share the ioyes that euer shall indure My bodie I bequeath vnto the earth The common Mother that first brought it forth My blessing I bequeath vnto the blade That makes the breach for grislie death to enter She shall not ride my patience like a iade If death-wrought resolution may preuent her O welcome engine of my cares releasing That kill'st Despaire to make my hopes increasing My sorrowes cares hart-breaking sighes and crosses Woes lamentations pining and despaires My teares complaints foule iniuries and losses Griefs shame misfortune and my daily feares I giue to her that now giues me this fall The sole efficient of my Funerall Let her haue time to rent her Amber haire Lether haue time to thinke on me and raue Let her haue time of fauour to despaire And skorn'd of all to liue Affections slaue Let her haue time to beg and none relieue her And euery day bring crosses more to grieue her Let her haue time to proue her friends her foes And see her olde acquaintance all forsake her Let her haue time her honest name to lose Abhorr'd of men and cursed of her Maker And euery minute let her finde a time To rue my death her vnrecalling crime My Halcyon daies of blisse and happines The milde forerunners of this fearefull storme I giue to those whom better starres doe blesse Which neuer felt the sting of womans skorne What euer else is mine disbursed be To those that liue and thinke no harme of me Come gentle knife why lingrest thou so long Come ease my sorrowes with thy fatall stroke My heart is resolute my hand is strong My lingring life more torment doth prouoke O King of graues why killst thou them abhor thee And turnst from me that now am readie for thee Auaunt thou viper I thy spite defie Where life is lou'd thou readie art to kill But neuer once thy weapons wilt applie To the redressing of a wretches ill Come trustie hand for thou must doe the deede Since other friends are fled in time of neede The Starre that first made entrance in mine eye And thence departing strooke my senses blinde Then led my heart in base captiuitie Yet to her prisoner proueth most vnkinde Witnes faire heauens she she t' is onely she That guides this hand to giue this wound to me Eub. Stay stay thy hand O Natures prodigie If blood and death must expiate thy rage Pittie thy selfe foule beast and murther me My life for thine my selfe will be thy gage Ten thousand deaths my soule indures to see Gods image wrong'd in thy mortalitie In massak'ring thy selfe whom dost thou kill But with thy bodie that immortall soule For whose redemption Christ vouchsaft to spill Those purple drops to quench the liuing coale Of his deere Fathers deepe-deserued hate And to the heauens promote thy poore estate Think'st thou by dying to preuent the paine That seemes to pinch thee in this brittle life Alas this death begets thee life againe When with thy selfe thy selfe shall be at strife When thou wilt thinke all paines consort in one And that thy selfe sustain'st them all alone O Acolastus what foule fiend of Hell Would glut his fury with thy harmeles blood Watching thy death here in some shady cell To pray vpon thy soule thy soueraigne good Looke studie sigh for grace and flye from euill Grace and resistance driues away the deuill Acolast Art thou a God a Man or else a Ghost Com'st thou from heauen where blisse solace dwell Or from the ayrie could-ingendring coast Or from the darkesome dungeon-hole of hell Or from the secret chambers of the deepe Or from the graues where breathles bodies sleepe Art thou a Hermite in this wildernes Or else some Satyre maskt in ages weeds Or by the heauens I charge thee to confesse Art thou her shape for whom my poore hart bleeds I I t' is so thou art that cruell she That wrought my death now fain'st to pittie me What bloody scene hath crueltie to act Death is the worst thy malice can inflict And thou hadst seene my soules poore cittie sackt But thy deepe policie did contradict Knowing by death my troubles should haue end Which to prolong thou mainly dost intend O be content with robbing me of life Why dost thou triumph ouer fortunes wracke The death of men determinates their strife And warres are finisht with the Cities sacke The Elephant and Dragon mortall foes Bury their hate in mutuall ouerthrowes By life my soule was pind in little ease By death I seeke my thraldome to release Then let my life thy brutish hart appease And giue me leaue at least to dye in peace O let it not be said in time to come A womans hate suruiues till day of doome Eub. Fondling I am no God nor tempting friend Nor yet the woman that could wish thee dead Know me for Eubulus thy auncient friend Witnesse this snow-white fleece vpon my head Marke my complection habite tongue and yeares How euery thing in quondam sort appeares I am no flint-hart female bloody minded Mocking thy senses with a borrowed shape But one that sees thy sense through passion blinded And sighes and seekes away for thine escape Then charme this mad infection that doth raigne In beldam fury of thy witles braine Be not as sottish as the simple sort That wracke their wits vpon misfortunes shelfe Nor yeelde thy reasons beauty-battred for t Crying God helpe yet neuer helpe thy selfe Thy crazed Shipp's not so farre runne on shore But thou maist scape and flourish as before Acolast Et tu Brute wilt thou stab Caesar too Thou art my friend and wilt not see me wrong'd I pray thee leaue me without more adoo For with my life my sorrowes are prolong'd I know thou pleasurst not in my distresse Then rob me not of deaths true happinesse Yet since in sun-shine of my better daies Thou wast a Father to my head-strong youth Training my rash-braind thoughts in reasons waies Whose words I euer found the glasse of Truth My cares shall take a truce with death so long Till I haue made thee priuie to my wrong Loe here at hand a circle-braunching tree Whose leauie bosome makes a summer seate Nature hath raisd this arbour purposely To shroude our bodies from the parching heate Here while we sit within this gloomy shade I 'le tell my Loue and how it did inuade Eub. Then yeeld me vp this irefull instrument The destin'd engine of thy tragedie T' is wisdomes rule occasions to preuent And giue no ground to Sathans trecherie Well now begin and giue thy sorrowes vent I 'le sit and mourne with thee till day be spent Mcolast To shew the poyson of my endles pining The taske is long and tedious to expresse Bright Phaebus to the Westerne deepe declining And repetition neuer made thing lesse Who rippes the rancour of old-wounded flesh In steede of healing makes it bleede a fresh Yet since the heauens are so propitious To make my friend eye-witnesse to my fall Lysten kinde
still abhorrd it Yet some there be that of a holy motion To harbor strangers lodge them in the Cage And some because that fasting helpes deuotion Denie them foode their hunger to asswage Some whip them for their sins former swaruing More of their curtesie then the Poores deseruing Who right conceits the miseries of Iob His children seruants goods and cattell lost His bodie botched basest ragges his robe His mind with millions of temptations tost Can fittest deeme their griefes true qualitie And sympathize poore Souldiers miserie Hell-damning drosse thou art the fountaine cause Of this iniustice rauen and confusion No man would spurne at dutie God or lawes Had not his heart to thee a false allusion O wracke of soules the diuels adamant Deuouring numbers both by wealth and want The Infant-childe delights to play with golde The young man seekes it to maintaine his pleasure It is the life and Gods-good of the olde All ages deeme it as their dearest treasure Who giues a Rose to gaine a worthles weede We sell for good in shewe our good indeede Witnesse my Mistris now no Mistris mine Who though no Queen hath made King Midas choise For none must plucke the Redrose of her prime But he that gaines her with a golden voyce So young and couetous a ten daies wonder The diuell ioynes and I 'le not put a sunder Say shameles Betresse haue I made thee blush Rating the saint whom thou dost rate so deare Or is thine impudencie growne so flush Thou waighst no credit or thou wilt not heare O if thou bear'st a part of woman kinde Let some relenting pittie pierce thy minde The senseles marble moued with my plaining Wets his pale cheekes and seemes to weepe with me The showres which daily from mine eyes are raining Draw the dum creatures to a sympathie Poore Philomele that sings of rauishment Forgets her tune to listen my complaint If in the woods I breath abroad my woes Each bow doth bend to steale away my tale And still as I her iniuries disclose Great trees for sorrow seeme their tops to vaile Let me but sigh and say She is vnkind Echo replies aloude She is vnkind The strugling flood that still for passage grones Pausing his course and wrapt in admiration Of my laments hart-breaking sighes and mones Sobs out the deskant of my desolation And runnes no more till riuers growing ranke Cause him depart or ouerflowe the banke The vallies rockes and hollow caues resound Bearing the burthen to my wofull dittie My plaints haue power to pierce the stonie ground And moue the sauage Brutes to manly pittie If Rockes and Earth and Beasts bewaile my state O looke on me and be compassionate The heauens as grieu'd locke vp the lightsome day And Phaebus fleeting fayles the world of light Starres change their course and wander all astray The Mayden Moone forgets to shine by night Sham'd that a Maid so shameles should be found Fiercer then Beasts harder then stony ground The heauen-died flowers sweet of spring of the prime That gilde the medowes with their sommers pride Fading as in the frostie winters time Pitying my passions hould their heads aside The Siluan-Satyres in their green-wood-songs Tell how disdaine sits laughing at my wrongs O learne of these slint hearted how to grieue Dumme showes they are yet shew to thee thy dutie They weepe to see thee laughing in thy sleeue Thou laughst to see me snared in thy Beawtie Thinke thy affections dull thy trespasse deepe When trees stones must teach thee how to weepe If so my sorrowes cannot pierce thy hart Yet force a teare and faine to make a plaster Breath sighes as if thou deeply feltst my smart And kisse me to as Iudas kist his Master And when I rage seeme thou withall to tremble It 's hard when I must teach thee to dissemble So shall my selfe enioy thee in conceite And what is Loue but a conceited pleasure Small fishes are content to see the baite While greater sucke the sweet and gaine the treasure Loue in conceit 's a cony-catching play While I feed thoughts he steales the wench away O woe beset vnhappiest man aliue Seeking to wreake my selfe my selfe am wounded Poore snared Byrd for libertie I striue Yet in the trappe still more and more confounded As one that wipes his wound yet still doth bleede So more I speake the worse alas I speede He that with oyle the wilde-fire seekes to quench Or bound a riuer in with banks of sand He that hath lou'd a stony-harted Wench And now with brawling thinks to quench the brand Learne this of me late proued to my paine It 's hard to bayle imprisoned thoughts againe When I sate downe to ease my griefs with plaining I thought my chiefest remedie to rate her Hard words seemd swords to murther loue remaining And deep loue skornd wold make me deadly hate her But while I seeke to quench loues hot desire My wind of words hath blowne a greater fire My time-bred troubles are but now beginning I loue I loth I hate I wish withall My threed is cut and yet the Sisters spinning I liue I dye I stand and now I fall I laughing weepe I hope and yet despaire I say she 's foule and straight I call her faire Hence idle words seruants to shallow braines Vnfruitfull sounds wind-wasting arbitrators Your endles prattle lessens not my paines His suite is cold that makes you mediators Since fates haue made me bankrupt of my blisse My dying life a very torment is In vaine I cauill at her crueltie At gold at eyes at senses and the hart In vaine I spurne against my destinie In vaine I seeke to ease an endles smart No antidote at all can doe me good But the effusion of my harmeles blood Poore hart why tremblest thou at this decree Thy selfe art easd by ending of this life For sorrow kild thou gainest libertie But if I liue thou liuest still in strife Tell life I 'le not a minuts respite giue Since that is lost for which I sought to liue O wretched life what is thy benefite Whose chiefest sportings are calamitie Whose daies are spent in troubles care and spite Whose pleasures sinne whose all is vanitie Whos 's last is short whose strength is but a breath Whose date vnknown whose end is suddaine death O wished death come kill all murdring greeues My soule suruiues in neuer dying feares Which round ingirt me like as many theeues And load my hart with pangues mine eyes with teares If on the earth there may be found a Hell Within my soule her seuerall torments dwell Yet dye I will not till my Testament The briefe contents of discontented mind Writ with my blood into the world be sent Bearing true witnesse to my faire-vnkind That as her loue might once haue made me biest Her skorne hath sheath'd this dagger in my breast My spotted soule to him doe commend In whose compare the heauens are most impure On whose free promises my hopes depend To
extremitie But wisdome weake my Reasons force was small To conquer loue which conquers wit and all I know no bastard Hauke can soare so high As doth the Hobbie towring high by kind Nor Aegle-like behold the worlds faire eye But with his beames their sight is stricken blind I know gainst Nature actions are in vaine And high-pitcht thoughts reape nothing but disdaine Yet Phaebus shining little Gnats may play Small flies may pearch them by the Aegles side It lies in compasse of thy yea or nay To be my bane or to become my Bride Loue strikes a match t'wixt mortall men and Gods Sweete loue me then can be no greater oddes O be remembred was not Vulcan lame Yet was he Lord of louely Venus bed Or if he were not more his wife to blame That rul'd the raynes to make him beare the head Such Vulcanes now are ours who doting olde Marrie young Maids to keepe them from co-colde Diuine Aurora full as faire as she Whose heauen-di'de face the Graces still admire Lou'd gray-beard Tython as ill fac'te as he And in her choice so pleas'd her chast desire That oft she said when Beauties dowre is spent Mine old-mans loue shall yeeld me sweet content I will not muffle vp a meane estate As smoth-tongu'd sutors daily vse to doe Bragging of Birth of Friends of this and that Of money lands yea and of Vertue too Breathing vaine boasts of many a golden shower And things God wot were neuer in their power A shame to boast of bloods antiquitie Wherein no honour nor true Vertue lies Each Brute may bragge hereof as well as we One still succeeding as another dyes T' is Vertue Minion doth nobilitate And makes a Monarch of a meane estate Let others promise Mountaines if they list Intrapping fooles by false insinuations Till womens hopes doe end in Had I wist And make them say Mens words are but temptations I hate all shifts plaine dealing still is blest I like the meane and here set downe my rest My dwelling is within a countrie Farme My table richly furnisht with Content My robes are such as keepe my body warme My pleasures rate sits at an easie rent My cheere is great my charge is very small My fruits my flocks my foes are none at all My life is nothing but a world of Loue I loue my God and next I loue my King I loue my Caesars friends that sit aboue I honour Vertue aboue any thing I loue my countrey and my dearest kin Briefly I nothing hate but mizers sin I spend the day time on these pleasant Plaines And while my Lambes grow wanton with the spring Vpon an oaten pype I cheere my paines And being wearie straight I fall to sing This done I laugh againe and shake my crowne To see the world of late turn'd vpside downe Our Fathers plained in their weary daies How much the world was chang'd from that of yore We say of late t' is turned many waies Yet will not stand as Adams did before Each side is turn'd and yet it standeth wrong And will doe still I 'le tell thee wench how long While Kings do thirst for Countries and for Crownes And Princes pray vpon their Neighbour Landes Might treads down right and Treason selleth Townes Iustice lies fetterd in oppressions bandes So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe While Nobles vainely vaunting of their blood Doe sell themselues to sensuall appetite Neglecting time to doe their Countrey good To punish wrongs ayde the poore-mans right So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe While citties swim in Lucre Lust and Pride No art but craft no gainefull trade but sinne While veluet breeches is allow'd to ride And aged Wisdome walketh bare and thinne So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe While Leacherie and Lucar strike a match Making a compound of two deadly sinnes And or'e th' Hesperian fruite like dragons watch Or as the Eden-keeping Cherubims So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe While poore are pincht by grunting Auarice And Gentils forste their ioyntures for to sell To Father Grauity whose biting vice Will send his soule for handsill vnto hell So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe While younglings chuse their Louers by their coyne Seeking to graft vpon a golden tree Goods make the choice the diuell he must ioyne But ware their soules the Priest will haue his fee So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe Briefly while Vices maske in Vertues weed And Reason made a Baude to each abuse While Beasts are fatted good men suffer need And all things altered from their proper vse So long the righteous gods will surely frowne And we shall finde the world turn'd vpside downe Thus while the world in sinne is madly tost Some beare the purse but Iudas loues no poore The rest in pleasures Labyrinth are lost And would returne but Custome keepes the doore I sit aloofe and laugh the world to scorne Happie in this to be a Shepheard borne I am a King my Conscience is my Crowne My Court is thoughts enriched with Content My minde to me is as a walled Towne My Treasure Grace which neuer can be spent The want of worldly things is very small To him whose heart desires them not at all I make my power the limits to my will And count wel doing summe of all my wealth My wishes fewe and easie to fulfill My care is none but soule and bodies health In Heauen my happe on God my hopes relye Loe thus I liue and thus I meane to dye Say me then Sweeting dost thou like mine offer My loue my life and all at thy commaund Say canst thou stoope vnto a poore mans proffer Thou art my Iudge here I holde vp my hand Now passe the speedy doome of life or death Or cure my bane or kill me with a breath I had no sooner said but straight began The cloudes appeare that menaced a storme Her face faire skie being turned pale and wan What might I hope but tempest euery houre The cursed Fates haue cloud-ecclipst my Sun Whose light once lost of force my life is done First darts her amiable brow coy frownes And cruell hate inserted in disdaine Inthrones her selfe then scorne and wrath abounds And where before Loue-tempting lookes did raigne There proud Contempt arm'd with disdainfull ire Scornd proffer'd seruice of my poore desire Heart-slaine with lookes I fell vpon the ground Her meaning strooke me ere her words were done As weapons met before they make a sound Or as the deadly bullet of a gunne Yet all my passions had no power to moue her But thus she rates me that so much did loue her Presumptuous Swaine proud selfe-conceited