Fidessa, more chaste then kinde. By B. Griffin, gent

TO FIDESSA .

SONNET . I. Fertur fortunam fortuna fauêere ferenti . FIdessa faire , long liue a happie maiden , Blest from thy cradle by a worthie mother : High-thoughted ( like to her ) with bountie laden , Like pleasing grace affoording one and other . Sweet modell of thy same renowned Sire , Hold backe while thy euer-giuing hand : And though these fine pend lines do nought require , For that they scorne at base Reward to stand : Yet craue they most , for that they begge the least , Dumbe is the message of my hidden griefe , And store of speech by silence is increast , Oh let me die or purchase some reliefe . Bounteous Fidessa cannot be so cruell , As for to make my heart her fancies fuell .

SONNET . II. HOw can that piercing christall-painted eye , That gaue the onset to my high-aspiring , Yeelding each looke of mine a sweet replve , Adding new courage to my hearts desiring ? How can it shut it selfe within her Arke , And keepe her selfe and me both from the light : Making vs walke in al-misguiding darke , Aye to remaine in confines of the night ? How is it that so little roome containes it , ( That guides the Orient , as the world the Sunne ? ) Which once obscur'd , most bitterly complaines it , Because it knowes and rules what ere is done . The reason is , that they may dread her sight , Who doth both giue and take away their light .

SONNET . III. VEnus , and yong Adonis sitting by her , Vnder a Myrtle shade began to woe him : She told the yong-ling how god Mars did trie her , And as he fell to her , so fell she to him . Euen thus ( quoth she ) the wanton god embrac'd me , ( And then she clasp'd Adonis in her armes ) Euen thus ( quoth she ) the warlike god vnlac'd me , As if the boy should vse like louing charmes . But he a wayward boy refusde her offer , And ran away , the beautious Queene neglecting : Shewing both folly to abuse her proffer , And all his sex of cowardise detecting . Oh that I had my mistris at that bay , To kisse and clippe me till I ranne away !

SONNET . IIII. DId you sometimes three German brethren soe Rancor twixt two of them so raging rife , That th' one could stick the other with his knife ? Now if the third assaulted chance to bee By a fourth strange , him set on the three : Them two twixt whom afore was deadly strife , Made one to robbe the stranger of his life . Then doe you know our state aswell as we , Beautie and Chastitie with her were borne Both at one birth , and vp with her did grow : Beautie still foe to Chastitie was sworne , And Chastitie sworne to be Beauties foe : And yet when I lay siege vnto her heart , Beautie and Chastitie both take her part .

SONNET . V. ARraign'd poore captiue at the barre I stand , The barre of Beautie , barre to all my ioyes , And vp I hold my euer-trembling hand ▪ Wishing or life or death to end annoyes . And when the Iudge doth question of the guilt , And bids me speake , then sorrow shuts vp words : Yea though he say , speake boldly what thou wilt , Yet my confusde affects no speech affoords . For why ( alas ) my passions haue no bound , For feare of death that penetrates so neere : And still one griefe another doth confound , Yet doth at length a way to speech appeere : Then ( for I speake too late ) the Iudge doth giue His sentence that in prison I shall liue .

SONNET . VI. VNhappie sentence , worst of worst of paines , To lie in darksome silence out of ken : Banisht from all that blisse the world containes , And thrust from out the companies of men . Vnhappie sentence , worse then worst of deaths , Neuer to see Fidessaes louely face : Oh better were I loose ten thousand breaths , Then euer liue in such vnseene disgrace . Vnhappie sentence , worse then paines of hell , To liue in self-tormenting griefes alone : Hauing my heart my prison and my cell , And there consum'd , without reliefe to mone . If that the sentence so vnhappie be , Then what am I that gaue the same to me ?

SONNET . VII . OFt haue mine eyes the Agents of mine heart , ( False traytor eyes conspiring my decay ) Pleaded for grace with dumbe and silent art , Streaming foorth teares my sorrowes to allay . Moning the wrong they doe vnto their Lord , Forcing the cruell faire by meanes to yeeld : Making her ( gainst her will ) some grace t' affoord , And striuing sore at length to winne the field . Thus worke they meanes to feed my fainting hope , And strengthened hope ads matter to each thought : Yet when they all come to their end and scope , They doe but whollie bring poore me to nought . She 'l neuer yeeld , although they euer crye , And therefore we must altogether dye .

SONNET . VIII . GRiefe vrging guest , great cause haue I to plaine me , Yet hope perswading hope expecteth grace : And saith none but my selfe shall euer paine me , But griefe my hopes exceedeth in this cace . For still my fortune euer more doth crosse me , By worse euents then euer I expected , And here and there ten thousand waies doth tosse me With sad remembrance of my time neglected . These breeds such thoughts as set my heart on fire , And like fell hounds pursue me to the death , Traytors vnto their Soueraigne Lord and Sire , Vnkind exacters of their father breath , Whom in their rage they shall no sooner kill , Then they themselues themselues vniustly spill .

SONNET . IX . MY spotles loue that neuer yet was tainted , My loyall heart that neuer can be moued : My growing hope that neuer yet hath fainted , My constancie that you full well haue proued . All these consented haue to pleade for grace , These all lye crying at the doore of Beautie : This wailes , this sends out teares , this cryes apace : All doe reward expect of faith and dutie . Now either thou must proue th' vnkindest one , And as thou fairest art , must cruelst be : Or els with pitie yeeld vnto their mone , Their mone that euer will importune thee . Ah thou must be vnkind and giue deniall , And I poore I must stand vnto my triall .

SONNET . X. CLip not sweet loue the wings of my desire , Although it soare aloft and mount too hie : But rather beare with me though I aspire : For I haue wings to beare me to the skie . What though I mount , there is no Sunne but thee ? And sith no other Sunne , why should I feare ? Thou wilt not burne me though thou terrifie : And though thy brightnes doe so great appeare , Deere , I seeke not to batter downe thy glorie , Nor doe I enuie that thy hope increaseth : Oh neuer thinke thy fame doth make me sorrie , For thou must liue by fame when beautie ceaseth . Besides , since from one roote we both did spring , Why should not I thy fame and beautie sing ?

SONNET . XI . WIng'd with sad woes , why doth faire Zephire blow Vpon my face , ( the map of discontent ) Is it to haue the weedes of sorrow grow So long and thicke , that they will nere bee spent ? No fondling , no , it is to coole the fire , Which hot desire within thy breast hath made : Check him but once , and he will soone retire : Oh but he sorrowes brought , which cannot fade . The sorrowes that he brought he tooke from thee , Which faire Fidessa spun , and thou must weare : Yet hath she nothing done of crueltie , But ( for her sake ) to trie what thou wilt beare . Come sorrowes come , you are to me assignde , I le beare you all : it is Fidessaes minde .

SONNET . XII . OH if my heauenly sighes must proue annoy , Which are the sweetest musicke to my heart : Let it suffice I count them as my ioy , Swwet bitter ioy , and pleasant painfull smart . For when my breast is clogg'd with thousand cares , That my poore loaded heart is like to breake : Then euery sigh doth question how it fares , Seeming to adde their strength : which makes me weake . Yet ( for they friendly are ) I entertaine them , And they too well are pleased with their boast : But I ( had not Fidessa been ) ere now , had slaine them , It 's for her cause they liue , in her they boast . They promise helpe , but when they see her face , They fainting yeeld , and dare not sue for grace .

SONNET . XIII . COmpare me to the child that plaies with fire , Or to the flye that dyeth in the flame : Or to the foolish boy that did aspire , To touch the glorie of high heauens frame . Compare me to Leander struggling in the waues , Not able to attaine his safeties shore : Or to the sicke that doe expect their graues , Or to the captiue crying euer more : Compare me to the weeping wounded Hart , Moning with teares the period of his life : Or to the Bore that will not feele his smart , When he is striken with the butchers knife . No man to these can fitly me compare ; These liue to dye : I dye to liue in care .

SONNET . XIIII . WHen silent sleepe had closed vp mine eyes , My watchfull minde did then begin to muse : A thousand pleasing thoughts did then arise , That sought by sleights their master to abuse . I saw ( oh heauenly sight ) Fidessaes face , ( And faire dame Nature blushing to behold it ) Now did she laugh , now winke , now smile apace , She tooke me by the hand , and fast did hold it . Sweetly her sweet bodie did she lay downe by me , Alas poore wretch ( quoth she ) great is thy sorrow : But thou shalt comfort find if thou wilt trie me , I hope ( sir boy ) you le tell me newes to morrow . With that away she went , and I did wake withall , When ( ah ) my hony thoughts were turn'd to gall .

SONNET . XV. CAre-charmer sleepe , sweet ease in restles miserie , The captiues libertie , and his freedomes song : Balme of the brused heart , mans chiefe felicitie , Brother of quiet death , when life is too too long . A Comedie it is , and now an Historie , What is not sleepe vnto the feeble minde ? It easeth him that toyles , and him that 's sorrie : It makes the deaffe to heare , to see the blinde . Vngentle sleepe , thou helpest all but me , For when I sleepe my soule is vexed most : It is Fidessa that doth master thee , If she approach ( alas ) thy power is lost . But here she is : see how he runnes amaine , I feare at night he will not come againe .

SONNET . XVI . FOr I haue loued long , I craue rewarde , Rewarde me not vnkindlie : thinke on kindnes ; Kindnes becommeth those of high regarde : Regard with clemencie a poore mans blindnes , Blindnes prouokes to pittie when it crieth , It crieth ( giue ) deere Lady shew some pittie ; Pittie , or let him die that day lie dieth : Dieth he not oft , who often sings this dittie ? This dittie pleaseth me although it choke me , Methinkes dame Eccho weepeth at my moning , Moning the woes , that to complaine prouoke me . Prouoke me now no more , but heare my groning ; Groning both night and day doth teare my hart , My hart doth know the cause , & triumphs in his smart .

SONNET . XVII . SWeet stroke ( so might I thriue ) as I must praise , But sweeter hand that giues so sweet a stroke : The Lute it selfe is sweetest , when she plaies , But what heare I ? a string through feare is broke . The Lute doth shake , as if it were afraide , Oh sure some Goddesse holds it in her hand ! A heauenly power that oft hath me dismaide , Yet such a power as doth in beautie stand . Cease Lute , my ceaseles suite will nere be heard : ( Ah too hard-hearted she that will not heare it ) If I but thinke on ioy , my ioy is mard , My griefe is great , yet euer must I beare it . But loue twixt vs will proue a faithfull page , And she will loue my sorrowes to asswage .

SONNET . XXVIII . OH she must loue my sorrowes to asswage , Oh God what ioy felt I when she did smile ? Whom killing griefe before did cause to rage , ( Beautie is able sorrow to beguile . ) Out traytor absence , thou doest hinder me , And mak'st my Mistris often to forget ; Causing me raile vpon her crueltie , Whil'st thou my suite iniuriously doest let . Againe , her presence doth astonish me , And strikes me dumbe , as if my sense were gone : Oh is not this a strange perplexitie ? In presence , dombe : she heares not absent mone . Thus absent presence , present absence maketh , That ( hearing my poore suite ) she it mistaketh .

SONNET . XIX . MY paine paints out my loue in dolefull verse , The liuely glasse wherein she may behold it ) My verse her wrong to me doth still rehearse : But so , as it lamenteth to vnfold it . My selfe with ceaseles teares my harmes bewaile , And her obdurate heart not to be moued : Though long continued woes my senses faile , And curse the day , the houre when first I loued . She takes the glasse , wherein her selfe she sees In bloudie colours cruelly depainted : And her poore prisoner humbly on his knees , Pleading for grace with heart that neuer fainted . She breakes the glasse , ( alas I cannot choose ) But grieue that I should so my labour loose .

SONNET . XX. GReat is the ioy that no tongue can expresse , Faire babe ( new borne ) how much doest thou delight me ? But what is mine so great ? yea no whit lesse So great , that of all woes it doth acquite me . It 's faire Fidessa that this comfort bringeth , Who sorrie for the wrongs by her procured , Delightfull tunes of loue of true loue singeth , Wherewith her too-chast thoughts were nere inured . She loues ( she saith ) but with a loue not blind , Her loue is counsaile that I should not loue , But vpon vertues fixe a staied mind : But what ? this new coynd loue , loue doth reproue . If this be loue of which you make such store , Sweet , loue me lesse , that you may loue me more .

SONNET . XXI . HE that will Caesar be , or els not be , ( Who can aspire to Caesars bleeding fame ? ) Must be of high resolue : but what is he That thinkes to gaine a second Caesars name . Who ere he be that climes aboue his strength , And climeth high , the greater is his fall : For though he sit a while , we see at length His slipperie place no firmnes hath at all . Great is his bruse that falleth from on high , This warneth me that I should not aspire : Examples should preuaile : I care not I , I perish must , or haue what I desire . This humour doth with mine full well agree , I must Fidessaes be , or els not be .

SONNET . XXII . IT was of loue vngentle gentle boy , That thou didst come and harbour in my brest : Not of intent my body to destroy , And haue my soule with restles cares opprest . But sith thy loue doth turne vnto my paine , Returne to Greece ( sweete lad ) where thou wast borne : Leaue me alone my griefes to entertaine , If thou forsake mee , I am lesse forlorne . Although alone , yet shall I finde more ease : Then see thou hie thee hence , or I will chase thee : Men highly wronged care not to displease : My fortune hangs on thee , thou doest disgrace me . Yet at thy farewell play a friendly part , To make amends , flye to Fidessaes hart .

SONNET . XXIII . FLye to her heart , houer about her heart , With daintie kisses mollifie her heart : Pierce with thy arrowes her obdurate heart , With sweet allurements euer moue her heart . At midday and at midnight touch her heart , Be lurking closely , nestle about her heart : With power , ( thou art a god ) command her heart , Kindle thy coales of loue about her heart , Yea euen into thy selfe transforme her heart . And she must loue , be sure thou haue her heart , And I must dye , if thou haue not her heart . Thy bed ( if thou rest well ) must be her heart : He hath the best part sure that hath the heart : What haue I not if I haue but her heart ?

SONNET . XXIIII . STriuing is past , ah I must sinke and drowne , And that in sight of long descried shore : I cannot send for ayd vnto the towne , All helpe is vaine , and I must dye therefore . Then poore distressed caytiue , be resolued To leaue this earthly dwelling fraught with care : Cease will thy woes , thy corps in earth inuolued , Thou dyest for her that will no helpe prepare . Oh see : my case her selfe doth now behold , The casement open is , she seemes to speake : But she is gone : oh then I dare be bold , And needs must say , she causde my heart to breake . I dye before I drowne , oh heauie case , It was because I saw my mistris face .

SONNET . XXV . COmpare me to Pygmalion with his image sotted , For ( as was he ) euen so am I deceiued : The shadow only is to me alotted , The substance hath of substance me bereued . Then poore and helples must I wander still , In deepe laments to passe succeeding daies : Weltring in woes that poore and mightie kill , Oh who is mightie that so soone decaies ! The dread almightie hath appoynted so , The finall period of all worldly things : That as in time they come , so must they goe , ( Death common is to beggers and to kings ) But whither doe I runne beside my text ? I runne to death , for death must be the next .

SONNET . XXVI . THe sillie bird that hasts vnto the net , And flutters to and fro till she be taken , Doth looke some foode or succour there to get , But looseth life , so much is she mistaken . The foolish flie that flieth to the flame , With ceaseles houering , and with restles flight , Is burned straight to ashes in the same , And findes her death , where was her most delight . The proude aspiring boye that needes would prie Into the secrets of the highest seate , Had some conceite to gaine content thereby , Or else his follie sure was wondrous great . These did through follie perish all and die , And ( though I know it ) euen so doe I.

SONNET . XXVII . POore worme , poore silly worme , ( alas poore beast ) Feare makes thee hide thy head within the ground , Because of creeping things thou art the least , Yet euery foote giues thee thy mortall wound . But I thy fellow worme am in worse state , For thou thy Sunne enioyest , but I want mine : I liue in irksome night : oh cruell fate ! My Sunne will neuer rise , nor euer shine . Thus blind of light , mine eyes misguide my feete , And balefull darknes makes me still afraide : Men mocke me when I stumble in the streete , And wonder how my yong sight so decaide . Yet doe I ioy in this ( euen when I fall ) That I shall see againe , and then see all .

SONNET . XXVIII . WEll may my soule immortall and diuine , That is imprison'd in a lump of clay , Breath out laments , vntill this bodie pine : That from her takes her pleasures all away . Pine then thou lothed prison of my life ; Vntoward subiect of the least aggrieuance , Oh let me dye : mortalitie is rife , Death comes by wounds , by sicknes , care , & chance Oh earth , the time will come when i 'le resume thee , And in my bosome make thy resting place : Then doe not vnto hardest sentence doome me , Yeeld , yeeld betimes , I must and will haue grace . Richly shalt thou be intomb'd , since for thy graue , Fidessa , faire Fidessa thou shalt haue .

SONNET . XXIX . EArth , take this earth wherin my spirits languish , Spirits , leaue this earth that doth in griefs retaine you : Griefs , chase this earth , that it may fade with anguish , Spirits , auoide these furies which doe paine you ; Oh leaue your lothsome prison , freedome gaine you , Your essence is diuine , great is your power : And yet you mone your wrongs & sore complaine you , Hoping for ioye which fadeth euery howre . Oh Spirits your prison loath , & freedome gaine you ! The destinies in deepe laments haue shut you Of mortall hate , because they doe disdaine you , And yet of ioy that they in prison put you . Earth , take this earth with thee to be inclosed : Life is to me , and I to it opposed .

SONNET . XXX . WEepe now no more mine eyes , but be you drowned In your own teares , so many yeares distilled : And let her know that at them long hath frowned , That you can weepe no more , although she willed . This hap her crueltie hath her alotten , Who whilom was commaundres of each part : That now her proper griefes must be forgotten , By those true outward signes of inward smart . For how can he that hath not one teare left him , Streame out those floodes that 's due vnto her moning ? When both of eyes and teares she hath bereft him : Oh vet i 'le signifie my griefe with groning ! True sighes , true grones shall eccho in the ayre , And say Fidessa ( though most cruell ) is most fayre .

SONNET . XXXI . TOngue neuer cease to sing Fidessaes praise , Heart ( how euer she deserue ) conceaue the best : Eyes stand amaz'd to see her beauties raies , Lippes steale one kisse and be for euer blest . Hands touch that hand wherein your life is closed , Brest locke vp fast in thee thy liues sole treasure , Armes still imbrace and neuer be disclosed , Feete runne to her without or pace or measure , Tongue , hart , eyes , lipps , hands , brest , armes , feete , Consent to doe true homage to your Queene : Louelie , faire , gentle , wise , vertuous , sober , sweete , Whose like shall neuer be ; hath neuer beene , Oh that I were all tongue her praise to show : Then surelie my poore hart were freed from woe .

SONNET . XXXII . SOre sicke of late , Nature her due would haue , Great was my paine where still my mind did rest : No hope but heauen , no comfort but my graue , Which is of comforts both the last and least . But on a sudden th' almightie sent Sweet ease to the distresse and comfortlesse , And gaue me longer time for to repent , With health and strength the foes of feeblenes . Yet I my health no sooner gan recouer , But my old thoughts ( thoughful of cares ) retained , Made me ( as erst ) become a wretched louer Of her , that loue and louers aye disdained . Then was my paine with ease of paine increased , And I nere sicke vntill my sicknes ceased .

SONNET . XXXIII . HE that would faine Fidessaes image see , My face of force must be his looking glasse : There is she portraide and her crueltie , Which as a wonder through the world must passe . But were I dead , she would not be betraide : It 's I that gainst my will shall make it knowne , Her crueltie by me must be bewraide , Or I must hide my head , and liue alone . I le plucke my siluer haires from out my head , And wash away the wrinkles of my face : Closely immur'd I 'le liue as I were dead , Before she suffer but the least disgrace . How can I hide that is alreadie knowne ? I haue been seene , and haue no face but one .

SONNET . XXXIIII . FIe pleasure fie , thou cloy'st me with delight ! ( Sweet thoughts you kill me if you lower stray ) Oh many be the ioyes of one short night ! Tush fancies neuer can desire allay . Happie vnhappie thoughts : I thinke and haue not Pleasure : oh pleasing paine ! Shewes nought auaile me . Mine own conceit doth glad me , more I craue not : Yet wanting substance , woe doth still assaile me . " Babies doe children please , and shadowes fooles : " Shewes haue deceiu'd the wisest many a time : " Euer to want our wish our courage cooles : " The ladder broken , t' is in vaine to clime . But I must wish , and craue , and seeke , and clime , It 's hard if I obtaine not grace in time .

SONNET . XXXV I Haue not spent the Aprill of my time , The sweet of youth in plotting in the aire : But doe at first aduenture seeke to clime , Whil'st flowers of blooming yeares are greene and faire . I am no leauing of al-withering age , I haue not suffred many winter lowres : I feele no storme , vnlesse my Loue doe rage , And then in griefe I spend both daies and houres . This yet doth comfort that my flower lasted , Vntill it did approach my Sunne too neere : And then ( alas ) vntimely was it blasted , So soone as once thy beautie did appeare . But after all , my comfort rests in this , That for thy sake my youth decaied is .

SONNET . XXXVI . OH let my heart , my bodie and my tongue , Bleed forth the liuely streames of faith vnfained : Worship my saint the Gods and Saints among , Praise and extoll her faire that me hath pained . Oh let the smoake of my supprest desire Be rak'd vp in ashes of my burning brest , Breake out at length , and to the clowdes aspire , Vrging the heauens t' affoord me rest . But let my bodie naturally descend Into the bowels of our common mother , And to the very Center let it wend : When it no lower can , her griefes to smother . And yet when I so low doe buried lie , Then shall my loue ascend vnto the skie .

SONNET . XXXVII . FAire is my loue that feedes among the Lillies , The Lillies growing in that pleasant garden , Where Cupids mount that welbeloued hill is , And where that little god himselfe is warden . See where my Loue sits in the beds of spices , Beset all round with Camphere , Myrrhe and Roses , And interlac'd with curious deuices , Which her from all the world apart incloses . There doth she tune her Lute for her delight , And with sweet musick makes the ground to moue , Whil'st I ( poore I ) doe sit in heauie plight , Wayling alone my vnrespected loue , Not daring rush into so rare a place , That giues to her and she to it a grace .

SONNET . XXXVIII . WAs neuer eye did see my Mistris face , Was neuer care did heare Fidessaes tongue , Was neuer mind that once did mind her grace , That euer thought the trauaile to be long . When her I see , no creature I behold , So plainly say these aduocates of loue , That now doe feare , and now to speake are bold , Trembling apace , when they resolue to proue . These strange effects doe shew a hidden power , ( A maiestie all base attempts reprouing ) That glads or daunts as she doth laugh or lower , Surely some goddesse harbours in their mouing : Who thus my muse from base attempts hath raised , Whom thus my muse beyond compare hath praised .

SONNET . XXXXIX . MY Ladies haire is threeds of beaten gold , Her front the purest Christall eye hath seene : Her eyes the brightest starres the heauens hold , Her cheekes red Roses , such as seld haue been : Her pretie lips of red vermilion dye , Her hand of yuorie the purest white : Her blush Aurora , or the morning skye , Her breast displaies two siluer fountaines bright , The Spheares her voyce , her grace the Graces three , Her bodie is the Saint that I adore , Her smiles and fauours sweet as honey bee , Her feete faire Thetis praiseth euermore . But ah the worst and last is yet behind , For of a Gryphon she doth beare the mind .

SONNET . XL. INiurious fates to robbe me of my blisse , And dispossesse my heart of all his hope : You ought with iust reuenge to punish misse , For vnto you the hearts of men are ope . Iniuriou● fates that hardned haue her hart , Yet make her face to send out pleasing smiles : And both are done but to increase my smart , And intertaine my loue with falsed wiles . Yet , being ( when she smiles ) surprisde with ioy , I faine would languish in so sweet a paine : Beseeching death my bodie to destroy , lest on the sudden she should frowne againe . When men doe wish for death , fates haue no force , But they ( when men would liue ) haue no remorce .

SONNET . XLI . THe prison I am in is thy faire face , Wherein my libertie inchained lyes : My thoughts the bolts that hold me in the place , My foode the pleasing lookes of thy faire eyes . Deepe is the prison where I lye inclosed , Strong are the bolts that in this cell containes me : Sharpe is the foode necessitie imposed , When hunger makes me feed on that which paines me . Yet doe I loue , imbrace , and follow fast , That holds , that keepes , that discontents me most : And list not breake , vnlock , or seeke to waste The place , the bolts , the foode ( though I be lost . ) Better in prison euer to remaine , Then being out to suffer greater paine .

SONNET . XLII . WHen neuer speaking silence proues a wonder , When euer-flying fame at home remaineth , When all-concealing night keepes darknes vnder , When Men deuouring wrong , true glorie gaineth : When Soule-tormenting griefe agrees with ioy , When Lucifer forerunnes the balefull night , When Venus doth forsake her little boye , When her vntoward boye obtaineth sight , When Sysiphus doth cease to roule his stone , When Othes shaketh off his heauie chaines : When Beautie Queene of pleasure is alone , When Loue and Vertue quiet peace disdaines . When these shall be and I not be , Then will Fidessa pittie me .

SONNET . XLIII . TEll me of loue sweete Loue who is thy fire , Of if thou mortall or immortall be : Some say thou art begotten by Desire , Nourisht with hope , and fed with fantasie : Ingendred by a heauenly goddesse eye , Lurking most sweetely in an Angels face : Others , that beautie thee doth deifie , Oh Soueraigne beautie full of power and grace ! But I must be absurd all this denying , Because the fayrest faire aliue nere knew thee : Now Cupid comes thy godhead to the trying , T' was she alone ( such is her power ) that slew me . She shall be Loue , and thou a foolish boye , Whose vertue proues thy power but a toye .

SONNET . XLIIII . NO choice of change can euer change my minde , Choiceles my choice the choicest choice aliue : Wonder of women , were she not vnkinde , The pitiles of pitie to depriue . Yet she , the kindest creature of her kinde , Accuseth me of selfe ingratitude : And well she may , sith by good proofe I finde My selfe had dide , had she not helpfull stoode . For when my sicknes had the vpper hand , And death began to shew his awfull face ; She tooke great paines my paines for to withstand , And easde my heart that was in heauie cace . But cruell now she skorneth what it craueth : Vnkind in kindnes , murdering while she saueth .

SONNET . XLV . MIne eye bewrayes the secrets of my hart , My heart vnfolds his griefe before her face : Her face bewitching pleasure of my smart , Daignes not one looke of mercie and of grace . My guiltie eye of murder and of treason ( Friendly conspirator of my decay , Dumbe eloquence the louers strongest reason ) Doth weepe it selfe for anger quite away , And chooseth rather not to be , then bee Disloyall , by too-well discharging dutie : And being out , ioyes it no more can see The sugred charmes of all deceiuing beautie . But ( for the other greedily doth eye it ) I pray you tell me what doe I get by it ?

SONNET . XLVIII . MVrder , oh murder ! I can crie no longer , Murder , oh murder ! is there none to ayde me ? Life feeble is in force , death is much stronger : Then let me dye that shame may not vpbrayd me . Nothing is left me now but shame or death : I feare she feareth not foule murthers guilt , Nor doe I feare to loose a seruile breath , I know my bloud was giuen to be spilt . What is this life but maze of counties strayes , The enemie of true felicitie : Fitly compar'd to dreames , to flowers , to playes ? Oh life , no life to me but miserie ! Of shame or death if thou must one , Make choice of death and both are gone .

SONNET . XLIX . MY cruell fortunes clowded with a frowne , Lurke in the bosome of eternall night : My climing thoughts are basely haled downe , My best deuices proue but after-sight . Poore outcast of the worlds exiled roome , I liue in wildernes of deepe lament : No hope reseru'd me but a hopeles tombe , When fruitles life , and fruitfull woes are spent . Shall Phoebus hinder little starres to shine , Or loftie Cedar Mushrome leaue to growe ▪ Sure mightie men at little ones repine , The rich is to the poore a common foe . Fidessa seeing how the world doth goe , Ioyneth with fortune in my ouerthrow .

SONNET . L. WHen I the hookes of pleasure first deuowred , Which vndigested , threaten now to choke me , Fortune on me her golden graces shewred , Oh then delight did to delight prouoke me . Delight , false instrument of my decay , Delighteth nothing that doth all things moue , Made me first wander from the perfect way , And fast intangled me in the snares of loue . Then my vnhappie happines ( at first ) began , Happie , in that I lou'd the fayrest faire : Vnhappily despisde , a haples man Thus ioy did triumph , triumph did despaire . My conquest is which shall the conquest gaine : Fidessa author both of ioy and paine .

SONNET . LI. WOrke worke apace you blessed Sisters three , In restles twining of my fatall threed : Oh let your nimble hands at once agree , To weaue it out , and cut it off with speed . Then shall my vexed and tormented ghost Haue quiet passage to the Elisian rest : And sweetly ouer death and fortune boast , In euerlasting triumphs with the blest . But ah ( too well I know ) you haue conspired A lingring death for him that lotheth life : As if with woes he neuer could be tyred : For this you hide your all-diuiding knife . One comfort yet the heauens haue assign'd me , That I must dye and leaue my griefes behind me .

SONNET . LII . IT is some comfort to the wronged man , The wronger of iniustice to vpbraide : Iustly my selfe herein I comfort can , And iustly call her an vngratefull maide . Thus am I pleasde to rid my selfe of crime , And stop the mouth of all-reporting fame : Counting my greatest crosse the losse of time , And all my priuat griefe her publique shame . Ah ( but to speake a trueth ) hence are my cares , And in this comfort all discomfort resteth : My harmes I cause ( her scandale ) vnawares , Thus loue procures the thing that loue detesteth . For he that viewes the glasses of my smart , Must needs report she hath a flintie hart .

SONNET . LIII . I Was a king of sweet content at least , But now from out my kingdome banished : I was chiefe guest at faire Dame pleasures feast , But now I am for want of succour famished . I was a Saint and heauen was my rest , But now cast downe into the lowest hell : Vile caytifes may not liue amongst the blest , Nor blessed men mongst cursed caytifes dwell . Thus am I made an exile of a king , Thus choice of meates to want of food is changed : Thus heauens losse doth hellish torments bring : Selfe crosses make me from my selfe estranged . Yet am I still the same : but made another , Then not the same : alas I am no other .

SONNET . LIIII . IF great Apollo offered as a dower His burning throne to Beauties excellence : If Ioue himselfe came in a golden shower Downe to the earth to fetch faire Io thence : If Venus in the curled locks were tied Of proud Adonis not of gentle kind : If Tellus for a shepheards fauour died , ( The fauour cruell loue to her assign'd ) If heauens winged Herrald Hermes had His heart inchanted with a countrie maide : If poore Pygmalion were for beautie mad . If gods and men haue all for beautie straide , I am not then asham'd to be included Mongst those that loue and be with loue deluded .

SONNET . LV. OH no I dare not , oh I may not speake ! Yes , yes , I dare , I can , I must , I will : Then heart powre forth thy plaints & do not breake , Let neuer fancie manly courage kill . Intreate her mildly , words haue pleasing charmes , Of force to moue the most obdurate heart To take relenting pitie of my harmes , And with vnfained teares to waile my smart . Is she a stocke , a blocke , a stone , a flint ? Hath she nor eares to heare , nor eyes to see ? If so , my cries , my prayers , my teares shall stint . Lord how can louers so bewitched bee ! I tooke her to be beauties Queene alone , But now I see she is a senceles stone .

SONNET . LVI . IS trust betraide , doth kindnes grow vnkind ? Can beautie ( both at once ) giue life and kill ? Shall fortune alter the most constant mind ? Will reason yeeld vnto rebelling will ? Doth fancie purchase praise , and vertue shame ? May shew of goodnes lurke in treacherie ? Hath trueth vnto her selfe procured blame ? Must sacred Muses suffer miserie ? Are women woe to men , traps for their falles ? Differ their words , their deedes , their lookes , their liues ? Haue louers euer been their tennis-balles ? Be husbands fearefull of the chastest wiues ? All men doe these affirme , and so must I : Vnlesse Fidessa giue to me the lye .

SONNET . LVII . THree play-fellowes ( such three were neuer seene In Venus court ) vpon a summers day , Met altogether on a pleasant greene , Intending at some pretie game to play . They Dian , Cupid , and Fidessa were : Their wager , beautie , bow , and crueltie : The conqueresse the stakes away did beare , Whose fortune then it was to winne all three . Fidessa , which doth these as weapons vse , To make the greatest heart her will obay : And yet the most obedient to refuse , As hauing power poore louers to betray . With these she wounds , she heales , giues life & death : More power hath none that liues by mortall breath .

SONNET . LVIII . OH beautie Syren , kept with Cyrces rod : The fairest good in seeme , but fowlest ill : The sweetest plague ordain'd for man by God , The pleasing subiect of presumptuous will : Th' alluring obiect of vnstaied eyes , Friended of all , but vnto all a foe : The dearest thing that any creature buyes , And vainest too : ( it serues but for a shoe . ) In seeme a heauen , and yet from blisse exiling , Paying for truest seruice , nought but paine : Yong mens vndoing : yong and old beguiling , Mans greatest losse , though thought his greatest gaine . True , that all this with paine enough I proue : And yet most true , I will Fidessa loue .

SONNET . LIX . DOe I vnto a cruell Tyger pray , That praies on me as wolfe vpon the Lambes ? ( Who feare the danger both of night and day , And runne for succour to their tender dammes ) Yet will I pray ( though she be euer cruell ) On bended knee , and with submissiue hart : She is the fire , and I must be the fuell , She must inflict , and I indure the smart . She must , she shall , be mistris of her will , And I ( poore I ) obedient to the same : As fit to suffer death , as she to kill , As readie to be blam'd , as she to blame . And for I am the subiect of her ire , All men shall know thereby my loue intire .

SONNET . LX. OH let me sigh , weepe , waile , and crie no more , Or let me sigh , weepe , waile , crie more and more : Yea let me sigh , weepe , waile , crie euer-more : For she doth pitie my complaints no more , Then cruell Pagan , or the sauadge Moore : But still doth adde vnto my torments more , Which grieuous are to me by so much more , As she inflicts them , and doth wish them more . Oh let thy mercie ( merciles ) be neuer more ! So shall sweet death to me be welcome more , Then is to hungrie beasts the grassie moore : Ah she that to affliction ads yet more , Becomes more cruell , by still adding more ! Wearie am I to speake of this word ( more ) Yet neuer wearie she to plague me more .

SONNET . LXI . FIdessaes worth in time begetteth praise , Time praise , praise , fame , fame wonderment , Wonder , fame , praise , time , her worth doe raise To hiest pitch of dread astonishment . Yet time in time her hardned heart bewraieth , And praise it selfe her crueltie dispraiseth : So that through praise ( alas ) her praise decaieth , And that ( which makes it fall ) her honor raiseth . Most strange : yet true , so wonder wonder still , And follow fast the wonder of these daies : For well I know ( all wonder to fulfill ) Her will at length vnto my will obaies . Meane time let others praise her constancie , And me attend vpon her clemencie .

SONNET . LXII . MOst true that I must faire Fidessa loue , Most true that faire Fidessa cannot loue . Most true that I doe feele the paines of loue , Most true that I am captiue vnto loue . Most true that I deluded am with loue , Most true that I doe find the sleights of loue . Most true that nothing can procure her loue , Most true that I must perish in my loue . Most true that she contemnes the god of loue , Most true that he is snared with her loue . Most true that she would haue me cease to loue , Most true that she her selfe alone is Loue . Most true that though she hated I would loue , Most true that dearest life shall end with loue .

FINIS . B. Griffin . Talis apud tales , talis sub tempore tali : Subque meo tals iudice , talis ero .