CANT. XLIIII.
Henrico Willobego. Italo-Hispalensis.
[_]
H. W. being sodenly infected with the contagion of a fantasticall fit, at the first sight of A, pyneth a while in secret griefe, at length not able any longer to indure the burning heate of so feruent a humour, bewrayeth the secresy of his disease vnto his familiar frend W. S. who not long before had tryed the cur-
tesy of the like passion, and was now newly recouered of the like infection; yet finding his frend let bloud in the same vaine, he took pleasure for a tyme to see him bleed, & in steed of stopping the issue, he inlargeth the wound, with the sharpe rasor of a willing conceit, perswading him that he thought it a matter very easy to be compassed, & no doubt with payne, diligence & some cost in time to be obtayned. Thus this miserable comforter comforting his frend with an impossibilitie, eyther for that he now would secretly laugh at his frends folly, that had giuen occasion not long before vnto others to laugh at his owne, or because he would see whether an other could play his part better then himselfe, & in vewing a far off the course of this louing Comedy, he determined to see whether it would sort to a happier end for this new actor, then it did for the old player. But at length this Comedy was like to haue growen to a Tragedy, by the weake & feeble estate that H. W. was brought vnto, by a desperate vewe of an impossibility of obtaining his purpose, til Time & Necessity, being his best Phisitions brought him a plaster, if not to heale, yet in part to ease his maladye. In all which discourse is liuely represented the vnrewly rage of vnbrydeled fancy, hauing the raines to roue at liberty, with the dyuers & sundry changes of affections & temptations, which Will, set loose from Reason, can deuise. &c.
What sodaine chance or change is this,
That doth bereaue my quyet rest?
What surly cloud eclipst my blisse,
What sprite doth rage within my brest?
Such fainty qualmes I neuer found,
Till first I saw this westerne ground.
Can change of ayre complexions change,
And strike the sences out of frame?
Though this be true, yet this is strange,
Sith I so lately hither came:
And yet in body cannot find
So great a change as in my mynd.
My lustlesse limmes do pyne away,
Because my hart is dead within,
All liuely heat I feele decay,
And deadly cold his roome doth win,
My humors all are out of frame,
I frize amid'st the burning flame.
I haue the feauer Ethicke right,
I burne within, consume without,
And hauing melted all my might,
Then followes death, without all doubt:
O fearefull foole, that know my greefe,
Yet sew and seeke for no releefe.
I know the tyme, I know the place,
Both when and where my eye did vew
That nouell shape, that frendly face,
That so doth make my hart to rew,
O happy tyme if she inclyne,
If not, O wourth theese lucklesse eyne.
I loue the seat where she did sit,
I kisse the grasse, where she did tread,
Me thinkes I see that face as yet,
And eye, that all these turmoyles breed,
I enuie that this seat, this ground,
Such frendly grace and fauour found.
I dream't of late, God grant that dreame
Protend my good, that she did meete
Me in this greene by yonder streame,
And smyling did me frendly greete:
Where wandring dreames be iust or wrong,
I mind to try ere it be long.
But yonder comes my faythfull frend,
That like assaultes hath often tryde,
On his aduise I will depend,
Where I shall winne, or be denyde,
And looke what counsell he shall giue,
That will I do, where dye or liue.
