Alcilia Philoparthens louing folly. To which is added Pigmalions image. With the loue of Amos and Laura. And also epigrammes by Sir I.H. and others. Neuer before imprinted.

ALCILIA .

Philoparthens louing Folly .

WHEREVNTO IS ADDED Pigmalions Image .

WITH The Loue of AMOS and LAVRA .

And also EPIGRAMMES BY Sir I. H. and others .

Neuer before imprinted .

LONDON : Printed for Richard Hawkins , dwelling in Chancery Lane , neare Sarjeants-Inne . 1613.

A LETTER , written by a Gentleman , to the Author his friend .

FRiend Philoparthens , in perusing your Louing-folly , and your declining from it , I doe behold Reason conquering Passion . The infirmitie of louing argueth you are a man ; the firmenesse thereof discouereth a good wit , and the best nature ; and the falling from it , true vertue , Beautie was alwayes of force to mislead the wisest , and men of greatest perfection haue had no power to resist Loue . The best are accompanyed with Vices , to exercise their Vertues , whose glory shineth brightest in resisting motiues of pleasure , and in subduing affections . And though I cannot altogether excuse your Louing-folly ; yet I doe the lesse blame you , in that you loued such a one as was more to be commended for her vertue then beautie ; albeit euen for that too , shee was so well accomplished with the gifts of nature , as in mine owne conceit ( which , for good cause , I must submit as inferiour to yours ) there was nothing wanting , eyther in the one or the other , that might adde more to her worth , except it were a more due and better regard of your loue , which ●hee requited not according to your deserts , nor answerable to her selfe in her other parts of perfection : Yet herein it appeareth you haue made good vse of reason , that being heretofore lost in youthfull vanitie , haue now by timely discretion found your selfe . Let me intreate you to suffer these your passionate Sonnets to be published , which may peraduenture make others , possessed with the like humour of Louing , to follow your example in leauing , and moue other Alciliaes ( if there be any ) to imbrace deseruing loue while they may . Hereby also she shall know , and ( it may be ) inwardly repent the losse of your loue , and see how much her perfections are blemished by ingratitude , which will make your happinesse greater , by adding to your reputation , then your contentment could haue beene in inioying her loue : At the least wise the wiser sort , howsoeuer in censuring them , they may dislike of your errors ; yet they cannot but commend and allow of your reformation ; and all others that shall with indifferency reade them , may reape thereby some benefit or contentment : Thus much I haue written as a testimony of the good will I beare you , with whom I doe suffer or reioyce , according to the qualitie of good hap , or misfortune , and so I take my leaue , resting , as alwayes ,

Yours most assured PHILARETES .

Author ipse Philopartheos ad Libellum suum . PArue Liber Domini vanos dicture labores , Insomnes noctes , sollicitosque dies , Errores varios , sanguentis taedia vitae , Moerores certos , gaudia certa minus , Peruigi●es curas , suspiria , vota , querelas , Et quaecunque pati dura coegit amor . I precor intrepidus , duram comiterque salutans Haec me eius causa sustinuisse refer . Te grato excipiet vultu rubicundula , nomen Cum titulo inscriptum viderit esse suum . Forsitan & nostri miserebitur illa doloris , Dicet , & ah quantum deseruisse dolet : Seque nimis saeuam , crudelemabque ; ipsa vocabit , Cui non est fidei debita cura meae ; Quod siquidem eueniet , Domino solaminis illud , Et t●bi surremi muneris instar erit . Si quis ( vt est aequum ) f●tuos damnauerit ignes , Pigritiae fructus ingnijque leuis : Tu Dominum caecis tenchris errasse , sed ipsum Err●ris tandem pae 〈…〉 uisse sui , Me quoque re v●ra nec tot , nec tauta tulisse , Se● ficta ad placitum multa fuisse refer . Ab quanto satius ( nisi mens mihi vana ) fuisset Illa meo penitùs delituisse sinu : Quam leuia in lucem prodire , aut luce carentis Insanam Domini prodere stultitiam . Nil Amor est aliud , quàm mentis morbus , & error . Nil sapienter agit , nil bene , quisquis amat . Sed non cuique datur sapere , aut melioribus vti , Forte erit alterius , qui meus error erat . Cautior incedat , quinanquam labitur , atqui Iam proprio cuadam cautior ipse malo . Si cui dilicto granior mea poena videtur , Illius in laudes officiosus eris . Te si quis simili qui carpituri i● ne videbit , Ille suam sortem flebit , & ille meam . ALCILIAE obsequium supplex praestare memento , Non minima officij pars erit illa tui . Te fortasse sua secura recondet in a●ca , Et Solis posthaec luminis orbus eris . Nil referet , fateor me non prudenter amasse ; Vltima deceptae sors erit illa spei . Bis proprio Phoebus cursu lustrouer at orbem , Conscius erroris , stultitiaeque meae , A quo primus Amor coepit penetrare medullas , Et falsa accensos nutrijt arte focos . Desino iam nugas amplecti , seria posthaec ( Vt Ratio monet ) ac vtiliora sequar .

AMORIS PRAELVDIVM : VEL , Epistola ad Amicam . TO thee Alcilia , solace of my youth , These rude and scattered rimes I haue addressed : The certaine witnesse of my loue and truth , That truely cannot be in words expressed ; Which if I shall perceiue thou tak'st in gree , I will from henceforth write of none but thee . Here may you find the wounds your selfe haue made The many sorrowes I haue long sustain'd : Here may you see that Loue must be obey'd ; How much I hop'd , how little I haue gain'd : That as for you the paines haue beene endur'd , Euen so by you they may at length be cur'd . I will not call for aide to any Muse , It is for learned Poets so to doe : Affection must my want of Art excuse , My workes must haue their patronage from you , Whose sweet assistance if obtaine I might , I should be able both to speake and wright . Meane while vouchsafe to reade this , as assignde To no mans censure , but to yours alone : Pardon the faults , that you therein shall finde , And thinke the Writers heart was not his owne . Experience of examples daily proue That no man can be well aduis'd , and loue . And though the worke it selfe deserue it not , Such is your worth with my great wants compar'd : Yet may my Loue vnfained , without spot Challenge so much , ( if more cannot be spar'd , ) Then ( louely Virgin ) take this in good part , The rest vnseene is seal'd vp in the hart . Iudge not by this the depth of my Affection , Which farre exceedes the measure of my skill : But rather note herein your owne perfection , So shall appeare my want of Art , not Will . Whereof , this now as part , in lieu of greater I offer as an insufficient debter .

Sic incipit stultorum Tragicomedia . IT was my chance ( vnhappy chance to mee ) As all alone I wandred on my way : Voyd of distrust , from doubt of dangers free , To passe a groue , where LOVE in Ambush lay . Who ayming at mee with his feather'd Dart , Conuey'd it by mine Eye vnto my Hart. Where ( retchlesse Boy ) he let the Arrow sticke , Where I , as one amazed , senselesse stood : The hurt was great , yet seemed but a pricke , The wound was deepe , and yet appear'd no bloud , " But inwardly it bleedes , Proofe teacheth this , " When wounds doe so the danger greater is . Pausing a while , and grieued with my wound , I look'd about , expecting some reliefe : Small hope of helpe , no ease of paine I found , Like all at once to perish in my griefe : When hastily I plucked forth the Dart. But left the head fast fixed in my Hart. Fast fixed in my Hart I left the head ; From whence I doubt it will not be remoued : Ah what vnluckie chance that way me lead ? O Loue , thy force thou might'st else-where haue proued , And shew'd thy power , where thou art not obey'd ; " The Conquest 's small , where no resist is made . But nought ( alas ) auayles it to complaine , I rest resolu'd with Patience to endure : The Fire being once disperst through euery veyne , It is too late to hope for present cure . Now Philoparthen must new follyes proue , And learne a little , what it is to loue .

These Sonnets following , were written by the Author , ( who giueth himselfe this fained name of Philoparthen , as his accidentall attribute ) at diuers times , and vpon diuers occasions , and therefore in the forme and matter they differ , and sometimes are quite contrary one to another , considering the nature and qualitie of LOVE , which is a Passion full of varietie , and contrarietie in it selfe . I. VNhappy Eyes that first my Heart betraid , Had you not seene , my griefe had not bin such : And yet how may I iustly you vpbraid , Since what I saw delighted me so much ? But hence , alas , proceedeth all my smart , Vnhappie Eyes that first betray'd my Hart. II. To seeke aduentures , as Fate hath assign'd , My slender Barke now flotes vpon the Maine : Each troubled thought an Oare , each sigh a winde , Whose often puffes haue rent my Sayles in twaine . LOVE steeres the Boat , which , for that sight he lacks , Is still in danger of tenne thousand wracks . III. What sodaine chance hath chang'd my wonted Which makes me other then I seeme to be ? ( chear , My dayes of ioy , that once were bright and cleare , Are turn'd to night , my mirth to miserie . Ah , well I weene that somewhat is amisse , But sooth to say , I know not what it is . IIII. What , am I dead ? Then could I feele no smart : But still in me the sense of griefe reuiueth . Am I aliue ? Ah no , I haue no heart ; For she that hath it , me of life depriueth . Oh that she would restore my heart againe , Or giue mee hers , to counteruayle my paine . V. If it be LOVE , to waste long houres in griefe ; If it be LOVE , to wish , and not obtaine ; If it be LOVE , to pine without reliefe ; If it be LOVE , to hope , and neuer gaine : Then may you thinke that he hath truely lou'd , Who for your sake , all this and more haue prou'd . VI. If ought that in mine Eyes haue done amisse , Let them receiue deserued punishment : For so the perfect rule of Iustice is , Each for his owne deedes should be prais'd or shent . Then doubtlesse it is both 'gainst Law and sence My Heart should suffer for mine Eyes offence . VII . I am not sicke , and yet I am not sound ; I eate and sleepe , and yet me thinkes I thriue not : I sport and laugh , and yet my griefes abound ; I am not dead , and yet me thinkes I liue not . What vncouth cause hath these strange passions bred , To make at once , sicke , sound , aliue , and dead ? VIII . Some thing I want , but what I cannot say ; O now I know , it is my selfe I want : My Loue with her hath tane my Heart away . Yea , Heart and all ; and left me very scant . Such power hath LOVE , & nought but LOVE alone , To make diuided Creatures liue in one . IX . Philo. Come gentle Death , & strike me with thy dart Life is but loathsome to a man opprest . Death . How can I kill thee when thou hast no heart ? That which thou hadst is in anothers breast . Philo. Then must I liue , and languish still in paine ? Death . Yea , till thy Loue restore thy heart againe . X. Were Loue a fire , my teares might quench it lightly ; Or were it water , my hot heart might dry it ; If Ayre , then might it passe away more slightly , Or were it Earth , the world would soone descry it . If Fire , nor Water , Ayre nor Earth it be , What then is it that thus tormenteth me ? XI . To paint her outward shape and gifts of minde It doth exceed my wit and cunning farre : She hath no fault , but that she is vnkinde . All other parts in her so compleate are That who to view them thoughly would deuise , Must haue his body nothing else but Eyes . XII . Faire is my Loue , whose parts are so well framed By Natures speciall order and direction : That shee her selfe is more then halfe ashamed , In hauing made a worke of such perfection . And well may Nature blush at such a feature , Seeing her selfe excelled in her creature . XIII . Her bodie is straight , slender , and vpright ; Her visage comely , and her lookes demure , Mixt with a chearfull grace that yeelds delight ; Her eyes like starres , bright shining , cleare , and pure , Which I describing , Loue bids stay my pen , And sayes it 's not a worke for mortall men . XIIII : The auncient Poets write of Graces three , Which meeting altogether in one Creature , In all points perfect make the same to bee , For inward vertues , and for outward feature . But smile Alcilia , and the world shall see , That in thine eyes an hundred graces bee . XV. As Loue had drawne his Bow ready to shoote , Ayming at me with resolute intent : Straight Bow and Shaft he cast downe at his foote , And said , why needlesse should one Shaft be spent ? I le spare it then , and now it shall suffice In stead of Shafts to vse Alciliaes eyes . XVI . Blush not my Loue , for feare least Phoebus spie , Which if he doe , then doubtlesse he will say Thou seek'st to dim his clearnesse with thine eye , That clearnesse which from East brings gladsome day . But most of all , least Ioue should see I dread , And take thee vp to heauen like Ganymede . XVII . Philo. What is the cause Alcilia is displeased ? Lo. Because she wants that which shold most content her Phil. O did I know it , soone should she be eased . Loue . Perhaps thou dost , and that doth most torment her . Phil. Yet let her aske what she desires to haue . Loue . Gesse by thy selfe ; for maidens must not craue . XVIII . My Loue by chance her tender finger pricked , As in the darke I striued for a kisse : Whose bloud I seeing , offerd to haue licked , But halfe in anger she refused this . O that she knew the difference of the smart , Twixt her prick'd finger and my wounded hart . XIX . Philo. I pray the tell , what makes my hart to tremble When on a sodaine I Alcilia spye ? Loue . Because thy heart cannot thy ioy dissemble , Thy life and death are both lodg'd in her eye . Phil. Dost thou not her with self-same passion strike ? Loue . O no , her heart and thine are not alike . XX. Such are thy parts of body and of minde , That if I should not loue thee as I doe ; I should too much degenerate from kinde , And thinke the world would blame my weaknes to . For he , whom such perfections cannot moue , Is eyther senslesse , or not borne to loue . XXI . Alcilia's eyes haue set my heart on fire , The pleasing obiect that my paine doth feede : Yet still to see those eyes I doe desire , As if my helpe should from my hurt proceede . Happy were I , might there in her be found , A will to heale , as there was power to wound . XXII . Vnwise was hee that painted Loue a Boy , Who for his strength a Gyant should haue beene : It 's strange a childe should worke so great annoy : Yet howsoeuer strange , too truely seene . " But what is he that dares at Loue repine " Whose workes are wonders , and himselfe diuine ? XXIII . My faire Alcilia , gladly would I know it , If euer louing passion pierc'd thy hart : Oh no ; for then thy kindnesse soone would shew it , And of my paines thy selfe would beare some part . Full little knoweth hee that hath not proued , What hell it is to loue , and not be loued . XXIIII . Loue , art thou blinde ? nay , thou canst see too well ; And they are blinde that so report of thee : That thou doest see , my selfe by proofe can tell , A haplesse proofe thereof is made by mee : For sure I am , had'st thou not had thy sight , Thou neuer could'st haue hit my heart so right . XXV . Long haue I languish'd , and indur'd much smart , Since haplesse I the cruell faire did loue , And lodg'd her in the center of my heart , Who there abiding , reason should her moue , Though of my paines she no compassion take , Yet to respect me , for her owne sweet sake . XXVI . In midst of Winter season , as the Snow , Whose milk-white mantle ouer-spreds the ground : In part the colour of my loue is so , Yet their effects I haue contrary found . For when the unneappeares , Snow melts anone , But I melt alwayes when my Sunne is gone . XXVII . The sweet content at first I seem'd to proue , While yet Desire vnfledg'd could scarcely flye : Did make me thinke there was no life to Loue , Till all too late Time taught the contrarie . For , like a Flye , I sported with the flame , Till , like a Foole , I perish'd in the same . XXVIII . After darke night , the chearfull day appeareth ; After an ebbe , the riuer flowes againe ; After a storme , the cloudy heauen cleareth : All labours haue their end , or ease of paine ; Each creature hath reliefe and rest , saue I , Who onely dying liue , and liuing dye . XXIX . Sometimes I seeke for company to sport , Whereby I might my pensiue thoughts beguile : Sometimes againe I hide me from resort , And muse alone ; but yet alas the while , In changing place I cannot change my minde , For where so e'er I flye , my selfe I finde . XXX . Faine would I speak , but straight my hart doth tremble And checkes my tongue that should my griefes reueale : And so I striue my passion to dissemble , Which all the Art I haue cannot conceale : Thus standing mute , my hart with longing sterueth It grieues a man to aske what he deserueth . XXXI . Since you desire the cause of me to know , For which these diuers passions I haue proued : Looke in your glasse , which will not faile to show The shadowed portrait of my best beloued . If that suffice not , looke into my hart , Where it 's ingrauen in a new-found Art . XXXII . The painefull Plow-man hath his hearts delight , Who through his daily toyle his body tyreth : Yet merrily comes whistling home at night , And sweetly takes the ease his paine requireth . But neyther dayes nor nights can yeeld me rest , Borne to be wretched , and to liue opprest . XXIII . O well were it , if Nature would deuise , That men with men together might engender : As Grafts from Trees , one from another rise , Then nought of due to women should we render , But vaine conceit , that Nature should doe this , Since well wee know , her selfe a woman is . XXIIII . Vpon the Altar where Loues fire burned ; My sighs and teares for sacrifice I offer'd : When Loue in rage from me his countenance turned , And did reiect , what I so humbly proffer'd . If hee my heart expect , alas it 's gone , How can a man giue that is not his owne ? XXXV . Alcilia said , she did not know my minde , Because my words did not declare my loue : Thus where I merit most , least helpe I finde , And her vnkindnesse all too late I proue . Grant Loue , that shee of whom thou art neglected , May one day loue , and little be respected . XXXVI . The Cynicke being ask'd when he would loue , Diogenes . Made answere , when hee nothing had to doe : For Loue was sloath ; but he did neuer proue By his experience what belong'd thereto . For had he tasted but as much as I , He would haue soone reform'd his heresie . XXXVII . O iudge me not , sweet Loue , by outward show , Though sometimes strange I seeme , and to neglect thee : Yet didst thou but my inward passions know , Thou shouldst perceiue how highly I respect thee . " When lookes are fixed , the hart oft times doth tremble , Little loues he that cannot much dissemble . XXXVIII . Parting from thee , euen from my selfe I part , Thou art the starre by which my life is guided : I haue the body , but thou hast the hart ; The better part is from it selfe diuided . Thus doe I liue , and this doe I sustaine , Till gracious fortune make vs meet againe . XXXIX . Open the sluces of my feeble eyes , And let my teares haue passage from their fountain : Fil all the earth with plaints , the aire with cries , Which may pierce rocks , & reach the highest mountain That so Loues wrath by these extreames appeased , My griefes may cease , and my poore heart be eased . XL. " After long sicknes , health brings more delight ; " Seas seem more calm , by storms once ouerblowne ; " The day's more chearfull by the passed night ; " Each thing is by his contrary best knowne ; " Continuall ease is paine ; Change somtimes meeter ; " Discords in Musicke , make the Musicke sweeter . XLI . Feare to offend , forbids my tongue to speake , And signes and sighes must tell my inward woe : But ( aye the while ) my heart with griefe doth break , And she by signes my sorrowes will not know , The stillest streames we see in deepest foords ; And loue is greatest when it wanteth words . XLII . " No paine so great , but may be eas'd by Art , " Though much we suffer , yet despair we should not " In midst of griefes Hope alwayes hath some part , " And Time may heale , what Art & Reason could not . Oh what is then this passion I indure , Which neither Reason , Art , nor Time can cure ? XLIII . " Pale Iealousie , fiend of eternall night , " Mishapen creature , borne before thy time , " The Impe of horror , foe to sweet delight , " Making each error seeme a haynous crime : " Ah too great pittie ( were there remedie , ) " That euer Loue should keepe thee companie . XLIIII . The dayes are now come to their shortest date , And must in time by course increase againe : But onely I continue at one state , Voide of all hope of helpe , or ease of paine . For dayes of ioy must still be short with me , And nights of sorrow must prolonged be . XLV . Sleepe now my Muse , and henceforth take thy rest , Which all too long thy selfe in vaine hast wasted : Let it suffice I still must liue opprest , And of my paine the fruit must ne'er be tasted . " Then sleepe my Muse : Fate cannot be withstood , " It's better sleepe then wake and doe no good . XLVI . Why shold I loue , since she doth proue vngrateful ? Since for reward I reape nought but disdaine : Loue thus to be requited it is hatefull , And Reason would I should not loue in vaine . Yet all in vaine , when all is out of season , For Loue hath no societie with Reason . XLVII . Harts-ease and I haue beene at ods too long , I follow fast , but still he Hyes from mee : I sue for grace , and yet sustaine the wrong , So gladly would I reconciled bee . Loue make vs one : so shalt thou worke a wonder , Vniting them , that were so farre asunder . XLVIII . Vncouth , vnkist , our auncient * * Chaucer Poet said , And he that hides his wants , when hee hath neede : May after haue his want of wit bewraid , And faile of his desire , when others speede . Then boldly speake : the worst is at first entring ; " Much good successe men misse for lack of ventring . XLIX . Declare thy griefes wherewith thou art opprest , And let the world be witnesse of thy woes : Let not thy thoughts lye buryed in thy brest , But let thy tongue thy discontents disclose . " For who conceales his paine when he is grieued , " May well be pittied , but no way relieued . L. Wretched is hee , that louing sets his hart On her , whose loue from pure affection swerued : Who doth permit each one to haue a part Of that which none but he alone deserueth . Giue all or none : For once of this be sure , Lordship and Loue no partners may endure . LI. Who spends the weary day in pensiue thought , And night in dreames of horror , and affright : Whose welth is want , whose hope is come to nought ; Himselfe the marke for Loue and Fortunes spight : Let him appeare , if any such there bee , His case and mine most fitly will agree . LII . Faire tree , but fruitlesse , sometimes full of sap , Which now yeelds nought at all that may delight me : Some cruell frost , or some vntimely hap Hath made thee barren , onely to despite me . Such Trees in vaine with hope doe feede desire , And serue for fuell to increase Loues fire . LIII . In company , while sad and mute I sit , My thoughts else-where , then there I seeme to be Possess'd with some deepe Melancholy fit , One of my friends obserues the same in me , And sayes in iest , ( which I in earnest proue ) Hee lookes like one , that had lost his first Loue . LIIII . Twixt Hope and Feare in doubtfull ballance peazed , My Fate , my Fortune , and my Loue depends : Sometime my Hope is rais'd , when Loue is pleased . Which feare weighs down , when ought his wil offends The heauens are somtimes cleer , and somtimes lowre " And he that loues , must tast both sweet and sowre . LV. Retyre my wandring thoughts vnto your rest , Doe not henceforth consume your selues in vaine : No mortall man in all poynts can be blest , What now is mine , may be anothers paine . The watry clouds are cleere , when stormes are past , And things in their extreames long cannot last . LVI . The fire of Loue is first bred in the eye , And thence conuayes his heate vnto the hart : Where it lies hid , till Time his force descry : The tongue thereto addes fuell for his part . The touch of lips , which doth succeed the same , Kindles the rest , and so it proues a flame . LVII . The tender sprigs that sprowted in the field , And promis'd hope of fruit to him that planted : In stead of fruit doth nought but blossomes yeeld , Though care and paine to prune it neuer wanted , Euen so my hopes doe nought but blossomes proue , And yeeld no fruits to recompence my loue . LVIII . Though little signe of loue in show appeare , Yet thinke true loue of colours hath no neede : It 's not the glorious garments which men weare That make them others then they are indeede . " In meanest show the most affection dwels , And richest pearles are found in simplest shels . LIX . Let not thy tongue thy inward thoughts disclose , Or tell the sorrowes that thy heart endures : Let no mans eare be witnesse of thy woes , Since pittie neyther helpe nor ease procures . And onely hee is truely said to mone , Whose griefes none knoweth but himselfe alone . LX. A thousand times I curse these idle rimes , Which doe their makers follies vaine set forth : Yet blesse I them againe as many times , For that in them I blaze Alcilia's worth . Meane while I fare as doth the Torch by night , Which wastes it selfe in giuing others light . LXI . Enough of this : for all is nought regarded , And she not once with my complaints is moued : Dye haplesse Loue , since thou art not rewarded ; Yet ere thou dye , to witnesse that I loued , Report my truth , and tell the faire vnkinde , That she hath lost , what none but she shall finde . LXII . Louers lament you that haue truely loued ; For Philoparthen now hath lost his loue : The greatest losse that euer Louer proued ; O let his hard hap some compassion moue . Who had not rued the losse of her so much , But that he knowes the world yeelds no more such . LXIII . Vpon the Ocean of conceited error , My weary spirit many stormes haue past , Which now in harbour , free from wonted terror , Ioy the possession of their rest at last : And henceforth safely they may lye at road ; And neuer roue for had-I-wist abroad .

Loues Accusation at the Iudgement-seate of Reason , wherein the Authors whole successe in his loue is couertly described . IN Reasons Court , my selfe being Plaintiffe there , Loue was by processe summon'd to appeare . That so the wrong which he had done to mee Might be made knowne ; and all the world might see , And seeing , rue , what to my cost I proued , While faithfull , but vnfortunate I loued . After I had obtained audience , I thus began to giue in euidence .

The Authors Euidence against Loue . MOst sacred Queene , and Soueraigne of mans heart , Which of the minde doest rule the better part : First bred in Heauen , and from thence hither sent To guide mens actions by thy regiment ; Vouchsafe a while to heare the sad complaint Of him that Loue hath long kept in restraint : And as to you it properly belongs , Grant Iustice of my vndeserued wrongs . I 〈◊〉 two yeeres ( as I remember well ) Since first this wretch , sent from the neather hell , To plague the world with new-found cruelties , Vnder the shadow of two Christall eyes , Betraid my sense ; and as I slumbring lay , Felloniously conuay'd my heart away , Which most vniustly he detain'd from me , And exercis'd thereon strange tyrannie . Sometime his manner was to sport and game ; With Bry'rs and Thornes to rase and pricke the same ; Sometime with Nettles of desire to sting it ; Sometime with Pinsons of despaire to wring it : Sometime againe , hee would annoynt the sore , And heale the place that hee had hurt before ; But hurtfull helps , and ministred in vaine , Which serued onely to renue my paine : For after that more wounds hee added still , Which pierced deepe , but had no power to kill . Vnhappy med'cine , which in stead of cure , Giues strength to make the patient more indure ! But that which was most strange of all the rest , My selfe b●ing thus twixt life and death distrest , Oft times when as my paine exceeded measure , Hee would perswade mee that the same was pleasure . My solemne sadnesse , but contentment meete ; My trauell , rest ; and all my sower , sweet ; My wounds , but gentle strokes : whereat he smild , And by these sleights my carelesse youth beguil'd . Thus did I fare , as one that liuing dy'd ; ( For greater paines I thinke hath no man try'd , ) Disquiet thoughts , like Furyes , in my brest Nourish'd the poyson that my spirits possest . Now griefe , then ioy , now warre , then peace vnstable : Nought sure I had , but to be miserable . I cannot vtter all , ( I must confesse , ) Men may conceiue more then they can expresse . But to be short , ( which cannot be excus'd , ) With vaine illusions Loue my hope abus'd , Perswading me I stood vpon firme ground , When vnawares my selfe on sands I found . This is the poynt which most I doe inforce , That Loue without all pitty or remorse Did suffer me to languish still in griefe , Void of contentment , succour , or reliefe : And when I look'd my paynes should be rewarded , I did perceiue that they were nought regarded : For why ( alas ) these haplesse eyes did see , Alcilia lou'd another more then mee : So in the end , when I expected most ; My Hope , my Loue , and Fortune thus were crost . Proceeding further , Reason bad me stay ; For the defendant had something to say . Then to the Iudge , for Iustice loud I cride , And so I paused , and Loue thus replide .

Loues Reply to the Author . SInce Reason ought to lend indifferent eares Vnto both parts , and iudge as truth appeares : Most gracious Lady , giue me leaue to speake , And answere his complaint , that seekes to wreake His spight and malice on me without cause , In charging me to haue transgress'd thy Lawes . Of all his Follies he imputes the blame To me poore Loue , that nought deserues the same : Himselfe it is that hath abused me , As by mine answere shall well proued be . Fond youth , thou knowst what I for thee effected , ( Though now I finde it little be respected ) I purg'd thy wit which was before but grosse , The mettall pure I seuer'd from the drosse : And did inspire thee with my sweetest fire . That kindled in thee courage and desire . Not like vnto those seruile Passions Which cumber mens imaginations With auarice , ambition , or vaine-glory , Desire of things fleeting and transitorie . No base conceit , but such as Powers aboue Haue knowne and felt , I meane th' instinct of Loue : Which making men all earthly things despise , Transports them to a heauenly Paradise . Where thou complain'st of sorrowes in thy heart , Who liues on earth but therein hath his part ? Are these thy fruits ? Are these the best rewards For all the pleasing glances , slye regards , The sweet stolne kisses , amorous conceits , So many smiles , so many faire intreats , Such kindnesse as Alcilia did bestow All for my sake , as well thy selfe doest know ? That Loue should thus be vsed it is hatefull , But all is lost that 's done for one vngratefull . Where he alledgeth that hee was abus'd , In that he truely louing was refus'd : That 's most vntrue , and plainely may be tride : Who neuer ask'd , could neuer be denide . But he affected rather single life , Then yoke in Marriage , matching with a wife . And most men now make loue to none but heyres : Poore loue ( God wot ) that pouertie impaires : Worldly respects Loue little doth regard ; Who loues , hath onely loue for his reward . He meriteth a Louers name indeede That casts no doubts , which vaine suspicion breede , But desperately at hazard threwes the Dice , Neglecting due regard of friends aduice ; That wrestles with his Fortune and his Fate , Which had ordain'd to better his estate ; That hath no care of wealth , no feare of Iacke , But venters forward , though he see his wracke ; That with Hopes wings , like Icarus , doth flye , Though for his rashnesse he like fortune trye ; That to his fame the world of him may tell , How , while hee soar'd aloft , adowne he fell . And so true Loue awarded him this doome , In scaling heauen , to haue the Sea his Tombe : That making shipwracke of his dearest fame , Betrayes himselfe to pouertie and shame : That hath no sense of sorrow , or repent ; No dread of perils farre , or imminent , But doth preferre before all pompe or pelfe , The sweet of Loue , as dearer then himselfe : Who were his passage stop'd with sword or fire , Would make way through to compasse his desire . For which he would ( though heauen and earth forbad it , ) Hazard to lose a Kingdome , if he had it . These be the things wherein I glory most , Whereof this mine accuser cannot boast : Who was indifferent in his losse or gaine , And better pleas'd to faile then to obtaine . All quallified Affection Loue doth hate , And likes him best that 's most intemperate . But hence proceedes his malice and despight , While he himselfe barres of his owne delight : For when as he Alcilia first affected , Like one in shew thou little loue respected , He masqu'd disguis'd , and entertain'd his thought , With hope of that which he in secret sought : And still forbare to vtter his desire , Till his delay receiu'd her worthy hire . And well we know what Maides themselues would haue . Men must sue for , and by petitions craue . But he regarding more his wealth then will , Had little care his fancie to fulfill . Yet when he saw Alcilia lou'd another , The secret fire which in his brest did smother , Began to smoake , and soone had prou'd a flame If Temperance had not allay'd the same : Which afterward so quench'd he did not finde But that some sparke remained still behinde . Thus when time seru'd hee did refuse to craue it , And yet enuy'd another man should haue it : As though faire Maids should waite at yong mens pleasure , While they , twixt sport and earnest , loue at leasure . Nay , at the first , when it is kindly proffer'd Maides must accept , lest twice it be not offer'd : Else though their beauty seeme their good t' importune , Yet may they lose the better of their fortune . Thus as this fondling coldly went about it , So in the end he cleerely went without it : For while hee doubtfull seem'd to make a stay , A Mungrell stole the Maidens heart away : For which though he lamented much in show ; Yet was he inward glad it fell out so . Now Reason , you may plainely iudge by this , Not I , but he the false dissembler is : Who while fond loue his luke-warme bloud did feede , Made signe of more then he sustain'd indeede : And fill'd his Rimes with fables and with lyes , Which without passion he did oft deuise . So to delude the ignorance of such That pittied him , thinking hee lou'd too much , And with conceit rather to shew his wit , Then manifest his faithfull loue by it . Much more then this could I lay to his charge , But time would faile to open all at large . Let this suffice to shew his bad intent , And proue that Loue is cleare and innocent . Thus at the length , though late , he made an end , And both of vs did earnestly attend The finall iudgement Reason should award , When thus he gan to speake : With due regard The matter hath beene heard on eyther side , For Iudgement you must longer time abide : The cause is waightie and of great import , And so she smiling did adiorne the Court : Little auail'd it then to argue more : So I return'd in worse case then before .

Loue decyphered . LOVE , and I , are now diuided , Conceit by Error was misguided : Alcilia hath my loue despised , " No man loues that is aduised . Time at length hath Truth directed , Loue hath miss'd what hee expected : Yet missing that which long he sought , I haue found that I little thought . Errors in time may be redrest ; " The shortest follies are the best . Loue and Youth are now asunder , Reasons glory , Natures wonder . My thoughts long bound are now inlarg'd , My follies pennance is discharg'd . Thus Time hath altered my state , Repentance neuer comes too late . Ah well I finde that Loue is nought But folly , and an idle thought : The difference is twixt Loue and mee , That Loue is blinde , and I can see . Loue is honie mixt with gall ; A thraldome free , a freedome thrall ; A bitter sweet , a pleasant sowre , Got in a yeere , lost in an howre ; A peacefull warre , a warlike peace , Whose wealth brings want , whose want increase ; Full long pursuite , and little gaine ; Vncertaine pleasure , certaine paine ; Regard of neyther right nor wrong ; For short delights , repentance long . Loue is a sicknesse of the thought , Conceit of pleasure dearely bought ; A restlesse passion of the minde ; A Labyrinth of errors blinde ; A sugred poyson , faire deceit ; A baite for fooles , a furious heate ; A chilling cold ; a wondrous passion Exceeding mans imagination : Which none can tell in whole nor part , But onely he that feeles the smart . Loue is sorrow mixt with gladnesse , Feare with hope , and hope with madnesse . Long did I loue , but all in vaine , I louing was not lou'd againe ; For which my heart sustain'd much woe , It fits not Maides to vse men so . Iust deserts are not regarded , Neuer loue so ill rewarded : But all is lost that is not sought , Oft wit proues best that 's dearest bought . Women were made for mens reliefe , To comfort , not to cause their griefe . Where most I merit , least I finde , No maruell , since that Loue is blinde . Had she beene kinde as she was faire , My case had beene more strange and rare : But women loue not by desart , Reason in them hath weakest part . Then henceforth let them loue that list , I will beware of had-I-wist , These faults had better beene conceal'd , Then to my shame abroad reueal'd : Yet though my youth did thus miscarry , My harmes may make others more wary . Loue is but a youthfull fit ; And some men say it's signe of wit ; But he that loues as I haue done , To passe the day and see no Sunne , Must change his noate , and sing , Erraui , Or else may chance to cry Peccaui . The longest day must haue his night , Reason triumphs in Loues despight , I follow now Discretions lore , Henceforth to like , but loue no more . Then gently pardon what is past , For Loue drawes onward to his last . He walkes ( they say ) with wary eye , Whose foote-steps neuer tread awry . My Muse a better worke intends , And here my Louing-folly ends . After long stormes and tempests past , I see the Hauen at the last , Where I must rest my weary Barke , And there vnlade my care and carke : My paines and trauels long indur'd , And all my wounds must there be cur'd : Ioyes out of date shall be renew'd , To thinke of perils past eschew'd : When I shall sit full blithe and iolly , And talke of Louers and their folly . Then Loue and Folly both adieu , Long haue I beene misled by you : Folly may new aduentures trie , But Reason sayes that Loue must dye : Yea , dye indeede although it grieue him , For my cold heart cannot relieue him : Yet for her sake , whom I once loued , ( Though all in vaine , as Time haue proued ) I le take the paines ( if shee consent ) To write his Will and Testament .

Loues last Will and Testament . MY spirit I bequeath vnto the ayre ; My body shall vnto the earth repaire ; My burning brond vnto the Prince of hell , T' increase mens paines that there in darknes dwell : For well I weene , aboue nor vnderground , A greater paine then that may not be found : My sweet conceits of pleasure and delight To Erebus , and to eternall night : My sighs , my teares , my passions , and laments , Distrust , despaire , all these my hourely rents , With other plagues that Louers mindes inthrall , Vnto Obliuion I bequeath them all . My broken Bow and Shafts I giue to Reason ; My cruelties , my sleights , and forged treason , To women-kinde , and to their seede for aye , To wreake their spight , and work poore mens decay ; Reseruing onely for Alcilia's part , Small kindnesse , and lesse care of Louers smart : For shee is from the vulgar sort excepted , And had shee Philoparthens loue respected , Requiting it with like affection , She might haue had the praise of all perfection . This done ; if I haue any faith or troth To Philoparthen I assigne them both ; For vnto him of right they doe belong , Who truely louing suffred too much wrong . Time shall be sole Executor of my Will , Who may these things in order due fulfill . To warrant this my Testament for good , I haue subscrib'd it with my dying bloud . And so hee dy'd that all this bale had bred , And yet my heart misdoubts hee is not dead : For sure I feare should I Alcilia spie , She might eftsoones reuiue him with her eye . Such power diuine remaineth in her sight , To make him liue againe in Deaths despight .

The Sonnets following were written by the Author , after he beganne to decline from his passionate affection , and in them he seemeth to please himselfe , with describing the vanitie of LOVE , the frailtie of Beautie , and the sower fruits of Repentance . I. NOw haue I spun the web of my owne woes , And labour'd long to purchase my owne losse : Too late I see , I was beguil'd with showes , And that which once seem'd gold , now proues but drosse . Thus am I both of help and hope bereaued , He neuer tryed that neuer was deceiued . II. Once did I loue , but more then once repent , When vintage came , my grapes were sower , or rotten Long time in griefe and pensiue thoughts I spent , And all for that which Time hath made forgotten . O strange effects of Time , which once being lost ; Makes men secure of that they loued most . III. Thus haue I long in th' ayre of error houer'd , And runne my ship vpon Repentance shelfe : Truth hath the vale of Ignorance vncouer'd , And made me see , and seeing , know my selfe . Of former follies now I must repent , And count this worke part of my time ill spent . IIII. " What thing is Loue ? A Tyrant of the minde , " Begot by heate of youth , brought forth by sloth ; " Nurst with vain thoughts , & changing as the wind " A deepe dissembler , voyd of faith and troth : " Fraught with fond errors , doubts , despite , disdaine , " And all the plagues that earth and hell containe . V. Like to a man that wanders all the day Through waies vnknown , to seeke a thing of worth And at the night sees he hath gone astray : As neare his end as when he first set forth , Such is my case , whose hope vntimely crost , After long errors , proues my labour lost . VI. Fail'd of that hap , whereto my hope aspired , Depriu'd of that which might haue bin mine owne , Another now must haue that I desired , And things too late by their euents are knowne : Thus doe we wish for that cannot be got , And when it may , then we regard it not . VII . Ingratefull Loue , since thou hast plaid thy part , Enthralling him , whom Time hath since made free , It rests for me to vse both wit and Art , That of my wrongs I may reuenged be : And in those eyes where first thou took'st thy fire , Thy selfe shalt perish through my cold desire . VIII . Grieue not thy selfe for that can not be had , And things once curelesse , let them carelesse rest : Blame not thy fortune , though thou deeme it bad , What 's past and gone , can neuer be redrest . " The onely helpe for that can not be gained , " Is to forget it might haue beene obtained . IX . How happy once did I my selfe esteeme , While Loue with hope my fond desire did cherish ? My state as blissefull as a Kings did seeme , Had I beene sure my ioyes should neuer perish . The thoughts of men are fed with expectation , " Pleasures themselues are but imagination . X. Why should we hope for that which is to come , Where the euent is doubtfull and vnknowne ? Such fond presumptions soone receiue their doome , When things expected we count as our owne . Whose issue oft times in the end proues nought But hope , a shadow , and an idle thought . XI . In vaine doe we complaine our life is short , Which well dispos'd , great matters might effect : While wee our selues in toyes and idle sport , Consume the better part , without respect : And carelesse , as though time should neuer end it , Twixt sleepe and waking prodigally spend it . XII . Youthfull desire is like the Summer season , That lasts not long , for winter must succeede : And so our passions must giue place to reason , And riper yeares more ripe effects must breed . Of all the seede youth sowed in vaine desires , I reaped nought but thistles , thornes , and bryers . XIII . To erre , and doe amisse , is giuen to men by kinde : Who walkes so sure , but sometimes treads awry ? But to continue still in errors blinde , A bad and beastiall nature doth descry . Who proues not , fails not , and brings nought to end ; Who proues and failes , may afterward amend . XIIII . There was but one , and doubtlesse she the best , Whom I did more then all the world esteeme : She hauing fail'd , I disauow the rest : For now I finde things are not as they seeme . " Default of that wherein our will is crost , " Oft times vnto our good auaileth most . XV. I fare like him , who now his land-hope spent , By vnknowne Seas sayles to the Indian shore , Returning thence no richer then he went , Yet cannot much his fortune blame therefore , Since who so venters forth vpon the Mayne , Makes a good Mart , if he returne againe . XVI . Louers conceits are like a flatt'ring Glasse , That makes the lookers fairer then they are : Who pleas'd in their deceit , contented passe , Such one was mine , who thought there was none faire , None witty , modest , vertuous but she . Yet now I finde the Glasse abused me . XVII . Adiew fond Loue , the mother of all error , Repleate with hope and feare , with ioy and paine : False fire of fancy , full of care and terror , Shadow of pleasures fleeting , short and vaine , Dye loathed loue , receiue thy latest doome , Night be thy graue , Obliuion be thy tombe . XVIII . Who so would be rapt vp into the heauens , To see a world of strange imaginations ; Who carelesse would leaue all at sixe and seauen , To wander in a Labyrinth of passions ; Who would at once all kindes of folly proue : When he hath nought to doe , then let him loue . XIX . " What thing is Beautie ? Natures dearest Minion , " The snare of youth ; like the inconstant Moone , " Waxing and wayning ; error of opinion ; " A mornings flower , that withereth ere noone ; " A swelling fruit , no sooner ripe then rotten , " Which sicknes makes forlorne , and time forgotten . XX. The Spring of youth which now is in his prime . Winter of age with hoary frosts shall nip : Beautie shall then be made the prey of Time , And sower remorse deceitfull pleasures whip . Then henceforth let Discretion rule Desire , And Reason quench the flame of Cupids fire . XXI . O what a life was that sometime I led , When Loue with passions did my peace incumber While like a man neyther aliue nor dead , I was rapt from my selfe , as one in slumber ? Whose idle senses charm'd with fond illusion , Did nourish that which bred their owne confusion XXII . The childe for euer after dreads the fire That once therewith by chance his finger burned : Water of Time , distill'd , doth coole desire , And farre hee ran ( they say ) that neuer turned . After long stormes I see the Port at last , Folly farewell , for now my loue is past . XXIII . Base seruile thoughts of men too much deiected , That seek , and crouch , & kneele for womens grace , Of whom your paine and seruice is neglected , Your selues despis'd : Riuals before your face : The more you sue , the lesse you shall obtaine , The lesse you win , the more shall be your gaine . XXIIII . In looking backe vnto my follies past , While I the present with times past compare : And thinke how many houres I then did wast , Painting on clouds , and building in the ayre : I sigh within my selfe , and say in sadnes , This thing , which fooles call Loue , is nought but madnes . XXV . " The things we haue , we most of all neglect ; " And that we haue not greedily we craue ; " The things we may haue little we respect ; " And still we couet that we cannot haue : " Yet howsoe'er in our conceit we prise them , " No sooner gotten but we straight despise them . XXVI . Who seates his loue vpon a womans will , And thinkes thereon to build an happy state : Shall be deceiu'd , when least he thinkes of ill , And rue his folly when it is too late . He plowes on sand , and sowes vpon the winde , That hopes for constant loue in women kinde . XXVII . I will no longer spend my time in toyes , Seeing Loue is error , folly , and offence : An idle fit for fond and retchlesse boyes , Or else for men depriu'd of common sense , Twixt Lunacy and Loue these ods appeare , Th' one makes fools monthly , th' other all the yeare . XXVIII . While season seru'd to sow , my plough lay still ; My Grafts vnset , when others Trees did bloome ; I spent the Spring in sloath , and slept my fill : But neuer thought of Winters colde to come , Till Spring was spent , and Summer well nigh gone , Then I awak'd , and saw my Haruest none . XXIX . Now Loue sits all alone in blacke attyre , His broken Bow and Arrowes lying by him ; His fire extinct , that whilome fed desire , Himselfe the scorne of Louers that passe by him : Who this day freely may disport and play , For it is Philoparthens Holy-day . XXX . Nay , thinke not Loue , with all thy cunning slight , To catch me once againe : thou com'st too late : Sterne Industry puts Idlenesse to flight , And Time hath changed both my name and state : Then seeke else where for Mates that may befriend thee ; For I am busie , and cannot attend thee . XXXI . Loose Idlenesse , the nurse of fond Desire ; Roote of all ils that doe our youth betide , That whilome didst through Loue my wracke conspire , I banish thee , and rather wish t' abide All austere hardnesse , and continuall paine , Then to reuoke thee , or to loue againe . XXXII . The time will come , when looking in a Glasse , Thy riueled face with sorrow thou shalt see : And sighing say , it is not as it was , These cheeks were wont more faire and fresh to be : But now what once made me so much admired , Is least regarded , and of none desired . XXXIII . Though thou be faire , thinke Beauty is a blast , A mornings dewe , a shadow quickly gone , A painted flower , whose colour will not last : Time steales away when least we thinke thereon ; Most precious Time , too wastfully expended , Of which alone the sparing is commended . XXXIIII . How vaine is youth , that cross'd in his desire , Doth fret and fume , and inwardly repine , As though 'gainst heauen it selfe he would conspire , And with his frailtie 'gainst his Fate combine : Who of it selfe continues constant still , And doth vs good oft times against our will . XXXV . In prime of youth when yeeres and wit was ripe , Vnhappy Will to ruine led the way : Wit daunc'd about , when Folly gan to pipe , And Will and hee together went astray . Nought then but pleasure was the good they sought Which now Repentance proues too dearly bought . XXXVI . Hee that in matters of delight and pleasure Can bridle his outragious affection : And temper it in some indifferent measure , Doth proue himselfe a man of good discretion . In conquering Will true courage most is showne , And sweet temptations make mens vertues known . XXXVII . Each naturall thing by course of kinde we see , In his perfection long continueth not : Fruits once full ripe will then fall from the Tree , Or in due time not gathered soone will rot . It is decreed by doome of Powers diuine , Things at their height must thence againe decline . XXXVIII . Thy large smooth forehead wrinckled shall appeare Vermilion hue , to pale and wan shall turne ; Time shal deface what Youth hath held most deare ; Yea those clear eyes which once my hart did burne , Shall in their hollow circles logde the night , And yeeld more cause of terror then delight . XXXIX . Loe here the record of my follies past , The fruits of wit vnstaid , and houres misspent : Full wise is hee that perils can fore-cast , And so by others harmes his owne preuent . All worldly pleasure that delights the sense , Is but a short sleepe , and times vaine expence . XL. The Sunne hath twice his annuall course perform'd , Since first vnhappy I beganne to loue : Whose errors now by Reasons rule reform'd , Conceits of Loue but smoake and errors proue . Who of his folly seekes more praise to winne , Where I haue made an end , let him beginne . I. C. FINIS .

THE METAMORPHOSIS OF Pigmalions Image .

LONDON : Printed for Richard Hawkins , dwelling in Chancery-Lane , neare Sarjeants-Inne . 1613.

THE ARGVMENT of the Poeme .

PIgmalion whose chaste minde all the beauties in Cyprus could not ensnare , yet at the length hauing carued in Iuory an excellent proportion of a beauteous woman , was so deepely enamored on his owne workemanship , that he would oftentimes lay the Image in bed with him , and fondly vse such petitions and dallyance , as if it had beene a breathing creature . But in the end , finding his fond dotage , and yet perseuering in his ardent affection , made his deuout prayers to Venus , that shee would vouchsafe to inspire life into his Loue , and then ioyne them both together in marriage . Whereupon Venus graciously condiscending to his earnest sute , the Maid ( by the power of her Deitie ) was metamorphosed into a liuing woman . And after , Pigmalion ( being in Cyprus ) begat a Sonne of her , which was called Paphus ▪ whe●eupon , that Iland Cyprus , in honour of Venus , was after , and is now , called by the Inhabitants , Paphos .

To his Mistresse . MY wanton Muse lasciuiously doth sing Of sportiue loue , of louely dallying . O beauteous Angell , daine thou to infuse A sprightly wit into my dulled Muse. I inuocate none other Saint but thee , To grace the first bloomes of my Poësie . Thy fauours , like Promethean sacred fire , In dead and dull conceit can life life inspire . O● , like that rare and rich Elixar stone , Can turne to Gold , Leaden inuention : Be gracious then , and daine to show in mee The mighty power of thy Deitie . And as thou read'st ( Faire ) take compassion , Force me not enuy my Pigmalion . Then when thy kindnesse grants me such sweet blisse , I le gladly write thy Matamorphosis .

PIGMALION . I. PIgmalion , whose high Loue-hating minde , Disdain'd to yeeld seruile affection , Or amorous sute to any woman-kinde , Knowing their wants and mens perfection . Yet Loue at length forc'd him to know his Fate , And loue the shade , whose substance hee did hate . II. For hauing wrought in purest Iuory So faire an Image of a womans feature , That neuer yet proudest mortalitie Could shew so rare and beauteous a Creature , ( Vnlesse my Mistresse all-exceeding face , ●hich giues to beautie beauties onely grace . ) III. He was amazed at the wondrous rarenesse Of his owne workmanships perfection : He thought that Nature ne'er produc'd such fairenes In which all beauties haue their mansion . And thus admiring was enamored Of that faire Image himselfe portrayed . IIII. And naked as it stood before his eyes , Imperious Loue declares his Deitie : O what alluring beauties he descries In each part of his faire imagerie ! Her nakednesse each beauteous shape containes , All beautie in her nakednesse remaines . V. He though he saw the bloud run through the veyne , And leape , and swell with all alluring meanes : Then feares he is deceiu'd ; and then againe He thinkes he sees the brightnesse of the beames Which shoote from out the fairenesse of her eye , At which hee stands as in an extasie . VI. Her Amber-coloured fayre shining hayre , Makes him protest , the Sunne hath spread her head With golden beames and made her far more faire : But when her cheeks his amorous thoughts haue fed Then hee exclaymes such red , and such pure white Did neuer blesse the eye of mortall sight . VII . Then view'd her lips , no lips did seeme so faire In his conceit , through which hee thinkes doth flye So sweet a breath , that doth perfume the ayre . Then next her dimpled chinne he doth descry , And viewes and wonders , and yet viewes her still : " Loues eyes in viewing neuer haue their fill . VIII . Her brests like polish'd Iuory appeare , Whose modest mount , doe blesse admiring eye , And makes him wish for such a Pillow beare . Thus fond Pigmalion striueth to descry Each beauteous part , not letting ouer-slip One parcell of his curious workmanship . IX . Vntill his eye descended so farre downe , That it descryed Loues Pauillion ; Where Cupid doth inioy his onely crowne , And Venus hath her chiefest mansion : There would he winke , and winking looke againe , Both eies and thoughts would gladly there remaine . X. Who euer saw the subtle Citie Dame In sacred Church , when her pure thoughts should pray , Peire through her fingers , so to hide her shame , When that her eye her minde would faine bewray . So would he view and winke , and view againe , A chaster thought could not his eyes retaine . XI . Hee wondred that she blusht not when his eye Saluted those same parts of secrecie : Conceiting not it was imagerie That kindly yeelded that large libertie . Oh that my Mistresse were an Image too , That I might blamelesse her perfections view . XII . But when the faire proportion of her thigh Beganne appeare : O Ouid would he cry , Did ere Corinna shew such Iuorie , When she appear'd in Venus liuorie ? And thus enamored doates on his owne Art , Which he did worke to worke his pleasing smart . XIII . And fondly doating oft he kist her lip , Oft would he dally with her Iuory brests : No wanton Loue-tricke would he ouer-slip , But still obseru'd all amorous behests , Whereby he thought he might procure the loue Of his dull Image , which no plaints could moue . XIIII . Looke how the peeuish Papists crouch and kneele To some dumbe Idoll , with their offering , As if a senslesse carued stone could feele The ardor of his bootlesse chattering : So fond he was , and earnest in his sute To his remorcelesse Image , dumbe , and mute . XV. He oft doth wish his soule might part asunder , So that one halfe in her had residence : Oft hee exclaimes , ô beauties onely wonder , Sweet modell of delight , faire excellence , Be gracious vnto him that formed thee , Compassionate his true-loues ardencie ! XVI . Shee with her silence seemes to grant his sute , Then he all iocund like a wanton Louer , With amorous imbracements doth salute Her slender waste , presuming to discouer The vale of Loue , where Cupid doth delight To sport , and dally all the sable night . XVII . His eyes , her eyes , kindely encountered , His brest , her brest , oft ioyned close vnto , His armes imbracements oft she suffered : Hands , armes , eies , tongue , lips , & all parts did wooe ; His thigh with hers , his knee plaid with her knee : " A happy consort when all parts agree . XVIII . But when he saw poore soule hee was deceiued , ( Yet scarce he could beleeue his sense had failed , ) Yet when he found all hope from him bereaued , And saw how fondly all his thoughts had erred , Then did he like to poore Ixion seeme , That clipt a cloud in stead of heauens Queene . XIX . I oft haue smil'd to see the foolerie , Of some sweet Youths , who seriously protest That Loue respects not actuall luxurie : But onely ioyes to dally , sport , and iest , Loue is a childe contented with a toy , A Busk-point , or some fauour stils the Boy XX. Marke my Pigmalion whose affections ardor May be a mirror to posteritie : Yet viewing , touching , kissing , ( common fauour ) Could neuer satiate his loues ardencie . And therfore ( Ladies ) thinke that they ne'er loue you Who doe not vnto more then kissing moue you . XXI . For my Pigmalion kist , view'd , and imbraced , And yet exclaimes ; Why were these women made ( O sacred Gods ) and with such beauties graced ? Haue they not power as well to coole and shade , As for to heate mens hearts ? Or is there none ? Or are they all , like mine , relentlesse stone ? XXII . With that hee takes her in his louing armes , And downe within a Downe-bed softly laid her : Then on his knees hee all his senses charmes , To inuocate sweet Venus for to raise her To wished life , and to infuse some breath , To that which dead , yet gaue a life to death . XXIII . Thou sacred Queene of sportiue dallying , ( Thus he beginnes ) Loues onely Empresse , Whose kingdome rests in wanton reuelling , Let me beseech thee shew thy powerfulnesse In changing stone to flesh ; make her relent , And kindely yeeld to thy sweet blandishment . XXIIII . O gracious Gods , take compassion , Instill into her some celestiall fire , That she may equalize affection , And haue a mutuall loue , and loues desire . Thou know'st the force of Loue , then pitty me , Compassionate my true loues ardencie . XXV . Thus hauing said , hee riseth from the floore , As if his soule diuined him good fortune , Hoping his prayers to pittie mou'd some Power ; For all his thoughts did all good lucke importune : And therefore straight he strips him naked quite , That in the bed he might haue more delight . XXVI . Then thus , Sweet sheetes , he sayes , which now doe couer The Idoll of my soule , the fairest one That euer lou'd , or had an amorous Louer , Earths onely modell of perfection : Sweet happy sheetes daine for to take me in , That I my hopes and longing thoughts may win . XXVII . With that his nimble limbs doe kisse the sheetes , And now he bowes him for to lay him downe ; And now each part with her faire parts doe meet , Now doth he hope for to inioy Loues crowne : Now doe they dally , kisse , imbrace together , Like Leda's Twinnes at sight of fairest weather . XXVIII . Yet all 's conceit : but shadow of that blisse , Which now my Muse striues sweetly to display In this my wondrous Metamorphosis . Daine to beleeue mee , now I sadly say ; The stony substance of his Image feature , Was straight transform'd into a liuing Creature . XXIX . For when his hands her faire form'd limbs had felt , And that his armes her naked waist imbraced , Each part like Waxe before the Sunne did melt : And now , oh now , he findes how he is graced By his owne worke . Tut , women will relent When as thy finde such mouing blandishment . XXX . Doe but conceiue a Mothers passing gladnesse , ( After that Death her onely sonne hath seazed , And ouerwhelm'd her soule with endlesse sadnesse ) When that she sees him gin for to be raised From out his deadly sound to life againe : Such ioy Pigmalion feeles in euery veyne . XXXI . And yet hee feares he doth but dreaming finde So rich content , and such celestiall blisse : Yet when he proues , and findes her wondrous kinde Yeelding soft touch for touch , sweet kisse for kisse , Hee 's well assur'd no faire Imagerie Could yeeld such pleasing loues felicitie . XXXII . O wonder not to heare me thus relate , And say to flesh transformed was a stone ; Had I my Loue in such a wished state As was afforded to Pigmalion , Though flinty hard , of her you soone should see As strange a transformation wrought by mee . XXXIII . And now me thinkes some wanton itching eare With lustfull thoughts and ill attention , List's to my Muse , expecting for to heare The amorous description of that action Which Venus seekes , and euer doth require , When fitnesse grants a place to please desire . XXXIIII . Let him conceit but what himselfe would doe When that he had obtained such a fauour Of her to whom his thoughts were bound vnto , If she , in recompence of his loues labour Would daine to let one payre of sheetes containe The willing bodies of those louing twaine . XXXV . Could he , oh could he , when that each to eyther Did yeeld kinde kissing , and more kinde imbracing ; Could he when that they felt , and clipt together , And might inioy the life of dallying , Could he abstaine , midst such a wanton sporting , From doing that which is not fit reporting ? XXXVI . What would he doe when that her softest skinne Saluted his with a delightfull kisse ? When all things fit for loues sweet pleasuring , Inuited him to reape a Louers blisse ? What he would doe , the selfe-same action Was not neglected by Pigmalion . XXXVII . For when he found that life had tooke his seate Within the brest of his kinde beauteous Loue , When that he found that warmth and wished heat , Which might a Saint and coldest spirit moue , Then armes , eyes , hands , tongue , lips , and wanton thigh , Were willing agents in Loues luxurie . XXXVIII . Who knowes not what ensues ? O pardon me Yee gaping eares that swallow vp my lines , Expect no more . Peace idle Poesie : Be not obsceane , though wanton in thy rimes . And chaster thoughts , pardon if I doe trip , Or if some loose lines from my penne doe slip . XXXIX . Let this suffice , that that same happy night So gracious were the Gods of Marriage , Mid'st all their pleasing and long wish'd delight , Paphus was got : of whom in after age Cyrus was Paphos call'd , and euermore Those Ilanders doe Venus name adore . FINIS .

THE LOVE OF AMOS AND LAVRA .

Written by S. P.

VIRESCIT VULNERA VERITAS

printer's or publisher's device

LONDON Printed for Richard Hawkins , dwelling in Chancery-Lane : neere Sarieants-Inne , 1613.

TO MY APPROVED AND MVCH RESPECTED FRIEND , 〈…〉 : W ▪ TO thee thou more then thrice beloued friend , I too vnworthie of so great a blisse : These harsh tun'd lines I he●e to thee commend , Thou being cause it is now as it is : For hadst thou held thy tongue by silence might , These had bene buried in Obliuions night . If they were pleasing , I would call them thine , And disavow my title to the verse : But being bad , I needs must call them mine , No ill thing can be clothed in thy verse . Accept them then , and where I haue offended , Rase thou it out , and let it be amended . S. P.

THE AVTHOR TO HIS BOOKE . GO little booke into the largest world , And blase the chastnes of thy maiden Muse : Regardles of all enuie on thee hurld , By the vnkindnes that the readers vse : And those that enuie thee by scruples letter , Bid them take pen in hand and make a better .

THE LOVE OF Amos and Laura . IN the large confines of renowned France There liu'd a Lord , whom Fortune did aduance , Who had a Daughter , Laura call'd the faire ; So sweet , so proper , and so debonaire , That strangers tooke her for to be none other , Then Venus selfe , the God of Loues owne Mother . Not farre from thence was scituate a Towne , The Lord thereof a man of great renowne ; Whom likewise Fortune blessed with a Sonne , Amos by name , so modest , ciuill , yong , And yet in fight so wondrous and so bold , As that therein he passed vncontroul'd : So kinde to strangers , and so meeke to all ; Of comely grace , and stature somewhat tall . As the wide world not two such Impes affords , As were the off-springs of these happy Lords . Hunting he lou'd , and therefore in a morne He shakes off sleepe ( for case he laughes to scorne ) Before the sable Curtaines of the East Proclaim'd the Sunnes approach vnto the west ; Or Tytan , Lordly Ruler of the morne , Had in his Chariot , left the night forlorne ; ●he An●●●odes . Or sounded sleepe to them , with whom ( men say ) It 's dark some night when we enioy the day : He brac'd his Hounds , and striding o'er his Steed , Hope with a conquest did the youngster feed : Which done , he hyes him to a mighty wood , That ioyn'd where Laura's Fathers Pallace stood . Thither being come , a Bore he rais'd , whose pace Did make our hunts-man loose his Hounds in chase : Ranging the woods , he light into a Groue , More pleasant farre then that where Venus stroue To win Adonis to her hearts desire , Moued by the burning zeale of sweet Loues fire . In this sweet Groue God Pan did keepe his Court , And summon'd all the petty Gods resort , As Satyres , Nymphes , and others , to the same , Where all sing prayses vnto Laura's name . Into this Groue ( neare to her chamber side ) ( To take the Ayre ) she comes forth ; soone espide Of the yong Hunts-man , who made haste vnto her , And thus the Nouice there beginnes to wooe her : Parragon of beauty , diuine , though earthly creature , And yet Celestiall in thy heauenly feature . This sodaine courting , and vnwelcome sight , Made her adde wings to feare , and to that , flight : He following after , caught her by the traine , That in a rage the Maide turn'd backe againe , And did demaund why he without remorse , Durst cause her stay , against her will , by force . Mou'd by the rosiate colour of thy face , ( Wherein consists ( quoth he ) all heauenly grace ) I was too bold , I must confesse indeede , To touch the seluage of thy sacred weede : For which my selfe I le punish as thou wilt , With any paine , for my deserued guilt . Doe but pronounce the sentence of my death , These hands shall be the butchers of my breath : But since the merit of my fault 's no deeper , Oh let me be thy Prisoner , thou my Keeper ; So shall thine eyes be witnesse of the woe , Which for my bold offence I le vndergoe . Pronounce thy sentence then . Wherwith she spake , You are your Crafts-man Sir : and there she brake . Yet turning backe , quoth she , ô would t were true , Your loue were firme to me , as mine to you ! And here she ceased : for when he came neare her , She was afraid that he would ouer-heare her . And art thou so vnwilling then , quoth hee , To doome the sentence which I aske of thee ? Perswade thy selfe it is thy purer minde That will not let thy heart proue so vnkinde : O would that minde were mine , to ioyne thy hart Eyther to end my life , or ease my smart . Loue is my sute . Nor hate is my reply , Quoth she . Quoth hee , I cannot court it I ; They which but view the error in my lookes , May finde I neuer learn'd in Cupids bookes : But like a stone rough hewen from the rockes , And after polish'd by the Masons knockes , The former shewes but base then in compare , So to my loue my speech disgraces are : For were my speech true patterne of my minde , Not as it doth , should 't come , but farre more kinde . Like as the Marchant hearing of a losse , Is wondrous sory for so great a crosse ; And after heareth by a true report , His goods are safely landed in the Fort , Cannot expresse the ioy he doth conceiue : For why ? it doth his senses quite bereaue ; And yet with signe of sorrow blames th' euent , Although it seeme most plaine and euident . Or like a Ship toss'd by tempestuous weather , Now here , then there ; now back againe , then thither That whirle-windes meeting ( roaring out aloud ) Make watry mountaines shew the ship each cloud : Then with such fury they descend the deepe , From top of triple-Cedar-mountaines steepe , As of the Seas rich orientall shew , Against their wils they take a counterview . So fares his minde , which tossed to and fro , Sometimes doth ioy , and other times is woe : Sometimes from depth ascends into the ayre , And though he hope , he hides it with despayre . So long with feruent zeale he mou'd his sute , Onely for want of words his tongue was mute . " Where true affection rules in hottest fires , " Dumbe signes and tokens then shew mens desires ▪ For what he thought he shew'd , he could not vtter , Which made him oft when he shold speak to mutter . She that was wounded with the selfe-same dart , Reueal'd with tongue that which she wisht with hart And fram'd her answere , so much 't could not grieue him , For 't was a salue to wound and to relieue him . Say I could loue , quoth she , my milder minde , ( Vnlesse you further moue ) cannot vnkinde , Frame you an answere : for wee are by nature So much addicted to mans heauenly feature , That though your faults are great by your abuse , To blinde the same it is our womans vse . Then as thou found'st me , leaue me , if thou wilt ; That shall be all I render for thy guilt : Further I will not credit thy report : Farewell ; be gone , for I am mist in Court . With that shee flyes , and in her flight she leaues A well wrought Scarfe , which straight the winde vp heaues ; And proud of such a prise , they doe infer With their embassage vnto Iupiter , And there presented it : who , as 't was right , Did make the windes returne't with swiftest flight , Vnto the place where Amos stood amazed At that which hapt , who like a mad-man gazed , Wondring what she by this illusion meant , When to allure him was her whole intent : But led in admiration most of all , At the rich Scarfe which from the Maide did fall . He viewes the worke , where finding of Apollo Chasing a Nymph , who swifter then a Swallow Flyeth his armes , for feare did lend her wings To flye from him which after her soone flings . Himselfe a foole he cals , that wanting skill , Being allur'd , he had not knowne her will . Doubtfull , he feares offence committed to her , That he so rashly , gain'st her will , durst wooe her . To cleare himselfe of which offence he flyes , Resolu'd to winne the Maide , or lose the prize , With prosperous hast . Oh may thy hast well speed , Whose wondrous loue did vertuously proceed : Not from the flames of filthy lusts desire , As was that Rome-borne Tarquins lustfull fire : But as vnspotlesse from that filthy thought , From that most hell-deseruing thing of nought , As euer heart lodg'd in a loyall brest , Or tongue , vntaught to lye , euer exprest . But why doe I digresse the path I tread , Cloying your eares with that your eyes doe read ? Pardon my boldnesse , and giue eare a while To that , of him , which my inferiour stile Shall now expresse : though't not with honor stands , He thinkes one paire of legs worth twice two hands . The arrow swift sent from the sturdy bow , May be accounted ( to his flight ) but slow : At last he gain'd the Court , to which being come , It shew'd like to the Pallace of the Sunne Describ'd in Ouid : for in length and fairenesse , None might surpasse the workmanship and rarenes . Through which his way lies , & he needs must passe , The pauement Marble was , the wals of Glasse : Whereunder was so liuely caru'd the Story Of great Ioues loue , his wondrous works , & glory , With many others loue : which to rehearse Would adde a mighty volume to my Verse , Besides mine owne weake wit : for I doe know it , He was a better workeman , then I Poet. Yet could not this abate the Louers pace : For he still holds the louely Maide in chase . Passing the Court , he comes into a greene , Which was in middest of the Pallace seene : Thorough the midst there ranne a pleasant Spring , On each side with a wall of Bricke hemm'd in , Onely in midst , a Stile ; beyond , a Plancke , Which for a Bridge did serue to eyther bancke . Ouer this Stile as Laura lightly skips , In her rent garment happily it slips , And held her there a while till hee came to her , Where once againe the Nouice gins to woe her . Flye not thy friend , our Maker willeth so , Things reasonlesse approue and wish it to ; If without sense and reason all things then Obserue a better course then humane men , How sauage were we then offending so , Committing that which we offence doe know ? O were my tongue a second Orpheus Harpe , That to my loue I might allure thy hearr ! Or were thy loue but equall vnto mine , Then would thou seeke his fauor who seeks thine ! Me thinkes vnkindnesse cannot come from thence , Where beauty raignes with such magnificence , I meane from thee , whom nature hath endow'd With more then Art would willingly allow'd : And though by nature you are borne most faire , Yet Art would adde a beautie to your share : But it being spotlesse doth disdaine receipt Of all vnpolish'd painting counterfeit . Your beautie is a snare vnto our wayes , Wherein once caught , wee cannot brooke delayes ; Which makes vs oft through griefe of minde grow sad , Griefe follows grief , then malecontent & mad . Thus by deniall doe you cause our woe , And then doe triumph in our ouer-throw . What is it to be fayre ? onely a vanitie , A fading blossome of no perpetuitie . Consider this ; for beautie is a flower , Subiect to ill occasions euery hower ; It is a tenure holden as wee lee Durante Dei placito , not in fee . Measure my Loue then , proue it by a tryall : Let me not languish still by your deniall . If in my suite I erre , as by mischance , Blame not my Loue but count it ignorance . The tongue is but an instrument of nought , And cannot speake the largenesse of the thought : For when the minde abounds , and almost breaketh , Then through abundance of the heart it speaketh : No man can speake but what he hath in minde , Then what I speake I thinke , be not vnkinde Vnto your seruant , who obedience proffers , And makes firme loue the obiect of his offers . I will not boast of Parentage , or Lyne , For all are base , respecting thee diuine : Nor will I boast of wealth , or riches store , For in thy face consists all wealth , and more . Pure are my thoughts as skin betweene thy browes , And eke as chaste my speech , my oathes , & vowes . Speake sweetest fayre , but one kinde word to me , How can alas that be offence in thee ? There was a Dame a moderne Poet sung , Hero by name , like thee , both faire and young : And both so faire , that you did others passe As farre as rarest Dyamonds common glasse . Whom young Leander courted on a greene , A Maide so faire ( but thee ) was neuer seene . She granted loue , which he ( alas ) to gaine , To reape those ioyes , did crosse the brinish Maine . My loue to thee , I now compare to his ; Accounting danger , so requited , blisse . There are no Seas to separate our ioy , No future danger can our Loue annoy : Then grant to me what she denide not him ; If good in her , in thee it is no sinne . The Sunne hath shin'd thus long , ô let not now The Sunne be darkened by thine angry brow . But rather let each looke a Comet be That may presage my happy destinie . I could to you a short discourse impart , That would relent the direst stony hart , Wer 't not offence . It 's no offence quoth she . Then thus the same I le briefely tell , quoth he : A poore old man by chance did breake his leg , And he was told where he was wont to beg , That such a Surgion ( telling of his name , ) If that he pleas'd , could quickly cure the same . Which when he heard , to him for helpe he goes , And craues for Gods sake he would ease his woes . The Surgion greedy to haue coyne therefore , But finding none , he would not heale the sore : Which caus'd the poore old man to keepe his bed , That he for want of helpe in time was dead . Alas poore soule ; ( quoth shee ) and did he dye ? Would I were Iudge , or hee were such as I , I so would vse the Surgion , as that hee Should feele the griefe which he before did see . Thus you confesse your wrong to me sweet Maid , If you performe ( quoth he ) the words you said . I am the man , who wounded , seeke reliefe : And you , the causer of my endlesse griefe ; You are the Surgion , whom I vrge the more To cure the wound because you made the sore : Be not obdurate then , sith my disease Is quickly cured , if the Surgion please . And this I vow water shall turne to fire , Huge massie mountaines to the clouds aspire ; The Sun shall leaue his course , the Moon her brightnes , Night turne to day , and day shall lose his lightnes ; Fishes shall flye , birds swimme ; and Hare shall hunt The Hound , which to pursue the Hare was wont : Ayre , Earth , Fire , Water , all things which you view Shall change their natures , ere I turne from you : And longer then I breathe a loyall friend , Let me ( ô heauens ) endure a wicked end . Silence ( quoth she ) and here let cease thy sute , Cause of distrust in loue did make me mute : Aske why I yeelded in so short a season , Because I loue , that is a womans reason . Yet Maides are fearefull ; for by mens abuse , Courting is turned to a common vse , How is he held , that cannot in these dayes Fash'on his words to each fantasticke phrase ? Which makes vs oft with one word to debase Him from our bosomes , whom our hearts imbrace : And , as you men doe for a Prouerbe make it , That which we loue we oft say nay and take it . Delayes breede danger , wherefore what I said , And what agrees with Honour , and a Maid , I yeeld to thee , but yet on this condition , Thou shalt not dare t' attempt the least fruition Of my chaste thoughts , by drawing them aside , Before in wedlocke I am made thy Bride . This said ; shee to the Court , hee to his Hounds , Where they had slaine a Bore , whose bloud abounds : Glad of his prey , he hastneth home amaine , With short returne he comes to her againe , And hauing ioyn'd themselues in Hymens bands , The sacred Priest vniteth heart and hands : They reape those ioyes which elder louers know , And thus my Tale doth end , thus ends their woe . FINIS .

EPIGRAMMES .

Don Pedro's Debt . DON Pedro's out of debt , be bolde to say it ; For they are said to owe , that meane to pay it .

Sextus Wit. TO haue good wit is Sextus thought by many ; But sure he hides it all , hee shewes not any .

Of casting out Spirits by Prayer , without Fasting . A Vertuous Dame , who for her state and qualitie , Did euer loue to keepe great Hospitalitie ; Her name I must not name in plaine reciting , But thus , The chiefe Instrument of writing , Was by Duke Humphrey's Guests so boldly hanted , That her good minde therewith was sorely danted : She sighing said , one day , to a carelesse lester , These ill-bred guests my boord and house so pester , That I pray God oft times with all my heart , That they would leaue their haunt , and hence depart . He that by his owne humour haply ghest , What manner Sprite these smell-feasts had possest ; Tolde her the surest way such Sprites out-casting , Was to leaue Prayer a while , and fall to Fasting .

Of wicked Prayers . A Husband and a Wife oft disagreeing , And eyther weary of the others being , In choller great eyther deuoutly prayes To God , that he would shorten th' others dayes : But more deuout then both their Sonne and Heyre Prayes God that he would grant them both their prayer .

The Author , of his Fortune . TAke Fortune as it fals , so one aduiseth , But Heywood bids me take it as it riseth : And while I thinke to doe as both doe teach , It fals and riseth quite besides my reach .

Of Misse-pointing . DAmes are indu'd with vertues excellent : What man is he can proue that ? they offend Daily , they serue the Lord with good intent Seld , they displease their Husbands to the end Alwayes , to please them well they doe intend Neuer , in them one shall finde shrewdnesse much , Such are their humours , and their grace is such .

To his Wife . MY Mall , the former Verses this doth reach you , That some deceiue , some are deceiu'd by shewes : For this that in your prayse so firmely goes , With one false poynt and stop will ouer reach you , And turne the prayse to scorne , the Verse to Prose , By which you may be slandered , all as shrewes , And some perhaps may speake , and say no treason , The Verses had more time , the Prose more reason .

Of a Precise Taylor . A Taylor thought a man of vpright dealing , 〈◊〉 but for lying , honest but for stealing : Di● fall one day ext●eamely s●cke by chance , And on the sudden , was i● wondrous trance . The fiends of hell mustring in fearefull manner , Of sundry coloured ●●lkes displaid a banner Which he had stol●e , and wisht as they did tell , That he might finde it all one day in hell . The man affrighted with this apparision , Vpon recouerie gre●● a great precision : He bought a Bible of the best translation , And in his life he shewde great reformation . He walked mannerly , he talked meekely , He heard three lectures , and two sermons weekly . He vou'd to shun all companie vnruly , And in his speech he vs'd no oath but truly . And zealously to keepe the saboths rest , His meate for that day on the eue was drest . And least the custome which he had to steale , Might cause him sometime to forget his zeale , He giues his Iournyman a speciall charge , That if the stuffe allowance being large , He found his fingers were to filch inclind , Bid him to haue the banner in his mind . This done , I scant can tell the rest for laughter , A captaine of a ship came three daies after , And brought three yardes of veluet , and three quarters , To make venetians downe belowe the garters . He that precisely knew what was ynough , Soone slipt aside three quarters of the stuffe . His man espying it , said in derision , Maister remember how you saw the vision . Peace knaue quoth he , I did not see one ragge , Of such a coloured silke in all the flagge .

Of a Cittizen and his Sonne A Cittizen that dwelt neare Temple barre , By hap one day fell with his sonne at iarre : Who for his euill life and lewd demerit , He oft affirm'd he would quite disinherit . And vow'd his goods and lands all to the poore : His sonne what with his play , what with his ( ) Was so consumed at last , that he did lacke , Meate for his mouth , and clothing for his backe . O craftie pouertie , his father now , May giue him all he hath , yet keepe his vow .

Mistaking a word . AN English Lad long woed a lasse of Wales , And entertain'd her with such prettie tales , As though she vnderstood not , yet to try him , She gaue consent at last to vnderly him . Both hauing dallied to their full societie , The wench to show some womanly sobrietie , Told in her language she was well ypaide , And Diggon , Diggon once or twise she said . Digge on in welch doth signifie ynough , Which he mistaking , answeres thus in snuffe : Diggon that can ( quoth he ) for I so sore Haue diggde alreadie , I can digge no more .

Of his Cooke , named Cornish . MY Cornish Cooke in rage and fury great , Did chase , and chide , and curse & sweare , and sweate . Because the turne-broach burned had the meate . And with the basting ladle did him beate . Was not my Cooke a rash and angry Cullion , When he should bast the meate , to bast the Scullion

Of his Writings . MY Writings oft displease you . What 's the matter ? You loue not to heare truth , nor I to flatter .

Of a Ladyes Cabinet . A Vertuous Lady sitting in a muse , As oftentimes faire vertuous Ladyes vse , Did leane her elbow on her knee full hard , The other distant from it halfe a yard . Her Knight to taunt her with some priuie token , Said , Wife , awake , your Cabinet stands open . Shee rose , and blusht , and smil'd , and soft did say , Then looke it if you list , you keepe the key .

Of Wiues ruling . COncerning Wiues , hold this a certaine rule , That if at first , you let them haue the rule , Your selfe at last , with them shall haue no rule , Except you let them euermore to rule .

Of Gella's Periwig . SEe you the goodly hayre that Gella weares 'T is certaine her owne hayre , one would haue thought it . Shee sweares it is her owne , and true she sweares : For hard by Temple-barre last day she bought it . So faire an hayre vpon so foule a fore-head , Augments disgrace , and shewes her grace was borrow'd .

Of a Prater , out of Martiall . WHo so is hoarse , yet still to prate doth presse , Proues he can neyther speake , nor hold his Peace .

Of trusting to his Friend . IF you will shrowd your selfe from all mishaps , And shun the cause of many after-claps ; Put not in any one too much beliefe , Your ioy will be the lesse , so will your griefe .

Of Faustus , a stealer of Verses . I Heare that Faustus oftentimes rehearses To his chaste Mistresse certaine of my Verses : In which , by vse , so perfit he is growne ; That shee , poore foole , doth thinke they are his owne . I would esteeme it ( trust me ) grace , not shame , If Danyel , or if Dauies did the same . Nor would I storme , or would I quarrels picke , I when I list , to them could doe the like . But who can wish a man a fouler spight , Then haue a blinde man take away his sight ? A begging theefe is dangerous to my purse , A beggage Poet to my Verse is worse .

An Epitaph by a man of his Father . GOD workes wonders now and than , Here lyes a Lawyer was an honest man .

An Epitaph of Aretine . HEere lyes Aretine that poysonous Toade , Whose spightfull tongue and Pen , all Saints beshrow him , Did raile on Prince and Priest , and all but God , And said for his excuse he did not know them .

FINIS .

Notes, typically marginal, from the original text

Notes for div A17454-e1670

Notes for div A17454-e19650