Complaints Containing sundrie small poemes of the worlds vanitie. VVhereof the next page maketh mention. By Ed. Sp.

Complaints . Containing sundrie small Poemes of the Worlds Vanitie .

Whereof the next Page maketh mention .

By ED. SP.

LONDON . Imprinted for William Ponsonbie , dwelling in Paules Churchyard at the signe of the Bishops head .

1591.

A note of the sundrie Poemes contained in this Volume . 1 The Ruines of Time . 2 The Teares of the Muses . 3 Virgils Gnat. 4 Prosopopoia , or Mother Hubberds Tale . 5 The Ruines of Rome : by Bellay . 6 Muiopotmos , or The Tale of the Butterflie . 7 Visions of the Worlds vanitie . 8 Bellayes visions . 9 Petrarches visions .

The Printer to the Gentle Reader .

SINCE my late setting foorth of the Faerie Queene , finding that it hath found a fauourable passage amongst you ; I haue sithence endeuoured by all good meanes ( for the better encrease and accomplishment of your delights , ) to get into my handes such smale Poemes of the same Authors ; as I heard were disperst abroad in sundrie hands , and not easie to bee come by , by himselfe ; some of them hauing bene diuerslie imbeziled and purloyned from him , since his departure ouer Sea . Of the which I haue by good meanes gathered togeather these fewe parcels present , which I haue caused to bee imprinted altogeather , for that they al seeme to containe like matter of argument in them : being all complaints and meditations of the worlds vanitie ; verie graue and profitable . To which effect I vnderstand that he besides wrote sundrie others , namelie Ecclesiastes , & Canticum canticorum translated , A senights slumber , The hell of louers , his Purgatorie , being all dedicated to Ladies ; so as it may seeme he ment them all to one volume . Besides some other Pamphlets looselie scattered abroad : as The dying Pellican , The howers of the Lord , The sacrifice of a sinner , The seuen Psalmes , &c. which when I can either by himselfe , or otherwise attaine too , I meane likewise for your fauour sake to set foorth . In the meane time praying you gentlie to accept of these , & graciouslie to entertaine the new Poet. I take leaue .

Dedicated To the right Noble and beautifull Ladie , the La. Marie Countesse of Pembrooke .

MOST Honourable and bountifull Ladie , there bee long sithens deepe sowed in my brest , the seede of most entire loue & humble affection vnto that most braue Knight your noble brother deceased ; which taking roote began in his life time somewhat to bud forth : and to shew themselues to him , as then in the weakenes of their first spring : And would in their riper strength ( had it pleased high God till then to drawe out his daies ) spired forth fruit of more perfection . But since God hath disdeigned the world of that most noble Spirit , which was the hope of all learned men , and the Patron of my young Muses ; togeather with him both their hope of anie further fruit was cut off : and also the tender delight of those their first blossoms nipped and quite dead . Yet sithens my late cumming into England , some frends of mine ( which might much preuaile with me , and indeede commaund me ) knowing with howe straight bandes of duetie I was tied to him : as also bound vnto that noble house , ( of which the chiefe hope then rested in him ) haue sought to reuiue them by vpbraiding me : for that I haue not shewed anie thankefull remembrance towards him or any of them ; but suffer their names to sleep in silence and forgetfulnesse . Whome chieflie to satisfie , or els to auoide that fowle blot of vnthankefulnesse , I haue conceiued this small Poeme , intituled by a generall name of the worlds Ruines : yet speciallie intended to the renowming of that noble race , from which both you and he sprong , and to the eternizing of some of the chiefe of them late deceased . The which I dedicate vnto your La. as whome it most speciallie concerneth : and to whome I acknowledge my selfe bounden , by manie singular fauours & great graces . I pray for your Honourable happinesse : & so humblie kisse your haudes .

Your Ladiships euer humblie at commaund . E. S.

The Ruines of Time . IT chaunced me on day beside the shore Of siluer streaming Thamesis to bee , Nigh where the goodly Verlame stood of yore , Of which there now remaines no memorie , Nor anie little moniment to see , By which the trauailer , that fares that way , This once was she , may warned be to say . There on the other side , I did behold A Woman sitting sorrowfullie wailing , Rending her yeolow locks , like wyrie golde , About her shoulders careleslie downe trailing , And streames of teares from her faire eyes forth railing . In her right hand a broken rod she held , Which towards heauen shee seemd on high to weld . Whether she were one of that Riuers Nymphes , Which did the losse of some dere loue lament , I doubt ; or one of those three fatall Impes , Which draw the dayes of men forth in extent ; Or th' auncient Genius of that Citie brent : But seeing her so piteouslie perplexed , I ( to her calling ) askt what her so vexed . Ah what delight ( quoth she ) in earthlie thing , Or comfort can I wretched creature haue ? Whose happines the heauens enuying , From highest staire to lowest step me draue , And haue in mine owne bowels made my graue , That of all Nations now I am forlorne , The worlds sad spectacle , and fortunes scorne . Much was I mooued at her piteous plaint , And felt my heart nigh riuen in my brest With tender ruth to see her sore constraint , That shedding teares a while I still did rest , And after did her name of her request . Name haue I none ( quoth she ) nor anie being , Bereft of both by Fates vniust decreeing . I was that Citie , which the garland wore Of Britaines pride , deliuered vnto me By Romane Victors , which it wonne of yore ; Though nought at all but ruines now I bee , And lye in mine owne ashes , as ye see : Verlame I was ; what bootes it that I was , Sith now I am but weedes and wastfull gras ? O vaine worlds glorie , and vnstedfast state Of all that liues , on face of sinfull earth , Which from their first vntill their vtmost date Tast no one hower of happines or merth , But like as at the ingate of their berth , They crying creep out of their mothers woomb , So wailing backe go to their wofull toomb . Why then dooth flesh , a bubble glas of breath , Hunt after honour and aduauncement vaine , And reare a trophee for deuouring death , With so great labour and long lasting paine , As if his daies for euer should remaine ? Sith all that in this world is great or gaie , Doth as a vapour vanish , and decaie . Looke backe , who list , vnto the former ages , And call to count , what is of them become : Where be those learned wits and antique Sages , Which of all wisedome knew the perfect somme : Where those great warriors , which did ouercomme The world with conquest of their might and maine , And made one meare of th' earth & of their raine ? What nowe is of th' Assyrian Lyonesse , Of whome no footing now on earth appeares ? What of the Persian Beares outragiousnesse , Whose memorie is quite worne out with yeares ? Who of the Grecian Libbard now ought heares , That ouerran the East with greedie powre , And left his whelps their kingdomes to deuoure ? And where is that same great seuen headded beast , That made all nations vassals of her pride , To fall before her feete at her beheast , And in the necke of all the world did ride ? Where doth she all that wondrous welth nowe hide ? With her own weight down pressed now shee lies , And by her heaps her hugenesse testifies . O Rome thy ruine I lament and rue , And in thy fall my fatall ouerthrowe , That whilom was , whilst heauens with equall vewe Deignd to behold me , and their gifts bestowe , The picture of thy pride in pompous shew : And of the whole world as thou wast the Empresse , So I of this small Northerne world was Princesse , To tell the beawtie of my buildings fayre , Adornd with purest golde , and precious stone ; To tell my riches , and endowments rare That by my foes are now all spent and gone : To tell my forces matchable to none , Were but lost labour , that few would beleeue , And with rehearsing would me more agreeue . High towers , faire temples , goodly theaters , Strong walls , rich porches , princelie pallaces , Large streetes , braue houses , sacred sepulchers , Sure gates , sweete gardens , stately galleries , Wrought with faire pillours , and fine imageries , All those ( ô pitie ) now are turnd to dust , And ouergrowen with blacke Obliuions rust . Theretoo for warlike power , and peoples store , In Britannie was none to match with mee ; That manie often did abie full sore : Ne Troynouant , though elder sister shee , With my great forces might compared bee ; That stout Pendragon to his perill felt , Who in a siege seauen yeres about me dwelt . But long ere this Bunduca Britonnesse Her mightie hoast against my bulwarkes brought , Bunduca , that victorious conqueresse , That lifting vp her braue heroïck thought Boue womens weaknes , with the Romanes fought , Fought , and in field against them thrice preuailed : Yet was she foyld , when as she me assailed . And though at last by force I conquered were Of hardie Saxons , and became their thrall ; Yet was I with much bloodshed bought full deere , And prizde with slaughter of their Generall : The moniment of whose sad funerall , For wonder of the world , long in me lasted ; But now to nought through spoyle of time is wasted . Wasted it is , as if it neuer were , And all the rest that me so honord made , And of the world admired eu'rie where , Is turnd to smoake , that doth to nothing fade ; And of that brightnes now appeares no shade , But greislie shades , such as doo haunt in hell With fearfull fiends , that in deep darknes dwell . Where my high steeples whilom vsde to stand , On which the lordly Faulcon wont to towre , There now is but an heap of lyme and sand , For the Shriche-owle to build her balefull bowre : And where the Nightingale wont forth to powre Her restles plaints , to comfort wakefull Louers , There now haunt yelling Mewes & whining Plouers . And where the christall Thamis wont to slide In siluer channell , downe along the Lee , About whose flowrie bankes on either side A thousand Nymphes , with mirthfull iollitee Were wont to play , from all annoyance free ; There now no riuers course is to be seene , But moorish fennes , and marshes euer greene . Seemes , that that gentle Riuer for great griefe Of my mishaps , which oft I to him plained ; Or for to shunne the horrible mischiefe , With which he saw my cruell foes me pained , And his pure streames with guiltles blood oft stained , From my vnhappie neighborhood farre fled , And his sweete waters away with him led . There also where the winged ships were seene In liquid waues to cut their fomie waie , And thousand Fishers numbred to haue been , In that wide lake looking for plenteous praie Of fish , which they with baits vsde to betraie , Is now no lake , nor anie fishers store , Nor euer ship shall saile there anie more , They all are gone , and all with them is gone , Ne ought to me remaines , but to lament My long decay , which no man els doth mone , And mourne my fall with dolefull dreriment . Yet it is comfort in great languishment , To be bemoned with compassion kinde , And mitigates the anguish of the minde . But me no man bewaileth , but in game , Ne sheddeth teares from lamentable eie : Nor anie liues that mentioneth my name To be remembred of posteritie , Saue One that maugre fortunes iniurie , And times decay , and enuies cruell tort , Hath writ my record in true-seeming sort . Cambden the nourice of antiquitie , And lanterne vnto late succeeding age , To see the light of simple veritie , Buried in ruines , through the great outrage Of her owne people , led with warlike rage , Cambden , though time all moniments obscure , Yet thy iust labours euer shall endure , But whie ( vnhappie wight ) doo I thus crie , And grieue that my remembrance quite is raced Out of the knowledge of posteritie , And all my antique moniments defaced ? Sith I doo dailie see things highest placed , So soone as fates their vitall thred haue shorne , Forgotten quite as they were neuer borne . It is not long , since these two eyes beheld A mightie Prince , of most renowmed race , Whom England high in count of honour held , And greatest ones did sue to gaine his grace ; Of greatest ones he greatest in his place , Sate in the bosome of his Soueraine , And Right and loyall did his word maintaine . I saw him die , I saw him die , as one Of the meane people , and brought foorth on beare , I saw him die , and no man left to mone His dolefull fate , that late him loued deare : Scarse anie left to close his eylids neare ; Scarse anie left vpon his lips to laie The sacred sod , or Requiem to saie . O trustlesse state of miserable men , That builde your blis on hope of earthly thing , And vainly thinke your selues halfe happie then , When painted faces with smooth flattering Doo fawne on you , and your wide praises sing , And when the courting masker louteth lowe , Him true in heart and trustie to you trow . All is but fained , and with oaker dide , That euerie shower will wash and wipe away , All things doo change that vnder heauen abide , And after death all friendship doth decaie . Therefore what euer man bearst worldlie sway , Liuing , on God , and on thy selfe relie ; For when thou diest , all shall with thee die . He now is dead , and all is with him dead , Saue what in heauens store house he vplaid : His hope is faild , and come to passe his dread , And euill men now dead , his deeds vpbraid : Spite bites the dead , that liuing neuer baid . He now is gone , the whiles the Foxe is crept Into the hole , the which the Badger swept . He now is dead , and all his glorie gone , And all his greatnes vapoured to nought , That as a glasse vpon the water shone , Which vanisht quite , so soone as it was sought : His name is worne alreadie out of thought , Ne anie Poet seekes him to reuiue ; Yet manie Poets honourd him aliue . Ne doth his Colin , carelesse Colin Cloute , Care now his idle bagpipe vp to raise , Ne tell his sorrow to the listning rout Of shepherd groomes , which wont his songs to praise : Praise who so list , yet I will him dispraise , Vntill he quite him of this guiltie blame : Wake shepheards boy , at length awake for shame . And who so els did goodnes by him gaine , And who so els his bounteous minde did trie , Whether he shepheard be , or shepheards swaine , ( For manie did , which doo it now denie ) Awake , and to his Song a part applie : And I , the whilest you mourne for his decease , Will with my mourning plaints your plaint increase . He dyde , and after him his brother dyde , His brother Prince , his brother noble Peere , That whilste he liued , was of none enuyde , And dead is now , as liuing , counted deare , Deare vnto all that true affection beare : But vnto thee most deare , ô dearest Dame , His noble Spouse , and Paragon of fame . He whilest he liued , happie was through thee , And being dead is happie now much more ; Liuing , that lincked chaunst with thee to bee , And dead , because him dead thou dost adore As liuing , and thy lost deare loue deplore . So whilst that thou , faire flower of chastitie , Dost liue , by thee thy Lord shall neuer die . Thy Lord shall neuer die , the whiles this verse Shall liue , and surely it shall liue for euer : For euer it shall liue , and shall rehearse His worthie praise , and vertues dying neuer , Though death his soule doo from his bodie seuer . And thou thy selfe herein shalt also liue ; Such grace the heauens doo to my verses giue , Ne shall his sister , ne thy father die , Thy father , that good Earle of rare renowne , And noble Patrone of weake pouertie ; Whose great good deeds in countrey and in towne Haue purchast him in heauen an happie crowne ; Where he now liueth in eternall blis , And left his sonne t' ensue those steps of his . He noble bud , his Grandsires liuelie hayre , Vnder the shadow of thy countenaunce Now ginnes to shoote vp fast , and flourish fayre In learned artes and goodlie gouernaunce , That him to highest honour shall aduaunce . Braue Impe of Bedford , grow apace in bountie , And count of wisedome more than of thy Countie . Ne may I let thy husbands sister die , That goodly Ladie , sith she eke did spring Out of this stocke , and famous familie , Whose praises I to future age doo sing , And foorth out of her happie womb did bring The sacred brood of learning and all honour ; In whom the heauens powrde all their gifts vpon her . Most gentle spirite breathed from aboue , Out of the bosome of the makers blis , In whom all bountie and all vertuous loue Appeared in their natiue propertis , And did enrich that noble breast of his , With treasure passing all this worldes worth , Worthie of heauen it selfe , which brought it forth . His blessed spirite full of power diuine And influence of all celestiall grace , Loathing this sinfull earth and earthlie slime , Fled backe too soone vnto his natiue place , Too soone for all that did his loue embrace , Too soone for all this wretched world , whom he Robd of all right and true nobilitie . Yet ere his happie soule to heauen went Out of this fleshlie goale , he did deuise Vnto his heauenlie maker to present His bodie , as a spotles sacrifise ; And chose , that guiltie hands of enemies Should powre forth th' offring of his guiltles blood : So life exchanging for his countries good . O noble spirite , liue there euer blessed , The worlds late wonder , and the heauens new ioy , Liue euer there , and leaue me here distressed With mortall cares , and cumbrous worlds anoy . But where thou dost that happines enioy , Bid me , ô bid me quicklie come to thee , That happie there I maie thee alwaies see . Yet whilest the fates affoord me vitall breath , I will it spend in speaking of thy praise , And sing to thee , vntill that timelie death By heauens doome doo ende my earthlie daies : Thereto doo thou my humble spirite raise , And into me that sacred breath inspire , Which thou there breathest perfect and entire . Then will I sing , but who can better sing , Than thine owne sister , peerles Ladie bright , Which to thee sings with deep harts sorrowing , Sorrowing tempered with deare delight , That her to heare I feele my feeble spright Robbed of sense , and rauished with ioy , O sad ioy made of mourning and anoy . Yet will I sing , but who can better sing , Than thou thy selfe , thine owne selfes valiance , That whilest thou liuedst , madest the forrests ring , And fields resownd , and flockes to leap and daunce , And shepheards leaue their lambs vnto mischaunce , To runne thy shrill Arcadian Pipe to heare : O happie were those dayes , thrice happie were . But now more happie thou , and wetched wee , Which want the wonted sweetnes of thy voice , Whiles thou now in Elisian fields so free , With Orpheus , and with Linus , and the choice Of all that euer did in rimes reioyce , Conuersest , and doost heare their heauenlie layes , And they heare thine , and thine doo better praise . So there thou liuest , singing euermore , And here thou liuest , being euer song Of vs , which liuing loued thee afore , And now thee worship , mongst that blessed throng Of heauenlie Poets and Heroes strong . So thou both here and there immortall art , And euerie where through excellent desart . But such as neither of themselues can sing , Nor yet are sung of others for reward , Die in obscure obliuion , as the thing Which neuer was , ne euer with regard Their names shall of the later age be heard , But shall in rustie darknes euer lie , Vnles they mentiond be with infamie . What booteth it to haue been rich aliue ? What to be great ? what to be gracious ? When after death no token doth suruiue , Of former being in this mortall hous , But sleepes in dust dead and inglorious , Like beast , whose breath but in his nostrels is , And hath no hope of happinesse or blis . How manie great ones may remembred be , Which in their daies most famouslie did florish ; Of whome no word we heare , nor signe now see , But as things wipt out with a sponge to perishe , Because they liuing , cared not to cherishe No gentle wits , through pride or couertize , Which might their names for euer memorize . Prouide therefore ( ye Princes ) whilst ye liue , That of the Muses ye may friended bee , Which vnto men eternitie do giue ; For they be daughters of Dame memorie , And Ioue the father of eternitie , And do those men in golden thrones repose , Whose merits they to glorifie do chose . The seuen fold yron gates of grislie Hell , And horrid house of sad Proserpina , They able are with power of mightie spell To breake , and thence the soules to bring awaie Out of dread darkenesse , to eternall day , And them immortall make , which els would die In foule forgetfulnesse , and nameles lie . So whilome raised they the puissant brood Of golden girt Alcmena , for great merite , Out of the dust , to which the Oetaean wood Had him consum'd , and spent his vitall spirite : To highest heauen , where now he doth inherite All happinesse in Hebes siluer bowre , Chosen to be her dearest Paramoure . So raisde they eke faire Ledaes warlick twinnes , And interchanged life vnto them lent , That when th' one dies , th' other then beginnes To shew in Heauen his brightnes orient ; And they , for pittie of the sad wayment , Which Orpheus for Eurydice did make , Her back againe to life sent for his sake . So happie are they , and so fortunate , Whom the Pierian sacred sisters loue , That freed from bands of impacable fate , And power of death , they liue for aye aboue , Where mortall wreakes their blis may not remoue : But with the Gods , for former vertues meede , On Nectar and Ambrosia do feede . For deeds doe die , how euer noblie donne , And thoughts of men do as themselues decay , But wise wordes taught in numbers for to runne , Recorded by the Muses , liue for ay ; Ne may with storming showers be washt away , Ne bitter breathing windes with harmfull blast , Nor age , nor enuie shall them euer wast . In vaine doo earthly Princes then , in vaine Seeke with Pyramides , to heauen aspired ; Or huge Colosses , built with costlie paine ; Or brasen Pillours , neuer to be fired , Or Shrines , made of the mettall most desired ; To make their memories for euer liue : For how can mortall immortalitie giue . Such one Mansolus made , the worlds great wonder , But now no remnant doth thereof remaine : Such one Marcellus , but was torne with thunder : Such one Lisippus , but is worne with raine : Such one King Edmond , but was rent for gaine . All such vaine moniments of earthlie masse , Deuour'd of Time , in time to nought doo passe . But fame with golden wings aloft doth flie , Aboue the reach of ruinous decay , And with braue plumes doth beate the azure skie , Admir'd of base-borne men from farre away : Then who so will with vertuous deeds assay To mount to heauen , on Pegasus must ride , And with sweete Poets verse be glorifide . For not to haue been dipt in Lethe lake , Could saue the sonne of Thetis from to die ; But that blinde bard did him immortall make With verses , dipt in deaw of Castalie : Which made the Easterne Conquerour to crie , O fortunate yong-man , whose vertue found So braue a Trompe , thy noble acts to sound . Therefore in this halfe happie I doo read Good Melibae , that hath a Poet got , To sing his liuing praises being dead , Deseruiug neuer here to be forgot , In spight of enuie , that his deeds would spot : Since whose decease , learning lies vnregarded , And men of armes doo wander vnrewarded . Those two be those two great calamities , That long agoe did grieue the noble spright Of Salomon with great indignities ; Who whilome was aliue the wisest wight . But now his wisedome is disprooued quite ; For he that now welds all things at his will , Scorns th' one and th' other in his deeper skill . O griefe of griefes , ô gall of all good heartes , To see that vertue should dispised bee Of him , that first was raisde for vertuous parts , And now broad spreading like an aged tree , Let s none shoot vp , that nigh him planted bee : O let the man , of whom the Muse is scorned , Nor aliue , nor dead be of the Muse adorned . O vile worlds trust , that with such vaine illusion Hath so wise men bewitcht , and ouerkest , That they see not the way of their confusion , O vainesse to be added to the rest , That do my soule with inward griefe infest : Let them behold the piteous fall of mee : And in my case their owne ensample see . And who so els that sits in highest seate Of this worlds glorie , worshipped of all , Ne feareth change of time , nor fortunes threate , Let him behold the horror of my fall , And his owne end vnto remembrance call ; That of like ruine he may warned bee , And in himselfe be moou'd to pittie mee . Thus hauing ended all her piteous plaint , With dolefull shrikes shee vanished away , That I through inward sorrowe wexen faint , And all astonished with deepe dismay , For her departure , had no word to say : But sate long time in sencelesse sad affright , Looking still , if I might of her haue sight . Which when I missed , hauing looked long , My thought returned greeued home againe , Renewing her complaint with passion strong , For ruth of that same womans piteous paine ; Whose wordes recording in my troubled braine , I felt such anguish wound my feeble heart , That frosen horror ran through euerie part . So inlie greeuing in my groning brest , And deepelie muzing at her doubtfull speach , Whose meaning much I labored foorth to wreste , Being aboue my slender reasons reach ; At length by demonstration me to teach , Before mine eies strange sights presented were , Like tragicke Pageants seeming to appeare . 1 I saw an Image , all of massie gold , Placed on high vpon an Altare faire , That all , which did the same from farre beholde , Might worship it , and fall on lowest staire . Not that great Idoll might with this compaire , To which th' Assyrian tyrant would haue made The holie brethren , falslie to haue praid , But th' altare , on the which this Image staid , Was ( ô great pitie ) built of brickle clay , That shortly the foundation decaid , With showres of heauen and tempests worne away , Then downe it fell , and low in ashes lay , Scorned of euerie one , which by it went ; That I it seing , dearelie did lament . 2 Next vnto this a statelie Towre appeared , Built all of richest stone , that might bee found , And nigh vnto the Heauens in height vpreared , But placed on a plot of sandie ground : Not that great Towre , which is so much renownd For tongues confusion in holie writ , King Ninus worke might be compar'd to it . But ô vaine labours of terrestriall wit , That buildes so stronglie on so frayle a soyle , As with each storme does fall away , and flit , And giues the fruit of all your trauailes toyle , To be the pray of Tyme , and Fortunes spoyle : I saw this Towre fall sodainlie to dust , That nigh with griefe thereof my heart was brust . 3 Then did I see a pleasant Paradize , Full of sweete flowres and daintiest delights , Such as on earth man could not more deuize , With pleasures choyce to feed his cheerefull sprights : Not that , which Merlin by his Magicke flights Made for the gentle squire , to entertaine His fayre Belphoebe , could this gardine staine . But ô short pleasure bought with lasting paine , Why will hereafter anie flesh delight In earthlie blis , and ioy in pleasures vaine , Since that I sawe this gardine wasted quite , That where it was scarce seemed anie sight ? That I , which once that beautie did beholde , Could not from teares my melting eyes with-holde . 4 Soone after this a Giaunt came in place , Of wondrous power , and of exceeding stature , That none durst vewe the horror of his face , Yet was he milde of speach , and meeke of nature Not he , which in despight of his Creatour With railing tearmes defied the Iewish hoast , Might with this mightie one in hugenes boast . For from the one he could to th' other coast , Stretch his strong thighes , and th' Occaean ouerstride , And reatch his hand into his enemies hoast . But see the end of pompe and fleshlie pride ; One of his feete vnwares from him did slide , That downe hee fell into the deepe Abisse , Where drownd with him is all his earthlie blisse . 5 Then did I see a Bridge , made all of golde , Ouer the Sea from one to other side , Withouten prop or pillour it t' vpholde , But like the coulored Rainbowe arched wide : Not that great Arche , with Traian edifide , To be a wonder to all age ensuing , Was matchable to this in equall vewing . But ( ah ) what bootes it to see earthlie thing In glorie , or in greatnes to excell , Sith time doth greatest things to ruine bring ? This goodlie bridge , one foote not fastned well , Gan faile , and all the rest downe shortlie fell , Ne of so braue a building ought remained , That griefe thereof my spirite greatly pained . 6 I saw two Beares , as white as anie milke , Lying together in a mightie caue , Of milde aspect , and haire as soft as silke , That saluage nature seemed not to haue , Nor after greedie spoyle of blood to craue : Two fairer beasts might not elswhere be found , Although the compast world were sought around . But what can long abide aboue this ground In state of blis , or stedfast happinesse ? The Caue , in which these Beares lay sleeping sound , Was but earth , and with her owne weightinesse Vpon them fell , and did vnwares oppresse , That for great sorrow of their sudden fate , Henceforth all words felicitie I hate . ¶ Much was I troubled in my heauie spright , At sight of these sad spectacles forepast , That all my senses were bereaued quight , And I in minde remained sore agast , Distraught twixt feare and pitie ; when at last I heard a voyce , which loudly to me called , That with the suddein shrill I was appalled . Behold ( said it ) and by ensample see , That all is vanitie and griefe of minde , Ne other comfort in this world can be , But hope of heauen , and heart to God inclinde ; For all the rest must needs be left behinde : With that it bad me , to the other side To cast mine eye , where other sights I spide ? 1 ¶ Vpon that famous Riuers further shore , There stood a snowie Swan of heauenly hiew , And gentle kinde , as euer Fowle afore ; A fairer one in all the goodlie criew Of white Strimonian brood might no man view : There he most sweetly sung the prophecie Of his owne death in dolefull Elegie . At last , when all his mourning melodie He ended had , that both the shores resounded , Feeling the fit that him forewarnd to die , With loftie flight aboue the earth he bounded , And out of sight to highest heauen mounted : Where now he is become an heauenly signe ; There now the ioy is his , here sorrow mine . 2 Whilest thus I looked , loe adowne the Lee , I sawe an Harpe stroong all with siluer twyne , And made of golde and costlie yuorie , Swimming , that whilome seemed to haue been The harpe , on which Dan Orpheus was seene Wylde beasts and forrests after him to lead , But was th' Harpe of Philisides now dead . At length out of the Riuer it was reard And borne aboue the cloudes to be diuin'd , Whilst all the way most heauenly noyse was heard Of the strings , stirred with the warbling wind , That wrought both ioy and sorrow in my mind : So now in heauen a signe it doth appeare , The Harpe well knowne beside the Northern Beare . 3 Soone after this I saw on th' other side , A curious Coffer made of Heben wood , That in it did most precious treasure hide , Exceeding all this baser worldes good : Yet through the ouerflowing of the flood It almost drowned was , and done to nought , That sight thereof much grieu'd my pensiue thought . At length when most in perill it was brought , Two Angels downe descending with swift flight , Out of the swelling streame it lightly caught , And twixt their blessed armes it carried quight Aboue the reach of anie liuing sight : So now it is transform'd into that starre , In which all heauenly treasures locked are . 4 Looking aside I saw a stately Bed , Adorned all with costly cloth of gold , That might for anie Princes couche be red , And deckt with daintie flowres , as if it shold Be for some bride , her ioyous night to hold : Therein a goodly Virgine sleeping lay : A fairer wight saw neuer summers day . I heard a voyce that called farre away And her awaking bad her quickly dight , For lo her Bridegrome was in readie ray To come to her , and seeke her loues delight : With that she started vp with cherefull sight , When suddeinly both bed and all was gone , And I in languor left there all alone . 5 Still as I gazed , I beheld where stood A Knight all arm'd , vpon a winged steed , The same that was bred of Medusaes blood , On which Dan Perseus borne of heauenly seed , The faire Andromeda from perill freed : Full mortally this Knight ywounded was , That streames of blood foorth flowed on the gras . Yet was he deckt ( small ioy to him alas ) With manie garlands for his victories , And with rich spoyles , which late he did purchas Through braue atcheiuements from his enemies : Fainting at last through long infirmities , He smote his steed , that straight to heauen him bore , And left me here his losse for to deplore . 6 Lastly I saw an Arke of purest golde Vpon a brazen pillour standing hie , Which th' ashes seem'd of some great Prince to hold , Enclosde therein for endles memorie Of him , whom all the world did glorifie : Seemed the heauens with the earth did disagree , Whether should of those ashes keeper bee . At last me seem'd wing footed Mercurie , From heauen descending to appease their strife , The Arke did beare with him aboue the skie , And to those ashes gaue a second life , To liue in heauen , where happines is rife : At which the earth did grieue exceedingly , And I for dole was almost like to die . L : Envoy . Immortall spirite of Philisides , Which now art made the heauens ornament , That whilome wast the worlds chiefst riches ; Giue leaue to him that lou'de thee to lament His losse , by lacke of thee to heauen hent , And with last duties of this broken verse , Broken with sighes , to decke thy sable Herse . And ye faire Ladie th' honor of your daies , And glorie of the world , your high thoughts scorne ; Vouchsafe this moniment of his last praise , With some few siluer dropping teares t' adorne : And as ye be of heauenlie off-spring borne , So vnto heauen let your high minde aspire , And loath this drosse of sinfull worlds desire . FINIS .

THE Teares of the Muses .

By ED. SP.

LONDON . Imprinted for William Ponsonbie , dwelling in Paules Churchyard at the signe of the Bishops head .

1591.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE the Ladie Strange .

MOst braue and noble Ladie , the things that make ye so much honored of the world as ye bee , are such , as ( without my simple lines testimonie ) are throughlie knowen to all men ; namely , your excellent beautie , your vertuous behauior , & your noble match with that most honourable Lord the verie Paterne of right Nobilitie : But the causes for which ye haue thus deserued of me to be honoured ( if honour it be at all ) are , both your particular bounties , and also some priuate bands of affinitie , which it hath pleased your Ladiship to acknowledge . Of which when as I found my selfe in no part worthie , I deuised this last slender meanes , both to intimate my humble affection to your Ladiship and also to make the same vniuersallie knowen to the world ; that by honouring you they might know me , and by knowing me they might honor you . Vouch safe noble Lady to accept this simple remembrance , thogh not worthy of your self , yet such , as perhaps by good acceptance therof , ye may hereafter cull out a more meet & memorable euidence of your own excellent deserts . So recommending the same to your Ladiships good liking , I humbly take leaue .

Your La: humbly euer . Ed. Sp

The Teares of the Muses . REhearse to me ye sacred Sisters nine : The golden brood of great Apolloes wit , Those piteous plaints and sorowfull sad tine , Which late ye powred forth as ye did sit Beside the siluer Springs of Helicone , Making your musick of hart-breaking mone . For since the time that Phoebus foolish sonne Ythundered through Ioues auengefull wrath , For trauersing the charret of the Sunne Beyond the compasse of his pointed path , Of you his mournfull Sisters was lamented , Such mournfull tunes were neuer since inuented . Nor since that faire Calliope did lose Her loued Twinnes , the dearlings of her ioy , Her Palici , whom her vnkindly foes The fatall Sisters , did for spight destroy , Whom all the Muses did bewaile long space ; Was euer heard such wayling in this place . For all their groues , which with the heauenly noyses Of their sweete instruments were wont to sound , And th' hollow hills , from which their siluer voyces Were wont redoubled Echoes to rebound , Did now rebound with nought but rufull cries , And yelling shrieks throwne vp into the skies . The trembling streames which wont in chanels cleare To romble gently downe with murmur soft , And were by them right tunefull taught to beare A Bases part amongst their consorts oft ; Now forst to ouerflowe with brackish teares , With troublous noyse did dull their daintie eares . The ioyous Nymphes and lightfoote Faeries Which thether came to heare their musick sweet , And to the measure of their melodies Did learne to moue their nimble shifting feete ; Now hearing them so heauily lament , Like heauily lamenting from them went . And all that els was wont to worke delight Through the diuine infusion of their skill , And all that els seemd faire and fresh in sight , So made by nature for to serue their will , Was turned now to dismall heauinesse , Was turned now to dreadfull vglinesse . Ay me , what thing on earth that all thing breeds , Might be the cause of so impatient plight ? What furie , or what feend with felon deeds Hath stirred vp so mischieuous despight ? Can griefe then enter into heauenly harts , And pierce immortall breasts with mortall smarts ? Vouchsafe ye then , whom onely it concernes , To me those secret causes to display ; For none but you , or who of you it learnes Can rightfully aread so dolefull lay . Begin thou eldest Sister of the crew , And let the rest in order thee ensew . Clio. Heare thou great Father of the Gods on hie That most art dreaded for thy thunder darts : And thou our Syre that raignst in Castalie And mount Parnasse , the God of goodly Arts : Heare and behold the miserable state Of vs thy daughters , dolefull desolate . Behold the fowle reproach and open shame , The which is day by day vnto vs wrought By such as hate the honour of our name , The foes of learning , and each gentle thought ; They not contented vs themselues to scorne , Doo seeke to make vs of the world forlorne . Ne onely they that dwell in lowly dust , The sonnes of darknes and of ignoraunce ; But they , whom thou great Ioue by doome vniust Didst to the type of honour earst aduaunce ; They now puft vp with sdeignfull insolence , Despise the brood of blessed Sapience . The sectaries of my celestiall skill , That wont to be the worlds chiefe ornament , And learned Impes that wont to shoote vp still , And grow to hight of kingdomes gouernment They vnderkeep , and with their spredding armes Doo beat their buds , that perish through their harmes . It most behoues the honorable race Of mightie Peeres , true wisedome to sustaine , And with their noble countenaunce to grace The learned forheads , without gifts or gaine : Or rather learnd themselues behoues to bee ; That is the girlond of Nobilitie . But ( ah ) all otherwise they doo esteeme Of th' heauenly gift of wisdomes influence , And to be learned it a base thing deeme ; Base minded they that want intelligence : For God himselfe for wisedome most is praised , And men to God thereby are nighest raised . But they doo onely striue themselues to raise Through pompous pride , and foolish vanitie ; In th' eyes of people they put all their praise , And onely boast of Armes and Auncestrie : But vertuous deeds , which did those Armes first giue To their Grandsyres , they care not to atchiue . So I , that doo all noble feates professe To register , and sound in trump of gold ; Through their bad dooings , or base slothfulnesse , Finde nothing worthie to be writ , or told : For better farre it were to hide their names , Than telling them to blazon out their blames . So shall succeeding ages haue no light Of things forepast , nor moniments of time , And all that in this world is worthie hight Shall die in darknesse , and lie hid in slime : Therefore I mourne with deep harts sorrowing , Because I nothing noble haue to sing . With that she raynd such store of streaming teares , That could haue made a stonie heart to weep , And all her Sisters rent their golden heares , And their faire faces with salt humour steep . So ended shee : and then the next anew , Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew . Melpomene . O who shall powre into my swollen eyes A sea of teares that neuer may be dryde , A brasen voice that may with shrilling cryes Pierce the dull heauens and fill the ayer wide , And yron sides that sighing may endure , To waile the wretchednes of world impure ? Ah wretched world the den of wickednesse , Deformd with filth and fowle iniquitie ; Ah wretched world the house of heauinesse , Fild with the wreaks of mortall miserie ; Ah wretched world , and all that is therein The vassals of Gods wrath , and slaues of sin . Most miserable creature vnder sky Man without vnderstanding doth appeare , For all this worlds affliction he thereby , And Fortunes freakes is wisely taught to beare : Of wretched life the onely ioy shee is , And th' only comfort in calamities . She armes the brest with constant patience , Against the bitter throwes of dolours darts , She solaceth with rules of Sapience The gentle minds , in midst of worldlie smarts : When he is sad , shee seeks to make him merie , And doth refresh his sprights when they be werie . But he that is of reasons skill bereft , And wants the staffe of wisedome him to stay , Is like a ship in midst of tempest left Withouten helme or Pilot her to sway , Full sad and dreadfull is that ships euent : So is the man that wants intendiment . Whie then doo foolish men so much despize The precious store of this celestiall riches ? Why doo they banish vs , that patronize The name of learning ? Most vnhappie wretches , The which lie drowned in deep wretchednes , Yet doo not see their owne vnhappines . My part it is and my professed skill The Stage with Tragick buskin to adorne , And fill the Scene with plaint and outcries shrill Of wretched persons , to misfortune borne : But none more tragick matter I can finde Than this , of men depriu'd of sense and minde . For all mans life me seemes a Tragedy , Full of sad sights and sore Catastrophees ; First comming to the world with weeping eye , Where all his dayes like dolorous Trophees , Are heapt with spoyles of fortune and of feare , And he at last laid forth on balefull beare . So all with rufull spectacles is fild Fit for Megera or Persephone ; But I that in true Tragedies am skild , The flowre of wit , finde nought to busie me Therefore I mourne , and pitifully mone , Because that mourning matter I haue none . Then gan she wofully to waile , and wring Her wretched hands in lamentable wise ; And all her Sisters thereto answering . Threw forth lowd shrieks and drerie dolefull cries . So rested she : and then the next in rew , Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew . Thalia . Where be the sweete delights of learnings treasure , That wont with Comick sock to beautefie The painted Theaters , and fill with pleasure The listners eyes , and eares with melodie ; In which I late was wont to raine as Queene , And maske in mirth with Graces well be seene ? O all is gone , and all that goodly glee , Which wont to be the glorie of gay wits , Is layd abed , and no where now to see ; And in her roome vnseemly Sorrow sits , With hollow browes and greisly countenaunce , Marring my ioyous gentle dalliaunce . And him beside sits vgly Barbarisme , And brutish Ignorance , ycrept of late Out of dredd darknes of the deep Abysme , Where being bredd , he light and heauen does hate : They in the mindes of men now tyrannize , And the faire Scene with rudenes foule disguize . All places they with follie haue possest , And with vaine toyes the vulgare entertaine ; But me haue banished , with all the rest That whilome wont to wait vpon my traine , Fine Counterfesaunce and vnhurtfull Sport , Delight and Laughter deckt in seemly sort . All these , and all that els the Comick Stage With seasoned wit and goodly pleasance graced ; By which mans life in his likest image Was limned forth , are wholly now defaced ; And those sweete wits which wont the like to frame , Are now despizd , and made a laughing game . And he the man , whom Nature selfe had made To mock her selfe , and Truth to imitate , With kindly counter vnder Mimick shade , Our pleasant Willy , ah is dead of late : With whom all ioy and iolly meriment Is also deaded , and in dolour drent . In stead thereof scoffing Scurrilitie , And scornfull Follie with Contempt is crept , Rolling in rymes of shameles ribaudrie Without regard , or due Decorum kept , Each idle wit at will presumes to make , And doth the Learneds taske vpon him take . But that same gentle Spirit , from whose pen Large streames of honnie and sweete Nectar flowe , Scorning the boldnes of such base-borne men , Which dare their follies forth so rashlie throwe ; Doth rather choose to sit in idle Cell , Than so himselfe to mockerie to sell. So am I made the seruant of the manie , And laughing stocke of all that list to scorne , Not honored nor cared for of anie ; But loath'd of losels as a thing forlorne : Therefore I mourne and sorrow with the rest , Vntill my cause of sorrow be redrest . Therewith she lowdly did lament and shrike , Pouring forth streames of teares abundantly , And all her Sisters with compassion like , The breaches of her singults did supply . So rested shee : and then the next in rew Began her grieuous plaint , as doth ensew . Euterpe . Like as the dearling of the Summers pryde , Faire Philomele , when winters stormie wrath The goodly fields , that earst so gay were dyde In colours diuers , quite despoyled hath , All comfortlesse doth hide her chearlesse head During the time of that her widowhead : So we , that earst were wont in sweet accord All places with our pleasant notes to fill , Whilest fauourable times did vs afford Free libertie to chaunt our charmes at will : All comfortlesse vpon the bared bow , Like wofull Culuers doo sit wayling now . For far more bitter storme than winters stowre The beautie of the world hath lately wasted , And those fresh buds , which wont so faire to flowre , Hath marred quite , and all their blossoms blasted : And those yong plants , which wont with fruit t' abound , Now without fruite or leaues are to be found . A stonie coldnesse hath benumbd the sence And liuelie spirits of each liuing wight , And dimd with darknesse their intelligence , Darknesse more than Cymerians daylie night ? And monstrous error flying in the ayre , Hath mard the face of all that semed fayre . Image of hellish horrour Ignorance , Borne in the bosome of the black Abysse , And fed with furies milke , for sustenaunce Of his weake infancie , begot amisse By yawning Sloth on his owne mother Night ; So hee his sonnes both Syre and brother hight . He armd with blindnesse and with boldnes stout , ( For blind is bold ) hath our fayre light defaced ; And gathering vnto him a ragged rout Of Faunes and Satyres , hath our dwellings raced And our chast bowers , in which all vertue rained , With brutishnesse and beastlie filth hath stained . The sacred springs of horsefoot Helicon , So oft bedeawed with our learned layes , And speaking streames of pure Castalion , The famous witnesse of our wonted praise , They trampled haue with their fowle footings trade , And like to troubled puddles haue them made . Our pleasant groues , which planted were with paines , That with our musick wont so oft to ring , And arbors sweet , in which the Shepheards swaines Were wont so oft their Pastoralls to sing , They haue cut downe and all their pleasaunce mard , That now no pastorall is to bee hard . In stead of them fowle Goblins and Shriekowles , With fearfull howling do all places fill ; And feeble Eccho now laments and howles , The dreadfull accents of their outcries shrill . So all is turned into wildernesse , Whilest ignorance the Muses doth oppresse . And I whose ioy was earst with Spirit full To teach the warbling pipe to sound aloft , My spirits now dismayd with sorrow dull , Doo mone my miserie in silence soft . Therefore I mourne and waile incessantly , Till please the heauens affoord me remedy . Therewith shee wayled with exceeding woe And pitious lamentation did make , And all her sisters seeing her doo soe , With equall plaints her sorrowe did partake . So rested shee : and then the next in rew , Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew . Terpsichore . Who so hath in the lap of soft delight Beene long time luld , and fed with pleasures sweet , Feareles through his own fault or Fortunes spight , To tumble into sorrow and regreet , Yf chaunce him fall into calamitie , Findes greater burthen of his miserie . So wee that earst in ioyance did abound And in the bosome of all blis did sit , Like virgin Queenes with laurell garlands cround , For vertues meed and ornament of wit . Sith ignorance our kingdome did confound , Bee now become most wretched wightes on ground : And in our royall thrones which lately stood In th' hearts of men to rule them carefully , He now hath placed his accursed brood , By him begotten of fowle infamy ; Blind Error , scornefull Follie , and base Spight , Who hold by wrong , that wee should haue by right . They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing , And make them merrie with their fooleries , They cherelie chaunt and rymes at randon fling , The fruitfull spawne of their ranke fantasies : They feede the eares of fooles with flattery , And good men blame , and losels magnify : All places they doo with their toyes possesse , And raigne in liking of the multitude , The schooles they fill with fond new fanglenesse , And sway in Court with pride and rashnes rude ; Mongst simple shepheards they do boast their skill , And say their musicke matcheth Phoebus quill . The noble hearts to pleasures they allure , And tell their Prince that learning , is but vaine , Faire Ladies loues they spot with thoughts impure , And gentle mindes with lewd delights distaine : Clerks they to loathly idlenes entice , And fill their bookes with discipline of vice . So euery where they rule and tyrannize , For their vsurped kingdomes maintenaunce , The whiles we silly Maides , whom they dispize , And with reprochfull scorne discountenaunce , From our owne natiue heritage exilde , Walk through the world of euery one reuilde . Nor anie one doth care to call vs in , Or once vouchsafeth vs to entertaine , Vnlesse some one perhaps of gentle kin , For pitties sake compassion our paine : And yeeld vs some reliefe in this distresse , Yet to be so relieu'd is wretchednesse . So wander we all carefull comfortlesse , Yet none doth care to comfort vs at all ; So seeke we helpe our sorrow to redresse , Yet none vouchsafes to answere to our call : Therefore we mourne and pittilesse complaine , Because none liuing pittieth our paine . With that she wept and wofullie waymented , That naught on earth her griefe might pacifie ; And all the rest her dolefull din augmented , With shrikes and groanes and grieuous agonie . So ended shee : and then the next in rew , Began her piteous plaint as doth ensew . Erato Ye gentle Spirits breathing from aboue , Where ye in Venus siluer bowre were bred , Thoughts halfe deuine full of the fire of loue , With beawtie kindled and with pleasure fed , Which ye now in securitie possesse , Forgetfull of your former heauinesse : Now change the tenor of your ioyous layes , With which ye vse your loues to deifie , And blazon foorth an earthlie beauties praise , Aboue the compasse of the arched skie : Now change your praises into piteous cries , And Eulogies turne into Elegies . Such as ye wont whenas those bitter stounds Of raging loue first gan you to torment , And launch your hearts with lamentable wounds Of secret sorrow and sad languishment , Before your Loues did take you vnto grace ; Those now renew as fitter for this place . For I that rule in measure moderate The tempest of that stormie passion , And vse to paint in rimes the troublous state Of Louers life in likest fashion , Am put from practise of my kindlie skill , Banisht by those that Loue with leawdnes fill . Loue wont to be schoolmaster of my skill , And the deuicefull matter of my song ; Sweete Loue deuoyd of villanie or ill , But pure and spotles , as at first he sprong Out of th' Almighties bosome , where he nests ; From thence infused into mortall brests . Such high conceipt of that celestiall fire , The base-borne brood of blindnes cannot gesse , Ne euer dare their dunghill thoughts aspire Vnto so loftie pitch of perfectnesse , But rime at riot , and doo rage in loue ; Yet little wote what doth thereto behoue . Faire Cytheree the Mother of delight , And Queene of beautie , now thou maist go pack , For lo thy Kingdome is defacd quight , Thy scepter rent , and power put to wrack ; And thy gay Sonne , that winged God of Loue , May now goe prune his plumes like ruffed Doue . And ye three Twins to light by Venus brought , The sweete companions of the Muses late , From whom whateuer thing is goodly thought Doth borrow grace , the fancie to aggrate ; Go beg with vs , and be companions still As heretofore of good , so now of ill . For neither you nor we shall anie more Finde entertainment , or in Court or Schoole : For that which was accounted heretofore The learneds meed , is now lent to the foole , He sings of loue , and maketh louing layes , And they them heare , and they them highly prayse . With that she powred foorth a brackish flood Of bitter teares , and made exceeding mone ; And all her Sisters seeing her sad mood , With lowd laments her answered all at one . So ended she : and then the next in rew Began her grieuous plaint , as doth ensew . Calliope . To whom shall I my euill case complaine , Or tell the anguish of my inward smart , Sith none is left to remedie my paine , Or deignes to pitie a perplexed hart ; But rather seekes my sorrow to augment With fowle reproach , and cruell banishment . For they to whom I vsed to applie The faithfull seruice of my learned skill , The goodly off-spring of Ioues progenie , That wont the world with famous acts to fill ; Whose liuing praises in heroïck style , It is my chiefe profession to compyle . They all corrupted through the rust of time , That doth all fairest things on earth deface , Or through vnnoble sloth , or sinfull raine , That doth degenerate the noble race ; Haue both desire of worthie deeds forlorne , And name of learning vtterly doo scorne . Ne doo they care to haue the auncestrie Of th' old Heroës memorizde anew , Ne doo they care that late posteritie Should know their names , or speak their praises dew : But die forgot from whence at first they sprong , As they themselues shal be forgot ere long . What bootes it then to come from glorious Forefathers , or to haue been nobly bred ? What oddes twixt Irus and old Inachus ? Twixt best and worst , when both alike are ded ; If none of neither mention should make , Nor out of dust their memories awake . Or who would euer care to doo braue deed , Or striue in vertue others to excell ; If none should yeeld him his deserued meed , Due praise , that is the spur of dooing well ? For if good were not praised more than ill , None would choose goodnes of his owne freewill . Therefore the nurse of vertue I am hight , And golden Trompet of eternitie , That lowly thoughts lift vp to heauens hight , And mortall men haue powre to deifie : Bacchus and Hercules I raisd to heauen , And Charlemaine , amongst the Starris seauen . But now I will my golden Clarion rend , And will henceforth immortalize no more : Sith I no more finde worthie to commend For prize of value , or for learned lore : For noble Peeres whom I was wont to raise , Now onely seeke for pleasure , nought for praise . Their great reuenues all in sumptuous pride They spend , that nought to learning they may spare ; And the rich fee which Poets wont diuide , Now Parasites and Sycophants doo share : Therefore I mourne and endlesse sorrow make , Both for my selfe and for my Sisters sake . With that she lowdly gan to waile and shrike , And from her eyes a sea of teares did powre , And all her sisters with compassion like , Did more increase the sharpnes of her showre . So ended she : and then the next in rew Began her plaint , as doth herein ensew . Vrania . What wrath of Gods , or wicked influence Of Starres conspiring wretched men t' afflict , Hath powrd on earth this noyous pestilence , That mortall mindes doth inwardly infect With loue of blindnesse and of ignorance , To dwell in darkenesse without souerance ? What difference twixt man and beast is left , When th' heauenlie light of knowledge is put out , And th' ornaments of wisdome are bereft ? Then wandreth he in error and in doubt , Vnweeting of the danger hee is in , Through fleshes frailtie and deceipt of sin . In this wide world in which they wretches stray , It is the onelie comfort which they haue , It is their light , their loadstarre and their day ; But hell and darkenesse and the grislie graue Is ignorance , the enemie of grace , That mindes of men borne heauenlie doth debace . Through knowledge we behold the worlds creation , How in his cradle first he fostred was ; And iudge of Natures cunning operation , How things she formed of a formelesse mas : By knowledge wee do learne our selues to knowe , And what to man , and what to God wee owe . From hence wee mount aloft vnto the skie , And looke into the Christall firmament , There we behold the heauens great Hierarchie , The Starres pure light , the Spheres swift mouement , The Spirites and Intelligences fayre , And Angels waighting on th' Almighties chayre . And there with humble minde and high insight , Th' eternall Makers maiestie wee viewe , His loue , his truth , his glorie , and his might , And mercie more than mortall men can vew . O soueraigne Lord , ô soueraigne happinesse To see thee , and thy mercie measurelesse : Such happines haue they that doo embrace The precepts of my heauenlie discipline , But shame and sorrow and accursed case Haue they , that scorne the schoole of arts diuine . And banish mee which do professe the skill To make men heauenly wise , through humbled will . How euer yet they mee despise and spight , I feede on sweet contentment of my thought , And please my selfe with mine owne selfe-delight , In contemplation of things heauenlie wrought : So loathing earth , I looke vp to the sky , And being driuen hence I thether fly . Thence I behold the miserie of men Which want the blis that wisedom would then breed , And like brute beasts doo lie in loathsome den , Of ghostly darkenes , and of gastlie dreed : For whom I mourne and for my selfe complaine , And for my Sisters eake whom they disdaine . With that shee wept and waild so pityouslie , As if her eyes had beene two springing wells : And all the rest her sorrow to supplie , Did throw forth shrieks and cries and dreery yells . So ended shee , and then the next in rew , Began her mournfull plaint as doth ensew . Polyhymnia . A dolefull case desires a dolefull song , Without vaine art or curious complements , And squallid Fortune into basenes flong , Doth scorne the pride of wonted ornaments . Then fittest are these ragged rimes for mee , To tell my sorrowes that exceeding bee : For the sweet numbers and melodious measures , With which I wont the winged words to tie , And make a tunefull Diapase of pleasures , Now being let to runne at libertie By those which haue no skill to rule them right , Haue now quite lost their naturall delight . Heapes of huge words vphoorded hideously , With horrid sound though hauing little sence , They thinke to be chiefe praise of Poëtry ; And thereby wanting due intelligence , Haue mard the face of goodly Poësie , And made a monster of their fantasie : Whilom in ages past none might professe But Princes and high Priests that secret skill , The sacred lawes therein they wont expresse , And with deepe Oracles their verses fill : Then was shee held in soueraigne dignitie , And made the noursling of Nobilitie . But now nor Prince nor Priest doth her maintayne , But suffer her prophaned for to bee Of the base vulgar , that with hands vncleane Dares to pollute her hidden mysterie . And treadeth vnder foote hir holie things , Which was the care of Kesars and of Kings . One onelie liues , her ages ornament , And myrrour of her Makers maiestie ; That with rich bountie and deare cherishment , Supports the praise of noble Poësie : Ne onelie fauours them which it professe , But is her selfe a peereles Poëtresse . Most peereles Prince , most peereles Poëtresse , The true Pandora of all heauenly graces , Diuine Elisa , sacred Emperesse : Liue she for euer , and her royall P'laces Be fild with praises of diuinest wits , That her eternize with their heauenlie writs . Some few beside , this sacred skill esteme , Admirers of her glorious excellence , Which being lightned with her beawties beme , Are thereby fild with happie influence : And lifted vp aboue the worldes gaze , To sing with Angels her immortall praize . But all the rest as borne of saluage brood , And hauing beene with Acorns alwaies fed ; Can no whit sauour this celestiall food , But with base thoughts are into blindnesse led , And kept from looking on the lightsome day : For whome I waile and weepe all that I may . Eftsoones such store of teares shee forth did powre , As if shee all to water would haue gone ; And all her sisters seeing her sad stowre , Did weep and waile and made exceeding mone : And all their learned instruments did breake , The rest vntold no louing tongue can speake . FINIS .

Virgils Gnat. Long since dedicated To the most noble and excellent Lord , the Earle of Leicester , late deceased . WRong'd , yet not daring to expresse my paine , To you ( great Lord ) the causer of my care , In clowdie teares my case I thus complaine Vnto yourselfe , that onely priuie are : But if that any Oedipus vnware Shall chaunce , through power of some diuining spright , To reade the secrete of this riddle rare , And know the purporte of my euill plight , Let him rest pleased with his owne insight , Ne further seeke to glose vpon the text : For griefe enough it is to grieued wight To feele his fault , and not be further vext . But what so by my selfe may not be showen , May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen . We now haue playde ( Augustus ) wantonly , Tuning our song vnto a tender Muse , And like a cobweb weauing slenderly , Haue onely playde : let thus much then excuse This Gnats small Poeme , that th' whole history Is but a iest , though enuie it abuse : But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame , Shall lighter seeme than this Gnats idle name . Hereafter , when as season more secure Shall bring forth fruit , this Muse shall speak to thee In bigger notes , that may thy sense allure , And for thy worth frame some fit Poesie , The golden ofspring of Latona pure , And ornament of great Ioues progenie , Phoebus shall be the author of my song , Playing on yuorie harp with siluer strong . He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood Of Poets Prince , whether he woon beside Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimaeras blood ; Or in the woods of Astery abide ; Or whereas mount Parnasse , the Muses brood , Doth his broad forhead like two hornes diuide , And the sweete waues of sounding Castaly With liquid foote doth slide downe easily . Wherefore ye Sisters which the glorie bee Of the Pierian streames , fayre Naiades , Go too , and dauncing all in companie , Adorne that God : and thou holie Pales , To whome the honest care of husbandrie Returneth by continuall successe , Haue care for to pursue his footing light ; Throgh the wide woods , & groues , with green leaues dight . Professing thee I lifted am aloft Betwixt the forrest wide and starrie sky : And thou most dread ( Octauius ) which oft To learned wits giuest courage worthily , O come ( thou sacred childe ) come sliding soft , And fauour my beginnings graciously : For not these leaues do sing that dreadfull stound , When Giants bloud did staine Phlegraean ground . Nor how th' halfe horsy people , Centaures hight , Fought with the bloudie Lapithaes at bord , Nor how the East with tyranous despight Burnt th' Attick towres , and people slew with sword ; Nor how mount Athos through exceeding might Was digged downe , nor yron bands abord The Pontick sea by their huge Nauy cast , My volume shall renowne , so long since past . Nor Hellespont trampled with horses feete , When flocking Persians did the Greeks affray ; But my soft Muse , as for her power more meete , Delights ( with Phoebus friendly leaue ) to play An easie running verse with tender feete . And thou ( dread sacred child ) to thee alway , Let euerlasting lightsome glory striue , Through the worlds endles ages to suruiue . And let an happie roome remaine for thee Mongst heauenly ranks , where blessed soules do rest ; And let long lasting life with ioyous glee , As thy due meede that thou deseruest best , Hereafter many yeares remembred be Amongst good men , of whom thou oft are blest ; Liue thou for euer in all happinesse : But let vs turne to our first businesse . The fiery Sun was mounted now on hight Vp to the heauenly towers , and shot each where Out of his golden Charet glistering light ; And fayre Aurora with her rosie heare , The hatefull darknes now had put to flight , When as the shepheard seeing day appeare , His little Goats gan driue out of their stalls , To feede abroad , where pasture best befalls . To an high mountaines top he with them went , Where thickest grasse did cloath the open hills : They now amongst the woods and thickets ment , Now in the valleies wandring at their wills , Spread themselues farre abroad through each descent ; Some on the soft greene grasse feeding their fills ; Some clambring through the hollow cliffes on hy , Nibble the bushie shrubs , which growe thereby . Others the vtmost boughs of trees doe crop , And bronze the woodbine twigges , that freshly bud ; This with full bit doth catch the vtmost top Of some soft Willow , or new growen stud ; This with sharpe teeth the bramble leaues doth lop , And chaw the tender prickles in her Cud ; The whiles another high doth ouerlooke Her owne like image in a christall brooke . O the great happines , which shepheards haue , Who so loathes not too much the poore estate , With minde that ill vse doth before depraue , Ne measures all things by the costly rate Of riotise , and semblants outward braue ; No such sad cares , as wont to macerate And rend the greedie mindes of couetous men , Do euer creepe into the shepheards den . Ne cares he if the fleece , which him arayes , Be not twice steeped in Assyrian dye , Ne glistering of golde , which vnderlayes The summer beames , doe blinde his gazing eye . Ne pictures beautie , nor the glauncing rayes Of precious stones , whence no good commeth by ; Ne yet his cup embost with Imagery Of Baetus or of Alcons vanity . Ne ought the whelky pearles esteemeth hee , Which are from Indian seas brought far away : But with pure brest from carefull sorrow free , On the soft grasse his limbs doth oft display , In sweete spring time , when flowres varietie With sundrie colours paints the sprincled lay ; There lying all at ease , from guile or spight , With pype of fennie reedes doth him delight . There he , Lord of himselfe , with palme bedight , His looser locks doth wrap in wreath of vine : There his milk dropping Goats be his delight , And fruitefull Pales , and the forrest greene , And darkesome caues in pleasaunt vallies pight , Wheras continuall shade is to be seene , And where fresh springing wells , as christall neate , Do alwayes flow , to quench his thirstie heate . O who can lead then a more happie life , Than he , that with cleane minde and heart sincere , No greedy riches knowes nor bloudie strife , No deadly fight of warlick fleete doth feare , Ne runs in perill of foes cruell knife , That in the sacred temples he may reare , A trophee of his glittering spoyles and treasure , Or may abound in riches aboue measure . Of him his God is worshipt with his sythe , And not with skill of craftsman polished : He ioyes in groues , and makes himselfe full blythe , With sundrie flowers in wilde fieldes gathered ; Ne frankincens he from Panchaea buyth , Sweete quiet harbours in his harmeles head , And perfect pleasure buildes her ioyous bowre , Free from sad cares , that rich mens hearts deuowre . This all his care , this all his whole indeuour , To this his minde and senses he doth bend , How he may flow in quiets matchles treasour , Content with any food that God doth send ; And how his limbs , resolu'd through idle leisour , Vnto sweete sleepe he may securely lend , In some coole shadow from the scorching heat , The whiles his flock their chawed cuds do eate , O flocks , O Faunes , and O ye pleasaunt springs Of Tempe , where the countrey Nymphs are rife , Through whose not costly care each shepheard sings As merrie notes vpon his rusticke Fife , As that Astraean bard , whose fame now rings Through the wide world , and leads as ioyfull life . Free from all troubles and from worldly toyle , In which fond men doe all their dayes turmoyle . In such delights whilst thus his carelesse time This shepheard driues , vpleaning on his batt , And on shrill reedes chaunting his rustick rime , Hyperion throwing foorth his beames full hott , Into the highest top of heauen gan clime , And the world parting by an equall lott , Did shed his whirling flames on either side , As the great Ocean doth himselfe diuide . Then gan the shepheard gather into one His stragling Goates , and draue them to a foord , Whose caerule streame , rombling in Pible stone , Crept vnder mosse as greene as any goord . Now had the Sun halfe heauen ouergone , When he his heard back from that water foord , Draue from the force of Phoebus boyling ray , Into thick shadowes , there themselues to lay . Soone as he them plac'd in thy sacred wood ( O Delian Goddesse ) saw , to which of yore Came the bad daughter of old Cadmus brood , Cruell Agaue , flying vengeance sore Of king Nictileus for the guiltie blood , Which she with cursed hands had shed before ; There she halfe frantick hauing slaine her sonne , Did shrowd her selfe like punishment to shonne . Here also playing on the grassy greene , Woodgods , and Satyres , and swift Dryades , With many Fairies oft were dauncing seene . Not so much did Dan Orpheus represse , The streames of Hebrus with his songs I weene , As that faire troupe of woodie Goddesses Staied thee , ( O Peneus ) powring foorth to thee , From cheereful lookes great mirth & gladsome glee . The verie nature of the place , resounding With gentle murmure of the breathing ayre , A pleasant bowre with all delight abounding In the fresh shadowe did for them prepayre , To rest their limbs with wearines redounding . For first the high Palme trees with braunches faire , Out of the lowly vallies did arise , And high shoote vp their heads into the skyes . And them amongst the wicked Lotos grew , Wicked , for holding guilefully away Vlysses men , whom rapt with sweetenes new , Taking to hoste , it quite from him did stay , And eke those trees , in whose transformed hew The Sunnes sad daughters waylde the rash decay Of Phaeton , whose limbs with lightening rent , They gathering vp , with sweete teares did lament . And that same tree , in which Demophoon , By his disloyalty lamented sore , Eternall hurte left vnto many one : Whom als accompanied the Oke , of yore Through fatall charmes transformd to such an one : The Oke , whose Acornes were our foode , before That Ceres seede of mortall men were knowne , Which first Triptoleme taught how to be sowne . Here also grow the rougher rinded Pine , The great Argoan ships braue ornament Whom golden Fleece did make an heauenly signe ; Which coueting , with his high tops extent , To make the mountaines touch the starres diuine , Decks all the forrest with embellishment , And the blacke Holme that loues the watrie vale , And the sweete Cypresse signe of deadly bale . Emongst the rest the clambring Yuie grew , Knitting his wanton armes with grasping hold , Least that the Poplar happely should rew Her brothers strokes , whose boughes she doth enfold With her lythe twigs , till they the top survew , And paint with pallid greene her buds of gold . Next did the Myrtle tree to her approach , Not yet vnmindfull of her olde reproach . But the small Birds in their wide boughs embowring , Chaunted their sundrie tunes with sweete consent , And vnder them a siluer Spring forth powring His trickling streames , a gentle murmure sent ; Thereto the frogs , bred in the slimie scowring Of the moist moores , their iarring voyces bent ; And shrill grashoppers chirped them around : All which the ayrie Echo did resound . In this so pleasant place this Shepheards flocke Lay euerie where , their wearie limbs to rest , On euerie bush , and euerie hollow rocke Where breathe on them the whistling wind mote best ; The whiles the Shepheard self tending his stocke , Sate by the fountaine side , in shade to rest , Where gentle slumbring sleep oppressed him , Displaid on ground , and seized euerie limb . Of trecherie or traines nought tooke he keep , But looslie on the grassie greene dispredd , His dearest life did trust to careles sleep ; Which weighing down his drouping drowsie hedd , In quiet rest his molten heart did steep , Deuoid of care , and feare of all falshedd : Had not inconstant fortune , bent to ill , Bid strange mischance his quietnes to spill . For at his wonted time in that same place An huge great Serpent all with speckles pide , To drench himselfe in moorish slime did trace , There from the boyling heate himselfe to hide : He passing by with rolling wreathed pace , With brandisht tongue the emptie aire did gride , And wrapt his scalie boughts with fell despight , That all things seem'd appalled at his sight . Now more and more hauing himselfe enrolde , His glittering breast he lifteth vp on hie , And with proud vaunt his head aloft doth holde ; His creste aboue spotted with purple die , On euerie side did shine like scalie golde , And his bright eyes glauncing full dreadfullie , Did seeme to flame out flakes of flashing fyre , And with sterne lookes to threaten kindled yre . Thus wise long time he did himselfe dispace There round about , when as at last he spide Lying along before him in that place , That flocks grand Captaine , and most trustie guide : Eftsoones more fierce in visage , and in pace , Throwing his firie eyes on euerie side , He commeth on , and all things in his way Full stearnly rends , that might his passage stay . Much he disdaines , that anie one should dare To come vnto his haunt ; for which intent He inly burns , and gins straight to prepare The weapons , which Nature to him hath lent ; Fellie he hisseth , and doth fiercely stare , And hath his iawes with angrie spirits rent , That all his tract with bloudie drops is stained , And all his foldes are now in length outstrained . Whom thus at point prepared , to preuent , A litle noursling of the humid ayre , A Gnat vnto the sleepie Shepheard went , And marking where his ey-lids twinckling rare , Shewd the two pearles , which sight vnto him lent , Through their thin couerings appearing fayre , His little needle there infixing deep , Warnd him awake , from death himselfe to keep . Wherewith enrag'd , he fiercely gan vpstart , And with his hand him rashly bruzing , slewe As in auengement of his heedles smart , That streight the spirite out of his senses flew , And life out of his members did depart : When suddenly casting aside his vew , He spide his foe with felonous intent , And feruent eyes to his destruction bent . All suddenly dismaid , and hartles quight , He fled abacke , and catching hastie holde Of a yong alder hard beside him pight , It rent , and streight about him gan beholde , What God or Fortune would assist his might . But whether God or Fortune made him bold Its hard to read : yet hardie will he had To ouercome , that made him lesse adrad . The scalie backe of that most hideous snake Enwrapped round , oft faining to retire , And oft him to assaile , he fiercely strake Whereas his temples did his creast front tyre ; And for he was but slowe , did slowth off shake , And gazing ghastly on ( for feare and yre Had blent so much his sense , that lesse he feard ; ) Yet when he saw him slaine , himselfe he cheard . By this the night forth from the darksome bowre Of Herebus her teemed steedes gan call , And laesie Vesper in his timely howre From golden Oeta gan proceede withall ; Whenas the Shepheard after this sharpe stowre , Seing the doubled shadowes low to fall , Gathering his straying flocke , does homeward fare , And vnto rest his wearie ioynts prepare . Into whose sense so soone as lighter sleepe Was entered , and now loosing euerie lim , Sweete slumbring deaw in carelesnesse did steepe , The Image of that Gnat appeard to him , And in sad tearmes gan sorrowfully weepe , With greislie countenaunce and visage grim , Wailing the wrong which he had done of late , In steed of good hastning his cruell fate . Said he , what haue I wretch deseru'd , that thus Into this bitter bale I am outcast , Whilest that thy life more deare and precious Was than mine owne , so long as it did last ? I now in lieu of paines so gracious , Am tost in th' ayre with euerie windie blast : Thou safe deliuered from sad decay , Thy careles limbs in loose sleep dost display . So liuest thou , but my poore wretched ghost Is forst to ferrie ouer Lethes Riuer , And spoyld of Charon too and fro am tost . Seest thou , how all places quake and quiuer Lightned with deadly lamps on euerie post ? Tisiphone each where doth shake and shiuer Her flaming fire brond , encountring me , Whose lockes vncombed cruell adders be . And Cerberus , whose many mouthes doo bay , And barke out flames , as if on fire he fed ; Adowne whose necke in terrible array , Ten thousand snakes cralling about his hed Doo hang in heapes , that horribly affray , And bloodie eyes doo glister firie red ; He oftentimes me dreadfullie doth threaten , With painfull torments to be sorely beaten . Ay me , that thankes so much should faile of meed , For that I thee restor'd to life againe , Euen from the doore of death and deadlie dreed . Where then is now the guerdon of my paine ? Where the reward of my so piteous deed ? The praise of pitie vanisht is in vaine , And th' antique faith of Iustice long agone Out of the land is fled away and gone . I saw anothers fate approaching fast , And left mine owne his safetie to tender ; Into the same mishap I now am cast , And shun'd destruction doth destruction render : Not vnto him that neuer hath trespast , But punishment is due to the offender . Yet let destruction be the punishment , So long as thankfull will may it relent , I carried am into waste wildernesse , Waste wildernes , amongst Cymerian shades , Where endles paines and hideous heauinesse Is round about me heapt in darksome glades . For there huge Othos sits in sad distresse , Fast bound with serpents that him oft inuades ; Far of beholding Ephialtes tide , Which once assai'd to burne this world so wide . And there is mournfull Tityus mindefull yet Of thy displeasure , O Latona faire ; Displeasure too implacable was it , That made him meat for wild foules of the ayre : Much do I feare among such fiends to sit ; Much do I feare back to them to repayre , To the black shadowes of the Stygian shore , Where wretched ghosts sit wailing euermore . There next the vtmost brinck doth he abide , That did the bankets of the Gods bewray , Whose threat through thirst to nought nigh being dride His sense to seeke for ease turnes euery way : And he that in auengement of his pride , For scorning to the sacred Gods to pray , Against a mountaine rolls a mightie stone , Calling in vaine for rest , and can haue none . Go ye with them , go cursed damosells , Whose bridale torches foule Erynnis tynde , And Hymen at your Spousalls sad , foretells Tydings of death and massacre vnkinde : With them that cruell Colchid mother dwells , The which conceiu'd in her reuengefull minde , With bitter woundes her owne deere babes to slay , And murdred troupes vpon great heapes to lay . There also those two Pandionian maides , Calling on Itis , Itis euermore , Whom wretched boy they slew with guiltie blades ; For whome the Thracian king lamenting sore , Turn'd to a Lapwing , fowlie them vpbraydes , And flattering round about them still does sore ; There now they all eternally complaine Of others wrong , and suffer endles paine . But the two brethren borne of Cadmus blood , Whilst each does for the Soueraignty contend , Blinde through ambition , and with vengeance wood Each doth against the others bodie bend His cursed steele , of neither well withstood , And with wide wounds their carcases doth rend ; That yet they both doe mortall foes remaine , Sith each with brothers bloudie hand was slaine . Ah ( waladay ) there is no end of paine , Nor chaunge of labour may intreated bee : Yet I beyond all these am carried faine , Where other powers farre different I see , And must passe ouer to th' Elisian plaine : There grim Persephone encountring mee , Doth vrge her fellow Furies earnestlie , With their bright firebronds me to terrifie . There chast Alceste liues inuiolate , Free from all care , for that her husbands daies She did prolong by changing fate for fate , Lo there liues also the immortall praise Of womankinde , most faithfull to her mate , Penelope : and from her farre awayes A rulesse rout of yongmen , which her woo'd All slaine with darts , lie wallowed in their blood . And sad Eurydice thence now no more Must turne to life , but there detained bee , For looking back , being forbid before : Yet was the guilt thereof , Orpheus , in thee . Bold sure he was , and worthie spirite bore , That durst those lowest shadowes goe to see , And could beleeue that anie thing could please Fell Cerberus , or Stygian powres appease . Ne feard the burning waues of Phlegeton , Nor those same mournfull kingdomes , compassed With rustie horrour and fowle fashion , And deep digd vawtes , and Tartar couered With bloodie night , and darke confusion , And iudgement seates , whose Iudge is deadlie dred , A iudge , that after death doth punish sore The faults , which life hath trespassed before . But valiant fortune made Dan Orpheus bolde : For the swift running riuers still did stand , And the wilde beasts their furie did withhold , To follow Orpheus musicke through the land : And th' Okes deep grounded in the earthly molde Did moue , as if they could him vnderstand ; And the shrill woods , which were of sense bereau'd , Through their hard barke his siluer sound receau'd . And eke the Moone her hastie steedes did stay , Drawing in teemes along the starrie skie , And didst ( ô monthly Virgin ) thou delay Thy nightly course , to heare his melodie ? The same was able with like louely lay The Queene of hell to moue as easily , To yeeld Eurydice vnto her fere , Backe to be borne , though it vnlawfull were . She ( Ladie ) hauing well before approoued , The feends to be too cruell and seuere , Obseru'd th' appointed way , as her behooued , Ne euer did her ey sight turne arere , Ne euer spake , ne cause of speaking mooued : But cruell Orpheus , thou much crueller , Seeking to kisse her , brok'st the Gods decree , And thereby mad'st her euer damn'd to be . Ah but sweete loue of pardon worthie is , And doth deserue to haue small faults remitted ; If Hell at least things lightly done amis Knew how to pardon , when ought is omitted : Yet are ye both receiued into blis , And to the seates of happie soules admitted . And you , beside the honourable band Of great Heroës doo in order stand . There be the two stout sonnes of Aeacus , Fierce Peleus , and the hardie Telamon , Both seeming now full glad and ioyeous Through their Syres dreadfull iurisdiction , Being the Iudge of all that horrid hous : And both of them by strange occasion , Renown'd in choyce of happie marriage Through Venus grace , and vertues cariage . For th' one was rauisht of his owne bondmaide , The faire Ixione captiu'd from Troy : But th' other was with Thetis loue assaid , Great Nereus his daughter , and his ioy . On this side them there is a yongman layd , Their match in glorie , mightie , fierce and coy ; That from th' Argolick ships , with furious yre , Bett back the furie of the Troian fyre . O who would not recount the strong diuorces Of that great warre , which Troianes oft behelde , And oft beheld the warlike Greekish forces , When Teucrian soyle with bloodie riuers swelde , And wide Sigaean shores were spred with corses , And Simois and Xanthus blood outwelde , Whilst Hector raged with outragious minde , Flames , weapons , wounds in Greeks fleete to haue tynde . For Ida selfe , in ayde of that fierce fight , Out of her mountaines ministred supplies , And like a kindly nourse , did yeeld ( for spight ) Store of firebronds out of her nourseries , Vnto her foster children , that they might Inflame the Nauie of their enemies , And all the Rhetaean shore to ashes turne , Where lay the ships , which they did seeke to burne . Gainst which the noble sonne of Telamon Oppos'd ' himselfe , and thwarting his huge shield , Them battell bad , gainst whom appeard anon Hector , the glorie of the Troian field : Both fierce and furious in contention Encountred , that their mightie strokes so shrild , As the great clap of thunder , which doth ryue The ratling heauens , and cloudes asunder dryue . So th' one with fire and weapons did contend To cut the ships , from turning home againe To Argos , th' other stroue for to defend The force of Vulcane with his might and maine . Thus th' one Aeacide did his fame extend : But th' other ioy'd , that on the Phrygian playne Hauing the blood of vanquisht Hector shedd , He compast Troy thrice with his bodie dedd . Againe great dole on either partie grewe , That him to death vnfaithfull Paris sent ; And also him that false Vlysses slewe , Drawne into danger through close ambushment : Therefore from him Laërtes sonne his vewe Doth turne aside , and boasts his good euent In working of Strymonian Rhaesus fall , And efte in Dolons slye surprysall . Againe the dreadfull Cycones him dismay , And blacke Laestrigones , a people stout : Then greedie Scilla , vnder whom there bay Manie great bandogs , which her gird about : Then doo the Aetnean Cyclops him affray , And deep Charybdis gulphing in and out : Lastly the squalid lakes of Tartarie , And griesly Feends of hell him terrifie . There also goodly Agamemnon bosts , The glorie of the stock of Tantalus , And famous light of all the Greekish hosts , Vnder whose conduct most victorious , The Dorick flames consum'd the Iliack posts . Ah but the Greekes themselues more dolorous , To thee , ô Troy , paid penaunce for thy fall , In th' Hellespont being nigh drowned all . Well may appeare by proofe of their mischaunce , The chaungfull turning of mens slipperie state , That none , whom fortune freely doth aduaunce , Himselfe therefore to heauen should eleuate : For loftie type of honour through the glaunce Of enuies dart , is downe in dust prostrate ; And all that vaunts in worldly vanitie , Shall fall through fortunes mutabilitie . Th' Argolicke power returning home againe , Enricht with spoyles of th' Ericthonian towre , Did happie winde and weather entertaine , And with good speed the fomie billowes scowre : No signe of storme , no feare of future paine , Which soone ensued them with heauie stowre . Nereis to the Seas a token gaue , The whiles their crooked keeles the surges claue . Suddenly , whether through the Gods decree , Or haplesse rising of some froward starre , The heauens on euerie side enclowded Bee : Black stormes and fogs are blowen vp from farre , That now the Pylote can no loadstarre see , But skies and seas doo make most dreadfull warre ; The billowe striuing to the heauens to reach , And th' heauens striuing them for to impeach . And in auengement of their bold attempt , Both Sun and starres and all the heauenly powres Conspire in one to wreake their rash contempt , And downe on them to fall from highest towres : The skie in pieces seeming to be rent , Throwes lightning forth , & haile , & harmful showres That death on euerie side to them appeares In thousand formes , to worke more ghastly feares . Some in the greedie flouds are sunke and drent , Some on the rocks of Caphareus are throwne ; Some on th' Euboick Cliffs in pieces rent ; Some scattred on the Hercaean shores vnknowne ; And manie lost , of whom no moniment Remaines , nor memorie is to be showne : Whilst all the purchase of the Phrigian pray Tost on salt billowes , round about doth stray . Here manie other like Heroës Bee , Equall in honour to the former crue , Whom ye in goodly seates may placed see , Descended all from Rome by linage due , From Rome , that holds the world in souereigntie , And doth all Nations vnto her subdue : Here Fabij and Decij doo dwell , Horatij that in vertue did excell . And here the antique fame of stout Camill Doth euer liue , and constant Curtius , Who stifly bent his vowed life to spill For Countreyes health , a gulph most hideous Amidst the Towne with his owne corps did fill , T' appease the powers ; and prudent Mutius , Who in his flesh endur'd the scorching flame , To daunt his foe by ensample of the same . And here wise Curius , companion Of noble vertues , liues in endles rest ; And stout Flaminius , whose deuotion Taught him the fires scorn'd furie to detest ; And here the praise of either Scipion Abides in highest place aboue the best , To whom the ruin'd walls of Carthage vow'd , Trembling their forces , sound their praises lowd . Liue they for euer through their lasting praise : But I poore wretch am forced to retourne To the sad lakes , that Phoebus sunnie rayes Doo neuer see , where soules doo alwaies mourne , And by the wayling shores to waste my dayes , Where Phlegeton with quenchles flames doth burne ; By which iust Minos righteous soules doth seuer From wicked ones , to liue in blisse for euer . Me therefore thus the cruell fiends of hell Girt with long snakes , and thousand yron chaynes , Through doome of that their cruell Iudge , compell With bitter torture and impatient paines , Cause of my death , and iust complaint to tell . For thou art he , whom my poore ghost complaines To be the author of her ill vnwares , That careles hear'st my intollerable cares . Them therefore as bequeathing to the winde , I now depart , returning to thee neuer , And leaue this lamentable plaint behinde . But doo thou haunt the soft downe rolling riuer , And wilde greene woods , and fruitful pastures minde , And let the flitting aire my vaine words seuer . Thus hauing said , he heauily departed With piteous crie , that anie would haue smarted . Now , when the sloathfull fit of lifes sweete rest Had left the heauie Shepheard , wondrous cares His inly grieued minde full sore opprest ; That balefull sorrow he no longer beares , For that Gnats death , which deeply was imprest : But bends what euer power his aged yeares Him lent , yet being such , as through their might He lately slue his dreadfull foe in fight . By that same Riuer lurking vnder greene , Eftsoones he gins to fashion forth a place , And squaring it in compasse well beseene , There plotteth out a tombe by measured space : His yron headed spade tho making cleene , To dig vp sods out of the flowrie grasse , His worke he shortly to good purpose brought , Like as he had conceiu'd it in his thought . An heape of earth he hoorded vp on hie , Enclosing it with banks on euerie side , And thereupon did raise full busily A little mount , of greene turffs edifide ; And on the top of all , that passers by Might it behold , the toomb he did prouide Of smoothest marble stone in order set , That neuer might his luckie scape forget . And round about he taught sweete flowres to growe , The Rose engrained in pure scarlet die , The Lilly fresh , and Violet belowe , The Marigolde , and cherefull Rosemarie , The Spartan Mirtle , whence sweet gumb does flowe , The purple Hyacinthe , and fresh Costmarie , And Saffron sought for in Cilician soyle , And Lawrell th' ornament of Phoebus toyle . Fresh Rhododaphne , and the Sabine flowre Matching the wealth of th' auncient Frankincence . And pallid Yuie building his owne bowre , And Box yet mindfull of his olde offence , Red Amaranthus , lucklesse Paramour , Oxeye still greene , and bitter Patience ; Ne wants there pale Narcisse , that in a well Seeing his beautie , in loue with it fell . And whatsoeuer other flowre of worth , And whatso other hearb of louely hew The ioyous Spring out of the ground brings forth , To cloath her selfe in colours fresh and new ; He planted there , and reard a mount of earth , In whose high front was writ as doth ensue . To thee , small Gnat , in lieu of his life saued , The Shepheard hath thy deaths record engraued . FINIS .

PROSOPOPOIA . Or Mother Hubberds Tale .

By ED. SP.

Dedicated to the right Honorable the Ladie Compton and Mountegle .

LONDON . Imprinted for William Ponsonbie , dwelling in Paules Churchyard at the signe of the Bishops head .

1591.

To the right Honourable , the Ladie Compton and Mountegle .

MOst faire and vertuous Ladie ; hauing often sought opportunitie by some good meanes to make knowen to your Ladiship , the humble affection and faithfull duetie , which I haue alwaies professed , and am bound to beare to that House , from whence yee spring , I haue at length found occasion to remember the same , by making a simple present to you of these my idle labours ; which hauing long sithens composed in the raw conceipt of my youth , I lately amongst other papers lighted vpon , and was by others , which liked the same , mooued to set them foorth . Simple is the deuice , and the composition meane , yet carrieth some delight , euen the rather because of the simplicitie & meannesse thus personated . The same I beseech your Ladiship take in good part , as a pledge of that profession which I haue made to you , and keepe with you vntill with some other more worthie labour , I do redeeme it out of your hands , and discharge my vtmost dutie . Till then wishing your Ladiship all increase of honour and happinesse , I humblie take leaue .

Your La: euer humbly ; Ed. Sp.

Prosopopoia : or Mother Hubberds Tale . IT was the month , in which the righteous Maide , That for disdaine of sinfull worlds vpbraide , Fled back to heauen , whence she was first conceiued , Into her siluer bowre the Sunne receiued ; And the hot Syrian Dog on him awayting , After the chafed Lyons cruell bayting , Corrupted had th' ayre with his noysome breath , And powr'd on th' earth plague , pestilence , and death . Emongst the rest a wicked maladie Raign'd emongst men , that manie did to die , Depriu'd of sense and ordinarie reason ; That it to Leaches seemed strange and geason . My fortune was mongst manie others moe , To be partaker of their common woe ; And my weake bodie set on fire with griefe , Was rob'd of rest , and naturall reliefe . In this ill plight , there came to visite mee Some friends , who sorie my sad case to see , Began to comfort me in chearfull wise , And meanes of gladsome solace to deuise . But seeing kindly sleep refuse to doe His office , and my feeble eyes forgoe , They sought my troubled sense how to deceaue With talke , that might vnquiet fancies reaue ; And sitting all in seates about me round , With pleasant tales ( fit for that idle stound ) They cast in course to waste the wearie howres : Some tolde of Ladies , and their Paramoures ; Some of braue Knights , and their renowned Squires ; Some of the Faeries and their strange attires ; And some of Giaunts hard to be beleeued , That the delight thereof me much releeued . Amongst the rest a good old woman was , Hight Mother Hubberd , who did farre surpas The rest in honest mirth , that seem'd her well : She when her turne was come her tale to tell , Tolde of a strange aduenture , that betided Betwixt the Foxe and th' Ape by him misguided ; The which for that my sense it greatly pleased , All were my spirite heauie and diseased , I le write in termes , as she the same did say , So well as I her words remember may . No Muses aide me needes here too to call ; Base is the style , and matter meane withall . ¶ Whilome ( said she ) before the world was ciuill , The Foxe and th' Ape disliking of their euill And hard estate , determined to seeke Their fortunes farre abroad , lyeke with his lyeke : For both were craftie and vnhappie witted ; Two fellowes might no where be better fitted . The Foxe , that first this cause of griefe did finde , Gan first thus plaine his case with words vnkinde . Neighbour Ape , and my Goship eke beside , ( Both two sure bands in friendship to be tide , ) To whom may I more trustely complaine The euill plight , that doth me sore constraine , And hope thereof to finde due remedie ? Heare then my paine and inward agonie . Thus manie yeares I now haue spent and worne , In meane regard , and basest fortunes scorne , Dooing my Countrey seruice as I might , No lesse I dare saie than the prowdest wight ; And still I hoped to be vp aduaunced , For my good parts ; but still it hath mischaunced . Now therefore that no lenger hope I see , But froward fortune still to follow mee , And losels lifted vp on high , where I did looke , I meane to turne the next leafe of the booke . Yet ere that anie way I doo betake , I meane my Gossip priuie first to make . Ah my deare Gossip , ( answer'd then the Ape , ) Deeply doo your sad words my wits awhape , Both for because your griefe doth great appeare , And eke because my selfe am touched neare : For I likewise haue wasted much good time , Still wayting to preferment vp to clime , Whilest others alwayes haue before me stept , And from my beard the fat away haue swept ; That now vnto despaire I gin to growe And meane for better winde about to throwe . Therefore to me , my trustie friend , aread Thy councell : two is better than one head . Certes ( said he ) I meane me to disguize In some straunge habit , after vncouth wize , Or like a Pilgrime , or a Lymiter , Or like a Gipsen , or a Iuggeler , And so to wander to the worlds ende , To seeke my fortune , where I may it mend : For worse than that I haue , I cannot meete . Wide is the world I wote , and euerie streete Is full of fortunes , and aduentures straunge , Continuallie subiect vnto chaunge . Say my faire brother now , if this deuice Doth like you , or may you to like entice , Surely ( said th' Ape ) it likes me wondrous well ; And would ye not poore fellowship expell , My selfe would offer you t' accompanie In this aduentures chauncefull ieopardie . For to wexe olde at home in idlenesse , Is disaduentrous , and quite fortunelesse : Abroad where change is , good may gotten bee . The Foxe was glad , and quickly did agree : So both resolu'd , the morrow next ensuing , So soone as day appeard to peoples vowing , On their intended iourney to proceede ; And ouer night , whatso theretoo did neede , Each did prepare , in readines to bee . The morrow next , so soone as one might see Light out of heauens windowes forth to looke , Both their habiliments vnto them tooke , And put themselues ( a Gods name ) on their way . Whenas the Ape beginning well to wey This hard aduenture , thus began t' aduise ; Now read Sir Reynold , as ye be right wise , What course ye weene is best for vs to take , That for our selues we may a liuing make . Whether shall we professe some trade or skill ? Or shall we varie our deuice at will , Euen as new occasion appeares ? Or shall we tie our selues for certaine yeares To anie seruice , or to anie place ? For it behoues ere that into the race We enter , to resolue first herevpon . Now surely brother ( said the Foxe anon ) Ye haue this matter motioned in season : For euerie thing that is begun with reason Will come by readie meanes vnto his end ; But things miscounselled must needs miswend . Thus therefore I aduize vpon the case , That not to anie certaine trade or place , Nor anie man we should our selues applie ; For why should he that is at libertie Make himselfe bond ? sith then we are free borne , Let vs all seruile base subiection scorne ; And as we bee sonnes of the world so wide , Let vs our fathers heritage diuide , And chalenge to our selues our portions dew Of all the patrimonie , which a few Now hold in in their hand , And all the rest doo rob of good and land . For now a few haue all and all haue nought , Yet all be brethren ylike dearly bought : There is no right in this partition , Ne was it so by institution Ordained first , ne by the law of Nature , But that she gaue like blessing to each creture As well of worldly liuelode as of life , That there might be no difference nor strife , Nor ought cald mine or thine : thrice happie then Was the condition of mortall men . That was the golden age of Saturne old , But this might better be the world of gold : For without golde now nothing wil be got . Therefore ( if please you ) this shal be our plot , We will not be of anie occupation , Let such vile vassalls borne to base vocation Drudge in the world , and for their liuing droyle Which haue no wit to liue withouten toyle . But we will walke about the world at pleasure Like two free men , and make our ease a treasure . Free men some beggers call , but they be free , And they which call them so more beggers bee : For they doo swinke and sweate to feed the other , Who liue like Lords of that which they doo gather , And yet doo neuer thanke them for the same , But as their due by Nature doo it clame . Such will we fashion both our selues to bee , Lords of the world , and so will wander free Where so vs listeth , vncontrol'd of anie Hard is our hap , if we ( emongst so manie ) Light not on some that may our state amend ; Sildome but some good commeth ere the end . Well seemd the Ape to like this ordinaunce : Yet well considering of the circumstaunce , As pausing in great doubt a while he staid , And afterwards with graue aduizement said ; I cannot my lief brother like but well The purpose of the complot which ye tell : For well I wot ( compar'd to all the rest Of each degree ) that Beggers life is best : And they that thinke themselues the best of all , Oft-times to begging are content to fall . But this I wot withall that we shall ronne Into great daunger like to bee vndonne . Thus wildly to wander in the worlds eye , Without pasport or good warrantie , For feare least we like rogues should be reputed , And for eare marked beasts abroad be bruted : Therefore I read , that we our counsells call , How to preuent this mischiefe ere it fall , And how we may with most securitie , Beg amongst those that beggers doo defie . Right well deere Gossip ye aduized haue , ( Said then the Foxe ) but I this doubt will saue : For ere we farther passe , I will deuise A pasport for vs both in fittest wize , And by the names of Souldiers vs protect ; That now is thought a ciuile begging sect . Be you the Souldier , for you likest are For manly semblance , and small skill in warre : I will but wayte on you , and as occasion Falls out , my selfe fit for the same will fashion . The Pasport ended , both they forward went , The Ape clad Souldierlike , fit for th' intent , In a blew iacket with a crosse of redd And manie slits , as if that he had shedd Much blood throgh many wounds therein receaued , Which had the vse of his right arme bereaued ; Vpon his head an old Scotch cap he wore , With a plume feather all to peeces tore : His breeches were made after the new cut , Al Portugese , loose like an emptie gut ; And his hose broken high aboue the heeling , And his shooes beaten out with traueling . But neither sword nor dagger he did beare , Seemes that no foes reuengement he did feare ; In stead of them a handsome bat he held , On which he leaned , as one farre in elde . Shame light on him , that through so false illusion , Doth turne the name of Souldiers to abusion , And that , which is the noblest mysterie , Brings to reproach and common infamie . Long they thus trauailed , yet neuer met Aduenture , which might them a working set : Yet manie waies they sought , and manie tryed ; Yet for their purposes none fit espyed . At last they chaunst to meete vpon the way A simple husbandman in garments gray ; Yet though his vesture were but meane and bace , A good yeoman he was of honest place , And more for thrift did care than for gay clothing : Gay without good , is good hearts greatest loathing . The Foxe him spying , bad the Ape him dight To play his part , for loe he was in sight , That ( if he er'd not ) should them entertaine , And yeeld them timely profite for their paine . Eftsoones the Ape himselfe gan vp to reare , And on his shoulders high his bat to beare , As if good seruice he were fit to doo ; But little thrift for him he did it too : And stoutly forward he his steps did straine , That like a handsome swaine it him became : When as they nigh approached , that good man Seeing them wander loosly , first began T' enquire of custome , what and whence they were ? To whom the Ape , I am a Souldiere , That late in warres haue spent my deerest blood , And in long seruice lost both limbs and good , And now constrain'd that trade to ouergiue , I driuen am to seeke some meanes to liue : Which might it you in pitie please t' afford . I would be readie both in deed and word , To doo you faithfull seruice all my dayes . This yron world ( that same he weeping sayes ) Bring downe the stowtest hearts to lowest state : For miserie doth brauest mindes abate , And make them seeke for that they wont to scorne , Of fortune and of hope at once forlorne . The honest man , that heard him thus complaine , Was grieu'd , as he had felt part of his paine ; And well dispos'd him some reliefe to showe , Askt if in husbandrie he ought did knowe , To plough , to plant , to reap , to rake , to sowe , To hedge , to ditch , to thrash , to thetch , to mowe ; Or to what labour els he was prepar'd ? For husbands life is labourous and hard . Whenas the Ape him hard so much to talke Of labour that did from his liking balke , He would haue slipt the coller handsomly , And to him said ; good Sir , full glad am I , To take what paines may anie liuing wight : But my late maymed limbs lack wonted might To doo their kindly seruices , as needeth : Scarce this right hand the mouth with diet feedeth , So that it may no painfull worke endure , Ne to strong labour can it selfe enure . But if that anie other place you haue , Which askes small paines , but thriftines to saue , Or care to ouerlooke , or trust to gather , Ye may me trust as your owne ghostly father . With that the husbandman gan him auize That it for him were fittest exercise Cattell to keep , or grounds to ouersee ; And asked him , if he could willing bee To keep his sheep , or to attend his swyne , Or watch his mares , or take his charge of kyne ? Gladly ( said he ) what euer such like paine Ye put on me , I will the same sustaine : But gladliest I of your fleecie sheepe ( Might it you please ) would take on me the keep . For ere that vnto armes I me betooke , Vnto my fathers sheepe I vsde to looke , That yet the skill thereof I haue not loste : Thereto right well this Curdog by my coste ( Meaning the Foxe ) will serue , my sheepe to gather , And driue to follow after their Belwether . The Husbandman was meanly well content , Triall to make of his endeuourment , And home him leading , lent to him the charge Of all his flocke , with libertie full large , Giuing accompt of th' annuall increace Both of their lambes , and of their woolley fleece . Thus is this Ape become a shepheard swaine And the false Foxe his dog ( God giue them paine ) For ere the yeare haue halfe his course out-run , And doo returne from whence he first begun , They shall him make an ill accompt of thrift . Now whenas Time flying with wings swift , Expired had the terme , that these two iauels Should render vp a reckning of their trauels Vnto their master , which it of them sought , Exceedingly they troubled were in thought , Ne wist what answere vnto him to frame , Ne how to scape great punishment , or shame , For their false treason and vile theeuerie . For not a lambe of all their flockes supply Had they to shew : but euer as they bred , They slue them , and vpon their fleshes fed : For that disguised Dog lou'd blood to spill , And drew the wicked Shepheard to his will . So twixt them both they not a lambkin left , And when lambes fail'd , the old sheepes liues they reft ; That how t' acquite themselues vnto their Lord , They were in doubt , and flatly set abord . The Foxe then counsel'd th' ape , for to require Respite till morrow , t' answere his desire : For times delay new hope of helpe still breeds . The goodman granted , doubting nought their deeds , And bad , next day that all should readie be . But they more subtill meaning had than he : For the next morrowes meed they closely ment , For feare of afterclaps for to preuent . And that same euening , when all shrowded were In careles sleep , they without care or feare , Cruelly fell vpon their flock in folde , And of them slew at pleasure what they wolde : Of which whenas they feasted had their fill , For a full complement of all their ill , They stole away , and tooke their hastie flight , Carried in clowdes of all-concealing night . So was the husbandman left to his losse , And they vnto their fortunes change to tosse . After which sort they wandered long while , Abusing manie through their cloaked guile ; That at the last they gan to be descryed Of euerie one , and all their sleights espyed . So as their begging now them failed quyte ; For none would giue , but all men would them wyte : Yet would they take no paines to get their liuing , But seeke some other way to gaine by giuing , Much like to begging but much better named ; For manie beg , which are thereof ashamed . And now the Foxe had gotten him a gowne , And th' Ape a cassocke sidelong hanging downe ; For they their occupation meant to change , And now in other state abroad to range : For since their souldiers pas no better spedd , They forg'd another , as for Clerkes booke-redd . Who passing foorth , as their aduentures fell , Through manie haps , which needs not here to tell ; At length chaunst with a formall Priest to meete , Whom they in ciuill manner first did greete , And after askt an almes for Gods deare loue . The man straight way his choler vp did moue , And with reproachfull tearmes gan them reuile , For following that trade so base and vile ; And askt what license , or what Pas they had ? Ah ( said the Ape as sighing wondrous sad ) It s an hard case , when men of good deseruing Must either driuen be perforce to steruing , Or asked for their pas by euerie squib , That list at will them to reuile or snib : And yet ( God wote ) small oddes I often see Twixt them that aske , and them that asked bee . Natheles because you shall not vs misdeeme , But that we are as honest as we seeme , Yee shall our pasport at your pleasure see , And then ye will ( I hope ) well mooued bee . Which when the Priest beheld , he vew'd it nere , As if therein some text he studying were , But little els ( God wote ) could thereof skill : For read he could not euidence , nor will , Ne tell a written word , ne write a letter Ne make one title worse , ne make one better : Of such deep learning little had he neede , Ne yet of Latine , ne of Greeke , that breede Doubts mongst Diuines , and difference of texts , From whence arise diuersitie of sects , And hatefull heresies , of God abhor'd : But this good Sir did follow the plaine word , Ne medled with their controuersies vaine , All his care was , his seruice well to saine , And to read Homelies vpon holidayes : When that was done , he might attend his playes ; An easie life , and fit high God to please . He hauing ouerlookt their pas at ease , Gan at the length them to rebuke againe , That no good trade of life did entertaine , But lost their time in wandring loose abroad , Seeing the world , in which they bootles boad , Had wayes enough for all therein to liue ; Such grace did God vnto his creatures giue . Said then the Foxe ; who hath the world not tride . From the right way full each may wander wide . We are but Nouices , new come abroad , We haue not yet the tract of anie troad , Nor on vs taken anie state of life , But readie are of anie to make preife . Therefore might please you , which the world haue proued , Vs to aduise , which forth but lately moued , Of some good course , that we might vndertake ; Ye shall for euer vs your bondmen make . The Priest gan wexe halfe proud to be so praide , And thereby willing to affoord them aide ; It seemes ( said he ) right well that ye be Clerks , Both by your wittie words , and by your werks . Is not that name enough to make a liuing To him that hath a whit of Natures giuing ? How manie honest men see ye arize Daylie thereby , and grow to goodly prize ? To Deanes , to Archdeacons , to Commissaries , To Lords , to Principalls , to Prebendaries ; All iolly Prelates , worthie rule to beare , Who euer them enuie : yet spite bites neare . Why should ye doubt then , but that ye likewise Might vnto some of those in time arise ? In the meane time to liue in good estate , Louing that loue , and hating those that hate ; Being some honest Curate , or some Vicker Content with little in condition sicker . Ah but ( said th' ape ) the Charge is wondrous great , To feed mens soules , and hath an heauie threat . To feede mens soules ( quoth he ) is not in man : For they must feed themselues , doo what we can . We are but charg'd to lay the meate before : Eate they that list , we need to doo no more . But God it is that feedes them with his grace , The bread of life powr'd downe from heauenly place . Therefore said he , that with the budding rod Did rule the Iewes , All shal be taught of God . That same hath Iesus Christ now to him raught , By whom the flock is rightly fed , and taught : He is the Shepheard , and the Priest is hee ; We but his shepheard swaines ordain'd to bee . Therefore herewith doo not your selfe dismay ; Ne is the paines so great , but beare ye may ; For not so great as it was wont of yore , It 's now a dayes , ne halfe so streight and sore : They whilome vsed duly euerie day Their seruice and their holie things to say , At morne and euen , besides their Anthemes sweete , Their penie Masses , and their Complynes meete , Their Dirges , their Trentals , and their shrifts , Their memories , their singings , and their gifts . Now all those needlesse works are laid away ; Now once a weeke vpon the Sabbath day , It is enough to doo our small deuotion , And then to follow any merrie motion . Ne are we tyde to fast , but when we list , Ne to weare garments base of wollen twist , But with the finest silkes vs to aray , That before God we may appeare more gay , Resembling Aarons glorie in his place : For farre vnfit it is , that person bace Should with vile cloaths approach Gods maiestie , Whom no vncleannes may approachen nie : Or that all men , which anie master serue , Good garments for their seruice should deserue ; But he that serues the Lord of hoasts most high , And that in highest place , t' approach him nigh , And all the peoples prayers to present Before his throne , as on ambassage sent Both too and fro , should not deserue to weare A garment better , than of wooll or heare . Beside we may haue lying by our sides Our louely Lasses , or bright shining Brides : We be not tyde to wilfull chastitie , But haue the Gospell of free libertie . By that he ended had his ghostly sermon , The Foxe was well induc'd to be a Parson ; And of the Priest eftsoones gan to enquire , How to a Benefice he might aspire . Marie there ( said the Priest ) is arte indeed . Much good deep learning one thereout may reed , For that the ground-worke is , and end of all , How to obtaine a Beneficiall . First therefore , when ye haue in handsome wise Your selfe attyred , as you can deuise , Then to some Noble man your selfe applye , Or other great one in the worldes eye , That hath a zealous disposition To God , and so to his religion : There must thou fashion eke a godly zeale , Such as no carpers may contrayre reueale : For each thing fained , ought more warie bee . There thou must walke in sober grauitee , And seeme as Saintlike as Saint Radegund : Fast much , pray oft , looke lowly on the ground , And vnto euerie one doo curtesie meeke : These lookes ( nought saying ) doo a benefice seeke , And be thou sure one not to lacke or long . But if thee list vnto the Court to throng , And there to hunt after the hoped pray , Then must thou thee dispose another way : For there thou needs must learne , to laugh , to lie , To face , to forge , to scoffe , to companie , To crouche , to please , to be a beetle stock Of thy great Masters will , to scorne , or mock : So maist thou chaunce mock out a Benefice , Vnlesse thou canst one coniure by deuice , Or cast a figure for a Bishoprick : And if one could , it were but a schoole-trick . These be the wayes , by which without reward Liuings in Court be gotten , though full hard . For nothing there is done without a fee : The Courtier needes must recompenced bee With a Beneuolence , or haue in gage The Primitias of your Parsonage : Scarse can a Bishoprick forpas them by , But that it must be gelt in priuitie . Doo not thou therefore seeke a liuing there , But of more priuate persons seeke elswhere , Whereas thou maist compound a better penie , Ne let thy learning question'd be of anie . For some good Gentleman that hath the right Vnto his Church for to present a wight , Will cope with thee in reasonable wise ; That if the liuing yerely doo arise To fortie pound , that then his yongest sonne Shall twentie haue , and twentie thou hast wonne : Thou hast it wonne , for it is of franke gift , And he will care for all the rest to shift ; Both that the Bishop may admit of thee , And that therein thou maist maintained bee . This is the way for one that is vnlern'd Liuing to get , and not to be discern'd . But they that are great Clerkes , haue nearer wayes , For learning sake to liuing them to raise : Yet manie eke of them ( God wote ) are driuen , T' accept a Benefice in peeces riuen . How saist thou ( friend ) haue I not well discourst Vpon this Common place ( though plaine , not wourst ) ? Better a short tale , than a bad long shriuing . Needes anie more to learne to get a liuing ? Now sure and by my hallidome ( quoth he ) Ye a great master are in your degree : Great thankes I yeeld you for your discipline , And doo not doubt , but duly to encline My wits theretoo , as ye shall shortly heare . The Priest him wisht good speed , and well to fare . So parted they , as eithers way them led . But th' Ape and Foxe ere long so well them sped , Through the Priests holesome counsell lately tought , And throgh their own faire handling wisely wroght , That they a Benefice twixt them obtained ; And craftie Reynold was a Priest ordained ; And th' Ape his Parish Clarke procur'd to bee . Then made they reuell route and goodly glee . But ere long time had passed , they so ill Did order their affaires , that th' euill will Of all their Parishners they had constraind ; Who to the Ordinarie of them complain'd , How fowlie they their offices abusd' , And them of crimes and heresies accusd' ; That Pursiuants he often for them sent : But they neglected his commaundement . So long persisted obstinate and bolde , Till at the length he published to holde A Visitation , and them cyted thether : Then was high time their wits about to geather ; What did they then , but made a composition With their next neighbor Priest for light condition , To whom their liuing they resigned quight For a few pence , and ran away by night . So passing through the Countrey in disguize , They fled farre off , where none might them surprize , And after that long straied here and there , Through euerie field and forrest farre and nere ; Yet neuer found occasion for their tourne , But almost steru'd , did much lament and mourne . At last they chaunst to meete vpon the way The Mule , all deckt in goodly rich aray , With bells and bosses , that full lowdly rung , And costly trappings , that to ground downe hung . Lowly they him saluted in meeke wise , But he through pride and fatnes gan despise Their meanesse ; scarce vouchsafte them to requite . Whereat the Foxe deep groning in his sprite , Said , Ah sir Mule , now blessed be the day , That I see you so goodly and so gay In your attyres , and eke your silken hyde Fil'd with round flesh , that euerie bone doth hide . Seemes that in fruitfull pastures ye doo liue , Or fortune doth you secret fauour giue . Foolish Foxe ( said the Mule ) thy wretched need Praiseth the thing that doth thy sorrow breed . For well I weene , thou canst not but enuie My wealth , compar'd to thine owne miserie , That art so leane and meagre waxen late , That scarse thy legs vphold thy feeble gate . Ay me ( said then the Foxe ) whom euill hap Vnworthy in such wretchednes doth wrap , And makes the scorne of other beasts to bee : But read ( faire Sir , of grace ) from whence come yee ? Or what of tidings you abroad doo heare ? Newes may perhaps some good vnweeting beare . From royall Court I lately came ( said he ) Where all the brauerie that eye may see , And all the happinesse that heart desire , Is to be found ; he nothing can admire , That hath not seene that heauens portracture : But tidings there is none I you assure , Saue that which common is , and knowne to all , That Courtiers as the tide doo rise and fall . But tell vs ( said the Ape ) we doo you pray , Who now in Court doth beare the greatest sway . That if such fortune doo to vs befall , We may seeke fauour of the best of all . Marie ( said he ) the highest now in grace , Be the wilde beasts , that swiftest are in chase ; For in their speedie course and nimble flight The Lyon now doth take the most delight : But chieflie , ioyes on foote them to beholde , Enchaste with chaine and circulet of golde : So wilde a beast so tame ytaught to bee , And buxome to his bands is ioy to see . So well his golden Circlet him beseemeth : But his late chayne his Liege vnmeete esteemeth ; For so braue beasts she loueth best to see , In the wilde forrest raunging fresh and free . Therefore if fortune thee in Court to liue , In case thou euer there wilt hope to thriue , To some of these thou must thy selfe apply : Els as a thistle-downe in th' ayre doth flie , So vainly shalt thou too and fro be tost , And loose thy labour and thy fruitles cost . And yet full few , which follow them I see , For vertues bare regard aduaunced bee , But either for some gainfull benefit , Or that they may for their owne turnes be fit . Nath'les perhaps ye things may handle soe , That ye may better thriue than thousands moe . But ( said the Ape ) how shall we first come in , That after we may fauour seeke to win ? How els ( said he ) but with a good bold face , And with big words , and with a stately pace , That men may thinke of you in generall , That to be in you , which is not all : For not by that which is , the world now deemeth , ( As it was wont ) but by that same that seemeth . Ne do I doubt , but that ye well can fashion Your selues theretoo , according to occasion : So fare ye well , good Courtiers may ye bee ; So proudlie neighing from them parted hee . Then gan this craftie couple to deuize , How for the Court themselues they might aguize : For thither they themselues meant to addresse , In hope to finde there happier successe , So well they shifted , that the Ape anon Himselfe had cloathed like a Gentleman , And the slie Foxe , as like to be his groome , That to the Court in seemly sort they come . Where the fond Ape himselfe vprearing hy Vpon his tiptoes , stalketh stately by , As if he were some great Magnifico , And boldlie doth amongst the boldest go . And his man Reynold with fine counterfesaunce Supports his credite and his countenaunce . Then gan the Courtiers gaze on euerie side , And stare on him , with big lookes basen wide , Wondring what mister wight he was , and whence : For he was clad in strange accoustrements , Fashion'd with queint deuises neuer seene In Court before , yet there all fashions beene : Yet he them in new fanglenesse did pas : But his behauiour altogether was Alla Turchesca , much the more admyr'd , And his lookes loftie , as if he aspyr'd To dignitie , and sdeign'd the low degree ; That all which did such strangenesse in him see , By secrete meanes gan of his state enquire , And priuily his seruant thereto hire : Who throughly arm'd against such couerture , Reported vnto all , that he was sure A noble Gentleman of high regard , Which through the world had with long trauel far'd , And seene the manners of all beasts on ground ; Now here arriu'd , to see if like he found . Thus did the Ape at first him credit gaine , Which afterwards he wisely did maintaine With gallant showe , and daylie more augment Through his fine feates and Courtly complement ; For he could play , and daunce , and vaute , and spring , And all that els pertaines to reueling , Onely through kindly aptnes of his ioynts . Besides he could doo manie other poynts , The which in Court him serued to good stead : For he mongst Ladies could their fortunes read Out of their hands , and merie leasings tell , And iuggle finely , that became him well : But he so light was at legier demaine , That what he toucht , came not to light againe ; Yet would he laugh it out , and proudly looke , And tell them , that they greatly him mistooke . So would he scoffe them out with mockerie , For he therein had great felicitie : And with sharp quips ioy'd others to deface , Thinking that their disgracing did him grace : So whilst that other like vaine wits he pleased , And made to laugh , his heart was greatly eased . But the right gentle minde would bite his lip , To heare the Iauell so good men to nip : For though the vulgar yeeld an open eare . And common Courtiers loue to gybe and fleare At euerie thing , which they heare spoken ill , And the best speaches with ill meaning spill ; Yet the braue Courtier , in whose beauteous thought Regard of honour harbours more than ought , Doth loath such base condition , to backbite Anies good name for enuie or despite : He stands on tearmes of honourable minde , Ne will be carried with the common winde Of Courts inconstant mutabilitie , Ne after euerie tattling fable flie ; But heares , and sees the follies of the rest , And thereof gathers for himselfe the best : He will not creepe , nor crouche with fained face , But walkes vpright with comely stedfast pace , And vnto all doth yeeld due curtesie ; But not with kissed hand belowe the knee , As that same Apish crue is wont to doo : For he disdaines himselfe t' embase theretoo , He hates fowle leasings , and vile flatterie , Two filthie blots in noble Gentrie ; And lothefull idlenes he doth detest , The canker worme of euerie gentle brest ; The which to banish with faire exercise Of knightly feates , he daylie doth deuise : Now menaging the mouthes of stubborne steedes , Now practising the proofe of warlike deedes , Now his bright armes assaying , now his speare , Now the nigh aymed ring away to beare ; At other times he casts to sew the chace Of swift wilde beasts , or runne on foote a race , T' enlarge his breath ( large breath in armes most needfull Or els by wrestling to wex strong and heedfull , Or his stiffe armes to stretch with Eughen bowe , And manly legs , still passing too and fro , Without a gowned beast him fast beside ; A vaine ensample of the Persian pride , Who after he had wonne th' Assyrian foe , Did euer after scorne on foote to goe . Thus when this Courtly Gentleman with toyle Himselfe hath wearied , he doth recoyle Vnto his rest , and there with sweete delight Of Musicks skill reuiues his toyled spright , Or els with Loues , and Ladies gentle sports , The ioy of youth , himselfe he recomforts : Or lastly , when the bodie list to pause , His minde vnto the Muses he withdrawes ; Sweete Ladie Muses , Ladies of delight , Delights of life , and ornaments of light : With whom he close confers with wise discourse , Of Natures workes , of heauens continuall course , Of forreine lands , of people different , Of kingdomes change , of diuers gouernment , Of dreadfull battailes of renowmed Knights ; With which he kindleth his ambitious sprights To like desire and praise of noble fame , The onely vpshot whereto he doth ayme : For all his minde on honour fixed is , To which he leuels all his purposis , And in his Princes seruice spends his dayes , Not so much for to gaine , or for to raise Himselfe to high degree , as for his grace , And in his liking to winne worthie place ; Through due deserts and comely carriage , In whatso please employ his personage , That may be matter meete to gaine him praise ; For he is fit to vse in all assayes , Whether for Armes and warlike amenaunce , Or else for wise and ciuill gouernaunce . For he is practiz'd well in policie , And thereto doth his Courting most applie : To learne the enterdeale of Princes strange , To marke th' intent of Counsells , and the change Of states , and eke of priuate men somewhile , Supplanted by fine falshood and faire guile ; Of all the which he gathereth , what is fit T' enrich the storehouse of his powerfull wit , Which through wise speaches , and graue conference He daylie eekes , and brings to excellence . Such is the rightfull Courtier in his kinde : But vnto such the Ape lent not his minde ; Such were for him no fit companions , Such would descrie his lewd conditions : But the yong lustie gallants he did chose To follow , meete to whom he might disclose His witlesse pleasance , and ill pleasing vaine . A thousand wayes he them could entertaine , With all the thriftles games , that may be found With mumming and with masking all around , With dice , with cards , with balliards farre vnfit , With shuttelcocks . misseeming manlie wit , With courtizans , and costly riotize , Whereof still somewhat to his share did rize : Ne , them to pleasure , would he sometimes scorne A Pandares coate ( so basely was he borne ) ; Thereto he could fine louing verses frame , And play the Poet oft . But ah , for shame Let not sweete Poets praise , whose onely pride Is vertue to aduaunce , and vice deride , Be with the worke of losels wit defamed , Ne let such verses Poetrie be named : Yet he the name on him would rashly take , Maugre the sacred Muses , and it make A seruant to the vile affection Of such , as he depended most vpon , And with the sugrie sweete thereof allure Chast Ladies eares to fantasies impure . To such delights the noble wits he led Which him relieu'd , and their vaine humours fed With fruitles follies , and vnsound delights . But if perhaps into their noble sprights Desire of honor , or braue thought of armes Did euer creepe , then with his wicked charmes And strong conceipts he would it driue away , Ne suffer it to house there halfe a day . And whenso loue of letters did inspire Their gentle wits , and kindly wise desire , That chieflie doth each noble minde adorne , Then he would scoffe at learning , and eke scorne The Sectaries thereof , as people base And simple men , which neuer came in place Of worlds affaires , but in darke corners mewd , Muttred of matters , as their bookes them shewd , Ne other knowledge euer did attaine , But with their gownes their grauitie maintaine . From them he would his impudent lewde speach Against Gods holie Ministers oft reach , And mocke Diuines and their profession : What else then did he by progression , But mocke high God himselfe , whom they professe ? But what car'd he for God , or godlinesse ? All his care was himselfe how to aduaunce , And to vphold his courtly countenaunce By all the cunning meanes he could deuise ; Were it by honest wayes , or otherwise , He made small choyce : yet sure his honestie Got him small gaines , but shameles flatterie , And filthie brocage , and vnseemly shifts , And borowe base , and some good Ladies gifts : But the best helpe , which chiefly him sustain'd , Was his man Raynolds purchase which he gain'd . For he was school'd by kinde in all the skill Of close conueyance , and each practise ill Of coosinage and cleanly knauerie , Which oft maintain'd his masters brauerie . Besides he vsde another slipprie slight , In taking on himselfe in common sight , False personages fit for euerie sted , With which he thousands cleanly coosined : Now like a Merchant , Merchants to deceaue , With whom his credite he did often leaue In gage , for his gay Masters hopelesse dett : Now like a Lawyer , when he land would lett , Or sell fee-simples in his Masters name , Which he had neuer , nor ought like the same : Then would he be a Broker , and draw in Both wares and money , by exchange to win : Then would he seeme a Farmer , that would sell Bargaines of woods , which he did lately fell , Or corne , or cattle , or such other ware , Thereby to coosin men not well aware ; Of all the which there came a secret fee To th' Ape , that he his countenaunce might bee . Besides all this , he vsd' oft to beguile Poore suters , that in Court did haunt some while : For he would learne their busines secretly , And then informe his Master hastely , That he by meanes might cast them to preuent , And beg the sute , the which the other ment . Or otherwise false Reynold would abuse The simple Suter , and wish him to chuse His Master , being one of great regard In Court , to compas anie sute not hard , In case his paines were recompenst with reason : So would he worke the silly man by treason To buy his Masters friuolous good will , That had not power to doo him good or ill . So pitifull a thing is Suters state . Most miserable man , whom wicked fate Hath brought to Court , to sue for had ywist , That few haue found , and manie one hath mist ; Full little knowest thou that hast not tride , What hell it is , in suing long to bide : To loose good dayes , that might be better spent ; To wast long nights in pensiue discontent ; To speed to day , to be put back to morrow ; To feed on hope , to pine with feare and sorrow ; To haue thy Princes grace , yet want her Peeres ; To haue thy asking , yet waite manie yeeres ; To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares ; To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires ; To fawne , to crowche , to waite , to ride , to ronne , To spend , to giue , to want , to be vndonne . Vnhappie wight , borne to desastrous end , That doth his life in so long tendance spend . Who euer leaues sweete home , where meane estate In safe assurance , without strife or hate , Findes all things needfull for contentment meeke ; And will to Court for shadowes vaine to seeke , Or hope to gaine , himselfe will a daw trie : That curse God send vnto mine enemie . For none but such as this bold Ape vnblest , Can euer thriue in that vnluckie quest ; Or such as hath a Reynold to his man , That by his shifts his Master furnish can . But yet this Foxe could not so closely hide His craftie feates , but that they were descride At length , by such as sate in iustice seate , Who for the same him fowlie did entreate ; And hauing worthily him punished , Out of the Court for euer banished . And now the Ape wanting his huckster man , That wont prouide his necessaries , gan To growe into great lacke , ne could vpholde His countenaunce in those his garments olde ; Ne new ones could he easily prouide , Though all men him vncased gan deride , Like as a Puppit placed in a play , Whose part once past all men bid take away : So that he driuen was to great distresse , And shortly brought to hopelesse wretchednesse . Then closely as he might he cast to leaue The Court , not asking any passe or leaue ; But ran away in his rent rags by night , Ne euer stayd in place , ne spake to wight , Till that the Foxe his copesmate he had found , To whome complayning his vnhappy stound , At last againe with him in trauell ioynd , And with him far'd some better chaunce to fynde . So in the world long time they wandered , And mickle want and hardnesse suffered ; That them repented much so foolishly To come so farre to seeke for misery , And leaue the sweetnes of contented home , Though eating hipps , and drinking watry fome . Thus as they them complayned too and fro , Whilst through the forest rechlesse they did goe , Lo where they spide , how in a gloomy glade , The Lyon sleeping lay in secret shade , His Crowne and Scepter lying him beside , And hauing doft for heate his dreadfull hide : Which when they sawe , the Ape was sore afrayde , And would haue fled with terror all dismayde . But him the Foxe with hardy words did stay , And bad him put all cowardize away : For now was time ( if euer they would hope ) To ayme their counsels to the fairest scope , And them for euer highly to aduaunce , In case the good which their owne happie chaunce Them freely offred , they would wisely take . Scarse could the Ape yet speake , so did he quake , Yet as he could , he askt how good might growe , Where nought but dread & death do seeme in show . Now ( sayd he ) whiles the Lyon sleepeth sound , May we his Crowne and Mace take from the ground , And eke his skinne the terror of the wood , Wherewith we may our selues ( if we thinke good ) Make Kings of Beasts , and Lords of forests all , Subiect vnto that powre imperiall . Ah but ( sayd the Ape ) who is so bold a wretch , That dare his hardy hand to those outstretch : When as he knowes his meede , if he be spide , To be a thousand deathes , and shame beside ? Fond Ape ( sayd then the Foxe ) into whose brest Neuer crept thought of honor , nor braue gest , Who will not venture life a King to be , And rather rule and raigne in soueraign see , Than dwell in dust inglorious and bace , Where none shall name the number of his place ? One ioyous houre in blisfull happines , I chose before a life of wretchednes . Be therefore counselled herein by me , And shake off this vile harted cowardree . If he awake , yet is not death the next , For we may coulor it with some pretext Of this , or that , that may excuse the cryme : Else we may flye ; thou to a tree mayst clyme , And I creepe vnder ground ; both from his reach : Therefore be rul'd to doo as I doo teach . The Ape , that earst did nought but chill and quake , Now gan some courage vnto him to take , And was content to attempt that enterprise , Tickled with glorie and rash couetise . But first gan question , whither should assay Those royall ornaments to steale away ? Marie that shall your selfe ( quoth he theretoo ) For ye be fine and nimble it to doo ; Of all the beasts which in the forrests bee , Is not a fitter for this turne than yee : Therefore , mine owne deare brother take good hart , And euer thinke a Kingdome is your part . Loath was the Ape , though praised , to aduenter , Yet faintly gan into his worke to enter , Afraid of euerie leafe , that stir'd him by , And euerie stick , that vnderneath did ly ; Vpon his tiptoes nicely he vp went , For making noyse , and still his eare he lent To euerie sound , that vnder heauen blew , Now went , now stept , now crept , now backward drew , That it good sport had been him to haue eyde : Yet at the last ( so well he him applyde , ) Through his fine handling , and cleanly play , He all those royall signes had stolne away , And with the Foxes helpe them borne aside , Into a secret corner vnespide . Whether whenas they came , they fell at words , Whether of them should be the Lord of Lords : For th' Ape was stryfull , and ambicious ; And the Foxe guilefull , and most couetous , That neither pleased was , to haue the rayne Twixt them diuided into euen twaine , But either ( algates ) would be Lords alone : For Loue and Lordship bide no paragone . I am most worthie ( said the Ape ) sith I For it did put my life in ieopardie : Thereto I am in person , and in stature Most like a man , the Lord of euerie creature ; So that it seemeth I was made to raigne , And borne to be a Kingly soueraigne . Nay ( said the Foxe ) Sir Ape you are astray : For though to steale the Diademe away Were the worke of your nimble hand , yet I Did first deuise the plot by pollicie ; So that it wholly springeth from my wit : For which also I claime my selfe more fit Than you , to rule : for gouernment of state Will without wisedome soone be ruinate . And where ye claime your selfe for outward shape Most like a man , Man is not like an Ape In his chiefe parts , that is , in wit and spirite ; But I therein most like to him doo merite For my slie wyles and subtill craftinesse , The title of the Kingdome to possesse . Nath'les ( my brother ) since we passed are Vnto this point , we will appease our iarre , And I with reason meete will rest content , That ye shall haue both crowne and gouernment , Vpon condition , that ye ruled bee In all affaires , and counselled by mee ; And that ye let none other euer drawe Your minde from me , but keepe this as a lawe : And herevpon an oath vnto me plight . The Ape was glad to end the strife so light , And thereto swore : for who would not oft sweare , And oft vnsweare a Diademe to beare ? Then freely vp those royall spoyles he tooke , Yet at the Lyons skin he inly quooke ; But it dissembled , and vpon his head The Crowne , and on his backe the skin he did , And the false Foxe him helped to array . Then when he was all dight he tooke his way Into the forest , that he might be seene Of the wilde beasts in his new glory sheene . There the two first , whome he encountred , were The Sheepe and th' asse , who striken both with feare At sight of him , gan fast away to flye , But vnto them the Foxe alowd did cry , And in the Kings name bad them both to stay , Vpon the payne that thereof follow may . Hardly naythles were they restrayned so , Till that the Foxe forth toward them did goe , And there disswaded them from needlesse feare , For that the King did fauour to them beare ; And therefore dreadles bad them come to Corte : For no wild beasts should do them any torte There or abroad , ne would his maiestye Vse them but well , with gracious clemencye , As whome he knew to him both fast and true ; So he perswaded them , with homage due Themselues to humble to the Ape prostrate , Who gently to them bowing in his gate , Receyued them with chearefull entertayne . Thenceforth proceeding with his princely trayne , He shortly met the Tygre , and the Bore , Which with the simple Camell raged sore In bitter words , seeking to take occasion , Vpon his fleshly corpse to make inuasion : But soone as they this mock-King did espy , Their troublous strife they stinted by and by , Thinking indeed that it the Lyon was : He then to proue , whether his powre would pas As currant , sent the Foxe to them streight way , Commaunding them their cause of strife bewray ; And if that wrong on eyther side there were , That he should warne the wronger to appeare The morrow next at Court , it to defend ; In the meane time vpon the King t' attend . The subtile Foxe so well his message sayd , That the proud beasts him readily obayd : Whereby the Ape in wondrous stomack woxe , Strongly encorag'd by the crafty Foxe ; That King indeed himselfe he shortly thought , And all the Beasts him feared as they ought : And followed vnto his palaice hye , Where taking Couge , each one by and by Departed to his home in dreadfull awe , Full of the feared sight , which late they sawe . The Ape thus seized of the Regall throne , Eftsones by counsell of the Foxe alone , Gan to prouide for all things in assurance , That so his rule might lenger haue endurance . First to his Gate he pointed a strong gard , That none might enter but with issue hard : Then for the safegard of his personage , He did appoint a warlike equipage Of forreine beasts , not in the forest bred , But part by land , and part by water fed ; For tyrannie is with strange ayde supported . Then vnto him all monstrous beasts resorted Bred of two kindes , as Griffons , Minotaures , Crocodiles , Dragons , Beauers , and Centaures : With those himselfe he strengthned mightelie , That feare he neede no force of enemie . Then gan he rule and tyrannize at will , Like as the Foxe did guide his graceles skill , And all wylde beasts made vassals of his pleasures , And with their spoyles enlarg'd his priuate treasures . No care of iustice , nor no rule of reason , No temperance , nor no regard of season Did thenceforth euer enter in his minde , But crueltie , the signe of currish kinde , And sdeignfull pride , and wilfull arrogaunce ; Such followes those whom fortune doth aduaunce . But the false Foxe most kindly plaid his part : For whatsoeuer mother wit , or arte Could worke , he put in proofe : no practise slie , No counterpoint of cunning policie , No reach , no breach , that might him profit bring , But he the same did to his purpose wring . Nought suffered he the Ape to giue or graunt , But through his hand must passe the Fiaunt . All offices , all leases by him lept , And of them all whatso he likte , he kept . Iustice he solde iniustice for to buy , And for to purchase for his progeny . Ill might it prosper , that ill gotten was , But so he got it , little did he pas . He fed his cubs with fat of all the soyle , And with the sweete of others sweating toyle , He crammed them with crumbs of Benefices , And fild their mouthes with meeds of malefices , He cloathed them with all colours saue white , And loded them with lordships and with might , So much as they were able well to beare , That with the weight their backs nigh broken were ; He chaffred Chayres in which Churchmen were set , And breach of lawes to priuie ferme did let ; No statute so established might bee , Nor ordinaunce so needfull , but that hee Would violate , though not with violence , Yet vnder colour of the confidence The which the Ape reposd' in him alone , And reckned him the kingdomes corner stone . And euer when he ought would bring to pas , His long experience the platforme was : And when he ought not pleasing would put by , The cloke was care of thrift , and husbandry , For to encrease the common treasures store ; But his owne treasure he encreased more And lifted vp his loftie towres thereby , That they began to threat the neighbour sky ; The whiles the Princes pallaces fell fast To ruine : ( for what thing can euer last ? ) And whilest the other Peeres , for pouertie Were forst their auncient houses to let lie , And their olde Castles to the ground to fall , Which their forefathers famous ouer all Had founded for the Kingdomes ornament , And for their memories long moniment . But he no count made of Nobilitie , Nor the wilde beasts whom armes did glorifie , The Realmes chiefe strength & girlond of the crowne . All these through fained crimes he thrust adowne , Or made them dwell in darknes of disgrace : For none , but whom he list might come in place . Of men of armes he had but small regard , But kept them lowe , and streigned verie hard . For men of learning little he esteemed ; His wisedome he aboue their learning deemed . As for the rascall Commons least he cared ; For not so common was his bountie shared ; Let God ( said he ) if please , care for the manie , I for my selfe must care before els anie : So did he good to none , to manie ill , So did he all the kingdome rob and pill , Yet none durst speake , ne none durst of him plaine ; So great he was in grace , and rich through gaine . Ne would he anie let to haue accesse Vnto the Prince , but by his owne addresse : For all that els did come , were sure to faile , Yet would he further none but for auaile . For on a time the Sheepe , to whom of yore The Foxe had promised of friendship store , What time the Ape the kingdome first did gaine , Came to the Court , her case there to complaine , How that the Wolfe her mortall enemie Had sithence slaine her Lambe most cruellie ; And therefore crau'd to come vnto the King , To let him knowe the order of the thing . Soft Gooddie Sheepe ( then said the Foxe ) not soe : Vnto the King so rash ye may not goe , He is with greater matter busied , Than a Lambe , or the Lambes owne mothers hed . Ne certes may I take it well in part , That ye my cousin Wolfe so fowly thwart , And seeke with slaunder his good name to blot : For there was cause , els doo it he would not . Therefore surcease good Dame , and hence depart . So went the Sheepe away with heauie hart . So manie moe , so euerie one was vsed , That to giue largely to the boxe refused . Now when high Ioue , in whose almightie hand The care of Kings , and power of Empires stand , Sitting one day within his turret hye , From whence he vewes with his blacklidded eye , Whatso the heauen in his wide vawte containes , And all that in the deepest earth remaines , And troubled kingdome of wilde beasts behelde , Whom not their kindly Souereigne did welde , But an vsurping Ape with guile suborn'd , Had all subuerst , he sdeignfully it scorn'd In his great heart , and hardly did refraine , But that with thunder bolts he had him slaine , And driuen downe to hell , his dewest meed : But him auizing , he that dreadfull deed Forbore , and rather chose with scornfull shame Him to auenge , and blot his brutish name Vnto the world , that neuer after anie Should of his race be voyd of infamie : And his false counsellor , the cause of all , To damne to death , or dole perpetuall , From whence he neuer should be quit , nor stal'd . Forthwith he Mercurie vnto him cal'd , And bad him flie with neuer resting speed Vnto the forrest , where wilde beasts doo breed , And there enquiring priuily , to learne , What did of late chaunce to the Lyon stearne , That he rul'd not the Empire , as he ought ; And whence were all those plaints vnto him brought Of wrongs and spoyles , by saluage beasts committed ; Which done , he bad the Lyon be remitted Into his seate , and those same treachours vile Be punished for their presumptuous guile . The Sonne of Maia soone as he receiu'd That word , streight with his azure wings he cleau'd The liquid clowdes , and lucid firmament ; Ne staid , till that he came with steep descent Vnto the place , where his prescript did showe . There stouping like an arrowe from a bowe , He soft arriued on the grassie plaine , And fairly paced forth with easie paine , Till that vnto the Pallace nigh he came . Then gan he to himselfe new shape to frame , And that faire face , and that Ambrosiall hew , Which wonts to decke the Gods immortall crew , And beautefie the shinie firmament , He doft , vnfit for that rude rabblement . So standing by the gates in strange disguize , He gan enquire of some in secret wize , Both of the King , and of his gouernment , And of the Foxe , and his false blandishment : And euermore he heard each one complaine Of foule abuses both in realme and raine . Which yet to proue more true , he meant to see , And an ey-witnes of each thing to bee . Tho on his head his dreadfull hat he dight , Which maketh him inuisible in sight , And mocketh th' eyes of all the lookers on , Making them thinke it but a vision . Through power of that , he runnes through enemies swerds ; Through power of that , he passeth through the herds Of rauenous wilde beasts , and doth beguile Their greedie mouthes of the expected spoyle ; Through power of that , his cunning theeueries He wonts to worke , that none the same espies ; And through the power of that , he putteth on , What shape he list in apparition . That on his head he wore , and in his hand He tooke Caduceus his snakie wand , With which the damned ghosts he gouerneth , And furies rules , and Tartare tempereth . With that he causeth sleep to seize the eyes , And feare the harts of all his enemyes ; And when him list , an vniuersall night Throughout the world he makes on euerie wight ; As when his Syre with Alcumena lay . Thus dight , into the Court he tooke his way , Both through the gard , which neuer him descride , And through the watchmen , who him neuer spide : Thenceforth he past into each secrete part , Whereas he saw , that sorely grieu'd his hart ; Each place abounding with fowle iniuries , And fild with treasure rackt with robberies : Each place defilde with blood of guiltles beasts , Which had been slaine , to serue the Apes beheasts ; Gluttonie , malice , pride , and couetize , And lawlesnes raigning with riotize ; Besides the infinite extortions , Done through the Foxes great oppressions , That the complaints thereof could not be tolde . Which when he did with lothfull eyes beholde , He would no more endure , but came his way , And cast to seeke the Lion , where he may , That he might worke the auengement for this shame , On those two caytiues , which had bred him blame . And seeking all the forrest busily , At last he found , where sleeping he did ly : The wicked weed , which there the Foxe did lay , From vnderneath his head he tooke away , And then him waking , forced vp to rize . The Lion looking vp gan him auize , As one late in a traunce , what had of long Become of him : for fantasie is strong . Arise ( said Mercurie ) thou sluggish beast , That here liest senseles , like the corpse deceast , The whilste thy kingdome from thy head is rent , And thy throne royall with dishonour blent : Arise , and doo thy selfe redeeme from shame , And be aueng'd on those that breed thy blame . Thereat enraged , soone he gan vpstart , Grinding his teeth , and grating his great hart , And rouzing vp himselfe , for his rough hide He gan to reach ; but no where it espide . Therewith he gan full terribly to rore , And chafte at that indignitie right sore . But when his Crowne and scepter both he wanted , Lord how he fum'd , and sweld , and rag'd , and panted ; And threatned death , & thousand deadly dolours To them that had purloyn'd his Princely honours . With that in hast , disroabed as he was , He toward his owne Pallace forth did pas ; And all the way he roared as he went , That all the forrest with astonishment Thereof did tremble , and the beasts therein Fled fast away from that so dreadfull din. At last he came vnto his mansion , Where all the gates he found fast lockt anon , And manie warders round about them stood : With that he roar'd alowd , as he were wood , That all the Pallace quaked at the stound , As if it quite were riuen from the ground , And all within were dead and hartles left ; And th' Ape himselfe , as one whose wits were reft , Fled here and there , and euerie corner sought , To hide himselfe from his owne feared thought . But the false Foxe when he the Lion heard , Fled closely forth , streightway of death afeard , And to the Lion came , full lowly creeping , With fained face , and watrie eyne halfe weeping , T' excuse his former treason and abusion . And turning all vnto the Apes confusion : Nath'les the royall Beast forbore beleeuing , But bad him stay at ease till further preeuing . Then when he saw no entrance to him graunted , Roaring yet lowder that all harts it daunted , Vpon those gates with force he fiercely flewe , And rending them in pieces , felly slewe Those warders strange , and all that els he met . But th' Ape still flying , he no where might get : From rowme to rowme , from beame to beame he fled All breathles , and for feare now almost ded : Yet him at last the Lyon spide , and caught , And forth with shame vnto his iudgement brought . Then all the beasts he causd' assembled bee , To heare their doome , and sad ensample see : The Foxe , first Author of that treacherie , He did vncase , and then away let flie . But th' Apes long taile ( which then he had ) he quight Cut off , and both eares pared of their hight ; Since which , all Apes but halfe their eares haue left , And of their tailes are vtterlie bereft . So Mother Hubberd her discourse did end : Which pardon me , if I amisse haue pend , For weake was my remembrance it to hold , And bad her tongue that it so bluntly tolde . FINIS .

Ruines of Rome : by Bellay . 1 YE heauenly spirites , whose ashie cinders lie Vnder deep ruines , with huge walls opprest , But not your praise , the which shall neuer die Through your faire verses , ne in ashes rest ; If so be shrilling voyce of wight aliue May reach from hence to depth of darkest hell , Then let those deep Abysses open riue , That ye may vnderstand my shreiking yell . Thrice hauing seene vnder the heauens veale Your toombs deuoted compasse ouer all , Thrice vnto you with lowd voyce I appeale , And for your antique furie here doo call , The whiles that I with sacred horror sing Your glorie , fairest of all earthly thing . 2 Great Babylon her haughtie walls will praise , And sharped steeples high shot vp in ayre ; Greece will the olde Ephesian buildings blaze ; And Nylus nurslings their Pyramides faire ; The same yet vaunting Greece will tell the storie Of Ioues great Image in Olympus placed , Mansolus worke will be the Carians glorie . And Crete will boast the Labyrinth , now raced ; The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth The great Colosse , erect to Memorie ; And what els in the world is of like worth , Some greater learned wit will magnifie . But I will sing aboue all moniments Seuen Romane Hils , the worlds 7. wonderments . 3 Thou stranger , which for Rome in Rome here seekest , And nought of Rome in Rome perceiu'st at all , These same olde walls , olde arches , which thou seest , Olde Palaces is that , which Rome men call . Behold what wreake , what ruine , and what wa st , And how that she , which with her mightie powre Tam'd all the world , hath tam'd herselfe at last , The pray of time , which all things doth deuowre . Rome now of Rome is th' onely funerall , And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie ; Ne ought saue Tyber hastning to his fall Remaines of all : O worlds inconstancie . That which is firme doth flit and fall away , And that is flitting , doth abide and stay . 4 She , whose high top aboue the starres did sore , One foote on Thetis , th' other on the Morning , One hand on Scythia , th' other on the More , Both heauen and earth in roundnesse compassing , Ioue fearing , least if she should greater growe , The old Giants should once againe vprise , Her whelm'd with hills , these 7. hils , which be nowe Tombes of her greatnes , which did threate the skies : Vpon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal , Vpon her bellie th' antique Palatine , Vpon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal , On her left hand the noysome Esquiline , And Caelian on the right ; but both her feete Mount Viminal and Auentine doo meete . 5 Who lists to see , what euer nature , arte , And heauen could doo , O Rome , thee let him see , In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte , By that which but the picture is of thee . Rome is no more : but if the shade of Rome May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight , It 's like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe By Magicke skill out of eternall night : The corpes of Rome in ashes is entombed , And her great spirite reioyned to the spirite Of this great masse , is in the same enwombed ; But her braue writings , which her famous merite In spight of time , out of the dust doth reare , Doo make her Idole through the world appeare . 6 Such as the Berecynthian Goddesse bright In her swift charret with high turrets crownde , Proud that so manie Gods she brought to light ; Such was this Citie in her good daies fownd : This Citie , more than that great Phrygian mother Renowm'd for fruite of famous progenie , Whose greatnes by the greatnes of none other , But by her selfe her equall match could see : Rome onely might to Rome compared bee , And onely Rome could make great Rome to tremble : So did the Gods by heauenly doome decree , That other earthlie power should not resemble Her that did match the whole earths puissaunce , And did her courage to the heauens aduaunce . 7 Ye sacred ruines , and ye tragick sights , Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine , Olde moniments , which of so famous sprights The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine : Triumphant Arcks , spyres neighbours to the skie , That you to see doth th' heauen it selfe appall , Alas , by little ye to nothing flie , The peoples fable , and the spoyle of all : And though your frames do for a time make warre Gainst time , yet time in time shall ruinate Your workes and names , and your last reliques marre . My sad desires , rest therefore moderate : For if that time make ende of things so sure , It als will end the paine , which I endure . 8 Through armes & vassals Rome the world subdu'd , That one would weene , that one sole Cities strength Both land and sea in roundnes had suruew'd , To be the measure of her bredth and length : This peoples vertue yet so fruitfull was Of vertuous nephewes , that posteritie Striuing in power their grandfathers to passe , The lowest earth , ioin'd to the heauen hie ; To th' end that hauing all parts in their power , Nought from the Romane Empire might be quight , And that though time doth Commonwealths deuowre , Yet no time should so low embase their hight , That her head earth'd in her foundations deep , Should not her name and endles honour keep . 9 Ye cruell starres , and eke ye Gods vnkinde , Heauen enuious , and bitter stepdame Nature , Be it by fortune , or by course of kinde That ye doo weld th' affaires of earthlie creature ; Why haue your hands long sithence traueiled To frame this world , that doth endure so long ? Or why were not these Romane palaces Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong ? I say not , as the common voyce doth say , That all things which beneath the Moone haue being Are temporall , and subiect to decay : But I say rather , though not all agreeing With some , that weene the contrarie in thought ; That all this whole shall one day come to nought . 10 As that braue sonne of Aeson , which by charmes Atcheiu'd the golden Fleece in Colchid land , Out of the earth engendred men of armes Of Dragons teeth , sowne in the sacred sand ; So this braue Towne , that in her youthlie daies An Hydra was of warriours glorious , Did fill with her renowmed nourslings praise The firie sunnes both one and other hous : But they at last , there being then not liuing An Hercules , so ranke seed to represse ; Emongst themselues with cruell furie striuing , Mow'd downe themselues with slaughter mercilesse ; Renewing in themselues that rage vnkinde , Which whilom did those earthborn brethren blinde . 11 Mars shaming to haue giuen so great head To his off-spring , that mortall puissaunce Puft vp with pride of Romane hardiehead , Seem'd aboue heauens powre it selfe to aduaunce ; Cooling againe his former kindled heate ; With which he had those Romane spirits fild , Did blowe new fire , and with enflamed breath , Into the Gothicke colde hot rage instil'd : Then gan that Nation , th' earths new Giant brood , To dart abroad the thunder bolts of warre , And beating downe these walls with furious mood Into her mothers bosome , all did marre ; To th' end that none , all were it Ioue his sire Should boast himselfe of the Romane Empire . 12 Like as whilome the children of the earth Heapt hils on hils , to scale the starrie skie , And fight against the Gods of heauenly berth , Whiles Ioue at them his thunderbolts let flie : All suddenly with lightning ouerthrowne , The furious squadrons downe to ground did fall , That th' earth vnder her childrens weight did grone , And th' heauens in glorie triumpht ouer all : So did that haughtie front which heaped was On these seuen Romane hils , it selfe vpreare Ouer the world , and lift her loftie face Against the heauen , that gan her force to feare . But now these scorned fields bemone her fall , And Gods secure feare not her force at all . 13 Nor the swift furie of the flames aspiring , Nor the deep wounds of victours raging blade , Nor ruthlesse spoyle of souldiers blood-desiring , The which so oft thee ( Rome ) their conquest made ; Ne stroke on stroke of fortune variable , Ne rust of age hating continuance , Nor wrath of Gods , nor spight of men vnstable , Nor thou opposd' against thine owne puissance ; Nor th' horrible vprore of windes high blowing , Nor swelling streames of that God snakie-paced , Which hath so often with his overflowing Thee drenched , haue thy pride so much abaced ; But that this nothing , which they haue thee left , Makes the world wonder , what they from thee reft . 14 As men in Summer fearles passe the foord , Which is in Winter lord of all the plaine , And with his tumbling streames doth beare aboord The ploughmans hope , and shepheards labour vaine : And as the coward beasts vse to despise The noble Lion after his liues end , Whetting their teeth , and with vaine foolhardise Daring the foe , that cannot him defend : And as at Troy most dastards of the Greekes Did braue about the corpes of Hector colde ; So those which whilome wont with pallid cheekes The Romane triumphs glorie to behold , Now on these ashie tombes shew boldnesse vaine , And conquer'd dare the Conquerour disdaine . 15 Ye pallid spirits , and ye ashie ghoasts , Which ioying in the brightnes of your day , Brought foorth those signes of your presumptuous boasts Which now their dusty reliques do bewray ; Tell me ye spirits ( sith the darksome riuer Of Styx , not passable to soules returning , Enclosing you in thrice three wards for euer , Doo not restraine your images still mourning ) Tell me then ( for perhaps some one of you Yet here aboue him secretly doth hide ) Doo ye not feele your torments to accrewe , When ye sometimes behold the ruin'd pride Of these old Romane works built with your hands , To become nought els , but heaped sands ? 16 Like as ye see the wrathfull Sea from farre , In a great mountaine heap't with hideous noyse , Eftsoones of thousand billowes shouldred narre , Against a Rocke to breake with dreadfull poyse : Like as ye see fell Boreas with sharpe blast , Tossing huge tempests through the troubled skie , Eftsoones hauing his wide wings spent in wast , To stop his wearie cariere suddenly : And as ye see huge flames spred diuerslie , Gathered in one vp to the heauens to spyre , Eftsoones consum'd to fall downe feebily : So whilom did this Monarchie aspyre As waues , as winde , as fire spred ouer all , Till it by fatall doome adowne did fall . 17 So long as Ioues great Bird did make his flight , Bearing the fire with which heauen doth vs fray , Heauen had not feare of that presumptuous might , With which the Giaunts did the Gods assay . But all so soone , as scortching Sunne had brent His wings , which wont the earth to ouerspredd , The earth out of her massie wombe forth sent That antique horror , which made heauen adredd . Then was the Germane Rauen in disguise That Romane Eagle seene to cleaue asunder , And towards heauen freshly to arise Out of these mountaines , now consum'd to pouder . In which the foule that serues to beare the lightning , Is now no more seen flying , nor alighting . 18 These heapes of stones , these old wals which ye see , Were first enclosures but of saluage soyle ; And these braue Pallaces which maystred bee Of time , were shepheards cottages somewhile . Then tooke the shepheards Kingly ornament And the stout hynde arm'd his right hand with steele : Eftsoones their rule of yearely Presidents Grew great , and sixe months greater a great deele ; Which made perpetuall , rose to so great might , That thence th' Imperiall Eagle rooting tooke , Till th' heauen it selfe opposing gainst her might , Her power to Peters successor betooke ; Who shepheardlike , ( as fates the same foreseeing ) Doth shew , that all things turne to their first being . 19 All that is perfect , which th' heauen beautefies ; All that 's imperfect , borne belowe the Moone ; All that doth feede our spirits and our eies ; And all that doth consume our pleasures soone ; All the mishap , the which our daies outweares , All the good hap of th' oldest times afore , Rome in the time of her great ancesters , Like a Pandora , locked long in store . But destinie this huge Chaos turmoyling , In which all good and euill was enclosed , Their heauenly vertues from these woes assoyling , Caried to heauen , from sinfull bondage losed : But their great sinnes , the causers of their paine , Vnder these antique ruines yet remaine . 20 No otherwise than raynie cloud , first fed With earthly vapours gathered in the ayre , Eftsoones in compas arch't , to steepe his hed , Doth plonge himselfe in Tethys bosome faire ; And mounting vp againe , from whence he came , With his great bellie spreds the dimmed world , Till at the last dissoluing his moist frame , In raine , or snowe , or haile he forth is horld ; This Citie , which was first but shepheards shade , Vprising by degrees , grewe to such height , That Queene of land and sea her selfe she made . At last not able to beare so great weight , Her power disperst , through all the world did vade ; To shew that all in th' end to nought shall fade . 21 The same which Pyrrhus , and the puissaunce Of Afrike could not tame , that same braue Citie , Which with stout courage arm'd against mischaunce , Sustein'd the shocke of common enmitie ; Long as her ship tost with so manie freakes , Had all the world in armes against her bent , Was neuer seene , that anie fortunes wreakes Could breake her course begun with braue intent . But when the obiect of her vertue failed , Her power it selfe against it selfe did arme ; As he that hauing long in tempest sailed , Faine would ariue , but cannot for the storme , If too great winde against the port him driue , Doth in the port it selfe his vessell riue . 22 When that braue honour of the Latine name , Which mear'd her rule with Africa , and Byze , With Thames inhabitants of noble fame , And they which see the dawning day arize ; Her nourslings did with mutinous vprore Harten against her selfe , her conquer'd spoile , Which she had wonne from all the world afore , Of all the world was spoyl'd within a while . So when the compast course of the vniuerse In sixe and thirtie thousand yeares is ronne , The bands of th' elements shall backe reuerse To their first discord , and be quite vndonne : The seedes , of which all things at first were bred , Shall in great Chaos wombe againe be hid . 23 O warie wisedome of the man , that would That Carthage towres from spoile should be forborne , To th' end that his victorious people should With cancring laisure not be ouerworne ; He well foresaw , how that the Romane courage , Impatient of pleasures faint desires , Through idlenes would turne to ciuill rage , And be her selfe the matter of her fires . For in a people giuen all to ease , Ambition is engendred easily ; As in a vicious bodie , grose disease Soone growes through humours superfluitie . That came to passe , when swolne with plenties pride , Nor prince , nor peere , nor kin they would abide . 24 If the blinde furie , which warres breedeth oft , Wonts not t' enrage the hearts of equall beasts , Whether they fare on foote , or flie aloft , Or armed be with clawes , or scalie creasts ; What fell Erynnis with hot burning tongs , Did grype your hearts , with noysome rage imbew'd , That each to other working cruell wrongs , Your blades in your owne bowels you embrew'd ? Was this ( ye Romanes ) your hard destinie ? Or some old sinne , whose vnappeased guilt Powr'd vengeance forth on you eternallie ? Or brothers blood , the which at first was spilt Vpon your walls , that God might not endure , Vpon the same to set foundation sure ? 25 O that I had the Thracian Poets harpe , For to awake out of th' infernall shade Those antique Caesars , sleeping long in darke , The which this auncient Citie whilome made : Or that I had Amphions instrument , To quicken with his vitall notes accord , The stonie ioynts of these old walls now rent , By which th' Ausonian light might be restor'd : Or that at least I could with pencill fine , Fashion the pourtraicts of these Palacis , By paterne of great Virgils spirit diuine ; I would assay with that which in me is , To builde with leuell of my loftie style , That which no hands can euermore compyle . 26 Who list the Romane greatnes forth to figure , Him needeth not to seeke for vsage right Of line , or lead , or rule , or squaire , to measure Her length , her breadth , her deepnes , or her hight , But him behooues to vew in compasse round All that the Ocean graspes in his long armes ; Be it where the yerely starre doth scortch the ground , Or where colde Boreas blowes his bitter stormes . Rome was th' whole world , & al the world was Rome , And if things nam'd their names doo equalize , When land and sea ye name , then name ye Rome ; And naming Rome ye land and sea comprize : For th' auncient Plot of Rome displayed plaine , The map of all the wide world doth containe . 27 Thou that at Rome astonisht dost behold The antique pride , which menaced the skie , These haughtie heapes , these palaces of olde , These wals , these arcks , these baths , these temples hie ; Iudge by these ample ruines vew , the rest The which iniurious time hath quite outworne , Since of all workmen helde in reckning best , Yet these olde fragments are for paternes borne : Then also marke , how Rome from day to day , Repayring her decayed fashion , Renewes herselfe with buildings rich and gay ; That one would iudge , that the Romaine Daemon Doth yet himselfe with fatall hand enforce , Againe on foote to reare her pouldred corse . 28 He that hath seene a great Oke drie and dead , Yet clad with reliques of some Trophees olde , Lifting to heauen her aged hoarie head , Whose foote in ground hath left but feeble holde ; But halfe disbowel'd lies aboue the ground , Shewing her wreathed rootes , and naked armes , And on her trunke all rotten and vnsound Onely supports herselfe for meate of wormes ; And though she owe her fall to the first winde , Yet of the deuout people is ador'd , And manie yong plants spring out of her rinde ; Who such an Oke hath seene , let him record That such this Cities honour was of yore , And mongst all Cities florished much more . 29 All that which Aegypt whilome did deuise , All that which Greece their temples to embraue , After th' ionicke , Atticke , Doricke guise , Or Corinth skil'd in curious workes to graue ; All that Lysippus practike arte could forme , Apelles wit , or Phidias his skill , Was wont this auncient Citie to adorne , And the heauen it selfe with her wide wonders fill ; All that which Athens euer brought forth wise , All that which Afrike euer brought forth strange , All that which Asie euer had of prise , Was here to see . O meruelous great change : Rome liuing , was the worlds sole ornament , And dead , is now the worlds sole moniment . 30 Like as the seeded field greene grasse first showes , Then from greene grasse into a stalke doth spring , And from a stalke into an eare forth-growes , Which eare the frutefull graine doth shortly bring ; And as in season due the husband mowes The wauing lockes of those faire yeallow heares , Which bound in sheaues , and layd in comely rowes , Vpon the naked fields in stalkes he reares : So grew the Romane Empire by degree , Till that Barbarian hands it quite did spill , And left of it but these olde markes to see , Of which all passers by doo somewhat pill : As they which gleane , the reliques vse to gather , Which th' husbandman behind him chanst to scater . 31 That same is now nought but a champian wide , Where all this worlds pride once was situate . No blame to thee , whosoeuer dost abide By Nyle , or Gange , or Tygre , or Euphrate , Ne Afrike thereof guiltie is , nor Spaine , Nor the bolde people by the Thamis brincks , Nor the braue warlicke brood of Alemaine , Nor the borne Souldier which Rhine running drinks : Thou onely cause , ô Ciuill furie , art Which sowing in th' Aemathian fields thy spight , Didst arme thy hand against thy proper hart ; To th' end that when thou wast in greatest hight To greatnes growne , through long prosperitie , Thou then adowne might'st fall more horriblie . 32 Hope ye my verses that posteritie Of age ensuing shall you euer read ? Hope ye that euer immortalitie So meane Harpes worke may chalenge for her meed ? If vnder heauen anie endurance were , These moniments , which not in paper writ , But in Porphyre and Marble doo appeare , Might well haue hop'd to haue obtained it . Nath'les my Lute , whom Phoebus deignd to giue , Cease not to sound these olde antiquities : For if that time doo let thy glorie liue , Well maist thou boast , how euer base thou bee , That thou art first , which of thy Nation song Th' olde honour of the people gowned long . L'Envoy . Bellay , first garland of free Poësie That France brought forth , though fruitfull of braue wits , Well worthie thou of immortalitie , That long hast traueld by thy learned writs , Olde Rome out of her ashes to reuiue , And giue a second life to dead decayes : Needes must he all eternitie suruiue , That can to other giue eternall dayes . Thy dayes therefore are endles , and thy prayse Excelling all , that euer went before ; And after thee , gins Bartas hie to rayse His heauenly Muse , th' Almightie to adore . Liue happie spirits , th' honour of your name , And fill the world with neuer dying fame . FINIS .

MVIOPOTMOS , Or The Fate of the Butterflie .

By ED. SP.

Dedicated to the most faire and vertuous Ladie : the Ladie Carey .

LONDON . Imprinted for William Ponsonbie , dwelling in Paules Churchyard at the signe of the Bishops head .

1590.

To the right worthy and vertuous Ladie ; the La: Carey .

MOst braue and bountifull La: for so excellent fauours as I haue receiued at your sweet handes , to offer these fewe leaues as in recompence , should be as to offer flowers to the Gods for their diuine benefites . Therefore I haue determined to giue my selfe wholy to you , as quite abandoned from my selfe , and absolutely vowed to your seruices : which in all right is euer held for full recompence of debt or damage to haue the person yeelded . My person I wot wel how little worth it is . But the faithfull minde & humble zeale which I beare vnto your La: may perhaps be more of price , as may please you to account and vse the poore seruice thereof ; which taketh glory to aduance your excellent partes and noble vertues , and to spend it selfe in honouring you : not so much for your great bounty to my self , which yet may not be vnminded ; nor for name or kindreds sake by you vouchsafed , beeing also regardable ; as for that honorable name , which yee haue by your braue deserts purchast to your self , & spred in the mouths of al men : with which I haue also presumed to grace my verses , & vnder your name to commend to the world this smal Poëme , the which beseeching your La: to take in worth , and of all things therein according to your wonted graciousnes to make a milde construction , I humbly pray for your happines .

Your La: euer humbly ; E. S.

Muiopotmos : or The Fate of the Butterflie . I Sing of deadly dolorous debate , Stir'd vp through wrathfull Nemesis despight , Betwixt two mightie ones of great estate , Drawne into armes , and proofe of mortall fight , Through prowd ambition , and hartswelling hate , Whilest neither could the others greater might And sdeignfull scorne endure ; that from small iarre Their wraths at length broke into open warre . The roote whereof and tragicall effect , Vouchsafe , O thou the mournfulst Muse of nyne . That wontst the tragick stage for to direct , In funerall complaints and waylfull tyne , Reueale to me , and all the meanes detect , Through which sad Clarion did at last declyne To lowest wretchednes ; And is there then Such rancour in the harts of mightie men ? Of all the race of siluer-winged Flies Which doo possesse the Empire of the aire , Betwixt the centred earth , and azure skies , Was none more fauourable , nor more faire , Whilst heauen did fauour his felicities , Then Clarion , the eldest sonne and haire Of Muscaroll , and in his fathers sight Of all aliue did seeme the fairest wight . With fruitfull hope his aged breast he fed Of future good , which his yong toward yeares , Full of braue courage and bold hardyhed , Aboue th' ensample of his equall peares , Did largely promise , and to him forered ( Whilst oft his heart did melt in tender teares ) That he in time would sure proue such an one , As should be worthie of his fathers throne . The fresh yong flie , in whom the kindly fire Of lustfull yonght began to kindle fast , Did much disdaine to subiect his desire To loathsome sloth , or houres in ease to wast , But ioy'd to range abroad in fresh attire ; Through the wide compas of the ayrie coast , And with vnwearied wings each part t' inquire Of the wide rule of his renowmed sire . For he so swift and nimble was of flight , That from this lower tract he dar'd to stie Vp to the clowdes , and thence with pineons light , To mount aloft vnto the Christall skie , To vew the workmanship of heauens hight : Whence downe descending he along would flie Vpon the streaming riuers , sport to finde ; And oft would dare to tempt the troublous winde . So on a Summers day , when season milde With gentle calme the world had quieted , And high in heauen Hyperions fierie childe Ascending , did his beames abroad dispred , Whiles all the heauens on lower creatures smilde ; Yong Clarion with vauntfull lustie head , After his guize did cast abroad to fare ; And theretoo gan his furnitures prepare . His breastplate first , that was of substance pure , Before his noble heart he firmely bound , That mought his life from yron death assure , And ward his gentle corpes from cruell wound : For it by arte was framed , to endure The bit of balefull steele and bitter stownd , No lesse than that , which Vulcane made to sheild Achilles life from fate of Troyan field . And then about his shoulders broad he threw An hairie hide of some wilde beast , whom hee In saluage forrest by aduenture slew , And rest the spoyle his ornament to bee : Which spredding all his backe with dreadfull vew , Made all that him so horrible did see , Thinke him Alcides with the Lyons skin , When the Naemean Conquest he did win . Vpon his head his glistering Burganet , The which was wrought by wonderous deuice , And curiously engrauen , he did set : The mettall was of rare and passing price ; Not Bilbo steele , nor brasse from Corinth fet , Nor costly Oricalche from strange Phoenice ; But such as could both Phoebus arrowes ward , And th' hayling darts of heauen beating hard . Therein two deadly weapons fixt he bore , Strongly outlaunced towards either side , Like two sharpe speares , his enemies to gore : Like as a warlike Brigandine , applyde To fight , layes forth her threatfull pikes afore , The engines which in them sad death doo hyde : So did this flie outstretch his fearefull hornes , Yet so as him their terrour more adornes . Lastly his shinie wings as siluer bright , Painted with thousand colours , passing farre All Painters skill , he did about him dight : Not halfe so manie sundrie colours arre In Iris bowe , ne heauen doth shine so bright , Distinguished with manie a twinckling starre , Nor Iunoes Bird in her ey-spotted traine So manie goodly colours doth containe . Ne ( may it be withouten perill spoken ) The Archer God , the sonne of Cytheree , That ioyes on wretched louers to be wroken , And heaped spoyles of bleeding harts to see , Beares in his wings so manie a changefull token . Ah my liege Lord , forgiue it vnto mee , If ought against thine honour I haue tolde ; Yet sure those wings were fairer manifolde . Full manie a Ladie faire , in Court full oft Beholding them , him secretly enuide , And wisht that two such fannes , so silken soft , And golden faire , her Loue would her prouide ; Or that when them the gorgeous Flie had doft , Some one that would with grace be gratifide , From him would steale them priuily away , And bring to her so precious a pray . Report is that dame Venus on a day , In spring when flowres doo clothe the fruitful ground , Walking abroad with all her Nymphes to play , Bad her faire damzels flocking her arownd , To gather flowres , her forhead to array : Emongst the rest a gentle Nymph was found , Hight Astery , excelling all the crewe In curteous vsage , and vnstained hewe . Who being nimbler ioynted than the rest , And more industrious , gathered more store Of the fields honour , than the others best ; Which they in secret harts enuying sore , Tolde Venus , when her as the worthiest She praisd' , that Cupide ( as they heard before ) Did lend her secret aide , in gathering Into her lap the children of the spring . Whereof the Goddesse gathering iealous feare , Not yet vnmindfull , how not long agoe Her sonne to Psyche secrete loue did beare , And long it close conceal'd , till mickle woe Thereof arose , and manie a rufull teare ; Reason with sudden rage did ouergoe , And giuing hastie credit to th' accuser , Was led away of them that did abuse her . Eftsoones that Damzel by her heauenly might , She turn'd into a winged Butterflie , In the wide aire to make her wandring flight ; And all those flowres , with which so plenteouslie Her lap she filled had , that bred her spight , She placed in her wings , for memorie Of her pretended crime , though crime none were : Since which that flie them in her wings doth beare . Thus the fresh Clarion being readie dight , Vnto his iourney did himselfe addresse , And with good speed began to take his flight : Ouer the fields in his franke lustinesse , And all the champion he soared light , And all the countrey wide he did possesse , Feeding vpon their pleasures bounteouslie , That none gainsaid , nor none did him enuie . The woods , the riuers , and the medowes green , With his aire-cutting wings he measured wide , Ne did he leaue the mountaines bare vnseene , Nor the ranke grassie fennes delights vntride . But none of these , how euer sweete they beene , Mote please his fancie , nor him cause t' abide : His choicefull sense with euerie change doth flit . No common things may please a wauering wit . To the gay gardins his vnstaid desire Him wholly caried , to refresh his sprights : There lauish Nature in her best attire , Powres forth sweete odors , and alluring sights ; And Arte with her contending , doth aspire T' excell the naturall , with made delights : And all that faire or pleasant may be found , In riotous excesse doth there abound . There he arriuing , round about doth flie , From bed to bed , from one to other border , And takes suruey with curious busie eye , Of euerie flowre and herbe there set in order ; Now this , now that he tasteth tenderly , Yet none of them he rudely doth disorder , Ne with his feete their silken leaues deface ; But pastures on the pleasures of each place . And euermore with most varietie , And change of sweetnesse ( for all change is sweete ) He casts his glutton sense to satisfie , Now sucking of the sap of herbe most meete , Or of the deaw , which yet on them does lie , Now in the same bathing his tender feete : And then he pearcheth on some braunch thereby , To weather him , and his moyst wings to dry . And then againe he turneth to his play , To spoyle the pleasures of that Paradise : The wholsome Saulge , and Lauender still gray , Ranke smelling Rue , and Cummin good for eyes , The Roses raigning in the pride of May , Sharpe Isope , good for greene wounds remedies , Faire Marigoldes , and Bees alluring Thime , Sweete Marioram , and Daysies decking prime . Coole Violets , and Orpine growing still , Embathed Balme , and chearfull Galingale , Fresh Costmarie , and breathfull Camomill , Poppie , and drink-quickning Setuale , Veyne-healing Veruen , and hed-purging Dill , Sound Sauorie , and Bazill hartie-hale , Fat Colworts , and comforting Perseline , Colde Lettuce , and refreshing Rosmarine . And whatso else of vertue good or ill Grewe in this Gardin , fetcht from farre away , Of euerie one he takes , and tastes at will , And on their pleasures greedily doth pray . Then when he hath both plaid , and fed his fill , In the warme Sunne he doth himselfe embay , And there him rests in riotous suffisaunce Of all his gladfulnes , and kingly ioyaunce . What more felicitie can fall to creature , Than to enioy delight with libertie , And to be Lord of all the workes of Nature , To raine in th' aire from earth to highest skie , To feed on flowres , and weeds of glorious feature , To take what euer thing doth please the eie ? Who rests not pleased with such happines , Well worthie he to taste of wretchednes . But what on earth can long abide in state ? Or who can him assure of happie day ; Sith morning faire may bring fowle euening late , And least mishap the most blisse alter may ? For thousand perills lie in close awaite About vs daylie , to worke our decay ; That none , except a God , or God him guide , May them auoyde , or remedie prouide . And whatso heauens in their secret doome Ordained haue , how can fraile fleshly wight Forecast , but it must needs to issue come ? The sea , the aire , the fire , the day , the night , And th' armies of their creatures all and some Do serue to them , and with importune might Warre against vs the vassals of their will . Who then can saue , what they dispose to spill ? Not thou , O Clarion , though fairest thou Of all thy kinde , vnhappie happie Flie , Whose cruell fate is wouen euen now Of Ioues owne hand , to worke thy miserie : Ne may thee helpe the manie hartie vow , Which thy olde Sire with sacred pietie Hath powred forth for thee , and th' altars sprent : Nought may thee saue from heauens auengement . It fortuned ( as heauens had behight ) That in this gardin , where yong Clarion Was wont to solace him , a wicked wight The foe of faire things , th' author of confusion , The shame of Nature , the bondslaue of spight , Had lately built his hatefull mansion , And lurking closely , in a wayte now lay . How he might anie in his trap betray . But when he spide the ioyous Butterflie In this faire plot displacing too and fro , Fearles of foes and hidden ieopardie , Lord how he gan for to bestirre him tho , And to his wicked worke each part applie : His heart did earne against his hated foe , And bowels so with ranckling poyson swelde , That scarce the skin the strong contagion helde . The cause why he this Flie so maliced , Was ( as in stories it is written found ) For that his mother which him bore and bred , The most fine fingred workwoman on ground , Arachne , by his meanes was vanquished Of Pallas , and in her owne skill confound , When she with her for excellence contended , That wrought her shame , and sorrow neuer ended . For the Tritonian Goddesse hauing hard Her blazed fame , which all the world had fil'd , Came downe to proue the truth , and due reward For her prais-worthie workmanship to yeild But the presumptuous Damzel rashly dar'd The Goddesse selfe to chalenge to the field , And to compare with her in curious skill Of workes with loome , with needle , and with quill . Minerua did the chalenge not refuse , But deign'd with her the paragon to make : So to their worke they sit , and each doth chuse What storie she will for her tapet take . Arachne figur'd how Ioue did abuse Europa like a Bull , and on his backe Her through the sea did beare ; so liuely seene , That it true Sea , and true Bull ye would weene . She seem'd still backe vnto the land to looke , And her play-fellowes aide to call , and feare The dashing of the waues , that vp she tooke Her daintie feete , and garments gathered neare : But ( Lord ) how she in euerie member shooke , When as the land she saw no more appeare , But a wilde wildernes of waters deepe : Then gan she greatly to lament and weepe . Before the Bull she pictur'd winged Loue , With his yong brother Sport , light fluttering Vpon the waues , as each had been a Doue ; The one his bowe and shafts , the other Spring A burning Teade about his head did moue , As in their Syres new loue both triumphing : And manie Nymphes about them flocking round , And manie Tritons , which their hornes did sound . And round about , her worke she did empale With a faire border wrought of sundrie flowres , Enwouen with an Yuie winding trayle : A goodly worke , full fit for Kingly bowres , Such as Dame Pallas , such as Enuie pale , That al good things with venemous tooth deuowres , Could not accuse . Then gan the Goddesse bright Her selfe likewise vnto her worke to dight . She made the storie of the olde debate , Which she with Neptune did for Athens trie : Twelue Gods doo sit around in royall state , And Ioue in midst with awfull Maiestie , To iudge the strife betweene them stirred late : Each of the Gods by his like visnomie Eathe to be knowen ; but Ioue aboue them all , By his great lookes and power Imperiall . Before them stands the God of Seas in place , Clayming that sea-coast Citie as his right , And strikes the rockes with his three-forked mace ; Whenceforth issues a warlike steed in sight , The signe by which he chalengeth the place , That all the Gods , which saw his wondrous might Did surely deeme the victorie his due : But seldome seene , foreiudgement proueth true . Then to her selfe she giues her Aegide shield , And steelhed speare , and morion on her hedd , Such as she oft is seene in warlicke field : Then sets she forth , how with her weapon dredd She smote the ground , the which streight foorth did yield A fruitfull Olyue tree , with berries spredd , That all the Gods admir'd ; then all the storie She compast with a wreathe of Olyues hoarie . Emongst those leaues she made a Butterflie , With excellent deuice and wondrous slight , Fluttring among the Oliues wantonly , That seem'd to liue , so like it was in sight : The veluet nap which on his wings doth lie , The silken downe with which his backe is dight , His broad outstretched hornes , his hayrie thies , His glorious colours , and his glistering eies . Which when Arachne saw , as ouerlaid , And mastered with workmanship so rare , She stood astonied long , ne ought gainesaid , And with fast fixed eyes on her did stare , And by her silence , signe of one dismaid , The victorie did yeeld her as her share : Yet did she inly fret , and felly burne , And all her blood to poysonous rancor turne . That shortly from the shape of womanhed Such as she was , when Pallas she attempted . She grew to hideous shape of dryrihed , Pined with griefe of follie late repented : Eftsoones her white streight legs were altered To crooked crawling shankes , of marrowe empted , And her faire face to fowle and loathsome hewe , And her fine corpes to a bag of venim grewe . This cursed creature , mindfull of that olde Enfested grudge , the which his mother felt , So soone as Clarion he did beholde , His heart with vengefull malice inly swelt ; And weauing straight a net with manie a folde About the caue , in which he lurking dwelt , With fine small cords about it stretched wide , So finely sponne , that scarce they could be spide . Not anie damzell , which her vaunteth most In skilfull knitting of soft silken twyne ; Nor anie weauer , which his worke doth boast In dieper , in damaske , or in lyne ; Nor anie skil'd in workmanship embost ; Nor anie skil'd in loupes of fingring fine , Might in their diuers cunning euer dare , With this so curious networke to compare . Ne doo I thinke , that that same subtil gin , The which the Lemnian God framde craftilie , Mars sleeping with his wife to compasse in , That all the Gods with common mockerie Might laugh at them , and scorne their shamefull sin , Was like to this . This same he did applie , For to entrap the careles Clarion , That rang'd each where without suspition . Suspition of friend , nor feare of foe , That hazarded his health , had he at all , But walkt at will , and wandred too and fro , In the pride of his freedome principall : Litle wist he his fatall future woe , But was secure , the liker he to fall . He likest is to fall into mischaunce , That is regardles of his gouernaunce . Yet still Aragnoll ( so his foe was hight ) Lay lurking couertly him to surprise , And all his gins that him entangle might , Drest in good order as he could deuise . At length the foolish Flie without foresight , As he that did all daunger quite despise , Toward those parts came flying careleslie , Where hidden was his hatefull enemie . Who seeing him , with secrete ioy therefore Did tickle inwardly in euerie vaine , And his false hart fraught with all treasons store , Was fil'd with hope , his purpose to obtaine : Himselfe he close vpgathered more and more Into his den , that his deceiptfull traine By his there being might not be bewraid , Ne anie noyse , ne anie motion made . Like as a wily Foxe , that hauing spide , Where on a sunnie banke the Lambes doo play , Full closely creeping by the hinder side , Lyes in ambushment of his hoped pray , Ne stirreth limbe , till seeing readie tide , He rusheth forth , and snatcheth quite away One of the litle yonglings vnawares : So to his worke Aragnoll him prepares . Who now shall giue vnto my heauie eyes A well of teares , that all may ouerflow ? Or where shall I finde lamentable cryes , And mournfull tunes enough my griefe to show ? Helpe O thou Tragick Muse , me to deuise Notes sad enough , t' expresse this bitter throw : For loe , the drerie stownd is now arriued , That of all happines hath vs depriued . The luckles Clarion , whether cruell Fate , Or wicked Fortune faultles him misled , Or some vngracious blast out of the gate Of Aeoles raine perforce him droue on hed , Was ( O sad hap and howre vnfortunate ) With violent swift flight forth caried Into the cursed cobweb , which his foe Had framed for his finall ouerthroe . There the fond Flie entangled , strugled long , Himselfe to free thereout ; but all in vaine . For striuing more , the more in laces strong Himselfe he tide , and wrapt his winges twaine In lymie snares the subtill loupes among ; That in the ende he breathelesse did remaine , And all his yougthly forces idly spent , Him to the mercie of th' auenger lent . Which when the greisly tyrant did espie , Like a grimme Lyon rushing with fierce might Out of his den , he seized greedelie On the resistles pray , and with fell spight , Vnder the left wing stroke his weapon slie Into his heart , that his deepe groning spright In bloodie streames foorth fled into the aire , His bodie left the spectacle of care . FINIS .

Visions of the worlds vanitie . 1 ONe day , whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe , My spirit , shaking off her earthly prison , Began to enter into meditation deepe Of things exceeding reach of common reason ; Such as this age , in which all good is geason , And all that humble is and meane debaced , Hath brought forth in her last declining season , Griefe of good mindes , to see goodnesse disgraced . On which when as my thought was throghly placed , Vnto my eyes strange showes presented were , Picturing that , which I in minde embraced , That yet those sights empassion me full nere . Such as they were ( faire Ladie ) take in worth , That when time serues , may bring things better forth . 2 In Summers day , when Phoebus fairly shone , I saw a Bull as white as driuen snowe , With gilden hornes embowed like the Moone , In a fresh flowring meadow lying lowe : Vp to his eares the verdant grasse did growe , And the gay floures did offer to be eaten ; But he with fatnes so did ouerflowe , That he all wallowed in the weedes downe beaten , Ne car'd with them his daintie lips to sweeten : Till that a Brize , a scorned little creature , Through his faire hide his angrie sting did threaten , And vext so sore , that all his goodly feature , And all his plenteous pasture nought him pleased : So by the small the great is oft diseased . 3 Beside the fruitfull shore of muddie Nile , Vpon a sunnie banke outstretched lay In monstrous length , a mightie Crocodile , That cram'd with guiltles blood , and greedie pray Of wretched people trauailing that way , Thought all things lesse than his disdainfull pride . I saw a little Bird , cal'd Tedula , The least of thousands which on earth abide , That forst this hideous beast to open wide The greisly gates of his deuouring hell , And let him feede , as Nature doth prouide , Vpon his iawes , that with blacke venime swell . Why then should greatest things the least disdaine , Sith that so small so mightie can constraine ? 4 The kingly Bird , that beares Ioues thunder-clap , One day did scorne the simple Scarabee , Proud of his highest seruice , and good hap , That made all other Foules his thralls to bee : The silly Flie , that no redresse did see , Spide where the Eagle built his towring nest , And kindling fire within the hollow tree , Burnt vp his yong ones , and himselfe distrest ; Ne suffred him in anie place to rest , But droue in Ioues owne lap his egs to lay ; Where gathering also filth him to infest , Forst with the filth his egs to fling away : For which when as the Foule was wroth , said Ioue , Lo how the least the greatest may reproue . 5 Toward the sea turning my troubled eye , I saw the fish ( if fish I may it cleepe ) That makes the sea before his face to flye , And with his flaggie finnes doth seeme to sweepe The fomie waues out of the dreadfull deep , The huge Leuiathan , dame Natures wonder , Making his sport , that manie makes to weep : A sword-fish small him from the rest did sunder , That in his throat him pricking softly vnder , His wide Abysse him forced forth to spewe , That all the sea did roare like heauens thunder , And all the waues were stain'd with filthie hewe . Hereby I learned haue , not to despise , What euer thing seemes small in common eyes . 6 An hideous Dragon , dreadfull to behold , Whose backe was arm'd against the dint of speare , With shields of brasse , that shone like burnisht golde , And forkhed sting , that death in it did beare , Stroue with a Spider his vnequall peare : And bad defiance to his enemie . The subtill vermin creeping closely neare , Did in his drinke shed poyson priuilie ; Which through his entrailes spredding diuersly , Made him to swell , that nigh his bowells brust , And him enforst to yeeld the victorie , That did so much in his owne greatnesse trust . O how great vainnesse is it then to scorne The weake , that hath the strong so oft forlorne . 7 High on a hill a goodly Cedar grewe , Of wondrous length , and streight proportion , That farre abroad her daintie odours threwe ; Mongst all the daughters of proud Libanon , Her match in beautie was not anie one . Shortly within her inmost pith there bred A litle wicked worme , perceiu'd of none , That on her sap and vitall moysture fed : Thenceforth her garland so much honoured Began to die , ( O great ruth for the same ) And her faire lockes fell from her loftie head , That shortly balde , and bared she became . I , which this sight beheld , was much dismayed , To see so goodly thing so soone decayed . 8 Soone after this I saw an Elephant , Adorn'd with bells and bosses gorgeouslie , That on his backe did beare ( as batteilant ) A gilden towre , which shone exceedinglie ; That he himselfe through foolish vanitie , Both for his rich attire , and goodly forme , Was puffed vp with passing surquedrie , And shortly gan all other beasts to scorne . Till that a little Ant , a silly worme , Into his nosthrils creeping , so him pained , That casting downe his towres , he did deforme Both borrowed pride , and natures beautie stained . Let therefore nought that great is , therein glorie , Sith so small thing his happines may varie . 9 Looking far foorth into the Ocean wide , A goodly ship with banners brauely dight , And flag in her top-gallant I espide , Through the maine sea making her merry flight : Faire blew the winde into her bosome right ; And th' heauens looked louely all the while , That she did seeme to daunce , as in delight , And at her owne felicitie did smile . All sodainely there cloue vnto her keele A little fish , that men call Remora , Which stopt her course , and held her by the heele , That winde nor tide could moue her thence away . Straunge thing me seemeth , that so small a thing Should able be so great an one to wring . 10 A mighty Lyon , Lord of all the wood , Hauing his hunger throughly satisfide , With pray of beasts , and spoyle of liuing blood , Safe in his dreadles den him thought to hide : His sternesse was his prayse , his strength his pride , And all his glory in his cruell clawes . I saw a wasp , that fiercely him defide , And bad him battaile euen to his iawes ; Sore he him stong , that it the blood forth drawes , And his proude heart is fild with fretting ire : In vaine he threats his teeth , his tayle , his pawes , And from his bloodie eyes doth sparkle fire ; That dead himselfe he wisheth for despight . So weakest may anoy the most of might . 11 What time the Romaine Empire bore the raine Of all the world , and florisht most in might , The nations gan their soueraigntie disdaine , And cast to quitt them from their bondage quight : So when all shrouded were in silent night , The Galles were , by corrupting of a mayde , Possest nigh of the Capitol through slight , Had not a Goose the treachery bewrayde . If then a Goose great Rome from ruine stayde , And Ioue himselfe , the patron of the place , Preserud from being to his foes betrayde , Why do vaine men mean things so much deface , And in their might repose their most assurance , Sith nought on earth can chalenge long endurance ? 12 When these sad sights were ouerpast and gone , My spright was greatly moued in her rest , With inward ruth and deare affection , To see so great things by so small distrest : Thenceforth I gan in my engrieued brest To scorne all difference of great and small , Sith that the greatest often are opprest , And vnawares doe into daunger fall . And ye , that read these ruines tragicall Learne by their losse to loue the low degree , And if that fortune chaunce you vp to call To honours seat , forget not what you be : For he that of himselfe is most secure , Shall finde his state most fickle and vnsure . FINIS .

The Visions of Bellay . 1 IT was the time , when rest soft sliding downe From heauens hight into mens heauy eyes , In the forgetfulnes of sleepe doth drowne The carefull thoughts of mortall miseries : Then did a Ghost before mine eyes appeare , On that great riuers banck , that runnes by Rome , Which calling me by name , bad me to reare My lookes to heauen whence all good gifts do come , And crying lowd , loe now beholde ( quoth hee ) What vnder this great temple placed is : Lo all is nought but flying vanitee . So I that know this worlds inconstancies . Sith onely God surmounts all times decay , In God alone my confidence do stay . 2 On high hills top I saw a stately frame , An hundred cubits high by iust assize , With hundreth pillours fronting faire the same , All wrought with Diamond after Dorick wize : Nor brick , nor marble was the wall in view , But shining Christall , which from top to base Out of her womb a thousand rayons threw , One hundred steps of Afrike golds enchase : Golde was the parget , and the seeling bright Did shine all scaly with great plates of golde ; The floore of Iasp and Emeraude was dight . O worlds vainesse . Whiles thus I did behold , An earthquake shooke the hill from lowest seat , And ouerthrew this frame with ruine great . 3 Then did a sharped spyre of Diamond bright , Ten feete each way in square , appeare to mee , Iustly proportion'd vp vnto his hight , So far as Archer might his leuel see : The top thereof a pot did seeme to beare , Made of the mettall , which we most do honour , And in this golden vessell couched weare The ashes of a mightie Emperour : Vpon foure corners of the base were pight , To beare the frame , foure great Lyons of gold ; A worthy tombe for such a worthy wight . Alas this world doth nought but grieuance hold . I saw a tempest from the heauen descend , Which this braue monument with flash did rend . 4 I saw raysde vp on yuorie pillowes tall , Whose bases were of richest mettalls warke , The chapters Alablaster , the fryses christall , The double front of a triumphall Arke : On each side purtraid was a Victorie , Clad like a Nimph , that wings of siluer weares , And in triumphant chayre was set on hie , The auncient glory of the Romaine Peares . No worke it seem'd of earthly craftsmans wit , But rather wrought by his owne industry , That thunder-dartes for Ioue his syre doth fit . Let me no more see faire thing vnder sky , Sith that mine eyes haue seene so faire a sight With sodain fall to dust consumed quight . 5 Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene , Vpon seauen hills to spread his gladsome gleame , And conquerours bedecked with his greene , Along the bancks of the Ausonian streame : There many an auncient Trophee was addrest . And many a spoyle , and many a goodly show , Which that braue races greatnes did attest , That whilome from the Troyan blood did flow . Rauisht I was so rare a thing to vew , When lo a barbarous troupe of clownish fone The honour of these noble boughs down threw , Vnder the wedge I heard the tronck to grone ; And since I saw the roote in great disdaine A twinne of forked trees send forth againe . 6 I saw a Wolfe vnder a rockie caue Noursing two whelpes ; I saw her litle ones In wanton dalliance the teate to craue , While she her neck wreath'd from them for the nones : I saw her raunge abroad to seeke her food , And roming through the field with greedie rage T' embrew her teeth & clawes with luke warm blood Of the small heards , her thirst for to asswage . I saw a thousand huntsmen , which descended Downe from the mountaines bordring Lombardie , That with an hundred speares her flank wide rended . I saw her on the plaine outstretched lie , Throwing out thousand throbs in her owne soyle : Soone on a tree vphang'd I saw her spoyle . 7 I saw the Bird that can the Sun endure , With feeble wings assay to mount on hight . By more and more she gan her wings t' assure , Following th' ensample of her mothers sight : I saw her rise , and with a larger flight To pierce the cloudes , and with wide pinneons To measure the most haughtie mountaines hight , Vntill she raught the Gods owne mansions : There was she lost , when suddaine I behelde , Where tumbling through the ayre in firie fold ; All flaming downe she on the plaine was felde , And soone her bodie turn'd to ashes colde . I saw the foule that doth the light dispise , Out of her dust like to a worme arise . 8 I saw a riuer swift , whose fomy billowes Did wash the ground work of an old great walls I saw it couer'd all with griesly shadowes , That with black horror did the ayre appall : Thereout a strange beast with seuen heads arose , The townes and castles vnder her brest did coure , And seem'd both milder beasts and fiercer foes Alike with equall rauine to deuoure . Much was I mazde , to see this monsters kinde In hundred formes to change his fearefull hew , When as at length I saw the wrathfull winde , Which blows cold storms , burst out of Scithian mew That sperst these cloudes , and in so short as thought , This dreadfull shape was vanished to nought . 9 Then all astoined with this mighty ghoast , An hideous bodie big and strong I sawe , With side long beard , and locks down hanging loast , Sterne face , and front full of Saturnlike awe ; Who leaning on the belly of a pot . Pourd foorth a water , whose out gushing flood Ran bathing all the creakie shore aflot , Whereon the Troyan prince spilt Turnus blood ; And at his feete a bitch wolfe suck did yeeld To two young babes : his left the Palme tree stout , His right hand did the peacefull Oliue wield , And head with Lawrell garnisht was about . Sudden both Palme and Oliue fell away , And faire greene Lawrell branch did quite decay . 10 Hard by a riuers side a virgin faire , Folding her armes to heauen with thousand throbs , And outraging her cheekes and golden haire , To falling riuers sound thus tun'd her sobs . Where is ( quoth she ) this whilom honoured face ? Where the great glorie and the auncient praise , In which all worlds felicitie had place , When Gods and men my honour vp did raise ? Suffisd it not that ciuill warres me made The whole worlds spoile , but that this Hydra new , Of hundred Hercules to be assaide , With seuen heads , budding monstrous crimes anew , So many Neroes and Caligulaes Out of these crooked shores must dayly rayse . 11 Vpon an hill a bright flame I did see , Wauing aloft with triple point to skie , Which like incense of precious Cedar tree , With balmie odours fil'd th' ayre farre and nie . A Bird all white , well feathered on each wing , Hereout vp to the throne of Gods did flie , And all the way most pleasant notes did sing , Whilst in the smoake she vnto heauen did stie . Of this faire fire the scattered rayes forth threw On euerie side a thousand shining beames : When sudden dropping of a siluer dew ( O grieuous chance ) gan quench those precious flames ; That it which earst so pleasant sent did yeld , Of nothing now but noyous sulphure smeld . 12 I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle , As cleare as Christall gainst the Sunnie beames , The bottome yeallow , like the golden grayle That bright Pactolus washeth with his streames ; It seem'd that Art and Nature had assembled All pleasure there , for which mans hart could long ; And there a noyse alluring sleepe soft trembled , Of manie accords more sweete than Mermaids song : The seates and benches shone as yuorie , And hundred Nymphes sate side by side about ; When from nigh hills with hideous outcrie , A troupe of Satyres in the place did rout , Which with their villeine feete the streame did ray , Threw down the seats , & droue the Nymphs away . 13 Much richer then that vessell seem'd to bee , Which did to that sad Florentine appeare , Casting mine eyes farre off , I chaunst to see , Vpon the Latine Coast herselfe to reare : But suddenly arose a tempest great , Bearing close enuie to these riches rare , Which gan assaile this ship with dreadfull threat , This ship , to which none other might compare . And finally the storme impetuous Sunke vp these riches , second vnto none , Within the gulfe of greedie Nereus . I saw both ship and mariners each one , And all that treasure drowned in the maine : But I the ship saw after raisd' againe . 14 Long hauing deeply gron'd these visions sad , I saw a Citie like vnto that same , Which saw the messenger of tidings glad ; But that on sand was built the goodly frame : It seem'd her top the firmament did rayse , And no lesse rich than faire , right worthie sure ( If ought here worthie ) of immortall dayes , Or if ought vnder heauen might firme endure . Much wondred I to see so faire a wall : When from the Northerne coast a storme arose , Which breathing furie from his inward gall On all , which did against his course oppose , Into a clowde of dust sperst in the aire The weake foundations of this Citie faire . 15 At length , euen at the time , when Morpheus Most trulie doth vnto our eyes appeare , Wearie to see the heauens still wauering thus , I saw Typhaeus sister comming neare ; Whose head full brauely with a morion hidd , Did seeme to match the Gods in Maiestie . She by a riuers bancke that swift downe slidd , Ouer all the world did raise a Trophee hie ; An hundred vanquisht Kings vnder her lay , With armes bound at their backs in shamefull wize ; Whilst I thus mazed was with great affray , I saw the heauens in warre against her rize : Then downe she stricken fell with clap of thonder , That with great noyse I wakte in sudden wonder . FINIS .

The Visions of Petrarch formerly translated . 1 BEing one day at my window all alone , So manie strange things happened me to see , As much it grieueth me to thinke thereon . At my right hand a Hynde appear'd to mee , So faire as mote the greatest God delite ; Two eager dogs did her pursue in chace , Of which the one was blacke , the other white : With deadly force so in their cruell race They pincht the haunches of that gentle beast , That at the last , and in short time I spide , Vnder a Rocke where she alas opprest , Fell to the ground , and there vntimely dide . Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie , Oft makes me wayle so hard a destenie . 2 After at sea a tall ship did appeare , Made all of Heben and white Yuorie , The sailes of golde , of silke the tackle were , Milde was the winde , calme seem'd the sea to bee , The skie each where did show full bright and faire ; With rich treasures this gay ship fraighted was : But sudden storme did so turmoyle the aire , And tumbled vp the sea , that she ( alas ) Strake on a rock , that vnder water lay , And perished past all recouerie . O how great ruth and sorrowfull assay , Doth vex my spirite with perplexitie , Thus in a monent to see lost and drown'd , So great riches , as like cannot be found . 3 The heauenly branches did I see arise Out of the fresh and lustie Lawrell tree , Amidst the yong greene wood : of Paradise Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see : Such store of birds therein yshrowded were , Chaunting in shade their sundrie melodie , That with their sweetnes I was rauish't nere . While on this Lawrell fixed was mine eie , The skie gan euerie where to ouercast , And darkned was the welkin all about , When sudden flash of heauens fire out brast , And rent this royall tree quite by the roote , Which makes me much and euer to complaine : For no such shadow shal be had againe . 4 Within this wood , out of a rocke did rise A spring of water , mildly rumbling downe , Whereto approched not in anie wise The homely shepheard , nor the ruder clowne ; But manie Muses , and the Nymphes withall , That sweetly in accord did tune their voyce To the soft sounding of the waters fall , That my glad hart thereat did much reioyce . But while herein I tooke my chiefe delight , I saw ( alas ) the gaping earth deuoure The spring , the place , and all cleane out of sight . Which yet aggreeues my hart euen to this houre , And wounds my soule with rufull memorie , To see such pleasures gon so suddenly . 5 I saw a Phoenix in the wood alone , With purple wings , and crest of golden hewe ; Strange bird he was , whereby I thought anone , That of some heauenly wight I had the vewe ; Vntill he came vnto the broken tree , And to the spring , that late deuoured was . What say I more ? each thing at last we see Doth passe away : the Phoenix there alas Spying the tree destroid , the water dride , Himselfe smote with his beake , as in disdaine , And so foorth with in great despight he dide : That yet my heart burnes in exceeding paine , For ruth and pitie of so haples plight . O let mine eyes no more see such a sight . 6 At last so faire a Ladie did I spie , That thinking yet on her I burne and quake ; On hearbs and flowres she walked pensiuely , Milde , but yet loue she proudly did forsake : White seem'd her robes , yet wouen so they were , As snow and golde together had been wrought . Aboue the wast a darke clowde shrouded her , A stinging Serpent by the heele her caught ; Wherewith she languisht as the gathered floure , And well assur'd she mounted vp to ioy . Alas , on earth so nothing doth endure , But bitter griefe and sorrowfull annoy : Which make this life wretched and miserable , Tossed with stormes of fortune variable . When I beheld this tickle trustles state Of vaine worlds glorie , flitting too and fro , And mortall men tossed by troublous fate In restles seas of wretchednes and woe , I wish I might this wearie life forgoe , And shortly turne vnto my happie rest , Where my free spirite might not anie moe Be vext with sights , that doo her peace molest . And ye faire Ladie , in whose bounteous brest All heauenly grace and vertue shrined is , When ye these rythmes doo read , and vew the rest , Loath this base world , and thinke of heauens blis : And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures , Yet thinke , that death shall spoyle your goodly features . FINIS .