troopes Ore-match vs thus by might That comes with fearefull cowardice with vs thiâ— day to fight Shall Tudor from Plantaginet Win thus the crowne away No Richards noble wind foretells that ours will be the day For Golden crownes we brauely fight And gold shall be their gaine In great abundance giuen to them that liues this day vnslaine These words being spoke the battles ioynd Where blowes they brauely change And Richmond like a Lyon bold performed wonders strange And made such slaughters through the camp Till he King Richard spiâ—s Who fighting long together there at last the Tyrant dyes Thus ended Englands wofull Warre Usurping Richard dead King Henry faire Elizabeth in princely sort did wed For he was then made Englands King And she his crowned Quéene So twixt these houses long at strife a vnity was séene FINIS A Lamentable Song of Lady Elinor daughter to the Duke of Buckingham who dyed for loue of one Captaine Ienkenson that had been a Prentise of London who went to the siege of Ierusalem with Edward the first then King of England To the tune of Rogero IN England liued once a Duke That had a daughter braue To whom his Dukedome and estate he from all others gaue And dying left faire Elinor To be his onely heire Whâ—se minde vpon a Captaines loue was setled deepe and deare This Captaine gallant Ienkenson By name then called so In prison lay for want of meanes and money he did owe. But loue so deare assailed her That she must loue or dye And none but onely he aliue within her heart did lie So watching fit conuenient time She to the prison went And vnderneath his window then full many a teare she spent But entring in her eyes beheld The image of her heart To whom her loue and liking soone She friendly did impart And hauing made her purpose knowne My dearest friend quoth she I haue tane order for thy debts and here I set thee free With all my land my loue and life And whatsoere is mine Take all and giue me liberty that here haue caused thine No sooner was he got at large And wealth relieu'd his woe But thence vnto Ierusalem did Englands Edward goe With whom this Captaine Ienkenson Was nobly entertainde And so vnkindly went from her as one whom he disdaind Which when she heard she tore her hayre And cast her on the ground And being ouerprest with griefe she fell into a sownd But afterward recouering sence This Letter she did write And sent it after him to read as héere I will recite FINIS The Letter To the same tune WHat faults of mine haue caused this My dearest friend tell me If I haue been the meanes thereof then mournfull may I be My loue thou knowest deare Ienkenson Full many a Lord hath sought Yet all haue mist saue thou alone and thou setst me at naught If thy deâ—â—res be so to warres Then warre sweet loue with me For Cupids gallant soldiers still the sweetest warriers be With thée I le liue with thee I le dye With thée I le loose or gaine Returne sweet loue for in thy life Consists the liues of twaine Most wisely valiant are those men That backe their armed steeds In Courtly tilts in time of peace to breake their staues like reeds Where not the dint of wounding swords But some deuice of loue They may their manhoods courteously before their Ladies prooue Where Ladies doffe their louers helmes And kisse where Beauers hid And parley vnder Canopies how well or ill they did Retire therefore retire sweetheart Where if thou wilt be armd Come fight vpon my bosome heere and so escape vnharmd But now me thinkes I see thy lookes Quite changed in thy face Me thinkes thy comlinesse and gate hath lost their wonted grace Me thinkes I see thy manly limbes With Armors burthen lame And warlike weapons wounding deepe thy noble bosome maime I see thee faint with Summers heate And droope with winters cold I see thee not as late thou wast for young thou art growne olde And sorrow greatly for to know What now I would not see Thy dearest Lady thus in vaine to plead for loue to thee Thus when my griefes my sighes teares Shall come vnto thy view Then wilt thou find by these my paines my loue is deare and true But these my words thou carst not for I sée thou art vnkind Yet here to ease my dying heart in letters take my minde Captaine Ienkinsons Answere I haue perusd I know not what forsooth thy scroule of loue In hope by these thy flattering lines My setled minde to moue But I disdaine to talke of loue much lesse in loue to be For martiall druins and warlike stéeds more better pleaseth me The Bées that sweetest hony beares haue likwise smarting stings And thou no whit dost want a bait that to repentance brings Content thee therefore Elinor thou temperst loue by art Although it come vnto mine eyes it shall not touch my heart When sea shal flame when Sun shal fréeâ—e and mortall men shall die And riuers ouerflow their bankes in loue will then be I. When these shall be and I not be then may I chance to loue And then the strangest change you le see that I a louer proue Let beauers hide not kisses hurt my lippes for lippes vnfit Let wounded limbes not silken loues on top of honour sit I scorne a Souldier that should stoope to please a louers mind That fights for Fame in fields of blood should alter thus from kind Yet some there be whose maiden hayres no sooner buds on chin But they to loue our Ladies faire doe wantonly begin And wins them soone who would be won and being won with speed They gained haue a crop of corne that scarce is worth the seed These loue in sport but leaue in spight as I haue found it true And being thus so easily won are changed for a new But kindnesse must haue kindâ—st vse though kind be hardly one Their kindnesse then I must refuse because I will haue none And strange it were a Souldier I should loue this English maid The wonders seuen should then be eight could loue me so perswade But loue er hate fare ill or well I thus conclude my minde My welcome when I come to thée Shall surely proue vnkinde This Answer brought to Elinor such inward sorrow bred That she in reading of these lines poore Lady fell downe dead Where her deare loue and gentle life Had both together end And as we may suppose in death her soule did liue his friend For she by Will did him bequeath Her substance and estate Thus loue bâ—ing grounded in the heart can neuer turne to hate Her wealth her meanes and all she had This Captaine did possesse Which brought vnto his grieued soule much woe and wretchednesse For comming from Ierusalem And entring on the same To view what wealth the Lady left he to her Chamber came Where as the Ladies picture hung With which he
fell in loue And so the shaddow wrought the thing the substance could not moue Her courtesie and his despight He calleth then to minde And of her beauty being dead a sodaine change did finde Remembring then his low degree And reckoning her desert He could not thinke but that he â—ore in loue too proud a heart Now loue qd â—he though breathlesse she Doth such a fâ—ame contriue The which shall soone consume me quite for I doe burne aliue Alas then did he pause in teares Oh take it from mine eye This picture hath procurde my death and for the same must dye For she that was the owner liuâ—e And dyed a louer true Whose Ghost at parting could not choose but say sweet loue adue Adue indeed kind gentle Dame For lacke of loue that dyed And left off liuing in that eye her of my loue denied Thus by her picture prickt with loue He felt continuall woe And bearing it still in his hand he to her graue did goe Where sitting on the same he said He loues the shadow now Whose heart vnto the substance late would rather breake then bow Oh gods I grant for this contempt I must indure your doome And sacrifice mine owne false heart vpon my true loues tombe Whose onely beauty worthy was To match without a dower Yet she in vaine did beg my loue full many a weary houre And hauing spoke these mournefull words A Tragedy to make His dagger from his side in hast he desperately did take And to his heart he strooke the same With all his manly force And so vpon his true loues graue was made a liuelesse coarse Finis A Courtly new Song of the Princely wooing of the faire Maide of London by K. Edward To the tune of Bâ—nny sweet Robin FAire Angell of England thy beauty so bright Is all my hearts treasure my ioy and delight Then grant me sweet Lady thy true loue to be That I may say welcome good fortune to me The Turtle so pure and chaste in her loue By gentle perswasions her fancy will moue Then â—e not intreated sweet Lady in vaine For nature requireth what I would obtaine What Phenix so famous that liueth alone Is vowed to chastity being but one But be not my Darling so chaâ—â— in desire Lest thou like the Phenix doe penance in fire But alas gallant Lady I pitty thy state In being resolued to liue withâ—ut mate For if of our Courting the pleasures you knew You would haue a liking the same to ensue Long time haue I sued the same to obtaine Yet am I requited with scornefull disdaine But if you will grant your good fauour some You shall be aduanced to Princely degree Promotions and honours may often intice The chastest that liueth though neuer so nice What woman so worthy but will be content To liue in the Pallace where Princes frequent Two brides young Princely to Church I haue led Two Ladies most louely haue decked my bed Yet hath thy loue taken more root in my heart Then all their contentments whereof I had part Your gentle hearts cannot mens teares much abide And women least angry when most they doe chide Then yeeld to me kindly and say that at length Men doe want mercy and poore women strength I grant that faire Ladies may poore men resist But Princes will conquer and loue whom they list A King may command her to sleepe by his side Whose feature deserueth to be a Kings Bride In granting your loue you shall purchase renowne Your head shall be deckt with Englands fair Crowne Thy garmeÌ„ts most gallant with gold shal be wrought If tâ—ue loue for treasure of thee may be bought Great Ladies of honour shall tend on thy traine Most richly attyred with Scarlet in graine My chamber most princely thy person shall keepe Where virgins with musicke shall rock thee asléepe If any more pleasures thy heart can inuent Command them sweet Lady thy mind to content For Kings gallant courts wâ—ere Princes do dwell Afford such swéet pastimes as Ladies loue well Then be not resolued to die a true maide But print in thy bosome the words I haue said And grant a King fauour thy true loue to be That I may say welcome swéet virgin to me FINIS The faire maide of Londons answer to King Edwardâ— wanton Loue. To the same tune Oâ— wanton King Edward t is labour in vaine To follow the pleasure thou canst not attaine â—â—ich getting thou loosest and hauing dost wast it The which if thou purchase is spoild if thou hast it But if thou obtainst it thou nothing hast won And I loosing nothing yet quite am vndone But if of that Iewell a King do deceiue me No King can restore though a Kingdome he giue me My colour is changed since you saw me last My fauour is vanisht my beauty is past The Rosie red blushes that sate on my cheekes To palenesse are turned which all men mislikes I passe not what Princes for loue do protest The name of a Uirgin contenteth me best I haue not deserued to sleepe by thy side Nor to be accounted for King Edwards Bride The name of a Princes I neuer did craue No such type of honour thy handmaide will haue My brest shall not harbour so lofty a thought Nor be with rich proffers to wantonnesse brought If wild wanton Rosamond one of our sort Had neuer frequented King Henries braue Court Such heapes of deepe sorrow she neuer had séen Nor tasted the rage of so iealous a Quéene All men haue their freedome to shew their intent They win not a woman except she consent Who then can impute vnto them any fault Who still go vpright vntill women do hault T is counted a kindnesse in men for to trye And vertue in women the sawe to deny For women vnconstant can neuer be prou'd Untill by their betters therein they be mou'd If women and modelly once do but seuer Then farewell good name and credite for euer And Royall King Edward let me be exilde Ere any man know that my body 's defilde No no my old fathers reuerend teares Too deepe an impression within my soule beares Nor shall his bright honour that blâ—â— by me haue To bring his gray haâ—res with griefe to his graue The heauens forbid that when I shall dye That any such sinne vpon my soule lie If I haue thus kept we from doing this sinne My heart shall not yeeld with a Prince to begin Come rather with pitty to weepe on my tombe Then for my birth curse my deare mothers wombe That broght forth a blossome which stained the trée With wanton desires to shame her and me Leaue me most noble King tempt not in vaine My milke-white affections with lewdnesse to staine Though England will giue me no comfort at all Yet England will giue me a sad buriall FINIS The most cruell murther of Edward the fift and his brother Duke of Yorke in the Towre by their Vncle Richard Duke of Gloster To the tune
each day and each night to worke him despight That wearied with sorrowes he still might lament Good king thus abused he was at the last To Pomfret in Yorkeshire conuaid And there in a dungeon ful low in the grouÌ„d vnpitied he nightly was laied Not one for his miserie grieued that late was in place of royallest grace Where still the distressed he kindly relieu'd King Henry vsurping thus all his estate Could neuer in heart be content Till some of his friends in secrecy sought to kill him by cruell consent Who sooke to Pomfret hiâ—d where as the feare that toucht him so neare They finisht so soon as K. Richard there died Ther dyed this good king for murthereâ— he was That might well haue liued full long Had not ill counsell betraied his best good and done his hie fortunes this wrong But blood for blood still calls no bloody staind hand ran long in this land Stand surely but soone vnto misery falls Lankaster thus the Diadem gaind And won his title by blood Which after by heauens â—ight power not three generations stood But yeelded to Yorke againe thus fortune showes their proud ouer throwes That cunningly climes an imperial raigne FINIS A song of an English Knight that marryed the royall Princesse Lady Mary sister to King Henry the eight which Knight was afterward made Duke of Suffolke To the Tune of Who list to lead a Souldiers life EIght Henry ruling in this land he had a sister faire That was the widdowed King of France inricht with vertues eare And being come to Englandâ— Court She oft beheld a Kinght Charles Brandon namd in whose faire eyes she cheifly tooke delight And noting in her Princely minde His gallent swéet behauiour Shee daily drew him by degrees still more and more in fauour Which he perceiuing courteâ—us Knight Found fitting time and place And thus in amorous sort began his loue sure to her grace I ayme at loue faire Queene said he Sweet let your loue incline That by your grace Charles Brandon may on earth be made diuine If worthlesse I might worthy be To haue so good a lot To please your highnesse in true loue my fancy doubteth not Or if that gentry might conuey So great a grace to me I can maintaine the same by birth being come of good degree If wealth you thinke be all my want Your highnesse hath great â—â—ore And my supplyment shall be loue what can you wish for more It hath been known when hearty loue Did tye the true loue knot Though now if gold and siluer want the marriage proueth not The goodly Queene hereat did blusâ— But made a dumbe reply Which he imagind what she meant and kist her reuerently Brandon quoth she I greater am Then would I were for thee But can as little master loue as them of low degree My father was a King and so A King my husband was My brother is the like and he will say I do transgresse But let him say what pleaseth him His liking I le forgoe And choose a loue to please myselfe though all the world sayes no. If Plough-men make their marriages As best contents their mind Why should not princes of estâ—te the like contentment find But tell me Brandon am I not More forward then beseemes Yet blame me not for loue I loue where best my fancy deemes And long may liue quoth he to loue Nor longer liue may I Then when I loue your royall grace and then disgraced dye But if I do deserue your loue My mind desires dispatch For many are the eyes in Court that on your beauty watch But am not I sweet Lady now More fancy then behooues Yet for my heart forgiue my tongue that speakes for him that loues The Quéene and this braue Gentleman Together both did wed And after sought the kings good will and of their wishes sped For Brandon soone was made a Duke and graced so in court Then who but he did fâ—ant it forth amongst the noblest sort And so from princely Brandons line and Maries did procéed The noble race of Suffolks house as after did succéed From whose high blood the Lady Iane Lord Guilford Dudleyes wife Came by descent who with her Lord in London lost her life FINIS A Song of the life and death of King Richâ—â—d the third who after many murthers by him committed vpon the Princes and Nobles of this Land was slâ—ine at the battell of Bosworth in Lester shire by Henry the seuenth King of England To the tune of Who list to lead a Souldiers life IN England once there raignd a King A Tirant firâ—e and sell Who for to gaine himselfe a Crowne gaue sure his soule to hell Third Richard was this Tirants name the worst of all the three That wrought such deeds of deadly dole that worser could not be For his desires were still by blood to be made Endglands King Which here to gaine that goâ—den prize did many a wondrous thing He slaughtered vp our noble Péeres and chiefest in this Land With euery one that likely was his title to withstand Foure bloudy fields the Tyrant sought ere he could bring to passe What he made lawlesse claime vnto as his best liking was Sixt Henries Princely sonne he slew Before his fathers face And weeded from our English throne all his renowned race This King likewise in Londons Tower he murthering made away His brother Duke of Clarence life he also did betray With those right noble Princes â—waine King Edwards children deare Because to Englands royall Crowne he thought them both too neere His owne deare wife also he slew Incesâ—uousâ—y to wed His owne deare daughter which for feare away from him was fled And made such hauocke in this land Of all the Royall bloud That onely one was left vnslaine to haue his claimes withstood Earle Richmond he by heauen preseru'd To right his Countries wrong From France prepar'd full well to fight brought ore an Army strong To whom Lord Stanley nobly came With many an English Peere And ioynd their forces in one Earle Richmonds heart to cheare Which newes when as the Tyrant heard How they were come on shore And how their forces day by day increased more and more He frets he fumes and ragingly A madding fury showes And thought it but in vaine to stay and so to battell goes Earle Richmond he in order braue His fearelesse armie laid In midst of whom these noble words their valiant leader said Now is the time and place swéet friends And we the souldiers be That must bring Englands peace againe or loose our liues must we Be valiant then we fight for fame And for our countries good Against a Tyrant markt with shame for shedding Englands blood I am right heire of Lancaster Intituled to the Crowne Against this bloody Boare of Yoâ—ke then let vs win renowne Meane while had furious Richard set His army in array And with a gastly looke of feare he stoutly thuâ— did say Shall Henry Richmond with his
come or tarry FINIS The Weauers Shuttle or a Loue-Song made by a Preptise of London that loued a yong Gentlewoman in the countrey doubting of her constancy To the tune of Riding to Rumford OH how I sigh and sob Oh how I languish Oh how my heart doth throb with griefe and anguish My song I cannot tune For loue I do consume I cannot worke in Loome hang vp my shuttle My treadles all stand still I cannot vse them My shuttle and my quill I will refuse them My batten and my slay And all my Leses play Hey hoe till holiday hang vp my shuttle Yet though they do stand still I must be doing And to my loue in good will I must a wooing I cannot merry be But in her company Sweet heart I come to thee and leaue my shuttle And when I visit thee And haue my wishes And entertained be with dainty kisses â— how my heart doth grieue So soone my loue to leaue And go againe to weaue and vse my shuttle Yet shuttle flye apace Till thou art weary For I must weaue my laâ—e sing and be merry Till the next holiday Then thou and I will play Hay ho cast care away hang vp my shuttle If thou vnconstant proue I le not respect thee But choose another loue and quite reiect thee A Weauer thou shalt know Scornes to be serued so Though my true heart I show vsing my shuttle Gentlemen Weauers all That heares my ditty Pardon my verses small rude and vnwitty If they do you offend Next I make I will mend And so my Song doth end reach me my shuttle FINIS Of the inconueniences by Marriage To the tune of When Troy towne FOnd wanton youth makes loue a god Which after proueth ages rod Their youth their time their wit and art They spend in seeking of their smart And which of follies is the chiefe They woo their wo they wed their griefe All find it so that wedded are Loues sweet they find enfold sowre eare His pleasures pleasingst in the eye Which tasted once with loathing die they find of follies t is the chiefe their wo to woo to wed their griefe If for their owne content they chose Forthwith their kindreds loâ—e they loose And if their kindred they content For euer after they repent O t is of all our bodies chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe In bed what strifes are bred by day Our puling wiues do open lay None friends none foes we must esteeme But whom they so vouchsafe to deeme O t is of all our follies chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe Their smile we want if ought they want And either we their wils must grant Or die they will or are with child Their laughing must not be beguild O t is of all our follies chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe Foule wiues are iealous faire wiues fall Marriage to either binds vs thrall Wherefore being bound we must obey And forced be perforce to say Of all our follies t is the chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe FINIS The Shepheards Ioy. To the tune of Barra Faustus Dreame COme sweet Loue let sorrow cease â—anish frownes leaue of discention Loue warres make the sweetest peace hearts vniting by contention Sun-shine followes after raine Sorrowes ceasing this is pleasing All proues faire againe after sorrow soone comes ioy Try me proue me trust me loue me This will cure annoy Winter hides his frosty face Blushing now to be more veâ—â—ed Spring return'd with pleasant grace Floraes treasures are renued Lambes reioyce to sée the Spring Shipping leaping sporting playing Birds for ioy do sing so let the Spring of ioy renue Laughing colling kissing playing And giue loue his due See those bright sunnes of thine eyes Clouded now with black disdaining Shall such stormy tempests rise to set loues faire dayes a rayning All are glad the skies being cleare Lighly ioying sporting toying With their louely cheare but as sad to see a shower Sadly drooping lowring pâ—wting Turning sweet to sower Then sweet loue dispearse this cloude That obscures this scornefull coying When all creatures sings aloude filling hearts with ouer ioying As euery bird do choose her make Gently billing she is willing Her true loue to take with such words let vs contend Woing doing wedding bedding And so our strife shall end FINIS A pleasant Song Intituled You pretty wantons warble YOu pretty birds that sit and sing amidst the shady vallies And sée how sweetly Phillis walkes within her garden allyes Go pretty birds vnto her bowre sing pretty birds she may not lowre For feare my fairest Phillis frowne you pretty wantons warble Go tell her through your chirping bils as you by me are bidden To her is only knowne my loue which from the world is hidden Go pretty birds and tell her so see that your notes fall not too low For feare c. Go tune your voyces harmony and sing I am her Louer Straine low and hie that euery note with sweet content may moue her Tell her it is her louer true that sendeth loue by you and you Aye me me thinkes I see her frowne you pretty wantons warble Fly fly make haste me thinks shée s falne into a pleasant slumber Sing round about her Rosie bower that waking she may wonder And he that hath the swéetest voyce tell â—er I le neuer change my choyce Aye me c Fly pretty birds and in your bils beare me a louing letter Unto my fairest Phillis and with your sweet musick gréet her Go pretty birds vnto her hye haste pretty birds vnto her flye Aye me c. And if you finde her sadly seâ— about her swéetly chaunt it Untill she smiling raise her head nere cease vntill she grant it Go pretty birds and tell her I as you haue done will to her flye Aye me c. Henceforth refuse you pretty birds to chiepe in vnâ—outh places And draw you all together there where louely Phillis traces There pretty birds about her sing there pretty birds make ecchoes ring For feare my fairest Phillis frowne you pretty wantons warble FINIS The Louers lamentation for the death of faire Phillis HOw can I chuse but sigh and mone and euermore sit weeping My fairest Phillis she is gone death hath her in his keeping O death how durst thou be so bold to lay my Phillis in the mold Aye me aye me aye woe is me cease pretty birds to warble Cease now your chirping melody for Spring times past and gone And Winters chilling stormes deny your harmony be showne Keepe you your nests I le keepe my den where thousand frightfull obiects been Aye me c. Her shadow hanging in my sight addes to my griefe and anguish The substance wanting in the â—ght for which I lye and languish The pretty toyes she vsde to wâ—are lie scattered now some here some there â—ye me aye me c. So that the place when she suruiude which was a place of pleasure
Is vncouth made by losse of this inestimable treasure That beauty that made her excell made that seem heauen that now seemes hell Aye me aye me c. We rt that the force of men deâ—ainde my fairest Phillis from me Or Iron barres or bolts or locks she might not looke vpon me Then might I hope to re-obtaine her presence but all hope is vaine Aye me aye me c. Oh why should mens desires like hounds pursue this vaine worlds pleasure And count them happy in nought else but in this vaine worlds treasure Seeing to day we mount in Mirth and fall to morrow in the earth Aye me aye me c. Finis The Maidens complaint To the tune I can nor will no longer lie alone CAn any tell me what I aile I am growne so sick so weak so pale I to that plight alas am growne that I can nor will no longer lie alone Was euer maidens cafe like mine thus of fifteen yeres of age to pine Were I the iudge I am sure there is none that should any longer lie alone When it is day I wish for night and when it is darke for light againe Thus all the night long to tosse to gâ—â—ne for that I can no longer lie alone If dreames be true then iudge I can all that I want is but a man Only for one I make this moane for that I can no longer lie alone To woe him first ashamde am I but if he aske I will not deny Such is my case I must haue one for that I can no longer lie alone Yet shall this be my prayer still for one that may giue me my fill For I care not how soone it be knowne that I can nor will no longer lie alone For all my wishings Ile haue none but him I loue and I loue but one And if he loue not me then will I haue none but euer till I dye I le lie alone Finis The inconstancy of the World WHat if a day a moneth or a yeere Crown thy desires with a thousand wisht contentings Cannot the chance of an night or an houre Crosse thy delights with as many sad tormentings Fortune in their fairest birth Are but blossomes dying Wanton pleasures doating mirth Are but shadowes flying All our ioyes are but toyes Idle thoughts deceiuing None hath power of an hour In our liues bereauing What if a smile or a beck or â— looke Feed my fond thoughts with as many sweet conceiuing May not that smile or that beck or that look Tell thee as well they are but vaine deceiuing Why shoâ—ld beauty be so proude In things of no surmounting All her wealth is but a shroude Of a rich accounting Then in this repose no blisse Which is vaine and idle Beauties flowers haue their houres Time doth hold the bridle What if the world with alures of his wealth Raise thy degrée to a place of high aduancing May not the world by a check of that wealth Put thee again to as low despised chaâ—â—ing Whilst the Sun of wealth doth shine Thou shalt haue friends plenty But come want they then repent Not one abides of twenty Wealth and friends holde and ends As your fortunes rise and fâ—ll Up and downe rise and frowne Certaine is no state at all What if a griefe or a straine or a fit Pinch thée with pain or the féeling â—angs of sicknes Doth not that gripâ— or that straine or that fit Shew thee the forme of thy own true perfect likenes Health is but a glimpse of ioy Subiect to all changes Mirth is but a silly toy Which mishap estranges Tell me then silly man Why art thou so weake of wit As to be in ieopardy When thou maist in quiet sit Then if all this haue declard thine amisse Take it from me as a gentle friendly warning If thou refuse and good counsell abuse Thou maist hereafter dearely buy thy learning All is hazard that we haue There is nothing hiding Daies of pleasure are like streames Through the meddowes gliding Wealth or wo time doth geâ— There is no returning Secret fates guide our stateâ— Both in mirth and mourning FINIS Loues Constancy SInce Arâ— I saw thy face I resolue to honour and renowne yee If now I be disdaind I wiâ—h my heart had neuer knowne 〈◊〉 What I that loude and you that likt shall we begin to wrangle No no no no my heart is fixt and cannot now intangle If I admirdâ— or praisd you too much that fault you may forgiue me Or if my hand had strayed to touch then iustly might you leaue me I askt you leaue you bad me loue i st now a time to chide me No no no no I le loue you still what fortune ere betide me The Sun whose beames most glorious are reiecteth no beholder â—nd your sweet beauty past compare made my poore eyes the holder Where beauty moues and wit delights and signes of kindnes binds me There O there where ere I go I le leaue my heart behinde me FINIS Coridons dolefull knell To the tune of Ding dong MY Phillida a due Loue And euermore farewell I must go seeke a new Loue Yet I will ring her knell Ding dong ding dong ding dong My Phillida is dead I le sticke a branch of Willowes At my faire Phillis head Our bridall bed was made But my faire Phillida In steed of silken shade She now lies wrapt in clay Ding dong c. Her corps shall be attended With nimphes in rich array Till obsequies beâ—ended And my loue wrapt in clay Ding dong c. Her hearse it shall be carryed With them that doe excell And when that she is buried Thus will I ring her knell Ding dong c. â—le decke her tombe with flowers The rarest that ere was seene And with my teares as sheweâ—â— I le keepe them fresh and greene Ding dong c. In stead of fairest colours Set forth by curious art Her picture shall be painted In my distressed heart Ding dong c. And euer shal be written And after shall be said 〈◊〉 louâ— is not forgotten Though Phillida be dead Ding dong c. In sable will I mourne The blacke shall be my weeâ—e Aye me I heare some talke That Phillida is dead Ding dong ding dong ding dong My Phillida is dead c. A garland shall be framed By art and natures skill With sundry coloured flowers In token of good will Ding dong c. With sâ—ndry coloured Ribâ—ands As much I will bestow They should be blacke and yellow In token of good will Ding dong c. True louers be not scanting With â—eares to make me mone Since Philida is wanting And all my ioyes are gone Ding dong c. She was my louely true loue My heart can witnesse well Wherefore in signe I loue her Once more I le ring her knell Ding dong ding dong ding dong My Phillada is dead I le sticke a branch of Wâ—llowes At my faire Phillis head FINIS Coridons Resolution THere is a Lady sweet and kinde Was neuer face so pleasâ—e my minde â— did but see her passing by And yet I loue her till I die â—er iesture motion and her smiles â—er wit her voyce my heart beguiles Beguiles my heart I know not why â—nd yet I loue her till I dye â—ow I her fast betwixt mine armes â—udge you that thinke such sports were harmes â—ert any harme no fie fie For I will loue her till I die â—hould I remaine confined there â—o long as Phoebus in his sphere â— to request she to deny â—et would I loue her till I die â—upid is winged and doth range â—er countrey so my loue doth change But change she earth or change she skye â—et will I loue her till I die FINIS The Shepheards Dialogue of loue betweene Willy anâ— Cuddy To the tune of Maying time Willy HOw now shepheard what meanes that Why wearst thou willow in thy hee Why are thy Scarfes of red and yellow Turnde to branches of greene willow Cuddy They are changde and so am I Sorrow liues but pleasure dyes She hath now forsaken me Which makes me weare the Willow tree Will. What that Phillis loude thee long Is that the Lasse hath done thee wrong She that loude thee long and best Is her loue turned to a Iest. Cudd. She that loued me long and best 〈◊〉 me set my heart at rest 〈◊〉 she a new Loue loues not me â—hat makes me weare the Willow tree Will. Come then shepheard let vs ioyne Since thy hap is like to mine For the wight I thoughâ— most true Now hath changde me foâ— a new Cudd Well then since thy hap is so Take no â—aâ—e but let hâ—â— goâ— â—hy hard hap doth minâ— appease â—â—mpany doth sorrowes ease Will. Then I will forget her loue â—ince wantonly she false will proue 〈◊〉 for her sake bid all adue 〈◊〉 seldome women do proue true 〈◊〉 for her sake I le sit and piâ—e 〈◊〉 she was once a Loue of mine â—hich shall nere forgotten be â—â—ough I weare the Willow tree 〈◊〉 Heards man be aduised by me â—ast of griefe and Willow tree â—or thy greefe breeds her content 〈◊〉 is pleasde if thou lament 〈◊〉 Then I will be rulde by thee â—here lies griefe and Willow tree 〈◊〉 â—â—rth I will do as they 〈…〉 a new 〈◊〉 euery day A Table 〈…〉 â— Queene Elizabethâ— couragâ— against the Spaniâ—â— eighty eight 7 How two English Princeâ— became Shepheards Salisbury Plaine 8 The life and death of Richard the second 9 Of Charles Brandon who maried Henry the eightâ— 10 Of King Richard the third 11 Of the Lady Elinor and Captaine Ieâ—kenâ—on 12 King Edwards wooing 13 Two Princes murdered in the Tower 14 A penny worth of wit 15 Tâ—tuâ— Andronicus The Songâ— in the second Part. 1 What care I now faire she be 2 Sleepe wayward thoughts â— Farewell deare loue 〈…〉 Weaue 〈◊〉
England and King Edwards heire by right Lord Guilford and the Lady Iane Were wedded by their parents wils The right from Mary so was tane Which drew them on to further ils But marke the end of this misdeed Mary was crowned crowned crowned and they to death decreed And being thus adiudged to die For these their parents haughty aimes That thinking thus to mount on high Their children King Queene proclaimes But in such aymes no blessings be When as ten thousand thousand thousand their shamefull endings see Sweet Princes they deserud no blame That thus must die for fathers cause And bearing of so great a name To contradict our English lawes Let all men then conclude in this That they are haples haples haples whose parents doe amisse Now who more great then they of late Now who more wretched then they are And who more lofty in estate Thus sodenly consumd with care Then Princes all set downe this rest And say the golden golden golden golden meane is alwayes best Prepard at last drew on the day Whereon these Princes both must die Lord Guilford Dudley by the way His dearest Lady did espye Whilst he vnto the blocke did goe She in her window weeping weeping did lament his woe Their eyes that lookt for loue ere-while Now blubberd were with pearled teares And euery glance and loners smile Where turnd to dole and deadly feares Lord Guilfords life did bleeding lie Expecting Angels Angels Angels siluer wings to mount on hie His dearest Lady long did looke When she likewise to blocke should goe Where sweetly praying on her booke She made no signe of outward woe But wisht that she had Angels wings To see that golden golden golden sight of heauenly things And mounting on the Scaffold then Where Guilfords liuelesse body lay I come quoth she thou flower of men For death shall not my soule dismay The gates of heauen stand open wide To rest for euer and euer and euer and thus these gentle Princes dyed Their parents likewise lost their heads For climing thus one step too high Ambitious towers haue slippery leades And fearefull to a wise mans eye For onee amisse great houses fall Therfore take warning warning warning by this you gallants all FINIS A ioyfull song of the deserued praises of good Queene Elizabeth how Princely she behaued her selfe at Tilbury Campe in 88. when the Spaniards threatned the inuasion of this Kingdome To the tune of King Henries going to Bullaine OF a Noble Noble Princesse Englands late commanding Mistris King Henries daughter faire Elizabeth She was such a maiden Queene As her like was neuer seene of any woman-kind vpon the earth Her name in golden numbers May written be with wonders that liude beloued foure and forty yeares And had the guift of nature all That to a Princesse might befall as by her noble vertues well appeares With Maiesty admired Her subiects she required that loue for loue might equally be shown Preferring a publique peace Then any priuate mans increase that quietly we stil may keepe our owne UUen Ambassies did come From any Prince in Chrisâ—endome her entertainments were so Princely sweet She likewise knew what did belong To euery language speech and tongue where grace vertue did together meet No Princesse more could measure Her well beseeming pleasure in open Court amongst her Ladies faire For musicke and for portly gate The world afforded not her mate so excellent her carriage was and faire Kingly states oppressed And such as were distressed with meanes and mony daily shee relieud As law of Nations did her bind To strangers she was euer kind and such as with calamities were grieueâ— And when into this kingdome Bloudy warres did threatning come her highnes would be ready with good wil As it in eighty eight was séene UUhen as this thrice renowned Quéene gaue noble courage to her soldiers still This more then worthy woman Like to a noble Amazon in siluer plated Armour brauely went Unto her Campe at Tilbery With many Knights of Chiualry coragiously her Army to content But being there ariued With noble heart she striued to giue them all what they desird to haue A louely grace and countenance Smiling with perseuerance to whom so swéet a countenance she gaue Upon a Drumhead sitting As it was best besitting for such a royall Princes thus to speake A Soldier I will liue and dye Feare shall neuer make me â—â—ye nor any danger leaue to vndertake With that amidst the Battle The Musquetires did rattle a peale of powder flaming all in fire The Cannons they did lowdly play To please her Maiesty that day which she in heart did louingly desire Her highnes thus delighted She roially requited the noble captaines and the souldâ—ers all For golden Angels flew amaine Round about the warlike traine each one rewarded was both great smal With that in noble manner To Englands fame and honour the thundring shot began to play againe And for this royall princes sake Ratling made the ground to shake in spight of all their enemies of Spaine The more to be commended She graciously befriended full many a worthy gentlemen that day By knighting them in noble sort As it had bin in Englands court such gallant graces had she euery way So fréely kind and louing She was by her approuing to rich poore that came vnto her grace Not any one but found her still A friend to good a foe to ill and euer vertue swéetly would imbrace But now in heauens high Pallace She liues in ioy and solace committing all her charge vnto the King Of whose admired Maiesty Ruling vs so quietly reioycingly we Subiects all doe sing FINIS A new Song of the strange liues of two yong Princes in England who became two Shepherds vpon Salisbury Plaine and after restored to their former estates To the Tune of the Merchants man IN Kingly Stephens raigne Two royall Dukes there was That all our other English Lords for greatnesse far did passe The one of Deuonshire namdâ— that had a daughter faire Which he appointed at his death to be his only heire And her in loue commits Unto the Cornewall Duke Whom he with tendernes and care most kindly vndertâ—oke The promise being made The Duke of Deuonshire dyes And all that Cornewall vow'd to doe he afterwards denies Yet well he educates the Maid That Maudlin she was growne The fairest Lady vnder Heauen for beauty being knowne And many Princes sought for loue But none might her obtaine For couetous Cornewall to himselfe the dukedome sought to gaine So on a time Prince Raymond chanc't This comely dame to see With whom he fell so deepe in loue as any Prince might be Unhappy youth what should he do She still was kept in mew Nor he nor any of his friends admitted to her view One while he melancholly pines Himselfe with griefe away Anon he thinkes by force of Armes to win her if he may Untill at length commanding loue Became to be his Iudge And changâ—d
him soone from Lordly state into a kitching drudge And so accesse had he good Prince Her purpose to bewray But still faire Maudlins answere was she husbandlesse would stay Mean while her Gardiant beat his braines Her dukedome to atchiue Nor caring wat became of her so he by her might thriue And so resoluing that she should Unto some peasant wed And Raymond then supposâ—d a drudge should stand him in that stead But Maudlin marking his intent Unkindly takes that he Should bar the noblest match from her thus for a base degree The Lady shifting cut of dorâ—â— Departed thence by stealth Then thus with basenes for a match that might haue liu'd in wâ—alth When Raymond heard of her escape With sad and grieâ—eâ— heart He left the pallace of the Dukâ— and after did depart Forgetfull of himselfe and birth His country friends and all And minding onely her to seeke that thus had prouâ—d his thrall Nor meanes he after to frequent The court of stately townes But liu'd with pinchings cares and griefe among the country grounds A brace of yeares vpon that plaine Neere Salisburie that lies In great content with feeding flockeâ— a sheepeheards life he tries In hope his loue thereby to wast But then began againe Withâ—â— his heart a second loue the worser of the twaine A country wench a Neatheards maid Where Raymond kept his sheepe Did feed her droue with whom this prince in loue was wounded deepe Where sitting on the downy plaine And hauing small to do These sheepeheards there in friendly sort thus plainely gan to woe I know faire maid quoth Raymond then And thou aswell as I No maid there is that willingly with maidenhead would dye The Ploughmans labour hath no end And he will churlish proue The tradesman hath more woâ—ke inhand then doth belong to loue The Merchant venturing abroud Suspects his wife at home A youth will still the wanton play an old man proue a mome Then choose a sheepeheard honny girle Whose life is merriest still For merrily he spends his daies thus on the faire gréene hill And then at night when day is done Goes home from thence betime And in the fier turnes a craâ— and sings some merry rime Nor lackes he tales whiles round about The nut-drowne bowle doth trot And sitteth singing care away till he to bed be got There sléepes he soundly all the night Forgetting morrowes cares Nor feares the blasting of his corne nor vttering of his wares And this I know full well faire Lasse More quiet nights and daies The shéepeheard sléepes and wakes then he whose cattle he doth graze A King I see is but a man And so swéet Lasse am I Content is worth a Monarchy and mischiefes shoot ful hye As late it did vnto a Duke Not dwelling far from hence Who had a daughter saue thy selfe on earth the fairest wench With that good soule he stayd and sight Speake on quoth she and tell How faire she was and who she was that thus did heare the bell She was quoth he of stately grace Of countenance most faire No maid aliue for beauties prize may well with her compare A Globe-like head a golden hayre A forehead smooth and hie A seemely nose on either side did shine a graish eie Two rosie cheekes and ruddy lips White Iuory teeth within A mouth in meane and vnderneath a round and dimpled chin A snow-white necke with blewish vaines To make her seeme more faire Yea all her body framd so fine that earth had none more rare For life for loue for forme and face None fairer was then she And none but only she alone so faire a maid could be I knew the Lady well quoth she But worthlesse of such praise But credit we no sheepheard thou thy speeches so be wraies With that he wept and she was woe And both did silence keepe And equally perplext in loue they sate them downe to weepe In sooth quoth he I am not such As sâ—eming I professe To be a princes sonne by birth my liking shewes no lesse In Scotland is my fathers court And Raymond is my name With Cornewals duke I liu'd in pomp till loue controld the same And did this Lady dearely loue Though she not loued me But all that loue is wasted quite and now I die for thée I grant quoth she you lou'd her well If that your loue were such Yet thinke of me your second loue in loue to be as much Your twice beloued Maudlin heere Submits herselfe to thée And what she could not at the first the second time shall be In fortune not in person chang'd For I am still the same In heart and mind as chast and true as first to me you came Thus swéetly surfetting in ioy They tenderly imbrace And for their wished wedding day found fitting time and place And so these louely princes both Each other did befriend Where after many a hard mishap there loues had ioyfull end FINIS A Song of the deposing of King Richard the second and how after many miseries hee was murthered in Pomphret Castle To the tune of regard my sorrowes WHen Richard the second in England was King And raigned with honor state Sixe vncles he had his Grandfathers sons King Edwards that ruled of late All Counsellors noble and sage yet would he not heare their precepts deare So wilfull he was in this his young age A sort of braue gallants he kept in his court That traind him to wanton delight Which parasites pleased him better in mind then all his best Nobles and Knights Ambition and auarice grew so great in this land that still from his hand A masse of rich treasure his parasites drew His péeres and his barons dishonored were And vpstarts thus mounted on hie His commons sore taxed his cities opprest good subiects were nothing set by And what to his Coffers did come he wantonly spent to please with content His flattering vpstarts stil sporting at home When thus vnto ruine this kingdom began To fall from the highest estate The Nobles of England their Princes amisse by parliament soone did rebate And likewise those flatterers all they banisht the court that made but a sport To sée this so famous a Kingdome to fall But after these galltaÌ„s disgraded were thus King Richard himselfe was put downe And Bullenbrooke Lankasters noble borne Duke by pollicie purchast his crowne Thus ciuill warres héere begun that could haue no end by foe nor by friend Till 7. kings raignes with their liues were out run But Richard the breeder of all these same broyles In prison was wofully cast Where long he complained in sorrowful sort of Kingly authority past No Lords nor no subiects bad he no glory no state that earely and late Upon him attending had wont for to be His robes were conuerted to garments so old That beggers would hardly them weare His dyet no comfort at all to him brought for he fed vpon sorrow and care And from prison to prison was sent