withall Nor yet his pencell neuer drew so faire a péece and neuer shall Wherefore if he had séene these dayes He might haue wone a greater praise Oh happy man might he haue said if he had liued to this time For to haue séene so faire a Maide in all proportions made so fine Her sullgent face so faire so cleare That Europe cannot shew her peere Plgmalion with his grauers then could neuer worke so faire a péece Nor yet Apelles in his time did neuer sée the like in Gréece For if he had he would haue said That Venus was not like this maid She is a graft of noble groweth and worthy is she of her fame For why her vertues plainely sheweth that well she hath deserud the same Wherefore my painfull pen alwaies Shal neuer cease to write her praise O that my pen could print her praise according to her iust desert That I might say and sée those dayes that I desired with my heart For still I sought and euer shall My MistreÌ„s praise might passe them all Now proofe and praise in one is knit and hath blowne to praise this maid And Iustice doth in Iudgment sit for to performe that I haue saidâ— Thus to conclud an â—nd to make vnto the gods I her betake Another To a new tune THe Bée doth loue the swéetest flower so doth the blossome the Aprill shower And I doe loue that Lady truely why should not I loue her that loues me The bird doth loue the morning bright to sée the day is her delight And I do loue to sée her face in whome that I doe loue is my solace The fish doth loue the flouds by kind for want of it they are â—u pâ—nd And I doe loue her presents also in whome that I loue and loue no mo The Lybard doth loue to lie and pray vpon the faces that goeth him by And I do leue to looke and gase vpon my true loues most pleasant face The Déere doth loue in woods to dwell as I to you the truth shall tell And I doe loue as doth the deere oh whereas I loue would Christ I were Troylus that Lord withall his might Crossed of Troy that was so bright And I do loue as farre as he and euer shall vntill I dye FINIS In praise and dispraise of women To a pleasant new tune VVOmen to praise who taketh in hand a number shall displease But who so doth them most dispraise doth most liue at their case Whereat I muse and maruaile much and shall do till I die And if you thinke I say not true aske them if that I lye They are mans aid and only stay and comfort at his néed They cherisht him in all affaires how ouer that he spéed And that that she for him may doe she doth it willingly And if c. And when their husbands be farre from hand then wil they spin and carde They wil not gossip and go gay but then they fare full hard They rise vp early and lye downe late they labour earnestly To saue a penny or a groat aske them c. And if her husband chance to chide she giues him not a word Or if he fight she answers him no more then doth a boâ—rd But out she goeth about her worke and takes all patiently Creept she croune him with a stoole Aske them c. Or with her ten commandements she takes him on the face That from his cheekes downe to his chin a man may see each race The go dman then must weare a clout the goodwife she will dye Her husband hurt so heauily she takes or else I ly Then to his bed she wil not come nor with him will be gréed Unlesse she haue a Petticoate or elce some other wéed And when she with her gossips met she telles them by and by how she her husband handled hath aske c. Well done good gossip saith the one your practise well we praise I drinke to you for your good déed the second gossip sayes They all to put the same in vre do promise by and by Which they fulfil vnto their power forthwith or else I lye Good wiues a iudgement I you pray your verdit Let me heere Where all be falce or all be true by you it must appears How ouer that the mattter goeth the trueth you must descry Or else it is not possible to know if that I lye FINIS The Louers fairing sent to his best beloued To the tune of I wander vp and downe MY comfort and my ioy this fairing I do send Let not vnkindnesse him destroy that is thy faithfull friend A loyall heart I send to thée the same I giue O cherish it and kéepe it safe and so the same will liue But if you it forsake and will not yéeld it grace Itliues and dyes and soone is fled within a little space O slie no promise made nor do me not disdaine One frowne will strike so cruelly that I shall liue in paine A smile reuiues me being dead and is a ioyfull treasure O let that sunne-shine ere be spred for it is my chiefe treasure My selfe and wealth and all I haue a Fairing I do giue To thee that first my heart possest and still maist make me liue Stéele not thy heart nor make it hard but intertaine mine Inâ—e So may I boast and still shall say I shall much comfort win Returne me comfort back let me not languish euer For â— am thine and euer shall till death my life do seuer FINIS The Maidens kind answere to her louer To the same tunc Take courage gentle loue I neuer will thee forsake Nor while I liue shall euer man possession of me take Thy Loyall heart I le kéepe and send mine back to thee Mine is in feare to liue in paine but thine I am sure is free The promise that I made I vow and sweare I le kéepe My loue to thée shall euer wake oh neuer let thine sleepe No frownes shall kill my face but smiles shall stil be séene I long vntil I sée thy face that absent long hath béene My heart doth melt like ware and neuer shall be hard Women haue neuer steely hearts for then their sex were mard All comfort I can send I do returne to thée My heart my selfe and all I haue is thine eternally Finis A maides complaint for lack of a loue Expressing the anguish in mind she doth prooue NO Maiden may so well as I complaine of her hard destiny I am now in prime of yeares yet there is no yong man beares A brest that harboreth a heart that hath compassion on my smart Therefore I am fore affraid I shall liue and dye a maid I cast as other maidens doe Amorous glances for to woe Youngmen to settle on my loue but those glances do not proone They are like shaftes by blindmen shot against a marke that nere is hot Therefore I am sore affraid I shall liue and dic a maide Twenty winters haue I séene as as
many sommers gréene T is enough to bréed vispaire so long a maideu head to beare T is a burden of such waight that I would fame be easd of t straight But alasse I am afraid c. I know that young-men me reiect my beauty merrits more respect My quicke gray eye my chery cheeke where they may finde that list to séeks Matter to increase lones fire and to ffir them to desire But alasse I am afraid c. Higho I loue yet modesty bids me not be too too free In demonstrating my paine least rebuke and shame I gaine But where fire is there it smoakes anguish followes heauy streakes Out alasse I am afraid c. I loue yet loue binds me to paine loue reiected's louers baine We maides are bound by modesty at all assaies to secrecy Modestie's too strict a dame to her will I cannot frame Out alasle I am afraid c. Time hath wrought an alteration blushing is a fooliw fashion All maides leaue it so will I and to my sore a salue apply Babish blushing hinders all who would to modesty be thrall I will be no more afraid I le no longer be a maide Bash full young men make vs bould when they loue in bondage hould They take from vs that ruddy dye that should vpon our faces lye Condemne vs not then louo makes way like fire that 's hid in dryest bay I will be no more afraid I le no longer liue a maide FINIS The Lamentation of an Ale wises daughter for the losse of her Virginity To a new tune IN the spring time when Plants do bud and birds vse chirping notes When beasts do gather heart of grasse and fish in water flotes It was my chance for to espie a Nimph of Venus traine Which in a groue wherein she sat did mightily complaine I hearkned to her sad lament I listned to her tale Whereby it séemed that she had set honesty to sale Alas said shee that mother déere an Alewise was to me Or that it was my heauie chance to vse bad companv Wo be to him that with the Dyle of Angels me intis'd Thrise woe be to the golden baits that often me surpris'd Woe to the toyes of youth too rash Woe to the crafty snares Of Crooked age that youth doe catch in nâ—ts at vnawares Woe to dame Nature for hir paines in making me the glasse For others for to scoffe and laugh as they the way do passe Then gushed out the Siluer streames of water from her eyes Which did bedâ—w her Roseate chéekes and that in dolefull wise Ienkiâ— At which I came spake these words what fortune hath decreed Or how or why haue fatall fates committed such a déed That thou the mirror of our age and pride of Natures bower Farre sweeter then the ruddy Rose or gallant Gilly slower Should'st thus lament and pine away whose cheerfull countenance The hearts of yong and â—ake of old hath causd full oft to daunce I st losse of loue I st want of wealth Is cause thou sleepest alone Or I st the death of some deare friend that causeth thée to moue 100. Not so my friend what doest thou mean to make the thing so strange Experience teacheth after full there néeds must be a change The golden baite intised hath the pretions Pearle from met Which to be gotten back againe remaines without remedy Ien. Your meaning swéet I do not know I pray you tell it plaine Faine would I finde some remedy to ease you of your paine 100. I thanke you for your kind good will which you did shew to me In recompence whereof I will my words make plaine to thée As nature had aborned me with gifts of beauty rare So for to deck and trim my selfe was all my chiesest care Then many suters came to me and most my betters were Whom I disdain'd and set lightby my minde was to seuere At length there came an aged man of money store had he Who with his bags and golden baits hath bred my misery My mother yéelded her consent and causd me doe the samé Which maketh me thus to lament that I must liue in shame Let Maidens then example take and warning by my fall Least they like me should catched be by comming to the call Thus hast thou heard my friend my griefe I can no longer stay Adew and twenty times farewell this sorrowfull month of May. FINIS A new Sonnet of Coridon and Phillida COridon arise my Coridon Titan shineth cleare Cor. Who is it that calleth Coridon who is it I heare Phi Phillida thy true loue calleth thée arise then arise then Arise and féed thy flocks with me Cor. Phillida my true is it she I come then I come then I come and feed my flocks with thée Phi. Here are cheries ripe my Coridon eate them for my sake Cor. Here 's my oaâ—en pipe my lonely on sport for thée to make Here are thréeds my true-loue fine as silke to knit thée to knit thée A paire of stockins white as milke here are réeds my true loue fine and neat To make thée to make thée a bonnet to withstand the heate Phi. I will gather flowers my Coridon to set in thy Cap Cor. I will gather â—ears my louely on to set in thy lap Phi. I wil buy my true-loue garters gaâ— for Sundaies for Sundaies To weare about his legs to tall Cor. I will buy my true loue yellow saye For Sundaies for Sundaies to weare about her midle small Phi. When my Coridon sits on a hill making melody Cor. When my louely on sits at her whéele singing chéerely Sure me thinkes my true-loue doth excell for swéetuesse for swéetnesse Our Pan that old Arcadian knight and me thinkes my true-loue beares that bell For clearenesse for clearenesse beyond the nimphs that be so bright Phi. Had my Coridon my Coridon bin alacke my swaine Had my louely on my louely on bin in â—da plaine Cinthia Endimion had refus'd preferring preferring My Coridon to play withall the Quéene of loue had bin excus'd Bequeathing Bequething my Phillida the golden ball Yonder comes my mother Coridon whither shall I fly Under yonder béech my louely one While she passeth by Say to her thy true-loue was not here remember remember To morrow is another day doubt me not my true-loue do not feare Farewell then farewell then heauen keepe our loue alway FINIS Coridons Complaint PHillida where hast thou bin Long it is since I haue séene my Phillida Euery éeuâ—â— when day was doon In the absence of the sunne haue we met my loue to sport and play Now thy absence makes me feare Coridon's not held so deare of Philida As he earst was wont to bee Smile as thou wert wont on me Phillida my fairest Phillida Coridon is now as true As when first the heauenly hew of Phillida Made him all-admiring stand And did loue and life command Phillida my fairest Phillida Such sad dumps thy absence breeds That my Pipe of Daten Réeds faire Phillida
free of that company and now â—â—stly graced with the loue of our renowned Prince Henry of great Brittaine To the tune of Treatans toy ENgland is a Kingdome of all the world admired More statclinesse in pleasures can no way be desired The court is full of brauery the citty stor'd with wealth The law preserueth vnity the country kéepeth health Yet no like pompe and glory our cronicles record As foure great feasts of England do orderly afford All others be but dinners calld or banquete of good sort And none but sowre be named feasts which here I will report Saint Georges feast the first of all maintained is by Kings Where much renowne and royalty thereof now dayly rings Princes come from forraine lands to be Saint Georges Knights The goulden garter thus is worne by sundry worthy wights Saint George our English champion in most delightfull sort Is celebrated yeare by yeare in Englands royall court The King with all his noble traine in gould and rich aray Still glorisies the festiuall of great Saint Georges day The honored Maior of London the second feast ordaines By which the worthy cittizens much commendation gaines For Lords and Iudges of the land and Knights of good request To Guild hall comes to countenance Lord Maior of Londons feast Also the Sargeants of the law another feast asords With grace and honor glorified by Englands Noble Lords And this we call the Sargiant feast a third in name and place But yet there is a fourth like wise deserues as gallant grace The Marchant Taylors company that fellowship of fame To Londons lasting dignity liues honored with the same A guist King Henry the seauenth gaue kept once in thrée yeares still Where gould and gounes be to poore men giuen by King Hemies will Full many good fat burks be sent the fairest and the best The Kings large forrests can afford to grace this worthy fâ—ast A feast that makes the number iust and last account of â—oure Therefore let England thus report of feasts there be no more Then let all London companies so highly in renowne Giue Marchant taylors name and same to weare the lawrell crowne For seuen of Englands royall Kings thereof haue all béene frée And with their loues and fauors grac'd this worthy company King Richard once the second nam'd vnhappy in his fall Of all these race of royall Kings was frée-man first of all Bullinbrooke fourth Henry next by order him succéeds To gloryfie this brotherhood by many Princely déeds Fift Henry which so valiently deserued fame in France Became free of this company faire London to aduance Sixt Henry then the next in raigne though lucklesse in his daies Of Marchant-taylors free-man was to his eternall praise Fourth Edward that right worthy King beloued of great and small Also performd a frée mans loue to this renowned Hall Third Richard which by cruellty brought England many woes Unto this worthy company no little fauour showes But richest fauours yet at last procéeded from a King Whose wisdome round about the world in Princes eares doth ring King Henry whome we call the seuenth made them the greatest gracd Because in marchant Taylors Hall his picture now stands placed Their charter was his Princely guift maintaynd unto this day He added Marchant to the name of Taylors as some say So Martchant Taylors they be cal'd his royall loue was so No London company the like estate of Kings can shoe From time to time we thus behold the Marchant-Taylers glory Of whose renowne the Muses pens may make a lasting story This loue of Kings begot such loue of our now royall Prince For greater loue then his to them was nere before nor since It pleased so his Princely minde in méeke kinde curtesie To be a friendly frée-man made of this braue company London then in heart reioyce and Marchant Taylers sing Forth prayses of this gentle Prince the sonne of our good King To tell the welcomes to the world he then in London had Might sill vs full of pleasing ioyes and make our hearts full glad His triumphs there performd and done long lasting will remaine And Chronicles report aright the order of it plaine The Lamentable song of the Lord Wigmoore gouernor of Warwicke Castle and the fayre maid of Dunsmoore as a warning to all maids to haue care how they yeeld to the wanton delights of young gallants To the tune of Diana In Warwicke-sheir there stands a downe and Dunsmoore heath it hath to name Adioyning to a country towne made famous by a maidens name Fairo Isabel she called was a shepheards daughter as some say To wigmoores eare her fame did passe as he in Warwicke Casile lay Poore loue-sicke Lord immediatly vpon her fame set his delight And thought much pleasure sure did lie possessing of so swéet a wight Therfore to Dunsmore did repaire to recreate his sickly mind Where in a summers euening faire his chance was Isabell to find She sat amidst a medow greene most richly spred with smelling flowers And by a riuer she was seene to spend away some euening howers There sat this maâ—den all alone washing her selfe in secret wise Which Uirgin faire to looke vppon did much delight his longing eyeâ—â— She thinking not to be espied had layd from her her Contrey tire The tresses of her haire vntide hung glistring like the golden wier And as the slakes of winters snow that lies vnmelted on the plaines So white her body was in show like siluer springs did run her vaines He rauisht with this pleasing sight Stood as a man amazed still Suffring his eyes to take delight That neuer thought they had their fill She blinded his affection so That reasons rules were led awry And loue the coales of lust did blow Which to a fire soone slamed hye And though he knew the sinne was great Yet burned so within his brest With such a vehement scorching heat That none but she could lend him rest Lord Wigmoore thus beeing drownd in lust By liking of this dainty Dame He call'd a seruant of great trust Inquiring straight what was her name She is quoth he no married wife But a Shepheards daughter as you sée And with her father leads her life Whose dwellings by these pastures bée Her name is Isabel the saire Then stay quoth he and speake no more But to my Castle straight her beare Her sight hath wounded me full sore Thus to Lord Wigmoore she was brought Who with delight his fancies fed And through his sute such means he wrought That he intic'd her to his bed This beeing done incontinent She did returne from whence she came And euery day she did inuent To couer her receiued shame But ere three months were fully past Her crime committed plaine appeares Unto Lord Wigmoore then in hast She long complain'd with weeping teares The complaint of faire Isabell for the losse of her honor at the end whereof shee slew her selfe To the same tune LOrd Wigmoore thus I haue defild And spotted my
I lay by and sighing sit Sorrow sighes and teares beget Phillida my fairest Phillida With thée I can play and sing And mine armes shall like a ring faire Phillida Circle thée and then I hold That 's more desir'd of me then gold Phillida my fairest Phillida But without thée still I say I in woe weare time away my déarest loue Therefore let thy kind reply Cure me or I faint and dye Phillida let not thy fancy mooue FINIS Phyllidaes kind replye WHerefore faints my Coridon Thinkes thou I am such a one as Cressida I will prooue as firme to thée As Lucrece or Penelope Coridon doubt not of Phillida Though I haue béen absent long Faint not my sweet Coridon thy Phillida Is as thou art true and iust Strong in loue but weake in lust Coridon doubt not of Phillida Nor though our sex are giuen to range Doth Phillida delight in change my Coridon If my absence made thee greeue Let my presence now reléeue Coridon my déerest Coridon As in me thou takest delight So do I in thy swéete sight my Coridon I haue bene in yonder groue Gathering flowers for my loue Coridon my dearest Coridon The chiefest both for shew and sent So choice am I for thy content my dearest loue Looke the liuery of the spring to deck thee Coridon I bring then do not thy Phillida reprooue Such a louing simphathy in our loueâ— deare loue doth lye I know right well Such a heart wrought combination that I feare no separation Coridon such néedlesse doubts repell FINIS A New sonnet of a Knight and a faire Virgin To the tune of Salengers round I Read how in King Arthurs time a Knight as he did ride Did méet a Uirgin faire and bright about the gréenewood side Could she wâ—ll or could she wo he lighted of his stéed And there he tooke against her will her maiden head indéed When this was done this maiden then went raging to the King Bewailing of her pitteous case and told him euery thing The King now hearing her complaint in Stories as I read Commanded the Knight he should be hangd for this his hainous déed The Quéene alas considering this it was a pitteous thing To cast away so faire a man she begd him of the King Unto the Knight then she began now prisoner art thou mine For thou shalt dye for ought I know except thy wittes are fine Yet I will giue thée a whole yeares space to know of woemens kind What thing it is that woemen loue best if they may haue their mind Full sadly went this Knight away some councell for to find To know the cause to kéepe the day that was to him assign'd When that the yeare was almost out he came where he had seene Twenty Ladies in a rout all dancing on a greene When he drew néere vnto the place his Question o haue told They vaded all before his face saue one that was ful old Amazâ—d be yée sir Knight quoth she what i st that you mislike Perchance you may pick out of me the thing that you do seeke He told her then she said againe if I do it for you You must agree to grant it me that you may easily doe Content quoth he come on quoth she haue with you to the Quéene And say that it is Soueraignty that women loue as I wéene Onward they go the Quéene did know the Knight was néere at hand She placed her Ladies all on a row to heare the matter scand The Knight he gaue his question this my tale was soone exprest It séemes to me that Soueraigntie is that that women loue best The Ladies all about the hall their verdits soone did giue This worthy Knight hath hit so right hath well deserued to liue Then Beldam stept before the Quéene desiring that the Knight Might grant to her vpon the gréene the troth that he did plight What is that quoth he mary quoth shee that I may bee your wife Alas quod he then woe is mee yet rather take my life There was no shift but marriage swifâ— and both laid in a bed When she did ioy to preeue a toy he turned away his head Sirquoth she were not you better haue me being both shrewd and old Then to haue youth that for a truth should make you a Cuckold But all this while she saw no smâ—le nor countenance of the Knight She changed hew she made her selfe new her beauty was brane and bright Then fell the Knight to louers delight good Lord what dayes are these It was so strange to sée the change a could not sléepe for fleas FINIS A new song of an Hostisse and her Guests To the tune of the painter I Wil not to Saint Katherines goe to laugh no more My Hostisse chides and checks me so I am sorry therefore When I came in as merry as a pye she hung she chin she lookt awry She hould she scould she looked so coy I could not be merry I could not ioy I saw her sit so maidenly when I came in To busse and kisse her curtuously I did begin The more I shewed my countenance free the more be shrewed the worse was she Her talke so shrill the time so soure I durst not tarry there halfe an hower The béere was bitter for my tast I tell you true I came to soone to make such hast as did ensue Yet after alâ— these comely shewes as best becomes those friendly shrewes The frownes were gone and frollick she contented was to welcome me Then had we that and cheere at will as serued the place A redy friend our pots to fill and fetch apace The Goodman he was not at home the guests were cut ouer heart and come The shrew became a curteous dame The three hoop'd pot was filled round for lack of cheere Aneats-foot in the towne was found and we drew neere To take our fill of euery ioy our Hostisse was no longer coy But thankes be to God our friends and vs our mallice and all was ended thus Finis A Lamentable Ditty on the death of a nobleman who was executed in the time of King Edward SHould fortune frowne against the Gods alas and should she so Should worthy wightes of noble blood receiue such mortall woe Alas poore England now alas Thy wo wil shortly come to passe In time of noble Edwards raigne whose same doth farre resound His vncle deare did truth maintaine and all his foes confound But in the end alas alas his wofull death was brought to passe His Princely name and courage stout which all men may report Could not defend him from the rout of those that did extort But in the end alas alas his wofull death was brought to passe He was bereft of noble power committed to his charge And cast into the prison Tower his torments to enlarge Where as he lay alas alas to dolefull death was brought to passe Who then did know the saigned clause wherefore he was condemned Is not the sentence of those