A gorgious gallery, of gallant inuentions Garnished and decked with diuers dayntie deuises, right delicate and delightfull, to recreate eche modest minde withall. First framed and fashioned in sundrie formes, by diuers worthy workemen of late dayes: and now, ioyned together and builded vp: By T.P. Proctor, Thomas, poet. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A10147 of text S102575 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 20402). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 219 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 61 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A10147 STC 20402 ESTC S102575 99838347 99838347 2722 2248554319

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A10147) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 2722) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1114:10) A gorgious gallery, of gallant inuentions Garnished and decked with diuers dayntie deuises, right delicate and delightfull, to recreate eche modest minde withall. First framed and fashioned in sundrie formes, by diuers worthy workemen of late dayes: and now, ioyned together and builded vp: By T.P. Proctor, Thomas, poet. [120] p. [By W. How] for Richard Iones, Imprinted at London : 1578. T.P. = Thomas Procter. Printer's name from STC. Signatures: A-P⁴. In verse. Title page marked and stained; print faded on last page. Reproduction of original in the Bodleian Library. eng eebo A gorgious gallery, of gallant inuentions. Garnished and decked with diuers dayntie deuises, right delicate and delightfull, to recreate eche modest m Proctor, Thomas, poet 1578 122 38487 17 0 0 0 0 0 4.42 B The rate of 4.42 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the B category of texts with fewer than 10 defects per 10,000 words. 2003-08 Assigned for keying and markup 2003-09 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-10 Sampled and proofread 2003-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-12 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

A gorgious Gallery , of gallant Inuentions .

Garnished and decked with diuers dayntie deuises , right delicate and delightfull , to recreate eche modest minde withall .

First framed and fashioned in sundrie formes , by diuers worthy workemen of late dayes : and now , ioyned together and builded vp : By T. P.

Imprinted at London , for Richard Iones . 1578.

A. M. Vnto all yong Gentilmen , in commendacion of this Gallery and workemen therof . SEE Gallaunts , see , this Gallery of delightes , With buyldings braue , imbost of variant hue : With daynties deckt , deuisde by worthy wights , ( Which ) as time serude , vnto perfection grew . By studies toyle with phrases fine they fraught : This peereles peece , filde full , of pretty pith : And trimde it , ( with ) what skill , and learning taught , In hope to please your longing mindes therwith . Which workemanship , by worthy workemen wrought , ( Perusde ) least in obliuion it should ly : A willing minde , eche part togeather fought , And termde ( the whole ) A gorgious Gallerye : Wherin you may , to recreate the minde , Such fyne Inuentions finde , for your delight : That , for desart , their dooings will you binde , To yeelde them prayse , so well a worke to wright . FINIS . A. M.
Owen Roydon to the curious company of Sycophantes . THe busie Bees whose paynes doo neuer misse , But toyle their time the winters want to wielde : And heape in hiues , the thing that needfull is , To feede their flocke till winter bee exilde : Somtimes the Drones the Hony combes doo eate , And so the Bees must starue for want of meate . The drowsie Drones doo neuer take such toyle , But lye at lurch , like men of Momus minde : Who rudely read and rashly put to foyle , What worthy workes , so euer they doo finde : Which workes would please the learned sorte full well , But Sicophantes will neuer cease to swell . Though ( learnedly ) themselues be voyde to write , And haue not knowen the height of Hellicon : Yet , carpingly , they needes must spit their spite , Or els their former force , ( they iudge ) is gon : Who only liue , the seelly Bees t'annoy , And eate the meate , wheron the Bees should ioy . ( Depart from hence ) that cursed kinde of crew , And let this Booke , embrace his earned meede : Which was set forth ( for others ) not for you , What likes them best , that only for to reade : And let the rest , without rebuke to passe , And helpe t' amend the thing that blamelesse was . ( APPELLES ) might suffise , to warne you wel , ( who ) while hee was a paynting in his Shop : Came in ( a Sowter ) who began to swell , And viewd his Image all from toe to top : And scofte at this , and did mislike at that , Of many a fault the Champion gan to chat . At length ( Appelles ) angry with his man , Dislyked much and gaue him answere so : ( Talke thou of that , wherin some skill thou can ) Vnto the slipper ( Sowter ) only go : The saucye ( Sowter ) was abasshed much , And afterward , his talke was nothing such . So ? ( Momus thou ) no further then thy marke , And talke no more , then skill doth giue thee leaue : But in thy hart , there is a burning sparke , And ( whiles thou liues ) that sickenesse will thee greaue : But doo thy worst , and doo no more but right , The learned route , wil laughe at thy despight . FINIS . O. R.
THE GALLERY of gallant Inuentions .
To a Gentilwoman that sayd : All men be false , they thinke not what they say . SOme women fayne that Paris was , The falsest louer that could bée : Who for his ( life ) did nothing passe , As all the world might playnly sée : But ventred life and limmes and all , To kéepe his fréend from Greekish thrall : With many a broyle hee dearely bought , His ( Hellen ) whom hée long had sought . For first ( Dame Venus ) graunted him , A gallant gifte of Beauties fléece : Which boldely for to séeke to win , By surging Seas hee sayld to Greece : And when hée was arriued theare , By earnest sute to win his Deare : No greater paynes might man endure , Then Paris did , for Hellen sure . Besides all this when they were well , Both hée , and shee , arryu'd at Troy : Kinge Menelaus wrath did swell , And swore , by sword , to rid their ioyes : And so hee did for ten yeres space , Hee lay before the Troyans face : With all the hoste that hee could make , To bee reueng'd for Hellens sake . Loe ? thus much did poore Paris bide , Who is accounted most vatrue : All men bee false it hath bin sayd , They thinke not what they speake ( say you ) Yes Paris spoke , and sped with spéede , As all the heauenly Gods decréed : And proou'd himselfe a Louer iust , Till stately Troy was turnd to dust : I doo not reade of any man , That so much was vnfaythfull found : You did vs wrong , t' accuse vs than , And say our fréendship is not sound : If any fault bée found at all , To womens lot it néedes must fall : If ( Hellen ) had not bin so light , Sir Paris had not died in fight . The falsest men I can excuse , That euer you in stories reade : Therfore all men for to accuse , Mée thinkes it was not well decréede : It is a signe you haue not tride , What stedfastnesse in men doth bide : But when your time shal try them true , This iudgment then , you must renue . I know not euery mans deuise , But commonly they stedfast are : Though you doo make them of no price , They breake their vowes but very rare : They will performe theyr promis well , And specially where loue doth dwell : Where fréendship doth not iustly frame , Then men ( forsooth ) must beare the blame . FINIS . O. R.
❧ The lamentable louer abiding in the bitter bale of direfull doubts towards his Ladyes loyalty , writeth vnto her as followeth . HEalth I thée send , if hée may giue , that which himself doth misse : For thy swéet brest , doth harbor whole , my bloody bale or blisse , I néede no scribe , to scry my care , in restlesse rigor spread : They that behold , my chaunged cheare , already iudge mée dead . My baned limmes , haue yéelded vp , their woonted ioy to dye : My healthles hand , doth nought but wring , & dry my dropping eye , The deadly day , in dole I passe , a thousand times I craue The noysome night : agayne I wish , the dolefull day to haue . Eche howre to mée , most hatefull is , eche place doth vrge my wo : No foode mée féedes , close vp mine eyes , to gastly graue I go . No Phisickes art , can giue the salue , to heale my paynfull part : Saue only thou , the salue and sore , of this my captiue hart , Thou art the branch that swéetly springs , whose hart is sound & true Can only cheare mée wofull wight , or force my want to rue . Then giue to mée , the sap I thirste , which gift may giue mée ioy , I mean thy firme , & faythful loue , whose want bréeds mine annoy , Remember yet sure fréendship had , ypast betwéene vs twayne Forget him not , for loue of thee , who sighes in secret payne . I oft doo seeme in company , a gladsome face to beare , But God thou knowst my inward woes , & cares that rent mée there : And that I may , gush out my gréefe , in secret place alone , I bid my freends farewell in haste , I say I must be gone . Then haste I fast , with heauy hart , in this my dolefull case : Where walkes no wight , but I alone , in drewsie desart place , And there I empt , my laden hart , that sweld in fretting mone : My sighes and playnts , and panges I tell , vnto my selfe alone . What shall I say ? doo aske mee once , why all these sorowes bee : I answere true , O foe or freend , they all are made for thee . Once knit the lynck , that loue may last , then shal my dollors cease It lyes in thee , and wilt thou not , the yeelding wight release ? O would to God , it lay in mée , to cure such gréefe of thine : Thou shouldst not long , be voyd of helpe , if t were in power of mine , But I would run , & range in stormes , a thousand miles in payne : Not fearing foyle , of freends to haue , my countenan e whole agayn And wilt thou then , all mercylesse , more longer torment mee ? In drawing backe , sith my good helpe , is only whole in thée ? Then send mée close , y hewing knife , my wider wound to stratch : And thou shalt see , by wofull gréefe , of life a cleane dispatch . When thou shalt say , and prooue it true , my hart entirely lou'd , Which lost the life , for countnance swéet from whom hée neuer mou'd Write then vpon my wofull Tombe , these verses grauen aboue , Heere lyes the hart , his truth to trie , that lost his life in loue . Loe , saue or spill , thou mayst mee now , thou sitst in iudgment hie , Where I poore man , at Bar doo stand , and lowd , for life doo cry . Thou wilt not bée , so mercylesse , to slea a louing hart : Small prayse it is to conquer him , that durst no where to start , Thou hast the sword , that cut the wound , of my vnhaluen payne : Thou canst and art , the only helpe , to heale the same agayne . Then heale the hart , that loues theé well , vntill the day hée dye : And firmely fast thy loue on him , that s true continually , In thée my wealth , in thee my woe , in thée too saue or spill : In thee mee lyfe , in thee my death , doth rest to worke thy will . Let vertue myxt , with pitty great , and louing mercy saue Him , who without thy salue , so sicke , that hee must yeeld to graue , O salue thou then , my secret sore , sith health in thee dooth stay : And graunt with speed , my iust request , whose want works my decay Then shal I blesse , the pleasant place , where once I tooke thy gloue , And thanke the God , who giues thée grace , to graunt me loue for loue . FINIS .
A louing Epistle , written by Ruphilus a yonge Gentilman , to his best beloued Lady Elriza , as followeth . TWice hath my quaking hand withdrawen this pen away And twice againe it gladly would , before I dare béewray The secret shrined thoughts , that in my hart do dwell , That neuer wight as yet hath wist , nor I desire to tell . But as the smoothered cole , doth wast and still consume , And outwardly doth geue no heate , of burnyng blaze or fume : So hath my hidden harmes , béen harbred in my corpce , Till faintyng limmes and life and all , had welnigh lost his force : Yet stand I halfe in doubt , whiche of these two to choose , To hide my harmes still to my hurt , or els this thraldome loose . I will lay feare aside , and so my tale beginne : Who neuer durst assaile his foe : did neuer conquest win . Lo here my cause of care to thée vnfolde I will : Help thou Minerua , graunt I pray , some of thy learned skill . Help all you Muses nine , my wofull Pen to write : So stuffe my verse with pleasant wordes , as she may haue delight , With héedyng eares to reade my gréeif and great vnrest : Some wordes of plaint may moue perhaps , to pitty my request . Oft haue I hard complaint , how Cupid beares a sway In brittle youth , and would commaund : and how they did obay . When I with skorning eares did all their talke dispise : But well I see the blinded boy : in lurking den hée lies , To catch the careles sorte : awayting with his Darte : Hée threw at mée when I vnwares , was wounded to the harte . To speake and pray for helpe , now loue hath mée constrainde : And makes mée yéeld to serue the sorte , that lately I disdainde . Sith beggars haue no choyce : nor néede had euer law The subiecte Oxe doth like his yoke : when hée is driuen to draw . That Ruphilus this wrote : thou wonder wilt I know , Cause neuer erst in louinge vearse : my labor I bestowe , Well , woful loue is mine , and wéeping lines I wright , And doubtfull wordes with driery chéere : beséemes a careful wight O thou Elrisa fayre , the beuty of thine eyes Hath bred such bale within my drest , and cau'sde such strife to ryse . As I can not forget : vntill deuouring death Shal leaue to mee a senceles goast : and rid my longer breath , Or at the least that thou : doo graunt mée some releefe To ease the gréedy gripes I féele , and end my great mischéefe . As due to mee by right , I can no mercy craue , Thou hast the power to graunt mée life : refuse not for to saue . Put to thy helping hand , to salue the wounded sore , Though thou refuse it for my sake : yet make thine honour more , Too cruell were the facte : if thou shouldst séeke to kill Thy faythful fréend that loues thee so : and doth demaund no ill . Thy heauenly shape I saw : thy passing bewty bright , Enforst mée to assay the bayt : where now my bane I bight I nought repent my loue : nor yet forthinke my facte , The Gods I know were all agreed : and secretly compacte . To frame a worke of prayse : to show their power deuine By good aduice this on the earth : aboue the rest to shine . Whose perfecte shape is such : as Cupid feares his fall , And euery wight that hath her séene , I say ( not one ) but all With one consent they cry : lo here dame Venus ayer , Not Danae nor shée dame Lede : was euer halfe so faire . Though Princes sue for grace : and ech one do thee woo , Mislyke not this my meane estate : wherwith I can nought doo , As highest seates wee sée : be subiect to most winde , So base and poore estates we know , be hateful to the minde . The happy meane is mine : which I do haply holde , Thy honor is to yéeld for loue : and not for heape of golde . If euer thou hast felte : the bitter panges that stinges A louers brest : or knowest the cares , that Cupid on vs flinges . Then pitty my request : and wayle my wofull case , Whose life to death with hasty whéeles : doo toumble on apace . Uouchsafe to ease the paine : that loue on mée doth whelme , Let not thy freend to shipwracke go : sith thou doost hold his helme . Who yeeldeth all hée hath : as subiect to thy will , If thou commaund hée doth obey , and all thy heastes fulfill . But if thou call to minde : when I did part thee fro , What was the cause of my exile : and why I did forgo The happy life I held , and lost there with thy sight , Well mayst thou wayle thy want of troth : & rue thy great vnright If thou be found to fayle thy vow that thou hast sworne Or that one iot of my good will , out of thy minde be worne . Or if my absence long : to thy disgrace hath wrought mée Or hindering tales of my back fréends : vnto such state hath brought mée . I can and will accurse the cause of my ill spéede : But well , I hope , my feare is more : then is the thing indéede . Yet blame mée not though I doo stand somewhat in feare The cause is great of my exile , which hardly I do beare . Who hath a sternles ship amidst the trustles Seaes , Full gréedely desires the porte : where hée may ride at ease . Thy bewty bids mee trust , vnto thy promise past , My absence longe and not to speake : doth make mee doubt as fast . For as the sommers sonne , doth make eche thing to spring : Euen so the frosen winters blast , as deadly doth them wring . Unsuer thus I liue in dreade I wot not why Yet was there neuer day so bright , but there be cloudes in sky . Who hath of puer Golde , a running streame or flud And is restraind for comming nigh , this treasure great and good . Hee must abide a time : till Fortune graunt him grace , That hee haue power by force to win : his riche desired place . I neede not thus to doo : nor yet so much mistrust , I know no time can change thy minde : or make thée bée vniust . No more then water soft , can stir a stedfast rocke : Or seely flyes vpon their backes can beare away a blocke . Eche beast on earth wée sée : that liuing breath doth draw , Bée faythfull found vnto their mates : and keepes of loue the law . My wretched life to ease : when I doo seke to turne , Thy bewty bright doth kindle mee , in greater flame to burne . No day , no night , nor time , that geues mee mirth or rest , Awake , asleape , and at my meales , thou doost torment my brest . Though weary lothsome lyfe : in care and wo haue clad mee , Remembrance of thy heauenly face , giues cause again to glad mée . Thus Ioyfull thoughtes a while , doth lessen much my payne But after calme and fayer tides , the stormes do come agayne . And I in cares doo flame , to thinke of my exile , That I am barred from thy sight : I curse and ban the while . Would God I had the craft a Laborinth to frame , And also had a Mynotaure : inclosed in thesame : And that our enemies all , might therin take some paine , Till Dedales line I did them bringe , to helpe them out againe . Then should my sorowes seace , and drowne my deepe dispaire , Then should my life be blest with Ioyes : and raisde aboue the ayre . But as the mazed birde , for feare dare skantly fly , When hee hath scapte the Falcons foote : euen so I know should I Scarse able be to speake , or any word to say , Least Argus wayting ielous eyes , might haply mée bewray But oh Elrisa mine , why doo I stir such war Within my selfe to thinke of this : and yet thy loue so far ? Why rather should not I : giue vp the life I haue And yeeld my weary wretched corps : vnto the gaping grau If I hopte not that thou with faith didst binde thy life , This hand of mine with bloody sworde , should stint my cruel strife . No length of lingring time : no distance can remooue , The fayth that I haue haue vowed to thée : nor alter once my loue . Beleeue this to bee true , that streames shall soner turne , Or frosen Ice to fier coales , on blasing flame to burne . Then I will seke to change : or alter once my minde , All plagues I pray may fall on me , if I be found vnkinde . Or if I meane to swarue while I haue liuing breath God graunt my end then may be such as Agamemnons death . I wish thy life no harme : but yet I woulde thou knew The wofull ende that Cressed made , because shee was vntrue . These angry gods or men , asonder that doo set vs , Shal neuer pearce our mindes in twaine nor eke to loue can let vs As well they may deuide the fier from the flame , And euery beast that now is wilde , as soone shal be made tame . Let not this pistle long , my sute with thee deface , Who pleadeth for his life thou knowest : at large must tel his case . And all these wordes I write , to one effect do tende , I am all thine , and not mine owne : and herewithal to ende . I pray thee to regarde : thy health and my request , And that my loue doo neuer fleet out of thy secret brest . FINIS .
NARSETVS a wofull youth , in his exile writeth to Rosana his beloued mistresse , to assure her of his faithfull constancie , requiring the like of her . TO stay thy musinge minde : hee did this pistle frame , That holds the deere , & loues thee most : Narsetus is his name Would God thy frend had brought : the health that here he sendes I should haue seene my lacking ioy , and heale that hart that rendes . And redy is eche hower : to sunder still in twaine , Saue now this pistle that I write : doth lessen wel my paine , And helpes mee to vpholde a lingring lothsome life , Awaiting still the blisfull hower , when death shall stinte the strife . What dooth it mee preuaile : to haue king Cresus wealth , Or who doth ioy in golden Giues , imprisoned with his health , I sweare by Ioue to thee , whose godhead is aye iust , These wordes I write are not vntrue : then do mee not mist rust . Thy selfe shal be the iudge : and if thou list to vewe , The bared bones , the hollow lookes , the pale and ledy hew , The stealing strides I draw : the wo and dreadfull feares The boyling brest with bitter brine , the eyes be sprent with teares The skant and hungry meales : the seldome slepe I take , The dainty dames that others ioy , do iest to mee do make These hated hatefull harmes : when I them feele to greeue mee Remembrance of thy beuty bright , doth straight again releeue mee And then I cal to minde , thy shape and cumly grace , Thy heauenly hew thy sugred words , thy sweet entising face The pleasant passed sportes : that spent the day to ende , The lothsom lookes that liked not to leue so soone thy freend . Sith froward fortune hath , my Mystresse thus bereft mee , Perforce I yéeld and am content , to like the lot is left mée . If Pyramus were sad , when hée found Thisby slayne , If Cresseds craft and falsing fayth : did Troylus turne to payne , Eneas traytor false : oh treason that hée did , With bloody woundes and murdering sword , Quéene Didos lyfe hath rid If these haue won by death and end of pyning payne , And I aliue with torments great in dying deathes remaine . The sound of instruments : or musickes pleasant noyce , Or riches rule , or proude estate , doth cause mée to reioyce Or Venus damsels deere , do please mée euen as well , As dying bodies ioy to here , for them a passing bell . The greefes that gripe my hart , and dayly do mée slay It lessen would much of the smart , if thou vouchsafe to say : God graunt his weary life : and sorrowes to asswage , God yeeld him health and happy dayes with honor in his age . These wordes would win my life , dispaired now to death , Thou should but saue that is thine own , while I haue liuing breath What heapes of haples hopes , on me shall chance to fall , So thou doo liue in blisfull state : no force for mée at all . Amid my greatest greefe , the greatest care I haue , Is how to wish and will thée good : and most thy honor saue . Bee faythfull found therfore , bée constant true and iust If thou betray thy louing fréend , whom hensforth shall I trust ? When shal I speake with thee ? when shal I thee imbrace ? When will the gods appease their wrath ? when shal I haue sutch grace ? Hath Ioue forgotten dame Lede for loue : and how hee prayed her , Transformed like a swan at length : the séely soule hee trayde her . When faire fresh Danae was closed vp in tower : Did hee not raine himselfe a drop , amidst the golden shower And fell into her lap : from top of chimney hid ? The great delight of his long loue : hee did attaine thereby , What cruell gods be these ? what trespasse haue I doone ? That I am banisht thus from thee , what conquest haue they woon ? I know their power deuine : can for a while remooue mee , But whilste I liue , and after death , my soule shall likewise loue thée Not Alcumena shee , for whom the treble night Was shaped first , can well compare with thee for bewty bright Not Troylus sister too , whom cruell Pirrhus slew , Nor shee , the price of ten yeres wars , whom yet the Grekes do rew Nor shee Penelope , whose chastnes wan her fame , Can match with thee Rosina chaste : I see her blush for shame . The childe of mighty Ioue , that bred within his braine Shall yeeld the palme of filed speche , to thee that doth her staine . And euery wight on earth : that liuing breath do draw , Lo here your queene sent from aboue , to kepe you all in awe But nowe I fine my talke , I finde my wits to dull , There liueth none that can set forth thy vertues at the ful . Yet this I dare well say , and dare it to auowe , The Gods do feare Rosinas shape : and bewty doth alowe . In Tantalus toyle I liue : and want that most I would , With wishing vowes I speake , I pray : yet lacke the thing I should I sée that I do want : I reach , it runnes mée fro : I haue and lacke , that I loue most , and lothest to forgo . But oh Rosanna dere : since time of my exile How hast thou done ? and doost thou liue : how hast thou spent the while How standeth health with thée ? and art thou glad of chere ? God graunt those happy restful dayes , increase may still each yere . If any gréefe or care , do vex thy wofull hart , Then God I pray to giue thée ease , and swagement of thy smart . Yet this I doo desire , that thou be found to abide A freend : euen such as shal mislike , with sodaine change to slide . If pleasure now thou hast , to spend the dreiry day , Read then this pistle of my hande , to driue the time away . If all thy freendes aliue : would from thy frendship swarue , A thousand deathes I do desire , in wretched state to starue . If I amongst the rest , should alter so my minde , Or thou shouldest charge I promise brake , or els am found vnkinde Though Argus ielus eyes : that daily on vs tend , Forbid vs meat and speech also , or message for to send . A time will come to passe , and thinke it not to long That thou and I shall ioyne in ioy , and wreake vs of our wrong . Which time I would abide : though time too long doth try mee In hope againe when time shal serue , thou wilt not then deny mee Thus hope doth mee vpholde : for hope of after blisse , And lose therby my present ioy , in hoping still for this . I doo commend to thee : my life and all I haue , Commaund them both as thee best likes : to lose or els to saue . I am no more mine owne , but thine to vse at will Thesame is thine without desert , if thou mee seke to kill . Bee glad thou litle quere , my mystresse shall thee see Fall flat to ground before her face : and at her feet doo lie : Waste not to rise againe , nor doo her not withstand If of her bounty shee vouchsafe , to rayse thee with her hand . Say thy maister sent thee , and humbly for mée greete her , Thou knowest my selfe doth wish full ofte : to be in place to meete her . If any worde in this , hath scapte and doo her greeue , A pardon craue vpon thy knee , and pray her to forgeue A giltles hand it wrote , thou mayst be bolde to tell : No minde of malice did mee moue , her self doth know it well . Thou canst and I deserue : make glad my wofull sprite , I craue no answer to thy payne : nor force thee for to write . It should suffise if thou : voutchsafe to reade the same , This pistle then if thou mislyke , condemne it to the flame . But now there néedes no more , I will this pistle ende , Estéeme Narsetus alwayes well : that is thy faythfull fréend , FINIS .
The Louer forsaken , writeth to his Lady a desperate Farwell . EUen hée that whilome was : thy faithful fréend most iust , That thrise thrée yéeres hath spent & past , reposing all his trust In thy bewayling words , that séemed sugar swéet The selfsame man vnwillingly : doth with these lines thée greet . I can not speake with thee : and speaking is but paine , To speake and pray and not to speede : too fruitles were the gayne . Inforste therfore I write , and now vnfolde my minde , I loue , and like as earst I did , I am not yet declinde . Though time that trieth all , hath turnde the loue you ought , No changing time could alter mee : or wrest awry my thought . And sure I doo mislyke , that wemen choose to change , Ungratefull folkes I do detest , as monsters foule and strange . Sith first I did you know : I neuer spake the thing That did intend you to beguile , or might repentance bring . Thrise hath my pen falne downe : vpon this paper pale , And scantly can my hart consent : to write to thee this tale . Least hasty Iudgmentes might , misdeeme my giltles minde , To charge that malice moues my spéech , or some new frend to finde The gods I vouch to ayd : who knowes the troth I ment , To swarue or fleet from that I vowed , was neuer my intent . But as the Courser fearce , by pearcing spur doth run , So thy desertes enforce mée now : to see this worke begun . Would God I had no cause to leaue that I did loue , Or lothe the thing that likt mee so : nor this mishap to proue . But sith no thing in earth : in one estate can bide , Why striue I then against the streame , or toyle against the tide ? And haue you now forgot , how many yéeres I sought , To get your grace with whot good will : how dearly I it bought . There is no one aliue , that nature euer made That hath such giftes of vertues race , and such vntroth doth shade . If fayth might haue bin found , within a womans brest , I did beleeue within thy hart , shee chose her place to rest . Unskilful though I bee , and cannot best deserne , Where craft for troth doth preace in place , yet am I not to learne . And I did thinke you such : that litle knew of guile , But seemings now be plaste for deedes , and please fulwel the while Why doo I wonder thus ? to thinke this same so strange , Who hath assayed and knoweth not ? that wemen choose to change . Haue you thus sone forgot , the doutes and dreades you made , Of yongmens loue how litle holde , how sone away they fade . How hardly you beleeued , how often would you say , My wordes were spoken of the splene : and I as oft denay . How oft did you protest with handes vpstretcht to skyes ? How oft with othes vnto the Gods ? how oft with weeping eyes ? Did you beseech them all , to rid your spending dayes ? When that you thought to leaue your fréend : to dy without delayes Mée thought in heauen I saw : how Ioue did laughe to skorne . To sée you sweare so solemly , and ment to be forsworne . But as the Sirens singe , when treason they procure , So smyling baytes the harmles soules : vnto their bane alure . Thy fawning flattering wordes , which now full falce I finde , Perswades mee to content my selfe , and turne from Cressids kinde . And all the sorte of those : that vse such craft I wish A speedy end , or lothsome life , to liue with Lasars dish . Yet pardon I do pray : and if my wordes offend , A crased ship amid the streame , the Marriner must mende . And I thus to it and turnd : whose life to shipwracke goes Complaynes of wrongs thou hast mee don , and all my greefe forth showes . And could your hart consent ? and could you gree therto ? Thus to betray your faythful freend , and promis to vndo ? If nought your wordes could binde , to holde your suer behest , Nor ought my loue ne othes you sware , could bide within your brest Yet for the worldly shame , that by this facte might rise , Or for the losse of your good name , for dealing in this wise . Or thus to see mee greeu'd : tormented still in payne , Thy gentil hart should haue bin pleasde such murder to refrayne . But through thy cruell deede : if that vntamed death , With speedy dart shall rid my life , or leaue my lyuing breath . The gods then can and will : requite thy bloddy acte , And them I pray with lowly sute , for to reuenge thy facte . God graunt the earth may bring : nought forth to thy auayle , Nor any thing thou takest in hand , to purpose may preuayle . Thy most desired freend , I wish may bee most coy , Wherin thou doost thée most delite : and takest the greatest ioy . That same I would might turne : vnto thy most mischeefe , That in thy life thy hart may feele , the smart of others greefe . But sith no good can come : of thy mishap to mee , I graunt some blame I doo deserue , that thus desire to see Thy blisfull life so changde , from weake to wretched state , When freendes do breake the bonde of loue , then is their greatest hate . Thy deedes do sure deserue , much more reuenging spight , Then hart can thinke or tongue can tel , or this my pen can wright . Thy bewty bright is sutch , that well it would inuade , A hart more hard then Tigar wilde : and more it can perswade . Then Tullyes cunning tongue : or Ouids louing tale , Well may I curse and ban them both , that so haue brewed my bale . I feare to praise to far : least haply I begin , To kindle fier that well is quencht , and burne mée all within . For well I may compare : and boldly dare it say , Thou art the Quéene of women kinde , and all they ought obay . And all for shame doo blush , when thou doost come in place , They curse ech thing that gaue thée life , and more disdain thy face . Then any liuyng wight : doth hate the Serpent foule , Or birdes that singe and flies by day , abhors the shrikyng Owle . Oh that a constant minde : had guided forth thy dayes , I had not then assayd myshap : nor pen spoke thy disprayse . Decréed sith that thou art , for euer to forsake mée , In sorrows swéete I wil mée shrine : till death shall list to take mée . Bewayle O woful eyes , with fluds of flowing teares , This great mischaunce thy lothsome life , that all ill hap vp beares , Since parted is your ioy , resigne likewise your sight , I neuer will agree to like , or looke on other wight . Nor neuer shall my mouth consent to pleasant sound , But pale and leane with hollow lookes : till death I will bée found . And you vnhappy handes : with lyking foode that fed mée , Leaue of to labor more for mée : since sorrow thus hath sped mée . Lament vnlustie legges : bée lame for euer more , Sith shée is gone for whom you kept : your willing pace in store . O hatefull heauy hart : bewayle thy great vnrest , Consume thy selfe or part in twaine : within my blouddy brest . And yée my sences all : whose helpe was aye at hand , To length the life that lingreth now , and lothsomely doth stand . Yée sonne , ye moone and starres : that gyues the gladsome light Forbeare to show your force a while : let all bée irkesome night . Let neuer soyle bringe forth , agayn the lusty gréene Nor trées that new dispoyled are , with leafe be euer séene . Let neither birde nor beast : posses their wonted minde Let all the thinges that liues on earth , be turned from their kinde . Let all the furies forth , that pine in Hell with payne , Let all their torments come abroad : with lyuing wightes to rayne . Let peace be turnd to war , let all consume with fier , Sith I must dye that once did ioy , and lose that I desier . I hate my life and breath , I hate delighting food , I hate my greefe I hate my death : I hate that doth mee good . I hate the gentill hart : that rueth on my payne , I hate the cruell stubborn sorte , that doth my life disdayne . I hate al sortes of men , that haue their life in price , And those I hate that folow death , esteeming them vnwise I hate these carefull thoughtes that thinke on my sweet so , I hate my selfe then twice as much : if I forget her so . I hate , what would you more , I wot not what I hate , I wish her dead and layed in graue : I wish her better state . Come wilde and sauadge beastes , stretch forth your cruell pawes , Dismember mee , consume my flesh : imbrew your greedy iawes . Within your entrayles : see a coffin ye prepare , To tombe this carefull corpes that now , vnwillingly I bare . Come lingringe slothful death : that doost the wretch deny To show thy force and ridst the riche , that list not for to dye . Is this the recompence ? is this the due reward ? Doth loue thus pay his seruants hier ? and doth hee thus regard ? And doth hee vse to set , the harmles soules on fier , With faire sweet intisinge lookes : to kindle their desier ? Fye false loue that hast so decte , with bewty bright , A Lady faire with such vntroth , to worke such cruell spight . And ye that did pursue blinde loue with speedy pace , Referaine your steps example take , of this my wofull case . Let this alone suffise , that in few wordes I say , Who can beware by others harmes , thrice blest and happy they . Beleeue this to bee true : that now too true I proue , But litle troth in womens breast : and fleeting in their loue . God graunt each wight on earth , that serues with faythfull minde , A better hap and that hee may , a truer Mystrisse finde . FINIS .
The Louer in distresse exclaymeth agaynst Fortune . HOw can the criple get , in running race the game ? Or hee in fight defend himselfe , whose armes are broken lame ? How can th' imprisoned man whofe legs be wrapt in chaynes , Thinke this his life a pleasant time , who knoweth nothing but paines ? So how can I reioyse , that haue no pleasant thing , That may reuiue my doulfull sprits , or cause mee for to singe . My legs be lame to goe , mine armes cannot embrace , My hart is sore , mine eyes bée blinde , for lacke of Fortunes grace . All this is Fortunes fault , that keepes these sences so , Shée may aduaunce them if shée list , and rid them of this wo. It is her cruell will , alwayes on mee to lower , To kepe from mée her pleasant giftes , to make mée know her power Alas , alas , fie Fortune , fie : why art thou so vnkinde , To mée that fayne would bée thy sonne , and euer in thy minde ? Now doo I thée beséech , with pleasures mée to frayght , To temper this my wofull life , or els to kill mée strayght . FINIS .
An other complaint on Fortune . IN doubtful dreading thoughts , as I gan call to minde , This world , and eke the pleasures al , that Adams children finde , A place of pleasant hew appeared to my thought Where I might sée the wonderous works which nature for vs wrought . All things of any price , approched to my sight , And still me thought that each man had , that was his most delight . The riche man hath his ioy : his riches to imbrace , So hath the huntesman his desire , to haue the Hart in chace . And other haue their sporte to sée the Falcon flee , And some also in Princes court : in fauor for to bée . The warring Knight at will , an horse doth run his race , And eke the louer , in his armes , his Lady doth embrace . When that I sée eche man enioy his whole delite , Saue I alas poore cursed man whom Fortune doth so spite . I fall straight to the ground , amazed with much griefe , With blouddy strokes vpon my brest , I striue to rid my lief . And thus I thinke , how can fayre pictures those delight : Whom nature from their tender age , defrauded of their sight . FINIS .
The louer beeing newly cought in Cupids snares , complayneth on the Gods of loue , and compareth his greefe as followeth . THe hugie heape of cares , that in this world I finde , The sodayne sighes that sore molest my hart The foolish fansies that still run in my minde : Makes mée to lay all ioy and myrth apart , Lamenting still the causes of my smart . But oh , alas , the more I wéepe and wayle , The more my gréefe to mée séemes to preuayle . The more I seeke my pinchinge panges to swage , By diuers wayes , such as I thinke be best The more it frets , the more it gins to rage , So that my senceles head can take no rest : Ah seely wretch , what doth thee thus mollest Or what doth thus perturbe thy restlesse braynes , And from thy harte all worldly ioye detaynes . Alas what this should bee I can not tell , My youthfull yeares can skill of no such change But if some vgly shape of fury fell : Or wicked wight that in this world doth range Hath witched mee with this disease so strange . Or Cupid with his force of cruell dart , Hath stricken mee and wounded thus my hart . Hath Cupid then sutch power on mortall wightes ? And strikes the blinded boy his dart so sure ? That no man can auoyd his subtill slightes , Nor ought agaynst his fury may indure ? Hath Venus force men thus for to allure ? And why then ? doth shée not her sonne commaund To shoote alike and strike with equall hand ? Is this the guise of powers that raigne aboue , Us séely soules in snares thus for to trap And care they not to yéeld vs death for loue ? Ioy they in woes our corses for to trap ? And passe they not what vnto vs doth hap ? Can Gods aboue to man beare any hate , Or doo they mocke and iest at our estate ? Ah foolish foole ? what fancy rules thy head . Or what doth cause thée now this talke to moue ? What fury fell doth thée poore wretch now lead ? To rayle on all the Gods doth it behooue ? Sith it is only Cupid God of loue . That guiltlesse shee with stroke of goulden shafte , Hath wounded thus and thee of ioyes berafte . Euen as the slender Barke that long is tost By surging waues cast vp from deepest seas : And Saylars still in daunger to be lost , Doo hale and pull in hope to take their ease : When stormy fluds begin once to appease . Euen so fare I beeing in Cupids power In hope at last to see that happy hower . Wherin I shall my wished ioyes obtayne , And placed bee within her gentill hart , Then shall I take my sorrowes all for gayne . When I haue her that causeth now my smart , Then farewell Cupid with thy cruell darte And welcome shee that pearst mee with her sight , Shee is my Ioy , shee is my hartes delight . FINIS .
The Louer extolleth , aswell the rare vertues of his Lady beloued , as also her incomparable beautie . DEsire hath driuen from mée my will , Or Cupids blase hath bleard mine eyes : Knowledge mee fayles , my sight is yll : If kinde or cunning could deuise Nature to paynt in better plight To set her forth with red and white : Or if men had Apelles arte , Who could her mend in any parte ? Her face declares where fauor growes , And telles vs heere is Beauties grace : Her eyes hath power to binde and lose , Her countenance may fréendes embrace . Her cheekes bedecte with bloud full fayre , Her collour cleare as is the ayre : Her haire , her hand , her foote also , Hath wonne the praise where euer shée go . Her lookes doo séeme to speake alone , When that her lips remooue no whit Her inwarde vertues may be knowen : By vsinge of her sober wit . Her iestures also cumly are , My tongue lackes skill them to declare : The rest of her that are vnnamed , In perfect shapes are lyuely framed . Now though that kinde hath set her forthe , And natures workes shée hath possest , Théese goodly giftes are litle worth : If pitty dwelt not in her brest . Oh , God forbid such flowring youth Should bée mislyked for lacke of ruth , For I with other might say then : Lo , this is shée that killeth men . FINIS .
The Louers farewell , at his departure , perswadeth his beloued to constancie in his absence . THough Fortune cannot fauor According to my will : The proofe of my behauor : Shall bée to loue you still . Entending not to chaunge , Whiles that my life doth last : But still in loue to raunge : Till youth and age be past . Though I bée far you fro , Yet in my fantacie : I loue you and no mo : Thinke this assuredly . Your owne both true and iuste , Alwayes you shall mée finde : Wherfore of right you must , Haue mée likewise in minde . And doo not mée forsake , Though I doo tarry longe : But take mée for your make , I will not chaunge my songe . Though absence now a while , Do part vs thus in twayne : Thinke neither craft nor gyle , For I will come agayne The same man that I went. Both in my woorde and déede : Though some men doo relent , And grudge that I should spéed . But if you doo remayne , And do not fro mée starte : My hart you doo attayne , Till death vs two depart . And thus farewell adew , And play an honest parte : And chaunge mée for no new , Séeing that you haue my hart . FINIS .
A propper Dittie . To the tune of lusty Gallant . THe glyttering showes of Floras dames Delightes not so my carefull minde , Ne gathering of the fragrant flames : That ofte in Floras Nimphes I finde . Ne all the noates of Birdes so shryl Mellodiously in woods that singe , Whose solemne Quires the skyes doth fill : With noate on noate that heauenly ringe . The srieking Fish in streames that springe And sporte them on the riuers side , The Hound the Hauke and euery thinge : Wherin my ioyes did once abide , Doth nothinge els but bréede my wo Sith that I want which I desier , And death is eke become my fo : Denying that I most requier , But if that Fortunes fréendly grace Would graunt mine eyes to take the vew , Of her whose porte and amorous face My senses all doth so subdew . That raunging too and fro to gayne The pray that most delighteth mee , At last I finde that bréedes me payne : Shee flyes so fast it will not bee . Then in my selfe with lingering thoughts A sodayne strife begins to gro , I then doo wish such Birdes at noughts : That from their louers flyeth so . At last I see the Fowlars gin , Prepared for this Birde and mée Then wisht I lo his hed therin : So that my birde and I were frée . FINIS .
The Louer perswadeth his beloued , to beware the deceites and allurements of strange suters . BE stedfast to thine owne As hée is vnto thée , Regard not men vnknowen But loue thine owne truly For oft deceyts are sowen By them that vnknowen bée Wherfore cast of the rest : And thine own loue thou best . For though that their false suite Séeme pleasant in thine eare , Thou knowst oft times ill fruit A pleasant trée doth beare . If thou chaunce to repute A rotten Apple cleare , Better to loue thine owne And forsake men vnknowne . Thou doost well vnderstand These wordes not spoken seilde More suer a birde in hand , Then twenty in the feild . Thou knowest thine owne sure band And how that it hath helde Then chaunge it for no new : But loue him that is trew . If suters doo thee moue Or dayly to thée write , Yet graunt to them no loue Their paynes for too requite . But thinke it doth behooue Thée alwayes to doo right Then must thou loue thine own And forsake men vnknowne . This counsayle I thée giue As farforth as I can , As I that whiles I liue Wilbée thine onely man . For sure it would mee gréene , To see thée out of frame Or chaunge at any time : Thine owne not to bee thine . Thus written by thine owne To thee with all his harte , Disiringe the vnknowen Of thee may haue no part . For if sutch chaunge bee sowen No doubt thou killest my hart Wherfore I say beware : Alwayes the vnknown snare . FINIS .
The Lady beloued exclaymeth of the great vntruth of her louer . WOuld god I had neuer séen , the teares of thy false eyne Or els my eares ful deaf had bin That herd those words of thine Then should I not haue knowne Nor chosen to my part : So many euils in one To kill my poore true hart . As now in thée I finde , Who bidst mee from thée go : As false and full vnkinde , Alas why doost thou so ? Was neuer man so false of othe , To none as thou to mee Was neuer woman of more troth Then I haue ben to thee . And thou to leaue mee so , And canst no iust cause tell : But wilt thou spill with wo , The hart that loues thee wel . Mee thinkes that for my part , I may speake in the same , I say me thinkes thou art , Euen very mutch to blame . Pardy , it is but litle praise , To thee that art a man : To finde so many crafty wayes , To fraude a poore woman . At whom all women smile , To see so fonde on thee : And men although they wayle , To see how thou vsest mee . To lure mee to thy fist , To ease thy feigned payne : And euer when thou list , To cast mee of agayne . The wretched hound that spendes his dayes , And serueth after kinde : The Horse that tredeth the beaten ways As nature doth him binde In age yet findes releefe , Of them that did him wo : Who in their great mischeefe , Disdayne not them to know . Thus they for wo and smart , Had ease vnto their paine : But I for my true part , Get nought but greefe agayne . The weary and long night doth make mee dreame of thee , And still me thinks with sight , I see thee here with mee . And then with open armes , I strayne my pillow softe : And as I close mine armes , mee thinkes I kisse thee ofte . But when at last I wake And finde mée mockte with dremes Alas , with moone I make My teares run down like streames . All they that here this same , Wyll spit at thy false deede : And bid , fie on thy cursed name , And on thy false seede . That shewest so to the eye , And bearest so false an hew : And makest all women cry , Lo , how ye men be vntrew ? But yet to excuse thée now , To them that would thee spot : I le say , it was not thou , It was mine owne poore lot . FINIS .
The Louer declareth his paynfull plight for his beloued sake . SInce néedes ye will mee singe , giue eare vnto the voyce , Of mée pore man your bond seruant , that knoweth not to reioyce . Consider wel my care , my paine and my vnrest : Which thou with force of Cupids Dart hast grafted in my brest . Heale , and withdraw from mee , the venim of that Darte Haue pitty , and release this wo , that doth consume my hart : The greatnes of my greefe , doth bid mee seeke release I seeke to finde to ease my payne , yet doth my care encrease . I cease not to beholde , that doth augment my payne : I sée my selfe I seeke my wo , yet can I not refrayne . That should my wo release , doth most encrease the same , The colde that should acquench the heat , doth most enrage the flame My pleasure is my payne , my game is most my greefe My cheefe delite doth worke my wo , my hart is my releefe Sutch haps doth hap to them , that happeth so to loue , And hap most harde : so fast to binde , that nothing can remooue . For when the harme is fixed , and rooted in the hart , No tongue can tell , nor pen may write , how greuous is the smart I haue thought loue but play , vntill I felte the sore , But now I felte a thousand greefes I neuer felt before . To tell what paynes I bide , if that I could deuise , I tel the truth , beleeue mee wel , the day will not suffise Graunt now therfore some rest , since thus thou hast mee bound , To be thine owne , til body mine , lye buried vnder ground . FINIS .
The Louer hauing his beloued in suspition declareth his doutfull minde . DEeme as ye list vpon good cause Yee may , and thinke of this or that , But what , or why , my selfe best knowes , Wherby I thinke and feare not . Wherunto I may wel like The doubtful sentence of this clause I would ye were not as I thinke I would I thought it were not so . If that I thought it were not so , Though it were so , it greeued mee not , Unto my hart it were as tho I harkened and I heare not . At that I sée I cannot winke , Nor for my hart to let it go I would it were not as I thinke I would I thought it were not so . Lo how my thought might make mée frée , Of that perchance it néedeth not For though no doubt in déede I sée , I shrinke at that I beare not , Yet in my hart this worde shall sinke , Untill the proofe may better bée I would it were not as I thinke , I would I thought it were not . FINIS .
An exellent Sonet , Wherin the Louer exclaymeth agaynst Detraction , beeing the principall cause of all his care . To the tune , when Cupid scaled first the Fort. PAsse forth in doulfull dumpes my verse , Thy Masters heauy haps vnfolde : His grisled gréefe eache hart well perce , Display his woes , feare not , bée bould Hid hole in heapes of heauinesse His dismale dayes are almost spent , For fate , which forgde this ficklenesse My youthly yeares with teares hath sprent . I lothe the lingring life I led : O wished death why stayest thy hand , Sith gladsome Ioyes away bée fled : And linkte I am in Dollors bande . In weltring waues my ship is tost My shattering sayles away bée shorne , My Anker from the Stearne is lost And Tacklings from the Maynyard storne . Thus driuen with euery gale of winde My weather beaten Barke doth sayle , Still hoping harbor once to finde Which may these passinge perrils quayle . But out alas , in vayne I hope Sith Billowes prowd , assault mée still And skill doth want with Seas to cope And licour salte my Kéele doth fill . Yet storme doth cease : but lo at hand A ship with warlike wightes addrest , Which seemes to bee some Pyrates band : With Powder and with Pellets prest . To sinke or spoyle my brused Barke Which dangers dread could not a daunt , And now the shot the ayre doth darke : And Captayne on the Deke him vaunt . Then Ignorance the ouerséear proude Cryes to Suspicion , spare no shot : And Enuy yelleth out aloude , Yeeld to Detraction this thy Boate : And as it is now Sea mens trade When might to coole the foe doth lacke , By vayling foretop signe I made That to their lee I mee did take . Then gathering winde to mee they make , And Treason first on borde doth come Then followes Fraud like wily Snake : And swift amongst them takes his rome . These binde mee Captiue , tane with band Of carkinge care and fell annoy , While vnder Hatches yet I stand Therby quight to abandon ioye . Then hoysting sayles they homeward hye And mee present vnto Disdayne , Who mee beheld with scorning eye The more for to encrease my payne . As Lady shee commaunded strayght That to Dispayre they mee conuay , And bid with skilfull heed hee wayght , That Truth bee bard from mee away . Madam ( quoth I ) let due desart Yet finde remorse for these my woes , Of pitty graunt some ease to smart Let Troth draw neare to quayle my foes . But all for nought I doo complayne For why the deafe can mone no noyse , No more can they which doo disdayne : But will in harte therat reioyce . Wherfore twixt life and death I stay Til time with daughter his drawe nye Which may these furious foes dismay : Or els in ruthfull plight I dye . FINIS
The Louer in bondage looketh for releasement and longeth for the releefe of his wedding day . WHen shall reliefe release my wo ? When shall desert , disdayne digest ? When shall my hap , hap to mée so ? That my poore hart may come too rest . When shall it so ? when shall it so ? When shall longe loue bée looked vpon ? When shall tried truth bée homeliest ? When shall hope haue that hope hangeth on ? That my poore hart may come to rest . When shall it so ? &c. When shall I sée shée séethe right ? When shall I heare shee heareth mée best ? When shall I féele , shée féeleth delight ? That my poore harte may come to rest . When shall it so . &c. When stinte all stormes that thus agréeue ? When stinte all stayes that wrong hath wrest ? When stinte all strifes right to reléeue ? That my poore hart may come to rest . When shall it so ? &c. When right shall sée right time to boste ? When right shall aright vnright oppresse ? When right shall raigne and rule the roste ? Then my poore harte shall come to rest . Then shall it so . &c. When shall I watch the time to sée ? Now shall I wish the time possest , Now shall I thinke each day yéeres thrée That my poore harte may come to rest . When shall it so ? &c. Now farewell harte , most smooth most smart , Now farewell hart with hart hartiest , And farewell harte , till hart in harte : By harty harte may come to rest . God graunt it so . &c. FINIS .
A fine and freendly Letter , of the Louer to his beloued . LIke as the Hauke is led by lure , to draw from trée to trée , So is my hart through force of loue , where euer my body bee The Hauke to pray doth double wing , her flight is fled in vayne I make my flight in waste of winde , my hope receyueth no gayne . Haukes that be high it hurtes to light , two flightes without reward My flight is two , and three againe , alas Mistresse regarde : The Hauke brought low , is soone made high , by féeding on warme foode Your mouthes breath settes mée aloft , there is nothing so good . Good Lady then strain forth the strings , whose tune may mée reuiue And with straung tongue do not prolong , my ioyes thus to depriue . Within your brest my hart is hid , your will and it is one , Regard my smart , the cure is yours , and losse , when I am gone . Thus all your owne , I recommend mee wholly to your grace , As seemeth you best for to reward , my plight and wofull case . Which plight if you do counterpaise , with ioyes , as doth belonge , My hart for ioy would tune accorde , to singe some pleasant songe . FINIS .
The Louers fata farewell at his death . AL wealth I must forsake , and pleasures eke forgo , My life to ende in wo and greefe , my desteny is so For where I had perfixt , with sute to win my ioy , I found I had right spéedy death , al welth for to distroy . Whose Image lo I am , though lyuing I appeare , Both body and soule be seperate , my heauen it is not here . My harte I haue bestowed , wheras it is not found Thou body then depart thou hence , why pleasurest thou the ground ? And Death draw thou mée neare , O Death my dearest fréend , Then with thy dart , shoot through my hart , my sorrows so to ende . And when that death did hears the thing that I did craue , Hée weighed mée , euen as I was , a man fit for the graue . Come follow mée sayth hée , thou man bée not agast , Hée that delighteth in earthly things , shal feele these panges at last All yée then that list to loue , this lesson learne by mée , Or yée begin , noate well , the ende , is payne and misery . FINIS .
The Louer complayneth of his Ladies vnconstancy to the Tune of I lothe that I did loue . YYou graues of grisly ghosts Your charge from coffins send From roring rout in Plutoes costs You Furies vp ascend . You trampling steades of Hell Come teare a wofull wight , Whose haples hap no tonge can tell Ne pen can well endight . I hate this lothsome life O Atropos draw nie , Untwist the thred of mortall strife Send death and let mée die . For Beauties taynted trope Hath made my cares assay , And ficklenes with her did cope : To fordge my whole decaye . My fayth alas I gaue To wight of Cressids kinde , For stedfast loue I loue did craue As curtesy doth binde . Shée likewise troth doth plight To bée a constant loue , And proue her self euen maugre spight A faythfull turtle Doue . But lo a womans minde Cloakt hole with déepe deceyt And driuen with euery gale of winde . To bite at fresher bayt For when bewitch shée had My minde that erst was frée , And that her cumly beauty bad My wounded hart agree . And fixt on Fancyes lore As world can witnesse beare , No other saynct I did adore : Or Idole any whear Ne will , no wo , or smart Could minde from purpose fet , But that I had a Iasons harte The golden fléese to get . Ne for my part I swere By all the Gods aboue , I neuer thought on other fere Or sought for other loue . In her the like consente I saw ful oft appear , If eyes be iudge of that it mente Or eares haue power to heare . Yet woordes bée turnd to winde A new found gest hath got The Fort , which once , to vndermine And win I planted shot Her fréend that ment her well Out of conceyt is quite , While other beares away the bell By hitting of the white . In this our wauering age So light are womens mindes . As Aspen leafe that stil doth rage Though aeole calme his windes . No place hath due desart No place hath constancy In eueri mood their mindes back start As dayly wée may sée . What paps did giue them food That weue sutch webs of wo What beast is of so cruell mood That countes his fréend for fo: Yet women doo reward With cares the louing wight They constancy no whit regard , In change is their delight . You gallant youths therfore In time beware by mée Take héed of womens subtil lore , Let mée example bée . FINIS .
The Louer , hauing sustayned ouermuch wrong at his Ladyes hande wisheth speedy death . TO féeble is the thread That holdeth mée in lyfe , That if it bee not succoured Short end shal stint the stryfe . For though the spindle ronne To draw the thread on length Alas therby what hold is wonne If it be weake of strength Or how can it haue ayde Since rigor is so rife , In her whose handes to cut the thread Gaue cruelly the knife . Whose edge of Enuy hard In Venus forge hath wrought , Wherby his deth is thus preferd Whose life offended nought . But sithe thy chéefe delite , My cheefe delightfull fo , Is with such wrong to work the spite With spéed come end this wo. And when my death hath done My duty at her will , A greater gréefe be not begonne To last therafter still . For after death , if strife Should still my life pursue , What then doth death but breed a life Of mone & mischéefe new ? Wherfore if néedes thou wilte Thy spindle spin no more , But that this thred with spoyle bee spilt Which led my life before . Prouide then for the nonce Prouide for mée the best , That I may dye at once From all thy mindes vnrest . And let not presente death Prefer an after paine , But let the paines pas with my breath And not reuiue againe . For thus by this you shall Two thinges at once fulfill , I shal be frée that haue bin thrall : And you shall haue your will . FINIS .
The Louer exhorteth his Lady to bee constant . To the Tune of Attend thee go play thee . NOt light of loue lady , Though fancy doo prick thée , Let constancy possesse thy hart : Well worthy of blamyng : They bee , and defaming , From plighted troth which backe do start : Deare dame : Then ficklenesse bannish , And folly extinguish , Bee skilfull in guiding , And stay thee from slidinge And stay thee . &c. The constant are praysed Their fame high is raysed Their worthynesse doth pearce the skye , The fickle are blamed : Their light loue shamed , Theyr foolishnesse doth make them dye : As well , Can Cressid beare witnesse , Fordge of her owne distresse , Whom Leprosy paynted And penury taynted : And penury . &c. Still Muses are busie To tell vs of Thisbe Whom stedfastnesse doth much commend And Camma is placed , To blame the defaced That light of loue doo sende . Phedra , Is checked most duly Because that vntruly Forst therto by loue light Shée slayeth Hippolite . Shée slayeth . &c. A spring of annoyance , And well of disturbance , New fanglenesse in loue hath bin : It killeth the Master , It poysons the taster , No worldly wight by it doth win . Therfore , Good lady bée constant , So shall you not bee shent , But woorthely praysed , As you haue deserued , As you haue , &c. FINIS .
The Louer wounded with his Ladies beauty craueth mercy . To the Tune of where is the life that late I led . IF pitty once may mooue thy hart , To rew a wofull wight ? If curtesy can force thy minde , To vew my doulfull plight ? Sith I cannot deuise To quench this raging fier , With trickling teares I craue of thee Attend to my desier : Whom Venus fethered boy Hath crasde with deadly dart , Sent from the rayes of those thy eyes Which bread my wo and smart . In vewing thee I tooke sutch ioy As wofull wight in rest Untill the blinded boy I felte Assault my captiue brest . And since that time alas Such pinching payne I taste That I am now remedilesse If mercy make not haste . For hid in deepe dispayre My teares are all my ioy , I burne , I fréese , I sinke , I swim My wealth is mine annoy . Lyke as the tender turtle Doue Doth wayle the losse of mate , In mourning wéed , so spend I tyme Lamentinge mine estate . The night renewes my cares When weary limmes would rest , And dreadfull dreames abandon slepe Which had my gréefes represt . I drench my couch with teares Which flow from gushing eyes , A thousand heapes of hidden thoughtes In minde I doo deuise . Full often times it dooth mée good To haunt and vew the place , Where I receiued my wound , alas By vewing of thy face . Full oft it ioyes my hart To kisse that clot of clay , From whence thou shot those louing lookes Which bred my whole decay . O blessed place I cry Though woorker of my payne , Render I craue most hartely To mee my loue agayne . Not wofull Monsier dom Dieg Or Priams noble sonne , Constrayned by loue did euer mone As I for thée haue donne . Sir Romeus annoy But trifle seemes to mine , Whose hap in winning of his loue Did clue of cares vntwine . My sorrowes haue no ende My hap no ioy can spie , The flowing Fountayne of my teares Beginneth to waxe drie . Let pitty then requyte my payne O woorker of my woe , Let mercy milde possesse thy harte Which art my freendly foe . Receiue the hart which heare I yeeld into her hand , Which made by force a breach in Fort Which I could not withstande . Thou hast in Ballance paysd My life and eke my death , Thy loyalty contaynes my ioy Disdayne will stop my breath . If constant loue may reape his hire And fayth may haue his due , Good hope I haue your gentill hart My grislie greefe will rue . And that at length I shall My hartes delight imbrace : When due desart by curtesie , Shall purchace mee thy grace . Untill which time , my deare Shall still increase my payne , In pensiue thoughtes and heauinesse Because I shall remayne . FINIS .
A Caueat to yongmen to shun the snares of Cupids crafty sleightes . IF euer wight had cause to mone or wayle with bitter teares , His wretched life and wofull plight that still in languish weares . Then haue I cause that late haue lodgde such loue within my hart , With gréefe , with payne , with pyning panges my body boyles in smart . O earth why doost not thou my wofull plight sustayne ? O surging Seas with swallowing gulfe release mee of this payne . For languishing loue with dolefull doomes hath layd my hart in brine , O wofull wretch , O wicked wight That so for loue doth pine . The Sonne that shines with golden beames and dries the dewie flowers , Doth cause mée wretch with blubbering eyes to gush forth extreame showers . The hermony of chirping birdes that ioyes with siluer songes , Eche lyuing wight , doth cause my cares to fill my hart with thronges . Eche gladsome ioy of mundaine glée That glads the worldly minde , Doth heape vp cares on carefull corps agaynst all course of kinde . And so eche thing that ought delight and rid the minde from pause , Contrariwise agaynst all right a thousand cares doth cause . For when that I in sugred sleepe , most swéetly should take rest , Then doo I wring my wofull handes and beate my dolefull brest . And if I chaunce on sleepe to fall , a thousand dreames I haue : And doo suppose I her embrace , whose want will cause my graue . And then with gladsome hart I ioy thus cleane depriued of wo : But ( oh alas ) when that I wake , I finde it nothing so . And then my sighes from sobbing harte doth reaue my brest in twayne , And teares that run from blubbered eyes doth more encrease my payne . And when I should sustayne my lyfe and féeble corps with foode , Unsauory séemes it vnto mee : eache thing should doo mee good Amidst the nipping frostes I broyle , in pearching heate I freese And thus agaynst all course of kinde : for loue my life I leese . Wo woorth the time that first I lodgde thy spoyling loue in harte , You yonge men al bée warnd by mée And shun blinde Cupids Darte FINIS .
The aged Louers noate , at length to learne to dye . WHy askest thou the cause Wherfore I am so sad Thou knowst when age on draws No creature can bee glad . And sith shée hath mée rested And threatned mee to die : Therfore I am sequestred All mirth for to denie . And now with feeble age The rest of all my dayes , My countenan e must be ful sage : Since that my life decayes . Like as the harte of Oke By time doth rot at last , Like time doth age prouoke With time my hart doth brast . Lo thus by course of time My youth is gone and past , And now the turne is mine Of bitter death to taste . And noate that I haue sayd The cause wherof and why , My youthfull partes be playde And I must learne to die . FINIS .
The desperate Louer exclaymeth his Ladyes cruelty and threatneth to kill himselfe . MY ioyful dayes bée past , My plasant yeres be gone , My life it may not last My graue and I am one . My mirth , and all is fled And I a man in woo , Desireth to bee dead My mischeefe to forgoe . I burne and am a colde I freese in middest of fire , I sée shée dooth with hold That most I doo desire . I sée that shée doth sée And yet shee wil be blinde , I see in healpinge mee Shée seeketh and wil not finde . I sée how shée doth wrye When I begin to mone , I see when I come nye How fayn shée would be gone . I see shee knoweth my harte And how I doo complayne , I see shee knoweth my smarte Shee seeth I doo not fayne . I see my helpe at hand I see my death also . I see where shee doth stand I see my cruell fo. I see , what would you more ? Shee would mee gladly kill , And shee shall see therfore That shee shall haue her will . I cannot liue by stones It is to harde a food , I would be dead at once to doo my Lady good . Shee shall haue her request And I will haue mine ende , Lo heere my blouddy brest To please her most vnkinde . FINIS .
The Louer beeing blinded with the faythlesse loue of his Lady is contented to remit her fault vpon promis of amendment . SInce that thou diddest mee loue When lust did thee prouoke , And that thou doost well proue : That I cannot reuoke . My fréendship fast , my loue nor my good will , Shew some reléefe , least in dispayre I spill . How well I was content alwayes to follow thée ? How well I did assent , Thy thrall aye for to bee Thy selfe can iudge to whom I doo appeale , By sentence lo , to yeeld mee wo or weale . But if thou mée forsake , As Cressid that forgot , True Troylus her make , And that thy hart is whot On him whom shame did force thée once his fayth to flie , I see no hope but that hee must yéeld forth himself to die . And though thou thinke that I , Am loth thes too forgoe , Yet shall I rather die Then liue and please my foe : But hindre him in loue , all others doth refrayne , Whose treason once did mée purchace thy due disdain FINIS .
A worthy comparison of Vertue agaynst all worldly pompe . WHen that I way with wit , and eke consider now , The fickle stay of her , that Fortunes whéele doth bow And turne euen at her will , such luck , loe , as shee list , No thread so surely spenne , but that shee may vntwist . I can but aye lament , and wayle the lacke of them , That in her holde doo trust , weighing they are but men . For if I were a Lorde , and come of high degree , And had all thing at will , as best contented mee : My Prince therwith well pleased , that nothing might offend , And all my deedes so done , that eche man might commend . My parent of great state , and eke of worthy fame , That worldly men did wish , the honor of his name : My friends and mine allyes so worthy in eche presse , That I néede beare no wrong , that I could not redresse . Of courage and of strength , so doughty of my hand , That Ladyes might mée loue , that dwell in forrayn land . And enemyes might mee dread , for feare of ouerthrow , And that all this were true , eche worldly wight did know . Yet were I but a man , and mortall in this earth , For death doth not accept , the worship of my byrth : Since so I holde it best , that eche man should contend , So to directe himselfe , that after this liues ende , Yet vertue might remayne , that soundes a Trompet , loe , A comfort to a fréend , a wound vnto a foe . As some to simple turne from sage , And ouerthrow with euery winde , Some eke correct with rigorous rage Whom wealth could neuer foord good minde , Hath wonne in prison such a feelde , As liberty could neuer yeelde . FINIS . Virtute nulla possessio maior .
Of a happy wished time . EChe thing must haue a time , and tyme doth try mens troth , And troth deserues a special trust , on trust great frenship groth : And freendship is full fast , where faythfulnesse is found And faythfull thinges be ful of fruicte , and fruitful things be sound The sound is good in proofe , and proofe is Prince of prayse , And woorthy prayse is such a pearle , as lightly not decayes . All this doth time bring forth , which time I must abide , How should I boldely credit craue ? till time my truth haue tried . And as a time I found , to fall in Fancies frame , So doo I wish an happy time , at large to shew the same . If Fortune aunswer hope , and hope may haue her hire , Then shall my hart possesse in peace , the time that I desire . FINIS .
The Louer perswadeth him selfe to pacience agaynst Enuie and slanderous tongues . IF only sight suffise , my hart to loose or binde , What cause haue I to mooue debate , wherby no peace I finde ? If that my restlesse will , by payne doth still renue , What force haue I ? but shee consent , my fo for to subdue ? To yeeld and suffer then , I thinke it for the best , And by desert as time shall serue , to purchase quiet rest . Let ielous enuy lowre with browes , and visage bent , I know the worst , no shameles tongue , shall alter myne intent . The Dice of Loue are throwen , god speede the doubtfull chaunce Misdeeme who lyst , so shee at last , my seruice will aduaunce . To aske and to obtayne , that Fortune were so swifte , Sith trauaill is the ready way , vnto eche noble gyfte . And feeble is the ioy , that lightly is begonne , As tender Flare can beare no stresse , before that it bee sponne . Wherfore with sad aduice , in hope my harte shall dwell , And all the tale that I confesse , in silence will I tell Unto her selfe alone , whose fauour I require , None els shall know her name for mee , to constre my desire . FINIS .
The Louer greeuously complayneth agaynst the vniust dealing of his Lady beloued . SInce thou vniust , hast caught a lust , To plough in barrayne ground : Who long thée loue , hee shall thee proue , Mutch better lost then found . As brickle clay , in Winters day , That in the frost is wrought , So doo I finde , thy double minde , Mutch better solde then bought . It is as éefe , a broken Syue , Should holde the dropping rayne : As for to binde , thy chaunged minde , That nought can doo but fayne . So may I say , both night and day , Cursing the time and place : Where I profest , to loue thee best , Whose troth I finde so scarce . Whose lyinge wordes , and faigned bourdes , Did mee so far enchayne : When thou didst flyt , by chaunged wit , That I could not refraine . But of my hart , to ease the smart , The best redresse I know : Is to vntwinde , my constant minde , And let sutch fansies goe . For thoughe I serue , vntill I sterue , I sée none other boote Such doublenesse , thy hart doth presse , And croppes it by the roote . Yet will I pray , euen as I may , That Cupid will requite , Thy froward harte , with such a smart , As I haue by thy spite . For to bée fed , with wake a bed , And fast at boorde among : Till thou confesse , ah pittilesse , That thou hast doone mee wrong . On bush and brier , may it appeare , Wherby most men doo pas , Thy faygned fayth , how nere my death , It hath mée brought alas . That they vncaught , may once bée taught , By reason to refrayne : Their crafty wiles , and subtill smiles : That so in loue can fayne . A due vniust , sith that I must , Of force declare thée so , The fault is thine , the payne is mine : And thus I let thée go . FINIS .
The Louer in great distresse comforteth himselfe with hope . O Heauy hart whose harmes be hid , Thy healpe is hurte , thy hap is hard , If thou shouldest brast , as God forbid : Then should I dye without reward . Hope well to haue , hate not swéet thought , Ofte cruell stormes faire calmes haue brought : After sharp showres , the sunne shyneth faire , Hope commeth likewise after dispayre . In hope a Kinge doth go to warre , In hope the Louer lyues full longe , In hope the Marchaunt sayles full farre , In hope most men doo suffer wronge : In hope the Ploughman soweth much séede , Thus hope helpes thousands in their néede . Then faynt not hart amonge the rest , What euer chaunce hope thou the best . Though wit biddes will to blowe retrayte , Wyll cannot worke as wit would wish When that the Roche doth taste the bayte : To late to warne the hungry fishe . When Cities bren of firy flame , Great Ryuers scarce will quenche the same . If Will and Fantasie bée agréed To late for Wyt to bid take heede . FINIS .
In the commendacion of faythfull loue . THe faithful cannot flye , nor wander to nor fro , Fayth only they holde them bye , though that the fickle go . A Piller of more force , then Marble layd with hand , With Pickaxe may deuorce , and lay it flat on land . Th' other so deuine , that no arte can remoue , Once layd cannot decline , th' only Piller loue , FINIS .
The Louer wisheth himselfe an Harte in the Foreste , ( as Acteon was ) for his Ladyes sake . I Would I were Acteon , whom Diana did disguise , To walke the woods vnknown , wheras my lady lies : A hart of pleasant hew , I wish that I were so , So that my Lady knew , alone mée , and no mo . To follow thicke and plaine , by hill and dale alow , To drinke the water fayne , and féede mée with the sloe : I would not feare the frost , to lye vpon the ground , Delight should quite the cost , what payne so that I found . The shaling nuts and mast , that falleth from the trée , Should serue for my repast , might I my Lady sée : Sometime that I might say , when I saw her alone , Beholde thy slaue alone , that walkes these woods vnknowen . FINIS .
An Epytaph vpon the death of Arthur Fletchar of Bangor Gent. YE grisly ghostes which walke below in black Cocistus Lakes , Mi●s Datis dennes , Erebus Dames , with heare of vgly Snakes Medusa with thy monstrous mates , assist mée now a while , In dyre wamenting verse to shew , and drierie dolefull stile . The fayre vntimely fatall ende of Fletcher , now by death , Unto the Ayre his soule with Ioue , resignde his latest breath : Whose life full doe wee must commend , as it deserues the same , And conuersation to eche one , did seldome meryt blame . A faythfull freend to eche hee was , to none an oppen foe , Unto his Prince a subiect true , till fates had lodgd him loe . His actes did tend to no mans harmes , no Parasite to prayse , For greedy gayne but still the troth , mayntaynd at all assayes . His time hée spent in Uertues lore , as séemd his state full wel , By serious study what hée could , hée sought for to excel . But what of al this same ? the fates no wight in time wyll spare , When gastly death hath pearst in earth , them must our bodyes weare In age aswell in youthes , in youthes aswell in age , No certayne time wée haue to bide , when death with vs wil wage . No thing can still abide , but comes to nought in ende , The craggy Rocks the sturdiest okes : starke rotten once is rend . And so hath Fletcher , now to death payd his due , What hée is now wée must bée all , his Funerall then vew . FINIS .
A Lady writeth vnto her Louer wherin shee most earnestly chargeth him with Ingratitude . O Wretched wight whom hensfoorth may I trust All men both falce and fell I will them painte , If thou ( vnkinde ) bée cruell and vniust Whom I alwayes so faythfull held and quainte : What cruelty ? what trustles treasons iust ? Was euer hard by tragicall complaint ? But lesse then this , my merit if I may , And thy desart in equall ballance lay . Wherfore ( vnkinde ) since that on liue ? A worthier wight of prowes ne beauty , Ne that by much to thee that doth ariue , In cumly porte ne genorositie . Why doost thou not twéene these thy vertues striue , It may bee sayd thou hast serbillitie : Then say that who of fayth is holden stable : There may to him none els bée comparable . For write ye not that vertues haue no grace Wheras this trust and stablenesse doth want , As other things , though much of cumly face : Cannot be seene , where gladsome light is skant . A mayd to false for thée , an easie case , Whose Idol , Lord & God thou werst most puisant Whom with thy wordes it easly had bin donne , To make beleue both colde and darke the sonne . Cruell , what offence hast thou for to bewayle , The killing of thy loue if thou not repent ? If yee accompte so light of fayth to fayle : What other sinne can make thy harte lament ? How treate you foes , if mée ye doo assayle ? That loues thée so , with such cruell torment : The heauens iustles , I will say to bée : In case they shew the iust reuenge of mée . If of offences all , that monstrous vice Ingratitude , do most a man offend , And if for that , an Angell of great price , Was forced to Hell , from heauen to dissend : If great offence , great chastisment entice When to reforme , the hart doth not him bend , Take héed sharp skourge that God on thée not send Thou art to mee vnkinde , and doost not mend . If these also , besides some other spot I haue ( vnkinde ) wherof thée to accuse , That thou my hart with holdst , I meane it not , I speake of thée that madest thée myne by lot , And robbest mée since , against reason which I must Restore ( vnkinde ) for well thou wottest it playne , They shal be damned that others goods retaine . Unkinde , thou hast forsaken mée , but I will Not will thee willingly for none assayes Yet this hard hap , and trouble for to flie , I can and will , ende these my wofull dayes : In onely way , in thy disgrace to dye , For if the Gods had graunted by their payes My death , geuen then , when I stoode in thy grace , No wight had dyed in halfe so happy a case . FINIS .
The Louer vnto his Lady beloued , of her disdaynfulnesse toward him . FOr beauties sake though loue doth dread thy might , And Venus thinks , by sute to proue thy dame : Though Pallas striues , by hope of equall right , For Wisdoms watch , as daughter thée to claime . Though Mercury would entitled be thy Syre , For thy sweet talke , so sweetly blazed forth : Though all the Gods , do burne in like desire , Thy graces rare , in heauen so much worth : Yet lo , thy proofe I know , the trusly waight , Of Tygars milke , thou fostred wert from molde , And Cipres Well with dainful chaung of fraight . Gaue thee to drinke infected poyson colde . But yet beware , least loue renew in thee , The dreadfull flame Narcissus whylom felt , With eger moode , and sight to feede thine eye . Of thine owne , from others flame to swell : For loue doth loue with hot reuenge to wreake , The ruthles Iron hart , that will not breake . FINIS .
The Louer in the prayse of his beloued and comparison of her beauty . NOt shée for whom prowde Troy did fall and burne , The Greekes eke slaine , that bluddy race did runne : Nor shée for spight that did Acteon turne , Into an Hart her beauty coye did shunne : Nor shée whose blud vpon Achilles Tombe , Whose face would tame a Tygars harte : Nor shée that wan by wise of Paris dome . Th' apple of Golde for Beauty to her parte : Nor shee whose eyes did pearce true Troylus brest , And made him yeeld , that knew in loue no law , Might bee compared to the fayrest and the best , Whom Nature made to kéepe the rest in awe : For Beauties sake , sent downe from Ioue aboue , Thrise happy is hée , that can attayne her loue . FINIS .
In the prayse of a beautifull and vertuous Virgin , whose name begins with M. BEhold you Dames the raigne in fames , whose lookes mens harts do leade And triumph in the spoyle of those , vpon whose brests you trede . A myrt or make of M , whose molde , Dame Nature in disdayne , To please her self , & spight her foes , in beauty raysd to raigne : Whose sunny beames & starry eyes , presents a heauenlyke face , And shewes the world a wonderous worke , sutch are her giftes of grace In forhed , feature beareth , brunt in face doth fauor guyde , In lookes is life , in shape is shame , in cheekes doth coulor hyde : In boddy seemelynesse doth shew , in wordes doth wisdome shade , All partes of her doth prayse deserue , in temprance is her trade . In humble porte is honor plaste , in face is maydens smyles Her life is grafte with Golden giftes , her deedes deuoyd of gyles . And as the Star to Marriners , is guyde vnto the Port , So is this M , a heauenly ioy , to Louers that resort : Who run and rome with inward wounds , & folded armes acrosse , And hide their harms with clokes of care , & féed their hope with losse . Her lookes doth lift aboue the skyes , her frowns to Hel doth throw All sues to her , shée séekes on none , that daily proofe doth show : Wherfore her saying late set forth , shée burnt and could not flée , Though ment in prayse , yet far amis , I take it written bée . Shée is none such as if shée would , that any would disdayne : But for the smartes of others gréefes , of pitty shee did playne , As one most lothe of any lyfe , for loue of her bee loste , Or that with blud or cruell deedes , men write her beauties boste : For mercy is in M , her brest , and modest is her life , A courtuous mayd , and like to prooue , a constant worthy wife . FINIS .
The Louer deceyued by his Ladyes vnconstancy , writeth vnto her as foloweth . THe heat is past that did mee fret , The fier is out that nature wrought The plantes of youth that I did set , Are dry and dead within my thought The Frost hath slayne the kindly sap , That kept the hart in liuely state : The sodayne storme and thunder clap : Hath turned loue , to mortall hate . The myst is gon that bleard mine eyes , The lowring cloudes I see appeare , Though that the blinde eate many flyes , I would you knew , my sight is cleare : Your sweete deceyuing flattryng face Did make mee thinke that you were white : I muse how you had such a grace : To séeme a Hauke , and bée a kyte . Where precious ware is to be solde , They shall it haue , that giueth most : All things wée see , are woon with Golde , Few things is had , where is no cost . And so it fareth now by mée , Because I preace to giue no gyftes : Shee takes my sute vnthankfully , And driues mée of with many dryftes . Is this th' end of all my sute , For my good will , to haue a skorne ? Is this of all my paynes the frute , To haue the chafte in steade of corne ? Let them that lyst , posses such drosse , For I deserue a better gayne : Yet had I rather leaue with losse , Then serue and sue , and all in vayne . FINIS .
A true description of Loue . ASke what loue is ? it is a passion , Begun with rest , and pampred vp in play : Planted on sight , and nourished day by day , With talke at large , for hope to graze vpon , It is a short ioy , long sought , and soone gon : An endles maze , wherin our willes doo stray : A gylefull gaine , repentance is the pay . A great fier bred of small occasion , A plague to make , our fraylty to vs knowen , Where wée therby , are subiecte to their lay : Whose fraylty ought , to leaue vntill our stay , In case our selues , this custome had not knowen . Of hope and health , such creatures for to pray , Whose glory resteth chéefly on denaye . FINIS .
The Louer to his beloued , by the name of fayre , and false . O Cruell hart with falsehood infecte , of force I must complayne , Whose poyson hid , I may detect , as cause doth mée constrayn : Thy name I shryne within my brest , thy déedes though I doo tell , No minde of malice I protest , thy selfe doth know it well . If thy deserts then bids mée write , I cannot well reuoke it , I shall not spare to shew thy spite , I will no longer cloake it : As Troylus truth shall bée my shéeld , to kepe my pen from blame , So Cressids crafte shall kepe the féeld , for to resound thy shame . Vlisses wife shall mate the sore , whose wishly troth doth shine , Well Fayre and False , I can no more , thou art of Helens lyne : And daughter to Diana eke , with pale and deadly cheare , Whose often chaunge I may well like , two moonthes within the yeare . FINIS .
The Louer describeth his paynfull plight , and requireth speedy redresse , or present death . THe slaue of seruile sort , that borne is bond by kinde , Doth not remayne in hope , with such vnquiet minde : Ne tossed crasid Ship , with yrksome surging seas , So gréedely the quiet Port , doth thirst to ride at ease . As I thy short returne , with wishing vowes require , In hope that of my hatefull harmes , the date will then expire : But time with stealing steps , and driery dayes doth driue , And thou remaynst then bound to come , if that thou bée aliue . O cruell Tygars whelpe , who had thy hand in holde ? When y with flattering pen thou wrotst , thy help at hand behold ? Beleeue it to bee true , I come without delay , A foole and silly simple soule , yet doost thou still betray : Whose mooueles loue and trust , doth reason far surmount , Whom Cupids trumpe , to fatall death hath sommond to accompt My fayth and former life : fed with such frendly fier , Haue not of thee by iust reward , deserued such falts hyer : I promisse thee not mine , but thy case I bewayle , What infamy may greater bee , then of thy fayth to fayle ? How ofte with humble sute ? haue I besought the sonne , That hee would spur his Coursers fearce , their race more swifte to ronne ? To th' end with quicker speed , might come the promised day , The day which I with louing lookes , and weary will did pray . But thou art sure disposde to glory in my death , Wherfore to feede thy fancy fond , loe , here I ende my breath . I can not sighe nor sob , away by playnt I pine : I see my fatall fainting file , ye Sisters doo vntwine , The Feriman I finde , prest at the Riuer side : To take mee in his restles Boate , therin with him to ride . And yet although I sterue , through thy dispitous fault : Yet craue I not in my reuenge , that harme should thee assault , But rather that thy fame , eternally may shine : And that eche to thine auayle , aboundantly encline . That eche thine enterprise , hath luckye lot and chaunce , And stable fortune , thine estate , from day to day aduaunce , That Sun , that Moone , that starres , and eke the plannets all , The fier , the water , and the earth , may fréendly to thée fal . That many quiet yeres , thou number may with rest : Uoyd of all annoyes and gréeues , as may content thee best , And if that foraine loue , torment and vexe thy harte : God yeeld thy weary wanting wish , and swagement of thy smart . With froward flearing face , at mee if Fortune frowne , Thou doost reioyce and I not so , but ioy thy good renowne : And if I thée offend , for that I doo thée loue , Forgiue it mée : for force it is , I can it not remoue . For I in secret sort , these lines to thée did I write , My weakned wearied hand hensforth , shall sease for to endyte : That letters to receiue from mée , thou néede not muse : The messenger that next of all , of mée shal bring the newes . Dissolued from the corps , shal be my dolefull spright : That first ( vnsheathd ) shal passe to thée , when hée hath vewd thy sight , Contented hee shall go vnto the heauens aboue , In case that ioyed rested place , may gayne it any loue . And now for that my death , thy name may spot and stayne : If that the flying fame therof , to others eares attayne , I will not it were red , or knowen by other wayes : That thou art only cause , I thus in ruthe doo ende my dayes . Wherfore this Letter red , condemne it to the flame : And if thou doo thy honnor forse , I know thou wilt thesame , And if in lingring time , vnwares they chaunce to come : Wherin the entrayles of the earth , shall hap to bee my tombe . At least yet graunt mee this , it is a small request : O happy wythered pyned corps , God send thy soule good rest . FINIS .
The Lady beloued , assureth her Louer to bee his owne , and not to change , while life doth last . DEare hart as earst I was , so will I stil remayne , Till I am dead , and more if more may bee : Howsoeuer loue do yeeld mee ioy or payne , Or Fortune lyst to smyle or frowne on mee No chaunging chaunce my fast fayth may constrayne , No more then Waues , or beating of the Sea May stir the stedfast rocke , that will not ply , For fayre nor fowle one inche , no more will I. A file or knife of lead , shall sooner carue The Diamant vnto what forme you will : Ere Fortunes dynte , compell mee for to swarue , Or the ire of Loue , to breake my constant will , Yée sooner shall , the law of nature starue , When Ryuers take their course agaynst the hill , Ere sodayne hap , for better or for worse , Disturbe my thoughts , to take a better course . With hartes consent , my loue you doo possesse , A surer holde may chaunce , then many wéene : The fayth by othe , that subiectes doo confesse , To their new prince , is seldome stronger séene : No fyrmer state than that , which loue doth sure expresse , Of Kinge , ne Keyser hitherto hath béen : So that you néede not fortifie your hould , With Towre or Ditch , least others win it should . For though you set , no Souldiers for defence , For all assaults , this one may yet suffise : It is not goods can alter my pretence , No gentle hart , yéeldes to so vile a prise . Though crowne and septier , few would dispise , Not beauty méete , to moue a wauering minde , Yet more then yours , I wot not where to finde . And feare you not , what forme my hart once tooke , Least any new print , shall the same deface : So deepe therin , ingraued is your looke , As neuer may bée wyped from that place : My hart like Waxe , so lightly did not brooke , More then one stroke , ere Cupid brought to passe One splint of skale , therof to take away , The best reserued , your Image to pourtray . That like as what stone , it selfe best desendeth , And hardiest is with toole to bee graue : Doth sooner breake in péeces , then it bendeth , To looze the stampe , afore my hand it gaue : Euen so the nature , of my hart contendeth , As hard is this , as any stone you haue : Though forse do breake it , vnto péeces small , Those péeces somewhat , you resemble shall . FINIS .
In the prayse of the rare beauty , and manifolde vertues of Mistres D. as followeth . IF Chawcer yet did lyue , whose English tongue did passe , Who sucked dry Pernassus spring , and taste the Iuice there was : If Surrey had not scalde , the height of Ioue his Throne , Unto whose head a pillow softe , became Mount Helycon : They with their Muses could , not haue pronounst the fame , Of D. faire Dame , lo , a staming stock , the chéefe of natures frame . They would but haue eclipsed , her beauties golden blast , Nor Ouid yet of Poets Prince , whose wits all others past . Olde Nestor with his tongue , and flowing dew so sweete , Would rather haue berefte her right , then pend her praises méete In Helens heauenly face , whose grace the Greekes bought deare , For whose defence prowd Troy did fal , such forme did not appeare . In Hectors sister loe : who Pirhus Father rapte , Did not abound sutch beauty bright , as now to D , hath hapt : For D , doth passe as far , Dame Venus with her prise , As Venus did the other two , by doome of Paris wise . If shée had present béen , within the walles of Ide , They would not had such discord then , nor Paris iudgd that side . In minde all voyd of doubt , they straight agréed would , That D , should of good right , the Aple haue of Golde . Whom as I must beleeue , that nature did create , To rob the hartes of noble Kings , and courage stoute to mate : Her forhead seemely spaste , wherin doo shine her eyes , No whit vnlike to starres by night , or beame when Phebus ryse . Her haire that shines like golde , her shoulders couer whight . To which no snow on Mountayne highe , may be compared right : Her mouth well compast small , in smylings vtters forth A treasure riche of Orient Pearle , therto no Golde more worth , I feare much Promethius fall , dare no further wade , Whom loue embraced with the shape , that hee so finely made : Yet this I dare presume , one thought of her may draw , A harte of Iron , and it subdue , vnto blinde Cupids law . I sorrow to recite , the bitter teares that flow : Within the eyes of other Dames , that beauty know . I weepe to wayle in minde , the burning slights that flame : In troubled hartes of Natures case in spreading of her fame , They all doo curse themselues , of Nature makes complaynt , That shee on them had smal regard , that did her thus depaynt . Of her doth nobles spring , and sutors sue for grace , And Fountaines eke of sugred speech , where voice can take no place , Here Pallas should haue lost her prayse , for wisdome great , Who gendred was of Ioue his braines , wher wisdom toke his seat . Here wise Vlisses wyfe , whose chastnesse brued her fame : Should matched bee , ye mated eke , in ventring of thesame . Prowde Tarquin with his force , which Lucresse did defile : Could not haue spoyled faire D. so , with neither sound nor gyle . This Dame I thinke bee such , that heauen can vndermine , And lifte the earth vnto the skyes , eche stone a star to shine . If passed time ( alas ) might now returne agayne , And all the wittes that euer was , would herein take the payne : They could not at the ful , no due giftes expresse , A wight vnfit to bée in earth , in heauen no such goddesse . Whose name shall floorish still , though Atropos with spight : In running from her deuelish Den , bereaue vs of this light , Though Thesiphon do cut , her time of life a way : Her cankred Swoord cannot assayle , her fame for to decay . For wee in these our dayes , our selues may better quight : To geue to her the cheefest prayse , then Paris which did right . Lesse hatred cannot want , though power for to reuenge : Our stately house as they did Troy , their force doth faile to senge . Their might if it were like , these verses wee should rew , With no lesse payne then Ouid did , whose greefe by Muses grew . FINIS .
Prety parables , and Prouerbes of Loue . I Spake when I ment not , in spéeding to gayne , I sought , when I sped not , but trauaild in vayne : I found where I feard not , would writh with the wind , I loste where I lou'd not , nor forsid to finde . Nothing in which , truth is not trustie , But double is such , and beauty but rustie : I coole with the colde , I leue that I like not , I know not the olde , that rotteth and ripes not . I sauor no such , that fondly doth fauor , I care not to much , for such sory sauor : I taste or I try , in parte or in all , I care not a flye , the losse is but small . I labor at leasure , I pricke without payne , In vsing for pleasure , beates in my brayne : I spare not in byrding , to beat well the bush , Nor leaue not in stryking , as long as they rush . I try ere I trust , nought wasting but winde , Before I finde iust , they know not my minde : I iet not with Geminie , nor tarry not with Tawre In bluttring who bleares mée ? I leaue them with Law●● . For fier who fyndeth , in burning to bight , The wise man hée warneth , to leape from the light : For séeing the wéede , and losing from bandes , The plowing in Sea , and sowing in Sandes . FINIS .
Of patience . A Soueraygne salue there is for eche disease : The chéefe reuenge for cruell ire Is pacience , the cheefe and present ease , For to delay eche yll desire .
Of lawlesse lust . AN euerlasting bondage doth hée choose , That can not tell a litle how to vse : Hée scant ynough for shame puruayes , That all alone to lust obayes .
Of will , and reason . I Count this conquest great , That can by reasons skill : Subdue affectious heate , And vanquish wanton will .
Of three things to be shunned . THrée thinges , who seekes for prayse , must flye , To please the taste with wine Is one : another , for to lye Full softe on fethers fine . The thirde and hardest for to shunne , And chéefest to eschew , Is lickerous lust , which once begun , Repentance doth ensue .
Of beauty , and chastity . CHastity a vertue rare , Is seldome knowen to run her race : Where cumly shape and beauty faire , Are séene to haue a byding place .
Of wisdome . WHo séeketh the renowne to haue , And eke the prayse of Uertues name : Of Wisdome rare hée ought to craue , With gladsome will to worke the same .
Of a pure conscience . A Conscience pure withouten spot , That knoweth it selfe for to bée frée : Of slaunders lothsome reketh not , A brazen wall full well may bee .
Of frendship founde by chaunce . THe frendship found by chaunce is such , As often chaunce is séene to chaunge : And therfore trust it not to much , Ne make therof a gaine to straunge : For proofe hath taught by hap is had , Sometime as well the good as bad .
Of good will got by due desert . BUt I suppose the same good will , That once by good desart is got : That fancy findes by reasons skill , And time shall try withouten spot , Is such as harde is to bée gayned , And woorthy got to bée retayned .
Of flatterers and faythfull friendes . THe finest tongue can tel the smoothest tale , The hottest fiers haue ofte the highest smoke : The hardiest knightes the soonest will assaile , The strongest armes can giue the sturdest stroke The wysest men be thought of greatest skill , And poorest fréendes be found of most goodwill .
Of a vertuous , life , age , and death . GOd wot my fréend our life full soone decayes , And vertue voydes no wrinkels from the face : Approching age by no entreatie stayes , And death vntamed , will graunt no man grace . FINIS .
A proper Posie for a Handkercher . Fancy is fearce , Desire is bolde , Will is wilfull , but Reason is colde .
The Louer beeing ouermuch weryed with seruile lyfe , compareth it to a Laborinth . WIth spéedy winges , my fethered woes pursues , My wretched life , made olde by weary dayes : But as the fire of Ethna stil renues , And bréedes as much , by flame as it decayes : My heauy cares , that once I thought would ende mee , Prolongs my life , the more mishap to lende mée . Oh haples will , with such vnwary eyes , About mishap that hast thy selfe bewrethed : Thy trust of weale , my wailfull proofe denyes , To wofull state wherby I am bequethed : And into such a Laborinth betake , As Dedalus for Minotaure did make . With helples search , wheras it were assinde , Without reuoke , I tread these endles Mayes : Where more I walke , the more my selfe I winde . Without a guyde , in Torments tyring wayes : In hope I dread , where to and fro I rome , By death ne life , and findes no better home . But sithe I sée , that sorrow cannot ende , These haples howres , the liues of my mischance : And that my hope , can nought a whit amend , My bitter dayes , nor better hap aduance : I shall shake of , both doubtfull hope and dréede , And so bee pleased , as God is best agréede . FINIS .
How to choose a faythfull freende . THough that my yeares , full far doo stande aloofe , From counsell sage , or Wisdomes good aduice : What I doo know by soone repenting proofe , I shall you tell , and learne if you be wise . From fined wits , that telles the smoothest tale , Beware , their tongues doo flatter oft a wry : A modest loke shall well set forth your sale , Trust not to much , before somewhat you try : So guyde your selfe in worde , and eke in deede , As bad and good may prayse your sober name : Assay your fréend , before your greatest neede , And to conclude , when I may doo that same , That may you please , and best content your minde , Assure your selfe , a faythfull freend to finde . FINIS .
The Louer beeing accused of suspicion of flattery , pleadeth not gyltie , and yet is wrongfully condemned . TO séeme for to reuenge , eche wrong in hastie wise , By proofe wée sée of gyltlesse men , it hath not bin the guise : In slaunders lothsome brute , when they condemned bee , With rageles moodes they suffer wronge , when truth shall try them frée : These are the pacient panges , that pas within the brest Of those that feele their case by mine , where wrong hath right opprest : I know how by suspect , I haue been iudged away , And graunted gyltie in the thing , that clearly I denye . My fayth may mee defende , if I might leuid bee , God iudge mee so , as from that gylte I know mee to bee free : I wrought but for my freend , the greefe was all mine owne , As if the troth were truely tryde , by prooft it might be knowne . Yet are there such that say , they can my meaning deeme , Without respect to this olde troth : things proue not as they seeme : Wherby it may befall , in iudgment to bee quicke , To make them be suspecte therwith , that néedeth not to kicke : Yet in resisting wrong , I would not haue it thought , I doo accuse as though I knew , by whom it may be wrought : If any such there bée , that here withall be vext , It were their vertue to beware , and deeme mee better nexte . FINIS .
The Louer describeth the daungerous state of Ambition . BEholde these high and mighty men , Their chaunging state and tell mee then : Where they or wee , best dayes doo see , Though wee seeme not and they to bee In wealth . Their pleasant course straung traces hath , On tops of trees that groundles path : Full waueringly . For bee it calme they tread not fast , Blow roughe , blow soft , all helpe is past : Appearingly . With vs , ye see , it is not so , That clime not vp , but kepe below : In calmes our course is faire and playne , Huge hilles defendes from stormy rayne : For why ? The raging winde and stormy shower , On mountaynes high it hath most power Naturally . But wee that in lowe valleis lye , Beholde may such as wander hye : So slydingly : Then what is hee that will aspire , To heape such woe to please desire : That may in wealth by staying still , Spend well his dayes and fly from yll : To good . By hauing his recourse to God To loue his lawes to feare his rod : Unfaynedly . To doo that in his worde wee finde , To helpe the poore , the sicke , the blinde : Accordingly . But though gaynsayd this can not bée , Deeme men by deedes , and yee shall see : That these low valleies they can not bide , But vp will clyme , though downe they slyde : Agayne . The poore the riche mans place doth craue , The riche would fayne hyer places haue : Ambiciously . The Squyre , the Knight , a Lorde would bee , The Lorde , the Erle would hyer then hee : Full dangerously . When these attayne to their desire , Then meaner men are set on fire : To haue the roomes which they in were , So that ye see all times some there : In hart . When one is gon , another is come , The third catching the secondes roome : Full speedely . Thus clyming one to others tayle , The bowes either breake , or footing fayle : Full totteringly . For when the top they haue attaynd , And got is all they would haue gaynd : Then downe they come wit sodayne fall , In doubtfull case of life and all . And thus . Ambition reapeth worthy hyre , Because hée would such sporte aspyre Unequally . And there his bragge is layd full low , That thought on hie , himself to show . Deseruedly . FINIS .
The paynfull plight of a Louer remayning in doubtfull hope of his Ladyes fauour . THe bitter swéete , that straynes my yéelded harte , The carelesse count , which doth the same imbrace : The doubtfull hope , to reape my due dezart , The pensiue pathe , that guides my restles race : Are at such war , within my wounded brest , As doth bereaue , my ioy and eke my rest . My gréedy will , which seekes the golden gayne , My luckles lot , doth alwayes take in worth : My matched minde , that dreades my sutes in vayne , My pittious playnt , doth helpe for to set forth : So that betwixt , two waues of raging Seas , I driue my dayes , in troubles and disease· My wofull eyes , doo take their chéefe delight , To feede their fill , vpon their pleasant maze : My hidden harmes , that grow in mee by sight , With pyning panges , doo driue mee from the gaze : And to my hap , I reape none other hire , But burne my selfe , and I to blow the fire . FINIS .
The Louer recounteth his faythfull diligence towarde his beloued , with the rewardes that hee reapeth therof . MY fancy féedes , vpon the sugred gaule , My witlesse will , vnwillingly workes my woe : My carefull choyse , doth choose to kéepe mee thraule , My franticke folly , fawns vpon my foe : My lust alluers , my lickering lyppes to taste , The bayte wherin , the subtill hooke is plaste . My hungry hope , doth heape my heauy hap , My sundry sutes , procure my more disdayne : My steadfast steppes , yet slyde into the trap , My tryed truth , entangleth mée in trayne : I spye the snare , and will not backward go , My reason yéeldes , and yet sayth euer , no. In pleasant plat , I tread vpon the snake . My flamyng thirst , I quench with venomd Wine : In dayntie dish , I doo the poyson take , My hunger biddes mée , rather eate then pine : I sow , I set , yet fruit , ne flowre I finde , I pricke my hand , yet leaue the Rose behinde . FINIS .
A Letter written by a yonge gentilwoman and sent to her husband vnawares ( by a freend of hers ) into Italy . IMagine when these blurred lines , thus scribled out of frame , Shall come before thy careles eyes , for thée to read the same : To bee through no default of pen , or els through prowd disdayne , But only through surpassing greefe , which did the Author payne Whose quiuring hand could haue no stay , this carful bil to write Through flushing teares distilling fast , whilst shee did it indite : Which teares perhaps may haue some force ( if thou no tigre bée , And mollifie thy stony hart , to haue remorse on mée . Ah periurde wight reclaime thy selfe , and saue thy louing mate , Whom thou hast left beclogged now , in most vnhappy state : ( Ay mee poore wench ) what luckles star ? what frowning god aboue What hellish hag ? what furious fate hath changd our former loue ? Are wée debard our wonted ioyes ? shall wée no more embrace ? Wilt thou my deare in country strang , ensue Eneas race : Italians send my louer home , hée is no Germayne borne , Unles ye welcome him because hée leaues mée thus forlorne . As earst ye did Anchises sonne , the founder of your soyle , Who falsely fled from Carthage Quéene , reléeuer of his toyle : Oh send him to Bryttannia Coastes , vnto his trusty féere , That shee may vew his cumly corps , whom shée estemes so deere : Where wee may once againe renue , our late surpassed dayes , Which then were spent with kisses sweet , & other wanton playes : But all in vayne ( forgiue thy thrall , if shee do iudge awrong ) Thou canst not want of dainty Trulles Italian Dames among . This only now I speake by gesse , but if it happen true , Suppose that thou hast seene the sword , that mee thy Louer slue : Perchance through time so merrily with dallying damsels spent , Thou standst in doubt & wilte enquire from whom these lines were sent : If so , remember first of all , if thou hast any spowse , Remember when , to whom and why , thou earst hast plited vowes , Remember who esteemes thee best , and who bewayles thy flight , Minde her to whom for loyalty thou falshood doost requight . Remember Heauen , forget not Hell , and way thyne owne estate , Reuoke to minde whom thou hast left , in shamefull blame & hate : Yea minde her well who did submit , into thine onely powre , Both hart and life , and therwithall , a ritch and wealthy dowre : And last of all which greeues mee most , that I was so begylde , Remember most forgetfull man , thy pretty tatling childe : The least of these surnamed things , I hope may well suffise , To shew to thee the wretched Dame , that did this bill deuise . I speake in vayne , thou hast thy will , and now sayth Aesons sonne , Medea may packe vp her pypes , the golden Fleese is wonne : If so , be sure Medea I will , shew forth my selfe in deede , Yet gods defend though death I taste , I should distroy thy seede : Agayne , if that I should enquire , wherfore thou doost soiurne , No answere fitly mayst thou make , I know to serue thy turne : Thou canst not say but that I haue , obseru'd my loue to thée , Thou canst not say , but that I haue , of life vnchast bin frée . Thou canst not cloak ( through want ) thy flight , since riches did abound Thou néedes not shame of mée thy spouse , whose byrth not low is found , As for my beauty , thou thy self , earwhile didst it commend And to conclude I know no thing , wherin I dyd offend : Retier with spéed , I long to see , thy barke in wished bay , The Seas are calmer to returne , then earst to fly away . Beholde the gentill windes doo serue , so that a frendly gayle , Would soone conuay to happy Porte , thy most desired sayle : Return would make amends for all , and bannish former wronge , Oh that I had for to entice , a Scyrens flattering songe . But out alas , I haue no shift , or cunning to entreat , It may suffise the absence thine , that I my griefes repeate Demaund not how I did disgest , at first thy sodayne flight , For ten dayes space I tooke no rest , by day nor yet by night : But like to Baccus beldame Nonne , I sent and rangde apace , To sée if that I mought thée finde , in some frequented place : Now here , now there , now vp , now down , my fancy so was fed , Untill at length I knew of troth , that thou from mee wert fled . Then was I fully bent with blade , to stab my vexed harte , Yet hope that thou wouldst come agayn , my purpose did conuart : And so ere since I liu'd in hope bemixt with dreadful feare , My smeared face through endles teares , vnpleasant doth appeare : My slepes vnsound with vgly dreams , my meats are vayn of taste My gorgious rayment is dispisde , my tresses rudly plaste . And to bee breefe : I bouldly speake , there doth remayne no care : But that therof in amplest wise , I doo possesse a share : Lyke as the tender sprig doth bend , with euery blast of winde , Or as the guidelesse Ship on Seas , no certaine Porte may finde . So I now subiecte vnto hope , now thrall to carefull dread , Amids the Rocks , tween hope and feare , as fancy mooues , am led : Alas returne , my deare returne , returne and take thy rest , God graunt my wordes may haue the force , to penytrat thy brest . What doost thou thinke in Italy , some great exployt to win ? No , no , it is not Italy , as sometimes it hath bin : Or doost thou loue to gad abroad , the forrain costes to vew , If so , thou hadst not doone amisse , to bid mée first a dew : But what hath bin the cause , I néede not descant longe , For sure I am , meane while poore wench , I only suffer wrong . Wel thus I leaue , yet more could say : but least thou shouldst refuse , Through tediousnesse to réede my lines , the rest I will excuse : Untill such time as mighty Ioue doth send such luckye grace , As wée therof in fréendly wise , may reason face to face . Till then farwell , and hée thee kéepe , who only knowes my smart And with this bill I send to thee , a trusty Louers harte . By mee , to thee , not mine , but thine , Since Loue doth moue the same , Thy mate , though late , doth wright , her light , Thou well , canst tell , her name .
A Letter sent from beyond the Seaes to his Louer , perswading her to continew her loue towardes him . TO thée I write whose life and death , thy faith may saue or spil : Which fayth obserue , I liue in ioy , if not , your freend you kill : Suspecte not that I doo misdoubt , your loyalty at all : But pender how that louers are , vnto suspicion thrall . Which thraldome bréedeth furth thrall , if woonted fayth doo fayle : Agaynst the Louer thus forlorne , do thousand Cares preuayle : It litle helpes to haue begun , and there to set a stay , They win more fame , that fight it out : then those that run away . Like as the willing hound that doth , pursue the Deare in Chace : Will not omit vnto the ende , his paynfull weary race : So Loue ( if loue it bee indeed ) will stedfast still remayne : What so betide , good hap or yll , and not reuoult agayne . Such fayth of you , swéet hart I aske , such fayth : why sayd I so ? What néede I to demaund the thing . I haue had long ago : Your fayth you gaue , the case is playn , you may not seeme to start : And I in earnest of the match did leaue with you my hart . But now perhaps you may alleage , long distance may procure , A cause wherby our former loue , no longer may endure : If so you Iudge to far amisse , although that sayle and winde , Conuay my corps to cuntry strange , my hart remaynes behinde . Examples many could I shew , but néedles is that payne , Mine owne example shall suffise , when I returne agayne : Meane while although to swim I want , Leanders cunning art , In all things els ( except the same ) I le play Leanders part . In hope that thou wilt shew thy selfe , to mée an Hero true , And so although loth to depart , I say swéete hart adue . A Ringe I sende , wherin is pende , a Posie ( if you reede ) Wherby you may , perceaue alway , of what I most haue neede . By mee your frende , vnto the ende , if you therto agree , Although not so , your louing foe , I still perforce must bee . FINIS .
An other louing Letter . BEcause my hart is not mine owne , but resteth now with thée , I greet thee well of hartinesse , thy selfe mayst Caruer bée : Muse not hereat but like hereof , first read and then excuse , I wish to you a plyant hart , when you these lines peruse . Hope bids me speak , fear stayes my tongue , but Cupid makes mée boulde , And Fancy harps of good successe , when that my playnt is tould : Thus Hope doth prick , & feare doth kicke , & fancy féeds my brayn , In you alone doth now consist , the salue to ease my payne . You are my Paradice of ioy , the heauen of my delight , And therwithall ( which thing is strang ) the worker of my spight : Which spight I seeke not to reuenge , but meekely to subdue , Not as a foe , but as a fréend , I do your loue pursue . I yeeld my selfe vnto your power , and will not you relente ? In humble wise I mercy craue , and is your mercy spente ? No sure , as nature outwardly , hath shewde in you her skill , I doubt not but that inwardly , the like shee doth fulfill . So good a face , so trim a grace , as doth in you remayne : A Cressids cruell stony harte , I know may not retayne : Wherfore to ratefie my wordes , let déedes apparant bée : Then may you vaunt and proue it true , you fréedom gaue to mée . Consider of my restles care , and way blinde Cupids ire : Then shal you finde my paynful loue , doth claym but earned hire . Requite not this my curtesy , and fréendship with disdaine , But as I loue vnfainedly , so yeeld like loue againe . Allow hereof as for the rest , that doth belong to loue : My selfe therof will take the care , as time , in time shall proue . Meane while , I wish a Thisbies hart , in you there may endure : Then doubt not , but a Pyramus , of mée you shall procure . Yours at your will , To saue or spill . FINIS .
Proctors Precepts . LEaue vading plumes , no more vaunt , gallant youth , Thy masking weeds forsake , take collours sage : Shun vicious steps , consider what ensueth , Time lewdly spent , when on coms crooked age . When beauty braue shall vade , as doth the flower , When manly might , shall yeeld to auncient time : When yonge delightes shall dye , and ages bower , Shall lodge thy corps , bemoning idle prime . Learne of the Ant , for stormy blastes to get Prouision , least vntimely want do cum , And mooues thee mone such time , so lewd neglect From vertues lore , where worthy honors wun . Thinke how vncertayne here , thou liust a guest , Amid such vice , that s irksome to beholde : Thinke whence thou camst , and where thy corps shall rest , When breathing breath , shall leaue thy carkasse colde . When dreadfull death , shall daunt thy hauty minde , When fearfull flesh , shall shrowd in clammy clay : When pamperd plumes shall vade , and dreads shall finde , Deseruings due , for erring lewd astray . Run not to rash , least triall make the mone , In auncient yeres thy greene vnbridled time : Olde Age is lothd , with folly ouer grown , Yonge yeres dispisde , cut of in sprowting prime . Experience learne , let elder lyues thee lead , In lyuely yeres , thy fickle steps to guide : Least vnawares , such vncoth paths thou tread , Which filthy be thought , pleasant to be eyde . In calmest Seas , the deepest Whorepooles bee , In greenest Grasse , the lurking Adder lyes : With eger sting , the sugerest sap wee see , Smooth wordes deceiue , learne therfore to bee wise . FINIS .
Inuidus alterius rebus macrescit opimis . THe greedy man , whose hart with hate doth swell , Because hee sees his neyghbors good estate : Liues vncontent , with what might serue him well , And eftsoones seemes to blame sufficient fate : This grudging gluton glut , with goulden gayne , To serue his vse , although hee hath enough : Repines at that , which others get with payne , So that himselfe therby , hee doth abuse : Hee thinkes that much , which passeth by his claw , And findes a fault for it through luckles hap : Although the matter valueth scarce a straw , Hee deemes it small of gaine , that giues no sap . Hee thinkes his store , shall serue his senclesse corse , Or that no death at all , hee deemes there bee : Els would hee to his conscience haue remorse , And seeke to liue content with his degree : For what auayles , to horde vp heapes of drosse , Or seeke to please vnsaciate fond desire : Considering that , t is subiect vnto losse , And wee ( therby yll got ) deserues Hell fire : From which O Lord conduct vs with thy hand , And giue vs grace to liue vnto thy prayse : Preserue our Queene his subiects and her land , And graunt in peace , shee raigne here Nestors dayes . FINIS .
The reward of Whoredome by the fall of Helen . FRom Limbo Lake , where dismall féendes do lye , Where Pluto raignes , perpend Helenas cry : Where firy flames , where pittious howlings bee , Where bodyes burne : from thence giue eare to mee . I am Helena shée , for whose vilde filthy fact , The stately Towers of Troy , the hauty Grecians sacte : High Troy , whose pompe , throughout the world did sound , In Cinders low , through mee was layd on ground . Kinge Priamus through mée , did end his life : And Troians all almost , I was the cause of strife . I am that Dame , whose beauty passing braue , Dame Venus praysde , the golden Pome to haue : Whose feature forste , Sir Paris boyling brest , To leaue his land , and seeke to be my guest . That trull which tost , the surging Seas a maine , From Grecian shoare , to Troy vnto my paine . That flurt , whose gallant sproutinge prime , Through vilde abuse , was scorcht ere auncient time : I vertue shund , I lothd a modest mynde , I wayd not fame , my beauty made mee blinde . Each braue delight , my masking minde allurde , My fancy déemed , my beauties gloze assurde : Such worthy fame , did sound of Helens hue , Although my déedes , reapt shame , and guerdon due . In gorgious plumes , I maskt , puft vp with pride , In braue delights I liu'd , my fancy was my guide : But fie of filth , your world is all but vayne , Your pomp consumes , your deeds shall guerdon gaine : See here by mee , whose beauty might haue boast , For splendant hue , throughout each forrain coast . But what preuayles , to vaunt of beauties glose , Or brag of pride , wheron dishonor growes : If I had vsde my gifts in vertues lore , And modest liud , my prayse had bin the more . Where now too late , I lothe my life lewd spent , And wish I had , with vertue bin content . FINIS . T. P.
A Louers lyfe . THe tedious toyle , the cares which Louers taste , The troubled thoughts , which moues their mindes to feare : The pinching pangs , the dole which seemes to waste , Their lothsome life , déepe plungd in gulfes of care : Would mooue ech shun , such snares of vayne delight , Which irksome be , though pleasant to the sight . The minde full fraught , with care enioyes no ease , A boyling brest , desires vnlawfull lust : The hart would haue , what best the minde doth please , And fancy craues , the thing which is vniust . Beside eche frown , which eftsoones moues them déeme , They abiect are , if sad their Louers séeme . Or if occasion shun , their vsuall sight , Not seene , they thinke themselues vnminded bée : And then in dumps , as mazd they leaue delight , And yéeld to greefe , till one , eche others see : So that with feare , their mindes are alwayes fraught . That liue in loue , experience some hath taught . Eche lowring frown , from mirth doth moue the minde , One iesting worde , procures a thousand woes : So that lyke gréefe or more , through sight they finde , Then absence sure , such cares fro fancy flowes : Such goring gripes , such heapes of hideous harmes , Such sorowing sobs , from daunted louers swarmes . Rosamond a spowsed Dame , her husbands death procurde , For speaking but a worde in iest : Itrascus too , full thyrty yeares indurde , The panges of loue , within his boyling brest : So that in gréefe they harbor , still their mindes are cloyd with care , They diue in dole , they plunge in payne , & liue in cruell feare . And diuers moe , as Axeres whose beauty passing faire , So Iphis hart , and boyling brest allurde : That for her sake , hée liude in extreame care , And cruell gréefe , while breathing breath indurde : But at the length , disdayne vpon a trée , Hée honge himselfe , where shee his corps might sée . FINIS .
A Louer approuing his Lady vnkinde . Is forsed vnwilling to vtter his minde . Willow willow willow , singe all of gréene willow , Sing all of gréene willow , shall bée my Garland . MY loue , what mislyking in mée do you finde , Sing all of gréene willow : That on such a soddayn , you alter your minde , Sing willow willow willow : What cause doth compell you , so fickle to bée ? Willow willow willow willow : In hart which you plighted , most loyall to mée , Willow willow willow willow . I faythfully fixed , my fayth to remayne , Sing all of gréene willow : In hope I as constant , should finde you agayne , Sing willow willow willow : But periurde as Iason , you faythlesse I finde , Which makes mee vnwilling , to vtter my minde : Willow willow willow , singe all of gréene willow , Sing all of greene willow shall bee my Garland . Your beauty braue decked , with showes gallant gay , Sing all of greene willow : Allured my fancy , I could not say nay , Sing willow willow willow . Your phrases fine philed , did force mée agrée , Willow willow willow willow : In hope as you promis'd , you loyall would bée , Willow willow willow willow . But now you be frisking , you list not abide , Sing all of greene willow : Your vow most vnconstant , and faythlesse is tride , Sing willow , willow willow : Your wordes are vncertayne , not trusty you stand , Which makes mée to weare , the willow Garland : Willow willow willow , sing all of greene willow , Sing all of gréene willow , shall bée my Garland . Hath Light of loue luld you , so softe in her lap ? Sing all of gréene willow : Hath fancy prouokte you ? did loue you intrap ? Sing willow willow willow : That now you be flurting , and will not abide . Willow willow willow willow : To mée which most trusty , in time should haue tride , Willow willow willow willow . Is modest demeanure , thus turnd to vntrust ? Sing all of greene willow : Are fayth and troth fixed , approoued vniust ? Sing willow , willow will : Are you shée which constant , for euer would stand ? And yet will you giue mée , the willow Garland ? Willow willow willow , singe all of gréene willow , Sing all of gréene willow , shall bée my Garland . What motion hath moude you , to maske in delight , Sing all of gréene willow , What toy haue you taken , why séeme you to spight Sing willow willow willow , Your loue which was ready for aye to indure , Willow willow willow willow : According to promise most constant and sure , Willow willow willow willow . What gallant you conquerd , what youth mooude your minds , Sing all of gréene willow : To leaue your olde Louer , and bée so vnkinde , Singe willow willow willow : To him which you plighted both fayth , troth and hand , For euer : yet giues mee the willow Garland ? Willow willow willow , singe all of greene willow , Sing all of greene willow , shall bee my Garland . Hath wealth you allured , the which I doo want , Sing all of greene willow : Hath pleasant deuises , compeld you recant , Sing willow willow willow : Hath feature forste you , your words to deny ? Willow willow willow willow : Or is it your fashion to cog , and to lye , Willow willow willow willow ? What are your sweet smiles , quite turnd into lowres , Sing all of green willow : Or is it your order , to change them by howres , Sing willow willow willow : What haue you sufficient , thinke you in your hand , To pay for the making , of my willow Garland : Willow willow willow , singe all of greene willow , Sing all of greene willow , shall bee my Garland . Farewell then most fickle , vntrue and vniust , Sing all of greene willow : Thy deedes are yll dealings , in thee is no trust , Willow willow willow willow . Thy vowes are vncertayne , thy wordes are but winde Willow willow willow willow . God graunt thy new louer , more trusty thee finde , Willow willow willow willow ? Be warned then gallants , by proofe I vnfolde , Sing willow willow willow , Mayds loue is vncertayne , soone hot , and soone colde , Sing willow willow willow : They turne as the reed , not trusty they stand , Which makes mee to weare the willow Garland : Willow willow willow , singe all of greene willow , Sing all of greene willow , shall bee my Garland . FINIS .
A gloze of fawning freendship . NOw cease to sing your Syren songes , I leaue ech braue delight Attempt no more the wounded corps , which late felt fortunes spight : But rather helpe to rue , with sorowing sobs come mone , My lucklesse losse from wealth to woe , by fickle fortune throwne . I once had freends good store , for loue , ( no drosse I tryde ) For hauing lost my goods on Seas , my freends would not abide , Yet hauing neede I went to one , of all I trusted moste : To get releefe , hee answerd thus , go packe thou peuish poste . His wordes did pearce my tender brest , and I as mazde did stand Requesting him with pitteous plaints , to giue his helping hand : Content thy selfe ( quoth hee ) to serue my owne estate , I haue not I , yet am I greeu'd to see thy lucklesse fate . Ah fie of fawning freends , whose eyes attentiue bee , To watch and warde for lukers sake , with cap and bended knee : Would God I had not knowne , their sweet and sugered speach , Then had my greefe the lesser bin , experience mee doth teach . FINIS .
A Maze of Maydens . WHo goes to gaze of euery gallant girle , And castes his eyes at euery glauncing gloze : Whose masking minde , with euery motion moou'd , In fine shall finde , his fancy fraught with woes . For pleasure spent , is but a wishing vayne , By crooked chaunce , depriude of braue delight : Cut of by care , a heape of hurtfull harmes , Our gaze vngaynd , which whilome pleasde our sight . Our baunts doo vade , our pleasures passe away , Our sugerest swéetes , reapes sorowing sobs in fine : Our braggest boast , of beauties brauest blaze , To forowed browes , doth at the length resigne . Our foolish fancy filde , with filthy vice , Pursues his hurt , vnto anothers harmes : A houering hart , with euery gloze enticed , gaynes lothsome-loue , whence nought but sorow swarmes . Leaue then to gaze , of euery glauncing gloze , Contemne the sleights , of beauties sugerest bate : Whose outward sheath , with colours braue imbost , Shuns cruell craft , and enuious hurtfull hate . FINIS .
A short Epistle written in the behalfe of N.B. to M.H. DEare Lady deckt with cumlynesse , To counteruayle my clemency : Bee prest , I pray , in readynesse , To yeeld your courteous curtesie . Let mee you finde Penelope , In minde , and loyall hart : So shall I , your Vlisses bée , Till breathing lyfe depart . Yelde loue for loue , to him who lykes , To liue in lynckes of loyalty : And graunt him grace , who nothing séekes , For his good will , but curtesy . Let mee your bondmen , fauour finde , To gratefie : my willing harte : Whom no attempt , to please your minde , Shall hynder mee , to play my parte . Permit mee not , in lingring sorte , To labour in a barrayn soyle : Ne giue occasion to reporte , How loytryng loue , reapes troubled toyle . But let mee say , my hart obtaynd , The gloze , which pleasd my glauncing eyes : And that I haue for guerdon gaynd , The best that in my Lady lyes . So shall I boast of that , which best Doth please the prime of my desire : And glory in a gayned rest , Which through your fauour I aspire . FINIS .
A vew of vayn glory . WHat motion more , may mooue a man to minde His owne estate , then proofe , whose dayes vnsure , Accounted are vnto a puffe of winde , A breathing blast , whose force can not endure : Whose lyuely showes consumes , whose pompe decayes , Whose glory dyes , whose pleasures soone be spent : Whose stoutest strength , to weakenes subiect stayes , Whose thoughts bee vaine , and vade as though vnment . What haue wée then to vaunt , or glory in ? Sith all is vayne , wherin wée take delight : Why should wée boast or brag , sith nought wée win In fine , but death ? to whom yéeldes euery wight . To equall state , hée bringeth each degrée , Hée feareth none , all subiects yéeldes to death : To dankish dust , hée driueth all wée sée , Which in the world , enioyeth any breath : Why vaunt wée then , in that wée sée is vayne , Or take delight , in that wée proue but drosse ? Why glory wee , or séeke for golden gayne ? Sith at the length , wee reape therof but losse . Wée lothe to leaue , our hutches filde with golde : Our annual rents , it gréeues vs to forgo , Our buildings braue , which glads vs to beholde : Our pleasant sport , it gréeues vs to forgo . Wée nothing brought , ne ought shall carry hence , Lyfe lost , behinde goods , mony , land , wée leaue : And naked shall returne , assured whence Before wée came , when death doth life bereaue : Line then , to leaue thy life in euery hower , Learne how to lead thy minde , from vayne desire , Of filthy drosse , whose sugerest sweet is sower , When dreadfull death , shall yéeld our earthly hire . What is our world but vayne , fraught full of vice , Wherin wée liue , allured by disceat : Which vs in youth , to error doth entice , And sturs vs vp , in flamed by follyes heat . Our mindes are mooued , with euery fond desire , Wee gloze in that , the which wée see vnsure : Wée vsuall séeke great honor to aspire , Whose greatest pompe , doth but a while endure : For proofe the flower , bedect with gorgious hew , As soone with heate , of scorching sun doth fade : As doth the weede , the which vnséemly grew , And showes it selfe , vncouerd with the shade . The stately ship , which floates on foming fluds , With waue is tost , as soone to surging Seas : Doth yéeld his pompe , though fraught with store of goods , As vessell weake , whose force the streame assayes : Our selues may show , the state of eche degrée , As Sampson stout , whose force Philistians felt : For wealth , let Diues , glut with golde our Mirror bée , Marke Nemrods fall , whose hart with pride was swelt . And diuers mo , whose preter pathes may learne , Our future steps , our vayn vnsteady stay : Whose elder lyues , already past may warne , Us shun such snares , which leades vs to decay . FINIS . T. P.
The fall of folly , exampled by needy Age . BEhold mée here whose youth , to withered yeres , Doth bow and bend , compeld by crooked age : Sée here my lyms , whose strength benumbde weres , Whose pleasure spent , gray heares , bids to bee sage . But loe to late I lothe my life lewd spent , And wish in vayne , I had foreséene in youth : These drowsie dayes , which mooues mee to lament My idle youth prou'd , what therof ensueth . Unstorde olde yeres , must serue for lusty prime , These féebled ioynts , must séeke to serue their want : With tedious toyle , because I vsde not time , Loe thus I liue , suffisde perforce to scant . In flaunting yeres , I flaunting florisht forth , Amid delight , puft vp , with puffing pryde : Meane garments then , I déemed nothing worth , Nay , scarce the best , might serue , my flesh to hide . I thought them foes , which tolde mée of my fault , And iudgd them speake , of rigor , not good will : Who toulde of gayne , mée thought for hire did hault , Then loe , I lothde what now I wish by skill . Experience mooues mée mone , the more my gréefe , In lyuely yeres , because I did not shun Such idle steps , least voyd of such reléefe , As might haue helpt my age , now youth is dun . But what preuayles to wish I would I had , Sith time delayd , may not bee calde agayne : A guerdon iust , ( for such as youth too bad Consumes , ( it is ) in time therfore take payne . Seeke how in youth to serue contented age , Learne , how to lead , your life in vertues lore : Beholde you mee , attacht with death his page , Constraynd through want , my lewdnes to deplore . What greefe more great , vnto a hauty hart , Then is distresse , by folly forste to fall : What care more cruell or lothsom , ( to depart From wealth to want ) it greeues vs to the gall . But what auayles to boast , or vaunt of vayne ? What profit is t , to prayse a passed pryde ? Sith it consum'd , is but a pinching payne , A heape of harmes , whose hurt I wretch haue tryde . A direfull dreed , a surge of sorowing sobs , A carking care , a mount of mestiue mone : A sacke of sin , coucht full of cankered knobs , A wauering weed , whose force is soone orethrone . For proofe behold , the boast of breathing breath , See see how soone , his valiaunst vaunt doth vade : Our pleasant prime , is subiect vnto death , By vices vrgde , in waues of wo to wade . I know the state , and trust of euery tyme , I see the shame , wherto eche vice doth cum : Therfore ( by mee ) learne how to leaue such crime , Foelix quem faciunt , aliena pericula cautum . Let mee your Mirror , learne you leaue what s lewd , My fall forepassed , let teach you to beware : My auncient yeres with tryall tript , haue vewd , The vaunt of vice , to be but carking care . FINIS . T.P.
A proper Sonet , how time consumeth all earthly thinges . AY mee , ay mee , I sighe to see , the Sythe a fielde , Downe goeth the Grasse , soone wrought to withered Hay : Ay mee alas , ay mee alas , that beauty needes must yeeld , And Princes passe , as Grasse doth fade away . Ay mee , ay mee , that life cannot haue lasting leaue , Nor Golde , take holde , of euerlasting ioy : Ay mee alas , ay mee alas , that time hath talents to receyue , And yet no time , can make a suer stay . Ay mee , ay mee , that wit can not haue wished choyce , Nor wish can win , that will desires to see : Ay mee alas , ay mee alas , that mirth can promis no reioyce , Nor study tell , what afterward shal bee . Ay mee , ay mee , that no sure staffe , is giuen to age , Nor age can giue , sure wit , that youth will take : Ay mee alas , ay mee alas , that no counsell wise and sage , Will shun the show , that all doth marre and make . Ay mee , ay mee , come time , sheare on , and shake thy Hay , It is no boote , to baulke thy bitter blowes : Ay mee alas , ay mee alas , come time , take euery thing away , For all is thine , bee it good or bad that growes . FINIS .
A Mirror of Mortallity . SSall clammy clay , shrowd such a gallant gloze , Dust beauty braue , be shrinde in dankish earth : Shall crawling wormes , deuoure such liuely showes , of yong delights . When valyant corps , shall yéeld the latter breath , Shall pleasure vade , must puffing pride decay : Shall flesh consume , must thought resigne to clay . Shall haughty hart , haue hire to his desart , Must deepe desire die , drenchd in direfull dread : Shall déeds lewd dun , in fine reape bitter smart , Must each vade , when life shall leaue vs dead : Shall Lands remayne ? must wealth be left behinde ? Is sence depriu'd ? when flesh in earth is shrinde . Séeke then to shun , the snares of vayne delight , Which moues the minde , in youth from vertues lore : Leaue of the vaunt of pride , and manly might , Sith all must yeeld , when death the flesh shall gore : And way these wordes , as soone for to be solde , To Market cums , the yonge shéepe as the olde . No trust in time , our dayes vncertayne bee , Like as the flower , bedect with splendant hue : Whose gallant show , soone dride with heat wee see , Of scorching beames , though late it brauely grew : Wée all must yeeld , the best shall not denye , Unsure is death , yet certayn wee shall dye . Although a while , we vaunt in youthful yeares , In yonge delightes , wee see me to liue at rest : Wee subiect bee , to griefe eche horror feares , The valiaunst harts , when death doth daunt the brest : Then vse thy talent here vnto thee lent , That thou mayst well account how it is spent . FINIS . T.P.
A briefe dialogue between sicknesse and worldly desire . Sicknesse . TO darkesome caue , where crawling wormes remayn . Thou worldly wretch , resigne thy boasting breath : Yéeld vp thy pompe , thy corps must passe agayn , From whence it came , compeld by dreadfull death . Worldly desire . Oh sicknesse sore , thy paines doo pearce my hart , Thou messenger of death , whose goryng gripes mee greue : Permit a while , mee loth yet to depart From fréends and goods , which I behinde must leaue . Sicknesse . Ah silly soule , entis'de with worldly vayne , As well as thou , thy fréends must yéeld to death : Though after thee , a while they doo remayne , They shall not still , continue on the earth . Worldly desire . What must I then néede , shrine in gastly graue ? And leaue what long , I got with tedious toyle : Prolong mee yet , and let mee licence haue , Till elder yéeres , to put your Brutes to foyle . Sicknesse . O foolish man , allurde by lewd delight , Thy labors lost , these goods they are not thine : But as ( thou hadst ) so others haue like right , ( Of them ) when thou , shalt vp thy breath resigne . Worldly desire . Then farewell world , the Nurse of wicked vice , Adue vile drosse which mooues mens mindes to ill : Farewell delights , which did my youth entice , To serue as slaue , vnto vnsatiate will . FINIS . T.P.
Aeger Diues habet Nummos , sed non habet ipsum . THe wealthy chuffe , for all his wealth , Cannot redeeme therby his health : But must to Graue , for all his store , Death spareth neither riche nor poore : Not Cressus wealth , nor Mydas Golde , The stroke of careles death may holde : Hee feares no foe , hee spares no freend , Of euery thing hee is the ende : Though Diues had great store of pealfe , Yet still the wretch , did want him selfe . No Phisickes art , or cunning cure , May any man of life assure : No highe estate or beauty braue , May keepe vs from our carefull graue : No hauty minde or valyant harte , Agaynst pale Death , may take our parte : No curious speach , or witty tale , Our dyinge corps may counteruayle : No force , no gyle , no powre or strength , But death doth ouercome at length . The riche man trusteth in his Gould , And thinkes that life , is bought and sould : The sight therof so bleares , his eye , That hee remembreth not to dye : Hee hath enough and liues in ioye , Who dares ( thinkes hee ) worke mee annoy : Thus is hee made , to pleasure thrall , And thinkes that death will neuer call : Who vnawares with stealing pace , Doth ende in payne his pleasant race . The greedy Marchant will not spare , For lukers sake , to lye and sware : The simple sorte hee can by slight , Make to beleeue the Crow is white : No science now , or arte is frée , But that some gyle therin wee see : Thus euery man for greedy gayne , Unto himselfe encreaseth payne : And thinkes the crime to bee but small , When that they loose both soule and all . Who lyueth here , that is content , With such estate as God hath sent : The hungry Churle , and wealthy Chusse , Doth neuer thinke , hee hath enough : Fortune to many , giues to much , But few or none , thee maketh riche : Thus euery man , doth scrape and catch , And neuer more , for death doo watch : Who still is present at their side , And cuts them of , amids their pride . Such is the world , such is the time , That eche man striues alofte to clyme : But when they are in top of all , In torments great they hedlong fall : Where they do giue accompt at large , How they their tallent did discharge : There no man takes their golden fée , To plead their case , and set them free : Then too too late they doo begin , For to repent their former sinne : Wherfore I wish that eche degree , With lotted chaunce contented bee : Let not thy treasure make thee prowde , Nor pouerty bée disalowde : Remember who doth giue and take , One God both riche and poore doth make : Wée nothing had or ought shall haue . To beare with vs vnto our graue : But vertuous life which here wée leade , On our behalfe for grace to plead . Therfore I say thy lust refrayne , And séeke not after brickle gayne : But séeke that wealth , the which will last , When that this mortall life is past : In heauen is ioy and pleasure still , This world is vayne and full of yll : Use not so lewd thy worldly pelfe , So that thou doost forget thy selfe : Liue in this world as dead in sinne , And dye in Christ , true life to win . FINIS .
Win fame , and keepe it . WHo sées the yll , and séekes to shun the same , Shall doutlesse win at length immortal fame : For wisdome , vice and vertue doth perceaue , Shée vertue takes , but vice shée séekes to leaue . A wise man knowes the state of each degrée , The good be praysde , the euill dishonord bée : Hée sées the good , the euill hee doth espye , Hee takes the good , the euill hee doth denye : Hee folowes good , the euill hee dooth eschue , Hee leapes the lake , when others stay to vew . His honor stands , his fame doth euer last , Upon the earth when breathing breath is past : As Solomon whose wisdome recht vnto the lofty skye , And Dauid King , theyr prayses liue ( though bodies tombed lye ) They saw the good , the euill they did eschue , Their honor liues , the proofe affirmes it true : Then sithe examples playnly , showes the same , Their prayses liue who seekes to merit fame . finis T.P.
Respice finem . LO here the state of euery mortall wight , See here , the fine , of all their gallant ioyes : Beholde their pompe , their beauty and delight , Wherof they vaunt , as safe from all annoyes : To earth the stout , the prowd , the ritch shall yeeld , The weake , the méeke , the poore , shall shrowded lye In dampish mould , the stout with Speare and Shéeld Cannot defend , himselfe when hee shal dye . The prowdest wight , for all his lyuely showes , Shall leaue his pompe , cut of by dreadfull death : The ritch , whose Hutch , with golden Ruddocks flowes , At lenght shall rest , vncoynd in dampish earth : By Natures law , wee all are borne to dye , But where or when , the best vncertayne bée : No time prefixt , no goods our life shall buye , Of dreadfull death , no freends shall set vs free . Wée subiect bée , a thousand wayes to death , Small sicknesse moues the valiaunts hart to feare : A litle push bereaues your breathing breath , Of braue delights , wherto you subiect are : Your world is vayne , no trust in earth you finde , Your valyaunst prime , is but a brytle glasse : Your pleasures vade , your thoughts a puffe of winde , Your auncient yeres , are but a withered grasse . Mors omnibus communis . finis T.P.
A briefe Caueat , to shun fawning friends . TRy , ere thou trust , vnto a fawning fréend , Giue no regard , vnto his sugered wordes , Make your account to leese , what you him lend , For collourd craft , the smoothest speech affordes . My selfe haue tried , the trust of tatling tungs Who paynt their prates , as though they would performe : ( The more my greefe ) for they ( which ) whilome clungs , Like Bées ( goods lost ) sole left mee in the storme , Where I was fayne , in worldly woes to waue , And seeke reléefe , of former fréends , no fie : Perforce constraynd , to séeke my selfe to saue , Or els vnhelp'd , sance succor still to lye . I made my mone , the greater was my gréefe , To him which was , as seruant to my state : But what preuayld , by proofe I found him chéefe , Who not of mée , but on my wealth did wate . Donec eris foelix , multos numerabis amicos , Temporasi fuerint nubila , solus eris . FINIS . T. P.
Beauty is a pleasant pathe to distruction . THrough beauties sugered baites , Our mindes seduced are : To filthy lustes to wicked vice , Whence issueth nought but care . For hauing tride the troth And seen the end of it : What wayle we more with greater greefe , Then want of better wit , Because so lewd wee luld , In that wee see is vayne : And follow that , the which to late , Compels vs to complayne . The boast of Beauties brags , And gloze of louing lookes : Seduce mens mindes as fishes are , Intic'd with bayted hookes . Who simply thinking too , Obtayne the pleasant pray : Doth snatch at it , and witlesse so , Deuoures her owne decay . Euen like the mindes of men , Allurde with beauties bayt : To heapes of harmes , to carking care , Are brought , by such decaite . Lothus by proofe it proou'd , Perforce I needes must say : That beauty vnto ruinous end , Is as a pleasant way . FINIS . T.P.
T. P. his Farewell vnto his faythfull and approoued freend . F. S. FArewell my fréend , whom fortune forste to fly , I greeue to here , the lucklesse hap thou hast : But what preuayles , if so it helpe might I , I would be prest , therof be bold thou maste . Yet sith time past , may not be calde agayne , Content thy selfe , let reason thee perswade : And hope for ease , to counteruayle thy payne , Thou art not first , that hath a trespasse made . Mourne not to much , but rather ioy , because God hath cut of thy will , ere greater crime : Wherby thou might , the more incur the lawes , And beare worse Brutes , seduc'd by wicked prime . Take héede , my woordes let teach thée to be wise , And learne thee shun , that leades thy minde to ill : Least béeing warnd , when as experience tries , Thou waylst to late , the woes , of wicked will . FINIS . T. P.
The History of Pyramus and Thisbie truely translated . IN Babilon a stately seate , of high and mighty Kinges , Whose famous voice of ancient rule , through all the world yet ringes : Two great estates did whilom dwell : and places ioyned so , As but one wall eche princely place , deuided other fro : These Nobles two , two children had , for whom Dame Nature sought , The déepest of her secret skill , or shée their byrth had wrought : For as their yeares in one agréed , and beauty equall shone , In bounty and lyke vertues all , so were they there all one . And as it pleased Nature then , the one a sonne to frame , So did the glad olde Father like him Pyramus to name : Th' other a maide , the mother would that shée then Thisbie hight , With no smal blisse of parents al , who came to ioy the sight : I ouerslip what sodaine frights , how often feare there was , And what the care each creature had , ere they did ouerpas : What paynes ensue , & what the stormes in pearced harts that dwel , And therfore know , what babe & mother whose chast , & subtil brand No earthly hart , ne when they lust , no God hath yet withstand , Ere seuen yeres these infants harts , they haue with loue opprest : Though litle know their tender age , what causeth their vnrest , Yet they poore fooles vntaught to loue , or how to lesse their payne : With well contented mindes receiue , and prime of loue sustayne . No pastime can they elswhere finde , but twayn themselues alone For other playfeares sport , God wot , with them is reckend none : Ioy were to here their prety wordes , and swéet mamtam to sée , And how all day they passe the time , till darknes dimmes the skye : But then the heauy cheare they make , when forst is their farwell Declares such gréefe as none would thinke , in so yong brests could dwell : Ye looke how long , that any let , doth kepe them two a sunder , Their mourning harts no ioy may glad , that heuens the passeth vnder And when agayn , they efte repayre , and ioyfull méeting make , Yet know they not the cause therof , ne why their sorowes slake . With sight they feede their fancies then , and more it still desire , Ye more they haue , nor want they finde of sight they so require : And thus in tender impe spronge vp , this loue vpstarteth still , For more their yeres , much more the flame , that doth their fancies fill . And where before their infants age , gaue no suspect at all . Now needefull is , with weary eye , to watchfull minde they call : Their whole estate , & it to guide , in such wise orderly , As of their secret swéete desires , ill tongues no light espy . And so they did , but hard God wot , are flames of fire to hide Much more to cause a louers hart , within it bounds to finde : For neither colde , their mindes consent so quench of loue the rage Nor they at yeres , the least twise seuen , their passions so aswage But that to Thisbes Mothers eares , some spark therof were blowen , Let Mothers iudg her pacience now , til shée the whole haue knowen . And so by wily wayes shée wrought , to her no litle care , That forth shée found , their whole deuise , and how they were in snare : Great is her gréefe , though smal the cause , if other cause ne were , For why a meeter match then they , might hap no other where : But now tween Fathers , though the cause , mine Auctor nothing els , Such inward rancor risen is , and so it daily swels . As hope of fréendship to be had , is none ( alas ) the while , Ne any loueday to be made , their mallice to begyle : Wherfore straight charge , straight giuen is with fathers frowning chere , That message worde , ne token els , what euer that it were : Should from their foe to Thisbee passe , & Pyramus fréends likewise , No lesse expresse commaundement , doo for their sonne deuise . And yet not thus content alas , eche Father doth ordayne . A secret watch and bounde a point , wherin they shall remayne : Sight is forbid , restrained are wordes , for scalde is all deuise , That should their poore afflicted mindes , reioyce in any wise : Though pyning loue , gaue cause before of many carefull yll , Yet dayly sithe amended all , at least well pleased them still : But now what depth of deepe distresse , may they indrowned bee , That now in dayes twise twenty tolde , eche other once shall see . Curst is their face , so cry they ofte , and happy death they call , Come death come wished death at once , and rid vs life and all . And where before ( Dame Kinde ) her selfe , did wonder to beholde Her highe bequests within their shape , Dame Beauty did vnfold : Now doth shee maruel much and say , how faded is that red ? And how is spent that white so pure , it wont to ouerspred . For now late lusty Piramus , more fresh then flower in May , As one forlorne with constant minde , doth seeke his ending day : Since Thisbe mine is lost sayth hee , I haue no more to lose , Wherfore make speed , thou happy hand , these eyes of mine shall close . Abasid is his princely port , cast of his regall weede , Forsaken are assemblies all , and lothed the foming steed : No ioy may pearce his pensiue mynde , vnlesse a wofull brest May ioyed bee , with swarmes of care , in haples hart that rest : And thus poore Piramus distrest , of humaine succor all , Deuoyd to Venus Temple goes , and prostrate downe doth fal : And there of her , with hart I korue , and sore tormented mindes , Thus askes hee ayd , and of his woes , the Fardell thus vnbindes . O Great Goddesse , of whose immortal fire , Uertue in Erbe , might neuer quench the flame : Ne mortall sence , yet to such skill aspire , As for loues hurt a medecine once to name : With what deare price , my carefull pyned ghost , Hath tried this true , and ouer true alas : My greefeful eyes , that sight hath almost lost , And brest through darted , with thy golden Mace. Full well declare , though all that mee beholde , Are iudges , and wonders of my deadly wo : But thou alone , mayst helpe therfore vnfolde , Els helples ( Lady ) streight will knap in two The feeble thread , yet stayes my lingering life . Wherfore , if loue , thy sacred Goddes brest ? Did euer presse , or if most dreadly griefe , And causeles not thy inward soule opprest : When crooked Vulcane , to your common shame , Bewrayed of stolen ioyes , thy sweet delight : If then I say the feare of further blame , Caus'd you refrayne your Louers wished sight : And forst restraynt did equall then impart , And cause you taste , what payne in loue may bée : When absence driues , assured hartes to part . Thy pitty then ( O Quéene ) now not denye To mee poore wretch , who feeles no lesse a payne : If humayne brests , so much as heauenly may : Haue ruthe on him , who doth to thée complayne , And onely helpe of thée , doth lowly pray : Graunt Goddesse mine , thou mayst it vndertake , At least wise ( Lady ) ere this life decay : Graunt I beseeche so happy mée to make , That yet by worde , I may to her bewray My wonderous woes : and then if yee so please , Looke when you lust , let death my body ease . THus praying fast , ful fraught with cares , I leaue this wofull man , And turne I will to greater gréefe , then minde immagin can : But who now shall them writ since wit , denayeth the some to thinke , Confusedly in Thisbies brest , that flow aboue the brinke ? Not , I for though of mine owne store , I want no woes to write , Yet lacke I termes and cunning both , them aptly to recite . For Cunnings clyffe I neuer clombe , nor dranke of Science spring Ne slept vpon the happy hill , from whence Dame Rhetorique rings . And therfore all , I doo omit , and wholy them resigne , To iudgment of such wofull Dames , as in like case hath bin . This will I tel how Thisbie thus , opprest with dollors all , Doth finde none ease but day and night , her Pyramus to call : For lost is slepe and banisht is , all gladsome lightes delight , In short of case and euery helpe , eche meane shée hath in spight : In langor long , this life shée led , till hap as fortune pleased , To further fates that fast ensue , with her own thought her eased : For this shée thinkes , what distance may , or mansions bée betwéen Or where now stands so cruell wall , to part them as is seene O feeble wit forduld with woe , awake thy wandering thought , Seeke out , thou shalt assured finde , shall bring thy cares to nought . With this some hope , nay , as it were a new reuiued minde , Did promis straight her pensiue hart , immediate helpe to finde : And forth she steres , with swifted pace , ech place she seeks throughout No stay may let her hasty foote , till all be vewed about . Wherby at length from all the rest , a wall aloofe that lyes , And corner wise did buyldings part , with ioyful eye shée spyes : And scarcely then her pearcing looke , one blinke therof had got , But that firme hope of good successe , within her fancy shot : Then fast her eye shée roules about , and fast shée seekes to see , If any meane may there bee found , her comfort for to bee : And as her carefull looke shee cast , and euery part aright Had vewed wel , a litle rifte appeared to her sight , Which ( as it seemed ) through the wall , the course the issue had : Wherwith shee sayd ( O happy wall ) mayst thou so blist be made , That yet sometimes within thy bandes , my dere hart Pyramus : Thou doost possesse if hap so worke , I will assay thee thus . And from about the heauenly shape , her midle did present Shee did vnlose heer girdle riche , and pendent therof hent . And with her fingers long and small , on tipto so shee wrought , That through the wall to open sight , she hath the pendant brought That doone shee stayes , and to the wall she closely layes her eare , To vnderstand if any wight , on th' other side yet were : And whiles to harken thus shee stands , a wonderous thing behold Poore Pyramus in Venus Church , that all his minde had tolde . Performed his vowes and prayers eke , now ended all and dun , Doth to his Chamber fast returne , with hart right wo begun : Euen to the same where Thisbie stayd , to see if fortune please , To smooth her browes and her distresse , with any helpe to ease : Hee as his woonted vsage was , the Chamber once within , Lockes fast the doore with fresh complaynts , new sorrow to begin . But euen lo as his backe hee turned vnto the closed dore , Aglimpse of light the pendant gaue , his visage iust before : Let in his face , with speedy pace , and as hee nearer drew , With wel contented minde forthwith , his Thisbies signe he knew And when his trembling hand for ioy , the same receyued had , And hee ten hundreth times it kist , then thus to it hee sayd . THough many tokens ioyful newes haue set , And blisse redust , to carefull pyned ghost : Yet mayst thou sweare , that neuer lyued hee yet , Who halfe such ease , receiued in pleasure most : As thou sweete pendant , now in wofull brest Impersid hast , O happy Pyramus , Nay béeing a Lady , in whom such rathe can rest : Most blisfull Lady , most mighty Venus , And mighty Thisbie ( yea ) Venus not displeased , My Goddesse chéefe , my loue , my life and all : For who but Thisbie would , nay could haue eased , A hart remedyles , abandon thrall : Wherfore since thus ye please , to show your might , Make mée whole happy , with gladnesse of your sight . WHiles Pyramus all clad in ioy , thus talkes within the wall , No lesse content , doth Thisbie stand without and heareth al : And with those gladsom lightes , where loue doth sightly ioy to play , And vanquish harts her loue shée vewes in minde somwhat to say But maydēly feare plucks backe the word , dread stops her trimbling tongue , A rossy hew inflames her face , with staine of red among . Yet lo at length her minde thée stayes , her sences doo awake , And with a swéet soft sounding voyce , this answer doth she make . Loue Pyramus , more deare to mée then lyfe , Euen as I first this way , for spéech haue found : Of present death , so let the dreadfull knyfe , At this instant for euer mee consound : If ioyfull thought my passing pensiue harte , Did euer pearse , since parents cruell dome . Pronounst the sentence , of our common smart , No deare hart mine , for how alasse may blome : The fading trée , whose sap deuided is , Ye , further sweet , I dare with you presume : Your passed woes , but pastimes ware I wis , In their respect , that did mée whole consume . But now sharpe sighes , so stop my willing spéeche , Such streames of teares , doo dim my troubled sight : And inward feare , of parents wrath is such , Least longer talke , should giue them any light Of our repayre , that further to recyte , My heaped yls I neuer dare ne may , Yet oftenly , wee wisely heare may meete : At chosen times which shall vs not bewray , And this for short , thy Thisbie shalt thou see : With morning light , here present eft to bée , To this full fayne would Pyramus , replyed haue agayne , But part as néede , inforst they must , & as they did ordayne : Ere mornings dawne they doo arise & straight repayre they then Unto the fore appoynted place , Pyrame thus began . MYne entyer soule , what prison dollours ? What hard distresse , and rare deuysed woes ? Of mée thine owne , thy captiue Pyramus , Haue so sought , this life from boddy to vnlose : Hard were to tell the tenth , that haue it strained , With thought hereof , great wonders mée amaze : How my poore lyfe , the halfe may haue sustayned , O Thisbie mine owne , whom it only stayes . And at whose will the fates doo lend mée breath , Yet may I not the fatall stroke eschew : Ne scape the dinte of fast pursuing death , Onles your bounty , present mercy shew : And this I trust , there may no ielous thought , Haue any place within my Thisbies brest : To cause her déeme , I am or may be caught . With loue but hers wheron my life doth rest , No bée assured , for yours I onely taste : Yours was the first , and shall bée first and last , Why my most swéet ( quoth Thisbie ) then agayne : I doubt not I , but know ye are all true , Or how may cause of your vndoubted payne : With her be hyd , who hourely as it grew , None other felt , but euen what yée haue had : Yet thinke not swéet , I taste your gréefes alone , Or make estéeme , as yée of mée haue made , But ten times more , if that more wo begone , Might euer bee a wretched maydens brest , Where neuer yet , one iot of ioy might rest . Well then my ioy , ( quoth Pyrame ) since yée please , With so greater loue , to guerdon my good will : Safe am I now , but great were mine ease , If more at full , I might my fancy fill : With nearer sight , of your most pleasant face , Or if I might , your dayntie fingers straine : Or as I woont , your body once embrace , What say I ease ? nay heauen then were my gayne . Howbeit in vayne , in vayne ( ay mée ) I waste , Both worde and winde , woes mée ( alas ) therfore : For neuer shall my hart , O Thisbie taste , So great an hap , nor neuer shall wée more : In folded armes , as woont were to bewray , Eche others state , ne neuer get the grace : Of any ioy , vnlesse wée doo assay , To finde some meane for other méeting place . Beholde ( alas ) this wicked cruell wall , Whose cursed scyte , denayeth vs perfect sight : Much more the hap , of other ease at all . What if I should by force , as well one might : And yet deserues , it batter flat to ground , And open so , an issue large to make : Yet feare I sore , this sooner will redownde , To our reproche , if it I vndertake : As glad I would , then vs to helpe or ayde , Swéet hart ( quoth shee ) wherwith shée stopt his tale : This standes full yll : to purpose to be made , And time it askes , too long for to preuayle : Without suspect , to flat or batter euen , Naythlesse , yée this , or what ye can deuise : For our repayre , by thought that may be driuen , Say but the meane , I will none otherwise . Yée Thisbie mine , in sooth , and say you so ( Quoth Pyramus ) well then I doo you know : Where King Minus , lyes buried long ago , Whose auncient Tombe aboue , doth ouergrow A Mulbery , with braunches making shade , Of pleasant show , the place right large about : There if yée please , when slepe hath ouerlade , And with his might , the Cittie seas'de throughout : At the same Well , whose siluer streames then runne . And softe as silke , conserue the tender gréene : With hue so fresh , as springtied spent and dunne , No winters wéede , hath power to bée séene : Without suspect , or feare of foule report , There goddesse mine , wee salfely may resort . TO this shee said , what shée best thought , and oft and oft agayne , Was talke renued , but yet at last , for ease of euery payne : And death to eschue by other meane , who will them not forsake , At Minus Tombe , euen the same night , they do their méeting make And so depart , but fore God wot , that day doth them offend , And though but short his long abode , the feare will neuer end . And sooner doth not cloake of night , alofte his shadow cast , But Thisbie mindefull of her loue , and promis lately past Of fresh new loue , far fiercer flames , that erst her hart opprest , Shée féelth the force , and this ( alas ) deuorced stil from rest : Shée passeth forth in carefull watch , till time haue shapen so , That slepe with sweet , soft stealing steps his customd vsage do And when shée séeth both house and all drownd therin fast & déepe , With fearful pace & trimbling hand , shée forwards gins to creepe : Shee gaines the doore , out goeth she then , & neyther far ne neare , Appeareth wyght saue Phebe fayre , with gladsom seeming cheare Sole Thisbie ioyfull of this guyde , doth ay I trust it bee , Good lucke thy presence doth import , and bring at last to mee : More hardyer then before shee did , prouoke her foote to hast , No obiect giues her cause of let , till shee the towne haue past : And when shee seeth the pleasant fields in safetie to haue gayned , Then ioy therof all dread deuoures , which erst her only payned . What wil ye more , th' appointed place at length she doth attayne , Till Fortune please her loue to send , there minding to remayne : And whiles shee doth the fountayn cleare , with thoughtful hope behold And euery let , her loue may stay , vnto her selfe vnfolde . A dreadfull Lyon downe desendes , from Mountaine huge therby , With thundring pace , whose sodain sight , when Thisbie can espy : No maruel was though terror then , & straungenes of the sight , Within a simple maydens brest , all counsayle put to flight . Howbeit , though counsayle fayld , yet feare so did that place possesse , That as the tender brest , whose age no feare did yet oppresse : Now seeth his foe , with rauening Iaw , him ready to receaue , Sets winges vnto his littell legs , himselfe poore foole to saue . Euen so this Mayd , her enemy flees , vnto a hollow trée : For succor flyes , whose ruthful mone , did succor not denye : But close her keepes . The Liones fearce , that in the Mountayne wilde , Deuoured had , new slaughtred beastes , & empty belly filde : With moossell all embrude with blood , drawes to the cristal Well , Hee dranke , and in his backe returne , this fatall hap befell . Amid this way a kercheife white , which frighted Thisbie had Let fall by chaunce , as feare and haste , vnto the tree her lad : This Lion findes , and with his mouth , yet smoaking all in gore , And armid pawes it staynes with blood , and all in sunder tore . That doone away hee windes , as fier of Hell , or Vulcans thunder Blew in his tayle , or as his corps it seas'd to teare a sunder : Now Pyramus who could not earst , the wrathfull house forgo , Hath past the towne , and as hee drew the Fountayn neare vnto : The cloth hee spies , which when ( alas ) all stained so hee saw , In sunder tore , the ground about , full traste with Lyons paw : The Siluer streames with strekes of blood , besprent and troubled new , And there again that cursed trace , the woful print to shew : A sure beléefe did straight inuade , his ouerlyuing minde , That there the fatall ende ( alas ) of Thisbie was assinde : And that her dainty flesh , of beastes a pray vnmeet was made , Wherwith distrest with woodlike rage , the words he out abrade .
The lamentacion of Piramus , for the loffe of his Loue Thisbie . THis is the day wherin my irksome life , And I of lyuely breath , the last shall spend : Nor death I dread , for fled is feare , care , strife , Daunger and all , wheron they did depend : Thisbie is dead , and Pirame at his ende , For neuer shall reporte hereafter say : That Pyrame lyu'de , his Lady tane away . O soueraigne God , what straung outragious woe , Presents ( alas ) this corsiue to my hart : Ah sauage beaste , how durst thy spight vndoe , Or séeke ( woes mée ) so perfect loue to part : O Thisbie mine , that was , and only art , My liues defence , and I the cause alone : Of thy decay , and mine eternall mone . Come Lyon thou , whose rage here only shew , Aduaunce with spéede , and doo mée eke deuoure : For ruthlesse fact , so shalt thou pitty shew , And mée ( too ) heere , within thy brest restore : Where wée shall rest , togeather euermore . Ah , since thy corps , thou graues within thy wombe , Denye mée not swéet beast , the selfesame tombe . ( Alas my ioy ) thou parted art from mée , By far more cruell meane , then woonted fine : Or common law , of nature doth decrée , And that encreaseth , for woe , this gréefe of mine : Of that beautie only , which was deuine , And soueraigne most , of all that liued here : No litle signe , may found be any where , If the dead corps ( alas , did yet remayne : O great cruelty , O rage of fortune spight , More gréeuous far , then any tongue may fayne : To reue her life , and in my more despight , Mée to defraude of that my last delight : Her once t' mbrace , or yet her visage pale , To kisse full oft● , and as I should bewayle . But since from mée thou hast the meane outchast , Of this poore ioy , thy might I héere defie : For maugre thee , and all the power thou hast , In Plutoes raigne togeather will wée bée : And you my loue , since you are dead for mée , Good reason is , that I for you agayne : Receiue no lesse but euen the selfsame payne . Ah Mulberie , thou witnes of our woe , Right vnder thée assigned was , the place Of all our ioy , but thou our common foo , Consented hast , vnto her death alas : Of beauty all , that had alone the grace , And therfore as the chéefe of others all , Let men the Tree of deadly woe thée call . Graunt our great God , for honor of thy name , A guerdon of the woe , wée shall here haue : For I nill 〈◊〉 , shée dead that rulde thesame , Pronounce ( O Pluto ) from thy hollow Caue : Where stayes thy raigne , and let this trée receiue , Such sentence iust , as may a witnesse bée , Of dollour most , to all that shall it see . ANd with those wordes , his naked blade hée fiersly from his side Out drew , & through his brest , it forst with mortal wound to glide , The streames of gory blood out glush , but hée with manly hart , Careles , of death and euery payne , that death could them imparte . His Thisbies kerchéefe hard hée straines , & kist with stedfast chere And harder strainde , and ofter kist , as death him drew more nere The Mulberies whose hue before , had euer white lo béene , To blackish collour straight transformed , & black ay since are séen . And Thisbie then who all that while , had kept the hollow trée , Least hap her Louers long aboad , may séeme him mockt to bée . Shakes of all feare , and passeth foorth in hope her loue to tell , What terror great shée late was in , and wonderous case her fel : But when she doth approche that tree , whose 〈…〉 trasformed were Abasht she stands , & musing much , how 〈…〉 should appere . Her Pyramus with sights profound , and 〈…〉 that plained , Shee hard : and him a kerchefe saw , how hee bit 〈◊〉 and strained : Shee neuer drew , but when the sword , and gaping wound she saw , The anguish great , shee had therof , her caus'd to ouerthrow In deadly swoone , and to her selfe shee beeing come agayne , With pittious playnts , and deadly dole , her loue shee did complayne That doone , shee did her body leane , and on him softly lay , She kist his face , whose collour fresh , is spent and falne away : Then to the sword these woords she sayth : thou sword of bitter gall . Thou hast bereaued mee my Loue , my comfort ioy and all . With that deare blood ( woes me ) of his thy cursed blade doth shine Wherfore thinke not thou canst be free , to shed the same of mine , In life no meane , though wee it sought , vs to assemble could , Death shall , who hath already his , & mine shall straight vnfolde . And you O Gods , this last request , for ruthe yet graunt it mee , That as one death wee should receiue , one Tombe our graue may bee , With that agayn she oft him kist , & then shee speaketh thus : O Louer mine , beholde thy loue ( alas ) my Pyramus . Yet ere I dye beholde mee once , that comfort not denye , To her with thee that liu'd and lou'd , and eke with thee will dye . The Gentilman with this , and as the lastest throwes of death , Did pearce full fast at that same stroke , to end both life and breath The voice hee knows , & euen ther with , castes vp his heauy eyes , And sees his loue , hee striues to speake , but death at hand denyes . Yet loue whose might , not then was quencht in spite of death gaue strength And causde from bottom of his hart , these words to pas at length ( Alas my loue ) and liue ye yet , did not your life define , By Lyones rage the foe therof , and caus'd that this of mine Is spent and past , or as I thinke , it is your soule so deare , That seekes to ioy and honor both , my last aduenture heare . Euen with that woord , a profound sighe , from bottom of his hart , Out cast his corps and spirit of life , in sunder did depart : Then Thisbie efte , with shrike so shrill as dynned in the skye , Swaps down in swoone , shee eft reuiues , & hents the sword hereby . Wherwith beneath her pap ( alas ) into her brest shée strake , Saying thus will I die for him , that thus dyed for my sake : The purple Skarlet streames downe ran , & shee her close doth lay Unto her loue him kissing still , as life did pyne away . Lo thus they lou'd and died , and dead , one tombe them graued there , And Mulberies in signe of woe , from white to blacke turnde were . FINIS .
❧ The lamentacion of a Gentilwoman vpon the death of her late deceased frend William Gruffith Gent. A doutfull , dying , dolefull , Dame , Not fearing death , nor forcing life : Nor caring ought for flitting fame , Emongst such sturdy stormes of strife : Here doth shee mourne and write her will , Vpon her liked Louers ende : Graunt ( Muses nyne ) your sacred skill , Helpe to assist your mournfull freend : Embouldned with your Nimphish ayde , Shee will not cease , but seeke to singe : And eke employ her willing head , Her Gruffithes prayse , with ruthe to ringe . WIth Poets pen , I doo not preace to write , Mineruaes mate , I doo not boast to bée : Parnassus Mount ( I speake it for no spite ) Can cure my cursed cares , I playnly see : For why ? my hart contaynes as many woes As euer Hector did amongst his foes . Eche man doth mone , when faythfull friends do , And paynt them out , as well as wits doo serue : But I , a Mayde , am forst to vse my head , To wayle my fréend ( whose fayth ) did prayse deserue : Wit wants to will : alas ? no skill I haue , Yet must I néedes deplore my Gruffithes graue : For William , white : for Gruffith , gréene : I wore , And red , longe since did serue to please my minde : Now , blacke , I weare , of mee , not vs'd before , In liew of loue , alas ? this losse I finde : Now must I leaue , both , White , and Gréene , and Red , And wayle my fréend , who is but lately dead . Yet hurtfull eyes , doo bid mée cast away , In open show , this carefull blacke attyre : Because it would , my secret loue bewray , And pay my pate , with hatred for my hyre : Though outwardly , I dare not weare thesame , Yet in my hart , a web of blacke I frame . You Ladyes all , that passe not for no payne , But haue your louers lodged in your laps : I craue your aydes , to helpe mee mourne amayne , Perhaps your selues , shall feele such carefull claps : Which ( God forbid ) that any Lady taste , Who shall by mee but only learne to waste . My wits be weake an Epitaphe to write , Because it doth require a grauer stile : My phrase doth serue but rudely to recite , How Louers losse doth pinch mee all this while : Who was as prest to dye for Gruffithes sake , As Damon , did for Pithias vndertake . But William had a worldly freend in store , Who writ his end to small effect ( God knowes ) But I. and H. his name did show no more , Rime Ruffe it is , the common sentence goes , It hangs at Pawles as euery man goes by , One ryme too low , an other rampes too hye . Hée prays'd him out 〈…〉 doo vse , And vttered all the 〈◊〉 that God had sent : But I ? am shée that neuer will refuse , But as I am , so will I still bee bent : No blastes shall blow , my lincked loue awry , Oh? would the Gods , with Gruffith I might dye . Then had it been that I poore silly Dame , Had , had no neede to blot this scratched scroule : Then Virgins fist , had not set forth the fame , How God hath gripte , my Gruffithes sacred soule : But wee is mée , I liue in pinching payne , No wight doth know , what sorowes I sustayne . Unhappy may that drowsie day bée nam'd , Wherin I first , possest my vitall breath : And eke I wish , that day that I was fram'd , In stead of life I had receiued death : Then with these woes , I needed not to waste , Which now ( alas ) in euery vayne I taste . Some Zoylus sot , will thinke it lightly doone , Because I mone , my mate , and louer , so Some Momus match , this scroule will ouerronne , But loue is lawlesse , euery wight doth know : Sith loue doth lend mee such a freendly scope , Disdaynfull dogs I may despise ( I hope ) Wherfore I doo , attempt so much the more , By this good hope , to shew my slender arte : And mourne I must ( who ) neuer marckt before , What fretting force doo holde eche heauy hart : But now I see that Gruffithes greedy graue , Doth make mee feele , the fits which louers haue . My mournfull Muse , ( good Ladyes ) take in worth , And spare to speake the worst , but iudge the best : For this is all , that I dare publish forth , The rest recorded is , within my brest : And there is lodg'd , for euer to remayne , Till God doth graunt ( by death ) to ease my payne . And when that death is 〈…〉 With all the paynes , that 〈…〉 Yet to my Gruffith , will I 〈…〉 Hap death , holde life , my 〈…〉 Before I will our secret loue 〈…〉 To Tantals paynes , my body I dispise So liue I shall , when death hath spit her spight , And Lady ( Fame ) will spread my prayse I know : And Cupids Knights , will neuer cease to write , And cause my name , through ( Europe ) for to flow : And they that know what ( Cupid ) can preuayle , Will blesse the ship , that floates with such a sayle . If I had part of Pallas learned skill , Or if ( Caliope ) would lend her ayde : By tracte of time , great volumes I would fill , My Gruffithes prayse in wayling verse to spread : But ( I poore I ) as I haue sayd before , Doo wayle , to want , Mineruaes learned lore . By helpe ( I hope ) these ragged rymes shall goe , Entituled as louers lyues should bee : And scape the chyding chaps of euery foe , To prayse that man , who was best likte of mee : Though death hath shapte , his most vntimely end , Yet for his prayse , my tristiue tunes I send . In hope , the Gods who guide the heauens aboue , His buryed corps , aliue agayne will make : And haue remorce of Ladyes lincked loue , As once they did for good Admetus sake : Or change him els , into some flower to weare , As erst they did , transforme Narscissus fayre . So should I then , possesse my former freend , Restor'd to lyfe , as Alcest was from Hell , Or els the Gods , some flagrant flower would send , Which for his sake , I might both weare and smell : Which flower , out of my hand shall neuer passe , But in my harte , shall haue a sticking place . But wo is mee , 〈…〉 in 〈…〉 Adue delight ? come 〈…〉 To bluntish blockes ( I see ) I doo to be playne , And reape but onely sorrow for my share : For wel I know that Gods nor sprites can cure , The paynes that I for Gruffith doo endure . Since wayling , no way can remedy mee , To make an ende , I therfore iudge it best : And drinke vp all , my sorrow secretly , And as I can , I will abide the rest : And sith I dare not mourne , to open showe , With secret sighes and teares , my hart shall flow . Some busie brayne , perhaps will aske my name , Disposed much , some tidings for to marke : That dare I not ? for feare of flying fame , And eke I feare least byting bugs will barke : Therfore farewell , and aske no more of mee , For ( as I am ) a Louer will I dye . FINIS .