 | Chvrchyards Challenge |  |
To the right honourable Sir John
VVolley Knight, Secretary for the Latin tung to
the Queenes Maiestie, and one of her priuie Councell:
Thomas Churchyard wisheth increase of honor,
blessednes of life, and abundance of worldly felicitie, and heauenly happines.
To the worthiest sorte of People, that gently can reade, and iustly can iudge.
A new kinde of a Sonnet.
In writing long, and reading works of warre,That Homer wrote and Virgils verse did show:
My muse me led in ouerweening farre,
When to their Stiles my pen presumde to goe.
Ouid himselfe durst not haue vaunted so,
Nor Petrarke graue with Homer would compare:
Dawnt durst not think his sence so hye did flow,
As Uirgils works that yet much honord are.
Thus each man sawe his iudgement hye or low,
And would not striue or seeke to make a iarre:
Or wrastle where they haue an ouerthrow.
So I that finde the weakenes of my bow,
Will shoot no shaft beyond my length I troe:
For reason learnes and wisdome makes me know.
Whose strength is best and who doth make or marre:
A little Lamp may not compare with Starre.
A feeble head where no great gifts doo grow:
Yeelds vnto skill, whose knowledge makes smal shew.
Then gentle world I sweetly thee beseech:
Call Spenser now the spirit of learned speech.
Churchyards good will.
1
THE EARLE OF MVRTONS Tragedie,
once Regent of Scotland, and alwaies of great birth, great wisedome, great wealth, and verie great power and credite: yet Fortune enuying his estate and noblenes, brought him to lose his head on a Skaffold in Edenbrough the second of Iune. 1581.
Make
place for plaints, giue rowme for plagued men,
Step backe proud mindes, that praise your selues too much,
Let me appeale, to some true writers pen:
That doth the life, and death of Princes touch.
For my mishap, and fatall fall is such,
That gazing world, which heares my woefull end,
Shall maruaile much, to see such matter pend.
Step backe proud mindes, that praise your selues too much,
Let me appeale, to some true writers pen:
That doth the life, and death of Princes touch.
For my mishap, and fatall fall is such,
That gazing world, which heares my woefull end,
Shall maruaile much, to see such matter pend.
The restles race, that mortall men doe runne,
Seemes smooth to sight, yet full of scratting breers:
Here is no rest, nor surety vnder Sunne.
Sowre is the taste, of flowers that sweete appeares,
Our gentle ioyes, are in our tender yeares,
For as the Childe, to wit and reason growes,
So iudgement comes, and seedes of sorrow sowes.
Seemes smooth to sight, yet full of scratting breers:
Here is no rest, nor surety vnder Sunne.
Sowre is the taste, of flowers that sweete appeares,
Our gentle ioyes, are in our tender yeares,
For as the Childe, to wit and reason growes,
So iudgement comes, and seedes of sorrow sowes.
Our wanton time, doth steale away with sport,
But when that care, hath crept in curious braines:
Long griefe beginnes, and pleasure is but short,
For heart and head, is vext with fancies vaine,
Then hord brings hate, and gold breeds greedy gaine.
Desire of which, with pompe and glory great,
So boiles in brest, it makes mans browes to sweat.
But when that care, hath crept in curious braines:
Long griefe beginnes, and pleasure is but short,
For heart and head, is vext with fancies vaine,
Then hord brings hate, and gold breeds greedy gaine.
2
So boiles in brest, it makes mans browes to sweat.
Ambitions minde, the busie bellowes blowes,
The quenchles coales, of Rule that burneth still,
And ore the banks, the flouds of folly flowes:
And priuate wealth, so blindes a worldlings will:
That wicked wit, doth banish reasons skill,
Climes vp aloft, cries fame and rare renowne,
Till heauy stone, from top comes tottering downe.
The quenchles coales, of Rule that burneth still,
And ore the banks, the flouds of folly flowes:
And priuate wealth, so blindes a worldlings will:
That wicked wit, doth banish reasons skill,
Climes vp aloft, cries fame and rare renowne,
Till heauy stone, from top comes tottering downe.
The mounting heart, that daily doth aspire,
With wilfull wings, of pride to cloudes would flie:
And though he feeles, his feathers singd with fire:
He will not stoupe, he holdes his head so hie,
To beare asway, and alwaies casts his eie,
(With eager lookes) on honors stately throne:
He likes no mate, but all would weld alone.
With wilfull wings, of pride to cloudes would flie:
And though he feeles, his feathers singd with fire:
He will not stoupe, he holdes his head so hie,
To beare asway, and alwaies casts his eie,
(With eager lookes) on honors stately throne:
He likes no mate, but all would weld alone.
The simple sort, that sees soore Fawcon rise,
Disdains to death, the bird that flies too farre:
Then as on owle, flocks, crowes and chatring pies,
So at great dogs, the little tikes doe snarre.
Tweene small and great, when spite ones moues the warre,
There is no rest, for rage runnes all on head,
Hate kindleth fire, and loue growes cold as lead.
Disdains to death, the bird that flies too farre:
Then as on owle, flocks, crowes and chatring pies,
So at great dogs, the little tikes doe snarre.
Tweene small and great, when spite ones moues the warre,
There is no rest, for rage runnes all on head,
Hate kindleth fire, and loue growes cold as lead.
A greater strife, is when two tides doe meete,
Both of one force, like mighty strugling streames,
I meane when men, doe striue of equall sprite:
The robe is ript, or rented through the seames:
Great troubles grow, in sundry ciuill Realmes,
For whilst the one, in chiefest rowme is plaste.
The other comes, and hales him downe in hast.
Both of one force, like mighty strugling streames,
I meane when men, doe striue of equall sprite:
The robe is ript, or rented through the seames:
Great troubles grow, in sundry ciuill Realmes,
For whilst the one, in chiefest rowme is plaste.
The other comes, and hales him downe in hast.
3
There is no meane, where matches meete at shocke,
The strong shewes strength, the stout stands wrangling still,
About the ball, the finest fellowes flocke,
They winne the goale, that hath the greatest skill.
The force of floud, turns round the Water-mill,
So where two men, doe wrastle for a fall,
Most might preuailes, the weake is turnde to wall.
The strong shewes strength, the stout stands wrangling still,
About the ball, the finest fellowes flocke,
They winne the goale, that hath the greatest skill.
The force of floud, turns round the Water-mill,
So where two men, doe wrastle for a fall,
Most might preuailes, the weake is turnde to wall.
But why do I, finde fault with greatest band,
My traine was such, as I a King had beene:
In Court and Towne, Earle Murton was so mand.
As euery day, I had a world to winne,
That was the frette, that did the warre beginne.
For those that sawe, me waited on so well,
Did skorne the same, and so like toades they swell
My traine was such, as I a King had beene:
In Court and Towne, Earle Murton was so mand.
As euery day, I had a world to winne,
That was the frette, that did the warre beginne.
For those that sawe, me waited on so well,
Did skorne the same, and so like toades they swell
At my renowne, and loe a greater thing,
By chaunce befell, for I had secret foes:
(That daily sought) my fall about the King.
And as on steps, to stately stage I rose,
So my decay, in Court and countrey growes.
For priuy hate, and malice matchth with might,
Tooke out the oyle, that gaue my lampe the light.
By chaunce befell, for I had secret foes:
(That daily sought) my fall about the King.
And as on steps, to stately stage I rose,
So my decay, in Court and countrey growes.
For priuy hate, and malice matchth with might,
Tooke out the oyle, that gaue my lampe the light.
Yet through great helpe, and friends as world may weene,
Whose wisdoms was, wel known both graue & sage:
I regent was, when many a broile was greene:
And set abroach, in Court by reuels rage,
I ruled all, whilst King was vnder age,
And where I saw, the people make offence,
I scowrgd them sore, which kept them quiet sence.
Whose wisdoms was, wel known both graue & sage:
I regent was, when many a broile was greene:
And set abroach, in Court by reuels rage,
I ruled all, whilst King was vnder age,
And where I saw, the people make offence,
I scowrgd them sore, which kept them quiet sence.
Some did I hang, and trust them vp on hye,
That slaughters made, or murders did committe:
Some were redeemde, that did for fauour crie,
And strongest heads, I helde in hard with bitte.
With equall eares, I would in iudgement sit.
Yea bent my braine, to beate out right and wrong,
And conscience bad, deferre not iustice long.
That slaughters made, or murders did committe:
Some were redeemde, that did for fauour crie,
4
With equall eares, I would in iudgement sit.
Yea bent my braine, to beate out right and wrong,
And conscience bad, deferre not iustice long.
The rich by this, were sory to offend,
The poore did dread, to hang that faulty were,
And yet oft times, when faulters did amend,
I hangd but one, to bring the rest in feare.
To suters all, I gaue a gracious eare,
By gentle waies, and wisdomes modest meane,
From filthy facts, I cleansed Countrey cleane.
The poore did dread, to hang that faulty were,
And yet oft times, when faulters did amend,
I hangd but one, to bring the rest in feare.
To suters all, I gaue a gracious eare,
By gentle waies, and wisdomes modest meane,
From filthy facts, I cleansed Countrey cleane.
By order good, I made them feare the law,
I pincht the purse, and pawsde in sheading blood,
I punisht sore, where great abuse I saw,
Straight rules I sette, to learne rude people good.
By which strong staies, my state in surety stood.
So wealth came in, with goodly gold and geare,
That paide for paines, and did the charges beare.
I pincht the purse, and pawsde in sheading blood,
I punisht sore, where great abuse I saw,
Straight rules I sette, to learne rude people good.
By which strong staies, my state in surety stood.
So wealth came in, with goodly gold and geare,
That paide for paines, and did the charges beare.
Yea sure more wealth, and riches I possest,
Then twenty Lords, of Scotland any way:
I might compare (for treasure) with the best.
We call it Poess, in our plaine Scottish lay,
I had the bags, of Aungell nobles gay.
I had the chests, fild vp vnto the brim,
With sondry stamps, of coine and treasure trim.
Then twenty Lords, of Scotland any way:
I might compare (for treasure) with the best.
We call it Poess, in our plaine Scottish lay,
I had the bags, of Aungell nobles gay.
I had the chests, fild vp vnto the brim,
With sondry stamps, of coine and treasure trim.
My houses stood, in gladsom soiles and seats,
Stuft with rich things, and Arras clothes inow:
My table spread, with deare and dainty meates.
My ward robe storde, with change of garments throw,
My corne in stacks, my hay in many a mowe,
My stable great, of gallant goldings good.
And I like Prince, amidst these pleasures stoode.
Stuft with rich things, and Arras clothes inow:
My table spread, with deare and dainty meates.
My ward robe storde, with change of garments throw,
My corne in stacks, my hay in many a mowe,
My stable great, of gallant goldings good.
5
What I would wish, I had with glorie great,
Each knee did bow, and make their bodies bend:
Eache eye stood fixt, to gase on honors seat,
Eache friendlie face, a louing looke would send.
To stately throne, and I againe would lend
A Lordlie grace, to keepe the worlds good will,
Whereby encreast, my fame and honor still.
Each knee did bow, and make their bodies bend:
Eache eye stood fixt, to gase on honors seat,
Eache friendlie face, a louing looke would send.
To stately throne, and I againe would lend
A Lordlie grace, to keepe the worlds good will,
Whereby encreast, my fame and honor still.
I buylt me bowers, sometime to banquet in,
Made plotts for walkes, and gardens of delight:
Sought sweete conceits, (not sowsing soule in sinne)
With glutted gorge, at pleasures baite to bite.
But pastime tooke, to put off worlds despite.
My streamers stoode, in topp of barke so braue,
That flaggs of ioy, with each good wind wold waue.
Made plotts for walkes, and gardens of delight:
Sought sweete conceits, (not sowsing soule in sinne)
With glutted gorge, at pleasures baite to bite.
But pastime tooke, to put off worlds despite.
My streamers stoode, in topp of barke so braue,
That flaggs of ioy, with each good wind wold waue.
For wordly pompe, and worship waites as heele,
Where rule and power, sets out gay glittring showes,
Who folowes not, the swinge of fortunes wheele,
What fish forsakes, the floode that daily flowes.
Both great and small, with course of water goes.
Where sunne doth shine, both beast & birdes repaire,
And what flies not, to pleasaunt weather faire.
Where rule and power, sets out gay glittring showes,
Who folowes not, the swinge of fortunes wheele,
What fish forsakes, the floode that daily flowes.
Both great and small, with course of water goes.
Where sunne doth shine, both beast & birdes repaire,
And what flies not, to pleasaunt weather faire.
But well away, when we haue all we wish,
A house, a home, be dect with gallaunt grace:
A golden net, beguiles a carlesse fish.
Wee haue no holde, of fortunes flittering face.
For when wee doe, worldes flattring giftes embrace,
Wee groope and gape, for more vaine goodes so fast:
That gracelesse hap, sweepes all away at last.
A house, a home, be dect with gallaunt grace:
A golden net, beguiles a carlesse fish.
Wee haue no holde, of fortunes flittering face.
For when wee doe, worldes flattring giftes embrace,
Wee groope and gape, for more vaine goodes so fast:
That gracelesse hap, sweepes all away at last.
Our greedy mind, gaines gold and tyens good name,
Winnes wealth yet workes, a wicked web of woe:
Breedes deepe disdaine, and bringes a man in blame,
Breakes bandes of loue, makes friend become a foe.
Shotes spitefull shaftes, from malice sturdie bowe,
Strikes dead good name, & reares vp slaunders brute,
Sowes seedes of vice, and brings foorth rotten fruite.
6
Breedes deepe disdaine, and bringes a man in blame,
Breakes bandes of loue, makes friend become a foe.
Shotes spitefull shaftes, from malice sturdie bowe,
Strikes dead good name, & reares vp slaunders brute,
Sowes seedes of vice, and brings foorth rotten fruite.
All these [illeg.], doth follow greedie minde,
But loe my skill, and sight in publicke state:
For soaking soores, a soueraigne salue could finde,
For where I fearde, sharpe warres & foule debate.
To cut off strife, great friendes at hand I gat,
And by my wit, to keepe the King in right,
At my commaund, I freelie brought much might.
But loe my skill, and sight in publicke state:
For soaking soores, a soueraigne salue could finde,
For where I fearde, sharpe warres & foule debate.
To cut off strife, great friendes at hand I gat,
And by my wit, to keepe the King in right,
At my commaund, I freelie brought much might.
Which strake the stroke, and stoutly rulde the roste,
Spent many dayes, in broyles and making peace:
Bestowde great charge, and carde not for no coste,
So that they could our common quarrels seace.
And euer as, I sawe our brawles encreace,
I helpt the harmes, by worthy wisdomes arte,
So planted peace, & rule in euery part.
Spent many dayes, in broyles and making peace:
Bestowde great charge, and carde not for no coste,
So that they could our common quarrels seace.
And euer as, I sawe our brawles encreace,
I helpt the harmes, by worthy wisdomes arte,
So planted peace, & rule in euery part.
For euery yeare, some brawle was set abroche,
Some treason wrought, some trecherie tane in hand:
Which without stay, would sounde to my reproche,
Such falshood raignde, and raged in the land.
In factions still, did runne a bloodie bande,
About the Realme, as wilde as wolues for praye,
But by my friendes, I set these thinges in staye.
Some treason wrought, some trecherie tane in hand:
Which without stay, would sounde to my reproche,
Such falshood raignde, and raged in the land.
In factions still, did runne a bloodie bande,
About the Realme, as wilde as wolues for praye,
But by my friendes, I set these thinges in staye.
In greatest stormes, I stoutly stood to sterne,
And turnd about, the shippe to winne the winde:
And what defects, and faultes I did discerne,
I readie was, a quicke redresse to finde.
And no man durst, restraine the Regents minde,
For were it good, or bad I would haue done,
Unto that side, would most of people runne.
And turnd about, the shippe to winne the winde:
And what defects, and faultes I did discerne,
I readie was, a quicke redresse to finde.
7
For were it good, or bad I would haue done,
Unto that side, would most of people runne.
Yet murmors rose, among the mighty flocke,
Whose hidden hate, huggd close in cankred brest:
To vndermine, my strong and statelie rocke,
That stoode on propps, and did on pillers rest.
For longer sure, in Court I could not rest,
Then King might come, to perfect age and yeares,
As thinges befell, and by my fall appeares.
Whose hidden hate, huggd close in cankred brest:
To vndermine, my strong and statelie rocke,
That stoode on propps, and did on pillers rest.
For longer sure, in Court I could not rest,
Then King might come, to perfect age and yeares,
As thinges befell, and by my fall appeares.
The secret swarmes, of slie and subtill snakes,
That lurkes in grasse, and vnder fayrest flowers:
The flattering cloudes, that oft faire weather makes,
Great showers of raine, vppon the people powers.
The smiling face, that when it list it lowers.
Betraies the eyes, of them that well beleeues,
When scorners flier, and laugheth in their sleeues.
That lurkes in grasse, and vnder fayrest flowers:
The flattering cloudes, that oft faire weather makes,
Great showers of raine, vppon the people powers.
The smiling face, that when it list it lowers.
Betraies the eyes, of them that well beleeues,
When scorners flier, and laugheth in their sleeues.
My hedge stood stackte, with such weake sticks of woode,
That manie a gappe, was made into my grownde:
I trusted much, to freindship, birth, and blood,
But some of those, in fine were faythlesse founde.
Most spake mee faire, but least of them were sounde.
Some sought my ruyne, that waighted hard at heeles.
For time so shapt, the world went all on wheeles.
That manie a gappe, was made into my grownde:
I trusted much, to freindship, birth, and blood,
But some of those, in fine were faythlesse founde.
Most spake mee faire, but least of them were sounde.
Some sought my ruyne, that waighted hard at heeles.
For time so shapt, the world went all on wheeles.
What is enuid, but rule and high estate.
The seruant seekes, oft times his maysters fall:
The subiect beares, to lawe a priuie hate,
The stubborne child, is [illeg.] at fathers call.
The froward wiues, findes fault with husbands all.
The scholler hates, to heare his follie tolde,
And each degree, abhors to be controlde.
The seruant seekes, oft times his maysters fall:
The subiect beares, to lawe a priuie hate,
The stubborne child, is [illeg.] at fathers call.
The froward wiues, findes fault with husbands all.
The scholler hates, to heare his follie tolde,
And each degree, abhors to be controlde.
8
Rule wants no foes, the horse hee hates the bitt.
The dogge disdaines, the leashe that holdes him in:
The hauke desires, not long on pearch to sit,
Rule is despisde, Rule doth no fauour winne.
The man that hath, in courtly honor beene.
Can tell how oft, he was with flattry fed,
And some there are, with blinde affection led.
The dogge disdaines, the leashe that holdes him in:
The hauke desires, not long on pearch to sit,
Rule is despisde, Rule doth no fauour winne.
The man that hath, in courtly honor beene.
Can tell how oft, he was with flattry fed,
And some there are, with blinde affection led.
Whose humor weake, the wilie worldlings fede,
They followe fast, and fawne like whelpes a while:
Till great mens meanes, hath serued their turne in deede,
Then gallants goe, awaye and giue a smile.
Thus waiters on, doe nought but friends beguile.
And slipper lads, as false and fine as those,
For no offence, become most mortall foes.
They followe fast, and fawne like whelpes a while:
Till great mens meanes, hath serued their turne in deede,
Then gallants goe, awaye and giue a smile.
Thus waiters on, doe nought but friends beguile.
And slipper lads, as false and fine as those,
For no offence, become most mortall foes.
With curtsie great, and kneeling on the knee,
The harmlesse hartes, of noble states are trapte:
They looke so high, they can no tromperie see,
Untill the flye, in spiders webbe be lapt.
And when by sleight, the simple is mishapt.
The wandring world but maruels at the case,
And from the weake, the strongest turnes the face.
The harmlesse hartes, of noble states are trapte:
They looke so high, they can no tromperie see,
Untill the flye, in spiders webbe be lapt.
And when by sleight, the simple is mishapt.
The wandring world but maruels at the case,
And from the weake, the strongest turnes the face.
Who had moe freindes, or yet more wealth than I,
Who founde lesse helpe, O fie on friendships trust:
My stocke and race, did reach to starrie skie,
Yet world trode downe, mine honor in the dust.
And I was left, alone thinke what I lust.
Weepe, sigh or sob, when Fortune gaue checkmate,
Ferme friends were fledd, and I in wofull state.
Who founde lesse helpe, O fie on friendships trust:
My stocke and race, did reach to starrie skie,
Yet world trode downe, mine honor in the dust.
And I was left, alone thinke what I lust.
Weepe, sigh or sob, when Fortune gaue checkmate,
Ferme friends were fledd, and I in wofull state.
Yet wisdomes grace, helde vp my noble minde.
I scornde to thinke, when sorest tempests blewe:
In face and cheere, my courage men might finde,
I counted all, and then the worst I knew,
It was but death, (a paiment that is due:)
To yeild to day, or else when date drew neere.
To paie the shot, and make the reckning cleere.
I scornde to thinke, when sorest tempests blewe:
In face and cheere, my courage men might finde,
9
It was but death, (a paiment that is due:)
To yeild to day, or else when date drew neere.
To paie the shot, and make the reckning cleere.
What needs more talke, amid my cheefest ioyes,
A draught was drawne, to driue me out of grace:
The newes whereof, did fill my head with toyes,
But my stout hart, would giue no practise place.
I stifly stoode, in Court with manly face.
And thought to thrust, them out that stroue with mee.
And so in spigt, of world I would goe free.
A draught was drawne, to driue me out of grace:
The newes whereof, did fill my head with toyes,
But my stout hart, would giue no practise place.
I stifly stoode, in Court with manly face.
And thought to thrust, them out that stroue with mee.
And so in spigt, of world I would goe free.
Great banding then, began in Borough towne,
And to the view, I had the strongest side:
For on my part, were men of great renowne.
Yea, as the fish, doth follow greatest tide:
So people swarmd, and crucifige cryed.
On Mortons foes, for dayly eurye houre:
In Princes Court, with pompe increast my power.
And to the view, I had the strongest side:
For on my part, were men of great renowne.
Yea, as the fish, doth follow greatest tide:
So people swarmd, and crucifige cryed.
On Mortons foes, for dayly eurye houre:
In Princes Court, with pompe increast my power.
But when wee met, that seuerall waies did draw,
Sweete words did walke, bespyest with fained cheere:
In dulcet shell, a kernell sowre, I sawe,
That cunning crafte, by cloude conuayd full cleere.
Our powdred speach, most fresh, would still appeere.
Till bitter taste, bewrayd our meanings all:
Then honie combe, in proofe became but gall.
Sweete words did walke, bespyest with fained cheere:
In dulcet shell, a kernell sowre, I sawe,
That cunning crafte, by cloude conuayd full cleere.
Our powdred speach, most fresh, would still appeere.
Till bitter taste, bewrayd our meanings all:
Then honie combe, in proofe became but gall.
So angrie bees, burst forth from quiet hiue,
And offred stinge, to those that neerest stood:
Then fearefull folke, too feeble were to striue,
They floke so fast, that daily sought my bloode.
Yet to the worlde, I made my quarell good,
And craude no more, but iustice in my cause:
And so to shifte, by course of common lawes.
And offred stinge, to those that neerest stood:
Then fearefull folke, too feeble were to striue,
They floke so fast, that daily sought my bloode.
Yet to the worlde, I made my quarell good,
And craude no more, but iustice in my cause:
10
In open Court, I was accused streight,
And straightlie chargde, to keepe my chamber still:
Where if I had, but vsed anie sleight,
I might haue scapte, awaie and had my will.
But destnie did, bewitch both wit and skill.
And robd mee so of spirite and feeling sence:
That I was meeke, and neuer made defence.
And straightlie chargde, to keepe my chamber still:
Where if I had, but vsed anie sleight,
I might haue scapte, awaie and had my will.
But destnie did, bewitch both wit and skill.
And robd mee so of spirite and feeling sence:
That I was meeke, and neuer made defence.
But what I thought, and what I hopte for both,
Is knowne to God, and some that liueth yet:
In deede my feare, was small (I tell you trothe,)
For manie things, in compasse of my wit,
Did cleare mee cleane, and so though I should sit.
In prison faste, a time till thinges were tryed:
In duraunce long, I hopte I should not bide.
Is knowne to God, and some that liueth yet:
In deede my feare, was small (I tell you trothe,)
For manie things, in compasse of my wit,
Did cleare mee cleane, and so though I should sit.
In prison faste, a time till thinges were tryed:
In duraunce long, I hopte I should not bide.
But loe in haste, I was from thence remoude,
And sent vnto, the Castle there to staie:
And then perchaunce, I was but finely proude,
To see for feare, if I would flie awaie.
For mine owne folkes, had there the whole conuaie.
(Of bodie through, the streetes) such grace I gote,
But woe is me, for then did th'old man doate.
And sent vnto, the Castle there to staie:
And then perchaunce, I was but finely proude,
To see for feare, if I would flie awaie.
For mine owne folkes, had there the whole conuaie.
(Of bodie through, the streetes) such grace I gote,
But woe is me, for then did th'old man doate.
Had I but sayde, I would not be in pounde,
(I would bee franke, and free from daungers doubt:
I might haue turnde, the worlde in Scotland rounde,
Like tennis ball, and thrust myne enemies out.
But who can bring a sternlesse barke aboute.
My wits were gone, that guided all before,
My shipp on ground, and I was set on shore.
(I would bee franke, and free from daungers doubt:
I might haue turnde, the worlde in Scotland rounde,
Like tennis ball, and thrust myne enemies out.
But who can bring a sternlesse barke aboute.
My wits were gone, that guided all before,
My shipp on ground, and I was set on shore.
Loe, what God doth, to make his glorie knowne,
Loe, how mans life, is cut off like a bough:
Loe, lookers on, how sone is man oerthrowne,
Loe, where became, my worldly wisdome nowe.
Loe heere a glasse, that shewes your faces throughe.
You greatest Peeres, and Lords of peereles prayse,
Your pride is past, if God abridge your daies.
11
Loe, lookers on, how sone is man oerthrowne,
Loe, where became, my worldly wisdome nowe.
Loe heere a glasse, that shewes your faces throughe.
You greatest Peeres, and Lords of peereles prayse,
Your pride is past, if God abridge your daies.
No sooner I, beleeude I was so well,
But was conuayde, vnto Don Bartyn than:
So all my friends, (that did in Scotlande dwell,
Made sure a shew, to raise vp manie a man
The King straight waies, before these broyles began,
Fiue ensignes chose, to keepe the world in awe:
For sure defence, of him and of his lawe.
But was conuayde, vnto Don Bartyn than:
So all my friends, (that did in Scotlande dwell,
Made sure a shew, to raise vp manie a man
The King straight waies, before these broyles began,
Fiue ensignes chose, to keepe the world in awe:
For sure defence, of him and of his lawe.
Those bandes held backe, some forward busines strange,
Yet in good faith, my friendes were twise as strong:
The force of whom, made worlde to feare a change,
But on and of, alas they dalied longe.
And all the while, I thought they did me wronge.
Yet vaine it was, in armes to stande and striue:
For they had not, that waye found me aliue.
Yet in good faith, my friendes were twise as strong:
The force of whom, made worlde to feare a change,
But on and of, alas they dalied longe.
And all the while, I thought they did me wronge.
Yet vaine it was, in armes to stande and striue:
For they had not, that waye found me aliue.
Long was the talke, of manie a farlye thoe,
Long did I looke, for that which did not come:
But all those blasts, in fine did ouer bloe,
I listned long, to heere the sound of drumme.
Yet though I had, the great good will of some.
God would not thoell, for one mans sake alone:
That broyles should cause, a million make their mone.
Long did I looke, for that which did not come:
But all those blasts, in fine did ouer bloe,
I listned long, to heere the sound of drumme.
Yet though I had, the great good will of some.
God would not thoell, for one mans sake alone:
That broyles should cause, a million make their mone.
When birde is limde, farewell faire feathers all,
The fish in net, maie bidde the sea adiew:
When world beholds, à man is neere his fall,
It leaues him there, and follows fancies newe.
When all is saide, the olde prouerbe is true.
Who cannot swimme, must sincke there is no boote:
Who hath no horse, of force must goe on foote.
The fish in net, maie bidde the sea adiew:
When world beholds, à man is neere his fall,
It leaues him there, and follows fancies newe.
12
Who cannot swimme, must sincke there is no boote:
Who hath no horse, of force must goe on foote.
Thus tyed to clogge, and pende in prison fast,
My hope decaide, my hart did heauie waxe:
So souldiers came, and brought me foorth at last,
The butcher then, began to whet his axe,
All was on flame, the fire was flowne in flaxe.
There was no choise, I must asize abide:
Prooue foule or cleane, and by my Peeres be tried.
My hope decaide, my hart did heauie waxe:
So souldiers came, and brought me foorth at last,
The butcher then, began to whet his axe,
All was on flame, the fire was flowne in flaxe.
There was no choise, I must asize abide:
Prooue foule or cleane, and by my Peeres be tried.
To Edenbrough, the captiue man was brought,
Along the fieldes, where flockes of people were:
The sight of whom, did trouble much my thought,
But when in deede, I was ariued there,
Both streetes and stalles and windows euery where,
Were stuffed full, to giue on me the gaze:
But that might not, my manly mind amaze.
Along the fieldes, where flockes of people were:
The sight of whom, did trouble much my thought,
But when in deede, I was ariued there,
Both streetes and stalles and windows euery where,
Were stuffed full, to giue on me the gaze:
But that might not, my manly mind amaze.
Yet neither one, nor other, small nor great,
Did me salute, So turnde the moodes of men:
That colde deuice, (nay rather raging heate)
Could not appall; my princely courage then.
For I did looke, as I did nothing ken.
Yet knew the whole, that some in secret bore:
So passed through, the thronge, what would ye more.
Did me salute, So turnde the moodes of men:
That colde deuice, (nay rather raging heate)
Could not appall; my princely courage then.
For I did looke, as I did nothing ken.
Yet knew the whole, that some in secret bore:
So passed through, the thronge, what would ye more.
A russet cloake, a garment rude and bare,
For such a state: make what of mee they would:
With foule felt hat, and robes but base I ware,
That people might, my great disgrace beholde.
Alas poore lambe, thy life was bought and soulde.
No force of weedes, to couer clott of claye,
Morton was dead, full longe before that daie.
For such a state: make what of mee they would:
With foule felt hat, and robes but base I ware,
That people might, my great disgrace beholde.
Alas poore lambe, thy life was bought and soulde.
No force of weedes, to couer clott of claye,
Morton was dead, full longe before that daie.
13
Now Lawyers flockte, and swarmde in ilke a place,
Now Lords repaird, and Lardes came daily in:
Now learned heads, did long debate my case,
Now did (in deed) my sorrowes all beginne,
Now was the time, that I must lose or winne,
For I appeard, before the iudgement seate,
And there maintainde, my right with reasons great.
Now Lords repaird, and Lardes came daily in:
Now learned heads, did long debate my case,
Now did (in deed) my sorrowes all beginne,
Now was the time, that I must lose or winne,
For I appeard, before the iudgement seate,
And there maintainde, my right with reasons great.
Made good defence, to many matters sure,
Spake boldly still, and did but iustice craue:
My pleading there, did foure long houres endure,
And Lawyers then, to me good leasure gaue,
But to what end, did I long pleading haue,
I was condemnd, the world would haue it so,
A thing there was, but that the Lord doth know.
Spake boldly still, and did but iustice craue:
My pleading there, did foure long houres endure,
And Lawyers then, to me good leasure gaue,
But to what end, did I long pleading haue,
I was condemnd, the world would haue it so,
A thing there was, but that the Lord doth know.
And I that heere, confesse my former gylt,
A murther than, was laide vnto my charge:
Which I concealde, yet saw a Kings bloud spilt.
A fowle offence, for which there is no targe:
Nor could not claime, therefore to goe at large:
But byed the sence, and censure of the lawes,
For fowle (God wot) and filthy was my cause.
A murther than, was laide vnto my charge:
Which I concealde, yet saw a Kings bloud spilt.
A fowle offence, for which there is no targe:
Nor could not claime, therefore to goe at large:
But byed the sence, and censure of the lawes,
For fowle (God wot) and filthy was my cause.
The iudgement was, a heauy thing to heere,
But what they did, I could not call againe:
The sentence past, too late my selfe to cleere,
Once iudgd to die, condemnd I must remaine.
As silly sheepe, in shopp must needes be slaine.
Then to the pot, or pit our flesh must passe,
All flesh is dust, vaine ashes earth and grasse.
But what they did, I could not call againe:
The sentence past, too late my selfe to cleere,
Once iudgd to die, condemnd I must remaine.
As silly sheepe, in shopp must needes be slaine.
Then to the pot, or pit our flesh must passe,
All flesh is dust, vaine ashes earth and grasse.
Then thought I on, some friend that absent was,
And spoke some words, but asks not what they were,
So from the bench, to prison did I pas,
And for to die, did make me ready there,
The Preachers came, and shed full many a teare,
To bring my soule, in perfect patience than,
And make me die, a faithfull christian man.
And spoke some words, but asks not what they were,
So from the bench, to prison did I pas,
14
The Preachers came, and shed full many a teare,
To bring my soule, in perfect patience than,
And make me die, a faithfull christian man.
In secrete sort, the Preachers there I told,
Great things of waight, that in my conscience lay:
And so confest, what right and reason would,
But thereon pawsde, I would no further say,
Aske what they pleasde, I did but troth bewray.
Whereat I knockt, my troubled trembling brest,
And so desirde, the Preachers let me rest.
Great things of waight, that in my conscience lay:
And so confest, what right and reason would,
But thereon pawsde, I would no further say,
Aske what they pleasde, I did but troth bewray.
Whereat I knockt, my troubled trembling brest,
And so desirde, the Preachers let me rest.
O brethren mine, your doctrine likes me well,
(Qd. I) good men, bestow some praiers now.
In your beliefe, looke that you daily dwell,
As you beganne, so still continue through,
The bloud of Christ, hath washt my blotted brow,
As white as snow, (I haue no doubt nor feare)
Shall be my sinnes, that red as scarlet were.
(Qd. I) good men, bestow some praiers now.
In your beliefe, looke that you daily dwell,
As you beganne, so still continue through,
The bloud of Christ, hath washt my blotted brow,
As white as snow, (I haue no doubt nor feare)
Shall be my sinnes, that red as scarlet were.
The Preachers glad, to bring my soule to rest,
Brought Scripture in, and did the text vnfold:
And many a place, and sentence they exprest,
Towardes the death, to make my body bolde,
O my good Lord, you may not now behold,
The pompe (quoth they) and glory that is past,
But you must thinke, on that which aye shall last.
Brought Scripture in, and did the text vnfold:
And many a place, and sentence they exprest,
Towardes the death, to make my body bolde,
O my good Lord, you may not now behold,
The pompe (quoth they) and glory that is past,
But you must thinke, on that which aye shall last.
Both wealth and friends, and worldly wisedome to,
Are banisht quite, and blush to come in place:
When soule goes hence, those things haue nought to doe.
With man that is, then newly borne in grace,
The light of day, hath darkenes still in chase,
The heauenly thoughts, doe hate all earthly things,
And faith to clowdes, doth flie with flittring wings.
Are banisht quite, and blush to come in place:
When soule goes hence, those things haue nought to doe.
With man that is, then newly borne in grace,
The light of day, hath darkenes still in chase,
The heauenly thoughts, doe hate all earthly things,
And faith to clowdes, doth flie with flittring wings.
15
They praide with me, and wipt their weeping eies,
My heauy sprite, stood troubled sore that tide:
And as the sighes, from panting heart did rise,
My groaning Ghost, O Abba father cride.
The sobs flew forth, the teares I could not hide,
As babe doth weepe, when he beholds the rod,
So then I feard, the wrath of my good God.
My heauy sprite, stood troubled sore that tide:
And as the sighes, from panting heart did rise,
My groaning Ghost, O Abba father cride.
The sobs flew forth, the teares I could not hide,
As babe doth weepe, when he beholds the rod,
So then I feard, the wrath of my good God.
Full soone reformde, I was in godly wise,
Gaue ore the world, forgot all earthly thing,
Heaud vp my hands, and heart, vnto the skies.
To God that did, this plague vppon me bring,
And then I sued, and sent vnto the King.
To scape the coard, by losse of life and breath,
For heading was, for me more Nobler death.
Gaue ore the world, forgot all earthly thing,
Heaud vp my hands, and heart, vnto the skies.
To God that did, this plague vppon me bring,
And then I sued, and sent vnto the King.
To scape the coard, by losse of life and breath,
For heading was, for me more Nobler death.
He graunted that, and sad for my mishap,
He let me goe, where God and man assignd,
Now euery fault, lay open in my lap,
Each small offence, came freshly to my minde,
The secret sinnes, that we in conscience finde,
A muster made, and passed for their pay,
Before great God, that doth all things bewray.
He let me goe, where God and man assignd,
Now euery fault, lay open in my lap,
Each small offence, came freshly to my minde,
The secret sinnes, that we in conscience finde,
A muster made, and passed for their pay,
Before great God, that doth all things bewray.
The wrong I did, to simple people plaine,
Bad heart orethinke, the fury of mine ire,
The greedy thirst, of glory rule and gaine,
Made soule afeard, of hote infernall fire,
My selfe I blamde, for fleshly fond desire.
But falling thus, full prostrate on my face,
From heauens hie, I felt a sparke of grace.
Bad heart orethinke, the fury of mine ire,
The greedy thirst, of glory rule and gaine,
Made soule afeard, of hote infernall fire,
My selfe I blamde, for fleshly fond desire.
But falling thus, full prostrate on my face,
From heauens hie, I felt a sparke of grace.
Which warmd my sprites, that waxed faint and cold,
The last conflict, that in this life we haue,
Then comfort came, and made weake body bold,
Care not for death, for life mounts vp from graue.
(Qd. knowledge then) when Christ the soule shall saue.
With that I flong, behinde all fearefull dread,
So cald for booke, and many a Psalme did reade.
The last conflict, that in this life we haue,
Then comfort came, and made weake body bold,
16
(Qd. knowledge then) when Christ the soule shall saue.
With that I flong, behinde all fearefull dread,
So cald for booke, and many a Psalme did reade.
In lesse then halfe, the time that I haue spoke,
Me thought I talkt, with God whose face did shine,
Who from a cloude, discende as thinne as smoke,
And entred in, my breast by power diuine,
O mortall man (said he) come thou art mine,
Be strong and stout, to fight the battell throw,
For my right hand, is here to helpe thee now.
Me thought I talkt, with God whose face did shine,
Who from a cloude, discende as thinne as smoke,
And entred in, my breast by power diuine,
O mortall man (said he) come thou art mine,
Be strong and stout, to fight the battell throw,
For my right hand, is here to helpe thee now.
Blush not to see, the raging worlds despite,
The bloudy axe, nor scaffolde full of bils:
My mercy seat, shall be thy chiefe delihte.
And though on earth, thine enimies haue their wils,
I am the God, that stormes and tempests stils,
In quiet calme, passe gently thou away,
And suffer much, yet doe but little say.
The bloudy axe, nor scaffolde full of bils:
My mercy seat, shall be thy chiefe delihte.
And though on earth, thine enimies haue their wils,
I am the God, that stormes and tempests stils,
In quiet calme, passe gently thou away,
And suffer much, yet doe but little say.
Death is the end, of all that beareth life,
Not one shall scape, this world is but a dreame,
The seeds of sinne, brings forth but flowres of strife,
In painted robes, lies many a rotten seame,
It is but griefe, to guide and rule a Realme:
Great charge and care, a great accompt must make,
And when I frown, the whole round world I shake.
Not one shall scape, this world is but a dreame,
The seeds of sinne, brings forth but flowres of strife,
In painted robes, lies many a rotten seame,
It is but griefe, to guide and rule a Realme:
Great charge and care, a great accompt must make,
And when I frown, the whole round world I shake.
I cause one wight, to take anothers place,
To chop off heads, to kill, to hang and draw:
And when I take, from rulers new my grace,
His head againe, shall yeeld to sword and law.
Men blowes the cole, but I put fire in straw,
And where doth fall, the flame of my great ire,
All things consumes, to cinders in that fire,
To chop off heads, to kill, to hang and draw:
And when I take, from rulers new my grace,
His head againe, shall yeeld to sword and law.
Men blowes the cole, but I put fire in straw,
And where doth fall, the flame of my great ire,
17
Come Murton come, and play thy pageant well,
Thou goest before, perhaps a yeare or twaine:
But after thee, shall passe to heauen or hell,
A number more, that mercy now remaine,
World hath no stay, I tell thee all is vaine:
Both raigne and rule, and regall power most hie,
When dastards dreame, in durt and dust shall lie.
Thou goest before, perhaps a yeare or twaine:
But after thee, shall passe to heauen or hell,
A number more, that mercy now remaine,
World hath no stay, I tell thee all is vaine:
Both raigne and rule, and regall power most hie,
When dastards dreame, in durt and dust shall lie.
My God thus sayd, with that my sprites reuiude,
My wits were armde, my sence redoubled than:
And with my flesh, the holy Ghost he striude.
By Angels force, but not by might of man:
A marulous stirre, in stomacke then beganne,
For to subdue, the carrein corps of care,
And burthend breast, that sinfull body bare.
My wits were armde, my sence redoubled than:
And with my flesh, the holy Ghost he striude.
By Angels force, but not by might of man:
A marulous stirre, in stomacke then beganne,
For to subdue, the carrein corps of care,
And burthend breast, that sinfull body bare.
Now hope in hast, made heauy heart full light,
The feare was fled, that comes by course of law:
Gods promise wrought, (through mercy grace and might,
A noble worke in me, cleare conscience saw.
A fig for death, his force not worth a straw:
(Qd. I) a rush for worlds reproach and shame:
For written is, in booke of life my name.
The feare was fled, that comes by course of law:
Gods promise wrought, (through mercy grace and might,
A noble worke in me, cleare conscience saw.
A fig for death, his force not worth a straw:
(Qd. I) a rush for worlds reproach and shame:
For written is, in booke of life my name.
The Preachers then, began to weepe for ioy,
Your firme beliefe, my Lord shall make you free:
(Qd. they) and sure, your soule is from annoy,
Both in this world, and where sweete Angels be.
And where right soone, you shall Gods glory see:
Not with bare view, but with immortall eies,
As body shall, at latter day arise:
Your firme beliefe, my Lord shall make you free:
(Qd. they) and sure, your soule is from annoy,
Both in this world, and where sweete Angels be.
And where right soone, you shall Gods glory see:
Not with bare view, but with immortall eies,
As body shall, at latter day arise:
Then kneeld I downe, and to the cloudes I looke,
The thought and care, the while of world was past,
And I in God, such ioy and pleasure tooke:
That at my heeles, all earthly pompe I cast,
By this the houre, of death approached fast.
The Gard gaue sign, with halbards bright in hand,
I must prepare, on Skaffold streight to stand.
18
And I in God, such ioy and pleasure tooke:
That at my heeles, all earthly pompe I cast,
By this the houre, of death approached fast.
The Gard gaue sign, with halbards bright in hand,
I must prepare, on Skaffold streight to stand.
The streetes were full, of souldiers armed well,
With shot and match, and all belongs for warre,
I saw in house, I could no longer dwell:
For people said, the day was spent full farre,
Then ope the doore, (qd. I) draw backe the barre,
I will goe hence, to better home I trust:
Here is no hope, I see, that die I must.
With shot and match, and all belongs for warre,
I saw in house, I could no longer dwell:
For people said, the day was spent full farre,
Then ope the doore, (qd. I) draw backe the barre,
I will goe hence, to better home I trust:
Here is no hope, I see, that die I must.
To comfort sence, and strengthen vitall sprete,
I tasted foed, and dranke a draught of wine:
And pawsde a while, as I thought fit and meete,
But sure no dread, or death within mine eine
Was seene, for God by speciall grace deuine,
Held vp my heart, and head as high to shoe,
As when from home, I did a walking goe.
I tasted foed, and dranke a draught of wine:
And pawsde a while, as I thought fit and meete,
But sure no dread, or death within mine eine
Was seene, for God by speciall grace deuine,
Held vp my heart, and head as high to shoe,
As when from home, I did a walking goe.
Milde words I gaue, when bitter speech I hard,
So passed through, them all with manly cheere,
And did no more, this world nor earth regard,
Then though in deede, I neuer had beene here,
But when in sight, the Skaffold did appeare,
My minde was bent, to fight the battle out:
And conquere death, and banish feare and dout.
So passed through, them all with manly cheere,
And did no more, this world nor earth regard,
Then though in deede, I neuer had beene here,
But when in sight, the Skaffold did appeare,
My minde was bent, to fight the battle out:
And conquere death, and banish feare and dout.
So stept I vp, on Skaffold lightly than,
Where sundry came, to aske me many a thing,
I lookte to God, and made small count of man.
Saue that alowd, I saide God blesse the King.
God giue him grace, in peace the state to bring,
And shunne the harmes, and dangers ore his head:
To finde on earth, long life when I am dead.
Where sundry came, to aske me many a thing,
I lookte to God, and made small count of man.
Saue that alowd, I saide God blesse the King.
19
And shunne the harmes, and dangers ore his head:
To finde on earth, long life when I am dead.
Had I serud God, aswell in euery sort,
As I did serue, my king and maister still:
My scope had not, this season beene so short,
Nor world haue had, the power to doe me ill.
But loe, I liude, against my makers will:
That feeles my flesh, that feeles my soule alas,
That fault I feare, where now my soule shall passe.
As I did serue, my king and maister still:
My scope had not, this season beene so short,
Nor world haue had, the power to doe me ill.
But loe, I liude, against my makers will:
That feeles my flesh, that feeles my soule alas,
That fault I feare, where now my soule shall passe.
That, that good Lord, forgiue, whilst breath I haue,
It is the sinne, that to this world I brought:
It buried shall, be with my flesh in graue,
It is a sore, and sickenesse of the thought.
It is most vaine, a wretched thing of nought,
A wicked wound, that death doth heale alone,
Dwels last in flesh, and first was bred in bone.
It is the sinne, that to this world I brought:
It buried shall, be with my flesh in graue,
It is a sore, and sickenesse of the thought.
It is most vaine, a wretched thing of nought,
A wicked wound, that death doth heale alone,
Dwels last in flesh, and first was bred in bone.
Pray you for me, that sets your sinnes by mine,
And such as doe, professe the faith I hold:
Marke who I am, that here by power diuine,
Am forst this daie, my conscience to vnfolde.
Looke neerely both, to your owne Faults vntolde,
And pray as well, for me with humble minde,
As for your selues, that here I leaue behinde.
And such as doe, professe the faith I hold:
Marke who I am, that here by power diuine,
Am forst this daie, my conscience to vnfolde.
Looke neerely both, to your owne Faults vntolde,
And pray as well, for me with humble minde,
As for your selues, that here I leaue behinde.
My matter stands, before the iudge of all,
Men haue condemnd, my body to the tort,
When that great iudge, will for a reckning call,
Both you and I, (shut vp in sentence short,)
Shall soone be known, who gaines the best report,
I here accuse, ne small nor great this day:
My part is plaide, and I must passe my way.
Men haue condemnd, my body to the tort,
When that great iudge, will for a reckning call,
Both you and I, (shut vp in sentence short,)
Shall soone be known, who gaines the best report,
I here accuse, ne small nor great this day:
My part is plaide, and I must passe my way.
20
The faith this howre that all the Realme doth know,
I die in here, and seale it with my blood:
To other faith, beware bend not your bowe:
The rotten string, will breake and doe no good,
Whilst in this land, such trash and tromprie stood,
God was not pleasd, the King not serude aright,
And we did walke, in darkenes stead of light.
I die in here, and seale it with my blood:
To other faith, beware bend not your bowe:
The rotten string, will breake and doe no good,
Whilst in this land, such trash and tromprie stood,
God was not pleasd, the King not serude aright,
And we did walke, in darkenes stead of light.
Good hearers all, my babes and children deere,
I brought you vp, full long in this beliefe:
Your regent ones, now preacheth to you here,
Chaunge not (my barns) religion to your griefe,
Serue first your God, next honor King as chiefe,
This lesson keepe, and so good friends, adiew:
The dead from quicke, so takes his leaue of you.
I brought you vp, full long in this beliefe:
Your regent ones, now preacheth to you here,
Chaunge not (my barns) religion to your griefe,
Serue first your God, next honor King as chiefe,
This lesson keepe, and so good friends, adiew:
The dead from quicke, so takes his leaue of you.
Thus full resolude, temptation to resist,
Great time I stood, and talkte in stoutest shoe,
Of sondry things, as freely as I list:
But waying then, that hence the soule must goe,
And that my necke, must bide the blouddy bloe,
I stretched armes, as hie as I could heaue:
So turnd my backe, and did the audience leaue.
Great time I stood, and talkte in stoutest shoe,
Of sondry things, as freely as I list:
But waying then, that hence the soule must goe,
And that my necke, must bide the blouddy bloe,
I stretched armes, as hie as I could heaue:
So turnd my backe, and did the audience leaue.
The heauenly hope that heart doth long vphold,
Did hale me hence, and bad dispatch in haste
As firme as rocke I stood, say what they would,
For after this, I spake no word in waste,
Then downe I lay, and balefull blocke embraste.
And there receiude, the blow as axe did fall:
That cut me cleane, from cares and cumbers all.
Did hale me hence, and bad dispatch in haste
As firme as rocke I stood, say what they would,
For after this, I spake no word in waste,
Then downe I lay, and balefull blocke embraste.
And there receiude, the blow as axe did fall:
That cut me cleane, from cares and cumbers all.
The gasping head, as in the Lorde I slept,
A vision had, ye may the fame suppose:
I dreamde it saw, how friende, & faurers wept,
In heade that tide, a straunger fancie rose,
The eyes behelde, before the eyes did close,
A writer there, and Churchyard loe he hight:
Whose pen paints out, mens tragedies aright.
A vision had, ye may the fame suppose:
I dreamde it saw, how friende, & faurers wept,
21
The eyes behelde, before the eyes did close,
A writer there, and Churchyard loe he hight:
Whose pen paints out, mens tragedies aright.
In deadly dreame, my tongue callde on that man,
(As headlesse folke, may fumble out a word)
You must beleeue, the tongue a tale beganne,
Of earnest thinges, and not a trifling borde,
Churchyard (quoth he) if now thou canst afforde
Mee one good verse, take heere thy penne in hand:
And send my death, to thine owne natiue lande.
(As headlesse folke, may fumble out a word)
You must beleeue, the tongue a tale beganne,
Of earnest thinges, and not a trifling borde,
Churchyard (quoth he) if now thou canst afforde
Mee one good verse, take heere thy penne in hand:
And send my death, to thine owne natiue lande.
Which in my life, I loude and honourd much.
(A cause there was, let that passe oer with time:)
Thou man (I saie,) that didst Shores wife so touch,
With louing phrase, and friendlie English rime.
When pen & muse, (were in chiefe pride and prime,
Bestow some paines, on him that was thy friende:
Whose life thou knewst, & seist mee make mine ende.
(A cause there was, let that passe oer with time:)
Thou man (I saie,) that didst Shores wife so touch,
With louing phrase, and friendlie English rime.
When pen & muse, (were in chiefe pride and prime,
Bestow some paines, on him that was thy friende:
Whose life thou knewst, & seist mee make mine ende.
These wordes pronounst, the head gan bleed anew,
My bodie laie, along like lumpe of leade:
The limmes stretcht out, & stife as stake they grew,
And vnder cloath of blacke was made my bedd.
On thicke hard boordes, that world might see me dead
There did I lodge, till starrs appearde in skye:
And goring bloode, had glutted gasers eye.
My bodie laie, along like lumpe of leade:
The limmes stretcht out, & stife as stake they grew,
And vnder cloath of blacke was made my bedd.
On thicke hard boordes, that world might see me dead
There did I lodge, till starrs appearde in skye:
And goring bloode, had glutted gasers eye.
Thus Churchyard now, in wandring vp & downe,
(About affaires, perhaps that toucht him nere:)
Saw on Tolbothe, in Edenborough towne,
My sencelesse head, before his face appeare.
Why Morton then, (quoth he) and art thou heere.
That long didst raigne, and rule this Realme of late:
Then ruine and wracke, oerreacheth each estate.
(About affaires, perhaps that toucht him nere:)
Saw on Tolbothe, in Edenborough towne,
My sencelesse head, before his face appeare.
Why Morton then, (quoth he) and art thou heere.
That long didst raigne, and rule this Realme of late:
22
An Emperors life, puft vp with pompe & pride,
Maie not compare, with plaine ploughman (quoth he)
The climing foote, is apt to slippe and slide,
The studious braine, shall selde in suretie bee,
A bitter blast, sone bites the brauest tree.
At honors seate, blinde boltes men dailie shoote:
And wretched hap, riues vp renowne by roote.
Maie not compare, with plaine ploughman (quoth he)
The climing foote, is apt to slippe and slide,
The studious braine, shall selde in suretie bee,
A bitter blast, sone bites the brauest tree.
At honors seate, blinde boltes men dailie shoote:
And wretched hap, riues vp renowne by roote.
No wit nor wealth, preuailes against mischaunce,
Whom fortune hates, the people doe disdaine:
As wisdomes grace, doth worthie witts aduaunce,
So priuie hate, throwes downe hie harts againe.
The whitest clothe, will take the greatest staine.
It is not strange, to see great men to fall,
For too much trust, of worlde deceiues vs all.
Whom fortune hates, the people doe disdaine:
As wisdomes grace, doth worthie witts aduaunce,
So priuie hate, throwes downe hie harts againe.
The whitest clothe, will take the greatest staine.
It is not strange, to see great men to fall,
For too much trust, of worlde deceiues vs all.
Why doe wee wish, to weald a world at will,
What follows pompe, but hazard of good name:
Why would wise men, in pleasure wallow still,
The end of toyle, makes soule and bodie tame.
They take no rest, that runnes still after fame,
Great charge breeds griefe, and brings on care apace:
Great honor rules, and lasteth but a space.
What follows pompe, but hazard of good name:
Why would wise men, in pleasure wallow still,
The end of toyle, makes soule and bodie tame.
They take no rest, that runnes still after fame,
Great charge breeds griefe, and brings on care apace:
Great honor rules, and lasteth but a space.
Who trauells farre, comes wearie home at night,
The mounting Larke, comes down to foulers hand:
Great birdes are borne, about with feathers light,
All great renowne, on tickle propps doth stand,
All wordlie blisse, as builded on the sand.
Which when a puffe, of winde beginnes to bloe:
In peeces small, the painted postes will goe.
The mounting Larke, comes down to foulers hand:
Great birdes are borne, about with feathers light,
All great renowne, on tickle propps doth stand,
All wordlie blisse, as builded on the sand.
Which when a puffe, of winde beginnes to bloe:
In peeces small, the painted postes will goe.
To greatest trees, the birdes doe daily flock,
On highest hils, wee walke to take the ayre:
And sudden stormes, giue greatest oke a shock,
The ground is bare, where many feete repayre,
All people drawe, vnto a goodly faire.
But where most haunte, is founde with iudging eye:
There is least hope, and doth most daunger lye:
23
And sudden stormes, giue greatest oke a shock,
The ground is bare, where many feete repayre,
All people drawe, vnto a goodly faire.
But where most haunte, is founde with iudging eye:
There is least hope, and doth most daunger lye:
The fayre it selfe, where all is bought and solde,
Showes meere deceipt, to him that buies and sells:
The enemies strength, striues still with strongest holde,
Disdaine doth drawe, where greatest honor dwels.
All flies repayre, to flowers of sweetest smells,
Each wicked worme to soundest kernell goes:
Ten thousand weeds, do growe about a rose.
Showes meere deceipt, to him that buies and sells:
The enemies strength, striues still with strongest holde,
Disdaine doth drawe, where greatest honor dwels.
All flies repayre, to flowers of sweetest smells,
Each wicked worme to soundest kernell goes:
Ten thousand weeds, do growe about a rose.
Because the seate, of honor standeth hye,
The baser sort, do bend the browe thereat:
And honor is, a moate in enuies eye,
Who vily thinkes, and speaks he knows not what.
By enuies brute, that bitter biting gnatt.
A blister growes, in soft and smothest skinne:
So skarrs arise, where cleerest shew hath binne.
The baser sort, do bend the browe thereat:
And honor is, a moate in enuies eye,
Who vily thinkes, and speaks he knows not what.
By enuies brute, that bitter biting gnatt.
A blister growes, in soft and smothest skinne:
So skarrs arise, where cleerest shew hath binne.
O malice great, thou monster sent from hell,
The heauens hate, to heare thy naughty name:
If world thee skorn, thou knowst not where to dwell,
O fugitiue, O sonne of open shame.
No wisdomes lore, nor men of noble fame,
Can scape thy scourge, it giues so sore a yarke:
And so thy boltes, are shot at eache good marke.
The heauens hate, to heare thy naughty name:
If world thee skorn, thou knowst not where to dwell,
O fugitiue, O sonne of open shame.
No wisdomes lore, nor men of noble fame,
Can scape thy scourge, it giues so sore a yarke:
And so thy boltes, are shot at eache good marke.
Men may not liue, though great they are of race,
For malice, rage, and enuie now adayes:
Proude practise proules, about in eurie place,
To breede debate, and cut of good mens praise.
Where malice sowes, the seedes of wicked waies.
Both honor quailes, and creadit crackes with all:
Of noblest men, and such as feares no fall.
For malice, rage, and enuie now adayes:
Proude practise proules, about in eurie place,
To breede debate, and cut of good mens praise.
24
Both honor quailes, and creadit crackes with all:
Of noblest men, and such as feares no fall.
At goodlie fruite, that growes on topps of trees,
The people gase, and somtime kudgels flinge:
Disdaine repines, at all good things it sees,
And so like snakes, doth enuie shoote his sting,
The angrie waspes, are still about a king.
Who seekes by swarmes, to hurt true meaning still:
So workes great harmes, to those that thinke no ill.
The people gase, and somtime kudgels flinge:
Disdaine repines, at all good things it sees,
And so like snakes, doth enuie shoote his sting,
The angrie waspes, are still about a king.
Who seekes by swarmes, to hurt true meaning still:
So workes great harmes, to those that thinke no ill.
True honor may, full long in fauour bee,
If rigors wrath, and malice did not meete:
And malice might, lies not in meane degree,
It closely lurkes, in craft and cunning sprete,
First fine deuice, can kisse both handes and feete.
Then draw the knife, that cuts the harmlesse throte:
Thus honor is, by drifts in daunger gote.
If rigors wrath, and malice did not meete:
And malice might, lies not in meane degree,
It closely lurkes, in craft and cunning sprete,
First fine deuice, can kisse both handes and feete.
Then draw the knife, that cuts the harmlesse throte:
Thus honor is, by drifts in daunger gote.
These deadly driftes, drinkes deepest riuers drie,
Sincks greatest grounds, belowe past helpe of man:
Flings flat on floore, the statelye buildings hye,
Shakes downe great harts, (let wit doe what he can.
Fine drift is hee, that mischiefe first beganne.
Against whose force, no reason maie resist:
That awefull worme, on earth doth what it list.
Sincks greatest grounds, belowe past helpe of man:
Flings flat on floore, the statelye buildings hye,
Shakes downe great harts, (let wit doe what he can.
Fine drift is hee, that mischiefe first beganne.
Against whose force, no reason maie resist:
That awefull worme, on earth doth what it list.
Then noble birth, and vertues rare must stowpe,
When daie is come, and destines strikes the stroke:
This cunning world, may make great minds to drowpe,
UUhen we are calde, men needs must draw the yoke.
UUhen life goes out, our breath is but a smoke.
UUhen at the dore, our drerie death doth knocke:
Take key in hand, wee must turne backe the locke.
When daie is come, and destines strikes the stroke:
This cunning world, may make great minds to drowpe,
UUhen we are calde, men needs must draw the yoke.
UUhen life goes out, our breath is but a smoke.
UUhen at the dore, our drerie death doth knocke:
Take key in hand, wee must turne backe the locke.
25
Who would haue thought, Earle Morton should haue fell,
A graue wise man, and gouernde manie a daye:
Rulde all at home, and vsde his wit so well,
In foreine Realmes, hee bare a wonderous swaie,
Of worldes affaires, hee knew the readie waye.
Yet knowledge failde, and cunning knew no boote:
When fortune came and tript him with her foote.
A graue wise man, and gouernde manie a daye:
Rulde all at home, and vsde his wit so well,
In foreine Realmes, hee bare a wonderous swaie,
Of worldes affaires, hee knew the readie waye.
Yet knowledge failde, and cunning knew no boote:
When fortune came and tript him with her foote.
Loe, lookers on, what staie remaines in state.
Loe, how mans blisse, is but a blast of winde:
Borne vnto bale, and subiect to debate,
And makes an ende, as destine hath assignde,
Loe heere as oft, as Morton comes to minde,
Dispise this worlde, and thinke it nothing straunge:
For better place, when we our liues doe chaunge.
Loe, how mans blisse, is but a blast of winde:
Borne vnto bale, and subiect to debate,
And makes an ende, as destine hath assignde,
Loe heere as oft, as Morton comes to minde,
Dispise this worlde, and thinke it nothing straunge:
For better place, when we our liues doe chaunge.
qd. T. C.
FINIS.
SIR SIMON BVRLEIS TRAGEDIE,
who liued in the xi. yeare of Richarde the seconde. Looke Frozard the last part Fol. 108.
Am
I of blood, or yet of birth so base,
O Baldwin now, that thou forgetst my name:
Or doth thy penne, want cunning for that case.
Or is thy skill, or senses fallen lame,
Or dost thou feare, to blase abroade my fame:
O shew some cause, wherefore I sit in shade,
And why is thus, my Tragedie vnmade.
Who thinkes great scorne, in silence still to sleepe,
And on whose fall, a world may waile and weepe.
O Baldwin now, that thou forgetst my name:
Or doth thy penne, want cunning for that case.
Or is thy skill, or senses fallen lame,
Or dost thou feare, to blase abroade my fame:
O shew some cause, wherefore I sit in shade,
And why is thus, my Tragedie vnmade.
Who thinkes great scorne, in silence still to sleepe,
26
Did Boccace liue, or Lidgate write againe,
Some hope were left, my lanterne should haue light:
If any one, that had a Poets vaine.
Knew halfe my life, or had my case in sight,
In colours fine, I should bee paynted right.
But gaping graue, and gnawing wormes below,
Snapt Bocace vp, and Lidgate long agoe,
And Poets sleepe, within Parnassus mount,
Where loe! of mee, they make but small account.
Some hope were left, my lanterne should haue light:
If any one, that had a Poets vaine.
Knew halfe my life, or had my case in sight,
In colours fine, I should bee paynted right.
But gaping graue, and gnawing wormes below,
Snapt Bocace vp, and Lidgate long agoe,
And Poets sleepe, within Parnassus mount,
Where loe! of mee, they make but small account.
O Bauldwin yet, what blot was in my brow,
That made thee blushe, or feare to write my fall:
With what offence, can world come charge me now,
That I maie not, for Baldwins fauour call.
Yea durst I clayme, the helpe of Poets all,
I doubt their skill, could scarcely shew in deede.
In this behalfe, the cunning that doth neede.
Well Baldwin well, if headlesse men might chide,
I know what check, and blame should Baldwin bide,
That made thee blushe, or feare to write my fall:
With what offence, can world come charge me now,
That I maie not, for Baldwins fauour call.
Yea durst I clayme, the helpe of Poets all,
I doubt their skill, could scarcely shew in deede.
In this behalfe, the cunning that doth neede.
Well Baldwin well, if headlesse men might chide,
I know what check, and blame should Baldwin bide,
How couldst thou reade, in storyes any while,
And so skip ore, my life and destney straunge:
Thou knowst, how hap, on mee full long did smile,
And that my state, stoode free from doubt of chaunge.
I sprong not foorth, of such a simple graunge:
That I should dwell, in dust from minde of men,
While others are, set out by arte of Pen.
Thou dost me wrong, wherefore the wounde to heale
(That sloth hath made,) to Churchyard I appeale.
And so skip ore, my life and destney straunge:
Thou knowst, how hap, on mee full long did smile,
And that my state, stoode free from doubt of chaunge.
I sprong not foorth, of such a simple graunge:
That I should dwell, in dust from minde of men,
While others are, set out by arte of Pen.
Thou dost me wrong, wherefore the wounde to heale
(That sloth hath made,) to Churchyard I appeale.
Let him be iudge, of all my doings throw,
Let him vnfolde, my fortune sweete or sowre:
Yea vnto him, I tell my sorrows now.
Whose resteles hand, is writing euery howre,
And so I leaue, thee Baldwin in thy bowre.
Of Lawrell leaues, where thou mayst sit and see,
At open view, what Churchyard writes of mee.
But erre hee takes in hand this worke of mine:
I tell my tale, with weeping blubbring eyne.
Let him vnfolde, my fortune sweete or sowre:
Yea vnto him, I tell my sorrows now.
27
And so I leaue, thee Baldwin in thy bowre.
Of Lawrell leaues, where thou mayst sit and see,
At open view, what Churchyard writes of mee.
But erre hee takes in hand this worke of mine:
I tell my tale, with weeping blubbring eyne.
Giue eare good friend, and heare what I shall say,
And for the while, set all affaires aside:
But sure I feare, too short I finde the day.
To shew my griefe, that hardely can I hide,
Yet through I goe, and hope with happie tide,
Though haplesse wind, hath blowne my barke about
And daungers deepe, did driue my dayes in doubt.
Since calme is come, and quiet ease I haue:
Heare his complaint, that late crept out of graue.
And for the while, set all affaires aside:
But sure I feare, too short I finde the day.
To shew my griefe, that hardely can I hide,
Yet through I goe, and hope with happie tide,
Though haplesse wind, hath blowne my barke about
And daungers deepe, did driue my dayes in doubt.
Since calme is come, and quiet ease I haue:
Heare his complaint, that late crept out of graue.
How should I speake, that holdes my head in hand,
(Which sencelesse scalpe, both life & speech hath lost:)
Yet out of brest, though headlesse heere I stand.
I may blase foorth, the griefes of groning Ghost:
As from the Seas, that is with torments tost.
Coms roring noyse, when calmes full quiet are:
So breath I out, from breast my boyling care.
Though head be off, a smoaking fume proceedes,
From quaking necke, & gushing vaines that bleedes.
(Which sencelesse scalpe, both life & speech hath lost:)
Yet out of brest, though headlesse heere I stand.
I may blase foorth, the griefes of groning Ghost:
As from the Seas, that is with torments tost.
Coms roring noyse, when calmes full quiet are:
So breath I out, from breast my boyling care.
Though head be off, a smoaking fume proceedes,
From quaking necke, & gushing vaines that bleedes.
Heare him I saie, whose vowels speakes alone,
And wants in deede, both vse of tongue and wit:
Heare him that must, by arte come make his moone,
And takes therefore, the members meete and fit,
Heare him that groanes, & howles from hollow pit.
Heare him whose voice, doth giue a fearefull sounde,
Heare him that long, lay rotten in the grounde.
Heare him whose plaint, may pearse the loftie skies,
And for thy ayde, and English verses cryes.
And wants in deede, both vse of tongue and wit:
Heare him that must, by arte come make his moone,
And takes therefore, the members meete and fit,
Heare him that groanes, & howles from hollow pit.
Heare him whose voice, doth giue a fearefull sounde,
Heare him that long, lay rotten in the grounde.
Heare him whose plaint, may pearse the loftie skies,
28
As naked sure, as he was lapt in sheete,
UUith deadly lookes, and grisely staring heare:
Not like a man, but like a monstrous spreete,
Sent from the pit, to whisper in thyne eare,
And make thee muse, of world another where.
For heere as time, doth softly steale away,
So life and laude, and all things doth decay.
No byrth nor blood, nor flocks of freinds preuayles,
When sturdie stormes, strikes downe our stately sayles.
UUith deadly lookes, and grisely staring heare:
Not like a man, but like a monstrous spreete,
Sent from the pit, to whisper in thyne eare,
And make thee muse, of world another where.
For heere as time, doth softly steale away,
So life and laude, and all things doth decay.
No byrth nor blood, nor flocks of freinds preuayles,
When sturdie stormes, strikes downe our stately sayles.
The ship must sway, aside or sincke in seas,
That shaken is, with shocking surges still:
The greenest grasse, that growes in goodliest leas.
To partching heate, must yelde by reasons skill,
What stone can stay, that rowleth downe the hill.
What foote can stand, that fortune dayly trips,
What liuing wight, can scape her scorging whips.
No sooner out, of shell or mothers lap:
But subiect straight, to sorrow and mishap.
That shaken is, with shocking surges still:
The greenest grasse, that growes in goodliest leas.
To partching heate, must yelde by reasons skill,
What stone can stay, that rowleth downe the hill.
What foote can stand, that fortune dayly trips,
What liuing wight, can scape her scorging whips.
No sooner out, of shell or mothers lap:
But subiect straight, to sorrow and mishap.
The life that some, most sweetely do embrace,
To troubled teares, doth turne or wee bee ware.
Wee are in loue, with fond Narcissus face.
And droun'de our selues, in that whereon wee stare,
And feede the flesh, so long with daintie fare.
That belly swelles, or stomacke belcheth vp,
The liquor sweete, that came from spiced cup.
On dayes disgrace, doth breede an endlesse sore:
And payse vs home for all things past before.
To troubled teares, doth turne or wee bee ware.
Wee are in loue, with fond Narcissus face.
And droun'de our selues, in that whereon wee stare,
And feede the flesh, so long with daintie fare.
That belly swelles, or stomacke belcheth vp,
The liquor sweete, that came from spiced cup.
On dayes disgrace, doth breede an endlesse sore:
And payse vs home for all things past before.
Yet climing vp, the tree of tickle trust,
Wee streache the arme, as farre as reach may goe:
Disguisd, with pompe, and pampred vp with lust,
We gase alof, and neuer lookes beloe,
Till hatchet comes, and giues the fauling blo,
Then crake it cries, and all in shiuers flies,
That many a day, was mounting to the Skies,
One stroke throwes down, a thousand bowse withal,
And such as clime, are crusht by sodaine fall.
Wee streache the arme, as farre as reach may goe:
Disguisd, with pompe, and pampred vp with lust,
29
Till hatchet comes, and giues the fauling blo,
Then crake it cries, and all in shiuers flies,
That many a day, was mounting to the Skies,
One stroke throwes down, a thousand bowse withal,
And such as clime, are crusht by sodaine fall.
Was I not one, that in toppe Gallant stoode,
And bare great sway, with him that rulde the roste:
Was not my house, sprong out of Gentle blood.
And was not I, long time in fauour most:
Yes sure I was, and therefore make I boste,
At schoole brought vp, with Prince of peereles race,
A playfeere long, with him in euery place.
My childhood wan, such loue and liking great,
That in mine age, I sat in Senate seate.
And bare great sway, with him that rulde the roste:
Was not my house, sprong out of Gentle blood.
And was not I, long time in fauour most:
Yes sure I was, and therefore make I boste,
At schoole brought vp, with Prince of peereles race,
A playfeere long, with him in euery place.
My childhood wan, such loue and liking great,
That in mine age, I sat in Senate seate.
Was not my Sire, about a King esteemde,
And highly plast, (whereby he purchast praise)
And neere the King, in fauour as it seemde.
Yea much made of, full long before my daies.
Was not I sent, Embaster sundry waies.
And did not I, my duety euery houre
With paine and purse, as far as stretcht my powre,
The World well knowes, what seruice I haue done,
And by the same, what honor I haue wonne.
And highly plast, (whereby he purchast praise)
And neere the King, in fauour as it seemde.
Yea much made of, full long before my daies.
Was not I sent, Embaster sundry waies.
And did not I, my duety euery houre
With paine and purse, as far as stretcht my powre,
The World well knowes, what seruice I haue done,
And by the same, what honor I haue wonne.
My manhood made, mine enimies fly like sheepe,
(Before the Wolfe, that watcheth for his pray)
My wisedome did, in peace the Commons keepe.
When Iohn of Gaunt, they would haue made away,
My presence oft, could quiet many a fray.
My councell coold, the rage of retchlesse heads,
My stoutnesse serude, the state in sundry steads,
My noble minde, could neuer take no rest.
For publike wealth, I had such burning brest.
(Before the Wolfe, that watcheth for his pray)
My wisedome did, in peace the Commons keepe.
When Iohn of Gaunt, they would haue made away,
My presence oft, could quiet many a fray.
My councell coold, the rage of retchlesse heads,
My stoutnesse serude, the state in sundry steads,
My noble minde, could neuer take no rest.
30
In Poiteou long, against the French I was,
Where frontier warre. I held and did full well:
And as I did, through many a perill passe,
In comming home, in Enemies hands I fell.
And when in deede, my Prince thereat heard tell,
He sorry was, and spake of me much good,
But as these things, in waight and ballaunce stoode:
Our Souldiers tooke, a Dutches of great fame,
Who at that time, of Burbon bare the name.
Where frontier warre. I held and did full well:
And as I did, through many a perill passe,
In comming home, in Enemies hands I fell.
And when in deede, my Prince thereat heard tell,
He sorry was, and spake of me much good,
But as these things, in waight and ballaunce stoode:
Our Souldiers tooke, a Dutches of great fame,
Who at that time, of Burbon bare the name.
The Souldiers swore, that shee should nere bee free,
(Nor see her Sonne, nor finde a sparke of grace:
Nor looke for hope,) till she had raunsomde me.
And set me safe, in good and quiet case:
Loe what regard they had, in euery place.
Of me those daies, loe? how I was on height,
Loe? how I was, emploide in things of weight.
At home embraste, abroad well likt with all,
Yea loude and fearde, among both great and small.
(Nor see her Sonne, nor finde a sparke of grace:
Nor looke for hope,) till she had raunsomde me.
And set me safe, in good and quiet case:
Loe what regard they had, in euery place.
Of me those daies, loe? how I was on height,
Loe? how I was, emploide in things of weight.
At home embraste, abroad well likt with all,
Yea loude and fearde, among both great and small.
When forraine friends, did send for succour heere,
King Richard had, me aunswere make therein:
In presence then, there stoode a greater Peere.
But I was he, that did the fauour winne:
To speake and thus, my credite did beginne,
And still increasde, as one whose Lampe in deede,
Could want no Oile, the blase and flame to feede.
My Candle blasde, so cleere, as Starre by night,
And where I came, the Torche gaue little light.
King Richard had, me aunswere make therein:
In presence then, there stoode a greater Peere.
But I was he, that did the fauour winne:
To speake and thus, my credite did beginne,
And still increasde, as one whose Lampe in deede,
Could want no Oile, the blase and flame to feede.
My Candle blasde, so cleere, as Starre by night,
And where I came, the Torche gaue little light.
And when the King, for causes good and great,
Deuisde to match, with one beyond the seas:
Twas I was thought, most fit to worke the feate.
And in this case, the King I did so please,
Of mariage there, that knot was knit with ease,
And so from thence, a Duke was sent with me:
For this behalfe, the state of things to see.
Thus still I was, employde in great affaires,
As hap her selfe, had hald me vp her staires.
Deuisde to match, with one beyond the seas:
Twas I was thought, most fit to worke the feate.
31
Of mariage there, that knot was knit with ease,
And so from thence, a Duke was sent with me:
For this behalfe, the state of things to see.
Thus still I was, employde in great affaires,
As hap her selfe, had hald me vp her staires.
An office heere, I had of great renowne,
A place neere Prince, and still in Court to be:
That might commaund, the people vp and downe.
And thrust them out, or call them in to me.
Bad I them run, on flockes then would they flee,
Bad I them stand, in deede they durst not sit:
I swaide them all, as Horse is rulde by Bit.
I bare in hand, the Staffe that kept the stur,
And knockt their Pates, that prest too neere the dur.
A place neere Prince, and still in Court to be:
That might commaund, the people vp and downe.
And thrust them out, or call them in to me.
Bad I them run, on flockes then would they flee,
Bad I them stand, in deede they durst not sit:
I swaide them all, as Horse is rulde by Bit.
I bare in hand, the Staffe that kept the stur,
And knockt their Pates, that prest too neere the dur.
Lord Warden loe? of the sincke Ports I was,
And Captaine both, of Douer Castle tho:
Through Lordly roumes, and places I did passe,
As easely sure, as man can wish to goe:
I knew no Ebbe, my Tide did daily floe,
I kept the traine, I had the liuely troope,
I held vp head, I neuer thought to droope.
I went no where, but I was waited on,
And shone in Pompe, like Pearle, or Precious ston.
And Captaine both, of Douer Castle tho:
Through Lordly roumes, and places I did passe,
As easely sure, as man can wish to goe:
I knew no Ebbe, my Tide did daily floe,
I kept the traine, I had the liuely troope,
I held vp head, I neuer thought to droope.
I went no where, but I was waited on,
And shone in Pompe, like Pearle, or Precious ston.
Among the chiefe, yea chiefest was I held,
My Prince preferde, me so for vertues sake:
And what he saw, I able was to welde.
I had, for which, I seldome suite did make,
I stoode beneath, whilst he did Apples shake
Into my lap, when least I lookt therefore.
As somewhat came, so daily followed more,
By heapes as though, great mounts of massy Gould,
In my most neede, should aunswere what I would.
My Prince preferde, me so for vertues sake:
And what he saw, I able was to welde.
I had, for which, I seldome suite did make,
I stoode beneath, whilst he did Apples shake
Into my lap, when least I lookt therefore.
As somewhat came, so daily followed more,
By heapes as though, great mounts of massy Gould,
32
The flouds of wealth, that doth refresh the minde,
With gladsome thoughts, of threefolde sweet delite,
Came gushing in, against both Tyde and Winde,
On which faire baites, each Fish desires to bite.
A carelesse eie, I cast, of Worlds despite,
That spurnes at such, that Fortune liftes alofte,
A wicked Worme, that waites on worship ofte,
A swarme of Wasps, that vseth nought but sting.
On those that rise, and rules about a King.
With gladsome thoughts, of threefolde sweet delite,
Came gushing in, against both Tyde and Winde,
On which faire baites, each Fish desires to bite.
A carelesse eie, I cast, of Worlds despite,
That spurnes at such, that Fortune liftes alofte,
A wicked Worme, that waites on worship ofte,
A swarme of Wasps, that vseth nought but sting.
On those that rise, and rules about a King.
O hatefull flies, yee hatcht of wretched broode,
On euery dish, in hast yee blow and humme:
O canckred men, of vile and noughty moode,
You doe infect, all places where you cumme,
You make small shew, yet sound as shrill as Drum,
In peoples eares, and still your Poison restes,
On noble mindes, and tender harmelesse Brests.
Yee mallice much, the high and mighty sort,
To kill good name, by brute of false report.
On euery dish, in hast yee blow and humme:
O canckred men, of vile and noughty moode,
You doe infect, all places where you cumme,
You make small shew, yet sound as shrill as Drum,
In peoples eares, and still your Poison restes,
On noble mindes, and tender harmelesse Brests.
Yee mallice much, the high and mighty sort,
To kill good name, by brute of false report.
If poore men rise, in fauour any way,
The rich repines, to see how they are plaste:
As Hounds doe barke, that houlds the Bucke at bay,
The people prate, and spend much speech in waste,
Looke saith the lewde, on new start vps in haste.
Looke who rules now, looke what this man hath found,
Looke how in Lappe, doth Fortunes Ball rebound:
They lookte not how, to climbe for Uertues sake,
But how of World, they may a wonder make.
The rich repines, to see how they are plaste:
As Hounds doe barke, that houlds the Bucke at bay,
The people prate, and spend much speech in waste,
Looke saith the lewde, on new start vps in haste.
Looke who rules now, looke what this man hath found,
Looke how in Lappe, doth Fortunes Ball rebound:
They lookte not how, to climbe for Uertues sake,
But how of World, they may a wonder make.
So lofty mindes, with lothsome lowring lookes,
Salutes the good, that growes in Princes grace:
And watcheth close, in corners and in Nookes.
How they by wiles, the worthy may deface,
No maruaile sure, it is a common case.
To heare them snarre, whose natures are not like,
What Greiund can rest, by currish countrey Tike?
What Hawke can sit, in peace for carraine Crow?
What tongue can scape, the skolding of a Shrow.
Salutes the good, that growes in Princes grace:
And watcheth close, in corners and in Nookes.
33
No maruaile sure, it is a common case.
To heare them snarre, whose natures are not like,
What Greiund can rest, by currish countrey Tike?
What Hawke can sit, in peace for carraine Crow?
What tongue can scape, the skolding of a Shrow.
The dolt disdaines, the deepe wise man ye wot,
The blunt abhors, the quicke sharpe Wit in deede:
The Coward hates, the hand that conquest got.
The Iade will winche, to stand by sturring Steede.
The Glutton grunts, to see the hungry feede.
Thus things from kinde, so farre can neare agree,
No more then can, the Catte and Dogge you see
As choise is great, of wealth and worldly goods,
Men differ much, in manners and in moods.
The blunt abhors, the quicke sharpe Wit in deede:
The Coward hates, the hand that conquest got.
The Iade will winche, to stand by sturring Steede.
The Glutton grunts, to see the hungry feede.
Thus things from kinde, so farre can neare agree,
No more then can, the Catte and Dogge you see
As choise is great, of wealth and worldly goods,
Men differ much, in manners and in moods.
One Iewell staines, another very farre,
And strife there is, in mettalls grosse and fine:
And sundry happs, belongs to euery starre.
And Planets to, they say that can deuine.
One race and bloud, doe seldome draw one line,
A graine of grudge, is sowne so deepely heere,
That nothing scarce, can scape from mallice cleere.
Thus mallice makes, a murmur where it goes,
And strikes out right, yet giues but secret blowes.
And strife there is, in mettalls grosse and fine:
And sundry happs, belongs to euery starre.
And Planets to, they say that can deuine.
One race and bloud, doe seldome draw one line,
A graine of grudge, is sowne so deepely heere,
That nothing scarce, can scape from mallice cleere.
Thus mallice makes, a murmur where it goes,
And strikes out right, yet giues but secret blowes.
The greedy Gnat, and priuy eating Mothe,
(A monster small, that skarce is felt or seene:)
Lies lurking still, in plaits of finest cloth,
And little worms, whilst Nuts are fresh and greene,
Creepes in and eats, the kirnell as I weene.
So vnto them, compare these peeuish pates,
That on small cause, doe enuy great estates,
Yea enuy oft, is coutcht and clokt as cleane,
In mighty folke, as founde among the meane.
(A monster small, that skarce is felt or seene:)
Lies lurking still, in plaits of finest cloth,
And little worms, whilst Nuts are fresh and greene,
Creepes in and eats, the kirnell as I weene.
So vnto them, compare these peeuish pates,
That on small cause, doe enuy great estates,
Yea enuy oft, is coutcht and clokt as cleane,
34
The flashing flames, that from great Fornace flies,
Casts forth such heat, as few men can abide:
The rage whereof, doth dimme the dainty eies:
And breeds great griefe, before the harme be spide,
Much mischiefe comes, by pranks of powting pride,
Which puffes and blowes, as it would mountaines moue,
And growes at first, on nought, but lacke of loue
Whose spitefull sparkes, doth spare no speach nor time,
(Nor practise lewd) to plucke them down that clime.
Casts forth such heat, as few men can abide:
The rage whereof, doth dimme the dainty eies:
And breeds great griefe, before the harme be spide,
Much mischiefe comes, by pranks of powting pride,
Which puffes and blowes, as it would mountaines moue,
And growes at first, on nought, but lacke of loue
Whose spitefull sparkes, doth spare no speach nor time,
(Nor practise lewd) to plucke them down that clime.
This Enuy is, a mighty Monster great,
That swims like Whale, among the little fry:
Whose gaping mouth, would soone consume and eats,
The Gogions small, that in small corners lie.
His thirsty throate, would drinke all places dry,
And sucks vp all, and so of all leaues nought.
Which should serue all, if all did beare one thought.
O hungry Flie, that would be all in all,
And Maggots brings, when men for feeding call.
That swims like Whale, among the little fry:
Whose gaping mouth, would soone consume and eats,
The Gogions small, that in small corners lie.
His thirsty throate, would drinke all places dry,
And sucks vp all, and so of all leaues nought.
Which should serue all, if all did beare one thought.
O hungry Flie, that would be all in all,
And Maggots brings, when men for feeding call.
As greatest flouds, most Grauell doe retaine,
And strongest Tides, runnes ore the weakest walles,
So highest States, doe nourish most disdaine.
And at rebound, strikes out the tennis Balles.
Yea they who thinkes, them furthest off from falles,
Are watching still, in Court, in Field, or Towne,
Like stumbling stockes, to trip their fellowes down,
And none doe striue, and struggle for the goales,
But such as haue, their hearts most full of hoales.
And strongest Tides, runnes ore the weakest walles,
So highest States, doe nourish most disdaine.
And at rebound, strikes out the tennis Balles.
Yea they who thinkes, them furthest off from falles,
Are watching still, in Court, in Field, or Towne,
Like stumbling stockes, to trip their fellowes down,
And none doe striue, and struggle for the goales,
But such as haue, their hearts most full of hoales.
Yea heapes of them, are harbred heere and theare,
In golden haules, that shines like Phœbus bright:
Where flattrers flocke, who tattles in the eare.
A thousand lies, that neuer comes to light,
They worke the waxe, with fire both day and night,
They spinne the webbe, that takes the foolish flie.
They baite the Hooke, that bleres the simple eie,
They shoue them out, that should be called in,
They make the match, that doth the wager win.
In golden haules, that shines like Phœbus bright:
Where flattrers flocke, who tattles in the eare.
35
They worke the waxe, with fire both day and night,
They spinne the webbe, that takes the foolish flie.
They baite the Hooke, that bleres the simple eie,
They shoue them out, that should be called in,
They make the match, that doth the wager win.
And they breede strife, where all in quiet stood,
They packe the Cards, and play most filthy prankes,
They sharpe the sword, that sheads the guiltles bloud
They least deserue, and alwaies gets most thankes,
They feed the stream, that breaks the mighty banks.
They are the sheares, that marrs the garment quite.
They haue the tongs, that spares no speach nor spite,
They are the Babes, still dandled on the knee,
And those are they, rootes vp the soundest tree.
They packe the Cards, and play most filthy prankes,
They sharpe the sword, that sheads the guiltles bloud
They least deserue, and alwaies gets most thankes,
They feed the stream, that breaks the mighty banks.
They are the sheares, that marrs the garment quite.
They haue the tongs, that spares no speach nor spite,
They are the Babes, still dandled on the knee,
And those are they, rootes vp the soundest tree.
If fawners fled, the house of mighty men,
And [illeg.] folke, would frowne on fawning curres,
Deceipt should shunne, the noble houses then.
And veluet weedes, should shake off cleauing burres,
But stirring steedes, are prickt that needs no spurres,
Thus Palfray flings, and flounceth out of frame,
That els of kinde, were curteous meeke and tame.
A iombling iob, doth strike the bowle awry,
Which of himselfe, would close on bias lie.
And [illeg.] folke, would frowne on fawning curres,
Deceipt should shunne, the noble houses then.
And veluet weedes, should shake off cleauing burres,
But stirring steedes, are prickt that needs no spurres,
Thus Palfray flings, and flounceth out of frame,
That els of kinde, were curteous meeke and tame.
A iombling iob, doth strike the bowle awry,
Which of himselfe, would close on bias lie.
For noble bloud, must needs haue noble minde,
And [illeg.] the gate, of fawcon gentle milde,
And sure it is, against their noble kinde,
To play the Kite, and cruell Coistrell wilde,
Till tatlers come, with tongues full finely filde,
And change their moodes, and marre their manners cleane,
They skarce doe knowe, what cankred hate doth meane.
But when from best, to worst the good are wrought,
By busie braines, all sortes of sleights are sought.
And [illeg.] the gate, of fawcon gentle milde,
And sure it is, against their noble kinde,
To play the Kite, and cruell Coistrell wilde,
Till tatlers come, with tongues full finely filde,
And change their moodes, and marre their manners cleane,
They skarce doe knowe, what cankred hate doth meane.
But when from best, to worst the good are wrought,
36
Then burnes the brest, as hot as Ethna hill,
And rage beares rule, where reason dwelt before:
The hasty head, is swift to slay and kill.
The hauty heart, hurds vp much hate in store,
The altred minde, doth make the mischiefe more,
The kindled coales, doth creepe in straw so farre,
That quarrels rise, and peace is turnd to warre.
One haleth backe, another drawes aside,
And weakest bones, must needes the brunt abide.
And rage beares rule, where reason dwelt before:
The hasty head, is swift to slay and kill.
The hauty heart, hurds vp much hate in store,
The altred minde, doth make the mischiefe more,
The kindled coales, doth creepe in straw so farre,
That quarrels rise, and peace is turnd to warre.
One haleth backe, another drawes aside,
And weakest bones, must needes the brunt abide.
As I aspierd, by vertue and desarte,
And was by Prince, cald vnto credite still:
So some by sleight, did seeke to sucke my heart.
And of my bloud, did thirst, to drinke their fill,
They sought to stop, the Water from the mill.
And turne the wheele, and all the ioints awry.
Loe heare how cloase, the swelling Serpents lie,
Loe how they cast, their venome as they may,
And marke what hate, they gaine that beareth sway.
And was by Prince, cald vnto credite still:
So some by sleight, did seeke to sucke my heart.
And of my bloud, did thirst, to drinke their fill,
They sought to stop, the Water from the mill.
And turne the wheele, and all the ioints awry.
Loe heare how cloase, the swelling Serpents lie,
Loe how they cast, their venome as they may,
And marke what hate, they gaine that beareth sway.
For that I grew, full great with Robert Vear,
A Noble man, full wise and mighty both,
And had the guide, of good Prince Edwards ear,
To show therein, my duety, faith and troth,
Great mallice rose, as grudging daily groth,
Tweene many men, that cannot rule their rage.
A mighty Duke, there was well stept in age,
That sought to reape, the corne that I had sowne,
And could not rest, till I was quite orethrowne.
A Noble man, full wise and mighty both,
And had the guide, of good Prince Edwards ear,
To show therein, my duety, faith and troth,
Great mallice rose, as grudging daily groth,
Tweene many men, that cannot rule their rage.
A mighty Duke, there was well stept in age,
That sought to reape, the corne that I had sowne,
And could not rest, till I was quite orethrowne.
My roulmes and rule, and things that I had gote,
My gaine, my wealth, and glory as it grew:
Was in his eie, so bigge a mighty mote,
That loe this Duke, my plague did still pursue,
With open mouth, he so the bellows blue
That sparkes of fire, as thick flew in my face,
As in the sunne, the gnatts do flie at chace.
Or as the ball, rebounds at euerie stroke,
So lo his words, did smore mee vp in smoke.
My gaine, my wealth, and glory as it grew:
Was in his eie, so bigge a mighty mote,
37
With open mouth, he so the bellows blue
That sparkes of fire, as thick flew in my face,
As in the sunne, the gnatts do flie at chace.
Or as the ball, rebounds at euerie stroke,
So lo his words, did smore mee vp in smoke.
The dreadfull Duke, did driue a wondrous drift
To worke his will, with slipperie sleight of hand:
And sought to giue, king Richards friends a lift,
For whom he did, prepare a secret band.
Whose bold attempts, did trouble all this land.
But few could find, the darnell in the corne,
Or iudge aright, the rose from pricking thorne.
So close in cloud, was clokte their cunning art,
That none could know, who plaide the Foxes part.
To worke his will, with slipperie sleight of hand:
And sought to giue, king Richards friends a lift,
For whom he did, prepare a secret band.
Whose bold attempts, did trouble all this land.
But few could find, the darnell in the corne,
Or iudge aright, the rose from pricking thorne.
So close in cloud, was clokte their cunning art,
That none could know, who plaide the Foxes part.
This Duke did rayse, a brute the king would haue,
A tare most straunge, of all the realme throughout:
And to the Lords, and Commons councell gaue,
Against the king, to stand both stiffe and stout,
This practise proude, was patcht with many a clout:
Heere did the wolfe, lead silly lambes amisse,
(And suckt their bloud,) as woluish manner is.
Heere traytrous tricks, and treble trothlesse traynes,
In subiects brests, beganne to spreade their vaynes.
A tare most straunge, of all the realme throughout:
And to the Lords, and Commons councell gaue,
Against the king, to stand both stiffe and stout,
This practise proude, was patcht with many a clout:
Heere did the wolfe, lead silly lambes amisse,
(And suckt their bloud,) as woluish manner is.
Heere traytrous tricks, and treble trothlesse traynes,
In subiects brests, beganne to spreade their vaynes.
The Duke of Yorke, and diuers noble Peeres
Forsooke the king, and held with this vprore:
By which great strife, was sowne in sundry Shieres,
And corzies rose, that made a running sore.
Bigge biles brast out, where flesh was sound before,
And though some time, the Surgeon salue did find
To heale the wound, (the skarre remaynde behind.)
A common plague, doth creepe along the Realme,
As skulls of fish, swimmes vp and down the streame.
Forsooke the king, and held with this vprore:
By which great strife, was sowne in sundry Shieres,
And corzies rose, that made a running sore.
Bigge biles brast out, where flesh was sound before,
And though some time, the Surgeon salue did find
To heale the wound, (the skarre remaynde behind.)
A common plague, doth creepe along the Realme,
38
The greatest townes, and Citties of most name,
As London, Yorke, and many mo beside:
These Dukes did drawe, with folly out of frame.
And made some striue, against both streame and tide,
Where banks be broke, the water cannot bide.
Where flouds flooe out, the fish doe follow fast,
And then too late, to call againe is past.
The Swallow flies, no swifter vnder winge,
Then mens deuice, that do forsake a King.
As London, Yorke, and many mo beside:
These Dukes did drawe, with folly out of frame.
And made some striue, against both streame and tide,
Where banks be broke, the water cannot bide.
Where flouds flooe out, the fish doe follow fast,
And then too late, to call againe is past.
The Swallow flies, no swifter vnder winge,
Then mens deuice, that do forsake a King.
For fayth once staynde, seekes straight for starting holes,
As Prisners do, that hath their promise broke:
The seames once ript, of shue farewell the soles,
The Oxe set free, will seeke to shunne the yoke,
The chimney bruste, the house is full of smoke.
The sleuce drawne vp, downe driues the dregs and all,
The strongest tript, the weakest needs must fall.
There is no stay, to holde meane people in,
When might with mayne, the mischiefe doth begin.
As Prisners do, that hath their promise broke:
The seames once ript, of shue farewell the soles,
The Oxe set free, will seeke to shunne the yoke,
The chimney bruste, the house is full of smoke.
The sleuce drawne vp, downe driues the dregs and all,
The strongest tript, the weakest needs must fall.
There is no stay, to holde meane people in,
When might with mayne, the mischiefe doth begin.
The Lords alledgd, the King was gouernd still,
By such as came, from base and poore estate:
And sayde he should, no longer haue his will,
By which bolde speach, there grew so great debate,
The land was bent, on murther, ruyne, and hate.
Now seuerall waies, from hiue flue out the Bees,
Now tempests came, and tare vp mightie trees.
Now traytors flockt, and fell to factions straunge,
Whose fickle mindes, still gaped for a chaunge.
By such as came, from base and poore estate:
And sayde he should, no longer haue his will,
By which bolde speach, there grew so great debate,
The land was bent, on murther, ruyne, and hate.
Now seuerall waies, from hiue flue out the Bees,
Now tempests came, and tare vp mightie trees.
Now traytors flockt, and fell to factions straunge,
Whose fickle mindes, still gaped for a chaunge.
O Uipers broode, and bloodie bosome snakes,
O Butchers curres, that would your maister byte:
O Helhoundes rude, of Plutos lothsome Lakes,
O cursed crue, more cruell then the Kyte,
O cankred hartes, so fraught with frowarde spite.
O Tygers wilde, O monstruous men most vile,
Where was your loue, and duty all this while
How durst you speake, so stoutly to his face
To whom of right, the stoutest ought giue place.
O Butchers curres, that would your maister byte:
O Helhoundes rude, of Plutos lothsome Lakes,
39
O cankred hartes, so fraught with frowarde spite.
O Tygers wilde, O monstruous men most vile,
Where was your loue, and duty all this while
How durst you speake, so stoutly to his face
To whom of right, the stoutest ought giue place.
Among brute beasts, that sauage are and wilde,
The Lion raignes, and rules with regall power:
And so great birds, stoupes downe like little childe,
(To fathers becke) if Eagle doth but lowre,
Than on a king, dare people looke so sowre.
That they will force, their soueraigne past their reach
No scholler ought, his learned tutor teach.
No member dare, presume to rule the head:
None raignes & rules, but kings when all is sed.
The Lion raignes, and rules with regall power:
And so great birds, stoupes downe like little childe,
(To fathers becke) if Eagle doth but lowre,
Than on a king, dare people looke so sowre.
That they will force, their soueraigne past their reach
No scholler ought, his learned tutor teach.
No member dare, presume to rule the head:
None raignes & rules, but kings when all is sed.
Note how they shrinke, that shapes to giue a shocke
Against a king, and marke how traytors speede:
Note how their heads do tumble off the blocke,
That with vaine hope, doe peoples humors feede,
And note from whence, doth princes power proceede.
And note withall, how farre doth stretch his fame,
And faulters quake, that doe but heare his name.
For at the brunt, say heere a king doth come,
Home run poor knaues, & down they fling the drome.
Against a king, and marke how traytors speede:
Note how their heads do tumble off the blocke,
That with vaine hope, doe peoples humors feede,
And note from whence, doth princes power proceede.
And note withall, how farre doth stretch his fame,
And faulters quake, that doe but heare his name.
For at the brunt, say heere a king doth come,
Home run poor knaues, & down they fling the drome.
Harke how this Duke, whereof I spake before,
By three estates, vnto accompt did call:
Their king and lord, whose minds they troubled sore
And vext thereby, his friends and fauourers all.
They fill in lash, they felt the bloudy braule.
They lost their goodes, they got a great disgrace,
They fled from Court, they were pursued in chace.
They were full faine, for none offence or cause,
At open barre, to pleade their case by lawes.
By three estates, vnto accompt did call:
Their king and lord, whose minds they troubled sore
And vext thereby, his friends and fauourers all.
They fill in lash, they felt the bloudy braule.
They lost their goodes, they got a great disgrace,
They fled from Court, they were pursued in chace.
They were full faine, for none offence or cause,
40
Such are the happes, of those that hould with right,
Such cureles wounds, they haue that sores would heale:
Such hate they heape, in hucksters hands that light,
Such harmes they find, that stands with common weale.
And such know not, to whome they would appeale,
When wrong will rule, and reuell fals to spoyle,
The faythfull flocke, are forst to feele the foyle.
Dread driues desarts, that dayly well haue done:
To flie from foes, or else through fire to runne.
Such cureles wounds, they haue that sores would heale:
Such hate they heape, in hucksters hands that light,
Such harmes they find, that stands with common weale.
And such know not, to whome they would appeale,
When wrong will rule, and reuell fals to spoyle,
The faythfull flocke, are forst to feele the foyle.
Dread driues desarts, that dayly well haue done:
To flie from foes, or else through fire to runne.
Because the Lords, who lookt to leade the daunce,
Saw other step, on stage ere they could rise:
By plaine fine force, they would themselues aduaunce.
And for that feate, this drift they did deuise,
Desire of fame, doth so abuse the wise,
They end like fooles, that erst beganne so well,
And soonest smart, that ringes the larum bell.
For wheeles and all, fals downe about their eares,
(From rotten frames) who first stood voide of feares.
Saw other step, on stage ere they could rise:
By plaine fine force, they would themselues aduaunce.
And for that feate, this drift they did deuise,
Desire of fame, doth so abuse the wise,
They end like fooles, that erst beganne so well,
And soonest smart, that ringes the larum bell.
For wheeles and all, fals downe about their eares,
(From rotten frames) who first stood voide of feares.
But we who were, besiegd by fortune so,
Betrayd I meane, if troth may tell the tale:
Were scourgde & plagude, & faine to fawne on Foe,
And sue to such, as set our liues to sale.
Wee were shut vp, they had the bouncing gale.
That blew their barke, beyonde our compasse cleane:
With sailes aslaunt, and had no merrie meane.
They clapt on all, and went through streame & flud:
When true mens feete, stood fast in mire and mud.
Betrayd I meane, if troth may tell the tale:
Were scourgde & plagude, & faine to fawne on Foe,
And sue to such, as set our liues to sale.
Wee were shut vp, they had the bouncing gale.
That blew their barke, beyonde our compasse cleane:
With sailes aslaunt, and had no merrie meane.
They clapt on all, and went through streame & flud:
When true mens feete, stood fast in mire and mud.
I was the man, that most of mischiefe had,
I was accusde, and calde to count in haste:
I founde most cause, to sigh and sit full sad.
I was layde vp, and thereby cleane disgracste,
Myne en'mies sayd, I did the treasure waste
And held in hand the souldiers money too,
I was so nipt, I knew not what to do.
My friends wext fainte, or ferd the like mischaunce,
But I was he, must leade the dolefull daunce.
I was accusde, and calde to count in haste:
I founde most cause, to sigh and sit full sad.
41
Myne en'mies sayd, I did the treasure waste
And held in hand the souldiers money too,
I was so nipt, I knew not what to do.
My friends wext fainte, or ferd the like mischaunce,
But I was he, must leade the dolefull daunce.
A mitred head, a Bishop bolde and braue
Sayd I conuayde, away Sainct Thomas shryne:
And that I ment, the king of Beame should haue,
The same from me, by priuie practise fine,
To hoyste me vp, he layd both hooke and line.
And so by friends, he framde so flat a feate,
That I was cald to straight accompt in heate
For this and more, a libell long and large
(Of forged faultes,) that he layd to my charge.
Sayd I conuayde, away Sainct Thomas shryne:
And that I ment, the king of Beame should haue,
The same from me, by priuie practise fine,
To hoyste me vp, he layd both hooke and line.
And so by friends, he framde so flat a feate,
That I was cald to straight accompt in heate
For this and more, a libell long and large
(Of forged faultes,) that he layd to my charge.
No Clarke might come, to make my reckning right,
No tale could serue, to show my matter throw
No deepe discourse, could bring the troth to light,
No man of law, could canuas cases now,
Strong hand did all, I must both bend and bow.
The king knew not, of halfe the wrongs I felt,
Nor none could find, how finely cardes were dealt,
A packe was made, and one had got the ace,
And trimely robd, the trumps before my face.
No tale could serue, to show my matter throw
No deepe discourse, could bring the troth to light,
No man of law, could canuas cases now,
Strong hand did all, I must both bend and bow.
The king knew not, of halfe the wrongs I felt,
Nor none could find, how finely cardes were dealt,
A packe was made, and one had got the ace,
And trimely robd, the trumps before my face.
No boote to bid, the Players deale againe,
The game was won, and I had lost the stake:
These Foysters fine, could nick both by and mayne,
And cog out right, when they the Dice did shake,
And of sweete spoyle, a bitter banquet make.
They calde me in, and I the only Gheaste,
Was bidden then, vnto that bloodie feaste,
I was compeld, to taste what dishe they wolde,
And in great heate, to drinke vp Poyson colde.
The game was won, and I had lost the stake:
These Foysters fine, could nick both by and mayne,
And cog out right, when they the Dice did shake,
And of sweete spoyle, a bitter banquet make.
They calde me in, and I the only Gheaste,
Was bidden then, vnto that bloodie feaste,
I was compeld, to taste what dishe they wolde,
144
I meane my fate, and fortune was so harde
I could not scape, their hands that sought my life,
Who wreakt their wrath, on me without regard,
Yet long in sheath, they kept the murthering Knife:
For on my hap, at first rose all this strife.
And on the freindes, that I by hap had wonne,
This end I had, and mischiefe was begonne,
For taking part, with such as likt me well,
To ground full flat, from top of tree I fell,
I could not scape, their hands that sought my life,
Who wreakt their wrath, on me without regard,
Yet long in sheath, they kept the murthering Knife:
For on my hap, at first rose all this strife.
And on the freindes, that I by hap had wonne,
This end I had, and mischiefe was begonne,
For taking part, with such as likt me well,
To ground full flat, from top of tree I fell,
When in the tower my Foes had clapt mee fast,
Few friends I found, the world beganne to winke:
And so at length, in Rerage was I cast,
And Poaste alone, was left to swimme or sincke.
And iudgement was, as I was forste to thinke
That I should pay, two hundreth thousand Frankes
For all my toyle, loe! heere is all my thankes
I did possesse, my charges and my losse
And paynes abroad, came home by weeping crosse.
Few friends I found, the world beganne to winke:
And so at length, in Rerage was I cast,
And Poaste alone, was left to swimme or sincke.
And iudgement was, as I was forste to thinke
That I should pay, two hundreth thousand Frankes
For all my toyle, loe! heere is all my thankes
I did possesse, my charges and my losse
And paynes abroad, came home by weeping crosse.
And wanting wealth, to pay this heauy summe
With Billes, and Glayues, from prison was I led
And so vnto, the Tower-hill did I come
To suffer death, where soone I lost my head.
The King knew naught, of this till I was dead.
Loe people heere! how things about were brought,
And what disdaine, and mighty malice wrought.
Loe! heere is ende, and sodayne sliding downe,
That was both true, to God and to the Crowne.
With Billes, and Glayues, from prison was I led
And so vnto, the Tower-hill did I come
To suffer death, where soone I lost my head.
The King knew naught, of this till I was dead.
Loe people heere! how things about were brought,
And what disdaine, and mighty malice wrought.
Loe! heere is ende, and sodayne sliding downe,
That was both true, to God and to the Crowne.
As little twigs, ore top of houses grow
Whose braunches big, spredes out a mighty tree:
Or as small brookes, with Seas do swell and flow,
Yet hath no power, to passe their bounds you see,
Or as faire flowers, that in gaie gardens bee
Sprouts out a while, and when they are at height,
They fade and fall, & then declineth streight.
So man doth mount, a while on stages hie,
And at the best, shootes downe like starre from skie.
Whose braunches big, spredes out a mighty tree:
Or as small brookes, with Seas do swell and flow,
43
Or as faire flowers, that in gaie gardens bee
Sprouts out a while, and when they are at height,
They fade and fall, & then declineth streight.
So man doth mount, a while on stages hie,
And at the best, shootes downe like starre from skie.
When thinges are growen, as farre as course is set,
And haue attaynde, the fulnesse of their state:
They backward come, and can no further get,
For cleane expierd yee see is then their date,
The life wee beare, of force must yeeld to fate.
The steppes wee tread, weares out by tract of time,
When ladder breakes, wee can no higher clime.
Where fortune sits, so fast, doth grinde the mill,
The Wheele turnes round, and neuer standeth still.
And haue attaynde, the fulnesse of their state:
They backward come, and can no further get,
For cleane expierd yee see is then their date,
The life wee beare, of force must yeeld to fate.
The steppes wee tread, weares out by tract of time,
When ladder breakes, wee can no higher clime.
Where fortune sits, so fast, doth grinde the mill,
The Wheele turnes round, and neuer standeth still.
Long is the toyle, or man to triumph commes,
Large is the plot, where wee our Pagantes play:
Sweete is the sap; and sowre are all the Plummes,
That payne pluckes off, the pleasaunt planted spray,
Short is the time, of all our glory gay,
Uayne is the hope, of hazards heere in earth,
Great are the griefes, of life from day of birth.
No surety growes, of all is heere possest,
All comes to naught, when people feareth least.
Large is the plot, where wee our Pagantes play:
Sweete is the sap; and sowre are all the Plummes,
That payne pluckes off, the pleasaunt planted spray,
Short is the time, of all our glory gay,
Uayne is the hope, of hazards heere in earth,
Great are the griefes, of life from day of birth.
No surety growes, of all is heere possest,
All comes to naught, when people feareth least.
Loe! what it is, to stand on tickle staies,
Where hatred heaues, the houshoulde out of square:
And when it falls, the ioynte flee seuerall wayes,
And ioyfull wightes, are clad with woe and care,
The seruants howle, the wife and childe is bare.
The friends wring hands, the foes do laugh and flyre,
Such chaunges chaunce, to those that do aspyre.
The ground but gapes, who first shall fall therein,
And who seekes most, at length the least may win.
Where hatred heaues, the houshoulde out of square:
And when it falls, the ioynte flee seuerall wayes,
And ioyfull wightes, are clad with woe and care,
The seruants howle, the wife and childe is bare.
The friends wring hands, the foes do laugh and flyre,
Such chaunges chaunce, to those that do aspyre.
The ground but gapes, who first shall fall therein,
44
Loe! Churchyard now, my mirthlesse tale is tolde,
A mourning verse, prepare thou straight for mee:
And in thy rime, some stately order holde,
For that I sprong, not out of base degree,
Let euery line, a liuely sentence bee,
To wake the wits, of such as world would knowe,
And list to marke, how wordly matters goe.
And when thou comst, to touch the gauled backe,
Leape ore the horse, or vse a riders knacke.
A mourning verse, prepare thou straight for mee:
And in thy rime, some stately order holde,
For that I sprong, not out of base degree,
Let euery line, a liuely sentence bee,
To wake the wits, of such as world would knowe,
And list to marke, how wordly matters goe.
And when thou comst, to touch the gauled backe,
Leape ore the horse, or vse a riders knacke.
Beare euen hand, and holde the bridle right,
Yet whiskt the wande, sometimes for pleasures sake:
Yea spyce thy speach, and tearmes with trifels light,
That lookers on, may not thy mind mistake,
When store is gone, yet doe thy budget shake.
Among the best, and feede their fancies still,
No matter though, a mouse creepe out of hill,
Small toyes may breede, great sporte in great estates,
And in great grounds, men walke through little gates.
Yet whiskt the wande, sometimes for pleasures sake:
Yea spyce thy speach, and tearmes with trifels light,
That lookers on, may not thy mind mistake,
When store is gone, yet doe thy budget shake.
Among the best, and feede their fancies still,
No matter though, a mouse creepe out of hill,
Small toyes may breede, great sporte in great estates,
And in great grounds, men walke through little gates.
Doe wisely warne and warely vse thy pen,
Speake english playne, and roue about the but:
And shoote at will, and flaunt by wicked men,
Shale out the shell, and bid them cracke the Nut,
Shew some delight, and so the sentence shut.
And bid the world, beholde mee in a glasse.
That did to ruine, from Pompe and pleasure passe.
Now I am gone, I wish the rest behinde,
(As they desire,) may better Fortune finde.
Speake english playne, and roue about the but:
And shoote at will, and flaunt by wicked men,
Shale out the shell, and bid them cracke the Nut,
Shew some delight, and so the sentence shut.
And bid the world, beholde mee in a glasse.
That did to ruine, from Pompe and pleasure passe.
Now I am gone, I wish the rest behinde,
(As they desire,) may better Fortune finde.
FINIS.
70
THE MAN IS BUT HIS MINDE
A VVARNING TO THE VVANDERERS abroad, that seekes to sovv dissention at home.
To the Right worshipful my singular good friend, Sir Iohn Skidmoer, one of the Liefetenants of Haruordshire
Mine
eyes they weepe, my heart it bleedes in brest,
My soule doth sob, my body quakes for feare:
My fancies roule, my minde can take no rest,
My sences blush, as sprites amazed were,
My knowledge shrugges, at rumors in myne eare.
My head doth muse, my reason sore doth rewe:
These quarrels old, that rise on brabblings new.
These bold attempts, that Rebells set abroach,
To Gods dislike, and Countries great reproach.
My soule doth sob, my body quakes for feare:
My fancies roule, my minde can take no rest,
My sences blush, as sprites amazed were,
My knowledge shrugges, at rumors in myne eare.
My head doth muse, my reason sore doth rewe:
These quarrels old, that rise on brabblings new.
These bold attempts, that Rebells set abroach,
To Gods dislike, and Countries great reproach.
The rotten seames, that in faire garments are,
Bee not espide, by sodaine view of eye.
The spoyling moath, that eates gay scarlet bare,
In foldes of cloath, full long doth closely lie.
Time is the touch, that trecherous trashe doth trie,
Foule cankred flesh, by Surgeons arte is found,
And heald sometimes, by searching of the wound.
Worlds sicknesse must, with wisdome well be vsde,
That Doctors may, see how was health abusde.
Bee not espide, by sodaine view of eye.
The spoyling moath, that eates gay scarlet bare,
In foldes of cloath, full long doth closely lie.
Time is the touch, that trecherous trashe doth trie,
Foule cankred flesh, by Surgeons arte is found,
71
Worlds sicknesse must, with wisdome well be vsde,
That Doctors may, see how was health abusde.
For taynted fruit, that is not sound at coare,
Smooth skin doth shew, like apple ripe and good:
A playster faire, may hide a filthy soare,
The painted face, sets foorth no perfect blood.
By proofe the best, from worst is vnderstood.
Faire shews but bleares, the iudgement for a while,
And colours can, not knowledge long begile.
Though salt be white, the sugars taste is sweete,
And gall doth bite, when honey comforts spreete.
Smooth skin doth shew, like apple ripe and good:
A playster faire, may hide a filthy soare,
The painted face, sets foorth no perfect blood.
By proofe the best, from worst is vnderstood.
Faire shews but bleares, the iudgement for a while,
And colours can, not knowledge long begile.
Though salt be white, the sugars taste is sweete,
And gall doth bite, when honey comforts spreete.
Most bitter sowre, doth foule Rebellion taste,
It breedes on hate, that heart hath harborde long,
And wicked will, that wisheth woe and waste:
Whose raging mind, delights in open wrong,
Stout stomake first, with snakish stinging tongue
Stirres vp the strife, and blowes the blast abroad:
Then malice comes, and lookes like swelling toad,
And venom casts, where mischiefe may be wrought,
From mother spite, so monster foorth is brought.
It breedes on hate, that heart hath harborde long,
And wicked will, that wisheth woe and waste:
Whose raging mind, delights in open wrong,
Stout stomake first, with snakish stinging tongue
Stirres vp the strife, and blowes the blast abroad:
Then malice comes, and lookes like swelling toad,
And venom casts, where mischiefe may be wrought,
From mother spite, so monster foorth is brought.
Rebellion is, the monster that I meane,
A serpent vile, that liues in stinking denne:
A grieslie ghost, a gracelesse sprite vncleane,
That lurketh close, in shapes of vainest men.
When it is bredde, beholde, what does it then?
It sowes discord, and fostreth vp dislike,
Makes sharpe the sword, that ready is to strike.
Lies listning still, for newes and change of state,
And cares not how it bringeth in debate.
A serpent vile, that liues in stinking denne:
A grieslie ghost, a gracelesse sprite vncleane,
That lurketh close, in shapes of vainest men.
When it is bredde, beholde, what does it then?
It sowes discord, and fostreth vp dislike,
Makes sharpe the sword, that ready is to strike.
Lies listning still, for newes and change of state,
And cares not how it bringeth in debate.
A Turke or Iew, a Pagan or a dog,
A fiend of Hell, or else a sprite of the aire:
A ventrous ladde, that all can set a gog.
A pratling boy, that fawnes and speaks full faire.
When Rebell falles, in rage of rude dispaire.
Rebellion brings: so hee reuenge may take,
The Deuill himselfe, it will a Captaine make.
Rebellion lookes, but how may blood bee shed,
And so vilde mindes, in mischiefe runnes on head.
72
A ventrous ladde, that all can set a gog.
A pratling boy, that fawnes and speaks full faire.
When Rebell falles, in rage of rude dispaire.
Rebellion brings: so hee reuenge may take,
The Deuill himselfe, it will a Captaine make.
Rebellion lookes, but how may blood bee shed,
And so vilde mindes, in mischiefe runnes on head.
Rebellion springes, of too much head and will,
That riot runnes, without rebuke too farre,
In suffring harmes, great wronges are offred still.
On little broyles, beginnes a bloody warre,
The willfull man, doth eyther make or marre:
The harebraine head, a witlesse course holdes on,
Till feare of God, and wordly care be gon:
All hope is past, runne dogge or Deuill than,
No reason serues, to rule the retchlesse man.
That riot runnes, without rebuke too farre,
In suffring harmes, great wronges are offred still.
On little broyles, beginnes a bloody warre,
The willfull man, doth eyther make or marre:
The harebraine head, a witlesse course holdes on,
Till feare of God, and wordly care be gon:
All hope is past, runne dogge or Deuill than,
No reason serues, to rule the retchlesse man.
But what foule shame, brings men to this lewd mind?
What bold abuse is this, that breedes such bale?
What vile deuice, drawes nature out of kind?
What marres good wits? what makes men pull and hale,
To seeke for death and sets their liues to sale?
Ist will alone? fie on that wayward hart,
That for a toy, makes all the bodie smart:
Fie on that tricke, that turnes all out of frame.
Runnes farre a field, and bringes home open shame.
What bold abuse is this, that breedes such bale?
What vile deuice, drawes nature out of kind?
What marres good wits? what makes men pull and hale,
To seeke for death and sets their liues to sale?
Ist will alone? fie on that wayward hart,
That for a toy, makes all the bodie smart:
Fie on that tricke, that turnes all out of frame.
Runnes farre a field, and bringes home open shame.
Wee see so long, as house together standes,
From raine and stormes, both man and wife doe sit,
So long as horse, remaines in riders hands
Hee keepes his pace, and playes vppon the bitte.
So long as men, be rulde by temprate witte
Draw all one yoake, take part as brethren ought:
So long, you know, they neede not take no thought,
But when they iarre, and seuerall waies they goe,
They drawe too farre, and breake true friendships bow.
From raine and stormes, both man and wife doe sit,
So long as horse, remaines in riders hands
Hee keepes his pace, and playes vppon the bitte.
So long as men, be rulde by temprate witte
Draw all one yoake, take part as brethren ought:
73
But when they iarre, and seuerall waies they goe,
They drawe too farre, and breake true friendships bow.
Come home wilde heades, then gad no more abroad,
To breede debate, that workes your Countries wracke,
Lay vp your shippes, and barques in quiet road:
Cast ankor there, where cable cannot cracke,
Runne not to Rhemes, to learne a cumbrous knacke,
That smels of smoake and sauors of discord.
Obay your Prince, and so yee serue the Lord.
To duties bounds, reclaime your selues againe:
Against the streame, who striues doe lose their payne.
To breede debate, that workes your Countries wracke,
Lay vp your shippes, and barques in quiet road:
Cast ankor there, where cable cannot cracke,
Runne not to Rhemes, to learne a cumbrous knacke,
That smels of smoake and sauors of discord.
Obay your Prince, and so yee serue the Lord.
To duties bounds, reclaime your selues againe:
Against the streame, who striues doe lose their payne.
Make Pope your head, the Prince yee do forsake
Obedience bids, a subiect leaue dispute:
Indeede you doe, the scripture cleane mistake,
If that your tree, doe shew no better fruite.
(But bring foorth brawles, and raiseth slaunders brute)
Say what you please, your conscience is not cleane:
Where dutie wants, men doe some mischiefe meane.
And such as speakes, against the Prince, and Law,
Intends no good, but flingeth fire in straw.
Obedience bids, a subiect leaue dispute:
Indeede you doe, the scripture cleane mistake,
If that your tree, doe shew no better fruite.
(But bring foorth brawles, and raiseth slaunders brute)
Say what you please, your conscience is not cleane:
Where dutie wants, men doe some mischiefe meane.
And such as speakes, against the Prince, and Law,
Intends no good, but flingeth fire in straw.
And when house burnes, and flame beginnes to gloe,
Your fingers endes, shall surely singed bee:
You smell on smoake as you the bellowes blowe:
Then put out fire, where rotten wood you see,
Cleare sight cannot, with smothering smoake agree.
Good men are harmde, with wicked bad deuise,
Of naughtie ware, you know full well the price.
Make darke your shoppes, to bleare the buyers eye,
When all is seene, the light each thing shall trie.
Your fingers endes, shall surely singed bee:
You smell on smoake as you the bellowes blowe:
Then put out fire, where rotten wood you see,
Cleare sight cannot, with smothering smoake agree.
Good men are harmde, with wicked bad deuise,
Of naughtie ware, you know full well the price.
Make darke your shoppes, to bleare the buyers eye,
When all is seene, the light each thing shall trie.
If you doe wrong, to Prince and publike state,
Your conscience shall, accuse you in the end:
If legges and feete, beginne the head to hate,
Sicke are the lims, that should the head defend,
The bodie weake, by medson may amend.
Wherefore doe fall, to phisicke for your greefe.
From candle cleare, bee sure yee take the theefe:
For if in snuffe, bee crept a little cole,
Through weeke and all, is worne a curelesse hole.
74
If legges and feete, beginne the head to hate,
Sicke are the lims, that should the head defend,
The bodie weake, by medson may amend.
Wherefore doe fall, to phisicke for your greefe.
From candle cleare, bee sure yee take the theefe:
For if in snuffe, bee crept a little cole,
Through weeke and all, is worne a curelesse hole.
And sothe light, that glad the lookers on,
God wot is spoyld, before his kindely houre:
When oyle, or waxe, or tallow cleane is gone,
The lamp or light, to burne hath little powre:
You would plant weedes, where growes a goodly floure.
Let practise goe, and play a subiects parte:
Playne troath yee knowe, bids fie on cunning arte.
One God, one law, one mind and manner now,
In double world, shews subiects duties throwe.
God wot is spoyld, before his kindely houre:
When oyle, or waxe, or tallow cleane is gone,
The lamp or light, to burne hath little powre:
You would plant weedes, where growes a goodly floure.
Let practise goe, and play a subiects parte:
Playne troath yee knowe, bids fie on cunning arte.
One God, one law, one mind and manner now,
In double world, shews subiects duties throwe.
All other drifts, doe draw the wyer awrie,
And backward bends, the bow that should bee streight:
Come neere no cloudes, the reach is ouer hie.
Liue safely then, no suretie comes by sleight:
Content below, doth hate to climbe on height.
Who knows his owne, hath wealth and wit ynough:
Hee soundly sleepes, that only lookes to plough.
And such as wakes, to ouerlooke this age,
May sing adew, when foote is fast in cage.
And backward bends, the bow that should bee streight:
Come neere no cloudes, the reach is ouer hie.
Liue safely then, no suretie comes by sleight:
Content below, doth hate to climbe on height.
Who knows his owne, hath wealth and wit ynough:
Hee soundly sleepes, that only lookes to plough.
And such as wakes, to ouerlooke this age,
May sing adew, when foote is fast in cage.
O Countrey sweete, perswade obedience heere,
Reforme the fond, and still preserue the wise:
No plot of earth, more precious nor more deere
Than natiue soyle, that for her children cries
And calls for chicks, where kites and puttocks flies,
O Babes well borne, if you will bastards proue
Bid welcome hate, and farewell Countries loue:
And this be sure, my friends goe where you please,
No goodnes growes, by gadding ore the seas.
Reforme the fond, and still preserue the wise:
No plot of earth, more precious nor more deere
Than natiue soyle, that for her children cries
And calls for chicks, where kites and puttocks flies,
O Babes well borne, if you will bastards proue
75
And this be sure, my friends goe where you please,
No goodnes growes, by gadding ore the seas.
Note where you tooke, both breath, warme blood and life,
Your parents care, and Countries right do waie:
Regarde what broyles, and brawles beginne on strife,
Marke how stout hartes, stand all on tickle staie:
And birdes of th' aire, your follie doe bewraie,
And marke how God, hath opened all your drifts,
And in your pride, hath put you to your shifts.
And chiefely note, how God and man doth knowe,
For want of grace, wilde heades a gadding goe.
Your parents care, and Countries right do waie:
Regarde what broyles, and brawles beginne on strife,
Marke how stout hartes, stand all on tickle staie:
And birdes of th' aire, your follie doe bewraie,
And marke how God, hath opened all your drifts,
And in your pride, hath put you to your shifts.
And chiefely note, how God and man doth knowe,
For want of grace, wilde heades a gadding goe.
Religion Lord, perhaps shall bee your shield,
Nay there a straw, you meane an other thing:
You are so great, you would faine march in fielde,
That world should iudge, you feathers of one wing.
So busie birdes, together all would sing.
Well waking Cockes, yee crow for daie too soone:
Yee neither looke, on starres, ne sunne, nor moone,
But clapping wings, yee thrust out necke and throat,
And cares not who, doth heare your midnight noate.
Nay there a straw, you meane an other thing:
You are so great, you would faine march in fielde,
That world should iudge, you feathers of one wing.
So busie birdes, together all would sing.
Well waking Cockes, yee crow for daie too soone:
Yee neither looke, on starres, ne sunne, nor moone,
But clapping wings, yee thrust out necke and throat,
And cares not who, doth heare your midnight noate.
That sounds not right, of no Religion sure.
Rebellion is, the string you play vppon:
O God forbid, that hauke forsooke the lure
To feede on frog, that sits one euery stone.
I say not much, would God abuse were gone,
Rebellion dead, and all her branches bare,
Faythlesse were fled, and Countrey voyd of care,
But since strange toyes, breeds humming Bees in braine.
I meane to touch, rebellion once againe.
Rebellion is, the string you play vppon:
O God forbid, that hauke forsooke the lure
To feede on frog, that sits one euery stone.
I say not much, would God abuse were gone,
Rebellion dead, and all her branches bare,
Faythlesse were fled, and Countrey voyd of care,
But since strange toyes, breeds humming Bees in braine.
I meane to touch, rebellion once againe.
When mother spight, to world this monster brings.
A naughtie nourse, vile nature then prepares:
Who cradle rockes and lullabie she singes,
Till retchlesse sence, be brought a sleepe vnwares,
Then as in corne, do creepe wild weeds and tares:
So cockle seede, in common wealth is sowne,
Whereby good graine, is quicklie ouergrowne.
The cause thereof, is cunning craftie wittes,
That still workes woe, and neuer idle sits.
76
Who cradle rockes and lullabie she singes,
Till retchlesse sence, be brought a sleepe vnwares,
Then as in corne, do creepe wild weeds and tares:
So cockle seede, in common wealth is sowne,
Whereby good graine, is quicklie ouergrowne.
The cause thereof, is cunning craftie wittes,
That still workes woe, and neuer idle sits.
O wretched rage, that riues and rents a Realme
In peeces small, and gaines nothing thereby:
O labour lost, that striues with flood and streame,
And dayly hopes, to drinke great riuers drie,
O cruell plague that, doe for vengeaunce crie.
O priue hate, that open mischiefe breedes,
O shameles sleight, that honest people dreedes:
Accurst I hold, rebellion is of kinde,
That neuer dies, but liues in cankred minde.
In peeces small, and gaines nothing thereby:
O labour lost, that striues with flood and streame,
And dayly hopes, to drinke great riuers drie,
O cruell plague that, doe for vengeaunce crie.
O priue hate, that open mischiefe breedes,
O shameles sleight, that honest people dreedes:
Accurst I hold, rebellion is of kinde,
That neuer dies, but liues in cankred minde.
The Countries weale, and Princes honor both
It cleane forgets, and spoyle and hauocke cries,
Takes no regard, to dutie, faith, or oath,
But claps on wood, where fire and flame may rise,
Tels tatling tales, shewes furious angry eies,
Makes brags and boast that all shall lie in dust,
And hath no hope, but treason is his trust:
The wife, the child, the friend and neighbour toe
Rebellion hates, for hee will mischiefe doe.
It cleane forgets, and spoyle and hauocke cries,
Takes no regard, to dutie, faith, or oath,
But claps on wood, where fire and flame may rise,
Tels tatling tales, shewes furious angry eies,
Makes brags and boast that all shall lie in dust,
And hath no hope, but treason is his trust:
The wife, the child, the friend and neighbour toe
Rebellion hates, for hee will mischiefe doe.
It findeth fault, with peace and ciuill Lawes.
Abhors good men, and such as gouernes well:
Takes toy in head, bolts out when is no cause,
Frames deuilish drifts, to make this world a hell:
And at the length, would King and Countery sell
To wreak his wrath, O vile reuenge most vaine,
When all is lost, what doth rebellion gaine?
Ioyes it to see, the wracke of natiue land?
Such fowle offence, is whipt with his owne wand.
Abhors good men, and such as gouernes well:
Takes toy in head, bolts out when is no cause,
Frames deuilish drifts, to make this world a hell:
And at the length, would King and Countery sell
To wreak his wrath, O vile reuenge most vaine,
77
Ioyes it to see, the wracke of natiue land?
Such fowle offence, is whipt with his owne wand.
Their goodes, their rent, their honour and their liues,
Shall vnder foote, be troden euery day:
Their kinde deflourde, their children and their wiues
Made captiue slaues, in bondage many a way.
And when the land, is made a straungers pray,
Like Israelites, poore Iacobs house shall mourne,
Drawe in the yoke, and see their houses burne.
Beare burthens still, and bend their backs to toile:
While enemies laugh, and triumphs of the spoile.
Shall vnder foote, be troden euery day:
Their kinde deflourde, their children and their wiues
Made captiue slaues, in bondage many a way.
And when the land, is made a straungers pray,
Like Israelites, poore Iacobs house shall mourne,
Drawe in the yoke, and see their houses burne.
Beare burthens still, and bend their backs to toile:
While enemies laugh, and triumphs of the spoile.
What can procure, a man to sell his life,
Forsake his Prince, become a seruile slaue:
What cause can be, in state to stir a strife?
What ioy or blisse, by thraldome can we haue?
When men are well, what deuill would they craue?
What makes men mad? why dote they in this age?
To forraine foes, to run in such a rage.
Their language sure, I trowe is not so fine:
Their loue is grosse, and tastes like troubled wine.
Forsake his Prince, become a seruile slaue:
What cause can be, in state to stir a strife?
What ioy or blisse, by thraldome can we haue?
When men are well, what deuill would they craue?
What makes men mad? why dote they in this age?
To forraine foes, to run in such a rage.
Their language sure, I trowe is not so fine:
Their loue is grosse, and tastes like troubled wine.
Want thou but gilt, where they are maisters still,
There shalt thou starue, for all their goodly showes,
With mockes and skornes, and many another ill:
Poore [illeg.] stands, among a many of Crowes.
The wandring wight, that long a gadding goes,
Comes home at last (by beggars weeping crosse)
Like rowling stone, that neuer gathers mosse,
A straunger doth, but stare in trauailers face,
And smiles in sleeue, at silly soules disgrace.
There shalt thou starue, for all their goodly showes,
With mockes and skornes, and many another ill:
Poore [illeg.] stands, among a many of Crowes.
The wandring wight, that long a gadding goes,
Comes home at last (by beggars weeping crosse)
Like rowling stone, that neuer gathers mosse,
A straunger doth, but stare in trauailers face,
And smiles in sleeue, at silly soules disgrace.
Rebellion likes, the man he neuer saw,
If blouddy wars, vpon that league may linke:
As to the sicke, doth euill humors draw,
And from fowle pits, comes smoake and noisome stinke,
So filthy flouds, flow from rebellious brinke,
A troubled streame, of puddle mixt with mire.
Doth quench the thirst, of rebels hote desire.
The water cleare, but skalds a rebels breast:
For cruell rage, and ryot takes no rest.
78
As to the sicke, doth euill humors draw,
And from fowle pits, comes smoake and noisome stinke,
So filthy flouds, flow from rebellious brinke,
A troubled streame, of puddle mixt with mire.
Doth quench the thirst, of rebels hote desire.
The water cleare, but skalds a rebels breast:
For cruell rage, and ryot takes no rest.
It runnes with hare, and hunts with blouddy hound,
It stands with strong, and leaues the weake at worst:
In common wealth, it makes a mortall wound,
It brags to fight, and yet retireth forst:
It is a plague, that God himselfe hath curst,
For it deuides, in little peeces small,
Both Kingdomes great, and mighty monarkes all:
Dissention workes, to sowe but Sathans seedes,
And pluckes vp flowres, and plants in stinking weedes.
It stands with strong, and leaues the weake at worst:
In common wealth, it makes a mortall wound,
It brags to fight, and yet retireth forst:
It is a plague, that God himselfe hath curst,
For it deuides, in little peeces small,
Both Kingdomes great, and mighty monarkes all:
Dissention workes, to sowe but Sathans seedes,
And pluckes vp flowres, and plants in stinking weedes.
It creepes in hoales, and corners close by ribs,
Prouides for friends, to band it out for neede:
It bankets still, and freely quafs and bibs,
And with lewd words, their wicked humor feedes.
Prates much of Prince, makes boast of doughty deedes.
When feeble hearts, lies quaking in their hose,
Much like bold Cocks, that lowd on midding crowes.
But yet cries creake, when that in sharpe they come:
For rebels can, not bide the sound of Drome.
Prouides for friends, to band it out for neede:
It bankets still, and freely quafs and bibs,
And with lewd words, their wicked humor feedes.
Prates much of Prince, makes boast of doughty deedes.
When feeble hearts, lies quaking in their hose,
Much like bold Cocks, that lowd on midding crowes.
But yet cries creake, when that in sharpe they come:
For rebels can, not bide the sound of Drome.
At May Powl mirth, or at some mariage feast,
Or in a faire, where people swarme like Bees:
These stinging wasps, but new come out of neast.
Doe flie for life, and so together grees,
Like little mites, or maggots in a cheese.
The humming then, that these wood wasps doe make.
Doth seeme at first, as it would mountaines shake:
But out alas, those lawlesse loytring soules,
Are hid in hast, or crept in Conny holes.
Or in a faire, where people swarme like Bees:
These stinging wasps, but new come out of neast.
Doe flie for life, and so together grees,
Like little mites, or maggots in a cheese.
The humming then, that these wood wasps doe make.
79
But out alas, those lawlesse loytring soules,
Are hid in hast, or crept in Conny holes.
The priuy theefe, that steales away our wealth,
Is sore afraide, a true mans steps to see:
The fearefull wight, that doth misdoubt his health,
Will blushe to come, where that sound people be.
The faithfull stands, the faulty man will flee:
The rebell shrinks, where rule and order swaies.
Troth bides the brunt, the Traitor runs his waies:
Bold practise quakes, when power supplants his pride,
Where biles breaks out, there is rebellion spide.
Is sore afraide, a true mans steps to see:
The fearefull wight, that doth misdoubt his health,
Will blushe to come, where that sound people be.
The faithfull stands, the faulty man will flee:
The rebell shrinks, where rule and order swaies.
Troth bides the brunt, the Traitor runs his waies:
Bold practise quakes, when power supplants his pride,
Where biles breaks out, there is rebellion spide.
Among good Ewes, beware of scabbed sheepe,
The Wolfe with Lambe, may not be matcht aright:
The slocke is spoilde, where Fox the Geese doth keepe.
The sicke with sound, is sure no comely sight.
What needes more tearmes, who dares not bide the light?
In darkenesse dwels, a blinde rebellious minde,
Is more corrupt, then any thing we finde.
Then either heale, the member that doth smell,
Or cut him of, before he further swell.
The Wolfe with Lambe, may not be matcht aright:
The slocke is spoilde, where Fox the Geese doth keepe.
The sicke with sound, is sure no comely sight.
What needes more tearmes, who dares not bide the light?
In darkenesse dwels, a blinde rebellious minde,
Is more corrupt, then any thing we finde.
Then either heale, the member that doth smell,
Or cut him of, before he further swell.
But farre more fit, that flesh should be reformde,
And sau'de from harme, that else corrupt would grow:
The itching hand, of force must needes be wormde,
Least skinne waxe rough, and pimples rise, ye know.
If knife pare well, a corne vppon the toe.
The foote is easde, and man shall march vpright.
Take slime from eies, the blinde receiues his sight:
So cleansing cleane, each part and member well:
The state of man, in safety long shall dwell,
And sau'de from harme, that else corrupt would grow:
The itching hand, of force must needes be wormde,
Least skinne waxe rough, and pimples rise, ye know.
If knife pare well, a corne vppon the toe.
The foote is easde, and man shall march vpright.
Take slime from eies, the blinde receiues his sight:
So cleansing cleane, each part and member well:
The state of man, in safety long shall dwell,
So all thinges meant, that here doth passe the pen,
Woundes to be heald, and searched as they ought:
All to be done, for health and wealth of men,
And nought amisse, in word, in deede nor thought:
Yea when my verse, so great a worke hath wrought,
To linke in loue, good subiects all in one.
To stand as firme, as rocke or marble stone,
Then shall my mouth, my muse, my pen and all,
Be prest to serue, at each good subiects call.
80
All to be done, for health and wealth of men,
And nought amisse, in word, in deede nor thought:
Yea when my verse, so great a worke hath wrought,
To linke in loue, good subiects all in one.
To stand as firme, as rocke or marble stone,
Then shall my mouth, my muse, my pen and all,
Be prest to serue, at each good subiects call.
FINIS.
81
THE HONOR OF A Souldier.
A Discourse of Gentlemen lying in London, that were better keepe house at home in their Countrey
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL
Sir George Carew, Knight, Lieutenant of the Ordinance
Thomas Churchyard wisheth worldly felicity, and heauenly blessedness.
110
I muse
why youth, or age of gentle blood,
Borne vnto wealth, and worldly worship heere:
In London long, consumes both land and good,
That better were, at home to make good cheere.
In London still, they finde all vittells deere,
Hoist vp a height, to bring our purses low,
And send men home with empty bags yee know.
Borne vnto wealth, and worldly worship heere:
In London long, consumes both land and good,
That better were, at home to make good cheere.
In London still, they finde all vittells deere,
Hoist vp a height, to bring our purses low,
And send men home with empty bags yee know.
The streetes with fields, may neuer matched be,
For all sweete aire, at will abroad we finde:
What is it then, in London that they see.
But Countrey yeeldes, and better glads the minde.
Perhaps some say, the people are so kinde:
And curteous to, in stately ciuill Towne.
As men thereby, wins credite and renowne.
For all sweete aire, at will abroad we finde:
What is it then, in London that they see.
But Countrey yeeldes, and better glads the minde.
Perhaps some say, the people are so kinde:
And curteous to, in stately ciuill Towne.
As men thereby, wins credite and renowne.
111
First for they seeme, in Citty fresh and fine,
Most gay to eie, and gallant as a rose:
But shall a man, for pleasure of his eien.
And pompe or pride, of painted goodly cloes,
He sees abroad, at home his credite lose.
Our Elders did, not so delight in trashe,
And tempting toyes, that brings a man in lash.
Most gay to eie, and gallant as a rose:
But shall a man, for pleasure of his eien.
And pompe or pride, of painted goodly cloes,
He sees abroad, at home his credite lose.
Our Elders did, not so delight in trashe,
And tempting toyes, that brings a man in lash.
For when they came, to London there to stay,
They sent fat beeues, before them for their store:
And went sometimes, a shooting all the way.
With all their traine, and houshold that is more:
Yet were they not, at no lesse charge therefore:
Kept house in Ins, and fedde the poore thereby.
That in hard world, may now for hunger die.
They sent fat beeues, before them for their store:
And went sometimes, a shooting all the way.
With all their traine, and houshold that is more:
Yet were they not, at no lesse charge therefore:
Kept house in Ins, and fedde the poore thereby.
That in hard world, may now for hunger die.
They taried not, in Towne to card and dice,
Nor follow long, lewd lusts that lothsome are:
Which breedes rebuke, and fosters secrete vice.
And makes tame birds, to fall in Satans snare,
They loude plaine robes, but hated purses bare,
Made much of men, gaue neighbors beefe and bred,
Yet left their aires, great wealth now they are dead.
Nor follow long, lewd lusts that lothsome are:
Which breedes rebuke, and fosters secrete vice.
And makes tame birds, to fall in Satans snare,
They loude plaine robes, but hated purses bare,
Made much of men, gaue neighbors beefe and bred,
Yet left their aires, great wealth now they are dead.
Their care was still, to keepe good house and name,
Spend they might spare, yet spare where cause they found,
And librall be, when bounty purchast fame.
And let floud runne, where water did abound.
Rulde all with wit, and wary Iudgement sound,
Not bent in braues, great hauocke for to make.
But drawne and moude, to spend for vertues sake.
Spend they might spare, yet spare where cause they found,
And librall be, when bounty purchast fame.
And let floud runne, where water did abound.
Rulde all with wit, and wary Iudgement sound,
Not bent in braues, great hauocke for to make.
But drawne and moude, to spend for vertues sake.
Gaue much to poore, that craude an almes at gate,
Kept buttry dore, for straungers open still:
Made neighbours eate, that earely came or late.
By which they wonne, the Countreys great good will,
Could serue the Prince, with coundit men and skill:
With their owne charge, and pors a rare thing now,
That seelde is seene, with loue and power throw.
Kept buttry dore, for straungers open still:
Made neighbours eate, that earely came or late.
112
Could serue the Prince, with coundit men and skill:
With their owne charge, and pors a rare thing now,
That seelde is seene, with loue and power throw.
They raisd no rents, to make the tenant whine,
Nor clapt no yoke, on friendly neighbours necke:
Nor made poore folke, find fault with cut throat fine.
But had the hearts, of people at a becke,
As we haue now, our seruants vnder checke.
O how plaine men, would follow Landlord than.
Like swarmes of Bees, when any warres began.
Nor clapt no yoke, on friendly neighbours necke:
Nor made poore folke, find fault with cut throat fine.
But had the hearts, of people at a becke,
As we haue now, our seruants vnder checke.
O how plaine men, would follow Landlord than.
Like swarmes of Bees, when any warres began.
Yea glad was he, that might with maister goe,
Though charge and wife, be left at home behinde,
In this fine world, the manner is not so.
Hard handling makes, men shew another minde,
Then loyall loue, made mens affection blinde.
Now can they see, and will doe what they list.
Cast of like Hawkes, comes when they please to fist.
Though charge and wife, be left at home behinde,
In this fine world, the manner is not so.
Hard handling makes, men shew another minde,
Then loyall loue, made mens affection blinde.
Now can they see, and will doe what they list.
Cast of like Hawkes, comes when they please to fist.
What change finde you, yong maisters in these daies,
What hath drawn backe, the forward minds of men:
What makes somtime, prest souldier run his waies.
What makes this world, much worse then world was then.
I dare not now, expresse the cause with pen.
But lay your hands, vppon your brest and winke.
And you shall gesse, what of these thinges I thinke.
What hath drawn backe, the forward minds of men:
What makes somtime, prest souldier run his waies.
What makes this world, much worse then world was then.
I dare not now, expresse the cause with pen.
But lay your hands, vppon your brest and winke.
And you shall gesse, what of these thinges I thinke.
Gay golden robes, and garments pownced out,
Silke laide on silke, and stitched ore the same:
Great losse and play, and keeping reuell route,
With grosser knackes, I list not now to name.
Hath by abuse, brought world cleane out of frame.
And made them rich, and prowd, that borne were bare.
Yet liues by lust, and sale of paltry ware.
Silke laide on silke, and stitched ore the same:
Great losse and play, and keeping reuell route,
With grosser knackes, I list not now to name.
Hath by abuse, brought world cleane out of frame.
And made them rich, and prowd, that borne were bare.
113
Our fathers wore, good frees to keepe them warme,
And kendall greene, in sommer for a show:
Might better to, take trifles for a farme.
Then these that now, in silkes and veluets goe,
The former age, made tenants duety know:
To Landlords all, and so their cates they sold,
As much for loue, as now they sell for golde.
And kendall greene, in sommer for a show:
Might better to, take trifles for a farme.
Then these that now, in silkes and veluets goe,
The former age, made tenants duety know:
To Landlords all, and so their cates they sold,
As much for loue, as now they sell for golde.
Now is the case and custome altered cleane,
The tenant he, in deede will part from nought:
For landlords weale, nor lose by him a beane,
Nor sell him thing, that is not dearely bought,
At tenants hand, what euer may be sought,
Beares double price, as though the farmer might,
Liue on himselfe, and set his Landlord light.
The tenant he, in deede will part from nought:
For landlords weale, nor lose by him a beane,
Nor sell him thing, that is not dearely bought,
At tenants hand, what euer may be sought,
Beares double price, as though the farmer might,
Liue on himselfe, and set his Landlord light.
This breedes contempt, in vassall past all cry,
And makes the Lord, racke vp his rents a height:
And take great fines, you see wherefore and why.
And lode the backes of Farmers with great weight.
This makes wise men, vse many a craft and sleight.
To punish churles, and pinch them neere the bone,
That doth small good, yet all would haue alone.
And makes the Lord, racke vp his rents a height:
And take great fines, you see wherefore and why.
And lode the backes of Farmers with great weight.
This makes wise men, vse many a craft and sleight.
To punish churles, and pinch them neere the bone,
That doth small good, yet all would haue alone.
Why plead they want, where plenty is great store,
And God hath blest, the earth with fruite and graine:
They say because, they charged are so sore.
To pay such rent, and take such toile and paine.
Well well there doth, a fault in both remaine.
The one will not, let nought in market fall,
The other still, in London spendeth all.
And God hath blest, the earth with fruite and graine:
They say because, they charged are so sore.
To pay such rent, and take such toile and paine.
Well well there doth, a fault in both remaine.
The one will not, let nought in market fall,
The other still, in London spendeth all.
Like one that flings, more water in the seas,
Or casts away, his gold where it is lost:
The Gentleman, is seldome well at ease.
Till that he ride, to London all in post.
And vp and downe, the dice and cards be tost.
When he a while, about the streets doth rome,
He borrowes pence, at length to bring him home.
114
The Gentleman, is seldome well at ease.
Till that he ride, to London all in post.
And vp and downe, the dice and cards be tost.
When he a while, about the streets doth rome,
He borrowes pence, at length to bring him home.
O saieth the boy, or girle that keepes the barre,
This man is free, and francke where ere he goes,
And spends as much, as doth a man of warre,
That comes from spoile, and conquest of his foes,
Cries fill the pot, the ebbing water flowes.
The chencks are here, we haue inough to spend,
Set all agog, vntill bad world amend.
This man is free, and francke where ere he goes,
And spends as much, as doth a man of warre,
That comes from spoile, and conquest of his foes,
Cries fill the pot, the ebbing water flowes.
The chencks are here, we haue inough to spend,
Set all agog, vntill bad world amend.
O Lord how soone, a man is ore his shooes,
That wades and steps, in streame or water deepe:
How soone from towne, in countrey we haue newes,
That some spends all, for they can nothing keepe,
If such lads were, at home in bed a sleepe.
Twere better sure, then lie in London thus,
Uppon the score, or like banckrouts iwus.
That wades and steps, in streame or water deepe:
How soone from towne, in countrey we haue newes,
That some spends all, for they can nothing keepe,
If such lads were, at home in bed a sleepe.
Twere better sure, then lie in London thus,
Uppon the score, or like banckrouts iwus.
Fine shops and sights, fine dames and houses gay,
Fine wares fine words, fine sorts of meat is there,
Yea all is fine, and nothing grosse they say.
Fine knaks costs much, costs spoils vs euery where
Spoile is a worme, that wealth away will weare,
A cancker crept, in Court for some mens crosse,
That eates vp lands, and breeds great lacke and losse.
Fine wares fine words, fine sorts of meat is there,
Yea all is fine, and nothing grosse they say.
Fine knaks costs much, costs spoils vs euery where
Spoile is a worme, that wealth away will weare,
A cancker crept, in Court for some mens crosse,
That eates vp lands, and breeds great lacke and losse.
Expense and spoile, waits hard on braueries heeles,
With daily debt, and daunger of disgrace:
A crue of Dickes, as world went all on wheeles,
With swashing Tom, and goodman Maple face,
In sundry cloakes, and thred bare liueries bace,
That neuer ware, ne badge, nor signe of thrift.
But certaine signes and showes they liue by shift.
With daily debt, and daunger of disgrace:
A crue of Dickes, as world went all on wheeles,
With swashing Tom, and goodman Maple face,
115
That neuer ware, ne badge, nor signe of thrift.
But certaine signes and showes they liue by shift.
And in the necke, of al this retchles band,
Comes thought and care, in sad and mourning weeds,
And sore forethinkes, that he hath sold his land.
Or laide to gage, good leases and old deedes.
No better fruite, we reape of ill sowne seedes,
But heauy sighes, or pricking thistels bare,
That doth destroy, good ground where ere they are.
Comes thought and care, in sad and mourning weeds,
And sore forethinkes, that he hath sold his land.
Or laide to gage, good leases and old deedes.
No better fruite, we reape of ill sowne seedes,
But heauy sighes, or pricking thistels bare,
That doth destroy, good ground where ere they are.
Spoile brings home plagues, to wife & children both,
When husband hath, at play set vp his rest:
Then wife and babes, at home a hungry goeth,
(Thrice euery weeke) where seld good meat is drest.
With rusty broach, the houshold all are blest.
For potched egs, in good howre be it spoke:
Must for a shift, make kitchin chimney smoke.
When husband hath, at play set vp his rest:
Then wife and babes, at home a hungry goeth,
(Thrice euery weeke) where seld good meat is drest.
With rusty broach, the houshold all are blest.
For potched egs, in good howre be it spoke:
Must for a shift, make kitchin chimney smoke.
A fine deuise, to keepe poore kaett in health,
A pretty toy, to mocke an Ape withall:
No matter much, though wife hath little wealth.
Shee hath for neede, a messe of creame at call,
A trim young boy, to tosse and tirle the ball,
A [illeg.], and pretty pus or catte,
And at a pinch, a great deale more then that,
A pretty toy, to mocke an Ape withall:
No matter much, though wife hath little wealth.
Shee hath for neede, a messe of creame at call,
A trim young boy, to tosse and tirle the ball,
A [illeg.], and pretty pus or catte,
And at a pinch, a great deale more then that,
Gay gownes and geare, God wot good store inough,
And faire milke maids, as dainty as a Doe,
That fares as well, as hob that holds the plough,
Yea cheere in bowles, they haue sometime ye know:
Sweete whay and cruds, a bancket for a Croe,
Such rule shee keepes, when husband is farre of,
Whiles children weeps, that feeds on hard browne lofe.
And faire milke maids, as dainty as a Doe,
That fares as well, as hob that holds the plough,
Yea cheere in bowles, they haue sometime ye know:
Sweete whay and cruds, a bancket for a Croe,
Such rule shee keepes, when husband is farre of,
Whiles children weeps, that feeds on hard browne lofe.
116
Thinke you these things, nips not the pye crost neere,
And rubs the gaule, that neuer will be whole:
The maister may, keepe reuell all the yeere,
And leaue the wife, at home like silly soule
What recke of that, who lists may blow the cole,
Though some doe starue, and pine away with want.
Young lusty lads, abroad liues all aflant.
And rubs the gaule, that neuer will be whole:
The maister may, keepe reuell all the yeere,
And leaue the wife, at home like silly soule
What recke of that, who lists may blow the cole,
Though some doe starue, and pine away with want.
Young lusty lads, abroad liues all aflant.
Some come to Court, to breake vp house at home,
Such keepes a cloake, vntill a rainy day:
Some weaues their yarne, and cloth in other loeme.
At tabling house, where they may freely play:
Some walk to Pauls, wher some maks many a fray
The greatest summe, are sworne to spend and spoile,
And royot runne, at large in euery soile.
Such keepes a cloake, vntill a rainy day:
Some weaues their yarne, and cloth in other loeme.
At tabling house, where they may freely play:
Some walk to Pauls, wher some maks many a fray
The greatest summe, are sworne to spend and spoile,
And royot runne, at large in euery soile.
Great cheere is turnd, at home to empty dishe,
Great bounty lookes, like bare foote beggers bag,
Great hardnes brings, to boord ne flesh nor fishe,
Great hast to giue, comes limping lame and lag.
Great shew men make, of house but thats a brag.
For if ten daies, at home they keepe great fare,
Three months abroad, for that they absent are.
Great bounty lookes, like bare foote beggers bag,
Great hardnes brings, to boord ne flesh nor fishe,
Great hast to giue, comes limping lame and lag.
Great shew men make, of house but thats a brag.
For if ten daies, at home they keepe great fare,
Three months abroad, for that they absent are.
England was cald, a librall countrey rich,
That tooke great ioy, in spending beefe and bred:
In deede this day, the countrey spendeth mich,
But that expense, stands poore in little sted:
For they finde nought, where hounds and hawks are fed,
But hard colde posts, to leane at in great lacke:
Who wants both foode, and clouts to cloth their backe.
That tooke great ioy, in spending beefe and bred:
In deede this day, the countrey spendeth mich,
But that expense, stands poore in little sted:
For they finde nought, where hounds and hawks are fed,
But hard colde posts, to leane at in great lacke:
Who wants both foode, and clouts to cloth their backe.
Almes deedes are dead, and conscience waxeth cold,
World scrats and scrapes, pluckes flesh and fell from bone,
What cunning heads, and hands can catch in hold,
That couetous mindes, doth seeke to weld alone,
The poore complaynes, and makes a greeuous mone.
The ritch heares all, and keepes all safe in fist,
As all were his, to spend it as he list.
World scrats and scrapes, pluckes flesh and fell from bone,
What cunning heads, and hands can catch in hold,
117
The poore complaynes, and makes a greeuous mone.
The ritch heares all, and keepes all safe in fist,
As all were his, to spend it as he list.
Well spend on still, a reckning must bee made,
When hee doth call, that sendes you all the store:
You will be taught, to vse another trade,
Or in the end, full dearly paie therefore
I wish you well, you can desire no more.
Waie all my wordes, as you haue reason still,
I find no fault, but speakes this of good will.
When hee doth call, that sendes you all the store:
You will be taught, to vse another trade,
Or in the end, full dearly paie therefore
I wish you well, you can desire no more.
Waie all my wordes, as you haue reason still,
I find no fault, but speakes this of good will.
And you deare friend, that in Rocksauage dwell,
For whom I haue, these verses heere set down:
To you no peece, of this Discourse I tell,
For you lie not, at charge so long in towne,
As others doe, that are of like renowne.
Your house at home, you hold in better sort,
Then thousands doe, the world doth so report.
For whom I haue, these verses heere set down:
To you no peece, of this Discourse I tell,
For you lie not, at charge so long in towne,
As others doe, that are of like renowne.
Your house at home, you hold in better sort,
Then thousands doe, the world doth so report.
FINIS.
118
A Discourse of an old Souldiour and a young.
To the right Worshipfull Sir Henry Kneuet Knight,
one of the Lieutenants of Willshire.
There
is a strife, a sweete dispute I troe,
Betwene two sortes, of men in these our daies:
On which debate, doth many reasons grow,
That soundes in deede, to each good Souldiours praise,
Whose fame my pen is ready for to raise.
But my intent is first with flat plaine truth,
To treat a verse, or two of age and youth.
Betwene two sortes, of men in these our daies:
On which debate, doth many reasons grow,
That soundes in deede, to each good Souldiours praise,
Whose fame my pen is ready for to raise.
But my intent is first with flat plaine truth,
To treat a verse, or two of age and youth.
119
Age is the sire, and father of great thinges,
That hath begot, both science, rule, and wit:
Brought great renowne, and honour vnto kinges,
And for mans wealth, may well in councell sit.
Youth is for field, and towne a member fit,
To vse the sword, in Countreys cause and right,
In whose defence, youth hath great force to fight.
That hath begot, both science, rule, and wit:
Brought great renowne, and honour vnto kinges,
And for mans wealth, may well in councell sit.
Youth is for field, and towne a member fit,
To vse the sword, in Countreys cause and right,
In whose defence, youth hath great force to fight.
Age may commaund, because it knoweth most,
And best can iudge, of euery thing it knowes:
Hath mightie mind, yet makes but little bost,
On whose aduice, men may their liues repose,
The worth of youth, standes oft in outward shewes,
That fresh and gay, to worlde it seemeth still,
Like bladder faire, that is blowne vp with quill.
And best can iudge, of euery thing it knowes:
Hath mightie mind, yet makes but little bost,
On whose aduice, men may their liues repose,
The worth of youth, standes oft in outward shewes,
That fresh and gay, to worlde it seemeth still,
Like bladder faire, that is blowne vp with quill.
Age lookes like tree, whose barke is rough without,
When winters waste hath made greene leaues to fall:
But when spring comes, that braunch should bud and sprout,
With threefold fruite, the sprayes are loaded all,
Bare youth lookes like, a picture on a wall,
That stands both mute, and dumme like shadow weake,
To seeke for sence, whom age beginnes to speake.
When winters waste hath made greene leaues to fall:
But when spring comes, that braunch should bud and sprout,
With threefold fruite, the sprayes are loaded all,
Bare youth lookes like, a picture on a wall,
That stands both mute, and dumme like shadow weake,
To seeke for sence, whom age beginnes to speake.
The brute in world, is how old thinges decreace,
For that sweete sap, at length forsakes the tree:
Yet men will aske, old wittes in warres or peace,
Of this or that, what the successe shall be.
In outward shewes, young iudgements well can see,
When old mens sightes, that wisely lookes within,
The end beholdes, as soone as they beginne.
For that sweete sap, at length forsakes the tree:
Yet men will aske, old wittes in warres or peace,
Of this or that, what the successe shall be.
In outward shewes, young iudgements well can see,
When old mens sightes, that wisely lookes within,
The end beholdes, as soone as they beginne.
A great old Oake, long time will akornes beare,
And small young graffes, are long in sprouting out:
Some say old wine, is liked euery where,
And all men knowe, new ale is full of growt.
Old horse goes well, young titts are much to doubt,
But sure old gold, is more esteemed than new,
No hauke compares, with haggard in the mue.
And small young graffes, are long in sprouting out:
Some say old wine, is liked euery where,
120
Old horse goes well, young titts are much to doubt,
But sure old gold, is more esteemed than new,
No hauke compares, with haggard in the mue.
Old men knowes much, though young men calls them fooles,
Old bookes are best, for there great learning is:
Old authors too, are dayly read in schooles,
New Sects are naught, olde knowledge cannot misse.
Old guise was good, and nothing like to this.
Where fraude, and craft, and finesse all would haue,
And plainest men, can neyther powle nor shaue.
Old bookes are best, for there great learning is:
Old authors too, are dayly read in schooles,
New Sects are naught, olde knowledge cannot misse.
Old guise was good, and nothing like to this.
Where fraude, and craft, and finesse all would haue,
And plainest men, can neyther powle nor shaue.
Old Fathers builte, faire Colleges good store,
And gaue great goodes, and landes to bring vp youth:
Young men loues not, to make of little more,
But spendes away, their thrift to tell the trueth.
Old men were full, of mercie, grace, and rueth,
And pittie tooke, on those that seemde to lacke,
Young gallants gay, from poore doe turne their backe.
And gaue great goodes, and landes to bring vp youth:
Young men loues not, to make of little more,
But spendes away, their thrift to tell the trueth.
Old men were full, of mercie, grace, and rueth,
And pittie tooke, on those that seemde to lacke,
Young gallants gay, from poore doe turne their backe.
Old beaten wayes, are ready still to hit,
These new be-pathes, leades men on many stiles:
An old prouerbye, hath no more wordes than wit,
New fangled heades, at each old order smiles.
Old wisedome farre, surmountes young fondlings willes.
Experience is, the Doctor euerie daie,
That carries close, all knowledge cleane awaie.
These new be-pathes, leades men on many stiles:
An old prouerbye, hath no more wordes than wit,
New fangled heades, at each old order smiles.
Old wisedome farre, surmountes young fondlings willes.
Experience is, the Doctor euerie daie,
That carries close, all knowledge cleane awaie.
Young houndes are fleete, the old huntes sloe and true,
Old dogges bite sore, if all their teeth be sound:
Old auncient freindes, are better than the new,
In younglings loue, there is small suretie found,
For like a top, light fancie turneth round.
Old clothe or silke, made in our elders dayes,
Wears long and firme, when new thinges soone decayes.
Old dogges bite sore, if all their teeth be sound:
Old auncient freindes, are better than the new,
In younglings loue, there is small suretie found,
For like a top, light fancie turneth round.
Old clothe or silke, made in our elders dayes,
121
Old souldiers are, the beauty of a state,
Young branches beare, but blossomes many a day.
Old Doctors can, deepe matters well debate:
Young punies knowes, not what old doctors say,
King Harries crue, brought conquest home away.
From Flowdayne field, from France and many a soyle,
And put the proud, by strength and force to foyle:
Young branches beare, but blossomes many a day.
Old Doctors can, deepe matters well debate:
Young punies knowes, not what old doctors say,
King Harries crue, brought conquest home away.
From Flowdayne field, from France and many a soyle,
And put the proud, by strength and force to foyle:
Old souldiers were, great Allexanders ayde,
And chiefest ioy, in all the warres he had
The white gray head, made beardlesse boyes affraide,
Where graue men ruld, the countrey all was glad:
And where they lackt, the fortune was but bad.
As all thinges doth, to skill and knowledge yeeld,
So old men beare, the honour of the field:
And chiefest ioy, in all the warres he had
The white gray head, made beardlesse boyes affraide,
Where graue men ruld, the countrey all was glad:
And where they lackt, the fortune was but bad.
As all thinges doth, to skill and knowledge yeeld,
So old men beare, the honour of the field:
What needs more proofe, of auncient souldiers nowe,
Both old and young, are needfull members heere.
I want both time, and power to praise them throw,
For seruice great, in countries quarrell deere:
When cause requires, ye know the case is cleere,
These champions must, in field and open plaine,
With shining sword, the right of kinges maintaine.
Both old and young, are needfull members heere.
I want both time, and power to praise them throw,
For seruice great, in countries quarrell deere:
When cause requires, ye know the case is cleere,
These champions must, in field and open plaine,
With shining sword, the right of kinges maintaine.
FINIS.
131
A Commendation to them that can make gold, shewing that many heretofore hath found out the Philosophers stone.
What
wordes of worth, or filed phrase of men.
May serue my turne, to shew rare gifts of grace
What percing speech, what toong or flowing pen
Is fit to blase, the valour of this case,
My wits are weake, my sense and skill to base:
To talke or treate, on thinges of such great weight.
That seemes so deepe, and reacheth such a height.
May serue my turne, to shew rare gifts of grace
What percing speech, what toong or flowing pen
Is fit to blase, the valour of this case,
My wits are weake, my sense and skill to base:
To talke or treate, on thinges of such great weight.
That seemes so deepe, and reacheth such a height.
With Uirgills verse, and Homers haughtie style,
In golden lines, should knowledge glorie shine.
Would God one man, were borne in this our Ile:
Could catch from cloudes, great arts and grace diuine.
As he were taught, of all the muses nine,
To knowe the course of stars and stately skies:
And howe deepe seas, and floudes doe fall and rise,
In golden lines, should knowledge glorie shine.
Would God one man, were borne in this our Ile:
Could catch from cloudes, great arts and grace diuine.
As he were taught, of all the muses nine,
To knowe the course of stars and stately skies:
And howe deepe seas, and floudes doe fall and rise,
If mortall man, may robbe the gods of skill,
And rule the son, the moone and planets all.
And easly climbe, the heauens when he will:
Or make the spirites, belowe obey his call,
Or clap the earth, into a compasse small.
Knowledge is he, nay rather better seed,
A sacred power, hath knowledge in his head:
And rule the son, the moone and planets all.
And easly climbe, the heauens when he will:
122
Or clap the earth, into a compasse small.
Knowledge is he, nay rather better seed,
A sacred power, hath knowledge in his head:
That from the Lord, of life and glory came,
No earthly gifte, nor worldly wicked knacke.
For world is vaine, most certaine sure I am:
And all foule artes, makes worldlings liue in lacke,
The cleanest mindes, are free from ruine and wracke
For vertue raignes, and rules this wretched mould:
And drawes from drosse, huge heapes of massie gold.
No earthly gifte, nor worldly wicked knacke.
For world is vaine, most certaine sure I am:
And all foule artes, makes worldlings liue in lacke,
The cleanest mindes, are free from ruine and wracke
For vertue raignes, and rules this wretched mould:
And drawes from drosse, huge heapes of massie gold.
They neuer thriue, that workes with hagges of hell,
Bare liues they lewd, bare robes and weedes they weare:
They seldome want, that in ioyes doying well.
Great store of fruit, a happie tree doth beare,
A blasted branch, but withers euery where:
A vertuous man, whose hart to grace aspires,
Findes good successe, of all his whole desires,
Bare liues they lewd, bare robes and weedes they weare:
They seldome want, that in ioyes doying well.
Great store of fruit, a happie tree doth beare,
A blasted branch, but withers euery where:
A vertuous man, whose hart to grace aspires,
Findes good successe, of all his whole desires,
Great studies gaines, great grace and wisdome too.
Great wisdome lookes, into Gods sacred throne:
And fewe doe knowe, what speciall grace can doe,
Such secrets great, doth rest in God alone.
And God giues man, the Philosophers stone,
Then who hath that, hath all that can be gote:
And needes not care; for all the world a grote.
Great wisdome lookes, into Gods sacred throne:
And fewe doe knowe, what speciall grace can doe,
Such secrets great, doth rest in God alone.
And God giues man, the Philosophers stone,
Then who hath that, hath all that can be gote:
And needes not care; for all the world a grote.
Some say that knowes, how god is pleased best,
Good life helpes much, to make men blessed heere:
If that be true, God doth bad life detest,
Where are we then, where shall foule life appeere.
Who hath faire face, who shewes a conscience cleere:
Such as can purge, themselues with praiers still,
Gets greatest grace, and gaineth greatest skil.
Good life helpes much, to make men blessed heere:
If that be true, God doth bad life detest,
Where are we then, where shall foule life appeere.
Who hath faire face, who shewes a conscience cleere:
Such as can purge, themselues with praiers still,
Gets greatest grace, and gaineth greatest skil.
123
Good arts are armes, to all our bodies throwe,
By force to worke, by strength to strike all parts:
To make stife stones, or steele to bend or bowe,
As nothing could, escape the reach of arts.
Schollers in scholes, and merchantes in their marts.
Can ply their thrift, so they that maketh gold,
By giftes of grace, haue cunning treble fold.
By force to worke, by strength to strike all parts:
To make stife stones, or steele to bend or bowe,
As nothing could, escape the reach of arts.
Schollers in scholes, and merchantes in their marts.
Can ply their thrift, so they that maketh gold,
By giftes of grace, haue cunning treble fold.
To catch the heate, of son or fire by light:
And melt and myxe, the mettals as they are,
And put by art, compounds together streight.
As all should yeeld, to fine inuension rare:
When science leaues, all hidden secretes bare,
No mastry then, to worke on waxe newe wrought.
A picture plaine, to answere workmans thought:
And melt and myxe, the mettals as they are,
And put by art, compounds together streight.
As all should yeeld, to fine inuension rare:
When science leaues, all hidden secretes bare,
No mastry then, to worke on waxe newe wrought.
A picture plaine, to answere workmans thought:
Most neerest God, the cleanest hartes doe goe.
They cast of flesh, and Angels nature take,
And than throwe faith, they may moue mountaines so,
Gold by that meanes, a mortall man may make,
God doth great things, for his great glories sake.
That world shall see, some vessels God hath chose:
To whome he doth his hidden giftes disclose,
They cast of flesh, and Angels nature take,
And than throwe faith, they may moue mountaines so,
Gold by that meanes, a mortall man may make,
God doth great things, for his great glories sake.
That world shall see, some vessels God hath chose:
To whome he doth his hidden giftes disclose,
vii. of Wisdome.
The wise king said, he saw how world was made:
How things began, and how they end againe,
How fruits and flowers, doe flourish and doe fade.
How vertues rare, in herbes and roots remaine:
How out of stones, comes dewe like drops of raine,
And how dry dust, and earth that seemes nought worth,
Hides gold in hord, yet brings great treasure forth:
How things began, and how they end againe,
How fruits and flowers, doe flourish and doe fade.
How vertues rare, in herbes and roots remaine:
How out of stones, comes dewe like drops of raine,
And how dry dust, and earth that seemes nought worth,
Hides gold in hord, yet brings great treasure forth:
He saw what grace, and knowledge could discerne,
What wisdomes eies, could see in darkest night.
What God himselfe, to his electe did learne,
What man might doe, by Gods cleere lampe of light,
What might be knowne, by simple sacred sight.
And what poore men, by plainenesse might attaine:
And what fruit comes, by trauell toile and paine,
What wisdomes eies, could see in darkest night.
What God himselfe, to his electe did learne,
134
What might be knowne, by simple sacred sight.
And what poore men, by plainenesse might attaine:
And what fruit comes, by trauell toile and paine,
To gather flowers, and weedes where ere they growe.
And take vp fruit, from tops of trees that fall,
And mixe these things, with flouds that ebbe and floe:
And at a becke, to change their natures all.
Is art at will, and knowledge we it call,
But to digge out, from drosse the gold most fine.
Is secret skill, and speciall power deuine:
And take vp fruit, from tops of trees that fall,
And mixe these things, with flouds that ebbe and floe:
And at a becke, to change their natures all.
Is art at will, and knowledge we it call,
But to digge out, from drosse the gold most fine.
Is secret skill, and speciall power deuine:
To make fine glasse, and giue it forme and shape,
Was sure an art, that fewe at first did knowe.
A painter made, quicke birds to picke the grape:
That pensell had, most finely painted so,
In dome dead things, life hath bin breathd you knowe.
Who reades shall see, great knowledge vnder son:
That was with men, by grace and vertue won,
Was sure an art, that fewe at first did knowe.
A painter made, quicke birds to picke the grape:
That pensell had, most finely painted so,
In dome dead things, life hath bin breathd you knowe.
Who reades shall see, great knowledge vnder son:
That was with men, by grace and vertue won,
Mercurius Tres migistus king of the Egiptianes.
A king there was, of yoer that Hermies hight,
Who first found out, the cause how gold was made.
Some at his torch, did there dime candells light:
That earst did walke, for want of Son in shade,
Since that in seas, full many wits did wade.
To found and see, how farre weake feete might goe:
And some did find, the depth thereof I troe,
Who first found out, the cause how gold was made.
Some at his torch, did there dime candells light:
That earst did walke, for want of Son in shade,
Since that in seas, full many wits did wade.
To found and see, how farre weake feete might goe:
And some did find, the depth thereof I troe,
Gebar a king, likewise of great estate,
A volume large, of this great art did write.
Throw studie long, Gebar such knowledge gat:
That in his books, great princes did delight,
Great thinges of him, great actors doe resyte.
Greater then he, some say was neuer none,
For he did teach, how men should make the stone.
A volume large, of this great art did write.
Throw studie long, Gebar such knowledge gat:
That in his books, great princes did delight,
135
Greater then he, some say was neuer none,
For he did teach, how men should make the stone.
In a vision, much matter may you read,
Of this rich art, that thousands hold full deere:
Remundus too, that long liud heere indeede,
Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeare.
Of stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleere,
A stone for health, Arnolde wrate of the same:
And many more, that were too long to name.
Of this rich art, that thousands hold full deere:
Remundus too, that long liud heere indeede,
Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeare.
Of stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleere,
A stone for health, Arnolde wrate of the same:
And many more, that were too long to name.
But Ryppley may, not scape my pen as yet,
Nor Nortons bookes, that are in written hand:
Two famous clarkes, of ripe and ready wit.
Meere Englishmen, borne both with in this land,
In the records, of towre their workes doe stand:
Let this suffice, how ere the matter seemd,
Among the wise, this art was much esteemd.
Nor Nortons bookes, that are in written hand:
Two famous clarkes, of ripe and ready wit.
Meere Englishmen, borne both with in this land,
In the records, of towre their workes doe stand:
Let this suffice, how ere the matter seemd,
Among the wise, this art was much esteemd.
Heere follovves the Tragedie of Shores VVife, much augmented with diuers newe aditions.
To the right honorable the Lady Mount Eagle
and Compton, wife to the right honourable the Lord of Buckhursts son and heire.
127
Among
the rest, by fortune ouerthrowne,
I am not least, that most may waile her fate:
My fame and brute, abroade the world is blowne,
Who can forget, a thing thus done so late?
My great mischance, my fall, and heauy state,
Is such a marke, whereat each tongue doth shoote,
That my good name, is pluckt vp by the roote.
I am not least, that most may waile her fate:
My fame and brute, abroade the world is blowne,
Who can forget, a thing thus done so late?
My great mischance, my fall, and heauy state,
Is such a marke, whereat each tongue doth shoote,
That my good name, is pluckt vp by the roote.
This wandring world, bewitched me with wiles,
And won my wits, with wanton sugred ioyes:
In Fortunes freakes, who trusts her when she smiles,
Shall find her false, and full of fickle toyes,
Her triumphs all, but fills our eares with noyse,
Her flattering giftes, are pleasures mixt with paine,
Yea, and all her words, are thunders threatning raine.
And won my wits, with wanton sugred ioyes:
In Fortunes freakes, who trusts her when she smiles,
Shall find her false, and full of fickle toyes,
Her triumphs all, but fills our eares with noyse,
Her flattering giftes, are pleasures mixt with paine,
Yea, and all her words, are thunders threatning raine.
The fond desire, that we in glorie set,
Doth thirle our hearts, to hope in slipper hap,
A blast of pompe, is all the fruite we get,
And vnder that, lies hid a sodaine clap.
In seeking rest, vnwares we fall in trap,
In groping flowres, with nettels stung we are,
In labring long, we reape the crop of care.
Doth thirle our hearts, to hope in slipper hap,
A blast of pompe, is all the fruite we get,
And vnder that, lies hid a sodaine clap.
In seeking rest, vnwares we fall in trap,
In groping flowres, with nettels stung we are,
In labring long, we reape the crop of care.
Oh darke deceite, with painted face for sho,
Oh poysned baite, that makes vs eager still,
Oh fained friend, deceiuing people so,
Oh world, of thee, we cannot speake too ill:
Yet fooles we are, that bend so to thy skill,
The plague and scourge, that thousands daily feele,
Should warne the wyse, to shun thy whirling wheele.
Oh poysned baite, that makes vs eager still,
128
Oh world, of thee, we cannot speake too ill:
Yet fooles we are, that bend so to thy skill,
The plague and scourge, that thousands daily feele,
Should warne the wyse, to shun thy whirling wheele.
But who can stop, the streame that runnes full swift?
Or quench the fire, that crept is in the straw?
The thirsty drinkes, there is no other shift,
Perforce is such, that neede obayes no lawe.
Thus bounde we are, in worldly yokes to drawe,
And cannot stay, nor turne againe in time,
Nor learne of those, that sought too high to clime.
Or quench the fire, that crept is in the straw?
The thirsty drinkes, there is no other shift,
Perforce is such, that neede obayes no lawe.
Thus bounde we are, in worldly yokes to drawe,
And cannot stay, nor turne againe in time,
Nor learne of those, that sought too high to clime.
My selfe for proofe, loe here I nowe appeare,
In womans weede, with weeping watred eyes,
That bought her youth, and her delights full deare:
Whose lewd reproch, doth sound vnto the skies.
And bids my corse, out of the ground to rise,
As one that may no longer hide her face:
But needes must come and shewe her piteous case,
In womans weede, with weeping watred eyes,
That bought her youth, and her delights full deare:
Whose lewd reproch, doth sound vnto the skies.
And bids my corse, out of the ground to rise,
As one that may no longer hide her face:
But needes must come and shewe her piteous case,
The sheete of shame, wherein I shrowded was,
Did moue me oft, to plaine before this day,
And in mine eares, did ring the trompe of brasse,
Which is defame, that doth each thing bewray,
Yea though full dead, and lowe in earth I lay,
I heard the voyce, of mee what people saide,
But then to speake, alas I was affraide.
Did moue me oft, to plaine before this day,
And in mine eares, did ring the trompe of brasse,
Which is defame, that doth each thing bewray,
Yea though full dead, and lowe in earth I lay,
I heard the voyce, of mee what people saide,
But then to speake, alas I was affraide.
And nowe a time, for me I see preparde,
I heare the lines, and falls of many wights:
My tale therefore, the better may be heard;
For at the torch, the little candle lights.
Where Pageants be, smale things fill out the sights.
Wherefore giue eare, good Churchyard doe thy best,
My Tragedy, to place among the rest.
I heare the lines, and falls of many wights:
My tale therefore, the better may be heard;
For at the torch, the little candle lights.
Where Pageants be, smale things fill out the sights.
Wherefore giue eare, good Churchyard doe thy best,
129
Because the truth, shall witnes well with thee,
I will rehearse, in order as it fell,
My life, my death, my dolefull destene,
My wealth, my woe, my doing euery deale,
My bitter blisse, wherein I long did dwell:
A whole discourse, by me Shores wife by name,
Now shalt thou heare, as thou hadst seene the same
I will rehearse, in order as it fell,
My life, my death, my dolefull destene,
My wealth, my woe, my doing euery deale,
My bitter blisse, wherein I long did dwell:
A whole discourse, by me Shores wife by name,
Now shalt thou heare, as thou hadst seene the same
Of noble blood, I cannot boast my byrth,
For I was made, out of the meanest moulde,
Mine heritage, but seuen foote of th'earth,
Fortune ne gaue, to me the gifts of gold,
But I could brag, of nature if I would:
Who fild my face, with fauour fresh and faire,
Whose beautie shon, like Phœbus in the ayre.
For I was made, out of the meanest moulde,
Mine heritage, but seuen foote of th'earth,
Fortune ne gaue, to me the gifts of gold,
But I could brag, of nature if I would:
Who fild my face, with fauour fresh and faire,
Whose beautie shon, like Phœbus in the ayre.
My beautie blasd, like torch or twinckling starre,
A liuely lamp, that lends darke world some light,
Faire Phœbus beames, scarse reacheth halfe so farre:
As did the rayes, of my rare beautie bright,
As summers day, exceedes blacke winters night,
So Shores wiues face, made foule Browneta blush:
As pearle staynes pitch, or gold surmounts a rush.
A liuely lamp, that lends darke world some light,
Faire Phœbus beames, scarse reacheth halfe so farre:
As did the rayes, of my rare beautie bright,
As summers day, exceedes blacke winters night,
So Shores wiues face, made foule Browneta blush:
As pearle staynes pitch, or gold surmounts a rush.
The Damaske rose, or Rosamond the faire,
That Henry held, as deere as Iewells be,
Who was kept close, in cage from open ayre:
For beauties boast, could scarse compare with me,
The kindly buds, and blosomes of braue tree.
With white and red, had deckt my cheekes so fine,
There stoode two balles, like drops of claret wine.
That Henry held, as deere as Iewells be,
Who was kept close, in cage from open ayre:
For beauties boast, could scarse compare with me,
The kindly buds, and blosomes of braue tree.
With white and red, had deckt my cheekes so fine,
There stoode two balles, like drops of claret wine.
The beaten snow, nor Lily in the field,
No whiter sure, then naked necke and hand.
My lookes had force, to make a Lyon yeeld,
And at my forme, in gase a world would stand,
My body small, framd finely to be spand,
As though dame kind, had sworne in solemne sort,
To shrowd herselfe, in my faire forme and port.
No whiter sure, then naked necke and hand.
My lookes had force, to make a Lyon yeeld,
130
My body small, framd finely to be spand,
As though dame kind, had sworne in solemne sort,
To shrowd herselfe, in my faire forme and port.
No part amisse, when nature tooke such care,
To set me out, as nought should be awry,
To fornish forth, (in due proportion rare)
A peece of worke, should please a princes eie,
O would to God, that boast might proue a lie,
For pride youth tooke, in beauties borrowde trash,
Gaue age a whippe, and left me in the lash.
To set me out, as nought should be awry,
To fornish forth, (in due proportion rare)
A peece of worke, should please a princes eie,
O would to God, that boast might proue a lie,
For pride youth tooke, in beauties borrowde trash,
Gaue age a whippe, and left me in the lash.
My shape some saide, was seemely to each sight,
My countenance, did shewe a sober grace,
Mine eies in lookes, were neuer proued light,
My tongue in wordes, was chast in euery case,
Mine eares were deafe, and would no louers place,
Saue that, alas, a Prince did blot my browe,
Loe, there the strong, did make the weake to bowe.
My countenance, did shewe a sober grace,
Mine eies in lookes, were neuer proued light,
My tongue in wordes, was chast in euery case,
Mine eares were deafe, and would no louers place,
Saue that, alas, a Prince did blot my browe,
Loe, there the strong, did make the weake to bowe.
The maiestie, that kings to people beare,
The stately port, the awefull cheere they showe,
Doth make the meane, to shrinke and couch for feare,
Like as the hounde, that doth his maister knowe:
What then? since I, was made vnto the bowe,
There is no cloake, can serue to hide my fault:
For I agreede, the fort he should assault.
The stately port, the awefull cheere they showe,
Doth make the meane, to shrinke and couch for feare,
Like as the hounde, that doth his maister knowe:
What then? since I, was made vnto the bowe,
There is no cloake, can serue to hide my fault:
For I agreede, the fort he should assault.
The eagles force, subdues ech bird that flies,
What mettall may, resist the flaming fire?
Doth not the Sun, defill the cleerest eyes,
And melt the yse, and make the frost retyre,
Who can withstand, a puissant kings desire?
The stiffest stones, are perced through with tooles,
The wisest are, with Princes made but fooles,
What mettall may, resist the flaming fire?
Doth not the Sun, defill the cleerest eyes,
And melt the yse, and make the frost retyre,
Who can withstand, a puissant kings desire?
The stiffest stones, are perced through with tooles,
The wisest are, with Princes made but fooles,
131
Yf kinde had wrought my forme, in common frames,
And set me forth, in colours blacke and browne.
Or beautie had, beene parcht in Phœbus flames,
Or shamefast wayes, had pluckt my fethers downe,
Then had I kept, my fame and good renowne:
For natures gifts, were cause of all my griefe,
A pleasaunt pray, entiseth many a theefe.
And set me forth, in colours blacke and browne.
Or beautie had, beene parcht in Phœbus flames,
Or shamefast wayes, had pluckt my fethers downe,
Then had I kept, my fame and good renowne:
For natures gifts, were cause of all my griefe,
A pleasaunt pray, entiseth many a theefe.
Thus woe to thee, that wrought my peacocks pride,
By cloathing me, with natures tapestry:
Woe worth the hewe, wherein my face was dyde,
Which made me thinke, I pleased euery eie,
Like as the starres, make men beholde the skye.
So beauties showe, doth make the wise full fond,
And brings free harts, full oft in endlesse bond.
By cloathing me, with natures tapestry:
Woe worth the hewe, wherein my face was dyde,
Which made me thinke, I pleased euery eie,
Like as the starres, make men beholde the skye.
So beauties showe, doth make the wise full fond,
And brings free harts, full oft in endlesse bond.
But cleere from blame, my friends can not be found,
Before my time, my youth they did abuse,
In mariage yoke, a prentise was I bound,
When that meere loue, I knewe not how to vse,
But wel away, that cannot me excuse,
The harme is mine, though they deuisde my care,
And I must smart, and sit in slaunderous snare.
Before my time, my youth they did abuse,
In mariage yoke, a prentise was I bound,
When that meere loue, I knewe not how to vse,
But wel away, that cannot me excuse,
The harme is mine, though they deuisde my care,
And I must smart, and sit in slaunderous snare.
Yet giue me leaue, to pleade my cause at large,
Yf that the horse, doe run beyonde his race,
Or any thinge, that keepers haue in charge,
Doe breake their course, where rulers may take place:
Or meate be set, before the hungries face,
Who is in fault? th' offender yea or no,
Or they that are, the cause of all this woe.
Yf that the horse, doe run beyonde his race,
Or any thinge, that keepers haue in charge,
Doe breake their course, where rulers may take place:
Or meate be set, before the hungries face,
Who is in fault? th' offender yea or no,
Or they that are, the cause of all this woe.
Note well what strife, this forced mariage makes,
What lothed liues, doe come where loue doth lacke,
What scratching briers, doe growe vpon such brakes,
What common weales, by it are brought to wracke,
What heauy loade, is put on patients backe,
What strange delights, this branch of vice doth breed
And marke what graine, springs out of such a seede.
What lothed liues, doe come where loue doth lacke,
What scratching briers, doe growe vpon such brakes,
132
What heauy loade, is put on patients backe,
What strange delights, this branch of vice doth breed
And marke what graine, springs out of such a seede.
Compell the hauke, to sit that is vnmande,
Or make the hounde, vnraind to drawe the deere,
Or bring the free, against his will in band,
Or moue the sad, a pleasant tale to here,
Your time is lost, and you no whit the nere:
So loue ne learnes, of force the knot to knit,
She serues but those, that feeles sweete fancies fit.
Or make the hounde, vnraind to drawe the deere,
Or bring the free, against his will in band,
Or moue the sad, a pleasant tale to here,
Your time is lost, and you no whit the nere:
So loue ne learnes, of force the knot to knit,
She serues but those, that feeles sweete fancies fit.
The lesse defame, redounds to my dispraise,
I was intiste, by traines, and trapt by trust:
Though in no force, remained yeas and nayes,
Unto my friends, yet needes consent I must,
In euery thing, yea lawfull or vniust.
They breake the bowes, and shake the tree by sleight,
And bend the wand, that mought haue growne full straight.
I was intiste, by traines, and trapt by trust:
Though in no force, remained yeas and nayes,
Unto my friends, yet needes consent I must,
In euery thing, yea lawfull or vniust.
They breake the bowes, and shake the tree by sleight,
And bend the wand, that mought haue growne full straight.
What helpe is this, the pale thus broken downe,
The deere must needes, in danger run astray:
At me therefore, why should the world so frowne,
My weakenes made, my youth a Princes pray.
Though wisdome should, the course of nature stay,
Yet try my case, who list, and they shall proue,
The ripest wits, are soonest thralls to loue.
The deere must needes, in danger run astray:
At me therefore, why should the world so frowne,
My weakenes made, my youth a Princes pray.
Though wisdome should, the course of nature stay,
Yet try my case, who list, and they shall proue,
The ripest wits, are soonest thralls to loue.
What neede I more, to cleere my selfe so much,
A king me wan, and had me at his call,
His royall state, his princely grace was such,
The hope of will, that women seeke for all,
The ease and wealth, the gifts which were not small,
Beseeged me, so strongly round about,
My powre was weake, I could not holde him out.
A king me wan, and had me at his call,
His royall state, his princely grace was such,
The hope of will, that women seeke for all,
The ease and wealth, the gifts which were not small,
Beseeged me, so strongly round about,
My powre was weake, I could not holde him out.
133
Duke Hanniball, in all his conquest great,
Or Cæsar yet, whose triumphes did exceed,
Of all their spoyles, which made them toyle and sweate,
Were not so glad, to haue so rich a meede,
As was this prince, when I to him agreede,
And yeelded me, a prisner willingly,
As one that knewe, no way away to fly.
Or Cæsar yet, whose triumphes did exceed,
Of all their spoyles, which made them toyle and sweate,
Were not so glad, to haue so rich a meede,
As was this prince, when I to him agreede,
And yeelded me, a prisner willingly,
As one that knewe, no way away to fly.
The Nightingale, for all his merry voyce,
Nor yet the Larke, that still delights to sing,
Did neuer make the hearers so reioyce,
As I with wordes haue made this worthy King:
I neuer iarde, in tune was euery string,
I tempred so, my tongue to please his eare,
That what I saide, was currant euery where.
Nor yet the Larke, that still delights to sing,
Did neuer make the hearers so reioyce,
As I with wordes haue made this worthy King:
I neuer iarde, in tune was euery string,
I tempred so, my tongue to please his eare,
That what I saide, was currant euery where.
Sweete are the songs, that merry-night crow singes,
For many parts, are in those charming notes,
Sweete are the tunes, and Pipes that pleaseth kings,
Sweete is the loue wherein great Lordings dotes,
But sweetst of all, is fancie where it flotes,
For throwe rough seas, it smoothly swimmes away,
And in deepe flouds, where skulles of fish doe play.
For many parts, are in those charming notes,
Sweete are the tunes, and Pipes that pleaseth kings,
Sweete is the loue wherein great Lordings dotes,
But sweetst of all, is fancie where it flotes,
For throwe rough seas, it smoothly swimmes away,
And in deepe flouds, where skulles of fish doe play.
And where loue slides, it leaues no signe nor showe,
Where it hath gon, the way so shuts againe,
It is a sport, to heare the fine night-crow,
Chaunt in the queere vpon a pricke song plaine:
No musicke more may please a princes vaine,
Then descant strange, and voice of faurets breest,
In quiet bower, when birds be all at rest.
Where it hath gon, the way so shuts againe,
It is a sport, to heare the fine night-crow,
Chaunt in the queere vpon a pricke song plaine:
No musicke more may please a princes vaine,
Then descant strange, and voice of faurets breest,
In quiet bower, when birds be all at rest.
No such consort, as plaine two parts in one,
Whose rare reports, doth carry cunning clean,
Where two long loues, and liues in ioy alone.
They sing at will, the treble or the meane,
UUhere musicke wants, the mirth not worth a beane,
The king and I, agreed in such concorde,
I ruld by loue, though he did raigne a Lord.
Whose rare reports, doth carry cunning clean,
Where two long loues, and liues in ioy alone.
134
UUhere musicke wants, the mirth not worth a beane,
The king and I, agreed in such concorde,
I ruld by loue, though he did raigne a Lord.
I ioynd my talke, my iestures and my grace,
In wittie frames, that long might last and stand,
So that I brought, the King in such a case,
That to his death, I was his chiefest hand,
I gouernd him, that ruled all this land:
I bare the sword, though he did weare the Crowne,
I strake the stroke, that threwe the mightie downe.
In wittie frames, that long might last and stand,
So that I brought, the King in such a case,
That to his death, I was his chiefest hand,
I gouernd him, that ruled all this land:
I bare the sword, though he did weare the Crowne,
I strake the stroke, that threwe the mightie downe.
If iustice said, that iudgement was but death,
With my sweete wordes, I could the King perswade,
And make him pause, and take therein a breath,
Till I with suite, the fautors peace had made:
I knewe what way to vse him in his trade,
I had the art, to make the Lyon meeke,
There was no point, wherein I was to seeke.
With my sweete wordes, I could the King perswade,
And make him pause, and take therein a breath,
Till I with suite, the fautors peace had made:
I knewe what way to vse him in his trade,
I had the art, to make the Lyon meeke,
There was no point, wherein I was to seeke.
I tooke delight, in doying each man good,
Not scratting all, my selfe as all were mine,
But lookt whose life, in neede and danger stoode.
And those I kept, from harme with cunning fine.
On Princes traine, I alwayes cast mine eine,
For lifting vp, the seruants of a King,
I did throw court, my selfe in fauour bring,
Not scratting all, my selfe as all were mine,
But lookt whose life, in neede and danger stoode.
And those I kept, from harme with cunning fine.
On Princes traine, I alwayes cast mine eine,
For lifting vp, the seruants of a King,
I did throw court, my selfe in fauour bring,
I offered ayde, before they sued to me,
And promisd nought, but would performe it streight,
I shaked downe, sweete fruit from top of tree,
Made aples fall, in laps of men by sleight.
I did good turnes, whiles that I was a height:
For feare a flawe, of winde would make me reele,
And blowe me downe, when Fortune turnd her wheele.
And promisd nought, but would performe it streight,
I shaked downe, sweete fruit from top of tree,
Made aples fall, in laps of men by sleight.
I did good turnes, whiles that I was a height:
For feare a flawe, of winde would make me reele,
135
I fild no chests, with chynks to cherish age,
But in the harts, of people layde my gold,
Sought loue of Lord, of maister and of page:
And for no bribbe, I neuer fauour solde.
I had inough, I might doe what I would,
Saue spend or giue, or fling it on the ground,
The more I gaue, the more in purse I found.
But in the harts, of people layde my gold,
Sought loue of Lord, of maister and of page:
And for no bribbe, I neuer fauour solde.
I had inough, I might doe what I would,
Saue spend or giue, or fling it on the ground,
The more I gaue, the more in purse I found.
Yf I did frowne, who then durst looke awry,
Yf I did smile, who would not laugh outright,
Yf I but spake, who durst my wordes denye?
Yf I persude, who would forsake the flight?
I meane, my powre, was knowne to euery wight,
On such a height, good hap had built my bowre,
As though my sweete, should nere haue turnd to sowre.
Yf I did smile, who would not laugh outright,
Yf I but spake, who durst my wordes denye?
Yf I persude, who would forsake the flight?
I meane, my powre, was knowne to euery wight,
On such a height, good hap had built my bowre,
As though my sweete, should nere haue turnd to sowre.
My husband then, as one that knewe his good,
Refusde to keepe, a Princes Concubine,
Forseeing th' end, and mischiefe as it stood,
Against the King, did neuer much repine:
He sawe the grape, whereof he dranke the wine,
Though inward thought, his hart did still torment,
Yet outwardly, he seemde he was content.
Refusde to keepe, a Princes Concubine,
Forseeing th' end, and mischiefe as it stood,
Against the King, did neuer much repine:
He sawe the grape, whereof he dranke the wine,
Though inward thought, his hart did still torment,
Yet outwardly, he seemde he was content.
To purchase praise, and win the peoples zeale,
Yea rather bent, of kinde to doe some good,
I euer did, vpholde the common weale,
I had delight, to saue the guiltles blood:
Each suters cause, when that I vnderstood,
I did prefer, as it had beene mine owne,
And helpe them vp, that might haue beene orethrowne.
Yea rather bent, of kinde to doe some good,
I euer did, vpholde the common weale,
I had delight, to saue the guiltles blood:
Each suters cause, when that I vnderstood,
I did prefer, as it had beene mine owne,
And helpe them vp, that might haue beene orethrowne.
136
My powre was prest, to right the poore mans wrong,
My hands were free, to giue where neede required:
To watch for grace, I neuer thought it long,
To doe men good, I neede not be desired.
Nor yet with giftes, my hart was neuer hyred.
But when the ball, was at my foote to guide,
I playde to those, that Fortune did abide.
My hands were free, to giue where neede required:
To watch for grace, I neuer thought it long,
To doe men good, I neede not be desired.
Nor yet with giftes, my hart was neuer hyred.
But when the ball, was at my foote to guide,
I playde to those, that Fortune did abide.
My want was wealth, my woe was ease at will,
My robes were rich, and brauer then the sunn:
My Fortune then, was far aboue my skill,
My state was great, my glasse did euer runne.
My fatall threed, so happely was spunne,
That then I sate, in earthly pleasures clad,
And for the time, a Goddesse place I had.
My robes were rich, and brauer then the sunn:
My Fortune then, was far aboue my skill,
My state was great, my glasse did euer runne.
My fatall threed, so happely was spunne,
That then I sate, in earthly pleasures clad,
And for the time, a Goddesse place I had.
But I had not, so soone this life possest,
But my good hap, began to slide aside:
And Fortune then, did me so sore molest,
That vnto plaints, was turned all my pride.
It booted not, to rowe against the tide,
Mine oares were weake, my heart and strength did faile,
The winde was rough, I durst not beare a saile.
But my good hap, began to slide aside:
And Fortune then, did me so sore molest,
That vnto plaints, was turned all my pride.
It booted not, to rowe against the tide,
Mine oares were weake, my heart and strength did faile,
The winde was rough, I durst not beare a saile.
What steps of strife, belong to high estate,
The climing vp, is doubtfull to endure,
The seate it selfe, doth purchase priuy hate,
And honours fame, is fickle and vnsure,
And all she brings, is flowres that be vnpure:
Which fall as fast, as they doe sprout and spring,
And cannot last, they are so vaine a thing.
The climing vp, is doubtfull to endure,
The seate it selfe, doth purchase priuy hate,
And honours fame, is fickle and vnsure,
And all she brings, is flowres that be vnpure:
Which fall as fast, as they doe sprout and spring,
And cannot last, they are so vaine a thing.
We count no care, to catch that we doe wish,
But what we win, is long to vs vnknowen,
Till present paine be serued in our dish,
We scarse perceiue, whereon our griefe hath growen:
What graine proues well, that is so rashly sowen:
Yf that a meane, did measure all our deedes,
In steede of corne, we should not gather weedes.
But what we win, is long to vs vnknowen,
Till present paine be serued in our dish,
137
What graine proues well, that is so rashly sowen:
Yf that a meane, did measure all our deedes,
In steede of corne, we should not gather weedes.
The setled mind, is free from Fortunes power,
They neede not feare, who looke not vp aloft:
But they that clime, are carefull euery hower,
For when they fall; they light not very soft,
Examples hath, the wisest warned oft,
That where the trees, the smalest branches beare,
The stormes doe blow, and haue most rigour there.
They neede not feare, who looke not vp aloft:
But they that clime, are carefull euery hower,
For when they fall; they light not very soft,
Examples hath, the wisest warned oft,
That where the trees, the smalest branches beare,
The stormes doe blow, and haue most rigour there.
Where is it strong, but neere the ground and roote:
Where is it weake, but on the highest sprayes:
Where may a man, so surely set his foote,
But on those bowes, that groweth lowe alwayes?
The little twigs, are but vnstedfast stayes,
Yf they breake not, they bend with euery blast,
Who trusts to them, shall neuer stand full fast.
Where is it weake, but on the highest sprayes:
Where may a man, so surely set his foote,
But on those bowes, that groweth lowe alwayes?
The little twigs, are but vnstedfast stayes,
Yf they breake not, they bend with euery blast,
Who trusts to them, shall neuer stand full fast.
The winde is great, vpon the highest hilles,
The quiet life, is in the dale belowe:
Who treades on yse, shall slyde against their wills,
They want no cares, that curious artes doe knowe.
Who liues at ease, and can content him so,
Is perfect wise, and sets vs all to schoole,
Who hates this lore, may well be calde a foole.
The quiet life, is in the dale belowe:
Who treades on yse, shall slyde against their wills,
They want no cares, that curious artes doe knowe.
Who liues at ease, and can content him so,
Is perfect wise, and sets vs all to schoole,
Who hates this lore, may well be calde a foole.
What greater griefe, may come to any life,
Then after sweete, to taste the bitter sowre,
Or after peace, to fall at warre and strife,
Or after myrth, to haue a cause to lowre:
Under such props, false fortune buildes her bowre
On sodaine chaunge, her flittering frames be set,
Where is no way, for to escape the net.
Then after sweete, to taste the bitter sowre,
Or after peace, to fall at warre and strife,
Or after myrth, to haue a cause to lowre:
Under such props, false fortune buildes her bowre
On sodaine chaunge, her flittering frames be set,
138
The hasty smart, that Fortune sends in spite,
Is harde to brooke, where gladnes we embrace:
She threatens not, but sodainely doth smite,
Where ioy is moū, there doth she sorrow place.
But sure I thinke, it is is too strange a case,
For vs to feele, such griefe amid our game,
And knowe not why, vntill we tast the same.
Is harde to brooke, where gladnes we embrace:
She threatens not, but sodainely doth smite,
Where ioy is moū, there doth she sorrow place.
But sure I thinke, it is is too strange a case,
For vs to feele, such griefe amid our game,
And knowe not why, vntill we tast the same.
As erst I sayde, my blisse was turnd to bale,
I had good cause, to weepe and wring my hands,
And showe sad cheere, with countenance full pale:
For I was brought, in sorrowes wofull bands.
A piery came, and set my ship on sands,
What should I hyde, and coulour care and noy?
King Edward dyde, in whome was all my ioy,
I had good cause, to weepe and wring my hands,
And showe sad cheere, with countenance full pale:
For I was brought, in sorrowes wofull bands.
A piery came, and set my ship on sands,
What should I hyde, and coulour care and noy?
King Edward dyde, in whome was all my ioy,
And when the earth, receiued had his corse,
And that in tombe this worthy Prince was layde,
The world on me, began to showe his force,
Of troubles then, my part I long assayde:
For they of whome, I neuer was affrayde,
Undid we most, and wrought me such dispite,
That they bereft, me of my pleasure quite.
And that in tombe this worthy Prince was layde,
The world on me, began to showe his force,
Of troubles then, my part I long assayde:
For they of whome, I neuer was affrayde,
Undid we most, and wrought me such dispite,
That they bereft, me of my pleasure quite.
Brought bare and poore, and throwne in worldes disgrace,
Holds downe the head, that neuer casts vp eye,
Cast out of court, condemnd in euery place,
Condemnd perforce, at mercies foote must lye:
Hope is but small, when we for mercie crye.
The bird halfe dead, that hauke hath fast in foote,
Lay head on blocke, where is no other boote.
Holds downe the head, that neuer casts vp eye,
Cast out of court, condemnd in euery place,
Condemnd perforce, at mercies foote must lye:
Hope is but small, when we for mercie crye.
The bird halfe dead, that hauke hath fast in foote,
Lay head on blocke, where is no other boote.
139
The rowling stone, that tumbleth downe the hill,
Fynds none to stay, the furie of his fall,
Once vnder foote, for euer daunted still:
One cruell blowe, strikes cleane a way the ball.
Left once in lacke, feeles alwayes want of will,
A conquerd mind, must yeeld to euery ill,
A weake poore soule, that fortune doth forsake,
In hard extreames, from world her leaue may take
Fynds none to stay, the furie of his fall,
Once vnder foote, for euer daunted still:
One cruell blowe, strikes cleane a way the ball.
Left once in lacke, feeles alwayes want of will,
A conquerd mind, must yeeld to euery ill,
A weake poore soule, that fortune doth forsake,
In hard extreames, from world her leaue may take
From those that fall, such as doe rise and run,
The sound with sicke, doe seldome long abide,
Poore people passe (as shadowes in the Sun).
Like feeble fish, that needes must followe tyde,
Among the rich, a beggar soone is spied,
When weake Shores wife, had lost her staffe of stay:
The halt and blind, went limping lame away,
The sound with sicke, doe seldome long abide,
Poore people passe (as shadowes in the Sun).
Like feeble fish, that needes must followe tyde,
Among the rich, a beggar soone is spied,
When weake Shores wife, had lost her staffe of stay:
The halt and blind, went limping lame away,
The poore is pincht, and pointed at in deed,
As baited bull, were leading to a stake,
Wealth findes great helpe, want gets no friend at neede,
A plaged wight, a booteles mone may make:
A naked soule, in street for colde may quake.
But colde or hot, when mischiefes comes a roe,
As falles the lot, the backe beares of the bloe.
As baited bull, were leading to a stake,
Wealth findes great helpe, want gets no friend at neede,
A plaged wight, a booteles mone may make:
A naked soule, in street for colde may quake.
But colde or hot, when mischiefes comes a roe,
As falles the lot, the backe beares of the bloe.
Prefarment past, the world will soone forget,
The present time, is daily gazd vpon,
Yf merchant rich, from wealth doe fall in debt:
Small count is made, of his good fortune gon.
We feede on flesh, and fling away the bone,
Embrace the best, and set the worst aside,
Because faire flowers, are made of in their pride.
The present time, is daily gazd vpon,
Yf merchant rich, from wealth doe fall in debt:
Small count is made, of his good fortune gon.
We feede on flesh, and fling away the bone,
Embrace the best, and set the worst aside,
Because faire flowers, are made of in their pride.
You yonglings nowe, that vaine delights leads on,
To sell chast life, for lewd and light desires,
Poore gaine is gote, when rich good name is gon,
Foule blot and shame, liues vnder trimme attires:
World soone casts off, the hackney horse it hiers.
And when bare nagge, is ridden out of breath,
Tibbe is turnd lose, to feed on barren heath.
To sell chast life, for lewd and light desires,
140
Foule blot and shame, liues vnder trimme attires:
World soone casts off, the hackney horse it hiers.
And when bare nagge, is ridden out of breath,
Tibbe is turnd lose, to feed on barren heath.
Of flowers a while, men doe gay poses make,
The sent once past, a due dry withered leaues,
Loue lasts not long, prickt vp for pleasures sake:
Straw little worth, when corne forsaks the sheaues,
A painted post, the gazars eie deceiues,
But when foule fauts, are found that bleard the sight.
The account is gon, of girlls or gugawes light.
The sent once past, a due dry withered leaues,
Loue lasts not long, prickt vp for pleasures sake:
Straw little worth, when corne forsaks the sheaues,
A painted post, the gazars eie deceiues,
But when foule fauts, are found that bleard the sight.
The account is gon, of girlls or gugawes light.
Young pooppies play, small season lasts you see,
Old appish sportes, are quickly out of grace,
Fond wanton games, will soone forgotten be.
As sowre as crabbe, becomes the sweetest face,
There needes no more, be spoken of this case,
All earthly ioyes, by tract of time decayes,
Soone is the glase runne out of our good dayes.
Old appish sportes, are quickly out of grace,
Fond wanton games, will soone forgotten be.
As sowre as crabbe, becomes the sweetest face,
There needes no more, be spoken of this case,
All earthly ioyes, by tract of time decayes,
Soone is the glase runne out of our good dayes.
My fall and facte, makes proofe of that is spoke,
Tels world to much, of shadowes in the sunne,
Dust blowne with winde, or simple proofe of smoake,
That flies from fire, and fast throwe aire doth run:
It ends with woe, that was with ioy begun.
It turnes to teares, that first began with sport,
At length long paine, finds pleasure was but short.
Tels world to much, of shadowes in the sunne,
Dust blowne with winde, or simple proofe of smoake,
That flies from fire, and fast throwe aire doth run:
It ends with woe, that was with ioy begun.
It turnes to teares, that first began with sport,
At length long paine, finds pleasure was but short.
As long as life, remaind in Edwards brest,
Who was but I? who had such friends at call?
His body was, no sooner put in chest,
But well was he, that could procure my fall:
His brother was, mine enemy most of all,
Protector then, whose vice did still abound,
From ill to worse, till death did him confound.
Who was but I? who had such friends at call?
His body was, no sooner put in chest,
But well was he, that could procure my fall:
His brother was, mine enemy most of all,
141
From ill to worse, till death did him confound.
He falsely fainde, that I of counsell was,
To poyson him, which thing I neuer meant:
But he could set thereon a face of brasse,
To bring to passe, his lewde and false intent,
To such mischiefe, this tyrants heart was bent,
To God, ne man, he neuer stood in awe,
For in his wrath, he made his will a lawe.
To poyson him, which thing I neuer meant:
But he could set thereon a face of brasse,
To bring to passe, his lewde and false intent,
To such mischiefe, this tyrants heart was bent,
To God, ne man, he neuer stood in awe,
For in his wrath, he made his will a lawe.
Lord Hastings bloud for vengeaunce on him cryes,
And many moe, that were to long to name:
But most of all and in most woefull wise,
I had good cause, this wrtched man to blame.
Before the world, I suffered open shame,
Where people were, as thicke as is the sand,
I pennance tooke, with taper in my hand.
And many moe, that were to long to name:
But most of all and in most woefull wise,
I had good cause, this wrtched man to blame.
Before the world, I suffered open shame,
Where people were, as thicke as is the sand,
I pennance tooke, with taper in my hand.
Each eye did stare, and looke me in the face,
As I past by, the rumours on me ran,
But pacience then, had lent me such a grace,
My quiet lookes, were praisd of euery man:
The shamefast bloud, brought me such collour than,
That thousands sayde, that sawe my sober cheere,
It is great ruth, to see this woman heere.
As I past by, the rumours on me ran,
But pacience then, had lent me such a grace,
My quiet lookes, were praisd of euery man:
The shamefast bloud, brought me such collour than,
That thousands sayde, that sawe my sober cheere,
It is great ruth, to see this woman heere.
But what preuayld, the peoples pitie there?
This raging wolfe, would spare no guiltles blood.
Oh wicked wombe, that such ill fruit did beare,
Oh cursed earth, that yeeldeth forth such mud:
The hell consume, all things that did thee good,
The heauens shut, their gates against thy spreete,
The world tread downe, thy glory vnder feete.
This raging wolfe, would spare no guiltles blood.
Oh wicked wombe, that such ill fruit did beare,
Oh cursed earth, that yeeldeth forth such mud:
The hell consume, all things that did thee good,
The heauens shut, their gates against thy spreete,
The world tread downe, thy glory vnder feete.
142
I aske of God, a vengeance on thy bones,
Thy stinking corps, corrupts the aire I knowe:
Thy shamefull death no earthly wight bemones:
For in thy life, thy workes were hated so,
That euery man, did wish thy ouerthroe:
Wherefore I may, though parciall nowe I am,
Curse euery cause, whereof thy body came.
Thy stinking corps, corrupts the aire I knowe:
Thy shamefull death no earthly wight bemones:
For in thy life, thy workes were hated so,
That euery man, did wish thy ouerthroe:
Wherefore I may, though parciall nowe I am,
Curse euery cause, whereof thy body came.
Woe worth the man, that fathered such a childe,
Woe worth the howre, wherein thou wast begate:
Woe worth the brests, that haue the world begylde,
To norish thee, that all the worlde did hate,
Woe worth the Gods, that gaue thee such a fate,
To liue so long, that death deserude so oft,
Woe worth the chance, that set thee vp aloft.
Woe worth the howre, wherein thou wast begate:
Woe worth the brests, that haue the world begylde,
To norish thee, that all the worlde did hate,
Woe worth the Gods, that gaue thee such a fate,
To liue so long, that death deserude so oft,
Woe worth the chance, that set thee vp aloft.
Woe worth the day, the time the howre and all,
When subiects clapt the crowne on Richards head,
Woe worth the Lordes, that sat in sumptuous hall,
To honour him, that Princes blood so shead:
Woule God he had bin, boyld in scalding lead.
When he presumde, in brothers seat to sit,
Whose wretched rage, ruld all with wicked wit.
When subiects clapt the crowne on Richards head,
Woe worth the Lordes, that sat in sumptuous hall,
To honour him, that Princes blood so shead:
Woule God he had bin, boyld in scalding lead.
When he presumde, in brothers seat to sit,
Whose wretched rage, ruld all with wicked wit.
Yee Princes all, and rulers euer echone,
In punishment, beware of hatreds yre.
Before yee scourge, take heede, looke well thereon:
In wraths ill will, if malice kindle fyre,
Your harts will burne, in such a hote desyre,
That in those flames, the smoke shall dim your sight,
Yee shall forget, to ioyne your iustice right.
In punishment, beware of hatreds yre.
Before yee scourge, take heede, looke well thereon:
In wraths ill will, if malice kindle fyre,
Your harts will burne, in such a hote desyre,
That in those flames, the smoke shall dim your sight,
Yee shall forget, to ioyne your iustice right.
You should not iudge, till things be well descernd,
Your charge is still, to maintaine vpright lawes:
In conscience rules, yee should be throwly lernd,
Where clemencie, bids wrath and rashnes pause,
And further saith, strike not without a cause:
And when yee smite, doe it for iustice sake,
Then in good part, ech man your scourge will take.
Your charge is still, to maintaine vpright lawes:
In conscience rules, yee should be throwly lernd,
143
And further saith, strike not without a cause:
And when yee smite, doe it for iustice sake,
Then in good part, ech man your scourge will take.
If that such zeale, had moud this tyrants mind,
To make my plague, a warning for the rest,
I had smal cause, such fault in him to finde,
Such punishment, is vsed for the best:
But by ill will, and powre I was oprest,
He spoylde my goods, and left me bare and poore,
And caused me, to beg from dore to dore.
To make my plague, a warning for the rest,
I had smal cause, such fault in him to finde,
Such punishment, is vsed for the best:
But by ill will, and powre I was oprest,
He spoylde my goods, and left me bare and poore,
And caused me, to beg from dore to dore.
What fall was this, to come from Princes fare,
To watch for crumes, among the blind and lame?
When almes were delt, I had an hungry share,
Because I knewe, not how to aske for shame,
Till force and neede, had brought me in such frame,
Than starue I must, or learne to beg an almes,
With booke in hand, to say S. Dauids Psalmes.
To watch for crumes, among the blind and lame?
When almes were delt, I had an hungry share,
Because I knewe, not how to aske for shame,
Till force and neede, had brought me in such frame,
Than starue I must, or learne to beg an almes,
With booke in hand, to say S. Dauids Psalmes.
Where I was wont, the golden chaines to weare,
A payre of beads, about my necke was wound,
A linnen cloth, was lapt about my heare,
A ragged gowne, that trailed on the ground,
A dish that clapt, and gaue a heauie sound,
A staying staffe, and wallet therewithall,
I bare about, as witnesse of my fall,
A payre of beads, about my necke was wound,
A linnen cloth, was lapt about my heare,
A ragged gowne, that trailed on the ground,
A dish that clapt, and gaue a heauie sound,
A staying staffe, and wallet therewithall,
I bare about, as witnesse of my fall,
The fall of leafe, is nothing like the spring,
Ech eye beholdes the rising of the sunne,
All men admire the fauour of a King,
And from great states, growne in disgrace they run,
Such sodaine claps, ne wit nor will can shun:
For when the stoole, is taken from our feete,
Full flat on floore, the body falls in streete.
Ech eye beholdes the rising of the sunne,
All men admire the fauour of a King,
And from great states, growne in disgrace they run,
Such sodaine claps, ne wit nor will can shun:
For when the stoole, is taken from our feete,
144
I had no house, wherein to hide my heade,
The open streete, my lodging was perforce,
Full oft I went, all hungry to my bed,
My flesh consumde, I looked like a corse.
Yet in that plight, who had on me remorse?
O God thou knowste, my friends forsooke me than,
Not one holpe me, that succred many a man.
The open streete, my lodging was perforce,
Full oft I went, all hungry to my bed,
My flesh consumde, I looked like a corse.
Yet in that plight, who had on me remorse?
O God thou knowste, my friends forsooke me than,
Not one holpe me, that succred many a man.
They frownd on me, that fawnd on me before,
And fled from me, that followed me full fast:
They hated me, by whome I set much store,
They knewe full well, my Fortune did not last.
In euery place, I was condemnde and cast,
To pleade my cause, at bar it was no boote,
For euery man, did treade me vnder foote.
And fled from me, that followed me full fast:
They hated me, by whome I set much store,
They knewe full well, my Fortune did not last.
In euery place, I was condemnde and cast,
To pleade my cause, at bar it was no boote,
For euery man, did treade me vnder foote.
Thus long I liud, all weary of my life,
Till death approcht, and rid me from that woe:
Example take, by me both maide and wife,
Beware, take heede, fall not to folly so.
A Mirrour make, by my great ouerthroe,
Defye the world, and all his wanton wayes,
Beware by me, that spent so ill her dayes.
Till death approcht, and rid me from that woe:
Example take, by me both maide and wife,
Beware, take heede, fall not to folly so.
A Mirrour make, by my great ouerthroe,
Defye the world, and all his wanton wayes,
Beware by me, that spent so ill her dayes.
T. Churchyard.
A Story of an Eagle and a Lady, excellently set out in Du Bartas.
Mount
Eagle vp, with fame and honour great,
By Pellycan, that feedes her young with blood,
(Of her owne brest), make thou thy noble seat:
Thy vertues doe, surmount all worldly good.
No bird but one, which is a Phenix rare,
Doth thee surpasse, or may with thee compare.
By Pellycan, that feedes her young with blood,
(Of her owne brest), make thou thy noble seat:
Thy vertues doe, surmount all worldly good.
145
Doth thee surpasse, or may with thee compare.
The Story.
A Lady once, in Thracia as we read,
Two Eagles found, newe hatched in their neast,
The one she tooke, and did that bird so feede,
(And kept it warme, amid her tender brest),
Tha[illeg.] as this dame, fell sicke vpon a day,
This Eagle flue, abroad to get his pray.
Two Eagles found, newe hatched in their neast,
The one she tooke, and did that bird so feede,
(And kept it warme, amid her tender brest),
Tha[illeg.] as this dame, fell sicke vpon a day,
This Eagle flue, abroad to get his pray.
And what so ere, this Eagle kild in field,
He brought it home, as choycely as he might:
At mistresse foote, the pray then would he yeelde,
Who mused much, to see so strange a sight.
But mistresse health, by this might not be had,
Which daily made, the Eagle wonderous sad.
He brought it home, as choycely as he might:
At mistresse foote, the pray then would he yeelde,
Who mused much, to see so strange a sight.
But mistresse health, by this might not be had,
Which daily made, the Eagle wonderous sad.
But still he flue, to field for dainty fare,
To feede this dame, that long a dying lay:
And when the bird, saw house so full of care,
For mistresse death, whose life was past away.
Upon the bed, he sat and bowd his beake,
Downe to the flore, to heare his mistresse speake.
To feede this dame, that long a dying lay:
And when the bird, saw house so full of care,
For mistresse death, whose life was past away.
Upon the bed, he sat and bowd his beake,
Downe to the flore, to heare his mistresse speake.
Oft would he kisse, her mouth as colde as stone,
And spread his winges, abroad to warme her face:
And in his kind, he made such heauy mone,
As man for wife, may doe in such a case.
But when no life, in mistresse might be found,
With his owne beake, himselfe he gan to wound.
And spread his winges, abroad to warme her face:
And in his kind, he made such heauy mone,
As man for wife, may doe in such a case.
But when no life, in mistresse might be found,
With his owne beake, himselfe he gan to wound.
Brusd all his brest, and body euery where,
Pluckt feathers off, and flung them flat on flore,
Bled out of frame, and did his flesh so teare:
That he could not, no way flye out of dore.
Would take no foode, nor rest, but growling lay;
By bare bedstocke, halfe dead full many a day.
Pluckt feathers off, and flung them flat on flore,
Bled out of frame, and did his flesh so teare:
That he could not, no way flye out of dore.
146
By bare bedstocke, halfe dead full many a day.
At length her corse, a funerall must haue,
Where mistresse must, be burnd as was the gyse,
The Eagle then, did follow her to graue:
And vnder winge, did mount aloft in skyes.
And when in fire, was cast this noble dame,
The Eagle flung, himselfe amid the flame.
Where mistresse must, be burnd as was the gyse,
The Eagle then, did follow her to graue:
And vnder winge, did mount aloft in skyes.
And when in fire, was cast this noble dame,
The Eagle flung, himselfe amid the flame.
With pikes and staues, the people held him backe,
That helpt no whit, the Eagle there would burne,
So bent to seeke, in fire his ruine and wracke,
Into the flame, againe he did returne:
Mount Eagle then, from dust and ashes heere,
Unto the clouds, where vertue shineth cleere.
That helpt no whit, the Eagle there would burne,
So bent to seeke, in fire his ruine and wracke,
Into the flame, againe he did returne:
Mount Eagle then, from dust and ashes heere,
Unto the clouds, where vertue shineth cleere.
A TRAGICAL DISCOVRSE OF THE Haplesse mans life.
TO THE HONOVRABLE MY LADIE
Carie. Sir George Caries wife, one of the Ladies of the priuie chamber.
147
Come
Courties al, draw neere my morning hers,
Come heare my knell, ere corse to church shal goe,
Or at the least, come read this woefull verse:
And last farwell, the haples penneth so,
And such as doth his life, and manners kno,
Come shed some teares, and see him painted out,
That restles here, did wander world about.
Come heare my knell, ere corse to church shal goe,
Or at the least, come read this woefull verse:
And last farwell, the haples penneth so,
And such as doth his life, and manners kno,
Come shed some teares, and see him painted out,
That restles here, did wander world about.
O pilgrimes poore, presse neere my pagent nowe,
And note ful wel the part that I haue playd,
And wisely waye, my thriftles Fortune throwe,
And print in brest, ech word that heere is said:
Shrinke not my friends, step forth stand not, afrayd
Though monstrous hap, I daily heere possest,
Some sweeter chaunce, may bring your hearts to rest.
And note ful wel the part that I haue playd,
And wisely waye, my thriftles Fortune throwe,
148
Shrinke not my friends, step forth stand not, afrayd
Though monstrous hap, I daily heere possest,
Some sweeter chaunce, may bring your hearts to rest.
For though the wretch, in cold and hunger lies,
The happie wight, in pompe and pleasure sits,
The weake falls downe, where mightie folke aries:
The sound feeles not, the feeble ague fits.
So world you wot, doth serue the finest wits,
The wise at will, can walke where shins the Sun
And to the streame and floud ech fish will run.
The happie wight, in pompe and pleasure sits,
The weake falls downe, where mightie folke aries:
The sound feeles not, the feeble ague fits.
So world you wot, doth serue the finest wits,
The wise at will, can walke where shins the Sun
And to the streame and floud ech fish will run.
And hap falles not, to euery man a like,
Some sleepes full sound, yet hath the world at call,
Some leapes the hedge, some lights amid the dike:
Some sucks the sweat, and some the bitter gall,
The vse of things, blynd destnie giues vs all.
So though you see, ten thousand soules in hell,
Yet may you hope, in heauens blisse to dwell.
Some sleepes full sound, yet hath the world at call,
Some leapes the hedge, some lights amid the dike:
Some sucks the sweat, and some the bitter gall,
The vse of things, blynd destnie giues vs all.
So though you see, ten thousand soules in hell,
Yet may you hope, in heauens blisse to dwell.
Let my mishap, a worldly wonder be,
For few can finde, the fruit that I did tast,
Ne leaues nor bowes, I found vpon the tree:
And where I ploud, the Ground lay euer wast.
A man would thinke, the child was borne in hast:
Or out of time, that had such lucke as I,
For loe I looke, for Larkes when falles the skye.
For few can finde, the fruit that I did tast,
Ne leaues nor bowes, I found vpon the tree:
And where I ploud, the Ground lay euer wast.
A man would thinke, the child was borne in hast:
Or out of time, that had such lucke as I,
For loe I looke, for Larkes when falles the skye.
No soyle nor seat, nor season serues my turne,
Ech plot is sowne, with sorowe where I goe,
On mountaine top, they say where torch should burn
I find but smoke, and lothsome smothring woe,
Neere Fountaine head, where springs doe daily floe:
Cold yse I get, that melts with warmth of hand,
So that I starue, where Cocke and Cundits stand.
Ech plot is sowne, with sorowe where I goe,
On mountaine top, they say where torch should burn
I find but smoke, and lothsome smothring woe,
Neere Fountaine head, where springs doe daily floe:
Cold yse I get, that melts with warmth of hand,
149
I quench small thirst, where thousands drinke & bib,
An empty cup I carry cleane away,
And though as leane, as rake is euery rib
And hollow cheekes, doth hidden griefe bewray,
The riche eats all, the poore may fast and pray:
No butter cleaus, vpon my bread at neede,
When hungry maw, thinkes throate is cut indeede.
An empty cup I carry cleane away,
And though as leane, as rake is euery rib
And hollow cheekes, doth hidden griefe bewray,
The riche eats all, the poore may fast and pray:
No butter cleaus, vpon my bread at neede,
When hungry maw, thinkes throate is cut indeede.
The shallow brokes, where little fishe are found,
I shun, and seeke, the Seas to swym thereon,
Yet vesssayle sinkes, or barke is layd a ground,
Where leaking ships, in safety still haue gone:
The harbour finde, when hauen haue I none,
Hap calles them in, when I am logde at large,
Thus plainnes creepes, in cold cocke Lorels barge.
I shun, and seeke, the Seas to swym thereon,
Yet vesssayle sinkes, or barke is layd a ground,
Where leaking ships, in safety still haue gone:
The harbour finde, when hauen haue I none,
Hap calles them in, when I am logde at large,
Thus plainnes creepes, in cold cocke Lorels barge.
Full fifety yeeres, both Court and warres I tride,
And still I sought acquaintance with the best,
And serud the state, and did such hap abide,
As might befall, and Fortune sent the rest,
When drum did sound, a souldier was I prest,
To Sea or Land, as Princes quarrell stoode.
And for the same, full oft I lost my bloud.
And still I sought acquaintance with the best,
And serud the state, and did such hap abide,
As might befall, and Fortune sent the rest,
When drum did sound, a souldier was I prest,
To Sea or Land, as Princes quarrell stoode.
And for the same, full oft I lost my bloud.
In Scotland long, I lingered out my yeeres,
When Wilford liud, a worthy wight indeede:
And there at length, I fell so far in briers,
I taken was, as destny had decreede
Well yet with wordes, I did my foes so feede.
That there I liud, in pleasure many aday,
And scapte so free, I did no ransome pay.
When Wilford liud, a worthy wight indeede:
And there at length, I fell so far in briers,
I taken was, as destny had decreede
Well yet with wordes, I did my foes so feede.
That there I liud, in pleasure many aday,
And scapte so free, I did no ransome pay.
Some said I found, in Scotland fauour then,
I graunt my pomp, was more than reason would
Yet on my band, I sent home sundry men
That els had pynd, in prison pincht with cold,
To French, and scots, so faire a tale I told,
That they beleeud, white chalke and cheese was one,
And it was pearle, that proud but pible stone.
150
Yet on my band, I sent home sundry men
That els had pynd, in prison pincht with cold,
To French, and scots, so faire a tale I told,
That they beleeud, white chalke and cheese was one,
And it was pearle, that proud but pible stone.
In Lawther fort, I clapt my selfe by sleight,
So fled from foes, and home to friends I past:
The French in hast, beseegd that fortresse streight,
Then was I like to light in fetters fast,
But loe a peace, broke vp the seege at last.
When weary warres, and wicked bloudshed great,
Made both the sides, to seeke a quiet seat.
So fled from foes, and home to friends I past:
The French in hast, beseegd that fortresse streight,
Then was I like to light in fetters fast,
But loe a peace, broke vp the seege at last.
When weary warres, and wicked bloudshed great,
Made both the sides, to seeke a quiet seat.
From thence I came, to England as I might,
And after that, to Irland I did saile,
Where Sellenger, a wise and Noble Knight.
Gaue me such place, as was to mine auaile,
Then [illeg.] walkt as thich as doth the hayle,
About the world, for loe from thence I bore,
(For seruice done), of money right good store.
And after that, to Irland I did saile,
Where Sellenger, a wise and Noble Knight.
Gaue me such place, as was to mine auaile,
Then [illeg.] walkt as thich as doth the hayle,
About the world, for loe from thence I bore,
(For seruice done), of money right good store.
Home came I thoe, and so to France did fare,
When that their King, wan Meatts through fatchis fine,
So on the stocke, I spent al voide of care,
And what I gate. by spoyle I held it mine,
Than downe I past, the pleasaunt floud of Ryen,
And so I serud, in Flanders note the same,
Where loe at first, my hap fell out of frame.
When that their King, wan Meatts through fatchis fine,
So on the stocke, I spent al voide of care,
And what I gate. by spoyle I held it mine,
Than downe I past, the pleasaunt floud of Ryen,
And so I serud, in Flanders note the same,
Where loe at first, my hap fell out of frame.
For I was clapt, in prison without cause,
And streightly held, for comming out of France,
But God did worke, through iustice of the cause,
And helpe of friends, to me a better chaunce,
And still I hopte, the warres would me aduance
So trayld the pike, and world began a newe,
And lookt like hauke, that lately came from mue.
And streightly held, for comming out of France,
But God did worke, through iustice of the cause,
And helpe of friends, to me a better chaunce,
151
So trayld the pike, and world began a newe,
And lookt like hauke, that lately came from mue.
Three yeere at least, I saw the Emprours warres,
Then homeward drewe, as was my wonted trade:
Where Sun and Moone, and al the seuen starres,
Stode on my side, and me great welcome made,
But whether fayre, and flowres full soone wil fade:
So peoples loue, is like new besomes oft,
That sweepes all cleane, whiles brome is greene and soft.
Then homeward drewe, as was my wonted trade:
Where Sun and Moone, and al the seuen starres,
Stode on my side, and me great welcome made,
But whether fayre, and flowres full soone wil fade:
So peoples loue, is like new besomes oft,
That sweepes all cleane, whiles brome is greene and soft.
Well once againe, to warres I drew me fast,
And with Lord Gray at Giens I did remaine,
Where he or his, in any seruice past,
I followed on, amyd the warlike traine,
And sometime felt, my part of woe and paine:
As others did, that Canon wel could like
And pleasure tooke, in trayling of the pike.
And with Lord Gray at Giens I did remaine,
Where he or his, in any seruice past,
I followed on, amyd the warlike traine,
And sometime felt, my part of woe and paine:
As others did, that Canon wel could like
And pleasure tooke, in trayling of the pike.
At length the French, did Giens beseege ye wot,
And little helpe or succour found we thoe,
By which foule want, it was my heauy lot:
To Paris streight with good Lord Gray to goe,
As prisoners both, the world to wel doth knoe,
By tract of time, and wonders charge indeede,
He homeward went, and tooke his leaue with speede.
And little helpe or succour found we thoe,
By which foule want, it was my heauy lot:
To Paris streight with good Lord Gray to goe,
As prisoners both, the world to wel doth knoe,
By tract of time, and wonders charge indeede,
He homeward went, and tooke his leaue with speede.
But post alone, I stoode alacke the while,
And country cleane, forgot me this is true,
And I might liue, in sorrow and exile.
And pine away, for any thing I knewe,
As I had bakt, indeede so might I brue:
Not one at home, did seeke my griefe to heale,
Thus was I cleane cut of from common weale.
And country cleane, forgot me this is true,
And I might liue, in sorrow and exile.
And pine away, for any thing I knewe,
As I had bakt, indeede so might I brue:
Not one at home, did seeke my griefe to heale,
Thus was I cleane cut of from common weale.
152
Yet loe a shift, to skape away I found,
When to my faith, my taker gaue no trust,
I did deuise, in writing to be bound:
To come againe, the time was set full iust,
But to returne forsoth I had no lust,
Since faith could get no credit at his hand,
I sent him word, to come and sue my band.
When to my faith, my taker gaue no trust,
I did deuise, in writing to be bound:
To come againe, the time was set full iust,
But to returne forsoth I had no lust,
Since faith could get no credit at his hand,
I sent him word, to come and sue my band.
He came himselfe, to court as I did heare,
And told his tale, as finely as he might,
At Ragland then, was I in Monmouth shiere.
Yet when in court, this matter came to light:
My friends did say, that I had done him right,
A Souldier ought vpon his faith to go,
Which I had kept, if he had sent me so.
And told his tale, as finely as he might,
At Ragland then, was I in Monmouth shiere.
Yet when in court, this matter came to light:
My friends did say, that I had done him right,
A Souldier ought vpon his faith to go,
Which I had kept, if he had sent me so.
Well yet my mind, could neuer rest at home,
My shoes were made, of running leather sure,
And borne I was, about the world to rome,
To see the warres, and keepe my hand in vre:
The French ye knowe, did Englishmen procure,
To come to Leeth, at seege whereof I was,
Till French did seeke, in ships away to passe.
My shoes were made, of running leather sure,
And borne I was, about the world to rome,
To see the warres, and keepe my hand in vre:
The French ye knowe, did Englishmen procure,
To come to Leeth, at seege whereof I was,
Till French did seeke, in ships away to passe.
A little breath, I toke then after this,
And shapte my selfe, about the Court to be,
And euery day, as right and reason is,
To serue the Prince, in Court I settled me:
Some friends I found, as friends doe goe you see,
That gaue me words, as sweete as hony still,
Yet let me liue, by head and cunning skill.
And shapte my selfe, about the Court to be,
And euery day, as right and reason is,
To serue the Prince, in Court I settled me:
Some friends I found, as friends doe goe you see,
That gaue me words, as sweete as hony still,
Yet let me liue, by head and cunning skill.
I crucht, I kneeld, and many a cap could vayle,
And watched late, and early rose at morne,
And with the throng, I followed hard at tayle:
As braue as bull, or sheepe but newly shorne,
The gladest man, that euer yet was borne,
To wayt and stare, among the states full hye:
Who feedes the poore, with many a friendly eye.
And watched late, and early rose at morne,
And with the throng, I followed hard at tayle:
153
The gladest man, that euer yet was borne,
To wayt and stare, among the states full hye:
Who feedes the poore, with many a friendly eye.
But who can liue, with goodly lookes alone,
Or merry words, that sounds like tabers pype,
Say what they will, they loue to keepe their owne:
And part with nought, that commeth in their gripe,
You shall haue Nuts, they say when ploms are ripe.
Thus all with shalls, or shalles ye shal be fed,
And gape for gold, and want both Gold and lead.
Or merry words, that sounds like tabers pype,
Say what they will, they loue to keepe their owne:
And part with nought, that commeth in their gripe,
You shall haue Nuts, they say when ploms are ripe.
Thus all with shalls, or shalles ye shal be fed,
And gape for gold, and want both Gold and lead.
The proof thereof, made me to seeke far hence,
To Anwerp then, I trudged on the spleene
And all in hast to get some spending pence,
To serue my turne, in seruice of the Queene:
But God he knowes, my gaine was smal I weene.
For though I did my credit still encrease,
I got no wealth, by warres, ne yet by peace.
To Anwerp then, I trudged on the spleene
And all in hast to get some spending pence,
To serue my turne, in seruice of the Queene:
But God he knowes, my gaine was smal I weene.
For though I did my credit still encrease,
I got no wealth, by warres, ne yet by peace.
Yet harke and note, I pray you if you please,
In Anwerp towne, what Fortune me befel:
My chance was such, when I had past the seas,
(And taken land and thereon rested wel)
The people iard, and range a larum bel,
So that in armes, the towne was euery where,
And few or none, of life stood certaine there.
In Anwerp towne, what Fortune me befel:
My chance was such, when I had past the seas,
(And taken land and thereon rested wel)
The people iard, and range a larum bel,
So that in armes, the towne was euery where,
And few or none, of life stood certaine there.
A Noble Prince I saw, amid that broyle,
To whome I went, and sware his part to take,
The commons came, al set on rage and spoyle,
And gaue me charge, to keepe my wits awake:
The Prince for loue, of King and countries sake.
Bad me doe wel, and shed no guyltles bloud,
And saue from spoyle, poore people and their good.
To whome I went, and sware his part to take,
The commons came, al set on rage and spoyle,
And gaue me charge, to keepe my wits awake:
The Prince for loue, of King and countries sake.
Bad me doe wel, and shed no guyltles bloud,
154
I gaue my fayth, and hand to doe the same.
And wrought the best, that I could worke therefore:
And brought at length, the commons in such frame,
That some were bent to blow the cole no more,
Yet some to rage, and robbery ran full sore:
Whome I reformde, so that no harme did fall,
To any wight, among the commons all.
And wrought the best, that I could worke therefore:
And brought at length, the commons in such frame,
That some were bent to blow the cole no more,
Yet some to rage, and robbery ran full sore:
Whome I reformde, so that no harme did fall,
To any wight, among the commons all.
The keyes I had, of towne and treasure both,
And Captaine was, of thousands three daies than,
And ruled all, our foes to tell you troth,
And saud indeed, the life of many a man.
And many a peece, of goodly ordinance wan:
Tooke prisoners two, and of the brauest sort,
I clapt in hold, and held the enemies short.
And Captaine was, of thousands three daies than,
And ruled all, our foes to tell you troth,
And saud indeed, the life of many a man.
And many a peece, of goodly ordinance wan:
Tooke prisoners two, and of the brauest sort,
I clapt in hold, and held the enemies short.
Fiue thousand shot, I sent behind their backes,
To dant their pryde, and plucke their courage downe,
And quicke with speede, deuisd such cunning knackes.
As in three howres, we conquerd all the towne.
The enemies durst, no drum nor trumphet sowne,
For feare of blowes, for such a campe they sawe,
In armes at hand, that held them all in awe,
To dant their pryde, and plucke their courage downe,
And quicke with speede, deuisd such cunning knackes.
As in three howres, we conquerd all the towne.
The enemies durst, no drum nor trumphet sowne,
For feare of blowes, for such a campe they sawe,
In armes at hand, that held them all in awe,
The enemies drew, the Martinests from me,
By such false brute, as subtil people rayse:
The Caluenists, that did this trechery see,
Loud quicke dispatch, but hated long delayes.
They sawe the world, was wandring sundry wayes,
So bad me store, to stay the reeling state,
That soone would fall, and breed a strange debate.
By such false brute, as subtil people rayse:
The Caluenists, that did this trechery see,
Loud quicke dispatch, but hated long delayes.
They sawe the world, was wandring sundry wayes,
So bad me store, to stay the reeling state,
That soone would fall, and breed a strange debate.
Ten thousand men, by this deuise we lost,
But ere they could make head against vs there,
We housd them all, and to the Prince in post,
I past to put, the people in such feare,
That we in hast, vnarmd them euery where,
Then did we march, with fifteene thousand more,
Along the streetes, and thankt the Lord therefore.
155
We housd them all, and to the Prince in post,
I past to put, the people in such feare,
That we in hast, vnarmd them euery where,
Then did we march, with fifteene thousand more,
Along the streetes, and thankt the Lord therefore.
Ech man in peace, and safe in lodging so,
The gospell free and preachers well at ease,
To England streight, indeede I thought to goe
When this vprore, with peace I did appease.
In surety so, I could not passe the seas,
A drift was drawne, to take me in a trap,
But God prepard, for me a better hap.
The gospell free and preachers well at ease,
To England streight, indeede I thought to goe
When this vprore, with peace I did appease.
In surety so, I could not passe the seas,
A drift was drawne, to take me in a trap,
But God prepard, for me a better hap.
In streete we stoode, and brake ne huose nor dore,
And for three dayes, made no mans finger bleed:
I dare auouch, that neither rich or poore.
Could say they lost the valour of a threede,
Well what of that, you know an honest deed,
Is soone forgot, of such as thankles be,
For in the end, it fared so by me.
And for three dayes, made no mans finger bleed:
I dare auouch, that neither rich or poore.
Could say they lost the valour of a threede,
Well what of that, you know an honest deed,
Is soone forgot, of such as thankles be,
For in the end, it fared so by me.
The towne I kept, from cruell sword and fire,
Did seeke my life, when peace and all was made,
And such they were, that did my bloud desire:
As I had saude, from blowes and bloudy blade,
I crept away, and hide me in the shade,
But as the day, and Sun began to shine,
They followed fast, with force and practize fine.
Did seeke my life, when peace and all was made,
And such they were, that did my bloud desire:
As I had saude, from blowes and bloudy blade,
I crept away, and hide me in the shade,
But as the day, and Sun began to shine,
They followed fast, with force and practize fine.
In priests atyre, but not with shauen crowne.
I scapte their hands, that sought to haue my head,
In forckid cap, and pleycted curtal gowne:
Far from the Church, stode me in right good stead.
In al this while, ne masse for quicke nor dead,
I durst not sing, a posting priest I was,
That did in hast, from post to piller passe.
I scapte their hands, that sought to haue my head,
In forckid cap, and pleycted curtal gowne:
156
In al this while, ne masse for quicke nor dead,
I durst not sing, a posting priest I was,
That did in hast, from post to piller passe.
In Briges then, the persons breatch did quake,
For there a clarke, came tinging of a Bell,
(That in the towne, did such a rumbling make)
I could not walke, in vickars garments well:
So there I wisht my selfe in cockle shel,
Or sea man sloppes, that smeld of pitch and far,
Which robes I found, ere I had traueld far.
For there a clarke, came tinging of a Bell,
(That in the towne, did such a rumbling make)
I could not walke, in vickars garments well:
So there I wisht my selfe in cockle shel,
Or sea man sloppes, that smeld of pitch and far,
Which robes I found, ere I had traueld far.
A Marshall came, and searcht our whole fleete than,
In boate I leapt, and so through Sealand went,
And many a day a silly weary man:
I traueld there, and stode with toyle content,
Til God by grace, a better Fortune sent.
And brought me home in safety as you knoe,
Great thankes to him, I giue that serude me so.
In boate I leapt, and so through Sealand went,
And many a day a silly weary man:
I traueld there, and stode with toyle content,
Til God by grace, a better Fortune sent.
And brought me home in safety as you knoe,
Great thankes to him, I giue that serude me so.
In Court where I, at rest and peace remainde,
I thought vpon, the part that Flemings plaide,
And for goodwil, since I was so retainde:
I thought to make, those roysters once afraid,
So hoist vp sayle when I had anker waid,
And into France, I slipt with much adoe,
Where loe a Net, was making for me to.
I thought vpon, the part that Flemings plaide,
And for goodwil, since I was so retainde:
I thought to make, those roysters once afraid,
So hoist vp sayle when I had anker waid,
And into France, I slipt with much adoe,
Where loe a Net, was making for me to.
Yet past I through, to Paris without stop,
When ciuile broyles were likely to begin,
And standing there, within a merchants shop,
I heard one say the Prince was comming in,
To Flaunders fast, with whome I late had bin,
Before you wot, thus hauing merry newes,
I stole away, and so did France refuse.
When ciuile broyles were likely to begin,
And standing there, within a merchants shop,
I heard one say the Prince was comming in,
To Flaunders fast, with whome I late had bin,
Before you wot, thus hauing merry newes,
157
But by your leaue, I fell in daunger deepe,
Before I could in freedome goe or ride,
Deuouring Wolues, had like to slaine the sheepe:
And wipte their mouthes, vpon the muttons hide.
Nought goes amisse, where God wil be the guide,
So through the place, where perril most did seeme,
I past at will, when danger was extreme.
Before I could in freedome goe or ride,
Deuouring Wolues, had like to slaine the sheepe:
And wipte their mouthes, vpon the muttons hide.
Nought goes amisse, where God wil be the guide,
So through the place, where perril most did seeme,
I past at will, when danger was extreme.
The Prince I found, from Collen at his house,
And there I saw, of Roitters right good store,
Who welcomde me, with many a mad carouse:
Such is their gise, and hath bin euermore,
To Flaunders thus, we marcht and God before,
And neare the Rhine, our Campe a season lay,
Till money came, and had a generall pay.
And there I saw, of Roitters right good store,
Who welcomde me, with many a mad carouse:
Such is their gise, and hath bin euermore,
To Flaunders thus, we marcht and God before,
And neare the Rhine, our Campe a season lay,
Till money came, and had a generall pay.
In Flaunders long, our Campe remained still,
And sweete with sowre, we tasted sundry wayes
Who goes to warres, must feele both good and ill
Some likes it not, and some that life can prayes
Where nightes are cold, and many hungry dayes
Some will not be, yet such as loues the drom
Takes in good part, the chaunces as they com.
And sweete with sowre, we tasted sundry wayes
Who goes to warres, must feele both good and ill
Some likes it not, and some that life can prayes
Where nightes are cold, and many hungry dayes
Some will not be, yet such as loues the drom
Takes in good part, the chaunces as they com.
Perhaps my share, was not the sweetest there,
I make no bost, nor finde no fault therein:
I sought my selfe, the burthen for to beare,
Among the rest, that had ore charged bin.
If smart I felt, it was a plague for sin,
If ioy I found, I knewe it would not last,
If wealth I had, so wast came on as fast,
I make no bost, nor finde no fault therein:
I sought my selfe, the burthen for to beare,
Among the rest, that had ore charged bin.
If smart I felt, it was a plague for sin,
If ioy I found, I knewe it would not last,
If wealth I had, so wast came on as fast,
When Prince did passe, to France and Flaunders last,
I licence sought, to see my natiue soile,
He told me than, the French by some fine craft:
On me at lenght would make a pray and spoyle,
I tooke my leaue, not fearing any foyle.
But ere the day, the skie had cleane forsooke,
I fell in snare, as fish on baited hoke.
158
He told me than, the French by some fine craft:
On me at lenght would make a pray and spoyle,
I tooke my leaue, not fearing any foyle.
But ere the day, the skie had cleane forsooke,
I fell in snare, as fish on baited hoke.
A woefull tale, it is to tell indeed,
Yet heare it out, and how God wrought for me,
The case was such, that I a gide did neede,
So in the field, full neare a willow tree.
I found a carle, that needes my guide must be
His hand I had, his heart did halt the while,
And treason did, through trust the true beguyle.
Yet heare it out, and how God wrought for me,
The case was such, that I a gide did neede,
So in the field, full neare a willow tree.
I found a carle, that needes my guide must be
His hand I had, his heart did halt the while,
And treason did, through trust the true beguyle.
We held the way, vnto S. Quintance right,
As I did thinke, but long two leagues I lost,
To ease my horse, he had me oft a light:
But I thereat, seemd dumme and deaffe as post,
Of stomacke stout, the way oftimes he crost:
And sought to take, my bridle by the raine,
That sleight I found, and so he lost his paine.
As I did thinke, but long two leagues I lost,
To ease my horse, he had me oft a light:
But I thereat, seemd dumme and deaffe as post,
Of stomacke stout, the way oftimes he crost:
And sought to take, my bridle by the raine,
That sleight I found, and so he lost his paine.
Had I turnd backe, the pesants were at hand
Who mounted were, on better horse than I,
A village neere, there was within that land:
Where loe my guide, would haue me for to lye.
Not so my friend, I answerde very hie,
Whereat he knewe, the pad in straw was found,
So tooke the ball, and stroke it at rebound:
Who mounted were, on better horse than I,
A village neere, there was within that land:
Where loe my guide, would haue me for to lye.
Not so my friend, I answerde very hie,
Whereat he knewe, the pad in straw was found,
So tooke the ball, and stroke it at rebound:
Thou canst not scape, (quoth he) then light a downe,
Thou art but dead, thy lyfe here shalt thou lose,
And there withall, the carle began to frowne:
And laid his hand, vpon my leather hose.
Through signes he made, the towne by this arose,
And some by warres, that lately lost their good,
Sought to reuenge the same vpon my blood.
Thou art but dead, thy lyfe here shalt thou lose,
And there withall, the carle began to frowne:
And laid his hand, vpon my leather hose.
159
And some by warres, that lately lost their good,
Sought to reuenge the same vpon my blood.
My guide leapt vp, vpon the horse I rode,
And flang away, as fast as he could driue:
Downe was I halde, and on my face they trode,
And for my robes, the tormenters did striue.
My guide did crie, O leaue him not aliue:
An English churle, he is his tongue doth showe,
And gold he hath good store, ful wel I know.
And flang away, as fast as he could driue:
Downe was I halde, and on my face they trode,
And for my robes, the tormenters did striue.
My guide did crie, O leaue him not aliue:
An English churle, he is his tongue doth showe,
And gold he hath good store, ful wel I know.
They stript me streight, from dublet to my shurt,
Yet hose they left, vntoucht as God it would
No power they had, to doe me further hurt:
For as the Knife, to throate they gan to hold.
To saue my life, an vpright tale I told,
They hearing that, laid all their weapons downe,
And askt me if, I knewe saint Quintains towne.
Yet hose they left, vntoucht as God it would
No power they had, to doe me further hurt:
For as the Knife, to throate they gan to hold.
To saue my life, an vpright tale I told,
They hearing that, laid all their weapons downe,
And askt me if, I knewe saint Quintains towne.
I past therby, when to the Spawe I went,
(Quoth I) and there, my pasport well was viewd,
If that be true, said one thou shalt be sent:
From thence in hast, and so they did conclude.
To towne I should, from sauage countrey rude,
So in they hey, they laid me all that night,
Yet sought my life, before the day was light.
(Quoth I) and there, my pasport well was viewd,
If that be true, said one thou shalt be sent:
From thence in hast, and so they did conclude.
To towne I should, from sauage countrey rude,
So in they hey, they laid me all that night,
Yet sought my life, before the day was light.
But as with weedes, some suffrant flower groes,
So in that soile a blessed man was bred,
Which vndertooke, to keepe me from my foes:
And saue my life, by fine deuice of head.
He cald me vp, when they were in their bed,
And bad me goe, with him where he thought best,
Least in that place, full small should be my rest.
So in that soile a blessed man was bred,
Which vndertooke, to keepe me from my foes:
And saue my life, by fine deuice of head.
He cald me vp, when they were in their bed,
And bad me goe, with him where he thought best,
Least in that place, full small should be my rest.
160
I followed on, as he did lead the trace,
He brought me safe, where I in surety stood,
Thus God through him, did shewe his might and grace,
Which ioyde me more, than all this worldly good:
The other sort, were butchers al for bloud,
And daily slue, such stragglars as they tooke,
For whome they lay, and watcht in many a noke,
He brought me safe, where I in surety stood,
Thus God through him, did shewe his might and grace,
Which ioyde me more, than all this worldly good:
The other sort, were butchers al for bloud,
And daily slue, such stragglars as they tooke,
For whome they lay, and watcht in many a noke,
That hazard past, I found more mischieues still,
But none so great, nor none so much to feare:
With toyle and payne, with slight of head and skil
From Fraunce I came, (and left all mischief there)
Now heere what fruit, my natiue soyle doth beare,
See what I reape, and marke what I haue sowne:
And let my lucke, through all this Land bee knowne.
But none so great, nor none so much to feare:
With toyle and payne, with slight of head and skil
From Fraunce I came, (and left all mischief there)
Now heere what fruit, my natiue soyle doth beare,
See what I reape, and marke what I haue sowne:
And let my lucke, through all this Land bee knowne.
First let mee tell, how Fortune did mee call,
To Garnesey thoe, to staie my troubled minde:
Where well I was, although my wealth was small,
And long had dwelt, if destny had assignde,
But as the ship, is subiect to the winde,
So we must chaunge, as checking chaunces falls,
Who tosseth men, about like tennis balles.
To Garnesey thoe, to staie my troubled minde:
Where well I was, although my wealth was small,
And long had dwelt, if destny had assignde,
But as the ship, is subiect to the winde,
So we must chaunge, as checking chaunces falls,
Who tosseth men, about like tennis balles.
This chaunce is shee, some saie that leades men out,
And bringes them home, when least they looke therefore,
A dallying dame, that breedes both hope and doubt,
And makes great woundes, yet seldome salues the sore,
Not sure on sea, nor certaine on the shore,
A worldly witch, that deales with wanton charmes,
For one good turne, shee doth ten thousand harmes.
And bringes them home, when least they looke therefore,
A dallying dame, that breedes both hope and doubt,
And makes great woundes, yet seldome salues the sore,
Not sure on sea, nor certaine on the shore,
A worldly witch, that deales with wanton charmes,
For one good turne, shee doth ten thousand harmes.
A figge for chaunce, this Fortune beares no shape,
The people fond, a name to Fortune giue:
Which sencelesse soules, doe after shadowes gape,
Great GOD doth rule, and sure as God doth liue,
Hee grindes the Corne, and sifts the meale through siue,
And leaues the bran, as refues of the flowre,
To worke his will, and shew his mightie power.
The people fond, a name to Fortune giue:
Which sencelesse soules, doe after shadowes gape,
161
Hee grindes the Corne, and sifts the meale through siue,
And leaues the bran, as refues of the flowre,
To worke his will, and shew his mightie power.
Promotion comes, ne from the East nor West,
Ne South nor North, it fals from Heauen hie:
For God himselfe, sets vp whom hee thinkes best,
And casts them downe, whose hearts would climbe the skie.
Thus earthly haps, in wordlings doe not lie.
Wee trudge, wee run, we ride and breake our braine,
And backward come, the selfe same steps againe.
Ne South nor North, it fals from Heauen hie:
For God himselfe, sets vp whom hee thinkes best,
And casts them downe, whose hearts would climbe the skie.
Thus earthly haps, in wordlings doe not lie.
Wee trudge, wee run, we ride and breake our braine,
And backward come, the selfe same steps againe.
Till time approch, that God will man prefarre,
With labours long, in vaine we beat the ayre:
Our destnies dwell, in neyther moone nor starre,
Nor comfortes come, from people foule nor fayre,
Small hope in those, that sits in golden chayre.
Their moodes, their mindes, and all wee goe about,
Takes light from him, that puts our candle out.
With labours long, in vaine we beat the ayre:
Our destnies dwell, in neyther moone nor starre,
Nor comfortes come, from people foule nor fayre,
Small hope in those, that sits in golden chayre.
Their moodes, their mindes, and all wee goe about,
Takes light from him, that puts our candle out.
This argues now, all goodnesse freely groes,
From him that first, made man of earthly mold:
And floodes of wealth into their bosome floes,
That clearely can, his blessed will behold.
As sheapeheardes doe, keepe safe their sheepe in fold.
And Gardner knowes, how flowres should watred bee,
So God giues ayde, ere man the want can see.
From him that first, made man of earthly mold:
And floodes of wealth into their bosome floes,
That clearely can, his blessed will behold.
As sheapeheardes doe, keepe safe their sheepe in fold.
And Gardner knowes, how flowres should watred bee,
So God giues ayde, ere man the want can see.
Helpes comes not sure, by hap, or heads deuice,
Though wits of men, are meanes to worke the waxe:
And cunning handes, doe often cast the dice.
All these are toyes, trust vp in tinkars packes,
No flame will rise, till fire bee thrust to flaxe.
No braunch may bud, till he that made the plant,
With dew of grace, indeede supplies the want.
Though wits of men, are meanes to worke the waxe:
And cunning handes, doe often cast the dice.
All these are toyes, trust vp in tinkars packes,
No flame will rise, till fire bee thrust to flaxe.
No braunch may bud, till he that made the plant,
162
Can earth yeeld fruit, till Spring time sap doe shoe?
Can ayre be cleere, till fogges and mists be fled?
Can seas and flouds, at euery season floe?
Can men giue life, to shapes and bodies dead?
Such secrets passe, the reach of mans vaine head,
So looke to reape, no corne for all our toile,
Till haruest come, and God hath blest the soyle.
Can ayre be cleere, till fogges and mists be fled?
Can seas and flouds, at euery season floe?
Can men giue life, to shapes and bodies dead?
Such secrets passe, the reach of mans vaine head,
So looke to reape, no corne for all our toile,
Till haruest come, and God hath blest the soyle.
The potter knowes, what vessaile serues his turne,
And therein still, he powreth liquor sweete:
The Cooke wel notes, what wood is best to burne,
And what conceipts, is for the banket meete:
The Captaine markes, what Souldier hath most spreete.
And calles that man, to charge and office great,
When he thinkes good, and seruice is in heat.
And therein still, he powreth liquor sweete:
The Cooke wel notes, what wood is best to burne,
And what conceipts, is for the banket meete:
The Captaine markes, what Souldier hath most spreete.
And calles that man, to charge and office great,
When he thinkes good, and seruice is in heat.
Dare any wight, presume to take the place,
Of worthy charge, till he thereto be cald?
Dare subiect brag, before the Princes face?
Or striue with states, that are in honour stauld?
Dare village boast, with Citie strongly wauld?
Dare children clime, till they good footing finde,
No al things yeelds, to him that leads the mind.
Of worthy charge, till he thereto be cald?
Dare subiect brag, before the Princes face?
Or striue with states, that are in honour stauld?
Dare village boast, with Citie strongly wauld?
Dare children clime, till they good footing finde,
No al things yeelds, to him that leads the mind.
He lifts aloft, he flingeth downe as fast,
He giues men fame, and plucks renowne away,
Hap doth not so, for chaunce is but a blast,
An idle word, wherewith weake people play:
Hap hangs and holds, on hazard euery way,
And hazard leanes, on doubt and daunger deepe,
That glads but few, and maketh Millions weepe.
He giues men fame, and plucks renowne away,
Hap doth not so, for chaunce is but a blast,
An idle word, wherewith weake people play:
Hap hangs and holds, on hazard euery way,
And hazard leanes, on doubt and daunger deepe,
That glads but few, and maketh Millions weepe.
I vse this terme, of hap in all I write,
As well to make, the matter large and long,
As any cause, or dram of great delight
I take therein: But here I doe you wrong.
To lead your cares, with such a sencelesse song,
From hearing that, I promisd haue to ende,
The bare discourse, the haplesse man hath pend.
163
As any cause, or dram of great delight
I take therein: But here I doe you wrong.
To lead your cares, with such a sencelesse song,
From hearing that, I promisd haue to ende,
The bare discourse, the haplesse man hath pend.
So comming home, and crept from toyle abroad,
(With charged brest, and heauy heauing hart)
I thought in Court, my burthen to vnloade:
And cast away, the cares of former smart,
But there alas, my chaunce is so orethwart,
I sit and sighe, and fold mine armes withall,
And in old griefes, afresh begin to fal.
(With charged brest, and heauy heauing hart)
I thought in Court, my burthen to vnloade:
And cast away, the cares of former smart,
But there alas, my chaunce is so orethwart,
I sit and sighe, and fold mine armes withall,
And in old griefes, afresh begin to fal.
Yea there where most, my hope and haunt hath bin,
Where yeares and dayes, I spent vpon the stocke:
And diuers doe, good hap and frendship win.
(And duetie makes a World of people flocke)
And thousands Loe, drawes water from the Cocke,
I scearse may moyst, my mouth when thirst is great
And hart is cleane, consumde with scalding heat.
Where yeares and dayes, I spent vpon the stocke:
And diuers doe, good hap and frendship win.
(And duetie makes a World of people flocke)
And thousands Loe, drawes water from the Cocke,
I scearse may moyst, my mouth when thirst is great
And hart is cleane, consumde with scalding heat.
A spring of kind, doth floe aboue the brim,
Yet cannot stoppe a Fountaine if you would:
For through hard rockes, it runneth cleere and trim.
And in some Ground, it casts vp grayne of Gold,
It bursts the Earth, and deepely digges the Ground.
It gusheth out, and goes in sundry vaines,
From mountaines top, and spreadeth al the playnes.
Yet cannot stoppe a Fountaine if you would:
For through hard rockes, it runneth cleere and trim.
And in some Ground, it casts vp grayne of Gold,
It bursts the Earth, and deepely digges the Ground.
It gusheth out, and goes in sundry vaines,
From mountaines top, and spreadeth al the playnes.
The Spring creepes vp, the highest hil that is,
And many Wells, thereon are easly found,
And this I wot, where doe you water mis,
Small fruit doth grow, it is but barraine Ground
The soyle is sweete, where pleasaunt springes abound,
The Cowslop sproutes, where spring and fountaines bee,
And floodes beginne, from fountaine heades you see.
And many Wells, thereon are easly found,
And this I wot, where doe you water mis,
Small fruit doth grow, it is but barraine Ground
164
The Cowslop sproutes, where spring and fountaines bee,
And floodes beginne, from fountaine heades you see.
The laboring man, thereat doth cole his heat,
The birdes doe bathe, their breasts full brauely there:
The brutest beastes, therein find pleasures great,
And likes not halfe, so well another where,
What cause in mee, what doubt, what fault, or feare.
That I may not, in this so weake a plight:
Go drinke my fill, where ech thing hath delight.
The birdes doe bathe, their breasts full brauely there:
The brutest beastes, therein find pleasures great,
And likes not halfe, so well another where,
What cause in mee, what doubt, what fault, or feare.
That I may not, in this so weake a plight:
Go drinke my fill, where ech thing hath delight.
The more wee drawe, the water from the well,
The better farre, wee bring the spring in frame,
The seas themselues, of nature rise and swell,
The more the wind, and weather workes the same.
The fire burnes best, when bellowes blowes the flame.
Let thinges stand still, and stirre them not in time:
They shall decay, by meane of drosse and slime.
The better farre, wee bring the spring in frame,
The seas themselues, of nature rise and swell,
The more the wind, and weather workes the same.
The fire burnes best, when bellowes blowes the flame.
Let thinges stand still, and stirre them not in time:
They shall decay, by meane of drosse and slime.
I see some streames, with stickes are choked vp,
And Riuers large, are marde with beds of sande:
I see some bring, from Doels an emptie cup,
Yet craue an almes, and showes a needie hand.
I see bare boyes, before the banket stand,
And no man sayth, loe poore man if thou wut:
Take heere a dish, to fill thy hungrie gut.
And Riuers large, are marde with beds of sande:
I see some bring, from Doels an emptie cup,
Yet craue an almes, and showes a needie hand.
I see bare boyes, before the banket stand,
And no man sayth, loe poore man if thou wut:
Take heere a dish, to fill thy hungrie gut.
Of cormorant kind some crammed Capons are,
The more they eate, the more they may consume,
Some men likewise, the better that they fare,
The worse they bee, and sicker of the rume,
And some so chafe, so frowne, so fret, and fume,
When others feede, they cannot God hee knows:
Spare any time, the dropping of their nose.
The more they eate, the more they may consume,
Some men likewise, the better that they fare,
The worse they bee, and sicker of the rume,
And some so chafe, so frowne, so fret, and fume,
When others feede, they cannot God hee knows:
Spare any time, the dropping of their nose.
The bordes are spread, and feasts are made thereon,
And such sits downe, that hath their bellies full:
Whose greedy mouthes, from dogge would snatch the bone.
Which snudges swell, and looke like greiste wull:
They puffe, they blowe, yea like a bayted bull.
And shoue them backe, that on small crumes would feede,
Whose patient heartes, makes vertue of a neede.
And such sits downe, that hath their bellies full:
Whose greedy mouthes, from dogge would snatch the bone.
Which snudges swell, and looke like greiste wull:
165
And shoue them backe, that on small crumes would feede,
Whose patient heartes, makes vertue of a neede.
The Glutton thinkes, his belly is too small,
When in his eye, a dayntie morsell is:
Hee grines and gapes, as though no crum should fall
From him: and lookes as all the world were his.
Thus such as want, are sure the post to kis.
For poulting pride, doth presse so fast in place,
That poore plaine Tom, dare scarse come shew his face.
When in his eye, a dayntie morsell is:
Hee grines and gapes, as though no crum should fall
From him: and lookes as all the world were his.
Thus such as want, are sure the post to kis.
For poulting pride, doth presse so fast in place,
That poore plaine Tom, dare scarse come shew his face.
Ech one doth seeke, for to aspire and rise,
Yet hate wee those, that doth by vertue clime:
The foole hee scornes, the worship of the wise,
Yet dolts presume, beyond the wise sometime,
And all this strife, is but for drosse and slime.
That out of earth, we dig with daungers deepe:
Full hard to winne, and much more wordes to keepe.
Yet hate wee those, that doth by vertue clime:
The foole hee scornes, the worship of the wise,
Yet dolts presume, beyond the wise sometime,
And all this strife, is but for drosse and slime.
That out of earth, we dig with daungers deepe:
Full hard to winne, and much more wordes to keepe.
This makes me muse, when some haue heapes in hord,
They will not helpe, the neerest friend they haue:
And yet with smiles, and many a friendlie word,
They graunt to giue, before a man doe craue,
Such Barbors fine, can finely poule and shaue,
And wash full cleane till all away they wash:
Then good sir Grime, like lob they leaue in lash.
They will not helpe, the neerest friend they haue:
And yet with smiles, and many a friendlie word,
They graunt to giue, before a man doe craue,
Such Barbors fine, can finely poule and shaue,
And wash full cleane till all away they wash:
Then good sir Grime, like lob they leaue in lash.
What should men loose, when they enough haue had,
If that they part, with thinges that might be sparde?
A little peece, out of a golden gad,
For seruice long; might be a great reward,
No no as steele, and flint is stiffe and hard.
So World is waxt, and no good turne is found,
But where indeede, doe double gifts rebound.
If that they part, with thinges that might be sparde?
A little peece, out of a golden gad,
For seruice long; might be a great reward,
No no as steele, and flint is stiffe and hard.
So World is waxt, and no good turne is found,
But where indeede, doe double gifts rebound.
We make a legge, and kisse the hand withall,
(A French deuice, nay sure a Spanish tricke)
And speake in Print, and say loe at your call,
I will remaine, your owne both dead and quicke:
A Courtier so, can giue a lobbe a licke,
And dresse a dolt, in Motley for a while,
And so in sleeue, at silly Woodcocke smile,
(A French deuice, nay sure a Spanish tricke)
And speake in Print, and say loe at your call,
I will remaine, your owne both dead and quicke:
166
And dresse a dolt, in Motley for a while,
And so in sleeue, at silly Woodcocke smile,
If meaning went, with painted wordes and shoes,
It might suffice such courteous cheare to tast:
But with the same, disdaine and enuie goes.
And trumpry great, with wind and wordes in wast,
Then arme in arme, comes flattery full in hast,
And leads away, the sences out of frame,
That vpright wits, are thereby striken lame.
It might suffice such courteous cheare to tast:
But with the same, disdaine and enuie goes.
And trumpry great, with wind and wordes in wast,
Then arme in arme, comes flattery full in hast,
And leads away, the sences out of frame,
That vpright wits, are thereby striken lame.
This lowting lowe, and bowing downe the knee,
But gropes mens mindes, to creepe in credits lap,
Like malte horse then, he holdes vp head you see
That late before, could vaile both knee and cap,
The Nurse a while, can feede the child with pap,
And after beate him on the breech full bare,
A swarme God wot, of these fine Natures are.
But gropes mens mindes, to creepe in credits lap,
Like malte horse then, he holdes vp head you see
That late before, could vaile both knee and cap,
The Nurse a while, can feede the child with pap,
And after beate him on the breech full bare,
A swarme God wot, of these fine Natures are.
There be that bites, yet gronts and whines withall,
There be that winnes, yet sweare and say they lose,
There be that stops, and steales away the ball,
There be that plantes, a weede and plucks a rose,
There be pleads want, to whome the fountaine floes
Such hides their haps, to make the world to thinke,
At faire well head, they need not for to drinke,
There be that winnes, yet sweare and say they lose,
There be that stops, and steales away the ball,
There be that plantes, a weede and plucks a rose,
There be pleads want, to whome the fountaine floes
Such hides their haps, to make the world to thinke,
At faire well head, they need not for to drinke,
The whales you see, eates vp the little fish,
The pretie Penk, with Sammon may not swime,
The greatest heades, are fed with finesh dish,
The foulest pits, faire water runneth trime.
He gets the gaine that standeth neere the brime,
He blowes the cole, that hath cold fingers still,
He starues for bread, that hath no corne at mill.
The pretie Penk, with Sammon may not swime,
The greatest heades, are fed with finesh dish,
The foulest pits, faire water runneth trime.
He gets the gaine that standeth neere the brime,
He blowes the cole, that hath cold fingers still,
He starues for bread, that hath no corne at mill.
A world to see the course and state of thinges,
Some would get vp, that knows not where to light:
Some soer the skies, that neuer had no winges,
Some wrastle well, by cunning not by might.
Some seemes to iudge, faire coulours without sight.
And euery one, with some odde shift or grace,
In world at will, runnes out a goodly race.
Some would get vp, that knows not where to light:
Some soer the skies, that neuer had no winges,
Some wrastle well, by cunning not by might.
167
And euery one, with some odde shift or grace,
In world at will, runnes out a goodly race.
But to be plaine, I lag and come behinde,
As I were lame, and had a broken leg:
Or else I cannot, lye within the winde,
And hearken still, what I might easely beg,
I neede not say, in mouth I haue geg.
For I haue spoke, and sped in matters small,
By helpe of him, that hath my verses all.
As I were lame, and had a broken leg:
Or else I cannot, lye within the winde,
And hearken still, what I might easely beg,
I neede not say, in mouth I haue geg.
For I haue spoke, and sped in matters small,
By helpe of him, that hath my verses all.
But farre God wot, I am from that to seeke,
And misse the marke, that many men doe hit:
Wherefore salt teares, doe trickle downe the cheeke,
And heart doth feele, full manie a woefull fitt.
And so aside, in solempne sorrow sit.
As one indeede, that is forsaken cleane,
Where most he doth deserue, and best doth meane.
And misse the marke, that many men doe hit:
Wherefore salt teares, doe trickle downe the cheeke,
And heart doth feele, full manie a woefull fitt.
And so aside, in solempne sorrow sit.
As one indeede, that is forsaken cleane,
Where most he doth deserue, and best doth meane.
No matter now, though each man march and treade
On him that hates, the life he beares about:
Yet such as shall, these heauie Uerses reade,
Shall finde I blame, my fortune out of doubt,
But since on hope, no better hap will sprout.
I yeld to death, and vpward lift the minde,
Where lothsome life, shall present comfort finde.
On him that hates, the life he beares about:
Yet such as shall, these heauie Uerses reade,
Shall finde I blame, my fortune out of doubt,
But since on hope, no better hap will sprout.
I yeld to death, and vpward lift the minde,
Where lothsome life, shall present comfort finde.
Since hope can haue, no honey from the Hiue,
And paines can plucke, no pleasure for his toyle:
It is but vaine, for wearie life to striue,
And stretch out time, with torment and tormoyle,
Get what we can, death triumphes ore the spoyle.
Then note this well, though wee winne neere so mitch,
When death takes all, wee leaue a mizer ritch.
And paines can plucke, no pleasure for his toyle:
It is but vaine, for wearie life to striue,
And stretch out time, with torment and tormoyle,
Get what we can, death triumphes ore the spoyle.
Then note this well, though wee winne neere so mitch,
When death takes all, wee leaue a mizer ritch.
To liue and lacke, is double death indeede,
A present death, exceedes a lingring woe:
Since no good hap, in youth did helpe my neede,
In age why should, I striue with Fortune so,
Did yeares are come, and hastes me hence to goe.
The time drawes on, I hate the life I haue,
When heart shall breake, my griefe shall ende in graue,
A present death, exceedes a lingring woe:
Since no good hap, in youth did helpe my neede,
In age why should, I striue with Fortune so,
Did yeares are come, and hastes me hence to goe.
168
When heart shall breake, my griefe shall ende in graue,
Should I seeke life, that findes no place of rest,
Ne soyle, nor seate, to shroude me from the ayre:
When cramping cold, beclyps my carefull breast,
And dolour driues, my heart in deepe dispayre,
For such foule dayes, darke death is wonderous fayre.
As good to make, the scrawling wormes a feast,
As please the world, where mischiefe makes her neast.
Ne soyle, nor seate, to shroude me from the ayre:
When cramping cold, beclyps my carefull breast,
And dolour driues, my heart in deepe dispayre,
For such foule dayes, darke death is wonderous fayre.
As good to make, the scrawling wormes a feast,
As please the world, where mischiefe makes her neast.
Hie time it is, to haste my carkasse hence,
Youth stole awaie, and felt no kinde of ioy:
And age he left, in trauell euer since,
The wanton dayes, that made mee nice and coy,
Were but a dreame, a shadowe and a toy.
Sith slauerie heere, I find and nothing else,
My home is there, where soule in freedome dwels.
Youth stole awaie, and felt no kinde of ioy:
And age he left, in trauell euer since,
The wanton dayes, that made mee nice and coy,
Were but a dreame, a shadowe and a toy.
Sith slauerie heere, I find and nothing else,
My home is there, where soule in freedome dwels.
In warres and woe, my yeares are wasted cleane,
What should I see, if Lordly life I led:
I looke in glasse, and finde my cheekes so leane,
That euery houre, I doe but wish mee dead,
Now backe bendes downe, and forward falls the head,
And hollow eyes, in wrinkled brow doth shroude,
As though two starres, were creeping vnder cloude.
What should I see, if Lordly life I led:
I looke in glasse, and finde my cheekes so leane,
That euery houre, I doe but wish mee dead,
Now backe bendes downe, and forward falls the head,
And hollow eyes, in wrinkled brow doth shroude,
As though two starres, were creeping vnder cloude.
The lips waxe cold, and lookes both pale and thin,
The teeth fals out, as nuts forsoke the shale:
The bare bald-head, but shewes where haire hath bin,
The liuely ioyntes, waxe verie stiffe and stale,
The ready tongue, now folters in his tale.
The wearish face, and tawney colour showes,
The courage quayles as strength decaies and goes.
The teeth fals out, as nuts forsoke the shale:
The bare bald-head, but shewes where haire hath bin,
The liuely ioyntes, waxe verie stiffe and stale,
The ready tongue, now folters in his tale.
The wearish face, and tawney colour showes,
The courage quayles as strength decaies and goes.
The sweete delights are drownde in dulled mind,
The gladsome sportes, to groning sighes are bent,
The frisking limmes, so farre from frame I finde,
That I forethinke, the time that youth hath spent,
But when I waigh, that all these thinges were lent,
And I must pay, the earth her dutie throw,
I shrinke no whit, to yelde these pleasures now.
The gladsome sportes, to groning sighes are bent,
The frisking limmes, so farre from frame I finde,
That I forethinke, the time that youth hath spent,
But when I waigh, that all these thinges were lent,
And I must pay, the earth her dutie throw,
169
Had I possest, the giftes of Fortune heere,
A house, a wife, and Children therewithall:
And had in store, (to make my friendes good cheere)
Such common thinges, as neighbours haue at call,
In such dispayre, perchaunce I would not fall.
But want of this, and other lackes a score,
Bids mee seeke death, and wish to liue no more.
A house, a wife, and Children therewithall:
And had in store, (to make my friendes good cheere)
Such common thinges, as neighbours haue at call,
In such dispayre, perchaunce I would not fall.
But want of this, and other lackes a score,
Bids mee seeke death, and wish to liue no more.
The thatcher hath, a cottage poore you see,
The sheapheard knowes, where he shall sleepe at night,
The dayly drudge, at night can quiet bee,
Thus Fortune sendes, some rest to euery wight.
So borne I was, to house and land by right.
But in a bagg, to Court I brought the same,
From Shrewsburie towne, a seate of auncient fame.
The sheapheard knowes, where he shall sleepe at night,
The dayly drudge, at night can quiet bee,
Thus Fortune sendes, some rest to euery wight.
So borne I was, to house and land by right.
But in a bagg, to Court I brought the same,
From Shrewsburie towne, a seate of auncient fame.
What thinkes my friendes, that there behind I laft,
What fault findes shee, that gaue me life and sucke:
O courting fine, thou art too cold a craft,
The Carter hath, at home much better lucke,
Well well I say, adue all worldly mucke.
Ne house nor Land, we beare away I knoe,
I naked came, and naked hence must goe.
What fault findes shee, that gaue me life and sucke:
O courting fine, thou art too cold a craft,
The Carter hath, at home much better lucke,
Well well I say, adue all worldly mucke.
Ne house nor Land, we beare away I knoe,
I naked came, and naked hence must goe.
The greatest King, must passe the selfe same way,
Our day of birth, and buriall are alike:
Their ioy, their pompe, their wealth and rich aray,
Shall soone consume, like snow that lies in dike,
No Buckler serues, when soddaine death doth strike.
As soone may come, a poore mans soule to blis,
As may the rich, or greatest Lord that is.
Our day of birth, and buriall are alike:
Their ioy, their pompe, their wealth and rich aray,
Shall soone consume, like snow that lies in dike,
No Buckler serues, when soddaine death doth strike.
As soone may come, a poore mans soule to blis,
As may the rich, or greatest Lord that is.
Well ere my breath, my body doe forsake,
My sprite I do, bequeath to God aboue:
My bookes, my scroules, and songes that I did make,
I leaue with friendes, that freely me did loue,
To [illeg.] foes, whose malice me did moue.
I wishe in hast, amendment of their waies,
And to the Court, and courtiers happy daies.
My sprite I do, bequeath to God aboue:
My bookes, my scroules, and songes that I did make,
I leaue with friendes, that freely me did loue,
To [illeg.] foes, whose malice me did moue.
I wishe in hast, amendment of their waies,
And to the Court, and courtiers happy daies.
170
My fortune straunge, to straungers do I leaue,
That straungly can, retaine such straunge mishap:
To such as still, in world did me deceaue,
I wish they may, beware of such like trap,
To slaunderous tongues, that killde me with a clap.
I wish more rest, than they haue giuen to mee,
And blesse those shreawes, that curst and crabbed bee.
That straungly can, retaine such straunge mishap:
To such as still, in world did me deceaue,
I wish they may, beware of such like trap,
To slaunderous tongues, that killde me with a clap.
I wish more rest, than they haue giuen to mee,
And blesse those shreawes, that curst and crabbed bee.
To such as yet, did neuer pleasure man,
I giue those rimes, that nips the gawled backe:
To such as would, doe good and if they can,
I wish good lucke, long life, and voyde of lacke,
To currish Karles, a whyp and Colliers sacke.
And to the proude, that stands vppon their braues,
A wainscot face, and twentie crabtree staues.
I giue those rimes, that nips the gawled backe:
To such as would, doe good and if they can,
I wish good lucke, long life, and voyde of lacke,
To currish Karles, a whyp and Colliers sacke.
And to the proude, that stands vppon their braues,
A wainscot face, and twentie crabtree staues.
To surlie sirs, that scornes the meaner sort,
A nightcap furd, with Foynes I them bequeath:
To such as scowle, at others good report.
(And sets much store, by their owne paynted sheat)
In signe of lucke, I giue a willow wreath,
To such as are, vnnamde, and merits much,
The stone I leaue, that tries the Gold by tutch,
A nightcap furd, with Foynes I them bequeath:
To such as scowle, at others good report.
(And sets much store, by their owne paynted sheat)
In signe of lucke, I giue a willow wreath,
To such as are, vnnamde, and merits much,
The stone I leaue, that tries the Gold by tutch,
To gentill race, with good conditions ioynd,
I wish more ioy, than man imagin may:
And since for poore, I haue noe mony coynd,
God graunt them all a mery mariage day,
To such as doth delight in honest play.
I wish the Gold, that I haue lost thereby,
And all the wealth, I want before I die.
I wish more ioy, than man imagin may:
And since for poore, I haue noe mony coynd,
God graunt them all a mery mariage day,
To such as doth delight in honest play.
I wish the Gold, that I haue lost thereby,
And all the wealth, I want before I die.
Now friends shake handes, I must be gone my boyes,
Our mirth takes end, our triumph all is done:
Our tykling talke, our sportes and merry toyes,
Do slide away, like shadowe of the Sun,
Another comes, when I my race haue run.
Shall passe the time, with you in better plite,
And finde good cause, of greater thinges to write.
Our mirth takes end, our triumph all is done:
Our tykling talke, our sportes and merry toyes,
Do slide away, like shadowe of the Sun,
Another comes, when I my race haue run.
Shall passe the time, with you in better plite,
And finde good cause, of greater thinges to write.
FINIS.
175
A DREAME.
To the right worshipfull my good
Lady the Lady Paulet, who was wife to the honorable
sir Hugh Paulet Knight.
176
A dreame
I had the straungest thing,
that euer man might meet:
Me thought I bore amid a King,
a faire familiar spreet.
that euer man might meet:
Me thought I bore amid a King,
a faire familiar spreet.
A Lady like the Fairie Queene,
that men behold but seld:
Who daunceth round about the greene,
by Moonshine oft in field.
that men behold but seld:
Who daunceth round about the greene,
by Moonshine oft in field.
This King on little finger worne,
did mysteries vnfold
And made me walke from Eauen to Morne,
in secret where I would.
did mysteries vnfold
And made me walke from Eauen to Morne,
in secret where I would.
Among the Dames and Nymphes most chast,
when greatest glee they make:
And where sweet darlings are embrac'st,
and greatest pleasure take.
when greatest glee they make:
And where sweet darlings are embrac'st,
and greatest pleasure take.
I came sometime where loues delight,
was drownd in deepe disdaine:
And fancie reapt but froward spight,
to counter-pace his paine.
was drownd in deepe disdaine:
And fancie reapt but froward spight,
to counter-pace his paine.
Not sound a sleepe in slumber so,
this busie dreame I had:
That tossed senses to and fro,
with heauie motions sad.
this busie dreame I had:
That tossed senses to and fro,
with heauie motions sad.
That waits vpon a troubled mind,
that seldome taketh rest:
But wanders with each blast of wind,
and breath of panting brest,
that seldome taketh rest:
But wanders with each blast of wind,
and breath of panting brest,
177
And in this Dreame a world of toyes,
and trifles led me on:
Some of new cares, some present ioyes,
and some of pleasures gone.
and trifles led me on:
Some of new cares, some present ioyes,
and some of pleasures gone.
And some of gladsome haps to come,
those were dumme sights and showes:
Not worth a philip of my thombe,
if I should all disclose.
those were dumme sights and showes:
Not worth a philip of my thombe,
if I should all disclose.
But as those fancies past like shade,
that followe man full fast:
Or brightnes of a shining blade,
whose glaunce small while doth last.
that followe man full fast:
Or brightnes of a shining blade,
whose glaunce small while doth last.
I came me thought into a caue,
where all the Sibbils dwel:
A sumptuous pallace builded braue,
not like a little Cell.
where all the Sibbils dwel:
A sumptuous pallace builded braue,
not like a little Cell.
Or Cottage poore of small account,
for at the outer gate:
There stood a stately mighty mount,
wheron a Lady sate.
for at the outer gate:
There stood a stately mighty mount,
wheron a Lady sate.
All clothed in white, and wore a hoode
of red, round shapte indeed:
At sight of whom amazed I stood,
to see so strange a weed.
of red, round shapte indeed:
At sight of whom amazed I stood,
to see so strange a weed.
Why man quoth she, feare not a whit,
A woman sure I am:
That doo among my neighbours sit,
as milde and meeke as Lamb.
A woman sure I am:
That doo among my neighbours sit,
as milde and meeke as Lamb.
178
And spend the goods that God hath sent,
in worthy liberall sort:
With merrie meane and sad content,
that winnes a good report.
in worthy liberall sort:
With merrie meane and sad content,
that winnes a good report.
The poore I feed, the rich I feast,
and welcome hie and low:
And spent thus thirtie yeares at least,
more wealth than world doth know.
and welcome hie and low:
And spent thus thirtie yeares at least,
more wealth than world doth know.
The weedes that body doth disguise,
vpon vaine earth a space:
At latter day when soule shall rise,
Shall giue me greater grace.
vpon vaine earth a space:
At latter day when soule shall rise,
Shall giue me greater grace.
I woondred at the words she spake,
she did discend withall:
So by the hand she did me take.
and led me through the hall.
she did discend withall:
So by the hand she did me take.
and led me through the hall.
Unto a pretie parlour fine,
where I beheld and saw:
A trifling counterfeit of mine,
that Arnold Oens did draw.
where I beheld and saw:
A trifling counterfeit of mine,
that Arnold Oens did draw.
There sat of guests a table full,
that auncient friends had beene:
For she held house for them that wull,
make of her house their Inne.
that auncient friends had beene:
For she held house for them that wull,
make of her house their Inne.
Not for to pay as trauelers do,
for euery thing they take:
But feed and find great welcome to,
full free for friendships sake.
for euery thing they take:
But feed and find great welcome to,
full free for friendships sake.
179
Sometime the chiefe and greatest sort,
of Dames and noble peere:
Unto her table doth resort,
to tast of her good cheere.
of Dames and noble peere:
Unto her table doth resort,
to tast of her good cheere.
Yea most of all the worthie men,
that beares good name and sway:
Comes freely thither now and then,
to passe the time away.
that beares good name and sway:
Comes freely thither now and then,
to passe the time away.
It were a world to shew and tell,
what worthie deeds she doth:
For world will skarce beleeue it well,
that I do know forsooth.
what worthie deeds she doth:
For world will skarce beleeue it well,
that I do know forsooth.
Let passe in silence that a while,
my Dreams breeds greater doubt,
For some there at may chance to smile,
[illeg.] is strangely out.
my Dreams breeds greater doubt,
For some there at may chance to smile,
[illeg.] is strangely out.
The rouing thoughts of idle braine,
and fancies in the head:
That feede the mind with humours vaine,
when body seemeth dead.
and fancies in the head:
That feede the mind with humours vaine,
when body seemeth dead.
Are trustles toyes cleane voyd of truth,
which [illeg.] meat and drinke:
Or weake consaits of age and youth,
whereon the heart doth thinke.
which [illeg.] meat and drinke:
Or weake consaits of age and youth,
whereon the heart doth thinke.
Well be thy vizions good or bad,
or sweauons of the night:
Such idle freakes as fancy had,
now shall you heare aright.
or sweauons of the night:
Such idle freakes as fancy had,
now shall you heare aright.
180
Me thought a troupe of Dames I saw,
a thousand in a roe:
They would not tread vpon a strawe,
they minst the matter so.
a thousand in a roe:
They would not tread vpon a strawe,
they minst the matter so.
All hand in hand they traced on,
a tricksie ancient round:
And soone as shadowes were they gone,
and might no more be found.
a tricksie ancient round:
And soone as shadowes were they gone,
and might no more be found.
And in their place came fearefull bugges,
as blacke as any pitche:
With bellies big and swagging dugges,
more lothsome then a witch.
as blacke as any pitche:
With bellies big and swagging dugges,
more lothsome then a witch.
All these began to chide and charme,
as hellish hags they were:
And went about some secret harme,
as seemed plainely there.
as hellish hags they were:
And went about some secret harme,
as seemed plainely there.
For in a circle stoode they still,
and starde like Bull at stake:
They did no good but wisht much ill,
to them that sleepe or wake.
and starde like Bull at stake:
They did no good but wisht much ill,
to them that sleepe or wake.
From these foule feends I thought to flye,
but I was quickly staide:
And in the twinckling of an eye,
was made full sore afraide.
but I was quickly staide:
And in the twinckling of an eye,
was made full sore afraide.
For they with frownes and froward lookes,
did threaten my decay:
And said they had such counting bookes,
that should my sins bewray.
did threaten my decay:
And said they had such counting bookes,
that should my sins bewray.
181
Thy filthy faults of youth quoth they,
shall now corrected be:
For plagues and scourges euery way,
there is prepar'd for thee.
shall now corrected be:
For plagues and scourges euery way,
there is prepar'd for thee.
First for thy soule offence to God,
in secret corners doone:
Thou shalt be whipt with many a rod,
of euery mothers Sonne.
in secret corners doone:
Thou shalt be whipt with many a rod,
of euery mothers Sonne.
Some shall thee wound with edged swoord,
and let out thy wilde blood:
And some shall shoot such bitter woords,
shall neuer doo thee good.
and let out thy wilde blood:
And some shall shoot such bitter woords,
shall neuer doo thee good.
The Prince shall dayly speak thee faire,
but neuer thee preferre:
The people driue thee in dispaire,
and make thee open warre.
but neuer thee preferre:
The people driue thee in dispaire,
and make thee open warre.
Thy freends with flattery thee deceaue,
thy foes about thee flocke:
And in great mischeefe shall thee lead,
beset with many a mocke.
thy foes about thee flocke:
And in great mischeefe shall thee lead,
beset with many a mocke.
And ech disease that life abhorres,
shall dayly on thee steale:
With botch and blaines and stinking sores,
that no sweet salue shall heale.
shall dayly on thee steale:
With botch and blaines and stinking sores,
that no sweet salue shall heale.
So marked man passe where thou wilt,
Gods wrath shall follow thee:
As guerdon for thy wretched guilt,
which God alone dooth see.
Gods wrath shall follow thee:
As guerdon for thy wretched guilt,
which God alone dooth see.
182
These words pronounc'st, these hags of hell,
inhast and horrour both:
From thence did take a quicke farewell,
and downe those hell-hounds goeth.
inhast and horrour both:
From thence did take a quicke farewell,
and downe those hell-hounds goeth.
Where Pluto dwels and darkenes is,
a place of endles paine:
And where foule Feends full far from blisse,
in torments still remaine.
a place of endles paine:
And where foule Feends full far from blisse,
in torments still remaine.
Now sat I sadly all amaz'd,
to thinke on follies past:
And vpward to the heauens gaz'd,
from whence comes helpe at last.
to thinke on follies past:
And vpward to the heauens gaz'd,
from whence comes helpe at last.
Whereat the Clouds a passage made,
to Angels as I weene:
That than discended downe in shade,
to come to world vnseene.
to Angels as I weene:
That than discended downe in shade,
to come to world vnseene.
My ring disclos'd that secret straight,
and tolde me what they were:
Fye man (quoth they) vse no such sleight,
thou needst not now to feare.
and tolde me what they were:
Fye man (quoth they) vse no such sleight,
thou needst not now to feare.
We come to comfort feeble sence,
that all things takes awrie:
And not to punish mans offence,
that doth for vengeance cry.
that all things takes awrie:
And not to punish mans offence,
that doth for vengeance cry.
God doth in mercy more delite,
than in his iustice still:
His anger is forgotten quite,
when men fore-thinke their ill.
than in his iustice still:
His anger is forgotten quite,
when men fore-thinke their ill.
183
The deuill driues men in dispaire,
by threatnings now and than:
And laies his snares in earth or aire,
to trap some silly man.
by threatnings now and than:
And laies his snares in earth or aire,
to trap some silly man.
He is the Father of vntroth,
that hath great wits beguilde:
And still about great mischiefe goeth,
like roaring Lyon wilde.
that hath great wits beguilde:
And still about great mischiefe goeth,
like roaring Lyon wilde.
Those bugges that late before thee stood,
are fancies of thy head:
Or on thy hart some heauy blood,
that haunts thee in thy bed.
are fancies of thy head:
Or on thy hart some heauy blood,
that haunts thee in thy bed.
This said, the Angels vanisht all,
for I saw them no more:
Then for the Lady gan I call,
of whom I spake before.
for I saw them no more:
Then for the Lady gan I call,
of whom I spake before.
She came with crootch now lymping on,
in garments white as snowe:
For pleasure, pride, and pomp was gone,
from her full long agoe.
in garments white as snowe:
For pleasure, pride, and pomp was gone,
from her full long agoe.
What meanest thou man to call me thus?
quoth she thou homely guest:
For I was halfe asleepe I wis,
my yeeres requires some rest.
quoth she thou homely guest:
For I was halfe asleepe I wis,
my yeeres requires some rest.
O curteous dame, of fauour yet,
heare what I haue to say:
I seeke but councell at thy wit,
of things I shall bewray.
heare what I haue to say:
I seeke but councell at thy wit,
of things I shall bewray.
184
My life is tost and troubled long,
with sorrowes from my birth:
With many greefes and many a wrong,
and wretched cares on earth.
with sorrowes from my birth:
With many greefes and many a wrong,
and wretched cares on earth.
I droup and drop away like lincke,
whose light is soone burnt out:
And still the more of worlde I think,
the more I liue in doubt.
whose light is soone burnt out:
And still the more of worlde I think,
the more I liue in doubt.
The more I wish, the lesse I haue,
and where I merite most:
There iust deserts doth dayly craue,
and there is labour lost.
and where I merite most:
There iust deserts doth dayly craue,
and there is labour lost.
Youth hath consumde his yeeres in waste,
and gathers nought but greefe:
Age is but scornde or cleane disgraste,
and starues without releefe.
and gathers nought but greefe:
Age is but scornde or cleane disgraste,
and starues without releefe.
O tell no more of this quoth she,
these fortunes many finde:
As heauy haps doo follow me,
if thou didst know my minde.
these fortunes many finde:
As heauy haps doo follow me,
if thou didst know my minde.
I meane as well as any wight,
that I by loue beare life:
And dare shew face for dooing right,
with widow, maid or wife.
that I by loue beare life:
And dare shew face for dooing right,
with widow, maid or wife.
Yet worlde deceiues me euery day,
my good turnes haue no proofe:
No faith nor promise any way,
falles out for my behoofe.
my good turnes haue no proofe:
No faith nor promise any way,
falles out for my behoofe.
185
In world there is such falshood vs'd,
the iust can neuer thriue:
A Saint himselfe might be abus'd,
if heere he were aliue.
the iust can neuer thriue:
A Saint himselfe might be abus'd,
if heere he were aliue.
But earth and ashes, dung and stinke,
is all that heere we haue:
Men haue not one good thought to think,
from birth vnto their graue.
is all that heere we haue:
Men haue not one good thought to think,
from birth vnto their graue.
Uaine are the woords and deeds of all,
all is but scornes and lyes:
And all to dust and drosse shall fall,
thou seest before thine eyes.
all is but scornes and lyes:
And all to dust and drosse shall fall,
thou seest before thine eyes.
She saide no more, but pausde and staide
to heare how I replyed:
When I her words full well had waied,
and time to speake I spied.
to heare how I replyed:
When I her words full well had waied,
and time to speake I spied.
These things are true quoth I, good dreame,
I know the wrongs you feele:
And how mishap turnes, out of frame
falles Fortunes fickle wheele.
I know the wrongs you feele:
And how mishap turnes, out of frame
falles Fortunes fickle wheele.
And how vile world shall make an end,
and what short season heere:
We haue before from world we wend,
all that see I full cleere.
and what short season heere:
We haue before from world we wend,
all that see I full cleere.
A greater greefe stickes in my minde,
that none but God he knowes:
Which in my hart my freends shall finde,
when hence my body goes.
that none but God he knowes:
Which in my hart my freends shall finde,
when hence my body goes.
186
This shall I shrine in secret thought,
as it some tretcherie were:
Or might against great God be wrought,
to bring my soule in feare.
as it some tretcherie were:
Or might against great God be wrought,
to bring my soule in feare.
If my right hand knew that indeed,
I would cut of the same:
And bite my tung and make it bleed,
if tung those greefes would name.
I would cut of the same:
And bite my tung and make it bleed,
if tung those greefes would name.
No eare nor any liuing soule,
is fit to heare it thorow:
My head doth craue to stand on pole,
if I disclose it now.
is fit to heare it thorow:
My head doth craue to stand on pole,
if I disclose it now.
The aire alone shall heare me sound.
the smart I beare in brest:
In hollow caues it shall rebound,
to breed me more vnrest.
the smart I beare in brest:
In hollow caues it shall rebound,
to breed me more vnrest.
Yea like a man bestraught of wit,
amid wilde woods and groues:
Where Howlets in dark nights doo sit,
and Hawkes for pray he houes.
amid wilde woods and groues:
Where Howlets in dark nights doo sit,
and Hawkes for pray he houes.
There shall my hart his greefes vnfolde,
there will I cry and yell:
To starres and cloudes it shalbe tolde,
that now I dare not tell.
there will I cry and yell:
To starres and cloudes it shalbe tolde,
that now I dare not tell.
Fye man, be not so brute like beast,
to rage and run abroad:
From foes doo keepe, to freends at least,
thy conscience doo vnloade.
to rage and run abroad:
From foes doo keepe, to freends at least,
thy conscience doo vnloade.
187
Some of those gripes that greeues thee so,
good councell maiest thou take:
Sweet plaisters God prouides I know,
for men that mone will make.
good councell maiest thou take:
Sweet plaisters God prouides I know,
for men that mone will make.
A freend deere dame, what words are those,
where dwels so true a wight?
No sooner secrets we disclose,
but then adue goodnight.
where dwels so true a wight?
No sooner secrets we disclose,
but then adue goodnight.
A stranger hath that he hath sought,
and newes is hard to keep:
When freends are maisters of thy thoughts,
they laugh when thou doost weep.
and newes is hard to keep:
When freends are maisters of thy thoughts,
they laugh when thou doost weep.
And quickly loe behinde thy backe,
thy secrets must be knowne:
Shall freends a burthen beare in pack,
when thou holdst not thine owne,
thy secrets must be knowne:
Shall freends a burthen beare in pack,
when thou holdst not thine owne,
That close in brest was locked fast,
a blabbing tung beware:
Strange tales flies euery where like blasts,
that sure vncertain are.
a blabbing tung beware:
Strange tales flies euery where like blasts,
that sure vncertain are.
Perchaunce I seeke some secret drift,
that none should know but I:
Or practise some dishonest shift,
wheron my life may lye.
that none should know but I:
Or practise some dishonest shift,
wheron my life may lye.
Or loue some Lady of estate,
a toy past hope in age:
A fancy that may purchase hate,
if reason rule not rage.
a toy past hope in age:
A fancy that may purchase hate,
if reason rule not rage.
188
Should these things be put out to nurse,
where Wolues and Tigers feede:
And where things growe from ill to worse,
and men catch harme indeed.
where Wolues and Tigers feede:
And where things growe from ill to worse,
and men catch harme indeed.
Nay, better swallow sorrows vp,
and dye in great distres:
Poyson drinke in spiced Cup,
then secrets so expres.
and dye in great distres:
Poyson drinke in spiced Cup,
then secrets so expres.
If matter of such weight you haue
goodman, doo what you please:
I doo no such great knowledge craue,
to finde out your disease.
goodman, doo what you please:
I doo no such great knowledge craue,
to finde out your disease.
And as for loue, both you and I
me think we should it leaue:
The moistnes of olde vaines wax dry,
if wit not me deceiue.
me think we should it leaue:
The moistnes of olde vaines wax dry,
if wit not me deceiue.
You may as well make madmen wise,
or clime beyond the Sun:
Or builde faire Castles in the Skies,
as such a course to run.
or clime beyond the Sun:
Or builde faire Castles in the Skies,
as such a course to run.
As follow loue that knowes you not,
when siluer haires doo shine:
And hath the pranckes of youth forgot,
and will no more be fine.
when siluer haires doo shine:
And hath the pranckes of youth forgot,
and will no more be fine.
O toutch not me with no fond loue,
nor nothing therby ment:
For I did but your iudgement proue,
of secret sweet content.
nor nothing therby ment:
For I did but your iudgement proue,
of secret sweet content.
189
Which I in silence carry still,
as my olde yeeres alowe
As much of hart, as of goodwill,
I troe I tolde you now.
as my olde yeeres alowe
As much of hart, as of goodwill,
I troe I tolde you now.
Perchaunce I may doo this or that,
as fancies men beguile:
But sure I neuer tolde you what,
I meaned all the while.
as fancies men beguile:
But sure I neuer tolde you what,
I meaned all the while.
For I had rather dye then tell,
what makes my sorrow great:
My greefes the wise doth know full well,
that knoweth colde from heate.
what makes my sorrow great:
My greefes the wise doth know full well,
that knoweth colde from heate.
Colde fortune may torment me sore,
and so may shifts some time:
Not hatred troubles men much more,
then Uenus in her prime.
and so may shifts some time:
Not hatred troubles men much more,
then Uenus in her prime.
Loue lasts no longer as you say,
then whiles gaie flowers growe greene:
In age then all delights decay,
which few or none haue seene.
then whiles gaie flowers growe greene:
In age then all delights decay,
which few or none haue seene.
For age knowes what true loue is worth,
and hath in loue great stay:
Youth brings light loue like blossoms forth,
that fades as flower in May.
and hath in loue great stay:
Youth brings light loue like blossoms forth,
that fades as flower in May.
Loue is not lost if loue be set,
past reach of common men:
Though for great loue, small loue we get,
loue is not hated then.
past reach of common men:
Though for great loue, small loue we get,
loue is not hated then.
190
Which shewes good loue wins fauour still,
if loue be placed right:
Loue gets great thanks, or gaines good will,
where euer loue doth light.
if loue be placed right:
Loue gets great thanks, or gaines good will,
where euer loue doth light.
Some say that loue is oft disdainde,
that is where loue doth lack:
those folks are weake and feeble brainde,
that thinks loue but a knacke.
that is where loue doth lack:
those folks are weake and feeble brainde,
that thinks loue but a knacke.
For through the world loue leads the Daunce,
where loue wants, growes no good:
But springs vp spite and foule mischaunce,
and mischeefe flowes like Flood.
where loue wants, growes no good:
But springs vp spite and foule mischaunce,
and mischeefe flowes like Flood.
Though loue I praise, this shewes no sparke,
of my close care and woes:
I hide my secrets in the darke,
that none but God it knowes.
of my close care and woes:
I hide my secrets in the darke,
that none but God it knowes.
Inough for me to suffer smart,
such lot doth destine giue:
And so with sorrowes breake the hart,
that hath no will to liue.
such lot doth destine giue:
And so with sorrowes breake the hart,
that hath no will to liue.
Good freend (quoth she) haste not thine end,
with passions of the minde:
Hope after hap, the world may mend,
thou maist good fortune finde.
with passions of the minde:
Hope after hap, the world may mend,
thou maist good fortune finde.
No sure my glasse of life is runne,
Death drawes on me so fast:
I see my daies are almost done,
life may no longer last.
Death drawes on me so fast:
I see my daies are almost done,
life may no longer last.
191
My haples yeares and aged bones,
desires no being heere:
To graue I go with sighs and grones,
I buy bad life too deere.
desires no being heere:
To graue I go with sighs and grones,
I buy bad life too deere.
With losse of blood, of time and youth,
and all that precious is:
With loyall seruice toile and truth,
and hope of earthly blisse.
and all that precious is:
With loyall seruice toile and truth,
and hope of earthly blisse.
All in one ballance now goes downe,
since guerdon get I none:
Nor no account in Court nor towne,
now I may hap vpon.
since guerdon get I none:
Nor no account in Court nor towne,
now I may hap vpon.
Adue day light, shut close mine eies,
too long you stare for nought:
So farewell friends, and you be wise,
for me take you no thought.
too long you stare for nought:
So farewell friends, and you be wise,
for me take you no thought.
By this our ships were wend about,
and Cannons gan to rore:
As they to Brytaine passed out,
with bounsing shot great store.
and Cannons gan to rore:
As they to Brytaine passed out,
with bounsing shot great store.
At noyse whereof I wakned straight,
and calling for my close:
And saw the Sunne on such a height,
that sodainly I rose.
and calling for my close:
And saw the Sunne on such a height,
that sodainly I rose.
And so put all my dreame in verse,
would God a dreame it were:
For many things I now rehearse,
wil prooue too true I feare.
would God a dreame it were:
For many things I now rehearse,
wil prooue too true I feare.
FINIS.
192
[Long time in sute, and seruice gets some grace]
To the right honourable my Lady Puckering, wife to
the most honorable the L. keeper of the great seale of England.
Long
time in sute, and seruice gets some grace,
Long crauing gaines, both crust and crome ye know:
Long walking rids, great ground away apace,
Long vse of legs makes traueiler easly go.
Long watching teid, brings ebbe at length to floe,
So loyall loue, and dutie long in vre:
Full many waies doth great good will procure.
Long crauing gaines, both crust and crome ye know:
Long walking rids, great ground away apace,
Long vse of legs makes traueiler easly go.
Long watching teid, brings ebbe at length to floe,
So loyall loue, and dutie long in vre:
Full many waies doth great good will procure.
Whereon good turnes springs out as from a flood,
Runnes gushing waues, that waters euery soile:
Whose moisture doth, both fruit and flower much good,
And profite brings to Plowmans painefull toile.
This faire land flood, kept barren field from foile,
For if no deaw, of heauen I had found:
Hot sommers drouth, had soone dried vp my ground.
Runnes gushing waues, that waters euery soile:
Whose moisture doth, both fruit and flower much good,
And profite brings to Plowmans painefull toile.
This faire land flood, kept barren field from foile,
For if no deaw, of heauen I had found:
Hot sommers drouth, had soone dried vp my ground.
The fountaine had, her course no sooner run,
With golden streames, that cordiall is of kinde:
But straight began, to shine the gladsome Sun,
That sucker sends, to tree, to root, and rinde.
The frost did thaw, with milde-warme westerne winde,
And all the springs and conduits of the towne;
Ran Claret wine, in honour of the crowne.
With golden streames, that cordiall is of kinde:
But straight began, to shine the gladsome Sun,
That sucker sends, to tree, to root, and rinde.
The frost did thaw, with milde-warme westerne winde,
And all the springs and conduits of the towne;
Ran Claret wine, in honour of the crowne.
When bill assignd, by sute from Prince had past,
Lord how the world, stood therewith well content:
The Clearkes they wrote, and freely laboured fast,
The seales were wonne, when purse no penny spent.
The waxe was wrought throw grace that God had sent,
So seale and waxe, and all that name I can:
Came franckly of, to me from euery man.
Lord how the world, stood therewith well content:
193
The seales were wonne, when purse no penny spent.
The waxe was wrought throw grace that God had sent,
So seale and waxe, and all that name I can:
Came franckly of, to me from euery man.
Lo how hard world, by meanes is easie made,
And mens good wils, with tract of time we gaine:
In spring it sprouts, at fall of leafe did fade,
The grasse grows greene, with little showres of raine.
I reapt the crop, and fruit of others paine,
What needs more words, each place where I did go:
For Princes grace, did me great fauour sho.
And mens good wils, with tract of time we gaine:
In spring it sprouts, at fall of leafe did fade,
The grasse grows greene, with little showres of raine.
I reapt the crop, and fruit of others paine,
What needs more words, each place where I did go:
For Princes grace, did me great fauour sho.
They knew that Court had cleane consumde my youth,
And plead mine age, with pretie pension now:
If so they thought, in deed they gest the truth,
For youth and age, perforce is pleased throw.
Saue that they bid me make my pen my plow,
And prooue awhile, what printed bookes will doo:
To helpe old Tom, to get a supper too.
And plead mine age, with pretie pension now:
If so they thought, in deed they gest the truth,
For youth and age, perforce is pleased throw.
Saue that they bid me make my pen my plow,
And prooue awhile, what printed bookes will doo:
To helpe old Tom, to get a supper too.
But blest be her that did the dinner giue,
With too much meat we may a surfeit take:
Long with good rule, and diet men may liue,
Full belly oft, an emptie purse may make.
He feedeth best, that eats for hungers sake,
Than porcion poore, makes men ne proud nor rich:
Yet one good meale a day doth please me mich.
With too much meat we may a surfeit take:
Long with good rule, and diet men may liue,
Full belly oft, an emptie purse may make.
He feedeth best, that eats for hungers sake,
Than porcion poore, makes men ne proud nor rich:
Yet one good meale a day doth please me mich.
Where am I now, I speake of liberall men,
That freely gaue the seales and all the rest:
Which deed deserues both thankes and praise of pen,
For that is all from me they haue possest.
This course would make the learned Lawyers blest,
If of poore men (they tooke no fee at all:)
Whose wrongs are great, and riches is but small.
That freely gaue the seales and all the rest:
Which deed deserues both thankes and praise of pen,
For that is all from me they haue possest.
This course would make the learned Lawyers blest,
If of poore men (they tooke no fee at all:)
Whose wrongs are great, and riches is but small.
To trot and trudge two hundreth miles or more,
And spend their goods in toyling too and fro:
And be long pincht with paine and labour sore,
And then compeld to costly tearme to go.
Craues great regard of them that conscience know.
Than wise graue heads that looks through euery cause:
Defend the poore with fauour of your lawes.
And spend their goods in toyling too and fro:
And be long pincht with paine and labour sore,
And then compeld to costly tearme to go.
194
Than wise graue heads that looks through euery cause:
Defend the poore with fauour of your lawes.
Their plaints may pearce through highest heauens all,
Their praiers brings great blessings to your dore:
Your fame doth rise, where they good words let fall,
For happie are the hands that helpes the poore.
This sentence should be written on the floore,
Who can do good to those that stands in need:
Shall reape much corne, where sowne was litle seed.
Their praiers brings great blessings to your dore:
Your fame doth rise, where they good words let fall,
For happie are the hands that helpes the poore.
This sentence should be written on the floore,
Who can do good to those that stands in need:
Shall reape much corne, where sowne was litle seed.
When iustice flowes from liberall noble mind,
Good turns in world wil make men liue like Saints:
When good cheap law, poore silly soules do find,
The Court is not long troubled with complaints.
Franke heart goes throw where feeble courage faints,
Bountie winnes loue, and lasts for euer more:
Who doth great good and little takes therefore.
Good turns in world wil make men liue like Saints:
When good cheap law, poore silly soules do find,
The Court is not long troubled with complaints.
Franke heart goes throw where feeble courage faints,
Bountie winnes loue, and lasts for euer more:
Who doth great good and little takes therefore.
The poore are more in number euery where,
Then are the rich that haue the world at wil:
Wherefore the more we ought with them to beare,
Because they liue in lacke and sorrow stil.
The Lord that sits on his hie holy hill,
Lookt lowly down on Lazarus the poore:
That humbly askt an almes at Diues doore.
Then are the rich that haue the world at wil:
Wherefore the more we ought with them to beare,
Because they liue in lacke and sorrow stil.
The Lord that sits on his hie holy hill,
Lookt lowly down on Lazarus the poore:
That humbly askt an almes at Diues doore.
Most precious are the poore to God aboue,
Though heere below they walke like lambes were lost:
And one good turne to them doth get more loue,
Then fortie things we doe for worldly boast.
Who saues a ship that is with tempest tost,
And brings the barke where helpe and harbour is:
For thankful paines shall purchase heauen blisse.
Though heere below they walke like lambes were lost:
And one good turne to them doth get more loue,
Then fortie things we doe for worldly boast.
Who saues a ship that is with tempest tost,
And brings the barke where helpe and harbour is:
For thankful paines shall purchase heauen blisse.
195
When that great Iudge shal come to iudge vs all,
Such as did helpe the poore shal happy be:
For then that Iudge wil for those people call,
Who to the poore were alwaies franke and free.
Though world waxe blind, the Lord doth daily see,
Who helpes who harmes, and who in hope and trust:
Laies vp their gold where riches cannot rust.
Such as did helpe the poore shal happy be:
For then that Iudge wil for those people call,
Who to the poore were alwaies franke and free.
Though world waxe blind, the Lord doth daily see,
Who helpes who harmes, and who in hope and trust:
Laies vp their gold where riches cannot rust.
The wise no doubt doth so by gift of grace,
That gouernes man in euery honest cause:
Those noble minds that vertue doe embrace,
Are plac'st by Prince the Iudges of our Lawes.
At that wel head the poore cleare water drawes,
Yea poore and rich doe tast that running streame:
That spreads her vaines throw al this stately Reame.
That gouernes man in euery honest cause:
Those noble minds that vertue doe embrace,
Are plac'st by Prince the Iudges of our Lawes.
At that wel head the poore cleare water drawes,
Yea poore and rich doe tast that running streame:
That spreads her vaines throw al this stately Reame.
Who could enioy a yard or foot of Land,
If Law did not decide true titles right?
Or who could holde his purse in his owne hand?
If Law brought not darke dealings vnto light.
Good Law doth see cleere day from clowdy night,
Discernes the troth from falshood finely cled:
Whose glorious grace deceaues each simple head.
If Law did not decide true titles right?
Or who could holde his purse in his owne hand?
If Law brought not darke dealings vnto light.
Good Law doth see cleere day from clowdy night,
Discernes the troth from falshood finely cled:
Whose glorious grace deceaues each simple head.
Law lookes on all and sifts the flower from bran,
Law sets that straight that craft would crooked make:
Law is a stay to state and life of man,
Law with a word makes guilty conscience quake.
Law with the sword from shoulders head doth take,
Law forceth loue, where hatred seeketh blood:
And Law mong men in world doth greatest good.
Law sets that straight that craft would crooked make:
Law is a stay to state and life of man,
Law with a word makes guilty conscience quake.
Law with the sword from shoulders head doth take,
Law forceth loue, where hatred seeketh blood:
And Law mong men in world doth greatest good.
Where Law is none, there ciuill order dies,
Both brute, and rude, and sauadge people groe:
Like Canibals they liue in beastly guise,
And naked too like mad wilde goats they goe.
The Feend they serue for God they do not know,
Where Law doth lacke and Iustice hath no place:
There neuer comes ne goodnes, rule, nor grace.
Both brute, and rude, and sauadge people groe:
Like Canibals they liue in beastly guise,
And naked too like mad wilde goats they goe.
196
Where Law doth lacke and Iustice hath no place:
There neuer comes ne goodnes, rule, nor grace.
O God how glad the hungry is of food,
The heauie heart that woe hath wasted long:
To feele and find the Lawyers in such mood,
That they by Law redresse a poore mans wrong.
O sweet consort, O pleasant well set song,
Where all the parts the singers haue by rote:
And out of tune is placed nere a note.
The heauie heart that woe hath wasted long:
To feele and find the Lawyers in such mood,
That they by Law redresse a poore mans wrong.
O sweet consort, O pleasant well set song,
Where all the parts the singers haue by rote:
And out of tune is placed nere a note.
O noble Law where Iustice voyce doth sound,
Concordance right the prop of publicke state:
And where no iarre of musicke may be found,
Nor discord comes amisse to breed debate.
Who loues no law doth all good order hate,
Law holds the ioynts to gather firme and fast:
That makes the house and timber long to last.
Concordance right the prop of publicke state:
And where no iarre of musicke may be found,
Nor discord comes amisse to breed debate.
Who loues no law doth all good order hate,
Law holds the ioynts to gather firme and fast:
That makes the house and timber long to last.
With equall waights in ballance all is tried,
By measure iust the world doth buy and sell:
A little graine in golde is quickly spied,
When in true skales good coyne is waied well.
Rest so I haue a further tale to tell,
God graunt my muse be in so good a vaine:
That I deserue but thankes for all my paine.
By measure iust the world doth buy and sell:
A little graine in golde is quickly spied,
When in true skales good coyne is waied well.
Rest so I haue a further tale to tell,
God graunt my muse be in so good a vaine:
That I deserue but thankes for all my paine.
FINIS.
197
A few plaine verses of truth against the flaterie of time, made when the Queens Maiestie was last at Oxenford
To the right worshipfull the Ladie
Anderson, wife to the right honorable Lord chiefe Iustice of the common Pleas.
198
that praise your Ladies so:
My Phenix makes their plumes to fall,
that would like Peacockes goe.
Some doe their Princes praise,
and Synthia some doe like:
And some their Mistresse honour raise,
as high as Souldiers pike.
Come downe yee doe presmount,
the warning bel it sounds:
That cals you Poets to account,
for breaking of your bounds.
In giuing fame to those,
faire flowers that soone doth fade:
And cleane forget the white red rose,
that God a Phenix made.
Your Ladies also doe decline,
like Stars in darkesome night:
When Phenix doth like Phœbus shine,
and leands the world great light.
You paint to please desire,
your Dame in colours gay:
As though braue words, or trim attire,
could grace a clod of clay.
My Phenix needs not any art,
of Poets painting quil:
She is her selfe in euerie part,
so shapte by kindly skil.
That nature cannot wel amend,
and to that shape most rare:
The Gods such speciall grace doth send,
that is without compare.
The heauens did agree,
by constellations plaine:
209
(In her most happie daies) and carries cleane awaie:
The tip and top of peerlesse prayse, if all the world say nay,
Looke not that I should name, her vertue in their place,
But looke on her true well-won fame, that answers forme & face
And therein shall you read, a world of matter now,
That round about the world doth spread her heauenly graces throw
The seas (where cannons rore) hath yelded her her right,
And sent such newes vnto the shore, of enemies foile and flight.
That all the world doth sound, the glorie Phenix gote
Whereof an eccho doth rebound, in such a tune and note,
(That none aliue shall reatch) of Phenix honor great,
Which shall the poets muses teach, how they of her shold treat
O then with verses sweete, if Poets haue good store,
Fling down your pen, at Phenix feet, & praise your nimphes no more.
Packe hence she comes in place, a stately Royall Queene:
That takes away your Ladies grace, as soone as she is seene.
FINIS.
210
[Verses of value, if Vertue bee seene]
To the right Worshipfull my Ladie Fortescue, wife to the right honourable Sir Iohn Fortescue Knight.
Verses of value, if Vertue bee seene,
Made of a Phenix, a King, and a Queene.
Made of a Phenix, a King, and a Queene.
211
My
Phenix once, was wont to mount the skies,
To see how birdes, of baser feathers flew:
Then did her Port, and presence please our eies:
Whose absence now, breeds nought but fancies new.
The Phenix want, our court, and Realme may rue.
Thus sight of her, such welcome gladnes brings,
That world ioies much, whē Phenix claps her wings
To see how birdes, of baser feathers flew:
Then did her Port, and presence please our eies:
Whose absence now, breeds nought but fancies new.
The Phenix want, our court, and Realme may rue.
Thus sight of her, such welcome gladnes brings,
That world ioies much, whē Phenix claps her wings
And flies abroad, to take the open aire,
In royall sort, as bird of stately kinde:
Who hates foul storms; and loues mild weather fair,
And by great force, can bore the blostring wind,
To shew the grace, and greatnes of the minde,
My Phenix hath, that vertue growing greene,
When that abroad, her gracious face is seene.
In royall sort, as bird of stately kinde:
Who hates foul storms; and loues mild weather fair,
And by great force, can bore the blostring wind,
To shew the grace, and greatnes of the minde,
My Phenix hath, that vertue growing greene,
When that abroad, her gracious face is seene.
Let neither feare, of plagues nor wits of men,
Keepe Phenix close, that ought to liue in sight:
Of open world, for absence wrongs vs then,
To take from world, the Lampe that giues vs light,
O God forbid, our day were turnde to night,
And shining Sunne, in clowds should shrowded be,
Whose golden rayes, the world desires to see.
Keepe Phenix close, that ought to liue in sight:
Of open world, for absence wrongs vs then,
To take from world, the Lampe that giues vs light,
O God forbid, our day were turnde to night,
And shining Sunne, in clowds should shrowded be,
Whose golden rayes, the world desires to see.
The Dolphin daunts, each fish that swims in Seas,
The Lion feares, the greatest beast that goes:
The Bees in Hiue, are glad theyr King to please,
And to their Lord, each thing their duety knowes.
But first the King, his Princely presence showes,
Then subiects stoopes, and prostrate fals on face,
Or bowes down head, to giue their maister place.
The Lion feares, the greatest beast that goes:
The Bees in Hiue, are glad theyr King to please,
And to their Lord, each thing their duety knowes.
But first the King, his Princely presence showes,
Then subiects stoopes, and prostrate fals on face,
Or bowes down head, to giue their maister place.
The Sunne hath powre, to comfort flowrs and gras,
And purge the aire, of foule infections all:
Makes ech thing pure wher his clear beams do passe
Draws vp the dew, that mists and fogs lets fall,
My Phenix hath, a greater gift at call,
For vassals all, a view of her doe craue,
Because thereby, great hope and hap we haue.
212
Makes ech thing pure wher his clear beams do passe
Draws vp the dew, that mists and fogs lets fall,
My Phenix hath, a greater gift at call,
For vassals all, a view of her doe craue,
Because thereby, great hope and hap we haue.
Good turnes it brings, and suiters plaints are heard,
The poore are pleasde, the rich some purchase gains,
The wicked blush: the worthy wins reward,
The seruant findes: a meane to quit his paines:
The wronged man, by her some right attaines,
Thus euery one, that helpe and succour needes,
In hard distresse, on Phenix fauour feedes.
The poore are pleasde, the rich some purchase gains,
The wicked blush: the worthy wins reward,
The seruant findes: a meane to quit his paines:
The wronged man, by her some right attaines,
Thus euery one, that helpe and succour needes,
In hard distresse, on Phenix fauour feedes.
But from our view, if world doe Phenix keepe,
Both Sunne and Moone, and stars we bid farewell,
The heauens mourne, the earth will waile and weep.
The heauy heart, it feeles the paines of Hell,
Woe be to those, that in despaire doe dwell.
Was neuer plague, nor pestlence like to this,
When soules of men, haue lost such heauenly blisse.
Both Sunne and Moone, and stars we bid farewell,
The heauens mourne, the earth will waile and weep.
The heauy heart, it feeles the paines of Hell,
Woe be to those, that in despaire doe dwell.
Was neuer plague, nor pestlence like to this,
When soules of men, haue lost such heauenly blisse.
Now suters all, you may shoote vp your plaints
Your Goddes now, is lockt in shrine full fast:
You may perhaps, yet pray vnto her Saints.
Whose eares are stopt, and hearing sure is past.
Now in the fire, you may such Idols cast.
They cannot helpe, like stockes and stones they bee,
That haue no life, nor cannot heare nor see.
Your Goddes now, is lockt in shrine full fast:
You may perhaps, yet pray vnto her Saints.
Whose eares are stopt, and hearing sure is past.
Now in the fire, you may such Idols cast.
They cannot helpe, like stockes and stones they bee,
That haue no life, nor cannot heare nor see.
Till that at large, our royall Phenix comes,
Packe hence poore men, or picke your fingers endes.
Or blow your nailes, or gnaw and bite your thombs,
Till God aboue, some better fortune sends.
Who here abides, till this bad world amends,
May doe full well, as tides doe ebbe and flow,
So fortune turnes, and haps doe come and goe.
Packe hence poore men, or picke your fingers endes.
Or blow your nailes, or gnaw and bite your thombs,
Till God aboue, some better fortune sends.
213
May doe full well, as tides doe ebbe and flow,
So fortune turnes, and haps doe come and goe.
The bodies ioy, and all the ioints it beares,
Lies in the head, that may commaund the rest:
Let head but ake, the heart is full of feares,
And armes acrosse, we clap on troubled brest:
With heauy thoughts, the mind is so opprest.
That neither legs, nor feete haue will to goe,
As man himselfe, were cleane orecome with woe.
Lies in the head, that may commaund the rest:
Let head but ake, the heart is full of feares,
And armes acrosse, we clap on troubled brest:
With heauy thoughts, the mind is so opprest.
That neither legs, nor feete haue will to goe,
As man himselfe, were cleane orecome with woe.
The head is it, that still preserues the sence,
And seekes to saue, ech member from disease:
Deuise of head, is bodies whole defence:
The skill whereof, no part dare well displease,
For as the Moone, moues vp the mighty seas,
So head doth guide, the body when it will.
And rules the man, by wit and reasons skill.
And seekes to saue, ech member from disease:
Deuise of head, is bodies whole defence:
The skill whereof, no part dare well displease,
For as the Moone, moues vp the mighty seas,
So head doth guide, the body when it will.
And rules the man, by wit and reasons skill.
But how should head, in deede doe all this good,
When at our neede, no vse of head we haue:
The head is felt, is seene and vnderstood.
Then from disgrace, it will the body saue.
And otherwise, sicke man drops downe in graue.
For when no helpe, nor vse of head we finde,
The feete fals lame, and gazing eies grow blinde.
When at our neede, no vse of head we haue:
The head is felt, is seene and vnderstood.
Then from disgrace, it will the body saue.
And otherwise, sicke man drops downe in graue.
For when no helpe, nor vse of head we finde,
The feete fals lame, and gazing eies grow blinde.
The lims wax stiffe, for want of vse and aide,
The bones doe dry, their marrow wasts away:
The heart is dead, the body liues afraide,
The sinnowes shrinke, the bloud doth still decay,
So long as world, doth want the Star of day,
So long darke night, we shall be sure of heere,
For clowdy skies, I feare will neuer cleere.
The bones doe dry, their marrow wasts away:
The heart is dead, the body liues afraide,
The sinnowes shrinke, the bloud doth still decay,
So long as world, doth want the Star of day,
So long darke night, we shall be sure of heere,
For clowdy skies, I feare will neuer cleere.
214
God send some helpe, to salue sicke poore mens sores,
A boxe of baulme, would heale our woundes vp quite:
That precious oyle, would eate out rotten cores,
And giue great health, and man his whole delighte.
God send some sunne, in frostie morning white.
That cakes of yce may melt by gentle thaw:
And at well head, wee may some water drawe.
A boxe of baulme, would heale our woundes vp quite:
That precious oyle, would eate out rotten cores,
And giue great health, and man his whole delighte.
God send some sunne, in frostie morning white.
That cakes of yce may melt by gentle thaw:
And at well head, wee may some water drawe.
A Riddle.
Wee wish, wee want, yet haue that we desire:We freese, wee burne, and yet kept from the fire.
FINIS.
This is taken out of Belleau made of his own Mistresse.
Sad
sighes doth shew, the heat of heartes desire,
And sorrow speakes, by signes of heauie eyes:
So if hot flames, proceed from holly fire,
And loue may not, from vicious fancies eyes,
In tarrying time, and fauor of the skies,
My only good, and greatest hap doth lie:
In her that doth, all fond delight dispies:
Than turne to mee, sad sighes I shall not dye.
And sorrow speakes, by signes of heauie eyes:
So if hot flames, proceed from holly fire,
And loue may not, from vicious fancies eyes,
In tarrying time, and fauor of the skies,
My only good, and greatest hap doth lie:
In her that doth, all fond delight dispies:
Than turne to mee, sad sighes I shall not dye.
If that bee shee, who hath so much mee bound,
And makes me hers, as I were not mine owne:
Shee most to praise, that maie aliue bee founde,
Most great and good, and gracious througly knowne.
Shee all my hope, in briefe yea more than mine,
(That quickely maie, bring life by looke of eye)
Than come chaest sighes, a close record diuine,
Returne to mee, and I shall neuer dye.
And makes me hers, as I were not mine owne:
Shee most to praise, that maie aliue bee founde,
Most great and good, and gracious througly knowne.
Shee all my hope, in briefe yea more than mine,
215
Than come chaest sighes, a close record diuine,
Returne to mee, and I shall neuer dye.
If from young yeares shee gainde the garland gaye,
And wan the price, of all good giftes of grace:
If princely port, doe vertuous minde be wraie,
And royall power, be found by noble face,
If she bee borne, most happie graue and wise,
A Sibill sage, sent downe from heauens hie,
O smothring sightes, that faine would close mine eyes,
Returne to mee, so shall I neuer die.
And wan the price, of all good giftes of grace:
If princely port, doe vertuous minde be wraie,
And royall power, be found by noble face,
If she bee borne, most happie graue and wise,
A Sibill sage, sent downe from heauens hie,
O smothring sightes, that faine would close mine eyes,
Returne to mee, so shall I neuer die.
If most vpright, and faire of forme shee bee,
That may beare life, and sweetest manner showes,
Loues God, good men, and Countries wealth doth see,
A queene of kinges, all Christian princes knowes,
So iustly liues, that each man hath his owne,
Sets straight each state, that else would goe awrie:
Whereby her fame, abroad the world is blowne,
Then seace sad sighes, so shall I neuer die.
That may beare life, and sweetest manner showes,
Loues God, good men, and Countries wealth doth see,
A queene of kinges, all Christian princes knowes,
So iustly liues, that each man hath his owne,
Sets straight each state, that else would goe awrie:
Whereby her fame, abroad the world is blowne,
Then seace sad sighes, so shall I neuer die.
If shee the heart of Alexander haue,
The sharpe esprite, and hap of Haniball:
The constant mind, that Gods to Scipio gaue,
And Cæsars grace, whose triumphes passed all,
If in her thought, do dwell the iudgement great,
Of all that raignes, and rules from earth to skie:
(And sits this houre, in throne and regall seate),
Come sighes againe, your maister can not die.
The sharpe esprite, and hap of Haniball:
The constant mind, that Gods to Scipio gaue,
And Cæsars grace, whose triumphes passed all,
If in her thought, do dwell the iudgement great,
Of all that raignes, and rules from earth to skie:
(And sits this houre, in throne and regall seate),
Come sighes againe, your maister can not die.
If she be found, to tast the pearcing ayr,
In heat in colde, in frost, in snowe and rayne:
As diamond, that shines so passing faire,
That sunne nor moone, nor weather cannot staine:
If blastes of winde, and stormes to beautie yelde,
And this well springe, makes other fountaines drye,
(Turnes tides and floodes, to water baraine feeld,)
Come sighes then home, I liue and cannot die.
In heat in colde, in frost, in snowe and rayne:
As diamond, that shines so passing faire,
That sunne nor moone, nor weather cannot staine:
216
And this well springe, makes other fountaines drye,
(Turnes tides and floodes, to water baraine feeld,)
Come sighes then home, I liue and cannot die.
If her great giftes, doth daunt dame fortunes might,
And she haue caught, the hayres and head of hap:
To others hard, to her a matter light,
To mount the cloudes, and fall in honours lap.
If shee her selfe, and others conquers too,
Liues long in peace, and yet doth warre defie:
As valiaunt kinges, and vertuous victors doe,
Then sighe no more, o heart I cannot die.
And she haue caught, the hayres and head of hap:
To others hard, to her a matter light,
To mount the cloudes, and fall in honours lap.
If shee her selfe, and others conquers too,
Liues long in peace, and yet doth warre defie:
As valiaunt kinges, and vertuous victors doe,
Then sighe no more, o heart I cannot die.
If such a prince, abase her highnesse than,
For some good thing, the world may gesse in mee:
And stoupes so low, too like a sillie man,
That little knowes, what Princes grace may bee.
If shee well waie, my faith and seruice true,
And is the iudge, and toutch that gold shall trie:
The colour cleere, that neuer changeth hue,
Heart sigh no more, I liue and may not dye.
For some good thing, the world may gesse in mee:
And stoupes so low, too like a sillie man,
That little knowes, what Princes grace may bee.
If shee well waie, my faith and seruice true,
And is the iudge, and toutch that gold shall trie:
The colour cleere, that neuer changeth hue,
Heart sigh no more, I liue and may not dye.
If I doe vse, her fauour for wy weale,
By reason off, her gracious countenance still:
And from the sunne, a little light I steale,
To keepe the life, in lampe to burne at will.
If robberie thus, a true man may commit,
Both I and mine, vnto her merits flie:
If I presume, it springes for want of wit,
Excuse mee than, sad sighes or else I die.
By reason off, her gracious countenance still:
And from the sunne, a little light I steale,
To keepe the life, in lampe to burne at will.
If robberie thus, a true man may commit,
Both I and mine, vnto her merits flie:
If I presume, it springes for want of wit,
Excuse mee than, sad sighes or else I die.
If she do know, her shape in heart I beare,
Engraude in breast, her grace and figure is
Yea day and night, I thinke and dreame each where,
On nothing else, but on that heauenly blisse,
If so transformde, my mind and body liues,
But not consumde, nor finde no cause to cry.
And waite on her, that helpe and comfort giues.
Than come poore sighes, your maister shall not die.
Engraude in breast, her grace and figure is
Yea day and night, I thinke and dreame each where,
217
If so transformde, my mind and body liues,
But not consumde, nor finde no cause to cry.
And waite on her, that helpe and comfort giues.
Than come poore sighes, your maister shall not die.
If she behold, that here I wish no breath,
But liue all hers, in thought in word and deede:
Whose fauour lost, I craue but present death,
Whose grace attaind, lean soule full fat shall feede.
If any cause, doe keepe her from my sight,
I know no world, my selfe I shall deny,
But if her torch, doe lend my candle light,
Heart sigh no more, the body doth not die.
But liue all hers, in thought in word and deede:
Whose fauour lost, I craue but present death,
Whose grace attaind, lean soule full fat shall feede.
If any cause, doe keepe her from my sight,
I know no world, my selfe I shall deny,
But if her torch, doe lend my candle light,
Heart sigh no more, the body doth not die.
But if by death, or some disgrace of mine,
Through enuies sting, or false report of foes.
My view be bard, from that sweete face diuine.
Beleeue for troth, to death her seruant goes,
And rather sure, than I should ill conceiue:
Sighes mount to skies, you know the cause and why.
How here below, my lusty life I leaue,
Attend me there, for wounded heart must die.
Through enuies sting, or false report of foes.
My view be bard, from that sweete face diuine.
Beleeue for troth, to death her seruant goes,
And rather sure, than I should ill conceiue:
Sighes mount to skies, you know the cause and why.
How here below, my lusty life I leaue,
Attend me there, for wounded heart must die.
If shee beleeue, without her presence heere,
That any thing, may now content my minde:
Or thinke in world, is sparke of gladsome cheere,
Where shee is not, nor I her presence finde:
But all the ioyes, that man imagine may,
As handmaides wayt, on her heere vnder sky,
Then sighes mount vp, to heauens hold your way,
And stay me there, for I of force must die.
That any thing, may now content my minde:
Or thinke in world, is sparke of gladsome cheere,
Where shee is not, nor I her presence finde:
But all the ioyes, that man imagine may,
As handmaides wayt, on her heere vnder sky,
Then sighes mount vp, to heauens hold your way,
And stay me there, for I of force must die.
If I may feare, that fragill beauty light,
Or semblance faire, is to be doubted sore:
Or my vaine youth, may turne with fancies might,
Or sighes full falles, fains griefe or torment more:
Than heart doth feele, then angry stars aboue,
Doe band your selues, gainst me in heauens hie.
And rigor worke, to conquer constant loue,
Mount vp poore sighes, here is no helpe I die.
Or semblance faire, is to be doubted sore:
218
Or sighes full falles, fains griefe or torment more:
Than heart doth feele, then angry stars aboue,
Doe band your selues, gainst me in heauens hie.
And rigor worke, to conquer constant loue,
Mount vp poore sighes, here is no helpe I die.
And so sad sighes, the witnes of my thought,
If loue finde not, true guerdon for good will:
Ere that to graue, my body shalbe brought,
Mount vp to clowds, and there abide me still,
But if good hope, and hap some succour send,
And honor doth, my vertuous minde supply,
With treble blisse, for which I long attend,
Returne good sighes, I meane not now to die.
If loue finde not, true guerdon for good will:
Ere that to graue, my body shalbe brought,
Mount vp to clowds, and there abide me still,
But if good hope, and hap some succour send,
And honor doth, my vertuous minde supply,
With treble blisse, for which I long attend,
Returne good sighes, I meane not now to die.
FINIS.
[In hat a fauour worne, a bird of gold in Britaine land]
In hat a fauour worne, a bird of gold in Britaine land,In loyall heart is borne, yet doth on head like Phenix stand.
To set my Phenix forth, whose vetues may thē al surmount,
An orient pearle more worth, in value price & good accounnt,
Thē gold or precious stone, what tong or verse dare her distain.
A peerelesse paragon, in whom such gladsome gifts remaine.
Whose seemly shape is wroght, as out of wax wer made ye mold
By fine deuise of thought, like shrined Saint in beaten gold,
Dame nature did disdaine, and thought great scorn in any sort,
To make the like againe, that should deserue such rare report.
219
Nor flatring frase of mē, whose filed spech giues ech thing grace
To praise this worthy dame, a Nimph which Dian holds full deer
That in such perfect frame, as mirror bright & christal cleer
Is set out to our view, threefold as faire as shining Sunne,
For beauty grace and hue, a worke that hath great glory won,
A Goddes dropt from sky, for causes more then men may know
To please both minde & eie for those that dwels on earth below
And shew what heauenly grace, and noble secret power diuine.
Is seene in Princely face, that kind hath formd & framd so fine.
Loe this is all I write, of sacred Phenix ten times blest,
To shew mine own delite, as fancies humor thinketh best.
FINIS.
A FAREVVELL VVHEN I VVENT to studie, written to the VVorld.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFULL,
my Ladie Brocket, wife to Sir Iohn Brocket
knight, one of the Lieutenants of Hartford Shire.
220
Too dearly bought, I find thy follies all:
Who shall thee serue, is sure to suffer wronge:
Who scornes thy haps, may shun thy sodaine fall
Who fauwnes on thee, shall drinke thy bitter gall:
Who flies thy toyes, thy painted face shall finde,
Who sooner slides, than those which at thy call,
Liues like thy slaues, in bodie, soule, and minde.
First from a child, with fancies was I fedd,
All at thy handes, till I to manhoode grue:
Than in the darke, loe blindfeld was I led
So that my God, my selfe, nor man I knew,
221
Made mee forget, my dutie all at once.
Faire thinges, foule thoughts, fond workes & flattring ease,
Had muffled mee, and hoodwinckt so my wits
That in the stormes, I drade no Sillas seas,
Nor in the calmes I scarde no frowarde fits
Which were to come: thinges present pleasde me best
Those gone I made no mirror to the rest.
Bed soft, full mouth, gay backe and foolish fame,
Was all I sought, like Lord to liue at lust
At my nown shape, and shadowe had I game,
A looking glasse, a plaiffeer trim at trust
To prie vppon, my life thus did I frame
Cleane out of tune, I see it now full well
So that my life, was carelesse eury dell,
Yet founde I haue, a heape of other harmes
Therereby: what then, I cannot them amende,
When deade they seeme, than spring they vp by swarmes.
Such mischiefe ript, will haue a rotten ende
Though at the full, the tide of them is now,
The Ebbe may come, when God a time shall send,
Leaue that to him, and I shall tell you how,
I learnde to know, the kind and course of man,
His nature new, his fashion halfe disguisde,
And how for shame, at length loe I beganne
To follow that, which I afore despisde.
Full welcome ought, that learning bee to mee
Which taught me wit, when wildnes weaude the loeme
Of wanton wayes, and blindnesse ganne to see
The path hee mist, the waie that led me home
Unto the Port, where I would harboured bee.
And rather dwell, with quiet setled minde,
Then roue abroade, to seeke vncertaine lucke,
Or subiect bee, to filthy worldly mucke.
I would not sure, be bound to suhc a clogge,
222
And in the ende, but fish and catch a frogge,
As some haue done, and some doe vse it still,
Which snatch the bone, before the hungrie dogge
Who will not parte, from that hee hath in holde
Althoug in deede, his mayster would it haue:
Unto this ende, this tale now I haue tolde,
To shew him wise, that knoweth what to craue.
And askes of those, that freely giues for nought,
But hee most wise, that hath no greedie thought.
And can content, him with those little scraps,
That fals by lot, vnto him for his share,
And findes no fault, at others wordly haps,
But hath a head, as free from inward care.
As babe new borne, yea such a one may smile,
And laugh his fill, where some cries woe the pye:
Hee shall see much, that hath a simple eye:
That man shall see, the stronge the weake beguile,
The poore by ritch, and mightie swallowed vp,
The harmelesse drinke, out of the poisoned cup.
The needy lacke, that greedy raueners gripe,
The theeues let goe, that robbes in veluet weedes:
And sits on bench, when truth feeles many a stripe.
How feare is dubd, a knight for simple dedes,
How manhood begges, and none are helpt that needs
How creepe in holes, that did no hurt at all,
Are valiaunt cald, such are the peoples brute:
The quiet man, these thinges beholde he shall,
And see them passe, and learne thereby some fruite.
As I haue done, though farre from quiet minde,
In any case, my selfe God wot I finde.
Saue that to toyle, and but thens for to beare,
I framed am, and lettes the world alone:
Amid my foes, that fawnes and speaks full feare.
I liue aloufe, and will not bee aknowne.
223
As doth those mates, which play at fortunes ball:
Do not some halt, that well may goe vpright:
Who can denie, but wee dissemble all
In some one point, and wisdome wee it call
Thinges are not found, as they doe seeme to sight.
Some laugh in heart, yet shewe a weeping eye,
You haue hard say, the blinde eates manie a flie.
How should the sad, with wantons mirth agree,
The whole with sicke, the wise with foolish dwell:
The proud with meeke, the meane with mightie bee
If all these sortes, could not dissemble well.
And euen so, it fareth nowe by mee
I wincke at thinges, that I would not be holde.
And see those fall, that profits mee no whit,
I heare likewise, that I can wish vntold:
I shoote with them, that neuer marke may hit:
But mee beleeue, yet winne the game I would.
Among that sort, that giuet ayme to sit.
I like not sure: I rather wish to bet
Then looke vppon, and lay on [illeg.].
Set doubts a part, it is good sport to get.
But he that winnes, must hazard needes abide,
(I leaue you there) I would so make my game,
It were halfe won, before the match were tride,
And make him thinke. that hits the marke is wide.
And say himselfe, he roueth out of frame,
I pray you now, who would not doe the same,
To gaine thereby, or else at least to saue,
Then graunt me this, dissemble sure ye must,
As I may doe, or in time past I haue.
And made some blinde, that better saw then I.
And saw full oft, that I would not perceiue,
When that thereon, did life or daunger lie:
And yet I lookt, and [illeg.] by your leaue,
224
And as I fled, ill fortune followed fast,
When shee should strike, I scaped many a knocke,
By douking downe, I knew so well her cast,
With cap and knee, her fauour soone I wan.
So in a while, shee tooke me as her man.
But when I thought, most hold of her to take,
Away shee went, the whirle winde in her taile.
Yet with her friends, faire weather did I make.
Whose helpe was good, when world began to faile.
And if you aske, how I acquainted was,
With such sure props, that holdes vp house and all,
And how that I, could bring such things to passe.
To keepe me vp, when diuerse sought my fall.
(His fall not great, it cannot be I trow,
Whose climing vp, was neuer much you know)
This by the way, I speake yet aunswere loe,
To you I make, that this demaunds of me,
To court I came, where I could heare and see,
As others did, and with the strong I stood,
As world did wag, I wound my barke about.
And leand me there, where I could finde most good,
In deede this was, the way to beare it out,
And there I found, of euery sort inow:
Would I be braue, I knew where mates were had,
Would I be stoute, I saw who will not bow,
Hie lookes was he, that still I saw goe throw,
That ship made way, that all the sailes could beare.
Small sprite sate low, with finger in his eare,
Great curchy crept, full hie among the best.
He made them laugh, that lookt as he would sweare,
He carried coales, that could abide no gest.
Plaine life the lout, was little set by there,
Fine taunting tongues, brought many a foole in fear
Make loue the meeke, was ready at a call.
225
Set foorth to sale, was markt beyond them all.
Uaine glorie smilde, and lookt for much adoe,
New-fanglenesse, shakt off old friendship past,
Fine fall at foote, could whine and bite you toe,
Proud blind conceit, would not bee placed last.
Small wit would laugh, at wiser than him selfe,
Disdaine that dwarft, lookt like a peeuish elfe.
Straunge nature fround, when homely folkes sate downe,
Full purse found friendes, that came to late to towne.
Set by himselfe, would not salute but fewe:
Small worth made boast, still mouth was all the shrewe.
Tell all that blab, was calde a royster than,
False semblaunce thriude, that could two faces beare.
Happie was hee, that was a turnecoates man,
They sped not worst, that counterfayted weare,
Do as world did, draue off the longest time:
He had the landes, that was Dicke shifters eare,
He caught the birdes, that best could set the lime,
Yet broken shinnes, some gate that vsde to clyme.
Spite spurnde at those, that better sped than hee,
All busie heades, could not on shoulders bide:
They met full oft, that seldome could agree,
Who fell so soone, as wit orematch with pride?
Who rose but such, as ruffled foorth their yeares,
Yet change of sutes, brought many in the bryers.
White plummes cost pence, apparell pickt the purse
All worne in Court, was not in Citie payde,
Sharpe set, said oft, backe cloutes made belly worse.
Bare cloake he ware, whose credite was decayed,
Catch nought poore knaue, could Court and Courtiers curse,
Spend all sate still, and looked like a maide,
Hope well made spoyle, and waighted for a day,
Unthrift would sweare, and dice it all away.
Tosse blade would snuffe, and shake a swinish heade,
226
Saue-grote smeld out; where hunger may be sped,
Proude would not speake, that sate not at the top.
When lurch was out, some knew not where to dine,
Who keepes the barre, was asked euery houre,
Some speake full faire, to get a cup of wine,
God saue yee sir, will please you take a flower.
A sweete red Rose, hee had that kept good cheere:
And many a cap, and courchy to the grounde,
An officer still, was made of all the yeare,
Old stagers knew, where such a friend was founde.
Young frie might fast, for any thing they gate,
New commers walkt, abroad for taking colde:
Full paunch did martch, as hee had beene a state,
Who lookes like me, thought he that chippings solde
UUhen Christmas roobes, were brusht & that day worne,
Well was that man, might bid that sainct good morne.
Beare rule stood stiffe, and kept his betters out,
Boldface thrust in, throw thickest prease and throng,
Hoffe haue at all, full hie could hold the snout,
Speake as hee thought, was not in fauour long,
Find fault the foole, would flyer in each mans face,
Rich rulde the rost, lacke friends felt all the wrong.
Bare life knew not, to whom to shew his case,
Wast all the wield, might sing a heauy song.
Hoyst vp in hast, forget from whence hee came
Hie office scornde, to looke backe how hee clymde,
Hogge Norton breed, disdaine to know their dame,
Pride fearde no fall, till foote full fast was lymde,
Snatch scratched all, and giue his fellows none,
Neede lickt the plates, and gnawed bare the bone,
Mounch present crept, in corners all alone.
Hauocke was made, where meat was little seene:
Unworthy of bread, fardewell God saue the Queene.
Spoyle would not spare, his charges was but small,
227
Seeke helpe, spake faire, yet sloly sped his sute,
Giue bribes was heard, his money tould his tale,
Lacke nought had more, but want could find no fruite
Neede blew his nailes, and looked verie stale.
Skill for a shifte, was glad to teach for pence,
Old hangers on, would not be beaten thence.
Wit did inuent, but wealth bare all the brute:
Boldnesse did speake, when bashnes was full mute.
Cunning wrought much, but craft beyond him crept,
Poets made rimes, but roysters praises rept,
Wisedome would waite, on many a woodcock oft,
Old broomes were good, but new all cleane they swept,
Loue ease sate long, and lookt to lie full softe.
Eate much would boast, he serud our suffrant long,
Fat browes Knightes, I tell you tooke great payne,
Some went full gaie, that was not worth a thong.
Some threw at all, and nicked euery mayne.
Hee talkt of warres, that had small wit in peace,
Scarse knew himselfe, would common wealthes debate:
He spake great thinges, that swelted in his greace.
Witlesse wel dinde, would be a Lordes checke mate,
Loe croucht vnto, a sore Discourse would make,
Make roume my friends (quoth he) that kept the gate
Craft had a care, to all hee did or spake,
Unwelcome guestes, stept in and axt no leaue,
Some pleasde the prince, yet had the peoples hate.
Some serude them both, and did them both deceiue.
He neare sate still, that courried fauor well:
Some playde the foxe, that like a goose could looke,
Some askd what newes, and yet could wonders tell,
Small mind of God, would often beare a booke,
He went to masse, that would the Challice sell,
Some loude the Church, for the sweete relickes there
Some made of saincts, brought vp another where:
228
Some like this world, more than the world to come:
Some in their ruffe, would iet about the hall,
Some spent such nights, they dread no day of dome,
Some watch their time, and yet their time they lost,
Some banquets made, and weare banckrout at last:
Some learnde to bee, fine Courtiers to their cost.
Some had small helpe, and yet spent all full fast.
Some sought to spend, vppon anothers charge,
Some carelesse liude, and walkt abroad at large,
Some craude apace, and caught some crummes by craft,
Some could not aske, they thought desarts should craue,
Some made faire sale, of blades louse in the haft.
Some neuer wanne, nor could deuise to saue.
Some wayted hard, but gate small fruite therefore,
Some had ill happe, and yet no vertue lackt:
Some saude odde endes, and made of little more,
Some had their bagges, as full as could bee thwakt.
Some made colde mirth, yet fauoured for such vice,
Who Fortune liket, was euer most in price.
All this in Court, I saw of them good store
Full twentie yeares, as trial good I haue,
Not of Court now, as Court hath beene of yore,
I write, I speake, and treat so God mee saue.
To show wherefore, from thence I mee withdrew,
What harme it did, vnto my betters farre.
What good likewise, hee gate that Court well knew,
Now some did make, and some therein did marre.
But to bee playne, where I such chaunges founde,
I list not dwell, let them that will bee bounde
To that short rayne, I choose the quiet soyle
The Countrey large, to haue free scope to walke,
To bee in Court, I count it but a toyle.
Where harte much thinkes, and tongue dare little talke.
Where some must site, and looke vppon the walles:
229
And subiects are, to others becks and cals,
That life is weake, wherein their is no stay,
A peece of bread, is better had with eas.
Then bankets sweete, vppon such bitter bordes
Some say there is, no fishing to the Seas,
Yet many Troutes, are caught on little fordes,
That shallow seeme, with other pretty fishe.
That at the length, will make an honest dishe,
On little brookes, men angle safe and dry.
In leather bootes, and dread no drowning there,
On these rough Seas, the least winde in the sky.
Tipes vp the Barke, or brings a man in feare,
Some haue no hearts, with roaring waues to striue.
Full greene to sight, and vggly to the eie.
Which on the rockes, the silly vessels driue.
And knocks their Keeles, and makes poore Pilots cry
Hale in the saile, let goe the bowling mate.
Now in good faith, such soddaine shocks I hate,
Yet some will thinke, I am not setled so,
But I will seeke, to try the Sea againe,
Why is the Earth, so narrow would I know,
I cannot finde, where I may well remaine.
The world is wide, and men must burthens beare,
That ordaind are, vnto no better chance.
That growes not here, takes roote an other where,
Some shooteth ill, yet hapneth by a glaunce,
To hit their game, men ought to doe their best.
And seeke their lucke, and let God worke the rest.
So for my part, I shall likewise proceede,
And though I bid, the Court and world farewell,
I meane to vse, them both as I haue neede.
But for to say, in Court I wish to dwell,
I minde it not, as God me helpe and speede,
And for the world, his yoke still draw I must.
230
For in the same, is neither hope nor trust,
Wherefore my leaue, I take as powre I haue,
From him and his, though course of life saith no.
A worldling here, I must be to my graue.
For this is but, a May game mixt with woe,
A borrowde roulme, where we our Pageants playe.
A skaffold plaine, whereon we reuels make.
A crooked path, a parlous false high way,
A toilesome soile, where we much trauell take,
Good Reader now, doe neither sting nor hisse,
At any thing, that in this verse is plaest,
Where fault is found, for fauour mend the misse.
This rouing rime, was slubberd vp in hast,
And nought thereby, the simple writer ment,
But neither Court, nor world could him content.
FINIS.
A Tragicall Discourse of a dolorous Gentlewoman, dedicated to all those Ladyes that holdes good name precious.
You
wiues that wish, to liue with worlds renowne,
And wisely way, the worth of precious fame:
Come heare the voice, that giues a woefull sowne.
Come heare her tale, that dare not shew her name
Come Countrey youth, come noble Courtly Dame.
And marke my words, whose workes in wondring daies,
With double blotte, redounds to my dispraise.
And wisely way, the worth of precious fame:
Come heare the voice, that giues a woefull sowne.
Come heare her tale, that dare not shew her name
Come Countrey youth, come noble Courtly Dame.
And marke my words, whose workes in wondring daies,
With double blotte, redounds to my dispraise.
From tender yeares, till twenty two were past,
I nourisht was, at pompe at pleasures paps,
But who can tell, how long our ioy shall last:
For greatest calmes, comes oft to thunder claps,
And sweetest hopes, doe change to sowrest haps,
O tickle time, that wanders swift as winde,
With haire before, and bare and bald behind.
231
But who can tell, how long our ioy shall last:
For greatest calmes, comes oft to thunder claps,
And sweetest hopes, doe change to sowrest haps,
O tickle time, that wanders swift as winde,
With haire before, and bare and bald behind.
No gripe nor hand, can take sure hold of thee,
Thou flitst so fast, and leaues the world at worst,
Looke what time brings, time takes away you see.
Good time is blest, bad time we hold accorst.
Time hurts them oft, that time did helpe at forst,
Looke what we haue, when youth is most in prime,
That shall we want, in age by course of time.
Thou flitst so fast, and leaues the world at worst,
Looke what time brings, time takes away you see.
Good time is blest, bad time we hold accorst.
Time hurts them oft, that time did helpe at forst,
Looke what we haue, when youth is most in prime,
That shall we want, in age by course of time.
My fresh delights, doe fall and fade like flowre,
The blossomes gay, from beauties buds are gone,
Our state of life, doth alter euery howre,
As pleasures passe, come sorrowes pacing on,
The world it selfe, is like a rowling stone,
And on such wheeles, our tombling haps doe runne,
They slide as swift, as shadow in the Sunne.
The blossomes gay, from beauties buds are gone,
Our state of life, doth alter euery howre,
As pleasures passe, come sorrowes pacing on,
The world it selfe, is like a rowling stone,
And on such wheeles, our tombling haps doe runne,
They slide as swift, as shadow in the Sunne.
Whiles carelesse witte, doth carry youth about,
(To sports and plaies, that doth from pastime rise)
The merry minde, is voide of feare and doubt,
And all the powres, are glad to please the eyes,
But when wilde head, or wanton waxeth wise,
The waighty thoughts, that deepe foresight retaines,
Brings troubled sleepes, and breaks the quiet brains.
(To sports and plaies, that doth from pastime rise)
The merry minde, is voide of feare and doubt,
And all the powres, are glad to please the eyes,
But when wilde head, or wanton waxeth wise,
The waighty thoughts, that deepe foresight retaines,
Brings troubled sleepes, and breaks the quiet brains.
In childishe daies, I made no count of chaunce,
When friends tooke care, to match me to their will,
So hoping long, good hap would me aduaunce,
I kept me free, from wedlockes bondage still.
But parents wise, that had good worldly skill,
With open checks, rebukt the causes chiefe,
The more they stirde, the greater grew my griefe.
When friends tooke care, to match me to their will,
So hoping long, good hap would me aduaunce,
I kept me free, from wedlockes bondage still.
232
With open checks, rebukt the causes chiefe,
The more they stirde, the greater grew my griefe.
As when a sore, is rubde and handled hard,
The lesse it heales, because yee touch it neere:
O Fathers graue, if that you tooke regard,
How that with checks, you vse your children deere,
(Or in your moodes, you would some reason heere.
They should be ioynde, where they great ioy should haue.
And you of them, enioy the thing you craue.
The lesse it heales, because yee touch it neere:
O Fathers graue, if that you tooke regard,
How that with checks, you vse your children deere,
(Or in your moodes, you would some reason heere.
They should be ioynde, where they great ioy should haue.
And you of them, enioy the thing you craue.
But wilfull men, (that wealth may wrest awry)
Will force poore babes, to marry or to morne:
What father wil, the childe may not deny.
He hurts his shins, against the pricke shall spurne,
When match is made, it is past time to turne.
When silly Lambe, is to the slaughter led,
The Butchar brags, the simple Sheepe is dead.
Will force poore babes, to marry or to morne:
What father wil, the childe may not deny.
He hurts his shins, against the pricke shall spurne,
When match is made, it is past time to turne.
When silly Lambe, is to the slaughter led,
The Butchar brags, the simple Sheepe is dead.
And yet in deede, twere better children smart,
(And match in time, as cause and matter moues).
Then childrens choise, should breake the fathers hart
Or breede debate, as wilfull marriage proues,
Short is the ioy, of them that longest loues,
When want comes on, and woe begins to wring:
For lacke is thrall, and slaue to euery thing.
(And match in time, as cause and matter moues).
Then childrens choise, should breake the fathers hart
Or breede debate, as wilfull marriage proues,
Short is the ioy, of them that longest loues,
When want comes on, and woe begins to wring:
For lacke is thrall, and slaue to euery thing.
Loue is not now, as loue hath beene of old,
(A gamesome babe, to dandle on the knee)
Loue cares for nought, but land and bags of gold,
That keepes both man, and horse in stable free,
They haue no witt, that other louers be,
Wealth maister is, and porter of the gate:
That lets in loue, when want shall come to late.
(A gamesome babe, to dandle on the knee)
Loue cares for nought, but land and bags of gold,
That keepes both man, and horse in stable free,
They haue no witt, that other louers be,
Wealth maister is, and porter of the gate:
That lets in loue, when want shall come to late.
231
Well as it was, my friends could doe no good,
My fortune bore, the sway and ruled all,
And I full long, on will and freedome stood:
Till flesh and bloud, must needs to fancy fall.
And then though hap, and worldly wealth was small
I lighted where, I likte and loued well;
And where I vowde, for terme of life to dwell.
My fortune bore, the sway and ruled all,
And I full long, on will and freedome stood:
Till flesh and bloud, must needs to fancy fall.
And then though hap, and worldly wealth was small
I lighted where, I likte and loued well;
And where I vowde, for terme of life to dwell.
My choise was likte, for many gifts of grace,
He had, though wealth, sometime was not at will:
And for his sake, in many a noble place,
I welcome was, and purchast fauour still.
My candle blasde, like torch on top of hill:
And for content, of minde where loue doth rest.
Mine owne poore choise, might passe among the best.
He had, though wealth, sometime was not at will:
And for his sake, in many a noble place,
I welcome was, and purchast fauour still.
My candle blasde, like torch on top of hill:
And for content, of minde where loue doth rest.
Mine owne poore choise, might passe among the best.
Long liude we thus, at home and eke abroad,
When kindred cleane, in deede forsooke vs both.
What burthen fell, I helpt to beare the load:
And glad in world, to taste how Fortune goth,
The minde I had, to God and sacred othe,
Made me refuse, no trauaile for his sake,
Whome of free will, I choose to be my make.
When kindred cleane, in deede forsooke vs both.
What burthen fell, I helpt to beare the load:
And glad in world, to taste how Fortune goth,
The minde I had, to God and sacred othe,
Made me refuse, no trauaile for his sake,
Whome of free will, I choose to be my make.
The Seas we sailde, the land we rode about,
The Court we saw, the towne we dwelt long in:
The fields we walkt, the gardens gay throughout,
We went vnto, where many a feast hath bin,
We could not sincke, for hap held vp the chin.
He prosperd well, and looke what God had sent,
With louing wife, at home the same he spent.
The Court we saw, the towne we dwelt long in:
The fields we walkt, the gardens gay throughout,
We went vnto, where many a feast hath bin,
We could not sincke, for hap held vp the chin.
He prosperd well, and looke what God had sent,
With louing wife, at home the same he spent.
He tooke great paines, to come by that he had,
And trauailde sore, through many a forraine soile:
To bring that home, that makes the houshold glad.
And keepe the wife, and houshold folke from foile,
And I tooke care, that nothing went to spoile,
And looke in deede, what things that I did lacke,
Was seene in face, or found vppon my backe.
And trauailde sore, through many a forraine soile:
To bring that home, that makes the houshold glad.
233
And I tooke care, that nothing went to spoile,
And looke in deede, what things that I did lacke,
Was seene in face, or found vppon my backe.
The world might see, I went in garments good,
Though small I brought, to him as I confesse:
I spent him much, and at great charge I stood.
Which brings strong harts, somtime to great distres.
But neuer that, might make his loue the lesse.
For looke how he his liking first beganne,
In fine for troth, he proude the selfe same manne.
Though small I brought, to him as I confesse:
I spent him much, and at great charge I stood.
Which brings strong harts, somtime to great distres.
But neuer that, might make his loue the lesse.
For looke how he his liking first beganne,
In fine for troth, he proude the selfe same manne.
I could not sleepe, but where in bed he lay,
I could not eate, but where he sate at boorde:
I could not laugh, when liking was away,
I silent sat, gaue he but halfe a woorde.
Ill newes of him, strake me with mortall sword,
His minde and mine, did draw so in one yoke,
The selfe same fittes, he felt where of I spoke.
I could not eate, but where he sate at boorde:
I could not laugh, when liking was away,
I silent sat, gaue he but halfe a woorde.
Ill newes of him, strake me with mortall sword,
His minde and mine, did draw so in one yoke,
The selfe same fittes, he felt where of I spoke.
Full seauen yeares, this constant course we kept,
Though often times, there happened houshold iarrs,
And tratling tales, that in betweene vs crept.
Made many wounds, where yet remains the scarrs.
Yet alwaies peace, tooke vp our brawling warrs,
And we did seeke, to salue each others sore:
And passe old griefes, and thinke thereon no more.
Though often times, there happened houshold iarrs,
And tratling tales, that in betweene vs crept.
Made many wounds, where yet remains the scarrs.
Yet alwaies peace, tooke vp our brawling warrs,
And we did seeke, to salue each others sore:
And passe old griefes, and thinke thereon no more.
Sweete is that peace, that patcheth vp great harmes,
Sharpe is the warre, that teares a house in twaine.
Woe worth those words, that brings in braules by swarms.
Darke be those cloudes, that alwaies threatens raine.
Curst be the cause, that breedeth woe and paine,
And damnde in Hell, those subtill spirites shal be:
That councell gaue, to part my choise from me.
Sharpe is the warre, that teares a house in twaine.
Woe worth those words, that brings in braules by swarms.
Darke be those cloudes, that alwaies threatens raine.
Curst be the cause, that breedeth woe and paine,
And damnde in Hell, those subtill spirites shal be:
233
Well as our chaunce, together was to ioyne,
And dwell long while, as here in briefe you hard:
So happe came on, (through hope of wealth or coine)
And drew my choise, where he might be prefarde,
To warres, and I, that had a great regard:
To him that time, when I his minde did know:
Gaue my consent, that he to warres should goe.
And dwell long while, as here in briefe you hard:
So happe came on, (through hope of wealth or coine)
And drew my choise, where he might be prefarde,
To warres, and I, that had a great regard:
To him that time, when I his minde did know:
Gaue my consent, that he to warres should goe.
With sighes and sobs, and bitter teares among,
We parted tho, with promise surely past:
That one should heare, from other ere twere long,
And sadly so, we seured at the last,
His goods, his gold, his friends both firme and fast.
He left me then, to comfort me withall,
But nere a childe, as Fortune so did fall.
We parted tho, with promise surely past:
That one should heare, from other ere twere long,
And sadly so, we seured at the last,
His goods, his gold, his friends both firme and fast.
He left me then, to comfort me withall,
But nere a childe, as Fortune so did fall.
He past the seas, and sent me tokens still,
And money such, as might supply my neede:
And for to shew, his faith and great good will,
Long Letters large, he made that I might reede.
Of promise past, and to come home in deede,
But to what end, should serue this businesse great,
My minde was turnde, warme loue had lost his heat.
And money such, as might supply my neede:
And for to shew, his faith and great good will,
Long Letters large, he made that I might reede.
Of promise past, and to come home in deede,
But to what end, should serue this businesse great,
My minde was turnde, warme loue had lost his heat.
A new fine man, both young and apt for chaunge,
I chose, and cleane, forgat my former ioy:
And in a while, I was become so straunge.
As Hagard Hauke, that takes in head a toy,
And flees from Lure, and waxeth nice and coy.
My wedlocke now, not hearing of these newes,
Made no hast home, till I was ore the shewes.
I chose, and cleane, forgat my former ioy:
And in a while, I was become so straunge.
As Hagard Hauke, that takes in head a toy,
And flees from Lure, and waxeth nice and coy.
My wedlocke now, not hearing of these newes,
Made no hast home, till I was ore the shewes.
Yet knacks I wrought, to bleare my husbands eies,
I made a bruite, be blowne that I was dead:
When that he heard, he did his life despise:
And so forsooke, sleepe, rest, and tast of bread,
He rent his haire, he sadly shooke his head,
He walkt the woods, and shunned all repaire,
As one would be, deuourd with fowles of thaire.
234
When that he heard, he did his life despise:
And so forsooke, sleepe, rest, and tast of bread,
He rent his haire, he sadly shooke his head,
He walkt the woods, and shunned all repaire,
As one would be, deuourd with fowles of thaire.
He daily bledde, when little foode he tooke,
He would not come, where woemen were in place,
And he so leane, and like a Ghost did looke.
That Death it selfe, was seene amid his face,
A noble Earle, as he beheld this case:
Brake with the man, that thus tormented was,
And so in sports, the troubled time did passe.
He would not come, where woemen were in place,
And he so leane, and like a Ghost did looke.
That Death it selfe, was seene amid his face,
A noble Earle, as he beheld this case:
Brake with the man, that thus tormented was,
And so in sports, the troubled time did passe.
But ague fits and sicknesse followed on,
That in poore plite came home my husband thoe,
Not leane in purse, but bare and neere the bone,
The bodye then, was worne with warre and woe,
And yet full sound, as al the world might know,
His limmes I saw, but I so nice did waxe:
There was no flame, of fire might come to flaxe.
That in poore plite came home my husband thoe,
Not leane in purse, but bare and neere the bone,
The bodye then, was worne with warre and woe,
And yet full sound, as al the world might know,
His limmes I saw, but I so nice did waxe:
There was no flame, of fire might come to flaxe.
For I could weepe, and quench by cunning art,
The hottest loue, that euer husband bore:
And so two yeares, I plaied a Foxes part,
Which ere I die, I may repent full sore,
My husbands bedde, I shund, and furthermore,
I fainde I had, a sickenesse let it goe,
I neuer minde, that folly forth to shoe.
The hottest loue, that euer husband bore:
And so two yeares, I plaied a Foxes part,
Which ere I die, I may repent full sore,
My husbands bedde, I shund, and furthermore,
I fainde I had, a sickenesse let it goe,
I neuer minde, that folly forth to shoe.
A finer tricke, to compasse that I sought,
I plaide through sleight, and casting figures trim:
To my good man, a bastard girle I brought,
And from my friend, presented her to him:
Hee saw thereby, the flud runne ore the brime,
Yet kept it close, and sayd nothing at all:
Till out by chaunce, might further matter fall.
I plaide through sleight, and casting figures trim:
To my good man, a bastard girle I brought,
And from my friend, presented her to him:
235
Yet kept it close, and sayd nothing at all:
Till out by chaunce, might further matter fall.
And alwayes would, my husbande tell mee plaine,
I did him wronge, to keepe mee from his bedde:
But I could vse, him in a pleasaunt vaine.
And make him soone, forgett that hee had sedde.
My doore was lockt, howe ere I layde my head,
My maydes and I, kept solempne cheare alone:
Howeuer playne, poore husbande made his mone.
I did him wronge, to keepe mee from his bedde:
But I could vse, him in a pleasaunt vaine.
And make him soone, forgett that hee had sedde.
My doore was lockt, howe ere I layde my head,
My maydes and I, kept solempne cheare alone:
Howeuer playne, poore husbande made his mone.
Two yeares this wise, I shoeffled Cardes full cleane,
Till husband spied, a Letter of my hande:
Whereby hee found, what follie I did meane,
But I was bent, against my deede to stande.
So faest him down, and swore when all was scande
It was not mine, but as hee soundly slept:
To his beds side, my mayde and I wee stept.
Till husband spied, a Letter of my hande:
Whereby hee found, what follie I did meane,
But I was bent, against my deede to stande.
So faest him down, and swore when all was scande
It was not mine, but as hee soundly slept:
To his beds side, my mayde and I wee stept.
And heaude him vp, and so from bolster than,
Wee tooke his purse, wherein the Letter laye:
When that wee had, wee left the sillie man,
As saffe as hee, that sleepes in Cocke of haye,
Well, when he lookt, in purse the other daye,
And found my fraude, and falshood as it was:
Out of the doore, in furie did hee passe.
Wee tooke his purse, wherein the Letter laye:
When that wee had, wee left the sillie man,
As saffe as hee, that sleepes in Cocke of haye,
Well, when he lookt, in purse the other daye,
And found my fraude, and falshood as it was:
Out of the doore, in furie did hee passe.
Yet came againe, that night and so fell sicke,
(The cause whereof, soone after you shall here:)
Full long hee lay, and toucht so neere the quicke,
That he was like, to buy that sicknesse dere.
But when on foote, hee stept and all was cleare,
He bad farewell, false wife, God send thee grace:
Thy wicked wayes, makes husband giue thee place.
(The cause whereof, soone after you shall here:)
Full long hee lay, and toucht so neere the quicke,
That he was like, to buy that sicknesse dere.
But when on foote, hee stept and all was cleare,
He bad farewell, false wife, God send thee grace:
Thy wicked wayes, makes husband giue thee place.
236
I saw how world, would wonder at this act,
And straight new tales, on husband ganne I rayse:
With forged lies, and rayling reasons rackt,
That still should sound, vnto his most disprayse.
I faynde one while, hee vsed wanton wayes,
With euery mayde, that hee might touch or see:
And then he was, to sicke a soule for mee.
And straight new tales, on husband ganne I rayse:
With forged lies, and rayling reasons rackt,
That still should sound, vnto his most disprayse.
I faynde one while, hee vsed wanton wayes,
With euery mayde, that hee might touch or see:
And then he was, to sicke a soule for mee.
Then poore hee was, I sayde to cloke my pride,
When this serude not, I swore the man was madd,
And in his rage, would beate mee backe and side,
So euery daie, a new deuice I had.
To make the world, beleeue hee was too bad,
And at the length, when all I had was sold:
My mayde and I: goe trie the world we wold.
When this serude not, I swore the man was madd,
And in his rage, would beate mee backe and side,
So euery daie, a new deuice I had.
To make the world, beleeue hee was too bad,
And at the length, when all I had was sold:
My mayde and I: goe trie the world we wold.
So shutting doore, and trussing vp my packe,
I flang from home, not bidding friendes farewell:
But I had not, no sooner turnde my backe,
But husband heard, how all this matter fell.
And yet alone, awhile hee let mee dwell,
Till that hee saw, I was so farre past shame:
I carde not what, became of honest name.
I flang from home, not bidding friendes farewell:
But I had not, no sooner turnde my backe,
But husband heard, how all this matter fell.
And yet alone, awhile hee let mee dwell,
Till that hee saw, I was so farre past shame:
I carde not what, became of honest name.
Indeed the house, where I my residence made,
With lustie Lads, was haunted euery houre,
And I had those, that well could tosse the blade,
To take my part, if husband ganne to lowre.
His friendes were weake, and I with strongest power,
Beganne to bragge, and threaten him full sore:
And had preparde, a bloodie band therefore.
With lustie Lads, was haunted euery houre,
And I had those, that well could tosse the blade,
To take my part, if husband ganne to lowre.
His friendes were weake, and I with strongest power,
Beganne to bragge, and threaten him full sore:
And had preparde, a bloodie band therefore.
I sought to bring, my brethren to this braule,
But they were wise, and would no quarrell take:
And putting off, the harmes that might befall,
They wisely wrought, a freindly peace to make.
But euer I, good counsell did forsake,
And thought to make, my husband hide his heade:
By practise still, till he poore man were dead.
But they were wise, and would no quarrell take:
And putting off, the harmes that might befall,
237
But euer I, good counsell did forsake,
And thought to make, my husband hide his heade:
By practise still, till he poore man were dead.
Yet in a moode, when least I lookt therefore,
He came and tolde, me all was much amisse:
Whereat I cried, alas and lowde I rore,
For neighbours helpe, who quickely hearing this,
Came thrusting in, as ofte the manner is,
How now good folke, quoth he with bended brow:
Tweene man and wife, dare you bee sticklars now.
He came and tolde, me all was much amisse:
Whereat I cried, alas and lowde I rore,
For neighbours helpe, who quickely hearing this,
Came thrusting in, as ofte the manner is,
How now good folke, quoth he with bended brow:
Tweene man and wife, dare you bee sticklars now.
No in good fayth, quoth they and so retierd,
But still I lookt, for other succour there:
And for that thing, that husband then desired,
I tooke no care, I ment a further feare.
To bring him in, yet maide in giuing eare,
To honest wordes, fell downe on knees at last:
And pardon craude, for priuie knauerie past.
But still I lookt, for other succour there:
And for that thing, that husband then desired,
I tooke no care, I ment a further feare.
To bring him in, yet maide in giuing eare,
To honest wordes, fell downe on knees at last:
And pardon craude, for priuie knauerie past.
My husband then, forgaue her and tooke leaue,
In hope my mind, would gentle waxe thereby:
But I that ment, my husband to deceaue,
In better place, beganne a greater crie.
Where women were, that markt my weeping eye,
And thought indeed, I had beene handled ill:
So stayde me there, perforce among them still.
In hope my mind, would gentle waxe thereby:
But I that ment, my husband to deceaue,
In better place, beganne a greater crie.
Where women were, that markt my weeping eye,
And thought indeed, I had beene handled ill:
So stayde me there, perforce among them still.
My husband swore, I should receiue no harme,
And home againe, I should be safely brought:
But I had taught, the women such a charme,
They would not then, depart from me for nought.
That could be sayde, thus hee like waxe was wrought,
And tempred so, that home without his wife:
He went awaie, the more my shamelesse life.
And home againe, I should be safely brought:
But I had taught, the women such a charme,
They would not then, depart from me for nought.
That could be sayde, thus hee like waxe was wrought,
And tempred so, that home without his wife:
238
When shamefall lookes, forsooke my modest face,
I waxt so bold, I blusht no more than blocke:
Then clapt on Robes, of gaie vaine-glories grace,
With colours faire, to paint a foule blacke stocke.
Yet calde I was, a Henne for each good Cocke,
A morsell sweete, a whetstone fine forsoth:
To set on edge, on euery daintie tothe.
I waxt so bold, I blusht no more than blocke:
Then clapt on Robes, of gaie vaine-glories grace,
With colours faire, to paint a foule blacke stocke.
Yet calde I was, a Henne for each good Cocke,
A morsell sweete, a whetstone fine forsoth:
To set on edge, on euery daintie tothe.
I carde not how, my husband murthred were,
By Magicks force, or any Diuilish arte:
I shonde his sight, and presence euery where,
As one that lodgde, disdaine in hatefull harte.
And still I playde, full many a filthie parte,
To rid him hence, and take awaie his life:
Who God preserude, to plague a paltring wife.
By Magicks force, or any Diuilish arte:
I shonde his sight, and presence euery where,
As one that lodgde, disdaine in hatefull harte.
And still I playde, full many a filthie parte,
To rid him hence, and take awaie his life:
Who God preserude, to plague a paltring wife.
And for to hide, those brainesicke prankes of mine,
I had a knacke to breake the marriage bande:
And so a dragme, or draught of poyson fine,
I did deuise, to hap in husbands hand.
And as that cuppe, on tables ende did stand,
With feruent thirst, he came and so it raught,
And in that heat, dranke of the mortall draught.
I had a knacke to breake the marriage bande:
And so a dragme, or draught of poyson fine,
I did deuise, to hap in husbands hand.
And as that cuppe, on tables ende did stand,
With feruent thirst, he came and so it raught,
And in that heat, dranke of the mortall draught.
When guiltie heart, should make my face to blushe,
I braude it out, in silkes and Ueluets gaye:
And carde not what, world sayde of mee a rushe,
For I tooke time, ere time would weare awaye.
(At gracelesse games, and many a shamelesse playe)
And sowing seedes, that Nettle flowers brought foorth:
I reapt but weedes, or thistles nothing woorth.
I braude it out, in silkes and Ueluets gaye:
And carde not what, world sayde of mee a rushe,
For I tooke time, ere time would weare awaye.
(At gracelesse games, and many a shamelesse playe)
And sowing seedes, that Nettle flowers brought foorth:
I reapt but weedes, or thistles nothing woorth.
I rufled long, when husbande barely went,
And faste him out, in streets or ciuill towne,
My freends did force the man to stand content,
It was no boote, to striue or sweare me downe.
For I had made the world on him to frowne,
And raisde a brute, that he was bedlem mad:
Thus loe, of him the conquest still I had.
239
My freends did force the man to stand content,
It was no boote, to striue or sweare me downe.
For I had made the world on him to frowne,
And raisde a brute, that he was bedlem mad:
Thus loe, of him the conquest still I had.
My haunt was such emong the noblest sorte,
That I was calde a sober Sibill sage:
And worthy wits would build on my reporte,
For I knew how to flatter euery age.
And alwaies wrought to make my husband rage
Wherby his life in hazard hard might fall:
And I the while run cleane away with ball.
That I was calde a sober Sibill sage:
And worthy wits would build on my reporte,
For I knew how to flatter euery age.
And alwaies wrought to make my husband rage
Wherby his life in hazard hard might fall:
And I the while run cleane away with ball.
I loued not one but lusted after all,
The puddell foule, was fittest for a gigge:
The fountaine faire did drinke like bitter gall,
In filthy mud I wallowd like a pigge.
About the streets was gadding gentle rigge.
With clothes tuckt vp to set bad ware to sale:
For youth good stuffe, and for olde age a stale.
The puddell foule, was fittest for a gigge:
The fountaine faire did drinke like bitter gall,
In filthy mud I wallowd like a pigge.
About the streets was gadding gentle rigge.
With clothes tuckt vp to set bad ware to sale:
For youth good stuffe, and for olde age a stale.
A louing looke could make a Gudgeon bite,
A fine dugard could fetch in scoles of fish:
A cunning knacke could stir vp colde delight,
A glittring girle could feede a wantons wish.
And who doth not desire a dainty dish,
Whose sugred taste breeds secret eger moode:
That fame would feed, & findes most fearfull food.
A fine dugard could fetch in scoles of fish:
A cunning knacke could stir vp colde delight,
A glittring girle could feede a wantons wish.
And who doth not desire a dainty dish,
Whose sugred taste breeds secret eger moode:
That fame would feed, & findes most fearfull food.
I could in street bestur and stretch my limmes,
As though some sprite were vnder outward show
Who angleth not for fish that smoothly swims?
At pleasant mark who doth not bend the bowe?
Small shafts are shot at many a carraine Crowe,
Then if faire birds doo hap to come in way:
Blame not the Hauke that makes of foule a pray.
As though some sprite were vnder outward show
Who angleth not for fish that smoothly swims?
At pleasant mark who doth not bend the bowe?
240
Then if faire birds doo hap to come in way:
Blame not the Hauke that makes of foule a pray.
Not beauty here, I claime by this my talke,
For browne and blacke I was God blesse the marke:
Who cals me faire dooth scarce know Cheese from chalke,
For I was formd when winter nights was darke.
And Natures workes tooke light at little sparke,
For kinde in scorne had made a moulde of Iette:
That shone like cole, wherin my face was set.
For browne and blacke I was God blesse the marke:
Who cals me faire dooth scarce know Cheese from chalke,
For I was formd when winter nights was darke.
And Natures workes tooke light at little sparke,
For kinde in scorne had made a moulde of Iette:
That shone like cole, wherin my face was set.
Three yeeres I straied like waffe that waxeth wilde,
Two more at least I lay from husbands bed:
And all this while I vsde him like a childe,
For at no time I neither wrote ne sed.
Ne sent to him, such toyes I had in head.
That stomacke stiffe thought not to stoupe a whit:
For stubborne Colte in teeth had got the bit.
Two more at least I lay from husbands bed:
And all this while I vsde him like a childe,
For at no time I neither wrote ne sed.
Ne sent to him, such toyes I had in head.
That stomacke stiffe thought not to stoupe a whit:
For stubborne Colte in teeth had got the bit.
He let me run oer hedge, oer hill and dale.
And would not plucke the raines of bridle back:
I could tell why, but therby hangs a tale,
Would make me blush and shew of grace great lacke.
I had my will, whiles all thing went to wracke,
What needs more words, I ran so rude a race:
I neuer thought againe to turne my face.
And would not plucke the raines of bridle back:
I could tell why, but therby hangs a tale,
Would make me blush and shew of grace great lacke.
I had my will, whiles all thing went to wracke,
What needs more words, I ran so rude a race:
I neuer thought againe to turne my face.
What sleight scapes free, from subtill searching head,
What wit workes not to serue lewde womens wyles:
What practise flies the foile of stained bed,
What is not wonne with words or worldly guiles.
What will not yeeld and faune where Fortune smiles,
What time is lost to gaine that women craue:
And all proceeds from waiward will we haue.
What wit workes not to serue lewde womens wyles:
What practise flies the foile of stained bed,
What is not wonne with words or worldly guiles.
What will not yeeld and faune where Fortune smiles,
What time is lost to gaine that women craue:
And all proceeds from waiward will we haue.
241
If that we loue, the fury lasts not long,
If once we hate, our malice hath no end:
If that we minde to offer husband wrong,
We want no wit the quarrell to defend.
Our stuborne hart had rather break then bend,
And custome hath among vs made such lawes:
That all our sexe will take our part and cause.
If once we hate, our malice hath no end:
If that we minde to offer husband wrong,
We want no wit the quarrell to defend.
Our stuborne hart had rather break then bend,
And custome hath among vs made such lawes:
That all our sexe will take our part and cause.
And where the floud and streame of strife doth runne,
In comes the tide of dayly troubles great:
Yea where a storme or braule is once begun,
All bitter blasts repairs and breathes out heat.
the eyes will stare, the face will frowne and sweat,
The tung must clap, the head wil shake and nod:
And hart within hath cleane forgotten God.
In comes the tide of dayly troubles great:
Yea where a storme or braule is once begun,
All bitter blasts repairs and breathes out heat.
the eyes will stare, the face will frowne and sweat,
The tung must clap, the head wil shake and nod:
And hart within hath cleane forgotten God.
Freends must be wrought with blades to band it out,
Foes must be whipt and scourged in their kinde:
Worlde shalbe tost and turned round about,
Still to maintain the mischeefe of the minde.
Tale bearers then shall lye within the winde,
To bring bad newes and set the house a fier:
That flamde before with sparkes of spites desire.
Foes must be whipt and scourged in their kinde:
Worlde shalbe tost and turned round about,
Still to maintain the mischeefe of the minde.
Tale bearers then shall lye within the winde,
To bring bad newes and set the house a fier:
That flamde before with sparkes of spites desire.
My practise strange can all these plagues vnfolde,
That better were lapt vp in silence heere:
Too late to call againe that tung hath tolde,
The wise should sell their words and worship deere.
But since in world my selfe I cannot cleere,
I wil goe through this heauy tale of mine:
That world may well at wicked waies repine.
That better were lapt vp in silence heere:
Too late to call againe that tung hath tolde,
The wise should sell their words and worship deere.
But since in world my selfe I cannot cleere,
I wil goe through this heauy tale of mine:
That world may well at wicked waies repine.
Long after this he heard that I lay sicke,
And then from Court he comes with right great speed:
Qo comfort me that was both sound and quick,
To play the Fox or knaue againe for need.
But though that time I would not be agreede,
I tooke his wine and sent him so away:
With scorne enough in signe of parting day.
And then from Court he comes with right great speed:
Qo comfort me that was both sound and quick,
242
But though that time I would not be agreede,
I tooke his wine and sent him so away:
With scorne enough in signe of parting day.
For since that time he neuer saw my face,
Nor had no minde to come where was my haunt:
And since that storme I had so little grace,
In euery soile I make my boste and vaunte.
I conquerd him and so I doo you graunt,
For three yeeres more I haue doon what I please:
And liue at large in lust and lordly ease.
Nor had no minde to come where was my haunt:
And since that storme I had so little grace,
In euery soile I make my boste and vaunte.
I conquerd him and so I doo you graunt,
For three yeeres more I haue doon what I please:
And liue at large in lust and lordly ease.
And these fiue yeeres I haue doon what I can,
By tung and art and figures that I cast:
And euery way to shame my plaine good man,
which shame I feare will sure be mine at last.
I am so learnd I can play loose and fast,
My skill is such in Planets hye and low:
I rule the Skies and heauens where I goe.
By tung and art and figures that I cast:
And euery way to shame my plaine good man,
which shame I feare will sure be mine at last.
I am so learnd I can play loose and fast,
My skill is such in Planets hye and low:
I rule the Skies and heauens where I goe.
Good Fortunes sure some say that I can tell,
And many things by figures I vnfolde:
I say no more but wish that all were well,
For he that doth this wicked world beholde.
whose Godhead seeeth into this massie moulde.
Knowes well how oft I tread my shooe awry:
And in what plight my sinfull soule dooth lye.
And many things by figures I vnfolde:
I say no more but wish that all were well,
For he that doth this wicked world beholde.
whose Godhead seeeth into this massie moulde.
Knowes well how oft I tread my shooe awry:
And in what plight my sinfull soule dooth lye.
And if this God regarde with angry cheere,
The vice on earth that vainely we commit:
And straitly looke vnto my dooings heere,
And like a Iudge in trembling conscience sit.
I am condemd, there serues ne force nor wit,
Out is my Lamp, the oyle hath lost his light:
And my faire day is turnd to foule blacke night.
The vice on earth that vainely we commit:
And straitly looke vnto my dooings heere,
And like a Iudge in trembling conscience sit.
I am condemd, there serues ne force nor wit,
Out is my Lamp, the oyle hath lost his light:
243
The searching heads that sifts my manners throw,
Will shrinke aside when I draw neere their view:
The wiuely dames that seeth my blotted brow,
In my behalfe will blush and change their hue.
The gentle harts that others harmes doth rue,
Will much lament my life so lewdly runne:
And cleane vntwist the threed good name hath spun.
Will shrinke aside when I draw neere their view:
The wiuely dames that seeth my blotted brow,
In my behalfe will blush and change their hue.
The gentle harts that others harmes doth rue,
Will much lament my life so lewdly runne:
And cleane vntwist the threed good name hath spun.
The basest dame (whose faults are borne in brest)
Wil scorne to heare my folly blazde abroad:
The frumping flocke at me will make a iest,
The spitefull swarme wil poulte and swell like tode.
My guilty minde that beares moste heauy lode,
Will sinke downe right when worlde shall talke of grace:
And shame her selfe will slubber all my face.
Wil scorne to heare my folly blazde abroad:
The frumping flocke at me will make a iest,
The spitefull swarme wil poulte and swell like tode.
My guilty minde that beares moste heauy lode,
Will sinke downe right when worlde shall talke of grace:
And shame her selfe will slubber all my face.
The two braue boies I had from husbands bed,
That Stoner got, staines now my honest name:
And witnes beares to world when I am dead,
Of secret sins that purchast open shame.
I kept that close long like a cunning dame,
Till husband had found out my paultring life:
Then he at Bathe forsooke his cogging wife.
That Stoner got, staines now my honest name:
And witnes beares to world when I am dead,
Of secret sins that purchast open shame.
I kept that close long like a cunning dame,
Till husband had found out my paultring life:
Then he at Bathe forsooke his cogging wife.
The foule reports that dayly I giue him,
Rebounds like ball to mine owne bosome straight:
Yet I with craft fac'te out the matter trim,
But still I beare the blot for all my sleight.
My backe so crackes vnder this heauy weight,
That all the ioynts and bones I beare about:
[illeg.]foldes my faults and filthy manners out.
Rebounds like ball to mine owne bosome straight:
Yet I with craft fac'te out the matter trim,
But still I beare the blot for all my sleight.
My backe so crackes vnder this heauy weight,
That all the ioynts and bones I beare about:
[illeg.]foldes my faults and filthy manners out.
The sober sorte that sets by noble brute,
Will shake their heads as they my boldenesse spie:
The clapping tungs will neuer sure be mute,
Shreawd people all, will shewe alowryng eye.
But still I feare, the Lorde that sits on hye,
Will loke more strange, on me so late disgraste:
Then all the worlde that here beneath are plaste.
244
The clapping tungs will neuer sure be mute,
Shreawd people all, will shewe alowryng eye.
But still I feare, the Lorde that sits on hye,
Will loke more strange, on me so late disgraste:
Then all the worlde that here beneath are plaste.
The Church wherin both faith and hand I gaue,
Shall witnes beare of breach of promise due:
The spousall bed and mariage day so braue,
Shall make me calde forsworne and most vntrue.
the holye booke, the olde law and the new,
Against my soule shall such sharpe sentence giue:
In other worlde where sprite desires to liue.
Shall witnes beare of breach of promise due:
The spousall bed and mariage day so braue,
Shall make me calde forsworne and most vntrue.
the holye booke, the olde law and the new,
Against my soule shall such sharpe sentence giue:
In other worlde where sprite desires to liue.
Let matrons chaste, and modest wiues eche one,
That falshood hates, and loues their troth to keepe:
In fury come, and fling at me a stone,
And let no wight my death bewaile nor weep.
Let daies vnrest and dreadfull dreames in sleepe,
Pursue me still and bring me to my graue:
Since God and man I so offended haue.
That falshood hates, and loues their troth to keepe:
In fury come, and fling at me a stone,
And let no wight my death bewaile nor weep.
Let daies vnrest and dreadfull dreames in sleepe,
Pursue me still and bring me to my graue:
Since God and man I so offended haue.
The steps I tread shall tell me my offence,
the feelds I walke shall bring my fault to minde,
The harmes I did in worlde shall haste me hence,
The wealth I wish shall waste and weare with winde.
The fame I seeke shall fling me far behinde,
And all good things that vertuous wiues enioy:
At my most need shal turne to mine annoy.
the feelds I walke shall bring my fault to minde,
The harmes I did in worlde shall haste me hence,
The wealth I wish shall waste and weare with winde.
The fame I seeke shall fling me far behinde,
And all good things that vertuous wiues enioy:
At my most need shal turne to mine annoy.
The wise that weighes my wiles in ballance right,
Shall see my wit want weight and be but bace:
The foole himselfe shall finde my iudgement light,
In making choise to chop and change my race.
The poore shall point at me in euery place,
The rich, and those that sway and rule doth beare:
With curbe of Law shall bring lewde life in feare.
Shall see my wit want weight and be but bace:
The foole himselfe shall finde my iudgement light,
In making choise to chop and change my race.
245
The rich, and those that sway and rule doth beare:
With curbe of Law shall bring lewde life in feare.
The freends I had shall froune and shun my sight,
The foes I haue shall follow me with shame:
The neighbour loue that pleasde me day and night,
Shall now draw backe and looke on losse of name.
The merrie mate and homely countrey dame,
And all the towne and soyle where I was borne:
In Parish Church shall laugh my life to scorne.
The foes I haue shall follow me with shame:
The neighbour loue that pleasde me day and night,
Shall now draw backe and looke on losse of name.
The merrie mate and homely countrey dame,
And all the towne and soyle where I was borne:
In Parish Church shall laugh my life to scorne.
The bande once broke that God himselfe hath blest.
Brings worldly woe, and curses in by swarmes:
The mariage marde that God made for mans rest,
Turnes vpside downe, from happie helpe to harmes.
The Bridall bed defiled with lothsome charmes,
Breedes wicked smoke, and smoothing slanders base:
On whose foule fume a worlde of people gaze.
Brings worldly woe, and curses in by swarmes:
The mariage marde that God made for mans rest,
Turnes vpside downe, from happie helpe to harmes.
The Bridall bed defiled with lothsome charmes,
Breedes wicked smoke, and smoothing slanders base:
On whose foule fume a worlde of people gaze.
The knot of loue vnknit by hateful cause,
Calles greefes to count, and cries to clouds for aide:
The lewde contempt and breach of sacred lawes,
Makes euery howre offendour sore afraid.
The fickle faith that is with scourges paide,
Bids falshood flie the plague that is preparde:
For those who lookes to life with small regarde.
Calles greefes to count, and cries to clouds for aide:
The lewde contempt and breach of sacred lawes,
Makes euery howre offendour sore afraid.
The fickle faith that is with scourges paide,
Bids falshood flie the plague that is preparde:
For those who lookes to life with small regarde.
No rouffling troupe that swash and swill vp wine,
Can ward the blowes that wrath of God sends downe:
No cunning knacks nor knacking fetches fine,
Can conquer troth and thrust him out of towne.
No treasons traine can take way true renowne,
No cloud can cloke the craft that all men findes:
No salue but grace can heale infected mindes.
Can ward the blowes that wrath of God sends downe:
No cunning knacks nor knacking fetches fine,
Can conquer troth and thrust him out of towne.
No treasons traine can take way true renowne,
No cloud can cloke the craft that all men findes:
No salue but grace can heale infected mindes.
246
My hollow heart hath lost the hope I had,
What drops in now, doth doubt and daunger bring:
In husbands eares, I spake that made me glad,
With newfound friends, I talke that makes me wring.
The first good will, from vertuous loue did spring,
The last delite, and all that since fell out:
Began on lust, and needs must end in doubt
What drops in now, doth doubt and daunger bring:
In husbands eares, I spake that made me glad,
With newfound friends, I talke that makes me wring.
The first good will, from vertuous loue did spring,
The last delite, and all that since fell out:
Began on lust, and needs must end in doubt
Now open streets, by Oule flight must I walke,
And secret nookes, and shifts must shadow fleight:
Except I care not what the world doth talke,
And mind to frame a crooked matter streight.
And then though pride, holdes head a wonders height,
Shame pluckes downe heart, and makes mee blush at last:
But well away, that signe of grace is past.
And secret nookes, and shifts must shadow fleight:
Except I care not what the world doth talke,
And mind to frame a crooked matter streight.
And then though pride, holdes head a wonders height,
Shame pluckes downe heart, and makes mee blush at last:
But well away, that signe of grace is past.
Though in the teeth, I haue the bridle got,
And that I run beyond my riders reach:
I dare not sing, in queere too hie a note,
For feare of checke, and tuter do me teach.
I play boe peepe, least people me appeach,
I seeme a Saint, when diuelish things I meane:
Yet much adoo, I haue to carrie cleane.
And that I run beyond my riders reach:
I dare not sing, in queere too hie a note,
For feare of checke, and tuter do me teach.
I play boe peepe, least people me appeach,
I seeme a Saint, when diuelish things I meane:
Yet much adoo, I haue to carrie cleane.
O wretched change, that brings repentance oft,
O bitter sweet, whose tast deceiues vs all:
O poysoned lust, that puffes vp pride aloft,
O gracelesse game, full farc'st with sugred gall.
O tripping trust, that swiftly giues a fall,
O spitefull sport, that spends thy youth in shame:
And brings thine age, in horrour and defame.
O bitter sweet, whose tast deceiues vs all:
O poysoned lust, that puffes vp pride aloft,
O gracelesse game, full farc'st with sugred gall.
O tripping trust, that swiftly giues a fall,
O spitefull sport, that spends thy youth in shame:
And brings thine age, in horrour and defame.
O greedy will, that gaines but griefe of minde,
O gnawing worme that frets the conscience still:
O wicked Art, that strikes the senses blind,
O leude desire, more hote than Ethna hill,
O beastly blisse, begun on bold consait:
And doth bewitch, them all that bites the bayte.
O gnawing worme that frets the conscience still:
O wicked Art, that strikes the senses blind,
247
O beastly blisse, begun on bold consait:
And doth bewitch, them all that bites the bayte.
O paultring playe, and peeuish pastime vaine,
O sliding ioy, that sinckes where suretie swims:
O perlous toye, and pleasure mixt with paine,
O Peacocke proude, that still fond feathers trims.
O lustie blood, nay wanton lothsome limes,
That stoupes to filth, and costly carrein gaye:
That giues bad gold, and steals good name awaye.
O sliding ioy, that sinckes where suretie swims:
O perlous toye, and pleasure mixt with paine,
O Peacocke proude, that still fond feathers trims.
O lustie blood, nay wanton lothsome limes,
That stoupes to filth, and costly carrein gaye:
That giues bad gold, and steals good name awaye.
My merry mates, and minsing minions fine,
Speakes faire a while, to winne their leude desire:
But wilely world, can let me starue and pine,
And for reward, can giue a flout or flire.
So lead mee on, and leaue me in the mire,
And blab all out, that hath been closely wrought:
O prankes of youth, O painted thing of nought.
Speakes faire a while, to winne their leude desire:
But wilely world, can let me starue and pine,
And for reward, can giue a flout or flire.
So lead mee on, and leaue me in the mire,
And blab all out, that hath been closely wrought:
O prankes of youth, O painted thing of nought.
O puddell foule, that seemes at first full faire,
O cause of care, and source of sorrow sowre:
O deadly hope, and ground of deepe dispaire,
O pleasant weede, and stincking rotten flowre,
O rauening wolues, that doth poore wiues deuoure,
O smiling theeues, that robbs the chastest harte:
O trayterous tongues, that can play Iudas parte.
O cause of care, and source of sorrow sowre:
O deadly hope, and ground of deepe dispaire,
O pleasant weede, and stincking rotten flowre,
O rauening wolues, that doth poore wiues deuoure,
O smiling theeues, that robbs the chastest harte:
O trayterous tongues, that can play Iudas parte.
You layd your traynes, as Foulers laies his nette,
You bosome Snakes, your sting hath me vndone:
By louing you, at length what shall I gette,
When you me lothe, where shall the cast off run.
Wo worth that wight, that woing first begun,
Curst be the craft, that causeth clamours ryes:
And vengeaunce fall, vppon your staring eyes.
You bosome Snakes, your sting hath me vndone:
By louing you, at length what shall I gette,
When you me lothe, where shall the cast off run.
Wo worth that wight, that woing first begun,
Curst be the craft, that causeth clamours ryes:
And vengeaunce fall, vppon your staring eyes.
248
A plague consume, your songes and subtell sutes,
A wildfire catch, your combrous knauish braynes:
A murrein take, your soule vntimely fruites,
A canker eate, your handes and azure vaines.
The Haggs of Hell, reward you for your paines,
Both pen and ynke, and all that helpt desire:
(And you your selues) I wish in flaming fire.
A wildfire catch, your combrous knauish braynes:
A murrein take, your soule vntimely fruites,
A canker eate, your handes and azure vaines.
The Haggs of Hell, reward you for your paines,
Both pen and ynke, and all that helpt desire:
(And you your selues) I wish in flaming fire.
Fie on your scroules, and Pistells full of lies,
An Oten strawe, for all your stately stiells:
Your frisled haire, and noughtie new-fond guise,
Your Lordly lookes, your simpring shameles smilles
Your wanton talke, and priuie wincking willes,
I here bequeath, to Sathan and his crue:
Good fellows fitte, for such false ladds as you.
An Oten strawe, for all your stately stiells:
Your frisled haire, and noughtie new-fond guise,
Your Lordly lookes, your simpring shameles smilles
Your wanton talke, and priuie wincking willes,
I here bequeath, to Sathan and his crue:
Good fellows fitte, for such false ladds as you.
You are the frothe, and scumme of worldes delite,
The dalling whelpes, that can with feathers playe:
Of mischiefs all, the marke, the butte, and white
The iolly Frie, that followes flood each waie.
The gallant flocke, the stately starres of day,
The busie Bees, that can no honey make:
But spoylers of, each fruit and flowre yee take.
The dalling whelpes, that can with feathers playe:
Of mischiefs all, the marke, the butte, and white
The iolly Frie, that followes flood each waie.
The gallant flocke, the stately starres of day,
The busie Bees, that can no honey make:
But spoylers of, each fruit and flowre yee take.
The waiting dogges, that bite before they barke,
The couching currs, that snatch at euery flie:
The figboies fine, that iuggles in the darke,
The cunning crue, that at receit can lie.
The sooking sponge, that drawes faire fountains dry,
The greedy houndes, that follows eurie game:
The blott and staine, of each good womans name.
The couching currs, that snatch at euery flie:
The figboies fine, that iuggles in the darke,
The cunning crue, that at receit can lie.
The sooking sponge, that drawes faire fountains dry,
The greedy houndes, that follows eurie game:
The blott and staine, of each good womans name.
A robe or ring, or trifling token bare,
You giue for that, you neuer can restore,
Then are you gone, you haue your wished fare,
In straunger streames, you loue to stire your Ore.
If honest wiues, but knew your prankes before.
They would as soone, see of your suttle heds:
As by your drifts, goe staine their husbands bedds.
You giue for that, you neuer can restore,
Then are you gone, you haue your wished fare,
249
If honest wiues, but knew your prankes before.
They would as soone, see of your suttle heds:
As by your drifts, goe staine their husbands bedds.
In marriage house, is friendly fastnesse found,
Though fare be meane, content fills vp the dish:
In bordell bowre, sweete banquets are vnsound,
Though dainties there, wee haue at will and wishe,
At home we take, in worth cold flesh or fish,
For warme good will, doth season so the cheere,
That with small coste, we banquet all the yeere.
Though fare be meane, content fills vp the dish:
In bordell bowre, sweete banquets are vnsound,
Though dainties there, wee haue at will and wishe,
At home we take, in worth cold flesh or fish,
For warme good will, doth season so the cheere,
That with small coste, we banquet all the yeere.
Abroad wee sit, as though we were affearde,
And scarce dare feede, or talke for taunts and nipps:
At home we rule, in spight of husbands bearde,
And play the Cooke, and so may licke our lipps.
Abroad for nought, our tongue is tane in tripps,
And then great hart, can neyther drinke nor eate:
Thus deere is bought, abroad our borrowde meate.
And scarce dare feede, or talke for taunts and nipps:
At home we rule, in spight of husbands bearde,
And play the Cooke, and so may licke our lipps.
Abroad for nought, our tongue is tane in tripps,
And then great hart, can neyther drinke nor eate:
Thus deere is bought, abroad our borrowde meate.
Looke what is sayd, at home in cloth is lappt,
There speach is free, and honey sports wee vse:
O well awaie, that this misfortune hapt,
And that I did, my husband so abuse.
That I haue brought, my selfe into a muse,
Lost home thereby, lost God and good mens praise:
And now must run, a gadding all my daies.
There speach is free, and honey sports wee vse:
O well awaie, that this misfortune hapt,
And that I did, my husband so abuse.
That I haue brought, my selfe into a muse,
Lost home thereby, lost God and good mens praise:
And now must run, a gadding all my daies.
A plague most fit, for them that vse to change,
A scourge wherein, the wrath of God is seene:
A staffe of strife, for pilgrime nothing strange,
A bleeding wounde, that makes my sorrow greene.
A sore rebuke, for wits that ouer weene,
A heauy crosse, and sent me for the nones:
To breake my will, and yet to bruse no bones.
A scourge wherein, the wrath of God is seene:
A staffe of strife, for pilgrime nothing strange,
A bleeding wounde, that makes my sorrow greene.
A sore rebuke, for wits that ouer weene,
A heauy crosse, and sent me for the nones:
250
But since my will, did weaue this wofull webbe,
That needs must make, a weede for wantons weare
And that my flood, is like to fall to ebbe,
By [illeg.] of will, that ought low saile to beare.
To punish Soule, that else some other where,
Might suffer smart, I vow in hand to take,
A better life, and so false world forsake.
That needs must make, a weede for wantons weare
And that my flood, is like to fall to ebbe,
By [illeg.] of will, that ought low saile to beare.
To punish Soule, that else some other where,
Might suffer smart, I vow in hand to take,
A better life, and so false world forsake.
Away proud pompe, and costly garments nice,
Come mourning gowne, & clothe the careful wight:
Awaie vaine showes, and open signes of vice,
Come vertue now, and giue my Lampe more light.
Come Summers day, adue darke winters night,
I loue to liue, and looke about mee farre:
When wound is heald, time may amend the scarre.
Come mourning gowne, & clothe the careful wight:
Awaie vaine showes, and open signes of vice,
Come vertue now, and giue my Lampe more light.
Come Summers day, adue darke winters night,
I loue to liue, and looke about mee farre:
When wound is heald, time may amend the scarre.
Away young Frie, that giues leawd Counsell nowe,
Awaie old trotts, that sets young flesh to sale:
Awaie foule sluttes, whose filth doth blott my browe,
Away trimme tongues, that neere told honest tale,
Awaie bold beastes, whose brabble bred my bale,
Away rude Waspes, you stong me through the brest.
Go hide your heades, and let me liue in rest.
Awaie old trotts, that sets young flesh to sale:
Awaie foule sluttes, whose filth doth blott my browe,
Away trimme tongues, that neere told honest tale,
Awaie bold beastes, whose brabble bred my bale,
Away rude Waspes, you stong me through the brest.
Go hide your heades, and let me liue in rest.
Awaie wild giggs, that bounceth like a topp,
Awaie tame louts, that fawne like whelps for nought:
Awaie light heades, that loues to chaunge and chopp,
Awaie fine witts, that many mischiefs wrought,
Awaie flee Snakes, that my destruction sought,
Away false shrewes, that neuer none may trust:
But such leawd girls, as are beguilde by lust.
Awaie tame louts, that fawne like whelps for nought:
Awaie light heades, that loues to chaunge and chopp,
Awaie fine witts, that many mischiefs wrought,
Awaie flee Snakes, that my destruction sought,
Away false shrewes, that neuer none may trust:
But such leawd girls, as are beguilde by lust.
Awaie faire speach, that me bewitch to long,
Away fowle workes, that fild my face with blurs,
Come home poore sence, that led my fancy wrong:
And packe from me, you priuy biting curs,
That sticketh still, together like wilde burs,
And where ye touch, ye bring away the wull.
So from fine cloth, pure honest name yee pull.
251
Come home poore sence, that led my fancy wrong:
And packe from me, you priuy biting curs,
That sticketh still, together like wilde burs,
And where ye touch, ye bring away the wull.
So from fine cloth, pure honest name yee pull.
Tis time to looke, how good report was lost,
And prop vp house, that now is neere to fall:
A wretched bruite, flies through the aire in post.
A whirling winde, may come and trip downe all,
And though I list, not come at husbands call:
I may not fly, from God and follow man,
That still deuours, like Wolfe what sheepe he can.
And prop vp house, that now is neere to fall:
A wretched bruite, flies through the aire in post.
A whirling winde, may come and trip downe all,
And though I list, not come at husbands call:
I may not fly, from God and follow man,
That still deuours, like Wolfe what sheepe he can.
The sweetest wine, at length will waxe full sowre,
It proues sharpe sauce, that once had sugred taste:
Fond fancies freaks, will fade as fast as flowre,
And wantons loue, with sports will weare and wast.
When hard in armes, new commers are embrast.
Farewell old friend goe play you where you wull:
The Hauke hath praide, the Haggards gorgs is full.
It proues sharpe sauce, that once had sugred taste:
Fond fancies freaks, will fade as fast as flowre,
And wantons loue, with sports will weare and wast.
When hard in armes, new commers are embrast.
Farewell old friend goe play you where you wull:
The Hauke hath praide, the Haggards gorgs is full.
Loue staies not long, it is but one yeares birde,
A foolishe fitte, that makes wilde wits goe madde:
A gallant Coult, that runneth for a girde,
A lime rod fine, to catch a lusty ladde:
A youthfull prancke, that makes age looke full sadde,
A merry mate, so long as money lasts,
Good for a flight, then of her bels shee casts.
A foolishe fitte, that makes wilde wits goe madde:
A gallant Coult, that runneth for a girde,
A lime rod fine, to catch a lusty ladde:
A youthfull prancke, that makes age looke full sadde,
A merry mate, so long as money lasts,
Good for a flight, then of her bels shee casts.
Loue tarries not, it is a posting game,
That hath such hast, it goes we know not where,
Now faire and fatte, then crooked leane and lame,
Now plaies boe peepe, now fisking here and there.
Now balde as Coote, now trim with fresled heare,
Now gay and glad, now shrewd and scarce wel pleasd
Now sound as Chicke, now sicke and soone diseasd.
That hath such hast, it goes we know not where,
Now faire and fatte, then crooked leane and lame,
Now plaies boe peepe, now fisking here and there.
252
Now gay and glad, now shrewd and scarce wel pleasd
Now sound as Chicke, now sicke and soone diseasd.
With dalling much loue will be easly tierd,
When loue is cloyed, the roile at gresse must ronne:
When hoofe is whole; the hackney may be hierd,
When corne is solde, the market cleane is done.
It ends with hate, that was with loue begonne,
It may be loathd, that long on liking lay:
Lust lacks no wings, when loue wil flie away.
When loue is cloyed, the roile at gresse must ronne:
When hoofe is whole; the hackney may be hierd,
When corne is solde, the market cleane is done.
It ends with hate, that was with loue begonne,
It may be loathd, that long on liking lay:
Lust lacks no wings, when loue wil flie away.
Loue must haue change, to season sweete delite,
Loues minde wil range, like Spaniel in the field:
Loue lookes like Doue, when she wil proue a Kite,
Loue seekes to rule, shee hath no minde to yeelde,
Loue will haue scope, loue is restrained seelde.
If loue lack a ought, she showes a lowring eye,
And then for nought, the babe wil pule and cry.
Loues minde wil range, like Spaniel in the field:
Loue lookes like Doue, when she wil proue a Kite,
Loue seekes to rule, shee hath no minde to yeelde,
Loue will haue scope, loue is restrained seelde.
If loue lack a ought, she showes a lowring eye,
And then for nought, the babe wil pule and cry.
Loue must be kolld, and kissed round about,
Loue must goe gay, and painted like a poste,
Loue must be peecst, and patcht with many a clout,
Loue is a sprite, a shadow or a Ghost:
A needelesse charge, that seldome quits the cost,
A practise bought, with many a thred bare purse,
A wretched blisse, that I and mine may curse.
Loue must goe gay, and painted like a poste,
Loue must be peecst, and patcht with many a clout,
Loue is a sprite, a shadow or a Ghost:
A needelesse charge, that seldome quits the cost,
A practise bought, with many a thred bare purse,
A wretched blisse, that I and mine may curse.
It is the skum, and onely drosse of youth,
That brings booth soule, and body in decay:
A kinde of talke, wherein there is no truth.
A Courting trade, that doth much craft bewray,
A wily Foxe, a wanton full of play:
A Sainct to show, a Deuil God he knose,
That me betrayde, and made me freedome lose.
That brings booth soule, and body in decay:
A kinde of talke, wherein there is no truth.
A Courting trade, that doth much craft bewray,
A wily Foxe, a wanton full of play:
A Sainct to show, a Deuil God he knose,
That me betrayde, and made me freedome lose.
253
The Horse runs farre, that neuer turns againe,
The beaten childe, is learnd to feare the rod:
The double minde, may fall to meaning plaine:
They may amend, that feeles the feare of God.
The clouds may cleere, that long hath threatned rain
The time ill spent, if reason will redeeme:
Cals home wild wits, from toies that are extreme.
The beaten childe, is learnd to feare the rod:
The double minde, may fall to meaning plaine:
They may amend, that feeles the feare of God.
The clouds may cleere, that long hath threatned rain
The time ill spent, if reason will redeeme:
Cals home wild wits, from toies that are extreme.
Youth takes his course, and followes fancies freakes
Age all reforms, and sore repents time past:
The bow long bent, ye know in processe weakes,
Hard things at first, may gentle waxe at last.
Who often fawls, is taught to stand full fast.
And few there are, but slides or fawls down right,
In youth or age, our iudgements are so light.
Age all reforms, and sore repents time past:
The bow long bent, ye know in processe weakes,
Hard things at first, may gentle waxe at last.
Who often fawls, is taught to stand full fast.
And few there are, but slides or fawls down right,
In youth or age, our iudgements are so light.
When wit is bought, (and folly throughly waied,)
An ounce of skill, is worth a pound of drosse:
Till body smart, the minde is neuer staied,
Gaine is not likt, till we haue tasted losse.
Some say ech one, is borne to beare his crosse,
My heauy faults, now burthens breast so sore:
That heere or hence, I must be scourgd therefore.
An ounce of skill, is worth a pound of drosse:
Till body smart, the minde is neuer staied,
Gaine is not likt, till we haue tasted losse.
Some say ech one, is borne to beare his crosse,
My heauy faults, now burthens breast so sore:
That heere or hence, I must be scourgd therefore.
Sweete are those stripes, that breaks ne bone nor lim
(And yet sets sound, the soule and body both:)
Sowre are those ioyes, and worldly braurie trim,
That downe to hell, with damned people goth.
Sweete are sharpe words that tels leud life the troth
Sowre is sweete sauce, that cloyes the stomacke still
Sweete are those nips, that doth restraine the wil.
(And yet sets sound, the soule and body both:)
Sowre are those ioyes, and worldly braurie trim,
That downe to hell, with damned people goth.
Sweete are sharpe words that tels leud life the troth
Sowre is sweete sauce, that cloyes the stomacke still
Sweete are those nips, that doth restraine the wil.
The pampred horse, that still in stable stands,
Will waxe a iade, if spurre ne wand he taste,
The wild-hed Colt, is tamde by riders hands.
Ane so through bitte, is made well traind and past,
Al hedstrong things, are not reformde in hast:
But when regard, lookes back where blindnes went
The perill past, bids pompe and pride repent.
Will waxe a iade, if spurre ne wand he taste,
The wild-hed Colt, is tamde by riders hands.
254
Al hedstrong things, are not reformde in hast:
But when regard, lookes back where blindnes went
The perill past, bids pompe and pride repent.
Great is the scope, that greedy wil desires,
Smal gaine or grace, doth grow by gadding out,
With heauy lode, the weary legs retiers:
And heartfull fraught, of worldly dread and dout
And sure the ground, from whence al vice doth sprout
Is gadding geres, that loues abroad to gase:
Who shame sends home, in great sad muse and mase.
Smal gaine or grace, doth grow by gadding out,
With heauy lode, the weary legs retiers:
And heartfull fraught, of worldly dread and dout
And sure the ground, from whence al vice doth sprout
Is gadding geres, that loues abroad to gase:
Who shame sends home, in great sad muse and mase.
And when in dores, dame dalliance close is drawn,
And notes what blot, she did escape without:
Shee thinkes in streete, she put her name to pawne,
Or went abroad, to play the bare banckrout,
Where wanton eyes, did naught but stare about,
Where all a flant, at full like shippe with saile.
Fine minions march, as braue as Peacocks taile.
And notes what blot, she did escape without:
Shee thinkes in streete, she put her name to pawne,
Or went abroad, to play the bare banckrout,
Where wanton eyes, did naught but stare about,
Where all a flant, at full like shippe with saile.
Fine minions march, as braue as Peacocks taile.
The crooked backe, must bolstred be by arte,
The tawny skinne, must shine by some trim knack,
The twinkling lookes, for sport must play their part
The perwickes fine, must curle wher haire doth lack
The swelling grace, that fils the empty sacke:
And ietting pace, with lims stretcht out ful streight,
To patch out pride, are matters of great weight.
The tawny skinne, must shine by some trim knack,
The twinkling lookes, for sport must play their part
The perwickes fine, must curle wher haire doth lack
The swelling grace, that fils the empty sacke:
And ietting pace, with lims stretcht out ful streight,
To patch out pride, are matters of great weight.
Then fie on al, such trashe and trompry vile,
That sets forth shades, in Sunny day to shine:
My youth is past, I cannot world beguile,
Men wil not looke, for babes in hollowd eyen.
A witherd grape, hangs now on rotten vien.
From blasted branche, the berry round is gone,
A dosky glasse, is little lookte vppon.
That sets forth shades, in Sunny day to shine:
My youth is past, I cannot world beguile,
Men wil not looke, for babes in hollowd eyen.
A witherd grape, hangs now on rotten vien.
From blasted branche, the berry round is gone,
255
Wherefore I vowe, to weare a sory vaile,
To shrowd the face, that few or none will like:
And get some shell, to holde in head like Snaile,
For former faults, in conscience so doth strike.
That I doe feare, I shall my selfe mislike:
If shadowes doe, not cloke defects I haue,
Or death dispatch, and send me to my graue.
To shrowd the face, that few or none will like:
And get some shell, to holde in head like Snaile,
For former faults, in conscience so doth strike.
That I doe feare, I shall my selfe mislike:
If shadowes doe, not cloke defects I haue,
Or death dispatch, and send me to my graue.
Now note my tale, you dames of gentle blood,
Now waile with me, al such as playes my part:
Now let my harmes, doe harmelesse people good
Now bid al wiues, defie this deuilish arte,
For my conceite, is such a deadly darte,
That where I goe, or walke in any place,
Me thinkes my faults, are written in my face.
Now waile with me, al such as playes my part:
Now let my harmes, doe harmelesse people good
Now bid al wiues, defie this deuilish arte,
For my conceite, is such a deadly darte,
That where I goe, or walke in any place,
Me thinkes my faults, are written in my face.
This discarded Gentlewoman went awalking twentye yeares, and yet cannot finde the waie home to her husband.
FINIS.
256
A DOLLFVLL DISCOVRSE OF A great Lorde and a Ladie. Translated out of French into English.
To the right worshipfull my Ladie Wawllar, wife
to the Souldioer-like knight Sir VVater Wawllar
Draw
neere good mindes that sadly markes,
the sway of worldly broyles.
And heare what I at large can say,
of troubles tumbling toyles.
257
tweene two of Noble race:
To whose mishap, and hatefull fate,
a world it selfe giues place.
Not long agoe, the case so stood,
a Lord of great estate,
(In natiue Soyle, by destnies lot,)
a Ladies fauour gate.
With whom he ioynde, a hazard great,
his liking led him so:
That neyther feare of frowning Gods,
nor bread of earthly foe
Could make him staine his plighted troth,
such constant minde hee bare:
For which this noble Fawkon may,
with turtle true compare.
But well away alas for woe,
his griefe thereby beganne:
In Prince displeasure throw this prank,
fell to this Noble man.
And Cesar frowing on the fact,
there was no other boote:
But flie the Realme, or prostrate fall,
Full flat at Cesars foote.
O states by this come learne to stoupe,
no stoutnesse can preuayle:
When from the Heauens stormes do blow,
and striketh downe your sayle.
From thunder cracks both man and beast,
yea Sunne and Moone doth flie:
The Earth and all that liues below,
doth feare the ratling skie.
When Gods are moued, in lowring clouds,
like dusky Mantles blacke:
The troubled ayre to mortall men,
258
I turnde my talke from such Discourse,
and treat of that turmoyle:
Which long this Knight and Ladie felt,
at home in Countrey soyle.
And somewhat of the cares abroade,
that hee perforce did taste:
I meane to write so that as troth,
my verses bee embraste:
For troth and time that tries out Gold,
hath tempred so my talke:
That penne nor muse no pleasures takes,
on doubtfull ground to walke,
Now when these states with linkes of loue
were tyde together fast,
And many a sad and heauy thought,
betweene them both had past,
Of Princes grace and fauour great,
(to which regard they tooke:
As chiefest thing and onely cause)
Whereon they ought to looke.
They wayde in ballance of their breastes,
what fittest serude their turnes:
And like as wood takes flame of fire,
and so to Sinders burnes.
So through the heape of this mishapp,
they felt such sorrow thoe,
As though hard destnie swore they should,
consume themselues with woe.
The Ladie lost her freedome straight.
the Gods had so decreed,
Her knight by sodaine flight abroad,
made vertue of a neede.
And liuing there with lingring hope,
in forraine Countrey straunge,
259
in some men worke a chaunge,
Hee stoode as firme as marble stone,
and kept both troeth and toutch.
To her who found few friendes at home,
and heartes disease was much,
Yea though this knight with offers great,
and treasure tempted was:
(As they full well can witnesse beare
which saw this matter pas)
Yet small account of Fortune new,
hee made for still in breast.
Was shrinde the Sainct that stonie walles,
and prison had possest.
No feere nor friend, nor fellow-mate,
this Troylus mind might moue:
This Fawcon scornd to pray abroad,
at home hee left his loue.
Full many a sigh and heauie looke,
hee sent along the Seas:
And wisht himselfe, in fetters fast,
to doe his Ladie ease.
What griefe of mind, and torment strange
shee suffred all that while:
Is knowen to those, that bondage feeles,
whose friendes are in exile.
Could mischiefe fall on both the sides,
more harder then it did?
The one from ioy and worldly pomp,
in prison closely hid.
The other forst, by fatall chaunce,
to seeke his fortune out:
And shonning daunger found dispayre,
in wandring Worlde about.
But waying well a Subiectes State,
260
Hee yeelded straight to open harmes
for feare of secret woundes,
And ventring life, yea Landes and goodes,
to keepe his name from blot:
(And to requite with hazardes hard,
the loue that hee had got.)
From Spaine with speede he did returne,
and setting foote on Lande:
Hee put his cause in Iustice dome,
and Noble Princes hande.
Though in the yoke with free consent,
the humble heart did fall,
The heauens stoode so out of tune,
hee gate no grace at all:
And clapped vp full fast in hold,
a Prisoners parte hee playes:
Where griping griefes & greeuous grones,
consumde his gladsome dayes.
Whiles hee aloofe full long remaynde,
and out of daunger crepte:
The dolfull Dame, in great dispayre,
his absence sore bewept.
Yet great regard to promise past,
shee had as world well wist:
And therefore often wrong her handes,
when that her Knight shee mist.
But now began the boistrous blastes,
to blow in bloudy brest:
And now the gulfe of sighes and sobs,
burst out with great vnrest.
For lo, one house held both these wights
yet both a sunder were:
And both in like displeasure stoode,
yea ech of both did feare.
261
a heauy tale to tell:
A plague past hope of heauens blisse,
a torment and a hell.
That is without redemption sure,
but what should more be saide:
Thus vnder locke and barred dores,
these Iewels safely laide.
They must abide the happy hours,
that God appoints in skies:
And drinke vp water sweete or sowre,
or what shal happe to rise.
The prison then did plead their case,
the wals both deafe and dum:
Did show by signes of freedome gone,
what sorrowes were to come.
The skreeking Owle in silent night,
at window clapt his winges:
To threaten death or badde successe,
of sundry doubtful thinges.
No ioyfull sound was heard with eare,
no newes of happy yeares:
No pleasure to the pinched heart,
in prison strong appeares.
Admit the Lute with touch of hand,
a heauy dumpe doth shoe,
A cooling comfort Musicke brings,
to wretches wrapt in woe.
No mirth with mourning moue may matche,
for mischiefe measure lacks:
And care consumes the minde of man,
as fire melts Uirgin Waxe.
In silly Sell, and seuerall place,
these two estates did sit:
Whose comming out, did far surmount,
262
As long they spent their tickle time,
in teene and terrour great:
So oft God wot of matters harde,
in head did hammers beat.
Now hoping that the clouds would calm
and storms would stand at stay:
Then looking when the Planets turnd,
their course another way.
But shaken ships in Seas doe sincke,
when surges rise aloft:
And vnder waues (for want of aide)
weake vessels welter oft.
So that no hope of succour seemes,
to come when tempests rage.
Except the gods draw back the plagues,
and winde and weather swage.
The present panges and parlous thoughts,
that pearceth troubled minds:
Is knowne to none but such I say,
that lacke of freedome findes.
A prisner beares a simple port,
most glad to please and ply:
As subiect to the keepers becke,
and iellouse Gailors eye.
Now tracing out a weary walke,
now whisht and quiet stands:
Now down on knees, now to the clouds
lookes vp with stretched hands.
Now listning after happy newes,
now nipt with sorrowes old:
Now sore abasht and brought in muse,
now merry stout and bold,
Now ripe and ready for to speake,
now dombe and dare not store:
263
and clap of euery dore.
Now bent to beare and suffer wrong,
now full reposde on right:
Now faine to fawne on feeble folke,
now setting all thinges light.
These passions still awakes their spryets,
that carefull captiues are:
Such smart they tast, such bread they bite,
that feedes on loaues of care.
Yea some are serude with change of meats,
yet touch they neare a dishe:
But sits like Tantalus in Hell,
and wants that most they wishe.
These twaine I troe were not so vsde,
but yet when best they sped:
On heauie morssels mixte with mone,
their hungrie stomackes fed.
No day stoode free from Fortunes foyle,
no houre but nourisht feare:
No season serude to salue the sores,
of soking sorrowes there.
No drinke could coole the furie hote,
of thraldomes thirstie throte:
No pleasant verse nor dittie framde,
to dolors dolfull note.
No booke nor story might reuiue,
their drowping dead delite:
For through the thoughts of thirled hartes,
are pleasures banisht quite.
To slowth, to sleepe, and mirthlesse moodes,
their dompish daies enclinde:
As from the clue of worldly cares,
should threde of life vntwinde,
Dispiesd the night, abhord the daye,
264
Thought scorne of foode, and cleane forsooke
the pleasures of the earth.
Would faine haue lost both speach & breath
and looke when hearts would burst:
Beleude they were in mothers wombe,
or else in cradell curst,
Though drousie dreed, did death desire,
and griefe sought quicke dispatch:
There was no parting from the place,
till day discharge the watch.
Wee cannot pay our borrowed breath,
before th' appoynted houre:
The end of strife, nor staie of state,
stands not in peoples power.
The God that guides the heauens high,
in secret doth beholde:
The fine and fleeting feeble course,
of earth and massie molde.
The heart may heaue, the breast may bloe,
the bodie sigh and swelt:
The face by open sinnes may show,
of priuy pashons felt.
But all the stormes haue little force,
to rid mans wretched dayes:
As by these [illeg.] playne I prooue,
through torments sundrie waies.
Well those from whom the Gods restraine
the scope, and vse of will:
Must bend the backe, and bow the ioyntes,
to beare the burthen still.
And yet no toyle nor griefe so great,
but findes at length some ease:
There follows after swelling floodes,
a quiet calmie seas.
265
and gracious Prince indeede:
A sweeter soyle these Prisoners found,
that better blood did breed.
But kept apart as Fortune shapt,
and so in silent shade:
(As place and time did licence graunt)
a fresh complaint they made,
Of crooked chaunce and straunge extremes,
that sondred faythfull hartes:
Whose sugred loue was euer mixt,
with bale and bitter smartes.
And neuer after like to meete,
nor set no eye nor vewe:
The one vppon the other Lord,
a matter much to rew.
Long in the broyle of this conflict,
and battle of the mind:
They past their time with bare beleefe,
of better happ behind.
And wearing out with wailings long,
their weary liues God wot:
And finding hauen chooked vp,
where passage should be got.
At ankor vnder watch, and ward,
in tossed Barke they laye:
From whence there was no quiet meanes,
nor hope to scape awaie.
The Lady now for last farewell,
betooke her selfe to teares:
And of dispaire in pearsed brest,
a double portion beares.
Her hollow cheekes and daseled eyes,
declarde her death was neere:
And bad her keepers to prepare,
266
For nature did denie her life,
her hart was taynted so:
That cankred thought should come ful soone
and make an ende of woe.
Her colour changde her cheerfull lookes,
and countenaunce wanted spreete.
To sallow ashes turnde the hue,
of beauties blossomes sweete.
And drery dulnesse had bespred,
the wearish bodie throw:
Ech vitall vaine did flat refuse,
to doe their dutie now.
The blood forsooke the wonted course,
and backward ganne retire:
And left the limmes as cold and swarfe,
as coles that wastes with fire.
The moysture taken from the tree,
the leaues droppe downe apace:
When sap dries vp and fayles the roote,
the braunches loose their grace.
Some bowes you see doe florish fayre,
and groes a goodly height,
And some by frost, and cold ayre nipt,
and so are blasted streight.
As euery fruite and flowre in fielde,
do yeelde to sodaine claps.
So all that breathes with liuing soule,
are subiect to mishaps.
How should this dame desire to liue,
that hourely wore awaye:
Who would not shed some teares to see,
this tender twig decay.
What stonie hart could suffer more,
and beare with euen hand:
267
and whiske or whipping wand?
And when she saw her houre approche,
and death his dutie craue:
And shee amid her chiefest prime,
must goe to greedie graue.
Shee tooke of World a noble leaue,
and calling for a friend:
(Who liueth yet and can report,
how she did make an end)
Shee sayd with loude and comely voyce,
O world I thee forsake:
I haue beene here a Pilgrime long,
and now my leaue I take.
Of all thy pompe and pleasures vaine,
that makes my sences blinde:
Whose glorie doth beginne with payne,
and ends with griefe of minde.
In dungeon deepe of dayntie thoughtes,
thou holdest euerie wight:
And feedes their foolish fancie still,
with toyes and trifles light.
Thy prisoner was I borne to bee,
and Adams children all:
(Like Captiues here condemnde to die)
must suffer for his fall.
But now the chaines and lothsome lincks,
that lay on shoulders weake:
(And all the bandes and clogges of care)
in shiuers small shall breake.
And I from cage shall mount the skyes,
more swift then bird with wing:
And flickar like a simple doue,
where shining Angels sing.
I bring a badge and liuery both
268
Did leaue for such as beares his crosse,
through fogges of wordly miest.
Yea shaking off this sinfull Soyle,
mee thinke in clowdes I see:
Among the perfit chosen Lambes,
a place preparde for mee.
Heere is no home, nor harbring house,
but Cabbens built on sand:
That euery pirrie puffeth downe,
or still on proppes doe stand.
Our Fathers sweets possesse in peace,
the Countrey that wee craue:
Wee are but straungers, farre from home,
that nothing certaine haue.
These were her wordes and many moe.
which followes as shee spoke:
I did (quoth shee) by brittle life,
O Lord thy wrath prouoke,
For which I now repent mee sore,
and trusting to receaue,
Free pardon for my former faultes,
eare soule shall bodie leaue.
My faint and feeble vessell fraile,
so feares thy iustice great:
That it appeales from curse of Laws,
vnto thy mercy seate.
I am but wormes meat well I wot,
all flesh is nought but grasse:
To earth and ashes out of hand,
must all my pleasures passe.
I want the force, thou hast the might,
to striue with Death and Hell:
Thou art the Rocke, the corner Stone,
the fountaine, and the Well.
269
and vnto whom againe:
The thirstie soules, and hungrie heartes,
for helpe doe trudge amaine.
Who hath beene washed in thy blood,
is whiter than the snow:
O let the streames and floud of grace,
with fauour on mee flowe.
In booke of life, let write good Lord,
my name among the rest:
That ordaynde were, eare world was made
to sleepe in Abrams brest.
Blot out the blemish of my brow,
that at the latter daye:
May strike the conscience with dispaire,
and cloaked crimes bewraie.
Giue boldnesse to the bashfull sprite,
that feares from hence to flitte:
Make hope, and fayth now [illeg.] to see,
great God in glorie sitte.
With closed hand, than brest shee knockt,
so gaue a sigh, and stayd:
And then conceiude some inward ioy,
with cheerfull face shee sayd,
Do mourne no more, O trembling soule,
that knowes not where to staye:
Come from the kaytiffe carraine corpes,
and cabben made of claye.
And looke vppon the Lambe of God,
whose death thy raunsome payde:
That blessed babe the virgins Sonne,
that borne was of a maide.
Come silly bird out of the Den,
where naught but darknesse is:
And looke on euerlasting light,
70
The lusts of flesh and worldly pompe,
I hope are quentch in mee:
Through fayth alone from sinne and bond,
I haue escaped free.
And with that word in signe of ioy,
a Psalme full loud shee sang,
The solempne noyse and sound thereof,
thorowout the chamber rang.
And ending that to prayer straight,
of her owne mind shee fell:
The standers by whose teares burst out,
at this her last farewell
Beganne to giue her comfort than,
of life and welfare both,
Yea liue I shall and doe right well,
(quoth shee) I know for troth.
But that is in another world,
the hope of this is gone:
And reason is it should bee so,
for heere there liueth none,
But sees the vainesse of our state,
and tastes such torments still:
That sundrie times, they wish themselues,
from hence with right good will.
Heere is but toyle, and sweate of browes,
and endlesse labour found:
And nothing reapt but wretched wracke,
and broken sleepes vnsound.
Where I shall goe I cease from payne,
and so such ioy possesse:
As hart scarse thinkes, nor head conceiues,
nor tongue may well expresse.
Then hold your peace, knit vp your talke,
and trouble not the spreete,
271
for better place more meete.
A Ladie thoe that vertue likte,
and there some credit had:
Replyde and sayd O noble dame,
indeed you are too sad.
These panges shal passe, these fits shall fade
and all these passions die,
As they haue done when you full oft,
in such like sort did lye.
O Madame speake no more of that,
my time draws [illeg.]
I shall not die, but make exchaunge,
of breath and life I see,
The glasse is run, the Clocke will strike,
death doth approche apace:
My course is done, the Iudge draws neere.
to sit vppon my case.
No longer heere I may abide,
the packing day is come:
Death bids me now vnarme my selfe,
and heare the mortall Drom.
That cals me hence, as naked sure,
as to the world I cam:
The course of Nature shewes me too,
that Earth and Dust I am.
The Harrolde of long home is sent,
to summon mee in hast:
Then stay me not, for in that poynt,
both teares and wordes yee wast.
Yet eare I part, good friendes (quoth shee)
behold what hope I haue:
And note what fayth, and badge of Christ,
I carrie to my graue.
And marke, how I confesse with mouth,
272
For me, and those that earst in state,
of deepe damnation stood.
And by his passion I am saued,
and not by my desarts:
But by the helpe of him that knowes,
the thoughts of secret hearts.
Now staying heere, shee lookt about,
and to a Knight shee spake:
And him desired with humble wordes,
that he the paines would take.
To show the Prince what past her mouth,
O tell him sir quoth shee:
This is the sute, and last request,
that must be made by mee.
Unto his highnesse whose estate,
our blessed Lord maintaine:
And pray him to forgiue me now,
for I confesse it playne.
I made a fault and sore offence,
when I against his will:
Estrangde my selfe from his good grace;
for any hope or skill.
But from my breath vnto this day,
my heart and thought was cleere:
From breach of subiects dutie sure,
and I protest it heere.
I neuer ment nor purposed yet.
in word, in deed, nor thought:
No harme (nor lodgde one il conseit,
nor sparke of euill sought)
To him as God may witnesse beare,
to that which now I speake:
Saue now alas by ouersight,
of feeble fancies weake.
273
and suffer for the same:
An open checke and priuie plague,
and pinching publik blame.
I hope his highnesse hath forgot,
the fault I did commit:
And as he is a noble Prince,
in Regall throne to sit.
And iudge his subiects causes all,
so hope I of his grace:
Hee will receiue my children poore.
and helpe their heauy case.
O God forbid for Mothers fault,
the Children should abye:
No graine of grudge, nor ground of guile,
in guiltlesse babes doe lye.
I doe bequeath them now quoth shee,
vnto the Princes handes:
In hope the fauour that they finde,
shall ease the fathers handes.
My nature shows a mourning cheere,
to part from them God knowes:
For children finde small comfort heere,
when hence the mother goes.
If God moue not the Princes minde,
to pittie their estate:
Now as the Ladie did at large,
about her Babes debate,
Uppon her deere bought iewell than,
shee cast her onely thought:
Yea for whose sake and great good will,
shee was in trouble brought.
And pausing on this matter through,
a heauie sigh she gaue:
O good sir Knight sayd shee to one,
274
Commend me to my worthy friend,
and bid him comfort take:
And hope in God and Princes grace,
though I doe world forsake,
He may doe well and freedome get:
but mee hee shall not meete:
Till from the caue of pampred flesh,
departes his groning spreete.
Whiles life I had, I honoured him,
and safely kept my vow:
As life did bind mee his in all,
so death doth loose mee now.
From him and all my worldly ioyes,
but though my friend I leaue.
On high where dwells a greater freind,
(if hope not mee deceaue.)
I trust to see his babes and him,
and though much griefe it is:
To leaue them heere in bitter bale,
yet note I goe to blisse,
Where is no mind of combrous cares,
nor cause of sorrow knowne:
O tell him that aboue I hope,
these stormes shall be ore blowne;
And as a scroule is lapped vp,
yea so shall all thinges heere:
(When soule shall be immortall made)
vnto our view appeere.
No sooner of the soule shee spoke,
but sodaine chaunge beganne:
In lookes and limmes of deadly showe;
with colour pale and wan.
The eyes did stare, the bodie stretch,
the strength and force did faile:
275
the handes did quake and quayle.
The mouth did fome, the head did shake,
the flesh it quiuered fast:
The feet waxt cold, the face did sweate,
full swift the pulses past.
The heart did heaue and beat in breast,
the breath like earth did sent:
At eares, and nose the stiffled Ghost,
and vitall life sought vent.
Though gasping breath brought passiōs on
and gripe her heart full hard:
Yet showd she through those sharpe assaults
to frend a great regard.
And calling for a boxe of Ringes,
among them chose shee one:
In which was set by cunning Art,
a rich and precious stone.
Hold carrie this quoth shee good Sir,
to my deere noble Knight:
He can remember what that stone,
presents vnto his sight.
The other token that I send,
it is a waightie ring:
Best likt and dearest bought God wot,
of any earthly thing.
And when you shall giue him this gift,
desire him well to minde:
The little Impes the pretty soules,
the babes I leaue behinde.
And bid him bring them vp in feare,
of God and Prince I saie:
Loe! that is all I doe require,
of him my dying daie.
I haue no gold to send my Babes.
276
Which God confirme with grace good store
as long as they shall liue.
O yet there is another ring,
which loe my loue must see:
Where is my picture: death I meane,
and tell my friend from mee,
That I as colde and sencelesse too,
shall be in little space:
As is that shaddow dum and deaffe,
and spritelesse shape of face.
This done shee turnde her head aside,
and bad them all farewell:
Twere good quoth shee in signe of death,
I heard the passing bell.
For such as liue may pray the while,
and know when bell doth toule:
Into the bowells of the earth,
the bodie parts from soule.
Yet meete they shall when trumpet sounds
and that the dead arise:
And both together shall ascende,
I hope to starrie skies.
With this beganne the battell fierce,
betweene her life and death:
Like Ghost shee lay, whiles heart did grone
and mouth gapte wide for breath.
Then sayd shee Lord into thy handes,
I doe commend my spreet:
And so her selfe closde vp her eyes,
and hid her head in sheet.
And went awaie like infant young,
cleane voyde of storme or rage:
Or like a bodie falls a sleepe,
that cannot speake for age.
277
like weightie lump of clay:
(That earst had life and feeling force)
and past like floure away.
But when the newes of this was brought,
vnto her Playffeers eares:
With roaring voyce, and blubbred eyes,
there gushed out such teares,
That witnest well with outward signes,
what woe hee felt within:
And truely tolde when shee did ende,
his dolour did beginne.
Bereft of sleepe, and robde of rest,
hee romed vp and downe:
And cast of weedes of worldly pompe,
and clapt on mourning Gowne.
No ease nor pleasures could possesse,
nor feele the taste of meate:
Resolude to pine and starue himselfe,
his griefes they were so great.
No councell could him comfort long,
and still alone he drue:
To mourne, to moane, to houle, and cry,
and make complaint anue.
And worne away with woefull sighes,
when sorrow helped not:
At length the life must be sustaynde,
with some reliefe yee wot.
But how he takes this mischiefe yet,
and how the matter goeth:
It passeth farre my reach, and wit,
to iudge I tell you troth.
His Ladie gone, as you haue heard,
when dayes and yeares were spent:
In thraldome long, yet after that,
278
For into Princes grace againe,
hee came by blessed chaunce,
And so he liues in open Worlde,
where vertue may aduaunce:
Both him and many thousandes more,
that Noble liues doe leade,
And wisely walke with vpright mindes,
and steps of honour treade.
Loe heere you Dames of high renowne,
a Ladies death set out:
Whose life for faith, full few shall finde,
that seekes wide world about.
To God and Prince repentaunt sure,
to worlde a mirrour bright:
Wherefore with tongue, and true report,
resounde her prayse a right.
FINIS.
| Chvrchyards Challenge | |