hiâ— wife then for any other trade of Marchandize in so much that hee pind her vp in her Chamber and kept himselfe the Key not content with this sitting one day in a great dumpâ— he fell into this meditation Alexander Vandermast his iealious meditation with himselfe THou hast married thy selfe Alexander to a Woman and therefore to a thing light and inconstant whose heart is like to feathers blowne abroad with euery winde whose thoughts aime at euery new obiect thou mightst Vandermast haue foreséene this for thou hast red that Armins of Carthage being earnestly perswaded to marry answered I dare not for if I chance vpon one that is wise shee will be wilfull if wealthie then wanton if poore then peeâ—ish if beautifull then proude if deformed then loathsome and the least of these is able to kill a thousand men Why Alexander did thou not eschew this foreseeing this and knowing them to bee such euils why didst thou loade thy selfe with such a heauie burden oh howe art thou changed what motion hath madded thee with this conceit thou wert woont to say that they were Heauens wealth and earths miracles adorned with the singularitie of proportion to shrowd the excellencie of all perfection as farre excéeding men in vertues as they excell them in beauties resembling Angels in qualities as they are like to Godâ— in perfecâ—neâ—â—â—ing purer in minde then in moulde and yet made of the puritie of man iust they are as giuing loue hir due constant as houlding loyaltie more pretious then life as hardly to be drawne from vnited affection as the Salamanders from the Caâ—ernes of Etna Oh Alexander I would they were so then wert thou as happy as now thou art miserable but no doubt their hearts are made of Iet that draw vp fancie in a minute and let it slip in a moment and their thoughts so fickle that they couet to feede on euery new obiect they sâ—eke to marrie that the husband may couer their faults and like Atheists they count all pardoned that is doone with secrecie She riseth vp saith the Wise man and wipeth her mouth as though shee had made no offence No doubt there be such as thou dooest decipher but torment not thy selfe with Iealousie lâ—t not thy hart suspect what neither thy eye sées by proofe nor thine eares heere by reporte Theodora is vertuous and chaste honour dwels in hir thoughts and modestie in her eyes shee treades vpon the Tortuse and kéepes her house and strayes not abroad with euery wanton giglet She layes not out the tramels of hir hayre to allure mens lookes nor is she wanton in her eye lids she seekes not to companie with strangers nor takes delight in much prattle but as Susanna was to Ioachim and Lucretia to Collatine so is Theodora to Alexander She is like to the vertuous Woman which Salomon sets out in the Prouerbes who eates not her bread with idlenesse shee is vp earlie and late labouring gladlie with her hands she occupies Wooll and Flaxe layes hould vpon the Distaffe and puts hir fingers to the Spindle such a one Alexander is thy Theodora whome Antwarpe admires for hir vertues and thou maist loue for her perfection Such she seemes indeedâ— but women are subtillâ— shewing themselues to disdaine that which they most desire and vnder the maske of a pure life shadowe a thousand deceitfull vanitiesâ— She is faire and many eyes awaite vpon her beautie and women are weake creatures some women I see many Marchants flocke to my house and amongst them all perhaps she will like one tush for all her shew of constancie and vertuous perfection I will not trust her nor beléeue her for women are subtile to allure and slipperie to deceiue hauing their hearts made of waxe ready to receiue euery impression and with this he starte vp and wentâ— to looke if his wiues Chamber doore were safe locâ—t and so went about his businesse but so discontent in his thoughts as all the world might espie his gréefe by his passions Theodora saw all this and perceiued the folly of her husband and brookt it with great patience for that she knew her selfe free from al intended suspition coueting with her forcible effects of dâ—tie to race out the cankred rust of Iealousie that bred such secret and silent iarres betwixt her and her Alexander pind vp thus as a haâ—k in a mew to solace her she had recourse to her book aiming in all her Orizons for grace that her actions might be directed and the course of her life so leaueld that no blemish might taint the brightnes of her credit otherwhile for recreation she would take her Lute in her hand and sing this Ditie Theodoras Song SEcret alone and silent in my bed When follies of my youth doe touch my thought And reason tels me that all flesh is sinne And all is vaine that so by man is wrought Hearts sighes Eies teares With sorrow throb when in my mind I see All that man doth is foolish vanitie When pride presents the state of honors pompe And seekes to set aspiring mindes on fire When wanton Loue brings beauty for a bait To scortch the eie with ouer hot desire Hearts sighes Eies teares VVith sorrow throb when in my mind I see That pride and loue are extreame vanitie Oh Loue that ere I loued yet loue is chast My fancie likâ— none but my husbands face But when I thinke I loued none but him Nor would my thought giue any other gracâ— Harts sighes Eyes teares With sorrow throb when in my minde I see The purest loue is toucht with Iealousie Alas mine eye had neuer wanton lookes A modest blush did euer taint my Cheekes If then suspition with a faulse conceipt The ruine of my fame and honour seekes Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my mind doth see Chaste thoughts are blamd with causelesse iealousie My husbands will was ere to me a lawe To please his fancie is my whole delight Then if he thinkes whatsoeuer I do is bad And with suspition chastitie requight Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my minde dooth see Dutie and loue are quit with iealousie No deeper hell can fret a womans minde Then to be tainted with a false suspect Then if my constant thoughts be ouercrost When pratling fond can yeeld no true detect Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my minde doth see Duty and loue are quit with iealousie Seeke I to please he thinkes I flatter then Obedience is a couer for my fault When thus he deemes I treade my shoo awrie And going right he still suspects I halt Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my minde doth see Dutie and loue are quit with iealousie No salue I haue to cure this restlesse soare But sighes to God to change his iealious minde Then shall I praise him in applauding himns And when the want of this mistrust I finde Harts sighes Eyes teares Shall cease and Lord
GREENES VISION Written at the instant of his death Conteyning a penitent passion for the folly of his Pen. Sero sed serio Imprinted at London for Thomas Newman and are to be sould at his shop in Fleetestreete in Saint Dunstons Churchyard To the right worshipfull and his especiall good friend M. Nicholas Sanders of Ewell Esquier T. Newman wisheth all felicitiâ— WERE I as able as I am willing Right Worshipfull to shewe my selfe thankful for your manie kindnesses extended vnto me some more accomplisht Dedication then this should haue offred it selfe to your iudiciall view at this instant It was one of the last workes of a wel known Author therefore I hope it will be more acceptable Manie haue published repentaunces vnder his name but none more vnfeigned then this being euerie word of his owne his own phrase his own method The experience of many vices brought forth this last vision of vertue I recommend it intirely to your worships euen ballancing censure None haue more insight then you into matters of wit All men of Art acknowledge you to bee an especiall Mecenas and supporter of learning in these her despised latter daies I am one that haue no interest in knowledge but the inseperate loue that I beare to them that professe it That attendant loue on good letters striues to honor you in whome Art is honoured I thinke not this pamphlet any way proportionable in woorth with your worshippes patronage but it is my desire to yeelde some encrease to your fame in anie thing that I shall imprint Thus wishing to your worshippe that felicitie and contentment which your owne best gouerned thoughtes doe aime at I most humblie take my leaue Your VVorships most bounden T. Newman To the Gentlemen Readers Health GEntlemen in a vision before my death I foresee that I am like to sustaine the shame of many follies of my youth when I am shrowded in my winding sheete O let not iniurious tongues triumph ouer a dead carcase Now I am sick and sorrow hath wholy seaâ—d on me vaine I haue beene let not other men shewe themselues vaine in reproching my vanitie I craue pardon of you all if I haue offended any of you with laciuious Pamphleâ—ing Many things I haue wrote to get money which I could otherwise wish to be supprest Pouertie is the father of innumerable infirmities in seeking to salue priuate wantes I haue made my selfe a publique laughing stock Hee that commeth in Print setteth himselfe vp as a common marke for euery one to shoote at I haue shotte at many abuses ouer sâ—oâ—â—e my selfe in describing of some where truth failed my inuention hath stood my friend God forgiue me all my misdeameanours now in the best lust of my yeares death I feare will depriue me of any further proceeding in securitie This booke hath many things which I would not haue written on my Tombe I write this last let it be my last will and testament Farewell if I liue you shall heare of me in deuinitie in the meane time accept the will for the deede and speake well of me when I am dead Yours dying Robert Greene. GREENES VISION After I was burdened with the penning of the Cobler of Canterbury I wared passing melancholy as grieuing that either I shold be wrong with enuy or wronged with suspition But wheÌ„ I entred into the consideratioÌ„ that slander spareth not Kinges I brookt it with the more patience thought that as the strongest gustes offend lesse the low shrubs than the tall Cedaâ—s 〈◊〉 the blemish of report would make a lesse scarre in a cottage than in a pallace yet I could not but conceit it hardly and so in a discontented humor I sat me down vpon my bed-side and began to cal to remembrance what fond and wanton lines had past my pen how I had bent my course to a wrong shore as beating my brains about such vanities as were little profitable â—owing my seâ—d in the sand and so reaping nothing but thornes and thistles As this I recounted ouer the follies that youth led me vnto I stept to my Standish that stâ—â—â— hard by and writ this Ode Greenes Ode of the vanitie of wanton writings THough Tytirus the Heards swaine Phillis loue-mate felt the paine That Cupid fiers in the eâ—e Till they loue or till they die Straigned ditties from his pipe VVith pleasant voyce and cunning stripâ—â— Telling in his song how faire Phillis eie-browes and hir haireâ— How hir face past all supposes For white Lillies for red Roses Though he sounded on the hils Such foâ—d passions as loue wils That all the Swaines that foulded by Flockt to heare his harmonie And vowed by Pan that Tytirus Did Poet-like his loues discusse That men might learne mickle good By the verdict of his mood Yet olde Menalcas ouer-ag'd That many winters there had wag'd Sitting by and hearing this Said their wordes were all amisse For quoth he such wanton laies Are not worthie to haue praiseâ— Iiggâ—s and ditties of fond loues Youth â—o mickle follie mooues And tould this old said saw to thee Which Coridon did learne to me Tis shame and sin for pregnant wits To spend their skill in wanton fits Martiall was a bonnie boy He writ loues griefe and loues ioy He tould what wanton lookes passes Twixt the Swaines and the lasses And mickle wonder did he write Of Womens loues and their spight But for the follies of his pen He was hated of most men For they could say t'was sin and shame For Schollers to endite such game Quaint was Ouid in his â—ime Chiefest Poet of his time What he could in wordes rehearse Ended in a pleasing verseâ— Apollo with his ay-greene baies Crownd his head to shew his praise And all the Muses did agree He should be theirs and none but he This Poet chaunted all of loue Of Cupids wings and Venus doueâ— Of faire Corima and her hew Of white and red and vaines blew How they loued and how they greed And how in fancy they did speed His Elegies were wanton all Telling of loues pleasings thrall And cause he would the Poet seeme That best of Venus lawes could deeme Strange precepts he did impart And writ three bookes of loues art There he taught how to woe What in loue men should doe How they might soonest winne Honest women vnto sinne Thus to tellen all the truth He infected Romes youth And with his bookes and verses brought That men in Rome nought els saught But how to tangle maid or wife With honors breach throgh wanton life The foolish sort did for his skill Praise the deepnesse of his quill And like to him said there was none Since died old Anacrâ—on But Romes Augustus worlds wonder Brookt not of this foolish blonder Nor likt he of this wanton verse That loues lawes did rehearse For well he saw and did espie Youth was sore impaird thereby And by experience he finds VVanton bookes infect the minds Which made him straight for reward Though the
censure seemed hard To bannish Ouid quite from Rome This was great Augustus doome For quoth he Poets quils Ought not for to teach men ils For learning is a thing of prise To shew precepts to make men wise And neere the Muses sacred place Dwels the virtuous minded graces Tis shame and sinne then for good wits To shew their skill in wanton fits This Augustus did reply And as he said so think I. AFter I had written this Ode a déepe insight of my follies did pearce into the center of my thoughtes that I felt a passionat remorse discouering such perticuler vanities as I had soothed vp withall my forepassed humors I began to consider that that Astrea that virtue that metaphisicall influence which maketh one man differ from an other in excellence béeing I meane come from the heavens was a thing infested into man from God the abuse whereof I found to be as preiudicial as the right vser thereof was profitable that it ought to be imployed to wit in painting out a goddesse but in setting out the praises of God not in discouering of beauty but in discouering of vertues not in laying out the platformes of loue nor in telling the déepe passions of fancy but in perswading men to honest honorable actions which are the steps that lead to the true and perfect felicity the serpent is then therefore an odious creature for that he sucketh poyson from that Odorifferous flower from whence the painefull Bee gathers her sweete Honnie And that Lapidarie is holden a man woorthlesse in the worlde that will wrest the secret operation of the Diamond to a deadly Aconiton And such schollers deserue much blame as out of that pretious fountaine of learning will fetch a pernitious water of vanitie the trees that growe in Indea haue rough banks but they yéeld pretious gummes and the stones in Sicillia haue a duskie couller but being cut they are a orient as the sunne so the outward phrase is not to be measured by pleasing the eare but the inward matter by profiting the mind the puffing glorie of the loftie stile shadowing wanton conceipts is like to the skin of a serpent that contriues impoysoned flesh or to a panther that hath a beautiful hide but a beastly paunch for as the flowers of Egipt please the eye but infest the stomach and the water of the riuer Orume cooleth the hand but killeth the heart so bookes that contriue scurilitie may for a while breed a pleasing conceit and a merrie passion but for euery dram of mirth they leaue behinde them in the readers mind a Tunfull of infecting mischiefs like to the Scorpion that flatters with his head and stings with his taile These premisses driue me into a maze especially when I considered that wee were borne to profit our countrie not onely to pleasure our selves then the discommodities that grew from my vaine pamphlets began to muster in my sight then I cald to minde how many idle fancies I had made to passe the Presse how I had pestred Gentlemens eyes and mindes with the infection of many fond passions rather infecting them with the allurements of some inchanted Aconiton then tempered their thought with any honest Antidote which consideration entered thus farre into my conscience Greenes trouble of minde FAther of mercie whose gratious fauour is more pliant to pardon then wee to become penitent who are more willing to shadowe the contrite heart with remission then we to offer our selues with hartie repentance I heere in the humbleness of heart proâ—â—raâ—e my selfe before the throne of thy maiestie vphoulden with mercy and loue as one blushing at the blemish of my vile and detestable offences wherewith I haue purchased the burthen of thy wrath being so heauie a load that the shoulders of my poore diseased conscience being ready to sinke vnder so heauie a weight destitute of any meane to support the same or to cure the passion of such a maladie but by the salue that growes from the death of thy bitter passion who camst into the world not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance When I doe great Physition of our déepest misdéeds but glaunce mine â—ye at the obiect of my sinne and Sicco pede passe them ouer as faults of course and follies of youth yet I am pierced with so sharpe a passion that I cannot conceale the greef of my conscience but it bursteth foorth in sighes and groanes insomuch that I thinke life an enemie to my weale and I wish the beginning of my dayes had béene the hower of my departure But when with a strict insight I say Redde rationem villicationis and take a straight accompt what the déedes of my youth haue beene how full of vanitie and fond conceited fancies oh then what a fearefull terror dooth torture my minde what a dungeon of dollours lyes open to swallow me As the Scorpion stings deadly and the Uipers bites mortally so dooth the worme of my conscience grype without ceasing And yet O Lord a deeper miserie for when with a foreséeing consideration I looke into the time to come wherein the secret coniecture of my faults and offences shall be manifested and laide to my charge and that I know Stipendâ—um peccati mors Oh then whether shall I flie from thy presence shall I take the wings of the morning and absent my selfe can the hideous mountaines hide me can wealth redéeme sinne can beautie counteruaile my faults or the whole world counterpoyse the ballance of mine offences oh no and therefore am I at my wits end wishing for death and the end of my miserable dayes and yet then the remembrance of hell and the torments thereof driue me to wish the contrarie But when I couet long life and to see more dayes then this imagination wrings me I thinke as I was conceiued in sinne and from my birth inclined to ill so the sequell of my dayes will growe a Malo in penis and the longer the woorse the more yeares the more offences for the life of man is as the Panther the longer he liues the more spots hee hath in his skinne and the Onix the longer it is kept the more stroakes it hath So our nature is so corrupt that we renew not our bill with the Eagle but growe blacker and blacker with the Halciones When I ruminate on these premisses then I loath the length of more dayes fearing least the aptnesse of my corrupt flesh through the rebellion thereof against the spirit heape greater plagues vpon my poore soule What shall I doe then Lord thus distrest on euery syde hauing no hope of comfort left me but feare and dispaire If I séeke to man I know the strength of Sampson the pollicie of Achitophell the wisdome of Salomon to bee vaine in this respect for all haue synned and are within the compasse of my miserable condition being payned with this maladie to whome shall I flie for medicine euen to the swéete Phisytian of all sycklie soules to
thée that canst with a word cure all my sorrowes to the kinde Samaritan that wilt powre wyne and Oyle into my woundes set mee on thine owne beast and take care for the saluing of my hurtâ— that canst say thy sinnes are forgiuen and I am whole To thée I come ouer heated with the thirst of sinne for water that may spring in me a Well of lyfe I am heauie loaden and I will lay the burden on thy back for thou art a promised mediatour for the penitent vnto God the Father It is thou that seekest the wandring sheepe and bringest him home on thy shoulderâ— thou wilt not loose that groate but findest it with ioy thou weepest in the neck of thy repenting Sonne and killest the fat Calfe for his welcome thou hast cryed out in the Streetes Were your sinnes as red as Scarlet Ile make them as white as Snowe and were they as Purple I will make them as white as Wooll These proclaimed promises is comfort this heauenly voice is consolation whereby I am reuiued and my conscience lightned of the follies of my youth nowe haue I found the true and onely phisition for my long diseased soule euen he that came to heale the penitent Giue me grace Lord then to take perfect handfast of these comfortable sayings stretch foorth thy hand and I will with Peter spring into the waterâ— for thou wilt vphould me let me touch with faith the hem of thy Uesture and then I shall enioy the true working of that most singular medicine thy death bitter passion who sufferedst for our sinnes and on the crosse criedst Consumatum est to take away the punishment due for our transgression oh thy mercy is infinite whereby thou callest vs thy loue vnsearchable whereby thou fauourest vs and thy wisdome incomprehensible whereby thou guidest vs all these doo appeare to be imparted towards me in that thou stirrest vp in my heart a loathing of my sinne and that the follies of my young yeares are odious in my remembrance Sith then O Lord thou hast toucht me with repentance and hast called me from the wildernesse of wickednesse and extreame dispaire to place me in the pleasant fields of sincâ—ritie truth and godlinesse and so shadowe me with the wings of thy grace that my minde being frée from all sinfull cogitations I may for euer kéepe my soule an vndefâ—â—ed member of thy church and in faith loue feare humblenesse of heart praier and dutifull obedience shew my selfe regenerate and a reformed man from my former follies BEing in this déepe meditation lying comtemplating vpon my bed I fell a slâ—epe where I had not lyne long in a slumber but that me thought I was in a faire medowe sitting vnder an Oake viâ—wing the beautie of the sunne which then shewed himselfe in his pride as thus I sat gâ—sing on so gâ—rgâ—ous an obiectâ— I spied comming downe the Meade two ancient men aged for their foreheads were the Calenders of their yearesâ— and the whitenesse of their haires bewrayed the number of their dayesâ— their pace waâ— answerable to their age and In diebus illis hung vpoÌ„ their garments their visages were wrinckled but well featured and their countenance conteyned much grauitie These two ould men came to me and sat downe by me the one of the right hand and the other on the left looking vpon them earnestly I espyed written on the ones brest Chawcer and on the others Gower Chawcer was thus attired as néere as I can describe it The description of sir Geffery Chawcer HIs stature was not very tall Leane he was his legs were small Hosd within a stock of red A buttond bonnet on his head From vnder which did hang I weene Siluer haires both bright and sheene His beard was white trimmed round His countnance blithe and merry found A Sleeuelesse Iacket large and wide With many pleights and skirts side Of water Chamlet did he weare A whittell by his belt he beare His shooes were corned broad before His Inck horne at his side he wore And in his hand he bore a booke Thus did this auntient Poet looke Thus was Chawcer attired and not vnlike him was Iohn Gower whose description take thus The description of Iohn Gower LArge he was his height was long Broad of brest his lims were strong But couller pale and wan his looke Such haue they that plyen their booke His head was gray and quaintly shorne Neately was his beard worne His visage graue sterne and grim Cato was most like to himâ— His Bonnet was a Hat of blew His sleeues straight of that same hewâ— A surcoate of a tawâ—â—e die Hung in pleights ouer his thigh A breech close vnto his dock Handsomd with a long stock Pricked before were his shoone He wore such as others doone A bag of redâ— by his side And by that his napkin tide Thus Iohn Gower did appeare Quaint attired as you heere Sitting as a man in a maze at the view of these two ancient Poets as well at the grauitie of their lookes as the strangenesse of their attire At last sir Geffrey Chaucer start vp and leaning on his staffe with a smiling countenance began thus to breake silence My friend quoth he thy countenance bewray thy thoughts and thy outward lookes thy inward passions for by thy face I see the figure of a discontented minde and the very glaunce of thine eyes is a map of a disquieted conscience Take héede I tell thée sorrowes concealed are the more sower and gréefes smoothered if they burst not out will make the heart to breake I confesse it is best to bee secretarie to a mans selfe and to reueale the inwarde thoughts to a stranger is more follie yet I tell thée better brooke an inconuenience then a mischiefe and be counted a little fond then too froward Therefore if thy gréefe be not to priuate or so néere to thy selfe that thou wilt not bewray it to thy shirte manie festring sores launched are the sooner cured and cares discouered are the sooner eased thou hast heere two whome experience hath taught many medicines for yong mens maladies I am sir Geffrey Chaucer this Iohn Gower what we can in counsaile shall be thy comfort and for secrecie we are no blabs Hâ—ering sir Geffrey Chaucer thus familiar I tooke heart at grasse to my selfe and thought nowe I might haue my doubt well debated betwéene two such excellent schollers wherevpon putting of my hat with great reuerence I made this replie Graue Lawreats the tipes of Englands excellence for Poetry and the worlds wonders for your wits all haile and happily welcome for your presence is a salue for my passions and the inward gréefes that you perceiue by my outward lookes are alreadie halfe eased by your comfortable promise I cannot denie but my thoughts are discontent and my sences in a great maze which I haue damd vp a long while as thinking best to smoother sorrow with silence but now I will set fire on the straw and lay open my