Willobie His Avisa :: :: University of Virginia Library

Willobie His Avisa

Or The true Picture of a modest Maid, and of a chast and constant wife. In Hexamiter verse. The like argument wherof, was neuer heretofore published [by Henry Willoby]

Willoughby, Henry (1574?-1596?)

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Abell Emet in commendation of Willobies Auisa.

In praise of Willobie his Auisa, Hexameton to the Author.

WILLOBIE HIS AVISA,

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The first triall of Avisa, before she was married, by a Noble man: vnder which is represented a warning to all young maids of euery degree, that they beware of the alluring intisements of great men.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

THE SECOND TEMPTATION of Avisa, after her marriage by Ruffians, Roysters, young Gentlemen, and lustie Captaines, which all shee quickly cuts off.

XIIII.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

The third trial; wherin are expressed the long passionate, and constant affections of the close and wary sutor, which by signes, by sighes, by letters, by priuie messengers, by Iewels, Rings, Golde, diuers gifts, and by a long continued course of courtesie, at length preuaileth with many both maides and wiues, if they be not garded wounderfully with a better spirite then their owne, which all are here finely daunted, and mildly ouer throwne, by the constant aunsweres, and chast replies of Auisa.

XXIII.

XXIIII.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

T. B. Being somewhat grieued with this aunswere, after long absence and silence, at length writeth, as followeth.

XXXI.

CANT. XXXI,

XXXII.

CANT. XXXII.

XXXIII.

CANT XXXIII.

DYDIMVS HARCO. ANGLO-GERMANVS.

XXXIIII.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

After long absence, D H. happening to come in on a tyme sodenly to her house, and finding her all alone amongst her maides that were spinning, sayd nothing, but going home wrate these verses following, which he called his Dum habui, and sent them vnto her.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIIII.

XLV.

XLVI.

XLVII.

XLVIII.

XLIX.

LI.

LII.

LIII.

LIIII.

LV.

LVI.

LVII.

LVIII.

LXI.

LXII.

LXIII.

LXIIII.

LXV.

LXVI.

LXVII.

LXVIII.

LXIX.

LXX.

LXXI.

LXXII.

LXXIII.

LXXIIII.

The Authors conclusion.

The resolution of a chast and a constant wife, that minds to continue faithfull vnto her husband.

The praise of a contented mind.

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THE SECOND TEMPTATION of Avisa, after her marriage by Ruffians, Roysters, young Gentlemen, and lustie Captaines, which all shee quickly cuts off.

CANT. XIIII.

CAVEILEIRO.

Come lustie wench, I like thy lookes,
And such a pleasant looke I loue,
Thine eyes are like to bayted hookes,
That force the hungrie fish to moue,
Where nature granteth such a face,
I need not doubt to purchase grace.

I doubt not but thy inward thought,
Doth yeeld as fast as doth thine eye;
A loue in me hath fancie wrought,
Which worke you can not well denye;
From loue you can not me refraine,
I seeke but this, loue me againe.

And so thou dost, I know it well,
I knew it by thy side-cast glance,
Can hart from outward looke rebell?
Which yeaster night I spide by chance;
Thy loue (sweete hart) shall not be lost,
How deare a price so euer it cost.

Aske what thou wilt, thou know'st my mind,
Appoint the place, and I will come,
Appoint the time, and thou shalt find,
Thou canst not fare so well at home,
Few words suffice, where harts consent,
I hope thou know'st, and art content.

Though I a stranger seeme as yet,
And seldome seene, before this day,
Assure thy selfe that thou mayst get,
More knackes by me, then I will say,
Such store of wealth as I will bring,
Shall make thee leape, shal make thee sing,

I must be gone, vse no delay,
At six or seuen the chance may rise,
Old gamesters know their vantage play,
And when t'is best to cast the dice,
Leaue ope your poynt, take vp your man,
And mine shall quickly enter than.

CANT. XV

AVISA.

What now? what newes? new warres in hand?
More trumpets blowne of fond conceites?
More banners spread of follies band?
New Captaines coyning new deceites?
Ah woe is me, new campes are pla'st,
Whereas I thought all daungers past.

O wretched soule, what face haue I,
That can not looke, but some misdeame?
What sprite doth lurke within mine eye,
That kendles thoughts so much vncleane?
O lucklesse fewture neuer blest,
That sow'st the seedes of such vnrest.

What wandring fits are these that moue
Your hart, inragde with euery glance;
That iudge a woman straight in loue,
That welds her eye aside by chance,
If this your hope, by fancie wrought,
You hope on that, I neuer thought.

If nature giue me such a looke,
Which seemes at first vnchast or ill,
Yet shall it proue no bayted hooke,
To draw your lust to wanton will,
My face and will doe not agree,
Which you in time (perhaps) may see.

If smiling cheare and friendly words,
If pleasant talke such thoughts procure,
Yet know my hart, no will afords,
To scratching kites, to cast the lure,
If milde behauior thus offend,
I will assaie this fault to mend.

You plant your hope vpon the sand,
That build on womens words, or smiles;
For when you thinke your selfe to stand
In greatest grace, they proue but wyles,
When fixt you thinke on surest ground,
Then fardest off they will be found.

CANT. XVI

AVISA.

You speake of loue, you talke of cost,
Is't filthy loue your worship meanes?
Assure your selfe your labor's lost;
Bestow your cost among your queanes,
You left not here, nor here shall find,
Such mates as match your beastly mind.

You must againe to Coleman hedge,
For there be some that looke for gaine,
They will bestow the French mans badge,
In lew of all your cost and paine,
But Sir, it is against my vse,
For gaine to make my house a stewes.

What haue you seene, what haue I doon,
That you should iudge my mind so light,
That I so quickly might be woon,
Of one that came but yeaster night?
Of one I wist not whence he came,
Nor what he is, nor what's his name?

Though face doe friendly smile on all,
Yet iudge me not to be so kind,
To come at euery Faulkners call,
Or waue aloft with euery wind,
And you that venter thus to try,
Shall find how far you shoote awry.

And if your face might be your iudge,
Your wannie cheekes, your shaggie lockes,
Would rather moue my mind to grudge,
To feare the piles, or else the pockes:
Yf you be mou'd, to make amends,
Pray keepe your knackes for other frends.

You may be walking when you list,
Looke ther's the doore, and ther's the way,
I hope you haue your market mist,
Your game is lost, for lacke of play,
The point is close, no chance can fall,
That enters there, or euer shall.

CANT. XVII.

CAVELEIRO.

Gods wo: I thinke you doe but iest,
You can not thus delude my hope:

A right Caueleiro.

But yet perhaps you thinke it best,
At first to giue but little scope:
At first assault you must retire,
And then be fors't to yeeld desire.

You thinke, that I would iudge you bad,
If you should yeeld at first assaie,
And you may thinke me worse then mad,
If on repulse send me awaie,
You thinke you doe your credit wrong,
Except you keepe your sutors long.

But I that know the wonted guise,
Of such as liue in such a place,
Old dame experience makes me wise,
To know your meaning by your face,
For most of them, that seeme so chast,
Denie at first, and take at last.

This painted sheth, may please some foole,
That can not see the rustie knife:
But I haue bin too long at schooles,
To thinke you of so pure a life,
The time and place will not permit,
That you can long, here spot-lesse sit.

And therefore wench, be not so strange,
To grant me that, which others haue,
I know that women loue to change,
T'is but deceite, to seeme so graue,
I neuer haue that woman tri'd,
Of whome as yet I was deni'd.

Your godly zeale doth breed my trust,
Your anger makes me hope the more;
For they are often found the worst,
That of their conscience make such store,
In vaine to blush, or looke aside,
A flat repulse, I can not bide.

CANT. XVIII.

AVISA.

Thou wicked wretch, what dost not thinke
There is a God that doth behold
This sinnefull waies, this Sodoms sinke?
O wretched earth that art so bold,
To iest at God, and at his word,
Looke for his iust reuenging sword.

1. Cor. 5.

Saint Paul commands vs not to eate,
With him that leads a wicked life;
Or shall be found to lie in waite,
To seeke to spoyle his neighbours wife,

Reuela. 12.

Such wicked soules God doth forsake,
And dings them downe to fierie lake.

A young man was striken blind for looking dishonestly vpon a godly woman. The Locrenses vse to put out both the eyes of the adulterers. The law Iulia in Rome put adulterers to the sword. The Arabians doe the like.

A brain-sicke youth was striken blind,
That sent his greedie eye to view,
A godly wench, with godlesse mind,
That paine might spring, whence pleasures grew,
Remember friend, forget not this,
And see you looke no more amisse.

O Iulia flower of thy time,
Where is thy law, where is thy word,
That did condemne the wedlocke crime,
To present death, with bloudy sword?
The shining of this percing edge,
Would daunt the force of filthy rage.

Though shamelesse Callets may be found;
That oyle them selues in common field;
And can carire the whoores rebound,
To straine at first, and after yeeld:
Yet here are none of Creseds kind,
In whome you shall such fleeting find.

The time and place may not condemne,
The mind to vice that doth not sway,
But they that vertue doe condemne,
By time and place, are led astray,
This place doth hold on at this time,
That will not yeeld to bloudy crime.

You thinke that others haue possest
The place that you so lewdly craue,
Wherein you plainely haue confest,
Your selfe to be a iealous knaue,
The rose vnblusht hath yet no staine,
Nor euer shall, while I remaine.

CANT. XIX.

CAVELEIRO.

Methinkes I heare a sober Fox,
Stand preaching to the gagling Geese;
And shewes them out a painted box,
And bids them all beware of cheese,
Your painted box, and goodly preach,
I see doth hold a boxly reach.

Perchance you be no common card,
But loue the daintie diamonds place,
The ten, the knaue, may be your gard,
Yet onely you, are still the ace,
Contented close in packe to lie,
But open dealing you defie.

Well I confesse, I did offend,
To rush so headlong to the marke;
Yet giue me leaue this fault to mend,
And craue your pardon in the darke,
Your credits fame I will not spill,
But come as secret as you will.

Nay her's my hand, my faith I giue,
My tongue my fact shall not reueale,
To earthly creature while I liue;
Because you loue a secret deale,
And where I come, I still will say,
She would not yeeld, but said me nay.

So shall your credit greater grow,
By my report a passing praise
And they that scant your name doe know,
Your fame on hie, and hie shall raise,
So shall you gaine that you desire,
By granting that, which I require.

To plant a siege, and yet depart,
Before the towne be yeelded quite,
It kils a martiall manly hart,
That can not brooke such high despite,
Then say you yea, or say you no,
I'le scale your wals, before I go.

CANT. XX.

AVISA.

A fine deuice, and well contriu'd,
Braue Golde vpon a bitter pill;
No maruaile well though you haue thriu'd,
That so can decke, that so can dill;
Your quaintish quirkes can want no mate;
But here I wis, you come too late.

It's ill to hault before the lame,
Or watch the bird that can not sleepe,
Your new found trickes are out of frame,
The fox will laugh, when Asses weepe;
Sweare what you list, say what you will,
Before you spake, I knew your skill.

Your secret dealing will not hold,
To force me trie, or make me trust
Your blind deuises are too old,
Your broken blade hath got the rust,
You need not lie, but truely say,
She would not yeeld to wanton play.

Your tongue shall spare to spread my fame,
I list not buy too deare a sound,
Your greatest praise would breed but shame,
Report of me, as you haue found,
Though you be loth to blow retreat,
This mount's too strong for you to get.

The wisest Captaine now and then,
When that he feeles his foe too strong;
Retires betime to saue his men,
That grow but weake, if seege be long;
From this assault you may retire,
You shall not reach, that you require.

I hate to feede you with delaies,
As others doe, that meane to yeeld,
You spend in vaine your strong assaies,
To win the towne, or gaine the feeld;
No Captaine did, nor euer shall,
Set ladder here, to skale the wall.

CANT XXI.

CAVELEIRO.

Had I knowne this when I began,
You would haue vsde me as you say,
I would haue take you napping than,
And giue you leaue to say me nay,
I little thought to find you so:
I neuer dreamt, you would say no.

Such selfe like wench I neuer met,
Great cause haue I thus hard to craue it,
If euer man haue had it yet,

I sworen haue, that I will haue it,
If thou didst neuer giue consent;
I must perforce, be then content.

If thou wilt sweare, that thou hast knowne,
In carnall act, no other man:
But onely one, and he thine owne,
Since man and wife you first began,
I'le leaue my sute, and sweare it trew,
Thy like in deed, I neuer knew.

CANT. XXII.

AVISA.

I told you first what you should find,
Although you thought I did but iest,
And selfe affection made you blind,
To seeke the thing, I most detest;
Besides his host, who takes the paine,
To recken first, must count againe.

Your rash swore oth you must repent,
You must beware of headlong vowes;
Excepting him, whome free consent,
By wedlocke words, hath made my spouse,
From others yet I am as free,
As they this night, that boren bee.

CAVELEIRO.
VVell giue me then a cup of wine,
As thou art his, would thou were mine.

AVISA.
Haue t'ye good-lucke, tell them that gaue
You this aduice, what speede you haue.

Farewell.