University of Virginia Library

Minor Poems.

I. Yet other Twelve Wonders of the World.

BY SIR JOHN DAUIS.

II. A Contention

BETWIXT A WIFE, A WIDDOW, AND A MAIDE.

Wife.
Widdow, well met; whither goe you to day?
Will you not to this solemne offering go?
You know it is Astrea's holy day,
The saint to whom all hearts deuotion owe.

Widow.
Marry, what else? I purpos'd so to doe:
Doe you not marke how all the wiues are fine,
And how they haue sent presents ready too,
To make their offering at Astrea's shrine?
See then, the shrine and tapers burning bright!
Come, friend, and let vs first ourselues advance;
We know our place, and if we haue our right,
To all the parish we must leade the dance.
But soft! what means this bold presumptuous Maid,
To goe before, without respect of vs?
Your frowardnesse (proude maide!) must now be staide:
Where learnd you to neglect your betters thus?

Maid.
Elder you are, but not my betters here:
This place to maids a priuiledge must giue;
The Goddesse, being a maid, holds maidens deare,
And grants to them her own prerogatiue.
Besides, on all true virgins, at their birth,
Nature hath set a crowne of excellence,
That all the wiues and widdowes of the earth,
Should giue them place, and doe their reuerence?

Wife.
If to be borne a maide be such a grace,
So was I borne, and grac't by Nature to;
But seeking more perfection to embrace,
I did become a wife as others doe.

Widow.
And if the maid and wife such honour haue
I haue beene both, and hold a third degree;
Most maides are wardes, and euery wife a slaue:
I haue my livery sued, and I am free.

Maid.
That is the fault, that you haue maidens beene,
And were not constant to continue so;
The fals of angels did increase that sinne,
In that they did so pure a state forgoe:
But, wife and widdow, if your wits can make
Your state and persons of more worth then mine,
Aduantage to this place I will not take;
I will both place and priuiledge resign.

Wife.
Why marriage is an honourable state!

Widow.
And widdow-hood is a reuerend degree!

Maid.
But maidenhead, that will admit no mate,
Like maiestie itselfe must sacred be.

Wife.
The wife is mistresse of her family:

Widow.
Much more the widdow, for she rules alone:

Maid.
But mistresse of mine owne desires am I,
When you rule others wils, and not your owne.

Wife.
Onely the wife enjoys the vertuous pleasure:

Widow.
The widow can abstaine from pleasures known;

Maid.
But th'vncorrupted maid preserues such measure,
As being by pleasures wooed, she cares for none.

Wife.
The wife is like a faire supported vine;

Widow.
So was the widdow, but now stands alone,
For being growne strong, she needs not to incline.

Maid.
Maids, like the earth, supported are of none.

Wife.
The wife is as a diamond richly set;

Maid.
The maide vnset doth yet more rich appeare;

Widow.
The widdow a iewel in the cabinet,
Which though not worn is still esteem'd as deare.

Wife.
The wife doth loue and is belou'd againe;

Widow.
The widdow is a wakt out of that dreame,

Maid.
The maid's white minde had neuer such a staine;
No passion troubles her cleare vertue's streame;
Yet, if I would be lou'd, lou'd would I be,
Like her whose vertue in the bay is seene:
Loue to wife fades with satietie,
Where loue neuer enioy'd is euer greene.

Widow.
Then what's a virgin but a fruitlesse bay?

Maid.
And what's a widdow but a rose-lesse bryer?
And what are wiues but woodbinds which decay
The stately oakes by which themselues aspire?
And what is marriage but a tedious yoke?

Widow.
And what's virginitie but sweete selfe loue?

Wife.
And what's a widdow but an axell broke,
Whose one part failing, neither part can mooue?

Widow.
Wiues are as birds in golden cages kept

Wife.
Yet in those cages cheerfully they sing:

Widow.
Widdowes are birds out of these cages lept
Whose joyfull notes makes all the forrest ring.

Maid.
But maides are birds amidst the woods secure,
Which neuer hand could touch, nor yet could take;
Nor whistle could deceiue, nor baite allure,
But free vnto themselues doe musicke make.

Wife.
The wife is as the turtle with her mate;

Widow.
The widdow as the widdow done alone,
Whose truth shines most in her forsaken state;

Maid.
The maid a Phœnix, and is still but one.

Wife.
The wife's a soule vnto her body tyed;

Widow.
The widdow a soule departed into blisse.

Maid.
The maid, an angell, which was stellified,
And now t'as faire a house descended is.

Wife.
Wives are faire houses kept and furnisht well;

Widow.
Widdowes old castles voide, but full of state:

Maid.
But maids are temples where the gods do dwell,
To whom alone themselues they dedicate;
But marriage is a prison during life,
Where one way out, but many entries be:

Wife.
The nun is kept in cloyster, not the wife,
Wedlocke alone doth make the virgin free.

Maid.
The maid is euer fresh, like morne in May;

Wife.
The wife with all her beames is beautified,
Like to the high noone, the glory of the day;

Widow.
The widow, like a milde sweet, euen-tide.

Wife.
An office well supplide is like the wife;

Widow.
The widow, like a gainfull office voide;

Maid.
But maids are like contentment in this life,
Which al the world haue sought, but none enioy'd.
Go, wife, to Dunmow, and demaund your flitch.

Widow.
Goe, gentle maide, goe, leade the apes in hell.

Wife.
Goe, widow, make some younger brother rich,
And then take thought and die, and all is well.
Alas, poor maid! that hast no help nor stay.

Widow.
Alas, poore wife! that nothing dost possesse.

Maid.
Alas, poore widdow! Charitie doth say,
Pittie the widow and the fatherlesse!

Widow.
But happy widdowes haue the world at will.

Wife.
But happier wiues, whose ioys are euer double.

Maid.
But happiest maids, whose hearts are calme and still;
Whom feare, nor hope, nor loue, nor hate doth trouble.

Wife.
Euery true wife hath an indented heart,
Wherein the covenants of loue are writ;
Whereof her husband keepes the counterpart,
And reads his comforts and his ioyes in it.

Widow.
But euery widdowe's heart is like a booke,
Where her ioyes past, imprinted doe remaine;
But when her iudgement's eye therein doth looke,
She doth not wish they were to come againe.

Maid.
But the maid's heart a faire white table is,
Spotlesse and pure, where no impressions be,
But the immortal caracters of blisse,
Which onely God doth write, and angels see.

Wife.
But wiues haue children: what a ioy is this!

Widow.
Widows haue children too; but maids haue none.

Maid.
No more haue angels; yet they haue more blisse
Then euer yet to mortall man was knowne.

Wife.
The wife is like a faire manurèd field;

Widow.
The widow once was such, but now doth rest;

Maid.
The maide, like Paradice, vndrest, vntil'd,
Beares crops of natiue vertue in her breast.

Wife.
Who would not dye as wife, as Lucrece died?

Widow.
Or liue a widdow, as Penelope?

Maid.
Or be a maide, and so be stellified,
As all the Vertues and the Graces be.

Wife.
Wiues are warme Climates well inhabited;
But maids are frozen zones where none may dwel.

Maid.
But fairest people in the North are bred,
Where Africa breeds Monsters blacke as hell.

Wife.
I haue my husband's honour and his place.

Widow.
My husband's fortunes all suruiue to me,

Maid.
The moone doth borrow light: you borrow grace:
When maids by their owne vertues gracèd be.
White is my colour; and no hew but this
It will receiue; no tincture can it staine.

Wife.
My white hath tooke one colour; but it is
My honourable purple dyed in graine.

Widow.
But it hath beene my fortune to renue
My colour twice from that it was before;
But now my blacke will take no other hue,
And therefore now I meane to change no more.

Wife.
Wiues ar faire apples seru'd in golden dishes;

Widow.
Widows good wine, which time makes better much;

Maid.
But maids are grapes, desired by many wishes,
But that they grow so high as none can touch.

Wife.
I haue a daughter equals you, my girle,

Maid.
The daughter doth excell the mother, then:
As pearles are better then the mother of pearle;
Maids loose their value when they match with men.

Widow.
The man with whom I matcht, his worth was such
As now I scorne a maide should be my peare:

Maid.
But I will scorne the man you praise so much,
For maids are matchlesse, and no mate can beare.
Hence is it that the virgine neuer loues,
Because her like she finds not anywhere;
For likenesse euermore affection moues,
Therefore the maide hath neither loue nor peeres.

Wife.
Yet many virgins married wiues would be;

Widow.
And many a wife would be a widdow faine.

Maid.
There is no widdow but desires to see,
If so she might, her maiden daies againe.

Widow.
There neuer was a wife that liked her lot:

Wife.
Nor widdow but was clad in mourning weeds.

Maid.
Doe what you will, marry or marry not,
Both this estate and that, repentance breedes.

Wife.
But she that this estate and that hath seene,
Doth find great ods betweene the wife and girle.

Maid.
Indeed she doth, as much as is betweene
The melting haylestone and the solid pearle.

Wife.
If I were widdow, my merry dayes were past;

Widow.
Nay, then you first become sweete Pleasure's guest.

Wife.
For maydenhead is a continuall fast,
And marriage is a continual feast.

Maid.
Wedlock indeed hath oft comparèd bin
To publike Feasts, where meete a publike rout,
Where they that are without would faine go in,
And they that are within would faine go out.
Or to the iewell which this vertue had,
That men were mad till they might it obtaine;
But when they had it, they were twise as mad,
Till they were disposest of it againe.

Wife.
Maids cannot iudge, because they cannot tell,
What comforts and what ioyes in marriage be.

Maid.
Yes, yes; though blessed saints in heauen do dwell,
They doe the soules in Purgatory see.

Widow.
If euery wife do liue in Purgatory,
Then sure it is that Widdowes liue in blisse,
And are translated to a state of glory;
But Maids as yet haue not attaind'd to this.

Maid.
Not maids? To spotlesse maids this gift is giuen,
To liue in incorruption from their birth:
And what is that, but to inherit heauen
Euen while they dwell vpon the spotted earth?
The perfectest of all created things;
The purest gold, that suffers no allay;
The sweetest flower that on th'earth's bosome springs;
The pearle vnbord, whose price no price can pay;
The christall glasse that will no venome hold;
The mirror, wherein Angels loue to looke:
Dianae's bathing Fountaine, cleere and cold;
Beautie's fresh rose, and Vertue's living booke,
Of loue and fortune both, the mistresse borne,
The soueraigne spirit that will be thrall to none:
The spotlesse garment that was neuer worne;
The princely eagle that still flyes alone.
She sees the world, yet her cleere thought doth take
No such deepe print as to be chang'd thereby;
As when we see the burning fire doth make
No such impression as doth burne the eye.

Wife.
No more (sweete maid) our strife is at an end,
Cease now; I fear we shall transformèd be
To chattering pies, as they that did contend
To match the Muses in their harmony.

Widow.
Then let vs yeeld the honour and the place,
And let vs both be sutors to the Maid;
That, since the goddesse giues her speciall grace,
By her cleere hands the offring be conuaide

Maid.
Your speech I doubt hath some displeasure mou'd;
Yet let me haue the offring, I will see:
I know she hath both wiues and widdowes lou'd,
Though she would neither wife nor widdow be

III. A Lottery.

Presented before the late Queene's Maiesty at the Lord Chancelor's House, 1601.

A Marriner with a boxe under his arme, contayning all the seuerall things following, supposed to come from the Carrick came into the Presence, singing this Song:
And the Song ended, he vttred this short Speech:

God saue you faire ladies all: and for my part, if euer I be brought to answere [for] my sinnes, God forgiue my sharking, and lay usury to my charge. I am a Marriner, and am now come from the sea, where I had the fortune to light upon these few trifles. I must confesse I came but lightly by them; but I no sooner had them, but I made a vow, that as they came to my hands by Fortune, so I would not part with them but by Fortune. To that end I have euer since carried these Lots about me, that if I met with fit company, I might deuide my booty among them. And now, (I thanke my good fortune)! I am lighted into the best company of the world, a company of the fairest ladyes that euer I saw. Come Ladies, try your fortunes; and if any light upon an unfortunate blanke, let her thinke that fortune doth but mock her in these trifles, and meanes to pleasure her in greater matters.

IV. Canzonet.

A HYMNE IN PRAISE OF MUSICKE.

V. Reason's Moane.

VI. On the Death of Lord Chancellor Ellesemere's Second Wife in 1599.

VII Tityrus to his Faire Phillis.

VIII. A Riddle vpon a Coffin.

There was a man bespake a thing,
Which when the owner home did bring,
He that made it did refuse it;
And hee that brought it would not vse it;
And he that hath it doth not know,
Whether hee hath it, yea or no.

[_]

From the “Philosopher's Banquet, second edit. 1614, 8 vo., p. 261.