Rich: Nugents Cynthia Containing direfull sonnets, madrigalls, and passionate intercourses, describing his repudiate affections expressed in loues owne language.

RICH: NVGENTS Cynthia .

CONTAINING Direfull Sonnets , Madrigalls , and passionate intercourses , describing his repudiate affections expressed in Loues owne Language .

Non ad imitandum , sed ad precauendum .

Disce ex me .

LONDON ❧ Printed by T. P. for Henrie Tomes , and are to be sould at his shop by Graies Inne new gate in Holborne . 1604.

O multa dictu grauia : perpessu aspera . Quae exantlato corpore atque animo pertuli Feminea vi , femineo interimor vultu . R. N.

The Dedication of this Booke . To the right honourable the Ladie of Trymlestowne . LAdie most worthy , of most estimation , In whome all goodnesse is together knit , Whose vertues purchase fame , fame admiration , Of holyest will , ioyn'd with a heau'nly wit , Whose praise , if I would shew by word , or writ , ( A Theame too hye for Ciceroes Oration ) My words , from my thoughts reach as low would flet , As my thoughts reach , from so high contemplatien : Receiue in gree , this ill agreeing matter , An idle worke in idle houres dispatcht : The Persian King , whose power the world did threat , Tooke in good worth a poore mans cup of water , Who needes not scorne a whit to be thus matcht , If to be good , be more than to be great .

The first part .

Sonet . I. THe Planet , whose swift course diuides the times And warmes the earth , that she her burden yelds Approached now vnto our northerne clymes . Leauing the scorched Aethiopian felds ; The birds , that in that seazon still reioyce , To see their wythred bowers new clad with greene , Did summon me , in their sweet warbling voice , To giue attendance on the Summers Queene : I straight obeyd , and by two Christall streames That through a pleasant groue forth murmering slide , I layd me downe , and viewd bright Phorbus beames , Which mounted from the East , with glistring pride . But soone my minde and lookes from thence allured Two Sonnes , whose light had Phoebus light obscured .

Sonet . 2. TWo Sonnes , whose light had Phoebus light obscured , Firing with their bright beams , the neighbour brooks , Mine eyes , with wonder and delight allured , Vpon themselues , to bend their curious looks ; When loe , I spide a Nimph of peerelesse beautie , In whose white face , those planets faire were fixed , To whome in lowly wise , I did my dutie , Of feare , and reuerent loue , together mixed , But she , my fainting voice no sooner heard , And saw where on the ground I groueling lay , Then like the trembling Deere , of Hound afeard , Backe through the shadey groue she hyed away : Away she hyed , and when I lost her sight , My Summers day ere noone , was turned to night .

Sonet . III. MY Summers day , ere noone , was turn'd to night , And now no light frequents my darkesome bower , For since that houre , that my faire Cynthiaes eyes , Did mine surprise , with their diuine aspect , Yet no respect would haue to my reliefe , Blacke nights of griefe , succeed my Summers day . O beautious May , so may thy beautie flourish , The Heauen so nourish may thy blooming floures , And fertile showes raine downe of happinesse , Still still to blesse thy dayes , as thou wilt deine To rew my paine , and sound my woes retreat , That growes so great , because thou grow'st so beautious . Looke on those dutious eyes , behold alas , The watry glasse , where thou thy selfe mayst view , And let that hew , that first procur'd my paine , Dart forth againe those comfortable beames , To dry these streames , which drowned haue my rest , A small request , is one relenting looke .

Sonet . IIII. WHere in the Store-house of the heau'ns , was found The goodly sampler , whereout nature wrought , That faire embraudrie , which exceeds mans thought , As farre , as doe the starres our retch from ground . Faire Lada , whose rare beautie so renownd , Great Ioue , from his celestiall seat downe brought , When he the Warders of that treasure sought , To tempt with showres of gold as bookes resownd . Nor Daphue , in her hunteresse aray , Walking the woods , the day that Phoebus chast her , Could euer threds of so pure gould display , Nor such vnspotted mynes of Alabaster . And were her heart conforme to her complexion , Our earth had not enuyed the heau'ns perfection .

Sonet . V. CYnthia , the time will come , when looking backe , Thou shalt behold how time hath tryed my truth : And proudly tryumph'd in thy beauties wracke : ( Too late for both of vs , ) thou wile haue ruth , And grieue , that thou diddest not in time betake Thy selfe , to that , from which thou now so swaruest : When blasts of age , thy youthes faire fields doe shake , Which were not reap'd in season of their haruest . Regard ( deere Mayd ) my right , so plainely show'd , In these my writings , by thy name adorned , And thinke thy blooming youth , there best bestow'd Where thy declyning age , shall least be scorned . " So harmes foreseene are better still preuented " Than by experience of the losse repented .

Sonet . VI. LOng haue I sought ( ô ruthlesse faire ) to scale The long resisting walles of thy disdaine : Th' assaulters , were sighes , teares , and visage pale , Which outwardly , bewrayd mine inward paine . Defire , conueyd this ruth-deseruing rout , Vnto the fort , where my best hopes are seated , But then thy threatning frownes straight sallyed out , And with their might the weaker force defeated , Yet loth thus recreant to forsake the field , Behold , how fairely to compound I proffer , Choose thy conditions as thou list , and yeeld , And for reward , see here what I doe offer , The purest loue , that euer heart did hold , More worth than Mountaines of the Indian gold .

Sonet . VII . HEre Cynthia at thy feet I humbly tender , The keyes of my ( till now ) vnconquered heart , Whence I sue forth , voyd of affected art , Sighes , teares , and prayers , to make my soules surrender . Thou art a woman , women should be tender , Shew by thy sentence , of what sex thou art , And let their humble sutes , preuaile in part , That plead not , for an obstinate offender . All , seeke to breake thy brests congealed Ice , But so hard is thy heart , that nothing mooues thee , Ah , leaue deere Loue , to be henceforth so rice , The onely fault , for which the world reprooues thee , And weigh not lightly so , his sound aduice , That with such faith , such truth , such feruor loues thee .

Sonet . VIII . CYuthia , the teares which from mine eies down flowing , Did represent the Spring-tides of my sorrow . Are now quite spent , eu'n when my cares new growing , Had greatest need , their further aid to borrow ; My voice , which had in charge , my teates to second , Is with incessant cries , grow'n hoarse , and broken , For now foure gloomie Winters hath it reckon'd , Since of my loue , to thee it first had spoken ; Then , since my teares , and voice , at once are reft me , View in my face , the dumbe shewes of my greefe , Read in these lines , which onely now are left me , Legions of woes , raunged in words so briefe , Sure they would moue thee , if thou once did'st know them , But ah , they are so great I cannot showe them .

Sonet . IX . OFt haue I wished , in my zeales excesse , To make my Cynthia see proofes of my dutie , That in these lines , I could as well expresse , As in my soule , I doe admire her beautie , Or that great Daniell , fit for such a taske , This wonder of our Isle , had seene , and heeded , Then should his glorious muse , her worth vnmaske , And he himselfe , himselfe should haue exceeded ; Then England , Fraunce , Spaine , Greece , and Italye , And all that th' Ocean from our shoares diuideth , Would ouer-runne their bounds , and hether flye , To finde the treasure , that our Ireland hideth , But best is , that we neuer doe disclose it , Since knowne but of our selues , we shall not lose it .

Sonet . X. TO thee , the Lodestone of my heauie thought , To thee , the Starre that guides my beaten barke , To thee , the fairest one that nature wrought , To thee , that art the worlds admired marke , I send these mournfull hymnes , my zeale hath brought , From out my lightlesse griefes , Ci●●erian darke , And from dispaires deepe gulfe , that long hath sought , To drowne thy glorious praise , in my liues Arke . Appease , ( ô louely Mayd ) this raging storme , With thy sweet smiles , to me more comfortable , Than his Ermoes , to the Sea-mane ●ies . What though mine artlesse lines want phrase , and forme , Thy fauours , may their lowlinesse enable , To lift thy sacred name aboue the skies .

Sonet . XI . CVpid , that vnder thy sweet Yoke hast brought , Th' inhabitants , of this huge globe around , And that the depth of my desires , do'st sound , And seest the secrets , of mine inward thought , Thou seest , I feele , how deerely I haue bought , My wayting on thy standerd so renownd , And yet thou leau'st me groueling on the grownd , By long delayes , now tir'd and ouer wrought ; I see , but too farre off , that lamping light , To which thou doest me driue , and spurre amaine , But lo , I want thy wings , to make my flight ; Enough , and more , doe my desires obtaine , If I may wast , in my desires by leyser , And that my sighes , and teares , do not displease her .

Sonet . XII . I saw in earth , a forme Angelicall , And heau'nly graces , in a worldly wight , Which did my soule so rauish and delight , That since her name , I celebrate and call . I sawe from her faire eies , the teares downe fall , Those eyes which oft haue dim'd the Sunnes cleare light , And heard her sighing , vtter words of might , To stay the flouds , and moue the mountains tall . Doole , pittie , anger worthinesse , and loue , So sweete a mourning melodie consorted , That thither woods , and hils , and rockes remoue , And dead mens bones , out of their graue resorted . The spheares and starres , did stray from their due course , such of this heau'nly musicke was the force .

Sonet . XIII . MIne eies how can you without dazeling view , The fairest hew that euer ●ie had seene ? That souereigne Queen whom your sad looks haue sewd ? No Sunne hath vewd , nor neuer shall her peere : O you more cleare then are the sunnes cleare beames . Receiue these streames the tribute of mine eies . And you my cries the orators of sadnesse , Turning my gladnesse into ruthfull moanes , Ioyne with my groanes , blacke registers of sorrow , And sad words borrow of my dolefull tongue , To tell the wrong that you bereeues your food , Then what sowre moode , can moue her to withstand you . So fairly land you , in that happie port , Where doth resort the prize for which ye venter : And lowly enter to complaine my griefe , To my soules theefe , my liues Iudge now ordained . Let mine vnfeigned faith preuaile , deare iewell , O be not cruell since thou art so faire .

Sonet . XIIII . O Be not cruell , since thou art so faire , Let not disdaine my high deserts disgrace , Nor one foule fault thy beauties prize impaire , Sweete thoughts do best beseeme so sweete a face . Behold the triple region of the aire , Woods , valleys , mountaines , rocks , and euerie place , Are filled with Ecchoes of my plaints and prayer , Which at thy deaffened eares , still sue for grace . All of them shew each in his diuerse kind , That of my wofull case they haue compassion , The ro●ks my words repeating , seeme enclin'd To beare some burden of my hidden passion , Ah Cy●thia heare at length my grieuous mones , And be not harder than these sencelesse stones .

Sonet . XV. WHen careful thoughts that long disturb'd my mind Had giu'n my wearie sences leaue 〈◊〉 ●est , Old Morph●●s arose as beetle blinde , And did with his blacke Mace , mine eyes arrest , Me thought I saw a louely milke-white Hind , Whom straight pursued a stately Hart , whose crest , Did well declare be was of noble kind , And fawning shew'd he lou'd the gentle beast : Then forthwith did a mongrell whelpe appeare , His Sire a Stag , but on a Roe begotten , And soone this noble Hart beheld his deare , Accept th' vnkindly beast , himselfe forgotten . Who thence-forth euer raung'd the fields alone , And to the woods and winds still made his mone .

Sonet . XVI . VNto the woods and winds he made his mone , And sure his dolefull case I greatly rued , But that my mind was call'd from thence anone , To heed as strange a sight that straight ensued . Me thought two gentle Hawkes , but ioind in one , By kind and kindly choice , aloft I viewd : When lo , I saw the female , soard and gone . After a kestrell Kite obscurely mewd : Which sight so sore my fantasie did vexe , That suddenly I start out of my slumber : Not Cy●thia , but the frailtie of her sexe , Doth me with sad suspect and feares encumber : But cre my deere , my Hawke , make such a flight , O let these eyes first want their wonted light .

Sonet . XVII . O Let these eies , first want their woonted light , And vgly death , my captiue corps immure , And day be cancel'd by eternall night , And no Sun-shine , nor Moone , ne stars endure , Ere the worlds wonder , and my soules delight , Which doth the starres downe from their s●ates allure , To yeeld their homage to her beautie bright , should her faire worthes , with so foule staines obscure , Ere I , who blav'd her name in forraine soiles , Making old Albion shores her praise resound , Should see a stranger , triumph in my spoiles , Or any else , with my fresh garland crown'd . No , no , those Planets that her birth allotted , Will neuer see , their glories glasse so spotted .

Sonet . XVIII . O Dismald dreames , ofspring of sleepe and night , Hels messenger , fore-telling our misfortune , Robbers of rest , and enemies of light , That still with hastie sights our sence importune . Could not my Genius ill affected spright , Contriue the ruine of my weake estate , But you , O cursed dreames , for more despight , Must before time , mine ill prognosticate ? And thou , that hast my loue so meanly prized , The hire thereof vnto a straunger giuing , Was it for this , I thee haue canonized A heauenly Saint , though here on earth yet liuing . Ay me , what crosse i●urious starre assign'd So faire a face , to such a faithlesse mind .

Sonet . XIX . LIke as the siluer swanne in her extreames , Be-mones her selfe , with doolefull harmonie , And takes her lastleaue , of her haunted streames , Assuring them , that now her death drawes ni● . So thou my Muse , breath out in 〈…〉 , The sad discourses of my 〈…〉 ; And let thy lines , yelad in mourning co●●s , My neere approching end , prognosticare ; And thou poore heart , sometime the bl●ssefull bowre , Where ●ouely Cynthia , deigned to repose ●er , Thy ioyfull tunes , change into wailing sowre , For now thy ioy is past , and thou must loose her . Yet with thy ●●racke , procure in her some ruth , And make the world admire such loue and truth .

The first Madrigall . HAppie the beautious ●owres , and berbars soote , Wherein my Cynthia with the Muses walkes , Happie the shore , that heares her as she talkes , And beares t●●●mpres●ion , of her daintie foote : Happie the groue , which her aspect doth grace , Happie the lake , wherein she bathes her f●●e , Happie the soile , ordain'd to be her place . Soile , lake groue , flowers , to ease my deepe distresse , Impart some part , of your great happinesse .

Madrigall . II. THe wounded deare from running neuer ceaseth , Spur'd by the piercing shaft within his side , His grieuous paine ▪ doth him still forward guide , And still his restlesse race , his paine increaseth . Right so fare I , with that same deadly dart , Where with fierce loue , hath pierc'd my conquer'd hart , The more I fice , the more my wound doth smart . And now I find , in vaine they flee or tarrie , That with themselues , heir owne destruction carrie . That hath me , fra●'d ay me of feeling earth , And curse the day when first I saw that Sunne . Which makes me looke like one nurst in the wood , So fierce a Tygre in the wildest wood , Did neuer feed , as yet by night ne day , As shee for whom I weepe by shade and S●●ne , Gaining no truce from teares at eu'n ne morne : And though my selfe be made of lowest earth , My high desires come from the loftie starres , O that ere I returne to you faire starres , Or to my wo●●ed walkes within the wood , Tyring this corps which soone will turne to earth , I saw her rue me , who may in one day , Repaire my foure yeares losse , and ere the morne , Earich me at the rising of the Sunne . That I were with her at the set of Sunne , And none beheld vs saue the silent flarres , One night that could be shortned by no morne , And that she might not turne into greene wood , To leaue mine armes as Daphne did that day , That golden Phoebus chas'd her here on earth . But first shall earth enclose me in the wood , And dayes gray cope embrodered be with starres , Before my Sunne enioy so sweet a morne .

FINIS .

The second part .

Sonet . I. STep forth into the world mine Orphane verse , Abortiue brood , of my deceased hopes , And doolefully , pursue your parents hearse , Attir'd in your blacke stoales , and tawnie copes , Such mourning weedes , beseemes our mournfull woes , And sith reuenge , is all your remedie , With out-cries loud , to coasts vnknowne disclose , The dire contriuer of my tragidie : Then prophesie , with holie furie fir'd , And tell faire Cynthia , how the heau'ns on hie , The sunne , the starres , the earth haue all conspir'd , To wreake my wrongs , and end her tyrannie : And that the sprights below , and powr's aboue her , Threaten reuenge , for murther of her louer .

Sonet . II. LEd by the fainting steps of forlorne hope , Onward I go , where froward fates me driue , ●●ll past the bounds , of this our Horoscope , With wearied lims , at last I did arriue , Within a deseit darke vnhaunted caue , So low , that loath'd it seem'd of worlds pure aire , And by the Poesies , on the posts ygraue , I found it was the mansion of dispaire ; Further I past , vnto an inner roome , Where that sad wight , sat crosse-leg'd in his chaire , And humbly pray'd him to vnfold his doome , If any blisse , my bale should aye repaire ; Die wretch quoth he , and leaue not Fortunes scorne , thy hap was buried , ere thy hopes were borne .

Sonet . III. FAire trees , in whose smooth rines I oft engrau'd , That name , which loue had in my heart enrold , To whom as in those burning fits I rau'd , My neuer ceasing paines at large I told . Cleare lake , whose calme vast floore I ouer-pau'd With teares , that from my fertile eyes downe rol'd , When of your waters oft I humbly crau'd . To ease my flaming bowels with their cold : Declare my foure yeares loue , my discontents , And how I haue at Cynthiaes hand deserued , And you tall trees , my loues true monuments , Retaine those lines , which in your coates I carued , That men her name may read and reading hate , That was in loue so false , and so ingrate .

Sonet . IIII. O That my loue were with thy liking ended , And with thy faith , my fire had also turned , thy fault should not thus still be reprehended , And few had know'n the flame wherein I burned : My free-borne rimes , that ah too long haue mourned , And from blacke Lethes gulfe , thy name defended , Should of their charge , thy praise be now disburdned . And thou remaine vnknow'n , and vncommended : But since my cruell starres decrees are such , As cause me loue , and prosecute my death , My constant end , shall trie my loues pure tuch , Yeelding the farewell of my failing breath , To thee , O Vulture on my heart-strings seasing , Sith that my death is most vnto thy pleasing .

Sonet . V. MAruell not Cynthia , that my muse brings forth , these bitter fruits of long conceal'd disdaigne , Seeking to taint , thy neuer-matched worth , With oft obiecting thine vnkindnesse staine , For all , are rauings of a feeble braine , Of one , whom loue , and hate , haue long held sicke , Who , weakened by the force of former paine , By Cynthiaes change , is wexen lunatike . Thou Cynthia , art the Moone whose influence , the flowing tides of mine affects doth sunder , whose faire aspect , food of my greedie sence , Now hauing lost , I sterue , nor is it wonder , that my soules pow'rs , thus from their Cels haue ranged , Sith thou thy faith , but not thy forme , hast changed ,

Sonet . VI. AY me , dispaire comes now to claime the scope , Of my sad thoughts drownd in deepe woes excesse , For I am reft , the obiect of my hope , And my fierce faire , a stranger doth possesse , Yet Sydneys gentle sheepheard could deuise , In such a case , to find a remedie , who blear'd his icalous hosts mistrustfull eyes , By his kind hostesse handsome industrie , Then why should I despaire , of like successe , whose happie riuall , is a harmelesse boy , But ah , my Cynthia doth this hope suppresse , who chastely proud persists , and sweetly coy , But Cynthia , why do I for this reproue thee , Since for thou wast so chast , I first did loue thee .

Sonet . VII . THe peerlesse bird , bred in the Arabian soile , that solely liues on earth , without a mate , Strangely prouides by his owne small spoile , An heire , that may succeed him in his state : For when he knoweth his houre , he mounts so hie , that kindled by the sunne , in flames he flashes , and in that instant , out begins to flie an other of his kinde , borne of his ashes . Eu'n so my heart , consum'd with raging fire . Dies ( Cynthia ) that thy will may be fulfilled , But straight , loue charmes it with more fresh desires , and so reuiues , what thy disdeigne erst killed : Thus , doest thou kill , and cure againe , O cruell , Because my flames , may neuer want their fuell .

Sonet . VIII . Those scalding sighes , which shew'd my harts chast fire , More hot then sunne-beames , in the midst of Iulie , Nor those warme teares , sprung from more warme desires , that on my ruthlesse loue , did wait so duly ; Could vnto that supreame reward aspire , an infant late hath got , start vp but newly , Whose birth , or owne desert , was nothing hier , Ne could his age , yet learne to loue so truly . Yet , though I see , my selfe thus made a scoffe , I can not stoppe the course , of my zeales flood , My loue , and truth , when hopes are all cut off , Shall grow , like impes , which from hew'n stumps do bud , the world shall see , when nought my hope doth nourish , My faith once vow'd amidst despaire can flourish .

Sonet . IX . OH whither runst thou thus , mine angry pen ? Whither , my bitter , and respectlesse times ? Gainst her , who makes you loue in after times , and summons you , from out dumbe silence den . O , how I shame the world abroad should ken , Your railing Satires hates harsh sounding chimes , So falsly charging , with iniurious crimes , the worlds chiefe wonder , glorie vnto men . My soule , the pray to tyrannizing loue , found the retreat to mine inuectiue Muse ; Who , though my ruthlesse faire , thou canst not moue , Must yet obey thy fate , which sends the newes , that when my bones , in earth are cold and rotten , thy flame shall not be quencht , nor loue forgotten .

Sonet . X. CEase mournfull Muse , thine vnregarded mones , ●hat with my griefe , encrease my loues disdaigne : Disdaigne more hard to breake , then marble stones , For those , are pierc'd with drops of softest raine : But I , that from mine eyes , such showres do raigne , to mollifie a heart , more hard then stones , Find for my last reliefe , but sterne disdaigne , Which sutes my new-born griefs , with new found mones . Since then such griefe , clad in such artlesse truth In my remorselesse faire no pittie sturres , Since my complaints which must procure some ruth , In strangers eares , do sound so harsh in hurs : I le silent die , and leaue to deathes recitall , The storie of my loue , and loues requitall .

Canzone . THe ruler of this mightie Monarchie , That in his thought , this triple frame sustaines , Ruling it after his diuine election , Commaunded once the heau'ns , and starres on hie , And Elements to ioyne their pow're and paines , To build a worke of exquisite perfection ; They straight , their Lords direction , Obey , with care and dutious diligence , In such obedient strife , they all contended , That soone the worke was ended : So stately , faire , and of such excellence , As earst was neuer seene , of mortall sense . The walles were built , of spotlesse Alabaster , The roofe , where● the owner seemed lauish , Was all thicke couer'd , with the purest gold , Saue onely that the front , white snow did plaister , The loftie windowes , that my soule did rauish , With deare delight , as I did them behold , ( Ay me that was so bold ) Were two blacke orbes , encloz'd in circlesblew , Of let , and Saphire , quaintly interlaced , Which Hebene Arkes imbraced , Whence forth in troupes , Loues winged souldiers flew . And tooke me , ere I could their waites eschew , The gate was built of snow-white Iuorie , All drawne in compasse curiously about , And eu'nly set , within pure Corall bounds ; the leaues were brazill of Vermilion die : Within a Porter sate , who still sent out , A heau'nly consort , of melodious sounds , Which gaue me many wounds , And cured them eft , with Bal●●us of ioyes , Not Orphens song , ne Mermaids musicke rare , Could euer yet compare With this delightfull , strange , melodious noyse , Which ends and breeds a new , mine oldaunoyes . Amid the hall , there was a stately seate , With curious skill , and skilfull care yearued , A squared stone , of orient Diamond : Here reason sate , and great affaires did treat , And with his lore , this peerelesse worke preserued , Prescribing lawes , vnto that happie land , Loue walked on the strand , For this faire pile is walled with fairest riuers , And when he had espied the pleasing marke , He straight did bend his Arke , And at the precious Chaire , he shot whole quiuers , But ay the stone return'd his shafts in shiners . When thus a while in vaine his force he tri'd , Scorning the shamefull foile , he wheeles about , T'awreake his spite , vpon some weaker pow'r : And me vnarm'd alas he first espi'd , As I stood warelesse gazing in the rout , Which came to wonder , at this goodly towre . He star'd with visage sowre , And from his quiuer tooke a golden flight , That from the rest , of purpose he selected , And when I least suspected , I felt the shaft full in my bosome light , And yeeld I must , that wanted force to fight . Like one that hauing a repulse sustain'd , assaulting of a fort , doth turne his way , and sacks some village weake , and vnprepar'd : Or like a Lion fierce , with famine shaign'd , who , when he failes of his desired pray , Deuoures the beasts which he before had spar'd : So loue with me hath far'd : 〈…〉 thy power which earst did vanquish , 〈◊〉 Ph●bus , thundring Ione , and warlike Mars , Be not decayd and scarce : With those bright armes , that cause me thus to languish , Reuenge thine owne reproch , and case mine anguish . My song if any seeke , By their prompt wits thy mysteries to measure , Let them diuine , but neuer know thy treasure .

Madrigall . I. I Saw my faire , abrode the fields once randoning , That faire , on whom the heau'ns their graces lauished , Like louely Thetis , her sea-bowres abandoning , My sprights , forthwith with deepe delight were rauished , But then , on me she cast her looke so scornfully , That downe I sunke , and she nought caring vanished ; And euer since , I waile thus mournfully : From my soules blisse , by this dumbe sentence banished : Then iudge the world , how well my loue is guerdoned , Where I for meed , request but to be pardoned .

Madrigall . II. THe burning lampe , when once that oyle is spent , Whose humour erst , preseru'd it in his prime , Leeseth his light , and dieth incontinent ; So I , whom falshood and vnkindnesse rife , Haue left depri●'d of her who was sometime , Oile of my flaming lampe , lampe of my light , Do bid my last adue , to woddly ioyes . Which I ( God wot ) haue not enioy'd but seldome , For now mine end will end all mine annoyes , And to a lothsome life faire death is welcome .

Sonet . XI . FAre-well sweete Isle , within whose pleasant Bowres , I first receiued life , and huing ayre , Fare-well the soile , where grew those heau'nly flowres , which brauely de●ke the face of my fierce faire , Fare-well the place , whence I beheld the towres , with pale aspect , where her I saw repaire : Fare-well ye floods , encreased by those showres , wherewith mine eyes , did entertaine despaire : Fare-well cleare lake , which of art made the glasse , to rarest beautie , of mine ill the roote , when she vouchsafes vpon thy shores to passe , Blessing thy happie sand , with thy faire foote , Fare-well faire Cynthia , whose vnkind consent , Hath caus'd mine euerlasting banishment .

Sonet . XII . YOu that peruse these sorrow charming rimes , the dolefull ditties of a dying spright . Vouchsafe to rue my ruth-deseruing plight , and know the treasure of your happie times . No glorie I affect of future times : Such honours are too high for my poore plight , Striue they for such , whose vnaffected spright , Forge them a subiect , to set forth their rimes . If any chaunce : to find in these my times , the liuely patterne of his deadly plight , Let him condole with mine afflicted spright , whose griefe may not be told , in length of times . Times are to so short to shew my wofull plight , No rymes can sound the sorrowes of my spright .

His leane taking of Cynthia , r. herein his owne death is presaged . COmming to take my last leaue of my Loue , ( Oh that I then leaue of my life had taken , ) I told her , how I now my chance would proue : Abrode , since home-borne hopes had me forsaken . She then , in whom my piercing griefe did waken , Some sparke of ruth , too late alas assayes , To crosse this course , which I had vndertaken , Now she perswades , now weepes , now sweetly prayes . But , neither reasons , teares , nor prayers , could raise The siege , that honour to my heart had layd , When with a deep-fetcht sigh , the louely Maid , The horror of her breast , thus out bewrayes : Wo worth , quoth she , must that deare head and hand , Lie lowly earthed , in an vncouth land . FINIS .

The third Part.

To his Cosin Masster Richard Nugen● of Donower . Sonet . I. MIne owne Dicke Nugent , if thou list to know , The cause that makes me shun my westerne home And how my tedious time , I here bestow , Where angry Thetis , gainst her bounds doth fome : Weet , that to ease that neuer-healing wound , Which now foure sommers heate hath made to fester , By time , by absence , or by counsell sound . I flee the soile , where my sweete foe doth rest her . I soiourne here , where I remaine so easde , By this my flight , of the tormenting blow ; As doth the deare , on whom the shaft hath seazde , By late vnbending of the deadly bow ; And since , I haue this cursse eu'n fatall proued , That I am borne to loue , and not be loued .

The answer of M. Richard Nugent of Donower . Sonet . II. MIne owne deare Dicke , whom I loue as my life , And euer shall , whiles I in life remaine , I thee aduise , to leaue this lingring strife , Betweene thy loue , and thy loues hope so vaine , And for those yeares , wasted so long in vaine , To shed some teares , with full remorse of minde , And to be rid of thy tormenting paine , To shun the path , misguided by the blind : As for to flee the place , of thy decay , I n● mislike , ( if that may worke thine case . ) Yet better were , this weed to roote away , Which so infects , and fils thee with disease : For lust it is not loue , that doth torment , Where loue i● iust , there still is found content .

A Reply to the former Answere . Sonet . III. DEare is my Loue to me , as is my life , And euer whiles I liue shall so remaine ; Ne can preuaile a whit , thy friendly strife , Seeking to staunch my hearts loue-bleeding vaine . Leaue then ( deare Friend ) thy words to waste in vaine , Which so renew , the affections of the minde , My minde that proudly glories in my paine , Because it tels the world , I am not blinde . Ne can my Loue to those faire eyes decay , Though their cleare beames , did first my soule disease , And rather will I still thus pine away , Then ransome with my loue , my loues hearts ease ; Pure is the loue , which doth my life torment , My life so well bestow'd , I die content . Blaspheme no more , against my Loue so iust , Hearts truely louing , cannot thinke on lust .

To his trustie Friend Maister William Talbet . Sonet . IIII. NOwe will I write to satisfie thy will , Yet what thou least would read , that must I write ; For Cynthia breathes the Theame into my quill , And what my hand layth downe , shee doth endite . My will saith shee ( O Wretch ) is that thou liue , And euer liue , in neuer-dying griefe , Hard dome , which so denyeth that Tyrants giue , To haplesse wretches , for their last reliefe . This Theame , I must delate and amplifie , With tragicke Stories , wrought by Fortunes spight , How with one fatall blade , both Louers dye , And of Leander drown'd in Heroes sight . Thus of the dead , I sad examples borowe , To furnish out a Scene of liuing sorrowe . Faile not , my vowed seruice to commend , To that sweete Lady , in whom vertue shines , Whom least I should her iudgement graue offend , I leaue t' importune with myne idle Lines : Fare-well & to thy trust●e selfe retaine , These scencelesse rauings of a Loue-sicke brayne .

〈…〉 of Master William Talbet . Sonet . IIII. I Will giue thanks for this thy great good will , That bind'st thy selfe , at my request to write , And well I like the subiect of thy quill , Which in thy name , my passions doth endite : Well thou describ'st the state wherein I liue , Nay how I the , in euer-liuing griefe : And though thy woes to mine , no helpe can giue , Yet fellowship to misers is reliefe . Ioine then with me , thou need'st not amplifie , With aged tales thy wrong and Fortunes spite , Since of like wounds , we both at once must die , And both our harmes , procured by our sight ; Thou write we still , and though thy lines I borrow , Yet be affir'd I need not learne thy sorrow . I neede not to that Ladie thee commend , With praise , who can 〈◊〉 , where vertue shines , Yet did thine errand , hast I should offend : Shee s●●il'd , perusing of our carelesse lines , And sayd , write on , for if you should retaine , These idle humours , they would breake your brain .

Maister Thomas Shol●●●● answer to the 4. Madrig all of the first part , which beginneth : Sweet are my Cynthiaes . &c. WHat wight saw captiue stile so comfortable , As that , which thou didst send to me this morne , Stile , that t' enchant the gods them selues were able , O that such rare conceipt should maske in sable , which ought with glorie crownd , to be vpborne , Vnto the heauens , and plac'd at Ioues high table : Fortune , which euermore hath beene vnstable , Enui'd thy vertues , and thy great perfection , when she inchain'd thy heart , in such subiection , Of one , that is to pay thy loue vnable , with other thing , then dumbe shewes of affection .

A Sonet preferring the quiet life of the meane estate , to wealth and honors which procure enuie , and for the more part accompanied with danger . SWeete is the life , that clad in base estate , Farre from the reach , of enuies hatefull sting , Deuoid of malice , rancour , and debate , The chiefe attendants , on the court , and King , Doth yet enioy , a quiet calme content , Estraunged from the pompe of Princes traine , Vnto whose bow , there may be found no bent . Ne bounds their high aspiring to containe : Such was the blisfull life those sheepheards led , Those harmlesse sheepheards , that for loue so mourned , Piping vnto their flocke , while that they fed On the greene banks , by Flora Queene adorned ; So , happie liue they , though they liue obscurely , who liue contented , quiet , and securely .

A Sonet in Italian , made in commendation of the Authour , and Perswading Cynthia to leaue her sorrow . CYnthia quel ●igne che dite canoro Fe ris●onar al mondo'l chiaro nome , Lasciando in terra le terrene some . Salit' al ciel cant a nel' alto ch●r● . Ilor choronate di celest ' all●r● L'amato viso e quell aurate chiome Che le sue fiere voglie haueangia dome , Inuita al premie del mortal la●…re . Il or sente tuoi sospir' e'l piant'e dice , Non ti lagnar non ti guastar il vise Che tosto finir ann' it noi lamenti , Sarai tu come noi anchor felice , Alma gentil tra le beate menti Ebella piuche mai in Paradis● . FINIS .