dolefull case Where walkes no wight but I alone in drewsie desart place And there I empt my laden hart that sweld in fretting mone My sighes and playnts and panges I tell vnto my selfe alone What shall I say doo aske mee once why all these sorowes bee â–ª I answere true O foe or freend they all are made for thee Once knit the lynck that loue may last then shal my dollors ceasâ— It lyes in thee and wilt thou not the yeelding wight release O would to God it lay in mée to cure such gréefe of thine Thou shouldst not long be voyd of helpe if t were in power of mine But I would run range in stormes a thousand miles in payne Not fearing foyle of freends to haue my couÌ„tenance whole agayn And wilt thou then all mercylesse more longer torment mee In drawing backe sith my good helpe is only whole in thée Then send mée close y hewing knife my wider wound to stratch And thou shalt see by wofull gréefe of life a cleane dispatch When thou shalt say and prooue it true my hart entirely lou'd Which lost the life for countnance swéet froÌ„ whoÌ„ hée neuer mou'd Write then vpon my wofull Tombe these verses grauen aboue Heere lyes the hart his truth to trie that lost his life in loue Loe saue or spill thou mayst mee now thou sitst in iudgment hie Where I poore man at Bar doo stand and lowd for life doo cry Thou wilt not bée so mercylesse to slea a louing hart â–ª Small prayse it is to conquer him that durst no where to start Thou hast the sword that cut the wound of my vnholâ—en payne Thou canst and art the only helpe to heale the same agayne Then heale the hart that loues theé well vntill the day hée dye And firmely fast thy loue on him that 's true continually In thée my wealth in thee my woe in thée too saue or spill In thee mee lyfe in thee my death doth rest to worke thy will. Let vertue myxt with pitty great and louing mercy saue Him who without thy salue so sicke that hee must yeeld to graue O salue thou then my secret sore sith health in thee dooth stay And grauÌ„t with speed my iust request whose want works my decay Then shal I blesse the pleasaÌ„t place where once I tooke thy gloue And thanke the God who giues thée grace to grauÌ„t me loue for loue FINIS ¶ A louing Epistle written by Ruphilus a yonge Gentilman to his best beloued Lady Elriza as followeth TWice hath my quaking hand withdrawen this pen away And twice againe it gladly would before I dare béewray The secret shrined thoughts that in my hart do dwell That neuer wight as yet hath wist nor I desire to tell But as the smoothered cole doth wast and still consume And outwardly doth geue no heate of burnyng blaze or fume So hath my hidden harmes béen harbred in my corpce Till faintyng limmes and life and all had welnigh lost his force Yet stand I halfe in doubt whiche of these two to choose To hide my harmes still to my hurt or els this thraldome loose I will lay feare aside and so my tale beginne Who neuer durst assaile his foe did neuer conquest win Lo here my cause of care to thée vnfolde I will Help thou Minerua graunt I pray some of thy learned skill Help all you Muses nine my wofull Pen to write So stuffe my verse with pleasant wordes as she may haue delight With héedyng eares to reade my gréeif and great vnrest Some wordes of plaint may moue perhaps to pitty my request Oft haue I hard complaint how Cupid beares a sway In brittle youth and would commaund and how they did obay When I with skorning eares did all their talke dispise But well I see the blinded boy in lurking den hée lies To catch the careles sorte awayting with his Darte Hée threw at mée when I vnwares was wounded to the harte To speake and pray for helpe now loue hath mée constrainde And makes mée yéeld to serue the sorte that lately I disdainde Sith beggars haue no choyce nor néede had euer law The subiecte Oxe doth like his yoke when hée is driuen to draw That Ruphilus this wrote thou wonder wilt I know Cause neuer erst in louinge vearse my labor I bestowe Well woful loue is mine and wéeping lines I wright And doubtfull wordes with driery chéere beséemes a careful wight O thou Elrisa fayre the beuty of thine eyes Hath bred such bale within my drest and cau'sde such strife to ryse As I can not forget vntill deuouring death Shal leaue to mee a senceles goast and rid my longer breath Or at the least that thou doo graunt mée some releefe To ease the gréedy gripes I féele and end my great mischéefe As due to mee by right I can no mercy craue Thou hast the power to graunt mée life refuse not for to saue Put to thy helping hand to salue the wounded sore Though thou refuse it for my sake yet make thine honour more Too cruell were the facte if thou shouldst séeke to kill Thy faythful fréend that loues thee so and doth demaund no ill Thy heauenly shape I saw thy passing bewty bright Enforst mée to assay the bayt where now my bane I bight I nought repent my loue nor yet forthinke my facte The Gods I know were all agreed and secretly compacte To frame a worke of prayse to show their power deuine By good aduice this on the earth aboue the rest to shine Whose perfecte shape is such as Cupid feares his fall And euery wight that hath her séene I say not one but all With one consent they cry lo here dame Venus ayer Not Danae nor shée dame Lede was euer halfe so faire Though Princes sue for grace and ech one do thee woo Mislyke not this my meane estate wherwith I can nought doo As highest seates wee sée be subiect to most winde So base and poore estates we know be hateful to the minde The happy meane is mine which I do haply holde Thy honor is to yéeld for loue and not for heape of golde If euer thou hast felte the bitter panges that stinges A louers brâ—st or knowest the â—ares that Cupid on vs flinges Then pitty my request and wayle my wofull case Whose life to death with hasty whéeles doo toumble on apace Uouchsafe to â—ase the paine that loue on mée doth whelme Let not thy freend to shipwracke go sith thou doost hold his helme Who yeelâ—eth all hée hath as subiect to thy will If thou commaund hée doth obey and all thy heastes fulfill But if thou call to minde when I did part thee fro What was the cause of my exile and why I did forgo The happy life I held and lost there with thy sight Well mayst thou wayle thy want of troth rue thy great vnright If thou be found to fayle thy vow that thou hast sworne Or that one iot of my good will out of thy
By vewing of thy face Full oft it ioyes my hart To kisse â–ª that clot of clay From whence thou shot those louing lookes Which bred my whole decay O blessed place I cry Though woorker of my payne Render I craue most hartely To mee my loue agayne Not wofull Monsier dom Dieg Or Priams noble sonne Constrayned by loue did euer mone As I for thée haue donne Sir Romeus annoy But trifle seemes to mine Whose hap in winning of his loue Did clue of cares vntwine My sorrowes haue no ende My hap no ioy can spie The flowing Fountayne of my teares Beginneth to waxe drie Let pitty then requyte my payne O woorker of my woe Let mercy milde possesse thy harte Which art my freendly foe Receiue the hart which heare I yeeld into her hand Which made by force a breach in Fort Which I could not withstande Thou hast in Ballance paysd My life and eke my death Thy loyalty contaynes my ioy Disdayne will stop my breath If constant loue may reape his hire And fayth may haue his due Good hope I haue your gentill hart My grislie greefe will rue And that at length I shall My hartes delight imbrace When due desart by curtesie Shall purchace mee thy grace Untill which time my deare Shall still increase my payne In pensiue thoughtes and heauinesse Because I shall remayne FINIS ¶ A Caueat to yongmen to shun the snares of Cupids crafty sleightes IF euer wight had cause to mone or wayle with bitter teares His wretched life and wofull plight that still in languish weares Then haue I cause that late haue lodgde â–ª such loue within my hart With gréefe with payne with pyning panges â–ª my body boyles in smart O earth why doost not thou my wofull plight sustayne O surging Seas with swallowing gulfe release mee of this payne For languishing loue with dolefull doomes â–ª hath layd my hart in brine O wofull wretch O wicked wight That so for loue doth pine The Sonne that shines with golden beames and dries the dewie flowers Doth cause mée wretch with blubbering eyes to gush forth extreame showers The hermony of chirping birdes that ioyes with siluer songes Eche lyuing wight doth cause my cares to fill my hart with thronges Eche gladsome ioy of mundaine glée That glads the worldly minde Doth heape vp cares on carefull corps agaynst all course of kinde And so eche thing that ought delight and rid the minde from pause Contrariwise agaynst all right a thousand cares doth cause For when that I in sugred sleepe most swéetly should take rest Then doo I wring my wofull handes and beate my dolefull brest And if I chaunce on sleepe to fall a thousand dreames I haue And doo suppose I her embrace whose want will cause my graue And then with gladsome hart I ioy thus cleane depriued of wo But oh alas when that I wake I finde it nothing so And then my sighes from sobbing harte doth reaue my brest in twayne And teares that run from blubbered eyes doth more encrease my payne And when I should sustayne my lyfe and féeble corps with foode Unsauory séemes it vnto mee eache thing should doo mee good Amidst the nipping frostes I broyle in pearching heate I freese And thus agaynst all course of kinde for loue my lâ—fe I leese Wo woorth the time that first I lodgde thy sâ—oyling loue in harte You yonge men al bée warnd by mée And shun blinde Cupids Darte FINIS ¶ The aged Louers noate at length to learne to dye WHy askest thou the cause Wherfore I am so sad Thou knowst wheÌ„ age on draws No creature can bee glad And sith shée hath mée rested And threatned mee to die Therfore I am sequestred All mirth for to denie And now with feeble age The rest of all my dayes My couÌ„tenance must be ful sage Since that my life decayes Like as the harte of Oke By time doth rot at last Like time doth age prouoke With time my hart doth brast Lo thus by course of time My youth is gone and past And now the turne is mine Of bitter death to taste And noate that I haue sayd The cause wherof and why My youthfull partes be playde And I must learne to die FINIS ¶ The desperate Louer exclaymeth his Ladyes cruelty and threatneth to kill himselfe MY ioyful dayes bée past My plasant yeres be gone My life it may not last My graue and I am one My mirth and all is fled And I a man in woo Desireth to bee dead My mischâ—â—fe to forgoe I burne and am a colde I freese in middest of fire I sée shée dooth with hold That most I doo desire I sée that shée doth sée And yet shee wil be blinde I see in healpinge mee Shée seeketh and wil not finde I sée how shée doth wrye When I begin to mone I see when I come nye How fayn shée would be gone I see shee knoweth my harte And how I doo complayne I see shâ—â— knoweth my smarte Shee seeth I doo not fayne I see my helpe at hand I see my death also I see where shee doth stand I see my cruell fo I see what would you more Shee would mee gladly kill And shee shall see therfore That shee shall haue her will. I cannot liue by stones It is to harde a food I would be dead at once to doo my Lady good Shee shall haue her request And I will haue mine ende Lo heeâ—e my blouddy brest To please her most vnkinde FINIS ¶ The Louer beeing blinded with the faythlesse loue of his Lady is contented to remit her fault vpon promis of amendment SInce that thou diddest mee loue When lust did thee prouoke And that thou doost well proue That I cannot reuoke My fréendship fast my loue nor my good will Shew some reléefe least in dispayre I spill How well I was content â—lwayes to follow thée How well I did assent Thy thrall aye for to bee Thy selfe can iudge to whom I doo appeale By sentence lo to yeeld mee wo or weale But if thou mée forsake As Cressid that forgot True Troylus her make And that thy hart is whot On him whom shame did force thée once his fayth to flie I see no hope but that hee must yéeld forth himself to die And though thou thinke that I Am loth theâ— too forgoe Yet shall I rather die Then liue and please my foe But hindre him in loue all others doth refrayne Whose treasoÌ„ once did mée purchace thy due disdain FINIS ¶ A worthy comparison of Vertue agaynst all worldly pompe WHen that I way with wit and eke consider now The tickle stay of her that Fortunes whéele doth bow And turne euen at her will such luck loe as shee list No thread so surely spâ—nne but that shee may vntwist I can but aye lament and wayle the lacke of them That in her holde doo trust weighing they are but men For if I were a Lorde and come of high degree And had all thing at
and could not flée Though ment in prayse yet far amis I take it written bée Shée is none such as if shée would that any would disdayne But for the smartes of others gréefes of pitty shee did playne As one most lothe of any lyfe for loue of her bee loste Or that with blud or cruell deedes men write her beauties boste For mercy is in M her brest and modest is her life A courtuous mayd and like to prooue a constant worthy wife FINIS ¶ The Louer deceyued by his Ladyes vnconstancy writeth vnto her as foloweth THe heat is past that did mee fret The fier is out that nature wrought The plantes of youth that I did set Are dry and dead within my thought The Frost hath slayne the kindly sap That kept the hart in liuely state The sodayne storme and thunder clap Hath turned loue to mortall hate The myst is gon that bleard mine eyes The lowring cloudes I see appeare Though that the blinde eate many flyes I would you knew my sight is cleare Your sweete deceyuing flattryng face Did make mee thinke that you were white I muse how you had such a grace To séeme a Hauke and bée a kyte Where precious ware is to be solde They shall it haue that giueth most All things wée see are woon with Golde Few things is had where is no cost And so it fareth now by mée Because I preace to giue no gyftes Shee takes my sute vnthankfully And driues mée of with many dryftes Is this th' end of all my sute For my good will to haue a skorne Is this of all my paynes the frute To haue the chafte in steade of corne Let them that lyst posses such drosse For I deserue a better gayne Yet had I rather leaue with losse Then serue and sue and all in vayne FINIS ¶ A true description of Loue. ASke what loue is it is a passion Begun with rest and pampred vp in play Planted on sight and nourished day by day With talke at large for hope to graze vpon It is a short ioy long sought and soone gon An endles maze wherin our willes doo stray A gylefull gaine repentance is the pay A great fier bred of small occasion A plague to make our fraylty to vs knowen Where wée therby are subiecte to their lay Whose fraylty ought to leaue vntill our stay In case our selues this custome had not knowen Of hope and health such creatures for to pray Whose glory resteth chéefly on denaye FINIS ¶ The Louer to his beloued by the name of fayre and false O Cruell hart with falsehood infecte of force I must complayne Whose poyson hid I may detect as cause doth mée constrayn Thy name I shryne within my brest thy déedes though I doo tell No minde of malice I protest thy selfe doth know it well If thy deserts then bids mée write I cannot well reuoke it I shall not spare to shew thy spite I will no longer cloake it As Troylus truth shall bée my shéeld to kepe my pen from blame So Cressids crafte shall kepe the féeld for to resound thy shame Vlisses wife shall mate the sore whose wishly troth doth shine Well Fayre and False I can no more thou art of Helens lyne And daughter to Diana eke with pale and deadly cheare Whose often chaunge I may well like two moonthes within the yeare FINIS ¶ The Louer describeth his paynfull plight and requireth speedy redresse or present death THe slaue of seruile sort that borne is bond by kinde Doth not remayne in hope with such vnquiet minde Ne tossed crasid Ship with yrksome surging seas So gréedely the quiet Port doth thirst to ride at ease As I thy short returne with wishing vowes require In hope that of my hatefull harmes the date will then expire But time with stealing steps and driery dayes doth driue And thou remaynst then bound to come if that thou bée aliue O cruell Tygars whelpe who had thy hand in holde When y with flattering pen thou wrotst thy help at hand behold Beleeue it to bee true I come without delay A foole and silly simple soule yet doost thou still betray Whose mooueles loue and trust doth reason far surmount Whom Cupids trumpe to fatall death hath sommond to accompt My fayth and former life fed with such frendly fier Haue not of thee by iust reward deserued such falts hyer I promisse thee not mine but thy case I bewayle What infamy may greater bee then of thy fayth to fayle How ofte with humble sute haue I besought the sonne That hee would spur his Coursers fearce their race more swifte to ronne To th' end with quicker speed might come the promised day The day which I with louing lookes and weary will did pray But thou art sure disposde to glory in my death Wherfore to feede thy fancy fond loe here I ende my breath I can not sighe nor sob away by playnt I pine I see my fatall fainting file ye Sisters doo vntwine The Feriman I finde prest at the Riuer side To take mee in his restles Boate therin with him to ride And yet although I sterue through thy dispitous fault Yet craue I not in my reuenge that harme should thee assault But rather that thy fame eternally may shine And that eche to thine auayle aboundantly encline That eche thine enterprise hath luckye lot and chaunce And stable fortune thine estate from day to day aduaunce That Sun that Moone that starres and eke the plannets all The fier the water and the earth may fréendly to thée fal That many quiet yeres thou number may with rest Uoyd of all annoyes and gréeues as may content thee best And if that foraine loue torment and vexe thy harte God yeeld thy weary wanting wish and swagement of thy smart With froward flearing face at mee if Fortune frowne Thou doost reioyce and I not so but ioy thy good renowne And if I thée offend for that I doo thée loue Forgiue it mée for force it is I can it not remoue For I in secret sort these lines to thée did I write My weakned wearied hand hensforth shall sease for to endyte That letters to receiue from mée thou néede not muse The messenger that next of all of mée shal bring the newes Dissolued from the corps shal be my dolefull spright That first vnsheaâ—hd shal passe to thée when hée hath vewd thy sight Contented hee shall go vnto the heauens aboue In case that ioyed rested place may gayne it any loue And now for that my death thy name may spot and stayne If that the flying fame therof to others eares attayne I will not it were red or knowen by other wayes That thou art only cause I thus in ruthe doo ende my dayes Wherfore this Letter red condemne it to the flame And if thou doo thy honnor forse I know thou wilt thesame And if in lingring time vnwares they chaunce to come Wherin the entrayles of the earth shall hap to bee my tombe