Albions England A Continued Historie of the same Kingdome, from the Originals of the first Inhabitants thereof: With most the chiefe Alterations and Accidents theare hapning, vnto, and in the happie Raigne of our now most gracious Soueraigne, Queene Elizabeth: Not barren in varietie of inuentiue and historicall Intermixtures: First penned and published by William Warner: and now reuised, and newly inlarged by the same Author: Whereunto is also newly added an Epitome of the whole Historie of England |
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| 1. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| 2. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| 3. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| 4. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| 5. |
| XXIII. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| 6. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| 7. |
| XXXIIII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| 8. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
CHAP. XLII.
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| XLIIII. |
| 9. |
| XLIIII. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| 10. |
| LIIII. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| 11. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIIII. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| 12. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIIII. |
| LXXV. |
| 13. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
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CHAP. XLII.
Albions England |  |
CHAP. XLII.
An Earle (quoth he) had wedded, lou'd, was lou'd, and liued long
Full true to his fayre Countesse, yeat at last he did her wrong.
Once hunted he, vntill the Chace, long fasting, and the heate
Did house him in a peakish Graunge within a Forrest great.
Wheare, Knowne, & welcom'd (as the place & persons might afforde)
Browne bread, whig, bacon, curds, & milke were set him on the Borde,
A Cushion made of Lists, a Stoole halfe backed with a houpe
We are brought him, & he sitteth down besides a sorry Coupe
The poore old Couple wish't their bread were wheat, their whig were Perry,
Their bacō beefe, their milke & curds were creame to make him merry.
Meane while (in Russet neatly clad, with linnen white as Swanne,
Her selfe more white, saue rosie wheare the rudy colour ranne,
Whom naked Nature, not the Aydes of Arte, made to excell)
The Good mans Daughter sterres to see that all weare feat and well.
The Earle did marke her, and admire such Beautie there to dwell.
Yeat fals he to their homely fare, and hild him at a feast:
But as his hunger slacked so an amorous heat increast,
When this repast was past, and thanks, and welcome too, he sayd
Vnto his Oste and Ostesse, in the hearing of the Mayd,
Yee know (quoth he) that I am Lord of this and many Townes,
I also know that you be poore, and I can spare you pownes,
So will I, so yee will consent that yonder Lasse and I
May bargaine for her Loue, at least doe giue me leaue to try:
Who needs to know it? Nay who dares into my doings pry?
First they mislike, yeat at the length for lucar were mislead,
And then the gamesome Earle did wowe the Damsell for his bead.
He tooke her in his armes, as yet so coyish to be kist
As Mayds that know themselues belou'd and yeeldingly resist.
In fewe, his offers were so large she lastly did consent,
With whom he lodged all that night, and early home he went.
Full true to his fayre Countesse, yeat at last he did her wrong.
Once hunted he, vntill the Chace, long fasting, and the heate
Did house him in a peakish Graunge within a Forrest great.
202
Browne bread, whig, bacon, curds, & milke were set him on the Borde,
A Cushion made of Lists, a Stoole halfe backed with a houpe
We are brought him, & he sitteth down besides a sorry Coupe
The poore old Couple wish't their bread were wheat, their whig were Perry,
Their bacō beefe, their milke & curds were creame to make him merry.
Meane while (in Russet neatly clad, with linnen white as Swanne,
Her selfe more white, saue rosie wheare the rudy colour ranne,
Whom naked Nature, not the Aydes of Arte, made to excell)
The Good mans Daughter sterres to see that all weare feat and well.
The Earle did marke her, and admire such Beautie there to dwell.
Yeat fals he to their homely fare, and hild him at a feast:
But as his hunger slacked so an amorous heat increast,
When this repast was past, and thanks, and welcome too, he sayd
Vnto his Oste and Ostesse, in the hearing of the Mayd,
Yee know (quoth he) that I am Lord of this and many Townes,
I also know that you be poore, and I can spare you pownes,
So will I, so yee will consent that yonder Lasse and I
May bargaine for her Loue, at least doe giue me leaue to try:
Who needs to know it? Nay who dares into my doings pry?
First they mislike, yeat at the length for lucar were mislead,
And then the gamesome Earle did wowe the Damsell for his bead.
He tooke her in his armes, as yet so coyish to be kist
As Mayds that know themselues belou'd and yeeldingly resist.
In fewe, his offers were so large she lastly did consent,
With whom he lodged all that night, and early home he went.
He tooke occasion oftentimes in such a sort to hunt,
Whom when his Lady often myst, contrary to his wont,
And lastly was informed of his amorous haunt elsewheare,
It greeu'd her not a little, though she seem'd it well to beare.
And thus she reasons with her selfe: Some fault perhaps in me,
Some what is done that so he doth, Alas, what may it be?
How may I winne him to my selfe? He is a Man, and men
Haue imperfections: It hehooues me pardon Nature then.
To checke him weare to make him checke, although hee now weare cha'ste:
A man controuled of his Wife to her makes lesser haste.
If dutie then or daliance may preuayle to alter him,
I will be dutifull, and make my selfe for daliance trim.
So was she, and so louingly did entertaine her Lord,
As fairer or more faultles none could be for Bed or Bord.
Yeat still he Loues his Leiman, and did still pursue that game,
Suspecting nothing lesse then that his Lady knew the same:
Wherefore, to make him know she knew, she this deuise did frame.
Whom when his Lady often myst, contrary to his wont,
And lastly was informed of his amorous haunt elsewheare,
It greeu'd her not a little, though she seem'd it well to beare.
And thus she reasons with her selfe: Some fault perhaps in me,
Some what is done that so he doth, Alas, what may it be?
How may I winne him to my selfe? He is a Man, and men
203
To checke him weare to make him checke, although hee now weare cha'ste:
A man controuled of his Wife to her makes lesser haste.
If dutie then or daliance may preuayle to alter him,
I will be dutifull, and make my selfe for daliance trim.
So was she, and so louingly did entertaine her Lord,
As fairer or more faultles none could be for Bed or Bord.
Yeat still he Loues his Leiman, and did still pursue that game,
Suspecting nothing lesse then that his Lady knew the same:
Wherefore, to make him know she knew, she this deuise did frame.
When long she had been wrong'd, & sought the foresaid meanes in vaine,
She rideth to the simple Graunge but with a slender traine:
She lighteth, entreth, greets them well, and then did looke about her:
The guiltie houshold, knowing her, did wish themselues without her,
Yeat, for she looked merily, the lesse they did misdoubt her.
When she had seen the beautious Wench (thē blushing fairnes fairer)
Such Beauty made the Countesse hold them both excus'd the rather.
Who would not bite at such a Bait? (thought she) & who (though loth)
So poore a Wench, but gold might tempt? sweet errors lead thē both:
Scarce one of twentie that hath brag'd of proffer'd Gold denied:
Or of such yeelding Beautie baulkt but (tenne to one) hath lied.
Thus thought she. And she thus declares her cause of cōming thether:
My Lord, oft hunting in these Partes, through trauell, night, or wether,
Hath often lodged in your House, I thanke you for the same,
For why? it doth him iolly ease to lie so neere his Game:
But for you haue not furniture, beseeming such a Guest,
I bring his owne, and come my selfe to see his lodging drest.
With that two Sumpters were discharg'd, in which were Hangings braue,
Silke Couerings, Curtens, Carpets, Plate, & al such turn should haue.
When all was hansomly dispos'd, She prayes them to haue caer
That nothing hap in their default that might his health impaer:
And, Damsell, quoth she, (for it seemes this houshold is but three,
And for thy Parents age that this shall chiefely rest on thee)
Doe me that good, else would to God he hither come no more.
So tooke she horse, and ere she went bestowed gould good store.
She rideth to the simple Graunge but with a slender traine:
She lighteth, entreth, greets them well, and then did looke about her:
The guiltie houshold, knowing her, did wish themselues without her,
Yeat, for she looked merily, the lesse they did misdoubt her.
When she had seen the beautious Wench (thē blushing fairnes fairer)
Such Beauty made the Countesse hold them both excus'd the rather.
Who would not bite at such a Bait? (thought she) & who (though loth)
So poore a Wench, but gold might tempt? sweet errors lead thē both:
Scarce one of twentie that hath brag'd of proffer'd Gold denied:
Or of such yeelding Beautie baulkt but (tenne to one) hath lied.
Thus thought she. And she thus declares her cause of cōming thether:
My Lord, oft hunting in these Partes, through trauell, night, or wether,
Hath often lodged in your House, I thanke you for the same,
For why? it doth him iolly ease to lie so neere his Game:
But for you haue not furniture, beseeming such a Guest,
I bring his owne, and come my selfe to see his lodging drest.
With that two Sumpters were discharg'd, in which were Hangings braue,
Silke Couerings, Curtens, Carpets, Plate, & al such turn should haue.
When all was hansomly dispos'd, She prayes them to haue caer
That nothing hap in their default that might his health impaer:
And, Damsell, quoth she, (for it seemes this houshold is but three,
And for thy Parents age that this shall chiefely rest on thee)
204
So tooke she horse, and ere she went bestowed gould good store.
Full little thought the Countie that his Countesse had done so,
Who, now return'd from farre affaires, did to his sweet-Heart go.
No sooner set he foote within the late deformed Cote,
But that the formall change of things his wondring Eies did Note.
But when he knew those goods to be his proper goods (though late,
Scarce taking leaue) he home returnes the Matter to debate.
The Countesse was a bed, and he with her his lodging tooke:
Sir, welcome home (quoth she) this Night for you I did not looke.
Then did he question her of such his Stuffe bestowed so.
Forsooth (quoth she) because I did your Loue and Lodging knoe,
Your Loue to be a proper Wench, your Lodging nothing lesse,
I hild it for your health the house more decently to dresse.
Well wot I, notwithstanding her, your Lordship loueth me,
And greater hope to hold you such by queat then brawles I see:
Then for my duetie, your delight, and to retaine your fauour,
All done I did, and patiently expect your wonted Hauour.
Her Patience, Witte, & Aunswere wrought his gentle teares to fall,
When (kissing her a score of times) Amend, sweete wife, I shall
He said, and did it: And your Grace may Phillip so recall.
Who, now return'd from farre affaires, did to his sweet-Heart go.
No sooner set he foote within the late deformed Cote,
But that the formall change of things his wondring Eies did Note.
But when he knew those goods to be his proper goods (though late,
Scarce taking leaue) he home returnes the Matter to debate.
The Countesse was a bed, and he with her his lodging tooke:
Sir, welcome home (quoth she) this Night for you I did not looke.
Then did he question her of such his Stuffe bestowed so.
Forsooth (quoth she) because I did your Loue and Lodging knoe,
Your Loue to be a proper Wench, your Lodging nothing lesse,
I hild it for your health the house more decently to dresse.
Well wot I, notwithstanding her, your Lordship loueth me,
And greater hope to hold you such by queat then brawles I see:
Then for my duetie, your delight, and to retaine your fauour,
All done I did, and patiently expect your wonted Hauour.
Her Patience, Witte, & Aunswere wrought his gentle teares to fall,
When (kissing her a score of times) Amend, sweete wife, I shall
He said, and did it: And your Grace may Phillip so recall.
But he (whoso he was) that thus had dubled Tales to cease
Queene Maries griefe, for Phillips guile, as well had hild his peace.
Her no perswading might disswade from pensiuenes of hart,
Vntill that his Vnkindnesse in her Deaths-Scene acts it part.
But howsoere or whatsoere her cause of death might seeme,
Her death did many a good mans life from Tyrannie redeeme,
For, as in Passion, so was she in Papistrie extreeme.
Ill might it therefore boode at her to make our Holly-day.
Of somewhat said and somewhat scapt then thus much by the way.
Queene Maries griefe, for Phillips guile, as well had hild his peace.
Her no perswading might disswade from pensiuenes of hart,
Vntill that his Vnkindnesse in her Deaths-Scene acts it part.
But howsoere or whatsoere her cause of death might seeme,
Her death did many a good mans life from Tyrannie redeeme,
For, as in Passion, so was she in Papistrie extreeme.
Ill might it therefore boode at her to make our Holly-day.
Of somewhat said and somewhat scapt then thus much by the way.
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CHAP. XLII.
Albions England | |