towardes the ground toke good aduisement in his aunswere when a fayre gentlewoman of the company clapped him on the shoulder saying how now sir is your hand on your halfpeny To whome he aunswered no fayre Lady my hand is on my harte and yet my hart is not in myne owne hands wherewithall abashed turning towards dame Elinor he sayde My souereigne and Mistresse according to the charge of your command and the dutie that I owe you my tongue shall bewraye vnto you the truthe of mine intent At this present a rewarde giuen me without desert doth so reioyce mée with continuall remembraunce that though my minde be so occupied to thinke thereon as that daye nor night I can bée quiet from that thought yet the ioye and pleasure whiche I conceiue in the same is such that I can neyther be cloyed with continuaunce thereof nor yet afraide that any mishappe can counteruayle so greate a treasure This is to me suche a heauen to dwell in as that I féede by day and repose by night vppon the freshe recorde of this reward This as Bartello sayeth he ment by the kisse that she lent him in the Gallery and by the profession of hir laste letters and woordes Well though this aunswere bee somewhat mistie yet let his excuse be that taken vppon the sodaine he thought better to aunswere darkly than to be mistrusted openly Hir second question was what thing in this life did moste gréeue his harte and disquiet his minde whervnto he answered That although his late rehersed ioy were incomparable yet the greatest enimie that disturbed the same was the priuie worme of his owne giltie conscience which accused him euermore with great vnworthinesse and that this was his greatest griefe The Lady biting vpon the bitte at his cunning answeres made vnto these two questions ganne thus replie Seruaunt I had thought to haue touched you yet nearer with my thirde question but I will refrayne to attempt your pacience and nowe for my third demaund aunswere me directly in what manner this passion doth handle you and howe these contraries may hang together by any possibilitie of concorde for your woordes are straunge Ferdinando now rousing himselfe boldly tooke occasion thus to handle his aunswere Mistresse quod he my woordes in déede are straunge but yet my passion is muche straunger and thervpon this other day to conteÌ„t mine owne fantasie I deuised a Sonet which although it bée a péece of Cocklorels musicke and suche as I might be ashamed to publish in this company yet bicause my truth in this answere may the better appeare vnto you I pray you vouchsafe to receiue the same in writing and drawing a paper out of his pocket presented it to hir wherin was written this Sonet LOue hope and death do stirre in me such strife As neuer man but I led such a life First burning loue doth wound my hart to death And when death comes at call of inward griefe Colde lingering hope doth feede my fainting breath Against my will and yeeldes my wound reliefe So that I liue but yet my life is such As death would neuer greue me halfe so much No comfort then but only this I tast To salue such sore such hope will neuer want And with such hope such life will euer last And with such life such sorrowes are not skant Oh straunge desire O life with torments tost Through too much hope mine onely hope is lost Euen HE F.I. THis sonet was highly commended and in my iudgement it deserueth no lesse His dutie thus perfourmed their pastimes ended and at their departure for a watch worde hée couÌ„selled his Mistresse by little and little to walke abrode saying that the Gallery neare adioyning was so pleasaunt as if he were halfe dead he thought that by walking therin hée might be halfe more reuiued Think you so seruaunt quod she and the last tyme that I walked there I suppose I toke the cause of my malady but by your aduise for that you haue so clerkly steynched my bléeding I will assay to walke there to morow Mistres quod he and in more ful accomplishment of my duetie towards you and in sure hope that you will vse the same onelie to your owne priuate commoditie I will there awaite vpon you and betwene you and me wil teach you the ful order how to steynch the bléeding of any creature wherby you shal be as cuÌ„ning as my self Gramercy good seruant quod she I thinke you lost the same in writing here yesterday but I caÌ„not vnderstand it therfore to morrow if I féele my self any thing ameÌ„ded I wil sende for you thither to enstruct me throughly thus they departed And at supper time the Lord of Valasco finding fault that his gestes stomacke serued him no better began too accuse the grosnesse of his vyands to whom one of the geÌ„tlewomen which had passed the afternoone in his company answered Nay sir quod she this gentleman hath a passion the which once in a day at the least doth kill his appetite Are you so well acquainted with the dispositioÌ„ of his body quod the Lord of the house by his owne saying quod she not otherwise Fayre ladie quod FerdinaÌ„do you either mistoke me or ouerheard me theÌ„ for I told of a coÌ„fortable humor which so fed me with coÌ„tinuall remeÌ„braÌ„ce of ioy as that my stomack being ful therof doth desire in maner none other vittayles Why sir quod the host do you theÌ„â—iue by loue God forbid sir quod Ferdinando for then my cheekes wold be much thinner thaÌ„ they be but there are diuers other greater causes of ioy than the doubtful lots of loue for mine own part to be playn I caÌ„not loue I dare not hate I would I thought so quod the gentlewoman And thus with prety nyppes they passed ouer their supper which ended the Lord of the house required Ferdinando Ieronimi to daunce and passe the time with the gentlewomen which he refused not to doe But sodenly before the musicke was well tuned came out Dame Elynor in hir night attyre and said to the Lord the supposing the solitarinesse of hir chamber had encreased hir maladie she came out for hir better recreatioÌ„ to sée them daunce Well done daughter quod the Lorde And I Mistres quod Ferdinando would gladly bestowe the leading of you about this great chamber to driue away the faintnesse of your feuer No good seruaunt quod the Lady but in my stéede I pray you daunce with this fayre Gentlewoman pointing him too the Lady that had so taken him vp at supper Ferdinando to auoyd mistrust did agrée too hir request without furder entreaty The daunce begon this Knight marched on with the Image of S. Frances in his hand and S. Elynor in his hart The violands at end of the pauion staied a whyle in whiche time this Dame sayde to Ferdinando Ieronimi on this wise I am right sory for you in two respects although the familiarity haue hytherto had
passions of a Louer iij. The diuorce of a Louer vij The Lullabie of a louer viij The lamentation of a Louer x. The lookes of a Louer enamored xj The lookes of a Louer forsaken xvij The recātatiō of a louer xvij Praise of Lady Sands xviij Praise of the Lady Grey xx Praise of the Authors mistresse xx Gascoigns good morow xxj Gascoigns good night xxiiij Gascoigns Deprofundis xxvj Gascoig memories xxxiij An Epitaph vpon Captaine Bourcher xlj A deuise of a Maske xliij The refusall of a Louer lv Pryde in court lvj Despised things mai liue 58 In trust is treason lix The constancie of a Louer Fol. lx The frute of Foes lxj A Louer once warned and twice taken lxj A Louer encoraged by former examples lxiij The Historie of Dan Bartholmewe of Bathe lxv The frutes of VVarre cxiij Faultes escaped in the VVeedes Fol. Line Faultes Correction 204 13 allgiance allegeaunce 211 17 like I hope I like hope 214 24 contation contentation 216 28 merrye married Ibid. 31 flattring flitting 218 4 had shewed had to plainely shewed Ibid. 7 called calling Ibid. 30 disdaned distayned 220 14 had and 222 30 in of 223 7 And So 224 7 cape cappe Ibid. 8 Crowe Crowne 229 16 still foyle 232 34 braunce braunche 235 19 possessed professed 238 11 that other 240 5 Elaminia Flaminia 242 11 and an Ibid. 30 zoreactes Zoroastes Ibid. 20 doe did 249 13 builded blinded Ibid. 16 pricke pricke such 258 5 gentelman gentlewoman 361 6 quibbes quippes 271 31 la mano las manos 275 2 swell aswell 276 4 Fraunces china Frauncischina Ibid. 8 occurments occurrentes 278 6 that I I that 284 8 But that 285 14 this those Flowers ⧠The Anatomye of a Louer TO make a Louer knowne by plaine Anatomie You louers all that list beware loe here behold you me Who though mine onely lookes your pittie wel might moue Yet euery part shall playe his part to paint the panges of loue If first my feeble head haue so much matter left If fansies raging force haue not his féeble skill bereft These lockes that hang vnkempt these hollowe dazled eyes These chattering téeth this trēbling tongue well tewed with carefull cries These wan and wrinkled chéekes wel washt with waues of woe Maye stand for patterne of a ghost where so this carkasse goe These shoulders they sustaine the yoake of heauy care And on my brused broken backe the burden must I beare These armes quite braunfalne are with beating on my brest This right hand weary is to write this left hand craueth rest These sides enclose the forge where sorrowe playes the smith And hote desire hath kindled fire to worke this mettall with The Anuile is my heart my thoughtes they strike the stroake My lights and lunges like bellowes blow sighes ascend for smoake My secréete partes are so with secréete sorrowe soken As for the secréete shame thereof deserues not to be spoken My thighes my knées my legges and last of all my féete To serue a louers turne are so vnable and vnméete That scarce they sustaine vp this restlesse body well Vnlesse it be to sée the boure wherein my loue doth dwell And there by sight eftsoone to féede my gazing eye And so content my hungrie corps tyll dollours doe me dye Yet for a iust reward of loue so dearely bought I pray you saye loe this was he whome loue had worne to nought Euer or neuer ¶ The arraigment of a Louer AT Beautyes barre as I dyd stande When false suspect accused mée George quod the Iudge holde vp thy hande Thou art arraignde of Flatterye Tell therefore howe thou wylt bée tryde Whose iudgement here wylt thou abyde My Lorde quod I this Lady here Whome I estéeme aboue the rest Doth knowe my guilte if any were Wherefore hir doome shall please me best Let hir bée Iudge and Iurour boathe To trye mée guiltlesse by myne oathe Quod Beautie no it fitteth not A Prince hir selfe to iudge the cause Wyll is our Iustice well you wot Appointed to discusse our Lawes If you wyll guiltlesse séeme to goe God and your countrey quitte you so Then crafte the cryer cal'd a quest Of whome was falshoode formost féere A packe of pickethankes were the rest Which came false witnesse for to beare The Iurye suche the Iudge vniust Sentence was sayde I should be trust Ielous the Iayler bound mée fast To heare the verdite of the byll George quod the Iudge nowe thou art cast Thou must goe hence to heauie hill And there be hangde all but the head God rest thy soule when thou art dead Downe fell I then vpon my knée All flatte before Dame Beauties face And cryed good Ladye pardon mée Which here appeale vnto your grace You knowe if I haue béene vntrue It was in too much praysing you And though this Iudge doe make suche haste To shead with shame my guiltlesse blood Yet let your pittie first bée plaste To saue the man that meant you good So shall you shewe your selfe a Quéene And I maye bée your seruaunt séene Quod Beautie well bicause I guesse What thou dost meane hencefoorth to hée Although thy faultes deserue no lesse Than Iustice here hath iudged thée Wylt thou be bounde to stynt all strife And be true prisoner all thy lyfe Yea Madame quod I that I shall Loe fayth and trueth my suerties Why then quod shée come when I call I aske no better warrantise Thus am I Beauties bounden thrall At hir commaunde when shée doth call Euer or neuer The passion of a Louer I Smyle sometimes although my griefe be great To heare and sée these louers paint their paine And how they can in pleasaunt rimes repeate The passing pangs which they in fancies faine But if I had such skyll to frame a verse I could more paine than all their panges rehearse Some saye they finde nor peace nor power to fight Which séemeth strange but stranger is my state I dwell in dole yet soiorne with delight Reposde in rest yet weryed with debate For flatte repulse might well appease my wyll But fancie fightes to trye my fortune styll Some other saye they hope yet liue in dread They friese they flame they flie aloft they fall But I nor hope with happe to rayse my head Nor feare to stoupe for why my gate is small Nor can I friese with cold to kyll my heart Nor yet so flame as might consume my smart How liue I then which thus drawe foorth my dayes Or tell me howe I found this feuer first What fits I féele what distance what delayes What griefe what ease what lyke I best what worst These thinges they tell which séeke redresse of paine And so wyll I although I coumpt it vaine I liue in loue euen so I loue to liue Oh happie state twise happie he that findes it But loue to life this cognisance doth geue This badge this marke to euery man that mindes it Loue lendeth life which dying cannot dye Nor lyuing
liue and such a life leade I. The Sunny dayes which gladde the saddest wightes Yet neuer shine to cleare my misty moone No quiet sléepe amidde the mooneshine nightes Can close mine eyes when I am woe begone Into such shades my péeuishe sorrowe shrowdes That Sunne and Moone are styll to me in clowdes And feuerlike I féede my fancie styll With such repast as most empaires my health Which feuer first I caught by wanton wyll When coles of kind dyd stirre my blood by stealth And gazing eyes in bewtie put such trust That loue enflamd my liuer al with lust My fits are lyke the feuer Ectick fits Which one daye quakes within and burnes without The next day heate within the boosoms sits And shiuiring colde the body goes about So is my heart most hote when hope is colde And quaketh most when I most heate behold Tormented thus without delayes I stand All wayes in one and euermore shal be In greatest griefe when helpe is nearest hand And best at ease if death might make me frée Delighting most in that which hurtes my heart And hating change which might relieue my smart Yet you deare dame to whome this cure pertaines Deuise by times some drammes for my disease A noble name shall be your greatest gaines Whereof be sure if you wyll worke mine ease And though fond fooles set forth their fittes as fast Yet graunt with me that my straunge passion past Euer or neuer ¶ A straunge passion of a Louer AMid my Bale I hath in blisse I swim in heauen I sinke in hell I find amends for euery misse And yet my moane no tongue can tell I liue and loue what wold you more As neuer louer liu'd before I laugh sometimes with little lust So iest I oft and féele no ioye Myne ease is builded all on trust And yit mistrust bréedes myne anoye I liue and lacke I lacke and haue I haue and misse the thing I craue These things séeme strange yet are they trew Beléeue me sweete my state is such One pleasure which I wold eschew Both slakes my grief and breedes my grutch So doth one paine which I would shoon Renew my ioyes where grief begoon Then like the larke that past the night In heauy sleepe with cares opprest Yit when shee spies the pleasaunt light She sends sweete notes from out hir brest So sing I now because I thinke How ioyes approch when sorrowes shrinke And as fayre Philomene againe Can watch and singe when other sleepe And taketh pleasure in hir payne To wray the woo that makes hir weepe So sing I now for to bewray The lothsome life I lead alway The which to thée deare wenche I write That know'st my mirth but not my moane I praye God graunt thée déepe delight To liue in ioyes when I am gone I cannot liue it wyll not bée I dye to thinke to part from thée Ferendo Natura ¶ The Diuorce of a Louer DIuorce me nowe good death from loue and lingring life That one hath bene my concubine that other was my wife In youth I liued with loue she had my lustye dayes In age I thought with lingering life to stay my wādering wais But now abusde by both I come for to complaine To thée good death in whom my helpe doth wholy now remain My libell loe behold wherein I doe protest The processe of my plaint is true in which my griefe doth rest First loue my concubine whome I haue kept so trimme Euen she for whome I séemd of yore in seas of ioy to swimme To whome I dare auowe that I haue serued as well And played my part as gallantly as he that heares the hell She cast me of long since and holdes me in disdaine I cannot pranke to please hir nowe my vaunting is but vaine My writhled chéekes bewraye that pride of heate is past My stagring steppes eke tell the trueth that nature fadeth fast My quaking crooked ioyntes are combred with the crampe The boxe of oyle is wasted wel which once dyd féede my lampe The gréenesse of my yeares doth wyther now so sore That lusty loue leapes quite awaye and lyketh me no more And loue my lemman gone what lyking can I take In lothsome lyfe that croked croane although she be my make Shée cloyes me with the cough hir comfort is but cold She bids me giue mine age for almes wher first my youth was sold No day can passe my head but she beginnes to brall No mery thoughts conceiued so fast but she confounds them al. When I pretend to please she ouerthwarts me still When I would faynest part with hir she ouerwayes my will. Be iudge then gentle death and take my cause in hand Consider euery circumstaunce marke how the case doth stand Percase thou wilte aledge that cause thou canst none sée But that I like not of that one that other likes not me Yea gentle iudge giue eare and thou shalt see me proue My concubine incontinent a common whore is loue And in my wyfe I find such discord and debate As no man liuing can endure the tormentes of my state Wherefore thy sentence say deuorce me from them both Since only thou mayst right my wronges good death nowe he not loath But cast thy pearcing dart into my panting brest That I may leaue both loue and life thereby purchase rest Haud ictus sapio ¶ The Lullabie of a Louer SIng lullaby as women doe Wherewith they bring their babes to rest And lullaby can I sing to As womanly as can the best With lullaby they still the childe And if I be not much beguild Full many wanton babes haue I Which must be stild with lullabie First lullaby my youthfull yeares It is nowe time to go to bed For croocked age and hoary heares Haue wone the hauen with in my head With Lullaby then youth be still With Lullaby content thy will Since courage quayles and commes behind Go sleepe and so beguile thy minde Next Lullaby my gazing eyes Which wonted were to glaunce apace For euery Glasse maye nowe suffise To shewe the furrowes in my face With Lullabye then winke awhile With Lullabye your lookes beguile Lette no fayre face nor beautie brighte Entice you efte with vayne delighte And Lullaby my wanton will Lette reasons rule nowe reigne thy thought Since all to late I finde by skyll Howe deare I haue thy fansies bought With Lullaby nowe tak thyne ease With Lullaby thy doubtes appease For trust to this if thou be styll My body shall obey thy will. Eke Lullaby my louing boye My little Robyn take thy rest Since age is colde and nothing coye Keepe close thy coyne for so is best With Lullady be thou content With Lullaby thy lustes relente Lette others pay which hath mo pence Thou art to pore for such expence Thus Lullabye my youth myne eyes My will my ware and all that was I can no mo delayes deuise But welcome payne let pleasure passe With Lullaby now take your leaue
put me from my wonted place And déepe deceipte hath wrought a wyle to wrest me out of grace Wyll home againe to cart as fitter were for mée Then thus in court to serue and starue where such proude porters bée Si fortunatus infoelix ¶ This question being propounded by a Dame vnto the Aucthour to witte why he should write Spreta tamen viuunt he aunswereth thus DEspysed things may liue although they pine in payne And things ofte trodden vnder foote may once yet rise againe The stone that lieth full lowe may clime at last full hye And stand a loft on stately towr's in sight of euery eye The cruell Axe which felles the trée that grew full straight Is worne with rust when it renewes and springeth vp on height The rootes of rotten Réedes in swelling seas are seene And when eche tide hath tost his worst they grow againe ful gréene Thus much to please my selfe vnpleasauntly I sing And shrich to ease my morning minde in spite of enuies sting I am nowe set full light who earst was dearely lou'd Som new foūd choise is more estemd than that which wel was prou'd Some Diomede is crept into Dame Cressides hart And trustie Troylus nowe is taught in vaine to playne his part What resteth then for me but thus to wade in wo And hang in hope of better chaunce when chaunge appointeth so I sée no sight on earth but it to Chaunge enclines As litle clowdes oft ouercast the brightest Sunne that shines No Flower is so freshe but frost can it deface No man so sure in any seate but he maye léese his place So that I stand content though much against my mind To take in worth this lothsome lot which luck to me assynd And trust to sée the time when they that nowe are vp May féele the whirle of fortunes whéele and tast of sorrowes cup. God knoweth I wishe it not it had bene bet for mée Styll to haue kept my quiet chayre in hap of high degrée But since without recure Dame Chaunge in loue must raigne I now wish chaunge that sought no chaūge but constāt did remaine And if suche chaunge do chaunce I vowe to clap my hands And laugh at them which laught at me lo thus my fansie standes Spreta tamen viuunt ¶ In trust is Treason written by a Louer leaning onelye to his Ladies promises and finding them to fayle THe straightest Trée that growes vpon one onely roote If that roote fayle wyll quickly fade no props can do it boote I am that fading plant which on thy grace dyd growe Thy grace is gone wherefore I mone and wither all in woe The tallest ship that sailes if shée too Ancors trust When Ancors slip Cables breake her helpe lyes in the dust I am the ship my selfe mine Ancor was thy faith Which now is fled thy promise broke I am driuen to death Who climeth oft on hie and trusts the rotten bowe If that bow breake may catch a fall such state stand I in now Me thought I was a loft and yet my seate full sure Thy heart dyd séeme to me a rock which euer might endure And sée it was but sand whome seas of subtiltie Haue soked so with wanton waues that faith was forst to flye The flooddes of ficklenesse haue vndermined so The first foundation of my ioy that myrth is ebb'd to wo. Yet at lowe water markes I lye and wayte my time To mend the breach but all in vaine it cannot passe the prime For when the prime flood comes which all this rage begoon Then waues of wyll do worke so fast my piles are ouer roon Dutie and dilligence which are my workmen there Are glad to take vp fooles in haste and run away for feare For fansie hath such force it ouerfloweth all And whispring tales do blow the blasts that make it ryse fall Thus in these tempests tost my restles life doth stand Because I builded on thy wodres as I was borne in hand Thou weart that only stake wereby I ment to stay Alas alas thou stoodst so weake the hedge is borne away By thee I thought to liue by thee now must Idye I made thee my Phisicion thou art my mallady For thee I longde to liue for thée nowe welcome death And welcome be that happie pang that stops my gasping breath Twise happie were that axe would cut my rotes downe right And sacred were that swelling sea which would consume me quight Blest were that bowe would breake to bring downe climing youth Which craks aloft and quakes full oft for feare of thine vntruth Ferenda Natura The constancie of a louer hath thus sometimes bene briefly declared THat selfe same tonge which first did thée entreat To linke thy liking with my lucky loue That trustie tonge must nowe these wordes repeate I loue thee still my fancie cannot moue That dreadlesse hart which durst attempt the thought To win thy will with mine for to consent Maintaines that vow which loue in me first wrought I loue thee still and neuer shall repent That happie hande which hardely did touch Thy tender body to my déepe delight Shall serue with sword to proue my passion such As loues thee still much more than it can write Thus loue I still with tongue hand hart and all And when I chaunge let vengeance on me fall Ferenda Natura ¶ The fruite of foes written to a Gentlewoman who blamed him for writing his friendly aduise in verse vnto another louer of hyrs THe cruell hate which boyles within thy burning brest And séekes to shape a sharpe reuenge on them that loue thée best May warne all faithfull friendes in case of ieopardie Howe they shall put their harmelesse hands betwéene the barck trée And I among the rest which wrote this weary song Must nedes alledge in my defence that thou hast done me wrong For if in simple verse I chaunc'd to touch thy name And toucht the same without reproch was I therefore to blame And if of great good will I gaue my best aduise Then thus to blame without cause why me thinkes thou art not wise Amongst olde written tales this one I beare in mind A simple soule much like my selfe dyd once a serpent find Which almost dead for colde lay moyling in the myre When he for pittie tooke it vp and brought it to the fyre No sooner was the Snake recured of hir griefe But straight shée sought to hurt the man that lent hir such reliefe Such Serpent séemest thou such simple soule am I That for the weight of my good wil am blam'd without cause why But as it best beseemes the harmelesse gentle hart Rather to take an open wrong than for to plaine his part I must and will endure thy spite without repent The blame is mine the triumph thine and I am well content Meritum petere graue A Louer often warned and once againe drouen into fantasticall flames by the chase of company doth thus bewayle his misfortunes I That
the rockes And though I saw thée séeme to hang the lyppe And set my great good wyll as light as flockes Yet hauld I in the mayne sheate of the minde And stayed thy course by ancors of aduice I woon thy wyll into a better winde To saue thy ware which was of precious price And when I had so harbored thy Barke In happy hauen which saufer was than Douer The Admyrall which knewe it by the marke Streight challengde all and sayd thou wert a rouer Then was I forst in thy behalfe to pleade Yea so I dyd the Iudge can saye no lesse And whiles in toyle this lothsome life I leade Camest thou thy selfe the faulte for to confesse And downe on knée before thy cruell foe Dydst pardon craue accusing me for all And saydst I was the cause that thou didst so And that I spoone the thred of all thy thrall Not so content thou furthermore didst sweare That of thy selfe thou neuer ment to swerue For proofe wherof thou didst the colours weare Which might bewray what saint thou ment to serue And that thy blood was sacrificed eke To manyfest thy stedfast martyrd mynde Till I perforce constraynd thée for to séeke These raging seas aduentures thereto finde Alas alas and out alas for me Who am enforced thus for to repeate The false reports and cloked guyles of thée Whereon to oft my restlesse thoughts do beate But thus it was and thus God knowes it is Which when I founde by playne and perfect proofe My musing minde then thought it not amisse To shrinke aside lamenting all aloofe And so to beate my simple shiftlesse brayne For some deuice that might redéeme thy state Lo here the cause for why I take this payne Lo how I loue the wight which me doth hate Lo thus I lye and restlesse rest in Bathe Whereas I bathe not now in blisse pardie But boyle in Bale and skamble thus in skathe Bycause I thinke on thine vnconstancie And wylt thou knowe howe here I spend my time And howe I drawe my dayes in dolours styll Then staye a while giue eare vnto my rime So shalt thou know the weight of all my wyll When Titan is constrained to forsake His Lemans couche and clymeth to his carte Then I begin to languishe for thy sake And with a sighe which maye bewray my smarte I cleare mine eyes whome gumme of teares had glewed And vp on foote I set my ghostly corse And when the stony walles haue oft renewed My pittious plaintes with Ecchoes of remorce Then doe I crye and call vpon thy name And thus I saye thou curst and cruell bothe Beholde the man which taketh griefe for game And loueth them which most his name doe lothe Behold the man which euer truely ment And yet accusde as aucthour of thine yll Behold the man which all his life hath spent To serue thy selfe and aye to worke thy wyll Behold the man which onely for thy loue Dyd loue himselfe whome else he set but light Behold the man whose blood for thy behoue Was euer prest to shed it selfe outright And canst thou nowe condemne his loyaltie And canst thou craft to flatter such a friend And canst thou sée him sincke in ieoperdie And canst thou seeke to bring his life to ende Is this the right reward for such desart Is this the fruite of seede so timely sowne Is this the price appointed for his part Shall trueth be thus by treason ouerthrowne Then farewell faith thou art no womans pheare And with that word I staye my tongue in time With rolling eyes I loke about eache where Least any man should heare my rauing rime And all in rage enraged as I am I take my sheete my slippers and my Gowne And in the Bathe from whence but late I came I cast my selfe in dollours there to drowne There all alone I can my selfe conueye Into some corner where I sit vnseene And to my selfe there naked can I saye Behold these braune falne armes which once haue bene Both large and lustie able for to fight Nowe are they weake and wearishe God he knowes Vnable now to daunt the fowle despight Which is presented by my cruel foes My thighes are thin my body lanck and leane It hath no bumbast now but skin and bones And on mine Elbowe as I lye and leane I sée a trustie token for the nones I spie a bracelet bounde about mine arme Which to my shaddowe séemeth thus to saye Beleeue not me for I was but a Charme To make thée sleepe when others went to playe And as I gaze thus galded all with griefe I finde it fazed almost quite in sunder Then thinke I thus thus wasteth my reliefe And though I fade yet to the world no wonder For as this lace by leysure learnes to weare So must I faint euen as the Candle wasteth These thoughts déere swéet within my brest I beare And to my long home thus my life it hasteth Herewith I téele the droppes of sweltring sweate Which trickle downe my face enforced so And in my body féele I lykewise beate A burning heart which tosseth too and fro Thus all in flames I sinderlyke consume And were it not that wanhope lendes me wynde Soone might I fret my facyes all in fume And lyke a Ghost my ghost his graue might finde But frysing hope doth blowe ful in my face And colde of cares becommes my cordiall So that I styl endure that yrksome place Where sorrowe seethes to skalde my skinne withal And when from thence or company me drieus Or weary woes do make me change my seate Then in my bed my restlesse paines reuiues Vntil my fellowes call me downe to meate And when I ryse my corpse for to araye I take the glasse sometimes but not for pride For God he knowes my minde is not so gaye But for I would in comelynesse abyde I take the glasse wherein I seeme to sée Such wythred wrinckles and so fowle disgrace That lytle maruaile séemeth it to mée Though thou so well dydst like the noble face The noble face was faire and freshe of hewe My wrinckled face is fowle and fadeth fast The noble face was vnto thée but newe My wrinckled face is olde and cleane outcast The noble face might moue thée with delight My wrinckled face could neuer please thine eye Loe thus of crime I couet thée to quite And styll accuse my selfe of Surcuydry As one that am vnworthy to enioye The lasting fruite of suche a loue as thine Thus am I tickled styll with euery toye And when my Fellowes call me downe to dyne No chaunge of meate prouokes mine appetite Nor sauce can serue to taste my meates withall Then I deuise the iuyce of grapes to dight For Sugar and for Sinamon I call For Ginger Graines and for eche other spice Wherewith I mixe the noble Wine apace My Fellowes prayse the depth of my deuise And saye it is as good as Ippocrace As Ippocrace saye I and then I swelt
men as maye confesse with me How contrary the lots of loue to all true louers bée Let Patience be the Priest the Clarke be Close conceipt The Sertin be Simplicitie which meaneth no disceipt Let almes of Loue be delt euen at the Chaunsell doore And feede them there with freshe delayes as I haue bene of yore Then let the yongest sort be set to ring Loues Bels And pay Repentance for their paines but giue thē nothing else Thus when the Dirge is done let euery man depart And learne by me what harme it is to haue a faithfull hart Those litle landes I haue mine heyre must needes possesse His name is Lust the landes be losse few louers scape with lesse The rest of all my goodes which I not here rehearse Giue learned Poets for their paines to decke my Tombe with verse And let them write these wordes vpon my carefull chest Lo here he lies that was as true in loue as is the best Alas I had forgot the Parsons dewe to paye And so my soule in Purgatorye might remaine alway Then for my priuie Tythes as kysses caught by stealth Sweete collinges such other knackes as multiplied my wealth I giue the Vickar here to please his gréedie wyll A deintie dishe of suger soppes but saust with sorrow stil And twise a wéeke at least let dight them for his dishe On Fridayes and on wednesdaies to saue expence of fishe Nowe haue I much bequeathed and litle left behinde And others mo must yet be serued or else I were vnkinde Wet eyes and wayling wordes Executours I make And for their paines ten pound of teares let either of them take Let sorrow at the last my Suprauisor be And stedfastnesse my surest steade I giue him for his fée Yet in his pattent place this Sentence of prouiso That he which loueth stedfastly shall want no sauce of sorrow Thus now I make an ende of this my wearie wyll And signe it with my simple hand and set my seale there tyll And you which reade my wordes although they be in rime Yet reason may perswade you eke Thus louers dote sometime The Subscription and seale MY mansion house was Mone from Dolours dale I came I Fato Non Fortuna hight lo now you know my name My seale is sorrowes sythe within a fielde of flame Which cuts in twaine a carefull heart that sweltreth in the same Fato non Fortuna ALas lo now I heare the passing Bell Which Care appointeth carefullye to knoule And in my brest I féele my heart now swell To breake the stringes which ioynde it to my soule The Crystall yse which lent mine eyes their light Doth now waxe dym and dazeled all with dread My senses all wyll now forsake me quite And hope of health abandoneth my head My wearie tongue can talke no longer now My trembling hand nowe leaues my penne to hold My ioynts nowe stretch my body cannot bowe My skinne lookes pale my blood now waxeth cold And are not these the very panges of death Yes sure sweete heart I know them so to bée They be the panges which striue to stop my breath They be the panges which part my loue from thée What sayd I Loue Nay life but not my loue My life departes my loue continues styll My lothed lyfe may from my corpse remoue My louing Loue shall alwayes worke thy wyll It was thy wyll euen thus to trye my truth Thou hast thy wyll my truth may now be sene It was thy wyll that I should dye in youth Thou hast thy wyll my yeares are yet but grene Thy penaunce was that I should pine in paine I haue performde thy penaunce all in wo Thy pleasure was that I should here remaine I haue bene glad to please thy fansie so Nowe since I haue performed euery part Of thy commaunde as neare as tongue can tell Content thée yet before my muse depart To take this Sonet for my last farewell Fato non fortuna His Farewell FArewell déere Loue whome I haue loued and shall Both in this world and in the world to come For proofe whereof my sprite is Charons thrall And yet my corpse attendant on thy toome Farewell déere swéete whose wanton wyll to please Eche taste of trouble séemed mell to me Farewell swéete deare whose doubtes for to appease I was contented thus in bale to be Farewell my lyfe farewell for and my death For thee I lyu'd for thee nowe must I dye Farewell from Bathe whereas I feele my breath Forsake my breast in great perplexitie Alas how welcome were this death of mine If I had dyde betweene those armes of thine Fato non Fortuna The Reporters conclusion WHere might I now find flooddes of flowing teares So to suffice the swelling of mine eyes How might my breast vnlode the bale it beares Alas alas how might my tongue deuise To tell this weary tale in wofull wise To tell I saye these tydinges nowe of truth Which may prouoke the craggy rockes to rush In depth of dole would God that I were drownde Where flattering ioyes might neuer find me out Or graued so within the gréedy grounde As false delights might neuer bréede my doubt Nor guilefull loue hir purpose bring about Whose trustlesse traines in collours for to paint I find by proofe my wittes are all to faint I was that man whome destinies ordeine To beare eche griefe that groweth on the mold I was that man which proued to my paine More panges at once than can with tongue be told I was that man hereof you maye be hold Whome heauen and earth did frame to scoffe and scorne I I was he which to that ende was borne Suffized not my selfe to taste the fruite Of sugred sowres which growe in gadding yeares But that I must with paine of lyke pursute Perceiue such panges by paterne of my peares And féele how fansies fume could fond my pheares Alas I find all fates against me bent For nothing else I lyue but to lament The force of friendship bound by holy othe Dyd drawe my wyll into these croked wayes For with my frend I went to Bathe though loth To lend some comfort in his dollie dayes The stedfast friend stickes fast at all assayes Yet was I loth such time to spend in vaine The cause whereof lo here I tell you playne By proofe I found as you may well perceiue That all good counsell was but worne in wast Such painted paines his passions did deceiue That bitter gall was mell to him in tast Within his will such rootes of ruine plast As graffes of griefes were only giuen to growe Where youth did plant and rash conceite did sowe I sawe at first his eares were open aye To euery tale which fed him with some hope As fast againe I sawe him turne away From graue aduise which might his conscience grope From reasons rule his fancie lightly lope He only gaue his mind to get that gaine Which most he wisht and least could yet attaine Not I
to be written in letters of golde But too the purpose I thinke you shall neuer recouer the wealth that you loste at Otranto Cle. I thinke I haue dubled it or rather made it foure times as muche but in déed I lost mine only sonne there a childe of fiue yeres olde Pa. O great pitie Cle. Yea I had rather haue lost al the goods in the world Pa. Alas alas by God and grafts of suche a stocke are very gayson in these dayes Cle. I know not whether he were slayne or the Turks toke him and kept him as a bond slaue Pa. Alas I could weepe for compassion but there is no remedy but patience you shall get many by this yong damsell with the grace of God. Cle. Yea if I get hir Pa. Get hir why doubt you of that Cle. Why hir father holds me off with delayes so that I must needes doubt Pa. Content your selfe sir he is a wise man and desirous to place his Daughter well he will not be too rashe in hys determination he will thinke well of the matter and lette him thinke for the longer he thinketh the more good of you shall he thinke whose welth whose vertue whose skill or whose estimation can he compare to yours in this Citie Cle. And hast thou not tolde him that I would make his Daughter a dower of two thousand Ducates Pa. Why euen now I came but frâ—m thence since Cle. What said he Pa. Nothing but that Erostrato had profered the like Cle. Erostrato how can he make any dower and his father yet aliue Pa. Thinke you I did not tell him so yes I warraÌ„t you I forgot nothing that may furder your cause doubte you not Erostrato shal neuer haue hir vnlesse it be in a dreame Cle. Well gentle Pasiphilo go thy wayes and tell Damon I require nothing but his daughter I wil none of his goods I shal enrich hir of mine owne if this dower of two thousand Ducates seem not sufficieÌ„t I wil make it fiue hundreth more yea a thousand or what so euer he wil demauÌ„d rather theÌ„ faile go to Pasiphilo shew thy selfe freÌ„dly in working this feate for me spare for no cost since I haue gone thus farre I wil be loth to be out bidden Go. Pa. Where shall I come to you againe Cle. At my house Pa. When Cle. When thou wilte Pa. Shall I come at dinner time Cle. I would byd thée to dinner but it is a Saincts euen which I haue euer fasted Pa. Faste till thou famishe Cle. Harke Pa. He speaketh of a dead mans faste Cle. Thou hearest me not Pa. Nor thou vnderstandest me not Cle. I dare say thou art angrie I byd the not to dinner but come if thou wilte thou shalt take such as thou findest Pa. What think you I know not where to dine Cle. Yes Pasiphilo thou art not to séeke Pa. No be you sure there are enowe will pray me Cle. That I knowe well enough Pasiphilo but thou canst not be better welcome in any place than to me I will tarrie for thée Pa. Well since you will néedes I will come Cle. Dispatche then and bring no newes but good Pa. Better than my rewarde by the rood Cleander exit Pasiphilo restat Scena iij. PASIPHILO DVLIPO O Miserable couetous wretche he findeth an excuse by S. Nicolas fast bicause I should not dine with him as though I should dine at his owne dishe he maketh goodly feasts I promise you it is no wonder though hée thinke me bounde vnto him for my fare for ouer and besides that his prouision is as skant as may be yet there is great difference betwéene his diet and mine I neuer so much as sippe of the wine that he tasteth I féede at the bordes ende with browne bread Marie I reach always to his owne dishe for there are no more but that only on the table Yet he thinks that for one such dinner I am bound to do him al the seruice that I can and thinks me sufficiently rewarded for all my trauell with one suche festiuall promotion And yet peraduenture some men thinke I haue great gaines vnder him but I may say and sweare that this dosen yéere I haue not gayned so muche in value as the points at my hose whiche are but thrée with codpéece poynt and al he thinkes that I may féede vpon his fauour and faire wordes but if I could not otherwise prouide for one Pasiphilo were in a wyse case Pasiphilo hath mo pastures to passe in than one I warrant you I am of housholde with this scholer Erostrato his riuale as well as with Domine Cleander nowe with the one and then with the other according as I sée their Caters prouide good chéere at the market and I finde the meanes so to handle the matter that I am welcome too bothe If the one sée me talke with the other I make him beleeue it is to harken newes in the furtherance of his cause and thus I become a broker on bothe sides Well lette them bothe apply the matter as well as they can for in déede I will trauell for none of them bothe yet will I séeme to worke wonders on eche hande But is not this one of Damons seruants that commeth foorth it is of him I shall vnderstand where his master is Whither goeth this ioyly gallant Du. I come to séeke some body that may accompany my Master at dinner he is alone and woulde fayne haue good company Pa. Séeke no further you coulde neuer haue found one better than me Du. I haue no commission to bring so many Pa. How many I will come alone Du. How canst thou come alone that hast continually a legion of rauening wolues within thée Pa. Thou doest as seruants commonly doe hate al that loue to visite their maisters Du. And why Pa. Bicause they haue too many téeth as you thinke Du. Nay bicause they haue to many tongues Pa. ToÌ„gues I pray you what did my toÌ„gue euer hurt you Du. I speake but merily with you Pasiphilo goe in my maister is ready to dine Pa. What dineth he so earely Du. He that riseth early dineth early Pa. I would I were his man maister doctor neuer dineth till noone and how dilicately then God knoweth I wil he bolde to goe in for I count my selfe bidden Du. You were best so Pasiphilo intrat Dul. restat Hard hap had I when I first began this vnfortunate enterprise for I supposed the readiest medicine to my miserable affects had bene to change name clothes credite with my seruant to place my selfe in Damons seruice thinking that as sheuering colde by glowing fire thurst by drinke hunger by pleasant repasts and a thousande suche like passions finde remedie by their contraries so my rest lesse desire might haue founde quiet by continuall contemplation But alas I find that only loue is vnsaciable for as the flie playeth with the flame till at last she is cause of hir owne decay so the
his taile And leaping ouer hedge and ditch I sawe it not preuaile To pamper him so proude Wherfore I thought it best To trauaile him not as I woont yet nay to giue him rest Thus well resolued then I kept him still in harte And founde a pretie prouander appointed for his parte Which once a day no more he might a little tast And by this diet made I youth a gentle iade at last And foorth I might him ride an easie iourneying pace He neuer straue with middle age but gently gaue him place Then middle age stept in and toke the helme in hande To guide my Barke by better skill into some better lande And as eche noble heart is euermore most bent To high exploites and woorthie déedes where honor may be hent So mine vnyolden minde by Armes gan séeke renowne And sought to rayse that recklesse youth had rashly tūbled downe With sworde and trustie targe then sought I for to carue For middle age and hoarie haires and both their turnes to sarue And in my Caruers roome I gan to cut suche cuttes And made suche morsels for their mouthes as well might fill their guttes Beside some ouerplus which being kept in store Might serue to welcome al their friends with foison euermore I meane no more but this my hand gan finde such happe As made me thinke that Fortune ment to play me in hir lappe And hope therwith had heavde my heart to be so hie That still I hoapt by force of armes to climbe aboue the Skie I bathed still in blisse I ledde a lordelie life My Souldiers lovde and fearde me both I neuer dreaded strife My boord was furnisht stil with cates of dainty cost My back wel clad my purse wel lynde my woonted lack was lost My bags began to fil my debtes for to discharge My state so stoode as sure I séemde to swim in good lucks barge But out and well away what pleasure bréedes not paine What sun cā shine without a cloud what thūder brings not rain Such is the life of man such was the luck of me To fall so fast from hiest hap where sure I séemde to be Fiue hundred sundrie sunnes and more could scarcely serue By sweat of brows to win a roome wherin my knife might carue One onely dismall day suffised with despite To take me from my caruers place and from the table quite Fiue hundred broken sleepes had busied all my braynes To find at last some worthy trade that might increse my gaynes One blacke vnluckie houre my trade hath ouerthrowen And marrde my marte broke my bank al my blisse oreblowen To wrappe vp all in woe I am in prison pent My gaines possessed by my foes my friends against me bent And all the heauy haps that euer age yet bare Assembled are within my breast to choake me vp with care My modest middle age which lacks of youth the lust Can beare no such gret burdēs now but throwes them in the dust Yet in this piteous plight beholde me Louers all And rewe my grieues least you your selues do light on such a fal I am that wearie wretch whom loue always hath tyred And fed me with such strange conceytes as neuer man desired For now euen now ay me I loue and cannot chuse So strangely yet as wel may moue the wisest mindes to muse No blasing beautie bright hath set my heart on fire No ticing talke no gorgeous gyte tormenteth my desire No bodie finely framde no haggarde Falcons eie No ruddie lip no golden locks hath drawne my minde awrie No téeth of shining pearle no gallant rosie hiew No dimpled chinne no pit in chéeke presented to my view In fine no such delights as louers oft allure Are cause why thus I do lament or put my plaintes in vre But such a strange affect as both I shame to tell And all the worlde may woonder much how first therin I fell Yet since I haue begonne quoth he to tell my griefe I wil nought hide although I hope to finde no great reliefe And thus quoth he it is Amongst the sundrie ioyes Which I conceivde in feates of warre and all my Martial toyes My chaunce was late to haue a péerlesse firelock péece That to my wittes was nay the like in Turkie nor in Greece A péece so cleanly framde so streight so light so fine So tempred and so polished as séemeth worke diuine A péece whose locke yet past for why it it neuer failde And though I bent it night and day the quicknesse neuer quailde A péece as well renforst as euer yet was wrought The brauest péece for bréech and bore that euer yet was bought The mounture so well made and for my pitch so fit As though I sée faire péeces moe yet fewe so fine as it A péece which shot so well so gently and so streight It neyther bruzed with recule nor wroong with ouerweight In fine and to conclude I know no fault thereby That eyther might be thought in minde or wel discernde with ey This péece then late I had and therin tooke delight As much as euer proper péece did please a warlike wight Nowe though it be not lost nor rendred with the rest Yet being shut from sight therof how can I thinke me blest Or which way should I hope that such a iewell rare Can passe vnséen in any campe where cunning shooters are And therewith am I sure that being once espied It neuer can escape their hands but that it will be tried And being once but prooued then farewel frost for me My péece my locke and all is lost and I shall neuer sée The like againe on earth Nowe Louers speake your minde Was euer man so strangely stroke or caught in such a kinde Was euer man so fonde was euer man so mad Was euer man so woe begone or in such cares yclad For restlesse thus I rest the wretchedst man on liue And when I thinke vpon this péece then still my woes reuiue Nor euer can I finde good plaister for my paine Vnlesse my lucke might be so good to finde that péece againe To make my mourning more where I in prison pine I daily sée a pretie péece much like that péece of mine Which helps my hurt much like vnto a broken shinne That when it heales begins to ytch and then rubs off the skinne Thus liue I still in loue alas and euer shall As well content to loose my péece as gladde to finde my fall A wonder to the worlde a griefe to friendlie mindes A mocking stocke to Momus race and al such scornefull hindes A loue that thinke I sure whose like was neuer séene Nor neuer warlike wight shal be in loue as I haue béene So that in sooth quoth he I cannot blame the Dames Whome I in youth did moste estéeme I list not foile their fames But there to lay the fault from whence it first did flowe I say my Fortune is the root whence all these griefes did grow Since Fortune
stande on Shooters hill Till rents come in to please their wicked will. Some fansies hopes by lies to come on floate As for to tell their frends and kinne great tales What wealth they lost in coyne and many a coate What powder packt in coffers and in males What they must pay and what their charge will be Wherin they meane to saue themselues a fee. Some fansies eke forecast what life to wéelde When libertie shall graunted be at last And in the aire such castles gan they builde That many times they fall againe as fast For Fansie hinders Grace from glories crowne As Tares and Byndes can plucke good graine adowne Who list therfore by Fetters frute to haue Take Fansie first out of his priuy thought And when thou hast him cast him in the waue Of Lethes lake for sure his séede is nought The gréene Knight he of whome I late did tell Mine Author sayth badde Fansie thus farewell The greene Knights farewell to Fansie FAnsie quoth he farewell whose badge I long did beare And in my hat full harebrayndly thy flowers did I weare To late I finde at last thy frutes are nothing worth Thy blossomes fall fade full fast though brauerie bring thē forth By thée I hoapt alwayes in déepe delights to dwel But since I finde thy ficklenesse Fansie quoth he farewell Thou madste me liue in loue which wisedome biddes me hate Thou bleardst mine eies madste me thinke that faith was mine by fate By thée those bitter swéetes did please my taste alway By thee I thought that loue was light and payne was but a play I thought that Bewties blase was méete to beare the bell And since I finde my selfe deceyued Fansie quoth he farewell The glosse of gorgeous courtes by thée did please mine eye A stately fight me thought it was to sée the braue go by To sée their feathers flaunte to marke their straunge deuise To lie along in Ladies lappes to lispe and make it nice To fawne and flatter both I liked sometimes well But since I see how vayne it is Fansie quoth he farewell When court had cast me off I toyled at the plowe My fansie stoode in straunge conceipts to thriue I wote not how By mils by making malte by shéepe and eke by swyne By ducke and drake by pigge and goose by calues kéeping kine By féeding bullockes fat when pryce at markets fell But since my swaines eat vp my gaines Fansie quoth he farewell In hunting of the deare my fansie tooke delight All forests knew my folly still the mooneshine was my light In frosts I felt no cold a sunneburnt hew was best I sweate and was in temper still my watching séemed rest What daungers déepe I past it follie were to tell And since I sigh to thinke thereon Fansie quoth he farewell A fansie fedde me ones to wryte in verse and rime To wray my griefe to craue reward to couer still my crime To frame a long discourse on sturring of a strawe To rumble rime in raffe and ruffe yet all not worth an hawe To heare it sayde there goeth the Man that writes so well But since I sée what Poetes bée Fansie quoth he farewell At Musickes sacred sounde my fansies eft begonne In concordes discordes notes and cliffes in tunes of vnisonne In Hyerarchies and straynes in restes in rule and space In monacordes and mouing moodes in Burdens vnder base In descants and in chants I streined many a yel But since Musicians be so madde Fansie quoth he farewell To plant straunge countrie fruites to sow such séedes likewise To digge delue for new foūd rootes where old might wel suffise To proyne the water bowes to picke the mossie trées Oh how it pleasd my fansie ones to knéele vpon my knées To griffe a pippine stocke when sappe begins to swell But since the gaynes scarce quite the cost Fansie quoth he farewell Fansie quoth he farewell which made me follow drommes Where powdred bullets serues for sauce to euery dish that cōmes Where treason lurkes in trust where Hope all hartes beguiles Where mischief lieth still in wayte when fortune friendly smiles Where one dayes prison prones that all such heauens are hell And such I féele the frutes thereof Fansie quoth he farewell If reason rule my thoughts and God vouchsafe me grace Then comfort of Philosophie shall make me chaunge my race And fonde I shall it finde that Fansie settes to showe For weakely stāds that building still which lacketh grace by low But since I must accept my fortunes as they fell I say God send me better spéede and Fansie now farewell Epilogismus SEe swéete deceipt that can it self beguile Behold selfe loue which walketh in a net And séemes vnséene yet shewes it selfe therewhile Before such eyes as are in science set The Gréene knight here leaues out his firelocke péece That Fancie hath not yet his last farewell When Foxes preach good folke beware your géese But holla here my muse to farre doth mell Who list to marke what learned preacher sayeth Must learne withall for to beleeue his lore But what he doth that toucheth nomans fayth Though words with workes agréed persuade the more The mounting kite oft lights on homely pray And wisest wittes may sometimes go astray FINIS Tam Marti quà m Mercurio The pleasant Fable of Ferdinando Ieronomi and Leonora de Valasco translated out of the Italian riding tales of Bartello IN the pleasant Countrie of Lombardie and not farre from the Citie of Florence there was dwelling sometimes a Lorde of many riche Seignories and dominions who neuerthelesse bare his name of the Castle of Valasco this Lord had one only sonne and two daughters his sonne was called during the life of his father the heyre of Valasco who maried a faire Gentlewoman of the house of Bellauista named Leonora the elder daughter of the Lord of Valasco was called Francischina a yong woman very toward bothe in capacitie and other actiue qualities Nowe the Lord of Valasco hauing already maried his sonne heyre and himselfe drawing in age was desirous to sée his daughters also bestowed before his death and especially the eldest who both for beutie and ripenesse of age might often put him in remembrance that shée was a collop of his owne fleshe and therefore sought meanes to draw vnto his house Ferdinando Ieronimi a yong gentleman of Venice who delighting more in hawking hunting and such other pastimes than he did in studie had left his owne house in Venice and was come into Lombardie to take the pleasures of the countrie So that the Lorde of Valasco knowing him to be of a very good parentage and therewithall not onely riche but adorned with sundrie good qualities was desirous as is sayd to drawe him home to his house vnder pretence of hunting and hawking to the end he might beholde his fayre daughter Francischina who both for parentage and other worldly respects might no lesse content his minde than hir beautie was likely to
His sentence had béene shortly sayde if Faustine had bene iudge For this I dare auow without vaunt be it spoke So braue a knight as Anthony held al their necks in yoke I leaue not Lucrece out beléeue in hir who lyst I thinke she would haue lik'd his lure stooped to his fist What mou'd the chieftain then to lincke his liking thus I would some Romaine dame were here the question to discusse But that I read her life do finde therein by fame Howe cleare hir curtesie dyd shine in honour of hir name Hir bountie did excell hir trueth had neuer pere Hir louely lokes hir pleasant spéech hir lusty louing chere And all the worthy giftes that euer yet were found Within this good Egiptian Quéene dyd séeme for to abound Wherefore he worthy was to win the golden fléece Which scornd the blasing starres in Rome to conquere such a péece And shée to quite his loue in spite of dreadfull death Enshrinde with Snakes within his Tombe did yéeld hir parting breath Allegoria IF fortune fauord him then may that man reioyce And thinke himself a happy man by hap of happy choice Who loues and is belou'd of one as good as true As kind as Cleopatra was and yet more bright of hewe Hir eyes as greye as glasse hir téeth as white as mylke A ruddy lippe a dimpled chyn a skyn as smoth as silke A wight what could you more that may content mannes minde And hath supplies for eu'ry want that any man can finde And may him selfe assure when hence his life shall passe She wil be stong to death with snakes as Cleopatra was Si fortunatus infoelix ¶ The praise of Phillip Sparrowe OF all the byrdes that I doe know Phillip my Sparow hath no peare For sit she high or lye she lowe Be shée farre off or be shée neare There is no byrde so fayre so fine Nor yet so freshe as this of myne Come in a morning merely When Phillip hath bene lately fed Or in an euening soberlye When Phillip lyst to goe to bed It is a heauen to heare my Phippe Howe she can chirpe with chery lippe She neuer wanders farre abroade But is at hand when I doe call If I commaund shée layes on loade With lips with téeth with tongue and all She chants she chirpes she makes such chéere That I beléeue she hath no peere And yet besides all this good sport My Phillip can both sing and daunce With new found toyes of sundry sort My Phillip can both pricke and praunce As if you saye but fend cut phippe Lord how the peat will turne and skippe Hir fethers are so freshe of hewe And so well proyned euerye daye She lackes none oyle I warrant you To trimme hir tayle both tricke and gaye And though hir mouth be somewhat wide Hir tonge is sweet and short beside And for the rest I dare compare She is both tender swéet and soft She neuer lacketh dainty fare But is well fed and féedeth oft For if my phip haue lust to eate I warrant you phip lacks no meate And then if that hir meat be good And such as like do loue alway She will lay lips theron by the rood And sée that none be cast away For when she once hath felt a fitte Phillip will crie still yit yit yit And to tell trueth he were to blame Which had so fine a Byrde as she To make him all this goodly game Without suspect or iellousie He were a churle and knewe no good Would sée hir faynt for lacke of food Wherfore I sing and euer shall To prayse as I haue often prou'd There is no byrd amongst them all So worthy for to be belou'd Let other prayse what byrd they will Sweet Phillip shal be my byrd still Si fortunatus infoelix ¶ Farewell with a mischeife written by a louer being disdaynefullye abiected by a dame of highe calling VVho had chosen in his place a playe fellovv of baser condition therfore he determined to step a side and before his departure giueth hir this farvvell in verse THy byrth thy beautie nor thy braue attyre Disdaynfull Dame which doest me double wrong Thy hygh estate which sets thy harte on fire Or newe found choyse which cannot serue thee long Shall make me dread with pen for to reherse Thy skittish déedes in this my parting verse For why thou knowest and I my selfe can tell By many vowes how thou to me wert bound And how for ioye thy hart did seeme to swell And in delight how thy desires were drownd When of thy will the walles I did assayle Wherin fond fancie fought for mine auayle And though my mind haue small delight to vaunt Yet must I vowe my hart to thee was true My hand was alwayes able for to daunt Thy slaundrous â—â—oes and kepe theyr tongues in mew My head though dull was yet of such deuise As might haue kept thy name alwayes in price And for the rest my body was not braue But able yet of substaunce to allaye The raging lust wherein thy limbes did raue And quench the coales which kindled thée to playe Such one I was and such alwayes wyl be For worthy Dames but then I meane not thée For thou hast caught a proper paragon A theefe a cowarde and a Peacocke foole An Ase a milkesop and a minion Which hath no oyle thy furyous flames to coole Such on he is a pheare for thée most fit A wandring gest to please thy wauering wit. A theefe I counte him for he robbes vs both Thée of thy name and me of my delight A coward is he noted where he goeth Since euery child is match to him in might And for his pride no more but marke his plumes The which to princke he dayes and nights consumes The rest thy selfe in secret sorte can iudge He rides not me thou knowest his sadell best And though these tricks of thine mought make me grudg And kindle wrath in my reuenging brest Yet of my selfe and not to please thy mind I stand content my rage in rule to binde And farre from thée now must I take my flight Where tongues maye tell and I not sée thy fall Where I maye drinke these druggs of thy dispite To purge my Melancholike mind with all In secrete so my stomacke will I sterue Wishing thee better than thou doest deserue Spraeta tamen viuunt The doale of disdaine written by alouer disdainfully reiected contrary to former promise THe deadly dropes of darke disdayne Which dayly fall on my deserte The lingring sute long spent in vayne Wherof I féele no frute but smart Enforce me now this wordes to write Not all for loue but more for spite The which to the I must rehearse Whom I dyd honour serue and trust And though the musicke of my verse Be plainsong tune both true and iust Content thée yet to here my song For els thou doest me doobble wrong I must alledge and thou canst tell How faithfully I vowed to serue And