Epitaphes, epigrams, songs and sonets with a discourse of the friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman.

Epitaphes, epigrams, songs and sonets with a discourse of the friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman.

Table of contents

Title page

¶To the Right Noble and his singular good Lady, Lady Anne, Countesse Warwick. &c. George Turberuile wisheth increase of Honor with all good Happes.

To the Reader.

To the rayling Route of Sycophants.

The Table.

§

In prayse of the Renowmed Ladie Anne, Ladie Cowntesse Warwicke.

¶The Argument to the whole discourse and Treatise following

To a late acquainted Friende.

The Louer extolleth the singular beautie of his Ladie.

The Louer declareth how first he was taken and enamoured by the sight of his Ladie.

Maister Googe his Sonet of the paines of Loue.

Turberuiles aunswere and distick to the same.

¶An Epitaphe on the death of Dame Elyzabeth Arhundle.

To Piero of Pride.

Piero to Turberuile.

Verse in prayse of Lorde Henrye Howarde Earle of Surrey.

Of Ialousie.

To his Ladie, that by hap when he kissed hir and made hir lip bleed, controld him and tooke disdaine.

Mayster Googe his Sonet.

Turberuiles aunswere.

A comparison of the Louers estate with the Souldiars painefull lyfe.

The Louer against one that compared his Mistresse with his Ladie.

The Louer to a Centlewoman, that after great friendship without desart or cause of mislyking refused him.

The Louer obtayning his wishe by all likelyhode, yet not able to attaine his desire, compares himself to Tantalus.

The Louer to the Thems of London to fauor his Ladie passing thereon.

To his Ring giuen to his Ladie, wherein was grauen this Verse. My hart is yours.

The dispairing Louer craues eyther mercie in time at his Ladies hands, or cruell death.

To his Friende to be constant after choise made.

Counsell returned by Pyndara to Tymetes, of constancie.

The Louers must not dispaire though their Ladies seeme straunge.

A Letter sent by Tymetes to his Ladie Pyndara at the time of his departure.

Pyndaras aunswere to the Letter which Tymetes sent hir at the time of his departure.

To his absent Friend the Louer writes of his vnquiet and restlesse state.

The aunswere of a woman to hir Louer, supposing his complaint to be but fayned.

The Louer exhorteth his Ladie to take time, while time is.

The Louer wisheth to be conioyned and fast linckt with his Ladie neuer to sunder.

The Louer hoping assuredly of attaining his purpose, after long sute, begins to ioy renouncing dolors.

The Louer to his carefull bed declaring his restlesse state.

¶ An Epitaph and wofull verse of the death of sir Iohn Tregonwell Knight, and learned Doctor of both Lawes

The Louer confesseth himselfe to be in Loue and enamored of Mistresse. P.

That all things haue release of paine saue the Louer, that hoping and dreading neuer taketh ease.

A poore Ploughman to a Gentleman, for whome he had taken a little paines.

To his Friende: P. of courting, trauailing, Dysing, and Tenys.

The Louer declares that vnlesse he vtter his sorrowes by sute, of force he dyeth.

The Louer to a Friende that wrote him this sentence. Yours assured to the death.

Of certaine Flowers sent him by his Loue vpon suspicion of chaunge

The Aunswere to the same.

Of a Foxe that woulde eate no Grapes.

Of the straunge countenaunce of an aged Gentlewoman.

To the Rouing Pyrat.

Of one that had little Wit.

In commendation of Wit.

An aunswere in dispraise of Wi

The Louer to Cupid for mercie, declaring how first he became his thrall, with the occasion of his defiyng Loue, and now at last what caused him to conuert.

After misaduentures come good haps.

To his Loue that controlde his Dogge for fawning on hir.

Vpon the death of the aforenamed Dame Elizabeth Arhundle of Cornewall.

Disprayse of Women that allure and loue not.

Of a Phisition and a Soothsayer.

A controuersie of a conquest in Loue twixt Fortune and Venus.

The Louer voweth how so euer he be guerdoned to loue faithfully.

He sorrowes the long absence of his Ladie. P.

To his Loue long absent, declaring his torments.

To Browne of light beliefe.

That Death is not so much to be feared as daylie diseases are.

The Epicures counsell, eate, drinke, and plaie.

The Aunswere to the vile and canckred counsell of the outragious Epicure.

Of Homer and his birth.

That Time conquereth all things, saue the Louers paine.

To his Friend riding to Londonwarde.

Of the Raine and cloudy weather at the time of his Friends departure from Troie.

Of a couetous Niggard, and a needie Mouse.

A pretie Epigram of a Scholler, that hauing read Vergils Aeneidos, maried a curst Wyfe.

To a yong Gentleman of taking a Wyfe.

The Aunswere for taking a Wyfe.

Of a deafe Plaintife, a deafe Defendant, and a deafe Iudge.

A promise of olde good will, to an olde friend at the beginning of New yere.

A Vow to serue faithfully.

Funerall Verse vpon the death of Sir Iohn Horsey Knight.

To his Friend T: hauing bene long studied and well experienced, and now at length louing a Gentlewoman that forced him naught at all.

¶ An Epitaph vpon the death of the worshipfull Maister Richarde Edwardes late Maister of the Children in the Queenes Maiesties Chappell.

To his Loue that sent him a Ring wherein was graude, Let Reason rule.

To his Friend Francis Th: leading his lyfe in the Countrie at his desire.

To a Gentlewoman that alwayes willed him to weare Rosemarie, (a Tree that is alwayes greene,) for hir sake, and in token of his good will to hir.

¶An Epitaph of the Ladie Br.

Of the time he first began to loue and after how he forewent the same.

The assured promise of a constant Louer.

The Pine to the Mariner.

Againe otherwise.

To an olde Gentlewoman, that painted hir face.

Of one that had a great Nose.

Of one whose Nose was greater than his hand.

Of a Nightingale that flue to Colche to sit abroode.

Againe of the Nightingale.

Of a contrarie mariage.

Of Dronkennesse.

Againe of Dronkennesse.

Of the picture of a vaine Rhetorician.

Of the fond discord of the two Theban brothers, Octocles and Polynices.

Of a maruellous deformed man.

A Myrrour of the fall of Pride.

Of the Clock and the Cock.

Of a Tayler.

The Louer finding his Loue flitted from wonted troth leaues to write in prayse of hir.

He sorrowes other to haue the fruites of his seruice.

The Louer seeing himselfe abusde, renounceth Loue.

Against the Ielous heads that alwayes haue Louers in suspect.

That it is hurtfull to conceale secrets from our Friendes.

Of the diuers and contrarie passions and affections of his Loue.

Of Dido and the truth of hir death.

Of Venus in Armour.

Of a Hare complaining of the hatred of Dogs.

To one that painted Eccho.

To a cruell Dame for grace and pittie.

To a Gentlewoman from whome he tooke a Ring.

The Louer blames his Tongue that failed to vtter his sute in time of neede.

That all things are as they are vsed.

The Louer excuseth himselfe for renowncing his Loue and Ladie, imputing the same to his fate and constellation.

Of Ladie Venus, that hauing lost hir Sonne Cupid God of Loue, and desirous to vnderstand of him againe, declares by the way the nature of Loue and affections of the same, by pretie discription as followeth.

Of the cruell hatred of Stepmothers.

Againe.

To Cupid for reuenge of his vnkind and cruell Loue. Declaring his faithfull seruice and true hart both to the God of Loue and his Ladie.

An Aunswere to his Ladie, that willed him that absence should not breede forgetfulnesse.

Of a Thracyan that was drownde by playing on the Ise.

The Louer hoping in May to haue had redresse of his woes, and yet fowly missing his purpose, bewailes his cruell hap.

To a fickle and vnconstant Dame, a friendly warning.

The Louer to his Ladie that gafed much vp to the Skies.

The Penitent Louer vtterly renouncing loue, craues pardon of forefassed follies.

To his Friend that refusde him without cause why but onely vpon delight of chaunge.

To one that vpon surmise of aduersitie, forewent hir Friend.

To Maister Googes fansie that begins Giue Monie mee take friendship who so list.

The Louer abused renownceth Loue.

The forsaken Louer laments that his Ladie is matched with an other.

Of one that was in reuersion.

That all hurts and losses are to be recouered and recured saue the cruell wound of Loue.

Of the choise of his Valentine.

Of an open Foe and a fayned Friend.

Againe.

Of a Ritch Miser.

Of a Painter that painted Fauour.

The Louer whose Lady dwelt fast by a Prison.

Complaint of the long absence of his Loue vpon the first acquaintance.

The ventrous Louer after long absence craues his Ladie to meete with him in place to enterparle of hir auentures.

To Maister Googe his Sonet out of sight out of thought.

The Louer whose Mistresse feared a Mouse, declareth that he would become a Cat, if he might haue his desire.

The Louer driuen to absent him from his Ladie, bawayles his estate.

That Louers ought rather at first acquaintance to shew their meanings by Pen then by Mouth.

¶ An Epitaph of Maister Win drowned in the Sea.

Againe.

Praise of his Loue.

The complaint of a Friend of his hauing lost his Doue.

That Louers ought to shunne no paines to attaine their Loue.

A request of Friendship to Vulcans Wyfe made my Mars.

The Louer that had loued Long without requitald of good will.

To a Friend that wild him to beware of Enuie.

Of Misreporters.

That no man should write but such as doe excell.

To his Friend, declaring what vertue it is to stick to former plighted friendship.

Of two desperate Men.

Of the torments of Hell and the paines of Loue.

¶An Epitaph of the death of Maister Tufton of Kent.

Againe.

In praise of Ladie P.

The Louer in vtter dispaire of his Ladies returne, in eche respect compares his estate with Troylus.

The Louer declareth what he would haue if he might obtaine his wish.

Of a Gentlewoman that wilde hir Louer to weare greene Bayes in token of hir stedfast loue towards him.

¶An Epitaph of Maister Edwards sometime Maister of the Children of the Chappell, and Gentleman of Lyncolns Inne of Court.

¶An Epitaph on the death of Maister Arthur Brooke drownde in passing to New Hauen.

Of the renowmed Lady, Lady Anne Countesse Warwick.

The Authours Epiloge to his Booke

§

§

§

[Page]

Epitaphes, Epigrams, Songs and Sonets, with a Discourse of the Friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his Ladie.

Newly corrected with addi tions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman.

Anno Domini. 1567.

¶IMPRINTED AT London, by Henry Denham.

¶To the Right Noble and his singular good Lady, Lady Anne, Countesse Warwick. &c. George Turberuile wisheth increase of Honor with all good Happes.

[Page]

[Page]

AS AT WHAT time (Madame) I first published this fond & slender treatise of Sonets, I made bolde with you in dedication of so vnworthy a booke to so worthie a Ladie: so haue I now also rubde my browe and wiped away all shame in this respect, aduenturing not to cease, but to increase my former follie, in adding moe Sonets to those I wrote before. So much [Page] the more abusing in mine owne conceite your Ladishippes patience, in that I had pardon before of my rash attempt. But see (Madame) what presumption raignes in retchlesse youth. You accepted that my first offer of honorable and meere curtesie, and I thereby encouraged, blush not to procede in the like trade of follie, alwayes hoping for the lyke acceptance at your hands, which if should faile me (as I hope it shal not faile) then should I hereafter not once so much as dare as to set pen to paper for feare of controlment and check, which howe grieuous it is to a yong [Page] man nowe (as it were) but tasting with his lippe the brim of learnings fountaine, and saluting the Muses at the doore and thresholl, neyther is your Ladiship ignorant, and I myselfe presume to know. Wherfore as I haue (Madame) by a little inlarging this Booke, inlarged not a little my follie: so is my humble sute to you a little to inlarge your bounteous curtesie, J meane in well accepting the increase of these my follies, proceding not so much vpon any light affection, as desire to acknowledge a greater dutie. It shall not be long (I hope) but that my [Page] hande shall seeke in some part the requitall of your bountie by some better deuise, though not more learned treatise. But what shoulde I stande vpon termes of skill? knowing that it is not the worke that your Ladiship doth so much regarde as the Writer, neyther the worthinesse of the thing, as the good will and meaning of the Deuiser therof, offering his dutie in such wise as best aunsweres his abilitie and power. For as if subiectes shoulde haue respect more to the vnworthinesse of such things as they giue their Princes, than regard the worthie mindes [Page] and good natures of their Souereignes in well accepting such slender trifles at their vassels handes, they should quyte be discouraged from euer offering the like and slender giftes: so if I should cast an eie rather to the basenesse of my Booke, than account of your Noble nature and accustomed curtesie in well receyuing the same: neither should I heretofore enboldned my selfe so farre as to haue offred you this trifling treatise, nor now haue the hart to aduē ture anew, although somewhat purged of his former faults and scapes. I cannot leaue to molest your noble [Page] eies with suruey of my rashe compiled toyes. It may please your Ladyship to wey my well meaning hart, at what time occasion ministers you the pervsing of my booke, and this to deeme, that desire alone to manifest my dutie to you, was the onely cause of this my enterprise. Which done, I haue at this time no more to trouble your Ladyship, but ending my Epistle, to craue the Gods your happie preseruation of present Honor, and luckie increase of blessed happes in all your life.

Your Ladiships daily Orator George Turberuile.

To the Reader.

[Page]

HERE HAVE I (Gentle Reader) according to promise in my Translation, giuen thee a fewe Sonets, the vnripe seedes of my barraine braine, to pleasure and recreate thy wearye mind and troubled hed withal. Trusting that thou wylte not loth the bestowing thy time at vacant houres in pervsing the same. Waying that for thy solace alone (the bounden dutie which I owed the noble Cowntesse reserued) I vndertoke this [Page] slender toyle, and not for anye pleasure I did my selfe in penning thereof. As I deeme thou canst not, so do I hope thou wilt not mislike it at all. But if there be any thing herein that maye offend thee, refuse it, reade and pervse the reast with pacience. Let not the misliking of one member procure thee rashlye to condemne the whole. I stand to thy iudgement, I expect thy aequitie. Reade the good, and reiect the euill: yea rather condemne it to perpetuall silence. For so woulde I wyshe thee to [Page] deale wyth vnworthye Bookes: But assuredlye there is nothing in thys whole slender Volume that was ment amisse of me the Writer, howsoeuer the Letter goe in thy iudgement that arte the Reader.

Whatsoeuer I haue penned, I write not to this purpose, that any youthlie head shoulde folow or pursue such fraile affections, or taste of amorous bait: but by meere fiction of these Fantasies, I woulde warne (if I myghte) all tender age to flee that fonde and filthie affection [Page] of poysoned & vnlawful loue. Let this be a Glasse & Myrror for them to gaze vpon: the soner may I (I trust) preuayle in my perswasiō, for that my selfe am of their yeares and disposition. And as I am not the first that in this sort hath written & imployde his time: so shall I not be the last, that without desarte (perhaps) shalbe misdeemed for attempting the same. But let those curious Knightes cast an eye to home, and looke well about whether they them selues are blamelesse, or as well [Page] worthie reproche as others. This done and my intent considered, hoping of thy courtesie I ende, alwayes readie to pleasure thee by my pains, wishing vnto thee, that arte the patient Reader, as to my self the Writer and thy very Friend.

George Turberuile.

To the rayling Route of Sycophants.

[Page]

[Page]

IF he that once encountred with his Foes

In open field at sound of blasted Trumpe,

Doe dare to yéelde his hewed head to vides,

And go again to heare ye Canons thumpe:

With dreadlesse hart and vnappalled brest

Not fearing till he be by Foes opprest:

If such as earst in cutting of the Surge

By passing to the straunge and forraine lande

Bode bitter blast and scornefull Neptunes scurge,

Dreade not to take the lyke attempt in hande,

But rashly runne like sturdie ventrous Wights

Not fearing wind nor wane when Borias fights:

If these (I say) doe nothing doubt at all

But valiantly giue fresh assault anew,

Not dreading daunger that is like to fall,

As they long earst by proufe and practise knew:

Then why should I of yore that haue assayde

The force of Zoylls mouth be ought dismayde?

Then why should I, like one that fearde to fight

Or neuer crusht his head with Helmets heft,

Now shew my selfe a weake and coward Wight

As long as life or lym vncut is left:

Fo [...] [...] [...]st and I attempt the like,

And [...] selfe now shall I [...]ck is strike?

[Page] No, no, I martch gainst Momus once againe,

My courage is not quailde by cruell Fo,

Though Zoyll did his best my Flag to gaine,

Twas not his hap to haue the Conquest so:

And since it was my luck to scape his might,

I here assaile the Beast with nouell fight.

Thou Sycophant, vnsheath thy shamefull blade

Pluck out that bloudie Fawchon (Dafrard thou)

Wherewith thou hast full many a skirmish made

And scocht the braines of many a learned brow.

Now doe thy woorst, I force not of thy stroke,

Thou shalt not bring my neck to seruage yoke.

Though thou affirme with rash & railing iawes

That I inuita haue Minerua made

My other Booke, I gaue thée no such cause

By any déede of mine to drawe thy blade:

But since thou hast shot out that shamelesse worde,

I here gainst thée vncote my cruell sworde.

I know thou wilt eche worde and sentence wrie

That in this slender Booke of me is write,

And wilt the same vnto thy sense applie

Hoping for loue thereby to bréede dispite:

And looke what I amisse did neuer meane,

Thou wilt mistake and eke misconster cleane.

Thou wilt the wylie braine that ought is bent

To fowle suspect and spot of fell distrust,

Perswade that here something of him was ment,

And Iealous Coales into his bosome thrust,

[Page] Thincking thereby thy purpose to as [...]

In setting of his boyling breast a fire.

But as thou art in all thy other déedes

Deseruing no beliefe or trust at all:

Likewise what so from thy vile Iawes procéedes,

Is lothsome lie, fowle [...]itton, bitter Gall.

Beleue him not but reade the Treatise through,

He sowes debate with helpe of hatefull Plough.

The modest mind that meanes but vertues trade

And shunnes the shamefull shop of bawdie sect,

This spitefull Beast will (if he may) perswade

That these are Toyes: for that he should reiect

And not pervse the meaning of the same,

Thus Zoyll séekes but blot of black defame.

But thou that vewste this stile with staid brow,

Marke crie worde, vnioint eche Verse of mine,

Thy iudgement I and censure will allow,

Nor once will séeme for rancour to repine:

Thou art the man whose sentence I expect,

I scorne the scoffes of Zoylls shamefull sect.

FINIS.

The Table.

[Page]

IN prayse of the Renowmed Ladie Anne, Ladie Cowntesse Warwick. fol. 1.

The Argument to the whole discourse and Treatise following. fol. 3.

To a late acquainted Friend. fol. 4.

The Louer extolleth the singular beautie of his Ladie. 6

The Louer declareth howe first he was taken and enamoured by the sight of his Ladie. 7

Mayster Googe hys Sonet of the paynes of Loue. 8

Turberuiles Aunswere and Distich to the same. 8

¶An Epitaph on the death of Dame Elyzabeth Arhundle. 9

To Piero of Pride. 9

Piero to Turberuile. 9

Verse in prayse of Lorde Henry Howarde Earle of Surrey. 9

Of Ialousie. 10

To his Lady, that by hap when he kissed hir and made hir lip bleede, controlde him and tooke disdaine. 10

Mayster Googe his Sonet. 11

[Page] Turberuiles aunswere. 11

A Comparison of the Louers estate wyth the Souldiars painefull lyfe. 11

The Louer against one that compared hys Mistresse with his Ladie. 12

The Louer to a Gentlewoman, that after great friendship without desart or cause of mislyking refused him. 14

The Louer obtaining his wish by all likelyhode, yet not able to attaine his desire, compares himselfe to Tantalus. 16

The Louer to the Thems of London to fauour his Ladie passing thereon. 18

To his Ring giuen to his Lady, wherin was grauen this Verse. My hart is yours. 18

The dispairing Louer craues eyther mercy in time at his Ladies handes, or cruell death. 19

To his Friende to be constant after choyse made. 20

Counsell returned by Pyndara to Tymetes, of constancie. 21

The Louers must not dispaire though their Ladies seeme straunge. 21

A Letter sent by Tymetes to his Lady Pyndara at the time of his departure. 23

Pyndaras Aunswere to the Letter whiche Tymetes sent hir at the time of his departure. [Page] 24

To his absent Friende the Louer writes of his vnquiet and restlesse state. 29

The aunswere of a Woman to hir Louer, supposing his complaint to be but fayned. 31

The Louer exhorteth his Ladie to take time, while time is. 32

The Louer wisheth to bee conioyned and fast linckt with his Ladie neuer to sunder. 33

The Louer hoping assuredly of attayning hys purpose, after long sute, begins to ioy renouncing dolors. 35

The Louer to hys carefull Bed declaring his restlesse state. 35

¶ An Epitaph and wofull Verse of the death of Sir Iohn Tregonwell Knight, and learned Doctor of both lawes. 36

The Louer confesseth himselfe to bee in loue and enamored of Mistresse P. 39

That all things haue release of paine saue the Louer, that hoping and dreading neuer taketh ease. 39

A poore Ploughman to a Gentleman, for whom he had taken a little paines. 41

To his Friend: P: of courting, trauailing, Dysing, and Tenys. 41

[Page] The louer declares that vnlesse he vtter his sorrowes by sute, of force he dyeth. 42

The Louer to a Friende that wrote hym this sentence. Yours assured to the death. 42

Of certaine Flowers sent by his Loue vpon suspicion of chaunge. 42

The Aunswere to the same. 43

Of a Foxe that would eate no Grapes. 43

Of the straunge countenaunce of an aged Gentlewoman. 43

To the Rouing Pyrat. 44

Of one that had little Wit. 44

In commendation of Wit. 44

An Aunswere in dispraise of Wit. 44

The Louer to Cupid for mercie, declaring how first he became his Thrall, with the occasion of his defying loue, and now at last what caused him to conuert. 45

After misaduentures come good haps. 55

To his Loue that controlde his Dogge for fawning on hir. 55

Vpon the death of the aforenamed Dame Elizabeth Arundle of Cornewall. 56

Dispraise of Women that allure and loue not. 59

Of a Phisition and a Soothsayer. 62

A controuersie of a conquest in loue twixt Fortune and Venus. 62

[Page] The Louer voweth howsoeuer he be guendoned to loue faithfully. 63

He sorrowes the long absence of hys Ladie P. 64

To his Loue long absent, declaring hys torments. 65

To Browne of light beliefe. 67

That death is not so much to be feared as daylie diseases are. 68

The Epicures counsell, eate, drinke, and plaie. 68

The Aunswere to the vile and canckred counsell of the outragious Epicure. 69

Of Homer and his birth. 69

That time conquereth all things, saue the Louers paine. 70

To his Friend ryding to Londonward. 71

Of the Rayne and cloudy weather at the time of hys Friendes departure from Troie. 71

Of a couetous Niggarde, and a needie Mouse. 71

A pretie Epigram of a Scholler, that hauing read Vergils Aeneidos, maried a curst Wyfe. 73

To a yong Gentleman of taking a wife. 73

The Aunswere for taking a Wyfe. 73

Of a deafe Plaintife, a deafe Defendant, [Page] and a deafe Iudge. 74

A promise of olde good will, to an olde friend at the beginning of New yere. 75

A Vow to serue faithfully. 75

Funerall Verse vpon the death of Sir Iohn Horsey Knight. 75

To his Friende T: hauing beene long studied and well experienced, and nowe at length louing a Gentlewoman that forced him naught at all. 76

¶An Epitaph vpon the death of the worshipfull Mayster Richarde Edwards late Mayster of the Children in the Queenes Maiesties Chappell. 77

To his Loue that sent him a Ring wherin was graude, Let Reason rule. 79

To his Friend Francis Th: leading his lyfe in the Countrie at his desire. 79

To a Gentlewomā that alwaies willed him to weare Rosemarie, (a Tree that is alwayes greene,) for his sake, and in token of his good will to hir. 80

¶ An Epitaph of the Ladie Br. 81

Of the time he first began to loue and after how he forewent the same. 81

The assured promise of a constaunt Louer. 82

[Page] The Pine to the Mariner. 82

Againe otherwise. 83

To an olde Gentlewoman, that painted hir face. 83

Of one that had a great Nose. 83

Of one whose Nose was greater than hys hande. 84

Of a Nightingale that flue to Colche to sit abroode. 84

Againe of the Nightingale. 84

Of a contrarie mariage. 84

Of Dronkennesse. 85

Againe of Dronkennesse. 85

Of the picture of a vaine Rhetorician. 85

Of the fond discorde of the two Theban brothers, Oeteocles and Polynices. 85

Of a maruellous deformed man. 85

A Myrrour of the fall of Pride. 85

Of the Clock and the Cock. 89

Of a Tayler. 89

The Louer finding hys Loue flitted from wonted troth leaues to write in praise of hir. 90

He sorrowes other to haue the fruites of his seruice. 91

The Louer seing himselfe abusde, renounceth loue. 92

Against the Ielous heads that alwayes haue [Page] Louers in suspect. 94

That it is hurtfull to conceale secrets from our Friendes. 96

Of the diuers and contrarie passions and affections of his loue. 97

Of Dido and the truth of hir death. 99

Of Venus in Armour. 99

Of a Hare complayning of the hatred of Dogs. 99

To one that painted Eccho. 99

To a Cruell Dame for Grace and pyttie. 100

To a Gentlewoman from whome he tooke a Ring. 100

The Louer blames his Tongue that fayled to vtter his sute in time of neede. 101

That all things are as they are vsed. 102

The Louer excuseth himselfe for renowncing his loue and Ladie, imputing the same to his fate and constellation. 103

Of Lady Venus, that hauing lost hir sonne Cupid God of loue, and desirous to vnderstand of him againe, declares by the way the nature of loue and affections of the same, by pretie discription as followeth. 105

Of the cruell hatred of Stepmothers. 106

Againe. 106

[Page] To Cupid for reuenge of his vnkind & cruel loue. Declaring his faithful seruice and true hart both to the God of Loue and his Ladie. 106

An Aunswere to his Ladie, that willed him that absence should not breede forgetfulnesse. 107

Of a Thracyan that was drownde by playing on the Ise. 109

The Louer hoping in May to haue had redresse of his woes, and yet fowly missing his purpose, bewailes his cruell hap. 109

To a fickle & vnconstant Dame, a friendlye warning. 111

The Louer to his Ladie that gased much vp to the Skies. 111

The Penitent Louer vtterly renowncing loue, craues pardon of forepassed follies. 111

To his Friende that refusde him without cause why but onely vpon delight of chaunge. 113

To one that vpon surmise of aduersitie, forewent hir Friend. 114

To Maister Googes fansie that begins giue Monie mee take friendshippe who so list. 115

The Louer abused renownceth loue. 115

[Page] The forsaken Louer laments that his Ladie is matched with an other. 117

Of one that was in reuersion. 117

That all hurtes and losses are to be recouered and recured saue the cruell wound of Loue. 118

Of the choise of his Valentine. 119

Of an open Foe and a fayned Friend. 119

Againe. 119

Of a Ritch Miser. 119

Of a Painter that painted Fauour. 120

The Louer whose Ladie dwelt fast by a Prison. 120

Complaint of the long absence of his loue vpon the first acquaintance. 121

The ventrous Louer after long absence craues his Ladie to meete with hym in place to enterparle of hir auentures. 122

To Maister Googe his Sonet out of sight out of thought. 124

The Louer whose Mistresse feared a Mouse, declareth that he would become a Cat, if he might haue his desire. 124

The Louer driuen to absent him from his ladie, bewailes his estate. 125

That Louers ought rather at first acquaintance to shewe their meanings by Pen then by Mouth. 127

[Page] ¶An Epitaph of Maister Win drowned in the Sea. 127

Againe. 128

Praise of his Loue. 129

The complaint of a Friend of his, hauing lost his Doue. 130

That Louers ought to shunne no paines to attaine their Loue. 131

A request of Friendship to Vulcans Wyfe made my Mars. 132

The Louer that had loued Long without requitall of good will. 132

To a Friende that wild him to beware of Enuie. 133

Of Misreporters. 133

That no man should write but such as doe excell. 133

To his Friende, declaring what vertue it is to sticke to former plighted friendship. 134

Of two desperate Men. 134

Of the torments of Hell and the paines of loue. 134

¶An Epitaph of the death of Maister Tufton of Kent. 136

Againe. 137

In praise of Ladie P. 137

The Louer in vtter dispaire of his Ladies [Page] returne, in eche respect compares his estate with Troylus. 139

The Louer declareth what he would haue if he might obtaine his wish. 141

Of a Gentlewoman that wild hir Louer to weare greene Bayes in token of hir stedfast loue towards him. 142

¶An Epitaph of Maister Edwards sometime Maister of the childrē of the Chappell, & Gentleman of Lyncolns Iune of Court▪ 142

¶An Epitaph on the death of Maister Arthur Brooke drownde in passing to New Hauen. 143

Of the renowmed Lady, Lady Anne Countesse Warwick. 144

FINIS.

§

§

[Page]

[figure]

The Lyon stout, whome neuer earst

coulde any beast subdue:

Here (Madame as you se) doth yeelde

both to your Beare and you.

In prayse of the Renowmed Ladie Anne, Ladie Cowntesse Warwicke.

[Page]

WHen Nature first in hande did take

The Clay to frame this Cowntesse corse

The Earth a while shée did forsake,

And was compelde of verie force

With mowlde in hande to flée to Skies,

To ende the worke shée did deuies.

The Gods that tho in counsell sate,

Were halfe amazde (against their kinde)

To see so néere the stoole of state

Dame Nature stande, that was assignde

Among hir worldly Impes to wonne,

As shee vntill that day had donne.

First Ioue began: what (Daughter déere)

Hath made thee scorne thy Fathers will?

Why doe I see thée (Nature) héere,

That oughtst of dutie to fulfill

Thy vnder taken charge at home:

What makes thée thus abroade to rome?

Disdainefull Dame, how didst thou dare

So retchlesse to depart the grownde,

That is alotted to thy share?

(And therewithall his Godhead frownde.)

I will (quoth Nature) out of hande

Declare the cause I fled the lande.

[Page] I vndertooke of late a péece

Of Claye a featurde face to frame,

To match the courtly Dames of Gréece

That for their beautie beare the name:

But (Oh good Father) now I soe

This worke of mine it will not bée.

Vicegerent since you mée assignde

Belowe in Earth, and gaue mée lawes

On mortall Wightes, and willde that Kinde

Should make and marre, as shee sawe cause:

Of right (I think) I may appeale

And craue your helpe in this to deale.

When Ioue sawe how the case did stande

And that the worke was well begonne,

Hée prayde to haue the helping hande

Of other Gods till hée had donne:

With willing mindes they all agréede

And set vpon the Clay with spéede.

First Ioue eche limme doth well dispose

And makes a Creature of the Clay:

Next Ladie Venus she bestowes

Hir gallant gifts as best shée may,

From face to foote, from top to toe

Shée let no wait vntoucht to goe.

When Venus had donne what she coulde

In making of hir (carcas) braue

Then Pallas thought shée might be bolde

Among the reast a share to haue,

[Page] A passing wyt shée did conuaye

Into this passing peece of claye.

Of Bacchus shee no member had

Saue fingars fine and feate to see,

Hir head with Heare Apollo clad

That Gods had thought it golde to bée:

So glistring was the tresse in sight

Of this newe formde and featurde Wight.

Diana helde hir peace a space

Vntill those other Gods had donne:

At last (quoth shée) in Dians chase

Wyth Bowe in hande this Nymph shall ronne,

And chiefe of all my Noble traine

I will this Virgin entertaine.

Then ioyfull Iuno came and sayde

Since you to hir so friendly are,

I doe appoint this Noble Mayde

To match with Mars his péere for warre:

She shall the Cowntesse Warwick bée,

And yéelde Dianas Bowe to mée.

When to so good effect it came

And euery member had hys grace,

There wanted nothing but a name:

By hap was Mercurie then in place,

That sayde: pray you all agrée

Pandora graunt hir name to bée.

For since your Godheads forged haue

With one assent this Noble Dame,

[Page] And eche to hir a vertue gaue,

This terme agréeth to the same:

The Gods that heard Mercurius tell

This tale, did lyke it passing well.

Report was sommonde then in hast

And willde to bring his Trumpe in hande

To blowe therewith a sownding blast

That might be heard through Brutus lande:

Pandora streight the Trumpet blewe

That eche this Cowntesse Warwicke knewe.

O sielie Nature borne to paine,

O wofull wretched kinde (I say)

That to forsake the soyle were faine

To make this Cowntesse out of Claye:

But oh most friendly Gods that woulde

Vouchsafe to set your handes to mowlde.

¶The Argument to the whole discourse and Treatise following

[Page]

BY sodaine sight of vnacquainted shape

Tymetes fell in loue with Pyndara,

Whose beautie farre excelde Sir Paris rape,

That Poets cleape the famous Helena.

His flame at first be durst not to displaye,

For feare be should offended Pyndara:

But couert kept his torments many a daye,

As Paris did from worthie Helena.

At length the coale so fierie redde became,

Of him that so did fansie Pyndara

That fuming smoke did wrie the hidden flame

To hir that farre exceeded Helena.

Which when shee saw, shee seemde with friendly eie

To like with him that lyked Pyndara:

And made as though shee would eft soone applie

To him, as to hir guest did Helena.

Tymetes (loouing man) then hoped well,

And moonde his sute to Ladie Pyndara:

He plide his Penne and to his writing fell

And sude as did the man to Helena.

Within a while dispayring wretched Wight

He found his Loue (the Ladie Pyndara)

So straunge and coye, as though she tooke delight

To paine hir Friend, as did faire Helena.

[Page] Another time hir cheere was such to see,

That poore Tymetes hoapte that Pyndara

Woulde yeelde him grace: But long it woulde not bee,

She kept aloofe as did Dame Helena.

Thus twixt dispaire and hope the doubtfull man

Long space did liue that loued Pyndara,

In wofull plight: At last the Nymph began

To quite his loue as did faire Helena.

Then ioyed be, and cherefull ditties made

In praise of his atchiued Pyndara:

But sone (God wote) his pleasure went to glade,

Another tooke too wife this Helena.

Thus euer as Tymetes had the cause

Of ioy or smart, of comfort or refuse:

He glad or griefull woxe, and euer drawes

His present state with Pen as here ensues.

To a late acquainted Friende.

[Page]

IF Vulcan durst presume

that was a Gnuffe to sée,

And strake with Hammer on the Stiche

a cunning Smith to bée,

Whose chiefe and whole delight

was aye to frie at Forge,

And listen to that melodie

Smithes sorrowes to disgorge:

If Vulcan durst (I saye)

Dame Venus to assaile

That was the worthyste Wight of all,

if witnesse may preuaile:

Then may you muse the lesse,

though fansie force me wright

To you a second Venus (Friende)

and Helen in my sight.

For what he saw in hir

a Goddesse by hir kinde,

That I in you (my chosen Friende)

and somewhat else doe finde.

And as that sielie Smith

by Cupid was procurde

To fawne on hir, to whome in fine

hee firmely was assurde:

[Page] So by none other meanes

my Senses are in thrall,

But by procurement of the God

that conquers Gods and all.

Tis hée that makes mée bolde,

tis hée that willes me sue

To thée (my late acquainted Friende)

loues torment to eschue.

Not too this day was séene

that any durst rebell

Or kicke at Cupid Prince of Loue,

as learned Poets tell:

But rather would with frée

and vncoacted minde

Applie to please in any case

what so the God assignde.

What néede I here displaye

the spoyles by Cupid wonne?

Not I, but you (my Friende) woulde faint

ere halfe the tale were donne.

His Banner doth declare

what harts haue béene subdude:

Where they are all in Sabels set

with blood and gore imbrude.

Not mightie Mars alone,

nor Hercules the stoute:

But other Gods of greater state,

there standing in a route.

[Page] There may you plainely sée

how Ioue was once a Swanne,

To lure faire Leda to his lust

when raging Loue beganne.

Some other when a Bull,

some other time a showre

Of golden drops: as when he coyde

the closed Nunne in towre.

Appollos Loue appeares

and euer will be knowne,

As long as Lawrell leaues shall last,

and Daphnes brute be blowne.

May brainsick Bacchus brag

or boast himselfe as frée?

Not I, but Aryadnas Crowne

shewes him in loue to bée.

Since these and other mo

that Gods were made by kinde

Might not auoyde that guilefull God

that winged is and blinde:

Should I haue hope to scape

by force, or else by flight,

That in respect of those his thralls

am of so slender might?

As they did yéelde to Loue

for feare of Cupids yre:

Euen so am I become his thrall

by force of flaming fyre.

[Page] What time I first displayde

mine eies vpon thy face,

(That doth allure eche lookers hart)

I did the P. imbrace.

And since that time I féele

within my breast such ioye,

As Paris neuer felt the like

when Helen was at Troye.

How coulde so barraine soyle

bring forth so good a Graffe,

To whome the reast that séeme good Corne

are in respect but Chaffe?

(O God) that Cupid woulde

vpon thy breast bestowe

His golden shaft, that thou the force

of lyking loue mightst knowe.

Then should I stande in hope

and well assured bée,

That thou wouldst be as friendly (P.)

as I am now to thée.

Whome (till thy friendship fayle,

and plighted Hest doe swerue)

I vaunt and vowe by mightie Ioue

with hart and hande to serue.

My Senses all take héede,

and yée my wits beware

That you attentiue be on hir

and for none other care.

[Page] You eies that woonted were

light louing lookes to cast,

I giue commaundment on hir hue

that yée be ankred fast.

Mine eares admit no sounde

ne Womans woords at all:

Be shut against such Syrens Songs

repleate with lurking gall.

Tongue sée that thou be tyde,

and vse no wanton stile:

By lawe of Loue I thee coniure

such toyes to exile.

Legges looke that yee be lame

when you should reache a place

To take the vewe of Venus Nymphes

Pees beautie to deface.

For such a one is shee

whome I would will you serue,

As to be plaste for Pallas péere

for wisedome may deserue.

So constant are hir lookes

and eakē as chaste a face:

As if that Lucrece liuing were

shée Lucrece would disgrace.

So modest is hir mirth

in erie time and tyde,

As they that prick most nearste of all

their shiuerde shafts are wyde.

[Page] Pause Pen a while therefore,

and vse thy woonted meane:

For Boccas braine, and Chaucers Quill

in this were foyled cleane.

Of both might neither boast

if they did liue againe:

For P. would put them to their shifts

to Pen hir vertues plaine.

Yet one thing will I vaunt

and after make an ende,

That Momus can not for his lyfe

deuise one iote to mende.

Thus to conclude at length,

sée thou (my Friend) pervse

This slender Verse, till leysure serue

abrode to bring my Muse.

For then you shall perceiue

by that which you shall sée,

That you haue made your choise as well

as I by choosing P.

The Louer extolleth the singular beautie of his Ladie.

LEt Myron muse at Natures passing might,

And quite resigne his pieuish Painters right:

For sure he can not frame hir featurde shape

That for hir face excels the Gréekish rape.

[Page] Let Zeuxis Grapes not make him proude at all,

Though Fowles for them did skyr against a wall:

For if hée should assay my Loue to paint,

His Art would fayle, his cunning fist would faint.

Let Praxitell presume with Pensill rude

Base things to blaze the people to delude:

Hir featurde limmes to drawe let him not dare

That with the fayre Diana may compare.

Though Venus forme Apelles made so well,

As Creece did iudge the Painter to excell:

Yet let not that enbolde the Gréeke to graue

Hir shape, that beauties praise deserues to haue.

For Nature when she made hir, did entende

To paint a péece that no man might amende:

A paterne for the reast that after shoulde

Be made by hande, or cast in cunning moulde.

The Louer declareth how first he was taken and enamoured by the sight of his Ladie.

I Hauing neuer earst

the craft of Cupid tride,

Ne yet the wylie wanton wayes

of Ladie Venus spide,

But spent my time in sporte

as youth is woont by kinde,

Not forcing fansies pinching powre

that other Wights did blinde:

[Page] By fortune founde a face

that lykte my hart so well,

As by the sodaine vewe thereof

to fansies frame I fell.

No sooner had mine eies

vpon hir beautie stayde,

But Wit and Will without respect

were altogither wayde.

Vnwarely so was none

in such a snare before:

The more I gazde vpon hir face,

I lykte my Loue the more.

Forthwith I thought my hart

out of his roome was rapt:

And wits (that woonted were to wayte

on Reason) were intrapt,

Downe by mine eies the stroke

descended to the hart:

Which Cupid neuer crazde before

by force of golden dart.

My bloud that thought it bounde

his Maisters part to take,

No longer durst abide abroade,

but outwarde limmes forsake.

Which hauing béene in breast

and frostie colde dismayde:

It hasted from the hart againe

externall partes to ayde.

[Page] And brought with it such heate

as did enflame the face,

Distayning it with Scarlet redde

by rashnesse of the race.

And since that time I féele

such pangues and inwarde fits,

As now with hope, and then with feare

encombred are my wits.

Thus must I Miser liue

till shee by friendly ruth

Doe pittie mée hir louing Thrall

whose déedes shall trie his truth.

Thrise luckie was the day,

thrise happie cake the place,

And yée (mine eies) thrise blessed were

that lighted on hir face.

If I in fine may force

hir pittie by my plaint:

I shall in cunningst verse I may

hir worthie prayse depaint.

There is one thing makes me ioy

and bids me think the best:

That cruell rigor can not lodge

where beautie is possest.

And sure vnlesse she salue

and beale this cankred wounde

By yéelding grace, it must in time

of force my corps confounde.

[Page] For long it may not last

that in such anguish lies:

Extreames in no case can endure

as Sages did deuise.

No Tyger gaue hir Teate,

she is no Lyons whelpe:

Ne was she bred of cruell rocks,

nor will renounce to helpe

Such as she paines with loue,

and doth procure to wo:

She is not of the Currish kinde,

hir nature is not so.

Maister Googe his Sonet of the paines of Loue.

TWoo lynes shall tell the griefe

that I by Loue sustaine:

I burne, I flame, I faint, I fréeze,

of Hell I féele the paine.

Turberuiles aunswere and distick to the same.

TWoo lynes shall teach you how

to purchase ease anewe:

Let Reason rule where Loue did raigne,

and ydle thoughts eschewe.

¶An Epitaphe on the death of Dame Elyzabeth Arhundle.

[Page]

HEre graued is a good and Godly Wight,

That yéelded hath hir cynders to the soyle,

Who ran hir race in vertues tylt aright

And neuer had at Fortunes hand the foyle:

The guide was God whome shée did aye ensue,

And Vertue was the marke whereat she thrue.

Descending of a house of worthie fame

Shée linckt at length with one of egall state,

Who though did chaunge hir first & former name,

Did not enforce hir vertues to rebate:

For Dannat shee Dame Arhundle was hight,

whose Féere was knowne to be a worthy Knight.

Hir beautie I not blaze ne brute at all,

(Though with the best she might therein compare)

For that it was to age and fortune thrall:

Hir thewes I touch which were so passing rare,

As being earthde and reaft hir vitall breath,

Hir chiefest part doth liue and conquer death.

Let Spite not spare to speake of hir the wurst,

Let Enuie feede vpon hir godly life,

Let Rancour rage, let Hatreds bellie burst,

Let Zoill now vnsheath his cutting knife:

For death hath closde hir corse in Marble graue,

Hir soule is fled in Skies his seate to haue.

[Page] Let Leyster laugh that such a Mirrour bred:

Let Matrons mourne for losse of their renowne,

Let Cornewall crie since Dannat now is ded,

Let Vertue eke doe on hir mourning gowne:

For she is rest that was at Vertues beck

Whome Fortune had no powre to giue the check.

To Piero of Pride.

FRiend Piero, Pride infects a friendly minde,

The haughtie are pursude with deadly hate:

Wherfore eschue the proude & Peacocks kinde.

That gréede are to sit on stoole of state:

The lowly hart doth winne the loue of all,

But Pride at last is sure of shamefull fall.

Piero to Turberuile.

GOod is the counsell (Turberuile) you giue,

It is a vertue rare well to aduise,

But if your selfe in Peacoks sort doe liue

Men déemen may you are not perfite wise:

Whose chiefest point in act consisteth aye,

Well doing farre excelleth well to saye.

Verse in prayse of Lorde Henrye Howarde Earle of Surrey.

WHat should I speake in prayse of Surreys skill

Vnlesse I had a thousand tongues at will?

No one is able to depaint at full,

The flowing fountaine of his sacred Skull.

[Page] Whose Pen approoude what wit he had in mue

Where such a skill in making Sonets grue.

Eche worde in place with such a sleight is coucht,

Eche thing whereof he treates so firmely toucht,

As Pallas séemde within his Noble breast

To haue soiournde, and béene a daylie guest.

Our mother tongue by him hath got such light,

As ruder speach thereby is banisht quight:

Reproue him not for fansies that he wrought,

For Fame thereby and nothing else he sought.

What though his verse wt pleasāt toyes are fright?

Yet was his honours life a Lampe of light.

A Mirrour he the simple sort to traine,

That euer beate his brayne for Britans gaine.

By him the Nobles had their vertues blazde,

When spitefull death their honors liues had razde.

Eche that in life had well deserued aught,

By Surreys meanes an endles fame hath caught.

To quite his boone and aye well meaning minde,

Whereby he did his Sequell séeme to binde:

Though want of skill to silence me procures,

I write of him whose fame for aye endures,

A worthie Wight, a Noble for his race,

A learned Lorde that had an Earles place.

Of Ialousie.

A Straunge disease, a griefe excéeding great,

A man to haue his hart in flame inrolde,

[Page] In sort that he can neuer choose but sweate,

And féele his féete benumde with frosty colde.

No doubt if he continue in this heate,

He will become a Cooke hereafter olde,

Of such diseases such is the effect,

And this in him we may full well suspect.

To his Ladie, that by hap when he kissed hir and made hir lip bleed, controld him and tooke disdaine.

DIscharge thy dole,

Thou subtile soule,

It standes in little stéede

To cursse the kisse

That causer is

Thy chirrie lip doth bléede.

Thy bloud ascends

To make amends

For domage thou hast donne:

For by the same

I felt a flame

More scorching than the Sunne.

Thou reftst my harte

By secret Arte,

My sprites were quite subdude:

My Senses fled

And I was ded,

Thy lippes were scarce imbrude.

[Page] The kisse was thine,

The hurt was mine,

My hart felt all the paine:

Twas it that bled

And lookte so red,

I tell thée once againe.

But if you long

To wreake your wrong

Vpon your friendly fo:

Come kisse againe

And put to paine

The man that hurt you so.

Mayster Googe his Sonet.

ACcuse not God if fansie fonde

doe mooue thy foolish braine

To wayle for loue, for thou thy selfe

art cause of all the paine.

Turberuiles aunswere.

NOt God (friend Googe) ye Louer blames

as worker of his woes:

But Cupid that his fierie flames

so frantickly bestowes.

A comparison of the Louers estate with the Souldiars painefull lyfe.

JF Souldiers may for seruice done,

and labours long sustainde,

[Page] For wearie watch, and perils past,

and armes with armour painde:

For push of Pike, for Holbers stroke,

for standing in the frunt,

If they expect rewarde (I say)

for byding battayles brunt:

Then what shall Cupids Captaines craue,

what recompence desire,

That warde the day, and wake the night

consumde with fretting fire?

No roome of rest, no time of truce,

no pleading for a peace:

When Cupid sounds his warlike Trumpe,

the fight will neuer cease.

First shall you sée the shiuering shafts

and vewe the thirled darts

Which from their eies they cast by course

to pierce their enmies harts.

But if the Foe doe stande aloofe,

(as is the Louers guise)

Then Canons with their cruell cracks

as thick as thunder flies.

Swéete wordes in place of powder stande

by force which think to win,

That louing lookes of late had lost

when fight did first begin.

But on the breast to beare the brunt

and kéepe them from the hart,

[Page] A sure and priuie cote is worne

repelling pellats smart.

They stop their eares against the sound,

which is the surest shielde

Against the dreadfull shot of wordes

that thousandes had beguilde.

But when Cupidians flatly sée

nor gunne, nor Bowe preuaile,

They then begin their friendly foes

with other fight tassaile.

Then set the daskardes dreade aside,

and to the walles they run,

As though they woulde subdue the Forte

or ere the fight begun.

Forthwith the scaling Ladders come,

and to the walles are set,

Then sighes and sobs begin to clime,

but they are quickly met.

Thus Cupid and his Souldiers all

the sharpe repulse sustaine:

Whome Beauty batters from the walles

whose Captaine is Disdaine.

When all are gone and yéeld it lost,

comes Hope and whote Desire,

To sée where they can haue the hap

to set the Forte afire.

But nought preuailes their lingring fight,

they can not Beautie win:

[Page] Yet doe they skirmish still behinde

in hope to enter in.

At length when Beautie doth perceyue

those Souldiers are so true,

That they will neuer from the walles

till they the holde subdue:

She calles to Pittie for the keyes

and bids hir let them in:

In hope they will be true to hir

as they to Loue had bin.

The gates no sooner are vnlockt,

but souldiers all retire:

And enter into Beauties Forte

with Hope and hote Desire.

Now iudge by this that I haue saide

of these two fightes aright,

Which is the greatest toyle of both

when warlike Tents are pight.

For Mars his men sometime haue ease,

and from their battaile blin:

But Cupids souldiers euer serue

till they Dame Beautie win.

The Louer against one that compared his Mistresse with his Ladie.

A Madnesse to compare

the Pipler with the Pine,

[Page] Whereof the Mariner makes his Mast,

and hanges it all with line.

A follie to preferre

a Lampe before the Sunne,

Or brag that Balams lumpish Asse

with Bucephall shall runne.

Then cease for shame to vaunt,

and crowe in craking wise

Of hir that least deserues to haue

hir beauties fame arise.

Thou foolish Dame beware

of haughtie Peacocks pride:

The fruite thereof in former age

hath sundrie times bene tride.

Arachne can expresse

how angrie Pallas was,

When shée in néedle worke would séeme

the Heauenly Wight to passe.

The Spider shewes the spite

that shée (good wench) abid,

In token of hir pride shee hanges

at roufe by rotten thrid.

No foode shée hath allowde

lesse Fortune sende the Flie:

The Cobwed is hir costly Couch

appointed hir to lie.

Wich venim ranck and vile

hir wombe is like to burst,

[Page] A token of hir inwarde hate

and hawtie minde at furst.

And thou that surely thinkst

thy Ladie to excell,

Example take of others harme

for iudgement that befell:

When Pan the Pastors prince,

and Rex of Rustick route,

To passe Apollo in his play

and Musick went aboute:

Mount Tmolus was the Iudge

that there the roome possest,

To giue his verdite for them both

which vttered Musick best.

First came the Rustick forth

with Pipe and puffed bag,

That made his eies to run like streames,

and both his lips to wag.

The noyse was somewhat rude

and ragged to the eare:

The simplest man aliue would gesse

that pieuish Pan was there.

Then Phoebus framde his frets,

and wrested all his pinnes,

And on his curious strings to strike

the skilfull God beginnes.

So passing was his play

as made the trées to daunce,

[Page] And stubborne Rocks in déepest vales

for gladsome ioy to praunce.

Amphyon blusht as red

as any glowing flame:

And Orpheus durst not shew his face,

but hide his head for shame.

Ynough quoth Tmolus tho,

my iudgement is that Pan

May pipe among the ruder sort

that little Musick can.

Apollos playe doth passe

of all that ere I hearde:

Wherefore (as reason is) of mée

the Luter is preferde.

Meanewhile was Mydas prest,

not pointed Iudge in place:

But (lyke a dolt that went about

Apollo to deface)

Tushe Tmolus, tushe quoth hee,

Pan hath the better skill:

For hée the emptie bagge with winde

and strouting blast doth fill.

Apollo wagges his ioints

and makes a iarring sounde:

Lyke pleasure is not in the Lute

as in the Bagpipe founde.

No sooner had hée spoke

those witlesse wordes and sed,

[Page] But Phoebus graft on Asses eares

vpon his beastly hed.

In proofe of iudgement wrong

that Mydas did maintaine,

Hée had a paire of sowsing eares

to shilde him from the raine.

Wherefore (my Friende) take héede

of afterclaps that fall:

And déeme not hir a Dearling that

deserues no prayse at all.

Your iudgement is beguilde,

your Senses suffer shame:

That so doe séeke to blaze hir armes,

and to aduaunce hir fame.

Let hir go hide hir head

in lothsome lurking mue,

For crabbed Crowfoote marres hir face

and quite distaines hir hue.

The Louer to a Centlewoman, that after great friendship without desart or cause of mislyking refused him.

HAue you not heard it long ago

of cunning Fawkners tolde,

That Haukes which loue their kéepers call

are woorth their weight in Golde?

And such as knowe the luring voice

of him that féedes them still:

[Page] And neuer rangle farre abroade

against the kéepers will,

Doe farre excéede the haggarde Hauke

that stoopeth to no stale:

Nor forceth on the Lure awhit,

but mounts with euery gale?

Yes, yes, I know you know it well,

and I by proufe haue tride,

That wylde and haggard Hawkes are worse

than such as will abide.

Yet is there eke another kinde,

farre worser than the rest:

And those are they that flie at check,

and stoupe to erie gest.

They leaue the lawe that nature taught

and shun their woonted kinde,

In fléeing after erie Foule

that mounteth with the winde.

You know what I doe meane by this,

if not, giue eare a while:

And I shall shewe you my conceyte

in plaine and simple stile.

You were sometime a gentle Hawke,

and woont to féede on fist:

And knew my luring voice right well

and would repaire at list.

I could no sooner make a beck

or token with my hand,

[Page] But you would quickly iudge my will

and how the case did stand.

But now you are become so wylde

and rammage to be séene,

As though you were a haggard Hawke,

your maners altred cléene.

You now refuse to come to fist,

you shun my woonted call:

My luring lyketh not your eare,

you force mée not at all.

You flée with wings of often chaunge

at random where you please:

But that in time will bréede in you

some fowle and fell disease.

Liue like a haggard still therefore,

and for no luring care:

For best (I sée) contents thy minde

at wishe and will to fare.

So some perhaps will liue in hope

at length to light on thée,

That earst reclaimde so gentle werte

and louing birde to mée,

But if thou chaunce to fall to check,

and force on erie fowle,

Thou shalt be worse detested then,

than is the nightish Owle.

This counsell take of him that once

did kéepe thée at his beck:

[Page] But now giues vp in open field

for feare of filthie check.

The Louer obtayning his wishe by all likelyhode, yet not able to attaine his desire, compares himself to Tantalus.

OF Tantalus plight

The Poets wright,

Complayning

And fayning

In sorowfull sownding songes:

Who féeles (they saye)

For Apples gaye

Such payning,

Not gayning

The fruite for which hee longes:

For when hee thinkes to féede therone,

The fickle flattring Trée is gone:

And all in vaine hee hopes to haue

his famine to expell

The flitting fruite that lookes so braue

and likes his eie so well:

And thus his hunger doth increase,

And hée can neuer finde release.

As want of Meate

Doth make him freate

[Page] With raging,

And gaging,

To catch the fruite that flées:

Euen so for drythe

The Miser crythe,

Not swaging,

But waging,

For licour that hée sées:

For to his painefull partched mouth

The long desired water flouth,

And when he gapes full greedilie

vnthriftie thirst to slake,

The riuer wasteth spéedilie,

and away warde goes the Lake:

That all the licour from his lips

And dryed chaps away it slips.

This kinde of paine

Doth he sustaine,

Not ceasing,

Increasing,

His pittifull pining wo:

In plenties place,

Deuoide of grace,

Releasing,

Or ceassing

The pangs that pinch him so:

Of all the fretting fits of Hell

This Tantals torment is most fell:

[Page] For that the reast can haue no hope

their fréedome to attaine,

And he hath graunted him such scope

as makes the Myser faine:

But all for nought in fine it serues,

For he with dryth and hunger sterues.

Euen so fare I

That am as nie

My pleasure,

My treasure,

As I might wish to bée:

And haue at will

My Ladie still

At le [...]ure,

In measure,

As well it liketh mée.

The amorous blincks flée to and fro,

With sugred words that make a show

That fansie is well pleasde withall

and findes it selfe content:

Eche other friendly friend doth call

and eche of vs consent:

And thus we séeme for to possesse

Eche others hart and haue redresse.

We coll, we clip,

We kisse with lip,

Delighted,

Requighted,

[Page] And merily spend the day:

The tales I tell

Are fanside well,

Recited,

Not spited,

Thus weares the time away.

Looke what I like shée doth imbrace,

Shée giues good eare vnto my case

And yeeldes mee lawfull libertie

to frame my dolorus plaint,

To quite hir Friend from ieopardie

whome Cupid hath attaint:

Respecting nought at all his welth

But séeking meane to worke his helth.

I séeme to haue

The thing I craue,

Shée barres not,

Shée iarres not,

But with a verie good will

Shee heares my sute,

And for the frute

Shée warres not,

But dares not

To let me féede my fill.

Shée would (I know) with hart agrée,

The fault is neyther in hir nor mée,

I dare auowe full willinglie

shée would consent thereto,

[Page] And gladly would mée remedie

too banish away my wo:

Lo thus my wish I doe possesse,

And am a Tantal naythelesse.

For though I stande

And touch with hande

Allured,

Procured,

The Saint I doe desire:

And may be bolde

For to enfolde,

Assured,

Indured,

The Corps that I require:

Yet by no meanes may I attaine

To haue the fruite I would so faine

To rid mée from extremitie

and cruell oppressing care,

Euen thus with Tantals penaltie

my destnie may compare:

Who though endure excessiue paine,

Yet mine is not the least of twaine.

The Louer to the Thems of London to fauor his Ladie passing thereon.

THou stately Streame yt with the swelling Tide

Gainst London walles incessantly dost beate,

[Page] Thou Thems (I say) where barge & bote doth ride,

And snowhite Swans do fish for néedefull meate:

When so my Loue of force, or pleasure shall

Flit on thy floud as custome is to do:

Séeke not with dread hir courage to appall,

But calme thy tyde, and smoothly let it go:

As shée may ioy, arriude to siker shore

To passe the pleasant streame she did before.

To weltre vp and furge in wrathfull wise,

(As did the floud where Helle drenched was,)

Would but procure defame of thee to rise:

Wherefore let all such ruthlesse rigor passe,

So wish I that thou mayst with bending side

Haue powre for aye in woonted goulfe to glide.

To his Ring giuen to his Ladie, wherein was grauen this Verse. My hart is yours.

THough thou (my King) be small,

and slender be thy price:

Yet hast thou in thy compasse coucht

a Louers true deuice.

And though no Rubie red,

ne Turkesse trim thy top,

Nor other Iuell that commends

the golden Vulcans shop:

Yet mayst thou boldlye vaunt

and make a true report

[Page] For mée that am thy Mayster yet

in such a semblant sort,

That aye (my hart is hirs)

of thée I aske no more:

My Pen and I will shew the reast,

which yet I kéepe in store.

Be mindefull of thy charge,

and of thy Maysters case:

Forget not that (my hart is hirs)

though I be not in place.

When thou hast tolde thy tale

which is but short and swéete:

Then let my Loue coniect the reast

till she and I doe méete.

For as (my hart is hirs)

so shall it be for aye:

My hart, my hand, my lyfe, my limmes

are hirs till dying daye.

Yea when the spirite giues vp

and bodie breathes his last,

Say naythelesse (my hart is hirs)

when life and all is past.

Sit fast to hir finger,

But doe thou not wring her.

The dispairing Louer craues eyther mercie in time at his Ladies hands, or cruell death.

[Page]

LIke as the fearefull Fouls

within the Fawcons foote

Doth yéelde himselfe to die,

and sées none other boote:

Euen so dread I (my Deare)

least ruth in thée will want,

To mée that am thy thrall,

who fearing death doe pant.

So fast I am in Gyue

within your beauties Gayle,

As thence to make a breath

no engin may preuaile.

The hart within my breast

with trembling feare doth quake:

And saue your loue (my Deare)

nought can my torment slake.

To slea a yéelding pray

I iudge it not your kinde:

Your beautie bids mée hope

more ruth in you to finde.

Where Nature hath yformde

such featurde shape to showe,

There hath she closde in breast

a hart for grace to growe.

[Page] Wherefore my lingring paines

redresse with ruthfull hart:

And doe in time become

Phisition to my smart.

Oh showe thy selfe a friende

and Natures Impe to bee,

As thou a Woman art by kinde

to womans kinde agrée.

But if you can not finde

in hart my lyfe to saue,

But that you long to sée

your thrall lye deade in graue:

Sende mée the fatall toole,

and cruell cutting knife:

And thou shalt see me rid

my wretched limmes of life.

No lesse to like thy minde

than to abridge my smart:

Which were an yll rewarde

for such a good desart.

Of both I count it least

by cursed death to fall,

Than ruthlesse here to liue

and aye to be a thrall.

To his Friende to be constant after choise made.

WHat made Vlysses Wife

to be renowmed so?

[Page] What forced Fame hir endlesse brute

in blasting trumpe to blow?

What Cleopatra causde

to haue immortall prayse?

What did procure Lucrecias lande

to lasten to our dayes?

Cause they their plighted hestes

vnbroken aye reserude:

And planted Constance in their harts

from whome they neuer swerude.

What makes the Marble stone

and Diamond so deare?

Saue that the longest last of all,

and alwayes one appeare?

What makes the waxen forme

to be of slender price?

But cause with force of fire it melts

and wasteth with a trice.

Then if thou long for prayse

or blasted Fame to finde,

(My Friend) thou must not chaunge thy choyce

or turne lyke Cock with winde.

Be constant in thy worde

and stable in thy deede:

This is the readiest way to win

and purchase prayse with speede.

Counsell returned by Pyndara to Tymetes, of constancie.

[Page]

WHat made the Troyan Duke

that wandring Prince to haue

Such yll report, and foule defame

as him Carthago gaue?

What faythlesse Iason forcde

a Traytors name to gaine?

When he to Colchos came, and did

the golden Fleese attaine?

What Theseus causde to bée

reported of so yll,

As yet record thereof remaynes

(I think) and euer wyll?

Cause they their faithfull Friendes

that saude their doubtfull lyues

Forsooke at last, and did disdaine

to take them to their wyues,

They brake their vowed hestes,

by ship away they went:

And so betrayde those siely soules

that craft nor falsehood ment.

Wherefore if you (my Friend)

the like report will flée

Stand euer to the promise made,

and plighted troth to mée.

[Page] Those Dames of whome you spake

were constant (as you say)

But sure these Louers I alleage

vnfaithfull parts did play.

More cause haue I to doubt

of you (Tymetes) then,

For (as you sée) we Women are

more trustie than you men.

The Louers must not dispaire though their Ladies seeme straunge.

THough Neptune in his rage

the swelling Seas doe tosse,

And crack the Cables in dispite

to further shipmens losse:

Though Ancker holde doe fayle,

and Mysson go to wrack,

Though Sayles with blustring blast be rent,

and Keale begin to crack:

Yet those that are a boorde

and guide the ship with steare,

Although they sée such daungers prest

and perils to appeare:

Yet hope to light at last

vpon some harbour holde,

And finde a Porte where they to cast

their Anckers may be bolde.

[Page] Though Theeues be kept in Gayle

fast bound in surest Gyues,

They lay not all good hope aside

for sauing of their lyues.

They trust at length to sée

such mercie in the Iudge,

As they in open presence quit

may from the prison trudge,

And those for gréedie gaine

and hope of hidden Golde

In déepest Mynes and Dungeon darck

that byde the bitter colde:

In fine doe looke to light

vpon some Golden vaine,

Which may be thought a recompence

for all their passed paine.

The Ploughman eke that toyles

and turnes the ground for graine,

And sowes his séede (perhaps to losse)

yet standes in hope of gaine.

He will not once dispaire,

but hope till Haruest fall:

And then will looke assuredly

to stuffe his Barnes withall.

Since these in perils point

will neuer once dispaire,

Then why should Louers stand in dread

of stormes in weather faire?

[Page] Why should they haue mistrust

some better hap to finde,

Or think that Women will not chaunge

as is their woonted kinde?

Though straunge they seeme a while

and cruell for a space:

Yet sée thou hope at length by hap

to finde some better grace.

For Tygers will be tame,

and Lyons that were woode,

In time their kéepers learne to knowe

and come to them for foode.

What though they scorne as now

to listen to thy sute?

Yet thou in time when fortune serues

shalt reape some better frute.

And though thy sighes they scorne

and mock thy welling teares:

Yet hope (I say) for after stormes

the shining Sunne appeares.

And neuer cease to sue,

nor from lamenting stint:

For often drops of falling raine

in time doe pierce the Flint.

Was neuer stone so strong

nor womans hart so harde,

But thone with toole, and thother with teares

in processe might be scarde.

A Letter sent by Tymetes to his Ladie Pyndara at the time of his departure.

[Page]

OF Pennes I had good store,

ne Paper did I want

When I began to write to thée:

but Inck was somewhat scant.

Yet Loue deuisde a fetch,

a friendly sleight at néede:

For I with pointed Pensill made

my middle finger bléede.

From whence the bloud as from

a clouen Conduite flue,

And these fewe rude and skillesse lines

with quaking quill I drue.

Now Friend I must depart

and leaue this lyked lande:

Now canckred Hap doth force me take

a new founde toyle in hande.

Shée spites that I should liue,

or leade a quiet life:

Aye séeking how to bréede my bale

and make my sorrowes rife.

From whence I passe I knowe,

a place of pleasant blisse,

But wither I shall I wote not well,

I know not where it is.

[Page] Where she by Sea or Lande

me (cruell) will compell

To passe, or by the desart Dales,

were verie hard to tell.

But néedes I must away,

the Westerne winde doth blowe

So full against my back that I

of force from hence doe go.

Yet naythelesse in pawne

(O Friend) I leaue with you

A faithfull hart, that lasting lyfe

will shewe it selfe as true,

As loouing earst it hath:

and if mée trust you dare,

Fill vp the emptie place with yours,

if you the same may spare.

Inclose it in my breast,

in safetie shall it lie:

And thou shalt haue thy hart againe,

if I doe chaunce to die.

Thus dubble is your gaine,

a dubble hart to haue:

To purchase thée another hart,

and eke thine owne to saue.

Liue mindefull of thy Friend,

forget not promise past:

Be stoute against the stubborne strokes

of frowarde Fortunes blast.

[Page] Penelope be true

to thy Vlysses still:

Let no newe chosen Friend breake off

th [...]hréed of our good will.

Though I on seas doe passe,

the surge will haue no powre

To quench the flame that in my breast

increaseth day and howre.

[...]nd thus (the heart that is

your owne) doth wish thée well,

With good increase of blessed haps

sinister chaunce to quell.

Adue my chosen Friend,

if Fortune say Amen,

From hence I go thine owne, and will

thine owne returne agen.

Pyndaras aunswere to the Letter which Tymetes sent hir at the time of his departure.

WHen first thy Letters came

(O louing Friend) to mée,

I leapt for ioy, in hope to haue

receyude good newes of thée,

I neuer stayde vpon

those lines that were without:

But rashl [...]ript the Seale, to rid

my minde from dreadfull dout.

[Page] Which done (Oh cruell griefe)

I saw a mournefull sight:

This Verse (of Pennes I had good store)

with Purple bloud ywright.

With flouds of flowing teares

straight drowned were mine eies,

On eyther Chéeke they trickled fast

and ranne in riuer wies.

My minde did yll abode,

it yrkt to read the rest:

For when I saw the Inck was such,

I thought I saw the best.

Long stoode I in a dumpe,

my hart began to ake:

My Liuer leapt within my bulck,

my trembling hands did shake.

My Senses were bereft,

my bowing knées did bende:

Out from my Nose the bloud it brake,

much like the Letter pende.

Vp start my staring Locks,

I lay for dead a space:

And what with bloud and brine I all

bedewde the dréerie place.

From out my féeble fist

fell Néedle, cloth and all,

I knewe no Wight, I saw no Sunne,

as deafe as stone in wall.

[Page] At last when standers by

had brought my Sense againe,

And force of life had conquerd griefe

and banisht deadly paine:

I thought the worst was past,

I déemde I could abide

No greater torment than I had,

vnlesse I should haue dide.

To vewing then againe

of bloudie lynes I go:

And euer as I read the words,

mee thought I saw the blo.

Which pointed Pensell gaue,

from whence that dolefull Inck

As from a clouen Conduit flue:

remembrance make me shrinck.

Oh Friend Tymetes why

so cruell were thou than?

What didst thou meane to hurt thy flesh

thou rash and retchlesse man?

What? didst thou déeme that I

could vew that gorie scrole

Withouten anguish of the minde?

or think vpon the hole

Of that thy friendly fist

and finger that did bléede?

No, no, I haue a W [...] hart,

I am no Tygers sée [...]

[Page] As great a griefe it was

for me to think in hart

Of thy mishap, as if my selfe

had felt the present smart.

O cruell cursed want

of fitter Inck to write:

Good fayth that lycour was vnméete

such louing lines tindite.

But yet in some respect

it fitted with the case:

For (out alas) I read therein

that thou hast fled the place,

Where friendly we were woont

like faithfull friends to bee:

Where thou moughtst that with me thy fill

and I conferre with thée.

Oh spitefull cruell Chaunce,

oh cursed canckred Fate:

Art thou a Goddesse (Monster vile)

deseruing stoole of State?

O blinde and muffled Dame,

couldst thou not sée to spare

Two faithfull harts, but reauing thone

must bréede the others care?

No woonder tis that thou

dost stande on whirling whéele:

For by thy déedes thou dost declare

thou canst doe nought but reele.

[Page] Art thou of Womans kinde

and ruthfull Goddesse race,

And hast no more respect vnto

a sielie womans case?

Auaunt thou froward Fiend,

thou so my Friend dost driue

From shore well knowne to forraine coast

our sugred ioyes to riue.

If so thy minde be bent

that my Tymetes shall

Depart the presence of his Friend:

Yet so doe guide the ball

As he at lande may liue

not trying surge of seas:

Nor ship him from the Hauens mouth

to bréede him more vncase.

(Good Friend) aduenture not

so rashly on the floud,

As earst thou didst in writing of

this Letter with thy bloud.

Séeke not tincrease my cares

or dubble griefe begoon:

Think of Leanders bolde attempt

the lyke distresse to shoon.

What suretie is in ship?

what trust in Oken plancks?

What credit doe the windes deserue

at lande that play such prancks?

[Page] If houses strongly built,

and Towers battled hie,

By force of blast be ouerthrowne

when Aeols Impes doe flie:

In puffing windes the Pine

and aged Oke doe teare,

And from the bodies rent the boughes

and loftie lugges they beare:

Then why shouldst thou affie

in Keale or Cable so,

Or hazard thus thy selfe vpon

the tossing Seas to go?

Hast thou not heard of yore

how good Vlysses was

With stormie tempest chased sore

when he to Greece did passe?

A wearie trauaile hée

for ten yeares space abid.

And all the while this noble Greeke

on waltring wallow slid.

Hast thou not read in Bookes

of fell Charybdis Goulfe,

And Scyllas Dogs, whome ships doe dread

as Lambes doe feare the Woulfe?

Nor of the raggie Rocks

that vnderlurck the waue?

And rent the Barcks that Aeols blasts

into their bosome draue?

[Page] Not of the Monsters huge

that belch out frothie fleame,

And singing Sirens that doe drowne

both man and ship in streame?

Alas the thought of Seas,

and of thy passage paines

(If once thou gage thy selfe to surge)

my hart and members straines.

The present fits of feare

of afterclaps to cum.

Amaze my louing tender breast

and Senses doe benum.

But néedes thou must away,

(oh Friend) what hap is this

That ere thou flie this friendly coast

thy lips I can not kisse?

Nor with my folded armes

imbrace that neck of thine:

Nor clap vnto thy manly breast

these louing Dugs of mine?

Not shed my trilling teares

vpon thy moisted face?

Nor say to thée (Tymet adue)

when thou departst the place?

O that I had thy forme

in waxen table now,

To represent thy liuely lookes

and friendly louing brow.

[Page] That mought perhaps abridge

some part of pinching paine:

And comfort me till better chaunce

did sende thée home againe.

Both winde and waue atonce

conspire to worke my wo,

Or esse thou shouldst not so be forst

from me (thine owne) to go.

O wayward Westerne blast

what didst thou meane so full

Against Tymetes back to blow,

and him from hence to pull?

Hast thou bene counted earst

a gentle gale of winde,

And dost thou now at length bewray

thy fierce and frowarde kinde?

I thought the Northren blast

from frostie Pole that came

Had bene the worst of all the windes

and most deserued blame.

But now I plainely sée

that Poets did but faine:

When they of Borias spake so yll

and of his cruell raigne.

For thou of Aeols brats

thy selfe the worst dost showe:

And hauing no iust cause to rage

to soone beginst to blowe.

[Page] If néedes thou wouldst haue vsde

thy force and fretting moode,

Thou shouldst haue broyld among the trées

that in the Mountaines stoode:

And let vs friends alone

that liude in perfite blisse.

But to request the windes of ruth

but labor lost it is.

Well (Friend) though cruell hap

and windes did both agrée,

That thou on sodaine shouldst forgo

both countrie coast and mée:

Yet haue I founde the pawne

which thou didst leaue behinde:

I meane thy louing faithfull hart,

that neuer was vnkinde.

And for that firme behest

and plighted truth of youre,

Wherein you vow that loue begoon

shall to the death endure:

To yeelde thée thy demaunde

my written lines protest,

Inclose my hart within thy bulck

as I will thine in brest.

Shrine vp that little lumpe

of friendly flesh (my Friend)

And I will lodge in louing wise

the guest that thou didst send.

[Page] I ioy at this exchaunge:

for I assured stande,

Thy tender hart that I doe kéepe

shall safelie lie at lande.

Nor doe I doubt at all

but thou wilt haue regarde

Of that thy charge, and womans hart

committed to thy warde.

Why dost thou write of death?

I trust thou shalt not die,

As long as in thy manly breast

a womans hart doth lie.

To cruell were the case,

the Sisters eake were shroes:

If they woulde séeke the death of vs.

that are such friendly foes.

But if the worst shoulde fall,

and that the cruell death

Doe stop the spindles of our life,

and reaue vs both of breath:

Yet this doth make me ioy,

that thou shalt be the graue

Vnto my hart, and in my brest

thy hart is Hierce shall haue.

For sure a sunder shall

these members neuer go.

As long as life in lims doth lodge

and breath in lungs bylow.

[Page] I mindefull liue of thée

and of my promise past:

I will not séeke to chaunge my choise,

my loue is fixed fast.

To my Tymetes I

as faithfull will be found:

As to Vlysses was his wife

whilst Troie was laide on ground.

As for new choise of Friends,

presume vpon thy P.

Thou knowst I haue thy hart in breast

and it will none but thee.

Abandon all distrust

and dread of mistie minde:

For to the hart (that is mine owne)

I will not be vnkinde.

Adue my chosen Friend,

Adue to thée agen:

Remaine my loue, but pray the write

no more with bloudie Pen.

Thine owne in life, thine owne in death,

Thine owne whilst lungs shall lende me breath:

Thine owne whilst I on earth doe wonne

Thine owne whilst eie shall see the Sonne.

To his absent Friend the Louer writes of his vnquiet and restlesse state.

[Page]

THough curious skill I want to wel endite,

And I of sacred Nymphes and Muses nine

Was neuer taught wt Poets pen to write,

Nor barrain braine to learning did incline

To purchase prayse, or with the best to shine:

Yet cause my Friend shall finde no want of will,

I write, let hir accuse the lack of skill.

No lesse deserues the Lambe to be imbrast

Of lowring Ioue at sacred Altar slaine,

If with good zeale it offred be at last

By Irus, that doe Craesus Bullocks twaine:

For no respect is to be had of gaine

In such affayres, but to the giuers hart

And his good will our Senses must conuart.

Wherfore to thée (my Friend) these lines I send

As perfite proufe of no dissembling minde,

But of a hart that truely doth intend

To shew it selfe as louing and as kinde,

As woman woulde hir Louer wish to finde:

And more than this my Paper can declare,

I loue thee (Friend) and wishe thée well to fare.

I would thou wist the torment I sustaine

For lack of hir that should my wo redresse,

And that you knew some parcell of my paine,

[Page] Which none may well by déeming iudgemēt gesse,

Nor I with quill haue cunning to expresse:

I know thou couldst but rue my wofull chaunce,

That by thy meanes was brought into this traunce

The day doth bréede my doole, and ranckling rage

Of secret smart in wounded breast doth boyle,

No pleasant pangue my sorrowes may asswage,

Nor giue an ende vnto my wofull toyle:

The golden Sunne that glads the earthly soyle,

And erie other thing that bréedes delight

Of kinde, to mee are forgers of my spite.

I long for Phoebus glade and going downe,

My drearie teares more couertly to shed:

But when the night with vglie face doth frowne,

And that I am yplaste in quiet bed,

In hope to be with wished pleasure fed:

A greater griefe, a worser paine ensues.

My vaporde eies their hoped sléepe refues.

Then rowle I in my déepe dispayring brest

The [...]wéete disdaines, and pleasant anger past,

The louely strifes: when Stars doe counsell rest

Incroching cares renue my griefe as faste,

And thus desired night in wo I waste:

And to expresse the harts excessiue paine,

Mine eies their deawie teares distill amaine.

And reason why they should be moysted so,

Is for they bred my hart this bitter bale:

They were the onely cause of cruell wo

[Page] Vnto the hart, they were the guilefull stale.

Thus day and night ytost with churlish Gale

Of sighes in Sea of surging brine I bide

Not knowing how to scape the scowring Tide.

At last the shining Rayes of Hope to finde

Your friendship firme, these cloudy thoughts repel▪

And calmed Skie returnes to mistie minde:

Which déepe dispaire againe eftsoone compels

Too fade, and ease by Dolours drift expels:

That Gods themselues (I iudge) lament my fate,

And doe repine to see my wofull state.

Wherefore to purchace prayse, and glorie gaine.

Do ease your Friend that liues in wretched plight,

Doe not to death a louing hart constraine,

But séeke with loue his seruice to requight,

Doe not exchaunge a Fawcon for a Kite:

Refuse him not for any friendship nue

A worse may chaunce, but none more iust and true

Let Cressed myrror hée that did forgo

Hir former faythfull friend King Priams Sonne,

And Diomed the Gréeke imbraced so,

And left the loue so well that was begonne:

But when hir Cards were tolde and twist ysponne

She found hir Troian Friend the best of both

For he renounst hir not, but kept his oth.

This don, my griping griefs will sōwhat swage

And sorrow cease to grow in pensiue breast,

Which otherwise will neuer blin to rage

[Page] And crush the hart within his carefull Cheast

Of both for you and mée it were the best,

To saue my life and win immortall fame,

And thus my Muse shall blase your noble name

For ruine on my wofull case.

The aunswere of a woman to hir Louer, supposing his complaint to be but fayned.

YOu want no skill to paint

or shew your pangues with Pen,

It is a worlde to sée the craft

that is in subtile men.

You séeme to write of woes

and wayle for deadly smart,

As though there were no griefe, but that

which gripes your faythlesse hart.

Though we but Women are

and weake by lawe of kinde,

Yet well we can discerne a Friende,

we winke, but are not blinde.

Not euery thing that giues

a gleame and glittering showe,

Is to be counted Gold in déede

this prouerb well you knowe:

Nor euery man that beares

a faire and fawning cheere,

[Page] Is to be taken for a Friend

or chosen for a Feere:

Not euerie teare declares

the troubles of the hart,

For some doe wéepe that feele no wo

some crie that taste no smart.

The more you séeme to me

in wofull wise to playne,

The sooner I perswade my selfe

that you doe nought but fayne.

The Crocodile by kinde

a floud of teares doth shed

Yet hath no cause of cruell crie

by craft, this Fiend is led.

For when the siely soule

that ment no hurt at all

Approcheth néere, the slipper ground

doth giue the beast a fall,

Which is no sooner done

but straight the monster vyle,

For sorrow that did wéepe so sore

for ioy beginnes to smyle:

Euen so you men are woont

by fraude your friends to traine

And make in wise you could not sléepe

in carefull Couch for paine:

When you in déede doe nought

but take your nightly nap,

[Page] Or hauing slept doe set your snare

and tylle your guilefull trap.

Your braynes as busie bée

in thinking how to snare

Vs women, as your pillowes soft

and bowlsters pleasant are.

As for your dayes delights

our selues can witnesse well

To sundrie women sundrie tales

of sundrie iestes you tell:

And all to win their loues:

which when you doe attaine

Within a while you shew your kindes

and giue them vp in plaine.

A Fawcon is full hard

amongst you men to finde,

For all your maners more agrée

vnto the Kytish kinde:

For gentle is the one

and loues his kéepers hande,

But thother Busserdlike doth scorne

on Fawckners fist to stande.

For one good turne the one

a thousand will requite,

But vse the other nere so well

he shewth himselfe a Kite.

If Cresyd did amisse

the Troian to forsake

[Page] Then Dyom edes did not well

that did the Ladie take.

Was neuer woman false,

but man as false as shée

And commonly the men doe make

that women slipper bée.

Wherefore leaue off your plaints

and take the shéete of shame

To shrowde your cloking harts from colde

and fayning browes from blame.

Yf she that reades this rime,

be wise as I coulde wishe,

She will auoyde the bayted hooke

that takes the biting fishe.

And shoon the lymed twig

the flying Foule that tyes

Tis good to feare of crie bush

where thréed of thraldome lyes.

The Louer exhorteth his Ladie to take time, while time is.

THough braue your Beautie be

and feature passing faire,

Such as Apelles to depaint

might vtterly dispaire:

Yet drowsie drouping Age.

incroching on apace,

[Page] With pensiue Plough will raze your hue

and Beauties beames deface.

Wherefore in tender yeares

how crooked Age doth haste

Reuoke to minde, so shall you not

your minde consume in waste.

Whilst that you may, and youth

in you is fresh and gréene,

Delight your selfe: for yeares to fit

as fickle flouds are séene.

For water slipped by

may not be callde againe:

And to reuoke forepassed howres

were labour lost in vaine.

Take time whilst time applies

with nimble foote it goes:

Nor to compare with passed Prime

thy after age suppoes.

The holtes that now are hoare,

both bud and bloume I sawe:

I ware a Garlande of the Bryer

that puts me now in awe.

The time will be when thou

that doste thy Friends defie,

A colde and crooked Beldam shalt

in lothsome Cabbin lie:

Nor with such nightlie brawles

thy posterne Gate shall sounde,

[Page] Nor Roses strawde afront thy dore

in dawning shall be founde.

How soone are Corpses (Lorde)

with filthie furrowes fild?

How quickly Beautie, braue of late,

and séemely shape is spild?

Euen thou that from thy youth

to haue bene so, wilt sweare:

With turne of hand in all thy head

shalt haue graye powdred heare.

The Snakes with shifted skinnes

their lothsome age dooway:

The Buck doth hang is head on pale

to liue a longer day.

Your good without recure

doth passe, receiue the flowre:

Which if you pluck not from the stalke

will fall within this howre.

The Louer wisheth to be conioyned and fast linckt with his Ladie neuer to sunder.

J Reade how Salmacis sometime with sight

On sodaine looude Cyllenus Sonne, and sought

Forthwith with all hir powre and forced might

Too bring to passe hir close conceyued thought:

Whome as by hap she saw in open mead

She sude vnto, in hope to haue bene spead.

[Page] With sugred words she wood & sparde no speach,

But bourded him with many a pleasant tale,

Requesting him of, ruth to be hir Leach

For whome she had abid such bitter bale:

But hée repleate with pride and scornefull cheare

Disdainde hir earnest sute and songs to heare.

Away shée went a wofull wretched Wight,

And shrowded hir not farre from thence a space:

When that at length the stripling law in sight

No creature there, but all were out of place,

Hée shifts his robes and to the riuer ran,

And there to bath him bare the Boy began.

The Nymph in hope as then to haue attainde

Hir long desired Loue, retirde to flood

And in hir armes the naked Noorie strainde:

Whereat the Boy began to striue a good,

But strugling nought auailed in that plight

For why the Nymph surpast the Boy in might.

O Gods (quoth tho the Girle) this gift I craue

This Boy and I may neuer part againe,

But so our corpses may conioyned haue

As one we may appeare, not bodies twaine:

The Gods agreed, the water so it wrought,

As both were one, thy selfe would so haue thought.

As from a trée we sundrie times espie.

A twissell grow by Natures subtile might,

And being two, for cause they grow so nie

For one are tane, and so appeare in sight.

[Page] So was the Nymph and Noorie ioynde yfere,

As two no more but one selfe thing they were.

O Ladie mine, howe might we seeme ybest?

How friendly mought we Gods account to bée?

In semblant sort if they woulde bréede my rest

By lincking of my carkasse vnto thée?

So that we might no more a sunder go,

But limmes to limmes, & corse to carkasse grow?

O, where is now become that blessed Lake

Wherein those two did bath to both their ioy?

How might we doe, or such prouision make

To haue the hap as had the Maiden Boy?

To alter forme and shape of either kinde,

And yet in proufe of both a share to finde?

Then should our limmes wt louely linck be tide,

And harts of hate no taste sustaine at all,

But both for aye in perfite league abide

And eche to other liue as friendly thrall:

That thone might feele the pangues the other had

And partner be of ought that made him glad.

O blessed Nymph, O. Salmacys I saye,

Would thy good luck vnto hir lot would light

Whome I imbrace, and louen shall for aye,

By force of flood to chaunge hir nature quight:

And that I might haue hap as had the Boy

To neuer part from hir that is my Ioy.

I would not striue, I would not stirre a whit,

(As did Cyllenus Sunne that stately Wight:)

[Page] But well content to be Hermaphrodit,

Would cling as close to thée as ere I might,

And laugh to thinke my hap so good to bée,

As in such sort fast to be linckt with thée.

The Louer hoping assuredly of attaining his purpose, after long sute, begins to ioy renouncing dolors.

BE farre from mée you wofull woonted cries,

Adue Dispaire, that madste my hart agries:

Ye sobbing sighes farewel & pensiue plaint,

Resigne your roomes to ioy, ye long restraint

Without desart endurde.

Reiect those ruthfull Rymes yu (quaking Quill)

Which both declarde my wo and want of skill:

(Mine eies) that long haue had my Loue in chase,

With teares no more imbrue your Mystresse face

But to your Springs retyre.

And thou (my Hart) that long for lark of Grace

Forepinde hast bene and in a doolefull case,

Lament no more, let all such gripings go

As bred thy bale, and nurst thy cankred wo

With milke of mournefull Dug.

To Venus doe your due (you Senses all)

And to hir Sonne to whome you are in thrall:

To Cupid bend thy knée and thankes repay

That after lingred sute, and long delay

Hath brought thy ship to shore.

[Page] Let crabbed Fortune now expresse hir might,

And doe thy worst to mée thou stinging spite:

My hart is well defenst against your force,

For she hath vowde on mée to haue remorce

Whome I haue looude so long.

Henceforth exchaunge thy chéere and wofull voice

That hast yfounde such matter to reioice:

With mirrie quill and pen of pleasant plight

Thy blisfull haps and fortune to endight

Enforce thy barraine Skull.

The Louer to his carefull bed declaring his restlesse state.

THou that wert earst a restfull place

dost now renue my smart,

And woonted eake to salue my sore

that now increasest wo,

Vnto my carefull Corse an ease,

a torment to my hart,

Once quieter of minde perdie,

now an vnquiet fo:

The place sometime of slumbring sléepe

wherein I may but wake,

Drenched in Sea of saltish brine

(O bed) I thée forsake.

¶No Ise of Apenynus top

my flaming fire may quent,

[Page] Ne heate of brightest Phoebus beames

may bate my chillie colde,

Nought is of stately strength ynough

my sorrowes to relent,

But (such is hap) renewed cares

are added to the olde:

Such furious fits and fonde affects

in mée my fansies make,

That bathed all in trickling teares

(O bed) I thée forsake.

¶The dreames that daunt my dazed hed

are pleasant for a space,

Whilst yet I lie in slumbring sléepe

my carkasse feeles no wo,

For cause I séeme with clasped armes

my Louer to imbrace:

But when I wake, and finde away

that did delight me so,

Then in comes care to pleasures place

that makes my limmes to quake,

That all besprent with brackish bryne

(O bed) I thee forsake.

¶No sooner stirres Auroras Starre,

the lightest Lampe of all,

But they that rousted were in rest

not fraught with fearefull dreames,

Do pack apace to labours left

and to their taske doe fall:

[Page] When I awaking all inragde

doe baine my breast with streames,

And make my smokie sighes to Skies

their vpwarde way to take,

Thus with a surge of teares bedewde

(O bed) I thée forsake.

¶Thus hurlde from hungrie Hope by Hap

I die, yet am aliue,

From pangues of plaint to fits of fume

my restlesse minde doth runne,

With rage and fansie Reason fights,

they altogither striue,

Resistaunce vayleth naught at all,

for I am quickly wunne:

Thus séeking rest no ruth I finde

that gladsome ioy may make,

Wherefore consumde with flowing teares

(O bed) I thée forsake.

¶ An Epitaph and wofull verse of the death of sir Iohn Tregonwell Knight, and learned Doctor of both Lawes

ANd can you cease from plaint,

or kéepe your Conduits drie?

May saltish brine within your breasts

in such a tempest lie?

Where are your scalding sighes

the fittest foode of paine?

[Page] And where are now thy welling teares

I aske thée once againe?

Hast thou not heard of late

The losse that hath befell?

If not, my selfe (vnhappie Wight)

will now begin to tell:

(Though griefe perhaps will grutch,

and stay my foltring tongue)

From whence this ragged roote of ruth

and mourning moode is sprong.

Was dwelling in this shéere

a man of worthie fame:

A Iusticer for his desart,

Tregonwell was his name.

A Doctor at the Lawes,

a Knight among the mo:

A Cato for good counsell callde

as he in yeares did grow.

A Patrone to the poore,

a Rampire to the rest:

As léefe vnto the simple sorte

as friendly to the best.

No blinde affect his eie

in iudgement blearde at all:

Whose rightous verdit and decrée

was quite deuoyde of gall.

If he in hatefull hartes

(where roote of rancour grew)

[Page] Of faythfull friendship séedes might sow,

no paines he would eschew.

Minerua thought of like

and Nature did consent,

To proue in him by skilfull Arte

what eyther could inuent.

A plot of such a price

was neuer framde before:

To show their powre the Heauens had

Tregonwell kept in store.

The Prince did him imbrace,

and sought him to aduaunce,

And better former state of birth

by furthering of his chaunce.

He still was readie bent

his seruice to bestowe,

Thereby vnto his natiue soyle

if gratefull gaine might growe.

If sage aduise were scarce

and wholesome counsell scant,

Then should you sée Tregonwels helpe

ne wisedome would not want.

When Legats came from farre

(as is there woonted guise)

To treate of truce, or talke of warre

as matters did arise:

Tregonwell then was callde

his verdit to expresse:

[Page] Who for the most part in the case

of fruitfull things could gesse.

Or if himselfe were sent

(which hap Tregonwell had)

Into a farre and forraine lande,

then was Tregonwell glad.

For so he might procure

wealepublick by his paine:

It was no corsie to this Knight

long trauaile to sustaine.

But what? vndaunted death

that séekes to conquer all,

And Atropos that Goddesse sterne

at length haue spit their gall:

And reft vs such a one

as was a Phoenix true,

Saue that now of his cindrie Corfe

there riseth not a nue.

Where may you sée his match?

where shall you find his leeke?

None, though you from the farthest East

vnto the Ocean séeke.

O house without thy head,

O ship without a steare:

Thy Palynurus now is dead

as shortly will appeare.

In daunger of distresse

this Knight was euer woont

[Page] To yéelde himselfe to perils prest,

and bide the greatest broont.

No tumults tempest could

subdue his constant hart:

Ne would the man by any meanes

once from his countrie start.

But (oh) it naught auailes,

for death doth strike the stroke

In things humaine, no worldly wealth

his friendship may prouoke.

Let Troians now leaue off

by mourning to lament

The losse of Priam and his towne,

when ten yeares warre was spent.

Yée Romaines lay your Hoods

and black attire away:

Bewaile no more your Fabians fall

nor that sinister day

That rest a Noble race

which might haue florisht long:

For neither losse is like to this

our not deserued wrong.

Now Cornewall thou mayst crake,

and Dorset thou mayst erie:

For thone hath bred, and thother lost

Tregonwell sodainelie.

Whose corps though earthed bée

in lothsome lumps of soyle,

[Page] His péerelesse prayse by vertue woon

shall neuer feare the foyle.

Who so therefore shalt sée

this Marble where he lies:

Wish that Tregonwels soule may finde

a place aboue the Skies,

And reach a rowme of rest

appointed for the nones:

For in this Tombe interred is

but flesh and bared bones.

The Louer confesseth himselfe to be in Loue and enamored of Mistresse. P.

IF banisht sléepe, and watchfull care,

If minde affright with dreadfull dreames:

If torments rife, and pleasure rare,

If face besmearde with often streames:

If chaunge of cheare from ioy to smart,

If altred hue from pale to red:

If foltring tongue with trembling hart,

If sobbing sighes with furie fed:

If sodaine hope by feare opprest,

If feare by hope supprest againe,

Be prooues that loue within the brest

Hath bound the hart with fansies chaine:

Then I of force no longer may

In couert kéepe my piersing flame,

[Page] Which euer doth it selfe bewray

But yeelde my selfe to fansies frame.

And now in fine to be a thrall

To hir that hath my hart in Gyue,

Shée may enforce me rise or fall

Till Death my limmes of life depriue.

P. with hir beautie hath bereft

My fréedome from my thralled minde,

And with hir louing lookes ycleft

My reason through both Barke and Rinde.

Yet well therewith I am content

In minde to take it paciently,

Since sure I am she will relent

And not enforce hir Friende to die.

So I in recompence may haue

Naught but a faithfull hart againe:

Then other friendship nill I craue,

But think my loue ylent to gaine.

That all things haue release of paine saue the Louer, that hoping and dreading neuer taketh ease.

WHat so the Golden Sunne

beholdes with blazing light,

When paine is past hath time to take

his comfort and delight.

The Oxe with lumpish pace

and leasure that doth drawe,

[Page] Hath respite after toyle is past

to fill his emptie mawe.

The lolearde Asse that beares

the burden on his back.

His dutie done to stable plods,

and reacheth to the rack.

The Déere hath woonted soyle

his feruent heate to swage:

When woorke hath ende to respite runnes

the Peasant and the Page.

The Owle that hates the day

and loues to flée by night,

Hath queachie bushes to defende

him from Apollos sight.

Eche Cunnie hath a Caue,

eche little Foule a Nest

To shrowde them in at néedefull times

to take their néedefull rest.

Thus vewing course of kinde

it is not on the grounde,

That at some time doth not resort

where is his comfort founde:

Saue me (O cursed man)

whome neither Sunne ne shade

Doth serue the burthen of my breast

and sorrowes to vnlade.

Eche sport porcures my smart,

eche seemely sight annoy:

[Page] Eche pleasant tune torments mine ease

and reaues my hoped ioy.

No Musick soundes so swéete

as doth the doolefull Drum,

For somewhat neare vnto my smart

that mournefull sounde doth cum.

A Gally slaue I séeme

vnto my selfe to bée:

The Mayster that doth guide the ship

hath neare an eie to sée.

You know where such a one

as Cupid is doth steare,

Amid the Goulfe of déepe dispaire

great perill must appeare.

In steade of streaming sayles

hee Wisshes hanges aloft:

Which if in tempest chaunce to teare

the Barck will come to nought.

For winde are scalding sighes

and secret sobbings prest:

Mixt with a cloude of stormie teares

to baine the Louers brest.

Though Cupid neare so well

his beaten Barck doe guie,

By fléeing flats and sinking sandes

that in the wallow lie:

Yet those that are a boorde

must euer stande in awe,

[Page] For cause a Bussard is their guide

not forcing any flawe:

That followes none aduice,

but bluntly runnes on hed,

As proude as Peacock ouer those

that in his chaine or led.

Thus may you plainely sée

that eche thing hath release

Of pensiue paine, saue Cupids thralls

whose torments aye increase.

A poore Ploughman to a Gentleman, for whome he had taken a little paines.

YOur Culter cuts the soyle that earst was sowne

Your Haruest was forereaped long agoe,

Your Sickle sheares the Medowe yt was mowne,

Ere you the toyle of Tilmans trade did knowe:

Good fayth you are beholding to the man

That so for you your husbandrie began.

Hee craues of you no Siluer for his Séede,

Ne doth demaunde a penny for his Graine,

But if you stande at any time in néede,

(Good Maister) be as bolde with him againe.

You can not doe a greater pleasure than

To choose you such a one to be your man.

To his Friende: P. of courting, trauailing, Dysing, and Tenys.

[Page]

TO liue in Court among the Crue is care,

Is nothing there but dayly diligence,

Nor Cap nor Knée, nor money must thou spare,

The Prince his Haule is place of great expence.

In rotten ribbed Barck to passe the Seas

The forraine landes and straungie sites to sée,

Doth daunger dwell: the passage bréedes vnease,

Not safe the soyle, the men vnfriendly bée.

Admit thou sée the straungest things of all?

When eie is turnde the pleasant sight is gone:

The treasure then of trauaile is but small,

Wherefore (Friende P.) let all such toyes alone.

To shake the bones, and cog the craftie Dice,

To Carde in care of sodaine losse of Pence,

Vnséemely is, and taken for a vice:

Vnlawfull play can haue no good pretence.

Too band the Ball doth cause ye Coine to wast,

It melts as Butter doth against the Sunne,

Naught saue thy paine, whē play doth cease, yt hast:

Too studie then is best when all is donne.

For studie stayes and brings a pleasant gaine,

When play doth passe as glare wt gushing raine.

The Louer declares that vnlesse he vtter his sorrowes by sute, of force he dyeth.

[Page]

LYke as the Gunne that hath to great a charge,

And Pellet to the Powder ramde so sore,

As neyther of both hath powre to go at large,

Till shiuerd flawes in sounding Skies doe rore:

Euen so my carefull breast that fraughted is

With Cupids ware, & cloide with lurcking Loue,

Vnlesse I shoulde disclose my drerinis,

And out of hande my troubled thoughts remoue:

A sunder woulde my cumbred Carcasse flee,

The hart would breake the ouercharged Chace

Of pensiue breast, and you (my Loue) should sée

Your faythfull Friende in lamentable case.

Wherefore doe what you may in gentle wyes

The Gunner to assist in time of neede,

And when you see the Pellet pierce the Skyes,

And Powder make a proufe of hidden gleede:

Rue on his case, and séeke to quite his wo,

Least in short time his Gunne too péeces go.

The Louer to a Friende that wrote him this sentence. Yours assured to the death.

O Faithfull Friend thrise happy was the fist

In so few words to such effect that wrought:

[Page] O friendly hart a thousand folde yblist

That hath conceiude so iust and ioyful thought,

As not till death from pawned loue to bende

But Friend at first and Frind to be at ende.

Wherfore to counteruaile those woords of thine,

And quit thy loue with faithfull hart againe,

I vow that I will neuer once decline

A foote from that I am for losse or gaine:

If thou be mine till death, I the assure

To be thy Friend as long as life shall dure.

Of certaine Flowers sent him by his Loue vpon suspicion of chaunge

YOur Flowers for their hue

were fresh and faire to see:

Yet was your meaning not so true

as you it thought to bée.

In that you sent me Bame,

I iudge you ment thereby,

That cleane extinct was all my flame

from whence no sparckes did flie.

Your Fenell did declare

(as simple men can show)

That flattrie in my breast I bare

where friendship ought to grow.

A Daysie doth expresse

great follie to remaine,

[Page] I speake it not by roate or gesse,

your meaning was so plaine.

Rosemarie put in minde

that Bayes weare out of thought:

And Loueinydle came behinde

for Loue that long was sought.

Your Cowslips did portende

that care was layde away:

And Eglantyne did make an ende

where swéete with sower lay:

As though the leaues at furst

were swéete when Loue began:

But now in proofe the pricks were curst,

and hurtfull to the Man.

The Aunswere to the same.

PErdie I néede no Bame

ne forced heate by charme,

To set my burning breast in flame

whom Cupids gleames doe warme,

On Bayes is my delight,

Remembrance is not past:

Though Daysie hit the nayle aright,

my Friendship aye shall last.

Though Loue in ydle bée,

yet will I not forgoe

Ne cast off care as you shall sée,

and time the trouth shall showe.

[Page] So I may taste the swéete,:

I force not on the sowre

The more is ioy when Friends doe méete,

that Fortune earst did lowre.

Your Fenell failed quight

where such good fayth is ment:

For Bayes are onely my delight

though I for Bayes be shent.

Of a Foxe that woulde eate no Grapes.

BY fortune came a Foxe,

where grue a loftie Vine,

I will no Grapes (quoth hée)

this yarde is none of mine:

The Foxe would none bicause that hée

Perceiude the highnesse of the Trée.

¶ So men that Forlie are,

and long their lust to haue,

But cannot come thereby,

make wise they would not craue:

Those subtill Marchants will no Wine

Bicause they cannot reach the Vine.

Of the straunge countenaunce of an aged Gentlewoman.

JT makes me laugh a good to sée thée lowre,

and long to looken sad:

[Page] For when thy crabbed countnance is so sowre,

thou art to séeming glad.

I blame not thée but nature in his case,

That might bestowde on thee a better grace.

To the Rouing Pyrat.

THou winste thy wealth by warre

vngodly way to gaine:

And in an houre thy ship is sunck

goods drownde, the Pirat slaine.

The Gunne is all thy trust,

it serues thy cruell fo

Then brag not on thy Canon shot

As thought there were no mo.

Of one that had little Wit.

J Thée aduise

If thou be wise

To kéepe thy wit

Though it be small:

Tis rare to get

And farre to fet,

Twas euer yit

Dearste ware of all.

In commendation of Wit.

Wit farre excéedeth wealth,

Wit Princely pompe excels,

Wit better is than Beauties beames

Where Pride and Daunger dwels.

Wit matcheth Kingly Crowne,

Wit maisters Witlesse rage:

[Page] Wit rules the fonde affects of youth,

Wit guides the steps of Age.

Wit wants no Reasons skill

a faithfull Friend to know:

Wit wotes full well the way to voide

the smooth and fléering fo.

Wit knowes what best becommes

and what vnséemely showes:

Wit hath a wile to ware the worst,

Wit all good fashion knowes:

Since Wit by wisedome can

doe this and all the rest,

That I imploy my painefull head

to come by Wit is best.

Whome if I might attaine,

then Wit and I were one:

But till time Wit and I doe cope,

I shall be post alone.

An aunswere in dispraise of Wi

THe Wit you so commend

with wealth cannot compare:

For wealth is able Wit to win

when Wit is waxen bare.

Wit hath no Beauties beames,

to Kingly crowne it yeeldes:

Wit subiect is to wilfull rage,

Rage Wit and Reason wéeldes.

[Page] Wit rules not witlesse youth,

nor aged steps doth guide:

Wit knowes not how to win a friende,

Wit is so full of pride.

Wit wots not how to flie

the smooth and flattering gest:

Wit cannot well discerne the thing

that doth become it best.

Wit hath no wyle to ware

mishap before it fall,

Wit knowes not what good fashion meanes,

Wit can doe naught at all.

Since Wit by wisdome can

doe nothing as you wéene,

If you doe toyle to come by Wit,

then are you ouer séene.

Whome when you doe attaine,

though Wit and you séeme one:

Yet Wit will to another when

your back is turnde and gone.

The Louer to Cupid for mercie, declaring how first he became his thrall, with the occasion of his defiyng Loue, and now at last what caused him to conuert.

O Mightie Lorde of Loue

Dame Venus onely ioy,

[Page] Whose Princely powre doth farre surmount

all other heauenly Roy:

I that haue swarude thy lawes

and wandred farre astray:

Haue now retyrde to thée againe

thy statutes to obay.

And so thou wouldst vouchsafe

to let me pleade for grace:

I would before thy Barre declare

a sielie Louers case.

I would depaint at full

how first I was thy man:

And show to that what was the cause

that I from Cupid ran.

And how I haue since that

yspent my wéerie time:

As I shall tell, so thou shalt here

declarde in doolefull rime.

In gréene and tender age

(my Lorde) till .xvij. yeares,

I spent my time as fitted youth

in Schole among my Féeares

As then no Bearde at all

was growne vpon my Chin,

Which well approoude that mans estate

I was not entred in.

I neede not tell the names

of Authors which I read,

[Page] Of Proes and Verse we had inough

to fine the dullest head.

But I was chiefly bent

to Poets famous Art,

To them with all my deuor I

my studie did conuert.

Where when I had with ioy

yspent my time a while:

The reast refusde, I gaue me whole

to Nasos Noble stile.

Whose volumes when I saw

with pleasant stories fright:

In him (I say) aboue the rest

I laide my whole delight.

What should I here reherse

with base and barraine Pen,

The lincked tales and filed stuffe

that I pervsed then?

In fine it was my loare

vpon that part to light

Wherein he teacheth youth to loue,

and women win by slight

Which Treatise when I had

with iudging eie suruayde:

At last I found thy Godly kynde

and Princely powre displayde.

Of Cupid all that Booke

and of his raigne did ring,

[Page] The Poet there of Venus did

in sugred Dittie sing.

There read I of thy shafts

and of thy golden Bow,

Thy shafts which by their diuers heads

their diuers kindes did show.

I saw how by thy force

thou madest men to stoope:

And grisely Gods by secret slight

and Deuilish Imps to droope.

There were depainted plaine

thy quick and quiuer wings,

And what so else doth touch thy powre

there Ouid swéetely sings.

There I thy Conquests sawe

and many a noble spoile:

With names annexed to the same

of such as had the foile.

There Matrones marcht along

and Maydens in their Roe,

Both Faunes and Satyrs there I saw

with Neptuns troupe also.

With other thousands else

which Naso there doth write,

But not my Pen or barraine Skull

is able to recite.

O mightie Prince (quoth I)

of such a fearefull force,

[Page] How blest were I, so thou of mée

wouldst daine to take remorce?

And choose mée for thy thrall

among the rest to bee,

That liue in hope and serue in trust

as waged men to thée?

With that (thy Godhead knowes)

thou gauste a freindly looke:

And (though vnwoorthie such a place)

mée to thy seruice tooke.

In token I was thine

I had a badge of Blue

With Sabels set, and charge withall

that I should aye be true.

Thou badste me follow Hope

who tho thy Ensigne bare.

And so I might not doe amisse,

thus didst thy selfe declare.

Then who reioyst but I?

who thought himselfe yblist?

That was in Cupids seruice plaste

as brauely as the best?

And thus in lustie youth

I grue to be your thrall,

And was (I witnesse of thy Dame)

right well content withall.

But now I minde to shewe

(as promisse was to doe)

[Page] How first I fled thy Tents, and why

thy campe I did forgoe.

When I had bene retainde

well nigh a yeare or more,

And serude in place of wage and méede

as is the Souldiars lere:

I chaunst by hap to cast

my floting eies awrie,

And so a Dame of passing shape

my fortune was to spie.

On whome Dame Nature thought

such beautie to bestowe,

As she had neuer framde before

as proufe did plainely showe.

On hir I gazde a while

till vse of sense was fled:

And colour Paper white before

was woxen Scarlet red.

I felt the kindled sparkes

to flashing flames to growe:

And so on sodaine I did loue

the Wight I did not knowe.

Then to thy Pallace I

with frowarde foote did run,

And what I saide, I mynde it yet,

for thus my tale begun.

O Noble Sir (quoth I)

is this your free assent

[Page] I should pursue a Game vnknowne

within your stately Tent?

If so (quoth I) thou wilt,

and giuste the same in charge:

I mynde of all my brydled lust

to let the Raynes at large.

Then (Hope) did prick mée forth

and bad mee be of chéere:

Who said I should within a while

subdue my Noble Feere.

He counselde mee to shun

no dreadfull daungers place,

But follow him who Banner bore

vnto your Noble grace.

He would maintaine my right

and further aye my cause,

And bannish all dispaire that grewe

by frowarde fortunes flawes.

Tis Cupids will (quoth hée)

our Maister and our Lorde

That thou with manly hart and hand

shouldst lay the Barck aborde.

She shall not choose but yéelde

the fruite for passed paines:

For shée is one of Cupids thralls,

and bound in Venus Chaines.

Thinkst thou our maister will

his seruant liue in woe?

[Page] No not for all his golden Darts

ne yet his crooked Bowe.

Wherefore with luckie Mart

giue charge vnto the Wight:

Take Speare in hande, and Targe on arme,

and doe with courage fight.

With that, I armde me well

as fits a warring man,

And to the place of friendly fight

with lustie foote I ran.

My Foe was there before

I came vnto the fielde,

I thought Bellona had bene there

or Pallas with hir shielde.

So well shée was beset

with Plate and priuie Maile,

As for my life my limber Launce

might not a whit preuaile.

Yet naythelesse with Speare

and Shielde, we fought a space:

But last of all we tooke our Bowes

and Arrowes from the case.

Then Dartes we gan to sling

in wide and weightlesse Skies:

And then the fiercest fight of all

and combat did arise.

In stead of shiuering shafts,

light louing lookes we cast,

[Page] And there I founde my selfe too weake

hir Arrowes went so fast.

But one aboue the reast

did cleaue my breast so farre,

As downe it went, where lay my hart,

and there it gaue a iarre.

So cruell was the stroke,

so sodaine eke the wounde,

As by the fearefull force I fell

into a senselesse sounde.

Thus hauing no refuge

to quite my selfe from death:

I made a vowe to loue hir well

whilst Lungs should lende me breath.

And since that time I haue

endeuorde with my might

To win hir loue, but nought preuailes

shée wayes it not a Mite.

Shée skornes my yéelding hart,

not forcing on my Hest:

But by disdaine of cloudy browe

doth further my vnrest.

Yet ruthlesse though shée were,

and farsed full of yre:

I looude hir well as hart coulde think,

or woman might desire.

I sought to frame my speach

and countnance in such sort,

[Page] As shée my couert hart myght sée

by shewe of outwarde port.

To Troilus halfe so true

vnto his Creside was

As I to hir, who for hir face

did Troiane Creside passe.

At length, when Reason saw

mée sotted so in loue

As I ne would, ne might at all

my fansie thence remoue:

Shée causde hir Trumpe be blowne

to cyte hir seruants all

Into the place, by whose aduise

I might be rid from thrall.

Then Plato first appearde

with sage and solemne sawes:

And in his hand a golden booke

of good and gréekish lawes

Whose honnie mouth such wise

and weightie wordes did tell:

Gainst thee and all thy troupe at once

as Reason likte it well.

When Platoes tale was done,

then Tullie prest in place:

Whose filed tongue with sugred talke

would good a simple case.

With open mouth I heard

and Iawes ystrecht a wyde,

[Page] How he gainst Venus dearlings all

and Cupids captiues cryde.

Then Plutarch gan to preach

and by examples proue,

That thousand mischiefes were procurde

by meane of guilefull loue.

Whole Cities brought to spoyle,

and Realmes to shamefull sack:

Where Kings and Rulers good aduice

by meane of Loue did lack?

Next Plutarch, Senec came

seuere in all his sawes:

Who cleane defide your wanton tricks,

and scornde your childish lawes.

I néede not name the reast

that stoode as then in place:

But thousandes more there were that sought

your Godhead to deface.

When all the Hall was husht,

and Sages all had donne:

Then Reason that in iudgement sate

hir skilfull talke begonne.

Gramercie Friends (quoth shee)

your counsell lykes me well:

But now lend eare to Reasons wordes

and listen what I tell.

What madnesse may be more

than such a Lorde to haue,

[Page] Who makes the chieftaine of his bande

a ruke and raskall slaue?

Who woonted is to yeelde

in recompence of paine,

A ragged recompence God w [...]te

that turnes to méere disdaine?

Who gladly would ensue

a Conduct that is blinde?

Or thrall himselfe to such a one

as shewes himselfe vnkinde?

What Ploughman would be glad

to sowe his séede for gaine,

And reape when Haruest time comes on

but trauaile for his paine?

What madman might endure

to watch and warde for nought?

To ride, to runne, and last to loose

the recompence he sought?

To waste the day in wo,

and restlesse night in care,

And haue in stead of better foode

but sobbing for his fare?

To bleare his eies with brine

and salted teares yshead:

To force his fainting flesh to fade,

his colour pale and dead?

And to foredoe with carke

his wretched witherde hart?

[Page] And so to bréede his bitter bale

and hatch his deadly smart?

I speake it to this fine,

that plainely might appere

Cupidos craft and guilefull guise

to him that standeth here.

Whose eies with fansies mist

and errors cloudes are dim,

By meane that hée in Venus Lake

and Cupids goulfe doth swim.

And hath by sodaine sight

of vnacquainted shape

So fixt his hart, as hope is past

for euer to escape.

Vnlesse to these my wordes

a listning eare hée lende:

Which oft art woont the Louers minde

and fansie to offende.

But he that would his health

sowre Sirops must assay:

For erie griefe hath cure againe

by cleane repugnaunt way.

And who so mindes to quite

and rid himselfe from wo,

Must séeke in time for to remoue

the thing that hurtes him so.

For longer that it lastes

it frets the farder in

[Page] Vntill it growe to curelesse maine

by passing fell and skin.

The Pyne that beares his head

vp to the haughtie Skie,

Would well haue béene remooude at first

as daylie proofe doth trie:

Which now no force of man

nor engine may subuart:

So wyde the créeping rootes are run

by Natures subtile Art:

So Loue by slender sleight

and little paine at furst

Would haue béene stopt, but hardly now

though thou wouldst doe thy wurst,

The woonted saw is true,

shun Loue, and Loue will flée,

But follow Loue and spite thy nose

then Loue will follow thée.

And though such graffed thoughts

on sodaine may not die,

Ne be forgone: yet processe shall

their farther grouth destrie.

No Giaunt for his lyfe

can cleaue a knarrie Oke,

Though he would séeke to doe his wurst

and vtmost at a stroke:

But let the meanest man

haue space to sell him downe,

[Page] And he will make him bende his head

and bring his boughes to grownde.

No force of falling showre

can pierce the Marble stone,

As will the often drops of raine

that from the gutters gone.

Wherefore thou retchlesse man

my counsell with the mo

Is, that thou péecemeale doe expell

the loue that paines thée so.

Renounce the place where shée

doth make soiourne and stay:

Force not hir trayning truthlesse eies,

but turne thy face away.

Thinke that the hurtfull hooke

is couerde with such baite:

And that in such a pleasant plot

the Serpent lurcks in waite.

Waie well hir scornefull chéere,

and think shée seekes thy spoile:

And though thy conquest were atchiude

may not acquite thy toile:

Not ydle sée thou bee,

take aye some charge in hande:

And quickly shalt thou quench the flame

of carelesse Cupids brande.

For what (I pray you) bred

Aegisthus fowle defame?

[Page] And made him spoken of so yll?

what put him to the shame?

What forcde the Foole to loue.

his beastly ydle lyfe

Was cause that he besotted was

of Agamemnons Wyfe.

If he had fought in field

encountring with his Foe,

On stately stéede, or else on foote

with glaue had giuen the bloe:

If he that Lecher lewde

had warlick walles assailde

With Cannon shot, or bownsing Ram

his fenced enmies quailde:

He had not felt such force

of vile and beastly sin,

Cupidos shafts had fallen short

if he had busie bin.

What Myrrha made to loue,

or Byblos to desire

To quench the heate of hungrie lust

and flames of filthy fire?

What Canace enforcde

to frie with frantick brands,

In sort as vp to yéeld hir selfe

vnto hir brothers hands?

And others thousand mo

of whome the Poets wright?

[Page] Nought else (good fayth) but for they had

in ydle thoughts delight.

They spent their youthfull yeares

in foule and filthie trade,

They busied not their ydle braines

but God of Pleasure made.

Wherefore if thou (I say)

dost couet to auoyde

That bedlam Boyes deceitfull Bowe

that others hath anoyde:

Eschewe the ydle lyfe,

flée, flée from doing nought:

For neuer was there ydle braine

but bred an ydle thought.

And when those stormes are past

and cloudes remooude away:

I know thou wilt on (Reason) think

and minde the words I say.

Which are:

Discomodities of Loue.

that Loue is roote

and onely crop of care,

The bodies foe, the harts annoy,

and cause of pleasures rare.

The sicknesse of the minde,

the Fountaine of vnrest:

The goulfe of guile, the pit of paine,

of griefe the hollow Chest.

A fierie frost, a flame

that frozen is with Ise,

[Page] A heauie burden light to beare,

a Vertue fraught with Vice.

It is a Warlike peace,

a safetie set in dred,

A deepe dispaire annext to hope,

a famine that is fed.

Sweete poyson for his taste,

a Porte Charybdis léeke,

A Scylla for his safetie thought,

a Lyon that is méeke.

And (by my Crowne I sweare)

the longer thou dost loue,

The longer shalt thou liue a Thrall

as tract of time will proue.

Wherefore retire in haste

and spéede thée home againe,

And pardned shall thy trespasse bée,

and thou exempt from paine.

Take Reason for thy guide

as thou hast done of yore:

And spite of Loue thou shalt not loue

ne be a thrall no more.

Repaire to Platos schoole,

and Tullies true aduice:

Let Plutarch be and Seneca

thy teachers to be wise.

This long and learned tale

had broosed so my braine:

[Page] As I forthwith to reason ran,

and gaue thee vp in plaine.

Fie, fie on Loue quoth I,

I now perceiue his craft:

For Reason hath declarde at large

how hee my fréedome raft,

I sée his promise is

farre fayrer than his paie:

I finde how Cupid blearde mine eies,

and made me run astraie.

I wote how hungrie Hope

hath led mée by the lip,

And made mée mooue an endlesse sute

well worth an Oken chip.

Hée trainde mée all by trust,

I farde as Hounde at hatch:

The lesser fruite I founde, the more

I was procurde to watch.

Thus (mightie Lorde) I left

thy lawes and statutes strong

For rayling Reasons trifling talke,

and offerd thée a wrong.

But now Dame Venus knowes,

and thou hir sonne canst tell

That I within my couert hart

doe loue thée passing well.

Now fully bent to be

(so thou wilt cleane put out

[Page] Of mind my passed iniuries)

thy man and Souldier stout:

Prest to obey thy will

and neuer swarue againe,

As long as Venus is of force

and thou shalt kéepe thy Raigne.

I weigh not Tullies tale,

ne prating Platos talke:

Let Plutarch vouch what Plutarch can,

let skuruey Senec walke.

Olde Ouid will I reade,

whose pleasant wit doth passe

The reast, as farre as stubborne Stéele

excells the brittle Glasse.

In him thy déedes of Armes

and manly Marts appéere,

In him thy stately spoyles are séene

as in a Mirrour cléere.

Thy mothers prayse and thine

in him are to be founde,

For conquestes which you had in Heauen

and here bylow on grounde.

Forgiue my former guilt,

forget my passed toyes:

And graunt I may aspire againe

vnto my woonted ioyes.

If euer man did loue

or serue in better stoode,

[Page] Then shape my wagesse to the same

and doe restraine my meede.

But so I fight in fielde

as fiercely as the best:

I hope that then your Godhead will

reward me with the rest.

After misaduentures come good haps.

J Neuer thought but this that luck in fine

Would to my will and fansie well incline.

For dayly proofe doth make an open show

That commen course of things would haue it so.

When stormie clouds from darkned skyes are fled,

Then Phoebus shewes his gay and golden hed.

His princely pride appeares whē showres are past,

And after day the night ensues as fast.

When winter hath his trembling carkas showne,

And wt his frostie foote the spring downe throwne,

Then in leapes Aestas gay with gladsome gleames

That Haruest brings & dries vp winter streames.

The Barck that broylde in rough & churlish Seas

At length doth reach a Port and place of ease.

The wailefull warre in time doth yéelde to peace,

The Larums lowde & Trūpets sound doth cease:

Thus may we sée that chaunce is full of chaunge.

And Fortune feedes on foode that is full straunge,

[Page] Wherefore doe not dispaire thou louing Wight,

For Seas doe ebbe and flow by Natures might:

From worse to good our haps are chaunged oft,

And basest things sometimes are raysde aloft.

So Gods would haue, and Fortune doth agree,

Which proufe appéeres and is exprest by mée.

To his Loue that controlde his Dogge for fawning on hir.

JN deede (my Deare) you wrong my Dog in this

And shew your selfe to be of crabbed kinde,

That will not let my fawning Whelp to kisse

Your fist, ye faine would shew his Maisters minde:

A Mastife were more fit for such a one,

That can not let hir Louers Dog alone.

He in his kinde for mée did séeme to sue,

That earst did stande so highly in your grace,

His Maisters minde the wittie Spanell knewe,

And thought his woonted Mistresse was in place:

But now at last (good faith) I plainly sée

That Dogs more wise than Women friendly bée.

Wherefore since you so cruelly entreate

My Whelp, not forcing of his fawning chéere,

You shew your selfe with pride to be repleate,

And to your Friend your Nature doth appéere:

The Prouerbe olde is verifide in you,

Loue mée and loue my Dog, and so adue,

[Page] Both I and he that siely Beast sustaine

For louing well and bearing faithfull harts,

Despitous checks, and rigorous disdaine,

Where both haue well deserued for our parts,

For Friendship I, for offred seruice hée,

And yet thou neyther loouste the Dog nor mée.

Vpon the death of the aforenamed Dame Elizabeth Arhundle of Cornewall.

WHat Tongue can tell the wo?

what Pen expresse the plaint?

Vnlesse the Muses helpe at néede

I féele my wits to faint.

Yée that frequent the hilles

and highest Holtes of all,

Assist mée with your skilfull Quilles

and listen when I call.

And Phoebus, thou that sitst

amidst the learned route,

Doo way thy Bowe, and reach thy Lute

and say to sounde it oute.

Helpe (learned Pallas) helpe

to write the fatall fall

Of hir, whose lyfe deserues to be

a Mirrour to vs all.

Whose Parents were of fame

as Leyster well can showe:

[Page] Where they in worship long had liude,

with yeares did worship growe.

Of worship was the house

from whence shée tooke hir line:

And she a Dannat by discent

to worship did incline.

What néede I pen the prayse

of hir that liude so well.

That of it selfe doth yéelde a sounde,

we néede not ring the Bell.

Whilst Dannat did ensue

Diana in the race,

A truer Nymph than Dannat was

was neuer earst in place.

With Beautie so adrest

with Vertue so adornde:

Was none that more imbraste the good.

nor at the wicked scornde.

When fléeing Fame with Trumpe

and blasted brute had brought

This Dannats thewes to courtlike eares

(which Dannat neuer sought)

To Court she was procurde

on Princesse to attende

A seruice fit for such a one

hir flowring yeares to spende.

Where when she had remainde

and serude the Princesse well,

[Page] Not rashly but with good aduice

to Iunos yoke she fell.

A Woulfe by hap espide

this sielie Lambe in place,

And thought hir fittest for his pray:

not gastly was his face,

Not Woulflike were his eies,

ne harrish was his voice:

Nor such as Lambes might feare to heare

but rather might reioice.

A hart not bent to hate

or yeelding pray to spill:

Vnto Licaon farre vnlike

whose pleasure was to kill.

Arhundle was his name,

his stock of great discent:

Whose predecessors all their liues

in Vertues path had spent.

Hée not vnlike the rest

behaude himselfe so well,

As he in fine became a Knight,

so to his share it fell.

Thus was this Ladie fast

conioynde in sacred knot:

Whose prime and tender yeares were spent

deuoyde of slaunders blot.

The match no sooner made,

when mariage rites were donne;

[Page] But Dannat ranne hir race as right

as shée hir course begonne.

And sooth it is, shee liude

in wiuely bond so well,

As she from Collatinus wife

of Chastice bore the bell.

Vlysses wyfe did blush

to heare of Dannats prayse:

Admetus Make (the good Alcest)

did yéelde vp all hir Kayes.

The Gréekes might take in griefe

of such a one to héere,

Who for hir well deserued fame

could haue no Greekish Péere.

Thus many yeares were spent

with good and soothfast life,

Twixt Arhundle that worthie Knight

and his approoued wife.

Of whome such Impes did spring,

such fruite began to growe.

Such issue did proceede as we

them by their braunches knowe.

The Oke will yéelde no Grapes,

the Vine will beare no Hawes:

Ech thing must follow kindly course

by Natures fixed lawes.

Euen so that worthie Tree

such fruite is séene to beare,

[Page] As yet commends the withred stocks

and them to Welkin reare.

Thus did they liue in ioy,

till chaunce and spitefull death

These louing Turtles did deuide

and rest the Cock his breath.

Then first the bale began,

then black attyre came on:

And Dannats dréerie doole was seene

with neuer stinting mone.

Nought might hir sorrow swage,

but still she did bewaile

The Cinders of hir seuerd Make

with teares of none auaile.

Seauen yeares she spent in wo

refusing other Make:

For such is Turtles kinde you know

they will none other take.

I doubt where Dido felt

the like tormenting rage,

When that the guilefull Guest was gone

that laid his fayth to gage,

This Dannats vertues were

so rife and eke so rare,

As few with hir for honest life.

and wisdome might compare.

Minerua did soiourne

within that wiuely brest:

[Page] Hir déedes declarde that in hir head

Dame Pallas was a guest.

But what we couet most

or chiefest holde in price,

With gréedie gripe of darting death

is reaued with a trice.

The cruell Sisters thrée

were all in one agréede,

To let the spindle run no more

but shrid the fatall thréede.

And fortune, (to expresse

what swing and sway she bare)

Allowde them leaue to vse their force

vpon this Iewell rare.

Thus hath the Welkin woon,

and we a losse sustainde:

Thus hath hir Corse a Vante founde out,

hir Sprite the Heauens gainde.

Since sobbing will not serue,

ne shedding teares auaile

To bring the soule to Corps againe

his olde and woonted Gaile:

Leaue off to bath hir stone

with Niobs teares to long,

For thou shalt aide hir naught at all

but put thy selfe to wrong.

Wish that hir soule may reach

the place from whence it came:

[Page] And she be guerdond for hir life

with neuer dying fame.

For sure she well deserude

to haue immortall prayse,

And lawde more light than clearest Sunne

or Phoebus golden rayes.

If ought my slender skill

or writing were of powre,

No processe of ingratefull time.

hir vertues should deuoure.

Disprayse of Women that allure and loue not.

WHen so you vew in Verse

and Poets rimes report,

Of Lucrece, and Vlysses wife

that lyues in honest sort.

When Hippo commes by hap

or good Alcest yfeare,

And other some that by desert

with fame renowmed were,

Then you with hastie doome

and rashfull sentence straight,

Will vaunt that women more and lesse

were all with vertue fraight.

And, for those fewe that liude

in wiuely bonde so well,

[Page] You will estéeme the reast by those

that onely bare the bell,

But follow sound aduice,

let eche receyue hir doome,

As ech in vertue did surmount,

or sit in highest roome.

So cleane was neuer séede

ysifted, but among

For all their paynes were weedes that grew

to put the graine to wrong.

That troupe of honest Dames

those Grisels all are gone:

No Lucrece now is left aliue,

ne Cleopatra none.

Those dayes are all ypast,

that date is fléeted by:

They myrrors were Dame Nature made

hir skilfull hande to try.

Now course of kinde exchaungde

doth yeelde a woorser graine,

And women in these latter yeares

those modest Matrones staine.

Deceit in their delight,

great fraude in friendly lookes:

They spoyle the Fish for friendships sake

that houer on their Hookes.

They buye the baite to deare

that so their fréedome loze:

[Page] And they the more deceitfull are

that so can craft and gloze.

With beautie to allure,

and murder with disdaine:

What more may be gainst womens kind

where ruth of right should raigne

So Memphite Crocodile

(as we in Poets fine)

Where Nylus with his seuenfold streame

to Seaward doth incline

With ruthlesse trickling teares

and lamentable sounde,

The siely Beast with pittie mooude

doth cruelly confounde.

So Marmaydes in the flood

and Syrens swéetly sing,

Till they the musing Mariner

to spéedie death doe bring.

Now Helen for hir traine

with Dian may compare:

Such sundrie Helens now are found,

and Dians Nymphes so rare.

Who if by craft espie

thy Senses once to bende,

And bow by Cupids subtile breach

that burning gleames doth sende:

Then will they séeke in haste

by force of friendly blinck,

[Page] And wrested looke into thy breast

their beauties shape to sinck.

Which if be brought to passe,

then haue they their desire:

And standing farre doe smile to sée

the flaming of the fire.

Then looke they on a loofe,

and neuer once repaire

To ende the strife that they haue stirrde

twixt Louer and Dispaire.

As Shepheards when they sée

the Ganders foe in snare

Reioyce, that from their foldes of late

their siely cattle bare:

Or Boy that knowes the Foule

to be in pithole caught,

That woonted was to steale the stale

and set the snare at naught:

So wily Women woont

to laugh, when so they spie

The louing Wight ytraynde by trust

in poynt and pinch to die.

But if such chaunce doe chaunce

(as often chaunce we see)

The fish that earst was hangde on Hooke

by better chaunce be frée,

If he by happie hap

doe cast off Cupids yoke,

[Page] Not setting of their Loue a Leeke

that gaue the cruell stroke:

Then are remooude the cloudes

of hir disdainfull brow:

And friendships flood that earst was drie

afresh begins to flow.

Then wresteth shée hir grace,

and makes a séeming show

As though she ment no chaunge at all,

ne would hir Hestes forgo.

Thus are they fright wich wiles

whome Nature made so plaine,

Thus Sinons shifts they put in vre

their purpose to attaine.

Wherefore let be our care

Vlysses trade to trie:

And stop our eares against the sounde

of Syrens when they crie.

Think when thou séest the baite

whereon is thy delite,

That hidden Hookes are hard at hande

to bane thee when thou bite.

Think well that poyson lurckes

in shape of Sugar swéete:

And where the freshest flowres are séene

there most beware thy féete.

But chiefly Women shoonne

and follow mine aduice,

[Page] If not, thou mayst perhaps in proufe

of folly beare the price.

To trust to rotten boughes

the daunger well is seene:

To treade the tylled trap vnwares

hath alwayes perill béene.

Haue Medea still in minde,

let Circe be in thought:

And Helen that to vtter sack,

both Greece and Troie brought

Let Creside be in coumpt

and number of the mo,

Who for hir lightnesse may presume

with falsest on the row:

Else would she not haue left

a Troian for a Gréeke.

But what? by kinde the Cat will hunt,

hir Father did the like.

As wylie are their wits,

so are their tongues vntrue:

Vnconstant and aye fleeting mindes

that most imbrace the nue.

When fixed is their fayth

it restes on brittle sande:

And when thou déemste them surste of all

they beare thée but in hande.

Though Argus were aliue

whose eies in number were

[Page] As many as the Peacock proude

in painted plume doth beare:

Yet Women by their wyles

and well acquainted drifts,

Would soone deceiue his waking head,

and put his eies to shifts.

Nought haue they néede at all

Cyllenus Pipe to blow

To forge their fraude, their tongues will serue

as learned writers show.

First trie and then tell

Where I haue sayd well

For without a triall

There vailes no deniall.

Of a Phisition and a Soothsayer.

MARCKE felt himselfe diseasde,

the Soothsayer sayd: There bée

Sixe yet remainder daies of life,

no mo (Friend Marcke) to thée

Then skilfull Alcon came,

he felt the pulses beate:

And out of hande this Marcus dide,

there Phisick wrought his feate.

This showes Phisition doth

the Soothsayer farre excéede:

For thone can make a short dispatch,

when thother makes no spéede.

A controuersie of a conquest in Loue twixt Fortune and Venus.

[Page]

WHilst Fissher kest his line

the houering fish to hooke:

By hap a rich mans daughter on

the Fissher kest hir looke.

Shée fryde with frantick Loue,

they maride eke at last:

Thus Fissher was from lowe estate

in top of Treasure plast.

Stoode Fortune by and smylde:

how say you (Dame) quoth shée

To Venus? was this conquest yours,

or is it due to mée?

Twas I (quoth Vulcans Wife)

with helpe of Cupids Bowe,

That made this wanton wench to rage,

and match hir selfe so lowe.

Not so: twas Fortune I

that brought the Trull in place:

And Fortune was it that the man

stoode so in Maydens grace.

By Fortune fell their loue,

twas Fortune strake the stroke:

Then detter is this man to mee

that did the match prouoke.

The Louer voweth how so euer he be guerdoned to loue faithfully.

[Page]

VVthankfull though she were

and had disdainefull browe,

Regarding nought my constant hart,

ne forcing of hir vowe:

Since sowen is the séede

of faithfull friendships lore,

Vnconstant will I neuer be

ne breake my Hest therefore.

Let Fortune vse hir force

so Cupide stande mine ayde,

And Cyprid laugh with loouely looke,

I will not be afrayde.

By mée the Noble kinde

of man shall not be shamde,

Recorde through mée shall neuer force

our sequell be defamde.

Albe that I consume

my gréene and growing youth,

Yea age and all without rewarde

yet nill I swarue my truth.

Eche that shall after come,

and liue when I am dust,

This louing hart shall well descrie

the Key of perfite trust.

[Page] Hir, while my vitall breath

these fainting limmes shall mooue:

Yea, after death in hollow Vawte

ytombed, will I looue.

Force shée my seruice true

I force it not at all,

Rue she by ruth my dréerie life

or it to mercy call:

In stay my Loue shall stand,

I will not false my fayth,

Ne breake my former plighted hest

or promise to the death.

Disdaine shall neuer force

my friendship once awrie:

Ere that I craue immortall Gods

that ye will let me die.

Let Dido still complaine

Aeneas broken Hest,

Of all that came to Carthage Coast

the most vnfaythfull guest.

Vntrustie Theseus eke

let Ariadne cléepe,

Escaping from his friendly Féere

yled in slumbring sléepe:

So let Medea blame

the Knight that woon the Flise,

That forced naught at all in fine

hir cleapings and hir cries:

[Page] Haue thou the faythfull hart

of thine assured Friend,

Ere he be of that retchlesse race

the Sunne awrie shall wende.

Where so thou yéelde him grace

or as an outcast shoon:

Expect his former plighted Hest

as thou tofore hast doon.

Loue will hée neuer blame

ne Venus lawes forgo,

Life sooner shall than loue decrease

his faith is fixed so.

He sorrowes the long absence of his Ladie. P.

NOw once againe (my Muse) renue the woes

Which earst thou hast in doolefull dittie soong,

For greater cause of sorrow not arose

To mée at all, than now of late is sproong:

As you shall heare in sad and solemne Verse,

A wofull Wight his haplesse hap rehearse,

Come (Clio) come with pensiue Pen in hande

And cause thy sisters chaunge their chéereful voice,

Ye furies fell that lurcke in Plutos lande,

Come skip to Skies, and raise a doolefull noice:

Helpe to lament the Louers wofull chaunce,

And let Alecto leade the lothsome daunce.

[Page] All ye that Ladies are of Lymbo Lake

With hissing haire, and Snakie bush bedect,

Your beddes of stéele and dankish Dennes forsal

And Stix with stinking Sulpher all infect:

Doe what you may to ayde my carefull Quill,

And helpe to ring a Louers latter knill.

And time (I trow) sith she from hence is fled

Who was the guide and giuer of my breath,

By whome I was with wished pleasure fed

And haue escapte the ruthlesse hande of death:

Who was the Key and Cable of my life,

That made me scape Charybdis carefull clife.

A Starre whereby to steare my bodies Bark,

And ship of soule to shoare in safetie bring,

To quite my Corse from painefull pining cark,

And fierie force of craftie Cupids sting:

Euen she that me from Syllas shelfe did shroude,

That light is lost, that Lodestarre vnder cloude.

Whose absence bréedes the tempest I sustaine,

And makes my thoughts so cloudie black to bae,

And brackish teares from swolen eies to raine,

And churlish gale of surging sighes to flée:

That Ancor scarce ne harbour I may haue

From deepe dispaire my broken Ship to saue.

The Rubie from the Ring is rest I finde,

The foile appéeres that vnderneath was set:

The Saint is gone, the Shrine is left behinde,

The Fish is scapte, and here remaines the Net:

[Page] That other choise for me is none but this,

To waile the want of hir that is my blisse.

I cursse the Wight that causde hir hence to go,

I hate the Horse that hence hir Corse conuaide,

The Bit, the Saddle all I cursse aroe,

And ought that else might this hir iourney staide:

I cursse the place where she doth now solourne,

And that whereto she mindes to shape retourne.

My mouth, that kist hir not before she went,

Mine cies, that did not séeke to sée hir face,

My head, that it no matter did inuent,

My hande, that it in Paper did not place:

My feete, that they refusde to trauell tho,

My legges I cursse that were so loth to go.

My tongue, that it to parle did then procure

To vtter all my close and couert minde,

To hir who long hath had my woundes in cure,

In whome such ruth and mercie I did finde:

My hart I cursse, that sought not to bewray

It selfe to hir or ere she went hir way.

And last my selfe and erie thing beside,

My life, my limmes, my carrion Corse I cursse:

Saue hir for whome these torments I abide,

That of my lyfe is onely well and sourse:

Ioue shroude hir salfe, and kéepe hir from annoy,

And sende hir soone to make returne with ioy.

To his Loue long absent, declaring his torments.

[Page]

O Lingring Loue, O Friende

that absent art so long,

Where so thou be, the Gods thée guide

and quit thy Corse from wrong:

And sende thée harmelesse health,

and safely to reuart,

How soone your selfe may déeme full well

to saue a dying hart.

For since your parture I

haue lead a lothsome state:

And saue the hope of your returne

nought might my woes abate.

And will you know the time

how I haue spent away?

And doe you long in ruthfull rime

my torments to suruay?

Though but with weeping eies

I may the same recite:

Yet naythelesse the truth herein

to thée (my Friend) I write.

When flickring Fame at first

vnto mine eares had brought

That you to trauell were addrest,

and fixed was your thought

[Page] In London long to lodge,

and flee our friendly soile:

Then Dolour first in daunted Corps

and wounded breast did boile.

I felt how griefe did gi [...]

the onset on my hart,

And sorrow sware that pensiue pangues

should neuer thence depart.

With clinching clawes there came,

and talents sharply set,

A flock of gréedie griping woes

my grunting hart to fret.

The more I sought the meane

by pleasaunt thought to ease

My growing griefe, the more I felt

increase my new disease.

When other laught for ioy,

it brought to minde my woe:

When Musick slakte their sorrowes, then

my secret sore did growe.

When they at meate were set

their daintie foode to taste,

In stead of Viands, hartie sighes

I had for my repaste.

When Bacchus came to Boorde,

and eche to other drincks:

My swolen floud of salted teares

did ouerflow his brincks,

[Page] And out did gushe amaine

of drinke to stande in stéede

To me, that of such monstrous meate

as sorrow was did féede.

From boorde to bed I go▪

in hope to finde reliefe,

And by some pleasaunt nap to rid

my troubled Ghost from griefe:

But slumbring sleepe is fled.

and Morpheus shewes his spight:

That will not yéelde on minuts reast

in all a Winters night.

O Lorde, what sundrie kindes

of care doe then begin

Tassault my wearie waking head,

and trembling hart within?

A thousande thoughts arise,

eche thought his torment brings:

And thus the lothed night I spend

and féele how sorrow springs.

And if in dawning chaunce

some drouping sléepe to light

Vpon the carefull Corse that thus

hath spent the waking night:

It standes in little steade,

so dreadfull are my dreames

As they by force of wo procure

mine eies to runne with streames.

[Page] Then bathe I bed with brine,

and cloy my Couch with teares:

And mid my sleepe thy griefly Ghost

in straungie sort appeares.

Not with such friendly face

and brow of gladsome cheare

As earst thou hadst: those louely lookes

and blincks are all areare.

More grimmer is your grace,

more coye your countnance eake:

More lowring lookes than were of yore

and Brow more bent to wreake.

In hande mée thinkes I see

thée holde the hatefull knife

To flea thy Friend, and for good will

to reaue deserued lyfe.

Wherewith I wake afright

and straine my pillow fast,

To garde me from the cruell toole

vntill your wrath be past.

At length I see it plaine

that fansie did enforce

Vnto his vgly monstrous dreame

my weake and slumbring Corse.

I vewe thy secret hart,

and how it longs to bée

With him that for vnfayned loue

impawnde his faith to thée.

[Page] For mercie then I call

of you that iudge so yll,

Whose pleasure is to garde your Friend,

and not your Foe to kyll.

Of dreames a thousand such

eche night I haue a share,

To bannish sléepe from pining Corse

and nurse my canckred care.

Thus day and night I liue,

thus night and day I die:

In death I féele no smart at all,

in life great wo I trie.

Wherefore to rid my griefes

and bannish all annoie:

Retire from Creece, and doe soiourne

here with thy Friend in Troie.

Who longs to see thy face

and witnesse of thy state:

nd partner be of thy delights

Ahis furious fits to bate.

To Browne of light beliefe.

BEware my Browne of light beliefe,

trust not before you trie:

For vnder cloke of great good will

doth fained friendship lie.

As wylie Adder lurcks in leaues

and greenest grasse of all,

[Page] And stings the stalking Wight that thought

no daunger would befall.

So is the plaine vnplayted man

by subtile dealing guilde

And soonest snarde by subtile shifts

of him that smoothly smilde.

Wée neuer sée the frowning Friend

that frets to outwarde showe,

Beguile or séeke to false his Friend,

as doth the fléering Foe:

The Mastife Dog is voyded well

that barcks or ere he bite:

But (oh) the Cur is cruell that

doth neuer barck a whit.

Deale thou as Courtyers daylie doe,

in wordes be franck and frée,

Speake fayre and make the weather cléere

to him that gybes with thée.

For so thou shalt assured stande

from hurt to be as farre,

As from the grounde of true good will

those glosing marchaunts are.

A wisedome to beware of Woulfes,

and Foxes guilefull guise:

For tone is craftie by his kinde,

the other passing wise.

So that it is a matter harde

their double drifts to flée:

[Page] But yet thou shalt auoyde the wurst

if thou be rulde by mée.

(ꝙ) G. T.

That Death is not so much to be feared as daylie diseases are.

WHat? yst not follie for to dread

and stande of Death in feare,

That mother is of quiet reast,

and griefes away doth weare?

That brings release to want of welth,

and poore oppressed Wightes?

He comes but once to mortall men,

but once for all he smites.

Was neuer none that twise hath felt

of cruell Death the knife:

But other griefes and pining paines

doe linger on the life,

And oftentimes on selfe same Corse

with furious fits molest,

When Death by one dispatcht of life

doth bring the soule to rest.

The Epicures counsell, eate, drinke, and plaie.

MY Friend, where as thou séest thy selfe

to be a man in déede,

[Page] Eate, quaffe, and play, with present ioyes

thy greedie fansie féede.

For I (thou séest) am dust become

that earst so welthie was:

I haue that I aliue did eate,

the reast away did passe.

What so I poorde in pampred paunch

and to my guts conuaide,

To gaping grounde with me I bore,

the reast behinde is staide.

My haughtie buildings huge to sée,

my Turrets and my traine,

My Horse, my Houndes, my cofred Coine

for others doe remaine.

Wherefore a Myrrour make of mée

and drowne thee in delight:

For Death will swéepe away thy welth

and reaue thy pleasures quight.

The Aunswere to the vile and canckred counsell of the outragious Epicure.

MY Friend, for that I sée my selfe

to be a man in déede,

Thy quaffing counsell I refuse,

vnlesse to serue my néede.

I muse no whit that thou art dust,

thy beastly lyuing héere

[Page] Was meane to bring thée to thy bane,

the sooner for thy chéere.

Thou thoughts to pamper vp thy paunch,

but thou didst feede ywis

The gréedie Wormes that gnaw thy guts,

for them a daintie dish.

Good reason that thou shouldst forgo

and leaue thy goods behinde,

For that a beast so lyke a beast

didst liue against thy kinde.

A man in name, no man in déede

thou art that counselst mée

To liue as thou hast liude, and die

a Monster like to thée.

For since thy lyfe so lothsome was,

and shamefull cake thy death:

I will beware, and make a Glasse

of thée whilst I haue breath,

To shunne thy sluttish sinfull Sect,

thy tipling and thy toyes:

For after death those pleasures passe

as did thy fickle ioyes.

Of Homer and his birth.

THe Poet Homer Chius claimes,

Colophon doth the léeke:

And Smyrne sweares that he is hirs

that was the learned Greeke.

[Page] Of Salamine some say he was,

of Iö other some:

And diuers make report that he

of Thessale line did come.

Thus sundred and deuided are

the peoples mindes of thée,

(Thou Princely Poet) but my thought

with neyther doth agree.

For I assuredly suppose

and déeme the Heauenly Speare

Thy soyle, and Pallas lap the wombe

that did thy body beare.

Hir breast (the Dug) that thou didst suck

in Cradle when thou layst:

With haughtie stile so much (thou Gréeke)

thy mazed head dismayst.

That Time conquereth all things, saue the Louers paine.

WAs neuer Bull so fell

with wrinckle fronted face,

But Time would make him yéeld to yoke

and toyle the ground apace.

The Horse ybred in Holte

and fed in lustie Lease

In Time will champe the fomie Bit

his Riders will to please.

[Page] The Lions that are woode

and raging in their kinde,

By trackt of Time their kéepers know

in whome they friendship finde.

Those Beastes that come from Inde

and farthest partes of all,

In Time doe swerue their sauage sect

and to their dutie fall.

Time makes the Grape to growe

and Vine to spreade at large,

So that the skin scarse able is

to holde his inwarde charge:

So Ceres fruite doth sproute

by force of growing Time,

Which makes the strength of hidden séede

into the stalke to clime.

Time makes the tender twig

to bousteous Trée to grow:

It makes the Oke to ouerlooke

the slender shrubs bylow.

It frets the Culter kéene

that cuts the froting soyle,

It forceth hardest Flint of all

and Marble to recoyle.

Time wreakefull wrath subdues

it breaketh angers gall,

And eche disease in Time hath helpe:

thus Time doth conquer all.

[Page] Though these and other like

by processe are procurde,

Yet naythelesse my festred wounde

can not in Time be curde.

For that which sendeth salue

and comfort to the reast,

Doth cause my ranckling sore to rage

and dubble in my breast.

As Springs that from a Mount

doe take their downe warde sourse,

To whome there may no barre be founde

to stop their headlong course:

So Lordlike Loue ystaulde

and ceazde in yeelding minde

May not be dispossest againe,

such is his stately kinde.

To his Friend riding to Londonwarde.

AS Troylus did reioyce

when Cresid yéelded grace,

And dained him from seruice true

so néere hir hart to place:

So haue I ioyde (my Deare)

for friendship which I founde,

And loue requited with the like

which curde my carefull wounde.

And he full shrilly shright

and doolde his wofull chaunce,

[Page] On Gréekish Stéede from Troian towne

when Cresid gan to praunce

And leaue the lyked soyle

where did soiourne hir ioie,

I meane the worthy Troylus

and louingst youth in Troie:

Euen so I waile at thy

departure, would thou wist,

And out I crie a wretched Wight

that thought himselfe yblist.

O London lothsome lodge

why dost thou now procure

My Loue to leaue this pleasant soyle

that hath my hart in cure?

Since needes it must be so

gainsend hir home in hast:

Let hir retire with harmelesse health

that sicklesse hence is past.

Yeelde mée a good account

of hir that is my ioie,

And send hir to hir Troylus

that longs for hir in Troie.

Of the Raine and cloudy weather at the time of his Friends departure from Troie.

NO meruaile though the Sunne do hide his hed

And vnder cloude do keepe his lowring lookes,

[Page] No woonder that the Skie his teares doth shed

And with his streames increase the water brookes:

The cause is knowne, the proofe is passing plaine,

My Loue and I be sundred to our paine.

Now she is gone that did sustaine my breath

And saude my ship of bodie from the wrack,

By whome I scapte the cruell hande of Death

Which thought to bring my Corse to vtter sack:

The Welkin wéepes and helpes me to bewaile

With gushing showres the losse of mine auaile.

Wherefore, O Heauenly states that Rulers bée

Of starrie Skies from whence these teares discende

And flush so fast as mortall Wights doe sée:

Of ruth in néedefull time my woes to ende,

Procure my Loue to make returne in post,

To gard from griefe hir Friends afflicted ghost.

If not, with flasshing flame and Thunder dint

By Vulcan forgde and hammerd for the nones,

Consume to dust my flesh my wo to stint,

And with thy Mace (O Ioue) vnioint my bones:

That by such scath and losse of vitall breath

I may auoide a worse and straunger death.

For like the teene that now my hart sustaines

Was neuer felt nor such oppressing care:

Of force my life must yéelde to pinching paines

Of hasting Death, the fits so furious are:

Which though be so, when I am wrapt in Clay,

(My soule) to hir thou shalt repaire and say.

[Page] That whilst the lyfe would suffer mee to woonne

With mortall Wights, my hart was hirs at will,

And now my Spindle hath his course yroonne

And twist is none yleft, thou wilt fulfill

The dutie which thy Maister ought of right,

And which he would accomplish if he might.

Of a couetous Niggard, and a needie Mouse.

ASclepiad that gréedie Carle,

by fortune found a Mouse

(As he about his lodgings lookte)

within his niggish house.

The chiding Chuffe began to chaufe,

and (sparefull of his chéere)

Demaunded of the siely Beast

and sayde what makste thou héere?

¶ You néede not stand in feare (good Friend)

the smiling Mouse replide:

I come not to deuoure your Cates

but in your house to hide.

¶ No man this Miser I account

that chid this hurtlesse Elfe:

No Mouse the Mouse, but wiser than

the Patch that owde the Pelfe.

A pretie Epigram of a Scholler, that hauing read Vergils Aeneidos, maried a curst Wyfe.

[Page]

A Schollar skillde in Vergils Verse

and reading of his booke

(Arma virum (que)) that begins,

was caught in Cupids booke.

At length to mariage flat he fell,

when wedding day was doon,

To play hir prancks, and bob the Foole

the shrowish Wife begoon.

The Husband daylie felt the fistes

and buffers of his Wife:

Vntill at last he thus began

to plaine of painefull life.

(Oh Caitiffe mée) the Schollar cryde

well worthy of this wo,

For Arma I Virum (que) read

in Vergill long ago:

Yet could not sée to scape the plague

whereof the Poet spake.

No doubt that Noble Poet for

a Prophet I will take.

For Arma now Virum (que) I

both day and night sustaine

At home, I néede not runne to Schoole,

to reade the Verse againe.

[Page] Would (Virum) were away, and then

let (Arma) doe their wurst:

But when I matcht with such a shrew

I think I was accurst.

To a yong Gentleman of taking a Wyfe.

LOng you with greedie minde to leade a lyfe,

That pleasaunt is in déede, and voyde of care▪

I neuer wishe you then to take a Wyfe

Nor set your foote in craftie Cupids snare.

A filthie Trull is yrkesome too the eie,

A gallant girle allures the lookers minde:

A wanton wench will haue the head too die,

An aged Trot to lyke is hard to finde.

A bearing Wyfe with brats will cloy thée sore,

A greater carcke than childrens care is none,

A barraine beast will greeue thée ten times more,

No ioy remaines when hope of fruite is gone.

Wherefore let wyuing go, lyue single aye,

Apply the Booke and bande the Ball among:

A shrew (we sée) is wedded in a day

But ere a man can shift his handes tys long.

The Aunswere for taking a Wyfe.

LOng you with gréedie minde to bleare mine eie

And make mée thinke of marige thus amisse?

[Page] I cannot déeme so yll of wyuing I,

To loue and wed for loue is perfite blisse.

A filthy Trull (you say) is lothsome sight,

Put case she be not passing faire to vewe?

If she with vertue doe the want requight

Of comely shape thou hast no cause to rue.

A gallant girle allures the lookers minde,

What shall we say the womans is the shame?

Bicause the cléerest eies by course of kinde

Can not abide the Sunne, is hee to blame?

A wanton wench to die will haue the hed,

Canst thou not sée before thou wade so farre?

His be the hurt that lookes not ere he wed,

The Husband may the woman make or ma [...]e.

Put case an aged Trot be somewhat tough?

If coyne shée bring the care will be the lesse,

If shée haue store of muck and goods ynough

Thou néedste not force so much of handsomnesse.

A bearing Wyfe doth make the husband glad,

A greater ioye than Childrens may not bée:

A barraine wench sometime must néedes be had

There doth not fruite spring out of euery trée.

So that I finde no reason, none at all

In that thou wilst a man to single lyfe,

And quite to shun the comfort that may fall

And daylie doth to him that hath a Wyfe.

For sure though some be shrewes as some there be,

(As of the shéepe are some that beare no wull)

[Page] Yet must we praise the match whereby we sée

The earth maintainde with men, and stored full.

But if you thinke so yll to take a Wyfe,

Let others wed, leade you the single lyfe.

(ꝙ) G. T.

Of a deafe Plaintife, a deafe Defendant, and a deafe Iudge.

BY hap a man that could not heare

but borne deafe by kinde,

Another cited to the Court,

much like himselfe to finde,

Whose bearing Sense was quight bereft:

the Iudge that of the Case

Should giue his verdit, was as deafe

as deafest in the place.

To Court they came: the Plaintife praide

to haue the vnpaid rent.

Defendant saide, in grinding I

this wearie night haue spent.

The Iudge behelde them both a while,

is this at last (quoth hée)

Of all your stirred strife the cause?

You both hir children bée:

Then Reason willes, and Law allowes

your Mother should haue aide

At both your handes that are hir Sonnes.

When thus the Iudge had saide,

[Page] The People laught a good to heare

this well discussed case

Twixt two deafe men, and thought him fit

to sit in Iudges place

Vpon so blinde a matter that

was deafe as any rock:

And thus the simple men were shamde,

the Iustice had a mock.

A promise of olde good will, to an olde friend at the beginning of New yere.

THe Chuffes for gréedie gaine

and lucers looue expende

Their New yeares gifts vpon their Lords

as crie yeare hath ende:

But I in token that

the yeare his course hath roon,

And proufe that ioyfull Ianus hath

a nouell yeare begoon:

(As Loue and Dutie willes)

the Herauld of my hart

Here send to you to make a shew

that Friendship shall not start.

Though yeares doe chaunge by course

and alter by their kinde:

My olde good will and faith to slip

I trust you shall not finde.

[Page] Timetes will be true,

his loue shall neuer blin:

But gather strength and grow to more

than when it did begin.

A Vow to serue faithfully.

JN gréene and growing age, in luftie yéeres,

In latter dayes when siluer bush appeeres:

In good and gladsome hap when Fortune serues,

In lowring luck when good auenture swerues

By day when Phoebus shewes his princely pride,

By night when golden Starres in Skies do glide,

In Winter when the groues haue lost their gréene

In Sommer when the longest dayes are séene,

In happie helth when sicklesse limmes haue lyfe,

In griefull state, amids my dolors ryfe,

In pleasant peace when Trumpets are away,

In wreakfull warre when Mars doth beare ye sway,

In perillous goulfe amid the sinking sande,

In safer soyle and in the stable lande.

When so you laugh, or else with grimmer grace

You beare your faithfull Friend vnfriendly face,

In good report and time of woorser fame,

I will be yours, yea though I loose the game.

Funerall Verse vpon the death of Sir Iohn Horsey Knight.

THat welth assigned is to waste away,

And stately pompe to vanish and decrease.

[Page] That worship weares and worldly wights decay,

And Fortunes gifts though nere so braue do cease

May well appéere by Horseys hatefull Hierce,

Whose Corse (alas) vntimely Death did pierce.

Who thought thereby as Nature to subdue

By reauing breath and rowne in worldly stage:

So blasted brute to blot, and Fame that flue

Of him that well deserude in all his age

For worship and renowne to haue his share

Among the reast that prayse for Vertue bare.

But séeking waies to wrong this worthy wight,

Shée fowly myst hir purpose in the fine:

For Horsey gaines by deaths outragious spight,

And endlesse fame, whereat his Foes repine:

But eche man else laments and cries alowde

That Horsey was to soone ywrapt in shrowde.

The rich report that ruth in him did raigne,

And pittie lodgde within his loouing breast,

The simple say that for no maner gaine

He hath at any time the poore oppreast:

Thus both estates his worthy life commende,

And both lament his ouerhasting ende.

Then cease (I say) such flushing teares to shed,

Doo way thy doole, represse thy ruthfull mone,

For Horsey liues, his soule to Skies is fled,

The onely Corse is closde in Marble stone.

So that thou hast no cause to waile his chaunce,

Whome spitefull death by hatred did aduaunce.

To his Friend T: hauing bene long studied and well experienced, and now at length louing a Gentlewoman that forced him naught at all.

[Page]

J Thought good fayth, & durst haue gagde my hand

For you (Friend T.) ye beautie should now hight

Haue rasde your hart, nor Cupid with his brand

Haue brought thy learned breast to such a plight.

I thought Mineruas gift had beene of powre

By holesome reade to roote this fansie out:

But now I sée that Venus in an howre

Can bend the best, and dawnt the wise and stoute.

Why shouldst thou séeke to make ye Tiger tame?

To win a Woulfe so cruell by his kinde?

To suffer Aesops Snake thou art to blame

That stoong the man where he reliefe did finde.

Is naught in hir but Womans name alone,

No Woman sure she is, but Monster fell,

That scornes hir friend, & makes him die wt mone.

Who makes an Idoll of a Diuell of Hell.

Shée was cut out of some Sea beaten rock,

Or taken from the cruell Lyons Tet,

That féedes hir Friend for friendship with a mock

And smiles to see him macht in Follies Net.

If thou were wise (as thou art full of loue)

Thou wouldst account hir beautie but a Glasse,

And from thy hart such fansies fond remoue

I loth to see the Lyon wex an Asse.

[Page] If so she were thy faithfull Friend in déede,

And sought a salue to cure thy cruell sore,

(As now shée séekes to make thy hart to bleede)

Good fayth thou couldst account of hir no more.

But waying now hir great abuse to thée

A Friend to hir, but to thy selfe a Foe:

Why shouldst thou loue, or so enamoured bée?

Leaue off be time, let all such dotage goe.

Should I imbrace the man that hates my life?

Should I account of him that settes me light?

Should I yeeld vp my throate to murthring Knife?

Or séeke for to reclaime a Haggard Kite?

Hast thou not read how wise Vlysses did

Enstuffe his eares with Waxe, and close them vp,

Of Cyrces filthie loue himselfe to rid,

That turnd his Mates to Swine by Witches cup?

And how he did the lyke vpon the Seas

The pleasant noysome Syrens songs tendure,

That otherwise had wrought him great vnease

If once they mought his mates and him allure?

Put thou the Greekes deuise againe in vre,

Stop vp thine cares this Syren to beguile,

Seale vp those wanton eies of thine, be sure

To lend no eare vnto hir flattring stile.

For all hir talke but to deceit doth tende,

A canckred hart is wrapt in friendly lookes:

Shée all hir wittes to thy decay doth bende,

Thou art the Fish, she beares the byting hookes.

[Page] No sauage beast doth force a man a whit

That loues him not: we see the dogged Curre

Fawnes not one him that with ye whip doth smite

The Horse hates him yt pricks him with the spurre.

And wilt thou loue, or place within thy brest

The cruell Dame that weaues thy web of woe?

Wilt thou still fawne vpon so false a guest:

In stead of Doue wilt thou retaine a Crowe?

Beware in time, ere Beautie pierce to farre,

Let fansies go, loue where is loue againe:

For doubtlesse now to much to blame you arre.

To sowe good will and reape but fowle disdaine.

I counsaile thus that may thée best aduise,

For that my selfe did serue a cruell Dame:

The blinde recurde can iudge of bleared eies,

The Criple healde knowes how to heale the lame.

Shake thou betimes the yoke from off thy neck,

For feare the print thereof remaine behind:

A happie man is he that feares no check,

But liues at fréedome with contented minde.

¶ An Epitaph vpon the death of the worshipfull Maister Richarde Edwardes late Maister of the Children in the Queenes Maiesties Chappell.

IF teares could tell my thought,

or plaints could paint my paine,

If dubled sighes could shew my smart,

if wayling were not vaine:

[Page] If gripes that gnawe my brest

coulde well my griefe expresse,

My teares, my plaints, my sighes, my wayling

neuer should surcesse.

By meane whereof I might,

vnto the world disclose

The death of such a man (alas)

as chaunced vs to lose.

But what auayles to mone?

If life for life might bée

Restorde againe, I woulde exchaunge

my lyfe for death with thée.

Or if I might some way,

to pay thy rawnsome know,

(O Edwards) then beleue me sure

thou shouldst not lie so low:

That O thou cruell Death,

so fierce with dint of dart

Due curses on my knees I yéelde

to thée with all my hart.

For that it list thée trie

thy foule and cankred spite

On that so rare a péece, on that

so wise and worthy Wight.

Suffisde thée (since thou must

be mad) the simple sort

to flea, or on the brutish blood

of beastes to take thy sport,

[Page] And not in furious wise,

with haste and headlong rage

To kill the flowre of all our Realme

and Phaenix of our age.

The fact doth crie reuenge,

the Gods repay thine hire,

Déepe darckned Lake of Lymbo lowe,

and still consuming fire.

His death not I but all

good gentle harts doe mone:

O London, though thy griefe be great,

thou dost not mourne alone.

The seate of Muses nine

where fiftene Welles doe flowe,

Whose sprinckling springs and golden streames

ere this thou well didst knowe.

Lament to loose this Plant

for they shall see no more

The braunch that they so long had bred,

whereby they set such store.

O happie House, O Place

of Corpus Christi, thou

That plantedst first, and gauste the roote

to that so braue a bow:

And Christ Church which enioydste

the fruite more rype at fill,

Plunge vp a thousande sighes, for griefe

your trickling teares distill.

[Page] Whilst Childe and Chappell dure,

whilst Court a Court shall bée,

(Good Edwards) eche estate shall much

both want and wishe for thée.

Thy tender Tunes and Rimes

wherein thou woontst to play

Eche princely Dame of Court and Towne

shall beare in minde alway.

Thy Damon and his Friend,

Arcyte and Palemon

With moe full fit for Princes eares,

though thou from earth art gone,

Shall still remaine in fame,

and lyke so long to hide

As earthly things shall liue, and God

this mortall Globe shall guide.

For loe, thus Vertue list,

hir Pupils to aduaunce:

Yet for my part I would that God

had giuen thée better chaunce.

A longer time on earth,

thy hastned death before,

But Edwardes now farewell for teares

will let me write no more.

Well may thy bones be lodgde

thy fame abroade may flie,

Thy sacred soule possesse a place

aboue the starrie Skie.

(ꝙ) Tho. Twine.

To his Loue that sent him a Ring wherein was graude, Let Reason rule.

[Page]

SHall Reason rule where Reason hath no right?

Nor neuer had? shall Cupid loose his landes?

His claim? his crown? his kingdōe? name of might

And yéeld himselfe to be in Reasons bandes?

No, (Friend) thy Ring doth wil me thus in baine,

Reason and Loue haue euer yet béene twaine.

They are by kinde of such contrarie mould

As one mislikes the others lewde deuise,

What Reason willes Cupido neuer would,

Loue neuer yet thought Reason to be wise.

To Cupid I my homage earst haue donne.

Let Reason rule the harts that she hath wonne.

To his Friend Francis Th: leading his lyfe in the Countrie at his desire.

MY Francis, whilst you breath your foming steede

Athwart the fields in peace to practise warre,

In Countrie whilst your keneld Hounds doe feede,

Or in the wood for taken pray doe iarre:

Whilst you with Haukes the sielie Foule doe slape,

And take delight a quick retriue to haue,

To flee to marke, and heare the Spanels baye

Wasting your age in pleasure passing braue:

In Citie I my youthfull yeares doe spende,

At Booke perhaps sometime to weare the day:

Where man to man not friend to friend doth lende,

With vs is naught but pitch (my Friend) and pay.

[Page] Great store of Coyne, but fewe enioy the same,

The owners holde it fast with lymed handes,

We liue by losse, we play and practise game

Wee by and fell, the streate is all our landes.

Well storde we are of crie needefull thing.

Wood, Water, Coale, Flesh, Fishe we haue ynow:

(What lack you) Wyues and Maides doe daylie sing

The Horne is rife, it sticks on many a brow.

But yet (I say) the Countrie hath no peere,

The Towne is but a toyle, and wearie lyfe:

We like your Countrie sportes (Friend Francis) heere,

The Citie is a place of bate and strife.

Wherefore I thinke thee wise and full of thrift

That fledst the Towne, and hast that blessed gift.

To a Gentlewoman that alwayes willed him to weare Rosemarie, (a Tree that is alwayes greene,) for hir sake, and in token of his good will to hir.

THe gréene that you did wish mée weare

aye for your looue,

And on my helme a braunch to beare

not to remooue:

Was euer you to haue in minde

Whome Cupid hath my Féere assignde.

As I in this haue done your will,

and minde to doo:

So I request you to fulfill

my fansie too:

A gréene and louing hart to haue,

And this is all that I doe craue.

[Page]

For if your flowring hart should chaunge

his colour greene,

Or you at length a Ladie straunge

of mée be séene:

Then will my braunch against his vse

His colour chaunge for your refuse.

As Winters force can not deface

this braunch his hue:

So let no chaunge of loue disgrace

your friendship true:

You were mine owne and so be still,

So shall we liue and loue our fill.

Then may I thinke my selfe to bée

well recompenst,

For wearing of the Trée that is

so well defenst

Against all weather that doth fall,

When waywarde Winter spits his gall.

And when wée méete, to trie me true,

looke on my Hed,

And I will craue an othe of you

where Faith be fled:

So shall we both assured bée

Both I of you, and you of mée.

¶An Epitaph of the Ladie Br.

[Page]

STaie (gentle Friend) that passest by

and learne this lore of mée,

That mortall things doe liue to die,

and die againe to bée.

For daylie proufe hath daylie taught

and yet doth teache it plaine,

That all our substance comes to naught,

and worldly welth is vaine.

No rawnsome may redéeme thy fleshe

from lothsome lumpes of soyle,

The Wormes will soone thy Beautie freshe

with greedie gripe dispoyle.

I that was earst of gentle bloud

that neuer sufferd staine,

Haue nothing but a winding shrowds

in stead of all my gaine.

I twise was bound by solemne oth

vnto a louing Make:

Yet twas my luck to burie both,

and eke a thirde to take.

The ioy that fourtie yeares had growne

by those two husbands dayes,

In two yeares space was ouerthrowne

and altred sundrie wayes.

As luck would not allow my choice,

so Death mislikte the same:

[Page] Those two agréed with common voyce

my bondage too vnframe.

The Lady (Br) quoth Fortune tho

hir worship shall not loose:

Then shée (quoth Death) shall haue no mo,

nor other husbande choose.

Thus did they both contend at once

who mought the friendlist bée:

Thus Death and Fortune for the nones

did make my body frée.

¶Pray gentle Friend therefore for me,

to Mightie Ioue on hie:

For as I am so thou shalt bée

since thou dost liue to die.

Trust neuer Fortunes fickle fate,

but Vertue still retaine:

Thou mayst in time exchaunge estate,

yet Vertue will remaine.

Of the time he first began to loue and after how he forewent the same.

HOwe may it be that Snow and Ise

ingender heate?

Or how may Glare and Frost intise

a feruent sweate?

Or how may Sommer season make

of heate a colde?

[Page] How may the Spring the leaues downe shake

and trées vnfolde?

Though these too others séeme full rare,

To mée no newes at all they are.

For I my selfe in Winter tide

when colde was rife,

Whote gleames of Cupid did abide

and stormes of strife.

In frostie weather I was warme

and burning whot,

But when the Bées and Birds did swarme,

full colde God wot:

In Winter time began my looue,

Which I in Sommer did remooue.

The assured promise of a constant Louer.

WHen Phenix shall haue many Makes,

And Fishes shun the Siluer Lakes:

When Woulfes and Lambes yfeare shall play,

And Phoebus cease to shine by day:

When Grasse on Marble stone shall groe,

And euerie man imbrace his foe:

When Moles shall leaue to dig the grounde,

And Hares accorde with hatefull Hounde:

When Lawrell leaues shall loose their hur,

And men of Crete be counted true:

[Page] When Vulcan shall be colde as Ise,

Coraebus eake approoued wise:

When Pan shall passe Appollos skill,

And Fooles of fansies haue their fill:

When Hawkes shall dread the sielie Fowle,

And men estéeme the nightish Owle:

When Pearle shall be of little price,

And golden Vertue friend to Vice:

When Fortune hath no chaunge in store,

Then will I false and not before.

Till all these Monsters come to passe

I am Timetes as I was.

My Loue as long as lyfe shall last,

Not forcing any Fortunes blast.

No threat, nor thraldome shall preuaile

To cause my fayth one iote to faile,

But as I was, so will I bée,

A Louer and a Friend to thée.

The Pine to the Mariner.

O Man of little Wit,

What meanes this frantick fit,

To make thy Ship of mée

That am a slender Trée,

Whome erie blast that blowes

Full lightly ouerthrowes?

Doth this not mooue thy minde

That rage of roring winde

[Page]Did beate my boughes agood

When earst I grue in Wood?

How can I here auoyde

The foe that there anoyde?

Thinkst thou now I am made

A Vessell for thy trade,

I shall be more at ease

Amid the flasshing Seas?

I feare if Aeole frowne,

Both thou and I shall drowne.

Againe otherwise.

A Vassell to the winde

when earst I grew in wood,

How shall I fauour finde

now fléeting in the flood?

For there whilst reaching rootes did holde

I thought I mought be somewhat bolde.

But now that I am cut

and framde another way,

And to this practise put

in daunger crie day.

I feare the force of cruell foe,

my ribbes are thin, my sides be lowe

But if thou venter life,

then I will hazard lim,

For thée is all my griefe,

for lightly I shall swim:

[Page]

[...]

[Page]

[...]

[Page]Though top and tackle all be torne,

yet I aloft the surge am borne.

To an olde Gentlewoman, that painted hir face.

LEaue off good Beroe now

to sléeke thy shriuled skin,

For Hecubes face will neuer be,

as Helens hue hath bin.

Let Beautie go with youth,

renownce the glosing Glasse,

[...]ake Booke in hand: that seemely Rose

[...] woxen withred Grasse.

[...]ooue thy Pecocks plumes

thou cranck and curious Dame:

[...] other Trulls of tender yeares

resigne the flagge of Fame.

Of one that had a great Nose.

STande with thy Nose against

the Sunne with open chaps,

And by thy teeth we shall discerne

what tis a clock perhaps.

Of one whose Nose was greater than his hand.

[Page]

O Proclus, tis in vaine

that thou about dost stande,

For well I sée thou mindste to wipe

thy Nares with thy hande.

Truth is that though thou be

fowle fisted out of frame:

Yet doth this tossing Nose of thine

in bignesse passe the same.

When néezing thou on Ioue

for succour séemste to crie

Thou canst not heare, thy Nose debarres

the noyse to Eare to flie.

It beateth back the sounde,

it standes in middle place

Twixt Eare and Mouth, but sure it castes

a shade to all the face.

Of a Nightingale that flue to Colche to sit abroode.

THou sielie foule what meanes this foolish paine,

to flie to Colche too hatch thy chickins there?

A Mother thou mayst hap returne againe,

Medaea will destroie thy broode I feare.

[Page] For shée that spared not to spoile hir owne,

Wil she stand friend to Fowles yt are vnknowne?

Againe of the Nightingale.

WHat (Philomela) meanes this fond intent

To hatch thy broode in fell Medaeas lap?

What? doste thou hope hir rigor will relent

Towarde thy Babes, that gaue hir owne no pap?

But slue them all at once, and at a clap?

I wote not what thou meanste: vnlesse that shée

Should kill thy Brats, too make the Mother frée.

Of a contrarie mariage.

AN aged Trot and tough

did marrie with a Lad:

Againe, a Gallant Girle to.

hir Spouse, a Graybeard had,

A monstrous match (God wote)

for others she doth wed:

And he bestowes his seede on ground

that lets it take no hed.

In fayth, a foolish choyce,

for neither hath his wishe:

For tone doth lack his wife, and to.

ther féedes on filthie fishe.

Of Dronkennesse.

[Page]

AT night when Ale is in,

like friends we part to bed:

In mororw graye when Ale is out,

then hatred is in hed.

Againe of Dronkennesse.

MEn hauing quaft

are friendly ouernight:

In dawning drie

a man too man a spright.

Of the picture of a vaine Rhetorician.

THis Rufe his Table is,

can nothing be more true:

If Rufus holde his peace, this péece

and he are one to vewe.

Of the fond discord of the two Theban brothers, Octocles and Polynices.

IN death you part the fire,

you cut the cruell flame:

If so you had deuided Thebes

you might enioyde the same.

Of a maruellous deformed man.

[Page]

TO drawe the minde in Table to the sight

Is hard: to paint the lims is counted light:

But now in thée these two are nothing so,

For Nature splayes thy minde to open show.

We sée by proofe of thy vnthriftie déedes,

The couert kinde from whence this filth procéedes.

But who can paint those shapelesse lims of thine,

When eche to vewe thy Carcasse doth repine?

A Myrrour of the fall of Pride.

SOmetime the Giants did rebell

against the mightie Ioue,

They thought in Olymp Mount to dwell

and long for that they stroue.

A hundred handes eche Monster had

by course of curssed kinde:

A stock so stubborne and so mad

I no where else can finde.

Dame Tellus was their Mother thought

of pleasant Poets all,

By whome they would haue brought to nought

the seate Olympicall.

First Briareus began the broyle

who tooke a hill in hand,

And layde it on another soyle

that thereabout did stand:

[Page] Stll calling on his monstrous Mates

exhorting them the same,

And with the reast the Gnuffe debates

how stately Gods to tame.

Ossa was layde on Pyndus back.

and Pelion on hie:

And thus they thought to bring to sack

in time the starrie Skie.

They did enuie the Gods the place

by nature them assignde:

And thought it meeter for a race

which Tellus bred by kinde.

They would haue had the highest throne

that Ioue had long possest:

And downe they would the Gods haue throwne

and Princely powre represt.

At length the route began to rore

in making dreadfull sound,

The like was neuer heard before

to Heauen from the ground.

Then Iupiter began to gaze

and looke about the Skie,

And all the Gods were in a maze

the Monsters were so nie.

They callde a counsaile then in haste

the Gods assembled tho:

And common sentence was at last

that mightie Ioue should throw

[Page] His thunderbolt that Vulcan lame

prepared for the nonce,

Whereby he might eftsoone make tame

the haughtie Giants bones.

Then might you see the Mountaines fall

and hill from hill depart,

And monsters in the valley crawle

whome Thunder did subuart.

The Mountaines were not raysde so quick

but downe they fell as fast:

And Giants in a cluster thick

to Tellus fell at last.

Such plagues had pride in former time,

the Gods abhorred so

That mortall men should dare to clime

the Heauens hie to know.

And not alone the heauenly route

the loftie lookes correct

Of such as prowdly go about

their Empire to reiect:

But other Gods of meaner state

(of whome the Poets write)

Such pieuish Pecocks pride doe hate

and séeke reuenge by might.

The grisly God whome flouds obay

and drenching Seas imbrace,

Who in the waters beares the sway

where Nereus shewes his face:

[Page] Whome forceth he by surge of Seas

into Charybdis cliues?

Or whome doth Neptune most disease?

or whome to Scylla driues?

Not him that beares his Sailes alowe,

nor him that kéepes the shoare:

Ne yet the Bargeman that doth rowe

with long and limber Oare.

Not those that haunt the Hauen sure

and port of perill voide,

They cannot Neptunes wrath procure

the Chanell that auoide:

But those that voide of carck and care

and feare of Neptunes yre,

Doe hoise their Sailes and neuer spare

to further their desyre,

And doe receiue whole Gales of winde

from mightie Aeole sent:

Those, those are they by course of kinde

that Neptune makes repent.

He spoiles the Sailes, and tackle teares,

the Mast it goes to wrack:

The Ribbes they rent, the Shipmen feares

when Gables gin to crack.

Then whereto serues the Pilats pride

that hoyst his Sailes so hie?

And where is he that fearde no tide

nor threatning from the Skie?

[Page] His pride procurde his fearefull fate

and fortune that befell.

Which Neptune most of all doth hate

as Shipmen know right well.

Let Giants fall and Shipmens case

a myrrour be therefore

To such as séeke to hie a place,

for like shall be their lore.

Narcissus may example bée

and myrrour to the prowde,

By whome they may most plainly sée

how pride hath béene allowde.

His beautie braue such loftie chéere

in him did bréede in time:

That Gods themselues agréeued were

with such a haynous crime.

No loouing Lasse might him allure,

nor Dians Nymphes at all

By ought his friendship might procure:

but note ye well his fall.

In Sommer time as Fortune would

his Fortune was to bee

In open fielde, where no man could

his blazing beautie see.

At length in raunging to and fro

his fortune was to finde

A Fountaine freshe that there did flow

as Gods (I think) assignde.

[Page] He thought forthwith his thirst to quent

by pleasant trauaile gote,

But there he found or ere he went

a greater drougth God wote.

In stooping downe to take the taste

of Christall waters theare,

(Vnhappie Boy) had spide at last

a little Boy appeare.

Whose beautie braue, and liking looke

his fansie pleasde so well,

That there himselfe the Boy forsooke

and to a frensie fell.

He had that he so fondly looude:

and yet it was not so:

And from himselfe he was remooude

that thence did neuer go.

He was the Boy that tooke the vewe,

he was the Boy espide,

And being both he neither knewe,

such was the ende of pride.

Then gan he shed his teares a downe,

then gan he make his plaint:

And then at length he fell to grounde

sore féebled all with faint.

His spirite that earst so prowde was séene

conuerted into winde:

But of his Corps a flower gréene

still there abode behinde.

[Page] Narcissus callde (as Poets tell)

as Narcisse was before,

In token that to Narcisse fell

this most vnhappie lore.

I could recite the histories

of many other moe,

Whome pieuish pride the miseries

of Fortune forst to knowe.

But I of purpose will let passe

Apollos Bastard Sonne,

Who Phaeton ycleped was

when first his fame begonne.

I minde not to rehearse at all

the charge he tooke in hande,

I wittingly omit his fall

into Eridan sande.

But this I say assuredly

had it not béene for pride,

The Charret had not gone awrie

though Phaeton were guide.

But glorie vaine and want of skill

enforste his haughtie hart,

Of Phoebe to craue to worke his will

in ruling Phaebus Cart.

The like attempt tooke Icarus

from Creta that did flie

By wings of War with Dedalus,

when Icar slue to hie.

[Page] His Fathers words preuailed not

nor lesson taught before,

Till fained fethers were so whot

as he could flie no more.

For want of wings then gan he clap

his breast with open armes

Till downe he fell: such was his hap,

whose pride procurde his harmes.

When wrastling windes from Aeole sent

befight themselues so long

That East against the West is bent,

and North puts South to wrong:

Then may you heare the Pine to crack

that beares his hed so hie,

And loftie lugs go then to wrack

which seeme to touch the Skie.

When Ioue flings downe his thundring bolts

our vices to redresse,

They batter downe the highest holts

and touch not once the lesse.

The Cotte is surer then the Hall

in proofe we daylie see:

For highest things doe soonest fall

from their felicitee.

What makes the Phaenix flame with fire

a Birde so rare in sight?

What causeth him not to retire

from Phaebus burning light?

[Page] In faith if he woulde liue belowe

as Birds Dame Nature tought,

The Esterlings should neuer knowe

their Phoenix burnt so oft.

All ye therefore that suretie looue

and would not haue a fall,

From you the Peacocks pride remooue

and trust not Fortunes Ball.

Let Phaetons fate be fearde of you

and Icars lot also:

Remember that the Pine doth rue

that he so high doth grow.

Of the Clock and the Cock.

GOod reason thou allow

one letter more to mée

Than to the Cock: For Cocks doe sléept

when Clocks doe wake for thée.

Of a Tayler.

THough Tayler cut thy garment out of frame,

And strie thy stuffe by sowing it arms:

Yet must we say the Tayler makes the Iame,

To make and marre is one with themywis.

The Louer finding his Loue flitted from wonted troth leaues to write in prayse of hir.

[Page]

THough cleane contrarie be my Verse

to those I wrote before,

Yet let not retchlesse doome accuse

my wandring wits the more.

As time doth shape and shew (they say)

so ought our stile to frame,

In Sommer, Sunne, we néede no fire,

yet winter asketh flame:

So I that earst found cause of sport

and matter to reioyce,

Of force by fansie was procurde

to vse a gladsome voyce.

And now since déepe dispaire hath drencht

my hope, I will assay

To turne my tune and chaunge my chéere

and leaue my woonted lay.

Not farre vnlike the chirping Foule

in Sommer that doth sing,

And during Winter hides his head

till next returne of Spring.

They say when altred is the cause

of force effect doth sue:

As new repaire of better bloud

doth cause a Hawke to mue.

[Page] Though Aetna burne by kindly course

and belke out fire with fume:

When Sulpher vaine is cleane extinct

the fire will consume.

Whereby I may conclude aright

that eche Effect must bée

As is his Cause: so fruite ensues

the nature of the Trée.

Then I of force must shape my stile

as matter is I write:

Vnlesse I would be thought to match

a Fawcon with a Kite.

When winde and waue at Sea doe rore

that Barck is in distresse,

Then time requires that shipmen should

their Tackles all addresse.

Then crooked Ancors must be cast

the shaken Ship to stay

From sincking Sands, and ruthlesse Rocks

that Shipmen oft affray.

No sooner Triton blowes his Trumpe

and swolen waters quailes,

And Aeole makes his windes retire:

but hoyse they vp the sailes.

Then fléete they forward in the floud,

then cut they waues in twaine:

Then launch they on (as earst they did)

with all their might and maine;

[Page] So I hereafter must assay

my woonted tune to chaunge

As time requires, and I in loue

shall finde my Ladie straunge.

If she be one of Cresids crue

and swarue hir former Hest,

No Lucrece must I terme hir then,

for that were but a iest.

Or if she false hir fixed fayth,

Vlysses wiues renowne

Vnsitting is for hir whose loue

endureth but a stowne.

Wherefore, I will as time shall shape

and she hir loue prolong,

Applie my Pen, and tell the troth

as best I may in Song.

He sorrowes other to haue the fruites of his seruice.

SOme men would looke to haue

a recompence of paine,

And Reason wills it so to be

vnlesse we list to faine:

Some would expect for loue

to haue vnfained hart,

And think it but a fit reward

for such a good defart.

[Page] But I (vnhappie Wight)

that spend my loue in vaine,

Doe séeke for succour at hir hands

while other get the gaine.

As thirstie ground doth gape

to swallow in the shoure:

Euen so fare I poore Harpalus

whome Cupids paines deuoure.

I holde the Hiue in hande

and paine my selfe thereby,

While other eate the hidden foods

that are not halfe so dry.

I plough the soyle with paine

and cast my seede thereon:

And other come that sheare the sheaues

and laugh when I am gon.

Mine is the Winters toile,

and theirs the Sommers gaine:

The Haruest falles out too their share

that felt no part of paine.

I beare the pinching yoke

and burden on my back,

And other driue when I must draw,

and thus I go to wrack.

I fast when other féede,

I thirst when other drinck:

I mourne when they triumph for ioy,

they swim when I must sinck.

[Page] They haue the hoped gaine

whiles I the losse indure:

They whole at hart, whilst I my griefe

by no meanes can recure.

They shrowd themselues in shade,

I sit in open Sunne:

They leape as Lambes in lustie Leaze,

I lie as one vndunne.

They taste their nightly rest,

my troubled head doth wake:

I tosse and turne from side to side

while they their pleasure take.

I would, but they enioy,

I craue that is debard,

They haue: what will you more I say?

their seruice is prefard.

Thus I procure my woe

by framing them their ioy:

In séeking how to salue my sore

I bréede my chiefe annoy.

So shéepe with wooll are clad

their Maisters haue the gaine,

So Birds doe builde their Nests on Brakes

and put themselues to paine,

But other taste the fruite

when so their broode is hatcht:

The Nest remaines, the Birds are gone,

the Chickens are dispatcht.

[Page] So Bées for Honnie toile

in fléeing too and fro,

And sillie wretches take great paines

for whome they little know.

I think it is procurde

by griesly Gods aboue

That some should gape, and other gaine

the fruit of others loue.

But sure if Womans will

be forger of my wo,

And not the mightie Gods ordaine

my destnie to be so:

Then must I néedes complaine

and cursse their cruell kinde,

That in requitall of good will

doe shew themselues vnkinde.

But whether be the cause,

hereafter I intende

To fawne on them that force on mée,

and bowe when other bende.

This one abuse shall make

me take the better héede

On whome I fixe my fansie fast,

or make a friend in déede.

The Louer seeing himselfe abusde, renounceth Loue.

THough men account it shame

and folly to repent,

[Page] Or grutcht good will that was bestowde

when nought saue faith was ment:

Yet can they not denie

but if the knot be burst,

Then may we shew our selues vnkinde

that friendly were at furst.

He runnes an endlesse race

that neuer turnes againe,

And he a fonded Louer is

that wastes his loue in vaine.

Nought can he iudge of hues,

that can not sée when Guile

In place of friendship cloakes hir selfe

in forme of forged wile.

And he that plainely sées

the Trap before his eie

And will not shun from perill, tis

no matter though he die.

I tell my tale by proufe

I speake it not by rot,

To loue a subtile Lasse of late

was fallen to my lot.

On whome I set such store

such comfort and delight,

As life it was to sée hir face,

a death to want hir sight.

So I might doe the thing

that might abridge hir smart,

[Page] And bannish all annoy that grue

by froward fortunes Art:

What daunger would I dread?

or perill séeme to shun?

None that is here bylow on earth

or subiect to the Sun.

To shew my selfe a Friend

to hir, I was my Foe:

She was the onely Idoll whome

I honorde here belowe.

This is (thought I) the same

that was Vlysses wife:

Who in the absence of hir Make

did leade a dolefull life.

Or else tis she at least

whome Tarquyn did enforce

By beastly rape with piercing sworde

so to for doe hir Corse.

But such is hir abuse

so frowarde eke hir grace,

As loue it may no longer last

since friendship hides his face.

I did not well aduise

I built on sincking Sande.

And when I thought she looude me best

shee bore me but in hande.

Where I had thought a Porte

and Hauen sure to bée:

[Page] There founde I hap and dreadfull death,

as gazers on may sée.

As Mouse that treades the trap

in hope to finde repast,

And bites the bread that bréedes his bane

and is intrapped fast:

Like was my dolefull case

that fed vpon my wo,

Till now Repentance willes mée all

such fansies to forgo.

And (thanked be good hap)

now once againe I fleete

And swim aloft, that sanck of late

fast hampred by the féete.

Now is my fortune good

so Fortune graunt it last:

And I as happie as the best

now stormie cloudes are past,

I finde the bottom firme

and stable where I passe,

There are no haughtie Rocks at hande

ne yet no ground of Glasse.

Good Ancor holde I haue

so I may vse it still,

I am no more a bounden Thrall

but frée I liue at will.

But that which most torments

my minde, and reaues my ioy.

[Page] Is, for I serude a fickle Wench

that bred mée this annoy,

But Gods forgiue my guilt

and time mispent before

And I will be a sillie Sot

of Cupids crue no more.

Against the Ielous heads that alwayes haue Louers in suspect.

WHen Ielous Iuno saw hir mightie Make

Had Iö turnde into a brutish kinde

More couertly of hir his lust to take:

To work hir will & all his frawd to finde

She craude the Cowe in gift at Ioue his hande,

Who could not well his Sisters sute withstande.

When yéelded was hir boone and Hest fulfillde

To Argus charge committed was the Cowe,

For he could wake so well, him Iuno willde

To watch the Beast with neuer sléeping browe:

With hundreth eies that hatefull Hierds hed

Was deckt, som watcht whē som to sléepe were led.

So warded he by day, so wakte by night

And did Dame Iunos will accomplish so,

As neither Ioue might once delude his sight,

Nor Iö part hir pointed pasture fro:

His staring eies on Iö still were bent,

He markt hir march, and sude hir as she went.

[Page] Till Ioue at length to ruth and pittie mooude

To sée the spitefull hate that Argus bare

To hir, whome he so feruently had looude

And who for him abode such endlesse care:

His fethred Sonne Cylenus sent from Skies

To reaue the carefull Clowne his watchfull eies.

Who to fulfill his Lorde and Fathers Hest

Tooke charmed Rod in hande and Pipe to playe,

And gyrt him with a sworde as lykte him best

And to the fielde he flue where Argus laye

Disguised like a shepherd in his wéede

That he his purpose might the better spéede.

When eche had other salued in his sort,

To brag vpon his Pipe the Clowne begoon,

And sayde, that for that noyse and gallant sport

All other mirthes and maygames he would shoon,

His only ioy was on his Pipe to playe:

And then to blow the Rustick did assaye.

In fine when Argus had his cunning showde,

And eche to other chatted had a space

Of this and that as was befalne abrode,

Mercurius tooke his Pipe from out his cafe

And thereon playde hée so passing well,

As most of Argus eies to slumber fell.

And as they slept with charmed Rod he stroke

The drowsie Dolt to kéepe him in that plight,

And playde so long till time he did prouoke

All Argus eies to byd the beast God night:

[Page] Whome when he sawe in such a slumber led,

He stole the Cowe, and swapt of Argus hed.

Such was the fine of his dispitous hate,

Such was the boone and guerdon of his hire,

And all the good the carefull Coward gate

For seeking to debarre the Gods desire:

A fit reward for such a good desart,

The Cowarde might haue playde a wiser part.

God sende the lyke and worse to such as vse

(As Argus did) with euer waking eie

The blamelesse sort of Louers to abuse,

That alwayes readie are and prest to prie

The purpose to bewray and couert toyes

Of faithfull friends, and barre their blissefull ioyes.

I trust there will be found in time of néede

A Mercurie with charmed Twig in hand

And pleasaunt Pipe, their waking eies to féede

With drowste dumps, their purpose to withstand:

That iealous heads may learne to be wies

For feare they lose (as Argus did) their eies

For Cupid takes disdaine and scorne to sée

His Thralls abusde in such vnséemely sort,

Who séeke no gréedie gaine nor filthie fée,

But pleasant play, and Venus sugred sport:

A slender hire (God wote) to quite the paine

That Louers bide, or they their loue attaine.

That it is hurtfull to conceale secrets from our Friendes.

[Page]

A Smart in silence kept

(as Ouid doth expresse)

Doth more torment the payned man

than him that séekes redresse.

For then it respite takes,

and leysure to procure

Such mischiefe as for want of helpe

the longer doth endure.

As if thou set no salue

where ranckleth swelling sore,

It will in further processe paine,

and thée torment the more.

I sundrie times haue séene

a wound that earst was small,

In time for want of Surgions sight

to greater mischiefe fall:

And eke the balefull blowe

so grieuous that was thought,

Full quickly curde by Surgions sleight

if he were quickly sought.

So fareth it by man,

that kéepes in couert breast

The pinching paine that bréedes within,

increasing great vnreast;

[Page] That neuer will disclose

the secret of his hart,

But rather suffer feruent fits

and déeper piercing smart.

For why was friendship founde

and quickly put in vre,

But that th'one of thothers helpe

should thinke himselfe full sure?

Why are they like in minde

and one in erie part?

Why are they twoo in bodies twaine

possessing but one hart?

And why doth one mislike,

that so offendes his Féere,

But that they two are one in déede

it plainely might appeere?

Did Tullie euer dreade

his secrets to disclose

To Atticus his louing Friende,

in whome he did repose

Such credit and such trust

and in himselfe he might,

To whome full oft with painfull Pen

this Tullie did indight?

What euer Theseus thought

Perythous coulde tell,

With wearie trauell that pursude

his louing friende to Hell.

[Page] Was Damon daintie founde

to Pythias at all,

For whome he woulde with Tyran staide

as pledge to liue in thrall?

In Pylades was nought

but that Orestes knewe,

Who priuie was from time to time

how care or comfort grewe.

Gysippus felt no griefe

but Titus boade the same:

And where that Titus founde reliefe

their Gysippe had his game.

When Laelius did laugh

then Scipio did ioy:

And what Menetus Sonne mislikte

Achylles did annoy.

Aeurialus his thoughts

and secrets of his hart

To Nysus would declare at large,

were they of ioy or smart.

All these conioyned were

in surest league of looue,

Whome neyther Fortune good or bad,

nor Death might once remooue.

They would not think in minde

nor practise that at all:

But to that same their trustie Friends

they would in counsell call.

[Page] All those therefore that wishe

their inward paines redresse,

Must to their most assured Friend

it outwardly expresse.

So may they chaunce to finde

a salue for secret sore,

Which otherwise in couert kept

will soone increase to more.

Of the diuers and contrarie passions and affections of his Loue.

TO Phisick those that long haue gone

and spent their time in griefe,

Affirme that Pacients in their paines

will shun their best reliefe.

They will refuse the Tysants taste

and wholesome drinkes despise,

Which to recure diseases fell

Phisttions did deuise:

But when they be debard the same

which so they shunde before,

They crie and call for Tysants then

as soueraigne for their sore.

Such is the wayward guise of those

with pangues that are opprest,

They wish for that they neuer had,

and shun that they possest.

[Page] I may to them right well compare

the Louers diuers thought,

That likes, and then mislikes againe

that they long earst had sought.

They will not, when they may, enioy

their harts desired choise:

They then defie, they then detest

with lowde and lothsome voice.

They will refuse when time doth serue,

but when such time is gone,

They sigh and schreach with mournefull crie

and make a ruthfull mone.

They little think that Time hath wings

or knoweth how to flie:

They hope to haue it still at hande

that swiftly passeth bie.

They thinke that Time will tarie them

and for their fansie stay,

But Time in little time is gone

it fléeteth fast away.

So standes the foole by fléeting floud

and looketh for a turne:

But Riuer runnes and still will run

and neuer shape returne.

What? doe they hope that beauties glasse

will still continue bright?

Nay, when the day is gone and past

by course appéeres the night.

[Page] For crooked age his woonted trade

is for to plough the face

With wrinckled furrowes, that before

was chiefe of Beauties grace.

Perhaps they thinke that men are mad,

and once intrapt in loue

Will neuer striue to breake the snare

nor neuer to remoue.

No Fowler that had wylie Wit

but will foresée such hap,

That Birds will alway buske and bate

and scape the Fowlers Trap.

And if their fortune fauor so,

then who doth mount so hie

As those that guilefull Pitfall tooke

prepared for to die?

What Fi [...] doth fléete so fast as that

which lately hangde on hooke?

By happie hap if he escape,

he will not backwarde looke.

Take time therefore thou foolish Feeme,

whilst Time doth serue so well:

For Time away as fast doth flée

as any sound of Bell.

And thou perhaps in after Time

when Time is past and gone,

Shall lie lamenting losse of Time

as colde as any stone.

[Page] Yet were thou better take thy time

whilst yet thy Beautie serues,

For Beautie as the Flower fades

whome lack of Phoebus sterues.

Of Dido and the truth of hir death.

J Dido and the Quéene of Carthage ground,

Whose lims thou séest so liuely set to sight:

Such one I was, but neuer to be found

So farre in loue as Vergill séemes to wright,

I liude not so in lust and fowle delight.

For neither he that wandring Duke of Troie

Knewe mée, nor yet at Lybie lande ariude:

But to escape Iarbos that did noie

Mée sore, of lyfe my Carcasse I depriude,

To keepe my Hest that he would tho haue riude.

No storme of loue, or dolour made me die,

I slue my selfe to saue my Sheete of shame

Wherein good Sycheus wrapped me perdie:

Then Vergill then the greater be thy blame,

That so by loue dost bréede my fowle defame.

Of Venus in Armour.

IN complete Pallas saw

the Ladie Venus stande:

Who said, let Paris now be iudge

encounter we with hande.

[Page] Replide the Goddesse: what?

scornste thou in Armour mée,

That naked earst in Ida Mount

so foylde and conquerde thée?

Of a Hare complaining of the hatred of Dogs.

THe scenting Hounds pursude

the hastie Hare of foote:

The sillie Beast to scape the Dogs

did iumpe vpon a roote.

The rotten scrag it burst,

from Cliffe to Seas he fell:

Then cride the Hare: vnhappie mée,

for now perceiue I well

Both lande and Sea pursue

and hate the hurtlesse Hare:

And cake the dogged Skies aloft,

if so the Dog be thare.

To one that painted Eccho.

THou witles wight, what meanes this mad intēt

To draw my face & forme, vnknowne to thée?

What meanste thou so for to molesten mée?

Whom neuer Cie behelde, nor man coulde see?

Daughter to talking tongue, and Ayre am I,

My Mother is nothing when things are waide:

I am a voyce without the bodies aide.

When all the tale is tolde and sentence saide,

[Page] Then I recite the latter worde afreshe

In mocking sort and counterfayting wies:

Within your eares my chiefest harbour lies,

There doe I woonne, not seene with mortall eies.

And more to tell and farther to procéede,

I Eccho height of men below in grounde:

If thou wilt draw my Counterfait in déede,

Then must thou paint (O Painter) but a sound.

To a cruell Dame for grace and pittie.

AS I doe lack the skill

to show my faithfull hart:

So doe you want good will

too rue your Louers smart.

The greater is my fire

the lesser is your heate:

The more that I desire

the lesse you séeme to sweate.

O quench not so the Coale

of this my faithfull flame,

With nayes thou frowarde soule,

let yeas increase the same.

Let vs at length agrée

whome Cupid made by law

Eche others friend to bée

in fansies yoke to draw.

[Page] If I doe plaie my part

at any time amis,

Then doe bestowe thy hart

where greater Friendship is.

But if in true good will

I beare my selfe vpright,

Let mée enioy thee still

my seruice too requight.

Go thou my fierie Dart

of scalding whote desire

To pierre hir ysie hart

and set hir brest on fire.

That I may both prolong

my painefull pyning dayes,

And eke auendge hir wrong

that paine for pleasure payes.

I neuer sawe the stone

but often drops would wast:

Nor Dame but daylie mone

would make hir yeelde at last.

To a Gentlewoman from whome he tooke a Ring.

WHat néedes this frowning face?

what meanes your looke so coye?

Is all this for a Ring,

a trifle and a toye?

[Page] What though I rest your Ring?

I tooke it not to kéepe:

Therefore you néede the lesse

in such dispite to wéepe.

For Cupid shall be iudge

and Vmpire in this case,

Or who by hap shall next

approche into this place.

You tooke from mée my hart,

I caught from you a Ring:

Whose is the greatest losse?

where ought the griefe to spring?

Kéepe you as well my hart,

as I will kéepe your Ring,

And you shall iudge at last

that you haue lost nothing.

For if a Friendly hart

so stuft with staide looue,

In value doe not passe

the Ring you may reprooue

The reauing of the same,

and I of force must say

That I deserude the blame

who tooke your Ring away.

But what if you doe wreake

your malice on my hart?

Then giue mée leaue to thinke

you guiltie for your part.

[Page] And when so ere I yeelde

to you your Ring againe,

Restore me vp my hart

that now you put to paine.

For so we both be pleasde,

to say we may be bolde

That neyther to the losse

of vs hath bought or solde.

The Louer blames his Tongue that failed to vtter his sute in time of neede.

FOrcause I still preferde the truth before

Shamelesse vntruth, and lothsome léesings lore,

I finde my selfe yll recompenst therefore

Off thée my Tongue.

For good desert and guiding thée aright,

That thou for aye mightst liue deuoide of spight,

I reape but shame, and lack my chiefe delight

For silence kept.

When happie hap by hap aduaunst my case,

And brought mée to my Ladie face to face,

Where I hir Corps in safetie might imbrace,

Thou heldst thy peace.

Thou madste my voyce to cleaue amids my throte,

And sute to cease vnluckylie (God wote)

Thou wouldst not speake, tho yu hadst quite forgote

My harts behest.

[Page] My hart by thée suspected was of guile,

For cause thou ceast to vse a louing stile,

And wordes to forge and frame with finest file

As Louers woont.

Thou madste my bloud fro paled face to start,

And flie to séeke some succor of the hart,

That wounded was long earst with dreadfull dart

Off Cupids Bowe.

And thou as colde as any Marble stone

When from my face the chillie bloud was gone,

Couldst not deuise the way to make my mone

By wordes appéere.

And (yée my teares) that woonted were to flowe

And streame adowne as fast as thawed Snowe,

Were stopt, as then yée had no powre to showe

A Louers sute.

My sighes that earst were woont to dim the Skie,

And cause a fume by force of flame to flie,

Were tho as slack, as Welles of wéeping drie

Too showe my Loue.

The hart that lay incombred all within

Had fainted quite had not by lookes ybin:

For they declarde the case my hart was in

By tongues vntroth.

That all things are as they are vsed.

WAs neuer ought by Natures Art

Or cunning skill so wisely wrought,

[Page] But Man by practise might conuart

Too worser vse then Nature thought.

Ne yet was euer thing so ill

Or may be of so small a prise,

But man may better it by skill

And chaunge his sort by sounde aduise.

So that by proofe it may be séene

That all things are as is their vse,

And man may alter Nature cleene,

And things corrupt by his abuse.

What better may be founde than flame,

Too Nature that doth succor paie?

Yet we doe oft abuse the same

In bringing buildings to decaie.

For those that minde to put in vre

Their malice, mooude to wrath and ire:

To wreake their mischiefe, will be sure

Too spill and spoyle thy house with fire.

So Phisick that doth serue for ease

And to recure the grieued soule,

The painefull Patient may disease,

And make him sick that earst was whole.

The true Man and the Théefe are léeke

For sworde doth serue them both at néede,

Saue one by it doth safetie seeke

And th'other of the spoile to spéede.

As Law and learning doth redresse

That otherwise would go to wrack:

[Page] Euen so doth it oft times oppresse

And bring the true man to the rack.

Though Poyson paine the drinker sore

By boyling in his fainting breast,

Yet is it not refusde therefore,

For cause sometime it breedeth reast:

And mixt with Medicines of proofe

According to Machaons Arte,

Doth serue right well for our behoofe

And succor sends to dying harte.

Yet these and other things were made

By Nature for the better vse,

But we of custome take a trade

By wilfull will them to abuse.

So nothing is by kinde so voide

Of vice, and with such vertue fraught,

But it by vs may be anoide,

And brought in trackt of time too naught

Againe there is not that so ill

Bylowe the Lampe of Phoebus light,

But man may better if he will

Applie his wit to make it right.

The Louer excuseth himselfe for renowncing his Loue and Ladie, imputing the same to his fate and constellation.

THough Dydo blamde Aeneas truth

for leauing Carthage shore,

[Page] Where he well entertainde had béene,

and like a Prince before:

Though Theseus were vnthriftie thought

and of a cruell race,

That in rewarde of death escapte

by Aryadnas Lace,

Amid the desart woods so wilde

his loouing Lasse forsooke,

Whome by good hap and luckie lore

the drowsie Bacchus tooke.

Yet if the Iudges in this case

their verdit yéelde aright,

Nor Theseus nor Aeneas fact

deserue such endlesse spight,

As waywarde Women stirde to wrath

beare fixed fast in minde,

Still seeking wayes to wreake their yre

vpon Aeneas kinde.

For neither lack of liking loue,

nor hope of greater gaine,

Nor fickle fansies force vs men

to breake off friendships chaine.

They loth not that they looude before,

they hate not things possest:

Some other weightie cause they haue

of chaunge, as may be gest.

And waying with my selfe eche one,

I can none fitter finde,

[Page] Than that to men such blessed hap

is by the Gods assignde.

The golden Starres that guide their age,

and Planets will them so:

And Gods (the Rulers of their race)

procure them to forgo

Their forged faith and plighted truth,

with promise made so sure,

That is too séeming strong as Stéele,

and likely to endure.

For did not mightie Ioue himselfe

the swift Cyllenus sende

To will the Troyan Prince in haste

into Italia bende

And leaue the lyked lande so well,

and Carthage Quéene forsake,

That made him owner of hir hart,

and all that shée could make?

And such was Theseus lot perdie,

so hard the Maydens hap,

That shée in desart should be left

and caught in Bacchus trap.

Should Iason be proclaimde and cride

a Traitor to the Skies

For that he Medea left at last

by whome he wan the Flise?

No, such was Oetes Daughters chaunce

in Cradle hir assignde,

[Page] And Iasans Birthstarre forst the Gréeke

to showe himselfe vnkinde:

For if rewardes might binde so fast,

and knit the knot so sure,

Their faith (no doubt) and lincked loue

should then of force endure.

For Dido gaue him Carthage Kayes,

the wealth, and soile withall:

Those other two preserude their liues

that else had liude in thrall.

Then sithens streaming Starres procure,

and fatall powers agree,

And stawled Gods doe condiscend

that I my friendship flee:

And reaue your Bells and cast you off

to liue in haggards wies,

That for no priuate stale doe care,

but loue to range the Skies:

I must not séeme then to rebell

nor secret Treason forge,

But chaunge my choyce, and leaue my looue

and fansies fonde disgorge.

I craue of Cupid Lorde of loue

a pardon for the same,

For that I now reiect his lawes

and quite renownce his game.

Of Ladie Venus, that hauing lost hir Sonne Cupid God of Loue, and desirous to vnderstand of him againe, declares by the way the nature of Loue and affections of the same, by pretie discription as followeth.

[Page]

WHat time the Ladie Venus sought hir little Sonne

That Cupid hight, & found him not, she thus begonne

My friends (quoth she) if any chaunce in open streete

Or crossing pathes, yt wandring amorous Elfe to meete,

That Runnagate (I say) is mine: who so by hap

Shall first bring tidings of the Boy, in Venus lap

Is sure to sit, and haue in price of taken paine.

A sugred kisse. But he that brings him home againe,

A busse? yea not a busse alone doubtlesse shall haue

But like a Friend I will entreate him passing braue.

I tell you tis a proper youth. Marke euery Lun

And member of my straid Sonne that is so trim.

Not sallow white his bodie is, but like to flame,

A fierce and fierie roling eie sets out the same.

A mischieuous wylie hart in Breast the Boy doth beare,

But yet his wordes are Honnie like and sweete to eare.

His talking tongue and meaning minde asunder goe.

Smooth filed stile for little cost he will bestowe.

But being once inflamde with ire and raging wrath,

A cruell canckred dogged hart the Vrchin hath.

False Foxely subtile Boy, and glosing lying Lad,

He sports to outward sight, but inward chafes like mad.

A curled Sconce he hath, with angrie frowning browe.

A little hand, yet Dart a cruell way can throwe.

To shadie A cheron sometime he flings the same,

And deepest damp of hollow Hell those Impes to tame.

Vpon his Carkasse not a cloth, but naked hee

Of garments goes, his minde is wrapt, and not to see.

[Page] Much like a fethred Foule he flies, & wags his wings

Now here now there: ye man somtime this Miser wrings

Sometimes againe the Lasse to loue he doth enforce,

Of neither kind, nor man nor maid, he hath remorce:

A little Bow the Boy doth beare in tender hande,

And in the same an Arrow nockt to string doth stand.

A slender Shaft, yet such a one as farre will flie,

And being shot from Cupids Bow will reach the Skie.

A pretie golden Quiuer hangs there albehinde

Vpon his back, wherein who so doth looke, shall finde

A sort of sharpe and lurching shafts, vnhappie Boy

Wherewith his Ladie Mother eke he doth annoy

Sometimes: but most of all the foolish fretting Elfe

In cruell wife doth cruelly torment and vex himselfe.

Doe beate the Boy and spare him not at all, if thou

On him doe chaunce to light: although frō childish brow

And moysted eies the trickling teares like flouds distill,

Beleeue him not, for chiefly then beguile he will.

Not if he smile vnlose his pyniond armes take heede,

With pleasāt home words though he thine eares dos feede

And craue a kisse, beware thou kisse him not at all:

For in his lips vile venom lurcks, and bitter Gall.

Or if with friendly face he seeme to yeelde his Bow

And shafts to thee, his proferde gifts (my Friend) forgo

Touch not with tender hand the subtile flattring Dart

Of Loue, for feare the fire thereof doe make thee smart.

Where this that I haue sayde be true,

Yee Louers I appeale to you.

For ye doe knowe Cupidos toyes,

Yee feele his smarts, yee taste his ioyes.

A fickle foolish God to serue,

I tearme him as he doth deserue.

Of the cruell hatred of Stepmothers.

[Page]

THe Sonne in lawe his Stepdame being dead,

Began hir Hierce with Garlands to cōmende:

Meane while there fell a stone vpon his head

From out the Tombe that brought the Boy abed,

A proofe that Stepdames hate hath neuer ende.

Againe.

GLad was ye sonne of frowning Beldams death,

To witnesse ioy to deck hir Tomb gan trudge:

A peece of Marbell fell and reft his breath

As he (good Lad) stoode strewing flowres beneath,

A signe ye Death dawnts not the mothers grudge.

To Cupid for reuenge of his vnkind and cruell Loue. Declaring his faithfull seruice and true hart both to the God of Loue and his Ladie.

IF I had béene in Troyan ground

When Ladie Venus tooke hir wound:

IF I in Gréekish campe had béene,

Or clad in armour had béene séene:

If Hector had by mée béene slaine,

Or Prince Aeneas put to paine:

If I the Machin huge had brought,

By Grecian guile so falsely wrought,

Or raysed it aboue the wall,

Of Troie that procurde the fall:

[Page] Then could I not thée (Cupid) blame,

If thou didst put mée to this shame.

But I haue alwaies béene as true

To thée and thine in order due,

As euer was there any Wight,

That fayth and truth to Cupid plight.

I neuer yet despise thy lawe,

But aye of thée did stand in awe:

I neuer callde thée Bussard blinde,

I no such fault in thée did finde,

But thought my time well spent to bée

That I imploide in seruing thée.

I wiste thou wert of force and powre

To conquere Princes in an howre

When thou retaindst mée as thy man

I thought my selfe most happie than.

Since this is true that I haue saide,

Good Cupid let mée haue thy aide,

Helpe mée to wreake my wrath aright

And succor mée to worke my spight.

To thée it appertaines of due

Him to assist that is so true:

And thou of reason shouldst torment

Such as by wilfull will are bent

To triumph ouer those that serue

Thée in the field, and neuer swerue,

Go bend thy Bowe with hastie spéede,

And make hir Tigers hart to bléede.

[Page] Cause hir that little sets by mee,

Yet still to stand in awe of thée.

Let hir perceiue thy feruent fire,

And what thou art in raging ire,

Now showe thy selfe no man to bée,

Let hir a God both féele and sée.

She forceth not my cutting paine,

Hir vowed othes shee wayes as vaine.

Shée sits in peace at quiet rest,

And scornes at mée so dispossest.

Shée laughes at thée, and mocks thy might,

Thou art not Cupid in hir sight.

Shée spites at mée without cause whie,

Shée forceth not although I die.

I am hir captiue bounde in Giue

And dare not once for lyfe to striue.

The more to thee I call and crie,

To rid mee from this crueltie,

The more shée séekes to worke hir ire,

The more shée burnes with scalding fire.

And all for Cupids sake I bide,

From whose decrées I doe not glide.

Wherefore (I say) go bende thy Bow,

And to hir hart an Arrow throw:

That Dart which breaketh harts of flint

And giues the cruell crasing dint,

Vpon hir crabbed breast bestow,

That shée thy force and powre may know:

[Page] That shée a Myrrour may be knowne

To such as be thy deadly fone,

So shall they good example take,

How to abuse men for thy sake.

Let hir (good Cupid) vnderstande,

That I am thine both hart and hande.

And to play quittance force a fire,

That shée may frie with whote desire

Of me, whome earst she put to paine,

And this is all that I would gaine.

An Aunswere to his Ladie, that willed him that absence should not breede forgetfulnesse.

THough Noble Surrey sayde

that absence woonders frame,

And makes things out of sight forgot,

and thereof takes his name:

Though some there are that force

but on their pleasures prest,

Vnmindefull of their plighted truth

and falsely forged hest:

Yet will I not approoue

mée guiltie of this crime,

Ne breake the friendship late begoon

as you shall trie in time.

No distance of the place

shall reaue thée from my brest:

[Page] Not fawning chaunce, nor frowning hap

shall make mée swarue my Hest.

As soone may Phoebus frame

his fierie Steades to roon

Their race from path they woonted were,

and ende where they begoon:

As soone shall Saturne cease

his bended broowes to show,

And frowning face to friendly Starres

that in their Circles go:

As soone the Tiger tame

and Lion shall you finde:

And brutish beastes that sauage were

shall swarue their bedlam kinde:

As soone the frost shall flame,

and Aetna cease to burne,

And restlesse Riuers to their springs

and Fountaines shall returne;

As absence bréede debate,

or want of sight procure

Our faithfull friendships writh awrie

whilst liuely breath indure.

As soone I will commit

my selfe to Lethes lake

As the (swéete friend) whome I a Friend

haue chose for vertues sake.

How may a man forget

the coale that burnes within?

[Page] Augmenting still his secret sore

by piercing fell and skin?

May Martirs cease to mourne

or thinke of torments prest,

Whilst paine to paine is added aie

to further their vnrest?

May Shipmen in distresse

at pleasure of the winde

Tost too and fro by surge of Seas

that they in tempest finde,

Forget Neptunus rage

or blustring Borias blast,

When Cables are in sunder crackt,

and tackle rent from Mast?

Ne may I (Friend) forget

(vnlesse I would but faine)

The salue that doth recure my sore

and heales the scarre againe.

I send thée by the winde

ten thousand sighes a day,

Which dim the Skies with clowdie smoke

as they doe passe away.

Oft gazing on the Sunne

I count Apollo blest,

For that he vewes thée once aday

in passing to the West.

Oh that I had his powre

and blasing Lampe of light

[Page] Then thou my Friend should stand asurde

to neuer sée the night.

But since it is not so,

content thy selfe a while:

And with remembrance of thy Friend

the lothsome time begile.

Till Fortune doe agrée

that we shall méete againe:

For then shall presence bréede our ioyes

whome absence put to paine.

And of my olde good will

(good Friend) thy selfe assure

Haue no distrust, my loue shall last

as long as life shall dure.

Of a Thracyan that was drownde by playing on the Ise.

A Thracyan Boy well tipled all the day

Vpon a frozen Spring did sport and play,

The slipper Ise with hieft of bodies sway

On sodaine brake, & swapt his head away:

It swam aloft, bylowe the Carcas lay.

The Mother came and bore the head away:

When shée did burie it thus gan shée say.

This brought I foorth in flame his Hierce to haue,

The rest amids the flood to finde a graue.

The Louer hoping in May to haue had redresse of his woes, and yet fowly missing his purpose, bewailes his cruell hap.

[Page]

MOu that in May haue bathde in blis

And found a salue to ease your sore:

Doe May obseruaunce, Reason is

That May should honord be therfore.

Awake out of your drowsie sléepe

And leaue your tender Beds of Downe,

Of Cupids Lawes that taken kéepe

With Sommer flowers deck your Crowne.

As soone as Venus Starre doth showe

That brings the dawning on his back

And chéerefull light begins to growe

By putting of his Foe to wrack:

Repair to heare the wedded Makes

And late ycoupled in a knote,

The Nightingale that sits in Brakes

And telles of Tereus truth by note:

The Thrussell, with the Turtle Doue,

The little Robin eke yfeare

That make rehearsall of their loue,

Make haste (I say) that yee were theare.

Into the fieldes where Dian dwels

With Nimphes enuirond round about,

Haste yée to daunce about the Wels,

A fit pastime for such a rout.

[Page] Let them doe this that haue receiude

In May the hire of hoped grace:

But I as one that am bereaude

Of blissefull state, will hide my face,

And doole my daies with ruthfull voice

As fits a retchlesse Wight to doe:

Since now it lies not in my choise

To quite mée from this cursed woe.

I harbour in my breast a thought

Which now is turnde another way,

That pleasaunt May would mée ybrought

From Scylla to a better bay.

Since all (quoth I) that Nature made,

And placed here in earth bylowe,

When Spring returnes, of woonted trade

Doe banish griefe that earst did growe,

And chaungeth eke the churlish chéere

And frowning face of Tellus hewe,

With vernant flowers that appéere

To clad the soile with mantell newe:

Since Snakes doe cast their shriueled skinnes,

And Bucks hang vp their heads on pale,

Since frisking Fishes lose their finnes,

And glide with new repaired scale:

Then I of force with gréedie eie

Must hope to finde to ease my smart,

Since eche anoy in Spring doth die,

And cares to comfort doe conuart.

[Page] Then I (quoth I) shall reach the port

And fast mine Aucker on the ground,

Where lyes my pleasure and disport

Where is my suretie to be found:

There shall my beaten Barke haue rode,

And I for seruice done be paid,

My sorrowes quite shall be vnlode,

Euen thus vnto my selfe I said.

But (out alas) it falles not so,

May is to mée a Month of mone,

In May though others comfort gro,

My séedes of griefe are surely sowne.

My bitter Teares for water serue

Wherewith the Garden of my brest

I moist, for feare the seedes should sterue,

And thus I frame mine owne vnrest.

Let others then that féelen ioy

Extole the merrie Month of May,

And I that tasted haue annoy,

In praise thereof will nothing say.

But wish returne of winters warre

And blustring force of Borias force againe.

These sower séedes of wo to marre

By force of winde and wisking raine.

And so perhaps by better fate

At next returne of Spring, I may

By chaunging of my former state

Cast off my care, and chaunge my lay.

To a fickle and vnconstant Dame, a friendly warning.

[Page]

WHat may I thinke of you (my Fawlcon frée)

That hauing hood, lines, buets, bels of mée,

And woonted earst when I my game did spring

To flie so well and make such nimble wing,

As might no Fowle for weightnesse well compare

With thée, thou wert a Bird so passing rare:

What may I déeme of thée (fayre Fawlcon) now,

That neyther to my lure nor traine wilt bow.

But this that when my back is turnde and gon,

Another giues thée rumpes to tyre vpon.

Well wanton well, if you were wise in déede

You would regard the fist whereon you féede.

You would the Horse deuouring Crow refuse,

And gorge your selfe with fleshe more fine to chuse.

I wishe thée this for woonted olde good will

To flie more high, for feare the stowping will

Bréede him, that now doth kéepe thée, out of loue

And thinke his Fawlcon will a Bussard proue.

Which if he deeme, or doe suspect at all,

He will abate thy flesh, and make thée fall.

So that of force thou shalt enforced bée

Too doe by him as nowe thou dost by mée:

That is to leaue the Kéeper, and away,

Fawlcon take héede, for this is true I say.

The Louer to his Ladie that gafed much vp to the Skies.

[Page]

MY Girle, thou gazest much

vpon the golden Skies:

Would I were Heauen, I would behold

thée then with all mine eies.

The Penitent Louer vtterly renouncing loue, craues pardon of forefassed follies.

IF such as did amisse

and ran their race awrie,

May boldely craue at Iudges hand

some mercie ere they die,

And pardon for their gilt

that wilfully transgrest,

And sawe the bownds before their eies

that vertue had addrest:

Then I that brake the bancks

which Reason had assignde

To such as would pursue hir traine,

may stande in hope to finde

Some fauour at hir hand:

since blinde forecast was cause,

And not my wilfull will in fault

that I haue swerude hir lawes.

Misguided haue I béene

and trayned all by trust,

[Page] And Loue was forger of the fraude,

and furtherer of my lust.

Whose vele did daze mine eies,

and darckned so my sight

With errors foggie mist at first,

that Reason gaue no light.

And as those wofull Wightes

that saile on swelling Seas,

When windes and wrathfull waues conspire

to banish all their ease,

When heauenly Lamps are hid

from Shipmens hungrie eies,

And Lodestarres are in couert kept

within the cloudie Skies:

As they without respect

doe follow Fortunes lore,

And run at randome in the flood

where Aeols Impes doe rore,

Till golden crested Phebe,

or else his Sisters light,

Haue chasde away those noysome clouds,

and put the same to flight:

So I (vnhappie man)

haue followde Loue a space,

And felt the whottest of his flame,

and flashing fierie blase.

In darknesse haue I dwelt,

and Errours vglie shade,

[Page] Vnwitting how to raise a Starre

from perill to cuade.

Few daies came on my head

wherein was cause of ioy,

But day and night were readie both

to hasten mine anoy.

Short were my sléepes (God wot)

most dreadfull were my dreames,

Mine eies (as Conduits of the hart)

did gush out saltish streames.

Tormented was my Corse,

my minde was neuer frée,

But both repleate with anguish aye

disseuerde sought to bée.

No place might like mée long,

no pleasure could endure,

In stead of sport was smart at hande,

for pastime paine in vre.

A Bondman to my selfe,

yet frée in others sight,

Not able to resist the rage

of winged Archers might.

Thus haue I spent my time

in seruage as a Thrall,

Till Reason of hir bountie list

mée to hir mercie call.

Now haue I made returne,

and by good hap retirde

[Page] From Cupids Camp and déepe Dispaire:

and once againe aspirde

To Ladie Reasons stawle

where wisedome throned is,

On promise of amends releast

is all that was amis.

To Plato now I flie,

and Senecs sound aduice:

A Fatch for Loue, I force not now

what Chaunce fall on the Dice.

To his Friend that refusde him without cause why but onely vpon delight of chaunge.

YOu showe your selfe to bée

a Woman right by kinde:

You lyke and then mislyke againe

where you no cause doe finde.

I can not thinke that loue

was planted in your brest,

As did your flattring lookes declare,

and periurde tongue protest.

Thou swarste alone that I

thy fansie did subdue,

Then why should frensie force thée now

to show thy selfe vntrue?

[Page] Fie faithlesse woman fie,

wilt thou condemne the kinde

Bicause of iust report of yll

and blot of wauering minde?

Too playne it now appeares

that lust procurde thy loue,

Or else it would not so decay

and causelesse thus remoue.

I thought that I at first

a Lucrece had subdude,

But nowe I finde that fansie fonde

my senses did delude

I déemde that I had got

a Fawlcon to the fist,

Whome I might quickly haue reclaimde,

but I my purpose mist.

For (oh) the worser hap

my Fawlcon is so frée,

As downe shée stoupes to straungers lure

and forceth least of mée.

Good shape was yll bestowde

vpon so vile a Kite,

That Haggard wise doth loue to liue

and doth in chaunge delight.

Yéeld me thy flanting Hood,

shake off those Belles of thine,

Such checking Bussards yll deserue

or Bell or Hood so fine.

[Page] With Fowles of baser sort

how can you brooke too flie,

That earst your Nature did to Hawkes

of stately kinde applie?

If want of pray enforste

this chaunge thou art too blame:

For I had euer traines in store

to make my Fawlcon game.

I had a Tassell eke

full gentle by his kinde,

Too flie with thée in vse of wing

the greater ioy to finde.

No, doubtlesse wanton lust

and fleshly fowle desire

Did make thée loath my friendly lure,

and set thy hart on fire

Too trie what mettall was

in Bussards to be founde

This, this was it that made thée stowpe

from loftie gate to grounde.

Wherefore if euer luck

doe let me light on thée,

And Fortune graunt me once againe

thy keeper for to bée:

Thy diet shall be such,

thy tyring rumpes so bare,

As thou shalt know thy kéeper well,

and for none other care.

[Page] Meanewhile on carren féede,

thy hungrie gorge to glut:

That all thy lust in daylie chaunge

and diet new dost put.

Diseases must of force

such féeding fowle ensue:

No force to me, thou wert my Bird,

But (Fawlcon) now adue.

To one that vpon surmise of aduersitie, forewent hir Friend.

AS too the whyte, and lately lymed house

The Doues doe flock in hope of better fare,

And leaue their home of Culuers cleane and bare:

As to the Kitchin postes the péeping Mouse

Where Vittailes fine and curious Cates are drest,

And shoons the shop where liuelyhood waxeth thin,

Where he before had fillde his emptie skin,

And where he chose him first to be a guest:

As Lyse vnto the lyuing Carcasse cleane,

But balke the same made readie to the Beare,

So you that earst my Friend to séeming weare,

In happie state: your néedie Friend doe leaue.

Vnfriendly are those other, Doue and Mouse

That doe refuse olde harbour for a newe

And make exchaunge for lodge they neuer knewe,

Vnfriendly eke the slowe and lumpish Lowse.

[Page] But more vnciuill you that wittie arre

To iudge a Friend, your Friendship to forgo,

Without a cause and make exchaunges so:

For friendes are néeded most in time of warre.

Put case that Chaunce withdrew hir olde good will

And frownde on mée to whome shee was a friend?

Is that a reason why your loue should end?

No, no, you should a friend continue still.

For true good will in miserie is tride,

For then will none but faithfull friends abide.

To Maister Googes fansie that begins Giue Monie mee take friendship who so list.

FRiend Googe, giue me ye faithfull friend to trust,

And take the fickle Coine for mée that lust.

For Friends in time of trouble and distresse

With help and sound aduise will soone redresse

Eche growing griefe that gripes the pensiue brest,

When Monie lies lockt vp in couert Chest.

Thy Coine will cause a thousand cares to grow,

Which if thou hadst no Coine yu couldst not know,

Thy Friend no care but comfort will procure,

Of him thou mayst at néede thy selfe assure.

Thy Monie makes the Théefe in waite to lie,

Whose fraude thy Friend & falsehood will descrie.

Thou canst not kéepe vnlockt thy carefull Coine,

But some from thée thy Monie will purloine:

[Page] Thy faithfull Friend will neuer start aside,

But take his share of all that shall beride.

When thou art dead thy Monie is bereft

But after life thy trustie Friend is left:

Thy Monie serues another Maister than,

Thy faythfull Friend lincks with none other man.

So that (Friend Googe) I deeme it better I,

To choose the Friend and let the Monie lie.

The Louer abused renownceth Loue.

FOr to reuoke to pensiue thought

And troubled head my former plight,

How I by earnest sute haue sought

And griefull paines a louing Wight

For to accoy, accoy,

And bréede my ioy

Without anoy, makes saltish bryne

To flush out of my vapord eyne.

¶ To thinke vpon the sundrie snares

And priuie Panthers that were led

To forge my daylie dolefull cares,

Whereby my hoped pleasures fled,

Doth plague my hart, my hart,

With deadly smart,

Without desart, that haue indurde

Such woes, and am not yet recurde,

[Page] ¶Was neuer day came on my hed

Wherein I did not sue for grace,

Was neuer night but I in bed

Vnto my Pillow tolde my case,

Bayning my brest, my brest,

For want of rest,

With teares opprest, yet remedie none

Was to be found for all my mone.

¶If she had dained my good will

And recompenst me with hir Loue,

I would haue béene hir Vassell still,

And neuer once my hart remoue:

I did pretend, pretend,

To be hir Friend

Vnto the end, but she refusde

My louing hart, and me abusde.

¶I did not force vpon the spite

And venemous stings of hissing Snakes,

I wayed not their words a Mite,

That such a doe at Louers makes:

I did reioyce, reioyce,

To haue the voyce

Of such a choyce, and smild to sée

That they reported so of mée.

¶Oh mée most luckie Wight (quoth I)

At whome the people so repine,

I trust the rumor that doth flie

Will force hir to my will incline,

[Page] And like well mée, well mée

Whome shee doth sée,

Hir loue to bée, vnfainedly,

In whome shée may full well affie.

¶But now at length I plainely vew

That woman neuer gaue hir brest,

For they by kindly course will rue

On such as seeme to loue them best:

And will relent, relent

And be content,

When nought is ment, saue friendly hart

And loue for neuer to depart.

¶Some cruell Tiger lent hir Te [...]

And fostred hir with sauage Pap,

That can not finde in hart to let

A man to loue hir, since his hap

Hath so assignde, assignde

To haue his minde

To loue inclinde, in honest wise

Whome shée should not of right despise.

¶But since I sée hir stonie hart

Cannot be pierst with pitties Launce,

Since nought is gainde but wofull smart,

I doe intende to breake the daunce,

And quite forgo, forgo

My pleasaunt Fo,

That paines mée so, and thinkes in fine

To make me like to Circes Swine:

[Page] ¶I cleane defie hir flattering face,

I quite abhorre hir luring lookes:

As long as Ioue shall giue mée grace

Shée neuer comes within my bookes,

I doe detest, detest

So false a Guest

That breedes vnrest, where she should plant

Hir loue, if pittie did not want.

¶Let hir go séeke some other Foole,

Let hir inrage some other Dolt:

I haue béene taught in Platos Schoole

From Cupids Banner to reuolt:

And to forsake, forsake

As fearefull Snake,

Such as doe make, a man but smart

For bearing them a faithfull hart.

The forsaken Louer laments that his Ladie is matched with an other.

AS Menelaus did lament

When Helena to Troie went,

And to the Teucrian Guest applide

And all hir Countrie Friends defide:

Euen so I féele tormenting paine

To lurck in erie little vaine,

And ransack all my Corse, to sée

That shée hath now forsaken mee,

The faithfull Friend that she could finde:

But fickle Dames will to their kinde.

[Page] A simple chaunge in fayth it was

To leaue the Lyon for the Asse,

Such chopping will but make you bare

And spend your lyfe in carek and care,

You might haue taken better héede

Then left the Graine, and chose the wéede:

Your Haruest would the better beene

If you had to your Bargin séene,

But to recant it is to late,

Go too, a Gods name to your Mate,

Tis Muck that makes the Pot to play

As men of olde were woont to say,

And women marrie for the gaine

Though oft it fall out to their paine:

And as I gesse thou hast ydoon

When all thy twist is throughly spoon,

It will appéere vnto thy foes,

Thou pluckst a Nettle for a Rose:

In faith thy Friend would loth to sée

Thy curssed luck so yll to bée.

Of one that was in reuersion.

ANother hath that I did bie,

and I enioy that hée imbraste:

I reape the Graine, and pluck the Peare,

but he had Peare and Corne at laste.

Which fithens Fortune hath allowde,

let eyther well contented bee:

[Page] I hate him not for his delights,

then let him doe the lyke too mée.

For sowe both be pleasde, I say,

this bargaine was deuised well:

Let him with present good delight

as I what time to mée it fell.

If euer he by hap forgo,

I trust my hope is not in vaine,

I hope the thing I once enioyde

will to his owner come againe.

Which if be so, then happie I

that had the first, and haue the laste:

What better fortune may there bée

than in Reuersion to be plaste.

That all hurts and losses are to be recouered and recured saue the cruell wound of Loue.

THe Surgion may deuise

a Salue for erie sore,

And to recure all inwarde griefes

Phisitions haue in store

Their Simples to compownde

and match in mixture so,

As ech disease from sicklie Corse

they can enforce to go.

The wastfull wrack of welth

that Merchants doe sustaine,

[Page] By happie vent of gotten wares

may be supplide againe.

A Towne by treason lost,

a Forte by falsehood woon,

By manly fight is got againe

and helpe of hurtfull Goon.

Thus eche thing hath redresse

and swéete recure againe:

Saue onely Loue, that farther frets,

and feedes on inward paine.

No Galen may this griefe

by Phisicks force expell:

No Reasons rule may ought preuaile

where lurcking Loue doth dwell.

The Patient hath no powre

of holesome things to taste:

No Drench, no Drug, nor Sirop swéete

his hidden harme may waste.

No comfort comes by day,

no pleasant sléepe by night:

No néedefull nap at Noone may ease

the Louers painefull plight.

In deepe dispaire he dwels

till in comes hope of ease,

Which somewhat lessens paines of Loue,

and calmes the surge of Seas.

His head is fraught with thoughts,

his hart with throwes repleate:

[Page] His eies amazde, his quaking hand,

his stomack lothing meate.

This bale the Louer bides

and hatefull Hagge of Hell,

And yet himselfe doth déeme that hée

in Paradyce doth dwell.

Of the choise of his Valentine.

WIth others I to choose a Valentine

Addrest my selfe: Ech had his dearest friend

In Scrole ywrit, among the reast was mine.

Sée now the luck by lot that Chaunce doth send

To Cupids crewe, marke Fortune how it falls,

And mark how Venꝰ Imps are Fortūs thralls.

The Papers were in couert kept from sight,

In hope I went to note what hap would fall:

I choze, but on my Friend I could not light,

(Such was the Goddesse wil that wildes the Ball)

But sée good luck, although I mist the same,

I hapt on one that bare my Ladies name.

Vnegall though their beauties were to looke,

Remembrance yet of hir well feauturde fare

So often séene, thereby my Senses tooke,

Vnhappie though shee were not then in place:

Long you to learne what name my Ladie hight?

Account from V. to. A. and spell aright.

Of an open Foe and a fayned Friend.

[Page]

NOt he so much anoies

that sayes: I am thy Fo,

As he that beares a hatefull hart,

and is a Friend to sho.

Of tone we may beware,

and flie his open hate,

But tother bites before he barck,

a hard auoyded Mate.

Againe.

OF both giue mée the man

that sayes, I hate in déede:

Than him that hath a Knife to kill,

yet weares a friendly wéede.

Of a Ritch Miser.

A Misers minde thou hast,

thou hast a Princes pelfe:

Which makes thée welthy to thine Heire,

a Beggar to thy selfe.

Of a Painter that painted Fauour.

[Page]

THou (Painter fond) what meanes this mad deuise

Fauour to drawe? sith vncouth is the hed

From whence it comes, and first of all was bred?

Some deeme that it of Beautie doth arise,

Dame Fortunes Babie and vndoubted Sonne,

Some other doe furmise this Fauour was:

Againe, some thinke by Chaunce it came to passe,

Another saies of Vertue it begonne.

What Mate is he that daylie is at hand?

Quest

Faire speaking he and glosing Flattrie hight.

Auns.

What he that slowly comes behind? Auns. Despight.

Quest

What they (I pray) that him inuiron stand?

Ques [...]

Wealth, Honor, Pride, and Noble needefull Lawes.

Auns.

And leading Lust that driues to thousand ills.

What meane those wings, & painted quiuering Quills?

Ques [...]

Cause vpward aie Dame Fortune Fauour drawes.

Auns.

Why blinde is Fauour made?

Ques [...]

(Auns.) for cause that he

That is vnthriftie once yplast amownt

From baser step not had in any cownt

Can not discerue his Friends, or who they be.

Why treades he on the tickle turning wheele?

Ques [...]

He followes Fortunes steps and giddie Gate

Auns.

Vnstaied Chaunces aie vnstedfast Mate:

And when that things are well, can neuer feele.

Then tell me one thing else to pease my minde

My last demaund. what meanes his swelling so?

Quest

How chaunst that Fauour doth so prowdly go?

Auns.

Good haps by course vs Men doe maken blinde.

The Louer whose Lady dwelt fast by a Prison.

ONe day I hide mee fast vnto the place

where lodgde my Loue, a passing propre dame

[Page] For head, hand, leg, lim, wealth, wit, comly grace:

And being there my sute I gan to frame,

The smokie sighes bewrayde my fierie flame.

But cruell shee, disdainefull, coy and curst,

Forst not my words, but quaild hir Friend at furst.

Whereat I lookte me vp a wofull Wight,

And threw mine eies vp to the painted Skie,

In minde to waile my hap: And saw in sight

Not farre from thence a place where Prisners lie,

For crimes forepast the after paines to trie:

A Laberinth, a lothsome Lodge to dwell,

A Dungeon déepe, a Dampe as darke as Hell.

Oh happie you (quoth I) that féele the force

Of girding Gyue, thirst, colde and stonie bed,

Respect of mée, whose loue hath no remorce:

In death you liue, but I in life and ded,

Your ioy is yet to come, my pleasure fled.

In prison you haue mindes at fréedome aye,

I frée am thrall, whose loue séekes his decaye.

Vnworthy you to liue in such distresse

Whose former faults repentance did bewaile:

More fitter were this Ladie mercilesse

At grate to stand, with whome no teares preuaile:

More worthy she to liue in lothsome Gaile

That murders such as sue to hir for lyfe,

And spoyles hir faithfull Friends wt spiteful knyfe.

Complaint of the long absence of his Loue vpon the first acquaintance.

[Page]

O Cursed, cruell, canckred Chaunce,

O Fortune full of spight,

Why hast thou so on sodaine rest

from mée my chiefe delight?

What glorie shalt thou gaine perdie

or purchace by the rage?

This is no Conquest to be callde,

wherefore thy wrath asswage.

To soone eclipsed was my ioy,

my dolors grow to fast:

For want of hir that is my life,

my life it can not last.

Is this thy fickle kind so soone

to hoise a man to ioy,

And ere he touch the top of blisse

to bréede him such anoy?

Nowe doe I plaine perceiue and sée

that Poets faine not all,

For churlish Chaunce is counted blinde

and full of filthy Gall.

I thought there had béene no such Dame

ne Goddesse on a whéele:

But now too well I know hir kinde,

too soone hir force I féele.

[Page] And that which doth augment my smart

and maketh more my wo,

Is, for I felt a sodaine ioy

where now this griefe doth grow.

If thou hadst ment (vnhappie Hap)

thus to haue nipt my ioy,

Why didst thou show a smyling chéere

that shouldst haue lookte acoy?

For griefes doe nothing grudge at all

but where was blisse before:

None wailes the want of wealth so much

as he that had the store.

Not he that neuer saw the Sunne

complaines for lack of light,

But such as saw his golden gleames

and knew his chéerefull might.

Too late I learne through spitefull chaunce

that ioy is mixt with wo,

And eche good hap hath hate in hoorde,

the course of things is so.

So Poyson lurcks in Suger swéete,

the Hooke so hides the bayte:

Euen so in gréene and pleasant grasse

the Serpent lies in wayte.

Vlysses wife I learne at last

thy sorrow and distresse,

In absence of thy lingring Loue,

that should thy woes redresse.

[Page] Great was your griefe (ye Gréekish Girlles)

whilste stately Troie stood,

And kept your husbands from your laps

in perill of their blood.

All ye therefore that haue assayde

what torments lack procures

Of that you loue, lament my lack

which ouerlong endures.

Ye Winds transport my soking sighes

to my new chosen Friende,

So may my sorrow swage perhaps

and dréerie state haue ende.

Ye Sighes make true report of teares,

that so beraine my brest,

As Helens husbands neuer were

for treason of his Guest.

If thou (my Letter) maist attaine

the place of hir abode,

Doe thou, as Herauld of the hart,

my sorrowes quite vnlode.

In thée as in a Myrronr cléere

or Christall may she vewe

My pangues, my paynes, my sighes and teares

which Tigers could but rewe.

There shall shée see my secret parts

encombred all with mone,

My fainting lims, my vapord eien

with hart as colde as stone.

[Page] I know shée can but rue my case

when thou presents my sute,

Wherefore play thou thy part so well

that I may reape the frute.

And if (when shée hath read thée through)

shée place thée in hir lap,

Then chaunge thy chéere thy Maister hath

his long desired hap.

The ventrous Louer after long absence craues his Ladie to meete with him in place to enterparle of hir auentures.

IF so Leander durst

from Abydon to Sest

To swim to Herô whome he chose

his Friend aboue the rest,

And gage his comely corse

vnto the sowsing Tyde

To lay his water beaten lims

fast by hir tender side:

Then I (my Deare) whose gleames

and ardor doth surpasse

The scorching flame and blasing heate

that in Leander was,

May well presume to take

the greatest toyle in hande,

[Page] To reach the place where thou dost lodge

the chiefe of Venus bande.

For not Leanders loue

my friendship doth excell,

Nor Herô may compare with hir

that beares Dame Beauties Bell.

There resteth nought for thée

but to assigne the place,

The mirrie day, the ioyfull houre

when I may sée thy face:

Appoint the certaine Tide

and fixed stem of stay,

And thou shalt sée thy faithfull Friend

will quickly come his way

Not dréeding any doubt:

but ventrously will go

Through thick and thin to gaine a glimse

of thée his sugred fo.

Where when by hap we méete,

our long endured woes

Shall stint by force of friendly thoughts

which we shall then discloes.

Then eyther may vnfolde

the secrets of the hart,

And show how long dislodge hath bred

our cruell cutting smart.

Then may we fréely chat

of all forepassed toyes,

[Page] And put those pensiue pangues to flight

with new recourse of ioyes.

Then pleasure shall possesse

the lodge were Dolour lay,

And mirrie blincks put cloudes of care

and lowring lookes away.

Then kissing may be plide

and clipping put in vre,

And lingred sores by Cupids salues

aspire to quick recure.

Oh dréede thou not at all,

set womans feare a part

And take the courage of a man,

that hast a manly hart

In hostage aie with thée

to vse at thy deuise.

In all affaires and needefull houres

as matter shall arise.

Reuoke to louing minde

how ventrous Thisbe met

In fearefull night with Pyramus

where Nynus Tombe was set.

So hazard thou to come

vnto the pointed place,

To thwart thy Friend, and méete with him

that longs to sée thy face.

Who better will attend

thy friendly comming there,

[Page] Than Pyramus of Thysbe did

his disappointed Féere.

For (oh) their méeting was

the reauer of their breath,

The crop of endlesse care, and cause

of either Louers death.

But we so warely will

our fixed time attende,

As no mishap shall grow thereby.

And thus I make an ende

With wishing well to thee,

and hope to méete in place

To enterparle with thée (my Friend)

and tell my dolefull case.

To Maister Googe his Sonet out of sight out of thought.

THe lesse I see, the more my téene,

The more my teene the greater griefe

The greater griefe, the lesser séene,

The lesser séene, the lesse reliefe:

The lesse reliefe the heuier spright,

When P. is farthest out of sight.

The rarer séene, the rifer sobs,

The rifer sobbes, the sadder hart,

The sadder hart, the greater throbs,

The greater throbs, the worser smart,

[Page] The worser smart procéedes of this

That I my P. so often misse.

The néerer too, the more I smile,

The more I smile, the merier minde:

The mirrie minde doth thought exile,

And thought exilde recourse I finde

Of heauenly ioyes: all this delight

Haue I when P. is once in fight.

The Louer whose Mistresse feared a Mouse, declareth that he would become a Cat, if he might haue his desire.

IF I might alter kinde,

what thinke you I would bée,

Nor Fish, nor Foule, nor Fle, nor Frog,

nor Squirrell on the Tree.

The Fish the hooke, the Foule

the lymed twig doth catch,

The Fle the Finger, and the Frog

the Buffard doth dipatch.

The Squirrell thincking nought

that feately cracks the Nut,

The gréedie Gashauke wanting pray

in dread of death doth put.

¶But scorning all these kindes

I would become a Cat,

[Page] To combat with the créeping Mouse

and scratch the scréeking Rat.

I would be present aye

and at my Ladies call,

To gard hir from the fearefull Mouse

in Parlour and in Hall.

In Kitching for his life

he should not shew his hed,

The Peare in Poke should lie vntoucht

when shée were gone to bed.

The Mouse should stand in feare,

so should the squeaking Rat:

All this would I doe if I were

conuerted to a Cat.

The Louer driuen to absent him from his Ladie, bawayles his estate.

WHen angrie Gréekes wt Troians fought

In minde to sack their welthie Towne,

King Agamemnon needefull thought

To beate the neighbour Cities downe,

And by his Princely power to quell

Such as by Priams Realme did dwell.

Thus forth he trauailde with his traine

Till he vnto Lyrnesus came,

Where cruell fight he did maintaine,

And fiue such Wights as were of fame:

[Page] Downe went the walles and all to wrack

And so was Lyrnes brought to sack.

Two Noble Dames of passing shape

Vnto the Prince were brought in fine

That might compare with Paris rape,

Their glimring beauties so did shine:

The Prince chose fairest of the twaine,

And Achyll tother for his paine.

And thus the warlike Chiefetaines liude

Eche with his Ladie in delight:

Till Agamemnon was depriude

Of hir that golden Chryses hight.

For Gods did will as (Poets faine)

That he should yéelde hir vp againe.

Which done, he reft Achylles Mate

To serue in Chrysis place at néede,

Not forcing on the fowle debate

That followde of that cruell déede:

For why Achylles grutged fore

To lose the Lasse he wan before.

And what for griefe and great disdaine

The Gréeke his Helmet hoong aside,

And Sworde that many a Knight had slaine,

And Shield that Troian Darts had tride:

Refusing to approch the place

Where he was woont his foes to chase.

His manly courage was appallde

His valiant hart began to yeelde,

[Page] His brawned armes that earst were gallde

With clattering Armour in the field

Had lost their force, his fist did faint,

His gladsome songs were growne to plaint.

His mouth refusde his woonted foode,

His tongue could féele no taste of meat,

His hanging chéekes declarde his moode,

His feltred beard with haire vnset,

Bewraid his sodaine chaunge of cheere

For loosing of his louing Feere.

His eares but sorrowes sounde could heare,

The Trumpets tune was quite forgot,

His eies were fraught with many a teare,

Whome carcking care permitted not

The pleasant slumber to retaine

To quite the sielie Misers paine.

The thousande part of pensiue care

The Noble Gréeke endured than

In Bryseis absence, to declare

It farre surmounts the Wit of man:

But sure a Martyr right he liude

Of Bryseis beautie once beriude.

If thus Achylles valiant hart

Were wrapt in web of wailefull wo,

That was invrde too dint of Dart

His louing Bryseis to forgo.

If thus the sturdie Gréeke (I say)

Bewaild the night and wept the day:

[Page] Then blame not mée a louing Wight

Whome Nature made to Cupids Bow

To liue in such a piteous plight,

Bewasht with waues of woorser wo

Than euer was the Gréekish Péere

Dispoiled of his Darling déere.

For I of force am faine to flée

The presse, the presence and the place

Of you my Loue a brauer B

Than Bryseis was for foote and face,

For Head, for Hande, for Carkasse éeke

Not to be matcht of any Gréeke.

Whose troth you haue full often tride,

Whose hart hath béene vnfolded quight

Whose faith by friendship was descride

Whose ioy consisted in your sight,

Whose paine was pleasure if in place

He might but gaze vpon thy face.

O dolefull Gréeke I would I might

Exchaunge my trouble for thy paine,

For then I hope I should acquite

My griefe with gladsome ioyes againe:

For Bryseis made returne to thée,

Would B. might doe the like to mée.

But to exchaunge my Loue for thine,

Or B. for Bryseis I ne would:

To labour in the Leaden Mine.

And leaue the ground where growes the Golde

[Page] I minde it not, it follie were

To choose the pare, and leaue the Peare.

That Louers ought rather at first acquaintance to shew their meanings by Pen then by Mouth.

IF all that feele the fits of loue

And flanckring sparkes of Cupids fire,

By tatling tongues should say to moue

Their Ladies to their fonde desire:

No doubt a number would but gaine

A badge of Follie for their paine.

For Ladyes eyther would suspect

Those sugred wordes so swéete to eare

With secrete poysons baite infect:

Or else would wisely stand in feare,

That all such flame as so did burne

To dustie Cinders soone would turne.

For he that bluntly doth presume

On small acquaintance to display

His hidden fire by casting fume

Of wanton words, doth misse the way

To win the Wight he honours so,

For of a Friend he makes a Fo.

For who is shée that may endure

The dapper tearmes that Louers vse?

And painted Proems to procure

The Modest Matrons minde to muse?

[Page] No, first let writings go to tell

Your Ladies that you loue them well.

And when that time hath triall made

Of perfite loue and faithfull brest,

Then boldly may you further wade

This counsell I account the best:

And this (my Deare) procurde my Quill

To write, and tongue to be so still.

Which now at first shall flatly showe

(As faithfull Herauld of the hart

The perfite loue to thee I owe

That bréedst my ioy, and wilt my smart,

Vnlesse at last (Remembrance) rue

Vpon hir (Thought) that will be true.

Wherefore I say, go slender scrole

To hir the sielie Mouse that shonnes,

Salute in friendly sort the soule

Among those pretie beastes that wonnes,

That bit the Pocat for the Peare,

And bred the soule to such a feare.

¶ An Epitaph of Maister Win drowned in the Sea.

WHo so thou art that passest by this place

And runst at random on the slipper way,

Recline thy listning eare to mée a space

Doe stay thy ship & hearken what I saye:

[Page] Cast Ankor here vntill my tale be donne,

So maist thou chaunce the lyke mishaps to shonne.

Learne this of mée, that men doe liue to die

And Death decayes the worthiest Wightes of all,

No worldly welth or kingdomes can supplie

Or garde their Princes from the fatall fall:

One way to come vnto this lyfe we sée,

But to be rid thereof a thousand bée.

My gallant youth and frolick yeares behight

Mee longer age, and siluer haires to haue,

I thought my day would neuer come to night,

My prime prouokte me to forget my graue:

I thought by water to haue scapte the death

That now amid the Seas doe lose my breath.

Now, now the churlish chanell me doth check

Now surging Seas conspire to bréede my carke

Now fighting flouds enforce me to the rock,

Charybdis Whelps and Scyllas Dogs doe barke

Now hope of life is past, now, now I see

That W. can no more a liues man bée.

Yet I doe well affie for my desart

(When cruell death hath done the worst it may)

Of well renowmed Fame to haue a part

To saue my name from ruine and decay:

And that is all that thou or I may gaine,

And so adue, I thanke thée for thy paine.

Againe.

[Page]

O Neptune churlish Chuff, O wayward Woolfe

O God of Seas by name, no God in déede,

O Tyran, Ruler of the grauell Goolfe

Where greater Fish on lesser Spawne doth féede

Why didst yu drench with deadly Mace a Wight

That well deserude to run his course aright?

O cruell cursed Tide, O weltring Waue

That W. wrought this detestable care,

O wrathfull surge, why wouldst y• not vouchsafe

A mid thy rage so good a youth to spare,

And suffer him in luckie Bark to reach

The pleasant port of ease and blisfull beach?

But what though surging Seas & tossing Tide

Haue done their worst and vttered all their force

In working W. wrack, that so hath tride

The cruelst rage that might befall his Corse:

Yet naythelesse his euer during name

Is fast ingraude within the house of Fame.

Let Fishes féede vpon his flesh apace,

Let crawling Cungers créepe about his bones,

Let Wormes awake and W: Carkasse race

For why it was appointed for the nones:

But when they haue done all the spite they can

His good report shall liue in mouth of man.

Instead of stonie Tombe and Marble Graue

In lieu of a lamentable Verse,

[Page] Let W. on the sandie Cheasell haue

This dolefull rime in stead of better Hierse:

Lo, here among the Wormes doth W. woon

That well deserude a farther race to roon.

But since his fate allotted him to fall

Amid the sowsing Seas and troublous Tide,

Let not his death his faithfull Friends appall

For he is not the first that so hath dide,

Nor shall be séene the last: As nie away

To Heauen by waters as by Land they say.

Praise of his Loue.

APpelles lay the Pensill downe

and shun thy woonted skill,

Let brute no more with flattring Trumpe

the Gréekish eares fulfill:

Clayme not to thee such Painters praise

as thou hast done of yore,

Least thou in fine be foiled flat

and gained glorie lore.

So seeke not to disgrace the Gréekes

thy louing Natiue land,

But rather from depainting formes

withdraw thy skillest hand.

For so thou stiffely stand and vaunt

that thou wilt frame hir like

Whome I extoll aboue the Starres,

thou art a stately Gréeke.

[Page] As soone with might thou mayste remoue

the Rock from whence it growes,

As frame hir featurde forme in whome

such flouds of graces flowes.

If I might speake vnhurt of hate,

I would auaunt that kinde

In spite of Rose and Lillie both

had hir in earth assignde

To dwell among the daintie Dames

that shée hath placed héere:

Cause, by hir passing feature might

Dame Natures skill appéere.

Hir Haire surmounts Apollos pride

in it such beautie raines

Hir glistring eies the Cristall farre

and finest Saphire staines

A little Mouth with decent Chin,

a Corall Lip of hue,

With Téeth as white as Whale his bone

eche one in order due.

A body blamelesse to be found,

Armes rated to the same:

Such Hands with Azure deckt, as all

that warre with hir doe shame.

As for the partes in couert kept

and what is not in sight,

I doe estéeme them by the reast

not forcing on dispight.

[Page] If I were foreman of the Quest

my verdit to expresse,

Forgiue mée (Phoebus,) of thy place

shée should thée dispossesse.

P: should be raised to the cloudes

and Phoebus brought alow,

For that there should liue none in earth

but might hir vertue know.

Thus to conclude and make an ende,

to vouch I dare beholde:

As soone as Nature hir had made

all Natures ware was solde.

The complaint of a Friend of his hauing lost his Doue.

WHat shold I shed my teares to show mine inward pain

Since yt the Iewell I haue lost may not be had again.

Yet bootelesse though it bee to vtter couert smart

It is a meane to cure the griefe, and make a ioyfull hart.

Wherefore I say to you that haue enioyde your Loue,

Lament with me in wofull wise for loosing of my Doue.

You Turtle Cocks that are your louing Honnes bereft,

And do bewaile your cruell chaunce that you aliue are left:

Come hither, come I say, come hie in haste to mee,

Let eyther make his dolefull plaint amid this drearie tree.

A fitter place than this may no where else be found

For friendly Eccho here wil cause ech cry to yeeld a sound.

In youth it was my luck on such a Doue to light,

As by good nature wan my loue, she was my whole delite

A fresher fowle than mine for shape and beauties hue,

Was neuer any man on earth that had the hap to vewe.

[Page] Dame Nature hir had framde so perfite in hir kinde

As not the spiteful man himself one fault in hir could finde.

Hir eie so passing pure, hir beake so braue and fit,

The stature of hir lims so small, hir head so full of wit,

Hir neck of so good fyse, hir plume of colour white,

Hir legs & feete so finely made, though seldom sene in sight:

Eche part so fitly pight as none mought chaūge his place.

Nor any Bird could lightly haue so good & braue a grace.

But most of all that I did fansie, was hir voyce,

For swete it was vnto mine care, & made the hart reioyce.

No sooner could I come in place where she was set,

But vp she rose, and ioyfull would hir Make & louer met.

About my tender neck she would haue clasped tho,

And laid hir beake betwixt my lips, sweete kisses to besto.

And ought besides that mought haue pleasurde me at all,

was neuer man that had a birde so fit to play withall.

when I for ioy did sing, she would haue song with mee,

whē I was wo, my grief was hirs, she wold not plesāt be

But (oh) amid my ioyes came cruell canckred Death.

And spiting at my pleasures rest my louing bird hir breath

who finding me alack, and absent on a day,

Caught bow in hand, & strak hir down, a breding as she lay

Since I haue cause to waile the death of such a Doue.

(Good Turtles) help me to lament ye losse of my true loue.

The Tree whereon she sat shall be the place where I

will sing my last, & end my life: for (Turtles) I must die.

you know it is our kinde, we can not liue alone,

More pleasant is ye death to vs then life when loue is gone

To tell a farther tale my famting breath denies,

And selfe same death ye slue my Doue, begins to close mine eies.

That Louers ought to shunne no paines to attaine their Loue.

[Page]

IF Marchaunts in their warped Keales

commit themselues to Waue,

And dreadfull daunger of the Goulfe

in tempest that doth raue,

To set from farre and Forraine lands

such ware as is to sell,

And is not in their Natiue soile

where they themselues doe dwell:

If Souldiars serue in perills place

and dread of Cannon shot,

Ech day in daunger of their liues

and Countrie losse God wot,

Whose Musick is the dreadfull Drum

and dolefull Trumpets sounde,

Who haue in stead of better bed

the colde and stonie grounde,

And all tattaine the spoile with spéede

of such as doe withstande,

Which slender is sometime we see

when so it comes to hande:

If they for Lucre light sustaine

such perill as ensues,

Then those that serue the Lorde of Loue

no trauaile ought refuse:

[Page] But lauish of their liuely breath

all tempest to abide,

To maintaine Loue and all his lawes

what Fortune so betide.

And not to shrink at erie shoure

or stormie flaw that lights,

Ne yet to yéelde themselues as thrall

to such as with them fights.

Such are not fit for Cupids Campe,

they ought no wages win

Which faint before the clang of Trump

or Battels broile begin.

They must not make account of hurt,

for Cupid hath in store

Continually within his Campe

a salue for erie sore.

Their Ensigne bearer is so stoute

ecleaped Hope by name,

As if they follow his aduise

ech thing shall be in frame.

But if for want of courage stoute

the Banner be bereft,

If Hope by hap be stricken downe,

and no good hope yleft:

Tis time with Trump to blow retreate,

the Field must needes be woon:

So Cupid once be Captiue tane

his Souldiars are vndoon.

[Page] Wherefore, what so they are that Loue

as waged men doe serue:

Must shun no daunger drift at all

ne from no perill swerue.

Kéepe watch and warde the wakefull night

and neuer yéelde to rest.

For feare least thou a waiting nought

on sodaine be opprest.

Though hunger gripe thy emptie Maw

endure it for a while,

Till time doe serue with good repast

such famine to beguile.

Be not with chilly colde dismaide,

let Snow nor Ise procure

Thy lustfull lims from painefull plight

thy Ladie to allure.

That is the spoile that Cupid giues

that is the onely wight

Where at his Thralls are woont to roue

with Arrowes from their sight.

My selfe as one among the moe,

shall neuer spare to spend

My life, my lims, yea hart and all

Loues quarrell to defend.

And so in recompence of paines

and toile of perills past,

He yéelde mée but my Ladies loue:

I will not be agast,

[Page] Of Fortune, nor hir frowning face,

I nought shall force hir chéere,

But tend on erie turne on hir

that is my louing Féere.

A request of Friendship to Vulcans Wyfe made my Mars.

THough froward Fortune would yt you who are

So braue a Dame, wc Vulcan shoulden linck:

Yet may you loue the lustie God of warre,

And bleare his eies that no such fraud will thinck.

Tis Cupids charge, and all the Gods agree,

That you be Féere to him, and Friend to mée.

The Louer that had loued Long without requitald of good will.

LOng did I loue, and likte hir passing well

Whose beautie bred ye thraldom of my thought,

Long did I sue to hir for to expell

The foule disdain yt beauties beames had wrought:

Long did I serue, and Long I would haue doon,

My minde was bent a thorow race to roon.

Long when I had looude, sude, and serued so.

As mought haue likte as braue a Dame as shée,

Hir Friend she forced not but let him go,

Shee looude at least besides him two or thrée:

[Page] Hir common cheare to erie one that sude,

Bred me to déeme shée did hir Friend delude.

Great was my griefe at first to be refusde

That Long had looude with true vnfained hart,

But when I sawe I had béene long abusde

I forcde the lesse from such a Friend to part:

Yet ere I gaue hir vp I gainde a thing

That griefe to hir, and ease to me did bring.

To a Friend that wild him to beware of Enuie.

THis sound aduise and counsell sent from you

With friendly hart yt you (my friend) doe giue,

With willing minde I purpose to ensue,

And to beware of Enuie whilst I liue.

For spitefull it doth nought but malice brue

Aie séeking Loue from faithfull harts to riue,

And plant in place where perfit Friendship grue

A mortall hate, good Nature to depriue:

And those that nip mée by the back behinde,

I trust you shall vntrue reporters finde.

Of Misreporters.

J Hope (mine Owne) this fixed Loue of thine

Is so well staid and rooted déepe in brest

That not, vnlesse thou see it with thine eine

That I from thée my loue and Friendship wrest,

Thou wilt vntie the knot of thy behest.

[Page] I trust your selfe of Enuie will beware

That wild your friend take héede of Enuies snare.

That no man should write but such as doe excell.

SHould no man write (say you,)

but such as doe excell?

This fonde deuise of yours deserues

a Bable and a Bell.

Then one alone should doe

or verie few in déede:

For that in erie Art there can

but one alone exceede.

Should others ydle bée

and waste their age in vaine,

That mought perhaps in after time

the prick and price attaine?

By practise skill is got

by practise Wit is woon.

At games you sée how many doe

to win the wager roon,

Yet one among the moe

doth beare away the Bell:

Is that a cause to say the rest

in running did not well?

If none in Phisick should

but onely Galene deale,

[Page] No doubt a thousand perishe would

whome Phisick now doth heale.

Eche one his Talent hath,

to vse at his deuise:

Which makes that many men as well

as one are counted wise.

For if that Wit alone

in one should rest and raine

Then God the skulles of other men

did make but all in vaine.

Let eche one trie his force,

and doe the best he can

For therevnto appointed were

the hand and hed of man.

The Poet Horace speakes

against thy Reason plaine,

Who sayes tis, somewhat to attempt

although thou not attaine

The scope in erie thyng:

to touch the highst degrée

Is passing hard, too doe the best

sufficing is for thée.

To his Friend, declaring what vertue it is to stick to former plighted friendship.

THe sage and Siluer haired Wights doe thinke

A vertue rare not to be proude of mind

[Page] When Fortune smiles: nor cowardly to shrink

Though chaūged Chaūce do shew hir self vnkind.

But chiefest praise is to imbrace the man

In welth and wo with whome your loue began.

Of two desperate Men.

A Man in déepe dispaire with Hemp in hand

Went out in haste to ende his wretched daies:

And where he thought the Gallo trée should stand

He found a Pot of Gold: he goes his waies

Therewith eftsoone, and in exchaunge he left

The Rope wherewith he would his breath bereft.

¶The gréedie Carle came within a space

That owde the good, and saw the Pot behind

Where Ruddocks lay, and in the Ruddocks place

A knottie Cord, but Ruddocks could not find:

He caught the Hemp and hoong himselfe on trée,

For griefe that he is Treasure could not see.

Of the torments of Hell and the paines of Loue.

THough they that wanted graee

and whilome liued héere,

Sustaine such pangues and paines in Hell

as doth by Bookes appéere,

Though restlesse be the rage

of that infernall route,

That voide of feare and Pitties plaint

doe fling the fire aboute,

[Page] And tosse the blasing Brands

that neuer shall consume,

And breath on sielie Soules that fit

and suffer furious fume:

Though Tantall, Pelops Sonne,

abide the Dropsie dry,

And sterue with hunger where he hath

both Foode and Water by:

Though Tytius doe indure

his Liuer to be rent

Of Vultures tyring on the same

vnto his spoile ybent:

And Sysiphe though with paine

and neuer stinting drift

Doe role the stone from Mountaines top

and it to Mountaine lift:

Though Belydes doe broile

and suffer endlesse paine,

In drawing water from the déepe

that falleth downe againe:

Though Agamemnons Sonne

such retchlesse rage indure,

By meane of furies that with flame

his griefull smart procure:

Though Mynos hath assignde

Prometheus to the rack,

With hand and foote ystretch awide

till all his lims doe crack;

[Page] To leade a lothsome life

and die a liuing death,

Amid his paines to waste his winde

and yet to want no breath:

Though other stand in Stix

with Sulpher that doth flame,

And other plunge in Phlegiton

so gastly for the name:

Though Cerberus, the Kaie

of Plutos Denne that beares,

With hungrie throte and gréedie gripe

the newcome Straunger teares:

Though these condemned Ghostes

such dreadfull paine indures,

Yet may they not compare at all

with pangues that Loue procures.

His tiring farre excéedes

the gnawing of the Gripes,

And with his Whip such lashes giues

that passe Megeras stripes.

He lets the Liuer lie,

tormenting aie the Hart:

He strikes and wounds his bounden thrall

with dubble hedded Dart.

His fire excéedes the flame

of déepe Auernus Lakes:

And where he once pretendes a plague

a spitefull spoile he makes.

[Page] His foes doe wake by day

they dread to sléepe the night:

They ban the Sunne, they curse the Moone,

and all that else giues light.

They passe their lothsome liues

with not contented minde:

Their dolefull daies drawe slow to date

as Cupid hath assignde.

To Tantall like, but yet

their case is worse than his:

They haue that they imbrace, but straight

are quite bereft of blis.

They waste their winde in sighes

they bleare their eies with brine:

They breake their bulcks with bowncing griefe,

their harts with lingring pine.

Though Orpheus were aliue

with Musick that appeasde

The vglie God of Lymbo Lake,

and soules so sore diseasde,

By Arte he mought not ease

the Louers feruent fits,

Ne purchace him his harts desire

so troubled are his wits.

No place of quiet rest,

no roome deuoide of ruth:

No swaging of his endlesse paine

whose death doth trie his truth.

[Page] His Chamber serues for nought

but witnesse of his plaint,

His Bed and Bolster to bewaile

their Lorde with Loue attaint.

The man for murther caught

and clodgde with yron colde

To sweare that he more happie is

than Louers may be bolde.

For he in little space

his dreadfull day shall sée,

But Cupids thralls in daylie griefes

tormented daylie bée.

A thousand deaths they bide

whilst they in life remaine,

And onely plaints and stormie thoughts

they are the Louers gaine.

¶An Epitaph of the death of Maister Tufton of Kent.

HEre may wée see the force of spitefull death

And what a swaye it beares in worldly things,

It neyther spares the one nor others breath,

He slayes the Keasers and the crowned Kings.

Nothing preuailes against his hatefull hande

He heares no suters when they pleade for lyfe,

The richmans purse cānot Deaths powre wtstand,

Nor Souldiars sworde compare with fatall Knyfe.

[Page] He recketh not of well renowmed fame

He forceth not awhit of golden Fée,

His greatest ioy is to obscure the name

Of such as séeke immortall aie to bee.

For if that wealth, bloud, lynage, or desart

Loue, pittie, zeale, or friendship mought preuaild,

If life well led, if true vnfayned hart

Mought purchase lyfe: then Death had not assaild.

This Tuftons lyfe with curst and cruell blade

Breaking the course of him that ran so right

A race as he no stop at all had made

Had Death not tript this Tufton for despight.

The poore haue lost the ritch haue nothing gaind,

The good haue cause to mourne, the yll to plaine:

For Tufton was to all a Friend vnfaind.

Let Kent cry out that Death hath Tufton slaine,

Yet this there is whereof they may reioyce

That his good lyfe hath woon the peoples voyce.

Againe.

LEt neuer man presume on worldly wealth,

Let riches neuer bréede a loftie minde,

Let no man boast to much of perfite health

Let Natures gifts make no man ouer blinde

For these are all but Bladders full of winde.

Let friendship not enforce a retchlesse thought,

Let no desart or life well led before,

Let no renowne or glorie greatly sought

[Page] Make man forget his present state the more:

For death is he that kéepes and rids the store.

If eyther health, or goods had béene of powre,

If Natures giftes, or friendship and good will,

If lyfe forepast, if glories Golden Bowre

Mought haue preuaild, or stopt the dolefull Knill

Of Tufton, then had Tufton liued still.

But now you sée that Death hath quight vndoon

His last of lyfe, and put him to the foile,

Yet liues the vertue that aliue he woon,

The times alone are shrowded in the soile:

Thus Death is ende of all this worldlesse toile.

In praise of Ladie P.

P. Séemes of Venus stock to bée

for beauties comely grace,

A Grysell for hir grauitie,

a Helen for hir face:

A second Pallas for hir Wit,

a Goddesse rare in sight:

A Dian for hir daintinesse,

shée is so chaste a Wight.

Doe vew hir Corse with curious eie,

eche lim from top to toe,

And you shall say I tell but truth

that doe extoll hir so.

The Head as chiefe that stands aloft

and ouer looketh all,

[Page] With wisedome is so fully fraught

as Pallas there did [...]all.

Two Eares th [...] [...]ust no trifling tales

nor credit b [...]rute:

Yet such againe as readie are

to heare the humbles sute.

Hir Eies are such as will not gaze

on things not worthy sight,

And where she ought to cast a looke

she will not winke in spight.

The golden graines that gréedie guestes

from forraine Countries bring,

Ne shining Phoebus glittring beames

that on his Godhead spring:

No auncient Amber had in price

of Roman Matrons olde,

May be comparde with splendant hatres

that passe the Venys Golde.

Hir Nose adorns hir countnance so

in middle iustly plaste,

As it at no time will permit

hir beautie be defaste.

Hir Mouth so small hir Téeth so white

as any Whale his bone,

Hir lips without so liuely red

that passe the Corall stone.

What neede I to describe hir Chéekes?

hir Chin? or else hir Pap?

[Page] For they are all as though the [...]ose

lodge in the Lillies lap

What should I stand vpon the rest

or other parts depaint:

As little Hand with Fingers long?

my wits are all to faint.

Yet this I say in hir behalfe

if Helen were hir léeke,

Sir Paris néede not to disdaine

hir through the Seas to séeke:

Nor Menelaus was vnwise

or Troupe of Troians mad,

When he with them, and they with him,

for hir such combat had.

Leanders labour was not lost

that swam the surging Seas,

If Hero were of such a hue

whome so he sought to please.

And if Admetus Darling déere

were of so fresh a face,

Though Phoebus kept Admetus flock

it may not him disgrace.

Nor mightie Mauors waye the floutes

and laughing of the rest,

If such a one were shée with whome

he lay in Vulcans Nest.

If Bryseis beautie were so braue,

Achylles néedes no blame

[Page] Who left the Campe and fled the field

for loosing such a Dame.

If shée in Ida had bene séene

with Pallas and the rest,

I doubt where Paris would haue chose

Dame Venus for the best,

Or if Pygmalion had but tane

a glimse of such a face,

He would not then his Idoll dumme

so feruently imbrace.

But what shall néede so many wordes

in things that are so plaine?

I say but that I doubt where Kinde

can make the like againe.

The Louer in vtter dispaire of his Ladies returne, in eche respect compares his estate with Troylus.

MY case with Troylus may compare,

For as he felt both sorrow and care:

Euen so doe I most Miser Wight,

That am a Troylus outright.

As ere he could atchieue his wish,

He fed of many a dolefull dish,

And day and night vnto the Skies

The sielie Troian kest his eies,

Requesting ruth at Cresids hande

In whome his life and death did stande:

[Page] So night and day I spent in wo,

Ere she hir pittie would bestow

To quight me from the painefull plight

That made me be a Martir right.

As when at last he fauour sounde,

And was recured of his wounde,

His grutching griefes to comfort grue,

And torments from the Troian flue:

So when my Ladie did remooue

Hir rigour, and began to looue

Hir Vassell in such friendly sort,

As might appeere by outward port:

Then who began to ioy but I

That stoode my Mistresse hart so nie?

Then (as the Troian did) I soong,

And out my Ladies vertues roong

So lowde, as all the world could tell

What was the meaning of the Bell.

And as that pleasaunt taste of ioy

That he endured had in Troy,

From swéete to sower did conuart,

When Cresida did thence depart:

So my forepassed pleasures arre

By spitefull Fortune put a farre

By hir departure from this place,

Where I was woont to view hir face.

So Angelike that shone in sight

Surpassing Phoebes golden light.

[Page] As when that Diomed the Gréeke

Had giuen the Troian Foe the gléeke.

And rest him Cresids comely hue

Which often made his hart to rue,

The wofull Troylus did lament,

And dolefull dayes in mourning spent:

So I bereft my loouing Make,

To sighes and sobbings mée betake,

Repining that my fortune is

Of my desired Friend to misse,

And that a guilefull Greeke should bée

Estéemde of hir in such degrée.

But though my fortune frame awrie,

And I dispoylde hir companie

Must waste the day and night in wo,

For that the Gods appointed so:

I naythelesse will wish hir well

And better than to Cresid fell.

I pray she may haue better hap

Than beg hir bread with Dish and Clap,

As shée the sielie Miser did

When Troylus by the Spittle rid.

God shield hir from the Lazars lore

And lothsome Leapers stincking sore,

And for the loue I earst hir bare

I wish hir as my selfe to fare:

My selfe that am a Troian true

As shée full well by triall knue.

[Page] And as King Priams worthie Sonne

All other Ladies séemde to shonne

For loue of Cresid: so doe I

All Venus Dearlings quight defie,

In minde to loue them all alee [...]e,

That leaue a Troian for a Greeke.

The Louer declareth what he would haue if he might obtaine his wish.

IF Gods would daine to lende

a listning eare to mee

And yéelde me my demaunde at full,

what think you it to bee?

Not to excell in seate

or wield the Regall Mace,

Or Scepter in such stately sort

as might commende the place.

For as their Hawle is hie,

so is their ruine rough,

As those that earst hath felt the fall

declare it well ynough.

Ne would I wish by warre

and bloudie blade in fist,

To gore the grounde with giltlesse bloud

of such as would resist.

For Tirants though a while

doe leade their liues in ioy,

Yet Tirants trie in trackt of time

how bloudshed doth annoy.

[Page] I would none office craue,

ne Consulship request:

For that such rule is full of rage,

and fraught with all vnrest.

Ne would I wish for welth

in great excesse to flow,

Which keepes the Keyes of discords Denne

as all the world doth know.

But my desire should farre

such base requests excell,

That I might hir enioy at will

whome I doe loue so well.

O mightie God of Gods

I were assured than

In happie hap him to surpasse

that were the happiest man.

Then might I martch in mirth

with well contented minde,

And ioy to thinke that I in loue

such blissefull hap did finde.

What friendly wordes would we

togither then recite?

More than my tongue is able tell

or this poore Pen to write.

Then should my hart reioyce

and thereby comfort take,

As they haue felt that earst haue had

the vse of such a Make.

[Page] If Fortune then would frowne,

or sought me to disgrace:

The touching of hir cherrie lip

such sorrowes would displace.

Or if such griefe did growe

as might procure my smart,

Hir long and limber armes to mée

might soone reduce my hart.

For as by foming flouds

the fleating Fishes liues:

To Salamanders as the [...]me

their onely comfort giues:

So doth thy beautie (P)

my sorrowes quite expell:

And makes me fare where I should faint

vnlesse thou loo [...]ste mée well.

And as by Waters want,

Fish falleth to decay,

And Salamander can not liue

when flame is tane away:

So absence from hir sight

whole Seas of sorrowes makes,

Which presence of that Paragon

by secret vertue slakes.

Would Death would spare to spoyle

and crooked age to rase

(As they are woont by course of kinde)

Pees beautie in this case.

[Page] Yet though their rigor rage,

and powre by proofe be plaine:

If P. should die to morrow next,

yet P. should liue againe.

For Phaenix by his kinde

to Phaenix will returne,

When he by force of Phaebus flame

in scalding Skies doe burne.

Then P. must néedes reuiue

that is a Phaenix plaine:

And P. by lack of liuely breath

shall be a P. againe.

Of a Gentlewoman that wilde hir Louer to weare greene Bayes in token of hir stedfast loue towards him.

B: Tolde me that the Bay would aye be gréene,

And neuer chaunge his hue for winters thret:

Wherefore (quoth shee) that plainely may be séene

What loue thy Ladie beares, the Lawrell get.

A braunch aloft vpon the Helmet weare,

Presuming that vntill the Lawrell die

And loze his natiue colour, I will beare

A faithfull hart, and neuer swerue awrie.

I (siely soule) did smile with ioyfull brow

Hoping that Daphnis would retainde hir hue

And not haue chaungde: & lykewise that the vow

My Ladie made would make my Ladie true.

[Page] O Gods, beholde the chaunce, I wore the Trée,

And honord it as stay of stedfast Loue:

But sodainely the Lawrell might I sée

To looke as browne as doth the brownest Doue.

I marueld much at this vnwoonted sight:

Within a day or two came newes to mée

That shée had chaungde, & swarude hir friendship quight

Wherefore affie in neither trull nor tree.

For I perceiue that colours lightly chaunge,

And Ladies loue on sodaine waxeth straunge.

¶An Epitaph of Maister Edwards sometime Maister of the Children of the Chappell, and Gentleman of Lyncolns Inne of Court.

YE Learned Muses nine

and sacred Sisters all,

Now lay your chéerefull Cithrons downe

and to lamenting fall.

Rent off those Garlands gréene,

doe Lawrell Leaues away,

Remooue the Myrtell from your browes

and stint on strings to play.

For he that led the daunce

the chiefest of your traine,

(I meane the man that Edwards height)

by cruell death is slaine.

[Page] Yée Courtyers chaunge your chéere,

lament in wailefull wise,

For now your Orpheus hath resignde,

in clay his Carcas lyes.

O ruth, he is bereft

that whilst he liued héere

For Poets Pen and passing Wit

could haue no English Péere.

His vaine in Verse was such,

so stately eke his stile

His feate in forging sugred Songs

with cleane and curious file,

As all the learned Greekes

and Romaines would repine

If they did liue againe, to vewe

his Verse with scornefull eine.

From Plautus he the Palme

and learned Terence wan,

His writings well declarde the Wit

that lurcked in the man.

O Death thou stoodste in dread

that Edwards by his Art

And Wisedome would haue scapte thy shaft

and fled thy furious Dart.

This feare enforste thy fist

thy cursed Bow to bende,

And let the fatall Arrow flie

that Edwards life did ende.

[Page] But spite of all thy spite

when all thy hate is tride,

(Thou cursed Death) his earned praise

in Mouth of Man shall bide.

Wherefore (O Fame) I say

to trumpe thy lips applie,

And blow a blast that Edwards brute

may pierce the golden Skie.

For here bylow in earth

his name is so well knowne:

As eche that knew his life, laments

that hée so soone is gone.

¶An Epitaph on the death of Maister Arthur Brooke drownde in passing to New Hauen.

AT point to ende and finishe this my Booke,

Came good report to mée, and wild me write

A dolefull Verse, in praise of Authur Brooke

That age to come lament his fortune might.

Agréede (quoth I) for sure his Vertues were

As many as his yeares in number few:

The Muses him in learned laps did beare,

And Pallas Dug this daintie Bab did chew.

Apollo lent him Lute for solace sake

To sound his Verse by touch of stately string,

And of the neuer fading Baye did make

A Lawrell Crowne, about his browes to cling,

[Page] In proufe that he for Myter did excell

As may be iudge by Iulyet and hir Mate:

For there he shewde his cunning passing well

When he the Tale to English did translate.

But what? as he to forraine Realme was bownd

With others moe his soueraigne Quéene to serue,

Amid the Seas vnluckie youth was drownd,

More spéedie death than such one did deserue.

Aye mée, that time (thou crooked Delphin) where

Wast thou, Aryons help and onely stay,

That safely him from Sea to shore didst beare?

when Brooke was drownd why wast yu thē away?

If sound of Harp thine eare delighted so

And causer was that he best [...]id thy back,

Then doubtlesse yu moughst wel on Brooke bestow

As good a turne to saue him from the wrack.

For sure his hande Aryons Harp exceld,

His pleasant Pen did passe the others skill,

Who so his Booke with iudging eie beheld

Gaue thanks to him, and praisde his learned quill.

Thou cruel Goulf what meanst thou to deuowre

With supping Seas a Iewell of such fame?

Why didst thou so with water marre the Flowre

That Pallas thought so curiously to frame?

Vnhappie was the Hauen which he sought,

Cruell the Seas whereon his Ship did glide,

The winds to rough that Brooke to ruin brought,

Vnskilfull he that vndertooke to glide.

[Page] But sithens teares can not reuoke the ded,

Nor cries recall a drowned man to lande:

Let this suffice textall the life he led

And print his prayse in house of Fame to stande

That they that after vs shall bée and liue

Deserued praise to Arthur Brooke may giue.

(ꝙ) G. T.

Of the renowmed Lady, Lady Anne Countesse Warwick.

AN Earle was your Sire a worthie Wight,

A Cowntesse gaue you Tet, a Noble Dame,

An Earle is your Féere, a Mars outright,

A Cowntesse eke your selfe of bruted fame▪

A Brother Lorde, your Father Earles Sonne,

Thus doth your line in Lordes and Earles ronne.

You were well knowne of Russels race a childe,

Of Bedfords blood that now doth liue an Earle,

Now Warwicks wife, a warlike man in fielde,

A Venus Péere, a ritch and Orient Pearle,

Wherefore to you that Sister, Childe, and Wife

To Lorde and Earles are, I wish long life.

You Alpha were when I this Booke begoonne

And formost, as became your state, did stande,

To be Omega now you will not shoonne,

(O Noble Dame) I trust: but take with hande

This ragged rime, and with a courteous looke

And Cowntesse eie pervse this tryfling Booke.

The Authours Epiloge to his Booke

[Page]

THe countnance of this Noble Cowntesse marck

When she thy Verse with eie that Saphire like

Doth shine suruayes, let be thy onely carck

To note hir Lookes: and if she ought mislike

Say that thou shouldst haue hid it from hir sight,

Thy Authour made the best for hir delight,

The woorst he willde in couert scrole to lurke

Vntill the Beare were ouerlickt afresh,

For why in déepe this hastie hatched wurke

Resembleth much the shapelesse lumpe of flesh

That Beares bring forth: So when I lick thée ouer

Thou shalt (I trust) thy perfite shape recouer.

FINIS.

§

§

[Page]

Imprinted at London by Henry Denham, dwelling in Pater noster Rovve, at the signe of the Starre.

OS HOMINI SVBLIME DEDIT.

Anno Domini 1567.

Cum Priuilegio.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

Epitaphes, epigrams, songs and sonets with a discourse of the friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman.

Turberville, George, 1540?-1610?

Edition statement

1567

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2009-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A14019

ID [STC]

STC 24326

ID [STC]

ESTC S111456

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99846797

ID [PROQUEST]

99846797

ID [VID]

11787

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. A14019)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 11787)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 362:7)

Source

— Epitaphes, epigrams, songs and sonets with a discourse of the friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman., Turberville, George, 1540?-1610?.

Extent

[15], 144, [1] leaves

Anno Domini. 1567. Imprinted at London, by Henry Denham,. [London] :: [1567]. (In verse.) (Reproduction of a photostat of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.