¶The pityfull Histori [...] of two louing Italians, Gaulfrido an [...] Barnardo le vayne: which ariued in the countrey of Grece, in the time of the noble Emperoure Vaspasian.
And Translated out of Italian into Englishe meeter by Iohn Drout, of Thauis Inne Gentleman.
Anno. 1570.
Imprinted at London by Henry Binneman, dwelling in Knightrider streete, at the signe of the Mermayde.
To the gentle Reader. VV. VV.
FRom fansies fonde, from fickle pates,
from wandring wittes and wilde,
Procéeds suche vaine and foolish toyes
as follie hath compilde.
For why? the sound of horned Pan
that Faunus liftes on hye,
Is all the musike that they can,
no other notes they plye.
Of Phoebus some they fauor séeke,
some Pallas grace do craue:
And some the sacred Systers ayde
do séeke and sue to haue.
But this (our Drout) yet most in grace,
not séeking glorie vayne,
Of fréendship for his countries sake
hath put him selfe to payne:
To make it knowne vnto this Lande
which Gospell doth professe,
What godly loue with them did stande
which could not God confesse.
Suche certaine shewes of frendship true
alas why should they dye?
Why should they not abrode be knowne
sith frendship dead dooth lye?
A shame it is for Christians, suche
[Page]as do Christs name professe
In worde and tong, to babble much
and follow nothing lesse:
Therfore let Drout tell foorth his tale,
and let his storie passe,
Let Heathen make the Christian pale,
in whom true fréendship was:
Let Momus freat, let Zoylus rayle,
the honest will be glad,
When they shall héere what honest truth
eche one to other had:
And wishe that we would do the like,
in worde and déede agrée,
That of our faithfull frendly acts
some worke compilde might be:
To giue example vnto those
that knowledge oures do want,
To shunne the ill, the good to choose,
And faythfull frendship plant.
This is thy minde, O Drout I know,
this is good purpose thine,
Of frendship true to make a shewe
in this vnfrendly time.
Passe not therfore though Midas prate,
and Assishe iudgement giue,
For why [...] the yeres of Nestor thrice
thou and thy worke shall liue.
Finis.
ꝙ VV. VV.
R. VV. To the Reader.
LEt not the foolish carping sort
of Zoylus freat and fume
At him, which for to sitte in seat
he dooth not once presume,
Wher Hayvvood sits, & Googe doth poure
their thundring verse amayne,
And Studley to, inferior nought
vnto the other twayne.
If that our Drout dooth looke for prayse[?]
he is not to be blamde,
His worke deserues no lesse: if some
(which might full well be namde
In this my muse) should tickle bare,
as dooth our Aucthor héere:
That it were well and princely doone
(though rotten were the géere)
Some man would say: but thus much I
dare boldly héere affirme
Him worthy prayse, yf so I may
my simple sentence terme:
Good Reader then, euen as he hath
with good will wrought the same:
So let him haue some recompence
of prayse for all his payne.
Finis.
ꝙ R. VV.
T. F. To the Reader.
ALthough cōmonly al men couet newes,
As wel the lerned, as the vulgar train:
Yet diuers things the common sort refuse,
Which to vnderstand they cannot attayne.
They therefore which in suche case shewe their zeale,
Declare their good wil to their natiue soile,
Such strange Histories to reueale,
Nothing regarding their labor and toyle.
This translator therfore of mere good will,
According as the Historie dooth moue,
To good effect hath shewed his learnde skil,
Declaring ensample of stedfast loue:
Wherby we may discerne as in a glasse,
That loue vnfayned can not be broken:
As in these two louers it came to passe,
Whose deedes[?] portende an euident token:
The like in our age seldome séene or found,
The more of all men to be lamented,
Which desire yt true loue might so abound,
That vile flatterie might be preuented.
Finis.
ꝙ T. F.
T. Smith to the Reader.
SYth euery man endeuereth
to get a crowne of fame,
By setting foorth fine Tragedies
for to augment their name,
Why should not this our aucthor then
(séeke for some part of prayse)
Which hath set foorth this pretty Booke
for thée thereon to gayse?
Where thou with ease maist read the same
which he with cruell toyle,
Hath tourned volumes huge full ofte,
all for his countrey soyle:
Wherfore (good reader) giue to him
some recompence of payne:
For egall labor (men do say)
deserueth egall gayne.
If that Translation his be not
accompted good to be,
Mine must be called in agayne
as farre as I can sée▪
But this (our Drout) he hath his done
in euery poynt so well,
That for the changing of this spéech
he onely heares the bell.
The Italians[?] they them selues do loue
and dayly prayse our Drout,
[Page]Who hath so aptly turnde to verse,
verbatim thorowe out.
If that of men to vs vnknowne
he can get suche a prayse,
Then ought not we his countreymen
a greater fame to rayse?
We ought in déede, but yet we séeke
eache one to beare a name:
So that the Students yong can haue
no prayse to ease their payne.
But if this Drout be worthy prayse
(and as he is in déede)
Séems not but for to giue him prayse
to paye him for his méede.
Finis.
ꝙ T. S.
¶The Preface to the Reader.
BEholde (gentle Reader) hovve I haue depainted and set forth vnto thee this vvofull historie of tvvo Italians (al for thine ease as I hope) vvhiche by thy diligente reading thou shalt finde them nothing at all inferiour (concerning true amitie) to the tvvo Turtles Titus and Gisippus, and that thou shalte thinke them vvorthie to be receyued into the troupe: or to bee committed amongest the crue vvhiche are already rehearsed of maister Vnderdonne: also I haue as greate admiration (as euer he had) vvhat they should bee that do not reioyce to heare of the vnspeakable freindshippe and amitie vvhiche vvas betvvene Orestes and Peliades, Theseus and Perithous, Achilles and Patrocles, Nisus and Eurialus, Castor and Pollux, Damon and Pithias Achates and Aeneas, Alexander and Ephestio, Celius and Patronius, C. Lelius and Scipio Affricanus, Darius and Megabisus, and last of all, that be not glad to heare of our Gaulfrydo and segnior Bernardo, vvho for true amitie maye be annexed and adioyned vvith the rest. VVherefore (gentle Reader) [Page] I considered vvith my selfe that I vvas one of the moste that coulde do least, for the vvhich cause, I vvoulde very gladly haue yelded vp vvholly this storie (beeing but lately come forth) to some other of my acquaintaunce vvhich might haue done it farre better (than possible I haue done at this tyme.) But beyng in a maner partly coacted by a speciall frende of myne (to bevvray this my small skill vnto thee) I toke it vpon me the boldlyer: In hope vvhen as thou shouldest (at thy leysure) conferre the one vvith the other, then thou vvoldest iudge fauourably, and correcte friendly: and to saye vvith Terence, that Nihil est iam dictum, quod non sit dictum prius. Thus leauing of to trouble thee any further, I committe it to the correction of the learned. Vale.
Reade ere thou iudge, then iudge thy fill▪
But iudge the best, and mende the yll.
To the right worshipfull sir Frauncis Iobson knight, Lieutenant of the Toure, Iohn Drout wisheth long lyfe, with continuall felicitie.
WHEN AS I had perused and diligētly red ouer this pitiful historie, and sundry times giuē my vvhole indeuor to the vvell markyng of the same (right vvorshipful sir) I considered vvith my selfe, first hovve profitable it vvold be to those, vvhich be desirous to learn the Italian speeche: ageyne pondring in my mynde, hovv pleasant a thing it is for to reade this hidden historie, (vvhich not vvithout little paine) I haue translated out of Italian into English verse, very plainly, for those vvhiche shall meane to giue their vvhole indeuor and industry to the attaining of so pleasant a language. VVherefore being vvholly bent and purposed to haue this my simple translation of so notable a tragedie published: I thought it good for diuers considerations to bestovve this the first frutes of my trauell, vpon youre vvorship, rather than vppon any other man, first bicause of the great affection, and continuall good vvill, vvhich your vvorship and my good Lady your bedfelovv (vvhich lately deceased [Page] (haue borne to my deare parents, vvhō I pray God long to continue, and for many more benefites, the vvhich (for breuities sake) I do pretermitte: for consideration vvhereof I haue the more boldlyer attempted to dedicate this my little and simple volume to your vvorship, hauing a good hope and trust that you vvill haue me excused for my rude boldnesse, and accept my good vvill herein signified. Thus leauing you, and all yours to the tuition of almightie God, vvho increase you vvith continuall vvorship, graunt you long life, vvith eternall felicitie, I bidde you farevvell.
Your worships to commaunde, Iohn Drout.
Galfrido and Bernar [...] le Vayne.
NOw boystrous Boreas hath left off
his puffing blastes to blowe,
Now haue the soming seas theyr will
to ebbe or for to flowe:
The troubled sayler he doth laugh
to sée the waues at rest,
The marchant he triumphes for ioy,
and thinkes the Gods haue blest
Him carefull man: whose carefull head
is troubled howe to kéepe
Unruly barke of his, from wracke[?]
of suche as dayly créepe[?]
From shore to shore, still practising
howe they myght gette the gayne
Of suche things as the marchaunt he
hath woonne with cruell payne.
Dooth not the théeuishe rouer sporte
when hée at anker lyes,
Whiche lately with outragious cryes
his ending day espyes?
Dooth he not thinke that Neptune God
hathe ridde hym out of thrall?
Or did not that Aeneas vile,
whiche Captayne was of all
[Page]The lande and goods that Dido quéene
was able for to make:
Was he not glad at sodayne calmes
(thinke you) and so to take
His harbor where he might it finde,
or where it was assingde
By mightie Gods aboue, or else
by mother his so kinde?
What fearefull nations did inuade
Achilles woofull wight,
When hushing waues ten in a rowe
did ouerrunne him quight?
Did he not cut the waters salt
the foming seas apace,
When as the cruell nipping winde
was wholly in his face?
Were not companions his sore to ylde
vppon the raging flood?
But when that they arriude to Troy,
then they did thinke it good
That they had laborde so in stormes,
for then in wether cléere
They canuas may their bisket harde,
and tipple vp the béere,
Which lay all harde a sennights space,
(as Ouid he dooth tell:)
So may they tayre their bakon blacke,
and féede of it full well,
[Page]For Saylers they can féed apace
in weather faire or fogge,
And will not sticke (in hunger theirs)
to eate a barking dogge.
But now eche man they may reioyce
that Lady Ver is nere,
Now may they sée with glimmering eyes
once Phoebus to appere:
How Estas he with comely grace
full trimly dooth display,
And howe that Tellus floorisheth
through ayde of lustie May:
In pleasant moneth of this (my frends)
eache man dooth ioy by kinde,
And euery man dooth practise what
were best to please his minde.
As Gaulfrid here (th'Italian Books
do shewe his name to be)
Dooth séeke and search in rotten boats
straunge countries for to sée.
And comming to the lande of Grece,
where Turrets hye doo stande,
Where houses shining all of golds
be plast (as well I scande[?])
By chaunce, as fortune would it haue,
he entered in at one,
Where he found Barnarde le vayne
then sitting all alone:
[Page]A kinsman and a frend of his,
whom then he did not know:
The Gods them selues (I thinke forsoth)
they would it should be so.
Gaulfrydo he whose smirking lookes
and liuely chere at last,
Bewrayde the one t'other then
ere foure words they had past.
To sée the ioy of louing friends
when they togither met,
Tho Nestors life twice tolde I had
I should them not forget.
The one imbrast, the other kist,
they wepe for ioy in place:
Gaulfrydo could not speake bicause
all smyred was his face,
With driueling drops of lukewarm teares
which trickled downe a pace
His paled face: his fréend in déede
as fast did poure agayne
His dryry teares: incontinent
then sayde Barnard le vayne,
The day hath been, O coosin[?] mine,
that fréends we haue béen both,
As we are now (for ought I know
and that we both were loth
The one the other to displease,
as reason wilde vs so,
[Page]Whilst Babes we wer, we went to schoole
together you do knowe,
What did I euer in my life
whereby that I your foe
Should counted be: or that I haue
not béen as true to thée
As euer thou or any man
coulde euer be to me?
Let womens teares exiled be,
say to them all adewe.
Gal.
No, no, my fréende, of forged teares
I thinke I haue but fewe,
I would to God that thou hadst béen
but halfe so true to mée,
As I haue béen in euery thing
a royall fréend to thée:
Thou wouldest not haue hoysed vp
thy sayles to euery winde,
Not knowing I (poore wretched wight)
in what place thée to finde:
Nor yet thou wouldest once haue left
me in a countrey rude,
Among the rauening sort of woolues
which sought for to detrude
Me (seely wretch) from countrey mine,
whereas my mother bore
And kept me, from my cradle yong,
(hir greefe it was the more,)
[Page]Ne yet thou wouldest once haue made
thy loytering boy to pull
The vdder which doth guide the shippe,
or els to hall the skull
The which hath beaten foming seas
a thousand times twise tolde,
In Hyems ragged, gagged frosts
when it was bitter colde,
Thou little thoughtest on thy fréend
when thou on hatches low
Didst sléepe thy fill, all for thine ease
it was, that I do know,
All voyde of care thou wast in pup,
alone there didst thou sit
Like prince on throne, the master he
belike did thée permit,
When mates of thine, ech one wer fayne,
to gather on a flocke,
Bicause that surging Seas did rise,
and tooke them to their cock:
Their little pretty frysking bote
which tottereth vp and downe,
In hope to finde some ease when as
they should espye the towne,
Wheras they might haue some refuge,
and succor for to saue
Their wéeried corps, which only thing
it was that they did craue.
[Page]But when that darkned cloudes wer gone,
and all things els did cléere,
Then mate to mate eche other calde,
and sayd, ho mate what cheere?
And yf you be all well, and as
I hope you be, with spéede
Set vp your sayles (thus do you say)
to go we had but néede?
Then euery man doth hale and pull
the Halliards all a row:
Beholde thy foresayle it is vp,
now Auster do thou blow
A huffing gayle: and by and by
bicause thou woldst be gone,
The foretop and the mayne top sayle
thou placest euen anone:
Yet must thou haue thy spirit sayle out,
all onely to be blowne,
Thy Myssen[?] yet must not be left
behinde, to well is knowne.
Thy roaring cannons and thy chens
be layde on euery side,
Yea bases, foulers, quarter slings
which often hath béen tride:
Thy Fakens, Taucknets, minions all
a row thou hast them layde,
Caleuer and thy hargabus,
which lately hath béen made
[Page]All onely for to kéepe me from
thy rotten Oyster bote,
Though litile I haue sayde (my fréend)
full well I could it note.
But for all that, thou séest how good
the Gods haue béen to mée,
To let me once approch the coast
where as I might thée sée.
Bar.
Alasse why dost thou me suspect
of such a haynous cryme,
It was not long of me (in faith)
that I went at this time,
Full sore agaynst my will it was
that I should leaue behinde
Me, thée, who as a Pithias
continually I finde:
It was not the cruell tyrant Turks
which only did vs chase,
From all along the fierie Seas
till we did come in place,
Where as a mate of ours did sound
foure hundred fadams déepe
In brackishe Seas: so at the laste
we chaunced for to créepe
To this same village towne, wheras
you founde me all alone:
Whereas I haue acquayntance small,
not being knowne of one.
[Page]But euery day since I came foorth
still thought I on thy name,
I thought vpon our countrey rude,
still praying for the same,
Bicause I knew thy blessed corps
had there his lodging place,
In hope agayne that thou woldst looke
my Picture on the face,
Which hangs in chamber thine bedeckt,
then wouldst thou haue in minde
(I would suppose) Barnarde le vayne,
which vnto thée did binde
With faith and truth, a louing fréend,
and faithfull for to bée,
So long as that the gods should graunt
Osselly mine to sée.
No sooner had Aurora come
but vp I would me hye
Into the hyest place of shippe,
and there I would discrie
The tumbling whales, the Dolphins huge
as I in Barke did stande.
If wishes would haue then preuaylde
I would haue béen on lande,
At Brownbread crust with Galfrydo,
then for to haue the wine
That lay in ship (which Bacchus brewde)
or els the biskets fine.
[Page]Thus would I vewe and dayly thinke
that thou wouldst after hye,
Now would I thinke vnto my selfe
thy shippe for to espye.
But all for nought the longer I
did gaze in open ayre:
The farder still thou wast from me
so muche more was my care,
When as I had in memorie
our parents that be dead,
Our mothers kind which pampered vs
and long ago had fed
Both thée and me with milke so swéete,
then was I like a stone
Then was my hart euen like to burst
my senses they were gone,
My lights, my lungs, so vexed were,
that none had thought that I
Should euer haue skapt such trimbling fits
but presently should dy,
On salt sea flouds they minded all,
and purposely were bent,
To hang a warrant on my necke,
and streight for to haue sent
Me to the bote that Caron guides,
the ferry man of hell:
For they supposed that I would not
any longer with them dwell.
[Page]And yet for all these miseries
that I haue waltered in,
To charge me with vngratefulnesse
me thinke you do not lin:
But if thou beest a fréend to me
as thou doest say thou art,
Séeme not to lay them to my charge,
but let them all depart
Quite from thy hart: behold, these words
he had no sooner spoke,
But for to worke him iniury
vile fortune dooth prouoke.
Now doth she turne hir tottering whéele[?]
she looketh crabbed sowre,
Now dooth she bend hir cursed browes
now dooth she pout and loure,
Now may you sée this fickle dame
the Camelions part to play.
How she will change in sundry formes
a thousand times a day,
How she doth play the wether cocke
that turns with euery winde,
To some she will be foolishe stout,
to other some as kinde:
O that she can so flatter men
with graunting their desire,
And will not suffer them to cleue
to that they do aspire.
[Page]To whome in all their lyfe almost
hir friendship doth she showe:
But when he thinkes him best of all,
hath then his ouerthrowe?
I pray you did she euer yet
aduaunce a man on earth,
Whiche wholly put his trust on hir
had not vntymely death?
Hath she not taken many men
on hye from glimmering gleame?
Did she not slay king Priams babes
and spoyle him of his realme?
Dooth she not play suche prety prankes
continually with some?
Yes that she doth: When that they thinke
theyr blessed state is come.
But sée the chaunce that ha [...]ned nowe
euen in the selfe same streete
Where they did hoste, two enimies
at that same tyme did méete,
Who when they sawe eche other, gan
their shiuering blades to drawe:
And to be shorte, the one dyd thruste
the other through the mawe,
The guttes, the lungs, the intrayls all,
but streyght away he went
That didde the faete[?]: But messengers
immediately were sent
[Page]With bilbow blades, and rusty billes,
to bidde him come and dine
In gayle, where as perchaunce he should
fynde little store of wine
For to digest the waightie boltes.
Thus came they in a route,
Tom with a clubbe, Dicke with a spitte,
twoo propre men and stoute.
They séeke as men should looke a hare,
to let the gréedie hounde,
Have now a snatche, and then a snatche
to bring hir to the grounde.
But all for nought, they founde him not
whiche onely did the facte:
In no place coulde they him espie,
but backe ageyne they packt,
Where as they sawe in myddest of stréete
Galfrido looking out
From wyndowe hye (who maruelling
what made them so to shoute
And make a noyse (with cryes so shryll.)
they did him straight espie,
That he should be the murtherer,
some there began[?] to trie:
Upon the which, they entred in,
the host they first espyde,
More bones[?] they made not with him there,
both hand, and foote they tyed
[Page]Him séely man (without offence)
with halters good and strong,
Which fitter were for these same knaues
that did him open wrong:
Then vp they do ascend on hye
where as these two did walke,
They ment no gyle, they thought no hurt,
no suche thing did they talke,
They tooke them both, like séely lambs
in arme in arme they went
To prison strong, wheras their Oste
was fully that way bent.
Such comely persons to behold
as they along did go,
Would make a man as hard as flinte
to melt, my selfe I know:
But for to thinke what piteous lookes
they shewed as they went,
Agayne to sée what smiling chéere
the one the other lent,
To sée what wonderous changes was
betwéene these troubled thrée,
Tho that I liude seuen hundred yeres
the like I should not see.
Assoone as they to prison were
committed one by one,
The multitude diminished,
then were they left alone
[Page]Among the rustie iangling chaynes
where vermin dooth abound
In dungeon déepe (where light as yet
some thinke they haue not found)
Where Todes do kepe, and adders dwell,
where as with vgly paw
And gréedy corps, the serpent foule
in fetters he dooth gnaw
The seely soule which is bewrapt
in many tangled snares,
The simple man, whose troubled head
is fixt with many cares:
I thinke the foule infernall féends
not halfe so ill do dwell,
Nor they that dwell in Tartar déepe
inhabite suche a hell.
I thinke, not Tantal, Pelops sonne
so cruelly was paynde,
As these same three, the which my muse
already héere hath faynde:
Nor Titios[?] (in iudgement mine)
did euer feele such payne,
Nor he that brought to mountaynes top
the stone that fell agayne,
Ne yet the tyred Byllices
that hales the buckets twayne
In drawing water, which returns,
as Poets they do fayne:
[Page]Tho Prometheus stands so still
At cruell pinching racke,
With hande and foote beset so wide
till all his bones do cracke.
Though these same troubled souls thēselus
suche spitefull payne endure,
Yet may they nought at all compare
with these (that I am sure)
For paynefull pangs: but Fame she hath
nowe sounded farre and néere
This miserable cursed chaunce:
but when that they did heare
Which wer their mates, the hollow sighes
yea euery man did fette,
The trickling drops of many teares
to shead they nothing lette:
They houle and cry full piteously,
and euermore they bande
That cruell cursed Esterne winde
which brought them to the lande.
They teare their herish mantels gray,
they pull in péeces fast,
Their gally bréeches all a rowe,
they were so sore agast:
Who so had seene the Marriners
their séely flesh to teare,
Himselfe would thinke but that they had
béen voyde of euery care:
[Page]They lost their senses all at once,
their faces all were pale
And wan, to see the fortune that
these men should come in gayle,
Not being yet one houre ago
since that they came on shore:
If by their harts they might haue come
I thinke they would haue tore
In péeces small, they were so vext
that instant present time,
That none had thought that euer they
the shrowdes agayne would clime:
Nor yet haue sayled away with barke,
they were in suche a case:
Some drew no breath, why? they wer dead
thrée houres in that place:
They were as wilde as hares that be
ybred in bushes thicke,
Or els the Roe which hedges hye
to leape he dooth not sticke.
Thus are the Sea men troubled to
as well as other bée,
They féele as bitter pangs, or worse
as any of the thrée.
Yet reason somewhat taketh place,
and calleth backe agayne
These troubled soules which lately were
in miserable payne,
[Page]Their wits to them be now restorde,
they haue their memorie,
They do pretend to go and sée
this wofull tragidie:
Where when they came in market place
they saw the gallow trée,
The scaffold where the iudges seat
appoynted was to bée,
The bar, wher they shuld plead their cause,
yf giltie they were found,
The Sargiants with the yeomens ayde
which stoode about them round,
Should lead them to the trée a crosse
the which the hangman made
The day afore, in hope that he
twise double should be payde
For this his worke, for he doth say
that time doth him prouoke,
That now the pigge is proffered
to holde vp straight the po [...]e:
For what so euer that they be
that will not when they may,
The Prouerbe hath him tolde that when
he would he shall haue nay.
Now euery thing prouided was,
the iudge him selfe comes in,
The gayler he commaunded was
that he should neuer lin[?],
[Page]Till that the prisoners were brought,
their iudgement for to haue
Aright, which they them selues that time
most willingly did craue:
They came full weakly God doth know,
the one the other led,
They lookt as tho that Atrapos
had cut their fatall thréed,
Their faces shewed as tho they had
lien in their graue a yeare,
To loke vpon them stedfastly
eache one did stand in feare,
So vgly was their looke when as
they came from dungeon déepe,
They were so faynt through féeblenesse
that they could scarsely créepe,
But by the stony walles, which would
not suffer them to fall,
Lest that perchaunce the stubborne bolts
their féeble legs might gall:
There might you sée thrée women, that
were quicke with child in sound,
Two men, a boy, a mayde, there
starke dead that time was found:
Ye might beholde the Marriners
how they did tremble fast,
What feruent fayth they suffered
till these same thrée were past.
[Page]Ay me alas (quoth one) that I
should euer sée the day,
Wo worth the time that I was borne
an other he can say:
The third he saide that he was curst
the worser was his lucke,
When as his nurse she gaue to him
hir puffed teat to sucke:
The fourth he said, I was bewitcht,
when first I handled knife,
I think my crooked armes wer curst
it did not rid my life.
What wicked fortune had we when
we scaped in the night,
(What made vs all to cry aloude,
now gallows clayme thy right)
When we wer almost drounde in
déepest Sea by Libia?
What euill chaunce had we to scape
the straights of Affrica?
Ther houls the ragged boy a mayne
with open throte a loude,
His voyce so shrill ascended straight
vnto the hyest cloude
That placed was in ayre, beset
with starres on euery side,
Or wher the glorious Phoebus runs
his course) so loude he cride,
[Page]With cares he was so nipt at hart,
that all things there he curst.
He liude not long, incontinent
amongst them all he burst.
Gaulfrydo went before the Iudge
all féeble as he might,
Barnarde le Vayne trudged after fast,
he was not out of sight.
The Iayler led the inholder,
which was in shackle strong,
The quest did quit him by and by,
he taried there not long.
Of which his carefull wife was glad,
of mirth was all hir song,
The hangman held his head aside,
he thought they did him wrong.
Barnarde le vayne he pleaded harde.
it did vpon him lye,
That he was giltlesse of the déede
eche one began to crye:
The iudge himselfe could nothing finde,
ne could the rest that went
Upon that matter, harde to skanne,
but wholly they were bent
To sette him frée: And as they did
who taried for to heare
Galfrydos case, like to a fréende
as héere it dooth appeare.
[Page] Galfrydo he was called out
his iudgement for to know,
His hart was gone, he shaketh fast,
he trembleth as the dow,
To sée the cruell lookes, the which
the Iudge did to him giue.
When Iupiter was driuen out
of heauen by cruell feare
Of Ziphoon, that gyant huge,
which did approche him neare:
At that same time, I meane, when as
full secretly he came
To Egipt, where in forme and shape,
was like vnto a ram:
Iuno she was made a Cowe,
Appollo was a crow,
They stoode not halfe so much in feare
as Galfryde I do know:
Nor yet Dianas buttocks went
so fast a pitte a patte,
When she was driuen out of heauen,
and then became a Catte:
Nor Venus, who doth dayly make
yong men hir birds to wish,
Was not so feard (as this our fréend)
when she was made a fish:
Ne yet the mery Mercury
which often would haue playde
[Page]On Oten pipe, when Ibis he
a pretty birde was made.
They néeded not once to haue left
the heauens for such a knaue:
No more this wight he néeded not
to feare, which will not saue
Him selfe (as it doth séeme to me)
but graunteth to the fact:
And saide vnto the Iudge aloude,
I onely did the act.
At which his fréend all in a maze,
began thus for to say:
Ye Patrons graue and wise, giue ears
to me I do you pray:
This man (O noble Senatours)
did neuer do the déede,
It was my selfe I do confesse,
no longer now you néede
To toyle and moyle in searching foorth
this matter, which is playne.
Gal.
O hold thy peace thou trustie fréend,
thou speakest but in vayne,
It was euen I that did the déede,
if Iudges right they be,
Let this my fréend go packe away,
the law must go on me:
Offender there must be but one,
all you do know the same▪
[Page]Afore you all, the murderer
my selfe I do proclayme.
Bar.
Not so my fréend, but onely I
whose craysed corps with stroke,
In sunder quite, in midst of stréete,
with bloodie sword I broke.
Gal.
I did the déede, yf that you meane
the fellow for to take.
Bar.
Thou didst not, wherof leaue of
thy forging tales to make.
O constant man that euer was,
thy fame will neuer dye,
O noble hart that dwels in brest
where such true loue doth lye.
At sodayne sight of this the Iudge
was wholly there amazde,
Then hurly burly did begin,
great rumors straight was raysde:
Then euery man would be a iudge,
and say that it was he
That did the déede: some verdits were
the other for to be.
But God the truest searcher of
the inwarde parts of man,
The mightie Iudge, the Lord of all
that possibly we can
Or may recite, with foultring tong
for his he dooth prouide.
[Page]When they be in their troubles great,
as héere it may be tride:
The murderer stood by the stage
whereas the iudges sate,
His conscience so prickt him there,
that vp aloft he gate
Afore them all, where rudely he
did draw his bloodie blade,
Where easely it might be séene
how it in blud was layde:
This vile and cankred sword (quoth he)
and I were at the fray,
I am the man (ye Iudges) that
did bring him to a bay,
I laide along his laysie corps,
I do it not denye,
And if it were to do agayne,
by God that sittes on hye,
I would it do: wherfore these men
haue suffered iniurie,
Abiding for my onely déede
suche cruell miserie.
Upon the which the iudges they
began a new assise,
And better for to thinke vpon
the matter they deuise:
The quest agayne begins a fresh
vpon these two to goe,
[Page]The standers by they giue good eare
the verdit for to knowe,
The foreman he doth bring it in,
he sheweth very playne▪
The matter whole: but to be sure
they are turnde backe agayne.
Yet once more they do come, wher as
they tolde the iudge that he
That last of all did come in place,
the murderer for to be.
The Iudge he did condemne him there,
the hangman he did watche,
He thought within him selfe that he
had caught a goodly catche.
Where when the people heard him say,
go hence the gallowes stayes,
Their wits in searching foorth the truth,
all there began to prayse.
The Iudges prayse doth flée abrode,
him euery man doth name,
In countrey, towne and villages
full rife is knowne his fame.
The foresaide Mariners reioyce,
their mates eche one be glad,
That these their heads had scapt so wel:
vpon the which they had.
The towns men with their gladsom wiues
their housholds whole and some,
[Page]To take their pleasures of the wine
if they would to them come,
Whereas their ship did lye, which brought
the claret, white and red,
Their bisket good, but mouldy chéese,
whereof they dayly fed.
Eche one attended to their willes,
they graunted their desire,
They clothe them selues full sumptuously,
they weare their best attyre:
The day is come, the pretty dames
which be so free and franke,
Do go so sagely on the way
by two and two a ranke,
Which séemed well, but yet they would
not bid vnto the feast
The Murderer which hanged was,
of whom they thought on least,
Which was of them an ouersight:
but if they him had bid,
He would haue made them answere none,
bicause that he had rid
But lately here, one winching iade,
which did him leaue behinde,
So that the right way to his home
he could not after finde:
But in his stead one Tibine came,
Amasina his wife,
[Page]His daughter fayre Charina, whome
they loued as their lyfe,
Who dyd surmount the virgins all
that euer was in Greece:
I thinke the goddes neuer made
a fayre or trimmer péece:
They coulde not, why? bycause the moulde
(whiche was with them so rare)
Themselues had lost: when first they made
hir rosiall colour fayre,
Hir princely corps, hir shoulders twayne,
hir stature long and tall:
Hir little head adorned was,
whiche ouerlooketh all:
With gorgious knackes of value greate
hir fingers to depaynt,
Apelles ours, or Xeuxes good,
she woulde make for to faynt,
The better of them bothe, if that
they were on earth alyue,
This to be done in euery poynt
mans witte can not contriue:
What though he tooke in hande to make
dame Venus in hir plight,
Yet durste he not set to his hande
with pensill for to wright
Or paynte at large this sumptuous dame
whome euery one dooth vewe:
[Page]Nay, if he shoulde, he myght perchaunce
his hastinesse soone rewe,
He woulde bée rapt in amours then
farre further with this dame,
Than euer he with Venus was,
if I may tell you playne.
But all this banket while: Bernard
hée cast a glimmering eye,
He was as glad as any man
when hir he myght espie.
Nowe all this whyle did Venus smyle,
and Cupide craftie knaue:
Sreight Bernards heart was stroke wt dart,
and suche a blowe he gaue,
As none but that Charina she:
Coulde helpe hym, I am sure,
No physickes arte, but she alone
was able for to cure
His pangs, his pangs, his fretting pangs
which vexed him so sore:
A worser plague hath chaunced now
than euer dyd before:
Nowe is he driuen to study harde,
he dares not to hir speake,
His bloody heart it was so full
that it was lyke to breake:
But for all that he kept them tacke
what euer that they did.
[Page]Till that the night with mantle blacke
the splendant light had hyd:
For all that Nox was comming on,
and Vesper after hyed,
A little whyle yet did they staye
bicause they had espied
The bycornd Moone: who was at hand
to light them on their way,
The minstrell he was called in
some pretty iest to play:
Then Robin hood was called for,
and malkin ere they went:
But Barnard euer to the mayde
a louing looke he lent,
And he would very fayne haue daunst
with hir, if that he durst:
As he was offering, Galfryd caught
hir by the hand at furst,
Who being in as farre as one
he was not to be blamde:
But this same dorre his fréend abode,
of which he was ashamde,
There nought he said, but laught as fast
as any of them did:
When they had done, he toke the mayd,
a galliarde he did bid:
The minstrels play in comely sort,
he led hir twice about,
[Page]Then hir he capt, she cursie made
afore the open rout:
He trips about with sincopace,
he capers very quicke,
Full trimly there of seuen aleuen,
he sheweth a pretty tricke:
Eche man they did behold him there,
hir father likes it well:
Amasina hir mother saide
that he should beare the bell.
These words made glad the yongmās hart,
the minstrels left to play,
He gaue to hir the curtesie
that dauncers vse to pay.
They do depart, they hye them home,
they thanke them for their chéere,
The pretty maide she commeth on,
to them she draweth néere,
With cursies two or thrée she doth
giue thanks vnto them both:
But that she should them shortly sée
at home she would be loth.
Now for hir gentle curtesie
a hundred thanks they giue:
Ere two dayes past they saide they would,
if they so long did liue.
Now all the way they haue no talke,
but of these louing twayne:
[Page]Eche one they ioyed that these two
were ridden of their payne.
An olde saide saw it is the which
is spoken of euery one,
The lesser gréefe exiled is,
a greater comes anone.
These troubled two they go to bed,
where they on fansies fed,
The one he thinks vpon the mayde,
the other thinks in déed
That he was blest when he might
by any meanes deuise,
Once for to see with rouing sight
that dame before his eyes:
They turne and tosse in bed full oft,
from side to side agayne,
Now one would vp, the other downe,
but nought would ease their payne.
At last the Rauens did discry
Aurora to be néere,
Then vp they goe in comely wise
eche one puts on his géere:
They hyed to the wished place
where as the virgin lay,
Galfrydo saw she was not vp,
he went him selfe away,
Barnard le vayne he taryed still,
he saw that did him please,
[Page]He trudged home full merily,
his feuers did appease.
Galfrydo whippeth out anone,
he goeth to hir round:
Barnard he after hyes apace,
where that same time he found
Galfrydo talking soberly
vnto the mayde alone:
Barnard he thought his part was lost,
his loue away was blowne,
Of him he thought no count was made
he durst not shew his minde
To hir, who euer loude him well,
as by due proofe we finde:
He doubts she will not graunt to him
that which he would desire,
He durst not shew his inward gréefe
which burneth as the fyre:
But to his chamber straight he goes
where vp and downe he walks
In torments great, in fretting pangs,
vnto him selfe he talkes:
O God (quoth he) what makes my head
to be so farre at square,
My wittes be almost rauished,
suche is my gréeuous care.
But to asswage that dolefulnesse
that heauinesse of minde,
[Page]He taketh penne in hand to write
to hir, some ease to finde.
Trudge little letter, thou thinkest none yll,
Go do thy dutie, all things to fulfill.
Seignor Bernardo to his mystresse Charina.
MY Lady deare, in vvhome
my lyfe and death is set,
Refuse me not, (I thee desire)
my greefe do not forget:
But reade and iudge of this,
as you shall thinke it best,
See hovve the fyery flame of loue
abridgth my quiet rest,
Ilyue, and yet doe dayly dye,
I vvyther as the floure,
I follovv death: yea death hym selfe,
denies to shevve his povvre.
Fayne vvoulde I speake to thee (my loue)
to shevve my pyning vvo,
My silly senses disagree,
eche one I shoulde do so,
That they myght take theyr rest,
as they haue done before,
[Page]For that my sorrovves still begins,
and vexe mee more and more.
I bathe my breast vvith dolefull teares,
I neuer ceasse to mone,
I sigh as dothe a vvounded deare,
into a place alone,
VVhere as I do on fansies feede,
thereby to please my mynde,
Still fayning that I see thy face,
some ease at length to fynde.
Or else that I should so become
as one forlorne (alas)
My handes vvould not forbeare a vvhit
to lette my soule out passe.
Turne backe novve (good mysteresse myne)
regarde my sute I say:
Let not a louer yong so soone
bee brought vnto decay:
Fleshe me therefore novv (I do say)
good lady in this game,
Denie me not at fyrst, I craue,
vvhiche neuer knevve the same.
All this is for thy onely loue,
that my poore harte dothe taste:
Thou only arte the cause, god knovves,
my piteous partes doo vvaste,
Let novve deare dame, some mercy come
consider of my cause,
[Page]That am but lately brought in holde
to tast of louers lavves:
That all the vvorlde may say
thou damsell haste the knyfe,
VVho myght haue slayne me vvofull vvretch
and yet didst saue my lyfe:
Hereby thou vvinst the price,
then print thys in thy mynde,
Beholde hovve pitie pleades my cause,
lette hir some fauoure fynde.
In hope hereof my deere adevv,
the treasure of my trust,
The onely comfort of my care
tyll I consume to dust.
Your loyall and afflicted seruant Seignor Bernardo.
Reade not in spight, but take delight
in this, vvhiche once vvas prose,
VVhose vvatered plants scarse sicate vvere
till he this same did close.
But as he hath vvith good vvill vvritte,
vvhose hearte thou haste in holde,
So nothing lette to doe the lyke,
vvherof thou myght be bolde,
To count him as thyne owne,
Whose heart with thine shal rest alone.
Nowe it is made, yet dooth hée doubte
that this will not preuayle,
[Page]Then starts he vp in furie great,
and thus begins to rayle:
O palefaced, hellish, lumpish sow,
O grisly ghost, I say,
What ment the hilles they fell not on
my corps that present day
When first I saw that Tigresse vile,
that hart of marble stone,
That traytresse rude, with whom I thinke
my fréend is now alone:
O that the heauens might fall on hir
which worketh me this wo:
I hope the earth will swallow hir,
or Boreas he will blo
Away with blasts that Lionesse,
that no man may hir sée:
I would the raging foming Seas
they had hir for their fée.
Or that the mightie Iupiter
when he is in his yre,
Might throwe vpon hir thunder boltes,
or els consume with fire
Hir cursed corps, which hath in it
a poyson cankred hart:
Or that the foule infernall féendes
of hir might haue a part.
His host then being néere at hand,
heard him in raging wise,
[Page]Who it should be he marueyled,
he could not well deuise:
But vp he goes, where him he founde,
he asked him the cause,
He doth not let, but telleth all,
at it he doth not pause.
Feare not my guest (the good man said)
as yet she is not spead.
Bar.
If that she be, the diuell gnaw
hir beastly carren head.
But ere she be, I loke to haue
a recompense of payne,
And reason willes it so to be,
vnlesse she list to fayne:
But some respect for loue (I thinke)
to haue vnfayned parte,
And thinke it but a fit rewarde
for suche a good desart:
But I vnhappiest wight of all
haue spent my time in vayne,
In hope of succor at hir hands
Whilst other get the gayne.
As thirsty ground doth gape for thirst,
and swalloweth in the shoure,
Even so do I poore Arpalus,
whom Cupides pangs deuoure,
I till my soyle with gréeuous payne,
I lay the séede thereon,
[Page]And others come and reape the sheaues,
and laugh when I am gon:
Mine is the troublous winters toyle,
and theirs the sommers gayne,
The haruest falleth vnto his share
that felt no part of payne.
I fast whyle he doth féede apace,
I thirst while he doth drinke,
I mourne whilst he triumphs for ioy,
he swimmes whilst I do sinke:
He gathereth in the hoped gayne,
whilst I the losse endure,
He whole at hart, whilst I my gréefe
by no meanes may recure,
He shroudes him selfe in pleasant shade,
I sitte in open sunne,
He leapes as lammes in lustie lays,
I lye as one vndone:
I would but hir enioy at will,
I craue that is debarde,
He hath (I say) who can haue more?
his seruice is preferde.
Thus I procure my wo (alas)
in framing him his ioy,
I séeke for to assalue my sore,
I bréede my chéefe annoy.
As shéepe with woll be clad full thicke,
their masters haue the gayne,
[Page]And birds do buylde their nests in brakes,
and put them selues to payne,
Yet others haue the fruite you see
when that the birde is hatcht,
The nest remaynes, the birds are gone,
the chickens be dispatcht.
But I thinke it ordaynde in déede
by gryly goddes aboue,
That I should gape whilst others gayne
the guerdon of hir loue:
But sith that womans wicked will
is forgetfull of my wo,
And not the mightie goddes ordeinde
my destny to be so,
Then must I néedes complayne apace,
and curse that cruell kinde,
That in requite of my good will
hath shewde hir selfe vnkinde.
But what euer be the cause God knows,
hereafter I intende
To faune on them that faune on me,
to bow when other bend:
This one abuse shall make with spéede
me take the better kéepe,
On whom I fixe my fansies fast,
with whom I wake or sléepe.
Host.
If so you do you do but well,
it will be for your best,
[Page]He sayde no more, but went away,
he lefte alone his guest.
Bernarde le Vayne who when he sawe
that no man coulde discrye
The acte whiche he pretended had,
when no man there was by,
He drewe a glistering blade at once,
he sette it to his harte:
Tilt he had done that rufull déede,
it dyd not once departe.
This doone, Galfrido he comes home,
a mery man was hée,
Charinas smyling smirkyng lookes
had made him so to bee.
Where when he came in chamber foule
his ioyes were layde asyde,
He sawe his frende lye all for deade,
the bloudy swoorde he spyde,
Which had bereaued him of breath,
the letter there he founde,
He redde it out, when hée had doone
he layde it on the grounde,
He tooke the blade, he after went
in darkenesse for to lye,
Since that his frende was gone afore,
he past not for to die.
When as the host he hearde of this,
hymselfe he went and hoong,
[Page]An arina shée from window hye,
hir comely corps she floong.
Ynd Tibine too, when as he he heard
his daughter to be dead,
De stayed not, but with a knyfe
his hungry throate hée fead.
His wife, the mother to the mayde,
she ranne to riuer rounde,
Where as the crue of maryners
that instant tyme shée founde:
Shée tells to them these bloodie broyles
whiche she that tyme did sée,
Howe blood, by blood, and death by turnes
in Greece nowe for to bée:
These wordes once spoke, shée leaped in
there shée gaue vp the ghoste.
The Maryners they hoysed vp
theyr sayle and left the coast.
Not twice two leagues they had not gone,
(as many men did thinke,)
But that the shippe vnluckily,
there presently did sinke.
In déepest sea▪ their graue was made
the louers lye in towne,
Where Tibine hath a place, besides
Charina hath a roome.
FINIS
ꝙ Iohn Grout gent.
[Page]These will bée had in memorie
of all that haue them séene:
Nowe they be dead, let all men say,
God saue our noble Quéene:
That she may vanquishe traytors all,
whiche séeketh hir decay:
The good and godly so I knowe
continually will pray.
FINIS.
BE[?]