The Works of William Fowler :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Works of William Fowler

Secretary to Queen Anne, Wife of James VI. Edited with introduction, appendix, notes and glossary by Henry W. Meikle

Fowler, William (1560?-1612)

POEMS FROM PRINTED TEXTS

THE TRIVMPHS OF PETRARKE

THE TARANTULA OF LOUE

[A SONNET-SEQUENCE]

OF DEATH

MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS

CERTAINE PSALMES MEDITATED BE THEODORE BEZA

THE PEST

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS OF DOUBTFUL AUTHENTICITY

POEMS ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR.

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THE TRIVMPHS OF PETRARKE

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This text is taken from H. W. Meikle's transcription of the Drummond manuscript. Some sections of the text are repeated in the Hawthornden manuscript but these have not been reproduced here.

To the right honorable and most verteous Ladve Ieane Fleming, Ladye Thirlstaine, spous to the right honorable Sir Iohne Maetland, Knight, prencipall Secretair to the King his Ma.tie and great Chancellar of Scotland.

Sonnet to the authoure.

We finde by prwif that into euerie aige
In phœbus art sum glistring starr did shyne,
Who, worthye Scollaris to the muses saige,
Fulfild thair countreis with thair works dewyne:
So Homer was a sounding trumpet fyne
Amangst the Greikis into his learned dayes;
So Virgill was amongst the Romans syne
A spreit sublimed, a pillar of thair prayse;
So loftye Petrark his renoun did blayse
In tounge Italique in a sugred style,
and to the circled skyes his name did rayse;
For he by poems that he did compyle
Led in Triumphe lowe, chaistnes, death, and fame;
bot thow triumphs ouer Petrarchs propper name.

I. Rex.

E. D. in praise of M.r W.m Foular her freind.

The glorious greiks dois praise thair Homers quill,
And citeis sevin dois strywe quhair he was borne;
The Latins dois of Virgill vant at will,
And Sulmo thinks her Ouid dois adorne;
The Spanzoll laughs (sawe Lucan) all to scorne,
And France for Ronsard stands and settis him owt;
The better sort for Bartas blawis the horne,
And Ingland thinks thair Surrye first but dout.
To praise thair owen these countreis gois about:
Italians lykes Petrarchas noble grace,
Who well deserwis first place amangs that rout.
Bot Foular, thow dois now thame all deface,
No vanting grece nor Romane now will strywe;
Thay all do yeild Sen foular doith arrywe.

E. D. in commendatioun of the authour and of his choise.

When Alexander entered Phrygian land,
Achilles toumbe he weping did behoulde:
O happie wight who suche a trumpet fand!
And happie thow who hes his verteuis toulde!
Than happie Laura, thow by fame inroulde!
And happ to the, o petrarch, dois befall:
Thye glorie shee, hir praise thow dois vnfoulde.
How may thye fame, o Foular, than be small,
Who sings Dame Lauras praise, but feinzeit all?
This vertewis Dame, to quhome thy work thow gevis,
To hir of right These triumphs sing thow sall:
No Laura heir, bot Ladye Ieane it is.
O Ladye liwe! thy foular the extolls,
Whose golden pen thy name in fame Inrolls.

Sonnet in M.r W.m Foulars commendatioun.

I saw ones all the Muses in my thought,
With poets als bedeckt in scarlet gownes;
before with sacred troupe Mercurius brought
A youth vpon whose face was yet bot downes;
Thair saw I thame present him laurell crownes:
And with the rest the Toscan Petrarch came,
Who said: “my Sonne, receawe these right renownes
As he who dewlie dois deserve the same;
Bot more triumphant hes thow maid thy name
Vpon the Throne of Memorie to stand
To chwise for Patron suche a worthye dame,
Who onely Is the Laura of this land.”
Than Fowlars laude so lowde I herd them sound,
That through the world his praise sall ay rebound.

Ro. Hudsoun.

In commendatioun of the Translatour and the Ladye to whome thir Triumphs ar derected.

If pithye Petrarch wha thir Poemes pend
Hes purchest prayse promulgat ells by fame,
Reviving her quhais lyfe by death twik end,
And after death triumphant maid her name,
Than Poetts prease his Triumphe to proclame,
Whaise compast course conducted hes with cair
From Florence heir, and fraughted Petrarch hame,
Deckt with his Dames ascending in the air,
Into triumphe; and to augment It mair,
To yow, madame, thir Dames be all derect,
Wha (ane) including all thair vertewis rair,
Is with Triumphe abowe them all erect:
As Petrarch plaist triumphing heir we sie,
So Foular self, and yow, Madame, all thrie.

M. R. Cokburne.

Ane Summarye and a Sonett vpon the Triumphs and the Translatour.

If conquering Cupid, captane of Renoune,
Who chaines his captiwes to his chariot bright,
By Chastetie is chaist and beaten doune,
And by her vertew spoyled is of might;
If deathe, the daunter of the humane wight,
Triumphe vpon that Dame and doeth hir thrall,
Surviving Fame clames bot hir propper right
To liue through land or lak as doth befall:
Bot thow, O Tyme, that long and short we call,
The Triumphe of the rest thow wouldest retane,
Wer not Eternitie confounds tham all,
as nothing more Triumphant may remane.
Than what abyds to Fowlar thame hes pend?—
Eternitie, to which he dois pretend.

Th. Hudsoun.

[When matcheles Homere his Achilles sings]

When matcheles Homere his Achilles sings,
Achilles onely meaning to decore,
Him selfe to greater prayse by praysing brings,
And so begetts by geving all his glore;
So Fouler æternised hes his name
With noble Petrarch and his Laura's fame

A. Coluille.

The first triumphe of Loue.

The Argument.

Oure famous and morall Poet in these his morall Triumphs purposeth to descrywe the dywerss states and conditionis of Man, who being formed mortall is indowed with two principall powers and faculteis: The one is a sensuall appetite, the other is a naturall reasoun; The one of these haveing soveraintie in his youthe at that tyme when the senses hes most force and vigeur, The other agane when youth and lustines decayeth; Who, being deid, yit hes his memorie surviving by his famous actis through a more and longer Fame, which at last, evin as all other things vnder heaven, is ouercummed and vanquhished by Tyme which intoumbeth Fame in an eternall obliuioun; Yit seing that turning tyme is a thing bounded, limited, and in it self finit, dois remane subdewed by Immoweable Immortalitie, be whose ayd and help Fame is delyvered from the Iniurie of consuming tyme, dois liue as fermour in the revenewis and possessionis of Eternitie; For whiche causs The first Triumphe of our sensuall parts and youthlie affectioun is decyphered by Lowe. The seconde is of Reason, when we by more rypar and mature aige with the wings of discretioun dois subdew our affectioun; And this Is figured vnder the name of Chastetie in the Persoun of his ladye Laura. The thrid is of death, who defaces all the operationis of our appetite and power of our reasoun which wer wonnt to be wrought during our lyfetyme. The fourt is of fame, when men after thair death recreasis and refloorishis thair renoune. The fyift is of Tyme, that suppressis and extinguishis the same. The sext and last Is of Immortalitie, that ouercummeth all tyme, becaus of things that ar infinit thair is no proportioun. It is more to be noted that these first two

Triumphs of Lowe and chastetie ar in this lyfe the thrid, when our saule is in departing from our bodye, and the other thrie after it is frie of the same. Which sex Triumphs our Poet dois depaint partlye by visioun, partlye by Imaginatioun, particularlye interlaceinge the discourse of his estait and his ladeyis, and how her chastetie ouercame him, and agane death hir, yit how by fame she reviveth agane, when although that Tyme dois prease to dark the glorye of hir famous name, yit shall it be through Immortalitie Eternall.

I. Cap. i.

That tyme that did my sobbing sobbs and sorye sighs renew,
Through sweitt rememberance of that day on which my lowe first grew,
Which was the first beginnar of my panis and future smart,
and of my longsome martyrdome that martered had my hart,
The Sunn alreddye warmed had the Bull his doubled horne,
and Tithus wyfe, Aurora cleir, vprysing reade at morne,
All ycye and most frostye lyk had then hir selff adrest
vnto hir wonnted ancient place, hir auld frequented rest;
Lowe, greif, disdanis, and planing plaintis, and seasoun of the ȝeir
had caused me to a secreit place my self for to reteir,
Whair all the causis and fashereis that did oppres my hart
might thairby all affected be and all my doole auert.

Thair on the grass and plesant grene, my voyce be plaints maid waik,
my watching eyne orcumd through sleip at lenth sum rest did tak:

Quhair then I saw a Meruellous light, and in the same muche wo,
with litill Ioy, and sadnes full, and as me seamed, lo!
Amidst thairof I saw a duke, victorious, high of might,
Lyk on who to the capitoll triumphs in chariot bright.
Than I who was not muche acquent with such vnquented sight,
evin through this noysum wicked world so full of craft and slight,
In whiche to long I liwe, alace, and it of valeur voyde,
bot full of pryde, of graces bair, which vertew hes destroyde,
The habit proude, vnsene, vnvsd, all new and vn acquent,
I thair beheld with cairfull eyes both heavie tyrd and faint;
Through lingring lowe and drowsie sleip this sight I did discerne,
for that I had no other ioy than such a sight to lerne.

Thair than I saw four coursers fair, more whyte than anye snaw,
a chyldish boy and youngling raw in fyrie chair to draw,
Who in his hand his bow did beare, his arrowes be his syde,
as nother helmet nor yit targe thair pearceing shottis can byde;
Abowe his shoulders ther wer plaist twoe fleing feddered wings,
Imbrowdered with Ten thousand hewis, all bair in other things;

And round about him thair did stand and round about his chair
a number of suche mortall men that none can tham declair,
Whereof than some wer prisoners by him in battall tane,
some pearced by his pearcing darts, and som by him lay slane.

I wandring than to know sum newis of him and of his trane,
and so far fordwart marched on, all weryed all with pane,
Did than perceawe my selff evin one of such a flok to be,
when lowe from lyfe long tyme befoir had far dewyded me.
Than stayed I a whyle to see if onye one I knew
within the Thikkest of that troup that lowe so with him drew,—
Who is a king that fasting is, and houngrie ay for teares,
who makks men die, and daylie dois tham feid with lingring feares—
Bot none thair wes I culd discerne; and yit if thair was one
with whome I ones acquented was and now to death is gone,
His face wes chaingd and countenance by preasoun or by death,
whome crwell weird or fatall parks bereaued of his breath.
Thus as I wes astonished and looking thair and heir,
behould thair did rancounter me and to me did appeir
A sight and shaddow sumwhat less then that I saw befoir,
sad, pansiwe, dark, obscwir, and paill, vnknowen to me the moir,
Which be my name me cald, and said, “let no thing this thee mowe,
for all this Pompe and this Triumphe is purchessed by lowe.”
Whair at I merveld verye muche, and said in speaches plane,
“how kenst thow me, when swirlye I do know the not agane.”
He answerd than: “this cums to pass, and this dois so appeare,
evin through the burden of my bands and chanes that I do beare,
And be this thick congested air, and be this foggie mist,
which duskish is that so thy eyes with darknes dois resist;

Bot I am he evin he thy freind to the was traist and trew,
In thoskan bred, and thairin borne, whair first our freindship grew.”

His speaches than and freindlie words and reason which of ould
he wonnt to vse did quickly than this muche to me vnfould,
Discouering at that instant tyme that which his face did hyde,
as efterwart we satt ws doun eache one at others syde,
Whair he began to speik to me: “long tyme is sen I thought
To sie the heir with ws among, and in this band be brought,
Becaus that we evin from thy aige and tender yeares did sie
the verye sings within thy face that lowe shuld captiwe the.”
Than ansuerd I: “that is most trew: at first I was so bent
and trewlie I had yeild to lowe my hart and whole consent;
Bot oh! alace! these troubles cryes that lovers do sustane
afrayd me, and maid me from that course for to refrane;
So that I left my interpryse to which I first did tend,
bot in my breist the rev[i]uing raggs of lowe may yit be kend.”
So said I than, bot as yit as he did heir in what a sor[t]
I ansuer maid, he smyling than to me this did report,
“O my deir chyld, what flams for the be kendled and prepaird!”
bot oh! alas! at that tyme I did not his words regaird,
Which now so deiplie be imprent within my head eache one,
that none more fast nor solidlie be grawed in marble stone.

Syne I, whoe be my neirest aige which so dois rage and burne
alreddie learnd both toung and mynde the vse to speik and murne,
Demanded of this shaddow dark, “I pray the tell of grace
and courtesie what folk be these that marches in this place.”
Than he replyed: “within short tyme thow by thy selff sall knaw,
for of this cumpanye thow shalbe evin one of thame I shaw,

And be this lord thow salbe led, so fettred fast and bound,
this thow sall prowe, and yit not knaw how thow man cwir thy wound;
Thy fortoun Is, thy fates ar so, thy destineis and thy lott,
that this sal chanse or thow dissolue or yit vnloose that knott;
Thow first thy plesant face sall change, thy hairis sall first be gray,
er from thy neck and rebell feit these bands be tane away.

Bot yit that I may satisfie the in thy young desyrs,
what thow now crawist I will the tell, and shaw what thow requyrs.
And first of him I will declair that gretest is of state,
who dois at ones the lyfe of man and libertie abait,
The sam Is he who by this world is named bitter lowe,—
bot better sall thow know the sam and better sall it prowe,
When that his force sall the subdew and so sall captiwe the,
that ouer the he salbe lord, and thow his vassall be—
In youthe a meik and modest chyld, bot in his yeiris and aige
A cancard throward Tyran strong of fearsnes full and rage.
Woe! woe to him that kenst so weill! and thow the same sall knaw
before a thousand yeares be past: awake! for I it shaw.
He also gendred is and bred of Idilnes and slouth,
with wantonnes of mankynds mynd; his nurishing and his grouth
Is of suche thoughts within tham selfs dois seme both douce and sweit,
And deyfeid and made a god of pepill in discreit;

To whome he is thair only death, and whome with hardest lawes
dois vnder thousand chaines and nailles keip fast within his clawes,
Thay leiding on and drawing furth thair dayis and lingring lyfe,
sharpe, hard, seveir, and bitter als, all full of sturt and stryfe:

This is the principall of this pompe and heigh triumphant lord,
whose Triumphe is be many man so gloriouslie Decord.
But whom thow seest so lordlyke goe and staitlie first dois come
It is the Monark Cæsar greit, the empriour first of Rome,
Whome that ægiptian Cleopatra in ægipt land did binde
among the flouers with bewtye brawe and bountye of the minde;
Now she ouer him triumpheth so with reasoun, lowe, and right,
that he who did the world ourcum so with his manlye might
Suld be subdewed by hir agane, and he suche change might see,
And that the victors honour might the vanqueists glorye bee.

The nixt to him It is his sone, Augustus greit by name,
whose fervent lowe more loyall was and iustar more his flame,
Who though he might his Liuia by force hir gett and gane,
yet would he with maist humble suit vnto hir love attane,
And by hir husbands owen consent obtened hir at his hand,
suppose she was with chyld that tyme, to Ioyne in mariage band.”
The thrid that marched with these twoe wes Nero the vniust,
dispytfull, bloodie, cruell, fearse, and faythles, voyde of trust,
Who passed on with visage full of yre and proud disdane,
and yit for all [his] force and strenth Sabina hes him tane;
And Mark Aurelius lykwyse thair went with this valiant king,
full of all praise and honour als in glorye moist conding,
Whose golden toung and sacred breist full of philosophie
was for the luif of faustine maid a sing and mark to be.

“These other two that standeth by so fearfull be mistrust
Is Alexander Phȩreus and Dynneiss the vniust,
Tane bothe in lowe, and in thair lowe afrayed night and day,
Whose Ielous mynds through Ielousie did purches thair decay,
And this effect thairof did ryse. Now he who nixt comes on
Is that Æneas that lamentis vpone Ancandrum stone

Dame Creusas death, king Priams chyld, who reft from him his wyiff,
quha from Euander tooke his sone, and reft him of his lyiff:
Hes ever thow hard one reasoun of or yit of him to talk
that to his stepdames furious lust and bed wald no wayes walk,
Quhome Pnædra so with prayers prayd, with lovelie lookes and sight,
yit he thairto did talk no heade but shund that Dame by flight?
Bot woe! alace! his chaist intent, his goodlie thoughts and mynde,
did bring his deathe and als hir hate bothe terrible and vnkynde;
And yit thairthrough shee wrought hir death, be love she thairto ran,
a vengeance iust for Hippolite whome she exyled than,
For Theseus consent thairto and also Ariadne,
From whome hir sister reft hir spous and had from hir withhadden;
But yit not iustlye may shee plaine, nor think hir much misvsd,
she wrought her brothers dreidfull death, and father had abusd.
Some pepill be who others blames when they thame selfs suld blame,
and spyeth faultes in other men and seing not thair schame,
Yet he who maketh sports and play and dois in fraude delyte,
he suld not muche be greued be if he get quyte for quyte.”

Thair saw I then his father nixt with all his pompe and praise
Led prisoner in that Triumphe, on whome my eis did gaise
To sie him thair tuix sisteris two brought thair in that convoye,
And Ariadne of his death and he of Phȩdras Ioy.

“He that is nixt is Hercules, that martiall man so bould,
by Dianire and Iole and Omphale maid thrauld;
The other who dois fauour him is that Achilles stout,
quho in his lwiff had all his lwkt evin full of doole and dout.
Heir standeth lykwyse Demophon, with him dois Phillis mwiff,
quho for his stay and long abode did hang hir selff for lwiff.
This Iason is, with him his Dame, Medea, ætas chyld,
that followed him and lowe also through tounes and deserts wyild;
And looke how muche she guyltie wes aganis hir father deir,
or cruell in hir brothers death so voyde of shame and feir,
So wes she more crueller and mowed in furious Ire,
in grit despyte aganis Iasons love to sett his houss in fyre;
And not content with this reweng she forder of did go
To cutt in blads befoir his eyes the children of tham two;
Sche thought this rigour no thing greit, nor yit to hurt hir hart,
Nor yit beleued that by hir fact Reuenge did pass desert.”

Than after cam Hysiphyle, who semed to complane
that be the barbar lowe of one she was brought in disdane.
Than saw I hir who by hir face of bewtye beare the name,
fair Helene, Menelaus wyiff, the farest grecian Dame,
Who had with hir that Shiphirdd thair that to his great disgrace
did fixt his eyes and gaised vpon hir fair and hevinlie face,
Wheare through greit tempests of grit wars, grit murders wyld & strange,
did ryse thairbye, and all the world did wp and dounsyid change.
I after hard Œnome amangs these Troups full sad
weip for the death of Paris toe, and for his luiff die mad,
Thair lykwise Menelaus was who did for Helene mone
To sie hir thoughts not fixt on him bot on him that was gone;

And after was Hermione who for Orestes cryed
To succour hir from Pyrrhus hands who had hir bewtye spyed.

Thair also I did thair behould Accastus daughter fair,
Laodomie, muche makking for hir Protesilaus cair.
With hir I saw trew Argia, most fayithfull to hir spous,
that maid his funerallis for his corss even with his teares & vowes,
More iust, more trew, and fayithfull more, more loveing in effect,
than Eriphyle that for a chaine Amphiarus did detect.

O Petrark! heare the sad complants, the sighs, and grevous sounds,
That from these lovers miserable so miserablie rebounds,
Who ar about to rander wp to him thair spreits and lyfe,
that in suche sort thame governeth and gwydeth in such stryfe.
I can not all thair names reherse that wer about that chair:
not onlye men wes tham amongs, bot evin the gods wer thair;
Thair press and number wes so great quhom Cupid led in chanes,
that all the shaddowing Mirtell woods wer filled with thair tranes.

For thair I saw the Cyprian dame, dame Venus bright and fair,
with Mightie Mars, both neck, feitt, armes, bound be Vulcans snair,
And Pluto that Proserpina did revish to the hell,
who half the yeare did with hir dam, the other with him did dwell;
Thair Iuno Ielous did I see, and brawe Apollo bright,
that did despyse Cupidois aige, his youth, his bow, and might,
Yit for all that this youngling boy his puissance maid him prowe,
when in Thessalia he him shakt, and made him for to lowe.

What sall I say than to be breiff and in this passage short?—
behoulde these goddis and goddessis that Varro dois report,
All Prisoners and captiwed now, and charged with thousand chaines;
and with the same evin Ioue him self his charged leggs furth straines,
And goes infettered hard afore this high Triumphant chair,
subdewed be loue, and led by lowe, to mak his pompe more fair.

Finis i cap.

II. The Seconde Chapter of the First Triumphe of Lowe.

Alreddye these my weryed eyes all weryed so to vew
that brave Triumphe and princelie pomp that bravely did ensew,
And yit thairwith not satisfied, desyrous more to sie,
now heir and thair, to this and that, I did convert myne ee;
Which things for to repeate and shaw as I did sie thame frame
so short a houer will not permit nor thole I shaw the same.
Than did my hart from thoughts to thoughts by intercourse so pass,
when as I spyed two folkis a part togeather them amass,
And hand in hand, so ioyntlie ioyned, promening softlye went,
and reasoning in swetest words, they thus thair progres spent;
Thair vncouth habit light and strange did mak me much to muse,
and speache vnknowen to me, obscwre, which none bot they did vse;
Yit all thair talk and conference which was betuix these twane,
my marrow and interpretar and truiche man maid it plane;

And after that I knew thame bothe I nerer did approche,
And bouldlye did my selff inqyre, and on thame bothe encrochte,
Quair I perceaved the one to be a freind vnto our name,
The other ane adversar seveir and ennemie to the same.

Vnto the first I me adrest And thus began to say:
“O Massinissa, princelie prince, forgiwe me, I the pray,
Evin for thy Scipions sake, and hirs be whome I now begin,
that thow would pardoun what I speik and not be grewed heirin.”
Thairefter than he me beheld and speiking thus began:
“I willinglie than first would know quhat art thow for a man,
Sen thow [so] well in me hed spyed and dois so weill discerne
my double lowe vnto these twoe so stable and eterne.”
I humblie answered him agane: “O peirles prince of praise,
my pwir estate will not permit that thow me know these dayes;
Bass is my port, obscure I am, my meanes ar meane and might,
and from small flams that far ar plaist [thair] can not com grit light;
But thy renowme and royall fame through all the world arrywes,
whose force is suche that it coniones the hartis, the spreittis, and lywes
Of those that never hes the sene nor sal heirafter see
with knottis and bandes of lasting lowe that sall ay lasting be.
Now tell me if this gratious Duke in whose Triumphe yow go,
if that in peace and quietnes he dois conduct yow two,

Whiche couple makis me think such things to be so strange and rare,
and of the fayithfull rarest fayith that anye can declair.”

Than answered he: “thy toung dois prowe In naming me so prest
that thow dois knaw evin by thy self my state and all the rest;
Yit for to chaise far from my hart the doole which dois it grewe,
and so results evin by hir death who now no more dois lewe,
To thy requeist I yeild consent. I having than my hart
Vpone that high victorious Duke, whose lowe hes wrought my smart,
So stedfastlye implaist on him which no thing might supplant,
That Lelius in this respect with no small pane could vant,
Whairevir might his standart than or enseiȝe be found,
thair wes I lykwyse prest in armes to combat on the ground;
To him was fortoun fauorable, from him she did not swerve,
yit not so far as did his actis and doughtie deids deserve;
Suche valeur was implaist in him, suche manhoode in his mynde,
his lyke was never sene befoir, nor yit sall com behynde.
Now after that the Romane armes with honour wer besprent,
and sparpled to the vtmaist parts of east and occident,
With him I me adioyned then, and lowe with hir me ioyned
in such a sort that deathe hir self yit not hes vs disioyned.

Was never suche a sweitlie flame two lowers breists did burne,
nor never sall, as I belewe, for which I mone and murne,
And wepeth that suche few short nights which makis me cair and crye
suld all my pleasouris ouercross and my deserts all drye.
For being in vane conducted both vnto our mariage bed,
and all our iust and lawfull links to brokken be and shed,
And thairwith all my trew despysed, and no excuse prewaill
In this my fwrie and my lowe that did me so assaill,
Be him whose valour in it selff than all the world was more,
be him whose words wer holy all and full of fame and glore,
Be him who had no pittye on of both our sighs and wo,
be him, and by his holye speache, we parted wer in two.

From thence, alas, did ryse our doole: and yit, I must confes,
in doing so he hes done weill, suppose my Ioyes ar less;
I saw suche perfyte proofes of grace in him suche vertew flame
within the mynde of Scipio that ay sall liwe in fame:
And as the man is stony blinde that can not see the Sun,
even so Is [he] that not remarques the splendure he hes wun:
Greit iustice is to Louers trew a sore and greit offence:
so that his counsell grawe and wyse that stayed our gude pretence
Was evin a rok and craggye stone to brek that interpryse,
which we by force of fervent lowe amangs ws did dewyse;
By aige to me he brother was, by lowe my sone, I say,
By honour evin my father deir, quhome I must neids obey,
Suppose I was with heavie hart with sadnes full and wo,
and with a lowring countenance constraned to do so;

From whose command and counsell cam My Sophonisbas death,
quho seing hir selff so prosecute by romans spytefull wreath,
And almost brought within thair bands, she chused first to die
than to be brought in servitude, and throught thame shamed be.
And I my selff evin of hir death the minister even was;
she prayed me to do that whiche her prayers brought to pass;
So doing that whiche she desyred, and bringing it to end,
hawe wrought offence against my selff that would not hir offend;
So that I than hir sent a coupe, within a poysened drink,
with such a wofull sort of thoughts and sorrow yow may think,
As I do know, and she beliues, and thow thy selff may Trow,
if that suche coales of kendled flames hes kendled bene in yow.

And now the heareshipp which I hawe and partage be my wyfe
ar Onelie plaints, greif, [doole], and woe, and Long and Lasting stryfe;
In hir did rest my onelie hoipe, in hir wes all my bliss,
these hawe I lost for to conserwe my fayith but stane or miss.
But searche gif that thow now may see in all this trowpe and dance
A thing so wonderfull and strange and of so rare a chanse;
Considder this in tyme becaus the tyme is light and swift,
And thair is mater more than day that bydis a longer drift.”

As I was pansing full of reuthe and pittie for thame two,
and of the short tyme of thair lowe so wrapped full off wo,
Togeather with thair fervent fyre which feirslie had begun,
me thought my hart wes maid of Snow, and set against the sun;

And thuswayes musing in my mynd, I hard hir as she went
say to hir lowe, “this man me grewis, and makis me malcontent;
I firmelie keip within my mynd, and earnistlie in thought,
To hate him for his nationis saik who our distructioun wrought.”
Than this to hir I spak agane, “do this for my requeist:
O Sophonsiba, be at peace, and put your mynde to rest;
Your Carthage hes be these our handis bene wrackt and ruined thryse,
and at the thrid tyme all vpraisd and on the ground now lyiss.”
Bot quicklye she this spak agane, “shaw me this other thing:
quhen Afrik weipt, did Italye than ather laugh or sing?
For proofe heirof cast ower your bookes, and these your stories wryte,
And they will shaw gif yow enquyre, for thay of bothe Indyte.”
And thus our freind, hir lowe also, did smyling than depairt,
and to the thikkest of the Troup thair stepps they did convert,
So that these eyes, these lights of myne, that on thame gaised afore,
through multitude evin of the press culd not behoulde thame more.

Than as a man by doutfull wayes dois at adventure ryde,
now standis now restis at euerye place, and can not tell quhat syde
Or yit quhat way to turne him to, bot looketh heir and thair,
so that his doubtfull wandring thoughts his passage dois empair,
Evin so the number of these men who captiwed went with lowe
did mak my going doubtfull slow whair evir I did mowe.
And yit I had a more desyre and semed more content
To know how muche, and through what fyre, these lovers all wer brent:

Quhair on my left hand I had espyed, without the commoun way,
evin one who dois resemble him who earnistlye dois pray,
And cowittis things with greit desyre, and in his suit hes sped,
bothe blythe and blushinglie departs his former stepps to tred;
Evin in suche sort I saw that king who gawe his loving wyiff
and chosen spous vnto his sone to lenght his lingring lyiff.
O lowe! o lowe in high degre! O courtesie most strange!
O wounder greit more far agane to see hir in that change
And that excambion so content that she but blusht for ioy!
This marching on they to thair troupe did then thame selfis conwoy,
Conferring on thair sweit desyris, bot sighing that she cost
The Syrian scepter, and hir crowne and kingdome thairby lost.

I drew me neir vnto these spreitts that wer about to stay,
consulting how that thay might go and tak a nother way,
And saying to the formest man that narest wes my syde,
“I pray the now maist instantlye that thow wold me abyde;”
And he evin at the first resound of that my latine toung,
with troubled face depaint with Ire vnto a musing doung,
Restraned his stepps to know who cald, and quiklie did dewyne
what wes my will and my desyre, and so me answered syne:
“I am Seleucus heir, with me Antiochus gois, my sone,
who had grit warrs against yow all, and bothe by them vndone;
Bot right nor reason contrar force hes nather rowme nor place;
and this is she first wes my wyiff whome now my sone dois brace,
Whome I did quyte and did resing to be his lauchefull wyiff
To free from death and chase away the danger of his lyiff,
To whiche his lowelie hid desyris and closet secreit flame
conducted him, and so that gift wes lawchfull than but blame.
Stratonica she named is, and so our chanse and lott
is, as thow seist, indiuisible, and, by this sing, the knott

Of this our long and lasting lowe is yit so tewche and strong
that no thing that can seperat which first was ws among;
Schee was content to quyte to me the kingdome, I my wyiff,
than my belowed deirlye spouss, and he agane his lyiff;
So warlye went he in his lowe, so far by reason furth,
that he more maid him so estemed of one and other wurth;
And if it had not bene by skill, by help and ayd discreit
of that expert physicien, with practise full compleit,
Who well espyed where lay the caus that did his helth doun ding,
his youth, evin in hir flowris, had endit and finisht in hir spring:
For he in scilence and in lowe did ryn vnto his death,
his feitt him failed, his voyce was waik, his powers, lyfe, & breath;
Fates caused him lowe, his vertew maid him hyde It to the end,
and my paternall pietie the succour hes extend.”
Thus as he spak, than as a man that dois mak change for change
of hailsing others mutuallye dois boythe by other range,
So at the end of these his words he turned his stepps and heill,
that I with grit difficultie might bid him than fairweill.

Than after that from these my eyes the shade away had gone,
which wer with pittie heavie maid, I sighing progrest one,
For that my hart from these words was not vnbound nor losed,
bot reuthfullie remembered that which he to me disclosed.
At last to me that tyme wes said, “thow standeth to to muche
vpone one thought in dywers so and of varietie suche,
Whiche shortnes of the slyding tyme, as thow to weill dois knaw,
will not permit in large discourse that I thame to the shaw.”
Not Xerxes to the seis of grece conwoyed suche a band
of armed men by Nawall host as thair with thame did stand,

Evin suche a trowpe of lowers all, both nacked, bound, and tane,
as that my eyes vnable wer to suche a sight sustane;
They wer in toungis so different, and of suche dywers landis,
as scarslye I evin one can name of thousands led in bandis,
So that the storye whiche I wryte, and Poeme I compyle,
sall be of these, and thame a few, whome I thair knew that whyle.

And Perseus first sall prease in place, whose lowe maid me desyre
to knaw how that Andromeda did sett his hart on fyre,
And how in Æthiopia land that virgine, blak of hew,
did with hir eyes and crisped hair him to his lowe subdew.
Nixt him wes thair that lower vane quhose bewtye was his wrack,
Who through to muche desyre wes quyte destroyed and all sackt,
And onelie pwir maid by his welth and by abundance skant,
and now transformed in a flour that seid and fruitt dois want.
Besydis him was that Echo nymphe who for Narcissus cryed,
whose corse wes changed in a stone, and voyce in rocks was dryed.
With hir wes Iphis in that rank, so bent vnto hir deathe,
That hate hir selff for others lowe, and reft hir self of breathe;
And manye other damned soules condamned to lyke pane,
and in thair marche did all lyke cross and fortoun hard sustane,
A Pepill who through to muche lowe did lothe in lyfe to liwe,
through rigour of thair cairles dames whose pryde thame most did griwe:
Quhair also I did thair perceawe of this our aige ane ost,
whose names for to recount or tell wer work and labour lost.

With thame wer those whome lowe hes maid Eternall marrowis two,
Trew, iust, and fayithfull Ceice, and constant Alcio,
Who at the borders of the seis, and at the shoers his syde,
did big thair nests evin at the best and calme of wintar tyd.
Along from thame wes Esacus who pansiwe thair did stand,
and searching for Eperia, now sitting on the land,
Than on the watrie floods agane, and now to mount more highe,
and Sylla, Nisos cruell chyld, far from hir father flie.
Thair than I Atalanta saw, be aples thrie of gould
and with the bewtye of a face ourcummed and contrould;
With hir, hir lower, Hippomenes, who far abowe the rest
of all that Troupe of lowers wer and wretched rinners best,
Who only by his valeur did hir vowes and othes supplant,
And Ioyfull of the victorie so marching on did vant.

Among the faboulus lovers vane which poetts dois reherse
was Galatea, atis eik, and Polipheme so ferse,
Who Atis slew whils as he did within hir bosome ly;
and so with noyse and rumour greit these thrie than passed by.
Thair Glaucus fleting on the wawes to enter in that band
but Sylla whome he did desyre and with such ȝeale demand,
And blameing Circe named her a lower fell and ferss;
with them wes then these other two which Ouid dois reherss,
Canence with hir Picus chaist, sumtyme one of our kingis,
bot now by Circe maid a fowle that chatters and not singis,
Whose sorcerye did change him from his name and browdered robbs,
for which hir weilbeloued lowe ay sighing waillis and sobbs.

I saw lykwise Egenas teares, and Scylla haif for bones
in place thairof a hard sharpe rock, that sounds, that rores and grones,

And from hir name the crage so called, so that vnto that sie
whair it is plaist dois ever grow greit shame and infamie.
I Also Canace beheld who haveing in one hand
a fatal, nacked sworde, as did hir father hir command,
And in hir right a Pen to wryte in doole and deip dispair,
and to hir lower than hir lowe hir dolent deathe declair.
With hir wes thair Pigmalion, with him his dame did byid,
and thousandis moe, who singing then wer at the fountanis syid
Of Aganipp and Castalie; whear then I saw in end
Cydippe with that aples scorned Accontius did hir send.

Finis.2. cap.

III. The thrid chapter of the first Triumphe of Loue.

So Muche my hart wes then amaised, so much of mervell full,
that I thair stoode, euen as a man that stupid stands and dull,
And can not speik, bot holdis his toung, and lwikis if anye man
be neir of yit him round about to giwe him counsell than,
When that my shaddow and my freind began thus for to say:
“quhat dois thow now, quhat looks thow on, quhairon thy thoughs dois stay?
Knawis thow not weill that I am one evin of this troupe and band
whome lowe dois leade, with whome I go, that can not him with stand?”
Than answered I: “my brother deir, thow best my state dois knaw,
and als the lowe that in my breist dois to suche kendling grow,
Whose force is suche that evin what thingis of the I suld requyre
togeather with suche lyke affairis ar stayid by greit desyre.”

Than he thus spak agane and said: “alreddie I hawe knawen,
thought thow through Silence speik no thing, what thow woldest hawe the shawen.
Sen thow wold know what folk be these and pepill thow hes spyed,
I will the tell if to my toung the vse be not denyed.

Behold that greit and glorious man so honoured of all,
he Pompei is, that leidis with him Cornelia with all,

Who with hir salt and wattrye teares condooles his dolent death,
which Ptolome that vyld did caus through terrour more then wreath.
He whome thow seis more farrer off is that greit valiant greik,
conductour of the valiant ost, And heir Egistus eik,
That murderer, adulterer, that poltroun, paliard preist.
This cruell Clytemnestra is, that cruell godles beist
Be whome it may now weill be knowen, and be thame we may fynde
if lowe inconstant be and vane, Incensat, furious, blynde.
Bot yit behold yon other Dame of gretar fayith and lowe,
that fayithfull Hypermestia fair, and so did Linus prowe.
See Pyramus and Thisbe both to stand the shadow by,
with Hero at the window, and in seis Leander ly.
This shaddow that thow pansiwe seis is that Vlisses whome
his chaistfull wyiff dois long exspect and prayeth to come home,
Bot Circes that enchantiress through lowe dois him detane,
and dois empesh his fordwart stepps, and maks him stay agane.
This other whome thow dois behold it is Amilcars sone,
bold Hanniball, who stoutlye did with the Romans conione,
Whome Rome thought not in manye yeares nor Italie might abaise,
yit hes ane abiect woman him of Pulia led in lace.

Sche that with hair both cutt and short dois follow so hir lord
was quene of Pontus, that for lowe dois now to this accord
With servile clothis and suche attyre Mithridates to serwe,
that in his Iornayis and conflicts from him did never swerwe.

This other Dame Is Portia bould, Brutus fayithfull wyiff,
that sharps hir sword hard by the coalis and ends by tham hir lyiff;
Thair also Iulia thow may sie, that weped for hir spous,
for that vnto his second flamms he more Inclynes and bowes.

Now turne thyne ene and thame conwert vnto that other syde,
whair our greit father, Iacob scorned, dois with these folke abyde,
And yit for all that dois not forthink or mened from hir to swerwe
for whome with constant loyall lowe he twyse sevin yeres did serwe.
O lywelie lowe! O force most strange that dois not only lest,
bot growis be griefis, and alwayis Is by troubles more encrest!
Behold the father of this man, with him his guidshir toe,
departing from his duelling place, and Sara lyk to doe.
Than after lwik how cruell lowe and weked Dauid wan,
enforceing him to do that work from whence he after than
Within a dark and secreit cawe, withdrawing him a part,
weipt for his faults and for his sinnis in anguish of his hart.

Behold also how suche a mist and suche lyke darkned clwde
dois so obscure his sone his face and darknes owershrude,
And cower the praise of all his witt, and mak the sam be smored,
which publisht wes through all the world by our supernall lord.
Than Amnon spye whoe at one tyme did Thamar lowe and hate,
and how she Then to Absalon hir brother did repeate,
Disdanefull and maist dolorous, the caus of all hir woe,
his raging lust and hate agane his kyndnes to ourthroe.

Before a litill thow may see one stronger more then wyse,
I Sampson meane, who with his wyiff did foolishly dewyse,
And through hir clattering trifling tryes than she did than delair,
did putt his heid within hir lappe, that cutt away his hair.

Beholde also how that amangis so manye speares and swordis,
loue, sleip, and als a wedow fair, with manie plesant wordis,
And with hir cumlye clenelye cheikis, accumpaned with hir maid,
hes killed holipherne the proude, and vengeance him repayid,
And thay returnyng to thair toun, and in thair handis his heid,
at midnyght gevin god the thankis, to which thay haist with speid.
See Sichem, and with him his bloode, how that the same is mixt
with circumcisioun and with death, and with the slaughter nixt
OF bothe his father and all these that pisht aganis the wall.
o force of lowe both strong and greit that maid suche suddane fall!
beholde Assuerus in what sort he begging seikis his lowe,
that he in peace may heir possess, and how he dois remowe
And so vnloose his former knottis, and frie him of these bandis
that bound him fast, I meane his wyiff that keipt not his commandis,
And how that be ane other knott agane he hes him bound,
whiche onlye is the salve that may in contrare lowe be found;
And all suche malice to efface thair is no better thing,
Euen as a wadge and other doith and nail and naill furth bring.

Now wold thow sie within one hart the bitter with the sweitt,
and lothesomnes with lowe agane evin in one mynd to fleit,

Behold Herodes, cruell, fearse, of kyndnes full and rage,
whome lowe with crueltie and hate so long tyme dois assuage;
Regaird how that the first dois burne and lye in fervent flame,
and after how he gnawes [his] hart in memorie of the same,
And calling for his Marion, which than dois not him heir,
To late he now repented him of suche his rage seveir.

Beholde agane these other thrie both good of lyfe and lowe,
Deidamia with Arthemise and Procris so did prowe;
Now sie lykwyse these thrie so curst and toucht with raging flame,
Semiramis, with Biblis eik, and Myrrha, voyde of Schame,
how ewerye one of thame appeiris for shame to blush and stay,
that thay can hawe no licence for to walk with tham that way,
But for to tak the throwen streit, and evin of that denyde.
beholde that Troupe that fillis with dreames the papers on all syd,
Quhose workis dois mak the vulgar sort to reid thame and requyre,
and vanelye through thair erring dreames so for thame haif desyre,
These ar the wandring loveing knights of Arthurs table round,
wheare Geneure with hir Lancelot with others may be found,
As Tristan with Isota fair, the king of Cornuallis wyiff,
And als that counte of Aremine who lost for lowe thair lyiff.”
Lord Paul of Matatestas houss, and Franschescina fair
in makking mone and sad lamentis and wailing marched thair.

Thus as my freind and shaddow spak I at that tyme did stand
Evin as a man that is afrayid for ill that is at hand,
And trembleth fast before he heir the Trumpet shaw his dome,
and feilis his dolent deathe befoir the same by sentence come:

So was my state evin at that tyme; my face such cullour keipt
as one drawin furth evin of his grawe wherin he long did sleip;
Quhen than with palish face and wan befoir me I espyde
a lywelye Nymphe, more fairer than a dow, stand by my syde,
Who thair me twik and captiwe led; and I who wold have sworne
To haif defended well my selff, and men of armes ourborne,
Was with the smyrcling of her eyes and smyling of hir face
and with hir plesant gracious words than snared in hir lace.

As I was thinking on this thing, and for the treuthe to shaw,
My freind more nerer did approche and towardis me did draw,
And lawghin rounded in my eare (whose laughter caused my wo
That at my losses he suld smyle) and thus began he so:
“Now hes thow licence for to speik evin quhat thow [ ] and pleis,
To shaw how lowe evin in his moode dois both the pane and eiss,
Sen now we both saill in one bark, and both one liquour lik,
and bothe Together marked lyke and touched with one pik.”
I Than becam as one of those who more is discontent
of others happ and better lwck and prosperous event
Than of my loss and haples chance, and so more grewed wes I
when as I did the Dame me led in peace and fredome spy;
And after as to late my loss and dommage I did knaw,
so from the bewtye of my dame I maid my death to grow.
For brunt with lowe and with his flame, and with Inwy enrage
And Ielousie was than my hart which no thing culd asswage;
Nor wold I turne my staring eyes away from hir fair face,
bot as a man by feawers weakt so semed I in that cace,

Who, thought he seik and feaverous be, yit hes a gredie will
For that whiche to his taist is sueit bot to his helth is Ill;
So that to anye other Ioy whiche more might glaid my mynde
my eares war deaffe and stopped bothe, my eyes wer shutt and blynde
In following hir whose steppis me led by manie doubtfull pace,
so that in thinking on the same I tremble yit, allace.

For ay since syne my eyes through teares wer on the ground fixt wak,
my hart was sad and pansiwe ay; the Ins that I did tak
And solitarye resting place was then the wellis and woods,
The fountanis, rivers, mountanis, hillis, the craggie rokkis, and floods;
Sensyne the Papers and the scrollis which I haif sperst alwayes
with thoughts, with teares, with Ink, to pen my panis and paint hir praise,
Sometymes through lowe, sometymes through wreath, I forced was and spyte
To teare them all in peaces small, and ower agane to wryte.

Sensyne I know how lowe retanis within his cloyster now
Doubt, dreid, dispair, and deip distrust, and hope with constant wow:
So that the man that weill wold knaw the feates and fruittis of lowe,
the panis, the plagues, the lingring tymes, that lowers hourlie prowe,
Gif he can reade, than lift his eyes vnto my forrett now,
whan he sall sie all these effectis fair writtin on my brow.
And hir I sie so cairles walk, that fair and gallant dame,
not toucht with rewth for all my panis, bot cairless of the same,

And rekles bothe of them and me, she taketh no account
Now whither I sink or yit I fleit, I fall or yit I mount;
Sic graces now dois grow in hir, such bewtye she dois shroude,
that of hir vertew now she gois and of my spuilȝei proude.

And on the other part I spy, and seis on other syde,
Evin lowe him self to stand in feare, and from hir him to hyd;
Althought he winneth all the world, he can not hir subdew,
so that past hope of help am I, nor lowe can mak reskew;
In my defence thair none that standis, no succour comes to me
and in my ayde no boldnes can nor force can mak supplie.
For lowe him self in whome I hoipe and confidence dois byde,
whose custume is most cruellie to flyte if lowers hyde,
And fleish with myne thair skin from thame, [dois] dalley with his dame,
and flattringlye carressis hir, yit cairis she not the same;
Nor anye be that more or less may force yit or constrane
This Rammage and rebelling mayde with lowe for to remane,
Bot going be hir self allone, and frie from lowe his lace,
with drawis hir from his enseingȝe a long and distant space.

And trewlye in hir bewtye shee, and in hir port and pace,
and in hir smyles and high disdanis, and in hir wordis and grace,
Sche in this sort surpassis so, compared with other dames,
evin as the sun the litill sparkis excedeth be his flames;
So fair appeiris hir hair to be that they do seme of goulde,
all shaking softlye by the winde which dois thair tress vnfoulde;
Her eyes lyke hevinlie lamps and lighs that so inflams my hart,
that through thair grace I am content that they incress my smart.
Quho can with hir behaviour and angelyke adress,
with maners meik and custumes high, compair or yit expres?

For he who would in poeme prease condinglie to report
hir vertewus deidis and glorious acts, I think he suld come short:
It far my learning dois surpass, my wawering pen dois shake,
my style, my verse, my voyce, my phraise ar owerbass and wake;
No pen can more depaint hir praise or yit aduance hir glore
than litill strandis the largest seis dois be thair course mak more.

O thingis most new, and never sene befoir vnto this day,
nor more bot ones, nor after sall thair glorye more bewray!
It is a thing sall never be, hir lyke sall never cume,
and on hir vertew and hir grace all voyces salbe dume.

So do I finde my self now bound, and she in fredome frie,
and I exclaming in this sort, “O starr, how gydis thow me?
O cursed starr! o fates vniust! what thingis do ye portend?
how chanseth It that for my panis I rype no fruit in end?”
I day and night bewaillis my woe, and ay dois call and pray
To hir quho cairis not for my moane, nor yit to heir will stay,
So that with grit difficultie, with trawell, toyle, and pane,
I skarslye for ten thousand wordis can one obtane agane.
O law seveir of Cupidis court! yit thought it crooked be
and inderect, yit must we all to follow it aggrie,
Becaus It is so ancient, so vniuersall ould,
that it conioynes to the heavin earth so law & could,
Whose potent power and strong effect not onlye men hes proven,
bot evin the Manhoode of the gods by it hes bene ourthrowen.

And now sen lowe hes me subdewed I knaw and haif espyed
how that he dois the hart of man far from his corss dewyid,

And how he can gif pane and peace, long lasting weiris with trewis,
and doolefull tydingis to dispair, and than more better newis,
And how he forces outwardly men for to hyde thair woe,
when Inwardly thair breistis brunt, suppose it seme not so;
And how evin in one instant tyme the blwid in haist departis,
and quiklye from his vanes dois rin and in his cheikis convertis,
If so it chance that anye feare dois than his mynde posses,
or shamefastnes constrane him blush or terrour him oppres.
I knaw how that the serpent lyis all hid within the floure,
The snaris, the girnis, the Nettis, and baitts, the loweris dois devoure;
And also how he Ielous walkis and sleipis in dreid and doubt,
suspecting ay his riwall foe by lowe shuld thrust him owt.
I also know how this my lyfe dois languish by dispair,
and how I dieing never die, nor death can end my cair;
I also know how for to trace the fitsteppis of my foe,
and how for feare to find hir syne I stand in dreid than goe;
I also know in quhat a sort and quhat a guyse so strange
the lingring lower in his lowe dois him transforme and change,
And how among so longsome sighs and shortned smylingis I
can change my state, my will, and hew, and cullour sone thairbye;
And how to liwe and stand but lyfe, when as my wofull hart
Is soundred from his spreit and soule, her lyiflie vitall part.
I also know how lowe hes led me in this danse this whyle
a thousand wayes and vane deceittis my selff for to beguyle;
I also know how for to burne in following so my fyre
wheare it dois flie, and how at hand so fresis my desyre,
And farder of dois rage agane, and burne in gretar flame,
and nearer than how I congeall and fresis in the same.
I also know how lowe dois bray and rout abowe the mynd,
and how it dois all reasoun smore and chaise vnto the mynd;

I also know the dywers artis that lowe through craft dois vse
For to subwert the lowers hart, and how him to abuse;
I know how that a gentle mynd Is suddanlie disgraist,
and how that be a litill Cord it stronglie Is vnlaist
When it is left vnto hir selff, disarmed of reason than,
and when none Is to mak defence aganis the lustis of man.
I also know how luiff dois shutt, and than dois flie away,
how that he boastis and stryketh both, and puttis all in a fray;
I also know how that he rubbis and playis the theif perforce,
how that he revis and spuilȝeis all his pillage but remorce;

And how instable is his wheill, how doubtfull is his hoipe,
how certan is his wrack and woe, and how his course and scope
Is for to mak such promesis that ar of fayith dewoide,
by which the trew and fayithfull hart is scorned and destroide.
I also know how in his bonis the raging flam dois lurk,
how in his vanis the hiddin hurt dois his consumptioun wurk,
From whence dois cum his oppin death and fyre through smoakis exprest,
that secreitlie in secreit did harbour in his breist.

In end, for one conclusioun, I know the lowers lyfe
to be inconstant, wandring, vane, and full of sturt and stryfe,
both feirfull and bothe hardye to, and how dois lowe repay
the litill sweit with bitterness so long to lest for ay;
I know thair custumes, maners, vse, thair sighis, thair gronis & song,
thair brokken words, thair suddane peace, thair silence, dombe and long,
Thair shortest smylis, thair long complaints, thair teares, þair grevous fall,
thair pleasouris with displeasour crost, thair honye mixt with gall.

Finis 3. cap.

IV. The 4. Chap. of the Fi[r]st Triumphe of Lowe.

Quhen after that my fortoun had and lowe me forwards thrust
within ane others force and strenght, and so had brought to dust
And cutt in two the vains, and nervis, and fredome of my will
and libertie, which long tyme I frie remaned still,
Than I who was afore als frie and wyld as hony hart
was quiklyie tamed and sone subdewed with litill pane and art,
And brought to knaw the lukles lott and vnexspected chanse
with these my marrowis miserable whome lowe led in his danse.
Than did I spye thair Trawell, panis, thair cummer, and lament,
The throwin wayes, the crwiked lanis, the paith, and stratis they went,
And be what art and laubour they conducted thairto wer,
quhair all that lowelie flok and troupe did then so wandring err.
And quhillis I rold in ewerye syd my gasing restles ene,
gif I culd spy thair any man whose fame so cleir hes bene
Be historeis of ancient tymes, or Poems in our dayes,
in whiche more late and recentlie included is his praise,

I saw evin then fair Orpheus, of him I first will tell,
who onelie lowed Euridices, and following hir to hell
Obtened hir with him agane, yit lost hir thane agane,
And being deid yit callis on her with toung most could in vane

I Alceus saw, so pregnant, promp, of lowe that culd indyte,
And Pindar with Anacreon that of the same did wryte,
Who had thair muse, thair rymes, and verse all penned in behowe
Of Cupids court, whose Poems lay within the Port of lowe.
I Virgill saw, and him about his brawe companions stwide,
brawe Poettis of ane high ingyne and of a mirrie mwide,
Whose works this world so estemes that they them first elect,
extolling thame in highest praise and honorable respect,
Ouidius with Corinna caught, and Tibull, Plania,
Propertius who so whotlie song in praise of Cynthia;
Catullus also thair I spyed, whome Lesbia led in lowe,
with hir that lerned Sapho greik, that passionis lyke did prowe,
Resounding with hir noble voyce, with Poettis who wer thair,
hir swetest songs, and shew hir style to gallant be and raire.

So lwiking heir and thair agane, to this and to that syid,
vpone ane flowrye plesant grene I quiklye than espyid
A Pepill speiking on to walk, and reasoning as they went:
and so I saw than first appeir evin Dant incontinent
With Beatrice, Seluaggia nixt, and Cin of pistol bred;
and Guido of Aresso was with thame in that trowpe led,
That semed for to be displeased, and angrie, malcontent,
that he was not thair first with lowe and formest with him went;
With them two other Guidos wer and those of Scicilie,
and that gude natured Bolonguese, a honest man was he;
Sennicio with Franceschin thair lykwyse did tham shaw,
the gentlest men and courtesest that evir men did knaw.
And after such a sort of folk In vulgar clothis I spyed,
and habittis of suche strange attyre that marched on that syd:
Amongst them first they wer in preiss Arnaldo Daniell,
a maister gritt in Cupids court that did in lowe excell,
Who yit dois by his plesant speiche and his Inventionis new
renown his natiwe countrey soyle by these thair sight and vew.

Thair also was whome lightlye lowe with litill pane ourcame—
on Peter, and Arnaldo wes the other of less fame.
Thair also was these sort of men subdewed by gretar war,
two of one name, Rombaldi cald, that song in mountferrar
Vpoun thair Dames, fair Beatrice; with him Giraldus, loe,
and aged Peter of Averne; with him was Felchetto
That gaue the name to Marseils toun, and did from Genis awfer,
and changed his countrye, clothes, and state, and better had for war.
Giaufre Ruda also was who more through lowe than wreath
did vse the speid of saillis and ores to speid his fereth death;
And also thair that William was who with his lowers songs
dois frie his name from all decay, that muche his praise prolongs;
Amerigus, and Bernard to, and Hugo with Arselme,
and thousand moe who vsed ther toungs for lanss, sword, bukler, helme.

And now since it is semelie than my dollour I dewyd,
I hawe conwert my daseled eyes all weryed to that syd,
Wheare I haif spyed my fayithfull freind, good Thomas that dois grace
Belongna toun with lasting fame, and makis his praise encress,
And by his songs and sonetts so Messina makis to grow
more fatt in praise, and ratcher more, and more in brawer show.
O fleing sueit! o faiding ioy! o weryed panefull Lyfe!
who is it that dois vnto me procure this sturt and stryfe?
Who is it hath than tane from me my freind and onelie Ioy?
who quiklye now befoir his tyme dois him to grawe conwoy,
But whome and but whose cumpanie, such now is my mishapp,
that I can nather space nor pase nor forther go a stapp?
Well now I knaw which thing I might hawe better knowen afore,
how that the lyfe of mortall men, whairin so muche we glore

And lyketh in the same to liue, is but a stage of noyes,
a seik mans dreame, or foolis conceat, and fable full of toyes.

I was a litill sumwhat furth owt of the vulgar way,
when Socrates and Lelius did first thame selfis bewray;
With thame it me behowed than to walk and farder go,
and searche for leirning in thair workis and for thair scyence know.

O what abundance of my freinds with vertew so decord
wes led at that Triumphant chair whose gifts non can record,
Whose ornat talk and eloquence nor witt can none reherse
in facill prose, in loftye style, in ryme, and staitlie verse!
And with these two I walking went, and searched dywers wayes,
to thame I opned wp my plaintis and hurt my hart assayes;
From thame no nather tyme nor place sall evir me dewyde,
bot as I wish to do I hoipe with tham so long to byde
Vnto the last gaspe of my breath, and never to reteir
vntill the Cynders of my corss be burned on the pire.
For with these two I hawe obtened that glorious laurell bough
which dois the Tempills of my heade environ and my brow,
Whiche hes perchance befoir the tyme my forrett so bedeckt,
in mynde of hir whome yit I lowe and dois so muche respect.
Bot yit of hir whose praise I paint and fillis my hart with thought,
I never culd get branche nor leaffe which I with service sought,
Nor anye pleasour culd obteane, so stable wes the rwit
and so vniust to which she leaned that I culd rype no fruitt;
From whense althought sumtymes my greiff and grevous doole did ryse,
as his who hes ressaued offence to stay his interpryse,
Yit she on whome my eyes did gase so rewled and ranged my will,
that now no more I do regrait that she refused me till

A mater swir of stately style and of heroicall verse
To which no dolts nor ignorantis can yit attane or perse,
Nor yit suche Poets of suche stuff of base and vulgar ryme,
may well conceawe how I did see Cupido tane that tyme.
But first to tell I will proceid, and first I will recount,
how lowe so leading ws in linkis did so ower ws surmount;
Than after this I sall furth shaw what he of hir sustaned,
and how my Dame did vanqueish lowe and all his artis disdaned.
This work and subiect is not myne, nor only maid by me,
bot long before by Orpheus pend and Homer semes to be.
Than followed we the noyse and sound of Cupids purple penns,
and of his fleing horss that ran through thousand dykis & denns,
And through a thousand hillis and daillis; at last in end we came
vnto his mothers countrie whair soiorned then that dame,
And in whiche way whair we through brayes, through brearis & busses went,
through montanis, medowis, hillis, and wooddis, our chaines did not relent,
Nor yit wer we vnloused of thame, but hurlet, meinȝeit, riwin,
as none of ws knew whair he was, nor wist how he wes drewin.

Beyond whair that Egeum sea dois sigh and murne so oft
thair lyes ane Ile delectable, more plesant, plane, and soft
Than anye vther Ile that is bothe wett and washt with see,
or warmed with the Sunnye beames or yit enflammed be.
In midst thairof thair is a hill of shaddow full and grene,
with sawour sweit and fragrant sent, with water sweit & clene,
Whose vertew is and whose effect to tak owt of the mynde
all sad and pansiwe blottis & markis that hes with greif it pynde.

This is the land wherwith so much fair Venus is content,
which consecrat was to that Quene that tyme be mens consent
Whillis as the treuth was lying hid and veritie vnshowen,
and chryist his incarnatioun was not reweilled nor knowen.
And yit albeit this day it be of vertew leane and bair,
yit dois it holde and it retenis some custumes keiped thair,
That seames to these whose reasoun lowe & vertew dois exclude
both pleasant, sweit, and verye douce, and bittar to the gude.

Thair than Triumphed ower ws that souerane gentle lord,
and caried at his golden chair thair coupled in a cord
These whome he twik in circling so the world round about
Evin from the Inds to Thule Ile, the westmest part without;
Thair in that place he did expose his spoyle, his pray, and gane,
and from his bosome pulled furth the Louers thoughtis most vane.
He had thair Vanitie in his armes, thair Sudden fleing Ioy,
thair constant woe, thair solide greiff, thair stable firme anoy,
Thair roses gathered in that tyme when wintaris blast dois boast,
Thair Ice evin on the hatest dayes, at Midsommer thair froist;
He also had before him than Distrust and doubtfull hope,
and bakward on his shulders than agane he caryed bound with rope
Repentance with displeasour sore, and anguish with anoy,
most lyke the same that wes in Rome & in the waisted Troy.
The valley quhair this Triumphe was with murmour did rebound
off watters, brookes, of Birdis and fowles, that gaif a clamorous sound,
Whose bankis wer all imbroudered with flouers of variant hew,
some whyte, some grene, and some agane red, ȝellow, & some blew;

And thair besydis cleir riwers from so lywelie fountanis ran,
whair than vpone the colde freshe herbis the Sunn to shyne began.
Thair also was a shaddow thick of Treis both high and fair,
owt of the which than did cum owt a sweit and breathing air;
And after when the wintar tyd dois mak the seasoun coulde,
yit thair the Sun so dois his flames most temperatlie vnfoulde,
And so dois mak the place and ground and meits almost lew warme,
and through a Idilnes all slow the simple hartis incharme.
And as that place so wes the tyme and seasoun than I say,
quhen as the Æquinoctiall lyne dois victor mak the Day,
And when that Progne laughs and chantis and dois at morning spring,
Returning to hir sister than on thair lowers to sing.
O trustles stay! o stayles fayithe of all our chanse and lott!
for to resist or to withstand that lord It vailed nott:
within that place, that seasoun, tyme, and in that instant hower,
whaire lowe required ws from our eyes at larger dew to power,
He in that hour that place and tyme whome vulgar dois adore
wald than Triumphe in chariot bright as victor full of glore.
So thair I saw what service he and servill death dois prowe,
and to what vengeance is he brought that is infect with lowe:
And sen the tyme and place is showen, so will I now declair
which things war than plaist round about his high Triumphant chair.
First Errour, nixt deluding dreames, and deadlie Shapes and paill,
And fals opinioun at the Port That dois ower myndis prewaill,

Than slipper hope and Slyding trust wes in the ladder stapps,
and Damned gane with ganing lost that castis men in mishapps.
The nature of the Greis was suche that they that highest went
The lawer and the deiper doun agane was thair dissent;
Than Weryed rest was on the heigh, and thair repose in pane
with oppin Shame and glore obscwre and duskish did remane
Vnfayithfull Fayithe, Disloyall lowe, and othes bot trew in shaw,
Solistfull furye, madfull cair, and reasoun, sweir and slaw.
Tuix these a preiss it was to which we cam by oppin way,
but narowlie with straitnes pane our owtgait did assay;
The steps thairof and enteres was both dounward sliding quik,
the passage owt and going furthe wes high and rair vnthik;
Within wes all confusioun, and trouble mixt with noy,
a fray of Certen Woe and doole and of incertan Ioy.
These Illis did never broyle so fast nor bray in burning rage
of Vulcan, ishia, lippari, whose flams non can asswage,
Nor Strombolis with Ætna, mount Montgibell cald by name,
as did that place and presoun strong combur in burning flame;
So that I think he hates him self, and less him self dois lowe,
that would be practise know that yok and by his perrell prowe.

Within that Cage and dungeoun dark, that preasoun stark & strong,
we captiuat wer prisoneris, and thair enclosed long,
Wheare that my hairis and wonnted flight wer turned be tymes ecclips,
and vnto pailnes all the fresh and rudenes of my lipps;
So that my soule, so toucht with cair for that hir fredome past,
which greit desyre makis prompt and light, was conforted at last,

When as it spyed (thought but in dreme) these thingis so hard & strange
coequall with my state and plagis, and so go in thair change.
Bot vewing thair so manye spreittis which in that pitt did wun,
my piteous hart did melt lyke snow so sett against the Sun;
And lyke as one who in short tyme dois vew sum picturis long,
wherin ar draught and variant lynes and storeis tham among,
With one fwte fordwart goeth on, yit after with his Ee
dois backwart lwkt with better sight the more to mark and see,
Evin so did I thair cast my eyes and roll thame round about
the more perfytlie for to vew that band agane and rowt.

Finis Triumphi amoris.

The Seconde Triumphe called the Triumphe of chastetie.

When then I saw, evin at one tyme, and in the self same place,
the courage dantound of the gods whome lowe did so deface,
And lykwise with these god[s] evin those who mortall men wer cald,
and to the world did liwe lyke Sants, subdewed all and thrald,
By thair estait and guiltie fall I did example tak,
and by thair losses and thair harmes this proffeit did I mak;
So thairbe confort cam to me which eased me of my woe,
when as I spyed me tred that trace when gods and men did go.
For thair I saw and did beholde fair Phœbus full of glore
with Cupids bow and with his dart lye strukned verye sore;
With him also that lustie youthe, Leander, Heros lowe,
The one a god, the other a man, and so his death did prowe.
I lykwise saw within one snair with Iuno Dido led,
who for the woe hir husband deid hir vitall blood furth shed,
Not as the publict voyce dois bruit, or commoun fame dois tell,
becaus Æneas went his way, and would not with her duell.
Thus seing than, wherefore suld I regrett or yit lament,
or yit bewaill my fredome lost, or yit seme malcontent,
Yf now I be by lowe ourcum whils as I wes but armes,
young, rekles, and not well adwysed, vnwar of all my harmes?
Or wherfore suld I than complane if Loue and not my lowe,
or might not mak my freindlie foe his puissant power prowe?

Nor yit haif I iust caus of doole that thair I saw agane
Lowe in habit naked, spoyld, so pwrelie thair remane,
Berewed of his feddered wings, and spoyled of his flight,
though sorrow maid me to complane for to behoulde that sight.

And thus when Cupid sone espyed, Evin as wyld lyons two
with roring rumour other beasts in rage rancounters so,
Or as two thundring thunderbolts doun dingeth heir and thair
all thingis they find whair ever they light in heavin, earth, and air,
No otherwyse I Cupid spyed adres him to my dame
with all the argumentis he might hir to his yok reclame;
Bot shee vpone the other part against him did proceid
with swifter courss, so that she past both wind and fyre through speid.
No gretar sound more terrible did Ætna mountane mak
evin at that tyme Enceladus the giant it dois shak,
Nor Scylla with Charibdis seis so ragis in thair Ire,
that day nor night thair sturdie stormes dois ather waist or tyre,
Than wes evin at the first conflict for to be sene and hard;
so full of doubt wes that assault it can not be declaird.
Than euerie man retired him self vnto the highest place,
the better for to mark and vew who in that cruell cace
And interpryse so horrible victorious maist suld be,
with hart and eyes of Plaster maid, such succes for to see.

This conquerour who first did prease to giwe the first on sett
did tak in his right hand his dart, in left his bow did gett;
Than for to put my dame in fray and in a gretar feare,
he had alreddye bended It, and drawin it to his eare;

And this did he so haistelie that not the flying hart
more spedelie to foord and wood his course dois so convert,
Persewed by the Leopard, discha[r]ged of his chane,
or yit that in the wydest woodis in fredome dois remane;
Yea, they had both bene Late and slow thair in respect of lowe,
who with his visage full of flams did fast him fordwartis mowe.

Thair might be sene within my breist, which all wes set in fyre,
a sore conflict and doubtfull feyght tuix pitie and desyre:
Desyre me mowed for to desyre that lowe suld victor be,
and that my dame, by him subdewed, I might my marrow see;
Bot Pittie than did pleade remorse, and caused me say agane,
“It pittie war and hard to sie My Laura so lye slane.”
yet vertew that dois neuer from the Verteuous folke estrange,
evin at that instant shaw hir self that she dois never change,
Nor yit thame leawe who trustis in hir, thought sum thairbe hir blame,
from whome she hes hir self withdrawen to ludge them nixt thair shame.
Was never suche a scrimeur than so able, war, and quik,
for to awaird or to eshew the blow, the stogg, and prik;
Was neuer Mariner so prompt nor so reddie a hand
To turne the shipp furth of the rokkis and from the sinking sand.
Thair was my Ladie, Laura fair, who with a bould defence,
with honestie and shamefastnes, did lett his high pretence:
Sche suddenlye hir visage fair did from his strykes so hyde
that she both sharpe and egerlie did lowis assaults abyde.
I was that tyme with eyes attent and bent for to behoulde
the succes and the end of this greit feyght and battell boulde,
And hoping that the victorie suld fall on Cupids syid,
whair it is wonnt, and not from Lowe hir self dois oft dewyd;

And in this hope I so became than through to muche desyre
evin as a man vnmeasurablie who dois sum thing requyre
Hes first his suit first putt in writt or he to speik begin,
And in his eyes and forrett hes his toung and talk within:
“I would,” I say, “O thow, my lord, if thou me worthie think,
that with this Dame, if thow ourcum, I chaned wer and link;
Feare not I swerwe from thy impyre, or yit my self sall frie
furthe of these knottis wharwith thow hes so bund and coupled me.”
Whils thus I spak and this did say, I saw my dame agane
with face depainted full of Ire, and full of proude disdane,
Demeur within her countenance, sad, sober, and so grawe,
that no man is to shaw the same or able to conceawe,
Althought his wittis wer singular and almost all dewyne;
how than can I the same display that is of base ingyne?
For thair it might hawe weill besene Cupidois golden darts,
that kendled wer in fyrie flams, and waisted so mens harts,
Through outwart blast of beautie brawe, with honestie quyte quainshed,
and through the coldnes of my dame his ardent pleasouris stanched
So greit hir mynde and courage was with valeur of the same
that nather was the Volsian quene, nor amazonian dame
That did support the Troianis and the Greikis of lyfe bereft,
and vsed ay for to combat and shute ay with the left,
In anye point of worthines with Laura to be compared,
whose valeur far surpast thame bothe that I afore declared;
Nor Cæsar great, that worthye wight, who in Pharsalia feild
defaited Pompei with his host, and maid him to him yeild,
Wes neuer so scharpe nor ardentar, or bouldar on his foes,
than was my dame in contrare him who dois all armour lose.

With hir than armed wer at ones evin all the verteus fair—
o what a hevinlie cumpanie and glorious troupe was thair!

Thay progrest so in this thair Pompe and brawe triumphant band,
all Pair and pair, and two with two, and marching hand in hand.
Vpoun the vanguarde thair wes plaist high Honestie that dame,
with shamefastnes who trimlie did conduct and guyde the same,
Two noble verteus of great praise, and in thame selfs dewyne,
which maid my ladie, Laura fair, abowe the rest to shyne;
Witt than with Modestie ensewid, and wer thair nighbouris nixt,
Delyte, and good behauiour, who in her [OMITTED] wer fixt;
Than Perseuerance marched on, and Glorye cam behind,
Entreatie fair, with goode aduyse of ane forseing mynd;
And round about that valiant dame they wer in midle guarde
Rare courtesie and clenelines for which sche muche ay cairde,
Than feare of schame, desyre of glore, and thoughts in youthfull age,
and Concorde rare (within this world) all rancour to assuage.
In arire guard Trew Chastetie and Beutye brawe did go,
and in this sort my ladie fair went to hir feghting so
Against that souerane lord of Lowe with full intent to win,
with fauour of the heavinis, and all the blissed sowlis thairin:
And as my eyes vnable war thair fulnes to behoulde,
so is my toung the meanest part thairof for to vnfoulde.

Thair saw I this cleir cumpanie from lowe and from his bandis
a thousand thousand famous sonnes spoyle by thair spoyling handis,
And shake and strype furth of the same with victors voyce and psalmes
a thousand thousand branches brawe of cleir victorious Palmes.

That sudden fall and ouerthrow was never than so strange
To Anniball, that victor long who did the Romanis range,
And sextene yeares in Italie did brangill thair estait,
and in the end by Scipio was vanqueist and defait;
Nor yit that Giant Goliath with feare was more abasht
when that the Hebrew chyld his branes & head with stones had dasht;
Nor Cyrus more astonished when that wedow came
and killed him and all his route with lasting glore and fame,
As than that tyme appeared Loue, who stoode evin in that place
resembling him who now is whole, but in a litill space
Is suddenlie in seiknes brought, with wonder is amased
to sie his weilfair and his helth so suddanlie vpraised;
Or evin as one who, touchte for doole for thingis he not forsees,
dois with his handis bothe wype and rubb sham furth owt of his eyes:
Loue evin so did thair remane, yea, in a worser state,
for all his forcis and his folkis wer brawelie thair defait.

Thair might be sene than in his face both dollour, dreid, and feare,
and at one traict both shame and yre and anger greit appeare.
The stormye seis not ragis so when they so angrye grow,
and by thair contrare wyndie tydis thair bordouris dois ourflow,
Nor yit that Ile, Inarime, which lyes on Tipheus bake,
which he with boyling, foming rage and panefull pane dois shake,
Nor yit Mountgibell brayeth so when that Enceladus sighs,
And brusteth furth his rageing sobbs from bouldned breast & lighs,
As lowe did than both chawfe and rage and sighinlie did plane,
To sie him self and all his folkis disconfited remane.

Thus passed this greit cumpanie, so glorious in thair trane
that for to tell thair valiancie my toung I must restrane;
I am vnable that charge to tak leist I thair praise impair;
I thairfoir turne vnto my Dame and to the rest wer thair.

Sche had that tyme vpone hir bak a glorious gowne of whyte,
and in hir hand That Cristall targe that wrought medusa spyte,
And in the same a Piller was erect of Iaspar stone,
wherin a chane of Diamants wer placed one by one,
And Topassis mixt in the midst which verteus dames did vse,
bot now no more they keip that vse sen they them selfs abuse.
Thair saw I hir before my ene so fast Cupido tye,
and plaging him so cruellie whair he did vanqueist lye,
That suirlie than it semed to me the vengence to to muche;
bot yit I wes content thairwith, and thairat did not grucht.
My wittis ar waik, my Muse to slow, and slender my ingyne,
To pen the number of these Dames and virgins maist dewyne:
Nor Clio with Calliope and all these of that sect
be able what these ladeis wer to shaw or yit detect;
Off manye yit few sall suffice, and of these will I tell,
who on the Topp of Honestie and dignitie did duell.

Amangs the number of these Dames that staitlie thair did stand
was fair Lucretia first in place, and keped the right hand;
To whome Penelope wes nixt, who by hir force and might
bespoyled lowe of all his armes and of his winged flight,
And reaving from that froward lord his quawer, bow, and darts,
they crusht, they brust, they threw, and brake tham in a thousand parts.
Than nixt approchte Virginia, with hir hir father ferse,
armed with disdane and pietie, and with a blaid to perse
And wound his chaistlie dochters breist, which bothe to hir and Rome
brought change of state, and by hir death thair fredomes both did come.

Than afterwart the Germane Dames marcht fordwart in that band,
who for to sawe thair chastetie did in thame selfis putt hand;
Iuditha chaist, that Hebrew dame and wedow wyse and stronge,
wes with these other daintie dames triumphing thame amonge.
Nixt hir that brawe couragious dame, that Hippo heght by name,
To sawe hir bodye ondefylit, and frie hir selff from shame,
Did with a valiant worthye mynde, hir hard mishapp to sawe,
that to hir chaist and cumlie corss she maid the sea hir grawe.
With hir and other blissed Santis I saw Trumphe in glore
my Dame and Lowe who ouer the world had first Triumpht before.
Amangs the same I thair perceawed the Vestall virgine chaist,
fair Thucia, who falslie wes by Infamie disgraist,
Who for to purge hir of the same this miracle did giwe,
she brought from Tiber floode to church furth water in a siwe;
And after hir Hersilia, that brawe Sabinian dame,
whose worthines dois euerie booke and storye furth proclame;
With hir was these hir countrye maids whome Romanis through defait
had rewishit to be thair wyiffis for to prolong thair state.
And thair amangis these strangeris alss I hir did thair espye
that for hir fayithfull loveing spous did tak hir death thairbye—
Lat them the vulgar people peace, It Dido is, I say,
who for the doole of Sicheus death she put hir self away;
Thought Virgill wryte and publict bruit by Æneȩ do hir shame,
It was but cair of honestie that poust hir to the same;
And in the end thair prest in place one who did hir enclose
within a place at Arno syde, bot she hir tyme did lose;
For what she would effectuat and purpose bring to pass,
hir honest thoughts and chaistfull mynde by force impeached was.

This valiant and victorious band went fordwart in that tyme
when that the wintar waxed hote, and spring was in his pryme;
And so they all past Ioyfullie togeather in that way
wheare that the saltish watrie wawes dois brek on bayas bay;
And so they walked on a pace, and towards the right hand
they marched on till they did come vnto that solide land,
from whense betuix these mountanis two of Barbare and Auerne
they progrest on till they did come vnto Sibilla derne;
And further of they passed on vntill Linterno fort,
in whiche so solitare a place that great man did resort
And chiften brawe who hes his name from Aphrica with prayse,
for that he was the first who thair did by his sworde mak wayes,
Who did not thair in anye sort diminishe or abate
by his renoun and purchest glore the newnes of thair state,
Bot with his eyes most plesantlye thame pleased with Mirrie cheir;
and shee that wes maist chaist in lyfe most fairest did appeir.
In others pompe It would him grewed so in thair bandis to walk,
who onelye was (gif mens beleiff be not in vane and talk)
The onelye man borne to Truimphe and thairto to aspyre,
and onelye bred to countreis win and conqueiss ane Impyre.
Whair after they and all arrywed vnto that souerane toun,
and first vnto that holye church so famous by renoun
Which Chaist Sulpicia had erect, and to that end did frame,
to quensht within the mynde of man all mad and rageing flame;
And after they thair progress maid vnto that church whose name
Is chastetie, that honorable and maist renouned Dame,
Who kendleth in a gentle hart chaist will and high desyre,
Not of the vulgar sort, bot such as vnto praise aspyre:

Quhair in that church that Glorious dame did all hir spoyle expose
before that goddes godlie feitt, and þair lykwyse depose
Victorious leawes and sacred Palmes which she before had tane
and reft from lowe, that to hir glore the same might thair remane.
Thair was with hir that Toskane youthe, Spurinna heght by name,
that Maigled had his visage fair for to eshew defame,
Whose Bewtye was of such great force all wemen to subdew,
that they wer win all to his lowe at his first blinke and vew;
Thair did that youth with Laura fair displey and did vnhyde
his bloodie wondis and magled cheikis with Chastetie to byde.
With hir compered manye moe whose names my Guyde did knaw,
and at the tyme of Thair Triumphe he did thame to me shaw,
Who did dispyse Cupidois force and power in that band,
And whome amongs fair Hippolite and Ioseph iust did stand.

Finis Triumphi Castitatis.

The thrid Triumphe of Deathe.

Cap. i.

This statelie, brawe, and weill disposed, this gallant, glorious Dame,
that is a naked spreit and peace of earth within the same,
Who sometymes was the Pillar heigh, the fortrest full of store
of Valeur, and of worthines, returned bak with glore
Moist Ioyfullie from these hir wayes, triumphing over hir foe,
that all the world dois with his craft and his desait ourthroe;
And not with other armes or strenght this foe she hes subvert
than with a visage fair and mylde, and with a chaistly hart,
With thoughts most poore, with speache most wyse, with langage most discr[eit],
that ay wer freindis to honestie, with shamefastnes repleit.

A wounder great it wes to sie, a thing bothe strange and rare,
the armes, the bow, the shafts of lowe for to ly brokned thair,
And round about him to aspye sa manie thair lye slane,
with manye captiwed presoners that did in lyfe remane,
This ladie with hir chosen folk bak makking thair retrait
from hir Triumphant victorie marche vnder clothe of stait;
In number few hir people were, this is no strange to heir,
becaus that trew and solide glore is seildome sene appeir;

Yit everie one who wes with hir deserued worthie praise
in historie, in loftye verse, in statelie style and phraise.

At that tyme was thair Enseingȝie, within a feild of grene
ane Ermind whyte depainted was, all lyllie whyte and clene,
Whose nek did beare a Topas chane insert with fynest gold,
To witnes weill that Puritie which they did alwayes hold.
No humane pace nor earthlie stepps thair walking was & trace,
bot hevinlie all, and all thair wordis wer full of hevinlie grace.
O blist be these! weill be these blist! and happie thryse agane
that to suche destine creat be and such good fate sustane!
As Twinkling starris they all appered in midst a Sun of light,
decoring thame evin with these beames which daisled not thair sight;
Thair headis with garlandis wer bedect of reid incarnat rose,
with violes of brawest hewis, and flouers of brawest chose;
And as a noble gentle hart great glorie dois obteane,
so did this Ioyfull cumpanie with Ioy eache fitsteppe trane.

Quhen then I saw, evin suddanelie, a banner borne of blak,
and in the same, of that same hew, a furious woman shak;
Sad, paill, obscure, and sensles shee appeared, alace, to me,
with fureis wrapt and fureis worne at that tyme seamed shee;
The sight heirof so hideous was as skairslye I can tell
gif suche a sight at Phlegia was when that The Giantis fell.
Than did this greiȝelie, ghaislie ghaist addres hir to me dame,
with trotting trace and haistie voyce did call hir by hir name:
“O ladie fair, that so dois go decord with youthe and grace,
and dois not knaw of this thy lyfe the fixed terme and space,
I she am she that importune and Cruell cald by yow,
who ar a people deafe and Blind, and makis all creaturis bow,
Who fearfullye dois all arrest evin be my force and might,
that shortis the day, and haistis before or evening come the night;

I she am she that hes conwoyed the Greikis vnto thair end,
The Troians and the Romans to I haif maid to discend
Within thair dreidfull grawe and tombe be this my fatall brand,
That sheares and slayes, that prikis and cuttis, and killeth owt of hand,
With manye other people moe, both Barbar, gross, and strange,
arryving first before they know thair lyfe for death to change,
Ransakking all thair pansiwe thoughts long ludged in thair mynde,
and brakking doun thair vane conceattis to death they haif declynde.
And now to yow, when yow must list to liwe in lyfe so long,
I do adres my deidlie course with deadlie Dart and strong,
Before dame fortoun with hir wheill in sum vnhappie houer
with luckles happ ourcross your hope, and mixt your sweit with souer.”

Than answered she who was within this world onlye one,
“thow hes not in these cumpaneis no right nor reasoun none;
Thow may in me far less pretend, bot gif that thow wilt haiff,
The onelye spoyle is that thow shalt my corss conwoy to graiff.
Bot thair is one who sall hawe more displeasour be my deathe,
For in my weilfair and my helth depends his lyfe and breathe.
It sall to me most thankfull be from this world to goe,
which is the Port of Miserie, and harbrough for our woe.”
Than as a man who bendis his eyes on vncouthe things & new,
and seing thame more than first he spyeth far vtherwayes ensew,
With wounder is astonished, and than him self dois blame,
so dois this ferse and cruell death with wounder pause for shame;
And as be chance she mused awhyle these words at lenth she spak,
“I know the tyme wherin my teith ar drest to spoyle and sak.”
So afterwart with calmie face, less vglie than before,
she thus began to speik: “o dame, adorned so with glore,

That dois conduct this chaistlye band, yit though thow hes not knowen
my poysned shafts and deidlie dartis which many hes ourthrowen,
if to my counsell at this tyme thow bothe gif trust and eare,
what I enforce is for the best, and so it sall appeare.
Ould, harie, lothesom, crooked age I far from the sall chase,
with all the cairis and fashereis that dois with age recrease;
I am resolwed and purposed now suche honour the to doe,
Sawe the to none was never before such fauour shawin vnto;
Thou shalt exchange thy lyiff for death, thy spreit sal part but feare,
no sorrow thairby sall thow feill, Nor dollour sall the deir.”
This earthlie Sant this spak agane: “evin as it pleass the lord
that standis in heavin to rewll from thence all thingis in gude accord,
Who gowerneth all this vniuerss, and reullis this massiue round,
do he to me and in suche sort as other folkes hes found.”

Thus as she spak: then suddanlie behold the spacious place
was quiklye with deid bodeis filled whom death did so deface;
The number was so hudge and greit as none culd hawe tham pend,
suppose he shuld in prose and verse thame prease to comprehend;
Of India, Cataia, with Marracos, and of Spane,
of all these people wes the midst replenisht with the plane;
The lowest partis and hollow place the multitude vpfilled,
whom death with longer tract of tyme had cruellie so killed.

Thair was these men whom men most cald most happie & most blist,
Triumphant kingis and empreouris, and Popes whose feit men kist,

Who now lyes spoyled of thair Pompe and skant dois plague þair pryd,
and poorer ar then beggaris be who oft for crommes hes cryed.
Now tell me than, whair is thair welth, whear is thair glorie great?
Whair ar thair Gems and pretious stones, and Sceptaris of estait?
Whair ar they now? whair ar they gone? whair ar thair princelie crownis?
whair ar thair forked myters now? whair are thair purple gownis?
O wretched he, and Miser more, that fixis so his trust
on mortall things to which all men that mortall be hawe lust!
But who is he that dois not so? yit they salbe in end
with reasoun iustlye scorned and scuft that to that course did tend.
O blinded folk to toss yow so! what Ioy can yow befall?
vnto your mother ould yow must returne bothe one and all,
And than your titillis and your stylis sall so obscured lye,
that yow sall all forgotten be, none sall yow hawe thairbye.
Than tell me now for what effect do yow youre cair intend,
although one gane for thousand panis do to yow ryse in end;
Who dois not sie [that] all is vane, a folye flatt exprest?
Or what awaillis that be your force suche countreyis be posest
Which ar not yours, and Tributare to mak the strangeris sole,
with dommage of your corpss and soule that for your sinnis sall thole?
Or after perrellous interpryse, bothe bloodye, vane, and wrong,
To purchess land be loss of bloode that dois yow not belong?
Or yit to muk and gather gold, and so your handis defyle?
It better for your soules had bene to liwed with breid this whyle,
And water more had yow beseamed, rough treis, and brittill glass
had more besett than Gems and gould in which your glorie wass.

Bot now will I draw in my saillis and to my purpose Turne,
which is the subiect of my woe that makis me so to murne.

So when I say the houer was come, Alace, that latter houer
of that hir short and glorious lyfe which death did so dewouer,
Wherein she must that doubtfull pace and passage than assey,
whereof the fearfull world standis in dreid and in a fray,
Thair cam a troupe of valerus dames, a band so chaist and fair,
To sie if this fair ladie lewed, or deathe hir lyfe would spair;
About hir bed they gathered thame to mark and vew the end
To which bot ones, bot no more oft, must all inclyne and tend.
As all hir freindis and nighbouris neir hir bewtie did behould,
death rooted wp and did dissolue hir hair as fyne as gould,
So that the choisen fairest flouer that in this world did sprout,
death fouly to the worldis disgrace did rywe and pull it owt,
Nor for to hate nor yit Envye that he to it did beare,
but that in thingis most excellent his pouer might appeare.
Sore sad laments, and sparpled teares, deip sighs, and reuthfull cryes
was thair amongs these wemen all that rave to reuth the skyes.
O what a hart brek was it to see these eyes so fair and bright
for which I manye a Sonet maid to lose thair lucent light!
Betuix sa manye scalding sighs and havie layes of woe,
betuix sa manye shrilling shouts and sobbis in number moe,
That hevinlie Dame, that Ladie fair, did peacelye sit but bruit,
and of hir vertewis deidis did rype the glorious gane & fruit.

“O mortall goddes, go thow hence! in peace dois thow depairt!”
so said the people who wer thair with sad and murnfull hart.
“Quhat sall be cum or yit befall to others, mortall wights,
sen suche a dame hes brunt and fresed, and past in such few nights?”

Thair speache forsuith deserwed praise, bot it not muche awaild
against that death that in hir rage so roughlye hir assaild.
O Trustles hope of humane thingis! O hope bothe blind & vane!
Incerten ar thow in thye course, and so sall ay remane.

If that for pittie of hir death the earth was washt with teares,
as he best knowest who saw it so, so lat him think that heares.
It wes the sex day of Appryle, thairof the Primal houer,
in whiche my fervent flam began be cupids puissant pouer;
And looke what houer she did me in her loyall lowe insnair,
The self same tyme now by hir death renewed hes my cair;
Att that same day that hes me bound the same hes sett me frie,
As fortoun in hir fickill course hir style dois change we sie.

None evir yit did so complane, none ever so bewaild
his fredome lost, or dreidfull death that over him prewaild,
Than I of this my libertie brought by hir loss of lyfe,
whose threid by gretar richt suld bene first cutt by fatall knyfe:
For thow suld first, o death, me kild, my debt by age wes dew,
that formast stood vpoun that front from which hir glorye grew.
Who can beleif my doolefull woe, my dollour, and my cair,
my sadnes, and my loude lamentis, my sorrow, and dispair?
No none thair is Imagine may the greatnes of the same;
how than can I in prose and verse them bouldlye furth proclame?

These ladeis fair that stoode about that ladeis chaistlie bed,
with wofull woe, with murning mone, and cheikis with teares ourspred,

Began to crye, “now, now, alace! Dame vertew is decayid,
fair Beutye now hes lost hir lampe, and courtsie is astrayed.
Woe! woe! alace! who sall ws sawe? what sal be come of ws?
since she is deid what sall we hope, who sall this doubt discus?
Who evir saw in suche a dame suche perfyte proofes of praise?
who evir hard so sweit a speache so full of wit alwayes?
Who evir hard, or yit did sie, though he suld liwe to long,
from suche ane Angell Angellis voyce so Angelic a song?”

Her spreit before it did depairt from bosome of hir rest,
and from that place which to toe short it shortlie had possest,
With all his vertewis and his giftis conioyned vnto one,
did light the air in euerie part, and cleir the heavinis anone;
Nor none of all the furious Spreittis durst than ones vndertak
for to compeir before that dame with visage foule and blak,
Before, alace, that dreidfull death, that dame but blame or fault,
vpone hir chaistlye cumelie corss had finisht his assault.
Bot after they had end thair plaintis and left thair lowde lament,
and by dispair war maid seceur, they had thair eyes all bent
Vpon hir visage meik and myild, and markt hir angellis face,
Most bewtifull, most angelik, and full of hevinlie grace.

Not as a fyre of flamming flame blawen owt by busling blast,
bot as a spark that through hir self consumis and deith last,
And as we sie a sweit cleir light that cummeth to decay,
whose nurishing by peice and pece dois softlye weir away,
And to the end hir ancient vse and custumes keipis eache on,
So to hir fading deing lyfe hir deing day drew on.
And so but pane so dyed my Dame, hir lyfe so past and went,
hir hevinlie soule to hevinlie rest in peace did pairt content.
Not Paill that lowely ladie lay, bot whytar than the snow
which gathered is in flokkis but winde, and dois togeather row;

And as a man through Trawell long and exercise is faint,
in suche a sort my ladie lay when deathe did hir attaint.
Her soule than being parted so, that which maid foolish men
Callis vglie death a plesant Sleip did in hir eyes seme then,
So that that deidlie Monster wyld, that dois all folk disgrace,
did than appeir most bewtifull within my Ladeis face.

Finis .i. cap.

ii. The Secounde chapter of the Triumphe of Deathe.

The night that after did ensew this wofull vglie chance,
that deathe my dame so suddanlie did to hir grawe adwanse,
That night in maner maid the Sun his lucent light to lose,
and sped him from the earth in haist in heavin to repose.
So being left I knew not weill whose fitstepps for to trane,
I lost my guyde, and I did lyke a blinded man remane.

Quhen that the sweit and sommer frost was sparpled by the air,
and quhill Aurora did begin agane to earth repair,
That dois despoyle and tak away evin by hir wholesome streames
the coverture and mantle braid of fals confused dreames,
Evin at that tyme a ladie fair did to my sight appeir,
resembling right on euerie point the season of the yeir.
Sche was bedect with precious pearle, and crouned with orient stones,
yea, crowned she was with thousand crownes of Iewellis brawe at ones,
Who, moweing softlye in hir self, she towardis me did walk,
and lowinglye besydis my syd did sett hir doun to talk,
And streatching owt hir plesant hand, that hand so long desyrd,
she sighing, speiking, yeild it furth, and me to speik requyrd:
From whense his rissen the pleasant Ioy & that eternal bliss
that in my woefull havie hart so long so ludged Is.

“Knowst thow not hir,” thus spak my dame, “who first thy wandring pace
hes turnd asyid from vulgar way and from the vulgar race?
Knowst thow not hir who the withheld from that which youth did rage,
whose chastlie hart both caused thy lowe and als thy lust did swage?”
This pansiwe dame, in deids most wyse, and in hir actis discreit,
satt doun quhair meiklie she did me to sit with hir intreit:
It was a pleasing bank that place whairon we than reposed,
with laurell grene and branchely beach ourshadowed all and closed.

Than answered I euen as a man who speiking shedds his teares,
and through the greitnes of his greiff his toung from talk forbeares:
“O Laura, thow! O Ladye fair! O goddes of my mynd!
my eyes dois knaw the verie weill, o glore of womankynd!
Tell me, my Dame, tell, hevinlie soule, from whense my grace dois grow,
if thow be leving or yit deid becaus I long to know.”
“I am in lyfe, not deid,” sayis she, “I liwe, and thow is deid,
and salbe whill the later houer that death to earth the leid.
And now, for that the tyme is short our will is alwayes long,
I counsell that thow [OMITTED] It that so thow go not wrong;
Lose not the brydill to the same, thy speache to goode employ,
before the day that draweth neir the to thy grawe conwoy.”
Than I in end replyed thus: “tell me, my hevinlie dame,
that now of lyfe and death hes prowin the practise of the same,
And knowst the proofe what is to liwe and what to die agane,
if death a thing so feirfull be, or yit so full of pane.”
Than answered she: “so long as thow with vulgar folk will hould,
whose iudgement is ay wauering, and to thair will Inthrauld,

And thair opinionis so embrace that blinde ar, hard, and auld,
thow nevir happie salbe named nor blissed salbe cald.

To noble spreittis and gentle myndis death is the end of cair,
of presoun strong, of Dungeonis dark, of dollour and dispair;
Bot vnto these who hes thair thoughts so fixt on earthlie things,
to suche eternall noy and sturt and sorrow death inbringis.
And this my woefull doolefull death for which thow hes lament,
for whiche thow hes sae manie teares so vanelie shed and spent,
I am assured suld confort the, and quyte efface thy noy,
if that thow felt the thousand part of this my hevinlie ioy.”

Quhen thus she spak she cwist hir eyes vnto the highest heavin,
and then her roselye lipps war closed, and I to purpose dreavin,
“O dame,” said I, “these tyrantis strong that rewld that last empyre,
as Sylla, Marius, nero vyld, that sett all Rome in fyre,
Calligula, Maxentius, with murder so acquent,
that daylie so to torture men all Tormentis did Invent,
The burning boyling feaveris whote, the seiknes in the breist,
the sorenes in the Lim̄s and nervis that so dois men molest,
Makis death for to accounted be with euerie one and all
abhorred be, and so estemed more bitter than the gall.”

“I can not weill denye,” sayis she, “but that the pane and woe
that goeth before or death dois come dois mak ws think it soe;
Bot that which greweth most of all, it is that dreidfull feare
To loss our long and lasting lyfe, this is that most ws deare;

Bot to the spreit that dois in god his confort all repose,
And to that hart that for his sinnis his waiknes dois disclose,
Vnto that hart, and to that spreit, What death can vther be
than evin a short and litill sigh, as men dois breath we sie?
The proofe thairof evin be my self most planelie may be prowen,
who nerest was my latest course or death had me ourthrowen:
When fleshe was frayle and bodie seik, & spreit more prompe agane,
I hard with heavie sound a voyce most heavelie complane,
‘O wretched he and miserable that rekneth Lauras dayes,
to whome eache one a thousand yeares appeares to him alwayes!
He euerie houer hes suche desyre to visie hir and sie,
and, if he sie hir not euerie hour, he can not happie be;
He seikis for hir through all the earth, bot yit can not hir finde,
and euerie hour and moment small he hes hir in his mynde;
He seikis for hir the fomeing seis, and searcheth all the bankis,
the bayes, the brayes, the brookes, the floods, the deip and watrie stankis,
Whair euerie he walkt or holdis his stepps, ay holding still one style
to think on hir, to speik on hir, and verse of hir compyle.’
Than hearing thus, my fanting ee I turned to that syde
from which that heavie sounding sound I hard and had espyde,
And thair persaweth that Gentle dame that long thy passionis knew,
that thrust me fordwart in thy lowe, and bakwart the with drew;
The sugred wordis owt from hir mouth did mak hir knowen to me,
hir visage and hir countenance did shaw the same wes she
That oftentymes my wofull hart reconforted and glad,
when heavines did it assayle, or sorrow made it sad;

Sche was acquent with our effaires, with witt she was repleit,
and fayithfull was she in our lowe, and at my deathe discreit.

And planelie now I will the tell, Evin in my brawest state,
and in my grene and growing yeares to the both brawe and feate,
Which caused hes the thoughts and toungs of men to talk and think
in praise of that which was the chaine that did in lowe ws link,
That lyfe which I that tyme than ledd more bittar wes to me,
and swetar than my gentle death that hes me maid to die;
A thing most rare to mortall men, and strange it is to heir,
that death to me more better semed than bitter did appeir;
Becaus to me that passage wes more ioyfull and content
than he that from exyle is cummed and to his countrye went;
The thing that onlye dois me vex, and most my mynde dois grewe,
Is that thow in this wicked world so long, alace, sall lewe.”

Than answered I and spak agane: “O pretious pearle of praise,
I the adjeur by that same fayth that all the world dois blaise,
Whiche tyme I trow hes manifest and oppinlie dois proclame,
and now the more in sight of him that liwis in lasting fame
Dois more appeir, whose eyes dois perse and seis in euerie part,
than tell me if thow ever had ones pittie on my smart,
Or one the panis that lowe hes ludgt within my macered breist,
or of the thoughts that in suche hudge did long my heade molest,
Not leving of your chaistlye wayes nor honest interpryse,
whiche yow wer wont for to oppone aganis my rauthfull cryes;
For that your pleasant gratious Ire and these your sweit disdanes,
So mixt with lowe and than with heate redoubling so my panes,

Togeather with the platt of peace imprented in your eyes,
the Seales of grace, the nest of bliss that all my sorrow seis,
Did holde so long my whote desyris in such incertan sort,
as ay my mynde dois stand in doubt disparing of support.”
I skarslie had my wofull wordis owt from my mouth declaird,
when as I saw a smyrcling smyle with douce and sweit regaird
Pass from the passage of hir eyes, which sometymes of my Ioy
was both the salve and medicine for to abaitt my noy.

So afterhend she sighing said: “O Petrark, iust and trew,
mark weill my wordis and credeit giwe to that which dois ensew:
My hart nor yit my lasting lowe did euer from the depart,
Nor yit that lowe my hart had ones death euer sall subwert;
Bot warlye I prowydid so To temper so thy flame,
with coy regaird to mitigat the fearsnes of the same,
Becaus they wer no other way to keip in honest fame
my chastetie and thye renoun of ewill bruit and blame;
And so thow ought not for to think that Laura not the loved,
or had not pittie on thy plaints or yit to reuth not mowed.
For looke how that a mother deir dois chastise so hir sonne,
correctis him for amendiment to frame in better toone,
Evin so did I so vse my selff, and to my self oft said,
‘Petrarcha lowis not but dois burne, this fyre must than be stayd.’
It is my part for to foirsee these ewillis before they grow,
less commoun bruit vnto our shame our Infamie furth blow;
Bot so to do It is verie hard: for how can they prowyde
against these things for which they feare and ernistlie abyde?
Fame would ay evin as I did the to my lowe reclame,
but slaunder maid me ay mistrust and feare a gretar shame;
And to my selff I oft hawe said, ‘he markis but owtward thingis,
yit Inwardlie he seis it not that so me woundis and stingis;’

I vsed this craft to draw the bak and spur the thick agane,
Evin as a brydle backwart beares the Wantonn horss and vane;
And yit this more I will confes, a thousand tymes hes Ire
depanted in my face what lowe within had sett on fyre,
And thousand tymes my face hes showen, and thousand tymes exprest,
the sore conflictis and Inwart flamms that brunt my hart & breist.
And looke how muche thye lowe appeird so swirlie greit wes myne,
bot Will did not my Reasoun rewll nor maid from right repyne;
And after when I the beheld ourcome by lowe his rage,
Than sweitlie wold I cast my eyes thy sorrowis to assuage,
With purpose and with full intent, and with a cairfull cair,
To sawe thy honour with my lyfe that languisht by dispair;
And when the passionis that the paind so panefull did appeir,
I purposed then to confort the with visage calme and cleir,
So that my forrett and my voyce did for thy saiftye mowe,
now full of woe, than full of Ioy, and dreid full mixt with lowe:
This was the practise of my hart, these war my honest wayes,
That I through honour with the vsed vntill my deing dayes,
Now shawen furth a blythe aspect all gathered full of grace,
And than agane a coy disdane, and than a sourer face.
Thow knowst that all these thingis be trew, thy Sonettis this reveillis,
and all thy songs proclames the same which of thy woe bewaillis.
In end I vsed such sindrie salwes to salwe thy sore diseis,
that bothe my cair and studie was how the to pane and pleis:
For when I saw thy watrye eyes so full of streames of teares,
which trickling doun in suche a pace did wash thy cheaks and eares,
Than would I say, ‘this man dois rin a course vnto his deathe,
I sie things thairfoir must help prolong his lyfelie breathe;’

And Thairfore than I did prowyde some help and honest ayde
To eiss thy woes, redress thy soares, aud mak thye state be stayde;
Then when I saw sa manie spurris so fordwart in thy syde,
than would I say, ‘an harder bitt must mak this man abyde;’
And thus when then I so espyde how thow had hope of gane,
‘convenient is,’ said I, ‘this hope be drowned with disdane;’
So that amidst these contrareis, sometymes both whote and coulde,
Now whyte, now reid, now blythe, now sad, I haif evin as I woulde
Conducted the now to this point, though I now weryed be,
Whair through I leid a glorious lyfe, and so sall all men see.”

Than I replyed with face besprent and visage wak with teares,
and tremblinglye with Trembling voyce all faint with thousand feares,
“O glorious dame, of this my fayithe greit gane thow suld me giwe,
gif that I could thy loveing words so steidfastlie beliwe.”
“O man, o man of litill faythe,” she answerd in disdane,
“gif thow not knowst which that I speik to be both trew and plane;
Quhat reasoun is suld me induce to tell these thingis to yow,
and thow no wayes that which I speik will credeit yit or trow?
I wer vniust, o Petrark myne, gif I the treuth suld hyde:
whils as I liwed thow in my hart and in my eyes did byde;
In treuth, that sweit and loving knot most plesant was to me
be which thow preast by fervent lowe with me to coupled be;
That brawe renoun (if trew I heir) which through the world dois perse,
which far and nar thow hes me wun by thy Immortall verse,
Dois pleis me muche, for that I knew thow had no other suit
than by a lawfull honest meanes to reape thy wished fruit.

And this was it that onely faild, this onely did inlake,
for to perfyte that perfyte lowe which did not thyne forsake:
For whils that thow in havie act thy sadnes did bewray,
thow maid thye flams to publisht be through all the world, I say;
Hence came my zeale to mollifie, and so thye flame to soft;
bot yit in all suche other thingis such concord than was wrought
As loyall lowe with honestie dois temper and Immixt,
so in my lowe bothe honestie and shamefastnes was fixt:
This difference was tuixt thame bothe, thow publisht furth thy flame,
when secreitlie I in my hart had buried wp the same;

And when that thow for mercie cryed, so that thye voyce was hoarse,
I held my toung, yit in my hart I had on the remorse.
For shamefastnes vpone the one, on other syde a feare,
did make my many whote desyrs far fewer more appeare;
For nather is that doole the less that dois a nother vex,
nor yit be Moning mone growis more that men dois so perplex,
As nather thingis that ar of treuthe, and hes by treuthe thair stay,
by feinȝeit fortoun dois incress, or yit by It decay.

Yit did not I dissolue these doubts when I with the did sing
thy sugred songs that with my panis thy praises all did ring.
And this muche more I will the tell: my hart wes ay with the,
suppose my eyes wer turned asyde, and seemed not the to see;
Off which thow verie oft complaind, as of these partis vniust,
That quainsht thy hope and esperance and raised thy mistrust;
Yit so to doe thow had no cause, for that of me the best
vnto thy handis I did it yeild so that the worst bot rest.

And know when that my eyes sumtymes war turnd from vewing the,
that they a thousand tymes agane with mercie did the see;
And in this same persuade thy self they on the ay had lookt,
wer not I fear that through thair flammes they had rekendled thy smok.

Now sumquhat more I am to say afore that I mak end,
that may the pleis or I depart or I to go intend:
It is that I in euerie point sufficientlie am blist,
and yit in one thing (to my greiff) this happines I mist;
It dois me greiff my natiwe soyle and birth place is so bass,
from whiche I had my levinge lyfe, in which I gendred wass;
And one thing more augmentis my woe, I was not borne besyde
that floorish nest, fair Florence toun, in which thow did abyde;
and yit my countrye soyle & ground contentit much thy mynde,
if not the place perhapps my lowe it was that maid the kynde.

I wisht this change becaus I feared that thy trew constant hart
through change to some vnknowen face and vncowthe be conwert,
And so that glorious famous praise, which thow to me procured,
suld darkned be so of les fame and bruit it had indured.”

To this I said, “not so, O Dame, suche change culd never chanse;”
and than the thrid fair hevinlie spheir did so me far adwanse,
Evin with hir whirling circled wheill to suche a sort of lowe,
as Venus stoode Immoveable and I might not remowe.

Than answered she: “sen so it is suche glore I haif by the,
that yit Immortall thow dois lest, and so sall follow me,

Grawe thairfoir this within thy mynde, and in thy hart imprent,
The tyme dois slipp, and through thy Ioy thow knowst not how is spent.”

Alreddie I Aurora saw Ryse from hir golden bed,
rebringing bak the day to men, and all the cluddis to shed,
Alreddie than fair Phebus was mount in his golden cairt,
and owt from the bosome wyde of Neptune to depairt,
When that my ladie, Laura fair, from me was to resort,
whose going than renewed my woe, and prayed me to be short,
And with the tyme to distribut and all my speache dewyde,
becaus she was not long to stay nor with me to abyde.

Thus answered I: “O thow, my Dame, thy goodlie wordis and sweitt,
so lowelie, chaist, and pitifull, so wyse, and so discreit,
They mak me tak my panefull panis, my martirdome, and smart,
my lingring lyfe, and havie loss, far in a better part;
Bot this, alace, dois most me grewe, and this dois most me pane,
that yow no more in Lyfe sall liwe, and I but yow remane;
Now one thing thairfoir to me shaw, sall I thy futstepps trace,
or sall a longer space of tyme my lingring yeares increase?”
Than did my lowe, my Iem, and Ioy, speik so, as I belewe,
“thow sall but me drywe furth thy dayes and long in earth sall liwe.”

Finis Triumphi Mortis.

The Fourt Triumphe called Fame.

i. chap.

Now after hend that cruell deathe had Triumpht in hir face,
which oftentymes so ouer me Triumphed in lyke cace,
And after that furth from this world my Sun wes taken away,
and that dispytfull wicked beist, which dois all folk affray,
Paill, sad in visage, horrible, and in hir countenance prowd,
had bewteis light extinguished, which did all brightnes shrowd,

Than lookeing so me round about vpoun the growing grass,
I quiklye on the other part espyde a dame to pass,
And nerar me for to arrywe, who drawis men from thair grawe
and from thair tombe, thought being deid, in longer lyfe dois sawe.
And looke how dois the morning starr at brek of day appeir,
and cam from eist befoir the Sun within hir purpled spheir,
Who willinglie dois marrow hir with all his light and flame,
So in suche sort and all alyke approched then this Dame.

Oh, sall I sie now from what scoole a maister sall proceid,
that can at large descrywe what I do speik in simple leid!
The heavinis about hir wer so cleir, so that through grit desyre
whairwith my lingring hart wes brunt and waisted in a fyre,

My daisled eyes, vncapable of suche a splendant light,
war than maid less, and culd not weill sustane suche fair a sight.
Vpon thair forheades wer ingrawen the valeur of these men
who wer a people honorable; amangis thame saw I then
Great sort of these whome lowe before had with him captiwe led
as presoneris, and thame enforst his tract to trace and tred.

And first vnto my sight appered to be in Fames right hand
great Cæsar and brawe Scipio about hir than to stand;
Bot who of thame was nerest hir I culd not weill perceawe,
for one of them to vertew was, and not to lowe, a slawe,
The other subiect was to bothe, and with thame both indewed.
so after this beginning brawe and glorious ensewed
A cumpanie & rank of men, a people warlike wyght,
with valeur and with armour armed, and full of force and might,
Lyke these who in the ancient tymes, in high Triumphant chair,
To Capitoll by Sacra streit or lata did repair;
These all so orderlyke, I say, with famous Fame thame sped,
whair thair in euerie bree and brow might than his name bene red,
Who most through gretest glorye to this glorious world was freind,
and by his valiancye and deadis obtened great commend.

As I did mark attentiwely thair Noble secreit talk,
thair gesture, acts, and countenance, behold, I saw to walk
With thame two other in array, the one ones Neucis was,
the other his Sone, who through his deadis did all the world surpass.
Thair also these men I beheld who by thair valiant corss
did cloiss the passage to thair foes, and staide thair force perforce,

Two fatheris brawe, accumpanyed with the victorious sones,
and one before and two behind so marched to thair thrones;
Of whose the last and hindmest was the cheifast first in glore,
thought not in marche yit far in praise the formest wes before.

Thair after, lyke a Carbuncle great, Claudius flamd and shynde
that by his counsell and his handis from Italie declynde
The tempestes of more greit effairis, that secreitlie at night—
as weill the flood Metaurus yit can weill recorde his might—
Cam quiklye thair, and did defait Asdruballis sakking host,
that threatninglie the Romane armes so threatned and did bost,
Who thair did purge the romane feildis of that most noysum seid,
and in this fact he had both eyes and wingis to mak more speid.

Thair oulde great Captane Fabius did second him nixt fame,
who by great craft ferse Anniball and drift of tyme ourcame;
With him a nother Fabius, with thame Two Catois toe,
two Pauls with thame, two Bruti als, and eik Marcelli twoe,
One Regulus that lowed Rome and did him self more hate,
on Curio with Fabricius, more fair in poore estait
Than Midas or yit Crassus to, for all thair glanceing gold,
whose auarice thair greadie myndis from vertew did with hold;
With thame did Cincinnatus march, with him Serianus walk,
not distant be a stapp or pace from thame of whome we talk.
And thair I saw Catullus go, that great Camillus come,
that rather lothe to liwe or that he did not good to Rome,
So that the goddes him fauouring so did bring him bak agane
by his great proofe of manfull mynde and thair for to remane,

100

When that the blinde and furious rage of Vulgar people vyle
did banish him from natiwe soyle and chaist vnto exyle.

So thair I did Torquatus sie to giwe command to kill
his valiant and victorious youth that disobeyed his will,
And chosed rather to indure, to liwe but chylde and sone,
than that the discipline of wars by him suld be vndone;
Heir One and other Decius who with thair breists maid way
owt through the thikkest of thair foes thame ferslie to assay.
O cruell vow which with the Sone the father reft of breathe,
and caused thame bothe offer wp thair lyfe vnto one deathe!

Now Curtius with thame dois walk no less then those devote
that to the Cawe did both him self and armour all alote,
And filled wp that vglie den, alace, by horrible vow,
in midst within the market place that trembling so did bow;
Leuinius with Mummius Attilius was, with thame
Flamminius who bothe by force and pittie greikis ourcame.

Thair also was that Roman bauld who, bounded with a wand,
the Syrien king within a rounde to answer did demand,
And with his gesteur and his brow, and with his toung constraind
vnto his will and his desyre which he afore disdaind;
And him I spyed who all Inarmed alone did keip the hill
from whense he afterwart wes thrust and hurled by thair will;
With him also Horatius that did alone defend
the bridge aganis the Thoskan force and brought thame to thair end;
And him I saw who in the midst and thikkest of his foes
in vane did thrust his hand in fyre his boldnes to disclose,
And thair so long did it retane till it was burned quyte,
for anger than effaist his pane and all his doole despyte;

101

With him was he who first ourcame the Africans by sea,
and with him had that man who tuix Sardene and Scicilie
Disparpled all thair Nauall ost, and brought thame all to sak,
and one part brak, ane other drowned, the rest did captiwe mak.

I appius knew evin by his eyes that heavie war and blinde,
against the vulgar sort of folk vnplesand and vnkynde.
Than after thair I did espye that chiften goode and greate,
the conquerour of manye realmes which he did all defait,
Sweit, courteous, douce in all his deidis, who him behawed so
that nixt to Fame and to renoun he well deserwed to go,
Wer not his light wes neir at hand, and glorye in decay,
and yit with ws Italian folk he might bene weill, I say,
Evin he alone, as all these thrie was vnto Thebes toun,
Alcides, Bachus, Epaminond, of fame and brute renoun.
Bot oh! alace! to liue to long is to Suruiue to shame,
and longest lyfe through lenthe of yeares dois shorten but our name.

And him I saw who had his name for to be brawe disposed,
and in his youth great valiancye and proofes of praise disclosed;
And looke how Raw and how seueir he bloodye was and fearse,
evin far more courtess and beninge was he whome I reherse,
Whose manhoode was so excellent as skairslie I can tell,
Now whidder he as chiften did, or suldartlyke, excell.

Than after came Volumius who through weill knowen deids
represt the ranckled swelling rage that wepeth sore mens heids,
And swellis the bloode, and it infectis maliciouslye with byillis,
and putrefeing the corss of man both plageth and defyillis.
With him I spyed Rucilius, with Cossus Philon nixt,
and after hend to stand apart this thikkest light betuixt

102

Thrie valiant knyghts whose memberis war both lamed and hurt with wounder,
whose armour wes both loss and clowen and hinging all a sounder,
Luce Dentat, and Mark Sergius, and Cetius Sceua named,
thrie thunderboltis, thrie fyrie flaughts, thrie rokis of wars vntamed;
With thame wes cursed Cateline that did from Sergius springe,
successour of a wrongus fame, and cruell, inbeninge.

Than Marius after thair I spyed who Iugurth did subdew,
and Cymbais with the duchemens rage and furie owerthrew;
And Fuluius Flaccus thair I saw, who purpoislye did err
in heading of these thankles men that so ingraitfull wer;
Nixt him more noble Fuluius, with him I Gracchus spyed,
the father of these other two who did the toun dewyid,
Whose clattering nest and combersome the Romans oft hes rent,
and wes the causs that so greit death and so muche blood wes spent.
And him I saw who dois appeir to others blyithe and blist,
bot not to me who dois not sie suche grace in him consist,
Or yit to be within his thoughts and secrecie inclosed
a closed hart on which all happ and mishappe is reposed:
Heirby I do Metellus meane, his father and his air,
That from Numidia and from Spane the spoyle and booting baire,
From Macedone and Cretas Ile to Rome great riches brought,
and from these townis whairin such loss and saccage he hes wrought.

Than after hend Vespasian I spyed to walk with Fame,
with him his sone, both good and fair, who Titus heght by name,
And not that curst Domitian, vnworthie ay of praise;
Goode Nerua, and Traianus eik, iust princes in thair dayis,

103

And Helius Adrianus I with Antonie Pius spyed,
whose offspring and successioun in Marius did abyde,
Who had at leist to rewill and ringe a naturall desyre,
and gouerne in iustice and in right thair noble large impyre.
And whils with wandring eyes I lookt to spye the wandring way,
I saw the first foundatour of the Romane walls, I say;
With him fywe other Kings with fame did fordwart march and stapp,
The sevint lay charged on the ground with Ill and all mishapp,
Euin as it oft befallis to these that verteu dois forsake
to follou euill and wickidnes and vnto vyce thame take.

Finis .i. cap.

104

ii. The Secound chapter of the Triumphe of Fame.

Quhen as with merwell infinit and suche a noble sight
I was surprysed by deip desyre to sie these folk of might,
And that good martiall people brawe who wer in world but pane,
as suche a race within the same sall nevir appeare agane,
I Than vnto my scrolles and bookes reioyned so my eyes,
wherin thair names wer writtin all which wer in high degreis,
And these of gretest praise and pryce bot than I quikly knew;
my language was in nameing thame inferiour to my vew,
So that my speache thair praise impaird or all them not reherst;
and whils my mynd on this was sett ane other thought me perst,
And turned my eyes ane other way, when as I saw encroche
a trim consort of strangers stout more nerer to approche.

Amongs the first was Hanniball, with him Achilles brawe,
whose praise by Homer is depaint to frie from death and grawe,
With freinȝeis he imbroudered was of euerliving fame,
These Troians two who by thair deidis demereted the same;
With thame two Perseans great I saw, and Philip and his sone,
that to the Inds from Pella toun established his throne.

105

Not far from these I thair did sie ane other Alexander,
To whome dame fortoun in his feght such succes did not rander,
He ran not so as other did, he had lyke kynde of stay
quhen fortoun from trew honour doithe deuyde her self auay.

Thair in one knott the Thebanes thrie I spyed, as I hawe showen;
thair Diomed with Aiax and Vlisses might be knowen,
Who had to sie this spacious world so greit and deip desyre,
and Nestor who forsaw so muche, and knew all that impyre.
I Agamemnon lykwyse vewed with Menelaus thair,
that threw this world by cursed wyiffis in greit debait and cair;
Leonidas was thame amongs, who did with mirrie cheare
Propyne a denner hard and sharpe vnto his men of weir,
Bot harder and more horrible the supper he assingis
who in a litill part of ground did work greit wondrous thingis.
Than Alcibiades I espyed that oft did Athenis toun
evin when it list him to rewolt and turne vpsyde doun,
With sugred speache, and langage dowce, and with alluring words,
and with his brow and forret cleir restraned oft thair swordis.
With him was thair Milciades who tooke the yok from greace,
with him his sone, Thunonus good, was marcheing in that place,
Who with a perfyte pietie, and with a godlie mynde,
did chaine alywe him with these chaines that did his father bynde.
With these who so wer recompenst Themistocles drew neir,
and Theseus with Aristide a Fabrice might appeir,
To whome, alace, was interdyte thair kyndlie natiwe grawe;
bot yit the vyce of these that so suche malice did consawe

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Enobled more thair noble deids, for nothing more makis knowen
two contrareis than one by one by interspace is showen.
And Phocion with thame wes thair, whom I abowe hawe named,
rewarded evin with these alyke and equallie defamed;
For so his thankles countrye men not caused him onelye dee,
bot banisht evin his bouldest bones and maid vnburyed be.
As I me turned thair Pyrrhus I amang that troupe espyed,
with Massanissa that good king besydis him to abyde,
Who semed to be than malcontent, and for to gottin Wrong,
becaus he was not with his freindis the Romans plaist among.
With him I lookeing thair did sie the Syracusian king
called Hero, and thair than agane with him prease to thring
Hammilcar, distant far from thame, a man both ferse and raw;
and him who nacked from the flams escaped thair I saw,
Riche Cræsus, king of Lidia, who teaches ws this tale,
That no defence in fortouns spyte nor buckler can preuale.
I also Syphax than beheld Tormented in lyke sort,
and Brenus vnder whom did fall full manye a man athort,
And he agane yit afterwart in spoyling Delphos temple
was beaten doun and quyte ourthrowen to serwe for lyke example.

In strange attyre and vncouth cloths, and in that thikkest band,
this cumpanie wes thair amongs and with thame thair did stand:
And whils I bakwart turned my eyes I spyed a sort of men
all gathered wholie in a round, whair him I spyed then
Who first to god wold bwild a houss and church to him erect,
to dwell amang his creatures and for that same effect;
Bot he that did compleit the same I saw him cum behinde,
to whome this work was destitute, as we in scripture finde,

107

Who from the lowest partis thairof evin to the highest topps
did bwild the same, and mounted wp be manye Pinnis and propps,
And as I may coniectour weill and so the treuthe recorde,
he was not suche a Maister work nor builder with his Lorde.
Than after hend I him espyed to marche within that place
that with his god so homely was and Spak him face to face;
Few wer they, yea, none ever was, that heirin so might want
or with his god familiarlie so long a time did hant.
Thair him I spyed who band the Sun evin by his potent toung,
as beastis with thair bandis ar bound and beaten led and doung,
So he did mak the Sun to stay his foes to tract and trace,
till that he thame ourcuming all did all by death deface.
O gentle trust! O noble fayithe of these that servis thair god,
that all which he created hes makis subiect to thair nod,
And dois not only mak the Sun within his circle stay,
bot stable makis vnstable heavinis evin by one word, I say!
Than after I our father saw, to whome was gevin in charge
for to depairt out of his land by waistis and desertis large,
And for to go vnto that place which was be god elect
vnto the weill of mankyndis sowle and that for gude respect;
With him his sone and nevew was who trumped by his wyiff,
and Ioseph that was chaist and wyse and honest all his lyiff.
Extending than sa far my eyes as I had force and might,
beholding that which corporall eyes can not attane by sight,
I Thair iust Ezechias spyde, and Sanson thair defaist,
and him who first vpone the seis the Spacious Arke hes plaist;
And him I vewid who afterhend did builde that stable tour
that chargit was with Syn and shame by god his puissant pouer;
Than Iudas good from whome culd none draw from his fathers lawis,
who franklye for the lowe of treuth did rin in death hir clawes.

108

Alreddie was my great desyre all weryed, evin content,
and satisfied by these brawe sightis that so with fame than Went,
When that a quik and gallant lwik did mak me crawe to sie,
and stay for to behoulde the trowpe that Trimlie drew to me.
I saw within that rounde and ring a sort of brawelyk Dames,
Antiope and Eurithea, and so wer both thair names,
Fair in thair face, in armour cled; Hippolita also,
afflicted for Hippolitus, and pansiwe, full of woe,
And Menalippe thair I saw; these dames so agill wer
and reddie to withstand that force, that any Would infer
That it was evin a gretast proofe of Theseus manly might
and Hercules who thame ourcame by hard and doubtfull fight.
I thair that Wedow saw who did securelie sie hir sone,
whose happie dayes of gretest hope wer by his death vndone,
Bot shee revengde the same with speid on Cyre who wrought the same,
as she in cutting of his heide hes cut away his fame:
For seing his vnhappie end, and als his shameles deathe,
It dois appeir that be his fault he hourly daylie heathe
So maid him selff to daylie die, and all his former fame
to be supprest and buryed be togeather with his name.

Than saw I hir who happelie did sie the toun of Troy,
togeathir with that Virgine fair that did Æneas noy,
And that courageous Valiant Quene, with one tress of hir hair
knitt wpp when that the other hang evin sparpled to hir spair,
So sone she hard that Babilon rewolted from hir croun
did bring thame bak, and stayed the reiff begun within hir toun.

With hir I saw Cleopatra, toucht with vnworthie flame,
and likwyse saw I in that dance Zenobia of greate fame,

109

Bot very sparing of hir glore, and of hir honour hard,
in vsage fair, and in hir youthe of cumelie sweit regard;
And lwik how muche she in hir age and bewtye praise possest,
So muche hir glorye and renoun by honestie increst;
Within hir hart thought womanlye suche constancye remaned
that she thame caused to stand in dreid that others had disdaned;
Hir visage fair, hir face most sweit, hir hair with helmet armed,
abaist our emperouris hart and mynde, and courage queld and charmed,
Althought at last he sore assayld and captiwe twik that quene,
and maid hir to our brawe Triumphe a rechar pray be sene.
And now suppose vpone these names I both be breiff and short,
yit will I more discourse, and of fair Iudithe mak report,
That bould and hardie wedow chaist, who brought vnto the deid
that dronkin foolish Holipherne, and cut from him his heid.
And sall I now lewe me behind or Ninus sall forgett,
from whome all historeis beginnis, and not with thame him sett?
Or yit is heir in that empyre whose arrogance and pryde
conducted to a bestiall lyfe in It sevin ȝeir to byde?
Or Belus yit sall I oursie, from whome did errour spring,
not by his fault, bot by his sone who did it first in bring?
Wheare now dois lurk Zorastres that magik artis Invent,
or yit these men who of our dwkes that in a curst ascent
And frowar star did Euphrate pass with lose and shame also,
Whose evill conduct in Italie emplasters yit thair woe?
Quhair Is Mithridates the greit, a mortall foe to Rome,
and our eternall ennemie vnto his deathe and dome,
Who soldring wp his brokkin loss and his oft crased harmes,
in sommer and in wintar fled befoir the Romane armes?

I manye thingis of great reporte dois in ane boundell knitt:
whair is he now king Arthure that at Table round did sitt?

110

Wheare be these Augustis Cæsars, thrie victorious, one of Spane,
of Aphrica ane other was, the last of Lorrane ane?
Whills I so this victorious Fame triumphing so dois sie,
I lykwise spyed tuelf noble knights his Palladins to be.

Than Godefray cam syne a lone, a Duke of fayithe and trust,
who maid a holy interpryse, whose stepps and wayes wer iust;
He, he alone, that valiant prince did with his valiant handis
rebuild that keped Cairles Nest that in Ierusalem standis;
This thing, alace, dois causs my woe, this worketh my disdane,
this is the thing for which I crye, and call so oft in vane,
Is prydefull christians miserable;—goe! goe! yea misers now,
and drink eache one ane others bloode with setled othes and wow!
Goe wourke eache one ane others wrake and others eache distroy,
and euerie one against your selff dois all your spyte employ!
Ȝe cairles ar how that the grawe of Iesus Chryist remanis
within the handis of fayithles dogs and Turkis who it retanis.
Bot after these whome I did sie, if I be not deceawed,
I saw but few, or none at all, that might renoun hawe crawed,
That by thair art in planting peace, or skill in hardie fight,
or doubtfull yok in hard combatt appeared to my sight;
Zit as the chosen men behind and cheifest oftest goe,
I saw in end of all the troupes that Sarrasyne our foe,
That brought vnto our christianis bothe skayith and blushing shame;
and Heguius, sone of Luria, did follow him with fame;
The Duke of Lancaster wes thair, who with his sworde and lance
a nighbour curst and troublesome was to the realme of france.

Thus gasing on this famous sight, I at that tyme and space
did lwik lyke one who did adwance his fitstepps and his pace

111

To mak sum thingis he hes not sene, so I did fordward goe
To sie gif thair war anye moe then these that I did knoe:
Quhair thair I spyed two noble wightis who laitlye, oh, did die,
Who of our countrye men wer glore and praise of Italie,
Who wer inclosed in that band, and marched on with Fame,
good Robert of Scicilia, king of vndefamed name,
Who in his knowledge most sublime and foresight most profound
did Argus lyke sie thingis far of and weill discerned thair ground;
The other that did marche with him was my Colonna great,
courageous, gentle, constant, large and liberall in his state.

Finis .2. cap.

112

iii. The thrid Chapter of fame.

I culd no wayes returne my eyes from suche a famous sight,
nor yit conwert thame from these men of manhoode full of might,
When that I hard one say agane, “Looke on thyne other syde,
whair Fame and Praise and brawe renoun with other folk dois byde
By other meanes than vse of armes.” So turning to my left
I Plato first espyed thairin with honour first infeft,
Who in that cleir and cumelie band did nerrest marche these sings,
to whiche he narrest dois approche, to whome the heavinis these brings.
Than nixt to Plato thair did go, so godlie and dewyne,
great Aristotill, replenished with full and high ingyne,
And after him Pithagoras, that homelie first did name
Philosophye evin by the same so worthye of greit fame;
Than Socrates with Zenophon, nixt him that aged Man
To whome the Muses wer his freindis, as Troy and Argus can
With Micen yit resent his pen, who song the long astrayes
and errouris of Laertes sone and boulde Achilles praise;
In hand cam singing on that Mantuan poet brawe,
and strywing which of thame suld first the way and passage hawe;

113

The one I spyed whose stepps the grass transformed in a flour,
Mark Cicero, who cleirlie shawes what fruit, what force and power
Hes eloquence and ornat speache, so that these two be thame,
which wer the eyes of Latine toung, hes lightned muche the same.

Than after cam Demosthenes, all in a flame he went,
disparing of the formest place and not with nixt content;
Nixt him was Æshines in preiss, who thair might weill hawe knowen
in what respect his voyce was hoarse and by the other ourthrowen.
I can not weill in ordour tell whome first I saw and when
to follow or yit go afore amangs these leirned men,
For windring at Ten thousand things of that fair trowpe and band,
my eyes and thoughts did both astray and wer not at command.

I Solon saw who of goode lawis establish[t] first the plant
that now soe will manwred Is, and dois hir fruit now want;
With him these other leirned Sax, the grecian sax and wyse,
of whome dois greik so noblye vaunt and yeildis thame first the pryse;
With these I also did behold him whome our countrye men
as chiften had for to conduct thame evin with other Ten,
I Varro meane, the thrid greit light of Romans high ingyne,
whome more that I in face beheld he semed more to shyne.
Crisp. Salust than appered nixt, with him I Liuius spyed,
who frowardlie did him regaird and greitlye him Inwyed.
Whills I thame than did sie, behoulde than quiklye did I sie
Greit Plinius his nighbour nixt and marrow for to be,

114

Who tooke more cair to wryte his bookes than to forisee his death,
whom Somma hill with brinstone blasts did stopp his vitall breath.
Than after I Plotinus saw, one learnd of Platois sect,
who trusting secreitlie to liwe did for the same effect
With draw him quietlie apairt with no man to be sene;
bot him his fearse and cruell fates and desteneis did prevene,
Which he contraited in hir wombe from whense he first did come,
so not his foresight him awaild, this was his fatall dome.
Than Crassus, Galba I beheld, Calvus with Pollio,
Hortensius with Antonius, who so in pryde did go
To arme thair toungs and scharpe thair mouthes in Cicerois disgrace,
and searcheing for vnworthie fame did falslye thairs incress.
Thucicides I lykwyse saw that weill distings the place,
the tyme, togeather with the feates, the querrell, and the cace,
And trewlie tellis be whose mens bloode so feirslye shed in store
the barren feildis was fertill maid and fatter then before;
Herodotus I lykwyse saw of all Historiens greik
the father, that thair workis full wreitt and trewlie of thame spak.

And Euclide, geometrien, that dois depaint most sound
Triangls with the quadrat formes, the Circles, and the round;
And Porphir quho aganist the trewth became as hard as stone,
who with his Silogismes vntrew and fals he did compone
Assaild to shake the rockis of treuth, bot in Dialectik quick,
and fild the same with argumentis in number great and thick.
I also saw Hipocrates, both bred and borne in Co,
that more had maid his workis perfyte and far more better so
If that his subtill Aphorisms had weill bene vnderstand.
Appollo than with Æsculap I saw than neir at hand,

115

Bot thay war plaist abowe my sight, with tyme war worne away,
so nather by thair face nor name I culd thame know, I say.
Than Galene great of Pergame toun did follow nixt that band,
of whome did hinge that noble art on which our helth dois stand,
That now amangs ws lyis abused, so clene corrupt and waist,
vyle, abiect, and prophaned now, by euerie one disgraist;
Bot in his dayes it wes not so, thought dark it was and short,
Yit furslie he declared of It, and largelie did report.
I feirles Anaxarches saw, of manly port and mynde,
with him Zenocrates the chaist, that nowayes him Inclynde
Vnto infamous vyld attemps, bot thame withstoode eache one,
So that in euerye point he did resemble a solide stone.
Thair followed Archimedes nixt with visage baise on ground,
and Democrit that pansiwe walkt thair in that trowpe was found,
Who with his will and but constraint did with his sight inlake
the light, the gold, the Riches great, whiche he did all forsake;
And Hippia I saw lykwyse, with him ould Gorgeas,
that bouldlye vanted that he knew all thingis that ever was;
And after him Archesilaus of all thingis for to doubt,
and Heraclite within his sworde more planer spokken owt.

Diogenes I also spyed, so doggish in his wordis,
and planer than more plesanter a scuffer in his bwrdis;
And Anaxagoras I beheld who blythelie did regaird
his feildis to ly desert and wyld of which he litill caird,
Whiche he did deme to bring Envye, so that he thame forsooke,
and charged with raches and with skill his raches he did brooke.
Thair Curius Dicearchus was, nixt him wer other thrie,
in discipline most different, and distant in degree,
Quintilianus, Seneca, Plutarchus maist renound,
that so in learning muche exceld as dois thair work resound.

116

I saw a rowt of clattering men the seis of Treuthe to storme
with contrare windye argumentis, not to the treuthe conforme,
Who through thair erring vaginge thoughts wer famous maid and cleir,
yit rather by contentioun than wisdome they did leir;
They shuldringlie rusht other owt, togeather they did raill,
as Lyonis two togeather knitt, and Serpentis taill by Taill.
O now quhat bedlem men be these, quhat madlyke fools indeid,
that are content with trifling toyes and further not proceid!
And then I saw Carneades, who was of suche a witt,
and in his studeis so expert, so reddie, prompe, and fitt,
And in his speaches and brawe discourse his toung he had at will,
that skairsly suld one be him knowen the right almost from Ill;
His lyfe so long, his high ingyne, and greit abundant vane
Did mak him than to vndertak with trawell greit and pane
For to accorde these contrare sects that then war at great Iarrs,
whom literall furour did conduct vnto such lasting warrs;
Bot this he culd not weill performe, for evin as arts did grow,
so lykwyse did enwy and stryfe and discord with thame flow,
And with thair knawlege and thair skill, and with thair learned artis,
arayse lykwyse that poysned spark within thair bowdned hartis.
And Epiceur, who wold him self aganis that gratious man,
who raising wpp mans mortall hope, I thair espyed than,
Did prowe his soule Immortall be, that so yit epiceur
that bouldlye spak aganis that man dois now greit shame indeur;
Bot gif he preiss to challenge fame, what can it ellis more be
than borrowing it from Platois stryfe with whome he culd not grie?

117

And Lippus thair lykwyse I saw, with him two wer at hand
that to his maister equall war that progrest in that band,
I Methradore with Aristipp do meane, for thease be thay
that in the Epicurien sect wer iudged best that day.

Than did I spye Chrysippus so evin with a woundrous spindill
and with a large and brodest roll his threid & webbs to windill,
Who by greit tyme and high Ingyne did glorious works compose,
and in the same much learned skill did learnedlie disclose.
Than after thair I Zeno spyed, the father of his sect,
and for his ornat clerest speache abowe the rest erect,
Who for to gif more proofe of It this sing and show did giwe,
was opning wpp his hand and palme and falding than his Niwe.
I saw Cleantes, who to stay and stable his intent
did gentlye Weawe his brawest webbs on which he was most bent,
And curiouslye, with earnist cair, to cairfullye prowyid
To mak thair fals opinionis with Verite to byid:
Bot I him leawe heir with the rest who did by fame surmont,
that I more grawe and better things heirafter may recount.

Finis Triumphi famȩ.

118

The Fyift Triumphe of Tyme.

Furthe from his golden Ins and tent, afore Aurora fair,
The Sun evin belted in his beames did from his place repair,
And Isseued owt with swifter course than one Would evin hawe said
he was abowe our Hemisphere vplifted with a braid;
And heir a litill staying, than he lookes him round about,
as dois the wyse and sagest men for thingis thay stand in dowbt,
And to him selff with in him selff with rage beginnis to say:
“quhat thinkis thow best now to be done, what will thow do this day?
Now is the houer that thow sould hawe evin of thy selff more cair,
becaus thow seis that mortall men, whose dayis dois death impair,
Yit being deid do no wayes die bot by thair fame dois liwe,
and by thair vertewus famous acts do far thair death surviwe.
If it so be as it dois seme that law salbe in vane,
that so the heavins fixt with ws so stable to remane,
And gif the fame of mortall men by death dois more incress,
which ought by death to quenshed be and quikly brought to less,
Than of my glore and excellence must cum my fall and end,
and suddenlie for which I rage sall all to ruine tend.
What gretar wrong must I looke for, quhat worser may be fall,
that I no more sall hawe in heavin than man on earthlie ball?
So far inferiour is my state, and basser is my cace,
That I might equall be with man, I crye of speciall grace;

119

And yit four barded breathing horss with cair I intertane,
and in the Occean tham dois feid so long as I remane,
I with my spous dois spur thair sydis and whipps thame with my wand,
and yit aganis me dois a mans vndantound fame with stand.
If I war in the glorious heavins of Starrs not onelye he
who first is of the Planettis all and highest in degrie,
Bot evin the secunde, or the thrid, It wer, as I now say,
ane Iniurie by hatred cumed, and not through sport and play.
So now it weill besemeth me to kendle all my ȝeill,
and to my flight Ioyne double wingis that I may more prewaill.
Now do I grudge at mortall men, I beare them now Inwye,
I hate and now despysis thame, nor can I this denye,
Whome all I sie, yea, afterhend a thousand thousand yeares,
thay floorish more than in thair lyfe and famous more appeares,
And I not more, bot to remane Environed with woe,
and can not gett beyond my greifis, nor yit beyond thame goe;
I am evin as I was at first, no better is my state,
nor yit my glorie more hes growen, nor yit my fame more greate;
And so I am as first I was before the earthe was plaist,
ay turning in a circled scheit, day, night, but end, in haist.”

When that the Sun these wordis had said with greif & grit disdane,
he than reseumd a swifter course far spediar more agane,
So that the same more sudden was than falcon In his flight,
that from the high discending doun vpone his pray do light.
The thought of man may not attane, far les his tounge and style,
for to Imagine what I saw with feare and dreid this whyle.

Than did I recken all our lyfe most abiect, vyle, and vane,
evin by his swift and rinning course which nothing might restrane,
Whose solid course and movement did cause me Iudge much more
the same to be contemptebill which gentle I held before.

120

Whair than I thought it vanitie, a vaness wondrous great,
that so our hartis suld liwe to that whose stay and whole estait
Tyme dingeth and depressis doun, and whillis we more do think
to holde thame fast, we leist tham hold and passeth at a clink;
He thairfore who hes of his state ones sowcy, cair, and feare,
let him prowyid and weill foirsee that so it may appeare,
Whillis as he may through hevinlie grace, his hope so founded be
and stablisht in a stable place of long eternitie.

For when I saw the Turning tyme so gallantlie to go,
and lightlye rin behind his gwyde that hes no rest nor ho,
Whose swiftnes was so wonderfull, so infinit and large,
that for to tell my toung nor thought be able of that charge;
For thair without distructioun at all at any tyme
I saw the frost with Roses mixt, the harwest with the pryme,
And that which semed more wonderfull, I saw, evin at one point,
the nipping colde with ferwent whote and fyrie flams conioynt;
And he who with a Iudgement firme dois all these thingis regard,
in tyme sall sie thame so to be; for which I litill caird
In these my rekles youthles dayes, and in my lustie age,
which makis me now dispyte my selff and with my selff to rage;
For than my hope did follow muche my foolish vane desyre,
and bothe my hope and foolish thoughts to folye did aspyre,
Quhair now in eild before my eyes of Conscience is a glass,
whairin my self and faultes I spye, and what sumtymes I was,
And as much as I may see me to my deathe declyne,
remembring of my litill lyfe and of my latter fyne,
Whair in the morning I see me a gallant chylde and light,
and now a havie, feble, waik, and aged man at night.

What than is more mans mortall lyfe or longer than a day,
coulde, cluddie, short, and full of woe, that quiklye waistis away?

121

It brawe may seme and long appeir through outward shaw to be,
bot all that fair apparance Is of litill worthe we sie.
Quhat humane hope, quhat mortall trust, quhat ioy dois men so blinde,
what makis these mortallis folke to be so proude in mynde,
Or yit so puftlye lift thair headis in vanetie and pryde,
and knowest not how they sone sall die, or long in lyfe sall byde?
I now behoulde evin of my lyfe the flight to be at hand,
and with the same the dayes of all whairin men liwe and stand,
And in the swift and fleing course of this resplendant Sun,
I sie the world wrack is cumed and rwine is begun.

O lustye bloods, I sie yow now your selfis to confort soe,
and in your folye all delyte and further thairin goe;
Yow all ar cairles of your death, yow measure all the tyme
evin with the largest, thinking it salbe ay in pryme:
Liue for to die, think on your deathe, for deathe on you dois call;
the hurt foirsene bringis lesser harme and doole when it dothe fall.
Perchance I sparple all my speache most vanelie to the wind,
bot that I tell for treuth it hould and keip it in your mynd;
if to my speache yow tak no heade and not my counsell keip,
your branes do all oppressed lye with heavie deidlie sleip.
For this muche more yow ought to mark, becaus the houers and dayis,
the Monthis, the yeares to gretar goes, togeather all decayis,
And we with litill Interwall and litill distant space
hawe all to searche for other partis, for other rowmes and place;
Do not against the treuthe thairfoir your hardned hartis indure,
as ye haif done and practised vnto this tyme and houer,
Bot turne your eyes vnto your self, and spye quhair ȝe offend,
and prease your selfis, whils as ȝe may, your faultis and sinnis to mend;

122

Abyde whill deathe bend his bow or yit delashe his shaft,
as dois the moist part of the world which is a band most daft.

Than after that I had espyed, as I now cleir espye,
the flight and chaise of Phœbus fair that rolleth in the skye,
from which by Tyme such heavie loss and harmis I do sustane,
I saw a sort and kynde of folk in silence walkt agane,
But feare of tyme, or of his rage, or of his furious faird,
whome Poets and Historiens did keip within thair guaird;
The Sun had more enwye at thame, and bwir thame more despyit,
who by thair knawlege and thair witt and verteuis most perfyit
Wer mounted to suche topp of praise that never semed decay,
who passed from the vulgare trace and cage and commoun way;
In contrare thame he, onlye he, who onlye fair dois shyne,
with gretar force did him adres to mak thame all declyne,
So that he than began agane a course more swift & greate,
and to his horse redoubled wer thair prowendare & meate;
And shee of whome I wreit before, I meane the quene of Fame,
deworst hir self from some of hirs who lyeth now but name.

I sometymes hard, bot yit of whome I can not tell nor say,
and this much also hawe I red and tane the same away,
that all these humane worldlie workis, that Primprint may be cald,
ar pittis of blind obliuioun whare darklye men ar thrauld;
Ane other sentence hawe I red, that Phebus in his spheir
sall by his force revolt, and turne not ones a single yeare
Bot Lustres and that longer age of hunder yeares account,
sall ouer the death of mortall men victoriouslye surmount,
And by this revolutioun we sall beholde agane
mens famous and illustrious fames to pass away in vane.

123

For looke how muche they wer renound who wer betuix these floods
whair Peneus rinnis and Hebrus slydis, and all these folkisincludis
Of Macedone, of Thracia, and of Thessalia,
that borders with Boetia and landis of Attica,
Or yit so sunder distant be as far as Zanthus rins
whair Troianis duelt, and Tiber now whairin the Romans wins;
The fame of all these people brawe hawe haisted to thair end,
and, gif not yit, they yit sall sone all to that Iornay tend.
I hard lykwyse one say: “your fame no otherwise dois byid
than dois a plesant changeing blenk shyne in the Wintar tyd,
Whiche sone a litill cludde obscuris and brekis and maketh dark,
and to great names great tymes to be a great and vennemous spark;
Your Triumphs and your prydfull pompe sall all to dust declyne,
your lordshippes sall all pass away, & than your kingdomes syne;
Your helthe, strenth, age, all mortall thingis, lyfe, fame with fair renoun,
tyme waistis, makes waks, defaces, killis, distroyes and beated doun;
And alss from these of menest rank sall than be tane away
not only that whiche outwardlie tyme brought vnto decay,
Bot evin thair knawlege, learning, skill, proportioned with thair witt,
thair eloquence, and thair ingyne, sall quiklie from thame flitt;
Nor yit sall tyme, who dois this world turne in his wandring flight,
that never restis, not yit returnis, leawe of to shaw his might
Afore all mortall men be him, both godlie and vniust,
be all reduced to earthlie ash and to a litill dust.

124

Bot sum may say, ‘sen humane glore and this thair famous pryde
hes suche a multitude of hornes and prickes against hir syde,
No merwell is that it be perst, if it soiourne and duell
beyond the commoun custumed vse, this dois the vulgar tell.’
Bot lett thame pratt; if that our lyfe in haist did not consume,
we sone suld sie all humane gloir to pass away like fume.”

I hearing this, and now becaus none shuld the treuth with stand,
Bot thairto fayith and credeitt gif but doubt or more demand,
I saw our glore incontinent, our pompe and glorious show,
to faid, to waist away, to melt evin as the Sun dois snow;
And than I saw that Turning tyme to hawe brought bak agane
the spoyle and pray of all your names which I estemed all vane,
And to be of no importance, suppose the vulgar sort
beleueth not, nor yit dois know, bot otherwayes report.

O people blinde, that so yow playes and sportis yow with the winde,
and dois on fals opinioun feid and errouris of the mynde,
With gretar praise advanceing more that death that growis by age,
than that which in the Creddill comes and futur greifs dois swage!
How happie ar alreddie these that deitt in swadling bandis!
how wretched more that through thair age death to thair grawe demandis!
And some thair be manteneth this, and hold it for no scorne,
To deme thame happie most and blist that never hes bene borne.
Bot lett this people answer me, with errouris so acquent,
that through the lentheninge of thair lyfe they seme so weill content,

125

And thinkis thair growing age sall mak thair fames more famous grow,
quhat is it worthe whiche they so pryse? I pray thame let me know—
Confused dreames, and pufts of winde, vane fables, sturt, and stryfe,
this is the fame that they do crawe be long desyred lyfe.
So far is tyme so cowetous, and wars so much in wreath,
that that which now is called fame he makis a seconde death,
For whose defence and steidfast stay thair is no more remeid
than wes for our first former lyfe, so swiftlye tyme dois speid
For to Triumphe abowe the fame and glore of mortall men
and of this world miserable, a dungeoun dark, and den.

Finis Triumphi temporis.

126

The Saxt and Last Triumphe of Immortalitie.

Quhen than I saw no mortall thingis so ferme and stable stand
now whether the same in seis may be, in air, or earthe, or land,
Or vnder heavin anye thing bot totteringlie declyne,
vnstable in thair trustles course, I left these eyes of myne,
And with my selff vnto my selff to speik I than began,
“one Whome hes thow thy hoipe and fayith now fixed, o wratched man?”
My answer wes than in this sort: “Evin in that god and Lorde
who fayithfull in his promeis is, all falsett hes abhorde,
Who in his treuthe most steidfast Is, and in his doingis iust,
and blissit thame of speciall grace that in him puttis thair trust.

Bot now, alace, I know to weill, and to my shame I see,
how that this blinde deceatfull world hes blindlinis scorned me;
Now is the vayle tane from my eyes, I sie now what I am,
and quhat in tymes past hawe I bene I now beholde the sam,
And now I lwik how that the tyme dois pass, dois goe, and flie,
and knoweth none bot evin my self for this suld blamed be;
For that the fault cam be my self, who tymelie suld foirsene
to opned wpp the lowring lidds and windowis of my ene,
And not so driftinglie deferd, nor taryed to this tyme
that hes to long prolonged my aige so cairles in hir pryme.

127

Bot when agane I call to mynde the goodnes of our lord,
and how from age all ages dois his merceis great record,
Who of his hevinlie gratious grace wes never late nor slaw,
on him I fix my confidence, that he sall mak me shaw
Some worthie workis of ferwent fayith or I from hence do pass,
or yit this catiffe combred corss returne to dust or ass.”

Thus as I wes within my self discoursing to and froe—
“thow that all earthlie mortall thingis dois in thair changeing goe,
Who hes thair standing so vnsure, what than thair end sal be,
that thus the heavins circled course do guyde thame so we see?”—

This pansing so, and whils my mynde the more on this was bent,
Or it semed to me that to this world a change in haist wes sent,
In place thairof a new in age, not subiect to decay,
Eternall and Immoveable, that sall no change assay.
Thair than appered the splendant Sun with all the heavinis round,
the twinkling starris, the spacious seis, and all this earthlie ground,
With all thair bewtye and thair grace so suddanlie defaist,
and in thair rowme a mirrier world and newar brawelie plaist.
Quhat wounder and quhat merwell than did not my thoughts assay,
quhen that I saw the moveing heavinis vpone one fute to stay,
That never wonnt to stable stand, bot in thair race and course
confusedlie all thingis to change, renverss, and to rebourse.
And thair the thrie partis of the Sun I saw all brough to one,
and that same one not haveing course, nor motioun haveing none,
Nor yit to be as it was wonnt to speid him self and haist,
bot for to be evin lyke the earthe, of herbis full bair and waist.

128

For nather sall nor was nor Is, afore or yit behinde,
nor such distructioun of the tymes that by the heavins we finde
Sall more haif place, which wonnt to mak the lyfe of man with all
waik, seiklie, fragill, and infirme, and bitterer than the gall;
And as the Sun transparant Is owt through the glistring glass,
so sall the thoughts of mortall men more through & swiftlie pass;
For they no fancie sall retane whairin the glass Is sene
some obiect through the sonnye beames that so resplendant bene.
O what a grace sall be to me if so that I culd gane
that high, that cheiff, and souerane good, and thairto might attane,
Whair is no ewill, which only tyme so mixis and Inwertis,
and with the tyme dois only come and with the tyme departis!

Nor sall the Sun more hawe his place or mansioun in these sings
of Pisces or the horned Bull, which saesoun change inbringis
Vpon our laubouris and our workis, in which they faid and grow,
and gendered ar or ellis consumed, as we by proofe dois know.
O blissed spreittis that ar so found within his holye queare,
or in that hevinlie cumpanie so happie dois appeare,
Who makis tham self of mortall folk to be Immortall men,
and registers thair noble names by long eternall Pen!
O happie he that findis the fwirde of this sharpe raging flood
that lyfe is cald, to worldlie men both Ioyfull, glad, and good!
O cateiff ar these vulgar sort, blinde both in eyes and mynde,
that hes thair hoipe, thair trust, thair thought, to these things all inclynde,
Which eating and consuming tyme so quiklye dois destroy,
and nothing ellis dois leawe behind bot sorrow and anoy!
O people deiff, in hearing hard, both naked, fraill, and waik,
of reasoun woyde, of counsell poore, that Iudgement dois inlaik,

129

Seik euery quhair, diseased in all, and destitute of grace!
O mortall misers miserable, that knowest not god this space,
That with the twinkling of his ee dois rewll this massiwe round,
that calmes and stormes the elementis of contrars so compound,
Whose glorie is so infinit none can it comprehend,
no mortall wights, nor nather I, nor angellis that attend
Vpone his Maiestie dewyne, who ar with him acquent,
and of his glorie to sie on pairt for thousandis ar content!
O wandring myndis that hingis in doubt and houngrie ay in end!
to what effect dois all your thoughts to trouble yow intend,
When that a moment of ane houer sall shaddowles leawe voyd
that vpon which so many yeares yow hawe your panis employid?
For that which long tyme past before or present is in sight,
which was the strene, or yit tomorrow, in morning, or at night,
Or anye vther course of tyme, all changed sone sall be,
and not one point sall pass away as we a shaddow sie.

Thair sall no more heirafter than Is, was, nor sall hawe place,
bot only all in present be in nor this day and space,
And sall eternitie be gathred whole inteir,
and all such other obstacles sall from ws far reteir;
And all these markis vnited of before or yit behinde
sall quiklye thair defaced be that occupeid the mynde;
Nor nather sall such obiect be, nor yit suche sight remane,
on which our hope and memorie sall thairto farther strane,
Which variant vew makis oftentymes impudent men to panss,
and vanelie in thair vanetie to tak a foolish trance,
Whose thoughts ar in thame selfis so vane, they think thair lyfe a play
in deming suirlie they sall be to morrow as the day.

130

Thair salbe no diuisioun of les from les at all,
bot all sall ioyntlie be conioyned and framed in this ball;
Nor after that great tryall day the sommer tyme sall last,
nor wintar with the sturdie stormes and with hir busling blast,
bot all sall change, and with the same evin tyme by death sall die,
and all this changeles solid place that day sall changed be.
For nather than sall haistie tyme, that waists away and weares,
and swiftlye passis but returne, nor yit these present yeares
heirafter hawe within thair hand the goverment of fame,
that dois belong to mortall men, and purchest hes the same;
But that which ones was pure and cleir sall ay be cleir and suir,
and that which ones so famous was Eternall sall indwir.
O blissed sowles and happie these that ar vpoun that way,
or yit heirafter ar to cum that iornay to assay,
Or to that end thair lyfes addres on which I do indyte,
and with such zeale and feruencie thairof dois speak and wryte!

And thair amongs these glorious sancts and Pilgrims she sal be
whome death afore hir dayes defaist and maid vntymelie die;
Than salbe sene before these sancts hir angelict discourse,
hir honest wordis, hir chaistfull thoughts of honestie the sourse,
All which Dame nature to hir praise, to mak hir more be graist,
within hir young and tendar hart for honour had implaist.
These faces fair that tyme with death had so distroyed and slane
sall to thair flooruishing state returne bak agane,
Whair then the visage of my dame most hevinlie salbe sene,
whose loyall lowe so long a space did so me bound detene.

And for that euerie thing sall be vnto the sanctis maid knowen,
so thair sall I amongs that band whome lowe hes so ourthrowen

131

Be pointed at with all thair handis, and euerie one sall say:
“beholde the man for Lauras saik that plaind both night and day,
Yit notwithstanding all his plaints, his woe, his doole, his noy,
he happier Is than anye man that hes enioyed more Ioy.”
And than to hir of whome I wryte and wepinglie dois sing,
my constant fayith and loyall hart great wounder sall inbring,
And mak hir merwell at hir selff, when all that hevinlie rowt
sall hawe thair toungs, and all thair voyce furth in hir prais brek owt.
Quhen this salbe I know not well, bot Laura weill dois ken,
for that the credeit of these thingis belongs vnto these men
And wemen who are of that trowpe and cumpanie elect,
companions with the fayithfull flok whom god with crownis hes deckt.
Bot sen these secreatis secreit be, who thairto can attane,
or who sall then dissolwe this doubt, or gif ane answer plane?
bot yit so far as mortall men coniecteur may or gess,
evin as the day dois neir approche, so dois the world wax less;

Quhair than the conscience of all men sall giwe a iust account
bothe of thair fals and iustest gane before his throne and mount,
Quhair thay thair laubouris, panes, and workis, and trawellis all sall sie
the instrumentis vnto thair wrak and spyders webbs to be;
Thair sall they lykwise sie and know how presentlie in vane
thay plundge thame selfis in vanest cairs to conqueiss worldlie gane,
And how to long, most folishlye, they tyre thame selfs and sweat,
when so in end they sall perceawe thame troumpet by deceat.
And at that tyme and on that day no secreit sall be than
To cower or close, to hyde or shute, the hartis & thoughts of man,

132

Bot euerie conscience than sall be dark, duskish, or ellis cleir,
and naked sal before the world and opned than appeir;
And than that glorious god and Iudge, who weill these thingis do knaw,
pronunce sall then his Iudgementis iust and sentence furthe sall shaw,
Whair after It the godles men sall tak thame to thair way,
as dois the wyld dispersed beasts, whome houndis dois putt in fray,
Returne with speid vnto the woods to hyde thame in thair hole,
so wicked men sall haist to hellis, thair for thair sins to thole;
And at that tyme thair salbe sene, and on that tryall day,
possessionis earthlye, ratches greit, and glorye without stay,
High digniteis, and Princelie Pompe, to which men did attane,
no proffeit nor yit glorye bring bot rather loss than gane.

Bot on the other syid, the iust whom god hes tane to grace
salbe vpliftit to the heavinis and thair beholde his face,
For thay did brydle so thair willis, and vsed thair fortoun so,
that it was reinȝed with modestie and did not higher go;
Whair thay sall ioy in happines and in eternall bliss,
but pompe or pryde or glorye vane that so men leadis amiss.

These Triumphs fywe we on this earth hawe sene thame bothe and knowen,
The sax, when it sall pleis our god, sall ws abowe be showen,
Whair tyme that all thingis dois vndoe and bringis vnto ane end,
and greadie death that in hir rage dois on hir pray intend,
Sall both togeather be defaist, and bothe to death be brought,
who by the force of thair impyre suche spoyle on all hes wrought.
Bot these who mereitis lasting Fame, though quhill they liwed heir
Tyme with despyte conseuminge It did waiste away and weir,

133

And these fair lookes and bewtye brawe, that gallant sight and hew
That death and tyme did palish mak, sall brawe agane renew;
Obliuioun and suche vglie sights, so hideous, horrible, sad,
salbe agane to thame restored, so felloun and so mad;
and in a far more fresher age our soules sall than reclame
Immortall bewtye ay to last with long eternall fame.

Wheare then afore all other folk in that eternall glore,
Ma donna Laura, ladye fair, sall formost be before,
Whome now this world dois with his plaintis and with my toung requyre,
and with my weryed Pen to sie dois earnistlye desyre;
The heavinis likwyse dois earnistlie prease to hawe the same,
that they may hir whole ioyned inioy vnto hir former frame.
Thair Is a floode from Giben flowes vpone whose bank and syde
thair lowe so long a lasting woe did vnto me prowyde,
The memorie whairof, alas, dois make me yit to shrink,
so that I tremble night and day and fantis thairon to think.

O blissed stone! o happie grawe, that dois within inclose
the fairest face of feminine, yea, of the world the chose!
If I was happie than estemed, or Iudge my self than blist,
when I on earth beheld thy corpss, or Death hath cutt the twist
That did Prolong thy glorious lyfe, whois wrak dois work my woe,
and causis so my sore lamentis my pleasouris to ourthroe,
When sall I be when I sall sie the in the heavinis decord
with glorye, and thy glorious corpss vnto hir soule restord?

134

Epiloge

Now with this work my panis sall end, and heir my pen sall stay,
with earnest prayer to my god to leade me in that way
Of lasting lyfe and livinge fame, and that I may forsake
these trifling toyes and vane conceats that dois my vertew shake,
And by example of this wight, who first this work dois wryte,
my toung may speik, my pen may of the glorye of god Indyte.

Finis.

Deo honor et gloria.
Plurimum facere, nimium de se ipso loqui prudentioris est.

Plautus.