The Complete Works of George Gascoigne :: :: University of Virginia Library

The lookes of a lover forsaken: written by a gentlewoman who passed by him with hir armes set bragging by hir sides, and lefte it unfinished as followeth.

[Howe long she lookt that lookt at me of late]

An other Sonet written by the same Gentlewoman, uppon the same occasion.

To the same gentlewoman because she challenged the Aucthour for holding downe his head alwaies, and for that hee looked not uppon hir in wonted manner.

The Recantacion of a Lover.

In prayse of Bridges, nowe Lady Sandes.

In prayse of Zouche late the Lady Greye of Wilton whome the auctor found in a homely house.

Gascoignes praise of his mistres.

Gascoignes good morrow.

Gascoygnes good night.

The introduction to the Psalme of De profundis.

Gascoignes De profundis.

Gascoignes Memories, written upon this occasion.

The nexte was at request of Antony Kinwelmarshe, who delivered him this theame, Satis sufficit, and thereupon he wrote as foloweth.

John Vaughan delivered him this theame. Magnum vectigal parcimonia, where uppon he wrote thus.

Alexander Nevile delivered him this theame, Sat cito, si sat bene, whereupon hee compiled these seven Sonets in seq[u]ence, therin bewraying his owne Nimis cito: and therwith his Vix bene, as foloweth.

Richarde Courtop (the last of the five) gave him this theame, Durum æneum & miserabile ævum, and thereupon hee wrote in this wise.

And thus an ende of these five Theames, admounting to the number of .CCLVIII. verses, devised ryding by the way, writing none of them untill he came at the ende of his Journey, the which was no longer than one day in ryding, one daye in tarying with his friend, and the thirde in returning to Greyes Inne: and therefore called Gascoignes memories.

An Epitaph upon Captaine Bourcher late slaine in the warres in Zelande, the which hath bene termed the tale of a stone as foloweth.

A devise of a Maske for the right honorable Viscount Mountacute

The refusal of a lover, writen to a gentlewoman who had refused him and chosen a husband (as he thought) much inferior to himselfe, both in knowledge, birth, and parsonage, wherin he bewraieth both their names in clowdes, and how she was won from him with swete gloves, and broken ringes.

Pride in Court written by a Gentlewoman in Court, who (when shee was there placed) seemed to disdaine him, contrarie to a former profession.

This question being propounded by a Dame unto the Aucthour, to witte, why he should write Spreta tamen vivunt, he aunswereth thus.

In trust is Treason, written by a Lover, leaning onelye to his Ladies promises, and finding them to fayle.

The constancie of a lover hath thus sometimes bene briefly declared.

The fruite of foes written to a Gentlewoman, who blamed him for writing his friendly advise in verse unto another lover of hyrs.

A Lover often warned, and once againe droven into fantasticall flames by the chase of company, doth thus bewayle his misfortunes.

The lover encouraged by former examples, determineth to make vertue of necessitie.

The delectable history of sundry adventures passed by Dan Bartholmew of Bathe.

The fruites of Warre,

HEARBES.

WEEDES.

II.

[VOLUME II]

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The lookes of a lover forsaken: written by a gentlewoman who passed by him with hir armes set bragging by hir sides, and lefte it unfinished as followeth.

Were my hart set on hoygh as thine is bent,
Or in my brest so brave and stout a will:
Then (long ere this) I coulde have bene content,
With sharpe reveng thy carelesse corpes to kill.
For why thou knowest (although thou know not all)
What rule, what raygne, what power, what segnory,
Thy melting minde did yeeld to me (as thrall)
When first I pleasd thy wandring fantisie.
What lingring lookes bewray'd thyne inward thought,
What panges were publisht by perplexcitie,
Such reakes the rage of love in thee had wrought
And no gramercie for thy curtesie.
I list not vaunt, but yet I dare avowe
(Had bene my harmelesse hart as harde as thine)
I coulde have bounde thee then for starting nowe,
In bondes of bale, in pangs of deadly pyne.
For why by profe the field is eath to win,
Where as the chiefteynes yeeld them selves in chaynes:
The port or passage plaine to enter in,
Where porters list to leave the key for gaynes.
But did I then devise with crueltie,
(As tyrants do) to kill the yeelding pray?
Or did I bragge and boast triumphauntly,
As who should saye the field were mine that daye?

Did I retire my selfe out of thy sight
To beat afresh the bulwarkes of thy brest?
Or did my mind in choyce of change delight,
And render thee as reffuse with the rest?
No Tygre no, the lyon is not lewd,
He shewes no force on seely wounded sheepe, &c.