University of Virginia Library

Now boystrous Boreas hath left off
his puffing blastes to blowe,
Now haue the foming seas theyr will
to ebbe or for to flowe:
The troubled sayler he doth laugh
to see the waues at rest,
The marchant he triumphes for ioy,
and thinkes the Gods haue blest
Him carefull man: whose carefull head
is troubled howe to keepe
Unruly barke of his, from wracks
of suche as dayly creepe
From shore to shore, still practising
howe they myght gette the gayne
Of suche things as the marchaunt he
hath woonne with cruell payne.
Dooth not the theeuishe rouer sporte
when hee at anker lyes,
Whiche lately with outragious cryes
his ending day espyes?
Dooth he not thinke that Neptune God
hathe ridde hym out of thrall?
Or did not that Aeneas vile,
whiche Captayne was of all


The lande and goods that Dido queene
was able for to make:
Was he not glad at sodayne calmes
(thinke you) and so to take
His harbor where he might it finde,
or where it was assingde
By mightie Gods aboue, or else
by mother his so kinde?
What fearefull nations did inuade
Achilles woofull wight,
When hushing waues ten in a rowe
did ouerrunne him quight?
Did he not cut the waters salt
the foming seas apace,
When as the cruell nipping winde
was wholly in his face?
Were not companions his sore toylde
vppon the raging flood?
But when that they arriude to Troy,
then they did thinke it good
That they had laborde so in stormes,
for then in wether cleere
They canuas may their bisket harde,
and tipple vp the beere,
Which lay all harde a sennights space,
(as Ouid he dooth tell:)
So may they tayre their bakon blacke,
and feede of it full well,


For Saylers they can feed apace
in weather faire or fogge,
And will not sticke (in hunger theirs)
to eate a barking dogge.
But now eche man they may reioyce
that Lady Ver is nere,
Now may they see with glimmering eyes
once Phœbus to appere:
How Estas he with comely grace
full trimly dooth display,
And howe that Tellus floorisheth
through ayde of lustie May:
In pleasant moneth of this (my frends)
eache man dooth ioy by kinde,
And euery man dooth practise what
were best to please his minde.
As Gaulfrid here (th' Italian Books
do shewe his name to be)
Dooth seeke and search in rotten boate
straunge countries for to see.
And comming to the lande of Grece,
where Turrets hye doo stande,
Where houses shining all of golde
be plast (as well I scande)
By chaunce, as fortune would it haue,
he entered in at one,
Where he found Barnarde le vayne
then sitting all alone:


A kinsman and a frend of his,
whom then he did not know:
The Gods them selues (I thinke forsoth)
they would it should be so.
Gaulfrydo he whose smirking lookes
and liuely chere at last,
Bewrayde the one t'other then
ere foure words they had past.
To see the ioy of louing friends
when they togither met,
Tho Nestors life twice tolde I had
I should them not forget.
The one imbrast, the other kist,
they wepe for ioy in place:
Gaulfrydo could not speake bicause
all smyred was his face,
With driueling drops of lukewarm teares
which trickled downe a pace
His paled face: his freend in deede
as fast did poure agayne
His dryry teares: incontinent
then sayde Barnard le vayne,
The day hath been, O coosin mine,
that freends we haue been both,
As we are now (for ought I know
and that we both were loth
The one the other to displease,
as reason wilde vs so,


Whilst Babes we wer, we went to schoole
together you do knowe,
What did I euer in my life
whereby that I your foe
Should counted be: or that I haue
not been as true to thee
As euer thou or any man
coulde euer be to me?
Let womens teares exiled be,
say to them all adewe.
Gal.
No, no, my freende, of forged teares
I thinke I haue but fewe,
I would to God that thou hadst been
but halfe so true to mee,
As I haue been in euery thing
a royall freend to thee:
Thou wouldest not haue hoysed vp
thy sayles to euery winde,
Not knowing I (poore wretched wight)
in what place thee to finde:
Nor yet thou wouldest once haue left
me in a countrey rude,
Among the rauening sort of woolues
which sought for to detrude
Me (seely wretch) from countrey mine,
whereas my mother bore
And kept me, from my cradle yong,
(hir greefe it was the more,)