University of Virginia Library

The Booke speaketh to the Buyers.

What kind of thing J am,
my shape doth shew the same:
No Forrest, though my father pleasde,
to tearme me by that name.
But Fancy fits me well,
For J am fully fraught,
With Fancies such as may correct
but not corrupt the thought.
Jn me my friend thou mayst,
(though thou be yong or olde)
Ritche, poore, of high or low degree,
thy duety here beholde.
For Yonkers J haue fonde,
and foolish trifles store:
For auncient syres, such seemely sightes,
as shall content them more.
If thou a Louer bee,
come learne thy lesson here:
Where wilfull workes of witles wightes,
shall perfect playne appeare.
What treason is in trust,
how fickle friendes are found:
How wretched is the state of man,
what mischiefe doth abound.
What follies fond we frame,
our foolish fancy to:
Here mayst thou see, and so discearne,
what best beseemes to do.
Sith then such profile may,
by meanes of me redounde:
To thee my friend, before thou passe,
this present plot of grounde.
Put hand in purse for pence,
to purchase me withall:
What foole a Forrest would forsake,
that sees the price so small.
A Shilling is the moste,
a very slender share:
No hurt to him that hath ynough,
so small a peece to spare.

The Authour to the Reader.

R. W. to the Reader, in the Authours behalfe.

VVhat led Leander to presume,
so oft to swim through surging seas:
But hope to fynd his Hero there,
where he ariu'de his hart to ease.
What moude the Troyan to attempt,
to go to Greece, but hope to haue
The princely pearle, the promised pray,
which most of all his hart did craue?
And what procured Æsons soone,
to put his life in perrill so,
To fetch the Fleece from Colcos Coste?
where to augment his greefe and wo,
So many perrils were preparde,
but that he hopte thereby to gaine:
Such glory great as after death,
should make his fame for aye remayne.
If all these hopte, and had in fine,
the thing that they did hold most deare:
Let him that hath this prety booke,
for thy delight compyled heare,
Good Reader, reape his iust reward,
to recompence his meere good will,
Receiue his gift in gratefull wise,
and of the same conceiue none ill.
For euill none he ment thereby,
(what euer enuious mates surmise:)
Right sure I am: conceiue therefore,
of him and his none otherwise.
So shalt thou make him think his paynes,
imployed well in each respect.
And happy count his hap that some,
will with good will his work protect.

The Forrest of Fancy.

A morrall of the misery and mischiefe that raigneth amongst wicked worldlinges, with an admonition to all true Christians, to forsake their sinne and amend their manners.

Who so he be that silent sits,
and sets his mind to see,
The subtle slights that wily wights
doe worke in each degree.
shall surely fynd full great abuse,
In euery place committed:
And verine voyde and out of vse,
all reason quight remitted:
Might maistereth right, the pore are pincht,
almost in euery place,
Fraude, flattery, gold, and greedy gaine,
each where doth purchase grace.
But truth and plaine simplicity,
reapes hatred euery where:
Good deedes are dead, and charity,
hath hid her head for feare.
Whores hold the place that Matrons milde,
doe merite moste to haue;
And flattery flockes about the Court,
in steede of fathers graue.
The couetous carle doth scrape for coyne,
the royotous sonne spendes all:
The true man cannot scape the theefe,
but in his handes must fall.
The Userer now doth vse his trade,
The Landlord raise his rent:
The powling Lawyer playes his part,
the truth to circumuent.
Our Gentles now doe iette it out,
in brauery passing measure,
Till they haue lost by vaine expence,
bath credite, land and treasure.
The Yeomans sonne not liking of,
his fathers honest state,
Will climbe to be a gentle man,
and euery Gentles mate.
The Gentleman will be a Knight,
the Knight a Lord likewise,
The Lord an Earle, the Earle a Duke,
the Duke will higher rise,
And make himselfe a puisaunt Prince.
the Prince will Monarke be,
So no man now will be content,
To bide in his degree.
The sonne doth seeke his fathers death,
his liuing to obtaine,
Faith fayles in all, few trusty friendes,
doe any where remayne.
The mayster seekes by rygorous meanes,
his seruauntes to suppresse,
And seruaunts worke all meanes they may,
their maysters to distresse,
Now mothers trayne their Daughters vp,
In loathsome liberty:
Whereby oft times their honest names
they bring in ieoperdy.
Excesse is vsde in euery place,
the pore no whit releude,
Labour is loathde, and Idlenesse
ech where his web hath weude,
The Tauernes tiplers ply a pace,
eache alehouse hath his knightes:
In dice and dauncing, deuilish trades,
are all their whole delightes.
All law is left for liberty,
all vertue changde for vice:
All truth is turnde to Trecherye,
all thinges inhaunce their price.
Eache craftes man now hath craft at will,
his neighbour to defraude,
They sweare, and oft forsweare themselues,
for euery foolish gaude.
But is it well where euery thing,
doth seeme so much amis:
No doubtlesse no: a wicked world,
and wretched state it is.
A world in deede, deuided quight,
from godlinesse and grace:
A world that greatly God abhorres,
from which he turnes his face.
A world it is, which will not last,
a world whose end is nye:
A world that shall his fury taste,
that sees our sins from hye.
A world that will full well content,
the enemy of our ioy.
A world that workes his lewd intent,
that would our soules destroy.
Therefore let each true christian hart
his secrete sins forsake:
To God let him with speede reuert,
and meeke subiection make,
Committing all his actions still,
to his deuine protection,
So shall he surely shun all ill,
and liue without infection.

[Thy cruell dealing hath procurde]

Thy cruell dealing hath procurde
thy Brothers trembling hand,
O Etheocles for to write,
and let thee vnderstand
What iniury thou doest offer me,
in going thus about
To breake the promise made to me,
wherein thou doest no doubt,
Both God and nature much offend,
for when we were at strife,
When deadly discord twixt vs twaine,
and enuye was so rife,
That each of vs the Kingdome craude,
our father then decest,
It was by counsayle graue decreede,
to cause our countreyes rest,
That each should yearely raigne by course,
whereto thou didst agree,
Then drawing Lots who should be fyrst,
the lot did light on thee.
I gaue thee place, as right requyrde,
thou hast a yeare and more,
Enioyde the same most peaceably
without anoy, therefore
Thou shouldst permit thy brother now,
thee therein to supply,
To rule as thou haste done before,
but thou doest it deny,
So much ambition doth thee blind,
and fylthy lukers lure,
That to resigne to me my right,
thou mayst not now indure,
For when I did the same demaund,
thou proudly didst refuse,
To render it, wherein thou doest
thy brother much abuse,
But doest thou thinke I will receiue,
such aunswere at thy hande
And suffer thee against my will,
to rule the Realme and land.
Which I should doe, that will I no
for all thy power and strength,
But in despight of thee I hope,
to haue the same at length.
And make thee feele the small thy selfe,
of this thy offred wrong,
If that to yield to my request
thou doest the time prolong.
Adrastus is a mighty King,
whose Daughter is my wife,
And for that cause with all his power,
will aide me during life,
Whose force conioyned with mine owne.
doth farre surpasse thy might,
Therefore let reason rule the raine,
doe yeeld to me my right,
Let vs like brethren liue and loue,
each other as we ought:
Let vs not stray from natures boundes,
and stirre vp strife for naught.
Least that Reporte reprochfully,
on vs doe rumour raise,
And so the race of Oedipus,
be wicked deemde alwayes.
What though our father did offend,
in taking to his fere
Jocasta fayre vnwittingly,
that was his mother deare,
Shall that to vs a patterne be?
to teach vs to offend,
Nay rather let it be a meane,
to make vs to amend.
Shall it be sayd that we haue wrought,
the ruine of our land,
And of our selues so wilfully?
let all thinges well be scand.
Consider well what daungers great
we may incurre thereby,
And what great mischiefe may insue
if thou this thing deny,
Thou knowest that from the mighty Ioue,
decendes our royall race,
Let vs not therefore doe the thing,
that may our byrth deface,
Let not the Thebans iustly he
compeld to curse vs both,
For thy ambitious greedy mind,
whereof I would be loth,
For what if in this cursed strife,
we both should chaunce to dye,
What great contention should there be,
who should our place supply?
What great disdaine? what priuy grudge?
what tumultes then would grow?
What hurly burly would there be?
what treason then would flowe?
Through ciuill warre the countrey would,
be topsy turuy turnde
Strong holds would then be battered downe,
whole Townes and Citties burnde,
What clamours then what dolefull cryes,
would be throughout the land?
How many Orphans would be made?
who should in safety stand?
Chast Uirgins would be then deflourde,
yong infantes would be slaine,
The rich men should be spoylde and robde,
the porer put to paine,
Oh what disorder then would grow?
what murder made of men?
What sacraledge, what raunsack rude,
what bloodshead would be then?
Waye well these thinges, my brother deare,
which if thou doe proceede,
Is lykely for to come to passe,
therefore I say take heede,
For if thou be the cause thereof,
then truely shalt thou trye,
Their blood on thee for thy desertes,
from heauen will vengeaunce crye.
And I not to be blamde at all.
sith that I nothing craue,
But that which doth to me partaine
and I of right should haue,
Take heede in time, aduise thee well,
hereafter comes not yet,
The house can not stand long, that is
on ill foundation set,
The ship that at sure maker lyes,
is safe in euery place:
Twixt backe and free, thrust not thy hande
beware in any case
Thou put not fyre vnto the tow,
sharpe not thy knife I say,
If thou therewith wilt not be hurt,
but take this by the way.
That if thou tread vpon a worme.
she will turne back againe:
Care Stede be stolne, shut stable dore,
else is it all in vaine.
For be that takes not heede before,
shall afterwardes repent it:
Wherefore I say looke to it well.
whilst that thou maist preuent it.
A man when he doth see the stroke,
may soone auoyde the same,
So thou if that to reasons lore,
thou wilt thy fancy frame.
Thou maist this mischiefee easly shun,
that hangeth ouer thee:
But who so blind the prouerb sayth,
as hee that will not see.
Thou knowest all this as well as I,
I neede not make relation
Thereof to thee, wordes are but wind,
where will hath domination.
Raine nothing profite can the corne,
which on drie stones is sowne:
Nor councell, him which doth mislike,
all counsell saue his owne,
I can and doe bide wrong ynough,
but cannot to much beare:
Looke eare you leape, for feare you catch,
a wrong sow by the eare.
As by his Trumpe, the trumpiter
doth show his meaning plaine,
So by my letters in likewise,
my purpose I explaine.
Doe therefore as you shall see cause,
the blame shall byde in you:
If any thing amisse do chaunce.
and so I say adue,

A warning to yong men to flye the flattery, and shun the deceiptes of dissembling dames.

A plaine description of perfecte friendship.

True friendship vnfained
Doth rest vnrestrayned,
No terrour can tame it:
Not gaining, nor losing,
Nor gallant gay glosing,
can euer reclaime it.
In paine, and in pleasure,
The most truest treasure.
That may be desyred,
Is loyall loue deemed,
Of wisedome esteemed,
and chefely required.

An Inuectiue against couetous persons.

As after Sommer winter comes,
so age doth youth insue:
And after age comes sicknes in,
then death doth life subdue,
And after death the winding sheete,
which bringes vs to the graue,
This is the state of mortall men,
this is the end they haue.
Wherefore doe men then heape vp coyne,
and hord it vp so fast,
Why doe they care for worldly muck,
as life would euer last.
Why doe they take such paines for that,
which they must leaue behind.
To them that will dispearse the same,
as chaffe against the winde.

Of fayned friendship.

As Swallowes doe in Sommer time appeare,
And in the winter cold cannot be seene,
So faithles friendes will vnto vs draw neare,
so long as welth doth flourish fresh and greene,
But when that fayles, then farewell friendship to,
All is for gaine, that these vile vipers do.

The commodities of Mariage.

Of the wickednesse of women and howe prone they are to the procatious of the flesh.

Joue on a day disposde to iest,
with Iuno for delight,
The wicked wiles of womens wits,
in wordes did plaine resite.
And said that they to fleshly lustes,
more subiect were then men.
Iuno denyde, to haue it tryde,
they craued iudgement then.
And for because Tiresias had,
both man and woman bin,
Supposing him the metest man,
and most expert therein,
They did elect him for their iudge,
the truth thereof to trye:
He sentence past with Iupiter.
and boldly did replye,
That women were the wantonner,
although for shame they sought,
For to conceale from open shew.
what was their secret thought.
But Iuno as the nature is,
of all the femine sect,
When as she saw Tiresias did
her wished will reiect,
In giuing so his sentence graue,
contrary to her mind,
(Inflamde with yre to worke reuenge,)
she made Tiresias blinde,
Therefore I must of force conclude,
that neither fury fell,
Nor Serpent dyre, not Tiger fierce,
nor all the fiendes in hell.
May more torment the mind of man,
or worke his wretched woe:
So much as can one wicked wench.
in whome doth fury floe.

What small trust there is to be reposed in friendes or kinsfolkes.

Sith friendship is as rare a thing to finde,
As tis to see a Swanne all black of hue?
Wise Esope in his Fables as we finde,
Doth warne vs well to thinke no friend so true.
That will be prest, our pleasure to fulfill,
So redily as we the same require,
For why in trust is treason tried still,
And fairest lookes doe lack the best desyre:
Wherefore (saith he) let no man trust his friend,
To doe the thing which he himselfe may doe,
For feare he be deceaued in the end,
By those whome he hath leaned most vnto,
For profe whereof a Fable he resightes,
Which who so notes, shall find to great effect,
The fraude of friendes he plainly there resites,
Who to their promise haue but small respect.
A Larke there was vpon a certaine tyme,
That trained vp her yong ones in a feild,
Where Corne did grow, which then was euen in prime,
To be cut downe as ripe, the Larke to sheild
Her little ones from harme, when as she went
Abrode to get such meate as should suffice
To feede them with, did giue commaundement,
That they should haue regard in any wise
To that they heard, and at her back returne,
To tell her all: it hapned on a day,
Whilst she was forth, that thether came the Borne,
Which ought the field, which to his sonne did say,
This geare is ripe and ready to be cut,
Wherefore to morrow go thou in my name,
Unto our friendes, and them in mind doe put
To come and helpe me to dispatch the same.
Which charge his son dischargde in each respect,
Whereto his friends in friendly wise did frame
Their aunswere straight, that they would not neglect,
To worke his will when night approched was,
This Larke come home her byrds did flitter fast,
About her all and shewing what did pas,
Desyred her, that she in all the haste,
Wold them transport vnto some other place,
But she perswading them to be content,
Commaunded them next day to lend good eare,
To that they heard, and so awaye she went.
Next day in Field the farmer doth appeare,
With Sim his sonne, where all that day they spent,
But of his friendes there came not one of all,
Wherefore vnto his sonne againe he said,
Tomorrow to my Cosines goe you shall,
And say that I require their friendly ayde,
To reape my corue: the yong ones hearing this,
More earnest were with their beloued damme.
To be remoued from thence, but she ywis,
Did let it slip vntill the next day came,
For why quoth she, no cosins are so kinde,
That by and by will come at kinsemans call,
Tomorrow therefore marke what newes you find,
And then if neede require, Ile helpe you all.
Next day the Cosins came not into place,
Wherefore the good man sayd, all friendes farewell,
And kinsmen to, now will I chaunge the case,
And trust no trifling tale that they shall tell,
Trust to our selues we will, go thou my soune,
Prouide to sickles for thy selfe and me,
And by our selues it shall to morue be done.
When as the Larke hard this, nay now quoth she.
Tis time indeede to pack away from hence,
Unles we will each one destroyed be,
And so she bare her little ones from thence,

A Letter written by a yong maiden to a Louer of hers, wherein she detecteth the trechery of many men, and their great dissimulation.

The crow would seeme a milk white swan to be,
So likewise would the pratling rooke appeare,
Like Iunos byrd, which cannot well agree,
For kind bewrayes his craft, this is most cleare
Yea Copper oft in Siluer is inclosde,
In glittering gold, great store of drosse doth bide,
In purest shels, as triall hath disclosde,
Carnels corrupt, themselues full often hide,
The wily wolfe we diuerse times do fynde,
In sheepes skin cloathde, and eake the dusty wall,
With hangings faire is hid, in humaine kinde,
We also see the like effect to fall,
For many a one there is, that makes a show,
Of perfect loue, when he meanes nothing lesse,
Men seeke to bring poore women to their bow,
And in the end to leaue them in distresse.
And for because I thought you one of those,
Whose pleasure is pore women to deceiue,
With tatling tong you flatteringly can glose,
As by your deedes I dayly do perceaue,
I sent to you a flower for Flatterers fit,
Regarding naught how ye the same would take,
So free I am from biting on the bit,
As yet not drencht in Lady Venus lake.
If ought beside be done that you like ill,
And that the same in euill part you take,
Goe seeke your mendes you may whereas you will.
I reke you naught, this aunswere doe I make,
And though before, offence were none committed,
Yet this your writing fond would it procure,
Which hath full well with your demeanour fitted,
Being rude, and imprudent, and ill to indure.
No more I neede at this time here to say,
For well you may by this my mind perceiue,
Yet of one thing I warne you by the way,
That with vaine hope your selfe you not deceiue,
And so to conclude, I bid you adue,
Wishing you aduisedly my letters to view.

A yong man enamoured of a very fayre Gentlewoman, declareth the dollorous passions that he suffereth for her sake, and craueth mercy at her handes.

Certaine Verses written in commendation of the Nut cornell.

As late for my delight,
when dumpes opprest my minde,
I walkte abrode the pleasaunt fieldes,
in hope some helpe to fynde,
By chaunce I lighted then,
Upon a huge great wood,
Whereas in rankes right goodly trees,
of sundry sortes there stoode,
There were of large and lofty Okes,
great store in euery place,
Of Aspe and Elme, with byrche and Boxe,
where euer I did trace.
There was great store of Holly to,
of willow asp and ew,
And all the ground was clad with flowers,
of sundry sent and hue.
Amongest the rest of Philberts fayre,
was plenty euery where,
And euery thing that hart could wish.
a man might find it there,
Then from this Philbert tree I pluct,
A cluster that were clong,
Togither fast in seemely sort,
as on the tree they hung,
And when I had them in my hand,
not knowing how to vse them,
I was at last by reason taught,
betwixt my teeth to bruse them,
Which hauing done I found therein,
A Cornell fayre enclosde,
Which for to be of pleasaunt tast,
I also then supposde.
And found it so, for in my life,
I neuer tasted thing,
More pleasaunt then the Cornell was,
which from that tree did spring,
The Philbert Cornel is a dish,
for any Princes meete,
And they that of the same will tast,
shall find it wondrous sweete.
Aboue all other kinde of fruite,
the philbert in my minde,
Doth seeme most pleasaunt in the taff,
as they that proue shall find,
Such vertue in this cornel is,
that I haue heard men say,
Phisitions vse it many times,
their patientes paines to stay.
For many thinges this cornel is,
commodious yet beside:
As they can witnesse wondrous well,
that haue the vertue tryde.
And therefore as I did begin,
euen so I will not misse,
To say that of all fruict the best,
the Philbert cornel is.

A Louer whose friend for his sake was frowardlye delte withal, writeth vnto her, to perswade her with pacience, to suffer it for a season.

As one bewrapt in wastefull wo,
in dryry dread I stand,
Least that my shippe on Rocks should rend,
or perrish in the Sand.
Least blustring blastes should driue my barke.
to vnacquainted shore,
Least swelling waues should soke it so,
as naught may it restore.
To former state and strength againe,
least foes of forrein land?
should make encounter with my men,
that may not long withstand.
Or least with song some Siren should,
the pilate so allure,
As by that meanes, his losse and mine,
vnwisely he procure,
A thousand thoughtes in head do swarme,
which will not me permit,
Ne night nor day my rest to take,
as nature deemes it fitte,
You are the ship, whose safety so,
my hart hath euer sought,
You are the Barke for whose mishaps,
my head with care is fraught.
Such craggy cliftes, such greedy gulfes,
such sundry sortes of Sandes,
Such daungers great, such perrilous portes,
amidst your passage standes,
Such whirling winds, such blustering blastes,
which cleane contrary blow,
Such tempestes straunge, such wallowing waues,
about you still doe flowe.
Such syrens with their subtill songes,
allure your pilate still:
I meane your mother that thereby,
she seekes to worke you ill.
Such homebred hatefull hellish hagges,
such friendly fawning foes,
Whose priuie mallice prickes farre worse,
then bryre amidst the rose.
Which breedes my bale, and to my mind,
doth dayly bring vurest,
For feare least you by their despight,
should be to much opprest,
But sith as yet I see no way,
these euils to preuent,
With perfect pacience arme your selfe,
till helpe from God be sent,
And pray to him with hart and voyce,
to further my desyre.
Which once obteind, doubt not to fynde,
such rest as you require,
And thereby be in such estate,
as they that now deuise,
To worke your wo, to gaine good will,
shall then all meanes deuise,
Thus leauing now for lack of time,
a long discourse to make.
I bid adue, and kisse this scroule,
that you in hand shall take,
Hoping it shall as thankfully,
of you receaued be,
As I desyre most willingly,
your hart from harme to free.

An admonition to Maisters, how they should behaue themselues towardes their seruauntes.

A yong man finding her to whome he had plighted promise, to be fraught with another mans fruicte, wrighteth vnto her as followeth.

All is not Gold that glittereth fayre,
Nor all thinges as it seemes to be,
Fayre hangings hide the dusty wall,
So doth the barke the hollow tree,
The flower that fayrest seemes in sight,
Hath not alwayes the sweetest smel,
But time that bringes all thinges to light,
And doubtfull dread from mind expell,
Hath tryde thy treason and my truth,
Thy seeret slightes it doth detect.
Yea time hath now bewrayde thy wiles,
Thy wauering wit, thy small respect
To plighted vow, thy cloked craft,
Thy filthy life so close concealde,
Thy double dealing diuelish driftes
And wild desires it hath reuealde,
Unto my praise and thy reproche,
But who would looke for other gaine,
At handes of her in whome no truth
Did euer yet vouchsafe to raine,
Like as the Siren with her songs,
And Crocadile with dolefull cryes,
Procures the Pilat to approch.
The place where greatest perrill lyes,
So hast thou long led me to loue,
And like of thee aboue the rest,
By flattering wordes by fayned vowes,
And meere good will which thou profest.
But wordes are wind I well perceaue,
And womens vowes are made in vaine,
Their wauering wits delight in chaunge,
And reason neuer rules the raine,
Excuses now shall serue no more.
To bleare mine eyes as they haue done,
Thy filthy fact bewrayes thy lore,
For which great shame thou shalt not shon,
The wine another hath inioyde,
To me the dregges thou mindst to leaue,
But thinke not so, for if thou due,
Thou greatly doest thy selfe deceaue.
No mistresse, no, to yield to that,
Be sure ye shall not me compell,
I neede not oue to tast my meate,
My selfe can serue the turne full well,
Let him therefore that sowde the seede,
Enioy the fructe thereof at will,
His last is fittest for thy foote,
To row thy Barge he best can skill.

A pretty fancy of the fynding of a Whyte, wherein is collourablely included the course of a Captiue Louer, in purchasing his desyred purpose.

Not long agoe with bow in hande,
and arrowes by my syde:
An Archer like I went abrode,
my cunning to haue tride,
And being entred in the field,
I cast mine eye a scaunce,
And loe a goodly glistering whyte,
before my face did glaunce,
Which pleasaunt sight did please me so,
as to suruay the same,
Me thought it did my hart much good,
and was my greatest game.
Narcissus fond did neuer gaze,
Upon his shadow more,
Nor by the Image which he made,
Pigmallyon set such store.
As I did by that prety whyte,
which so reuiude my hart,
As whilst it was within my sight,
I felt no paine nor smart.
But if I once did turne awaye
from it my dazeling eyes,
Good Lord: what cares within my brest,
did by and by arise.
So that as one berefte of sence,
as still as any stone:
I stoode at last and could not sturre,
But stared still vppon,
This passing white, much like to those,
whome worthy Perseus made,
For to behold grim Gorgons head,
that causde their force to fade.
And turnde them all to stockes of stone,
for their outragious pride,
In seeking causelesse his decay,
whome Ioue himselfe did guide,
Then rusht in reason by and by,
in comly collours clad:
And calde alowde, to cause me heare,
that earst no hearing had,
And when I was againe reuiude.
with countinaunce graue and sad,
Why standst thou sencelesse thus,
beholding of the thing,
That still the more thou lookest thereon,
the more thy paine doth spring.
Lookes will not serue to swage thy greefe,
they rather cause thy care,
Therefore to put my wordes in proofe,
see thou thy selfe prepare:
Resort with speede to pitties place,
intreate her for to wrighte,
Some piteous plaint in thy behalfe,
to shew thy painfull plight,
To Lady bewty, that she may,
When she hath tryde thy truth,
Receiue thee as her seruaunt iust,
and on thy wo haue ruth,
Then teaching me which way I should,
the path to pitty finde,
And how I might in eche respect,
declare to her my minde.
She went her way I know not how,
but I to gaine releefe:
And purchase that which was in deede,
my ioy and comfort cheefe.
Did euery thing as she had wild,
and when I had obtainde,
At pitties hand my bill of plaint,
Straight wayes my steppes I straind,
To bewties bower and there ariude,
and knocking at the gate,
Straight starred out an ougly wighte,
whose hart did harbour hate.
He asked me what was my will,
and why I did resorte
Unto that place, to whome in breefe,
I made a true reporte
Of all my state, and why I came,
which done he sayde to me.
Alas pore Lad thou arte vnwise,
and voyde of skill I see:
What thinkest thou heare to purchase ease.
no no thou art deceaude,
Therefore depart, or else be sure,
thy wo will soone be weaude,
My mistresse she to lofty lookes,
to lende an eare to thee,
She will not harken to thy sute,
but if thou earnest be,
And moue her minde with many wordes,
in Dungion deepe be sure
Thou shalt be cast, and during lyfe,
with daunger there indure,
Where sadnesse shall assayle thee still.
and sorrow seeke to share
Thy vitall thread, yet shalt thou liue,
and leade thy lyfe in care.
So long as destinies doe permit.
beware therefore I say,
Take heede in tyme, turne backe againe,
and seeke some surer way.
These wordes did fill my hart with feare,
and made me doubt to doe
The thing which comfort did commaund,
and fancy forst me to.
And had not hope bene hard at hande,
to harten me herein:
Dispayre had put me from that place,
such force his wordes did winne:
And in this sort sayde Hope to me,
Fond foole why doest thou flye,
The pleasaunt plot wherein thy rest,
and happy health doth lye.
Retourne againe, and feare thou nought,
thy practise put in proofe,
To Lady Bewty moue thy sute,
as best for thy behoofe,
For such her gracious goodnesse is,
as neuer will she bide,
That any suffer bale for ought,
but that when time hath tryde,
His true intent she will vouchsafe,
to him his hartes desyre
In eache respect, assure thy selfe,
then hope for happy hyre,
I gaue her thankes for good aduice,
and sayd I would obay:
Wherewith she brought me to desyre,
who made no longer stay.
But led me vnto Bewties bower,
and bad me there attend:
Till she with all her traine came forth.
and meekely then to bende
My knee, in offering vp the bill,
vnto her gracious hande,
Desyring her to view the same,
my mynde to vnderstande.
Which I obserude in eache respect,
my bill she doth detaine,
God graunt it worke so good effect,
as I some hope may gaine.
To purchase that which pleaseth me,
much more then all the Golde
That Midas or King Cressus had,
my ioyes might not be tolde,
If I inioyde that Iewell rare,
That pearle, that precious whyte,
Which though it clad my corpes with care,
doth yeeld me great delight,
And if Dame bewties curtesy,
commit the same to me,
How much I would accoumpte thereof,
she would perceiue and see,
As Diamond deare I would it set,
in collour of my hart,
And keepe it still with busy care,
till death doe cleane conuert,
My corpes to clay from whence it came,
and leaue me voyde of lyfe,
Ye heauenly powers then graunt it me,
to make my ioyes more ryfe.

How Altamenes hauing vnwares slaine his owne Father Cartareus died for sorrow, when he had knowledge thereof.

In Crete which now we Candie call
a fertill fruitfull Land,
One cartareus sometime raignde,
and Septure bare in hand.
Who had to sonne a noble youth,
a stoute and vallyaunt knight,
In prowes proude to haue no peere,
and Altamenes highte
This yong mans name, who being then
desirous for to know
What destiny should to him betide,
the Oracle did show.
That he should cause his fathers death,
which sentence when he heard,
Desyrous for to shun the same,
with speede himselfe preparde
To go and dwell at Camiros,
which towne in Rodes doth stand,
But that which God pretended hath,
no Creature may withstande:
For after in a little space,
Cartareus for to see,
His sonne desyring very muche,
such lucklesse lotte had hee,
That he by might at Camiros,
ariued on this sorte;
But with the there inhabitauntes,
as wrighters doe reporte,
His men then falling at debate,
whereby a tumult rose,
In which was Altamenes then,
to cause his treble woes,
And slue his Father vnawares,
which when he vnderstoode,
Ashamed sore, and halfe dismayde,
he went with heauy moode.
To wander in the wildernesse,
and daungerous desertes wide,
Where after many pittious plaintes,
at last for dole he dide.

The Authour writeth this in commendation of his mistresse.

You Ladyes now leaue of your strife,
For Golden fruicte without delay,
And thou that art Vulcanus wife,
resigne the same with speede I say,
To mistresse mine, that doth deserue,
For to possesse the same by right,
From this my hest seeme not to swerue,
Least thou be forst in open sight
Perforce to yeeld it vnto her,
and so be put to open shame,
Let not thy Godhead make thee erre,
If thou wilt shun all blot and blame,
It is not all thy glory great,
Nor yet thy sonne Cupido he,
That makes thee so with pryde repleate,
Or else thy fathers high degree,
That may my mistresse once distaine
In any point, who doth thee passe
As farre as Golde doth copper plaine.
Or perfect Emrod brittle glasse.
As farre as Phebus doth surmount,
The starre that lendes least light of all,
Aboue thy reache then doe not mount,
Least thou receaue the greater fall,
To her good Grisell may giue place,
Though great her pacience were in deede,
And constant Constance in like case,
For Constance doth them both exceede,
Her name and deedes so well agree,
That they doe varry in no thing,
In sooth it is a ioye to see,
The vertues that from her doe spring,
I know when she meete time shall see,
On any one to fyxe her harte,
She will like chaste Penelope,
Continue his till life depart,
That flattering wordes or fyled phrase,
Or golden giftes, or greedy gaine,
Her constant mind shall neuer cease,
Or make her chaunge her former frame,
That vallyaunt deedes done for her sake,
Nor fetured forme, nor fine deuice,
Shall cause her flye from chosen make.
Or to fond folly her intice,
That neither Fortune good nor bad,
Nor store of wealth nor wofull wante,
Nor smyling cheare, nor countinaunce sad,
Nor absence shall obliuion plante.
That neither threats nor lowring lookes,
Nor dread of daunger shall her draw,
From him whom fyrst for friend shee takes,
No man may keepe her so in awe,
No greefe can gripe her hart so sore,
No paine can pinche her so, that she
Will leaue her faithfull friend therefore,
How base of hyrth so eare he be.
Though this I haue not yet seene proude,
I am right sure it will be so,
For neuer saw I her minde moude,
With trifling tales for friend nor foe,
That she would take in hande the thing,
Which was contrary cleane to right,
but euen as vnder vertues wing,
She had bine trainde, she seemes in sight,
Thrise happy therefore shall he bee,
Whose happe shall be so good to get,
This precious Iewell franke and free,
That will by him so highly set.
And will not any tyme neglect,
The duty of a louing wife,
but please his minde in eche respecte,
Still studying to inlarge his lyfe,
And blest am I aboue the rest,
That haue obtainde to be her man,
Who purpose still to doe my best,
To please her mind in all I can.

An Exhortation to Pacience.

VVhen griping greefes do greeue the minde,
The nicetest meanes that men may finde,
which God and nature hath assignde,
Is pacience well applyde:
For pacience puts all paine to flight,
Yea pacience makes the hart delight,
And doth reuiue eche dulled spright,
by reasons rule and guyde.
For euery sore, a salue it is.
It turnes all bitter bale to blisse,
And he that hath it, shall not misse.
To tast of heauenly ioyes.
Through it the miser likes his lyfe,
Through it he bydes his brawling wife,
Through it he flies all hate and stryfe,
And nothing him anoyes.
Through it he suffers false reports,
And loathes to liue in lawlesse Courtes,
Yea patience dayly him exhortes,
To hold himselfe content?
And though his happe be good or ill,
Yet being armde with patience still.
No euill once he shall fulfill,
But be to vertue bent.
Therefore for pacience let vs pray,
To driue all drowsy dumpes away,
That euery hower doth vs annoy,
Through froward frowning fate,
For vext we are on euery syde,
Not knowing safely where to byde,
And therefore lacke so good a guyde,
To better our estate.
God graunt vs euer of his grace,
That perfect pacience to imbrace,
We may be moude in euery case,
And flye all furious yre.
Let pacience put vs still in mynde,
And make vs hope good hap to fynde,
When moste with cares we are combynde,
To kindle good desyre.

The Aucthour wrighting to a friend of his, that was toward mariage, exhorteth her to make choyse of a wyse and verteous person.

Of the great patience and clemency of King Antigonus.

When as Antigonus did heare,
His Souldiers curling him apace,
Because that in an euening darke,
He led them through a myry place,
That thence they hardly could escape,
He came himselfe to them vnknowne,
And very well did helpe them out,
which friendship when he had them showne,
He sayd now curse Antigonus,
That led you lately in the myre,
But pray for him that helpt you out,
Acording to your hartes desyre.

What misery and misfortunes mankinde is continually subiecte vnto.

What kinde of state can any choose,
but he there in shall fynde,
Great bitternesse and endlesse woe,
to mooue his troubled minde,
In field much toyle, at home great care,
and feare in Forrein Lande:
If ought, we haue, by fortune lent.
In youth Dame Follyes bande
Doth hold vs fast, her she imbrace,
and wisedomes lore do leaue,
In age doth sickesse vs assayle,
and so our strength bereaue.
In marryage is vnquietnesse,
in lacking of a wife
All sollitary we remaine,
and leade a loathsome lyfe.
If God to vs doe children sende,
we haue continuall care.
If none, then are we halfe dismayde,
farre worser doe we fare.
Therefore one of these twaine is best,
desyred for to be:
Not to be borne, or else to dye,
before these dayes we see.

A louer hauing long concealed his loue, at the last reuealeth it and craueth grace at the handes of his beloued mistresse.

Like as the silly soule,
That feeles himself distrest,
With heauy burthen on his backe,
doth seeke to be at rest.
So I whome loue long tyme,
hath led in Captiue bandes,
Enforced am at last to sue
for fauour at thy handes,
That hast my hart in holde,
who onely mayst apply,
Some pleasaunt potion to asswage
the greeuous mallady,
Which long with little ease,
and most incessaunt greefe.
Hath me conserude, twixt life and death,
deuoyde of all releefe.
But needes I must confesse,
There is no fault in thee:
That I doe want my wished will,
the blame doth bide in mee.
For feare, Loues mortall foe,
which caused me to hyde
My secrete sorrowes long sustainde,
from thee in whome doth byde,
The cure of all my care,
hath made me faile to finde,
The thing that most might ioy my harte,
and ease my troubled minde.
But now all feare expulst,
Loue, hope, and hote desyre,
Hath forced me in lew of paine,
to craue deserued hyre.
Which gwerdon either graunt,
else shalt thou shortly see,
That life will leaue my loathsome corpes,
and all by meanes of thee,
Which loth I am should chaunce,
least to thy great reproch,
It blazed be, that thou art she
that set my bale abroche,
Take pitty on my payne,
peruse my dolefull vearse.
Let trickling teares and secret sighes,
into thy intrailes pearce.
Oh rue my rufull state,
my youthfull yeares respect,
And let the tormentes I sustaine,
enforce thee to reiect
All retchlesse rigour, take, imbrace,
loue, like, and neuer leaue.
The wight that will in spight of spight,
to thee for euer cleaue,
Who heare in lew of loue,
doth vow himselfe to thee,
Thy slaue, thy seruaunt, and thy friend,
till dying day to be.

Certaine verses written in commendation of the Rose.

Of a Souldyer who for couitousnesse of a little money, lost his owne lyfe.

When Prenest had bine long beseegde,
by enemyes strength:
With hunger and thyrst they were full sore,
opprest at length,
That many a one for lack of foode,
was forst to dye,
Amongst which sort there then was one,
did lykewise lye,
As did the rest in extreame payne,
vntill he caught,
A little Monse, which one of him,
for money bought.
A hundred pence he more esteemde,
then lyfe to saue,
Although long time the vse thereof,
he might not haue.
So couitous was this mysers mynde,
of worldly muck,
That when he might haue saude his lyfe,
such was his luck,
For loue of money he lost the same,
but was not he,
Requited with a iust rewarde,
as he should be.

The complaint of one Sidaspo, who was imflamed with loue through the bewty of his seruaunt Aletha.

O lothsome lyfe, oh frowning fate,
Oh Fortune most vnkinde,
Oh death come pierce my painefull brest,
to ease my troubled minde.
Oh loue, nay lust, oh fonde desyre,
oh cursed blinded boye,
What meanst thou thus to worke my wo,
and breede my great annoy,
I burne alas continually,
in such excessiue heate,
That nothing may therewith compare,
it semes to me so great,
More hote it is a thousand times,
then Lothsome Limbo lake,
Or Ætna hill, whose flashing flames,
no thing hath power to slake,
And yet some time more cold than yce,
I am pore wretch againe,
Then by and by aboundantly.
the raging herte doth raine,
Whereas I was a mayster late,
and had ech thing at will,
Now must I serue as seruill slaue,
to please my seruaunt still,
What remedy, it boteth not
for me at all to striue,
Against the mighty power of loue,
or any man aliue,
The Prince for all his Princely power,
cannot his force withstand.
The valyauntest wight that euer liude,
durst not hold vp his hand,
Against Cupido for to striue,
or combat for to make,
The wisest can not shun his wiles,
he causeth all to quake,
Yea euen the Gods themselues I fynde,
doe rest at Cupids grace,
And be but Subiectes vnto him,
in euery kinde of case,
Then how should I a mortall man,
deuise to shunne the same,
How dare I once resist the wight
that euery thing can tame,
Aletha oh my darling deare,
thou thou a lone art she,
Which so hast laid thy snares abroade
for to intangle me.
Thou art the dame that I desyre,
to serue and honour still,
Thou art the iewell of my ioy,
thou maist me saue or spill,
But stay: what wordes be these I speake,
shall I become a slaue,
And bondman to my seruaunt so,
her fauour shall I craue,
That should by reason still remaine,
at my desyre and will,
To doe the thing that I commaund,
though it be good or ill.
No no I rather fyrst will choose,
vnto the naked knyfe
My throte to yield, that so I might,
bereaue my lothsome lyfe,
What if I should attempt the same,
what if I should requyre,
The same of her, I am not sure,
to purchase my desyre,
But why doe I misdoubt the same,
before I haue it tryde,
Why he that loueth feruently,
feares not to be denyde,
Why should I any daungers dread,
to winne so fayre a dame,
Well hoping for to gaine some grace,
my letters will I frame.
In dolefull wyse vnto my deare,
whose splendent bewty rare,
Hath so inflamde my hart with loue,
and cloyde my mynde with care,

A Letter which the said Sidaspo sente to his seruaunt Aletha.

Thy bewty braue O Aletha,
thy brestes like driuen snow,
Thy Currall lippes, thy cristall eyes,
and heare which to the show,
Appeares lyke gold, thy fyngers small,
with skinne as yuorye cleare,
And eake thy worthy quallities,
which make thee to appeare,
More lyke a Goddesse for to be,
then any earthly wight,
Would sure allure a stonye harte,
in thee to haue delight.
For as the Fowler in his net,
the silly byrdes doth take,
So hath the same intrapped me,
which makes my hart to quake,
The Adamant stone would neuer draw,
the yron to it more.
Then hath your bewty drawne my hart,
which makes me now deplore,
For loue of you I liue in care,
my sorrowes doe abound,
And death will shortly end my dayes,
if helpe there none be found.
By you I haue receaude this harme,
which none but you can cure,
In you it restes to ease the paine,
that I doe now indure.
Therefore I craue you, shew some grace,
to cure me of my greefe,
Let pittie in your hart take place,
to bring me some releefe,
Oh who is able to resist,
the feruent force of loue,
Or who once wounded with the darte,
is able to remoue
The same from him, now surely none,
though Hectors hart he haue,
Or Hercules strength it will not serue,
from Cupid him to saue.
Therefore O louing Lady deare,
bowe downe thy eyes of pittie,
Consider in thy skilfull braine,
that art both wise and wittye
What tormentes for thy sake I byde,
which by no meanes will cease.
Way well how like a wretch I liue,
till thou doe me release.
By graunting me my hartes desyre,
to cure my deadly smart,
Whereby no harme may grow to thee,
but all to ioye conuart,
My lyfe my goods and all thinges else,
shall rest at thy desyre,
Euen as thy owne at euery time,
if thou the same requyre:
Let reason therefore O my deare,
perswade thee for to yeelde,
To my request by meanes thereof,
from sorrowes me to shield,
Thus for this time I make an ende,
and wish thee well to fare,
In wofull wise, desyring thee,
to thinke vpon my care.

The abiect Louer complaineth of the crueltye and disdainefull lookes of his Lady.

The moste incessaunt painefull panges,
that I haue long sustainde:
By sundry meanes my feeble hande,
to write hath now constrainde.
Thereby to let thee vnderstand,
oh stony harted Dame,
The thing that this my dolefull hart,
(to thy eternall shame)
Cannot conceale, and seeing that
thou rather seekst to be,
My mortall foe, then faithfull friend,
I doe the like by thee,
If (as I am) thou were a man,
then weapons would I vse,
For to reuenge my wrong on thee,
that doest me so abuse,
But sith the tongue the weapon is,
wherewith fond women fight,
My tongue and pen shall now suffice,
to worke the lyke despight.
Who striues against the streame I see,
or sailes against the winde,
Or soweth seede in barren soyle,
but little gaine shall fynde,
So he that sets his loue,
where pryde hath taken place,
shall sooner catch his bitter bane,
then winne one sparke of grace,
As I vnto my paine,
haue proude to late alas
By seruing thee, oh scornefull dame,
that nought therefore doest passe.
For when by letters I,
my meaning doe declare,
Thy aunswere seemes as bitter gall,
for to increase my care,
When as I smyle, thou frownest.
and eake when I am sad,
Then greatly seemst thou to reioyce,
as one whose hart is glad,
If I doe thee salute
in friendly wise, I see
Thou turnest then thy head asyde,
and windste away from me,
The Tyger fierce in tyme,
is made both meeke and tame.
The stone through often drops of raine.
that fall vpon the same,
Doth weare, the mountaines hye,
and strongest holds of all,
In tyme may by some casualtye,
be forst to ground to fall,
Yea Nilus may in time,
(for all his scope of streames)
Be dryed vp, and cleane consumde,
through heate of Phebus beames,
There is no thing an earth I thinke,
but may in tyme conuart:
Except it be in womans brest,
a hawty stubborne harte.
Which neither reason, gentle wordes
nor pittie can procure,
For to reuoke hir wilfull minde.
that setled is so sure,
My wound was wondrous deepe,
the paines I did indure,
By meanes of thy great crueltie,
my sorrowes did procure,
For thou in whome it onely lay,
to remedy the same,
In steede of salue didst poyson yielde,
my ruine for to frame,
Oh cursed wretchlesse rase,
of wicked woman kinde,
How can your hartes so cruell be,
to them that you make blynde,
What hart of flinte hath he,
who hauing hurt a man,
That is his friend, to cure his payne,
will not doe what he can.
But thou a cruell Crocadile,
Ingendred in the floode,
Of foule Onilus wilt not graunt,
to doe thy pacient good.
Few women at this day doe lyue,
that guyde themselues so well,
But if one vertue good there be,
which in their brest doth dwell,
Two worser vices for the same,
is found in them to be,
Which doe the vertues cleane deface,
and force them for to flee,
They can condicions chaunge,
to cause their friendes vnrest,
As the Chameleon chaungeth hue,
When as it likes him best,
If that they be disposde,
pore louers to allure,
They can as wily wayes inuent,
their purpose to procure,
As the Hiena can,
by learning of the name,
And calling them whose present death,
they purpose for to frame,
Such pittifull complaintes,
the Sirens can not make,
As can these wicked women doe,
if once they vndertake,
No beast so brute as they,
if once they fall to vice,
No asse more foolish then they are,
yet doe they thinke them wise.
If one their bewty praise,
then doe they looke so hye,
As though they straight wais would presume
to scale the lofty skye.
yet doe I not condemne herein,
all women to be ill,
But some yea euen the greatest part,
are subiect to their will,
As I haue had iust cause to say,
who proued haue the same,
Through thy vnkindnesse shewde to me,
O most disdainefull Dame,
And therefore humbly doe I craue,
of heauenly Ioue aboue.
That thou for this thy crueltye,
like greefe to myne maist proue,
And thus I make an ende as now,
of this my bitter vearse,
As one compeld by womans pride,
their dealinges to rehearse.

A commendation of the Cock.

Who can such worthy praises giue,
vnto the Cocke as he,
Deserues to haue, now surely none,
for fyrst of all we see,
How carefull of our healthes he is,
who least we should be harmde,
At midnight with his crowing oft,
doth warne vs to be armde,
And at the dawning of the day,
to letify our minde.
He doth the lyke, and biddeth vs,
good morrow in his kinde,
Againe were not the Cock I pray,
what Poultrie should we haue,
What other byrde or pleasaunt foule,
that we so much doe craue,
Our dainty Dames should be content
to feede on courser fare,
If that it were not for the Cock,
that dainties doth prepare.

A commendacion of the Robin redde brest.

VVhen Hyems with his hory frostes,
and blustering Boreas blaste,
Had runne his race, and Lady Ver,
his pleasaunt course had past,
Then Æstas entred in by course,
and Phebus golden rates,
Whose scorching heate mild Zephirus,
asswagde at all assayes,
Were spread abroade through euery coste,
which causde eche thing to ioye,
Then was it pleasure great to see,
the little Fishes play,
And friscoes fetch about the bankes,
to fynde some pleasaunt baite,
Whiles they vnwares intangled are.
by Fishers foule deceite,
Then euery tree is fresh and greene,
then Flora on the ground,
Her mantell spreades, and fertill fieldes,
with pleasaunt Flowers abound.
The dainty Dames from euery place,
doe thither fast resorte,
And Garlandes make of cropped flowers,
of sundry sent and sorte,
In euery streete great stirring is,
some quasse and make good cheare,
Some leape, some daunce, some sing, some play
some chase the light foote Deare,
Here Orpheus with his pleasaunt Harpe,
there Amphion with his Lute,
Doe make moste pleasaunt melodie,
and carping cares confute,
The amorous youthes doe stray the streetes,
and with their Ladies walke.
And some againe doe passe the day,
with passing pleasaunt talke,
So euery man to please his minde.
some pastime doth frequent,
To driue away all drowsy dumpes,
and sluggish sloth preuent.
It chaunced so this time,
that as in bed I lay,
Oppressed sore with painefull pangs,
about the breake of day
I started vp, and forth I walkte,
into the fieldes so fayre,
My selfe to solace there at will,
and take the pleasaunt ayre,
The ground that garnisht was with flowers,
did yield so sweete a smell,
That noysome sauoures none were felt,
It did them all repell,
Then past I forth with stealing steps,
and lookte about me round,
To take a view of euery thing,
wherein I pleasure found,
And by and by from farre me thought,
I seemde a sounde to heare,
Which still the further that I past,
more pleasaunt did appeare,
It was so sweete a melody,
that sure I thought some muse,
Or else some other heauenly wight,
did there frequent and vse.
But as I cast mine eye asyde,
on braunche of willow tree,
A little Robin redbrest then,
there sitting did I see,
And he it was, and none but he,
that did so sweetely sing,
But sure in all my life before,
I neuer harde the thing,
That did so much delight my hart,
or causde me so to ioye,
As did that little Robins song,
that there I hard that day,
That did so much delight my harte,
or causde me so to ioye,
As did that little Robins song,
that there I heard that day,
The Poets faine that Orpheus made,
both stones and trees to daunce,
When he vppon his Harpe did play,
They also doe aduaunce
So muche Arion for his skill,
that when into the seas
He should be cast they said that he,
a Dolphin so did please,
That safe she brought him vnto shore,
when death he did aspect,
And from all perrils perrillous,
did him right well protect,
Mercurius made the hundred eyes,
of Argos all to sleepe,
With playing on an Oten pipe,
his knowledge was so deepe,
Yet sure I thinke their harmony,
might not coequall be,
With that this little Robin made,
it so delighted me.
Nay sure I thinke the Muses nyne,
may not with him compare,
Nor yet Apollo for his skill,
whose musick was so rare.
Full often times my hart doth wishe.
this prety byrd to haue.
For more then any worldly thing,
the same I still doe craue.
And if my luck might be so good,
this Robin once to gaine.
Then greatly would my ioyes abound,
and hart should feele no paine,
For neuer did I see the thing,
that I so well could leeke,
Therefore aboue all other thinges,
to haue the same I seeke,
For collour and for comlinesse,
all byrdes he doth surmount,
His flesh as very delicate,
full many men accoumpt,
God graunt therefore that I may gaine,
this Robin at my will,
Then doe I hope to vse him so,
that he shall tarry still.
For rather would I lose my lyfe,
and all thinges else besyde,
Then from my Robin I woulde parte,
at any time or tide.

The long acquainted Louer writeth to his beloued, whose grace he desyred.

Of one Vrbina a Virgin vestall, taken in adulterye.

Vrbina a Uirgin vestall in adultery being taken,
With roddes about the cittie was whipped therefore,
And of all her friendes then being forsaken,
Was buried aliue, whome none did deplore,
And of the Adulterers that did her deflower,
The one did slay himselfe that present hower,
The other the ouerseeers of the temple then,
Caused to be executed in the market place,
That he might be a warning to all other men,
To teach them the path of vertue to trace.

Of one Cianippus, who in his dronkennesse deflowred his owne daughter ciane.

Of Siracuse cianip
Because that he did offer,
His Sacrifise to all the Gods.
and none to Bachus proffer,
Was stroke with such a drunckennesse,
that meeting in the darke,
His Daughter Ciane, her deflourde,
but what did follow marke,
She to the end to vnderstand,
and know who did the deede,
From of his finger plucke his ring,
whereby she saw with speede,
That it had bene her Father deare,
and after when the Citty,
Was plagued all for this soule facte,
and that by sentence wittie,
Of th'oracle it willed was,
the Authour of the act,
For to be sacrifised vp,
for this foule fylthy fact,
Whereas none knew who it should be,
or what did cause the same,
Ciane with afflicted minde,
remembring it did frame,
Her Fathers death, who being dead
herselfe she also slue,
And on his corpes her corpes she cast,
for euery man to view.

Of one Ceselius Bassus a Carthagenian, who deceiued the Emperour Nero.

Ceselius Bassus on a time,
vnto king Nero tolde,
That in a Caue within his ground,
was hid great heapes of Golde,
Which he (he sayd) supposde to be,
of Didos hiding there,
Unto which wordes he credite gaue,
and from that place to beare,
The same, he did full many send,
the Orators in meane space,
Commended Nero saying that,
he stoode in Fortunes grace,
And that he was of all the Gods,
beloude and fauourde most,
Within whose time such welth was found,
That had so long bene lost,
And hidden in the bowels of
the earth full many a day.
Wherefore in hope of new found wealth,
this Emperour made away,
The store he had but in the end
When they were at the place,
Whereas this treasure should remaine,
Ceselius made them trace,
From this to that place vp and downe,
to seeke the foresaid caue,
And myners many one did seeke,
by skill the same to haue,
If any there should hidden lye,
but laboured all in vaine,
He said some sprite had him deceaude,
and did a furie fayne
But to auoyde the present teare,
and shame that should arise,
He slew himselfe and Nero left
still gaping for his prise.

The tragedy of Meliager, sonne to Oeneus King of Calcedonia.

Parthaons sonne, Oeneus King
of calcedonia lande,
To all the Gods did institute,
and offer with his hande,
His sacrifise saue onelye to
Diana dyre, whome he
For hatred or forgetfulnes
remitted, wherewith shee
Full greatly greeude, a huge great Bore,
did send to waste the lande,
That made much spoyle in many a place,
and no man might withstand,
Untill Oeneus at the last,
in mind opprest with greefe,
A generall hunt ordeyned had,
whereof his sonne was cheefe.
That Meliager hight, with whome,
besides his vnckles twayne,
That [illeg.]oxeus and Plexippus hight,
there went as bookes shew plaine,
A Uirgin fayre the Daughter,
of Iasius great of Fame,
Through all Arcadia where he raignde,
Atlanta was her name,
Who with a stroke she gaue that Bore,
Did make him fyrst to bleede,
And therefore when the Bore was slaine,
to recompence that deede,
To her the head and humbles both
did Meliager giue.
Which soone from her his vnckles tooke.
so much it did them greeue,
Wherewith Meliager sore displeasde,
did therefore slay them both,
Which when his mother Althea knew,
she waxing wondrous wroth,
Into the fyre the brand did cast,
whereon his lyfe depended,
Which being wasted cleane away,
then straight his life it ended,
For whose dicease his Sisters all,
full lamentably mourned,
Till they at last amidst their wo,
to Turky Hennes were turned.

Lenuoy.

These foresayde thinges who noteth well,
to fyre them fast in mynde,
He shall not fayle for his auayle,
good fruicte therein to fynde.
Fyrst by Oeneus are we taught,
at no time to neglect,
The duty which we owe to God.
but chiefely haue respect,
To honour him, and laude his name,
that leddeth lyfe to all,
Which errth containes, who lifts vs vp,
and likewise lets vs fall,
Whome Seas obay, whome heauens adore
and all thinges else besyde,
Who sees and knowes our secret thoughtes,
though we the same would hyde,
And as he is a God moste iust,
so iustly will he render,
His grace vnto the penitent,
although a great offender,
Deseruing death most damnable,
so mercifull is he.
That as he saith, he doth not seeke,
a sinners death to see,
For when from depth of hart we will,
our hainous crimes confesse,
And craue forgiuenesse at his handes,
we soone shall finde redresse,
But when no mendment he perceiues,
nor warninges to preuayle,
Then with his mighty hand he doth,
vs wicked wight as assayle,
And vs and all our progeny,
vnto the death pursues,
Then praise we God, and vnto him,
all reuerence let vs vse,
And you O Captaines that doe guyde,
and gouerne Armies great,
Ye Magistrates and Rulers all,
that are with pryde repleate,
Leaue of lyke lawlesse Lordes to liue,
Of Meliager learne,
To yield to ech his due desert,
as reason shall disearne,
Who merrits golden gaine to get,
for worthy workes committed,
In countreyes cause let his reward,
in no wise be remitted,
So shall you surely reape renoune,
and purchase peoples loue,
Yea valyaunt minds to vallyaunt actes.
thereby you soone shall moue,
You enuious sorte at prosperous state,
of men that doe repine,
That grutch to see another gaine,
with most mallicious eyne,
Forsake that foule infyrmitye,
that hurt with vertue heale,
Which vexeth euery vaine of you,
for grace to God appeale.
Else shall confusyon come to you,
and that which you did craue,
To light on others that be sure,
your selues alone shall haue,
By Meliager murtherers may
a good example see,
To cause them shun to seeke their blood,
with whome they greeued be.
Least that the same to heauenly Ioue,
from earth do vengeaunce erye.
and so their soules be damde in hell,
when corpes in graue doe lye,
For God so much a murderer hates,
that be he Prince or peare,
Yet blood craues blood, and vnto God
the Begger is as deare
In all respectes, as is the King,
that rules in regall raigne,
Who murdereth shall be murdered,
who slayeth shall be slaine,
What measure men to others meate,
with that they shall againe,
Be measured this finde we true,
by tryall euery day,
Now last of all let sisters learne,
where vertue beares cheefe sway,
To loue their bretheren feruently,
as nature doth requyre,
So shall they purchase praise of all,
that know their good defyre.

A yong Gentlewoman wrighteth this for aunswere to a Gentlemans Letter, that craued her loue and exhorteth her to keepe promise with him, wherein excusing her selfe, by her ouer yong yeres, and his vnhabillitye; she prayeth him to cease of his sute.

Your Leeters syr I haue receiued,
and pondring well the same,
Haue now preparde my selfe thereto,
an aunswere fit to frome,
Though in your writ you rome and raunge,
aboute the bushe a while,
And vse huge heapes of needelesse wordes,
my sences to begyle.
I see you seeke, but all in vaine,
to winne me to your wife,
Which I may not vouchsafe to graunt,
for feare of further stryfe.
Because it is not in my power,
to doe it, though my will,
Were wholy bent thereto: but in
their handes whose prudent skill,
And wisedome great is such,
as knowing what for me,
Moste meetest is, to your demaund
will neuer once agree,
And as their care is very great
to doe me good, so I
(As duety binds) in all thinges will,
thy selfe to thein apply.
Your welth likewise is very small,
as you your selfe confesse,
And mine not great, and am right sure,
it would be so much lesse,
If following fancyes flateering words,
or fained vowes, I should
Contrary doe to friendes desyre,
and that which worst I would,
Their loue and fauour lose thereby,
therefore cease of your sute,
Content yur selfe with reasons rule,
and doe no blame impute
To me at all, whose tender age,
ne wit ne welth will serue,
To take in hand so great a charge,
but I therein should swerue.
And for that cause I doe not mynde,
to match with any one,
Untill I be of typer yeares,
nor promise plight to none,
Yet when I doe, I will apply
my selfe in all I may,
To choose a wise and prudent mate,
That walkes in vertues way:
Prouiding therewithall,
that welth doe neuer want,
sufficient alwayes to maintaine.
the fruicte of such a plant:
For whereas liuing lacking is,
to maintaine such estate,
Their perfect loue will soone peruert,
to cruell cancred hate,
And whereas rooted rancour raignes.
all thinges to ruine runne,
Yea vertue chaungde to vice most yilde,
decay they cannot shunne
That shall be matched so, wherefore,
doth wisdome alwayes will,
In time conuenience heede to take,
if we will shunne such ill,
But though I know right well, the vse
of many men to be,
With flattering wordes, and fyled phrase,
as did Æneas he,
To Dido, and false Demophon
to Phillis faire his friend,
For to deceiue vs silly soules,
that neuer hurt pretend,
But credite all their cloked craft,
that beares a simple shoe,
Till we be caught in Cupids snare,
so fast, that forth to goe
We haue not power, and then vnkind
they leaue vs in the lash,
A iust reward no doubt for such.
as will be ouer rash
In that they take in hand, yet I,
not iudging so of you,
But thinking that your loue profest.
both perfect is and true,
Doe yeelde you thankes therefore,
and humbly pardon craue,
For that I may not giue consent,
to that you seeke to haue,
The cause and reasons tolde before,
that doe in deede deteine me,
Perswading still the contrary,
at all times doe restraine me,
As for the promise which so much,
you vrge me for to keepe,
Assuring me by breache thereof,
to runne in daunger deepe,
No promise haue I made, whereon
you may so much take holde,
I am right sure, but that I may,
to breake the same be bolde,
But if I had, yet euery one
would iudge you farre vnwise,
To challenge any at my handes,
in whome it nothing lyes
For to performe the same, sith of
my selfe nothing I haue,
Nor wit to know what thing is ill,
or what is good to craue.
And therefore ayming very wyde,
and as one wanting sight,
Doth throw his staffe, so doe you shoote,
but shall not hid the whight,
And therefore now to make an ende,
I humbly you requyre,
No more to mooue me in such sort,
but brydeling your desyre,
And pondring rightly this reply,
which here to you I make,
To feede no more on foolish hope,
But this for aunswere take.

The lamentable complaint of a louer, who notwithstanding his diuerse daungerous trauailes, and continual sorrow sustained coulde fynd no fauor at al at her hands that was the causer of his callamity but cruell contemt, to counteruayle his curtesy.

How foolish women are in the choyse of their Louers.

The Smith whose toyling trade,
besmeard his face with sweat,
And made him like a Croyden Knight,
with working in the heate,
More lucky was in loue,
then Hercules the stoute,
The one inioyde a dainty Dame,
the other went without,
Vulcanus had to wife,
the Lady cheefe of loue,
Whose passing bewty peerelesse was,
as Paris plaine did proue.
But long Alsides serude,
fayre Iole at her will,
In womans weede, and yet did fayle,
to finde her fauour still,
For oft it is the trade
of women, to ellect
Lewde lumpish loutes deuoyde of wit,
and wiser wightes reiect,
A Clowne that from the Cart,
is come in court to serue,
In whome there is no kinde of cause,
good liking to deserue,
Shall catch a gallaunt gyrle,
and purchase at her handes
That others lack, whose faithfull hartes,
were scortcht with Cupids brands,
Then let him loue that list,
for I will leaue the lure,
Of those lewde Dames whose diuelish driftes,
such cursed cares procure.

Varinus hauing found in the night time that which plesed his fancy he commendeth it much, and craueth to be accepted for her seruant whom he intyrely loued.

Though many much mislike the long
and weary winter nights,
I cannot but commend them still,
for diuerse dere delightes,
The night we see, brings siluer steepes,
sleepe courseth care away,
Cares being cast from out the mind.
there harboures happy ioye.
Where ioye aboundes, there helth hath place.
where happy helth doth bide,
There life lastes long, this proofe shewes plaine,
and may not be denyde:
Lo this the happy night procures,
which wrought my wished will,
Therefore I must before the day,
preferre and praise it still,
But some perhaps will maruaile much,
my fond effect to heare,
Let them not spare mine knowes the cause,
why I so straunge appeare,
In this my vnacquainted verce,
such darke conceites to write,
Nor neuer shall, but onely I,
and she whose bewty bright,
Did in the darke hath bleare mine eyes,
and lend me perfect light,
She she it is that knowes full well,
from whence my Muse proceedes,
Yea she it is that both my blisse,
and bale together breedes,
Her presence doth procure my rest,
her absence workes my woe,
Her chearefull lokes doe cheare my hart,
her sorrow makes to flow
Whole floodes of teares from out mine eyes,
and killes my hart with care,
Whose comly grace and courtious deedes,
doe make her seeme as rare
As in the world the Phenix is,
and blessed would I count
My selfe, and say that in good luck,
all others I surmount,
Might I but once such grace obtaine
at her sweete handes, to be
Accepted as a seruaunt still,
no more is craude of me,
Which if I might atchieue, no doubt,
I would my selfe apply,
To please her so in eche respect,
as she should truely trie,
And so confesse, she neuer found
so fyrme a friend before,
Or seruaunt of such secresy,
that did esteeme her more:
What so she could commaund or will,
by day or else by night,
On sea or Land I would fulfill,
though death appeard in sight,
Or all the greefes that griefly ghostes,
in Limbo lake sustaine,
Should me assayle with furious moode,
to make me to refraine:
Yet should it not withdraw my minde,
from doing her desyre,
Hap good or ill, what so betide,
I would thereto aspyre,
And wages none at all I craue,
but leaue it to her will.
According to her curtesy,
her fancy to fulfill.
But when she hath made profe of me,
as she shall best deuise,
And sees my seruice what it is,
if she in any wise
Mislike thereof, let her withdraw
From me her fauour quight,
And vse what kinde of way she will,
to worke me more despight.
For as my health on her dependes,
So if I want her grace,
I loth my lyfe and wish for death,
to reaue my rufull race.

The great loue that Itafernes wyfe bare to her brother.

When Itafernes with all his famely,
Were taken captiue By Darius army,
And cast into prison with great extremity,
His wife euery day,
Came to the kings gate making pittifull mone,
That these her plaints to take pittie vpon,
At last he was moued with mercye alone,
As wrighters doe say,
In so much as one vnto her he sent,
Who willed hee then with right good intent,
In the Kings name to cease to lament.
And freelye to chose
The deliuery of one, and she should him haue,
Then she aboue the rest, her Brother did craue,
Whose life and libertie she most sought to saue,
To lessen her woes.
The King then wondring that she would prefer
Her Brother before the rest that were there,
Yea before her husband and children most deare,
This aunswere she gaue,
An other husband I may get quoth shee,
And other Children if Gods will it be,
But my Parentes being dead, more bretheren then he,
I neuer can haue.

The straunge pangs of a pore passionate Louer.

Not as I am, nor as I wish to be,
But as falce Fortune frames my froward fate,
Euen so I am not bound nor fully free
Not quite forlorne, nor yet in quiet state,
I wish for death, and yet the death I hate,
This life leade I, which life is wondrous straunge,
Yet for no life would I my lyfe exchaunge,
I seeke the sight of that I sigh to see,
I ioy in that which breedes my great vnrest,
Such contraries doe dayly comber me,
As in one thing I find both ioy and rest.
Which gaine he gets that is Cupidos guest,
For whome he catcheth in his cursed snare,
He giues great hope yet kils his hart with care.

Of the thankefulnesse of a Dragon towardes a man that had brought him vp.

As Bruson mention makes,
one Thoas in his youth
Brought vp a Dragon yong,
and of a certain truth,
When as he greater grue,
fearing his nature fell,
Conuaide him thence into a woode,
and left him there to dwell,
It hapned after Thoas was,
within that wood beset
With many Theeues, at which self time
not making stay or let,
When as the Dragon heard his voyce.
which he remembred tho,
He rushed forth and rescued him.
from those that wisht his wo.

R. D. Being inflamed with the loue of a very bewtifull Gentlewoman, by a sodaine view that he tooke of her, doth colourably declare his case vnto her.

As late I walkte abrode for my delight,
To put all foolish fancies from my minde,
It was my chaunce vpon a plot to light,
Wherein I did great cause of comfort fynde,
A goodly Garden garnisht euery where,
With fragrant flowers of sondry sort and sent.
No straunge deuice could he that wanted there;
That euer wit of man might well inuent,
A goodly christall spring ran through this place,
Whose bankes with sundry trees was brauely deckt,
To shew ech thing by course, would craue long space,
And yet some part I should of force neglect,
But that which made me most of all to muse,
Was to behold ech thing so well conuaide,
And could not finde that any one did vse,
To make abode therein, yet halfe afrayde
(Though cause were none) I durst not enter in,
But stoode as one amasde, this sight to see,
That whosoeuer then had present bene,
Would not haue thought that life had lodgde in me,
My sences failde, my feete were fixed fast,
My sight waxt dimme, yet staring stoode I still,
But comming to my selfe againe at last,
And seing there no signe of any ill,
Nor none that would my passage once restraine,
But that the gates wide open stoode to all,
I banisht feare which earst procurde my paine,
And did determine what so should befall,
To enter in, and view it round about,
And so I did in deede without anoyt,
For nothing was there which I neede to doubt,
But all thinges turnde vnto my treble ioy.
When as I fully had ech thing suruaide.
And fed my fancy as it likte me best,
Into an Arbour I my selfe conuaide.
And there lay downe to take my quiet rest,
Into a heauy sleepe straight wayes I fell,
And then me thought there did appeare in place
Two gallant Dames, whose bewty did excell,
Whereof the one beholding long my face,
At last with stealing steppes approcht more neare,
And drawing forth a knyfe in dreadfull wise,
Did pierce, the part which I esteemde most deare,
Which done from of the ground she gan to ryse,
And by and by did vanish out of sight,
Which way or how, I could not well perceiue,
Wherewith I wakened (being sore afright)
So much it did my quiet rest bereaue,
And then my naked body I behilde,
To see if any wound would there appeare,
But euery place with flesh was fully filde,
No wound was seene, ech place was fayre and cleare,
But when I rose, with mind to walke from thence,
Such grisly greefe did gripe my tender hart,
As for a time it hindred my pretence,
And from that place I scarce had power to part,
Yet as I could, although my pase were slowe,
I at my lodging did at last ariue,
And layde me downe in greefe which still did grow,
And greater waxe, and happy helth depriue,
I sought Phisitions helpe, my hurt to heale,
But Phisick could ne whit at all preuaile,
And therefore still I must the same conceale,
And as a wight forlorne my woe bewayle,
Untill the louely Dame that did the deede.
Uouchsafe her grace to ease my present greefe.
In her it lyes my bitter hale to breede,
Or if she please to render me releefe,
Which if she once refuse I am right sure,
My lothed lyfe that hope doth now prolong,
Shall not long time be able to indure,
But die I must, because she doth me wrong.

An aunswere to a Letter that was not onely darke, but also so disordered, as their could no sence be perceiued in it.

Vnloked for, I did receiue of late,
Such lynes as led me into double doubt,
Fyrst whence they came, and from what minyon mate,
And secondly I mused whereabout,
And for what cause they should to me be sent,
But when I had perusde them ouer well,
Was neare the nexe in knowing thy intent,
For such a sencelesse tale thou seemdste to tell,
And so confuse, as what I should conceiue.
Of any part thereof I knew not I,
To stayed Studienes I the same will leaue,
By learned skill the secrete sence to trie,
Unlesse that thou that didst deuise the same,
Wilt take the paines to glose vpon the text,
And set to shew the figures thou didst frame,
Whereby it seemes thy mind is much perplext,
For neither doth the matter match aright,
Nor yet the vearce but varries euery where,
I speake in sport, no cause I haue to spight,
And as thou wisht, so with thy want I beare,
Loue is a lawlesse Lord, both he and his
Are free from blame what so they doe or say,
And therefore though they sometime come amis,
That once haue leaned to his lucklesse lay.
The fault is in the froward fittes they feele,
Which leades their mindes to like of many thinges,
And still to turne as doth the whirling wheele,
Whereof the fruicte of folly freely springs.
Thy worthy worke may well compared be,
Unto A building brauely decke without,
The inward partes whereof, who so shall see,
May finde it framde of clay and durt no doubt,
For on the same when fyrst myne eyes I bent,
The entraunce bare so braue a modesty,
That sure I thought some Muse the same had sent
From Helicon to please my fantasy,
But when I had a little further past,
Such paltrie pelfe presented was to me,
As draue me into other thoughtes at last,
So great a chaunge so sodainly to see,
But borrowed ware will beare no better show,
An Ape's an Ape, though robes be neare so ritche,
The good from bad a man may easily know,
This makes thee claw whereas thou doest not itch,
Well galdback well, although I rubde thee now,
If that thou winche, I way it not a might,
Such cloked cunning can I not allow,
Halt not henceforth when Criples are in sight,
For trust to this thy Peacockes borrowed tayle,
Cannot so craftely be coucht on thee,
But that the fine deuice thereof will fayle,
If it be matchte with those that kindly be,
In fine I wishe thee if thy mind be moude,
To beare the matter more at large set out,
Which to prouoke thou hast so blindlye proude,
Then make it plaine, and cleare it cleane of doubt.
Let finenesse goe and vse no secrete slight,
To couer that which cannot be consealde,
And then will I as well pluck vp my sprightes,
To open that I haue not yet reuealde,