The tryumphes of Fraunces Petrarcke translated out of Italian into English by Henrye Parker ... The tryumphe: of Loue. Of Chastitie. Of Death. Of Fame. Of Tyme. Of Diuinitie |
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 | The tryumphes of Fraunces Petrarcke |  |
Unto the mooste towarde yonge gentle Lorde Matrauers,
sonne and heyre apparaunt to the worthy and noble
Earle of Arundel, your poore frende Henry Parker
knyght, Lorde Morley, prayeth to God that
the vertue whiche doth floryshe in you in this youre tender age, maye more and
more increase in you, to the comfort of all that loue you, vnto the laste age.
[The Tryumphed Loue]
The first Chapter of the Tryumphe of Loue.
In the tyme of the Renewinge of my suspyresBy the swete remembraunce of my louely desyres
That was the begynnynge of soo longe a payne
The fayre Phebus the bull dyd attayne
And warmyd had the tone and tother horne
Wherby the colde wynter stormes were worne
And Tytans chylde with her frostye face
Ran from the heate to her aunciente place
Loue, grefe, and complaynt, oute of reason
Had brought me in such a case that season
That myne eyes closed, and I fell to reste
The very Remedye to such as be oppreste
And there on the grene, as I reposed fast
Sodenly me thought, as I myne eyes vp cast
I sawe afore me a maruelous great lighte
wherin as well comprehend then, I myghte
Was doloure ynough wyth smale sporte & play
And thus in my dreame musyng, as I laye
I sawe a great Duke victorious to beholde
Tryumphyng on a chayre, shynyng as golde
Muche after the olde auncient sage wyse
That the bolde Romayns vsed in there guyse
When to the Capytoll the vyctors were brought
With right riche Robes curiously were wrought
I that such sightes was not wont to se
In this noyous worlde wherein I fynde me
Uoyde from the olde valure & yet more in pryde
Dyuerse men wyth straunge and queynte arraye
Not vsyd amonge vs at this present daye
Which made me wonder what persōs thei shuld be
As one glad to learne, and some new thinges to se
There sawe I a boye on a firye chayre on hyghte
Drawen with foure coursers all mylke whight
Wyth bowe in hande and arrowes sharpe & keene
Against whome no shylde nor helme so sheene
Myght in no wyse the mortale stroke wythstand
When he shote wyth his most dreadfull hande
To this also a straunge sight to se
Two wynges vpon his shoulders had he
wyth coloures more then I can wryte or tell
A thousande dyuers this I noted well
And all the rest were nakyd to the skynne
Aboute the chayre where that this boye was in
Some laye there deade gapynge on the grounde
Some with his dartes had taken meny a wound
Some were prysoners and could not scape away
But folowed styll the chayre nyght and day
I that sawe this wonderfull straunge sight
To know what it mente, dyd that I myght
Tyll at the last I dyd perceaue and se
My selfe to be amonge that company
So had loue led me on that dawnce
That as it lyked her, so must I take the chawnce
I then among that great number in that place
Lokyng here and there in eche mannes face
Yf any of myne Acquayntaunce I coulde se
But none was there except perchaunce that he
By age or death or payne was chaunged quyte
Wyth folowing that great kyng in that houre
That is the grounde and cause of all dolowre
Thus all astonied as I loked here and there
All sodenly afore me then dyd there appeare
A shadowe much more sadde for to regarde
Than all the reste that I had sene or harde
This sayd shadowe called me by name
And sayd by loue is gotten all this fame
Whereat I marueyled and sayde to hym agayne
How knowest thou me, to learne I wold be faine
For who thou arte I doo not knowe at all
So wonderous derke is here this ayre and all
That I can nether perceaue nor yet well se
What man thou art nor whence yt thou should be
To that anone this shadowe to me sayde
I am thy frende thou nedest not be dismayde
And borne in Toscane where yu was borne perdye
Thyne auncient frende if that thou lyst to se
His wordes whiche that I knewe by dayes paste
By his speche, I knewe hym at the last
All though his face, I coulde not then well se
And thus in talkyng together went we
And he beganne and thus to me dyd saye
It is right longe and thereto many a day
That I haue loked the my frynde to se
Amonge vs here in this our companye
For thy face was to me a token playne
That ones thou shouldest know loues payne
To whome I made aunswere and sayde
These wordes by me they cannot be denayde
But the sorowe the daunger and the dreade
So put me in feare, that I left all asyde
Leste that my seruyce should be cleane denyde
Thus sayd I and when he well perceyued
Myne entention and my wordes conceyued
Smylynge he sayde what flame of fyre
Hath loue kyndled in thy hartys desyre
I vnderstode then lytle what he ment
For his wordes vnto my heade then went
As fyrme and fast sure set anone
As they had bene prynted in a marbell stone
And thus for the newe game that I begane
I prayde hym tell me of verie gentlenes than
What people these were that afore me went
He aunswered bryfely to myne intente
That I should knowe what they should be
And be shortly one of theyr companye
And that it was my destany and lotte
That loue shoulde tye for me such a knotte
That I shoulde fyrst chaunge my heade to graye
Or that I coulde vnclose that knot away
But to fulfyll thy yonge desyre sayth he
I shall declare what kynde of men they be
And fyrst of the capteynes of them all
His maner playne declare the I shall
This is he that loue the worlde doth name
Bytter as thou shalt well conceyue the same
And much the more when the tyme shall be
That thou shalt be amonge this companie
A meke chylde in his lustye yonge age
And in elde one all full of rage
Well knoweth he that thys hath prouyd
Thy selfe shall well see and vnderstand
What a maister thou hast then in hande
This god hath his fyrst byrth of ydelnes
Noryshed with mankyndes foly and wantones
And of vayne thoughtes plesaunt and swete
To a sage wyse man nothynge mete
Callyd a god of the people most vayne
All be it he geueth for theyr rewarde and payne
Some the death forthwyth out of hande
Some alonge tyme in miserye to stand
To loue I say them that loues not hym
Fast tyed and fetred both cheke and chynne
Nowe haue I declared to the this goddes feste
Nowe wyl I tell the in order of the reste
Hym that thou seest that so lordely doth go
And leadeth wyth hym his loue also
It is the valeaunte Cesar, Iulius
Wyth hym is quene Cleopatra the beutiouse
She tryumphes of hym and that is good ryghte
That he that ouercame the worlde by myght
Should hymselfe ouer commen be
By his loue euen as thou mayest se
The next vnto hym is his sonne deare
The great Augustus that neuer had peare
That louyde more iustly then Cesar playne
By request hys Lynya he dyd obtayne
The thyrde is the dyspytefull tyraunte Nero
That furyously as thou seest doth go
And yet a woman hym ouercame
Wyth her regardes Lo she made hym tame
Beholde the same, is the good Marcus
Full of phylosophy both the tounge and breste
Yet for Fausteyn he standeth as at reste
The tother two that stand hym by.
That loke both twayne so fearefullye
The tone is Denyse the tother Alexander
That well was rewarded for his slaunder
The tother was he that soore complayned
Under Autander wyth teares vnfayned
The death of Crensa and toke awaye
The loue from hym as the poete doth saye
That toke from Enander his sone deare
Among the rest thou mayest se hym here
Hast thou harde euer reason heretofore
Of one that neuer would consent more
To hys stepmothers foull and shamefull desires
But flye from her syght and her attyres
But wo alas that same chast honest mynde
Was his death as thou mayst playnely fynde
Because she chaunged hyr loue vnto hate
Phedra she hyght that caused the debate
And yet was it hyr owne Death also
A sore punyshment vnto both them two
To the sens that deceyued Adryan
Wherefore it is full often founde than
That one that blameth another parde
He hymselfe is more to blame then he
And who so he be wythouten any doubte
That by fraude or crafte doth go aboute
Another that trusteth hym for to beguyle
Yt is good reason that wyth that selfe wyle
He be seruyd wyth that same sawse
This is he the famouse worthy knyght
That betwyxt two systers standeth vpryghte
The tone by hym was cruelly slayne
The tother his loue in ioye dyd remayne:
He that goeth with hym in the route
It is Hercules, the stronge, fierce, and stoute
That loue caused to folowe hyr daunce:
The tother whiche in louynge had hard chaunce
It is Achylles the Greke so bolde
That for Polexemes loue dyed, as it is tolde.
There mayst thou see also Demophone
And Phylys hys loue, that sore dyd mone
Hys absence, wherby that she dyed.
Lo those that stande vpon the tother syde
Is Iason, and Medea that for his loue
Deceaued hyr father his trueth to proue
The more vngentle is Iason in dede
That gaue hyr suche rewarde for hyr mede.
Hysyphyle foloweth and she doth wayle also
For the barbarouse loue was taken hyr fro
Next in ordre there commeth by and by
He that hath the name moost excellently
Of bewtye, and with hym commeth she
that ouersone behelde his beutye
Wherby ensued innumerable of harmes
Thoroughe out the world by Mars charmes
Beholde I praye the among the companye
Enone complaynynge full heauely
For Parys that dyd hyr falsly betraye
And toke in hyr stede fayre Helen awaye
Se also Menelaus the Grekysse kynge
And Hermon the fayre Horestes for to call
And Laodome that standeth all apall
Crye for hyr loue the good Protheossolaus
And Argia the faythfull for Pollynisus
Here I pray the, the greuous lamentynges
The syghes, the sorowes, and the bewaylynges
Of the myserable louers in this place
That are brought into so dolorous case
That there spyrytes they are about to rendre
Unto the false God that is so sclendre
I can not nowe tell the all the names
That the false God of loue thus tames
Not onely men that borne be mortall
But also the hyghe greate Goddes supernall
Are here in this greate and darke presse
What shulde I any more nowe rehearse
Se where Uenus doth stande with Mars
Whose heade and legges the yron doth enbrase
And Pluto and Preserpyne on the other syde
And Iuno the ielyous for all hyr pryde
And Apollo with his gaye golden lockes
That gaue vnto Uenus scornes and mockes
yet in Thessalia with this boyes fyrye darte
This great God was pearsed to the harte
And for conclusion, the Goddes and Goddesses al
Of whome Uarro doth make rehearsall
Beholde how afore loues chayre they goo
Fast fettred and chayned from toppe to too
And Iupiter hymselfe, the great myghty kynge
Amonge the other, whiche is a maruelous thing.
The second Chapter of the Tryumphe of Loue.
All musynge wyth greate admirationAs one astonnyed to see the fasshyon
Nowe here, nowe there, I loked all aboute
To se the order of this greate huge route
And as my harte from thought to thought past
I sawe twayne together at a caste
Hande in hand they went in the prease
Reasonynge together they dyd not sease.
Theyr straunge habyte, and theyr araye
And theyr language more straunge I saye
Was vnto me so darke and obscure
That what they ment I knowe not be ye sure.
Tyll my felowe by his interpretation
Of that whiche they talked made declaration
And then when I knewe what they were
Into theyr presence I drewe me nere
And perceaued that the one spirite was
Frende to the Romaynes that there dyd passe
The tother contrary a perpetuall foo
I lefte hyr then, and to the tother dyd goo
and sayde: O Masinissa I the praye
For Scypyons sake which thou dydst loue alway
That I am so bolde be thou not angrye
To demaunde the what thou doest here
Masinissa aunswered with a sad chere
I do desyre to knowe what thou shulde be
For it is I tel the a great wonder vnto me
That thou doest spye my great affection
whiche that I beare with suche disection
To this my loue, and to my tother frende
That desyre of me, and I wyll condescende
To all that thynge that thou wylt haue me do
I aunswered gently, O hyghe prynce not so
My poore estate desyreth no suche mede
A small lytle fyer farre of indede
Bryngeth forth but a small lyght:
But thy royall fame, O noble knyght
Is euery where blowen and spredde
This duke afore whome thou arte ledde
I praye the gently kynge expresse
Whether he doth lede you both in peace
You and Sophonysba, for I suppose
That twayne suche louers as together goese
In all the worlde were harde to fynde:
He aunswered and sayde, thy wordes are so kind
That although thou knowe hole the case
Of all my loue howe greuous that it was
Yet wyll I tell the thy fancy to appease
And thy mynde to set at rest and ease,
That noble Duke that onlye had my harte
So true and sure, and fast in euery parte
That I in frendshyp with Lelins may compare
Whersoeuer his worthy baner dyd fare,
But not so fortunate as he deserued by ryght
For full of goodnes and grace was he
Aswell wyth soule as in the fayre bodye
Nowe after the Romaynes by singler honoure
Had sprede theyr armes by myght and power
To the extreme partes of the occident
Thither wyth this valeaunt Scipion I went
There was I, in loue fyrst taken than
Wyth this Sophonisba this swete woman
And she with me in such a feruent guyse
That I affirme and with so true aduyse
That neuer two louers loued better
Nor two true louing hartes nor sweter
Agreade in one nor yet neuer shall
But the tyme of duryng alas it was but small
For sone vanished away our louely chere
As I tell the yf that thou wilt me here
For albeit, I toke her to my wyfe
And thought with her to haue led my lyffe
The bond was broken forthwith in twayne
By his holy wordes that more myght certayne
Then all the worlde in such faruente case
The knot he losed and I my selfe gaue place
And nowe wonder for I in hym dyd see
So highe vertue in all kynde of degree
That as I may say by good comparison
He is all blynde that cannot see the sonne
And albeit that iustice was offence
To oure true loue yet his high prudence
And his deare frendshyppe dyd me compell
For to folowe his sage worthy councell
And in loue a chylde in yche degree
A brother in yeres which me constrayned
Wyth heuy harte with sighes depe payned
Scipio to obeye whereby my wyfe
Was constrayned for to lose her lyfe
And that wyllingly rather then she
Into vyle seruitude brought should be
And I my selfe the mynister was
To my great doloure to execute this case
So ardently she desired the death
That I my selfe as the trueth sayeth
To her prayer dyd then condiscend
To my great heuynes this was the ende
I sent her venyme for to drynke
Wyth such a sorowe as thou mayest thynke
Yf euer thou feltes of loues woo and payne
That it semeth my harte wolde brest in twayne
She knoweth this and so well knowe I
Be thou the Iudge and thynk I do not lye
Thus loste I my dere hope and luste
To kepe my fayth and not to be vniuste
Unto my Scipio nowe seke yf thou may
Yf thou canst se in all this great arraye
Or ells perceaue in all this louers daunce
So wonderfull and so straunge a chaunce
Wyth these wordes that he declared to me
Calling to minde as I myght playnely se
The hoote fyery loue betwixt them twayne
My harte euen there so relentyde playne
As doth the snowe agaynst the feruent sonne
When that his beames to sprede he hath begonne
I harde her say and that right hastely
This felowe pleased me nothing at all
I am determined ye and euer shall
To hate hym and all his nacion
When that I harde her speake of this facion
I sayd Sophonisba I praye the be in peace
For bryfelye the truth to the to reherse
Two times the Romaynes thy cartage oppressed
That as theyr subiectes to be they all confessed
The thirde tyme they destroyde it cleane
That nowe vnneth thereof is nothyng sene
Sophonisba answered to me agayne
With short wordes and in great disdaine
Yf Aufrike wept Italie had no nede
For to make bost of theyr lucky spede
Aske those that your hystoryes do wryte
For they the trueth of both perties do endite
Thus they went both together in fere
Among the great prease here and there
Smiling and talkyng that I ne might
No more of them haue after that a sight
Then as one that at aduenture doth ride
To knowe the right way on euery syde
Nowe standeth, nowe goeth, nowe hyeth a pase
Euen so my fancye at that time it was
Doubtefull and desyring to knowe by proue
Howe faruently these twayne dyd loue
Tyll at the last as I cast myne eye
Upon the lyft hande I sawe me by
One that had this straunge effecte
To seme angry because he dyd abiecte
By pytie to geue her to another
And reioysed much so for to doo
And all together as louers they dyd goo
Talkynge of this merueylouse case
And of Syrya that countre where it was
I drue me nere to these spirites thre
That were aboute, as farre as I can see
To haue gone from thense another way
And to the first of them thus dyd I say
I pray you sayde I, a whyle for to abyde
Anone the fyrste he dyd cast his heade asyde
When that he harde me speake Italyan
And wyth a ryght angrye countenaunce than
He stode styll and streyght began to tell
That which I thought to be a great maruell
Thou desyrest my frende to knowe sayeth he
What I am and what that I should be
I am Selencus brifely to discus
And this afore the is my sonne Antiocus
Which had great warre with ye Romaines nation
But right agaynste fierce hath no dominion
This woman that thou sest was fyrst my wyfe
And after was his for to saue hys lyfe
It was then lefull for vs so to doe
Her name is Stratonica she was called so
And oure chaunce by loue was thus deuyded
And vnder this facyon the matter was guyded
My sonne was contented to release to my hande
His great kyngdome and all his large lande
I vnto hym my loue and lady deare
When that I sawe hym for to chaung his chere
So that vnneth he myght not drawe his breath.
I maruayled muche what the cause shoulde be
Secretely my wyfe for trueth loued he
That not disclosinge his wofull payne
My dere sonne by loue was well nere slayne
And had ben deade, but that the wyse phisician
Disclosed to me the very cause than
Of all his sycknes whiche he kept close
Surely this came of a vertuouse purpose
And of a wonderous fatherly pytie of me
Sayinge these wordes awaye went he
So that I coulde vnneth bydde hym farewell
And this was all that then he dyd me tell
After that the shadowe thus was gone
Syghynge and sadde, I made great mone
Because I myght not to hym disclose my hart
But styll as I stode thus musynge aparte
I knowe that Zerzes the great kynge of Perce
Whiche ledde an Army as hystories reherce
Of men innumerable, had neuer such a sort
As there was of louers barrayne of comforte
So that myne eyes coulde not well suffyse
To se theyr straunge fashyons and theyr guyse
Uaryable of tounges, and of so dyuers landes
That amonge a thousand one that there standes
I knewe not, theyr person nor theyr name
Nor yet in hystorye coulde descryue the same
Parseus was one, and fayne I woulde desyre
Howe Andromeda dyd hyr selfe so attyre
That although she blacke were pardie
Borne in Ethiope that whote countrie
This Parseus harte in loue so dyd steare
That as his loue the virgyn dyd he take
And neuer after dyd that mayde forsake
There was also the folysh louer playne
That loued his owne pycter vayne
That therby vnwysely he was brought to death
And after as the hystorye playnly sayth
He was conuerted by the diuine power
Unto a fayre goodly pleasaunt flower
Without for to brynge any frute at all
And by hym emong these louers thrall
Was she that was turned vnto a stone
And now aloude doth aunswer euery one
When she is called with voyce clere
Next vnto this Ecco that dyd appeare
Was yphys that had her selfe in hate
Wyth other dyuers, in a full pyteouse state
Whiche were to longe theyr names for to reherse
Eyther in prose, or elles in ryme or verse
But yet of some I wyll declare and tell
Of Alcione and Ceice that loued so well
That loue they had so ioyned for euer
That nothynge could make them to disseuer
Nowe clepyng now kyssynge, as they dyd flye
Serchynge the kyngedome of Esperye
Now restynge together on a salte stone
And by the Sea theyr nestes to make alone
And I sawe also amonge that great route
As here and there I loked me about
The cruell doughter of kynge Nysus
With flyght she fledde which is maruelouse
With theyr gay golden apples doubtles
She was vanquyshed yea and ouercome
By Hyppomone lo this is all and some
Glad he semed to haue had the vyctory
And amonge the other of this companye
I sawe Atys and Galathea in his lappe
And Poliphemon with greate noyse and clappe
And Glanco shouynge amonge the sorte
Crying for his loue without comforte
Carmenite and Pico, of Italy sometyme kynge
Turne to a byrde, which was a meruelouse thing
There sawe I also Egeria complayne
Because Syllayn was turned certayne
Into a greate harde rocke of stone
Whiche in the sea maketh many to mone
Amonge the other that I haue rehearsed
Was Canase, by hyr father oppressed
In the tone hande a penne dyd she holde
A sworde in the tother, with pale face and colde
Pygmalion was there among the reste
With his wyfe Alyf that he loued best
And amonge these I harde a thousande synge
In Castallia where these Poetes brynge
These louers with them more then I reherse
In prose, in ryme, in metre, and in verse
And at the last Cydippe dyd I see
Scorned with an apple there was she.
The thyrde chapter of the tryumphe of Loue.
So muche was my hearte a marueld of this syghtThat I stode styll as one that had no myght
To speake or looke but to holde hys peace
As desyreous to haue some councell doubtles
When that my frende gentylly to me sayde
Why doest thou muse? Why arte thou dismayde?
Shewe forth a better chere and porte
And se how that I am one of the sorte
That wyll I, nyll I, must folowe the rest.
Brother sayde I, and thou knowest best
Myne entention, and the hote loue I feale
Whiche is so whote that it cannot keale
So that suche busynes doth trauayle my mynde
That what I wolde saye I leaue behynde.
He aunswered and sayde, I do heare it all
And well vnderstande by thy memoriall
Thou wouldest knowe yet what these other be
And I shall shewe thee yf thou wylte heare me
Seest thou yondre great man of honoure
That is Pompeus so great of power
That hath with hym Cornelia the chaste
Complaining of the vyle Tholome the vnstedfast
The tother is the great and myghtie grecian
Alexander the lorde of lordes all
Egystus and Clytemistra see where they stall
And howe by them one may soone fynde
Loue vnconstant waueryng and blynde
More faste loue founde she that standeth by
Ipermistra it is that fayre swete ladye
See also where Piramus doth goo
And with hym Thisbe that he loued soo
That in the derke mette oft together
Leander in the see and Ero at the fenester
And hym that thou doest se so pensyfe and sadde
It is Ulixes that so chaste a wyfe hadde
That dyd longe abyde hys returne from Troy
Howe on Cyres he hath all his ioye
And yonder man that thou doest aduerte
That made all ytaly sore for to smerte
It is Amilcar sonne in very deade
That made all the Romaynes to feare and dread
And althoughe he made yche man to quake
A vyle wench prysoner doth hym take
And yonder woman with the short heare
Loke howe she foloweth here and there
All though she were quene of Ponto
Her husbande whersoeuer he doth goo
As a seruaunte and not as a wyfe
She ledde wyth hym a full harde lyfe
The tother thou seest is Porcia the true
The chastiste wyfe that euer man knewe
Because that yron men dyd her forbyde
The fyre she swallowed tyll she were dede
That she best loued her husband vnfayned
And yet he louide hys second wyfe better
There could to her be no payne greater
Turne thyne eyes on the other syde
And see the olde holy father begylde
And dysdayne not for to take the payne
To serue seuen yeares to haue Rachell agayne
O lyuely loue that with labour doth encrease
See the father of this Iacob neuerthelesse
And the graundefather of Sara take delyght
Thus doth loue wyth his power and myght
After loke howe loue cruell and euyll
Ouercame Dauide and made hym to kyll
His faythfull seruaunt which he repented sore
In a derke place he dyd repentaunce therefore
Alyke mysty cloude pyte to thynke vpon
So verkyd the great wysedome of Salomon
That well neare it quenched hys hygh fame
Se also I praye the among the same
He that louyde and hatyd in a whyle
And it is he that Thamar dyd beguyle
Wherefore she complayned to Absolone
Of hyr mysfortune she made wondre mone
And lytle afore hym see there he went
The stronge Sampson that sore dyd repent
For putting his heade in his loues lappe
Tellyng her hys secretes he hadde hard happe
After beholde amonge swordes and speares
Iudeth that hent hym by the heares
The proude Holiferne vanquished by loue
Whereby she sauyde her citie from reproue
That dyd thys wonders acte at that abrayde
Doest thou not see Sychen afore thine eyes
Emonge the circumcysed people howe he dyes
Scorned in lyke maner as the tother was
Thys was loue that brought hym to that case
Lo where thou mayest see the greate Assuerus
That for to heale hys malady amarouse
Left the tone and toke hym to a sweter
There is no remedy agaynst loue better
Then one nayle to knocke out with a nother
A stronge example this is among the other
But nowe wylt thou see in one tyrantes hart
Loue and crueltie which is a diuers parte
Beholde Herodes howe he doth complayne
Thys myscheuouse tyrante inhumayne
To late repentyd soo doth dyuers mo
The deade ones done, it cannot be vndoo
Maryamne hys loue he calleth and clepeth
And all in vayne wherefore he wepeth
And lo there one may beholde and see
Three fayre swete Dameselles where they be
Pocry and the good gentle Arthemesia
And in there companye there standeth Deidamia
These were not soo good but the other be as yll
That foloweth this loues tryumphe styll
Semiramis and Biblia, and Mirra, the gent
That of theyr vyle loue do soore repente
I am not aduysed theyr offences to name
Therefore I leue it for very pure shame
Nowe foloweth then that fyll bokes wyth lyes
Launslote and Trystram that for Ysode dyes
But specially the fayre gentle Darmino
That made for his loue great complaynte
And she for hym wexed pale and faynte
Thus spake my frende, & I which herkened well
All these hystories that he to me dyd tell
Stode astonied as in dreade and feare
Of hurt to come that hastyth nere and nere
Pale and wane as he that is so taken
Oute of his tombe newe rysen and awaken
When that all sodenly by me there stode
The fayrest yonge mayden of face and mode
That euer I sawe whyter then a doue
Which vnprouided toke me soore in loue
And although that I dyd pretende
By strength agaynst her me to defende
And that I, would resyst in the place
A man of armes in such a soden case
Yet for hyr wordes and with her smyling chere
She bounde me fast and toke me prysoner
And euyn then for trueth in that degree
My frende drue nere and smyling sayde to me
In my nere wysperyng nowe speake thou may
What loue is and all her nyce playe
Nowe mayest thou knowe it as well as I
Both we be spottyd wyth one maladye
I than was one of this great arraye
That more dyd lament the trueth, I saye
Of other mens loue that prosperde well
Then of myne owne doloure of which I tell
And as he that repenteth all to late
Of hurte taken vnwysely allgate
Myne owne death which wyllyngly I take
By loue, by ielozy, by enuye also
Burnynge lyke fyre thus dyd I loue in woo
The fyre was kyndled in that most fayrest face
Euen as a sycke man that an appetyte hase
And desyreth that to hym semeth swete
Yet to this helth it is nothynge mete
Euen so was I vnto all other pleasure
Deaf and blynde, out of all measure
Folowynge hyr by so doubtfull wayes
That it to remember, those tymes and dayes
I tremble and quake when therof I do thynke
More then I can wryte with pen paper and ynke
So that from the tyme that this befell
Myne eyes for moysture semed a well
My harte was pensyfe, my lodginge was in dede
Brokes sprynges, and ryuers, so dyd I lede
My lyfe in busshes, in grouets, and in woodes
Amonge the stones, I sought none other goodes
And to this so many papers whyte
As in hyr prayse I payned to endyte
When after I tore them into peces smal
I was compelled agayne to wryte them all
And all in loues cloystre what is done
I know it well it cannot be vndone
That there is feare, and there is hope also
Who wyll it rede, and take hede thereto
In my forehead there maye ye se it playne
All my sorowe, my doloure, and my payne
And for all this, that wylde ioly dame
That is the causer of all this same
Whether that I flete, I synke, or fall
So is she proude in vertue set so hye
That in hyr selfe she taketh glorye
To haue me so fast hyr seruaunt bounde
That I knowe not howe to heale my wounde
And to this it is a maruelouse thynge
The God of loue this great myghtye kynge
It seemeth of hyr he is soore afearde
When that she lyst to loke hymin the bearde
So that hope doth me so ofte forsake
That loue hym selfe no remedy can make
For when he wyll any thynge with this mayde
She doth not as other do that are afrayde
But as one that is free she goeth in the race
Not bounde, but at lybertie with hyr fayre face
And no wondre for she doth appeare
Emonge the starres as the Sonne cleare
Hyr porte is synguler hyr wordes are maruelous
Hyr heare spred as the golde moost beutiouse
The eyen kyndled with a celestiall lyght
That well content to burne is my delyght
Who can compare with hyr angelyke demure
It passeth my connyng ye maye be sure
As muche as the Sea passeth a lytle broke
For who on good maners doth prye and looke
A newe thynge it is, and not afore seene
Nor after shall not so dulse and sheene
So that all tounges hyr beutye to expresse
Are and shalbe muete doubtelesse
With suche a one am I taken, and with hyr tyde
And she free from all loue on euery syde
Howe is it that I haue no better speade
Day and nyght vpon hyr I do call
But she nothyng bouse to pytie at all
Nor scant will tary to heare what I saye
Alas for pytye well mourne I maye
A harde lawe it is thus to loue be kynde
The waye not ryght, but crooked for to fynde
But yet to folowe it why shulde I saye naye
When that not onely men doth goe that waye
But the Goddes also that be celestiall
Are not free from this payne at all
He that is a louer ful well knowes this
How that the hart from the bodye departed is
How nowe he is in warre, and forthwith in peace
Howe when his loue doth shewe vngentlenes
He wyll not be aknowen, but his malady hyde
Thoughe that it prycke hym both backe and syde
This euell feele I, and yet more there to
When with my loue I haue to do
The bloude for feare renneth to my harte
And streyght abroade in my vaynes doth starte
I knowe also howe hydde vnder the floure
The serpent lyeth the louer to deuoure
How alwayes the louer lyeth in dread and doute
In great suspecte for to be put oute
By another, and so no rest I take
Neyther when I slepe, nor when I wake
I knowe also howe to seke the place
Where my loue is ay wont to passe
And yet I stand in feare hyr to fynde
Althoughe hyr selfe is prynted in my mynde
With louynge and mornynge a great whyle
Folowynge the damesell it is euen so
That wyll burne me folowyng, yet after I go
I knowe moreouer how loue cryes and calles
And wyll not be shytte out with dores nor walles
But puttes by reason, and wyll not go awaye
Tyll he pearce the harte, and all I saye
I knowe also how sone a gentle harte
Is tyed with a small lace and cannot start
When the sences haue the better hande
And reason put by, and wyll not withstande
I knowe to this how that loue doth shote
How he flyes and strykes without geuyng boote
How he threateth and robbeth with forse & might
And thus wronges his seruaūtes against al right
and I am not ignoraūt how vnstable is his whele
The hope doubtfull alwayes for to fele
The doloure sure, his promyse vntrue
Ay desyrous to chaunge for thynges newe
And how to this in the bones doth rest
The hyd fyre that lyeth so opprest
In the louers vaynes, and that with such a woūd
That at the last it bryngeth hym to the ground
In conclusion I know loue so to be
Inconstaunt, waueryng, and fearefull trust me
Hauyng in it a lytle small swetenes
Mengled with extreme payne and bytternes
When he woulde speake, cannot though he would
Sodeyne scilence when his tale should be tolde
A shorte laughynge with complaynt styll & longe
Gall tempred with hony this is the louers songe.
The fourth Chapter of the Tryumphe of Loue.
After that my fortune thus hade me broughteAnd loue soo sore in my hart wroughte
That cut were al my weake sely vaynes
My lybertie gone and I in wofull paynes
I that afore was wylde as any harte
Was made then tame for my parte
As well as all the other that were there
And well knew theyr trauayle and theyr fere
And wyth what wyte, crafte and chaunce
I and they were brought to loues daunce
And then as that I loked all aboute
If I myght spye among that hudge route
Any person of cleare and high name
That by wryting haue eternall fame
I sawe hym that Erudyce dyd call
Apon Pluto the great god infernall
And folowed her as these hystories tell
Downe vnto the depe dongeon of hell
And dying dyd his loue clepe and call
I sawe also euyn among them all
Alceo Macreon and the wyse Pyndarus
That in loue were all thre studiouse
Wyth other excellent poetes in that place
The tone was Ouyde the tother Catullo
Propercius also and eke Tubullo
That of loue wrote many a verse and songe
And with this excellent Poetes amonge
Was a Grecian that with her swete style
Of loue full many a songe dyd fyle
Ay lokyng thus about me here and there
I sawe in a grene fielde with sadde chere
People that of loue reasonyng went
Dant with beatryce fayre and gent
Lo on the tother syde I might also se
Cino of Piscoia wyth hym trust me
Guydo of Rezzo and in that place
Two other Guydos in lyke manner and case
The tone of them was borne in boleyne
The tother was a very ryght Cicelien
Senicio and Francisco so gentle of condicion
And Arnolde and Daniell in lyke facion
A great maker and dyuyser of loue
And dyd great honour to his Citie aboue
There was Peter also the Clerke famouse
And Rambaldo with his stile curiouse
That wrote for his beatryce in mont ferrato
The olde Peter and with hym Geraldo
Filileto that in Marsill bare the name
And the prayse from Geneway by the same
Geffray Rudell that sought his death Alasse
vpon the water as he hym selfe dyd passe
There was also Wilbon at that houre
Passyd many other in his dayes
Among these other that of loue sayes
Was Amerego, Barnardo, Hugo, and Anselme
That in stede of speare, shilde, and helme
Was theyr tounge and theyr fayre speach
The loue of theyr Ladyes to besech
I turned myne eyes from that companye
And streight wyse I dyd there espye
The good Thomaso that gate great prayse
In Boleyne that citie in hys dayse
O fleyng swetenes O paynefull wery lyfe
What chaunce hath taken wyth woo and strife
These my deare fryndes away from me
Why am I not styll in theyr company
Well may I perceaue howe feble and frayle
Is manslyfe all full of trauayle
Well may I say it is none other thing
But as a dreame or a shadowe passyng
Or as a fable that when it is tolde
The wynde and whether doth it holde
Unneth was a lytle past the rule
Of the commen lernars in scole
When fyrste I dyd Socrates workes se
And Lelius howe fayre they dyd agree
Wyth these men I entende styll to goo
Which I haue named hether vnto
As those whose laude no man can well rehearse
Neyther in ryme, in prose, nor yet in verse
Wyth these two and dyuerse other in my dayes
Haue I searched many dyuers wayes
But for alwayes I wyll wyth them abyde
Untyll the houre come that I shall dye
For wyth these two gotten yet haue I
The gloriouse Laurell wherewith my heade
As a garlande all aboute is spredde
In memory of her of which I wryte
Uerses of prayses as I can endyte
But of her which I so much commend
For all my seruyce that I do pretend
I cannot get neyther boughe nor lefe
But payne, heauines, doloure, and grefe
And or I wryte the cause why she doth so
I wyll wryte of the pensyfe woo
That these vnwyse louers haue to loue
The thyng is so farre my wytte aboue
That for great Omer or for wyse Orpheus
It were well mete they shoulde it dyscusse
Then in folowing of my golden penne
I wyll declare howe I and all these men
Folowing this god by Dykes and by Dales
With peynes and busines and with many tales
This chylde vnto his kyngdome came
Where Uenus hys mother was resydent than
But so ouerwhart thyder was the wayes
By busshes and woodes and other brayes
That not one amonge all wyste where he was
Nor howe it was wyth hym nor in what case
There lyeth beyonde Egeo that grete see
A delectable yle to beholde and se
Because the sonne softly doth it warme
The byrdes there full swetely charme
Is there a mountayne fayre ydressed
With fayre flowres, and fayre cleare water
That it taketh awaye all sadde matter
From the hartes of suche as be there
This is the lande to Uenus moost dere
Wherein the olde auncient men
Made to this Uenus a temple then
And yet of vertue it is so barrayne I saye
That as it was, so it is at this daye
In that selfe same place tryumpheth this Lorde
Of vs and other that he doth bynde in corde
Of all nations, from Tyle vnto Inde
Innumerable of all men one maye fynde
This Prynce in token of his great victory
That he hath obteyned of louers so gloriouslye
Caryeth with hym of poore louers the spoyle
To gyue to hys wanton mother in that soyle
Fyrst of all the louers thoughtes in his lappe
He hath with hym fast closed in a trappe
Uanytie embraseth hym, and with hym doth go
Fugytyue pleasure doth folowe hym also
In wynter Roses he caryeth about
In Somer yse, this great God so stoute
Doutefull hope before and behynde
Shorte Ioye, wauerynge and blynde
Penaunce and sorow doth folowe the rest
As in Rome and in Troy, when it was opprest
Thus with a noyse and a huge shoute
Redounded the valleye there all aboute
With a consent of byrdes fayre and swete
And the ryuers that ranne by the strete
Greene, blewe, redde, yalowe and whyte
And euer the Ryuars rynnyng in that place
When that the tyme of greate heate was
Apon the freshe fayre greene flowres
To comforte the herbers and the bowres
Shadowes softe to kepe the sonne away
The wether temperate by nyght and daye
The Sonne nether to hoote nor to colde
Plenty of deynties eate who woulde
And pleasures dyuers to make a symple wytte
Haue an olde feble harte for to vse it
It was about the Equinoctiall lyne than
When the fayre bryght Phebus began
To chase the longe wynter nyghtes awaye
And prougne laughes early afore daye
In that tyme and in that selfe howre
This great God of so hyghe powre
Woulde tryumphe then, and there worshipped be
O our vnstable fortune for to se
We ne coulde but as this God vs leade
Hym to worshyppe, se howe we speade
What death, what sorow, woo and payne
Hath the louer, his purpose to attayne
Nowe for to declare this matter by and by
This Goddes chayre, where that they sat on hye
There was about it errour and dreames
And glosynge ymages of all nations and realmes
False opynion was entrynge the gate
And slypper hope stode by theyr ate
Wery rest, and rest with wo and payne
The more hygher he clam the lesse he dyd obtayn
Nor profitable hurte alwayes in fere
Cleare dishonoure, and glory obscure and darke
False lealtie lefte not there to warke
Nor beguyldynge fayth, nor furious busynes
Nor slowe reason lacked not in the presse
A pryson open, entre who woulde
When he was in gotten oute he ne coulde
Within trouble, confusion, and mysery
A sure sorowe a myrth vncertaynly
Lyppary nor Ischa, nor Uolcan boyls not so
Strongile and Mongebell put therto
As boyled the place where the castell was
And briefly whosoeuer thyther dyd pas
Is there bounde in hote and in colde
In darkenesse euerlastynge in that holde
Holden and tyed and kept by forse
Crying for mercy tyll that he be horse
In this castell syghynge for Sorga and Arno
Was I prysoner many a longe daye so
That by my wytte, I coulde no meanes fynde
Oute for to gette there I was so blynde
One remedye at the leaste there I founde
Whyles that I was in loue thus bounde
My wytte on hyghe thynges was euermore set
To knowe what loue is whiche was so great
That I therby coulde well discerne
What was to be done in suche harme
And thus hauynge great compassion
Of suche that were in loues pryson
My harte relented euen as doth the snowe
Agaynst the hoote Sonne ye may me trowe
To be in so darke a pryson there and then
None otherwyse but as one that doth se
A pycture well made in conformyte
Goeth the foote forwarde it for to espye
And yet loketh backwarde with his eye
So at that tyme I loked all aboute
To consydre this greate companye and route.
The ende of the Tryumphe of Loue.
The excellent Tryumphe of Chastitie.
When that I sawe euyn afore my faceIn one tyme and in one Selfe place
The hyghe god that reigneth aboue
And men mortall subdewede also by loue
By theyr example and by there great fall
Some profyte to my selfe then dyd I call
And some comeforte it was also to me
Euen as other were I for to be
When Phebus a god was taken in that lure
And the yonge Leader a man pure
Both twayne strycken wyth loues darte
And Iuno and Dydo lasyd with that parte
Not that Dydo that men doth wryte
That for Eneas wyth death was dyte
But that noble Lady true and iuste
For Sychen her ioye and hartes luste
I ought not to morne thoughe that vnware
I were taken in loues craftie snare
Being but a very yonge man of age
For to be vanquished wyth such a rage
And yf that my Lady that I loue best
Wyll not with loue in no wyse be opprest
I haue no cause of great mournyng
Forasmuche as I do call to mynde
What hurt by that, that she should fynde
I knowe also that by her reason
She doth so guyde her in eche season
That loue by her is so abatyd
That it doth seme this god is hatyd
Which when that loue dyd playnely se
He was so chafed trust ye well me
That the lyghtnyng that falles from the skye
And beryth downe all euen by and by
Nor the lyon soo woode in his rage
So assayde not that tyme for to assuage
Wyth all his argumentes that he coulde make
This Lady I reason of prysoner to take
Nor she agayne I say for her parte
When that she well and wisely dyd aduert
What Cupyde was aboute wyth her to do
The whurling wind flieth not so faste so
As she agaynst hym wyth vertue went
To let this great god of his intent
What should I say Etna that hyll
That boyleth and burneth euermore still
Maketh not a more terrible soune
When that Enchelado would shake it downe
Nor Sylla nor Carrybdys when angry they be
Then loue assayde you may trust me
To wyne my Lady in suche wyse
When that he sawe hyr loue dyspyse
Eche man there drue hymselfe aparte
The great horrible stryfe for to aduert
To loke to, what ende this should applye
Thys god that the vanquer as is tolde
Of mortall men both of yonge and olde
Toke in his ryght hand Arrowe sharpe and kene
And in the tother a bowe bryght and shene
And drewe it vp this Lady to feare
In great hast and anger vp to his eare
And this dyd he in such great violence
That a Leoparde that maketh pretence
The fugytyfe hart for to cache and take
Coulde not more hasty haste make
Then loue dyd wyth his fyery face
This fayre Lady with craft to compase
I that sawe the maner and the guyse
Was soore moued in double wyse
Pyte ferde me lest that I shoulde se
So swete a Creature vanquished for to be
Desyre agayne would haue be gladde
That I my purpose myght then haue hadde
But vertue that with the good is euer
Shewed at that tyme that he dyd neuer
Forsake hym that hym doth truste
This fayre Lady my hartes luste
When she dyd se the stroke at hande
Was neuer mayster that doth withstand
In the shyppe on the parlouse Rocke to fall
Then she that then and forth with all
Dyd awaye from loues stroke glyde
Wyth such a honestie one euery parte and syde
Which then apperyd in her swete face
That loues fyery darte had there no place
To se whervnto this matter went
Hopyng the vyctorie to me should fall
And that I shulde he hyrse hole and all
As one that hath or he would speake
Wrytten in hys heade and harte eke
What he wolde say euen so do I
Thynke to say euen by and by
My lorde yf that you wynne the fyelde
Bynde me with her for I doo yelde
And let me neuer from her depart
Whyles that the lyfe is in my harte
And yf that vnworthy that I be
To be with this Lady in company
All though for euer in loue I dure
Here styll wyth you do tye me sure
Whyles that I mynded thus for to saye
She loked on me that moste swete may
Wyth such a graue and a wyse sadde chere
That for to speake it I dreade and feare
For I not onely that haue smale wytte
But that man also for to declare it
That had the moste excellent wytte and reason
Should haue marueyled at that tyme & season
For this loues golden and fyery shafte
Euen by it selfe there it fell aparte
Seyng the honestie as I haue here tolde
In my loues breste that then was colde
So that Camilla that fayre ladye gent
That with the lyfte brest to battell went
Nor Cesar in Tessalia agaynst Pompeus
Was nothyng to speake of so Ualerouse
That euery stronge shielde breake it can
Armed was she with all her route
With vertues compassed all about
O what a gloryouse bande there was
That agaynst loue with hyr dyd passe
Twayne and twayne and hande in hande
This noble army together dyd stande
Honestie and shamefastnesse they went before
A great gyfte of God for euermore
That made this Lady for to shewe and shyne
Not lyke no mortall but lyke deuyne
Wyt and sobernes folowed the trace
Well set in hyr harte without arrace
And perseueraunce came with the reste
Whiche kept her honour not to be opprest
Fayre entreatynge was not behynde
Nor clemesse nor curtesy that is so kynde
Purytie of heart and feare of shame
Was there in presence loue to tame
Olde wyse thoughtes in a yonge tender age
And gratiouse concorde all fury to asswage
And beuty lacked not, with a chast clene thoughte
All these agaynst loue my Lady broughte
With the fauoure of heauen that halpe therto
And the blessed holy saynctes ayde also
That vnneth my syght coulde well susteyne
To se suche a company in that playne
There sawe I this felowshyp take the spoyle
A thousande palmes in that great soyle
Awaye from the handes of them that were
Louers in that companye there and there
Had of Scipion the captayne generall
Of the Romaynes when he had obteyned
So many victories so many mayned
Nor the great Golyas was not more abashed
When with the stone his heade was dashed
By Dauid yonge and tendre of age
Nor Cirus more astonied in that rage
When that the wydow the vengeaunce did make
For the death of Hermon, and for hyr loues sake
As was loue whiche stode in the place
Muche lyke after the fashion and case
As he that thynkes hymselfe safe and sounde
And with a pange doth fall to the grounde
Euen so there dyd loue poorely stande
Unto hys eyes puttynge vp his hande
As he that both with angre and feare
Euen with a moment appeared there
And he so chaufed with his aduenture
That the ragyouse Sea ye may be well sure
Nor Mongebello nor yet Enchelydo
Neuer more chaufed then he dyd tho
Thus passed this great company gloryouse
That I dyd se tryumphynge thus
But theyr excellency for to declare
My connynge and my wytte is all to bare
I therfore wyll tourne to my fayre Ladye
And to the rest of hyr chast company
She had this excellent dame victoriouse
A whyte vesture, gaye and gloryouse
The shielde in hande of pure Iasper cleane
That euyll sawe Medusa that Quene
A chayne with a Dyamount therto was fret
And a Thopasion a preciouse stone
Used sometyme and nowe cleane gone
I sawe hyr there euen afore myne eyes
So bynde loue in suche a wonderouse wyse
That it semed vengeaunce I say ynowe
To make hym stoupe, to make hym for to bowe
And I therefore dyd nothynge then repent
What my loue dyd, I was therwith content
What more shulde I nowe saye or wryte
It passeth my connyng, it passeth my myght
The sacred and holy virgins to tell
Caliope and Clio I knowe it well
With the rest of the muses nyne
Shulde lacke eloquence that to defyne
But parte of them of moost hygh honeste
I wyll declare what persons they shulde be
Lucrecia on the ryght hande there she stode
And swete Penolope so mylde of mode
These twayne had broken in pecis small
Loues bowe his dartes, arrowes and all
And pulled his wynges quyte from hys backe
Thus this greate God dyd go to wracke
Uirginea with hir fierce father was there
With swearde in hande and armed clere
That chaunged the state of Rome towne
And raysed vp libertie that was put downe
And after that one myght beholde and se
Of the Germaynes maydens a huge company
That for to saue them from vyllany
Were all contented with good wyll to dye
With the Grekes Lady she was amonge
That leped into the great perylious See
To kepe hyr body from all vyllanye
With these swete sorte I sawe diuers moo
That in this tryumphe forth dyd goo
Tryumphynge of Loue that tryumphed before
Yet amonge other there sawe I more
The meke vyrgyn of Uesca there she was
That proued hyr chastitie by suche a case
She bare fayre water in a large Seue
Wherby she voyded all and yll repreue
Hersilia also passed with that route
Wyth all hir Sabyns that stode there aboute
And emong these other fayre Ladyes free
I sawe hyr of muche hyghe state and degree
That for hyr husbande was content to dye
And not for Eneas so affyrme I
Let the vulgar people then holde theyr peace
It is that Dydo that I do here rehearse
That honest loue broughte vnto an ende
And not vayne wanton loue that dyd her offende
At the last I dyd se one of that lande
Where as the large ryuer of Arno doth stande
Closed hyr selfe vp in a secrete place
To kepe hyr vyrgynitie, but woo alas alas
Hyr fayre thought by force it was lette
There emonge other I sawe her sette
This excellent tryumphe whereof I wryte
Went with great glory euenforth ryght
To Baia the seasone all softe and fayre
To the place sometyme that Sibilla dyd repayre
And from thens passyng by the same
Streyght to Linterna that castell they went
In that smale citie where it is bent
Dwellyd that vallyaunt Romayne than
That was surnamed Scipion the Affrican
There the tone salutyd gently the tother
And euermore among the one and the other
Not she that was fayrest but chastyst and beste
Was most honored among all the rest
It pleased then this Romayne for to goo
Among the other there in ordre also
Unto the temple that Sulpicia made
Where all the hole flame that loue hade
They quenched it out and from thense all went
Unto that fayre temple wyth good entent
Of honorable chastitie so is the ryght name
Because there appertayneth vnto the same
To kyndle good wyll in a gentle harte
Specially to noblenes that thereto doth aduert
In that holy temple there offered this Lady
The gloriouse spoyle of her high victorye
And leues of the Laurell tre there dyd she spred
Of hyr freshe garlande aboute her fayre hed
There the younge louer the Toscan left asyde
The wounde that was both large and syde
That loue had geuen hym and all because
To fle the suspect to folowe loues lawes
Where as was with hym dyuerse other mo
The gentle and faythfull true Ypolito
And Iosephe the Ebrue honest and iuste
That vanquisshed loue and all his foule luste
The Tryumphe of the excellente Poete Fraunces Petrarcha, of fearful death mooste elegantlye wrytten, ye that reade it, remember it.
[The first chapter.]
This most noble and mooste gloryouse LadyeThat nowe is a spirite & in the earth doth lye
And somtyme was the hygh pyller of valour
Turned from hyr warre with laude and honour
Gladde to haue ouercomen an enemy so great
That with his wyt turneth all men vnder feet
With none other armour she dyd this deade
But with a chast hart at the tyme of nede
With a swete face and with a clene thoughte
And with an honest speche this hath she wrought
It was a newe wondre for to beholde and se
Loue to be ouercome in suche wyse and degre
Hys bowe broken his arrowes cast asyde
That slayne had so many men of pryde
And taken prysoners infinite of men
This noble Lady with hyr company then
Turned (as sayde is) from that hygh victory
All together going vnder a fayre canapye
There was but fewe no meruayl at all
Uertuous glory is rath and euer shall
Eche one by them selues it is a playne case
Semed well worthy of laude to reherse
Of Poete or Oratour in prose or verse,
Hyr vyctoriouse standerde was this
In a greene felde a whyte armyne is
With a chayne of golde about his necke
A fayre Topazion therto dyd it decke
Nothynge after mortall mens rate
Was nether theyr speche nor yet theyr gate
But all deuyne for to beholde and se
Happy are those that haue suche destanye
They semed all fayre bryght starres
The Sonne in the myddes that not debarres
The lyght away, but geueth them lyght
Hauynge on theyr fayre heades on hyght
Rose garlandes and vyolets fresh and gay
And as a louynge gentle hart alwaye
Getreth honour for his vertuouse lyfe
So past this company without debate or stryfe
When that all sodenly there dyd appeare
A sadde blacke baner that approched nere
And a woman wrapped all in blacke
With suche a fury and with suche a wracke.
That vnneth I cannot the truth tell
In the tyme of the great myghty gyauntes fell
Were any so lothesome for to beholde and see
Unto this Lady so gastly moued he
And sayde O swete and excellent mayde
That goest here moost perfytely arayde
With youth and beautye and doste not se
The terme that I shall present arrest the
Callyd death fearefull that doth arrest
All creatures wyth my greate force and myght
Or the daye ende makyng it the nyght
It is I that hath quite and cleane wastyd
The great grekes nation and also hastyd
The noble Troyans vnto theyr declyne
And last of all hath made to ende and fyne
The Romaynes glory wyth this blade kene
That prycketh and cutteth all away cleane
And infinite of other barbarouse nations
Using euermore these wayes and facions
When that they loke not for me at all
Wyth sodeyne stroke I make them downe to fall
A thousand thoughtes of men frayle and vayne
I haue broken this is true and certayne
And nowe to you when lyfe semeth best
Here am I comen your body to arrest
Or any harde fortune to you chaunce to fall
I wyll you take and ende not one but all
This excellent Lady hauing no peare
In al the worlde wyth sad and wise chere
Aunswered vnto death there present agayne
In these chast companyes this is true & playne
Thou hast no reason nor yet noo power
And lesse of all other in me at this houre
Onely the spoyle that thou shalt haue
It is my chast body vnto the graue
That well knoweth one as well as I
That take well my death most heauely
Hys lyfe on my health all doth depende
But vnto the this is thy small ende
To departe the frayle worlde lo this is all
This cruell beast with hyr wyse reason
Was no lesse marueld at that tyme and season
Than one that doth a thynge in soden haste
And when the dede is so done and paste
Doth blame hym selfe of that that he hath done
Euen so dyd this terrible monster soone
And when he had hym selfe paused a whyle
With a more softe speache, and gentle style
Thou (sayes he) that present here doest guyde
This fayre chast bande on euery syde
That hast not yet my fearefull stroke assayde
By my councell be not so sore afrayde
For that I wyll nowe do is for the best
To make the fle (O mayde) from age opprest
Whiche hath alwayes longynge thervnto
Muche grief and dolour with payne & longe wo
And to this nowe present, disposed I am
Thou fayre creature and swete woman
To do the suche honor present in this place
That thy spirite shall from the body passe
Without feare, dolour, or grief at all
Be of good comfort O mayde, I haue sayde all
This Angelyke creature when she had harde
What death had sayde, agayne aunswerd
As it pleaseth Christ our Lorde almyghtye
That ruleth and tempereth all thynges eternally
Do thou vnto her as thou doest to all men
Thus this fayre Lady aunswered there and then
And lo euen there present all sodenly
Full of dead bodyes theyr great place dyd lye
It cannot be countyd in prose nor yet in verse
Of Cateya of Marow of Spayne and Inde
Innumerable deade of all mankynde
There were those that men happy dyd call
Kynges Emperours and Bysshoppes all
Now be they poore as poore as beggers be
Where is there ryches & honour trowe ye
Theyr scepters theyr crownes wt theyr preciouse stones
Theyr myters of purple dected for the noones
Gone is all theyr glory and theyr freshe luste
A foole is he that to such thinges doth truste
But those that wyll nedes hope thervnto
At length shall se the matter to be so
Themselues vtterly scornyd and beguyled
When all theyr fancys shalbe quyte exiled
O blynde fooles euen worse then madde
For all the pleasures and ioyse ye haue hadde
To your olde mother ye muste nedes passe
And your names forgotten and turned to was
What profyte hath it then bene vnto you
Wyth swerde and blode strong nacions to subdue
To mucke vp treasure and your soules to defyle
It had bene better to haue lyued a whyle
Porely in thys world with browē bread & water
But nowe wyll I returne agayne to my matter
I say than whan the extreme houre was come
Of thys fayre Lady this is all and some
And that she must the doubtfull passe assay
That puttes all the worlde in dreade and fraye
There came to se her of women many one
To knowe and se or that the lyfe were gone
Both fryndes and Neybors diuers on eche syde
And lo as they her great beautie dyd beholde
Death dissolued the fayre here of golde
And so the fayrest flower that euer was
He dyd roote vp Alas I say Alas
Not for no hate that he to her then hadde
But in heauen for to make her spirite gladde
O howe many complayntes and bewaylinges
Syghes and teares and other lamentinges
Were there than among the women all
When that, that fayre bryght eyes celestiall
For which many a swete songe I made
Many a sonete many a freshe balade
Were closed and shot vp Alas O wo is me
This fayre Creature what trowe ye then did she
Syt styll and glade in quiete and pease
And gether the fructe of her vertuousnesse
Go thy wayes O deare godes well content
In peace and quiet with all thy vertues excellent
But litle it auayled agaynst deathes myght
Then if he haue agaynst such a one ryght
What shall it be trowe ye of the reste
O humayne hope with al mysery opprest
In a fewe myghtes so swete a mayde
Goone and past in so short a brayde
So many teares for her death sprede
Thou that seste it or heryst it redde
Thinke what it is the worlde for to truste
When such a creature is turned vnto dust
It was for truth the sixe day of Apryll
That loue to loue hyr dyd me compell
Death dyd take my loue and ioye awaye
And nowe as fortune is wont for to chaunge
Hath broken the knot and eke the raunge
With suche sorowe vnto my wofull harte
That I am afrayde I saye, as for my parte
To tell it ether in verse or in ryme
It was to me so sorowfull a tyme
Uertue sayde they that were present there
Excellent beutye and moost womanly chere
Nowe is deade and gone what shall we be
When she is past the death as we do se
Where shall hyr peere or lyke be seene agayne
So great perfection in one for to remayne
So swete a speache so Angelyke a voyce
This aboue all other was the choyce
And the spyryt when it shulde depart
As they myght se and perfytly aduerte
With all other vertues gathered in one
Where as it went the ayre moost bryghtly shone
None euyll aduersary was so hardy there
Afore hyr presence to stande or appeare
With foule semblaunt to put hyr in dread
Tyll death his assaute had done in dede
But after that when all the feare was past
And by disperation they sure at the last
Eche one dyd beholde that moost swete face
How preciouse it was, how full of grace
Not dyssolued with no vyolent payne
But passynge awaye with an easy vayne
Euen as a swete lyght that commeth to decay
Lytle and lytle consumynge awaye
The flame extincte then lyght is there none
Not pale she laye but whyter then the snow
That the wynde agaynst the hyl doth blowe
As he that wery is, and woulde haue rest
So she laye when death had hyr oppreste
And as one that slepeth softe and quietlye
So myght they all then and there espye
Dreadful death that fooles haue in disgrace
Fayre and beutifull in that swetest face.
The seconde Chapter of the Tryumphe of death.
The nyghte folowynge yt this horrible chaūceFell, to my hartes ioye & pleasaunce
That made in maner the sone lese his lyght
And from ye erth toke also all delyght
And the fayre flowre in heauen on hygh set
My guyde gone and I with sorowe fret
And blynde lefte from al ioye and pleasure
The swete softe season pleasaunt be ye sure
With the colde that spredde was in the ayre
Afore Aurora moste delicate and fayre
All vntrue and fayned false dreames
Euen at that tyme to me dyd appeare
Semblaunt to that season a mayde fayre & cleare
Crowned with ryche orient pearles whyte
And for to encrease the more my delyght
Hyr fayre hande stretche forth then dyd she
And softely syghyng gently spake to me
Doest thou not knowe me sayth she me tell
Hyr that sometyme thou dyddest loue so well
Of whome thy harte was all set on fyre
And made the forsake all foule and vyle desyre
Thus sayinge with a sadde sobre countenaunce
She sat her downe my ioye and my pleasaunce
And made me syt by hyr euen there
Apon a bancke me thought we twayne were
Whiche was shadowed with the Lawrell tree
A greate beche therby well myght I see
And I so set muche lyke in suche a case
As he that speaketh and wepeth a great pace
Soo dyd I aunswer vnto this Lady deare
O thou fayre creature without to haue a peare
Howe shoulde it be that I the shoulde forgette
Sythyns that euer my hart on the was set
Arte thou alyue or deade I longe to knowe
I am alyue sayes she thou mayst me trowe
And thou arte deade and soo styll shalbe
Tyll that the last houre that taketh the
From the earth, now marke wel what I saye
The tyme is shorte, and oure wyll alwaye
Is longe, and therefore I the rede
What thou wylt saye that it be sayde with spede
Make thou shalt not here no longer stande
Then sayde I O Lady swete and pereles
That hast proued I se it doubtles
What lyfe and death are both certayne
Tel me yf death be so great a payne
She aunswered forthwith and to me sayde
Mens blynde opinion makes it to be frayde
But for to tell the what it is in deade
Death is dissoluynge of all doubte and dread
And cleane delyuers vs from a pryson darke
Specially to hym that gently doth warke
But vnto hym that hath done amys
And all on couetousnesse his harte set is
It is a payne and doloure infinite
But I that from that am free and quyte
For this death whiche I dyd assaye
For whiche thou hast mourned to this daye
Woulde make the mery and all thy soores heale
If halfe the ioye thou haddest that I do feale
Thus spake she, and hyr celestyall eyes
Deuoutly she lyfte vp vnto the skyes
And that rodye lyppes more swete then rose
She helde them styll tyll I dyd purpose
Silla, Nero, Cayus, and Maryus
With these tyrauntes put Maxentius
Syckenes in the brest and in the flanckes
Payne of burnyng, feuers and cranckes
Makes the death more bytter then gall
She aunswered me then forthwith all
I cannot (sayes she) for truth denye
But that the payne moost certaynlye
Is wonder greuouse this is all and some
But that which greuith most of all
Is the feare of losse of the lyfe eternall
But the spirite that comfortes hym in good
And with his harte doth dread his rodde
Unto hym I say what is the death
But euen a syght and a short stopping breath
This by my selfe dyd I well knowe and se
At the laste houre when death dyd take me
The body was sycke but the soule was well
When that I harde one by me there tell
O howe wreched and miserable is he
That compteth the dayes of the infenyte
That Laura is in and thinketh euery day
A thousand dayes I dare ryght wel say
Her excelente person to se and to beholde
And neuer after se, his comfort should
Sekes for her the water and the lande
And neuer for her in quyete doth stande
But alwayes folowinge one maner of style
Howe that he may in euery tyme and whyle
On her to thynke on her with penne to wryte
On her to speake on hye for to endyte
This heryng casting myne eyes asyde
Hyr amonge the other there I espyde
That often moued me, the for to loue
And kyndled in thy hart farre aboue
The loue I bare alwayes vnto the
I knowe her well that it was very she
That much comfortyd me or I dyed
With her wise wordes on euery syde
In my best tyme, and in that honest case
In youth but tendre, and vnto the moost dere
Whiche made many and dyuers here and there
To speake both and ofte of the and me
The lyfe wherein thou sawest me for to be
Was but bytter I sweare nowe on my fayth
To the respecte of my most pleasaunt death
Whiche to men mortall is very rare
So that when my lyfe awaye dyd fare
Euen at that poynt I was moost mery and glad
Sauynge that of the great pytie I hadde
To departe this worlde trust thou me
As one in exyle his owne countre to se
Then sayde I to hyr euen there agayne
On the fayth Madame whiche you are certayne
That I ought you without for to chaunge
Tell me nowe and be not to me straunge
For you knowe all seynge that gloryous syght
Aboue oure knowledge the eternall light
Had you euer pitie in your harte
Of my greate sorowes, and paynes smarte
Not leauynge aparte your hygh chast wayes
Whiche that you vsed with me alwayes
Nowe shewynge to me a swete dysdayne
Nowe a swete angre to double my payne
Nowe shewynge a peax wrytten in your eyes
That hylde me so tyed and in suche wyse
That doubtfull I was in what case I stoode
Many yeares thus I in loue abode
Scant had I these wordes to hyr sayde
When that I sawe euen at a brayde
That somtyme was my ioye and plesaunce
My comforte, my lust, and my reioysinge
In this wise to me moste graciouse speking
From the my hart was neuer deuyded
Nor neuer shall but that I prouided
Dyuers tymes with my wyse regard
I tempered thy loue yt well neer thou had marde
Because there was as than none other way
Oure feruent loue with honest for to stay
Therefore in lyke case as thou sest a mother
Correcte her deare chylde for no nother
But all to brynge her to good frame
Euen so dyd I then vse the same
And sayde to my selfe full many a season
This man not louys but burnes out of reason
Wherefore it behoueth me for to prouyde
In this hard daungerouse case on euery syde
And surely full euyll prouydeth he
That loketh outwarde and doth not se
What is inwarde in such a peryllous case
This in my pitefull harte toke then place
And thys to the as a brydell was than
As thou seest by a horse reuled by a man
Wherefore somtime I shewed me wonders glade
Somtyme agayne to be as sober and sadde
And yet I loued as hoote and true as you
Allwayes sauing the chosen honest dowe
Which soo my will than and euer opprest
That reason reulde my desyre at the lest
And when that agayne I dyd beholde and se
Thy sorowe to greuouse and paynefull for to be
Thy helth and welfayre agayne for to gett
Thys was euer my wise honest wayes
That I honestly vsed with the in those dayes
And when I sawe the teres droppyng auayle
Downe thy pale chekes lyke vnto the hayle
Then I dyd pray and softly then I sayde
Here it is necessarye I geue anone an ayde
And when that thou were forthwith agayne
Into to much hope my loue for to attayne
Anone vnto my selfe euen thus sayde I
Here of necessitie must be had a remedye
A harde and strayt byt I muste nowe put to
Thus with dyuers colours many mo
Wyth hoote with grene with golde with white
I kepte the alwayes styll in honest plyte
Thou knowest this well and hast it tolde
And in many a swete sonet it enrolde
When she had sayde these wordes to me playne
With tremblyng voyce I sayd to her agayne
Your wordes to me should be passyng swete
For the greate loue and most feruant hete
That I haue euer borne my ioy to you
If I beleuyde them faythfully to be true
O vnfaythfull man then answered she
Why shoulde I say these wordes vnto the
If that my wordes were not true and iuste
Nowe then I tell the disclose my hart I muste
If in this world lyuing to my sight
I toke in the luste pleasure and delight
I kept it secret where thou I say agayne
Thy loue to all men dydest make it playne
But that my true loue was ioyned all
In moost honest wyse so for to be
But nowe one thynge I wyll demaunde of the
When that thy swete balettes I dyd synge
Dyddest thou then doubte of me in any thynge?
I thynke playnly nay and therfore thus
Though for a tyme I was contrarius
By louynge straunge and semyng so to be
A thousande tymes thou mayst trust me
With my thoughte alwayes so I farde
Thou haddest of me an inwarde swete regarde
And more thy mynde at that tyme to appease
I wyl tell the that thynge that shal the please
It greueth me sore that I was not borne
By thy fayre citie I saye to the therforne
Althoughe my countre full pleasaunt be
I woulde my nest had ben nere to the
Lest that percase thy mynde shulde chaunge
And loue some other amonge so great a raunge
To these wordes no worde then I sayd
The thyrde celestial speare had so arrayde
And lyfte in loue so sore my louynge thought
That aunswer hyr at that tyme coulde I nought
Then she to me with a benigne loue and chere
I haue in this world by the great honour here
And shal haue alwaye marke wel what I shal say
The nyght is past now commeth the bryght daye
Yf that to me thou wylt more saye swete hart
Be short I byd the for I must hence departe
O sayde I, myne owne swete Lady dere
For al the sorowe and payne I haue had here
Doth recompence my loue and makes all mete
But from you thus for to be seperate playne
Is vnto me a deadly mortall payne
But one thynge nowe to me you must declare
Or that ye from my wofull presence fare
Shall I lyue longe tell me after you
Or shortly as I woulde O Lady you ensue
She aunswered gently as farre as she coulde tell
Longe after hyr on earth here should I dwell
The ende of the Tryumphe of Death.
The excellent Tryumphe of Fame.
[The first chapter.]
After that deathe had triumphed in that faceWhich often of me had tryumphed in lyke case
And that the sonne of our world was dead and past
This ougly and dispytefull beaste at the last
Pale and horrible and proude for to se
With hyr blacke baner awaye goeth she
When that she had extincte out quyte
Of perfyt beutye the very clere lyght
Then as I dyd loke about on euery part
Commyng towardes me there I dyd aduert
Hyr that mans lyfe for euer doth saue
And pulleth hym out alyue from his graue
This gloryous fayre Lady muche lyke was she
Unto that bryght starre that goeth trust me
In the orient or the cleare day appeare
Euen in lyke maner was this Ladyes chere
So that there is no mayster in no Scole
Can take vpon them to descrybe that Sole
That I go aboute with symple wordes to tell
So muche great in glory ths Lady dyd excell
That all the element about her dyd shyne
Not as a mortall but lyke a thyng deuyne
Of the honorable people whose hyghe fames
By valure and vertue can neuer dye
Folowynge this noble fame there sawe I
Many of those of whyche I tofore haue rehersed
That by loue (as sayd is) were sore oppressed
On her ryght hand there fyrst in my syght
Was Cesar and Scipion that honorable knyghte
But which of them twayne next to fame was
I do not remember but there they both dyd pas
The tone in vertue the tother in loue
Was taken though he semed somewhat aboue
And then forthwith was shewed vnto me
After these twayne captaynes that so excellent be
Men of hyghe valure armed full bryght
As vnto the capitall they went full ryghte
By that selfe waye that sacra called was
Or by via lata wherevnto they dyd passe
They came in suche an honest ordre as I saye
And had wrytten and graued this is no nay
Theyr excellent names in theyr foreheads on hie
And euen as I behelde them thus attentyfely
Their maner, their port, their chere & eueri thing
To these twayne most hyest in ordre folowyng
Ensued the tone his neuew to hym dere
The tother his sonne that neuer yet had pere
And those that thou seest with the swerd in ye hād
The twayn fathers & the sonnes that by him stād
Agaynst these enemies that Italy dyd inuade
Armed in bryght stele they no dreade hadde
Two there folowed fyrst, and twayne after past
But he that in ordre was semyng to be laste
And after these of excellent and renoumed name
Euen as the Ruby most oriently doth shyne
Went he with his hand and with his councel fyne
It was Claudius that with his wyse foresyght
As a'swyft byrde that taketh his flyght
So dyd he go to the fielde at Metaurus
And pulled vp the wede, this knyght gloryouse
He had eyes and tymes conuenient for to spy
And wynges as a byrde to execute it by and by
There folowed then after in that worthy race
The great old captayne that let not to byd bace
Unto the fierce captayne Hannibal and thervnto
Adioyned vnto hym was another Fabio
Twayne named Catones with these also went
And two noble Paulus wyse to all intent
Two Brutus and also twayne Marcellus
And one renowmed worthy captayne Regulus
That more truly layde Rome then I saye that he
Loued his owne selfe excedyng in degree
There was there also Curio and Fabricius
That with theyr wyse pouertie maruelouse
Were more prayse worthy then myde was
Or Crassus with all the great golde that he has
For golde made them vertue to expell
And pouertye these twayne in glory to excell
There folowed these twayne euen syde by syde
Cincinato to whom the Romaynes cryed
For helpe in theyr extreme daunger and nede
He was equall to the tother twayne in dede
Camillus ensued the noble valyaunt knyght
That had liuer dye for the maintenaunce of right
The fauour of heauen brought hym to Rome thā
Where enuy had banyshed hym from the towne
Home to his countrye this knight of high renoun
There was also the vallyaunt & fresh Torquatus
That slewe his owne welbeloued son Cheualerus
Rather then he would knyghtly ordre breake
He would be childles thus the olde stories speake
Both the twayne Decius were also in the place
That theyr cruell enemies cleane for to deface
Uowed them selfes alas, and that willingly
O cruell vowe them selfes forth with to dye
No lesse dyd he the vallyaunt hardy Curio
That entred vnto the great large hole so
That horrybly was opened in Rome ye riall towē
Wyllyngly hymselfe therein he entred downe
Munnio Lenio went also in ordre there
And the good noble Attivio with a manly chere
Titus Flamius that the grekes dyd subdue
Most with gentle pytie there dyd he ensue
There was also there in the presse he that made
A great large circle in Syria with hys rode
And with his hardy and ferse loke & coūtenaunce
To his wyll & intent so was this romaines chaūce
He the great and pussaunt kyng so constrayned
That all his hole request thereby he obteyned
And by hym in good ordre ther was also he
That kept as he was armed most valliauntly
The hyll from his cruell enymies all
And after in that same place hym selfe had a fall
And with this company was ye most valiaunt man
That kept the brydge from all Toscan
Stode that ferse warrear that in great dispyte
Burnte hys ryght hand because he fayled
To sley the king his enemie which he thē assayled
Euen in the mides of all his noble men
Thys was a merueylouse hardy dede there & thē
And I sawe also there in the hugh prese
He that fyrst vanquished on the great Seese
The Cathagines and scatred all abroade
By Cycell and Sardinia by euyll chanse al ye rode
I sawe among the others him with ye graue sight
Called Appius that with his forse and myght
Kept the men vulgar people in great dread & awe
So strayt and hard he bound pore men to a lawe
And after as all about I dyd cast myne eye
I dyd that person among other rest espye
That with his swete facyons vsyd hym soo
That next the fyrst in fame he myght goo
But that the ende turnyd vnto blame
Wherefore I may ryght well affirme the same
That often it is sene a long prolonged lyfe
Turneth good renowne into payne and stryfe
And certenly he was no lesse in fame and myght
But as Bacus and great Alcides by ryght
Or as to Thebus the good Impammunda was
Among the other nobly he dyd there pas
And after this great and worthy myghty man
I sawe folowing among the other than
Hym that in his yonge flowryng age
Had great lawde and prayse for his vassalage
And euen asmuch as thys ferse champion
Was terrible and cruell in his naturall regyon
I know noo Duke to be more commendable
There went in ordre after by and by
He that wyth hys wysedome sapiently
The noble volumines he was there in the prese
Hys lawde is praysed and shall neuer sease
Cosso was there Philon and Rutilio
And the hardy captayne Lucio Dentato
With Marco, Sergio and Sceua the bolde
In armys as lyghtnyng one myght them behold
Their harnes brokē their shelde in twenty places
Persyde thorowe with swordes dartes & mases
The last of them that there was in dede
With no lytle fame the rest dyd succede
And after these noble men afore rehearsed
Dyd folowe ferse Marius which reuersyd
Ingurta of Numedy the myghty kyng
And the Cymbers that with them dyd brynge
The Almaynes in fury and in rage
Thys Marius dyd their great myght asswage
There went by the Marius by and by
Fuluius Faccus that with witty polecy
Destroyed those that at Rome dyd rebell
But he that folowed dyd farre passyng exell
It was Fuluio so was his very name
Well worthy among other to folowe fame
There was also one Romayne named Graccus
yt had among ye people much matter contrariouse
To his ruyne at the last in Rome towne
There was he thys knyght of high renowne
And he also that much fortunate semyde
Though by me he cannot so be demyde
The two worthy Marcelles in ordre than
That kept all close in theyr hartes I say
Theyr secretes they went aboute alway
These two had great prayse in Numyddia
In Macedon also and in the Yle of Creta
And in lyke maner in the Realme of Spayne
Three vallyaunt famouse Knyghtes for certayne
And I sawe also euen at that tyde
The good Uaspacian and by his famouse syde
His eldest sonne but not his cruell brother
He was not worthy to be amonge the other
And so folowed after in good ordre than
Narua the auncient and gentle Traian
Helio and Adrian and the mercifull Antonius
With fayre succession vnto Macronius
That were no more couetouse of croune imperial
Then desirous for to lyue in vertuous naturall
And whiles that I thus loked all aboute
I sawe fyue Kynges amonges that rowte
The syxte an euyll happe dyd hym take
As one that foloweth vice & vertue doth forsake
The seconde Chapiter of Fame.
Full of greate and infynyte maruayleI stode beholding these noble Romaynes well
Whiche of al other hadde neuer no peere
And as I reuolued their famous actes cleere
Whiche I haue sene in bookes wrytten and tolde
More was there of them dyuers and manyfolde
Then I haue here in this place set in by name
Therfore I nowe for this tyme passe the same
To loke vpon straungers vertuous and excellēt
The fyrst was Hannybal that in ordre went
The next was he that syngyng made his men
To haue the vyctory, and there folowed then
Achylles the Greke, that in his hauynge dayes
Gate by his prowes a great laude and prayse
Twayne noble worthy Troyans were there also
And twayne hardy Persiens in ordre ther did go
Philip of Macedon, and his sonne Alexander
That dyd bryng downe ye Persiens great power
Unto subiection, as in olde bookes we fynde
And conquered thervnto al the regyon of Inde
After noble fame they passed in that place
And another named Alexander folowed a pace
But O fortune howe doest thou euermore
Dyuyde those that in the put theyr truste
From true honoure thou arte so vniuste
There ensued in ordre there by and by
The gloryouse captayne valyaunt and worthy
Of Thebes that ryall Citie of hygh renowne
There was also he that had the famous crowne
And twayne Achilles, and the wyse Ulixes
And the hardy valiaunt greke Dyomedes
Nestor the sage that lyued so many yeares
There was the olde kynge amonge his peeres
Agamenon the great and the kynge Menelaus
That both his two wyues to to vngracious
Muche hurt vnto the hole worlde dyd they
Folowed hardy Leonydes that purposed I saye
To his men a harde dyner, but hardyest of all
Was the supper whereto he dyd them call
With a fewe men he dyd a meruelouse dede
Amonge the other there this captayne yede
There was also the fayre knyght Alcibiades
That dyd straunge & great wonders in Athenes
With his fayre eloquent speche and fayre face
Amonge the rest he was there in that place
Melciedes was next that made all Grece free
His sonne folowed the example of pytye
That alyue and dead his father dyd ensue
And among the other in preace there I knewe
The nustoctes and the valyaunt Theseus
Arystides and the good faythfull Fabricius
Whiche theyr vnkynde countrey I do saye
Woulde not suffre theyr bodyes to lye in claye
So to reward them for theyr well doynge mede
The good Phocion folowed whom I did regard
For his good dedes they gaue hym lyke rewarde
And as I turned here and there my syght
I sawe Pyrrus that noble warlyke knyght
And the good gentle kynge Masinises
That semed angry because that doubtles
Amonge the Romaynes that he was not set
With hym I knewe Iero of Syracuse the greate
And cruell Amylcar deuyded from these twayne
It was he that yssued from the fyre and rayne
A manyfest token that nether helme nor shielde
Agaynst false fortune can neuer wynne the fyelde
There was Sciphas much after that rate & sorte
and Brennius for all his great pryde and porte
That was cast downe by Apollos temple syde
after the other in ordre there he hyde
In dyuers straunge garmentes and araye
Went this tryumphe onwarde on theyr waye
And I that chaunced to cast my loke asyde
I sawe a great huge number go and ryde
amonge them one that would Gods temple make
and he fyrst began it for his loue and sake
This was the fyrst I saye in all that rowte
But he that fynyshed that worke out of doubte
That holy buyldyng of whiche that I do meane
Was not inwarde so vertuouse nor so cleane
as the fyrst good kynge wheron I do saye
Nowe he that folowed him in that greate arraye
Was he that spake to God face to face
There was few or none that euer had such grace
Came he that stayde the Sonne so wonderly
Tyll he his enemies had taken and slayne
O gentle trust most sure and certayne
In seruynge God as dyd this noble knyght
With symple worde to stay the heauenly lyght,
I sawe after hym where that there went
Our olde father whiche for good entent
God badde he shoulde his lande forsake
And he for that shoulde possesse and take
The place that was helthfull to all mankynde
Electe of God there dyd he that countre fynde
Folowed after this father his sonne moost dere
And his welbeloued neuew also he was there
Whiche had the yoke in hauynge wyues two
There was with hym the chast Ioseph also
That from his father went full many a daye
Thus here and there castynge myne eyes alwaye
I sawe the iuste and good kynge Ezechias
And Sampson that so stronge and myghtye was
And not farre distaunt from hym there went he
That made the great wonderfull shyppe of Noe
And he also that the great hygh towre began
Charged with synne and with errour than
The good valyaunt Iudas that noble knyght
He there folowed after in ordre ryght
That would not his holy godly lawe forsake
Alas he for Iustice the death dyd take
My desyre with seyng all these noble men
Was well nere fully satisfyed there and then
When that sodenly I dyd there espye
Of worthy ladyes a more gorgeous company
As all the syght that I had sene before
There sawe I goyng together in a bande
Antiope and Arithia well armyd stand
And fayre swete Ipolita sory and sadde
Because that no comforth of her sonne she had
And Manylipe that vanquished Hercules
And her Suster also was there in prese
The tone Hercules toke vnto hys wyfe
The tother with Theseus led her lyfe
There folowed the hardy wydowe that dyd se
Hyr dere sone slayne most constantly
And reuenged hys death vpon kyng Cyrus
It was a noble hardy acte and valerouse
She abatyd therby so his gloriouse fame
That wel nere it blotted his dedes & eke his name
There was also she her selfe that lost her ioye
By great mysfortune comming vnto Troye
And among other that bolde Lady of Italye
That domagid bi armes the Troiās maruelously
And euen by her went that hardy Lady
That halfe her fayre here bounde vp curiously
And let the tother for to hange besyde
Tyll she abatyd the babilonicall pryde
Cleopatra that was burnte with loues fyre
There she was with all her hote desire
And among the thickest of the prese
Was Xenobia which was doutelesse
Wondre fayre and swete for to beholde
Soo much of hardines her high harte dyd holde
That with her helme of stele on her hedde
She put in daunger in feare and eke in dreade
Tyll fortune vnkynde dyd thrawe her downe
That at the last she was made I saye
Unto the Romaynes a great huge pray
And albeit that I do here forgete
Both men and women that wer highe and great
Yet the chast Iudeth wyll I call to mynde
That slewe dronken Holyferne in loue blynde
And dronken as he lay routing in his bedde
Wyth hys owne sworde she smote of his hedd
But alas why do I present her forget
That noble gentelman among the rest to sett
Which pride brought from his trone doūe opprest
To lyue seuen yeares as a brutyshe beste
Or why do I not remember in this place
Zorastro that the fyrst Inuentor was
Of arte magyke of Errour the ground
Or why art not thys twayne here founde
That passyd Euphrates and put Italye to sorow
Or Metridates that both euen and morowe
To the Romaynes was ennemie perpetuall
And wynter and somer fled ouer all
Great thynges in fewe wordes I do tell
Where is kyng Arthur that dyd excell
And the thre Cesares surnamed Augustus
One was of Aufryke a Prynce gloriouse
The tother he was of the Regyone of Spayne
And the thyrde of the country of Lorrayne
But setting this nobles for a whyle a syde
The good Godfrey after fame faste hyde
Surnamed Bulleyne that toke with his hand
Iherusalem the Cytie and eke the holy lande
Wherfore ryght well I may saye thus
Go ye proude and wreched christen men
And consume the tone the tother then
And care not for shame among you at all
Though dogges possesse the sepulcre royall
Alas why do you suffer it for pitie
But after these as farre as I coulde se
Fewe or none was that deserued fame
Sauing that behynde there went by name
One Sarracene that dyd much payne and wo
To christen men it is euen playnely soo
and Saladyne after dyd folowe a great pase
and one Duke of Lancaster after there was
That with sheilde, and swerde, and bowe & launce
Was a sharpe scourge vnto the realme of fraunce
and thus marueylyng as I lokte all aboute
as one that was desyrouse amongest the route
To se more of these valliaunt men
At the last I dyd behold there and then
Twayne worthy men that lately alas dyd dye
There they went in that honorably companye
The good kyng Robert of Cecyll he was there
That with his wyse syght sawe fare and nere
and my good Columnes went in that arraye
Uallyaunt and free and constant alway.
The thirde Chapiter of Fame.
I coulde not in noo wyse away put my syghtFrom these greate honorable men of myght
When as me thoughte one to me dyd saye
Loke on the lefte hande there see thou may
The dyuyne Plato that goeth I say full nye
Unto the marke of fame euen by and by
Next vnto Plato Aristotle there he is
Pytagoras foloweth that mekely calde Iwys
Phylosophy he dyd geue it that name
Socrates and Xenophontes folowed the same
And that fyery olde auncient man
To whome the musys were so fraudely than
That dyscryued Argo Micena and Troye
Howe that for Helene they lost all their ioye
And he dyd wryte of Laertes sonne also
And of Achilles that was the Troyanes woo
He was the fyrst paynter it is so tolde
Of the auncient and venerable actes olde
There went with hym in that place hand in hand
The Mantuan poete I do well vnderstand
Stryuyng which of them should goo before
And there folowed after in hast more and more
It semed the flowres dyd spryng on the grasse
It is he the most eloquent Marcus Tullius
The selfe same eyes and the tunge gloriouse
Unto all the Latynes there there was he
And after hym there came Demostyne
That semyd to be not very well content
Because he was not accompted most excellent
To goo hymselfe next vnto worthy fame
He toke it to be to hym great wrong and shame
He semyd to be a lyghtnyng all one fyre
But next vnto hym all full of grete desyre
Went Eschyues which myght perceaue and se
Howe vnmete he was vnto Demostyne
I cannot saye in ordre nether wryte nor tell
Of one and other that dyd there exell
Nor howe I dyd them se nor when
Nor who went foremost nor hynmost then
For it were so to do to great a wondre
They went not fare these clarkes a sondre
But so thycke that both eye and mynd
In lokyng on them theyr names I could not find
But well I knowe that Solon he was there
That planted soo good holsome frute to bere
And yet to lytle effect at length it was
With hym the syx wyse sage grekes dyd pas
Which Grece doth boste of for theyr wyt
In one bande together they were knyt
and I dyd with these also well beholde
Uarro which all our nacione had enrolde
As theyr Duke the thyrde in place was he
Of all the Romaynes in that high degree
The more his face semed fayre and clere
Crispo Salustius went with him hande in hande
And Tytus Liuius by hym dyd there stande
Scant contented but lokyng very sadde
Because the fyrst honoure there he ne had
And as I loked fast on this Tytus Liuius
Came by me the excellent naturall Pluuius
Quick in wrytyng but quycker to the death
To muche boldenes dyd stoppe alas his breath
I sawe after hym the great clarcke Plotinus
That wenyng by hys lyfe solytariouse
To haue preuented his harde chaunce & destenye
yet fell he therin for truth this is no lye
His sage foresyght dyd profyt hym nothyng
When necessitie therto dyd hym brynge
There was in lykewyse among the rest also
Crasso, Antonio, and sage Hortensio
Sergius, Galba, and the disdayning Licinius
Whiche were to muche proude and to to curiouse
For with theyr tunges vntrue and vniuste
They sclaūdered Cicero they were ye lesse to trust
There folowed after Lucides in that pres
That ordeyned wt wisedome the howres doutles
And wrote of the battels & wher they were done
And Herodotus with his style holesome
And he beganne the crafty sciense of Geometre
The triangle and the rounde Arball in degre
And of the quadrant fyrme and fast also
The Sophisticall Porphirus next hym dyd go
And falsely dysputed agaynst our religion
And he of soo that with his disputacion
Apollo and Esculapius with hym is
Howbeit they were so auncyent and olde
That scant I could decerne what they would
There was one in that preace of Pargamo
His science is now past it is verye so
But in his tyme it was muche set by
Anaxarco without dread most hardye
And Denocrates more fyrme then a stone
So that there coulde no euyll temptation
Moue hym to any thinge that was vyle
Or by vnclennes his chast body defyle
There folowed hym self there Archemenides
With sadde regarde he stode in that pres
And the pensyfe Democryte next in ordre there
Blynde of both his eyes he had no pere
There was Hyppia also of great auncient age
That durst affyrme that he was so wyse and sage
That he knewe and vnderstode all thynge
Archisilao ensued not much vnlyke such rekening
That he accompted by hys scyence playne
All thynge to be doubtfull and certayne
I sawe Heraclito with wordes couert and close
And Diogenes folowyng his sensual purpose
That lytle shamed his desyre to ensue
Amonge the other this straunge clerke I knewe
And he that shewed a gladde mery chere
When al his landes were lost and other gere
There was also Dicearco the curyouse
Quintilian, Sceneke, and Plutarke the famouse
And after these excellent and connynge men
I sawe a great number together then
Not to knowe but to fynde secret places
One contrarye vnto the tother alwayes
That it semed there clateryng was lyke iayes
With a romblynge as the shyppes that be
In a raygne tempest vpon the large see
Euen as Lyons and serpentes hurle together
Withoute profyte nowe hyther nowe thyther
Was there disputation and after these than
Wyttye Carneades that well lerned man
That coulde with speach a case so fyle
That were it true or false hys subtyll style
It was harde his craft to knowe and discerne
He lyued longe without all syknes and harme
Tyll false enuy agaynst hym dyd soo aryse
That he coulde not although he were wyse
Resyst the fury of them that hym hatyd
Nor the veneme that agaynst hym was debatyd
There was also the bablynge Epicurus
That agaynst Cirus was greatlye contrariouse
That affirmed oure soules neuer to dye
This Epycure cleene contrary dyd denye
And sayd that our soules were very mortall
And perysshes as best soules do with the body all
Wherby he deserued to haue reproue and blame
And scant worthy for to folowe fame
I sawe dyuers other folowinge thys secte
Lyppo and Metrodorus and Aristippus ye electe
For theyr excellent conninge that they then hade
Praysed greatly though theyr saynges were bad
There was also that Phylozopher yt in very dede
Spune the subtle and wonderouse crafty threde
That he semed to haue a knowledge deuyne
zemone the father of the Stoykes secte
Aboue the rest he was best electe
Well declared he as he dyd there stande
By the palme and closyng of his hande
Howe the truth was in eche season and case
For he so declared it with his wyse face
The vayne argumentes from the true euen so
That many after hym dyd ensue and go
Here I do leue to speake more of the rest
And nowe wyll tell of that thyng which is best.
The ende of the Tryumphe of fame.
The excellent and moste dyuyne Tryumphe of Tyme.
Frome hys golden harboroughe & restyng placeThe fayre Aurora going afore his face
Yssewed out the sonne so clear & fyrmely set
With radient and bryght beames burnished & bet,
That thou woldest haue said euen with a thought
Thys faire swete planet was gotten vp a loft
Thus vp rysen in lyke maner and guyse
As do these sage men sober sadde and wyse
He loked all about and to hymselfe he sayde
What doest thou nowe I se well at this brayde
Yf to thyne one selfe thou take no better hede
All thy great glory wylbe gone in dede
Take thou then I aduyse the good and wise cure
For yf that it be very certeyne and sure
That worthy men by fame dyeng do not dye
Thys vniuersall and fyrme course eternally
Of the large heuen most sure and certayne
Shalbe accompted at the last but vayne
And yf fame mortall foreuer do encrease
That a litle short houre shuld cause to scase
I se my great excellence shall soone declyne
And howe can I haue a worse ende and fyne
Than man in earth that dying cannot dye
That thynkes my selfe equall by speciall grace
Aboue all other to haue the highest place
In the great wyde and large see Occeane
Foure horses of myne are there and than
That with great studye. I nourishe and dresse
In theyr rennyng course of infinitie switenesse
And yet for all theyr great wonderfull hoste
Cannot a mortall man that is dead and past
Put in forgetting neyther his laude nor fame
It muste neades greue and anger me that same
Not onely I my selfe the chefe in my degree
But the thyrde or seconde wold therat greued be
I must than hast my selfe with a great zele
Agaynst these men for the wrong that I fele
In doublyng my course to there double harme
For I do enuy there same that is so farme
That after a thousand and a thousand yeares
Theyr high renowme and theyr glory cleres
Much more after theyr death then in theyr lyfe
Which playne is vnto me a perpetuall stryfe
That am nowe no higher nor in no better rate
Than I was or the earth was in his firste state
Goyng in compasse with my beames bryght
By thys great round bole which is infinite
When this fayre beautifull sonne had thus sayde
Dysdaynyng furthwith and euen at a brayde
She toke her course far more swyfter I say
Then Faukon that from a high flyeth to ye praye
Her wonders swiftnes I can nether tel nor write
For it is not possible for me it to endyte
So that to remember it I am in feare and dreade
Then I saye when that wyttely I mynded this
I compted oure lyfe to be a vyle thynge as it is
and none other nor no better but a terrible vanite
To put oure hartes on that which sone doth fle
So fast away that euen with a thought
Wenyng to holde hym we holde hym noughte
He whosoeuer doth loke vnto his state
Let hym sone prouyde for hym selfe algate
Whyles he hath his fre wyl in his propre myghte
In thynges that be stable to set his delyght
For when I sawe the tyme goo so fast
After his guyde that maketh post hast
I wyll not saye it, for tell it I ne can
For I sawe euen at one verye poynte than
The yse and the rose one after the other
Nowe colde nowe hote euen with the tother
That for to tell it is a maruelous case
Howe after the tone the tother hyeth a pase
He that with a wyse iudgement this markes
Shall se by true experience all these warkes
Whiche lytle I noted in my yonge lusty age
And that maketh me nowe with my selfe to rage
For then I confesse all my hoole delyght
Was in folowyng my folysh appetyte
But now afore my feble eyes is a glasse
Wherein I spye my greate faulte that was
Styll goynge downeward to my last ende & fyne
Remembryng therto howe fast it doth declyne
I was a chylde euen this same present daye
And nowe an olde man prest to passe away,
Lesse then a sely daye is oure lyfe mortall
Cloudy and colde, and ful of woo and payne
That semeth to be fayre, and yet is but vayne
This is the vnstable hope of all our kynde
Why are we then so proude why are we so blynd?
When no man knoweth hys lyfe nor his death
And this note onely as the sage man sayeth
Doth not touche me but all that be alyue
The fast course of the Sonne doth away dryue
That plainly and manifestly the truth note I shal
The ruyne of the worlde is knowen to vs all
Then ye yonge men that be in your fresh lust
Measure ye tyme longe and put therto your trust
Folyshly I say playnly why cal ye not to mynd
Afore consydered hurte lesse hurteth by kynde
Onles I blowe these wordes to you in vayne
But I do tel you note it for truth and certayne
ye that do not mynde, nor well remember this
With a slepy lytargy your braynes combred is
For the howres flyes a pace, so doth the dayes
The monethes and the yeares, folowes alwayes
Together in a breif shorte distaunce and tyme
So that yf ye well and wysely note this ryme
We must all mortall men to another countre pas
And all our great glory shalbe turned to was
Goo ye not then agayne the truth I do saye
But amende your euyl lyues whyles that ye may
Do not abyde tyll dreadfull death you take
As the most part of ye vnwytty doth I vndertake
O that ye wyll not this well vnderstande
Of fooles there is doubtles an infinite bande
This great planet howe fast it doth fle
Which tyme when I myght, by folye I haue not taken
But with muche great losse this tyme forsaken
I sawe amonge these vnwyse foles all
A nation that by theyr science lytle cared at all
Nor feared not oft tyme the course rabidouse
These I saye remoued and people most gloriouse
Whiche hystorians hath taken in theyr garde
And poetes also that wrote howe that they farde
Of this it semed then the sonne had enuye
Whiche by them selfe so mounted to hyghe glorye
Passyng awaye from the madde vulgar quyte
By the honorable vertuous wayes noble & right
He hasted then this Sonne a wonders spedy pas
With moche more forse then euer there was
And to his swyft horses he doubled the meate
Passynge by the great beare this planet great
So that the quene of whome I haue sayde
Would haue departed from the sonne at ye brayde
I haue hard saye, I wote not well of whome
That euen as a wede wasteth our glory is goone
And that all our fame is but blynde and derke
And a perpetual forgetfulnes al our labor & werk
And he sayd further that all the longe yeares
And the processe also of the lusters and speares
And of worldes infinite hereafter for to come
Shall vanysh awaye our fame al and some
Doubtles of as many it is playne euen so
As are betwyxt these places Peneo and Hebro
Or as far asunder as that ryuer of zanto
Is distaunt by measure from the valey of Thebro
Euen as we se the ayer fayre and bryght
Made darke and hydde with a mysty cloude
And breifly this alwayes note wel we should
A hasty longe rynnyng awaye of the tyme
Is a poyson to fame to cause it to declyne
Our Tryumphs shal passe our pompes shal decay
Our lordshyppes our kyngdomes shall all awaye
And al thynge also that we accompt mortall
Tyme at the length shal clene deface it al
And to this those that are but meanly good
They affirme and say playne ye who so vnderstode
Not onely our bodyes sone away doth passe
But all our wyttes and eloquence in lyke case
Thus not goyng but flying the world doth go
Nor resysteth nor tarieth not it is playne so
Tyl he haue brought al false worldly luste
To no better thynge but to bare ashes and duste
Why than hath humayne glory so much hy pryde
When that it is very playne sene on euery syde
Although the vulgar doth not this thinge marke
We shuld wel by ryght experiēce know this wark
That these foles do bable they wote not what
If that the case were our short lyfe declyned not
So sone nor so swyftly vnto the last ende
Al the hye fame whereto that men pretende
Euen as the smoke doth vanyshe awaye
So at the last al thynges do playne decay
This hearing me think it standes wt good reason
Not for to deny the truth at no season
But to agre to that thynge we do wel know
Euen by comparison as the sonne melteth ye snow
Not a thousande famouse but at the last them all
Though that the moost part thynke it be not so
O therfore I saye, howe blynde are they therto
That thynke it muche better for to die in age
Then lyinge in the cradle to go that passage
To how many men had it ben far passing better?
Yea: and I affyrme it a .M. tymes more sweter
To haue dyed beyng yonge then to haue died old
Many excellent clarckes doth it by reason holde
That muche more fortunate the vnborne chylder
Then chyldren that be borne such payne to se
But the great number hath alway greatest error be
If it were so certayne and thervnto so sure
That after a longe lyfe shuld come a longe fame
Who be they I pray you that wyll folow the same
The couetous time turneth al thinge vp so doune
And our great fame that doth so hyghly soune
It is no nother to be named but a second death
Nor stay is there none as the true truth sayth
Thus tryumpheth tyme and hasteth so a pace
That all our glory and fame it doth deface.
The ende of the Tryumphe of tyme.
The excellent and moste Deuyne Tryumphe of Dyuynitie.
Sythyns that vnder the heauen nothing I seStable and fyrme but all mere vanitie
I remembred my selfe and to my selfe dyd say
In whome doest yu trust tell me I the pray
Softly I am answered vnto that lord I trust
That of his promise is so faythfull and iust
That who so in hym hath a true perfect fayth
Shall neuer be dysceyued so his wordes sayth
For well I se the false worlde dyd me but scorne
And I knowe what I am & what I was beforne
And I se the tyme not for to go but to flye
And I know not in dread of whome to be sorye
But of my selfe that haue deserued blame
That haue not or nowe remembred the same
The faulte is in me that longe I say or this
Shuld haue considered my great foly I wys
And so opened myne eyes & not fallen to slothe
To haue perceyued and knowen the troughe
In differing my lyfe vnto the last combrous age
Which by course of tyme continually do asswage
But slowe was neuer the deuyne grace
To call me to goodnes and vertue apase
High operacion from all euell to flye
Thus with my selfe disputing to and froo
I thought euen very thus yf that it be soo
These thinges that in this wise turne about ye ski
And guides & gouernes it in ordre so meruelousli
After so much turnyng and reuoluing to and froo
What ende shall I haue I would fayne knowe soo
And as that I was solitaire in this meditacione
It semed to me I sawe a wonderfull facion
A newe fayre worlde stable and eterne
And this olde world that semeth so ferme
The sonne and the stares and the heauen rounde
And the great se also with the earth and ground
To vanyshe clene awaye & in theyr rome & place
A newe merier world made by godes grace
What great trowe ye then admiracion had I
When I sawe the sonne firmament and the skye
Stand fyrme on one fote sure stable and faste
That with his swyft course runnyng at the laste
Changed all thinges mortall and then restrained
His thre partes brought to one part vnfayned
And then no distinction no difference of them at al
But the herbe and grasse and flowers with all
All bareyne and bare before and behynde
Which variacion doth naturally bekynde
Much bitter sorowe to our nature frayle
All at ones together then and there to fayle
Then the thought passeth as the sonne the glasse
And much more for nothing the powre hase
It for to holde or elles for to restrayne
O what grace shall that be for man to attayne
And none euell at all which of the tyme woode
Onely commeth and goeth here and there
To be out of doubte of all dread and feare
The sonne that shall haue no more his place
Neyther in the hornyd bull nor in lyke case
In the fyshe in which two variable sygnes
Uarieth the yerbes the season and the tymes
Nowe we do sowe and after we do reape
Nowe creasynge nowe discresing so is our heape
But happye and blessed be those spirites certenly
That be found in that holy state eternally
Sure and very certayne in honor to encrease
Without terme or tyme neuer to sease
O howe happye is he that fyndeth that way
To passe this Rabidus and dul passage I say
That is called in this vnstable world a lyfe
And is so troublouse and so ful of stryfe
Blynd and wretched I say are the mortal
That hoopeth in thynges that sone doth fall
Which tyme taketh away with a thought
And turneth al our fancis and foly to nought
Surely they are both vnwise deffe and frayle
Poore of iudgment and of Counsayle
Yea & worse then sike, in dead & wretched therto
That doth not as our deutie is regard hym so
That with his becke may trouble and appease
The elementes al as it doth hym please
Whome to honour we are not bound onlye
But the Aungels that sit in the heauen hye
Are contented of the thousand partes as one
With ye sight of his godhed in his gloriouse trone
Are not our myndes then worthy of reprehenciō
To loke on that which in the very ende
Commeth to no profite therevnto to pretende
For that which we so fast gather together
With much paine in mani years hether & thether
With great and troubles cumbrance of mynd
To day and to morowe at the last we fynde
As the shadowe doth passe away and glyde
Euen at the poynt so shall all our pryde
Then remember ye well I truly counsell this
That after goddes great dreadfull iudgement is
Was and shalbe shall haue no more time and place
But one eternitie together in one selfe space
Nor further there shalbe none obiecte at all
To hurte by our sight our weake memoriall
Which is the occacion and the very cause
Many an vnprudent person in vanitie to pause
That the lyfe present semeth but a playe
Thinking they are to morowe as to day
But then all otherwyse shalbe no diuision at all
But litle and litle the hole vniuersall
Shalbe together and wynter and somer paste
And tyme quiete gone and no lenger laste
Nor these yeares ye we do nowe presently name
Shall haue no more the domynion of fame
But ones theyr famouse that shall neuer disseuer
But in eternitie to endure famouse foreuer
O happie are those soules that are in that way
Of which so much I nowe speake of and say
In ioy glory and rest styll to Endure
That are and shalbe perpetually, so sure
Most blessed of all other playnly is she
That cruell death kylled or she came to age
There shalbe seene in that angelyke vysage
The honest wordes the thought cleane and chast
That nature had set in her in olde tymes past
And for because that euery thought and thynge
Is playne and manyfest to the eternall kynge
When the blessed elect soules turned be
Unto the moost happy state of theyr fyrst degre
With the poyntinge of the fynger euen then
Shalbe sayde how, where, and also when
Lo this is he whiche that loue deteyned
And longe and many a day lamēted & complained
And yet was most fortunate for to se the cheare
Aboue al other ioyes in the world of his lady dere
And she also of whome that wepyng I synge
Shall of her selfe haue greate maruelyng
To beholde and fele in euery wyse and degre
Her selfe aboue all other in Ioy and felicitie
When this shalbe God wote I cannot tell
But she that is nygh of the great goddes councel
This hygh preuy secrete in parte doth know
And for to declare and tel that I trowe
It is as I do ymagin very nygh at hande
And when that commeth men shal vnderstande
How euyl they theyr wanton tyme haue spent
In gettyng worldly goddes landes and rent
Wenyng for euer them to holde and possesse
And yet for the final conclusion it is doubtles
They shal se them selues in very dede
Mockt and scorned to trust vnto suche mede
But all secretes vnshote open playne and cleare
All our conscience whether it be bright or darke
Before al the world shall appeare our werke
And then ye myghtie and gloriouse king celestiall
That in his fearefull Iudgment is not percial
As reason is and as it ought to be
His wise Iudgment therto shall agre
And when that sentence is both gone and past
Eche man his viage with great dread and hast
As the wylde beastes that hast them fast to flye
Afore the barkyng doges for feare they in be
Euen in lyke wyse scattered here and there
Shalbe these proude men with all there gay gere
And playnely perceaue that to there hurt it was
All such lucre when these thinges come to pas
But those that by grace haue brydled such delight
In refraining their vayne and couetouse appetite
And measured false fortune with an honest vse
Be mery together without fraude and abuse
Those be sure and certayne for to be
With the saintes in perpetuall ioy and felicitie
These fyue Tryumphes yt I haue here rehearsed
And vnder a straunge colour them expressed
Haue nowe by godes sufferaunce an ende
With this the sixt whereto I dyd pretend
Then ye that rede thys thynke this state eterne
and thinke that the tyme that doth discerne
This vnstable world turnyng to and froo
and fearefull gastly death it is playne so
all shall vanyshe doubtles foreuer away
Beleue me this is sure after the last day
Spent well there tyme lyuing without blame
And by vertue made both death & tyme to fere
Whyles that they lyued in this frayle world here
In theyr most freshe and lustye young courage
They shall aryse tryumphantly about that age
With beautie immortall and high fame eterne
Neuer after that tyme for to feele no harme
But then afore all other that there shall be
In that endles glory we shal beholde and se
My fayre swete lady of whome so much I write
More beauteous then the sonne in his hyest light
There is a litle ryuer Gebenna men it call
Where first in loue I chaunched for to fall
There loue dyd make me so longe a cruel awarre
That yet I dread to thynke vpon that starre
Happy is that stone that couereth that swet face
Wherin there resteth so much beautie and grace
If that then I were happy in thys lyfe it to se
Here on this vyle earth so perfect in degree
After that this swete gratiouse Lady hath taken
That same fayre dispoyle yt semyth now forsaken
What shal it be I praye you to tel me this
Then to beholde hyr eternall blysse.
The ende of the Tryumphes of Fraunces Petrarcke.
Uyrgyll in his Epigrames of Cupide and Dronkenesse.
Nec viui nec tu veneris capiares Amore
That
wonderous wytty Uirgil yt so wel cold endight
The wayes to wyne to vertue righte harde for to attayne
In his sentēsiouse verses declareth with reasō right
Howe that both wyne and women doth put a man to payne
He sayth in passyng measure with eyther of these twayne
It is a thyng abhominable. Nowe here what he doth tell
Although my ryme be rude to touche so high a vayne
Yf that ye marke this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well.
The wayes to wyne to vertue righte harde for to attayne
In his sentēsiouse verses declareth with reasō right
Howe that both wyne and women doth put a man to payne
He sayth in passyng measure with eyther of these twayne
It is a thyng abhominable. Nowe here what he doth tell
Although my ryme be rude to touche so high a vayne
Yf that ye marke this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well.
Thus sayeth our famouse poete loue not to much wyne
Nor yet on wanton Uenus set not to much thy mynde
For lyke as wanton Cupide thy strength doth quyte declyne
So doth thys wyne thy force and all thy senses bynde
Maketh a man to stacker and stumble as the blynde
That he forgetes hym selfe his enemie to repell
Altereth and defaseth mans nature and his kynde
Yf that ye marke this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well
Nor yet on wanton Uenus set not to much thy mynde
For lyke as wanton Cupide thy strength doth quyte declyne
So doth thys wyne thy force and all thy senses bynde
Maketh a man to stacker and stumble as the blynde
That he forgetes hym selfe his enemie to repell
Altereth and defaseth mans nature and his kynde
Yf that ye marke this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well
Uenus is ful of pleasure who can to this say nay
But if it fall to rage then reason goeth asyde
Then turneth it to werynes and to a greuouse playe
Most paynefull to hymselfe when he is most in pryde
Unneth his secrete pastymes the foole he doth not hyde
No more then doth the dronkerd that all on wyne doth smell
They are not much vnlyke when reason hath them tryed
If that ye note this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well
But if it fall to rage then reason goeth asyde
Then turneth it to werynes and to a greuouse playe
Most paynefull to hymselfe when he is most in pryde
Unneth his secrete pastymes the foole he doth not hyde
No more then doth the dronkerd that all on wyne doth smell
They are not much vnlyke when reason hath them tryed
Who that with wine is whitled no counsell will he kepe
Aswell his frende as foo shall knowe all his entent
Who so with Lady Uenus in brased armes doth slepe
Doth now and then disclose that thing he doth repent
And this is not the worse that on this twayne is ment
These bryng in warre and wo the one the other to quell
Somtime but for a tryfle tyll lyfe and all be spent
If that ye note this doctryne doubteles ye shall do well.
Aswell his frende as foo shall knowe all his entent
Who so with Lady Uenus in brased armes doth slepe
Doth now and then disclose that thing he doth repent
And this is not the worse that on this twayne is ment
These bryng in warre and wo the one the other to quell
Somtime but for a tryfle tyll lyfe and all be spent
If that ye note this doctryne doubteles ye shall do well.
Parys by Uenus councell brought Helene vnto Troy
Though that the pryce was swet the ende was passyng sower
For many a worthy warryor therby dyd lese theyr Ioye
And Troy turned vnto Asshes both castel wall and towre
This wanton wylfull dalyeng raysyd so great a shoure
That of that happe that happened the worlde doth speake & tel
Loo howe Uenus can flatter when she thinketh to deuoure
If that ye note this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well.
Though that the pryce was swet the ende was passyng sower
For many a worthy warryor therby dyd lese theyr Ioye
And Troy turned vnto Asshes both castel wall and towre
This wanton wylfull dalyeng raysyd so great a shoure
That of that happe that happened the worlde doth speake & tel
Loo howe Uenus can flatter when she thinketh to deuoure
If that ye note this doctrine doubtles ye shall do well.
Then yf that wyne and Uenus haue ones the vpper hande
And on the one or both the mynde set in a rage
All honestie is excluded and wytt tyed in a band
And vertue fayre and dread fast locked in a cage
Although he be a lorde yet serues he as a page
Two perlouse noughty vices worse then a fend of hell
Where that these monsters rule right hard for to aswage
If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do well.
And on the one or both the mynde set in a rage
All honestie is excluded and wytt tyed in a band
And vertue fayre and dread fast locked in a cage
Although he be a lorde yet serues he as a page
Two perlouse noughty vices worse then a fend of hell
Where that these monsters rule right hard for to aswage
If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do well.
Wyll ye then be wise and learne to rule these twayne
Do as oure Uirgill counseles and ye shall lyue in reste
Tye vp both wyne and Uenus fast fetered with a chayne
Lest that with theyr rewardes the mynde be not opprest
Let wyne but quenche thy thurst so is that lycour best
Let Uenus serue to multiply our nature that doth excel
But and ye passe these bondes then is the goodnes ceast
If that ye note this doctryne, doubtles ye shall do wel
Do as oure Uirgill counseles and ye shall lyue in reste
Tye vp both wyne and Uenus fast fetered with a chayne
Let wyne but quenche thy thurst so is that lycour best
Let Uenus serue to multiply our nature that doth excel
But and ye passe these bondes then is the goodnes ceast
If that ye note this doctryne, doubtles ye shall do wel
Measure is more worth then golde or precious stone
And in forsakynge measure a good thynge turnes to vyce
To to muche at length hath caused many a one
For to descende as fast as they dyd vp aryse
Then thus for to conclude I count hym perfyt wyse
That rules hym selfe in measure and toto doth repell
So vse both wyne and wemen that ye be not to nyse
If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do well
And in forsakynge measure a good thynge turnes to vyce
To to muche at length hath caused many a one
For to descende as fast as they dyd vp aryse
Then thus for to conclude I count hym perfyt wyse
That rules hym selfe in measure and toto doth repell
So vse both wyne and wemen that ye be not to nyse
If that ye note this doctryne doubtles ye shall do well
Finis.
Auctores incerte.
The englysh of these verses.
The honour of the false world doth passeBut the glory of heauen none ende has
If then thou folowe false fugitiue felicitie
Thy selfe shalbe fugitiue it must so be
Then remember nothynge continueth euer
The short mutable tyme that taryeth neuer
Suffers to no man no suerty for to haue
Tyl bytter death doth lay hym in his graue
Finis.
| The tryumphes of Fraunces Petrarcke | |