séemed so straunge and so greatly amazed him that he stoode in doubt a great while whether he saw her in deede or else dreamed that he saw her but when he came to himselfe againe and knew for certaine that it was she he said vnto her Alas my deare art thou yet aliue it is long since that I hard report that thou was lost neither could it be knowen whether thou weÌ„test or what was become of thée This said weping bitterly he imbraced and kissed her a thousand times together Then did Constance tell him of all her aduentures and how courteously the good Lady had delt with her from time to time after which and diuers other talke that they had together he departed from thence and going to the King his Maister aduertised him of all that had happened to him and his frend Constance crauing leaue of him to marry her according to his countrie maner The King greatly marueling at the matter sent for Constance who confirming all that Martuccio had reported he said vnto her Now truly faire vigin thou art worthy to haue him to thy husbande for whom thou hast taken such paines and passed so many perils wherefore bestowing many large gifts vpon them he gaue them leaue to do whatsoeuer they thought good Then Martuccio very liberally rewarding the Lady for the great beneuolence that she had vsed towardes Constance in her aduersity with the Kings licence tooke leaue of all his frends in that country with Constance and Chereprise tooke shippe and returned very rich to Lippare where they were so chearefully receaued of all their frendes who neuer thought to haue seene them againe that it is not possible to declare the excéeding ioy that this seconde méeting did bring to euery one of them To conclude Martuccio and Constance to their great comfort and contentment beinge solemnelye married euer after duringe the tearme of their life enioyed their loue together as they ought without any impediment or let to their deserued pleasure The complaint of one in misery THe day séemes long to them that dwel in dole and short the time to such as liue in ioy The sickmans griefe ful litle knowes the hole so much delight doth differ from annoy That th one doth cause in man desire to die thother stil to liue continually What man would wish to liue that liues in woe and in delight who would desire to die Since that by death an end of grief doth grow and death of ioyes depriues vs vtterly Of worldly ioyes for only so I meane of which we see death doth depriue vs cleane Wherby not all olde prouerbes true I finde for old said sawes do say that life is swéete But death is more desierd of noble minde then life to leade for liuing farre vnmeete Which loathed life doth make me thus to crie I liue too long come death and let me die A Louer fancied but not fauoured of Fortune MY mourning minde doth craue some sweet delite and fancie fame would lend me some I see But fortune frownes and sendes me foule despite and care doth kepe all comfort quite from me Such passions strange doe stil perplex my mind as I despaire of any ease to find But let me sée I must not yet despaire Dame fortunes wheele may happen â—ourne againe When stormes are past the weather may be faire and pleasure comes vnlookt for after paine Things at the worst the prouerbe saith will mend why should not then my sorrowes haue an end But old said Sawes are not yet scripture all for thinges at worst are past all mendinge quite To pininge hartes all pleasure semeth small what mirthe can doo the pyâ—ing harte delight When fates do frowne and fortune is our foe â—ought can be thought to rid the mynd of woe The nature of the Larke described THe little Larke that in the ground is hatcht and there bredde vp till fethers make her flye No sooner she a flight or two hath catcht but vp she mountes vnto the lofty skye Where if she sée Sonne shine and weather fayre how then for ioy she twittles in the ayre But if she sée the winde beginne to blow it poure downe raine and tempestes do arise Within a bush she kéepes her selfe full lowe where prety wretch close to the ground she lyes Vntill such time as all the stormes be past and then againe she geuâ—th her vp in hast Which plainely shewes the nature in the Larke is still to séeke to mount to loftie skie And though perhaps you now and then may marke a kistrell kite to make a flight so hye Yet all things waide if eache thinge haue his right a larke will far be likde aboue a kite The hawty mynde how it disposeth it selfe WHat hill so hye but litle emmets clyme what pretious perle but pore by trauel gaine What thinge so hard but is atchiud in tyme what pleasure such but may be got with payne What doubte so great but hope may men assure see more what heauen but prayer may procure The heauie Asse both kepe the valley still the clownishe coultes do loue the Country best When hawtie hartes do clime the highest hill and gallant mindes do séeke in courte to rest The cowarde dreades and in dispairs doth dye when boldest bloodes by hope do clime full hye Then let my harte goe clime the hyest hill and leaue the valley for the countrie Asse My mynd in courte shall séeke by trauell still to finde a pearle which farre all pearles doth passe My hope shall rest vpon a princely minde by helpe of God some heauenly grace to finde Loathing his life he wisheth for death WHat greater gréefe then tormentes of the hart which dayly grow by troubles of the minde And what such ioy as sodaine ease of smart which long time sought full hard hath bene to finde What heauen on earth with lucky loue to dwell then luckâ—les loue againe what greater hell But how fares he that féeleth no delight what world is that where nothing is but woe What woe to that which worketh such despight as makes a man no kinde of comfort knowe What life leades he that dayly cries to die far worse then death loe such a life lead I Then let me thus conclude my tale in briefe I am the man that only may lament A lothsome life that finde no ease of griefe nor hopes for help vntil my dayes be spent And sadly so I end my solemne song Come come good death I dying liue too long Hanging betweene hope and despaire he calleth for helpe TWixt chearefull hope and comfortles despaire straungely perplext ful sore amasde I stand Hope seemes to shew the weather wil be faire and darke despaire sayes tempestes are at hand Venture says hope despaire doth bid me slack hope prickes me on despaire doth pull me back Haue wel says hope despaire doth bid me doubt trust me says hope despaire says hope is vaine Shrinke not says hope despaire cries not to stout labour says hope
vertue gone and all good dealing dead Then let me seeke to doe as others doe by subtile sleights to creepe in credite too What haue I saide shal I by subtile â—leight séeke credite no my hart such dealing hates My troth hath vowd for to detest deceit such meanes are best for such ill meaning mates As credite seeke vnto so vile an end as wisdome findes a foe of such a friend And for my selfe since that I know indéede that vertue gaines the greatest good that is Although with some it stande in little steade yet with the best it thryueth not amisse I craue of God though here my hap be hard by vertue I in heauen may haue reward Loue good and badde STraunge were the life that euery man would léeke more straunge the state that should mislike ech one Rare were the iemme that euery one would seeke and little worth that all would let alone Swéete were the meate that euery one would choose and soure the sauce that all men would refuse Yet such a life and such a state there is such iemme such ioy such meate such sauce and all And if I doe not take my markes amisse by but one worde I could descry them all Which onely worde that shewes them all by name is this worde Loue that plainly shewes the same Who would not wish to leade his life in loue and who so madde to séeke to liue in woe Yet he that meanes the ioyes of loue to proue is like perforce most bitter panges to know In loue such woes with ioyes are ioynde together take t 'one take both or leaue both chose you whether Loue right is rare and worthy to be sought but counterfaite is but a foolish toy Whose vertues rare as rare effectes haue wrought and which mistaâ—e hath wrought as great annoy But right so rare and hard is to be knowne as who would seeke were better let alone Fonde fancies fruites are all the soode of loue whose sause most soure is sorrowes sugred gall Which messe of meate doth in disgestion proue to yeld both minde and bodie comfort small Yet see the spite who of the fruite would eate must suppe thâ— sauce or let alone the meate Another Eh cruell care that cals to minde in vaine the thriftles time that reachles youth hath spent Hadst thou but waighd in pleasures past the paine that present now I doe too late repent Then hadst thou sau'de me from such sorrowes smart as now I sée doe so consume my hart But since at first thou letst me slippe at large to follow wil the worker of my woe Too late alas thou takst me now in charge with secreat sorrowes to consume me so Then leaue me Care or quickly lend me cure least loathed life no longer doe endure What sayst thou Care or canst thou make no way to winne the good that wanton will hath lost Oh then good death doe thou no more delay to kill me thus with careful troubles tost But must I liue then God who knowes my griefe cut of my cares and lend me some reliefe Long haue I walkt to tire my restles minde yet tyred am long since with weary woes And yet though tierd no resting place can finde where I might once my restles minde repose But tyred thus on on must trauaile still till want of rest my wearyed carkas kil Ah wretched walke that hath such weary ende which ende though long would I could finde it yet But fates doe frowne fortune is not my frend and wretched woes haue ouerworne my wit So that in vaine I seeke I see in fine to set at rest this wearye minde of mine I sought for loue but found out foule despight a way that was quite wide from that I sought But since alas I followed follie quight and left the way that trustie reason taught In weary wayes I now must wander stil to see the sorrowes of my wretched will But Ladies yee that leade your liues at ease and are not forcd to treade one step awry Nor passe one foote more then may pleasure please with ruth respecte my wofull treachery And when you fall into your tyring talke with pittie waigh poore Bretons wearie walke Another T Is straunge Madame to see you straunge that stoode so much on tearmes of truth From which so soone to see you chaunge doth shew in you a tricke of youth A trick of youth to take a toy to take a toy and tourne away And tourne away from your sweete ioy from your sweete ioy that would not stray From whom you once could say and sweare not death it selfe should make you start But since you lickt and likd els where your vowed oath is layd a parte And let it lye a parte for me for I my selfe haue vowed too To flie as farre as fast from thee as thou from me canst thinke to doe And so shall either be content thou hast thy wish and I my will VVhereof who first seemes to repent let them bite on the bridle still Another T Is luste that leades your loue awry t is chaunge that makes you check your choise T is fancie makes your faith to fly t is follie makes you false your voice But reckon what you get thereby And put your winnings in your eye T is wanton wordes that winnes your will t is wauering wit that makes you trippe T is double dealing drawes you still t is sorrie meaning makes you slippe But reckon what you get thereby and put your winnings in your eye For luste with loathing once wil reaue and chaunge perchaunce your choise will choke Fonde fancie ofte her fall doth weaue that puts on follie for her cloake But reckon what you gaine thereby and put your winninges in your eye When wanton woordes are tournd to winde and wauering witte hath wrought your woe Then dooble dealinge you shall finde and sorry meaning both your foe And counting then your gaine thereby you may put winninges in your eye The frutes of ielousy DAme Procris Don Cephalus old Ouid tels the tale were lincked fast in loyall loue as maried man wife And blisfully they lead their liues deuoyde of any bale till Ielousy threw in a boane the roote of all their strife He gaue the first occasion and subtillie he sought disfigured to prooue her truth corrupting her with gold To vnderminde her chastitie this â—aight her loue hath cought for where the batterie is so hoat weake women cannot hold He blameth her inconstancie she blusheth at her fall and for to shrowde her self fro shame she frames her self to flight Thus banished she bides abroad til weried therwithal he cald her home and reconcil'd he doth forgeue her quight In profe of this attonement made on him she doth bestow a dogge a darte of sundrie sorte excelling in their kinde The dogge he mist no chase in hunt the darte it mist no blow a man might seeke the world for such yet not their matches finde In concord thus continuing Don Cephalus doth vse to
come at call And I as faithfull as the rest or any one amongst them all The day as yet hath lothsome beene in which my seruice hath beene tride The loyaltie that I liue in and constant harte wherein I bide The surging seas the flashing flouds are here at barre my trothe to proue The craggie hilles the desarte wooddes if they coulde speake would shew my loue My tongue my penne my hande my harte were euer bente to doe your will And I not minded for to starte but so for to continue still Yet all this trothe which I doe owe you seeme but little to regarde The faithfull loue which I did sow doth yealde disdaine for my rewarde But since my chaunce doth so befall I must of force this loue refraine As good to leaue as to lose all if griefe be all that I shal gaine Sith then for that I longe and sue some others haue for little coste T is time to leaue and say adue shake handes with me and farewel frost Another I May and I may not I would but I cannot For makinge of strife If I might as I may not I woulde doe as I doe not But if that I shall not Then farewell my life But yet I doubt not Neither dispaire I not If you denye not My lawfull request While you dissemble not Smile on and spare not More pleasure I aske not Then you to loue best A Louer forsaken despayreth MY sences are not yet so dull as you perhaps suppose they be For I can spie and marke at full the craftie sleightes you vse with me And time wil come ere it be longe I may requight you of this wronge For though I winke I am not blinde through little holes the day I spie Your subtile secreate I can finde wherewith you thinke to bleare mine eye And yet I seeme to slumber still when that I see against my will I taste alas the more my payne the brackish teares as salte as brine That trickling on my chéekes remayne distilling from my blubbered eyne So much you féede me with this taste that life and all therewith you waste I heare and so doe many moe your nipping frumppes and taunting toyes And where you blaze them well I know among your youthfull Courtly boyes Which when I heare I would that death woulde come and stoppe my gasping breath I smell my loathsome carryon coarce with carping cares tournd now to dust In thee remaynes yet no remorce but beastly stil liue as you lust Like smelling hounde I vent thy trace and can foote out thy vaulting place I feele the priuie grieping nippes wherewith you purpose me to kill Who lookes for ought at sower slippes but choakiug fruite that soone will spill I feele you teare and rent my harte though vndeserued for my parte I see that death his browes doth bende I taste all paynes that one may haue I heare the bell biddes make an ende I smell the dampnes of my graue I feele and so I will conclude that all my loue you doe delude The praise of his Ladie WHat man can keepe in silence long the beautie of so faire a dame Or who can holde or stay his tongue from blasing out her worthy fame Though lande and life thereon did lie I tell you trothe it is not I. Whose beautie when I seeke to blase I see the dulnes of my witte Yet doth it nothing me amase good will enforceth so to it And I am vrgde against my will to shew the bluntnes of my skill Her comely face who list to vew with all the features of the same Must needes her tearme if he say true a Goddes and no earthly dame For Helen she doth passe as farre as doah the sunne the shining starre Beholde her body straight as line her armes so tirmme so longe so smll Her handes so neate so white so fine her fingers longe and straight withall That you woulde easly iudge with me the like of her vnborne to be I needed not if she were here with poynted wordes to praise her grace Nor to display her fauour cleare with all the beautie of her face I wish this rowme she did â—â—pplie then shoulde you sée if that I lie If princockes Paris were aliue and choyse of damsels had at will Disposed once againe to wiue his wittes I know were not so ill To leaue vnchoase this Princely peece for all the passing gyrles of Greece Not This be braue that was sometime a Louer vnto Piramus Lucretias fauour for to finde wherewith she coyde Tarquimius But she doth farther both excell then I am able for to tell In fine if equally you woulde each parte in her with iudgement way By true constrainte confesse you should and thereof here my lyfe I lay It were not now in natures might to frame so faire and trimme a wight To all these graces she hath store of mercy and of perfecte loue No earthly wight I know hath more as tryall telles when truth shal proue I harde when nature sayd and sware she was the Iewel of her ware For madde you might me then condemne if I would thinke my selfe so wise That I were able with my penne to set her out before your eyes Sith wel I know the like by birth as yet did neuer liue on earth Another WAy Lady mine I thee beseech with loyal louing hart In equal ballance my good wil yeeld me my desart Ladie Lay forth in true vnforged tale the summe of all thy suite Euen as my eare shal like or leaue so looke to reape thy fruite Louer Let fauour thine then furnish vp that fancy mine doth craue Lende Louer true for lew of loue the guerdone he should haue Ladie Truth lies not alwayes in the shew that glisters in the eine Trust asketh further triall still and triall asketh time Louer I caste my gloue to him that dares my loyaltie disproue A better proofe in alder yeares was neuer gin for loue Ladie Young hote lusty bloods seekes thus their vowed trothes defence â—old ladies craue for milder profes of plighted freÌ„ds pretence Louer My deere if boistrous words offende thy virgins melting brest Know here what proofe my Lady loues that likes her louer best Ladie Experience though it neuer learnd my greenish yeares to loue Long since hath taught that tract of time this trustines doth proue Louer Except I sue serue thee then while lungs shal lend me breth Let all the ill that harte can thinke procure 〈…〉 deth Ladie Aske then and haue as thou deseruest so looke for thy desire Nâ— shall my bitter nay denie if iustly you require Louer I care not Ladie for thy coyne I craue no Iunos golde Nor Pallas prudence doe I seeke my Venus loue I wolde Ladie Endeuoure thy behests to keepe thou needes no longer sue While Lettice liues Wil shal not wante if he continue true Great thaÌ„ks for this great grace I yeald god in heauen thee giue Expence of Nestors yeres on earth then
deere quoth he the price amasde the elfe For two pence halfepeny he agreede at last and hangs him selfe Le home THis geare beares pricke and price my girle of all that ere I sée La feme The pricke for me sir I crie first the price I leaue for thée Corpus opes animam formam vim lumina scortum Debilitat perdit necat aufert eripit orbat The bodie wealth the minde fourme face and sight a whore Doth weaken leese kill race and steale and eke depriueth sore A Gentlewomans poesie YOung lust of loue in hoarie lockes on Ladyes loynes lay lasye knockes Olde beldames then doe you receaue the cripple knights young Ladyes leaue Aungels MIne aungels stil they be so fledge they flie or els in shippe they floate with puffed sayles Or with their legges they leape and runne awrie or driuen away by Dragons with long tayles Legges winges and shippes the deuill in dragons shins To beare away mine aungels neuer linnes A Riddle SCâ—lere vehor materna carne vescor quaero patrem meumâ— Matris meae virum vxoris meae filium Foule is my faulte that feede my fill and gorge on mothers bowels still With busie care I seeke my Sire my mothers husbande I require And such a one that man must be as is the sonne of wife to me Money still restlesse GOod money be demourant with me stil and then thou shalt be pendaunte in my purse But if thou wilt be volant at thy will or coorraunte els thy harbore will be worse Voussera still incloased in my chest whereas thou runst abroad sance any rest A fantasticall passion MY vayne is done to write in prose or verse For why I see my wittes beginne to faile Full faine I would a woefull tale reherse but sorrow so my sences doth assaile That I am forcde to say and ende in briefe I cannot wright I am so full of griefe A birde to a birder A Fowler snarlde a little birde with lymed bushe of late To whome for life libertie the prettie fowle doth prate She begges her raunsome at a price and promiseth for pay Three iewels riche The birder then so biddes her flie away Escaped thus now list quoth she Hereafter holde thine owne Trust not to much nor take no care for that which heÌ„ce is floeâ— Henceforth if thou applie thy selfe to rule thee by these three No little fowle as I shal make so greate a foole of thee The abuse of the worlde THe mournefull minde the ouerwhelmed brayne the wittes bewitchd that wearyed are with woes The pensiue harte that pines away in payne the troubled thoughts whome thousande cares enclose Doth stil I see consume my carkase so as nought but death can ridde me of this woe Long haue I hoapde too longe I finde in vaine and all in vaine it is I finde too late That pittie woulde procure some ease of payne but pride is full pufte vp with deadly hate Disdaine is growne so great with beauties grace as humble suites are all thrust out of place Humilitie is thought a sillie slaue deserte is deemde a peeuishe painfull drudge Truth thought deceate and flatterie no knaue crafte credite gaines good dealing may goe trudge This all too late to my despight I finde which makes me thus to waile and mourne in minde The Author troubled with hope and despaire TWo thinges there are that trouble much my minde the one is hope the other is despaire In hope my harte doth heauenly comforte finde and peeuish dread my pleasures doth impaire Hope to good happe doth geue me vp amayne Despaire as fast doth flinge me downe againe I hope the best and yet doe dread the worst which wretched dread sayes hope is all in vaine And hope biddes me account that dread accurst that lets my helpe my heauenly wish to game And hope assures that reason doth require although despaire deny me my desire Therefore I hope although withall I feare because I hope my hope wil banish dread Which makes despaire both day and night to beare my tossed braines within my troubled head This passion straunge twixt hope and feare I finde is that which longe hath much perplext my minde The Author troubled with loue and hate TWo things there are that much torment my mind the one is loue the other deadly hate The force of loue doth make affection blind and blinde desire doth set my wittes at bate They beate my braynes to make what meanes they may I finde in fine to worke mine owne decay I like not loue againe I loue not hate yet loue or hate I needes must take the one The choice is harde which were the better state and happy he could let them both alone For he that knew them both as well as I woulde lothe his life and gladly wish to die Loue ofte breedes hate whome luckles lots ensue and foule despight doth sore consume the harte Which seekes reuenge that honest mindes doe rue when conscience pricks doth cause repentant smarte This for my selfe as once before I sayde hath made my minde and senses so dismayde And yet alas I cannot choose but loue yet hate my selfe to see my fonde desire But cannot get my fancy once remoue that in my harte hath kindled hatefull fire But must of force my wretched minde content to liue in griefe vntill my dayes be spent Another THe longer life the more offence the more offence the greater payne The greater payne the lesse defence the lesse defence the losse of gayne The losse of gayne long life doth trie wherefore come death and let me die The shorter lyfe lesse count I finde the lesse accounte the sooner made The counte soone made the merryer minde the merrier minde doth thought euade Shorte life wel spent the same doth trie wherefore come death and let me die Come gentle death the ebbe of care the ebbe of care the floud of life The floud of life the ioyfull fare the ioyfull fare the ende of strife The ende of strife for that wish I wherefore come death and let me die Another MIstrust misdeemes amisse whereby displeasure growes And time delayde findes friends afrayde their faith for to disclose Suspecte that breedeth thought and thoughts to sighes conuarte And sighes haue sought a flood of teares where sobbes doe soake the harte This harte that meanes no harme must féede on sorrowes all Vntil such time in please the iudge the truth in question call Though cause of great mistrust before the iudge appeare My truth and mercy of the iudge I trust shal set me cleare Reporte thus runnes at large my truth for to detecte Yet truth in time shal trie it selfe and driue away suspecte Beleue not euery speech nor speake not all you heare For truth and mercy of the iudge I trust shal set me cleare Another WHat watch what woe what want what wrack is due to those that toile the seas Life led with losse of paynes no lacke in stormes to winne much restles ease A bedlesse boarde at
heard that he was dead desperately put her selfe all alone in a barke which being transported by the winde to Suse in Barbary From thence she went to Thunâ—s where finding her frend Martuccio aliue and in great auctoritie she bewrayed her selfe vnto him who marrying her shortly after returned with her very rich to Lippare Wherein is plainly set forth the force of loue and the stedfast affection of those that loue faithfully with a perfect example of the ficklenes of fortune who neuer abideth custome but euery day altreth her estate aduaunsing one and ouerwhelming an other and somtime greatly abasing them whome she mindeth to bring to a better state NOt farre from Cicilia there lieth a litle Iland named Lippare the inhabitants wherof are chiefly maintained by marchaundise nauigation In this Iland a virgin of verie good parentage named Constance was borne and brought vp who for her beawtie and vertuous behauiour was well beloued and greatly desired of many in mariage but specially of one Martuccio Gomitto a comely and courteous young man not very welthy but well skilled in the arte he professed to whom this virgin did likewise beare so good affection that she neuer thought her selfe well without his company wherof when Martuccio was assured purposing to make her his wife he demaunded her fathers good will which he denied him saying he would bestow his daughter vpon one that should be well able to maintaine her to the end she might be a comfort to him in his old age Martuccio greatly grieued to sée him selfe reiected and in a maner despised for his pouertie prepared a litle vessell and furnishing it with all things fit for his purpose hauing also drawne diuers of his frends and kinsfolke to take parte with him he made a vow neuer to returne agayne to Lippare till he were rich wherefore departinge from them he began to practise pâ—racy on the borders of Barbarie pilling and spoyling all that he found too weake to resist him wherein fortune was very fauorable vnto him if he could haue taken the time whilest it serued But he and his companions not contented that they were in short time become very rich in séeking to get more they were all taken by certaine Saracins who shutting them vp vnder their hatches caried them to Thunes where they were committed to prison and long after kept in great miserie whereupon newes was brought to Lippare for certaine by many credible persons that all they that were in the litle barke with Martuccio were drouned Which Constance hearing who was grieued without measure at his sodaine departure she greatly lamented amongst the rest and determining to liue no longer because her hart would not serue to make away her selfe by any violent meanes she sought to find some new necessity to hasten her desired ende For which purpose going one euening forth of her fathers dores towardes the sea side she found by chaunce a fisherbote in the hauen somwhat distant from the other shippes which by meanes that the owners were newly arriued was furnished with mast saile and oaers which Constance perceauing presently entred into it and hauing a litle skill in nauigation as most of the women of that Iland haue she lanched into the déepe and casting ouerbord the oaers and rudder and all things else wherewith the bote might be guided hoised her saile and committed all to the mercy of the winde thinking it would either ouerwhelme the bote being vnbalaced and without a pilote or else driue it vpon some rocke and so breake it all to peeces and so being vnable to auoide the daunger when she would must of necessity be drowned In this mind weping bitterly she wrapped her clothes about her head and layd her downe vnder the hatches But it fell out coÌ„trarie to her expectacion for the gentle Northwest wind did blow so full and freshly that by the next night after she went a bord the barke it brought her within a hundred myles of Thunes into a hauen neare to a towne named Suse The young virgin felt not whether she were on land or in the sea for whatsoeuer happened she neuer lifted vp her head nor neuer thought to lift it vp againe By good happe as the barke stroke vpon the shore there was a poore seaâ—aring woman hard by laying forth her fisher mens nets to drie in the sunne who marueiling greatly to see it runne on ground with full saile and thinking that the fishermen were a sléepe within she went a bord the barke and finding no body there but this poore desolate virgin that was theÌ„ fast a sleepe wondring greatly at so straunge a case and perceauing by her garmentes that she was a Christian she called her diuers times so loude as she could and when she had waked her she asked her in Latin howe it was possible for her to come thither all alone in that litle bote The virgin hearing her owne country language doubting that some contrary blast had brought her back againe to Lippare started vp sodainlye and looked rounde aboute her But not knowing the countrie and yet séeing her selfe on land she asked the poore woman where she was who aunswering her sayd My daughter thou art now neare to Suse in Barbarie The poore virgin hearing this storie that the had so well escaped the daunger of the seas and fearing to fal into the hands of these barbarous people that would abuse her not knowing what was best to do she sate her downe on the botes side and wept bitterly The good old woman séeing what sorrowe she made greatly pitied her case comforting her all that she might and intreated her to go with her into a litle house she had vpon the shore which at last after long and earnest perswasion she was contented to do and being there the old woman so â—â—nely flattred her that in the end she told her by what meanes she was ariued there The good old woman knowing by this meanes that she had fasted long and must therefore néedes be a hungred set before her such simple fare as she had and intreated her so much that she got her to eate a litle Constance being now somewhat refreshed asked the old woman what she was who aunswered that she was of the Trappany and that her name was Chereprise and serued certaine Christian fishermen dwelling in that countrie The young virgin though she were greatly gréeued yet hearing Chereprise named her mind gaue her straitwayes that she had heard the name before not knowing any cause that should moue her thereunto and began now to hope she knewe not what and did no more desire to dye as she was wont to do desiring the old woman without enquiring any further of her estate to haue compassion on her youth and geue her councell howe she might keepe her selfe from receauing any iniurie which the good old woman promised her to do Wherefore leauing her alone in the house she went with all spéede to take vp her nets
despaire doth shew no gaine Good hap says hope despaire cries contrarie hope bids me liue despaire would haue me die Thus twixt those two at point of death I liue in hope of good yet fearing froward chaunce In you it lyes a happy hap to geue to bring me out of this despairing traunce Oh help me then that thus on knees doe crie Assure my hope or in despaire I die The Louer craueth rewarde for his long and faythfull seruice OH Loue to whome I long haue bene a slaue consider wel how truely I haue serud And blame not him who is compeld to craue the due reward that he hath wel deserud Let trustie troth be euer yet regarded that faithful seruants may be wel rewarded Thou knowest how long that I haue liued a thrall thou knowest againe my true and faithful minde And thou canst tel how landes limme life and all by faith full fast I once did firmely finde To serue a Saint all this thou loue doest know and how my faith I neuer did forgoe And since thou knowest I neuer reapt reward nor euer sought til now reward to craue Sweete loue let now my humble suite be heard and pittie take vpon thy silly slaue And cause the Saint whom I so long haue serud to lend me liking as I haue deserud Oh amour WHat thing is loue a God as Poets wright why Poets faine then how can that be true What is it then some worldly sweete delight oh then their loue why should so many rue It is a griefe then why are men so vaine to ioy in that which doth procure their paine But such a pain as pleasure bringes withal and such a griefe as yealds a heauenly ioy Doth make the heart to think the hurt but smal when fancie rids the minde of selfe annoy And such is sure the panges that louers proue that wretched wights can ioy so much in loue But peace I sée loue is a God in deede who diuers wayes doth worke in minde of man Whose mighty power mans reason doth exceede by working woe or comfort now and than But is it so is loue a power diuine then God of Gods spéede well this loue of mine Nought dare I do therfore oh God of loue I thée beséeche to worke for thy behooue Of a hauty minde THe conquest rare doth greatest glory gaine the strongest fortes by stoutest wightes are won The hardest thinges atchiude with greatest payne do bréede most ease when so the worke is done Well labors he how so his time be spent that for his paines doth reape his hartes content God knowes my hart and what I do desire but what I seeke doth few or no man know The nobler harte the higher doth aspier and for my selfe I cannot stoupe to lowe But if I séeke to clyme a steppe to hye God saue the childe for if I fall I dye In high attemptes the boldest bloudes of all do best preuaile when perill once is past Then lyue or dye or stand or slyde or fall clyme sure I will God set my footing fast And helpe me so to height of my desire that I may wishe saue heauen to clyme no hyer After many misfortunes he craueth death as the ender of all calamities I Longe in iest haue wishd and calde for death when foolishe toyes haue gone agaynst my mynde But dying now at latest gaspe of breath I call to God that I may fauoure find That sinne bréede not my soules eternall paine that dyinge here I may not dye agayne For now I sée the woes of wretched will and now I finde the filthie shame of sinne And now by grace I knowe the good from ill I lothe the state that I haue liued in I see the lyfe of man is but a floure which springes growes fades and dyeth in an houre What are we all but euen a clod of claye first made of earth whence back agayne we must A life vnsure which lasteth not a daye A death most sure to which each one may trust And yet that death yeldes lyfe by heauenly grace which grace God graunt ech one in wretched case And for my selfe God me my sinnes forgiue and God forgeue each one that is amisse Oure sinnes forgeue God graunt oure soules may lyue From wretched worlde with him in heauenly blisse And thus I end my solemne dyinge songe Lord saue my soule I dyinge lyue too longe He proueth vertue to be better then worldly riches THe golde that first within the ground doth growe doth come to stand on top of pillers hye The pretious Pearle that likewise lyes full low the Prince accountes a iewell for his eye What iemme so rare that euer yet was founde but that at first did growe out of the grounde Then when you see your pallace trimly deckt straight cal to minde from whence that decking came And to the ground haue presently respect who by Gods help did first bring forth the same And thinke the iemme that makes the brauest show ful rough at first within the ground did grow The man whose minde is ful and wholy bent to vertues throne to treade the redy way And meetes mishap ere halfe his iorney spent to lothsome vice to leade him out astray Where is the fault but in a froward wil who goes without the guide of wisdomes skill But what if wit be rulde by sage aduise and then doe chaunce to meete with naked neede It bootes alas but litle to be wise if wealth do want to help to doe the déede Yet wealthy wise who walkes to vertues schoole when he comes there shal see himselfe a foole How should the minde then séeke out vertues throne or els what minde is best to seeke the same The seate is straunge and standeth all alone and vertue she is thought a heauenly dame Which makes me thinke it is some heauenly place which heauenly minde must game by heauenly grace Which heauenly guide God graunt my willing minde with wisdomes skil to seeke out vertues schoole That though wealth want yet wit may wisely finde how long too long that I haue liued a foole And I may see from vertues heauenly way what wanton toyes haue led my minde astray The louer being ouercome is compelled of necessitie â—o sing of sorrow FAine would I write some pretie pleasaunt toy to put away fond fancies out of mind But secret spite so chokes me with annoy as wearied wits can litle pleasure find So that I sée if ought at all I write my song must be of sorrow and despite And sorrowes song who would desire to sing that dolefull dumpe doth lend but small delite And yet the mind which wretched woes do wring can sing no song but smackes of some despite For if of myrth it doth the more disease and solemne songs do litle paine appease Then sadde and swéete since that no song I see which may delite of cheare the heauy hart I can but â—igh let others sing for me no musicke mirth can ease my secret smart
haunt the field with more delight then euer he was wont Dame Procris she that markt it well beginneth now to muse and thinkes it but vnlawfull game her husband went to hūt See see the fruites of ielosie see on what ground they grow on no soyle els I warrante you but such as hat◠a staine Silde seekes the Sire his sonne in ouen but that he first did know himselfe ful ofte to haue beene there this case is too too plaine Vpon a sweete smile SWéete are the smiles in secreat I receaue and secreat sweete is swéetest swéete of all Would God swéete wench thou plainly didst perceaue how by thy smiles I liue deuoyd of thrall Then my sweete soule I know to my delight thou stil wouldst vse swéete smiling in my sight For if swéete hope yeald me such swéetnes still my fancie swéete for foode wil neuer sterue I can but yeald swéete thankes for swéete good will and sweetely séeke such sweetnes to deserue And could my wish once winne my sweete desire soone should I reape the swéete I would require Which sweete request is to thy sweete content by thy sweete will to worke my sweetest wish Which wish so sweete my sweete so sweetely ment is by sweete baite to catch so sweete a fish Which baite so sweete is loue I lay for thee and thou the fish I seeke to draw to me Which sweetely let thy fancy feede vpon and thou shalt finde so sweete a kinde of baight as by my hooke of hope I thinke anone to draw thee vp by lines of sweete delight And thus my sweete I swéetely angle still till my sweete loue hath caught thy sweete good will An inuectiue against loue WIth ue that see my loyall harte graunt my desire enioy his due desarte That all the world may wel be warnd by me to shun such mischieues as themselues may sée Let Poets fayne and tell what tales they list the troth is this loue growes in deede of lust First looke then prate and so forsooth they kist and then you know what further follow must Which to obtaine yet better be without how wittes must worke to bring this geare about Loue is in déede a naturall instinct which first doth grow but by view of the eye Which moues desire to passe beyond precinct and so doth bréede a secreate malady So loue is then a naturall disease and doth in déede to nature little ease The law of loue instruckes no more but this truely to serue the lady whome we loue To prooue each meane to please a misteris whome euery toy may to displeasure moue It is I finde a flatteringe kinde of arte which with deceit will fraught the truest hart And if it be as learned fathers finde it is a fire that doth consume the harte A welcome wounde vnto the wanton minde a pleasaunte poyson bréeding deadly smarte And if in loue be such a state to proue happie is he that neuer falles in loue And for my selfe I solemnly protest See see the fruites of ielosie see on what groun◠〈…〉 on no soyle els I warrante you but such as hath 〈…〉 Silde seekes the Sire his sonne in ouen but that he first did know himselfe ful ofte to haue beene there this case is too too plaine Which since I doe by true experience proue I hate the nature state and lawe of loue He craueth speedie loue or speedie death OH care leaue of to tire my restles minde come comforte come reuiue my dulled spright Flie fancie flie or els some fauoure finde cease sorrow cease loue lende me some delight Auaunte despaire oh helpe me hope in haste happe helpe my hope least life no longer last Drawe neare delight cheare vp my heauie harte packe from me paine away vile wretched woe Swéete heauenly ioye come helpe my secreate smarte oh ruthe relieue the wretch that sorrowes so Griefe get thee gone let pleasure take thy place hence vgly death for I must liue a space Mistres deare dame sweete soueraigne my ioy the Saint I serue the comforte of my care My hope my healpe my mirth in all annoy my loue my life my ioy of ioyes that are Oh saue my life that thus on thée doe cry lende me thy loue or let me quickly die My faith hath vowde to foyle all false suspecte and will wil worke in spite of enuies face Trothe is the othe which I cannot neglecte that loue should finde to gaine his ladies grace Oh Gods of loue that see my loyall harte graunt my desire enioy his due desarte He being tormented with manie passions craueth speedie remedie WHether wil wit or what is reason fled what wretched will hath now bewitchd my brain What rechlesse rage kéepes reags within my head what frantike fitte hath vexd me in ech vaine What mad conceite doth thus my minde molest that tumbling thoughts wil neuer let me rest Worke no more wit till reason rule thy will by sage aduise to stay thy busie braine Suppresse thy rage by sacred wisdomes skill and frantike fits wil flie away againe Let madnes marche into some other minde and séeke thy selfe some quyet rest to finde For liuing thus thy wit doth worke thée woe and braine bewitchd doth breede thee wilfull bale And rueful rage in time wil rancor soe that wil cannot geue eare to wisoomes tale Therfore good will let wit in time take héede least reason lost thou runne starke madde indéede Yet sit not stil for idlenes is ill but call to God to graunt thee heauenly grace That willing wit may worke his heauenly will and troubled minde may finde a heauenly place About this worke goe beate thy busie braine both rest on earth and heauenly ioyes to gaine That wight is bewitched that is subiect to beautie THe griefe is great that neuer findes redresse harde is his hap that findes no happy houre Doleful his doome that dyeth in distresse bewitchd the will that waites on beauties bower Wretched his woes that is bewrapt in loue such griefe happe doome and wretched state I proue For fancie now hath reason put to flight and witles will doth wisdomes wordes disdaine Desire acquaints him selfe with fonde delight and running wit hath got a wanton vaine Selfe will hath sought sage wisdome to beguile and hath in deede deceaud himselfe the while For fancies gaine is losse vnto my griefe and reason fled what rechles race I run My déepe distresse dispayring in reliefe doth tell me plaine my pleasant dayes are done My foule despight doth shew my mourning minde the bitter fruites of fonde delight I finde Repentance rues sage wisdomes small regard and wretched woes doe wanton toyes bewaile And heauie harte lamenteth hap so hard and sorrow shewes that selfe willes sleights doe faile Which makes me sing vnto my dying hower bewitchd is he that waytes on beauties bower Seeke and finde THe prouerbe sayes who seekes shal surely finde shall finde but what not that he séekes I gesse For why my selfe haue sought in sundrie kinde vnto my griefe
to finde some swéete redresse And sure I finde but what for sweete delight the bitter fruites of broyle and dire despight Then who seekes so were better not to seeke or if he séeke were better lose then finde For he that findes vnto his most misléeke will where he findes his burthen leaue behinde And stande content with laboure spent in vaine rather then beare it to his further paine Yet he that seekes to finde out sweete delight and seeking séekes the surest way he may T is tenne to one but he shal méete despight which if he finde he néedes must beare away Or els despight wil driue him too and fro from all delight into a world of woe So that which way so ere he goe to worke to finde the way that leades vnto delight Such enuious hagges shal finde in secreate lurke as stil will seeke to driue him on despight Yet what of this in spite of all despight my minde shal séeke to finde out my delight The louer argueth betweene delight and despight WHen ioyes doe fade and all delight decayes and pinching paine possesseth pleasures place And wretched woe in wearie wofull wayes drawes forth the life in griefe and great disgrace Who then can choose but in his harte to crie adue delight I must in sorrow die Adue deligh oh what a dolefull song why solemne songes serue best for silly soules Then why shrinke I who dying liue too long and daylie heare the howerly carefull knowles The bell of bale ringes out both day and night to bid me die and bid adue delight Yet mindes wil mourne when mirth is changd to â—â—ne and hearts wil yearne to bid delight adue The sowrest life seemes sweete til latest grone many repente and yet repentance rue The fancie likes that breedes the harts despight which makes me singe adue to all delight And yet God knowes it is a sighing song and such a song as greeues me sore to sing But since my Lute is lost I playd on long and sorrow is my onely Musickes string Which runnes betweene the frets of foule despight I am content to sing adue delight Oh miseri amanti WHat greater woe can be then want of wish and what such ioy as to attaine the same A soure sauce doth marre the daintiest dish no greater griefe then that which growes in game What spight to that which pleasaunte sporte procures what sorrow such as man in mirth indures This wante of wishe which worketh deadly woe and being gainde doth breede as great a ioy This soure sauce that marreth sweete meate so this griefe in game this pleasure with annoy This spitefull sporte and mourneful 〈◊〉 to proue is but to leade a luckles life in loue For see the ioyes are woes of louers wish whose gaine yealds losse whose want bréedes wailful woe Whose sauce is sorrow to his daintiest dish whose griefe in game is doubt in yea or 〈◊〉 Whose spight in sporte is ioy amisse conceiud whose mirth in mone is death the minde deceiud Oh 〈◊〉 wish which each way worketh woe oh luckles loue which yeldes such sower swéete oh froward fates that first ordained so that mone with mirth should match so farre vnméete Oh wretch aid me that thus am forc'd to proue the gréeuous ioyes by luckles lottes of loue A Farewell to Fancie FAncy farewell my doating dayes are done my yeares are young but wit is waxen old Reason sayth now my retchlesse rafe is runne and wisdome hath my wanton will controld And tels me plaine that pleasures frutes are paine and worldly thinges are all and some but vaine Kingdomes bréede cares and treasure is but trashe beauty bides not and fauour fades away Frendship bréedes foes loue leaueth in the lash the fayrest lookes when liking doth decay Byting bréedes lust lust losse losse little ease small ease great griefe great griefe no small disease Disease breedes dole dole breedeth doleful care care doth consume consumption day by day Doth feede on flesh till bones be left so bare that loathed life must haue his dying day And worldly death breedes life in heauen on hie to which good life God graunt that I may die The Louer being kaught craueth comforte SWeete soule or Saint I know not which to say whose heauenlie power or heauenly hart at least With onely sight my senses doth dismay as minde amasde can take no hower of rest To thée alas vnknowne this suite I moue comforte thy slaue whom thou hast caught in loue What haue I sayd alas by only sight and haue thy lookes then linckt my hart in loue Yea in thy lookes I sée such swéete delight as to desire diuinest mindes may moue Therefore thus cought with onely looke I say a looke I loue and more too as I may But since that may rests only in thy will by lookes to shew my graunted leaue to liue Let me enioy such lookes of liking still that I may vowe my minde shal neuer moue But looke and like and loue that only looke on which to looke such sweete delight I tooke And thus I liue in hope to see the looke that by delight may bid me seeke to serue Nor doe I care what toile I vndertooke by thy commaunde thy liking to deserue So humbly thus this earnest suite I moue doe bid me serue where I am bound to loue The Louer craueth either speedie release or els speedie death DRiuen by desire to séeke out sweete delight I fast am caught in dungeon of distresse Where cloase clapt vp I lie in such despight as reason shewes no way to séeke redresse But captiue like to sit alone and crie adue delight I must in sorrow die Too true I finde who followes on his eye is sildome sure the high way right to hitte For many toyes doe leade the minde awrie except that wil be guyded on by witte For mistes doe fall to dimme the clearest eyne so fell a fogge before these eyes of mine I sawe a dame which did mine eye delight but secreat hurte of loue I could not sée For why her state was set on such a hight as oh I finde no clyming vp for me So to delight in loue I sought the way in whose despight I finde mine owne decay Yet farewel sweete the cause of all my care I blame not thée mine eye did worke my woe But since that loue lendes such vnhappy share the kindest harte to kill with sorrow so I am content in this distresse to lie til loue release or death wil let me die A Louer voweth constancie to his Ladie IN little chestes the greatest iewels lie and smallest heads are thought of greatest witte Clearest the sight that can by vew of eye discerne the marke that hardest is to hitte And happy he that beares his hande so right as hauing seene is sure to hit the whight Your chest I finde the carefull casket is where now doth rest the iemme of chiefe account Your sight of sence hath found by sure aduice the heauenly wight vpon Dianas mount
And you by hap haue surely hit the marke that how to finde may maze a cunning Clarke But who could keepe the key of such a chest or had a head might ioyne with such a witte Or could discerne where his desire doth rest as harte doth wish with happy hande to hit His happe were such as I can neuer craue but wish of God my haples harte might haue So pretty soule a solemne vowe I sweare I would not seeke for iemmes of greater ioy Nor should mine eye be trouling here and there to make a marke of any tysing toy But where I once my leauel lay of loue my hande shal holde and harte shal neuer moue The Louer forsaken and almost dismaide yet through hope taketh comforte FLy fancie flie and let me loue no more what meanes my wil or are my wits bestraught Die swéete desire molest me not so sore but seeke to saue that thou in vayne hast sought For sorrowe shewes the woe of wretched will and force affirmes but frowarde fortune still Where least I like my loue hath lent me losse where most I loue my liking findeth lack What bootes my barke in waues of woe to tosse when sorrowes sandes doe threaten sore shipwrack Such stormes of strife so rife in euery coast as but great happe shew life and laboure lost Yet cowarde wretch wilt thou goe back agayne and keepe thy couch and leaue to seeke delight Make sure accounte no pleasure without payne the sweetest ioyes are gainde through sore despight Then get thee forth in hope goe hoyse vp sayle the winde may tourne and worke for thine auayle Let hardie hope daunte feareful fonde despaire prepare thy selfe to leade a souldiars life Through thicke and thinne by weather foule or faire passe through the pikes and dread no deadly strife And though long first yet when the worst is past the best wil yealde some wished ioyes at last Another I Shrinke to speake since yet I haue no leaue and yet my harte so heaues my tongue to speake As that in deede I plainly doe perceaue with force of fame my very hart stringes breake Which force must be with fauoure ouerprest or els my hart wil neuer sitte at rest Forgeue me wretch if that my wordes offende fancie hath forcde my sillie minde to sue Some lyking let good nature to me sende my minde hath sworne our Ladie seruice due Then if thou lou'st our Ladie or her name regarde my suite graunt fauoure to the same Which fauoure loe I onely craue is this to graunt me leaue to say but what I could Say but my wordes thou wilt not like amisse and thou shalt heare my meaning what I would But til that time as I haue sayd before I must be dumbe and die in dole therefore The louer in sorrow craueth death HOw might I doe to weepe and wayle my fil that dolefull dumpes might soone dispatch my dayes Since sorrowe seekes my carkas so to kill oh doleful doome that so my death delayes I see selfewil hath wrought me such distresse as reason shewes no hope to finde redresse Yet die I must I feele deathes deadly stroake my carkase eke is nie consumde with care Why liue I then since that my hart is broke but liuing thus like one halfe dead I fare Which makes me thus at pointe of death to crie strike home thy darte good death and let me die Patience prolonges the patient in paine comforte relieues but rids not sorrow quight Hope lingers forth a loathed life in vaine fortune is false and frendes no wretched wight The fates doe groane dole is my destinie why liue I then good death come let me die Harde to finde a faithful frende HE seekes vnsure that seekes to finde a friend for faith is fled and frendes are secrete foes A shew of trothe tryes treason in the ende and many pluck a canker for a rose This wretched world is ful of wicked wiles when simple geese the subtile foxe beguiles For stinging snakes lie hid in smoothest grasse and softest streame doth shew the deepest floud No closer craft then in the glosing glasse which flatters much and shewes no perfect good I finde in deede no greater subtiltie then couered is with smoothe simplicitie Then deeme I best eche where to doubt the worst to make account of eche thing by desarte Or ere I choose to make true tryall first by tryall then for to esteeme in harte Thus thinke I best such trusty frends to finde as may content ech faithful meaning minde He craueth content being ouerworne with Loue. OH Loue leaue of to vexe thy silly slaue to bide the broyle some fresher souldyer seeke Thus worne with woes some comforte let me ahue that so thou mayst my seruice better leeke For if that care doe quite my carkasse kill how should I liue to doe thee seruice still Beholde my face my flesh is falne away see how mine eyes sinke hollow in my head My dumpes declares how my delights decay deeme if I seeme more like aliue or dead Let lyking loue some comforte me procure least loathed life no longer doe endure Oh heare me Loue and lende me helpe in hast the time is come that I must liue or die Stay not too long least all too late at last in vayne alas thou lende me remedie I humblie craue my humble suite regarde graunt my desire may haue his due rewarde De contemptu mundi IN depe despite of this vile world I write what is it but a vale of miserie A caue of care a dongeon of despite a place of payne a penne of penurie A sea of sorrowes and a goulph of griefe where wretched hartes doe die without reliefe The wise man wrytes it is a poysoned baight which doth with toyes the godly minde infecte A wanton theese which cloasly lyes in waight to robbe the minde of euery good effecte It is a grounde where onely griefes doe groe and to conclude a wildernes of woe Now why my selfe so ill thereof should deeme some men may muse that see my youthfull yeares Oh softe a while though young of yeares I séeme my youth hath past through many aged bryers But now that I am yet beyonde the bushes I doe not care for all the worlde two rushes Saue that my Prince I honour I protest my Parentes eke and so I loue my friend Set these aside and as for all the rest of loue and liking I must make an ende I hate the worlde and all the toyes therein and longe to sée my ioyes in heauen beginne Maledisant Beuchampe THe tender budde that brauely ginnes to blow while summer showers yeeldes comforte to the roote If that vnwares there fall a sodaine snow no sunné can shine that wel may doe it boote Except it holde but for a day and so It may haue leaue to make a liuely show My selfe the slower that flourisht all too fast while fauour flonge faire weather in my face But now must die my pleasures ouerpast to see disdaine so
key and a locke A bedde and a 〈◊〉 and other such 〈◊〉 A fillet a paste a combe and a glasse A potte and a panne with vessels and brasse And twentie such toyes which here I let passe And yet it doth chaunce most commonly after God sendes vs a childe a boy or a daughter Then must I prouide who so euer begate her Some ragges and some iagges to folde and to wrap her A Nurse and a midwife to holde vp her backe Some spyces to make her a posset of sacke And other such trinkets as these young wiues doe lack Which if that they haue not our loue goes to wracke A cradle a swathbande a pillow of downe A wastecote a biggin to wrappe the childes crowne A wenche for to rocke it with downe a downe downe Or els t is time for me to packe out a towne A possenette and sugar to make the childe pappe A blancket of woollen the childe for to wrappe If this be not gotten such fortune may happe At her first vprysing I beare her a clappe If I marrye a widdow you bid me not care She bringeth all this geare and other such ware Your stocke and your treasure thereby you may spare Enritching your substance to maintaine your fare But yet Sir I pray you remember well this Not one shrow of twentie among them there is Whose children and kinsfolke at any time misse To prowle or conuay away that thinge or this Now hath she a daughter now hath she a sonne Now hath she a Cosin the worlde hath begon I must geue them a ladle a dishe and a spoone Which if I deny them our frendshippe is done And then Sir withall she will clothe her in yelowes And â—uming and â—â—etting she beginnes to be ielious With scoulding and brawling she lets not to tell vs At stues and at tauerns al 's spent on good fellowes She sumes and she frettes she fomes like a bore She sweares she was neuer thus vsed before Ere this time I might haue bestowed my store To geue at my pleasure a little or more If I 〈◊〉 you say Sir she makes me good cheare With caudels and possettes and good double beere For money at all times I can buy this geare What neede I to keepe then a wise all the yeare What neede I to finde one meate drinke and array To keepe one at liuerie by night and by day For when I would dallie with sporte and with play I can meete with a sweeting a snatch and away If once I doe marrie and take me a wyfe To brauling and scoulding I am bounde all my lyfe To â—aunting and vaunting to discorde and stryfe The practise of this thinge is commonlie ryfe I am bounde for to tarrie for her still at home To toyle and to moyle for her all alone Whilest she sittes a feasting with olde mother Ione I must be a drudging for her like a mome All these thinges with other that I coulde resight From wooing and wiuing driue me away quight And I will bestow my sweetest delight With sweete sleepe to passe out the longe drowsie night These maydes be so wanton these widdowes so wood That neither of both will doe me any good These widdowes be withered they drinke vp my blood These maydes be so lustie I le none by the roode And therefore I will till you agree on the one Thus holde me contented to liue still alone The commendation of hope WHo hopeth much and feareth nought at all doth shew him selfe too desperate of minde VVho feareth much and hath his hope but small in such conceate can little comforte finde Who stammering standes halfe hoping halfe in dread assure him selfe shall haue a troubled head Who hopes for nought nor feareth ought at all is rather madde or not of humaine kinde VVho â—lymes by hope and feareth euery fall doth doubtles beare a most vnquyet minde VVho dreads the worst and al wayes hopes the best what euer happe is euer best at rest But he that hopes vpon so sure a ground as sets the spight of foule despaire aparte And to his hope such heauenly happe hath found as yealdes the thing that most contents his harte Let him not boast but geue God thankes for all who helpte him vp and sau'de him from a fall For he it is that helpes the honest harte that geues the hope that neuer needes to feare VVhich findes a salue to euery sodaine smarte and keepes the minde in quyet euery where In him alone mine only hope shal rest this life once lefte in heauen to liue at rest A warning to wanton Louers CEase sorrowe now for thou hast done the deede for care hath now consumde my carcase quight No hope no help nor hap can stande in steed for dolefull dayes doth cut of all delight Yet while I heare the toling of the bell before I die I wright this fainte farewell VVho loues to leade his life in quyet rest beware the worst of what so may befall Abandone Loue feede not on fancies feast least hungrie harte in vaine for comforte call And sorrow then doe so assaile thy minde the witte bewitchd a worlde of woes doe finde And then comes care for to tormente my harte when nought auayles to languish or lament For longe the harte doth pine in secreat smarte before the dayes be quight in sorrow spent This finde I true and for good will I tell ware wanton loue and so I say farewell A fancie I Woulde yet will not yes yes no no why for that my will and woulde doe disagrée For why to worke my would contentedly my wish to will doth wante too farre I sée Which makes me thus against my will to say I woulde yet nill but will when so I may I may why now I may yet may I not for that my may is not such as I woulde Yet what I may full fayne I would God wotte and more would wishe if so be that I coulde Which more might I then would I quickly say I woulde and will and glad in that I may But oh that will his wish cannot attaine and that delight should so desire denie That willing hartes should labour all in vaine when will and wordes doe méete so contrarie Yet what of this I hope to sée the day when that my woulde may finde a willing may A farewell to Fancie FAncie farewell that wroughtst my fonde delight delight adue that wroughtst my deepe distresse Distresse adue that wroughtst my déepe despight Despight adue for death doth lende redresse And death adue for though I thus be slaine in thy despight I hope to liue againe Faire Dames adue whose loue hath wrought my woe and farewel woe that wearyed hath my wittes And farewell witte with will bewitched so and farewell will so full of franticke â—ittes Fransie farewell whose sorce I feele too sore and farewell feeling for I féele no more And life adue that I haue lou'de and loathd and farewell loue that makes me lothe my life Both loue and
〈◊〉 farewell vnto you both twixt hope and feare farewell all foolish strife Follie farewell which I haue fancyed so and farewell fancie that first wroughtst my woe Adue desire for death is harde at hande and yet againe I say adue to death Though loathed life doe in deathes daunger stande yet faith assures when bodie loseth breath The soule in heauen shall liue and fare right wel which makes me crie come death and life farewel Both frendes and foes vnto you all farewell farewell my frendes for frendshippe I haue found Farewell my foes that truth in time may tell when that â—y bones be buryed in the ground That with the worlde I die in charitie and so adue the bell hath done I die And yet once more to death agayne adue for dying thus me thinkes I liue againe My certayne hope showes ioyes that do ensue and hart findes ease of former pinching payne Which makes me thus by certayne prouse to tell faithe feares no death I dying liue farewell Counsaile geuen to a frend WHen gallant youthe hath gone a while at will and folowed that which fancie doth affecte And sées in tyme by proufe of sacred skill What wisdome would that reason should respect He then returnes from former vanytie and treades the pathe to true felicitie When witte doth waye the wanton toyes of will and will doth yéelde to folow wittes aduice And willing witte doth learne by wisdomes skil of perfecte good to knowe the passing price Then worldly toyes are all had in despight and Heauenly ioyes are all the hartes delight When fancie leaues to follow fonde desire and wisdome doth dame fortunes force defie And nature doth but reasones will require and conscience will conceale no trecherie Then if my mynde do not mistake his markes the skye will fall and we shall want no larkes The secrete sute of a louer NOt what I woulde yet would I what I wright not what I meane yet meane I what I saye Not what I mought yet would I what I might not what I can yet will I what I may My spéeche is darke but you perceyue much light then marke my wordes and gesse my meaning right For this you know my tonge so fast is tyde as for my lyfe I cannot yet speake playne Yet do I seeke to haue my mynde descride therby to speake some libertie to gayne For if my tonge might tell my tale in kynde my harte would hope to haue some ease of mynde But oh harde happe my hope his helpe denyes and hope halfe past dispaire doth drowne my mynde Yet reason showes that thou in deede art wise and ruth reportes that I shall fauour find Which makes me thus in midst of my distresse in secrete sorte to sue for some redresse Of sweet contentes WHat aâ—le I wretch or whereto was I borne what meanes my mynd my fancie so to set The greatest iemmes I seme to haue in scorne and daylie séeke the thinge I cannot get The reason is I seeke a thinge to craue which will would wishe but hope can neuer haue What is it welth no many rich I see as many seeke but few or none can haue Bewtie oh no faire ladies many be and t is I saye no common thinge I craue What is it loue tushe loue is but a toye yet faithfull loue is sure a heauenly ioy And therefore Loue I cannot choose but léeke but lyking lookes and lacke breedes discontent And they shal finde that doe such sorrowe seeke that lothed lacke doth luckles loue lamente What is it then whereof I am so faine oh t is contente I seeke but cannot gaine Oh sweete contente what one doth thée enioy who liues contente alas I least of all Content doth breede delight without annoy contente mislykes no fortune that can fall Contente is that which few or none can finde yet must I seeke to set at rest my minde One that had made his full choise MY foolish dayes and wanton lustes be past in vayne you seeke 〈◊〉 me againe Let be your toyes my thoughts are fixed fast Citheria should her selfe but lose her paine Remember not to me wonted delight each sweete so past is now but bitter gall Darcknes I 〈◊〉 that earst I counted light my reason is redéemde from fancies thrall Applie your selues to set some other snare perhaps ye may speede better if ye doe Such woodcockes many in the worlde there are that will be caught I am no pray for you One hath me fast already hers am I Ne will I be anothers till I die A Countrey Carrolle translated out of Belaye A Crowne for Ceres wil I make of euerie kinde of corne With garlandes made of faiâ—e 〈◊〉 boughes I Bacchus will adorne Two pottes of milke to Pales laste I purpose to present That they may heare my humble suite and to my will aâ—ente That Ceres may enforce the ground a plenteous croppe to yeald That Bacchus may the clustred grapes well prosper in the field That Pales so her mantle spread vpon the pleasaunt soyle That grasse and holesome hâ—rbes may grow to quite my painfull toyle The same in another sorte WIth fragrante flowers with eares of corne with leaues that largely grow On euery vine lets garlands make our thankefull mindes to show To Pales Ceres sacred dames and Bacchus last of all Who all our meddowes fields and grounds when we for grace did call With grasse with graine and grapes so filde as they did déeme it best We fearde no heate no hayle no colde for they our labour blest From all that might the grasse the eare or tender braunche offende The cattle birdes or greedie goate that from the hilles descend In summer season in the springe or Authume did not spoile The grasse the eare the sprouting budde but fedde on others soile Let mowiers then make merry now let Reapers all reioyce Let vintners vaunte of their good happe and all exalte their voice To praise the meddowes fieldes and ground that gaue so greate increase And laude their name that wrought this worke els will their goodnes cease Barnes garners sellers so are heapte with hay with corne and wine That neuer earst the like was seeâ—e with any mortall eyine An Epigram out of the same Author THough false Aeneas now be dead Dido laid in graue yet others lefte they in their stead that like coÌ„ditioÌ„s haue Who with the show of marriage rites which is a holy thing do hide their fleshly fonde delights that follie forth doth bring Verses translated out of the foresaide Poet. WIth loue with grace and perfect worthines the powers diuine were compassed rounde about The skie was clad and cloathd in comely sorte with burning rayes of happye heauenly hew All thinges were full of beutie and of blisse the sea was calme the winde was meeke and milde VVhen here below the Paragon was borne whose faire white skinne exceedes the Lillie farre Whose haire like golde doth glister in the sunne whose lippes doe staine the perfecte crimson die
From Phebus beames her shining eyes tooke shape within her brest the heauens themselues haue sowen And through the Gods her name immortal bides Another THe happy braunch to Pallas consecrate the braunche of peace doth beare the name of her Who reaues my sence and in her beutie shrowdes such crueltie as most to Mars belongs Leaue then thou wilfull Dame leaue of I say this louely name or shew thy selfe the like That as thou doest in aâ—l immortal seeme thy name may séeme ordainde by destinie What from the heauens hath been bestowed on thee is nothing straunge nor wonderfull to me Since thou in minde and harte arte Soueraigne and that thine eyes from those that gaze on thée Their bodie harte minde sense and soule doth steale Another THe selfe same night wherein the powers diuine From highest heauens behelde the earth below Loue bente his how to pearce my painful brest And made me subiecte to his Dietie The sacred place from such great crueltie Nor yet the time it selfe could me redeeme This stroake to harte did from her eyes descende Whilest I too much her glorious face behelde I thought at first that Loue had leueled At both alike and that one onely bonde Had equally together ioyned vs both But Loue as blinde and ill aduisde therein Hath let her goe that was the greatest pray Detayning me that 〈◊〉 of least accounte Another AS none may well with fixed eye beholde The glistering beames of Phebus golden rayes So to suruey thy 〈◊〉 passing 〈◊〉 Woulde bleare the eyes and dimmâ— the clearest sight And he that shall with fixed eye 〈◊〉 Thy glorious face so shining as it â—oth Shall finde such â—lâ—arenes will increase his payne And take front him the vse of séeing quite How can my tongue or 〈◊〉 be able then To painte thy praise or yealde thy due desarte That haue no power thy beautie to beholde Which if mine eyes were able to attaine I would pâ—esume to passe the noble birde That vnto Ioue is iustly consecrate My loue shall last THe Soldyars wish drawes on with warres delight the Pilgrimes sporte lyes in his present payne Shippes 〈◊〉 the porte and seekes for seas in sight and I to smile in loue account it gayâ—e Whom while I serue wish sporte and seas I finde with gallante warre with sporte sea roome and winde Sith now this happe is had I ioy to singe what kinde of sea what mates what ship was there How happie chaunce by lotte rulde euery thing the maine saile truth each waue a frendly teare The master Loue him selfe sweete sighes the winde ioyes roade with Oares the ship a merry minde Fast hope at helme did winde the boate aboute and fixed faith stoode vp for middle maste The cable hope which seruant twinde throughout helde gladsome glee with picked anchore faste Beautie discride the rockes till I was past and now beloude I sweare my loue shall laste My loue is paste THe soldior worne with warres delightes in peace the Pilgrime in his ease when toyles are past The ship to gaine the porte when stormes doe cease and I to smile now voide of loue at last Whome while I serude peace rest and loue I lost with greeuesome warre with toile with seas betost But now the brunte is past I ioy to singe what kinde of sea what slaues what ship was there How foolish chaunce by lotte rulde euery thing how error was maine saile each waue a teare The master Loue himselfe deepe sighes the winde cares roade with vowes the ship vnmerry minde False hope at helme ofte turnde the boate about and fickle faith stoode vp for middle maste Despaire the cable twisted rounde with dout helde grieping griefe the picked anchoare fast Beautie was all the rockes but I at last am now twise free and all my loue is past Loue for vertue of longest continuance THe chiefest care we ought to haue is to adorne the minde With beautie such as best beséemes and most accordes with kinde Of greater force this beautie is a Ladies loue to gaine Then that which foolish folke commends and wise men count but vaine The loue of vertue lastes for aye which choice no chaunce can chaunge But loue for luste time turnes to nought and quickly makes it straunge When crooked age doth once creepe in braue beautie bids adue And then those fondlinges all too late their former follies rue But vertue bides in perfecte plight and to the vertuous bringes delight Loues Epitath HEre lyes blinde Loue here lyes the bedlem boy here lyes the God that all the Gods did feare Here lyes intoumbde Cithenas greatest ioy here lyes the bow that Loue was wonte to beare Here lie the shaftes here lie the piercing dartes wherewith erewhile he tamde the stoutest hartes Now is he dead now can he doe no more no signe appeares that he shall liue againe To plague poore soules as he hath done before and pinch their harts with straunge tormenting pain Now is he dead and who the cause but she whose blasing beames blinde all the worlde I see Ofte did he proone and all to none effecte to force his fire to fasten in her brest Her frozen harte did still his flame reiecte and made him muse to see his power supprest Deceaued so he knew not what to say ne coulde he iudge the cause of his decay To proue his fire if it had force or no vnto his winges he put the burning brande The fire tooke holde for needes it must doe so then he too late poore soule did vnderstande His fonde conceate and filde the aire with cries no plaintes preuailde he died and here he lyes At latter gaspe a grieuous sighe he gaue and saide farewell ye faithfull Louers all Now proofe shewes plaine what grieuous pangs ye haue what force my fire what power to make you thrall I finde it now that feltâ— it not before but be contente it shall offende no more If former faultes did merite worthy blame the blame is greate I haue incurde thereby My life must pay my raunsome now with shame A shamefull death I am at poynte to die My glorie gone my bâ—anes consumde to dust you haue your will abide it needes I must In commendation of his Mistresse I Smile to thinke how fonde conceite deceaues the finest wittes To féede them with a daintie baite that choakes them all by bittes How fondly some commende the face and some the smoothie skinne And some preferre in highest place the tender doubled chinne What should I stande to recken vp their trashe and trumpery That drinkes the dregges of euery cuppe and praise it to the skie Let such goe bragge them in the crew of baser minded swaines They neuer came yet where it grow nor paide more then their paines But if my Mistres woulde vouchsafe her beautie to discouer Then iustly might they frette and chafe that so they past her ouer He that triumphes in sweetest blis I know then would repine No man that saw her but would wishe oh