doth destine giue And so with sorrowes breake the hart that hath no will to liue Good fréend quoth she haste not thine end with passions of the minde Hope after hap the world may mend thou maist good fortune finde No sure my glasse of life is runne Death drawes on me so fast I see my daies are almost done life may no longer last My haples yeares and aged bones desires no being heere To graue I go with sighs and grones I buy bad life too deere With losse of blood of time and youth and all that precious is With loyall seruice toile and truth and hope of earthly blisse All in one ballance now goes downe since guerdon get I none Nor no account in Court nor towne now I may hap vpon Adue day light shut close mine eies too long you stare for nought So farewell friends and you be wise for me take you no thought By this our ships were wend about and Cannons gan to rore As they to Brytaine passed out with bounsing shot great store At noyse whereof I wakned straight and calling for my close And saw the Sunne on such a height that sodainly I rose And so put all my dreame in verse would God a dreame it were For many things I now rehearse wil prooue too true I feare FINIS To the right honourable my Lady Puckering wife to the most honorable the L. keeper of the great seale of England GOod Madam strange it may seeme that a meere stranger to your Ladiship â—are aduenture to dedicate any peece of vvorke vvhere bold attempt and labour may be but strangely vnderstood if a greater hope in your goodnes exceeded not the greatnes of my matter but my 〈◊〉 your most honorable husbands bountifull dealings with me of late makes me the bolder because I must be thankful in this presumptioâ—◠〈◊〉 present some acceptable peâ—ce of that small talent God hath giuen me to your good L. as vvell to be knovven of you as to keepâ— me in my L. fauour and though that vvhich I oâ—fer be skarce vvorthy the taking Yet I trust first my seruiceable present hall not be misliked because the receiuing vvell thereof may procure a further peece of vvork better penned such as shall best become me to present as knovveth God 〈◊〉 novv and at all times augment his good gifts of grace in your good Ladiship LOng time in sute and seruice gets some grade Long crauing gaines both crust and crome ye know Long walking rids great ground away apace Long vse of legs makes traueiler easly go Long watching tâ—â—d brings ebbe at length to floâ— So loyall loue and dutie long in vre Full many waies doth great good will procure Whereon good turnes springs out as from a flood Runnes gushing waues that waters euery soile Whose moisture doth both fruit and flower much good And profite bringâ— to Plowmans painefull toile This faire land flood kept barren field from foile For if no deaw of heauen I had found Hot sommers drouth had soone dried vp my ground The fountaine had her course no sooner run With golden streames that cordiall is of kinde But straight began to shine the gladsome Sâ—n That sucker sends to tree to root and rinde The frost did thaw with milde warme westerne winde And all the springs and conduits of the towne Ran Claret wine in honour of the crowne When bill assignd by sute from Prince had past Lord how the world â—lood therewith well content The Clearkes they wrote and fréely laboured fast The seales were wonne when purse no penny spent The waxe was wrought throw grace that God had sent So seale and waxe and all that name I can Came franckly of to me from euery man Lo how hard world by meanes is easie made And mens good wils with tract of time we gaine In spring it sprouts at fall of leafe did fade The grasse grows greene with little showres of raine I reapt the crop and fruit of others paine What néeds more words each place where I did go For Princes grace did me great fauour sho They knew that Court had cleane consumde my youth And plead mine age with pretie pension now If so they thought in déed they gest the truth For youth and age perforce is pleased throw Saue that they bid me make my pen my plow And prooue awhile what printed bookes will doo To helpe old Tom to get a supper too But blest be her that did the dinner giue With too much meat we may a surfeit take Long with good rule and diet men may liue Full belly oft an emptie purse may make He feedeth best that eats for hungers sake Than porcion poore makes men ne proud nor rich Yet one good meale a day doth please me mich Where am I now I speake of liberall men That fréely gaue the seales and all the rest Which déed deserues both thankes and praise of pen For that is all from me they haue possest This course would make the learned Lawyers blest If of poore men they tooke no fee at all Whose wrongs are great and riches is but small To trot and trudge two hundreth miles or more And spend their goods in toyling too and fro And be long pincht with paine and labour sore And then compeld to costly tearme to go Craues great regard of them that conscience know Than wise graue heads that looks through euery cause Defend the poore with fauour of your lawes Their plaints may pearce through highest heauens all Their praiers brings great blessings to your dore Your fame doth rise where they good words let fall For happie are the hands that helpes the poore This sentence should be written on the floore Who can do good to those that stands in need Shall reape much corne where sowne was litle séed When iustice flowes from liberall noble mind Good turns in world wil make men liue like Saints When good cheap law poore silly soules do find The Court is not long troubled with complaints Franke heart goes throw where feeble courage faints Bountie winnes loue and lasts for euer more Who doth great good and little takes therefore The poore are more in number euery where Then are the rich that haue the world at wil Wherefore the more we ought with them to beare Because they liue in lacke and sorrow stil. The Lord that sits on his hie holy hill Lookt lowly down on Lazarus the poore That humbly askt an almes at Diues doore Most precious are the poore to God aboue Though heere below they walke like lambes were lost And one good turne to them doth get more loue Then fortie things we doe for worldly boast Who saues a ship that is with tempest tost And brings the barke where helpe and harbour is For thankful paines shall purchase heauen blisse When that great Iudge shal come to iudge vs all Such as did helpe the poore shal happy be For then that Iudge wil for those people call Who to the poore were alwaies franke
fishing to the Seas Yet many Troutes are caught on little fordes That shallow séeme with other pretty fishe That at the length will make an honest dishe On little brookes men angle safe and dry In leather bootes and dread no drowning there On these rough Seas the least winde in the sky Tipes vp the Barke or brings a man in feare Some haue no hearts with roaring waues to striue Full gréene to sight and vggly to the eie Which on the rockes the silly vessels driue And knocks their Kéeles and makes poore Pilots cry Hale in the saile let goe the bowling mate Now in good faith such soddaine shocks I hate Yet some will thinke I am not setled so But I will séeke to try the Sea againe Why is the Earth so narrow would I know I cannot finde where I may well remaine The world is wide and men must burthens beare That ordaind are vnto no better chance That growes not here takes roote an other where Some shooteth ill yet hapneth by a glaunce To hit their game men ought to doe their best And séeke their lucke and let God worke the rest So for my part I shall likewise procéede And though I bid the Court and world farewell I meane to vse them both as I haue néede But for to say in Court I wish to dwell I minde it not as God me helpe and spéede And for the world his yoke still draw I must But sure I serue him all against my lust For in the same is neither hope nor trust Wherefore my leaue I take as powre I haue From him and his though course of life saith no. A worldling here I must be to my graue For this is but a May game mixt with woe A borrowde roulme where we our Pageants playe A skaffold plaine whereon we reuels make A crooked path a parlous false high way A toilesome soile where we much trauell take Good Reader now doe neither sting nor hisse At any thing that in this verse is plâ—est Where fault is found for fauour mend the misse This rouing rime was slubberd vp in hast And nought thereby the simple writer ment But neither Court nor world could him content FINIS A Tragicall Discourse of a dolorous Gentlewoman dedicated to all those Ladyes that holdes good name precious YOu wiues that wish to liue with worlds renowne And wisely way the worth of precious fame Come heare the voice that giues a woefull sowne Come heare her tale that dare not shew her name Come Countrey youth come noble Courtly Dame And marke my words whose workes in wondring daies With double blotte redounds to my dispraise From tender yeares till twenty two were past I nourisht was at pompe at pleasures papâ— But who can tell how long our ioy shall last For greatest calmes comes oft to thunder claps And swéetest hopes doe change to sowrest haps O tickle time that wanders swift as winde With haire before and bare and bald behind No gripe nor hand can take sure hold of thée Thou flitst so fast and leaues the world at worst Looke what time brings time takes away you sée Good time is blest bad time we hold accorst Time hurts them oft that time did helpe at forst Looke what we haue when youth is most in prime That shall we want in age by course of time My fresh delights doe fall and fade like flowre The blossomes gay from beauties buds are gone Our state of life doth alter euery howre As pleasures passe come sorrowes pacing on The world it selfe is like a rowling stone And on such whéeles our tombling haps doe runne They slide as swift as shadow in the Sunne Whiles carelesse witte doth carry youth about To sports and plaies that doth from pastime rise The merry minde is voide of feare and doubt And all the powres are glad to please the eyes But when wilde head or wanton waxeth wise The waighty thoughts that déepe foresight retaines Brings troubled sleepes and breaks the quiet brains In childishe daies I made no count of chaunce When friends tooke care to match me to their will So hoping long good hap would me aduaunce I kept me frée from wedlockes bondage still But parents wise that had good worldly skill With open checks rebukt the causes chiefâ— The more they stirde the greater grew my griefe As when a sore is rubde and handled hard The lesse it heales because yée touch it néere O Fathers graue if that you tooke regard How that with checks you vse your children déere Or in your moodes you would some reason héere They should be ioynde where they great ioy should haue And you of them enioy the thing you craue But wilfull men that wealth may wrest awry Will force poore babes to marry or to morne What father wil the childe may not deny He hurts his shins against the pricke shall spurne When match is made it is past time to turne When silly Lambe is to the slaughter led The Butchar brags the simple Sheepe is dead And yet in déede twere better children smart And match in time as cause and matter moues Then childrens choise should breake the fathers hart Or bréede debate as wilfull marriage proues Short is the ioy of them that longest loues When want comes on and woe begins to wring For lacke is thrall and slaue to euery thing Loue is not now as loue hath béene of old A gamesome babe to dandle on the knée Loue cares for nought but land and bags of gold That keepes both man and horse in stable frée They haue no witt that other louers be Wealth maister is and porter of the gate That lets in loue when want shall come to late Well as it was my friends could doe no good My fortune bore the sway and ruled all And I full long on will and fréedome stood Till flesh and bloud must néeds to fancy fall And then though hap and worldly wealth was small I lighted where I likte and loued well And where I vowde for terme of life to dwell My choise was likte for many gifts of grace He had though wealth sometime was not at will And for his sake in many a noble place I welcome was and purchast fauour still My candle blasoe like torch on top of hill And for content of minde where loue doth rest Mine owne poore choise might passe among the best Long liude we thus at home and eke abroad When kindred cleane in déede forsooke vs both What burthen fell I helpt to beare the load And glad in world to taste how Fortune goth The minde I had to God and sacred othe Made me refuse no trauaile for his sake Whome of frée will I choose to be my make The Seas we sailde the land we rode about The Court we saw the towne we dwelt long in The fields we walkt the gardens gay throughout We went vnto where many a feast hath bin We could not sincke for hap held vp the chin He prosperd well and looke what God
men findes No salue but grace can heale infected mindes My hollow heart hath lost the hope I had What drops in now doth doubt and daunger bring In husbandâ— cares I spake that made me glad With newfound friends I talke that makes me wring The first good will from vertuous loue did spring The last delite and all that since fell out Began on lust and néeds must end in doubt Now open stréets by Dule flight must I walke And secret nookes and shifts must shadow fleight Except I care not what the world doth talke And mind to frame a crooked matter streight And then though pride holdes head a wonders height Shame pluckes downe heart and makes mee blush at last But well away that signe of grace is past Though in the téeth I haue the bridle got And that I run beyond my riders reach I dare not sing in queere too hie a note For feare of checke and tuter do me teach I play boe péepe least people me appeach I séeme a Saint when diuelish things I meane Yet much adoo I haue to carrie cleane O wretched change that brings repentance oft O bitter sweet whose tast deceiues vs all O poysoned lust that puffes vp pride aloft O gracelesse game full farc'st with sugred gall O tripping trust that swiftly giues a fall O spitefull sport that spends thy youth in shame And brings thine age in horrour and defame O greedy will that gaines but griefe of minde O gnawing worme that frets the conscience still O wicked Art that strikes the senses blind O leude desire more hote than Ethna hill O beastly blisse begun on bold consait And doth bewitch them all that bites the bayte O paultring playe and péeuish pastime vaine O sliding ioy that sinckes where suretie swims O perlous toye and pleasure mixt with paine O Peacocke proude that still fond feathers trims O lustie blood nay wanton lothsome limes That stoupes to filth and costly carrein gaye That giues bad gold and steals good name awaye My merry mates and minsing minions fine Speakes faire a while to winne their leude desire But wilely world can let me starue and pine And for reward can giue a flout or flire So lead mee on and leaue me in the mire And blab all out that hath béen closely wrought O prankes of youth O painted thing of nought O puddell soule that séemes at first full faire O cause of care and source of sorrow sowre O deadly hope and ground of deepe dispaire O pleasant weede and stincking rotten flowre O rauening wolues that doth poore wiues deuoure O smiling théeues that robbs the chastest harte O trayterous tongues that can play Iudas parte You layd your traynes as Foulers laies his nette You bosome Snakes your sting hath me vndone By louing you at length what shall I gette When you me lothe where shall the cast off run Wo worth that wight that woing first begun Curst be the crast that causeth clamours ryes And vengeaunce fall vppon your staring eyes A plague consume your songes and subtell sutes A wildfire catch your combrous knauish braynes A murrein take your foule vntimely fruites A canker eate your handes and azure vaines The Haggs of Hell reward you for your paines Both pen and ynke and all that helpt desire And you your selues I wish in flaming fire Fie on your scroules and Pistells full of lies An Oten strawe for all your stately stiells Your frisled haire and noughtie new-fond guise Your Lordly lookes your simpring shameles smilles Your wanton talke and priuie wincking willes I here bequeath to Sathan and his crue Good fellows fitte for such false ladds as you You are the frothe and scumme of worldes delite The dalling whelpes that can with feathers playe Of mischiefs all the marke the butte and white The iolly Frie that followes flood each waie The gallant flocke the stately starres of day The busie Bées that can no honey make But spoylers of each fruit and flowre yée take The waiting dogges that bite before they barke The couching currs that snatch at euery flie The figboies fine that iuggles in the darke The cunning crue that at receit can lie The sooking sponge that drawes faire fountains dry The greedy houndes that follows eurie game The blott and staine of each good womans name A robe or ring or trifling token bare You giue for that you neuer can restore Then are you â—one you haue your wished fare In straunger streames you loue to stire your Ore If honest wiues but knew your prankes before They would as soone sée of your suttle heds As by your drifts goe staine their husbands bedds In marriage house is friendly fastnesse found Though fare be meane content fills vp the dish In bordell bowre swéete banquets are vnsound Though dainties there wee haue at will and wishe At home we take in worth cold flesh or fish For warme good will doth season so the chéeâ—e That with small coste we banquet all the yéere Abroad wee sit as though we were affearde And scarce dare feede or talke for taunts and nipps At home we rule in spight of husbands bearde And play the Cooke and so may licke our lipps Abroad for nought our tongue is tane in tripps And then great hart can neyther drinke nor eate Thus deere is bought abroad our borrowde meate Looke what is sayd at home in cloth is lappt There speach is frée and honey sports wee vse O well awaie that this misfortune hapt And that I did my husband so abuse That I haue brought my selfe into a muse Lost home thereby lost God and good mens praise And now must run a gadding all my daies A plague most fit for them that vse to change A scourge wherein the wrath of God is seene A staffe of strife for pilgrime nothing strange A bléeding wounde that makes my sorrow gréene A sore rebuke for wits that ouer wéene A heauy crosse and sent me for the nones To breake my will and yet to bruse no bones But since my will did weaue this wofull webbe That neeâ—s must make a weede for wantons weare And that my flood is like to fall to ebbe By want of will that ought low saile to beare To punish Soule that else some other where Might suffer smart I vow in hand to take A better life and so false world forsake Away proud pompe and costly garments nice Come mourning gowne â— clothe the careful wight Awaie vaine showes and open signes of vice Come vertue now and giue my Lampe more light Come Summers day adue darke winters night I loue to liue and looke about mee farre When wound is heald time may amend the scarre Away young Frie that giues leawd Counsell nowe Awaie old trotts that sets young flesh to sale Awaie foule sluttes whose filth doth blott my browe Away trimme tongues that néere told honest tale Awaie bold beastes whose brabble bred my balâ— Away rude Waspes you stong me through the brest Go â—ite your heades and let me liue in