The Rocke of Regard diuided into foure parts. The first, the Castle of delight: Wherein is reported, the wretched end of wanton and dissolute liuing. The second, the Garden of Vnthriftinesse: Wherein are many sweete flowers, (or rather fancies) of honest loue. The thirde, the Arbour of Vertue: Wherein slaunder is highly punished, and vertuous Ladies and Gentlewomen, worthily commended. The fourth, the Ortchard of Repentance: Wherein are discoursed, the miseries that followe dicing, the mischiefes of quareling, the fall of prodigalitie: and the souden ouerthrowe of foure notable cousners, with diuers other morall, natural, & tragical discourses: documents and admonitions being all the inuention, collection and translation of George Whetstons |
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THE DISORDERED life, of Bianca Maria, countesse of
Celaunt, in forme of her complainte, supposed
at the houre of her beheading, for procuring
the murder of Ardissino Valperga Earle of Massino.
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
THE DISORDERED life, of Bianca Maria, countesse of Celaunt, in forme of her complainte, supposed at the houre of her beheading, for procuring the murder of Ardissino Valperga Earle of Massino.
The Argument for the Countesse of Celants complaint.
Giachomo Scaperdon a notable Vsurer, had a gallant damosell vnto his daughter, called Bianca Maria, who arriuing to sixtene or seuentene yeares of age, suche was her sightly shape and beautie, together with the possibilitie of great wealth, that loe, she was a stall to toule diuers suiters: in the end Vicount Hermes fancying the mayde, and louing her wealth, was an earnest suiter to marrie her. Bianca Maria (desirous of honour) consented to haue him. Vicount Hermes possest of this faire Ladie, sone found out her natural disposition to wantonnesse: yet narrowly eyeing her behauiour during his life, he preserued her credite. But oh, this good Vicount dyed, euen in the prime of his wiues wantonnesse, who then crying libertie, set her selfe to sale with open shame: diuers suiters she had, among the which, the count of Celant made suite of marriage, the title of a Coūtesse so pleased her, as she soone assented to be his wife: afterwarde she so cunningly handled the matter, as all the countrie spake of her lightnesse, ere her husband misdoubted her loyaltie. But whē she perceiued his mistrust, she left him & fled to Pauy, where she interteined Ardisino Valperga, Earle of Masino as her minion: but wearie of his custome, she chose Roberto Sanceuerino, Earle of Giazzo for her louer. Valperga thus scorned, railed at hir inconstācie, Bianca Maria, by Valperga thus opēly defamed, practiseth with Gazzo to murther Valperga, which whē Giazzo neglecteth, with very hate she leaueth Giazzo, and falles in loue againe with Valperga, with whom she practiseth to murther Giazzo, which Valperga discouered to Giazzo, and they both in suche sort painted out her lewdnesse, as for very shame she left Pauy, and fled to Mantua, where she interteined one Dom Pietro, a lustie yong captaine, to whom she bewrayed the iniuries of Valperga and Giazzo. Dom Pietro by and by promised, in penance of their shamelesse reportes, to dispatch their liues, which in part he wilfully performed. For one day, taking Valperga at aduauntage, he soudenly slue him, the murther & the murtherer discouered, Dom Pietro was taken, & confessed the whole matter, he in hope of amēdment was pardoned, and Bianca Maria Countesse of Celant, was condemned to be beheaded, whome you may suppose vppon the scaffold, readie to be executed, to complaine as followeth.
Among
their falles, by wanton fate vntwist,
Let my lewde hap, remembred be I pray,
To salue whose harme to late coms had I wist,
Bloud cries for bloud, he craues none other pay:
For conscience sake, behould then now I wray,
With trickling teares, my deadly cheakes that warme,
The true report both of my hap and harme.
Let my lewde hap, remembred be I pray,
To salue whose harme to late coms had I wist,
Bloud cries for bloud, he craues none other pay:
For conscience sake, behould then now I wray,
With trickling teares, my deadly cheakes that warme,
The true report both of my hap and harme.
Good Ladies first, to you this tale I tell,
To you as chiefe this drirye plaint I preach,
Your hie estate, your vices cannot quell:
But as you liue your fame or shame doth streach,
With vauntage sure (such notes doth honour reach)
Your praise is raisde, as farre is blasd your blame:
Thus are your liues, y payst with parcial fame.
To you as chiefe this drirye plaint I preach,
Your hie estate, your vices cannot quell:
But as you liue your fame or shame doth streach,
With vauntage sure (such notes doth honour reach)
Your praise is raisde, as farre is blasd your blame:
Thus are your liues, y payst with parcial fame.
Let mee be proofe, and warning for you both,
Whose filthie life, so foule report hath spread,
That loe (constrainde) I showe the shame, I loth,
My wanton toyes, in thousand bookes are read,
My byrth, my blame, how lewde a life I lead,
My passing loue, my peeuish hate withall,
My murderous minde: in fine my filthie fall.
Whose filthie life, so foule report hath spread,
That loe (constrainde) I showe the shame, I loth,
My wanton toyes, in thousand bookes are read,
My byrth, my blame, how lewde a life I lead,
My passing loue, my peeuish hate withall,
My murderous minde: in fine my filthie fall.
First for my birth, I must confesse, was base,
But bagges I had, this basenesse to supplie,
My forme was fine, I had a gallant face,
A sugred tongue, a passing pleasaunt eye,
Good gifts besides, to hoyse my happe on hie:
These lures in loue, the Uicount Hermes brought,
Who kept mee short to tame my wanton thought.
But bagges I had, this basenesse to supplie,
2
A sugred tongue, a passing pleasaunt eye,
Good gifts besides, to hoyse my happe on hie:
These lures in loue, the Uicount Hermes brought,
Who kept mee short to tame my wanton thought.
But (ah) to soone my Lord to heauen did wend,
Who maugre will, Bianca kept in fame,
The coupe thus broke, wherein I long was pend,
I set my selfe, to saile with open shame,
Gonsago yet, did like mee with my blame,
But loe I stoopte, vnto the Celant Count,
Hee loude mee well, I likt a loft to mount.
Who maugre will, Bianca kept in fame,
The coupe thus broke, wherein I long was pend,
I set my selfe, to saile with open shame,
Gonsago yet, did like mee with my blame,
But loe I stoopte, vnto the Celant Count,
Hee loude mee well, I likt a loft to mount.
Consent of friendes, accorded with our wills,
And wee forsooth in haste must married bee,
But raisde a loft, I quight forgot what quills.
What feathers first, to honour made mee flee?
As priestes forget, the sillie clearkes degree,
So I from cart, a Countesse framde by fate,
Throughe scorne abusde, my honour and estate.
And wee forsooth in haste must married bee,
But raisde a loft, I quight forgot what quills.
What feathers first, to honour made mee flee?
As priestes forget, the sillie clearkes degree,
So I from cart, a Countesse framde by fate,
Throughe scorne abusde, my honour and estate.
No marueile why: For force the Cur to drawe,
The kestrill kyte, to cause the heron to quake,
The rauening wolfe of lambes to stand in awe,
The myllers mare, a mannage good to make,
Or apes to daunce, while mules lie at the stake,
A botelesse toile, in fine you sure shall finde:
For counterfettes will still returne to kinde.
The kestrill kyte, to cause the heron to quake,
The rauening wolfe of lambes to stand in awe,
The myllers mare, a mannage good to make,
Or apes to daunce, while mules lie at the stake,
A botelesse toile, in fine you sure shall finde:
For counterfettes will still returne to kinde.
And thinke you those, that weare dame Fortunes crowne,
Whose homely friends, did hould the ploughe of late,
Can rightly rule, the scepter of renowne?
No, honour stoupes to nature, not to fate:
Yet Fortune heaues, a thousand to estate.
As in good moode, shee did of late by mee,
Who neuer knew, the vse of dignitie.
Whose homely friends, did hould the ploughe of late,
Can rightly rule, the scepter of renowne?
No, honour stoupes to nature, not to fate:
Yet Fortune heaues, a thousand to estate.
As in good moode, shee did of late by mee,
Who neuer knew, the vse of dignitie.
3
As by abuse, one proofe shal well appeare,
First for my pride, my betters did mee scorne,
The poore did fawne, god wot, for very feare,
My luring life, did moue my lord to mourne,
Whose ielous sighes, foreshewed be feard the horne:
Yet wisely hee, his shrewde mistrust to show,
Usde secrete nippes, my faultes to make mee know.
First for my pride, my betters did mee scorne,
The poore did fawne, god wot, for very feare,
My luring life, did moue my lord to mourne,
Whose ielous sighes, foreshewed be feard the horne:
Yet wisely hee, his shrewde mistrust to show,
Usde secrete nippes, my faultes to make mee know.
I saw, and smilde, to see his true mistrust,
And yet in showe, I sight throwe sollen will,
As who should say, to thinke thy spouse vniust,
Thou doest her wronge, she neuer ment no ill,
She hath beene true, and so shee wilbe still,
For all his witte, thus found I out a wile,
To quenche suspect, forsoth a little while.
And yet in showe, I sight throwe sollen will,
As who should say, to thinke thy spouse vniust,
Thou doest her wronge, she neuer ment no ill,
She hath beene true, and so shee wilbe still,
For all his witte, thus found I out a wile,
To quenche suspect, forsoth a little while.
But rauening currs, their chaps can hardly hould,
When carren lies, before their hungry iawes,
The stragling kite, with chickes will sure be bould.
If once a wynge, shee spies a flight of dawes.
Soe ramping girles, regarde no modest lawes,
As profe appeares, by this my filthie flight,
I left my Lord, and stoale away by night.
When carren lies, before their hungry iawes,
The stragling kite, with chickes will sure be bould.
If once a wynge, shee spies a flight of dawes.
Soe ramping girles, regarde no modest lawes,
As profe appeares, by this my filthie flight,
I left my Lord, and stoale away by night.
Who hearing once, of this my gadding moode,
My vitall thread, vntwiste good care (quoth hee)
In fine her hate wil sure sucke out my bloode,
She loues me not, there is no third degree,
Thus ledde with feare, at large hee let mee flee,
I pinchte with neede, to praying forthwith fell,
And for my selfe, I shifted prettie well.
My vitall thread, vntwiste good care (quoth hee)
In fine her hate wil sure sucke out my bloode,
She loues me not, there is no third degree,
Thus ledde with feare, at large hee let mee flee,
I pinchte with neede, to praying forthwith fell,
And for my selfe, I shifted prettie well.
To plant my wares, in place of brauest vewe,
In Pauie towne, a stately house I tooke,
I deckte my selfe, with weedes of lightest hewe,
To lure guestes, I sparde no wanton looke,
Valperga first, was choakt, with Cupids hooke:
Hee sight, hee sobd, hee curst his sorrie chaunce,
Hee surde, hee searud, he did attendaunce daunce.
In Pauie towne, a stately house I tooke,
I deckte my selfe, with weedes of lightest hewe,
To lure guestes, I sparde no wanton looke,
Valperga first, was choakt, with Cupids hooke:
4
Hee surde, hee searud, he did attendaunce daunce.
But squemish then Bianca Maria was,
His secrete sighes with scorne she quited still.
A parle yet, at length, was brought to pas,
Where safely hee, might shew his hidden will,
With sugred wordes, he wraid his suites at fill,
His life, his death, all in my power lay,
I was so kinde to loth this Lords decay.
His secrete sighes with scorne she quited still.
A parle yet, at length, was brought to pas,
Where safely hee, might shew his hidden will,
With sugred wordes, he wraid his suites at fill,
His life, his death, all in my power lay,
I was so kinde to loth this Lords decay.
They say, the mate is apt to mischiefe still,
Whose foule offence, with countenaunce is held,
So wantons forst, with their agreeing will,
When lust assaultes, will after learne to yeald,
No fame nor shame, can make them keepe the field,
To true a proofe, appeareth by mine end:
Then sinne not, dames, in hope for to amend.
Whose foule offence, with countenaunce is held,
So wantons forst, with their agreeing will,
When lust assaultes, will after learne to yeald,
No fame nor shame, can make them keepe the field,
To true a proofe, appeareth by mine end:
Then sinne not, dames, in hope for to amend.
I showe not this, to shape mine owne excuse,
My life I lothe, to salue my fowle amisse:
But for your heed, I blase this vile abuse,
Beware, beware, of Venus beastly blisse,
It feedes the flesh, and sterues the soule I wisse,
It honour staines, it is a shrine of shame,
A bitter sweete that breadeth nought but blame.
My life I lothe, to salue my fowle amisse:
But for your heed, I blase this vile abuse,
Beware, beware, of Venus beastly blisse,
It feedes the flesh, and sterues the soule I wisse,
It honour staines, it is a shrine of shame,
A bitter sweete that breadeth nought but blame.
In mee too late, these faultes I did forsee,
Valperga so, my wanton humour fedde,
My fare was fine, I lackt no goulden glee,
The art of Loue, for exercise I redde,
And thus my life, in Venus court I ledde:
With wealth at will, I could but with and haue,
The toy I lackt, I neede not twise to craue.
Valperga so, my wanton humour fedde,
My fare was fine, I lackt no goulden glee,
The art of Loue, for exercise I redde,
And thus my life, in Venus court I ledde:
With wealth at will, I could but with and haue,
The toy I lackt, I neede not twise to craue.
And think you dames these visards yeld such sights,
As wanton girles may sighe to see their shame,
No: meekenes marres the maskes of fond delightes,
And fasting must, their frolicke bodies tame,
To Scriptures read, they must their leasure frame,
Then loath they will, both lust and wanton loue,
Be sure else, such ryggs my case shall proue.
As wanton girles may sighe to see their shame,
5
And fasting must, their frolicke bodies tame,
To Scriptures read, they must their leasure frame,
Then loath they will, both lust and wanton loue,
Be sure else, such ryggs my case shall proue.
But at my call, why did Valperga stoupe?
Why did not hee, foresee the fruites of lust?
Why did he come, at euery wanton whoope?
Why, why did hee, Bianca Maria trust?
Which to her Lord, had shewen her selfe vniust,
A man hee was, whom weakenes cannot scuse,
How could hee then, let loue him so abuse.
Why did not hee, foresee the fruites of lust?
Why did he come, at euery wanton whoope?
Why, why did hee, Bianca Maria trust?
Which to her Lord, had shewen her selfe vniust,
A man hee was, whom weakenes cannot scuse,
How could hee then, let loue him so abuse.
How could hee (ah:) Perforce I shew my shame,
As one whose tongue, a truth, will neatly tell,
I reaft his life, why slay I then his fame?
No reason why, saue I can nothing well,
For through my lure hee (wonne,) to folly fell,
If not so witcht, who list like case to proue,
Shal find, fine heads, are fraughted first with loue.
As one whose tongue, a truth, will neatly tell,
I reaft his life, why slay I then his fame?
No reason why, saue I can nothing well,
For through my lure hee (wonne,) to folly fell,
If not so witcht, who list like case to proue,
Shal find, fine heads, are fraughted first with loue.
Then sith his ioy, all in Bianca lay,
What scuse hath shee, with hate to pay his loue?
Bee not abasht, the truth in wordes to wray,
Which thou in act, vntimely late didst proue:
What sullen moode, this peeuish scorne did moue?
And am I forst, to shew the fault I shame?
Sith needes I must, Good Ladies, note the same.
What scuse hath shee, with hate to pay his loue?
Bee not abasht, the truth in wordes to wray,
Which thou in act, vntimely late didst proue:
What sullen moode, this peeuish scorne did moue?
And am I forst, to shew the fault I shame?
Sith needes I must, Good Ladies, note the same.
They say, who so with dropsie is aprayde,
The more hee drinckes, the more hee doth desire,
The greedie churle, is neuer well appayde,
Although he reape the gaine hee doth require,
So lust in rampes, is such a raging fire,
That most it heates, when most the same is drencht,
A hellish flame that neuer can be quencht.
The more hee drinckes, the more hee doth desire,
The greedie churle, is neuer well appayde,
Although he reape the gaine hee doth require,
So lust in rampes, is such a raging fire,
That most it heates, when most the same is drencht,
A hellish flame that neuer can be quencht.
6
This fire in mee, was kindled first with pride,
But raysde to flame, with ease and wanton thought,
It raged so, no reason could mee guide,
My husbands sport, so small allayaunce wrought,
As him I left, for lustier laddes I sought:
Valperga then, a while supprest this fire,
But hee decayde, oor chaunge I did desire.
But raysde to flame, with ease and wanton thought,
It raged so, no reason could mee guide,
My husbands sport, so small allayaunce wrought,
As him I left, for lustier laddes I sought:
Valperga then, a while supprest this fire,
But hee decayde, oor chaunge I did desire.
Roberto Sanseuerino Erle of Giazzo, Valpergas great friend, was her second louer. The traynes that intice to loue.
Who forst mee not, his friend hee loued soe,
Hee knew I was Valpergas sole delight.
Hee scornde my winckes, my wanton loue in showe,
My priuie sighes, my wilie signes of woe,
But Spaniel like, by stripes to kindnes moude,
The more hee scornd, the more this lord I loude.
And when I sawe hee shunde inticeing baites,
Immodest rigg, I Ouids counsell vsde,
Where cleanly, I did couler shame with sleightes,
Through loue constrainde, which reason had abusde,
My penne did paint, what bashfull tongue refusde,
Which fewe suffisde, hee knew loue kept no lawe,
Hee was my ioy, of him I stoode in awe.
Immodest rigg, I Ouids counsell vsde,
Where cleanly, I did couler shame with sleightes,
Through loue constrainde, which reason had abusde,
My penne did paint, what bashfull tongue refusde,
Which fewe suffisde, hee knew loue kept no lawe,
Hee was my ioy, of him I stoode in awe.
This proferd grace, did stowpe Giazzo straight,
Hee loude his friend, but more his owne delight,
The hooke of loue, hee swallowed with the baite,
No marueile why: Biancaes beautie bright,
Her braue arraye, and shee a Countesse hight,
Would force a man, himselfe and all forgoe,
And could hee chuse, when loue was offered soe?
Hee loude his friend, but more his owne delight,
The hooke of loue, hee swallowed with the baite,
No marueile why: Biancaes beautie bright,
Her braue arraye, and shee a Countesse hight,
Would force a man, himselfe and all forgoe,
And could hee chuse, when loue was offered soe?
No: neede to runne the creeple sure will teach,
A pleasaunt pray, a theefe inticeth soone,
As foxes hate the grapes, they cannot reach,
And wilie saintes, with showes are seldome wonne,
When as assuerde, their squemishnes is donne.
Euen such a saint, Giazzo proued in fine,
Hee loude no grapes, before hee reacht the vine.
A pleasaunt pray, a theefe inticeth soone,
As foxes hate the grapes, they cannot reach,
And wilie saintes, with showes are seldome wonne,
When as assuerde, their squemishnes is donne.
7
Hee loude no grapes, before hee reacht the vine.
Wel, thus at length, I won my wished ioy,
Hee came, in whome, my heart did wholy dwell,
To make him sport, Bianca was not coy,
She knew her game, and streight to daliaunce fell,
Where as this Lord behaude himselfe so well,
That loe I loath Valpergas drowsy sport,
And so with scorne I stayde his oft resort.
Hee came, in whome, my heart did wholy dwell,
To make him sport, Bianca was not coy,
She knew her game, and streight to daliaunce fell,
Where as this Lord behaude himselfe so well,
That loe I loath Valpergas drowsy sport,
And so with scorne I stayde his oft resort.
Thus reft (good soule) of her hee heald so deare,
His woonted sutes, a fresh hee put in vre,
Hee sight, hee serued, hee lookt with sorrie cheare,
But when no sute, nor seruice could procure,
My stragling loue, to stoupe vnto his lure,
By neede inforst, his dotage then hee reft,
And so with losse, my wanton pleasures left,
His woonted sutes, a fresh hee put in vre,
Hee sight, hee serued, hee lookt with sorrie cheare,
But when no sute, nor seruice could procure,
My stragling loue, to stoupe vnto his lure,
By neede inforst, his dotage then hee reft,
And so with losse, my wanton pleasures left,
When mystes of lusce, were cleared from his eyes,
Disdaine forthwith, transformd his loue to hate,
Fye on my life, and lewdnes, lowde hee cries,
Hee heaues mee vp to filthie Faustines state,
A Layis byrde, for Masseline a mate,
A filth, a flurt, a bitch of Megraes kinde,
A rigg, a rampe, and all that came to minde,
Disdaine forthwith, transformd his loue to hate,
Fye on my life, and lewdnes, lowde hee cries,
Hee heaues mee vp to filthie Faustines state,
A Layis byrde, for Masseline a mate,
A filth, a flurt, a bitch of Megraes kinde,
A rigg, a rampe, and all that came to minde,
But when I heard, my blame, hee blased thus,
Impatient I, began to stampe and stare,
To waile, to weepe, to wring my handes I wous,
To freate, to fume, to teare my golden heare,
In fine, as madd as euer was March hare,
I vowde to reaue Valperga of his life,
Which I performde (aye) me through peeuish strife.
Impatient I, began to stampe and stare,
To waile, to weepe, to wring my handes I wous,
To freate, to fume, to teare my golden heare,
In fine, as madd as euer was March hare,
I vowde to reaue Valperga of his life,
Which I performde (aye) me through peeuish strife.
While sporte was quicke, I did Giazzo moue,
To slay this Lord, in grace which whilome stoode,
But disposest, to winne his owne sweete loue,
Unciuil wretch, accoyde through sullen moode,
Hee blasde mee forth, as byrde of Layis broode,
Leaue off (quoth hee) I loth thy heauie cheere,
Valpergas tongue, shall buy this bable deare.
To slay this Lord, in grace which whilome stoode,
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Unciuil wretch, accoyde through sullen moode,
Hee blasde mee forth, as byrde of Layis broode,
Leaue off (quoth hee) I loth thy heauie cheere,
Valpergas tongue, shall buy this bable deare.
With which suffisde, I fell to kisses straight,
And shewde my selfe, more gamesome then of yore,
To tyce him on, I laide this wanton baite,
But hee which long, Valperga held in store,
Within his heart, my hatred did abhore:
Yet nay the lesse, my loue hee so did like.
As still hee said, hee stayde for time to strike.
And shewde my selfe, more gamesome then of yore,
To tyce him on, I laide this wanton baite,
But hee which long, Valperga held in store,
Within his heart, my hatred did abhore:
Yet nay the lesse, my loue hee so did like.
As still hee said, hee stayde for time to strike.
But when I found, what fine delayes hee vsde,
All sweld, with wrath (quoth I) the prouerbe saith:
Proferde seruice, is euer more refusde,
And offerde loue, is quited syld with faith,
Without the hooke, the baite no poyson hath,
Yet haplie hee, for all his wiles may proue,
My peeuish hate, oore wayes my passing loue.
All sweld, with wrath (quoth I) the prouerbe saith:
Proferde seruice, is euer more refusde,
And offerde loue, is quited syld with faith,
Without the hooke, the baite no poyson hath,
Yet haplie hee, for all his wiles may proue,
My peeuish hate, oore wayes my passing loue.
And in disdaine, the secrete gates I bard,
Where in and out, Giazzo earst did goe,
I tould him plaine, his market cleane was mard,
I ment my faultes, vnto my lord to showe,
If which suffisde, I would no more do so,
To faine with chaunge, I did Giazzo pray,
With kindnes showne, contented for to stay.
Where in and out, Giazzo earst did goe,
I tould him plaine, his market cleane was mard,
I ment my faultes, vnto my lord to showe,
If which suffisde, I would no more do so,
To faine with chaunge, I did Giazzo pray,
With kindnes showne, contented for to stay.
Nigh tyred hee, my greedie lust to glut,
Full wel appayde, for trueth my faynings tooke,
Hee tooke no heede, how often times is shut
In sugred baite, a fowle and filthie hooke,
How hate is hidde full oft, with friendly looke,
Ne how the lewde, when grace is not their stay,
Refuse no meane, to worke their foes decay.
Full wel appayde, for trueth my faynings tooke,
Hee tooke no heede, how often times is shut
In sugred baite, a fowle and filthie hooke,
How hate is hidde full oft, with friendly looke,
Ne how the lewde, when grace is not their stay,
Refuse no meane, to worke their foes decay.
9
Euen such a filth I (forst) confesse I was,
I vsde this showe, to chase my foes mistrust,
Thereby to worke his fatall ende (alas)
When least hee thought, I would haue beene vniust,
Such cankered hate, my murdrous heart did rust,
Unto which ende, I for Valperga send,
With yll, for good, to quite his faithful frend.
I vsde this showe, to chase my foes mistrust,
Thereby to worke his fatall ende (alas)
When least hee thought, I would haue beene vniust,
Such cankered hate, my murdrous heart did rust,
Unto which ende, I for Valperga send,
With yll, for good, to quite his faithful frend.
I knew the force, of new reuiued loue,
Now peeuish hate, more perfect made the same,
I likewise knew, newe friendship how to moue,
With pleasaunt lookes, y mixt with pretie blame,
I checkt him first, for foyling of my fame,
Perdona moy, ore showes againe with viewe,
Deare dame (quoth hee) I yeld, your tale is true.
Now peeuish hate, more perfect made the same,
I likewise knew, newe friendship how to moue,
With pleasaunt lookes, y mixt with pretie blame,
I checkt him first, for foyling of my fame,
Perdona moy, ore showes againe with viewe,
Deare dame (quoth hee) I yeld, your tale is true.
Euen so (quoth I) and smiling vsde these wordes,
Confessed crimes, doth open penaunce chuse,
What plague you please (quoth hee) your thrall accordes,
That hee or you, shall execution vse,
Such power (quoth I) I meane not to refuse,
Yet hoping that, those faultes you will amende,
I pardon all, and take you for my frende.
Confessed crimes, doth open penaunce chuse,
What plague you please (quoth hee) your thrall accordes,
That hee or you, shall execution vse,
Such power (quoth I) I meane not to refuse,
Yet hoping that, those faultes you will amende,
I pardon all, and take you for my frende.
And when I sawe him eager of delight,
A sighe I fetcht, and did Giazzo name,
Valperga said, Giazzo to his might,
Was sure his friend (quoth I) I thinke in name,
But (ah) his deedes, will neuer proue the same,
And though I, loth, to sowe seditious strife,
Yet needes I must, for safegard of thy life.
A sighe I fetcht, and did Giazzo name,
Valperga said, Giazzo to his might,
Was sure his friend (quoth I) I thinke in name,
But (ah) his deedes, will neuer proue the same,
And though I, loth, to sowe seditious strife,
Yet needes I must, for safegard of thy life.
In sooth (sweete friend) thy daungerous state I rew,
This trayterous mate, to moue thine ouerthrowe,
By guile God wot, with mee in frendship grew,
Betwixt vs friends, he first did hatred sowe,
Hee forged faultes, to keepe mee still thy foe,
And yet my heart, for al that hee could say,
Did loue thee well, although my tongue said nay.
This trayterous mate, to moue thine ouerthrowe,
By guile God wot, with mee in frendship grew,
Betwixt vs friends, he first did hatred sowe,
Hee forged faultes, to keepe mee still thy foe,
10
Did loue thee well, although my tongue said nay.
Which when hee smeld puft vp with furie straight,
Hee vowde thy death for robbing of his ioy,
Which bloudie wordes, did force mee to vnfraight,
This bitter speach: Auawnt thou peeuish boy,
Thy filthy sight, Bianca doth annoy.
Beleeue mee, Lord, this tale is very true,
Beginne with him, before hee do with you.
Hee vowde thy death for robbing of his ioy,
Which bloudie wordes, did force mee to vnfraight,
This bitter speach: Auawnt thou peeuish boy,
Thy filthy sight, Bianca doth annoy.
Beleeue mee, Lord, this tale is very true,
Beginne with him, before hee do with you.
These forced wordes, did rayse a soare mistrust,
Or haply else Giazzo might a smoakte,
But yet hee vowde, to feede my filthie lust,
With bloudie blade, his trayterous breath to choake,
And leaue hee toke, hee said to strike this stroake,
But loe hee went forthwith to Mantua,
Unto his friend, these secretes to bewray,
Or haply else Giazzo might a smoakte,
But yet hee vowde, to feede my filthie lust,
With bloudie blade, his trayterous breath to choake,
And leaue hee toke, hee said to strike this stroake,
But loe hee went forthwith to Mantua,
Unto his friend, these secretes to bewray,
Which treason when Giazzo vnderstoode,
Who can auoyde (quoth hee) a strompets hate?
And thundring out, the stormes of furious moode,
With tearmes of scorne, hee did Bianca rate,
Out filth (quoth hee) twixt friends which sowes debate,
And in despight, a libel hee inuents,
Which (Lords) to you, Bianca here presents.
Who can auoyde (quoth hee) a strompets hate?
And thundring out, the stormes of furious moode,
With tearmes of scorne, hee did Bianca rate,
Out filth (quoth hee) twixt friends which sowes debate,
And in despight, a libel hee inuents,
Which (Lords) to you, Bianca here presents.
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