The Affectionate Shepheard Containing the Complaint of Daphnis for the loue of Ganymede Amor plus mellis quam fellis est LONDON Printed by Iohn Danter for T. G. and E. N. and are to bee sold in Saint Dunstones Church-yeard in Fleetstreet 1594. To the Right Excellent and most beautifull Lady the Ladie PENELOPE RITCH FAyre louely Ladie vvhose Angelique eyes Are Uestall Candles of sweet Beauties Treasure Whose speech is able to inchaunt the wise Conuerting Ioy to Paine and Paine to Pleasure Accept this simple Toy of my Soules Dutie Which I present vnto thy matchles Beautie And albeit the gift be all too meane Too meane an Offring for thine Iuorie Shrine Yet must thy Beautie my iust blame susteane Since it is mortall but thy selfe diuine Then Noble Ladie take in gentle vvorth This new-borne Babe which here my Muse brings forth Your Honours most affectionate and perpetually deuoted Shepheard DAPHNIS The Teares of an affectionate Shepheard sicke for Loue. OR The Complaint of Daphnis for the Loue of Ganimede SCarce had the morning Starre hid from the light Heauens crimson Canopie with stars bespangled But I began to rue th' vnhappy sight Of that faire Boy that had my hart intangled Cursing the Time the Place the sense the sin I came I saw I viewd I slipped in If it be sinne to loue a sweet-fac'd Boy Whoseamber locks trust vp in golden tramels Dangle adowne his louely cheekes with ioy When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels If it be sinne to loue a louely Lad Oh then sinne I for whom my soule is sad His Iuory-white and Alablaster skin Is staind throughout with rare Vermillion red Whose twinckling starrie lights doe neuer blin To shine on louely Uenus Beauties bed But as the Lillie and the blushing Rose So white and red on him in order growes Vpon a time the Nymphs bestird them-selues To trie who could his beautie soonest win But he accounted them but all as Elues Except it were the saire Queene Guendolen Her he embrac'd of her was beloued With plaints he proued and with teares he moued But her an Old-Man had beene sutor too That in his age began to doate againe Her would he often pray and often woo When through old-age enfeebled was his Braine But she before had lou'd a lustie youth That now was dead the cause of all her ruth And thus it hapned Death and Cupid met Vpon a time at swilling Bacchus house Where daintie cates vpon the Boord were set And Goblets full of wine to drinke carouse Where Loue and Death did loue the licor so That out they fall and to the fray they goe And hauing both their Quiuers at their backe â—ild full of Arrows Th' one of fatall steele The other all of gold Deaths shaft was black But Loues was yellow Fortune turnd her wheele And from Deaths Quiuer fell a fatall shaft That vnder Cupid by the winde was waft And at the same time by ill hap there fell Another Arrow out of Cupids Quiuer The which was carried by the winde at will And vnder Death the amorous shaft did shiuer They being parted Loue tooke vp Deaths dart And Death tooke vp Loues Arrow for his part Thus as they wandred both about the world At last Death met with one of feeble age Wherewith he drew a shaft and at him hurld The vnknowne Arrow with a furious rage Thinking to strike him dead with Deaths blacke dart But he alas with Loue did wound his hart This was the doting foole this was the man That lou'd faire Guendolena Queene of Beautie Shee cannot shake him off doo what she can For he hath vowd to her his soules last duety Making him trim vpon the holy-daies And crownes his Loue with Garlands made of Baies Now doth he stroke his Beard and now againe He wipes the driuel from his filthy chin Now offers he a kisse but high Disdaine Will not permit her hart to pity him Her hart more hard than Adamant or steele Her hart more changeable than Fortunes wheele But leaue we him in loue vp to the eares And tell how Loue behau'd himselfe abroad Who seeing one that mourned still in teares a young-man groaning vnder Loues great Load Thinking to ease his Burden rid his paines For men haue griefe as long as life remaines Alas the while that vnawares he drue The fatall shaft that Death had dropt before By which deceit great harme did then insue Stayning his face with blood and filthy goare His face that was to Guendolen more deere Than loue of Lords or any lordly Peere This was that faire and beautifull young-man Whom Guendolena so lamented for This is that Loue whom she doth curse and ban Because she doth that dismall chaunce abhor And if it were not for his Mothers sake Euen Ganimede himselfe she would forsake Oh would shee would forsake my Ganimede Whose sugred loue is full of sweete delight Vpon whose fore-head you may plainely reade Loues Pleasure grau'd in yuorie Tables bright In whose faire eye-balls you may clearely see Base Loue still staind with foule indignitie O would to God he would but pitty mee That loue him more than any mortall wight Then he and I with loue would soone agree That now cannot abide his Sutors sight O would to God so I might haue my fee My lips were honey and thy mouth a Bee Then shouldst thou sucke my sweete and my faire flower That now is ripe and full of honey-berries Then would I leade thee to my pleasant Bower Fild full of Grapes of Mulberries and Cherries Then shouldst thou be my Waspe or else my Bee I would thy hiue and thou my honey bee I would put amber Bracelets on thy wrests Crownets of Pearle about thy naked Armes And when thou sitst at swilling Bacchus feasts My lips with charmes should saue thee from all harmes And when in sleepe thou tookst thy chiefest Pleasure Mine eyes should gaze vpon thine eye-lids Treasure And euery Morne by dawning of the day When Phoebus riseth with a blushing face Siluanus Chappel-Clarkes shall chaunt a Lay And play thee hunts-vp in thy resting place My Coote thy Chamber my bosome thy Bed Shall be appointed for thy sleepy head And when it pleaseth thee to walke abroad Abroad into the fields to take fresh ayre The Meades with Floras treasure should be strowde The mantled meaddowes and the fields so fayre And by a siluer Well with golden sands I le sit me downe and wash thine yuory hands And in the sweltring heate of summer time I would make Cabinets for thee my Loue Sweet-smelling Arbours made of Eglantine Should be thy shrine and I would be thy Doue Coole Cabinets of fresh greene Laurell boughs Should shadow vs ore-set with thicke-set Eughes Or if thou list to bathe thy naked limbs Within the Christall of a Pearle-bright brooke Paued with dainty pibbles to the brims Or cleare wherein thy selfe thy selfe mayst looke Wee le goe to Ladon whose still trickling noyse Will lull thee fast asleepe
amids thy ioyes Or if thou lt goe vnto the Riuer side To angle for the sweet fresh-water fish Arm'd with thy implements that will abide Thy rod hooke line to take a dainty dish Thy rods shall be of cane thy lines of silke Thy hooks of siluer and thy bayts of milke Or if thou lou'st to heare sweet Melodie Or pipe a Round vpon an Oaten Reede Or make thy selfe glad with some myrthfull glee Or play them Musicke whilst thy flocke doth feede To Pans owne Pype I le helpe my louely Lad Pans golden Pype which he of Syrinx had Or if thou dar'st to climbe the highest Trees For Apples Cherries Medlars Peares or Plumbs Nuts Walnuts Filbeards Chest-nuts Ceruices The hoary Peach when snowy winter comes I haue fine Orchards full of mellowed frute Which I will giue thee to obtaine my sute Not proud Alcynous himselfe can vaunt Of goodlier Orchards or of brauer Trees Than I haue planted yet thou wilt not graunt My simple sute but like the honey Bees Thou suckst the flowre till all the sweet be gone And lou'st mee for my Coyne till I haue none Leaue Guendolen sweet hart though she be faire Yet is she light not light in vertue shining But light in her behauiour to impaire Her honour in her Chastities declining Trust not her teares for they can wantonnize When teares in pearle are trickling from her eyes If thou wilt come and dwell with me at home My sheep-cote shall be strowd with new greene rushes Wee le haunt the trembling Prickets as they rome About the fields along the hauthorne bushes I haue a pie-bald Curre to hunt the Hare So we will liue with daintie forrest fare Nay more than this I haue a Garden-plot Wherein there wants nor hearbs nor roots nor flowers Flowers to smell roots to eate hearbs for the pot And dainty Shelters when the Welkin lowers Sweet-smelling Beds of Lillies and of Roses Which Rosemary banks and Lauender incloses There growes the Gilliflowre the Mynt the Dayzie Both red and white the blew-veynd-Violet The purple Hyacinth the Spyke to please thee The scarlet dyde Carnation bleeding yet The Sage the Sauery and sweet Margerum Isop Tyme Eye-bright good for the blinde dumbe The Pinke the Primrose Cowslip and Daffadilly The Hare-bell blue the crimson Cullumbine Sage Lettis Parsley and the milke-white Lilly The Rose and speckled flowre cald Sops in wine Fine pretie King-cups and the yellow Bootes That growes by Riuers and by shallow Brookes And manie thousand moe I cannot name Of hearbs and flowers that in gardens grow I haue for thee and Coneyes that be tame Yong Rabbets white as Swan and blacke as Crow Some speckled here and there with daintie spots And more I haue two mylch and milke-white Goates All these and more I le giue thee for thy loue If these and more may tycethy loue away I haue a Pidgeon-house in it a Doue Which I loue more than mortall tongue can say And last of all I le giue thee a little Lambe To play withall new weaned from her Dam. But if thou wilt not pittie my Complaint My Teares nor Vowes nor Oathes made to thy Beautie What shall I doo But languish die or saint Since thou dost scorne my Teares and my Soules Duetie And Teares contemned Vowes and Oaths must faile For where Teares cannot nothing can preuaile Compare the loue of faire Queene Guendolin With mine and thou shalt ee how she doth loue thee I loue thee for thy qualities diuine But Shee doth loue another Swaine aboue thee I loue thee for thy gifts She for hir pleasure I for thy Vertue She for Beauties treasure And alwaies I am sure it cannot last But sometime Nature will denie those dimples In steed of Beautie when thy Blossom's past Thy face will be deformed full of wrinckles Then She that lou'd thee for thy Beauties sake When Age drawes on thy loue will soone forsake But I that lou'd thee for thy gifts diuine In the December of thy Beauties waning Will still admire with ioy those louely eine That now behold me with their beauties baning Though Ianuarie will neuer come againe Yet Aprill yeres will come in showers of raine When will my May come that I may embrace thee When will the hower be of my soules ioying Why dost thou seeke in mirth still to disgrace mee Whose mirth 's my health whose griefe 's my harts annoying Thy bane my bale thy blisse my blessednes Thy ill my hell thy weale my welfare is Thus doo I honour thee that loue thee so And loue thee so that so doo honour thee Much more than anie mortall man doth know Or can discerne by Loue or Iealozie But if that thou disdainst my louing euer Oh happie I if I had loued neuer Finis Plus fellis quam mellis Amor. The second Dayes Lamentation of the Affectionate Shepheard NExt Morning when the golden Sunne was risen And new had bid good morrow to the Mountaines When Night her siluer light had lockt in prison Which gaue a glimmering on the christall Fountaines Then ended sleepe and then my cares began Eu'n with the vprising of the siluer Swan Oh glorious Sunne quoth I viewing the Sunne That lightenst euerie thing but me alone Why is my Summer season almost done My Spring-time past and Ages Autumne gone My Haruest's come and yet I reapt no corne My loue is great and yet I am forlorne Witnes these watrie eyes my sad lament Receauing cisternes of my ceafeles teares Witnes my bleeding hart my soules intent Witnes the weight distressed Daphnis beares Sweet Loue come ease me of thy burthens paine Or els I die or else my hart is slaine And thou loue-scorning Boy cruell vnkinde Oh let me once againe intreat some pittie May be thou wilt relent thy marble minde And lend thine eares vnto my dolefull Dittie Oh pittie him that pittie craues so sweetly Or else thou shalt be neuer named meekly If thou wilt loue me thou shalt be my Boy My sweet Delight the Comfort of my minde My Loue my Doue my Sollace and my Ioy But if I can no grace nor mercie finde I le goe to Caucasus to ease my smart And let a Vulture gnaw vpon my hart Yet if thou wilt but show me one kinde looke A small reward for my so great affection I le graue thy name in Beauties golden Booke And shrowd thee vnder Hellicons protection Making the Muses chaunt thy louely prayse For they delight in Shepheards lowly layes And when th' art wearie of thy keeping Sheepe Vpon a louely Downe to please thy minde I le giue thee fine ruffe-footed Doues to keepe And pretie Pidgeons of another kinde A Robbin-red-brest shall thy Minstrell bee Chirping thee sweet and pleasant Melodie Or if thou wilt goe shoote at little Birds With bow and boult the Thrustle-cocke and Sparrow Such as our Countrey hedges can afford's I haue a fine bowe and an yuorie arrow And if thou misse yet meate thou shalt lacke I le hang a bag
and bottle at thy backe Wilt thou set springes in a frostie Night To catch the long-billd Woodcocke and the Snype By the bright glimmering of the Starrie light The Partridge Phaesant or the greedie Crype I le lend thee lyme-twigs and fine sparrow calls Wherewith the Fowler silly Birds inthralls Or in a mystie morning if thou wilt Make pit-falls for the Larke and Pheldifare Thy prop and sweake shall be both ouer-guilt With Cyparissus selfe thou shalt compare For gins and wyles the Oozels to beguile Whilst thou vnder a bush shalt sit and smile Or with Hare-pypes set in a muset hole Wilt thou deceaue the deep-earth-deluing Coney Or wilt thou in a yellow Boxen bole Taste with a woodden splent the sweet lythe honey Clusters of crimson Grapes I le pull thee downe And with Vine-leaues make thee a louely Crowne Or wilt thou drinke a cup of new-made Wine Froathing at top mixt with a dish of Creame And Straw-berries or Bil-berries in their prime Bath'd in a melting Sugar-Candie streame Bunnell and Perry I haue for thee alone When Vynes are dead and all the Grapes are gone I haue a pleasant noted Nightingale That sings as sweetly as the siluer Swan Kept in a Cage of bone as white as Whale Which I with singing of Philemon wan Her shalt thou haue and all I haue beside If thou wilt be my Boy or els my Bride Then will I lay out all my Lardarie Of Cheese of Cracknells Curds and Clowted-creame Before thy male-content ill-pleasing eye But why doo I of such great follies dreame Alas he will not see my simple Coate For all my speckled Lambe nor milk-white Goate Against my Birth-day thou shalt be my guest Wee le haue Greene-cheeses and fine Silly-bubs And thou shalt be the chiefe of all my feast And I will giue thee two fine pretie Cubs With two yong Whelps to make thee sport withall A golden Racket and a Tennis-ball A guilded Nutmeg and a race of Ginger A silken Girdle and a drawn-worke Band Cuffs for thy wrists a gold Ring for thy finger And sweet Rose-water for thy Lilly-white hand A Purse of silke bespangd with spots of gold As braue a one as ere thou didst behold A paire of Kniues a greene Hat and a Feather New Gloues to put vpon thy milk-white hand I le giue thee for to keep thee from the weather With Phoenix feathers shall thy Face be fand Cooling those Cheekes that being cool'd wexe red Like Lillyes in a bed of Roses shed Why doo thy Corall Lips disdaine to kisse And sucke that Sweete which manie haue desired That Baulme my Bane that meanes would mend my misse Oh let me then with thy sweete Lips b' inspired When thy Lips touch my Lips my Lips will turne To Corall too and being cold yce will burne Why should thy sweete Loue-locke hang dangling downe Kissing thy girdle-steed with falling pride Although thy Skin be white thy haire is browne Oh let not then thy haire thy beautie hide 〈◊〉 thy Locke and sell it for gold wier The purest gold is tryde in hottest fier Faire-long-haire-wearing Absolon was kild Because he wore it in a brauerie So that which gracde his Beautie Beautie spild Making him subiect to vile slauerie In being hangd a death for him too good That sought his owne shame and his Fathers blood Againe we read of old King Priamus The haplesse syre of valiant Hector slaine That his haire was so long and odious In youth that in his age it bred his paine For if his haire had not been halfe so long His life had been and he had had no wrong For when his stately Citie was destroyd That Monument of great Antiquitie When his poore hart with griefe and sorrow cloyd Fled to his Wise last hope in miserie Pyrrhus more hard than Adamantine rockes Held him and halde him by his aged lockes These two examples by the way I show To proue th'indecencie of mens long haire Though I could tell thee of a thousand moe Let these suffice for thee my louely Faire Whos 's eye 's my starre whose smiling is my Sunne Whose loue did ende before my ioyes begunne Fond Loue is blinde and so art thou my Deare For thou seest not my Loue and great desart Blinde Loue is fond and so thou dost appeare For fond and blinde thou greeust my greeuing hart Be thou fond-blinde blinde-fond or one or all Thou art my Loue and I must be thy thrall Oh lend thine yuorie fore-head for Loues Booke Thine eyes for candles to behold the same That when dim-sighted ones therein shall looke They may discerne that proud disdainefull Dame Yet claspe that Booke and shut that Cazement light Lest th' one obscurde the other shine too bright Sell thy sweet breath to'th'daintie Musk-ball-makers Yet sell it so as thou mayst soone redeeme it Let others of thy beauty be pertakers Els none but Daphnis will so well esteeme it For what is Beauty except it be well knowne And how can it be knowne except first showne Learne of the Gentlewomen of this Age That set their Beauties to the open view Making Disdaine their Lord true Loue their Page A Custome Zeale doth hate Desert doth rue Learne to looke red anon waxe pale and wan Making a mocke of Loue ascorne of man A candle light and couer'd with a vaile Doth no man good because it giues no light So Beauty of her beauty seemes to faile When being not seene it cannot shine so bright Then show thy selfe and know thy selfe withall Lest climing high thou catch too great a fall Oh foule Eclipser of that fayre sun-shine Which is intitled Beauty in the best Making that mortall which is els diuine That staines the fayre which Women steeme not least Get thee to Hell againe from whence thou art And leaue the Center of a Womans hart Ah be not staind sweet Boy with this vilde spot Indulgence Daughter Mother of mischaunce A blemish that doth euery beauty blot That makes them loath'd but neuer doth aduaunce Her Clyents fautors friends or them that loue her And hates them most of all that most reproue her Remember Age and thou canst not be prowd For age puls downe the pride of euery man In youthfull yeares by Nature t is allowde To haue selfe-will doo Nurture what she can Nature and Nurture once together met The Soule and shape in decent order set Pride looks aloft still staring on the starres Humility looks lowly on the ground Th' one menaceth the Gods with ciuill warres The other toyles till he haue Vertue found His thoughts are humble not aspiring hye But Pride looks haughtily with scornefull eye Humillity is clad in modest weedes But Pride is braue and glorious to the show Humillity his friends with kindnes feedes But Pride his friends in neede will neuer know Supplying not their wants but them disdaining Whilst they to pitty neuer neede complayning Humillity in misery is relieu'd But Pride in neede of no man is regarded Pitty and Mercy weepe to see
wealth Striue not with mightie Men whose fortune flies With temp'rate diet nourish wholesome health Place well thy words leaue not thy frend for gold First trie then trust in ventring be not bold In Pan repose thy trust extoll his praise That neuer shall decay but euer liues Honor thy Parents to prolong thy dayes Let not thy left hand know what right hand giues From needie men turne not thy face away Though Charitie be now yclad in clay Heare Shepheards oft thereby great wisdome growes With good aduice a sober answere make Be not remoou'd with euery winde that blowes That course doo onely sinfull sinners take Thy talke will shew thy fame or els thy shame A pratling tongue doth often purchase blame Obtaine a faithfull frend that will not faile thee Thinke on thy Mothers paine in her child-bearing Make no debate least quickly thou bewaile thee Visit the sicke with comfortable chearing Pittie the prisner helpe the fatherlesse Reuenge the Widdowes wrongs in her distresse Thinke on thy graue remember still thy end Let not thy winding-sheete be staind with guilt Trust not a fained reconciled frend More than an open foe that blood hath spilt Who tutcheth pitch with pitch shal be defiled Be not with wanton companie beguiled Take not a flattring woman to thy wife A shameles creature full of wanton words Whose bad thy good whose lust will end thy life Cutting thy hart with sharpe two edged swords Cast not thy minde on her whose lookes allure But she that shines in Truth and Vertue pure Praise not thy selfe let other men commend thee Beare not a flattring tongue to glauer anie Let Parents due correction not offend thee Rob not thy neighbor seeke the loue of manie Hate not to heare good Counsell giuen thee Lay not thy money vnto Vsurie Restraine thy steps from too much libertie Fulfill not th' enuious mans malitious minde Embrace thy Wife liue not in lecherie Content thy selfe with what Fates haue assignde Be rul'd by Reason Warning dangers saue True Age is reuerend worship to thy graue Be patient in extreame Aduersitie Mans chiefest credit growes by dooing well Be not high-minded in Prosperitie Falshood abhorre no lying fable tell Giue not thy selfe to Sloth the sinke of Shame The moath of Time the enemie to Fame This leare I learned of a Bel-dame Trot When I was yong and wylde as now thou art But her good counsell I regarded not I markt it with my eares not with my hart But now I finde it too-too true my Sonne When my Age-withered Spring is almost done Behold my gray head full of siluer haires My wrinckled skin deepefurrowes in my face Cares bring Old-Age Old-Age increaseth cares My Time is come and I haue run my Race Winter hath snow'd vpon my hoarie head And with my Winter all my ioyes are dead And thou loue-hating Boy whom once I loued Farewell a thousand-thousand times farewell My Teares the Marble Stones to ruth haue moued My sad Complaints the babling Ecchoes tell And yet thou wouldst take no compassion on mee Scorning that crosse which Loue hath laid vpon mee The hardest steele with fier doth mend his misse Marble is mollifyde with drops of Raine But thou more hard than Steele or Marble is Doost scorne my Teares and my true loue disdaine Which for thy sake shall euerlasting bee Wrote in the Annalls of Eternitie By this the Night with darknes ouer-spred Had drawne the curtaines of her cole-blacke bed And Cynthia muffling her face with a clowd Lest all the world of her should be too prowd Had taken Conge of the sable Night That wanting her cannot be halfe so bright When I poore forlorne man and outcast creature Despairing of my Loue despisde of Beautie Grew male-content scorning his louely feature That had disdaind my euer-zealous dutie I hy'd me homeward by the Moone-shine light Forswearing Loue and all his fond delight FINIS The Shepheards Content OR The happines of a harmles life Written vpon Occasion of the former Subiect OF all the kindes of common Countrey life Me thinkes a Shepheards life is most Content His State is quiet Peace deuoyd of strife His thoughts are pure from all impure intent His Pleasures rate sits at an easie rent He beares no mallice in his harmles hart Malicious meaning hath in him no part He is not troubled with th' afflicted minde His cares are onely ouer silly Sheepe He is not vnto Iealozie inclinde Thrice happie Man he knowes not how to weepe Whil'st I the Treble in deepe sorrowes keepe I cannot keepe the Meane for why alas Griefes haue no meane though I for meane doo passe No Briefes nor Semi-Briefes are in my Songs Because alas my griefe is seldome short My Prick-Song's alwayes full of Largues and Longs Because I neuer can obtaine the Port Of my desires Hope is a happie Fort. Prick-song indeed because it pricks my hart And Song because sometimes I ease my smart The mightie Monarch of a royall Realme Swaying his Scepter with a Princely pompe Of his desires cannot so steare the Healme But sometime falls into a deadly dumpe When as he heares the shrilly-sounding Trumpe Of forren Enemies or home-bred Foes His minde of griefe his hart is full of woes Or when bad subiects gainst their Soueraigne Like hollow harts vnnaturally rebell How carefull is he to suppresse againe Their desperate forces and their powers to quell With loyall harts till all againe be well When being subdu'd his care is rather more To keepe them vnder than it was before Thus is he neuer full of sweete Content But either this or that his ioy debars Now Noble-men gainst Noble-men are bent Now Gentlemen and others fall at iarrs Thus is his Countrey full of ciuill warrs He still in danger sits still fearing Death For Traitors seeke to stop their Princes breath The whylst the other hath no enemie Without it be the Wolfe and cruell Fates Which no man spare when as his disagree He with his sheep-hooke knaps them on the pates Schooling his tender Lambs from wanton gates Beasts are more kinde than Men Sheepe seeke not blood But countrey caytiues kill their Countreyes good The Courtier he fawn's for his Princes fauour In hope to get a Princely ritch Reward His tongue is tipt with honey for to glauer Pride deales the Deck whilst Chance doth choose the Card Then comes another and his Game hath mard Sitting betwixt him and the morning Sun Thus Night is come before the Day is done Some Courtiers carefull of their Princes health Attend his Person with all dilligence Whose hand 's their hart whose welfare is their wealth Whose safe Protection is their sure Defence For pure affection not for hope of pence Such is the faithfull hart such is the minde Of him that is to Vertue still inclinde The skilfull Scholler and braue man at Armes First plies his Booke last fights for Countries Peace Th' one feares Obliuion th' other fresh Alarmes His paines nere ende his trauailes neuer cease His with
blind-seeing Boy How canst thou hit their harts and yet not see If thou be blinde as thou art faind to bee A Shepheard loues no ill but onely thee He hath no care but onely by thy causing Why doost thou shoot thy cruell shasts at mee Giue me some respite some short time of pausing Still my sweet Loue with bitter lucke th' art sawcing Oh if thou hast a minde to shew thy might Kill mightie Kings and not a wretched wight Yet O Enthraller of infranchizd harts At my poore hart if thou wilt needs be ayming Doo me this fauour show me both thy Darts That I may chuse the best for my harts mayming A free consent is priuiledgd from blaming Then pierce his hard hart with thy golden Arrow That thou my wrong that he may rue my sorrow But let mee feele the force of thy lead Pyle What should I doo with loue when I am old I know not how to flatter fawne or smyle Then stay thy hand O cruell Bow-man hold For if thou strik'ft me with thy dart of gold I sweare to thee by Ioues immortall curse I haue more in my hart than in my purse The more I weepe the more he bends his Brow For in my hart a golden Shaft I finde Cruell vnkinde and wilt thou leaue me so Can no remorce nor pittie moue thy minde Is Mercie in the Heauens so hard to finde Oh then it is no meruaile that on earth Of kinde Remorce there is so great a dearth How happie were a harmles Shepheards life If he had neuer knowen what Loue did meane But now fond Loue in euery place is rife Staining the purest Soule with spots vncleane Making thicke purses thin fat bodies leane Loue is a fiend a fire a heauen a hell Where pleasure paine and sad repentance dwell There are so manie Danaes now a dayes That loue for lucre paine for gaine is sold No true affection can their fancie please Except it be a Ioue to raine downe gold Into their laps which they wyde open hold If legempone comes he is receau'd When Uix haud habeo is of hope bereau'd Thus haue I showed in my Countrey vaine The sweet Content that Shepheards still inioy The mickle pleasure and the little paine That euer doth awayte the Shepheards Boy His hart is neuer troubled with annoy He is a King for he commaunds his Sheepe He knowes no woe for he doth seldome weepe He is a Courtier for he courts his Loue He is a Scholler for he sings sweet Ditties He is a Souldier for he wounds doth proue He is the same of Townes the shame of Citties He scornes false Fortune but true Vertue pitties He is a Gentleman because his nature Is kinde and affable to euerie Creature Who would not then a simple Shepheard bee Rather than be a mightie Monarch made Since he inioyes such perfect libertie As neuer can decay nor neuer fade He seldome sits in dolefull Cypresse shade But liues in hope in ioy in peace in blisse Ioying all ioy with this content of his But now good-fortune lands my little Boate Vpon the shoare of his desired rest Now must I leaue awhile my rurall noate To thinke on him whom my soule loueth best He that can make the most vnhappie blest In whose sweete lap I le lay me downe to sleepe And neuer wake till Marble-stones shall weepe FINIS SONNET Loe here behold these tributarie Teares Paid to thy faire but cruell tyrant Eyes Loe here the blossome of my youthfull yeares Nipt with the fresh of thy Wraths winter dyes Here on Loues Altar I doo offer vp This burning hart for my Soules sacrifice Here I receaue this deadly-poysned Cu Of Circe charm'd wherein deepe Magickelyes Then Teares if you be happie Teares indeed And Hart if thou be lodged in his brest And Cup if thou canst helpe despaire with speed Teares Hart and Cup conioyne to make me blest Teares moue Hart win Cup cause ruth loue desire In word in deed by moane by zeale by fire FINIS THE COMPLAINT OF CHASTITIE Briefely touching the cause of the death of Matilda Fitzwalters an English Ladie sometime loued of King Iohn after poysoned The Storie is at large written by Michael Dreyton YOV modest Dames inricht with Chastitie Maske your bright eyes with Vestaes sable Vaile Since few are left so faire or chast as shee Matter for me to weepe you to bewaile For manie seeming so of Vertue faile Whose louely Cheeks with rare vermilion tainted Can neuer blush because their faire is painted O faire-foule Tincture staine of Woman-kinde Mother of Mischiefe Daughter of Deceate False traitor to the Soule blot to the Minde Vsurping Tyrant of true Beauties seate Right Cousner of the eye lewd Follies baite The flag of filthines the sinke of shame The Diuells dye dishonour of thy name Monster of Art Bastard of bad Desier Il-worshipt Idoll false Imagerie Ensigne of Vice to thine owne selfe a lier Silent Inchaunter mindes Anatomie Sly Bawd to Lust Pandor to Infamie Slaunder of Truth Truth of Difsimulation Staining our Clymate more than anie Nation What shall I say to thee thou scorne of Nature Blacke spot of sinne vylde lure of lecherie Iniurious Blame to euerie faemale creature Wronger of time Broker of trecherie Trap of greene youth false Womens witcherie Hand-maid of pride high-way to wickednesse Yet path-way to Repentance nerethelesse Thou dost entice the minde to dooing euill Thou setst dissention twixt the man and wife A Saint in show and yet indeed a deuill Thou art the cause of euerie common strife Thou art the life of Death the death of Life Thou doost betray thy selfe to Infamie When thou art once discerned by the eye Ah little knew Matilda of thy being Those Times were pure from all impure complection Then Loue came of Desert Desire of seeing Then Vertue was the mother of Affection But Beautie now is vnder no subiection Then women were the same that men did deeme But now they are the same they doo not seeme What faemale now intreated of a King With gold and iewels pearles and precious stones Would willingly refuse so sweete a thing Onely for a little show of Vertue ones Women haue kindnes grafted in their bones Gold is a deepe-perswading Orator Especially where few the fault abhor But yet shee rather deadly poyson chose Oh cruell Bane of most accursed Clime Than staine that milke-white Mayden-virgin Rose Which shee had kept vnspotted till that time And not corrupted with this earthly slime Her soule shall liue inclosd eternally In that pure shrine of Immortality This is my Doome and this shall come to passe For what are Pleasures but still-vading ioyes Fading as flowers brittle as a glasse Or Potters Clay crost with the least annoyes All things in this life are but trifling Toyes But Fame and Vertue neuer shall decay For Fame is Toomblesse Vertue liues for aye FINIS Hellens Rape OR A light Lanthorne for light Ladies Written in English Hexameters LOuely a Lasse so loue da Lasse
and alas such a louing Lasse Lasse for a while but a while was none such a sweet bonny Loue As Helen Maenelaus louing lou'd louelie a loue-lasse Till spight full Fortune from a loue-lasse made her a loue-lesse Wife From a wise woman to a witles vvant on abandond When her mate vnawares made warr es in Peloponessus Adultrous Paris then a Boy kept sheepe as a shepheard On Ida Mountaine vnknowne to the King for a Keeper Of sheep on Ida Mountaine as a Boy as a shepheard Yet such sheep he kept and was so seemelie a shepheard Seemelie a Boy so seemelie a youth so seemelie a Younker That on Ide was not such a Boy such a youth such a Younker Sonne now reconcil'd to the Father fained a letter Sent him by Iupiter the greatest God in Olympus For to repaire with speede to the brauest Graecian Hauen And to redeeme againe Hesyone latelie reuolted From Troy by Ayax whom she had newly betrothed Well so well he told his tale to his Aunt Amaryllis That A maryllis his Aunt obtained of his aged Syre that he sent him a ship and made him Capten of Argus Great store went to Greece with lust-bewitched Alexis Telamour and Tydias with these he sliceth the salt seas The salt seas slicing at length be comes to the firme land Firme land an auntient Iland cald old Lacedaemon Argus eye full Earle when first the ken of a Castle He had spide bespake to the Mate to the men to the Mates-man Lo behold of Greece quoth he the great Cytadella Ycleaped Menela so tearmd of Deliaes Husband Happie Helen Womens most woonder beautifull Helen Oh would God quoth he with a flattring Tongue he repeated Oh would God quoth he that I might deserue to be husband To such a happie huswife to such a beautifull Helen This he spake to intice the minde of a lecherous young-man But what spurres neednow for an vntam'd Titt to be trotting Or to add old Oile to the flame new flaxe to the fier Paris heard him hard and gaue good eare to his harkening And then his loue to a lust his lust was turnd to a fier Fire was turnd to a flame and flame was turnd to a burning Brand and mothers Dreame was then most truelie resolued Well so far th' are come that now th' are come to the Castle Castle all of stone yet euery stone vvas a Castle Euerie foote had a Fort and euerie Fort had a fountaine Euerie fountaine a spring and euerie spring had a spurting Streame so strong vvithout vvithin so stately a building Neuer afore vvas seene If neuer afore Polyphoebe Was seene vvas to be seene if nere to be seene vvas Olympus Flovvers vvere framd of flints Walls Rubies Rafters of Argent Pauements of Chrisolite Windovvs contriu'd of a Christall Vessels vvere of gold vvith gold vvas each thing adorned Golden Webs more vvorth than a vvealthy Souldan of Egypt And her selfe more worth than a wealthy Souldan of Egypt And her selfe more worth than all the wealth shee possessed Selfe indeede such a selfe as thundring Ioue in Olympus Though he were father could finde in his hart to be husband Embassage ended to the Queene of faire Lacedaemon Happie King of a Queene so faire of a Country so famous Embassage ended a Banquet braue was appointed Sweet Repast for a Prince fine Iunkets fit for a Kings sonne Biskets and Carawayes Comfets Tart Plate Ielly Ginge-bread Lymons and Medlars and Dishes moe by a thousand First they fell to the feast and after fall to a Dauncing And from a Dance to a Trance from a Trance they fell to a falling Either in others armes and either in armes of another Pastime ouer-past and Banquet duely prepared Deuoutly pared Each one hies home to his owne home Saue Lord and Ladie Young Lad but yet such an old Lad In such a Ladies lappe at such a slipperie by-blow That in a vvorld so vvide could not be found such a vvilie Lad in an Age so old could not be found such an old lad Old lad and bold lad such a Boy such a lustie Iuuentus Well to their vvorke they goe and both they iumble in one Bed Worke so well they like that they still like to be vvorking For Aurora mounts before he leaues to be mounting And Astraea fades before she faints to be falling Helen a light Huswife now a light some starre in Olympus FINIS