The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton For the First Time Collected and Edited: With Memorial-Introduction, Notes and Illustrations, Glossarial Index, Facsimilies, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart. In Two Volumes |
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A FAREWELL
To Fancie. |
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 | The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton |  |
22
A FAREWELL To Fancie.
Fonde Fancie, now farewell,thy Lodging likes me not:
I serued thee long, full like a slaue,
yet little gaines I got.
Yet though I say my selfe,
no slaue that euer seru'de
Of any Mistris in this world,
haue more rewarde deseru'd.
But he that bindes himselfe
apprentise to a Patch,
At seauen yeares ende, will this be sure,
to gain sum foolish catch.
So Nodcoke I, that longe
haue serued thee like a slaue;
For my rewarde, by dew desart,
Repentaunce gainéd haue.
Thou never badst me go,
but I would runne with speede:
If thou didst bid me staie againe,
two biddings should not neede.
When I had better runne,
when thou didst bid me staie,
And better staide then goe on foote,
to breede mine owne decaye.
When thou didst bid me looke,
I readie was to marke,
And would not loose the thing so soone,
no, not in greatest darke.
When better I had beene,
for to have shut mine eye,
Then for to cast mine eye on that,
should worke me woe thereby.
When thou didst bid me like,
I loouéd, by and by:
When thou againe badst me mislike,
I hated contrarie.
What shall I further say,
thou nothing badst me doe,
But I was willing, by and by,
for to agree thereto.
But what, for all my paines
haue I now reapt in fine,
A goodly gaine, Repentaunce sore,
of such great follie mine:
When thou didst bid me go,
my running made me fall:
When thou didst bid me stay againe,
twas for no good at all.
Thou madste me studie ofte,
but what?—fonde trifling toyes:
The Arte of Loue, and of the cause
of louers greefes and ioyes.
Thou madste me think, long while,
that louers greefe was game,
And that no ioye could be compard,
vnto a gallant Dame.
Thou madst me thinke long time,
no pleasure like to that,
With Curtisans, in their kinde,
to doe, I say not what.
Thou madste me halfe amazde,
sometime, with frantick fits,
And, now and then with thoughts of loue
almost out of my wits.
Thou maadst me take delight,
in Lodge of Loue to dwell:
And for to coumpt that thing a heauen,
which rather was a hell.
Thou maadst me thinke that Loue
did purchase heauenly Joy:
Which now I see did purchase paine,
& wrought naught but annoy.
Thou maadst me take delight
to iet in braue attire:
Which now I finde was more, indeede,
than reason did require.
In Fethers flaunt a flaunt,
and tossing in the winde,
Thou maadst me take delight, which now
a folly great I finde.
Thou maadst me take delight
in singularitie,
In Tailors worke to haue a tricke,
that none should haue but I.
23
some fashion to deuise,
Wherewith I sought in wisemens sight,
my selfe for to disguise.
Thou maadst me spend my time,
in vaine and foolish toyes,
And euer didst withdraw my minde,
from seeking perfect ioyes.
Thou maadst me thinke it was
a heauen, For to go gaye,
But neuer badst me looke in time,
how long it would hould way.
In fine, as long as I
was Scholler at thy Schoole:
For all the learning that I got,
I proou'd my selfe a foole.
Thou didst withdraw my minde
from Perfect pietie,
And maadst me cheefely to delight
in worldly vanitie.
But now, since that I see,
that it hath pleaséd God,
To plague me well for my desarts,
with smart of mine owne rod:
And giue me grace to finde,
what greefes by thee doe grow,
And that, although vnto my cost,
thy nature naught I know.
What gaines by thee are got,
what pinching penurie,
What greef of minde, what plague of purse,
what wretched misery:
I now forsake thee quite,
and neuer meane to dwell,
Neere thee, by fifteene thousand mile:
and so, Fancie farewell.
FINIS.
| The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton | |