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 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
103
The Arbour of Uertue. A VVORKE CONTEINING the chaste and honourable life, of a Bohemian Ladie, to the which is adioyned, the complaint of two Hungarian Barons, that wagerd the spoile of her Chastitie.
VVherein, are the seuerall prayses of certaine English Ladies and Gentlewomen: being the translation, collection, and inuention, of George Whetstons Gent.
Formæ nulla fides.
105
To the right Honourable, and vertuous Lady,
Iana Sibilla Greye, now of
Wilton, George Whetstons, wisheth a longe and happie life.
106
The Arbour of Vertue.
The Argument of the following discourse of Lady Barbaraes vertuous behauiours.
A Boemian knight, named Vlrico, married a vertuous Lady, called Barbara. Vlrico being a little nipt with pouertie, woulde faine haue supplyed his want, by seruice in the warres, which aduenture, he long delayed, through the iealous suspicion of his wiues behauiour, notwithstanding his imaginations quieted, by the direction of a cunning Negromancer, named Pollacco, hee craued intertainment of the king of Hungarie, the king (vouchsafing his request) imployed him in the warres against the Turke: the warres ended, Vlrico (laden with honour) returned vnto the kings court, where one day the Lord Alberto, the Lord Vdislao, and he reasoned of womens behauiours. The Hungarian barons helde opinion, there was no woman so chaste, but might be won to wantonnesse. Vlrico (in his Ladies behalfe) reasoned to the contrarie. In the end, they grewe into this heate of argument, that both the Lordes wagered their landes to his, that if he durst abyde the triall, that the one of them, within two monethes woulde obtaine bodily delight with his wife. Vlrico accepted of their lay, the wager beeing set downe in writing, the King and Queene were both witnesses of the match. Alberto gaue the first aduenture in these louing affaires to winne her to wantonnesse. The Lady finding his humour, by policies (as a theefe that sought to rob her honour) caused him to be imprisoned, where to bridle his wanton affections, she made him to spin for his victuals. Alberto (in hope of libertie) discouered to the Lady the whole wager, and how that the Lord Vdislao would come about that enterprise, who in very deede shortly visited her castle: whome she likewise made foorth comming, and in penaunce of his offence, hee reelde the thread Alberto spon: the King and Queene hearing of their successe, had the Lady in high estimation, awarded Vlrico the lande, and banished the barons for their slaunderous opinion.
Coruinus hight, whose worthy force, a worlde of praises gain'd,
What law & iustice, once had made, throgh rule he neuer broke
He cherisht friendes, he chast his foes, wt many a sturdy stroke,
Ymou'd through zeale, wt clattering armes, he stoupt S. Mahomes pride,
The Turkish crue from Christian boundes, he chast on euery side,
This noble prince vnto his spouse, a gallant Lady chusde.
A matrone in her mayden yeres, such modestie she vsde.
By whom she had three valliant sonnes, three vertuous daughters eake,
Which worthy ympes, in wisdomes lore, did liue without their like.
Besides with haps to heape his ioyes, his subiectes greede so well,
That foes could finde, no hollowe hearts, against him to rebell,
As vassell to which noble king, there was a Boeme knight,
A valiant and a ventrous Lord, Vlrico was he hight.
In prime of force, he plyde the warres, his parents purse to ease,
His parents dead, he home returnd, his tenants pence to fease.
But small was left to pray vpon, his auncestours did desire,
By dint of blade, not bagges of drosse, to honour to aspire.
Which when Vlrico wisely wayde, and wanted on account,
He bent him selfe with hassard life, by seruice for to mount.
But loe by lot, he hit in loue, a wonder small to tell,
Saue that his Ladies vertues did, her beautie braue excell.
Her portion yet (God wot) was small, yet all in wisdome lay,
A dowrie little reackt vpon, where churles doth beare asway,
But Beautie here affection raysde, then Uertue friendship wrought,
These two conioynd, in seemely dame, in loue Vlrico brought.
The earth (quoth he) is sure the Lords, the fruites thereof his wracke.
And may it be, the begger then, shall clawe his seruants backe,
O no, no wight as yet hath seene, the righteous begge his breade,
Although the lewd through foule offence, are often nipt with neade,
And if I should for gaine (quoth he) vnto some wanten bend,
Which venter into Cornewall would, her honestie to send.
Vlrico (haplesse) then should be, a common scorne of men,
Delight to dele, from pleasure paine, should chaunge his fortunes then.
108
He somewhat hath, and more may get, by manhood, and by might,
Thy choise, if once, thou winst thy choice, in spight of Fortunes wracke,
Will saue what thy aduentures gaines, for to relieue thy lacke.
Then maist thou liue in forreine soyle, without a iealous braine,
Then maist thou taste, at thy returne, sweete pleasure for thy paine.
Why standst thou then amasde (quoth he) thy honest suite to moue,
The silent man, the prouerbe sayth, hath sildome hap in loue,
Confesse that constant, long thou liu'dst, y linckt in beauties bandes,
And challenge freedome for thy truth, at thy sweete maistresse handes.
This wayd, Vlrico hies in haste, whereas his Lady liues,
And there her friends in her behalfe, him intertainment giues,
As time did serue, he shewd his zeale, vnto his only ioy,
She likte his words, but more him selfe, how so she seemed coy,
His gallant shape, his vertues straunge, his honour neuer stainde,
His truth once knowne, the truth to tell, her loue, had soone obtainde,
And quickly eake, with friendes consent, them Iunoes rites doth glad,
He had his will, and she her wish, and what would more be had?
The nuptiall feastes, y finished, Vlrico with his dame,
Bids friends adewe, to castle his, they do their iourney frame,
Where one doth rayse the others ioy, one rids the others care,
And thus contented with their choice, in ioy their dayes they weare,
Till neede at length Vlrico nips, who was in spending free,
His rents but small, these two accounts, will hardly well agree,
And yet to poll his tenants poore, his honest mynde doth greaue,
What then, he faine would serue his leage, but loth his wife to leaue.
See here how passing loue is apt, to rayse a iealous feare,
Withouten cause, we so do dread, the thing we hold full deare.
Vlricos mynd, despiseth want, yet dreads to seeke reliefe,
In absence, least his Ladyes chaunge, should worke his greater griefe,
And thus in silence long he mournes, and ebs his ioyes with woe,
Till secrete sighes, and heauie lookes, his inward harmes foreshewe,
Which haply when his spouse espide, to cleare his cloudes of scare,
Sweete heart (quoth she) vnto thy wife, thy hidden sorrowes share,
So shall thy cares abridged be, so shall I knowe thy mynde,
And haply in my counsell thou, some comfort sweete maist finde.
These words Vlrico likte so well, as straight he tels the truth,
109
Mine owne (quoth he) you know my state, or present lacke withall,
Our charge is great, our myndes are high, our liuing is but small,
Of force we must our brauerie leaue, or seeke some way of gaine,
And vayling to the valliant mynde, is sure a matchlesse paine,
This is the meane to mend our want, to serue my souereine leage,
Who now is bent with might and maine, the Turke for to besiege,
Those warres, ere this, I well haue tryde, vnder Cilia Count,
Those warres, I trust, shal force thy feare with wealth, & fame to mount,
But ah (aye me) I loth, yet would, vnfolde what makes me stay,
But sith sweete wench, loue is the cause, allowe what I shall say,
Long wisht, at length I won thy loue, O gem of al my ioy,
As loth I am to leaue thee now, least absence make thee coy.
I call to mynd fayre Helens moode, who trudg'd with Troian knight,
When as her Lord was forst from home, with forreine foes to fight.
The ruffling rout at Ithaca, Vlysses farre from home,
Doth force a thousand fearefull thoughts, within my head to rome.
Then Penelopes constancie, this dread would gladly weare,
She plaste alone, without her leake, a fresh doth raise my feare:
The speach of womans meekenesse eake, my thoughtes doth run among,
And straight my thinkes I motions heare, that do Vlrico wrong.
In mynd I viewe, what batterie is, against thy beautie bent,
In thought I see, what sharpe assaults, in sugred wordes are sent,
What fearelesse othes, what carelesse vowes, do flee, to foyle thy fame,
In fine thou forst, with yealding will, dost blot thy name with blame,
Then rage I straight, ye (harmelesse) gainst, as thogh these toyes wer true
And straight I checke, those raunging thoughts, with reason that insue.
Vlrico fye, why wrongs thy wife, so fouly with mistrust,
Whom hitherto thou couldst not finde, in worde, or deede vniust,
Whose modestie thou seest abhorres, with rufflers for to prate,
To saue thy wealth, whose mynd to worke, giues wanton youth ye mate,
Whose life, with foule and leaude offence, report could neuer spot,
What cause hast thou Vlrico then, her fame with feare to blot?
To breake this brall, faire Barbara (so was this Lady namde)
With prettie nippes, with pardon mixt, this answere foorthwith framde:
Well sayde (quoth she) first faine you feare, to free my shrewd mistrust,
That choise and chaunge, in wanton court, wil make you proue vniust,
110
But to my Lord, if so he please, I yet will shewe my minde,
I long ere this, haue wayde our want, and thought on meanes of gaine,
And sure I sawe, the way for wealth was as you did explaine.
Yet durst I not, vnfolde the same, vnto my louing Lord,
Before his words foreshewd his thoughts, with mine did wel accord,
By seruice you shall credite winne, by seruice likewise fame,
By seruice you shall riches reape, as you deserus the same,
By seruice, fauour with our prince, acquaintance in the court,
You sure shall finde, slacke not these helpes, your wife doth you exhort:
If God with children, blesse our life, their youth from vices freed,
Your credite after in the court, will stand them in some steede,
And in your absence I so well, will to your causes see:
As you shall haue reliefe abroade, sufficient left for mee.
Yea sure, to braue it with the best: yet liue within our boundes,
Such skyll I haue to most auayle, to rate and rent our groundes,
And knowe you once, my hart is high, if liuing, there to stretch,
Yet stoupe I will to please my Lord, to liue as rents will retch.
And thus Vlrico doest thou heare, what thy poore wife can say,
In wealth, in want, abroade, at home, thy she will obay.
Whose modest tale Vlrico heard, with patience to the end,
And sayd, to vse her sound aduise, long earst his thought did tend:
And now I am resolu'd (quoth he) the warres sweete wife to ply,
Let worst betyde that may befall, I sure with fame shall dye.
Yet ere I go, my friends shall know my mynd, and state at large,
But of my lande, my house and goods, none shall but you haue charge.
And in this moode, from friend to friend, so long he did resort,
That at the length Pollaccos skill, he heard by fonde report,
Of whome was sayd by secrete Arte, he could such wonders doe,
As none could worke an acte in thought, but he the same would shoe.
He could informe the louing worme, if his faire Ladie fainde,
Or if she lou'd, yea if she had, her honour euer stainde,
For ramping rigges to Venus ioyes, their nature proane that feales,
He could worke meanes of sport without, a Tympanie with heales.
Strange charmes he had to force them loue, that late to hate were bent,
He could foretell, what hap, what harme, the heauens to vs ment,
With thousand sleights of hidden skill, which I omit to write,
111
Pollaccos learning thus at large, who sayed in his mynde,
To free my iealous head from feare, a meane now shall I finde,
Pollaccos knowes if that my wife, her selfe will faithfull shewe,
Or if she doth her honour staine, I absent, yea, or no,
If in this iourney she be iust, then dread for aye adue,
If she be false, I fellowes haue, whose wiues are founde vntrue,
Once feare, yet frets my hart as sore, as if such fault were wayde,
With that Vlrico postes with speede, to craue Pollaccos ayde.
And comming to his homely house, he doth Pollacco greete,
And craues to speake a worde with him, where he should thinke it meete.
They both vnto a Garden walke, and thus Vlrico sayde,
Your speciall giftes in secrete Artes, to me of late bewrayde,
Compels me now (Pollacco friend) to craue your friendly might:
My sute is small, and yet be sure, great gaine your paine shall quite.
In what I can Pollacco sayd, I rest at your commaund,
Then vse your Arte (quoth he) I pray, to graunt this poore demaund.
Truth is, I meane with speede to serue, my souereine in the warres,
Yet iealous thoughts, I wot not why, with this accorde still iarres,
Sometime my Ladies zeale in shewe, doth banish dread with hope,
But straight againe, mistrust doth giue, to fearefull fancies scope,
And thus to naught auayle, I weare my golden time in woe,
Such is the force of passing loue, to feare for euery showe,
But now Pollacco to my suite, by arte I craue to knowe,
In absence mine, if that my wife be faithfull, yea, or no,
Let worst betide, yet so I shall, my dread exile (quoth he)
Such feates you can, and therfore nowe, let will with skill, agree,
Pollacco masde, to heare this tale, to this effect replyde,
That Science to, her schollers yet, such secretes had denyde,
And how should I, dissolue this doubt, that learned iudges dread,
Conceiue the best, ne wrongs the worst, saunce knowledge of the dead,
And therefore Syr Vlrico cease, your suite surmounts my skill,
What so (quoth he) of skill befalles, graunt but agreeing will,
Whereon Pollacco thus replyde, sith nycenesse will not serue,
I graunt I know by Arte this acte, but vse from lawe doth swerue.
Yet breach of lawe I hazarde will, to free Vlricos dout,
Stay here (quoth he) to worke this feate, I will now go about.
112
So long (quoth he) this forme keepes faire, she liues an honest life,
If yellowe, tempted then she is, if blacke with merrie gayles,
Unto the Cornish mount god buoy in hast, her honour sayles.
This knowne (appayd) Vlrico sayd, in hope thy words are true,
Holde here thy hyre, my hart is easde, and so good friend adue.
Away he goes, and to his wife, his houshold charge commits,
Which done, while winde and whether seru'd, vnto the seas he gets:
Such speede he made, as soone he at Albe regale lands.
The king there lay, Vlricoes suite, who shortly vnderstands,
And gladly intertained him, yea, gaue him pay in peace,
Which grace, when foes inforst in fight, did double force increase,
As proofe ere long appeared plaine, the Turke began to sturre,
Which causde the king to cry alar'm, to chase this gracelesse curre.
The valliant wightes, in armour dight, their forward myndes do shewe,
Each thing prepard for souldiers vse, to warres these gallants goe,
Mustapha Basca, had the charge, of all the princes power,
Vlrico was his Colonel, preferd in happie houre.
Post haste they made, vntill they came, within their enimies sight,
Then bustling to their bloudy tooles, they shewe good willes to fight.
At trumpets sound, the horsemen fling, the shot to skyrmish fall,
The archers with their feathred dartes, both horse and man doth gall.
The furie of the forward wightes, to handie stroakes then bring,
Here houlbards hewe, there bloudy swords, on battered targets sing.
Som faint with wounds, som flee for feare, som fight to saue their friend,
Thus eyther side, king Harrie knockes, both doth receiue, and lend:
The battell long continued hote, each would faine victor bee,
But to be short, for all their force, in fine the Mahomes flee,
The Turke his pryde abated well, and all things quiet made,
Mustapha Basca, and his charge, return'd with honour lade.
The Ladies nowe (with many a kysse) receiue their souereine Lords,
And euery man to see his friend, a buon venu affordes.
In court there doth no triumph want, these captaines to delight,
At iustes, some vse their force in sport, that late did fiercely fight:
Some makes report of wreakefull warres, the blisse, and eake the bale,
Some loytrers in their Ladies lappes, doth tell a wanton tale:
Some haue an ore in others boate, some colours do expound,
113
Syr Vlrico, among this crue, some exercise did vse,
To whome at length Alberto sayde, syr knight, I can but muse,
That you that haue a Ladie faire, two yeares from her haue stayde,
You knowe a womans force (God wot) a long is easily layde,
You knowe that loue with leasure ioynde, makes wantons to be bolde,
She hath her will, health, wealth, and ease, she rules and not contrould,
With all these helpes she sure will wish, to taste some wanton ioy,
Then if she haue her wish at will, thinke you she will be coy?
Whereto Vlrico thus replyde, I answere not for all,
But sure my wife will constant be, what fortune so befall,
She is no gadder farre from home, she helpes not beauties blase,
Her words and workes are modest both, she giues no youthes the gase
With honest exercises still, she fansies fonde preuentes,
To heare my good successe abroade, her carefull mynde contents.
Syr knight quoth Vdislao then, since so you loue your wife,
Beshrewe me if that my reply, do sowe sedicious strife,
You haue enough, what would you more, let others haue a snatch.
Alberto sayde, will he or nill, she would in corners catch:
And to be short, both Lordes affirme, that Ladie liueth not,
If that a wise and valiant knight, her honour can not blot.
Vlrico did deny it flat, they still affirmd it true,
And thus they pleade vntill the queene, their controuersie knewe,
Who for that these barons so wrought, a slaunder to her sect,
Their foolish, rash, and iudgement false, she sharply did detect,
Alberto (fuming at this cheacke) this answere made the queene,
Not for to moue your grace to wrath, our argument hath beene,
Yet if Vlrico like the match, my lande to his I lay,
How that ere twice the Moone hath cast, her horned head away,
I battell will his browes so well, as hornes thereon shall growe,
Prouided that his wife afore, the wager doth not knowe.
And further, if I win her loue, his Ladie so he vse,
As if that she her honour did, in no respect abuse.
The yong Lord Vdislao would, the selfe same wager try,
Vlrico armde him selfe to take, their proffers by and by.
Indentures to assure this match, ingressed were in haste,
The couenants as before exprest, were in the perchment plaste,
114
Th'indentures seald, by either part, and all thinges sure are made.
It was agreed Alberto should, the battering tyre lay,
If Lady Barbara did resist, Vdislao should assay.
With sharpe assault of wanton wordes, to batter downe her praise,
If two monethes shee could make defence, these Lords, their siege should raise,
And lose their liuing for their hire, which smal misliking breedes,
See, see, the fonde effectes of hope, Alberto forward speedes.
And spies in fine the castle walles, wherein this Lady lay,
Who safe arriued at his Inn, streight chaungde his riding ray,
And clothd a newe, as pleasd his minde, it was not longe ere hee,
To see Vlricos castle hyde his heartes delight to see.
To purchase welcome first he tould, Vlricos happie state,
And hauing causes in those coastes, hee durst not passe his gate,
Before hee had, to her his wife, those welcome tidings shard,
To finde occasion to returne, how shee his Lady fard.
Dame Barbara (ioyfull of these newes) requested him to take,
In worth: such intertainment, as her power was to make,
The Lord Alberto made no bones, to be his Ladies guest,
But like a Courtier braue and bould, vouchsafed her request,
Till supper time with honest talke, shee wisely held him tacke,
When supp hee should, of daintie fare, shee sawe he had no lacke,
Alberto (feasted like a prince) prickt forth with pleasaunt braine,
Assayed many times to fall, into some louing vaine,
Dame Barbara though faine shee would, haue broke this botelesse prattle,
Least he should thinke, his welcome heard, did hould him tacite in tatle,
Which courtesie hee construed thus, The Dame that is content,
To listen to a tale of loue, to loue will soone consent:
Forgetting how of force they must, some such discourses heare,
Or to to coy, their friends forsake, which manners will not beare.
But leaue I that, Alberto thought, his match was meetely sure,
And still to stoupe, this modest dame, hee threw his wanton lure,
Hee flattering questions moned oft, shee pretily answerde all,
At length, into his louing sute, hee soberly did fall.
And with a sighe deare dame (quoth hee) admitt my faithfull zeale,
Who forst through loue, must needs vnfould, that faine I would cōceale,
115
That trust mee as I heard you namd, in thought, I thus surmisde,
This Lady staynes, syr Paris rape, in face, in forme and hew,
And as hee lou'd through brute of fame, so I in faith do you,
And try who list, loue wounds so sore, if hee empayreth health,
His thralles can hardly be restord, by reason, witt, or wealth.
Their souereignes grace, must be their salue, naught else cā work their rest,
Unlesse they will abridge their dayes, of both the bads, the best,
I loue I graunt beyond my reach, for to recant I striue,
But loue I must, and loth I am, to liue and die aliue,
My helpe is on my selfe, that I vntimely murther try,
My woes consent, yet haue I vowde in your sweete sight to die.
Despaire hath sped me to this place, my sorrowes to appease,
My tale is tould, you knowe my trueth, preserue mee if you please,
This louing zeale, so sharpely showne, did strike the Lady mute,
Her answere now, was farre to seeke, shee hated so his sute,
Alberto, that did note this chaunge, in words, in lookes and all,
Thought how his shape & friendly shoes, had brought her hart in thrall.
And theretofore to vntie her tongue, hee slily stole a kisse,
She litle said, and yet she thought, there was no woe to this,
And as shee musde, shee found a meane, his follies to reproue,
But yet the feate must {needes} be wrought, with fained shewe of loue,
Which shee so finely counterfets, as if shee lou'de in deede,
Or that her cause of straungenes late, of passion did proceede,
Alberto thus aduaunst with hope, afresh nowe pleades for ruth,
She stands not greatly on his sute, but falls to faine his truth,
The knight (by proofe of pleasures past) when she this issue tooke,
Though sure with sugred wordes, she had deuoured Cupids hooke,
And (as he thought) to free suspect, for othes he spared not,
That neither chaunge, or any chaunce, should him, with falsehood blot,
Fewe wordes to waste, she faind at length, shee was content to loue,
And pointed both a time and place, a pleasaunt tast to proue.
But least by absence from your Inn, quoth she, suspicion grow,
I nowe bequeath you to your ease, when to returne you know.
Alberto luld with thoughtes of ioy, vnto his lodging goes,
Who thinkes, eche houre a yeare till that, the morrowe morning shoes.
Well yet at length, the houre came, that flattred him with grace,
116
Arriued there a pretie minx (directed wel before)
Unto a lodging brought this Lord, and locked fast the dore,
When he was safe awaye she went, for ioy Alberto hopt,
But see, a chaunge, too late he spyde, he was in prison popt,
The windowes made of yron barres, the walles of stone and clay.
A bed he found, but farre vnfit, he thought for Venus play,
Is this a place of ioy (quoth he) O no I am betrayde,
He had no sooner spake these words, but came saire Barbaras mayde,
Who at a grate Alberto calles, to whom she vsde these words,
This is the courtsie syr knight (quoth she) my Ladie you affordes.
First like a theefe sith that you sought, to rob her of her fame,
She hath in prison layde you fast, your lawlesse loue to tame.
And further (to allay your heate) vnlesse you daily spinne,
This distaffe laden full of flaxe, your fare will be but thinne,
This sayd, the distaffe in she throwes, and bad him thus adieu,
My tale is tolde, you knowe your taske, nowe worke as pleaseth you.
Alberto at these sorrie newes, straight to this choller waxe,
Shall I from martiall exercise, fall nowe a spinning flaxe?
Shall I that liu'd at libertie, in prison thus be pend,
Shall I be sys'd of meate and drinke, that late so much did spend?
And shall a Ladie foyle me thus, whose hart the stoutest quaild,
There with he stroue to breake the doores, but small his force auaild.
His griefe but greene with termes of hate, he blam'd this Ladie oft,
And supperlesse so went to bed, which was not very soft,
But in respect of other plagues, he thought the hardnesse small,
Who tyred with tormenting thoughts, a sleepe did quickly fall,
When he had sleapt the night away, and cares digested well,
Sharpe hunger so assayld this Lord, as he to spinning fell,
His goutie and yll shapen thredes, so moued him to smyle,
That well he likt the exercise, his sorrowes to beguile.
At dinner time dame Barbaras mayde, was to Alberto sent,
To share his lowance like his worke, to whome this courtoll went,
And rudely calles to see the yarne, he had that morning sponne,
Alberto (eger of his meate) deliuerd what was donne,
By Saint Marie (quoth this queane) your buswiuerie is good.
And after she had frumpt him well, she fetcht his sorrie foode,
117
In hope of grace, which came so slowe, as he his hope forsooke.
See, yet desire of libertie, see nowe the fruites of neede,
See here how theeues their fellowes peche, see, see, how hope doth feede,
Alberto for dame Barbara sendes, to whom he shewes at large:
The wanton wager, words, and workes, as I haue giuen in charge.
And how that Vdislao would, ere long attempt the like.
Which straunge discourse the Ladie did, into a wonder strike.
Oh God (quoth she) what cause giue I, men should suspect my life,
I neuer clim'd beyonde my reach, I am a louing wife.
And comes there yet another Lord, that would my vertues staine,
Well let him come, he shall abide, hard penance for his paine.
This sayde, she wild the gaylor see, Alberto spinne apace,
His newes thus recompenced were, whome nowe I leaue a space,
To shewe what rumor in the court, in euery corner roung,
Some say Albertos ioyes were such, as loth to part he soung.
Vlrico oft his image viewd, to see what hue it bare,
And all the while it yealowe seemd, he liu'd in perilous feare,
But when it turnd to white againe, what so the courtiers say,
He knewe Alberto had the foyle, and he had won the lay,
The other competitor thought, his fellowes ioyes too great.
So that to haue a share with him, he posted till he sweate,
And posting thus he at the length, Vlricos castle spyde,
And making then more haste then speede, post haste he thether hyde
Who safe arriu'd where he did wish, to make his welcome more,
He had an errant readie stampt, yea two or three in store,
He first commended to this dame, her husbandes happie health,
His speciall credite with his prince, his fame and heapes of wealth,
And how on causes of his owne, into these coastes he came,
And how he heard in happie time, his friend Vlricos name,
And also how not farre from thence, did dwell his Ladie faire,
And howe he bounde by courtesie, to see her did repaire.
The Ladie smiled in her mynde, to heare this currant scuse.
And yet dissembling what she thought, she friendly did him vse.
Yea courteously she crau'd he would, his causes yet adiourne,
And at his friend Vlricos house, with her awhile soiourne.
Her gentle offer to accept, this Lord was nothing nice,
119
Well both (contented, as it seemd) into the castle goe,
Where as faire Barbara glads her friend, with welcomes great in shoe,
She talkt, she walkt, shee satt, she stoode, as likt this gallant best,
Yea many a straunge discourse, did passe, betweene her, and her guest,
In fine to towle, this lord in loue, a sighing shee began,
And asked how Alberto farde, as if shee lou'de the man,
The lord, Vdislao did take, this motion in good part,
Who smyld and said, in secrete thought, Alberto had her heart,
And for to strike her in a mase, quoth hee, I wott not well,
Since last he vew'd these countrye costes, where as my frend doth dwel,
Faire Barbara, as though she feard, this lords welfare did faine,
And is hee not (quoth shee) returnde, vnto your court againe?
This lure thus throwne to worke some hope, in Vdislaos breast,
The Lady broke the prattle off, and fell to feast her guest,
The lusty Hungarian lord, likt well, her kindnes showne,
Yet still he for aduauntage stayde, to make his passions knowne,
Whose subtiltie, when shee espide, t'imbolden him the more,
Against her will, her eyes did seeme, more wanton then of yore,
And trained thus to treate of loue, at length his tongue found scope,
She made it nice, yet not so straunge, but he might feede on hope,
Hee feeding still, on showe of grace, was loth to leaue the feeld,
She faring, as shee likt his talke, by peece meales gan to yeeld.
In fine she fainde how that his sute, had wonne her to agree,
And how shee would sometime that night, her louers lodging see,
Untill which time this frolicke lord, committed her a Dio,
A fainde good night, shee likewise gaue, and wild her seruaunts shoe,
Him, where he should that night be lodgde, whose lodging was prepard,
Next chamber to the prison where, Alberto hardly farde,
Well Vdislao went to bedde, full fraught with secrete ioy,
And still he lookt when his faire dame, would kepe her promist foy,
But all in vaine, he gapt for grace, she glad he had him catcht,
Yet see, the fond conceites in loue, in hope, the night he watcht,
He hard no noyse, no mouse could steare, but streight in thought he smild
O welcome Lady (quoth his heart) but when he was beguild,
He Sopor blamd, for charging her, with to much drowsie sleepe,
But of his faultes, and wager fond, at all he tooke no keepe,
118
When morning came, this comfort came to set his heart at rest,
Dame Barbaras mayde, brought him a reele, and yearne Alberto made,
She tould him he, should reele the same, for that he had assaide
To robbe her Lady of good fame, to her then life more deare,
If he refusde, to doe his taske, he should haue sorrie cheare,
Loke you for neither meate nor drinke, before your worke be donne,
And syr (quoth shee) t'incourage you, the thread Alberto sponne,
Hee is your neighbour, fare you well, I can no longer stay,
These sorrie newes Vdislao nie, out of his wittes did fray,
Alberto toke his pennaunce ill, but he did tenne times worse,
Hee rag'd, he rau'd, the Ladies scorne, himselfe, and all did curse,
But what for that? how so he did, himselfe agreeued feele,
One of these euills, hee needes must chuse, to sterue or else to reele,
And of both bads, the best he chusde, in fine to worke he fell,
His rash attempt, had this successe, which he deserued well.
Nowe that this vertuous dame hath gott, the conquest of her foes,
These lordinges pennaunce for their pride, she to their seruants shoes,
In whose behalfe, her bountie here, I must of force commende,
They wanted not, for daintie fare, how so they fast were pend,
These barons men, (at libertie) streight posted to the Court,
And of their lords imprisonment, there make they large report,
These newes of note, about the Court, went flinging euery where,
So longe as both the king and Queene, these gallants fortunes heare,
The king to learne the certaine truth, to Lady Barbara sent,
His chauncelour, and other Lords, where as they found fast pent,
Lord Alberto and Vdislao, Alberto spinning thread,
And Vdislao reeling it, with fretting well nie dead,
The Lady shewde the newe come Lords the matter all and some,
And how to tame their lawlesse loue, the barons bid this dome,
The Chauncelor what earst is showne, returned to the king,
Whose pleasure was, he should with him, with speede both parties bring
They all arriued at the Court, the king iudg'd out of hand,
Vlrico had the wager wonne, and he should haue the land,
And more against the spoiled lords, with iustice to perseuer,
In penaunce of their lauish tongues, they were exilde for euer,
Faire Barbara, for foyling them, did to this honour mount
120
Whereas she liued many dayes, and holde her wish at will,
Nowe being deade in worthy fame, her vertues liueth still.
Virescit vulnere virtus.
The complaint of the Lorde Alberto and Vdislao, the two Hungarian barons, that vnaduisedly wagered their land, to winne the vertuous Ladie Barbara to wantonnesse: Who hauing the foyle (besides the losse of their liuings) for their slaunderous opinions, were condemned to perpetuall exile.
Come
gallants come, by both our falles take heede,
With our fonde faults, you most infected are,
You worke more wrong, in slaunder then in deede,
And yet in deede, your flatterie worketh scare.
Learne, learne, by vs, too lauish speach to spare,
Large offers though, faire Ladies ofte intice,
Thinke there be dames, that will not vaile to vice.
With our fonde faults, you most infected are,
You worke more wrong, in slaunder then in deede,
And yet in deede, your flatterie worketh scare.
Learne, learne, by vs, too lauish speach to spare,
Large offers though, faire Ladies ofte intice,
Thinke there be dames, that will not vaile to vice.
First mende your owne, ere others faults you blame,
See that your life, before you teach you trie,
Plucke out the beame, that blindes your sighte with shame,
So may you finde a moate in others eye,
What yet you note, reproue not openly,
Obserue this course, heare, see, and say the best,
For lauish words, procureth much vnrest.
See that your life, before you teach you trie,
Plucke out the beame, that blindes your sighte with shame,
So may you finde a moate in others eye,
What yet you note, reproue not openly,
Obserue this course, heare, see, and say the best,
For lauish words, procureth much vnrest.
Had we but wayde, that halfe experience shewes,
We might haue liu'd, in honour as of yore,
The want we waile and warne you by our woes,
The least of which, your hearts would much abhorre,
For what may be, then this a mischiefe more,
Once lustie Lords, nowe prisd at lowest rate,
And free men borne, to liue in banisht state.
We might haue liu'd, in honour as of yore,
The want we waile and warne you by our woes,
The least of which, your hearts would much abhorre,
For what may be, then this a mischiefe more,
Once lustie Lords, nowe prisd at lowest rate,
And free men borne, to liue in banisht state.
121
What noble mynde, whose hands could weapons vse?
Would brooke his handes, should eyther reele or spinne,
To feede on crustes, what foole would not refuse?
Whose coursest fare, a messe of meate hath bin,
In this distresse, perforce we liued in,
Too hard a plague, say you for fault so small,
We thinke not so, that haue indurd the thrall.
Would brooke his handes, should eyther reele or spinne,
To feede on crustes, what foole would not refuse?
Whose coursest fare, a messe of meate hath bin,
In this distresse, perforce we liued in,
Too hard a plague, say you for fault so small,
We thinke not so, that haue indurd the thrall.
For who at full, may value honest fame?
Whose wound so deepe, as his that slaunders carud?
Our slaundrous thoughts, suspected euery dame,
Our slaundrous toungs, sayd all from vertue swaru'd,
For which exile, we worthily desaru'd,
She vsde vs well (whose praise we sought to spoyle)
In huswiues trades, for meate to make vs moyle.
Whose wound so deepe, as his that slaunders carud?
Our slaundrous thoughts, suspected euery dame,
Our slaundrous toungs, sayd all from vertue swaru'd,
For which exile, we worthily desaru'd,
She vsde vs well (whose praise we sought to spoyle)
In huswiues trades, for meate to make vs moyle.
Our lande we lost, by lawe and wager both,
He wonne it well, that ventured for the same,
But worse then these (the which to shewe I loth)
Our follies leaue, a memorie of shame,
Unto vs both, a corsiue to our name,
Well what is paste, too late we call againe,
Sufficeth nowe, we warne with proofe of paine.
He wonne it well, that ventured for the same,
But worse then these (the which to shewe I loth)
Our follies leaue, a memorie of shame,
Unto vs both, a corsiue to our name,
Well what is paste, too late we call againe,
Sufficeth nowe, we warne with proofe of paine.
And knowe ye first, what raisd this slaundrous thought,
Forsooth our liues, in loytring daliance spent,
We other doomde, by faults that they had wrought,
And ioynd with this, their spoyles, by fonde consent,
Which yealded bound, vnto our louing bent,
Did make vs thinke, at euery wanton whoope,
To lures of loue, a Ladie faire would stoope.
Forsooth our liues, in loytring daliance spent,
We other doomde, by faults that they had wrought,
And ioynd with this, their spoyles, by fonde consent,
Which yealded bound, vnto our louing bent,
Did make vs thinke, at euery wanton whoope,
To lures of loue, a Ladie faire would stoope.
What yet we thought, our toungs did sore recoyle,
In slaundring them, our liues for to accuse,
For who so vaunts,, of any louing spoyle,
Confesseth howe, him selfe he doth abuse,
The greatest vice, that worthy mynds may vse.
Deseruing wel, their worth, who should not praise,
Deseruing ill, much lesse a thousand wayes,
In slaundring them, our liues for to accuse,
For who so vaunts,, of any louing spoyle,
Confesseth howe, him selfe he doth abuse,
The greatest vice, that worthy mynds may vse.
122
Deseruing ill, much lesse a thousand wayes,
Oh stay we here, what meaneth our aduise?
When we God wot, so much of counsell neede?
And how againe, shall we vnhappie rise?
Alberto speake, what way shall we proceede?
And art thou mute? Vdislaoes hart doth bleede,
Oh (men forlorne) how wretched is our state?
Whome heauen and earth, oppresse with heapes of hate.
When we God wot, so much of counsell neede?
And how againe, shall we vnhappie rise?
Alberto speake, what way shall we proceede?
And art thou mute? Vdislaoes hart doth bleede,
Oh (men forlorne) how wretched is our state?
Whome heauen and earth, oppresse with heapes of hate.
Who will esteeme, our manhoods and our might?
By Ladies force, to carde, to spinne, and reele,
Where so we liue, all women will vs spight,
And cause they haue, with such disdaine to deale,
Yet plagues ynow, we else in penance feele,
O slaunder thou, on vs these haste brought,
Foule fall the cause, thou harboredst in our thought.
By Ladies force, to carde, to spinne, and reele,
Where so we liue, all women will vs spight,
And cause they haue, with such disdaine to deale,
Yet plagues ynow, we else in penance feele,
O slaunder thou, on vs these haste brought,
Foule fall the cause, thou harboredst in our thought.
Had wretched we, for treason banisht bin,
Some would haue ru'de, our miserie and mone,
But slaundrous speach, is such a hatefull sinne,
As slaunders falls, lamented are of none,
In bookes of shame, their faults are rolld alone,
Their names are scornd, their presence ten times more,
All filthy vice, that all men thus abhore.
Some would haue ru'de, our miserie and mone,
But slaundrous speach, is such a hatefull sinne,
As slaunders falls, lamented are of none,
In bookes of shame, their faults are rolld alone,
Their names are scornd, their presence ten times more,
All filthy vice, that all men thus abhore.
This resteth then, for vs vnhappie men,
To leade our liues, in houltes and vncouth woods,
A hollowe caue, to make our homely den,
To foyle hunger, with apples, hawes, and buds,
For nobles borne, God wot, but sorrie foodes,
There we, poore we, must rue our harmes alone,
Or monsters make, companions in our mone.
To leade our liues, in houltes and vncouth woods,
A hollowe caue, to make our homely den,
To foyle hunger, with apples, hawes, and buds,
For nobles borne, God wot, but sorrie foodes,
There we, poore we, must rue our harmes alone,
Or monsters make, companions in our mone.
O friendly death, our worldly farewell giue,
From hated fleshe, our loathed life diuorce,
Spare them good death, the which in pleasure liue,
And vse at once, on vs thy matchlesse force,
To thee alone, our woes sues for remorce,
When all is done, our helpe remaines in thee,
Then strike with speede, our sorrowes for to free.
From hated fleshe, our loathed life diuorce,
123
And vse at once, on vs thy matchlesse force,
To thee alone, our woes sues for remorce,
When all is done, our helpe remaines in thee,
Then strike with speede, our sorrowes for to free.
In praise of the right H. the Ladie I.S.G. of Wilton.
Where loue affects, or flatterie forgeth praise,There fayles no will, faire Ladies fames to wray,
But Art I lacke, such parciall notes to raise,
Truth guardes the checke, in what I write or say,
And warded thus, when all their wit is showne,
I boldly vaunt (although in barren verse)
This Ladie staines, their Ladies euerie one,
She shewes in workes, what they in wordes rehearse,
Past natures reach (a gift of great imprise)
Her faultlesse life, puts slaunder to his shifts,
And yet she hath what Nature could deuise,
To set a glosse, vpon her gallant gifts,
Besides all this, she hath such fortune lent,
As both commends, and doth her selfe content.
In praise of my L. E. R.
The
pearles of praise, that decke a noble dame,
Exceede the price, of any Iuellers showe,
Yea beauties gifts, are but a glosse of fame,
In vertues soyle, these precious iuels growe,
And that the dame, whome I do here commend,
Hath store of both, my able proofe attend.
Exceede the price, of any Iuellers showe,
Yea beauties gifts, are but a glosse of fame,
In vertues soyle, these precious iuels growe,
And that the dame, whome I do here commend,
Hath store of both, my able proofe attend.
A passing wit is, lodged her head,
The which is deckt, with haires of golden hewe,
Her modest eyes, are sild with gases lead,
And yet they staine, bright Diamonds in viewe,
Her words of worth, doth win her toung such praise,
As when she speakes, the wisest silent slayes.
The which is deckt, with haires of golden hewe,
Her modest eyes, are sild with gases lead,
And yet they staine, bright Diamonds in viewe,
Her words of worth, doth win her toung such praise,
As when she speakes, the wisest silent slayes.
124
Besides her shape, which sightly is in showe,
Her mynd is with, these noble gifts possest,
Her bountie doth, beyond her beautie goe,
A care she hath, to ease the thrall distrest,
Thus is she deckt, and this is she I say,
That weares and beares, these pearles of praise away.
Her mynd is with, these noble gifts possest,
Her bountie doth, beyond her beautie goe,
A care she hath, to ease the thrall distrest,
Thus is she deckt, and this is she I say,
That weares and beares, these pearles of praise away.
In praise of my L. Cecil of Bourlegih.
The
cruell warres, that Nature long did moue,
By force to plucke, good Uertue from her throne,
Appeasd in peace, to shewe the fruits of loue,
Of precious mould, kynde faults to worke anon,
And hauing shapt this seemely dame of clay,
For Uertues helpe, she sent her straight away.
By force to plucke, good Uertue from her throne,
Appeasd in peace, to shewe the fruits of loue,
Of precious mould, kynde faults to worke anon,
And hauing shapt this seemely dame of clay,
For Uertues helpe, she sent her straight away.
When Uertue viewd, dame Natures worthy skill,
With great delight, she kist this Ladies face,
And then (to shewe, that Nature wisht her will)
She posted to, her treasure house of grace,
Her golden shewes, where she good Ladie spoyles,
To decke this dame, thus was she both their toyles.
With great delight, she kist this Ladies face,
And then (to shewe, that Nature wisht her will)
She posted to, her treasure house of grace,
Her golden shewes, where she good Ladie spoyles,
To decke this dame, thus was she both their toyles.
And with these gifts, into the world she came,
Whereas she doth, in worthy credite rest,
Yea sure her life, so beautifieth her name,
As Enuie graunts (who sildome sayes the best,
Her wit, her weedes, her words, her workes and all,
So modest are, as slaunder yealdes her thrall.
Whereas she doth, in worthy credite rest,
Yea sure her life, so beautifieth her name,
As Enuie graunts (who sildome sayes the best,
Her wit, her weedes, her words, her workes and all,
So modest are, as slaunder yealdes her thrall.
In praise of Maistresse M. H. now Bridges.
Beautie with brags of late, wild vertue yeald her thrall,But soone ye Gods to stay their strife; a parlement did call,
And fame wt thundring tromp, was wild their subiects cite,
Be credite of their thrals to shew, who was of grete & might,
Beautie against this day, her prowdest shewes prepard,
125
Their spangels, wrought, a gase eche dame in feathers flauntes,
Their straung attyres, their cuts & cost, foreshewd, their scorneful vaūts,
They looked all askaunce, when beautie claymde, her right,
That loe the Gods amased were, to see so proude a sight.
Anon good Uertue comes, with traine of bashfull Dames,
Whose modest lookes, wrought more regard, then Beauties blasing flames,
A silence now was made, that they their sutes might moue,
Both Ladies sue for souereigne rule, and thus their titles proue,
Proude Beautie vaunts on powre, poore Uertue on desart,
And by your leaue, for all her bragges, the worst had Beauties part.
Her showes were blemisht much, with surfling and such like,
Which knowne, beautie (through feare of foyle) into a mase did strike.
Who gasing rounde about faire Brydges did espie,
Whose seemely feature forme and shape, did much delight her eye,
And scorning other proofe, she Bridges calld in place,
Who (to sett foorth, her sightly selfe) apeard with bashfull grace,
Quoth Beautie: see my toyle, you Gods, nowe iudge aright,
Halfe part with you quoth Uertue streight, my gifts adorne this wight:
For bountie guides her thought, which beautie farre excells,
And pittie rules her noble heart, where pride in Beautie dwells,
To loue, and Lawlesse lust, where beauties lures doe traine,
She winns a calme, yet friendship firme, with showe of chaste disdaine,
A meane contents her minde, where Beautie is extreame,
What botes thee then, good beautie thus, to striue against the streame.
Shee onely shall suffice, if thereto thou agree,
To showe and proue, by dome of Ioue, the best of thee, or mee,
I will (quoth Beautie) stand, to that that Ioue awards,
Ioue waying wel their worthie worke, thus both their toile rewards.
Hee ruled Uertue should, be at wayes best in name,
Yet Beautie during Bridges life, should sway in equal fame.
Loe thus betweene these Dames the bloudie frayes did seace,
But Bridges bore the praise a way, for making of this peace.
The praise of mistresse A. C.
Jf
Troyians stoute, that fought in Hellens band,
Small wayd their liues, their Lady to preserue,
What doubt, what death, what hell should mee withstand,
To worke C. will the captaine that I serue,
Who doth in deede, as farre fayre Hellen passe.
As good, doth bad, or gold the corsest brasse.
Small wayd their liues, their Lady to preserue,
126
To worke C. will the captaine that I serue,
Who doth in deede, as farre fayre Hellen passe.
As good, doth bad, or gold the corsest brasse.
For first shee hath in feauture, forme and face,
What Hellen had, or beautie could deuise,
And therewithall, she hath so chast a grace,
To hold them backs, with fancies fonde that fries,
That (loe) they choose to pine in secrete paine,
Before their sutes, should moue her to disdaine.
What Hellen had, or beautie could deuise,
And therewithall, she hath so chast a grace,
To hold them backs, with fancies fonde that fries,
That (loe) they choose to pine in secrete paine,
Before their sutes, should moue her to disdaine.
She showes them grace, that sorrowes their armis,
Beyonde desert, her bountie doth reward,
Her modest minde, by vertue guided is,
Her sober lookes, doth worke a rare regard,
Although in court, her roume is hie, shee knowes,
Yet likes shee not, to feede on curious showes.
Beyonde desert, her bountie doth reward,
Her modest minde, by vertue guided is,
Her sober lookes, doth worke a rare regard,
Although in court, her roume is hie, shee knowes,
Yet likes shee not, to feede on curious showes.
A care shee hath (which showes, a louing wife)
To loue and like, but what contents her fere,
With these good giftes, commended is her life,
Such one is C. whom I haue praised here,
Euen shee, is shee, denie it who that dare,
That doth both kinds, and vertues iewels ware.
To loue and like, but what contents her fere,
With these good giftes, commended is her life,
Such one is C. whom I haue praised here,
Euen shee, is shee, denie it who that dare,
That doth both kinds, and vertues iewels ware.
In praise of mistresse A. H.
Vaine is the vaunt, that runnes beyonde desert,Small is the praise, that proofe will not commend,
Shame is their fall, that mounteth fames by arte,
Truth is the gard, that writers doth defend,
And Trueth I haue, my naked Uerse to clothe,
But skill I want, this pearelesse peece to praise,
In fairenes who doth passe the Dame in troth,
Whose beautie wrought, the Troyans bloudye fraies,
Withal to showe, what nature did pretend,
127
She wrought such meanes, as vertue doth commend,
Her gallant shape, with worthy giftes of minde,
What would you more, then faire and vertuous both,
That both she is, but search where shee doth liue,
(Beyonde my reach) report their telling troth,
This modest mayde, a matchlesse praise doth giue,
Loe this is al (though further would my will,)
I write of her, for want of able skill.
The saucie pesaunts present, vnto his souereigne mistresse.
Lady
receiue thy pesaunts gift in gree;
(Whose will is much, although his worth be small)
A gift it is, that best beseemeth thee,
Whose vertues hould, thy beauties rare in thrall,
So that, sith that, you liue without a match,
Garde you your fame, with this well meaning watch.
(Whose will is much, although his worth be small)
A gift it is, that best beseemeth thee,
Whose vertues hould, thy beauties rare in thrall,
So that, sith that, you liue without a match,
Garde you your fame, with this well meaning watch.
Thinke that you liue in gase of enuies eyes,
Whose sight doth search, in secretst thought of minde,
Thinke false suspect, about you still hath spies,
Will forge offence, where they no fault can finde,
Thinke deepe disdaine, would blot your life with blame,
For that alone you weare the pearlesse of fame.
Whose sight doth search, in secretst thought of minde,
Thinke false suspect, about you still hath spies,
Will forge offence, where they no fault can finde,
Thinke deepe disdaine, would blot your life with blame,
For that alone you weare the pearlesse of fame.
And yet fayre dame (incountring all their might)
These following rules, if you imprint in minde,
Your enuious foes, shall pine away with spite.
First choose a friend, whose wordes in workes you finde,
With courtesie, a straunger intertaine,
But louing sutes cutt off with chaste disdaine.
These following rules, if you imprint in minde,
Your enuious foes, shall pine away with spite.
First choose a friend, whose wordes in workes you finde,
With courtesie, a straunger intertaine,
But louing sutes cutt off with chaste disdaine.
Thinke sugred wordes as Syrens songes, do wound,
All is not gold, in sight that seemeth gay,
In carelesse trust, is euer treason sound,
Then shunne the baites, that philed tongues do lay,
With proude reuenge, racke not your yeelding foe,
Lest nettels doe, amonge sweete flowers groe.
All is not gold, in sight that seemeth gay,
In carelesse trust, is euer treason sound,
128
With proude reuenge, racke not your yeelding foe,
Lest nettels doe, amonge sweete flowers groe.
Mount with your minde, by Uertue to the skies,
Uaile yet your eares, the mysers a mone to heare,
From all extreames, in spite of enuies spies,
In calme delight, your dayes, so shal you weare,
Thus (souereigne) ends, your sausie pesaunts songe.
Accept it well, or else you do him wronge.
Uaile yet your eares, the mysers a mone to heare,
From all extreames, in spite of enuies spies,
In calme delight, your dayes, so shal you weare,
Thus (souereigne) ends, your sausie pesaunts songe.
Accept it well, or else you do him wronge.
Epilogus.
Loe Ladies heare (if you can vse it well,)An Arbour fenst, from burning fire and frost,
A place it is where pride shall neuer dwell,
Nor fortune worke a mase, doe shee her worst,
A place wherein the worthie dame should liue,
Whom no extreame, may change from vertuous thought,
Euen such a place, my Muse (faire dames) doth giue,
To you, the which, with double toile is wrought.
Here may you see, by lampes of others liues,
A president, to liue in worthie name,
Here may you see, when death your dayes depriues,
In spight of death remembraunce of your fame.
Virescit vulnere virtus.
| The Rocke of Regard | |