University of Virginia Library

[To verses which in bookes discribe, to thee thine honor due]

To verses which in bookes discribe, to thee thine honor due,
From reader ought in iudgement iust, more fauor to ensue.
But if thou hap offended be, who then dare be my frend?
No skant vnto my selfe I should, my faithfull frendship lend.
When as a house decayed is, and setled on the syde,
Then all the massye waight thereof, to yelding parts do slyde.
Or els whereas by fortunes force, a chincke therein is maide,
Wyth paise thereof in tract of time, the fame is sone decaide.
The great enuye of men so we, by hurtful verse do finde,
And people be (as meete it is) to Cæsars syde enclinde.
When as my life and maners yet, were more alowde I knowe,
And by the horse the same I iudge, which then thou did bestowe.
The which although it profit nought, nor honest prayse I haue,
Yet from the name of cruell crime, my selfe I wyshe to saue.
Nor cause to mee committed was, of giltye men amis,
For Iudges ten times ten to looke, vppon whose office is.
And priuate plaints without offence, as Iudge I did decree,
With vpright minde the same I gaue, it will confessed bee.
And that (O wretch) if latest deedes, had not offended more,
Euen by thine owne assent I should, not once be saude before.
The latest actes do me destroy, my shippe which safely saild,
In depththy seas and swallowing waues, through sturdy storme is faild.
No litle part of whelming waues, oppresseth mee alone,
But all the flocke of flowing flouds, and Ocean seas in one.
Why sawe I ought? myne eyes why haue, I gilty causd to be?
Why is my fault vnweeting I, now knowing so well to mee?
The nackt Diana Acteon saw, vnwares as he did pas,
To hungrye houndes a present praye, no whit the lesse he was.
For mightye Gods do punish those, by chaunce that do offend,
Nor pardon ought where powers be hurt, to such mishappes do lend.
So in that daye wherein I was, wyth error thus begild,
Our litle house decayed is, wyth fault yet vndefild.
And litle though: yet of good fame, euen in my fathers dayes,
Nor vnto none inferiour now, for honours noble prayse.
Not for the wealth nor want thereof, it can so wel be knowen,
For neyther can because whereof, our knightly name is growen.
And be it by our byrth or rente, our house be litle namde,
My wits and painefull studyes causd, abroade it hath bene famde.
Which though percase I seeme to vse, as yong and wantonlye,
Yet by that meane through world so wyde, my famous name do flye.
Of Naso eke the name is knowne, amids the learned thronge,
Who dare of him the same recorde, no abiect men amonge.
This house therefore to muses grate, in great decay is fall,
By one offence and carefull cryme, yet not accompted small.
But so decayde as ryse it may, if that the raging ire,
Of greued Cæsar waxeth rype, to wonted vse retire.
Whose gracious mercy is so great, in iudgement of our paine,
That not so much as we did feare, we haue receyued plaine.
Our life is geeuen and not my death, his gentle wrath doth craue,
Wyth vsed power (O noble Prince) we pray therefore to saue.
I haue also with thine assent, my fathers liuings all,
As though my life thou did accompt, a gift that were to small.
My doolefull deedes hast not condemde, by Senates close assent.
Nor by decree of them opprest, in wretched exile sent.
Wyth thretning woords rebuking vice (as best a prince be seeme)
Offences all thou doest reuenge, and mercy so esteeme.
And those decrees which were pronounce, in sterne and asper wyse,
Yet in the name of lighter fault, thou wild it should suffise.
Thus as dischargd and sent away, no exiles name I haue,
My happye dayes depryuing so, and life thereby to saue.
No paine or griefe so greeuous is, no trouble such of minde,
As to displease so great a Prince, his vengeance therto finde.
But Gods which whilom moued were, sometimes appeased bee,
And skowling cloudes once driuen asyde, a day full fayre we see.
The Elme which lately blasted was, depryued of his greene,
The clustred vynes eftsones to beare, full oftentimes is seene.
And though thou do forbid to hope, we hope assuredlye,
This one thing yet may come to passe, though thou therto denye.
My hope encrease (O gentle Prince) when thee I do behould,
And eke decrease when I respect, my faults so manyfould.
The roring rage of swelling seas, is not alike alwaye,
Nor furyes fearce doth euer last, in tossing streames to staye.
But sometimes be more calme and cleare, and cease their vsed toyle,
To make vs thincke the force were lost, of billowes boistrous broyle.
So do my feares both ryse and fall, sometime in doubt remayne,
In hope and dreade of thy good will, to passe or proue my payne,
For loue of Gods therefore which geeue, the long and happye dayes,
(If they of noble Romaynes do) esteeme the name and prayse)
For countrye eke which thou do keepe, as gyde and father deare,
Whereof my selfe a part I was, and thence now passed cleare.
To thee the stately towne so shall, wyth honours due resound,
Who doost for wit and famous factes, in wonderous wyse abound.
So Liuia wyth thee remayne, and liue in wedded lyfe,
Which were but euen for the alone, a farre vnworthy wyfe.