University of Virginia Library

When glorious Greekes by cōquest got,
had spoyled Phrigian fieldes:
And vaunting home with victorie,
vpon theyr shining Sheeldes.
When flashing flames of flakie fire,
had Pryames pride opprest:
And Troyan Towers by greedy Greekes,
of pride were dispossest.
The pricke of prayse, the flagge of Fame,
that hight Æneas he:
(Whome Poets fayne Anchises sonne,
and Venus Boy to be.)
Preparde his Ship to seeke the soyle,
which he by fate should finde:
Yet beeing galde with gripes of greefe,
he thus lamentes in minde.
O frowning frowarde Fortune fell,
that kingdomes doost subuart:
Whose whyrling wheele of fickle force,
dooth hate the hawtie hart.
Thou bendst thy browes with lowring lookes,
to heare of mens good happe:
He suppes the sauce of sower releefe,
that lulles him in thy lappe.
Thy fawning face, thy fleering smyles,
thy traynes intyste our trust:
To thinke no feates of forrayne force,
could drowne our deedes in dust.
Our Ilon braue was once the flower,
and cheefe of Asia soyle:
But lawlesse lust of Paris lyfe,
hath brought thy spitefull spoyle.
O Letcher lewde we may lament,
O Helen we may rewe:
For Paris prankes, and thine vntrueth,
our sorrowes doo ensewe.
O would the Woolues with gaping iawes,
as soone as thou wast borne:
With tearing teeth and clasping clawes,
had thee in peeces torne.
Then Troyan Towers had safely stoode,
and Infantes life preseru'de:
Then hautie Hectors head had not,
with traytors knife bene caru'de.
Dephobus, Trouetus, Polites,
with Fame had yet remaynd:
Nor Polixenas blood the graue,
of Achillus had bene staynd.
Then Pirhus had not wrought his wyll,
with Priams aged bones:
To blotte with blood and ashes fine,
hye Ioue his Alter stones.
Thy Princely Pallace finely framde,
and glazde with glittering golde:
Had scapt the scathe of furious foes,
which force of fire did folde.
Our Armors had not bene berayd.
with blood of gushing vaines:
Nor strouting streams had smeard ye streets,
with heapes of dead mens braines.
Our Temples and our sturdy gates,
had not with toyle bene torne:
Ne should the Soyle which suckt vp blood,
haue made such sprouting Corne.
These greefes and grones had we escapt,
had Paris lost his life:
As Sages sad by learned lore
dyd will, to stint our strife.
But Pryam oh, I rew thy case,
and Troy I thee lament:
Whose ripe renowne and rife report,
was through the world Isprent.
By chippes of chaunce thou chosen wast,
to fiftie chyldren Syre:
And yet ere death decreed thy doome,
they dyd theyr endes aspyre.
Thy sonnes thus slaine, thy selfe alas,
wast halde by hoarie haire:
To sacred Temple, where thy corpes
was crasde with spytefull speare.
Thy Queene, and daughter Cassandra.
as Captiues bothe were tane:
And for the gayne of greedy golde,
thy seely sonne was slayne.
O wretched King, whose banefull Boye,
hath thus destroyde vs all:
And on our Regions, Realmes, & Townes,
hath forste this fatall fall.
O Tenedos, that lent our losse,
whose sturdie Oakes were squarde:
To worke our wrong by wicked wyles,
which guilefull Greekes preparde.
Whose hautie Horse procurde our harmes,
that dyd no daunger doubt:
Tyll outwarde showe of Sacrifice,
had brought our bane about.
Yea, through thy grones did grow our greefe
whose shade did shroude theyr sight:
That when we thought theyr Nauies gone,
they straight returnd with might.
Cassandras sawes, we small esteemde,
who Prophecied our shame:
And sayde, the cause of all our care,
should be a Grecian Dame.
When Paris went to Greece shee sayde.
O Brother doo retyre:
You lyttle knowe you goe to fetche,
great flames of flashing fire.
Laacons woordes eke warnde our woe,
his Speare gainst Horse he thrust:
And sayde, you Troyans take good heede,
howe you this tymber trust.
Much canckred crafte contriu'de there is,
within this wylie worke:
For in the compasse of this Caue,
the guilefull Greekes doo lurke.
O that the ground had bene my graue,
when vytall breath I tooke:
Or that before this dolefull day,
my life had me forsooke.
Then should not I haue seene our Towers,
consumde with firie flames:
Nor Infantes slaine at Mothers breasts,
with spoyle of modest Dames.
Then should not I haue seene the blood,
lyke Riuers redde to ronne:
Nor wretched Fathers loose theyr lyues,
each by his murdred sonne.
The hoarie heads with syluer haires,
were pearst with Grecians dartes:
That flowing floods of luke warme blood.
did gushe from out theyr harts.
There might be seene, bothe head and armes,
with many a lustie lym:
Beeing borne aboue the bloody brookes,
in swelling streames to swym.
I saw, I saw, that greeu'd mee most,
my Coosin Hectors corse:
Whose bloody corpes amyd the streetes,
dyd moue me to remorse.
To aged Pryam beeing alyue,
his body then I gaue:
That he might haue the right renowne,
and honour of his graue.
What heart so harde but must lament,
to view this great annoy:
Alas, I can no longer staye,
I must depart from Troy:
O Troy adiew, I wayle thy woes,
I mourne thy heauy plight:
Thou wast not wun by manly force,
but by Vlysses slight.
My Countrey, Kinsmen, and my freendes,
though teares like Seas doo swell:
Yet dead, or lyuing, nowe at last,
I byd you all farewell.
Farewell, thou fertile Phrigian soyle,
where Troy sometime did stande:
Thy walles are waste, thy wealth is worne.
adiew my natiue Lande.

When sighes & sobs had sokte his heart,
and teares were wasted well:
With mouing minde he seekes the soyle,
which fates to him did tell.
To sea warde then with Sonne and Syre,
he frames with iorney faste:
With Countrey goodes, and Reliques braue.
he hyes in all the haste.
His Nauie ready laye at roade,
the Troyans to conuay:
In dreadfull doubt, and daungers deepe,
they tooke theyr wearie way.
Charibdis gulfe, and Scillas sandes,
with safetie they did passe
Yet seuen yeeres space the foming floods,
theyr let of harbor was.
As houering thus in hope they lay,
at last Æneas spyes:
A Hauen for the shrowde their Ship,
from hoarie Hyems eyes:
And lyghting nowe on luckie lande,
he found it Carthage newe:
Whose Princely Portes so finely framde,
dyd glad his eyes to viewe.
Where daintie Dido was addrest,
the Prince to entertayne:
Beseeching of this Troyan Knight,
with her for to remayne.
He waying not of her good wyll,
preparde him selfe with speede:
To looke this Lande, the which by lot,
the fates for him decreede.
Whē sturdy stormes, and striuing streames,
when tossing tydes were spent:
At last on Lauyne coast he landes,
though Iunos brewes were bent.
And in Italia he remaynes,
Lauinia was his Wife:
Of whome he got a worthy sonne,
and then departed lyfe.
Which Iulius Siluius had to name,
that Alba Longa built:
Of whome Siluius Brutus came,
that Fathers lyfe hath spylt.
For which mischaunce he banisht was,
and in this Ile aryu'de:
Wherein he got three worthy sonnes,
or death his lyfe depryu'de.
Yet or the Sisters dyd agree,
his twist for to vntwine:
Hee made deuision of this Lande,
and then was layde in Shrine.
To Locrins lot, the East parte fell,
the other Albanact had:
And Camber gouernde worthy Wales,
whereof he was full glad.
These Princes each possest theyr place,
and dyd this Lande defend:
Tyll Atropos with caruing knife,
her Sisters web dyd ende.
Then Cambria was two Lordships large,
two Lords possest the same:
Of whome, as Stories make recorde,
they were of worthy fame.
In Anglesie the one dyd raigne,
syr Gaulfride stoute he hight:
The other Owen had to name,
in Flint he rulde by right.
This Gaulfride had one sonne calde Charles,
a Lad of lusty lym:
And Owen had a Daughter deere,
in beautie lyke to him.
This Charles Dame Nature had bedeckt,
with goodly giftes of grace:
That all the Arte which she could vse,
she planted in his face.
His flowing tongue Apollo taught,
such sugred speach to frame:
(His stature was so seemely set)
as none can tell the same.
Full twentie yeeres he was of age,
his Beard began to growe:
Then tyme in him by rare aspectes,
great wisdome seemd to showe.
Her name was gentle Iulia,
whose blazing beautie bright:
Like splendaunt Phœbus rayes did shine,
in euerie peoples sight.
I know Apelles could not paint,
her seemely shape and showe:
Though euerie Painter should with him,
theyr perfect skyll bestowe.
Dame Nature seeing her picture braue,
dyd heaue her prayse so hye:
That in the same shee breathed life:
when shee dyd it espye.
Her curled crine dyd farre surpasse,
the glorious glistering golde:
My skill is scant, my wit dooth want,
her fauour to vnfolde.
In yeeres she was nineteene I reade,
yet was her gestures graue:
And modest was she in her talke,
but fewe her vertues haue,
Why should I stand to paynt her prayse,
I want the Muses ayde:
Ne haue I clym'de Parnassus clyffe,
by ceaselesse toyle assayde.
I neuer yet did washe my wittes,
at wise Libethres Well:
Nor scalde the roughe and ragged rocke,
where learned Ladies dwell.
Wherefore come Clio, mee assist,
good Ladies lend your skyll:
That I may showe those Loouers lyues,
with this my barraine quyll.
A Fountaine fayre there is in Flint,
a Riuer rare to see:
Where auncient Brittaines dyd suppose,
some power diuine to bee.
And daylie yet they doo adore,
this auncient sacred Spring:
Whose Uertues of a troth are rare,
and doo much profite bring.
And calde it is Saint Winefredes Well,
for whome theyr yeerely Feast:
With reuerence they yet obserue,
from greatest to the least.
The Lame, the Blinde, the Lunatike,
the Deafe, and eke the Dome:
Unto this cleere celestiall spring,
for succour styll doo come.
Amongst the route, young Charles dooth ride,
this pleasaunt plat to viewe:
And to suruay each seemely shape,
among this comely crewe.
On th' other side Dame Iulia comes,
her offringes to bestowe:
That vnto VVinefred she maye,
her due obeysaunce showe.
To Temple nowe these gallaunts goe,
with Iulia and her trayne:
Where solempne Seruice they did heare,
and so returnde agayne.
Then vnto dauncing they doo fall,
as auncient custome is:
They spende theyr tyme in pleasaunt sport,
ne want of ioye they mysse.
But Charles amyd the thickest throng,
dooth lende his launcing lookes:
To feede his eyes with beauties baytes,
yet fearde no force of hookes.
Theyr beautie he in ballaunce bindes,
and wayes them all alyke:
He thought no dynt of Cupids darte,
her sturdie heart could strike.
At last his eyes he firmely fixt,
on Iulias shape beside:
Whose fauour freshe, and face so fayre,
Dame Nature had bedyde.
He found such sparkes within her face,
as dyd inflame his heart:
Which boylde his brest, with burning brāds,
and bred his smoking smart.
For crabbed Cupid by his craft,
dyd hyde himselfe vnseene:
And gorde the breast of Charles vnwares,
which made his woundes full greene.
Syr Charles who lyu'de at lybertie,
as captiue nowe is caught:
And where he wyst not how to wooe,
now Looue his tongue hath taught.
He knewe her not that bred his bane,
or wrapt his wittes in woe:
His sences now were rockt a sleepe,
her Looue had lulde him soe.
Yet bashfull shame, (the foe of Looue,)
withholdes his tongue to speake:
And faynting feare, had wrought his force,
his minde he durst not breake.
Three thinges there be that hinder Looue,
that's Absence, Feare, and Shame:
And where that these be resident,
there thinges can neuer frame.
Yet he requests with dilligence.
a Tenaunt of her Syre:
What hight her name, who was her Kinne,
that kindled thus his fyre.
Meane space fayre Iulia lookes about,
her wandring eyes doo gaze:
Tyll shee by Fortune found the face,
which made her minde to maze.
On Charles by chaūce, her eyes made choyse,
whose feature shee dyd finde:
(Aboue each showe of humaine shape)
the best to please her minde.
Shee deemed his beames of beauty bright,
dyd passe each wight as farre:
As Titans glystering rayes excelles,
the clearenes of a Starre.
By doome diuine it was decreede,
he should enioye her hart:
Yet knew not shee what wight it was,
that dyd procure her smart.
Thus bothe by lot in looue were lynckt,
there Passions were alike:
One direfull darte by Cupids crafte,
theyr stroke of strife dyd strike:
They straungers were to each vnknown,
bothe languishe for releefe:
And feare dyd force them to be faint,
to shewe theyr gripes of greefe.
Yet shee demaundes what Knight it was,
whose Princely port dyd shine:
Who aunswered her, he was the cheefe,
and heyre of Gaulfrides line.
Which was the Earle of Anglesie,
these woordes dyd glad her hart:
And yet the priuie prickes of looue,
encreast her ceaselesse smart.
On Venus then shee dooth exclaime,
and of her cruell chylde:
Because that through his shiuering shafte,
her pleasures were exylde.
Yet dooth shee thanke Dame Venus grace,
that shee in hart dyd serue:
A worthy Wight, whose vertues rare,
dyd well her looue deserue.
Wherefore O Lady, graunt (quoth he)
that for my loyall hart:
I may rewarded be with looue,
to cease my secrete smart.
Thus bothe attentiue were to view,
to marke each others eye:
If by the sight, some signes might seeme,
the flames for to descrie.
At last theyr dauncing finisht was,
they leaue theyr lyked sport:
And to a Garden gay and greene,
they all foorthwith resort.
Wherein an Arbor they are set,
each one to his degree:
First Charles, then Iulia next to him,
as duetie wyld to bee.
The common crewe with merrie notes,
of syluer sounde doo sing:
That with the Eccho of theyr voice,
they make the Garden ring.
But Charles thus placed in this plat,
with ioye his tongue is tyde:
And shiftes of shame, doo shrowde his speeche,
which should haue looue descryde.
He freendly grypes her tender hand,
his hart dooth leape for ioye:
And chaunge of hewe bewrayes the flames,
that dyd his minde annoye.
For as a glasse presentes each showe,
and makes the Picture playne:
Euen so the eyes and face bewrayes,
what dooth in minde remayne.
When cullor vades and comes againe,
when wandring eyes doo raunge:
These are the certayne signes of Looue,
or of some Passion straunge.
He fayne would speake, but feare bad staye,
and shame retaynd her tongue:
And thus with prickes of Cupids flames,
they bothe alyke were stong.
Tyll Looue at last surpassed shame,
and forced feare to flye:
The blazing brandes that burnd within,
burst out with flames on hye.
Then Charles declarde what grypes of greefe
dyd holde his heauy hart:
What flames of Fancie burnd his breast,
through dint of Cupids dart.
O Iulia, would to God (quoth he)
you knewe my priuie payne:
What secrete sighes and soking sobs,
I for your sake sustayne.
Your heauenly hewe hath wun my wyll,
and pearst my heart so deepe:
That lest you deygne to graunt me grace,
my wayling minde must weepe.
For when I saw your seemely sight,
there flewe from out your eyes,
A spitefull sparke into my heart,
whereof great flames did ryse.
That least you graunt me wished grace,
to ease my groning greefe:
The greedy ground wyll be my graue,
for want of your releefe.
O Lady deere in you remaynes,
to saue or else to spyll:
My life or death, my weale and woe,
dependes vpon your wyll.
With Mercie heale my moning minde,
sith beautie dooth abound:
Let Pittie be the plaster pure,
to cure my inwarde wound.
Else cruell care, with caruing knife,
my vytall twist vntwine:
And dreadfull death dispatch my dayes,
to shrowde my shape in shrine.
Here with the trickling teares dyd trayne,
a long his cherry cheekes:
And sobs to silence him prouokte,
his tongue to talke mysleekes.
When she had heard this trembling tale,
she would haue fayne replyde:
But faultring tongue was glewd so fast,
that it to roofe was tyde.
At last as one from slouthfull sleepe,
which newly dooth awake:
Recouering of her former force,
with trembling tongue she spake,
O woorthy Syr, whome lucky lot,
through destinies decree:
Assigned haue vnto this place,
to thrall my heart so free.
If loyall Looue do burne your breast,
as you by speach professe:
Much more the kindled coales doo blaze,
in me whose force is lesse.
O that Dame Fortune dyd agree,
if that it pleasde your minde:
That lasting lynkes of loyall Looue,
dyd knit the knot of kinde.
Though death should deale his dyrefull dint,
and daunt me with his Dart:
No pinching prickes of pyning payne,
should styrre my minde to start.
Eche greef were game, ech soure were sweet,
eche payne shall pleasure seeme:
All deadly dolors for your sake,
I deepe delyght would deeme
And least you thinke I falsely fayne,
my heart and hand I giue:
To rest your owne in weale or woe,
whyle I on earth doo liue.
You Loouers well may iudge what ioyes,
inflamde his moning minde:
When calme content [illeg.] her will,
the Brydely bandes to binde.
He cryes, O Fortune stay thy wheele,
I haue my hoped hyre:
My will hath wun his onely wishe,
thou fedst me with desyre.
Heerwith theyr solemne sacred oathes,
confirmes theyr faithfull hartes:
And hearts and handes doo knyt the knot,
which nought but death departs.
Bothe Iuno then, and Himen heyghe,
to wytnesse they doo call:
Howe freely they dyd ioyne the bande,
which thrust them bothe in thrall.
By this tyme Phœbus lost his lyght,
and Westwarde dyd decline:
And Vesper nowe the euening Starre,
beginneth for to shine.
O Charles (quoth shee) we must depart,
which grindes my groning greefe:
Tyll tracte of tyme doo yeelde the lot,
to lende vs lyke releefe.
(Quoth he) O Iulia poynt the tyme,
that we may meete agayne:
And if I breake the fixed howre,
let mee the blame sustayne.
Nought else but death, shall keepe my corps,
from out thy seemely sight:
Or if I dye, my wandring Ghost,
shall come to thee by night.
Sayde Iulia then, when Phœbus hath,
three tymes his lyght renewde:
Let not your absence cause my cares,
least pleasures be subdewde.
O Iulia deere, if I (quoth he)
doo swarue from your desyre:
Let mighty Ioue consume my corpes,
with flashing flames of fyre.
With clasping armes they then embrace,
theyr kisses shewe theyr kinde:
A hundreth tymes theyr lyppes doo meete,
to glad each others minde.
Then floods of teares do flowe full fast,
theyr parting was a payne:
Yet hope was hony to theyr harts,
that they should meete againe.
And thus they had each others hart,
which dyd them bothe content:
He hyeth then to Anglesie,
and homeward straight she went.
Where being come, they bothe lament,
the force of Cupids fist:
Whose haplesse hand dyd shoote the shafte,
to wound them ere they wist.
He cryes, O Cupid crafty elfe,
the worker of my woe:
What haue I done, that moues thy minde,
on me thy force to show.
And she exclaymes on Venus vyle,
which lapt her heart in Looue:
And bound her in such bandes of bale,
from which she could not mooue.
Theyr eyes do now forget to sleepe,
through care and dyrefull dread:
They wallowe styll theyr wearie bones,
vpon theyr restlesse bead.
Nowe doo they deeme each day a month,
and euerie month a yeare:
Tyll each of them by plighted vowe,
in poynted place appeare.
Each pleasure nowe procureth payne,
all Musicke seemeth mone:
All wealth is woe, theyr heauy harts,
are gnawde with gripes of grone.
The wished tyme they styll attend,
to view each others sight:
That they might spend theyr tyme in sport,
and lyue in deepe delight.
Three tymes hath Phœbus now repay'de,
his wasted hornes a new:
The wished day is nowe attaynd,
they should each other view.
Then Charles with cheerefull hart is prest,
when Phœbus force was spent:
To hye with haste, least Parents should,
perceyue his close intent.
Nowe Sol was setled in the West,
and Luna gan to shine:
When Charles pretendes to view her face,
whome he in heart dyd shrine.
By trauayle he attaynes the place,
(when Nox was wasted well:)
Where first he found the harmefull heate,
which forst his heart to swell.
But when Aurora in the East,
had cleerde the morning tyde:
Then Iulia longing for this lyght,
to Wynefride shee hyde.
By fayning of due Sacrifice,
they bothe with ioye embrace:
That each of them through free consent,
had wun this wished place.
What ioyes they had, let Loouers iudge,
when bothe at suddayne sight:
Possest the fruites of theyr desires,
vnto theyr deepe delyght.
Euen as the Uine enuyroneth,
the pole which makes them grow:
So they embrace each others necke,
with armes as white as snow.
When sugred toyes of Loouers guise,
betweene them ende dyd take.
Then Charles to Iulia framde his tale,
and thus to her he spake.
O Iulia, would my soyle were set,
within thy natiue lande:
That I each night might shape my course.
to kisse thy tender hande.
So might I homewarde hye with haste,
ere morning lent his lyght:
So might we bothe frequent our ioyes,
vnseene of any wight.
But seeing the stronde withholdes our harts,
beeing lynckt by lots of looue:
Let vs to winne our wished wylles,
some priuie practise prooue.
To binde vs bothe in Bridely bandes,
this is the meetest way:
That we by some deuise allure,
some Preest with hoped pray.
Him to corrupt with heapes of Coyne,
yet close it must be wrought:
That rype report run not abroade,
ere it to passe be brought.
But when by Lawe we lynked are,
if then our Parents knowe:
They waying want of remedy,
wyll graunt it shall be soe.
And though my Parents and my freendes,
disdaine my secrete deede:
In steede of theyr good wyll, I shall,
obtayne a greater meede.
My Fathers wealth, and eke my kinne,
I doo accoumpt them small:
So I enioy thy hydden heart,
I reape reward for all.
Wherfore let not our Fathers wrath,
or care for worldly wealth:
Once moue thy stedfast minde from me,
whereon dependes my health.
For why, ere Luna lose her lyght,
by onely course of kinde:
I wyll prouide a priuie Preest,
our bandes of blisse to binde.
Therefore declare if my deuise,
content your worthy wyll:
Or that you know a better way,
our ioyes for to fulfyll.
When as he thus had tolde his minde,
shee spake with trembling voyce:
O Syr (quoth shee) my wits are weake,
I put it to your choyce.
The great good wyll I beare to you,
my hews bewrayes the same:
And though that Women weaker be,
my heate exceedes your flame.
Where Femine doo prefire theyr Looue,
no measure they obserue:
They fasten then theyr faith so sure,
that they doo neuer swarue.
Assure your selfe what I haue sayde,
my deedes shall playne expresse:
For tyme shall trie that trusty trueth,
shall not from words degresse.
For why, the giftes of Natures grace,
which I in you doo finde:
Your Uerues, and your forme so fine,
haue wun my inwarde minde.
No marueyle tis that I am caught,
in Cupids suttle snare:
Sith that the Wight that holdes my heart,
in beauty is so rare.
My Looue is such, that least through lot,
we lyncked are by Lawe:
Fell Atropos wyll cut the threde,
which Lachesis dooth drawe.
Sith I haue vowde to be thine owne,
thy purpose do dispatch:
For none beares breath, but onely thou,
with whome I wish to match.
Ere that a month therefore be past,
I wyll attentiue bee:
According vnto promise plight,
your quicke returne to see.
My Iulia deere doubt not (sayth he)
full soone I wyll retyre:
For to content your freendly minde,
with fruites of your desire.
And in meane space as Loouers vse,
on hope we styll wyll feede:
Tyll poynted tyme be fully runne,
whereon we haue decreede.
By this tyme Phœbus sturdy steedes,
doo lodge in Occident:
When these two Loouers nowe must leaue,
the sport which thus they spent.
With heauy cheere they then embrace,
theyr clasped armes they close:
What heauy sighes and sobbes they spent,
my pen cannot disclose.
With greedy grypes he culles her corpes,
full lothe for to depart:
Farewell my Iulia deere (quoth he)
I leaue with thee my hart.
Syr Charles (quoth shee) although my corps,
be hyd from out your sight:
I yeelde also my heart to you,
your goodnesse to requight.
And thus they bothe prepare to packe,
he spares no spurres to speede:
Shee backward throwes her lingring lookes,
her fancyde eyes to feede.
But when shee lost his sight at last,
her teares gan gushe a mayne:
Her heauy heart was then opprest,
with pynching prickes of payne.
Shee curst the tyme that Nature first,
dyd lende her lucklesse lyfe:
Shee wisht her Nurse, had reft her breath,
by dint of bloody knyfe.
Shee curst her mouth that tooke the foode,
which dyd her corpes sustayne:
And wisht some poyson in her pappe,
that might haue bene her bayne.
At last retaynd by reasons rule,
her selfe shee homeward sped:
Where being come, shee wylles her mayde,
for to prepare her bed.
Whereon shee thought to take her rest,
and fall to quiet sleepe:
But carking care, and groning greefe,
prouokte her eyes to weepe.
That downe the teares lyke drops doo raine,
on bed whereas shee laye:
And to her selfe in whyspering sort:
at last shee gan to saye.
If I should marie secretly,
ere Parents knowe the same?
What should I purchase to my selfe,
but onely lasting shame?
What? should I match my selfe with him,
whome thrise I neuer sawe?
Tush Iulia, tush thou art to rashe,
therefore thy minde withdrawe,
Least it be sayde, thou art a Chylde,
that lyu'ste deuoyde of awe?
Shall I my Mothers curse deserue?
whereat I ought to quake?
Shall I lose Parents, Kithe and Kin?
all for one Straungers sake?
Or shall I put my honestie,
into a Straungers hand:
Who would perhaps misuse me then,
when as I were in band?
To whome then might I make my mone,
or gape for hope of grace?
Who would assist me hauing wrong,
or pleade my carefull case?
No, no, my wyll shall cease to wade,
to worke my Parentes woe:
My hasty head shall leaue his hope,
to frame my ruine soe.
This sayd, she pausde, & straight wayes dooth,
her tatling tongue reprooue:
For spytting out such woordes of spight,
gainst him whome she did looue.
Should I (quoth shee) vngratefull seeme,
to such a woorthy Knight?
Who on the gayne of my good wyll,
dooth fixe his whole delight?
Within whose faithfull heart so true,
dooth lodge such loyall looue?
Whose Uertue rare, and seemely shape,
the stonyst heart might mooue?
Should I then haue a flinty heart,
lyke to my Countreyes name?
Or should I to a courteous Knight,
be found a thanklesse Dame?
No, no, in wealth, or else in woe,
in myrth, or else in mone:
In pleasure, or in pinching paine,
tyll death I am his owne.
Tyll whose returne (I liue in teares,)
expecting wished ioyes:
When Mariage locke, shall linck our hearts,
to driue out darke annoyes.
When teares & swelling sighes were slakte,
Morpheus dooth appeare
Syr Somnus with his sleeping slights,
dooth close her eyes so cleare.
Her minde is then deuoyde of care,
(For sleepe dooth ease the hart:
Whome greedy gripes of groning greefe,
dooth sinke in Seas of smart.)
At last Aurora with his lyght,
the cloudy Skies dooth cleare:
And blazing Tytan with his beames,
in East dooth strayght appeare.
Then dooth shee ryse from carefull coutche,
shee takes her Booke in hand:
Wherein shee reades her priuate Prayers,
as dyd with custome stand.
But still her rowling eye dooth raunge,
in thousands thriftlesse thoughts:
To think on Charles, dooth chaūge her cheere,
thereby her greefe is wrought.
But leaue we Iulia nowe a tyme,
for why my quaking quyll:
Shall nowe reuert, to paynt his greefe,
whome cutting cares dyd kyll.
When he had past her Fathers Port,
and parted was her sight:
In ryding he espyes a Hyll,
whereat he dyd alight.
Such dollors deepe dyd him distresse,
such suddaine sorrowes swell.
As mazde his mynde, that flat on ground,
in pytteous plightis he fell.
And thus with cryes he cleanes the clowdes,
Oh gentle Death (quoth hee:)
Come shut these wyndowes of my mynde,
this lothsome lyght to see.
O Heauens, where are your thunder boltes,
and flakes of flashing fire:
For to consume my carefull coarse,
which burnes in hote desire.
O Earth doo gape with mighty mawe,
and swallowe vp my coarse:
Some hasty hande; dispatch my dayes,
and rew me with remorse.
As thus he powrde his pittious plaints,
his wastlesse woes to weepe:
His sooking sighes, and wearyed teares,
prouokte his eyes to sleepe.
Dame Venus then to him appeares,
thus sleeping as he laye:
And thus shee spake (O Charles quoth shee)
awake with speede I saye.
Why doost thou so with troublous thoughts,
and stormes of sturdy strife:
Torment thy selfe for her, which shall
remayne thy wedded Wife?
The noysome night is neerely spent,
stand vp therfore with speede:
For why, to hye the home in haste,
the tyme requireth neede.
This faynting feare that frayes thy heart,
denyes thou art a man:
And yet thy shape dooth shewe full well,
the arte that Nature can.
Ungyrde thy minde of inwarde greefe,
let wisedome welde thy wyll:
Thy loue is thine (doo not dismay)
and so shee shall be styll.
With that he starteth vp amazde,
releast of inwarde payne:
And hopte assuredly of helpe,
through this his vision vayne.
And beeing perfectly awakte,
he tooke his prime prospect:
Unto the coast where shee was lodgd,
that dyd his heart protect.
O luckie Land, O Flint (quoth he)
thrise happy be the howre:
That I to fixe my feebel feete,
in thee dyd finde the powre.
Thou harborest her that hath my heart,
and shall tyll death agree:
To shryne mee in my shyuering sheete,
what so betyde of mee.
With that a clowde of smoking sighes,
he sendes to her amayne:
To signifie her loyall looue,
dyd so procure his payne.
Then to his man he calles for Horse,
he hyes him home apace:
That he may wynne his Fathers Court,
ere Phœbus showe his face.
And by that tyme he had aspyrde,
vnto his hasted home:
Bright Lucifer the morning Star,
about the Skies dooth rome.
He wylles his man to make his bed,
whome he dooth chardge full straight:
Not to disclose his secrete walkes,
which was a thing of waight.
And there in bedde he dooth deuise,
where he a Preest may finde:
That may procure his wished wyll,
and ease his carefull minde.
At last, supprest with sluggish sleepe,
he takes a nappe or twayne:
And then he starts from stately bed,
to cloathe him selfe agayne.
And ere he had him selfe addrest,
the Sunne dooth South declyne,
The clocke strykes twelue, the boord is layd,
and it is dynner tyme.
It were too long for to expresse,
the chaunge of costly cates:
For seru'de they were, as dooth become,
the stay of noble States.
Let it suffise that they were set,
and into talke they fell:
Of this and that, I knowe not what,
nor dyd not marke it well.
But well I wot, Charles lyked not,
to heare theyr tedious talke:
For all that whyle his wandring wittes,
a thousande wayes dooth walke.
He sate so sadly in his dumpes,
with armes enclosde to breast:
That men might think some cause there was
that bread his great vnrest.
His Father and his Mother bothe,
doo fixe theyr eyes on him:
They muzd what clowds had clipst his mirth
or made his ioyes so dym.
And thus his Father gan to speake,
my Sonne, I maruayle much:
What moones thy minde to myrthlesse cheere
or makes thy gestures such?
Hath lynkes of Looue, by Cupids crafte,
inchaynde thy heart by chaunce?
Hath Venus vayne inuolu'oe thy minde,
in her delyghts to daunce?
Hath fancie fettered thee so faste,
that thou canst not reioyce?
Then tell me who, and what shee is,
whereon thou makste thy choyce.
His Mother eke, whose tender care,
was ouer him not small:
Desyres him tell, what chyppe of chaunce,
by sorie happe dooth fall.
That ere the wound be waxen stale,
shee may a salue prepare:
To heale the harmes that holdes his heart,
and for to cure his care.
Theyr woordes doo much amaze his minde,
the blood dooth stayne his face:
A signe of seemely shamefastnesse,
and token of good grace.
And thus to them with reuerence due,
he dooth replye agayne:
My Parentes bothe, you gesse amysse,
your iudgementes are but vayne.
No shiuering shafte of Cupids crafte,
nor force of Fancies faine:
Hath any force to crushe my coarse,
my pleasures to consume.
I coumpt but vyle of Venus vaunts,
her beauty is but blacke;
It cannot dym my christall sight,
nor pluck my pleasures backe.
I haue my health I thanke the Heauens,
with cares ne am I clad:
My minde is stuft with inwarde myrth,
although I seeme so sad.
And then be throwes a forced smyle,
to dryue their mindes from dout:
Least they might else surmyse the trueth,
which made him seeme so stout.
By that they thus had spent the tyme,
the dynner came to ende:
All ryse with course of courtesie,
with shortnesse to extende.
The Lordes and Ladyes doo delyght,
at Chesse to spende the tyme:
And some reuolue the auncient bookes,
was writ in British ryme.
Some Dice, some Carde, some Hunt, some Hawke,
as best content their minde:
And euery one to passe the tyme,
some pleasaunt play doo finde.
But Charles enchaynd by thrystles thoughts
the day in care consumes:
And wisheth Nox for to approch,
that sleepe may ease his sames.
Which beeing come, his former woes,
withholdes his eyes from rest:
He turnes and tosseth too and fro,
to ease his carefull brest.
At last Aurora lendes her lyght,
and Titan dooth display:
His gladsome beames to each mans eyes,
that couets for the day.
Syr Charles that longed for the lyght,
from carefull couch dooth ryse:
And then howe he might finde a Preest,
he dooth all meanes deuyse.
By happe it came into his minde,
of one whome he dyd knowe:
Which was his freende, and vnto whome,
he straight for helpe dyd goe.
Requesting him to yeelde supplie,
for to releeue his case:
Because in him dyd onely rest,
his hope of wished grace.
Protessing then if he would graunt,
to comfort him in neede:
He would requight his great good wyll,
with fruites of treble meede.
In you (quoth he) remaynes my helpe,
and lengthning of my lyfe:
And you alone can ease my greefe,
and stint my inwarde stryfe.
Wherefore as I may rest your freend,
in after tyme to come:
So lende releefe to ayde my lacke,
then shall you heare the some.
The Preest replyed with reuerence dew,
good Syr, what lyes in me:
My lyfe and death is ready prest,
at your commaund to be.
If I may pleasure you in ought,
expresse the fame with speede:
And heere I vowe in what I can,
I wyll support your neede.
And if it doo concerne such things,
as must be needes conceald:
Though death should daūger me with doubt,
it shall not be reueald.
Wherefore detract no longer tyme,
here is bothe heart and hand:
In weale or woe, I wyll not sticke,
your helper for to stand.
Charles lyked well his faythfull heart,
and thought him selfe thryse blest:
That Fortune stoode so much his freend,
to graunt him wished rest.
With thousand thankes for his good wyll,
which he had not deseru'de:
Protesting then his kindnesse great,
his lothed lyfe preseru'de.
Wherefore (quoth he) with lystning eare,
attende vnto my tale:
So shalt thou heare my lyngering ioyes,
which breedes my bytter bale.
It was my lot to lyght in place,
where Ladyes dyd resort:
Amongst the which I spyed out one,
of most surpassing port.
Whome Natures arte so finely framde,
with such excelling glee:
As would intrappe the stoutest heart,
her featured forme to see.
The shyning shape that Venus shewde,
on toppe of Ida Mount:
Was nothing to her Princely port,
of whome I make account.
In whome such vertue dooth remayne,
to matche her heauenly face:
As makes me iudge shee dooth excell,
Pandora for her grace.
Whose seemely showe, with manners milde
when I had marked well:
Withdrewe the freedome of my minde,
to bondage straight I fell.
The bandes of beauty which shee bare,
with woordes of curteous talke:
Within the walles of her good wyll,
inclosde mee for to walke.
Wherin I sought to pleade my case,
but shame my tongue dyd stay:
Yet burning Looue quight vanquisht shame,
and forced feare away.
So that my teares dyd tell my troth,
when woords might wade no more:
What should I say, I wun her wyll,
the salue of all my sore.
Shee plighted faith, I gaue my troth,
to rest her owne in lyfe:
Now nought remaynes but Mariage state,
to make vs man and wife.
Wherfore deere freend, here is contaynd
the sum of my request:
(Sith with your function if dooth stand,)
that you would doo your best.
To linke vs bothe in outwarde lawe,
which inwardly remaine:
One heart within two bodies now,
so shall you ease our paine.
Syr, sayde the Preest, though your request,
may well procure my blame:
If lucklesse lot, should giue such cause,
your Parents know the same.
Yet for the comfort of your heart,
as for my promise sake:
I wyll fulfill your hearts desire,
your secrete bandes to make.
But if shee be no equall match,
nor fit for your degree:
I would be lothe to worke your wyll,
for why, we dayly see:
That where vnequals coupled are,
is great debate and strife:
And seedes of such dissencion stroyes,
the graftes of quiet lyfe.
My freend (quoth Charles) you neede not dout.
shee is of noble state:
Her Parentes and her Kinne descende,
(the trueth for to relate.)
From out the best of Brittish blood,
and Owen is her Syre:
In Flint he rules, and raygnes as Earle,
whome I alone desyre.
If shee be such as you declare,
Syr Charles I am content:
To ioygne you bothe in Nuptiall bandes,
if each of you assent.
Wherefore let dreade of froward happe,
no whyt dismay your minde:
What I haue sayde I wyll performe,
though death were me assignde.
I neede not heere expresse what meede,
the Preest dyd then obtayne:
His ritch rewards might well suffise,
for to requight his payne.
They bothe depart when this was done,
each to his seuerall home:
But Charles beeing clad with calme content,
in pleasaunt thoughts dooth rome.
And nothing else dooth vexe his minde,
but tediousnesse of tyme:
(For euerie day dooth feeme a yeere,
when looue remaynes in pryme.)
He blames the sonne of ceaselesse sloth,
that lendes so long his lyght:
And would the Moone were wasted cleane,
that dooth prolong the night.
O Titan, Titan, (he exclaymes,)
when wylt thou runne thy race:
I lothe the bryghtnesse of thy beames,
which doo annoy my face.
Nowe dooth he wish some suddaine traunce,
each ioynt for to benome:
And by some Charme to lose his sprites,
tyll fixed day doo come.
Somtyme he hopes of luckie happe,
then daunger byds him doubt:
And thus twixt hope and faynting feare,
his tyme he weareth out
Such is the [illeg.] of Venus thralles,
where lothsome Looue remaines:
To hope the best, and feare the worst,
(loe, such is Loouers games.)
Betweene his hope and furious feare,
his pleasaunt cheere decayes:
His sprites are duld with carefull thoughtes,
his fleshe consumes away.
His countenance declares his greefe,
his strength beginnes to waste:
His ioynts waxe stiffe, his lymmes are sore,
such turmoyles he dooth taste,
His comely carcasse waxeth faynt,
with greefes and dayly grones:
His seemely shape is nowe become,
a heape of shackling bones.
The heart whome cutting cares dooth crushe,
and thyrling thoughts dooth thrall:
Is subiect vnto sicknesse sore,
but feuers moste of all.
For care dooth waste the heart of man,
and bringes the body lowe:
As they that feele the force thereof,
full perfectly doo knowe.
So Charles his greefe to Feuer growes,
his fittes procures his paine:
The percing prickes of Agues panges,
tormentes him euerie vaine.
Whereby he forced is to tell,
his dollors deepe disease:
That thereby he might finde redresse,
his sicknesse for to ease.
Nowe lyes he tossing on his bed,
sometyme with cares opprest:
And sometymes shakte with Feuers fits,
which makes him sore distrest.
His Parents mourne his present state,
they seeke for Phisickes arte:
They spare no charges to suppresse,
the terror of his smarte.
No Potions, Oyntments, Salues, or cures,
no Simples, nor Compounds:
Nor Medicines made, by Phisickes skyll,
his furious fittes confounds.
His Father tendring of his state,
bewayles his carefull case:
And sayth, my Sonne I doo perceyue,
your sorrowes by your face.
I wist of late you were not well,
when I your face dyd view:
Your minde that tyme declarde your greefe,
by suddaine chaunge of hew.
You are attatcht with lothsome looue,
and subiect to his lawe:
Whose furious force subdueth those,
whose yeeres are greene and rawe.
Declare therefore what so shee be,
thou shalt haue my consent:
And doo not thus with troublous thoughts,
thy carefull heart torment.
His Mother lykewise dooth lament,
her sore diseased sonne:
Her trickling teares along the bed,
lyke rushing Riuers ronne.
Shee dooth desire to knowe his greefe,
but all theyr talke is vaine:
Theyr wasted woordes doo more encrease,
his dollor and his payne.
(For many woords dooth greeue the sicke,
which peeuish are by kinde:
As small occasions soone prouoke,
an vncontented minde.)
Therefore Syr Charles requests his Syre,
and Mother in lyke case:
(Least that his presence moue theyr greefe)
for to depart the place.
Perswading them they vexe his minde,
with theyr continuall mone:
And that he should obtayne some sleepe,
if that they once were gone.
His wofull Parents leaue him then,
as lothe him to molest:
Whome ceaselesse smart of sicknesse sharpe,
had nowe so sore opprest.
When they were gone, he sighes, he sobs,
and rayles on Fortune blinde:
Dispayring least that sicknesse should,
his poynted knot vntwinde.
Nowe dooth he wishe that Iulia knew,
his sicknesse and his payne:
So would shee not misdoubt his looue,
nor thinke that he did fayne.
For sicknesse seldome couenaunt keepes,
mens honestie to saue:
He pulles a man from myrth and ioy,
and rowles him to his graue.
Thus Charles amid his noysome nyppes,
dooth welter all in woe:
And dooth desire the winged Time,
with lyngering steppes to goe.
That he might haue his former health,
his plighted vowe to saue:
Before the time prefixed paste,
his full concourse should haue.
But Time regardes no state of man,
he slily slippes by stealth:
And tedious is to patients greeu'de,
yet seemes but short in health.
The yeere dooth waste, his course runs on,
Dame Phœbæ dooth againe:
Remoue her former wasted hornes,
and shines full bright and plaine.
Nowe Iulia dooth with watching eye,
for Charles returne attende:
Perswaded that this wished tyme,
should former sorrowes ende.
Now shee prouides such needefull thinges,
as dooth to her pertaine:
And thus each day shee stoode in hope,
of his returne againe.
But when shee sawe that trustlesse hope,
dyd naught at all preuayle:
Then shee misdoubts that Charles his fraude
hath caus'de his faith to fayle.
A thousand thoughts doo thrall her minde,
some times shee hopes the best:
Then blames him straight, with breach of faith,
and calles him guilefull guest.
Some times shee thinkes some other Dame,
had wun his wyll to chaunge:
Againe, shee deemes some other let,
dooth hinder him to raunge.
But when shee sawe the poynted tyme,
to be so farre Ispent:
And that her hope was frustrate now,
contrarie to consent.
Shee writes to him these folowing wordes,
and willes him to beware:
Least VVynefrides plague for his vntroth,
dooth breede his ceaseles care.

The Letter of Iulia to Charles.

Though lyngering long I trusted to thy loue,
in hope thy deeds shold firm thy wasted words
Yet now I deeme thy wauering mind doth moue,
I beat the bush, an other gets the byrds.
The plighted tyme thou dydst appoint to meete,
is now expirde, and thou hast broke thy vowe:
Ne hast thou sent, by writinges me to greete,
whereby the lesse, I doo thy deedes alowe.
The mighty Gods vouchsafe that Wynefride.
doo not requite thy falsehood with desart:
For stayning so her Temple with a deede,
whose false effect, dooth merite treble smart,
Yet nay the lesse though thou be false of faith:
my hart shall styll remaine thine owne for aye,
Hap weale or woe, hap life or direfull death:
I will no whit from fixed promise straye.
And so adiew, the Gods doo thee forgiue,
though thou by fraude hast bred my harts anoy:
Yet doo I vowe, while I on earth doo liue,
to pray the powers to graunt thee lasting ioy.

This done, shee closde it vp with speede,
and secretly shee sendes:
A messenger to Anglesie,
who straight his voyadge bendes,
Who being come to Gaulfrides Court,
to Charles he doth present:
(Who lay full sicke vpon his bed)
this Letter which shee sent.
When as he knewe the same to come,
from Iulia his (so deere)
He felt his Feuer fits to faint,
through newe reuiued cheere.
When he had read her Letter through,
which dyd his tariaunce blame:
He calde for pen and ynke to write,
an aunswer to the same.
Wherein he showes his cause of stay,
and that he meanes lykewise:
To firme his vowe, when to his state
of health he shall arise.

The replie of Charles to Iulia her Letter.

With treble thankes I greete thee heere againe,
whose willīg hart doth wish my lastīg welth
Soregreu'd in minde, that chance doth me retain,
and heauy hap doth so withholde my health.
Wherby the cause of thy conceite doth ryse,
though no desart may driue thy minde to dout:
Yet my distresse apparaunt to thine eyes,
shall driue the cause of such suspicion out.
The trust that thou reposedst in my looue,
shall not be voyde, nor frustrate in effect:
For why, my deeds shall plighted promise prooue
if mighty God my lyngering life protect.
Thou beatest the bush, and shalt the birds obtain,
none other wight shall haue my hart in holde:
Though time be past, yet time will come again,
for to fulfill the vowed tale I tolde.
I am no Paris, nor of Theseus broode,
ne yet am like to Iason most vniust:
But Pyramus to spende my dearest blood,
or I to Thisbe would be false of trust.
I trust that Wynefride wyll no hate conceiue,
sith by the powers my let alone proceedes:
Let her the guilty from their ioyes bereaue,
and not the faultlesse suffer for their deedes.
It is not I, but Fortunes froward fate,
that filde my hart with fits of Feuers force:
That if thou shouldst but view my present state,
thou wouldst pronounce, I am som sēceles corse.
But if the Gods vouchsafe my health to render,
I wyll fulfill my former faythed vowe:
Then shalt thou know how I thy loue do tender,
though false suspect retaines thy sences now.
And thus adiew in hope of health at hand,
tyme shall at last, inchayne our bodies fast:
Though absence thus do cause our greefes to stād,
yet lyngering ioye will dubble be at last.

This Letter made, the messenger
of Iulia he dooth lende:
Desiring him vnto his Dame,
with hart him to commende.
Who straight to Flint dooth hye apace,
his message to discharge:
Who being gone, Charles feeles his fittes,
of Feuers to enlarge.
This night he takes no rest at all,
such greefe his entrayles teare:
His heauy heart thus long opprest,
with wastfull woe dooth weare.
The messenger by this came home,
whome Iulia longd to vewe:
Saluting her with Charles his lynes,
which dooth her ioyes renewe.
She shut the doore, least some should spie,
the Letter which was sent:
Which done, she hasted it to reade,
and straight the seale she rent.
With fingers fine as white as snowe,
she rippes, and reades the same
With watchfull eyes, as houering Hawke,
dooth praye vpon her game.
But when she findes howe Agues fittes,
hath shakte his hart so sore:
And howe his corpes consumed is,
with sicknesse more and more.
The brynish teares dooth wet her cheekes,
her sight to reade they stoppe:
The Christall streames in trickling wise,
lyke siluer dewe dooth droppe.
But when the spring of watrie droppes,
was dried vp through want:
To reade his deepe lamenting lynes,
her tender hart dooth pant.
Perusing them, shee sighes and sobbes,
to ponder his estate:
Her Isie cares and brandes of looue,
doo breede in breast debate.
Alas (shee sayde) what dooth it neede,
to adde vnto my smart:
The least of these my cutting cares,
may kyll a womans hart.
I thought that I had past the pykes,
and feelde of fighting grones:
But nowe I see I haue to runne,
a campe of ceaseles mones.
And where I thought that mariage Rytes,
should yeeld me gaine for greefe:
I see the dartes of Death at hand,
which breedes my sorrowes cheefe.
My freende in paine (oh furious fates)
nowe fie on Fortunes wheele:
Sith I a wretche and simple soule,
her pinching paines shall feele.
But sith what destinies decree,
of force must be fulfilde:
My patient minde shall beare each brunte,
as Princely powers haue wilde.
And thus as shee lamenting was,
her greefe, and carefull case:
Her sorrowes now began to swadge,
shee wypte her watrie face.
And foorth shee comes with fayned cheere,
in countenaunce full glad:
Although the thoughts of Charles his greefe,
dyd make her heart full sad.
Thus carefully shee driues the tyme,
with secrete sorrowes painde:
Now this, now that tormentes her minde,
as Fancies humors raynde.
But ere seuen nightes space were spent,
shee longes to knowe againe:
Of Charles his state, and how his greefe
of Agues doo remaine.
Shee tooke her pen as ready prest,
to him againe to write:
For whome in panges of endles paine,
shee languisht day and night.
But ere shee had fulfilde her minde,
in wryting of her byll:
Such carefull newes dooth cut it off,
as made her want her wyll.
Wherefore perpend her wauering state,
howe Fortunes wheele doth raunge:
But first peruse her carefull lynes,
then marke their storie straunge.

Iulia her Letter to Charles.

I haue receyued your dolefull lynes,
which vnto me you sent:
Which greeuous newes when I perusde,
dyd much my minde torment.
Within your Letter lapped was,
a frosen clod of care:
Which freesde my hart with chylling colde,
to reade your sicknesse rare.
And though I doubted your deceyt,
to lyke an other Dame:
Yet pardon me. Looue hath no lawe,
for Fancie moude the same.
For heapes of care, in those abounds,
which coupled are with feare:
And ielous Looue doubtes more then needes,
as trueth can witnesse beare.
But sith my Fortune is so harde,
I would some other wight:
Had reapt your looue, so should you not,
with Feuers fittes be fright.
Or else I would I might sustaine,
the halfe of all your greefe:
So should I ease you of some cares,
and heale my sorrowes cheefe.
But if that death by direfull dint,
should lose your lew of life:
Or sisters three should cutte your twist,
by fatall sharpned knife.
My gastlie goast shall follow fast,
to the Elisian feeldes:
Vnto the sight of seemely Saintes,
which endlesse pleasure yeeldes.
Yea, though it were in Charons boate,
downe Stigian streame to slide:
My sprite shalbe thy walking mate,
what so of me betide.
And when the ground shalbe my graue,
I wyll haue graued thereon.
This mornefull vearse, in dolefull wise,
vpon my marble stone.
Vnder this stone dooth Iulia lye.
to Charles a faithfull freende:
VVho vvillinglie to shewe her trueth,
her carefull life did ende.
The Ladies that heereafter liue,
shall knowe by Iulias looue:
Howe faithfull shee to Charles remaind,
and neuer did remooue.

When shee thus farre had past her pen,
in came Alecto fell:
Some grym Mægæra, stoong with lyes,
a fearefull tale to tell.
He rushing came into the Hall,
and sayde that Gaulfrides sonne,
Had yeelded vp his mortall lyfe,
his finall race was runne.
He dyd not onely say the same,
but sware by sollem oath:
The brute thereof once throughly spread,
it was beleeu'de for troth.
The cause wherfore this lye was spread,
was this as I haue read:
That Charles into a traunce did fall,
and was reputed dead.
His face was colde, his breath was gone,
no lyfe in him appeares:
They wrong his ioyntes, they bowde his breast,
they thumpe him on the eares.
They poure warme licquor down his throte
his iawes they open wide:
And so reduced him to lyfe,
through that he did abide.
And yet the rumor rashly ranne,
his life was past all cure:
So swiftly lying Fame dooth flie,
as tatling tongues procure.
Hereof arose this lothsome lye,
but (oh) you Ladies mourne:
For now vnto a dolefull tale,
my style I must retourne.
For now as Iulia was applyed,
to pen her inwarde paine:
In came her Maide with gasly lookes,
and cryed out amaine.
O Madame (quoth shee) heauy newes,
I haue to you to showe:
To thinke whereon, my faynting heart
dooth melt through wastfull woe.
What newes (quoth Iulia) lyfting vp
her sight (from paper straight)
Hast thou to shewe, expresse the same,
and let me heare them straight.
The Maide replyed, Sir Gaulfrides sonne,
that Charles hath to name:
By death is now departed lyfe,
as bruted is by fame.
This pearst her hart with deadly smart,
this agrauates her paine:
Nowe doth shee lothe her lyngering life,
and doth the same disdaine.
Her quiuering quyll, from quaking hand,
in faynting sort doth fall:
Shee floong away bothe incke and pen,
and paper therewithall.
And foorthwith dooth commaund her Maide,
for to auoyde the place:
Who being gone, shee scryketh out,
in most lamentfull case.
Shee rentes her haire, shee beates her breast,
her blood from face is gone:
Her hollowe lookes declarde her greefe,
that made her minde to mone.
Shee dooth deuise which way to dye,
for life shee lotheth styll:
Dispayre byds her make no delay,
but seeke her selfe to spyll.
Yet faynting feare of femine hart,
dooth fray her from the fact:
And dreade of Gods, wylles her withholde,
from such a wicked act.
At last shee dooth exclame one fate,
and Fortunes waywarde wheele:
That forced her in steede of ioye,
such nypping cares to feele.
O Heauens (quoth shee) what lowring lot,
of most vnluckie happe:
Hath moou'd such furie to my chaunce,
to trayne me in this trappe?
O mightie God, vouchsafe (quoth shee)
thine cares for to encline:
Let dreadfull Death thy messenger,
shut vp my corpes in shrine.
Let me not liue, sith he is gone,
that should my life support:
For Death is sweete, and Life is sowre,
where care is cheefe comfort.
It were too long to write her plaintes,
and carefull scriching cryes:
Or to expresse what floods of teares,
dyd flowe from out her eyes.
But straight amyd these passions straunge,
from Chamber shee dooth part:
And walkes the feeldes adioyning neere,
for to refreshe her hart.
Where being come, in mornefull wise
shee dooth her greefe relate:
That hyls and dales, with woods and groues
may knowe her ruthfull state.
Her wasted wordes, like Eccho dooth,
amyd the Trees resound:
And with her teares like morning dew,
shee wets the grassie ground.
And thus shee walkes, tyll Phœbus lampe,
had lost his loouely lyght:
Then to her Chamber shee returnes,
to waste the wearie night.
Upon her Princely bed foorthwith,
shee throwes her carefull corse:
Where blacke dispayre assaylde her straight,
with fittes of treble force.
A thousand meanes shee doth deuise,
to sheare her lyne of life:
Some times with coarde, some times with drinks,
some times with caruing knife.
At last shee staide her staggering minde,
with purpose full decreede:
Ere Sol aboue the Horizon,
dyd cast his glauncing gleede.
To VVynefrides Temple for to goe,
her prayers for to make:
And ere that thee came home againe,
her lyfe there to forsake.
Euen there shee dyd determine sure,
where first shee found the flame:
The water of her wicked deedes,
should quickly quench the same.
As Phillis ended vp her dayes,
with twyne of silken corde:
So would shee leaue her lothsome life,
which shee so much abhorde.
Thus raging in these restlesse thoughts,
tyll lyghtsome morning tyde:
Shee straight vpstart, and goes about,
her offerings to prouide.
With Incense and such needefull thinges,
to VVynefride shee hyes:
To execute her fancied fact,
which she did late deuise.
The way was short, not past a myle,
she hasted thether straight:
And into Church the roundly goes,
her matters were of waight.
She kneeling downe in humble wise,
within that wonted place:
Where all such sate as did discende,
of worthy Owens race.
Her prayers done, she gins to pawse,
vpon her lewde pretence:
And howe the same to Parents hers,
might breede a fowle offence.
Besides the blotte of blacke defame,
that on her kinne should lyght:
With losse of honour to her selfe,
and Ladies fowle despight.
Considering this, her minde dooth chaunge,
vnto an other way:
And nowe she findes an other pathe,
to frame her owne decay.
And thus perplext with thousand thoughts,
to VVynefride she cryes:

O virgin thou, whose flyttering fame,
dooth pearce the azurde Skies.
Whose glorie glaunceth like the gleames,
of golden Tytans rayes:
Whose Dyans deedes deserue the pricke,
of sempiternall prayse.
Bowe downe thy eares to thy handmaide,
that dooth not life desire:
But that the sisters three vouchsafe,
my death for to conspire.
My twist they haue drawne foorth too long,
which should haue taken ende:
when direfull destinies decreede,
to spoyle me of my freende.
But sith the fates so furiously,
haue refte him from my sight:
In whome consisted all my hope,
of solace and delight.
Should I desire to feed my corpes,
with faynting breath perdie:
And he ingrupled in his graue,
on whome my life dooth lie?
How should I waste my wearie time,
in ioye or wonted mirth:
VVhen wrauling woorms do crase his corps,
within the massy earth?
O would I were some sencelesse beast,
deuoyde of reasons kinde:
So should I feele no fittes of paine,
for to torment my minde.
I would Diana would decree,
to graunt me Acteons state:
So Sorrowes Houndes should hale my hart,
out of this dire debate.
Vouchsafe O Ioue that guidst the Sphæres,
to reaue from me my life:
That I may ende this carefull course,
which breeds my guiltlesse strife.
And graunt the gasping earth that gapes,
for all thinges that she gaue:
May lodge my coarse that faine would rest,
within her swallowing caue.
Let me for Courtlie garments gay,
possesse a winding sheete:
And let my cyndred moulde in earth,
be troden downe with feete.
O let my dolefull Dirge be song,
in steede of Mariage feast:
And for my costlie spowsall Cowtch,
lay me in graue to reast.
And where that Hymen should vs knitte,
in Iunos bandes for aye:
Alecto and Mægæra bothe,
let them in presence staye.
And where Lucina should obtaine,
a place by roome of right:
Their Tisiphone shall remaine,
with lookes of fowle despight.
O graunt the same you heauens I craue,
my prayers heare with speede:
For I by death wyll lose my life,
sith fates haue so decreede.

When she had vttered foorth her plaints,
then homewarde straight she went:
Withhelde by some celestiall power,
from former fowle intent.
To Chamber backe she dooth returne,
ere any rose from rest:
And round about her Chamber runnes,
with carefull thoughts opprest.
And when the householde ready were,
she willes her Mayde goe call
One of her Fathers men foorthwith,
whome she must speake withall.
To whom she saith, you know where dwels
the Ioyner not farre hence:
Request him for to come to me,
for I must needes comence
With him about a certayne thing,
The seruaunt goes straight way:
And brought the Ioyner vnto her,
that dyd his comming stay.
Who being come, to him she sayth,
my freende I you request:
Such cunning as you haue to shewe,
and doo for me your best.
For I would haue a Chest so made,
that neyther ayre nor showre:
No rayne nor waters flood it should,
in any place deuowre.
But being shut, to keepe all foorth,
by meanes of pitche and tarre:
This would I haue you doo with speede,
no tyme for to defarre.
And I wyll recompence your paines,
vnto the vtmost part:
That your requitall shall exceede,
the full of your desart.
The Ioyner aunsweres her againe,
with reuerence due likewise:
O Madame mine, my skyll herein,
your purpose shall suffise.
I wyll so frame your Chest, that rayne,
nor waters washing wane:
Nor mistes of foggie ayre shall come,
in this contriued caue.
So sone as homewarde I returne,
to worke thereon I meane:
So that or three dayes be expyrde,
it shall be finisht cleane.
And so he tooke his leaue of her,
and homewarde dooth returne:
And she being galde with former greefes,
beginnes a freshe to mourne.
The ceaselesse teares along her cheekes,
a printed pathe haue made:
Her inwarde cares hath forced quite,
her outwarde hew to vade.
Tormented thus with grislie greefe,
her Chamber she dooth keepe:
And solytarilie she sittes,
her wayling woes to weepe.
And when that wearinesse constraines,
abroade her to soiorne:
Her woes doo make her walkes but short,
she makes a quick returne.
But when before her Parentes face,
she dooth appearaunce make:
She noynts her face with fine perfumes,
her sorrowing signes to breake.
But least I should too tedious seeme,
the Ioyner comes at last:
With pitched Chest, most closely framde,
the water for to cast.
And Iulia payes him doubble hyre,
his paines for to requight:
He takes the same with treble thankes,
and so departes her sight.
But when that Phœbe spread her light,
within the Welkin hye:
Her Mayde and she conuayes the same,
(when none coulde it espie)
Unto the shore, the Sea being neere,
this secretly was wrought:
As for the Maide, of her deceyt,
God knowes but lyttle thought.
But she pretendes a farther fetch,
when midnight flood drawes neere:
A desperate deede, she hath decreede,
as you foorthwith shall heare.
When man and beast, and each thing else,
theyr naturall rest dooth take:
When as her Maide with all the house,
Sir Somnus sleepes doo shake.
When whistling windes doo cease to blowe,
when waters rage are styll:
When wauering leaues, on shaking Trees,
doo stay and cease to spyll.
When twinkling Starres amyd the skies,
most glysteringly doo shine:
And euerie thing declares the night,
hath wun his middle time.
Then desperate Iulia dooth aryse,
and ventreth foorth of doore:
Where she her cursed Coffin found,
harde by the salt Sea shore.
But oh, drawe neere you Uirgins all,
you Ladies heere beholde:
A trustie Dame, the faythfulst hart,
yframde of womans moulde.
She stoode vpright within the Chest,
which waues yet moued not:
And casting oft her eyes to lande.
she thus lamentes her lot.

O God that gouernst heauen and hell,
the Sea and the drie lande:
Vouchsafe for to receyue my soule,
into thy gratious hande.
Which soule I first to thee bequeathe,
that long hath lodgde in moude;
And durtie drosse of clottered clay,
my body to the floode.
And sith the soule of my deere freende,
hath runne his mortall race:
I hope our shapeles ghostes in Skies,
with ioye shall bothe embrace.
And for the solemne sacred oath,
that we on earth haue made:
Though direfull death by destinie,
hath causde our promise fade.
Yet doo I trust amyd the heauens,
we shall the same fulfill:
Where ioyntly we may bothe enioy,
thy Princelie presence still.
You Parentes, and my freedes adiew,
I byd you bothe farewell:
Bewayle not you, nor weepe my want,
that needes no passing bell.
Keepe not my funerals with wayles,
nor moist my death with teares:
For why, my coarse shall want no wet,
seeing Seas such moisture beares.
Though Fishes shall feede on my fleshe,
my Dirge shall Syrens sing:
The freendlie fishe that Dolphin hight.
me to my graue shall bring.

By this her barge on wallowing waues,
dooth swym in ruthfull wise:
And she aloofe in Seas alas,
to heauen dooth lyft her eyes.
Desiring God in mercie great,
for to beholde her case:
When as the byllowes against her boate,
dooth bounce and beate apace.
The waters driue her to the deepe,
and floods sometime flash in:
Whose Isie colde to her full straunge,
dooth wet her tender skin.
But she alas dooth lye along,
within this hollowe wombe:
And fastened fare the vpper part,
of her vntymelie Tombe.
At last syr Boreas with his breath,
dooth driue her Ship from shore:
Which swifter slides vpon the Seas,
then Boate by force of Ore.
Her body thus inclosde therein,
in quiuering sort dooth quake:
Lyke as the wauering Aspen leafe,
by Notus blaste dooth shake.
And when Titonia dooth appeare,
to driue away the night:
Her tossed Bardge in midst of Seas,
is seene in open sight.
This day to Flint was day of doome,
this blacke day had no lyght.
This troublous tyme encreast their cares,
and made their day like night.
This was beginner of their greefes,
and ender of their ioyes:
This day dyd holde their heauy harts,
in heapes of deepe annoyes.
But when that Iulias Maide began,
from sluggishe sleepe to rise:
And coulde not finde her Misteresse there,
great feare dooth her supprise.
She runneth vp and downe the house,
enquiring of each wight:
If they did not her Misterisse see,
since morning lent his lyght.
But when no worde of her she hearde,
she rent and tare her haire:
And to her Parentes ranne foorthwith,
these ruthfull newes to beare.
She tolde them of the pitched Chest,
that she to shore had brought:
And howe that of her meaning then,
no whit at all she thought.
These newes dyd so amaze their mindes,
theyr colour ginnes to vade:
Such quaking feare within theyr hartes,
these tydinges true haue made.
Their lothsome lookes declares their greefe,
and dooth expresse their paine:
His greefe was such as could not weepe,
she spent her teares amaine.
Theyr household folks, and neighbors by,
bewayles theyr heauy happe:
And doo lament theyr lucklesse losse,
at such a suddaine clappe.
They all foorthwith in mornefull wise,
to sea warde doo repayre:
Whose yelling cryes and scriching soundes,
dooth fill the emptie ayre.
The wambling waues, the crooked creekes,
theyr sorrowing cries resounde:
The belowing breath yt breaks theyr brests,
dooth make the bankes rebounde.
The Mother when she sawe the print,
of Chest engrau'de in sandes:
Dyd fall downe straight into a sowne,
and stretched foorth her handes.
And when she was reuokte againe,
vnto her former state:
With faynting voyce, she thus gan speake,
why hindred you my fate?
Why suffred you not me to rest,
heere dead vpon this shore:
That washing waues might carie me,
to her that is my store?
But Fortune pittying of theyr playntes,
sendes Mercurie with speede:
To Neptune God of swelling Seas,
to staye his force with speede.
For she would sende a luckie Shippe,
of Albanie to saue:
The seelie Maide that thus was toste,
within her carefull caue.
This Hulke from forraine landes did come,
yfraught with traffikes trade:
And towarde Albanie with haste,
his speedie passadge made.
The Seas were calme, ye winds blowe still,
the lustie Mariners sing:
To thinke vpon theyr pleasant gale,
they made the Seas to ring.
Thus Neptune was theyr trusty freende,
and Phœbus spread his light:
Which on the smoothe and waters calme,
dooth glyster fayre and bright.
The Sunne dooth shine vpon the sayles,
ystufte with wished blast:
And as they thus dyd cutte the tyde,
they spide the Chest at last.
Wherein Dame Iulia was enclosde,
and musde what it should bee:
The Maisters Mate dyd launche a Cocke,
and quicklie went to see.
What bootie it was that they from bourde,
aloofe in Seas espied:
He rowes apace tyll he oretooke,
it tombling with the tyde.
With grapling hookes, he foorthwith hales,
this newe found praye to Ship:
The Marriners helpe, through hope therof,
on hatches fast they skip.
But when they had disclosde the same,
and founde therein a Maide:
Of Princely fauour, fresh and fayre,
theyr hartes were sore afraide.
They mused how this chaunce should come,
and tooke her carkase weake:
Whose legges could not support her corpes,
nor yet her tongue could speake.
But being reuiu'de with vitall drinkes,
her ioynts retaine theyr strength:
Her dazeled eyes receyued theyr sight,
her tongue dyd speake at length.
Then they demaunded of her straight,
what chaunce had brought her thether:
Or who committed her to Seas,
to feele bothe winde and weather.
Whose seemely sight dyd so surpasse,
and rather dyd deserue:
Amyd the troupe of Courtly traines,
some Princely peere to serue.
Then she with heauy cheere (God knowes)
began for to relate:
The whole discourse of all her greefe,
and of her frowarde fate.
Desiring them of pittie pure,
to graunt her small request:
And of two thinges to graunt her one,
which may procure her rest.
Eyther to throwe her into Seas,
or carie her, where she
May leade a sole Religious life,
from cares to set her free.
Declaring then that when at first,
she closde her selfe in Chest:
She thought the waters from her woes,
would bring her dayes to rest.
But sith that Fortune so was found,
to be her freendly foe:
Some forraine coast should her retaine,
to extenuate her woe.
They dyd recomfort her againe,
and bade her not dismay:
For that they were no Pyrates prest,
her body to betray.
Ne were they any letchers lewde,
of brutishe sauadge kinde:
To spoyle her chaste Uirginitie,
or marre her Maydens minde.
But bad her thanke the heauenly powers,
that had ordayned so:
That they amyd the surging waues,
her Chest by chaunce dyd knowe.
For they would so prouide for her,
that she should haue a place:
To spende her tyme in matelesse myrth,
and runne a quiet race.
This sayde, they hoysted vp theyr sayles,
and forwarde fast did hye:
No frowarde windes dyd let theyr course,
theyr wished lande to spye.
But puffing sayles, with gladsome gales,
in wished wise dyd swell:
And swiftlyer dyd theyr Ship slide foorth,
then any tongue can tell.
The caruing keele dooth cutte the waues,
the maynsayle, topsayle, and
The Myssen spreete sayle further course,
alofte the flagge dooth stand.
The Pylote markes his compasse well,
and Carde with tentiue eye:
The Maisters mate dooth guide the Sterne,
or Rudder rightfullie.
The Mariners on the Hatches close,
to dice doo fall apace:
In token of a pleasaunt gale,
to further foorth theyr race.
Thus sundring of the byllowes small,
(the coast being fayre and cleare)
At last the toppes of haughty hylles,
within theyr sight appeare.
They passe the mayne Sea at the length,
and straight one dooth adresse
To sounde, and cryes alowde (my mates)
two fadomes quarter lesse.
Approching neerer to the lande,
each one his tackling plyes:
They stryke down sayles, the Bark rode on,
with stealing steppes likewise.
At Hauen mouth they doo discharge,
a fayre tryumphant peale:
That to the Towne they plainly may,
theyr voyage safe reueale.
The Cannons, Culuerings, Sakers, and
the Fawcons breathed fyre:
The Demy peeces, Bassyliskes,
fowle stynking flames dyd spyre.
The thundring shot dyd rore in th' Ayre,
and Eccho lyke dooth sound:
The banckes and craggie creekes lyke case,
doo make the noyse redound.
The flaunting Flagge dooth florish foorth,
that stoode aloft on Mast:
The Anckors crookt with cables strong,
out of the Ship are cast.
And when they entred were on land,
within the Hauen Towne:
Th' inhabitaunts doo welcome them,
with myrth and hye renowne.
Each one makes merry with his freend,
they passe the tyme in ioye.
But Iulia hath no freendly mate,
to comfort her annoye.
You Maydens all, and Ladies bothe,
marke Iulias heauy state:
And take ensample by her looue,
which sorrowes could not bate,
Though once she had the world at wyll,
if she had kept her soe:
Yet Looue and Fortune many tymes,
doo breede men mickle woe.
And though she passing panges dyd feele,
and all for Charles his sake:
She dooth no whit repent her greefes,
which she for him dyd take.
But to be breefe, within this Towne,
was kept a Monasterie:
Where were a sort of nusled Nunnes,
that lyu'de there solemnlie.
Wherein by sute she dooth obtayne,
a Vestal Uirgins trade:
And there Religiously to lyue,
tyll vitall breath dyd vade.
But now my wearied pen must passe,
from Iulias lyfe a whyle:
(Who in Albania solie lyues,)
to Charles Ile frame my stile.
Who by this tyme recouered health,
and left his sicklie bead:
And heard not yet of Iulias chaunce,
that thought him to be dead.
Nowe he pretendes to lincke with her,
his former vowe to saue:
Prouiding him such needefull thinges,
as his affayres dooth craue.
And sent foorthwith a Messenger,
his freende the Preest to pray:
To come to him, as promise was,
who came without delay,
They onely two, theyr voyage framde,
this Mariage knot to tye:
Which they before, by solemne oath,
had sworne, but secretly.
Charles rode on towards Flint apace,
and thought him selfe well blest:
That tyme was come for him to match,
with her he lyked best.
The neerer vnto Flint he came,
the greater was his ioye:
But when as he was thether come,
he felt as great annoye.
He deemde this tyme would make amends,
for all his former woes:
But it dyd more encrease his cares,
then pen can well disclose.
When he was come to Wynefrides Church,
where as he longde to bee:
He lyghted downe where he was wont,
his Lady for to see.
There dooth he meane for to abyde,
tyll Phœbus lost his lyght:
And that his sister Phœbe shynde,
who rules the clowdy night.
Then dooth he meane to send for her,
to finishe vp the oath:
That each of them to others made,
by former plighted troth.
He lytle thought that she was gone,
to leade a Nunlyke lyfe:
Or that in Albanie she was,
whome he should take to wife.
But as he walked in the yarde,
with countenaunce full glad:
One comes and dooth declare the chaunce,
his dolefull Iulia had.
And howe she layde the Chest at shore,
and closde her selfe therein:
And howe her death was sore bewaylde,
not onely by her kin.
But also by all those that dwelt,
within the course of Flint:
Whose looue of all to her was such,
theyr plaints they could not stint.
And how the flowing waters did,
orewhelme her Chest in Seas:
Whose body drenched so in floods,
dooth Parentes greefe increase.
You Loouers that vnto your Dames,
are faithfull iust and true:
May note what sorrowes touched Charles.
and made his heart to rue.
The frosen sound of which colde wordes,
dyd sterue his heauy hart:
Whose trickling teares dyd stay his tongue,
for to expresse his smart.
His present hue bothe wan and pale,
declard his inward greefe:
His ruddy collour now is gone,
he hopes of no releefe.
His hollowe eyes and staring lookes,
his sighes and sobs extreeme:
Are witnesse of his wofull state,
as dyd full plainly seeme.
All myrth and pleasure now is gone,
conuerted soone to paine:
And where before he wisht to lyue,
now dooth he lyfe disdaine.
Now deepe dispayre hath wun the place,
where hope before was fixt:
Affections lewde, and fancies fonde,
amyd his thoughts are mixt.
In desperate wise he runnes about,
deuising euery way:
How he might ease his corpes of cares,
that thus in strife dooth stay.
One whyle he meanes to run to shore,
to pearce his tender hart:
Where as his Iulia shipping tooke,
from Flint for to depart.
An other whyle he thought in Church,
his owne decay to frame:
Where he at first infected was,
with Cupids firie flame.
Againe he thought to drowne him selfe,
within the salt Sea flood:
Whereas his Iulia cast her selfe,
when on the shore she stood.
That by that meanes his carkase might,
be buried in that graue:
Which she in steede of Marble stone,
had chosen for her caue.
Or if the waters had by force,
cast vp her corpes on sande:
He thought that Fortune would conduct,
him to that plot of lande.
Thus tossed long with diuers thoughts,
these fancies passe away:
Then he beginnes to curse his lettes,
that dyd his promise stay.
He bannes his sicknesse which was cause,
of all his care and greefe:
And wisheth medcines had bene bane,
which lent him late releefe.
He cryes on fates that haue prolongd,
his lucklesse lyne of lyfe.
And dooth desire his twiste to cut,
by dyrefull caruing knife.
But when the force of furies rage,
by fancies flaming fire:
Was quighte extinct, and reasons rule,
had coolde his hote desire.
With wisedome then he wisely wayes,
his former fancies past:
And is decreede to stay his minde,
by reasons rayne at last.
This way to leade a wandring lyfe,
the faithfull youth can chuse:
In forrayne landes to waste his dayes,
and mourne these noysome newes.
But chaunge of place cannot transforme,
nor alter any minde:
Though ayre and soyle he doo exchaunge,
his greefe dooth stay by kinde.
He thought if in his countrey he,
should longer tyme abyde:
The freshe remembraunce of his looue,
from him would neuer slyde.
And that by traueyling long he should,
shake from his troubled minde:
These cutting cares and ceaselesse greefes,
which destenies assignde.
And being thus determined,
to take his vnknown flight:
He dooth returne vnto the Preest,
that lodgde at Inne that night.
There vnto him he telles his case,
and howe he dooth pretend:
For to forsake his countrey straight,
with Father and each freend.
And that he wyll no more returne,
tyll Fortune send some chaunce:
To banish all his present cares,
and passed ioyes t'aduaunce.
The Presbiter with good aduise,
dooth counsayle him againe:
His fancies fonde, and raging thoughts,
by reason to refraine.
Perswading him that though he chaunge,
his countrey and his kin:
His minde shall maske in matelesse mone,
his sorrowes wyll not lin.
And sayth good Sir, leaue of your playnts,
let wisedome guide your wyll:
And let not youthfull fancies fonde,
oppresse dame Reasons skyll,
Knowe this, that sorrow hurtfull is,
to them that take the same:
And nought auayles them that be dead,
but is to men great shame.
Your mourning can not call the dead,
to former state of lyfe:
Nor all the teares that you can shed,
cannot redeeme your wife.
Your peregrines, your sighes and sobs,
your trauayle and your paine:
May not reduce your Iulia,
vnto her lyfe againe.
You shew therefore great want of wit,
as euery man may see:
That doo so vainly goe about,
to wyll that may not bee.
You knowe what destenies decree,
we must of force obay:
And what the fates ordayne to yeelde,
with wylling minde alway.
Consider that a wise man ought,
with patient minde to beare:
What so the Princely powers decree,
and neyther hope nor feare.
In vaine he seekes that goes about,
against the Heauens to striue:
Wherefore with reason rule your minde,
for Ladies are a lyue,
That are as comely as she was,
to whome you lent your looue:
Whose fauour you may eke obtaine,
if you your minde remooue.
Though Fortune now haue causd your losse,
in breeding of your care:
Yet tarying tyme, she wyll againe,
your former ioyes repayre.
For as the pleasures that she lendes,
doo not continue sure:
Euen so the trouble that she sendes,
can not alwayes endure.
Though she with frowning frosen face,
doo lowre on you a whyle:
Yet dooth her fauour come as fast,
when as she lyst to smyle.
A wise man in the mydst of cares,
with wit him selfe dooth arme:
So that no stormes of sturdy strife,
can ought procure his harme.
For as the Poet Homer faynes,
that Aten barefoote goes:
She can not touch no harde thing sure,
but lyghtly treades on those
That armed are with constancie,
and patiently abide:
Each sturdy storme that Fortune sendes,
at euerie tyme and tyde.
Whereby is meant calamitie,
whereof she Goddesse is:
Can not bereaue a wise mans heart,
from quiet patient blisse.
But such as are of simple minde,
effemynate and base:
Whose tender hearts can not abyde,
Dame Fortunes hye disgrace.
Wherefore good Sir, content your selfe,
with reason rule your minde:
Embrace Dame Patience in your breast,
so shall you comfort finde.
Bestowe your looue within your stronde,
where are such store of Dames:
As you may largely take your choyse,
and so quight quench your flames.
Consider if you doo forsake,
your Parents and your freends:
And goe into a place vnknown,
then all your pleasures endes.
Ne dare I backe returne againe,
for feare of future happe:
Your Parents bothe wyll wayle your losse,
wherefore preuent the trappe.
That may intangle them in greefe,
and shorten not theyr dayes:
That haue bene carefull for your lyfe,
in all your passed wayes.
Wherefore I craue, abolish wyll,
let wisedome you retayne:
Let Prudence eke by due foresight,
preuent all future payne.
And take my counsayle in good part,
that wylles you to be wise:
Nor let no greefes nor sorrowes past,
your presents thought supprise.
When he had spent such wordes (as these)
Sir Charles dyd straight replie:
You haue but wasted thus much winde,
I lyke it not perdie.
Not all the world can me perswade,
my Iulia to forget:
So stedfastly vpon her looue,
my constant heart is set.
I can not blot out of my minde,
her freendship and good wyll:
Which hytherto I haue retaynd,
and so I wyll doo styll.
Her feature I doo styll beholde,
within my carefull minde:
Though she by death departed is,
and I am left behinde.
Yet whyle I liue her monument,
within my minde shall rest:
Which was her true and trusty hart,
within her constant brest.
Should I goe seeke to lyue in myrth,
or yet to haue mine ease:
And she to lodge among the waues,
in mydst of surging Seas.
No no, no daungers shall preuayle,
to make my heart to shrinke:
Although it were in honest wise,
in saltishe Seas to sinke.
I would vpon my selfe reuenge,
her death were yet no shame:
But that the lawe of God and man,
dooth quite forbyd the same.
Yet doo I hope as Fortune brought,
me to bestowe good wyll:
So wyll she send some kinde of meanes,
by chaunce my lyfe to spyll.
Bnt as the peryls of the Seas,
She dyd for me long take:
Euen so the daungers of the lande,
Ile suffer for her sake.
She reft of lyfe, dooth ryde on waues,
that heere and there dooth raunge:
And I in wandring sort wyll passe,
through Countries farre and straunge.
No daungers shall affright my minde,
yea, were it for to passe:
Euen downe to hell for her sweete sake,
where Orpheus sometyme was.
Therefore leaue off your wastfull wordes,
for what I haue decreede:
My purpose is not to delay,
but put in proofe with speede.
When as the Preest perceiued him,
his follyes to pursue:
And that he could not him perswade,
he dooth his rashnesse rue.
And gan him selfe for to debate,
if he should backe retyre:
His Parents would suspect that he,
theyr sonnes death dyd conspyre.
He therefore thought it better way,
then to reuert againe:
To goe with him, though of his greefes,
he tooke some part of paine.
And thus being bothe determined,
not backwarde to returne:
Sir Charles laments his looue, the Preest
his Countries losse dooth mourne.
But Charles (God knowes) had tryple cause,
for to lament in minde:
Who lost his looue, and left bothe kin,
and Countreyes sight behinde.
When they had ended all theyr plaints,
to Couche apace they hyde:
Where soking sorrowes, for to sleepe,
them vtterly denyde.
Yet Nox by course, dooth run her race,
theyr cares thoe dyd not cease:
But as the night dyd waxe away,
euen so theyr greefes increase.
When Lucifer Dame Venus starre,
dooth glister in the Skie:
In Easterne coast, denoting plaine,
that Titans spowse is nie.
These woefull mates, arose foorthwith,
from out theyr restlesse bed:
And to the Ile that Brittons callde,
Ile Mona, bothe they fled.
Where they lyke faithfull freends doo lyue,
but yet in mornefull wise:
As Orestes, and Pilades,
whose sorrowes, books comprise.
Thus Charles styll tost, with crushing cares,
which vext his secrete hart:
To wayle his wastlesse woes oft tymes,
would drawe him selfe a part.
And to the Sunne would thus complaine,
O Titan it may bee:
That thou this tyme by farre reacht lookes,
my Iulias corpes doost see.
I would thou hadst such vttering woords,
as thou hast shining beames:
Then wouldst thou shew, if now her bardge,
doo floote on striuing streames.
Or if the same on shore be cast,
by meanes of tossing tyde:
O that thou would expresse to me,
where Iulia dooth abyde.
Where so her coarse dooth rest, I would.
what daunger so befell:
Remayne with her, if thou to me,
her byding place wouldst tell.
But sith thou want'st the vse of speeche,
to bring me to her sight:
Yet for my sake bestowe on her
(then wont) a freendlyer light.
When obscure clowdes doo dym thy beames,
and darke thy shining rayes:
Let not her corpes yet want thy lyght,
that in the Seas decayes.
Thus vnto Fowles, to Trees and Beasts,
and stones he would complaine:
As though they wit and senses had,
his meaning to retaine.
The lande of Ladies breed his greefe,
and Musicke causde his mone:
Theyr sugred words, myrthes, siluer tunes,
in greefe would make him grone.
The Preest also laments his lot,
as he alone dooth trace:
And often to his Countries soyle,
his staring eyes would gaze.
He wisheth styll her carkase there,
where as his hart dooth rest:
Such troubled thoughts he carries aye,
within his beating brest.
But fewe affection fonde can tame,
or Cupids force withstande:
For greefe and looue, are voyde of rest,
bothe bound in sorrowes bande.
If body might flie where the minde
is oftentimes retaind:
Full many would not vse that place,
where else they are constraind.
Thus though they vse t'acquaint themselues
with states, and of the best:
Yet could no pleasures purchase place,
within their carefull brest.
Incessaunt cares thus pyning them,
redoubling daylie woes:
They thought to seek theyr deaths foorthwith
amyd theyr blooddy foes.
They gin therefore t'enquire for warres,
Where often death is found,
Afore the tyme: where bloody blowes,
in boysterous sort abound.
That vsing feates of manly Mars,
they may cut of theyr care:
And rather shorten vp theyr lyues,
then lyue styll in dispayre.
When Lady Ver had thinly clothed,
Sir Tellus gay with greene:
Since their arriuall there where now,
nine quarters they haue beene.
The men of Albanie that tyme,
were at a ciuill warre:
As Fortune sendeth sometymes lucke,
for Regions nie and farre.
The King was fayne to send for ayde,
to Mona, where he had:
Well furnisht men, whereof the Preest,
and Charles were verie glad.
The courtesie that Charles this whyle,
vsde in this Ilande Towne:
Dyd drawe the hearts of many men,
that were of hye renowne.
He therefore ioyfull at these newes,
dyd moue his sute as then:
To Chyrall of the Ile to haue,
the chardge of hundreth men.
Such freendship he therein obtaynde,
that though a straunger borne:
Yet dyd they graunt to him his sute,
and thought thereof no scorne.
Thus Vertue makes a straunger oft,
full naturall to growe:
Within a forrayne countrey straunge,
where no man dooth him knowe.
The Gouernour of the Ile that tyme,
dyd heere report of right:
Of Charles his skyll in Martiall seates,
who was a valiant Knight.
Whose courage stoute (yet mylde and meeke)
with forwarde actiuenesse:
Declarde although his yeeres were rawe,
his prowesse and worthinesse.
For wisedome had bestowed on him,
her precious giftes at large:
Which rather furthred his request,
to haue a Cheeftaynes charge.
The Souldiers lyked so of him,
that they doo all agree:
With franke consent, that he on them,
a Gouernour should bee,
He being chosen Captaine nowe,
to goe to Alban lande.
Selected him an expert man,
Lieutenaunt of his bande.
The Auncient bearer he dyd chuse,
his Ensigne to display:
The Sergeant Corporall to keepe,
his Souldiers in aray.
A Trumpeter with mighty breath,
to sounde the feates of warre:
The Phife and Drumster with his stickes,
to make the Drum to iarre.
The Preest he also dooth appoynt,
in Office for to stand:
As fit for him to keepe his booke,
as Clarke of all his band.
A gallant Galley was ordaind,
the Souldiers to transport:
Wherein they went, and quickly came,
to king of Albans Court.
Of whome they were well entertaynd,
the Tents foorthwith prepard:
And strongly pitched, the Trenches delued,
the regall Campe to gard.
The lyght Horsemen, with Iack & Speare,
and steelly cappes foorth went:
To scoute abroade, the Launces straight,
to reseue them were sent.
In prison pathes, least enimies,
should passage haue that way:
Olde sturdy Stagers, wise in warres,
in secrete ambush lay.
Munitions, Rampyres, foorth were framde,
them from theyr foes to sheeld:
The brasen peeces caried were,
that fittest were for feeld.
The Rebels lykewise had prepard,
a power huge and tall:
The Uarlets meant (but God would not)
to giue theyr Prince a fall.
The Wings, ye Fronts, the Battell mayne,
were ordred on each side:
The Ensignes noted how the one,
the others force defide.
The Hoastes now marcht in Battell ray,
tyll bothe sides were in view:
And eke in reache, then Trumpetters,
an eger Onset blew.
Round boysterous balles of sturdy steele,
the Cannons breathes about:
The Curriers and Calliuers then,
theyr leaden pellets shoute.
The prauncing Coursers with this noyse,
to wrekefull wrath were mou'de:
The woorthy wights, on trampling Steeds,
theyr passing prowesse prou'de.
Theyr Horsemen pearst, with Launce do lie,
of Helmets quite bereau'de:
Theyr Pikemen in like sort doo lye,
theyr wofull woundes receau'de.
The Pikemen, losing Burkonet,
and Speare lykewise ybroke:
With manly force of stubborne strength,
dooth stryke full many a stroke.
His Arming swoorde, then foorth he drawes,
him selfe for to defende:
Wherewith he maymes his enimies fearce,
that seeke his life to ende.
The wounded men to Cabbin hyes,
to staunche theyr wasting blood:
The maymed men, and dead men flote,
aloft in crimsone flood.
When thus a whyle the armies fought,
the Princesse partie wun:
By tracing ground, they got of them,
bothe winde and shining Sun.
Sir Phœbus blerde the Rebels eyes,
his glistering beames so shinde:
Their sight obscured was with smoake,
that flewe with blaste of winde.
Thus winde and sunne assyst the King,
and God would haue it so:
The Rebelles Campe, no order kept,
but scattered too and fro.
Some heere, some there, for succour fled,
some backwardes run apace:
The ventrous victors Prince his side,
with speede pursues the chace.
Retyring nowe they are strooke downe,
the Trumpets gladly sounde:
Theyr backe retraite, with ioyfull tunes,
dooth Eccho lyke rebound.
Such euill happes prepared are,
for them that doo assay:
Against their regall Prince to ryse,
with swoorde in hand to slay.
If any Captaine there wun Fame,
then Charles did purchase prayse:
Who dyd excell each Souldier there,
in all his warlyke wayes.
He ventred more, his cares compeld,
he desperate was in deede:
And Fortune furthred his attempts,
and sent him freendly speede.
The victor King, when foes were foylde,
assigned Cheeftaines than:
To garde the Holdes that Rebels kept,
before the broyle began.
Each one was poynted to his place,
and Charles as Fortune lent:
Unto the Towne, where Iulia liues,
with Garison was sent.
Though frowarde Fortune at the first,
dooth shewe her enuious guile:
Yet at the last she turnes her wheele,
and then dooth smoothly smile.
He nought surmisde such blisfull lot,
vnwares was him assygnde:
Or that he should his Iulia see,
for whome he mournde in minde.
But Fortune loe, vnlooked for,
to Iulias sight him brought:
Whose carkase long agoe consumde,
amyd the Seas he thought.
Thus Charles with corage tooke his course,
and dooth his voyage bend:
With those his men vnto the Towne,
which he should now defend.
As soone as to the Towne he came,
he walkt the walles about:
To spie if any breach were there,
to enter in or out.
And walking thus when as the Sun,
had almost run his race:
He dyd espie a troupe of Dames,
that came with solemne pace.
Which were the Lady Prioresse,
with Nunnes that came behinde:
Who walking were about the walles,
to recreate theyr minde.
He marched forwarde towardes them,
and they to him lykewise:
And Charles vpon these modest Dames,
dooth fixe his gazing eyes.
Bothe gan each other to salute,
with such a modest cheere:
That what in wordes twixt them did want,
in gesture dyd appeere.
This holy route, by two in ranke,
dyd orderly passe by:
And as they went, Sir Charles on them,
dooth cast attentiue eye.
Among the which Dame Iulia was,
who had of him a sight:
And he againe surueyde her shape,
and tooke therein delyght.
Two sortes of folke the eye will first,
be sure for to beholde:
Eyther a freende thats well beloued,
or else an enimie olde.
Her feature better pleasde his minde,
as Nature wylde it soe:
Then all the beautie of the rest,
that were within the rowe.
And she againe dyd fancie him,
whome she in minde dyd gesse:
The featured forme of Charles his face,
in countenaunce to expresse.
Her wayling weedes and vestall robes,
which she that tyme did weare:
Disquised her, that scarse her face,
could in his fight appeare.
His headpeece lykewise which he wore,
with cewrates clasped one:
His sleeues of Mayle, with other things,
made him to her vnknowne.
But though apparell seemed straunge,
and made them to surmise:
Yet they each other dyd suspect,
by onely view of eyes.
The minde sometimes wyll gesse and iudge,
that which the eye knowes not:
As theyr two mindes, each other knew,
the sight theyr formes forgot.
Thus bothe suspended in suspect,
away they bothe doo goe:
The one not knowing the others name,
as chaunce appointed so.
The doubtlesse Fame of bothe theyr deaths,
with straungenesse of attyre:
Made them to hang in ceaselesse doubts.
and slacke for to enquyre.
By this the Starres in Firmament,
lyke twinckling sparckes aryse:
And night compels each one depart,
to rest their weary eyes.
Charles went to bed, but tooke small rest,
her shape renewde his thought:
And made his musing minde to maske,
where fancies fonde him brought.
The morning nowe appeereth bright,
Charles and the Preest with speede:
Doo ryse, and to the Church to pray,
to goe they are decreede.
But Charles his minde was cheefly bent,
his fancied face to see:
And to beholde his Iulia,
yet thought it was not shee.
When into Church they entred were,
they might beholde in sight:
A Table hang ouer the head,
of euerie Nun aright.
Wherein insculped were their names,
according to their place:
Thus after Charles had sayde his prayers,
he lyfted vp his face.
And gan to reade these written names,
there present to their sight:
Untyll they came vnto the name,
that Charles dyd most delight.
At last within a Table fayre,
in Romaine letters fine:
Iulia Brittania written was,
there open to theyr eyne:
This name reuiu'de his dulled sprites,
this comforted his hart:
This brought his passed pleasaunt ioyes,
and ended present smart.
Now he recordes within his minde,
that Iulia is the Mayde:
Which he at his arriuall viewde,
whyle he theyr passage stayde.
Yet faynting feare dooth make him dout,
least one of them there were:
Among the Nunnes to him vnknowne,
that dyd this name eke beare.
Againe, he hopes that Fortune might,
conuay her to that place:
From greedy iawes of fishfull floods,
thus doubted he the case.
That vertue is rare and seldome,
his stay eke verie straunge:
Whose state (tho it be good or yll)
Dame Fortune cannot chaunge.
He tooke his pen and ynke in hand,
and wrote vnder the same:
In his owne speeche and Brittishe tongue,
his right and proper name.
So vnder Iulia Brittania there,
he Charles Brittania writte:
That she might reade the same, when she
came there againe to sit.
He also wrote where he abode,
and in what streete or Inne:
The chardge also that he dyd holde,
he writ lykewise therein.
Now his affaires constraineth him,
for to depart away:
For to prouide the Townes defence,
as much as in him lay.
They thence depart with gladsome mindes,
in hope of future ioye:
These gladsome newes that he hath seene,
driues out all darke annoye.
Within a whyle the Prioresse,
with all her Nunnes drewe nye:
And into Churche they roundly came,
when Charles was gone perdye.
The Vestall Uirgins, two and two,
towarde theyr seates resort:
And set them downe each in her seate,
as was theyr vsuall sort.
Iulia, lykewise approching neere,
by suddaine chaunce dyd see:
In pendent Table ouer her place,
more written then should bee.
When morning prayers were finished,
no tyme before she found:
She read these lines, the view wherof,
dooth make her ioyes abound.
Her pleasures banished all care,
she knewe that Charles was hee:
Which she by tracing neere the walles,
before her face dyd see.
The Prioresse when all is done,
dooth homeward hye againe:
The Sunne had compassed the South,
and shewes his heate amaine.
The dinner time was nowe at hand,
to dinner straight they went:
Charles all this whyle dyd long to heare,
howe he his writing spent.
When as the Prioresse dyned had,
then Iulia goes with speede:
Desiring of her Mistrisse then,
to graunt her leaue in neede.
For she a Brother had that was,
but lately come to Towne: