auaileth it to talke of wisedome to a foole or of the wrath of God to a wilfull reprobate The Charmer charme hee neuer so wisely charmes in vaine if the Adder be deaffe and he casteth stones against the winde that seeketh to drawe the wicked from his follie let me therefore poore soule more narrowlie consider mine owne case I am perplexed with diuers doubtfull passions and gréeuous troubles assaileth me on euerie side if I commit this crime though neuer so secretly yet the Lord is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and pearceth into the verie thoughts and mine owne conscience will be a continuall witnesse against me of this wickednesse Stopendium peccatimors then what other hap can I hope for but perpetuall damnation sith the Lord himselfe hath promised to bee a swiâ—â— witnesse against all wilfull adulterers And if I consent not vnto this vnrighteous wretch I am like to be vniustlie accused of the like crime and so shall I being guiltlesse haue mine honour euer blemishe with infamie By this meanes what a discredite shall I bring to my parents to my husband and my children the hoarie haiâ—es of my father shall be brought with sorrowe vnto the graue Francesco shall be ashamed to shewe his face in the streates of the Citie and my 〈…〉 seede of an harlotâ— and 〈◊〉 alas I mâ— self◠〈◊〉 â—acklesse Why my secret offence shal 〈◊〉 al this open shame The Lord is slow to wrâ—th 〈◊〉 his mercie exceedeth al his workes hee wisheth not the death 〈…〉 â—nd 〈◊〉 repentance pacifiâ—th his displeasure But oh vile wretch that I am why doe I blaspheme 〈…〉 the Lâ—â— and his Law why doe A 〈…〉 Câ—n I say I will repâ—â—â— at my 〈◊〉 or shall I 〈◊〉 sinne in hope because the Lorde is merciâ—â—ll 〈◊〉 it iâ— better for me to fall into thy handes 〈…〉 commit the 〈◊〉 than to sinne in the sight of the Lorâ—â— shal I not rather feare God than man and dread him more that killeth both soule and body than him that hâ—th powâ—r 〈◊〉 to kil the bodie onely Yet his feare shall be my defâ—â—ce 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 shee raysed her selfe vp spitted in his face and wisht him to doe his worst whereupon â—e calleâ— vp the wâ—tch and commanded her to make hee readie for shâ—â— should to prisoâ— Her Host wondring what the cause should 〈…〉 to her â—ctions and the â—ertue of heâ— life 〈…〉 his word for heâ— that she should the â—ext day 〈◊〉 whatsoeuer should be obiected against herâ— but hiâ— woâ—de woulde not be taken for Bernardo 〈◊〉 â—ull of â—urie caried her away to prison where dâ—epelâ— grieâ—â—d and yet smothering her sorrow wiâ—h patience 〈…〉 next morrow assoone as day brake she cald for pen and inck and wrote this mournfull 〈◊〉 Isabels Sonnet that she made in prison No 〈…〉 For 〈…〉 The 〈…〉 The 〈…〉 Report that sild to honour is a friend May many liâ—s against true meaning mynt But yet at last Gainst slaunders blast Truth doth the silly sackles soule defend Though false reproach seeks honour to distaine And enuy bites the bud though nere so pure Though lust doth seek to blemish â—hast desire Yet truth thaâ— bâ—oâ—kes not falshoods flaunderous staine Nor can the spight of enâ—ies wrath indure Will trie truâ— loue from lust in Iâ—stice fire And mauâ—geâ— all Well free from thrâ—â—â— The guiltles soule that keepes his footing sure Where innocence triumpheth in her prime And guilt cannot approach the honest mind Where chast intent is free from any misse Though 〈◊〉 striue yet searching time With piercing insight will the truth out finde And make discouerie who the guiltie isâ— For time still tries The truth from lies And God makes open what the world doth blinds Veritas Tempâ—ris filia ISabel wetting her sonnet with â—eares and pronouncing euery line with a sigh sate in a dump Whilest the fame of this fact was spread abroad throughouâ— al CaerbraÌ„ck euery man began sundrie coniectures as affection led them her friendes sorrowing suspected the cankred mind of the Burgomaster yet for his calling durst not discouer their suspition hir foes laughing saide that dissembled holynes was a double sinne and that the holiâ—st couâ—â—enaunce hath mischiefes I thought it my duety to bring her into open infamie that she may be punished for her fault knowen for a hâ—rlot and from hencefoorth liue dispised and hated of all For proofe that shee hath liued long in this leawd kinde of life this young man shall here before you all make present deposition and with that he reacht him â— bible whereoâ— he swore that hee had long time conuerst dishonestly with Isabel euer since the departure of her husband At which oath the people that were Iurours in the cause beleeuing the protestation of Bernardo and the deposition of the youth presently found hir guiltie and then Bernardo and the rest of the Bâ—rgomasters gaue iudgement that she should presently haue some open and seueâ—â— punishment after â—t banished â—ut of the town Assoone as Isabel heard the censure she appeald for no mercy nor bashed any whit as one desirous of fauour but lifting vp her eyes to heauen onely sayd thus O God which seest the secrets of all hearts and knowest all things before they come to passe which desâ—erâ—est the very inward thoughts and â—riest the heart and the reines Thou knoweâ—t that because I would not consent vnto the filthie Iust of this â—oting lecher nor agree by defiling my husbands bed to fulfil his fleshly desires that he hath slandred me with that crime wherof I was neuer guilty that he hath produced this young maâ— by sinister subornation to periure himself in a fault wheras not so much as in thought I coÌ„mitted such a fact he hath to satisfie his malicious mind without cause deuised this false crime I confesse O Lordis be a most grieuous offendâ—r and to deserue farre greater punishment but not for this dâ—â—â—e Heare then O Lord my prâ—yer and let the innocence of my case plead before thy deuine maiesâ—y if it be thy will preâ—â—â—â— his 〈◊〉 confound his counsels and let him which hath digged the pit for others fall into the snare himselfe Thou hast neuer as yet O Lorde lets the suâ—câ—â—rles without helpeâ— but hast deliuered them which feare thee froÌ„ al aduersitiâ— thou didâ—se set free Ioseph from the handes of his brethren which sought to spill his bloud and didst preuent the practises of Sâ—â—l inteâ—â—ed against thy seruant Dauidâ— Elizeâ—◠〈…〉 Dotham was not onely freed from his 〈◊〉 but also guarded about with a troupe of holy Angels Elias was â—reserued from the cruelâ—ie of Iesabel and 〈◊〉 with Rauens But chiefly in my case howe mightily â—iâ—st thou 〈◊〉 Susanna from the â—reacherie of the two Elders in raysing vp young Daniel to maintaine her rightâ— Nay 〈◊〉 hath trusted in thy mercie which hath come to mishâ—ppeâ— or who hath put his hope in thee and hath suffered harme So O Lord if it be thy will thou canst disciose the deuise
GREENES Neuer too late Or A Powder of Experience Sent to all youthfull Gentlemen to roote out the infectious follies that ouer-reaching conceits foster in the spring time of their youth Decyphering in a true English historie those particular vanities that with their frostie vapours nip the blossoms of euerie ripe braine from atteining to his intended perfection As pleasant as profitable being a right pumice stone apt to race out idlenesse with delight and follie with admonition Rob. Greene in artibus Magister Omne tulit punctum LONDON Printed by Thomas Orwin for N.L. and Iohn Busbie 1590. To the right Worshipfull Thomas Burnaby Esquire Robert Greene wisheth encrease of al honorable vertues SVch right Worshipfull as coueted to decke the Temple of Delphos adorned the shrine eyther with greene bayes or curious instruments because Apollo did as well patronize Musicke as Poetrie When the Troyans sought to pacifie the wrath of Pallas the peoples presents were books and launces to signifie her deitie as well defended by letters as armes And they which desired to be in the fauor of Alexander brought him either wise Philosophers or hardy Souldiours for hee sought counsellers like Aristotle and captaines like Perdycas Seeing then how giftes are the more gratefullie accepted by how much the more they fit the humâ—r of the party to whome they are presented desirous a long time to gratifiâ— your Worship with something that might signifie how in al bounden duetie I haue for sundry fauors bin affected to your Worship and finding my ability to be vnfit to present you with any thing of woorth at last I resolued so farre to presume as to trouble your Worship wyth the patronage of this Pamphâ—â—t knowing you are such a Maecenas of learning â—hat you will as soone vouch with Augustus a fâ—w verses giuen by a poor Greeke as of the Arabian Courser presented by Tytinius The Booke is little yet drawen from a large principle Nunquam 〈◊〉 est ad bonos more 's via wherin I haue discouerâ—â— so artificially the fraudulent effects of Venus trumperies and so plainly as in a platforme laide open the preiudiciall pleasures of loue that Gentlemen may see that as the Diamond is beauteous to the sight and yet deadly poyson to the stomacke that as the Baâ—an leafe containeth both the Antidote and the Aconiton so loue vnlesse only grounded vpon vertue breedeth more disparagement to the credit than content to the fancy If then right Worshipfull out of this confused Chaos Gentlemen shâ—ll gather any principles whereby to direct their actions and that from rash and resolute mainteners of Venus heresies they become reformed champions to defend Vestaes philosophies Then all the profit and pleasure that shall redound to them by this Pamphlet shall be attribuâ—ed to your Worship as to the man by whose meanes thâ—s Nunquam sera came to light Hoping therfore your Worship wil with a fauorable insight enter more into the mind of the giuer than the woorth of the gift I commit your Worship vnto the Almightie Your Worships humbly to commaund Rob. Greene. To the Gentlemâ—â— Readers SVch GentlemeÌ„ as had their â—ares filld with the harmony of Orpheus harp could not abide th' arsh musick of Hiparchions pipe yet the Thessalians would allowe tâ—e poore fidler license to frolick it among shepheards Though no pictures could goe for currant with Alexander bâ—t such as past through Apelles pensill yet poore men had their houses shadowed with Phidias course colours Ennius was called a Poet as well as Virgil and Vulcan with his poâ—t foote friskt with Venus as well as Mars Gentlemen if I presume to present you as hethertoo I haue done with friuolous toyes yet for that I stretch my strings as hie as I can if you praise me not with Orpheus hisse me not out with Hiparchion if I I paint not with Apelles yet scrape not out my shadowes with disgrace if I stirre my stumpes with Vulcan though it bee lamely done yet thinke it is a daunce so if my Nunquam sera est please not yet I pray you passe it ouer with patience and say t is a booke So hoping I shall finde you as euer I haue done I end Robert Greene. A Madrigale to wanton Louers YOu that by Alcidalions siluer brookes Sit and sigh out the passions of your loues That on your Goddesse beauties feede your lookes And pamper vp sweete Venus wanton Doues That seeke to sit by Cupids scorching fire And dally in the fountaines of desire You that accompt no heauen like Venus spheare That thinke each dimple in your Mistresse chin Earths paradice that deeme her golden haire Tresses of blisse wherein to wander in That sigh and court suppliant all to proue Cupid is God and there 's no heauen but Loue. Come see the worke that Greene hath sâ—ilie wrought Take but his Nunquam sera in your view As in a myrrour there is deeply taught The wanton vices of prowd fancies crew There is depainted by most curious art How loue and follie iumpe in euery part There may you see repentance all in blacke Scourging the forward passions of fond youth How fadâ—ng pleasures end in dismall wracke How louers ioyes are tempred all with ruth Sith then his Nunquam sera yeeldes such gaines Reade it and thanke the Author for his paines Ralph Sidley 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 IF Horace satyres merit mickle praise For taunting such as liu'd in Paphos I le If wise Propertius was in elder dayes Laureat for figuring out fond Venus wile If Rome applauded Ouids pleasing verse That did the salues that medcine loue rehearse Then English Gentles stoope and gather bayes Make coronets of Floraes proudest flowers As gifts for Greene for he must haue the praise And taste the deawes that high Parnaâ—sus showers As hauing leapt beyond olde Horace straine In taunting louers for their fruitlesse paine His Nunquam sera more conceits combines Than wanton Ouid in his art did paint And sharper satyres are within his lines Than Martial sâ—ong prowd Venus to attaint Reade then his art and all his actions proue There is no follie like to foolish loue Richard Hake Gent. GREENES Nunquam sera est BEing resident in Bergamo not farre distant from Venice sitting vnder a coole shade that theÌ„ shrowded me from the extreme violence of the meridionall heate hauing neuer a booke in my hand to beguyle tyme nor no patheticall impression in my head to procure any secret meditation I had flat fallen into a slumber if I had not espied a traueller weary and desolate to haue bended his steppes towards me Desirous to shake off drowsinesse with some companie I attended his arriuall but as hee drewe neâ—re he sâ—emed so quaint in his attire and so conceited in his countenaunce as I deemed the man eyther some penitent pilgrime that was very religious or some despayring louer that had bin too too affectionate For thus take his description An Ode Downe the valley gan he tracke Bagge and bottle at his backe
In a surcoate all of gray Such weare Palmers on the way When with scrip and staffe they see Iesus graue on Caluarie A hat of straw like a swaine Shealter for the sonne and raine With a scollop shell before Sandalls on his feete he wore Legs were bare armes vnclad Such attire this Palmer had His face faire like Titans shineâ— Gray and bâ—â—some were his eyne Whereout dropt pearles of sorrow Such sweete teares Loue doth borrow When in outward dâ—awes she plaines Harts distresse that Louers painesâ— Rubie lips cherrie cheekes Such rare mixture Venus seekes When to keepe hir damsels quiet Beautie sets them downe their diet Adon ' was not thought more â—aire Curled lockes of amber haire Lockes where Loue did sit and twine Nets to snare the gazers eyne Such a Palmer nere was seene Lesse loue himselâ—e had Palmer been Yet for all he was so quaint Sorrow did his visage taint Midst the riches of his face Griefe decyphred hiâ— disgrace Euerie step straâ—â—d a â—eare Sodaine sighes shewd his feare And yet his feare by his sight Ended in a strâ—nge delight That his passions did approue Weâ—des and sorrow were for loue Thus attired in his trauelling roabes and leueld out in the lineaments of his Phisâ—â—mie not seeing me that lay close in the thicketh hâ—â—â—ate him downe vnder a Beech tree where after he had taken vp his seate with a sigh he began thus to point out his passions Infortunate Palmer whose wéedes discouers thy woes whose lookes thy sorrowes whose sighes thy repentance thoâ— wandrest to bewayâ—e thy sinne that heretoâ— fore hast not wondred at the greatnesse of sinne and seekest now by the sight of a strange Land to satisfie those solâ—â—es committed in thy Natiue home Why is there more grace in the East than in the Westâ—â— is God more gracious in â—ewrie than mercifull in England more fauourable to Palmers for their trauell than piâ—ifull to sinnerâ— for their penaunce No bee not so superstitious least thou measuring his fauour by circumstaunce hee punish thy faultes in seueritie Ah but the déepest vlcers haue the sharpest corasiues some sores can not be cured but by Sublâ—matum and some offences as they beginne in content so they ende in sackâ—loth I weare not this Palmers gray to challenge grace nor seeke the holy Land to counteruaile the Lawe nor am a Pilgrime to acquittance sinne with penaunce but I content mee in this habite to shewe the meeknes of my hart and trauel through many countries to make other men learâ—e to beware by my harmes for if I come amoÌ„gst youth I will shew them that the finest buds are soonest â—â—pâ— with frosts the sweetest flowers soresâ— eaten with canckars the ripest yongâ—st â—its soonest ouergrowen with follies if I chance among Courtiers I wil tel theÌ„ â—hat as the star Artophilex is brightest yet setteth soonest so their gloâ—â—es bâ—ing most gorgeous are dashâ— with sodainest ouerthrowes if amoÌ„g scholâ—ers I wil proue that their Philosophical axiomes their quiddities of Logicke their aphorisms of art are dissolued with this definit periâ—d Omma sub sole vanitas â— If amongst Louers and with this the teares fell from his eyes and the sighes flew from his hart as if all should split again If quoth he and he doubled his words with an Emphasis I fall amoÌ„gst Louers I will deâ—ypher to them that their God is a boy as fond as he is blinde their Goddesse a woman inconstantâ— false flattring like the windes that rise in the shoares of Lepanthus which in the morning send forth gusts froÌ„ the North and in the Euening calmes from the Westâ— that their fancies are like Aprill showers begun with a Sunne shine ended in a storme their passions déep hels their pleasures Chimeraes portraitures sodaine ioyes that appearing like Iuno are nothing when Ixion toucheth them but duskie fading clowdes Here he stopped and tooke his scrip from his backe and his bottle from his side and with such cates as he had as limons apricocks and oliues he began a palmers banquet which digesting with a cup of wine well teÌ„pred with water after euerie draught he sighed out this Nunquam sera est ad bonos more 's via When he had taken his repast casting vp his eyes to heauen as beeing thankfull for his benefites and sorrowfull for his sinnes falling into a déepe meditation after hee had a while lien as a man in a Traunce he started vp sodainly and with a halfe chéered countenance song out this Ode The Palmers Ode OLde Menalcas on a day As in field this shepheard layâ— Tuning of his oâ—en pipe Which he hit with manie a stripe Said to Coridon that hee Once was yong and full of glee Blithe and wanton was I then Such desires follow men As I lay and kept my sheepe Came the God that hateth sleepe Clad in armour all of fire Hand in hand with Queene Desire And with a dart that wounded nie Pearst my heart as I did lie That when I wooke I gan sweare Phillis beautie palme did beare Vp I start foorth went I With hir face to feede mine eye There I saw Desire sit That my heart with Loue had hit Laying foorth bright Beauties hookes To intrap my gazing lookes Loue I did and gan â—o woe Pray and sigh all would not doe Women when they take the toy Couet to be counted coy Coy she was and I gan court She thought Loue was but a sport Profound Hell was in my thought Such a paine Desire had wrought That I sued with sighes and teares Still ingrate she stopt hir eares Till my youth I had spent Last a passion of Repent Tolde me flat that Desire Was a brâ—nd of Loues fire Which consumeth men in thrall Vertue youth wit and all At this sawe backe I start Bet Desire from my hart Shooke of Loue and made an â—th To be enemie to both Olde I was when thus I fled Such fond â—oyes as cloyde my heaâ— But this I learnd at Vertues gaâ—e The way to good is neuer late Nunquam sera est ad bonos more 's via As soone as he had ended his Ode he fell to his old principle Nunquam sera est and confirming it with a sigh he rose vp was ready to depart towards Bergamo to take vp his lodging for the sâ—nne was declining towardes the West But I desirous to search further into this passionate Palmer crost him the way with this salutation Palmâ—r for so thy apparâ—ll discouers and penitent if thy inward hâ—art agree with thy outward passions if my quesâ—ions may not aggrauate thy griefe nor my demaund be tedious to thy trauels let me craue of curtesie whither thou dost bend the end of thy pilgrimage that if thou beest stept awry I may dirâ—ct thee or if thou knowest the countrey I may wish boone fortune to thy iouâ—ney for I haue all my life time coueted to be faithful to my friends and curteous to strangers The Palmer amazed at my sodaine salutation stept
darts of fier Feathred all with swift desier Yet foorth these fierie darts did passe Pearled teares as bright as glasse That wonder t was in her eine Fire and water should combine If â—h'old saw did not borrow Fier is loue and water sorrow Downe she sate pale and sad No mirth in hir lookes she had Face and eies shewd distresse Inward sighes discourst no lesse Head on hand might I see Elbow leaned on hir knee Last she breathed out this saw Oh that loue hath no law Loue inforceth with constraint Loue delighteth in complaint Who so loues hates his life For loues peâ—ce is mindes strife Loue doth frede on beauties fare Euerie dish sawâ—t with care Câ—iefly women reason why Loue is hatcht in their eye Thence it steppeth to the hart There it poysonetâ— euerie part Minde and heart eye and thought Till sweete loue their woeâ— hath wrought Then repentant they gan crie Oh my heart â—hat trowed mine eye Thus she said and then she rose Face and minde both full of woes Flinging thence with this saw Fie on loue that hath no law Hauing finished her Doe she heard that her father was come in and therefore leauing hir an â—â—ous iâ—strumenâ—s she fell to her labour to confirme the olde proueâ—be in her fathers iâ—lous head Otia si â—ollas periere Cupidinis arcuâ— but as warye as she was yet the old goose could spiâ— the gosling winke and woulde not vp anie meanes trust her but vsed his accustomed manner of restraint yet as it is impossible for the smoake to be concealed or fire to be suppressed so Fregoso coulde by no subtill driftes so warâ—ly watch his â—raâ—sâ—ormed Io but she found a Mâ—rcurie to release her For vpon the thursâ—ay lying in her bed with little intent to sléepe she offered manie sighes to Venus that she would be â—â—atresse to Morpheus that some dead slumber might possesse all the house which fel out accordinâ—ly so that at midnight she rose vp finding her apparell shut vp she was faine to goe without hose onely in her â—mocke and her peticoate with her fathers hat and an olde cloake Thus attired like Diana in her night géete shee marcheth downe softly where she found Francesco readie with a priuate and familiar frend of his to watch her comming forth who casting his eye aside séeing one in a hat and a cloake suspecting some treacherie drew his sword at which Isabel smiling she incountred him thus Gentle sir if you be as valiant as you séeme cholaricke or as martiall as you would be thought hardie set not vpon a weaponlesse woman least in thinking to triumph in so meane a conquest you be preiudicte with the taint of cowardise T was neuer yet read that warlicke Mars drew his fawchion against louely Venus â— were her offence neuer great or his choller neuer so much Therefore Gentleman if you be the man I take you Isabels Francesco leaue off your armes and fall to amours and let your parlée in them be as short as the night is silent and the time dangerous Francesco séeing it was the Paramour of his affections let fall his sword and caught her in his armes readie to fall in a swound by a sodaine extasie of ioy at last recouering his senses he encountred her thus Faire Isabel Natures ouermatch in beautie as you are Dianas superior in vertue at the sight of this attiâ—e I dreâ— my sword as fearing some priuie foe but as soone as the view of your perfection glaunced as an obiect to mine eye I let fal mine armes trembling as Acteon did that he had dared too farre in gazing against so gorgeous a Goddesse yet readie in the defence of your sweet selfe and rather than I would loose so rich a prize not onely to take vp my weapons but to incouÌ„ter hand to hand with the stoutest champion in the world Sir quoth she these protestations are now bootlesse and therefore to bee briefe thus and with that the teares trickled downe the vermilion of her chéeks and she blubbred out this passion O Francesco thou maist sée by my attire the depth of my fancie and in these homely roabes maist thou noate the rechlesnesse of my fortunes that for thy loue haue straind a note too high in loue I offend nature as repugnant to my father whose displeasure I haue purchast to please thée I haue giuen a finall farewell to my friends to be thy familiar I haue lost all hope of preferment to confirme the simpathie of both our desires Ah Francesco see I come thus poore in apparell to make thâ—e rich in content Now if hereafter oh let me sigh at that least I be forced to repent too late when thy eye is glutted with my beautie and thy hotte loue prooued soone tolde thou beginst to hate hir that thus loueth thee and pâ—oue as Demophon did to Phillis or as Aeneas did to Dido what then maye I doo reiected but accurse miâ—e â—wne folly that hath brought mee to such hard fortunes Giue me leaue Francesco to feare what may fall for men are as inconstant in performance as cunning in practises She could not fully discourse what she was â—boâ—t to vtter but he broke off with this protestation Ah Isabel although the windes of Lepanthos are euer inconstant the Chrisâ—â—oll euer brittle the Polype euer changeable yet measure not my minde by others motions nor the depth of my affection by the fléeting of others fancies for as there is a Topace that will yéeld to euerie stamp so there is an Emerald that will yéeld to no impression The selfe same Troy as it had an Aeneas that was fickle so it had a Troylus thâ—t was constant Greece had a Piramus as it had a Demophon and though some haue béen ingrateful yet accuse not al to be vnthankful for when Francesco shall let his eye slip froÌ„ thy beautie or his thoughts from thy qualities or his heart from thy vertues or his whole selfe from euer honouring thée then shal heauen cease to haue starres the earth trées the world Clements and euerie thing reuersed shall fall to their former Chaos Why then quoth Isabel to horsâ—backe for feare the faith of two such Louers be impeached by my fathers wakefull iealouzie And with that poore woman halfe naked as she was she mounted and as fast as horse would pace away they post towards a towne in the said Countrey of Britaine called Dunecastrum Where let vs leaue them in their false gallop and returne to old Fregoso who rising early in the morning and missing his Daughter asked for her through the whole house but séeing none could discouer where she was as aâ—sured of her escape he cried out as a man halfe Lunaticke that he was by Francesco robde of his onely iewell Whereupon in a despayring furie he caused all his men and his tenaunts to mount them and to disperse themselues euerie one with hue and crie for the recouerie of his daughter he himself being horst and riding
the readie way to Dunecastrum Where hee no sooner came but fortune meaning to dally with the olde doteard and to present him a boane to gnaw on brought it so to passe that as he came riding downe the towne he met Francesco and his daughter comming from the Church which although it piercte him to the quicke and strainde euerie sâ—ring of his heart to the highest noate of sorrow yet he concealed it till he tooke his Inne and then stumbling as fast as he could to the Mayors houle of the towne he reuealed vnto him the whole cause of his distresse requiring his fauour for the clapping vp of this vnruly Gentleman and to make the matter the more hamous hee accused him of felonie that he had not onely contrarie to the custome bereft him of his daughter against his wil but with his daughter had taken away certaine plaâ—e This euidence caused the Mayor straight garded with his Officers to march downe with Fregoso to the place where Isabel and her Francesco were at breakfast little thinking poore soules such a sharp storme should follow so quiet a calme but fortune would haue it so And therefore as they were carrowsing each to other in a swéete frolicke of hoped for content the Mayor rusht in and apprehended him of felonie which draue the poore perplexed louers into such a dumpe that they sâ—ood as the pictures that Perseus with his shield turnde into stones Francesco presently with a sharpe insight entred into the cause and perceiued it was the drift of the olde foxe his father in lawe wherefore he tooke it with the more patience But Isabel séeing her new husband so handled fell in a swownd for sorrow which could not preuaile with the Serieants but they conueyed him to prison and her to the Mayors house As soone as this was done Fregoso as a man carelesse what should become of them in a straunge Countrey tooke horse and rode home hee past melancholy and these remained sorrowfull especially Isabel who after shee had almost blubbred out her eyes for griefe fell at length into this passion Infortunate Isabel and therefore infortunate because thy sorrowes are more than thy yeares and thy distresse too heauie for the prime of thy youth Are the heauens so vniust the starres so dismal the planets so iniurious that they haue more contrarie oppositions than fauourable aspects that their influence doth infuse more preiudice than they caÌ„ inferre profite Then no doubt if their motions be so maligne Saturne conspiring with all his balefull signes calculated the hower of thy birth full of disaster accidents Ah Isabel thou maist sée the birds that are hatched in Winter are nipt with euerie storme such as flie against the Sunne are either scorched or blinded those that repugne again nature are euer crost by fortune Thy father foresaw these euills and warned thée by experience thou reiectedst his counsaile and therefore art bitten with repentaunce such as looke not before they leape ofte fall into the ditch and they that scorne their parents cannot auoyd punishment The yong Tygers followe the braying of their olde sire the tender Fawnes choose their foode by the olde Bucke These brute beasts and without reason stray not from the limits of nature thou a woman and endued with reason art therefore thus sorrowfull because thou hast been vnnaturall Whether now Isabel What like the shrubbes of India parched with euerie storme Wilt thou resemble the brookes of Caruia that drie vp with euerie Sunne-shine Shall one blast of Fortune blemish all thy affection one frown of thy father infringe thy loue toward thy husband Wilt thou bee so inconstant at the first that hast promised to bee loyal euer If thou béest daunted on thy marriage day thou wilt be fléeting hereafter Didst thou not choose him for his vertues and now wilt thou refuse him for hiâ— hard fortunes Is hee not thy husband yes and therefore more déere to thée than is thy Father I Isabel and vpon that resolue least hauing so faithfull a Troilus thou prooue as hatefull a Cressyda sorrowe Isabel but not that thou hast followed Francesco but that Francesco by thée is fallen into such misfortunes séeke to mitigate his maladies by thy patience not to incense his griefe with thy passions courage is knowen in extremities womanhood iâ— distresse and as the Chrisolite is prooued in the fire the diamond by the anuill so loue is tried not by the fauour of Fortune but by the aduersitie of Time Therefore Isabel Feras non culpes quòd vitari non poâ—es and with Tully resolue thus Puto rerum humanarum nihil esse firmum Ita nee in prosperis laâ—itia gostâ—s nec in aduersis dolore concides With this she held heâ— peace and rested silent so behauing her selfe in the Mayors house with such modestie and patience that as they held her for a paragon of beautie so they counted heâ— for a spectacle of vertue thinking her outward proportion was farre inferiour to her inward perfection so that generally she wan the hearts of the whole house in that they pitied her case and wished her libertie Insomuch that Francesco was the better vsed for hir sake who being imprisoned gréeued not at his owne sinister mishap but sorowed for the fortune of Isabel passing both day and night with manie extreame passions to thinke on the distresse of his beloued paramour Fortune who had wrought this tragedie intending to shewe that her frunt is as full of fauours as of frownâ—s and that shee holdes a dimple in her chéeke as she hath a 〈◊〉 in her brow began thus in a Comicall vaine to bee pleasant After manie daies were passed and that the Mayor had eâ—â—red into the good demenor oâ— them bâ—th noting that it procéeded rather of â—he â—ispleasure of her father than for anie special â—â—sart of felonie seeing youth would haue his swinge and that as the mineralls of Aetna stooue fire as the leaues in Parthia burne with the Sunne so yong yeares are incident to the heate of loue and affection will burst into such amorous parties He not as Chremes in Terâ—nce measuring the flames of youth by his dead cinders but thinking of their present fortunes by the follies of his former age called a Conuenticle of his Brethren and séeing ther was none to giue any further euidence thought to let Francesco lose Hauing their frâ—e consent the next day 〈◊〉 Isabel with him hee went to the Iayle where they heard such rare 〈◊〉 of the behauiour of Francesco that they sorrowed not so much at his fortunes as â—hey wondred at his â—ertues for the Iayler discourst vnto them how as he was greatly passionate so he vsed great patience hauing this vâ—â—s oft in his mouth Fortiter ille fâ—cit â—qâ—i miser esse poâ—est That he was affable and courteous winning al and offending none that all his house as they greeuâ—d at his imprisonment would be sorâ—ie at his enlargement not for enuie of his person but for sorrowe
they excéede in yeres excell in vertues but thou Francesco are like to the Halciones which being hatcht white as milke grow to be as blacke as Ieat the yong storkes haue a musical voyce â—ut the old a fearfull sound When thou wert of small age men honored thée for thy qualities now in yeares shall they hate thée for thy vices But to what ende tendes this large preamble to checke thy fondnesse that must leaue to loue and learne to lust What leaue to loue Isabel whose beautie is deuine whose vertues rare whose chastitie loyall whose constancie vntainted And for whom for the loue of some vnknowen Curtizan Consider this Francesco Isabel for thy sake hath left her parents forsaken her friends reiected the world and was content rather to brook pouertie with thée than possesse wealth with her father Is shee not faire to content thine eye vertuous to allure thy minde nay is she not thy wife to whom thou art bound by lawe loue and conscience and yet wilt thou start from her what froÌ„ Isabel Didst thou not vowe that the heauens should be without lampes the earth without â—easâ—s the world without Elements before Isabel should be forsaken of her Francesco And wilt thou prooue as fâ—lse as she is faithfull Shall she like Dido crie out against Aeneas like Phillis against Demophon like Ariadne against Theseus and thou be canonized in the Chronicles for a man full of periurie Oh consider Francesco whome thou shalt lose if thou losest Isabel and what thou shalt gaine if thou winnest Infida the one being a louing wife the other a flattring Courtisan Hast thou read Aristotle and findest thou not in his Philosophie this sentence set downe Omne animal irrationale ad sui similem diligendum natura dirigitur And wilt thou that art a creature indued with reason as thou art excelling them in wisedome excéede them in vanities Hast thou turnd ouer the liberall sciences as a scholer and amongst them all hast not found this general principle that vnitie is the essence of amitie and yet wilt thou make a diuision in the greatest simpathie of all loues Nay Francesco art thou a Christian and hast tasted of the swéâ—t fruites of Theologie and hast not read this in holy writâ— pend downe by that miracle of wisedome Salomon thâ—â— he which is wise should reiect the strange woman and not regard not the swâ—etnesse of hir flâ—ttrie Desire not the beautie of a strange woman in thy heart nor be not intrapped in her eye liddes For through a whorish woman a mâ—n is brought to a morsell of bread and a woman will hunt for the precious life of a man Can a man take fire in his bosome not be burnt Or can a man tread vpon coales and not be scorched So he that goeth to his neighbors wife shall not be innocent whosoeuer toucheth her Men do not despise a theefe when hee stealeth to satisfie his soule but if he be found he shall restore seuen folde or giue all the substaunce of his house But he that committeth adultrie with a woman he is destitute of vnderstanding hee that dooth it destroyeth his owne soule He shall finde a wound and dishooour and his reproach shall neuer be put away If then Francesco Theologie tells thée such axiomes wilt thou striue against the streame and with the déere féede against the winde Wilt thou swallow vp sinne with gréedines that thou maist be punished without repentance No Francesco home to the wife of thy youth and drinke the pleasaunt waters of thine owne well And what of all these friuolous circumstances Wilt thou measure euerie action with philosophie or euerie thought with Diuinitie Then shalt thou liue in the world as a man hated in the world What Francesco hee that is afraid of euerie bush shal neuer proue good huntsman and he that at euerie guâ—t puts to the Lee shall neuer be good Nauigator Thou art now Francesco to be a Louer not a Diuine to measure thy affections by Ouids principles not by rules of Theologie and time present wills thee to loue Infida when thou canst not looke on Isabel distance of place is a discharge of dâ—â—iâ— and men haue their falts as they are ful of fancies What the blind â—ates manie a flie and much water runnes by the mill that the Miller neuer knowes of the euill that the eye sâ—es not the heart rues not Castè si non cautè Tush Francesco Isabel hath not Lynceus eyes to sée so farre Therfore while thou art resident in LoÌ„don enioy the beautie of Infida and when thou art at home onely content thée with Isabel so with a small fault shalt thou fully satisfie thine own affection Thus Francesco soothed himselfe and did In vtramâ—is aurem dormire caring little for his good as long as he might please his newe Goddesse and making no exception of a wife so he might bee accepted of his paramour To effect therfore the desired end of his affects he made himselfe as neate and quaint as might be and hied him to his newe Mistresse house to put in practise that which himselfe had purposed whether in the afternoone ariuing he vnderstood by her chamber maide that she was at home and solitarie by her therefore hee was conducted to Infidas closet wher he found her séeming melancholy and thus awaked her from her dumpes Fair Mistres haile to your person quiet to your thoghts and content to your desires At my first comming into your chaÌ„ber séeing you sit so melancholy I thought either Diana sate musing on the principles of her modestie or Venus malecontent dumping on her amours for the shewe of your vertues represents the one the excellence of your beauties discouers the other but at last when the glister of your beautie surpassing theÌ„ both reflected like the pride of Phoebus on my face I perceiued it was my good Mistres that discontented sate in her dumpes wherefore as your bounden seruant if either my word or sword may frée you from these passions I am here readie in all actions howsoeuer preiudiciall to shew the effect of my affection Infida glad to sée her Louer in this Laborinth wherein to binde him sure she taking him by the hand made this wilie aunswere Swéete seruant how discontent soeuer I séeme dismay not you for your welcome is such as you can wish or the sinceritie of my heart afford wâ—mens dumps growe not euer of a preiudicial mishap but oftimes of some superficiall melancholy inforced with a frowne and shaken off with a smile hauing sorrow in their faces and pleasure in their heart resembling the leaues of the liquorice that when they are most full of dâ—aw without are then most dry within I tell you seruant women are wily cattle therefore haue I chosen so gâ—â—d a heardsman as your selfe that what our wantonnes offends your wisedome may amend But trust me Francesco were I wronged by Fortune or iniured by â—nie foe the promise of such a
in that shee wanted â—â—e presence of her Francesco yet for her patience and vertuâ— grew so famous that all Caerbranck talked of her peâ—fections her beautie was admired of euerie eye bee â—â—â—lities applauded in euerie mans eare that she was estéemed for a patterne of vertuous excellence throughout the whole Citie Amongst the rest that censured of her curious fauours there was one Signor Bernardo â— Bourgomaster of the Citie who chauncing on a time to passe by the â—â—â—re where Isabel so iourned seeing so sweete a Saint began to faâ—l enamoured of so faire an obiect and although he was olde yet the fire of lust crept into his eyes and so inflamed his heart that with a disordinate desire he began to affect her but the renowme of her chastitie was such that it almost quatted those sparkes that heated him on to such lawlesse affection But yet when he calde to minde that want was a great stumbling blocke and sawe the necessitie that Isabel was in by the absence of Francesco he thought gold would bee a readie meanes to gaine a womans good willâ— and therefore dispayred not of obtaining his purpose After that this Signor Bernardo had well noted the exquisite perfection of hâ—r bodie and how she was adorned with most speciall gifts of nature he was so snared with the â—etters of lasciuious Concupiscence as reason could not redresse what lust had ingrafted his aged yeares yéelded vnto danitie so that he turned away his minde from God and durst not lift vp his eyes vnto heauen least it shoulâ— be a witnesse of his wickednesse or a corasiue to his guiltie conscience for the remembrance of God is a terrour to the vnrighteous and the sight of his creatures is a sting to the minde of the â—â—probate He therefore feeling his diuellish heart to bâ—e â—â—rplexed with such hellish passions careleâ—â—â—â— cast off the 〈◊〉 of God from before his eyes neither remembrâ—â—◠〈…〉 was an Elder to giue good counsaile â—or a Iudge in thâ—â—â—tie to minister right his hoarie haires could not haâ—e him from sinne nor his calling conuert him from filthinesse but he gréedilie drunke vp the dregges 〈…〉 carefullie â—usâ—ed his braines to oppresse 〈…〉 obtaine his purpose 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉 thus Being 〈…〉 Bourgomaster in all the citie he determined to make a priuie search for some suspected person and being master of the watch himselfe to goe vp into her chamber and there to discouer the depth of his desire so he thought to ioyne loue and opportunitie in one vnion and with his office and his age to wipe out all suspition Age is a crowne of glorie when it is adorned with righteousnesse but the dregges of dishonor when t is mingled with mischiefe for honourable age consisteth not in the tearme of yeares nor is not measured by the date of a mans daies but godlie wisedome is the gray haire and an vndefâ—led life is â—lde age The Herbe grace the older it is the ranker smell it hath the Sea starre is most blacke being olde the Eagle the more yeares the more crooked is her bill and the greater age in wicked men the more vnrighteousnesse which this Signor Bernardo tried true for desire made him hate delap and therefore within two or three nights picking out a watch answerable to his wish hee himselfe as if it had béen some matter of great import went abroade and to colour his follie with the better shadowe hee searched diuers houses and at last came to the place where Isabel lay charging the host to rise and to shewe him her chamber for quoth he I must conferre with her of most secret affaires The good man of the house obeyed willinglie as one that held Bernardo in great reuerence and brought him and the match to the chamber doore Bernardo taking a â—andle in his hand â—ad them all depart till he had â—alked with the Gentlewoman which they did and he entring in shutting the doore found her fast on sleepe which fight â—raue the olde Lecher into a 〈◊〉 for there seeinâ— nature in her pride lust 〈◊〉 him yâ— more that he sat on â—he bed side a great while viewing of her beautie at last starting vp he awakâ— her out of a swâ—ete â—â—umbeâ—â— Isabel looking vp and seeing one of the Bourgomasters in the chamber for Bernardo was knowne for his grauitâ—â— and wealth of euery one in the Citie she was amazedâ— yet gathering her wits together raysing herselfe vp on her pillowe although he knewe she 〈◊〉 rightly refell hiâ— follie and â—aâ—â—ly perceiued her câ—â—â—sâ—ile cooled the extreame of his desires yet the feare of God was so farre from him that he prosecuted his intent thus Signor Bernardos answer to Isabels replie WHy Isabel quoth he thinkest thou thy painted spâ—â—â—ches or thy hard dâ—nialls shall preuâ—ilâ— against 〈◊〉 pretended purpose No he is a coward that yâ—eldeth at the first shot and hâ— noâ— wâ—â—thie to weare the bud of beautie that is daunted with the 〈◊〉 repulse I haue the trâ—e in my hand and meane to enioy the fruite I haue heâ—ten the bush and now will not let the birds â—â—ieâ— and seeiâ—g 〈…〉 here alone your 〈…〉 shall stand for no sterlinâ—â—hat if you consent bee 〈◊〉 of a most trustâ—e frâ—â—ndâ— if not hope for no other hap bâ—â— open infamie For â—â—ou knowest Isabel that a womans chiefest treasure is her good 〈◊〉 that shee which hath 〈◊〉 her â—redite is hâ—lfe hanged for death cuâ—s off all miseries but 〈◊〉 is yâ— beginning of all sorrowes Sith then infamie iâ— worse than losse of life assure thy selâ—e I will 〈◊〉 thee to the quicke for I will presentlie send thee to prison and cause some Râ—ffiâ—n in the citie to sweare â—hat stars yâ— absence of thy 〈…〉 Francâ—sâ—â— â— he hath 〈…〉 so shall 〈…〉 punishmâ—nt and make 〈◊〉 laughing stocke to the world odious to thy friends aâ—d to liue hated of thy husband mine 〈◊〉 and auâ—horâ—tie my agâ— and 〈…〉 my prâ—tenâ—e 〈…〉 thâ—n â—aiâ—e Isâ—bel 〈…〉 of thy 〈…〉 thy selfe a wiâ—e woman 〈…〉 â—â—â—â—bel hearing the misâ—hieuous 〈…〉 Leâ—hâ—r and seâ—ing he had 〈…〉 she coulâ— not auoid 〈…〉 of the bodie or the destruction of the soule was so driuen into such a passionate dilemma that she burst foorth into teares sighes and plaints which she blubbred foorth on this wise Alas quoth she most vile and vniust wretch is the feare of God so farre from thy minde that thou seekest not only to sacke mine honour but to sucke my bloud Is it not iniurie enough that thou seekest to spoyle mine honestie but that you long to spill my life Hath thy swéete loue pretended such bitter tast Is this the fruite of your fained fancie No doubt the cause must bee pernicious when the effect is so pestilent Flatter not yourselfe in this thy follie nor sooth not thy thoughts in thy sinnes for there is a God that seeth and will reuenge and hath promised that who bindeth two 〈◊〉 together shall not be vnpunished in the one But what
loueâ—â—earing that of all the Cities in Europe Venice hath most semblance of Venus vanities I goe thether not onely to see fashions but to quip at folâ—â—es that I may drawe others from that harme that hath brought me to this hazard The Gentlewomen of Venice your neighbours but vnknown to me haue more fauours in their faces than vertue in their thoughts and their beauties are more curious than their qualities be precious caring more to be figured out with Helen than to bée famozed with Lucrece they striue to make their faces gorgeous but neuer seeke to fit their minds to their God and couet to haue more knowledge in loue than in religion their eyes bewray their wantonnesse not their modestie their lookes are lures that reclaime not Hawkes but make them onely bate at dead stales As the Gentlewomen so are the men loose liuers and straight louers such as hold their conscience in their purses and their thoughts in their eyes couÌ„ting that houre ill spent that in fancie is not mispent Because therefore this great Citie of Venice is holden Loues Paradize thether doo I direct my pilgrimage that seeing their passions I may being a palmer win them to penance by shewing the miseries that Venus miâ—eth with her momentarie contents if not yet I shall carrie home to my countrimen salues to cure their sores I shal see much heare little and by the insight into other mens extreames returne both the more warie and the more wise What I see at Venice sir and what I note there when I returne back I meane to visite you and make you priuie to all The héedfull Host hauing iudiciallie vnderstoode the pitifull report of the palmer giuing truce to his passions with the teares he spent and resolued to requite that thankfullie which he had attended heedfullie gaue this Catastrophe to his sad and sorrowfull discourse Palmer thou hast with the Kitrell foreshewed the storme ere it comes painting out the shapes of loue as liuely as the Grapes in Zeuxis Tables were pourtraied cunningly thou hast lent youth Egle eyes to behold the Sunne Achilles sword to cut and recure leauing those medicines to salue others that hath lost thy selfe and hauing burnt â—hy wings with tâ—e 〈…〉 dallying too long with thâ—â—â—reâ— thou hast bequeatheâ— otherâ— a lesson with the Unicorne to preuent poyson by preserues before thou tast with the lippe The onely request I make in requitâ—ll of my attention is that thou leaue certaine testimonies on these walles whereâ—n whensoeuer I looke I shall remember Francescos follies and thy foresight The Palmer estéeming the courteous replie of his hosâ— and desirous to satisfie his request drawing bloud from the vaine Cephalia on an arch of white Iuorie erected at the ende of an Arbour adorned with Honysuckles and Roses he wrote thus with a pencell In greener yeares when as my greedie thoughts Gan yeeld their homage to ambitious will My feeble wit that then preuailed noughts Perforcâ— presented homage to his ill And I in follies bonds fulfild with crime At last vnloosd thus spide my losse of time As in his circuler and ceaseles ray The yeare begins and in it selfe retuâ—nes Refresht by presence of the eye of day That sometimes niâ— and sometimes farre soiournes So loue in me conspiring my decay With endles fire my heedles bosome burnes And from the end of my aspiring sinne My paths of error hourely doth begin Aries When in the Ram the Sunne renewes his beames Beholding mournfull earth araid in griefe That waighâ—â—eliefe from his refreshing gleames The tender flockes râ—ioycing their reliefe Doo leape for ioy and lap the siluer streames So aâ— my prime when youth in me was chiefe All Heifer like with wanton horne I playd And by my will my wit to loue betrayd Taurus When Phoebus with Europas bearer bides The Spring appeares impatient of delaies The labourer to the fields his plow swaynes guides He sowes he plants he builds at all assaies When prime of yeares that many errors hides By fancies force did trace vngodly waies I blindfold walkt disdayning to behold That life doth vade and yong men must be old Gemini When in the hold whereas the Twins doo rest Proud Phlaegon breathing fire doth post amaine The trees with leaues the earth with flowers is drest When I in pride of yeres with peeuish braine Presum'd too farre and made fond loue my guest Wiâ—h frosts of care my flowers were nipt amaine 〈◊〉 height of weale who beares a careles hart Râ—pents too late his ouer foolish part Cancer When in Aestiuall Cancers gloomie bower The greater glorie of the heauens dooth shine The aire is calme the birds at euerie stowre To tempt the heauens with harmonie diuine When I was â—irst inthrald in Cupids powre In vanei I spent the May-month of my timeâ— Singing for ioy to see me captiue thrall To him whose gaines are griefe whose coÌ„fort smal Leo. When in the height of his Meridian walke The Lions holde conteines the eye of day The riping corne growes yeolow in the stalke When strength of yeares did blesse me euerie way Maskt with delights of follie was my talke Youth ripened all my thoughts to my decay In lust I sowde my frute was losse of time My hopes were proud and yet my bodie slime Virgo When in the Virgins lap earths comfort sleepes Bating the furiâ— of his burning eyes Both corne and frutes are firmd coÌ„fort creepes On euerie plant and flowre that springing rise When age at last his chiefe dominion keepes And leades me on to see my vanities What loue and scant foresight did make me sowâ— In youthfull yeares is ripened now in woe Libra When in the Ballance Daphnes Lemman blins The Ploughman gathereth frute for passed paine When I at last considered on my sinnes And thought vpon my youth and follies vaine I cast my count and reason now begins To guide mine eyes with iudgement bought with paine Which weeping wish a better way to finde Or els for euer to the world be blinde Scorpio When with the Scorpion proud Apollo plaiesâ— The wines are trode and carried to their presse The woods are fâ—ld gainst winters sharp affraies When grauer yeares my iudgements did addresse I gan repaire my ruines and decaies Exchanging will to wit and soothfastnesse Claiming from Time and Age no good but this To see my sinne and sorrow for my misse Sagittarius When as the Archer in his Winter holde The Delian Harper tunes his wonted loue The ploughman sowes and tills his labored molde When with aduise and iudgement I approue How Loue in youth hath griefe for gladnes solde The seedes of shame I from my heart remooue And in their steads I set downe plants of Grace And with repent bewailde my youthfull race Capricornus When he that in Eurotas siluer glide Doth baine his tresse beholdeth Capricorne The daies growes short then hasts the winter tide The Sun with sparing lights doth seem to mourn Gray is the green the flowers their beautie hides When as I see that I to death was borne My strength decaide my graue alreadie drest I count my life my losse my death my best Aquarius When with Aquarius Phoebes brother staies The blythe and wanton windes are whist still Colde frost and snow the pride of earth betraies When age my head with hoarie haires doth fill Reason sits downe and bids mee count my dayes And pray for peace and blame my froward will In depth of griefe in this distresse I crie Peccaui Domine miserere mei Pisces When in the Fishes mansion Phoebus dwells The dayes renew the earth regaines his rest When olde in yeares my want my death foretells My thoghts praiers to heaueÌ„ are whole addrest Repentance youth by follie quite expells I long to be dissolued for my best That yong in zeale long beaten wiâ—h my rod I may grow old to wisedome to God The palmer had no sooner finished his circle but the Host ouer read his conceipt and wondering at the excellencie of his wit from his experience began to suck much wisedome beeing verie loath to detaine his guest too long after they had broken their fast and the goodman of the â—ouse courteouslie had giuen him thankes for his fauor the Palmer set forward towards Venice what there he did or howe hee liued when I am aduertised good Gentlemen I will send you tidings Meane while let euerie one learne by Francescoes fall to beware least at last too late they be enforced to bewaile FINIS
hâ—r seruant than to the greatest prince of the world Francesco though he was a nouice in these affaires and was nipped on the head with this sharp repulse yet he was not so to take the showre for the first storme nor so ill a woodman to gâ—ue ouer the chace at yâ— first default but that he prosecuted his purpose thus I am sory faire goddesse of my deuotion if my presumption hath giueÌ„ any offence to my sweet mistresse for rather than I should but procure a frown in hir forhead I would haue a déâ—p wound in my own hart coueting rather to suppres my passions with death than to disparage my credite with so gâ—â—d a patronesse Therfore although my destinies be extreame my affection great and my loues such as can take no end but in your fauours yet I rest vpon this Infida hath commaâ—ded me to cease and I will not dare so much as to prosecute my sute although euerie passion should be a purgatorie and euery dayes deâ—iâ—ll a moneths punishment in hell with that he set downe his period with such a sigh that as the Marriners say a man would haue thought all would haue split againe This cunning Curtizan beeing afraid with this checke to haue quatted the quâ—â—zie stomacke of her louer deâ—irous to draw to her that with both hands which she had thrust away with her little finger began to be pleasant with Francisco thus What seruâ—nt are you such a fresh water souldier that you faint at the first skirmish feare not man you haue not to deale with Mars but with Venus â— and her darts of deniall as they pricke sharpe so thâ—y pierce littleâ— and her thuÌ„derbolts doo afright not preiudice Feare not man a womans heart and her tongue are not relatiues t is not euer true that what the heart thinketh the tongue clacketh Venus stormes are tempred with Rose water and when shee hath the greatest wrinkle in her â—rowe then shee hath the sweetest dimple in her chin be blithe man a faint heart neuer wonnâ— faire Ladie Francesco hearing hiâ— Mistresse thus pleasant tooke opporâ—â—nitie by the forhead and deaâ—t so with his Infida that before hee went all was well shee blusht not nor heâ— basht but both made vp their market with a faire of kiâ—ses which simpathie of affections bred the poore Gentlemans ouerthrow for he was so snared in the wily tramels of her alluring flatterie that neither the remembrance of his Isabel the care of his childe the fauor of his friendes or the feare of his discredit coulde in anie wise hale him from that hell whereinto through his owne follie he was fallen Where by the way Gentlemen let vs note the subtiltie of these Syrens that with their false harmonie perswade and then preiudice who bewitch like Calipso â— and inchaunt like Circes carying a showe as if they were Uestalls and could with Amulia carrie water in a siue when they are flat Curtizans as farre from honestie as they are from deuotion At the first they carrie a faire shew resembling Calisto who hid hir vanities with Dianas vail hauing in their lookes a coy disdaine but in their hearts a bote desire denying with the tongue and enticing wyth their lookes reiecting in wordes and alluring in gestures and such a one gentlemen was Infida who so plied Francesco with her flattering fawnes that as the yron follows the adamant the straw the Iet and the Helitropion the beames of the sunne so his actions were directed after her eie and what she saide stoode for a principle insomuch that he was not onely readie in all submisse humours to please her fancies but willing for the least worde of offence to draw his weapon against the stoutest champion in al Troynouant Thus seated in her beauty hee liued a long while forgetting his returne to Caâ—rbrancke till on a day sitting musing with himselfe he fell into a déepe consideration of his former fortunes and present follies whereupon taking his Lute in his hand he soâ—ng this Roundley Francescoes Roundeley Sitting and sighing in my secret muse As once Apollo did surprisde with loue Noting the slippery wayes young yeeres do vse What fond affects the prime of youth doth moue With bitter teares despairing I do crie Wâ— worth the faults and follies of mine eie When wanton age the blossoms of my time Drewe me to gaze vpon the gorgeous sight That beauty pompous in her highest prime Presents to tangle men with sweete delight Then with despairing tearâ—s â—y thoughts do criâ— Wâ— worth the faults and folliâ—s of 〈◊〉 â—iâ— When I sâ—râ—eid the riches of her lookes Whereout flew flâ—â—es of neuer quencht dâ—sire Wherein lay baites that Venus snares with â—ookes Oh where proud Cupid sâ—te all armde with fire Then toucht with loue my inwâ—rd soulâ— did criâ— Wâ— worth the fâ—ultes and follies of miâ—â—â—iâ— The milke-white Galaxia of her 〈◊〉 Where loue doth daunce la voltas of his skiâ—â— Like to the Temple where true louers vow To follow what shall please their Mistresse wiâ—â— Noting her iâ—orie front 〈◊〉 do I crie Wâ— worth the faulâ—s and follies of miâ—e â—iâ— Hir face like siluer Luna in hir shinâ— All tainted through with bright Vermilliâ—â— strâ—iâ—es Like lillies dipt in Bacchus choicest wine Powdred and intersâ—â—â—d with azâ—rde de vâ—ines Delighting in their pride now may I criâ—â— Wâ— worth the faults and folliâ—s of miâ—e â—iâ— The golden wyers that checkers in the dâ—y Infâ—â—â—our to the â—resses of her 〈◊〉 Hir amber traâ—ells did my heart disâ—â—y That when I lookâ—e I durst not ouer dâ—â—â— Prowd of her pride now am I fâ—rst to criâ— Wâ— worth the faults and follies of miâ—e â—iâ— These fading beauties drew me â—n to sin Natures great riches fraâ—de my bitter ruth These were the trappes that loue did snare me in Oh these and none but these haue wrackt my youth Misled by them I may dispairing crie Wo worth the faults and follies of mine eie By these I slipt from vertues holy tracke That leades vnto the highest christall sphere By these I fell to vanitie and wracke And as a man forlorne with sin and feare Despaire and sorrow doth constraine me crie Wo worth the faults and follies of mine eie Although this sonnet was of his ready inuention and that he vttered it in bitternesse of minde yet after he had past ouer his melancholy and from his solitarie was fallen into companie he forgate this patheticall impression of vertue and like the dogge did redire ad vomitum and fell to his owne vomite resembling those Gretians that with Vlysses drinking of Cyrces drugges lost both forme and memorie Wel his affaires were done his horse solde and no other businesse now rested to hinder him from hying home but his Mistresse which was such a violent deteyner of his person and thoughts that there is no heauen but Infidaes house where although hee pleasantly entred in with delight yet cowardly he slipt away with repentance Well leauing him to his new loues at
last to Isabell who daily expected the comming home of â—er best beloued Francesco thinking euery houre a yeare till she mighâ— sée him in whome rested all hâ—r coutent But wheâ— poore soule shee coulde neither â—éede her sight with his presence nor her eares with his letters she bâ—ganne to lower and grew so discontent that shee fell into a feuer Fortune that meant to â—rie hir patience thought to proâ—uâ— her with these tragicall newes It was tolde her by certaine Gentlemen her friends who were her husbands priuate familiars that he meant to soiorne most part of the yeere in Troynouant one blunt fellowe amongest the rest that was playne and wythout falshâ—â—de tolde her the whole cause of his residence howe â—ee was in loue wyth a mâ—st beautifull Gentlewoman called Infida and that so deepely that no perswasion might reuoke him from that alluring curtizan At this Isabell made no accompt but tooke it as a friuolous tale and thought the woorse of such as buzzed such fantasticall follies into hâ—r eares but when the generall report of his misâ—emeanours were bruted abroad throughout all Caerbrancke then with blushing chéekes she hid her head greâ—uing at his follies and her owne fortunes smothered the flames of her sorrows with inward conceit but outwardly withsâ—â—â—d such in satyricall tearmes as did inueigh against the honeâ—â—ie of Francesco so that she wonne great commendations of all for her loyaltie and constancie yet when she was gotten secret by hir selfe hir heart full of sorrowfull passions and her eies full of teares she beganne to meditate with her selfe of the prime of her youth vowed to Francesco how she forsâ—â—ke father friâ—ndes and Countrey to bee paramour vnto her hearts paragon The vowes hee made when he carried her away in the night the solempne promises and protestations that were vttered When shee had pondred all these things then she called to minde Aeneas Demophon and Theseus and matcht them with Dido Phillis and Ariadne and at last sighed thus And shal it be so betwéene Isabel and Francesco No thinke nâ—t so fond woman let not ielousie blinde thee whome loue hath indneâ— with such a piâ—rcing insight for as there is no content to the swéetenesse of loue so there is no despaire to the preiudice of Ielousie whereupon to shake off all fancies she â—ooke her Citterâ— in her hand and soong this verse out of Ariosto Che piu felice é pui iâ—condo stato Che viuer pui dolce é pui beato Sarui di seruire vno amoroso cuore Che d'esser in seruitu d'amore Se non fusse huomo semprâ— stimulato Da quella rio timore da quella frenezia Da quella rabbia della iâ—lozia Yet as women are constant so they are easie to beléeue especially trueth and so it fell out with Isabell for shee poore soule could take no rest so was her haâ—d troubled with these â—â—wes hammering a thousand humours in her braine how she might know the certaintie of his follies and how she might reclaime him for his newe intertained affection She considered with herself that men allure Doues by the beauty of the house and reclaime hawkes by the fairnesse of the lure and that loue ioyned with vertue were able to recall the most stragling Aâ—neas to make sayles againe to Carthage Tush quoth she to her selfe suppose he be falne in Loue with a curtizan and that beautie hath giuen him the braue what shall I vtterly condempne him No as he was not the first so he shall not be the last what youth will haue his swindge the briar will bee full of prickles the nettle will haue his sting and youth his amours men must loue and will loue though it be both against lâ—w and reason a crooked sien will proue a straight trâ—e the Iuniper is sower when it is a twigge and swéete when it is a trée time changeth manners and Francesco when hee entreth into the conditions of a â—â—attring Curtizan will forsake her and returne penitent and more louing to his Isabel Thus like a good wife she constâ—â—â—â— all to the best yet she thoughâ— to put him in minde of his returne and therefore she writ him a letter to this effect Isabel to Francesco health IF Penelope longâ—â— for her Vlysses thinke Isabel â—â—sheth for her Francesco as loyall to thée as she was constant to the wily Greeke and no lesse desirous to sâ—â— thée in Caerbranck than she to enioy his presence in Iâ—â—â—ca watering my chéeckes with as manie teares as she her face with plaints yet my Francesco hoping I haue no such cause 〈◊〉 she to increase hir cares for I haue such resolution in thy constancie that no Circes with all her inchantments no Calipso with all her sorceries no Syren with all their melodies could peruert thée from thinking on thine Isabel I know Francesco so déeply hath the faithful promise and loyall vowes made interchanged betwéen vs taken place in thy thoughtes that no time how long soeuer no diâ—â—ance of place howsoeuer different may alter that impression But why 〈◊〉 I inferre this néedlesse insinuation to him that no vanitie can alienate from vertue let me Francesco perswâ—de thâ—â— with other circumstances First my 〈◊〉 thinke how thine Isabel lies alone measuring the time with sighes thine absence with passions counting the day â—ismall and the night full of sorrowes being euerie way discontent because shee is not content with her Francesco The onely comfort that I haue in thine absence is thy child who lies on his mothers knee and smiles as wantoÌ„ly as his father when he was a wooer But when the boy sayes Mam where is my dad when will hee come home Then the calme of my content turneth to a present storme of piercing sorrowe that I am forced sometime to say Unkinde Francesco that forgets his Isabell. I hope Francesco it is thine affaires not my faults that procureth this long delay For if I knewe my follies did any way offend thée to rest thus long absent I woulde punish my selfe both with outward and inward penaunce But howsoeuer I pray for thy health and thy speedie returne and so Francesco farewell Thine more than her owne Isabell. SHe hauing thus finished her letters conâ—cied them speedelie to Troynouant where they were deliuered to Francesco who receiuing them with a blush went into his study and there vâ—ript the seales with a sigh perceiuing by the contents that Isabell had an inckling of his vnkinde loues which driue him into a great quandarie that deepely entring into the insight of his lasciuious life hee beganne to feele a remorce in his conscience howe grieuously hee hath offended hir that had so faithfullie loued him Oh quoth hee shall I be so ingrate as to quittance affection with fraud So vnkinde as to weigh downe loue with discourtesie to giue her a wéede that presents me a flower and to beate her with nettles that perfumes me with roses consider with thy selfe Francesco how deeply thou