troopes Ore-match vs thus by might That comes with fearefull cowardice with vs thiâ— day to fight Shall Tudor from Plantaginet Win thus the crowne away No Richards noble wind foretells that ours will be the day For Golden crownes we brauely fight And gold shall be their gaine In great abundance giuen to them that liues this day vnslaine These words being spoke the battles ioynd Where blowes they brauely change And Richmond like a Lyon bold performed wonders strange And made such slaughters through the camp Till he King Richard spiâ—s Who fighting long together there at last the Tyrant dyes Thus ended Englands wofull Warre Usurping Richard dead King Henry faire Elizabeth in princely sort did wed For he was then made Englands King And she his crowned Quéene So twixt these houses long at strife a vnity was séene FINIS A Lamentable Song of Lady Elinor daughter to the Duke of Buckingham who dyed for loue of one Captaine Ienkenson that had been a Prentise of London who went to the siege of Ierusalem with Edward the first then King of England To the tune of Rogero IN England liued once a Duke That had a daughter braue To whom his Dukedome and estate he from all others gaue And dying left faire Elinor To be his onely heire Whâ—se minde vpon a Captaines loue was setled deepe and deare This Captaine gallant Ienkenson By name then called so In prison lay for want of meanes and money he did owe. But loue so deare assailed her That she must loue or dye And none but onely he aliue within her heart did lie So watching fit conuenient time She to the prison went And vnderneath his window then full many a teare she spent But entring in her eyes beheld The image of her heart To whom her loue and liking soone She friendly did impart And hauing made her purpose knowne My dearest friend quoth she I haue tane order for thy debts and here I set thee free With all my land my loue and life And whatsoere is mine Take all and giue me liberty that here haue caused thine No sooner was he got at large And wealth relieu'd his woe But thence vnto Ierusalem did Englands Edward goe With whom this Captaine Ienkenson Was nobly entertainde And so vnkindly went from her as one whom he disdaind Which when she heard she tore her hayre And cast her on the ground And being ouerprest with griefe she fell into a sownd But afterward recouering sence This Letter she did write And sent it after him to read as héere I will recite FINIS The Letter To the same tune WHat faults of mine haue caused this My dearest friend tell me If I haue been the meanes thereof then mournfull may I be My loue thou knowest deare Ienkenson Full many a Lord hath sought Yet all haue mist saue thou alone and thou setst me at naught If thy deâ—â—res be so to warres Then warre sweet loue with me For Cupids gallant soldiers still the sweetest warriers be With thée I le liue with thee I le dye With thée I le loose or gaine Returne sweet loue for in thy life Consists the liues of twaine Most wisely valiant are those men That backe their armed steeds In Courtly tilts in time of peace to breake their staues like reeds Where not the dint of wounding swords But some deuice of loue They may their manhoods courteously before their Ladies prooue Where Ladies doffe their louers helmes And kisse where Beauers hid And parley vnder Canopies how well or ill they did Retire therefore retire sweetheart Where if thou wilt be armd Come fight vpon my bosome heere and so escape vnharmd But now me thinkes I see thy lookes Quite changed in thy face Me thinkes thy comlinesse and gate hath lost their wonted grace Me thinkes I see thy manly limbes With Armors burthen lame And warlike weapons wounding deepe thy noble bosome maime I see thee faint with Summers heate And droope with winters cold I see thee not as late thou wast for young thou art growne olde And sorrow greatly for to know What now I would not see Thy dearest Lady thus in vaine to plead for loue to thee Thus when my griefes my sighes teares Shall come vnto thy view Then wilt thou find by these my paines my loue is deare and true But these my words thou carst not for I sée thou art vnkind Yet here to ease my dying heart in letters take my minde Captaine Ienkinsons Answere I haue perusd I know not what forsooth thy scroule of loue In hope by these thy flattering lines My setled minde to moue But I disdaine to talke of loue much lesse in loue to be For martiall druins and warlike stéeds more better pleaseth me The Bées that sweetest hony beares haue likwise smarting stings And thou no whit dost want a bait that to repentance brings Content thee therefore Elinor thou temperst loue by art Although it come vnto mine eyes it shall not touch my heart When sea shal flame when Sun shal fréeâ—e and mortall men shall die And riuers ouerflow their bankes in loue will then be I. When these shall be and I not be then may I chance to loue And then the strangest change you le see that I a louer proue Let beauers hide not kisses hurt my lippes for lippes vnfit Let wounded limbes not silken loues on top of honour sit I scorne a Souldier that should stoope to please a louers mind That fights for Fame in fields of blood should alter thus from kind Yet some there be whose maiden hayres no sooner buds on chin But they to loue our Ladies faire doe wantonly begin And wins them soone who would be won and being won with speed They gained haue a crop of corne that scarce is worth the seed These loue in sport but leaue in spight as I haue found it true And being thus so easily won are changed for a new But kindnesse must haue kindâ—st vse though kind be hardly one Their kindnesse then I must refuse because I will haue none And strange it were a Souldier I should loue this English maid The wonders seuen should then be eight could loue me so perswade But loue er hate fare ill or well I thus conclude my minde My welcome when I come to thée Shall surely proue vnkinde This Answer brought to Elinor such inward sorrow bred That she in reading of these lines poore Lady fell downe dead Where her deare loue and gentle life Had both together end And as we may suppose in death her soule did liue his friend For she by Will did him bequeath Her substance and estate Thus loue bâ—ing grounded in the heart can neuer turne to hate Her wealth her meanes and all she had This Captaine did possesse Which brought vnto his grieued soule much woe and wretchednesse For comming from Ierusalem And entring on the same To view what wealth the Lady left he to her Chamber came Where as the Ladies picture hung With which he
England and King Edwards heire by right Lord Guilford and the Lady Iane Were wedded by their parents wils The right from Mary so was tane Which drew them on to further ils But marke the end of this misdeed Mary was crowned crowned crowned and they to death decreed And being thus adiudged to die For these their parents haughty aimes That thinking thus to mount on high Their children King Queene proclaimes But in such aymes no blessings be When as ten thousand thousand thousand their shamefull endings see Sweet Princes they deserud no blame That thus must die for fathers cause And bearing of so great a name To contradict our English lawes Let all men then conclude in this That they are haples haples haples whose parents doe amisse Now who more great then they of late Now who more wretched then they are And who more lofty in estate Thus sodenly consumd with care Then Princes all set downe this rest And say the golden golden golden golden meane is alwayes best Prepard at last drew on the day Whereon these Princes both must die Lord Guilford Dudley by the way His dearest Lady did espye Whilst he vnto the blocke did goe She in her window weeping weeping did lament his woe Their eyes that lookt for loue ere-while Now blubberd were with pearled teares And euery glance and loners smile Where turnd to dole and deadly feares Lord Guilfords life did bleeding lie Expecting Angels Angels Angels siluer wings to mount on hie His dearest Lady long did looke When she likewise to blocke should goe Where sweetly praying on her booke She made no signe of outward woe But wisht that she had Angels wings To see that golden golden golden sight of heauenly things And mounting on the Scaffold then Where Guilfords liuelesse body lay I come quoth she thou flower of men For death shall not my soule dismay The gates of heauen stand open wide To rest for euer and euer and euer and thus these gentle Princes dyed Their parents likewise lost their heads For climing thus one step too high Ambitious towers haue slippery leades And fearefull to a wise mans eye For onee amisse great houses fall Therfore take warning warning warning by this you gallants all FINIS A ioyfull song of the deserued praises of good Queene Elizabeth how Princely she behaued her selfe at Tilbury Campe in 88. when the Spaniards threatned the inuasion of this Kingdome To the tune of King Henries going to Bullaine OF a Noble Noble Princesse Englands late commanding Mistris King Henries daughter faire Elizabeth She was such a maiden Queene As her like was neuer seene of any woman-kind vpon the earth Her name in golden numbers May written be with wonders that liude beloued foure and forty yeares And had the guift of nature all That to a Princesse might befall as by her noble vertues well appeares With Maiesty admired Her subiects she required that loue for loue might equally be shown Preferring a publique peace Then any priuate mans increase that quietly we stil may keepe our owne UUen Ambassies did come From any Prince in Chrisâ—endome her entertainments were so Princely sweet She likewise knew what did belong To euery language speech and tongue where grace vertue did together meet No Princesse more could measure Her well beseeming pleasure in open Court amongst her Ladies faire For musicke and for portly gate The world afforded not her mate so excellent her carriage was and faire Kingly states oppressed And such as were distressed with meanes and mony daily shee relieud As law of Nations did her bind To strangers she was euer kind and such as with calamities were grieueâ— And when into this kingdome Bloudy warres did threatning come her highnes would be ready with good wil As it in eighty eight was séene UUhen as this thrice renowned Quéene gaue noble courage to her soldiers still This more then worthy woman Like to a noble Amazon in siluer plated Armour brauely went Unto her Campe at Tilbery With many Knights of Chiualry coragiously her Army to content But being there ariued With noble heart she striued to giue them all what they desird to haue A louely grace and countenance Smiling with perseuerance to whom so swéet a countenance she gaue Upon a Drumhead sitting As it was best besitting for such a royall Princes thus to speake A Soldier I will liue and dye Feare shall neuer make me â—â—ye nor any danger leaue to vndertake With that amidst the Battle The Musquetires did rattle a peale of powder flaming all in fire The Cannons they did lowdly play To please her Maiesty that day which she in heart did louingly desire Her highnes thus delighted She roially requited the noble captaines and the souldâ—ers all For golden Angels flew amaine Round about the warlike traine each one rewarded was both great smal With that in noble manner To Englands fame and honour the thundring shot began to play againe And for this royall princes sake Ratling made the ground to shake in spight of all their enemies of Spaine The more to be commended She graciously befriended full many a worthy gentlemen that day By knighting them in noble sort As it had bin in Englands court such gallant graces had she euery way So fréely kind and louing She was by her approuing to rich poore that came vnto her grace Not any one but found her still A friend to good a foe to ill and euer vertue swéetly would imbrace But now in heauens high Pallace She liues in ioy and solace committing all her charge vnto the King Of whose admired Maiesty Ruling vs so quietly reioycingly we Subiects all doe sing FINIS A new Song of the strange liues of two yong Princes in England who became two Shepherds vpon Salisbury Plaine and after restored to their former estates To the Tune of the Merchants man IN Kingly Stephens raigne Two royall Dukes there was That all our other English Lords for greatnesse far did passe The one of Deuonshire namdâ— that had a daughter faire Which he appointed at his death to be his only heire And her in loue commits Unto the Cornewall Duke Whom he with tendernes and care most kindly vndertâ—oke The promise being made The Duke of Deuonshire dyes And all that Cornewall vow'd to doe he afterwards denies Yet well he educates the Maid That Maudlin she was growne The fairest Lady vnder Heauen for beauty being knowne And many Princes sought for loue But none might her obtaine For couetous Cornewall to himselfe the dukedome sought to gaine So on a time Prince Raymond chanc't This comely dame to see With whom he fell so deepe in loue as any Prince might be Unhappy youth what should he do She still was kept in mew Nor he nor any of his friends admitted to her view One while he melancholly pines Himselfe with griefe away Anon he thinkes by force of Armes to win her if he may Untill at length commanding loue Became to be his Iudge And changâ—d
come or tarry FINIS The Weauers Shuttle or a Loue-Song made by a Preptise of London that loued a yong Gentlewoman in the countrey doubting of her constancy To the tune of Riding to Rumford OH how I sigh and sob Oh how I languish Oh how my heart doth throb with griefe and anguish My song I cannot tune For loue I do consume I cannot worke in Loome hang vp my shuttle My treadles all stand still I cannot vse them My shuttle and my quill I will refuse them My batten and my slay And all my Leses play Hey hoe till holiday hang vp my shuttle Yet though they do stand still I must be doing And to my loue in good will I must a wooing I cannot merry be But in her company Sweet heart I come to thee and leaue my shuttle And when I visit thee And haue my wishes And entertained be with dainty kisses â— how my heart doth grieue So soone my loue to leaue And go againe to weaue and vse my shuttle Yet shuttle flye apace Till thou art weary For I must weaue my laâ—e sing and be merry Till the next holiday Then thou and I will play Hay ho cast care away hang vp my shuttle If thou vnconstant proue I le not respect thee But choose another loue and quite reiect thee A Weauer thou shalt know Scornes to be serued so Though my true heart I show vsing my shuttle Gentlemen Weauers all That heares my ditty Pardon my verses small rude and vnwitty If they do you offend Next I make I will mend And so my Song doth end reach me my shuttle FINIS Of the inconueniences by Marriage To the tune of When Troy towne FOnd wanton youth makes loue a god Which after proueth ages rod Their youth their time their wit and art They spend in seeking of their smart And which of follies is the chiefe They woo their wo they wed their griefe All find it so that wedded are Loues sweet they find enfold sowre eare His pleasures pleasingst in the eye Which tasted once with loathing die they find of follies t is the chiefe their wo to woo to wed their griefe If for their owne content they chose Forthwith their kindreds loâ—e they loose And if their kindred they content For euer after they repent O t is of all our bodies chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe In bed what strifes are bred by day Our puling wiues do open lay None friends none foes we must esteeme But whom they so vouchsafe to deeme O t is of all our follies chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe Their smile we want if ought they want And either we their wils must grant Or die they will or are with child Their laughing must not be beguild O t is of all our follies chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe Foule wiues are iealous faire wiues fall Marriage to either binds vs thrall Wherefore being bound we must obey And forced be perforce to say Of all our follies t is the chiefe Our wo to woo to wed our griefe FINIS The Shepheards Ioy. To the tune of Barra Faustus Dreame COme sweet Loue let sorrow cease â—anish frownes leaue of discention Loue warres make the sweetest peace hearts vniting by contention Sun-shine followes after raine Sorrowes ceasing this is pleasing All proues faire againe after sorrow soone comes ioy Try me proue me trust me loue me This will cure annoy Winter hides his frosty face Blushing now to be more veâ—â—ed Spring return'd with pleasant grace Floraes treasures are renued Lambes reioyce to sée the Spring Shipping leaping sporting playing Birds for ioy do sing so let the Spring of ioy renue Laughing colling kissing playing And giue loue his due See those bright sunnes of thine eyes Clouded now with black disdaining Shall such stormy tempests rise to set loues faire dayes a rayning All are glad the skies being cleare Lighly ioying sporting toying With their louely cheare but as sad to see a shower Sadly drooping lowring pâ—wting Turning sweet to sower Then sweet loue dispearse this cloude That obscures this scornefull coying When all creatures sings aloude filling hearts with ouer ioying As euery bird do choose her make Gently billing she is willing Her true loue to take with such words let vs contend Woing doing wedding bedding And so our strife shall end FINIS A pleasant Song Intituled You pretty wantons warble YOu pretty birds that sit and sing amidst the shady vallies And sée how sweetly Phillis walkes within her garden allyes Go pretty birds vnto her bowre sing pretty birds she may not lowre For feare my fairest Phillis frowne you pretty wantons warble Go tell her through your chirping bils as you by me are bidden To her is only knowne my loue which from the world is hidden Go pretty birds and tell her so see that your notes fall not too low For feare c. Go tune your voyces harmony and sing I am her Louer Straine low and hie that euery note with sweet content may moue her Tell her it is her louer true that sendeth loue by you and you Aye me me thinkes I see her frowne you pretty wantons warble Fly fly make haste me thinks shée s falne into a pleasant slumber Sing round about her Rosie bower that waking she may wonder And he that hath the swéetest voyce tell â—er I le neuer change my choyce Aye me c Fly pretty birds and in your bils beare me a louing letter Unto my fairest Phillis and with your sweet musick gréet her Go pretty birds vnto her hye haste pretty birds vnto her flye Aye me c. And if you finde her sadly seâ— about her swéetly chaunt it Untill she smiling raise her head nere cease vntill she grant it Go pretty birds and tell her I as you haue done will to her flye Aye me c. Henceforth refuse you pretty birds to chiepe in vnâ—outh places And draw you all together there where louely Phillis traces There pretty birds about her sing there pretty birds make ecchoes ring For feare my fairest Phillis frowne you pretty wantons warble FINIS The Louers lamentation for the death of faire Phillis HOw can I chuse but sigh and mone and euermore sit weeping My fairest Phillis she is gone death hath her in his keeping O death how durst thou be so bold to lay my Phillis in the mold Aye me aye me aye woe is me cease pretty birds to warble Cease now your chirping melody for Spring times past and gone And Winters chilling stormes deny your harmony be showne Keepe you your nests I le keepe my den where thousand frightfull obiects been Aye me c. Her shadow hanging in my sight addes to my griefe and anguish The substance wanting in the â—ght for which I lye and languish The pretty toyes she vsde to wâ—are lie scattered now some here some there â—ye me aye me c. So that the place when she suruiude which was a place of pleasure
THE GOLDEN Garland of Princely pleasures and delicate Delights Wherein is conteined the Histories of many of the Kings Queenes Princes Lords Ladies Knights and Gentlewomen of his Kingdome Being most pleasant Songs and Sonnets to sundry new Tunes now most in vse The third time Imprinted enlarged and corrected by Rich. Iohnson Deuided into two Parts Printed at London by A. M. for Thomas Langley are to be sold at his Shop ouer against the Sarazens Head without Newgate 1620. A Lamentable Song of the death of King LEARE and his three DAVGHTERS To the tune of When flying Fame KIng Leare once ruled in this Land with princely power and peace And had all things with hearts content that might his ioyes encrease Amongst those guifts that nature gaue three daughters faire had he So princely séeming beautifull as fayrer could not be So on a time it pleasd the King a question thus to mooue Which of his daughters to his grace could shew the dearest loue For to my age you bring content quoth he then let me heare Which of you thrée in plighted troth the kindest will appeare To whom the eldest thus began deare father mine quoth she Before your face to doe you good my blood shall tendred be And for your sake my bleeding heart shall heere be cut in twaine Ere that I see your reuerent age the smallest griefe sustaine And so will I the second said deare father for your sake The worst of all extremities I le gently vndertake And serue your highnesse night and day with diligence and loue That sweet content and quietnesse discomforts may remoue In doing so you glad my soule the aged King replyed But what sayst thou my yongest Girle How is thy loue allyed My loue quoth yong Cordela then which to your grace I owe Shall be the duty of a childe and that is all I le shew And wilt thou shew no more quoth he then doth thy duty binde I well perceiue thy loue is small when as no more I finde Hence forth I banish thee my Court thou art no child of mine Nor any part of this my Realme by fauour shall be thine Thy elder sisters loues are more then well I can demand To whome I equally bestow my kingdome and my land My pompall state and all my goods that louingly I may With these thy sisters be maintaind vntill my dying day Thus flattering speeches won renowne by these two sisters here The third had â—anselesse banishment yet was her loue more deare For poore Cordela patiently went wandring vp and downe Unhelpt vnpittied gentle maid through many an English towne Untill at last in famous France she gentler fortunes found Though poore and bare yet was she deeâ—d the fairest on the ground Where when the King her vertues heard and his faire Lady séene With full consent of all his Court he made his wife and Quéene Her father old King Leare this while with his two daughters stayed Forgetfull of their promisd loues full soone the same denaide And liuing in Quéene Ragans Court the elder of the twaine She tooke from him his chiefest meanes and most of all his traine For whereas twenty men were wont to waite with bended knee She gaue allowance but to ten and after scarce to thrée Nay one she thought too much for him so tooke she all away In hope that in her Court good King he would no longer stay Am I rewarded thus quoth he in giuing all I haue Unto my children and to beg for what I lately gaue I le goe vnto my Gonorell my second child I know Will be more kinde and pittifull and will relieue my woe Full fast he hies then to her Court where when she heard his moane Returnd him answer that she grieude that all his meanes were gone But no way could relieue his wants yet if that he would stay Within her Kitchin he should haue what Scullions gaue away When he had heard with bitter teares he made his answer then In what I did let me be made example to all men I will returne againe quoth he vnto my Ragans Court She will not vse me thus I hope but in a kinder sort Where when he came shee gaue command to driue him thence away When he was well within her Court she said he could not stay Then backe againe to Gonorell the wofull King did hie That in her kitching he might haue what Scullion boyes set by But there of that he was denied which she had promis'd late For one refusing he should not come after to her gate Thus twixt his daughters for reliefe he wandred vp and downe Being glad to feed on beggers food that lately wore a Crowne And calling to remembrance then his yongest daughters words That said the duty of a childe had all that loue affords But doubting to repaire to her whom he had banisht so Grew franticke mad for in his minde he bore the wounds of woe Which made him rend his milk while locks and tresses from his head And all with blood bestame his cheekes with age and honour spred To hils and woods and watry founts he made his hourely moane Till hils and woods and sencelesse things did seeme to sigh and groane Euen thus possest with discontents he passed ore to France In hope from faire Cordela there to find some gentler chance Most vertuous dame where wheÌ„ she heard of this her fathers griefe As duty bound she quickly sent him comfort and reliefe And by a traine of noble Peeres in brane and gallant sort She gaue in charge he should be brought to Aganippus Court Her royall King whose noble minde so freely gaue consent To muster vp his knights at armes to fame and courage bent And so to England came with speed to repossesse King Leare And driue his daughters from their throneâ— by his Cordela deare Where she true hearted noble Queene was in the battell slaine Yet he good King in his old dayes possest his crowne againe But when he heard Cordela dead who dyed indeed for loue Of her deare father in whose cause she did this battell mooue Heswounding fell vpon her brest from whence he neuer parted But on her bosome left his life that was so truely hearted The Lords and Nobles when they saw the end of these euents The other Sisters vnto death they doomed by consents And being dead their crownes were left vnto the next of kin Thus haue you heard the fall of â—ride and disobedient sinne FINIS A new Song of the wooing of Queene Katherine by a gallant yong Gentleman of Wales named Owen Tudor lately translated out of Welch into our English phrase To the tune oâ— Light in leâ—â— Ladies Owen Tudor I Salute thée swéet Princesse with titles of grace For Cupid commands me in heart to embrace Thy honours thy vertues thy fauour and beauty With all my true seruice my loue and my duty Queene Katherine Courteous kind gentleman let me request How comes it that Cupid hath wounded thy brest
him soone from Lordly state into a kitching drudge And so accesse had he good Prince Her purpose to bewray But still faire Maudlins answere was she husbandlesse would stay Mean while her Gardiant beat his braines Her dukedome to atchiue Nor caring wat became of her so he by her might thriue And so resoluing that she should Unto some peasant wed And Raymond then supposâ—d a drudge should stand him in that stead But Maudlin marking his intent Unkindly takes that he Should bar the noblest match from her thus for a base degree The Lady shifting cut of dorâ—â— Departed thence by stealth Then thus with basenes for a match that might haue liu'd in wâ—alth When Raymond heard of her escape With sad and grieâ—eâ— heart He left the pallace of the Dukâ— and after did depart Forgetfull of himselfe and birth His country friends and all And minding onely her to seeke that thus had prouâ—d his thrall Nor meanes he after to frequent The court of stately townes But liu'd with pinchings cares and griefe among the country grounds A brace of yeares vpon that plaine Neere Salisburie that lies In great content with feeding flockeâ— a sheepeheards life he tries In hope his loue thereby to wast But then began againe Withâ—â— his heart a second loue the worser of the twaine A country wench a Neatheards maid Where Raymond kept his sheepe Did feed her droue with whom this prince in loue was wounded deepe Where sitting on the downy plaine And hauing small to do These sheepeheards there in friendly sort thus plainely gan to woe I know faire maid quoth Raymond then And thou aswell as I No maid there is that willingly with maidenhead would dye The Ploughmans labour hath no end And he will churlish proue The tradesman hath more woâ—ke inhand then doth belong to loue The Merchant venturing abroud Suspects his wife at home A youth will still the wanton play an old man proue a mome Then choose a sheepeheard honny girle Whose life is merriest still For merrily he spends his daies thus on the faire gréene hill And then at night when day is done Goes home from thence betime And in the fier turnes a craâ— and sings some merry rime Nor lackes he tales whiles round about The nut-drowne bowle doth trot And sitteth singing care away till he to bed be got There sléepes he soundly all the night Forgetting morrowes cares Nor feares the blasting of his corne nor vttering of his wares And this I know full well faire Lasse More quiet nights and daies The shéepeheard sléepes and wakes then he whose cattle he doth graze A King I see is but a man And so swéet Lasse am I Content is worth a Monarchy and mischiefes shoot ful hye As late it did vnto a Duke Not dwelling far from hence Who had a daughter saue thy selfe on earth the fairest wench With that good soule he stayd and sight Speake on quoth she and tell How faire she was and who she was that thus did heare the bell She was quoth he of stately grace Of countenance most faire No maid aliue for beauties prize may well with her compare A Globe-like head a golden hayre A forehead smooth and hie A seemely nose on either side did shine a graish eie Two rosie cheekes and ruddy lips White Iuory teeth within A mouth in meane and vnderneath a round and dimpled chin A snow-white necke with blewish vaines To make her seeme more faire Yea all her body framd so fine that earth had none more rare For life for loue for forme and face None fairer was then she And none but only she alone so faire a maid could be I knew the Lady well quoth she But worthlesse of such praise But credit we no sheepheard thou thy speeches so be wraies With that he wept and she was woe And both did silence keepe And equally perplext in loue they sate them downe to weepe In sooth quoth he I am not such As sâ—eming I professe To be a princes sonne by birth my liking shewes no lesse In Scotland is my fathers court And Raymond is my name With Cornewals duke I liu'd in pomp till loue controld the same And did this Lady dearely loue Though she not loued me But all that loue is wasted quite and now I die for thée I grant quoth she you lou'd her well If that your loue were such Yet thinke of me your second loue in loue to be as much Your twice beloued Maudlin heere Submits herselfe to thée And what she could not at the first the second time shall be In fortune not in person chang'd For I am still the same In heart and mind as chast and true as first to me you came Thus swéetly surfetting in ioy They tenderly imbrace And for their wished wedding day found fitting time and place And so these louely princes both Each other did befriend Where after many a hard mishap there loues had ioyfull end FINIS A Song of the deposing of King Richard the second and how after many miseries hee was murthered in Pomphret Castle To the tune of regard my sorrowes WHen Richard the second in England was King And raigned with honor state Sixe vncles he had his Grandfathers sons King Edwards that ruled of late All Counsellors noble and sage yet would he not heare their precepts deare So wilfull he was in this his young age A sort of braue gallants he kept in his court That traind him to wanton delight Which parasites pleased him better in mind then all his best Nobles and Knights Ambition and auarice grew so great in this land that still from his hand A masse of rich treasure his parasites drew His péeres and his barons dishonored were And vpstarts thus mounted on hie His commons sore taxed his cities opprest good subiects were nothing set by And what to his Coffers did come he wantonly spent to please with content His flattering vpstarts stil sporting at home When thus vnto ruine this kingdom began To fall from the highest estate The Nobles of England their Princes amisse by parliament soone did rebate And likewise those flatterers all they banisht the court that made but a sport To sée this so famous a Kingdome to fall But after these galltaÌ„s disgraded were thus King Richard himselfe was put downe And Bullenbrooke Lankasters noble borne Duke by pollicie purchast his crowne Thus ciuill warres héere begun that could haue no end by foe nor by friend Till 7. kings raignes with their liues were out run But Richard the breeder of all these same broyles In prison was wofully cast Where long he complained in sorrowful sort of Kingly authority past No Lords nor no subiects bad he no glory no state that earely and late Upon him attending had wont for to be His robes were conuerted to garments so old That beggers would hardly them weare His dyet no comfort at all to him brought for he fed vpon sorrow and care And from prison to prison was sent
each day and each night to worke him despight That wearied with sorrowes he still might lament Good king thus abused he was at the last To Pomfret in Yorkeshire conuaid And there in a dungeon ful low in the grouÌ„d vnpitied he nightly was laied Not one for his miserie grieued that late was in place of royallest grace Where still the distressed he kindly relieu'd King Henry vsurping thus all his estate Could neuer in heart be content Till some of his friends in secrecy sought to kill him by cruell consent Who sooke to Pomfret hiâ—d where as the feare that toucht him so neare They finisht so soon as K. Richard there died Ther dyed this good king for murthereâ— he was That might well haue liued full long Had not ill counsell betraied his best good and done his hie fortunes this wrong But blood for blood still calls no bloody staind hand ran long in this land Stand surely but soone vnto misery falls Lankaster thus the Diadem gaind And won his title by blood Which after by heauens â—ight power not three generations stood But yeelded to Yorke againe thus fortune showes their proud ouer throwes That cunningly climes an imperial raigne FINIS A song of an English Knight that marryed the royall Princesse Lady Mary sister to King Henry the eight which Knight was afterward made Duke of Suffolke To the Tune of Who list to lead a Souldiers life EIght Henry ruling in this land he had a sister faire That was the widdowed King of France inricht with vertues eare And being come to Englandâ— Court She oft beheld a Kinght Charles Brandon namd in whose faire eyes she cheifly tooke delight And noting in her Princely minde His gallent swéet behauiour Shee daily drew him by degrees still more and more in fauour Which he perceiuing courteâ—us Knight Found fitting time and place And thus in amorous sort began his loue sure to her grace I ayme at loue faire Queene said he Sweet let your loue incline That by your grace Charles Brandon may on earth be made diuine If worthlesse I might worthy be To haue so good a lot To please your highnesse in true loue my fancy doubteth not Or if that gentry might conuey So great a grace to me I can maintaine the same by birth being come of good degree If wealth you thinke be all my want Your highnesse hath great â—â—ore And my supplyment shall be loue what can you wish for more It hath been known when hearty loue Did tye the true loue knot Though now if gold and siluer want the marriage proueth not The goodly Queene hereat did blusâ— But made a dumbe reply Which he imagind what she meant and kist her reuerently Brandon quoth she I greater am Then would I were for thee But can as little master loue as them of low degree My father was a King and so A King my husband was My brother is the like and he will say I do transgresse But let him say what pleaseth him His liking I le forgoe And choose a loue to please myselfe though all the world sayes no. If Plough-men make their marriages As best contents their mind Why should not princes of estâ—te the like contentment find But tell me Brandon am I not More forward then beseemes Yet blame me not for loue I loue where best my fancy deemes And long may liue quoth he to loue Nor longer liue may I Then when I loue your royall grace and then disgraced dye But if I do deserue your loue My mind desires dispatch For many are the eyes in Court that on your beauty watch But am not I sweet Lady now More fancy then behooues Yet for my heart forgiue my tongue that speakes for him that loues The Quéene and this braue Gentleman Together both did wed And after sought the kings good will and of their wishes sped For Brandon soone was made a Duke and graced so in court Then who but he did fâ—ant it forth amongst the noblest sort And so from princely Brandons line and Maries did procéed The noble race of Suffolks house as after did succéed From whose high blood the Lady Iane Lord Guilford Dudleyes wife Came by descent who with her Lord in London lost her life FINIS A Song of the life and death of King Richâ—â—d the third who after many murthers by him committed vpon the Princes and Nobles of this Land was slâ—ine at the battell of Bosworth in Lester shire by Henry the seuenth King of England To the tune of Who list to lead a Souldiers life IN England once there raignd a King A Tirant firâ—e and sell Who for to gaine himselfe a Crowne gaue sure his soule to hell Third Richard was this Tirants name the worst of all the three That wrought such deeds of deadly dole that worser could not be For his desires were still by blood to be made Endglands King Which here to gaine that goâ—den prize did many a wondrous thing He slaughtered vp our noble Péeres and chiefest in this Land With euery one that likely was his title to withstand Foure bloudy fields the Tyrant sought ere he could bring to passe What he made lawlesse claime vnto as his best liking was Sixt Henries Princely sonne he slew Before his fathers face And weeded from our English throne all his renowned race This King likewise in Londons Tower he murthering made away His brother Duke of Clarence life he also did betray With those right noble Princes â—waine King Edwards children deare Because to Englands royall Crowne he thought them both too neere His owne deare wife also he slew Incesâ—uousâ—y to wed His owne deare daughter which for feare away from him was fled And made such hauocke in this land Of all the Royall bloud That onely one was left vnslaine to haue his claimes withstood Earle Richmond he by heauen preseru'd To right his Countries wrong From France prepar'd full well to fight brought ore an Army strong To whom Lord Stanley nobly came With many an English Peere And ioynd their forces in one Earle Richmonds heart to cheare Which newes when as the Tyrant heard How they were come on shore And how their forces day by day increased more and more He frets he fumes and ragingly A madding fury showes And thought it but in vaine to stay and so to battell goes Earle Richmond he in order braue His fearelesse armie laid In midst of whom these noble words their valiant leader said Now is the time and place swéet friends And we the souldiers be That must bring Englands peace againe or loose our liues must we Be valiant then we fight for fame And for our countries good Against a Tyrant markt with shame for shedding Englands blood I am right heire of Lancaster Intituled to the Crowne Against this bloody Boare of Yoâ—ke then let vs win renowne Meane while had furious Richard set His army in array And with a gastly looke of feare he stoutly thuâ— did say Shall Henry Richmond with his
answered at last So soone as you the Seas haue past Then put of all your faire array And to your Lemmon take your way saying that thou a Merchant great didâ—â— robbe and wickedly er treat And for his goods thou hast him slaine And art persude therefore a maine Now which of both doe pitty thow With her abide in weale and woe With that the penny forth he drew Which to the old man straight he threw Saying he would go trie the same So in short space he ouer came in cloathes rent too vile to see vnto his Lemmans house went he And softly knocked at her doore But when she saw he was so poore In frâ—wning sort she turnd her backe Perceiuing him to be in lacke He said sweet Lemmon for Christ his sake Upon me here some pitty take Upon the Seas my goods I lost My selfe in danger greatly toste a Merchant murdered is and slaine by meanes of me and of my traine Wherefore sweet heart now pitty me For need alacke I come to thee But she with words right fierce and fell Said villaine wretch adieu farewell Shall I giue succour to thy deed The Diuell grant thee ill to speed Auoyde thou rascalâ— hence apace Thy fact deserues to haue no grace go home vnto that Gib thy wife let her giue succour to thy life For by the faith to God I owe I meane the Officer shall know Except from hence in hast thou packe He turnd his face and cryde alacke Then in that poore and simple array Unto his wife he tooke his way And told like tale as he before Had vttered to his wicked whoore and said sweet wife without your aide I feare I shall be soone betraid My spowse quoth she take you no griefe A hundred pounds for your reliefe I yet haue here for you in store When that is gone we will get more And for your pardon sir quoth she I will make meanes as you shall see And all your creditors will pray To take with you a longer day good friends I haue take you no thought this thing to passe shall well be brought And as much goods as here before They shall you giue or rather more With that he did his wife embrace And told her true in euery case Together then that night they lay And in the morning passing gay This mercâ—ant did himselfe atâ—ire In costly suits for his desire with seruants two for his intent vnto his Lemmans house he went As by the way she did him spy She ran and met him by and by And said my loue for very shame What moued you to worke thâ—â— gaine Why came you basely to my doore Why did you faigne your selfe so poore Sith you do know you haue my loue And all my goods for your behooue She then with him did kisse and dally as she was wont with ancient fally My Lemmon deare he said againe To me it hath been told right plaine You haue another friend in store Whom you doe loue at heart right sore The Iewels which I gaue to you He hath in hold I tell you true Then vp she rose all in a braide And all those things before him laide he tooke them vp and cald his men and said go get you home agen With this apparell and this geare She said what will you robbe me here He tooke all things to hand that came And bare all home vnto his Dame And said behold my louing feere See here these Iewels and this geere Looke well thereon and do not spare Here is a penny worth of ware he told her likewise how and when he had this counsell of a man She saw those iewels did abound In value worth a hundreth pound They thanked God both for his grace And after liu'd in happy case FINIS Titus Andronicus complaint To the tune of Fortune YOu noble minds and famous martiall wights That in defence of natiue countrey fights Giue eare to me that ten yeares fought for Rome Yet reapt disgrace when I returned home In Rome I liu'd in fame full threescore yeares By name beloued deare of all his Peeres Full fiue and twenty valiant sonnes I had Whose forward vertues made their father glad· For when Romes foes their warlike forces felt Against them still my sonnes and I were sent Against the Gothes full ten yeares weary warre We spent receiuing many a bloody sâ—arre Iust two and twenty of my sonnes were slaine Before we did returne to Rome againe Of fiue and twenty sonnes I brought but three Aliue the stately Towres of Rome to see When warres were done I conquest home did bring And did present my prisoners to the King The Queene of Goâ—h her sonnes and eke a Moore Which did much murder like was nere before The Emperour did make this Quéene his wife Which bred in Rome debate and deadly strife The Moore with her two sonnes did grow so proude That none like them in Rome was then alowd The Moore so pleasd the new-made Empresse eye That she consented with him secretly For to abuse her husbands marriage bed And so in tune a blacke a moore she bred Then she whose thoughts to murder were inâ—inde Consented with the Moore with bloody minde Against myselfe my kin and all my friends In cruell fort to bring them to their ends So when in age I thought to liue in peace Both wo and griefe began then to increase Amongst my sonnes I had one daughter bright Which ioyde and pleased best my ages sight My deare Lauina was betroth'd as than To Caesars sonne a yong and noble man Who in a hunting by the Emperours wife And her two sonnes bereaued were of life He being slaine was cast in cruell wise Into a dismall den from light of skies The cruell Moore did come that way as then With my two sonnes who fell into that den The Moore then fectht the Emperour with speed For to accuse them of that murtherous deed And then my sonnes within the den were found In wrongfull prison they were cast and bound But now behold what wounded most my minde The Emperours two sonnes of Tygers kinde My daughter rauished without remorse And tooke away her honour quite perforce When they had tasted of so sweet a flower Fearing their sweet should shortly turne to sowre They cut her tongue whereby she could not tell How that dishonour vnto her befell Then both her hands they falsely cut of quite Where by their wickednesse she could not write Nor with her needle on her sampler sow The bloody workers of her direfull woe My brother Marcus found her in a wood Staining the grasse ground with purple bleed That trickled from her stumps and handlesse armes No tongue at all she had to tell her harmes But when I saw her in that woefull case With teares of blood I wet my aged faâ—e For my Lauinia I lamented more Then for my two and twenty sonnes before When as I saw she could not write nor speake With griefe my aged heart began to