 | Chvrchyards Challenge |  |
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.
| Chvrchyards Challenge | |