Ouids Walnut-tree transplanted

OVIDS WALNVTTREE transplanted . I The poore nuttree , ioyning to the way , Offend not any : and yet euery day By idle trauailers , that passe along , Each stone or cudgell at my pate is flong . Theeues lead to hanging oft are ston'd , they say , When peoples furie brooks not lawes delay : I ne're offend , vnlesse it seeme a crime To yeeld my owner yeerely fruit in time . But heretofore , when fruit was more respected , Good trees were cherisht , barren ones reiected : Good planters then , when store of fruit was borne , Were wont their Gods with garlands to adorne . Thy grapes O Bacchus oft thou didst admire , Myneruas oliues were admi'rd by hir : And apples had their mothers limbs downe torne , If props and shores had not her armes vpborne . All wiues did then by our example beare , And in those dayes all matrons mothers were . But when the fruitlesse sycamores were held The best of all the trees dame earth did yeeld , Wee bearers ( if my selfe I may so call ) Brought them broad leaues but little fruit at all . Our bearing now scarce holds two yeares together : And that which comes is blasted by the weather . To beare a child by her that would seeme faire , Is thought too base : true mothers now are rare . If fruitlesse ; then thus haplesse were I not In wretched mother Clytemuestra's lot . If vines knew this , no grapes then would they bring , Nor from Mineruas tree would oliues spring : Tell this but to the peare , or apple-tree , They then will stint , and alwayes barren bee : The cherrie tree , that beares blush-coloured fruit , Would bee a barren stocke , if that she knew 't . Nor doe I enuie them , though barren stocks Stand fast and are not hurt with any knocks . Behold that row of trees stands whole and sound , Which nothing bear for which men shold the wound . But I am hurt , no man my boughes doth spare , My barke is slayed , my wood and heart lyes bare . Hate is no cause of this , but hope of gaine : Let other trees beare fruit , and they 'le complaine . Halfe hang'd is he , that hath much wealth & ground : Who hath no fleece , will scarce be guiltie found . Theeues he may feare , that loaden is with gold , An emptie purse makes Iourney safe and bold . So am I set vpon , because I bring Good store of fruit : leafe bearers safely spring . Nay and poore shrubs sometime , that neighbour mee , Are bang'd and ●orne , as pittie is to see . Yet to be beaten for , they fruit haue none ▪ Ill neighbourhood doth send them many a stone . And trust me not , if proofe doe not it show : For other trees stand sound which farther grow . If trees were wise and knew where best to root , They would be sure to stand hence fortie foot . Wretch that I am , who thus with losse abused Am hatefully for neighbourhood accused . But see , my owners care and bounteous hand , Who giues me but the ground in which I stand . I without setting spring and grow apace , And next the way is oft my homely place . The fruitfull fields doe me so harmefull thinke , That I am shouldred out to th' vtmost brinke : My shadie branches neuer prun'd hang rude And at my roote this soile is nere renude . Though by the sunne I often scorched bee , Ther 's none with watring that refresheth mee . But when my nut with ripenesse cleanes her hull , Then comes the Pole and threats my crowne to pull . And least of stones I onely might complaine , With staues my loaden boughes they bruise againe . My pulpe for second course men vse to haue . A thriftie housewife doth my choice nuts saue . These are the tooles of boyes-play , Cockvpall , Cobnut , and Fiue holes trundling like a ball : And Castle nut , where one on three doth sit , He winnes the foure , that any one can hit : Another downe a steepe set board doth throw , And winnes by hitting any nut below : Another Odde or euen playes a game , At which he winnes that can the number name . Others chalke figures in triangle fashion , Much like great Deltas starrie constellation , In which , the walnuts set in distance like , One throwes and winnes all that his stick doth strike . Sometime in distance set a part doth stand . In which one throwes a nut with luckie hand . Happie that tree , that growes in priuate fields : Shee all her tribute to her master yeelds , She neither out-cryes heares , nor rumbling wheeles , Nor from the neighbouring way the dust shee feeles . All that shee beares must for her master bee . Which shee at once in compleat troope can see . But I ner'e keepe my fruit till it grow ripe : To soone they rob my boughes with many a stripe . My shell but soft , my kernell milke as yet , My nuts for any vse can ner'e be fit : My fruit is common , some perhaps will say , Get it who can , it borders on the way . If this be law , your neighbours barley mow , Plucke oliues , let not his poore pothearbs grow : Let forragers inuade your Citie gates , And rattle London walls vpon your pates : Let it bee lawfull made , or thought a trifle , To rob your Goldsmiths shops and Iewels rifle : Let roisters snatch your coyne , and precious stones , Or what goods else they can , and make no bones . But all is well : God blesse our good Kings life , Who keepes vs safe from robberie and strife : His awfull scepter doth our Citie guide In blessed peace , and all his Realmes beside . What good get I poore nut by this , though peace Be o're the world , if my blowes cannot cease . Therefore the frighted birds dare build no nest Vpon my armes , nor pearch here for their rest . If on my forked boughes there rest a stone , He sits as if he thought the towne his owne . They that for other faults are oft accused , Will stand in 't t was not they , they are abused : But they that rob me , cannot well denie it : Written vpon their fingers you may spie it . That which I brand them with , is my deare bloud ; Wash while they will , their washing does no good . Wearie of loathed life how oft haue I Wisht my root withered and my branches dry ! How oft with whirlewinds to be ouerturned , Or with a flash of lightning to be burned ! O that a storme would dash them to the earth Or could I cast them by abortiue birth . The cause withdrawne , past is all dangerous doubt . The hunted Beauer so his stones bites out . What heart haue I when clownes doe cudgels take , And prye where they their battry best may make .