to breake my best herein , Shall dye the death in penaunce of his paine : For though I were by bloud to him conioynde I pa●t it now , and iustice goeth with me To guide my steppes victoriously before . Pray you to Ioue he deigne for to defende , Our Citie safe both now and euermore . Cre. Gramercie worthie prince , for all thy loue And faithfull trust thou doest in me repose , And if should hap , that I hope neuer shall , I promise yet to doe what best behoues , But chieflie this I sweare and make a vowe , For Polynices nowe our cruell foe , To holde the hest that thou doest me commaunde . Creon attendeth Eteocles to the gates Electrae he returneth and goeth out by the gates called Homoloydes . CHORVS . O Fierce and furious Mars , whose harmefull harte , Reioyceth most to shed the giltlesse blood , Whose headie wil doth all the world subuert , And doth enuie the pleasant mery moode , Of our estate that erst in quiet stoode . Why doest thou thus our harmelesse towne annoye , Which mightie Bacchus gouerned in ioye ? Father of warre and death , that dost remoue With wrathfull wrecke from wofull mothers breast , The trustie pledges of their tender loue , So graunt the Gods , that for our finall rest , Dame Venus pleasant lookes may please thée best , Wherby when thou shalt all amazed stand , The sword may fall out of thy trembling hand . And thou maist proue some other way full well The bloudie prowesse of thy mightie speare , Wherwith thou raisest from the depth of hell , The wrathfull sprites of all the furies there , Who when the weake , doe wander euery where , And neuer rest to range about the coastes , Tenriche that pit with spoile of damned ghostes . And when thou hast our fieldes forsaken thus , Let cruell discorde beare thée companie , Engirt with snakes and serpents venemous , Euen she that can with red virmilion dye The gladsome gréene that florisht pleasantly , And make the gréedie ground a drinking cup , To sup the bloud of murdered bodyes vp . Yet thou returne O ioye and pleasant peace , From whence thou didst against our wil depart , Ne let thy worthie minde from trauell cease , To chase disdaine out of the poysned harte , That raised warre to all our paynes and smarte , Euen from the brest of Oedipus his sonne , Whose swelling pride hath all this iarre begonne . And thou great God , that doest all things decrée , And sitst on highe aboue the starrie skies , Thou chiefest cause of causes all that bée , Regard not his offence but heare our cries , And spedily redresse our miseries , For what cause we poore wofull wretches doe But craue thy aide , and onely cleaue therto ? Finis Actus secundi . Done by G. Gascoygne .

The order of the thirde dumbe shewe .

BEfore the beginning of this .iij. Act did sound a very dolefull noise of cornettes , during the which there opened and appeared in the stage a great Gulfe . Immediatly came in .vj. gentlemen in their dublets & hose , bringing vpon their shulders baskets full of earth and threwe them into the Gulfe to fill it vp , but it would not so close vp nor be filled . Then came the ladyes and dames that stoode by , throwing in their cheynes & Iewels , so to cause it stoppe vp and close it selfe : but when it would not so be filled , came in a knighte with his sword drawen , armed at all poyntes , who walking twise or thrise about it , & perusing it , seing that it would nether be filled with earth nor with their Iewells and ornaments , after solempne reuerence done to the gods , and curteous leaue taken of the Ladyes and standers by , sodeinly lepte into the Gulfe , the which did close vp immediatly : betokning vnto vs the loue that euery worthy person oweth vnto his natiue countries , by the historye of Curtins , who for the lyke cause aduentured the like in Rome . This done , blinde Tyresias the deuine prophete led in by hys daughter , and conducted by Meneceus the son of Creon , entreth by the gates Electrae , and sayth as followeth .

Actus . iij.

Scena . 1. TYRESIAS . CREON. MANTO . MENECEVS . SACERDOS . THou trustie guide of my so trustlesse steppes Déer daughter mine go we , lead thou the way , For since the day I first did léese this light Thou only art the light of these mine eyes : And for thou knowst I am both old & weake And euer longing after louely rest , Direct my steppes amyd the playnest pathes , That so my febled féete may féele lesse paine . Meneceus thou gentle childe , tell me , Is it farre hence , the place where we must goe , Where as thy father for my comming stayes ? For like vnto the slouthfull snayle I drawe , ( Deare sonne ) with paine these aged legges of mine , Creon returneth by the gates Homoloydes . And though my minde be quicke , scarce can I moue . Cre. Comfort thy selfe deuine , Creon thy frend Loe standeth here , and came to méete with thée To ease the paine that thou mightst else sustaine , " For vnto elde eche trauell yeldes annoy And thou his daughter and his faithfull guide , Age must be helped by youth . Loe rest him here , and rest thou there withall Thy virgins hands , that in sustayning him Doest well acquite the duetie of a childe . " For crooked age and hory siluer heares " Still craueth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares . Tyr. Gramercie Lorde what is your noble will ? Cre. What I would haue of thée Tyresias Is not a thing so soone for to be sayde . But rest a whyle thy weake and weary limmes And take some breath now after wearie walke , And tell I pray thée , what this crowne doth meane , That sits so kingly on thy skilfull heade ? Tyr. Know this , that for I did with graue aduise , Foretell the Citizens of Athens towne , How they might best with losse of litle bloude , Haue victories against their enimies , Hath bene the cause why I doe weare this Crowne , As right rewarde and not vnméete for me . Cre. So take I then this thy victorious crowne , For our auaile in token of good lucke , That knowest , how the discord and debate Which late is fallen betwene these brethren twaine , Hath brought all Thebes in daunger and in dreade . Eteocles our king , with threatning armes , Is gone against his greekish enimies , Commaunding me to learne of thée ( who arte A true diuine of things that be to come ) What were for vs the safest to be done , From perill now our countrey to preserue . Tyr. Long haue I bene within the towne of Thebes , Since that I tyed this trustie toung of mine From telling truth , fearing Eteocles : Yet , since thou doest in so great néede desire I should reueale things hidden vnto thée , For common cause of this our common weale , I stand content to pleasure thée herein . But first ( that to this mightie God of yours There might some worthie sacrifice be made ) Let kill the fairest goate that is in Thebes Within whose bowelles when the Préest shall loke , And tell to me what he hath there espyed , I trust t' aduise thée what is best to doen. Cre. Lo here the temple , and ere long I looke To sée the holy préest that hither commes , Bringing with him the pure and faire offrings , Which thou requirest : for not long since , I sent For him , as one that am not ignorant Of all your rytes and sacred ceremonyes : He went to choose amid our herd of goates , The fattest there : and loke where now he commes . Sacerdos accompanyed with .xvj. Bacchanales and all his rytes and ceremonies , entreth by the gates Homoloydes . Sacer. O famous Citizens , that holde full deare Your quiet country : Loe where I doe come Most ioyfully , with wonted sacrifice , So to beséeche the supreme Citizens , To stay our state that staggringly doth stand , And plant vs peace where warre and discord growes : Wherfore , with hart deuoute and humble chéere , Whiles I breake vp the bowels of this beast , ( That oft thy veneyarde Bacchus hath destroyed , ) Let euery wight craue pardon for his faults , With bending knee about his aultars here . Tyr. Take here the salt , and sprincle therwithall About the necke : that done , cast all the rest Into the sacred fire , and then annoynte The knife prepared for the sacrifice . O mightie Ioue , preserue the precious gifte That thou me gaue , when first thine angrie Quéene , Venus made him blynde for giuing sentence against hir . For deepe disdayne did both mine eyes do out , Graunt me , I may foretell the truth in this , For , but by thée , I know that I ne may , Ne wil , ne can , one trustie sentence say . Sa. This due is done . Tyr. With knife then stick the kid , Sac. Thou daughter of deuine Tyresias , With those vnspotted virgins hands of thine Receiue the bloude within this vessell here , And then deuoutly it to Bacchus yelde . Man. O holy God of Thebes , that doest both praise Swete peace , and doest in hart also disdayne The noysome noyse , the furies and the fight Of bloudie Mars and of Bellona both : O thou the giuer both of ioy and health , Receiue in grée and with well willing hand These holy whole brunt offrings vnto thée : And as this towne doth wholy thée a dore , So by thy helpe do graunt that it may stand Safe from the enimies outrage euermore . Sac. Now in thy sacred name I bowell here This sacrifice . Tyre . And what entralls hath it ? Sac. Faire and welformed all in euery poynt , The liuer cleane , the hart is not infect , Saue loe , I finde but onely one hart string By which I finde something I wote nere what , That séemes corrupt , and were not onely that , In all the rest , they are both sound and hole . Tyr. Now cast at once into the holy flame The swete incense , and then aduertise mée What hew it beares , and euery other ryte That ought may helpe the truth for to coniecte . Sac. I sée the flames doe sundrie coulours cast , Now bloudy sanguine , straight way purple , blew , Some partes séeme blacke , some gray , and some be gréene . Tyr. Stay there , suffyseth this for to haue séene . Know Creon , that these outward séemely signes ( By that the Gods haue let me vnderstand Who know the truth of euery secrete thing ) Betoken that the Citie great of Thebes Shall Victor be against the Gréekish host , If so consent be giuen : but more than this I lyst not say . Cre. Alas , for curtesie Say on Tyresias , neuer haue respect To any liuing man , but tell the truth . Sacerdos returneth with the Bacchanales , by the gates Homoloides . Sac. In this meane while I will returne with spéede From whence I came : for lawfull is it not , That suche as I should heare your secresies . Tyr. Contrary then to that which I haue sayde , The incest foule , and childbirth monstruous Of Iocasta , so stirres the wrath of Ioue , This citie shall with bloudy channels swimme , And angry Mars shall ouercome it all With famine , flame , rape , murther , dole and death : These lustie towres shall haue a headlong fall , These houses burnde , and all the rest be razde , And soone be sayde , here whilome Thebes stoode . One onely way I finde for to escape , Which bothe would thée displease to heare it tolde , And me to tell percase were perillous . Thée therfore with my trauell I commende To Ioue , and with the rest I will endure , What so shall chaunce for our aduersitie . Cre. Yet stay a whyle , Tyr. Creon make me not stay By force . Cre. Why fléest thou ? Tyr. Syr t is not from thée I flée , but from this fortune foule and fell . Cre. Yet tell me what behoues the citie doe ? Tyr. Thou Creon séemest now desirous still It to preserue : but if as well as I Thou knewest that which is to thée vnknowne , Then wouldst thou not so soone consent thereto . Cre. And would not I with eagre minde desire The thing that may for Thebes ought auayle ? Tyr. And dost thou then so instantly request To know which way thou mayest the same preserue ? Cre. For nothing else I sent my sonne of late To séeke for thée . Tyr. Then will I satisfie Thy gréedie minde in this : but first tell me , Menetius where is he ? Cre. Not farre from me . Tyr. I pray thée sende him out some other where . Cre. Why wouldest thou that he should not be here ? Tyr. I would not haue him heare what I should say . Cre. He is my sonne , ne will he it reueale . Tyr. And shall I then while he is present speake ? Cre. Yea , be thou sure that he no lesse than I , Doth wishe full well vnto this common weale . Tyr. Then Creon shalt thou knowe : the meane to saue This Citie , is , that thou shalt slea thy sonne , And of his bodie make a sacrifice For his countrey : lo héere is all you séeke So much to knowe , and since you haue me forst To tell the thing that I would not haue tolde , If I haue you offended with my words , Blame then your selfe , and eke your frowarde fate . Cre. Oh cruel words , oh , oh , what hast thou sayde , Thou cruell sothsayer ? Tyr. Euen that , that heauen Hath ordeined once , and néedes it must ensue . Cre. How many euils hast thou knit vp in one ? Tyr. Though euill for thée , yet for thy countrey good . Cre. And let my countrey perishe , what care I ? " Tyr. Aboue all things we ought to holde it deare . Cre Cruell were he , that would not loue his childe . " Tyr. For common weale , were well , that one man waile . Cre. To loose mine owne , I liste none other saue . " Tyr. Best Citizens care least for priuat gayne . Cre. Depart , for nowe , with all thy prophecies . " Tyr. Lo , thus the truth doth alwayes hatred get . Cre. Yet pray I thée by these thy siluer heares , " Tyr. The harme that commes from heauen can not be scapt . Cre. And by thy holy spirite of prophecie , " Tyr. What heauen hath done , that cannot I vndoe . Cre. That to no moe this secrete thou reueale . Tyr. And wouldst thou haue me learne to make a lye ? Cre. I pray thée hold thy peace . Tyr. That will I not : But in thy woe to yéelde thée some reliefe , I tell thée once , thou shalt be Lorde of Thebes , Which happe of thine this string did well declare , Which from the heart doth out alonely growe . So did the péece corrupted playnly shewe , An argument most euident to proue Thy sonne his death . Cre. Well , yet be thou content To kéepe full close this secrete hidden griefe . Tyr. I neither ought , ne will kéepe it so close . Cre. Shall I be then the murtherer of mine owne ? Tyr. Ne blame not me , but blame the starres for this . Cre. Can heauens condemne but him alone to dye ? Tyr. We ought beléeue the cause is good and iust . " Cre. Vniust is he condemnes the innocent . Great follye to accuse the gods . " Tyr. A foole is he accuseth heauens of wrongs . " Cre. There can no ill thing come from heauens aboue . Tyr. Then this that heauen commaunds can not be ill . Cre. I not beléeue that thou hast talkt with God . Tyr. Bicause I tell thée that doth thée displease . Cre. Out of my sight accursed lying wretch . Tyr. Go daughter go , A thankles office to foretell a mischiefe . oh what foole is he That puts in vre to publish prophecies ? " For if he do fore tell a froward fate , " Though it be true , yet shall he purchase hate : " And if he silence kéepe , or hide the truth , " The heauy wrath of mightie Gods ensuth . Appollo he might well tell things to come , That had no dread the angry to offende . But hye we daughter hence some other way . Tyresias with Manto his daughter , returneth by the gates called Electrae .

Scena . 2. CREON. MENECEVS . OH my deare childe , well hast thou heard with eare These wéery newes , or rather wicked tales That this deuine of thée deuined hath : Yet will thy father neuer be thy foe , With cruell doome thy death for to consent . Me. You rather ought , O father , to consent Vnto my death , since that my death may bring No greater honor than to dye for thy countrey . Vnto this towne both peace and victorie . " Ne can I purchase more prayse worthy death " Than for my countries wealth to lose my breath Cre. I cannot prayse this witlesse will of thine . Me. " You know deare father , that this life of ours " Is brittle , short , and nothing else in déede " But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne : " And death , whose darte to some men séemes so fell , Death ( indeed ) yeldeth more pleasure than lyfe . " Brings quiet ende to this vnquiet life . " Vnto which ende who soonest doth arriue , " Fi●●s soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe . " And were it so , that here on earth we felte " No pricke of paine , nor that our flattring dayes " Were neuer dasht by froward fortunes frowne , " Yet béeing borne ( as all men are ) to dye , " Were not this worthy glory and renowne , " To yéelde the countrey soyle where I was borne , " For so long time , so shorte a time as mine ? I can not thinke that this can be denied . Then if to shunne this haughtie high behest , Mine onely cause , O father , doth you moue , Be sure , you séeke to take from me your sonne , The greatest honor that I can attayne : But if your owne commoditie you moue , So much the lesse you ought the same allowe : For looke , how much the more you haue in Thebes , So much the more you ought to loue the same : Here haue you Hemone , he that in my steade ( O my deare father ) may with you remaine , So that , although you be depriued of me Yet shall you not be quite depriued of heires . Cre. I can not chuse , deare sonne , but disalowe This thy too hastie , hote desire of death : For if thy life thou settest all so lighte , Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect , Who as I drawe the more to lumpishe age , So much more néede haue I to craue thine ayde : Ne will I yet , with stubborne tong denye , " That for his common weale to spende his life , " Doth win the subiect high renoumed name . " But howe ? in armour to defende the state , " Not like a beast to bléede in sacrifice : And therwithal , if any shoulde consent To such a death , then should the same be I , That haue prolonged life euen long enough , Nay many dayes haue I nowe to drawe on . And more auaile might to the countrie come , Deare sonne , to hold that lustie life of thine , That art both yong and eke of courage stout . Than may by me that féeble am and olde . Then liue deare sonne in high prosperitie , And giue me leaue that worthy am to dye . Mene. Yet worthy were not that vnworthy chaunge . Cre. If such a death bring glorie , giue it me . Mene. Not you , but me , the heauens cal to die . Cre. We be but one in flesh and body both . Mene. I father ought , so ought not you , to die . Cre. If thou sonne die , thinke not that I can liue : Then let me die , and so shall he first die , That ought to die , and yet but one shal die . Me. Although I , father , ought t' obey your bestes , Yet euill it were in this to yelde your will . Cre. Thy wit is wylie for to worke thy wo. Me. Oh , tender pitie moueth me thereto . " Cre. A beast is he , that kils himselfe with a knife , " Of pitie to preserue an others life . " Me. Yet wise is he , that doth obey the Gods Cre. The Gods will not the death of any wight . " Me. Whose life they take , they giue him life also . Cre. But thou dost striue to take thy life thy selfe . Me. Nay them to obey , that will I shall not liue . Cre. What fault , O sonne , condemneth thée to death ? " Me. Who liueth ( father ) here without a fault ? Cre. I sée no gylte in thée that death deserues . Me. But God it séeth that euery secrete séeth . Cre. How shoulde we knowe what is the will of God ? Me. We knowe it then , when he reueales the same . Cre. As though he would come doune to tell it vs , Me. By diuers meanes his secrets he discloseth . Cre. Oh , fonde is he , whothinkes to vnderstand The mysteries of Ioue his secrete mynde : And for to ende this controuersie here , Loe thus I say , I will we both liue yet : Comaundements . Prepare thée then , my ( * ) hestes to holde and kéepe , And pull a downe that stubborne heart of thyne , Me. You may of me , as of your selfe dispose , And since my life doth séeme so deare to you , I will preserue the same to your auaile , That I may spende it alwayes to your wil. Cre. Then , thée behoues out of this towne to flie : Before the bold and blinde Tyresias Doe publish this that is as yet vnknowne . Me. And where , or in what place shall I become ? Cre. Where thou mayste be hence furthest out of sight . Me. You may commaunde , and I ought to obey . Cre. Go to the lande of Thesbeoita . Me. Where Dodona doth sit in sacred chaire ? Cre. Euen there my childe . Me. And who shall guide my wandring steps ? Cre. high Ioue . Me. Who shal giue sustenance for my reliefe ? Cre. There will I send thée heapes of glistring golde . Me. But when shall I eftesoones my father sée ? Cre. Ere long I hope : but now , for now depart . For euery lingring let or little stay , May purchase payne and torment both to me . Me. First would I take my conge of the Quéene , That since the day my mother lost hir life , Hath nourisht me as if I were hir owne . Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes . Cre. Oh , tarry not my deare sonne , tarry not . Me. Beholde father , I goe . You dames of Thebes , Pray to almightie Ioue for my retourne : You sée how mine vnhappie starres me driue To go my countrie fro : and if so chaunce , I ende in woe my pryme and lustie yeares Before the course of Nature do them call , Honor my death yet with your drery plaints : And I shall eke , where so this carkas come , Pray to the Gods that they preserue this towne . Meneceus departeth by the gates Electrae . CHORVS . WHen she that rules the rolling whéele of chaunce , Doth turne aside hir angrie frowning face , On him , whom erst she deigned to aduance , She neuer leaues to gaulde him with disgrace , To tosse and turne his state in euery place , Till at the last the hurle him from on high And yeld him subiect vnto miserie : And as the braunche that from the roote is rest , He neuer winnes like life to that he lefte : Yea though he do , yet can not tast of ioy Compare with pangs that past in his annoy . Well did the heauens ordeine for our behoofe Necessitie , and fates by them alowde , That when we sée our high mishappes aloofe ( As though our eyes were mufled with a cloude ) Our froward will doth shrinke it selfe and shrowde From our auaile wherwith we runne so faree : As none amends can make that we do marre : Then drawes euill happe & striues to shew his strength , And such as yeld vnto his might , at length He leades them by necessitie the way That destinie preparde for our decay . The Mariner amidde the swelling seas Who séeth his barke with many a billowe beaten , Now here , now there , as wind and waues best please , When thundring Ioue with tempest list to threaten , And dreades in depest gulfe for to be eaten , Yet learnes a meane by mere necessitie To saue himselfe in such extremitie : For when he séeth no man hath witte nor powre To flie from fate when fortune list to lowre , His only hope on mightie Ioue doth caste , Whereby he winnes the wished heauen at last . How fond is that man in his fantasie , Who thinks that Ioue the maker of vs al , And he that tempers all in heauen on high , The sunne , the mone , the starres celestiall , So that no leafe without his leaue can fall , Hath not in him omnipotence also To guide and gouerne all things here below ? O blinded eies , O wretched mortall wights , O subiect slaues to euery ill that lights , To scape such woe , such paine , such shame and scorne , Happie were he that neuer had bin borne . Well might duke Creon driuen by destinie , ( If true it be that olde Tyresias saith ) Redeme our citie from this miserie , By his consent vnto Meneceus death , Who of himselfe wold faine haue lost his breth : " But euery man is loth for to fulfill " The heauenly hest that pleaseth not his will . " That publique weale must néedes to ruine g● " Where priuate profite is preferred so . Yet mightie God , thy only aide we craue , This towne from siege , and vs from sorowe saue . Finis Actus tertij . done by G. Gascoygne .

The order of the fourth dumbe shewe .

BEfore the beginning of this fourth Acte , the Trumpets , drummes and fifes sounded , and a greate peale of ordinaunce was shot of : in the which ther entred vpon the stage .vj. knights armed at al points : wherof three came in by the Gates Electrae , and the other three by the Gates Homoloides : either parte beeing accompanied with .vij. other armed men : and after they had marched twice or thrice about the Stage , the one partie menacing the other by their furious lookes and gestures , the .vj. knights caused their other attendants to stand by , and drawing their Swords , fell to cruell and couragious combate , continuing therein , till two on the one side were slayne . The thirde perceiuing , that he only remayned to withstand the force of .iij. enimies , did politiquely runne aside : wherewith immediatly one of the .iij. followed after him , and when he had drawen his enimie thus from his companie , hee turned againe and slewe him . Then the seconde also ranne after him , whom he slewe in like manner , and consequently the thirde , and then triumphantly marched aboute the Stage wyth hys sword in his hand . Hereby was noted the incomparable force of concorde betwene brethren , who as long as they holde togither may not easily by any meanes be ouercome , and being once disseuered by any meanes , are easily ouerthrowen . The history of the brethren Horatij & Curiatij , who agreed to like combate and came to like ende . After that the dead carkasses were caried from the Stage by the armed men on both parties , and that the victor was triumphantly accompanied out , also came in a messanger armed from the campe , seeking the Queene , and to hir spake as foloweth .

Actus .iiij.

Scena .j. NVNCIVS IOCASTA . Nuncius commeth in by the gates Homoloides . O Sage and sober dames , O shamefast maids , O faithful seruants of our aged Quéene , Come leade hir forth , sith vnto hir I bring Such secrete newes as are of great importe . Come forth , O Quéene , surceasse thy wofull plaint , And to my words vouchsafe a willing eare . The Queene with hir traine commeth out of hir Pallace . Ioca. My seruant deare , doest thou yet bring me newes Of more mishappe ? ah werie wretch , alas , How doth Eteocles ? whom heretofore In his encreasing yeares , I wonted ay From daungerous happe with fauoure to defend , Doth he yet liue ? or hath vntimely death In cruell fight herefte his flowring life ? Nun. He liues ( O Quéene ) hereof haue ye no doubt , From such suspecte my selfe will quit you soone . Ioca. The ventrous Gréekes haue haply tane the towne ? Nun. The Gods forbid . Ioca. Our souldiers then , perchance , Dispersed bene and yelden to the sword . Nun. Not so , they were at first in daunger sure , But in the end obteined victorie . Ioca. Alas , what then becomes of Polynice ? Oh canst thou tell ? is he dead or aliue ? Nun. You haue ( O Quéene ) yet both your sonnes aliue Ioca. Oh , how my harte is eased of his paine . Well , then procéede , and briefly let me heare , How ye repulst your proud presuming foes , That thereby yet at least I may assuage The swelling sorrowes in my dolefull brest , In that the towne is hitherto preserude : And for the rest , I trust that might Ioue Will yeld vs ayde . Nun. No soner had your worthy valiant sonne , Seuerde the Dukes into seauen seuerall partes , And set them to defence of seuerall gates , And brought in braue arraye his horssemen out , First to encounter with their mightie foen , And likewise pitcht , the footemen face to face Against the footemen of their enimies , But fiercely straight , the armies did approche , Swarming so thicke , as couerde cleane the fielde , When dreadfull blast of braying trumpets sounds , Of dolefull drummes , and thundring cannon shot , Gaue hideous signe of horrour of the fight , Then gan the Greekes to giue their sharpe assaulte , Then from the walls our stout couragious men , With rolling stones , with paisse of hugie beames , With flying dartes , with flakes of burning fire , And deadly blowes , did beate them backe againe : Thus striuing long , with stout and bloudie fighte , ( Whereby full many thousande slaughtered were ) The hardie Greeks came vnderneath the walls : Of whome , first Capaney ( a lustie Knight ) Did scale the walls , and on the top thereof Did vaunt himselfe , when many hundred moe , With fierce assaultes did follow him as fast . Then loe , the Captaines seauen bestirrde themselues , ( Whose names ye haue alreadie vnderstoode ) Some here , some there , nought dreading losse of life , With newe reliefe to féede the fainting breach : And Polynice , he bended all the force Of his whole charge , against the greatest gate , When sodenly a flashe of lightning flame From angrie skies strake captaine Capaney That there downe dead he fell : at sight whereof The gazers on were fraught with soden feare . The rest , that stroue to mount the walles so fast , From ladders toppe did headlong tumble downe . Herewith our men encouragde by good happe , Toke hardy harts , and so repulst the Grekes . Ther was Eteocles , and I with him , Who setting first those souldiers to their charge , Ranne streight to thother gates : vnto the weake He manly comforte gaue : vnto the bold His lusty words encreased courage still : In so much as th' amased Grecian king When he did heare of Capaney his death , Fearing thereby the Gods became his foen , Out from the trench withdrewe his wearie host . But rashe Eteocles ( presuming too too much Vppon their flight ) did issue out of Thebes , And forwarde straight with strength of chiualrie , His flying foes couragiously pursude . Too long it were to make recompt of all That wounded bene , or slaine , or captiue now : The cloudy ayre was filled round aboute With houling cries and wofull wayling plaints : So great a slaughter ( O renowmed Quéene ) Before this day I thinke was neuer séene . Thus haue we now cut of the fruitlesse hope The Grecians had , to sacke this noble towne . What ioyfull end will happen herevnto Yet know I not : the gods tourne all to good . " To conquere , lo , is doubtlesse worthy praise , " But wisely for to vse the conquest gotte , " Hath euer wonne immortall sound of fame . Well , yet therewhile in this we may reioyce , Sith heauen and heauenly powers are pleasde therewith . Ioca. This good successe was luckie sure , and such , As for my parte I little loked for : To saue the towne and eke to haue my sonnes ( As you report ) preserued yet aliue . But yet procéede , and further let me know The finall ende that they agréed vpon . Nun. No more ( O quéene ) let this for now suffise , Sith hitherto your state is safe inough . Ioca. These words of tdine , do whelme my iealous mind With great suspecte of other mischiefes hidde . Nun. What would you more , alredy being sure That both your sonnes in safetie do remaine ? Ioca. I long to know the rest , or good or bad . Nun. O let me now retourne to Eteocles , That of my seruice greatly stands in néede . Ioca. Right well I sée , thou doest conceale the woorst . Nun. Oh force me not , the good now béeing past , To tell the yll . Ioca. Tell it I say , on paine of our displeasure . Nun. Since thus ye séeke to heare a dolefull tale , I will no longer stay : witte ye therefore , Your desperate sonnes togither be agréed For to attempt a wicked enterprise : To priuate fight they haue betroutht themselues , Of which conflicte , the ende must néedes be this , That one do liue , that other die the death . Ioca. Alas , alas , this did I euer feare . Nun. Now , sith in summe I haue reuealed that , Which you haue heard with great remorse of mind , I will procéede , at large to tell the whole . When your victorious sonne , with valiant force Had chast his foes into their ioyning tents , Euen there he staide , and straight at sound of trumpe With stretched voice the herault thus proclaimde : You princely Gréekes , that hither be arriued To spoile the fruite of these our fertile fields , And vs to driue from this our Natiue soile , O suffer not so many giltlesse soules By this debate descend in Stygian lake , For priuate cause of wicked Polynice , But rather let the brethren , hand to hand , By mutuall blowes appease their furious rage , And so to cease from sheding further bloud : And , to the end you all might vnderstand The profite that to euery side may fall , Thus much my Lord thought good to profer you , This is his will , if he be ouercome , Then Polynice to rule this kingly realme : If so it happe ( as reason would it should ) Our rightfull prince to conquere Polynice , That then no one of you make more adoo , But straight to Argos I le hast home againe . This , thus pronounst vnto the noble Gréeks , No soner did the sound of trumpet cease , But Polynice stept forth before the host , And to these words this answere did he make : O thou , ( not brother ) but my mortall foe , Thy profer here hath pleased me so well , As presently , without more long delay , I yeld my selfe prepared to the field . Our noble King no soner heard this vaunt , But forth as fast he prest his princely steppes , With eger mind , as hoouering falcon woonts To make hir stoope , when pray appeares in sight : At all assayes they both were brauely armed , To eithers side his sword fast being girt , In eithers hand was put a sturdy launce : About Eteocles our souldiers cloong , To comforte him , and put him then in mind , He fought for safetie of his country soile , And that in him consisted all their hope . To Polynice the king Adrastus swore , If he escaped victor from the fielde , At his returne he would in Greece erecte A golden Image vnto mightie Ioue In signe of his triumphing victorie . But all this while séeke you ( O noble quéene ) To hinder this your furious sonnes attempte : Intreat the Gods it may not take effecte , Els must you néedes ere long depriued be Of both your sonnes , or of the one at least . Nuncius returneth to the camp by the gates Homoloydes . IOCASTA . ANTIGONE . ANtigone my swete daughter , come forth Out of this house , that nought but woe retaines , Come forth I say , not for to sing or daunce , But to preuent ( if in our powers it lie ) That thy malicious brethren ( swolne with ire ) And I alas , their miserable mother , Be not destroide by stroke of dreadfull death . Antigone commeth out of hir mothers Pallace . Anti. Ah swete mother , ah my beloued mother , Alas alas , what cause doth moue ye now From trembling voice to send such carefull cries ? What painefull pang ? what griefe doth gripe you now ? Ioca. O deare daughter , thy most vnhappie brethren That sometimes lodgde within these wretched loynes Shall die this day , if Ioue preuent it not . Anti. Alas what say you ? alas what do you say ? Can I ( alas ) endure to sée him dead , Whom I thus long haue sought to sée aliue ? Ioca. They both haue vowde ( I quake alas to tell ) With trenchant blade to spill eche others blood . Antig. O cruell Eteocles , ah ruthlesse wretch , Of this outrage thou only art the cause , Not Polynice , whom thou with hatefull spight Hast reaued first of crowne and countrie soyle , And now doest séeke to reaue him of his life . Ioca. Daughter no more delay , let s go , let s go . Anti. Ah my swéete mother , whither shall I go ? Ioca. With me , déere daughter , to the gréekish host . Anti. Alas how can I go ? vnles I go In daunger of my life , or of good name ? Ioca. Time serues not now ( my well beloued childe ) To way the losse of life or honest name , But rather to preuent ( if so we may ) That wicked déede , which only but to thinke , Doth hale my hart out of my heauie brest . Anti. Come then , let s go , good mother let vs go . But what shall we be able for to doe , You a weake old woman forworne with yeares , And I God knowes a silly simple mayde ? Ioca. Our wofull wordes , our prayers & our plaintes , Pourde out with streames of ouerflowing teares , ( Where Nature rules ) may happen to preuayle , When reason , power , and force of armes do fayle . But if the glowing heate of boyling wrath So furious be , as it may not relent , Then I atwixt them both will throw my selfe , And this my brest shal beare the deadly blowes , That otherwise should light vpon my sonnes : So shall they shead my bloud and not their owne . Well now déere daughter , let vs hasten hence , For if in time we stay this raging strife , Then haply may my life prolonged be : If ere we come the bloudy déede be done , Then must my ghost forsake this féeble corps : And thou , deare childe , with dolour shalt bewaile , Thy brothers death and mothers all at once . Iocasta with Antigone , and all hir traine ( excepte the Chorus ) goeth towards the campe , by the gates Homoloydes . CHORVS . WHo so hath felt , what faith and feruent loue A mother beares vnto hir tender sonnes , She and none other sure , can comprehende The dolefull griefe , the pangs and secret paine , That presently doth pierce the princely brest Of our afflicted Quéene : alas , I thinke No martyrdome might well compare with hirs . So ofte as I recorde hir restlesse state , Alas me thinkes I féele a shiuering feare Flit to and fro along my flushing vaines . Alas for ruth , that thus two brethren shoulde , Enforce themselues to shed each others bloud . Where are the lawes of nature nowe become ? Can fleshe of fleshe , alas can bloud of bloud , So far forget it selfe , as slay it selfe ? O lowring starres , O dimme and angrie skies , O geltie fate , suche mischiefe set aside . But if supernall powers decréed haue , That death must be the ende of this debate , Alas what floudes of teares shall then suffise , To wéepe and waile the néere approching death . I meane the death of sonnes and mother both , And with their death the ruine and decay , Of Oedipus and his princely race : But loe , here Creon commes with carefull cheare : T is time that now I ende my iust complaint . Creon commeth in by the gates Homoloydes . CREON. NVNCIVS . ALthough I straightly charge my tender childe To flée from Thebes for safegarde of him selfe , And that long since he parted from my sight , Yet doe I greatly hang in lingring doubt , Least passing through the gates , the priuie watch Hath stayed him by some suspect of treason . And so therewhile , the prophets hauing skride His hidden fate , he purchast haue the death Which I by all meanes sought he might eschewe : And this mischaunce so much I feare the more , How much the wished conquest at the first , Fell happily vnto the towne of Thebes , " But wise men ought with patience to sustaine " The sundrie haps that slipperie fortune frames . Nuncius commeth in by the gates Electrae . Nun. Alas , who can direct my hastie steppes Vnto the brother of our wofull Quéene ? But loe where carefully he standeth here . Cre. If so the minde may dread his owne mishap , Then dread I much , this man that séekes me thus , Hath brought the death of my beloued sonne . Nun. My Lorde , the thing you feare is very true , Your sonne Meneceus no longer liues . Cre. Alas who can withstand the heauenly powers ? Well , it beséemes not me , ne yet my yeares , In bootelesse plaint to wast my wailefull teares : Do thou recount to me his lucklesse deathe , The order , forme , and manner of the same . Nun. Your sonne ( my Lorde ) came to Eteocles , And tolde him this in presence of the rest : Renoumed King , neither your victorie , Ne yet the safetie of this princely Realme In armour doth consist , but in the death Of me , of me , ( O most victorious King ) So heauenly dome of mightie Ioue commaunds . I ( knowing what auayle my death should yéeld Vnto your grace , and vnto natiue land ) Might well be déemde a most vngratefull sonne Vnto this worthy towne , if I would shunne The sharpest death to do my countrie good : In mourning wéede now let the vestall Nimphes , With fainyng tunes commend my faultlesse ghost To highest heauens , while I despoyle my selfe , That afterwarde ( sith Ioue will haue it so ) To saue your liues , I may receyue my death , Of you I craue , O curteous Citizens , To shrine my corps in tombe of marble stone : Whereon graue this : Meneceus here doth lie , For countries cause that was content to die . This saide , alas , he made no more a doe , But drewe his sword , and sheathde it in his brest . Cre. No more , I haue inough , returne ye nowe From whence ye came . Nuncius returneth by the gates Electrae . Well , since the bloud of my beloued sonne , Must serue to slake the wrath of angrie Ioue , And since his onely death must bring to Thebes A quiet ende of hir vnquiet state , Me thinkes good reason would , that I henceforth Of Thebane soyle should beare the kingly swaye : Yea sure , and so I will ere it belong , Either by right , or else by force of armes . Of al mishap loe here the wicked broode , My sister first espoused hath hir sonne That slewe his fire , of whose accursed séede Two brethren sprang , whose raging hatefull hearts , By force of boyling yre are bolne so sore As each do thyrst to sucke the others bloude : But why do I sustaine the smart hereof ? Why should my bloud be spilt for others gilte ? Oh welcome were that messenger to me That brought me word of both my nephewes deathes : Any messenger is welcome that bringeth tydings of aduancement . Then should it soone be sene in euery eye , Twixt prince and prince what difference would appeare , Then should experience shewe what griefe it is To serue the humours of vnbridled youth . Now will I goe for to prepare with spéede The funerals of my yong giltlesse sonne , The which perhaps may be accompanyed With th' obsequies of proude Eteocles . Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes .

Finis Actus . 4.

Actus . 4. CHORVS . O Blisful concord , bredde in sacred brest Of him that guides the restlesse rolling sky , That to the earth for mans assured rest From heigth of heauens vouchsafest downe to flie , In thée alone the mightie power doth lie , With swete accorde to kepe the frouning starres And euery planet else from hurtfull warres . In thée , in thée such noble vertue bydes , As may commaund the mightiest Gods to bend , From thée alone such sugred frendship slydes As mortall wightes can scarcely comprehend , To greatest strife thou setst delightfull ende , O holy peace , by thée are onely founde The passing ioyes that euery where abound . Thou onely thou , through thy celestiall might , Didst first of al , the heauenly pole deuide From th' olde confused heape that Chaos hight : Thou madste the Sunne , the Moone , and starres to glide , With ordred course about this world so wide : Thou hast ordainde Dan Tytans shining light , By dawne of day to chase the darkesome night . When tract of time returnes the lustie Ver. By thée alone , the buddes and blossomes spring , The fieldes with floures be garnisht euery where , The blooming trées , aboundant fruite do bring , The cherefull birds melodiously do sing , Thou dost appoint , the crop of sommers séede For mans reliefe , to serue the winters néede . Thou doest inspire the heartes of princely péeres By prouidence , procéeding from aboue , In flowring youth to choose their worthie féeres , With whome they liue in league of lasting loue , Till fearefull death doth flitting life remoue , And loke how fast , to death man payes his due , So fast againe , doste thou his stocke renue . By thée , the basest thing aduaunced is , Thou euerie where , dost graffe such golden peace , As filleth man , with more than earthly blisse , The earth by thée , doth yelde hir swete increase At becke of thée , all bloudy discords cease , And mightiest Realmes in quiet do remaine , Wheras thy hand doth holde the royall raine . But if thou faile , then al things gone to wracke , The mother then , doth dread hir naturall childe , Then euery towne is subiect to the sacke , Then spotlesse maids , the virgins be defilde , Then rigor rules , then reason is exilde : And this , thou wofull Thebes , to our great paine , With present spoile , art likely to sustaine . Me thinke I heare the wailfull wéeping cries Of wretched dames , in euerie coast resound , Me thinkes I sée , how vp to heauenly skies From battred walls , the thundring clappes rebound , Me thinke I heare , how all things go to ground , Me thinke I sée , how souldiers wounded lye With gasping breath , and yet they can not dye . By meanes wherof , oh swete Meneceus he , That giues for countries cause his guiltlesse life , Of others all , most happy shall he be : His ghost shall flit from broiles of bloudy strife , To heauenly blisse , where pleasing ioyes be rife : And would to God , that this his fatall ende From further plagues , our citie might defend . O sacred God , giue eare vnto thy thrall , That humbly here vpon thy name doth call , O let not now , our faultlesse bloud be spilt , For hote reuenge of any others gilt . Finis Actus quarti . Done by F. Kinwelmarshe .

The order of the laste dumbe shewe .

FIrst the Stillpipes sounded a very mournful melody , in which time came vpon the Stage a woman clothed in a white garment , on hir head a piller , double faced , the formost face fair & smiling , the other behinde blacke & louring , muffled with a white laune about hir eyes , hir lap ful of Iewelles , sitting in a charyot , hir legges naked , hir fete set vpon a great round bal , & beyng drawen in by .iiij. noble personages , she led in a string on hir right hand .ij. kings crowned , and in hir lefte hand .ij. poore slaues very meanly attyred . After she was drawen about the stage , she stayed a little , changing the kings vnto the left hande & the slaues vnto the right hand , taking the crownes from the kings heads she crowned therwith the ij . slaues , & casting the vyle clothes of the slaues vpon the kings , she despoyled the kings of their robes , and therwith apparelled the slaues . This done , she was drawen eftsones about the stage in this order , and then departed , leauing vnto vs a plaine Type or figure of vnstable fortune , who dothe oftentimes raise to heighte of dignitie the vile and vnnoble , and in like manner throweth downe from the place of promotion , euen those whom before she hir selfe had thither aduaunced : after hir departure came in Duke Creon with foure gentlemen wayting vpon him and lamented the death of Meneceus his sonne in this maner .

Actus .iij.

Scena .1 . CREON. CHORVS . ALas what shall I do ? bemone my selfe ? Or rue the ruine of my Natiue lande , About the which such cloudes I sée enclosde , As darker cannot couer dreadfull hell . With mine own eyes I saw my own deare sonne All gorde with bloud of his too bloudy brest , Which he hath shed full like a friend , too deare To his countrey , and yet a cruell foe To me , that was his friend and father both . Thus to him selfe he gaynde a famous name , And glory great , to me redoubled payne : Whose haplesse death in my afflicted house , Hath put suche playnt , as I ne can espie What comfort might acquiet their distresse . I hither come my sister for to séeke , Iocasta , she that might in wofull wise Amid hir high and ouer pining cares , Prepare the baynes for his so wretched corps , And eke for him that nowe is not in life , May pay the due that to the dead pertaynes , And for the honor he did well deserue , To giue some giftes vnto infernall Gods. Cho. My Lorde , your sister is gone forth long since , Into the campe , and with hir Antigone , Hir daughter deare . Cre. Into the campe ? alas and what to do ? Cho. She vnderstoode , that for this realme foorthwith Hir sonnes were gréed in combate for to ioyne . Cre. Alas , the funerals of my deare sonne Dismayed me so , that I ne did receiue , Ne séeke to knowe these newe vnwelcome newes . But loe , beholde a playne apparant signe Of further feares : the furious troubled lookes Of him that commeth heere so hastilye .

Scena . 2. NVNCIVS . CREON. CHORVS . ALas , alas , what shall I doe ? alas , What shriching voyce may serue my wofull wordes ? O wretched I , ten thousande times a wretch , The messanger of dread and cruell death Cre. Yet more mishap ? and what vnhappie newes : Nun. My Lord , your nephues both haue lost their liues . Cre. Out and alas , to me and to this towne , Thou doest accompt great ruine and decay , You royall familie of Oedipus : And heare you this ? your liege and soueraigne Lordes The brethren both are slayne and done to death . Cho. O cruell newes , most cruell that can come , O newes that might these stony walles prouoke For tender ruthe to brust in bitter teares , And so they would , had they the sense of man . Cre. Cesers tears . O worthy yong Lordes , that vnworthy were Of such vnworthy death , O me moste wretch . Nun. More wretched shall ye déeme your selfe , my lord , When you shall heare of further miserie . Cre. And can there be more miserie than this ? Nun. With hir deare sonnes the quéene hir self is slaine . Cho. Bewayle ladies , alas good ladies waile , This harde mischaunce , this cruell common euill , Ne hencefoorth hope for euer to reioyce . Cre. O Iocasta , miserable mother , What haplesse ende thy life alas hath hent ? Percase the heauens purueyed had the same , Moued therto by the wicked wedlocke Of Oedipus thy sonne yet might thy scuse But iustly made , that knewe not of the crime . But tell me messanger , We harken somtimee willingly to wofull news . oh tell me yet The death of these two brethren , driuen therto , Not thus all onely by their drearie fate , But by the banning and the bitter cursse Of their cruell sire , borne for our annoy , And here on earth the onely soursse of euill . Nun. Then know my Lorde , the battell that begonne Vnder the walles , was brought to luckie ende . Eteocles had made his fotemen flée Within their trenches , to their foule reproche : But herewithall the brethren both straightway Eche other chalenge foorth into the fielde , By combate so to stinte their cruell strife , Who armed thus amid the fielde appeard , First Polynice turning toward Gréece His louely lookes , gan Iuno thus beséeche : O heauenly quéene , thou séest , that since the day I first did wedde Adrastus daughter deare , And stayde in Gréece , thy seruaunt haue I bene : Then ( be it not for mine vnworthinesse ) Graunt me this grace , the victorie to winne , Graunt me , that I with high triumphant hande , May bathe this blade within my brothers brest : I know I craue vnworthy victorie , Vnworthy triumphes , and vnworthy spoyles , Lo he the cause , my cruell enimie . The people wept to beare the wofull wordes Of Polynice , foreséeing eke the ende Of this outrage and cruell combate tane , Eche man gan looke vpon his drouping mate , With mindes amazed , and trembling hearts for dread , Whom pitie perced for these youthfull knightes . Eteocles with eyes vp cast to heauen , Thus sayde : O mightie loue his daughter graunt to me , That this right hande with this sharpe armed launce ( Passing amid my brothers cankred brest , ) It may eke pierce that cowarde hart of his , And so him slea that thus vnworthily Disturbes the quiet of our common weale . So sayde Eteocles , and trumpets blowne , To sende the summons of their bloudy fighte , That one the other fiercely did encounter , Like Lions two yfraught with boyling wrath , Bothe coucht their launces full agaynst the face , But heauen it * * would not nolde that there they should them teinte : Vpon the battred shields the mightie speares Are bothe ybroke , and in a thousande shiuers Amid the ayre flowne vp into the heauens : Beholde agayne , with naked sworde in hande , Eche one the other furiously assaultes . Here they of Thebes , there stoode the Greekes in doubt , Of whom doth eche man féele more chilling dread , Least any of the twayne should lose his life , Than any of the twayne did féele in fight . Their angry lookes , their deadly daunting blowes . Might witnesse well , that in their heartes remaynde As cankred hate , disdayne , and furious moode , As euer bred in beare or tygers brest . The first that hapt to hurt was Polinice , Who smote the righte thighe of Eteocles : But as we déeme , the blow was nothing déepe , Then cryed the Gréekes , and lepte with lightned harts , But streight agayne they helde their peace , for why ? Eteocles gan thrust his wicked sworde In the lefte arme of vnarmed Pollinice , And let the bloud from bare vnfenced fleshe . With falling drops distill vpon the ground , Ne long he stayes , but with an other thrust His brothers belly boweld with his blade , Then wretched he , with bridle left at large , From of his horsse fell pale vpon the ground , Ne long it was , but downe our duke dismountes From of his startling steede , and runnes in hast , His brothers haplesse helme for to vnlace , And with such hungry minde desired spoyle , ( As one that thought the fielde already woonne ) That at vnwares , his brothers dagger drawne , And griped fast within the dying hand , Vnder his side he recklesse doth receiue , That made the way to his wyde open hart . Thus falles Eteocles his brother by , From both whose breasts the bloud fast bubling , gaue A sory shewe to Greekes and Thebanes both . Cho. Oh wretched ende of our vnhappie Lordes . Cre. Oh Oedipus , I must bewaile the death Of thy deare sonnes , that were my nephewes both , But of these blowes thou oughtest féele the smarte , That with thy wonted prayers , thus hast brought Such noble blouds to this vnnoble end . But now tell on , what followed of the Quéene ? Nun. When thus with piecced harts , by their owne hands The brothers fell and wallowed in their bloud , ( That one still tumbling on the others gore ) Came their afflicted mother , then to late , And eke with hir , chast childe Antygone , Who saw no sooner how their fates had falne , But with the doubled echo of alas , She dymmde the ayre with loude complaints and cryes : Oh sonnes ( quod she ) too late came all my helpe , And all to late haue I my succour sent : And with these wordes , vpon their carcas colde She shriched so , as might haue stayed the Sunne To mourne with hir : the wofull sister eke , ( That both hir chekes did bathe in flowing teares ) Out from the depth of hir tormented brest , With scalding sighes gan draw thefe weary words , O my deare brethren , why abandon ye Our mother deare , when these hir aged yeares , ( That of themselues are weake and growne with griefe , ) Stoode most in neede of your sustaining helpe ? Why doe you leaue hir thus disconsolate ? At sounde of such hir wéeping long lament , Eteocles our king helde vp his hand , And sent from bottome of his wofull brest A doubled sighe , deuided with his griefe , In faithfull token of his feeble will To recomfort his mother and sister both : And in steade of swéete contenting words , The trickling teares raynde downe his paled chekes : Then claspt his hands , and shut his dying eyes . But Polynice , that turned his rolling eyen Vnto his mother and his sister deare , With hollow voyce and fumbling toung , thus spake : Mother , you see how I am now arryued Vnto the heauen of mine vnhappie ende : Now nothing doth remaine to me , but this , That I lament my sisters life and yours , Left thus in euerlasting woe and griefe : So am I sory for Eteocles , Who though he were my cruell enimie , He was your sonne , and brother yet to me : But since these ghostes of ours must néedes go downe With staggring steppes into the Stigian reigne , I you besech , mother and sister bothe , Of pitie yet , that you will me procure A royall tombe within my natiue realme : And now shut vp with those your tender bandes , These grieffull eyes of mine , whose dazeled light Shadowes of dreadfull death be come to close . Now rest in peace , this sayde , he yéelded vp His fainting ghost , that ready was to part . The mother thus beholding both hir sonnes Ydone to death , and ouercome with dole , Drewe out the dagger of hir Pollinice , From brothers brest , and gorde therewyth her throt● , Falling bet wéene hir sonnes : Then with hir féebled armes , she doth vnfolde Their bodies both , as if for company Hir vncontented corps were yet content To passe with them in Charons ferrie boate . When cruell fate had thus with force bereft The wofull mother and hir two deare sonnes , All sodenly allarme , allarme , they crye , And hote conflict began for to aryse Betwene our armie and our enemyes : For either part would haue the victorye . A while they did with equall force maintaine The bloudy fight , at last the Gréekes do flie , Of whom could hardly any one escape , For in such hugie heapes our men them slew . The ground was couerde all with carcases : And of our souldiers , some gan spoyle the dead , Some other were that parted out the pray , And some pursuing . Antigone toke vp The Queene Iocasta , and the brethren both , Whom in a chariot hither they will bring Ere long : and thus , although we gotten haue The victory ouer our enemies , Yet haue we lost much more than we haue wonne . Creon exit . Cho. O hard mishap , we doe not onely heare The wearie newes of their vntimely death , But eke we must with wayling eyes beholde Their bodies deade , for loke where they be brought .

Scena . 3. ANTIGONE . CHORVS . MOst bitter plaint , O ladyes , vs behoues Behoueth eke not onely bitter plainte , But that our heares dysheuylde from our heades About our shoulders hang , and that our brests With bouncing blowes be all be battered , Our gastly faces with our nayles defaced : Behold , your Quéene twixt both hir sonnes lyes slayne , The Quéene whom you did loue and honour both , The Quéene that did so tenderly bring vp And nourishe you , eche one like to hir owne , Now hath she left you all ( O cruell hap ) With hir too cruell death in dying dreade , Pyning with pensifenesse without all helpe . O weary life , why bydste thou in my breast And I contented be that these mine eyes Should sée hir dye that gaue to me this life , And I not venge hir death by losse of life ? Who can me giue a fountaine made of mone , That I may weepe as muche as is my will , To sowsse this sorow vp in swelling teares ? Cho. What stony hart could leaue for to lament ? Anti. O Polinice , now hast thou with thy bloud Bought all too deare the title to this realme , That cruell he Eteocles thée refte , And now also hath rest thée of thy life , Alas , what wicked dede can wrath not doe ? And out alas for mee . Whyle thou yet liuedst , I had a liuely hope To haue some noble wight to be my phéere , By whome I might be crownde a royall Quéene : But now , thy hastie death hath done to dye This dying hope of mine , that hope hencefoorth None other wedlocke , but tormenting woe , If so these trembling hands for cowarde dread Dare not presume to ende this wretched life . Cho. Alas deare dame , let not thy raging griefe Heape one mishap vpon anothers head . Anti. O dolefull day , wherein my sory sire Was borne , and yet O more vnhappie houre When he was crowned king of stately Thebes The Hymenei in vnhappie bed , And wicked wedlocke , wittingly did ioyne , The giltlesse mother with hir giltie sonne , Out of which roote we be the braunches borne , To beare the scourge of their so foule offence : And thou , O father , thou that for this facte , Haste torne thine eyes from thy tormented head , Giue eare to this , come foorth , and bende thine eare To bloudie newes , that canst not them beholde : Happie in that , for if thine eyes could sée Thy sonnes bothe slayne , and euen betwéene them bothe Thy wife and mother dead , bathed and imbrude All in one bloud , then wouldst thou dye for dole , And so might ende all our vnluckie stocke . But most vnhappie nowe , that lacke of sighte Shall linger life within thy lucklesse brest , And still tormented in suche miserie , Shall alwayes dye , bicause thou canst not dye . Oedipus entreth .

Scena . 4. OEDIPVS . ANTIGONE . CHORVS . WHy dost thou call out of this darkesome denne , ( The lustleste lodge of my lamenting yeres , ) ( O daughter deare ) thy fathers blinded eyes , Into the light I was not worthy of ? Or what suche sight ( O cruell destenie ) Without tormenting cares might I beholde , That image am of deathe and not of man ? Anti. O father mine , I bring vnluckie newes Vnto your eares , your sonnes are nowe both slayne , Ne doth your wife ( that wonted was to guyde So piteously your staylesse stumbling steppes ) Now sée this light , alas and welaway . Oed. O heape of infinite calamities , And canst thou yet encrease when I thought least That any griefe more great could grow in thée ? But tell me yet , what kinde of cruell death Had these thrée sory soules ? Anti. Without offence to speake , deare father mine , The lucklesse lotte , the frowarde frowning fate That gaue you life to ende your fathers life , Haue ledde your sonnes to reaue eche others life . Oed. Of them I thought no lesse , but tell me yet What causelesse death hath caught from me my deare , ( What shall I call hir ) mother or my wife ? Anti. When as my mother sawe hir deare sonnes dead , As pensiue pangs had prest hir tender heart , With bloudlesse chéekes and gastly lookes she fell , Drawing the dagger from Eteocles side , She gorde hirselfe with wide recurelesse wounde : And thus , without mo words , gaue vp the ghost , Embracing both hir sonnes with both hir armes . In these affrightes this frosen heart of mine , By feare of death maynteines my dying life . Cho. This drearie day is cause of many euils , Poore Oedipus , vnto thy progenie , The Gods yet graunt it may become the cause Of better happe to this afflicted realme .

Scena . 5. CREON. OEDIPVS . ANTIGONE . GOod Ladies leaue your bootelesse vayne complaynt , Leaue to lament , cut off your wofull cryes , High time it is as now for to prouide The funerals for the renowmed king : And thou Oedipus hearken to my wordes , And know thus muche , that for thy daughters dower , Antigone with Hemone shall be wedde . Thy sonne our king not long before his death Assigned hath the kingdome should descende To me , that am his mothers brother borne , And so the same might to my sonne succéede . Now I that am the lorde and king of Thebes , Will not permit that thou abide therein : Ne maruell yet of this my heady will , Ne blame thou me , for why , the heauens aboue ( Which onely rule the rolling life of man , ) Haue so ordeynde , and that my words be true , Tyresias he that knoweth things to come , By trustie tokens hath foretolde the towne , That while thou didst within the walles remayne , It should be plagned still with penurie : Wherfore departe , and thinke not that I speake These wofull wordes for hate I beare to thée , But for the weale of this afflicted realme . Oedipus . O foule accursed fate , that hast me bredde To beare the burthen of the miserie Of this colde death , which we accompt for life : Before my birth my father vnderstoode I should him slea , and scarcely was I borne , When he me made a pray for sauage beastes . But what ? I slew him yet , then caught the crowne , And last of all defilde my mothers bedde , By whom I haue this wicked ofspring got : And to this heinous crime and filthy facte The heauens haue from highe enforced me , Agaynst whose doome no counsell can preuayle . Thus hate I now my life , and last of all , Lo by the newes of this so cruell death Of bothe my sonnes and deare beloued wife , Mine angrie constellation me commaundes Withouten eyes to wander in mine age , When these my wéery , weake , and crooked limme : Haue greatest néede to craue their quiet rest . O cruell Creon , wilt thou slea me so , For cruelly thou doste but murther me , Out of my kingdome now to chase me thus : Yet can I not with humble minde beséeche Thy curtesie , ne fall before thy féete . Let fortune take from me these worldly giftes , She can not conquere this courageous heart , That neuer yet could well be ouercome , To force me yéelde for feare to villanie : Do what thou canst I will be Oedipus . Cre. So hast thou reason Oedipus , to say , And for my parte I would thée counsell eke , Still to maynteine the high and hawtie minde , That hath bene euer in thy noble heart : For this be sure , if thou wouldst kisse these knées , And practise eke by prayer to preuayle , No pitie coulde persuade me to consent That thou remayne one onely houre in Thebes . And nowe , prepare you worthie Citizens , The funeralls that duely doe pertayne Vnto the Quéene , and to Eteocles , And eke for them prouide their stately tombes . But Pollynice , as common enimie Vnto his countrey , carrie foorth his corps Out of the walles , ne none so hardie be On peine of death his bodie to engraue , But in the fieldes let him vnburied lye , Without his honour , and without complaynte , An open praie for sauage beastes to spoyle . And thou Antigone , drie vp thy teares , Plucke vp thy sprites , and chéere thy harmelesse hearte To mariage : for ere these two dayes passe , Thou shalt espouse Hemone myne onely heire . Antig. Father , I sée vs wrapt in endlesse woe , And nowe muche more doe I your state lamente , Than these that nowe be dead , not that I thinke Theyr greate missehappes too little to bewayle , But this , that you ( you onely ) doe surpasse All wretched wightes that in this worlde remayne . But you my Lorde , why banishe you with wrong My father thus out of his owne perforce ? And why will you denye these guiltlesse bones Of Polinice , theyr graue in countrey soyle ? Creon . So would not I , so woulde Eteocles . Anti. He cruel was , you fonde to hold his hestes . Creon . Is then a fault to doe a kings commaund ? Anti. When his commaunde is cruell and vniust . Creon . Is it vniust that he vnburied be ? Anti. He not deseru'd so cruel punishment . Creon . He was his countreys cruell enimie . Anti. Or else was he that helde him from his right . Cre. Bare he not armes against his natiue land ? Anti. Offendeth he that sekes to winne his owne ? Cre. In spite of thée he shall vnburied be . Anti. In spite of thée these hands shall burie him . Cre. And with him eke then will I burie thée . Anti. So graunt the gods , I get none other graue , Then with my Polinices deare to rest . Cre. Go sirs , lay holde on hir , and take hir in . Anti. I will not leaue this corps vnburied . Cre. Canst thou vndoe the thing that is decréed ? Anti. A wicked foule decrée to wrong the dead . Cre. The ground ne shall ne ought to couer him . Anti. Creon , yet I beseche thée for the loue , Cre. Away I say , thy prayers not preuaile . Anti. That thou didst beare Iocasta in hir life , Cre. Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind . Anti. Yet graunt me leaue to washe his wounded corps . Cre. It can not be that I should graunt thée so . Anti. O my deare Polinice , this tirant yet She sheweth the frutes of true kyndly loue . With all his worongfull force can not fordoe , But I will kisse these colde pale lippes of thine , And washe thy wounds with my waymenting teares . Cre. O simple wench , O fonde and foolishe girle , Beware , beware , thy teares do not foretell Some signe of hard mishap vnto thy mariage . Anti. No , no , for Hemone will I neuer wed . Cre. Dost thou refuse the mariage of my sonne ? Anti. I will nor him , nor any other wed . Cre. Against thy will then must I thée constraine . Anti. If thou me force , I sweare thou shalt repent . Cre. What canst thou cause that I should once repent ? Anti. With bloudy knife I can this knot vnknit . Cre. And what a foole were thou to kill thy selfe ? Anti. I will ensue some worthie womans steppes . Cre. Speake out Antigone , that I may heare . Anti. This hardie hande shall soone dispatch his life . Cre. O simple foole , and darste thou be so bolde ? Anti. Why should I dread to do so doughtie déed ? Cre. And wherfore dost thou wedlocke so despise ? Anti. In cruel exile for to folow him . pointing to Oedipus Cre. What others might beséeme , beséemes not thée . Anti. If néede require with him eke will I die . Cre. Departe , departe , and with thy father die , Rather than kill my childe with bloudie knife : Go hellish monster , go out of the towne . Creon exit . Oed. Daughter , I must commende thy noble heart . Anti. Father , The duty of a childe truly perfourmed . I will not liue in companie And you alone wander in wildernesse . Oed. O yes deare daughter , leaue thou me alone Amid my plagues : be merrie while thou maist . Anti. And who shal guide these aged féete of yours , That banisht bene , in blinde necessitie ? Oed. I will endure , as fatal lot me driues : Resting these crooked sorie sides of mine Where so the heauens shall lend me harborough . And in exchange of rich and stately towers , The woodes , the wildernesse , the darkesome dennes , Shall be the bowre of mine vnhappie bones . Anti. O father now where is your glorie gone ? " Oed. " One happie day did raise me to renoune , " One haplesse day hath throwne mine honour doune . Anti. Yet will I beare a part of your mishappes . Oed. That sitteth not amid thy pleasant yeares . " Anti. Deare father yes , let youth giue place to age . Oed. Where is thy moother ? let me touch hir face , That with these handes I may yet féele the harme That these blinde eyes forbid me to beholde . Anti. Here father , here hir corps , here put your hande . Oed. O wife , O moother , O both wofull names , O wofull mother , and O wofull wyfe , O woulde to God , alas , O woulde to God Thou nere had bene my mother , nor my wyfe . But where lye nowe the paled bodies two , Of myne vnluckie sonnes , Oh where be they ? Anti. Lo here they lye one by an other deade . Oedip. Stretch out this hand , dere daughter , stretch this hande Vpon their faces . Anti. Loe father , here , lo , nowe you touche them both . Oedi. O bodies deare , O bodies dearely boughte Vnto your father , bought with high missehap . Anti. O louely name of my deare Pollinice , Why can I not of cruell Creon craue , Ne with my death nowe purchase thée a graue ? Oedi. Nowe commes Apollos oracle to passe , That I in Athens towne should end my dayes : And since thou doest , O daughter myne , desire In this exile to be my wofull mate , Lende mée thy hande , and let vs goe togither . Anti. Loe , here all prest my deare beloued father , A féeble guyde , and eke a simple scowte , To passe the perills in a doubtfull waye . Oedi. Vnto the wretched , be a wretched guyde . Anti. In this all onely equall to my father . Oedi. And where shall I sette foorth my trembling féete ? O reache mée yet some surer staffe , to steye My staggryng pace amidde these wayes vnknowne . Anti. She giueth him a staffe , and stayeth hym hir self also . Here father here , and here set forth your féete . Oedi. Nowe can I blame none other for my harmes But secrete spight of foredecréed fate , Thou arte the cause , that crooked , olde and blynde , I am exilde farre from my countrey soyle , And suffer dole that I ought not endure . " Anti. O father , father , Iustice lyes on sléepe , " Ne doth regarde the wrongs of wretchednesse , " Ne princes swelling pryde it doth redresse . Iustice sleepeth . Oedi. O carefull raytife , howe am I nowe changd From that I was ? I am that Oedipus , A Glasse for brittel Beutie and for iusty limmes . That whylome had triumphant victorie , And was bothe dread and honored eke in Thebes : But nowe ( so pleaseth you my frowarde starres ) Downe headlong hurlde in depth of myserie , So that remaynes of Oedipus no more As nowe in mée , but euen the naked name , And lo , this image , that resembles more Shadowes of death , than shape of Oedipus . Antig. O father , nowe forgette the pleasaunt dayes And happie lyfe that you did whylom leade , The muse whereof redoubleth but you griefe : Susteyne the smarte of these your present paynes With pacience , that best may you preserue . Lo where I come , to liue and die with you , Not ( as sometymes ) the daughter of a king , But as an abiect nowe in pouertie , That you , by presence of suche faithfull guide , May better beare the wrecke of miserie . Oedi. O onely comforte of my cruell happe . Anti. Your daughters pitie is but due to you ? Woulde God I might as well ingraue the corps Of my deare Pollinice , but I ne maye , And that I can not , doubleth all my do●e . Oedi. This thy desire , that is both good and iuste , Imparte to some that be thy trustie frendes , Who movde with pitie , maye procure the same . " Anti. Beléeue me father , when dame fortune frownes , " Be fewe that fynde trustie companions . Oedi. And of those fewe , yet one of those am I : Wherefore , goe we nowe daughter , leade the waye Into the stonie rockes and highest hilles , Where fewest trackes of steppings may be spyde . " Who once hath sit in chaire of dignitie , " May shame to shewe himself in miserie . Anti. From thée , O countrey , am I forst to parte , Despoiled thus in flower of my youth , And yet I leaue within my enimies rule , Ismene my infortunate sister . Oed. Deare citizens , beholde your Lord and King A mirrour for Magistrates . That Thebes set in quiet gouernment , Now as you sée , neglected of you all , And in these ragged ruthfull wéedes bewrapt , Ychased from his natiue countrey soyle , Betakes himself ( for so this tirant will ) To euerlasting banishment : but why Do I lament my lucklesse lot in vaine ? " Since euery man must beare with quiet minde , " The fate that heauens haue earst to him assignde . CHORVS . EXample here , loe take by Oedipus , You Kings and Princes in prosperitie , And euery one that is desirous To sway the seate of worldlie dignitie , How fickle t is to trust in Fortunes whele : For him whome now she hoyseth vp on hie , If so he chaunce on any side to réele , She hurles him downe in twinkling of an eye : And him againe , that grovleth nowe on ground , And lieth lowe in dungeon of dispaire , Hir whirling whéele can heaue vp at a bounde , And place aloft in stay of statelie chaire . As from the Sunne the Moone withdrawes hir face , So might of man doth yéelde dame Fortune place . Finis Actus quinti. Done by G. Gascoigne .

Epilogus . LO here the fruit of high aspiring minde , Who wéenes to mount aboue the moouing Skies : Lo here the trap that titles proud do finde , Sée , ruine growes , when most we reach to rise : Sweete is the name , and statelie is the raigne Of kinglie rule , and swey of royall seate , But bitter is the tast of Princes gaine , When climbing heades do hunte for to be great . Who would forecast the banke of restlesse toyle , Ambitious wightes do freight their brestes withall , The growing cares , the feares of dreadfull foyle , To yll successe that on such flightes doth fall , He would not streyne his practize to atchieue The largest limits of the mightiest states . But oh , what fansies swéete do still relieue The hungrie humor of these swelling hates ? What poyson swéet inflameth high desire ? Howe soone the hautie heart is pufft with pride ? Howe soone is thirst of sceptre set on fire ? Howe soone in rising mindes doth mischief slide ? What bloudie sturres doth glut of honor bréede ? Th ambitious sonne doth oft surpresse his sire : Where natures power vnfained loue should spread , There malice raignes and reacheth to be higher . O blinde vnbridled search of Souereintie , O tickle traine of euill attayned state , O fonde desire of princelie dignitie , Who climbes too soone , he ofte repentes too late . The golden meane , the happie doth suffise , They leade the posting day in rare delight , They fill ( not féede ) their vncontented eyes , They reape such rest as doth beguile the might , They not enuie the pompe of haughtie traine , Ne dreade the dinte of proude vsurping swoorde , But plaste alowe , more sugred ioyes attaine , Than swaye of loftie Scepter can afoorde . Cease to aspire then , cease to soare so hie , And shunne the plague that pierceth noble breastes . To glittring courtes what fondnesse is to flie , When better state in baser Towers rests ? Finis Epilogi . Done by Chr. Yeluerton .

NOte ( Reader ) that there were in Thebes fowre principall gates , wherof the chief and most commonly vsed were the gates called Electrae and the gates Homoloydes . Thys I haue thought good to explane : as also certen words which are not common in vse are noted and expounded in the margent . I did begin those notes at request of a gentlewoman who vnderstode not poëtycall words or termes . I trust those and the rest of my notes throughout the booke , shall not be hurtfull to any Reader .

❧ The Frute of reconciliation , Written vppon a reconciliation betwene two freendes . THe hatefull man that heapeth in his mynde , Cruell reuenge of wronges forepast and done , May not ( with ease ) the pleasaunt pathway finde , Of friendly verse which I haue now begone , Vnlesse at first his angry brest vntwinde , The crooked knot which canckred choller knit , And then recule with reconciled grace . Likewise I finde it sayde in holy write , If thou entend to turne thy fearefull face , To God aboue : make thyne agréement yet , First with thy Brother whom thou didst abuse , Confesse thy faultes , thy frowardnesse and all , So that the Lord thy prayer not refuse . When I consider this , and then the brall , Which raging youth ( I will not me excuse ) Did whilome breede in mine vnmellowed brayne , I thought it méete before I did assay , To write in ryme the double golden gayne , Of amitie : first yet to take away The grutch of grief , as thou doest me constrayne . By due desert whereto I now must yéeld , And drowne for aye in depth of Lethes lake , Disdaynefull moodes whom frendship cannot wéelde : Pleading for peace which for my parte I make Of former strife , and henceforth let vs write The pleasant fruites of faythfull friends delight . Si fortunatus infoelix .

Two gentlemen did run three courses at the Ring for one kisse to be taken of a fair gentlewoman being then present , with this condicion , that the winner should haue the kisse , and the loser be bound to write some verses vpon the gaine or losse therof . Now it fortuned that the winner triumphed , saying , he much lamented that in youth he had not seen the warres . Wherevpon the loser compyled these following , in discharge of the condition aboue rehearsed . THis vaine auaile which thou by Mars hast woonne , Should not allure thy flitting minde to feelde , Where sturdie stéeds in depth of dangers roonne , By guttes welgnawen by clappes that Canons yéelde . Where faithlesse friendes by warrefare waxen ware , And runne to him that giueth best rewarde : No feare of lawes can cause them for to care , But robbe and reaue , and steale without regarde , The fathers coate , the brothers stéede from stall : The deare friendes purse shall picked be for pence , The natiue soile , the parentes left and all , With Tant tra tant , the Campe is marching hence . But when bare beggrie bidds them to beware , And late repentance rules them to retire , Like hiuelesse Bées they wander here and there , And hang on them who ( earst ) did dreade their ire . This cut throto life ( me séemes ) thou shouldst not like , And shunne the happie hauen of meane estate : High Ioue ( perdy ) may sende what thou doest séeke , And heape vp poundes within thy quiet gate . Nor yet I would that thou shouldst spende thy dayes In idlenesse to teare a golden time : Like countrey loutes , which compt none other praise , But grease a sheepe , and learne to serue the swine . In vaine were then the giftes which nature lent , If Pan so presse to passe dame Pallas lore : But my good friende , let thus thy youth be spent , Serue God thy Lord , and prayse him euermore . Search out the skill which learned bookes do teach , And serue in féeld when shadowes make thée sure : Hold with the head , and row not past thy reach . But plead for peace which plenty may procure . And ( for my life ) if thou canst run this race , Thy bagges of coyne will multiply apace . Si fortunatus infoelix .

Not long after the writing hereof : he departed from the company of his sayd friend ( whom he entirely loued ) into the west of Englande , and feeling himselfe so consumed by womens craft that he doubted of a safe returne : wrote before his departure as followeth . THe féeble thred which Lachesis hath sponne , To drawe my dayes in short abode with thée , Hath wrought a webbe which now ( welneare ) is donne , The wale is worne : and ( all to late ) I sée That lingring life doth dally but in vaine , For Atropos will cut the twist in twaine . I not discerne what life but lothsome were , When faithfull friends are kept in twayne by want : Nor yet perceiue what pleasure doth appéere , To déepe desires where good successe is skant . Such spight yet showes dame fortune ( if she frowne , ) The haughty harts in high mishaps to drowne . Hot be the flames which boyle in friendly mindes , Cruell the care and dreadfull is the doome : Slipper the knot which tract of time vntwynds , Hatefull the life and welcome were the toome . Blest were the day which might deuoure such youth , And curst the want that séekes to choke such trueth . This wayling verse I bathe in flowing teares , And would my life might end with these my lines : Yer striue I not to force into thine eares , Such fayned plaints as fickell faith resignes . But high forsight in dreames hath stopt my breath , And causde the Swanne to sing before his death . For lo these naked walles do well declare , My latest leaue of thée I taken haue : And vnknowen coastes which I must séeke with care Do well diuine that there shal be my graue : There shall my death make many for to mone , Skarce knowne to them , well knowne to thee alone . This bowne of thée ( as last request ) I craue , When true report shall sounde my death with fame : Vouchsafe yet then to go vnto my graue , And there first write my byrth and then my name : And how my life was shortned many yeares , By womens wyles as to the world appeares . And in reward of graunt to this request , Permit O God my toung these woordes to tell : ( When as his pen shall write vpon my chest ) With shriking voyce mine owne deare friend farewell : No care on earth did séeme so much to me , As when my corps was forst to part from thée . Si fortunatus infoelix .

He wrote to the same friend from Excester , this Sonet following . A Hundreth sonnes ( in course but not in kind ) Can witnesse well that I possesse no ioye : The feare of death which fretteth in my mind Consumes my hart with dread of darke anoye . And for eche sonne a thousand broken sléepes Deuide my dreames with fresh recourse of cares : The youngest sister sharpe hir sheare she kéepes , To cut my thred , and thus my life it weares . Yet let such daies , such thousand restlesse nights , Spit forth their spite , let fates eke showe their force : Deathes daunting dart where so his buffet lights , Shall shape no change within my friendly corse : But dead or liue , in heauen , in earth , in hell I wil be thine where so my carkase dwell . Si fortunatus infoelix .

He wrote to the same friend from Founteine belle eaü in Fraunce , this Sonnet in commendation of the said house of Fountaine bel'eaü . NOt stately Troye though Priam yet did liue , Could now compare Founteine bel'eaü to passe : Nor Syrian towers , whose loftie steppes did striue , To climbe the throne where angry Saturne was . For outward shew the ports are of such price , As skorne the cost which Cesar spilt in Roome : Such works within as stayne the rare deuise , Which whilome he Apelles wrought on toome . Swift Tiber floud which fed the Romayne pooles , Puddle to this where Christall melts in streames , The pleasaunt place where Muses kept their schooles , ( Not parcht with Phoebe , nor banisht from his beames ) Yeeld to those Dames , nor sight , nor fruite , nor smell , Which may be thought these gardens to excell . Si fortunatus infoelix .

He wrote vnto a Skotish Dame whom he chose for his Mistresse in the French Court , as followeth . LAdy receyue , receiue in gracious wise , This ragged verse , these rude ill skribled lines : Too base an obiect for your heauenly eyes , For he that writes his fréedome ( lo ) resignes Into your handes : and fréely yéelds as thrall His sturdy necke ( earst subiect to no yoke ) But bending now , and headlong prest to fall , Before your féete , such force hath beauties stroke . Since then mine eyes ( which skornd our English ) dames In forrayne courtes haue chosen you for fayre , Let be this verse true token of my flames , And do not drench your owne in déepe dispayre . Onely I craue ( as I nill change for new ) That you vouchsafe to thinke your seruaunt trew . Si fortunatus infoelix .

A Sonet written in prayse of the browne beautie , compiled for the loue of Mistresse E. P. as foloweth . THe thristles thred which pampred beauty spinnes , In thraldom binds the foolish gazing eyes : As cruell Spiders with their crafty ginnes , In worthlesse webbes doe snare the simple Flies . The garments gay , the glittring golden gite , The tysing talk which flowes from Pallas pooles : The painted pale , the ( too much ) red made white , Are smiling baytes to fishe for louing fooles . But lo , when eld in toothlesse mouth appeares , And hoary heares in stéede of beauties blaze : Than had I wist , doth teach repenting yeares , The tickle track of craftie Cupides maze . Twixt faire and foule therfore , twixt great and small , A louely nuthrowne face is best of all . Si fortunatus infoelix .

Now to begin with another man , take these verses written to be sent with a ryng , wherein were engraued a Partrich in a Merlines foote . THe Partridge in the pretie Mertines foote , Who féeles hir force supprest with fearfulnesse , And findes that strength nor strife can do hir boote , To scape the danger of hir déepe distresse : These wofull wordes may séeme for to reherse Which I must write in this waymenting verse . What helpeth now ( sayeth she ) dame natures skill , To die my feathers like the dustie ground ? Or what preuayles to lend me winges at will Which in the ayre can make my bodie bound ? Since from the earth the dogges me draue perforce , And now aloft the Hauke hath caught my corse . If chaunge of colours , could not me conuey , Yet mought my wings haue scapt the dogges despite : And if my wings did fayle to flie away , Yet mought my strength resist the Merlines might . But nature made the Merline mée to kill , And me to yéeld vnto the Merlines will . My lot is like ( déere Dame ) beleue me well , The quiet life which I full closely kept . Was not content in happie state to dwell , But forth in hast to gaze on thée it lept . Desire thy dogge did spring me vp in hast , Thou wert the Hauke , whose tallents caught me fast . What should I then , séeke meanes to flie away ? Or striue by force , to breake out of thy féete ? No , no , perdie , I may no strength assay , To striue with thée ywis , it were not méete . Thou art that Hauke , whom nature made to hent me , And I the Byrd , that must therewith content me . And since Dame nature hath ordayned so , Hir happie hest I gladly shall embrace : I yéeld my will , although it were to wo , I stand content to take my griefe for grace : And seale it vp within my secrete hart , Which seale receiue , as token of my smart . Spraeta tamen viuunt .

A louing Lady being wounded in the spring time , and now galded eftsones with the remembrance of the spring , doth therfore thus bewayle . THis tenth of March when Aries receyud Dame Phoebus rayes , into his horned head : And I my selfe , by learned lore perceyu'd , That Ver approcht , and frostie winter fled . I crost the Thames , to take the cherefull ayre , In open féeldes , the weather was so fayre . And as I rowed , fast by the further shore , I heard a voyce , which séemed to lament : Whereat I stay'd , and by a stately dore , I left my Boate , and vp on land I went : Till at the last by lasting paine I found , The wofull wight , which made this dolefull sound . In pleasant garden ( placed all alone ) I sawe a Dame , who sat in weary wise , With scalding sighes , she vttred all hir mone , The ruefull teares , downe rayned from hir eyes : Hir lowring head , full lowe on hand she layed , On knée hir arme : and thus this Lady sayed . Alas ( quod she ) behold eche pleasaunt gréene , Will now renew , his sommers liuery , The fragrant flowers , which haue not long bene séene , Will florish now , ( ere long ) in brauery : The tender buddes , whom colde hath long kept in , Will spring and sproute , as they do now begin . But I ( alas ) within whose mourning minde , The graffes of grief , are onely giuen to growe , Cannot enioy the spring which others finde , But still my will , must wither all in woe : The cold of care , so nippes my ioyes at roote , No sunne doth shine , that well can do them boote . The lustie Ver , which whilome might exchange My griefe to ioy , and then my ioyes encrease , Springs now else where , and showes to me but strange , My winters woe , therefore can neuer cease : In other coasts , his sunne full cleare doth shine , And comforts lends to eu'ry mould but mine . What plant can spring , that féeles no force of Ver ? What floure can florish , where no sunne doth shine ? These Bales ( quod she ) within my breast I beare , To breake my barke , and make my pith to pine : Néedes must I fall , I fade both roote and rinde , My braunches bowe at blast of eu'ry winde . This sayed : shée cast a glance and spied my face , By sight whereof , Lord how she chaunged hew ? So that for shame , I turned backe a pace And to my home , my selfe in hast I drew : And as I could hir woofull wordes reherse , I set them downe in this waymenting verse . Now Ladies you , that know by whom I sing , And feele the winter , of such frozen wills : Of curtesie , yet cause this noble spring , To send his sunne , aboue the highest hilles : And so to shyne , vppon hir fading sprayes , Which now in woe , do wyther thus alwayes . Spraeta tamen viuunt .

An absent Dame thus complayneth . MVch like the séely Byrd , which close in Cage is pent , So sing I now , not notes of ioye , but layes of déepe lament . And as the hooded Hauke , which heares the Partrich spring , Who though she féele hir self fast tied , yet beats hir bating wing : So striue I now to shewe , my feeble forward will , Although I know my labour lost , to hop against the Hill. The droppes of darke disdayne , did neuer drench my hart , For well I know I am belou'd , if that might ease my smart . Ne yet the priuy coales , of glowing iellosie , Could euer kindle néedlesse feare , within my fantasie . The rigor of repulse , doth not renew my playnt , Nor choyce of change doth moue my mone , nor force me thus to faint . Onely that pang of payne , which passeth all the rest , And cankerlike doth fret the hart , within the giltlesse brest . Which is if any bee , most like the panges of death , That present grief now gripeth me , & striues to stop my breath . When friendes in mind may méete , and hart in hart embrace , And absent yet are faine to playne , for lacke of time and place : Then may I compt , their loue like séede , that soone is sowen , Yet lacking droppes of heauenvly dew , with wéedes is ouergrowen . The Greyhound is agréeu'd , although he sée his game , If stil in slippe he must be stayde , when he would chase the same . So fares it now by me , who know my selfe belou'd Of one the best , in eche respect , that euer yet was prou'd . But since my lucklesse lot , forbids me now to taste , The dulcet fruites of my delight , therfore in woes I wast . And Swallow like I sing , as one enforced so , Since others reape the gaineful crop , which I with pain did sow . Yet you that marke my song , excuse my Swallowes voyce , And beare with hir vnpleasant tunes , which cannot wel reioyce . Had I or lucke in loue , or lease of libertie , Then should you heare some swéeter notes , so cléere my throte would be . But take it thus in grée , and marke my playnsong well , No hart féeles so much hurt , as that , which doth in absence dwell . Spraeta tamen viuunt .

In prayse of a Countesse . DEsire of Fame would force my féeble skill , To prayse a Countesse by hir dew desert : But dread of blame holds backe my forward will , And quencht the coales which kindled in my hart . Thus am I plongd twene dread and déepe desire , To pay the dew which dutie doth require . And when I call the mighty Gods in ayd To further forth some fine inuention : My bashefull spirits be full ill afrayd To purchase payne by my presumption . Such malice reignes ( sometimes ) in heauenly minds , To punish him that prayseth as he finds . For Pallas first , whose filed flowing skill , Should guyde my pen some pleasant words to write , With angry mood hath fram'd a froward will , To dashe deuise as oft as I endite . For why ? if once my Ladies gifts were knowne , Pallas should loose the prayses of hir owne . And bloudy Mars by chaunge of his delight Hath made Ioues daughter now mine enemie : In whose conceipt my Countesse shines so bright , That Venus pines for burning ielousie : She may go home to Vulcane now agayne , For Mars is sworne to be my Ladies swayne . Of hir bright beames Dan Phoebus stands in dread , And shames to shine within our Horizon : Dame Cynthia holds in hir horned head , For feare to loose by like comparison : Lo thus shée liues , and laughes them all to skorne , Countesse on earth , in heauen a Goddesse borne . And I sometimes hir seruaunt , now hir friend , Whom heauen and earth for hir ( thus ) hate and blame : Haue yet presume in friendly wise to spend , This ragged verse , in honor of hir name : A simple gift compared by the skill , Yet what may séeme so déere as such good will . Meritum petere , graue .

The Louer declareth his affection , togither with the cause thereof . WHen first I thée beheld in colours black and white , Thy face in forme wel framde with fauor blooming stil : My burning brest in cares did choose his chief delight , With pen to painte thy prayse , contrary to my skill : Whose worthinesse compar'd with this my rude deuise , I blush and am abasht , this worke to enterprise . But when I call to mind thy sundry gifts of grace , Full fraught with maners méeke in happy quiet mind : My hasty hand forthwith doth scribble on apace , Least willing hart might thinke , it ment to come behind : Thus do both hand and hart these carefull méetres vse , Twixt hope and trembling feare , my duetie to excuse . Wherfore accept these lines , and banish darke disdayne , Be sure they come from one that loueth thée in chief : And guerdon me thy friend in like with loue agayne , So shalt thou well be sure to yéeld me such relief , As onely may redresse my sorrowes and my smart : For proofe whereof I pledge ( deare Dame ) to thée my hart . Meritum petere , graue .

A Lady being both wronged by false suspect , and also wounded by the durance of hir husband , doth thus bewray hir grief . GIue me my Lute in bed now as I lie , And lock the doores of mine vnluckie bower : So shall my voyce in mournefull verse discrie The secrete smart which causeth me to lower : Resound you walles an Eccho to my mone , And thou cold bed wherein I lie alone , Beare witnesse yet what rest thy Lady takes , When other sléepe which may enioy their makes . In prime of youth when Cupide kindled fire , And warmd my will with flames of feruent loue : To further forth the fruite of my desire , My fréends deuisde this meane for my behoue . They made a match according to my mind , And cast a snare my fansie for to blind : Short tale to make : the déede was almost donne , Before I knew which way the worke begonne . And with this lot I did my selfe content , I lent a liking to my parents choyse : With hand and hart I gaue my frée consent , And hung in hope for euer to reioyce . I liu'd and lou'd long time in greater ioy , Than shée which held king Priams sonne of Troy : But thrée lewd lots haue chang'd my heauen to hell And those be these , giue eare and marke them well . First slaunder he , which alwayes beareth hate , To happy harts in heauenly state that bide : Gan play his part to stirre vp some debate , Whereby suspect into my choyse might glide . And by his meanes the slime of false suspect , Did ( as I feare ) my dearest friend infect . Thus by these twayn long was I plungd in paine , Yet in good hope my hart did still remaine . But now ( aye me ) the greatest grief of all , ( Sound loud my Lute , and tell it out my toong ) The hardest hap that euer might befall , The onely cause wherfore this song is soong , Is this alas : my loue , my Lord , my Roy , My chosen pheare , my gemme , and all my ioye , Is kept perforce out of my dayly sight , Whereby I lacke the stay of my delight . In loftie walles , in strong and stately towers , ( With troubled minde in solitary sorte , ) My louely Lord doth spend his dayes and howers , A weary life deuoyde of all disport . And I poore soule must lie here all alone , To tyre my trueth , and wound my will with mone : Such is my hap to shake my blooming time , With winters blastes before it passe the prime . Now haue you heard the summe of all my grief , Whereof to tell my hart ( oh ) rends in twayne : Good Ladies yet lend you me some relief , And beare a parte to ease me of my payne . My sortes are such , that waying well my trueth , They might prouoke the craggy rocks to rueth , And moue these walles with teares for to lament , The lothsome life wherein my youth is spent . But thou my Lute , be still , now take thy rest , Repose thy bones vppon this bed of downe : Thou hast dischargd some burden from my brest , Wherefore take thou my place , herelie thée downe . And let me walke to tyre my restlesse minde , Vntill I may entreate some curteous winde To blow these wordes vnto my noble make , That he may sée I sorow for his sake . Meritum petere , graue .

A Riddle . A Lady once did aske of me , This preatie thing in priuitie : Good sir ( quod she ) faine would I craue , One thing which you your selfe not haue : Nor neuer had yet in times past , Nor neuer shall while life doth last . And if you séeke to find it out , You loose your labour out of doubt : Yet if you loue me as you say , Then giue it me , for sure you may . Meritum petere , graue .

The shield of Loue . &c. L'Escü d'amour , the shield of perfect loue , The shield of loue , the force of stedfast faith , The force of faith which neuer will remoue , But standeth fast , to bide the brunts of death : That trustie targe , hath long borne off the blowes , And broke the thrusts , which absence at me throwes . In dolefull dayes I lead an absent life , And wound my will with many a weary thought : I plead for peace , yet sterue in stormes of strife , I find debate , where quiet rest was sought . These panges with mo , vnto my paine I proue , Yet beare I all vppon my shield of loue . In colder cares are my conceipts consumd , Than Dido felt when false Aeneas fled : In farre more heat , than trusty Troylus fumde , When craftie Cressyde dwelt with Diomed : My hope such frost , my hot desire such flame , That I both fryse , and smoulder in the same . So that I liue , and die in one degrée , Healed by hope , and hurt againe with dread : Fast bound by faith when fansie would be frée , Vntied by trust , though thoughts enthrall my head : Reuiu'd by ioyes , when hope doth most abound , And yet with grief , in depth of dolors drownd . In these assaultes I féele my féebled force Begins to faint , thus weried still in woes : And scarcely can my thus consumed corse , Hold vp this Buckler to beare of these blowes : So that I craue , or presence for relief , Or some supplie , to ease mine absent grief . Lenuoie . To you ( deare Dame ) this dolefull plaint I make , Whose onely sight may soone redresse my smart : Then shew your selfe , and for your seruaunts sake , Make hast post hast , to helpe a faithfull harte : Mine owne poore shield hath me defended long , Now lend me yours , for elles you do me wrong . Meritum petere , graue .

A gloze vpon this text , Dominus ijs opus habet . MY recklesse race is runne , gréene youth and pride be past , My riper mellowed yeares beginne to follow on as fast . My glancing lookes are gone , which wonted were to prie In euery gorgeous garish glasse that glistred in mine eie . My sight is now so dimme , it can behold none such , No mirrour but the merrie meane , can please my fansie muche . And in that noble glasse , I take delight to view , The fashions of the wonted worlde , compared by the new . For marke who list to looke , each man is for him selfe , And beates his braine to hord & heape this trash & worldly pelfe . Our hands are closed vp , great gifts go not abroade , Few men will lend a locke of heye , but for to gaine a loade . Giue gaue is a good man , what néede we lash it out , The world is wondrous fearfull now , for danger bids men doubt . And aske how chanceth this ? or what meanes all this méede ? Forsooth the common answer is , because the Lord hath neede . A noble iest by gisse , I find it in my glasse , The same fréehold our Sauiour Christ conueyed to his asse . A text to trie the truth , and for this time full fitte , For where should we our lessons learne , but out of holy writte ? First marke our only God , which ruleth all the rost , He sets aside all pompe and pride , wherein fond wordlings boast . His traine is not so great , as filthy Sathans band , A smaller heard may serue to féede , at our great masters hand . Next marke the heathens Gods , and by them shall we sée , They be not now so good fellowes , as they were woont to be . Ioue , Mars , and Mercurie , Dame Venus and the rest , They banquet not as they were wont , they know it were not best : So kings and Princes both , haue lefte their halles at large , Their priuie chambers cost enough , they cut off euery charge : And when an office falles , as chance sometimes may be , First kéepe it close a yeare or twaine , then geld it by the fée . And giue it out at last , but yet with this prouiso , ( A bridle for a brainsicke Iade ) durante bene placito . Some thinke these ladders low , to climbe alofte with spéede : Well let them créepe at leisure then , for sure the Lord hath neede . Dukes Earles and Barons bold , haue learnt like lesson nowe , They breake vp house & come to court , they liue not by the plow. Percase their roomes be skant , not like their stately houre , A field bed in a corner coucht , a pallad on the floure . But what for that ? no force , they make thereof no boast , They féede themselues with delycates , and at the princes cost . And as for all their men , their pages and their swaynes , They choke them vp with chynes of béefe , to multiply their gaines . Thenselues lie néere to looke , when any lease doth fall , Such croomes were wont to feede poore groomes , but now the Lords licke al. And why ? oh sir , bicause , both Dukes and Lords haue néede , I mocke not I , my text is true , beleeue it as your creede . Our Prelates and our Priests , can tell this text with mée , They can hold fast their fattest fermes , and let no lease go frée . They haue both wife and childe , which may not be forgot , The scriptures say the Lord hath neede , & therfore blame them not . Then come a litle lower , vnto the countrey knight , The Squier and the Gentleman , they leaue the countrey quite , Their halles were all to large , their tables were to long , The clouted shoes came in so fast , they kepte to great a throng , And at the porters lodge , where lubbers wont to feede , The porter learnes to answere now , hence hence the Lorde hath neede . His gests came in too thicke , their diet was to great , Their horses eate vp all the hey , which should haue fed his neate : Their téeth were farre to fine , to féede on porke and souse , Fiue flocks of shéepe coulde scarce mainteine good mutton for his house . And when this count was cast , it was no biding here , Vnto the good towne is he gone , to make his friends good chéere . And welcome there that will , but shall I tell you how ? At his owne dish he féedeth them , that is the fashion now : Side bords be laid aside , the tables end is gone , His cooke shall make you noble chéere , but ostler hath he none . The chargers now be changde , wherein he wont to eate , An olde frute dish is bigge enough to holde a ioynt of meate , A sallad or a sauce , to tast your cates withall , Some strange deuise to feede mens eies , mens stomacks now be smal . And when the tenauntes come to pay a quarters rent , They bring some fowle at Midsommer , & a dish of fish in Lent , At Christmasse a capon , at Mighelmasse a goose : And somwhat else at Newyeres tide , for feare their lease flie loose . Good reason by my trouth , when Gentlemen lacke groates , Let Plowmen pinch it out for pens , and patch their russet coates : For better Formers fast , than Manour houses fall , The Lord hath néede , then says the text , bring old Asse , colt & all . Wel , lowest now at laste , let see the countrey loute , And marke how he doth swink & sweat to bring this geare about : His feastings be but fewe , cast whipstockes , cloute his shoone , The wheaten loafe is locked vp , as soone as dinners doone : And where he wonte to keepe a lubber , two or thrée , Now hath he learnd to kéepe no more but Sim his sonne and he , His wife and Mawde his mayde , a boy to pitche the carte , And turne him vp at Hallontide , to féele the winters smarte : Dame Alyson his wife doth know the pryce of meale , Hir bridecakes be not halfe so bigge as she was wont to steale : She weares no siluer hookes , she is content with w●●sse , Hir pendants and hir siluer pinnes she putteth in hir pursse . Thus learne I by my glasse , that merrie meane is best , And he most wise that finds the meane to kéepe himselfe at rest . Perchaunce some open mouth will mutter now and than , And at the market tell his mate , our landlords a zore man : He racketh vp our rentes , and kéepes the best in hand , He makes a wondrous deale of good out of his owne measne land : Yea let such pelters prate , saint Needam be their spéede , We néede no text to answer them , but this , The Lord hath neede . Euer or Neuer .

Councell to Duglasse Diue written vpon this occasion . She had a booke wherein she had collected sundry good ditties of diuers mens doings , in whiche booke she would needes entreate the aucthor to write some verses . And therevpon he wrote as followeth . TO binde a bushe of thornes amongst swéete smelling floures , May make the posie seeme the worse , and yet the fault is ours : For throw away the thorne , and marke what will ensew ? The posie then will shew it selfe , sweete , faire , and freshe of hew . A puttocke set on pearch , fast by a falcons side , Will quickly shew it selfe a kight , as time hath often tride . And in my musing minde , I feare to finde like fall , As iust reward to recompence my rash attempts withall . Thou bidst , and I must bowe , thou wilt that I shall write , Thou canst commaund my wery muse some verses to endite . And yet perdie , thy booke is fraught with learned verse , Such skill as in my musing minde I can none like reherse . What followes then for me ? but if I must néedes write , To set downe by the falcons side , my selfe a sillie kight . And yet the fillie kight , well woyde in each degrée , May serue sometimes ( as in his kinde ) for mans commoditie . The kight can wéede the worme , from corne and costly seedes , The kight can kill the mowldiwarpe , in pleasant meads the bréeds : Out of the stately stréetes , the kight can clense the filth , As men can clense the worthlesse wéedes , from fruteful fallowed tilth . And onely set aside the hennes poore progenie , I cannot see who can accuse the kight for fellonie . The falcon , she must feede on partritch , and on quayle , On pigeon , plouer , ducke & drake , hearne , lapwing , teale , & raile , Hir hungrie throte deuours both foode and deintie fare , Whereby I take occasion , thus boldly to compare . And as a sillie kight , ( not falcon like that flie , Nor yet presume to houer by mount Hellycon (a) (a) The Hill where poetes fayne th●t the Muses sleepe . on hie ) I frendly yet presume , vpon my frends request , In barreine verse to shew my skill , then take it for the best . And Douty Douglasse thou , that art of faulcons kinde , Giue willing eare yet to the kight , and beare his words in minde , Serue thou first God thy Lord , and prayse him euermore , Obey thy Prince and loue thy make , by him set greatest store . Thy Parents follow next , for honor and for awe , Thy frends vse alwaies faithfully , for so commands the lawe . Thy séemely selfe at last , thou shalte likewise regard , And of thy selfe this lesson learne , and take it as reward : That looke how farre deserts , may séeme in thée to shine , So farre thou maist set out thy selfe , without empeach or crime . For this I dare auow , without selfe loue ( alight ) It can scarce be that vertue dwell , in any earthly wight . But if in such selfe loue , thou séeme to wade so farre , As fall to foule presumption , and iudge thy selfe a starre , Beware betimes and thinke in our (a) (a) A true exposition . Etymologie , Such faults are plainly called pryde , and in french (b) (b) Querweening Surcüydrye , Lo thus can I pore kight , aduenture for to teach The falcon flie , and yet forewarne , she row not past hir reach . Thus can I wéede the worme , which seeketh to deuoure The séeds of vertue , which might grow within thée euery houre . Thus can I kill the mowle , which else would ouerthrow The good foundacion of thy fame , with euery litle blowe . And thus can I conuey , out of thy comely brest , The sluttish heapes of péeuish pride , which might defile the rest . Perchance some falcons flie , which will not greatly grutch , To learne thée first to loue thy selfe , and then to loue to mutch , But I am none of those , I list not so to range , I haue mans meate enough at home , what néed I then séeke change . I am no peacocke I : my feathers be not gay , And though they were , I sée my feete such fonde affectes to stay , I list not set to sale a thing so litle worth , I rather could kepe close my creast , than séeke to set it forth . Wherefore if in this verse , which thou commandst to flowe , Thou chaunce to fall on construing , whereby some doubtes may grow , Yet grant this onely boone , peruse it twice or thrice , Disgest it well ere thou condemne the depth of my deuise . And vse it like the nut , first cracke the outward shell , Then trie the kirnell by the tast , and it may please thée well . Do not as barbers do , which wash beards curiously , Then cut them off , then cast them out , in open stréetes to lie . Remember therewithall , my muze is tied in chaines , The goonshot of calamitie hath battred all my braynes . And though this verse scape out , take thou thereat no marke , It is but like a hedlesse flie , that tumbleth in the darke . It was thine owne request , remember so it was , Wherefore if thou dislike the same , then licence it to passe Into my brest againe , from whence it flew in hast , Full like a kight which not deserues by falcons to be plast : And like a stubbed thorne , which may not séeme to serue , To stand with such swéete smelling floures , like praises to deserue . Yet take this harmelesse thorne , to picke thy téeth withall , A tooth picke serues some vse perdie , although it be but small . And when they téeth therewith , be piked faire and cleane , Then bend thy tong no worse to me , than mine to thee hath bene . Euer or Neuer .

Councell giuen to master Bartholmew Withipoll a little before his latter iourney to Geane . 1572. MIne owne good Bat , before thou hoyse vp saile , To make a furrowe in the foming seas , Content thy selfe to heare for thine auaile , Such harmelesse words , as ought thée not displease . First in thy iourney , iape not ouer much , What ? laughest thou Batte , bicause I write so plaine ? Beléeue me now it is a friendly touch , To vse fewe words where friendship doth remaine . And for I finde , that fault hath runne to fast , Both in thy flesh , and fancie too sometime , Me thinks plaine dealing biddeth me to cast This bone at first amid my dogrell rime . But shall I say , to giue thée graue aduise ? ( Which in my head is ( God he knowes ) full geazon ) ? Then marke me well , and though I be not wise , Yet in my rime , thou maist perhaps find reason . First euery day , beséech thy God on knée , So to direct thy staggring steppes alway , That he which euery secrete thought doth sée May holde thée in , when thou wouldst goe astray : And that he deigne to sende thée safe retoure , And quicke dispatche of that whiche is thy due : Lette this ( my Batte ) be bothe thy prime and houre , Wherin also commend to Nostre Dieu , Thy good Companion and my verie frend , To whom I shoulde ( but time woulde not permitte ) Haue taken paine some ragged ryme to sende In trustie token , that I not forget His curtesie : but this is debte to thée , I promysde it , and now I meane to pay : What was I saying ? sirra , will you sée How soone my wittes were wandering astraye ? I saye , praye thou for thée and for thy mate , So shipmen sing , and though the note be playne , Yet sure the musike is in heauenly state , When frends sing so , and know not how to fayne . The nexte to GOD , thy Prince haue still in mynde There are to many of them in euery countrey . Thy countreys honor , and the common wealth : And flee from them , which fled with euery wynde From natiue soyle , to forraine coastes by stealth : Theyr traynes are trustlesse , tending still to treason , Theyr smoothed tongues are lyned all with guyle , Their power slender , scarsly woorthe two peason , Their malice much , their wittes are full of wyle : Eschue them then , and when thou séest them , say , Da , da , sir K , I may not come at you , You cast a snare your countrey to betraye , And woulde you haue me trust you now for true ? Remembre Batte the foolish blink eyed boye A Misterie . Which was at Rome , thou knowest whome I meane , Remember eke the preatie beardlesse toye , Whereby thou foundst a safe returne to Geane , Doe so againe : ( God shielde thou shouldst haue néede , ) But rather so , than to forsweare thy selfe : A loyall hearte , ( beleeue this as thy Creede ) Is euermore more woorth than worldly pelfe . And for one lesson , take this more of mée , There are thrée Ps almost in euery place , From whiche I counsell thee alwayes to flée , And take good hede of them in any case , The first is poyson , perillous in déede To such as trauayle with a heauie pursse : And thou my Batte beware , for thou hast néede , Thy pursse is lynde with paper , which is wursse : Thy billes of credite wil not they thinkst thou , Be bayte to sette Italyan hands on woorke ? Yes by my faye , and neuer worse than nowe , When euery knaue hath leysure for to lurke , And knoweth thou commest for the shelles of Christe : Beware therefore where euer that thou go , It may fall out that thou shalte be entiste To suppe sometimes with a Magnifico , And haue a Fico foysted in thy dishe , Bycause thou shouldest disgeste thy meate the better : Beware therefore , and rather féede on fishe , Than learne to spell fyne fleshe with such a Letter . Some may present thée with a pounde or twaine Of Spanishe soape to washe thy lynnen white : Beware therefore , and thynke it were small gayne , To saue thy shirte , and cast thy skinne off quite : Some cunning man maye teache thée for to ryde , And stuffe thy saddle all with Spanishe wooll , Or in thy stirrops haue a toye so tyde , As both thy legges may swell thy buskins full : Beware therfore , and beare a noble porte , Drynke not for thyrste before an other taste : Lette none outlandishe Taylour take disporte To stuffe thy doublet full of such Bumbaste , As it may cast thée in vnkindely sweate , And cause thy haire per companie to glyde , Straungers are fyne in many a propre feate : Beware therefore : the seconde P. is Pryde , More perillous than was the first by farre , For that infects but bloud and leaues the bones , This poysons all , and mindes of men doth marre , It findeth nookes to creepe in for the nones : First from the minde it makes the heart to swell , From thence the flesh is pampred euery parte , The skinne is taught in Dyers shoppes to dwell , The haire is curlde or frilled vp by arte : Beléeue mée Batte , our Countreymen of late Haue caughte such knackes abroade in forayne lande , That most men call them Deuils incarnate , So singular in theyr conceites they stande : Nowe sir , if I shall sée your maistershippe Come home disguysde and cladde in queynt araye , As with a piketoothe byting on your lippe , Your braue Mustachyos turnde the Turky waye , A Coptanckt hatte made on a Flemmish blocke , A nightgowne cloake downe trayling to your toes , A slender sloppe close couched to your docke . A curtold slipper , and a shorte silke hose : Bearing your Rapier pointe aboue the hilte , And looking bigge like Marquise of all Beefe , Then shall I coumpte your toyle and trauayle spilte , Bycause my seconde P , with you is chéefe . But forwardes nowe , although I stayde a while , My hindmost P , is worsse than bothe these two , For it both bones and bodie doth defile , With fouler blots than bothe those other doo . Shorte tale to make , this P , can beare no blockes , ( God shielde me Batte , should beare it in his breast ) And with a dashe it spelleth piles and pockes A perlous P , and woorsse than bothe the reste : Now though I finde no cause for to suspect My Batte in this , bycause he hath bene tryde , Yet since such Spanish buttons can infect Kings , Emperours , Princes and the world so wide . And since those sunnes do mellowe men so fast As most that trauayle come home very ripe Although ( by sweate ) they learne to liue and last When they haue daunced after Guydoes pype : Therfore I thought it méete to warne my frende Of this foule P , and so an ende of Ps. Now for thy diet marke my tale to ende , And thanke me then , for that is all my fees . Sée thou excéede not in thrée double Vs , The first is Wine , which may enflame thy bloud , The second Women , such as haunte the stewes , The thirde is Wilfulnesse , which dooth no good . These thrée eschue , or temper them alwayes : So shall my Batte prolong his youthfull yéeres , And sée long George againe , with happie dayes , Who if he bée as faithfull to his féeres , As hée was wonte , will dayly pray for Batte , And for (a) (a) Sir William Morgan of Pencoyde . Pencoyde : and if it fall out so , That Iames a Parrye doo but make good that , Which he hath sayde : and if he bée ( no , no ) The best companion that long George can finde , Then at the Spawe I promise for to bée In Auguste nexte , if God turne not my minde , Where as I would bée glad thyselfe to sée : Till then farewell , and thus I ende my song , Take it in grée , for else thou doest mée wrong . Haud ictus sapio .

Gascoignes woodmanship written to the L. Grey of Wilton vpon this occasion , the sayd L. Grey delighting ( amongst many other good qualities ) in chusing of his winter deare , & killing the same with his bowe , did furnishe the Aucthor with a crossebowe cum pertinencijs and vouchsaued to vse his company in the said exercise , calling him one of his woodmen . Now the Aucthor shooting very often , could neuer hitte any deare , yea and oftentimes he let the heard passe by as though he had not seene them . Whereat when this noble Lord tooke some pastime , and had often put him in remembrance of his good skill in choosing , and readinesse in killing of a winter deare , he thought good thus to excuse it in verse . MY woorthy Lord , I pray you wonder not , To sée your woodman shoote so ofte awrie , Nor that he stands amased like a sot , And lets the harmlesse deare ( vnhurt ) go by . Or if he strike a Doe which is but carren , Laugh not good Lord , but fauoure such a fault , Take will in worth , he would faine hit the barren , But though his harte be good , his happe is naught : And therefore now I craue your Lordships leaue , To tell you plaine what is the cause of this : First if it please your honour to perceyue , What makes your woodman shoote so ofte amisse , Beléeue me L. the case is nothing strange , He shootes awrie almost at euery marke , His eyes haue bene so vsed for to raunge , That now God knowes they be both dimme and darke . For proofe he beares the note of follie now , Who shotte sometimes to hit Philosophie , And aske you why ? forsooth I make auow , Bicause his wanton wittes went all awrie . Next that , he shot to be a man of lawe , And spent sometime with learned Litleton , Yet in the end , he proued but a daw● , For lawe was darke and he had quickly done . Then could he wish Fitzharbert such a braine , As Tully had , to write the lawe by arte , So that with pleasure , or with litle paine , He might perhaps , haue caught a trewants parte . But all to late , he most mislikte the thing , Which most might helpe to guide his arrow streight ▪ He winked wrong , and so let slippe the string , Which cast him wide , for all his queint conceit . From thence he shotte to catch a courtly grace , And thought euen there to wield the world at will , But out alas he much mistooke the place , And shot awrie at euery rouer still . The blasing baits which drawe the gazing eye , Vnfethered there his first affection , No wonder then although he shot awrie , Wanting the feathers of discretion . Yet more than them , the marks of dignitie , He much mistooke and shot the wronger way , Thinking the purse of prodigalitie , Had bene best meane to purchase such a pray . He thought the flattring face which fleareth still , Had bene full fraught with all fidelitie , And that such wordes as courtiers vse at will . Could not haue varied from the veritie . But when his bonet buttened with gold , His comelie cape begarded all with gay , His bumbast hose , with linings manifold , His knit silke stocks and all his queint aray , Had pickt his purse of all the Peter pence , Which might haue paide for his promotion , Then ( all to late ) he found that light expence , Had quite quencht out the courts deuotion . So that since then the tast of miserie , Hath bene alwayes full bitter in his bit , And why ? forsooth bicause he shot awrie , Mistaking still the markes which others hit , But now behold what marke the man doth find , He shootes to be a souldier in his age , Mistrusting all the vertues of the minde , He trusts the power of his personage . As though long limmes led by a lusty hart , Might yet suffice to make him rich againe , But Flushyng fraies haue taught him such a parte , That now he thinks the warres yéeld no such gaine . And sure I feare , vnlesse your lordship deigne , To traine him yet into some better trade , It will be long before he hit the veine , Whereby he may a richer man be made . He cannot climbe as other catchers can . To leade a charge before himselfe be led , He cannot spoile the simple sakeles man , Which is content to feede him with his bread . He cannot pinch the painefull souldiers pay , And sheare him out his share in ragged shéetes , He cannot stoupe to take a gréedy pray Vpon his fellowes groueling in the stréetes , He cannot pull the spoyle from such as pill , And séeme full angrie at such foule offence , Although the gayne content his gréedie will , Vnder the cloake of contrarie pretence : And now adayes , the man that shootes not so , May shoote amisse , euen as your Woodman dothe : But then you maruell why I lette them go , And neuer shoote , but saye farewell forsooth : Alas my Lord , while I doe muze hereon , And call to minde my youthfull yeares myspente , They giue mee suche a boane to gnawe vpon , That all my senses are in silence pente . My minde is rapte in contemplation , Wherein my dazeled eyes onely beholde , The blacke houre of my constellation , Which framed mée so lucklesse on the molde : Yet therewithall I can not but confesse , That vayne presumption makes my heart to swell , For thus I thinke , not all the worlde ( I guesse , ) Shootes (a) (a) bett●● bet than I , nay some shootes not so well . In Aristotle somewhat did I learne , To guyde my manners all by comelynesse , And Tullie taught me somewhat to discerne Betwéene swéete spéeche and barbarous rudenesse . Olde Parkyns , Rastall , and Dan Bractens bookes , Did lende mée somewhat of the lawlesse Lawe , The craftie Courtiers with their guylefull lookes , Must néedes put some experience in my mawe : Yet can not these with many maystries mo , Make me shoote streyght at any gaynfull pricke , Where some that neuer handled such a bow , Can hit the white , or touch it neare the quicke , Who can nor speake , nor write in pleasant wise , Nor leade their life by Aristotles rule , Nor argue well on questions that arise , Nor pleade a case more than my Lord Mairs mule , Yet can they hit the marks that I do misse , And winne the meane which may the man mainteyne . Now when my minde doth mumble vpon this , No wonder then although I pine for payne : And whiles mine eyes beholde this mirrour thus , The hearde goeth by , and farewell gentle does : So that your Lordship quickely may discusse What blindes mine eyes so ofte ( as I suppose . ) But since my Muse can to my Lorde reherse What makes me misse , and why I doe not shoote , Let me imagine in this woorthlesse verse , If right before mée , at my standings foote There stoode a Doe , and I should strike hir deade , And then shée proue a carrian carkas too , What figure might I finde within my head , To scuse the rage whiche rulde mée so to doo ? Some myght interprete by playne paraphrase , That lacke of skill or fortune ledde the chaunce , But I must otherwise expounde the case , I say Iehoua did this Doe aduaunce , And made hir bolde to stande before mée so , Till I had thrust mine arrowe to hir harte , That by the sodaine of hir ouerthrowe , I myght endeuour to amende my parte , And turne myne eyes that they no more beholde , Such guylefull markes as séeme more than they be : And though they glister outwardely like golde , Are inwardly but brasse , as men may sée : And when I sée the milke hang in hir teate , Me thinkes it sayth , olde babe now learne to sucke , Who in thy youth couldst neuer learne the feate To hitte the whytes whiche liue with all good lucke . Thus haue I tolde my Lorde , ( God graunt in season ) A tedious tale in rime , but little reason . Haud ictus sapio .

Gascoignes gardnings , whereof were written in one end of a close walke whiche he hath in his Garden , this discourse following . THe figure of this world I can compare , To Garden plots , and such like pleasaunt places , The world bréedes men of sundry shape and share , As hearbes in gardens , grow of sundry graces : Some good , some bad , some amiable faces , Some foule , some gentle , some of froward mind , Subiect like bloome , to blast of euery wind . And as you sée the floures most fresh of hew , That they proue not alwayes the holesomest , So fayrest men are not alwayes found true : But euen as withred wéedes fall from the rest , So flatterers fall naked from their neast : When truth hath tried , their painting tising tale , They loose their glosse , and all their iests séeme stale . Yet some do present pleasure most estéeme , Till beames of brauerie wither all their welth , And some agayne there be can rightly déeme , Those herbes for best , which may mainteine their helth . Considering well , that age drawes on by stelth , And when the fayrest floure is shronke and gone , A well growne roote , will stand and shifte for one . Then thus the restlesse life which men here leade , May be resembled to the tender plant , In spring it sprouts , as babes in cradle bréede , Florish in May , like youthes that wisdome want , In Autumne ripes and rootes , least store waxe skante In winter shrinks and shrowdes from euery blast , Like crooked age when lusty youth is past . And as the grounde or grace whereon it grewe , Was fatte or leane , euen so by it appeares ▪ If barreyn soyle , why then it chaungeth hewe , It fadeth faste , it flits to fumbling yeares , But if he gathered roote amongst his féeres , And light on lande that was well muckte in déede , Then standes it still , or leaues increase of séede . As for the reste , fall sundrie wayes ( God wot ) Some faynt lyke froathe at euery little puffe , Some smarte by swoorde , like hearbes that serue the pot , And some be wéeded from the finer stuffe , Some stande by proppes to maynteyne all their ruffe : And thus ( vnder correction bée it tolde ) Hath Gascoigne gathered in his Garden molde . Haud ictus sapio .

In that other ende of his sayde close walke , were written these toyes in ryme . IF any floure that here is growne , Or any hearbe may ease your payne , Take and accompte it as your owne , But recompence the lyke agayne : For some and some is honest playe , And so my wyfe taughte me to saye . If here to walke you take delight , Why come , and welcome when you will : If I bidde you suppe here this night , Bidde me an other time , and still Thinke some and some is honest playe , For so my wife taught me to saye . Thus if you suppe or dine with mée , If you walke here , or fitte at ease , If you desire the thing you sée , And haue the same your minde to please , Thinke some and some is honest playe , And so my wife taught me to saye . Haud ictus sapio .

In a chayre in the same Garden was written this followyng . IF thou sitte here to viewe this pleasant garden place , Think thus : at last will come a frost , & all these floures deface : But if thou sitte at ease to rest thy wearie bones , Remember death brings finall rest to all oure gréeuous grones . So whether for delight , or here thou sitte for ease , Thinke still vpon the latter day , so shalt thou God best please . Haud ictus sapio .

Vpon a stone in the wall of his Garden he had written the yeare wherein he did the coste of these deuises , and therewithall this posie in Latine .

Quoniam etiam humiliatos , amoena delectant .

Gascoignes voyage into Hollande . An. 1572. written to the right honourable the Lorde Grey of Wilton . A Straunge conceyte , a vayne of newe delight , Twixt weale and woe , twixte ioy and bitter griefe , Hath pricked foorth my hastie penne to write This woorthlesse verse in hazarde of repréefe : And to mine (a) (a) best beloued Alderlieuest Lorde I must endite A wofull case , a chippe of sorie chaunce , A tipe of heauen , a liuely hew of hell , A feare to fall , a hope of high aduance , A life , a death , a drearie tale to tell . But since I know the pith of my pastaunce Shall most consist in telling of a truth , Vouchsafe my Lord (b) (b) in good worth ( en bon gré ) for to take This trustie tale the storie of my youth , This Chronicle which of my selfe I make , To shew my Lord what healplesse happe ensewth , When heddy youth will gad without a guide , And raunge vntide in leas of libertie , Or when bare néede a starting hole hath spide To péepe abroade from mother Miserie , And buildeth Castels in the Welkin wide , In hope thereby to dwell with wealth and ease . But he the Lord ( whome my good Lord doth know ) Can bind or lose , as best to him shall please , Can saue or spill , rayse vp or ouerthrowe , Can gauld with griefe , and yet the payne appease . Which thing to proue if so my L. take time , ( When greater cares his head shall not possesse ) To sitte and reade this raunging ragged rime , I doubt not then but that he will confesse , What falles I found when last I leapt to clime . In March it was , that cannot I forget , In this last March vpon the nintenth day , When from Grauesend in boate I gan to iette To boorde our shippe in Quinborough that lay , From whence the very twentith day we set Our sayles abrode to slice the Salt sea fome , And ancors weyde gan trust the trustlesse floud : That day and night amid the waues we rome To seeke the coast of Holland where it stoode . And on the next when we were farre from home , And neare the hauen whereto we sought to sayle , A fearly chaunce : ( whereon alone to thinke ) My hande now quakes , and all my senses fayle ) Gan vs befall : the Pylot gan to shrinke , And all agaste his courage séemde to quayle . Whereat amazed , the Maister and his mate Gan aske the cause of his so sodeyne chaunge . And from alofte the Stewarde of our state , ( The sounding plumbe ) in haste poste hast must raunge , To trye the depth and goodnesse of our gate . Mée thinkes ( euen yet ) I heare his heauie voyce , (a) (a) Fadom & a half , three ho. Fadome thrée , foure , foote more , foote lesse , that cride : Mée thinkes I heare the fearefull whispring noyse , Of such as sayde full softely ( me beside ) God graunte this iourney cause vs to reioyce . When I poore soule , which close in caban laye , And there had reacht till gaule was welneare burst , With giddie head , my stumbling steppes must stay To looke abroade as boldly as I durst . And whyles I hearken what the Saylers saye , The sownder sings , fadame two full no more . Aloofe , aloofe , then cried the Maister out , The Stearesmate striues to sende vs from the shore , And trustes the streame , whereof wée earst had doubt , Twéene two extréeme thus were we tossed sore , And went to (b) (b) When all sayles are taken downe . Hull , vntill we leyzure had To talke at large , and eke to know the cause What moode had made our Pylot looke so sad . At last the Dutche with butterbitten iawes , ( For so he was a Dutche , a Deuill , a swadde , A foole , a drunkarde , or a traytour tone ) Gan aunswere thus : (c) (c) You be to soone Ghy zijt te vroegh here come , (d) (d) It is not good tide Tuniet goet tijt and standing all alone , Gan preache to vs , which fooles were all and some To trust him foole , in whom there skill was none . Or what knew wee if Albaes subtill brayne ( So to preuent our enterpryse by treazon ) Had him subornde to tice vs to this trayne And so him selfe ( per Companye and seazon ) For spite , for hate , or else for hope of gayne . This must we thinke that (e) (e) the Duke Alba would not spare To giue out gold for such a sinfull déede : And glistring gold can oftentimes ensnare , More perfect wits than Holland soyle doth bréede . But let that passe , and let vs now compare Our owne fond fact with this his foule offence . We knew him not , nor where he wond that time , Nor if he had Pylots experience , Or Pylats crafte , to cleare him selfe from crime . Yea more than that ( how voyde were we of sense ) We had small smacke of any tale he tolde , He powrde out Dutch to drowne vs all in drinke , And we ( wise men ) vppon his words were bolde , To runne on head : but let me now bethinke The masters spéech : and let me so vnfold The depth of all this foolish ouersight . The master spake euen like a skilfull man , And sayde I sayle the Seas both day and night , I know the tides as well as other can , From pole to pole I can the courses plight : I know France , Spaine , Gréece , Denmarke , Dasisk & all , Frize , Flaunders , Holland , euery coast I know , But truth to tell , it seldome doth befall , That English merchants euer bend their bowe To shoote at Breyll , where now our flight should fall , They send their shafts farder for greater gayne . So that this hauen is yet ( quoth he ) (a) (a) vnknowen vnkouth , And God graunt now that England may attayne Such gaines by Breyll , ( a gospell on that mouth ) As is desired : thus spake the master playne . And since ( saide he ) my selfe knew not the sowne , How could I well a better Pylot fynde , Than this ( which first ) did saye he dwelt in towne , And knew the way where euer sat the wynde ? While we thus talke , all sayles are taken downe , And we to Hull ( as earst I sayd ) gan wend , Till full two houres and somewhat more were past , Our guyde then spake in Dutch and bad vs bend All sayles againe : for now quod he ( at last ) (a) (a) It is good tide that know I well Die tijt is goet , dat heb ick weell bekend . Why staye I long to ende a wofull tale ? We trust his Dutch , and vp the foresayle goes , We fall on knées amyd the happy gale , ( Which by Gods will full kynd and calmely blowes ) And vnto him we there vnfolde our bale , Whereon to thinke I wryte and wéepe for ioye , That pleasant song the hundreth and seuenth Psalme , There dyd we reade to comfort our annoye , Which to my soule ( me thought ) was swéete as balme , Yea farre more swéete than any worldly ioye . And when he had with prayers praysd the Lord , Our (b) (b) Lusty gallants Edell Bloetts , gan fall to eate and drinke , And for their sauce , at takyng vp the borde The shippe so strake ( as all we thought to sinke ) Against the ground . Then all with one accorde We fell againe on knées to pray apace , And therewithall euen at the second blowe , ( The number cannot from my minde outpace ) Our helme strake of , and we must fléete and flowe , Where winde and waues would guide vs by their grace . The winde waxt calme as I haue sayde before , ( O mightie God so didst thou swage our woes ) The selly shippe was sowst and smitten sore , With counter buffetts , blowes and double blowes . At last the kéele which might endure no more , Gan rende in twayne and suckt the water in : Then might you sée pale lookes and wofull cheare , Then might you heare loude cries and deadly dinne : Well noble minds in perils best appeare , And boldest harts in bale will neuer blinne . For there were some ( of whome I will not say That I was one ) which neuer changed hew , But pumpt apace , and labord euery way To saue themselues , and all their louely crew , Which cast the best fraight ouerboorde away , Both corne and cloth , and all that was of weight . Which halde and pulde at euery helping corde , Which prayed to God and made their conscience streight . As for my self : I here protest my Lorde , My words were these : O God in heauen on height , Behold me not as now a wicked wight , A sacke of sinne , a wretch ywrapt in wroth , Let no fault past ( O Lord ) offende thy sight , But weye my will which now those faults doth lothe , And of thy mercy pittie this our plight . Euen thou good God which of thy grace didst saye That for one good , thou wouldst all Sodome saue , Behold vs all : thy shyning beames displaye , Some here ( I trust ) thy goodnesse shall engraue , To be chast vessels vnto thée alwaye , And so to liue in honour of thy name : Beleue me Lord , thus to the Lord I sayde . But there were some ( alas the more their blame ) Which in the pumpe their onely comfort layde , And trusted that to turne our griefe to game . Alas ( quod I ) our pumpe good God must be , Our sayle , our sterne , our tackling , and our trust . Some other cried to cleare the shipboate frée , To saue the chiefe and leaue the rest in dust . Which word once spoke ( a wondrous thing to sée ) All hast post hast , was made to haue it done : And vp it commes in hast much more than spéede . There did I see a wofull worke begonne , Which now ( euen now ) doth make my hart to bléede . Some made such hast that in the boate they wonne , Before it was aboue the hatches brought . Straunge tale to tell , what hast some men shall make To find their death before the same be sought . Some twixt the boate and shippe their bane do take , Both drownd and slayne with braynes for hast crusht out . At last the boat halfe fraighted in the aire Is hoyst alofte , and on the seas downe set , When I that yet in God could not dispaire , Still plide the pumpe , and patiently did let All such take boate as thither made repaire . And herewithall I safely may protest I might haue wonne the boate as wel as one , And had that séemed a safetie for the rest I should percase euen with the first haue gone . But when I saw the boate was ouer prest And pestred full with moe than it might beare , And therwithall with cherefull looke might sée My chiefe companions whome I held most deare ( Whofe companie had thither trained me ) Abiding still aboorde our shippe yfeare : Yorke and Herle . Nay then ( quoth I ) good God thy will be done , For with my feeres I will both liue and dye . And eare the boate farre from our sight was gon The waue so wrought , that they ( which thought to flée And so to scape ) with waues were ouer ronne . Lo how he striues in vaine that striues with God For there we lost the flowre of the band , And of our crew full twentie soules and odde , The Sea sucks vp , whils we on hatches stand In smarting feare to feele that selfe same rodde . Well on ( as yet ) our battred barke did passe , And brought the rest within a myle of lande , Then thought I sure now néede not I to passe , For I can swymme and so escape this sande . Thus dyd I déeme all carelesse like an Asse , When sodaynely the wynde our foresayle tooke , And turnd about and brought vs eft to Seas . Then cryed we all , cast out the ancor hooke , And here let byde such helpe as god may please : Which ancor cast , we soone the same forsooke , And cut it off , for feare least therevpon Our shippe should bowge , then callde we fast for fire , And so dischargde our great gunnes euerychone , To warne the towne thereby of our desire : But all in vayne , for succor sent they none . At last a Hoy from Sea came flinging fast , And towards vs helde course as streight as lyne . Then might you sée our hands to heauen vp cast To render thanks vnto the power deuine , That so vouchsafte to saue vs yet at last : But when this Hoy gan ( welnéere ) boorde our barke , And might perceiue what peryll we were in , It turnd away and left vs still in (a) (a) care carke , This tale is true ( for now to lie were sin ) It lefte vs there in dreade and daungers darke . It lefte vs so , and that within the sight And hearing both of all the peare at Breyll . Now ply thee pen , and paint the foule despite Of drunken Dutchmen standing there euen still , For whom we came in their cause for to fight , For whom we came their state for to defende , For whom we came as friends to grieue their foes , They now disdaynd ( in this distresse ) to lend One helping boate for to asswage our woes : They sawe our harmes the which they would not mend , And had not bene that God euen then did rayse Some instruments to succor vs at néede , We had bene sunk and swallowed all in Seas . But Gods will was ( in way of our good spéede ) That on the peare ( lamenting our mysease ) Some englishe were , whose naked swordes did force The drunken dutch , the cankred churles to come , And so at last ( not moued by remorce , But forst by feare ) they sent vs succor some : Some must I say : and for to tell the course , They sent vs succor saust with sowre despite , They saued our liues and spoylde vs of the rest , They stale our goods by day and eke by night , They shewed the worst and closely kept the best . And in this time ( this treason must I wryte ) Our Pylot fled , but how ? not emptie handed : He fled from vs , and with him did conueye A Hoy full fraught ( whiles we meane while were landed ) With pouder , shotte , and all our best araye : This skill he had , for all he set vs sanded . And now my Lord , declare your noble mynde , Was this a Pylot , or a Pilate iudge ? Or rather was he not of Iudas kynde : Which left vs thus and close away could trudge ? Well , at the Bryell to tell you what we finde , The Gouernour was all bedewed with drinke , His truls and he were all layde downe to sléepe , And we must shift , and of our selues must thinke What meane was best , and how we best might kéepe That yet remaynd : the rest was close in clinke . Well , on our knées with trickling teares of ioye , We gaue God thanks : and as we might , did learne What might be founde in euery (a) (a) A Small bote . pynke and hoye . And thus my Lord , your honour may descerne Our perils past , and how in our anoye God saued me ( your Lordshippes bound for euer ) Who else should not be able now to tell , The state wherein this countrey doth perseuer , Ne how they séeme in carelesse mindes to dwell . ( So did they earst and so they will do euer ) And to my Lord for to bewray my minde Me thinkes they be a race of Bulbéefe borne , Whose hartes their Butter mollyfieth by kinde , And so the force of béefe is cleane outworne : And eke their braines with double béere are lynd● : So that they march bumbast with buttred béere , Like soppes of browesse puffed vp with froth , Where inwardely they be but hollowe géere , As weake as winde , which with one puffe vp goeth : And yet they bragge , and thinke they haue no péere , Bicause Harlem hath hitherto helde out , Although in déed ( as they haue suffred Spayne ) The ende thereof euen now doth rest in doubt . Well , as for that , let it ( for me ) remaine In God his hands , whose hand hath brought me out , To tell my Lord this tale nowe tane in hande , As howe they traine their trezons all in drinke , And when them selues for drunk can scarcely stande , Yet sucke out secretes ( as them selues do thinke ) From guests . The best ( almost ) in all their lande , ( I name no man , for that were brode before ) Will ( as men say ) enure the same sometime , But surely this ( or I mistake him sore ) Or else he can ( but let it passe in rime ) Dissemble déepe , and mocke sometimes the more : Well , drunkennesse is here good companie , And therewithall per consequens it falles That whordome is accompted iollitie : A gentle state , where two suche Tenisballes Are tossed still and better bowles let lie . I cannot herewith from my Lord conceale , How God and Mammon here do dwell yfeare , And how the Masse is cloked vnder veale Of pollicie , till all the coast be cleare . Ne can I chuse , but I must ring a peale , To tell what hypocrytes the Nunnes here be : And how the olde Nunnes be content to go , Before a man in streates like mother B , Vntill they come wheras there dwels a Ho , ( Re : ceyue that halfe , and let the rest go frée ) There can they poynt with finger as they passe , Yea sir , sometimes they can come in themselfe , To strike the bergaine twéene a wanton lasse , And Edel bloets : nowe is not this good pelfe ? As for the yong Nunnes , they be bright as glasse , And chaste forsooth , met v : and anders niet : What sayde I ? what ? that is a misterie , I may no verse of such a theame endite , Yong Rowlande Yorke may tell it bet than I : Yet to my Lorde this little will I write , That though I haue ( my selfe ) no skill at all , To take the countnance of a Colonel , Had I a good Lieutenant general , As good Iohn Zuche whereuer that he dwel , Or else Ned Dennye ( faire mought him befal ) I coulde haue brought a noble regiment Of smugskinnde Nunnes into my countrey soyle : But farewell they as things impertinent , Let them ( for me ) go dwell with master Moyle , Who hath behight to place them well in Kent . And I shall well my sillie selfe content , To come alone vnto my louely Lorde , And vnto him ( when riming sporte is spent ) To tel some sadde and reasonable worde , Of Hollandes state , the which I will present , In Cartes , in Mappes , and eke in Models made , If God of heauen my purpose not preuent . And in meane while although my wits do wade In ranging rime , and fling some follie foorth , I trust my Lorde will take it well in woorth . Haud ictus sapio .

❧ WEEDES . Tam Marti quàm Mercurio .

¶ In this diuision are conteyned :

The fruite of Fetters . Folio . 175 The complaynt of the green Knight . Folio . 178 The farewel to Fansie . Folio . 190 The fable of Ferdinando Ieronimi and Leonora de Valasco . Folio . 193 The prayse of a Gentlewoman neither fair nor welfauored . The prayse of Phillip Sparrowe . Folio . 279 Farewel with a mischief . Folio . 281 The doale of disdaine . Folio . 282 Mars in despite of Vulcane . folio . 284 Patience perforce . Folio . 286 A letter for a yong louer . Folio . 287 Dauid saluteth Bersabe . Folio . 288 Sone acquainted , sone forgotten . Folio . 289

¶ The fruite of Fetters : with the complaint of the greene Knight , and his Farewell to Fansie . GReat be the gréefes which bruze the boldest brests , And al to séelde we sée such burdens borne , For cruell care ( which reaueth quiet rests ) Hath oftentimes the woorthiest willes foreworne , And layed such weight vpon a noble harte , That wit and will haue both giuen place to smarte . For proofe wherof I tel this woful tale , ( Giue eare that list , I force no frolicke mindes ) But such as can abide to heare of bale , And rather rue the rage which Fansie findes , Than scorne the pangs which may procure their pine , Let them giue eare vnto these rimes of mine . I teare my time ( ay me ) in prison pent , Wherin the floure of my consuming yeares , With secret grief my reason doth torment , And frets it self ( perhaps ) with néedlesse feares : For whyles I striue against the streame too fast , My forces faile , and I must downe at last . The hastie Vine for sample might me serue , Which climbes too high about the loftie trée , But when the twist his tender iointes doth carue , Then fades he fast , that sought full fresh to bée : He fades and faintes before his fellowes faile , Which lay full lowe , and neuer hoyst vp saile . Ay me , the dayes which I in dole consume , Ah las , the nightes which witnesse well my woe , O wrongful world which makst my fansie fume , Fie fickle Fortune , fie thou arte my foe , Out and alas , so frowarde is my chaunce , No dayes nor nightes , nor worldes can me aduaunce . In recklesse youth , the common plague of Loue Infected me ( al day ) with carelesse minde , Entising dames my patience still did proue , And blearde mine eyes , till I became so blinde , That seing not what furie brought mée foorth , I followed most ( alwayes ) that least was woorth . In middle yeares , the reache of Reasons reine No sooner gan to bridle in my will , Nor naked néede no sooner gan constreine My rash decay to breake my sléepes by skill , But streight therewith hope set my heart on flame , To winne againe both wealth and woorthy name . And thence procéedes my most consuming griefe , For whyles the hope of mine vnyolden harte In endlesse toyles did labor for reliefe , Came crabbed Chance and marrde my merry marte : Yea , not content with one fowle ouerthrowe , So tied me fast for tempting any mo . She tied me fast ( alas ) in golden chaines , Wherein I dwell , not frée , nor fully thrall , Where guilefull loue in double doubt remaines , Nor honie swéet , nor bitter yet as gall : For euery day a patterne I beholde Of scortching flame , which makes my heart full colde . And euery night , the rage of restlesse thought Doth raise me vp , my hope for to renewe , My quiet bed which I for solace sought , Doth yrke mine eares , when still the warlike crewe With sounde of drummes , and trumpets braying shrill Relieue their watch , yet I in thraldome still . The common ioy , the chéere of companie , Twixt mirth and moane doth plundge me euermore : For pleasant talke , or Musicks melodie , Yéeld no such salue vnto my secret sore , But that therewith this corsiue coms me too , Why liue not I at large as others doo ? Lo thus I liue in spite of cruell death , And die as fast in spite of lingring life , Fedde still with hope which doth prolong my breath . But choakte with feare , and strangled still with strife , Starke staring blinde bicause I sée too much , Yet gasing still bicause I sée none such . Amid these pangs ( O subtil Cordial ) Those farrefet sighes which most mens mindes eschewe , Recomforte me , and make the furie fall , Which fedde the roote from whence my fits renewe : They comforte me ( ah wretched doubtfull clause ) They helpe the harme , and yet they kill the cause . Where might I then my carefull corpse conuay From companie , which worketh all my woe ? How might I winke or hide mine eyes alway , Which gaze on that wherof my griefe doth growe ? How might I stoppe mine eares , which hearken still , To euery ioy , which can but wounde my will ? How should I séeme my sighes for to suppresse , Which helpe the heart that else would swelt in sunder ? Which hurt the helpe that makes my torment lesse ? Which helpe and hurte ( oh wofull wearie wonder ) One séely hartie thus toste twixt helpe and harme , How should I séeme , such sighes in tyme to charme ? How ? how but thus ? in sollitarie wise To steppe aside , and make high way to moane : To make two fountaines of my dazled eies , To sigh my fill till breath and all be gone : So sighed the knight of whome Bartello writes , All cladde in Gréene , yet banisht from delights . And since the storye is both new and trew , A dreary tale much like these lottes of myne I will assaye my muze for to renewe , By ryming out his frowarde fatall fine . A dolefull spéeche becommes a dumpish man , So semde by him , for thus his tale begane .

The complaint of the greene Knight . WHy liue I wretch ( quoth he ) alas and wellaway , Or why beholde my heauy eies , this gladsome sunny day ? Since neuer sunne yet shone , that could my state aduaunce , Why liue I wretche ( alas quoth he ) in hope of better chaunce ? Or wherefore telles my toung , this drearye dolefull tale , That euery eare might heare my griéefe and so bemone my bale ? Since eare was neuer yet , that harkened to my playnte , Why liue I wretch ( alas quoth he ) my pangs in vaine to paint ? Or wherfore dotes desire , that doth his wish disclose , And shewes the sore that séeks recure , thereby to ease my woes ? Since yet he neuer found , the hart where pyttie dwelt , Why liue I wretch ( alas quoth he ) alone in woe to swelt ? Why striue I with the streame , or hoppe against the hill , Or search that neuer can be founde , or loose my labor still ? Since destenies decréed , must alwayes be obeyde , Why liue I wretch alas ( quoth he ) with lucke thus ouerleyde ? Why feedes my heart on hope ? why tyre I still on trust ? Why doth my minde still muse on mirth ? why leanes my life on lust ? Since hope had neuer hap , & trust always found treason , Why liue I wretch alas ( quoth he ) where all good luck is geazon ? The fatal Sisters thrée , which spun my slender twine , Knew wel how rotten was the yarne , from whence they drew their line : Yet haue they wouen the web , with care so manifolde , ( Alas I woful wretch the while ) as any cloth can holde : Yea though the thréeds be cowrse , and such as others lothe , Yet must I wrap alwayes therin , my bones and body both : And weare it out at length , which lasteth but too long . O weauer weauer work no more , thy warp hath done me wrong : For therin haue I lapt my light and lustie yeares , And therin haplesse haue I hapt , mine age and hoarie heares : Yet neuer found I warmth , by ietting in thy iaggs , Nor neuer can I weare them out , although they rende like raggs . The May-moone of mine age , I meane the gallant time When coales of kinde first kindled loue , & plesure was in prime , All bitter was the frute , which still I reaped then , And little was the gaine I got , comparde by other men . Teare-thirstie were the Dames , to whome I sued for grace , Some stonie stomackt , other some , of high disdainful race . But all vnconstant ( ay ) and ( that to thinke ) I die , The guerdon which Cosmana gaue , can witnesse if I lie . Cosmana was the wight to whome I wished well , To serue Cosmana did I séeme , in loue to beare the bell : Cosmana was my god , Cosmana was my ioy , Ay me , Cosmana turnde my mirth , to dole and dark anoy : Reuenge it Radamanth , if I be found to lie , Or if I slaunder hir at all , condemne me then to die . Thou knowst I honored hir , no more but all too much , Alas thou knowst she cast me off , when I deservde no grutch . She dead ( I dying yet ) ay me my teares were dried , And téeth of time gnew out the grief , which al to long I tried , Yet from hir ashes sprung , or from such subtile molde , Ferenda she , whome euerie eye , did iudge more bright than golde . Ferenda then I sawe , Ferenda I behelde , Ferenda servde I faithfully , in towne and eke in fielde : Ferenda coulde not say , the gréene Knight was vntrew , But out alas , the gréene Knight fayde , Ferenda changde for new : Ferenda did hir kinde : then was she to be borne , She did but weare Cosmanes cloutes , which she in spite had torne : And yet betwene them both they waare the thréeds so néere , As were they not of stéele or stone , they coulde not holde yféere . But now Ferenda mine , a little by thy leaue : What moued thée to madding moode ? why didst thou me deceaue ? Alas I was al thine , thy selfe can say no lesse , And for thy fall , I bathed oft in many a déepe distresse : And yet to do thée right , I neyther blame thy race , Thy shining selfe , the golden gleames that glistred on thy face , Nor yet thy fickle faith , shall neuer beare the blame , But I , whome kinde hath framd to finde , a griefe in euerie game : The high decrées of heauen , haue limited my life , To linger stil wher Loue doth lodge , yet there to sterue in strife . For proofe , who list to know what makes me nowe complaine , Giue eare vnto the gréene Knights tale : for now begins his paine . When rash vnbridled youth had run his recklesse race , And caried me with carelesse course , to many a great disgrace , Then riper mellowed yeares , thought good to turne their trade , And bad Repentance holds the reines , to rule the brainsicke iade : So that with much to doo , the brydle helde him backe , And Reason made him byte on bit , which had a better smacke : And for I felte my selfe , by féeblenesse fordoonne , And panting still for lack of breath , as one much ouerroonne . Therefore I toke aduise , to walke him first awhile , And so at length to set him vp , his trauayles to beguile : Yea when he curried was , and dusted slicke and trimme , I causde both hey and prouander to be allowde for him : Wherat ( alas to thinke ) he gathered flesh so fast , That still he playd his coltish pranks , when as I thought them past : He winched still alwayes , and whisked with his taile , And leaping ouer hedge and ditch , I sawe it not preuaile To pamper him so proude : Wherfore I thought it best , To trauaile him ( not as I woont ) yet nay to giue him rest . Thus well resolued then , I kept him still in harte , And founde a pretie prouander appointed for his parte , Which once a day , no more , he might a little tast : And by this diet , made I youth a gentle iade at last : And foorth I might him ride , an easie iourneying pace , He neuer straue with middle age , but gently gaue him place : Then middle age stept in , and toke the helme in hande , To guide my Barke by better skill , into some better lande . And as eche noble heart is euermore most bent , To high exploites and woorthie déedes , where honor may be hent : So mine vnyolden minde , by Armes gan séeke renowne , And sought to rayse , that recklesse youth had rashly tumbled downe . With sworde and trustie targe , then sought I for to carue For middle age and hoarie haires , and both their turnes to sarue : And in my Caruers roome , I gan to cut suche cuttes , And made suche morsels for their mouthes , as well might fill their guttes , Beside some ouerplus , ( which being kept in store ) Might serue to welcome al their friends , with foison euermore : I meane no more but this : my hand gan finde such happe , As made me thinke , that Fortune ment , to play me in hir lappe : And hope therwith had heavde , my heart to be so hie , That still I hoapt , by force of armes , to climbe aboue the Skie : I bathed still in blisse , I ledde a lordelie life , My Souldiers lovde and fearde me both , I neuer dreaded strife : My boord was furnisht stil , with cates of dainty cost , My back wel clad , my purse wel lynde , my woonted lack was lost , My bags began to fil , my debtes for to discharge , My state so stoode , as sure I séemde to swim in good lucks barge : But out and well away , what pleasure bréedes not paine ? What sun can shine without a cloud , what thunder brings not rain ? Such is the life of man , such was the luck of me , To fall so fast from hiest hap , where sure I séemde to be . Fiue hundred sundrie sunnes ( and more ) could scarcely serue , By sweat of brows to win a roome , wherin my knife might carue : One onely dismall day , suffised ( with despite ) To take me from my caruers place , and from the table quite . Fiue hundred broken sleepes , had busied all my braynes , To find ( at last ) some worthy trade , that might increse my gaynes : One blacke vnluckie houre , my trade hath ouerthrowen , And marrde my marte , & broke my bank , & al my blisse oreblowen . To wrappe vp all in woe , I am in prison pent , My gaines possessed by my foes , my friends against me bent : And all the heauy haps , that euer age yet bare , Assembled are within my breast , to choake me vp with care . My modest middle age , which lacks of youth the lust , Can beare no such gret burdens now , but throwes them in the dust : Yet in this piteous plight , beholde me Louers all , And rewe my grieues , least you your selues do light on such a fal . I am that wearie wretch , whom loue always hath tyred , And fed me with such strange conceytes , as neuer man desired . For now ( euen now ) ay me : I loue and cannot chuse , So strangely yet , as wel may moue the wisest mindes to muse . No blasing beautie bright , hath set my heart on fire , No ticing talke , no gorgeous gyte , tormenteth my desire , No bodie finely framde , no haggarde Falcons eie , No ruddie lip , no golden locks , hath drawne my minde awrie : No téeth of shining pearle , no gallant rosie hiew , No dimpled chinne , no pit in chéeke , presented to my view : In fine , no such delights , as louers oft allure , Are cause why thus I do lament , or put my plaintes in vre : But such a strange affect , as both I shame to tell , And all the worlde may woonder much , how first therin I fell . Yet since I haue begonne ( quoth he ) to tell my griefe , I wil nought hide , although I hope to finde no great reliefe . And thus ( quoth he ) it is : Amongst the sundrie ioyes Which I conceivde in feates of warre , and all my Martial toyes , My chaunce was late to haue a péerlesse firelock péece , That to my wittes was nay the like , in Turkie nor in Greece : A péece so cleanly framde , so streight , so light , so fine , So tempred and so polished , as séemeth worke diuine : A péece whose locke yet past , for why it it neuer failde , And though I bent it night and day , the quicknesse neuer quailde : A péece as well renforst , as euer yet was wrought , The brauest péece for bréech and bore , that euer yet was bought : The mounture so well made , and for my pitch so fit , As though I sée faire péeces moe , yet fewe so fine as it : A péece which shot so well , so gently and so streight , It neyther bruzed with recule , nor wroong with ouerweight . In fine and to conclude , I know no fault thereby , That eyther might be thought in minde , or wel discernde with ey . This péece then late I had , and therin tooke delight , As much as euer proper péece did please a warlike wight . Nowe though it be not lost , nor rendred with the rest , Yet being shut from sight therof , how can I thinke me blest ? Or which way should I hope , that such a iewell rare , Can passe vnséen in any campe where cunning shooters are ? And therewith am I sure , that being once espied , It neuer can escape their hands , but that it will be tried : And being once but prooued , then farewel frost for me , My péece , my locke , and all is lost , and I shall neuer sée The like againe on earth . Nowe Louers speake your minde , Was euer man so strangely stroke , or caught in such a kinde ? Was euer man so fonde ? was euer man so mad ? Was euer man so woe begone ? or in such cares yclad ? For restlesse thus I rest , the wretchedst man on liue , And when I thinke vpon this péece , then still my woes reuiue . Nor euer can I finde good plaister for my paine , Vnlesse my lucke might be so good , to finde that péece againe . To make my mourning more , where I in prison pine , I daily sée a pretie péece , much like that péece of mine , Which helps my hurt , much like vnto a broken shinne , That when it heales , begins to ytch , and then rubs off the skinne , Thus liue I still in loue , alas and euer shall , As well content to loose my péece , as gladde to finde my fall : A wonder to the worlde , a griefe to friendlie mindes , A mocking stocke to Momus race , and al such scornefull hindes , A loue ( that thinke I sure ) whose like was neuer séene , Nor neuer warlike wight shal be in loue as I haue béene : So that in sooth ( quoth he ) I cannot blame the Dames , Whome I in youth did moste estéeme , I list not foile their fames , But there to lay the fault , from whence it first did flowe : I say my Fortune is the root , whence all these griefes did grow . Since Fortune then ( quoth he ) hath turnde to me hir backe , Shall I go yéeld to mourning moane , and cloath my self in black● ? No no , for noble mindes can beare no thraldome so , But rather shew a merrie cheere , when most they wade in wo. And so will I in gréene , my careful corpse aray , To set a bragge amongst the best , as though my heart were gay : Not greene bicause I hope , nor gréene bicause I ioy , Nor gréene , bicause I can delight in any youthfull toy : But greene , bicause my gréenes are alway fresh and gréene , Whose roote is such it cannot rot , as by the frute is séene . Thus sayde , he gaue a groane , as though his heart had broke , And from the furnace of his breast , sent scalding sighes like smoke : And sighing so , he sate in solitarie wise , Conueying flouds of brynish teares , by conduct of his eyes . What ende he had God knoweth , Battello writes it not , Or if he do , my wittes are short , for I haue it forgot .

The continuance of the Author , vpon the fruite of Fetters . THus haue you heard the gréen Knight make his mone , Which wel might moue the hardest heart to melt : But what he ment , that knewe himselfe alone , For such a cause , in wéerie woes to swelt : And yet by like , some péerlesse peece it was , That brought him so in raging stormes to passe . I haue heard tell , and read it therewithall , That neare the Alpes a kinde of people bée , Which serue with shot , wherof the very ball Is bigge of bulke , the péece but short to sée : But yet it shootes as farre , and eke as fast , As those which are yframde of longer last . The cause ( say some ) consisteth in the locke , Some other iudge , bicause they be so strong , Renforced well , and bréeched like a brocke , Stiffe , straight , and stout , which though they be not long , Yet spit they foorth their pellets such a pace , And with such force , as séemes a woondrous case . Some other thinke , the mettal maketh all , Which tempred is both rounde and smooth to sée : And sure me thinkes , the bignesse of the ball , Ne yet the locke , should make it shoote so frée , But euen the bréech of mettall good and sounde , Which makes the ball with greater force to bounde . For this we sée , the stiffe and strongest arme , Which giues a ierke , and hath a cunning loose , Shootes furdest still , and doth alway most harme , For be his flights yfeathred from the goose , Or Peacockes quilles , or Rauen , or Swanne , or Crowe , His shafts go swifte , when others flie but slowe . How so it be , the men that vse to shoote In these short gunnes , are praysed for the best : And Princes seeke such shotte for to promoote As perfectest and better than the rest : So that ( by like ) their péeces beare the sway , Else other men could shoote as farre as they . Their péeces then are called Petronels , And they themselues by sundrie names are calld : As Bandolliers , for who in mountaynes dwels , In trowpes and bandes , ofte times is stoutly stalld : Or of the Stone wherwith the locke doth strike , Petronelliers , they called are by like . And so percase this péerelesse péece of his For which he mournde and made such ruefull mone , Was one of those : and therfore all his blisse , Was turnd to bale when as that péece was gone : Since Martial men do set their chief delight , In armes which are both free and fayre in sight . My selfe haue séene some péece of such a pryce , As woorthy were to be estéemed well : For this you know in any straunge deuise , Such things as séeme for goodnesse to excell , Are holden deare , and for great Iewels déemd , Bycause they be both rare and much estéemd . But now to turne my tale from whence I came , I saie his lottes and mine were not vnlike : He spent his youth ( as I did ) out of frame , He came at last ( like me ) to trayle the pike . He pynde in pryson pinchte with priuie payne , And I likewise in pryson still remayne . Yet some good fruite in fetters can I finde , As vertue rules in euery kinde of vice : First pryson brings repentaunce to the minde , Which wandred earst in lust and lewde deuice . For hardest hartes by troubles yet are taught , That God is good when all the worlde is naught . If thou haue ledde a carelesse lyfe at large , Without regard what libertie was worth : And then come downe to cruell Gaylours charge , Which kéepes thée close and neuer lettes thée forth : Learne then this fruite in Fetters by thy selfe , That libertie is worth all worldly pelfe . Whose happe is such to yéelde himself in warre , Remembre then that peace in pleasure dwelles : Whose hartes are high and know not what they are Let such but marke the gingling of their belles : When fetters frette their anckles as they goe , Since none so high but that may come as lowe . To tell a truth and therein to be shorte , Prysons are plagues that fal for mans offence . Which maketh some in good and godly sorte , With contrite harte to grope their conscience . Repentance then steppes in and pardon craues , These fruites ( with mo ) are found in darksome caues . If thou haue friends , there shalt thou know them right , Since fastest friends in troubles shew their fayth : If thou haue foes , there shalt thou sée their spight For all to true it is that Prouerbe sayth : Where hedge is lowe , there euery man treads downe , And friendship failes when Fortune list to frowne . Patience is founde in prison ( though perforce ) And Temprance taught where none excesse doth dwell , Exercise calles , least flouth should kill thy corse : Diligence driues thy busie braines to swell , For some deuise which may redéeme thy state , These fruites I found in fetters all too late . And with these fruites another fruite I found , A strange conceyt , and yet a trustie truth : I found by proufe , there is no kinde of ground , That yéeldes a better croppe to retchlesse youth , Than that same molde where fetters serue for mucke , And wit stil woorkes to digge vp better lucke . For if the séede of grace will euer growe , Then sure such soile will serue to beare it best , And if Gods mercie therewithall do flowe , Then springs it high , and ruffles with the rest : Oft hath bene séene such séede in prison cast , Which long kept close , and prospred yet at last . But therewithall there springs a kinde of Tares , Which are vile wéedes , and must be rooted out , They choake vp grace , and lap it fast in snares , Which oftentimes do drawe it déepe in dout , And hinders plantes which else would growe full hie , Yet is this wéede an easie thing to spie . Men call it Fansie , sure a woorthlesse wéede , And of the same full many sortes are found , Some fansies are , which thinke a lawfull déede To scape away , though faith full fast be bound : Some thinke by loue , ( nay lust in cloke of loue ) From fetters fast their selues for to remoue . Some be , that meane by murder to preuaile , And some by fraude , as fansie rules the thought : Sometimes such frightes mens fansies do assaile , ( That when they sée their fréedome must be bought ) They vowe to take a stande on Shooters hill , Till rents come in to please their wicked will . Some fansies hopes by lies to come on floate , As for to tell their frends and kinne great tales , What wealth they lost in coyne , and many a coate , What powder packt in coffers and in males , What they must pay , and what their charge will be , Wherin they meane to saue themselues a fee . Some fansies eke forecast what life to wéelde , When libertie shall graunted be at last , And in the aire such castles gan they builde , That many times they fall againe as fast : For Fansie hinders Grace from glories crowne , As Tares and Byndes can plucke good graine adowne . Who list therfore by Fetters frute to haue , Take Fansie first out of his priuy thought , And when thou hast him , cast him in the waue Of Lethes lake : for sure his séede is nought . The gréene Knight he , of whome I late did tell , ( Mine Author sayth ) badde Fansie thus farewell .

The greene Knights farewell to Fansie . FAnsie ( quoth he ) farewell , whose badge I long did beare , And in my hat full harebrayndly , thy flowers did I weare : To late I finde ( at last ) , thy frutes are nothing worth , Thy blossomes fall & fade full fast , though brauerie bring them forth : By thée I hoapt alwayes , in déepe delights to dwel , But since I finde thy ficklenesse , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . Thou madste me liue in loue , which wisedome biddes me hate , Thou bleardst mine eies & madste me thinke , that faith was mine by fate : By thée those bitter swéetes , did please my taste alway , By thee I thought that loue was light , and payne was but a play : I thought that Bewties blase , was méete to beare the bell , And since I finde my selfe deceyued , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . The glosse of gorgeous courtes , by thée did please mine eye , A stately fight me thought it was , to sée the braue go by : To sée their feathers flaunte , to marke their straunge deuise , To lie along in Ladies lappes , to lispe and make it nice : To fawne and flatter both , I liked sometimes well , But since I see how vayne it is , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . When court had cast me off , I toyled at the plowe My fansie stoode in straunge conceipts , to thriue I wote not how : By mils , by making malte , by shéepe and eke by swyne , By ducke and drake , by pigge and goose , by calues & kéeping kine : By féeding bullockes fat , when pryce at markets fell , But since my swaines eat vp my gaines , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . In hunting of the deare , my fansie tooke delight , All forests knew my folly still , the mooneshine was my light : In frosts I felt no cold , a sunneburnt hew was best , I sweate and was in temper still , my watching séemed rest : What daungers déepe I past , it follie were to tell , And since I sigh to thinke thereon , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . A fansie fedde me ones , to wryte in verse and rime , To wray my griefe , to craue reward , to couer still my crime : To frame a long discourse , on sturring of a strawe , To rumble rime in raffe and ruffe , yet all not worth an hawe : To heare it sayde there goeth , the Man that writes so well , But since I sée , what Poetes bée , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . At Musickes sacred sounde , my fansies eft begonne , In concordes , discordes , notes and cliffes , in tunes of vnisonne : In Hyerarchies and straynes , in restes , in rule and space , In monacordes and mouing moodes , in Burdens vnder base : In descants and in chants , I streined many a yel , But since Musicians be so madde , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . To plant straunge countrie fruites , to sow such séedes likewise , To digge & delue for new found rootes , where old might wel suffise : To proyne the water bowes , to picke the mossie trées , ( Oh how it pleasd my fansie ones ) to knéele vpon my knées , To griffe a pippine stocke , when sappe begins to swell : But since the gaynes scarce quite the cost , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell , which made me follow drommes , Where powdred bullets serues for sauce , to euery dish that commes : Where treason lurkes in trust , where Hope all hartes beguiles , Where mischief lieth still in wayte , when fortune friendly smiles : Where one dayes prison prones , that all such heauens are hell , And such I féele the frutes thereof , Fansie ( quoth he ) farewell . If reason rule my thoughts , and God vouchsafe me grace Then comfort of Philosophie , shall make me chaunge my race : And fonde I shall it finde , that Fansie settes to showe , For weakely stands that building still , which lacketh grace by low : But since I must accept , my fortunes as they fell , I say God send me better spéede , and Fansie now farewell ,

Epilogismus . SEe swéete deceipt , that can it self beguile , Behold selfe loue , which walketh in a net : And séemes vnséene , yet shewes it selfe therewhile , Before such eyes , as are in science set . The Gréene knight here , leaues out his firelocke péece That Fancie hath not yet his last farewell . When Foxes preach , good folke beware your géese , But holla here , my muse to farre doth mell : Who list to marke , what learned preacher sayeth , Must learne withall , for to beleeue his lore : But what he doth , that toucheth nomans fayth , Though words with workes , ( agréed ) persuade the more , The mounting kite , oft lights on homely pray And wisest wittes , may sometimes go astray . FINIS . Tam Marti , quàm Mercurio .

The pleasant Fable of Ferdinando Ieronomi and Leonora de Valasco , translated out of the Italian riding tales of Bartello .

IN the pleasant Countrie of Lombardie , ( and not farre from the Citie of Florence ) there was dwelling sometimes a Lorde of many riche Seignories and dominions , who neuerthelesse bare his name of the Castle of Valasco : this Lord had one only sonne and two daughters : his sonne was called ( during the life of his father ) the heyre of Valasco , who maried a faire Gentlewoman of the house of Bellauista named Leonora : the elder daughter of the Lord of Valasco was called Francischina , a yong woman very toward , bothe in capacitie and other actiue qualities . Nowe the Lord of Valasco hauing already maried his sonne & heyre , and himselfe drawing in age , was desirous to sée his daughters also bestowed before his death , and especially the eldest , who both for beutie and ripenesse of age might often put him in remembrance that shée was a collop of his owne fleshe : and therefore sought meanes to draw vnto his house Ferdinando Ieronimi a yong gentleman of Venice , who delighting more in hawking , hunting , and such other pastimes than he did in studie , had left his owne house in Venice , and was come into Lombardie to take the pleasures of the countrie . So that the Lorde of Valasco knowing him to be of a very good parentage , and therewithall not onely riche but adorned with sundrie good qualities , was desirous ( as is sayd ) to drawe him home to his house ( vnder pretence of hunting and hawking ) to the end he might beholde his fayre daughter Francischina : who both for parentage and other worldly respects , might no lesse content his minde , than hir beautie was likely to haue allured his liking . But it fell oute farre contrary to his desire , for Ferdinando Ieronimi beholding the Lady Leonora , who was in déede very fayre , and of a very courtlike behauiour , became enamoured of hir , and forgetting the curtesie that the Lorde of Valasco had shewed him in entertayning him and his seruaunts , with their horses , by the space of .iiij. moneths ( whiche is a rare curtesie nowe adayes , and especially in suche a countrey ) he sought all meanes possible to make the heyre of Valasco a Becco . And to the end that all menne may perceiue what frutes growe on suche trees , and what issues come of such intents , I will set downe in English the fable as it is written in Italian by Bartello . And bicause I do suppose that Leonora is the same name whiche wee call Elinor in English , and that Francischina also doth import none other than Fraunces , I will so entitle them as to our own countriemen may be moste perspicuous . Vnderstand you then , that Ferdinando hauing nowe a hote affection vnto the sayde Dame Elynor , and thinking it méeter to vtter his firste conceipts in writing than in speache , did write vnto hir as followeth .

FAyre Lady I pray you vnderstande that ( being altogether a straunger in this Countrie ) my good happe hath bene to behold you to my no small contentation . And my euill happe accompanies the same with suche imperfection of my deserts , as that I finde alwayes a ready repulse in mine owne forwardnesse : So that considering the naturall clymate of the countrie , The ayre of that Countrie did ( by all likelyhood ) seeme colder to him than the streetes of Venice . I muste say that I haue found fire in frost . And yet comparing the inequalitie of my deserts , with the least part of your worthinesse , I feele a continuall frost , in my most feruent fire . Such is then the extremitie of my passions , the whiche I could neuer haue bene content to committe vnto this teltale paper , were it not that I am destitute of all other helpe . Accept therefore I beseche you , the earnest good will of a more trustie ( than worthy ) seruaunt , who being thereby encouraged , may supplie the defects of his abilitie with readie triall of duetifull loyaltie . And lette this poore paper ( besprent with salte teares , and blowen ouer with skalding sighes ) bee saued of you as a safegarde for your sampler , or a bottome to winde your sowing silke , that when your last needelfull is wrought , you maye returne to reading thereof and consider the care of hym who is

More youres than his owne . F. I.

THis letter by hir receyued , hir aunswere was this : She tooke occasion one day , at his request to daunce with him : the whiche doing , shée bashfully began to declare vnto him , that she had read ouer the writing whiche he deliuered vnto hir : with like protestation , that ( as at deliuerie thereof , shée vnderstood not for what cause he thrust the same into hir bosome , ) so now shée could not perceyue thereby any part of his meaning : neuerthelesse at laste séemed to take vppon hir the matter , and though shée disabled hir selfe , yet gaue him thankes as &c. Whereupon he brake the braule , and walking abrode , deuised immediatly these fewe verses following .

FAire Bersabe the bright once bathing in a Well , With deawe bedimmd King Dauids eies that ruled Israell . And Salomon himselfe , the source of sapience , Against the force of such assaultes could make but small defence : To it the stoutest yeeld , and strongest feele like wo. Bold Hercules and Sampson both , did proue it to be so . What wonder seemeth then ? when starres stand thicke in skies , If such a blasing starre haue power to dim my dazled eyes ? Lenuoie . To you these fewe suffise , your wittes be quicke and good , You can coniect by chaunge of hew , what humors feede my blood . F. I.

BEfore he culd put these verses in legible writing , it pleased M. Elinor of hir curtesie thus to deale with him . Walking in a garden among diuers other gentlemen & gentlewomen , with a little frowning smyle in passing by him , she deliuered vnto him a paper , with these words . For that I vnderstand not ( quoth she ) the intent of your letters , I pray you take them here againe , and bestow them at your pleasure . The which done and sayde , shée passed by withoute change either of pace or countenaunce . Ferdinando somewhat troubled with hir angrie looke , did sodenly leaue the companie , and walking into a parke neare adioyning , in great rage began to wreake his malice on this poore paper , and the same did rend and teare in péeces . When sodenly at a glaunce he perceued it was not of his owne hand writing , and therewithall abashed , vppon better regard he perceiued in one péece therof written in Romaine these letters Colei : which in english betokeneth SHE : wherfore placing all the peeces therof , as orderly as he could , he found therin written , these few lynes hereafter following .

YOur sodeyn departure , from our pastime yesterday , did enforce mee for lacke of chosen company too returne vntoo my worke , wherein I did so long continue , till at the last the bare bottome did drawe vnto my remembraunce your straunge request . And although I founde therin no iust cause to credite your coloured wordes , yet haue I thought good hereby too requite you with like curtesie , so that at least you shall not condemne mee for vngratefull . But as to the matter therin conteyned : if I could perswade my selfe , that there were in mee any coales to kyndle suche sparkes of fire , I might yet peraduenture bee drawn to beleue that your minde were frosen with like feare . But as no smoke ariseth , where no cole is kindled , so without cause of affection the passion is easie to be cured . This is all that I vnderstand of your darke letters : and as much as I meane to answere .

Colei : in english SHE . :

FErdinando immediatly vpon receyte héerof , grew in ielosie that the same was not hir owne deuise . And therin I haue no lesse allowed his iudgement , than commended his inuention of the verses , and letters before rehersed . For as by the stile this letter of hirs bewrayeth that it was not penned by a womans capacitie , so the sequele of hir doings may discipher , that shée had mo redy clearkes than trustie seruants in store . Well yet as the perfect hound , when he hath chased the hurt deere , amidde the whole heard , will neuer giue ouer till he haue singled it againe . Euen so Ferdinando though somwhat abashed with this doubtfull shewe , yet stil constant in his former intention , ceased not by all possible meanes , too bring this Déere yet once agayne to the bowes , wherby shée might be the more surely stryken : and so in the end enforced to yéeld . Wherfore he thought not best to commit the sayde verses willingly into hir custodie , but priuily lost them in hir chamber , written in counterfeit . And after on the next day thought better to replie , either vpon hir , or vppon hir Secretary in this wise as here followeth .

THE much that you haue answered is very much , and much more than I am able to reply vnto : neuerthelesse in myne owne defence , thus much I alleage : that if my sodein departure pleased not you , I cannot my selfe therwith be pleased , as one that seeketh not to please many , and more desirous to please you than any . The cause of myne affection , I suppose you behold dayly . For ( self loue auoyded ) euery wight may iudge of themselues as much as reason perswadeth : the which if it be in your good nature suppressed with bashfulnesse , then mighty loue graunt , you may once behold my wan cheekes washed in woe , that therein my salt teares may be a myrrour to represent your owne shadow , and that like vnto Nacissus you may be constrayned to kisse the cold waues , wherein your counterfait is so liuely purtrayed . For if aboundance of other matters fayled to drawe my gazing eyes in contemplation of so rare excellency , yet might these your letters both frame in me an admiration of such diuine esprite , and a confusion too my dull vnderstanding , whiche so rashly presumed too wander in this endles Laberinth . Such I esteeme you , and thereby am become such , and euen

HE. F.I.

THis letter finished and fayre written ouer , his chaunce was to méete hir alone in a Gallery of the same house : ( where his manhood in this kinde of combat was firste tried : ) and therein I can compare him to a valiant Prince , who distressed with power of enemies had committed the safegard of his person to treaty of Ambassade , and sodenly ( surprised with a Camassado in his owne trenches ) was enforced to yéeld as prisoner . Euen so Ferdinando Ieronimi lately ouercome by the beautifull beames of this Dame Elynor , and hauing now committed his moste secrete intent to these late rehearsed letters , was at vnwares encountred with his friendly foe , and constrayned either to prepare some new defence , or else like a recreant to yéeld himselfe as already vanquished . Wherefore ( as in a traunce ) he lifted vp his dazled eies , and so continued in a certen kind of admiration , not vnlike the Astronomer , who ( hauing after a whole nights trauaile , in the grey morning found his desired starre ) hath fired his hungry eies to behold the Comete long looked for : wherat this gracious Dame ( as one that could discerne the sunne before hir chamber windowes were wide open ) did deign to embolden the fainting Knight with these or like woordes .

I perceiue nowe ( quod she ) howe mishap doth follow me , that hauing chosen this walke for a simple solace , I am here disquieted by the man that meaneth my destruction : and therwithall , as half angry , began to turne hir backe , when Ferdinando ( now awaked ) gan thus salute hir .

Mistresse ( quod he ) and I perceiue now , that good hap haunts me , for being by lacke of oportuni●ie constreined to commit my welfare vnto these blabbing leaues of bewraying paper ( shewing that in his hand ) I am here recomforted with happy view of my desired ioy : and therewithall reuerently kissing his hand , did softly distreyne hir slender arme , and so slayed hir departure . The firste blow thus profered and defended , they walked and talked trauersing diuerse wayes , wherein I doubte not but that the Venetian coulde quite himselfe resonably well . For after long talke shee was contented to accept his proffered seruice , but yet still disabling hir selfe , and séeming to maruell what cause had moued him to subiect his libertie so wilfully , or at least in a prison ( as shée termed it ) so vnworthy . Wherevnto I néede not rehearse his answere , but suppose now , that thus they departed : sauing I had forgotten this : shée required of him the last rehearsed letter , saying that his firste was loste , and nowe shée lacked a new bottome for hir silke , the whiche I warrant you , he graunted : and so preffering to take an humble congé by Bezolas manos , she graciously gaue him the Zuccado dez labros : and so for then departed . And there vppon recompting hir woordes , he compiled these following , whiche he termed Terza sequenza , too sweete Mistresse SHE .

OF thee deare Dame , three lessons would I learne : What reason first persuades the foolish Fly ( As soone as shee a candle can discerne ) To play with flame , till shee bee burnt thereby ? Or what may moue the Mouse to byte the bayte Which strikes the trappe , that stops hir hungry breth ? What calles the bird , where snares of deepe deceit Are closely coucht to draw hir to hir death ? Consider well , what is the cause of this , And though percase thou wilt not so confesse , Yet deepe desire , to gayne a heauenly blisse , May drowne the minde in dole and darke distresse : Oft is it seene ( whereat my hart may bleede ) Fooles play so long till they be caught in deede . And then It is a heauen to see them hop and skip , And seeke all shiftes to shake their shackles off : It is a world , to see them hang the lip , Who ( earst ) at loue , were wont to skorne and skoff . But as the Mouse , once caught in crafty trap , May bounce and beate against the boorden wall , Till shee haue brought hir head in such mishap , That downe to death hir fainting lymbes must fall : And as the Flie once singed in the flame , Cannot commaund hir wings to waue away : But by the heele , shee hangeth in the same Till cruell death hir hasty iourney stay : So they that seeke to breake the linkes of loue Striue with the streame , and this by paine I proue . For when I first beheld that heauenly hewe of thine , Thy stately stature , and thy comly grace , I must confesse these dazled eies of mine Did wincke for feare , when I first viewd thy face : But bold desire did open them againe , And had mee looke till I had lookt to long , I pitied them that did procure my paine , And lou'd the lookes that wrought me all the wrong : And as the byrd once caught ( but woorks hir woe ) That striues to leaue the limed twigges behind : Euen so the more I straue to parte thee fro , The greater grief did growe within my minde : Remedilesse then must I yeeld to thee , And craue no more , thy seruaunt but to bee . Till then and euer . HE. F.I.

WHen he had well sorted this sequence , he sought oportunitie to leaue it where shée might finde it before it were lost . And nowe the coles began to kindle , whereof ( but ere while ) shée feigned hir selfe altogither ignorant . The flames began to breake out on euery side : and she to quench them , shut vp hir selfe in hir chamber solitarily . But as the smithie gathers greater heate by casting on of water , euen so the more she absented hir self from company , the fresher was the griefe whiche galded hir remembrance : so that at laste the report was spredde thorough the house , that Mistresse Elinor was sicke . At which newes Ferdinando tooke small comfort : neuerthelesse Dame Venus with good aspect did yet thus much furder his enterprise . The Dame ( whether it were by sodaine chaunge , or of wonted custome ) fell one day into a greate bléeding at the nose . For whiche accident the sayde Venetian , amongst other pretie conceits , had a present remedie : Whereby he tooke occasion ( when they of the house had all in vayne sought many waies to stoppe hir bléeding ) to worke his feate in this wise : Firste he pleaded ignorance , as though he knewe not hir name , and therefore demaunded the same of Mistresse Fraunces , who when shée had to him declared that hir name was Elinor , hee sayde these woordes or very like in effect : If I thought I shoulde not offend Mistres Elynor , I woulde not doubte to stoppe hir bléeding , without eyther payne or difficultie . This Gentlewoman somewhat tickled with his woordes , did incontinent make relation thereof to the sayde Mistresse Elynor : who immediately ( declaring that Ferdinando was hir late receyued seruaunt ) returned the saide messanger vnto him with especiall charge , that hee shoulde employ his deuoyre towardes the recouery of hir health : with whome the same Ferdinando repayred to the chamber of his desired : and finding hir set in a chayre , leaning on the one side ouer a Siluer bason : After his due reuerence , hée layde his hande on hir Temples , and priuily rounding hir in hir eare , desired hir to commaunde a Hazell sticke and a knyfe : the whiche beyng brought , hée deliuered vnto hir , saying on this wise . Mistresse I will speake certaine woordes in secrete to my selfe , and doe require no more : but when you heare me saie openly this woorde Amen , that you with this knyfe will make a nicke vppon this Hazell sticke : and when you haue made fiue nickes , commaunde mée also to cease . The Dame partly of good will to the Knight , and partly to be stenched of hir bléeding , commaunded hir mayde , and required the other Gentils , somewhat to stande aside : whiche done , he began his Oraisons , wherein he had not long muttered before he pronounced Amen , wherwith the Lady made a nicke on the sticke with hir knyfe . The saide Ferdinando continued to an other Amen , when the Lady hauing made an other nick , felt hir bléeding began to steynch : & so by the third Amen throughly steinched . Ferdinando then chaunging his prayers into priuat talk , said softly vnto hir : Mystres , I am glad that I am hereby enabled to doe you some seruice , and as the staunching of your owne bloud may some way recomfort you , so if the shedding of my bloud may any way content you , I beséech you commaund it , for it shal be euermore readily employed in your seruice : and therwithal with a loud voyce pronounced Amen : wherewith the good Lady making a nick , did secretly answere thus : Good seruant ( quod shée ) I must néedes think my selfe right happy to haue gained your seruice and good will , and be you sure , that although ther be in me no such desert as may draw you into this depth of affection : yet such as I am , I shal be alwayes glad to shewe my self thankfull vnto you . And now , if you thinke your self assured that I shall bleede no more , doe then pronounce your fifth Amen : the which pronounced , shée made also hir fifth nicke , and held vp hir head , calling the company vnto hir , and declaring vnto them , that hir bléeding was throughly steinched . And Ferdinando tarying a while in the chamber , found oportunitie to loose his sequence néere too his desired Mistres : And after congé taken , departed . After whose departure the Lady arose out of hir chayre , and hir mayd going about to remoue the same , espied , and toke vp the writing : the which hir mistres perceiuing , gan sodenly coniecture that the same had in it some like matter to the verses once before left in like maner , and made semblant to mistrust that the same should be some wordes of coniuration : and taking it from hir mayd , did peruse it , and immediatly said too the company , that she would not forgo the same for a great treasure . But to be plain , I think that ( Ferdinando excepted ) she was glad to be rid of all company , vntill she had with sufficient leasure turned ouer and retossed euery card in this sequence . And not long after being now tickled thorough all the vaines with an vnknown humour , aduentured of hir selfe to commit vnto a like Ambassadour the discyphring of that which hitherto shée had kept more secret : and therevpon wrot with hir own hand and head in this wyse .

GOod seruant , I am out of al doubt much beholding vnto you , and I haue great comfort by your meanes in the steinching of my bloud , and I take great comfort too reade your letters and I haue found in my chamber diuers songs which I think too be of your making , and I promise you , they are excellently made : and I assure you that I wil bee ready to doe for you any pleasure that I can , during my life : wherefore I pray you come to my chamber once in a day , till I come abroad again , and I wil be glad of your company : and for because that you haue promised to be my HE : I will take vpon me this name , your SHE .

THis letter was doubtles of hir own hande writing : and as therin the Reader may finde great difference of Style , from hir former letter , so may you now vnderstand the cause . Shée had in the same house a friend , a seruant , a Secretary : what should I name him ? such one as shée estéemed in time past more than was cause in tyme present . And to make my tale good , I will ( by the same words that Bartello vseth ) discribe him vnto you . He was in heigth the proportion of two Pigmeis , in bredth the thicknesse of two bacon hogges , of presumption a Gyant , of power a Gnatte , Apishly wytted , Knauishly mannered , and crabbedly fauord . What was there in him then to drawe a fayre Ladies liking ? Marry sir euen all in all , a well lyned pursse , wherewith he could at euery call , prouide suche pretie conceytes as pleased hir péeuish fantasie : and by that meanes hée had throughly ( long before ) insinuated him selfe with this amorous dame . This manling , this minion , this slaue , this secretary , was nowe by occasion rydden too Florence forsothe : and though his absenee were vnto hir a disfurnishing of eloquence : it was yet vntoo Ferdinando Ieromini an opportunitie of good aduauntage : for when hée perceiued the change of hir stile , and thereby grewe in some suspition that the same procéeded by absence of hir chiefe Chauncellor , he thought good now to smyte while the yron was hotte , and to lend his Mistresse suche a penne in hir Secretaries absence , as hée should neuer be able ( at his returne ) to amend the well writing therof . Wherfore according to hir commaund he repayred once euery day to hir chamber , at the least whereas hée guided himselfe so wel , and could deuise such store of sundry pleasures and pastymes , that he grew in fauour not onely with his desired , but also with the rest of the gentlewomen . And one day passing the time amongst them , their playe grew to this end , that his Mistresse , being Quéene , demaunded of him these thrée questions . Seruant ( quod she ) I charge you , aswell vppon your allgiance being nowe my subiect , as also vpon your fidelitie , hauing vowed your seruice vnto me , that you aunswere me these thrée questions , by the very truth of your secret thought . First , what thing in this vniuersall world doth most reioyce and comfort you ? Ferdinando Ieronimi abasing his eyes towardes the ground , toke good aduisement in his aunswere , when a fayre gentlewoman of the company clapped him on the shoulder , saying , how now sir , is your hand on your halfpeny ? To whome he aunswered , no fayre Lady , my hand is on my harte , and yet my hart is not in myne owne hands : wherewithall abashed , turning towards dame Elinor he sayde : My souereigne and Mistresse , according to the charge of your command , and the dutie that I owe you , my tongue shall bewraye vnto you the truthe of mine intent . At this present a rewarde giuen me without desert , doth so reioyce mée with continuall remembraunce , that though my minde be so occupied to thinke thereon , as that daye nor night I can bée quiet from that thought , yet the ioye and pleasure whiche I conceiue in the same is such , that I can neyther be cloyed with continuaunce thereof , nor yet afraide , that any mishappe can counteruayle so greate a treasure . This is to me suche a heauen to dwell in , as that I féede by day , and repose by night vppon the freshe recorde of this reward . This ( as Bartello sayeth ) he ment by the kisse that she lent him in the Gallery , and by the profession of hir laste letters and woordes . Well , though this aunswere bee somewhat mistie , yet let his excuse be : that taken vppon the sodaine , he thought better to aunswere darkly , than to be mistrusted openly . Hir second question was , what thing in this life did moste gréeue his harte , and disquiet his minde , whervnto he answered . That although his late rehersed ioy were incomparable , yet the greatest enimie that disturbed the same , was the priuie worme of his owne giltie conscience , which accused him euermore with great vnworthinesse : and that this was his greatest griefe . The Lady biting vpon the bitte at his cunning answeres made vnto these two questions , ganne thus replie . Seruaunt , I had thought to haue touched you yet nearer with my thirde question , but I will refrayne to attempt your pacience : and nowe for my third demaund , aunswere me directly in what manner this passion doth handle you ? and howe these contraries may hang together by any possibilitie of concorde ? for your woordes are straunge . Ferdinando now rousing himselfe boldly , tooke occasion thus to handle his aunswere . Mistresse ( quod he ) my woordes in déede are straunge , but yet my passion is muche straunger : and thervpon this other day to content mine owne fantasie I deuised a Sonet , which although it bée a péece of Cocklorels musicke , and suche as I might be ashamed to publish in this company , yet bicause my truth in this answere may the better appeare vnto you , I pray you vouchsafe to receiue the same in writing : and drawing a paper out of his pocket , presented it to hir , wherin was written this Sonet .

LOue , hope , and death , do stirre in me such strife , As neuer man but I led such a life . First burning loue doth wound my hart to death , And when death comes at call of inward griefe , Colde lingering hope doth feede my fainting breath Against my will , and yeeldes my wound reliefe : So that I liue , but yet my life is such , As death would neuer greue me halfe so much . No comfort then but only this I tast , To salue such sore , such hope will neuer want , And with such hope , such life will euer last , And with such life , such sorrowes are not skant . Oh straunge desire , O life with torments tost Through too much hope , mine onely hope is lost . Euen HE F.I.

THis sonet was highly commended , and in my iudgement it deserueth no lesse . His dutie thus perfourmed , their pastimes ended , and at their departure for a watch worde hée counselled his Mistresse by little and little to walke abrode : saying , that the Gallery neare adioyning was so pleasaunt , as if he were halfe dead he thought that by walking therin hée might be halfe & more reuiued . Think you so seruaunt ( quod she ? ) and the last tyme that I walked there , I suppose I toke the cause of my malady : but by your aduise ( for that you haue so clerkly steynched my bléeding ) I will assay to walke there to morow . Mistres quod he , and in more ful accomplishment of my duetie towards you , and in sure hope that you will vse the same onelie to your owne priuate commoditie , I will there awaite vpon you , and betwene you and me wil teach you the ful order how to steynch the bléeding of any creature , wherby you shal be as cunning as my self . Gramercy good seruant , quod she , I thinke you lost the same in writing here yesterday , but I cannot vnderstand it : & therfore to morrow ( if I féele my self any thing amended ) I wil sende for you thither to enstruct me throughly : thus they departed . And at supper time , the Lord of Valasco finding fault that his gestes stomacke serued him no better , began too accuse the grosnesse of his vyands , to whom one of the gentlewomen which had passed the afternoone in his company , answered . Nay sir , quod she , this gentleman hath a passion , the which once in a day at the least doth kill his appetite . Are you so well acquainted with the disposition of his body ( quod the Lord of the house ? ) by his owne saying , quod she , & not otherwise . Fayre ladie quod Ferdinando , you either mistoke me or ouerheard me then : for I told of a confortable humor which so fed me with continuall remembrance of ioy , as that my stomack being ful therof doth desire in maner none other vittayles . Why sir , ( quod the host , ) do you thē●iue by loue ? God forbid sir quod Ferdinando , for then my cheekes wold be much thinner than they be : but there are diuers other greater causes of ioy , than the doubtful lots of loue : & for mine own part , to be playn , I cannot loue , & I dare not hate . I would I thought so , quod the gentlewoman . And thus with prety nyppes , they passed ouer their supper : which ended , the Lord of the house required Ferdinando Ieronimi to daunce and passe the time with the gentlewomen , which he refused not to doe . But sodenly , before the musicke was well tuned , came out Dame Elynor in hir night attyre , and said to the Lord , the ( supposing the solitarinesse of hir chamber had encreased hir maladie ) she came out for hir better recreation to sée them daunce . Well done daughter ( quod the Lorde . ) And I Mistres ( quod Ferdinando ) would gladly bestowe the leading of you about this great chamber , to driue away the faintnesse of your feuer . No good seruaunt , ( quod the Lady , ) but in my stéede , I pray you daunce with this fayre Gentlewoman , pointing him too the Lady that had so taken him vp at supper . Ferdinando to auoyd mistrust , did agrée too hir request without furder entreaty . The daunce begon , this Knight marched on with the Image of S. Frances in his hand , and S. Elynor in his hart . The violands at end of the pauion staied a whyle : in whiche time this Dame sayde to Ferdinando Ieronimi on this wise : I am right sory for you in two respects , although the familiarity haue hytherto had no great continuance betwene vs : and as I do lament your case , so doo I reioyce ( for myne own contentation ) that I shal now sée a due triall of the experiment which I haue long desired . This sayd , she kept silence : When Ferdinando ( somwhat astonied with hir straunge spéech ) thus answered : Mistresse although I cannot conceiue the meaning of your woordes , yet by curtesie I am constrayned to yéelde you thankes for your good wil , the which appeareth no lesse in lamenting of mishappes , than in reioycing at good fortune . What experiment you meane to trie by mée , I knowe not , but I dare assure you , that my skill in experiments is very simple . Herewith the Instruments sounded a new Measure , and they passed forthwards , leauing to talke , vntill the noise ceassed : whiche done , the Gentlewoman replied . I am sory sir , that you did erewhile , denie loue and all his lawes , and that in so open audience . Not so ( quod Ferdinando ) but as the woorde was roundly taken , so can I readely answere it by good reason . Well quod shée , howe if the hearers will admit no reasonable answere ? My reasons yet bée neuerthelesse ( quod he ) in reasonable iudgement . Herewith shée smiled , and he cast a glance towards dame Elinor , (a) (a) as who sayeth askances arte thou pleased ? Againe the viols called them forthwardes , and againe at the ende of the braule sayde Ferdinando Ieronimi to this Gentlewoman : I pray you Mistres , and what may be the second cause of your sorow sustained in my behalfe ? Nay soft ( quod she ) percase I haue not yet tolde you the first , but content your selfe , for the second cause you shall neuer know at my handes , vntill I sée due triall of the experiment which I haue long desired . Why then ( quod he ) I can but wishe a present occasion to bring the same to effect , to the end that I might also vnderstand the mistery of your meaning . And so might you faile of your purpose ( quod she ) for I meane to be better assured of him that shal know the depth of mine intent in such a secrete , than I do suppose that any creature ( one except ) may be of you . Gentlewoman ( quod he ) you speake Greeke , the which I haue nowe forgotten , and mine instructers are to farre from mée at this present to expound your words . Or els to neare ( quod she ) and so smiling stayed hir talke , when the Musicke called them to another daunce . Whiche ended , Ferdinando halfe afrayd of false suspect , and more amazed at this straunge talke , gaue ouer , and bringing Mistresse Fraunces to hir place , was thus saluted by his Mistresse . Seruaunt ( quod shée ) I had done you great wrong to haue daunced with you , consideringe that this gentlewoman and you had former occasion of so waighty conference . Mistresse sayd Ferdinando you had done mée great pleasure , for by our conference I haue but brought my braynes in a busie coniecture , I doubt not ( sayd his Mistresse ) but you wil end that busines easely . It is hard said he to ende the thing , whereof yet I haue founde no begininge . His Mistresse with chaunge of countenaunce kept silence whereat dame Fraunces reioycinge , cast out this bone to gnawe on . I perceyue ( quod she ) it is euill to halte before a Creple . Ferdinando perceyuing now that his Mistresse waxed angry , thought good on hir behalfe thus to aunswere : and it is euill to hop before them that runne for the Bell : his Mistresse replied , and it is euill to hange the Bell at their heeles which are alwayes running . The Lord of he Castle ouerhearing these proper quippes , rose out of his chaire , & comming towards Ferdinando required him to daunce a Gallyard . Sir sayd he I haue hitherto at your apoyntment but walked about the house , now if you be desirous to see one tomble a turne or twayne , it is like ynough that I mighte prouoke you to laugh at mee , but in good fayth my dauncing dayes are almost done , and therfore sir ( quod he ) I pray you speake to them that are more nymble at trippinge on the toe . Whilest hée was thus saying dame Elynor had made hir Congey , and was now entring the doore of hir chamber when Ferdinando al amazed at hir sodeyne departure followed to take leaue of his Mistresse : but she more then angrie , refused to heare his good night , and entring hir chamber caused hir mayde to clappe to the doore . Ferdinando with heauie cheare returned to his company , and Mistresse Fraunces to toutch his sore with a corosiue , sayd to him softly in this wise . Sir you may now perceyue that this our countrie cannot allowe the French manner of dauncing , for they ( as I haue heard tell ) do more commonly daunce to talke , then entreate to daunce . Fardenando hoping to driue out one naile with another and thinking this a meane moste conuenient to suppresse all ielous supposes , tooke Mistresse Fraunces by the hand and with a heauy smile aunswered . Mistresse and I ( because I haue seene the french maner of dauncing ) will eftsonnes entreat you to daunce a Bargynet : what meane you by thys quod mistresse Fraunces . If it please you to followe ( quod he ) you shall sée that I can iest without ioye , and laugh without lust , and calling the musitions , caused them softly to sounde the Tynternall , when he clearing his voyce did Allá Napolitana applie these verses following , vnto the measure .

IN prime of lustie yeares , when Cupid caught mee in , And nature taught the waie to loue , how I might best begin : To please my wandring eie , in beauties tickle trade , To gaze on eache that passed by , a carelesse sporte I made . With sweete entising baite , I fisht for manie a dame , And warmed me by manie a fire , yet felt I not the flame : But when at last I spied , that face that pleasde me most , The coales were quicke , the woode was drie , & I began to tost . And smiling yet full oft , I haue behelde that face , When in my hearte I might bewaile mine owne vnluckie case : And oft againe with lokes that might bewraie my griefe , I pleaded harde for iust rewarde , and sought to finde reliefe . What will you more ? so oft my gazing eies did seeke , To see the rose and Lillie striue vpon that liuelie cheeke : Till at the last I spied , and by good proofe I founde , That in that face was painted plaine , the pearcer of my wound Then ( all to late ) agast , I did my foote retire , And sought with secret sighes to quench my gredie skalding fire But lo , I did preuaile asmuche to guide my will , As he that seekes with halting heele , to hop against the hill . Or as the feeble sight , woulde searche the sunnie beame , Euen so J founde but labour lost , to striue against the streame . Then gan I thus resolue , since liking forced loue . Should I mislike my happie choice , before I did it proue ? And since none other ioye I had but her to see , Soulde I retire my deepe desire ? no no it would not bee : Though great the duetie were , that shee did well deserue , And I poore man , vnworthie am so wotthie a wight to serue . Yet hope my comfort staide , that she would haue regard , To my good will that nothing crau'd , but like for iust reward : I see th● faucon gent sometime will take delight . To seeke the folace of hir wing , and dallie with a kite . The fairest Woulf will choose the foulest for hir make , And why ? because he doth indure most sorrow for hir sake : Euen so had like I hope , when dolefull daies were spent When wearie wordes were wasted well , to open true entent . When fluddes of flowing teares , had washt my weeping eies , When trembling tongue had troubled hir , with loud lamenting cries : At last hir worthy will would pittie this my plaint , And comfort me hir owne poore slaue , whom feare had made so faint . Wherefore I made a vowe , the stoany rocke should start , Ere I presume , to let her slippe out of my faithfull heart . Lenuoie . And when she sawe by proofe , the pith of my good will , She tooke in worth this simple song , for want of better skill : And as my iust deserts , hir gentle hart did moue , She was content to answere thus : I am content to loue : F. I.

BY these verses he ment in clowdes to discipher vnto Mistresse Fraunces such matter as she wold snatch at , and yet could take no good hold of the same . Furthermore , it aunswered very aptly to the note whiche the musicke sounded , as the skilfull reader by due triall may approue . This singing daunce , or daunsing song ended , Mistresse Fraunces giuing due thanks , séemed weary also of the company , and profering to departe , gaue yet this farewell to Ferdinando not vexed by choller , but pleased with contentation , & called away by heauy sléepe : I am constreyned ( quod she ) to bid you good night , and so turning to the rest of the company , tooke hir leaue . Then the Maister of the house commaunded a torch to light Ferdinando to his lodging , where the sodaine chaunge of his Mistresse countenance , togither with the straungenesse of Mistresse Fraunces talke , made such an encounter in his mind , that he could take no reste that night : wherefore in the morning rising very earely ( although it were farre before his Mistresse hower ) he cooled his choller by walking in the Gallery neare to hir lodging , and there in this passion cepiled these verses following .

A Cloud of care hath coured all my coste , And stormes of strife doo threaten to appeare : The waues of woo , which I mistrusted moste , Haue broke the bankes wherein my life lay cleere : Chippes of ill chaunce , are fallen amyd my choyce , To marre the mynd , that ment for to reioyce . Before J sought , J founde the hauen of hap , Wherin ( once found ) I sought to shrowd my ship , But lowring loue hath lifte me from hir lap , And crabbed lot beginnes to hang the lip : The proppes of darke mistrust do fall so thick , They pearce my coate , and touch my skin at quick . What may be saide , where truth cannot preuaile ? What plea maie serue , where will it selfe is iudge ? What reason rules , where right and reason faile ? Remedilesse then must the guiltlesse trudge : And seeke out care , to be the caruing knife , To cut the thred that lingreth such a life . F. I.

THis is but a rough méeter , and reason , for it was deuised in great disquiet of minde , and written in rage , but to the matter . When he had long ( and all in vaine ) looked for the comming of his Mistresse into hir appoynted walke : he wandred into the Parke néere adioyning to the Castle wall , where his chaunce was to meete Mistres Fraunces , accompanied with one other Gentlewoman , by whome hee passed with a reuerence of curtesie : and so walking on , came into the side of a thicket , where he satte downe vnder a tree to allay his sadnesse with solitarines . Mystresse Fraunces , partely of curtesie and affection , and partly to content hir minde by continuance of such talke as they had commenced ouer night , entreated hir companion to goe with hir vnto this Trée of reformation , whereas they founde the Knight with hys armes foulded in a heauy kinde of contemplation , vnto whome Mistresse Fraunces stepped a pace ( right softhlye ) and at vnwares gaue this salutation . I little thought Syr Knight ( quoth shee ) by your Euensong yesternight , to halte founde you presentlye at suche a Morrow Masse , but I perceyue you serue your Saint with double deuotion : and I p●ny God graunt you trouble meede for youre true intent . He being taken thus vpon the sodaine , coulde none otherwise aunswere but thus : I toulde you mistres ( quod hée ) that I coulde laugh without lust , and ●est without ioye : and therewithall starting vp , with a more bold countenaunce came towards the Dames , proffering vnto them his seruice , to waight vpon them homewardes . I haue hearde saye ofte times ( quod Mistresse Fraunces ) that it is harde to serue two Maysters at one time , but we wyll be ryght glad of your company . I thanke you ( quod hée ) and so walking on with them , fell into sundrye discourses , still refusing to touche any part of theyr formor communication , vntill Mystresse Fraunces sayde vnto him : by my troth ( quod shee ) I woulde bée your debtour these two daies , to aunswere me truely but vnto one question that I will propound : fayre Gentlewoman ( quod he ) you shall not neede to become my debtour , but if it please you to quit question by question , I will bee more readye to gratifie you in this request , then eyther reason requireth , or than you woulde be willing to worke my contentation Maister Fardinando Ieronomij ( quod she , & that sadly ) peraduenture you know but a litle how willing I would be to procure your contation , but you know that hitherto familliarytie hath taken , no déepe roote beetwixt vs twaine . And though I finde in you no manner of cause whereby I might doubt to commit this or greater matter vnto you , yet haue I stayed hitherto so to doe , in doubt least you might thereby iustlie condemne me both of arrogancy and lacke of discretion , wherwith I must yet foolishlye affirme , that I haue with great paine brydeled my tongue from disclosing the same vnto you . Suche is then the good will that I beare towardes you , the which if you rather iudge to be impudencie , then a friendely meaning , I may then curse the hower that I first concluded thus to deale with you : herewithall beeing nowe redde for chaste bashefulnesse , shee abased hir eies , and slaied hir taulke : to whome Fardinando thus aunswered . Mystresse Fraunces , if I shoulde with so excéeding villanye requight suche and so exceeding great courtesye , I might not onelye seeme to digenerate from all gentrye , but also to differre in behauiour from all the reste of my lyfe spent : wherfore to be playne with you in fewe wordes I thinke my selfe so muche bounde vnto you for diuers respects , as if abilitie doe not fayle me , you shall finde mee mindefull in requitall of the same , and for disclosing your mind to me , you may if so if please you aduenture it without aduenture , for by this Sunne quod he , I will not deceyue such trust as you shall laye vppon mee , and furthermore , so farre foorth as I may , I will be yours in any respect : wherfore I beseech you accept me for your faithfull friend , and so shall you surely finde me . Not so , quod shee , but you shal be my Trust , if you vouchsafe the name , and I wil be to you as you shall please to tearme me : my Hope ( quod hee ) if you be so pleased : and thus agreed , they two walked a parte from the other Gentlewoman , and fell into sad talke , wherein Mistresse Fraunces dyd verye curteousely declare vnto him , that in d●ede , one cause of hir sorrow sustained in his behalfe , was that he had sayde so openly ouer night , that hee coulde not loue , for she perceyued verye well the affection betweene him and Madame Elynor , and shee was also aduertised that Dame Elynor stoode in the portall of hir chamber , harkening to the talke that they hadde at supper that right , wherefore she seemed to be sorry that such a worde ( rashely escaped ) might become great hinderaunce vnto his desire : but a greater cause of hir griefe was ( as shee declared ) that his happe was to bestow his liking so vnworthylye , for shee seemed to accuse Dame Elinor , for the most vnconstant woman liuing : In full proofe whereof , she bewrayed v●to him , how she the same Dame Elynor , had long time bene yelded to the Minion Secretary , whom I haue befor described : in whome though the robe ( quod the ) no one poynt of woorthinesse , yet shameth she not to vse him as hir dearest friend , or rather hir holi●st Idoll and that this not withstanding Dame Elynor had bene also sundry tymes woone to choyce of chaunge , as she named vnto Ferdinando two Gentlemen wherof the one was named Hercule Donaty . and the other Haniball de Cosmis . by whom she was during sundrie times of their seuerall aboad in those countries , entreated to like courtisie , for these causes the Dame Fraunces séemed to mislike his choyce , and to lament that she doubted in processe of time to sée him abused .

The experiment she ment was this , for that she thought Ferdenando ( I vse Bartelloes wordes ) a man in euery respect very worthy to haue the seuerall vse of a more commodious common , she hopped now to sée if his inclosure there of might be defensible against hir sayd Secretary , and such like . These thinges and diuers other of great importaunce , this courteouse Lady Fraunces dyd friendly disclose vnto hym , and further more , did both instruct and aduise him to procéede in his enterprise . Nowe to make my talke good , and least the Reader might bée drawen in a ielose suppose of this Lady Fraunces , I must let you vnderstand that she was a virgin of rare chastity , singuler capacitie , notable modestie , & excelent beauty : and though Ferdenando Ieronimij had cast his affection on the other ( being a mery woman ) yet was there in their beauties no great difference : but in all other good giftes a wonderfull diuersitie , as much as might betwene constancie & flattring fantasie , betwene womanly countenaunce and girlish garishnes , betwene hot dissimulation & temperat fidelity . Now if any man wil curiously aske the question why he should chuse the one and leaue the other , ouer & besides the common prouerbe ( So mani men so manie mindes ) thus may be answered we sée by common experience , that the highest flying faucon , doth more commonly praye vpon the corn fed crow & the simple shiftles doue , then on the mounting kyte : & why ? because the one is ouercome with lesse difficultye then that other . Thus much in defence of this Lady Fraunces , & to excuse the choyce of Ferdenando who thought himself now no lesse beholding to good fortune , to haue found such a trusty friend , then bounden to Dame Venus , to haue wonne such a Mistres . And to returne vnto my pretence , vnderstand you , that he ( being now with these two fair Ladies come very néere the castle ) grew in some ielouse doubt ( as on his own behalf ) whether he wer best to break company or not . When his assured Hope , perceiuing the same , gan thus reconfort him : good sir ( quod she ) if you trusted your trusty friends , you should not néede thus cowardly to stand in dread of your friendly enimies . Well said in faith ( quod Ferdinando ) & I must confesse , you were in my bosome before I wist : but yet I haue heard said often , that in Trust is treason . Wel spoken for your self quod his Hope . Ferdinando now remembring that he had but erewhile taken vpon him the name of hir Trust , came home per misericordiam , when his Hope entring the Castle gate , caught hold of his lap , & half by force led him by the gallery vnto his Mistres chamber : wheras after a litle dissembling disdain , he was at last by the good helpe of his Hope , right thankfully receiued : & for his Mistresse was now ready to dine , he was therfore for that time arested there , & a supersedias sent into the great chamber vnto the Lord of the house , who expected his coming out of the parke . The dinner ended , & he throughly contented both with welfare & welcome , they fell into sundry deuices of pastime : at last Ferdinando taking into his hand a Lute that lay on his Mistresse bed , did vnto the note of the Venetian galliard apply the Italian dittie written by the worthy Bradamant vnto the noble Rugier , as Ariosto hath it . Rugier qual semper fui , &c. but his Mistres could not be quiet vntill she heard hym repeat the Tinternell which he vsed ouer night , the whiche he refused not at that ende , wherof his Mistres thinking how she had shewed hir selfe to vse any further dissimulation , especially perceyuyng the toward enclination of hir seruants Hope , fel to flat and playne dealing & walked to the window , called hir seruaunt apart vnto hir , of whom she demaunded secretly and in sad earnest , who deuised this Tinternell ? My Fathers Sisters brothers sonne ( quod he ) His mistres laughing right hartely , demaunded yet a gain , by whome the same was figured : by a niece to an Aunt of yours , Mistres ( quod he ) . Well then seruaunt quoth shee , I sweare vnto you by my Fathers Soule , that my mothers youngest daughter , doth loue your fathers eldest sone aboue any ceature liuing . Fardenando hereby recomforted gan thus replie . Mistres , though my fathers eldest son be far vnworthy of so noble a match , yet since it pleaseth hir so wel to except him , I would thus much say behind his bark , that your mothers daughter hath done him some wrong : and wherein seruaunt ( quod she ) by my troth Mistres ( quod he ) it is not yet xx . houres , since with out touch of brest , she gaue him such a nip by the harte , as did altogether bereaue him his nightes rest with the bruse therof . Well seruaunt ( quod she ) content your selfe , for your sake , I will speake to hyr to prouyde hym a playster , the which I my selfe will applye to hys hurt : And to the ende it maye worke the better wyth hym , I will puruay a lodging for hym , wher hereafter he maye sléepe at more quiet .

This sayd : the rosie hewe , disdained hir sikely chekes , and she returned to the company , leauing Ferdinando rauished betwene hope and dread , as on that could neither coniecture the meaning of hir misticall wordes , nor assuredly trust vnto the knot of hyr sliding affectiones . When the Lady Fraunces , comming to him , demaunded , what dream you sir ? Yea mary doe I fayre Lady ( quod he ) . And what was your dream , sir ( quod she ? ) I dreamt ( quod he ) that walking in a pleasaunt garden garnished with sundrye delights , my hap was to espie hanging in the ayre , a hope wherin I might well beholde the aspectes and face of the heauens , and calling to remembrance the day and hower of my natiuety . I did therby ( accordyng to my small skil in Astronomy ) trie the conclusion of mine aduentures . And what found you therin ( quod Dame Fraunces ? ) you awaked me out of my dreame ( quod he ) or ells peraduenture you should not haue knowen . I beleeue you well ( quod the lady Fraunces ) and laughing at his quicke aunswere brought him by the hande vnto the rest of his company : where he taryed not long before his gracious Mystresse badde him to farewel , and to keepe his houre there againe when he should by hir be sommoned . Hereby hee passed the rest of that daye in hope awayting the happie tyme when his Mystresse shoulde sende for him . Supper time came , and passed ouer , and not long after came the handemayde of the Lady Elynor into the great chamber desiering him to repayre vnto their Mistresse , the which he willingly acomplished : and being nowe entred into hyr chamber , he might perceyue his Mystresse in hir nightes attyre , preparing hir selfe towards bed , to whome Fardinando sayde : Why how now mystresse ? I hadde thought this night to haue seene you daunce ( at least or at last ) amongst vs ? By my troth good Seruaunt ( quoth shee ) I aduentured so soone vnto the great Chamber yeasternyght , that I finde my selfe somewhat sickelye disposed , and therefore doe strayne courtesye ( as you see ) to goe the sooner to my bedde this night : but before I sleepe ( quoth she ) I am to charge you with a matter of wayght , and taking him a parte from the rest , declared that ( as that present night ) shee woulde talke with him more at large in the gallery neere adioyning to hir chamber . Herevpon Ferdinando discréetely dissimuling his ioy , toke his leaue & returned into the great chamber , where he had not long continued before the Lord of the Castell commaunded a torch to light him vnto his lodging , wheras he prepared himselfe and went to bed , commaunding his seruaunt also to go to his rest . And when he thought aswell his seruaunt , as the rest of the houshold to be safe , he arose againe , & taking his night gowne , did vnder the same conuey his naked sword , and so walked to the gallerie , where he founde his good Mistresse walkyng in hir night gowne and attending his comming . The Moone was nowe at the full , the skies cleare , and the weather temperate , by reason whereof he might the more playnely had with the greater contentation behold his long desired ioyes : and spreading his armes abrode to embrace his louing Mistresse , hée sayde : oh my deare Lady when shall I be able with any deserte to counteruayle the least parte of this your bountifull goodnesse ? The Dame ( whether it were of feare in déede , or that the wylinesse of womanhoode had taught hir to couer hir conceites with some fine dissimulation ) stert backe from the Knight , and shriching ( but softly ) sayd vnto him . Alas seruaunt what haue I deserued , that you come agaynst mée with naked sword as against an open enimie . Ferdinando perceyuing hir intent excused himselfe , declaryng that he brought the same for their defence , and not to offende hir in any wise . The Ladie beyng therewith somewhat apeased they began with more comfortable gesture to expell the dread of the sayd late affright , and sithence to become bolder of behauiour , more familiar in spéeche , and moste kinde in accomplishing of common comfort . But why holde I so long discourse in describyng the ioyes whiche ( for lacke of like experience ) I cannot set out to the full ? Well , remedie was there none , but dame Elynor muste returne vnto hir chamber , and he muste also conuey himselfe ( as closely as might be ) into his chamber , the which was hard to do , the day being so farre sprong , and he hauing a large base court to passe ouer before he could recouer his staire foote dore . And though he were not much perceiued , yet the Lady Fraunces being no lesse desirous to sée an issue of these interprises , then he was willing to couer them in secrecy , laid watch , & euen at the entring of his chamber doore , perceiued the poynt of his naked sworde glistring vnder the skyrt of his nyght gowne : whereat she smiled & sayd to hir selfe , this geare goeth well aboute . Well Ferdenando hauing now recouered his chamber he went to bede , there let him sléepe , as his mistresse did on the other side . Although the Lady Fraunces being throughly tickled now in al the vaynes , could not enioye such quiet rest , but arising toke another gentle woman of the house with hir , and walked into the parke to take the fresh ayre of the morning . They had not long walked there , but they returned , and thought Ferdenando Ieronimij had not yet slept sufficiently , for one which had so farre trauayled in the night past , yet they went in to his chamber to rayse him , and comming to his beds side , found him fast on slep . Allas quod that other gentle woman , it were pitye to awake him : euen so it were quod dame Fraunces , but wée wil take away som what of his , wherby he may perceiue that we were here , and loking about the chamber , hys naked sword presented it selfe to the handes of dame Fraunces , who tooke it with her , and softly shutting hys chamber dore agayne , went downe the stayres and recouered hir owne lodging , in good order and vnperceyued of any body , sauing only that other gentle woman which accompanied with hir . At the last Ferdenando awaked , and apparrelling hym selfe , walked out also to take the ayre , and being throughly recomforted aswell with remembraunce of his ioyes forepassed , as well with the pleasaunt hermony which the Brides made on euery side , and the fragrant smel of the redolent flowers and blossomes whiche budded on euery braunche : hée did in these delightes compyle these verses following called a mooneshyne banquete .

DAme Cinthia her selfe ( that shines so bright , And dayneth not to leaue hir loftie place : But onely then , when Phoebus shewes his face . Which is her brother borne and lendes hir light , ) Disdaind not yet to do my Lady right : To proue that in such heauenly wightes as she , It fitteth best that right and reason be . For when she spied my Ladies golden raies , Into the cloudes , Hir head she shroudes , And shamed to shine where she hir beames dissplaies . Good reason yet , that to my simple skill , I should the name of Cynthia adore : By whose high helpe , I might beholde the more , My Ladies louely lookes at mine owne will , With deepe content , to gare , and gaze my fill : Of courtesie and not of darcke disdaine , Dame Cythia disclosde my Lady plaine . Shee did but lende hir light ( as for a lite ) With friendely grace , To shew hir face , That else would shew and shine in hir dispight . Dan Phoebus hee with many a lowring looke , Had hir behelde in yore in angrie wise : And when he coulde none other meane deuise To staine hir name , this deepe deceit he tooke , To be the baite that best might hide his hooke : Into hir eies his parching beames he cast , To skorche their skinnes , that gaZ'd on hir full fast : Whereby when many a man was sunne burnt so They thought my Queene , The sonne had beene . with skalding flames , which wrought them all that wo , And that when many a looke had lookt so long , As that their eyes were dimme and dazaled both : Some fainting heartes that were both leude and loth To looke agayne from whence that error sprong , Gan close their eye for feare of farther wrong : And some againe once drawen into the maze , Gan leudly blame the beames of beauties blaze : But I with deepe foresight did soone espie , How phoebus ment , By false intent , To slaunder so her name with crueltie . wherefore at better leasure thought I best , To trie the treason of his trecherie : And to exalt my Ladies dignitie when Phoebus fled and drewe him downe to rest . Amid the waues that walter in the west , J gan behold this louely Ladies face . whereon dame nature spent hir giftes of grace : And found therein no parching heat at all , But such bright hew , As might renew , An Aungels ioyes in raigne celestiall . The courteouse Moone that wisht to do me good , Did shine to shew my dame more perfectly , But when she sawe hir passing iollitie , The Moone for shame , did blush as red as bloud , And shrounke a side and kept hir hornes in hoode : So that now when Dame Cynthia was gone , J might enioye my Ladies lokes alone , Yet honoured still the Moone with true intent ? Who taught vs skill , To worke our will , And gaue vs place , till all the night was spent . F. I.

ANd now to returne to my tale , by that time , that hee returned out of the parke , it was dinner time , and at dynner they all met . I meane both dame Elynor , dame Fraunces & Ferdenando . I leaue to discribe that the Lady Fraunces was gorgiously attyered , and set forth with very braue apparell , and Madame Elynor onely in hir night gowne gyrt to hir , with a coyfe trymmed Alla Piedmonteze , on the whiche she ware a little cape crossed ouer the crowe with two bandes of yellowe Sarcenet or Cipresse , in the middest whereof she had placed ( of hir owne hand writing ) in paper this worde , Contented . This attyre pleased hir then to vse , and could not haue displeased Mistresse Fraunces , had she not ben more priuy to the cause , then to the thing it selfe : at least the Lorde of the Castle , of ignnoraunce , and dame Fraunces , of great temporaunce , let it passe with out offence . At dinner , bicause the on was pleased with al former reconinges , and the other partye priuie to the accompt , there passed no word of taunt or grudged , but omnia bene . After dynner dame Elinor being no lesse desirous to haue Ferdinandos compani , then dame Frances was to take him in some prety trippe , they began to question how they might best passe the day , the Lady Elinor séemed desirous to kepe her chamber , but Mistresse Fraunces ( for another purpose ) séemed desirous to ride abroade , therby to take the open ayre , they gréed to ride a mile or twayne for solace , and requested Ferdinando to accompany them , the which willingly granuted . Eche one parted from other , to prepare them selues & nowe began the sport , for when he was booted , his horses sadled , and he ready to ride , he gan misse his Rapier , wherat al astonied he began to blame his man , but blame whom he would , found it could not be . At last the Ladies going towardes the horsebacke called for him in the base Court , and demaunded if he were readie : to whome hée aunswered . Madame , I am more than readie , and yet not so ready as I would be , and immediatly taking him selfe in trip , he thought best to vtter no more of his conceipt , but in hast more than good spede mounted his horse , & comming toward the dames presented himselfe , turning , bounding , & taking vp his courser to the vttermost of his power in brauery : after suffering his horse to breath him selfe , he gan also allay his owne choller , & to the dames he sayd . Fayre Ladyes I am ready when it pleaseth you to ride where so you commaund . How ready so euer you be seruaunt , quod dame Elynor , it seemeth your horse is readier at your commaunde then at oures . If he bée at my commaund Mistresse ( quod he ) he shall be at yours Gramercye good seruaunte ( quod shée ) but my meanyng is , that I feare he be to stirring for our company . If he proue so mistres ( quod he ) I haue here a soberer palfray to serue you on . The Dames being mounted they rode forthwardes by the space of a mile or very neare , & Ferdinando ( whether it were of his horses corage or his owne choller came not so neare them as they wished ) at last the Lady Fraunces sayde vnto him , mayster Ieronomy you sayde that you had a sober horse , which if it be so , we would bée glad of your company but I beleue by your countenaunce your horse and you are agréed . Ferdinando alighting called his seruaunt , chaunged horses with , him and ouer taking the Dames , sayd to Mistres Fraunces : And why doe you think fayre Lady that my horse and I are agreed ? Because by your countenaunce ( quod she ) it séemeth your patience is stirred . In good faith , quod he , you haue gessed aright , but not with any of you . Then we care the lesse seruaunt , quod Dame Elynor . By my troth Mistresse , quod he ( looking wel about him that none might heare but they two ) it is with my seruaunt , who hath lost my sword out of my chamber . Dame Elinor litle remembring the occasion , replied it is no matter seruaunt , quod she , you shall heare of it againe , I warrant you , and presently wee ryde in Gods peace , and I trust shall haue no néede of it : yet Mistres quod he , a weapon serueth both vses , aswell to defend , as to offend . Now my by troth , quod Dame Fraunces , I haue now my dreame , for I dreamt this night that I was in a pleasaunt medow alone , where I met with a tall Gentleman , apparrelled in a night gowne of silke , all embroadered about with a garde of naked swordes , and when he came towards me I séemed to be afrayd of him , but he recomforted me saying , be not afrayd fayre Lady , for I vse this garment onely for mine owne defence : and in this sort went that warrelike God Mars , what time hée taught Dame Venus to make Vulcan a hammer of the new fashion . Notwithstanding these comfortable words , the fright of the dreame awaked me , and sithens vnto this hower I haue not slept at al. And what time of the night dreamt you this quod Fardinando ? In the grey morning about dawning of the day , but why aske you quod Dame Frances ? Ferdenando with a great sigh answered , because that dreames are to bee marked more at some hower of the night , then at some other ? why are you so cunning at the interpretation of dreames seruaunt ( quod the Ladye Elinor ? ) not very conning Mistres quod he , but gesse like a young scholler . The Dames continued in these and like pleasaunt talkes : but Ieronomij coulde not be mery , as on that estemed the preseruation of his mistres honor , no lese then the obteyning of his owne delightes , and yet to auoyd further suspicion , he repressed his passions , asmuch as hée could . The Lady Elynor ( more carelesse then consideratiue of hir owne case ) pricking forwardes sayd softly to him , I had thought you had receiued small cause seruaunt to be thus dumpish , when I would be mery . Alas déere mistresse quod he , it is altogether for your sake , that I am pensife : Dame Fraunces of courtesie with drewe hir selfe and gaue them leaue , when as Ferdinando declared vnto his Mistres , that his sworde was taken out of his chamber , and that he dreaded much by the wordes of the Lady Fraunces , that she had some vnderstanding of the mater . Dame Elynor now calling to remembrance what had passed the same night , at the first was abashed , but immediatly ( for these women be redily witted ) chered hir seruaunt , and willed him to commit vnto hir the saluing of that sore . Thus they passed the rest of the way in pleasaunt talke with dame Fraunces , and so returned towards the Castle where Ieronimy suffered the two dames to go together , and he alone vnto his chamber to bewayle hys own misgouernment . But dame Elynor ( whether it were according to olde custome , or by wilye pollycye ) founde meane that nyght , that the sworde was conueyed out of Mistres Fraunces chamber , and brought vnto hirs : and after redeliuerye of it vnto hir seruaunt , she warned hym to be more wary from that time forthwardes : afterward when he grew more bold and better aquaynted with his Mistris disposition , hee aduentured one Frydaye in the morning to go vnto hir Chamber , and therevpon wrote as followeth : which he termed a Frydayes Breakefast .

THat selfe same day , and of that day that hower , When she doth raigne , that mockt Vulcan the smith , And thought it meete to harbor in hir bower , Some gallant gest for hir to dally with , That blessed houre , that blist and happie daye , I thought it meete , with hastie steppes to go : Vnto the lodge , wherin my Lady laye , To laugh for ioye , or else to weepe for woe . And lo , my Lady of hir wonted grace , First lent hir lippes to me ( as for a kisse ) And after that hir bodye to imbrace , Wherein dame nature wrought nothing amisse . What followed next , gesse you that know the trade , For in this sort , myr Fydaies feast I made . F. I.

MAny dayes passed these two louers with great delight , their affayres being no lesse politiquely gouerned , then happilye atchiued . And surelye it should séeme in sadde earnest , that hée did not onely loue hir , but was furthermore so rauished in extasies with continuall remembraunce of his delights , that he made an Idoll of hir in his inwarde conceyte . So séemeth it by this challenge to beautie , which be wrote in hir prayse and vppon hir name .

BEautie shut vp thy shop , and trusse vp all thy trash , My Nell hath stolne thy finest stuffe , & left thee in the lash got Thy market now is marde , thy gaines are gone god wot , Thou hast no ware , that maie compare , with this that J haue As for thy painted pale , and wrinckles surfted vp : Are deare ynough , for such as lust to drinke of euery cup : Thy bodies bolstred out , with bumbact and with bagges , Thy rowles , thy ruffes , thy , caules , thy coifes , thy Ierkins & thy Jagges . Thy curling , and thy cost , thy friesling and thy fare , To court to court with al those tois , & there set forth such ware Before their hungrie eies , that gaze on euery gest , And choose the cheapest chaffaire still , to please their fancy best . But I whose stedfast eies , coulde neuer cast a glaunce , With wandring loke , amid the prese , to take my choise by chaunce Haue wonne by due desert , a peece that hath no peere , And left the rest as refuse all , to serue the market there : There let him chuse that list , there catche the best who can : A painted blazing baite may serue , to choke a gazing man . But I haue slipt thy flower , that freshest is of hewe : I haue thy corne , goe sell thy chaffe , I list to seeke no new , The windowes of mine eies , are glaZ'd with such delight , As eche new face seemes full of faultes , that blaseth in my sight : And not without iust cause , I can compare her so , Loe here my gloue I challenge him , that can , or dare say no. Let Theseus come with clubbe , or Paris bragge with brand , To proue how faire their Hellen was , that skourg'd the Grecian land : Let mighty Mars himselfe , come armed to the field : And vaunt dame Venus to defend , with helmet , speare , & shield . This hand that had good hap , my Hellen to embrace , Shal haue like lucke to stil hir foes , & daunt them with disgrace . And cause them to confesse by verdict and by othe , How farre hir louelie lookes do steine , the beauties of them both . And that my Hellen is more faire then Paris wife , And doth deserue more famous praise , then Venus for hir life . Which if I not perfourme , my life then let me leése , Or else be bound in chaines of change , to begge for beuties feése . F. I.

BY this challenge I gesse , that eyther he was than in an extasie , or else , sure I am nowe in a lunacie , for it is a prowde challenge made to Beautie hir selfe , and all hir companions : and imagining that Beautie hauing a shoppe where she vttered hir wares of all sundry sortes , his Ladie had stollen the fynest away , leauing none hehind hir , but paynting , bolstring , forcing and such like , the whiche in his rage he iudgeth good inough to serue the Courte : and therevpon grewe a great quarrell . When these verses were by the negligence of his Mistresse dispersed into sundry handes , and so at last to the reading of a Courtier . Well Ferdinando had his desire , yf his Mistresse lyked them , but as Bartello writeth , shee grewe in ielousie , that the same were not written by hir , because hir name was Elynor and not Hellen. And about this point haue béen diuers and sundry opinions among the Venetians , for this & diuers other of his most notable Poems , haue come to view of the world . And some haue attributed this praise vnto a Hellen , who deserued not so well as this dame Elynor shoulde séeme to deserue , and yet neuer a barrell of good herring betwéene them both : But that other Hellen , because she was sayeth Bartello , of so base conditions , as may deserue no maner commendation in any honest iudgement , therefore he thinketh that he would neuer bestow verse of so meane a subiect . And yet some of his acquaintaunce knowing also that he was sometimes acquainted with Hellen , haue stoade in argument , that it was written by Hellen , & not by Elynor . Well mine aucthor affirmeth that it was written by this Dame Elynor , and that vnto hir he thus alledged , that he tooke it all for one name , or at least he neuer read of any Elynor suche matter as might sound worthy like commendation , for beautie . And in déede considering all circumstaunces of histories , and comparing also the time that suche reportes do spreade of his acquaintaunce with Hellen , it cannot be written lesse then sixe or seuen yéeres before he knewe Hellen : marrye peraduenture if there were any acquaintaunce betwéene him and that Hellen afterwardes , he might adapt it to hir name , and so make it serue boath their turnes , as elder louers haue done before , and still doe , and wyll doe world without ende . Wel by whome he wrote it I know not , and to returne to the purpose , he sought more certainelye to please his Mistresse Elynor with this Sonet written in hir praise as followeth .

THE stately Dames of Rome , their Pearles did weare . About their neckes to beautifie their name : But she ( whome I doe serue ) hir pearles doth beare , Close in hir mouth , and smiling shewe , the same . No wonder then , though eu'ry word she speakes , A Iewell seeme in iudgement of the wise , Since that hir sugred tongue the passage breakes , Betweene two rockes , bedeckt with pearles of price . Hir haire of golde , hir front of Juory , ( A bloody heart within so white a breast ) Hir teeth of Pearle lippes Rubie , christall eye , Needes must J honour hir aboue the rest : Since she is fourmed of none other moulde , But Rubie , Christall , Iuory , Pearle , and Golde . Ferdinando Ieronimy .

OF this Sonet , were it not a lyttle to muche prayse ( as the Italians do most commonly offend in the superlatiue ) I could no more commend it : but I hope the party to whome it was dedicated : had rather it were much more , than any thing lesse . Wel , thus these twoo Louers passed many daies in excéeding contentation , & more than speakable pleasures , in which time Ferdinando did compile very many verses according to sundrye occasions proffred , and they were for the most parte fauced with a taste of glory , as you know that in such cases a louer being charged with inexprimable ioyes , and therewith enioyned both by duety and discrecion to kéepe the same couert , can by no meanes deuise a greater consolation , than to commit it into some cyphred wordes , and figured speaches , in verse , whereby he feeleth his heart halfe ( or more than halfe ) eased of swelling . For as sighes are some present ease to the pensiue minde , euen so we find by experience , that such secréete enteredmoning of ioyes doeth encrease delight . I would not haue you conster my wordes to this effect , that I thinke a man cannot sufficientlye reioyce in the luckie lottes of loue , vnlesse he empart the same to others : God forbid that euer I should enter into such an herisie , for I haue alwayes bene of this opinion , that as to be fortunate in loue , is one of the most inward contentations to mans mind of all earthly ioyes : euen so if hée do but once bewray the same to any liuing creature , immediatly either dread of discouering doth bruse his brest with an intollerable burden , or els he leeseth the principall vertue which gaue effect to his gladnes , not vnlyke to a Poticares pot , which being filled with swéete oyntmentes or perfumes , doth retayne in it selfe some sent of the same , and being powred out doeth returne to the former state , hard , harsh , and of small sauour : So the mind being fraught with delightes , as long as it can kepe them secretly enclosed , may continually féede vpon the pleasaunt record thereof , as the wel wylling and readie horse byteth on the bridle , but hauing once disclosed them to any other , straight waye we loose the hidden treasure of the same , and are oppressed with sundry doubtfull opinions and dreadfull conceiptes . And yet for a man to record vnto him selfe in the inward contemplation of his mind , the often remembrance of his late receiued ioyes , doth as it were ease the hearte of burden , and ad vnto the mind a fresh supplie of delight , yea , and in vearse principally ( as I conceyue ) a man may best contriue his waye of comfort in him selfe . Therfore as I haue sayde Ferdinando swimming nowe in delightes did nothing but writ such verse as might acumilat his ioyes , to the extremitie of pleasure , the which for that purpose he kept from sight of the world , as one more desirous to seme obscure & defectiue , than ouermuch to glory in his aduentures , especially for that in the end his hap was as heauie , as hitherto he had ben fortunate . And here I wyll surcease to rehearse any more of his verses vntil I haue expressed how that his ioyes being exalted to the highest degrée began to bend towards declination . For now the vnhappy Secretary whom I haue before remembred , was returned from Florence , on whom Fardinando had no soner cast his eies , but immediatly he fell into a great passion of minde , which might be compared vnto a feauer . This fruit grew of the good instructions that his Hope had planted in his mind , whereby I might take iust occasion to forwarn euery louer , how they suffer this venemous serpent ielousie to créepe into their conceipts : for surely , of al other diseases in loue , I suppose that to be vncurable , and would hold longer discourse therin , were it not that both this tale & the verses of Ferdinando him selfe hereafter to be recited , shal be sufficient to speake for me in this behalf . The louer ( as I say vpon the sodain ) was drouen into such a malladie , as no meate might nourishe his body , no delightes please his minde , no remembrance of ioyes forepassed content him , nor any hope of the lyke to come might recomfort him : hereat ( some vnto whome I haue imparted this tale ) haue taken occasion to discommend his fainting heart , yet surely the cause inwardly & déeply considered , I cannot so lightly condempne him : for an old saying is , that euerye man can giue councell better than followe it : and néedes must the conflicts of his thoughts be straunge : betwéene the remembraunce of his forepassed pleasure , and the present sight of this monster , whom before ( for lacke of like instruction ) he had not so throughlye marked and beheld . Well , such was the griefe vnto him , that he became sickly and kept his chamber . The Ladies hauing receiued the newes thereof , gan al at once lament his misfortune , & of common consent agréed to visit him : they marched thither in good equipage , I warant you , and found Ferdinando lying vpon his bed languishing , whom they all saluted generally , and sought to recomfort : but especiallye his Mistresse , hauing in hir hand a braunce of wyllow , wherewith shée defended hir from the whot aire , gan thus say vnto him : Seruaunt ( quod she ) for that I suppose your mallady to procéede of none other cause but only slouthfulnesse , I haue brought this preaty rod to beate you a little : nothing doubting , but when you feele the smart of a twig or twayne , you will like a tractable yong scholler , pluck vp your quickned spirits , & cast this drowsinesse apart . Ferdinando with a great sigh answered : Alas good Mistres ( quod he ) if any like chastisement might quicken me , how much more might the presence of all you louely Dames recomfort my dulled mind ? whome to behold , were sufficient to reuiue an eye now dazled with the dread of death : & that not onely for the heauenly aspects whiche you represent , but also much the more for your excéeding curtesie , in that you haue deigned to visit mée so vnworthie a seruaunt . But good Mistresse ( quod he ) as it were shame for me to confesse that euer my hart coulde yéelde for feare , so I assure you that my minde cannot be content to induce infirmitie by sluggishe conceyt : But in trueth Mistresse I am sicke ( quod he , ) and therewithall the trembling of his hart had sent vp suche throbbing into his throte , as that his voyce ( now depriued of breath ) commaunded the tong to be still . When Dame Elynor for compassion distilled into teares , and drew towardes the window , leauing the other Gentlewomen about his bed , who being no lesse sorye for his griefe , yet for that they were none of them so touched in their secrete thoughtes , they had bolder sprits and fréeer speach to recomfort him , amongest the rest the Lady Fraunces , ( who in deede loued him déepely , and could best coniecture the cause of his conceipts ) sayd vnto him : Good Trust ( quod shée ) if any helpe of Phisick may cure your maladie , I would not haue you hurt your selfe with these doubts whiche you séeme to retayne : If choice of Diet may helpe , beholde vs here ( your cookes ) ready to minister all things néedefull : if company may driue away your anoye , wee meane not to leaue you solitary , if griefe of mind be cause of your infirmitie , wée all here will offer our deuoyre to turne it into ioye : if mishap haue giuen you cause to feare or dreade any thing , remember Hope , which neuer fayleth to recomfort an afflicted minde . And good Trust ( quod she ) ( distreining his hand right hartely ) let this simple proofe of our poore good willes bee so excepted of you , as that it maye work therby the effect of our desires . Ferdinando ( as on in a traunce ) had marked very litle of hir curteouse talke , & yet gaue hir thankes , and so held his peace whereat the Ladyes ( being all amazed ) there became a silence in the chamber on all sides . Dame Elynor fearing thereby that she might the more easely be espyed , and hauing nowe dryed vp hir teares , retourned to hir seruaunt , recomforting him by all possible meanes of common curtesie , promising that since in hir sicknes he had not only staunched hir bleding , but also by his gentle company and sundry deuices of honest pastime , had driuen a waye the pensiuenes of hir mind , she thought hir selfe bound with like willingnes to do hir best in any thing that might restore his health , & taking him by the hand said further . Good seruaunte , if thou beare in deed any true affection to thy poore Mistres , start vpon thy féet again , and let hir enioye thine accustomed seruice to hir confort , for sure ( quod she ) I will neuer leaue to visite this chamber once in a daye , vntill I may haue thée downe with mée , Ferdinando hearyng the harty woordes of his Mistris , and perceiuyng the earnest maner of hir pronunciation , began to receyue vnspeakeable comfort in the same , and sayd : Mistris , your excéedyng courtesie were able to reuiue a man half dead , and to me it is bothe great comfort , and it doeth also glad my remembrance , with a continual smart of myne owne vnworthinesse : but as I woulde desire no longer life , than til I might be able to deserue some part of your bounty , so I wil endeuor my self to liue , were it but only vnto the ende , that I might merite some parte of your fauour with acceptable seruice , and requight some deale the courtesie of all these other fayre Ladies , who haue so farre ( aboue my deserts ) deigned to doe me good . Thus sayd , the Ladies taried not long before they were called to Euensong , when his Mistres taking his hand , kissed it saying : Farewel good seruaunt , and I praye thée suffer not the mallice of thy sickenesse to ouercome the gentlenesse of thy good hart . Fardinando rauished with ioy , suffered them all to departe , and was not able to pronounce one word . After their departure , he gan cast in his mind the exceeding curtesie vsed towardes him by them all , but aboue all other the bounty of his Mystresse : and therwithall tooke a sound & firme opinion , that it was not possible for hir to counterfeite so deepely ( as in déede I beleeue that shee then did not ) wherby he sodenly felt his hert greatly eased , and began in himselfe thus to reason . Was euer man of so wretched a heart ? I am the most bounden to loue ( quod he ) of all them that euer possessed his seruice , I enioy one the fayrest that euer was found , and I finde hir the kindest that euer was hearde of : yet in mine owne wicked heart , I coulde vilanously conceyue that of hir , which being compared with the rest of hir vertues , is not possible to harbour in so noble a mind . Herby I haue brought my self without cause into this féeblenesse : and good reason that for so high an offence , I should be punished with great infirmitie : what shall I then doe ? yelde to the same ? no , but according to my late protestation , I will recomfort this languishing minde of mine , to the ende I may liue but onely to do penaunce for this so notable a cryme so rashly committed : and thus saying , he start from his bed , and gan to walke towardes the window : but the venimous serpent which ( as before I rehearsed ) had stong him , coulde not be content that these medicines applyed by the mouth of his gentle Mistresse , should so soone restorte him to guerison . And although in dede they were such Nythrydate to him as that they had nowe expelled the rancour of the poyson yet that ougly hellishe monster had left behind hir in the most secret of his bosome , ( euen betwene the minde and the man ) one of hir familiers named suspect , whiche gan work in the weake spirites of Ferdinando efectes of no lese perill than before he had receiued , his head swelling with these troublsome toyes , and his hart swimming in the tempests of tossing fantasie : he felt his legges so féeble , that he was constrayned to lie down on his bed again , and repeating in his own remembraunce euery woorde that his mistres had spoken vnto him , he gan to dread , that she had brought the willow braunche to beate hym with , in token that he was of hir forsaken : for so louers do most commonly expound the willow garlande , and this to thinke , did cut his hart in twayne . A wonderfull chaunge : and here a little to staye you , I will discribe as I finde it in Bartello the beginning , the fall , the retourne , and the being of this hellish byrde , who in déede maye well bée counted a very lymbe of the Diuill . Many yeares since , one of the moste dreadfull dasterdes in the world , and one of them that first deuissed to weare his beard at length , lest the Barbor might doe him a good turne soner then he looked for it , and yet not so soone as he deserued , had builded for his security a pile on the hyghest and most inaccessible mount of all his Territores : the which being fortyfied with strong walles , and enuyroned with deepe ditches , had no place of entire , but one onely doore so strayght and narrow , as might by any possibility receiue the body of one liuing man : from which he asended vp a ladder , and so créeping through a meruelous strait hole , attayned to his lodging , that which was so dark & obscure , as scarcely either sunne or ayre could enter into it : thus hee deuised to lodge in safetie , and for the more suertye gane truste none other letting downe this ladder but only his wife : and at the foote therof kept alwaies by daye light , a fierce mastife close enkeneled which neuer sawe nor hearde the face or voice of any other creature but onelye of them twoo : him by night he trusted with the scout of this prety passage , hauing neuerthelesse betwéen him & this dogge , a double doore with treble lockes , quadrible barres , and before all a port coulez of Iron : neither yet could he bée so hardye as to sléepe , vntyll he had caused a garde of seruauntes ( whome he kept abroade for that purpose ) to search all the corners adioyning to all his fortresse , and that betwéene fearefull sweate and chyuering cold , with one eye opened & the other closed , he stole sometimes a broken sléepe , deuided with many terrible dreames . In this sort the wretch lyued all to long , vntyll at last his Wife being not able any longer to supporte this hellishe life , grewe so hardye , as with his owne knife to dispatche his carkas out of this earthlye purgatorye : the which being done , his soule ( and good reason ) was quickly conueyed by Carone vnto hell : there Radamanthus Iudge of that benche , commaunded him quicklye to be thrust into a boyling poole : and being therein plonged very often , hée neuer shryked or cryed , I skalde , as his other companions there cryed , but séemed so lightlye to estéeme it , that the Iudge thought méete to condempne him vnto the most terrible place , where are such tormentes , as neyther penne can wryte , tongue expresse , or thought conceyue : but the myser ( euen there ) seemed to smyle and to make small accompt of his punishment . Radamanthus hereof enformed , sent for him , and demaunded the cause why he made so light of his duraunce ? he aunswered that whyles he lyued on earth , he was so continually afflicted and oppressed with suspicion , as that now ( only to thinke that he was out of those meditations ) was sufficient armour to defend him from all other tormentes . Radamanthus astonied hereat , gan call togeather the Senators of that kingdome , and propounded this question , howe & by what punnishment they might deuise to touche him according to his deserts ? & herevpon fell great disputation : at last being considered , that he had already him plonged in the most vnspeakable torments , & therat litle or nothing had changed countenan e , there withal that no soule was sent vnto them to be relieued of his smart , but rather to be punished for his former delights : it was concluded by the general counsel , that he should be eftsones sent into the world & restored to the same body wherein he first had his resiance , so to remain for perpetuity , and neuer to depart nor to perish . Thus this body and soule being once againe vnited , and nowe eftsones with the same pestilence infected , he became of a suspicious man , Suspicion it selfe : and now the wretch remembring the treason of his wife , who had so willingly dispatched him once before , gan vtterly abhorre hir , and fled hir company , searching in all countries some place of better assurance , and when he had in vaine trode ouer the most part of the earth , he embarked himself to find some vnknowen Ilande , wherein he might frame some newe habitation : and finding none so commodious as hée desired , he fortuned ( ●●yling aloane by the shoare ) to espy arock , more than sixe hundreth Cubits high , which hong so suspiciously ouer the seas , as though it would threate● to fall at euerye litle blast : this dyd Suspition Imagin● to be a fit foundation whereon he might build his secon● Bower : hée forsooke his boate , and trauailed by lande to espie what entrye or accesse might bée made vnto the same , and founde from lande no maner of entrie or accesse , vnlesse it were that some curteouse Byrd of the ayre would be Ambassadour , or conuey some Engins , as whilom the Eagle did carrie Ganymedes into heauen . He then returned to Seas , and approching neere to this rocke , founde a small streame of fresh water issuing out of the same into the Seas : the whiche , although it were so lytle and so straight , as might vnethes receyue a boat of bygnesse to carry one liuing creature at once , yet in his conceypt hee thought it more large and spatious than that broad waye called of our forefathers Via appia , or than that other named Elaminia , he abandoned his barke , and putting of his clothes aduentured ( for he was now asured not to drown ) to wade and swim against the streame of this vnknown brooke , the which ( a wondrous thing to tell , and skarcelye to be beléeued ) came downe from the very top and height of this rock : and by the waye he found six strayghts & dangerous places , wher the water séemed to staye his course , passing vnder six strayght and lowe bridges , and harde by euery of those places , a pyle raysed vp in manner of a Bulworke , the which were hollow , in such sorte as lodginges and other places necessary might in them commodiously be deuised , by suche one as coulde endure the hellishnes of the place . Passing by these hée attayned wyth much payne vnto the toppe of the Rocke , the which hée found hollowed as the rest , and farre more fite for hys security , than otherwise apt for any commodity . Ther gan Suspition , determine to nestle hymselfe , and hauing now placed sixe chosen porters , to wit , ( Dread , Mistrust , Wrath , Desperation , Frensie , and Fury : ) at these sixe straung Bulworkes , he lodged himselfe in that vii . al alone , for he trusted no company , but euer mistrusting that his wife should eftsonnes finde him out therein , hée shricketh comtynually lyke to a shrich owle to keepe the watch wakyng , neuer content to sleep by day nor by night . But to be sure that he should not ouer sleepe him selfe , gane stuffe hys couch with Porpentines quilles , to the ende that when heauy sleep ouercame him , and he thereby should be constrayned to charge his pallad with more heauye burden , those plumes might then pricke through and so awake him . His garments were steele vpon yron , and that yron vpon Iron , and Iron agayne , and the more he was armed , the lesse he trusted to be out of daunger . He chopped and changed continually now this , now that , now keyes , now lockes , ditches newe skowred , and walles newlye fortified , and thus alwaies vncontented liueth this wretched helhound Suspition , in this hellish dungion of habitation : from whence he neuer remoueth his foote , but onely in the dead & silent nightes , when he maye be assured that all creatures ( but him selfe ) are whelmed in sound sléepe . And then with stealing steps he stalketh about the earth , enfecting , tormenting , & vexing all kindes of people with some part of his afflictions : but especiallye such as eyther doe sit in chayre of greatest dignity and estimation , or els such as haue atchiued some déere and rare emprise . Those aboue al others he continually gauleth with fresh wounds of dread , least they might lose and forgo the roomes whervnto with such long trauaile and good happes they had attained , and by this meanes percase he had crept into the bosom of Ferdinando , who ( as is before declared ) did earst swimme in the déepest seas of earthly delightes . Nowe then I must thinke it high time to retorne vnto him , who ( being now through féeblenesse eftsones cast downe vpon his bed ) gan cast in his inwarde meditations all thinges passed , and as one throughly puffed vp and filled with one péeuishe conceipte , coulde thinke vppon nothing else , and yet accusing his own guiltie conscience to be infected with ielosie , dyd compile this as followeth .

WHat state to man , so sweete and pleasaunt weare , As to be tyed , in linkes of worthy loue ? What life so blist and happie might appeare , As for to serue Cupid that God aboue ? If that our mindes were not sometimes infect , With dread , with feare , with care , with cold suspect : With deepe dispaire , with furious frenesie , Handmaides to her , whome we call ielosie . For eu'ry other sop of sower chaunce , Which louers tast amid their sweete delight : Encreaseth ioye , and doth their loue aduaunce , In pleasures place , to haue more perfect plight . The thirstie mouth thinkes water hath good taste , The hungrie iawes , are pleas'd , with eche repaste : Who hath not prou'd what dearth by warres doth growe , Cannot of peace the pleasaunt plenties knowe . And though with eye , we see not eu'ry ioye , Yet maie the minde , full well support the same , And absent life long led in great annoye . ( When presence comes ) doth turne from griefe to game , To serue without reward is thought great paine , But if dispaire do not therewith remaine , It may be borne for right rewardes at last , Followe true seruice , though they come not fast . Disdaines , repulses , finallie eche ill , Eche smart , eche paine , of loue eche bitter tast , To thinke on them gan frame the louers will , To like eche ioye , the more that comes at last : But this infernall plague if once it tutch , Or venome once the louers mind with grutch , All festes and ioyes that afterwardes befall , The louer comptes them light or nought at all . This is that sore , this is that poisoned wound , The which to heale , nor salue , nor ointmentes serue , Nor charme of wordes , nor Image can be founde , Nor obseruaunce of starres can it preserue , Nor all the art of Magicke can preuaile , Which Zoroactes found for our auaile , Oh cruell plague , aboue all sorrowes smart , With desperate death thou sleast the louers heart . And me euen now , thy gall hath so enfect , As all the ioyes which euer louer found , And all good haps , that euer Troylus sect , Atchieued yet aboue the luckles ground : Can neuer sweeten once my mouth with mell , Nor bring my thoughtes , againe in rest to dwell . Of thy mad moodes , and of naught else J thinke , Jn such like seas , faire Bradamant did sincke Ferdinando . Ieronimy .

THus Ferdinando continued on his bedde , vntyll hys bountifull Mistresse with the companye of the other courteous dames retorned after supper to his chamber . At their first entrie : Why how nowe seruaunt ( quod dame Elinor ) wee hoped to haue founde you one foote ? Mistresse quod he , I haue assayed my féete since your departure , but I finde them yet vnable too suport my heauy body , and therefore am constrayned as you sée , to acquaint my selfe with these pillowes . Seruaunt sayde she I am right sory therof , but since it is of necessitie to beare sicknesse , I will employ my endeuoyre to allay some parte of your paynes , and to refreshe your weary limbes with some comfortable matter : and therewithall calling hir hande mayde , deliuered vnto hir a bounch of pretie littell keyes , and whispering in hir eare , dispatched hir towards hir chamber : The mayde taryed not long , but returned with a little Casket , the which hir mistresse toke , opened and drewe out of the same much fine linnen , amongst the which she toke a pillowebere very fine and sweete , which although it were of it selfe as swéete as might be ( being of long time kept in that odoriferous chest ) yet did she with damaske water and that of the best that might be ( I warrant you ) al to sprinkle it with hir owne handes , which in my conceipt might much amende the matter . Then calling for a fresh pillowe , sent hir mayde to ayre the same and at hir returne put on this , thus perfumed pillowebéere . In meane time also shée had with hir owne hands attyred hir seruaunts head in a fayre wrought kerchife taken out of the same Casket : then layde him downe vppon this freshe and pleasaunt place , and pretelye as it were in sporte , bedewed his temples with swéete water which she had readye in a casting bottle of Golde , kissing his chéeke and saying : Good seruaunt be whoale , for I might not long indure thus to attend thée , and yet the loue that I beare towardes thée , cannot be content to sée thée languishe . Mistresse sayde Ferdinando ( and that with a trembling voice ) assure your selfe , that if there remain in me any sparke of life or possibillity of recouery , then may this excellent bounty of yours be sufficient to reuiue me without any further trauaile or paine vnto your person : for whome I am highlye to blame , in that I do not spare to put you vnto this trouble , & better it were that suche a wretch as I had died vnknown , than that by your excéeding curtesie , you should fall into any malladye , eyther by resorting vnto me , or by these your paines taken about me . Seruaunt ( quod shee ) all pleasures séeme painefull to to them that take no delight therin , and lykewise all toile séemeth pleasaunt to such as set their felicitie in the same : but for me bee you sure , I doe it with so good a wyll that I can take no hurt thereby , vnlesse I shall perceyue that it be reiected or neglected , as vnprofitable or vncomfortable vnto you . To me Mistresse quod Fardinando , it is suche pleasure , as neyther my féeble tongue can expresse , nor my troubled mind conceyue . Why ? are you troubled in mind , them seruant quod dame Elynor ? Ferdinando now blushing answered , but euen as al sick men be Mistresse . Herewith they staied their talke a while , and the first that brake silence was the Ladye Fraunces : who sayde , and to driue away the troubles of your mind good Trust , I would be glad if we coulde deuise some pastime amongst vs to kéepe you company : for I remember that with such deuises you did greatly recomforte this fayre Lady when she languished in like sort . She languished in deede gentle Hope quod hée , but God forbide that she had languished in like sort . Euery body thinketh their own greif greatest qd dame Elynor , but in deede whether my greife were the more or the lesse , I am right sorye that yours is such as it is : And to assay whither our passions proceded of lyke cause or not , I would we could ( according to this Ladyes saying ) deuise some like pastimes to trie if your malladie would be cured with like medicines . A gentle woman of the company whom I haue not hetherto named , gan thus propound . We haue accustomed ( quod she ) heretofore in most of our games to chuse a King or Quene , and he or she during their gouernment , haue charged euery of vs , eyther with commaundementes or questions , as best séemed to their maiestie . Wherin ( to speake mine opinion ) we haue giuen ouer larg a skope , neither semeth it reasonable that on should haue the power to discouer the thoughts , or at least to bridle the affects of al the rest . And though in déed in questioning ( which doth of the twaine more nerely touch the mind ) euery on is at frée liberty to answere what they list : yet oft haue I hearde a question demaunded in such sorte , and vpon such sodayne , that it hath bene hardly answered without mouing matter of contencion . And in commaundes also , some times it happeneth one to bée commaunded vnto such seruice , as eyther they are vnfit to accomplish ( and then the parties weaknes is therby detected ) or els to doe something that they would not , wherof ensueth more grutch than game . Wherefore in mine opinion , we shall do well to chuse by lot amongst vs a gouernour , who ( for that it shal be sufficient preheminence to vse the chayre of maiestie , ) shal be bound to giue sentence vppon al suche arguments and questions as we shall orderly propound vnto them : and from him or her ( as from an oracle ( wée will receiue aunswere , and decyding of our lytigious causes . This dame had stuffe in her , an old courtier , & a wylie wenche , named Pergo . Wel this proportion of Pergo pleased them well , and by lot it hapned that Ferdinando must be moderator of these matters , and colector of these causes . The which being so constituted , the Lady Elynor sayd vnto this dame Pergo . You haue deuised this pastime ( quod she ) & because we thinke you to be most expert in the handling therof , do you propound the first question , & we shal be both the more ready and able to follow your example the Lady Pergo refused not , but began on this wise . Noble gouernor ( quod she ) amongst the aduentures that haue befallen mée , I remember especially this one , that in youth it was my chaunce to bée beloued of a verye courtlike yong Gentleman , who abode neare the place wherin my parents had their resiaunce . This gentleman ( whether it were for beauty , or for any other respect that he sawe in me , I knowe not ) but he was enamored of me , & that with an excéeding vehement passion , & of such force were his effectes , that notwithstanding many repulses which he had receiued at my handes , he seemed daylye to grow in the renewing of his desires . I on the other side , although I could by no meanes mislike of him by any good reason ( considering that he was of byrth no waye inferiour vnto mée , of possessions not to bée disdamed , of parson right comelye , of behauiour Courtly , of manners modest , of mynde lyberall , and of vertuous disposition ) yet suche was the gaitye of my minde , as that I coulde not bée content to lende him ouer large thonges of my loue : but alwayes daungerouslye behaued my selfe towardes him , and in suche sorte , as hee coulde neyther take comfort of myne aunsweres , nor yet once finde him selfe requited with one good looke for all his trauaile . This notwithstanding , the worthy Knight continewed his sute with no lesse vehement affection than earst hée had begonne it , euen by the space of seuen yeares , At the last , whether discomfited by my dealynges , or tryed by long trauayle , or that he hade parcase light vpon the lake that is in the forrest of Ardena , and so in haste and all thristie , had dronke some droppes of disdayne , whereby his hot flames were quenched , or that he had vndertaken to serue no longer , but his iust tearme of apprenticehode , or that the téeth of tyme had gnawen and tyred his dulled spirites in such sort , as that all bée nummed hee was constrayned to vse some other artificyal balme for the quickning of his sences , or by what cause moued I knowe not he did not onely leaue his long continued sute , but ( as I haue since perceiued ) grew to hate me more deadly than before I had disdained him . At the first beginnyng of his retyre I perceiued not his hatred , but imagened that being ouer wearied , he had withdrawen himself for a time . And considering his worthines , ther withall his constancie of long time proued , I thoughe that I could not in the whole world find out a fitter match to bestowe my selfe , than one so worthy a person . Wherfore I doe by al possible meanes procure that he might eftsones vse his accustomed repraye vnto my parentes : And further , in al places where I hapened to meete him , I vsed al the curtesies towardes him that might be contayned wythin the bondes of modestie . But al was in vaine , for he was now become more daungerous to be wone , than the haggard Faulcon . Our lottes being thus vnluckely chaunged , I grewe to burne in desire , and the more daungerous that he shewed him selfe vnto me , the more earnest I was by all meanes to procure his consent of loue . At the last I might perceiue that not only he disdayned me , but ( as me thought ( boyled in hatred against me . And the time that I thus continued tormented with these thoughts , was also iust the space of seuen yeares . Finally when I perceiued no remedye for my perplexityes , I assayed by absence to were away this malady , and therefore vtterly refused to come in his presence , yea or almost in any other company . Wherby I haue consumed in lost time the flower of my youth , & am become as you sée ( what with yeares , and what with the tormenting passions of loue ) pale , wane , and full of wrinkles . Neuerthelesse , I haue therby gayned thus much , that at last I haue wond my self cléere out of Cupids chaynes , and remayne carelesse at libertie . Now marke to what end I tell you this : first vii . yeares passed in the which I could neuer be content to yeld vnto his iust desires : next other vii . yeares I spent in séeking to recouer his lost loue : and sithens both those vii . yeares , there are euen now on saint Valentines day last , other vii . yeares passed , in the which ( neither I haue desired to sée him ) nor he hath coueted to here of me . My parents now perceyuing how the crowes foot is crept vnder mine eye , and remembring the long sute that this genteleman had in youth spent on me , considering therewith all that grene youth is well mellowed in vs both , haue of late sought to perswade a marriage betwene vs , the which the Knighte hath not refused to here of , and I haue not disdayned to thinke on . By their mediation we haue bene eftsoones brought to Parlee , wherein ouer and be sides the ripping vp of many olde griefes , this hath bene cheifly rehearsed & obiected betwene vs , what wrong and iniury eche of vs hath done to other . And here aboutes wée haue fallen to sharpe contencion . He alleadged , that much greater is the wrong which I haue done vnto him , than that repulse which hée hath fithenes vsed to me : and I haue affirmed the contrary . The matter yet hangeth in varyence . Now , of you worthy Gouernour I would be most glad to heare this question decided , remembring that there was no difference in the times betwene vs . And surely , vnles your iudgment helpe me , I am afrayde my marryage will hée marred , and I may go lead Apes in hell . Ferdenando aunswered , good Pergo , I am sory to heare so lamentable a discourse of your luckles loue , and much the soryer , in that I muste néedes giue sentence agaynst you . For surely great was the wrong that eyther of you haue done to other , and greater was the néedelesse greife which causelesse eche of you hath conceyued in this long time , but greatest in my iudgment hath bene both the wrong and the greife of the Knight . In that notwithstanding his desertes ( which your selfe confesse ) he neuer enioyed any guerdone of loue at your handes . And you ( as you alledge ) did enioy his loue of long time to gether . So that by the reckoning , it wil fal out ( although being builded in your owne conceipt , you sée it not ) that of the one & twenty yeares you enioyed his loue vii . at the least , but that euer he enioyed yours wee cannot perceiue . And much greater is the wrong that rewardeth euill for good , than that which requireth tip for tap . Further , it semeth that where as you went about in time to trie him , you did altogither loose time which can neuer be recouered . And not only lost your owne time , whereof you would seeme nowe to lament , but also compelled him to lease his time , which he might ( be it spoken with out offence to you ) haue bestowed in some other worthy place , and therefore , as that greife is much greater which hath no kind of confort to allay it , so much more is that wrong which altogether without cause is offered . And I ( sayd Pergo ) must needes think , that much easier is it for them to endure grief which neuer tasted of ioye , and much lesse is that wrong which is so willingly proffered to be by recompence restored . For if this Knight wil confesse that he neuer had cause to reioyce in all the time of his seruice , then with better contentacion might he abyde greife than I , who hauing tasted of the delight which I did secretly conceiue of his desertes , do think ech grief a present death by the remembrance of those for passed thoughts : & lesse wrong séemeth it to be destitut of the thing which was neuer obtained , then to be depriued of a Iewel wherof we haue been already possessed , so that vnder your correction I might conclude , that greater hath béene my griefe and iniury susteined , than that of the Knight . To whome Ieronimy replied , as touching delight , it maye not be denied but that euery louer doth take delight in the inward contemplation of his mind , to think of the worthines of his beloued : & therefore you maie not alledge that the Knight had neuer cause to reioyce , vnlesse you will altogeather condemne your selfe of worthines . Mary if you will say that he tasted not the delightes that louers seeke , then marke , who was the cause but your selfe ? And if you would accuse him of like ingratitude , for that he disdained you in the later vij . yéeres ( when as he might by accepting your loue , haue recompenced him selfe of all former wronges ) you must remember therewithall , that the crueltie by you shewed towards him was such , that he could by no means perceiue that your change procéeded of good will , but rather eftsons to hold him enchained in vnknown linkes of subtile dealings , & therefore not without cause he doubted you : & yet without cause you reiected him . He had often sought occasion , but by your refusals he could neuer find him , you hauing occasion fast by the foretop , did dally with him so long , tyl at the last he sliped his head from you , & then catching at the bald noddle , you found your selfe the cause , & yet you would accuse another . To conclude , greater is the griefe that is susteined without desert , & much more is the wrong that is offered without cause . Thus Ferdinando Ieronimy decided the question propounded by Pergo , and expected that some other Dame should propound another ? but his Mistresse ( hauing hir hand on another halfpeny ) gan thus say vnto him . Seruant this pastime is good , and such as I must nedes like of , to driue away your pensiue thoughtes : but sléeping time approcheth , & I feare we disquiete you : wherefore the rest of this time we will ( if so like you ) bestowe in trimming vp your bed , and to morrow wée shal meete here and renewe this newe begon game with Madame Pargo . Mistresse ( quod hée ) I must obeye your wil , and most humbly thanke you of your great goodnesse , and all these Ladies for their curtesie . Euen so requiring you that you wyll no further trouble your selues about mée , but let my Seruaunt aloane with conducting mee to bed . Yes seruaunt ( quod she ) I wil sée if you ●an sléepe any better in my shéetes : and therewith commaunded hir handmayde to fetche a payre of cleane shéetes , the which being brought ( maruaylous fine and swéete ) the Ladies Fraunces and Elinor dyd curteously vnfold them , and layd them on the bed , which done , they also entreated him to vncloath him and go to bed , being layd , his Mistresse dressed and couched the cloathes about him , sithens moistened his temples with Rosewater , gaue him handkerchewes and other freshe linnen about him , in doing wherof , she whispered in his eare , saying : Seruaunt , this night I will bée with thée , and after with the rest of the Dames gaue him good night and departed , leauing him in a traunce betwéen hope and dispayre , trust and mistrust . Thus he laye rauished , commaunding his seruaunt to goe to bed , and fayning that him selfe would assaye if he could sléepe . About ten or eleuen of the clocke came his mistresse in hir night gowne : who knowing all priuye wayes in that house verie perfectlye , had conueied her selfe into his chamber , vnséene and vnperceiued : and being nowe come vnto his beds side knéeled downe , and laying hir arme ouer him sayde these or lyke wordes : My good Seruaunt , if thou knewest what perplexities I suffer in beholding of thine infirmities , it might then suffice , eyther vtterlye to driue away the mallady , or much more to augment thy griefes : for I know thou ●ouest me : and I thinke also that thou hast had sufficient proofe of myne vnfayned good wyll : in remembrance whereof , I fall into sundry passions : First , I compt the happy lotes of our first acquaintance , and therin I call to minde the equalitie of our affections , for I thinke that there were neuer two louers conioyned with freer concent on both partyes : and ( if my ouer basty deliuery of yeelding words be not wrested hereafter to my condempnation ) I can then assure my self to escape for euer without desert of any reprofe . Here withall I cannot forget the sundry aduentures hapned since wee became one hart deuided in two bodyes , all which haue ben both happily atchiued , and delectable enioyed . What resteth then to consider but this thy present stat ? The first corosiue that I haue felt , and the last cordiall that I looke forthe end of my ioyes , and the beginning of my torments . And here hir salt teares gan bath the dying lippes of hir seruaunt : who ( hearing these wordes , and well considering hir demeanor ) began now to accuse him selfe of such and so haynous treason , as that his gilty hart was constrayned to yeelde vnto a iust scourge for the same . He swooned vnder hir arme : the which when she perceiued , it were harde to tel what feares did most affright hir .

And It were hard nowe to rehearse how he was reuyued , since there were none presente but hee dying , ( who could not declare ) and she liuing , who would not disclose so much as I meane to bewraye . For mine aucthor dreameth that Ferdenando returning to life , the first thing which he felt , was that his good mistres lay pressing his brest with the whole weight of hir bodye , & byting his lips with hir friendly téeth . And peraduenture she refrayned ( either of curtesie towards him , or for womanish feare , to hurt her tender hande ) to strike him on the chéekes in such sort , as they doe that striue to call againe a dying creature : and therefore thought this the aptest meane to reduce him vnto remembrance . Ferdinando now awaked , could no lesse doe , than of his curteous nature receiue his Mistresse into his bed : Who ( as one that knewe that waye better , than how to help his swooning , ) gan gently strip of hir clothes , and louingly embracing him , gan demaund of him in this sorte . Alas good Seruaunt ( quod shée ) what kinde of maladie is this that so extréemly doth torment thée ? Ieronimij with fainting speach answered : Mistresse as for my maladie , it hath béene easelye cured by your bountifull medicines applied . But I must confesse , that in receiuing that guerison at your handes , I haue bene constrained to fall into an Extasie , through the gauling remembraunce of mine owne vnworthinesse ? Neuerthelesse good Mistres , since I perceiue such fidelitye remayning betwéene vs , as that f●we woordes wyll perswade suche trust as louers ought to imbrace , let these fewe wordes suffice to craue your pardon : and do eftsones powre vppon me ( your vnworthy seruaunt ) the aboundaunt waues of your accustomed clemencie , for I must confesse , that I haue so highlye offended you , as ( but your goodnesse surpasse the mallice of my conceiptes ) I must remayne ( and that right woorthely ) to the seuere punishment of my desertes : and so should you but loose him who hath cast away him self , and neither can accuse you , nor darre to excuse him selfe of the crime . Dame Elinor ( who had rather haue founde hir seruaunt perfectly reuiued , than thus with straunge conceyptes encombred : and musing much at his darke spech , became importunat to know the sertaynty of his thoughts . And Ferdenando as on not maister of him selfe , gan at the last playnly confesse how he had mistrusted the chaung of hir vowed affections : Yea and ( that more was ) he playnely expressed with whom , of whom , by whom , and too whom she bent hir better liking .

Nowe , here I would demaunde of such as are experte : Is there any greater impedymente to the fruition of a Louers delights , than to be mistrusted ? or rather , is it not the ready way to race all loue and former good will out of remembrance , to tell a guilty mind that you do mistrust it ? It should seeme yes , by Dame Elynor , who began now to take the matter whotlye : and of such vehemencie were hir fancies , that she nowe fell into flat defiance with Ferdinando , who although he sought by many faire wordes to temper hir chollorike passions , and by yelding him selfe to get the conquest of an other , yet could he by no meanes determine the quarrell . The soft pillowes being present at al these whot speches , put forth them selues as mediators for a truce betwene these enemies , and desired that ( if they would néedes fight ) it might be in their presence but one only blowe , & so from thence forth to become friendes againe for euer . But the Dame denied flatlye , alledging that shée found no cause at all to vse such curtesie vnto such a recreant : adding further many words of great reproche : the which dyd so enrage Ferdinando , as that hauing forgotten all former curtesies , he assayleth his enemies by force . At last she rose sodainlye and determined to saue hir selfe by flight , leauing him in bedde , with many despitefull wordes , and swearing that he shoulde neuer ( eftsones ) take her at the lyke aduauntage : the whiche oathe she kepte better than hir fourmer professed good wyll : and hauing nowe recouered her Chamber ( because shee founde her hurt to be nothing daungerous ) I doubte not , but shée slept quietlye the rest of the night . As Ferdinando also ( perswading himselfe that he shoulde with conuenient leasure recouer her from this haggard conceipt ) tooke some better rest towardes the morning , than hee had done in many nightes forepast . So let them both sléepe whiles I turne my penne vnto the before named Secretarie , who being ( as I saye ) come latelye from Florence , had made many proffers to renewe his accustomed consultations : but the sorrowe whiche his Mistresse had conceyued in Ieronimy his sicknesse , togeather with hir continuall repayre to him during the same , had bene such lettes vnto his attempts , as it was long time before he could obtayne audience .

At the last these newe accidentes fell so fauourably for the furtherance of his cause , that he came to his Mistresse presence and there pleaded for himselfe . Nowe , if I should at large write his alligations , to gither with hir subtile aunsweres , I shoulde but comber your eares with vnpleasaunt rehearsall of feminine frayltye .

To be short , the late disdayneful moode which she had conceiued against Ferdinando togither with a scrupule which lay in hir conscience , touching the xj . article of hir beléefe . moued hir presently with better will to consult with this Secretary , aswel vpon the spéedy reuenge of hir late receiued wrongs as also vpon the reformation of hir religion . And in verye déede , it fel out that the Secretary ( hauing bene of long time absent , & there his quiles and pens not worne so néere as they were wont to be , ) did now pricke faire large notes , that his mistres liked better to sing fa-burden vnder him , than to descant any longer vpon Ferdinandoes playne song , and thus they continued in good accord , vntill it fortuned that Dame Fraunces came into her chamber vpon such sodaine as she had like to haue marred all the musicke , well they conueyed their clifes as closely as they could , but yet not altogither without some suspicion giuen to the sayd dame Fraunces , who although she could haue bene content to take any paine in Ieronimies behalfe , yet otherwise she could neuer haue bestowed the watching about so worthelesse a pryse . After womanly salutations they fell into sundrye discourses , the Secretary stil abiding in the chamber with them . At last two or thrée other gentlewomen of the Castle came into Madam Elinores chamber , who after their Bon iour did all ( vna voce ) séeme to lament the sikenes of Ferdinando and called vppon the Dames Elynor and Fraunces , to goe visite him againe .

The Lady Fraunces curteously consented , but Madame Elynor first alledged that she her selfe was also sickly , the which she attributed to hir late paynes taken about him and sayd , that onely for that cause she was constrayned to kepe hir bed longer than hir accustomed hower . The Dames ( but specially the Lady Fraunces ) gan streight wayes coniecture some great cause of sodaine chaunge , and so leauing dame Elinor , walked altogether into the parke to take the ayre in the morning : And as they thus walked it chaunced that Dame Pergo heard a Cuckoe chaunt , who ( because the pride of the spring was now past ) cried Cuck cuck Cuckoe in hir stamering voyce . A ha ( quod Pergo ) this foule byrd begines to flye the countrye , and yet before hir departure , sée how spitfully she can deuyse to salute vs . Not so ( quod Dame Fraunces ) but some other whom she hath espyed , wherewith Dame Pergo looking round about hir , and espying none other companie sayde . Why here is no body but we few women , qd she . Thanks be to God the house is not farre from vs ( quod Dame Fraunces . ) Here at the wylie Pergo partly perceyuing Dame Fraunces meaning , replyed on this sort : I vnderstand you not ( quod she ) but to leap out of this matter , shall wée goe visit Maister Ieronimy and see how he doth this morning . Why quod dame Fraunces , do you suppose that the Cuckoe called vnto him ? Nay mary quod Pergo , for ( as fare as I knowe ) he is not maried . As who should say ( quod Dame Fraunces , ) that the Cuckoe enuieth none but maryed folkes . I take it so , sayd Pergo , the Lady Frances answered . Yes sure I haue noated as euill lucke in loue ( after the Cuckoes call ) to haue hapned vnto diuers vnmaried folkes , as euer I did vnto the maryed , but I can be well content that we go vnto him , for I promised on the behalfe of vs al , that we would vse our best deuoyre to recomfort him vntill he had recouered helth : and I do much meruayle that the Lady Elinor is now become so vnwilling to take any trauayle in his behalfe , especially remembring that but yesternight she was so diligent to bring him to bed . But I perceiue that all earthly thinges are subiect vnto change . Euen so they be quod Pergo , for you maye behold the trées which but euen this other daye were clad in gladsome gréene , and nowe their leaues begin to fade and change collour . Thus they passed talkeing and walking vntill they returned vnto the Castle , whereas they went strayght vnto Ferdinandoes chamber , and found him in bed . Why how now Trust ( quod Dame Fraunces , ) will it be no better ? Yes shortly I hope quod he . The Ladyes all saluted him : and he gaue them the gra-mercy : at the last Pergo popped this question vnto him : And howe haue you slept in your Mistres shetes Mayster Ieronemy quod she ? reasonably well quod he , but I pray you where is my mistresse this morning ? Mary sayd Pergo , we left hir in bed scarce well at ease . I am the more sorye quod he . Why Trust ( sayd Mistresse Fraunces be of good comfort , & assure your selfe that here are others who would be as glad of your wel doing , as your mistres in any respect . I ought not to doubt there of ( quod Ferdinando ) hauing the profe that I haue had of your great courtesies , but I thought it my dutye to aske for my mistresse being absent . Thus they passed some time with him vntill they were called awaye vnto prayers , and that being finished they went to dinner , where they met Dame Elynor attired in an night kerchiefe after the soolenest ( the solempnest fashion I should haue said , ) who loked very drowsely vpon all folkes , vnlesse it were hir secretary , vnto whom she deigned somtime to lend a frendly glaunce . The Lord of the Castle demaunded of hir how master Ieronemy did this morning . She answered that she knew not for she had not sene him that day . You may do wel then daughter quod the Lord ) to go now vnto him , and to assay if he will eate any thing , and if here be no meates that like him , I praye you commaunde ( for him ) anye thing that is in my house , You must pardon me sir ( quod she , ) I am sickely disposed , and would be loth to take the ayre , why then go you mistres Fraunces ( quod he ) and take some body with you : and I charge you sée that he lacke nothing . Mistres Fraunces was glad of the ambassege , and arysing from the table with one other gentleman , tooke with hir a dish of chikins boiled in white broth , saying to hir father : I think this meat méetest for mayster Ieronimy . Of any that is here . It is so ( quod he ) daughter , and if he like not that , cause some what els to be dressed for him according to his apetite . Thus she departed and came to Ferdinando , who being plonged in sundry woes and thrilled with restlesse thoughtes , was nowe beginning to rise . But seing the Dames , couched down agayne , and sayd vnto them . Alas fayre Ladyes you put your selues to more paynes than eyther I do desire , or can deserue . Good Trust quod Dame Fraunces , our paynes are no greater than duty requireth , nor yet so great as we could vouchsafee in your behalfe . And presently my father hath sent vs vnto you ( quod she ) with this pittaunce , and if your apetite desire any on thing more than other , we are to desire likewise that you will not refrayne to call for it . Oh my good Hope ( quod he ) I perceiue that I shall not dye as long as you maye make me liue . And being nowe some deale recomforted with the remembraunce of his mistres words which she hadde vsed ouer night at hir first comming , and also thinkinge that although shee parted in choller , it was but iustlye prouoked by him selfe , and that at leasure hee shoulde finde some salue for that sore also ) hée determined to take the comforte of his assured Hope , and so to expell all venomnes of mistrust before receiued . Wherfor raising him selfe in his bed , hee cast a night gowne about his shoulders saying : It shall neuer be sayd that my fainting hart can reiect the comfortable Cordialles of so freendly phisitions . Nowe by me troth well sayed gentle Trust quod Dame Fraunces , and in so doing , assure your selfe gueryson with spéed . This thus sayed , the curteous Dame become his keruer , & he wyth a bold spirite gan tast of hir cokerey . But the late conflicts of his conceipts had so disaquainted his stomack from repastes , that he could not wel a way with meate : and yet neuerthelesse by lyttle & little receyued some nouryture . When his Hope had crammed him as longe as she coulde make him séede , they delyuered the rest to the other gentlewoman who hauing not dyned , fell to hir prouender . In which meane while the Lady Fraunces had much comfortable spéech with signor Ieronemy and declared that shée perceiued very well the maladie . but my Trust ( quod she ) be all whole , and remember what I foretould you in the beginning : neuerthelesse you must thinke that there are remedies for all mischifes , and if you will be ruled by myne aduise , we will soone finde the meane to ease you of this mishap . Ferdinando tooke comforte in hir discrecion , & fréendly kissed hir hand , gaue hir a cartlode of thankes for hir greate good will , promising to put to his vttermost force , and euermore to be ruled by hyr aduice . Thus they passed the dinner while , the Lady Fraunces alwayes refusing to declare hir conceipt of the late chaung which she perceiued in his Mistresse , for she thought best first to wynne his wyll vnto conformitie , by little and little , and then in the ende to perswade him with necessitye . When the other gentlewoman had vytayled hir , they departed , requiring him to rise and boldly to resist the fayntenesse of his feuer . The which he promised and so bad them a Dio. The Ladyes at their retourne found the courte in Dame Elynores chamber , who had there assembled hir secretary , Dame Pergo & the rest : ther they passed an hower or twayne in sundry discourses , wherein Dame Pergo did alwaies cast out some bone for mistresse Fraunces to gnaw vppon , for that in déede she perceyued hir harty affection towardes Ferdinando whereat Mistresse Fraunces chaunged no countenaunce , but reserued hir reuenge vntill a better oportunitie . At last ( quod Dame Fraunces vnto Mistresse Elinor ) and when will you goe vnto your seruaunt fayre Lady ? When he is sicke and I am whole , quod Dame Elinor . That is euen nowe quod the other , for howe sicke he is your selfe can witnesse : and howe well you are we must beare recorde . You maye as well be deceiued in my disposition ( quod Dame Elinor , as I was ouerséene in his sodaine alteration : and if he be sicke , you are meete to be his phisition : for you sawe yesterday that my paines dyd lyttle profite towardes his recomfort . Yes surelye sayde the other , not onelye I but all the rest had occasion to iudge that your curtesie was his chiefe comfort . Well , quod Dame Elinor , you knowe not what I knowe . Nor you what I thinke quod Dame Fraunces . Thinke what you lyst quod Elinor . In deede quod Fraunces , I may not thinke that you care , neither wyll I dye for your displeasure : & so halfe angrie she departed At supper they met againe , and the maister of the house demanded of his daughter Fraunces howe Fardinando did ? Syr ( quod she ) he dyd eate some what at dyner , and sithens I sawe him not . The more to blame quod he , and now I would haue al you gentlewomen take of the best meates and goe suppe with him , for company driueth away carefulnesse , and leaue you me here with your leauinges alone . Naye syr quod Mistresse Elinor , I pray you giue me leaue to beare you company , for I dare not aduenture thither . The Lorde of the Castle was contented & dispatched awaye the rest : who taking with them such viandes as they thought méetest , went vnto Ieronimies chamber , fynding him vp , and walking about to recouer strength : whereat Dame Fraunces reioysed , and declared how her Father had sente that company to attend him at supper . Ferdinando gaue great thankes , & missing now nothing but his Mistresse , thought not good yet to aske for hir , but because he partly gessed the cause of hir absence , he contented himselfe , hoping that when his lure was newe garnished , he shoulde easely recleame hyr from those coy conceyptes . They passed ouer their supper all in quyete , and sone after Mistresse Fraunces , being desirous to requite Dame Pargoes quibbes , requested that they might continue the pastime which Dame Pergo had begonne ouer night : whervnto they all consented , and the lot fell vnto Dame Fraunces to propounde the second question who adressing hir speche vnto Ferdinando said in this wise , Noble gouernor , I will reherse vnto you a strange historie , not fayned , neyther borowed out of any oulde aucthoritie , but a thing done in deed of late dayes , and not farre distant from this place where wée nowe remayne . It chaunced that a gentleman our neyghbour being maryed to a very fayre gentlewoman , liued with hir by the space of fower or fiue yeares in greate contentacion , trusting hir no lesse than he loued hir , and yet louing hir as much as any man could loue a woman . On that other side the gentlewoman had woonne ( vnto hir beautie ) a singular commendation for hir chast and modest behauiour . Yet it happened in time that a lustie young gentleman ( who very often resorted to them ) obtayned that at hir handes , which neuer any man coulde before him attaine : and to be plaine , he wonne so much in hir affections , that forgetting both hir owne duty , and hir husbandes kindnes , shée yéelded hir body at the commaundement of this louer , in which pastime they passed long tyme by theyr pollitycke gouernment . At last the frendes of this Lady ( and especially thrée sisters which she had ) espied ouermuch familliarity betwene the two louers , and dreading least it might breake out to their common reproch toke their sister apart , and declared that the world did iudge scarce well of the repayre of that Gentleman vnto hyr house : and that if she did not foresée it in time , shée should not onely léese the good credite which she hir selfe had hitherto possessed , but furthermore should distaine theyr whole race with common obloquy & reproche . These and sundry other Godly admonitions of those sisters , could not sink in the mind of this gentlewoman , for she dyd not only stand in defiaunce what any man could thinke of hir , but also séemed to accuse them , that ( because they saw hir estimation ( being their yonger ) to grow aboue their owne ) they had therefore deuised this meane to set variance betwene hir husbande and hir . The sisters seing their holesome counsell so reiected , and hir continue styll in hir obstinate opinion , adressed theyr speache vnto hir husbande , declaring that the worlde iudged not the best , neyther they themselues did very wel like of the familiaritie betwene their sister and that gentleman , and therfore aduised him to forecast all perils , and in time to forbid him his house . The husband ( on the other side ) had also conceiued suche a good opinion of his gest , & had growen into such a stricte familliaritie with him , that you might with more ease haue remoued a stone wal , than once to make him think amis , eyther of his wyfe , or of hir louer . Yea , and immediatelie after this conference , he woulde not sticke thus to say vnto his wife . Lamia ( for so in déede was hir name ) thou hast thrée such busie brained sisters , as I thinke shortlye their heads wyll breake : they woulde haue me to bée iellous of thée , no no Lamia . &c. so that he was not onely far from any such beléefe , but furthermore dyd euerye daye increase his curtesies towards the louer . The sisters being thus on all sides reiected , and yet perceyuing more & more an vnséemelye behauiour betwéene their sister and hir minion , began to melt in their owne grease : and such was theyr enraged pretence of reuenge , that they suborned diuers seruauntes in the house to watch so dilligentlye , as that this treason might be discouered . Amongst the rest , one mayde of subtile spirite had so long watched them , that at last she spied them go into the chamber together , and lockte the doore to them : wherevpon she ranne with all hast possible to hir Mayster , and toold him that if he would come with hir , she would shewe him a very straunge sighte . The gentleman ( suspecting nothing ) went with hir , vntill he came into a chamber néere vnto that wherein they had shut themselues . And she pointing hir mayster to the keyhole , bad him looke through , where he sawe the thing which moste mighte mislike him to behold . Where at he sodaynely drewe his Dagger , and turned towardes the mayde , who fled from him for feare of mischiefe . But when he could not ouertake hir in the heat of his coller , he commaunded that she should forth wyth trusse vp that little which she had , and to departe his seruice . And before hir departure , he found meanes to talke with hir , threatening that if euer she spake any worde of this mistery in any place where she should come , it should cost hir life . The mayde for feare departed in silence , and the Maister neuer changed countenan e to either his wife or to hir paramour , but fayned vnto his wife that he had turned a waye the mayde vpon that sodayne , for that shee had throwen a Kitchin knife at him , whiles he went about to correct a fault in hir . &c. Thus the good gentleman dranke vp his owne swette vnseene euery day , encreasing curtesie to the louer , and neuer chaunging countenaunce to his wife in any thing , but onely that he refrayned to haue such knowledge of hir carnally , as he in tims past had , and other men haue of their wiues . In this sort he continued by the space all most of halfe a yeare , neuerthelesse lamenting his mishap in solytary places . At last ( what moued him I know not ) he fell a gayn to company with his wife as other men do , and ( as I haue heard it sayed ) he vsed this pollicy . Euery time that he had knowledge of hir , he would leaue either in the bed , or in hir cusshencloth , or by hir looking glasse , or in some place where she must néedes finde it , a piece of money which then was in Italie called a Caroline . Thus he dealt with her continuallye by the space of fowre or fiue monethes , vsing hir neuerthelesse very kindly in all other respects , and prouiding for hir all things necessary at the first call . But vnto his geast he still augmented his curtesie , in such sort , that you would haue thought them to be sworne brothers . All this notwithstanding his wife much musing at these smal péeces which she founde in this sort , and furthermore , hauing sundrye times found hir husband in solitarye places making great lamentation , shée grewe inquisitiue , what should be the secréete cause of these alterations , vnto whom he would none otherwise answere , but the any man should finde occation to be more pensiue at one time than at another . The wife notwithstanding increasing hir suspect , imparted the same vnto hir louer , alledging therewithal that she doubted verye much least hir husband had some vehement suspicion of their affaires . The louer encoraged hir , & likewise declared , that if she would be importunate to enquire the cause , hir husband would not be able to kepe it from hir : and hauing now throughly instructed hir , shée dealt with her husband in this sort . One day when shée knew him to be in his study alone , she came into him , and hauing fast locked the doore after hir , & conueyed the keye into hir pocket , she began first with earnest entreaty , and then with teares to craue that he woulde no longer kéepe from hir the cause of his sodaine alteration . The husband dissimuled the matter still : at last she was so earnest to know for what cause he left money in such sort at sundry times : That he aunswered on this wise : Wyfe ( quod hée ) thou knowest howe long wée haue béene married togeather , and howe long I made so deare accompt of thée as euer man made of his Wife : since which dayes , thou knowest also howe long I refrained thy company , and howe long againe I haue vsed thy company , leauing the money in this sort , and the cause is this . So long as thou dyddest behaue thy selfe faithfullye towardes mée . I neuer lothed thy company : but sithens I haue perceiued thée to bée a harlotte , and therefore dyd I for a tyme refraine and forbeare to lye with thée , and nowe I can no longer forbeare it , I giue thée euery time that I lye with thée , a Caroline , which is to make thée vnder stande thine owne whordome : and this rewarde is sufficient for a whore . The wife beganne stoutlye to stand at defiaunce , but the husband cut of hir speach , and declared when , where , and how he had sene it : hereat the woman being abashed , and finding hir conscience guilty of asmuch as he had aledged , fell downe on hir knées , & with most bitter teares craued pardon , confessing hir offence : whereat hir husband ( moued with pitie ) & melting likewise in floods of lamentation , recomforted hir , promising that if from that day forwardes she would be true vnto him , he would not onely forgiue al that was past , but become more tender and louing vnto hir then euer he was . What doe I tarrye so long ? they became of accord : and in full accomplishment thereof , the gentlewoman dyd altogeather eschewe the company , the speach , and ( as much as in hir laye ) the sight of hir louer : although hir husband dyd continue his curtesie towards him , and often charged his wife to make him fayre resemblaunt . The Louer was nowe onelye left in perplexitie , who knewe nothing what might be the cause of all these chaunges , and that most gréeued him , he could by no meanes optaine againe the speach of his desired : he watched all opportunities , hée suborned messengers , hée wroote letters , but all in vaine . In the ende she caused to bée declared vnto him a time and place where she woulde méete him and speake with him . Being met , she put him in remembraunce of all that had passed betwéene them : shée layde also before him howe trusty she had bene vnto him in all professions : she confessed also howe faithfullye he had discharged the duety of a friend in al respectes , and therwithall she declared that her late alteration and pensiuenesse of minde was not without great cause , for that she had of late such a mishap , as might chaunge the disposition of any lyuing creature : Yea , and that the case was such , as vnlesse she found present remedy , hir death must needes ensue , and that spedely , for the preuenting whereof , she alledged that she had beaten hir braines with al deuises possible , and that in the ende she could thinke of no redresse but one , the which lay only in him to acomplish . Wherfore she besought him for all the loue and good will which had euer passed betwéene them , nowe to shewe the fruites of true friendship , and to gratifie hir with a frée graunt to this request . The louer who had alwayes bene desirous to pleasure hir in any thing , but now especially to recouer hir wonted kindnesse , gan franklye promise to accomplishe any thing that might be to him possible , yea , though it were to his great detriment , and therewithall , dyd déepely blame hir in that shée would so long torment hir selfe with any griefe , considering that it lay in him to helpe it . The Ladye aunswered , that she had so long kept it from his knowledge , bicause she doubted whether hée would be content to performe it or not , although it was such a thing as he might easely graunt without any manner of hurt to himself , & yet now in the ende she was forced to aduenture vppon his curtesie , being no longer able to beare the burden of hir griefe : the louer solicited her most earnestly to disclose it : and she ( as fast ) séemed to mistrust that he would not accomplish it . In the ende she tooke out a booke ( which she had brought for the nonce ) & bound him by othe to accomplishe it . The louer mistrusting nothing lesse than that ensued , toke the othe willingly , which done , she declared al that had passed betwene hir & hir husband : his griefe , hir repentance , his pardon , hir vowe , and in the ende of hir tale enioyned the louer , that from thenceforthwardes , he should neuer attempt to breake her constant determination , the louer replied that this was vnpossible . But she plainlye assured him , that if he graunted hir that request , she would be his friend in al honest & godly wise : if not , she put him out of doubt that she would eschew his company and flée from his sight as from a scorpion . The louer considering that hir request was but iust , accusing his owne guiltye conscience , remembring the great curtesies alwayes vsed by hir husband , and therewithall séeing the case now brought to such an issue , as that by no other meanes than by this it could be conceiled from the knowledge of the worlde : but most of all , being vrged by his othe , dyd at last giue an vnwilling consent , and yet a faithful promise to yelde vnto hir wyl in al thinges , and thus being become of one assent , he remaineth the derest friend & most welcome gest that may be , both to the Lady and hir husband : and the man and the wife so kind ( each to other ) as if there neuer had bene such a breche betwen them . Now , of you noble Gouernor I would faine lerne , whether the perplexity of the husband when he looked in at the keye hoole , or of the wife when she knewe the cause why the Carolines were so scattered , or of the louer when he knew what was his mistres charge , was greater of the thrée ? I might haue put in also the troubled thoughts of the sisters & the mayd , when they saw their good wil reiected , but let these thrée suffice . Gentle Hope ( quod Ferdinando ) you haue rehearsed ( & that right eloquently ) a notable tale , or rather a notable history , because you séeme to affirme , that is was done in dede of late & not far hence . Wherein I note fiue especial pointes : that is a maruailous patience in the husband , no lesse repentaunce in the wife , no smal boldnesse of the mayde , but muche more rashnesse in the sisters , & last of al , a rare tractabilitie in the louer . Neuerthelesse so returne vnto your question . I thinke the husbands perplexity greatest , because his losses abounded aboue the rest , & his iniuries were vncomparable . The Lady Fraunces did not seme to contrary him but rather smiled in hir sléeue at Dame Pergo , who had no lesse patience to here the tale recited , then the Lady Fraunces had pleasure in telling of it . By this time the sléeping houre aproched , & the Ladyes prepared their departure , when as mistres Fraunces sayd vnto the Venetiane : Although percase I shall not do it so handsomly as your mistres , yet good Trust ( quod she ) if you vouchsafe it , I can be content to trim vp your bed in the best maner that I may , as on who would be as glad as she to procure your quiet rest . Ferdinando gaue hir great thanks desiring hir not to trouble hirself , but to let his man alone with that charge . Thus they departed , & how al partyes toke rest that night I knowe not : but in the morning Ferdinando began to consider with himselfe that he might lye long ynough in his bed before his mistres would be apeased in hir peuishe conceipts : wherfore he arose , & being aparelled in his night gowne , tooke occation to walke in the gallery néere adioyning vnto his mistres chamber : but there might he walke long inough ere his Mistresse would come to walke with him . When dinner time came he went into the great chamber whereas the Lord of the Castle saluted him , being ioyful of his recouerye : Ieronimy giuing due thanks , declared that his friendly entertainement togeather with the great curtesie of the gentlewomen was such , as might reuiue a man although he were halfe dead . I would bée loath ( quod the hoast ) that any Gentleman comming to mee for good wyll , shoulde want any curtesie of intertainement that lyeth in my power . When the meate was serued to the table , the Gentlewomen came in all but Dame Elynor and Mistresse Pergo , the which Ferdinando marked very well , and it dyd somewhat abate his apetite . After diner , his Hope came vnto him and demaunded of him howe hée would passe the daye for his recreation ? to whome he answered euen as it best pleased hir . She deuised to walke into the parke , and so by litle and litle to acquaint himself with the ayre : he agréed , and they walked togeather being accompanied with one or two other gentle women . And although there were nowe more cause that hee shoulde mistrust his Mistresse than euer he had before receyued , yet the vehement passions which he sawe in her when she first came to visite him , and moreouer the earnest words which she pronounced in his extremitie , were such a refreshing to his minde , as that he determined no more to trouble him selfe with like conceiptes : concluding further , that if his mistresse were not faultie , then had he committed a foule offence in néedeles ielousie , and that if she were faultie ( especiallye with the Secretarie ) then no perswation could amend hir , nor any passion helpe him ? and this was the cause that enabled him after suche passing panges to abide the doubtfull conclusion : And thus manfully and valiantly to represse faintnesse of his mind : nothing doubting but that he should haue won his mistresse to pardon his presumption , & louingly to imbrace his seruice in wonted maner : but he was farre deceiued , for shée was nowe in a nother tewne , the which Mistresse Fraunces began partly to discouer vnto him as they walked togeather : for she burdened him that his mallady proceded onely of a disquiet minde . And if it dyd so my gentle Hope ( quod he ) what remedy ? My good Trust ( quod she ) none other but to plant quiet where disquiet began to grow . I haue determined ( quod he ) but I must craue the helpe of your assured friendship . Therof you may make accompt ( quod she ) but wherein ? Ferdinando walking apart with hir , began to declare that there was some contention hapened betwéene his mistres and him : the Lady tolde him that she was not ignoraunt thereof . Then he desired hir to treate so much in the cause , as they might eftsons come to Parlee : thereof I dare assure you ( quod Mistresse Fraunces , ) and at their returne she led him into his Mistresse Chamber , whome they founde lying on hir bed , whether gauled with any griefe , or weary of the thing ( which you woote of ) I know not , but there she lay : vnto whome Ferdinando gaue two or thrée salutations before she seemed to marke him . At last sayd the Lady Fraunces vnto hir , your seruaunt hearing of your sicknesse , hath aduentured thus far into the ayre to see you . I thank him ( quod dame Elinor ) & so lay still , refusing to giue him any countenance . Whereat he perceiuing all the other Gentlewomen fall to whispering , thought good , boldlye to pleade his owne case : and approching the bed began to enforce his vnwylling Mistresse vnto curtesie , wherein he vsed such vehemence as she could not wel by any meanes refuse to talk with him : but what their talke was , I may not take vpon me to tel you . Sufficeth this to be known , that in the end she pretended to passe ouer all olde grudges , and thencefoorth to pleasuure him as occation might serue , the which occation was so long in hapening , that in the ende he being nowe eftsones troubled with vnquiet fantasies , and forced to vse his penne againe as an Ambassadour betwéene them : one daye amongst the rest f●und oportunitye to thrust a letter into her bosome , wherein hée had earnestly requested another Mooneshine banquet or frydayes breakfast to recomfort his dulled spirites , wherevnto the Dame yelded this aunswere in writing , but of whose endyting iudge you .

I can but smyle at your simplicitye , who burden your frends with an impossibility . The case so stode as I could not though I would . Wherefore from hence fóorth either learne to frame your request more reasonablye , or else stand content with a flat repulse . SHE .

Ferdinando liked this letter but a litle : & being thereby drouen into his accustomed vaine , he compiled in verse this aunswere folowing , vpon these wordes conteined in her letter , I could not though I would .

I could not though I would : good Ladie saie not so , Since one good word of your good wil might sone redresse my wo , Where would is free before , there could can neuer faile : For profe , you see how gallies passe where ships can bere no saile , The wearie marriner where skies are ouercast , By readie will doth guide his skil and wins the hauen at last , The pretie bird that singes with pricke against her brest , Doth make a vertue of hir nede , to watche when others rest , And true the prouerbe is , which you haue laide apart , There is no hap can seeme to hard vnto a willing heart . Then louelie Ladie mine , you saie not as you should , In doutful tearms to answere thus : I could not though I would . Yes yes , full well you know , your can is quicke and good : And wilfull will is eke too swift , to shed my guiltlesse blood . But if good will were bent as prest as power is , Such will would quicklie find the skil to mende that is a misse . Wherefore if you desire to see my true loue spilt , Commaund and I will slea my selfe , that yours maie be the gilt , But if you haue no power to saie your seruaunt naie , Write thus : I maie not as I would , yet must I as I maie . Ferdinando . Ieronimy .

THus Ieronimy replied vpon his Mistres answere , hoping thereby to recouer some fauour at hir hands , but it would not be : so that nowe he had bene as likelye ( as at the first ) to haue fretted in fantasies , had not the Ladye Fraunces continually comforted him : and by litle & litle she droue suche reason into his minde , that now he began to subdue his humor with discretion , and to determine that if he might espie euident profe of his Mistres fraieltie , he would then stand content with patience perforce , & geue his Mistres the Bezo la , mano . And it happened one daye amongst others , that he resorted to his mistresse chamber and founde her ( allo solito ) lying vppon her bed , and the Secretarie with Dame Pergo and her bandmaide kéeping of her company . Whereat Ferdinando somewhat repyning , came to her and fell to dalliaunce , as one that had nowe rather aduenture to be thought presumptious than yéelde to be accompted bashfull , he cast his harme ouer his Mistresse , and began to accuse hir of sluggishnes , vsing some other bolde partes , as well to prouoke hir , as also to grieue the other . The Ladye séemed litle to delight in his dallying , but cast a glance at hir Secretarie , & therewith smiled , when as the Secretarie and Dame Pergo burst out into open laughter . The which Ferdinando perceiuing , and disdaining her ingratitude , was forced to depart , and in that fantasie compiled this Sonet .

WIth hir in armes that had my hart in holde , I stoode of late to pleade for pitie so : And as I did hir louelie lookes beholde , Shee cast a glaunce vpon my riuall foe . His fleering face prouoked hir to smile , When my salt teares were drowned in disdaine : He glad , I sad , he laught , ( alas the while ) I wept for woe : I pin'd for deadlie paine . And when I sawe none other boote preuaile , But reason rule must guide my skilfull minde : Why then ( quod I ) olde prouerbes neuer faile , For yet was neuer good Cat out of kinde . Nor woman true but euen as stories tell , Wonne with an egge , and lost againe with shell . Ferdinando . Ieronimy .

THis Sonet declareth that he began now to accompt of hir as she deserued , for it hath a sharpe conclusion , and it is somewhat too general . Well , as it is he lost it , where his Mistresse found it , and she immediatly imparied the same vnto Dame Pergo , and Dame Pergo vnto others : so that it quickely became common in the house . Amongst others Mistres Fraunces hauing recouered a copie of it , did seme to pardon the generallity , and to bée wel pleased with the perticularity thereof , the whiche shée bewraied one daye vnto Ferdinando in this wise . Of all the ioyes that euer I had ( my good Trust quod shee ) there is none where in I take more comforte than in your conformity . And although your present rage is such that you can bée content to condemne a number vnknowen , for the transgression of one to well knowne : yet I doe rather reioyce that you should iudge your pleasure ouer many , than too be abused by any . My good Hope ( quod he ) it were not reason that after such manyfold profes of your exceding curtesies , I should vse straung or contencious spéech with so deare a friend . And in déed I must confesse that the opinion which I haue conceiued of my Mistresse , hath stirred my penne to write very hardly agaynst all the feminine gender . But I praye you pardon me ( quod he ) & if it please you I will recant it , as also ( parcase ) I was but cloyd with surcuydrye , and presumed to think more than may be proued . Yea but how if it were proued quod Dame Fraunces ? If it were so ( which God forbid quod he ) then coulde you not blame me to conceiue that opinion . Howsoeuer I might blame you ( quod she ) I meane not to blame you , but I demaund further , if it be as I thinke & you suspect , what will you then do ? Surely ( quod he ) I haue determined to drinke vp mine own sorow secretly , and to bid them both a Dieu . I like your farewell better than your fantasie ( quod she ) and whensoeuer you can be content to take somuch paynes , as the Knight ( which had a night gowne garded with naked swordes ) dyd take , I thinke you maye put your selfe out of doubt of all these thynges . By these wordes and other spéech which she vttered vnto him , Ferdinando smelt how the world wente about , and therefore dyd one day in the grey morning aduenture to passe through the gallery towardes his Mistresse Chamber , hoping to haue found the doore open , but he founde the contrarye , and there attending in good deuotion , hearde the parting of his Mistresse and hir Secretarie , with many kinde wordes : whereby it appeared that the one was very loth to depart from the other . Poore Ieronimy was enforced to beare this burden , and after hée had attended there as long as the light woulde giue him leaue , he departed also to his Chamber , and apparelling himselfe , could not be quiet vntyll he had spoken with his mistresse , whome he burdened flatly with this despitefull trecherye : and she as fast denyed it , vntyl at last being styll vrged with such euident tokens as he alleadged , shée gaue him this bone to gnawe vppon . And if I dyd so ( quod shée ) what than ? Where vnto Ferdinando made none answere , but departed with this farewel . My losse is mine owne , and your gaine is none of yours , and sooner can I recouer my losse , than you enioye the gaine which you gape after . And when hée was in place sollitary , he compiled these following for a finall ende of the matter .

And if I did what then ? Are you agreeued therefore ? The Sea hath fishe for euerie man , And what would you haue more ? Thus did my Mistresse once , Amaze my minde with doubt : And popt a question for the nonce , To beate my braines about . Whereto I thus replied , Eache Fisherman can wishe , That all the Seas at euerie tide , Were his aloane to fishe . And so did I ( in vaine , ) But since it maie not be : Let such fishe there as finde the gaine , And leaue the losse for me . And with such lucke and losse , I will content my selfe : Till tydes of turning time maye tosse , Suche fishers on the shelfe . And when they sticke on sandes , That euerie man maie see : Then will I laugh and clappe my handes , As they doe nowe at mee . Ferdinando Ieronimy .

THus Ferdinando being no longer able to beare these extréeme despites , resolued to absent him selfe , swell for his owne further quiete , as also to auoide the occasion of greater mischiefes that might ensewe : And although the excéeding curtesies and approued fidelitie of Dame Fraunces had béene sufficient to allure the fast lyking of any man , especially considering that shée was reasonably fayre , and descended of a worthy father , who nowe fell flatlye to moue and solicite the same , yet such sinistre conceyptes had he taken by the frailtye of Dame Elinor , as that reiecting all proffers , and contempning all curtesies , he tooke his leaue , & ( without pretence of returne ) departed to his house in Venice : spending there the rest of his dayes in a dissolute kind of lyfe : & abandoning the worthy Lady Fraunces Chima , who ( dayly being gauled with the griefe of his great ingratitude ) dyd shortlye bring hir selfe into a myserable consumption : whereof ( after thrée yeares languishing ) shee dyed : Notwithstanding al which occurements the Lady Elinor liued long in the continuance of hir acustomed change : & thus we sée that where wicked lust doeth beare the name of loue , it doth not onelye infecte the lyght minded , but it maye also become confusion to others which are vowed to constancie . And to that ende I haue recyted this Fable which maye serue as ensample to warne the youthfull reader from attempting the lyke worthles enterprise . I knowe not howe my rude translation thereof wyll delight the finest iudgementes : But sure as Bartello writteth it in Italian , it is both pleasaunt and profitable : the which hath made mée aduenture thus to publishe the same in such simple style as I am able to endite : Desiring the gentle reader , rather to take example of reformation therein , then to finde faulte at the homelye handling of the same .

Euer or neuer .

¶ In praise of a gentlewoman who though she were not verye fayre , yet was she as harde fauoured as might be . IF men may credite giue , to true reported fames , Who doubtes but stately Rome had stoore of lustye louing Dames ? Whose eares haue bene so deafe , as neuer yet heard tell , Howe far the freshe Pompeia , for beautie dyd excel . And golden Marcus he , that swaide the Romaine sword , Bare witnesse of Boemia , by credite of his word . What neede I mo rehearse ? since all the world dyd know , How high the floods of beauties blaze , within those walles dyd flowe . And yet in all that choyse a worthy Romaine Knight , Antonius who conquered prowde Egipt by his might . Not al to please his eye , but most to ease his minde , Chose Cleopatra for his loue , and left the rest behind . A wondrous thing to reade , in all his victorye . She was an Egiptian . He snapt but hir for his owne share , to please his fantasie . She was not fayre God wot , the countreye breades none bright , Well maye we iudge hir skinne the foyle , because hyr téeth were white . Percase hyr louelye lookes , some prayses dyd deserue , But browne I dare be bolde shee was , for so the soyle dyd serue . And could Antonius forsake the fayre in Rome ? To loue his nutbrowne Ladye best , was this an equall doome ? I dare well say dames there , did beare him deadly grudge , His sentence had béene shortly sayde , if Faustine had bene iudge . For this I dare auow , ( without vaunt be it spoke ) So braue a knight as Anthony , held al their necks in yoke : I leaue not Lucrece out , beléeue in hir who lyst , I thinke she would haue lik'd his lure , & stooped to his fist . What mou'd the chieftain then , to lincke his liking thus ? I would some Romaine dame were here , the question to discusse . But that I read her life , do finde therein by fame , Howe cleare hir curtesie dyd shine , in honour of hir name . Hir bountie did excell , hir trueth had neuer pere , Hir louely lokes , hir pleasant spéech , hir lusty louing chere . And all the worthy giftes , that euer yet were found , Within this good Egiptian Quéene , dyd séeme for to abound . Wherefore he worthy was , to win the golden fléece , Which scornd the blasing starres in Rome , to conquere such a péece . And shée to quite his loue , in spite of dreadfull death , Enshrinde with Snakes within his Tombe , did yéeld hir parting breath .

Allegoria . IF fortune fauord him , then may that man reioyce , And thinke himself a happy man by hap of happy choice . Who loues and is belou'd of one as good , as true , As kind as Cleopatra was , and yet more bright of hewe . Hir eyes as greye as glasse , hir téeth as white as mylke , A ruddy lippe , a dimpled chyn , a skyn as smoth as silke . A wight what could you more , that may content mannes minde , And hath supplies for eu'ry want , that any man can finde . And may him selfe assure , when hence his life shall passe , She wil be stong to death with snakes , as Cleopatra was . Si fortunatus infoelix .

¶ The praise of Phillip Sparrowe . OF all the byrdes that I doe know , Phillip my Sparow hath no peare : For sit she high or lye she lowe , Be shée farre off , or be shée neare , There is no byrde so fayre , so fine , Nor yet so freshe as this of myne . Come in a morning merely , When Phillip hath bene lately fed , Or in an euening soberlye , When Phillip lyst to goe to bed : It is a heauen to heare my Phippe , Howe she can chirpe with chery lippe . She neuer wanders farre abroade , But is at hand when I doe call : If I commaund shée layes on loade . With lips , with téeth , with tongue and all . She chants , she chirpes , she makes such chéere , That I beléeue she hath no peere . And yet besides all this good sport , My Phillip can both sing and daunce : With new found toyes of sundry sort , My Phillip can both pricke and praunce : As if you saye but fend cut phippe , Lord how the peat will turne and skippe . Hir fethers are so freshe of hewe , And so well proyned euerye daye : She lackes none oyle , I warrant you : To trimme hir tayle both tricke and gaye . And though hir mouth be somewhat wide , Hir tonge is sweet and short beside . And for the rest I dare compare , She is both tender , swéet and soft : She neuer lacketh dainty fare , But is well fed and féedeth oft : For if my phip haue lust to eate , I warrant you phip lacks no meate . And then if that hir meat be good , And such as like do loue alway : She will lay lips theron by the rood , And sée that none be cast away : For when she once hath felt a fitte , Phillip will crie still , yit , yit , yit . And to tell trueth he were to blame , Which had so fine a Byrde as she , To make him all this goodly game , Without suspect or iellousie : He were a churle and knewe no good , Would sée hir faynt for lacke of food . Wherfore I sing and euer shall , To prayse as I haue often prou'd There is no byrd amongst them all , So worthy for to be belou'd . Let other prayse what byrd they will , Sweet Phillip shal be my byrd still . Si fortunatus infoelix .

¶ Farewell with a mischeife , written by a louer being disdaynefullye abiected by a dame of highe calling , Who had chosen ( in his place ) a playe fellow of baser condition : & therfore he determined to step a side , and before his departure giueth hir this farwell in verse . THy byrth , thy beautie , nor thy braue attyre , ( Disdaynfull Dame , which doest me double wrong ) Thy hygh estate , which sets thy harte on fire , Or newe found choyse , which cannot serue thee long Shall make me dread , with pen for to reherse , Thy skittish déedes , in this my parting verse . For why thou knowest , and I my selfe can tell , By many vowes , how thou to me wert bound : And how for ioye , thy hart did seeme to swell , And in delight , how thy desires were drownd . When of thy will , the walles I did assayle , Wherin fond fancie , fought for mine auayle . And though my mind , haue small delight to vaunt , Yet must I vowe , my hart to thee was true : My hand was alwayes able for to daunt , Thy slaundrous ●●oes , and kepe theyr tongues in mew . My head ( though dull ) was yet of such deuise , As might haue kept thy name alwayes in price . And for the rest my body was not braue , But able yet , of substaunce to allaye , The raging lust , wherein thy limbes did raue , And quench the coales , which kindled thée to playe . Such one I was , and such alwayes wyl be , For worthy Dames , but then I meane not thée . For thou hast caught a proper paragon , A theefe , a cowarde , and a Peacocke foole : An Ase , a milkesop , and a minion , Which hath no oyle thy furyous flames to coole , Such on he is , a pheare for thée most fit , A wandring gest , to please thy wauering wit . A theefe I counte him for he robbes vs both , Thée of thy name , and me of my delight : A coward is he noted where he goeth , Since euery child is match to him in might . And for his pride no more , but marke his plumes , The which to princke , he dayes and nights consumes . The rest thy selfe , in secret sorte can iudge , He rides not me , thou knowest his sadell best : And though these tricks of thine , mought make me grudg , And kindle wrath , in my reuenging brest Yet of my selfe , and not to please thy mind , I stand content , my rage in rule to binde . And farre from thée now must I take my flight , Where tongues maye tell , ( and I not sée ) thy fall : Where I maye drinke these druggs of thy dispite , To purge my Melancholike mind with all . In secrete so , my stomacke will I sterue , Wishing thee better than thou doest deserue . Spraeta tamen viuunt .

The doale of disdaine written by alouer disdainfully reiected contrary to former promise . THe deadly dropes of darke disdayne , Which dayly fall on my deserte . The lingring sute long spent in vayne , Wherof I féele no frute but smart : Enforce me now this wordes to write : Not all for loue but more for spite . The which to the I must rehearse , Whom I dyd honour , serue and trust . And though the musicke of my verse , Be plainsong tune both true and iust : Content thée yet to here my song , For els thou doest me doobble wrong . I must alledge , and thou canst tell How faithfully I vowed to serue , And howe thou séemest to like me well : And how thou saydest I did deserue , To be thy Lord , thy Knight , thy King. And how much more I list not sing . And canst thou now ( thou cruell one ) Condemne desert to déepe dispayre ? Is all thy promise past and gone ? Is fayth so fled into the ayre ? If that be so , what rests for me ? But thus in song to saye to thée . If Cressydes name were not so knowen , And written wide on euery wall : If brute of pryde were not so blowen , Vpon Angelica withall : For hault disdayne thou mightst be she , Angelica refusing the most famous knights in the whole worlde , chose at last Medoro a poore seruing man . Or Cresside for inconstancie . And in reward of thy desart , I hope at last to sée thée payd : With déepe repentaunce for thy part . Which thou hast now so lewedly playd . Medoro hée must bée thy make , Since thou Orlando doest for sake . Such is the fruite that groweth alwaies , Vpon the roote of ripe disdaine : Such kindly wages Cupide payes . Where constant hearts cannot remaine , I hope to see thée in such bandes , When I may laugh and clappe my handes . But yet for thee I must protest , But sure the faulte is none of thine , Thou art as true as is the best , That euer came of Cressedes lyne : For constant yet was neuer none , But in vnconstancie alone . Meritum petere , graue .

¶ Mars in despite of Vulcane written for an absent louer ( parted from his Lady by Sea. ) BOth deepe and dreadfull were the Seas , Which held Leander from his loue , Yet could no doubtes his mind appease , Nor saue his life for hir behoue : But guiltlesse bloud it selfe would spill , To please the waues and worke his wyll . O greedye gulfe , O wretched waues , O cruell floods , O sinke of shames , You holde true louers bound like slaues , And keepe them from their worthy Dames : Your open mouth gapes euermore , Tyll one or both be drowned therefore . For proofe whereof my selfe maye sing , And shrich to pearce the loftye skies , Whose Lady left me languishing , Vppon the shoare in woofull wise . And crost the Seas out of my sight , Wherby I lost my chiefe delight . She sayd that no such trustlesse flood , Should keepe our loues ( long time ) in twayne ▪ She sware no bread shoulde doe hyr good . Till she mighe sée my selfe agayne . She sayd and swore these wordes and mo , But now I finde them nothing so . What resteth then for me to doo , Thou salte sea foome come saye thy minde Should I come drowne within thee to , That am of true Leanders kind ? And headlong cast this corpes of mine , Into this greedy guttes of thine . No cruel , but in spite of thée , I will make Seas where earst were none , My teares shall flowe in full degree , Tyll all my myrth may ebbe to mone . Into such droppes I meane to melt , And in such Seas my selfe to swelt .

Lenuoie . ¶ Yet you déere Dame for whome I fade , Thus staruing still in wretched state : Remember once your promise made , Performe it now though all to late . Come home to Mars who may you please , Let Vulcane bide beyond the Seas . Meritum petere , graue .

¶ Patience perforce , wherein an absent louer doth thus encourage his Lady to continew constant . COntent thy selfe with patience perforce : And quenche no loue with droppes of darcke mistrust : Let absence haue no power to diuorce , Thy faithfull friend which meaneth to be iust . Beare but a while thy constance to declare , For when I come one ynche shall breake no square . I must confesse that promise dyd me binde , For to haue sene thy seemely selfe ere now : And if thou knewest what griefes did gaule my minde , Bicause I coulde not kéepe that faithfull vowe . My iust excuse , I can my selfe assure , With lytle paine thy pardon might procure . But call to minde how long Vlisses was , In lingring absence , from his louing make : And howe she deigned then hir dayes to passe , In solitary silence for his sake . Be thou a true Penelope to me , And thou shalt sone thine owne Vlisses sée . What sayd I ? sone ? yea sone I saye againe , I wyll come sone and soner if I maye : Beléeue me nowe it is a pinching payne , To thinke of loue , when louers are awaye . Such thoughts I haue , and when I thinke on thée . My thoughtes are there , whereas my bones would bée . The longing lust which Priames sonne of Troye , Had for to see his Cresside come againe : Could not exceede the depth of mine anoye , Nor séeme to passe the patterne of my payne . I fryse in hope , I thaw in hote desire , Farre from the flame , and yet I burne like fire . Wherfore deare friend , thinke on the pleasures past . And let my teares , for both our paines suffise : The lingring ioyes , when as they come at last , Are bet then those , which passe in posting wise . And I my selfe , to proue this tale is true , In hast , post hast , thy comfort will renew . Meritum petere , graue .

¶ A letter deuised for a yong louer . REceiue you worthy Dame , this rude & ragged verse , Lend wylling eare vnto the tale , which I shall nowe rehearse . And though my witlesse woordes might mooue you for to smile , Yet trust to that which I shal tel , & neuer marke my stile . Amongst fiue hundreth Dames , presented to my view , I find most cause by due desert , to like the best of you . I sée your beautie such , as séemeth to suffice , To binde my heart in linckes of loue , by iudgement of myne eyes . And but your bounty quench , the coales of quicke desire , I feare that face of yours wyll set , ten thousand hearts on fire . But bounty so aboundes , aboue al my desart , As that I quake and shrinke for feare , to shewe you of my smart . Yet since mine eye made choice , my hart shal not repent , But yéeld it self vnto your wyl , & therwith stand content . God knowth I am not great , my power it is not much , The greater glorye shall you gaine , to shew your fauour suche . And what I am or haue , all that I yéeld to you , My hande and sworde shall serue alwayes , to proue my tongue is true . Then take me for your owne , and so I wyl be still , Beléeue me nowe . I make this vowe , in hope of your good wyll . Which if I may obtaine , God leaue me when I change , This is the tale I meant to tell , good Lady be not strange . Meritum petere , graue .

¶ Dauids salutacions to Berzabe wherein are three sonets in sequence , written vppon this occation . The deuiser hereof amongst other friendes had named a gentlewoman his Berzabe , and she was content to call him hir Dauid . The man presented his Lady with a booke of the Golden Asse , written by Lucius Apuleius , and in the beginning of the books wrote this sequence . You must conferre it with the Historye of Apuleius , for else it wyll haue small grace . THis Apuleius was in Affricke borne . And tooke delight to trauaile Thessaly , As one that helde his natiue soyle in skorne . In foraine coastes to feede his fantasie . And such againe as wandring wits find out , This yonker wonne by wyll and weary toyle , A youth mispent , a doting age in doubt , A body brusd with many a beastly broyle , A presaunt pleasure passing on a pace , And paynting plaine the path of penitence . A frollicke faudur foyld with fowle disgrace , When hoary heares should claime their reuerence . Such is the fruite that growes on gadding trées , Such kynd of mell most moueth busie Bées . For Lucius he . Esteeming more one ounce of present sport , Than elders doe a pound of perfect wit : First to the bowre of beautie doth resorte , And there in pleasure passed many a fitte , His worthie race he ( recklesse ) doth forget , With small regarde in great affaires he réeles , No counsell graue , nor good aduise can set His braynes in brake that whirled still on whéeles . For if Byrhena coulde haue helde him backe , From Venus court where he nowe nufled was , His lustie limmes had neuer founde the lacke Of manlie shape : the figure of an Asse , Had not bene blazed on his bloud and bones , To wound his will with torments all attones . But Fotis she , Who sawe this Lording whitled with the cup Of vaine delight , wherof he gan to tast : Pourde out apace , and stilde the Mazor vp , With drunken dole : yea after that in hast , She greazde this guest with sause of Sorcerie , And fedde his minde with knacks both queint and strange : Lo here the treazon and the trecherie Of gadding girles , when they delight to range . For Lucius thinking to becoms a foule , Became a foole , yea more than that , an Asse , A bobbing blocke , a beating stocke , an owle , Well woondred at in place where he did passe : And spent his time , his trauaile and his cost , To purchase payne and all his labor lost . Yet I pore I , Who make of thée my Fotys and my frende , In like delight my youthfull yeares to spend : Do hope thou wilt from such soure sause defend , Dauid thy King. Meritum petere graue .

Soone acquainted , soone forgotten , As appeareth here by an vncourteous farewell to an inconstant Dame. IF what you want , you ( wanton ) had at will , A stedfast minde , a faythfull louing heart : If what you speake you woulde performe it still , If from your worde your déede did not reuerte : If youthfull yeares your thoughtes did not so rule , As elder dayes may scorne your friendship fraile , Your doubled fansie would not thus recule , For péeuish pryde which nowe I must bewaile . For Cresside faire did Troilus neuer loue , More deare than I estéemde your freamed cheare , Whose wauering wayes ( since nowe I do them proue ) By true reporte this witnesse with me beare : That if your friendship be not to deare bought , The price is great that nothing giues for nought . Meritum petere graue .

FINIS .

¶ Certayne notes of Instruction concerning the making of verse or ryme in English , written at the request of Master Edouardo Donati .

SIgnor Edouardo , since promise is debt , and you ( by the lawe of friendship ) do burden me with a promise that I shoulde lende you instructions towards the making of English verse or ryme , I will assaye to discharge the same , though not so perfectly as I would , yet as readily as I may : and therwithall I pray you consider that Quot homines , tot Sententiae , especially in Poetrie ▪ wherein ( neuerthelesse ) I dare not challenge any degree , and yet will I at your request aduenture to set downe my simple skill in such simple manner as I haue vsed , referring the same hereafter to the correction of the Laureate . And you shall haue it in these few poynts followyng .

THe first and most necessarie poynt that euer I founde méete to be considered in making of a delectable poeme is this , to grounde it vpon some fine inuention . For it is not inough to roll in pleasant woordes , nor yet to thunder in Rym , Ram , Ruff , by letter ( quoth my master Chaucer ) nor yet to abounde in apt vocables , or epythetes , vnlesse the Inuention haue in it also aliquid salis . By this aliquid salis , I meane some good and fine deuise , shewing the quicke capacitie of a writer : and where I say some good and fine inuention , I meane that I would haue if both fine and good . For many inuentions are so superfine , that they are Vix good . And againe many Inuentions are good , and yet not finely handled . And for a general for warning what Theame soeuer you do take in hande , if you do handle it but tanquam in oratione perpetua , and neuer studie for some depth of deuise in the Inuention , & some figures also in the handlyng thereof : it will appeare to the skilfull Reader but a tale of a tubbe . To deliuer vnto you generall examples it were almoste vnpossible , sithence the occasions of Inuentions are ( as it were ) infinite : neuerthelesse take in worth mine opinion , and perceyue my furder meanyng in these few poynts . If I should vndertake to wryte in prayse of a gentlewoman , I would neither praise hir christal eye , nor hir cherrie lippe , &c. For these things are trita & obuia . But I would either finde some supernaturall cause wherby my penne might walke in the superlatiue degrée , or els I would vndertake to aunswere for any imperfection that shée hath , and there vpon rayse the prayse of hir commendacion . Likewise if I should disclose my pretence in loue , I would eyther make a straunge discourse of some intollerable passion , or finde occasion to pleade by the example of some historie , or discouer my disquiet in shadowes per Allegoriam , or vse the couertest meane that I could to auoyde the vncomely customes of common writers . Thus much I aduenture to deliuer vnto you ( my fréend ) vpon the rule of Inuention , which of all other rules is most to be marked , and hardest to be prescribed in certayne and infallible rules , neuerthelesse to conclude therein , I would haue you stand most vpon the excellencie of your Inuention , & sticke not to studie déepely for some fine deuise . For that beyng founde , pleasant woordes will follow well inough and fast inough .

2 Your Inuention being once deuised , take héede that neither pleasure of rime , nor varietie of deuise , do carie you from it : for as to vse obscure & darke phrases in a pleasant Sonet , is nothing delectable , so to entermingle merie iests in a serious matter is an Indecorum .

3 I will next aduise you that you hold the iust measure wherwith you begin your verse , I will not denie but this may seeme a preposterous ordre : but bycause I couet rather to satisfie you particularly , than to vndertake a generall tradition , I wil not somuch stand vpon the manner as the matter of my precepts . I say then , remember to holde the same measure wherwith you begin , whether it be in a verse of sixe syllables , eight , ten , twelue , &c. and though this precept might séeme ridiculous vnto you , since euery yong scholler can conceiue that he ought to continue in the same measure wher with he beginneth , yet do I see and read many mens Poems now adayes , whiche beginning with the measure of xij . in the first line , & xiiij . in the second ( which is the common kinde of verse ) they wil yet ( by that time they haue passed ouer a few verses ) fal into xiiij . & fourtene , & sic de similibus , the which is either forgetfulnes or carelesnes .

4 And in your verses remembre to place euery worde in his natural Emphasis or sound , that is to say in such wise , and with such length or shortnesse , eleuation or depression of sillables , as it is commonly pronounced or vsed : to expresse the same we haue thrée maner of accents , grauis , lenis , & circumflexa , the whiche I would english thus , the long accent , the short accent , & that whiche is indifferent : the graue accent is marked by this caracte ,

/ the light accent is noted thus , \ & the circūflexe or indifferent is thus signified ˜ : the graue accent is drawen out or eleuate , and maketh that sillable long whervpon it is placed : the light accent is depressed or snatched vp , and maketh that sillable short vpon the which it lighteth : the circumflexe accent is indifferent , sometimes short , sometimes long , sometimes depressed & sometimes eleuate . For example of th' emphasis or natural sound of words , this word Treasure , hath the graue accent vpon the first sillable , whereas if it shoulde be written in this sorte , Treasure , nowe were the second sillable long , & that were cleane contrarie to the common vse wherwith it is pronounced . For furder explanation hereof , note you that commonly now a dayes in english rimes ( for I dare not cal them English verses ) we vse none other order but a foote of two sillables , wherof the first is depressed or made short , & the second is eleuate or made long : and that sound or scanning continueth throughout the verse . We haue vsed in times past other kindes of Méeters : as for example this following :

No wight in this world , that wealth can attayne ,

Vnlesse he beleue , that all is but vayne .

Also our father Chaucer hath vsed the same libertie in féete and measures that the Latinists do vse : and who so euer do peruse and well consider his workes , he shall finde that although his lines are not alwayes of one selfe same number of Syllables , yet beyng redde by one that hath vnderstanding , the longest verse and that which hath most Syllables in it , will fall ( to the eare ) correspondent vnto that whiche hath fewest sillables in it : and like wise that whiche hath in it fewest syllables , shal be founde yet to consist of woordes that haue suche naturall sounde , as may séeme equall in length to a verse which hath many moe sillables of lighter accentes . And surely I can lament that wee are fallen into suche a playne and simple manner of wryting , that there is none other foote vsed but one : wherby our Poemes may iustly be called Rithmes , and cannot by any right challenge the name of a Verse . But since it is so , let vs take the forde as we finde it , and lette me set downe vnto you suche rules or precepts that euen in this playne foote of two syllables you wreste no woorde from his natural and vsuall sounde , I do not meane hereby that you may vse none other wordes but of twoo sillables , for therein you may vse discretion according to occasion of matter : but my meaning is , that all the wordes in your verse be so placed as the first sillable may sound short or be depressed , the second long or eleuate , the third shorte , the fourth long , the fifth shorte , &c. For example of my meaning in this point marke these two verses :

I vnderstand your meanyng by your eye .

Your meaning I vnderstand by your eye .

In these two verses there séemeth no difference at all , since the one hath the very selfe same woordes that the other hath , and yet the latter verse is neyther true nor pleasant , & the first verse may passe the musters . The fault of the latter verse is that this worde vnderstand is therein so placed as the graue accent falleth vpon der , and therby maketh der , in this worde vnderstand to be eleuated : which is contrarie to the naturall or vsual pronunciation : for we say

vnderstand , and not vnderstand .

5 Here by the way I thinke it not amisse to forewarne you that you thrust as few wordes of many sillables into your verse as may be : and herevnto I might alledge many reasons : first the most auncient English wordes are of one sillable , so that the more monasyllables that you vse , the truer Englishman you shall séeme , and the lesse you shall smell of the Inkehorne . Also wordes of many syllables do cloye a verse and make it vnpleasant , whereas woordes of one syllable will more easily fall to be shorte or long as occasion requireth , or wil be adapted to become circumflexe or of an indifferent sounde .

6 I would exhorte you also to beware of rime without reason : my meaning is hereby that your rime leade you not from your firste Inuention , for many wryters when they haue layed the platforme of their inuention , are yet drawen sometimes ( by ryme ) to forget it or at least to alter it , as when they cannot readily finde out a worde whiche maye rime to the first ( and yet continue their determinate Inuention ) they do then eyther botche it vp with a worde that will ryme ( howe small reason soeuer it carie with it ) or els they alter their first worde and so percase decline or trouble their former Inuention : But do you alwayes hold your first determined Inuention , and do rather searche the bottome of your braynes for apte wordes , than chaunge good reason for rumbling rime .

7 To help you a little with ryme ( which is also a plaine yong schollers lesson ) worke thus , when you haue set downe your first verse , take the last worde thereof and coumpt ouer all the wordes of the selfe same sounde by order of the Alphabete : As for example , the laste woorde of your firste line is care , to ryme therwith you haue bare , clare , dare , fare , gare , hare , and share , mare , snare , rare , stare , & ware , &c. Of all these take that which best may serue your purpose , carying reason with rime : and if none of them will serue so , then alter the laste worde of your former verse , but yet do not willingly alter the meanyng of your Inuention .

8 You may vse the same Figures or Tropes in verse which are vsed in prose , and in my iudgement they serue more aptly , and haue greater grace in verse than they haue in prose : but yet therein remembre this old adage , Ne quid nimis , as many wryters which do not know the vse of any other figure than that whiche is expressed in repeticion of sundrie wordes beginning all with one letter , the whiche ( beyng modestly vsed ) lendeth good grace to a verse : but they do so hunte a letter to death , that they make it Crambe , and Crambe bis positum mors est : therfore Ne quid nimis .

9 Also asmuche as may be , eschew straunge words , or obsoleta & inusitata , vnlesse the Theame do giue iust occasion : marie in some places a straunge worde doth drawe attentiue reading , but yet I woulde haue you therein to vse discretion .

10 And asmuch as you may , frame your stile to perspicuity and to be sensible : for the haughty obscure verse doth not much delight , and the verse that is to easie is like a tale of a rosted horse : but let your Poeme be such as may both delight and draw attentiue readyng , and therewithal may deliuer such matter as be worth the marking .

11 You shall do very well to vse your verse after th englishe phrase , and not after the maner of other languages : The Latinists do commonly set the adiectiue after the Substantiue : As for example Femina pulchra , aedes altae , &c. but if we should say in English a woman fayre , a house high , &c. it would haue but small grace : for we say a good man , and not a man good , &c. And yet I will not altogether forbidde it you , for in some places , it may be borne , but not so hardly as some vse it which wryte thus : Now let vs go to Temple ours , I will go visit mother myne &c.

Surely I smile at the simplicitie of such deuisers which might aswell haue sayde it in playne Englishe phrase , and yet haue better pleased all eares , than they satisfie their owne fancies by suche superfinesse . Therefore euen as I haue aduised you to place all wordes in their naturall or most common and vsuall pronunciation , so would I wishe you to frame all sentences in their mother phrase and proper Idióma , and yet sometimes ( as I haue sayd before ) the contrarie may be borne , but that is rather where rime enforceth , or per licentiam Poēticam , than it is otherwise lawfull or commendable .

12 This poeticall licence is a shrewde fellow , and couereth many faults in a verse , it maketh wordes longer , shorter , of mo sillables , of fewer , newer , older , truer , falser , and to conclude it turkeneth all things at pleasure , for example , ydone for done , adowne for downe , orecome for ouercome , tane for taken , power for powre , heauen for heavn , thewes for good partes or good qualities , and a numbre of other whiche were but tedious and needelesse to rehearse , since your owne iudgement and readyng will soone make you espie such aduauntages .

13 There are also certayne pauses or restes in a verse whiche may be called Ceasures , whereof I woulde be lothe to stande long , since it is at discretion of the wryter , and they haue bene first deuised ( as should seeme ) by the Musicians : but yet thus much I will aduenture to wryte , that in mine opinion in a verse of eight sillables , the pause will stand best in the middest , in a verse of tenne it will best be placed at the ende of the first foure sillables : in a verse of twelue , in the midst , in verses o●●welue , in the firste and fouretene in the seconde , wée place the pause commonly in the midst of the first , and at the ende of the first eight sillables in the second . In Rithme royall , it is at the wryters discretion , and forceth not where the pause be vntill the ende of the line .

14 And here bycause I haue named Rithme royall , I will tell you also mine opinion aswell of that as of the names which other rymes haue commonly borne heretofore . Rythme royall is a verse of tenne sillables , and seuen such verses make a staffe , whereof the first and thirde lines do aunswer ( acrosse ) in like terminations and rime , the second , fourth , and fifth , do likewise answere eche other in terminations , and the two last do combine and shut vp the Sentence : this hath bene called Rithme royall , & surely it is a royall kinde of verse , seruing best for graue discourses . There is also another kinde called Ballade , and thereof are sundrie sortes : for a man may write ballade in a staffe of sixe lines , euery line conteyning eighte or sixe sillables , whereof the firste and third , second and fourth do rime acrosse , and the fifth and sixth do rime togither in conclusion . You may write also your ballad of tenne sillables rimyng as before is declared , but these two were wont to be most commonly vsed in ballade , which propre name was ( I thinke ) deriued of this worde in Italian Ballare , whiche signifieth to daunce . And in deed those kinds of rimes serue beste for daunces or light matters . Then haue you also a rondlette , the which doth alwayes end with one self same foote or repeticion , and was thereof ( in my iudgement ) called a rondelet . This may consist of such measure as best liketh the wryter , then haue you Sonnets , some thinke that all Poemes ( being short ) may be called Sonets , as in déede it is a diminutiue worde deriued of Sonare , but yet I can beste allowe to call those Sonets whiche are of fouretene lynes , euery line conteyning tenne syllables . The firste twelue do ryme in staues of foure lines by crosse méetre , and the last twoo ryming togither do conclude the whole There are Dyzaynes , & Syxaines which are of ten lines , and of sixe lines , commonly vsed by the French , which some English writers do also terme by the name of Sonettes . Then is there an old kinde of Rithme called Verlayes , deriued ( as I haue redde ) of this worde Verd whiche betokeneth Gréene , and Laye which betokeneth a Song , as if you would say gréene Songes : but I muste tell you by the way , that I neuer redde any verse which I saw by aucthoritie called Verlay , but one , and that was a long discourse in verses of tenne sillables , whereof the foure first did ryme acrosse , and the fifth did aunswere to the firste and thirde , breaking off there , and so going on to another termination , Of this I could shewe example of imitation in mine own verses written to the right honorable the Lord Grey of Wilton vpon my iourney into Holland , &c. There are also certaine Poemes deuised of tenne syllables , whereof the first aunswereth in termination with the fourth , and the second and thirde answere eche other : these are more vsed by other nations than by vs , neyther can I tell readily what name to giue them . And the commonest sort of verse which we vse now adayes ( viz. the long verse of twelue and fourtene sillables ) I know not certainly howe to name it , vnlesse I should say that it doth consist of Poulters measure , which giueth .xij. for one dozen and xiiij . for another . But let this suffise ( if it be not to much ) for the sundrie sortes of verses which we vse now adayes .

15 In all these sortes of verses when soeuer you vndertake to write , auoyde prolixitie and tediousnesse , & euer as neare as you can , do finish the sentence and meaning at the end of euery staffe where you wright staues , & at the end of euery two lines where you write by cooples or poulters measure : for I see many writers which draw their sentences in length , & make an ende at latter Lammas : for commonly before they end , the Reader hath forgotten where he begon . But do you ( if you wil follow my aduise ) eschue prolixitie and knit vp your sentences as compendiously as you may , since breuitie ( so that it be not drowned in obscuritie ) is most commendable .

16 I had forgotten a notable kinde of ryme , called ryding rime , and that is suche as our Mayster and Father Chaucer vsed in his Canterburie tales , and in diuers other delectable and light enterprises : but though it come to my remembrance somewhat out of order , it shall not yet come altogether out of time , for I will nowe tell you a conceipt whiche I had before forgotten to wryte : you may see ( by the way ) that I holde a preposterous order in my traditions , but as I sayde before I wryte moued by good wil , and not to shewe my skill . Then to returne too my matter , as this riding rime serueth most aptly to wryte a merie tale , so Rythme royall is fittest for a graue discourse . Ballades are beste of matters of loue , and rondlettes moste apt for the beating or handlyng of an adage or common prouerbe : Sonets serue aswell in matters of loue as of discourse : Dizaymes and Sixames for shorte Fantazies : Verlayes for an effectuall proposition , although by the name you might otherwise iudge of Verlayes , and the long verse of twelue and fouretene sillables , although it be now adayes vsed in all Theames , yet in my iudgement it would serue best for Psalmes and Himpnes .

I woulde stande longer in these traditions , were it not that I doubt mine owne ignoraunce , but as I sayde before , I know that I write to my fréede , and affying my selfe therevpon , I make an ende .

FINIS .

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