University of Virginia Library

Eche beast can chose

A song written by the earle of Surrey by a lady that refused to daunce with him.

Eche beast can chose hys fere according to his minde,
And eke can shew a frendly chere like to their beastly kinde.
A Lion saw I late as white as any snow,
Which semed well to lead the race his port the same did show.
Vpon the gentle beast to gaze it pleased me,
For still me thought he semed well of noble blood to be.
And as he praunced before, still seking for a make,
As who wold say there is none here I trow will me forsake.
I might parceiue a wolfe as white as whales bone,
A fairer beast of fresher hue beheld I neuer none.
Saue that her lokes were coy, and froward eke her grace,
Vnto the which this gentle beast gan him aduance apace.
And with a beck full low he bowed at herfeete,

[_]

her feete

In humble wise as who would say I am to farre vnmete.
But such a scornefull chere wherwith she him rewarded,
Was neuer sene I trow the like to such as well deserued.
With that she start aside welnere a fote or twaine,
And vnto him thus gan she say with spite and great disdaine.
Lyon she sayd if thou hadst knowen my mind before,
Thou hadst not spent thy trauail thus nor al thy paine forlore.
Do way I let the wete thou shalt not play with me,
Go range about where thou mayst finde some meter fere for the:
With that he bet his taile, his eyes began to flame,
I might perceiue hys noble hart much moued by the same.
Yet saw I him refraine and eke his wrath aswage,
And vnto her thus gan he say when he was past his rage.

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Cc4v

Cruell, you do me wrong to set me thus so light,
Without desert for my good will to shew me such despight.
How can ye thus entreat a Lion of the race,
That with his pawes a crowned king deuoured in the place:
Whose nature is to pray vpon no simple food,
As long as he may suck the fleshe, and drink of noble blood.
If you be faire and fresh, am I not of your hue?
And for my vaunt I dare well say my blood is not vntrue.
For you your self haue heard it is not long agoe,
Sith that for loue one of the race did end his life in woe
In tower strong and hie for his assured truthe,
Where as in teares he spent his breath, alas the more the ruthe.
This gentle beast likewise whom nothing could remoue,
But willingly to lese his life for losse of his true loue.
Other there be whose liues doe lingre still in paine,
Against their willes preserued ar that would haue died faine.
But now I doe perceue that nought it moueth you,
My good entent, my gentle hart, nor yet my kind so true.
But that your will is such to lure me to the trade,
As other some full many yeres to trace by craft ye made.
And thus behold our kyndes how that we differ farre.
I seke my foes: and you your frendes do threten still with warre.
I fawne where I am fled: you slay that sekes to you,
I can deuour no yelding pray: you kill where you subdue.
My kinde is to desire the honoure of the field:
And you with blood to slake your thirst on such as to you yeld.
Wherfore I would you wist that for your coyed lokes,
I am no man that will be trapt nor tangled with such hokes.
And though some lust to loue where blame full well they might
And to such beasts of currant sort that should haue trauail bright.
I will obserue the law that nature gaue to me,
To conquer such as will resist and let the rest goe fre.
And as a faucon free that soreth in the ayre,
Which neuer fed on hand nor lure, nor for no stale doth care,
While that I liue and breath such shall my custome be,
In wildnes of the woodes to seke my pray where pleseth me.
Where many one shal ruse, that neuer made offense.
This your refuse against my power shall bode them ne defence.
And for reuenge therof I vow and swere therto,
I thousand spoiles I shall commit I neuer thought to do.
And if to light on you my luck so good shall be,
I shall be glad to fede on that that would haue fed on me.

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Dd1r

And thus farewell vnkinde to whom I bent and bow,
I would ye wist the ship is safe that bare his sailes so low.
Sith that a lions hart is for a wolfe no pray,
With bloody mouth go slake your thirst on simple shepe I say.
With more dispite and ire than I can now expresse,
Which to my pain though I refraine the cause you may wel gesse.
As for because my self was aucthor of the game,
It bootes me not that for my wrath I should disturbe the same.