University of Virginia Library

Epigrams and Sonets.

Of the most famous, renowmed, and thrice happie Realme of England.

[Oh fertile soyle, thou little lande]

Oh fertile soyle, thou little lande,
that Anglia hath to name,
Unto whose bankes and lymits set
Brutus of perfect fame
With forced shield gan turne his arme
vnto thee now I say,
These words to thee in whom the waues
of hony sweete doe stay.
In whom the floods of milke doe runne,
and Nectar fine doth flowe,
Like land our Lord to his elect,
did promyse long agoe.
If euer thou hadst cause to laugh,
or ioyfull to be seene,
Then clap thy hands, and thanke the God
that gaue thee such a Queene.
Whose vertues doe ascend and mount
vnto the very skyes,
And there doe moue the mighty Ioue,
to turne to thee hys eyes.
With louely hand to poure on thee,
the seedes of this his grace
And plentie causeth of all things
to abound in euery place.
Within thy compasse cut thou canst
not truely witnes this,
Before her dayes that like in thee
there was such cause of blisse.
Nor aye there is none other cause
by wit which thou canst finde
That mooued God to throw on thee
such plenty thus assignde.
But her, before her dayes, in bookes
full playne its to beseene
What war, what strife, and slaughter great
in thee at once hath beene.
What scarcitie with thee there was,
what penury each thing,
For want of grayne, the lack of foode
dyd to thy bowels bring.
The moued Gods by some thy fault,
what euer sinne it were,
Did thee inforce the horror huge,
and wrack of warre to beare.
By reason when the people faynt,
and tyred could not toyle,
To tyll this land, wherby almost
it was vnfertile soyle.
But now sith none there is in sight,
oh thanke thy God therefore,
And wish her life that is the cause
of this thy perfect store.
Who here in presence prayeth plain,
vnto the Lord aboue,
At whose request, and whose behalfe,
he poures on thee such loue,
Yet thinke not (litle Realme) that it
is for thine owne assent,
Thy sinne is sore, it is for her,
or els thou mightst be shent.
Her vertues shine as bright as stars
as cleere as Phebus cheefe,
The port of hir doth stayne the moon
a Phenix by her life.
For chastity Lucretia
ne could that Romish dame
Aspire to her, though while she liued
she had the only fame.
Let prudent Pallas pause a space
and then for to eschue
Let Clio muse to paint the gifts,
which Ioue doth her endue:
Who worthy is to rule and raigne
besides her kingdomes three
Ouer the globe which we account,
all Chaos for to be.
What shuld I say, what shal I write
but laud the royall race
Of her who by her passing port
stayres Iunoes very face.
Elizabeth whose name compact,
doth stand of letters nine,
The effect thereof and meaning true
in fewe words to define.
She loues the Muses nine, she loues
their wisdome passinglie:
She loues the sugred skil, she loues
their lawes assuredly.
Let ech true subiect on his knee
with thankful heart stil pray
For to preserue this noble Queene,
in vertues lore alway.
The queene of England, realme also
of France and Ireland
Whom God protect from all annoy
by his most mighty hand.
And graunt her subiects her to serue
in heart with one accord:
While she doth raigne here ouer vs,
as long as please the Lord.
And when that Atropos shal cut
and shred her webbe in twaine,
In skyes with him to ioy a place,
for euer to remayne.

[When Phebus in the azure Skye]

When Phebus in the azure Skye
Gan mount with horses tracyng hye,
Then was my mynd bent to endite,
Some pretty toy with pen to write.
Of quyls I had in place good store,
With inke and paper meete therfore
But arguments I wanted aye
That might conduct me on the way
At length when zelous study had
Pretence to write of good or bad,
As aye my mind dyd geue me skill,
It selfe reprooued mine owne wil.
I wil of kings goe tel the raigne,
How they in throne doe hie remayne.
That doth surpasse my base estate
Some other thing Ile imitate
Ile write of priestes, but with those
It is mad medling in a glose.
Of good men I wil somewhat shewe,
But fewe such on earth I know
Then wil I wryte of such therfore,
As doe geue almes vnto the poore.
It is rare vsed in each place,
Ergo I wil omyt that case.
Of fasting something Ile declare
But let that goe it is so rare.
Ile write of rich mens huge desire,
The more they haue, more they require.
But shal I talke of a blast of wynde?
Then women Ile not leaue behinde.
Of naughty packs Ile paynt the showe,
That argument would ouerflowe.
Of whordome then shal I deuise
A volume large that would comprise.
I wyll then flatter euery man,
But many men that science can.
Then wyl I lye, Ile cog and face,
Nay that is vsed in euery place.
Shall I tel trueth, it is too rawe,
A blacke Swanne I neuer sawe.
Oh Ioue what world is this to see?
Amendment no way found may be.

Omnium rerum vicissitudo.

The louer being demaunded wherefore he went alwaies in black attire,

in cōmen datiō of the same, made answere to his Lady on this wise,

Sith that each man with brauery,
in colours doth him dight,
Such as, may please his mistresse eye,
and answere her delight,
Some choose the greene, the white some weare,
some tawney light or sad:
And some in yealow garnisht are,
in purple some be clad.
Some orient red, some watchet dye
some one, some diuers take,
And weare the same most curiouslie
for their fayre mistresse sake.
And wheras I doe serue and sue
and seeke to haue the grace
Of her that with her liuely hue
staynes all that comes in place.
To know a reason you request
what thing I should desire
That only I aboue the rest
in blacke my selfe attire.
The black and browne doe seldome change,
they fixe their louely grace,
When other colours light and strange,
doe vade within short space.
The yealow soone it waxeth pale,
the russet keepes small stay:
The tawny eke wil soone be stale,
the purple wil decay.
The white wil soyle, the greene wil stayne
so wil the louing blew:
The red wil change with litle payne,
and take another hewe.
And so the grace is shortly gone,
their beuty soone decayes,
But black is black, and alwayes one,
and serues at all assayes.
And so the heart that you doth serue
what fortune so betide,
From trueth profest wil neuer swerue
but constant still abyde,
Beside all this these colours light,
doth nothing els declare,
But what their fancy and delight
doth will, the same they weare.
As virgin white and wel beseene,
the hopeful russet hewe,
The pleasant yelow, youthfull greene,
and eke the faithful blewe.
Thangry red, the men forsake
in tawney chuse their weede.
And thus in colors they them shape
as folly doth them leade.
Of colors as is their attire,
so fleeting is their minde
They loue, they leaue, despise, desire,
so fickle as the winde
But sober black presents a mind,
whom folly makes not fayne,
Dame prudēce there may fauor find
and lodge with all her trayne.
And as vnchanging is the hewe
and eke vnmedled die,
So constant is the heart and true
that vnder it doeth lie.
And thus for this I weare the blacke
you may right wel beleeue
And not for that I mourn, or lack
but that which you may geeue.
Oh were the happy houre at hand,
come were that ioyfull day
When you my faith wil vnderstand,
and trueth vprightly way.
And so release my paynfull sute,
to lie possest in place,
To reape the long desired fruite,
and ioy the wished grace
With colours then let them depart,
whose fancy flits alwayes
While I in black with stedfast heart
doe serue you all my dayes.

The louer hauing daunced with his Lady, in the end thereof speaketh these words.

Madam , sith that you doe vouchsafe
to daunce about with me
I render harty thanks, and though,
vnworthy now I be,
To kisse your tender palme with mouth
yet doe I naythelesse,
Remaine your seruant stil in heart,
and place of thrall possesse.

The answere to the same.

Good sir, whereas you say that you
vnworthy are with me
To daunce, your pleasure and
your tongue doe both agree.
You may say what you list, but this
I knowe to be most true,
No dame there is within this place,
condigne to match with you.
Much lesse am I that meanest am
inferior to them all,
A worthy dame t'aspire to you
to daunce within this hal:
Stoupe not so lowe to kisse my hand
for if that you doe please,
I am your owne what so betide
your thraldome to release.
And thinke that you haue gotten out
and in this presence found
A seruant true, as like that which
dame fame did once resound
Unto Penelope the faire
which was Vlisses wife.
What would you more, I am your owne,
in heart whilest I haue life.

Omne mundum positum est in malignitatem.

Complayning I ne can refraine
with measure iust my tongue,
But he vnlose with mingled tunes,
must make a dolefull song.
And say as Tullie said, when he
the Romans did accuse,
O maners, o time, because that they
all goodnes did refuse.
There was not sith the world was
a worser time than this
In which the Lady Virtus doeth
of presents alway misse.
The assembly huge of Reprobates
doth more and more encrease.
And treadeth downe the simple soules,
by their most heauy prease.
Which when my mind did know, foorthwith
by feare I dyd refrayne,
This tale not meete yet for such as
doe virgins pure remayne.

The restlesse estate of a Louer,

written to a frēd of his, whrein he craueth to haue some good councel to ease his greefe.

My frend, the care that I sustayne
and life I leade at all,
I send in paper here, as by
these lines perceiue you shall.
The sluggish bed and drowsie place
I always doe detest
Sith I therin with weary limmes
enioy no quyet rest.
Before that Phebus shewe his beams
in morning I arise
On field to fare then forth I passe,
as is my common guise.
Where of the lusty flowers greene,
and yealow fresh of hewe,
As by and ouer them I passe,
I take the perfect vewe.
Which colours two (though vading aye)
I like and euer shall,
For in the field while they remayne
they passen colours all.
Directly then vnto some hil,
or mountaine fast me by,
In beaten path I take my course,
and way as it doth lie.
Where long I scale with feeble legs
my selfe vp for to get.
By reason though of troubled heart
I puffe and sometime swet.
Yet stint I neuer till that I
on highest place may stand
And top therof, me round about,
for to behold the land
The sweling sea with surging waues
also such foules as flie
And euery thing that of the land,
or ayer comes me by.
The greene forrest which vnto me
doth seeme most fayre of all,
And euery fearefull beast thereof
to you which I name shal.
The mighty hart, his make the hind
the buck and eke the doe.
On side of hil there resteth, and
the swift amazed Roe.
The nimble long ear'd hare that swift
before the hound gan run,
The litle cracknut squirel erst
on tree, that pretie bun:
And furthermore I see by me,
the wilie subtile foxe.
The balstone or the grey doth chase
and beate from clime rocks.
Oh but at length I doe perceiue,
as wished with the rest,
A pallace pure of pleasure, and
the place that likes me best.
And as in ioy (by sight therof)
in dumpe there stil I stay
At length vnto my selfe these words,
with warbling tongue I say.
Within thy walles and chambers fayre
a perfect place of blisse,
My dearest frend, the wight that hath
my heart, enclosed is.
Where oft I wish my wretched corps
in couert for to be,
So that no wight my sodayne shape
or presence knew but she.
Transformed from my proper hew,
and changed in such wise,
As for our sureties both she could
her selfe then best deuise.
A pretie little hound on her
with faithful heart to fowne,
I stand content so that my minde,
were present to her knowen.
A chirping mouse in hole to creepe,
in caue or hollow wall:
When that in bed she thinks to rest,
my louing noyce were small,
A linnet in a wretched cage,
before her for to sing
With shrillish notes I would ne stay
nor stent of warbuling.
A Phillip Sparow on her fist
or elswhere to be fed,
At her owne hands twice euery day
with chosen crums of bread.
A little Robin that doeth hop
about with reddish brest:
Or els if Ioue would me conuert,
a blacke flea in her nest.
In faith with force ne could I finde
or thinke once in my heart,
The prety naked soule from out
her sleepe once for to start.
But that mine eyes at leysure might
her seemely corps behold:
Of God that rules the rounded ball,
none other thing I would.
Thus when my weary playnt
and wishes all haue sayn:
I hie me home, because the night,
approched to my paine.
Where I consume the day, vntil
I see the mantled night:
Which come on bed, for shew of rest.
I spend vntil the light,
And then my course to mountain hie
againe I doe renew
Of euery thing as yesterday,
to take the perfect vewe
Loe here my frend I send to you
the patterne of my payne,
I craue nothing but of your hands
an answere sage againe.
And as in pleasure you haue beene
to me a faithfull frend,
So likewise in distresse and greefe
to shew your selfe so kinde.
Some good aduice let me receiue
of that thy gratefull hand,
Wherby I may direct my path
as surest for to stand.
The while I wil attempt with lines
and letters for to moue,
The frozen heart of that good saint
me to requite with loue.
If tokens may ne boote, or that
none other thing preuaile,
Then wil I goe and yeelde my selfe
what so ere doth me assaile,
And present plead for grace, but now
for once let this suffice.
My Muse and I with slender quill,
to endite wil now deuise.

The Louer writeth to a Gentlewoman,

by treatie to cause her to loue him, if he may possible.

Here the Ladie writeth an aunswere to the letter of hir Louer, perseuering in hir stubburnesse:

nothing ruing his faithfull heart.

The letter of a friend of a wounded Louer,

wherein hee goeth about to disswade him from this louelie follie.

My frend your parched letters are
late hapned to my hand
And them with eye I haue perusde,
and euery sentence scande.
Wherby I doe perceiue that you
doe languish still in paine,
And now according to request,
I write to you againe.
That I with dreary plaint accuse
and wayle the haples hap
Wherin blind Cupid Venus sonne
did lately you entrap.
But yet small remedie I find,
if she so froward be
As in your letters you report,
and shewe the same to me.
But that ye doe refraine from loue
me thinketh that the wight
That lerning hath might wel preuēt
and stop such peeuish spight.
Loue is not of such force & strength,
as farre as I can showe,
But if it be by learning you
better then I doe know.
Then fixe your mind some elswhere aye,
where you may reape the fruite
For which you haue so toyled long
by painfull suite.
But if you cannot soone withdraw,
from her your yelded hart
And thereby to exile your selfe,
from this your snared smart.
Then wander hence away into
some Countrey farther off,
If you can aye forbeare a while
this soyle to dwell aloofe,
And there with troupe of chiualrie
to exercise your selfe
In feates of armes, thereby to shun,
of loytring loue the elfe.
Such facts wil cleane exile, & driue
from out your mazed minde
These pranks, insomuch yt they shal
no place hereafter finde.
The Adage old doth shew vs plaine,
and as I haue heard say,
Long out of sight, clean out of mind,
and I beleeue it aye.
Then if that you attempt some way,
and worke some wittie wile,
By fauor of your frends to fare
a litle in exile,
And cut the calmed seas, the land
to treade at th' other side
You soon then wold leue of your loue
which now in hart you hide.
And if your heart doth not assent,
in forrain fields to trace,
Thē in some town within this realm
you must finde out some place,
For you that haue the store of welth,
may leade your life as best
To court it out with other braue,
and royst among the rest.
In Court great knowledge is,
to which you may aspire,
If that you list with zelous paine
to applie your whole desire,
And in the Court also you shall
perceiue some condigne dame,
That may extinguish clean the print
and sparke of the other flame.
In time to come perhaps also,
I say you shall reioyce,
And laugh to see this link, the which
you left haue by my voyce.
Perchāce ye gods haue you preseru'd
vntil some better end,
Then may you ioy by right with me
that standeth for your frend.
But if you mind not aye to passe,
into some other land:
Nether to serue in princely Court,
in Courtly roome to stand.
Then fixe your earnest minde
to aspire to knowledge hie
By studie of the common lawes,
a Councelor to supplie.
And leaue such fondly toyes
wherin you now doe frame
And trace your steps, ye more to tred
your present woe and paine.
And giue the common law the fame,
when each trade doth decay,
The prouerb old as you know wel
doth likewisy to vs say:
No fishing to the sea there is,
nor seruice to a king.
No such game as the trade of lawe
doeth to our coffers bring,
The trade of Lawe doth fill to brinke
from bottome boysterous bags
They royst in silke, when other range
the streete in rented rags.
Now iudge your selfe which of the twaine
doeth giue shewe best to be.
With one of them I would that you
in heart could aye agree.
If that you like not aye the change
of dames within the court:
For Countrey prilles your youthfull life
with them to lead in sport.
Or if you more esteeme the sight
of her that wayes not you:
More then the gilt that Law doth get
by learning to ensue.
I know not what thing I shall say,
but wayle the froward fate,
Which vnto you the Gods haue graunt,
to purchase peeuish hate.
Thus now adue my frend, marke well
these lines which I doe send,
And sometime let me heare from you,
how that you doe entend.

The Louer writeth once more to his friend,

as doeth followe after.

The paines that you haue taken sir,
an answere to indite,
Unto my letter that I sent
with thankes I here requite.
Not able any other way by gifts
to recompence the same.
But with my pen a few lines
in paper here to frame.
Whereas you say I should refraine,
and keepe my selfe from loue,
That were too hard, sith loue it selfe
hath forst the Gods aboue.
What moued Iupiter to turne
himselfe to take the shape
And forme of Bull, but only loue,
for dame Europas rape?
And for because (my frend) you say
loue is not of great strength,
As farre as knowledge geueth you,
it shall appeare at length
Did not loues law enforce that Ioue
to turne in Eagle strange,
When that Asterion he could
accept into his grange,
He tooke on him the forme of swanne,
as Leda when he had,
Under his feathred wings and brest,
in safetie for to shade.
A Satyre strange, he forst him selfe,
that Iupiter by name
Saturnus sonne, to the intent
he might Necteis clame,
In forme of golden showre when that
to Danae he could clyme
In towre strong, for pleasure then
with hir to ioy a time.
Thus lose did he his former face,
as loue did oft compell,
Besides him other gods also,
which all I can not tell.
But if that Poets tales seeme true,
then did Neptunus turne,
And had the face of other beasts,
a Ramme sometime to forme,
Sometime a lustie horse to be,
sometime a fish to play,
As of a Dolphin take the hue
as loue did beare the sway.
And did not earst Apollo take
the shape of Rauen blacke
Sometime a shepheard in the fielde
to bring his lust to sacke?
No god was free, sith all the shape
of chaunged formes gan take,
Of beastes or birdes, and oftentimes
of foule of fish of lake.
Then say not that loue hath no force,
the prouerbe thus doeth say,
Amor vincit mundum, and then
nothing so strong doth stay.
And where as you do giue aduice
me to withdrawe my minde,
And fixe my heart some elsewhere, that
I may some fauour finde.
Alas can I withdrawe my thought,
or els auert my heart
From hir whose picture still I fynde
within my brest impart:
No no, or else and shall I graunt
to wander in exile,
And drudge about as one vnknowne,
thus desolate the while:
I can not aye endure that trade,
and where agayne you say,
I should me trie in feats of armes,
and so driue loue away,
For once from sight cleane out of mynde,
prouerbially you speake,
That is most true of such as would
there vowed promise breake,
My heart, aye giues me power inough
in foraine lands to wende,
And ouer surging seas to glyde
t'arriue at the other ende.
Yea if I had a thousand liues,
I would them venter all
For hir, if that at my returne
reward for payne might fall.
Or where to serue in princely court
your hest doth me aduise,
He that aduentures such affaires
had neede be verie wise
In court though that great dignitie
be to be gotten aye,
I haue no minde to such attempts
for things that I shall say.
In court at times to dice and carde,
a man must venture oft,
His winnings one time will be small,
his losings come aloft,
A man must not denie to play
an hundred pound or twaine,
If that he mynde to beare a name,
though nothing else he gaine:
And other exercises store,
which when a man doth meete
With such as stand more than his match
his winning goes to fleete.
The Court a fit place is in deede
for such as know no ende
Of wealth, and such as heape vp more
than they may yerely spende.
Such lustie laddes neede take no dread
how that they lose or win,
Their tenants toyle, they know not how
their worldly wealth comes in.
And some by parents wise haue nowe
such order in their land
And Bounds well set, that they ne neede
about it fyle their hand.
And where you thinke in court there is
such store of damsels fayre,
Though they were like the Muses nine,
that stere aboue the ayre:
Yet if that Enthinimias
in court did aye remaine
More beautie she should showe by sight,
than any other twayne
Though that she be a countrey prill,
no weight thereof doth stand,
Thinke you that some those Courtly dames
are not of countrey land?
Yea though that they haue changed place,
and eke their wonted guise,
Yet countrey Ladie they are still,
as farre as I deuise.
If that you knowe the contrary,
suppose that if this dame,
(Though stubborne she) were set in court,
should she not beare the name
To be a Courtier eke most fit?
small is the difference
Nowe put off you, if that ye lift
to giue intelligence.
And also of your other choyce,
I like much as the rest,
The studie of the common lawes
I ne account as best:
To bend my mynde vnto that side,
I thinke it follie playne,
The way is long and tedious,
so much more is his paine
That trieth it, and if such store
of gold be got thereby,
I wish some frend that hath no welth
his minde thereto apply:
But as for me, I thanke the Gods
that blessed me such wise,
I greatly ne (as Prouerbes say)
do neede to rub mine eyes.
And this I know for certaintie,
that he which linkes in loue,
To earnest studie any tome
his minde can neuer moue.
None of your choices three I like
but pensiue do remaine.
My sorow groweth more and more
I feele the worser paine.
And where you raise request to kno
how that I do entend
The copy of my letter aye,
and hers before I send.
Therby you may perceiue and see
how small she doth esteeme,
The cankred care wherby I crie,
and stand at very brimme,
Of Stigian lake, yet do I mind,
ere many daies be past,
T'assay againe, for many men
say Loue comes not in hast.
Yet will I pause a while,
and think on evrie poynt,
At length when I perceiue my time
Ile venter out a ioynt.
And then renue my painful sute,
which now doth stand begun
It wil be long ere that I ende
the feeble fooles are wun,
With litle care as I haue learnd
thus fare you wel from T.
Where oft to giue me councel good
I wish you for to be.

The lamentation of a louer beeing refused, shewing no hellish torments to be lyke his,

wherwith he accuseth his Ladies crueltie, & yet at lēgth praieth to haue releefe.

Come on thou hart yt long hast slept in woe,
Reuiue thy selfe thy haples hap to shew,
Yee sences all closde vp with couert care,
Unlose your selues my sorowes to declare:
Thou tongue that tyed art by string of paine
Be prest to shew the woe where I remaine,
Thou hand yt long hast staid stretch out at last,
To shew the present greefe and sorowes past,
Of him that dying liues and wisheth death,
Thogh dead in hart yet alway draweth breath
A thousand times for woe who stil doeth crie,
And wisheth death each day and cannot die.
Though Ixion nayled on the whirling wheele,
Which hellish stubs & irksom pains doth feele,
Though Tantalus amyd the lake therein
Pursues ye waues which wet & wash his chin,
And when to him deceiude it promise makes
Thē fleets ye flood, his dryth and thirst ne slakes
Thogh yt the tree with aureal fruit doth stand
By him, and when he reacheth out his hand
Thē flies ye stock on which the fruit doth grow
So bides he paine, and feeles excessiue woe.
Though Titus heart did lie a perfect pray
To flying foules, this payne he bides alway,
Though Danaus daughters fyll in vayne
The watry vessels, and in toyle remayne,
Yet none of these for greefe may ay compare
With me, for Clio may not yet declare
Ne paynt eche parched paine, wherby I pyne,
Though she had all the helpe of Muses nyne,
Or else expresse with slender quill in hand,
That eche wight might it fully vnderstand.
Such dangrous dread doth double in my brest
For hir, who reweth not this my vnrest:
Ah frosen heart, ah wight of marble moulde,
Ah fem as fierce as Tygre to beholde,
Oh wolfe of visage fell, who wouldest deuoure
Ech simple lamb, that ioyes but slender powre,
Thee to the noble Lyon to compare,
Were folly plaine, sith he this vertue rare
Enioyes, who neuer doth delight, with force
To teare the sely beast ye yeldeth to his might,
But then as victor to returne away,
And somewhere else to seeke a condigne pray.
But thou whose mouth delighteth stil to feade,
Art not content my corps on ground to tread,
But ay to rent and teare my giltlesse hart
In peeces small by this my woe and smart.
If that thy pleasure be to feede on me,
So say, ile pull my heart to giue it thee,
Thereby for to asswage thy hot desire,
Thereby of life to extinguish out the fire.
What wouldst thou more to do thy bodie good?
I would on dagger fall to spill my blood,
Or else with lancing kniues to cut my flesh,
To make thereof for thee a daintie dish.
Then grant and yeeld to this my one request,
I wish no more to breed my quiet rest.
When Cupid shot at me first with his dart,
And by the blow did peerce my tender hart,
I knew no salue to cure my sore againe,
But thereby did remaine pensiue for paine,
Till Amor now by sleight the meane did find,
To rid the same if thou ne grow vnkind.
Rue then thou frozen hart and stomacke dire,
With friendlie woords grant now yt I require.
Let me inioy soone, eke the place possesse
Thy selfe, and thereby my wo redresse,
So me for to requite with loue againe,
Sith I in hart thine owne shal still remaine,
Till sisters three shall rid my vitall twine,
Thy loue let me haue aie, for thou hast mine.
Grant this ye gods that glide on starrie skie,
And guide that Chaos ball most equally,
What ioy were this to me that am a thrall,
If thou thy mate wouldst me once frendly call.
Sith I so oft haue trauaile spent in wast,
To reape the wished frute now at the last.

The Louer hauing written manye times, almost past hope,

yet doeth renew his playnt againe.

The louer being denied, yet singeth this song, being constant,

with hope to obteine hir at the last that may reward him for his paine.

The Ladie by often intreatie being vanquished with loue, doth write a comfortable letter to her Louer.

The ioyfull louer hauing by earnest sute obtained her whom he loued, made this dittie following.

Tempus rerum edax.

Nothyng there is but aye,
at length doth vanish cleane,
For tyme doth weare away,
such things as earthly bene.
The Rose for all his hue,
the skarlet Gillowfloure,
The Uyolet so blewe,
doe vanish in one houre.
The tree that groweth bigge,
and windeth euery way,
Doth once rot euery twigge,
when time sayes nowe, decay.
The wight that here is borne,
at last doth lose his breath,
Though many wayes he turne,
and would not meete with death.
The marble stone most sure,
that lyeth: vnder feete,
Can not alwayes endure,
but goeth once to fleete.
The king that sits in throne,
with golden mace in hand,
At length shall be as none,
but earth on him to stand.
The house wherein we trust.
though hard as flint it be,
At length shall weare to dust,
a heape of stones to see,
The castel set on hie,
on hill that standeth stout,
Its seene that time doth trye,
and beat the sollage out.
The church that coured is
with lasting lead aboue,
At length time doth ne misse,
his beautie to remoue,
A doore of brasse strong made
of yron or such like,
Time causeth once to glad,
and with decay it strike.
The rock that standeth strong,
amyd the foaming flud,
Though that it lasteth long
time beateth it to mud.
The sea bankes that are hie,
and seene from land to land,
Time wasteth vtterlie,
aye farther for to stand.
The Gun that by his strength
can turrets ouerthrowe,
Time doeth consume at length
his power and might to shewe.
The hil that stretcheth long,
and casteth out his side,
As time doeth come more strong,
then he in fall doeth glide.
The starres that in the skie,
most thick set doe remaine,
Doe fade immediatlie,
when time doth come with main.
The sunne that shines so bright,
shall lose his comely grace,
And shewe no sparke of light,
as time doeth take his place.
The moone that wandreth fast,
and shineth on the land,
Must needes decay at last
when timely power is scande
The world of compasse round,
in fashion of a ball,
At length shall not be found
when time consumes it all.
Nothing there resteth stil
but consumes by and by,
When time doeth shew his will
then vades the earth and skie.

The Louer being willed of his Ladie to attire himselfe in blacke and blewe, demaunded the reason,

to whome she made this answere folowing by a letter.

Because that you (my deare) request
to know herein my will:
Wherefore that you in blacke and blewe,
should aye attire you stil.
The black is said by right report,
most constant to remaine:
And ne to change that colour sad,
for any other graine.
The blewe presents the wearers minde
and eke a louing hart:
Be tokening louely lyking still,
not soone aye to depart.
Then ioyne these two in one, and if
thy rayment touch the blacke,
I mixt with blewe a lace or like
my loue ne let it lacke.
For as the blacke presents a face
of faythfull trust to stay,
So doth the blewe aye represent,
a louing heart alway.
And for a token of true loue,
my ioy I send to thee
Enclosed here those colours two,
weare thou the same for me,
Wherein is tyde a slight present,
in recompence of thyne,
A tablet wrought, I giue it thee,
it is no longer myne:
As often as you weare the same,
for my sake and for me,
Then wish me well, for be thou sure,
I wish the lyke to thee.

The Louer writeth to his Ladie,

wherein he condiscendeth to weare the colours that she willeth him for hir sake.

In colours two sith you request
I should my selfe attyre,
As blacke and blew, I stand content
to answere your desire,
For where as black presents a mind
whom folly makes not fayne,
A colour fit it is for me,
changing for none other grayne.
If blewe a louing minde present,
and eke a faithfull hart,
It is for me that ne doth minde,
from constant loue to start.
But by the gift that you me sent,
I can not recompence
Inough, though daily I apply
thereto my full prsence.
Yet though I haue no gift to giue,
that worthy is of thee.
In place of other yet let this
suffice now sent from me:
And though it be a gift but light,
or recompence but small,
I giue my hand, I plight my faith,
I send my hart and all.
That keepe vntill I do repayre
to thee, though it belong,
My selfe to ioy in armes of loue,
and sing a ioyfull song.
Farewell my ioy, farewell my life,
farewell my hart to thee,
Farewell thou wight to whom I wish
more good then erst to me.

To him that was disappointed of his woman and louer.

To freat thy selfe in frantike wise,
to beate thy senslesse brayne,
To clyme where nothyng hangs for thee,
to fish where flowes no gayne,
Me thinkes it booteth not at all:
desist with speede therefore
The enterprise thou hast in hand:
this saw hath bin of yore,
That hard it is for to conuert
a womans vowed mynde,
Such sterne and stubborne kynde of God
to them is so assignde.
Hir loue not bent is towards thee,
whom thou dost fix in hart,
An other doth with ioy possesse
the wight that breedes thy smart.
Yet for to ease thy mynde, here is
enclosde I sende to thee
In token of beneuolence,
a wreath of willow tree.

The louer writeth in the praise of his Ladie

wherein he doth compare hir to a Laurel tree that is alwaies greene.

Like as the Bay yt bears on branches sweet
The Laurel leaf that lasteth alway greene
To change his hue for weather dry or weet,
Or else to lose his leafe is seldome seene.
So doth my deare for aye continue still,
As faythfull as the louing Turtle doue,
Rewarding me according to my will,
With faithfull hart for my most trustie loue,
And sith the time that we our loue began,
Most trustie she, yet hath endured aye,
And changeth not for any other man.
So constant she of fayth in heart doth stay.
Wherefore vnto that tree I hir compare,
That neuer loseth leafe, no more doth she
Lose tried trueth, how euer that she fare,
But alwayes one by loue in hart to me.
Thē bost I on this brāch of Bayes most pure,
Sith that so sweete I finde it at my hart,
And loue while that my life shall aye endure,
And till that death our bodyes two shall part.

The pretie birth of a childe.

It fortund late a Frenchman for to dwell
In England, where himselfe he quited well.
And tooke an Ihishwoman to his wife,
Hauing by her a childe of perfect life:
Now if this child beginning shall retaine
Of fathers side, a Frenchman he is plaine,
But contrary, if of the mother he
Shall take the spring, he Irish is to see,
But some say, that he shalbe of the land
Where he was borne, thē english shal he stand.

The wordes of a dame concerning her Louer,

spoken to one Mistresse Anne.

In fayth goo mistresse Anne I haue
found out a make in deede.
A proper man, and tall, and one
that seemes wil stand in steede.
I loue hym wel, more then I say,
I wish to him hys good,
I loue him like mine owne deere heart
or els my vytall blood.
For this you know that I ne loue
my blood once for to see,
No more I doe delight that he
within my sight should be.

In praise of his Ladie.

E Elisa dame that Carthage Queene,
N Ne Polixena faire beseene,
T T'aspire vnto my Ladies hewe,
H Helena ne with all the crewe,
I In passing sort may not compare,
N Nor vaunt them selues for beutie rare.
I In circuit huge her like ne is,
M Miron may muse and talke of this.
I In Greece though Apelles did frame,
A A picture cleere of Venus dame,
S Sertaine she doth the same excel
Of whome these lines the name doe tel.

Of foure kindes of men that maie sing at didner, and other meate meales.

The Gentleman that hath the store
of worldly wealth, may sing
At meales of meate, for pleasure great
that pleasant songs may bring.
And next by order check, the foole
that ioyes none other graine,
May sing and garre as doth the birde
against a shower of raine.
The Minstrel then that fidleth fine
at feeding times may play,
And sing to heape into his pursse
the coyne by night or day,
But cheefe, though last, the old cocke may
or cockold ne be dull
To crow and sing fond fantasies,
to hag from horned scull.

Of couetousnes and Lecherie together.

A pursse full fraught with gold,
as worldly misers frame,
Had one at codpice point, who tyed
with niggish knot the same:
Thus were these two together knit,
and ioynde in amitie,
A pursse with pelfe of couetise,
at lace of lecherie.

A perfect tricke to kill little blacke flees in ones chamber.

Take halfe a quart of barly graine
a quart of strongest beere.
And boyle withall in earthen pot,
a pint of water cleere,
Till all these three consumed be
to ounces twelue or lesse,
And then the place to which you will
these fleas in heaps to presse,
Anoynt with that: this water hath
in it this vertue raw
That all the fleas will thither come:
then take a slender strawe,
And tickle them on the small ribs,
and when you see one gape,
Thrust thē the straw into his mouth.
and death he ne shall scape.

Each thing in his vocation.

The preests ensearch for funerals,
and flatterers haunt the feast,
The surgions seeke the maimed, and
the Rauens carreyne creast.

The frailenesse of women.

An apple winnes hir mynde,
it lost is with a nut:
Hir toung hangs filed with no edge,
yet it will quickly cut.

To his friend of the frailenesse of dame Fortune.

VVhō fortune doth most smilingly aduance
Those sonest doth she cast vnto yt ground
Unequall hap she holdeth still by chaunce,
For to extoll, or else defame by sound.
I reade somewhat of Polycrates ill,
Who neuer felt the fel aduersitie,
Yet dreading lest she once would work her wil,
Into the sea did throw (to satisfie
Her brittle minde) a ring of value great,
Yet fortune thoght to shew hir power & might
And forst a fish with gulching iawes to eate
The same: which geuen to the king, by sight
The ring appeerde: with maruel he at last
Was captiue tane of great Orontes king,
And strangling string about his neck ycast,
Was forst adieu vnto his life to sing.
Learne thou by this I say my gentle frend,
That riches ranke, ne yet the precious stone
Can once deferre this fortune so vnkind,
For if it might this king had not been gone,
And for because that thou art set so hie,
And placed stayest in seate of this degree
Unwilling aye to lose authoritie,
I cannot chuse but now aduertise thee
To train thy selfe in such wise thou maist haue
(If fortune fraile should hap to slip from thee)
Ech mans good wil, wherby he might thee saue
Frō dangers dread, which yu might haply see,
For now a thing not rare it is in deede,
That where we wey our footesteps best to be
With slippery place then soonest doe we slide
Therefore marke wel that I haue said to thee.

The morning before the Louer went to his Ladie, made this petition to the Gods.

Golde is a signe men say
of happy lucke and loue,
Then graunt ye Gods I pray
that rule the skie aboue,
This my request to me,
that sith that I this night
Did dreame such gold to see
as answerd my delight,
That I may heare such newes,
of her that hath my heart,
Like as ioy stil insues
to rid me from my smart.
And Venus Goddes milde,
to whom the apple gaue
Young Paris Prince a child
a noble dame to haue
Graunt that I may by suite,
haue her I doe request:
And I wil geue the fruite,
to thee before the rest.

The foolishnes of a painter.

Repairing to a Painters place
to view such pictures rare
As he with pensil fine had framde
the fame away to beare.
Me thought I sawe such pictures there,
of beauties darlings braue,
As dyd surpasse, and condigne were
the onely brute to haue.
Whereby it seemde he far had sought,
by sea and eke by land,
Eche passing part of womanhood,
with eye had rightly skand.
At length his wife discending downe,
a passing peece in deede,
Me thought I neuer saw hir like,
attyrde in womans weede.
Who there dyd draw myne eyes to hir,
from pictures cleane away,
By whom was playne dame beuty then
hir banner did display.
And vewing there eche perfect poynt
which nature dyd apply,
That sely soule in couert wise,
I speake thus by and by:
Thou paynter that with curious eyes
hast seene ech courtly dame,
In mynde thereby by sight of such
a picture rare to frame,
What dydst thou meane to seeke so farre,
and hast at home a wife,
For beuty which knowes not hir peere
with woman which are cheefe,
Thou foole, if that thou list in deede.
with pensell to detrayne
A picture that all other shews
of pictures aye should stayne,
Or if thou meanst to frame a shew
of beauty catcht in net,
And such one as the gaole thereby
thy selfe thou erst might get,
Then forge the picture of thy wife,
and trauaile not for payne,
Sith she the cheefe of beauties stocke,
among vs doth remayne.

The grieuous complaint of him that had the hap to marie his mistresse.

When youthfull yeres did prick me forth
in stature for to growe
A tall yong man, and towardnes,
(to call) by sight to shew,
I did request in heart to be
a seruing man a space,
Whereto my freends dyd condiscend,
and wished me their grace.
A master meete my parents chose,
as best they thought in minde,
That should in seruice me retayne,
sith I thereto was clynd,
A gentleman of antike stocke
by alliance very good,
By pedigree and iust discent
he came of gentle blood:
And striken deep in yeres, this wight
a wife he had before,
A passing dame, a pleasant wench,
of beutie which had store.
They did continue many yeres,
in vertues wayes most pure
With faithful loue and amitie,
and frendships lore most sure.
In so much that there was cause gin
to neighbors round them by,
To blaze this bruite in euery place,
by fame both farre and nie,
Happy to be that aged soule,
and luckie for to stand,
That had by Gods appointed him
a wife to lead in hand,
That aye dame beuties baner braue
displaied in such wise
Withall, for vertue in no place
her like might once arise:
Wel, to ensue, dame Atropos
can shread his web in twaine,
Leauing no issue him behind
as his heire to remaine.
Whereby the right of land and lease
of siluer and of golde,
Descended solely vnto her,
for euer it to holde.
Then was this widow often sought,
in mariage league to wend,
But she refusing offers large,
to none would condiscend,
Then I remembring many times
her vertues manifold,
The seemely port, the comely grace
which she by sight did hold
But cheefly aye the worldly wealth
and riches pleasant store,
That by her husband was her left
surrounding aye the flore.
Was moued much by Cupid blinde
for to attempt with maine,
If that I might this passing wight
by any meanes obtaine.
And being daily conuersant
I wrought the matter so,
That in short time my hearts desire
I obtainde so my woe.
The mariage made, most ioyfull I
in heart did aye remaine
I neuer knewe what sorrow meant
ne felt what thing was paine.
Ah pleasantly we dyd consume
two moneths and no more,
In pleasant wyse then dyd I thinke,
to sue to get some store,
Of gold if that I myght,
I knew she had the same,
And fruitful bagges, but in no wise,
I could one crowne reclayme:
And as request was made of me,
this answere by and by,
Was gin of hir in crooked wyse,
and aye most frowardly,
Good sir, I wedded not for that,
aduauncement ne you gaue
To the intent that any store
of myne you should thus craue,
And thinke to be your owne, but this
much I do to you say,
If that you stand to my reward,
your labor ile repay:
And what I giue you take,
myne offer ne refuse,
I was your mistresse tyll I gaue,
you licence me to vse.
Such as is yours is myne,
and myne is sure myne owne:
Then none ye haue, ne none ye get,
vnlesse frendship be showne.
But I with rage and choler mooued,
ne could my selfe refrayne,
To me it was a present death,
and earst a piercyng payne,
That I shoulde be a womans thrall,
that I should be a slaue,
That I in place of husband, should
none of her substance haue.
It mooued me in deed, so that
though cleane agaynst my vow,
I was constraynd by fury fell
some blowes for to bestow,
But out alas, her freends forthwith
gan giue her freendly ayde,
Wherby I troden downe to ground
in mynd was aye dismayde:
And she puft vp by passyng pryde,
her head was growne so hye
Aboue my pate, that able she
was it with nayles to clye,
With pot, with candlesticke, and eke
with bedstaffe of huge weight,
Both stoole and forme flang at my face,
with care thus I was freyght.
On euery fide, oh miser most:
oh caytyfe borne to payne,
Oh diuels drudge, oh frantike foole,
that marry wouldst for gayne:
When I in stable serude the horsse,
Then was I wearier aye,
On bench with clownes whole peny vp,
at treygobet to play
Than I am now beside all this,
and which doth greeue me more,
Of hornes by hir vile whoredome strong,
accrueth to me store.
No remedy I finde the while,
for still before my face,
Roysters, ruffins, she retaynes
in bed, my rightfull place.
Wherefore a thousand tymes I wayle
my state and mysery,
A thousand tymes I call for death,
yet naythelesse can dye:
I shall liue longer than I would,
in thrall with mickle shame,
Oh God what hap had I, when first
I wedded home my dame.

The Louer by pleasant talke caused a Ladie to vnderstand how a shrew or vnhappie woman came first into the world.

Let no man muse but this was first
the ofspring of a shrowe,
As I in lynes here subsequent,
shall cause you for to know.
When as for sinne the thunderer
loue dyd the earth surround,
And ouerwhelmed aye with waues,
eche part of heauy ground:
Deucalion onely saued was,
and Pirrha then his wife,
(As Poets say) of mortals and
he longest ioyed life.
And whē perceiuerance did him take
that euery wyght was gone,
And that they two and no more
on earth were left alone,
Then pensiuely they tooke aduice
to Themis for to wend,
To wete how mankind might again
his former life entend.
This Goddesse can reply them to,
with answere on this wise,
If that Deucalion could find out
by sight of greedy eyes,
His mothers bones, and him behind
they throwen for to be,
Within short tyme they should start vp
men lyuing for to be,
This maruell much dismaide the mynds
of these two seely wights,
As though that they dyd fearefull stand,
by sight of hellish sprights:
But this Deucalion beyng wyse,
perceyued at the last,
The earth mother to be of all
things that are nowe and past:
And erst to be the spring wherehence
all mortals first did flowe.
By reason then of earth he was
(by wit) he prompt dyd knowe,
And aye her bowels for to be
the sandy crushing stones:
The marble and such like also,
appoynted her for bones.
Wherefore he threwe behynde himselfe
these stones of manifold,
Which to be men immediatly
(amasde he gan behold.)
Of these came all the men that nowe
are liuyng vnder skye:
And Pirrha mylde to play her part
behynd her by and by,
Gan throw as many stones as this
Deucalion threw before,
Which streight became a troupe of dames:
of both kindes there were store.
The reason now I guesse how that
such shrewes in earth abound,
In euery place among the men,
a number to be found,
Is this, the sea replet with salt,
dyd beate agaynst the land,
And many stones within the same
of saltish tast dyd stand,
Then to ensue, when all the earth
with sea was ouerrune,
There was no land but water all
to be seene vnder Sunne.
Decreasing yet it left such stones,
remayning on the land
As saltish were, a number sure:
perhaps to Pirrhas hand
Came one of those, and made a fem:
the salt must freat alway,
Within that wight which first was made
of salted stone or clay,
Whereby to choler it prouokes
and her in rage to fall
In frantike wise: a shrewe to be
such one we alway call.
For such was Morrell slayne,
and layde in saltish bryne,
For saltish shrewes his skyn was flayne
such shrewes in it to shryne.

Of faithfull friendship.

VVhen worldly wealth doth vade & decay,
And erthly riches to erth do turn againe
Yet freendship most stedfast and sure for aye,
Hap what hap may doth styll remayne.
May any man find the lyke of Carion
And Menalip companions aye,
Who to the death were friends? no not one,
Who kept this frendship most stedfest in stay,
There are freends dead, and of sorts twayne,
By prouing a man may finde it true,
The one in countnance all for gaine,
The others words dead to ensue.
Some men remember Pylades,
A faithfull man, a trusty wyght,
Oh sacred freend vnto Orestes,
Oh sparkling starre to giue vs light:
They all are gone and layd in graue,
Once we had Pilades, and once Orestes,
But them againe or like, we none shall haue,
Ne haue not nowe, to trace their progresse:
Menalip is gone, and Carion,
The sacred soules hath rapt them aye,
Their facts haue we as yet to looke vpon,
Such kept the flowre of freendship in stay.

What daunger insueth if a man enterprise a higher place then his degree can aspire vnto.

By fortune came a countrey clowne
to London, for to see,
And roming vp and downe the streetes
as best he thought to be,
Went to the court a place vnmeete
for such a carter playne,
The same tyme where for princes sport
great pastime to ordayne
Men went about: the nyght drew on,
and Luna with hir hornes,
The azure skie and element
with sparkling starres adornes.
And he thus learned of the boyes
or lackeys of the courte,
Such passing pleasure for to be,
and eke such princely sport,
Dyd mynde (if that he myght) to get
and wryng into the hall
To take the vewe, this boyish clowne
dyd nothing aye appall,
Though with the sight of nobles store
his doltish eyes were fed,
But loppreth to the vpper end,
his cap vpon his head.
One of the wayters seeing this,
him by the arme can hold,
And sayd sirrha, to come so nygh
how darest thou be bolde?
Come on, if that thou list to viewe
and see some pleasant sight,
Goe get thee out into the streete
and stare on the moone lyght.
But he with strugglyng gan refuse,
and very long resist,
Till at the length his eare dyd fetch
somewhat at porters fist.
(I know not what it was) but he
with anger chafed much,
Dyd thinke if he were at the doore
to recompence this tuch,
So that in deede (that place attayne)
vnwares to any wight,
He gaue the porter another blow,
with all his power and might.
The fellowes seeing this, gan run
on heapes vnto the doore,
And for one blow they dyd him gyue
whole twenty, yea and more,
In so much that the foolish sot
was forst almost to cry,
When as he felt a weighty fist
to hit him on the eye.
They layd on load, but at the last
he escaped from the doore,
Thinking aye to go so far,
he venture would no more,
But to beware by this, sith that
so foolishly he would.
Nowe venture in a place to high
for his decree so cold.
This chaunce doth often hap to such
as boldly do aspire
To highest top as they are led
by foolish fond desire:
Its often seene, that they which sit
at meat at the vpper end,
Are often placed all belowe,
and lowest thither send.
Let euery man him hold content,
and aye well pleased be,
In ech poynt, with such haps as are
most meete for his degree.

Of parents deformed hauing a beutifull childe.

Doubling doubts & musings much I stande
To see dame natures fact, by skilfull hand,
I muse how that the tree that beares by kynde,
The red hawe, should to chestnuts be inclynde:
I muse how that ye tree should change that sute
For grapes most pure his cat sloes soure frute
This change seems somwhat strange in deed to me
Such kindly gripes vnkindly for to be.
I muse how that dame nature could with skill,
And learning large of high Pernassus hill,
Frame such a peece on earth here for to stray
Of parents as were made of clodded clay.
I muse how that erst such a froward syr
With drowsie wife, whose loue is to the fire,
Should get a daughter damsell faire & bright,
For to display dame beauties banner bryght.
This fact departs by fame the onely deed,
Of thundring Ioue, yt giues ye good their meed
To rest with him, and paies the ill their hire.
For to descend to hell and flaming fire.

Of him that tooke a quart of wine when it was proffered by his freend, who minded to get a pottell.

One newly come to towne, of freends
a number he gan meete,
Aboue the rest, by freendly talke
one cheefly thus him greete,
Unto your welcome sir I haue,
some where a quart of wine,
Which willingly I would bestow
on you this present tyme.
Mary (quoth the other) gladly
your gentle gift I take,
The quart of wine I meane not nowe
with nay thus to forsake.
Nay quoth the other streight, you ought
for to haue offred me,
A pottell more for to requite
my gift offred to thee:
For curtesie doth will when that
one offreth thee a quart,
Thou shouldst him giue the like or more,
to shew thy gentle heart.
Beshrew me then (quoth the stranger)
for ere thou drinkst of mine,
I will be sure before hand aye,
to haue a taste of thine.
For many men most mindfully,
do often offer make,
Such things as they ne willingly,
would any time forsake.
But for a skill to get the like
vnder colour and face
Of curtesie where crabbed clawes
deceitfully do trace,
So nowe this quart of wine
is offred aye of thee,
To the intent that thou mightst get
a pottell more of me.

To hir the Louer writeth,

being familiarlie acquainted, refused in presence to speake to him.

Sith that thy fauour once I helde
and ioyed part thy grace,
What was the cause, that this disdayne
should vrge himselfe a place
In thee? at home I knowe,
and eke remember well:
Full louing tales and stories there
I often could thee tell,
And for reward I could receyue
of thee a kisse or twayne,
As iustly aye deserude of me:
in recompense of payne.
I then was bold to go with thee,
in chambers low and hie,
And in mine armes on bed of downe
haue thee thereon to lye,
Though I restrayned by forced feare
would neuer enterpryse
To taste of Venus sports, as things
ne to be seene with eyes.
Where as perhaps (as well appeard)
you willyng were thereto,
But that a doubt came in the wynde
that forst a freend a foe.
This token you remember well,
if that you list to yeeld.
She tooke a blow below the eare,
at Mooregate by the field.
To play at cardes and tables both,
to driue the tyme away,
And other games you coulde deuise,
as time serude day by day.
An hundred toyes were to be found,
that might vs merrie make,
Then had the Moone cleane lost hyr forme,
and was ne like a cake,
I was thy darling then, also
I dyd possesse thy hart:
Eche word that stubbornly was cast
dyd cause eche other smart.
Why now, what is the cause me tell,
that this so vile disdayne,
Should thee enforce ne to regarde
him that for thee bydes payne?
What was the cause that when you met
me with your fellowes mo,
And troupe of dames in open streete,
you would so slyly go.
And looke awry as though not meete
I were to see your face?
(Such freends as we are aye before)
this was a chaunged case.
But go thy way, to choose thy feere,
euen where it likes thee best,
Ile trouble thee from hence no more,
ne thee disturbe of rest.
But as long as by sight I know,
a woman from a sheepe,
For thy sake I will then beware,
and looke before I leape.

Of Vnthrifts.

Those men whose mindes are wolly bent
and set on pleasure vayne,
Do take no care to get the thrift,
that brings incessant gayne.

Of Whoredome.

As aye amongst th'vntamed beastes
that range amid the wood,
There is no greater rauenor than
the Wolfe of cruell moode.
And as the Puttoke doth surpasse
eche winged foule perdy,
By egernesse to skirre hir pray,
once seene with greedy eye:
So aye excelles this monstrous vice
of whoredome by hir kinde,
Eche other vice stupendious
by Sathan left behinde.

Like will to like.

Euen as good men reioyce alway
With good men for to be,
In companie to ioy with them:
so like it is to see,
Ill men reioyce with like to haue
their companie alwaies:
The good with like, the ill with ill,
do ioyne in all assayes.

Of vnwittie spending.

Me think such wights, small wit in head retaine,
Which do consume & spend that worldly gaine
Which they haue got with swet of browe and payne
no cause therefore:
Such treasure thē as they for long haue soght
In litle tyme for to consume to nought,
Such spendyng ay not taking any thought,
makes rich men poore.

Perit quicquid feceris ingrato.

Amongst such deeds, as when that they are done
Inforce a man for to repent therefore,
This one thing cheefe remaines for ech to shun,
Though there aboūd by knowlege many more,
What euer thing thou doest with zelous mind,
T'a churlish wight yt adage shewes such sense,
Its lost: he will not leaue his doggish kinde,
Ne neuer meane the same to recompence.

The propertie of Reprobates.

By kinde they that are lewde in deede,
doe ioy in heart alway,
When as the good misfortune find
and fall into decay.

A good man.

Perforce a perfect wight in deede,
to be, he beares the fame,
Which no man harmes ne doth delight,
his neyghbour for to blame:
Then it insewes, if he be good,
we should him follow still,
Sith we are taught to loue the good
and to abhorre the ill.
And if that vertue ought to be
imbrast of euery wight.
Then ought we all embrace that man
that vertuous is and right.

A perfect preseruatiue for health.

For keeping of a man in health
there is no better way,
Than for to eate and drinke by meane,
one meane to keepe alway,
And ne surpasse or change that meane
at one time more or lesse,
For measure brings a treasure tried
in pleasure or distresse.

A stupendious desire.

Some men there are that do imploy
and fix their greedy mynde,
To gather riches to themselues,
to priuate gayne inclynde:
And though they find no end of wealth,
yet more they do desire,
And kindle vp vpon their heads,
a flashing flame of fire.

Olde men.

Al liuing wyghts whom that
old Senex staffe hath smit,
Denieth youthfull slouthfulnesse,
and otherwise delite.

Diuersitie of remembrance.

VVe all are wont (as well is knowne)
to prynt and beare in mynde,
A lesson touching naughtinesse,
to which vice is inclinde,
More sooner than a godly phrase:
so great diuersitie
Of good and yll, we alwayes finde
fixt in our memory.

The deceites of the Foxe.

For to haue learnde the Foxes wiles,
and rightly vnderstand,
Were readiest meane them to preuent
before they come to hand.

Of a womans hatred.

The anger of a shrew is aye,
more greeuous to some wight,
Then is the sting of serpent strong,
that bringeth mickle spite.

Of boasting and bragging.

He that doth litle thing performe,
yet bragges at euery house:
May be compared to an hill,
that once brought forth a Mouse.

A signe of anger.

If that he bends the browes
in frowning wyse to lowre,
We say that he then angry is,
or hath an angry showre,

The sudden falling into danger

No wight there is that steppeth forth
or traceth on the ball,
That can from daunger him exempt,
so soone as in it fall.

The pitie of Dormice.

Of pitie this is a signe.
And condigne aye for to be knowne.
Howe that yong Dormice alway feede,
Their syers that in age are growne.
And when that they ne able are,
To trauayle for their pray,
The yong ones yet the same will get.
And bryng to rest alway.

Of imdietie of children.

VVho can deny but vertue all
is vanisht out of place,
When as the children ne obey
the fathers in no case.

The sinnes of Kings.

VVhen euer as the king doth sinne,
and iustly Ioue therefore,
Doth vengeance giue, to the intent
that he should sinne no more:
We alwayes see the plague to light,
on commons many a one,
As well as on the wight that finde
and forceth them to grone.

Of eating of egges

At meate there met both he and she,
among those dishes rare
That there were set (not daintie though)
came egges t'augment the fare,
(Quoth she) if that you eate this egge.
the prouerbe doth ensue,
Three shames herewith incontinent
shall happen vnto you.
But he applying this egge,
not printing that in minde:
There fell a drop, thers one (quoth she)
the other be behinde.
With that he clapt the egge into
his mouth, the shelles and all,
Theres two (quoth she) watcht for the third,
till that it doth befall.

To him that was angrie because the Cuckow did sing before his doore.

Frend rage not with the Cuckow,
though he sings before thy doore,
And Cuckow cry, ne chaunging aye,
the tune he sang before.
He cryes not Cuckold, though much like,
thy wife do thou not blame,
For though thou thinkest he Cuckold cryes,
perhaps it is not thy name.

Of Sugar and Salt.

Sugar and Salt begyn with like letter,
though sugar be good, yet salt is better:
This sugar is sweete in mouth to the taste,
yet doth the Scripture shew vs at the last,
That salt doth season all things that there be,
and no such mention of suger we see.

Of hastie wiuing.

He doth desire a wife in deede,
and thinks it very sweete,
That willingly would marry aye,
eche harlot he doth meete.

Of despising of the poore.

Though that he falne be in decay,
and wanteth to maintaine,
Yet it is not a godly point
to scorne the wight in paine.

Of harlots.

An harlot sure in outward shew
professeth feruent loue,
But from her heart she doth expell
and faithful loue remoue.
But certaine she is crauing stil,
and greedy of thy golde,
And without that or such like giftes,
no more touch they wil holde.
As long as thou doest fill her hand
with money, they remaine
Thine owne: but they are gone when that
they haue no hope of gaine.

Of keeping companie with naughtipacks.

He that doth cling to felowship
of naughtipacks alway.
Its maruel if he with their blots,
himselfe ne spotteth aye.

The Prouerbe.

In age he hardlie shal enioy,
or riches store obtaine
That could ne finde in heart in youth
to geue himselfe to paine.

Of anger without a cause.

He that doth freat for each light cause,
or trifle in respect,
May wel be calde a foole by kinde,
his follie to reiect.

Of husbandrie and Scholers.

Such as doe toyle to till the land,
and husbandrie maintaine:
Such as doe plowe and cart, abide
ten times more greeuous paine,
Than such as doe indeuour aye
and learning sweete desire,
And geue themselues by pleasant trade
sweete letters to aspire.

Another Prouerbe.

He seemes vnwise that doeth intend
the top of house to raise,
Before that he hath cast the floore
to beare the heauie paise.

The error of the wicked.

As the Egles doe contemne
at beetles for to smite,
So rich men doe, to scorne the poore,
in heart ofttimes delite.

Of pleading where a man is not heard.

It better were that euery wight
should hold his peace alway,
Than for to speake and waste his wind
not being heard for aye:
Yea where the people ne esteeme
his words, but count as vaine,
There were he better hold his peace,
and take no wilful paine.

The frailnesse of youth.

Youthly age is bent so much
to foolish fond aspect,
That if the masters wil not once
with tongue their faults detect.
Another time, the worser mad
you shal them surelie finde,
If that it happen so, that
correction be blinde.

Nothing is hid from God.

VVhat sinne soeuer thou commit
if it be great or small,
If it be in most secrete place,
yet God beholds all.

Of flatterie and lieng.

Flatterie beares a skill with it,
But lying comes by mother wit.

A faithfull frend.

Doutlesse a frend he is in deede,
and ought to be accounted sure,
Which shewes himselfe a frend vnto
his frend, as long as life endure.

Of costlie apparel.

Extreme follie it seemes to be
attyred in such wise,
To which thy base state and degree
by much ne may arise.

Of Neighbourlie aide.

Let it ne greeuous seeme to thee,
thy neighbour to releeue,
Sith he, if thou shouldst meete with neede
the like to thee may geeue.

Of good counsell.

Good councell see that thou obey
at first when thou begin,
Ne in such hazard doe thou slide,
and sodenly fall in:
From which thou maist not easily pul
or drawe thy foote againe,
And thus repent when its too late,
encreasing stil thy paine.

Of him that would fight at home, and no where els.

VVith me ne wouldst thou striue,
ne yet deuision make,
But at home on thine owne dunghill,
where all cocks proudly crake.

Of a couetous mind.

So sparing he is stil, and harde
of that he doeth recleame,
That easier it is for to get
or drawe a water streame
Out of a Flint, then for to wring
a penie from his bagge
Where thousands lie, his best coat yet
is but a rotten ragge.

The Prouerbe.

In braue attyre who pampreth vp
his corps for seemely sight,
In veluet, purple, and such like,
his purse then waies most light.

Of wicked children.

The childe that doeth account,
and thinketh ought for aye:
His Parents worthie ne to be
to whom he should obaye,
Most meete is to be expelde,
out from the christen flock,
Least graffes we should haue more to growe
out of such wicked stocke.

Of vvailing for the dead.

VVhat profiteth to waile the dead,
and strike my selfe with paine,
A man may weepe til heart strings breake,
yet haue not them againe.

Of parents.

It is not parents wit by right,
so much the childe to hate,
Rather to see him cast away
than roughly him to rate.

Of such as had rather haue harlots than wiues

By wit I ne allow the vse
ne councel of that wight
Which rather would frequent the house
of harlots day and night.
Then chastly for to take a wife.
and Himeneus please:
And rather would sustaine stil strife.
than alwaies liue at ease.

Of him that esteemeth riches more than frendship.

Vnworthy he of frendship is,
that more esteemeth gold
Than faithful frendship, which as long
as very life doeth hold.

Of Destinie.

No destinie a man may scape,
as reason doeth allowe:
And hanging is a destinie,
as many men doe know:
Then if a wight doth throwe himselfe
amyd the surging sea,
In mind thereby to meete with death,
and drowning him to slea:
Yea though he fight in skirmige dure,
and braul with such as be
Surpassing him by manly force,
yet thus much doe we see:
Though many wayes for death he seek
himselfe away to cast.
If hanging be his destinie,
he hang shal at the last.