Euphues Shadow, The Battaile of the Sences Wherein youthfull folly is set downe in his right figure, and vaine fancies are prooued to produce many offences. Hereunto is annexed the Deafe mans Dialogue, contayning Philamis Athanatos: fit for all sortes to peruse, and the better sorte to practise. By T. L. [i.e. Thomas Lodge] |
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 | Euphues Shadow, The Battaile of the Sences |  |
To the right Honourable, Robert Ratcliffe, Viscount Fitzwaters,
Robert Greene; wisheth increase of honour and vertue.
Anthenors Item, to all young Gentlemen.
The retchlesse race of youths inconstant course,
(Which weeping age with sorowing teares behoulds)
Their wretched will (their wofull sorrows source)
Their wanton wits, their errors manifoldes
Hath reard my muse, whose springs wan care had dried,
To name them flie the dangers I haue tried.
(Which weeping age with sorowing teares behoulds)
Their wretched will (their wofull sorrows source)
Their wanton wits, their errors manifoldes
Hath reard my muse, whose springs wan care had dried,
To name them flie the dangers I haue tried.
From Cradles rock, when childish I had crept,
And May-like young, of pleasure gan to taste,
Seeing my fatall course my reason wepte,
Toyes were my triumphes, will my woorth did waste,
And in the seas of pleasure whilst I sayld,
Small were my fruits, and yet my youth was quailde.
And May-like young, of pleasure gan to taste,
Seeing my fatall course my reason wepte,
Toyes were my triumphes, will my woorth did waste,
And in the seas of pleasure whilst I sayld,
Small were my fruits, and yet my youth was quailde.
And now gan manlike vigor fill myne arme,
My hart was warmde with courage fit for loue:
Like wanton bird exempt from fowlers charme,
I soard aloft but looking from aboue.
I saw on earth a Fowler heauenly faire,
That made hir nets the trammels of hir haire.
My hart was warmde with courage fit for loue:
Like wanton bird exempt from fowlers charme,
I soard aloft but looking from aboue.
I saw on earth a Fowler heauenly faire,
That made hir nets the trammels of hir haire.
Then loe my pompuous plumes were layd a part,
Hir eyes were loadestars in this worldlie way,
My thoughts hir thraule, hir prisoner was my heart,
But for my paines, what payment but delay.
A lingring life I liude to sorrow soulde,
A foe to wit through follies waxing oulde.
Hir eyes were loadestars in this worldlie way,
My thoughts hir thraule, hir prisoner was my heart,
But for my paines, what payment but delay.
A lingring life I liude to sorrow soulde,
A foe to wit through follies waxing oulde.
When chillie age had seasure of this earth,
I felt a wound of sorrow in my brest,
I saw how iudgement quite was spoild by dearth.
How vertues seedes by errors was supprest.
I cast the count, and see what I haue gotten:
Time lost, wits wast, and limmes with surfets rotten.
I saw how iudgement quite was spoild by dearth.
How vertues seedes by errors was supprest.
I cast the count, and see what I haue gotten:
Time lost, wits wast, and limmes with surfets rotten.
Now see I well that trauell is mispent,
Except in vertue it be well imployed,
What I in loue had I in learning spent,
Oh what a ioy had wearie age enioyed?
Had I foreseene the wastfull course of time,
I then had made my haruest in my prime.
Except in vertue it be well imployed,
What I in loue had I in learning spent,
Oh what a ioy had wearie age enioyed?
Had I foreseene the wastfull course of time,
I then had made my haruest in my prime.
But now when feeble footsteps are allied,
Vnto the graue this sinfull bodies hould:
I cannot practise though I haue espyed.
The way of worth, the grace exceeding gould.
What only rests sweete young men that shall follow,
I know the sourse and now will teach the shallow.
Vnto the graue this sinfull bodies hould:
I cannot practise though I haue espyed.
The way of worth, the grace exceeding gould.
What only rests sweete young men that shall follow,
I know the sourse and now will teach the shallow.
Preuent the time the dayes are full of danger,
Whilst youthfull vigor yeelds you furtherance,
Make reason guide, let follie be a straunger,
Vertue is perfected by art and vsance.
Enritch your mindes with skill, for why they must,
Remaine eterne when boddie is but dust.
Whilst youthfull vigor yeelds you furtherance,
Make reason guide, let follie be a straunger,
Vertue is perfected by art and vsance.
Enritch your mindes with skill, for why they must,
Remaine eterne when boddie is but dust.
Let not your eyes infeebled be by sinne,
Cut short presumption for it will aspire:
Who takes aduice, amendment dooth begin,
Subdue your wils, and maister your desire.
A modest coate, chast thoughts, and studious artes,
Adorne the boddie, minde, and inward partes.
Cut short presumption for it will aspire:
Who takes aduice, amendment dooth begin,
Subdue your wils, and maister your desire.
A modest coate, chast thoughts, and studious artes,
Adorne the boddie, minde, and inward partes.
These lines are lines like Ariadnes clewe,
To leade thee through the Laborinth of greefe:
Who so thou be that vertue wilt ensew,
More sweete in sooth then show in true releefe,
Good Countrimen still proue what I haue tould,
Least you repent with me when you are ould.
To leade thee through the Laborinth of greefe:
Who so thou be that vertue wilt ensew,
Good Countrimen still proue what I haue tould,
Least you repent with me when you are ould.
Philamis Barginet.
Happie
Phœbus in thy flower,
On thy teares so sweetly feeding:
VVhen she spyeth thy heart bleeding,
Sorrow dooth hir heart deuoure.
Oh that I might Phœbus bee,
So my Clitia loued me.
On thy teares so sweetly feeding:
VVhen she spyeth thy heart bleeding,
Sorrow dooth hir heart deuoure.
Oh that I might Phœbus bee,
So my Clitia loued me.
When with glorie thou doost rise,
Foorth his faire to showe she putteth:
When in west thy glorie shutteth,
Clitia shuts, hir beautie dies.
VVere my mistresse such as she,
Oh that I might Phœbus be.
Foorth his faire to showe she putteth:
When in west thy glorie shutteth,
Clitia shuts, hir beautie dies.
VVere my mistresse such as she,
Oh that I might Phœbus be.
Phœbus beautie did allure
His faire flower at first to loue him:
And till time from heauen remooue him,
Clitias glorie shall endure.
Oh that I might Phœbus bee,
So my Clitia loued me.
His faire flower at first to loue him:
And till time from heauen remooue him,
Clitias glorie shall endure.
Oh that I might Phœbus bee,
So my Clitia loued me.
Thou that houldest in thy hande,
Natures glorie, Phœbus treasure:
Now obserue the selfe same measure,
For I burne in selfe same bande.
VVere my mistres such as she,
Oh that I might Phœbus be.
Natures glorie, Phœbus treasure:
Now obserue the selfe same measure,
For I burne in selfe same bande.
VVere my mistres such as she,
Oh that I might Phœbus be.
Philamours Madrigale.
Vngratefull Greekes when on the sandie shore,
Wrongd by contempt, strong Aiax stoutly stood,
He sighth, and therewithall
Since good deserts were wrongd, in irefull moode
He drew his sworde, and straight his brest did gore,
and fainting downe did fall.
Wrongd by contempt, strong Aiax stoutly stood,
He sighth, and therewithall
Since good deserts were wrongd, in irefull moode
He drew his sworde, and straight his brest did gore,
and fainting downe did fall.
Ye gods he cryed (if any gods) he cryed,
Since countrie yeelds to words, not good desart,
Be you propitious now,
These luke-warme streames that issue from my hart,
Since Greekes my right with rigor haue entied.
Beare witnesse of my vow.
Since countrie yeelds to words, not good desart,
Be you propitious now,
These luke-warme streames that issue from my hart,
Since Greekes my right with rigor haue entied.
Beare witnesse of my vow.
I vowe (oh fruitles vow) that I haue serud,
For countries cause, and not for seruile gaine,
And yet Laertes sonne
Must haught Achilles mangled armes maintaine,
Who neuer once in combate hath deserud
As I full oft haue donne.
For countries cause, and not for seruile gaine,
And yet Laertes sonne
Must haught Achilles mangled armes maintaine,
Who neuer once in combate hath deserud
As I full oft haue donne.
Since therefore Vertue hath no recompence
Among my Grecian peeres, oh gentle mould
Receiue my sacrifice:
The heauens can tell for Greece my bloud was sould,
The heauens can tell I die for no offence,
Thus closd his eyes.
Among my Grecian peeres, oh gentle mould
Receiue my sacrifice:
The heauens can tell for Greece my bloud was sould,
The heauens can tell I die for no offence,
Thus closd his eyes.
And when the Ghost was ready to depart,
These later words with teares he forth did power,
Both gods and earth relieue me:
His bloud the earth transformd into a flower,
The heauens were mooued at the warriors smart,
Sweet Nimph beleeue me.
These later words with teares he forth did power,
Both gods and earth relieue me:
His bloud the earth transformd into a flower,
The heauens were mooued at the warriors smart,
Sweet Nimph beleeue me.
Long with Vlisses (but with greater right)
For more then Pirrhus Fathers armes I striue,
But since repulsed still,
I liuing dye, nought resteth now aliue,
But ioy, but hope, thus stil with feeble might,
I feed vpon myne ill.
For more then Pirrhus Fathers armes I striue,
But since repulsed still,
I liuing dye, nought resteth now aliue,
But ioy, but hope, thus stil with feeble might,
I feed vpon myne ill.
The heauens behould how I am firme and true,
The earth my teares to flowers hath transformd,
my wound stil bleeding flowes,
Without some grace my greefe is not reformd,
Oh were my griefes, wounds, flowers, so fresh in vew,
You then would end my woes.
The earth my teares to flowers hath transformd,
my wound stil bleeding flowes,
Without some grace my greefe is not reformd,
Oh were my griefes, wounds, flowers, so fresh in vew,
You then would end my woes.
The Epitaph of Eurimone.
Heere lies ingraude in prime of tender age,
Eurimone, too pearlesse in disdaine:
Whose proud contempt no reason might asswage,
till loue to quite all wronged louers paine,
Bereft her wits when as her friend was gone,
Who now lyes tombed in this marble stone.
Eurimone, too pearlesse in disdaine:
Whose proud contempt no reason might asswage,
till loue to quite all wronged louers paine,
Bereft her wits when as her friend was gone,
Who now lyes tombed in this marble stone.
Let Ladies learne her lewdnes to eschew,
and whilst they lyue in freedome of delight:
To take remorse, and louers sorrowes rew,
For why contempt is answered with dispight,
Remembring still this sentence sage and ould:
Who will not yonge, they may not when they would.
and whilst they lyue in freedome of delight:
For why contempt is answered with dispight,
Remembring still this sentence sage and ould:
Who will not yonge, they may not when they would.
| Euphues Shadow, The Battaile of the Sences | |