Eglogs epytaphes, and sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche

Eglogs epytaphes, and sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche

Table of contents

Title page

¶ Alexander Neuyll.

§

¶To the ryght worshipfull M. William Louelace, Esquier, Reader of Grayes Inne: (Barnabe Googe) wyssheth health.

§

¶ L. Blundeston to the Reader.

¶The Preface of L. Blundeston.

Egloga prima. Daphnes. Amintas.

Egloga secunda. Dametas.

Egloga tertia. Menalcas. Coridon.

Egloga quarta. Melibeus Palemon.

Egloga quinta. Mopsus. Agon.

Egloga sexta. Felix. Faustus.

Egloga septima. Siluanus. Sirenus. Seluagla.

Egloga octaua. Coridon. Cornix:

¶An Epytaphe of the Lorde Sheffeldes death.

¶An Epytaphe of M. Shelley slayne at Musselbroughe.

¶An Epytaphe of Maister Thomas Phayre.

¶An Epytaphe of the Death of Nicolas Grimaold.

¶To Mayster Alexander Nowell.

¶To Doctor Bale.

¶To M. Edwarde Cobham.

¶Of Edwardes of the Chappell.

To L. Blundeston.

The Aunswere of L. Blundeston to the same.

¶To Alexander Neuell.

Alexander Neuells Answere to the same.

¶To M. Henrye Cobham of the most blessed state of Lyfe.

¶To Alexander Neuell of the blessed Sate of him that feeles not the force of Cupids flames.

¶Alexander Neuells Awnswere to the same.

¶To Maystresse A.

¶To George Holmeden of a ronnynge Heade.

¶ The Harte absent.

¶ To Alexander Neuell.

¶The Aunswere of A. Neuell to the same.

¶To Maystresse D.

¶ Out of an olde Poet.

¶Oculi augent dolorem. Out of syght, out of mynd.

¶Of the vnfortunate choyse of his Valentyne.

¶The vncertayntie of Lyfe.

¶Of Money.

¶Goyng towardes Spayne.

¶At Bonyuall in Fraunce.

¶ Commynge home warde out of Spayne.

¶To L. Blundeston of Ingratitude.

¶The Aunswere of L. Blundeston to the same.

§

¶Cupido Conquered.

§

¶Faultes escaped in the Pryntynge.

§

§

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Eglogs Epytaphes, and Sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche.

¶Imprynted at London, by Thomas Colwell, for Raffe Newbery, dwelyng in Fleet strete a litle aboue the Conduit in the late shop of Thomas Bartelet.

¶ Alexander Neuyll.

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THe Moūtaines hie the blustryng wīds The fluds: ye Rocks wtstād

The Cities strong, the Cānons shot, & threatning Cheiftains hād.

The Castels houge by long beseyge, and dredfull battrye brooke,

Bothe fyre, & flames, and thundryng [...] thumps and euery deadly stroke,

With feruent broylyng furious rage, doth beate, and [...]ryue to ground

The long defenced wals by force, and throughly them confound.

Ryght so thy Muse (Oh worthy Googe.) thy pleasaunt frain [...]d style.

Discouerd lyes to momish Mouthes Reprochfull tongs and vyle

Diffaming minds. Regard them not. preas thou for hygher prayse.

Submit thy selfe to persons graue, whose Iudgement ryght alwayes

[Page]By Reason rulde doth ryghtly iudge, whom Fancies none can charme,

Which in the most Incōstant brains, are chyefly wont to swarme.

Whom no desyre of fylthy gayne, whom lucre none can moue

From truth to stray. Such mē esteam, Such such embrace and loue.

On such men stay thy tender years, such Patrons seeke to chuse.

Which taught by Tyme, & practisde Proofe vprightest iudgement vse.

But as for those Crabsnowted bestes those ragyng feends of Hell.

Whose vile, malicious, hatefull mindes, wt boylyng Rancour swell.

Which puft with Pryde, enflamd wt spight, & drownd in deape disdain:

Lyke Momus monstrous broode outright euen of a ielows Brayn

With curious, cāckard, carping mouthes, most famous dedes diffame,

Defacing those whose labours great, Deserue immortall name.

[Page]Such crabfaced, cākerd, carlish chuffs within whose hatefull brestes,

Suche Malice bydes, suche Rancour broyles, such endles Enuy rests

Esteame thou not. No preiudice to th [...]e: nor yet oprest,

Thy famous wrytyngs are by them. Thou lyuest and euer shalt.

Not all the slaundryng tonges aliue, may purchase blame or fault

Vnto to thy name (O worthy Goog [...].) No tyme, no fyrye flame

Not all the furies frettyng Force, Thy doynges may dyffame.

Let them in broyle of burning spight, continuall Toyle sustayne

Let thē fele scourging Plags of mind Let euer duryng payne,

Spred through their poisoned vaines. Let Care wt payse of dedly waight:

Oppresse theyr vyle infected Harts, with stynging Malyce fraight.

Let them destroy them selvs in Time. In Rancour let them boyle.

[Page]Let mortall hate, let pynching gryefe, let flamyng torments broyle,

Within theyr greuous vexed brests, for euermore to dwell

Let them fele Enuies cursed force. (consumyng Feend of Hell.)

Defye them all. [...] and squynteyd Monsters ryght

They are. In fyne leue Sow to swill and Chuff to canckerd Spyght.

But thou procede in vertuous dedes, and as thou haste begon,

Go forward styll to aduaūce thy fame Lyfes Race halfe ryghtly ron

Farre easyer tis for to obtain, the Type of true Renowne.

Like Labours haue ben recompenst with an immortall Crowne.

By this doth famouse Chaucer lyue, by this a thousande moore

Of later yeares. By this alone the olde renowmed Stoore

Of Auncient Poets lyue. By this theyr Praise aloft doth mownt.

[Page]Vnto the Skyes: and equall is with Stars aboue. Accownt

Thy selfe then worthy of the lyke, yf that thou doste proceade

By famous deds thy Fame to enhaūce and name abroade to spreade.

With Courage stout thā through the thikst thou needst not for to feare·

Not he that sayth, but he that doth, ought Gloryes Garlande weare.

Thus shalt yu styll augment thy name, and wyn the hyghe Renowne,

And present Prayse, in present Lyfe, and after Death a Crowne

Of Honour, that for euer lasts. immortall Fame in fyne.

To whose reward, thy faithfull Frend doth wholly the resygne.

¶Finis.

§

§

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B. Googe.

¶To the ryght worshipfull M. William Louelace, Esquier, Reader of Grayes Inne: (Barnabe Googe) wyssheth health.

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HOwe lothe I haue ben, beyng of long tyme earnestlye requyred, to suffer these tryfles of mine to cōe to light: It is not vnknowen to a greate nombre of my famyliar acquaintaunce. Who both dayly & hourely moued me therunto, and lytell of long tyme preuayled therin. For I both consydered and wayed with my selfe, the grosenes of my Style: whiche thus cōmytted to the gasynge [Page] shewe of euery eye shuld forth with disclose ye manifest foly of the Writer, and also I feared and mistrusted the disdaynfull myndes of a nombre both scornefull and carpynge Correctours, whose Heades are euer busyed in tauntyng Iudgementes. Least they shuld otherwyse interprete my doyngs than in deade I meant them. These two so great mischiefes vtterly diswaded me from the folowynge of my frendes perswasions, and wylled me rather to condem thē to continuall darkenes, wherby no Inconuenience could happen: than to endaunger my selfe in gyuynge them to lyght, to the disdaynfull doome of any offended mynde. Notwithstandynge all the dylygence that I [Page] coulde vse in the Suppression therof coulde not suffise for I my selfe beyng at that tyme oute of the Realme, lytell fearynge any suche thynge to happen. A verye Frende of myne, bearynge as it semed better wyll to my doynges than respectyng the hazarde of my name, commytted them all togyther vnpolyshed to the handes of the Prynter. In whose handes durynge his absence from the Cytie, tyll his returne of late they remayned. At whiche tyme, he declared the matter wholly vnto me: shewynge me, that beynge so farre past, & Paper prouyded for the Impression therof: It coulde not withoute great hynderaunce of the poore Printer [Page] be nowe reuoked. His sodayne tale made me at ye fyrst, vtterly amazed, and dou [...]ting a great while, what was best to be done: at the lengthe agreyng both with Necessytie and his Counsell, I sayde with Martiall. I [...]am edpo [...]ras tu [...]oresse domi. And calling to mynde to whom I myght chieflye cōmyt the fruytes of my smiling muse: sodaynly was cast before my eyes the perfect vewe of your frendly mynd (gentle Maister Louelace) Vnto whō for the nombred heapes of sundrye Frendshyps, accoūtynge my selfe as boūde, I haue thought best to gyue them, (not doubtyng) but that they shalbe as well taken, as I do p [...]esently meane them.

Desyry [...]e [...] herein, as all suche as shall [...] them especiallye to [Page] beare with the vnpleasaunt forme of my to hastely fynyshed Dreame, the greater part wherof with lytle aduyse I lately ended, bycause the beginnyng of it, as a senseles [...]ead separated frō the body was gyuen with the rest to be prynted. And thus desyrynge but for recompence the frendly receyuyng of my slender Gyfte, I ende: wyshyng vnto you good Mayster Louelace in this life the happye enioyeng of prosperous yeares: and hereafter the blessed estate of neuer ceasynge Ioye.

¶Yours assuredly Barnabe Googe.

§

§

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Daphnes. Amintas.

¶ L. Blundeston to the Reader.

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TO creepe into thy fauoure (good Reader) with a longe paynted Preamble in prayse of this Auctor, I account it as vain. The Sōne Beames gyues light sufficient. To moue thy Affection with fore promysed pleasure in reading the voh [...]me, I think it as Booteles. Gold is of self force and vertue to draw the desire. But wt flowers of Rethorique fyrst to delyght the, or wt Pythy Reasons to wynne thy good wyll and frendlye Reporte for this my attempte: yf suche tropes & signes were flowing in me to perswade wel thy fauour, or so muche Discrescion wantynge [Page] in the to necglecte my good meanyng, I wold eyther enforce my self to vse a better kynde of perswasion or els withdrawe my good wyll from the Sentence of so carpynge and slender a Iudgement: but as I haue felte no [...]luddes of the one, so lykewyse I see no Ebbes of the other, that if I weare no more barraygne of the fyrste, then fearefull of the laste: I woulde be then no more sparynge to horde vp my Treasure from the: then I trust to fynde the thankfull now in takyng this Present frō me, which not onely to shewe my good wyll, (as my Preface discourseth more largely) by preseruynge the worthy Fame, and Memorye of my deare frende M. Googe in his absence [Page] I haue presumed more bouldely to hazard ye prynting heareof, though this maye suffyce to excuse well my enterpryse, but also to styrre vp thy Pleasure and further thy proffit by readyng these his workes, whiche here I haue Puplyshed: openly vnto thee. And so (beyng vnstored my selffe) I seake to satesfie thy learned or willyng desyre with other mens trauaeiles. But wheare the power fayleth the will may suffyce, the gyuer, not the gyft is to be regarded: preferre Colonus Radyshe roote before the Courtiers barbed horse.

Accept my goodwyll and way not the valew, so shalt thou bynd me if power (as it is vnlykely, maye aunswere hearafter my meanynge, to gratefie thee with the whole fruits [Page] of myne owne indeuour and so shalt thou encourage others to make the partaker of the like or farre greater Iewels who yet doubtyng thy vnthankefull receyte nigardly keape them to their own vse & priuat commoditie. whear as beynge assured of the contrarye by thy frendly report of other mens trauayles, they coulde parhappes be easely entreated more frely to lend them abroad to thy greater auayle and furtherraunce. Thus therfore to thy good or euill taking I put foorth this paterne for others to follow in weightyer matters or els to beware by other mens harms, in keaping their names vnreproued by sylence.

¶From my Chambre, the .xxvii. of Maye. 1562.

¶The Preface of L. Blundeston.

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Th [...] Sen [...]es dull of my appailed mus [...]

Foreweryed with the trauayle of my brayne

[...]n stannyng of the argued Bookes di [...]use,

And darke for me the glimeryng syght [...]o [...]uyne,

Deb [...]e [...]t long what excersyce to vse,

To fyle the edgeles partes of Wyt agayn [...]

To clense the [...]eade from sleapy humours slyme.

To rouse the Hart from drowsye Dreames ī [...]ime

The mind desyres to brek frō thoughtful denne

And time requyres the painted felds to vewe.

The Eye procures to please the Fancie then

With f [...]e [...]dish sights of diuers colours newe.

The smelling likes the sauour swete of them.

The Eare agrees the pleasaunt laye anewe

Of Byrds to here. Thus these do all contryue,

With this disporte the Spirits to reuyue.

But Fancie then, by serche of selfe denyse,

Renouncyng thus to spende the pleasaunt Maye

So vainly out with sport of fruteles Pryce

Found out at length, this practyse for thy playe,

[Page]To penne in Verse, the toy [...]s of her de [...]is [...],

To pas this tyme of Pentecoste awaye

Whose ydle dayes she w [...]ld u [...]e thus to spende?

And publish forth her doings in the ende.

Quod Reason no, (and brake her tale begon,

Wilt thou presume, lyk [...] Bayarde blynd to presse,

Into the throng, of all the lookers on

Whose vewyng eyes, will wey thy wisdom [...]esse.

To se the threde of all thy work [...]s yll spon

Drawen out at length, vnto the comon g [...]sse,

Then i [...] thou shuldst kepe to thy selfe thy clewe

Where none thy works besydes thy self may vew

With this rose vp, from out her Seate behynde,

Dame Memorye, and Reason thus besought.

Since Lady chiefe of vs thou art assygnde

To rule and temper all my secrete thought

And to restrane affections Fancie blynde,

Let me entreate if I may perce the ought,

For to present a Solace very fytte

Our Sences dull with chaunged Muse to whet.

Lo here the Eye a Paper buntche doth se

Of fyled worke of Googes flowing Heade,

Lefte here behynde, when hence he past from me,

In all the stormes that Winter blastes bespreade

Through swellyng Seas & loftye moūtains hye

Of Pyrenet the pathes vnknowen to treade.

[Page]Whose great good wyll I kepe, and in his plate

His Verses craue to represent his face.

Vnfolde the trusse therfore and yf the Muse

Be s [...]tted so with this graue Study past

In so short space, or if we seke to chuse

To prynt our actes in safetie at the last

Cease of a whyle this Labor and peruse

These Papers left of suche delyghting taste

And put in prynt these workes of worthy Skyll

So shall we showe the fruytes, of our good wyll.

This Fancie lykte, imagynyng aryght

Of her owne Ioye in hearyng of his Verse

And pleasaunt Style, most pythyly endyght

whose Fame forth blowen, his deds could wel reherse

But for to paynt my name in open sight

with others Stuffe, this wold she fayne reuerse,

And thinkes I should in others Plumes so show

My selfe, to be a seconde Esops Crowe.

But after when the Eye had vewed trhe Lyne.

That Googe had pend and left behynde with me,

when Memorye could all the e [...]fect refygne,

To Reasons Skyll. to weye them as they lye.

with long reherse of tryed Fayth by tyme

Then Fancie soone her Pryde, began to plye

And all receyued muche pleasure to the Mynde

More profytte farre then Fancye had assygnde.

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And Fancie thus her selfe with blushyng face,

Condemned by Dame Reasons dome deuyne

To se thalluryng Style the cumly grace,

The sappye Sence of this his passyng Ryme,

So farre surmountynge her Inuention base,

And hearyng of his frendlynes in syne

whiche Memorye her Storehouse held full fast [...]

Allowed well theyr Iudgements at the laste.

Since euerye Sence did wonted strength reune,

The Blud congeld, recoursed to his place

The wyts benomd brought to theyr propre quue

The Hart opprest with old delighting grace,

Vnburdend nowe and puft with pleasure newe

By takyng of this Booke the vewyng gase

They all at ons Good wyll nowe calde dyon,

To wrest her selfe to quyght these works ad on.

Thus pushte I forth strayghte to the Printet [...] hande

These Eglogs, Souets, Epytaphes of men

Vnto the Readers Eyes for to be skande,

with Prayses suche as is due vnto them

who absent nowe theyr Mayster maye cōmende,

And feade his Fame what soeuer f [...]yleth him,

Gyue Googe therfore his owne deserued Fame,

Giue Blundeston leaue to wysh wel to his nam [...]

¶Finis.

Egloga prima.
Daphnes. Amintas.

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SYth Phebus now begins to flame,

O frende Amintas deare:

And placed hath his gorgeous globe in midste of all the Spheare

And frō yt place doth cast his Beames; where (they that fratres defyne)

Lyes poynt (doo saye) that termed is, ryght Equinoctial lyne.

wheras the Rain doth cause to spring, eche herbe and floure in fyelde

A [...]d forceth ground (y• spoyld of grene Old lye,) newe grene to yelde.

Let shepherds vs yelde also tales, as best becōmes the tyme:

Suche tales as Winter stormes haue stayde in countrey Phets Ryme.

Begyn to synge Amintas thou, for why? thy wyt is best:

And many a laged sawe lies hyd within thine aged brest.

[Page]Ofte haue I heard, of Shephards old, thy fame reported true,

No Herdman liues: but knowes the praise, to olde Amintas due:

B [...]gyn therfore, and I gyue care, for talke doth me delyght,

Go Boye: go dryue the Beasts to fede whyle he his mynde resyght.

Amin.

Thy prayses Da [...]nes are to great, and more for me than meete:

Nor euer I, suche saged sawes, coulde synge in Verses sweete.

And now, to talke of spring time tales my heares to hoare, do growe

Suche tales as these, I tolde in, tyme, when youthfull yeares dyd flowe.

But synce, I can not the denye, thy Fathers loue doth bynde:

In symple Songe I wyll adresse my selfe, to showe my mynde.

Longe hast thou Daphnes me requyred the state of Loue to tell,

For in my youth, I knewe the force, and passions all, full well.

[Page]Nowe Loue therfore I wyll defyne and what it is declare,

which way poore souls it doth entrap and howe it them doth snare.

My Boie, remoue my beasts frō hens and dryue them farther downe,

Vpon the Hylles, let them go feade, that ioyne to yender towne,

O Cupyde kynge of fyerye Loue, ayde thou my syngynge Verse,

And teache me heare the cause & case, Of Louers to reherse,

Direct my tong, in trothe to treade, with Furye fyll my brayne,

That I may able be to tell, the cause of Louers payne.

Opinions diuers coulde I showe, but chiefest of them all,

I wyll declare: and for the rest, with silence leaue I shall.

A seruent Humour, (some do iudge) within the Head doth lye,

Whiche yssuyng forth with poysoned beames doth rou frō eye to eye:

[Page]And taking place abrode in heads, a whyle doth fyrmely rest:

Till Phrensie framde in Fancie fond▪ discends from hed, to brest.

Plato.

And poison strong, frō eies outdrawn do [...]h perce the wretched harte,

And all infectes the bloud aboute, and boyles in euery parte:

Thus: whē the beames, infected hath, the wofull Louers blud:

Then Sences al, do strayght decaye, opprest with Furyes flud.

Then Lybertie withdrawes her self, and Bondage beares the swaye,

Affection blynd then leades the hart, and Wyt, is wownde awaye.

O Daphn [...]s then, the paines appeare, and tormentes all of hell.

Then sekes, the selye wounded soule, the flames for to expell.

But all to late, alas he stryues, for Fancie beares the stroke

And he, must toyle (no helpe there is) in slauysshe seruyle yoke.

[Page]His blud corrupted all within, doth boyle in euery vayne,

Than sekes he howe to sewe for salue that maye redresse his payne.

And when the face, he doth beholde by whiche he shulde haue ayde,

And sees no helpe, thē lookes he long, a [...]d trembleth all afrayde.

And museth at the framed shape, that hath his lyfe in handes:

Nowe fast he flies, aboute the flames, nowe styll amased standes:

Yet Hope relieues, his hurtful Heate and Wyll doth Payne make lyght,

And al the griefes, that then he feeles doth Presence styll requyght.

But when the Lyght absented is, and Beames in hart remayne,

Then flames the Fyre fresh agayne, and newe begyns his Payne.

Then longe he lookes, his losse to se, then sobbes, and syghes abounde,

Then mourneth he, to mys the marke that erst to soone he founde.

[Page]Then shadefull places oute he lookes, and all alone he lyues,

Erylynge Ioye, and myrth from him, hymselfe to waylynge gyues,

And styll his minde theron doth muse and styll, therof he prates,

O Daphnes here I swere to the, no griefe to Louers state.

Yf he but ones beholde the place, where he was wont to mete,

The pleasaunt forme yt hym enflamd, and ioyfull Countnaunce swete.

The place (a wonderous thing I tell) his gryefe augmenteth newe,

Yet styll he sekes the place to se, that moste he shulde esc [...]ewe.

Yf but the name rehearsed be, (a thynge more straunge to heare)

Then Colour cōmes and goes in hast then quaketh he for feare,

The verye name, hath suche a force, that it can dase the mynde,

And make the man amasde to stande, what force hath Loue to bynde?

[Page]Affection none to this is lyke, it doth surmownt them all,

Of grei [...]fes, the greatest greif no doubt is to be Venus thrall,

And therfore, Daphnes nowe beware, for thou art yonge, and fre,

Take heade of vewynge faces longe, for losse of Lybertye,

I shall not nede (I thynke) to byd the, to detest the Cryme,

Of wycked loue, that Ioue did vse, In Ganimedes tyme,

Iupiter.

For rather wolde I (thoo it be muche) that thou shuldest seake the fyre,

Of lawfull Loue, that I haue tolde, than burne wyth suche desyre,

And thus an end, I weryed am, my wynde is olde, and faynt,

Suche matters I, do leaue to suche, as finer farre can paint,

Fetche in the Gote: that goes astraye, and dryue hym to the folde,

My yeares be great I wyl be gone, for spryngtyme nyghts be colde.

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Daphnes

Great thankes to the, for this thy tale Amintas here I gyue:

But neuer can I make amendes to the whilste I do lyue.

Yet for thy paynes (no recompenc [...]) a small rewarde haue here.

A whistle framed longe ago, wherwith my father deare

His ioyfull beasts, was wont to kepe. No Pype for tune so swete

Might shepharde euer yet po [...]ses. (a thynge for the full mete.)

Finis Eglogae primoe.

Egloga secunda.
Dametas.

MY beasts, go fede vpon ye plaine, and let your herdman lye,

Thou seest her mind, & fearst yu nowe, Dametas for to dye?

[Page]Why stayest yu thus? why doste yu stay [...] thy lyfe to longe doth laste:

Accounte this flud, thy fatall graue, syth time of hope is paste.

What meanst thou thus to linger on? thy life wolde fayne departe,

Alas: the wounde doth fester styll, of cursed Cupids darte.

No salue but this, can helpe thy sore, no thynge can moue her minde

She hath decreed, that thou shalt dye, no helpe there is to finde.

Nowe syth there is, no other helpe, nor ought but this to try [...],

Thou seest her mind: why fearste thou than? Dametas for to dye.

Long hast thou serued, & serued true, but all alas, in vayne,

For she thy seruyce, nought estemes, but deales the griefe for gayne.

For thy good wyll, (a gay rewarde) Disdayne, for Loue she gyues,

Thou louest her while thy life doth last, she hates the, wile she liues.

[Page]Thou flamste, when as yu seest her face with Heate of hye desyre,

She flames agayne, but how? (alas) with depe disdaynfull Ite.

The greatest pleasure is to the, to se her voyde of Payne,

The greatest gryefe to her agayne, to se thy Health remayne.

Thou couetste euer her to fynde, she sekes from the to flye,

Thou seest her mynd, why fearst thou than? Dametas for to dye?

Doste thou accounte it best to kepe, thy lyfe in sorowes styll?

Or thynkste thou best it now to lyue, Contrarye to her wyll?

Thynkste thou thy lyfe for to retaine? when she is not content,

Canste thou addicte: thy selfe to lyue? and she to murder bent.

Doste thou entende agayne, to sewe for mercye at her handes?

As soone thou mayst go plow ye rocks, and reape vpon the Sandes.

[Page]Draw nere O mighty Herd of beasts syth no man els is bye,

Your Herdman longe that hathe you kept, Dametas nowe must dye.

Resolue your Brutisshe eies to teares and all togyther crye,

Bewayle the wofull ende of Loue, Dametas nowe must dye.

My pleasaunt Songs, nowe shall you here no more on Mountaines hye,

I leaue you all, I must be gone. Dametas nowe must dye:

To Titirus I you resyne, in Pasture good to lye,

For Titirus shall kepe you thoughe, Dametas nowe must dye.

O cursed Cause, that hath me slayne, My trothe alas to trye,

O Shephardes all, be Wytnesses, Dametas here doth dye.

Finis Eglogae secundoe.

Egloga tertia.
Menalcas. Coridon.

[Page]

A Pleasaunt wether Coridon, and lytte to kepe the fyelde,

This moone hath brought▪ hearst yu the birds what ioyful tunes they yeld,

Loe: how the lustie lambes do course, whom spring time heate doth pricke

Beholde againe, the aged Yewes, with bouncinge leapes do kicke,

Amonst thē all, what ayles thy rāme, to halte so muche behynde,

Some sore mischaūce, hath him be [...]aln or els some griefe of minde,

For wonte he was, of stomacke stoute and courage hye to be,

And looked proude, amongst ye flocke, and none so stoute as he.

Cor.

A great mishap, and griefe of mynde, is him be falne of late,

Which causeth him, against his wyll, to lose his olde estate.

[Page]A lustie flocke hath Titirus, that him Dametas gaue,

Dametas he, that Martir died, whose soule the heaues haue,

And in this flocke, full many Yewes of pleasaunte forme do goe,

with thē a mighty Rāme doth ronne, that workes all Woers woe.

My Rāme, whē he the pleasaūt dames had vewed rounde aboute,

Chose groūde of battayle, with his foe and thought to fyght it oute.

But all to weake, (alas) he was, althoughe his harte was good,

For when his enemye him espied, he rāne with cruell moode.

And with his croked weapon smote, him sore vpon the syde,

A blowe of force, that stayde not there but to the legges dyd glyde.

And almoste laamd the woer quyte. (suche happes in loue there be:)

This is the cause, of all his griefe and waylynge that you se.

[Page]

Men.

Well Coridon let hym go halte, and let vs both go lye,

In yonder busshe of Iuniper, the Beasts shall fede hereby.

A pleasaunt place here is to talke: good Coridon begyn,

And let vs knowe the Townes estate, that thou remaynest in.

Cor.

The Townes estate? Menalcas oh thou makste my harte to grone,

For Vice hath euery place possesse, and Vertue thence is flowne.

Pryde beares her selfe, as Goddesse chiefe and boastes aboue ye Skye,

And Lowlynes an abiecte lyes, with Gentlenes her bye,

Wyt is not ioynde with Symplenes, as she was wont to be,

But sekes the ayde of Arrogance, and craftye Polycie.

Nobylitie begyns to fade, and Carters vp do sprynge,

Then whiche, no greater plague can hap, nor more pernicious thynge.

[Page] Menalcas I haue knowen my selfe, within this thyrtye yeare,

Of Lordes and Auncient Gentelmen a hundreth dwellynge theare,

Of whom we Shephardes had reliefe suche Gentlenes of mynde,

Was placed in theyr noble Hartes, as none is nowe to fynde.

But Hawtynes and proude Disdayne hath nowe the chiefe Estate,

For syr Iohn Straw, & syr Iohn Cur, wyll not degenerate.

And yet, they dare account thē selues to be of Noble bludde.

But Fisshe bred vp, in durtye Pooles, wyll euer stynke of mudde.

I promysse the Menalcas here, I wolde not them enuye.

Yf any spot of Gentlenes, in them I myght espye.

For yf theyr Natures gentell be, thoughe byrth be neuer so base,

Of Gentelmen (for mete it is) they ought haue name and place:

[Page]But whē by byrth, they base are bred, and churlisshe harte retaine,

Though place of gentlem [...]n thei haue yet churles they do remayne.

A prouerbe olde, hath ofte ben hard [...] and nowe full true is tryed:

An Ape, wyll euer be an Ape, thoughe purple garments hyde.

For seldom, wyll the mastye course, the Hare or els the Deare:

But styll, accordynge to his kynde. wyll holde, the hogge by theare.

Vnfitte are dunghill knights to serue the towne, with Speare in fielde:

Nor strange it semes, (a sudain Chop) to leape from whyp, to shielde.

The chiefest man, in all our towne, that beares the greatest swaye,

Is Coridon no kynne to me, a Neteherd thother daye

This Coridon come from the Carte, In honour chiefe doth sytte,

And gouernes vs: because he hath, a Crabbed, Clownish wytte.

[Page]Nowe se the Churlysh Crueltye, that in hys harte remayns.

The selye Sheape y• Shephards good, haue fosterd vp wyth Paynes,

And browght awaye, from Stynkyng dales on pleasant Hylles to feade:

O Cruell Clownish Coridon, O cursed Carlish Seade:

The simple Shepe, constrayned he, theyr Pasture swete to leaue,

And to theyr old corrupted Grasse. enforceth them to cleaue.

Such Shepe, as wold not them obaye but in theyr Pasture byde.

with (cruell flames,) they did cōsume and vex on euery syde.

And wt the shepe, y• Shephardes good, (O hatefull Hounds of Hell,)

They did torment. and dryue thē out, in Places farre to dwell.

There dyed Daphnes for his Shepe, the chiefest of them all.

And fayre Alexis flamde in Fyre, who neuer perysshe shall.

[Page]O Shephards wayle, for Daphnes deth, Alexis hap lament,

And curs the force of cruell hartes, that them to death haue sent.

I, synce I sawe suche synfull syghts, dyd neuer lyke the Towne,

But thought it best to take my sheepe, and dwell vpon the downe.

Wheras I lyue, a pleasaunt lyfe, and free from cruell handes,

I wolde not leaue, the plesaunt fyelde for all the Townysh Landes.

For syth that Pryde, is placed thus, and Vice set vp so hye:

And Crueltie doth rage so sore, and men lyue all awrye:

Thynkste yu? y• God, wil long forbere, his scourge, and plague to sende?

To suche as hym do styll despyse and neuer seke to mende?

Let them be sure he wyll reuenge. when they thynke leaste vpon.

But looke a stormy showre doth ryse, whiche wyll fall heare anone.

[Page] Menalcas best we nowe departe, my Cottage vs shall keepe,

For there is rowme for the, and me, and eke for all our sheepe:

Som Chestnuts haue I there in store with Cheese and pleasaunt whaye,

God sends me Vittayles for my nede, and I synge Care awaye.

¶Finis Egloge tertie.

Egloga quarta.
Melibeus Palemon.

O God, that guyds ye golden Globe, wher shinyng shapes do dwel

O thou ye throwest the thūder thumps from Heauens hye, to Hell,

what wonders workes thy worthynes what meruayles doste thou frame?

What secrete syghts be Subiect sene vnto thy holy name?

A symple Shepharde slayne of late, by foolysshe force of Loue,

[Page]That had not Grace such fancies fond and Flames for to remoue,

Appeared late, before myne eies, (Alas I feare to speake,)

Not as he here was wont to lyue, whyle Gryefe hym none did breake.

But all in Blacke, he clothed came an vgly syght to se:

As they that for theyr due Desartes. with Paynes tormented be,

My shepe for feare amased ran, and fled from Hyll to Dale,

And I alone remayned there, with countenaunce wan and pale.

O Lorde (quoth I,) what meanes this thyng is this Alexis spryght?

Or is it Daphnes soule that showes? to me this dredfull syght.

Or comes some Feend of Hell abrode? with feare men to torment?

Megera this? or [...]isiphon? Or is Alecto sent?

what soeuer thou art, yt thus dost com! Ghoost, Hagge, or Fende of Hell:

[Page]I the cōmaunde by hym that lyues, thy name and case to tell.

With this, a stynkyng smoke I sawe, from out his mouth to flye,

And wt that same, his voyce did sound. None of them all am I.

But ons thy frende (O oldibe [...]) Dametas was my name,

Dametas I, that slewe my selfe, by force of foolysshe flame.

Dametas I, that dotynge dyed, In fyre of vnkynde Loue:

Dametas I, whom Deiop [...]y, dyd cause suche ende to proue,

The same Dametas here I com, by lyceus vnto the:

For to declare the wofull state, that happens now to me.

(O Melibe [...]) take hede of Loue, of me Example take,

That slewe my selfe, and liue in Hell, for Deiopeias sake.

I thought that Deth shuld me release from paynes and dolefull woe,

[Page]But nowe (alas) the trothe is tryed, I fynde it nothynge soe,

For looke what Payne & gryefe I felt when I lyued heare afore:

With those I nowe tormented ant, and with ten thousand more.

I meane not that I burne in loue, suche foolysh toyes begon,

But Gryefes in nombre haue I lyke and many more vpon.

O cursed Loue, (what shulde I saye,) that brought me fyrste to Payne,

Well, myght I ones despyse thy lore, but nowe (alas) in vayne.

With fond Affection, I dyd flame, whiche nowe I moste repent,

But all to late (alas) I wayle, syth hope of Grace is spent.

The fickle fadynge forme, and face, that ones so muche I fowght,

Hath made me lose the Skyes aboue, and me to Hell hath browght.

Why had I Reason delt to me? and coulde not Reason vse.

[Page]Why gaue I, Brydle to my wyll? when I myght well refuse.

A wycked Wyll, in dede it was, that blynded so my syght,

That made me on such fadyng Duste, to set my whole Delyght.

A fonde Affection lead me then, When I for God dyd place,

A Creature, cause of all my Care, a flessh ye fletynge face,

A woman Waue of Wretchednes, a Paterne pylde of Pryde,

A Mate of Myschiefe and Distresse, for whom (a Foole) I dyed.

Thus whyle he spake, I sawe me thought of Hell an vglye Fende,

With lothsome Clawes, hym for to close and forced him there to ende.

And with this same, (O M [...]l [...]bey,) farewell, farewell (quoth he.)

Eschewe the Blase of feruent flames, Example take of me.

My Harte with this began to rent, and all amasde I stoode.

[Page]O lord (quoth I) what flames be these what Rage, what Furyes woode?

Doth Loue procure, to wretched men what Bondage doth it brynge?

Paine here: & Paine in lyfe to come. (O dolefull, dredefull thynge.)

I quake to heare, this Storye tolde, and Melibei I fainte,

For sure I thought Dametas had, ben placed lyke a Saynte.

I thought that cruel Charons Boate, had myste of hym her frayght,

And through his deth, he mounted had to starres and Heauens strayght.

Howe valiantly dyd he despyse, his lyfe in Bondage ledde?

And sekyng Deth with courage hye, from Loue and Ladye fledde.

And is he thus rewarded nowe? The ground be cursed than,

That fosterde vp, so fayre a face that loste so good a Man.

¶Finis Egloge quarte.

Egloga quinta.
Mopsus. Agon.

[Page]

SOm doleful thing there is at hand thy countenaunce doth declare,

Thy face good Agon voide of blud thine eies amased stare:

I se thy teares, howe they do still, disclose thy secrete mynde,

Hath Fortune fr [...]wned late on the? Hath Cupide ben vnkinde.

A pyteous thinge to be bewaylde a desperate Acte of Loue,

Agon.

(O Destenies) suche cruell broyles, Howe haue you power to moue?

Here lyued a Ladye fayre of late, that Claudia men dyd call:

Of goodly forme, yea suche a one, as farre surmounted all.

The stately Dames, yt in this Courte, to showe them selues do lye,

There was not one in all the Crewe: that coulde come Claudia nye.

[Page]A worthy Knyght dyd loue her longe, and for her sake dyd feale,

The panges of Loue. that happen styl by frownyng Fortunes wheale,

He had a Page, Valeri [...] named, whom so muche he dyd truste,

That all the secrets of his Hart, to hym declare he muste.

And made hym all the onely meanes, to sue for his redresse,

And to entreate for grace to her, that caused his distresse.

She whan as fyrst she saw his page was strayght with hym in Loue,

That nothynge coulde Valeri [...] fare, from Claudias mynde remoue.

By hym was Faustus often harde, by hym his sutes toke place,

By hym he often dyd aspyre, to se his Ladyes face.

This passed well, tyll at the length, Vale [...]us sore dyd sewe▪

With many teares besechynge her, his Maysters gryefe to rewe.

[Page]And tolde her that yf she wolde not release, his Maysters payne,

He neuer wolde attempte her more, nor se her ones agayne.

She then with mased countnaunce there and teares ye gushing fell,

Astonyed answerde thus, loe nowe, alas I se to well.

Howe longe I haue deceyued ben, by the Valerius heare,

I neuer yet beleued before, nor tyll this tyme dyd feare,

That thou dydste for thy Mayster li [...]e but onely for my sake.

And for my syght, I euer thought, thou dydste thy trauayle take.

But nowe I se the contrarye, thou nothynge carste for me,

Synce fyrst thou knewste, the fyerye flames that I haue felte by the.

O Lorde howe yll, thou doste requyte that I for the haue done,

I curse the time, that frendshyp fyrst, to showe, I haue begon.

[Page]O lorde I the beseche let me, in tyme reuenged be:

And let hym knowe that he hath synd, in this misusynge me.

I can not thynke, but Fortune once, shall the rewarde for all,

And vengeaunce due for thy deserts, in tyme shall on the fall.

And tell thy maister Faustus nowe, yf he wolde haue me lyue:

That neuer more he sewe to me, this aunswere laste I gyue:

And thou o Traytour vyle, and enmye to my lyfe,

Absent thy selfe from out my syght, procure no greater stryfe,

Synce yt these teares, had neuer force to moue thy stoneye harte,

Let neuer these my weryed eyes, se the no more. Departe.

This sayde, in haste she hieth in, and there doth vengeaunce call,

And strake her self, with cruel knyfe, and bluddye downe doth fall.

[Page]This dolfull chaūce, whā Paustus heard lamentynge lowde he cryes,

And teares his heare and doth accuse, the vniust and cruell Skies.

And in this ragynge moode awaye, he stealeth oute alone,

And gone he is: no mā knowes w [...]ere eche man doth for hym mone.

Valerius whan he doth perceyue, his Mayster to be gone:

He weepes & wailes, in piteous plight and forth he ronnes anone.

No Man knowes where, he is becom, some saye the wooddes he tooke,

Intendynge there to ende his lyfe, on no Man more to looke:

The Courte lamentes, the Princesse eke her selfe doth weepe for woe,

Loe, Faustus fled, and Claudia deade.

Valerius vanysshed soe.

¶Finis Egloge quinte.

Egloga sexta.
Felix. Faustus.

[Page]

Felix.

O Faustus, whom aboue the rest, of Shephardes here that kepe,

Vpon these holts, ye nōbre great of waightye fleesed shepe:

I euer haue estemde: and coūted eke, the chiefest Frende of all,

What great mishap, what scourge of minde or griefe hath the befall?

That hath the brought ī such a plight farre from thy wonted guyse?

What meanes this coūtenaūce all besprēt wt teres? these wretched eies

This mournynge looke, this Vesture sad this wrethe of Wyllow tree,

(Vnhappy man) why doste thou wepe what chaunce hath altered the?

Tell tell, me soone, I am thy frende, Disclose to me thy gryefe,

Be not afrayde, for frendes do serue, to gyue theyr Frendes relyefe.

[Page]The wofull cause of all my hurte, good Felix longe agoe,

Faustus.

Thou knewst full well: I nede not now by wordes to double woe,

Synce that (alas) all hope is past synce gryefe, and I am one,

And synce the Ladye of my lyfe, (my faute) I haue forgone,

What woldst yu haue me do (oh frend?) to Ioye? in suche dystres?

Naye pleasures quyte I banish here, and yelde to Heuynes,

Let gryefes torment me euermore, let neuer Cares awaye.

Let neuer Fortune turne her wheale to gyue me blysfull daye.

Loue hath me scourged: I am content lament not thou my state.

Let spyght on me take vengeaunce nowe let me be torne with hate.

Let her enioye, her happye lyfe, a Flowre of golden hewe,

That closeth when the Son doth set, and spreads with Phebus newe.

A Marygolde.

[Page]Syth frō my Garlande now is falne, this famouse Flowre swete:

Let Wyllows wynde aboute my hed, (a Wrethe for Wretches mete)

Felix.

Fye Faustus, let not Fancie fonde, in the beare suche a swaye,

Expell Affections from thy mynde, and dryue them quyght awaye.

Embrace thine Auncient Lybertie, let Bondage vyle be fled:

Let Reason rule, thy crased Brayne, place Wyt, in Folies steade.

Synce she is gone, what remedye? why shuldest thou so lament?

Wilt thou destroy thy self with tears and she to pleasures bent?

Gyue eare to me, and I wyll showe the remedies for Loue

That I haue learned longe agoe: and in my youth dyd proue.

Such remedies as soone shall quenche the flames of Cupids Fyre,

Suche remedies as shall delaye, the Rage of fonde Desyre.

[Page]For Faustus yf thou folow styll, the blynded God to please,

And wylt not seke, by Reasons Rule, to purchase thyne owne ease,

Long canst thou not thy frends enioy but byd them all farewell.

And leaue thy lyfe, and giue thy soule to depest fluds of Hell.

Leaue of therfore, betymes and let Affection beare no swaye,

And now at fyrst the Fyre quench before it further straye,

Eche thyng is easely made to obaye, whyle it is yong and grene,

The tender twyg, that now doth bend at length refuseth cleane.

The feruent Fyre, that flamyng fyrst, may lytell water drenche,

When as it hath obtayned tyme, whole Ryuers can not quenche:

Forsake the Town, (my Faustus deare) and dwell, vpon this playne,

And tyme shall heale, thy festryng woūd & Absence banysh Payne.

[Page]Aboue all thynges fly Idlenes, For this doth dowble strength,

To Louers flams, & makes thē rage, tyl all be lost at length,

Here in thes felds, are pleasaūt things to occupye thy brayn,

Be hold: how spryng reuyues agayn, that winter late had slayne,

Behold: the plesaunt Hylles adournd, with dyuers colours fayre,

Geue eare to Scillas lusty songes, reioysynge in the ayr,

What pleasure cāst thou more desyre, then here is for to se:

Thy lusty yewes, with many a lam, Lo: whear they wayt on the,

Thynke not vpon that cursed face, that makes the thus her slaue

But well regard the pleasaunt lyfe, that here thou seest me haue,

Whan I long tyme a go, did feale, the flames of Cupids fyre,

These meanes Lo than I practised, to cure my fond desyre.

[Page]I fyrst wayed with my selfe, How fond a thyng it seamd,

To let my heart lye there in chaynes, where I was nought esteamd.

And how with flames I burnt for her, that passed nought for me,

And how, these eyes encreast my harmes that fyrst her face did se,

With pensyfe heart full fraight with thoughts, I fled frō thence away,

And though that Loue bad tourne my steppes, yet wold I neuer stay,

But from that foule infectyue ayer, wher first I tooke my sore,

I hyed in hast, and shund the place, to se for euer more.

Eache letter that I had receyued from her, I cast away,

And tokens all, I threw them down, to my no small dysmay.

Then busyed I my selfe in thyngs that myght me moste delyght,

And sought the chiefst means I could, to helpe my weryed spryght.

[Page]Somtyme I wold behold the fyelds, and Hylles that thou doste se,

Somtime I wold betraye the Byrds, that lyght on lymed tree,

Especially in Shepstare tyme, when thicke in flocks they flye,

One wold I take, and to her Leg, a lymed Lyne wold tye,

And where ye slock flew thickest, there I wold her cast awaye,

She strayght vnto the rest wold hye, amongst her Mates to playe.

And preasyng in the mydste of them, with Lyne and Lyme, and all,

With cleuyng wyngs, entangled fast they downe togyther fall.

Somtyme I wold the lytel Fysh: with bayted Hooke beguyle:

Somtyme the craftye Fore I wold, deceyue for all his wyle:

Somtyme the Wolfe, I wold pursue, somtyme the fomyng Boore:

And whan with labour all the daye, my weryed Lyms were soore.

[Page]Thā rest & slepe I straightway sought no Dreames dyd me afraye:

Tormented nought with care, I past the lyngryng nyght awaye.

And thus I cleane forgot: in tyme, the dotyng Dayes I sawe,

And freed my self, to my great Ioye, from Yoke of Louers Lawe.

More of this same, I wyll the tell, the next tyme here we mete,

And strōger Medycines wyll I gyue, to purge that Venym swete.

Beholde the Daye is slypt awaye, and Starres do fast appeare,

Loe where Calicto Virgin ones, doth shyne in Skies so cleare.

Loe where olde Ceph [...]us walks about, with twynyng Serpent bye,

We wyll no lenger heare abyde, But hence wyll homwarde hye.

Finis Eglogae sextoe.

Egloga septima.
Siluanus. Sirenus. Seluagla.

[Page]

[Page]

SIrenus Shephard good and thou, that hast yll lucke in loue,

The cause of al my hurt by whom my sutes could neuer proue.

God neuer let that I shuld seeke, to be reuenged of the,

For whan I might haue ben with case, yet wold not suffer me.

The Loue that I Duerda bare, on the to showe my Spyte:

On the in whom my Ladye fayre, had once her whole delyght,

If thy myshaps do not me greue, my mischiefes neuer ende,

Thynke not sirenus that bycause, Diana was thy frend,

I beare the worser wyl assure thy self so base my loue neuer semde

That onely I shuld fauour her. but all that she estemde.

[Page]

Siren.

Thou eyther art siluanus borne, Example for to gyue,

To vs that know not how, whan Fortune frownes to lyue,

Or els hath Nature placed in the so strong and stoute a mynde.

Suffysynge not, thyne yls alone to beare, but meanes to fynde,

That may the Griefes of others help, I se thou art so bent,

That Fortune can the not amase, for all her mysciefes ment,

I promys the siluanus heare, tyme playne in the doth show,

How dayly she dis [...]ouers things, that erst dyd men not know.

I can not beare the Gryefes I feale, my force is all to faynt,

I neuer could as thou canst stynt, the teares of my complaynt.

Diana hath procured the paynes, that I shall neuer ende,

When fyrst she falst her troth to me, she kyld a faythfull frende.

[Page]I meruayle how she could so soone, put the out of her mind,

Siluan.

I well remembre synce thou wents [...]e alone I dyd her fynd.

In place that sorow semde to shape, where no man stood her nye,

But onely (I vnhappy wretche,) that herd her wofull crye,

And this with teares alowde she sayd, O wretche in yll tyme borne.

What chaūce hast thou? that thus thou hast Sirenus swete forlorne.

Gyue ouer pleasures now, Let neuer Ioye the please,

Seke all the cruell meanes thou canst that may thy hart dysease.

Whan thou doste hym forget I wysh, all mischifes on the lyght,

And after death, the Fendes of Hell, torment thy lyuyng spryght.

What man wold here beleue? that she that thus could speake,

Siren.

In so shorte tyme as I haue bene awaye. wolde promys breake.

[Page]O stedfastnes and Constancy, how seldome are you founde:

In womens harts to haue your seats, Or long abydyng ground?

Who looke how much more earnest they, at fyrst theyr hearts do set,

So much more sooner euer more, where late they loued, forget:

Full well could euer I beleue, all women gylty of this:

Saue her alone, in whom I iudge, neuer nature wrought amis:

But sins her maryage how she speeds Siluanus I pray the tell?

Siluan.

Some say she lykes it very ill, and I beleue it well:

For Delius he that hath her now, although he welthy be,

Is but a lout and hath in hym, no hansome qualytie:

For as for all, suche shynges wherin, we Shepeheardes haue delyght,

As in Quaiting, Leaping, Singing or to sound a Bagpype ryght:

[Page]In all these thinges he is but an Asse, and nothynge do he can,

They saye tys quallities but tush, Its ryches makes a man:

What woman is that y• cōmeth here, Siluanus canst thou tell?

Siren.

Its one hath sped as well in Loue, as we, I knowe her well:

Siluan.

She is one of fayre Guerdas frendes, who keeps her beasts below,

Not far from hence bi her thou maist, Dianas State wel know.

She loued hear a Shephearde cald, Alanius longe a go:

Who fauers one ysmenia now, the cause of al her wo:

No place so fyt for the as this, Lo heare Siluanus stands,

Siluag.

Who hath receaued lyke luck to thine at cruel Fortunes hands,

This company besemes the well, Fayr Shepheards both good deane,

To the Seluagina eke of Hope, whom Loue hath spoyled cleane:

Silua.

[Page]A thousande better dayes I wysh, than thou hast had before,

Seluag.

At length may better Fortune fall, For worse can not be more.

To truste the fayned words of men, Loe, thus poore womens speeds,

Siluan.

And men do smarte not through your words but your vnconstant deeds.

For you whan earnestlyest you loue, no thyng can chaunce so lyght.

But yf a toye com in your Brayne, your mynde is altered quyght.

If we but ones, absent our selues, the shortest tyme we maye,

So muche vnconstant is your minds Loue soreth strayght awaye,

Example take Sire [...]us here, whom once Diana lovd,

As all we know, and looke how soone her mynd is now removd:

No, no, there is not one of you, that constant can remayne:

Siluag.

You iudge but of malicious hart, and of a Ialouse brayne.

[Page]All thyngs you do your selues esteme, and men must beare no blame.

Of your dissemblyng noughty deeds, we women beare the shame.

Fayre Damesell yf you can perceyue Siluanus true doth saye

Siren.

There is not one amongst you all, but doth from reason straye.

What is the cause that women thus? in theyr vnconstancye,

Do cast a man from hyest hap, to deepest myserye?

Its nothyng els, I you assure, but that you know not well,

What thing is loue, & what you haue, in hand you can not tell.

Your symple wyts are all to weake, Vnfayned loue to know,

And therof doth forgetfulnes, in you so shortly grow.

Si [...]enus iudge not so of vs, our wyts be not so base,

S [...]luag.

But that we know as well as you, whats what in euery case.

[Page]And women eke, there are ynow that could yf they were brought

Teache men to lyue, & more to loue, yf loue myght well be tought,

And for all this, yet do I thynke, no thyng can worser be.

Than womens state. it is the worst, I thynke of eche degree.

For yf they show but gentle words you thynke for loue they dye.

And yf they speake not whan you list, than strayght you say, they are hye.

And that they ar, disdainfull Dames, and yf they chaunce to talke.

Thā cownt you thē for chatring Pies whose tongs must alwayes walke.

And yf perhaps they do forbeare, and Sylence chaunce to keepe,

Than tush, she is not for company, she is but a symple sheepe.

And yf they beare good wyll to one, thē strayght they are iudged nought

And yf yll name to shun they leaue, Vnconstant they are thought.

[Page]Who nowe can please these Ialouse heads, the faute is all in you,

For women neuer wold chaūge theyr minds yf men wold styll be true,

To this, I well could answere you, but tyme doth byd me staye,

Siren.

And women must the last worde haue no man may say them naye.

Passe ouer this, and let vs here, what lucke you haue had in loue,

And showe yf euer loue of man, your constaunt hart could moue.

No fytter place can be than this, here maye you safely rest,

Thus syttyng here, declare at large, the secretes of your brest.

Naye: lenger here we maye not byde, but home we must awaye,

Siluag.

Loe how the Son denies his Beames depriuyng vs of daye.

Finis Egloge septime.

Egloga octaua.
Coridon. Cornix:

[Page]

NOw ragethe Titan fyerce aboue his Beames on earth do beate.

Whose hote reflection, maks vs an ouer feruent heate:

With fyery Dog, he forward flames feale hote Agues vp he dryues:

And sends them downe, with boylyng blud to shorten Mysers lyues.

Loe, how the beasts, lyes vnder trees how all thyng seekes the shade,

O blessed God, that some defence, for euery hurte hast made,

Beholde this pleasaunte Brodeleaued Be [...]ch & springing foūtain cleare,

Heare shade ynough, here water cold com Cornix rest we here,

And let vs songs begyn to syng, our purs and harts be lyght.

We fere not we, the tomblyng world we breake no sleaps by nyght.

[Page]Both place and tyme my Coridon exhorteth me to synge,

Cornix:

Not of the wretched Louers lyues, but of the immortall kynge.

Who gyues vs pasture for our beasts and blesseth our encrease:

By whom, while other cark and toyle we lyue at home with ease.

Who keepes vs down, from climyng hye wher honour breeds debate,

And here hath graunted vs to lyue in symple Shephards state,

A lyfe that sure doth fare exceade, eche other kynd of lyfe:

O happy state, that doth content, How farre be we from stryfe?

Of hym therfore, me lyst to synge, and of no wanton toyes,

For hym to loue, and hym to prayse, surmounts all other Ioyes.

O Shephards leaue Cupidoes Camp, the ende wherof is vyle,

Remoue Dame Venus from your eies and harken here a whyle.

[Page]A God there is, that guyds the Globe, and framde the fyckle Spheare,

And placed hath, the Starres aboue, that we do gase on here,

By whō we lyue, (vnthākful beasts) by whom we haue our health,

By whom we gayne our happy states by whom we get our wealth.

A God: that sends vs that we nede, a God: that vs defends.

A God: from whom the Angels hye, on mortall men attends.

A God: of suche a Clemencie, that who so hym doth loue

Shall here be sure to rest a whyle, and alwayes rest aboue.

But we, for hym do lytell care, His Heasts we nought esteme,

But hunt for thyngs that he doth hate most pleasaunt those do seme,

(Vnthankfull mysers) what do we? what meane we thus to straye?

From suche a God, so mercyfull, to walke a worser waye?

[Page]Maye nought his benefyts procure? maye nought his mercyes moue?

Maye nothynge bynde, but nedes we must? gyue hate to hym for loue?

O happy (ten tymes) is the man, (a Byrde full rare to fynde)

That loueth God with all his hart, and kepes his lawes in mynde.

He shalbe blest in all his works, and safe in euery tyme,

He shall swete quietnes enioye, whyle other smarte for Cryme.

The threatnyng chaūces of the world shall neuer hym annoye,

Whē Fortune frowns on foolish men he shalbe sure to ioye.

For why? the Aungels of the Lorde, shall hym defende alwayes,

And set hym free, at euery harmes, and hurts at all assayes.

Euen he that kept the Prophet safe, from mouthes of Lyons wylde,

Dauid.

And he that once preserued in Flags, the sely suckyng Chylde,

Moses.

[Page]

Elias.

The God that fed, by Rauens Byll, the Teacher of his worde,

Shall [...]ym (no doubt) in safetie kepe▪ from Famyn, Fyre, and Sworde.

Not he, whom Poets old haue faynd, to lyue in Heauen hye,

Iupiter.

Embracyng Boyes: (O fylthy thyng) in beastly Lecherye.

Iuno.

Nor Iu [...] she: (that wrinkled Iade,) that Quene of Skyes is calde,

Saturn.

Nor soleyn Sat [...]n Churlysh Chuffe▪ with Scalpe of Cancre bald.

Mars.

Nor fumyng Foole, with fyery face, that moues the fyghters mynd.

Venus.

Cupido.

Nor Venus she: (that wanton wench) that guyds the Shoter blynd.

Can the defende: as God wyll do, for they were synfull fooles,

N [...]merus.

Whō fyrst ye blynd hye wytted Grek [...] brought in to wyse mens Scooles.

No none of these, but God alone, ou [...]ht worsh [...]p for to [...]aue,

For they for all theyr Honour ones, rest ye tin stynkyng Graue.

[Page]Heare hast thou heard, the happy state of them that lyue in feare,

Of God▪ & loue hym best: now lyst, his foes reward to heare,

And fyrst know thou that euery man, that from this God doth goe,

And folows lust, hym he acountes, to be his deadly foe,

This myghty Kyng of whom we talk, as he is mercyfull,

And suffers long, reuengyng slow, So when we be thus dull,

That we wyl not perceaue in tyme, the goodnes of his grace,

His fauour straight, he doth withdraw and tournes a way his face.

And to him selfe then doth he say, How long shall I permit

These stubburne beastes, for to rebell? and shall I loue them yet,

That hate me thus? or haue I nede theyr louynge mynds to craue?

I aske no more but onely loue, and that I can not haue.

[Page]Well, wel, I wil not care for them, that thus do me dyspyse,

Let them go lyue, euen as they lyst, I turne awaye myne eyes.

When God hath thus sayd to him self, Then doth the braynlesse foole,

Cast Brydle of, and out he runnes, neglectynge vertues Scoole,

Then doth the Deuyl geue him lyne, and let him rune at large,

And Pleasure makes his Mariner, to row in vyces Barge,

Then vp the Sayles of wilfulnes, he hoyses hie in hast,

And fond Affection blowes hym forth, a wynd that Pluto plast,

Then cuttes he swyft, the seas of sin, and through the Chanell deape,

With Ioyful mynd, he fleets a pace, whom Pleasure bryngs a sleape,

Then who so happy thinks hym selfe? who dreames of ioy but he?

Tush, tush, sayth he: to thynk of God, Inage suffiseth me,

[Page]Now wil I passe my pleasaunt youth, Such toyes becomes this age,

And God shall followe me sayth he, I wyll not be his page,

I wyll be prowd, and looke a loft, I wyll my body decke,

With costly clothes, aboue my state who then dare gyue me che [...]ke?

Garments som time, so gard a knaue, that he dare mate a Knyght,

Coridon.

Yet haue I sene a Ne [...] in hemp, For Checking often lyght.

The Peacocks plume shal not me pas that nature finely framde

Cornix.

For coulord sylkes shal set me fourth, that nature shalbe shamde,

My Sworde shal get me valiant fame, I wyll be Mars out ryght,

And Mars you know, must Venus haue, to recreate his spryght.

I wyll oppresse the symple knaue, shall Saues be sawsy now?

Nay: I wyll teache the nedy Dogges, with Cappe to crowche, & bow.

[Page]Thus fareth he, and thus he lyues, no whyt estemyng God,

In health, in ioy, and lustynes, free from the smartyng Rod,

But in the miost of all his myrth, whyle he su [...]pecteth least,

His happy chaunce, begyns to chaūge and else his fl [...]etynge feast,

For d [...]ath (that old deuouryng Wolf) whom goo [...] men nothyng feare,

Coms saylyng fast, t [...] Galley blacke, and whan he spy [...]s hym neare.

Doth boorde hym strayght, & grapels fast and than begy [...]s the fyght.

In ryot leaps, as Captayne chiefe, and from the Mayn mast ryght,

He downward com [...], and surfet than, assayleth by and by,

Then vyle diseases forward shoues, with paynes and gryefe therby,

Lyfe stands aloft, and fyghteth hard, but pleasure all agaste.

Doth leaue his ore, and out he flyes then death approcheth fast.

[Page]And giues the charge so sore, ye needs must lyfe begyn to flye,

Thē farewell all. The wretched man with Caryen Corse doth lye,

Whō Deth hymself flyngs ouer bord, amyd the Seas of syn,

The place wher late, he swetly swam now lyes he drowned in.

Contynuall torment hym awaytes, (a Monster vyle to tell)

That was begot of Due Desert, and raygneth now in Hell,

With gredy mouth he alwayes fe [...]ds vpon the Syndrownd soule,

Whose gredy Pawes, do neuer ceas, in synfull fluds to prowle.

Loe. [...] his the ende, of euery suche as here lyues lustylye

Necglectyng God thou seest. in vyce, [...]o lyue. in syn do dye.

What shuld I speke of al theyr harms blud that happens them in lyfe?

Theyr Cōscience prickt, theyr barren theyr toyle, theyr grief, theyr stryfe,

[Page]With mischiefes heaped many a one, which they do neuer trye,

That Lou [...] & Feare the myghty God, that rules and raynes on hye,

To long it we are, to make discourse, and Phebus downe descends,

And in the Clowdes his beames doth hyde which tempest sure portends,

Looke how the beastes begin to sling, and cast theyr heades on hye,

The Hear on shew mountes aboue the Clouds ye Crowes ech wher do cry

All this showes rayn, tyme byds vs go com Coridon awaye,

Take vp thy Staffe, fetch ī thy beasts let vs go whyle we maye.

Coridon:

Cornix agreed, go thou before, you cursed Bull of myne

I must go dryue: he neuer bydes, among my Fathers Kyne.

Finis Egluge octaue.

¶An Epytaphe of the Lorde Sheffeldes death.

[Page]

WHen Brutysh broyle, and rage of war in Clownysh harts began

When Tigres stoute, in Tāners bonde vnmusled all they ran,

The Noble Sheffeyld Lord by byrth and of a courage good,

By clubbish hāds, of crabbed Clowns there spent his Noble blud.

His noble byrth auayled not, his honor all was vayne,

Amyd the prease, of Mast ye Curres, the valyant Lorde was slayue.

And after suche a sorte (O ruth,) that who can teares suppresse.

To thynke ye Dunghyll Dogs shuld dawnt the Floure of worthynes.

Whyle as the rauenyng Wolues he prayed his gylteles lyfe to saue.

A bluddy Butcher byg and blunt, a vyle vnweldy knaue

[Page]With beastly blow of boysterous byll at hym (O Lorde) let dryue,

And cleste his head, and sayd therwith shalt thou be lefte alyue?

O Lorde that I had present ben, and Hectors force withall,

Before that from his Carlysh hands, the cruell Byll dyd fall.

Then shulde that peasaunt vyle haue felt the clap vpon his Crowne,

That shuld haue dazed his dogged hart from dryuyng Lordes adowne.

Then shuld my hands haue saued thy lyfe good Lord whō deare I loued

Then shuld my hart in doutfull case, full well to the ben proued,

But all in vayne thy death I wayle, thy Corps in earth doth lye.

Thy kyng and Countrey for to serue thou dydste not feare to dye.

Farewel good Lord, thy deth bewayle all suche as well the knewe,

And euerye man laments thy case: and Googe thy death doth rewe.

¶An Epytaphe of M. Shelley slayne at Musselbroughe.

[Page]

VVan Mars had moued mortall hate and forced sumysh heate

And hye Bellona had decreed, to syt with Sworde in Seate,

The Scottes vntrue with fyghtynge hande, theyr promys to denye,

Assembled fast, & England thought, the trothe with them to trye.

Chose Musclebroughe theyr fyghtynge place amyd those barrayne fyelds

Theyr breche of fayth, there not to try with trothe, but trotheles Shyeldes

In battayle braue, and Armye strong Encamped soore they laye,

Ten Scottes to one (a dredeful thyng a dolfull fyghtyng daye.)

That Englysh men were all agaste, with quakyng staues in hande.

To se theyr enemyes lye so neare, and death with them to stande.

[Page]No other remedye there was, but fyght it out or flye.

And who shuld fyrst the Onset gyue, was sure therin to dye.

Thus al dismayde, and wrapt in feare with doutfull mynde they stande,

If best it be, with flyght of foote, to stryue or fyght of hande.

Tyll at the length, a Captayn stoute. with hawtye mynde gan speake.

O Towards all, and maydly men of Courage faynt and weake,

Vnworthye com of Brutus race, is this your manhode gon,

And is there none you Dastardes all. that dare them set vpon.

Then Shelley all inflamed with heate with heate of valyaunt mynde,

No Towardes we, nor maydly men, ne yet of Dastards kynde,

I wold you wyste dyd euer com, but dare be bolde to trye,

Our manhode heare, thoughe nought appeare but deth to all mens eye

[Page]And with these wordes (O noble hart) no longer there he stayde,

But forth before them all he sprang as one no whyt dismayed

With charged staffe on fomyng horse his Spurres with heeles he strykes,

And forewarde ronnes with swyftye race, among the mortall Pykes

And in this race with famous ende, to do his Countrey good,

Gaue Onset fyrst vpon his Foes, and lost his vitall blud.

¶Finis.

¶An Epytaphe of Maister Thomas Phayre.

THe hawtye verse, ye Maro wrote made Rome to wonder mu [...]he

And meruayle none for why the Style and waightynes was suche,

[Page]That all men iudged Parnassus Mownt had clefte her selfe in twayne,

And brought forth one, that seemd to drop from out Minerua [...]s brayne.

But wonder more, maye Bryttayne great wher Phayre dyd florysh late,

And barreyne tong with swete accord reduced to suche estate:

That Virgils verse hath greater grace in forrayne foote obtaynde,

Than in his own. who whilst he lyued eche other Poets stayned·

The Noble H. Hawarde once, that raught eternall fame,

With mighty Style, did bryng a pece of Virgils worke in frame,

And Grimaold gaue the lyke attempt, and D [...]uglas wan the Ball,

whose famouse wyt in Scottysh ryme had made an ende of all.

But all these same dyd Phayre excell, I dare presume to wryte,

As muche as doth Appoll [...]es Beames, the dymmest Starre in lyght.

[Page]The enuyous fates (O pytie great, had great disdayne to se,

That vs amongst there shuld remayn so fyne a wyt as he,

And in the mydst of all his toyle, dyd force hym hence to wende,

And leaue a Worke vnperfyt so, that neuer man shall ende.

¶An Epytaphe of the Death of Nicolas Grimaold.

BEholde this fletyng world how al things fade

Howe euery thyng doth passe and we are awaye,

Eche state of lyfe, by comon course and trade,

Abydes no tyme, but hath a passyng daye.

For looke as lyfe, that pleasaūt Dame hath brought,

[Page]Tht pelasaunt yeares, and dayes of lustynes,

So Death our Foe, consumeth all to nought,

Enuyeng thefe, with Darte doth vs oppresse,

And that whiche is, the greatest gryfe of all,

The gredye Grype, doth no estate respect,

But wher he comes, he makes them down to fall,

Ne stayes he at, the hie sharpe wytted sect.

For yf that wytt, or worthy Eloquens,

Or learnyng deape, coulde moue hym to forbeare,

O Grima [...]ld then, thou hadste not yet gon hence

But heare hadest sene, full many an aged yeare.

Ne had the Muses loste so fyne a Floure,

[Page]Nor had Minerua wept to leaue the so,

If wysdome myght haue fled the fatall howre,

Thou hadste not yet ben suffred for to go,

A thousande doltysh Geese we myght haue sparde,

A thousande wytles heads, death might haue found

And taken them, for whom no man had carde,

And layde them lowe, in deepe obliuious grounde,

But Fortune fauours Fooles as old men saye

And lets them lyue, and take the wyse awaye.

¶Finis.

¶To Mayster Alexander Nowell.

[Page]

THe Muses ioye, and well they may to se,

So well theyr laboure com to good successe,

That they sustayned long agoe in the,

Minerua smyles, Phebus can do no lesse,

But ouer all, they chyefly do reioyse,

That leauyng thyngs, which are but fond and vayne,

Thou dyddest chuse, (O good and happy choyse)

In sacred Scoles, thy luckye yeares to trayne,

By whiche thou hast obtaynde (O happy thyng)

To learne to lyue, whyle other wander wyde,

[Page]And by thy lyfe, to please the immortall kyng,

Then whiche so good, nothyng can be applyed,

Lawe gyues the gayne, and Physycke fyls the Purse,

Promotions hye, gyues Artes to many one,

But this is it, by whiche we scape the Curse,

And haue the blys of God, when we be gone.

Is this but onely Scriptures for to reade?

No, no. Not talke, but lyfe gyues this in deade.

¶To Doctor Bale.

GOod aged Bale: that with thy hoary heares

Doste yet persyste, to turne the paynefull Booke,

[Page]O happye man, that hast obtaynde suche yeares,

And leavst not yet, on Papers pale to looke,

Gyue ouer now to beate thy weryed brayns,

And rest thy Pen that long hath laboured soore

For aged men vnfyt sure is suche paine,

And the beseems to laboure now no more,

But thou I thynke Don Platoes part will playe

With Booke in hand, to haue thy dyeng daye.

¶Finis.

¶To M. Edwarde Cobham.

OLde Socrates, whose wysdome dyd excell,

And past the reache, of wysest in his tyme,

[Page]Surmounted all, that on the earth dyd dwell,

That Craggye Hyls, of vertue hye dyd clyme,

That Socrates, my Cobham dyd allowe,

Eche man in youth, hym selfe in Glasse to vew,

And wyld them oft, to vse the same, but how?

Not to delyght, in forme of fadyng hew.

Nor to be proude therof, as many be,

But for to stryue, by beautie of the mynde,

For to adourne, the beautie he doth se.

If warlyke forme, Dame Nature hym assygnde,

By vertuous lyfe, than coūtenaūce for to get,

That shall deface, the fayrest of them all,

[Page]Suche Beautie as no age nor yeares wyll fret:

That flyes with fame, whan fyckle forme doth fayle,

Thus muche I saye, that here to the present,

My wordes a Glasse for the to looke vpon.

To the whom God, in tender yeares hath lent,

A towardenes, that maye be mused vpon,

Suche towardenes, as in more grauer yeares,

Doth sure a hope, of greater thyngs pretende,

Thy noble mynde, that to thy frendes appeare,

Doth showe the blud, wherof thou doste descende,

The gentlenes, thou vsest vnto all suche,

As smallye haue deserued good wyll of the,

[Page]Doth showe the grace, thou hast that sure is muche,

As euer yet, in any I dyd se,

Thy wyt as rype, as Nature well can gyue,

Declares a greater hope than all the rest,

That shall remayne, to the whilst thou doste lyue,

In desperate yls, a Medycyne euer prest.

The good behauyour, of thy selfe in place

Whersoeuer that thou chauncest for to lyght,

So much both beautie, mynde and wyt doth grace

As well can be requyred of any wyght.

What resteth now? but onely God to prayse,

Of whom thou hast receaued these Gyftes of thyns,

[Page]So shalt thou long, lyue heare with happye dayes,

And after Death, the starrye Skyes shalt clyme,

Let noughtye men, saye what they lyst to the,

Trade thou thy selfe, in seruyng hym aboue,

No sweter seruyce can deuysed be,

Whom yf thou fearst, and faythfully doste loue,

Be sure no thyng, on earth shall the annoye,

Be sure he wyll, the from eche harme defende,

Be sure thou shalt, long tyme thy lyfe enioye,

And after many yeares to haue a blessed ende.

¶Finis.

¶Of Edwardes of the Chappell.

[Page]

DEuyne Camenes that wt your sacred food,

Haue fed and fosterde vp from tender yeares,

A happye man, that in your fauour stoode

Edvvards in Courte that can not fynde his feares

Your names be blest, that in this present age

So fyne a head, by Arte haue framed out

Whom some hereafter helpt by Poets rage,

Perchaunce maye matche, but none shall passe (no doubt)

O Plautus yf thou wert alyue agayne,

That Comedies so fynely dydste endyte.

[Page]Or Terence thou that with thy plesaunt brayne,

The hearers mynde on stage dydst much delyght.

What wold you say syrs if you should beholde,

As I haue done the doyngs of this man?

No word at all, to sweare I durst be bolde,

But burne with teares, that which with myrth began,

I meane your bookes, by which you gate your name,

To be forgot, you wolde commit to flame.

Alas I wolde Edvvards more tell thy prayse,

But at thy name my muse amased stayes.

To L. Blundeston.

[Page]

SOme men be counted wyse that well can talke:

And some because they can eche man begyle.

Some for because they know well chese from chalke,

And can be sure, weepe who so lyst to smyle.

But (Blundston) hym I call the wysest wyght,

Whom God gyues grace to rule affections ryght·

The Aunswere of L. Blundeston to the same.

AFfections seekes hygh honours frayle estate,

Affections doth the golden meane reproue.

Affections tourns the frendly hart to hate,

[Page]Affections breede with out discretion Loue,

Both wyse and happye (Googe) he maye be hyght,

Whom God gyues grace, to rule affections ryght.

¶To Alexander Neuell.

THe lytell Fysh, that in the streme doth fleet

With brode forth stretched Fyns for his disporte

When as he spyes, the Fysshes bayte so swete.

In haste he hyes, fearynge to com to shorte.

But all to soone (alas) his gredy mynde,

By rash attempt, doth bryng hym to his bane,

for where he thought a great relyefe to fynde,

[Page]By hydden hooke, the symple fole is tane.

So fareth man, that wanders here and theare,

Thynkyng no hurt to happen hym therbye,

He ronnes amayne, to gase on Beauties cheare,

Takes all for golde that glysters in the eye,

And neuer leaues to feade by lookyng long,

On Beauties Bayte, where Bondage lyes enwrapt,

Bondage that makes hym synge an other song,

And makes hym curse the bayte that hym entrapte.

Neuell to the, that louest their wanton lookes,

Feade on the bayte, but pet beware the Hookes.

Alexander Neuells Answere to the same.

[Page]

IT is not cursed Cupids Dart:

Nor Venus cancred Spyght,

It is not vengea [...]ce of the Gods

That wretched harts doth smyght,

With restlesse rage of carefull Loue.

No, No, thy Force alone

Aff [...]ct [...]on fond, doth styr these flames.

Thou causest vs to mone

And waile, & curs our wretched stats.

Our thryse vnhappy plights,

Our sighes, & powdred sobs wt tears,

Our greuous gronyng Sprights,

Thy hateful Malice doth procure:

O Fancye flamyng Feend

Of Hel. For thou in outwarde shape,

And colour of a frende

Dost by thy Snares & slymed Hooks

entrap the wounded Harts:

From whence these Hellike torments spryng,

& euer greauyng Smarts.

[Page]Whence [...]ripe of minde, wt chaunged chere

Whēce face be smeard wt teares.

Whēce thousād mischiefs more, wher wt

suche Mysers liues outweares.

Our gasyng eyes on Bewties bayt

do worke out endles bane.

Our eyes I say doo woorke our woo,

Our eyes procure our paine.

These are the Traps to vexed mynds

Here Gyns and Snares do lye.

Here fyre & flames by Fancie framde,

In brest doo broyle and frye.

O Goo [...]e the Bayte sone spyed is,

Soone vewd their wanton lookes.

Wheron to feede, and yet to shun,

The priuy lurkyng hookes,

Their pain, Their toile, Their labour is

There There lyes endles strife.

O happye than that Man account,

Whose well directed Lyfe

Can fly those yls, which fancy stirs,

And lyue from Bondage free.

A Phoenix ryght on yearth (no doubte)

A Byrde full rare to see.

¶To M. Henrye Cobham of the most blessed state of Lyfe.

[Page]

THe happyest lyfe that here we haue,

My Cobham yf I shall desyne,

The goodlyest state, twyxte byrth and graue,

Most gracious dayes and swetest tyme.

The fayrest face, of fadynge Lyfe,

Race ryghtlyest ronne, in ruthfull wayes,

The safest meanes to shun all stryfe:

The surest Staffe, in fyekle Dayes:

I take not I as some do take,

To gape and gawne, for Honoures hye,

[Page]But Court and [...] to forsake,

And lyue at home, full quyetlye,

I well do mynde, what he once sayde,

Who had, Courte not in any case,

For Vertue is, in Courtes decayed,

And Vyce with States, hath chyefest place,

Not Courte but Countreye I do iudge,

Is it wheare lyes, the happyest lyfe,

In Countreye growes, no gratynge grudge,

In Countreye standes not sturdye stryfe,

In Countreye, Bacchus hath no place,

In Countreye Venus hath defecte,

[Page]In Countreye Thra [...] hath no grace,

In Countreye fewe of G [...]atoes Secte.

But these same foure and many moe,

In Courte, thou shalt be sure to fynde,

For they haue vowed, not thence to goe,

Bycause in Courte, dwels ydle mynde.

In Countreye mayste thou safelye rest,

And flye all these, yf that thou lyste,

The Countrey [...]herfore, iudge I b [...]st,

Where godly lyfe, doth vyce resyste,

Where vertuous exercyse with ioye,

Doth spende the yeares that are to run,

[Page]Where Vyces fewe, maye the annoye,

This lyfe is best whan all is done.

¶To Alexander Neuell of the blessed Sate of him that feeles not the force of Cupids flames.

AS ofte as I remembre with my self,

The Fancies fonde, that flame by foolysh Loue,

And marke the Furyes fell, the blynded elfe

And Venus she that raynes so sore aboue,

As ofte as I do se the wofull state,

Of Louers all, and eake their myserye,

The ones desyryng mynde the others hate,

[Page]Trothe with the one, with the other Trecherye,

So ofte saye I, that blessed is the wyght,

Yea Neuell blest, and double blest agayne,

That can by reason rule his mynde a ryght,

And take suche foolysh fadynge toyes for vayne.

¶Alexander Neuells Awnswere to the same.

THe plūged mind in fluds of griefs

The Sences drowned quyght,

The Hart opprest. The flesh consumed

The chaūged state outright.

The Body dryed by broylyng blase,

Of preuy schorchyng Flame.

The doulfull Face. The coūtnaūce sad

The drowping Courage tame.

The Scaldyng syghes. The greuous groones

The burning rage of fyre

[Page]The ernest sute, The fruitles Toyle.

The deepe and hot Desyre,

The Braynes quight brusd & crusht wt Cares.

The euer duryng soore.

The very paynes of Hell it self,

with thousande mischyefes moore,

Which wounded Harts enflamd with Loue

with Gryefe do ouerflow,

And works theyr endles plage & spight

Tyll Death from thence do growe.

All these conclude him blest (my Googe)

and trible blest agayne,

That taught bi tract of Time can take

Such fadyng Toyes for vayne.

¶To Maystresse A.

SYnce I so long haue lyved in pain and burnt for loue of the,

(O cruel hart) doste thou no more esteame the Loue of me,

Regardst thou not, the health of hym? that the, aboue the rest

[Page]Of Creatures all, and next to God, hath dearest in his brest.

Is pytie placed from the so farre is gentlenes exylde?

Hast thou ben fostred in the Caues, of Wolues or Lyons wylde?

Hast thou ben so? why then no force, the lesse I meruayle I,

Suche as the Dāme, suche is the yong experyence trewe doth trye.

Syth thou art of so fyerce a mynde, why dyd not God then place

In the, with suche a Tygers Harte, a fowle yll fauerde face?

Sure for no other ende but that, he lykes no Louers trade,

And the therfore a ragynge Fende, an Angels face hathe made.

Suche one as thou, was Go [...]gon ones as auncient Poets tell,

Who with her Beautie maz [...]d men, and nowe doth raygne in H [...]ll.

But mercye yet, of the I craue, yf ought in the remayne,

[Page]And let me not so long the force, of flamyng fyre sustayne,

Let pytie ioynde with beautie be, so shall I not dysdayne.

My blud, my hart, my lyfe to spende with toyle, with stryfe, and payne,

To do the good, my breath to loose, yf nede shall so requyre,

But for my seruyce and my paynes thou gyuest me hate for hyre.

Well now take this for ende of all, I loue and thou doste hate,

Thou lyuest in pleasures happely. and I in wretched staie.

Paynes can not last for euermore, but tyme and ende wyll trye,

And tyme shall tell me in my age, How youth led me awrye.

Thy face that me tormented so, in tyme shall sure decaye,

And all that I do lyke or loue, shall vanysh quyte awaye,

Thy face in tyme shall wrynckled be, at whiche I shall be glad,

[Page]To see thy forme transformed thus, that made me once so sad,

Than shall I blame my foly moch and thanke the mightyest kyng

That hath me saued tyll such a daye, to se so fonde a thyng.

And tyll that tyme I wyll keepe close my flames and let them blase,

All secretly within my brest, no man on me shall gase.

I wyll not trespasse synfully, for God shall geue me grace

To se the tyme wherin I shall neglecte thy folysh face,

And tyll that tyme adieu to thee, God keepe thee far from me,

And sende thee in that place to dwell, that I shall neuer see.

¶To George Holmeden of a ronnynge Heade.

[Page]

THe greatest vyce that happens vnto men,

And yet a vyce, that many comon haue,

As aunci [...]nt Wryters waye with sobre Pen,

Who gaue theyr doome, by force of wysdom graue,

The sorest mayme, the greatest euyll sure,

The vylest plague that Students can sustayne,

And that whiche moste doth ygnoraunce procure.

My Holmeden is to haue a ronnyng Brayne,

For who is he that leades more restles lyfe,

Or who can euer lyue more yll bestead?

¶ The Harte absent.

[Page]

SWete muse tell me, wher is my hart becom.

For well I feele, it is from hence a way,

My Sences all, doth sorrow so benumme:

That absent thus, I can not lyue a Day.

I know for troth, there is a specyall Place.

Wher as it most, desyreth for to bee:

For Oft it leaues, me thus in Dolfull case,

And hether cōmes, at length a gayne to me?

Woldest thou so fayne, be tolde where is thy Hart [...]

Sir Foole in place, wher as it shuld not be:

Tyed vp so fast, that it can neuer starte?

[Page]Tyll Wysdom get, agayne thy Lybertye:

In place wher thou, as safe maist dwel swet daw?

As may the harte, ly by the Lyons paw:

And wher for thee, as much be sure they passe:

As dyd the master, ons for Esops Asse.

¶ To Alexander Neuell.

IF thou canst banish Idlenes,

Cupidoes Bowe is broke,

Guld.

And well thou mayst dyspyse hys bronds clean void of flame & smoke

What moued the kynge Agistus ons, to Loue with vyle excesse:

The cause at hād doth streight apeare he lyued in Idlenes.

Finis.

¶The Aunswere of A. Neuell to the same.

[Page]

THe lack of labour mayms yt mind,

And wyt & Reason quyght exiles.

And Reason fled. Flames Fancy blind.

And Fancy she forthwith beguyles

The Sensles wight: that swiftly sails

Through deepest fluds of vyle exces.

Thus vice aboūds. Thus vertu quails

By meanes of drowsy Idlenes.

¶To Maystresse D.

NOt from the hye Cytherion Hyll nor from that Ladies throne

Frō whēs flies forth ye winged boy yt makes some sore to grone.

But nearer hence this token coms, from out the Dongeon deepe,

Where neuer Plutto yet dyd raygne nor Proserpyne dyd sleepe.

[Page]Wheras thy faithful Seruaunt liues. whom duetie moues aryght,

To wayle that he so long doth lacke, his owne deare Maystres syght.

¶ Out of an olde Poet.

FYe Fye, I lothe to speake wylt thou my lust,

Compell me nowe, to doo so foule an acte.

Nay rather God, with Flame consume to dust.

My carry on vyle, then I perfourme this facte

Let rather thoughtes, that long, haue weryed me:

Or sycknes suche as Fancy fonde hath brought,

O gapyng Hell, dryne me now downe to the,

Let boylyng syghes, consume me all to nought.

[Page]ONs musynge as I sat, and Candle burnynge bye,

When all were husht I myght discern a symple selye Flye.

¶That flewe before myne eyes, with free reioysynge Hart,

And here & there, with wings did play as voyde of payne and smart,

¶Somtyme by me she sat, when she had playde her fyll,

And euer when she rested had aboute she flyttered styll.

¶When I perceyud her well, reioysyng in her place,

O happy Flye quoth I, and eake, O worme in happy case.

¶Whiche two of vs is best? I that haue reason? no:

But thou that reason art without and therwith voyde of woe.

¶ I lyue and so doste thou, but I lyue all in payne,

And Subiect am to her alas, that makes my Gryefe her gayne.

[Page]WHen I do heare thy name, alas my hart doth ryse:

And seekes fourthwith to se the salue that most contētes myne eys.

But when I se thy Face, that hath procured my payne,

Then boyles my blud in euery part, and beates in euery vayne?

Thy voice when I do heare, then collour comes and goes,

Some tyme as pale as Earth I looke, some tyme as red as Rose.

If thy sweete Face do smyle, then who so well as I?

If thou but cast a scornefull looke, then out alas I dye.

But styll I lyue in payne, my fortune wylleth so,

That I shuld burne & thou yet know, no whytt of all my wo.

[Page]VNhappye tonge, why dydste thou not cōsent

When fyrst myne eyes dyd vewe that Princely face,

To show good wyll, that hart opprest than ment.

And whylst tyme was, to sewe for present grace.

O fayntyng Hart, why dydst thou then conceale?

Thyne inwarde Fyers, that flamde in euery vayne,

Whan pytie and gentlenes, were bent to heale.

Why dydst thou not, declare thy ragyng payne?

When well thou mightst haue moued her gentle mynde,

Why dydste thou than, kepe backe thy wofull playn?

Thou knewste full well, redres is hard to fynde,

Whan in thy owne affayres, thy corage faynts.

[Page]But synce she is gon, bewaile thy grief no moore

Synce thou thy selfe, wart Causer of the Soore.

¶Oculi augent dolorem. Out of syght, out of mynd.

THe oftener sene, the more I lust,

The more I lust, the more I smart

The more I smart, the more I trust,

The more I trust, the heauyer hart,

The heuy hart, breedes myne vnrest,

Thy absence therfore, lyke I best.

The rarer sene, the lesse in mynde,

The lesse in mynde, the lesser payne,

The lesser payne, lesse gryefe I fynd,

The lesser gryefe, tthe greater gayne,

The greater gayne, the meryer I,

Therfore I wysh thy syght to flye.

The further of, the more I ioye.

The more I ioye, the happyer lyfe,

[Page]The happyer lyfe, lesse hurts annoye

The lesser hurts, pleasure most ryfe,

Suche pleasures ryfe, shall I obtayne

Whē Distaūce doth depart vs twaine

¶Finis.

ACcuse not God, yf fancie fond, do moue thy foolysh brayne,

To wayle for loue, for thou thy selfe, art cause of all thy payne.

¶Finis.

TWo Lynes shall tell the Gryefs that I by Loue sustayne.

I burne, I flame, I faynt, I fryse, of Hell I feele the payne.

¶Of the vnfortunate choyse of his Valentyne.

THe Paynes that all the Furyes fell can cast frō Lymbo lake,

Eche Torment of those Hellish brains wher crawleth mani a snake,

Eche mischiefe that therrin doth lye eche smart that may be founde,

[Page]Flye frō those feendish clawe [...] a whyle with flames breake vp the grounde,

Lyght here vpon this cursed hand, make here your dwellyng place,

And plague the part, ye durst presume his Mayster to disgrace.

Whiche thrust amongst a nombre of: so many princely names,

And wher thy Maistres had her place amongst the chiefest Dames,

Durste thus presume to leue her there and drawe a straunger wyght,

And by thyne owne vnhappy draught torment my pauled Spryght.

¶The vncertayntie of Lyfe.

NO vayner thing ther can be foūd amyd this vale of stryfe,

As Auncient men reporte haue made then truste vncertayne lyfe.

This trwe we dayly fynde, by proofes of many yeares,

[Page]As answered well, vnto thy vertuous fame,

The gentlenes that at thy handes I founde

In staungers house, all vnaquaynted I,

Good S. hath my Hart to the so bounde,

That from the can it not be forced to flye,

In pledge wherof, my seruyce here I gyue

Yf thou so wylte, to serue the whylst I lyue.

¶Of Money.

GYue Money me, take Frendshyp who so lyst,

For Frends are gon come once Aduersytie,

When Money yet remayneth safe in Chest,

[Page]That quickely can the bryng from myserye,

Fayre face showe frendes, when ryches do habounde,

Come tyme of proofe, farewell they must awaye,

Beleue me well, they are not to be founde.

If God but sende the once a lowrynge daye.

Golde neuer starts asyde, but in dystres,

Fyndes wayes enoughe, to ease thyne heuynes.

¶Goyng towardes Spayne.

FArewell thou fertyll soyle, that Brutus fyrst out founde,

Whē he pooresoule, was driuen clean frō out his Coūtrey groūd.

That Northward layst thy lusty sides amyd the ragyng Seas.

[Page]Whose welthy Land doth foster vpp, thy people all in ease,

While others scrape & carke abroad, theyr symple foode to gett,

And selye Soules take all for good, that cōmeth to the Net.

Which they with painfull paynes dopych, in barrain burning Realmes:

While we haue all with out restreint among thy welthy streames.

O blest of God thou Pleasaunt Ile, where welth her self doth dwell:

Wherin my tender yeares I past, I byd thee now farewell.

For Fancy dryues me forth abrode, and byds me take delyght,

In leuyng thee and raungyng far, to se some straunger syght.

And sayth I was not framed heare, to lyue at home with eas:

But passynge foorth for knowledge sake to cut the fomyng seas.

¶At Bonyuall in Fraunce.

[Page]

O Fond affectyon, wounder of my Hart,

When wylt thou Cease, to breed my restles payne,

When comes the end, of this my Cruell smart:

When shall my force, beate backe thy force agayne.

When shall I saye, this restles rage of myne:

By Reason ruld, is banysht quyte a way,

And I escaped, these cruell bondes of thyne:

O flamynge seend, that seakest my decaye.

Safe thynkyng I, [...]haribdis Rage to flye,

On Scyll a Rocke, in Bonyuall I dye.

¶ Commynge home warde out of Spayne.

[Page]

O Ragyng Seas, and myghty Neptunes rayn [...] ▪

In monstrous Hylles, that throwest thy selfe so hye,

That wyth thy sludes, doest beate the shores of Spayne:

And breake the Clyues, that dare thy force enuie.

Cease now thy rage, and laye thyne Ire a syde,

And thou that hast, the gouernaunce of all,

O myghty God, graunt Wether Wynd and Tyde,

Tyll in my Countreye Coast, our Anker fall.

¶To L. Blundeston of Ingratitude.

[Page]

THe lytell Byrde, the tender Marlyon,

That vseth ofte vpon the Larke to praye,

With great reproche, doth stayne the mynde of man

If all be true, that Wryters of her saye.

For she a Creature, maymde of Reasons parte,

And framde to lyue accordynge to her kynde,

Doth seme to foster Reason in her Hart

And to aspyre vnto Deuyner mynde.

When Hungers rage she hath exyled quyte,

And supped well as falleth for her state.

[Page]The selye Larke, doth take by force of flyght,

And hyes to tree, where as she lodged late,

And on the tremblyng Byrde all nyght she stondes,

To keepe her feete, from force of nyppynge colde,

The amazed Wretche, within her ēnemyes handes,

And closed fast, within the claspyng holde.

Awayteth Death, with drowsye drowpyng Hart,

And all the nyght with feare drawes on her lyfe,

The gentle Byrde, whan darkenes doth departe

Doth not depryue, the selye soule of lyfe,

Nor fylles with her her hungred egre brest

But wayeng well, the seruyce she hath done.

[Page]To spyll the Blud, her Nature doth detest,

And from so great a Cryme, her selfe doth shun.

She lets her go and more with stedfast eyes.

Beholds whiche way she takes with mazed flyght,

And in those partes that Daye she neuer flyes

Leaste on that Byrde agayne she chaunce to lyght.

Loe, Blundston heare how kyndenes doth habounde,

In selye Soules where Reason is exylde,

This Byrde alone suffyseth to confounde,

The Brutysh myndes of men that are defyled,

With that great Vice, that vyle and haynous Cryme

Ingratitude (whiche some vnkyndenes call.)

[Page]That Poyson strong that spryngeth styll with tyme,

Tyll at the length, it hath infected all.

¶The Aunswere of L. Blundeston to the same.

THis Mirrour left of this thy Byrde I fynde,

Hath not suche force, to enter in the Hert,

To roote away, Vnthankefulnes of minde,

As others haue, the Vertues to peruert, (so prone we are to Vice:)

The Tenche by kynd, hath Salue for euery Soore,

And heales the maymed Pike in his dystresse,

[Page]The Churlysh Pike fo Gentlenes therfore,

In his rewarde, doth Crueltie expresse.

His murdring mynde, his fylthy spotted fayth,

When hungre prickes to fyll his gredye Iawes,

He grypes his poore Chyrurgion vnto death.

Who late to hym of lyfe was onely cause.

Thy Merlians haue fewe Ayryes in our ground

But Pikes haue Spawnes good stoore in euery Pound

§

§

¶To the Tune of Appelles.

THe rushyng Ryuers that do run

The valeys sweet adourned new

That leans their sides against ye Sun

wt Flours fresh of sūdry hew,

[Page]Both Ashe and Elme, and Oke so hye,

Do all lament my wofull crye.

while winter blak, wt hydious stormes

Doth spoil ye groūd of Sōmers grene,

while springtime sweet ye leaf returns

That late on tree could not be sene,

while sōmer burns while haruest raīs

Stil styl do rage my restles paynes.

No ende I find in all my smart,

But endles torment I sustayne

Synce fyrst alas, my wofull Hart

By sight of the was forst to playne,

Synce that I lost my Lybertie,

Synce that thou madste a Slaue of me

My Hart that once abroade was free

Thy Beautie hath in durance brought

Ons reason rulde and guyded me,

And now is wyt cōsumde wt thought

Ons I reioysed aboue the Skye,

And now for the I alas I dye.

[Page]

Ons I reioysed in Companye,

And now my chief and whole delyght

Is from my frendes awaye to flye

And keepe alone my weryed spryght

Thy face deuyne and my desyre,

Frō flesh hath me transformed to fyre.

O Nature thou that fyrst dyd frame,

My Ladyes heare of purest Golde

Her face of Crystall to the same.

Her lippes of precious Rubyes molde

Her necke of Alablaster whyte

Surmountyng far eche other Wight

Why dydst thou not that tyme deuise

Why dydst thou not forese before?

The mischyefe that therof doth ryse,

And grief on grief doth heap with stor

To make her Hart of War alone,

And not of Flynt and Marble Stone.

O Lady showe thy fauour yet,

Let not thy Seruaunt dye for the

Where Rygour rulde, let Mercye syt

[Page]Let Pytie Conquere Crueltie,

Let not Disdain, a Feend of Hell,

Posses the place, wher Grace shuld dwell.

¶Cupido Conquered.

THe sweetest time of al the yeare it was when as the Sonne,

Had newly entred Gemini, and warmynge heate begun:

Whan euery tre was clothed greene, and flowers fayre dyd show,

And when the whyt and blowmynge May on Hawthorns thicke did grow,

Whan sore I longd to seeke a broade, to se some Pleasaunt syght,

A mid my woes and heauye happes, that myght my Mynde delyght,

Care wold not let me byde within, but forst me foorth to go:

And bad me seeke sume present helpe, for to relyue my wo.

[Page]Than forward went I foorth in haste, to vew the garnysht trees?

What tyme the Son was moūted vp, twirt nyne and ten degrees.

From Flowers flew sweete ayers abroad, delighting much my brayn,

With syght & smels ga [...] [...]orow fade, and Ioy returne agayne.

So that in mynde I much reioyce, to feele my self so lyght:

For gorgyous syghtes & odours sweet had new reuyued my spryght.

Besyde the pleasaunt Harmonye, that syngyng Byrdes did make:

Bad me pul vpp my Hart agayne, and sorrow sone forsake.

For though (quoth Reason.) she be gon on whom thy Lyfe dependes,

Yet fond it is to carke and care where there is none amendes.

Thus foorth I went, & in the grooues I raunged heare and theare,

Wheras I hard suche pleasaūt tunes as Heauen had ben neare.

[Page]I thynke that if Amphion hadde, ben present ther to playe,

Or if Sir Orph [...]us myght haue hel [...], his Harp, that present day.

Or if Apoll [...] with his Lute, had stryuen to excell,

None of them all, by Musycke sholde, haue borne away the Bell.

I rather iudge the thracian wold, his Harpe wherwi [...]h he played,

Haue cast a way as one whom Ire, had vtterly dismayed.

Such passyng tunes of sundry Byrds, I neuer herd before,

The further I went in the Woods. the noyse resounded more.

O happy Byrdes quoth I what lyfe, is this that you do leade,

How far from Care and mysery, how far from Feare and dread:

With what reioysynge melodie, pass [...] you this fadyng Lyfe,

While Man vnhappiest creatur liues In wretched toyle and stryfe.

[Page]Styll foorth I went and wonderd at, this plesaunt Harmony.

And gased at these lytle Fooles, that made suche Melody:

Tyll at the length I gan to spye, a stately Lawrell tree,

So plast and sett in such a guyse, That as it seamed to me,

Dame Nature stroue to shew her self in plantyng such a thyng,

For Euen out besyde the rocke, a fountayne cleane did spryng,

Where in the water I beheld, resembled wonderous trew,

The Whyte & Greene of al the trees, adourned late of new.

And how in order eake they stood, a goodly syght to se,

And there I might discerne the Byrds that songe in euery tree.

To moue the Byll & shake the wings in vteryng Musicke sweete

And heare and thear, to flye to feade, and eftesones theare to meete.

[Page]Great pleasure had I there to byde, and stare vpon the Spryng,

For why me thought it dyd surmount, eache other kynde of thyng.

Now was the Son got vp aloft, and raught the mydle Lyne,

And in the Well, the Golden Gloobe, with flamyng Beames dyd shyne,

Wherof the Bryghtnes was so great that I might not endure,

Lenger to looke within the Spryng, whose waters were so pure.

Vnwyllyng went I thence away, and vnderneth the tree,

I laid me down whose braūches brode dyd keepe the Son from me.

Thynkyng to rest me there a whyle, tyll fallyng some degrees▪

Syr Phebus shuld haue hyd hym self, behynde the shadowyng trees,

And thē for to haue vewd the Spring, and marked euery place,

And seene yf there I could haue spied the weepyng Biblis face.

[Page]For sure I thynke, it was the place, wherein Narcissus dyed,

Or els the Well, to which was turnd poore Biblis whyle she cryed.

But whether it was werynes, with labour that I tooke,

Or Fume y• frō the Spryng dyd ryse, wherin I late dyd looke.

Or yf it were the sweete accorde that syngyng Byrdes dyd keepe,

Or what it was, I knowe no whit but I fell fast a sleepe.

I thynke the woddy Nimphes agreed that I shuld haue this chaūce,

And that it was theyr pleasure so, to showe me thyngs in traunce.

Whilste I lay thus in slumbre deepe. I myght perceyue to stande,

A Person clothed all in whyte, that held a Rod in hande.

Whiche was me thought of Massey Gold, I knew it very weale,

For that was it, made Argos sleepe, whyle he dyd Io steale.

[Page]When I perceaued by his attyre, that it was Mercuri.

My Hart at fyrst began to faynt, yet at the length quo [...]h I

Thou Goddesse Son, why standste y• there what busines now wt thee,

What meanest yu in thy flying weed, For to appeare to me,

And therwithall my thought I staied, and could no farther speake,

For Feare did force my spech to fayle, and Courage wared weake.

Which whan the sone of Maia sawe, he tooke me by the hand,

Looke vp quoth he be not affrayed: but boldly by me stand.

The Muses all of Helicon, haue fent me now to thee:

Whō thou doest serue & whose yu sekst For euer more to be.

And thankes to the by me they sende, Bycause thou tookest payne,

In theyr Affaires (a thankeles thyng) [...] [...]ayne.

[Page]Desyring thee not for to staye, for Momus ill report,

But endyng that thou hast begun, to spyte the Canckred sorte.

And thynk not thou, that thou art he, that canst escape Disdayne.

The day shall come when thankfull men, shall well accept thy Paine,

But rather lay before thyne eyes, the hie attemptes of those,

Whose statly style wt painfull proofe, theyr worthy wytes disclose,

Marke him that thundred out ye deeds grace, Of olde Anchifes sun,

Whose English verse gyues Maroes In all that he hath done,

Whose death the Muses sorrow much, that lacke of aged dayes,

Amongest the cōmon Brytons old, should hynder Virgils prayse.

Mark him y• hath wel framde a Glasse▪ for states to looke vpon,

Whose labour shews the ends of thē, that lyued long a gone.

[Page]Marke hym that showes ye Tragedies thyne owne famylyar Frende,

By whom ye Spaniards hawty Style in Englysh Verse is pende.

Marke these same three, & other moe, whose doyngs well are knowne,

Whose fayre attempts in euery place The flying fame hath blowne,

Hast thou not harde, thy selfe in place full ofte and many a tyme,

Lo here the Auctor loseth grace, Loe here a doltysh Ryme,

Now syth that they haue this reward who passe the euen as farre,

As in the nyght Diana doth, Excell the dimmest Starre.

Take thou no scorne at euyll tongs, what neadst thou to disdayne?

Syth they whō none can well amend haue lyke fruyte of theyr payne.

Moreouer yet the Ladyes nyne, haue all cōmaunded me,

Bycause they know, the blynded God hath some thyng pearced the.

[Page]To leade the foorth, a thyng to see, yf all thyngs happen ryght,

Whiche shall gyue the occasion good, with ioyfull mynde to wryght.

To this, I wold haue answered fayne and theare began to speake,

But as my words were cōmyng forth my purpose he dyd breake.

Come on (quoth he,) none Aunswere now we may no lenger staye.

But frame thy selfe, to flye abroade, for hence we must awaye.

And here withall, on both my sydes, two wyngs me thought dyd growe,

Of mighty breadth, away went he, and after hym I flowe.

And euer as we mounted vp, I lookte vpon my wyngs,

And prowde I was, me thought to see suche vnacquaynted thyngs.

Tyll foorth we flewe, my Guyde & I, with mowntyng flyght apace,

Beholdyng Ryuers, woods, & Hylles and many a goodly place.

[Page]Till at the length me thought I might a Gorgyous Castell spye,

Thear downe began my guyd to fall, and downward eake fell I,

Lo heare the place where yu must light Gan Mercury to saye,

Farwell and note what thou doost se, for I must hence away.

And with this same a way flewe he, and left me there alone,

Wher as with Feare a masde I stood, and thus began to moue.

Alas where am I now become, what Cursed Chaunce hath blown,

Me from the place where I was bred, to Countreis heare vnknown.

What ment that fell vnhappy Feend, that Maía brought to lyght,

To bring me from my Hartes desyre, to see thys dolefull syght.

Vnhappy Wretche, I wolde I hadde, his Person heare in hand,

Then shuld I wreak mine Ire of him, that brought me to this Land.

[Page]But all to late alas I wysh, for words auayle not nowe,

Tis best to learne, what place it is, and yet I knowe not howe.

Alas that here were P [...]h [...]l [...]me, with Compasse Globe in hande,

Whose Arte shuld showe me true the place & Clymate where I stande,

Well yet what soeuer chaūce theron what soeuer Realme it be,

You Castell wyll I vysyte sure, hap what hap wyll to me.

Thus much me thought alone I spoke▪ and then I forewarde went,

And cursed eke an hundred folde, them that me thyther sent.

Thus to the Ca [...]tell, strayght I came, whiche when I vewde aboute,

And sawe the workmanshyp therof full gorgeouslye set oute.

I entred in, with fearefull Harte, muche doutyng howe to speede,

But euer hope of happye chaunce, my heauye Hart [...]yd fee [...]e.

[Page]Wyde was the Courte & large within the walles were raysed hye,

And all engraued with Storyes fayre of costlye Imagrye.

There myght I se, wt wondrous Arte, the Picture porturde playne,

Of olde Orion Hunter good, whom Scorpions vyle had slayne.

And by hym stoode his Borspeare and his other Instruments,

His Net, his Darte, his Coursar, and his Hunters restyng Tents.

And vnder hym was wrytten fayre, in Letters all of Golde,

Here lies he slain, wt Scorpions sting, vnhappy wretche that wolde,

Haue forced the Ladye of this forte with stayne of Royaltie.

To haue consented to his wyll, in fylthye Lecherye.

Wherfore beware that enters here, what soeuer man thou art?

Accounte thy selfe but lost, yf that thou bearste a lecherous Hart.

[Page]Whē I had vewd these wrytten lines and markde the Storye well,

I ioyed muche, for why I knew, Dìana there dyd dwell.

Diana she that Goddesse is, of Virgyns sacred mynde,

By whom Orion Hunter wylde, his Fatall ende dyd fynde.

Next vnto hym, I myght beholde, Acteon wofull wyght,

In what a maner, all to torne, his cruell Dogs hym dyght.

There might be seene, theyr gredye mouths wt Maisters blud embrued,

And all his owne vnhappye men, that fast theyr Lorde pursued.

And many Storyes more there war engraued: to long to tell.

What fearefull haps to many men, for lust vncleane befell.

Thus as I stoode with musyng mind beholdyng all thyngs theare,

In rusheth at the Gate behynde a Post with heauy cheare.

[...]

[Page]Aboue them all I myght beholde, as placed before the rest,

Hipolitus whom Phedraes spyte? most Cruelly had drest.

Hipolitus the vnspotted Pearle: of pure Virginitie,

Whose noble Hart culd not agre, to stepdames vyllany.

Next vnto hym sat Continence, and next was Labour placed?

Of bodie bygge and strong he was, and somwhat Crabtre faced.

Next hym was placed Abstinence, a leane vnwyldy wyght,

Whose Diet thyn had banisht cleane, all fond and vayne delyght.

A Thousād more me thought ther war whose names I did not know,

And yf I did to longe it were, in Verses them to show.

Down of his knees the messenger, before them al doth fall,

And vnto chast Diana thear, for succour thus doth call.

[Page]O Goddesse chiefe of Chastitie, and Sacred Virgins mynd:

Let Pitie from your noble Hart: redresse for Misers fynd.

Let not our weryed Hartes sustaine, suche wrongfull Tyranye?

Quench quickly now the fyrie flames of open Iniurye.

This sayd for Feare he staied awhyle, and than began agayne,

A myghty Prynce (quoth he) is com, with great vnruly trayne.

All armed well at euery poynt, (a dredefull syght to se:)

And euery man in feates of armes, ryght skylfull all they be.

The Captaine chyfe in Charyot ryde with pompe and stately Pryde:

With Bow in hand of glistring gold, and Quyuer by his syde.

Wher many a shaft full sharp doth ly: and many a mortall Darte,

That hath wt poysoned force destroid, Full many a yealdyng Harte.

[Page]He entred hath within your Realme, and taken many a Forte,

Hath sakte them all, and spoyled them quyte & slayne a wondrous forte.

In straungest guyse, for where he shoots the woūde doth fester styll

And all the Surgians that we haue can not remoue the yll,

In lytell tyme the gryefe so sore, doth growe in euery parte,

Distraynyng through the venomed vaines doth so torment the Hart.

That some to ryd them selues therof in fluds full deepe they leape,

And drown thē selues som downward falles from Houses hye by heape,

Some Anker cast on crossed Beames to ryd them selues from stryfe,

And hang them selues full thycke on trees to ende a wretched lyfe.

And they whose fearefull mynds dare not thus make an ende of wo,

With greuous flames, consumynge long theyr lyfe at length forgo.

[Page]Loe here the Sōme of all I haue, this Tygre vs anoyes,

And cruellye hath spoyled vs, of all our wonted ioyes.

Whom yf your Grace, do not repuls, and fynde some present staye,

Vndoubtedly he wyll wyn this Realme, and take vs all awaye.

At this, the Ladyes all amazde for feare dyd looke full pale,

And all beheld with mazed eyes, the Wretche that tolde the tale.

Tyll at the length Hìpolitus of Hart and courage hye,

Nothyng abashde, with sodain newes began thus to replye.

Caste fere away, fayre Dames (quoth he) dismaye your selues no more,

I know by whō this mischief spryngs and know a helpe therfore.

It is not suche a dredefull Wyght, as he doth here reporte,

That entred is within these partes, and plagues the symple sorte.

[Page]Nor is his force so great to feare, I know it I full well:

It is the scornfull blynded Boy, that neare to vs doth dwell.

Whom Mars long tyme a go begott, of that Lasciuious dame:

That Linckt in Chaines for Lechery, receaued an open shame.

A disobedient blynded Foole, that durst presume to turne:

His dartes agaynst his mother ons, and causd her sore to burne.

An auncient foo: to all this Court, Of long tyme he hath ben:

And hath attempted euermore, by this: Renowne to wyn.

His cruell Hart, of Pitie voyed, doth spare no kynd of age:

But tender youth and dotyng age, he strykes in furyous rage.

And laughes to scorne the sely soules that he hath wounded so,

No Fine appoynted of theyr ils, no end of al theyr wo.

[Page]But syns he hath presumed thus, to entre heare in Place,

And heare to threten Conquests thus, agaynst Dianaes Grace,

Let him besure his loftie Mynde, this deade shall soone repent,

If that your grace do here agre, with Fre and full concent.

To make me Cheftain of this Charge and whom I lyst to chose,

If Prisoner heare I bryng hym not, Let me myne Honour lose.

And there he ceasde with ioyfull looks the Ladyes smyled all,

And thorough his wordes they hoaped soone to se Cupidoes fall.

With heauenly voice Diana thear, as chyefe aboue the rest:

This wise her words began to frame, From out her sacred brest.

My good Hipolitus quoth she, whose true and faythfull mynd:

In doubtfull daunger often I, do alwayes redy fynd.

[Page]For to reuenge the cankred rage, of all my spytfull foes,

Thou be frō whose vn [...]otted hart, the fluddes of vertue flowes.

whose seruise long hath ben aproued, within this court of myne,

Restrayne this boyes vnruly rage, by valyant means of thyne,

I geue the leaue & thee appoint, my cheyf Lieutenant here,

Chuse whom yu wilt take whom yu lyst, thou nedest no whit to feare.

With this he rose from out his place, and lokynge round a bout:

Chose Abstinence and Cont [...], with Labour Captayne stout.

And with these thre he tooke his leaue of all the Ladyes there,

Who doubtyng of his safe returne, let fall full many a teare.

He lefte them theare in heauynes, and made no more delaye,

But outward went & toward ye Cāpe, he tooke the nearest way.

[Page]With this the Queenes commyssion straight was sent abroad in haste,

To rayse vp souldiars round about, and with theyr Captayne plaste.

To bring them foorth & marching on, Hipolitus to meet.

Than sounded Trumpetes al a broad, and Drumes in euery streat.

And souldiears good lyke swarmes of Bees theyr Captains prease about

All armed braue in Corsletes white, they march with courage stout.

And forwarde shoue, till at the length where as theyr marshall lyes,

They fynd the place the ioifull soūds, Do mount aboue the skyes.

Hipolitus receaued them all, with woordes of plesaunt cheare,

And placith them in good aray, bycause the camp was neare.

Three Battails big of them he frams, and of the Rereward strong,

Hath Labour charge who steppeth foorth, before the statlye thronge:

[Page]And Captayn of the reare ward next, was placed abstinens.

And Ioind to him for Policie, was Captayne Continence:

The Battayle mayne Hipolitus, him selfe did chuse to guyd.

And in the formest front therof, on Courser fayre doth ryde:

The Trumpets sound march on apace, and Dromes the same do stryke.

Then forward moues ye Army great, In order Martiall lyke.

I cam behynde (me thought) and best, it seamed then to me:

To vew the dynt of dreedfull sword, and feyghter none to be.

Thie Spies were sent abroad to vew, the place where Cupíde lay:

A longest a Ryuer fayre and broad, they spye a pleasaunt way,

Which waye they tooke and passynge foorth, at length apeares a plaine:

Both large & vast wher [...] lyes ye rowt, of Cruell Cupides trayne.

[Page]Thus told the spyes we onward hye, and strayght in syght we haue,

The ferfull show of all our Foes, and dredfull army braue.

The first y• marched frō Cupides Camp was drowsy Idlenes.

The chyefest frend that loue had then, the next was vyle Exc [...]s.

A Lubbour great, mishapen most, of all that thear I saw,

As much I thynk in quantitie, as hores syxe can draw.

A myghty face both broad and flat, and all with Rubies set:

Muche nosed lyke a Turky Cocke, with teth as blacke as Get.

A Belye▪ byg, full trust with guts, and Pestels two, lyke Postes,

A knaue full square in euery poynt, a Prynce of dronken Dostes.

Vpon a Camell couched hye, for Horse coulde none hym beare,

A mighty Staffe in hande he had, his Foes a farre to feare.

[Page]Behynde them all, the blynded God, doth com in Charyot fayre,

With ragyng flames flong rounde about he pestres all the ayre.

And af [...]er hym, for tryumphe leades a thousande wounded Harts,

That gush abrode hot streams of blud new persed with his Dartes,

The army redy for to meete and all at poynt to fyght,

Hipolitu [...] with lusty cheare and with a noble Spryght.

His Souldiers to encourage. Thus his wordes begyns to place.

My valyaunt frends and Subiects all of Chast Dianaes Grace.

whose noble Harts were neuer staind with spot of Dastards mynd,

Behold our enemyes here at hande, behold you coward blynd.

Of lytle force, comparde with you howe in a fond araye,

They stragle out no ordre dewe, obserued in theyr waye.

[Page]Behold what goodly Guyds they haue to gouerne them withall,

That neuer knew what fighting ment but lyue to Venus thrall.

Marke hym that guyds the rerewarde there that vyle deformed Churle,

Whose foggy Mates, with paunches syde do thycke aboute him whurle.

And he that formost hether coms loe what a handsome Squyre,

Sure full vnapt to kepe the felde, more fyt to syt by the fyre.

In fyne lo Victorye at hande with hye tryumphant Crowne,

Bent for to spoyle our Foes of Fame, and cast theyr Glorye downe.

Fyght therfore now courageouslye, and ryd your frendes of feare,

Declare your Manhod valyauntly, and let your Harts appeare.

With this the sounde begyns to moūt and noyse hye to ryse,

And warlyke tunes begyn to dash, them selues agaynst the Skyes.

[Page]The Canons Cracke, begins to roor [...] and Darts full thycke they flye

And couerd thycke, the armyes both, and framde a Counter Skye.

And now the Battayls both be ioynde with stroke of Hande to trye.

The quarell iust and for to fynde, where Victory [...] doth lye,

The Souldyers all of Idl [...]nes, where Labour coms, do fall,

And wounded sore, by force of hym, all bathde in blud, they sprall.

Hym selfe alone with Idl [...]nes nowe hande to hande doth fyght

And after many a mortall wounde, destroyes the selye wyght.

Then ioynes with him Syr A [...]stinence with ayde & succours newe,

And both vpon the gresye Hoaste, of Glottonye they flewe.

The Captayn doth aduaunce hymself with Abstinence to meete,

The vnweldy Creature smitten there is tombled vnder feete.

[Page]Than Fancie flyes Incontinence and all C [...]pidoes frendes.

Beholdynge Fortune thus to frowne, by flyght them selfe defendes.

Cupido whan he sees hymselfe, thus spoylde of all his ayde,

The chyef Supporters of his Courte, so sodaynly decayde.

Bad turne his Charyottes than with haste and fast away he flyes,

Amongst the chaste Hipolitus on swyftye Courser hyes,

Than all with Ioye they after run, downe thycke the enemyes fall,

The blinded boy, for succour straight to V [...]nus hye doth call,

But all his cryes auayleth not, his Foes hym fast pursewe,

The dryuer of his Charyot soone, Hip [...]litus there slewe.

And down frō Horse, the wretche doth fall. The horses spoyld of guyde,

A Souldier stoute of Reasons bande, is wylled there to ryde.

[Page]Who turyng Raynes another waye restrayns hym of his flyght,

His Honours lost and taken thus, Cupide in dolfull plyght.

These wordes with tremblyng voyce began syth Fortune thus quoth he,

Hath giuen her doome from doubtfull brest & turnd her Grace from me.

Syth that the most misfortune nowe, that euer I could fynd,

Hath chaunced to me and Myser I, by Destenyes assygnde.

Am Captyue heare, consydre yet, what Fortune myght haue wrought

And made a Canquerer of me, and you in Bondage brought.

Consydre yet the wofull plyght, wher in you had remaynd,

If that the Gods my happy state, had not so sore disdaynd,

And by your Gryef, than mesure mine showe mercye in this case,

That Conquerour cōmended is, who gyues to pytie place.

[Page]The cruell mynd dispraysed is, In euery kynd of state,

No man to hauty lyues on earth, but ons may fynd his mate.

These wordes Hipolitus I speake, to bread no farther stryfe,

I speake not this of malyce heare, my fute is for my lyfe.

Syth Fortune thus hath fauord you, graunt thys my small request,

And let me lyue yf mercy dwell, within your Noble brest,

By this tyme Morphens had disperst the drowsy Clowd of sleape,

And frō my braynes the quyet traūce, began full fast to Creape.

And dounward fell. I wakd therwith and lokyng round a bout,

Long tyme I mused where I was, my mynd was styl in doubt.

Tyll at the length I vewde the tree, and place where as I sat,

And well beheld the pleasaūt Spryng that late I wondred at.

[Page] that late I wondred at,

I sawe besyde the Golden Globe, of Phebus shynyng bryght,

That Westwarde halfe, dyd hyde his face approchyng fast the nyght.

Eche Byrde began to shrowd hymself in tree to take his rest

And ceaste the pleasaunt tunes yt late proceaded from theyr Breaste.

I homewarde went, and left them all, and restles all that nyght,

I musynge laye, tormented thus, with fond lamentyng spryght.

When Phebus rose to passe the tyme, and passe my gryefe awaye

I toke my Pen and pend the Dreame that made my Muses staye.

¶Finis.

§

§

[Page]

¶Imprynted at London in S. Brydes Churchyarde, by Thomas [...], for Raufe Nevvbery.

And are to be sold at his shop in Fleetestrete, a lytle aboue the Conduit.

1563. 15 Die Mensis March.

¶Faultes escaped in the Pryntynge.

[Page]

¶In ye .5. Eglog, for Agon rede Egon. ¶In the .6. Eglog for Calicto, reade Calisto. ¶In ye .7. Eglog, for Duerda and Guerda, reade Diana, For Siluanus reade Siluan. For Seluagina, reade Seluagia.

¶In the .2. Epytaphe, for soore, reade sure. ¶In. H. the .2. Page, & .15. lyne, for in, reade on. H. v. Page .1. lyne, for fo, reade for .4. lyne, for Cruelty, rede cruellye. ¶In. K .5. Page .12. lyne, for hores, reade Horses.

¶Reade these .8. Lynes at the ende of the Sonet. Ons musyng. &c.

¶Thou lyuest, but feelst no gryefe, no Loue doth the torment,

A happye thynge for me it were, If God were so content.

That thou with Pen, wert placed here and I sat in thy place,

Then I shuld Ioye as thou dost nowe and thou shuldst wayle thy case.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

Eglogs epytaphes, and sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche

Googe, Barnabe, 1540-1594.

Edition statement

1563

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2006-02 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A01909

ID [STC]

STC 12048

ID [STC]

ESTC S106441

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99842157

ID [PROQUEST]

99842157

ID [VID]

6787

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A01909)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 6787)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 344:05)

Source

— Eglogs epytaphes, and sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche, Googe, Barnabe, 1540-1594., Blundeston, Laurence..

Extent

[178] p. : ill.

By Thomas Colwell, for Raffe Newbery, dwelyng in Fleetstrete a litle aboue the Conduit in the late shop of Thomas Bartelet,. Imprynted at London :: [1563]. (Edited by Laurence Blundeston, whose name appears in the heading of the preface.) (In verse.) (Signatures: A B⁴; ² A-B C (C8+"c3") D⁴ E-K.) (With a final colophon and errata leaf.) (The last leaf is blank.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

Creation

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