Hector and Helen shew that cannot be Why do they then such mightie buildings reare Making in clay their liues aeternitie Knowing not when they can no longer last Fame dies with them and honour all doth wast Then let him liue for euer and in honour Riding triumphant in fames golden Carre That holdes the pen and sword so high in fauour And by his bounty guerdons both so farre As when the pen hath regestred his fame The sword hath sworne for ay to guard the same O let that man for euer be adornd Build him a temple on Pernassus hill Sing of him muses whom he neuer scornd Sound war like trumpets with his glory fill The empty aire together blase his fame That loues you both O euer praise his name But now is Helen weeping all this while No worlds delight can make hir leaue lamenting Hir hart of griefe is now become an Anuile Sorrow doth bed and sighs are still tormenting Then in plunges of a pained sprite She sayd to Hector thus and bad me write Ay me sweete Hector how am I tormented The fulnes of wrath is powrd downe on me If euer womans state was yet lamented Mine may be waild that now bevvaileth thee O might I die I should heauens ire fulfill But now they make me liue to plague me still They make me liue to see sweet Hector dead This is the torment wherewithall they greeue me A greater plague could not hang ore my head And that they knew for nothing can releeue me Vnlesse they will restore thy life againe Whom they in anger haue vntimely slaine But ah they did it for my lasting paine Framing a torture to endure for euer This was procurde by Iunos iel`ous braine Who works my woe by strength of great endeuour Only bycause she went without the ball That Venus got thus doth she plague vs all And now thou dearling of the world most deare By thee it is she works hir high despight Stopping the passage of those beamys cleare By which thy life did lend thine eies their light Then giuing out in hir hate most enuious That Helen was cause to make me odious Thus doe I liue of all the world despisde The Troyans harts doe inwardlie repine And though their formes be outwardlie misguisde Their thoughts perswade them that the fault was mine That this our flower our piller and our staie Did fade did fall through death did flit away But Hector now I doe appeale to thee And vnto witnesse doe I call thy ghost If thou vvert not as dearelie lou'de of me As of the wight that could affect thee most While thou didst liue I lou'd thy vertues euer And since thy death my hart al ioyes doth seuer O speake Andromach and Hecuba speake How did my soule it selfe to sorrow yeeld When we with him in weeping tearmes did breake Touching the dreame diswading him the field How did poore Helen his life then beg with you As with your selues his death she vvaileth now For who alasse hath greater cause to mourne And in continuall teares lament his death Streaming a tide that neuer doth returne Then she to whom his life vvas liuing breath For though through Troy a deadly smart be found Yet mine is most who neerlie seeks the wound The Gods conspirde it vvas not Helens fault That Hector dies or if that Troy shall burne Iuno from heauen poore Ilion doth assault And all hir force against it doth she turne Who warres vvith Gods and comes not to the worst Then Iunos cause that Troy decayeth first Venus besides commaunded me to come And sent hir Cupid to prepare the vvay Then how vniustlie am I blamde by some Saying Helen the vvhore wrought Troys decay For if the Gods decreed it thus before It vvas their vvils and Helen is no whore But vvho vvould think that heauens should malice bear That their perfection should admit of anger An ouglie forme ingendring gastlie feare A monster foule presaging nought but danger Who vvould suppose so huge vile a beast To lie and harbour in a Goddesse brest Yet this did Iuno foster in hir lap Iuno vniust both vnto Troy and me And in hir mallice hath she laid a trap How Troy should perish and I torturde be Which both are done by cutting Hector short Troys onlie Castle Helens chiefest fort With that she vveeping wrung hir hands and cride Hector O Hector this was all she said Then did she seat hir by hir sisters side Where still she vveepes but then hir speech was staide Sorrovve forst silence griefe ore-came hir hart And thus a saint did act an hellish part The Troyan Nobles all lamented there In sable garments fitting to their woe Deiphobus and Troylus with a heauie cheere For Hectors death doe wander to and fro The people too doe make a dolefull noise And call on Hector iointly in one voice Hector O Hector from a troubled spirit They crie amaine as if they would him pull From death to life and bring his eies to light Which now was sunke into his hollovv scul Hector O Hector Hector thus they crie Who being dead they all do seeme to die Then doe they vvalke all mal-content about From place to place not knovving where to rest Sometime they stand and giue a monstrous shout Like to the yell of a many-headed beast And then returne to Hector vvhere he lies The men in grones the Women in outcries Like to the kinde and louing naturde Bees That swarme togither if but one be greeued Which leaues his hiue and seeketh hollovv trees They fly with him and looke he be releeued Humming they mourne as if they felt his greefe So they can sorrow but lend no releefe Then as a Ram that doeth retire back To make returne with greater violent force So wil these folks their cries outragious slacke And go lamenting still from Hectors corse Till by and by they will returne againe Shriking in teares like thunderclaps in raine Or like the billovv beating on the shore That fals off gentlie making little noise But when he comes againe doth rage so sore As men far off may heare his raging voice Swelling vvith fome through Aeolus puffing pride So do they yell when they 're by Hectors side They vveep they waile they mourn they fret with anger They sweare they vow reuenge for Hectors sake Their harts are boldned through their present danger Although for greefe they driery wailings make Thus al amasde they wander to and fro His life did please his death did irke them so They curse Achilles in this bitter rage They frowne they grin their teeth they sternly whet Like desperate men they say nought shal asswage Their ire but bloud on bloud they al are set But why do we Achilles name They say Which heauens pollutes darks the brightsom day Alas poore Troy what wight can ere bewaile And not lacke words to write thy great lamentings To tell thy vvoes euen Ieremie might faile That writ so well Ierusalems wamentings For who can
THE Lamentation of Troy for the death of Hector Wherevnto is annexed an Olde womans Tale in hir solitarie Cell Omne gerendum leue est LONDON Printed by Peter Short for William Mattes 1594 To the Right Honorable Sir Peregrin Bartue knight Lord of Willoughby and Earsby al increase of Honor and true happinesse I Haue presumed Right honourable vpon these three reasons to present this vnworthy pamphlet vnto your honors courteous view and fauourable protection The first is from your own noble worthinesse for that you are and are so thought the onely Hector of Albion and therfore most worthy to protect Hector The second for that it was the wil and desire of the Ghost of the woful Ghost of Ilion that in hir teares you might behold the sorrows of your owne countrey whensoeuer iniurious fates shoulde cause you miscarrie The third and last is my good Lord mine owne priuate affection wherein I haue long honoured you and hauing no place to make it knowne haue long desired to finde some opportunitie to shew the same I hope your Lordship will pardon me for that affection is a most veniall offence And if heerein I doe not honour your Lordship so much as you are worthy and I earnestlie wish yet please it you to fauour and pardon this first and as time and yeares shall enable me with a more experienced iudgement and knowledge I will studie and endeuour that which shal be more worthy your honours fauourable protection Please it you accept and I am graced and my labour richly rewarded I cease to trouble your Lordship further at this time I vow my selfe to your Lordships seruice and so most humbly take my leaue Your Honours humbly at command I. O. The Prologue WHilom to him whom Morpheus God of sleepe Made slumbring dreames his sences al to keepe Lockt in the prison of the darke some night When eares were deafe and eyes could see no light When men are made the liuely forme of death Saue onely that they softly draw a breath Did come a Ghost a ghost most gastly crying Helpe me to death that haue so long beene dying With that he wakened and with feare beholding Saw hir lament her armes togither folding A pale-wan thing and yet with wounds fresh bleeding Sodden in teares in teares that were exceeding He much afright began to shrinke for feare She bad him feare not but my story heare I am Troys ghost that now appeares to thee And well I know that thou hast heard of me But now I come not what I was to tell For what I was alas each one knowes wel I come to thee to craue thy gentle ayde To further her that hath so long beene staide From blissefull rest because I haue not told My woes for Hector which I must vnfold But that alasse am I not able euer To shew alone without the kind endeuor Of some good wight that can bewaile with me And tell my tale while I shall weeping be The churlish Charon thwarts my passage ouer Saying my soule shal neuer blisse recouer Till I haue doone this weary taske imposed Neuer my ghost shal be in rest reposed O helpe me then to tell my doleful story That I at last may cease to be so sory First will I speake and to the world declare For Hectors death mine euerlasting care So long til teares doe stop my faltring tong And when I cease I pray thee tell along He then accorded to hir pitteous sute Granting to speake when teares did make hir mute So that she would lay open to his eies The cause and manner of hir wofull cries Then forth with causde she vnto him appeare The forme of Troy the persons that were there Chiefest mourners for worthy Hectors death As they then wailde when fates new stopt his breath He then emboldende stoutly veiwd them all And tels her tale when she from speach doth fall Writing their words vnto the world to shew them It was her will that he might so renew them Yet had she rather Spencer would haue told them For him she calde that he would helpe t' vnfold them But when she saw he came not at hir call She kept hir first man that doth shew them all All that he could but all can no man shew But first she spake as after doth ensew Troys Lamentation for the death of Hector LO here the teares and sad complaint of her Within whose gates all ioyes were once abounding Faire Ilions teares whose deepe laments may stir A flintie hart vnto a sigh-resounding Yet for hir selfe doth Ilion not mone But for hir Hector which is dead and gone Sweet sacred Muses you whose gentle eares Are wont to listen to the humble praier Of plaining Poets and to lend your teares From your faire eies vnto a woes-displayer Now rest your selues your ayde I not implore For in my selfe I finde aboundant store Nor can I craue vpon your blubbered cheeks That you for me more showers should be raining Though you are kind to euery one that seekes Yet haue you matter for your owne complaining I saw your teares and pittifull wamentings But they are few that list to your lamentings Good naturde Nymphs you are too milde for me Troy tels of horror and of driery things Let your faire ayde in Loue and Musick be Or in his tongue which pleasant Poems sings Furies and Frensies are fit companie To helpe to blase my wofull tragedie The damned Soules that liue in lasting paine Whose endlesse torments force them to be yelling Sounds euer balefull and whose bane againe Is that in torture they are euer dwelling Their sighes and shrikes accompanie full well My trembling toong this greeuous tale to tell Snake-wreath'd Alecto and Megaera railing Howling Tisiphon euermore lamenting With all that vgly is or else still wailing Their cursed haps and are deepe hell frequenting Such as breath sulphur in eternal groning They are companions fitting to my moning Stone rowling Sisiphus in his wearie taske And thirstie Tantalus in his riuer biding And wofull Yxyon al these might I aske To be with shrikes my drery penne a guiding But I my selfe suffice without assistance If soules effusion be sufficient greeuance Hector thou knowst or else thy soule doth know For thou alas art Hector now no more Haue Troy ten thousand soules she will bestow Them all on thee and powre them out before The throne of Ioue for mercy euer calling For ah thy ruine was our vtter falling But why alas must thou needs die so soone Troys cheefe-supporter and the worlds great-wonder O let the man that thee to death hath doone From deaths fel torments neare be seene asunder O let him euer die yet not be slaine But when he would be dead reuiue againe Heape on him torments and ore-whelme with woes Hels Queene Proserpina this I begge of thee And if there be some wights thou countst thy foes O with those plagude ones let him placed be Or if there be a place that 's worse than hel Grant
Abradatas his death With gaulling griefe and bitter percing stings But yet hir sorrow made hir stop hir breath Thus death a period to hir tormente brings But this sweete Lady woe hath so possest That she must liue and death may giue no rest No present rest and so no rest at all Death when he came he came but came too late Sorrow before had wroght hir vtter fall Thus had she cause both death and life to hate Death that did stay and do hir so much wrong To linger life that liu'd in death so long By hir Cassandra with hir lolling locks Dissheuerd all vpon hir shoulders lieng With heauie chere hir thought-sore brest she knocks So hard as Eccho is againe replieng A dolfull thump the Temple so did sound And thus she waits hir brother in that stound Ay me she cries I knew this long before That Paris fire must haue a sea to quench it And now I feare the flames will burne so sore As we in time shall neuer liue to stanche it The only spring wherein the vertue lay To slake the fire is dride and dead this day O Hector thou that wert our spring of life Thy death is now the cause of many a spring Fountaines do flowe in euery corner rife Of blubering teares thers now no other thing In Troy but teares since Hector did depart For ah thy death hath causd our endlesse smart I tolde my brother Paris what would fall And that a flame should follow through the seaes At his returne he gaue no heed at all But hoisted saile his fancy he would please He burnt with loue and we shall burne by loue As by thy death I feare poore Troy shall proue Yet hadst thou liu`d alas what booteth had Thou dost not liue and therefore dies my soule Yet while I liue in sable garments clad For thee my brother will I sitte and howle And now I come to beare them company Who went afore in this thy tragedy Then sat she downe hard by hir Sisters side Andromache that did with teares brine The margine fill of Hectors wound so wide By trickling drops distilling from hir eien There did she weepe with hir the King and Queene And next to mourne came in faire Pollicene Alas that virgines should be so distract To spoile sweete faces that are made so pleasing She tore hir golden haire O rufull acte And on hir forhead was hir nailes a seazing The blood ran downe and teares ore-tooke the same And both gusht afresh when she did Hector name Hir tender limmes did tremble as she stood As did Diana when the huntseman spide hir Vnlucky huntseman ranginge in the wood She being naked hauing nought to hide hir Thus did she quake such is a virgines feare To se him dead whome she did hold so deare Shriking she cries alas what shall I doo Hector is dead that was our only stay Troy shall be burnt and I deflowred to The angry Gods conclude our wrack this day For in the stopping of this one mans breath They plainly shew they minace Ilions death Yet gentle Gods vouchsafe a virgines praier Through Cristall skies to pierce your sacred eares O heare my voice my voice my harts-bewraier My hart and voice that are be-duld with teares O heare now heare a pure virgines mones If euer Gods did heare a virgines grones Here haue we Temples builded to your names And with deuotion we doe them adore Our Altars smoke with sweet perfumed flames And on our knees your graces we implore Why are you angry then O Gods with vs That in all dutie reuerence you thus But Reason must not reason with the Gods It is their wil what wil then dare say nay They will the Greekes and Troyans be at ods Vntil poore Troy be brought vnto decay Our incense stinks our sacrifice displease No offring may their kindled ire appease Hector is dead in whom they did delight Hector our sacrifice and incense sweet Who while he liu'd we trusted in his might The Gods still laide the Grecians at his feet Til that their wrath was kindled ouer Troy And then displeasde they tooke from vs our ioy O send him backe faire heau`ns for our defence If that the Gods wil part with such a treasure But ah my praier may breed more offense O keepe him then I know it is your pleasure This is the prayer which I humbly craue That I be laide a virgine in my graue I know the Letcher hopes to haue his will Now that my honours chiefest guard is gone But I with Phillis first my selfe wil kill I le be no pray for him to seaz vpon He slew my brother hopes he now of me No bloudy traytor that shal neuer be Thinkst thou a Virgins pure affection can Admit thee loue that passeth thorough bloud Hast thou by treason slaine so braue a man And by that reason hopst thou so much good As that my hart wil euer yeelde to thee No bloudy traitor it shal neuer be I neuer yet did staine my spotlesse hart By taking comfort in a strangers death And doost thou thinke it were a Sisters part To loue the man that stopt hir brothers breath My brother dearer then my life to me No bloudy traitor it shal neuer be My hand this hand which neuer yet did act Where rigour force or violence might be found Shal rather yeeld to worke a bloudy fact Which yet attempt my tender hart would swound Or in my selfe or else in murdring thee Rather then thou shalt euer ioy in me But yet I know that I am deere to thee I and I know that once I lou'd thee deerely But now my hart hath quite forgotten thee And inlie longs to punish thee seuerely My feruent loue shal now he turnde to hate And once my will shal worke against my fate O Hector how shal I lament for thee When Womens teares are not sufficient strong Let heauen and earth for me auenged be While I bewaile thee in a sighing song I can bewaile thee but while life doth last But if I may I wil when life is past Then with an heauy cheere and downe-cast looke She sat hir downe amidst the mourning crew And to her teares hir selfe she hath betooke At whose approch the rest doe al renew Their doleful shrikes which stinted not before But greater number makes their shriking more A loofe from these did stand in sable weedes For mourning garments fit a mourneful mind A man whose hart and very soule now bleedes To see that Hector was to death assignde And this was Paris brocher of their woe But he to Greece by Heauens instinct did go Venus commanded who could hir denie Had she not giuen me thinkes a man should craue it For such a prize who would not Fortune trie And venture life and goods and al to haue it Nor fire nor water should his passage stay To gaine fruition of so sweet a pray Yet now he mourns for euery sweet hath sower Alasse
that pleasure is not euer biding But like an herbe that buddeth with a shower Should with a frost againe away be gliding Why haue the gods Loues-queen immortal made And yet hir ioyes like withered grasse do fade But now he mournes and pleasure must not dure Hector is dead and therefore doth it perish While Hector liu'de they thought themselues secure But since his death none can the Troyans cherish Ech man can mourne but none can comfort make Al Troy doth greeue so much for Hectors sake Poore Paris he is in a world of woes Legions of sorrowes do possesse his heart And as a man al mal-content he goes Or like an actor in a tragike part In muttering words vnto himselfe he talkes And then he stands and sighes and then he walkes Stopping his pace as doth a troubled wight That goes then stands and then turnes backe againe Hiding his face he hates to see the light For darkenesse fits a melancholy braine Only he wil sometime lift vp his eies And gastly looke at Hector as he lies Thus doth he walke like one that is amased Biting his lip impaling so his griefe For men do scorne to haue their sorrowes blased By shrikes and teares which women giues reliefe But greatest windes are when there is no raine And so in sighs thus Paris doth complaine O heauens quoth he why are you so vniust To heape on me more woes than I can beare Why did you lay my glorie in the dust And yet torment me with a greater feare Did you me vppe into your bosome take To throw me thence into the Stygian lake Was Paris borne to be his Countreys bane Were Goddesses conspiring therevnto Did Venus therefore into Greece me traine That I should be the instrument of woe Why do the Gods poore Ilions death conspire And make men say that I set Troy on fire The cause was iust that in the Aegaean seas I launcht my ship and hoisted saile amaine Bending for Greece I did not goe to please Lasciuious wil as some vniustlie faine For though that she my hart did nighly tuch Yet were there reasons that did moue as much Proude Telamon borne in Achaia land With-held by force faire Exion mine Aunt The pride of whom so nigh our harts did stand That Grecians should in Troyan conquests vaunt That sweet Reuenge did bid vs seeke awaie To rid our friend that did in bondage staie My father then for hir his sister deare Did cal a counsell crauing their aduise And euerie one spake Pro contra there In waightie causes so it is the guise Eche man to speake what lieth in his brest And then the king set downe what likes him best Some led by reason thought it very meet Not euery one can future things foresee That we should now erect a mighty fleete And make for Greece in al the hast might be Eyther to lose mine Aunt from out hir tether Or else to rape some Grecian Lady hether Of this aduise was that good Deiphobus My brother deare and eke a worthy knight And vnto him assent did Troylus For well they knew our valure and our might And with their iudgements was my liking seene Hauing my lesson taught me by Loues-queene Besides Reuenge did hammer in our heads And eke a care to ease our fathers woe Our might in men in armes in stately steeds My fathers griefe our right doe al say goe The king himselfe approou`d our counsell well But then some others gan him thus to tel My Lord quoth Hector I that gals my heart My woes redouble when I doe him name I feele my sences from their subiects part And scorching sighes my troubled soule inflame O had his verdict yet beene with the rest Such stormes had neuer beaten in my brest His prudent counsel did dissuade from warre His courage though did manage stil the same Twixt Greekes and vs there was an auncient iar Which euerie man did with reuenge inflame But he whose hart was neuer yet affraid In wisedome wished peace and thus he said My Lord quoth he and eke my father deere Whose sage aduise with reuerence I doe honour Please it your grace benignly me to heare Speaking by support of your high fauour And eke to pardon what be said amisse Touching the voyage this my iudgement is I know right well by force of Natures might Nothing is sweeter than reuenge to man When very beasts of wrongs themselues wil right And render like for like in what they can Then needs your hart must for reuengement long That haue sustainde by Greekes so great a wrong But yet you see their power is very great I speake not this for cowardise or dread For Gods do know my soule dooth inlie fret Til I may reap the proudest Grecians head And in their bloud I bathe my thirstie blade That 's neuer quencht so much am I afraide But this I say the Grecian force is great Europe and Africk doe support their might The men are Warlike and they will intreat A weaker foe with termes of vile despight I wish that therefore you be wel aduised Before your purpose yet be enterprised Asia is rich and we in peace now flourish Presume not though on Fortune for a smile For though that Troy a troope of Gallants nourish And men resolude yet she may al beguile Then trust not hir whose truth was neuer knowne Better sit stil then rise and ouerthrowne And yet so great a wrong done in despite Cannot be brooked by a noble mind Pesants may beare but Kings must needes requite Abuses offred when they doe them finde Wrought in contempt intended to disgrace Whose thoughts are lesse deserue a lower place But yet dread sir forecast what may befal Such high matters deepe iudgement doe require A sudden blast may ouerthrow vs al One little sparke may set al Troy on fire Respect the ende beginnings oft are faire And promise much yet issue in despaire Like to the flattering face of Phoebus bright That in the morne his curteine will vnspread And grace the earth with shine of glittering light Shewing the world his beamy-gorgeous head Then by and by his glory all will shrowd Within the compasse of a gloomy cloude Mine Aunt is dere The wrong not to be borne Hir bondage base Your sorrow full of danger Insulting greekes ech Troian hart doth scorne Yet watch your time wherein to worke your anger And then powre downe your wrath in violls full And crush the braines of each barbarian scull So shall your purpose take his sound effect This sudden complot may repentance breed Then for your selfe and countries weal respect And of their force and malice take good heed Better mine Aunt should yet in bondage tarry Then for hir sake both you and Troy miscarry Thus to your highnes haue I told my mind Wishing too rashly that you not attempt The spitefull Greekes Time will occasion find Whereby you shall repay their high contempt Then shall this hand imbrued in theyr blood Worke
their shrines to be saued When in the men is power to giue Vnto some of those Saints whether they liue Or perish through loue but alas men know not When they haue this power and so they do not Giue them their doom women so well dissemble still Well now to loue it was my will And to be lou`d was his harts desire Who said he burnt in loues damned fire Such inward flames did kindle in his brest That so long as I delaid he found no rest This he vowd with protestations And seald with sighs and heauy lamentations Begging at me with great humility That I on him would haue some pitty Else should he alas by loue perish Now did I all this while cherish A greater fire in my heart Loue had in me a bigger part And reason I had on him to haue remorse Who was deeper wounded by the same force For though I smothered in the flame And vnder modesty hid the same As in deede so we ought to proue Whether men dissemble or truly loue Yet at last it burnt so strong None can hide fire long That will by his light it selfe discouer That I was compelled to tell my louer That now I lou'd as well as he Here need no recitall be Of our great ioy there was no tarrying To hinder vs now from our marrying Both vvhose hearts loue had so sharply vvhet That they were only onmariage set To try the knot of ioy and pleasure The bond of loue the louers treasure But novv I vvill omit the complements The feastings iustings and turnements The maskes banquets and iollities The routs reuels and companies The sights shewes and tragoedies Of state and for mirth the commedies That were at our wedding solemnised These being done it was deuised That I should now away wend With my new husband and my deare frend Into the country where he did then wunne And as it was deuised so was it done And with him did I liue a happy wife About twenty yeares during his life But when we had liu`d together so long O here begins my wofull song In all delight and honest pleasure Tasting of ioy in a full measure In this the highest of my blisse By death away he taken is He whom I did loue so dearely My stay my ioy my comfort merely Alas what neede I tell the monings The teares the griefes and the wofull wailings That then I haue most inly conceaued When Death from me hath him bereaued O let them iudge that know the like What seuerall torments their soules do strike Alas I die to thinke thereon With that hir speach was from hir gone She weps and wails and often to death swound Falling with hir face plat vpon the ground She is with sorrovv so vvoe-begone As one that ment to die anone But that ne may endure hir kinde Then doth she hir sences againe find Through that small aide that I could lend hir In such a case vvho could not but befrend hir And after thus telleth on hir vvofull story Ay me she sayes hovv could I be but sory From him that vvas so deare to part For loue and frendship make the knot in the heart When brotherhood knits but in the bloud Therefore I hold it oft more good And lesser griefe some brother to forgo Then a faithful friend but alas what shal I doe That haue lost both a friend and a brother That was to me both the one and the other My husband my rocke my chiefest piller My hope my ioy my dearest wel-willer But yet alack this is not all Such torments oft to others fall By death to lose their husbands companie And such as were their chiefe felicitie Many before me so haue done * And for example take Andromach for one What were hir tortures when she hir Lord lost How vvas Penelope in sorrowes seas tost While hir Vlisses floted on the maine Longing to see him at Ithica againe Yet might not enjoy him of long time nor tide But alasse hir sorrow vvas smal to abide * Now vvas al this but the step to my woes The keie of care the ground-worke of sorrowes The feareful entrance to a further danger The bloudy herald of more cruell anger What should I say the messenger of death O heer 's my griefe now stops my breath Here is the cause of my calamitie And the verie floud-gate opening to miserie O staie a vvhile I cannot yet speake Then did she sigh as if hir hart would breake Watering the furrows of hir wrinckled face With teares that she shovvred dovvne apace Wringing hir hands and cursing cruel time That thus had changed since hir flowring prime But then she cleered from that drooping raine And gastlie cries anew this was my deadly paine To see my children weepe and mone Which he left vnto me alone To see them in such pitious state Mourning to me and I disconsolate * Alas he left me children three Children distrest and mother in miserie For father dead and husband gone Yet doe the yongest not onlie mone For death of their father but for he vnkind Had them no dearer in his mind They waile his death lament their own estate I weepe for both we al curse cruell fate For now ere he died by will he gaue That Maximio the eldest should al haue So was he called that was my first-borne But the other two hath he left forlorne Whereof the one was hight Medalgo And the other was ycleped Iunio. Only he stil reseru`d my portion For it was my ioynter by condition Ne could he that dispose awaie But for the yonger he left slender staie Little he gaue to them God knowes A poore pention he bestowes An annual rent of fiue pounds charge And yet he thought it ouer large To burden his house with such a pay Alas alas now may they wel say What booteth vs our birth or our bloud What doth gentilitie doe vs good What are we better then the base Seing Nature and Fortune thus vs disgrace O the great follio of Albions fond custome Iudge austere O most vnequall doome Yet had Maximio still beene liuing But fates after his father soone wrought his ending Their wants by his bountie had beene supplied For to his hart they were so nighe tied That they ne might aske what he would not giue But he eke is dead and his sonne doth liue His sonne fostred among his mothers kin Of whom they must now first begin To insinuate acquaintance if they would ought haue And yet aske and goe without they say they must saue For the yong infant Maximios sonne But alasse vvhy had fate Maximio done To fell death so suddenlie That he ne had his memorie To doe for his brothers as nature would And as indeed their father should Had he remembred Natures right Thus on a sudden changed was my light My glorious shining and my summers daie Is now gone downe and drencht in the sea It setteth with the sun but neuer may arise For now alasse doth
mind it vphold Paris was poore amongst the shepheards knowne Yet had he a mind by which he was showne To be more high then a shepheards swaine And Cyrus too doth shew vs plaine That sparkes of a Gentleman wil alwaies appeare Though Fortune often such malice beare That Sparco shall be the nurse to a king And that a bitch shal food bring To him that is heire to a crowne Yet wil the mind neuer be put downe She obscures the worth yet the mind she cannot quel And yet too oft times she dooth so deale That she wil abate euen a courage stout For want hath no place to put their vertues out As they that haue gold which giues them a count'nance The want whereof must needs be greeuance To a good mind to see meaner gifts preferd Only by Gold when better are debard O want is a gall that greeueth all good harts Want is a curb to hold in vertuous parts want duls good wits want makes high spirits soft Want keepes them low that ought to sit aloft Want in a man al good things doth conceale But O that custome should so deale To make fathers their sonnes decaie Who should in Nature be their staie For what is it but their destruction Meerely their bane and confusion As now more plainely shall appeere For sure it is a case most cleere That the world lookes they maintaine their worth That their count'nance be as was their birth That they hold their place and reputation That they keepe their credit and estimation That they maintaine the state of a Gentleman Now would I know who he is that can Maintaine all these without wealth liuing For wealth though true honour it is not giuing Yet it is an ornament of Gentilitie As it is held to be to felicitie For Philosophers deeme it is not of the beeing Of Summum Bonum and yet seeing Men are not happie without riches adiuments They hold them to be felicities ornaments But yet in these daies they may wel be called The seat wherein Gentry is installed Men in these times by their riches rise For who so hath wealth that man is wise His words are respected with good aduertence He speakes not a tittle wherein is not sapience He is graue sage and prudent He is the Orator only eloquent For who so speakes by golds direction Speaketh soundly without contradiction Men that are rich are all in all Then do I maruaile that true Gentlemen fall Into this custome to impouerish their name When the baser doe seeke to extol the same Do they thinke their yonger sons can liue of naught O this was the custome that Medalgo brought To beggerie who was a man wel borne This is it that makes many men forlorne This was it that brought Iunio to his end * But sure I maruel that men cannot mend This olde grosse and frantike fashiowne Seeing that Wisedome in hir discretion Prouideth for hir yonger sonne so vvel For though the eldest in hir honour shal dvvel After hir death and falling And be raised to honourable calling Yet doth hir Iunio novv remaine In honour before and his place hath tane Of his brother Maximio so hath wisedome forseene In hir high pollicie that the yonger should beene Raised aloft while she is liuing Ne doth she seeke so much to be giuing Honour to him to whom of due After hir death it must ensew If men were wise they vvould Wisedome follovv But novv is the olde woman in hir Caue hollow Where she waileth not so much for hir owne estate As of hir tvvo sonnes the cruell fate Banning and cursing such customes antiquitie As is the cause of so great miserie To many braue mindes which are vvel borne And yet like meane vassals left forlorne For conuenient prouision beseeming their vvorth But now from hir am I come forth Leauing hir good soule in hir melancholie Cel VVhere she intendeth aye to dwel Til Atropos doe for hir as she did To hir husband and sons when she cut their liues thred FINIS I. O. Read Wrest Leafe 5 first side fift line Flow 8 le 2 side 8 li Disheueled nine leafe 1 side 20 line Wailes line 24. forsaken 10 line 2 side 21 line Billowes 13 lea 2. side 22 line Teares 13 lea 2. side 25. line Then 15. l 1 fi 31 li. That 17 l 2 si 11 line Beat same lea 28 line Priam Hecuba Hecuba queen of sad Seas Andromache Cassandra Quanta per has nescis flamma petatur aquas Pollixina Paris Helena silenâ—