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[What Fortune so fell doeth foster my fall]
[_]

The prose narrative has been omitted. Songs and verse extracts only have been reproduced.

What Fortune so fell doeth foster my fall,
what heapes of griefe doe grow:
The hope of my stay, is causer I say,
to aggrauate my woe.
Sing lullabie, lullie, lullabie,
sing lulla, lull, lullie.
Lullabie, lullie to rest thee, sweete childe,
with sleepe deere childe rest thee:
It doubles my paine, I still doe complaine,
if thou be rest from me.
Sing lullabie, lullie, lullabie,
sing lulla lull lullie.
Syth fate is so fell, we can not possesse,
the soyle which vs did reare:
Haste Atropos, haste, my twist for to waste,
to ende tormenting feare.
Sing lullabie, lullie, lullabie,
sing lulla, lull, lullie.
Thy daunger, sweete Infant, makes me to mone,
and liuing thus, to die:
If so it be prest from thy dying breast,
my vitall breath shall flie.
Sing lullabie, lullie, lullabie,
sing lulla, lull, lullie.

[Caliope assist my quill]

Caliope assist my quill,
With Sisters three lend me the skill,
Your ayde I craue, I want the same,
For to describe this pearelesse Dame:
Who is the flower of beautyes trayne,
Which Nature made her selfe to stayne,
Her azure veynes on forehead hie,
Doe shine so bright as Christall skie.
Her Amber hayres with wyers of golde,
Trim'd in good order to beholde.
Her eyes beneath her browes doe shyne,
Which doe intrap the gazers eyne.
Her Visage shewes like Roses cleere,
Where redde on white seemes to appeare.
Her nose so comely set betweene,
Where excellencie may well be seene.
Her cherry lippes so soft and sweete,
Her teeth within so whyte and meete.
Her dimpled chinne so round and bryght,
Might well entice a mort-fied wyght,
Her necke the piller of this Peere,
With skinne so whyte, and veynes so cleere,
Vpholdes a wonder to the eye,

Excelling natures puritie.
Her Armes, two branches of the vine,
Where nothing els but beautie shine.
Her shoulders bene the roote, I trowe,
Whereof these braunches fine doe growe.
Two bosses shine in siluer breast,
Nothing inferiour to the rest.
They be the hilles which doe inuite,
Gaye Venus darlings to delite.
On eyther side is finely dight,
Like armored scales shining bright.
Two rowes of Ribbes so euen and iust,
That when one mooues, the other must.
Next vnto this, the Waste so small,
Beneath her stately breast doeth fall,
That with a spanne might there be found,
The compasse of her middle round.
Beneath the hill, fayre Adons hill,
Whereof in Ida he did swill.
The pleasure sweete of loues desire,
Too rare to be a mould of myre.
Next vnto this the summe of all,
Which as I ought, I dare not call.
A seale of Virgin waxe at hand,
Without impression there doeth stand:
Then thyghes so fine, and smoothe as Iett,
Betweene the which a way is set,
Of eyther side as soft as downe,
The readie path to high renowne.
Her knee so knitting legge and thigh,
Like Scalap-shell of Azure skie,
Doeth double beautie ioyne we see,
Which Venus mooues to ielousie.
The Kaulfe euen rising iust betweene,
The gartering place and small is seene,
As pointed Diamond Anckle bright,

Like droppes of dewe on Roses white.
Her presse so soft with foote so fine,
That where she goeth scant grasse do twine,
Thus haue I framed her partes in kinde,
And yet the chiefe is left behinde.
Which last I left, though it be least,
Yet for memoriall to the rest.
Her hand is it, her hand in sight,
The glistering glasse of beautie bright.
Her lillie handes eche looker paines,
Embroydered with azure veynes,
By arte such workes did neuer passe,
Vnlesse her hand a sample was.
Her peble fingers long and small,
Tipte with yuorie beauties call,
Shin'd so bright as Titans rayes,
My penne wants skill to paint her praise,
The beautie of this pearelesse peece,
Surpasseth farre the Queene of Greece.
Whose countenace and Maiestie,
Doeth rule the sterne aboue the skie.
Yet curteous, modest with distaine,
That euerie rowling eye doeth paine.
Her loftie thoughtes and high desire,
Are neuer mou'd with fancies fire.
Who so hath seene, let him repent,
Who neuer her view'd, may well preuent.
For hope deceiues each one that proues,
In such a soyle to plant their loues.

[When lordlie Titan in his chiefest pride]

When lordlie Titan in his chiefest pride,
Ouer-spread Auroraes blushing countenance,
And Triton on his grayish steedes did ride,
In calmed Seas, on waues the Nayades daunce.
No duskie vapour couer'd the welkin cleer'd,
Phœbus (discouering ay the heauens) appear'd.
Here Iupiter presented no escape,
Then watcht by Argus hundreth waking eyes,

The Syrens then transformed no mans shape,
Nor to intrappe layd foorth their watching spyes,
And Proteus in his wonted shape remain'd,
For Nature would that nothing should be stayn'd.
Princes then walkt abroad for their delight,
Courtyers attend vpon their princes trayne,
Of tempestes Sea-men were not then affright,
The husbandman did hardly plye his gayne.
Dame Flora eke did couer the earth with greene,
Procuring hope most liuely to be seene.
Minerua then the Chaos did vnfolde,
Of these so farre vnordered terrene thinges,
That in good order you might all beholde,
Truss'd in a fardell vnder Fortunes winges.
Well may I crie alacke and well away,
That Fortune frayle did beare so great a sway.
It was the rusticke Goddes festiuall day,
When shepheardes quaint doe frolicke with their mates,
With stones blacke that time well marke I may,
For then begun all my disaster fates.
Then with a smile fell fate did couer a fraude,
To perfect which, Beautie made Fame her bawde.
Fame carefull then for to perfourme her charge,
Sounding due prayse, redoubled in mine eare,
Venus ouer-match, she blazed then at large,
Which stroke my bodie in a quiuering feare.
This rare reporte being heard, I wish to see,
If earthly Wightes affoorded such a shee.
I came, I sawe, nowe Cæsars fate I want,
For to ouercome: wherein I may dispayre,
Her statelie lookes my hoped hap doeth scant,

And day by day doeth still my ioyes impayre,
For that my minde lyeth in her princely bowre,
Whose beautie doeth excell Loues paramour.
A liuing minde in dying corpes I haue,
My bodie here, my minde with her doeth stay,
A speedie death, if her I loose, I craue,
Whose sweete consent is euen that blisse-full Boy,
Which onely is the harbour of my rest,
In whose high thoughtes I wish to builde my nest.
Thou glistering Phœbus, hide thy shining face,
If euer thou view'st the beautie of this Dame,
Her brightsome hew will sure thy lightes disgrace,
The rarest wyght by her may blush for shame,
Whose glorious lookes doe still present a iarre,
Twixt fire and water there lyeth peace and warre.
O would I might (but what thereon may fall,
I knowe not well) once compasse her goodwill:
Or that I had not (nowe too late I call
The thing farre past) her knowen my ioyes to spill.
Then had I liu'd and ledde a quiet life,
Where nowe I pine with pure tormenting strife.
Sure shall desert there merite but disdaine,
Where high desire doeth lodge in loftie thought,
Seeing Loue and Fate doe still conspire my paine,
Voyde of all hope, I count my toyle for nought.
Yet naythlesse hope for to obtaine thy loue,
Not fearing aye the thing thou neuer didst prooue.

[VVhen Phosphorus declining West her tracke]

VVhen Phosphorus declining West her tracke,
Commaunding Nox her charge to take in hand
And for to spread abroad her curtaine blacke,
By Natures course to couer both sea and land:
Then at her becke a clowdie vale in stept,
And terrene thinges quite from our sight hath swept
By this had Phœbus clearely made escape,
And Vesperus his action did assoyne,
Of Thetis Queene then cloyed with the rape,
With Lucina in coiture doeth ioyne:
From whome he cleerely receiu'd away his light,
Least she should blush, being seene in such a plight.
Lucina then her budding hornes did stretch,
And borrowing of her Louer light, appeares,
When Morpheus presented to me poore wretch,
A sight, which still my dulled senses cheeres:
Ah cheeres: a wofull cheere: woe worth the time,
That makes me thus to spend my golden prime.
What fancie moou'd, folly did put in vre,
And Queene Desire did straight appoint the game,
Which once begunne, no hope could helpe procure,
Beefore I loose, to giue it ouer were shame:
Although Dispayre doeth say that I shall gaine,
Nought for my toyle, but heapes of cruell paine.
Cupid then smyl'd such Clyent to possesse,
And thank'd Morpheus that procur'd the same,
Venus mislikte I should rest in distresse,
Least after I would ay renounce her game.
Shee fitted me, with opportunitie
To speake: alas I spake: all would not be.
All would not be, what then: ah dolefull chaunce,

Haue all the Fates confederated my fall:
Yes, yes: too soone I did my Barke out launce,
And eke commit my sayle to windes a thrall:
Wherefore rowe backe thy barge to natiue porte.
In earnest end, what thou begun in sport.
That thou begun in sport: a heauie sport,
Which is the worker of thy great annoye,
Thou canst not long endure in such a sort,
Exempt from hope of any earthly ioye:
Vnlesse the Saint, that wrought this deepe distresse,
Pityes thy panges; and doe thy paynes redresse.
Thy paines redresse, if not foorthwith, too late,
For Phebe thrice her wasted hornes renew'd,
Since I was forc'st by spitefull frowning fate,
To come and seeke the sight I latelie view'd,
Which viewe my paines, so destinie assign'd,
For at her handes no hope of grace I finde.
No hope of grace I finde, woe me therefore,
Without whose grace my life can not endure,
Oh that I were not as I was of yore,
Free from the scathe which doeth my harme assure,
Then would I keepe my finger from the fire,
And quite renounce the Lawes of fond desire.
Of fond desire the Lawe, oh lawlesse Lawe,
Which doeth extreemes combine and ioyne in wrong,
And ministreth pilles, which will not from the mawe,
This from the eye, not from desert is sprung,
A fickle Iudge for to discerne the right,
Which blinded is with force of beauties might.
The force of beauties might: a power-full might,
Which can compell the proudest to obey,

Whose meere report hath brought me to this plight,
Deuoyd of hope: for sorrowe beares the sway.
Wherefore as Fame me forc'st this paine to prooue,
There I began, and there will ende my loue.

VER OSAES song.

And must the Punie that learned Gammut scant,
Muse vpon Crochets trebled oft and oft:
Or who of Arte the perfect groundes doeth want,
To iudge thereof, shall he then clime aloft:
No, no: of trueth his cunning prooues but vaine,
And so herein shall I such merite gaine.
But seeyng your doomes is a commaund to speake,
I will not sticke, (yet blame me not therefore,
If I doe erre) for that my skill is weake,
So that of right the blame is yours the more,
Appointing her of colours Iudge to be,
Who being so blinde, can therein nothing see.
For Cupids craft, euer fronted with a smyle,
Hath neuer pierst my panting virgins breast,
For I abhorre the Caytiffes crafty wyle,
Wherewith the Louers fond are euer opprest.
I wish my friendes neuer for to prooue such fate,
Least vnto them repentance commeth too late.
For to repeate the Louers dreaming thoughtes,
If skill to me had taught the ready way,
Howe with loues frowne they seeme like dampned ghostes,
Were toyled too much, and eke would make you say,
That I a foe were to humanitie,
Therefore with this, I craue excused to be.

CONELIVS song.

Who aymes at honours worthy name,
And coueteith renowmed fame,
In no wise can thereto aspyre,
Without the ayde of Queene desire.
Oh mighty Cupid, Venus boy,
Accept of mine vnfayned ioy.

She sits triumphant in her seat,
And foes with furious lookes doeth threat,
Which do blaspheme with wordes vnmild;
Against her selfe and bonny child.
Oh mighty Cupid, Venus boy,
Accept of mine vnfayned ioy.
A child, whose force and mighty hand,
The great God Mars could not withstand,
That burneth like a lampe of sire,
In fleeyng thoughtes wing'd with desire.
Oh mighty Cupid, &c.
Whose shining beames doeth plainly show,
The ready way for them I trow,
For to aspyre to dignitie,
If loyall Louers they will be.
Oh mighty Cupid, &c.
Lo, here behold the honours due,
To amorous hearts that will be true,
But who dislodgeth from his bowre,
Shall soone perceiue his rodde is sowre.
O mighty Cupid, &c.
And that he may with force confound,
Each liuing wyght that goeth on ground,
All you that doe this God despise,
Flye from his reach if you be wise.
O mighty Cupid, &c.
But he that mean'th not to disdaine,
For pleasures sake to take some paine,
Ioyne with the rest that amorous be,
And to his Court to gaine your fee.
Oh mighty Cupid, Venus boy,
Accept of mine vnfained ioy,

FLORIDAES song.

Lately when Aurora drewe
Curtayne, which was darke of hewe,
Which vnspred shewed light,
That couered was by Lady nyght:
And blushingly discouered ay,
Her loues bed wherein she lay,
Then Titan lordly-n his seate,
Dryed vp moysture with his heate,
And chased hath the vayle darke,
Of racking clowdes for his parket:
Fishes swamme in siluer streame,
And I vnripped seame by seame.
Circumstance of natures mould,
Which rare seemed to behold.
Gazing thus with eyes of minde,
There I could nothing finde,
Which pleased not curious eye,
And therewithall I gan to spye:
Narcissus that was so fayre,
With his golden lockes of hayre,
Which of late had scorned all,
That were bent to Cupids call,
Viewing there the water cleere,
Where his beautie did appeare,

He thought it had another beene,
Whose like before he neuer had seene.
Thinking to embrace a shade,
(That of a substance scorne had made)
He consum'd in loues desire;
Of such force is Cupids Ire,
That prepares the bed of woes,
To all such as be his foes,
And to intrap, he snares doeth lay,
Such as doe him disobey.
When I sawe his doome so dyre,
To such as despis'd his fire:
At his flame I thought to warme,
Least I catch'd the greater harme.
Then in haste I came away,
Like aspyne leafe quaking ay,
For feare of the mighty God,
That all threatned with his rod,
That euer would disloyall be,
To his Mothers progenie,
His iudgement pronounced was,
With such terrour, that alas,
I heare it sound in mine eare,
Moouing body to pale feare,
Least I should incurre his Ire,
Which might yeeld me chiefe desire.

Moderatus song.

When golden Titan did the Ram forsake,
And warmed the Bull with force of greater heate,
Then foorth I walked the pleasant ayre to take,
Glad when I heard the silly Lambes to bleate.
Pleas'd to behold the stormes of winters ire,
(With quiet calme) at last for to expire.
As thus I mused vnder the silent shade,
The chirping birdes chattering their harmonie,
Pleasant slumber my sences did inuade,
And then I heard a voyce that lowd did crie,
Who worth the time that I did yeeld consent,
To lawlesse Loue, which now I do repent.
The golden shaft that pearst my panting breast,
Came from the quiuer hang'd at blind Cupids side,
Which hath so full bereaued me of rest,
And therewithall againe he lowdly cryde,
Woe worth the time that I did yeeld consent,
To lawlesse Loue, which now I doe repent.
Phœbus reflecting beames from polished glasse,
Yeeldes not more liuely shewes then doeth her face,
That is the cause of this my harme, alas,
Well may I say, being hopelesse in her grace,
Woe worth the time that I did yeeld consent,
To lawlesse Loue, which nowe I doe repent.
Whereat I wak't, but nothing could I viewe,
Which made me thinke a vision it should be,
And straight I rose to see what would ensue,
And then a nouell strange appeared to me,
A frozen man being in a fierie flame,
Another fryed in frost, (woe worth the same.)

Afore I could the meaning vnderstand,
This strange Aenigma vanished quite away,
Whereat amazed much I then did stand,
Thinking that wofull wyght did lately say,
Wo worth the time that I did yeeld consent,
To lawlesse Loue which nowe I doe repent.

[When Flora flourished in her prime]

When Flora flourished in her prime,
bedeckt with gallant greene:
Had ouerspred the subtill soyle,
most liuely to be seene.
No wit could chuse but wonder much,
to see such gallant Dame,
Attyred so gay with Maiestie,
belonging to the same.
She trac'd abroad with pompous pace,
and troupes of royall trayne,
Both male and female followed her,
the Prince and Country-swaine.
Each one so placed in his degree,
as best did fitte his state,
Some pleased with his happy chance,
some cursed his frowning fate.
Before her went, but dare I speake,
what there I did beholde:
A Princely youth, a mighty King,
a God both stout and bolde.
His amber lookes so gaily twyn'd
like crysped wyers of golde,
His beauty so rauished my wittes,
I can it not vnfold.
In one hand he did beare a bowe,
the other carryed fire:
Which would consume the stubburne sorte,
that seru'd not Queene desire.

And at his side a quiuer did hang,
wherein was arrowes twaine:
The one with golde full finely typt,
that Louers vse to paine.
The other leaden headed was,
which makes disdayne in heart:
Who so is towch'd with this, of Loue
shall neuer feele the smart.
He winges did beare, in token that
who did his fauour require:
That he should beare aspyring minde,
and wing'd with high desire.
But last, which doeth not payne me least,
the worlde to him was darke:
He could not see to giue to each,
according to desart.
Thus marched Flora in her pompe,
chiefe Actrix of the game,
And ministred matter to the rest,
delighting in the same.
She is the frute of pleasant Ver,
most liuely to be seene:
Which glads the hearts of youthfull wyghts,
and beautifies the greene.
She matter yeeldes to Cupids mates,
for to effect their ioy:
And he delightes within her bower,
her company to enioy.

This vnitie betweene these twaine,
did boyle the feruent mynde,
And made each liuing thing to cleaue
by Nature to his kynde.
The God of Loue did fancy force,
and Flora frute did yeelde,
Conuenient to effect the same,
twixt pleasant groues in fielde.
Wherefore by heapes the Amorous troupes,
resorted to the place:
And followed still this Princely crew,
their pleasures to embrace.
Whose Maiesty when I beheld;
and stately countenance,
Not Mars in field seemed so stout,
with warlike bloody launce.
For presently he vaunc'd him selfe,
vnto a stately throne,
More gorgeously then euer was wrought,
in timber or in stone.
It was emboss'd with bordering bowes,
and brancht with knots of greene,
No wyght by arte could frame the lyke,
but flourishing Flora Queene.
About this seate where Cupid sate,
the chyrping byrdes did sing,
And his Venerian Clyents eke,
a dolefull knell did ring.
Some merrily did laugh and sport,
possessing heartes desire.

And others cryed for equity,
being skorched with his fire.
This Chaos of confused sport,
did make me much to muse,
If that I should this God adore,
or so to doe refuse.
As thus I stood, not yet resolu'd
what course therein to take,
I had a summons to his Court,
my fealty to make.
Then did I seeke to wrest by force,
his will for to withstand,
All that I could, I striu'd: yet was
to weake my faynting hand.
Loe I which erst their follyes blam'd,
am now perforce constrain'd,
To yeeld obeysance at his barre,
which late the same disdain'd.
Wherefore I burne, and so must all
that dallieth with the flame,
Euen as the Flie turning about,
is perished in the same.

PRISCVS song.

VVhen Titan gan the Crancke for to ascend,
And touch'd the point ecliptike in the skie,
Each thing on earth did then him selfe desend:
Euen from his parching beames, that did welnye
Consume all things, (with violent force of heate,)
That walkt abroad in this terrestriall seate.
Princes did keepe within their princely bowres,
With bowes of greene their chambers hanged were.
Wherein they dallied with their paramours:
The windes lay silent in their concaue sphere
All sought that night (at pleasure) take their ease,
Of raging heate the furie to appease.
The sillie swaynes (wo 's me, the sillie swayues)
Vnder a Pine in silent shade did rest,
Ah rest, which restlesse still my poore heart paynes,
Where with euen now my carkasse is opprest:
Vnwitting then their secrets I ouer-hard,
To what I did not taking good regard.
It was the great God Pans festiuall day,
When shepheards quaint do plod it with their kinde,
Of rusticke pipes they made a consort gay,
To honour Pan each sport they cald to minde:
Thus they did banket with their musicke rude,
When to the same my selfe I did intrude.
Where when I did intrude, my heart I pawn'd,
For floating fame did fill mine eares with praise,
Of Venus peere, whose becke is a commaund,
And then desire that is a spurre alwayes
(So fortune would) did pricke my wounded minde,
(But in her sight) that no where ease I finde.

A combat straight within my selfe arose,
Of that I should yeeld vnto Queene desire,
Knowing that fame is partiall as she goes,
So I might fall in seeking to aspire,
Then Ladie Loue said that I must obey,
Which sentence past, I durst not make delay,
Fortune thus fram'd the plot to mine annoy,
Fame blew the coales to kindle my desire,
Loue did command I should no rest enioy,
Till I were clens'd in Cupids purging fire,
Thus I doe range to seeke a remedie,
And though I liue, yet liuing daily dye.
Seing Fame of beauties pride could me enforce,
What maruell is 't if beauty it selfe could moue?
But oh that beautie had not some remorce,
To yeeld me due, that feruently do loue,
Or at the least to pitie mine estate,
And not for loue to yeeld me deadly hate.
The God is blinde that workes this mysterie,
And doeth not worke according to desart,
But yet I yeeld me to his Maiestie,
In hope at last he will regard my smart.
In the meanetime I banish quite despaire,
Expecting him my wracke for to repaire.
Repaire if that he will, long may he raigne,
Triumphing wise to gouerne both Gods and men,
If otherwise I can not griefe refraine,
But must seeke out a darke and dolefull den,
In deserts wilde to end my dismall dayes,
And Hermyte-like on rootes to liue alwayes.

[The fluent streame that leades a swelling tyde]

The fluent streame that leades a swelling tyde,
When Aquilon the raging waues doeth reare,
Bounce not more oft vpon their bankes so wyde,
That with their force the stony rockes doe teare.
Then panting doeth my heart her prison walles,
Iumpe oft against, and iumping sudden falles.

The little current stealing through the vale,
Being stopt in course aboue her banke doeth swell:
So stealing loue supprest, doeth make me pale,
For why, in thought I feele a present hell.
Thou maist direct the streame her course to keepe,
And free my heart that lyeth in prison deepe.
The little shrubbes in downes stirre not at all,
And meane mens thoughts are seldom sauc'd with care,
When mightie Cedars shakt with windes do fall,
And noble mindes on chaunces hard do fare.
Loue lookes not lowe on Idiots rustie ragges,
Nor cares not much for Marchants welthy bagges.
But Loue (as Iuy claspes the tree) takes holde,
On vertue, which is seated in the minde,
And eke on Beautie pleasant to beholde,
Neuer hoping for a better hap to finde,
Then for to yeeld when heart on hope is paund,
And to obey when honour doth commaund.
Your beautie sweete did claspe my tender breast,
My heart is paund your heast for to fulfill,
Loue in my secret thought hath built his nest,
Honour commaunds I must perfourme his will:
Wherefore within your orient beauty faire,
Doeth wholly rest my wracke for to repaire.

[The vaine delightes that please the curious eye]

The vaine delightes that please the curious eye,
By proofe I finde to turne vnto their paine,
Such obiectes rare do darke the sence: for why,
The beames thereof reflecting, pierce againe
With double force the faithfull Louers brest,
Vntill by stealth it robbes his quiet rest.
The pinching paine that doeth torment the minde,
Is more increas'd by glauncing of the eye,
Which can no where a quiet habour finde,
But in the heart, such is his vrgent might.
The vertue then of a light rowling looke,
Vnder a baite doeth hide a hydeous hooke.
Like Iett attractiue, and like pearcing steele,
The heauiest things vnto it selfe it drawes,
Nothing so hard, but yeeldes: wherefore I feele
My heart is drawen vnto his proscript Lawes,
And pearced eke by force of subtill sight,
Wherefore I yeeld vnto his lawlesse might.
His might hath captiue tane my pensiue heart,
His might hath made my hauty brest to bend,
His might hath turned my iesting vnto smart,
His might enforst me scalding sighes to send
From skorched brest, where carefull thoughtes enioy
Hope of nought els, but liuing in annoy.

When brutish beastes doe chew their cuddes in shade,
Nought doe they care for barren winters foode,
Who knew but shallow foords, feares not to wade:
Euen so each louer in his merrie moode,
(When fortune smiles and holdes him in her lappe)
Thinkes not this calme doeth breede an after-clappe.

[If wearie sleepelesse rest]

If wearie sleepelesse rest
In nightes doe argue care,
And dayes with dole opprest
To them that louers are:
Then watchfull cares that with my colour grew,
To heate extreme shall prooue me louer true.
Mee louer true, then trueth
Deserueth trust I trow,
Which motiue is too ruthe
In such as grace doeth grow.
No pittie then without desert I craue:
For what I bought I merited to haue.
To haue what faith may reape,
And loyall loue obtaine,
I ought to haue like cheape,
As I doe sell againe.
With loyaltie I purchase all my loue,
God graunt againe that others faithfull prooue.
If faithfull others prooue,
I prize my paine for nought,
If tryed trueth may mooue,
I haue the thing I sought.

If neither may take place, I pine with woe,
Dye had I leuer, then liue and liuing so.

[None may this sharpe and cutting sword vncase]

None may this sharpe and cutting sword vncase,
But to redeeme the daughter of a King:
Nor any Knight this Armour bright vnlace,
Nor of his vertue bragge in any thing:
But he there with that shall a Tigre tame,
For to defend a princely virgins name.

[The Ocean seas for euery calme present]

The Ocean seas for euery calme present
A thousand stormes: so howerly doeth my minde,
While that I doe excogitate the euent
Of things, wherein great mysterie I finde.
With paine I prooue a treble dammage losse,
Sith Fate my heart in waues of griefe doeth tosse.
The wonder late I sawe, wherein I thought
A strange and rare effect for to containe,
Was, when I view'd your face, which in me wrought
Such deepe desire euer yours for to remaine.
That when I finde that hope forbids to prooue,
To seeke redresse, I languish for your loue.
But froward Fate too cruell dealt with me,
To ruminate vnto mine eares your fame:
Yet glad thereby that you redeemed be,
Though I do pine when thoughtes present your name.
In that I can not still possesse the sight
Of your sweete selfe, that sole may me delight.

[How can I sing, and haue no ioy in heart]

How can I sing, and haue no ioy in heart,
In heart no ioy, a heauy dolefull iest,
A iest, God wote: that still procures my smart,
A cruell smart that breedeth mine vnrest.
Shall I then sing, and can not iest nor ioy,
Nay rather weepe thus liuing in annoy.
Why should I weepe, or heauie lot bewayle:
Why should I sobbe, and sigh with sobbing care:
For herein teares, sighes, nor sobbes can preuaile,
But hope may helpe to rid me from this snare.
The valiant minde condemnes such trifling toyes,
Though cruell loue bereaue his wished ioyes.
O balefull ioy reioysing in the sight
Of beauties flowre, a flowre like Cockeatrice.
Whose view doeth pearce the man of greatest might,
And doeth subuert the reason of the wise.
Such was the sight that did inthrawle my sight,
Such was the spight that wrought me deepe despight.
Haue I then pawn'd my credite to this end:
Haue I my life in ballance put therefore,
Her life to saue and credite to defend,
And brought my life to thraldome for euermore.
And may not hope this curtesie to haue,
Euen at her handes, her champions life to saue.
Despaire not man, thou hast not tryed her truth,
Doubt not before that she an answer giue,
Seeke first for fauour, women be full of ruth,
Though she denie, let no deniall grieue.
Women will say, and will vnsay againe,
And oft refuse the thing they would obtaine.

[Haue heauens conspired my balefull destinie]

Haue heauens conspired my balefull destinie:
Haue fates decreed my thraldome to prolong:
Will Mersa at all rue on my miserie:
Or shall I euer continue in this wrong:
Woe worth the houre, wherein thou hast bene borne:
Despayring thus like to a man forlorne.
Forlorne: for that thou darest not sue for grace
Of her, who sits like Iuno in her throne,
Driuing the lookers on into a maze,
To whom in vaine I daily make my mone.
Yet at her handes no hope of grace I finde,
That still torments my poore perplexed my minde.
Liue long thou tree, wherein these lines I graue,
And witnesse beare of this my loyaltie,
And how I seeke of her some fauour t'haue,
Whose heart is framed in forge of crueltie:
Then shall I liue though dead I be in graue,
With louers true, and challenge place to haue.

[What rare desart hath moou'd my mind]

What rare desart hath moou'd my mind
to follow fond desire:
What fate to fell hath fram'd my fall:
What fortune did conspire:
What platt was laid: what time doth worke
to aggrauate the same:
What daunger thereof doth ensue,
I attribute to fame.
For had not fame a blabbe bene found,
for to extoll her praise,
That is the causer of my payne,
then Mersas oft delayes
Had neuer disturb'd my quiet rest,
for I my flocke had fed,
When I for ease, and they for food
had better farre bin sped.

[By Vestaes tapers, and her holy fire]

By Vestaes tapers, and her holy fire,
By all her troupe of sacred Virgins kind,
Which vowed are to pure and chaste desire,
By Cybll's wise and sage presaging wind,
Which turne her ordered leaues (as is decreed
By heauenly powers) to good or bad with speed.
By Siluan Nimphes, oft troubled with great feare
In shunning of Siluanus raging lust,
Who still their flaring haires with griefe do teare,
Least rapes they be vnto this god vniust,
Whose horned shape their dammage will procure,
If he them winne to cease vpon his lure.
By the great care of Daphne, flying fast
From the pursuit of Bacchus hote desire,
Whose burning flames hath made the Nimph agast:
To turne whose shape the gods did then conspire,

To a Bay tree, which lasteth to her fame,
And euer groweth greene in honour of her name.
By Procris rage and byting ielousie,
When by the same her death she did sustaine,
By all the rites of pure virginitie,
And by Dianaes chaste and holy traine
I sweare, (and that vnuiolate shall rest,
What euer mishappe or fortune me molest)
That first from Pontus waues, where Isters fall
In braunches seuen is to the raging sea,
Each one of these returne their courses shall,
And backewardes shape the same without delay
(Against the course and force of Natures seede)
To seeke the spring from whence they did proceed.
Before that Mersa mooued with fancies forme,
Shall make a shipwracke of her honestie,
I rather leaue the sicker Swaines to storme,
Then I should feele of loue the tyrannie.
I know not what it is, nor dare not prooue,
Who tryed may say: no heate to heate of loue.
Although that Nictinen in raging wise,
Pearst with the shaft of the blind wanton boye,
Paid for her lust after too deare a price:
Yet meane I not so wantonly to toye.
I loue no Owles, nor yet their Musicke hoarce:
From such fond loues, I meane to make deuorce.
I like not Venus wanton toying trickes,
With Adon sweete her louing heart and ioy:
I loue not them whome fond desire still prickes,
Nor yet these simpring Dames that be so coy.

I hate their lust, I banish their desire,
I will not warme by their fond fancies fire.
No shapes transform'd to gold, to Swan, or Bull,
Shall pierce the fort of Mersas constant thought,
Nor euer my minde in follyes cradle lull
Such vaine delightes, I count them all for nought.
If euer I loue, I will not loue in haste,
Who seekes me so, in vaine his toyle doeth waste
If ought may mooue my minde to stoope to loue,
Vertue thereof shall sure the conquest make:
No light desire veneriall actes to prooue,
Ne any thing my settled minde shall shake.
But tract of time by due desart me leade,
For more then this it booteth not to pleade.

HYMONS Song.

Thou Hebe sweet which in the heauens doest stay,
And to the gods doest heauenly Manna bring,
Fly from the skyes, packe hence with speed away:
In earth below there is a fairer thing,
A Nymph it is, the fayrest of all fayre,
Who (thou being gone) must where thou art repayre.
For Iupiter being moou'd with her good grace,
Will thee despise, and her in stead prefer:
With enuie burst to be in such disgrace,
And dye for griefe. The goddes sometimes do erre,
Sith they so fickle seeme, and chuse to change,
When fancie stirres their wauering mindes to range.
Depatt not yet, from heauen thou shalt not wend,
Vse diligence the goddes againe to please.
Let Mersa rest: sweet Mersa on earth attend,
My troubled thoughtes and pensiue cares to ease.
Without whose grace nothing can pleasant be,
Nor ought remaine a hearts rest vnto me.
How oft tuckt vp like Amazonian Dame,
With bowe and quiuer tracing these groues among,
Following the Deare, or els some other game,
And killing oft the fayrest in the throng.
The goddes them-selues being mooued with her loue,
To winne the same in vaine full oft did prooue,

They proffer kisses sweet and giftes in vaine,
They garlands make of choyce and finest flowers,
They bring her fruit, but nought of her they gaine,
They smyle and sing, she looketh coy and lowres.
Full of disdaine her tramels she doth shake,
Which makes the stowtest of vs all to quake.
O would she were not so hard to be pleas'd,
O would she shewed more gentle fauour to me.
Happier then I, could nothing then be prais'd,
But she reiect'th my louing lasse to be.
She doth despise my prayers, and griefs disdaynes,
She flies from me, which still my poore heart paynes.
O Mersa stay, flye not so fast from me,
Faire Mersa stay, no Lestrigonian bruit,
Doth make pursuit to feed his lust on thee:
But one, if thou him knew, whose honest suit,
Is worthy of the same he doth desire,
And burnes for thee with chast and holy fire.
And though my corps doth sauage seeme with haire,
And beard vnkempt an vgly thing to see:
Yet am not I deform'd, for beard is faire,
And hayres decent for such as valiant be.
When strong men fight nyce meacocks they do feare,
And Schools to daunce, and not to fence they reare.
If ought for wealth thou likest, a shepheards stocke
I haue, and few doth more then I possesse:
For heards I keepe, and eake full many a flocke,
A thousand kine do feed on finest grasse,
Of swine great store, and cattell fat withall,
And goates in rockes their bleating kiddes to call.
Store of throme milke in season still I haue,

My chest is full of cheeses new and olde,
Take what thou wilt, thou need'st not ought to craue,
For all I haue is thine, whereof be bolde.
My selfe also (though thou the same refuse)
Is at thy becke, thereof to take the vse.
If thou would'st daine to walke sometimes with me,
Gather I would the Apples mello we fine,
And clustring grapes with full ripe figges for thee,
And Filberds kernels eake if thou were mine:
With these I would thee eramme my prettie peate,
For whome great store of bloody droppes I sweate.
Howe oft would I thy tender corpes then clippe,
And eke the same in folded armes combine,
With thousand kisses would I presse thy lippe:
Doubt not of these: to pittie eke incline,
And come with me (least that my paine increase)
To cure my care, and thraldome to release.
By pleasant springs our ease then we will take,
Embracing there sweete sleepe will vs depriue
Of wanton sport: when semblance we do make,
Not howe with gaine and lucre for to thriue,
(In silent shades) but of meane mirth and ioye,
When greatest minde we haue to wanton toye.
The hanging boughes and murmuring streame will striue,
Who best may please and worke our sweete content,
While raging force of Summers heate doeth driue.
Howe deare to me would be thy sweet consent:
Alas thou nought doest weigh my giftes, nor loue,
Whose heart faire speach, nor weeping teares may mooue.
More cruell then the Hircan Tigre fierce,
More deafe then th' Images of Marble made,

More hard than stones that engines none can pierce,
Art thou:in fine whose beautie sure will fade.
Though nature did the same to thee ordaine,
But not true Louers sute for to disdaine.
So vnder freshest flowers the Adder lay,
So Hyble hath honie commixt with galle:
Trust not to forme, which with ripe flowers decay,
Forsake thy pride, for pride wil haue a fall.
And while the same in prime doth flourish most,
Loose not the time in vaine, thou crau'st being lost.
Vse thy good giftes while thou hast time (each thing
By reason of his vse commended is)
For withered age deformity will bring,
Too late thou wailest when thou doest find the mis
Of thy faire face to wrinkled furrowes turnde,
And thy bright hew with Phœbus beames being burnde.
How oft in glasse wilt thou behold the same,
And then condemne the follie of thy youth:
That would not hunt, while time affoorded game,
Then shalt thou find the prouerb old a truth,
Which euer was, is, and so will be alwayes,
That time and tyde for no mans pleasure stayes.
But why poure I my plaintes vnto the wind:
Why doe I throwe my seed to barren sande:
I striue in vaine, of fate some fauor to find,
That cruel is my hap for to withstand
Fate, more than gold or gentry doth loue haile,
This scornes the Prince, when subiects do preuaile.
And though more fyence then serpent thou be set,
Me to annoy that am thy carefull thrall:
For with thy frownes my inward soule doth fret,

Yet will I wait, and eke attend thy call,
And loue thee still, which in my heart shalt rest,
For Mersa alone in mind and mouth is prest.

PHILETAS song.

Mersa, more white than flowre, or new burnt lime,
Or raging salt-sea fome, or milke reboylde:
More red than Cheries, ripe by force of time,
Or Beries yet with taint of blacke not soyld:
More faire than flowring trees in spring of yeare,
More sweete than figges, that new and ripe appeare.
Such pappes had Venus none, such rolling eyes,
Such cherrie lips, both sweet and fine in tutch:
Why should I praise her soft and wel made thyes,
For better were to feele than talke of such.
Both Goddes and men therewith enamoured be,
For with mine eies a Satyre I did see,
Pursuing her, whom tane, he forste to yeeld,
Shee clamor made, then aide I would haue brought,
But to defend my selfe I had no sheeld,
Against his force, that with his hornes me sought,
Of such a Riuall fierce I dnrst not proue,
The mighty force, though pining for her loue.

Oh then how oft with signes she beckt at me,
And when I came me clipt in tender sort,
Euen as the vine or luie claspes the tree,
And wanton-like did bite my lippe in sport,
And flapt me on the mouth with decent grace,
Firme vowing then none other to embrace.
But what alas all this is now forgot,
And she againe recouered libertie,
I seem'd then sine, but now a foolish sot:
For that she weighes none of my miserie.
To serue her turne my seruice could her please,
But nought at all my bondage to release.

[What fancies foule doth sillie maydes entise]

What fancies foule doth sillie maydes entise,
To like and loue the false and flattering wight,
What Viper would the selfe same thing dispise,
Which erst he sought with all his force and might:
But fond I was, and fickle his desire,
Like bauens blaze, that soone was set on fire.
Such fire it was that wrought my deep annoy,
Such foole I was, that credulous would proue:
And trust repose, in him that did but toy,
And full of lust would counterfeit some loue.
Loe to my care with griefe of heart I find,
His flattering words, which were but blasts of wind.
What Cockatrice, so pleasant once could smile,
And couer fraud with such a glorious baite:
Who would haue thought such beautie couered guile,
But Fowlers still their snares being laid, do wait,
And counterfeit, the sillie birds to trap,
So did this wretch, the more is my ill hap.
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