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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[Perhaps you thinke, that all for spight] |
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 | The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton |  |
[Perhaps you thinke, that all for spight]
A Ditty in despight of a very olde man, who was suter to a very young Gentilwoman: written by a young Gentilman, who was then (in deede) suter to the same Lady.
Perhaps you thinke, that all for spightI writ this running verse,
Wherein I doo such deepe dispraise
of doting fooles rehearse:
No, no (good faith) I hate no man:
but yet, to such a snudge,
Of force I must, I cannot chuse,
but beare a certaine grudge.
For as one way I honour age,
so such olde doting doltes,
That, at the age of three score yeares,
would faine seeme but young coltes:
Those crusty chaps I cannot loue,
the Diuell doo them shame:
God let them neuer haue good lucke
of any noble Dame,
Much lesse th[e] loue: alas, my heart,
it rendes for very greefe,
To thinke vpon the crabbed crust,
that vile old doting theefe,
That seekes to robbe thee of all ioyes,
and me of my delight:
Wo woorth that so shall seeke,
to winne a worthy wight:
And seeme to match a miching Carle
with such a pearlesse peece,
As neuer yet, Appelles fine,
could paint the like in Greece.
Well, well, this is the world, (we see)
tis money makes the man,
Yet shall not money make him yong
againe, doo what he can:
No, nor yet honest sure, I iudge,
nay more, for troth I know,
The older still, the more in crafte,
his braines he dooth bestow.
And crafte and Knauery commonly,
with crooked crabbed age,
With Auaryce and Jelosy,
dooth make a mariage.
These are the fruites of froward age,
which thou shalt reape, God wot:
When thou wilt say, oh, had I wist,
in faith then would I not.
Well, say not yet but thou art warnde,
by him that likes thee well,
Thou comber not thy comly corps,
with such a Coystrel:
Whose crusty chaps, whose Aly nose,
whose lothsom stinking breath,
Whose toothles gumms, whose bristled beard,
whose visage, all like death,
Would kill an honest wench to view:
and so it will doo thee,
If so thou hap to match thy selfe
with such a snudge as he.
My counsaile therefore follow, wench,
cast of the crabbed knaue:
And henceforth, not one merry word,
ne looke yet let him haue:
But frowne vpon the froward foole,
and when thou seest him glad,
Knit thou thy browes, hang down thy head,
& then seeme yu most sad.
As who would say, the crabbed lookes
of his old doting age
Of force you know must needes offend,
a youthfull personage:
Let therfore crummes, as fyttest is,
with crustes then linked be:
For trust to this, that like to like,
will euer best agree.
| The Works in Verse and Prose of Nicholas Breton | |