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A Courtlie controuersie of Cupids Cautels

Conteyning fiue Tragicall Histories, very pithie, pleasant, pitiful, and profitable: Discoursed uppon wyth Argumentes of Loue, by three Gentlemen and two Gentlewomen, entermedled with diuers delicate Sonets and Rithmes, exceeding delightfull to refresh the yrkesomnesse of tedious tyme. Translated out of French as neare as our English phrase will permit, by H. VV. Gentleman [i.e. Henry Wotton]
Wotton, Henry (1568-1639)
 
[dedication]

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The Pleasure of the firste dayes Pastyme.
 
[If thundring threates of mightie Ioue aboue]
 
The complaint of the ciuill warres of Fraunce.
 
A welcome of Peace into Fraunce.
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The firste Historie.
 
[In passing by this place, my frende]
 
[VVhat moueth men abashed thus to stay]
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The seconde dayes pastime.
 
[In shrowde of shadie verdant vine]
 
[VVhy doo the Lillies fade away]
 
[Let vs conioyne in nuptiall bedde]
 
[VVhat thing, the elder that it growes]
 
[VVhat can a speedie course maintaine]
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The second Historie.
 
[Not long agon an honest countrey man]
 
[VVhy vauntest thou in braue aray]
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The third Dayes delight.
 
The louer standing in doubt of good wil writeth this.
 
The seconde Song.
 
The thirde Song.
 
[VVhat cruell and immortall strife]
 
And in the Dryades Table, this Cenotaph ensuing.
 
[Here loyall Loue with beauty knit]
 
[Thou passenger, one harte, one minde]
 
[The apple of the goddesse fair]
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The fourth dayes delight.
 
The Satyres song.
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The fourth Historie.
 
[Ah trayterous eyes, you haue betrayed your forte]
 
[Oh drowsie night, the dame of dreadefull dreames]
 
[Even as the Orient peerelesse pearle]
 
[If thou remember, (Nimph) I praye thee tell]
 
[Ovt of the Easte did spring]
 
[The mirrour of might]
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The pleasure of the fift dayes pastime.
 
In the White hande.
 
In the Blacke hand.
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The fifth Historie.
 
[Dame Beautie pearelesse wight]
 
[The fierie skies doe not at all times flame]
 
[No forte or castell builte by force to feare the foe]
 
[I did requyre of late this onely boune of Loue]
 
[The daily lampe, that I ames amid the Christall spheare]
 
A brawle of Poictow.

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[Dame Beautie pearelesse wight]

1

Dame Beautie pearelesse wight,
the mother of my greefe,
Sith thou in suche dispight
disdaynest my releefe:
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2

I doo repent me sore
I so pursude thy grace,
I will doe so no more,
Ile hunt an other chase.

3

I will go arme me sure
agaynst that glaring eye,
VVhose smiling gleames procure
the meanes to make me dye.

4

Yea I will stoppe mine eare
agaynst the sayned speache,
VVhose suttle sound I feare,
will be my mortall leache.

5

Ile shunne the curled locks,
which in a Net of golde,
Hath meshed me with mocks,
that make my hart full colde.

6

The snowishe Lilly brest,
full fraught with louely lore,
Shall lose of me a guest,
I will byde scorne no more.

7

But will renounce the sight
that drownes me in desire,
And boyles me day and night
in flames of quenchlesse fire.

8

And henceforth search the way,
to liue in libertie:
VVill works to voyde delay,
but loue will not agree.
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