¶ A very proper dittie:
to the tune of Lightie loue.
¶ Leaue Lightie loue Ladies, for feare of yll name:
And True loue embrace ye, to purchace your Fame.
BY force I am fixed my fancie to write,
Ingratitude willeth mée not to refraine:
Then blame me not Ladies although I indite
What lighty loue now amongst you doth raigne
Your traces in places, wt outward alluremēts
Doth mooue my endeuour to be the more playne:
Your nicyngs and ticings, with sundrie procurementes
To publish your lightie loue doth mée constrayne.
¶ Deceite is not daintie, it coms at eche dish,
Fraude goes a fisshyng with frendly lookes,
Throughe frendship is spoyled the seely poore fish,
That boouer and shouer vpon your false hookes,
With baight, you lay waight, to catch here and there,
Whiche causeth poore fisshes their fréedome to lose:
Then loute ye, and floute ye, wherby doth appere,
Your lighty loue Ladies, styll cloaked with glose.
¶ With DIAN so chaste, you séeme to compare,
When HELLENS you bée, and hang on her trayne:
Mée thinkes faithfull Thisbies, be now very rare,
Not one CLEOPATRA, I doubt doth remayne:
You wincke, and you twincke, tyll Cupid haue caught,
And forceth through flames your Louers to sue:
Your lyghtie loue Ladies, too deere they haue bought,
When nothyng wyll mooue you, their causes to rue.
¶ I speake not for spite, ne do I disdayne,
Your beautie fayre Ladies, in any respect:
But ones Ingratitude doth mée constrayne,
As childe hurt with fire, the same to neglect:
For proouyng in louyng, I finde by good triall,
When Beautie had brought mée vnto her becke:
She staying, not waying, but made a deniall,
And she wyng her lightie loue, gaue mée the checke.
¶ Thus fraude for frendship, did lodge in her brest,
Suche are most women, that when they espie,
Their louers inflamed with sorowes opprest,
They stande then with Cupid against their replie
They taunte, and they vaunte, they smile when they vew
How Cupid had caught them vnder his trayne,
But warned, discerned, the proofe is most true,
That lightie loue Ladies, amongst you doth reigne.
¶ It séemes by your doynges, that Cressed doth scoole ye,
Penelopeys vertues are cleane out of thought:
Mee thinkes by your constantnesse, Heleyne doth rule ye,
Whiche, both Greece and Troy, to ruyne hath brought:
No doubt, to tell out, your manyfolde driftes,
Would shew you as constant, as is the Sea sande:
To truste so vniust, that all is but shieftes,
With lightie loue bearyng your louers in hande.
¶ If ARGVS were lyuyng, whose eyes were in number▪
The Peacockes plume painted, as Wri;ters replie,
Yet Women by wiles, full sore would him [...]umber,
For all his quicke eyes, their driftes to espie:
Suche feates, with disceates, they dayly frequent,
To conquere mennes mindes, their humours to feede,
That bouldly I may geue Arbittrement:
Of this your lightie loue, Ladies in déede.
¶ Ye men that are subiect to Cupid his strooke,
And therin seemeth to haue your delight:
Thinke when you sée baight, theres hidden a hooke,
Whiche sure wyll [...]ane you, if that you do bight:
Suche wiles, and suche guiles, by women are wrought
That halfe their mischefes, men cannot preuent,
When they are most pleasant, vnto your thought,
Then nothyng but lightie loue, is their intent.
¶ Consider that poyson doth lurke oftentyme
In shape of sugre, to put some to payne:
And fayre wordes paynted, as Dawes can define,
The olde Prouerbe saith, doth make some fooles faine:
Be wise and precise, take warning by mée,
Trust not the Crocodile, least you do rue:
To womens faire wordes, do neuer agrée:
For all is but lightie loue, this is most true.
¶ ANEXES so daintie, Example may bée,
Whose lightie loue caused youg IPHIS his woe,
His true loue was tryed by death, as you sée,
Her lightie loue forced the Knight therunto:
For shame then refrayne, you Ladies therfore,
The Cloudes they doo vanish, and light doth appeare:
You can not dissemble, nor hide it no more
Your loue is but lightie loue, this is most cleare.
¶ For Troylus tried the same ouer well,
In louyng his Ladie, as Fame doth reporte:
And likewise Menander, as Stories doth tell,
Who swam the salt Seas, to his loue, to resorte:
So true, that I rue, such louers should lose
Their labour in seekyng their Ladies vnkinde:
Whose loue, thei did prooue, as the Prouerbe now goes
Euen very lightie loue, lodgde in their minde.
¶ I touche no suche Ladies, as true loue imbrace,
But suche as to lightie loue dayly applie:
And none wyll be grieued, in this kinde of case,
Saue suche as are minded, true loue to denie:
Yet frendly and kindly, I shew you my minde,
Fayre Ladies I wish you, to vse it no more,
But say what you list, thus I haue definde,
That lightie loue Ladies, you ought to abhore.
¶ To trust womens wordes, in any respect,
The danger by mée right well it is séene:
And Loue and his Lawes, who would not neglect,
The tryall wherof, moste peryllous beene:
Pretendyng, the endyng, if I haue offended,
I craue of you Ladies an Answere againe:
Amende, and whats said, shall soone be amended,
If case that your lightie loue, no longer do rayne.
¶ FINIS.
¶ Imprinted at London, in the vpper end of Fléetlane, by Richard Ihones: and are to be solde at his shop ioyning to the Southwest Dore of Saint Paules Church.
¶*⁋
An Epitaph on the death of the vertuous Matrone, the Ladie Maioresse, late wyfe to the right Honorable Lorde, (Alexander Auenet) Lord Maior of the Citie of London. Who deceased the vii. Daie of Iuly. 1570.
HElpe nowe ye Muses nyne, powre out your Noates of woe:
Aide me wt pitious pearcing plaints, the l [...] of her to shoe.
Whose Vertues (maugre Death,) shal lyue and last for aye:
As fliyng Fame in Golden Trump, doth cherefully display.
Ye Ladyes leaue your sportes: your Pastymes set asyde
To weepe this Ladies Fatall fine: Cunduictes of streames prouide.
Cast off your costly Silkes: your Iuelles nowe forsake:
To decke your selues in mournynge Weedes, now poastynge haste do make:
Helpe now ye faythfull Wyues, to wayle this faythfull Wyfe:
Whose flowynge Vertues were not hyd, whyle she enioyed lyfe,
As well to Frende as Foe, her Curtesie was knowne:
But now the Goddes haue thought it good, to clayme agayne their owne.
LVCINA hath forgot her Chardge, the fatall Fates haue don:
CLOTHO hath left the Rocke of lyfe: and LACHAS longe hath spon.
These werie of their wonted toyle, at mightie IOVES Decree:
To whom the Heauens the Earth and Sea: and all thynges Subiect bee.
The Sister dire, fearce ATROPOS, with schortchyng cuttynge Knyfe,
Hath shred the Threede that longe dyd holde, this Godly Ladies lyfe.
Whose losse deare Dames bewayle: and weepe with many a teare:
For you shall misse a Matrone graue, in daunger you to cheare.
Whose Counsell in their neede, her Neighbours could not want:
Her Helpe vnto the Comfortlesse, could neuer yet bee scant.
Vnto the poore opprest, with Sickenesse, griefe and payne:
To minister and giue reliefe: her Hart was euer fayne.
The Poore haue lost a Nurse, to helpe their nedie state:
The Ritche shall want a perfecte Frende: as they can well relate.
Thus Ritche and Poore shall want, her Aide at euerie neede,
For both Estates in daunger deepe: she laboured to feede.
The Ritche with Counselles swete, to chearish styll she thought:
The Poore by Almes and lyberall Giftes: to tender longe she sought.
But who shall haue the greatest losse: I knowe is not vnknowen,
Her best beloued: the Wight whom shee, accompted for her owne.
The Lorde MAIOR whiche nowe doth rule: in LONDON noble Citie:
Shall want her sight, (the greater griefe, to misse a Mate so wittie
A Phenyx rare, a Turtell true, so constant in her loue:
That Nature nedes must showe her Force, her Husbandes Teares to moue
Who for the losse of suche a Wyfe: can sobbyng Sighes refrayne?
In whom so many Vertues dyd, continue and remayne.
You Damselles deare Domesticall, whiche in her House abyde:
Haue cause to wayle, for you haue lost a good and godly Guide.
Whose Lenytie and gentell Hart, you all haue knowen and felt:
For vnto you in Courteous sorte, her Giftes she euer dealt.
You Officers that dayly serue, her Lorde at euery neede:
Can testifie that you haue lost, a Ladie kynde in deede.
So gentell, graue, demure and wise: as ye your selues expresse:
That needes ye must gush foorth your Teares: and weepe with bytternesse
In fyne, both Ritche and Poore, haue iust cause giuen to wayle:
The Ritch in Counsell lacke a Frende, the Poore their Comfort fayle.
The Troupe of maryed Dames, whiche shall her Vertues knowe:
Haue offered cause, in bytter Teares, some tyme for to bestowe.
But sith it is the Goddes Decree, to whom all Flesh must bende:
To take this Ladie from the earth, and bringe her dayes to ende.
Who can withholde that they wyll haue? who dare their wyll withstande?
To vayne it were for mortall men, the cause to take in hande
Her Vertues were so great, that they haue thought it meete:
To take from hence vnto the Heauens, her Christall Soule so sweete.
Which now inclosed is, with Aungelles rownde aboute:
Suche hoape we haue, no other cause, is giuen vs for to doubt.
Her Corps shall shrowde in Claye, the Earth her right doth craue:
This Ladie yeldes her Parent too: her Tombe, her Cell and Graue.
From whence, no Kynge nor Keysar can, nor Ruler bearynge swaye:
For all their Force and Puissaunce, once starte or go awaye.
All Flesshe shall haue an ende: as Goddes do graunt and wyll:
And reape rewarde as they deserue, hap good, or hap it yll.
But thoughe that Death haue done his worste, this Dame to take awaye:
In spite of Death, her Vertues shall endure and last for aye.
¶ Farewell (O Ladye Deare) the Heauens haue chosen thee
Receyue this VALE, I haue done: thou gettest no more of mee.
Post Funera viuit virtus.
Imprinted at London by Richarde Iohnes.