A
POSIE
of
Gilloflowers
,
eche
differing
from
other
in
colour
and
odour
,
yet
all
sweete
.
By
Humfrey
Gifford
Gent.
¶
Imprinted
at
London
for
Iohn
Perin
,
and
are
to
be
solde
at
his
shop
in
Paules
Churchyard
,
at
the
signe
of
the
Angell
.
1580.
❧
To
the
Worshipfull
his
very
good
Maister
Edward
Cope
of
Edon
,
Esquier
,
Humfrey
Gifforde
wisheth
many
yeeres
of
prosperities
.
HAuing
by
your
worships
fauourable
permittance
,
conuenient
oportunity
in
your
seruice
,
to
bestow
certain
houres
amongst
my
bookes
,
with
which
exercise
(
of
all
earthly
recreations
I
am
most
delighted
)
both
reason
bids
me
,
and
duety
bindes
me
,
to
make
you
partaker
of
some
of
the
fruits
of
my
studies
.
And
farther
,
your
woorship
being
the
onely
maister
that
euer
I
serued
,
vnto
whom
(
my
parentes
excepted
)
I
acknowledge
my selfe
more
bounde
,
then
to
al
the
worlde
besides
,
I
might
be
sayde
to
carie
a
verie
bad
minde
with
me
,
if
I
shoulde
not
endeuour
by
some
one
meanes
or
other
,
to
shewe
my selfe
thankefull
for
your
benefites
.
And
not
knowing
better
how
to
doe
the
same
,
I
haue
(
amongst
other
toies
by
me
taken
in
hand
)
made
speciall
choice
of
these
translations
ensewing
,
to
present
you
with
,
as
a
pledge
of
my
loyaltie
and
testimonie
of
the
duetiful
zeale
that
I
beare
yon
.
The
first
thing
that
shall
heerein
bee
offered
to
your
view
,
is
a
moste
excellent
Epistle
,
written
first
in
Italian
by
Maister
Clodius
Ptholomoeus
,
which
according
vnto
my
simple
skill
,
I
haue
conuerted
into
English
,
although
not
with
suche
eloquence
as
some
other
might
(
peradueuture
)
haue
done
it
:
yet
I
trust
with
suche
diligence
that
yee
shall
finde
the
intent
of
the
Authour
sufficiently
explaned
.
Hee
made
it
for
the
comforting
of
an
acquaintaunce
of
his
,
who
beyng
fallen
into
pouerty
,
did
beare
it
very
impaciently
,
wherein
he
hath
discharged
the
duety
of
a
friend
,
so
faithfully
,
that
no
man
can
say
so
much
in
the
commendation
of
it
,
but
that
it
will
deserue
a
greate
deale
more
.
An●
what
indifferent
iudgement
,
it
shall
seeme
too
wante
of
the
prayse
that
I
geue
it
,
shall
appeare
to
come
to
passe
through
the
imperfection
of
the
Translator
,
and
not
any
default
of
the
Authour
,
wohse
abilitie
,
if
it
shall
not
in
all
poyntes
answeare
to
the
willingnesse
of
his
mynde
,
meriteth
the
rather
too
bee
pardoned
in
that
he
hath
done
his
goodwil
.
Next
vnto
this
Epistle
followeth
another
of
the
same
mans
composition
,
which
for
the
occasion
,
wherevppon
it
was
made
,
is
not
inferiour
to
the
first
.
For
the
golden
examples
and
diuine
sentences
that
are
cowched
in
them
,
I
christened
this
discourse
by
the
name
of
A
Comfortable
Recreation
,
nothing
doubting
but
that
whosoeuer
shall
peruse
it
with
aduised
consideration
,
will
acknowledge
that
what
the
Title
doeth
professe
in
shewe
,
the
treatise
will
performe
in
substance
.
As
the
ylnesse
of
my
manner
of
handeling
of
it
was
as
it
were
a
bridle
to
holde
me
backe
from
geuing
my
consent
that
it
shoulde
come
foorth
,
so
the
goodnesse
of
the
matter
contayned
in
it
,
serued
me
as
a
spurre
to
pricke
me
forwardes
to
yeelde
to
theyr
entreaties
that
craued
to
haue
it
published
.
Such
other
french
and
Italian
toyes
as
I
haue
translated
,
and
added
heerevnto
(
if
I
flatter
not
my selfe
ouermuch
in
myne
owne
follies
)
are
suche
as
will
bring
more
delight
then
disliking
to
the
perusers
of
them
.
I
am
to
craue
pardon
for
my
presumption
in
dedicating
them
to
your
woorshippe
,
which
I
haue
done
,
in
that
passing
vnder
the
shadowe
of
your
protection
,
they
shall
of
a
number
that
know
you
,
be
receaued
with
the
greater
fauour
.
Thus
hoping
that
my
welmeaning
&
willing
endeuour
shal
be
constred
in
the
best
parte
,
remayning
most
thankefull
to
your
worship
,
for
your
benefits
bestowed
on
mee
,
I
put
an
end
to
my
rud
preface
,
wishing
vnto
&
you
my
mistres
,
with
your
little
ones
,
and
all
other
your
welwillers
,
many
yeeres
of
prosperities
.
With
humble
and
heartie
intercession
vnto
God
,
that
as
yee
haue
already
planted
a
good
and
lawdable
beginning
amongst
your
neighbours
,
and
liue
in
credit
in
your
countrey
,
with
the
loue
and
good
liking
of
as
many
as
know
you
,
that
so
yee
may
grow
and
goe
forwardes
with
dayly
encrease
of
worshippe
,
vntill
it
shal
be
his
good
pleasure
,
that
yee
shall
exchaunge
this
earthly
mansion
,
for
a
heauenly
habitation
.
Your
seruaunt
Humfrey
Gifford
.
To
the
Reader
.
CVrteous
and
friendly
Reader
,
being
desirous
to
content
many
,
and
not
giue
occasion
of
offence
to
any
,
I
haue
suffered
the
importunacie
of
som
my
welwillers
to
preuayle
so
far
with
me
,
that
I
haue
yeelded
them
my
consent
for
the
publishing
of
this
Treatise
,
not
being
ignorant
vnto
what
hazard
of
reproch
they
oppose
themselues
,
that
permit
their
doings
to
be
layde
open
to
the
view
of
a
multitude
.
For
as
the
better
sort
will
pronounce
their
oppinions
of
it
,
answerable
to
the
veritie
of
the
substaunce
,
that
shal
be
in
the
workes
contained
:
so
the
greater
sorte
doe
commonly
giue
their
verdit
according
to
the
vanitie
of
the
surmises
that
shall
by
them
be
conceaued
:
often
kindling
a
kinde
of
mislike
with
the
matter
,
for
some
secrete
malice
that
they
beare
to
the
man
:
And
more
oftener
for
a
resolute
and
setled
determination
that
they
haue
grounded
in
them
,
neuer
to
like
well
of
any
thing
,
vnlesse
it
meete
iumpewtth
their
own
doting
and
peeuish
imaginations
,
or
be
some
pigge
of
their
proper
farrowing
:
being
in
this
poynt
not
vnlike
the
crow
,
who
alwaies
thinks
her
owne
byrdes
fayrest
.
But
dayly
examples
teach
vs
,
that
they
which
vomitte
forth
the
poysoned
rancour
of
their
malicious
stomackes
,
against
the
lawdable
attemptes
of
others
:
most
,
are
such
as
of
themselues
can
doe
least
:
who
neither
cary
a
minde
to
vndertake
any
commendable
exercise
themselues
,
nor
haue
a
meaning
to
permit
others
that
would
,
to
performe
it
without
their
venomous
backbyting
.
If
comparisons
were
not
odious
,
I
woulde
heere
liken
all
such
whelpes
of
Zoilus
,
to
that
crabbed
and
canckerly
naturde
curre
,
which
being
layde
vpon
a
bottle
of
hey
,
would
neither
feede
of
it
himself
,
(
being
meat
contrary
to
his
complection
)
nor
suffer
the
poore
hungerstarued
beastes
to
approch
neere
it
quietly
:
but
would
lye
still
snapping
and
snarling
at
them
.
But
to
omitte
these
preambulations
,
and
come
to
the
purpose
,
I
tell
thee
(
gentle
Reader
)
if
thou
wilt
vouchsafe
the
ouerlooking
of
this
comfortable
recreation
,
with
a
mind
to
profit
,
thou
maist
reape
benefit
,
and
be
greatly
bettered
by
the
reading
of
it
.
For
the
brydling
and
keeping
vnder
of
our
disordinate
affections
:
for
the
restrayning
and
contayning
of
our
desires
within
the
compasse
of
a
contented
meane
:
For
the
vse
and
abuse
of
riches
,
and
for
the
gayning
and
obtayning
of
the
true
and
perfect
tranquilitie
of
minde
,
one
may
reade
much
,
and
yet
not
finde
it
more
pithily
and
substantially
sette
downe
,
then
in
these
Epistles
following
:
And
especially
in
the
first
,
where
thou
shalt
meete
with
such
plentie
of
sweete
and
comfortable
consolations
,
collected
out
of
the
●owelles
of
the
scripture
,
and
applyed
so
aptly
,
as
will
mooue
them
,
if
thou
haue
neuer
so
little
tast
or
feeling
in
them
of
God
,
or
godlynesse
,
to
minde
thy
creator
,
and
be
thankefull
vnto
him
for
his
benefits
.
And
my
hope
is
,
that
the
goodnesse
and
excellencie
of
the
matter
shall
so
rauish
thy
senses
that
my
imperfections
in
the
translating
of
them
,
shall
be
past
ouer
by
thee
vnespied
.
Neuertheles
if
either
in
the
edition
of
this
,
or
other
my
trifles
,
any
thing
shal
chaunce
to
escape
mee
,
which
in
thy
vnpartial
opinion
shal
seeme
vnfitting
,
I
will
most
willingly
submit
my selfe
to
the
censure
of
thy
iudgement
,
&
vppon
a●monition
amende
the
fault
by
repentance
,
yeelding
thee
thankes
for
thy
friendlinesse
,
answerable
to
the
minde
and
good
meaning
that
I
shal
see
thee
to
aduertise
me
of
it
.
●ut
if
I
shal
perceaue
thee
to
speake
it
,
more
of
malice
to
reprehend
mee
,
then
of
meaning
to
amende
me
,
it
wil
so
discomfort
and
discorage
me
,
and
take
downe
myne
edge
in
such
sort
,
that
I
doubt
,
I
shal
very
hardly
be
brought
heereafter
to
repose
confidence
againe
in
thy
courtesie
.
Yet
if
thou
bee
learned
,
and
wilt
tel
me
of
my
faults
louingly
,
spare
not
,
I
wil
take
it
most
thankfully
:
also
if
thou
be
one
of
Momus
mates
,
and
dost
raile
at
my
doings
spytefullie
Icare
not
,
I
will
brooke
it
most
patiently
,
accounting
it
no
lesse
commendation
to
bee
ill
spoken
of
,
by
one
that
is
ignoraunt
and
foolish
,
then
to
be
well
spoken
of
,
by
one
that
is
skilfull
and
wise
.
Thus
we
should
doe
,
and
thus
(
would
to
God
)
we
could
doe
:
but
as
it
is
most
easie
to
professe
patience
in
words
when
our
estate
is
in
quiet
:
so
is
it
very
difficulte
to
expresse
it
in
deedes
,
when
our
affections
are
distempered
.
Such
as
take
mens
purses
from
them
vndesired
,
passe
often
by
the
sentence
of
a
cord
,
and
shall
such
as
robbe
men
of
their
good
names
vndeserued
,
be
suffered
to
escape
scotfree
?
This
may
be
set
downe
for
a
rule
that
neuer
fayles
:
that
as
many
men
would
be
glad
to
be
better
thought
of
,
then
his
dealings
shall
deserue
:
so
any
man
would
be
loth
to
be
worse
thought
of
,
then
his
doinges
shall
demerit
.
For
to
be
defrauded
of
deserued
prayse
,
and
pursued
with
vndeserued
reproch
,
may
well
bee
accounted
a
double
iniurie
.
To
conclude
(
gentle
Reader
)
I
haue
bin
so
charie
in
the
choyce
of
the
things
contained
in
this
pamphlet
,
that
thou
mayst
finde
many
thinges
heerein
to
delight
thee
,
and
not
any
thing
to
dispight
thee
.
If
thou
shalt
take
pleasure
,
or
gaine
profit
by
the
reading
of
them
:
be
thankfull
to
the
authors
,
and
vouchsafe
to
thinke
well
of
the
translator
,
who
when
he
would
thee
worst
,
wisheth
thee
well
.
Thine
in
all
curtesie
,
Humfrey
Gifford
.
¶
An
Epistle
written
in
Italian
,
by
Maister
Claudius
Ptholomoeus
,
for
the
comforting
of
his
very
louing
and
learned
friend
,
Maister
Dionysius
,
beeing
fallen
into
pouerty
,
and
englished
by
H.
G.
YEe
should
haue
done
me
a
great
pleasure
,
if
(
as
I
requested
you
)
yée
had
come
and
remained
with
mée
at
my
house
this
Sommer
;
where
,
farre
from
the
rumors
of
the
city
,
amiddest
the
delectable
woods
,
yée
shoulde
haue
auoyded
a
great
part
of
these
gréefes
,
with
which
yee
now
are
molested
;
and
aboue
al
,
yée
should
not
so
sharply
haue
felt
the
bitinges
of
pouerty
,
which
in
your
last
letter
,
yée
so
cruelly
complayne
of
.
For
it
is
a
thing
most
manifest
(
as
S.
Hierome
sayth
very
well
)
that
our
eyes
are
the
chiefe
cause
,
that
pouerty
seemeth
so
sharpe
and
bitter
vnto
vs
.
Take
away
the
sight
of
riches
,
by
and
by
pouerty
séemeth
light
vnto
me
.
When
I
sée
not
the
pompes
,
the
treasures
,
the
iewels
,
the
riche
attire
,
delicious
tables
,
sumptuous
pallaces
,
great
traynes
of
seruants
in
others
;
I
neyther
search
for
them
,
nor
couet
after
them
,
neyther
am
I
carefull
for
being
without
them
.
But
assoone
as
these
wilde
beastes
are
once
presented
before
my
eyes
,
straightwayes
with
theyr
false
and
deceaueable
beauty
,
like
enchauntresses
,
they
lyme
my
desire
,
which
done
(
like
infernall
furies
)
they
torment
it
with
a
thousand
anoyes
;
by
the
meanes
whereof
,
all
quiet
&
tranquillity
is
banished
from
the
mind
of
man
;
in
place
wherof
,
vnpleasant
cogitations
,
broken
sléepes
,
froward
hatred
,
blinde
enuy
,
seruile
feare
,
doubtfull
hope
,
and
diuers
other
their
cruell
companions
,
and
copesmates
,
raigne
,
and
gouerne
our
affections
.
Truely
,
I
my selfe
,
who
do
now
thinke
by
long
experience
,
and
sound
iudgement
of
mind
,
to
be
somwhat
stablished
,
and
confirmed
in
temperate
desires
;
when
sometimes
I
am
conuersant
(
I
say
)
amongst
the
pompes
of
the
citie
,
I
séeme
to
féele
certayne
waters
of
vayne
appetites
to
bubble
vp
within
me
,
which
might
peraduenture
breed
some
gréeuous
infirmity
in
my
mynde
,
if
I
did
not
sodainly
kill
&
kéepe
them
downe
with
the
tempest
of
moderation
:
&
doubtlesse
as
oft
as
I
make
repayre
into
these
places
,
I
séeme
to
be
carried
on
a
calme
Sea
,
with
a
moderate
winde
,
without
swelling
of
the
waues
,
or
danger
of
any
tempest
.
Yée
might
(
I
say
)
haue
done
me
a
most
acceptable
pleasure
,
if
yee
had
come
vnto
me
,
to
haue
auoyded
the
dangers
&
annoyances
of
pouerty
amongst
these
solitary
woods
,
&
yée
should
also
haue
deliuered
me
of
a
great
trouble
in
writing
vnto
you
.
For
that
here
the
gréen
grasse
,
the
floorishing
trées
,
the
crystal
streames
the
chirping
birdes
,
the
harmelesse
beasts
,
the
open
ayre
,
the
séeing
of
euery
thing
to
reioyce
at
the
giftes
of
nature
,
would
haue
byn
better
maisters
for
the
instructing
of
you
,
then
all
the
schooles
of
Philosophers
in
Athens
.
Or
if
this
had
not
byn
sufficient
,
yet
had
it
béen
more
easy
for
me
to
haue
tolde
you
what
was
conuenient
in
walking
,
and
(
as
it
were
)
sporting
with
you
,
(
then
béeing
distant
)
I
can
nowe
doe
by
writing
.
But
a
friend
is
neuer
to
be
abandoned
,
rather
wée
shoulde
endeuour
to
search
out
euery
remedy
,
for
his
health
;
to
vndertake
any
trauell
;
and
to
put
our selues
betwixt
euery
danger
,
for
his
safety
.
Although
I
beléeue
,
yée
demaund
consolation
of
me
,
not
for
that
yée
want
it
in
your selfe
,
I
knowing
you
to
be
both
wise
&
temperate
;
but
for
that
(
as
it
comes
too
passe
)
yée
estéeme
the
consolation
geuen
by
a
déere
friend
,
to
be
more
pleasant
than
your
owne
.
For
in
this
yée
taste
but
your selfe
onely
:
in
the
other
yee
shall
participate
both
of
the
fruite
of
your selfe
,
and
of
your
friend
.
I
say
vnto
you
(
Maister
Dionysius
)
that
first
,
I
know
not
,
whether
to
be
poore
or
rich
,
be
a
thing
that
hath
his
foundation
in
nature
,
or
is
altogether
placed
in
the
opinion
of
men
.
But
this
I
cléerely
know
,
the
pouerty
is
an
euil
or
affection
,
which
men
without
necessity
,
haue
by
opinion
onely
placed
amongest
the
euils
,
&
affections
,
which
nature
hath
bestowed
on
vs
;
&
haue
made
the
same
of
her
,
as
(
Menander
saith
)
they
haue
done
of
ambition
,
of
the
iniury
of
words
;
of
vnlucky
dreames
;
of
wonders
,
&
many
other
things
,
which
not
being
giuen
vs
by
nature
for
any
euill
at
al
;
we
,
neuertheles
through
our
foolish
imagination
,
account
them
as
a
disgrace
that
not
a
litle
tormenteth
vs
.
Through
which
it
comes
to
passe
,
that
man
is
more
vnfortunate
,
then
any
other
liuing
creature
whatsoeuer
.
Who
is
he
liuing
according
to
the
vse
of
men
nowadayes
,
seing
himself
to
fal
out
of
fauor
with
his
maister
,
had
not
rather
haue
ten
burning
feuers
,
then
lose
this
his
fauor
?
wheras
if
he
had
sound
iudgement
,
&
would
not
suffer
himselfe
to
be
corrupted
,
with
false
imagination
,
he
ought
rather
to
choose
the
disfauour
of
foure
maisters
,
then
to
suffer
one
onely
feuer
;
for
that
the
first
,
is
an
euil
springing
onely
of
opinion
,
&
this
is
grounded
&
founded
in
nature
it self
.
So
likewise
semeth
it
vnto
me
of
pouerty
,
that
if
it
be
an
euill
(
which
I
beleue
not
)
it
taketh
his
original
onely
of
the
fantasies
,
&
thoughts
of
men
of
weak
understanding
,
hauing
no
foundation
at
all
in
nature
.
And
therfore
Iesus
Christ
our
sauiour
most
prudently
&
diuinely
conforted
,
not
only
his
disciples
,
but
al
the
poore
also
,
with
this
goodly
&
most
beautiful
example
of
two
sparowes
.
Is
not
man
(
saith
Christ
)
of
greater
price
then
twoo
sparowes
?
hath
not
God
greater
regard
of
him
,
then
of
these
litle
byrds
?
&
yet
they
want
nothing
that
is
néedful
for
theyr
sustenance
.
Shal
any
thing
be
wanting
them
vnto
men
with
are
had
in
greater
estimation
,
both
with
God
&
nature
?
And
verily
,
it
is
not
to
be
doubted
but
that
pouerty
&
riches
sprang
first
of
the
diuision
of
dominions
;
being
brought
in
rather
by
the
gréedines
&
ambition
of
men
,
then
by
any
order
of
nature
.
O
blessed
be
yée
litle
beasts
;
you
féele
not
at
al
,
those
pearcings
,
&
priuy
bytings
of
pouerty
,
but
liue
freely
and
ioyfully
in
the
pure
law
of
nature
,
without
encombring
your selues
,
with
eyther
riches
or
pouerty
.
Let
pouerty
bée
what
shée
will
,
I
knowe
not
wherefore
wée
shoulde
accounte
of
her
,
when
as
she
is
not
of
the
things
that
are
within
vs
,
but
reckoned
in
the
number
of
those
that
are
without
vs
.
For
man
is
made
and
framed
of
soule
and
body
onely
,
and
it
is
not
necessary
to
the
composition
of
him
,
that
there
shoulde
appertayne
a
soule
,
a
body
,
and
riches
.
Now
if
pouerty
be
not
of
the
thinges
within
vs
,
but
without
vs
,
what
euil
(
I
pray
you
)
can
shée
doe
vs
?
Surely
it
must
be
muche
lesse
,
then
that
which
offendeth
the
parts
of
which
we
are
truely
composed
sicknesse
,
and
diseases
make
death
seeme
vnto
vs
more
bitter
then
gall
;
likewise
ignorance
,
dulnesse
,
enuie
,
sinne
,
and
wickednesse
corrupt
the
beauty
of
our
soules
:
of
these
in
parte
we
are
framed
.
But
what
hath
pouerty
to
doe
with
vs
?
shée
hath
respect
(
as
hath
béene
sayde
)
to
the
thinges
without
vs
,
and
shoulde
not
anoy
vs
,
if
we
(
enemies
to
our
owne
selues
)
tooke
not
her
dartes
in
our
handes
,
and
with
them
most
bitterly
pearced
our
owne
soules
.
But
I
say
vnto
you
farther
,
that
the
restlesse
griefe
,
the
lothsome
irkesomnesse
,
and
cruell
prickinges
that
pouerty
procureth
,
spring
all
from
one
roote
:
which
is
,
the
desire
of
superfluous
things
.
Take
away
the
desire
of
those
thinges
that
are
néedelesse
,
and
all
this
troublesome
Sea
will
presently
become
quiet
,
and
calme
.
Of
a
troth
,
that
sentence
manifested
by
the
Philosophers
,
celebrated
of
the
sages
,
&
allowed
by
long
experience
(
that
nature
is
contented
with
very
fewe
thinges
)
is
most
true
Whervp●̄
Cleanthus
gaue
vnto
men
this
worthy
lesson
.
Wilt
thou
(
said
Cleanthus
)
be
quickly
rich
?
be
thou
then
poore
of
desires
.
I
pray
thée
tell
me
how
néedful
is
it
,
from
defending
one
from
the
cold
,
to
be
clothed
in
veluet
,
purple
or
gold
,
&
to
be
alwaies
in
sundry
fashions
?
These
garments
bring
no
helpe
vnto
nature
,
but
increase
the
smoke
of
our
ambition
;
neither
yet
can
we
euer
be
satisfied
:
wherby
we
gayne
no
other
thing
,
but
to
make
our
vanities
,
&
the
blind
cloude
of
our
desires
more
apparant
.
What
necessity
is
there
for
the
féeding
of
our
body
&
sustentation
of
our
life
,
to
haue
our
tables
loded
with
a
hundred
diuers
meates
:
al
placed
in
vessels
of
siluer
&
gold
?
First
this
is
certaine
,
that
if
nature
desire
a
measurable
quantity
of
meate
for
her
sustenance
;
the
which
is
taken
more
,
is
to
the
destroying
&
corrupting
both
of
nature
&
life
,
wherby
it
was
wel
&
truely
spoken
,
that
many
more
are
slain
by
gluttony
,
then
by
the
sword
.
And
it
is
dayly
séene
,
that
many
of
them
,
at
whome
the
foolish
commonaltie
so
greatly
woonder
,
in
the
end
are
paide
home
with
a
deserued
punishment
for
their
ambitious
gluttonie
:
Some
replenishing
themselues
with
rhewmes
,
others
gaining
to
themselues
the
gout
:
other
some
wasting
and
consuming
their
liuer
,
&
causing
their
sinewes
to
shrink
:
others
dying
miserably
long
before
their
time
.
It
is
manifest
also
,
that
with
their
sundry
kindes
of
sauces
they
haue
brought
it
so
to
passe
,
that
nothing
sauoureth
of
it selfe
;
and
that
they
very
seldome
eate
with
appetite
,
or
delight
.
O
how
true
is
that
notable
sentence
,
and
how
well
proued
at
all
times
;
That
hunger
is
the
best
sawce
of
all
others
,
which
makes
all
meates
sauerie
and
delightfull
!
The
example
of
Darius
is
no
lesse
true
then
common
;
who
in
his
flight
after
a
battaile
being
wearied
,
and
drinking
a
quantitie
of
muddy
water
,
did
sweare
,
that
in
all
his
life
time
,
hée
neuer
dranke
more
pleasauntly
:
Beholde
therfore
;
the
poore
men
are
most
rich
of
those
things
,
of
which
the
rich
(
through
their
blinde
vnsatiablenes
)
are
most
poore
.
Finally
it
is
manifest
,
that
this
superfluous
féeding
is
an
example
of
crueltie
:
First
,
against
themselues
,
that
vse
it
:
for
because
(
as
it
is
said
)
many
are
diseased
,
many
killed
,
and
many
brought
to
miserie
:
)
Next
,
against
a
number
of
the
poore
,
who
(
if
it
were
well
séene
vnto
)
might
bée
relieued
temperately
with
that
which
these
consume
immoderately
.
How
much
better
should
they
doe
,
&
what
more
praise
might
they
deserue
,
both
of
God
&
the
world
,
if
(
restraining
their
diet
to
an
honest
&
temperat
moderation
)
al
that
which
is
vainly
spent
,
were
by
them
conuerted
into
some
better
vse
,
either
in
marrying
some
maides
,
or
in
giuing
exhibition
to
yong
men
addicted
to
studie
,
or
in
vsing
any
other
bountifull
curtesie
.
Truely
,
I
am
not
of
opinion
,
that
for
being
rich
they
had
néede
to
eat
more
:
neither
that
their
welth
doubling
they
should
redouble
their
eating
&
drinking
;
&
that
they
encreasing
these
;
should
encrease
more
also
.
To
procéed
farther
in
the
matter
,
I
say
what
néede
is
there
,
for
the
kéeping
vs
from
the
raine
,
the
wind
,
and
the
sunne
,
to
dwel
in
sumptuous
pallaces
,
replenished
with
most
costly
ornaments
,
as
though
a
little
cottage
might
not
bée
sufficient
to
fence
and
defend
vs
from
such
impressions
,
in
which
also
,
for
the
most
part
,
more
rest
and
safetie
is
found
,
then
in
the
other
.
What
a
fondnesse
?
yea
,
what
a
monstrous
appetite
was
it
of
Nero
,
when
that
of
all
the
mount
Celio
and
more
,
hée
made
but
one
onely
house
,
through
which
it
was
doubted
,
least
that
therein
hée
would
haue
swallowed
vp
all
Rome
:
and
hée
was
not
ashamed
to
say
,
that
now
hée
began
to
lyue
,
as
was
conuenient
for
men
?
It
pleaseth
mée
well
,
that
sumptuous
and
stately
buildinges
bée
séene
in
the
world
,
not
for
any
néede
and
tranquilitie
of
man
,
but
for
the
bewtifying
,
and
setting
out
of
Cities
,
and
for
the
demonstration
of
the
wonderfulnes
and
excellencie
of
artes
.
But
hée
that
is
without
them
,
so
that
hée
haue
some
cotage
to
couer
himselfe
therwith
,
ought
not
to
bée
troubled
for
not
hauing
of
them
.
What
shal
wée
say
of
the
quiet
bed
for
the
wearied
members
?
is
it
requisite
that
it
bée
adorned
with
golde
and
precious
stones
?
as
the
lasciuious
Emperours
did
often
vse
to
doe
in
times
past
at
Rome
?
or
is
it
sufficient
that
it
bée
of
leaues
,
as
was
vsed
in
the
first
world
?
though
but
homely
,
yet
more
naturall
?
True
it
is
,
that
Laertes
had
in
his
house
none
other
but
one
olde
woman
,
which
brought
him
his
meate
and
drinke
,
who
slept
commonly
on
the
ground
,
on
a
mattresse
made
of
leaues
.
I
wil
not
héere
enter
into
the
discourse
,
what
is
pertinent
to
the
vse
of
mans
lyfe
,
wher●
ambition
and
vanitie
is
out
of
measure
augmented
beyond
that
which
the
necessitie
of
Nature
doeth
require
;
and
with
this
encreasing
,
hath
brought
vnto
mortall
creatures
many
troubles
,
diuers
displeasures
,
&
infinite
vexations
,
springing
onely
of
a
foolish
,
nay
rather
frantike
,
and
raging
appetite
of
superfluitie
.
Onely
thus
much
I
say
vnto
you
,
that
vnto
a
wise
man
,
who
will
not
suffer
himself
to
bée
caryed
away
,
with
false
resemblances
,
or
fained
apparances
,
it
sufficeth
that
he
haue
wherewith
to
defend
himselfe
from
hunger
and
thirst
;
and
from
the
colde
and
heate
:
so
that
the
Philosopher
Epictetus
,
with
a
gallant
similitude
did
say
very
well
.
As
the
foote
is
the
measure
of
the
shooe
:
so
the
measure
of
hauing
is
the
body
of
the
man
it selfe
;
if
thou
desire
to
be
stayed
héerein
,
a
moderation
must
be
obserued
in
thy
desires
,
beyonde
the
which
if
thou
passe
,
thou
must
of
necessitie
runne
headlong
into
infinite
inconueniences
.
And
to
bring
this
to
passe
,
I
thinke
it
not
necessary
to
haue
the
substaunce
of
Craesus
,
or
Lucullus
;
but
very
few
thinges
may
suffice
for
the
attaining
of
it
,
in
such
sorte
that
almost
euery
one
may
attain
vnto
it
with
little
difficultie
,
if
they
would
but
brydle
and
restrain
their
desires
within
the
limits
of
an
honest
moderation
.
Verily
,
when
I
way
and
ponder
these
thinges
with
my selfe
,
that
diuine
sentence
of
Seneca
,
séemeth
vnto
me
to
bee
worthily
spoken
,
who
with
a
true
lesson
warneth
vs
,
saying
,
If
ye
haue
respect
vnto
that
,
wherewith
Nature
is
suffised
,
yee
shall
neuer
be
poore
:
if
ye
looke
vnto
that
which
opinion
craueth
,
ye
shall
neuer
be
rich
.
O
most
golden
sentence
,
wherein
the
greatest
parte
of
the
trauayle
and
repose
of
man
con●isteth
!
Who
is
he
,
that
hauing
respect
only
to
the
necessities
of
Nature
,
can
euer
be
poore
?
Againe
,
who
is
he
that
folowing
the
appetite
of
vain
things
,
&
the
desire
of
superfluities
that
,
can
euer
be
rich
?
This
man
possessing
a
bewtiful
house●d
sireth
a
village
;
hauing
obtained
that
,
he
wold
haue
a
stock
and
furniture
for
them
both
:
This
being
graunted
,
he
craueth
great
store
of
mony
for
diuers
vses
,
&
necessities
;
also
this
money
being
gotten
,
he
hath
a
desire
to
be
Lord
ouer
castles
,
and
to
haue
vassailes
vnder
him
:
hauing
brought
this
also
to
passe
,
he
aspireth
to
be
a
Marquesse
,
next
a
Duk
,
then
a
King
,
farther
,
an
Emperour
;
and
in
the
end
he
would
bee
Lord
of
all
the
world
:
yet
this
would
not
satisfie
his
greedy
appetite
:
for
he
would
(
with
Alexander
the
great
)
be
Lord
of
al
the
worlds
of
Anaxagoras
,
in
such
sort
,
that
he
that
possesseth
most
,
is
farthest
from
his
end
:
for
that
greater
riches
engender
greater
desires
.
This
cruell
and
vnmeasurable
lust
of
hauing
,
is
so
great
,
and
vnsatiable
.
I
would
gladly
learne
when
it
may
bée
saide
,
that
a
man
hath
sufficient
;
when
it
may
bée
saide
,
that
hée
is
rich
.
Marcus
Crassus
was
wont
to
say
,
that
no
man
was
rich
,
vnlesse
with
his
yearely
reuenewes
hée
could
kéepe
and
maintaine
an
army
.
What
fondnesse
?
what
vnsatiablenesse
is
this
?
Truly
Aglaius
Profidius
did
not
possesse
so
much
,
but
had
only
one
litle
plot
of
ground
,
which
he
manured
with
his
owne
handes
:
neuer
the
lesse
hée
was
iudged
by
the
Oracle
to
bée
most
happy
of
all
men
.
But
shall
I
now
declare
vnto
you
how
many
men
in
extreame
pouertie
haue
liued
ioyfully
and
contentedly
,
being
had
in
estimation
,
and
honoured
greatly
?
My
web
should
bée
ouerlong
,
if
I
should
héere
recount
them
all
,
but
these
shall
suffise
.
Amonst
the
Grecians
Aristides
,
Phocion
,
Epaminondus
,
Pelopidus
the
Thebane
,
Lampsacus
the
Atheniensen
,
Socrates
and
Efialtus
were
most
poore
,
yet
were
they
all
wise
and
iust
men
,
and
well
estéemed
in
the
world
.
Also
of
the
Latines
there
are
many
notable
examples
:
but
this
of
Curius
and
Fabritius
shall
serue
for
all
,
of
whome
the
one
would
rather
commaund
him
that
possessed
golde
,
then
possesse
it
himselfe
:
The
other
with
a
bolde
courage
refused
many
giftes
that
the
Samnites
did
profer
him
.
But
wherof
sprange
this
temperaunce
in
them
?
Without
doubt
no
other
where
,
but
that
they
had
clypped
the
wings
to
the
desire
of
superfluous
things
.
Of
a
troth
this
distinction
of
the
Philosophers
is
most
true
;
that
our
appetite
is
of
two
sortes
;
the
one
measured
,
and
hauing
end
;
the
other
infinite
,
and
without
end
.
Al
those
that
desire
riches
,
onely
for
the
loue
that
they
beare
vnto
them
,
haue
neuer
any
end
in
their
desires
:
but
like
him
that
hath
the
dropsie
,
the
more
they
possesse
,
the
more
alwaies
they
couet
:
but
they
that
temperately
search
after
riches
,
not
for
méere
loue
they
beare
towardes
them
,
but
to
employ
them
to
some
necessary
and
determinate
vse
,
finde
some
end
,
and
repose
in
their
desires
.
For
so
much
they
ought
and
commonly
doe
desire
,
as
is
néedefull
for
that
ende
and
vse
,
for
which
they
did
desire
it
.
But
diuers
entangle
themselues
,
proposing
hurtfull
and
vnprofitable
endes
,
at
the
least
wise
vnnecessary
.
I
therefore
haue
made
choyce
of
one
chiefly
,
being
both
pure
and
natural
:
which
is
the
conseruation
of
our selues
,
and
those
that
are
begotten
of
vs
:
all
other
endes
are
corrupt
,
full
of
pride
and
ambition
,
and
vnnaturall
.
O
that
it
pleased
God
,
that
men
might
desire
riches
to
no
other
vse
,
but
for
that
onely
,
which
they
indéed
stand
in
néed
of
.
Doubtles
,
great
rumours
,
many
lamentations
,
infinite
sorowes
should
bée
quieted
,
which
for
the
want
of
these
enticing
riches
,
are
dayly
made
amongst
men
.
But
know
yée
wherefore
hée
is
alwayes
pensiue
,
why
hee
séemeth
continually
to
bée
poore
,
and
what
the
cause
is
,
that
hée
is
neuer
contented
with
his
estate
?
shall
I
tell
you
the
onely
occasion
hereof
?
it
procéedes
of
no
other
cause
,
but
that
hée
alwayes
lookes
before
him
,
fixing
his
eie
on
him
that
is
more
rich
,
and
more
mightie
then
himself
,
&
either
prickt
forward
by
enuie
,
or
drawne
vnto
it
by
couetousnesse
,
hée
would
not
only
reach
and
ariue
vnto
the
same
,
but
also
passe
farther
:
and
they
neuer
looke
backe
,
or
cast
their
eies
on
the
poore
,
which
are
(
as
it
were
)
behinde
them
,
but
rather
hold
them
in
a
continuall
contempt
:
and
there
are
very
few
that
can
,
or
know
how
to
moderate
themselues
,
from
these
vntemperate
disorders
.
Of
a
treath
there
are
many
(
yea
very
many
)
that
bitterly
complaine
of
pouertie
:
who
,
if
the
whole
world
were
deuided
into
equall
partes
,
would
not
haue
so
much
vnto
their
shares
,
as
they
now
possesse
.
I
verily
beléeue
,
that
if
all
the
men
and
women
were
placed
on
the
one
side
,
and
all
the
riches
of
the
world
on
the
other
,
and
that
his
part
were
equally
deuided
vnto
euery
one
(
as
it
is
sayde
Lycurgus
did
in
Sparta
)
it
should
come
to
passe
,
that
many
that
now
cry
out
,
of
pouertie
,
should
apparantly
sée
,
that
they
were
ouer
rich
,
and
had
more
then
their
parts
.
Amongst
which
number
,
I
thinke
my selfe
should
bée
one
,
which
now
account
my selfe
to
bée
poore
,
and
so
peraduenture
,
would
you
also
:
so
that
if
yée
respect
this
honest
and
measured
end
,
it
may
bée
that
this
your
pouertie
will
not
make
you
seeme
to
bée
so
poore
,
as
yée
estéemed
your selfe
to
be
,
nor
bring
you
so
great
affliction
,
finding
it
farre
lesse
then
yée
déemed
it
to
bée
.
But
you
will
say
peraduenture
(
and
I
denie
it
not
)
that
there
are
a
great
many
rich
,
which
féele
pleasure
,
contentment
,
and
honour
by
them
:
whereas
I
by
my
pouertie
receiue
sorowe
,
displeasure
,
and
shame
.
What
complaintes
are
those
?
Shouldest
thou
dispayre
,
for
not
hauing
that
which
other
men
enioy
?
Wherefore
then
doe
these
rich
men
(
which
bring
you
in
this
estate
)
dispayre
,
seeing
others
aboue
them
to
bée
Dukes
,
Princes
,
Kinges
and
Emperours
?
Why
doe
not
many
,
that
delight
in
eating
and
drinking
hange
themselues
,
for
not
being
able
to
drinke
so
much
as
Trigungius
did
with
the
Romaines
;
or
because
they
cannot
deuoure
a
whole
table
of
meate
,
as
Catellactus
hath
done
in
our
time
?
and
to
bring
a
more
true
and
liuely
example
,
why
are
not
all
men
afflicted
,
and
as
it
were
brought
into
dispayre
,
because
they
haue
not
the
strength
and
force
of
a
Lion
;
the
sight
of
an
Eagle
;
the
swiftnes
of
a
Tyger
;
the
senting
of
a
Dogge
;
the
length
of
the
life
of
a
Harte
,
and
in
the
end
,
the
flyeing
of
byrdes
.
It
is
not
néedefull
to
looke
to
that
which
others
haue
,
but
to
that
which
is
conuenient
for
our
estates
and
callings
.
And
heerein
(
according
to
euery
mans
degrée
)
to
repose
our
chiefe
contentment
and
felicitie
.
But
perhappes
,
you
will
say
that
it
is
not
requisite
to
make
such
an
arithmeticall
diuision
of
the
goods
of
Fortune
,
but
rather
that
it
were
more
conuenient
to
maken
a
Geometrical
,
not
according
to
the
number
,
but
the
desart
.
It
were
well
sayde
.
But
who
shall
iudge
of
this
desart
?
This
,
doubtlesse
is
the
head
fountaine
and
originall
of
all
errours
.
Euery
one
doeth
déeme
,
and
iudge
better
of
himselfe
then
there
is
cause
why
.
Selfeloue
doeth
corrupt
our
iudgement
,
and
sedure
our
senses
in
such
sort
,
with
false
imaginations
that
it
presenteth
vnto
vs
,
that
in
partiall
estéeming
of
our selues
,
euery
one
suffers
himselfe
pleasauntly
to
bée
deceaued
.
Infinite
is
the
number
of
them
,
vnto
whome
it
séemeth
,
that
they
haue
deserued
a
great
deale
more
then
they
haue
:
but
there
are
very
few
of
the
other
sorte
,
that
thinke
they
haue
a
great
deale
more
then
they
haue
deserued
:
whereof
grieuous
perturbations
,
and
continuall
lamentations
,
for
the
want
of
riches
and
preferment
,
doe
afterwards
ensue
.
I
knowe
not
then
how
in
this
generall
discourse
wée
should
consider
of
the
desartes
of
euery
one
aright
,
through
which
,
all
things
might
bée
brought
into
question
and
controuersie
.
It
is
a
great
deale
better
to
ponder
by
this
Arithmetical
diuision
,
that
the
greatest
part
of
them
,
that
complaine
of
pouertie
,
shall
finde
themselues
deceaued
,
if
the
world
were
deuided
into
equall
partes
.
But
let
vs
passe
on
farther
,
if
it
please
you
;
and
let
vs
set
downe
,
with
what
iust
measure
riches
and
pouertie
ought
to
bée
measured
.
Euery
one
doeth
loue
,
honour
,
and
reuerence
riches
,
and
couet
after
them
.
Euery
one
holdeth
pouertie
in
contempt
,
despiseth
her
,
and
flyeth
from
her
.
Know
yée
wherfore
?
For
that
euery
man
onely
respecteth
the
good
,
and
commoditie
of
riches
,
neuer
forecasting
the
euils
and
discommodities
that
they
bring
with
them
.
Contrarily
,
euery
one
lookes
vnto
the
euill
,
that
is
found
to
bée
in
pouertie
,
and
there
stayeth
himselfe
;
but
none
respecteth
or
hath
regarde
to
the
good
,
and
commeditie
that
commeth
by
her
:
so
that
it
is
not
to
bée
wondered
at
,
if
(
the
eies
being
opened
to
the
good
that
riches
hath
in
them
,
and
shut
to
the
euill
)
so
many
doe
prayse
and
desire
them
.
Neither
is
it
any
meruaile
likewise
,
if
(
opening
them
to
the
euill
that
pouertie
hath
in
her
,
and
shutting
them
to
the
good
)
euery
one
despiseth
,
and
escheweth
it
.
Know
yée
then
wherof
this
procéedeth
?
surely
of
none
other
cause
,
but
the
first
apparaunce
.
For
that
riches
doeth
present
her selfe
vnto
vs
,
which
a
gladsome
and
chéerefull
countenaunce
,
bringing
with
her
a
certaine
counterfeit
bewtie
,
that
doth
dasell
our
eies
,
and
lime
our
senses
and
affections
,
with
her
enticement
:
in
such
sorte
,
that
we
are
drawne
,
and
as
it
were
brought
besids
our selues
,
with
these
couloured
enchantments
,
beléeue
that
euery
thing
of
her
is
pleasaunt
,
bewtifull
and
good
:
And
these
shaddowes
,
and
faigned
resemblances
,
wherewith
shee
is
set
out
vnto
vs
,
will
not
permit
vs
to
penetrate
into
the
naughtinesse
,
that
shée
conceales
within
her
,
nor
suffer
vs
to
sée
the
poyson
that
lyes
hidden
vnder
her
,
through
which
that
chaunceth
oftentimes
,
which
is
spoken
of
the
Marmaides
,
that
(
alluring
with
their
swéete
,
but
deceaueable
voyces
)
men
sée
not
the
great
euill
that
lurketh
vnder
them
,
and
is
prepared
for
them
.
On
the
other
side
,
pouertie
presenteth
her selfe
vnto
vs
with
a
filthy
and
horrible
countenaunce
,
in
such
sort
,
that
none
would
euer
surmise
,
that
any
good
thing
were
contained
within
her
▪
neuerthelesse
,
vnder
il
fauoured
counterfeites
,
most
bewtifull
figures
,
and
wonderfull
workes
,
both
of
arte
and
nature
are
oftentimes
comprehended
.
But
(
as
I
sayd
)
these
measures
are
not
iust
,
neyther
can
the
troth
euer
bée
boulted
out
by
them
.
It
is
not
sufficient
of
one
thing
to
open
onely
the
good
,
concealing
the
euill
;
and
of
another
,
to
lay
forth
onely
the
euill
,
not
reuealing
the
good
:
and
troth
cannot
possible
bée
descerned
from
a
doubtful
matter
,
if
a
diuision
of
the
good
and
the
euill
that
resteth
in
eyther
of
them
,
bée
not
first
made
and
sifted
out
,
and
the
substaunce
of
the
thing
after
considered
of
accordingly
.
It
being
a
most
true
and
vnfallible
principle
,
that
all
things
vnder
the
Sunne
,
are
(
I
know
not
in
what
sorte
)
entermixed
with
good
and
euill
,
so
that
nothing
is
neither
wholly
good
,
nor
wholly
euill
:
and
now
it
may
well
bée
sayde
,
that
riches
bringes
with
her
much
euill
;
and
pouertie
containeth
in
her
not
a
little
good
.
Neyther
is
it
conuenient
that
they
,
whose
pouertie
is
great
,
should
bée
left
without
an
aduocate
,
as
wée
often
sée
they
are
:
but
good
&
iust
Princes
should
sée
their
right
graunted
them
without
any
expence
.
Behold
again
the
riches
puffe
men
vp
with
a
certain
vaine
kind
of
insolencie
,
and
makes
them
become
proud
,
and
disdaineful
,
wheras
pouertie
replenisheth
them
with
humilitie
,
and
makes
them
humble
and
curteous
:
we
sée
Pallantes
the
frée
man
of
Clodius
to
bée
out
of
measure
rich
:
we
sée
him
likewise
to
be
passing
proude
,
in
such
sorte
,
that
in
a
long
season
,
he
would
not
vouchsafe
to
speake
to
any
of
his
seruantes
:
we
sée
Fabritius
to
be
most
poore
,
we
sée
him
therewith
,
very
lowlie
and
pleasant
.
But
one
example
may
suffice
for
a
thousand
,
for
wee
may
daily
reade
,
heare
,
and
see
them
.
This
first
Dowry
therefore
is
to
be
detested
,
that
riches
brings
with
her
,
in
that
it
makes
men
proude
and
insolent
;
as
that
of
pouerty
is
to
be
beloued
,
in
that
it
makes
men
humble
and
curteous
.
Riches
make
not
men
onely
to
be
puft
vp
with
pride
,
but
also
drowneth
them
in
diuers
kinds
of
voluptuous
naughtinesse
,
for
it
maketh
them
lasciuious
,
vaine
,
giuen
to
gluttonie
,
alwayes
occupied
in
earthly
delightes
,
and
wallowing
in
worldly
wantonnesse
,
and
filth
of
the
fleshe
:
for
that
being
possessors
of
great
riches
,
they
déem
it
a
priuiledge
,
and
reckon
it
in
place
of
great
game
,
that
by
the
meanes
of
them
they
may
feede
their
superfluous
appetites
and
disordinate
affections
.
Wheras
the
poore
acknowledging
his
estate
,
for
the
most
part
liues
sparingly
&
temperatelie
,
not
so
greatly
corrupted
,
nor
defiled
with
vaine
&
worldly
allurements
.
That
Plutarcke
saide
verie
wel
,
tearming
pouertie
to
be
an
abundant
temperance
,
and
a
strict
obseruance
of
the
Lawes
,
in
such
sort
that
Arcesilaus
was
accustomed
to
say
,
that
pouertie
was
sharpe
after
the
manner
of
craggie
Ithaca
,
but
yet
brought
foorth
good
sonnes
,
teaching
them
to
abstaine
and
suffer
,
and
making
them
frugal
,
concluding
that
it
was
a
notable
schoolehouse
and
open
wrastling
place
for
all
vertue
.
What
shal
I
say
more
?
Riches
make
men
become
dispisers
of
God
,
at
the
leastwise
little
acknowledging
his
power
,
and
bountie
.
For
the
rich
man
seing
himselfe
to
abound
in
wealth
,
and
encrease
in
substance
,
semeth
in
his
owne
conceite
not
to
stand
in
need
of
any
other
assistance
,
wherefore
he
verie
seldome
hath
recourse
vnto
God
,
and
seldome
prayeth
vnto
him
,
or
is
thankefull
for
his
benefites
:
but
as
it
were
,
dependeth
of
himselfe
onely
,
swelling
and
wondering
at
his
owne
wisedome
,
and
(
as
one
might
say
)
playing
the
Peacock
in
his
felicity
.
Wheras
the
poore
man
confessing
his
imbecillity
,
runneth
vnto
God
for
refuge
;
&
acknowledging
his
bounty
,
commits
himselfe
wholy
to
his
custodie
,
lauding
and
praysing
his
name
,
and
calling
him
to
his
ayde
and
assistance
.
But
riches
doe
not
onely
corrupt
the
will
;
but
together
therewith
,
are
a
hinderance
,
and
impediment
to
the
vnderstanding
:
for
these
(
for
the
most
part
)
accounting
it
ynough
to
be
rich
,
seldome
or
neuer
geue
theyr
mindes
,
to
good
and
laudable
studies
;
or
noble
and
high
contemplations
,
eyther
of
philosophy
,
or
of
any
other
science
:
but
rather
addict
theyr
whole
endeuours
,
eyther
to
some
vayn
&
friuolous
pastimes
▪
or
to
the
encrease
of
their
riches
.
Whereof
it
comes
to
passe
,
that
the
true
and
right
end
of
science
is
changed
into
a
false
,
and
counterfayte
.
For
that
the
right
vse
to
learne
science
in
déede
,
is
,
for
the
more
,
and
better
perfecting
and
ennobling
the
mind
of
man
:
But
the
common
sort
,
wrest
it
cleane
contrary
,
accounting
the
acquiring
of
substance
,
to
be
the
onely
ende
of
the
learning
of
Science
.
Through
which
the
rich
man
weaues
the
webbe
of
his
owne
woe
,
saying
in
himselfe
;
what
cause
is
there
,
that
I
shoulde
trauell
my selfe
in
studie
?
if
I
be
already
rich
,
I
am
come
to
the
end
;
what
néede
is
it
then
that
I
haue
recourse
,
eyther
to
the
beginning
or
midst
.
But
the
poore
man
,
mooued
eyther
with
the
right
or
wrong
way
,
with
great
desire
and
feruent
affection
followeth
his
studie
:
Through
which
it
hath
béene
séene
,
and
is
séene
daily
that
many
poore
men
by
learning
,
attayne
vnto
great
excellency
,
promotion
,
and
preferment
.
So
that
Taletus
the
noble
Philosopher
said
very
well
;
who
so
affirmeth
(
quoth
he
)
that
pouerty
withdraweth
a
man
from
Philosophy
,
&
riches
enflame
him
with
the
desire
of
it
,
is
deceaued
greatly
.
O
God
,
how
many
doe
we
sée
,
hindred
rather
by
abundance
of
substance
,
then
by
scarcity
?
is
it
not
euident
that
the
poore
(
for
the
most
part
)
geue
themselues
to
studie
?
that
the
riche
busied
in
other
affaires
,
either
cannot
,
or
will
not
follow
their
learning
?
So
much
of
Taletus
.
But
let
vs
procéede
farther
.
Who
séeth
not
that
the
rich
men
with
great
difficultie
come
to
the
knowledge
of
the
troth
?
hauing
alwayes
about
them
a
company
of
fayned
friendes
:
&
swarme
of
flatterers
?
Many
examples
might
here
be
alleadged
of
rich
men
that
haue
bin
abused
by
such
dissemblers
;
wheras
the
poore
man
is
frée
from
this
plague
?
none
going
about
to
circumuent
him
by
flattery
,
it
being
a
thing
most
manifest
,
that
they
that
professe
to
be
his
friends
are
true
friends
,
it
being
farre
from
any
suspition
,
that
they
should
come
to
flatter
him
,
or
fayn
to
be
his
friends
,
to
the
end
,
to
pluck
his
wealth
&
substance
from
him
,
who
standeth
more
in
néed
to
be
reléeued
himself
,
then
to
giue
to
others
.
What
shal
I
here
speak
of
the
snares
that
are
intended
agaynst
the
rich
:
both
towards
their
substance
and
persons
?
It
were
better
for
the
beast
called
the
Castor
,
that
he
had
not
those
vertuous
stones
,
when
as
for
them
he
is
so
pursued
of
the
hunters
;
it
should
be
better
also
for
men
that
they
had
not
these
riches
,
when
as
so
many
snares
&
deceits
are
laid
by
other
men
for
the
getting
of
them
.
But
euen
as
the
Castor
(
as
some
write
of
him
)
séeing
the
hunters
pursue
him
,
bytes
of
his
stones
,
for
the
sauegard
of
the
rest
of
his
body
:
so
should
that
rich
man
doe
,
which
séeth
himself
besieged
with
snares
,
and
counter
watches
for
his
substance
,
&
rather
to
choose
to
cast
al
away
,
then
not
to
be
assured
of
his
life
,
&
liberty
.
That
déede
therfore
of
Crates
the
Philosopher
was
woorth
the
noting
:
who
séeing
himself
encombred
,
and
his
estate
indangered
,
through
a
great
quantity
of
iewels
,
&
monie
that
he
had
,
threw
all
into
the
Sea
:
saying
,
I
had
rather
drowne
you
,
then
yée
shoulde
cause
me
to
perish
or
be
destroyed
.
Great
are
the
number
of
the
rich
men
with
are
iniuried
and
pursued
of
the
mighty
,
to
the
end
to
procure
their
substance
from
them
.
Wherefore
was
he
that
was
banished
at
the
instant
request
of
Fuluia
so
hardly
dealt
with
,
but
that
Fuluia
woulde
haue
had
his
faire
house
from
him
?
The
bookes
of
histories
both
old
and
new
are
replenished
with
examples
of
them
,
with
makes
me
in
opinion
to
be
contrary
to
Anacarsus
.
He
said
,
that
the
lawes
were
like
the
spiders
web
,
into
with
if
any
light
or
smal
thing
fell
,
it
there
remained
,
but
being
great
,
it
passeth
through
,
and
brake
it
asunder
.
Contrariwise
,
I
say
that
they
are
like
vnto
the
nets
of
hunters
,
into
the
which
if
any
little
beast
happen
,
he
presently
passeth
through
the
meshes
,
the
nets
not
béeyng
made
to
that
end
:
but
if
any
good
beast
enter
therein
,
as
a
hare
,
a
goate
,
or
a
Déere
,
he
sticketh
fast
,
and
is
taken
,
being
both
good
and
profitable
for
the
hunters
.
Verily
the
couetous
rich
man
liueth
continually
in
great
suspition
&
feare
,
least
that
his
substance
be
taken
from
him
;
or
that
he
be
beguiled
of
it
,
or
forced
to
depart
with
it
against
his
will
;
so
that
euery
shadow
séemeth
a
Bugbeare
vnto
him
;
euery
little
stirring
in
the
house
disquieteth
him
:
so
that
both
at
home
in
his
chamber
,
and
abroade
in
his
iourney
,
he
is
neuer
without
suspition
,
not
vnlike
the
man
that
is
ielous
of
some
woman
whom
he
loueth
.
Whereas
the
poore
man
,
not
hauing
his
brest
loaded
with
such
feare
;
and
féeling
himselfe
to
bee
light
in
his
iourney
,
standes
not
in
doubt
to
be
robbed
:
As
that
common
verse
sayeth
,
The
man
,
that
trauelling
by
the
way
no
wealth
with
him
doth
beare
,
Amids
the
troopes
of
theeues
may
sing
,
not
hauing
cause
of
feare
.
AND
doubtlesse
if
it
be
well
considered
of
,
the
poore
man
hath
but
one
care
,
which
is
,
to
procure
a
little
sustenance
wherewith
to
liue
,
but
the
rich
man
hath
thrée
thoughts
and
cares
together
.
The
one
to
conserue
the
riches
that
he
hath
:
the
other
how
to
encrease
them
:
the
third
how
to
dispose
them
:
through
which
it
comes
to
passe
,
that
the
poore
man
is
replenished
with
greater
hope
then
feare
;
and
of
the
other
part
,
the
rich
man
is
assailed
more
with
feare
,
then
hope
.
He
alwaies
hopeth
to
change
his
poore
estate
and
miserable
fortune
into
the
better
,
béeyng
already
placed
in
the
lowest
degrée
that
Defilus
sayde
w●ll
.
The
man
that
is
most
poore
,
most
happy
is
of
all
;
For
that
he
neuer
feares
in
worse
estate
to
fall
.
This
alwayes
doubteth
least
that
his
swéete
will
bee
transformed
into
sower
,
through
which
it
is
euident
,
that
the
poore
féeleth
a
greater
tranquillity
in
his
minde
,
being
replenished
with
hope
,
then
doth
the
riche
being
surprised
with
feare
.
What
farther
?
That
pouerty
bringeth
foorth
more
woorthy
effects
then
riches
,
not
onely
in
it selfe
,
but
in
others
also
.
For
pouerty
rayseth
pitie
&
compassion
in
others
which
are
most
beautifull
vertues
in
mans
minde
,
but
riches
inflame
and
stirre
them
vp
to
enuie
,
which
is
a
most
wicked
vice
.
Wherefore
if
good
effectes
come
of
good
causes
,
and
nanghtie
of
naughtie
causes
,
it
is
verie
likely
that
pouertie
is
more
vertuous
that
ingendereth
vertue
,
then
are
riches
,
that
produce
vices
in
others
.
What
more
shal
I
say
,
that
riches
procure
delightes
,
delightes
tendernes
and
delicasie
of
the
bodie
,
tendernesse
and
delicasie
causeth
weakenes
and
faintnesse
,
through
which
it
happeneth
that
rich
men
are
lesse
able
to
tollerate
trauel
,
heate
and
colde
,
and
other
humaine
discommodities
,
then
the
poore
are
,
who
by
a
patience
perforce
,
are
taught
to
endure
all
labour
and
trauell
,
and
euery
little
impression
of
the
ayre
,
neyther
are
brought
down
with
euery
litle
trifling
disease
,
as
the
rich
are
.
What
farther
?
Riches
ingender
faintnesse
of
courage
,
in
the
possessors
of
them
,
in
that
for
feare
of
abandoning
of
them
;
they
wil
not
aduenture
to
hazard
them selues
in
any
daunger
,
neither
for
their
friendes
,
nor
for
their
kinred
,
nor
countrie
,
neither
yet
for
themselues
,
but
are
alwayes
of
a
timerous
and
fearefull
minde
.
But
the
poore
man
not
drawne
backe
with
the
ielosie
of
this
worldly
pelfe
,
sheweth
his
valure
boldely
,
and
couragiously
exposeth
himselfe
to
perils
and
daungers
for
the
loue
of
his
freendes
,
&
countrie
.
What
besides
this
?
Abundant
riches
make
men
sluggish
,
not
suffering
them
to
awake
to
any
good
exercise
;
wheras
pouerty
seldom
permits
them
to
stand
drowsie
and
idle
,
but
awakens
them
to
beautiful
inuentions
,
and
laudable
trauels
.
But
let
vs
consider
one
point
that
toucheth
rich
men
to
the
quicke
,
but
the
poore
nothing
so
muche
.
All
men
both
by
the
law
of
God
and
nature
,
of
necessity
must
once
die
.
But
he
that
aboundes
in
riches
,
with
what
griefe
and
torment
doeth
he
depart
this
life
?
hee
would
not
leaue
his
fayre
house
,
his
gallant
village
,
his
costly
apparrel
;
his
braue
horses
,
his
bright
siluer
:
his
glittering
gold
,
and
other
infinite
commodities
,
and
delights
that
he
tasteth
in
this
world
:
which
séeing
that
he
must
néedes
forgoe
,
he
is
out
of
measure
vexed
,
and
through
inward
griefe
killes
himselfe
,
before
the
houre
of
his
death
approch
.
But
the
poore
man
,
who
takes
litle
ioy
in
this
world
,
makes
no
great
reckoning
to
leaue
it
,
not
tasting
that
bitter
sorow
,
with
dying
,
which
the
rich
men
féele
:
hoping
to
inioy
a
better
life
in
the
world
to
come
.
The
poore
also
in
this
world
haue
great
consolation
:
and
it
is
no
smal
comfort
vnto
them
,
to
think
that
the
rich
(
wil
they
,
nil
they
)
must
die
,
and
that
they
are
forced
(
in
spite
of
their
téeth
)
to
forgoe
al
theyr
substance
.
Neither
will
we
omit
to
say
,
that
somtimes
honest
pouerty
bringeth
with
it
more
liberty
&
contentment
of
life
,
then
vnmeasurable
riches
:
for
that
is
franke
and
frée
,
&
this
is
tyed
and
bounde
,
to
respects
,
and
suspitions
.
So
that
now
we
perceaue
,
that
al
is
not
pleasant
,
&
delightful
that
is
found
in
riches
,
nor
al
vnsauery
,
and
bitter
that
is
tried
in
pouerty
,
but
in
this
,
much
of
the
swéete
;
and
in
the
other
not
a
litle
of
the
sowre
:
in
both
séene
,
felt
,
and
tasted
.
Now
let
vs
procéed
a
litle
farther
.
And
(
if
yée
thinke
it
good
)
let
it
be
graunted
,
that
pouerty
is
euill
and
contemptuous
,
and
hath
in
it
no
consolation
(
but
truely
it
hath
in
it
all
these
comforts
,
of
which
we
haue
before
made
mention
,
which
béeing
well
tasted
of
the
poore
man
,
hée
shall
féele
no
litle
contentment
in
his
pouerty
)
let
this
be
considered
farther
,
that
he
is
not
onely
poore
:
&
that
this
euill
is
not
taken
from
all
others
,
and
cast
on
him
alone
:
but
the
number
of
the
poore
are
vnnumerable
,
when
as
of
the
riche
there
are
very
few
:
Through
which
,
if
to
haue
company
in
ones
aduersity
,
make
the
euill
to
séems
the
lesse
,
howe
light
should
the
euil
of
pouerty
be
,
the
poore
man
hauing
so
great
a
number
of
other
poore
men
to
associate
him
?
Let
vs
consider
farther
that
pouertie
doth
not
alwayes
pinche
,
but
onelie
then
,
when
he
féeleth
the
want
of
some
thing
that
he
greatly
néedeth
.
It
is
not
like
a
quotidian
Agewe
,
which
whiles
it
endureth
,
alwayes
vexeth
and
tormenteth
a
man
;
but
this
yéeldes
the
rest
and
repose
,
first
whilest
thou
sléepest
,
thou
hast
no
féeling
of
her
:
whereof
this
auncient
Prouerbe
tooke
his
original
;
That
in
one
halfe
of
theyr
life
,
there
was
no
difference
betwixt
the
happy
,
and
vnfortunate
.
Further
,
many
houres
of
the
day
,
a
man
thinkes
not
of
it
:
but
liues
ioyfully
,
as
if
he
were
rich
,
and
in
good
case
.
I
haue
séene
many
poore
men
,
leade
their
liues
so
iocundly
,
as
did
neuer
king
nor
Emperour
.
On
the
other
side
,
I
haue
knowne
many
rich
men
,
haue
theyr
myndes
alwayes
troubled
and
disquieted
,
as
if
they
were
wrapped
in
extréeme
want
,
and
misery
:
neuer
to
laugh
,
neuer
to
be
gladsome
,
nor
ioyful
,
wherby
I
haue
noted
,
that
the
true
tranquillity
of
the
mynde
springs
not
of
thinges
that
are
without
vs
,
but
of
that
delectable
musicke
,
and
well
tempered
harmonie
,
of
the
humayne
affections
that
are
within
vs
.
Let
vs
farther
consider
howe
that
pouertie
is
a
thing
that
may
bée
taken
from
vs
in
a
day
,
in
an
howre
,
and
as
it
were
,
in
a
moment
.
It
is
not
as
too
bee
blynde
,
lame
,
foolishe
,
or
maymed
,
or
a
calamitie
whereof
no
hope
remayneth
euer
to
bee
cured
;
but
pouerty
may
sodaynlie
bee
taken
away
:
eyther
by
the
beneuolence
of
thy
prince
,
or
some
noble
man
,
or
by
the
meanes
of
some
wealthie
friende
,
who
mooued
by
some
fauourable
motion
,
will
aduaunce
thee
too
riches
.
Abdolomenus
was
most
poore
,
Alexander
the
great
had
a
desire
to
make
him
king
,
and
it
was
done
presently
.
Héere-vpon
Menander
sayde
well
,
that
of
all
euils
,
pouerty
was
the
lightest
,
for
that
any
friend
that
wil
assist
thée
,
may
vnlode
thee
of
it
.
On
the
other
side
,
riches
are
frayle
,
&
fugitiue
,
when
as
a
man
in
a
moment
may
be
bereft
of
all
.
(
O
God
)
howe
many
haue
wée
our selues
séene
,
either
by
spoyling
on
the
land
,
or
by
drowning
theyr
shippes
on
the
Sea
,
or
by
confiscation
of
their
goods
,
or
through
the
displeasure
of
the
Prince
,
of
most
rich
,
on
the
sodayne
to
become
most
poore
.
Let
vs
farther
consider
that
the
poore
man
is
néerer
the
attayning
of
his
ende
,
then
is
the
rich
:
Forasmuch
as
hée
doth
not
ordinarily
desire
more
then
wherewith
to
supply
his
necessities
,
which
(
as
hath
béen
shewed
before
)
are
few
,
and
may
easily
be
remedied
.
But
the
rich
man
,
swelling
through
the
pride
of
his
substance
,
hath
his
naturall
,
and
reasonable
appetite
corrupted
,
and
desires
to
encrease
infinitely
in
his
riches
,
whereby
it
may
bée
séene
,
that
hée
is
farther
from
his
ende
,
then
the
poore
man
.
What
more
?
That
the
rich
man
encreasing
in
wealth
,
encreaseth
also
in
desires
,
and
by
howe
much
his
riches
are
the
greater
,
so
much
the
greater
also
are
his
needes
.
Whereof
this
sentence
was
wisely
spoken
.
Necesse
est
eum
multis
indigere
,
qui
multa
habeat
:
He
that
hath
many
things
,
must
of
necessitie
want
many
thinges
.
Let
it
be
considered
farther
that
man
is
borne
naked
,
and
hath
that
which
he
possesseth
of
the
méere
grace
of
God
,
in
such
sort
,
that
if
he
will
rightly
estéeme
euery
thing
:
he
ought
not
to
be
pensiue
and
sorowfull
for
that
hée
hath
not
,
but
ought
rather
to
render
immortall
thankes
vnto
GOD
,
for
that
which
hée
hath
.
Finally
,
let
this
bée
wayde
,
that
if
pouerty
bée
euill
,
it
is
very
shorte
,
let
it
endure
as
long
as
it
can
;
for
all
the
time
wée
haue
to
liue
héere
,
béeing
compared
with
the
infinite
eternity
that
endureth
euerlastingly
,
is
but
as
it
were
the
twinckling
of
an
eye
.
But
I
greatly
maruell
,
that
man
,
knowyng
how
hée
must
die
,
and
somtimes
thinking
thereof
,
doth
not
take
comfort
of
his
pouertie
,
and
(
as
it
were
)
of
euery
other
euill
that
hée
suffereth
:
For
that
,
either
hée
beléeues
that
our
soule
is
immortall
(
as
wée
ought
true
and
resolutely
to
beléeue
)
or
thinkes
(
as
some
naughtie
and
peruerse
people
doe
)
that
shee
shall
die
together
with
the
body
.
If
hée
déeme
it
to
bee
immortall
,
and
sées
infinite
rewardes
in
an
other
world
,
sette
downe
for
the
good
,
and
euerlasting
tormentes
for
the
wicked
,
who
is
hée
(
as
one
might
say
)
that
would
not
little
set
by
all
the
euill
and
good
of
this
world
,
to
gaine
the
felicitie
of
the
other
.
But
if
hée
now
thinke
the
soule
to
bee
mortall
,
how
can
pouertie
afflict
him
,
if
hée
consider
of
the
entire
destruction
of
himselfe
?
But
if
hée
resolue
of
neither
of
these
,
it
is
an
euil
of
al
others
most
to
bée
detested
.
Hyppocrates
in
his
diuine
Oracles
,
sayeth
,
that
when
two
euils
afflict
one
place
,
of
which
the
one
is
great
,
and
the
other
very
little
,
the
lesser
is
not
felt
.
If
then
pouertie
,
in
comparison
of
the
entire
destruction
of
himselfe
bée
a
light
euill
:
how
should
it
so
pinch
and
torment
them
?
But
as
it
is
most
requisite
,
let
vs
bée
Christians
,
and
affirme
not
onely
the
immortalitie
of
the
soule
,
but
vnfaignedly
beléeue
the
infallible
lawe
of
Iesus
Christ
,
reuealed
vnto
vs
by
the
light
of
his
grace
,
taught
vs
by
the
diuine
scriptures
,
confirmed
by
the
testimonie
of
so
many
Martyrs
,
shewed
by
so
many
lightes
of
diuine
vnderstandinges
,
approued
by
the
vniuersall
lawe
of
God
,
by
which
wee
are
guided
through
this
sea
of
fayth
.
Let
vs
I
say
,
bée
Christians
,
and
then
wée
ought
not
to
account
pouertie
to
bée
euill
,
but
deeme
it
rather
to
bée
a
true
imitation
of
Christ
,
who
whiles
hée
remained
in
this
world
,
liued
alwayes
poorely
,
and
méekely
.
But
besides
this
imitation
,
the
commaundements
that
the
eternall
veritie
hath
left
vs
,
to
doe
in
many
places
,
teache
it
vs
,
which
if
I
shoulde
héere
sette
it
downe
at
large
,
I
greatly
feare
,
that
in
stéede
of
a
comforting
friend
,
yée
would
thinke
mée
to
bée
a
tedious
preacher
.
I
will
only
rehearse
vnto
you
his
wonderfull
and
diuine
philosophy
,
when
as
hée
sayeth
;
I
say
vnto
you
,
Be
yée
not
careful
what
to
eate
,
nor
wherwith
to
cloath
your selues
.
Is
not
the
soule
of
more
valew
then
meate
?
and
the
body
,
then
rayment
?
Beholde
the
little
fowles
of
the
ayre
,
who
sow
not
,
neither
reape
,
nor
gather
into
their
barnes
,
and
yet
our
heauenly
father
feedeth
them
al.
Are
not
you
of
more
account
then
they
?
which
of
you
is
there
,
that
with
al
your
thought
can
ad
one
cubyt
to
your
stature
?
Why
are
you
so
carefull
for
apparell
?
consider
the
Lyllies
of
the
fielde
in
what
sorte
they
grow
,
they
worke
not
,
they
spinne
not
,
and
yet
I
say
vnto
you
,
that
Solomon
in
all
his
royaltie
was
not
cloathed
like
vnto
one
of
these
.
And
if
God
cloath
the
grasse
of
the
field
,
which
too
day
is
séene
,
and
too
morrow
is
throwne
into
the
furnace
,
how
much
rather
will
hée
cloath
you
,
O
yée
of
little
fayth
?
wherfore
bée
not
troubled
in
your selues
,
saying
,
What
shal
wée
●at
,
or
,
what
shal
we
drinke
,
and
wherwith
shall
wée
bée
cloathed
?
These
thoughtes
are
of
the
heathen
,
and
not
of
Christians
.
Your
heauenly
father
knoweth
well
,
what
yée
néede
.
Séeke
first
the
kingdome
of
God
,
and
his
righteousnes
,
and
all
other
things
that
yée
stand
in
néede
of
shal
bée
giuen
vnto
you
.
Bée
yée
not
carefull
what
to
eate
tomorow
:
but
let
too
morow
care
for
it selfe
.
Sufficient
is
vnto
the
day
,
the
trauayle
thereof
.
O
most
diuine
Philosophy
,
which
,
if
it
were
well
tasted
of
men
,
and
not
lightly
passed
ouer
,
no
man
would
euer
bée
grieued
or
afflicted
with
pouertie
.
But
wée
,
(
for
the
most
part
)
haue
not
any
feruent
desire
to
enter
to
the
quick
,
in
the
searching
out
the
troth
of
thinges
,
through
which
it
comes
to
passe
,
that
wée
seldome
,
or
neuer
vnderstand
aright
.
It
is
not
néedefull
to
lay
vp
treasure
héere
on
earth
,
where
rust
and
moathes
doe
consume
;
but
in
heauen
,
where
neither
rust
nor
moathes
do
consume
,
nor
théeues
breake
in
&
steale
.
And
if
wée
consider
farther
,
how
hard
it
is
for
a
rich
man
to
enter
into
the
kingdome
of
heauen
,
there
is
none
of
so
little
vnderstanding
,
but
wil
despise
and
abhor
riches
:
not
,
but
that
rich
men
may
be
saued
:
but
for
that
the
most
part
of
them
haue
their
mindes
so
encumbred
with
riches
,
that
it
is
very
hard
for
them
to
attaine
saluation
:
&
therefore
Christ
said
,
it
is
lesse
easie
for
a
rich
man
to
enter
into
the
kingdome
of
heauen
,
them
for
a
Camel
to
passe
thorow
the
eie
of
a
needle
.
For
hée
whose
affection
is
greedily
set
on
riches
,
seldome
thinkes
reuerently
of
God
,
but
so
fixeth
his
desire
on
earthly
things
,
that
he
makes
himselfe
vnworthy
of
the
glory
of
heauen
,
preferring
mundane
vanitie
,
before
Gods
veritie
.
Wheras
Christ
teaching
christian
perfection
,
saieth
otherwise
,
to
the
Hebrew
young
man
:
Goe
,
and
sell
that
which
thou
hast
,
and
giue
it
to
the
poore
,
&
after
follow
mée
.
Truely
pouertie
is
a
dowrie
most
conuenient
for
a
Christian
:
Therfore
,
when
yee
know
your selues
to
bee
poore
,
bée
yée
not
comfortlesse
:
but
rather
thinke
that
yée
are
the
more
in
Gods
fauour
,
who
in
al
his
sayings
,
and
doings
,
recommended
the
poore
,
praysed
them
,
called
them
blessed
,
and
receiued
them
into
his
protection
,
being
déere
and
beloued
of
him
:
so
that
it
is
a
most
goodly
thing
to
liue
poorely
,
in
this
short
and
transitorie
life
;
to
become
most
rich
in
the
life
to
come
,
which
shal
be
permanent
&
euerlasting
:
to
set
at
naught
the
false
and
deceaueable
Iewels
of
this
world
;
to
gaine
most
plentifull
and
abundant
treasure
in
paradise
.
O
most
worthy
marchandise
!
O
most
plentiful
gaine
!
which
neither
théeues
can
rob
thée
of
;
nor
seruaunt
beguile
thée
;
nor
debter
deceaue
thée
:
but
will
fill
and
replenish
thée
with
farre
greater
,
and
better
fruite
,
then
by
the
tongue
of
man
may
bée
expressed
.
What
shal
I
say
farther
?
that
those
thinges
are
few
,
and
very
easie
to
bée
procured
,
with
which
our
humane
nature
is
suffised
:
but
many
and
infinite
,
which
our
appetite
desireth
.
And
that
the
grace
of
God
is
neuer
wanting
vnto
those
,
who
filled
with
a
feruent
spirite
,
refraine
their
earthly
affections
,
and
restraine
them
within
the
limites
of
Christian
temperaunce
.
Wherof
Saint
Paule
writing
vnto
Timothy
most
diuinly
said
,
It
is
a
great
gain
of
godlines
,
to
be
contented
with
the
which
is
sufficient
.
We
brought
nothing
into
this
world
,
&
it
is
manifest
,
that
we
shal
carie
nothing
hence
with
vs
.
But
hauing
conuenient
foode
and
apparell
,
let
vs
content
our selues
therwith
:
for
they
that
would
become
rich
,
fall
into
the
snares
,
and
temptations
of
the
deuil
,
and
into
sundry
hurtfull
and
vnprofitable
desires
,
which
drowne
them
in
ruine
&
perdition
:
for
that
couetousnes
is
the
roote
of
al
euill
:
which
diuers
falling
into
,
stray
from
the
true
fayth
,
and
are
encombred
with
many
eares
and
sorowes
.
O
wordes
worthy
to
pearce
into
the
liuely
heartes
of
men
,
and
so
there
to
bée
grounded
and
grauen
,
that
with
no
earthly
force
,
they
might
euer
bée
rased
out
.
The
diuine
wordes
of
Paule
being
throughly
considered
of
,
there
is
no
cause
wherefore
poore
men
should
bée
pensiue
or
sorowfull
.
But
wherefore
wade
I
farther
in
the
comforting
of
them
;
when
as
it
is
impossible
for
mée
to
say
so
much
,
but
that
much
more
will
remaine
vnspoken
?
And
I
am
assured
,
I
haue
scarsly
launched
out
from
the
shore
,
and
am
far
from
being
halfe
entred
from
this
most
profound
,
and
large
sea
.
And
yet
,
herewith
I
know
assuredly
,
that
the
least
part
of
that
,
which
hath
béene
sayd
,
is
sufficient
for
the
quieting
and
conforting
of
any
mind
,
that
is
not
become
eyther
beastly
,
or
furious
with
the
prickings
,
or
pinchings
that
pouertie
may
bring
vnto
him
:
so
that
,
if
those
thinges
,
which
I
haue
sayde
,
and
many
other
that
I
could
alledge
,
doe
not
moderate
and
pacifie
him
,
beléeue
mée
,
pouertie
is
not
the
cause
héereof
:
but
this
distemperate
,
and
ill
composed
mind
,
which
also
would
haue
molested
him
,
if
hée
had
béene
rich
.
For
hée
would
haue
found
out
some
other
arrow
,
or
sworde
wherewith
to
haue
thorowe
pearced
his
heart
.
You
then
,
who
haue
your
minde
stored
with
so
many
good
lessons
of
Philosophy
,
comfort
your selfe
,
and
take
all
thinges
that
God
sendes
,
in
good
part
;
hope
in
him
,
who
neuer
fayleth
nor
deceaueth
them
,
that
put
their
trust
in
him
.
Hée
will
open
you
the
way
,
and
minister
the
meane
,
whereby
to
cure
these
woundes
of
pouerrie
;
at
the
least
hée
will
teach
you
,
how
to
beare
them
with
patience
:
and
peraduenture
also
will
giue
you
manifestly
to
vnderstand
that
it
is
for
your
health
and
consolation
.
Comfort
your selfe
,
in
that
although
yée
want
riches
,
yet
want
yée
not
the
true
knowledge
,
&
bewtie
of
wit
&
vnderstanding
,
and
vertues
of
the
mind
,
which
things
are
more
appertinent
and
proper
vnto
you
,
then
are
riches
;
which
are
placed
among
the
externall
things
,
and
are
no
part
of
you
;
and
so
much
the
more
comfort
your self
,
by
how
much
the
giftes
of
your
mind
cannot
bée
taken
from
you
,
neither
by
men
,
nor
fortune
;
but
of
your
riches
and
worldly
substaunce
,
théeues
may
spoyle
you
in
a
moment
.
Comfort
your selfe
,
in
that
yée
haue
many
good
friendes
,
which
loue
you
entyrely
,
who
will
neuer
endure
to
sée
you
long
in
poore
estate
.
But
rather
after
the
maner
of
true
and
stedfast
friendes
,
will
account
your
pouertie
to
bée
their
owne
,
and
with
some
part
of
their
substance
,
will
take
it
from
you
:
comfort
your self
,
with
your
bookes
,
which
yée
were
alwaies
accustomed
to
hold
in
great
estimation
;
they
will
féede
and
nourish
your
vnderstanding
,
and
with
singular
declectation
,
alwayes
recreate
your
senses
:
they
will
pacifie
euery
stormie
and
troublesome
tempest
;
and
both
by
night
and
by
day
;
within
doores
,
and
witho●t
;
in
good
fortune
and
bad
,
will
remaine
your
most
faythfull
friendes
,
and
comfortable
companions
.
Finally
,
comfort
your selfe
,
in
that
,
if
pouertie
bée
euill
,
yet
haue
yée
not
this
euill
by
your
owne
offence
,
or
procuremen
,
not
by
dicing
and
carding
,
nor
by
haunting
the
tauern
;
not
by
playing
the
harlot
,
nor
by
any
other
sort
of
lewde
lyfe
,
or
naughtie
behauiour
:
but
in
euery
action
your
vsage
hath
béene
honest
,
and
temperate
;
your
minde
being
no
lesse
adorned
with
lawdable
customes
,
and
conditions
,
then
learning
.
Yée
are
then
fallen
into
this
necessitie
,
by
the
offence
of
Fortune
,
who
(
as
it
is
not
vnknowne
to
the
most
part
of
Rome
)
being
enuious
at
the
good
course
that
yée
haue
taken
,
hath
many
yeares
sithence
wounded
your
body
,
and
brought
you
into
a
miserable
&
daungerous
estat
,
oftentimes
euen
to
death
;
hath
also
setled
&
letted
you
back
,
from
all
good
enterprises
&
operations
both
of
body
&
mind
;
&
in
this
her
rage
hath
caused
you
to
make
far
greater
expence
,
then
your
abilitie
will
reach
vnto
;
in
such
sort
,
that
yée
are
now
brought
into
that
miserable
estate
,
in
which
yée
now
are
,
onely
by
her
sinister
procurement
:
so
that
if
with
her
great
outrage
,
there
were
not
ioyned
an
arrogant
impudencie
,
shée
would
not
for
very
shame
of
her selfe
bée
séene
any
more
in
the
world
.
But
besides
these
consolations
,
let
reason
&
necessitie
moue
you
;
ye
afflict
your selfe
;
what
doth
this
affliction
auaile
you
?
is
your
pouertie
taken
away
by
making
of
so
great
sorowe
as
yée
do
?
if
it
were
so
,
it
were
a
very
good
remedie
.
But
,
alas
,
shée
is
not
yet
departed
,
but
remaines
as
at
the
first
,
or
rather
greater
;
and
this
vncessant
sorowing
doth
not
onely
profit
,
but
rather
endomage
you
greatly
.
Adding
to
the
first
euil
,
the
most
grieuous
euill
of
affliction
;
whereof
Plato
in
his
bookes
of
a
Common
wealth
,
said
most
diuinely
,
That
it
was
the
best
thing
that
could
bée
in
calamitie
,
to
take
it
so
paciently
&
to
be
contented
therwith
as
wée
possibly
can
:
in
the
first
it
is
vncertain
,
whether
the
thing
,
for
which
we
lament
,
be
good
or
euill
.
Farther
,
the
being
sorowfull
,
doth
not
in
any
thing
remedie
that
which
is
happened
:
besides
that
,
no
humaine
thing
should
bée
of
such
estimation
,
that
it
should
moue
a
man
to
dwell
in
anguish
for
it
.
What
more
?
that
griefe
and
sorow
are
a
hinderaunce
to
those
remedies
which
might
spéedily
haue
béene
taken
.
Most
true
and
worthy
are
those
reasons
of
Plato
,
which
if
they
were
well
wayed
,
and
duely
considered
of
,
who
is
there
that
euer
would
afflict
himselfe
for
any
worldly
calamite
?
Truely
such
sorowing
is
forbidden
to
all
:
but
to
the
learned
and
vertuous
,
much
more
:
whereof
Fauorinus
saide
most
wisely
,
that
a
man
of
bold
courage
,
trained
vp
in
the
golden
precepts
of
true
Philosophy
,
should
haue
tranquillitie
of
minde
,
shut
vp
and
setled
in
his
brest
,
before
any
ill
hap
light
vpon
him
:
which
is
no
more
to
say
,
but
that
a
wise
man
shold
haue
a
strong
Armour
in
a
readines
,
wherewith
to
defend
himselfe
against
euery
stroke
and
assault
of
fortune
.
But
what
meane
I
to
go
forwardes
to
speake
vainely
as
a
Philosopher
,
hauing
already
reasoned
with
you
as
a
Christian
?
The
largnes
of
the
matter
doth
cary
mée
away
;
and
the
great
affection
that
I
beare
you
,
doeth
prick
mée
forward
,
neither
can
I
well
set
downe
,
which
of
these
two
are
greater
.
Therfore
,
vnlesse
I
would
alwayes
speake
,
it
is
néedeful
that
I
make
an
ende
of
speaking
.
It
was
an
easie
thing
,
to
enter
into
the
déepe
sea
of
this
argument
,
but
vneasie
to
get
forth
.
Wherfore
I
must
doe
héere
,
as
Alexander
the
great
did
by
Gordianus
his
knot
,
who
being
vnable
to
vndoe
it
,
did
cut
it
in
sunder
with
his
sword
.
Now
although
pouertie
haue
not
all
that
dowries
of
mée
,
which
God
and
Nature
hath
endewed
her
with
:
yet
haue
I
bestowed
so
many
on
her
,
that
she
may
euery
way
go
richely
to
her
husband
.
Yee
ought
not
to
feare
of
being
any
more
poore
,
shée
bringing
so
wealthy
a
dowrie
to
your
house
:
neither
néede
yée
to
stand
in
doubt
of
hauing
many
riualles
,
to
contend
for
her
,
as
Eurimacus
,
&
Antinous
,
with
other
woers
did
for
Penelope
,
for
that
pouertie
(
as
Xenophon
in
the
person
of
Socrates
saies
very
well
)
amongst
other
her
vertues
,
hath
this
priuiledge
:
that
shée
prouoketh
not
men
,
to
brawle
and
fight
,
and
to
deceaue
and
séeke
one
an
others
death
for
the
hauing
of
her
,
as
it
often
commeth
to
passe
,
for
the
attaining
of
riches
,
honour
or
kingdomes
:
for
although
shée
be
not
lockt
vp
,
nor
garded
,
shée
conserues
and
kéepes
her selfe
,
and
that
which
is
most
to
be
estéemed
,
shée
is
so
modest
and
chast
,
that
none
in
the
house
where
shée
dwelleth
,
will
bée
ielous
of
her
.
Sée
then
whether
shée
bée
honest
,
or
deserue
to
bée
had
in
reputation
,
or
no.
But
know
yée
not
why
shée
remaies
without
a
husband
?
It
is
not
for
want
of
any
goodnesse
,
or
bewtie
,
being
endued
plentifully
with
eyther
of
them
:
But
because
euery
one
doth
staine
and
defile
her
;
euery
one
holdes
her
in
contempt
,
filling
her
with
filthinesse
,
and
most
spitefull
pollutinges
,
in
such
sorte
,
that
her
true
and
natiue
bewtie
cannot
bée
séene
.
But
if
any
man
would
louingly
bring
her
to
his
house
,
and
purifie
and
wash
her
,
adorning
her
with
her
true
and
proper
ornamentes
,
no
doubt
shée
would
appeare
most
gallant
and
bewtifull
:
and
it
will
then
euidently
bée
séene
,
how
vile
and
contemptible
riches
are
in
comparison
of
her
.
Behold
almost
,
I
cannot
ende
,
and
yet
I
will
end
.
Fare
yée
well
:
and
repose
your
confidence
in
God
,
who
is
the
true
and
bountifull
dispenser
of
all
good
thinges
.
An
answere
of
Maister
Clodius
Ptholomoeus
,
to
a
Letter
sente
him
by
a
friende
,
that
meruelled
wherefore
hee
hauing
such
learning
,
remayned
in
so
meane
and
base
an
estate
of
calling
.
IN
the
last
Letter
that
I
receiued
from
you
,
great
was
the
woonder
and
complaint
that
yée
brought
in
against
mée
,
which
considering
that
it
springeth
altogether
of
the
ouer
great
affection
that
yée
beare
towards
mée
,
I
neither
maruell
at
it
,
nor
am
sory
for
it
.
This
auoucheth
that
to
bée
true
,
which
is
spoken
by
Plato
,
That
the
louer
is
often
blinded
in
the
thing
beloued
:
I
account
my selfe
déepely
indebted
to
your
curtesie
,
for
this
your
affection
:
but
therwithall
I
wish
your
iudgement
to
bée
somwhat
more
temperate
:
for
I
would
not
that
contrary
effects
should
méete
in
mée
at
one
instant
,
féeling
pleasure
of
the
loue
that
yée
beare
mée
,
&
displeasure
of
your
iudgement
.
I
pray
you
therefore
better
to
consider
of
this
poynte
following
,
and
after
pronounce
such
iudgement
of
mee
,
as
yée
shall
thinke
requisite
.
That
as
an
auncient
cauiller
did
appeale
from
Caesar
béeyng
moued
and
angry
,
to
Caesar
being
not
moued
nor
angry
;
so
I
at
this
present
appeale
from
you
beyng
carried
away
with
ouer
great
affection
,
to
your self
hauing
Reason
for
your
gouernesse
.
Yée
doe
not
a
litle
maruel
that
I
,
in
so
long
a
time
haue
not
lept
to
any
degrée
of
honour
or
fortune
.
It
séeming
vnto
you
that
my
linage
,
my
countrey
,
my
age
,
my
studies
,
my
customes
,
my
long
aboade
in
the
court
,
my
fauour
acquired
with
men
of
high
calling
,
and
finally
,
my
present
noble
and
honorable
seruice
,
should
haue
aduanced
me
;
yea
and
farther
that
many
other
are
dayly
to
bée
séene
in
the
court
,
endued
with
qualities
farre
inferiour
to
mine
,
to
leape
sodainly
to
degrées
of
preferment
;
and
that
I
was
accurst
,
and
that
it
was
a
shame
for
me
,
to
remayne
thus
alwayes
in
base
fortune
,
and
priuat
condition
.
And
in
the
ende
(
as
a
disdaynful
friend
)
yée
conclude
,
that
this
cannot
come
to
passe
,
but
of
an
extréeme
soft
spritednesse
in
me
,
in
that
I
helpe
not
forward
my
fortune
as
I
shoulde
,
putting
me
in
mynde
of
that
auncient
sentence
of
the
Spartans
,
that
in
calling
for
ayde
of
God
,
it
is
necessary
that
we
set
to
our
owne
helping
hands
,
as
the
instruments
of
God
.
Truely
I
know
not
with
what
beginning
it
were
best
to
answeare
this
your
long
maruell
,
and
tedious
complaynt
.
And
beeyng
desirous
to
doe
you
a
pleasur
,
eit
came
in
my
mynde
once
,
to
graunt
you
that
which
you
affirme
to
be
true
;
thinking
at
one
instaunt
,
to
ease
my selfe
of
labour
in
answearing
,
and
you
of
annoy
,
in
reading
this
my
troublesome
reply
.
But
I
should
erre
in
performing
the
duety
that
is
conuenient
to
a
true
friend
,
if
eyther
to
flatter
you
,
or
to
auoyde
labour
;
I
should
not
apparantly
tel
you
that
which
I
thinke
.
First
,
I
know
not
whether
this
greatnesse
of
fortune
that
yée
wish
me
,
be
a
thing
that
bringeth
felicity
to
a
man
yea
or
no
,
or
whether
it
take
it
from
him
.
For
y●
as
the
most
wise
&
ancient
sages
haue
set
down
vntovs
)
there
is
no
man
that
perfectly
knowes
what
is
good
or
euil
vnto
him
in
this
world
.
Whervpon
Socrates
would
not
that
any
particular
thing
shoulde
be
craued
at
Gods
handes
,
but
that
onely
,
which
is
good
.
And
when
I
looke
well
about
me
,
I
finde
not
in
them
that
are
aduanced
to
high
degrees
,
any
tranquilitie
of
mind
,
but
rather
as
their
dignitie
,
and
greatnes
augmenteth
,
so
increase
they
likewise
in
greater
perturbations
and
frettings
of
the
minde
.
For
it
seldome
or
neuer
comes
to
passe
otherwise
,
but
that
with
the
abundance
of
the
giftes
of
fortune
;
ambition
,
and
greater
desire
of
honor
and
riches
encrease
.
Through
which
the
oracle
did
not
iudge
any
king
to
be
happy
,
although
he
were
most
rich
,
and
mighty
;
but
rather
Aglaius
Psofidius
,
who
manuring
a
litle
peece
of
grounde
that
he
had
,
&
taking
care
of
nothing
,
with
great
ioy
and
contentment
,
liued
a
most
happie
and
fortunate
life
.
Those
that
persist
infinitely
in
the
desire
of
riches
,
may
bee
compared
vnto
them
which
in
old
time
ran
to
a
mighty
great
mountayne
,
with
dogs
,
nets
,
and
other
engins
with
purpose
to
haue
taken
the
moone
,
which
they
verily
thought
to
haue
done
;
but
they
that
first
(
with
great
trauel
and
labour
)
arriued
to
the
top
of
this
huge
hill
,
found
themselues
so
farre
distant
,
and
no
lesse
out
of
hope
,
then
those
with
were
climed
vp
but
to
the
side
of
it
,
or
those
others
,
who
remoued
not
from
the
vally
.
Tranquilitie
doth
not
spring
of
those
thinges
that
are
without
vs
,
but
of
the
harmony
of
a
temperate
mind
within
,
which
doth
truely
create
felicity
in
vs
,
and
is
the
cause
thereof
.
For
euen
as
some
great
piller
placed
in
the
bottom
of
a
déepe
wel
,
is
neuerthelesse
great
;
and
a
Dwarfe
placed
on
the
toppe
of
some
stéeple
,
is
alwaies
litle
:
so
the
frée
and
noble
mind
wrapped
in
basest
fortune
,
wil
shew
his
magnanimity
,
&
the
base
mind
in
the
highest
degrée
of
dignity
wil
discouer
his
vility
.
I
speake
not
this
now
as
concerning
Christian
perfection
,
for
ye
know
that
making
mention
hereof
,
it
shal
not
be
néedfull
to
enter
into
question
;
when
as
neither
riches
,
nor
honor
bring
happines
vnto
men
,
but
rather
y●
one
&
the
other
are
oftentimes
the
occasions
of
bringing
them
into
extréeme
misery
,
&
cause
the
gate
of
heauen
to
be
shut
vp
agaynst
them
.
For
the
true
&
onely
felicity
of
a
Christian
,
is
the
grace
of
God
,
&
no
other
thing
.
I
speak
then
as
a
gentleman
gouerned
by
humane
reason
and
ciuil
orders
,
liuing
betwixt
the
law
of
men
and
nature
.
He
verily
,
which
sées
not
how
that
honour
&
riches
depriue
men
of
felicity
,
it
is
manifest
and
apparant
,
that
he
hath
his
eyes
blinded
&
darkened
with
the
smoke
of
ambition
and
cloudes
of
couetousnesse
,
which
are
the
two
beasts
,
compared
by
the
Poet
Dante
,
to
a
Lion
,
and
a
shée
woolfe
,
which
let
&
hinder
vs
from
leaping
to
the
mount
of
felicity
.
I
deny
not
,
but
that
riches
&
dignity
may
helpe
towards
the
contentment
of
the
minde
.
In
this
point
I
will
bee
a
Peripatetike
,
and
purpose
not
to
defend
as
a
Stoike
,
that
onelie
vertue
sufficeth
.
Let
it
be
so
,
that
riches
&
dignity
are
requisite
towards
the
accomplishment
of
felicity
:
should
it
then
haue
no
end
?
Behold
Abdolomenus
borne
of
the
stocke
royall
liued
in
passing
tranquility
,
in
a
litle
farme
,
tilled
,
and
sowed
with
his
owne
hands
,
in
such
sort
that
he
neuer
heard
of
the
bruit
and
rumors
of
the
armie
of
Alexander
the
great
,
which
had
driuen
all
Asia
into
a
maze
and
astonishment
.
He
tasted
farre
greater
felicity
in
this
his
poore
calling
,
then
when
afterwardes
by
Ephestion
he
was
aduanced
to
the
title
of
the
kingdome
.
Of
whom
being
demanded
how
he
coulde
with
pacience
brooke
that
poore
and
abiect
estate
,
with
a
hawty
&
coragious
mind
,
answered
him
,
saying
;
O
that
I
knew
so
wel
(
if
it
pleased
God
)
how
to
support
the
troubles
,
&
weightines
of
the
kingdome
.
Dioclesian
a
most
prudent
and
puisant
Emperor
,
hauing
wayed
and
considered
of
the
annoyes
,
and
encombrances
that
bearing
rule
,
brought
with
it
,
returning
to
a
priuate
life
,
gaue
it
ouer
;
and
at
Salon
a
manour
of
his
,
he
planted
hearbes
&
trées
with
his
owne
hands
,
neyther
could
he
euer
be
allured
by
any
persuasion
,
nor
remoued
by
any
occasion
,
from
this
his
fixed
&
determinat
resolution
,
preferring
the
quiet
tranquility
of
this
priuat
life
,
before
the
troublesome
turmoyles
of
principalities
,
&
Empires
.
The
like
wee
reade
of
the
emperor
Adrian
,
a
most
puisant
captayne
,
who
by
great
trauel
&
intercession
,
obtayned
licence
in
the
ende
of
his
dayes
,
to
dwel
in
a
litle
village
of
his
,
where
he
liued
7.
yéers
in
great
ease
and
quiet
.
Who
dying
,
left
an
apparant
testimonie
,
that
the
life
led
in
honour
and
dignity
,
was
not
the
true
life
.
For
he
caused
these
woordes
to
bee
graued
on
his
toombe
:
Heere
lies
the
wight
whose
age
is
of
many
yeeres
,
but
he
liued
but
onely
seuen
.
I
coulde
heere
bring
to
your
memorie
,
with
how
many
hatred
and
enimities
the
worldly
promotions
are
inuironed
,
so
that
nothing
is
sure
in
them
,
nothing
without
suspect
,
in
such
sort
that
the
Poet
Pindarus
said
that
the
Gods
with
one
good
had
alwayes
entermixed
twoo
euilles
.
And
I
dare
boldely
aduouch
that
in
these
smokes
,
and
vaine
pompes
,
for
euery
one
contentment
,
yée
are
attached
with
ten
displeasures
.
But
yée
know
wel
that
this
place
being
of
the
philosophers
most
largely
intreated
of
,
is
of
many
men
not
vnderstoode
,
of
othersome
despised
,
of
very
fewe
beleeued
,
and
almost
of
none
followed
.
But
for
the
better
manifesting
of
both
our
intents
)
I
wil
come
nearer
vnto
you
.
Be
it
so
that
riches
and
honour
are
full
of
these
felicities
,
that
are
commonly
beleeued
to
bee
in
them
,
by
them
that
praise
them
,
and
holde
them
in
reuerent
admiration
.
What
of
this
?
is
it
of
necessitie
that
it
must
be
good
for
others
also
?
The
natures
,
instincts
,
desires
,
and
motions
are
not
equall
and
alike
in
all
men
:
either
by
the
influxion
of
the
starres
,
or
the
varietie
of
temperaments
,
or
diuersitie
of
educations
,
many
thinges
delight
and
recreate
some
one
minde
,
which
woorke
contrarie
effectes
in
another
:
And
for
those
thinges
that
Hirachtus
wept
bitterlie
,
Democrates
laughed
ioyfully
.
Then
is
it
not
greatly
to
be
woondred
at
,
if
those
thinges
which
are
comfortable
,
and
nutritiue
vnto
other
mens
mindes
,
séeme
noysome
and
bitter
vnto
me
?
How
many
are
there
that
abhorre
wine
,
a
most
healthful
and
precious
liquor
?
and
how
many
are
there
that
cannot
sauour
roses
,
being
flowers
most
delectable
?
Ought
these
therefore
to
be
reprooued
,
and
made
to
drinke
wine
,
and
smel
roses
by
force
?
And
why
may
I
not
say
y●
vnto
you
by
the
law
of
nature
,
which
Alexauder
the
great
did
to
Parmenio
by
reason
of
his
fortune
?
Who
propounding
a
condition
of
peace
vnto
Darius
,
and
profering
him
a
part
of
his
kingdome
,
demaunded
Parmenio
his
aduice
and
iudgement
heerein
.
Who
answered
,
saying
,
if
I
were
Alexander
,
I
woulde
doe
it
.
So
woulde
I
,
answered
Alexander
,
if
I
were
Parmenio
.
So
whereas
in
your
letter
yee
say
,
if
that
you
were
my selfe
,
you
woulde
doe
it
,
and
say
it
:
I
likewise
reply
and
answere
you
that
I
shoulde
peraduenture
both
say
it
,
and
doe
it
,
if
I
were
you
.
But
as
Alexander
esteemed
it
a
discredit
to
his
fortune
to
consent
to
such
a
peace
;
so
I
account
it
inconuenient
for
my
disposition
,
and
nature
,
to
enter
,
and
encomber
my selfe
with
that
care
and
bondage
,
which
yee
depaint
out
vnto
me
,
whiles
ye
allure
me
thervnto
with
the
enticing
baites
of
honour
and
riches
:
yet
I
would
ye
should
vnderstande
,
that
I
haue
not
a
minde
so
backewarde
and
dull
,
but
that
I
take
comfort
of
those
things
,
that
other
men
commonly
delight
in
.
Let
it
be
graunted
,
that
it
is
good
for
me
to
be
aduaunced
to
riches
and
dignitie
:
doeth
it
follow
that
I
should
be
despised
or
blamed
,
or
dispaire
,
and
thinke
the
woorse
of
my selfe
,
if
I
reach
not
to
that
preferment
,
which
might
bee
desired
,
or
hoped
for
?
What
woonderings
?
what
complaints
are
these
of
yours
?
as
though
yée
were
ignorant
,
that
many
thinges
are
desired
,
that
are
not
obtayned
;
much
hoped
for
,
that
is
not
inioyed
;
manie
more
run
,
then
get
the
goale
:
and
finally
farre
greater
are
the
number
of
them
that
shoot
at
a
mark
,
then
those
which
strike
it
?
May
not
all
this
happen
of
the
malignity
of
my
fortune
,
which
wil
not
permit
or
suffer
me
,
to
be
lifted
vp
from
the
ground
or
aduanced
?
if
it
be
so
,
is
the
fault
mine
?
Of
a
truth
diuers
Astrologers
,
by
the
view
of
the
day
of
my
natiuity
,
haue
found
out
by
theyr
rules
and
obseruances
that
most
vnlucky
condition
,
vnto
which
I
am
predestinate
,
that
is
to
say
,
continual
féeblenes
&
basenes
of
fortune
;
And
although
I
am
Didimus
in
that
they
say
,
&
an
heretike
in
theyr
science
(
as
I
haue
often
told
you
here
in
Rome
)
neuertheles
,
in
this
vnlucky
forewarning
I
haue
ouer
wel
knowen
,
and
found
by
experience
,
that
they
haue
told
me
the
troth
.
Yet
wil
I
not
lay
the
blame
hereof
vpon
fortune
,
as
on
a
dumbe
image
that
cannot
answere
to
the
accusations
that
are
brought
in
against
her
,
let
it
be
graunted
that
the
chiefest
parte
of
humaine
proceedinges
,
are
directed
by
mans
wisedome
,
and
let
him
be
(
as
the
wiseman
affirmeth
)
the
framer
of
his
own
fortune
.
What
shoulde
I
then
doe
?
with
what
instruments
(
I
pray
you
)
woulde
you
haue
me
to
frame
and
fashion
this
my
good
happe
?
with
remaining
long
in
Rome
,
and
looking
for
occasions
?
it
is
now
twentie
and
fiue
yeeres
sithence
I
came
first
into
this
court
,
and
I
thinke
that
in
this
long
season
,
I
was
neuer
three
miles
distant
,
and
yet
neither
haue
I
any
good
or
fortunate
successe
by
my
seruice
,
neither
stande
in
hope
of
anie
.
Yet
haue
I
been
a
continuall
waiter
,
&
was
neuer
almost
at
libertie
,
wherof
it
greatly
repenteth
me
:
not
for
that
the
seruice
of
noble
men
little
liked
me
:
but
rather
because
the
iniquitie
of
fortune
hath
(
by
my
long
courting
)
brought
me
into
such
a
miserable
seruitude
and
slauerie
,
that
no
good
resolution
of
mind
can
enter
into
me
.
I
haue
heertofore
done
too
much
,
but
I
tel
you
that
hereafter
,
neither
will
I
,
nor
can
I
,
neither
is
it
conuenient
that
I
doe
it
,
this
is
a
practise
for
yong
men
,
&
not
of
old
men
,
amongst
which
number
I
nowe
reckon
my selfe
.
Young
men
abound
in
leasure
,
and
trauell
seemeth
not
tedious
vnto
them
,
which
wanteth
in
old
men
,
vnto
whom
euerie
little
discontentment
is
a
torment
.
And
as
gracious
and
séemely
as
it
is
to
sée
a
yong
man
attendant
on
some
noble
man
:
so
vnséemely
&
ridiculous
is
it
,
to
sée
an
olde
man
.
Truely
the
long
losse
of
time
that
is
spent
in
courting
,
is
to
me
verie
noyson
:
and
chiefly
in
that
I
stand
there
,
as
an
image
or
paynted
table
.
And
rather
would
I
employ
it
eyther
in
reasoning
,
with
my
friends
or
in
learning
,
amongst
my
books
,
or
in
pleasuring
or
profiting
others
,
by
my
studies
;
&
this
is
a
laudable
meanes
,
wherby
to
mount
to
those
degrées
of
dignitie
that
ye
propound
vnto
me
.
But
alas
,
if
the
nature
hath
geuen
me
smal
wit
,
not
ouer
great
memory
,
weake
iudgement
(
&
that
which
more
gréeueth
me
)
vnhealthfulnes
of
stomake
;
sorenes
of
eies
&
euery
other
part
of
my
body
il
affected
,
what
can
I
doe
here
in
?
it
might
here
vnto
be
added
,
that
at
this
present
I
am
tossed
with
such
sundry
mishaps
,
that
they
neuer
permit
me
quietly
to
encline
my
mind
to
study
.
Wherof
the
desire
onely
is
left
me
,
my
forces
being
insufficient
any
longer
to
vndertake
any
such
trauell
.
Wherfore
if
I
doe
not
and
cannot
ariue
vnto
this
prayse
,
let
the
torment
and
anoy
(
I
pray
you
)
that
I
tast
and
suffer
in
being
depriued
of
that
swéete
consolation
,
which
studie
bringes
with
it
,
suffice
,
without
adding
newe
griefes
vnto
me
,
of
the
priuation
of
my
desarts
;
what
I
knew
to
doe
,
I
haue
done
,
no
more
coulde
I
doe
.
And
I
assure
my selfe
,
that
although
for
learning
I
can
challenge
no
commendation
,
yet
am
I
not
vnworthy
of
some
excuse
,
in
that
I
haue
alwayes
taken
a
singular
delight
,
to
sée
these
things
in
other
,
that
I
find
wanting
in
my selfe
;
I
haue
loued
,
reuerenced
,
and
as
it
were
,
adored
them
.
Neither
did
I
euer
account
any
more
worthy
of
the
titles
of
honour
and
dignity
,
then
those
which
haue
lifted
vp
their
vnderstandings
to
beautifull
contemplations
,
through
which
theyr
mindes
are
replenished
with
vertuous
wisedome
.
And
I
haue
put
such
betwixt
these
men
and
others
,
as
is
betwixt
the
liuing
,
and
thinges
paynted
.
But
you
wil
peraduenture
,
demand
me
whether
I
meane
it
of
those
that
are
vertuous
indéede
,
or
of
such
as
counterfaite
a
certayne
outward
hypocriticall
shewe
of
vertue
:
doe
not
so
much
as
surmise
it
,
I
beséech
you
,
that
I
speake
it
of
the
fayned
.
For
my
nature
doeth
detest
nothing
more
then
counterfayte
vertue
,
and
rather
would
I
make
choyce
to
die
,
then
deceaue
the
worlde
,
in
enforcing
my selfe
to
be
holden
for
deuoute
,
when
as
I
am
neyther
good
,
nor
godly
.
And
I
beléeue
for
troth
,
that
there
are
no
men
in
this
world
more
pernicious
,
nor
greater
enemies
to
our
sauiour
Christ
,
then
are
such
hipocrites
.
But
as
touching
true
bounty
indéed
,
I
tel
you
for
certaine
,
that
I
think
nothing
more
pertinent
vnto
a
man
than
it
,
&
so
far
forth
I
déeme
it
proper
vnto
him
,
that
a
man
leauing
it
,
&
geuing
himselfe
ouer
to
wickednes
,
is
no
more
to
be
counted
a
man
,
but
that
rather
vnder
his
humane
shape
,
hee
carrieth
the
minde
of
a
bruite
beast
.
Nowe
it
séemeth
not
vnto
me
that
bounty
should
be
vsed
for
the
hope
of
reward
,
but
rather
for
the
band
of
humanity
,
and
loue
and
desire
to
doe
well
.
And
it
shineth
so
much
the
brighter
in
any
man
,
by
how
much
he
is
not
led
astray
by
any
other
ende
,
then
goodnesse
it selfe
.
Of
which
if
any
sparkle
be
in
me
,
eyther
by
nature
,
or
election
,
it
is
not
to
be
maruelled
at
if
it
want
the
reward
yée
look
for
;
in
that
first
,
I
know
very
well
,
that
not
onely
by
the
vniuersal
humaine
debility
,
but
by
that
which
is
proper
and
peculiar
to
my selfe
,
I
finde
it
so
slender
in
me
,
that
of
it selfe
,
it
geueth
no
light
at
all
;
Farther
,
I
neuer
directed
it
to
the
end
to
receiue
guerdon
by
it
,
being
an
excercise
(
in
my
opinion
)
farre
different
from
the
neate
and
pure
condition
of
being
good
.
I
tel
you
truely
that
I
haue
and
doe
receaue
a
farre
greater
rewarde
then
that
yée
desire
in
me
.
For
that
litle
which
I
féele
in
my selfe
,
makes
me
tast
,
how
much
the
life
of
the
good
,
is
more
blessed
then
that
of
the
wicked
:
How
this
aboundes
in
swéetnesse
,
tranquillity
and
consolation
;
how
that
is
the
spring
and
fountaine
of
al
feares
,
hatreds
,
debates
,
vexations
&
trauels
.
In
such
sort
that
when
a
man
wil
not
,
for
Gods
sake
do
the
déedes
of
an
honest
man
,
&
good
Christian
;
yet
me
thinks
at
the
leastwise
he
should
doe
it
for
the
quiet
&
comfort
that
is
tasted
thereby
in
this
worlde
.
But
you
will
tell
mee
that
rewardes
ensue
vertue
,
as
the
shadowe
followeth
the
bodie
.
Nowe
,
as
the
body
béeyng
not
made
too
the
ende
to
bring
foorth
the
shadowe
,
neuerthelesse
bringeth
it
foorth
:
so
vertue
is
the
cause
that
rewarde
is
obtayned
,
although
it
be
not
sought
for
,
or
vsed
to
that
end
.
You
would
haue
mée
confesse
it
,
&
I
grant
it
also
,
that
I
am
not
arriued
,
through
the
mortification
of
my
body
,
&
quickning
of
the
spirit
,
to
that
high
degrée
and
spirituall
vnion
,
with
which
the
olde
diuine
fathers
,
conioyned
themselues
to
God
;
neither
am
I
yet
come
to
that
christian
perfection
,
which
was
required
in
the
Hebrewe
youngman
.
I
haue
not
solde
that
little
which
I
haue
,
and
giuen
it
to
the
poore
:
neither
haue
I
denied
my selfe
,
nor
taken
Christ
his
crosse
on
my
shoulders
,
and
followed
him
.
What
more
?
that
in
slacke
obseruing
of
the
commaundements
of
Gods
lawe
,
I
neither
merit
,
nor
haue
deserued
the
title
of
a
perfect
Christian
;
for
that
many
occurrences
haue
happened
,
which
haue
caused
mée
to
wander
wide
from
these
diuine
obseruations
.
What
farther
?
that
(
setting
christianitie
aparte
)
I
am
not
(
as
a
morall
Philosoper
)
arriued
to
that
excellencie
of
manners
,
which
are
fitting
and
conuenient
for
a
purifyed
minde
,
as
in
times
past
was
knowne
to
bée
in
Aristides
,
in
Socrates
,
in
Phocion
,
and
diuers
others
,
with
most
apparant
examples
of
iustice
,
temperance
,
and
fortitude
,
and
other
rare
and
diuine
vertues
.
But
rather
my
doubt
is
,
that
(
as
a
man
that
is
not
gouerned
by
any
learning
,
but
lyueth
onely
by
the
instinct
of
nature
)
I
want
greatly
that
,
which
is
requisite
for
that
estate
:
through
which
I
know
not
how
to
chalenge
vnto
my self
these
prayses
,
which
my
conscience
telles
mée
I
am
vnworthy
of
.
And
finally
,
as
of
no
part
I
déeme
my selfe
praisewoorthy
:
so
,
if
there
bée
any
thing
in
mée
,
that
doth
not
altogether
deserue
praise
,
it
is
this
:
that
I
haue
had
a
care
in
what
I
might
,
not
to
iniurie
others
:
then
I
haue
done
mine
endeuour
(
when
occasion
hath
béene
offred
mée
)
to
pleasure
and
gratifie
as
many
as
I
might
,
being
induced
thereunto
by
Nature
,
perswaded
by
precepts
of
good
writers
,
and
confirmed
therein
by
iudgement
,
which
hath
imprinted
a
setled
resolution
in
my
minde
:
and
this
I
account
to
bée
the
chiefe
fountaine
,
from
which
al
other
vertues
(
that
maintaine
humaine
societie
amongst
vs
)
first
flow
and
procéede
.
Now
,
if
those
vertues
that
are
requisite
to
the
aduauncing
of
mée
to
the
degrées
of
riches
and
honour
,
be
not
in
me
:
wil
ye
meruaile
if
I
be
not
aduaunced
?
And
if
there
be
any
such
in
me
,
wherfore
doe
yée
reprehend
me
?
ought
I
,
in
not
deseruing
those
degrées
,
to
haue
them
;
and
deseruing
them
,
to
bée
reprehended
for
not
hauing
them
?
If
I
deserue
them
not
,
for
Gods
sake
let
mée
liue
with
so
many
others
my
equalls
,
subiect
to
the
like
fortune
,
and
adde
not
the
sinne
of
arrogancie
,
to
the
want
of
desart
.
For
it
is
a
foolish
and
presumptuous
part
for
a
man
to
aspyre
to
those
degrées
,
of
which
hée
knowes
him selfe
vnworthy
.
But
if
it
séeme
vnto
you
that
I
haue
deserued
them
,
it
had
bene
your
part
rather
to
confort
mée
,
than
reprehend
me
,
&
ye
might
haue
said
,
the
oftentimes
my
betters
haue
beene
depriued
of
the
fruites
of
their
desart
and
prayse
that
they
haue
merited
;
and
that
it
is
much
better
to
deserue
an
honour
,
then
to
haue
it
.
For
honour
may
bée
receaued
by
the
will
of
him
that
giues
it
,
vertue
not
being
the
guide
of
it
:
But
no
man
can
deserue
it
,
but
the
vertue
must
first
make
a
way
to
the
desart
.
Héerevnto
the
example
of
Cato
myght
bée
added
,
who
would
rather
that
it
should
bée
demaunded
,
wherefore
Images
were
not
set
vp
to
Cato
,
then
why
they
were
set
vp
.
And
if
now
it
séeme
straunge
vnto
you
,
that
more
then
two
hundred
are
gone
beyonde
mée
,
in
pre●erment
;
yée
ought
in
the
best
part
to
enterprete
such
accidentes
,
and
héerein
imitate
the
example
of
Pedaretus
,
a
valiant
man
with
the
Spartans
,
who
amongst
thrée
hundred
that
bare
office
in
their
Citie
,
,
not
being
elected
for
one
,
ioyed
greatly
:
who
being
demaunded
(
of
his
friende
Ephorus
)
the
cause
of
his
gladnesse
,
pleasauntly
aunswered
;
what
should
I
doe
,
but
bée
ioyfull
,
séeing
that
there
are
thrée
hundred
men
in
our
Citie
,
better
then
my selfe
?
so
shoulde
you
reioyce
of
Rome
in
hauing
so
many
good
men
that
excell
mée
.
And
ye
ought
to
wish
,
that
not
onely
two
hundred
,
but
fiue
hundred
,
a
thousand
;
yea
thrée
thousand
men
should
passe
mée
in
vertue
,
and
wisedome
,
and
by
consequence
,
in
fortune
and
honour
:
through
which
I
déeme
it
would
come
to
passe
,
that
this
our
Realme
should
bée
much
more
florishing
and
honourable
,
then
now
it
is
.
I
doe
not
seeme
to
my selfe
to
bee
such
a
one
,
as
should
deserue
those
dignities
that
yee
wishe
mee
:
but
bee
it
that
I
had
many
of
these
partes
,
which
you
cal
desart
in
me
,
neuerthelesse
neither
coulde
I
,
nor
shoulde
I
haue
any
of
these
honours
but
by
fauour
:
in
that
I
stande
assured
that
the
fountaine
from
whence
these
preferments
flowe
,
is
beyonde
and
aboue
all
our
merites
and
desartes
.
But
in
the
ende
,
I
know
you
wil
say
,
that
beeing
often
conuersant
with
them
,
in
requesting
,
and
beeing
importunate
,
I
might
haue
obteined
riches
,
and
dignitie
,
and
that
this
is
the
meanes
that
hath
holpen
,
and
doeth
helpe
a
number
dayly
,
and
that
it
is
the
very
same
whereof
mention
is
made
by
Christe
in
his
Gospel
,
when
hee
saith
,
Aske
,
and
it
shall
bee
giuen
you
;
knocke
,
and
it
shal
be
opened
.
What
shal
I
answere
heerevnto
?
but
that
not
deseruing
it
,
it
seemeth
an
vnaduised
part
of
mée
to
craue
rewarde
,
&
deseruing
it
,
mée
thinks
it
should
come
without
asking
.
As
I
haue
saide
,
so
will
I
say
,
that
I
knowe
not
whether
I
haue
deserued
it
or
no.
Now
,
if
there
bee
any
that
thinkes
mée
worthy
of
any
thing
,
let
him
request
it
for
mée
:
but
not
by
my
commaundement
.
For
if
I
knew
that
I
deserued
it
a
thousande
times
,
yet
would
I
not
bée
so
shamelesse
and
impudent
to
demaund
it
.
For
I
haue
not
directed
my
operations
to
that
end
,
that
I
should
craue
guerdon
for
them
;
besides
that
,
it
is
not
conuenient
for
a
Gentleman
so
to
doe
.
What
farther
?
that
it
is
a
thing
cleane
repugnaunt
to
my
nature
and
disposition
,
and
in
the
crauing
thereof
I
should
bée
so
colde
and
timerous
,
that
(
as
the
Prouerbe
saieth
)
I
should
teach
others
to
denie
mée
.
For
I
being
vnable
to
demaund
any
thing
,
without
spéech
of
some
desart
of
mine
,
how
shall
this
be
done
without
arrogancie
,
when
as
I
knowe
none
to
bee
in
me
?
And
if
there
were
any
,
could
I
speake
of
it
my selfe
,
without
blushing
?
To
conclud
,
I
think
it
neither
good
,
profitable
,
nor
honest
for
me
.
Thus
I
pray
you
,
iudge
of
me
,
that
although
I
haue
no
great
substance
of
sound
vertue
:
yet
want
I
not
some
little
shadow
of
decent
modestie
.
Neither
would
I
haue
you
wish
me
to
become
a
new
Satibarsanes
,
with
Araxzrxes
,
or
Turinus
,
with
Alexander
.
And
of
this
resolue
your selfe
,
that
it
for
these
twentie
and
fiue
yeares
,
I
haue
with
a
bold
courage
,
knowne
how
to
tollerate
many
strokes
of
Fortune
:
I
hope
also
with
like
fortitude
to
ouerpasse
the
rest
of
the
time
that
God
hath
appoynted
mée
to
liue
in
this
world
:
and
shall
(
perhappes
)
tast
greater
tranquillitie
in
this
my
poore
and
meane
calling
,
then
a
number
of
others
doe
,
with
their
riches
and
honour
.
To
conclude
,
I
know
this
your
aduice
to
procéede
of
an
incredible
affection
that
yée
beare
mée
,
but
yet
I
purpose
not
to
put
it
in
practise
,
nor
followe
it
:
but
as
Marius
,
when
that
certaine
vaines
in
his
legges
should
bée
cut
,
made
answere
,
that
the
health
of
his
legges
was
not
such
,
as
that
it
should
deserue
to
bée
bought
with
such
terrible
anguish
,
and
torment
:
so
séemeth
it
vnto
mée
,
that
the
smoake
which
procéedeth
from
these
honours
and
promotions
,
are
not
so
benificial
,
as
that
they
should
merit
to
be
bought
with
so
great
trouble
and
affliction
,
both
of
body
and
minde
.
I
would
not
wish
you
,
to
take
in
hand
,
to
answere
euery
part
of
my
letter
,
nor
that
desire
should
so
farre
transport
you
,
a●
to
make
you
to
taste
new
annoyes
by
the
same
:
put
an
end
thereunto
,
I
beséech
you
.
And
if
you
will
néeds
write
againe
,
send
it
to
Laconica
,
either
reprouing
mée
,
or
confirming
mée
in
that
I
haue
written
.
Whatsoeuer
it
shall
be
,
I
will
take
it
in
good
parte
from
you
,
whome
I
loue
entirely
,
and
recken
of
amongst
the
number
of
my
best
and
chiefest
friendes
.
A
translation
out
of
french
,
of
a
Supplication
presented
by
Iohn
Meschinot
,
Esquire
,
vnto
the
Duke
of
Brittane
his
Lorde
and
Maister
,
wherein
he
nameth
himselfe
the
Banished
from
Ioyfulnesse
,
by
H.
G.
MOst
humbly
complayneth
vnto
your
honour
,
your
poore
vassayle
,
loyall
subiect
,
and
obedient
seruant
,
The
banished
from
ioyfulnesse
,
remayning
in
the
diocesse
of
misfortune
,
the
parish●oner
of
affliction
,
and
néere
neighbour
of
dispaire
:
giuing
you
to
vnderstand
,
howe
from
his
young
yeares
,
hée
hath
continually
serued
my
Lords
your
predecessours
,
whose
soules
God
hath
receiued
:
And
whome
it
hath
pleased
you
(
for
which
I
yéelde
you
humble
thankes
)
to
entertaine
amongst
the
number
of
them
,
which
are
of
your
speciall
sauegarde
and
protection
.
Neuerthelesse
,
a
théefe
,
(
the
common
enemie
of
humaine
creatures
)
named
Mishappe
,
remaining
alwayes
with
Fortune
,
accompanied
with
an
olde
leane
woman
,
called
Pouertie
,
haue
vncessantly
warred
,
and
almost
in
euery
place
pursued
your
said
supplyant
,
tending
to
his
totall
destruction
:
whose
rage
and
furie
hath
vntill
this
present
béene
resisted
by
the
good
ayde
and
support
,
that
it
hath
pleased
you
,
and
your
honourable
auncestors
to
make
for
him
.
And
it
is
so
(
Souereigne
sir
)
that
although
in
times
past
,
the
Banished
from
ioyfulnesse
hath
béene
cruelly
handled
,
and
sharpely
assayled
by
the
forenamed
Mishappe
and
Pouertie
:
yet
at
this
present
,
they
haue
taken
and
bound
him
,
in
such
lamentable
sorte
,
that
without
your
spéedie
ayde
and
succour
,
hée
cannot
long
indure
to
resist
their
malice
.
And
for
the
better
bringing
of
their
purpose
to
passe
,
they
haue
first
dispoyled
your
sayde
supplyant
of
fiftie
yeares
,
and
more
,
which
he
had
receiued
of
God
and
nature
,
being
depriued
of
all
hope
,
of
euer
recouering
any
of
them
againe
.
And
in
this
sorte
,
as
a
slaue
or
bondman
,
doe
they
detaine
him
against
his
wil.
And
for
his
farther
punishment
,
they
haue
giuen
expresse
commandement
,
and
deliuered
it
strictly
in
charge
to
Furie
,
Sorow
,
thought
&
vexation
being
their
armorers
,
to
forge
for
the
said
banished
from
ioyfulnes
a
strong
&
weightie
armor
of
proof
,
double
sodored
,
the
stuffe
thereof
being
of
the
stéele
or
melancholy
;
The
smythy
or
hearth
wheron
they
heate
,
it
is
Langor
,
which
is
kindled
with
the
fire
of
fretting
,
from
whence
yssues
so
great
flame
,
and
smoke
of
anger
&
furie
,
occasioned
through
the
wind
,
procéeding
from
the
bellowes
of
sighinges
and
gronings
,
as
it
is
a
thing
most
horrible
to
expresse
.
And
God
,
thou
knowest
,
how
sowre
most
vgly
and
hideous
olde
women
,
that
is
to
say
Impatience
,
Lamentation
,
Iniurie
,
and
Miserie
,
continually
strike
and
beate
on
it
,
on
the
anuill
of
anguish
,
with
the
hammers
of
Rygour
.
Afterwardes
they
temper
the
said
armour
with
the
water
of
bitternesse
,
néere
the
which
leapes
forth
a
salte
riuer
of
trickling
teares
,
taking
his
course
through
the
vallie
of
shame
,
ouernéere
the
sorowfull
aboade
of
your
said
supplyant
:
so
that
oftentimes
through
the
superabundaunce
of
raine
and
showers
of
sorowe
,
the
waters
of
disquiet
and
controuersie
growe
and
flowe
so
hye
,
that
the
village
of
his
heart
is
,
as
it
were
all
drowned
.
It
resteth
to
tell
you
how
they
scowre
,
and
make
bright
this
harnesse
.
They
haue
a
great
grinding
stone
of
torment
,
turnde
about
by
féeblenesse
and
slaunder
on
the
one
side
,
and
ruine
and
confusion
on
the
other
side
.
The
maisters
of
this
worke
,
are
Daunger
,
Debate
,
and
displeasure
,
which
often
besprinckle
the
said
harnesse
with
the
powder
or
sparkdust
of
rage
,
making
therewith
a
blacke
vernish
.
With
this
armour
of
proofe
haue
they
determined
to
arme
your
foresaid
suppliant
,
vppon
a
doublet
of
dolor
,
tyed
on
by
trauell
,
with
the
poyntes
of
discomfort
,
and
their
purpose
is
to
make
him
carie
it
on
foote
through
the
darke
kingdome
of
solytarinesse
,
to
warre
against
felicitie
.
And
I
verily
think
,
that
in
the
end
,
they
will
take
from
him
the
power
to
doe
you
any
longer
seruice
(
which
I
beséech
your
honor
,
most
souereine
Lord
,
not
to
permit
)
for
neither
they
,
nor
any
other
whatsoeuer
,
shall
neuer
bée
able
to
take
from
him
the
desire
that
hée
hath
still
to
serue
you
.
Now
it
is
so
,
that
a
notable
and
reuerent
Ladie
called
old
Age
▪
(
séeing
into
what
miserie
and
captiuitie
the
foresayde
Mishappe
and
Pouertie
haue
brought
your
saide
supplyant
)
hath
promysed
and
determined
shortly
to
deliuer
him
out
of
their
handes
,
and
in
the
meane
season
will
keepe
him
good
and
comfortable
company
,
vntill
the
ende
of
his
daies
,
so
that
hée
may
obtaine
your
good
fauour
and
assistaunce
.
For
otherwise
wanting
wherwith
to
supply
his
necessities
,
hée
cannot
bée
restored
to
his
fréedome
.
Might
it
stand
therefore
with
your
good
pleasure
(
most
souereigne
Lord
)
to
commaund
Honour
the
procurer
generall
of
your
enterprises
,
to
stand
with
your
sayde
supplyant
,
and
take
such
order
in
this
behalf
,
that
his
forenamed
enimies
may
bée
expulsed
,
and
that
hée
no
longer
remaine
beséeged
with
such
iminent
distruction
.
Consider
that
this
ryot
hath
béene
made
,
whiles
I
remained
vnder
your
sauegard
and
in
your
seruice
.
Lastly
therefore
,
these
are
most
humbly
to
pray
and
beséech
you
,
so
to
ordaine
for
the
estate
of
the
banished
from
ioyfulnesse
,
that
hee
may
with
ioy
and
contentment
finish
and
accomplishe
the
shorte
time
that
hee
hath
to
lyue
in
this
worlde
.
In
so
doing
yée
shall
reforme
him
,
both
in
chaunging
his
name
,
and
the
place
of
his
aboad
;
so
will
hée
more
and
more
enforce
himselfe
,
to
dwell
néerer
your
pallace
,
to
doe
you
loial
seruice
to
his
power
,
during
life
:
making
continuall
intercession
to
god
,
that
he
may
graunt
you
peace
and
repose
of
spirit
,
ease
and
health
of
bodie
,
honour
,
good
and
long
life
;
with
all
that
your
noble
heart
wisheth
,
and
heauen
for
your
finall
inheritaunce
.
Translated
out
of
Italian
.
Twoo
sworne
Brothers
,
being
souldiers
,
maried
twoo
sisters
:
the
one
of
them
made
much
of
his
wife
,
entreating
her
with
all
lenitie
that
might
be
,
yet
would
shee
not
obey
his
will
and
pleasure
:
The
other
threatned
his
wife
,
and
kept
her
in
obedience
,
and
she
alwayes
did
,
what
he
commaunded
her
.
The
one
requesteth
the
other
,
to
teach
him
●ow
to
make
her
obediente
,
which
he
did
,
wherevppon
hee
threatning
and
vsing
her
as
the
other
did
,
shee
laught
him
to
scorne
.
THere
dwelt
in
times
past
,
in
a
garison
néere
adioyning
to
Rome
,
two
sworn
brothers
,
who
no
lesse
loued
one
the
other
,
then
if
they
had
yssued
out
of
one
womb
:
of
which
the
one
had
to
name
Siluerius
,
the
other
was
called
Pisardus
,
and
both
of
them
by
profession
were
souldiers
:
although
their
amitie
was
great
,
yet
they
dwelt
not
in
one
house
.
Siluerius
,
the
younger
wanting
a
gouernesse
for
his
house
,
tooke
to
wife
the
daughter
of
a
taylour
,
being
named
Spinella
,
a
gallant
and
bewtifull
mayden
,
but
of
a
high
,
and
lofty
disposition
.
The
marriage
being
ended
,
&
the
wife
being
brought
home
to
his
house
,
he
was
so
feruently
inamoured
on
her
beauty
,
that
he
thought
there
was
not
any
woman
in
the
world
,
able
to
goe
beyond
her
:
and
in
this
his
doting
moode
,
suffered
her
to
say
and
doe
what
she
listed
,
&
gaue
her
euery
thing
that
shée
demanded
:
through
which
Spine
Ila
became
so
bolde
,
and
heddy
,
that
shée
litle
or
nothing
estéemed
her
husband
;
&
the
ignorant
fot
was
now
come
to
such
a
passe
,
that
when
he
willed
her
to
doe
one
thing
,
shée
would
go
about
another
thing
,
&
bidding
her
to
come
hither
,
she
would
goe
a
cleane
contrary
way
,
and
laugh
him
to
scorne
.
And
her
husband
being
none
of
the
wisest
,
dared
neither
to
remedy
it
,
nor
to
reprehend
her
,
but
suffered
her
in
euery
thing
to
doe
,
what
best
pleased
her
fancie
.
Within
a
yéere
after
,
Pisardus
was
married
to
another
daughter
of
the
foresaide
Taylour
,
who
was
called
Fiorella
,
béeing
full
out
as
beautifull
as
her
sister
,
but
inferiour
to
her
in
brauery
,
&
suttlety
of
wit
.
The
nuptials
being
finished
,
and
the
wife
brought
home
to
his
house
,
Pisardus
tooke
a
paire
of
bréeches
,
and
two
cudgels
,
saying
vnto
her
,
Fiorella
,
these
are
the
bréeches
of
a
man
,
take
you
one
of
these
staues
,
and
I
wil
haue
the
other
;
and
wee
will
try
by
combate
,
which
of
vs
shal
carry
away
the
bréeches
;
on
this
condition
,
that
he
which
shal
be
conquerer
,
shal
haue
them
;
&
he
that
shal
be
ouercome
shall
alwayes
remayne
obedient
to
the
Conquerour
.
Fiorella
hearing
these
words
of
her
husband
,
without
any
delay
,
readily
aunsweared
with
great
humility
:
Alas
,
my
husband
,
what
meane
yée
by
these
spéeches
that
yée
vtter
?
are
not
you
the
husband
,
and
I
the
wife
?
Ought
not
the
wife
alwaies
to
be
obedient
to
her
husband
?
How
shoulde
I
euer
then
commit
such
a
folly
?
Now
carry
you
the
bréeches
and
weare
them
,
for
they
belong
more
vnto
you
,
and
will
better
become
you
,
then
me
.
I
wil
then
(
answered
Pisardus
)
still
weare
the
bréeches
,
&
be
the
husband
,
and
thou
as
my
beloued
wife
,
stand
obedient
vnto
me
.
But
take
héede
,
that
yée
alter
not
your
determination
,
in
séeking
to
make
your selfe
the
husband
,
and
me
the
wife
,
for
that
after
it
shall
repent
you
.
Fiorella
,
who
was
wise
,
confirmed
that
he
had
spoken
,
and
at
the
same
instant
,
her
husband
gaue
her
the
gouernment
of
al
his
house
;
then
said
he
,
wife
I
will
bring
thée
to
my
stable
and
shew
thée
my
horses
,
for
that
thou
maist
know
what
order
to
take
for
them
,
if
I
shall
chaunce
to
be
absent
.
And
being
come
thither
,
said
,
Fiorella
,
how
like
ye
these
my
geldings
?
are
they
not
fayre
?
are
they
not
gallant
,
and
in
good
plight
?
To
whom
shée
answered
;
they
are
in
déede
,
Sir
,
but
behold
(
sayd
Pisardus
)
how
ready
,
and
obedient
they
are
:
and
taking
a
wande
,
touched
now
the
one
,
and
nowe
the
other
,
saying
;
Holla
,
hoyst
,
come
aloft
,
and
they
shewed
themselues
most
obedient
to
theyr
maister
.
Amongst
the
rest
,
Pisardus
had
one
horse
,
fayre
enough
to
the
eye
,
but
very
dogged
of
disposition
,
which
was
the
cause
that
he
litle
estéemed
him
;
comming
vnto
him
with
the
rod
in
his
hand
,
he
said
;
come
here
;
come
there
;
and
strake
him
;
but
the
horse
being
by
nature
knauish
,
suffered
his
maister
to
lay
on
him
,
not
doing
any
thing
of
that
hée
bad
him
,
but
that
he
kickt
and
spurnde
at
him
,
now
with
one
foot
,
now
with
both
.
Pisardus
séeing
his
crabbednesse
,
with
a
great
and
tough
cudgel
beate
him
a
good
,
but
all
preuayled
not
.
Which
his
maister
séeyng
,
being
kindled
in
choler
,
set
hand
to
his
sword
that
he
had
by
his
side
,
in
the
presence
of
Fiorella
,
ran
him
through
,
&
killed
him
;
wherat
shée
being
moued
with
compassion
,
said
,
alas
my
husband
,
why
haue
yée
killed
this
horse
?
He
was
very
faire
,
and
it
is
great
pitie
so
to
kill
him
.
Pisardus
with
a
troubled
countenance
,
answeared
,
I
let
you
vnderstand
,
that
al
they
,
which
eate
that
is
mine
,
and
doe
not
what
I
bid
them
,
shal
be
payde
with
the
same
money
.
Fiorella
hearing
this
answeare
,
was
very
pensiue
,
and
sayd
within
her selfe
,
Alas
,
sorowful
creature
,
&
wretch
that
I
am
,
in
ill
time
came
I
hither
,
I
thought
that
I
had
a
wise
man
too
my
husband
,
but
now
I
see
I
haue
happened
on
a
beast
.
Sée
how
for
litle
or
nothing
he
hath
killed
a
gallant
horse
.
Thus
remained
,
shée
very
pensiue
in
her selfe
,
not
knowing
to
what
ende
her
husband
spake
it
.
Through
which
Fiorella
was
so
exceedingly
afrighted
,
and
stoode
in
such
awe
of
him
euer
after
,
that
when
shée
heard
him
but
stirre
,
shée
would
tremble
for
feare
,
&
whatsoeuer
he
willed
her
to
doe
,
it
was
accomplished
presently
,
and
scantly
could
her
husband
open
his
mouth
to
speake
,
before
she
vnderstood
him
,
&
there
was
neuer
any
contention
,
or
brawling
heard
betwixt
them
.
Siluerius
who
loued
his
friend
Pisardus
passing
well
,
oftentimes
came
to
visite
him
,
and
would
dine
and
suppe
with
him
,
who
noting
the
mild
demeanour
&
modest
behauiour
of
Fiorella
,
maruelled
greatly
,
saying
within
himselfe
.
O
God
,
why
was
it
not
my
hap
to
haue
taken
Fiorella
to
wife
,
as
wel
as
my
brother
Pisardo
?
Sée
how
shée
gouernes
the
house
,
and
doth
what
he
commandeth
her
most
obediently
.
But
mine
(
wretche
that
I
am
)
doeth
cleane
contrary
,
not
affoording
me
neyther
a
good
word
,
nor
chéereful
countenance
vnlesse
shée
may
haue
her
owne
will
in
euery
thing
:
Siluerius
on
a
certayne
day
walking
alone
with
Pisardus
,
and
debating
of
diuers
matters
,
amongst
other
communication
,
he
said
.
Brother
Pisardus
,
thou
knowest
the
loue
and
good-will
that
hath
long
remayned
betwixt
vs
.
I
would
willingly
learne
of
you
,
what
meanes
yée
vsed
at
the
first
,
in
bringing
your
wife
to
such
obedience
and
to
winne
her
to
make
so
much
of
you
.
I
can
neuer
so
louingly
commaund
Spinella
to
doe
any
thing
,
but
she
answeares
me
ouerthwartly
,
and
herewith
doeth
al
things
contrary
to
that
I
bid
her
.
Pisardus
smyling
hereat
,
from
poynt
to
poynt
tolde
him
,
the
order
and
meanes
that
he
had
vsed
when
he
brought
her
first
to
his
house
,
persuading
him
to
doe
the
like
,
and
prooue
whether
it
woulde
take
effect
,
which
if
it
did
not
,
hee
knewe
not
what
aduise
to
geue
him
.
This
liked
Siluerius
very
well
,
who
taking
his
leaue
of
his
friende
and
beyng
come
home
to
his
house
,
without
any
delay
called
for
his
wife
,
and
taking
a
payre
of
his
owne
bréeches
,
and
a
couple
of
staues
,
did
as
his
friend
Pisardus
had
counselled
him
.
Which
Spinella
séeing
,
said
vnto
him
.
What
new
thing
,
Siluerius
,
is
this
that
yée
are
about
to
doe
?
What
buzzes
are
there
put
in
your
head
?
Are
you
now
become
a
foole
?
Doe
we
not
know
,
thinke
you
;
that
men
,
and
not
women
,
should
weare
bréeches
?
and
what
necessity
is
there
I
pray
you
,
in
doing
these
thinges
,
so
besides
the
purpose
?
but
Siluerius
making
no
answere
,
procéeded
in
his
determinate
order
,
geuing
her
the
rule
and
gouernment
of
his
house
.
Spinella
maruelling
heereat
,
cuttedly
saide
vnto
him
.
Think
you
that
I
cannot
doe
these
things
sufficiently
without
these
your
godly
instructions
that
you
so
hotly
geue
mée
?
But
her
husband
held
his
peace
,
and
going
with
his
wife
to
the
stable
,
did
the
like
to
his
horses
,
that
Pisardo
had
done
before
,
and
killed
one
;
Spinella
séeing
such
fondnes
,
thought
verily
that
he
was
besides
himselfe
,
and
saide
vnto
him
,
Alas
,
I
pray
you
tel
me
Sir
,
what
mad
moodes
are
these
?
what
is
there
come
in
your
braine
?
What
is
there
meant
by
these
vnaduised
parts
that
yée
play
?
Are
yée
witlesse
?
Siluerius
answered
.
I
am
neither
mad
nor
foolish
.
But
all
they
that
liue
at
my
charge
,
and
doe
not
obey
me
,
shal
be
chasticed
in
like
sorte
as
yée
haue
nowe
séene
.
Spinella
perceruing
to
what
end
this
was
done
by
her
vnwise
husband
,
●aid
vnto
him
:
Ah
sot
that
thou
art
.
It
séemeth
wel
that
thy
horse
was
a
simple
beast
,
to
suffer
himself
so
miserably
to
be
killed
at
thy
hands
.
But
what
meane
yée
by
this
?
Thinke
yée
to
doe
that
vnto
me
,
which
ye
haue
done
to
your
horse
?
in
truth
;
if
ye
so
thinke
yée
,
are
deceaued
greatly
:
and
ouerlate
it
is
now
to
looke
vnto
that
,
which
yee
woulde
looke
vnto
.
The
bone
is
ouer
muche
hardenned
;
the
wound
is
nowe
growne
to
a
scarre
:
neyther
is
there
nowe
any
remedy
.
Order
should
sooner
haue
beene
taken
with
this
your
straunge
maner
of
coniuration
,
O
foole
,
O
witlesse
Goose
,
doest
thou
not
sée
that
thou
sustainest
both
losse
&
scorne
by
these
innumerable
●ollies
?
And
what
gayne
yée
hereby
?
In
good
fayth
,
nothing
.
Siluerius
hearing
the
wordes
of
his
suttle
wife
,
&
séeyng
his
louing
purpose
like
to
come
to
no
effect
,
determined
against
his
will
,
paciently
to
suffer
this
his
harde
fortune
,
till
death
should
ende
these
his
dolours
.
And
Spinella
séeing
her
husbands
counsel
not
to
preuaile
,
whereas
shée
tooke
an
inche
of
liberty
before
,
tooke
an
Ell
afterwardes
.
For
a
woman
that
is
by
nature
obstinate
,
had
rather
suffer
a
thousand
deathes
,
then
alter
her
setled
determination
.
¶
Maister
Gasparinus
a
Phisition
,
by
his
cunning
,
healeth
fooles
.
THere
dwelt
in
times
past
in
Englande
,
a
very
rich
man
who
had
one
only
sonne
,
called
Gasparinus
,
whom
he
sent
ouer
too
the
vniuersity
of
Padua
,
that
he
might
there
follow
his
studie
:
but
hee
making
no
account
of
learning
,
spent
his
time
in
gaming
and
rioting
,
haunting
brothel
houses
,
and
other
suspected
places
,
leading
the
most
dissolute
life
that
might
be
:
His
father
thinking
that
he
spent
his
time
in
the
study
of
Phisicke
;
he
practized
in
stéed
of
bookes
,
bowles
;
for
disputing
di●ing
;
and
whereas
he
should
haue
attayned
learning
,
he
altogether
frequented
loytring
.
Hauing
remayned
there
the
space
of
fiue
yéeres
,
he
returned
into
his
countrey
and
shewed
by
experience
that
he
had
learned
backwards
,
for
going
about
to
séem
a
Romaine
,
he
manifested
himselfe
to
be
a
Barbarian
;
and
men
noted
him
and
poynted
at
him
,
as
a
common
laughing
stocke
,
in
the
towne
where
he
dwelt
.
What
griefe
it
was
vnto
the
poore
father
to
sée
his
cost
lost
,
and
his
onely
childe
as
it
were
cast
away
,
I
referre
the
consideration
thereof
to
your
discretions
.
Wherfore
for
the
mitigating
of
his
sorowes
,
hée
called
his
sonne
vnto
him
,
and
opening
a
chest
full
of
money
and
iewels
,
layde
forth
vnto
him
the
one
halfe
of
his
goodes
(
which
verily
he
deserued
not
)
&
said
,
Take
here
(
my
sonne
)
thy
portion
of
thy
fathers
hereditamentes
,
&
get
thée
farre
from
me
;
For
I
rather
choose
to
remain
without
a
child
,
then
to
liue
with
thée
in
infamie
.
No
sooner
were
these
words
spoken
,
but
he
most
willingly
obeying
his
fathers
commandement
fingering
the
money
,
tooke
his
leaue
&
departed
.
And
being
farre
distant
from
him
,
at
the
entrance
of
a
wood
néere
a
riuer
,
hée
built
a
costly
&
sumptuous
pallace
,
the
gates
being
of
brasse
,
and
with
this
riuer
it
was
moated
about
.
Herein
with
a
deuice
of
sluces
he
made
certayne
litle
pooles
,
whose
depth
hée
woulde
encrease
or
diminish
at
his
pleasure
.
Into
some
,
the
water
entred
the
depth
of
a
man
;
into
some
other
,
that
it
would
reach
to
his
eyes
;
others
,
vnto
the
nauel
,
some
to
the
middle
,
&
some
to
the
knées
;
&
vnto
euery
of
these
pooles
,
an
yron
chaine
was
fastened
.
Ouer
the
gate
of
this
pallace
was
a
title
written
,
which
sayd
,
A
place
,
wherein
to
heale
fooles
.
The
fame
of
this
pallace
,
in
short
space
,
was
spread
abrode
in
most
places
of
the
world
,
&
fooles
repayred
thither
in
great
abundance
,
to
be
cured
,
but
(
to
speake
more
néerer
the
troth
)
to
bée
washed
.
The
maister
according
to
the
greatnes
of
their
follies
,
would
plundge
them
in
these
pits
,
and
some
of
these
he
would
heale
with
whippings
,
some
with
watching
,
some
with
fasting
,
&
other
some
by
little
&
litle
he
would
restore
to
their
former
estate
,
&
vnderstanding
,
by
the
temperature
&
suttlety
of
the
ayre
.
On
a
time
in
a
large
court
,
without
the
gates
of
this
pallace
,
as
certayne
of
the
meanest
sort
of
these
fooles
,
were
sporting
themselues
in
the
heate
of
the
sunne
,
it
fortuned
that
a
Falconer
came
by
,
which
carried
a
sparhawk
on
his
fist
,
hauing
a
great
number
of
Spaniels
wayting
on
him
.
Who
presently
beyng
espird
by
these
fooles
,
they
maruelled
greatly
what
he
meant
to
ride
with
that
birde
and
spaniels
:
and
one
of
them
demanded
of
him
what
bird
it
was
that
he
carried
on
his
fist
?
He
answered
,
a
Sparhawke
.
And
to
what
end
(
quoth
he
)
doe
yée
kéepe
her
?
(
quoth
the
Gentleman
)
shée
is
a
birde
gréedy
at
her
pray
,
and
I
keepe
her
to
kill
Partridge
with
,
which
is
a
great
bird
,
and
delicate
in
tast
:
these
are
called
spaniels
which
spring
and
retrine
the
birdes
,
&
this
sparhauke
killeth
them
,
and
I
eate
them
.
Quoth
the
●oole
then
:
I
pray
doe
tel
me
what
this
Sparhawke
&
Spaniels
stand
thée
in
?
The
Falconer
made
answeare
,
I
bought
the
horse
that
I
ride
on
,
for
sixe
pound
,
the
Sparhawke
cost
mée
twenty
shillings
,
&
my
Spaniels
thrée
pouud
:
and
the
féeding
and
nourishing
of
all
these
yéerely
,
I
value
at
xx
.
pounds
.
Now
I
beséech
thée
tell
mée
said
the
foole
how
many
Partridges
thou
takest
yéerely
,
and
what
they
bée
woorth
.
I
catch
(
quoth
he
)
about
two
hundred
,
and
they
are
at
the
least
,
woorth
twenty
shillings
.
The
foole
,
but
not
a
foole
herin
,
but
rather
he
shewed
himself
very
wise
,
with
a
loude
voyce
cried
vnto
him
,
fly
,
fly
,
foole
that
thou
art
,
which
spendest
twenty
pound
yéerely
,
for
the
gaining
of
twenty
shillings
,
and
yet
reckonest
not
the
time
,
that
is
vaynely
consumed
.
Fly
with
al
spéede
,
for
the
passion
of
God
,
fly
,
for
if
my
maister
finde
thée
héere
,
he
will
throw
thée
into
a
pitte
,
where
thou
shalt
be
plunged
ouer
head
&
eares
,
&
be
suffered
hardly
to
escape
with
life
.
For
I
which
am
a
f●ole
,
may
discerne
that
thou
art
more
foolish
then
them
which
are
most
foolish
of
all
.
¶
The
Florentines
and
the
Citizens
of
Bergamaske
,
bring
all
their
Doctors
to
a
disputation
,
and
they
of
the
citie
of
Bergamaske
,
with
a
prety
pollicie
confuted
,
and
had
the
victorie
of
the
Florentines
.
IN
times
past
,
it
happened
that
diuers
Merchants
of
Florentine
and
Bergamaske
,
met
:
who
riding
together
(
as
it
often
chanceth
)
had
talk
and
conference
of
diuers
matters
,
and
digressing
from
one
thing
too
another
,
one
of
the
Florentines
sayde
,
Truely
you
of
Bergamaske
(
as
farre
as
I
can
perceiue
)
are
dull
sprited
,
and
men
of
small
capacity
,
and
were
it
not
for
that
litle
traffique
of
merchandise
that
yée
practize
,
for
the
great
grosenesse
and
vnaptnesse
that
is
in
you
,
yée
were
good
for
nothing
.
And
it
comes
to
passe
,
that
yée
haue
prosperous
successe
in
marchandise
,
not
for
any
skil
that
ye
haue
,
or
dexteritie
of
witte
,
but
for
the
greedines
,
and
couetousnes
of
gain
,
that
is
in
you
.
For
I
knowe
not
any
that
may
goe
beyonde
you
,
in
grosenesse
and
blockishnesse
.
Hauing
thus
spoken
,
one
of
the
citie
of
Bergamaske
,
stept
foorth
and
made
him
answere
,
saying
:
And
I
tell
thée
that
we
of
Bergamaske
in
all
poyntes
,
are
able
to
goe
beyond
you
.
And
albéeit
you
Florentines
are
smoothly
tounged
,
&
bring
greater
delight
with
your
fyled
spéech
,
to
the
eares
of
the
hearers
,
then
we
:
neuerthelesse
in
all
other
thinges
yée
are
farre
inferiour
vnto
vs
,
&
if
yée
consider
it
wel
,
there
is
not
one
amongst
vs
,
be
hee
great
or
litle
,
but
hath
some
smacke
in
learning
;
and
herewith
we
are
apt
to
euery
couragious
enterprise
,
which
is
not
found
in
you
,
or
if
it
bée
,
it
is
in
very
few
of
you
.
The
contention
growing
to
bée
very
great
,
both
of
the
one
side
,
and
the
other
,
they
of
the
Citie
of
Bergamaske
not
entending
to
yéeld
vnto
the
Florentines
,
nor
the
Florentines
to
them
,
euery
one
defending
his
owne
side
with
great
stoutnesse
,
one
of
Bergamaske
stoode
vp
,
and
saide
.
To
what
end
are
all
these
wordes
?
Let
vs
make
proofe
of
it
by
déedes
.
Let
a
solemne
disputation
be
appoynted
,
wherat
the
flowre
of
learning
,
and
doctors
may
méete
,
and
then
shall
it
manifestly
bée
séene
,
which
of
vs
is
most
excellent
.
Héerevnto
the
Florentines
yéelded
their
consent
:
but
this
was
the
difference
;
whether
the
Florentines
should
go
to
Bergamaske
,
or
they
of
Bergamask
to
Florence
.
After
many
words
,
it
was
concluded
that
they
should
cast
lots
.
And
it
so
fel
out
,
the
the
Florentines
must
go
to
the
Cittie
of
Bergamaske
.
The
day
of
disputation
was
nominated
to
bée
in
the
moneth
of
May
.
The
Merchantes
returned
to
their
Cities
;
and
acquainted
their
Doctors
,
and
other
learned
men
what
match
they
had
made●
who
vnderstanding
the
matter
,
were
very
well
pleased
,
and
made
prouision
for
a
gallant
and
long
disputation
.
They
of
the
Towne
of
Bergamaske
,
as
wise
and
subtill
men
,
determined
to
worke
so
,
that
the
Florentines
should
remaine
both
confuted
and
scorned
.
Wherefore
all
the
most
learned
men
of
the
Citie
being
assembled
,
as
well
Grammarians
as
Rhetoricians
;
and
wel
common
lawieres
,
as
Canonistes
,
as
well
Philosophers
,
as
diuines
,
and
Doctours
and
maisters
of
all
other
sortes
whatsoeuer
,
they
made
choyce
of
the
chiefest
of
them
,
and
retained
them
in
theyr
Citie
,
that
they
might
bée
their
rocke
and
sortresse
in
theyr
disputation
against
the
Florentines
.
The
others
being
apparelled
in
course
and
ragged
apparell
,
against
the
day
of
the
disputations
,
they
sent
forth
of
the
Citie
,
towardes
that
parte
where
the
Florentines
must
néedes
come
.
And
charge
was
giuen
,
that
they
should
speake
nothing
vnto
them
but
Latine
.
These
Doctors
being
thus
attirde
in
clownish
apparell
,
and
intermixt
amongst
them
,
of
pollicie
,
they
set
handes
vnto
diuers
exercises
:
some
digged
ditches
,
some
caryed
wood
,
and
some
did
one
thing
,
and
some
an
other
.
These
Doctors
of
Bergamaske
remayning
in
these
exercises
,
and
seeming
to
bée
clownes
,
beholde
the
Florentine
Doctors
came
ryding
by
with
great
pompe
,
who
séeing
these
labourers
,
sayde
vnto
them
,
God
saue
you
brethren
.
To
whome
the
clownes
answered
in
latine
,
Benè
veniant
tanti
viri
.
The
Florentines
thinking
that
they
iested
,
demaunded
how
many
miles
it
was
to
the
Citie
of
Bergamaske
:
to
whome
the
Clownes
answered
,
decem
,
vel
circa
.
The
Florentines
hearing
this
aunswere
;
vnto
them
.
O
brethren
,
wée
speake
vnto
you
,
in
your
mother
tongue
,
and
from
whence
comes
it
,
that
you
aunswere
vs
in
latine
?
They
of
Bergamaske
replyed
:
Ne
miremini
,
excellentissimi
Domini
,
vnusquisque
enim
nostrûm
,
sic
vt
auditis
loquitur
,
quoniam
Maiores
&
sapientes
nostri
sic
nos
docuerunt
.
Riding
on
their
iourney
a
good
distaunce
off
,
they
saw
other
clownes
,
which
in
the
broad
wayes
clensed
diches
:
and
staying
,
sayde
vnto
them
.
Hoe
companions
,
God
spéede
you
:
to
whome
they
aunswered
:
Et
Deus
vobiscum
semper
sit
.
How
farre
is
it
to
Bergamaske
?
saide
the
Florentines
.
The
other
aunswered
,
Exigua
vobis
restat
via
.
And
entring
from
one
worde
to
another
,
they
beganne
at
length
to
reason
in
Philosophy
,
and
these
clownes
of
Bergamaske
framed
their
arguments
so
strongly
and
profoundly
,
that
the
Florentine
Doctors
were
scarse
able
to
aunswere
them
.
At
which
all
of
them
wondring
,
saide
amongst
themselues
:
How
is
it
possible
,
that
these
clownish
men
,
brought
vp
in
digging
of
the
ground
,
and
other
rusticall
exercises
,
should
bée
so
well
instructed
in
humane
sciences
?
Departing
from
them
,
they
road
towardes
an
inne
,
not
farre
distant
from
the
Citie
,
which
was
fayre
and
large
.
As
they
came
somewhat
néere
it
,
an
Ostler
came
forth
to
inuite
them
,
saying
:
Domini
,
libèt
ne
vobis
hospitari
?
Hîc
enim
vobis
erit
bonum
hospitium
.
And
for
that
the
Florentines
were
very
weary
,
they
alighted
,
and
meant
to
ryde
no
farther
that
night
.
As
they
were
mounting
vp
the
stayres
to
goe
to
their
lodging
,
the
goodman
of
the
Inne
met
them
,
saying
:
Excellentissimi
Domini
,
placétne
vobis
,
vt
praeparetur
coena
?
híc
enim
sunt
bona
vina
,
oua
recentia
,
carnes
,
volatilia
,
&
alia
huiusmodi
.
Heereat
the
Florentines
were
amased
,
and
knew
not
what
to
say
:
for
that
all
they
,
with
whome
they
had
spéech
,
spake
latine
,
and
pronounced
no
otherwise
,
then
if
they
had
béene
brought
vp
in
studie
all
the
dayes
of
their
lyfe
.
Shortly
after
a
maide
seruaunt
,
indéed●
came
vnto
them
,
which
was
a
young
woman
,
both
wittie
and
learned
,
and
craftily
brought
thither
for
the
purpose
,
which
sayde
.
Indigéntne
dominationes
vestrae
re
aliqua
?
placét
vt
sternentur
lectuli
,
vt
requiem
capiatis
?
These
wordes
of
the
Maiden
brought
greater
astonishment
to
the
Florentines
,
who
began
to
reason
with
her
,
who
hauing
answered
to
many
thinges
excéedingly
well
,
(
and
all
in
latine
)
they
questioned
with
her
of
diuinitie
,
of
which
shée
did
argue
so
catholiquely
,
that
there
was
not
any
that
heard
her
,
but
gaue
her
singular
commendation
.
Whiles
the
Maiden
talked
with
them
,
there
came
one
in
,
arayde
like
a
baker
,
his
face
blackt
with
coales
:
who
hearing
the
disputation
that
they
had
with
the
Maiden
,
began
to
argue
in
her
defence
,
and
interpreted
the
holy
scriptures
so
learnedly
,
that
al
the
Florentine
doctors
affirmed
amongst
themselues
,
that
they
had
seldome
or
neuer
heard
his
better
.
This
d●sputation
being
finisht
,
the
Florentine
Doctors
went
to
supper
,
and
so
to
their
rest
.
And
the
next
day
approching
,
they
tooke
counsell
amongst
themselues
,
whether
it
were
better
to
goe
forwards
,
or
returne
home
againe
.
After
great
contention
had
about
this
matter
,
they
resolued
,
that
it
was
better
to
departe
,
thinking
thus
with
themselues
,
that
if
the
Inkéepers
,
labourers
,
hostlers
,
&
women
had
such
profound
learning
:
what
was
to
bée
looked
for
in
the
Citie
,
where
are
most
excellent
men
,
which
continually
followe
nothing
els
but
their
bookes
and
studie
.
This
determination
being
well
considered
of
,
without
any
longer
tariaunce
,
they
put
it
in
practise
.
And
not
as
much
as
séeing
the
walles
of
the
Citie
of
Bergamaske
,
taking
their
horses
,
tooke
their
iourney
backe
againe
towardes
Florence
.
And
in
this
maner
,
the
Florentines
were
by
pollicie
conquered
of
them
of
Bergamaske
.
And
from
thence
forwards
the
Citizens
of
Bergamaske
had
a
priuiledge
from
the
Emperour
,
to
passe
safely
through
all
the
partes
of
the
world
,
without
th●
let
or
disturbance
of
any
man
.
Of
one
that
hyred
a
foolish
seruaunt
,
and
was
serued
accordingly
.
PAndolfus
a
Gentleman
of
Padua
,
on
a
time
standing
greatly
in
néede
of
a
ser●●iant
,
chaunced
to
méete
with
one
,
wh●
he
thought
would
well
serue
his
turne
:
of
whom
hée
demaunded
,
whether
he
would
serue
him
for
resonable
wages
,
who
made
aunswere
that
hée
would
:
but
with
this
condition
,
that
hée
would
at
no
time
doe
him
any
other
seruice
,
but
looke
to
his
horses
,
and
ride
with
him
.
Héereon
they
concluded
,
and
there
were
Indentures
of
couenants
drawn
,
sealed
,
and
deliuered
for
the
performance
of
the
premisses
.
It
happened
on
a
certaine
day
that
Pandolfus
,
as
hée
rode
with
his
new
seruant
,
in
a
filthy
mirie
way
,
his
horse
stumbling
,
fell
into
a
ditch
,
and
Padolfus
vnder
him
:
who
being
in
great
feare
and
daunger
,
cryed
vnto
his
man
for
helpe
.
His
seruaunt
standing
still
,
gaue
him
the
looking
on
,
saying
that
he●
was
not
bound
to
doe
it
,
and
that
there
was
no
such
thing
contained
in
his
Indenture
of
couenaunt
,
and
taking
the
copie
thereof
out
of
his
pocket
,
beganne
from
poynt
to
point
to
reade
the
conditions
of
it
,
to
sée
whether
it
were
therein
contained
,
or
no
,
that
hée
should
helpe
him
in
such
a
i●operdie
.
His
maister
cryed
out
vnto
him
,
saying
,
For
the
passion
of
God
helpe
mée
.
Hée
answered
,
I
cannot
sir
:
for
that
it
is
agaynst
the
couenantes
of
my
Indenture
.
His
maister
tolde
him
,
that
if
hée
would
not
helpe
him
,
and
deliuer
him
out
of
this
daunger
,
hée
woulde
not
pay
him
such
wages
,
as
was
therein
contained
hée
should
haue
.
The
foolishe
seruaunt
sayde
that
hée
would
not
doe
it
,
for
feare
of
incurring
the
penaltie
contained
in
the
Indenture
of
couenaunt
.
And
if
his
maister
had
not
béene
presently
holpen
by
one
that
came
that
way
,
doubtlesse
hée
could
neuer
haue
escaped
.
For
this
cause
,
after
their
returne
home
,
there
were
new
couenantes
drawne
,
vnto
which
hée
yeelded
his
consent
,
vnder
a
certaine
forfeiture
,
to
performe
and
obserue
them
truely
:
which
was
,
that
hée
should
assist
his
maister
at
all
times
;
in
all
causes
that
hée
commaunded
him
,
and
shoulde
neuer
departe
or
seperate
himselfe
from
him
.
It
chaunced
on
a
time
,
that
Pandolfus
entring
into
one
of
the
chiefest
Churches
of
the
Citie
,
with
certaine
Venetian
Gentlemen
,
his
seruaunt
alwayes
folowed
him
at
his
shoulders
,
and
would
neuer
leaue
him
.
The
Gentlemen
and
other
that
were
by
,
for
the
rarenes
of
the
sight
,
tooke
vp
a
great
laughter
,
through
which
the
maister
returning
to
his
house
,
chidde
him
bitterly
,
shewing
him
what
a
foolish
and
vnaduised
part
hée
plaied
,
in
walking
so
childishly
with
him
,
in
the
Church
,
without
any
respect
,
either
of
him
,
or
the
Gentlemen
that
were
with
him
.
The
seruaunt
alledged
vnto
him
,
that
hée
had
not
done
contrary
to
the
couenantes
that
were
drawne
betwixt
them
,
and
had
fulfilled
the
contents
therof
and
no
more
.
Vpon
this
there
was
a
new
couenant
put
in
,
that
hée
should
goe
farther
of
from
him
.
After
that
time
the
seruant
would
kéepe
himselfe
aloofe
,
and
not
come
néere
him
by
fortie
foote
,
at
the
least
.
And
although
his
maister
called
him
,
and
had
néede
to
vse
him
:
Neuerthelesse
,
his
seruaunt
would
not
for
feare
of
incurring
the
penaltie
contained
in
the
Indentures
.
Heereat
Pandolphus
fretting
a
good
at
the
folly
,
and
simplicity
of
his
man
;
told
him
that
his
comming
farther
of
him
,
was
to
bée
vnderstoode
about
a
thrée
foote
distant
The
seruant
thinking
himselfe
now
too
be
apparauntly
aduertised
of
his
maisters
meaning
,
tooke
a
staffe
of
the
length
of
thrée
foote
,
and
as
hée
went
in
the
citie
,
would
set
one
end
therof
against
his
brest
,
and
holding
the
other
towardes
his
maisters
shoulders
,
so
followed
him
.
The
Citizens
,
&
Prentises
,
seyng
him
to
goe
in
this
order
,
déeming
him
to
bee
some
notable
foole
,
did
laugh
at
him
vnmeasurably
.
The
maister
as
yet
not
knowing
wherfore
they
so
laught
,
maruelled
greatly
,
but
being
afterwards
aduertised
how
he
carried
the
staffe
after
him
,
he
was
in
a
great
rage
,
reprehending
his
seruant
vehemently
,
threatning
also
to
beat
him
.
And
he
weeping
and
lamenting
,
excused
himselfe
,
saying
,
yée
doe
me
manifest
iniury
,
Maister
,
in
going
about
to
beate
me
;
made
I
not
a
bargaine
with
you
?
haue
I
not
obserued
all
the
couenants
?
When
did
I
any
thing
contrary
to
that
you
willed
me
?
reade
the
Indenture
,
and
then
punish
me
if
I
haue
fayled
in
any
thing
.
And
thus
his
maister
could
neuer
iustly
take
him
at
any
aduauntage
.
At
another
time
his
maister
sent
him
to
the
Market
,
to
buy
meate
,
and
speaking
figuratiuely
vnto
him
;
saide
;
Goe
thy
way
,
and
let
it
be
a
yéere
ere
yée
come
agayne
:
meaning
that
he
should
make
spéed
.
The
seruant
ouer
obedient
to
his
maister
,
went
into
his
Country
and
there
tarried
till
the
yéere
was
expired
;
and
within
one
day
after
came
home
:
&
brought
the
meate
with
him
to
his
maister
,
who
maruelling
thereat
greatly
;
hauing
forgotten
what
he
gaue
him
in
commandement
to
doe
,
rebuked
him
as
a
Runaway
;
saying
:
yée
are
come
somewhat
too
late
,
that
the
gallowes
take
you
.
But
I
wil
reward
thée
according
to
thy
desertes
knaue
and
varlet
,
that
thou
art
;
and
thou
shalt
bée
sure
to
pay
the
penalty
that
thou
hast
forfeyted
,
and
gettest
not
one
peny
of
wages
of
me
.
The
seruaunt
answered
that
he
had
not
swarued
from
any
one
couenant
contained
in
his
Indenture
:
but
had
obserued
them
all
,
and
had
obeyed
him
in
euery
thing
that
hée
commaunded
.
Call
yée
to
minde
maister
(
said
hée
)
that
whiles
yée
willed
mée
to
tary
a
yeere
,
ere
I
came
againe
:
I
haue
done
so
:
and
therfore
pay
mée
my
wages
that
yée
promised
mee
.
And
héere
vpon
they
waged
the
lawe
,
and
in
conclusion
the
mayster
was
constrained
to
pay
him
his
wages
,
whether
hée
would
,
or
no.
THere
dwelt
in
the
Citie
of
Ferrara
,
an
excéeding
rich
man
,
and
of
a
worshipfull
house
,
who
had
a
seruaunt
called
Fortunius
,
a
young
man
of
no
great
witte
.
It
chaunced
that
his
maister
on
a
time
sitting
asléepe
in
his
orchard
,
in
the
extreme
heat
of
the
sunne
,
Fortunius
hauing
a
bush
of
fethers
,
kept
of
the
flyes
from
his
maister
,
the
hée
might
take
his
rest
the
more
quietly
.
Amongst
the
other
flyes
,
there
was
one
so
importunate
,
that
not
waying
the
bush
of
fethers
,
wherewith
shée
was
striken
,
often
,
with
her
sharpe
sting
would
neuer
lin
byting
the
balde
pate
of
his
maister
,
and
hauing
béene
thrée
or
foure
times
to
anoye
him
,
would
still
prf●er
to
come
againe
.
In
fine
Fortunius
noting
the
malapert
presumption
of
the
beast
,
not
being
able
any
longer
to
forbeare
her
,
very
vnaduisedly
determined
to
kill
her
.
And
the
flye
sitting
on
the
balde
pate
of
his
maister
sucking
out
his
blood
Fortunius
like
a
simple
and
ignoraunt
sette
,
tooke
a
weightie
pestle
of
brasse
that
by
chaunce
lay
some
what
too
néere
him
;
and
lifting
it
vp
with
great
force
with
intent
to
kil
the
fly
,
knockt
out
the
braines
of
his
maister
.
He
séeing
his
maister
to
bée
●●aine
in
déede
,
and
thinking
that
hée
should
bée
hangd
for
it
,
determined
to
runne
away
,
and
saue
himselfe
by
flight
:
But
altering
this
his
purpose
,
hée
thought
it
better
to
burie
him
in
some
secrete
place
,
and
putting
him
into
a
sacke
,
did
so
.
And
then
taking
a
great
hée
Goat
of
his
maisters
,
flong
him
into
a
well
,
that
stoode
néere
the
Orchard
where
he
slept
.
The
goodman
not
comming
in
at
night
,
as
hée
was
accustomed
,
began
to
thinke
euill
of
the
seruaunt
,
and
demanding
of
him
for
her
husband
,
hée
made
answere
,
that
hée
saw
him
not
.
Then
the
good
wife
being
very
sorowfull
,
beganne
to
wéepe
bitterly
,
and
with
a
skriking
voyce
,
called
her
husband
,
but
all
in
vaine
.
Her
parents
and
kinsfolkes
séeing
that
the
good
man
could
not
bée
found
,
went
to
the
Mayor
of
the
Citie
,
and
there
accused
Fortunius
the
feruaunt
,
saying
,
that
hée
should
bée
committed
to
prison
,
and
so
to
be
had
on
the
racke
,
there
to
bée
made
to
confesse
,
what
was
become
of
his
maister
.
The
Mayor
presently
caused
him
to
bée
taken
,
and
bound
,
and
vpon
presumptions
committed
him
to
the
racke
.
The
seruaunt
not
being
able
to
abyde
the
torment
thereof
,
promised
to
manifest
the
whole
:
so
that
hée
myght
bée
let
downe
,
and
being
taken
downe
,
and
had
before
the
Mayor
,
with
a
craftie
disceate
,
hée
sayde
,
as
foloweth
.
Yesterday
,
as
I
was
asléepe
in
the
orcharde
,
and
sodenly
a
great
noyse
awaked
mée
,
which
séemed
,
as
though
some
great
stone
had
falne
into
the
well
.
I
being
astouied
thereat
,
ranne
sodeinly
thither
,
and
looking
into
the
water
,
saw
it
quiet
and
still
,
so
that
I
sought
no
farther
:
whiles
I
returned
,
I
heard
an
other
lyke
noyse
,
&
I
stayde
.
And
I
verily
thinke
it
was
my
maister
,
who
being
about
to
draw
some
water
,
fell
into
the
well
.
But
for
that
the
troath
may
bée
knowne
of
the
matter
,
let
vs
al
go
thither
,
and
I
wil
discend
into
the
well
to
sée
whether
that
it
bée
true
or
no
,
which
I
gather
by
presumptions
.
The
Mayor
desirors
to
make
proof
of
the
troth
hereof
,
called
all
his
brethren
with
him
,
and
with
diuers
other
Gentlemen
came
to
the
well
.
And
with
them
went
a
great
company
of
the
common
sort
of
people
,
both
men
and
women
,
being
desirous
to
sée
the
issue
of
this
matter
.
And
behold
as
the
wicked
fellow
by
the
commandement
of
the
Maior
descended
into
the
well
,
&
sought
for
his
maister
in
the
water
,
he
found
the
goate
which
he
had
before
throwne
therinto
,
and
ther
with
cried
out
to
his
mistresse
,
(
which
was
amongest
the
rest
of
the
company
)
saying
,
hoe
,
mistres
;
tel
me
,
had
your
husband
any
hornes
?
I
haue
found
one
here
in
this
well
,
which
hath
a
payre
both
greate
and
long
,
was
hee
euer
your
husband
?
she
being
surprised
with
these
spéeches
,
said
neuer
a
words
.
The
Maior
with
all
the
rest
of
the
company
stoode
still
,
beeyng
very
desirous
to
sée
the
dead
body
,
which
being
drawen
vp
,
when
they
perceaued
that
it
was
a
Goate
,
they
made
such
excéeding
ioy
,
that
they
were
like
to
breake
insunder
with
laughter
.
And
the
Maior
seing
the
chance
,
adiudged
the
seruant
to
be
trusty
,
and
released
him
as
innocent
,
and
it
was
neuer
known
what
became
of
his
maister
;
and
the
good
wife
with
the
scorne
of
the
horne
,
remayned
defamed
euer
after
.
¶
To
the
Worshipfull
John
Stafford
of
Bletherwicke
Esquier
,
Humfrey
Gifford
most
humbly
sendeth
greeting
.
ACknowledging
my selfe
deepely
indebted
to
your
woorshippe
for
your
professed
curtesies
,
&
good
opinion
conceaued
of
me
,
&
desiring
by
some
one
meanes
or
other
to
make
manifest
my
thankfull
minde
,
I
haue
aduentured
the
dedication
of
this
trifling
toy
,
vnto
your
protection
,
notdoubting
of
your
fauourable
acceptance
,
in
that
I
bestow
it
as
an
earnest
pennie
of
my
wel
meaning
,
and
testimonie
of
the
vnfaigned
goodwil
that
I
beare
you
.
The
thing
that
I
here
present
you
with
,
is
a
posie
of
Gillowflowers
collected
out
of
the
garden
of
mine
owne
inuentions
.
Which
if
they
shal
come
too
short
in
shew
and
colour
,
or
proue
inferiour
in
sent
and
odour
to
that
which
is
to
be
looked
for
of
so
fragrant
a
flower
,
let
the
Gardiner
(
I
pray
you
)
be
excused
,
who
hath
done
his
goodwill
and
indeuour
in
the
sowing
,
&
setting
of
them
,
and
lay
the
fault
in
the
barrennesse
of
the
soyle
,
wherein
they
were
planted
:
which
had
it
byn
better
,
their
vertue
would
haue
proued
to
be
greater
.
Though
al
the
flowers
herein
contayned
,
carie
one
name
,
yet
eche
of
thé
differs
from
other
,
both
in
colour
and
sauour
,
the
better
to
satisfie
the
diuersitie
of
eyes
that
shall
view
them
,
and
variety
of
noses
that
shall
smell
them
.
Nowe
if
the
spider
shall
happen
to
sucke
any
poyson
out
of
them
,
let
not
the
flowers
be
the
worse
thought
of
,
but
consider
that
it
is
his
propertie
to
doe
the
like
,
out
of
the
most
pure
and
delectable
flowers
,
that
euer
were
.
And
God
in
geuing
vnto
her
and
other
such
like
creatures
this
nature
,
doeth
no
lesse
manifest
his
omnipotent
power
herein
,
then
in
his
other
wonderful
works
.
For
reason
telleth
,
&
experience
teacheth
,
that
in
this
vale
of
misery
,
there
is
nothing
so
beautifull
,
but
that
it
hath
some
blemish
;
nor
so
pure
,
but
that
it
sauours
of
some
imperfection
:
so
that
as
long
as
the
world
is
a
world
,
corruption
must
continue
amongst
vs
.
Which
filthy
dregs
&
poysoned
humors
,
if
they
were
not
in
parte
drawen
&
drayned
away
by
the
venomous
beastes
and
wormes
of
the
earth
,
they
woulde
a
great
deale
more
annoy
vs
,
then
now
they
doe
.
And
it
is
to
be
doubted
whether
life
could
any
long
time
be
conserued
a
mogst
vs
.
I
might
here
take
occasion
to
liken
the
crew
of
curious
carpers
(
which
more
of
malice
then
good
meaning
accustomed
to
cauel
at
other
mens
doings
,
playing
the
ydle
drones
themselues
)
to
the
venomous
beastes
&
wormes
before
spoken
of
:
Whom
for
their
congruity
in
condition
,
and
affinity
in
disposition
I
might
bring
them
within
the
compas
of
one
comparison
,
&
conclude
that
both
the
one
&
the
other
are
necessary
euils
.
But
leste
that
the
old
prouerb
be
obiected
agaynst
me
,
Ne
sutor
vltra
crepitam
,
let
the
Gardiner
meddle
no
farther
than
his
spade
,
I
wil
leaue
them
to
theyr
predecessor
Zoilus
(
whose
apes
they
are
in
imitating
his
conditions
)
&
returne
agayne
to
my
Gillowflowers
,
eft
foones
beseeching
your
worship
to
accept
those
that
I
present
you
with
no
lesse
thankfulnes
then
the
Gardiner
doth
offer
them
willingly
,
wherof
he
doubtes
not
,
calling
to
minde
your
accustomed
curtesie
.
In
one
thing
I
haue
vsed
suche
circumspection
as
my
simple
skill
,
would
permit
me
,
which
is
that
the
beauty
of
my
flowers
be
not
blemished
with
the
weedes
of
wantonnesse
,
that
commonly
grow
in
such
gardens
.
I
hope
therfore
,
ye
shal
finde
them
rooted
out
in
such
sort
,
that
if
there
remayne
any
,
my
trust
is
they
shall
not
fall
out
,
to
be
many
.
The
onely
thing
that
I
doubt
of
this
in
my
dedication
,
is
that
your
worshipp
shall
haue
cause
to
account
mee
a
deepe
dissembler
and
one
that
hath
byn
more
lauish
in
promise
,
then
he
is
able
to
pay
with
performance
.
For
whereas
by
my
former
speeches
,
yee
might
peraduenture
looke
for
some
delicate
Gillowflowers
,
it
will
fall
out
to
be
but
a
coppy
of
my
countenance
,
hauing
done
nothing
els
,
but
(
as
the
fashion
of
the
worlde
is
now
adayes
)
set
a
good
face
on
a
bad
matter
.
For
(
to
deale
plainly
with
you
)
I
was
neuer
Gardiner
in
all
my
life
.
And
the
thing
that
I
here
present
you
with
,
is
but
a
collection
of
such
verses
and
odde
deuises
as
haue
(
at
such
idle
howres
as
I
founde
in
my
maister
his
seruice
)
vpon
sundry
occasions
by
me
byn
composed
.
The
one
I
confesse
farre
vnworthy
your
view
,
and
yet
such
as
when
ye
shal
returne
home
weeried
from
your
fielde
sportes
,
may
yeelde
you
some
recreation
.
The
chiefe
marke
that
I
leuel
at
is
,
the
continuance
of
your
woorships
curtesie
and
good
minde
towardes
me
,
which
as
they
haue
already
surmounted
the
reach
of
my
deserts
,
so
if
I
might
enioy
the
fruition
of
them
hereafter
,
in
that
fulnesse
which
I
hope
for
,
I
shall
account
all
the
duetifull
endeuour
that
I
can
possibly
shew
you
insufficient
,
for
the
satisfaction
of
the
least
part
of
them
.
Thus
for
feare
of
being
tedious
,
I
ende
,
wishing
your
worship
,
with
my
good
mistres
your
wife
&
all
yours
many
yeeres
of
prosperitie
,
with
dayly
increase
of
worship
,
&
heauen
for
your
hauen
to
rest
in
,
when
the
daungerous
sea
of
this
life
shal
be
ouer
sailed
.
Yours
in
all
dutifulnesse
,
HG
.
D
DOe
guide
my
pathes
,
O
Lorde
my
God
,
T
that
I
walke
not
astray
:
O
O
who
can
mount
thy
holy
hill
,
E
Except
thou
leade
the
way
?
R
Renew
me
with
such
grace
,
that
I
M
May
learne
thy
lawes
aright
:
O
Order
my
steppes
,
so
shal
I
be
P
Preserued
day
and
night
.
T
The
wicked
Serpent
euery
houre
,
E
Endeuours
me
to
spil
:
H
Haste
to
my
helpe
,
so
shall
I
,
Lorde
,
R
Right
well
eschew
the
il
.
Y
In
thee
I
put
mine
onely
trust
,
A
Assist
me
then
at
neede
.
S
Stand
on
my
side
;
but
thee
alone
,
N
None
els
my
sute
can
speede
.
A
Amidst
the
sea
of
sinne
and
death
,
C
Continually
we
ride
,
M
Making
still
shipwracke
of
our
soules
,
E
except
thou
be
our
guide
.
V
Vnto
the
Lorde
with
humble
sute
,
I
I
lift
my
heart
and
handes
:
E
Encline
thine
eares
to
my
request
,
V
Vnlose
my
sinfull
bandes
.
L
Let
not
vile
Satans
crafty
traynes
,
S
So
sore
our
soules
assayle
:
D
Doe
thou
protect
vs
with
thy
shield
,
T
Then
shal
he
not
preuayle
.
A
As
to
a
Rocke
of
safe
refuge
,
I
I
stil
to
thee
doe
fly
.
N
None
els
there
is
I
know
,
that
can
C
Cause
al
my
sinnes
to
die
.
I
I
doe
confesse
my
force
is
weake
,
E
Encrease
my
fayth
(
O
Lorde
)
E
Expel
from
meal
heresies
,
P Protect
me
with
thy
worde
.
L
Let
not
the
fiende
that
seekes
my
foyle
,
R
Reioyce
at
my
decay
,
D
Doe
make
mee
strong
in
liuely
fayth
.
V
Vnto
thee
still
I
pray
.
A
All
trueth
,
al
good
and
godly
deedes
,
D
Doe
still
proceede
from
thee
:
N
No
man
can
thinke
one
holy
thought
,
E
Except
their
guide
thou
bee
.
V
Vnlesse
thou
Lord
doe
giue
increase
,
N
No
fruite
our
deedes
bring
forth
.
E
Esteemd
we
are
as
rotten
weedes
,
C
Corrupt
and
nothing
worth
.
R
Remember
not
my
sinnes
forepast
,
E
Eluminate
my
wayes
:
S
So
shall
I
still
with
heart
and
voyce
,
G
Giue
thee
all
laud
and
prayes
.
H
Happy
are
they
that
doe
thee
serue
,
I
In
thought
and
eke
in
deede
:
V
Vnturned
neuer
is
thy
face
,
F
From
them
in
time
of
neede
.
M
Make
Lord
in
mee
a
stedfast
fayth
,
F
For
euer
to
abyde
.
F
Frame
still
my
lyfe
to
keepe
thy
lawes
,
A
And
I
shall
neuer
slide
.
R
Remoue
from
me
all
errors
blockes
,
R
Right
so
shall
I
remaine
.
I
In
perfect
footesteppes
of
thy
paths
,
D
Deuoyde
of
worldly
paine
.
To
his
approued
friend
.
SErue
God
SErue
God
thy
Lord
,
delight
to
kéepe
his
lawes
.
alwaies
.
Alwayes
,
haue
care
to
doe
his
holy
hest
.
Commit
Commit
not
that
which
may
his
anger
cause
.
no
euil
,
No
euill
,
then
(
déere
friend
)
can
thée
molest
.
Still
feare
Still
feare
and
minde
the
dreadfull
iudgement
day
.
to
sinne
,
To
sinne
,
bréedes
death
,
but
mercie
doe
require
,
defie
Defie
such
thinges
,
as
worke
thy
soules
decay
;
the
diuell
.
The
diuel
,
so
shall
léese
his
chiefe
desire
.
If
thou
If
thou
,
wilt
spend
thy
dayes
in
great
content
.
praise
God
Praise
God
,
ech
houre
,
serue
him
in
feare
and
dread
,
with
hearte
With
heart
contrite
thy
former
sinnes
lament
.
and
minde
,
And
minde
,
hence
forth
a
better
life
to
lead
Great
ioyes
Great
ioyes
the
Lord
(
as
his
pure
word
doth
say
)
in
heauen
In
heauen
,
aboue
,
for
good
men
hath
preparde
,
thy
soule
Thy
soule
when
that
this
life
shall
passe
away
,
shall
finde
.
Shall
finde
such
blisse
,
as
cannot
bée
declarde
.
The
life
of
man
metaphorically
compared
to
a
shippe
,
sayling
on
the
seaes
in
a
tempest
.
HAste
homewardes
,
man
,
draw
néerer
to
the
shore
,
The
skies
doe
scowle
,
the
windes
doe
blow
amaine
:
The
raged
rockes
,
with
rumbling
noyse
doe
rore
,
The
foggie
clowdes
doe
threaten
stormes
of
raine
.
Ech
thing
foreshewes
a
tempest
is
at
hand
,
Hoyst
vp
thy
sayles
,
and
haste
to
happy
land
.
In
worldly
seaes
thy
silly
ship
is
tost
:
With
waues
of
woe
besette
on
euery
side
,
Blowne
héere
,
and
there
,
in
daunger
to
bée
lost
:
Darke
clowdes
of
sinne
doe
cause
thée
wander
wide
,
Vnlesse
thy
God
pitie
some
on
thée
take
,
On
rockes
of
rueth
,
thou
néedes
must
shipwrack
make
.
Cut
downe
the
mast
of
rancour
and
debate
,
Vnfraight
the
shippe
of
all
vnlawfull
wares
:
Cast
ouer
boorde
the
packes
of
hoorded
hate
,
Pumpe
out
fowle
vice
,
the
cause
of
many
cares
.
If
that
some
léeke
,
it
make
thée
stand
in
doubt
,
Repentaunce
serues
,
to
stoppe
the
water
out
.
Let
Gods
pure
word
thy
line
and
compasse
bée
,
And
stedfast
fayth
vse
,
thou
in
anckors
stéede
:
Lament
thy
sinnes
,
then
shalt
thou
shortly
sée
,
That
power
diuine
,
will
helpe
thée
forth
at
néede
.
Fell
Sathan
is
chiefe
rular
of
these
seas
:
Hée
séekes
our
wracke
,
hée
doth
these
tempestes
rayse
.
In
what
wée
may
let
vs
alwayes
represse
,
The
furious
waues
of
lust
and
fond
desire
:
A
quiet
calme
our
conscience
shall
possesse
,
if
wée
doe
that
which
dutie
doeth
require
:
By
godly
life
in
fine
obtaine
wée
shall
,
the
porte
of
blisse
,
to
which
God
send
vs
all
.
A
dolefull
Dumpe
WHo
so
doth
mone
,
and
lackes
a
mate
,
to
bée
partaker
of
his
woe
,
And
will
discourse
of
his
estate
,
Let
him
and
I
together
goe
:
And
I
will
make
him
graunt
in
fine
,
his
griefe
to
bée
farre
lesse
then
mine
.
Perhappes
hée
wil
,
to
win
the
best
,
paint
forth
what
pangs
oppresse
his
minde
,
How
that
hée
féeles
no
quiet
rest
:
how
fortune
is
to
him
vnkind
:
And
how
hée
pines
in
secréet
griefe
,
and
findes
no
meanes
for
his
reliefe
.
These
and
such
like
a
number
will
,
alleadge
to
witnes
their
distresse
,
Some
rolle
vp
stones
against
the
hill
▪
with
Sisiphus
;
some
eke
expresse
,
That
like
to
Tantalus
they
fare
,
and
some
with
Yxion
doe
compare
.
But
I
not
onely
féele
the
smart
,
of
al
those
euilles
rehearsed
before
:
But
tast
the
forment
in
my
heart
,
of
thousand
times
as
many
more
:
So
that
the
worst
of
their
annoyes
,
Is
best
and
chiefest
of
my
ioyes
.
I
neuer
fed
on
costly
meate
,
Since
that
this
griefe
opprest
mée
first
:
Dole
is
the
dainties
that
I
eate
,
And
trickling
teares
doe
coole
my
thirst
:
Care
is
my
caruing
knife
,
God
wot
,
Which
dayly
séekes
to
cut
my
throte
.
Muse
not
that
héere
I
secret
kéepe
The
cause
that
first
procurde
my
griefe
:
What
doeth
it
boote
a
man
to
wéepe
,
When
that
his
teares
finde
no
reliefe
?
Contentes
mée
onely
,
this
repose
,
That
death
ere
long
will
end
my
woes
.
In
praise
of
the
contented
minde
.
IF
all
the
ioyes
that
worldly
wightes
possesse
,
Were
throughly
scand
,
and
pondred
in
their
kindes
,
No
man
of
wit
,
but
iustly
must
confesse
,
That
they
ioy
most
,
that
haue
contented
mindes
.
And
other
ioyes
,
which
beare
the
name
of
ioyes
,
Are
not
right
ioyes
,
but
sunneshines
of
anoyes
.
In
outward
view
wée
sée
a
number
glad
,
Which
make
a
shew
,
as
if
mirth
did
abound
:
When
pinching
grief
within
doth
make
them
sad
.
And
many
a
one
in
these
dayes
may
bée
had
,
Which
faintly
smile
to
shroud
their
sorowes
so
,
When
oftentimes
they
pine
in
secréet
woe
.
But
euery
man
that
holdes
himselfe
content
,
And
yéeldes
God
thankes
,
as
dutie
doth
require
:
For
all
his
giftes
that
hée
to
vs
hath
sent
,
And
is
not
vext
with
ouer
great
desire
:
And
such
,
I
say
,
most
quietly
doe
sléepe
,
When
fretting
cares
doth
others
waking
kéepe
.
What
doth
auaile
huge
heapes
of
shining
golde
,
Or
gay
attyre
,
or
stately
buildinges
braue
:
If
worldly
pelfe
thy
heart
in
bondage
holde
?
Not
thou
thy
goodes
,
thy
goodes
make
thée
their
slaue
.
For
gréedie
men
like
Tantalus
doe
fare
,
In
midst
of
wealth
,
they
néedie
are
and
bare
.
A
warie
héede
that
thinges
go
not
to
losse
,
Doth
not
amisse
,
so
that
it
kéepe
the
meane
:
But
still
to
toyle
and
moyle
for
worldly
drosse
,
And
tast
no
ioy
nor
pleasure
for
our
paine
:
In
carke
and
care
both
day
and
night
to
dwell
,
Is
nothing
els
but
euen
a
very
hell
.
Wherefore
I
say
,
as
erst
I
did
beginne
,
Contented
men
enioy
the
greaetst
blisse
:
Let
vs
content
our selues
to
flye
from
sinne
,
And
still
abide
what
Gods
good
pleasure
is
.
If
ioy
,
or
paine
,
if
wealth
,
or
want
befall
,
Let
vs
bée
pleasde
,
and
giue
God
thankes
for
all
.
In
the
praise
of
Friendship
.
REueale
(
O
tongue
)
the
secretes
of
my
thought
,
Tel
forth
the
game
that
perfect
friendship
brings
:
Expresse
what
ioyes
by
her
to
man
are
brought
,
Vnfolde
her
prayse
which
glads
all
earthly
things
:
If
one
might
say
,
in
earth
a
heauen
to
bée
,
It
is
no
doubt
,
where
faythfull
friendes
agrée
.
To
all
estates
true
friendship
is
a
stay
,
To
euery
wight
a
good
and
welcome
guest
:
Our
life
were
death
,
were
shée
once
tane
away
,
Consuming
cares
would
harbour
in
our
brest
.
Fowle
malice
eke
,
would
banish
al
delight
,
And
puffe
vs
vp
with
poyson
of
despight
.
If
that
the
séedes
of
enuie
and
debate
;
Might
yéelde
no
fruite
,
but
wither
and
decay
;
No
canckred
mindes
would
hoorde
vp
heapes
of
hate
.
No
hollow
hearts
dissembling
partes
should
play
.
No
clawback
then
would
fawne
in
hope
of
méede
,
Such
life
to
lead
,
were
perfect
life
in
déede
.
But
nowadayes
desire
of
worldly
pelfe
,
With
all
estates
makes
friendship
very
colde
:
Few
for
their
friendes
,
ech
shifteth
for
himselfe
,
If
in
thy
purse
thou
hast
good
store
of
golde
:
Full
many
a
one
,
thy
friendship
will
imbrace
,
Thy
wealth
once
spent
,
they
turne
away
their
face
.
Let
vs
still
pray
vnto
the
Lord
aboue
,
For
to
relent
our
hearts
as
hard
as
stone
:
That
through
the
world
one
knot
of
loyall
loue
,
In
perfect
trueth
might
linke
vs
all
in
one
:
Then
should
wée
passe
this
life
without
annoyes
,
And
after
death
possesse
eternall
ioyes
.
A
commendation
of
Peace
.
WHen
boyling
wrath
perturbs
mans
troubled
brest
,
Outraging
will
bids
reasons
lore
adue
:
Turmoyling
cares
bereaue
all
quiet
rest
,
And
hastie
yre
makes
harmefull
happes
ensue
,
Great
stormes
of
strife
are
raisd
,
through
dire
debate
,
But
golden
peace
preserues
the
quiet
state
.
A
gift
diuine
,
than
precious
pearle
more
worth
,
Is
blessed
peace
,
to
discord
deadly
foe
.
Most
plenteous
fruits
this
blooming
trée
brings
forth
When
warre
and
strife
yéeld
crops
of
care
and
woe
.
Rash
rancours
rage
procures
fond
furious
fightes
,
Peace
makes
men
swim
in
feaes
of
swéet
delights
.
If
that
this
peace
bée
such
a
passing
thing
,
That
it
by
right
may
challenge
worthy
prayse
:
What
thankes
owe
wée
vnto
our
heauenly
king
,
Through
whome
we
haue
enioyde
such
happy
dayes
?
Next
to
our
Quéene
,
how
déepely
are
wée
bound
,
Whose
like
on
earth
,
before
was
neuer
found
?
If
England
would
perpend
the
bloody
broyles
,
And
slaughters
huge
that
foraine
realmes
haue
tried
,
It
should
me
séemes
,
by
warnd
by
their
turmoyles
,
In
perfect
loue
and
concord
to
abide
.
But
(
out
alas
)
my
heart
doeth
rue
to
tell
)
Small
feare
of
God
,
amongst
vs
now
doth
dwell
.
And
where
that
wantes
,
what
hope
doth
els
remayne
,
But
dire
reuenge
for
rash
committed
crimes
?
Heapes
of
mishaps
will
fall
on
vs
amayne
,
If
we
doe
not
lament
our
sinnes
betimes
.
Vnlesse
with
spéede
,
to
God
for
grace
we
call
,
I
feare
,
I
feare
,
great
plagues
on
vs
will
fall
.
England
therefore
,
in
time
conuert
from
vice
,
The
pleasant
spring
abides
not
all
the
yeere
.
Let
foraine
ylls
,
forewarne
thée
to
be
wise
,
Stormes
may
ensue
,
though
now
the
coastes
be
cléere
.
I
say
no
more
,
but
onely
doe
request
,
That
God
will
turne
all
things
vnto
the
best
.
For
Souldiers
.
Ye
buds
of
Brutus
land
,
couragious
youths
,
now
play
your
parts
Vnto
your
tackle
stand
,
abide
the
brunt
with
valiant
hearts
.
For
newes
is
carried
too
&
fro
,
that
we
must
forth
to
warfare
goe
:
Men
muster
now
in
euery
place
,
&
souldiers
are
prest
forth
apace
.
Faynt
not
,
spend
blood
;
to
doe
your
Quéene
&
countrey
good
.
Fayre
wordes
,
good
pay
,
wil
make
men
cast
al
care
away
.
The
time
of
warre
is
come
,
prepare
your
corslet
,
speare
&
shield
,
Me
thinks
I
heare
the
drumme
,
strike
doleful
marches
to
the
field
,
Tantara
,
tantara
,
the
trumpets
sound
,
with
makes
our
harts
with
ioy
abound
,
The
roring
guns
are
heard
a
far
,
&
euery
thing
denounceth
warre
.
Serue
God
,
stand
stoute
;
bold
courage
brings
this
geare
about
.
Feare
not
;
forth
run
;
faint
heart
,
faire
Lady
neuer
woonne
.
Yée
curious
Carpet
knights
,
that
spende
the
time
in
sport
&
play
Abrode
&
sée
new
sights
,
your
countries
cause
cals
you
away
:
Doe
not
to
make
your
Ladies
game
,
bring
blemish
to
your
worthy
name
.
Away
to
field
,
&
win
renoune
,
which
courage
beat
your
enimies
down
.
Stoute
hearts
gain
praise
,
when
Dastards
sayle
in
slaunders
seas
:
Hap
what
hap
shal
,
we
sure
,
shal
die
but
once
for
all
,
Alarme
me
thinkes
they
cry
,
be
packing
mates
,
be
gone
with
spéed
,
Our
foes
are
very
nigh
,
shame
haue
that
man
that
shrinks
at
néed
.
Vnto
it
boldly
let
vs
stand
,
God
wil
geue
right
the
vpper
hand
.
Our
cause
is
good
,
we
néed
not
doubt
,
in
signe
of
courage
geue
a
showte
.
March
forth
,
be
strong
,
good
hap
wil
come
ere
it
be
long
.
Shrinke
not
,
fight
well
,
for
lusty
lads
must
beare
the
bell
.
All
you
that
wil
shun
euil
,
must
dwel
in
warfare
euery
day
,
The
world
,
the
flesh
&
Diuel
,
alwayes
doe
séeke
our
soules
decay
.
striue
with
these
foes
with
al
your
might
,
so
shal
you
fight
a
worthy
fight
.
That
conquest
doth
deserue
most
praise
,
wher
vice
do
yéeld
to
vertues
wayes
.
Beat
down
foule
sin
,
a
worthy
crown
then
shal
ye
win
.
If
we
liue
wel
,
in
heauen
with
Christ
our
soules
shal
dwell
.
To
his
friende
.
MUse
not
too
much
(
o
wight
of
worthy
fame
)
At
view
of
this
my
rude
&
ragged
rime
,
I
am
almost
enforst
to
write
the
same
:
Wherefore
forgeue
,
if
I
commit
a
crime
.
The
cause
hereof
,
and
how
it
came
to
passe
,
I
shall
declare
,
euen
briefly
as
it
was
.
Reuoluing
in
my
mind
your
friendly
face
,
Your
bountie
great
,
your
loue
to
euery
man
,
I
heard
my
wit
,
and
will
to
scan
this
case
,
If
I
should
write
or
no
,
thus
wil
began
.
Take
pen
in
hand
thou
fearefull
wight
she
said
,
To
write
thy
mind
what
should
make
thée
afraid
?
Not
so
(
quoth
wit
)
acquaintance
hath
he
small
,
With
him
to
whom
thou
bidst
him
write
his
mind
,
What
tho
(
quoth
will
)
that
skils
nothing
at
all
,
He
writes
to
one
that
is
to
all
a
friend
.
Him
so
to
be
(
quoth
wit
)
none
can
denie
.
Thou
art
a
foole
(
quoth
will
)
then
to
reply
.
Great
cause
(
quoth
wit
)
shoulde
make
him
to
refraine
.
He
would
(
quoth
wil
)
declare
his
friendly
heart
.
What
if
(
quoth
wit
)
he
chance
to
reape
disdayne
?
Of
such
foul
fruits
(
quoth
wil
)
friends
haue
no
part
.
Perchance
(
quoth
wit
)
it
wil
be
taken
yll
.
Wel
meaned
things
,
who
wil
take
yl
(
quoth
wil
?
)
He
hath
no
skil
(
quoth
wit
,
)
how
should
he
write
?
Al
want
of
skil
(
quoth
will
)
good
will
supplies
.
I
sée
(
quoth
wit
)
thou
wilt
worke
him
despite
.
For
counsell
good
thou
,
geuest
him
rash
aduice
.
Wit
said
no
more
:
But
will
that
stately
Dame
,
Still
bad
me
write
,
not
forcing
any
blame
.
Since
will
,
not
wit
,
makes
me
commit
offence
,
Of
pardon
yours
the
better
hope
I
haue
.
To
shew
my
loue
was
all
the
whole
pretence
,
That
made
me
write
.
This
onely
doe
I
craue
:
In
any
thing
if
pleasure
you
I
can
,
Command
me
so
,
as
if
I
were
your
man
.
A
renouncing
of
loue
.
AL
earthly
things
by
course
of
kind
,
Are
subiect
still
to
reasons
lore
:
But
sure
I
can
no
reasons
finde
,
That
makes
these
Louers
loue
so
sore
.
They
fry
and
fréese
in
myldest
weather
,
They
wéepe
and
laugh
euen
both
together
.
Euen
now
in
waues
of
déepe
despaire
,
Their
barke
is
tossed
too
and
fro
.
A
gale
of
hope
expels
al
feare
,
And
makes
the
winde
to
ouerblow
:
Twixt
feare
and
hope
these
Louers
saile
,
And
doubtful
are
which
shall
preuayle
.
At
night
in
slumber
swéetly
laide
,
They
séeme
to
holde
their
loue
in
armes
:
Awaking
then
,
they
are
afrayde
,
And
féele
the
force
of
thousand
harmes
.
Then
doe
they
tosse
in
restlesse
bed
,
With
hammers
woorking
in
their
head
.
A
merry
looke
from
Ladies
face
,
Bringes
them
a
foote
which
could
not
goe
:
A
frowning
brow
doth
them
disgrace
,
And
brues
the
broth
of
all
their
woe
,
Hereby
all
men
may
playnely
know
:
That
reason
rules
not
Louers
law
.
But
reason
doth
me
thus
persuade
,
Where
reason
wants
,
that
nothing
frames
:
Therefore
this
reason
hath
me
made
,
To
set
aside
all
louely
gaynes
.
Since
reason
rules
not
Venus
sport
,
No
reason
bids
me
scale
that
forte
.
A
will
or
Testament
.
WHen
dreadfull
death
with
dint
of
pearcing
darte
,
By
fatall
doome
,
this
corpes
of
mine
shal
kill
;
When
lingring
life
shall
from
my
life
depart
,
I
thus
set
downe
,
my
testament
and
will
.
My
faythfull
friendes
executor●
shall
remayne
,
To
sée
performde
what
here
I
doe
or
dayne
.
To
thée
(
O
world
)
I
first
of
all
doe
leaue
The
vayne
delights
,
that
I
in
thée
haue
found
,
Thy
fained
shewes
wherewith
thou
didst
deceaue
,
Thy
fickle
trust
,
and
promises
vnsound
.
My
wealth
,
my
woe
,
my
ioyes
commixt
with
care
.
Doe
take
them
,
all
doe
fall
vnto
thy
share
.
And
Satan
thou
,
for
that
thou
wert
the
cause
,
That
I
in
sinne
did
still
mispend
my
dayes
,
I
thée
defie
,
and
here
renounce
thy
lawes
,
My
wicked
thoughts
,
my
vile
and
naughty
waies
,
And
eke
my
vice
doe
to
thy
lot
befall
,
From
thée
they
came
,
doe
take
them
to
thee
all
.
To
thée
,
O
earth
,
agayne
I
do
restore
,
My
carrion
corpes
,
which
from
thée
did
procéede
:
Because
it
did
neglect
all
godly
lore
,
Let
gréedy
wormes
vpon
it
alwayes
féede
;
Let
it
in
filth
consume
and
rot
away
,
And
so
remaine
vntil
the
iudgement
day
.
But
my
poore
soule
,
whom
Christ
most
déerly
bought
Which
hated
sinne
,
and
loathed
to
offend
,
Together
with
ech
good
and
godly
thought
,
Into
thy
handes
,
swéete
Iesu
,
I
commend
.
O
sauiour
Christ
,
doe
guide
my
steppes
so
well
,
That
after
death
,
she
stil
with
thée
may
dwell
.
A
Complaynt
of
a
Louer
.
IF
euer
wofull
wight
had
cause
,
to
pipe
in
bitter
smart
,
I
which
am
thrall
to
Cupids
lawes
,
with
him
may
beare
a
part
.
Whose
ioyful
dayes
alas
,
are
gone
;
whom
daily
cares
doe
tosse
,
But
wote
yée
why
I
thus
take
on
?
my
lucke
is
turnde
to
losse
.
Erecruell
loue
my
heart
possest
,
no
cares
did
vexe
my
head
,
But
since
he
harboured
in
my
brest
,
my
golden
dayes
are
fled
.
Time
was
when
fortune
did
allow
,
great
gladnesse
to
my
share
,
But
ah
,
for
that
time
is
not
,
now
doth
grow
my
cause
of
care
.
Time
was
when
I
liude
in
delight
,
and
reapt
of
ioyes
my
fill
:
But
now
time
is
,
workes
me
despite
,
would
waste
had
tarried
still
.
No
hap
so
hard
,
no
griefe
so
great
,
whereof
I
féele
not
part
,
Now
shiuering
colde
,
now
flaming
heate
,
anoyes
my
wofull
heart
.
So
that
hope
is
the
onely
stay
,
on
which
my
life
dependes
,
Which
if
it
once
be
tane
away
,
my
date
of
liuing
ends
.
God
graunt
my
hope
,
such
hap
may
sée
,
that
good
successe
ensue
,
Which
if
it
long
prolonged
be
,
through
griefe
I
die
,
adiew
.
For
his
friende
.
I
That
in
fréedome
liued
of
late
,
And
neuer
stoupt
to
Cupids
lure
,
Haue
now
made
change
of
my
estate
,
And
thousand
torments
doe
endure
.
As
late
abrode
I
cast
my
lookes
,
In
fancies
lune
I
fast
was
cought
,
And
beauty
with
her
bayted
hookes
,
Hath
me
alas
in
bondage
brought
.
I
loue
,
but
lacke
the
thing
I
craue
,
I
liue
,
but
want
my
chiefest
good
,
I
hope
,
but
hap
I
cannot
haue
,
I
serue
,
but
starue
for
want
of
foode
.
Then
so
to
loue
,
what
state
more
yll
?
Such
life
affoordes
small
time
of
ioy
,
Such
wauering
hope
doth
often
kill
,
To
serue
and
starue
what
worse
anoy
?
Yet
wil
I
loue
whiles
life
doth
last
,
And
liue
whiles
any
hope
remaines
,
And
hope
when
dismal
dayes
are
past
,
To
haue
reward
for
all
my
paynes
.
Loe
thus
I
liue
by
hope
sustaynd
,
Yet
through
dispayre
,
die
euery
houre
,
In
sorow
glad
,
in
pleasure
painde
,
Now
fed
with
swéete
,
now
choakt
with
sowre
.
Deare
Dame
in
humble
sort
I
sew
,
Since
mine
estate
to
you
is
known
,
Voutsafe
my
dolefull
case
to
rew
,
And
saue
his
life
who
is
your
owne
.
Somewhat
made
of
nothing
,
at
a
Gentlewomans
request
YE
gladly
would
haue
me
to
make
you
some
toy
,
And
yet
will
not
tel
me
wherof
I
should
write
:
The
strangenes
of
this
doth
bréed
me
anoy
,
And
makes
me
to
séeke
what
things
to
endite
.
If
I
should
write
rashly
what
comes
in
my
braine
,
It
might
be
such
matter
as
likes
you
not
best
,
And
rather
I
would
great
sorow
sustayne
,
Then
not
to
fulfill
your
lawfull
request
.
Two
dangers
most
doubtful
oppresse
me
alike
,
Ne
am
I
resolued
to
which
I
might
yéelde
,
Wherfore
by
perforce
I
am
foretd
to
séeke
,
This
slender
deuice
to
serue
for
my
shield
.
Since
nothing
yée
geue
me
to
busie
my
brayne
,
Nothing
but
your
nothing
of
me
can
yée
craue
.
Wherfore
now
receiue
your
nothing
agayne
,
Of
nothing
,
but
nothing
,
what
els
would
yée
haue
.
Of
the
instability
of
Fortune
.
WHo
wisely
waies
false
fortunes
fickle
change
,
Which
in
short
space
turnes
loue
to
mortal
hate
,
Shall
find
smal
cause
to
déem
it
wondrous
strange
,
To
fléete
from
happie
life
to
worse
estate
.
For
whie
her
swéete
is
alwaies
mixt
with
sowre
,
If
now
shée
fawne
,
she
frownes
within
an
houre
,
Her
smiles
are
wyles
to
cause
men
hope
for
hap
,
Her
traynes
bréede
paynes
,
though
pleasant
be
the
show
,
Him
whom
shée
now
doth
dandle
in
her
lap
,
Straightway
sustaines
a
wretched
ouer
throw
.
And
whom
thou
séest
at
foote
of
whéele
downe
cast
,
Within
short
space
,
shée
hoyseth
vp
as
fast
.
The
raging
Seas
which
dayly
ebbes
and
flowes
,
The
wauering
winds
,
which
blow
now
here
now
there
,
More
constant
are
then
fortunes
flattering
vowes
,
Who
in
one
hoode
,
a
double
face
doth
beare
.
To
trust
her
lookes
,
when
shée
doth
fleere
or
laugh
,
Is
nothing
els
but
trust
a
broken
staffe
.
Pollicrates
(
as
auncient
writers
tell
)
On
Fortunes
whéele
most
highly
was
aduaunste
,
And
many
a
yéere
shée
fauourd
him
so
well
,
That
no
ill
hap
long
time
vnto
him
chaunst
.
Yet
in
the
end
,
to
shew
her
double
wayes
,
With
hemping
roape
,
shée
causde
him
end
his
dayes
.
If
thou
wilt
shun
all
sorow
and
distresse
,
By
fortunes
threates
doe
set
but
litle
store
,
If
thine
affayres
haue
euer
good
successe
,
Yéeld
hearty
thankes
to
God
thy
Lorde
therefore
.
If
great
annoyes
doe
fall
vpon
thée
fast
,
Thinke
them
due
plagues
for
some
offences
past
.
By
prayer
then
make
leuell
with
the
Lorde
.
Repentant
hearts
haue
mercie
when
they
call
:
Loue
him
with
feare
,
delight
to
reade
his
worde
,
So
great
good
haps
vnto
thée
will
befall
.
So
shalt
thou
leade
thy
life
without
annoyes
,
And
after
death
possesse
eternal
ioyes
.
Of
the
vanitie
of
this
life
.
I
Reade
in
Poets
faigned
bookes
,
That
wise
Vlysses
wandring
came
,
Where
Circes
through
her
fawning
lookes
,
Did
worke
his
men
a
spightfull
shame
.
She
causde
them
quaffe
great
bowles
of
wine
,
And
presently
they
turnde
to
swine
.
But
hée
which
followed
vertue
still
,
Refusde
to
taste
this
proffered
charme
,
And
would
not
worke
her
beastly
will
,
As
one
that
doubted
farther
harme
.
Her
witchcraftes
and
enchantmentes
straunge
,
Were
not
of
force
this
man
to
chaunge
.
The
world
with
his
alluring
toyes
,
Is
Circes
witch
of
whome
they
write
:
Which
temptes
vs
with
her
sugred
ioyes
,
And
makes
vs
swimme
in
such
delight
,
That
wée
so
play
with
pleasures
ball
,
As
if
there
were
no
God
at
all
.
If
man
would
way
,
what
enemies
Are
alwayes
prest
him
to
deuoure
,
Mée
thinkes
from
sinne
hée
should
arise
,
And
make
defence
with
all
his
power
.
For
why
,
the
world
,
the
flesh
,
and
deuill
,
Doe
neuer
cease
to
worke
vs
euill
.
These
so
bewitch
our
foolish
braines
,
That
nought
wée
force
eternall
paine
:
And
euery
one
in
sinne
remaines
,
As
if
hell
were
a
fable
vaine
.
Alas
wée
are
seduced
so
,
That
all
true
heartes
do
bléede
for
woe
.
The
shéepe
doth
yéerely
yéelde
his
fléese
,
The
plodding
Oxe
the
plow
doth
draw
:
And
euery
thing
in
willing
wise
,
Kéepes
and
obayes
dame
Natures
law
:
But
man
in
witte
,
which
should
excell
,
Against
his
Lord
doth
still
rebell
.
Ech
doth
deferre
from
day
to
day
,
And
thinkes
the
morow
to
amend
:
But
death
arestes
vs
by
the
way
,
And
sodainly
some
makes
their
end
.
O
wretched
case
that
they
bée
in
,
Which
die
,
and
not
lament
their
sinne
.
Thou
silly
man
,
still
feare
the
Lord
,
Thy
former
sinnes
with
spéede
forsake
:
The
iudgement
day
in
minde
record
,
In
which
ech
soule
account
must
make
,
Confesse
thy
faultes
to
God
therefore
,
Repent
,
amend
,
and
sinne
no
more
.
Of
the
vanitie
of
the
world
.
AS
I
lay
musing
in
my
bed
,
A
heape
of
fancies
came
in
head
,
Which
greatly
did
molest
mée
.
Such
sundry
thoughtes
of
ioy
and
paine
,
Did
méete
within
my
pondring
braine
,
That
nothing
could
I
rest
mée
;
Sometimes
I
felt
excèeding
ioy
;
Sometimes
the
torment
of
annoy
,
Euen
now
I
laugh
,
euen
now
I
wéepe
,
Euen
now
a
slumber
made
mee
sléepe
.
Thus
did
I
with
thoughtes
of
straunge
deuice
,
Lye
musing
alone
in
pensiue
wise
:
I
knew
not
what
meanes
might
health
procure
,
Nor
finish
the
toyle
I
did
indure
.
And
still
I
lay
,
and
found
no
way
,
That
best
could
make
my
cares
decay
.
Reuoluing
these
thinges
in
my
minde
,
Of
wretched
world
the
fancies
blinde
:
Alone
a
while
I
ponder
:
Which
when
I
had
perused
well
,
And
saw
no
vertue
there
to
dwell
,
It
made
mée
greatly
wonder
.
Is
this
that
goodly
thing
(
thought
I
)
That
all
men
loue
so
earnestly
?
Is
this
the
fruit
that
it
doth
yéelde
,
Whereby
wée
all
are
so
beguilde
?
Ah
Iesus
,
how
then
my
heart
did
rue
,
Because
I
had
folowed
them
,
as
true
.
Alas
wée
haue
lost
the
heauenly
ioyes
,
And
haue
béene
deceaued
with
worldly
toyes
;
Whose
fancies
vaine
,
will
bréede
vs
paine
,
If
Christ
doe
not
restore
againe
.
O
wretched
man
,
leaue
off
therefore
,
In
worldly
thinges
put
trust
no
more
.
Which
yéeldes
no
thing
but
sorow
:
To
God
thy
Lord
with
spéede
conuert
,
Because
thou
most
vncertain
art
:
If
thou
shalt
liue
too
morow
,
Leaue
of
to
quaffe
,
to
daunce
and
play
,
Remember
still
the
iudgement
day
,
Repent
,
relent
,
and
call
for
grace
,
For
pardon
aske
,
whilst
thou
hast
space
.
Who
doeth
from
his
heart
repentaunce
craue
,
Forgiuenes
(
saieth
Christ
)
of
mée
shall
haue
.
Hée
will
not
the
death
of
a
sinner
giue
:
But
rather
hée
should
repent
and
liue
.
Stil
laud
the
Lord
,
peruse
his
word
,
And
let
thy
déedes
with
it
accord
.
A
Lesson
for
all
estates
.
HAst
thou
desire
thy
golden
dayes
to
spend
,
In
blisfull
state
exempt
from
all
annoyes
?
So
liue
,
as
if
death
how
thy
life
should
end
,
Still
treade
the
pathes
that
leade
to
perfect
ioy
.
Bee
slow
to
sinne
,
but
spéedie
to
aske
grace
,
How
are
they
blest
that
thus
runne
out
their
race
?
Ech
night
,
ere
sléepe
shut
vp
thy
drowsie
eyes
,
Thinke
thou
how
much
in
day
thou
hast
transgrest
;
And
pardon
craue
of
God
in
any
wise
,
To
doe
that
's
good
,
and
to
forsake
the
rest
.
Sinne
thus
shake
of
,
the
●●end
for
enuie
wéepes
,
Sound
are
our
ioyes
,
most
quiet
are
our
sléepes
,
Haue
not
thy
head
so
cloyd
with
worldly
cares
,
As
to
neglect
that
thou
shouldst
chiefly
minde
:
But
beare
an
eye
to
Sathans
wil●
snares
:
Who
to
beguile
,
a
thousand
shiftes
will
finde
,
Vaine
are
the
ioyes
that
wretched
world
allowes
,
Who
trust
them
most
,
doe
trust
but
rotten
bowes
.
Shunne
filthy
vice
,
persist
in
doing
well
,
For
doing
well
doth
godly
life
procure
:
And
godly
life
makes
vs
with
Christ
to
dwell
,
In
endlesse
●lisse
that
euer
shall
endure
.
Wée
pray
thée
Lord
,
our
follyes
to
redresse
,
That
wée
thus
doe
,
thus
liue
,
this
blisse
possesse
.
A
Dreame
.
IN
pleasaunt
moneth
of
gladsome
May
I
walkt
abroad
to
view
The
fieldes
,
which
nature
had
bedeckt
With
flowers
of
sundry
hew
.
The
sight
whereof
did
recreate
My
senses
in
such
sort
,
As
passeth
far
beyond
my
power
,
Thereof
to
make
reporte
.
Then
sat
I
néere
a
pleasaunt
wood
,
And
listened
with
desire
:
Vnto
the
small
birdes
chirping
charme
,
Which
set
my
heart
on
fire
.
Of
Goldefinch
and
of
Nightingale
I
there
might
heare
the
voyce
:
The
Wren
,
the
Robin
and
the
thrush
,
Did
make
a
heauenly
noyse
.
Whose
swéete
melodious
harmonie
My
senses
so
bere●t
,
That
I
in
this
delightfull
plot
,
A
pray
to
sléepe
was
left
.
In
slumber
mine
an
auncient
dame
,
Before
my
face
appeares
:
Whose
hollow
chéekes
and
wrinckled
face
,
Did
argue
many
yéeres
.
Her
vesture
was
as
white
as
snow
,
Her
countenaunce
very
sad
,
It
semed
by
her
watry
eine
,
Some
inward
griefe
shée
had
.
For
why
,
great
streames
of
trickling
teares
,
Distilled
downe
her
chéekes
,
And
thus
to
mée
with
trembling
voyce
,
This
aged
beldam
speakes
.
My
friende
(
quoth
shée
)
bée
not
dismayde
,
At
this
my
sodaine
sight
,
Ne
let
the
spéeches
I
shall
vse
,
Thy
fearefull
minde
afright
.
I
am
not
of
the
furies
broode
,
Ne
damned
sprites
of
hell
:
But
hée
through
whome
my
being
is
,
Aboue
the
skies
doth
dwell
.
And
Lady
Concord
I
am
calde
,
From
forraine
Realmes
exilde
:
Once
mutual
Loue
my
husband
was
,
And
plentie
was
our
childe
:
But
,
ah
,
quod
shée
,
a
hagge
of
hell
,
That
long
hath
sought
their
spoyle
Hath
slaine
them
both
,
vnlesse
they
dwell
,
Within
your
english
soyle
.
Héerewith
there
yssued
from
her
eine
,
Of
teares
abundant
store
:
And
sighes
so
stopt
her
féeble
voyce
,
That
shée
could
speake
no
more
.
The
sight
wherof
(
mée
thought
)
did
rayse
,
Great
dolours
in
my
breast
:
Yet
praying
her
for
to
procéede
,
She
thus
her
minde
exprest
.
Vile
Couetousnesse
that
furie
fell
,
Hath
wrought
vs
all
this
woe
:
To
Concord
and
to
Mutuall
Loue
,
Shée
is
a
deadly
foe
.
Time
was
,
when
wée
were
well
estéemde
,
And
calde
ech
countries
stay
:
But
Couetousnesse
now
rules
the
roast
,
And
beareth
all
the
sway
.
And
were
it
not
that
in
this
land
,
I
finde
some
small
reliefe
:
I
had
béene
dead
long
ere
this
time
,
Through
greatnesse
of
my
gréefe
.
Debate
and
rancour
night
and
day
,
On
this
vile
Dame
attend
,
Whom
shée
to
worke
her
beastly
will
,
About
the
world
doth
send
.
These
two
haue
raysde
such
warre
and
strife
,
In
partes
beyond
the
Seas
,
That
now
few
nations
in
the
earth
,
Enioy
their
woonted
peace
.
Now
gold
is
reuerenced
as
a
God
,
Eche
hunts
for
priuat
gayne
.
Men
care
not
how
their
soules
shall
spéede
,
So
wealth
they
may
attaine
.
Of
conscience
now
,
few
make
account
,
Him
men
estéeme
most
wise
:
Which
to
beguile
his
neighbour
poore
,
Can
craftiest
meanes
deuise
.
This
sayd
,
mée
thought
the
auncient
dame
,
Did
vanish
straight
away
.
And
I
awaking
héere
withall
,
Went
home
without
delay
,
Where
taking
paper
,
penne
,
and
inke
,
With
spéede
I
there
enrolde
:
The
circumstaunce
of
all
the
tale
,
That
Concord
to
mée
tolde
.
Which
makes
me
wish
that
euery
one
,
Would
mutuall
loue
imbrace
:
And
that
no
spots
of
couetousnesse
,
With
sinne
their
déedes
deface
.
A
Dreame
.
LAyd
in
my
quiet
bed
to
rest
,
When
sléepe
my
senses
all
had
drownd
;
Such
dreames
arose
within
my
breast
,
As
did
with
feare
my
minde
confound
.
Mée
thought
I
wandred
in
a
wood
,
Which
was
as
darke
,
as
pitte
of
hell
:
In
midst
whereof
such
waters
stoode
,
That
where
to
passe
,
I
could
not
tell
.
The
Lion
,
Tiger
,
Woolfe
,
and
Beare
,
There
thundered
forth
such
hideous
cries
:
As
made
huge
Eccoes
in
the
ayre
,
And
séemed
almost
to
pearce
the
skies
.
Long
vext
with
care
I
there
aboad
,
And
to
get
forth
I
wanted
power
:
At
euery
footesteppe
that
I
troad
,
I
feard
some
beast
would
mée
deuoure
.
Abyding
thus
perplext
with
paine
,
This
case
within
my selfe
I
scand
,
That
humaine
helpe
was
all
in
vaine
,
Vnlesse
the
Lord
with
vs
doe
stand
.
Then
falling
flatte
vpon
my
face
,
In
humble
sorte
to
God
I
prayde
:
That
in
this
darke
and
dreadfull
place
,
Hée
would
vouchsafe
to
bee
mine
ayde
.
Arising
then
a
wight
with
winges
,
Of
auncient
yéeres
mée
thinkes
I
sée
:
A
burning
torch
in
hand
hée
bringes
,
And
thus
beganne
to
speake
to
mée
.
That
God
,
whose
ayde
thou
didst
implore
,
Hath
sent
mée
hither
for
thy
sake
:
Plucke
vp
thy
sprites
,
lament
no
more
,
With
mée
thou
must
thy
iourney
take
.
Against
a
huge
and
loftie
hill
,
With
swiftest
pace
mée
thinkes
wée
goe
:
Where
such
a
sound
mine
eares
did
fill
,
As
moued
my
heart
to
bléede
for
woe
.
Mée
thought
I
heard
a
woefull
wight
,
In
dolefull
sorte
powre
forth
great
plaintes
:
Whose
cries
did
so
my
minde
afright
,
That
euen
with
feare
ech
member
faintes
.
Fie
(
quoth
my
guyd
)
what
meanes
this
change
,
Passe
on
a
pace
with
courage
bolde
,
Hereby
doth
stand
a
prison
strange
,
Where
woonderous
thinges
thou
maist
beholde
.
Then
came
we
to
a
fort
of
brasse
,
Where
péering
through
greate
iron
grates
,
We
saw
a
woman
sit
alas
,
Which
ruthfully
bewaylde
her
fates
.
Her
face
was
farre
more
white
then
snow
,
And
on
her
head
a
crowne
shée
ware
,
Beset
with
stones
that
glistered
so
,
As
hundred
torches
had
bene
there
.
Her
song
was
woe
,
and
weale
away
,
What
torments
here
doe
I
sustayne
?
A
new
mishap
did
her
dismay
,
Which
more
and
more
increast
her
payne
,
An
vggly
creature
all
in
blacke
,
Ran
to
her
seate
,
and
flang
her
downe
,
Who
rent
her
garments
from
her
backe
,
And
spoyld
her
of
her
precious
crowne
.
This
crowne
he
plaste
vpon
his
hed
,
And
leauing
her
in
dolefull
case
,
With
swiftest
pace
away
he
fled
:
And
darknesse
came
in
all
the
place
.
But
then
to
heare
the
wofull
moue
,
And
piteous
grones
that
she
foorth
sent
,
He
had
no
doubt
,
a
heart
of
stone
,
That
could
geue
eare
and
not
lament
,
Then
(
quoth
my
guide
)
note
well
my
talke
.
And
thou
shalt
heare
this
dreame
declard
:
The
wood
in
which
thou
first
didst
walke
,
Vnto
the
world
may
be
comparde
.
The
roaring
beasts
plainly
expresse
,
The
sundry
snares
in
which
we
fall
,
This
Gaole
is
named
déepe
distresse
,
In
which
Dame
vertue
lies
as
thrall
,
Shée
is
the
wight
which
heere
within
,
So
dolefully
doth
houle
and
crie
,
Her
foe
is
called
deadly
sinne
,
That
proffered
her
this
villany
.
My
name
is
Time
,
whom
God
hath
sent
,
To
warne
thée
of
thy
soules
decay
,
In
time
therefore
thy
sinnes
lament
,
Least
time
from
thée
be
tane
away
.
As
soone
as
he
these
wordes
had
sayd
,
With
swiftest
pace
away
he
flies
,
And
I
hereat
was
so
afrayde
,
That
drowsie
sléepe
forsooke
mine
eyes
.
For
a
Gentlewoman
.
LIke
as
a
forte
or
fenced
towne
.
By
foes
assault
that
lies
in
field
,
When
Bulwarkes
all
are
beaten
downe
,
Is
by
perforce
constraynde
to
yéelde
,
So
I
that
could
no
while
withstand
,
The
battery
of
your
pleasant
loue
,
The
flagge
of
truce
tooke
in
my
hande
,
And
meant
your
mercy
for
to
proue
.
My
foolish
fancie
did
enforce
,
Me
first
to
like
your
friendly
sute
,
Whiles
your
demaunds
bred
such
remorce
,
That
I
coulde
not
the
same
refute
.
I
bad
you
take
with
frée
consent
,
All
that
which
true
pretence
might
craue
,
And
you
remaynde
as
one
content
,
The
thing
obtaynd
that
you
would
haue
.
Such
friendly
lookes
and
countenance
fayre
,
You
fréely
then
to
me
profest
.
As
if
all
troth
that
euer
were
,
Had
harboured
beene
within
your
brest
.
And
I
which
saw
such
perfect
shewes
,
Of
fraudlesse
fayth
in
you
appeare
.
Did
yeelde
my selfe
to
Cupids
Lawes
,
And
shewde
likewise
a
merrie
chéere
.
No
louing
toyes
I
did
withholde
,
And
no
suspect
did
make
me
doubt
.
Til
your
demeanure
did
vnfolde
,
The
wilie
traines
ye
went
about
.
Who
sees
a
ruinous
house
to
fall
,
And
will
not
shift
to
get
him
thence
.
When
limines
be
crusht
,
and
broken
all
.
It
s
then
too
late
to
make
defence
.
When
pleasant
baite
is
swallowed
downe
.
The
hooked
fish
is
sure
to
die
,
On
these
Dame
Fortune
oft
doe
frowne
,
As
trust
too
farre
before
they
trie
.
Of
had
I
wist
,
who
makes
his
moane
,
It
s
ten
to
one
he
neuer
thriues
,
When
théeues
are
from
the
Gibbet
throwne
,
No
pardon
then
can
saue
theyr
liues
.
Such
good
aduice
as
comes
too
late
,
May
wel
be
calde
,
Sir
fore
wits
foole
:
Elswhere
goe
play
the
cosoning
mate
,
I
am
not
now
to
goe
to
schoole
.
But
cléerely
doe
at
length
discerne
,
The
marke
to
which
your
bow
is
bent
,
And
these
examples
shall
me
warne
,
What
harme
they
haue
that
late
repent
.
Your
sugred
spéech
was
but
a
baite
,
Wherwith
to
bleare
my
simple
eyes
,
And
vnder
them
did
lurke
deceipt
,
As
poyson
vnder
hony
lies
.
Wherefore
since
now
your
drift
is
knowne
,
Goe
set
your
staule
some
other
where
:
I
may
not
so
be
ouerthrowne
,
Your
double
dealings
make
me
feare
.
When
stéede
by
théeues
is
stolne
away
,
I
wil
not
then
the
doore
locke
fast
,
Wherfore
depart
without
delay
,
Your
words
are
winde
,
your
sute
is
wast
.
And
this
shal
be
the
finall
doome
,
That
I
to
your
request
will
giue
,
Your
loue
in
me
shall
haue
no
roome
,
Whiles
life
and
breath
shal
make
me
liue
,
For
a
Gentlewoman
.
WHat
lucklesse
lot
had
I
alas
,
To
plant
my
loue
in
such
a
soyle
,
As
yéelds
no
corne
nor
fruitfull
grasse
,
But
crops
of
care
,
and
brakes
of
toyle
?
When
first
I
chose
the
plot
of
ground
,
In
which
mine
Anchor
foorth
was
cast
,
I
thought
it
stable
,
firme
,
and
sound
,
But
found
it
sande
and
s●ime
at
last
.
Like
as
the
Fouler
with
his
ginnes
,
Beguiles
the
birdes
that
thinke
no
yll
,
By
fyled
spéech
▪
so
diuers
winnes
The
simple
sort
to
worke
theyr
will
.
But
I
,
whom
good
aduice
hath
taught
,
To
shun
their
snares
and
suttle
charmes
,
Am
not
into
such
daunger
brought
,
But
that
I
can
eschew
the
harmes
.
The
skilfull
Faulconer
still
doth
proue
,
And
prayse
that
hawke
which
makes
best
whing
,
So
I
by
some
that
seemd
to
loue
,
Haue
had
the
proofe
of
such
a
thing
.
From
〈◊〉
they
did
pursue
their
game
,
With
swifte●●
whing
and
ega●
minde
,
But
when
in
midst
of
flight
they
came
,
They
turnde
their
traynes
against
the
winde
.
Yée
haggards
straunge
therefore
adiew
,
Goe
séeke
some
other
for
your
mate
,
Yée
false
your
faith
and
proue
vntrue
,
I
like
and
loue
the
sole
estate
.
Like
as
Vlisses
wandring
men
,
In
red
seas
as
they
past
along
,
Did
stoppe
their
eares
with
waxe
as
then
,
Against
the
suttle
Mermayds
songue
.
So
shall
their
crafty
filed
talke
,
Here
after
finde
no
listning
eare
,
I
will
byd
them
goe
packe
and
walke
,
And
spend
their
wordes
some
otherwhere
.
By
proofe
experience
tels
me
now
,
What
fickle
trust
in
them
remaynes
,
And
tract
of
time
hath
learned
me
how
,
I
should
eschew
their
wylie
traines
.
Such
as
are
bound
to
Louers
toyes
,
Make
shipwracke
of
theyr
fréedome
still
,
They
neuer
tast
but
brittle
ioyes
:
For
one
good
chance
a
thousand
yll
.
Cease
now
your
sutes
and
gloze
no
more
,
I
meane
to
leade
a
Virgins
life
:
In
this
of
pleasure
find
I
store
,
In
doubtfull
sutes
but
care
and
strife
.
A
Godly
discourse
.
LIke
as
the
wight
farre
banished
from
his
soyle
,
In
countrey
strange
,
opprest
with
grief
&
pain
,
Doth
nothing
way
his
long
and
weary
toyle
,
So
that
ye
may
come
to
his
home
againe
:
And
not
accounts
of
perils
great
at
hand
,
For
to
attayne
his
owne
desired
land
.
Such
is
the
state
of
vs
thy
seruantes
all
,
(
Most
gratious
God
)
that
here
on
earth
do
dwell
:
We
banisht
were
through
Adams
cursed
fall
,
From
place
of
blisse
,
euen
to
the
pit
of
hell
:
Our
vice
and
sinnes
,
as
markes
and
signes
wee
haue
,
Which
still
we
beare
,
and
shal
doe
to
our
graue
.
When
that
all
hope
of
remedy
was
past
,
For
our
redresse
when
nothing
could
be
founde
:
Thine
onely
sonne
,
thou
didst
send
downe
at
last
,
To
salue
this
sore
,
and
heale
our
deadly
wound
:
Yet
did
they
please
to
vse
him
as
a
meane
,
Vs
banisht
wights
for
to
call
home
agayne
.
And
for
because
thy
Godhead
thought
it
méete
,
The
sacred
booke
of
thy
most
holy
wil
,
Thou
didst
vs
leaue
a
lanterne
to
our
féete
,
To
light
our
steppes
,
in
this
our
voyage
still
,
Directing
vs
what
to
eschew
or
take
:
All
this
thou
doest
,
for
vs
vile
sinners
sake
.
Graunt
vs
sound
fayth
,
that
we
take
stedfast
holde
,
On
Christ
his
death
which
did
our
raunsome
pay
,
So
shall
we
shun
the
daungers
manifold
,
Which
would
vs
let
,
and
cause
vs
run
astray
.
The
wicked
world
,
the
flesh
,
the
Diuell
and
all
,
Are
stumbling
blockes
,
ech
howre
to
make
vs
fall
.
This
Dungeon
vile
of
Sathan
is
the
nest
,
A
Denne
of
dole
,
a
sinke
of
deadly
sinne
.
Heauen
is
the
hauen
in
which
we
hope
to
rest
,
Death
is
the
dore
whereby
we
enter
in
.
Swéete
Sauiour
,
graunt
that
so
wée
liue
to
die
,
That
after
death
,
we
liue
eternally
.
In
the
praise
of
Musike
.
THe
bookes
of
Ouids
changed
shapes
,
A
story
strange
doe
tell
,
How
Orpheus
to
fetch
his
wife
,
Made
voyage
vnto
hell
.
Who
hauing
past
olde
Charons
boate
,
Vnto
a
Pallace
came
,
Where
dwelt
the
Prince
of
damned
sprites
,
Which
Pluto
had
to
name
.
When
Orpheus
was
once
ariude
Before
the
Regall
throne
:
He
playde
on
Harpe
,
and
sang
so
swéete
,
As
moude
them
all
to
mone
.
At
sound
of
his
melodious
tunes
,
The
very
soules
did
moorne
,
Yxion
with
his
whirling
whéele
,
stoode
still
and
would
not
turne
:
And
Tantalus
did
not
assay
,
The
fléeting
floodes
to
taste
:
The
sisters
with
their
hollow
siues
,
For
water
made
no
haste
.
The
gréedy
Vulturs
that
are
faynde
,
On
Titius
heart
to
gnawe
,
Left
off
to
féede
:
and
stoode
amasde
,
When
Orpheus
they
sawe
,
And
Sysyphus
which
roules
the
stone
,
Agaynst
a
mighty
hill
,
Whyles
that
his
musike
did
endure
,
Gaue
eare
,
and
sate
him
stil
.
The
furies
eke
which
at
no
time
,
Were
séene
to
wéepe
before
,
Were
moude
to
moane
his
heauy
happ●
And
shedde
of
teares
greate
store
.
If
muficke
with
her
notes
diuine
,
So
great
remorce
can
moue
,
I
déeme
that
man
bereft
of
wits
,
which
musike
will
not
loue
.
She
with
her
siluer
sounding
tunes
,
Reuiues
mans
dulled
sprites
,
Shée
féedes
the
eare
:
shée
fils
the
heart
,
With
choice
of
rare
delights
.
Her
sugred
descant
doth
withdraw
,
Thy
minde
from
earthly
toyes
,
And
makes
thée
féele
within
thy
brest
,
A
tast
of
heauenly
ioyes
.
The
Planets
and
Celestiall
partes
,
Swéete
harmony
containe
,
Of
which
if
creatures
were
depriud
,
This
world
could
not
remayne
.
It
is
no
doubt
,
the
very
déede
Of
golden
melodie
,
That
neighbours
doe
together
liue
In
loue
and
vnitie
.
Where
man
and
wife
agrées
in
one
,
Swéete
musike
doth
abound
,
But
when
such
stringes
begin
to
iarre
,
Vnpleasant
is
the
sound
.
Amongst
all
sortes
of
harmony
,
none
doth
so
well
accord
,
As
when
we
liue
in
perfect
feare
,
And
fauour
of
the
Lord
.
Who
graunt
vnto
vs
sinfull
wightes
,
Sufficient
power
and
might
,
According
to
his
mercy
great
,
To
tune
this
string
aright
.
A
pleasaunt
Iest
.
SOmetimes
in
Fraunce
it
did
so
chaunce
,
One
that
did
seruice
lacke
:
A
country
clowne
went
vp
and
downe
,
With
fardell
on
his
backe
.
When
that
this
swad
long
trauailde
had
,
Some
seruice
to
require
:
His
fortune
was
,
as
hée
did
passe
,
A
farmar
did
him
hire
.
When
Aprill
showres
,
y●
brings
May
flowers
,
Made
spring
time
bud
and
sprout
:
This
country
swaine
,
for
maisters
gaine
,
Did
ride
his
fieldes
about
:
Now
as
he
road
,
in
ground
abroad
,
In
prime
of
pleasaunt
spring
:
Hard
by
their
towne
,
this
country
clowne
,
Did
heare
two
cuckoes
sing
:
One
of
them
sat
fast
by
a
gate
,
In
their
towne
fielde
,
which
stoode
In
place
néereby
,
hée
might
discry
The
other
in
a
wood
.
These
Cuckoes
séemde
,
as
lobcocke
déemde
,
With
enuie
to
contend
:
Which
of
them
twaine
,
in
playne
song
vaine
,
The
other
could
amend
.
Thus
sange
they
long
,
their
woonted
song
,
Their
townefielde
Cuckoes
throate
Was
nothing
cléer
,
which
chaungd
the
chéere
Of
farmers
man
,
God
wote
.
His
horse
hée
ties
,
and
fast
hée
hies
,
Vpon
a
trée
to
stand
:
And
made
a
noyse
,
with
Cuckoes
voyce
,
To
get
the
vpper
hand
.
Hée
thought
not
good
,
hée
of
the
wood
,
Should
beare
away
the
prayse
:
To
make
him
yéeld
,
to
him
of
fielde
,
Himselfe
the
Cuckoe
playes
.
Cuckoe
,
quoth
hée
,
vpon
the
trée
,
And
cuckoe
,
cuckoe
sayde
,
With
cuckoe
,
cuckoe
,
&
cuck
cuck
cuckoe
,
Long
time
these
cuckoes
playde
.
As
they
thus
stand
,
from
woodes
at
hand
Two
wolues
for
pray
that
sought
,
By
chaunce
espyed
,
the
horse
fast
tyed
,
That
lobcocke
thither
brought
,
To
him
they
hye
,
and
presently
,
In
péeces
did
him
teare
:
Whereat
amasde
,
the
lobcocke
gazde
,
And
pist
himselfe
for
feare
.
When
Wolues
were
gone
,
comming
downe
anone
,
Homewardes
hée
hide
with
spéede
:
And
there
doth
tell
,
all
that
befell
,
Of
this
vnluckie
déede
.
His
maister
swore
,
being
wroth
therfore
,
He
would
none
other
nay
,
But
that
the
slaue
,
and
foolish
knaue
,
The
price
of
horse
should
pay
.
But
to
procéede
,
it
was
agréed
,
The
wiues
that
there
did
dwell
,
The
case
should
scan
,
of
this
poore
man
,
If
hée
did
ill
or
well
.
It
being
séene
,
hée
did
it
in
.
Defence
of
all
the
towne
:
With
one
intent
,
they
gaue
consent
,
For
to
accquite
the
clowne
.
They
eke
him
gaue
a
garland
braue
,
Adornd
with
many
a
rose
:
And
great
and
small
,
him
captaine
call
Of
Cuckoes
,
where
he
goes
.
Now
in
my
minde
,
hée
were
vnkinde
,
That
would
wish
any
ill
:
Vnto
a
wight
,
in
townships
right
,
That
shewd
so
great
goodwill
.
A
Newyeeres
gift
to
a
Gentlewoman
.
IF
pure
goodwill
,
not
meaning
ill
,
might
boldly
,
might
boldly
,
Presume
to
tell
his
minde
:
I
wold
not
vse
,
in
terms
diffuse
,
thus
coldly
,
thus
coldly
To
shew
my selfe
a
friend
.
But
now
adayes
,
so
sinne
preuailes
,
That
fayth
decaies
,
and
friendship
fayles
,
Most
men
are
so
infected
with
ielous
musing
braines
,
That
trust
as
one
reiected
,
forsaken
cleane
remaines
.
And
thinges
are
constred
cleane
awry
,
When
nought
was
meant
but
honestie
.
Thus
much
I
say
,
as
by
the
way
,
reciting
,
reciting
,
What
daunger
may
ensue
:
Because
that
I
suspiciously
,
in
writing
,
in
writing
,
Doe
send
my
minde
to
you
.
Some
will
surmise
,
that
I
p●etend
,
By
such
deuice
some
naughtie
end
:
But
let
them
speak
and
spare
not
,
I
force
it
not
a
beane
,
For
al
their
talke
I
care
not
,
whilst
guiltles
I
remaine
.
Such
as
haue
not
transgrest
the
lawes
,
Doe
neuer
feare
to
pleade
their
cause
.
But
now
,
swéete
heart
,
it
is
my
part
;
to
open
,
to
open
,
The
summe
of
mine
intent
:
I
send
this
bil
,
for
pure
goodwill
,
in
token
,
in
token
,
That
former
yéere
is
spent
.
It
is
in
déede
a
simple
shift
:
To
serue
in
stéede
of
new
yéeres
gift
,
Though
slenderly
I
make
it
,
your
pardon
let
mée
haue
▪
If
in
good
part
you
take
it
,
no
more
of
you
I
craue
:
So
shall
you
binde
mée
day
by
day
,
To
pleasure
you
in
what
I
may
.
But
I
offend
,
such
words
to
spend
,
in
séeking
,
in
séeking
,
That
you
should
pardon
mée
:
If
oft
I
doe
,
that
bréedes
in
you
,
misliking
,
misliking
,
Corrected
let
mée
bée
.
My selfe
to
you
I
yéelde
and
giue
,
As
prisoner
true
,
whilst
that
I
liue
:
So
may
you
be
reuenged
,
for
my
presumptuous
heart
:
Which
hath
perhaps
offended
,
to
play
so
leawd
a
part
.
Condemne
mée
to
bée
prisoner
still
,
So
may
you
boldly
worke
your
will
.
Procéede
my
déere
,
the
case
is
cléere
,
now
stay
not
,
now
stay
not
Giue
iudgement
out
of
hand
:
If
you
ordaine
,
perpetuall
paine
,
I
way
not
,
I
way
not
,
Your
iust
decrée
shall
stand
.
And
if
you
will
award
it
so
,
That
I
must
now
to
prison
go
:
Your
heart
shall
bée
the
prison
,
wherin
I
will
abyde
,
Vntill
by
right
and
reason
,
my
case
bée
throughly
tride
.
O
God
,
how
happy
should
I
bée
.
If
such
a
gaile
enclosed
mée
?
A
delectable
Dreame
.
AS
late
abroad
asléepe
I
lay
,
Mée
thought
I
came
by
wondrous
chaunce
:
Whereas
I
heard
a
harper
play
,
And
saw
great
store
faeries
daunce
.
I
marched
néere
,
drawne
by
delight
,
And
prest
these
gallant
Dames
among
:
When
as
their
daunce
being
ended
quite
,
Of
him
that
playde
they
craue
a
song
.
My
presence
nought
appalde
their
minde
,
Hée
tunde
his
harpe
,
his
voyce
was
cléere
:
And
as
a
foe
to
woman
kind
,
He
sang
this
song
that
foloweth
héere
.
A
Womans
face
is
full
of
wiles
,
Her
teares
are
like
the
Crocadill
:
With
outward
chéere
on
thée
shée
smiles
,
When
in
her
heart
shée
thinkes
thée
ill
.
Her
tongue
still
chattes
of
this
and
that
,
Then
aspine
leafe
it
wagges
more
fa●●
And
as
she
talkes
shée
knowes
not
what
,
There
yssues
many
a
troathlesse
blast
.
Thou
farre
doest
take
thy
marke
amisse
,
If
thou
thinke
fayth
in
them
to
finde
:
The
Wethercocke
more
constant
is
,
Which
turnes
about
with
euery
winde
.
O
,
how
in
pittie
they
abound
!
Their
heart
is
milde
,
like
marble
stone
,
If
in
thy selfe
no
hope
bée
found
,
Be
sure
of
them
thou
gettest
none
.
I
know
some
pepernosed
dame
Will
tearme
mée
foole
and
sawcie
iack
,
That
dare
their
credit
so
defame
,
And
lay
such
slaunders
on
their
backe
.
What
though
on
mée
they
powre
their
spite
,
I
may
not
vse
the
glosérs
trade
,
I
cannot
say
the
crow
is
white
,
But
néedes
must
call
a
spade
a
spade
.
Héerewith
his
songue
and
musik
ceast
,
The
Faeries
all
on
him
did
frowne
:
A
stately
dame
amongst
the
rest
,
Vpon
her
face
falles
prostrate
downe
.
And
to
the
Gods
request
did
make
,
That
some
great
plagues
might
bée
assind
To
him
,
that
all
might
warning
take
,
How
they
speake
ill
of
womankind
.
Héerewith
(
a
wonder
to
bée
tolde
)
His
féete
stoode
fast
vpon
the
ground
.
His
face
was
neither
young
,
nor
olde
,
His
harpe
vntoucht
,
would
,
yeeld
no
sound
.
Long
hayre
did
grow
about
his
s●ull
,
His
skinne
was
white
,
his
blood
was
read
,
His
paunch
with
guts
was
bombast
full
,
No
dogge
had
euer
such
a
head
.
His
coulour
oft
did
goe
and
come
,
His
eies
did
stare
as
hée
did
stand
:
Also
foure
fingers
and
a
thombe
,
Might
now
bée
seene
in
eyther
hand
,
His
tongue
likewise
was
plagued
sore
,
For
that
it
played
this
péeuish
parte
,
Because
it
should
offend
no
more
,
'T
was
tyed
with
stringes
vnto
his
heart
.
Yet
in
his
mouth
aboad
shée
still
,
His
téeth
like
walles
did
kéepe
her
in
:
Which
now
grinde
meate
,
much
like
a
mill
,
His
lippes
were
placde
aboue
his
chinne
.
Thus
was
hée
chaungd
,
that
none
him
knew
,
But
for
the
same
hée
was
before
:
By
silent
signes
hée
séemde
to
sue
,
That
Gods
would
now
torment
no
more
.
And
hée
would
there
without
delayes
,
Recant
all
that
,
which
erst
hée
spake
.
Hée
pardoned
is
,
on
harpe
hée
playes
,
And
presently
this
songue
did
make
.
AMongst
all
creatures
bearing
life
,
A
woman
is
the
worthyest
thing
:
Shée
is
to
man
a
faythfull
wife
:
Shée
mother
was
to
Christ
our
king
.
If
late
by
mée
they
were
accusde
,
I
haue
therefore
receiued
my
hyre
:
Vnlesse
they
greatly
bée
abusde
,
They
neuer
are
repleate
with
yre
.
They
neither
chide
,
fight
,
brawle
,
nor
lye
,
The
gentlest
creatures
vnder
sunne
:
When
men
doe
square
for
euery
fly
,
To
make
them
friends
the
women
runne
,
And
where
they
chaunce
to
fixe
their
loue
,
They
neuer
swarue
,
or
seeke
for
chaunge
:
No
new
perswasions
can
them
moue
,
T
is
men
that
haue
desire
to
raunge
.
Like
Turtles
true
they
loue
their
spowse
,
And
doe
their
duties
euery
way
:
●
hey
fée
good
orders
in
the
house
,
When
husbands
are
abroad
at
play
.
And
to
conclude
they
Angells
are
,
Though
héere
on
earth
they
doe
remaine
,
Their
glittering
hew
,
which
shines
like
Star
,
And
bewtie
braue
declares
it
playne
.
This
sayde
,
the
Faeries
laught
,
And
séemd
in
countenance
very
glad
,
To
speake
my
minde
,
I
then
had
thought
.
How
some
were
good
,
and
some
were
bad
,
But
(
marke
ill
happe
)
a
friend
came
by
,
Who
as
hée
found
mée
sléeping
so
,
Did
call
mée
vp
with
voyce
so
hye
,
That
slumber
swéete
I
did
forgoe
.
To
his
most
faythfull
friend
.
A
Thing
most
straunge
to
tell
,
of
late
did
chaunce
to
me
:
whiles
that
I
tooke
my
pen
in
hand
,
to
writ
my
mind
to
thée
,
As
I
had
thought
in
hast
to
pach
a
verse
or
two
,
Without
regarde
,
as
common
friends
,
accustomd
oft
to
doe
:
I
could
not
for
my
life
,
mine
eies
so
waking
kéepe
,
But
that
a
sodain
slumber
came
,
which
made
mée
fal
asléep
,
In
dreame
I
séemde
to
sée
,
appeare
before
mine
eine
,
A
comely
Lady
well
be
séene
,
attirde
in
decent
wise
,
Most
modest
were
her
lookes
,
most
chéerefull
eke
her
face
,
Me
thought
therin
was
picturd
out
,
a
worthy
matrons
grace
.
O
thanklesse
wretch
,
shée
said
,
and
canst
thou
so
neglect
My
worthy
lawes
?
is
there
with
thée
of
frends
no
more
respect
?
Dost
know
to
whome
thou
writest
?
is
he
a
common
frende
?
Suffiseth
it
in
common
sort
,
that
thou
shouldst
shew
thy
mind
.
Hath
his
desarts
deserude
of
thée
no
better
méede
?
Is
this
due
guerdon
for
the
loue
,
which
did
from
him
procéed
?
In
that
he
hath
in
déedes
,
byn
alwaies
friend
to
thée
,
Let
him
overthrow
by
friendly
words
,
thée
thankful
stil
to
be
.
He
lookes
not
for
thy
déeds
,
he
knowes
thy
power
is
smal
,
And
wilt
thou
then
depriue
him
,
wretch
,
of
words
,
of
déeds
&
al
?
Brute
beasts
requite
good
turnes
,
it
cannot
be
denied
,
Wilt
thou
then
be
vngrateful
which
hast
reason
for
thy
guid
?
Shal
friendship
dwell
in
beasts
,
and
men
be
found
vnkinde
?
Shal
they
for
loue
,
shew
loue
agayn
,
&
thou
forget
thy
friend
?
With
that
shée
gaue
a
becke
,
and
bad
me
to
awake
,
And
said
,
doe
shew
thy
thankful
mind
,
&
so
requitall
make
.
Herewith
shée
did
depart
,
my
slumber
past
away
,
I
felt
my
chéeks
bedewd
with
tears
,
through
words
that
she
did
say
Her
bitter
sharpe
rebukes
,
did
make
me
muse
a
space
,
Chiefly
in
that
they
did
procéede
,
out
from
so
fayre
a
face
.
But
then
I
cald
to
minde
,
that
Gratitude
she
was
,
That
thankful
Dame
whose
custom
is
from
friend
to
friend
to
passe
.
I
tooke
my
pen
in
hand
,
with
purpose
to
declare
The
Circumstance
of
this
my
dreame
,
with
cloyd
my
hed
with
care
,
Herein
also
I
thought
her
precepts
to
obey
,
And
al
the
plot
of
thy
deserts
,
most
largely
to
display
,
But
when
my
dreame
was
done
,
I
found
such
litle
store
:
Of
paper
,
that
I
could
not
haue
,
wherin
to
write
the
more
.
¶
One
that
had
a
frowarde
Husband
,
makes
complaynt
to
her
mother
:
Written
in
French
,
by
Clement
Marott
,
AND
is
there
any
wight
aliue
,
That
rightly
may
compare
.
Or
goe
beyond
me
silly
wretch
,
In
sadnesse
and
in
care
?
Some
such
may
be
,
but
this
I
say
,
One
must
goe
farre
to
séeke
,
To
finde
a
woman
in
this
worlde
,
Whose
griefe
to
mine
is
like
:
Or
hath
so
iust
a
cause
of
moane
,
In
dumps
of
déepe
despite
,
I
linger
on
my
loathsome
life
,
Depriud
of
all
delight
.
Men
say
the
Phoenix
is
a
birde
,
Whose
like
cannot
bée
found
,
I
am
the
Phoenix
in
this
worlde
,
Of
that
those
care
doth
wound
.
And
he
that
workes
me
all
this
woe
,
May
be
the
Phoenix
well
,
Of
all
enraged
senslesse
wightes
,
That
in
the
earth
doe
dwell
.
I
moane
not
here
as
Dido
did
,
Being
stryken
at
the
heart
,
As
woorthy
Virgill
doeth
recorde
,
With
dint
of
Cupids
dart
.
Nor
in
my
playnts
some
Louer
name
,
As
Sappho
did
of
yore
:
But
husband
is
the
cause
héereof
,
Which
makes
my
griefe
the
more
.
For
Louers
if
they
like
vs
not
,
We
may
cast
of
agayne
,
But
with
our
husbandes
(
good
or
bad
)
Till
death
we
must
remayne
.
I
doe
not
speake
these
wordes
,
as
if
His
death
I
did
desire
,
But
rather
that
it
might
please
God
,
His
thoughts
so
to
enspire
,
That
he
might
vse
me
as
he
ought
,
Or
as
I
doe
deserue
,
Since
that
I
him
(
as
duety
byndes
)
Doe
honour
,
loue
,
and
serue
.
And
séemes
it
not
desert
thinke
you
?
At
his
commaund
to
haue
The
beauty
greate
and
other
giftes
,
that
nature
to
me
gaue
?
Is
t
not
desert
,
such
one
with
him
In
loyall
bed
to
lie
,
As
alwayes
hath
most
faythfull
byn
,
And
will
be
till
shée
die
:
To
looke
on
him
with
chéerefull
face
,
to
call
him
Spouse
and
friend
,
To
coll
and
kisse
,
all
this
hée
hath
,
With
franke
and
willing
mynde
,
And
all
thinges
els
as
God
commaunds
,
And
duety
doth
allowe
,
Yet
am
I
dealt
with
at
his
handes
,
Alas
,
I
know
not
howe
,
Hée
thanklesse
man
,
doth
ill
for
good
,
Agaynst
all
right
and
lawe
,
Hée
had
of
me
good
fruitfull
Corne
,
And
payes
mée
chaffe
and
straw
,
For
méeke
and
humble
curtesie
,
Fierce
cruelty
hée
geues
,
For
loyalty
,
disloyalty
,
And
that
which
most
mée
grieues
,
Is
when
in
swéete
and
humble
sorte
,
I
come
to
make
my
moane
,
His
heart
no
more
is
mollified
,
Then
is
the
Marble
stone
.
The
cruell
Lyon
ready
bent
,
With
pawes
and
téeth
to
teare
,
When
that
the
silly
Hounde
doeth
yéelde
,
His
malice
doeth
forbeare
.
When
Attalus
the
Romayne
host
Did
erst
subdue
in
field
,
His
heart
to
mercy
was
enclinde
,
Assoone
as
they
did
yéelde
.
Blacke
Pluto
eke
the
Prince
of
hell
,
Vneasie
to
bée
woone
,
When
Orpheus
had
playde
on
harpe
,
His
rankour
all
was
done
.
By
swéetnesse
and
by
curtesie
,
What
is
not
wrought
alas
,
Nerethlesse
the
swéetenesse
Feminine
,
Which
others
all
doth
passe
Can
nothing
doe
before
the
eyes
,
Of
my
hardhearted
féere
,
The
more
that
I
submit
my selfe
,
The
straunger
is
his
chéere
.
So
that
in
wrongfull
cruelty
,
And
spite
he
doth
excel
,
The
Lions
wilde
,
the
Tyrants
stoute
,
And
monsters
eke
of
hel
.
As
ofte
as
I
reuolue
in
mynde
The
greatnesse
of
my
harmes
,
I
thinke
how
foorth
the
Fowler
goes
,
with
swéete
and
pleasant
charmes
,
To
take
the
birds
,
which
once
betrayd
,
He
eyther
killes
straight
way
,
Or
kéepes
them
pende
in
pensiue
cage
,
That
flie
no
more
they
may
.
And
so
at
first
,
I
taken
was
,
By
his
swéete
fléering
face
,
And
now
depriude
of
ioy
alas
:
Am
handled
in
like
case
.
Now
,
if
the
birdes
(
as
some
auouch
,
Doe
curse
his
kéeper
still
,
In
language
his
,
why
curse
I
not
,
The
Author
of
my
yll
.
That
griefe
doeth
euer
greater
harme
,
Which
hidden
lies
in
brest
,
Then
that
which
to
some
faithfull
friend
,
By
speaking
is
exprest
,
My
sorowes
then
shall
bée
reuealde
,
Some
stedfast
friend
vnto
,
My
tongue
thereby
vnto
my
heart
,
A
pleasure
greate
may
doe
.
But
vnto
whom
shoulde
I
disclose
My
bondage
and
my
thrall
?
Vnto
my
spouse
?
No
surely
no
,
My
gaynes
shoulde
bee
but
small
,
Alas
to
whom
then
shoulde
I
moane
?
Should
I
some
Louer
choose
,
Who
in
my
sorowes
and
my
griefes
,
As
partner
I
might
vse
?
Occasions
great
do
counsell
me
To
put
this
same
in
vre
:
Mine
honour
and
mine
honestie
,
Forbid
such
rashnes
sure
.
Wherefore
ye
louers
al
,
adew
,
Vnto
some
other
goe
:
I
will
obserue
my
vowed
fayth
,
Though
to
my
greatest
foe
.
To
whome
shal
I
powre
forth
my
plaints
?
To
you
most
louing
mother
?
For
they
by
dutie
do
belong
,
To
you
,
and
to
none
other
.
To
you
I
come
to
séeke
reliefe
,
With
moyst
and
wéeping
eies
:
Euen
as
the
heart
with
thirst
opprest
,
Vnto
the
fountaine
hies
.
If
any
salue
in
all
the
world
,
may
serue
to
cure
my
wound
:
Dame
Nature
sayes
vndoubtedly
,
In
you
it
must
be
found
.
Now
if
some
succour
may
be
had
,
Assisted
let
me
be
,
But
if
it
lie
not
in
your
power
:
Yet
spend
some
teares
with
me
.
That
yours
with
mine
,
&
mine
with
yours
Might
so
kéepe
moyst
the
flowre
,
That
erst
procéeded
from
your
wombe
,
And
wasteth
euery
houre
.
His
Friend
W.
C.
to
Mistres
F.
K.
whom
he
calls
his
Captaine
.
AS
Souldiers
good
obey
their
captaines
will
,
And
readie
are
to
goe
,
to
ride
,
or
runne
:
And
neuer
shrinke
their
duety
to
fulfill
,
But
what
they
byd
,
it
by
and
by
is
done
.
So
rest
I
yours
(
good
Captayne
)
to
dispose
,
When
as
you
please
,
to
combate
with
your
foes
.
Your
foes
,
sayd
I
?
alas
what
may
they
be
,
That
haue
the
heart
,
to
harme
so
swéete
a
wight
?
Who
dare
attempt
to
try
his
force
with
thée
,
Shall
conquerd
be
,
ere
he
begin
to
fight
.
Let
thousand
foes
agaynst
thee
come
in
field
,
Thy
beauty
great
will
make
them
all
to
yéeld
,
To
yéeld
,
sayd
I
?
nay
rather
would
they
choose
,
By
thée
subdude
,
to
liue
in
bondage
still
,
Then
lead
such
life
as
Conquerors
doe
vse
,
In
thy
disgrace
,
and
wanting
thy
good
will
.
But
strike
the
drumme
,
&
let
the
trumpet
sound
,
To
take
thy
part
,
whole
legions
wil
be
found
.
So
many
eares
as
euer
heard
thée
speake
:
So
many
eyes
as
haue
thy
feature
vewde
,
So
many
handes
thy
puysance
hath
made
weake
,
So
many
heartes
thy
beauty
hath
subdued
,
Ech
of
these
eares
,
ech
eye
,
ech
hand
,
ech
heart
,
(
Swéet
Captain
)
stil
are
prest
to
take
thy
part
.
Ech
eare
,
to
heare
when
enuy
séekes
thy
foyle
:
Ech
eye
to
spy
who
worketh
thine
anoy
,
Ech
hand
,
with
blade
to
conquere
them
in
broyle
:
Ech
gladsome
heart
,
for
victory
to
ioy
.
Thus
euery
part
the
trusty
friend
will
play
,
For
thy
behoofe
,
whom
God
preserue
alway
.
The
complaynt
of
a
sinner
.
LIke
as
the
théefe
in
prison
cast
,
With
wofull
wayling
mones
,
When
hope
of
pardon
cleane
is
past
,
And
sighes
with
dolefull
grones
:
So
I
a
slaue
to
sinne
,
With
sobs
and
many
a
feare
,
As
one
without
thine
ayde
forlorne
,
Before
thy
throne
appeare
.
O
Lorde
,
in
rage
of
wanton
youth
My
follies
did
abounde
,
And
eke
,
since
that
I
knewe
thy
trueth
,
My
life
hath
béene
vnsound
.
Alas
I
doe
confesse
,
I
see
the
perfect
way
,
Yet
frayltie
of
my
féeble
fleshe
,
Doth
make
me
run
astray
.
Aye
me
,
when
that
some
good
desire
,
Woulde
moue
me
to
doe
wel
,
Affections
fond
make
mée
retire
,
And
cause
me
to
rebell
.
I
wake
,
yet
am
asléepe
,
I
sée
,
yet
still
am
blinde
,
In
ill
I
runne
with
hedlong
race
,
In
good
I
come
behinde
.
Loe
thus
in
life
I
daily
die
,
And
dying
shall
not
liue
,
Vnlesse
thy
mercy
spéedily
,
Some
succour
to
me
geue
.
I
die
O
Lorde
,
I
die
,
If
thou
doe
mée
forsake
,
I
shall
be
likened
vnto
those
,
That
fall
into
the
lake
.
When
that
one
prop
,
or
onely
stay
,
Holdes
vp
some
house
or
wall
:
If
that
the
prop
be
tane
away
,
néedes
must
the
building
fall
.
O
Lorde
,
thou
art
the
prop
,
to
which
I
cleane
and
leane
:
If
thou
forsake
,
or
case
mée
of
,
I
still
shall
liue
in
paine
.
Although
my
hard
and
stony
hart
Be
apt
to
runne
astray
:
Yet
let
thy
goodnesse
mee
conuert
,
So
shall
I
not
decay
:
Swéete
God
doe
rue
my
plaints
,
And
shéelde
mée
from
annoy
:
Then
my
poore
s●ule
this
life
once
past
Shall
rest
with
thée
in
ioy
.
¶
Of
the
vncontented
estate
of
Louers
.
WHo
so
attempts
to
publish
and
display
,
Of
Cupids
thrals
the
strange
&
awkward
fits
,
Doth
seeke
to
count
the
sand
amidst
the
Sea
,
And
wades
beyond
the
compasse
of
his
wits
:
Whose
griping
greefes
and
passions
to
disclose
,
Is
to
describe
a
world
of
care
and
woes
.
More
easie
it
s
to
weild
the
weightie
charge
,
That
Atlas
hath
in
bearing
vp
the
Skies
:
Then
to
vnsolde
,
and
picture
out
at
large
,
The
vn●outh
caresin
louers
brests
that
lies
.
Whose
rest
is
toyle
,
whose
ioy
is
endlesse
greife
,
They
often
sue
,
but
seeldome
finde
reléefe
.
Yf
Plutoes
denne
that
vgly
pit
of
hell
,
Great
griefly
plague
,
and
tormentes
hath
in
store
:
I
dare
auouch
that
those
in
loue
which
dwell
,
Do
tast
them
all
,
and
twice
as
many
more
.
Which
makes
mée
say
,
&
not
without
good
cause
,
Thrice
happlesse
wights
,
that
yéelde
to
Cupids
lawes
,
As
Aetna
hill
doth
belke
forth
flakes
of
fire
,
And
hydeous
sounds
are
harde
within
the
same
:
So
Louers
burne
through
inwarde
hot
desire
,
And
hollow
sighes
burst
out
amidst
the
flame
:
Whose
scorched
harts
dispaire
and
anguish
gnaw
Lyke
gréedy
Gripes
,
that
peck
Prometheus
maw
.
In
mirth
they
moane
,
yet
smile
amidst
their
woe
,
In
fire
they
fréese
,
in
frost
they
fry
straight
way
:
Swift
legges
to
runne
,
yet
are
not
able
goe
,
Such
is
the
state
,
in
which
poore
Louers
stay
:
As
houering
hope
dooth
hoyst
them
vp
on
hye
,
Feare
clips
their
wings
,
so
that
they
cannot
flye
.
They
fayne
in
hell
,
one
only
plague
to
fall
,
For
iust
reuendge
to
those
that
doe
amisse
:
But
they
that
loue
,
are
subiect
to
them
all
,
And
neuer
féele
one
lightning
howre
of
blisse
:
That
(
to
conclude
)
thrice
happy
is
their
chaunce
,
That
neuer
knew
to
treade
the
louers
daunce
.
A
Newyeres
gift
to
Mistresse
C.
P.
SWéet
wight
be
glad
,
pluck
vp
your
sprites
,
Old
Friendship
is
renewd
:
Milde
Concord
hath
thrown
down
the
broth
.
That
Discord
lately
brewd
.
Fowle
Enuie
,
Malice
,
and
Debate
,
In
teares
their
time
doe
spend
:
In
that
the
platforme
which
they
layde
,
Came
not
to
wished
end
.
The
mightie
Ioue
,
which
ruleth
all
,
Their
prayers
heard
,
no
doubt
:
Else
could
not
their
hot
kindled
wrath
,
So
soone
bée
quenched
out
.
Thus
farre
their
furie
did
preuaile
,
A
time
and
place
was
set
,
Wheras
at
their
appoynted
houre
,
To
try
it
out
,
they
met
,
And
dealt
.
For
vowes
had
rashly
past
,
So
long
foes
to
abide
:
Vntill
the
one
,
the
others
force
,
In
open
field
had
tried
:
I
shrinke
,
to
thinke
what
horror
great
.
Now
gripes
your
heart
through
feare
.
I
séeme
to
sée
ech
member
quake
,
As
if
yée
had
béene
there
:
To
heare
my
muse
vnto
your
eares
.
This
dolefull
tale
to
tell
.
Put
feare
to
flight
,
cast
care
aside
,
All
things
are
ended
well
:
But
Rancour
vile
,
couldst
thou
powre
forth
,
Thy
spite
vpon
none
other
:
But
that
to
combat
thou
must
bring
,
My
father
and
my
brother
?
And
I
my selfe
with
eies
must
sée
,
And
view
this
dolefull
sight
?
Goe
packe
,
thou
hast
sustaind
the
foyle
,
For
all
thy
poysoned
might
.
For
by
the
blowes
that
they
did
giue
,
Theyr
friendship
doth
encrease
,
And
in
their
heartes
establisht
is
,
An
euerduring
peace
.
The
séedes
that
thou
in
them
didst
plant
,
Are
pluckt
vp
by
the
roote
:
Thy
sister
Discord
neuer
shall
,
Againe
set
in
her
foote
.
For
if
in
dealing
of
their
blowes
,
Their
handes
had
not
bene
blest
:
A
late
repent
had
made
them
rew
,
For
harbouring
such
a
gest
.
But
of
vngrate
discurtesies
,
Wée
iustly
might
complaine
:
In
that
entreaties
would
not
serue
,
To
make
them
friendes
againe
.
If
in
their
mad
and
brainsicke
heads
,
Dame
Reason
had
borne
sway
:
But
malice
,
rancour
,
and
debate
,
Had
banisht
wit
away
.
So
that
occasion
of
this
broyle
,
Was
not
our
faythfull
friendes
:
But
these
forenamed
furies
fell
,
And
other
hellish
fiendes
.
Whose
daily
driftes
are
to
deface
,
Of
friends
the
pure
estate
:
And
makes
them
barbour
in
their
hearts
,
Great
heapes
of
deadly
hate
:
In
that
things
past
,
betwixt
them
are
For
giuen
and
forgot
:
Let
vs
imbrace
and
loue
them
so
,
As
if
this
happened
not
.
If
straunge
it
seeme
,
that
straunger
I
,
in
verse
to
you
doe
write
:
Assure
your selfe
,
it
doeth
proceede
,
through
greatnesse
of
delite
,
That
I
conceaue
in
that
I
see
,
them
reconcilde
so
well
,
Whome
no
perswasions
latelie
serude
,
their
furies
to
expell
.
These
simple
verses
to
your
viewe
,
I
haue
thought
good
to
sende
,
In
token
of
a
good
neweyeere
,
and
so
farewel
,
I
ende
.
A
straunge
historie
.
YEe
that
would
heare
a
Story
straunge
To
this
example
rare
,
Attentiuely
take
héede
:
Which
pictures
héere
,
before
your
face
,
A
worthy
wight
indéede
.
A
Phenix
well
she
may
be
calde
,
Whose
lyke
cannot
be
founde
,
Chast
Camna
was
her
name
:
Endued
with
such
comely
giftes
,
As
none
can
tell
the
same
.
All
wiues
that
in
those
dayes
did
lyue
,
This
woman
did
excell
:
In
constant
loue
towardes
her
spouse
,
As
doth
my
Story
tell
.
Sinatus
was
her
Husbande
cald
,
a
gentleman
by
blood
,
Whose
graue
aduice
in
time
of
néede
,
did
neighbours
his
much
good
.
In
such
chast
loue
this
man
and
wife
,
togither
did
remaine
.
That
no
man
could
their
spotlesse
life
,
With
any
blot
distaine
.
In
selfe
same
citie
where
they
dwelt
,
A
tyraunt
vile
bare
rule
:
Sinoris
was
his
name
,
Who
being
taken
with
her
loue
,
Did
wooe
this
worthy
Dame
.
When
after
many
onsets
giuen
,
Hée
had
sustaind
repulse
,
His
trauayle
spent
in
vaine
,
Her
worthy
spowse
Sinatus
then
Hée
caused
to
bée
slaine
.
For
he
surmisde
the
feruent
loue
,
That
shée
to
husband
bare
,
Did
hinder
him
from
his
desires
,
And
eke
procurd
his
care
.
This
done
,
afresh
this
tyraunt
vile
,
Pursues
in
cursed
suite
Of
her
:
then
that
hée
did
before
,
Hée
reapes
none
other
fruite
.
The
secret
flames
of
Cupids
fire
,
Now
broyled
so
in
his
breast
:
That
nought
but
Camna
could
restore
,
Sinoris
wonted
rest
.
Resolued
fully
was
he
then
,
To
take
this
dame
to
wife
,
Though
baser
in
degrée
:
When
no
meanes
els
could
serue
his
turne
,
To
cracke
her
honestie
.
Then
suite
was
made
vnto
her
friendes
,
Who
waying
well
his
wealth
,
Would
haue
her
néedes
consent
.
Shée
after
great
denialles
made
,
At
length
did
séeme
content
.
Sinoris
,
when
he
heard
this
newes
,
Was
passing
measure
glad
:
And
order
gaue
in
al
post
hast
,
For
mariage
to
bée
had
.
To
temple
of
Diana
then
,
With
spéede
these
couple
goe
:
And
with
them
sundry
worthy
wightes
,
The
mariage
rites
to
doe
.
In
outward
shew
shée
did
expresse
,
Great
signes
of
mirth
and
ioy
:
But
in
her
heart
shée
did
contriue
,
This
tyrant
to
destroy
.
Ere
that
they
fully
were
assurde
,
Chast
Camna
bad
one
bring
,
To
her
a
drinking
glasse
:
Of
which
shée
must
to
husband
drinke
,
As
there
the
custome
was
.
She
tempred
had
a
pleasaunt
drinke
,
With
balefull
poyson
strong
:
Of
which
shée
dranke
one
part
,
And
to
Sinoris
gaue
the
rest
,
Which
so
did
pricke
his
heart
:
That
Phisickes
skill
could
not
preuaile
,
To
saue
his
vading
life
,
Which
well
did
please
the
minde
of
her
,
That
then
should
be
his
wife
.
When
Camna
saw
that
her
deuice
,
Did
frame
euen
as
shée
would
:
She
gréetes
Dianas
Image
there
,
With
thankes
a
thousand
folde
.
And
méekely
knéeling
on
her
knées
,
Ah
Goddesse
,
then
she
sayde
,
Thou
knowest
from
murdring
of
my selfe
How
hardly
I
haue
stayde
.
Thou
knowest
,
quoth
shée
,
what
bitter
pangues
,
Hath
gripte
my
heart
with
griefe
:
Since
my
deare
husbands
death
:
And
onely
hope
of
iust
reuenge
,
Prolonged
hath
my
breath
.
Which
since
I
see
now
come
to
passe
,
With
gladnesse
will
I
die
,
And
séeke
that
soule
to
finde
:
In
life
and
death
,
which
then
my selfe
,
To
me
was
déerer
friend
.
And
thou
,
thou
caitife
vile
(
quoth
shée
)
Which
didst
my
mariage
craue
:
In
stéede
now
of
a
mariage
bed
,
Prepare
thy selfe
a
graue
,
But
séeing
then
Sinoris
dead
.
To
husbandes
sprite
shée
cryed
:
Oh
,
let
not
thy
swéete
company
,
To
mée
now
be
denied
:
Come
méete
me
now
my
louing
mate
,
Who
still
I
tender
most
:
And
saying
so
her
armes
abroad
,
She
yéelded
vp
the
Ghost
.
Amery
lest
.
SOmetimes
in
France
,
a
woman
dwelt
,
Whose
husband
being
dead
:
Within
a
yéere
,
or
somwhat
more
,
An
other
did
her
wed
.
This
good
wife
had
of
wealth
great
store
,
Yet
was
her
wit
but
thin
:
To
shew
what
happe
to
her
befell
,
My
Muse
doth
now
begin
.
It
chaunced
that
a
scholler
poore
,
Attirde
in
course
aray
,
To
sée
his
friends
that
dwelt
farre
thence
,
From
Paris
tooke
his
way
:
The
garments
were
all
rent
and
torne
Wherwith
this
wight
was
clad
:
And
in
his
purse
,
to
serue
his
néede
,
Not
one
denéere
he
had
:
Hée
was
constrainde
to
craue
the
almes
,
Of
those
which
oft
would
giue
,
His
néedy
and
his
poore
estate
With
some
thing
to
relieue
.
This
scholler
on
a
frostie
morne
,
By
chaunce
came
to
the
doore
:
Of
this
old
silly
womans
house
,
Of
whome
wée
spake
before
.
The
husband
then
was
not
at
home
,
Hée
craueth
of
the
dame
:
Who
had
him
in
,
and
gaue
him
meate
,
And
askt
from
whence
hée
came
.
I
came
(
quoth
hée
)
from
Paris
towne
,
From
Paradise
(
quoth
she
)
Men
call
that
Paradise
the
place
,
Where
all
good
soules
shal
be
.
C
ham
zure
my
vurst
goodman
is
dere
,
Which
died
this
other
yéere
:
Chould
geue
my
friend
a
good
gray
groate
,
Some
newes
of
him
to
heare
.
Hée
saw
shée
did
mistake
his
wordes
,
And
thought
to
make
some
glée
:
And
saide
,
your
husband
is
in
health
,
I
lately
did
him
sée
.
Now
by
my
troth
(
quoth
shée
)
c
ham
glad
,
Good
scholler
doe
declare
:
Was
not
hée
wroth
,
because
I
sent
Him
from
this
world
so
bare
?
In
déede
(
quoth
he
)
he
was
disppleasd
,
And
thought
it
farre
vnméete
,
You
hauing
all
to
send
him
hence
,
With
nothing
but
a
shéete
.
(
Quoth
shée
)
good
scholer
,
let
me
know
,
When
thou
returnst
agayne
,
Hée
answerd
,
Dame
I
will
be
there
,
Within
this
wéeke
or
twayne
.
Shée
sayde
,
my
friend
if
that
iche
durst
Presume
to
be
so
bolde
,
Chould
pray
thée
carrie
him
some
clothes
,
To
keepe
him
from
the
colde
.
Hée
saide
he
woulde
with
all
poste
haste
,
Into
the
towne
shée
hies
,
Hat
,
doublet
,
shert
,
coate
,
hose
and
shoes
Shée
there
for
husband
buyes
,
Shée
praying
him
in
earnest
sorte
,
It
safely
to
conuey
,
Did
geue
him
money
in
his
purse
,
And
so
he
went
his
way
,
Not
halfe
of
halfe
an
howre
was
past
,
Ere
husband
hers
was
come
,
What
newes
shée
heard
from
Paradise
,
Shée
tolde
him
all
and
some
.
And
farther
did
to
him
declare
,
What
token
shée
had
sent
,
Whereat
her
husband
waxed
wroth
,
And
woondrous
ill
content
.
He
calde
her
sotte
,
and
doating
foole
,
And
after
him
doth
ride
,
The
Scholler
was
within
a
Hedge
,
And
him
a
farre
espide
.
Hée
was
afrayde
,
and
downe
doeth
fling
His
fardell
in
a
dike
,
The
man
came
néere
,
andaskt
him
newes
,
Of
one
whom
hée
did
séeke
.
That
bare
a
fardell
at
his
backe
,
The
scholler
musde
a
while
,
Then
answearing
,
said
,
such
one
I
saw
,
Passe
ouer
yonder
style
.
With
hasty
spéede
he
downe
alightes
,
And
doth
the
scholler
pray
,
Till
he
the
man
had
ouertane
,
So
long
the
horse
to
stay
.
Vntill
hée
passed
out
of
sight
,
Full
still
the
scholer
bides
,
Who
taking
then
his
fardell
on
His
horse
,
away
he
rides
.
When
he
returnd
and
saw
himselfe
,
By
scholer
flouted
so
,
Your selues
may
iudge
what
chéere
he
made
,
If
he
were
wroth
or
no.
He
sware
I
thinke
a
hundred
oathes
,
At
length
per
mundum
toots
,
For
that
he
had
no
shoes
to
weare
,
Martch
homewardes
in
his
bootes
.
His
wife
did
méete
him
at
the
doore
.
Hayée
cought
man
?
(
quoth
shée
)
No
Dame
(
he
sayde
)
he
caught
my
horse
:
The
Diuel
take
him
and
thée
.
With
that
shée
laught
,
and
clapt
her
hands
,
And
sayde
c
ham
glad
ich
sweare
,
For
nowe
he
hath
a
horse
to
ride
,
He
wil
be
quickly
there
.
When
that
her
husband
well
had
wayde
,
That
remedy
there
was
none
,
He
takes
his
fortune
in
good
parte
,
And
makes
no
farther
mone
.
Now
whether
that
this
honest
wife
,
Did
loue
her
first
good
man
,
To
such
as
shall
peruse
this
tale
,
The
case
I
leaue
to
scan
.
To
his
friend
.
IF
thou
wilt
shun
the
pricking
briers
,
And
thornie
cares
that
folly
bréedes
,
Put
bridle
to
thy
fond
desires
,
Make
reason
mistres
of
thy
déedes
.
Attempt
nothing
by
rash
aduice
,
If
thou
thus
doe
,
then
art
thou
wise
.
Where
Wit
to
Will
is
slaue
and
thrall
,
Where
fond
affection
beareth
sway
,
Ten
thousand
mischiefes
do
befall
:
And
vertue
cleane
is
cast
away
,
For
hauing
rashnes
for
their
guide
,
Such
cannot
choose
but
wander
wyde
.
Their
credite
quickly
lies
in
dust
,
Which
yéelde
as
bondslaues
to
their
will
,
And
follow
euery
foolish
lust
,
Such
leaue
the
good
,
and
choose
the
yll
,
The
wayes
of
vertue
those
forgoe
,
And
tread
the
pathes
of
care
and
woe
.
Wilt
thou
possesse
eternall
ioyes
,
And
porte
of
blisse
at
length
attayne
?
Still
prayse
the
Lord
with
heart
and
voyce
,
From
doyng
yll
thy
steppes
refrayne
.
These
things
obserude
,
be
sure
at
last
,
In
heauen
with
Christ
,
thou
shalt
be
plast
.
A
Newyeeres
gift
to
Maister
G.
R.
THe
curtesies
yée
haue
to
me
profest
,
The
bounty
great
that
doth
from
you
procéed
,
Woulde
make
me
déeme
that
day
to
be
most
blest
,
In
which
I
might
stand
you
in
any
stéede
:
When
if
I
flinch
,
cry
on
me
open
shame
,
And
where
you
come
,
doe
bafful
my
good
name
.
If
yée
doe
muse
that
I
but
now
begin
,
For
to
expresse
that
heart
hath
long
concealde
,
Assure
your selfe
,
my
secrete
thought
within
,
So
pricke
me
foorth
,
it
néedes
must
be
reuealde
.
And
eke
desire
doth
bid
me
let
you
know
:
The
loyall
zeale
,
and
duety
that
Iowe
.
As
I
confesse
there
is
not
in
me
ought
,
To
answeare
that
my
Velle
would
fulfill
,
So
(
make
account
)
right
farre
hée
must
be
sought
,
That
doth
surmount
or
passe
me
in
goodwill
.
Which
as
in
wordes
I
haue
geuen
out
to
some
.
My
déedes
shal
try
,
if
once
occasion
come
.
A
crew
there
are
,
whose
nature
is
to
gloze
And
vaunt
in
words
,
when
heart
thinks
nothing
lesse
,
Assure
your selfe
,
that
I
am
none
of
those
,
But
will
performe
,
what
here
I
doe
professe
.
If
that
I
shrink
,
when
you
haue
cause
to
rid
me
Doe
cast
me
off
,
and
vtterly
denie
me
.
Of
fortunes
giftes
since
slender
is
my
part
,
Take
here
in
signe
of
happy
yéere
at
hand
,
These
ragged
lines
true
herauldes
of
my
heart
By
which
yée
may
my
meaning
vnderstand
,
Their
maister
hath
geuen
them
in
charge
to
tel
,
When
he
would
worst
,
that
hée
doth
wish
you
wel
.
A
Translation
out
of
French
.
O
Heauenly
God
,
all
beastes
that
doe
remayne
,
And
nourisht
are
with
foode
that
thou
doest
send
,
Within
the
wooddes
,
the
mountaynes
,
and
the
playne
,
Thy
holy
hest
,
and
lawes
doe
not
offende
.
The
scudding
fish
that
swimmes
amidst
the
Sea
,
The
pretie
birdes
that
play
them
in
the
ayre
:
Sunne
moone
and
starres
,
ech
thing
doth
thée
obey
,
And
at
thy
voyce
doe
tremble
all
for
feare
,
But
man
alas
,
yea
man
,
whom
thou
doest
make
,
More
perfect
farre
then
all
things
els
that
liue
,
Man
whom
thou
wouldst
thy
proper
shape
to
take
,
To
whom
for
guyde
,
thou
reason
eke
didst
geue
,
And
wit
,
and
sense
for
to
discerne
aright
,
What
thing
to
take
,
what
likewise
to
refuse
:
He
,
he
,
vile
wretch
,
and
most
vnthankefull
wight
,
Thy
maiesty
,
and
honour
doth
abuse
.
A
Complaint
of
a
Sinner
.
O
Lord
most
deare
,
with
many
a
teare
,
lamenting
,
lamenting
,
I
fall
before
thy
face
,
And
for
ech
crime
,
done
ere
this
time
,
repenting
,
repenting
Most
humbly
call
for
grace
.
Through
wanton
will
,
I
must
confesse
,
Thy
precepts
still
I
doe
transgresse
,
The
world
with
his
vayne
pleasure
,
Be
witcht
my
senses
so
,
That
I
could
find
no
leasure
,
My
vices
to
forgoe
.
I
graunt
I
haue
through
my
deserte
,
Deserud
great
plagues
and
bitter
smart
.
But
yet
swéet
God
,
doe
stay
thy
rod
,
forgeue
me
,
forgeue
me
,
Which
doe
thine
ayde
implore
,
O
cease
thine
ire
,
I
thée
desire
,
beléeue
me
,
beleue
me
,
I
will
so
sinne
no
more
.
But
still
shall
pray
thy
holy
name
,
In
the
right
way
my
steppes
to
frame
,
So
shall
I
not
displease
thee
,
Which
art
my
Lord
of
might
.
My
heart
and
tongue
shall
prayse
thée
,
Most
humbly
day
and
night
.
I
will
delight
continually
,
Thy
name
to
lawde
and
magnify
.
With
sighes
&
sobs
,
my
heart
it
throbs
,
remembring
,
remembring
The
fraylty
of
my
youth
,
I
ran
a
race
,
deuoyd
of
grace
,
not
rendring
,
not
rendring
Due
reuerence
to
thy
truth
.
Such
care
I
cast
on
earthly
toyes
,
That
nought
I
past
for
heauenly
ioyes
,
But
now
it
me
repenteth
,
My
heart
doeth
bléede
for
woe
,
Which
inwardly
lamenteth
,
That
euer
it
sinned
so
.
With
many
a
sigh
,
and
many
a
grone
,
O
Lord
to
thée
I
make
my
mone
.
Though
furious
fires
of
fond
desires
,
allure
me
,
allure
me
,
From
thée
so
wander
wyde
:
Let
pitifull
eyes
,
and
moystened
eyes
,
procure
thée
,
procure
thée
To
be
my
Lorde
and
guyde
.
As
Scripture
sayth
,
thou
doest
not
craue
,
A
sinners
death
,
but
wouldest
him
saue
:
That
sinfull
wretch
am
I
O
Lorde
,
Which
would
repent
and
liue
,
With
ceaslesse
plaints
I
cry
Lorde
,
Thy
pardon
to
me
geue
.
O
Lord
for
thy
swéete
Iesu
sake
,
Doe
not
shut
vp
thy
mercie
gate
.
Mercy
,
mercy
,
mercy
,
graunt
me
I
pray
thée
,
I
pray
thée
,
Graunt
mercy
louing
Lorde
,
Let
not
the
Diuel
which
meanes
me
euill
,
betray
me
,
betray
mee
,
Protect
me
with
thy
worde
.
So
shall
my
heart
find
swéete
reliefe
,
Which
now
féeles
smart
and
bitter
griefe
,
O
Lord
,
I
doe
request
thée
,
To
guyde
my
steppes
so
well
,
That
when
death
shall
arest
me
,
My
soule
with
thée
may
dwell
In
heauen
aboue
,
where
Angels
sing
,
Continuall
prayse
,
to
thée
theyr
king
.
A
Dumpe
.
THE
pangues
,
the
priuie
mones
,
The
inward
secrete
smarte
,
The
griefes
,
the
heauie
grones
,
That
vexe
my
dolefull
heart
,
So
plundge
my
life
in
paines
,
And
reaue
mée
of
all
ioy
,
That
death
is
onely
meanes
,
To
ridde
me
from
anoy
.
I
graunt
that
vitall
breath
,
preserueth
life
in
me
,
Yet
liue
I
so
,
that
death
more
welcome
farre
should
be
.
No
wight
was
euer
so
perplexed
with
despite
,
I
liue
to
tast
ech
woe
,
and
die
to
all
delight
.
Although
by
outward
looks
,
some
déeme
me
void
of
thought
Lookes
are
no
certayne
bookes
,
but
beare
false
titles
oft
.
For
sundry
times
I
iest
,
when
ioy
(
alas
)
is
small
,
And
laugh
amongst
the
rest
,
yet
haue
no
lust
at
all
.
Loe
thus
in
secret
strife
,
my
lingring
dayes
are
led
,
I
die
yet
am
aliue
:
I
liue
,
as
being
dead
.
The
more
I
beare
it
out
,
as
if
I
felt
no
yll
,
The
greater
griefes
,
no
doubt
,
doe
grow
within
me
still
.
The
thing
which
doth
amate
,
and
most
anoy
my
mind
,
Is
that
my
hard
estate
,
no
remedy
can
finde
.
As
one
that
loathes
to
liue
,
and
daily
calles
for
death
,
These
lines
to
thée
I
geue
,
in
witnesse
of
my
fayth
.
A
Dumpe
by
his
friende
.
G.
C.
MY
heauy
heart
in
dolours
drownde
,
Consumes
and
pines
away
:
And
for
me
wreth
,
nought
can
be
found
,
To
cause
my
cares
decay
.
Yée
eyes
of
mine
,
helpe
to
bewayle
,
Powre
foorth
your
brinish
teares
,
To
rue
,
alas
,
his
wretched
state
,
In
whom
no
ioy
appeares
,
How
should
I
wretch
take
any
rest
,
How
can
my
heart
féele
ioy
,
When
as
the
wight
,
that
loues
mée
best
,
Lyes
plundged
in
annoy
?
Whereto
serue
teares
,
but
to
bewayle
,
The
losse
of
such
a
friend
:
Wéepe
eies
,
alas
,
wéepe
on
your
fill
,
And
neuer
make
an
end
.
His
troubled
state
,
if
to
redresse
,
The
spending
of
my
blood
:
Or
that
small
pelfe
that
I
possesse
,
Could
doe
him
any
good
.
Then
should
your
eies
somtimes
permit
,
Mée
silly
wretch
to
sléepe
,
But
out
alas
,
it
may
not
bée
,
Wherefore
cease
not
to
wéepe
.
Such
inward
griefe
doth
mée
assayle
,
Through
thought
of
his
estate
:
That
if
I
long
of
succour
fayle
,
All
helpe
will
come
too
late
:
O
sacred
Ioue
,
to
cure
these
woes
,
Vse
thou
some
spéedie
meanes
:
Or
els
,
alas
,
with
some
short
death
,
Dispatch
mée
of
these
paines
.
For
his
friend
.
LAte
being
new fangled
,
so
fancie
did
moue
,
I
was
fast
entangled
in
nets
of
blinde
loue
,
(
Good
friends
,
doe
beléeue
me
)
I
chose
out
a
trull
,
Which
daily
doth
giue
me
a
shrewd
crow
to
pull
.
Fauour
with
her
felowes
raisde
coales
of
desire
,
Bewtie
was
the
bellowes
,
that
first
blew
the
fire
.
Thus
was
I
enflamed
,
no
reason
was
left
me
,
My
senses
were
lamed
,
my
wits
were
bereft
me
.
In
hope
of
some
fauour
,
I
then
fell
awooing
:
Such
was
her
behauiour
,
she
sought
my
vndoing
,
Small
is
my
promotion
,
most
foolish
,
what
ment
I
,
To
yéelde
my
deuotion
,
to
such
a
dame
daintie
?
Since
loue
first
soiourned
,
such
ease
doe
I
féele
,
As
Yxion
,
turned
about
on
the
whéele
.
Although
by
deseruing
,
she
ought
to
be
mine
,
With
Tantalus
staruing
,
in
griefe
still
I
pine
.
And
through
her
controlling
,
my
rest
is
as
ill
:
As
Sisiphus
rolling
the
stone
vp
the
hill
.
Thus
is
my
state
chaunged
,
déepe
dolours
do
fill
me
:
My
mirth
is
estraunged
,
good
death
come
and
kil
me
.
Whiles
I
héere
in
moning
,
the
time
out
doe
linger
:
My
griefe
and
my
groning
,
is
falne
in
my
finger
.
My
finger
,
my
finger
,
my
finger
,
beléeue
me
:
Alas
little
finger
,
ful
sore
thou
dost
grieue
me
,
Was
euer
a
finger
perplext
in
such
taking
,
I
thinke
my
poore
finger
will
neuer
leaue
aking
.
The
cause
of
my
sadnes
,
at
length
I
coniecture
:
Is
loue
with
his
madnes
,
that
bréedes
this
infecture
.
I
force
not
a
pinne
,
it
forth
now
is
gotten
:
Yet
whole
is
the
skinne
,
the
flesh
is
not
rotten
.
I
heard
when
it
fel
,
now
féele
I
no
euil
:
Dame
daintie
farewell
,
adew
to
the
deuill
.
A
straunge
Historie
.
AYoungman
once
,
by
chaunce
that
lost
his
way
,
Through
deserts
wilde
,
as
on
a
time
hée
past
:
Foure
Lyons
fierce
,
that
sought
to
gaine
some
pray
,
With
gasping
throte
,
hée
saw
make
at
him
fast
.
Who
running
swift
,
to
shunne
this
daunger
great
,
Espied
a
well
,
small
trées
about
it
gréewe
,
By
which
hée
honge
,
and
in
the
same
did
leape
,
Their
ramping
pawes
and
malice
to
eschew
.
Thus
as
hée
thought
the
perill
to
escape
,
Hée
did
discry
a
mightie
Dragon
fell
,
With
open
mouth
most
hidiously
to
gape
:
Him
to
deuour
in
bottome
of
the
well
.
Then
lifting
vp
his
head
,
hée
looked
out
,
And
might
perceiue
the
Lions
still
remaine
,
Which
in
such
sort
beset
the
well
about
,
That
of
escape
,
all
hoping
was
in
vaine
.
Thus
as
with
death
himselfe
besiegde
hée
saw
,
A
chaunce
befell
,
which
made
him
more
dismayde
,
Two
beastes
,
one
white
,
the
other
blacke
did
knaw
,
The
little
twigges
,
that
him
from
falling
stayde
.
With
daunger
thus
desette
on
euery
side
,
Hée
in
a
hole
,
behinde
his
backe
did
finde
,
A
honny
pot
,
which
some
man
there
did
hide
,
Now
casting
all
his
care
out
of
his
minde
,
Hée
with
one
hand
the
honny
swéete
did
tast
:
The
other
did
from
falling
him
sustaine
:
Vntill
the
beastes
had
gnawne
the
twigs
at
last
,
That
downe
hée
fell
,
and
ruthfully
was
slaine
.
This
well
,
the
world
doth
truely
represent
,
In
which
wée
liue
in
daunger
euery
houre
:
By
Lions
foure
the
elements
are
meant
,
Which
dayly
séeke
all
mankinde
to
deuoure
.
The
Dragon
fell
,
doth
signifie
our
graue
,
The
twigges
self
loue
,
the
beasts
,
the
night
and
day
,
The
honny
pot
,
the
great
desire
we
haue
To
worldly
ioyes
,
euen
to
our
soules
decay
.
Ech
one
therfore
,
I
earnestly
aduise
,
Héere
in
this
world
to
vse
themselues
so
well
▪
And
spend
their
dayes
in
such
a
godly
wise
,
That
after
death
their
soules
in
heauen
may
dwell
.
Farewell
Court
.
The
Preface
to
a
Treatise
ensuing
,
compyled
by
the
Authour
,
vpon
a
theme
giuen
by
his
approued
friend
and
kinsman
Maister
A.
D.
I
Haue
,
according
to
my
promise
,
though
slenderly
,
compiled
this
simple
discourse
on
the
theme
that
yee
gaue
me
,
which
was
your
Farwel
to
the
court
:
which
although
it
be
nothing
so
well
handled
,
as
by
some
experienced
courtier
it
might
haue
beene
done
:
neuerthelesse
it
being
considered
,
that
my
education
hath
beene
so
far
distant
from
the
court
,
that
I
neuer
sawe
the
fashions
of
the
court
,
I
hope
that
the
priuiledge
of
a
pardon
may
bee
purchased
for
my
excuse
in
this
behalfe
.
I
haue
heerein
introduced
Witte
and
Wil
as
two
domestical
counsellers
,
alwayes
attendant
on
a
man
marching
in
this
vale
of
miserie
:
The
one
giuing
him
trustie
and
wholsome
admonitions
,
how
hee
should
here
direct
his
life
to
the
glory
of
God
,
and
his
soules
health
:
The
other
with
the
flattering
alluremets
of
the
sinfull
flesh
,
enticeth
him
to
the
pursutes
of
the
pleasures
of
this
worlde
,
in
the
end
drouning
him
in
the
puddle
of
al
abhomination
,
to
the
vtter
confusion
both
of
body
and
soule
.
Vnder
the
person
of
Wit
is
prefigured
a
man
,
hauing
a
certaine
carefull
regarde
of
his
calling
,
which
is
once
in
a
mans
life
instilled
into
the
harts
of
those
,
whome
God
hath
sealed
vp
vnto
saluation
,
and
causeth
them
cleane
to
cast
away
the
vile
and
vaine
vanities
that
the
wicked
world
accounteth
as
precious
,
and
addict
all
their
doings
towards
the
attainement
of
lyfe
euerlasting
.
Vnder
the
person
of
Wil
,
is
picturde
out
,
how
a
man
letting
flippe
the
bridle
of
his
affections
,
is
caryed
from
the
precious
paths
of
perfect
felicitie
,
to
the
ineuitable
daungers
of
drowning
Caribdis
:
and
so
passing
the
sea
of
this
world
,
not
stopping
his
eares
with
the
waxe
of
vnderstanding
,
the
voluptuous
pleasures
thereof
,
as
subtill
Sirens
,
entice
him
to
the
folowing
of
them
,
whome
they
presently
drown
in
such
delights
,
that
he
hath
neuer
farther
regarde
to
the
preseruing
of
his
soule
,
but
imitating
the
nature
of
bruite
beastes
,
addicteth
himselfe
onely
vnto
that
,
which
his
owne
sensuall
appetite
shal
allowe
to
be
good
.
Although
this
may
,
peraduenture
seeme
vnto
you
,
a
too
far
fetched
circumstance
,
little
or
nothing
pertinent
to
the
purpose
:
yet
my
hope
is
,
that
when
yee
haue
throughly
perused
it
,
yee
shall
not
finde
the
theme
that
ye
gaue
me
,
left
altogether
vntouched
.
The
best
is
,
I
know
your
thankfull
disposition
to
be
such
,
that
how
soeuer
it
be
,
being
willingly
offered
,
it
shal
not
of
you
be
vngratefully
accepted
.
Thus
referring
the
view
heereof
to
your
discret
consideration
,
I
wishe
you
and
yours
abundance
of
such
prosperitie
,
as
your
heart
desireth
.
H.
G.
Farewell
Court
.
I
Youth
,
when
Fancie
bare
the
sway
,
Within
my
péeuish
braine
:
And
Reasons
lore
by
no
meanes
could
My
wanton
will
restraine
:
My
gadding
minde
did
pricke
me
forth
,
A
courtiers
life
to
proue
:
Whose
golden
shewes
,
and
vaine
delights
,
My
senses
then
did
moue
.
Not
halfe
so
fast
the
bowdged
shippe
,
The
water
in
doth
drinke
:
When
foes
by
force
of
roring
gunnes
,
Endeuour
her
to
sinke
:
As
when
the
floodes
of
fond
desires
,
Came
rumbling
in
my
head
:
Which
clean
extinguisht
Vertues
sparks
,
That
Nature
there
had
bred
.
No
power
I
had
the
sinfull
snares
Of
filthy
vice
to
shunne
:
My
good
desires
did
melt
away
,
As
snow
against
the
sunne
.
If
wit
somtimes
would
goe
about
,
Mée
wisely
to
perswade
,
How
that
I
spent
my
time
amisse
,
And
vsde
a
naughtie
trade
.
Then
wilfull
will
would
bée
at
hand
,
And
plucke
mée
by
the
sléeue
:
And
tell
mée
plaine
,
wit
was
a
foole
,
And
could
no
counsell
geue
.
His
lores
(
quoth
will
)
are
very
sowre
,
His
precepts
are
but
colde
:
Doe
follow
mée
,
then
all
delights
To
vse
thou
mayst
bée
bolde
.
Hée
talkes
of
scripture
euery
hower
,
Vnsauery
to
disgest
:
And
I
will
alwayes
serue
thy
turne
,
With
that
which
likes
thée
best
.
Who
would
not
rather
rome
abroad
,
To
séeke
some
pleasaunt
sporte
:
Then
to
be
pend
in
study
fast
,
Like
souldier
in
a
forte
?
To
hawke
,
to
hunt
,
to
carde
,
to
dice
,
To
sing
,
to
daunce
,
to
play
:
And
can
there
bée
more
pleasaunt
meanes
,
To
driue
away
the
day
?
To
tosse
the
buckler
and
the
blade
,
Lewd
women
to
entice
:
Are
not
these
vertues
most
estéemde
,
And
had
in
greatest
price
?
To
lend
ech
man
a
firiendly
looke
,
And
vse
the
glosers
arte
:
In
outward
shew
to
beare
good
will
,
And
hate
him
with
our
heart
.
Are
not
such
men
as
flatter
best
,
In
euery
coast
estéemde
?
Is
not
Tom
teltroath
euery
where
,
A
busie
cockscombe
déeme
?
It
is
a
world
to
sée
the
sotte
,
To
haue
a
checke
,
hée
knowes
:
And
yet
the
noddy
neuer
linnes
,
Mens
vices
to
disclose
.
Hée
euer
telles
men
of
their
faultes
Such
is
his
rude
behauiour
,
When
hée
by
speaking
nought
at
all
,
Might
purchase
greater
fauour
.
Who
countes
it
not
a
wisemans
parte
,
To
runne
with
hare
and
hound
?
To
say
and
vnsay
with
one
breath
,
So
winning
may
bée
found
:
Wherefore
reioyce
,
set
coc●e
on
hoope
,
Let
nothing
make
thée
sad
,
Bée
mery
héere
:
when
thou
art
dead
,
No
mirth
can
then
bée
had
.
Thus
wanton
will
would
euery
day
Still
whisper
in
mine
eare
:
And
wit
,
which
could
not
then
be
heard
,
Was
fled
I
know
not
where
.
Who
tries
the
hazard
of
the
seas
,
By
sturdy
tempest
tost
:
If
that
a
drunkard
guide
their
ship
,
Are
they
not
quickly
lost
?
How
like
(
I
pray
you
)
is
hée
then
,
To●
suffer
shipwracke
still
,
Whose
wit
and
wisdome
gouernde
is
,
By
his
vnruly
will
?
This
Pilot
vile
,
in
mée
long
time
,
Did
maisters
roome
supply
:
Till
good
Aduice
did
tell
mée
plaine
,
I
ranne
my
course
awry
.
Hée
spyed
a
time
to
breake
his
minde
,
When
Will
was
gone
apart
:
And
thus
to
mée
he
did
vnfolde
,
The
secretes
of
his
heart
.
O
Man
,
for
whome
Christ
on
the
crosse
,
His
precious
blood
did
spill
:
What
dost
thou
meane
in
mundane
toyes
To
spend
thy
time
so
ill
?
Dost
thou
not
thinke
that
God
hath
eies
.
To
sée
thy
vile
abuse
?
What
shew
of
reason
canst
thou
bring
,
Thy
rashnes
to
excuse
?
Did
Christ
sustaine
must
bitter
death
,
All
sinne●●
to
red●eme
:
And
wilt
thou
wallow
still
in
lust
?
And
not
his
lawes
estéeme
?
If
he
by
death
,
and
no
meanes
els
,
Mens
sinfull
soules
could
saue
,
Doest
thou
then
thinke
by
wanton
life
,
Eternall
ioyes
to
haue
?
Too
too
too
much
thou
art
deceaude
,
If
so
thou
doe
beléeue
:
That
he
to
haue
men
liue
in
vice
,
Himselfe
to
death
would
geue
.
With
vpright
eye
peruse
his
lawes
:
And
thou
shalt
cléerely
sée
,
Into
what
sinkes
of
deadly
sinne
,
Thy
will
hath
carried
thée
.
Thine
eyes
doe
sée
,
thine
eares
doe
heare
:
Thy
senses
all
doe
serue
thée
,
Yet
canst
thou
neyther
heare
nor
sée
,
Such
thinges
as
should
preserue
thée
.
In
earthly
toyes
thou
canst
discerne
That
which
may
best
auayle
thée
,
But
in
such
thing
as
touch
thy
soule
,
Thy
eyesight
still
doeth
fayle
thée
.
O
what
a
madnesse
moues
thy
minde
▪
Thou
séest
and
hast
thy
senses
:
Yet
wilt
thou
blindly
wallow
still
,
In
filth
of
vile
●ffences
.
It
better
were
for
one
to
be
,
Of
sight
depriued
cléere
,
Then
sée
to
sinne
,
and
not
sée
that
Which
chiefly
should
be
séen●
.
Take
héede
therefore
:
at
length
repent
,
It
s
better
late
then
neuer
:
For
Christ
the
Cockle
from
the
corne
,
At
haruest
will
disseuer
.
At
day
of
doome
,
the
good
and
bad
,
Shall
not
alike
remayne
:
The
good
shall
taste
vncessant
ioyes
:
The
bad
eternall
payne
.
Doste
thinke
that
such
as
tospotlike
,
Set
all
at
sixe
and
seuen
,
Are
in
a
ready
way
to
bring
Their
sinfull
soules
to
heauen
?
And
those
that
in
great
Princes
Courtes
,
Doe
Ruffian
like
behaue
them
,
Doste
déeme
that
they
thereby
procure
,
A
ready
meane
to
saue
them
?
To
sweare
,
to
stare
,
to
bib
&
bowse
,
To
flatter
,
glose
,
and
lye
,
Is
this
(
tell
me
)
the
stedfast
fayth
,
That
men
are
saued
by
?
If
white
be
blacke
,
if
night
be
day
,
If
true
pretence
,
bée
treason
:
If
fire
be
colde
,
if
senselesse
things
Fulfill
the
rule
of
reason
.
Then
may
the
pleasures
of
this
worlde
,
Be
cause
of
our
saluation
,
For
otherwise
,
thou
must
confesse
,
They
further
our
damnation
.
Take
héede
therefore
,
and
warned
thus
,
Let
not
the
worlde
beguile
thée
,
Ne
let
the
lustes
of
lawlesse
flesh
,
With
sinfull
déedes
defile
thée
.
Let
wilfull
will
be
banisht
cleane
,
With
all
his
wanton
toyes
,
Which
filles
thy
head
with
vayne
delightes
,
In
stéede
of
stedfast
ioyes
.
Note
well
my
wordes
,
still
serue
the
Lorde
,
Repent
and
sinne
no
more
,
Christ
hath
for
true
repentaunt
heartes
,
Great
mercie
still
in
store
.
When
good
aduice
had
tolde
this
tale
,
Prostrate
I
downe
did
fall
,
And
humbly
holding
vp
my
handes
,
Thus
on
the
Lorde
did
call
.
OMighty
God
which
for
vs
men
,
Didst
suffer
on
the
Crosse
,
The
payneful
pangues
of
bitter
death
,
To
saue
our
soules
from
losse
,
I
yéeld
thée
héere
most
hearty
thankes
,
In
that
thou
doest
vouchsaue
,
Of
me
most
vile
and
sinfull
wretch
,
So
great
regard
to
haue
.
Alas
none
euer
had
more
cause
,
To
magnifie
thy
name
,
Then
I
,
to
whom
thy
mercies
shewde
,
Doe
witnesse
well
the
same
.
So
many
brunts
of
fretting
foes
,
Who
euer
could
withstand
,
If
thou
hadst
not
protected
me
,
with
thy
most
holy
hand
?
A
thousand
times
in
shamefull
sort
,
My
sinfull
life
had
ended
,
If
by
thy
gratious
goodnesse
Lorde
,
I
had
not
byn
defended
.
In
stinking
pooles
of
filthy
vice
,
So
déepely
was
I
drownde
,
That
none
there
was
but
thée
alone
,
To
set
my
foote
on
ground
.
Whenas
the
fiend
had
led
my
soule
Euen
to
the
gates
of
hell
,
Thou
caldst
mée
backe
,
and
doest
me
choose
,
In
heauen
with
thée
to
dwell
,
Let
furies
now
fret
on
their
fill
:
Let
Sathan
rage
and
rore
,
As
long
as
thou
art
on
my
side
,
What
néede
I
care
for
more
?
MY
Prayer
sayde
:
me
thought
I
felt
Such
quiet
in
my
mynde
,
As
shipmen
after
tempest
past
,
In
wished
harbour
finde
.
My
wil
woulde
then
no
more
presume
,
To
rule
in
reasons
place
,
For
good
aduice
would
bée
at
hand
,
His
doyngs
to
disgrace
.
Who
tolde
me
playne
that
wanton
will
,
Did
alwayes
serue
the
Diuell
,
And
was
his
busiest
instrument
,
To
stirre
vp
men
to
euill
.
Although
the
gallant
be
so
braue
,
And
sell
such
pleasures
here
,
They
that
best
cheape
doe
buy
the
same
,
Shall
find
it
all
too
déere
.
Yet
they
that
woulde
aduenture
there
,
The
Diuell
and
all
may
gayne
.
With
euery
inch
of
pleasant
ioyes
,
He
selles
ten
Elles
of
payne
.
If
that
thou
wisely
wilt
foresée
,
Such
winnings
to
eschew
,
Ere
beggery
take
thée
by
the
backe
,
Doe
byd
the
Court
adew
.
Hencefoorth
exile
vile
wanton
will
,
Which
is
thy
chéefest
foe
,
Goe
get
thée
home
:
liue
to
thy selfe
,
And
let
all
courting
goe
.
Experience
now
should
make
thée
know
,
What
vice
in
court
doth
rayne
,
And
tract
of
time
shoulde
teach
thée
shunne
Her
pleasures
mixt
with
payne
,
Though
some
may
dayly
there
be
séene
,
That
follow
vertue
still
,
Which
honour
God
,
obey
their
Prince
,
And
flie
from
dooyng
ill
,
Yet
sure
,
of
them
the
greatest
parte
Are
carried
so
away
With
vayne
delightes
,
that
they
ne
thinke
,
Nor
mynde
their
soules
decay
.
O
that
I
here
tolde
not
a
lye
,
O
,
were
it
not
too
true
:
That
very
few
,
theyr
Princesse
steppes
,
In
godlinesse
ensue
.
Should
I
passe
on
her
golden
giftes
And
graces
to
declare
?
The
sandes
in
bottome
of
the
Seas
,
More
easily
numbred
are
.
If
tongue
or
pen
should
take
in
hand
,
Her
vertues
to
vnfolde
,
Tongue
should
not
speake
,
pen
would
be
worne
Ere
halfe
the
tale
were
tolde
.
Shée
is
(
next
God
)
the
onely
spring
,
From
which
our
welfare
flowes
:
She
is
a
trée
,
on
which
nought
els
,
But
graftes
of
goodnesse
growes
.
Shée
is
a
Sunne
that
shines
on
vs
,
with
beames
of
blissefull
happes
,
Shée
is
a
dew
that
daily
drops
,
Great
plenty
in
our
lappes
.
When
angry
Neptune
shipwracke
threats
,
Through
force
of
wrestling
waues
Shée
is
a
port
of
safe
refuge
,
Which
vs
from
daunger
saues
.
When
duskie
cloudes
of
errors
blacke
,
Had
dimde
our
ioyfull
day
,
Through
Christ
shée
causde
the
Gospell
shine
Which
draue
them
all
away
.
Shée
worthy
statutes
hath
ordaynd
,
To
kéepe
men
still
in
awe
,
But
euery
man
vnto
himselfe
,
Will
now
set
downe
a
lawe
,
Such
as
his
will
doth
fancy
best
,
They
neuer
care
how
bad
,
Nor
farre
from
God
and
godlinesse
,
So
pleasure
may
be
had
.
If
lawlesse
lust
were
lawfull
loue
,
If
wauering
wordes
were
déedes
,
Then
would
the
Court
bring
foorth
more
fruite
,
And
not
so
many
wéedes
.
Thou
knowest
among
the
courting
crew
,
How
little
fayth
is
forced
:
Sound
friendship
from
the
most
of
them
.
Is
vtterly
deuorced
.
Who
cannot
flatter
,
glose
and
lie
,
And
set
thereon
a
face
,
Is
neuer
able
for
his
life
,
To
get
a
Courtly
grace
.
Who
sweates
not
in
his
sutes
of
silke
,
And
is
not
passing
braue
,
Amongst
them
beares
no
countenance
,
They
déeme
him
but
a
slaue
As
long
as
thou
hast
store
of
coyne
,
And
spendst
it
with
the
best
,
In
outward
shew
great
friendlinesse
,
To
thée
shal
be
profest
.
But
if
thy
wealth
begin
to
weare
,
If
pence
begin
to
fayle
thée
,
Theyr
friendship
then
in
time
of
néede
,
But
little
shall
auayle
thee
.
For
they
will
shrinke
their
heades
aside
,
And
leaue
thée
posts
alone
,
If
twenty
were
thy
friendes
before
,
Now
hardly
getst
thou
one
.
I
pray
thée
let
vs
scan
this
case
,
And
doe
thou
sadly
tell
,
What
thing
at
first
,
did
make
thée
like
,
And
loue
the
Court
so
well
?
Didst
thinke
that
there
a
godly
life
,
Might
soonest
be
attaynde
,
And
motions
of
the
sinfull
fleshe
,
Most
easily
be
refraynd
?
That
cannot
be
,
for
all
men
sée
,
How
vice
is
there
imbraste
,
And
vertue
with
the
greatest
parte
,
Is
vtterly
defaste
.
Did
hope
of
wealth
,
first
pricke
thée
foorth
,
In
Court
to
spend
thy
life
?
Or
didst
thou
thinke
that
liberal
gifts
,
With
noble
men
were
ryfe
?
If
ought
thou
carrie
in
thy
purse
,
Thou
quickly
there
mayst
spend
it
:
But
when
thy
landes
,
and
rentes
are
gone
,
How
canst
thou
then
amend
it
?
To
begge
would
gréeue
thy
loftie
mynde
,
That
earst
had
store
of
wealth
,
And
hanging
is
the
end
of
such
,
as
take
mens
goodes
by
stealth
.
Because
thou
serust
a
noble
man
,
Perhaps
thou
makst
no
doubt
,
In
hope
that
he
at
such
a
pinche
,
Will
alwayes
beare
thée
out
.
Such
hope
hath
hanged
many
a
one
,
Whom
wilful
Will
did
guyde
:
By
often
proofe
in
these
our
dayes
,
Too
true
it
hath
béene
tried
.
For
when
a
halters
sliding
knot
,
Hath
stopt
their
vitall
breath
,
He
was
(
say
they
)
a
handsome
man
,
Its
pitie
of
his
death
.
Thus
all
too
late
their
pitie
comes
,
But
seldome
comes
their
ayde
,
Wherefore
doe
not
forget
these
wordes
.
That
I
to
thée
haue
sayde
,
Be
not
sedewste
by
wanton
will
,
Let
warnings
make
thee
wise
.
And
after
this
in
all
thy
déedes
,
Be
rulde
by
good
aduise
.
This
tale
béeyng
tolde
,
he
heald
his
peace
,
And
I
which
found
it
true
,
Did
yéeld
him
thankes
and
gate
me
home
,
And
bad
the
Court
adew
.
We
till
to
sowe
,
we
sow
to
reape
,
We
reape
and
grind
it
by
and
by
:
We
grinde
to
bake
,
we
bake
to
eate
,
We
eate
to
liue
,
we
liue
to
die
.
We
die
with
Christ
to
rest
in
ioy
,
In
heauen
made
free
from
all
anoy
.
FINIS
.
A
Preface
to
certaine
questions
and
Riddles
ensuing
,
translated
out
of
Italian
verse
,
into
english
verse
,
by
H.
G.
AL
yee
vnto
whome
the
skanning
and
viewing
,
Shal
come
of
these
questions
,
&
riddles
ensuing
:
I
let
you
first
know
thus
much
without
fayning
,
That
all
of
them
carry
a
good
and
cleane
meaning
,
If
so
they
be
constred
aright
in
their
sense
,
Thus
much
may
I
boldly
speake
in
their
defence
:
But
if
in
ill
part
some
fortune
to
take
them
,
We
fayle
of
the
end
,
to
which
we
did
make
them
.
Which
was
for
the
solace
of
them
that
can
vse
them
.
What
thinges
can
be
sound
,
if
men
wil
abuse
them
?
To
such
as
are
cleane
,
what
can
be
vnpure
?
Such
as
are
defilde
,
ill
thoughts
haue
in
vre
,
If
of
any
riddle
badde
sense
ye
pick
out
,
Gesse
at
it
againe
:
ye
fayle
without
doubt
,
And
doe
not
aright
his
meaning
expound
:
Their
true
exposition
is
honest
and
sound
.
And
that
shall
be
proued
,
if
you
will
craue
tryall
,
So
truely
,
that
no
man
will
stand
in
deniall
.
Committing
the
sequel
to
your
approbation
,
I
finish
the
preface
of
this
my
translation
.
1
A
Father
once
,
as
bookes
expresse
,
Had
sonnes
twise
sixe
,
nor
more
nor
lesse
:
Ech
sonne
of
children
had
scores
thrée
,
Halfe
of
them
sonnes
,
halfe
daughters
bée
.
The
sonnes
are
farre
more
white
then
snowe
,
The
daughters
blacker
then
a
crow
.
Wee
sée
these
children
dayly
die
,
And
yet
they
liue
continually
.
2
A
mightie
blacke
horse
,
with
gallant
white
winges
,
Within
his
graund
paunch
beares
many
straunge
things
:
Hée
oft
doth
trauayle
for
maysters
auayle
,
And
caryes
his
bridle
tyed
fast
to
his
taile
.
In
going
hée
flyes
twixtearth
and
the
ayre
,
And
oft
,
where
they
would
not
,
his
riders
doth
beare
:
Hée
hath
diuers
eies
,
and
yet
cannot
sée
,
I
pray
you
doe
tell
mée
what
may
this
beast
bée
?
3
A
certaine
thing
liueth
in
place
néere
at
hande
,
Whose
nature
is
straunge
,
if
it
bée
well
scand
:
It
sées
without
eyes
,
it
flyes
without
winges
.
It
runnes
without
féete
,
it
workes
wondrous
thinges
.
To
places
far
distant
it
often
doth
rome
:
Yet
neuer
departeth
,
but
taryes
at
home
.
If
thou
doe
it
couet
to
féele
or
to
sée
,
Thy
labour
is
lost
,
for
it
may
not
bée
.
4
What
am
I
that
wanting
,
both
handes
féete
and
head
,
Of
all
them
that
sée
me
,
being
déemed
for
dead
.
Of
breath
haue
great
store
,
and
moue
too
and
fro
,
Now
vp
,
and
now
downe
,
now
hye
,
and
now
low
?
Alas
what
hard
fortune
doth
to
mée
befall
:
That
guiltlesse
am
spited
of
great
and
of
small
.
They
strike
me
,
and
push
mee
,
South
,
West
,
North
&
East
:
Yet
doe
I
no
harme
to
most
,
neither
least
.
When
as
my
breath
fayling
,
I
can
doe
no
more
,
They
then
giue
mée
ouer
,
and
neuer
before
.
5
I
being
the
daughter
of
my
vncles
brother
,
Am
now
of
late
become
a
mother
:
And
with
my
milke
from
my
pappes
which
flowes
,
I
nourish
a
sonne
,
my
mothers
owne
spowse
,
Now
tell
what
I
am
,
declare
mine
estate
,
For
I
giue
him
sucke
,
that
first
me
begate
.
6
None
liueth
more
iocound
in
al
the
whole
land
,
Though
head
doth
lye
buryed
in
mucke
and
in
sand
:
My
beard
it
is
gray
,
though
not
very
old
,
The
strong
I
make
wéepe
,
nor
for
heate
,
nor
for
cold
:
Yet
such
is
my
state
,
that
the
poore
loue
me
well
.
And
stil
I
am
forst
with
great
men
to
dwell
.
7
From
south
and
west
commeth
a
straunge
warlike
nation
,
Atti●de
and
apparel●
in
wonderfull
fashion
:
In
garments
milke
white
,
these
people
are
clad
,
Which
strike
and
oppresse
both
good
men
and
bad
,
But
fauour
they
shew
in
dealing
their
blowes
.
And
saue
him
from
danger
,
ech
on
his
way
goes
.
And
on
his
backe
caryes
dead
bodyes
great
store
,
Which
with
their
thicke
buffets
had
beate
them
before
,
Great
furies
are
kindled
at
end
of
the
fray
:
Which
makes
this
straunge
nation
all
vanish
away
.
8
Long
is
it
since
first
to
the
world
I
came
,
Small
am
I
of
body
,
poore
,
féeble
,
and
lame
▪
Yet
none
in
this
world
,
nor
one
neyther
other
,
In
richesse
and
substaunce
surpasseth
my
mother
.
8
Not
long
am
I
graunted
this
life
to
enioy
,
So
many
there
are
that
worke
mée
annoy
.
O
Lord
how
they
rent
mée
,
it
cannot
bée
told
:
What
torments
I
suffer
in
heat
and
in
cold
.
One
while
am
I
drowned
,
such
hap
doth
befal
,
Then
next
doe
they
rost
me
:
yet
this
is
not
al.
When
thus
they
haue
vsde
me
,
they
cannot
forbeare
me
,
Ere
first
being
beaten
,
by
péecemeale
they
teare
me
.
Then
serue
I
the
turne
of
euery
estate
,
But
one
kinde
of
people
mée
deadly
doth
hate
.
9
Doe
tell
me
my
friends
,
what
creature
is
hée
,
That
two
times
is
borne
,
as
all
men
may
sée
,
And
liueth
a
space
,
though
not
very
long
:
And
often
is
killed
,
not
hauing
done
wrong
?
When
that
his
breath
fayleth
,
it
liueth
no
more
,
It
then
is
baptised
,
and
neuer
before
.
Though
many
a
one
doe
euill
entreate
it
,
They
loue
it
right
well
,
and
often
doe
eate
it
.
10
A
certain
dead
creature
in
mine
armes
I
take
,
With
her
back
to
my
bosome
,
great
glée
doth
she
make
.
As
thus
I
doe
hold
her
,
she
greatly
doth
chéere
mée
,
And
wel
are
they
pleased
,
that
sée
me
and
heare
mée
.
Whilst
erst
it
remayned
in
forest
and
field
,
It
silent
remayning
,
no
speech
forth
did
yéeld
.
But
since
she
of
life
,
by
death
was
depriued
,
With
language
shée
speaketh
,
mens
sprites
are
reuiued
.
11
A
father
begat
me
,
yet
I
haue
no
mother
.
Nor
Uncle
nor
aunt
,
nor
sister
,
nor
brother
.
Straight
when
I
was
born
,
I
began
to
florish
,
For
euery
estate
tooke
care
me
to
norish
,
Thus
many
score
yéeres
,
they
haue
loued
me
full
well
:
And
eke
entertaind
me
,
amongst
them
to
dwell
,
All
partes
of
the
world
I
viewd
in
short
space
:
And
still
was
bad
welcome
,
in
euery
place
.
Though
many
by
me
,
reape
losse
,
care
,
and
woe
,
They
neuer
will
licence
me
from
them
to
goe
.
12
Hard
fortun
doth
haunt
me
,
by
nature
estranged
From
male
into
female
,
I
often
am
chaunged
.
And
where
as
before
I
liud
well
contented
,
With
prickings
and
punchings
I
now
am
tormented
:
Now
,
more
to
accomplish
their
gréedy
desire
,
They
cruelly
heate
mee
,
and
scortch
me
with
fire
.
Though
badly
they
vse
mée
,
so
milde
am
I
still
:
That
I
yéelde
them
life
that
thus
doe
mée
kill
.
13
Amongst
the
firiendships
rare
,
Of
which
old
writers
tell
:
This
may
bée
plaste
in
highest
roome
,
And
doth
deserue
it
well
.
Whiles
death
with
gasping
throte
Did
gape
for
bloody
pray
,
Life
conquered
death
,
and
saude
that
life
,
Which
death
did
séeke
to
slay
.
That
life
which
did
this
déede
,
As
death
would
straight
haue
slain
:
That
life
which
late
by
him
was
saude
,
Preserude
from
death
againe
.
14
Begot
father
,
in
earth
I
remaine
,
And
oft
I
am
turnd
,
to
my
mother
againe
.
By
night
and
by
day
I
labour
alwaies
,
And
with
my
sharp
sauor
both
please
&
displease
.
Thus
héere
in
this
earth
my
race
out
I
runne
:
And
neuer
haue
issue
,
nor
daughter
,
nor
sonne
.
15
A
female
I
by
name
,
Am
sister
to
a
brother
:
In
all
the
world
may
not
bée
found
,
Our
like
,
nor
one
nor
other
.
For
hée
no
sooner
dies
,
But
I
straightwayes
doe
liue
:
And
I
oft
yéelding
vnto
death
,
Still
life
to
him
doe
giue
.
Oft
after
him
I
hie
,
And
gladly
would
him
stay
:
But
hée
than
arow
from
the
bow
,
More
swiftly
flyes
away
.
Straight
wayes
hée
folowes
me
,
My
presence
to
attaine
:
And
as
hée
fled
from
me
before
,
I
flye
from
him
againe
.
Though
straunge
our
state
doth
séeme
,
By
proofe
yée
may
it
try
:
That
both
of
vs
are
still
aliue
,
Yet
both
doe
dayly
die
.
That
yée
may
better
know
,
What
straungers
great
wée
bée
.
Wee
day
and
night
doe
dine
and
sup
,
With
men
of
ech
degrée
.
16
Two
are
we
in
name
,
though
in
substaunce
but
one
,
First
framed
by
arte
then
finisht
with
mone
.
Before
we
are
ready
,
for
those
that
will
buy
,
Through
greatnesse
of
torment
,
wée
howle
and
wée
Cry
.
Yet
féele
we
no
griefe
,
for
all
this
anoy
,
Great
numbers
by
vs
haue
comfort
and
ioy
.
Who
when
for
their
profits
we
haue
done
what
wée
may
,
They
then
do
reiect
vs
,
and
cast
vs
away
.
17
Fayre
art
thou
and
●●d
,
deseruing
great
praise
,
And
all
men
thée
reuerence
,
and
honour
alwayes
,
Whiles
that
thy
white
banner
abrode
still
is
spread
,
For
then
thou
doest
comfort
both
liuing
and
dead
,
But
if
thy
blacke
banner
bée
spread
foorth
in
vew
,
All
honour
farewell
,
all
gladnesse
adew
.
Such
woe
then
thou
bringest
to
more
and
to
lesse
,
As
pen
cannot
write
it
,
nor
tongue
may
expresse
.
18.
Of
thée
(
O
my
friend
)
a
thing
I
doe
craue
,
Which
thou
neuer
hadst
,
nor
neuer
shalt
haue
.
If
that
for
thy selfe
thou
purpose
to
gayne
it
,
Thy
labour
is
lost
,
thou
mayst
not
obtayne
it
.
Although
thou
shouldst
liue
a
whole
thousand
yéere
,
And
séeke
it
,
yet
shouldst
thou
be
nothing
the
néere
.
Now
if
thou
doe
loue
me
,
euen
so
as
thou
sayest
,
Doe
geue
it
.
For
truely
,
I
know
that
thou
mayst
.
The
solutions
of
the
riddles
.
1
THe
father
the
yéere
:
the
xii
.
sonnes
,
the
xii
.
months
:
the
ix
.
children
,
the
xxx
.
dayes
,
and
xxx
.
nights
.
2
A
Ship
.
3
Amans
minde
.
4
A
footeball
made
of
a
bladder
.
5
An
old
man
being
in
prison
,
his
daughter
comming
to
visite
him
,
woulde
geue
him
sucke
of
her
breasts
&
so
nourish
him
.
6
An
Onion
.
7
Men
trauellng
in
the
snow
are
beaten
with
it
,
and
carry
the
dead
bodies
on
their
garments
vntill
they
come
to
a
fire
,
which
makes
them
vanish
away
.
8
Hempe
.
9
A
chicken
,
being
first
an
Egge
,
&
then
a
chicken
.
10
A
Lute
.
11
Play
at
all
kinde
of
games
,
12
Wheat
being
the
Newter
Gender
,
in
Latin
is
turned
into
farinam
,
meale
,
which
is
the
feminine
,
which
is
then
connerted
into
bread
,
&
so
nourisheth
them
that
bake
it
.
13
A
man
comming
to
a
fountaine
to
drinke
,
saw
a
serpent
climbing
vp
on
a
trée
,
to
deuour
a
neast
of
young
Egles
,
which
serpent
hee
slewe
with
his
sworde
,
and
so
saued
their
liues
,
beeing
about
then
to
drink
of
the
water
,
the
young
birdes
,
scraping
out
the
filth
of
their
nests
fowled
it
in
such
sort
,
that
it
letted
him
from
drinking
:
a
spaniel
that
he
had
there
with
him
,
tasting
of
it
,
was
presently
poysoned
.
14
Salt
.
15
The
night
and
day
.
16
A
paire
of
sheares
.
17
A
good
tongue
and
a
bad
18
A
mayde
béeing
in
loue
with
a
young
man
,
desires
him
to
geue
her
a
husbande
,
which
in
marriyng
with
her
hée
might
doe
.