Barley-breake, or, A vvarning for vvantons. Written by W.N. Gent

Then one in others rights would not intrude , But each lamented at his neighbours paine : None gaue a cause to sue or to besu'de , The weight of conscience wanted not a graine . By pleasant springs the young and youthfull sort Would sit and talke of their vnfained loue , Whose simple truth would in a word report More faith and zeale , then in an age we proue . Why , Parents then would let their children goe To plaies and reuells both by night and day ; Where now they dread & feare their ouerthrow : For rape and murder lurke in euery way . A Shepheard then secure might lye and sleepe , Hauing a care his victuall were not stole By Wolues and Curs that in the hillocks keepe , And range abroad , while Somnus gaines the gole . Thus would he fill his daughter with a sound , Whilst she poore girle did see her mates at play : His words againe might very well rebound : For why , her minde was fix'd another way . But on a time the Lads and Lasses came , Entreating Elpin that she might goe play . He said she should ( Euphema was her name ) And then denyes : yet needs she must away . To Barley-breake they roundly then 'gan fall : Raimon , Euphema had vnto his mate : For by a lot he won her from them all : Wherefore young Streton doth his fortune hate . But yet ere long he ran and caught her out , And on the backe a gentle fall he gaue her . It is a fault which iealous eyes spie out , A maide to kisse before her iealous father . Old Elpin smiles , but yet he frets within . Euphema faith , she was vniustly cast . She striues , he holds , his hand goes out , and in : She cries , Away , and yet she holds him fast , Till sentence giuen by an other maid , That she was caught according to the law : The voice whereof this ciuill quarrell staid , And to his make each lusty lad 'gan draw . Euphema now with Streton is in hell : ( For so the middle roome is alwaies cald ) He would for euer , if he might , there dwell ; He holds it blisse with her to be inthrald . The other run , and in their running change : Streton 'gan catch , and then let goe his hold , Euphema , like a Doe , doth swiftly range , Yet taketh none , although full well she could , And winkes on Streton , he on her 'gan smile , And faine would whisper something in her eare . She knew his mind , and bid him vse a wile , As she ran by him , so that none did heare . Some other pastimes then they would begin ; And to looke hands one doth them all assummon . Varietie is good in euery thing , Excepting onely Gods and earthly women . Then hand in hand they make a circle round , And with a napkin one must goe about , And looke behinde what lad , this same is found , Mu●● 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 her that so markt him out . Where we will leaue them to their feast , and bed , Whichatter supper they entend to see , And treat of Cratchets now in Stretons head , Vpon the mountaines restlesse wanders he . His sheepe , for him , might all at riot run , And told themselues , or else do what they would : He teares no woe , he dreads no losse to come , The Shepheardesse hath all his thoughts in hold : His studie is , which way he might contriue A place and time , where they might fit confer , And how he might a cause sufficient giue , To make his loue and passion knowne to her . One while he thinkes to send his griefe in time , And therein praise her cruell conquering eyes : But then he feares she will some error finde : For she was faire , and therewith passing wise . Then thinkes he on what words he should depend , If he should hap to finde a time and place : One was too meane , another to no end ; This word obscure , and that was too too base . In the conclusion , he doth beate his braine , When through the matter he hath swiftly run : Then all atresh begin doth he againe , As farre to seeke as when he first begun . Much like vnto a Player on a stage , When he forgets the thing that he should doe , As one distract doth exit in a rage , That faine would act , but yet he knowes not how . Perplexed thus , he spends the silent night , Vntill Aurora with a blushing red , Comes as a Herald to proclayme the light Of heauens bright taper rising from his bed . And then e're long , he might afarre perceaue Old Elpins dogge come driuing of the flocke ; Wherat the champion mountaines he 'gan leaue , And by the way he shrouds behinde a rocke , Where he might see , and yet might not be seene , Old Elpin and his pretie snowy maid , Louingly paceyng vp alongst the greene , Vnto the mountaine , where Bawle for them staid : And to a shade , where they did vse to sit , ( For by this time the Sun was got on high ) Prepare they did to shun the scorching heate : The Ewes 'gan feede , the lambes are frisking by . And Elpin now some storie will reuiue , To feast the time as it did passe along ; And from Calisto he doth it deriue , And Iupiter , and of Calistos wrong . One tale ( quoth he ) will steale the day away , Whilst that our flocke in shadow chew the cud : Then of a Nymph my purpose is to say ; But not of her whom Ioue bore on the flood , Nor yet of her that caught was fetching water , Nor yet o● her whom Nessus earst did wrong , Nor yet of her whom Iason so did flatter , Nor of the three that Cacus kept so long : Nor of the Queene that Carthage did inclose ; Nor will I speake of faire Lucrecias rape , Ne tell a storie of the Albion Rose , Nor 10 yet , of Cow that had the shape . Whose chast desires had made her been forlorne Of kin and countrey ; and with that doth bring Learned examples for the virgine life , Whose contemplation highly past all other : Not tedious chat , but all in comely briefe , She craues the goddesse leaue to liue together . Who gladly graunts , and by the hand her takes , And next Calisto kindly doth embrace her . For ioy whereof Ioues suttle inwards quakes , Whose hopes depended wholy to deface her . Vnto the Cloyster , all in seemely ray , For to install this new-elected Nun , This sacred traine with Musicke take the way , Where , with importance euery rite is done . Looke how a Foxe , when he intends to take A silly lambe , his purpose to obtaine , Staukes farre at first , for feare some dogs awake , Then neere and neere , till he the lambe hath staine . So walkes flye Ioue with his Calisto forth , A furlong first , the next day three or foure , Then backe againe , with tales of note and worth , Some fetcht from heauen , and some from earth far lower . So long at last vnto a shadow groue They straid , so farre quite out of sound or cry . Which thing well noted of dissembling Ioue , Soone sate him downe the faire Calisto by ; As who would say , Let 's rest : for walkes are weary . Where laughing , they claspe eithers iuory hands , Prooue strength of armes , as maids will being merry , Clip wrests , draw lots , meat wastes with silken bands . And now although the game began in sport , The filly Nymph rude earnest doth sustaine : It 's vaine to striue , or vse the womans arte , Screeke out , or struggle , prayers are but vaine . Ioue shewes himselfe , but to Calistos griefe , He her deflour'd , and straight to heauen flies , Where he doth kisse Queene Iuno his iealous wife , To blind the scape from her all-watchfull eyes . Calisto maid , a maid ? nay , there Hyde , The snowy one , who was a maid ere while , T is she ( I meane ) whose fortunes are descryde , Lamenting sits , that euen now did smile . The day was gone , and Phebus maskt his face , The antike world is shut in robes of night : Yet she poore soule , bewayling still her case , Asham'd henceforth to gaze vpon the light . Yet in the end she doth recall to mind , That what was past , no wight the act did know , And that close action much the world doth blind . All are not maids that virgins are in show . Considering this , she wipes her blubbered eyes , And charg'd with feare , she mends her ruffled clothes , And for excuse , her wits she doth surprise For her delay ; so to the Cloyster goes , As light as euer Nymph or damzell trod : No change of fortune may Diana spy ; No marke is seene of any foyle she had ; Front bolt-vpright , she neuer stept awry : And making there ( as wily women can ) Excuse worth credit for her long delay , But wherefore beat I thus the sencelesse ayre ? Why warble I these vaine and frutelesse words , Whilst he relentlesse Leatcher keepes him there , Where he 's supreme , and pittie none affords ? Why doe I not complaine vnto the gods ? Calisto , doe ; let him beare shame with thee : Shew how he did betray thee to the woods ; Let Iuno know how he hath dealt with me . Yet , foolish wench , t is vaine , if so thou thinke , That to thy plaints the gods will credit giue : Noe , they will rather at his falshood winke : Thy information they will not beleeue . Like stormes on plaines , with threats hee 'le beare thee downe . A silly lambe a Lyon cann't defame ? Hee le vnto tortures haue thee drag'd and bound , If thou his scapes shouldst once detect or name . And thus ( God wot ) doe mountaines take their freakes , But euermore poore mole-hils beare the blame . The Owle may see the haughtie Eagle scapes : But none durst once accuse him for the same .

THis said , she spies Diana with her traine , With course directed to a fountaine , where The loftie trees coole shadow doth containe , Where she did vse to wash her body bare . Faine would she hide : but Dian she espies , And called her , whose heast she doth obay ; And standing vp , she wipes her watery eyes , And to the fountaine with them takes the way . Good God , what t is for silly maides to shift , When conscience writes some action in the cheeke ! She hangs the head , her eyes she durst not lift Vp from the ground , the ayre she did not like . The Nymph , that euer by Dianas side Went cheeke by iowle , bearing a stately port , Now lurkes behind , not willing to be ey'd , Byting her lips , as one asham'd in hart . Which caus'd a muttring 'mongst the virgine rout , And some supposed she had stept amisse : Her very count'nance may dissolue the doubt , Her cheeke bewrayes , that it had caught a kisse . But being come vnto the siluer streame , Where naked all attend to wash the Queene , Calistos robes no more may hide her shame : Ioues suttle freak's apparent to be seene . Calistos griefe is publike to their eyes ; Her slender hands may not her belly hide . The goddesse spies , and therewith out she cryes , Strumpet , auaunt , thy whoredome is descride . The Nymphs all shouted : but the sorry one On bended knees desires to be heard : But hopelesse soule , attention had she none . For her exile their voyces all accord . Away she goes , as one expeld from Court , And liues in deserts , as a wight forlorne , Where , to the world ( as ancient fame reports ) And to her woe , was hayrie Arcas borne . From whom Arcadia tooke at first the name , The Sonne of Ioue , a Satire first became : The angry Iuno , to augment her fame , Vpon the Nymph a Bearish shape doth frame . When Pinkes and Cowslips , shall be made a bed , Vpon whose gentle leaues secure wee 'le sleepe , Lockt one to other , whilst red lips doe wed , Inuiron'd with armes , brests sweete kissing meete , Cast ouer with a vale of beautyous Lillyes , Vpon which mantle shall curiously be drawne A thousand stories by renown'd Apelles , Where we will see how louing soules doe fawne . If these delights , with many thousand more , May in thy brest moue matter of regard , Let me no longer thus distrest implore : But with a smile my loyall loue reward .

WIth that , he takes her by the Iuory hand , And silent stands to heare her make reply ; When that her lookes giue him to vnderstand , That womens thoughts doe on such subiects lye . And shee with silent motion giues consent , Not noting once the fraud of golden showres , Nor how too late , betrayed maides repent Themselues , in suffring men to plucke their flowres , But suffers Streton to doe what he would : Her mind is dauncing on this promist pleasure . Away will I , ( lest Pandor proue I should ) Leauing Euphema to repent by leasure .

ANd now of Elpin , whom we touch't before , That home was run , deluded with a wile , And view'd his house , his windowes and his dore , Whilst crafty Streton stole his blisse the while . And when his eyes , the messengers of ioy , Had backe return'd the tidings of no wrong , With hems , and sighs , he shakes away annoy , And to the deserts 'gan he pase along ; Where all that day he spends in whoopes and calls : But from his child the ayre doth nothing lend , When greater dread his trembling hart inthrals , Supposing that she had Adonis end . And when the clouds had maskt the face of heauen , And cole-blacke shade , the subiect of all illnesse , Had full possest the seate that time had giuen , And in her mantle wrapt vp all in stilnesse , He sate him downe , girt with extremest woe . O , why did Nature such affection breed , That parents eyes with teares should ouerflow , And dim their glasses for their gracelesse seed ? For after he with sighs had toll'd her knell , And clensd the brooke of grones that staid the flood , With wringed hands , Adue ( quoth ) he ) farewell , The onely comfort of my withered blood : Farewell the face , that duld the fatall knife , Farewell the brest , that heaued out such layes , Farewell the shield and target of my life , Farewell the whole supporter of my dayes : And welcome thou blacke mistres of the night , In thy sad armes let me alwaies sleepe : O let me not reuiue to see the light , O let the Sunne beneath for euer keepe : And from the darke and hideous scowling clouds , Powre stormes of vengeance on this cursed place ; Blow Northerne blasts , and scatter downe these shrouds , Eare vp the roots from Terras pampered face : And therefore shew the role of this thy care , Shew out the burden of thy warbling hart , And vnto thee I likewise will declare As sad a tale in euery point and part . So may one helpe another in a straine : I le sigh , whilst thou deliuerst out thy griefe ; And thou shalt pitty , whilst my part doth rayne , And meete at last both with a weary life .

HEreat the other pleased seem'd to be , And by the hand he Elpin doth inuite To sit by him , beside an Oaken tree , Whose burly branches kept the Caue from light . And after they vpon a brace of pipes , Had many sollum mournefull tunes o'rerunne , The scarlet eyes of one the other wipes , When Elpins mate his tale he thus begun :

Stretons Fathers tale . THe cause I moane , is not for any losse , If reason might dame Natures errour master : But follies bred within the bones of vs , Stand farre without the cure of wisdomes plaster . And where affection buyldes her habitation , Admit it be in ne're so base a soyle , What counsell can with strongest protestation , Withdraw it foorth , or ease vs of that toyle ? My selfe , whom age should bynde in Wisdomes lore , And through experience tread the path that 's best , May not refraine from that which makes me sore , But loue the vulture that doth gnaw my brest . A gracelesse sonne , an off-spring of my bloud , In whom my youth had stored vp his ioy , To be a comfort when I nothing cou'd , Hath stolne my Goats , and packt himselfe away , And tane with him a wily wanton maid , Euphema hight , whom I this present morne Found in his lap , as she asleepe was laid , Whilst he with flowers did her head adorne , And at my showing suddenly arose , And in a moment flung out of my sight , And hither came ( at least I so suppose ) And in this caue I hop't on them to light .

Elpins answere to Stretons Father . ENough , enough , toe much : oh , say no more , ( Quoth weary Elpin ) thou hast poysoned me : Forbeare , forbeare to rub me on that sore , That inward bleeds , and may not cured be . Thy Goats ? my girle , hath one felon stolne ; Accurst for one , and damned for the other : Woe to the day and place where he was borne ; Shame to his father , and horrour to his mother .

Stretons Fathers reply . CEase , bawling caitife , I thy words disdaine , Quoth Stretons Father , shame be to thy selfe : If she be thine , she is as lewd as mine : Then cease to dote so on a wanton elfe . The fathers loue the child to ill doth harden , When that it stands so publike she may view it , Whereby presuming on her Fathers pardon , She iumps so far , till she with shame doth rue it . They both are naught , so naught ●et both them run : One day they 'le wish they had kept parents rules : An aged eye can oft see things to come , When greener heads account vs doating fooles . Put vp thy Pipe ; let 's get vs to our flockes : And let them gad , till they repentance catch : When Hyems shall vpon them shake his lockes , Their grazing feast will haue a wearish tarch . When siluer showres congeale to hardned hayle , When pleasant meads conuert to marish ground , When stately trees of sap their leaues shall fayle , Or when the wind shall tumble Progne downe ; Then shall we see our Grasse-hoppers to come , And with the words of mercy cloy our eares , When foolish we with pittie ouercome , Shall fondly shead a thousand pardoning teares . Whereat they rose , and sighing tooke their way Vnto the mountaine where the Shepheards plaid , Where woefull Elpin passed many a day , In deepe laments for his too carelesse maid . And on a time , as he alone was sate , Neere to a fountaine or a liuely spring , Vnto a Pipe made of a ramping Oate , With strained voice he lowdly thus 'gan sing .

Elpins Song . THe harshie rockes are all to totters rent , The frisking lambs haue left their wonted playes , Faire Philomele is dombe and discontent , The scowling clouds abbridge our sun-shine dayes . The seemely Lilly hangs her louely head , The Violet dies , with the Carnation white ; Faire Marigold infolds no more her seede , The frugrant Rose is withered with despight : The earth is barren , ciuilitie is dombe , Our brightest daies are foggie , soule , and blacke : O time it is , O time , when wilt thou come , And shew the Lambe , whose comming many lacke ?

ANd ending this , though more he would haue sung , Had not Euphema to his sight appeard , Who at his feete with hands together wrung , And wombe bewraying what within it bear'd , Lies pleading for remission of her fact , With vowed promise to transgresse no more , Whose sudden fight her Fathers life-strings crackt , And falling downe , he ended his implore . Well might she waile : but death his owne will keepe , Well might she rocke and shocke her Fathers corse : Well might she fit her downe by him and weepe , That 'twixt them twaine pale death had made diuorce . Now stands she speechlesse , choakt with inward woe , And with her hands her Iuorie brest doth beate , Cursing in hart what brought her hereunto . Thus women will , but when it is too late . And then on Streton she 'gan lowd exclaime , Who had forsaken her in this her neede , Leaning a marke for shame to take her aime . The vulgar fruit that springs from wanton seede .

Euphemas Lamentation . WAS I ( quoth she ) the chiefe Arcadian maid ? Was I the wardrop of my Fathers treasure ? I was , I was : but all 's at riot laid . My iewel 's changed for a fruitlesse pleasure . O , heare I not the birds bewray my fact ? O , see I not the flockes abhorre my sight ? Behold , behold , the world lothing thy act : See how they scorne , who in thee tooke delight . Then looke on , you , whom Iasons would allure , See here the Musicke of a yeelding song : Read what it is to build on vowes impute . The sweetest words containe oft greatest wrong . Beautie , without the ornament of honour ; Is like a Rose whom Spiders haue bereft , The pure sweete odour time bestowd vpon her , Loth'd of the Bees when hony none is left , And pittied as a Deare amongst an heard , When he with soyle hath al him ouer-dight , Whose company they will not once afford , But beate him hence , as lothing such a sight . But whereunto doe I this breath applie ? Why draw I thus the pourtract of my fate ? Why rather doe I not despaire and die , And cancell vp my life with honours date ? Now that base lust lies publike , voide of harbour , Spreading abroad the ensigne of transgression , Now vertuous triumphs haue forsooke the arbour , Leauing the seate where shame hath ta'ne possession ; Prepare , vaine flesh , you that conspir'd with shame , Ope wide your veines to let out wanton streames , Resolue , resolue to die . And with the same , An armed blade euen at her brest she aimes . Looke , how a villen toucht with consciences dart , When at his feete he lies , whom he would slay , Pots forth his hand , and then repents in hart , Now vowes to strike , but horror bids him stoy : Euen so her hand the knife pluckes to and fro , Fearing to hurt the bosome which it loues , Whilst feare and scorne threats each others woe , One crying , Stab ; the other still reproues . Thus standing in suspence 'twixt life and death ; Death arguing feare , life crying out dishonour : When resolution hating lothed breath , Confutes pale feare to let in death vpon her , Then Dido like she pears'd the frame of Nature ; When through the bulwarke of her crimson blood , Deaths roaring cannon spoyles the worke and feature , Breaking the stage whereon liues action stood . But what is fate , if we conceiue with measure ? Who beares the badge of fortune , rules not her . The deeds of men are voide at heauens pleasure : Our doome decreed , we cannot mead , nor marre . Whilst this her blood the scornefull earth embrac'd , Before the set of liues declining sun , The caitife Streton being thither chac'd By Wolues , and Beares , whose force he sought to shun , And looking round which way he best might take , His eyes did spy this dismall spectacle , The sight whereof made ioynts and synewes shake . And as he gaz'd , behold , a miracle . Those sauage beasts , whose iawes he sought to flie , Had in a moment compast him about , As who would say , Villaine , behold her die . And therewithall the ayre and wood throughout Did ring and sound with noyse of beasts and birds , Who at him bay'd and star'de as at an Owle : Kites , Crowes , and Buzzards , Iayes , with woluish heards , Rookes ; Pies , and Oopes , and each deuouring sowle . Amongst the rest , a blacke and filthie bird Sate on a skrange , and cries , A rope , a rope . Whose ougly voyce to Streton plaine was heard ; And seeing hope of life stood past all hope , Aloud replies , A rope ? why , I haue none : If die I must , come sunder these my quarters . A prating Parrot sitting all alone , Him answere makes , Goe hang thee in thy garters . With that , in haste his garters he puts off . A nimble Ape his topman strait will bee , And hangs vp Streton , whil●t a Monkie did scoffe . Crying , Good fruite , good fruite doth beare the tree . The Owle forth-with a solemne dirge doth sing : With that , the Rauen seaz'd vpon his eyes . His funerall condold , and euery thing , They left his bones a banquet for the flies .

FINIS .