A poore Knight his Pallace
of priuate pleaſures. Gallantly garniſhed, with
goodly Galleries of ſtrang inuentiōs
and prudently poliſhed, with ſundry
pleaſant Poſies, & other fine fancies
of dainty deuices, and rare delightes.
Written by a student in Cābridge.
And publiſhed by I. C. Gent.
Imprinted at London, by
Richarde Jones, and are
to bee ſolde at his ſhoppe ouer
agaynſt Sainct Sepulchers
Churche. 1579.
I. C. To the Reader of the poore
Knight his Poſies.
GEntle Reader, the feare of Ignomynie & ſhamefull reproch,
hath cauſed the Author of theſe Poſies to withholde
his name from the ſame, whom for this time I
haue thought not much amiſſe, to collour & ſet forth
in the name of the poore Knight, & I do duly proteſt vnto thee,
that without my great intreaty, theſe fewe Poſies had not as yet
come vnto thy hand▪ VVherfore, if that any thing in the ſame be
acceptable, and worthy of commendacion, attribute the ſame vnto
the poore Knight, which ſhalbe both ioyfull vnto mee, and no
ſmall incouragement to him. But if on the contrary, any thinge
demerit blame, I ſubmit my ſelfe to beare the reproch, (which
was the publiſher of the ſame,) deſiring to quite him, and ſet him
free, which is the Author: leaſt by his diſcouragement we ſhould
loſe that, which hereafter wee looke for. But by the way (gentle
Reader) I doo admoniſh thee, that in the firſt three Poſies, thou
take Iudgement to thy reading, leaſt with the Spyder thou finde
poyſon, where the painfull Bee may gather Honny: For although
the name ſeeme ſomewhat vayne, (yet the outwarde apperance
doth not iudge the matter, according to the Prouerbe: Cuculus
non facit monachum: The matter is delectable, and requireth
to bee red with Iudgement. Thus I ende, deſiring thee to accept
(my freend) the poore Knight his Poſies in good worth.
From my Chamber in Grayes Inne.
I. C.
The letter of the Author to J. C.
concerning theſe Poſies.
IN Sommer tide, and gallant prime, when troes doo bud and blow,
And when as Ver with ha we
•
e hue, in euery feelde doth show.
When as eche groue bedect with clothes,
••
ſt meete for his degree,
Did make a shade to all the Nimphes, in ſile
••
t woods that bee.
When as Don Phoebus ſchorchinge beames, with ſcalding heate did burne,
And when as hoary VVinters head, his hue did change and turne.
When Neptune graunted fauour free, to A
••
ion his loue,
As well roughe Boreas boyſterous blaſtes▪ as Tritons hart to moue,
Beeing voide of all ſolace and mirth, I layd mee downe to sleepe,
In weary woods betaking mee, vnto the Fawnes to ke
•
pe.
Where neither Philomelas noa
•
e, nor fragrant ſmell did want,
To ſet mee in that pleaſant pathe, or finish my intente:
And as I walkte that pleaſant way, the tedious time t'expell,
Beholde I ſaw I know not where, a thing tha
•
liked mee well.
And they to whom I did commit, my body to defend,
Did shew mee this at whoſe requeſt, this viſion I haue pende.
And vnto you gentle I. C. beeing pend, I ſend the ſame,
To reade, to race, to blot, to burne, the faul
•
s that merit blame,
For why? ſith firſt you did commaund him, whoſe deny was gone,
Yea him I ſay whom to this taske▪ you should command alone.
Accept this Poſie which I ſend, vnperfite though it bee,
And call to minde thoſe gentle word
•
s, which once you ſpake to mee.
And spurd mee forth which erſt was bent, no ſuch attempt to gin,
But anſwered thus: tis good to sleepe beeing wrapt in a whole skin.
But then hard by the Temple Bar, you ſayd you did expect,
The ſomme of that which now in ſomme, is brought into effect.
And for your owne sweet ſelfe I writ, the ſequell that I ſend,
And wish you well to shew the ſame, to foe
〈◊〉
yet to freend.
And leaſt perchance ere you beware, ſome chance to ſpie the ſame,
I thought it good by good aduiſe, for to detai
•
e my name.
Thus fare you well my freend I. C. commend mee to your brother,
For whom before three Monthes be ronne I will prepare an other.
From his Study,
yours as his owne.
The vale of Venus, with all the wayes
and footpathes vnto her Forte, beeing
ſcituate in the ſame.
The Argument.
The Autor penneth, wherof he hath no proofe,
But as in dreame, ſo doth his knowledge come:
Hee warnes all thoſe whoſe caſe it doth behooue,
To flie theſe panges, or els to taſte of ſome,
VVhich hee diſplayeth, as proper vnto Loue:
The wofull ſtate, of thoſe which run that race,
By others fate, which hertofore did prooue,
VVhom hee by heapes, hath brought into this place:
But if that loue do bring no pinching payne,
The Autor ſayth, hee will recant agayne.
WHen as my dazled eyes, by Sopor were oppreſt,
God Morpheus with his fethered limmes would let mée take no reſt,
But with his wonted guiſe, did féede my minde with dreames,
And ſhewed to mée, faire Helicon, with all the ſiluer ſtreames.
The manſion of the dames: with euery Laurell trée,
With Herbers, Brookes, and pleaſant flowres, that on Parnaſſus bée,
From firy Phoebus throne, to Pluto his pudled Denne,
Yea all that lay in Neptunes gulfes, and in Leerna Fenne.
Nothing was then concealed, each God in his degree,
From Iupiter and Iuno
•
right, vnto the Furies thrée:
My Angell then was bent, to viſite euery place,
For why, hée ſayd that it was long, ſince hée did run that race:
And though that weary way, were tedious ſteppes to mée,
Yet thought I not my labour loſt, ſuch ſtrange delights to ſée.
Within a valley low, there ſtoode a Caſtle hye,
Which by the might of Phoebus beames, did gliſter in mine eye.
No man could paſſe therto, to foe nor yet to fréend,
But that hee ſhould aſſure himſelfe, ſome hill for to aſſend:
For why? before the walles, (which were exceeding good)
By Natures free munition, foure hugy hilles there ſtood,
Which ſeemed a great defence to feare the foming foe,
Menacinge feare to faynting hartes, and to the daſtard woe.
And yet about the hilles great beaten pathes there were,
Which did the ſtore of paſſengers vnto that place declare.
Wherwith I was amazde, this ſtrange deuiſe to ſée,
Yet durſt I not demaund my God, what building it ſhould bee.
But when hee did perceiue, how trembling I did ſtand,
Feare not (quoth hée) (and therwithall hee tooke mee by the hande)
For lo that ſhining place beeing ſituate in the vale
The Caſtle and the fortreſſe ſtrong, of Venus men doo call.
The Valley where it ſtands, hath Smyrdo vnto name,
By whole conſent of heauenly Gods, allotted to this dame.
The Father of the Gods, with Iuory ſtaffe in hand,
Hath giuen vnto his Daughter déere, this ſwéete and fertill lande.
And euery forrain coaſt, doo yéeld her homage due,
Some ſacrifice vnto her ſhrine, her wrath fo
•
to eſchue,
Beholde the hilles (quoth hée) which compaſſe in theſame,
And beare in minde if that thou canſt in order euery name.
The firſt vnto the North, is called Change of Ioy,
For hee that entreth on the ſame, is entred to annoy.
The ſecond Fickleneſſe, the ſecond chance in loue,
Now hot, now cold, now quicke, now dead: as many men doo prooue.
The thirde is Apetite, as red as raging fire,
Such is the chance of louers poore, to vanquiſh their deſire.
The fourth is Crabbed Care, imployd with
••
réekes of red,
Vpon this Mount alas I rue, lay many Cap
•
iues ded.
My guyde there ſtayd, but I deſ
•
rous of the ſame,
Did aſke of him why euery Hill, inioyd that proper name.
Within eche Hill (quoth hée) a furious Fée
•
d doth reſt,
And in the hill hath digged a Denne, to bee his nightly neſt.
The Mountes enioy the name, and doth that title win,
As doth that helliſh hound inioy, which hath his Den therin.
None entreth to the Forte, which will diſplayne to fight,
With him which ſtands, with club in hand▪ and challeng it by right.
And none ſhall paſſe the Mount, but hée ſhall him withſtand,
And hee ſhall quite him paſſing well, that ſhall not feele his hand.
Yea Hercules him ſelfe, which erſt had bin at Hell,
And bound the barking Cerberus, which in the Lake did dwell:
Could not reſiſt theſe ſtrokes, nor warde theſe battering blowes,
But yeelded him to Crabbed Care, as well his toombe forſhowes,
And dying on the Mount, with fire it is ſuſpected,
Hee hath his Tombe and Monument within that hill erected.
For none can come to Loue, or to her Caſtle rare,
But that hee muſt aſcend them all in order as they are.
Good ſyr (quoth I agayne) I pray declare to mee,
What is the cauſe that in this place ſo many pathes there bee?
For if the caſe were ſuch, as you haue erſt declared,
The paſſage ſhould bee perilous and much for to be feared.
Morpheus replyde agayne, I finde none other cauſe,
Why ſuch reſort of mortall men, vnto her tent ſhee drawes,
But that ſhee dooth delight the minde of man and beaſt,
And tickleth forth the willing minde, vnto Dame Venus neaſt.
For firſt in Saturns dayes, when men did ſimply liue,
Shee ſhewed forth that was vnknowen, and preceptes ſhée did giue.
In Venus trade and did inſtruct them in ſuch ſorte,
That euer ſince to Venus Vale, they ceaſe not to reſorte:
Yea ſince thoſe flouriſhing dayes, ſhee fed their fanſies ſo,
And opened vnto them the doore, which erſt they did not know.
That now in euery Region, a coſtly ſhryne ſhe hath,
From whence vnto her Manſion, there lyeth a beaten path:
A path I ſay ſhe hath, which comes from euery place,
For to conduct thoſe paſſengers, which ronne in Cupids race.
Lo ſee the path of Troy, where Troylus lyeth dead,
And ſee where good Diophoebus by Greekes is murdered.
Corebus with the loue, vnto Caſſandra borne,
Among the reſt do couched lye, on carking care forlorne.
There Paris hath a Tombe, far diſtant from the reſt,
A gorgious Tombe no doubt it was, excelling all the beſt.
Vpon ech ende therof a furious Feend doth lye,
The one doth ſound a dolefull Trumpe vnto the cloudy ſkye:
Wherwith ech place reſounds, as well the vale as hill,
The other ſhouteth oft and ſhrickes, with trembling voyce and ſhryl.
And with his rauening mouth doth neuer ceaſe to teare,
The
••
nes of Paris which longe ſince, vpon the Mountaine were.
Oh ſyr (quoth I to Morpheus) what meane thoſe dolefull mones,
And what meanes hee, that often ſhrykes and féedes vpon the boues?
The one (quoth hee) who ſounds, his Trumpe vnto the ſky,
It is Defame which will not let, yonge Paris fact to die.
The other Enuie hight: whoſe cankred minde doth fret,
And with Defame agaynſt the Knight, his hand and tooth hath ſet.
But muſe not then (quoth hee) though Paris lyeth here,
For through Defame and Enuies force, his facte is euery where.
The Troyans lye by heapes, next vnto them is Greece,
Where lyeth the Dame which did betray her fathers golden Fléete.
And Laodomia in like care doth reſt her heauy head,
Becauſe her loue and only ioy, Proteſelaus is dead.
Here Cephalus entred is, and wayleth ſtill with care,
For that hee killed his Procris deare, before hee was aware:
Hee wiſht full ofte as Acteon did hartely wiſh theſame,
That hee had neuer knowne his Bowe, nor vſ
•
d the hunters game.
One thing in Grecian Path, did make mee for to muſe,
And for my ignorance of theſame Morpheus di
•
mee excuſe.
Two gorgious Tombes there were, the one agaynſt the other,
(It ſeemed at firſt vnto my eyes, as Caſtor and his brother)
Aboue theſe tombes there ſtood a woman faire and bright,
And not far of with franticke ſworde, there ſt
•
d a raging knight.
And all did ſeeme to wayle, and mourne moſt
•
iteouſly,
Except the armed knight which ſmilde, when as the reſt did cry.
My Morpheus ſaide, the Quéene, faire Chtemneſtra hight,
Which with Aegiſtus kild her ſpouſe, which came from Troian fight.
Oreſtes then in rage, for Agamemnons death,
Did ſhed Aegiſtus vitall blood and ſtopt his mothers bre
•
th.
Oreſtes then returnde vnto his ſence againe,
Did rule in Agamemnons ſteed, and in his rou
•
ne did raine:
So hee began to ſmile, when all the reſt were ſlayne,
And they beeing payd for duty due, in Crabbe
•
Care remaine.
Within this Grecian path, while that wee t
••
ied ſtill,
Beholde foure birdes which orderly, did fly about the hill.
The Nightingale complainde, the Lapwing ſled for feare,
The Swallow ſhée no doubt was ſwifte, the Pheſant lyude in care,
In care all foure they neſt, in care they do remaine,
The Father, Wife, and ſilly childe, with ſiſter there complaine.
Now haue wée paſt from Greece, and vnto Carthage came,
Where Hanniball among the reſt, did win immortall fame.
From Dido vnto Thrace, from Phillis vnto Rome,
Where Porcia with Lucrecia, be linked in one Tombe,
And Camma lyeth behinde, as faythfull as the beſt,
But theſe haue almoſt paſſed Care, and come to perfite reſt.
Oreſtilla lyeth there where Cataline doth couch,
Tarpeia lyeth by Tatius, for gold doth make them touch.
Pompeia lyeth there, whom Clodius ſeekes to couer,
And eke Terentia Tullyes wife, about the hill doth houer.
A thouſand more there were, which on that mount did ſléepe,
Whom Crabbed care with other féends vpon the mount did kéepe.
But as we paſſed thoſe Tombes, of all the Roman rout,
And when bychance wée had eſpide religious perſons out:
One Monument there was, excelling all the reſt,
The forme ſo ſtrange can not depart out of my fearfull breſt.
The Tomb
•
did croſſe the path, when none beſide did ſo,
Whoſe lefte ſide ſéemed a man to bee, the right a woman ſhow:
A monſtrous key of length, her left hand alwayes beares,
And on her head of gliſtering golde, a triple Crowne ſhee weares.
And with a glauncing looke, and with a ſtretched right hand,
Shee doth receiue a liuely youth, which naked there doth ſtand.
Oh ſir (quoth I to him) which was my carefull guide,
In all the Mount the like to this, I haue not ſéene beſide.
Quoth Morpheus this is ſhee which all the Church beguilde,
Whom all men thought to bee a man, till that ſhee had a childe.
Pope Ioane ſhee hath to name, whom once within the Lake,
I ſhewed vnto Robinſon, as our viage wee did make.
Her tombe did croſſe the path, becauſe the paſſers dye,
When as they ſaw her ſhamefull fact, to her reproche ſhould cry.
The young man it is hee, which was her Minion euer,
For whom vpon this Hill for aye, with care they ſhall perſeuer.
The Roman path wee lefte, when wee had vewed at will,
The Roman Knights and Monuments, which were within that Hil.
From thence to Babilon, where Thi
•
be did complaine,
Becauſe that valiant Piramus, through her default was ſlaine.
Then did the Theban path appeare within my ſight,
And Hemon with Antigona, did well inioy their right.
There Cadmus ſhrined was, Hermione iuſ
•
harde by
Whoſe tombes were garniſhed with golde, where crawling ſerpents ly
•
Semeles there was layd, next to her fathers ſide,
For whom her deare twiſe borne Bacchus moſt carefully prouide.
And Ino with her childe, is taken from the ſea,
And in the Mount with Athamas, haue long time béen all thrée.
Creuſa, creons childe, which was yonge laſons deare,
Whom ſcorching fire conſumed from yert
•
, hath her abiding heare.
But yet one tombe there was, among the The
•
an route,
Which till I had perceiued well, did make mee ſtand in doubt:
For why hard by the ſame, did flow a litle flood,
Where many women waſht their hands, imbrued with liuely blood.
It was Agaue the Quéene, which Pentheus had rent,
Becauſe that hee diſoayned the feaſtes, of Baccus to frequent:
And yet her only ſonne, about her tombe remayne,
The partes of him whom ſhee and hers, with cruell hand had ſlayne.
And many more there were, whoſe tombes I would haue ſeene
Which for their long antiquity, with moſ
•
e be couered cleene.
Verona path we leſt, where Romeus doth lye,
Where Iuliet with Iconia, inioy a place the rby.
Gualfrido lyeth in Venis, Barnardo doth the ſame,
And eke Areſtons only childe which Gneſia hath to name.
All Germany I thinke, eche towne that therin was,
Had captiues there, which tediouſneſſe, do cauſe mee to let paſſe:
At laſt my guide did ſmile, and thus to mee hee ſayd,
Loe here what Engliſh priſoners, in Crabbed care are ſtayd.
Great heapes of valiant knights, of noble youthfull peeres,
Which in the feelde moſt Martially haue broken many ſperes:
Among the which I ſpied, thoſe which I will not name,
Leaſt y• my pen through my default, perhaps ſhould purchace blame.
Both Abbots, Friers and Monkes, and all that learned rout,
Hermites and holy Hipocrites, which now bee rooted out.
In care nere Venus vale, they had a place to lye,
Wheras they haue their monuments whereas they chanced to die.
Among the which I romed: deſirous for ſo ſee,
If any of thoſe learned Clarkes, were knowen before of mée.
Wherof perhaps I could, reſcite you many a one,
Which liued in ioy, but now in care, do make a dreadfull mone.
At laſt I ſpied out Bond, that fat and lazy Frier,
Which died wheras faire Aſtoloth would graunt to no deſire.
This Champion liued by loue, as Larkes do liue by leekes,
He wept, hee wailde, he ſighed ſo much, hee could not ſee for chéekes.
Of Ireland and of Wales came many a carefull wight,
And out of Cornwale valiantly came Labeale I ſoundes knight.
From path to path wee went, as Morpheus did giue leaue,
Hée ſhowd mee all that did beſeeme, my knowledge to conceaue.
At laſt wee entered in, the valley by the hill,
And left the lofty mount of Care, which wee had vewde at will.
And loe, into the vale, when as wée were diſcended,
And come vnto the Caſtle wall, as Morpheus had pretended
•
Vpon the Caſtle ſtrong, and in Dame Venus Forte,
Her cumly ſhape and roſiall hew, was drawne in ſéemely ſorte.
And in her hand ſhée helde, an Iuory Combe moſt clere,
And by the ayde of Phoebus beames did kembe her golden heare.
Wherat I was amazde, but Morpheus helpeth mee out,
And with his ſweete and ſugred ſpéeche, aſſoylde me of my doubt.
The Iuory Combe (quoth hee) which Venus hath in hand,
In trymming of her chriſtall haire, will let thee vnderſtand,
That thoſe which doo delight, to run in Venus vale,
Will trim themſelues, as ſome bruſh ware, before it come to ſale.
For as Dame Venus doth, ſo all her darlings do,
This is the cauſe quoth hee againe, why ſhee is pointed ſo:
The Caſtle gate wee did approche and would not ſtay,
The Porters let God Morpheus paſſe, but mee they thruſt away.
Sir boy quoth one to mee (a grim and vgly knaue,)
Come not ſo nye, ſtand backe in time, and ſeke thy ſelfe to ſaue.
To whom God Morpheus ſayd, my freend, content thee ſtill,
That hee ſhould paſſe vnto this place, it is my minde and will.
Commaund not mee quoth hee, and therwith gan to raue,
Quoth Morpheus then from Heauen and Hell, authority I haue.
I am the God of dreames, which paſſe through euery vale,
Reſiſt not then, let him approche into the Caſtle wall:
The knaue when hee perceiued, that it was ſo indéede,
Of with his cap and crowching low, hee let mee in with ſpéede.
Affuction kept the gate, as fearce as Satyre wylde,
And Doubt was his companion, yet hee was ſomwhat milde.
The Porters priſon was bedecked all with greene,
And chaunging coulers now and then, were often to be ſéene.
Out of the narrow grates did Cleopatra prye,
And beckned with her trembling hand to valiant Antony:
Naera with Car
••
n
•
which waited on this Dame,
With Ply
•
s poyſon made an ende, and
•
er
•
do
•
epe their ſhame.
Whom often Cleopatra
〈◊〉
, and often them imbrace,
And ioyning
〈◊〉
, they do lament their
〈◊〉
and heauy caſe.
And as I pryed by chaunce, I ſaw a damſell morne,
With
〈◊〉
weedes and La
••
rs ſpots,
〈…〉
to much forlorne.
Quoth Morpheus
〈◊〉
thou see, wheras that cay
•
i
••
e lyes,
Much like the wretched Crocodill,
〈◊〉
now how ſhee cryes.
That is Pandare his Nice, and Calcas only childe,
By whoſe deceits and pollicies, young Troylus was beguilde.
•
hee is kept in affliction where many other are,
And veweth Troylus lying dead, vpon the Mount of Care.
Shee wepte, ſhee ſighed, ſhee ſobd, for him shee doth lament,
And all too late, yea to to vaine, her facte ſhée doth repent:
How could that ſtedfaſt Knight, (quoth I) loue ſuch a dame?
Morpheus replied in beauty bright, ſhee bare away the fame:
Till that ſhee had betrayd, her Troylus and her dere,
And then the Gods aſſignd a plague, and after ſet her here.
An other wretched wight, within Affliction kept,
Who for her falſe periured faith, lamented ſore and wept.
Eriphile, ſhée it was, and ſpronge of Grecian blood,
(Yet all the Grecian pollicyes, could neuer do her good)
Who for deſire of coyne betrayd her louing make,
And now ſhee muſt content herſelfe, a traytreſſe due to take.
Kinge Pretus wife is here, alas alas what tho?
Affliction helde her in ſo faſt, ſhee is like to die for woe.
Galatea ſhee poore ſoule, muſt holde her ſelfe content,
Which ſayne would wepe if other-could, preuaile which do lamente,
What ſhould I ſay, a thouſand moe, with in this priſon were,
Whom neither time nor memory, will ſuffer to declare.
But all that therin were, haue sayd their ioy apart,
And giue themſelues to vtter plaints, imbrued with ſwelling ſmart.
From thence wee marched forth vnto a litle Lake,
The ſpring was ſwift although but ſmall, the courſe did neuer ſlake,
Leander here did row, here Helena did dwell,
Achilles loueth Polixena, and drinketh at this Well.
Here Aeolus daughter deere, here Silla Niſus daughter,
And here Paſiphae
〈◊〉
drinke, and neuer thirſted after.
One thing was very ſtrange, which at this Well was ſeene,
Within the brooke in
〈◊〉
aray there ſtood a gallant queene.
And on the banke a Bull, with guilted hornes did ſtay,
Which when ſhée would haue iſſued out, did ſtop her in the way.
Wherat I wondred much, and greatly was diſmayde,
And aſking Morpheus of that
〈◊〉
, hee quickly to mee ſayd:
The Quéene ſhee Diece hight, which was King Lycus wife,
A Theban borne in Nicteus daies, the ſates did graunt her life.
Who through a ielious minde: and falſe ſurmiſed loue,
Such diſcorde in the Theban Court, this diueliſh Dame did moue.
That if young Amphion, and Zetus his dere brother,
Had not brought reſkew happely: this Bull had ſlaine their Mother.
Whoſe icloſie the Gods, in ſuch dïſpleaſure tooke,
That they haue placed this roringe Bull, to keepe her in the brooke
An other Dame there was, which at this Well did liue,
Which neuer ceaſt for to aſſay to fill an empty Siue.
And when the cauſe therof, on Morpheus I did aſke,
Hee ſayd the Gods allotted it, to be the Ladies taſlie.
Which all in vayne beſtowed, (vnto her pinchinge payne)
Her loue vpon Narciſſus faire: which in the woods complayne:
Neare to the litle Lake, a Dungeon grounded was,
As blacke as pitche throughout the which, this runninge ſtreame did paſſe
Diſpaire did kepe the ſame, which was both ſtout and ſtrong,
A wafull wretch whoſe greedy gorge, delighted much in wrong.
Poore Captiues in diſtreſſe, hee keepeth many a one,
Whoſe flintie hart doth oft reioyce, when other make their mone.
Hipſiphale which loued, king Peleus Nephew deare,
Erigone which hanged her ſelfe: hath purchaſt houſe roome here.
Here Dianeira lyeth which kilde her ſelfe for wo,
And Hero which on fominge floods, her life ſought to vndo.
Euadne hath a place, Di
••
aire deo loue her well,
With thouſands more within that place, which were to long to tell.
Among the reſt one ſtood, ready to come away,
But that Diſpaire through fayned tales, did cauſe her for to ſtay.
Quoth Morpheus, ſee the Queene, that weare
•
the mourning gowne,
Shee fled from ri
••
h Pigmalion, and built vp Carthage towne.
This ſalse Report (quoth hee) a foe vnto good
•
ame,
Hath pla
•
de his part vpon that wight, which neuer deſcrude the ſame
For in the court of chaſtitie, her deedes be freſh and new,
A crowne of Glory ſhee deſerues, i
•
that ſhee
•
ad her due.
For Poets ſay, ſhee loued, Aeneas Knight of T
•
oy,
And when hee priuily fled from thence, her ſelfe ſhée did diſtroy.
But ta
•
ling Poets lye, Aeneas was vnknowne,
And Troyan ſeede in Carthage to
••
e, by him was neuer ſowne.
Iarbas griyed with loue, and could not her attayne,
(For once ſhee made a faithfull vow, that chaſt ſhee would remayne)
Laide ſéege vnto the towne, Dame Dido to molleſt,
But ſhee to ſaue her plighted othe, to die did thinke it beſt.
And with a glittering blade, ſhee baniſht breathing life,
This was the conſtant ende of her, which was Sicheus wife.
This ſayd, wée left Diſpaire, and all his raging traine,
(With watery teares for Didos ſake, my Morpheus did complaine.)
Wée paſt the gallant court, and entered very far,
Vnto the place where Venus ſate, while Cupid went to war.
There Ceres kept with her, and Bacchus did the ſame,
And Mars ſtoode waiting at the doore, deſirous of the game.
The houſe was full of Clyents, eche corner had great ſtore,
God Morpheus as his cuſtome was, hee entred in before.
Whom when Dame Venus ſaw, ſhee quickly gan to riſe,
Saluting him with cumly cheare, and in moſt curteous wiſe.
My Lord (quoth ſhee to him) how doth my auncient ſire,
And how doth Neptune in the ſeas, and Pluto in the fire.
While Morpheus tolde his tale, I vewed among the rout,
To ſee if ſome acquainted freend, by chance I could finde out.
No Engliſhmen were there, of Wales a worthy bande,
Whom, when they came to greet mee well, I could not vnderſtande.
Wherby no doubt I loſt, the truth of euery caſe,
And many a harty welcominge vnto that princely place.
But if my Cuntry men, had layne in Venus Uale,
Then might I haue diſcribed at large, the trueth of euery tale.
Thus while I pryed about, in euery vacant place,
And while I ſaw God Morpheus, was ſtill with Venus grace.
And Venus did perceiue mee, to Morpheus thus ſhée ſayd,
My Lorde the preſence of this lad, doth make vs ſore diſmayde.
Feare not (quoth Morpheus then) there is no cauſe to doute,
For hee which is within your Court, can neuer iſſue out.
Wherwith I trembled ſore, for feare hee ſayd to true,
I wept, I wailde, and thus I ſayd, I haue my wages due.
Then Venus ſat her downe, among her Lordly peeres,
And Mars his ſouldiers guarded her, with Billes, with Bowes and ſpéeres.
I aſked Morpheus then, whither Cupid did reſorte?
Hee ſayd that hee was marchte to feelde, againſt Dianas court.
Whom I would faine haue ſeene, but time did it deny,
And Morpheus ſayd tis time to goe, the ſtarres be in the ſky.
But yet hée promiſed mee, againſt another day,
For to addreſſe himſelfe agayne, to ſhew mee all that way.
Wherwith hee pluckt mee backe, and ſaid, come let vs go,
I was preparde with willing minde, for why I wiſht it ſo.
The way wée paſt before, wee entred in againe,
Where fearce Affliction and Doubt, as Porters did remaine.
By Care and Appetite, Fickleneſſe and Change of Ioy,
By euery Path, and euery Tombe, wée paſt the former way.
(Quoth Morpheus now adue) till Cupids Hoſt do fight,
Then will I haue thee to the feelde, and ſhew thee all that ſight.
Wherwith I wakte and ſaw, what folly I had ſeene,
And what in viſion did appeare, as it had perfite beene.
Parnaſlus now is gone, and Helicon his ſtreame,
And though this Treatiſe bee not true, yet ſure it is a dreame.
The Argument.
The Gods in Heauen aſſembled all to feaſt,
In midſt of glee Dame Venus telles her fate:
VVherat the Gods in order bee addreſt,
Againſt her foes, for to maintaine her ſtate.
The worlde ſet wide, the fight therin ſhalbe,
Dianas force with wauering hands doth fight:
But blody Mars, with Venus doth agree,
And Dians troupe at laſt is put to flight.
VVhom Cupid chaſe when ſhee to woods doth flye,
And Venus ſonne, returnes triumphantly.
Of Cupid his Campe.
ON Friday at night I layd mée downe, with slepe to take my reſt,
And as in wonted guiſe before, ſo was I now addreſt:
With slumbring ſléepe to take my leaue, of Phebus glittering bemes,
Till Morpheus ſhould bedecke my head, with fantaſies and dreames.
And as I lay, ſo did I looke, with looking long diſmayde,
With ſodayne ſightes my dazeled eyes did make my hart afrayd:
For why within my
〈◊〉
eare, mée though a trumpe did ſound,
The noyſe wherof did ſeene ſo ſtrange, it
•
aſt mee flat on ground.
Strait way there did appeare to mee, a viſion where I lay,
Moſt ſtrange to tell (ſo much this ſight my courage did diſmay)
An aged Sire whole gliſtering face with h
•
ary heares bede
•
t
Did ſore appale my dreadfull hart, that ſcant I could erect.
My lingring lymmes, in weried wiſe I couched one in place,
And glaunced oft with leering lookes, to vew his cumly face.
His limmes were fethered on eche part, and winged on eche ſyde,
Wherwith hee tooke his ſpéedy flight: at laſt hée mee eſpyde.
And thus hée ſayth with whirling voyce, make haſte do not delay,
Qyrde vp thy loynes, addreſſe thy ſelfe, to walke this tedious way.
Wherwith as one berefte of wittes, and of my ſences cleane,
I was amazd but did not know, what theſe his words ſhould meane.
Feare not (quoth hee) ſtand not in doubt, for Morpheus is my name,
Which led thee forth to Venus Vale when as thou vewedſt the ſame
And as by promiſe I was bound, ſo now I come agayne,
To leade thee where thou mayſt beholde Diana with her trayne.
In Martiall feelde beeing ready bent, agaynſt Dame Venus ſonne,
But let vs goe leaſt or wee come, the battell bee begonne.
My Lorde (quoth I) I thanke you much, for this your double payne,
Make haſte (quoth hee) let vs depart, make haſte quoth hee againe.
Then went wee forth to lofty ſkyes, our iorney wee did take,
Vnto Appollos curious Tente, for hee a feaſt did make
To all the Gods and Goddeſſes where Iupiter did ſit,
Within a golden chayre of ſtate, and for his honour fit.
Then entred Mars and toke his place, whereas hee thought it beſt,
And Mercury moſt welcome there, vnto Apollo his feaſt.
But gentle Ceres was not come, nor Baccus was not there,
And til they came al things were whiſt, ye Gods could make no chere,
Neptune beſpangled all with ſkales, aſcended to the ſky,
And Protheus as his cuſtome is, did ſounde couragiouſly.
Then Tartar Lake began to flaſh, and Cerb
••
s gan to yell
And all the Feends did homage due, when Pluto came from Hell.
And Pan came forth, with Oaten pipe the ſhepheards all gan play,
The ſheepe ſtood ſtill and gazed on him, as hee paſt by the way:
Saturnus with his withered legges, had almoſt come to late,
But that the Maiſter of the feaſt, regarded his eſtate.
Thus euery one did take his place, in order as they came,
Yea all the Gods and Goddeſſes, did likewiſe doo theſame.
The Table where theſe gueſtes did ſit, was rounded round about,
That where the nobleſt seat there was, twould make one for to dout.
Apollo bearing great goodwill vnto the Muſes nyne,
To them when as hee thought it beſt, a roome hee did aſſyne.
Then Iu
•
o ſate by Iupiter, which did her make abide,
And Pallas twixt God Mercury, and ſweete Apollos ſide.
Dame Ceres with her curious coſt, behaued her ſelfe ſo well,
That ſhee and Baccus at that feaſt, do beare away the bell.
Muſitions ſounded orderly Proſerpine would not heare,
Though Orpheus with his warblinge Harpe, did thinke to finde her there
Arion with his ſiluer ſound, did prayſe the Delpins loue,
And with his quauering melody, did all the Sages mooue.
And Amphion that Theban wight, did ſtreeke his ſtroke ſo euen,
That Pan is riſſe from Bacchus campes, and dance about the Heuen.
Then glauncing forth my rowlinge eye, by chaunce it came to paſſe,
That I eſpyde at firſt vnknowne, whereas God Vulcan was.
Who in the kitchin curiouſly, did worke his wonted feate,
And kindled coales moſt cunningly, to roſte Apollos meat.
The ſeruiters at inſtant feaſt, were laureat Poets all,
Who ready were at becke to bow, when as the Muſes call.
There Hom
••
with his
••
led Pen, a graue and worthy wight,
Among them all did beare the ſway, inioyinge it by right.
Heſiodus was not behinde, whom Pan eſteemed much,
With Laureate Euripides, and many other ſuch.
The Romans flocked there by heapes, olde Ennius bare the ſway,
Whoſe merits with antiquity, the learned ought to way
There witty Virgill did his beſt, and Naſo there did ſerue,
And many moe there were at hand, whoſe merittes ſame deſerue.
Then Morpheus ſayd, loe where he ſtands that worthy Chauſer hight
The cheefeſt of all Engliſhmen, and yet hee was a knight.
There Goure did ſtand, with cap in hand, and Skelton did the same,
And Edwards hee, who while hee liude, did ſit in chaire of fame.
Thus euery thing paſt merely, and Pan good ſporte did make,
For Baccus with his ſugred tales, had made his brayne to ake.
Then when the Gods had feaſted well and good paſtime had made,
Twas Cherill his courſe to come in place, and vſe the Amners trade:
Who caryed forth the Amners hutch, vnto the Porters gate
And fréely gaue vnto the poore, which were preparde therat.
At laſt when as the Gods had waſhte, and rune did well betide,
Iuno and Pallas, with the nyne, withdrew themſelues aſide.
Then entred in among the Gods, a Dame of cumly cheere,
Although beſyrent with ſcalding ſighes, ſhee mourning did appéere,
Twas Venus with her ſmiling lokes, which came from Smyrdo
〈◊〉
And to the Gods which ſat at feaſte, thus ſhée began her tale.
Venus Oration to the Gods.
REnowmed Lordes, to whom my tale I tell,
And worthy Gods, which rule the Heauen and
The
••
uds the brookes, the furious féends of Hell,
And euery thing, that in theſe ſubiectes bee:
Bende downe your eares, and liſten vnto mée,
Harke and giue eare, regard my plaint and tale,
Whom you haue placed, to rule in Smyrdo vale.
From time to time, ſince that you gaue mee powre,
Within my Court to ſit as Iudge of might:
You Gods doo know, that neither day nor howre,
My minde hath been, to ſwerue from trueth and right,
(For all that I doo, I know is in your ſight)
And all my actes, with trueth haue been approoued,
By Iuſtice lawes, whom I haue alwayes loued.
Loe now you Gods, regarde my piteous mone,
Lende mee your hands, which doo your ayde implore:
Rebellious wights, out of my tente be gone,
And vow till death, neuer to ſerue mee more.
Diana ſhee, which went long time before,
Hath armde her ſelfe, with bended bowe in hand,
By force to driue, my ſonne and mee from land.
¶And thus ſhee ſayd, but ſalted ſighes, would let her ſay no more,
And trickling teres ran down by ſtremes, wherof ſhe had great ſtore
And flatling fell before the Gods, and mighty Ioue his throne,
And ofte ſhee dubled forth theſe wordes, regard my piteous mone.
Wherwith the Gods began to wéepe, and euery one was moued,
For Venus in that parte of heauen, of all the Gods was loued.
At laſt the Father of the Gods, tooke vp his louing daughter,
And kiſſed her with louely lippes, theſe wordes hee vtred after.
Ah Venus, Venus, take good cheere, Dian ſhall not preuaile,
Wee will reſiſt her martial might, when as ſhee ſhall aſſaile.
And Cupid hée, whom ſhee deteſts, ſhall lead thy hoſte to feeld,
And I my ſelfe will wend with thee, to make her for to yéeld.
Yea all my mates and faithfull frends, I hope will bee content,
Perdy my Lorde (quoth euery one) wee yeeld to this intent.
Then Mars began to ſmil
•
, and then, the Gods did riſe together:
And euery one in cumly ſorte, did welcome Venus thyther.
Then Mercury did ſound the trumpe, that all the
〈◊〉
did ringe
•
The noyſe therof, great feare no doubt, to all the earth did bring.
Then Pelion gan to ſhake for feare, and Oſsa trembled ſore,
Olimpus with the mighty Alpes did neuer ſ
•
before.
But mighty Mars did ſhake his
••
d, hée
〈◊〉
and ran for ioy,
And kiſſing Venus oft hée ſayd, thy foes I will diſtroy.
By this the Gods he furniſhed, and armed
•
t all neede,
And Ioue himſelfe rides firſt in ranke, vpon a barbed
•
eede,
The Go
•
te ſuffiſeth for his badge, whoſe milke hée loued well,
When milde Meliſſ
•
gaue him ſucke, which then in Crete did dwell.
Then Mercury doth ſound agayne, and all the Gods aſſemble
And as before, ſo Heauen a
•
d earth beginneth againe to tremble,
Amonge the gods which preſent were, olde Priaſus did reſort,
Who wi
•
h Dianas Champions, did thinke to make ſome ſporte.
A garden ſpade this God did bring, euen as his cuſtome was,
Bedeckt with crownes of ſmelling flowre
•
, hée rid vpon an aſſe.
The Gods rid on before apace, for Venus made great haſte,
And Pryaſus was left behinde, hee could not ride ſo faſt.
His Aſſe did trot ſo harde (alas) and put him to ſuch paine,
Hée thought the iorney was to longe, and turned backe agayne.
Then Morpheus turnd himſelfe and ſayd, it is no time to ſtay,
To follow them vnto the Campe, let vs no more delay.
Wherfore I thankte him much that time, for longe I wiſht to ſée,
The royall tentes of Cupids Court, with all their dignitie.
A deſcription of Cupid.
GOd Morpheus was more ſwift thē thoſe, which with Dame Venus came
(Or els by right he ſhould not ſeeme for to inioy his namē.)
Wherfore by his aſſent wée paſt, Dame Venus and her trayne,
With ſpeedy pa
••
vnto the tentes, where Cupid did remayne.
Who deygned I my poore requeſt, to eaſe mee of my charge,
And with his pl
••
ſant tales of truth, deſcribed the God at large.
Whom when
〈◊〉
vewde I was amazde, and all abaſht with feare,
Wherat my guide began to ſmile, and thus hee did declare.
Within that tente and cumly couch, whoſe couering ſeemeth red,
A griſly ghoſt beholde, by whom the mighty Gods bee led.
Whoſe power exceedeth Mars his might, whoſe ſtrength the reſt dot
•
tam
•
Yea none in heauen, in earth nor hell, that can reſiſt the ſame.
Alas my Lorde (quoth I againe) this ſeemes moſt ſtrang and rare,
Should all the Gods which rule in ſkyes, of one boy ſtand in feare.
In deede (quoth hee) this withered wight, doth ſo molleſt their braine,
That thoſe which bee of féebled age, hee turnes to boyes agayne.
For why in trickes of childiſh yéeres, hee cauſeth them to ſtay,
Neglecting duties of great waight, delighting nought but play.
My God (quoth I) to know all things, I greatly doo deſire,
What is the cauſe that Venus ſonne, is naked without attire,
(Quoth Morpheus) hee that liueth in loue, in folly paſſe his dayes,
And has that hath but halfe an eye, may ſet his wauering wayes.
Ah ſilly wight, ah ſhaddow poore, (for fleſh in him is ſkant)
And as hee ſeemeth to bee blinde,
〈◊〉
brow ſo doth hée want.
Hée is a type, (quoth Morpheus then) you know well what I meane,
And too much luſt, and lechery, hath made him very leane.
Not luſt alone, but care and thought, which doth perplex his minde
For to much luſt may bée a cauſe, why Cupid ſeemeth blinde.
For thoſe which liue in louers lawes, regarde not what they doo,
And ofte they thinke to bathe in bliſſe, but ſinke in wretched woe.
A brow hee wants, for by the ſame, his ſouldiers
〈◊〉
deuine,
Wherto the motions of the harte, doo purpoſe to declyne.
And as the brow doth beare the badge, that bringeth death or life,
So they that badge doth hate and ſhun, which ſéeme to tel ſome ſtrife,
But oh my God, why hath hée wings, adioyned to eche ſide,
Becauſe that Cupid changeth ofte, and neuer long abide.
A bowe is bent within his hand, two quiuers at his backe,
Well may hee ſhoote, and wide enough, that doth his eye ſight lacke.
It is not ſo among the Gods, as men ſuppoſe to bée,
Hee ſhootteth ofte, but nere in vaine, ſo ſtedfaſt holdeth hee.
That leane and naked boy, with force his mighty foes doo quell,
That blinde and winged Champion, doth ſhoote excéeding well.
And though hee browleſſe ſeeme to bée, yet doth hee pearce the brain
Through ſkin and bone, hee hits the hart, wheras his Dart remain.
Then maruell not, though all the Gods, doo yéeld for want of might,
Sith none haue force for to reſiſt, the ſtrength of ſuch a knight.
Both man and beaſt, both ſiſh and foule, and all that life doth beare,
Are ſubiecte vnto Cupids bowe, which all the Gods doth feare.
The quiuers which thou dooſt behold, which ſtand this God in ſtead,
The one is full of golden ſhaftes, the other full of lead.
The golden ſtrike, the ſeruent wights, which pas their daies in lou
•
The leade doth wound the braſen harts, wh
•
no complaint can mou
•
Poliphemus with Stenobia young Phedra felt the golde,
Galatea Belerophon, with the lead were ſtricken colde.
This while wee talked at leyſure, loe, wée heard the trumpet ſound,
Wherby we knew the Gods were come, from ſkyes vnto the ground
And as they had pretended erſt, did ſet themſelues in ranckes,
To march with Venus to the Campe, who yeelded them great thanks
And ſounding out, God Mars his trumpe, to ſet them in aray,
They marched forth vnto the féeld, wheras their foes did ſtay,
But fréendly Morpheus had mée firſt, for to diſcribe at large,
The order of God cupids campe, the which I will diſcharge.
And if it pleaſe my Angell then, to call mee to that ſight,
I will diſcribe Dianas hay, which did befall in fight.
A deſcription of Cupid his hoſt.
THe Gods béeing met & Venus ſonne, béeing garniſhed in this wiſe,
By whole conſent to vanquiſh her, which did his lawes diſpiſe,
Mars is aſſended vp the Couch, to guide the horſes right,
And Cupid ſtands with bow in hand, to ſend forth euery knight,
Then Venus layd her heauenly head, vpon God Mars his lap,
And ſayd my Lorde, wee truſt on you, to gouerne well our hap.
The cheefeſt Captaine of the rout, Audacity was named,
Whoſe ſafe conduct of all the hoſt, deſerues not to be blamed.
With him hée led forth Pollicy, Cupid his only ſtay,
Theſe vndertooke by Mars his will, to guide the hoſt that day.
The ſecond Captaine, curteſy, a valiant hoſt did leade,
Who had Delight adioynde to him, to helpe him at his néede.
The Captayne graund, did bid them both, the right wing to p
•
ſſeſſ
•
,
And alwayes to attend the ſame, to driue a way distreſſe.
And on the lefte ſide, ietted Rage, with cruell Tyranny,
Which were as aydes vnto the hoſt, led by Audacity.
I haue not here reſcited thoſe, which petty Captaynes were,
Only my Morpheus charged mee, the chéese for to declare.
But this I ſaw, that Idleneſſe, did beare a worthy ſway,
That Drunkenneſſe and Drowſineſſe, did ſet them in aray.
Diſſention ran from hoſt to hoſt, and Riot ſtood not ſtill,
But all adioynd their helping hands, and furdered with good will
I let paſſe all the Souldiers names, the labor were to long,
And yet my booke would not containe, the names of all the throug.
Thus euery thing beeing finiſhed, ech Souldier ſtanding ſtill,
Beholde a proclamation, was made by Cupids will.
Which offered giftes aboundantly, to any ſouldier there.
To vndertake in Dians tente, a meſſage to declare.
And greete her hartely from him, which blinded bare the bow,
Commaunding her to yéelde in time, and quiet peace to ſhow.
Or els with di
•
t of martiall blade, hee would diſpatch her quite,
And teache all other to beware for to reſiſt his might.
Deſire a champion of great pride, whoſe force deſerued fame,
Before the Gods, and Venus faire, on knée did aſke the ſame.
Which when the Gods had graunted him, and Cupid gaue conſent,
Hee tooke his leaue of all the trayne, and forth to Dian went.
Come let vs go (quoth Morpheus then) this greeting for to here,
I am content my Lord (quoth I) to attend both here and there,
To vew Dianas Court (quoth hee) for to diſcribe the ſame,
To heare the anſwere to Deſire, to know the Captaines name.
For ſhee was ready furniſhed, of Souldiers at her will,
And euery court garniſhed, with Captaynes of great ſkill.
Deſire, who longed to tell his tale, approcht this Dame vnto,
With duty done for curteſie, had chargde him ſo to doo.
But ſith my Angell bad mee firſt, for to diſcribe her traine,
And ſith to ſound a true report my Morphes tooke ſuch paine.
I thinke it moſt conuenient, ſeeing time doth ſerue ſo fit,
Before Deſire haue tolde his tale, for to diſcouer it.
A diſcription of Diana and her army.
IVſt by Eurota flowing ſtreame, where many Lanrelles grow,
A pleaſaunt place, which all the Nimphes, of Dians traine do know.
Beholde God Morpheus offered mee, a place to vew at will,
The ſafe returne of Dians traine, which her heſt doth fulfill.
From out the ſhade this Goddeſſe came, from cha
•
ing of the Bore,
With bow in hand ſo ready bent, and well
••
drest therfore.
Her couch was couerd al with white, white Harts theſame did draw
Whoſe ſwiftneſſe pleaſde Diana well, to bring the Beare in awe.
For ſolely in the woods ſhee kept, in groues ſhee did remaine,
And Acteon hath his tale to tell, although vnto his pai
•
e.
Within the Couch kept Modeſty, as ruler of her will,
Where Prayſe & Honner were as guides, to hold the helme with ſkil.
A crowne ſhée weares of precious price, bed
•
cte in ritch aray,
Whoſe pleaſant lookes, in ſéemely ſorte, her nature did bewray.
Thus while from wood ſhée did returne, vnto the féelde to fight,
And when her hoſt aſſembled was againſt Dame Cupids might.
Beholde the Captaines do diſcharge, the duty that they owe,
And euery one his good intent, to Dians hoſ
•
doe ſhow.
The rout by Chaſtitie is ſwayde, the Miſteriſſe of the reſt,
Who ſet the Souldiers in aray, as ſhée estéemde it beſt.
There Conſtancy is called to ayde, and help
•
them at a néede,
And Tempetance is well eſtéemde; as Dian hath decréede.
Sobriety hath ſage Aduiſe, to counſell Dian well,
And Labor ſtands againſt his foes, their ſloth for to expell.
Fidelity a faithfull freend, within the wood doth ſtay,
Who ſeekes to ſpoyle the forraine foe, as h
•
e paſſe by the way.
For Dian hath commaunded him, to reſt within the wood,
And campe himſelfe moſt orderly, iuſt by Furota stood.
With whom Dame Thisbe takes a place, wher is Pandor his Néete,
And Phedra ſhee which ſomtime was, Duke Theſeus wife of Greece,
And if I ſhould reſite them all, which couched by this brooke,
My pen would ſaynt in halfe the way, in wrighting of this booke,
But ſithe I haue diſcribde the tente, as bréefely as I may,
And as my Morpheus would giue leaue, the ſame for to diſplay.
Behold Deſire preſents him ſelfe, before this Dame on knee,
And from the ſaint, wh
•
m hee did ſerue, th
•
ſe voyces vttered hee,
Deſire his meſſage vnto Diana.
REnow
••
ed Dame, whoſe fame the
〈◊〉
containes,
Whoſe gliſtering face throughout the world appeare:
Cupid my Lorde, in martiall feel
•
••••
ines,
And ſent mee out my me
••
ag
•
to doo:
Whoſe valiant force, the Gods themſelues d
••
st feare,
Cupid I ſay in whom ſuch ioy I finde,
Hath ſent mee forth, to know thy willing minde.
Hee craues of thee that iuſtice
〈◊〉
requeſt,
That thou doo yeeld, and let thy army go:
Thy falſe attempts the Gods themſelues detest,
And euery one, is ſworne thy future foe,
Eche one is bent to worke thy greefe and woe.
With glittering blade, to ſeethy blood
〈◊〉
,
If thou diſdaine, as recreant to yeelde.
And Mars himſelfe, with Venus is aſcended,
Into the Couch, where Cupid
•
raweth his bow:
But yet my Lorde, thus much hath thee befrended,
If thou wilt yeeld, then hee will mercy ſhow:
This for thy ſake on thee hee doth beſtow.
But if thou nill, hee will diſpatch thee quight,
Both thee and thine, by dint of bloody fight.
Accept therfore his mercy and good will,
And deigne to ſhew, obedience for the ſame:
Pitty thy ſelfe, doo not the army ſpill,
Leaſt all the world report this to thy ſhame:
And none that liueth, my louing Lord will blame.
Conſider this, and thinke vpon the paine,
And ſpeake thy minde, that I may returne againe.
¶Thus when Deſire had tolde his tale, to Dian and her traine,
Diana quickly anſwered, Sir knight returne againe.
Let Cupid doo his worſt hee can, his force I doo not feare,
Ne will I yeeld vnto his lawes, nor none that with mee are,
Wherwith a lofty ſhout and noyſe, vnto the ſkye was rayſde,
And Dians courage and good will, of all the rout was praysde,
Deſire beeing hot with raging hate, did thus reply againe,
I doo lament the rufull lot, of them which ſhalbe ſlaine.
For loe as doth the rau
••
ing
〈◊〉
, the ſhéepe in ſtrength excell,
So Cupid with his martiall
〈◊〉
theſe ſtately wordes can quell.
That neither Captaine ſhallbe left
•
, nor ſouldier for to fyght,
Of all this rout, whoſe hands bee pieſt, againſt my Lord his might.
Then Modeſty, Dianas guide, in her behalfe did ſay,
Although wee die in Dians cauſe, our deathes we do not way.
This ſayd, Deſire returnd againe, and vnto Cupid went,
And ſhewed at large, Dianas wordes, as of her whole intent.
And that within the silent wood, wheras Eurota flow,
Fidelity did holde his campe, their force to ouerthrow.
And added this that neither Mars, with all his waighty ſtroke,
Nor all the Gods ſhould bring her necke, vnder God Cupids yoke.
Then cupid ſent Deſire before, the Amb
••
sh for to tame,
Or els perforce to ſcatter them, before the army came.
Deſire doth ſéeke to bee reuengde, of his appointed foe,
And wandring in the Laurell woods vnto Eurota goe.
Wheras Fidelity was preſt, his force for
〈◊〉
withſtand,
And in defence of Dians right, did fight longe hand to hand.
But what could Thisbe then reſ
•
ſt, when Pyram came in ſight,
Or when as worthy Troylus came, how could Dame Cresſid fight.
Phedra ſhee was content to yéelde, Deſire did force her ſo,
And from Dianas faithfull freend, to Cupids campe to go.
What ſhall I ſay, Dianas hoſt, which in the wood did ſtay,
Was ſore abaſht, Fidelity was chaſed quite away.
And many yéelded recreant, not able to deny,
Deſire perforce did force them ſo, eyther to yeeld or dye.
But rather then Dame Creſſid would, ſo quickly ſéeme as dead,
Shee vowed her ſelfe from Troylus true, to ſlattering Diomede.
So that the periured Grecian, or els the Troyan knight,
Should haue Dame Creſſid vnto loue, yea both if ſo it might.
Thus while Deſire do cleare the coaſt, and make the paſſage free,
The hoſt marcht on into the féeld, with thundring harmony.
The noiſe wherof do beate the ſkies, and eke from thence reboundes,
And Mars his muſicke in the ſeeld, aloft Tantara ſoundes.
The ſouldiers ſet them ſelues in rankes, the winges to ſuccor go,
Audacity by Mars his will, hee had commaunded ſo.
But Dian and her worthy traine, when as her fréend was fled,
And for the loſſe of all thoſe freends, with fury was much led,
And oft repeating worthily, my harts take chéere (quoth ſhée)
My life for yours, continue ſtill, ſo ſhall you victors bée.
The ſouldiers fought ſo valyantly, the Captaines did ſo well,
That cupid gan to Crouch for feare, and Dian did excell.
Audacity then ſhooke for feare, when chaſtity withſtood,
And Conſtancy ſhee followed faſt, to ſee the forrain blood.
And if God Cupids pollicy, a reſkue had not found,
Both Venus and her darlings deare, had
•••
lyng fell to ground.
But Pollicy came ruſhing in, and ſent forth mighty Ioue,
Who then diſcended from the ſkyes, to ſerue the God of loue.
Who vanquiſhed Dame Dians hoſt, and made them for to tremble,
And ſundry kindes of vgly ſhapes, hee
〈◊〉
not to diſſemble.
Aurora loued the ſnowy Bull, and L
•
d
•
word the Swan,
And Io lickt her fathers face, which then was pale and wan.
For as the Woolfe among the lambes, ſo Ioue among the hoſt,
I meane among Dame Dians flocke, of whom ſhée vaunt and bo
•••
But when as Fame had ſounded forth, and Brute had blaſed his wil,
That Ioue did vanquiſh worthily, with Pollicy and Skill.
Then Danae fled her way for feare, vnto Acriſius Towre,
Till Iupiter through Pollicy diſcended in a ſhowre.
Achilles then began to rage, before that Troy was ſackte,
And craued of Pollicy his guide, the armur that hee lackte.
Who armed him corragiouſly, in Maydens feate aray,
Till Derdanna ſwelling wombe, his pollicy did bew
•
ay.
And Licomedes was deceiude, the father of the May,
And therfore could not ſtop the ſtep
•
, of young Achilles way.
Then Clodius ruſhed in in haſte, Pompeya for to quell,
Bedect like to the veſtall Dames, wheras his loue did dwell.
Thus Cupid was incorraged, with all his warlike trayne,
Diana which was erſt aloft, is now beat downe agayne.
And all the Gods and Souldiers the, did play their parts ſo well
That Cupid is extolde to heauen, and Dian fell to Hell.
Meduſa Gorgon hearing this, to Pallas alter fled,
Hoping by her aſſiſting hand, in time to bee releeued.
Whom mighty Neptune through deceit, intangled in ſuch ſort,
That ſhée forſook Dianas campe, and fled to Venus Court.
Then Phedr
•
whom deſire had brought, from Dian and her traine,
Ceaſed not in Cupids cauſe to fight, till Hyppolite was ſlayne.
With Pollicy came Gluttony, and Idleneſſe his mate,
And Drowſineſſe hee followed faſt, for feare hee came to late.
Antonius reſiſted long, Queene Cleopatras hoſt,
But yet at laſt through Gluttony, did yee
••
to her requeſt.
When Conſtancy had ſeene the force and hauocke of their foes,
Shee vowed, both life and lands, and fame, in Dians cauſe to loſe,
Rather then Cupid ſhould preuaile, vnto their vtter ſhame,
And all Dame Dians valian
•
wights, accorded in the ſame.
And ioyning harts and hands in one, that battered Cupid ſo,
That hee was neare conſtraind againe, out of the feeld to go.
There Temperance ſtood ſtifly too, and Labor laid on lode,
Sobriety did helpe at neede, when they in danger ſtoode.
But yet alas, this wiſhed ioy, was ſoone brought to an ende,
For Curteſy came ruſhing forth, and brought Delight his freend.
For to reuenge this freſh aſſalt of Dian and her traine,
And to renew the wonted ſtate, of Cupid once againe.
With him came Duke Proteſilaus, with him came Alcyde ſtout,
Hee ſought for Laedomia, this found Dianeira out.
Hector vanquiſhed Andrqmache, that worthy wight of Troy,
And Pryamus with Hecuba, did liue in perfit ioy.
Thus when Dianas Souldiers, began to ſlip away,
Through Curteſy, a thouſand fled, to Cupid in one day.
And few there were, which would remain, with Dian to abide,
But yeeld them ſelfe vnto Delight, betide what might betide.
Who pardned euery one of thoſe, which came with free conſent,
And did remit eche ones offence, before hee did repent.
Then Pluto poſted out for rage, which did this while abide,
And kept the winge with Cruelty, which lay on the left ſide.
Who ſent forth tryple Cerberus, that deuilliſh dogge of Hel,
To fetch away Proſerpina, which then
〈◊〉
Greece did dwell.
Then Appius ſwelled with rage, Virginia to deflowre,
Achilles ſpryte did rage from Hell, Polixina to deuowre.
Lucrecia was tooke in trip, Rage was her forrain foe,
Apollo curſed Caſſandra faire, for Rage bid will him ſo.
Thus cruell Rage, with Curteſy, and with his freend Delight,
With fond Deſire, and Pollicy, which weare God Cupids might.
Haue chaſed away Dianas force, that ſhee her ſelfe muſt flye,
Or yeeld to thoſe, whoſe bloody harts, would cauſe her for to dye.
And to a pleaſant vally hard by (her trayne beeing very ſmall,)
Shee did conuay herſelfe, by flight, as wofull of her fall.
Quoth Morpheus marke this well my freend, and note her trayne I pray
Which when I purpoſed for to doo, their backes were turnd away.
So was I much vnable left, their names for to reſcite,
Which taried with Diana faire, when ſhée was put to flight.
And ſo my guide himſelfe, could not their names vnto mee ſhew,
But this hee had mée publiſh forth, the Souldiers were not few.
Whom Cupid with his louely rout, perſwade with might amayne,
But yet Diana fled ſo faſt her foes returnd agayne.
And vnto Cupid his curious tent, they went for to returne.
With bibbing Baccus and his mate, a while for to ſoiorne.
But as they gan for to returne, to their appointed
〈…〉
,
Beholde they ſaw a virgin pure, which gallantly did come,
(Although to late) to ayd her deare, which then had loſt the day,
But Theſeus ſtepped from the rout, and ſtepped in her way.
Oh then (quoth I) vnto my guide, whom keepes hée in the tent,
Tis Hellena, which too to late, vnto Dame Dian went.
(Quoth Morpheus then) whoſe chaſtity, was won by Theſeus might,
Who when ten yéeres had run their race, was tooke in Dians fight.
Thus while my God did end his talke, Cupid at pallace is,
With all his ſouldiers banketting, with heauenly ioy and bliſſe.
The feaſt indured, very long, the triumphe was not ſmall,
Theſe ioy their goodly victory, the other rue their fall.
At laſt a trumpet gan to ſound, and Preco ſayd his will,
That Venus did commaund them all, no captiue for to kill.
But that with ioy, eche one ſhould wend, and with his priſoner play,
Till Beauty ſhould commaund them all, to walke an other way.
Then euery God departed forth, vnto his heauenly ſeate,
And led with him ſuch priſoners, as hée did thinke it méete.
Then Mars with Iron armes did kiſſe, his darling and his déere,
And that without ſuſpicion, for Vulcan was not there.
And after ſayd adew my déere, then ſhée from couch diſcended,
And tooke God Morpheus by the hand, ſith fate haue mée bef
••
nded.
My Lord (quoth ſhee) reioyce with mee, & thanke the heauenly might,
And you ſhall wend no further now, but reſt with me this night.
With whom my God departed thence, beckning his hand at mee,
As who ſhould ſay, goe pack away, I cannot come to thee.
Wherwith my Angell left mée cleane, and Sopor did the ſame,
And I to former ſence and wit, at Natures pleaſure came.
The Argument.
In Beauties Pallace met, as Cupid had ordaynd,
The Captayne with his crowne, and captiue led away:
All ſtrife, debates, and iarres, which erſt before remaind
VVhen Beauty ſat as Iudge, were ended in that day.
And Hymeneus hee, exhorte them all to wed,
But thoſe which can liue chaſte, he do exempt therfro,
So Cupid is content, to reſt him in his bed:
And Dian choſe her path, in wandring woods to go.
Let Dian take her deare, and Cupid his delight,
For Beauty ſate in throne, to pleaſure euery wight.
Iuſtice and Iudgement, pleaded
at Beauties Barre.
YEt once agayne, before the yéere was ſpent,
I did returne vnto my wonted wiſe:
When as the Sun, to the woods a ſhade had bent,
Whoſe ſmell, and hew, my fancy did ſuffice:
Wheras I couched, and couered both my eyes,
And drowſie ſléepe, did ſoone areſt my hart,
And wiſhed reſt, did binde eche weary part.
And loc as erſt, my fethered Angell came,
And bad mee come, and wait in wonted ſorte:
Doubt not (quoth hee) to vndertake the ſame,
For as I haue, ſo will I bee thy forte,
And eke thy guide, to bringe thee to that porte:
Wheras (be bolde) no danger ſhall in ſewe,
Giue credit now as thou haſt found mee true.
Wherwith I riſe, and gladly paſſed forth,
Not knowing whence, nor whither I ſhould goe:
But followed him, whoſe counſell was much worth,
To eaſe my paine, and rid mee of all woe:
No loue of freend, nor dread of frowning foe,
Abaſht my minde, or ſtrooke my hart in feare,
For drowſie ſleepe had cleene expeld all care.
My God went faſt, whoſe ſteps were neuer ſlow,
And guided mée vnto a fertill Fen:
Where many ſhrubs, of ſundry ſortes did grow,
A place no doubt, vnknowne to mortall men:
Which when I ſaw, I was amaſ
•
d then,
And gladly would, haue knowne the place his name,
But that I durſt, not aſke my guide the ſame.
Within the Fen, there ſtood a Caſtle faire,
Moſt ſtrongly built, moſt cumly to beholde;
The top wherof, aſſended to the aire,
And euery part, was gilted with pure golde:
My guide vnaſked, the circumſtances tolde,
Beauty (quoth hée) within this place doth dwell,
Who veweth this Fen, and rules it paſſing well.
Wherby I ſaw, that which I did not know,
And did perceiue the end of his intent:
At laſt hee dayned, his purpoſe for to ſhow,
What was the cauſe, and why that way hée went:
Wherfore to him I yeelded my conſent,
And forth wee paſt, as hee did thinke it good,
Into the place, wheras this Caſtle ſtoode.
No ſooner did wée enter in the ſame,
But loe a trumpe, did ſound within my eare:
And euery one, gaue eare to ſounding fame,
And noted well, what newes hee did declare:
Yea all thoſe knights, which in the Caſtle were,
Attended well what newes there ſhould befall,
From her which was the Iudge, and Quéene of all.
The Preco ſayd that all which were aſſembled,
With free conſent, their Captiues ſhould reſcyne:
(Wherat no doubt, the feruent louers trembled)
Till Phebus beames, began in morne to ſhine:
Till Lucifer from his loue ſhould decline,
To him which had, Dame Beauties birds in ſtore,
And kept them cleane, full many yeeres of yore.
To him therfore, the priſoners were committed,
Who kept them well, as Beauty did requeſt:
And euery knight, a pleaſant place hath f
•
t0ted,
Where hee alone, that ſilent night might reſt▪
To ſport him ſelfe, as hee ſhould thinke it beſt,
But blame them not, though ſome were wery then,
Which came that day vnto that ioyfull Fen.
But when Dame Nox hath couered euery thing,
And Cinthia, by Phebus is ſent out:
Which to the world, moſt ioyfull light doth bring,
And aydeth thoſe, whom Phebus left in doubt:
Euen ſo I geſſe that moſt of all this rout,
Haue yeelded vp, when Sopor ſeeme
•
o
••
ll,
I neede not geſſe, when Morpheus ſhewd mee all.
And thoſe likewiſe, which in the Cloſet kept,
(Excepting ſome) did lay them downe to reſt:
Who ſighed ſore, while that the other ſlept,
And wayled the loſſe, of them whom they loued beſt:
Of whom that night, there paſſed many a ieſt,
Which if I ſhould reſcite them as they came,
It were enough ſor to diſcorſe the ſame.
Next to the gate, faire Iuliet did lye,
And in
•
he Court young Romeus did ſtay:
F
•
ire
〈◊〉
gaue leue, to peke and pry,
〈…〉
ſfyd, when wilt thou come away.
Windowes (quoth hee) I would aſſend faire May,
I looke to ſee, the place where erſt I came,
But Tibalt hee, hath cloſed vp the ſame.
Then mighty Ioue came ſlidinge downe from Heauen,
And thought to fall, within young Danaes lap:
But yet behold, the tyles were not layd euen,
And hee his head, againſt the ſtenes did rap:
And on the ground, hee did complaine his hap.
Alas (quoth hee) this fall hath made my paine,
Then looke (quoth I) before you ſlide agayne.
Then Orpheus gat leaue to come from Hell,
To chéere vp her, which was his whole delight:
Which in the Luke, with Tartur kinge did dwel,
Whoſe Harpe did ſound, almoſt the ſilent night:
Pluto ſaw that, hee thought hee did not right,
But with his might, hee troubled Orpheus minde,
Who fled for feare, and left his Harpe behinde.
Then Priamus out of the gardaynes came,
Into the place wheras young Lotis lay:
Who while ſhee ſlept, did thinke it was no ſhame,
In ſilent night, with her to ſporte and play:
His Aſſe brayd out, for feare hee ran away.
And durſt not bide, her curteſie to try,
Wherat the Nimphes did laugh exceedingly.
Then Tethis ſonne, began his forme to change,
In ſundry ſorte, as well hee could deuiſe:
A cunning art, a worke which ſeemed moſt ſtrange,
Whoſe firy flames, out of his mouth did riſe:
The Iayler fered, and ſtopped both his eyes,
Then Pr
•
teus hee, vnto Pomona went,
Which turnd him ſelfe, euen for theſame intent.
Neptune ſaw that, and cauſde Triton to ſound,
And Eolus for him did rayſe the weather:
Hée ſought ſo longe at laſt his loue hée found,
And Alcion ſaid, my Lord your are welcome hyther:
I will not ſay, how that they went togeather,
But yet beholde, the kéeper ſpied their play:
The God for feare, did bréechleſſe run his way.
Thus merily wée paſſed all the night,
For Morpheus was, contented in the ſame:
But yet mee thought, there was one paſſing ſight,
Wherat my guide, did finde good ſport and game:
Which to let paſſe, I thinke I were to blame,
I feare no foes, the truth I doo not feare:
For this I ſaw, which now I ſhall declare.
When Clodius, vnto Pompeia wente,
And Vestall omnes, had tooke him in the
•
rip:
They all at once truſt him in continent,
And in their vſe, began this youth to whip:
And what though hee alowe did hang the lip,
They ſent him forth, and this charge did him giue,
To come no more, ſo long as hee ſhould liue.
And thus the night, hath run her timely race,
And Lucifer, hath left Auroras bed:
Don Phebus now, begin to take his place,
And with this Dame, doth reſt his heauenly hed:
His burning beames, do ſtand vs all in ſhed,
And Cinthia ſayth: adue, my brother come:
Vnto whoſe rule, I muſt yeeld vp this rome.
The morning came, the Preco ſound againe,
And chargeth all, in place for to appere:
Where Beauty doth in Iudgement ſeal remaine,
Their direfull doome, or ioyfull newes
•
o here:
They were content, and Morpheus did draw nere,
But Pryapus, when all were in the pla
•
e,
Sadled his Aſſe, and rid away a pace.
For why hée ſayd, ſuch fate did him betide,
And ſuch erployts, that night by him were done:
For feare this God, alas could not abide,
That neede hee muſt, Dame Beauties iudgement ſhun:
For well hée knew, before it was begun,
That hee by her, ſhould iuſtly bée condemned,
And for his feare of all the Gods contemned.
When Preco had tolde forth his ſounding tales,
And all the knights, which came from Cupids war:
Addreſt them ſelues, out of theſe gréeuous gales,
To pleade their caſe, before Dame Beauties Bar:
Pretending there, either to make or mar,
Then Beauty ſate, iuſt Iudgement for to giue:
To truſt, to ſaue, to die and eke to liue.
There all the Gods, aſſembled were in place,
And dainty Venus, ſate by Beauties ſide:
To heare eche plead, and way of euery caſe,
And eke to know, what ende there ſhould betide,
To euery one, that captiue did abide,
The kéeper ſtands, and cryes Lordings giue rome:
Stand from the Bar, and let the priſoners come.
Thus euery thing was brought to perfite ſtay,
The priſoners all doo tremble where they ſtand:
The truſty kéeper, hée make no delay,
But dooth reſigne them to Dame Beauties hand:
To haue eche caſe, with wiſdome duly ſkande,
When all was whiſt, and ſtatutes red at large:
The Cryer gan his dutie to diſcharge.
Then Lemnon knight, and of the Ciclops chéefe,
Iudgement did craue, and Beauty graunt the ſame:
I will quoth hee, you graunt mee ſome reléefe,
For mighty Mars, hath put my wife to ſhame:
Wherat the Gods did finde exceeding game,
And when they ſaw what thing hee went about,
Be whole conſent, they hoyſt the blackſmith out.
Amphy
•
rion did craue a full deuorce,
For Ioue hee ſayd, with him had bin vnkinne:
Then Ioue ſtood vp, and aſked ſome remorce,
And ſayd hee would, content his troubled minde,
Yea Beauty then, did craue ſome grace to finde:
Hee was content, and mighty Ioue therfore,
Did vow himſelfe, neuer to ſerue ſo more.
So great complaints, againſt this God were brought▪
That at the laſt from bench hee ſlipt away:
Iuno was wroth, and due reueng
••
nt ſought,
Of thoſe which had deceiued her of her pray:
Shee rage and fret, ſhee curſeth day by day,
But Beauty ſought, to recompence the wronge,
Whom hee had made, to ſinge the Cookoes ſonge.
I let paſſe all, till Menelaus came,
And did complaine, becauſe hee loſt his peece:
The Troian knight, hee only ſought to blame,
Which had conuayed, this Diamond from Greece:
More loſſe then hee, which loſt the golden fleece,
The greefe wherof, did hazard much his helth,
For that the knight, had tooke this Dame by ſtelth.
Oenone then did heare this great complaint,
And fiatling
•
ell, vpon her tender knee:
Lo worthy kinge beholde thy wiſhed Sainte,
Hath ſtole away, my loyall knight from mee:
With trickling teares, theſe voyces vttered ſhee,
And wiſht the Iudge, her ſentence to declare,
To aſſwage her paine, and rid her of her care.
Then Beauty ſayd, ſith Paris hath delt ſo,
And left this dame, which cheriſhed him before:
(When as his ſire, did ſéeke to worke his woe,)
Who vnto him two children hath ybore:
Oenone liues, thy loſſe for to deplore,
Cheriſh thy babes, which for their fathers cry,
Defame hath vowed, his fact ſhall neuer dye.
And as for her which hath this acte committed,
The blood of them, whoſe bones at Troy do ſtay:
Reuengment craues, the Gods haue it permitted,
Wherfore (quoth ſhée) let her be led away:
But whither it was, I cannot truly ſay,
Yet Morpheus ſayd, that Robinſon ſhould tell,
As well her paine, as where this Lady dwell.
Then Menalaus was ſory for his make,
Whoſe tricklinge teares, the Troians did inuie:
Who in the feeld, had periſhed for her ſake,
So did the Greekes, which buried there doo lye:
And with conſent, they ceaſed not to cry,
Wo worth the time, that Hellen came to Troy,
Wo worth that knight, which stole y• wretch away.
Then Troylus true, ſtept vp among the rout,
And offered vp the bill of his complaint:
How that by chaunce, hee found his Creslid out,
Whoſe ſhrine he ſerued, whō he had made his ſaint:
For as hee ſayd, Beauty had drawen conſtraint,
Wherfore hee craude, true ſentence for his doome:
That Cressid might poſſeſſe deſerued roome,
But Diomed when as hee hard the truth,
Hee gate (Perforce) to parle in his cauſe:
Who moued the bench, with Pitty, Mone, and Ruth.
And ſayd that ſhee, had neuer broke the lawes:
But yeelded there, where néede ſo ſtrongly drawes,
Doo what ſhee could, Perforce compeld her ſo:
When ſhee was driuen, from Troy to Greece to go.
Knight Troylus then, remoued the ſute agayne,
Vnto a place, wheras the ground was ſure:
And by aduiſe, hee ceaſed not to complaine,
With hot aſſault, hee ſewed her a periure:
But Diomed ſcant able to indure,
Let fall the ſute vnto Dame Beauties pleaſure,
To end in haſte, or to defer to leyſure.
Then Calcas hee, which was her louing Sire,
Did offer Mynes, and gliſtering gobs of golde:
To ſpare his childe, the Iudge hee did require,
But yet alas, Beauty would not beholde:
Nor yet giue eare, vnto the tale hee tolde,
But iudged her which was the Prophets daughter
A Leper vile, and so ſhée liued after.
And as for him, which was the Troian knight,
With louely lookes, ſhee often gaue good cheere:
Though for her ſake, hee ended in the fight,
Yet truth ſhall try, it plainly ſhall appéere:
That his deſertes, ſo long as man liue here,
Shall pearce the clowdes, for euery man ſhall ſhew
That hee was iuſt, and to his Lady true.
Achilles then came trembling forth of Hell,
And brought with him Polixina the bright,
Whom hee did craue, becauſe hee loued ſo well,
And ſhould haue had if Paris had doone right:
But Beauty ſhee, deſired the Grecian knight,
To ſtay his hand, and hold his liuely breath:
Contenting him, by faire Polixines death.
Orestes came into his former rage,
Which Pirrus felt, before Dame Beauties har:
The Iudge did riſe, his fury to asswage,
And did demaund the cauſe of all that iar:
Nestor auoucht, before hee went to war,
Hermione was young Oreſtes right,
Wherfore my thought the Iury ſet him quite.
Leander cryed and craued to haue the law,
And Hero ſhee, began with ſobs to waile:
Of Neptunes force, they both did ſtand in awe,
They labored much, but yet could not preuaile:
They daily ſought, but yet therin did faile,
Neptune (quoth hee) doth loue my Dame ſo deare,
That through his force, I am driuen backe by feare
Then Neptunes loue, began therat to frowne,
And for his ſake, Dame Hero did inuy:
And did not ceaſe, to ſeeke to put her downe,
In Neptunes lap, ſhée often times did cry:
Whoſe ſilly teares, her louers loue did try,
And hee content, to pleaſe this gallant Dame:
At her requeſt, reu
•
nged him of theſame.
And on the Seas, hée taught this ſilly knight,
And ſonke his boate, within the flowing floods:
Where hee was drowned, and queſned by diſpight
This did the God to doo his lady good:
But ſhee alas, being fed with furious moode,
Caſt vp his corpes, which Hero did eſpye,
And fell from Towre, and with her loue did dye.
Amulius brought in his brothers childe,
Whom hee had lockt within the veſtall caue:
Accuſing Mars, which had that Dame beguilde,
And cauſed her loſe, the life that ſhee would ſaue:
But Mars in wrath, this spéedy ſentence gaue,
That Illias Impes, ſhould worke Amulius ſhame:
Who after that had taſted of the ſame.
Then Minos wife came raging all in ire,
And Beauty aſked, her purpoſe and intent:
That ſpeckled Bull (quoth ſhée) I doo deſire,
The Gods gan laugh, and yéelded her conſent:
Forthwith from thence, to Dedalus ſhée went,
But Beauty ſhould, and did this fact deteſt,
And ſent forth Ire, to gnaw king Minos breſt.
Then Theſeus fréend, ſhee ſtood on Naxus Ile,
And cryed alowd vnto the powres aboue:
Whom Baccus caught, and brought from long exile,
And in the ende, did chooſe her for his loue:
Whoſe rufull mone, Dame Beauties hart did mooue,
But all the Gods ſent Theſeus into Hell:
Whoſe paynes were more, then any toung can tell.
Then Alpheus did Arethuſa chaſe,
And left his courſe, euen as hée thought it beſt:
Diana ſhée, did ſtay her of her race,
And yet deceiued this long deſiring gueſt:
And ſith in her, ſhée ſaw a faythfull breſt,
By Beauties will, ſhée changed her forme away:
Into a ſpring, which in her name did ſtay.
Then Cepheus childe, fearing the monſters might,
Cride to the Gods, vpon her mothers pride:
But Perſeus hart, relented at the ſight,
And truly vowde, no longer to abide,
Till for her ſake, the monſter hée had tryde:
And on conflicte, hee ended breathinge life,
And Beauty gaue, this damſell for his wife.
Apollo hée, which gaue Caſſandra wit,
To tell all things, which after ſhould inſew:
Before the bar, wheras the Iudge did ſit,
His whole complaint in open pleaded ſhew:
Hee ſayd that ſhée, had neuer prooued true,
Wherat the Iudge, did ware exceeding wanne:
And longe amazde, at laſt ſhée thus beganne.
Sith you (quoth ſhée) which gaue to her this gifte,
Can not obtayne, the troth which ſhee did plight:
Tis good for you to vſe ſome other ſhifte,
Her falſe attempt, ſome other way to quite:
Wherfore the God, thus ſaid in open ſight,
The wordes ſhee ſpake, no Troian ſhall beléeue,
But eche mans minde, they ſhall moleſt and gréene.
A thouſand more, to long for to repeate,
Came thronging in, the Iudgement for to heare:
Such preace was made, before Dame Beauties ſeat,
Of thoſe which came, their matters to declare:
That if I ſhould name all that did appeare
It were to much, the labour were to long,
My pen would faint, and ſay it had great wrong.
Sardanapalus, ſomtime Thasſirian kinge,
With ſtrange attire hée entered into place:
Vpon his head a helmet hee did bring,
And in his hand, hée held a gliſtering glaſſe:
In Queenes attire, this foole bedecked was,
A rout of Hoares, and Concubines hée led,
Which while hee liude his greedy humors fed.
But Beauty bluſht, and bid him packe away,
And Venus ſmilde as one which likte it well:
Arbactus came of him to make a pray,
Whoſe wicked vſe in preſence hée did tell:
Whoſe life in pompe, and pleaſure did excell,
Then Beauty ſayd procure his timely death:
Arbactus went, and ſtopt his fatall breath.
What ſhould I ſay eche one which did complayne,
Hath out of hand, a iudgement and redreſſe:
The Crier hee is gathering of his gaine,
Eche
•••
icer is buſied with no leſſe:
The inhabiters, prouide for gallant gueſſe.
And eueryone, prepareth paſſing chéere,
But euery thing is ſolde exceeding deere.
Since Saturns dayes, and golden yéeres ypaſt,
Since Ioue his birth, and all his brethren
•
eere:
If ought were done, whoſe fame till now doth laſt,
You may ſuppoſe that it was truly there:
Yea euery thing in order did appere,
And euery iar, that preſent time was ended,
And eche offence, by iudgement was amended.
And ſince that time, I truly muſt confeſſe,
All ſtrife is doone, Dian loues no debate:
Shée liues no more in woods and wilderneſſe,
But euery one hath chooſe a cherefull mate:
And ſome ſo much this life of hers do hate,
That for the feare of Cupids curſed checke,
They yeeld to bow, and come at euery becke.
Then maruell not, though Cupid rule alone,
And though eche wight is ready to obay:
For ſurely now Dianas hoſt is gone,
Her troupe is ſmall, which in the woods doo ſtay:
When Cupid comes, eche one doth run his way,
Yet ſome there bee, I can it not deny,
Which liue with her, with whom they meane to dye.
There Pitty ſtood, and pleaded many a
•
aſe,
The blinded boy, had wiſht him ſo to doo.
And often times, the Iudge to him gaue place,
As well for freend, as eke for forrain foe:
For ſure ſhee thought, moſt meete for to doo ſo,
That freend and foe, might ioyne them both in one,
And as they ought, worſhip Cupid alone.
Thus euery thing, béeing brought to purfit end,
And euery one contented with the ſame:
Then mighty Ioue, from lofty clowdes did ſend,
His truſty knight, which vnto Beauty came:
Who merily began the Court to blame,
For that it ſtayd, and did defer ſo long:
While Vulcan thought, the kitchin had ſome wrong.
For when as Ioue from of the bench did part,
Whoſe eares did glow, to heare ſo many cry:
The ſore complaints, did mone his tender hart,
With ſpéedy pace hee mounted to the ſkye:
And cauſed his cookes with Vulcan for to try,
Till all delights for Beauties trayne did ſtay:
For whom hee ſent and wiſht to come away.
Then Beauty riſde, and thus ſhe gan to ſay,
My noble Lords, and Ladyes of eſtate:
Much are you bound, for this your happy day,
Your harty thankes to yeeld vnto your fate:
For that this Court, hath baniſhed debate.
Then marke what hee, which is ordainde to ſpeake,
Shall brefely ſay, and then the Court ſhall breake.
From of the bench, a cumly Lord did riſe,
Which vnto all dit pleaſantly appéere:
And vnto Heauen, hee fixed his ſtedfaſt eyes,
Whoſe couler came, which did increaſe his chéere:
Whoſe voyce was ſuch that euery man might here.
And at the laſt (making no long delay)
With filed ſpeech thus hee began to ſay.
Himenae his Oration.
REnowmed Lordes giue eare, and marke what I ſhall ſay,
Which now haue ſéene the whole exploires of all this lucky day.
I Hymenaeus hight whoſe force you do obay,
In whom (twiſe happy may you bee) if you do rightly ſtay.
Now therfore ſith ech caſe, hath bin diſcourſed at large,
And ſith the Iudge, by Iuſtice rule her duty did diſcharge.
Leaue of thoſe wanton toyes of loue, beeing vſed amiſſe,
And loue the lawes of wedlocks bond, which much more ſéemely is.
And you which long haue erred, and wandered to and fro,
Reuoke your ſelues, and ſtay your race, and ceaſe for to doo ſo.
For holy bée the lawes, which wedlocke doo maintaine,
And duty muſt perforce be giuen, to thoſe which there remaine.
To range abrode in woods, as many vſde before,
Beſéeme the brutiſh beaſt to doo, then vſe that vſe no more.
Let Iuno ſerue for Ioue, ſufficing for his wife,
And let not Neptune with his mate, diſpiſe to lede his life.
If Hypolite the chaſ't, can leade his life ſo ſtill,
Why ſhould not P
••
edra ſuffer him, to doo after his will?
What ill affectes bée theſe, cut of thoſe Impes I pray.
Which may both bring the
•
oote and ſtocke, with branches to decay.
And thus I end in bréefe, as e
•
ſt I haue begonne,
Deſiring you to ſet your
••
lues, in wedlockes lawes to ronne.
¶This ſayd hee ceaſt, and ſetled downe agayne,
And Beauty roſe, and vttered all her minde:
Requeſting them that they would take the payne,
To wend with her, as Ioue had then aſſi
•
de:
They did conſent as duty did them binde,
But ere they went, beholde what did betide:
To mee poore ſoule, which did that ſight abide.
For as I looked, on euery thing that fell,
I did neglect, wheras my guide did goe:
And glauncing lookes, within that place did dwell,
With ſpeedy pace, came running mee vnto,
Who drew mee forth, euen as a furious foe:
Who ſtraightly ſaid, thy iudgement
•
s;halbe geuen,
Bee ſure to dye, God bring thy soule to Heauen.
Hée drew mee forth, and vrged mee to goe,
Yea Mauger all my force and all my might:
Alas ſayd I, what meane you to doo ſo,
Take ſome remorſe, and ceaſe to worke your ſpight:
Doo well (quoth hee) if that thy caſe bee right,
Wherfore I wept, but yet alas in vaine,
And on my guide, I ceaſt not to complayne.
I ſweat for feare, I tremble for to tell,
My haire ſtood vp, my ſences were agaſt:
My reddy blood, this terror did expell,
Before that time, which in my cheekes was plaſte:
And yet my foe did draw mee forth in haſte,
Who told the Iudge, where hee had found mee out,
When all the throng began topreace about.
And when they ſaw, what nouelty had hapt,
Then euery one, began to ſhout and cry:
And on my head, their tender handes they clapt,
And ſayd good Sir, you are welcome hartely:
Wherwith I thankte them for their curteſie,
Whē teares and ſwet, ran down my face by ſtremes
They awakte mee out of this dreadfull dremes.
So ſince that time I neither ſaw my foe,
Nor yet my guide, which then was ſlipt away:
Nay can I tell, if they to ſkyes did goe,
As Beauty had pretended all that day:
Of this nor that, no more I haue to ſay,
But when I wakte, I went from ſilent ſhade:
For darkeſome night, the earth did then inuade.
And here beholde, I breefely will conclude,
For why? my pen is weary of her toyle:
But yet I pray, beare with theſe termes ſo rude.
And for my payne, yeeld not my worke
•
he foyle:
Now gentle Muſe, vnto thy Caue recoyle,
I yeeld thee thankes, for this thy gentle hart:
Thy Maiſter hee, hath playd his wiſhed parte.
And though not ſo, as hee hath wiſht to doo,
Yet for his ſkill, hee hath diſplayde his due:
Hee craues remorce, if that it chaunceth ſo,
That any crime, therof there ſhould inſue:
Or if his pen, hath writ more then is true,
Iudge you which haue, run in this tedious way,
The Author doth expect what you will ſay.
To I. C.
IF it had not been, gentle I. C. for your earneſt intreatie, whoſe
wordes might commaunde mee, I aſſure you, that theſe three
trifles had not come vnto the handes of any reader, for feare of infamy,
which I doubt that they ſhall incurre, by meanes of the vnſkilfull
reader. But beeinge perſwaded that they ſhall neuer bee
red of any, (you only excepted, and your louing Brother) I haue
taken the paine, (which for your cauſe,
〈◊〉
accompt but a ſporte) for
to ſet them downe in the forefrunt. Partly for that they fight
all vnder one Enſigne: Partly for that the other which follow,
bee written vnto ſundry perſons. Let mee therfore gentle I. C.
intreate you to kepe theſe cloſe, leſt they come to the handes of
them which may for the publiſhing of them, bee by right moued
with mee. Fare you well.
The lyfe and death of Maiſter, T.
Cicero, who was slayne, beeinge
63. yeares of age.
NO legend lye, no fable fond, no tatling tale I tell,
No treaſure of Thalias Schoole, my ſhop hath for to ſell:
Come Chapmen come, come vew and ſée, and bargain for the beſt,
And ſee the hap of him, whoſe hand, held Rome in perfit reſt.
Whoſe yll reward for paines beeing paſt, when as you doo perceiue,
Although they moue not watery ſtreames, to wéepe yet giue me leue
For when I writ with painfull pen, that which I had begun,
The teares diſtild from watery eyne, whence flowing floods did run.
And ſorrowed down my moiſtned chéekes, repleat wt greuous mone,
And ſeaſ
•
ed ſighes with ſalted Seas, I vttered many a one.
And thus my Muſe amazde my minde, and kept my hart in feare,
Since firſt I tooke my quiuering quill, his actes for to declare.
In Italy an auncient Towne, that once Arpinum hight,
Which erſt the Volſcian kinges inioyed, by title truth and right.
Yet after ſubiect vnto Rome, as cuſtome did conſtraine,
Somtime there was, and yet perhaps, to this day do remaine.
Herin did Olbia hide her ſelfe, a Matron pure and milde,
And to her Tullius ioyfull ſpouſe, brought forth a louely childe.
A bleſſed babe whoſe noble ſtocke, neuer brought vnto decay,
(Of auncient Volſcian kinges hee came, as writers did bewray.)
Did claime and challenge rightfully, that which long time was loſt,
And hope did make the hartes reioyce, within Arpinum coſte.
In youth (as well beſeemeth youth) in ſchoole hee ſpent his daies,
Who wan renowme vnto the ſame, and to it purchaſt praiſe.
And happy might that Maiſter bee, which ſuch a ſcholler taught,
Who to the ſeede that hee did ſow, ſuch great increaſe hath brought.
And one thing doth reuiue my hart, and fill my minde with ioyes,
In gallant youth with Poets arte, hee publiſht many toyes.
Wherby I iudge that Poets ſkill, in youth is not condemned,
Nor practiſe of ſuch painfull workes, in it ſhould bee contemned.
For what can more reuiue the hart, or ſharpen dulled wit,
Or els to recreate the minde, few ſtudies bee ſo fit.
As Poetry wherin I finde, that Plato did delight,
While youth did laſt as erſt did hée, of whom my Muſe doth wright.
When ryper yeeres gan run their race, and tender times wer ſpent,
With humain artes beeing furniſhed, and not therwith content.
To ciuill law hee lent a time, where hee long time did ſtay,
And while hee liued through Roman rout, did beare the price away
And ioyned true Philoſophy vnto the law an aide,
A helpe to thoſe vndoubtedly, which in that trade are ſtaide.
Wherof how much hee pend with ſkill, your witneſſe I implore,
(If all his workes had come to light) which haue his workes in ſtore
At laſt when courage gan to pricke, and ſtrength his minde did moue
And martiall feates did put him forth, the force of Mars to proue.
With ſhining ſword, and battering blowes, his golden ſpurs did win
By dint of blade in Scillas ſéege, by chance hée entered in.
Whoſe péereleſſe proweſſe of youthfull yéeres, delighted Scilla ſo,
That hee by graunt permitted him, in peace to Rome to goe.
And line among his faithfull fréends, to couch himſelfe in reſt,
Eche thing was free for him to vſe, euen what hée fancied beſt▪
Where while hée vſed his former vſe, which erſt did ſeeme him good,
And for his freend in open plea, his frettin
•
foes withſtood.
Lo Sextus Boſcius is accuſed, by Scilla and his traine,
And Tully muſt come tell his tale, to ſet him frée againe.
Wherwith the Tyrant gan to ſwell, but him for to preuent,
Hee doth abſtaine from royall Rome, and vnto Athens went.
And practiſed the Roman
••
ing, annexed with the Greeke,
That Athens neuer ſince that time, in her containd the like.
For at that time though Rome did rule, yet Athens did excell,
In knowledge of the Sciences, where all the Artes did dwell.
Till Tully tryed and found the truth, which hée in time reuealed.
And found out arte, in natiue ſpeeche, which long had bin concealed.
Which Apollonius tolde before that then the crowne did beare,
And purchaſt praiſe in Orators, which then in Athens were.
Alas (ſaith hee) I rue your caſe (you Grecians) and decay,
Fo
•
that which once was left to you, Tully ſhall take away.
Now Scilla draweth to his ende, and death hath paid his due,
And Tully did returne to Rome, which crſt hée did eſchue.
From thence to Cicilye hee went, beeing Queſtor of the ſame,
And did the duty meete for him, which in that office came.
So well hée ruled, that fréend and foe, his is wiſdome did content,
His perfit time, beeing brought to end, againe to Rome hee went.
In tracte of time the conſulſhip, was giuen vnto his lot,
Which hee diſcharged worthely, true iuſtice not forgot.
His counſaile and his grauity, his duty did diſcharge,
His wiſdome and authority, did ſhew exceeding large.
Hee cauſed Ca
•
elyne to trudge, whoſe flight his ma
•••
did wound,
And by his pollicy, hee kept the Cittie ſafe and found.
And they which threatned fire and ſword, with ſlaughter to their ſoils
Doo groueling grone vpon the ground, wheras they haue the ſoile.
And hee triumphing of his hap, as did beſeeme his might,
Is called Pater Patriae, by Iuſtice law and right.
The firſt alſo which wan that name, beeing neuer heard before,
The good eſtate to natiue ſoyle, hee ſought for to reſtore.
His wife was named Terentia, in whom hee was beguilde,
Of whom hee had young Cicero, and Tullia the milde.
A freend hee was to verity, no fayned wordes to vtter,
Ne would hee ſpeake diſſemblingly, nor gloſe in any matter.
As well appeard in Clodius fact, for then in Rome there were
The ſacred Dames which vowed thēſelues, the veſtall weeds to bere
A law there was and well obſerued, that none but women ſhould,
Doo rites and homage in that place, for ſo Dame Veſta would.
Within that place Pompeia kept, which was then Caeſar his wife,
Whom Clodius with vnlawfull luſt, did loue with all his life.
And when no way hee could attaine, his pleaſure to poſſeſſe,
To offer wrong to Caeſars bed, his hart was in diſtreſſe.
But yet hee did attempt this feate, bede
•
t in maydes aray,
And with the veſtalles offered rites, and duties all that day:
In hope Pompeia to imbrace and vanquiſh in the night,
But after when this famous fact was publiſht in the light:
The Veſtals thinke they had great wrong and ſtrait an action draw,
Accuūng Clodius they doo craue, the rigor of the law.
Then Clodius to award this blow, and to driue back this dome,
Proteſt that
•
ee that preſent day, was not in roiall Rome.
And for his witneſſe brings out him, of whom my Muſe doth wright,
But Tully ſticking to the truth, layeth out the cauſe aright.
That Clodius that preſent day (which Clodius did denye)
Met him in Rome, which many more, affirmed ſtedfaſtly.
Thus Clodius all inwrapt in care, of golde did make a fréend,
Who ſet him free from Iudgment bar, and did the Iudges blinde.
Whoſe flattering face and priuy bribes, did ſoone corrupt the law,
And fauour of all noble men, from Tully did withdraw.
Who perſecuted Tully ſo, as well with w
•
rdes as might,
That hee perforce conſtrayneth him to fly from Rome by night.
And as an exixe ſixteene monethes, in exile did remayne,
Till hée by Pompyes good ſucceſſe, was called home againe.
Whom Clodius ceaſt not to assaile, and ſharply to inuade.
Till Milo ſtopt his liuely breath, by force of glittering blade.
When Clodius had his true deſert, and Tullies foes where gone,
Then fortune fauoured his ſucceſſe, which erſt had cauſe to moue.
And Craſſus is become his fréend, which erſt did him inuye,
And Caeſar did maintaine his caſe, which long did looke awry.
And who ſo good a freend to him as Pompye through whoſe plea,
His goods which Clodius did conſume, to him reſtored bee.
And when as death with dauncing Dart, did end by Craſſus race,
Cecylia ceaſt was giuen to him, the Parthians for to chaſe.
Who ruled the prouince in ſuch ſort, that Parthia ceaſe to fight,
And Tully was ordained at Rome, to triumph by his right.
But diſcorde mooued betwéene the péeres, hée did refuſe the ſame,
And gladly did prefer the weale, before his praiſe of fame.
But wo is mee with battering blowes, the ſtate of Rome decay,
And Caeſar ſekes by dints of ſworde, to take theſame away.
What ſhall I ſay, no feare of foes, appaled Tullies hart,
No fréendſhip hath withdrawne his minde, to leue the righteſt part.
But Pompye ſlaine, and Cato dead, and Tully quited free,
Hee left the ſworde which erſt was wont, his whole delight to bee.
And Soly ſought his Cuntries wealth, and Homer to maintaine,
And that which long was hid before, by ſkill hée made moſt plaine.
So that throughout the Roman coaſt, wh
•
ſpake of Tully then,
Might iuſtly ſay that hée was borne, to profit other men.
For as hee did deſerue great fame, by profit to the weale,
Euen ſo the lawes of Eloquence, hee iuſtly did re
•
eale.
And hath a title of renowne, drawne out of learnings lore,
Which many Greekes in Grecian ſoyle, could not attaine before.
But yet alas I rew to tel
•
, I tremble all to late,
That curſed ſlippery Fortunes wheele, inuieth all mens eſtate.
Who erſt had raiſde him to the Mount, of pleaſure and delight,
Who had renowmed his famous fact, where Titan giueth light.
Who had exalted all his deedes, with honor and renowne,
Doth now begin with boyſterous ſtormes, to beat him cleane adow
•
Terentia prooueth moſt vntrue, whoſe faith ſhould not haue ſwerued,
With whom hee made a cleane diuorce, as well her déedes deſerued,
Then poore eſtate began to pricke, and panges of pinching death,
By yll ſucceſſe of Fortunes ſpite, did ſtop his daughters breath.
Antonius then began to rage, the greateſt greefe and ſmart,
Who ſeekes the ſtate of Roman ſeate, by all meanes to ſubuert.
Octauius is appald with feare, the Egiptians flockt by rout,
And all the Senate quake fordread, and make their praiers deuout.
The Tyrants trayne and griſly ghoſt, could not olde Tully quell,
Nor cauſe his tongue to ſtay from talke, Antonius facte to tell.
But might (alas) expelleth truth, as plainly did appeare,
When force laide waite to trip the iuſt, then Tully fled for feare:
To him whom erſt hes had preſerued, whoſe ayde hee did implore,
His helpe hee ſought, whom hee had helpt, and foſtered long before,
Who through his ayde then ruled as Prince, and Caeſar ouer all,
But harke alas, I rue to tell, what hap did him befall.
Octauius thyrſty of the Crowne, inflamed with heate of wealth,
Neglecting Tullyes ſmall requeſt, hee did not way his health.
And for a true (oh curſed wretch,) hée yeelded to his foe,
The wiſhed pray of Tullyes life, which hee deſired ſo.
The Sparrow hatcht the Coockoes birde, which ſoone did ſée his ende,
Hee fled alas vnto his foe, whom hée eſteemde his freend.
Oh diueliſh deede, oh luckleſſe lot, oh day of dolefull dome,
Oh helliſh hound, vnworthy wretch, to rule in royall Rome.
Hath curſed care bewitcht thy braine? hath pride or péeuiſh pelfe,
Made thée betray him whom thou oughtſt, regard more then thy ſelfe
Alas alas, run Tully run, the bargain now is made,
Thy blood muſt make great fréends of foes, oh trickes of tigers trade.
Antonius ſeekes to lay thee flat, tis time to packe away,
When ſounding fame this true report, to Tully did bewray.
To Seas hee hent, whoſe waſhinge waues did cauſe him to returne,
For why, I thinke the fatall Dames, his dedly wound had ſworne.
Whom Antony did neuer ceaſe, with haſty ſpeede to chaſe.
Till hee by Fortunes crooked blaſt, had won him in his race.
And ſent Popili
•
s (whom long ſince, Tully had
•
aued from ſhame,)
To ſtop his breath whoſe ſtony hart, accorded to the ſame.
From whom hee tooke both hands and head, and le
•
t the carcaſſe ſtill
And brought to Antony his Lorde, his greedy
•
orge to fill.
Who cauſed them on Senate top, for to poſſeſſe a place,
Where Tully
•
ft had tried his wit in many a worthy caſe.
Whoſe
〈…〉
eche one
〈◊〉
, which paſ
•
ed to and fro,
And ſent forth many ſobb
••
and teares, for greefe of Tullyes woe.
That now not only Romans wayle, but all the world lament,
And ceaſe not for the loſſe of him, to curſe his foes intent.
Vt voce ſic vultu ac vita.
This Epitaph following of P. Ramus the Poore knight,
hath often tolde mee, to bee a freendes of his in Cambridge,
and not of his owne indightinge, which if it
bee, I craue pardon of the Author, and I loue it to the
conſideration of the Reader.
An Epitaph vpon the death of the famous
Phyloſopher, P. Ramus, who was murdered
in the perſecution of Fraunce, 26. Auguſti.
Anno Domini. 1572.
Etatis circiter. 57.
YE Ladyes faire of Hellicon, come helpe for to deplore,
The loſſe of him who while hee liude, your Alters did adore.
The baw, y• branch, which bare ſuch frute, whoſe taſt & pleſant ſauor,
Did moue the harts, of all the impes, which ſought to win your fauor.
Who plighted paine to Hellicon, in Parna
•
was his pleaſure,
Who drunke of Aganippas well, in Theſpias was his treaſure.
By ſundry ſortes hee ſought to clyme, the Mount which merit fame,
No thorne this was, but fruitfull tree, his faults declare the ſame.
Oh would you could permit the pen, and quiuering quill to wright,
Wherwith olde Homer did diſcourſe, the toyle of Troian fight.
Or els from of Carmeſ
•
as bed, Apelles raiſe againe,
To hew his tombe cunning hand, whō denting death hath ſlain
Fye Poets, fy: fy, fy, for ſhame: vniuſt you ſeeme to bee.
To pen the praiſe of buſh and ſhrub, and to let pas this tree.
Who yeelded frute to euery one, of ſweete & ſugred ſauor,
Now winters blaſt hath blown him bare, ſhal none requite his labor
If Virgils verſe I could atchiue, his renowme to declare,
No Textor his toyle, ſhould quaile my Muſe, or put my mind in feare
Or for to yen olde Ramus proiſe, then bleſſed wight I were.
If I of him as hée could doo, while hee was liuing here.
A Iem, a ioy, a freend to France, yet France to him a foe,
A Lampe of light, to thoſe which ſeeke, to Parnas Hill to goe.
What ſhould I ſay, a péereles perle, and of a precious price.
A teacher to the ſilly ſoule, a Iudge amongſt the wiſe.
A Spectacle to ſtudients, to youth a perfit glaſſe,
A reſcue to Religion, when diſcorde mooued was.
A light to good Logicions, a pen to Tullies praiſe,
A Pilot vnto paſſengers, which bée to ſaile thoſe ſeas.
A Mirror to Philoſophy, an ayd to them which bee,
Minded to feede vpon the frute, which grow vpon this tree
Thus while he liued in ſkilful ſchooles, and taught moſt perfit waies,
The roote, the ſtock, which bare this branch, did win immortal praiſe
And while he ſought to clere the ſprings, being ſtopt with filthy mier
His pai
•
es did purchaſe publicke foes, as paiment for his hier.
And while hee ſought the truth to tell, by proofe to try the ſame.
Alectos ſhaked her ſnaky ſnout, and from Cocitus came,
Whoſe griſly ghoſt did moue the mindes, of thoſe whom furyfed,
How tumults ſtirred their libels loſt, ſuch frute Alectos bred.
Olde Ramus hee, whoſe tongue was truth, whoſe pen did puchaſe fame,
By ſtraight edict muſt ſilent reſt, his pen muſt doo the ſame.
His paper hath no liberty, his pen may not diſplay,
That which his Muſe in learned ſtile, is now forbid to ſay.
His auditors who willingly, his lectures did frequent,
By publike charge they muſt abſtaine in feare of puniſhment.
Till mighty Ioue which raiſed vp, this bow, this branch, this tree,
Sent ſiluer
••
wes, and chriſtall ſpringes, his comfort for to bee.
By whom this branch did blow againe with bloomes that were moſt bright,
With
••
led pen and reaſons rule, hee put his foes to flight.
The combat was proclaimed on hye: olde Rumus muſt begin,
In liftes his manhood for to try, his foes b
•
e entred in.
Not one nor twaine, but many foes, aſſembled were togeather,
To lanche the barke into y• waues, againſt the ſtormes & wealthe
••
Olde Ramus hée whoſe worthy wit, whoſe force to few was knowne,
Ariueth in porte, but in the ſeas, his foes bee ouerthrowen.
And they which made this fire for to conſume this floriſhing trée,
Through heate of kindled coales, them ſelues to aſhes waſted bee.
The pit with Pretus wife did dig, Belerephon to intray,
As pleaſed the fates to winde their clew, returnd to her miſhap.
Euen ſo Don Phoebus dained at laſt, his glittering beames to ſhow,
Erpulſing Winters hoary head, with boyſterous-windes that blow,
And Ramus gates which earſt were lockt,
•
ee now vnbard againe,
Frée paſſage is permitted there, where bondage did remaine.
The learned route frequented him, the Muſes did him fauor,
The graces ſought by gracious meanes,
•
or to requite his labor.
The bowes did flouriſhing fruitfully, while ſommer did remaine,
When ſeaſon came hee yeelded fruit, and France did reape the gaine.
And eft olde Ramus ſayd: come, come, come learne if that you will,
I haue the key that doth vnfolde, and openeth vnto ſkill.
Grammarians, come and learne I pray: come Re
•
ors come (quoth hée)
In Logickes art I will you teache, ſo ſhall you perfite bee.
Oh happy place, oh ioyfull man, which haſt ſuch ware in ſight,
Twiſe happy France, if France had knowē, to vſe thy fruites aright
Oh bleſſed man whoſe liſtning eare, might heare thy dubled voyce,
What cauſe had they which were thy freends, of thee for to reioyce.
Thus while the ſkyes were cleare, while calme did beare the ſway,
Olde Ramus wan his fame and praiſe, which ſhall remaine for aye.
And pend his frute in volumes great, which all the learned know,
The g
•
ine they reape, which taſte his frute, the paine hee did beſtow
What cauſe haue they that ſtudients bée, and taſte his frutes aright?
For him and his to yeeld great praiſe, vnto the Lorde of might.
But as they haue cauſe to reioyce, ſo may they weepe and waile,
Though d
•
lefull d
••
pes, & trickling tea
•
es, his cauſe will not auaile.
Waile, w
•
ile, & w
••
pe they may: for why the tempeſt raiſed on hye,
When foes did frowne then winde did wreſt, & frute did ſcattered lye
The tree was digged vp by the roote, the branch was lopped low,
And France diſdayned at the frute, which on this tree did grow.
When hundreds which profeſſed the Lord, with hart, with déed, with word
With theſe was Ramus put to death, & m
•
rdred with y• ſword,
When noble péeres and Gentilmen: when men of martiall might,
By bloody hands and
•
inty harts, (alas I rue that wight:
Partaker of ſuch miſery) by thoſe of Tigers traine,
Whom pittie neuer ſeemde to mooue, for Chriſt his cauſe were ſlain.
Then Ramus hée, that Lampe of light, of learning in our daies,
Did ende his life, and purchaſt fame, which ſhall remaine alwaies.
Whoſe death although his foes did wiſh: which haue therto conſented,
Yet all the world no doubt the loſſe, of him haue long lamented.
In Chriſt hee liued, in Chriſt hée died, with Chriſt hée doth inioy,
A place no doubt for which hée died, which nothing can anoy.
As then his life deſerued fame, his death deſerueth more,
Then ceaſe the loſſe of ſuch a life, yee Muſes to deplore.
And graunt to him his guerdon due, which all his déedes doo merit,
I meane within your Courts of fame, his méede hée may inherit.
Vt voce ſic vultu ac vita.
An Epitaph vpon the death of P. Starling,
Somtime Schoolemaiſter of Bury Schoole.
CEaſe ſighing now, and thinke no more of care,
Goe griſly ghoſt, goe tell thy heauy hap:
Come dolefull Dames, caſt of theſe weedes you ware,
Reioyce with mee, which lye in ioyfull lap:
Where ioy it ſelfe, longe ſince did keepe and dwell.
Ceaſe from your plaints, and harke what newes I tell.
The prety birde, which you haue foſtered longe,
Which buylt her neaſt, within the Iuory tree:
Which did delight your eares with ſugred ſong,
Though from her kinde, thoſe notes diſſending bee▪
Hath now of late, built vp her neaſt on hye,
And ſunge her ſonge, within the lofty ſkye.
For while hée ſerued, with ſheeld of learned lore,
And wan ſuch thinges as furniſhed his neſt:
Iudge you ye Dames, which knew this bird before,
Might not hee well compare him with the beſt:
In learnings lap, and vertues brants br
•
d hee,
Oh happy wight, what gifte could better bée.
And euery day, vpon Parnaſſus hill,
Hee tought his young, moſt ſweetly to recorde
•
His pleaſant tune, eche vacant place did fill,
His ioyfull notes did pleaſe the liuing Lorde:
A conſtant hart, in him was truly tryed,
Thus Starling liued, thus Starling lately died.
And in the clowdes hée doth poſſeſſe his place,
When as the Dames, his fatall clew had ſpun:
Vntimely death did win him in his race,
And ſtopt the ſteps, which hee did thinke to run:
Yet ſith in heauen, hée doth inioy his bliſſe,
Hée liueth in place, where perfit pleaſure is.
Vt voce ſic vultu ac vita.
An Epitaph on the death of M.
Sharpe, of Trinity Colledge
in Cambridge.
IF wailyng would preuaile, if we would vaunt at will,
Or if th
•
faries three, were linked all in one:
To helpe them for to mone, whoſe greefe haue baniſht ſkill,
Then happy wee the caſe, of him which made this mone.
But ſith the penūue hart, ma
•
linger where it lye,
And ſith the dolefull doome
•
will not releaſe the hue:
While that I
•
eade my life, I will not ceaſe to cry,
And waile with them which ſay, my owne good Sharpe adue.
And waile with them which ſay, my owne good Sharpe adew,
Adew farewell, adew vnto thy clampe of clay:
Whom when thy breath forſooke, to that which ſhould inſew,
A proo
•
e o
••
eruing life moſt glorious for aye,
No panges which wicked feare, could breake thy hart in ſunder,
But
••
edfaſt in thy truſt, Chriſt Ieſus was thy ſtocke:
To whom in all thy woe (which cauſed the wicked wonder,)
Thou only caleſt for ayde, to him which was thy rocke.
Thou only calleſt to him for ayde, which was thy rocke,
To whom thou yeeldeſt life, hoping for ſweeter gaine:
Whole vſe is not diſceite, the faithfull for to mocke,
Rewarding iuſt with life, the wicked with their paine.
The fooliſh liue in ſinne, the wicked aſketh woe,
Their woe is burning f
•
er, whoſe flame ſhall euer laſt,
Then happy maiſt thou bee which paſſed thy time ſo:
Whom tempeſtes could not ſhake, nor billowes make agaſt,
Whom tempeſtes could not ſhake, nor billowes make agaſt,
Such was thy faithfull truſt, ſuch was thy truſty faith:
That what ſoeuer affliction his ſilly corpes did taſte,
Lord Ieſus, come, aſſiſt mee, yet often times hee ſayth:
And yeelded vp the ghoſt, to him which framed all,
When as few
〈◊〉
were run, ſuch was his fatall lot:
And after
••••
full ſtudy, this to him did befall,
Who for his life once loſt, a double life hath got.
Who for his life once loſt, a double life hath got,
The
〈…〉
hawty ſkyes, hsi ſpirit doth inioy:
The other here in fame, the which nothing can ſpot,
Which Momus can not breake, nor Zoylus deſtroy.
Then ſith it hapneth ſo, and ſith our Sharpe d
•
th
•
iue,
And ſith hee doth enioy, a life which laſt for aye:
Great cauſe haue wee, great praiſe, to mighty Ioue to giue,
And to our Sharpe farewell, ten thouſand times to ſay.
This Epitaph before of Maiſter Sharpe, hee made in ſuch
greefe of minde, that hee had ſmall or no regard to the
meaſure of the Verſe. The poore Knight therfore deſireth
pardon.
Foure of the poore Knights complaints
made as hee hath declared, in great greefe
of harte, applyed to ſundry theames.
The fyrſt complaynt.
〈…〉
haue I wept alone, for ſorrow and for care,
〈…〉
hath long been plunged in paine, gréefe, and diſtreſſe:
〈…〉
yee fatall Dames, and helpe for to declare,
〈…〉
waile with mee which weepe, the fate of my ſucceſſe,
〈…〉
Fortunes crooked chance, hath broke my dolefull hart,
〈…〉
it ſelfe hath ſworne, to worke my greefe and ſmart:
〈…〉
that heauy hap, which all men ought to weepe,
〈…〉
ſoule is priſoner ſtill, and care my hart doth keepe.
And yet any greefe finde no auayle,
I ſulke in ſeas without a ſayle:
I
〈◊〉
about with euery winde,
My he li
•
e is an vnquiet minde.
A wofull fate.
No loue nor louers lawes, hath caught my hart in ſnare,
No want of worldly wealth, hath bred ſo great anoy:
No loſſe of Fortunes gifte, hath clad my hart with care,
No feare of dinting death, hath baniſht perfite ioy:
No frowning force of foes, which doth my life inuade,
Nor want of worthy blood, this heauy hart hath made:
Tis none of theſe I vow, nor none of theſe ſhall bee,
Which haue increaſt my woe, and baniſht ioyfull glee.
But that which hath renewde my mone,
It ſtickes far nearer to the bone.
Whoſe gripes of greefs, will make mee
•
ry,
With ſorrowing ſighes till that I dye. Alas the while.
So ſhall I quickly fade, and periſh quite away,
Which now I gladly wiſh, and oft haue wiſht before:
That this my brittle ſleſh might periſh vnto clay,
And that within the ground, my bones might lys in ſtore:
How happy ſhould I bee, how ioyfull man were I,
Oh gentle death come ſtrike, that I may fade and die:
For life is preſent death, and death would bring mee life,
And ende my wofull dayes, which I conſume in ſtrife.
Graunt this good liuing Lorde I pray,
That as I wiſh, euen ſo I may:
Ende this my life, and ende my care,
That in this place I may haue ſhare.
Graunt this O Lord.
The ſeconde complaynt, which plainly
bewray the matter of the firſt.
Onus aetna grauius.
IF Oſſa Mount, and Pelion hill, were caſt vpon my backe to beare,
And I as ſtrong as Atlas hy, which in his badge y• ſtares did weare
Or if my taſke by payne of death, alotted were to cleane the ſea,
Or if to paſſe by Stigian flood, to vew wheras the bleſſed bee.
I thinke of truth, and as I geſſe,
So ſhall the truth it ſelfe come try:
Not halfe the paine I ſhould ſuſtaine,
Come gentle death and let mee dye.
For ſince I left my ſtaggering ſtate, and did the crable milde
〈◊〉
••
And ſince to ſucke my mothers breſt, I did my minde therfro
〈◊〉
Yea ſince y• time by mothers deth, I ſpent my dayes in care &
〈◊〉
And ſince that time I thanke my God: of other frends I found rele
•••
As now I doo and longe haue done,
Yet this by proofe I plainly ſee:
I finde it ſo, no care and woe,
Like to a troubled minde can bee.
A troubled minde is cauſe of payne, a quiet ſpirit reuiueth ioyes,
A quiet minde increaſeth myrth, a troubled minde theſame did royes
Then if y•
Ioue would kil the cauſe, y• care no doubt ſhould fade away,
And yet my care cannot depart, while y• the troubled minde doth ſtay.
And thus I dare in bréefe conclude,
No
•
arking care that euer I finde:
Vpon the mould, I dare bee bolde,
Is like vnto the troubled minde.
The thirde complaint.
Sit erracti medicina confeſsio.
AH, ah, my hart, my hart, my hart, my hart.
What pincking panges? What danger doost thou féele?
I ſee my freends, haue lefte to take my part,
My hart, my hart, can not my gréefe conceale:
My pen hath ſworne, my matter to re
•
eale,
Perforce my hands, theſe ſcribled lines did write,
And wished ſome meanes my treſpaſſe to requite.
What ſhall I ſay? what ſhall I take in hand?
My minde is dull, my braine is battered
•
ore,
My eyes bée dimme, where trickling teares doo ſtand:
My ſoule hath ſobbed, my hart can ſighe no more,
But now beholde, your mercy and implore:
I craue for grace, and pardon
〈◊〉
my cr
•
me,
Condempe mee not, before my a
••
otted time.
But try agayne, and ſée what frutes ſhall flow,
No labor loſt, no trauell ſhall bee ſpent:
Bee willing then, ſome mercy for to ſhow,
To him that hath, a minde for to repent:
〈◊〉
•
ot of the frutes, of ſuch a good intent,
And when the like, you ſhall in mee detect,
Then ſhake your hand, and pay mée for neglect.
And this is all, and more then all I thinke,
Yea this is all I purposed to wright:
Then ſaue the ſhip, which voyde of hope muſt ſinke,
And lye a pray, vnto the Ocians might:
The day in ſighes, in teares I ſpend the night,
Then ſtay my teares, releaſe mée of my paine,
I haue confeſt, and doo recant againe.
The fourth complaint of this, and of the
thirde I can ſet no true cauſe of wrighting,
for the poore Knight hath denyed to tell it.
Pyrauſtae interitus.
AS doth the Fly, whoſe life the fier maintaines,
Giue vp the breath, when fier is take her fro:
Or as the worme, within the ſnow remaines,
Yeeld vp the life, when ſhee from ſnow doth go:
Alas the while, ſo happeneth it to mée,
For heat and colde, haue been my great delight:
What greefe is this, that I muſt diſtant bée?
From out the place, wherof I haue my might?
Come denting death, come ſtrike the ende of ſtrife,
Pyrauſtae ſhee, is weary of her life.
Farewell to thée, which gaue mée breath and blood,
Farewell to thee, which did maintaine my ſtate:
Farewell to thée, in whom my pleaſure ſtood,
Farewell to thee, which diddeſt prolonge my fate:
For why? the ſnow is melted with the ſunne,
And flaſhing fier, is quenched out with raine:
The fate
•
haue ſayd, ſhort bee thy daies to runne,
From whence thou cameſt▪ thou ſhalt returne againe:
Come
•
enting death, come ſtrike the ende of ſtrife,
Pyrauſtae ſhee, is weary of her life.
So goeth my time, ſo runs my fickle race,
And all is gone, nothing is left in ſtore:
Imbrued with teares, I muſt bewayle my caſe,
I wiſh for death, what ſhould I looke for more:
For ſith the aydes which did prolonge my ſtrength,
Bee
•
led from feelde, and baniſhed from c
•
uſt,
With willing hart, I yéeld to him at length:
Which come to call whom I deſired moſt.
Come denting death, come ſtrike the ende of ſtrife,
Pyrauſta ſhee, is weary of her life.
More of the poore Knights Poſies, of ſundy matters, and
writ to ſundry perſons.
A letter to William Th. who ſending to
him for a looking glaſſe, writ vnto him this
letter, with the Glaſſe following.
The Letter.
TO blame my ſelfe, or pinch mee to the quicke,
To rub the bare, which faine would ranckled lye:
To raiſe the mier, within the water thicke,
Is all in vaine, experience plainly t
•
ice:
To warne of that, as Horace did in Rome:
Erhorting thee from that which I ſhould vſe,
That guerdon dew, vnto my ſhare would come:
Which for his hier, Se
•
la could not refuſe,
Erhorting thoſe, which then in Rome did ſtay,
To ſober life: when hee a Ruffian was:
Loe euery one, with ready tounge would ſay,
Scilla, Scilla, ſeeke to amend thy caſe:
Amend thy life: a good e
•
ample giue,
So wee by thee ſhall better know to liue.
So wée by thee, ſhall better know to liue,
Whoſe life wee ſeeke, whoſe wordes wee doe not way▪
If I to thee, the like to this ſhould giue,
And thou my hier, with like accompt ſhould pay:
Then were I well rewarded for my paine,
And had enough alotted to my taſke:
But this I know, thou neuer wilt diſdaine,
For to performe, the ſum that I ſhall aſke:
Then ſith I truſt, to tryall of good will,
Peruſe the ſame, which I to thee haue ſent:
Which would I could delate with ſo much ſkill:
As hee which firſt moued mee to this intent,
But here, to him, to thee, to his, to thine:
And as to thee, euen ſo to mee and mine.
And as to thee, euen ſo to mee and mine,
For thee I doo, accompt among my owne:
And as my owne, from thee ſhall not decline,
But ioyne in one, whoſe ſéedes in one bée ſowne:
So read thou this, which cummeth from thy frend,
But as thou reade, remember my good will:
And way this well, which I for thee haue pende,
As for a glaſſe, to ſtand before thee ſtill:
And when thou veweſt, thy formall face therin,
Though I bée gon, and happely out of minde.
Thus for to muſe, on mee thou maiſt begin,
God reſt thy ſoule, my friend which wert ſo kinde:
And after if thou canſt perceiue thy ſpot,
To looke in this, my Glaſſe diſdaine thou not.
The looking glaſſe of the poore
Knight, to W. Th.
IN him which made and framed all, repoſe thy hope and truſt,
Who as hee made thée out of clay, can turne thee vnto duſt.
In him I ſay which guideth all, the Heauen, the earth the ſea,
〈…〉
thy hope, in whom I hope, eternall life to ſee,
〈…〉
euery thing, yet neuer ſeene of any,
So is hee preſent euery where, as hath appeard to many.
Yet hee which clears his hart from ſpot, an
•
purge his minde from yt
Hee ſeeth the Lord: hee knoweth the Lord.
•
ee doth the Lord his will.
In him to put thy confidence, as loyall duty charge.
Forget not for to put thy hope, in him (which holds the large
And lofty ſky within his hand) do not his huſt neglect,
For godly duty at thy hands, hee ſolely doth expect.
Which if thou dooſt hee will thee bleſſe, yea in moſt bounden ſort,
And bring thy ſhip through wallowing waues, vnto ye happy port.
Then after duty done to God: (ſweet VVilliam) keepe in minde,
The ſtraight and lincked knot of loue, which natiue ſoyle doth binde.
To whom thou oweſt thy life, thy land, toy body and thy blood,
For whom thou oughteſt to ſpend theſame, if it may doo her good.
For what can bee more neare the ſkin, or ſticke more nere the bone,
Then ioy with parents, when they ioy, & mone when as they mone.
And loe thy cuntry doth maintaine, both thee and all thy kin,
Thy life their land, thy ioy their hope, and all that is therin.
Herin thou oughteſt not to forget, thy parents of good fame,
And ſeeke for them, as they for thee, for to increaſe theſame.
Doo duty to thy elder Sire, and loue thy yonger brother,
And holde vpright the falling ſtaffe, of thy gray hedded mother.
Whoſe hoary haire doth ſmile for ioy, whoſe fainting feete renew,
The running race with liuely blood, with freſh and pleaſant hew.
And thou in whom her hart doth reſt, do walke that wiſhed way,
Oh ioyfull ſtockes (ſaith ſhee) whoſe imp
•
s doth keepe you from decay
Now learne (my Will) thy duty done, to God and parents then,
To ſhun thoſe wicked waies, which ought to bee diſpyſed of men.
Firſt fly from pride, whoſe puffed cheeks, wil bring thy hart to pain,
Eſchue the Pope, with all his pelfe, for why hee is but vaine.
Whoſe bellowing Bulles in Baſan bred, haue rored againſt the light,
And cleane appoſed their wicked waies, againſt the Lord of might.
Whoſe great confuſion and decay, no doubt is neare at hand,
Although hee clime the ſuprem head, of euery chriſtian land,
In riot run no rechles race, regard thy good eſtate,
And way thy welth, for riot hath acquainted many a mate.
Where riot rules within the ſh
•
p, there Whoredome holds an Ore,
And Sloth doth holde the ſickle belme, while Enuy row to ſhore.
There Cruelty doth turne the ſayle, and theſe the Ancor caſt,
There Gluttony ſleepes vnder hatch: and Sicknes comes in faſt.
Blaſpheming of the liuing Lord, with Riot ſhakes his hand,
And falſe attempts with Flattery, doo ſinke the ſhip in ſand.
When Riot lieth, and all his mates, the ſea doth make her pray,
And ſwalloweth quick thoſe paſſengers, which walke that wery way
In youth my freend, while yeeres be green, beware of Circes charme
And ſtop thy cares whē
Sirens ſing, whoſe noates pretendeth harme.
For why the baite which fiſhers vſe, were of to great a price,
If that the pleaſant taſte therof, the fiſh did not intice.
And ſubtill foulers would accompt, their labor loſt in vaine,
If that the draught of ſimple birdes, did not requite their paine.
Bee not to bolde to trip thy ſelfe in Creſſids ſubtill traine,
For hee that reche his foot ſo far, can not returne againe.
And wanton wordes may rule thy will, and turne thy wit away,
And wiſe men often bee to ſeeke, in that they ought to ſay.
This is the glaſſe, the which I ſent, thy cumly face to vew,
Till other glaſſes may be bought: and thus my freend adew.
❧A letter to Richard Ra. lyinge
in his death bed.
Memento mori.
OH call to minde, forget not thy eſtate,
And ponder well, within thy muſing minde:
Wheron thou oughteſt alwaies to medita
•
e,
That man is man, by property and kinde.
Yea man is man, experience this doth try,
Who flouriſheth here, but yet at laſt ſhall dye.
For fleſh is fraile, and framde of fickle clay,
Yea life is ſhort, and breath is quickly gone:
Of whom the wormes doo ſeeke to make a pray,
When thou art dead, and couered vnder ſtone.
And to the wombe, where thou at firſt did lye,
Thou ſhalt returne, prepare thy ſelfe to dye.
Remember death, and thinke vpon the end,
Bequeath thy ſoule, vnto the Lord of might:
And crau
•
of him, ſuch mercy for to ſend,
That when thou dieſt, thou maiſt inioy the light:
Which few attaine aboue the clowdy ſkye,
which to attaine, prepare thy ſelfe to dy.
And faint not (Dicke) though denting death be nere,
For why thou haſt, run forth a roiall race:
Pull vp thy ſtrength, take hart and bée of chere,
And
〈◊〉
thy minde, vpon that bleſſed place:
Whoſe ioyfull ioyes, were neuer ſeene of ey
•
,
Nor thought of hart: prepare thy ſelfe to dy.
For euery man which liued the age before,
Could not reſiſt, the denting ſtroke of death:
The ſtrongeſt men, whoſe fame is kept in ſtore,
Vnto the fates, did yéeld their liuely breath:
Olde Adam hée, to this could not deny,
For why hee knew, that hee was
•
orne to dy.
The former world, to this gaue their conſent,
Saturnus liued, and after died againe:
Yea all his ſtocke, with this was well content,
When death doth come, none can reſiſt his paine:
Death play thy part, and life away ſhall fly,
All muſt confeſſe, that they are borne to dy.
The ſtately ſtrea
•
s, and Turrets all of Troy,
Be now caſt downe, and flatling lie on ground:
All Pryams ſtocke, the Grecians did deſtroy,
Rare was his chance, and ſeldome to bee found:
Alas what tho, the Turrets all on hie,
Yeelded to duſt, and Troians all did
•
ie.
•
neas
〈◊〉
, Ant
•
nor did theſame,
〈…〉
purſued, with all his lordly route:
〈…〉
ſome other die in flame,
〈…〉
hath ſeerched other
•
ut:
For when as death, this preſent life defie,
Prepare thy felfe, for then neede ſhalt thou dy.
Dy (oh my Dicke) why ſhouldſt thou gru
•
th to die,
What wouldeſt thou wiſh, to liue in this animy?
What is there loſt, that ſhould delight thy eye?
What is there now, that ſhould augment thy ioy?
Then farewell life, and welcome death ſay I,
Come, death, come, come, let vs prepare to dy.
Ah welcome death? alas what haue I ſayd?
Nay welcome life, and farewell death againe:
But oh my fréend, I pray be not diſmaide,
For where wee liue, in death wee do remaine.
Then farewell death: the life it is why,
Which to obtaine, let vs prepare to dye.
To dy I meane, out of this deadly life,
To dy I meane, out of this care and wo:
To dy I meane, out of this wofull ſtrife,
To dy I meane, and free my ſelfe from fo:
To liue to life, and dy to ſin meane I,
To liue in ioy, let vs prepare to dy.
To liue in ioy, to liue in heauenly bliſſe,
To liue in ioy, in mirth ſolace and glée:
To liue in ioy, who would not dy for this,
To liue in ioy, where all the Angels bee:
To liue in ioy, which ioy none can
•
eſcry,
To liue in ioy, let vs prepare to dy.
Prepare to dy, out of this world of woe,
Prepare to dy, out of this ſea of ſin:
Prepare to dy, to hauty heauen to goe,
Prepare to dy, the heauenly life to win:
Prepare to dy, to liue within the ſky,
Prepare to dy, I ſay prepare to dy.
And though the paines, and pinching pangs of death,
Perhaps do ſtinge thy ſilly naked hart:
Bée not diſmaid, feare not to yeeld thy breath,
To him which can aſwage thy ſwelling ſmarte
And dreadfull dumpes: for of this minde am I,
With Chriſt to liue, feare not with Chriſt to dy.
And this thou knoweſt, that worldly life is vaine,
And though thou liue, perhaps yet forty yeares:
Confeſſe good Dicke, diſſemble not nor fain
•
,
Shall not thoſe yeares, be garniſhed all with cares?
And yet at laſt, all this by proofe wee try,
When death doth call, then Dicke perforce muſt dy.
Perhaps thy freends, do ſit in high renowne,
And thou by them, maiſt haue of good eſtate:
Perhaps thou wiſh to weare a Counſuls gowne,
Or els to ſpend, thy life with ioyfull mate:
Wherto beeing raiſed, and to this ſtate ſo hye,
Alas (thou ſayeſt) twould greene thee for to dye.
I know thy minde, thy freends oft haue I ſeene,
Their good eſtate I muſt confeſſe no doubt:
I know their care, which vpon thee haue beene,
I know the means, which parents haue ſought out:
I know thy loue (oh Dicke) I doo not lye,
But for all this, prepare thy ſelfe to dye.
For why thou knoweſt, the ſoule it is moſt deare,
To bee preferd, before the body vilde:
Then if thou ſeekeſt for pleaſures that be here,
To beautifie that part which is defilde:
Seeke, ſeeke, and ſearch: thy dilligence apply,
•
adorne thy ſoule: prepare thy ſelfe to dye.
And thus I end, but one thing by the way,
If God graunt life and longer dayes to thee:
Thanke him therfore, to whom ceaſe not to pray,
Both for thy ſelfe, and then thinke vpon mée:
Who for thy ſake to mighty Ioue will cry,
To ayde vs both, but yet prepare to dy.
And thus I ende, as erſt I did begin,
Prepare to dy, for why thy fleſh is fraile:
And call to minde, that Hauen to enter in,
Whoſe ioyfull bankes, in winter will preuaile:
In winters raine, when windes do blow in ſay,
Coch in this hauen, ſo ſhalt thou neuer dy.
The poore Knight his Paramour, written to M. Iohn
Com. Phiſition, and his ſinguler Mecaenas.
Nudior Leberide.
A Parramour I haue, you ſhall not know her name,
Which neuer ceaſt to follow mée, ſince I to Cambridge came.
Shee loues mee paſſing well, I can not her abide,
And yet perforce, doo what I can, ſhée hangeth on my ſide.
Shée coucheth euery night, next to my tender breſt,
And many times ſhée ſaith: what Will? and lets mée take no reſt.
Among my deadly foes, my body ſhee doth kéepe,
Shee kéepes the key of all my cheſtes, both when I wake and ſleepe.
I bring nothing to ende, nothing I doo begin,
But ere I goe about the ſame, I haue her minde therin.
For this her gentilneſſe, I can not bée content,
But wailing of my heauy hap, alas I doo lament.
And vnto you I ſend, as to my only ſtay,
To aſke that Phiſikes Art, may driue my Paramour away.
To Thomas Ro. the poore Knight ſendeth greeting.
Aſinum tondes.
THou wailes thy heauy hap & chance, thy ſtate thou didſt lament,
Thou ſéekſt y• which thou canſt not finde: alas bée thou contente.
And builde no more vpon the ſande, the flint no iuce will giue,
And from the Well thou canſt not fetch, thy water in a Ciue,
To pull a balde man by the crowne, what vantage canſt thou ſée,
To teache the Iron ſwim aboue, great wonders theſe ſhould bée.
To ſow thy ſeede among the Rockes, or plow the ſand for ſalte,
The one declares a vaine attempt, the other ſhoweth a fault.
But if thy minde haue doted erſt, and Glaucus change haue made,
I wiſh thee well for to be wiſe, and learne a better trade.
For as Vliſſes profered Wine, to Poliphe
•
us ſtout,
And when as Wine had won his wit, hee bored his eyes out.
So ſhee by thee if thou continue, in this thy dotinge minde,
Thou ſhalt preuaile as ſome time hée, which would correct the winds
Bee ruled then and take thy reſt, and marke my wordes againe,
For if thou ſtriue againſt the ſtreme, thou beateſt the clouds in vayn
To his freend Iohn R.
YF that two euilles, bée offered to thy choice,
Then take the leaſt, as reaſon will thee guide:
And for thy chance, thou maiſt with hart reioyce,
That of them twaine, the leaſt did the betide:
But this I ſay, and councell thée beware,
Which long time ſince, was ſnarled in the ſnare.
For when I did the ſmoky houſe abſtaine,
Leaſt that my eyes, with wattery ſtreme
•
ſhould flow:
Beholde I chanced, in cottage to remaine,
Where flaming fire, did bring the Rafters low:
The ſtone, the tyle, and all was burnd with flame,
And I alas, conſumed with the ſame.
Much like to him, which in another caſe,
Eſchued the raine, which from the ſkye did fall:
With ſpeedy flight, hée haſtened in his race,
Till hee in pit was drowned horſe and all:
Wherby I ſee, I may conclude no doubt,
The leaſt of euils, is to bée choſen out.
To his freend Bartholmew Ien. Eſquilla non naſcitur Roſa,
IF Roſes ſpronge of white thorne bowes, & grapes on thiſtles grew
Or
〈◊〉
from Okes, wher Acorns hée, good Apples did inſew,
Then wine and frute, ſhould not bée ſkant, our ſences plainly tell
And euery ſhade and pleaſant groue, ſhould yeeld a fragrant ſmell.
But theſe bee wonders for to ſee, wee haue not heard of ſuch,
And Nature in this ſodaine thance, ſhould change her ſelfe too much.
But yet more ſtrang, mee thinke it is, both to my minde and eyes,
That from the wet and watry ſeas, great flames of ſfire ſhould riſe.
Then way my freend, not what I ſpeke, but what I meane hereby,
What dooſt thou meane to heate thy ſelfe, in fréeſing froſt taly.
Can fire giue forth an yt
•
e colde, which doth pertaine to froſt,
Or els to yéelde a burning flame, haue Ice their nature loſt?
No, no, my freend, infected ſalues, can not make whole thy wound,
Then walke out on the fickle floods, in ſteede of ſureſt ground.
For why with thē which bée not ſound, thou ſhalt corrupt thy minde,
And in the dry, vnſaudry chip, no ſauor thou canſt finde.
Then way my wordes with reaſons rule, and prooue my ſaying true
The Thiſtle can not beare a Grape, and thus my fréend ad
•
w.
To Abraham Iohnſon. Nuſquam tuta fides.
IF Auncient writs doo beare recorde, and ſeeme the truth to tell,
No faithfull fréendſhip as I finde, in mortall men doo dwell.
For why? the Father ſley the Sonne, the Sonne the Father kill,
Vpon the Sonne, and father eke, the mother worke her will.
The Brother with the Siſter iar, the daughters bane prepare,
To ſee the Mothers finall end, and pay the fathers ſhare.
The kinſmen ſtands aloofe and ſée, the one not truſt the other,
The naybors as the kinſmen all, haue baniſht fayth together.
The foe ſees this, and gins to ſmile, for ſtrife doth like him beſt,
The rauening Coocko layes her egges, within the Sparrowes neſt.
And euery thing runnes out of courſe our time is almoſt ſpent,
The night is almoſt néere at hand, tis time for to repent.
Wherefore my freend, counsell thy fréend, as I ſhall counſell thée,
For to prepare againſt that time, when direfull dome ſhal bée.
The poore Knight his loue, to Rich. Ron.
A Lady bright I loue, which in this
•
le doth dwell,
I loue and not alone, for many loue her well:
Her manſion where ſhee kéepes, few doo attaine to ſée,
About her place faire gates, to enter thrée times three.
Yet few doo enter in, ſhee calles, but few doo come,
Shee becks to mee and ſaith, ſhee will prepare a rome.
And when I thinke to goe, with freſh aſſalte to proue,
I enter in and ſearch: but cannot finds my loue.
And yet I ſée a far, where other men doo play,
And with the price I bid, to beare my loue a way.
Then tell to mee my freend, and writ to mee thy minde,
For louers lawes thou knoweſt, how I my loue may finde.
And that your learning might abſolue mee of this doubt,
Within theſe written lines, her name is quoted out.
To his freend Roger Phil, Metuit cautus.
THe litle lad which once hath felt the fire,
Eſchueth the ſame, and feares the flittering flame:
The ſilly Mouſe which hath eſcaped the wire,
Will long beware for touching of the ſame.
The ſimple Birde, which thinkes not of the Grin,
Is tooke in ſnare, and made the foulers pray:
The fooliſh fiſh, that ſwims with floting fin,
Fulfilles the wiſh, of him which baite doth lay.
Then well I ſée, that which I haue not knowne,
Experience makes, the diſarde to beware:
And they which know, not where the Hempe is ſowne,
Vnto their paine, bee ſnarled in the ſnare.
Then would that I had knowne longe time before,
That which with price, I haue moſt dearely bought:
But now I hope, to faile therin no more,
But yet I haue, the duty that I ſought.
For if I had, béen warned by my freend,
I might haue feared, the price wherof I feele:
But when I thought, therof to ſearch the ende,
i dr
•
nke ſo much, it ca
••
ed my head to reele.
Then where thou wiſht, to know my good ſucceſſe,
And why I ceaſe to ſew againe for grace:
Lo here I liue, in meſtfull heauineſſe,
And of my ſute, I leaue a vacant place.
To VVilliam Godf. Frontis nulla fides.
IN Sommer tide, & floriſhing Month, when euery herb was gréene,
And euery bow began to bud, moſt cumly to bée ſeene.
In pleaſant Herbar where I walkte, to recreat my minde,
Beholde I pray, what yll ſucceſſe, I chanced for to finde:
Vnder a ſet of Margerom, which in that place did grow,
For pleaſant ſhade, and fragrant ſmell, when I had couched low.
And Margerom had giuen mée leaue, vnder her winges to reſt,
I thought my ſelfe as neere to Heauen, as is the Egles neſt.
Wheras I had not couched long, but tumbling too and fro,
Behold a Serpent venemous, forth from her Den did goe.
And hiſſing foorth her venomed toung, ſhée ſtonge my breſt moſt ſore,
Which doone, ſhée did returne againe, from whence ſhée came before.
Take héede therfore by my yll lot, take héede therfore ſay I,
For vnder Hony oftentime, doth cankred poiſon lye,
And in that hed of whoſe faire branch, my Poſie I would make,
I muſt confeſſe, though to my paine, I found a ſtinging Snake.
To his freend Robert Dyne.
Vulcanium vinculum.
NO Iron chayn, nor fetter ſtrong, no band which hand could make
As thou alleage, haue halde mee back, my promiſe for to breake.
Nor yet that ielous thought of thine, haue made mée ſlacke and ſlow,
No curious charms haue touched my brayn, y• make mée ſloth to ſhow
He is my minde changed ſo much: my ſtate is not ſo good,
He haue my lippes I vow to thee, once ſypt of Letho flood.
But yet beleeue mee, gentle freend, though I ſo long delay,
And though I breake my coucnant made, my minde doth not decay.
Which oft my letters haue bewraide, which I before haue ſent,
As well the cauſe wherof I ſtay, as of my whole intent.
The curious Artes of Parnas Hill, do aſke a longer race,
And hee which wiſh for Theſpias ſpring, muſt watch for time & ſpace
And hee which once begins to goe, and fainteth with his labor,
The Muſes haue declarde long ſince: to ſhew to him no fauor.
But all his paine is clene forgot, his labor all is loſt,
Loe this it is, which held mee backe, from comming to the coaſt.
But if that God ſhall graunt mee leaue, this Letter is the laſt,
Then looke for mee, and thus adew, from Cambridge in all haſte.
To Maiſter Iobſon.
Qui é nuce nucleum eſſe, vult nucem franget.
TO maſke within the Front of Faire, to wear the Laureat crown
To march with worthy Martial might, to purchaſe high renown.
It is not wonne with cowards hartes: for why ſuch ſlickering fame,
Deſerue ſuch deedes as iuſtly may, demeritall the ſame.
And firſt the labor muſt bee ſpent, before the end inſue,
And hee which ſeekes the ſounding blaſt, no labor muſt eſchue.
For as wee plainly ſee by proofe, that hee which gapes for gaine,
No daungerous death, or dint of ſword, is giuen to diſdaine.
So hee which ſeekes to liue for aye, within the mouth of men,
Will not refuſe the ſtrong conflict, within Leerna Fen.
Had Iaſon left the golden fleece, when hee to Colchos went,
If Aiax in the Troian toyle, at Greece had bin content:
The fleece had beene at Colchos ſtil, Medea had bin true,
And Aiax might haue held his hands, ſuch valiant actes to ſhew.
Had Caeſar ſtayd in Britanny, had Brutus kept his ire,
•
mpey had liued in royall Rome, and Percia kept from fire.
Yea neither hee, nor this nor that, had liued ſo freſh in minde,
But fame did force & pricke them foorth, which came of gentil kinde.
Glaucus, of whom the Poets pen, haue found paſtime to wright,
Feared not the floods to follow her, which was his chéefe delight.
Then marke the end, and way the end, the ende is cauſe of fame,
And hee which hopes to win the end, doth neuer feare the ſame,
To his freend Richard Bently.
BEyond ſea boy, beyond ſea wilt thou wend,
Chriſt ſh
••
lde my birde, and keepe my childe from care:
Before thou goeſt, read this that I ſhall ſend,
And thinke on it when wee a ſunder are:
For when I heard, thy ſhip thou didſt prepare,
To ſulke the ſeas, and forrow foming flood:
(Alas my boy) abſence did make mee feare,
And want of time, did ſtreeke my minde in moode,
But ſith that Ioue, hath ſo eſtéemde it good.
To turne thy minde, and kéepe thée heare a while,
Loe if it rayne, I ſend to thee a hoode:
To kéepe thee dry, and daungers to exyle,
To keepe the dry, leaſt raine thy clothes defile.
Then way it well, which ſhall bee ſayd of mee,
And though perhaps thou doo not like the ſtile:
Of truth I know, the matter fit for thee,
Firſt feare the Lord, which ruleth Heauen and ſea:
And euery thinge that mooueth in the ſame,
Which when thou ſeeſt, let God remembred bee:
And thinke on him, which euery thing did frame,
The ſubiectes here, beholde to thee I name.
For euery thing is too long to reſcite,
The Heauen, the Earth, the Water, and the flame:
The Sunne, the Moone, the day and clowdy night,
Such is his powre, ſuch is force and might.
Which when thou ſeeſt, then thus begin to muſe,
O Lord thou knoweſt, eche thing is in thy ſight:
It is but vayne, my ſinne for to ercuſe,
But graunt mee Lorde, thy graces ſo to vſe.
That to thy praiſe it may redound at laſt,
For without grace eche thing I ſhall abuſe:
Thus thinke my freend, when thou the ſeas art paſt,
Another thing I warne thee of in haſte.
Eche forran lande, hath many a ſubtill ſleyght,
And forrain ſnares, will make thee ſoone agaſt:
Ech ſundry place hath many a ſundry bayt,
Here lurketh one in Dungeon of deceit.
An other there, in ſecret Den doth ly,
The Romish Church for thee will lay great wayte:
But oh my freend, from p
•
lting Papiſtes fly,
Fly, fly from thoſe, kepe not their company,
Auoide thoſe mates, wherof I haue thee tolde,
For ſurely freend, they ſtinge ſo ſecretly:
That if the wound, begin once to be colde,
It is as hard the ſame for to vnfolde:
As to remoue the Pope out of his place,
Truſt not to far, good freend bee not to bolde:
Leaſt you be ſicke, before you know your caſe.
Another thing, beware of in your race:
Beware I ſay, of thoſe which fawne with g
••
le,
Which merily will cheare you in the face:
And ſooth you foorth: with many a wanton ſmile,
And heapes of wordes, they ſticke not to compile.
I néede not name them in more plainer ſort,
Which redieſt bee, at all times to beguile.
Eſchue all ſuch, vnto your owne comfort,
Vnto their tentes, in no wiſe doo reſorte.
But when they beeke, beware leaſt that you bow,
Oh gentill freend, eſchue that filthy ſport:
And ſay your freend, of this hath counſelled you,
Then if thou meane, his counſell to allow.
And thinke on it, when you haue paſt the Sea,
Then ſhall you ſee, and for this perceiue hew:
Thou of hye Ioue, ſhalt alwaies bleſſed bee,
Bleſſed I ſay, ſo will hee comfort thee.
That though thou chance, not to returne again
•
(God ſheeld my childe, and keepe both thee and
〈◊〉
)
Yet ſhall thy ſrule, alofte with him remaine,
And though thou chance, to ſoio
•
ne longe in Spayne:
In Germany, in France, or els in Rome,
Do not forget, that minde for to retaine:
Which erſt thou hadſt, when thou therto hidſt come,
Remember ſtill, the dreadfull day of dome:
Be curteous ſtill, bee ſober, meeke, and wiſe,
And haſten thee vnto thy natiue home:
Ill company, ſee that thou dooſt diſpiſe,
Leaſt that by them, ſome danger ſhould ariſe:
And if thou chance in Venice for to ſtay,
I ſay no more, thou knoweſt what I ſurmiſe,
Vnto my fréend commend mée by the way,
And wiſh him well, to make no more delay:
But to returne when time ſhall him permit,
And this is all, thou knoweſt what more to ſay:
Which vnto Pen, I meane not to commit,
Thou knoweſt my minde, and ſo know I thy wit:
Loe this is all, I geue vnto thy taſke,
And thus farewell, vnto a ſeaſon fit:
Whoſe ſafe returne, of mighty Ioue I aſke.
To Thomas Tur. by the example of Perillus, alluding to
Quod tibi non vis fieri, alterine feceris.
HAd not the cruell bloody kinde, imbrued it ſelfe with blood,
No doute the life of Phallaris, might ſoone haue doone much good.
For why? yll manners did corrupt, and baniſht ciuell kinde,
And gaſping thirſt of humaine blood, defilde a worthy minde.
Whoſe workes be yet this day, to ſee how much hee ſtood in awe,
Of Sages wiſe, whom hée eſtéemde, which did neglect the law.
Of him and of his Tortures great, all voyde of ſparkes of loue,
Who hath not read, and yet once red, whoſe harts doth hée not moue▪
Did not Perillus bloody wretch (whoſe factes my gréefe renew)
From Athens bring the brazen Bull, if Poets workes be trew?
Hoping of him which loued the ſame, for to obtaine the priſe,
Whoſe wordes did ſoone bewray his Art, and vttered his deuiſe.
Oh noble Kinge (quoth hée) beholde, in Athens where I dwell,
Thy fame is ſpred, for whyeche one, thy tyranny doth tell.
The Brute wherof vnto my eare, by chaunce did come of late,
As well of thee as of thy life, and of thy proſperous ſtate.
And by my trade (oh noble Kinge) I vſe to worke in Braſſe,
Loe here a worke, which of good will, I offer to your grace.
The like to it ſince Saturns dayes, was neuer wrought before.
Nor as I thinke by mortall hands, can neuer bee made more.
For loe, the Torture is ſo ſtrange, the torment is ſuch paine,
The like to it you haue not had, nor ſhall not haue againe:
Theſe wordes inflamed his furious hart, which thirſted after blood,
And to Perillus furiouſly, hée ſpake with raging moode.
And ſayd, Perillus ſhew the vſe, ceaſe not for to declare,
And I will well reward thy paines, Perillus doo not feare.
The Bull is hollow (noble Prince) a man therin may lye,
Aſlender flame beeing made with out, hée ſhall conſume and fry.
His ſpéech ſhall turne like to the noyſe, that liuing bulles doth make,
And for a terror to thy foes, I made it for thy ſake,
Poſſeſſe the ſame: which done, the Kinge his gloſing wordes to try,
Firſt put Perillus in the Bull, where hée him ſelfe did die.
And after him that curſed Bull, to many brought great ſmart,
And Phallaris did ende his life, within Perillus Art.
By whoſe cruell end, I doo perceiue that counſell wiſe to bée,
Doo thou no worſe to other men, then they all doo to thee.
To R. Baker, Virtus poſt funera viuit.
TO tell of them whoſe famous factes, haue won no ſmall renowne,
Eyther with glittering blade in féelde, or els with Conſuls gowne.
Aſwell within our natiue lande, or els in forrain ſoyle,
My Muſe doth lothe that labour great, it were to great a toyle.
But yet ſhée daines at your requeſt, for to diſcribe at large,
And as the ſeaſon will permit, her duty to diſcharge.
In Vertues race guide well thy ſteps, in her put thy delight,
For Fame doth fauor Vertues houſe, frō whence ſhée takes her ſlight.
Whoſe ſounding Tromp doth warne all thoſe, which ſeeke renowned ſtate,
To arme themſelues in Vertues tent, & fight in Iuſtice gate.
Who often ſayth, chéere on my harts, your manhood ſéeke to try,
I will preſerue your déedes on liue, your fame ſhall neuer dy.
Alcides hee, whoſe heauy hand, the Centaures doo lament,
Whoſe direfull ſtrokes the Stigian Knights, with pitteous plaints repent.
Was mooued to force, by flickering fame, his faithfull fréend to fetch
Whoſe lingering liues, y• furies ferce, on whirling whéele did ſtretch
With pricke of praiſe, King Peleus deare, did ſaile frō gallant Greece
And conquered the golden Ram, and ſtole away the Fléexe.
When praiſe did pricke the panting hart, of Pallamedes Prince,
Hée rygde his ſhippes, and hoyſed ſayle, the Troians to conuince.
If Pirhus father had not ceaſt, the handmaydes wéede to weare,
Then Homers hand had ſtayd his quill, which doth his actes declare.
Come ſubtill Sinon tell the truth, what did thy hart inflame,
To hazard health with forrain foes, but hope of future fame.
Iyeurgus leaue thy exilde life, come home, come home againe,
Nay, nay, I meane while life doth laſt, an exile to remaine.
For though I dy a baniſht wight, yet this I know moſt ſure,
That all the world ſhall pen my praiſe, while Aeſtas yeares indure.
So fancy fed the fainting mindes, of them which liued before,
That they in hope of perfit praiſe, Dame Vertue did adore.
For nothing was eſtemed ſo much, as for to leaue behinde,
To thoſe which ſhould ſucceede his roome, as was a vertuous minde.
For praiſe did tickle toward wits, and made them ſearch the way,
To purchaſe fame, which ſhould remaine, when they were ſhrind in clay.
This cauſed Alexander ſtout, to take the war in hand,
In hope to conquer all the world, as well by ſea as land.
And Tully with his filed toung, did ſeeke to purchaſe fame,
And all the Roman Emperours, haue leaueld at the ſame.
What ſhould I ſay? I faynt to tell, or to diſcourſe of all,
And bare remembrance of the ſame, doo make my pen to fall.
And bid mée ceaſe, for why? Dame Fame haue ſworne and can not ly,
That ſhee will not permit the déedes of valiant wights to dy.
Then let vs ſeeke to hit that marke, wherto wée ſhould aſſend,
I meane to win eternall life, which neuer ſhall haue end.
For Fame in tract of time will fléete, but that ſhall euer laſt,
Fame ſerues but for this preſent life, but that when life is paſt.
So let vs truſt to Vertues waies, in hope the ſame to try,
That wee by proofe may plainly plead, that Vertue can not dy.
To his freende and kinſman I. Tin.
Satius eſt initijs, mederi quam fini.
THe Pacient which by yll ſucceſſe doth beare the daungerous ſore,
Whoſe ſwelling ſmart, & painful panges, increaſeth more & more
Dooth ſeeke the Surgeons ſkilfull hand, his paine for to aſwage,
Before the wound bee feſtered far, to mitigate his rage.
For why? the Surgeon willeth this, before the cure bee paſt,
Which done, hee layeth his helping hand, & heales the wound at laſt.
When winde hath rent with raging blaſt, the tender ſtocke and trée
At firſt if helpe begins to faile, then no redreſſe can bee.
And hunters vſe to trade their hounds, in youth to hunting game,
Leaſt that in age when time ſhall ſerue, they ſhould neglect the ſame.
For that which bréedeth by the bone, will hardly bee remoued,
And men in age will ſcarſely lothe, the thing which once they loued.
Then muſt I néedes reioyce my freend, that fortune doth reueale,
That thing to mee, which thou from mee didſt purpoſe to conceale.
Fame telles to mee with ſounding Trompe, that thou begins to loue,
I doo beleeue, yet Fame at firſt, could hardly credit moue.
But when as true Report was blaſed, Miſdout was baniſht quite,
And thou wert ſayd to ſue for grace, which is a louers right.
I ſpeake by geſſe, for why I lacke experience of the ſame,
I neuer ſerued her whom thou ſerueſt, nor neuer playde her game.
Yet this I thinke and do confeſſe, that loue may well bee vſed,
I know the ſame, I read the ſame, it ought not bee refuſed.
So long as loue keepes lawfull loue, and flies from Cupids Court,
Or if vnto Dame Venus Vale, it ginnes not to reſorte.
From whence (my fréend) I counſel thee, with tender loue and care,
That thou abſtaine, as well becomes thee to eſchue that ſnare.
And fix not thou thy fancy there, where care is baniſht quite,
But if thou loue, loue ſuch a one, as may yeeld thee thy right.
For if thou run in Laborinth, without Ariadnes clew,
Tis hap if thou finde out the doore, wherin thou didſt inſew.
Firſt looke, then leape: for why to leape, before thou ſedſt the ground
Perhaps thou maiſt leape in the Sea, wheras thou ſhalt bee drownd
Or els vpon ſome craggy Cliffe, whoſe ſtones thy head will daſh,
Or els vpon ſome pointed Speare, which in thy ſide will laſh.
Then wilt thou ſay, ah ha my freend, thy wordes are proued true,
Then looke I pray, before you leape, and thus my freend adue.
Maiſter Alexander D. gaue this Theame.
Multa cadunt inter calicem ſuprema
que
labrat.
BE not to bold, in chance and change, is oft a ſodain ſight,
And none doo know the victorer, while foes bee at the fight.
While Saylers ſulke vpon the ſeas, they know not where to land,
And ſome which thinke to hap in Hauen, d
•
ſinke within the ſand.
The fiſh which byteth on the baite, hath cleane forgot the ſnare,
And euery thing in proſperous ſtate, hath baniſht mortall care.
But yet ſo quickly turnes the wheele, the fates do change ſo ſone,
That good ſucceſſe, do ſeldome come, good dayes be quickly gone.
And hee which liues, can not prolonge, his yeares by halfe a day,
But when time comes, ſay what hée will, yet muſt hee needes away.
The corne which groweth vpon the ground, before it ſh
•
ote to blade,
Reuiues his hart, which long before, a good accompt hath made.
But yet before the Harueſt come, it falles and fades away,
And when the Barne doth aſke his right, the corne lyeth in decay.
Then truſt not vnto fickle fate, for why from ſun to ſun,
I meane from Morne to Euen wee ſee, that diuerſe things be done.
And in the Moment of the time, and twinckling of an eye,
Behold the man that liued in ioy, is ready for to dye.
Such is our ſtate, ſuch is our ſtrength, wheron wee daily truſt,
But if wee hope wheron wee holde, needes muſt we ly in duſt.
The poore Knights lamentation: wherin hee earneſtly bewayleth the
late loſſe of diuers worthy Gentilmens lyues, that died of a verye
ſtrange diſeaſe, at Oxforde, in Iuly 1577. among whom died Sir
Robert Bell, Lorde cheefe Baron, and Maiſter
Nicolas Barham, Ser
•
ant
of the Law, both Iuſtices of the Aſsiſe there, with other Knights
and Gentlemen, beſide Studients and others of all degrees, as fol
loweth.
STand ſtill yee Féends of Limbo Lake, ye helliſh hounds giue eare,
Stay Theſeus on thy whorling whéele, harke what I ſhall declare.
Come plonge in pit of paynfull plight, yee Furies three I pray,
Oh Pluto marke my dolefull mone, giue eare what I ſhall ſay.
And rue with mee the rufull chance, and mone the yll ſucceſſe,
The dolefull dole, the heauy hap, the dumpes of déepe diſtreſſe.
Which Oxforde Towne hath had of late, moſt freſh & new in minde
Harke, harke, ye Dames of Stigian flood, and waile by courſe of kinde
And though no teares of furies eyes, will eaſe the fatall fall,
Yet plaints of you which Furies bée, may moue the minde of all.
To ſay with mee, as I haue ſayd, alas helpe to deplore,
And waile y• chance, like to which chance, no chance hath chanſt before
In Oxforde towne, or Engliſh ſoile, ſince worthy Troians time,
Since Brute in coaſt, did ſeeke by fame, to cluſtering clowds to clime.
Oh ſtrange diſeaſe moſt ſtrange to tell, and ſtrange to call to minde,
As thundring fame hath tolde for truth, as reaſon did her binde.
Alas, alas, I rue to thinke, I tremble for to tell,
My fainting hart is much apalde, my ſoule in gréefe doth dwell.
But yet alas what hoote to mone, where teares will not a
•
ayle?
No gentle wordes will fence the Forte, where denting death aſſaile,
No ſugred termes will ſtay his ſtroke, no force will make him fey,
No ſubtill ſleight of mortall minde, hée wayeth no hydeous cry.
No worthy actes can banniſh death, or cauſe him to relent,
No fame, no name, for good deſerts no dayes in Iustice ſpent:
Can him intreate to holde his hand, no hope of future gaine,
Which might redound to common wealth, can cauſe him to abſtaine
But oft that Impe by whirling winde, is blaſted to decay,
And ſoneſt beares the withered leaues, wherof moſt hope doth ſtay.
Of Troian ſoile, let Hector ſay, let Pyrhus ſpeak
•
for Greece,
Or ioyne Achilles if you pleaſe, and Paris with his peece.
Macedons Prince may tell his tale, and Caeſar may diſcharge,
That good Hamilcars eldeſt Sonne, by proofe may tell at large.
What neede I range, ſith ranging far, doth br
••
de to great annoy,
Sith Bell, & Barham may blaze forth, which once were Englands ioy
Ah ſounding Bell, ah Barham bolde, (I meane in Iuſtice cauſe,)
Ah true maintainers of the right, and ſtrengthners of the lawes.
How oft can VVeſtminſter report, whoſe record can not ly,
Your true deſerts in Pleas of price, your worthy wits to try.
How oft can al Aſſiſes ſay, loe Bell, loe Barham hee?
Perdy in ſkill of Lawiers trades, thoſe worthy champions bée.
How oft hath Bell béene ſounded of, through euery Sheere & Towne?
How oft hath Barham through his deedes, atchiued high renowne?
But out alas, the Bell is broke, and Barhams toung doth ſtay,
For Death hath ſtrooke, whoſe daunting dartes eche worldling muſt obay.
Both Iudge & Shrife, both Shrife and Clarke, yea Clarke & Cryer al
Muſt giue accompt before the Iudge, when Chriſt his Cryer call.
And well I hope hath Bell deſerued, and Barham ſhal haue meede,
With all the reſt aloft in ſkyes, wheras the Angels feede.
And you ye doughty Knights whoſe corps, be laid in mourning graue
Whoſe bones ſhall long bée kept in ſtore, a good reward ſhall haue.
And though ye waile, yee Templers all, for them which you did know
Which oft within your coſtly Courts, their ſage aduiſe did ſhow.
Yet ſith the Fates haue cut their clewes, ſith Lacheſis hath ſayd,
That ſhee would ſtretch her hand no more, then be you well apayde.
And ſtay from murmering at their fate, ſuch fatall hap had they,
(Whom God had long ordaind before, to viſit in that day.)
As few haue ſeene or heard the like, with watery eyes lament,
With ſalted ſighes, and guſhing teares (which all in vaine be ſpent.)
In Oxford Town & euery where, where fame hath blown her blaſt,
And ſcalding ſighes in ſundry breſtes, haue vowed for ay to laſt.
What ſhall I ſay? what ſhall I wright? or ſhall I leaue my verſe?
How can my hand holde faſt my pen, theſe dollors to reherſe.
Nay, nay, as great a gréefe as that, did more augment my paine,
Which yet-hath lurkte, concealed faſt, but can not ſo remaine.
Euē for your ſakes yée Studiēts all, whoſe gréefe increaſe my ſmart,
For whom my minde was troubled ſore, (all flattery ſet apart)
Not mine alone, but thouſands more, did ſee themſelues agréeued,
And aſkt on knees of mighty Ioue, your time might bee reléeued.
How many harts haue wept with vs, which neuer ſaw that towne,
How many chéekes were moiſtned here, with teares y• ran adowne.
Should Cambridge ſmile, & Oxforde wéepe, then Camb. were vnkind
Nay, nay, my harts, your ſwelling ſmart, did beat in euery minde.
And floods of teares, for you did flow, repleat with meſtful mone,
So Cambridge ſwere that Oxforde towne, ſhall neuer morne alone.
Nay God forbid that Cambridge hart, ſhould euer harden ſo,
That would not ſend forth guſhing teares, to weepe for Oxfords we.
For why? no hart was hardned ſo, though it were made of braſſe,
That would not weepe for Fraunce his fall, when feirce Afflictiō
was
And rue with Antwerpes ruinous ruthe: alas what hart had hee?
That would not ſay Antwerpe adew: or Fraunce, Chriſt fight for thee,
Then who could ceaſe (although hee would) your fate for to deplore?
Sith wounds that ſticke more nere the bone, do breed the greter ſore
And though the caſe were far vnlike, to Fraunce and Antwerps ruthe,
Yet was your caſe as ſtrange to tell, as Fame hath tolde for truth,
Yea though your chāce were much more les, yet ought we to cōplain,
Sith that your ioy increaſe our mirth, your wo doth bring our paine
Then what was left for Cambridge towne, when Oxford felt the rod,
But ſtill to waile and weepe for you, and pray to mighty God:
That hee when his good pleaſure were, his heauy hand would ſtay,
And with his powre as well hee can, remoue his ſcourge away.
And ceaſe not you, as wée for you, to Ioue for vs to call,
That he would hold his ſtroke away, and keepe our towne from thral
That you which felt his heauy hand, and wee which rued the ſame,
May ioyne in one to laude the Lorde, and praiſe his holy name.
And bee content to beare the blow, which hee to you hath lent,
Though you had taſte of bittter pangs, (good harts) yet be content.
For why? when God ſhall thinke it good, in the twinckling of an eye
Hee can reuoke that hee hath ſent, your conſtancy to try.
Till then wee weepe, and pray for you, and liſten what inſew,
Deſiring Chriſt to ſtay his hand. From Cambridge thus adew.
The poore Knight his farewel to his Booke.
IF Robinſon, which hath no cauſe to feare,
Did ſtand in dout, that hee ſhould haue a rome:
Where Cheryll keepes, that hee I ſay euen there,
Should ſtand and tell, what Poets thither come:
Behinde the doore, there Cheryll tels his caſe,
And whips the dogges, out of that ſacred place.
If hee I ſay, this infamy did feare,
Which hath deſerued, ſuch fame in Engliſh coaſt:
Then farewell Booke, thy Maiſters hay declare,
Who thinkes himſelfe, inferior vnto moſt:
Thy Maiſter feares, by crooked chance and fate,
To haue a place without the Porters gate.
Not once to ſee, the Lawreat Poets place,
Ne yet to ſpeake vnto that dogged wight:
Then farewell Booke, bewray thy Maiſters caſe,
Who ſtands in dout, to put his name to light:
Leaſt that as hee, which Cheryll hath to name,
The world ſhould ſeeme, to blaze thy Maiſters ſhame.
And ſith thou art in yeares my eldeſt Sonne,
Diſdaine thou not, this viage to begin:
From hand to hand, addreſſe thy ſelfe to ronne,
And ſeeke good will, of euery man to win:
If Momus barke, and Zoylus gin to chat,
Bee of good cheare, and doo not bluſh at that.
And if thou ſpéede, ere many yeares bee paſt,
Thy brethren ſhall inſew thy former race:
If thou ſpeed not, then ſhalt thou bee the laſt,
As thou wert firſt, which did begin this caſe:
Speede well, ſpéede yll, her of ſhalbe an ende,
Adew good Childe, commend mee to my freend.
FINIS.