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The Castell of Courtesie

Whereunto is adioyned The Holde of Humilitie: With the Chariot of Chastitie thereunto annexed. Also a Dialogue betweene Age and Youth, and other matters herein conteined. By Iames Yates

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Verses written for one, who espyinge his friends fauour and countenance to be altered from the former fashion, to satisfie his request, he wrote as followeth.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Verses written for one, who espyinge his friends fauour and countenance to be altered from the former fashion, to satisfie his request, he wrote as followeth.

I see and dayly spy, by open viewe too plaine.
That those which once estem'd of me, begin me to disdaine
And much I muse thereat: but my ill lucke is cause,
I stand in doubt and dumpish dreed, and somtime in a pause,
I sigh, I sobbe, I waile, I knocke vpon my brest,
I tosse me here, I tosse me there, as one that takes no rest:
I looke like sillie soule, with ruthfull running eye,
And cast my head oft times abacke good countenance to espy:
But Lord how coy it seemes, and squaimish to the showe,
I neuer thought yt courteouse kind such malice once would owe.
Oh Fortune fickle Dame, in whom remains no trust,
Whose wauering chaunces are no stay to groūd vpō for iust,
As thou procurest friendes, so thou procurest foes;
As thou makes rich, so thou makes poore euē as thy pleasure growes
As now to day to laugh, to morrow for to weepe,
And those yt wake in pleasure sweet, at length in daūger sleepe
Thus vpside down thou roulest ye whirling wheele of chaūce,
And I accompt them happilesse, that most thou dost aduaūce.
As for my onely state I blame thee oh of right,
For sure none the causer was but thou of this my spite:
Thou broughst my liking first, and I was well esteemed,
And had a contenaunce voyd of hate, & solely I was deem'd,

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To be in presence more, then euer since I was:
But now a chaunce against me vnhappely doth passe,
For why? I dare not halfe so boldely now aspire,
I dare not once presume, to warme me by the fire,
I dare not Parle [illeg.] so bolde as I was wont,
For if I doe the aunswere comes both sharpe, both tarte and blunt:
And head is hanged downe, and eyes doe locke aside,
And faces of the other sorte are made as they woulde chide.
Wherfore you flattering flurt, Dame fortune by your name,
A vengeance take thy truthles trade, for thou didst cause the same:
But though in thy dispight, yet will I vse my ioy,
And neuer soake my heart with care, although they seeme so coy:
For they are but thy fittes, I knowe it very well,
When pleasantnesse is so disposed, such thinges he can expell:
To which most happy time, I trust, but not to thee,
For thou art still of flatring kind and euermore wilt be.