theare a comelie course did fet Whearin by chaunce a wourthie wight did salue her in that place Their ioye and iesture both wear suche non had the better grace A man he was in age but yonge of state both bigge and tall A face he had effemynate scant any bearde at all In whome thear wanted not the thing that kinde colde shape or giue Faire Absolon colde neuer die so longe as he did lyue And Nature gaue to hym a grace so sobre and so trymme As who so did delight a man must nedes delight in him A worlde it is to see howe farre some other some excell Scant Tullyes stile not my rude pen the dyfference can tell But groase shal be my Simile since eloquence I lacke He passed more the comon sorte Then white excelleth blacke Yet as they met they parted tho their gestures saide fare well Their faces shewed their fancyes pleasde no wourde betwene them fell The maide kept on her stealing steps so did her mates eche one The yong man fet a soking sigh his hart was almost gon Alas what hap haue I saied he what meanes this suddeyn stroke Oh Cupide nowe thie dreadfull Darte my craised corps hath broke His ruddie chekes were chaunged pale he plucte his bonnet lowe He mused moche that he sholde loue the wight he did not knowe Nor whear she dwelt nor whence she came nor any of her kynde Nor yet what way her course she bent nor whear her home to fynde Oh cruell boy that thus sholdst strike and bringe hym into thrall That was not yet an houre agoe the freest man of all He semed nowe to wring his handes that carst did feele no greefe And homewarde gat with quaking steps deuoyded of releefe Then Phebus gan shut vp his beames then darkenes made it night Then pleasures none at all were seen but by the candell light And then this faire and famous dame thought tyme to go to bedde Wheare flowing fancyes followed her renewing in her hedde What wight he was that sholde salute her in this comely wise She beat her brayne and of that man she laie and did deuise And viewing in her waking hed his gesture and his face His comely shape did brewse her brest and fancy founde hym grace What wantes in hym quod she that I this present daie haue seen Are not his vertues wonderous his yeares freshe and grene Right happie weare the dame in deade that might obteyne the grace In wedded bed and folded armes thie bodie to embrace With that she sought to set a side soch phansies and to slepe But Venus sparkes which growe full great gan towardes her harte to crepe And Cupide caught his Bowe in hande and drewe the strynge so farre As losed ones the shafte and hedde against her harte did Iarre Then loking vp she sawe that none was in her chamber bye She felt what stroke she had receiued no slepe colde toche her Eye Then came she vnto Venus thrall and thus beganne to praye Most mightie goddes of them all geue eare what I shall saie I am become thie seruaunt that before did neuer loue Soch feruent force thie sonn hath vsde on me his power to proue What conquest shall he get by this though I through sorrowe die No praise at al thus on a wretch his force and power to trie But if thou wilt cause this thie sonn againe his bowe to bende And from the same with equall force an other arrowe send Into his hart within whose breste my harte doth rest and shall Then will I saie thou arte a Iudge and iustest Iudge of all So liuing shall I hym attayne Or ells we both shall dye Or at the least he shall not laugh when care both cause me crie Thus laie she waking all the night He spendes his tyme in teares They both are stroken with one Darte the one the other feares He doubtes of her She feareth hym See here of loue the fource Yet want of knowledge sunders them they can haue no recourse The wearie night weares thus awaie Aurora shewes her light He leaues his bedde he walkes abroade of her to haue a sight No gate he sees but he lokes in no windowe wantes his Eye No Lane no Streat no Place at all whearin he doth not prie And walking thus from morne to night and foodeles coming soo Retournes into his restles bedde repleate with care and woo The ladie as her loue doth mourne soo likewies mourneth shee Her stomake fades her flesh doth fall she is as sicke as hee The mother markes the daughters plight with sorrowe of her mynde And of the sicknes of the childe she seekes the cause to fynde But secreat couert loue alas Soo perceth flesh and fell As death might breake her hart but she those secreates wolde not tell Her mother who had ones been yonge and felt of Cupides sting Did feede her childe wih tender wourdes and poysing euery thing Myne owne quod shee discloase thine harte and roote of this thie greefe To hidden sores the sikmans talke must bring the first releefe To wourke on the by medecins Arte before thie case be knowen Thie death my bayne thie fathers fall to gether sholde be sowen Thou arte my childe and from my lyfe Thie life did first proceade Oh seeke not then by silence thus To shred my fatall threade Faire childe and then she kist her mouth Her teares did moyst the grounde Disclose thie greefe least lacke of talke Thie mothers Ioyes confounde Whie wepest thou oh whie dost thou weepe redobling thus my woo The mayde lookt vp but could not speake a traunce did take her soo The dolfull dame calles fourth the Nurse who first did weane the childe And stryuing bothe the lothsome lyfe the sence againe doth yelde And then with heauy hart and teares she leaues her daughter soo And with right wofull waylyng sobbes vnto her spouse doth goe Oh Syr quod she so long as we haue lyud together heare So iust a cause did not compell my griefe and griping cheare Our daughter man our onely ioye and Iuell of our age With sicknes is full sore opprest eche parte of her doth rage And mortally I feare and doubte she stroken is with death So pale so wanne her visage is so shorte she draweth her breath The Father who did tender her a man both sage and wise saide to his wief then for her helth some meane we must deuise And not this rage as you beginne it tokeneth lytle wit And to our state and horye heares a thing right farre vnfit Goe to her yet with good aduice and geue her tyme to pawse Marke when her paine doth greue her least then learne therof the cause The Mother who already had endeuored with her might As you haue hearde of this her greefe to knowe the cause aright To god agayne was halfe dismaide it greued moch her mynde But yet to pleas her husbande with an errande she did fynde And coming to the chambre wheare her daughter sicke did
doth meane my witlesse wordes why do we lingring stand He wilde the Doctour walke with him and lead him by the hand Into a chamber princely decte yet wonderous close and tight So as the watchers had theire willes to haue it darke or light There laye the heauy penciue childe there sat the mother sadde There wanted naught by money might or frindship els be hadde And when the mother knewe by Nursh and by her tatling talke That he the learned Doctour was which with her spouse did walke She rose and leaft her wery stoole and did salute him then with suche a welcome as was mete to welcome frendly men Who coulde eftsones with equall grace salute the dame againe And also search to shewe the Sire the daughters griefe and paine Her beating poulsies he gan feele her temples and her feete And other such demonstratiues as apt he thought or meete And saide vnto the heuye mayde Good hart thou art opprest with painfull pangues and freting fits which god torne to the best Then to the parents both at once the Doctour gan to saye Though I be bolde yet beare with me I pray you goe your waye And let me talke a little while with this your childe alone Who will perchaunce the franker speake yf that you both were gone They went and he retourned backe to the diseased childe And toke her by the hand againe with countnaunce very mylde And saide to her swere hart I see your to muche troubled braine will not permit your tongue to talk without excessiue paine Therefore apply your eare to me which am your faithfull frende though yet vnknowen the truth shall trie my trauaile in the ende And if you list that I shall saye the secretes that I see some token that you are content vouch safe to shewe to me With that she lickt her parched lips and faintly did she saye Good sir speake on your mynd to me I knowe no cause of staye Well then quod he I aske no more but that you heare me talke And blame me when disorderly my tongue or woorde shal walke Heare doth the subtell Doctour nowe tell fourth the sickmans tale And finding both their states alike thinkes therby to preuaile Not yet quod he two daies agoe this iollye auncient mate Appointing to the aged Nursh did bring to me your state Whereon my conning earnestly and learning I did proue I must be plaine your state did shewe your greefe did grow by loue Then towardes the cares continuance I did adiecte my mynde And that it was night three monethes old my certeine rule dyd fynde And searching by that argument the plannet and the daye I fourthwith founde good Lady myne that in the midst of maye By walke or talke or otherwise you sought your most delight And therin lost your libertie by twinke or sodeine sight Now if my rule be certaine still as it was wont be sure Confesse to me and doubt you not I shall your paines recure This hearde did set the sences soe within the virgin odde As els she thought it was a dreame els thought she him a god Whose perfect persing eye and skill so coulde detect her wounde And therwithall twixt ioy and care she fell into a sounde But he whose praised skill god wot exteamd it of no weighte Did almost vse no force at all yet did releue her straight And then with fixed eye and face with colour pale and wanne With shaking flesh and quaking ioynts her tale she thus beganne Take from my castles mouth saith shee which is thrise double furde By meanes that not this sennightes space no talke my tongue hath sturde This feeble folish aunswere that from such a place shall fail Full rightlye haue you tolde the truth my cause my care and all And you that can by skill fynde out so secrete hidden griefe My thinkes againe your praised skill may fynde out my reliefe Well saith the doctour since you haue to me discloasde your harte Conceiue in me no doubt at all for I will do my parte And this muche by my knowlege I dare to you heare auowe That euery griefe which you haue felt shal torne to pleasure nowe For Fortune hath bene much your frende The constellacions tell And he on whome you set your loue Loues you againe aswell A man he is of noble bloode and hath eche lygnament Of nature and in fauour standes of euery Ellyment His Father dead he is his heire and Fortunes darling to You blame your chaunce and what can more good Fortune for you doe And if you will I will discloase this to your parents sight and you shall see your dearling to this instant present night Would god quod she right chierfully that these your woordes were true Then of my long and pinching paine at all I doe not rue The Doctour called then the Nursh in sober wise and mylde And willes her pray the parents both come nowe and see theire childe She ronneth straight they come in haste no let doth cause them slaye And fourthwith in the childes be halfe the Doctour gins to saye Good Sir in all extremities the cause must first be knowen And then with lesser care and toyle the grefe is ouerthrowne When I came first you said to me one onlye childe you had Whose languishing extremitie did make your hartfull sad You wild me know and if I coulde the cause of her disease you wilde me vse my skilfulnes her piersing paine to ease Thus haue I done and this I aske of you as of my frende To heare my tale and graunt good will your daughters paine to ende There is within this myle and lesse an heire that you do know Of noble blood and worthy state his name I nede not shewe Whose parents of continuance haue louede your parents long And you must loue the man againe or els you doe him wrong He loues your daughter passing wel and she loues him againe And both they are extremely sicke and loue doth cause the paine Your daughter you haue wel brought vp at home she learnt to wurke As fits a maide but trauaile hath shewed him both Iewe and Turke His soo dispended youthful daies did cause Obliuion black By distaunce of the place and time theire memories to racke And pul the face of tone of them so farre from tothers sight As childish knowledge twixt them twaine was so deuoyded quight yet was it equall chaunce to both at once to mete in fielde Where Cupides stroke vnknowne to them causde tone to other yelde Which done they both do get them home in this theire ouerthrowe They loue alas and yet theire loue doth neither of them knowe This hath bene griefe to both theire hartes hereby they haue beene tried Hereby theire frindships and good willes both plaine and true is spied Hereon doth hang the helthfull state and dolour of the mayde hereon as on a procke or crutch the sickemans lyfe is stayde Which hard and when the parents sawe wherto they both were bent
that it had seen Whie not amonges the Caniballes were spent my yeares fresh Who in my sicknes wolde haue kilde me and haue eat my flesh Or elles amonges the tyrant Turkes I had been captiue caught And then that dolour and that greefe had now my quyet wraught The poets fayne in heuie hell sometyme is quiet rest But I in earth from tyme to tyme am more and more opprest Whie Venus arte thou cruell blynde or seeing wilt not see Or first thou stil and laughest at the wrong thou dost to me Or doth thie cruell sonn and thou together both conclude In hating yonge mens quyet state their sences to delude What staye quod the Phisition what meanes your frantique braine What booteth this vndecent talke What easeth it your payne So long haue I geuen eare to you as doutfull was my minde Wheare you of humane nature weare or elles of brewtysh kynde Is ther no god at all thinke you howe do you banne and curse Or do you think in hym is not tamende or make you wourse But if you cannot pacifie your rigour and your thrall Doo seeke some other frendes aduice come not to me at all I ioye to see your helthfull blisse I greue to see your payne And shortlie hope recouerie shall yet retourne againe Yf you canne take this quyetlie till God do sende you rest He tourneth alwaies comonly the hardest to the best And where you iudge that in the world none hath so harde a hap What is thear anny alwaies may sit in good Fortunes lap No happie is that man and blest at last that maye aspire And after many trobled daies obteyne his hartes desire Your tendre yeares cannot gesse how farre it is vnmeate For witles youthe before the soure to feele or tast the sweate What Iuell doth a man esteame that he doth lightlye get Somoche as that by endles cost and trauayle he doth set Or what is that which easelie comes to a man alone But that againe as soddenly doth pas away anone Marke well and waie within your hed that harde obteyned grace Foreuer cleaueth to a man to death will geue no place Howe moch then are you bounde to God that wourketh for the nones That all your cares together come to ende your greues at ones Content your carefull harte awhile within a moneth and lesse On my reprofe I warrant you Your cares shall tourne to blesse And he shall graunt you your desire so that you sarue hym well And all the grefes that gripe you nowe will vtterlie expell The louers plantes were watered in ioye of this deuice He yelded hym both hand and harte vnto his frendes aduice Reiecting of his follie cleane and womanly complaint And hoping after good successe which long had had restraynt Thus talke which makes the tyme seme short doth driue the tyme awaie The Starres begynnes to hide themselfes it waxeth parfect daie The Doctour shakes of sluggish slepe and geues himselfe to rise And willes the yongeman laie him downe and followe his aduise A quiet slepe perchaunce may catch your tomoch trobled hedde Vnrestfull men sometyme take rest in vnacqueynted bedde To bed he goeth warme couered and falleth straight a slepe The Doctour leaues the sleping soull vnto the lorde to kepe Perchaunce the hope of blosfull ioyes which hee did trust sholde come Did cause so swete and soddeyne slepe through all his powres to ronne Perchaunce it was the soddeyne ioye that warmde his hart and brest And other partes that weare halfe deade and brought them so to rest Perchaunce the newe vnwonted ioye that nowe was in his brayne Did cause this sounde and restfull slepe through want of wonted payne But likest is that nature wolde to shewe her power geue rest To hym that not in thre monethes space did slepe in quiet nest I leaue the cause to learned men that thearin haue more skill And to the matter I beganne I must retourne and will The Doctour leaues the sick a slepe and glad he is thearfore He stealeth from his chambre and he standeth at his dore Wheare scantly he had taried the eight parte of an howre But aged Nursh he spied from farre come from her maisters bowre Which thing he wolde not seeme to see he lookt an other waye Till Nursh with curtesies two or thre gan to the Doctour saie Your good aduice good gentle sir that you to me did tell My master and my ladie bothe through me perceiue it well And wish that they had longe ago sought out your dwelling place Your counsell and your learned help to ease the wofull race That she these thre monethes space hath roon of whome you sawe the state But nowe good folke they deme with teares your conning comes to late And I haue cause to sobbe and wale asmoch as anny shee Because her neuer parting paine my weping eyes do see This night alas this wicked night I thought her hart wolde breake For sounding sighes and soking sobbes nolde suffre her to speake But lie and wepe whose tendre teares haue soo embrend her chekes As Hellins husbandes neuer was the dolefulst of the Grekes Now scarcelie canne she drawe her wynde and by and by she cries As though she ment thearbie to perce the high and hugie Skies The racking of her sprites thearwith doth seeme to rent her hart And I pooer soule aye me alas looke when she sholde departe But this causde not my cumming nowe my maister doth requyre And that you wolde come see the sike with harte he doth desire Good nursh your maister may commaunde I yeld me to his will He shut his dore and with the Nursh he goeth to proue his skill The Nurshe doth bring him to the house she telles her maister strayght and fourth he comes and welcomes him for whome he long did waight With sober wourdes and comely chere tone greetes the other then Theire meting was not woman lyke they met like sober men The fathers fained cheere not straight shewed fourth his inwarde griefe Nor by and by bewailde his childe his wordes were not so reefe But thus beganne his wittie talke now sixtene winters past accompting from the tenth of March which was amongest vs last My dame gaue vp and tooke her leaue of yong wifes wisshed sute And brought me out a daughter as the ende of all her frute In whome I ioyed very much I had no wenche before But for her grace and vertues sake I ioyed muche the more Yet sonnes I had that myght haue proeud good men a foure or fyue Death tooke them all I was content that she was left alyue In whome I ioyde for vertues sake and parents duetye to As natures will becomes a lawe and forceth men to doe Nowe do you see that god hath wilde such fate on me to fall She is become my sonne myne heire myne onely childe and all And sike she is and very sicke the lorde him selfe doth know Your counsell and your helpe I craue your conning eke to shewe But what
aright The noble man the louer true is tost vppon the seas Now at the will of Eolus and then as Neptune please At last with wery course and paine this weather beaten Barke doth of the hauen desiered so espie a certaine marke Nowe mates the maister cries a pace good newes to euery man Haw Iack thou scuruy lowsy boye go tap and fill the can Be mery maisters drink a pace now make we all good sporte our voyage almost ended is I see the wyshed porte Wherein by force we meane to land as we haue done the like by helpe of god and by the force of bended bowe and pyke Then ioye ech man within the ship theire sport is for a king and hey how ioly rombelowe the saylers all do sing Here might you see what solgers seeke and howe they tosse and toyle on sea a shore and euery where to come to saque and spoyle But he alas alone good man whose mynde doth bring to sight his mylde and trewe companyon his comfort and delight In secrete place doth stay a while and wypes his flowing eye Till often wiping of the same doth all the moyster drie Then secretlie he sendeth fourth a grone vnto the skies Which from his faythfull harte fourthwith vnto his ladies flies And then he sheweth hym selfe abroad right pewsaunt on the deck And saith vnto his solgers all obedyent at a beck My mates my frendes my brethern deare my fellowes all in fielde Next God my prince and wyfe you are to whome my hart I yelde Yen is the place you see it well Whear we must proue by stryfe Howe most toppresse our enemye how least to harme our life I am your owne assuredlie both hed both hart and hand I craue of you but willing hartes by me at nede to stande Which if I fynde I swere to you that none of you shall lake Whiles I haue lande or liuelihod or clothing to my bak These wourdes ones past they swere to hym yf he had cause to trie He sholde perceiue not one but all wyth hym wolde lyue and die Glad was the captaine of soch men glad was the solgers eke The hauen to entre in best wies they all a meanes do seeke The ennemy doth shewe his face lyke to the forrest boare the cannon and the culuer shot about their eares do roare The skirmish enters very hot yet doth the barke preuaile and in they goe not losing ought but tearing of theire sayle Wherwith they are in quietnes the entring brunt is past and they into their wished porte are now arryued at last The mariners that babred sore with strained voices cries Saint George Saint George to borough and they so do pearse the skies The enemies perceiue therwith theire purpose they had lost They fynde that scantly will theire gaine beare halfe theire toyle and cost and then they leaue theire rigour since they can no more preuaile and do forthink the tyme they spent which came to none auayle Well night groes on a pace and they that can find out their nest Forgetting toyle with mery mynds do geue them selues to rest The worthy captaine yet thinks on his faire and famous wife Whiche is his goddes and to him much sweter then his lyfe Now takes he paper in his hande to wright that he doth thinke Which reddy is and pen also but hath no whit of ynke Then with a quill he maketh him a Launcet very fyne and with a phillip pricks his thombe the point is made so kine wherout doth spring the bloddy drops so fast as he can wright and serues his fyled penne to print that coulde his hed indight Theffect wherof ensueth heare my wits I will assaye His princely proase in this rude verse to tell you as I may Myne owne to you your owne doth heare his hasty letters sende Least scilence should accuse his troth and so he might offende Of paper had I store ynoughe my pens did eke abounde But to expresse my state to you no drop of ynke was founde But that coulde not my faith a whit nor promise from you staye For I to shewe my dewty did fynde out a nother waye And cause I knewe my letters woulde prouoke you some delight See here my shift which onely was with blode the same to wright I left your sonnye sight with teares and Neptunes realme possest where till we came to happy hauen we felt but little rest And when we sawe the porte or place wherein discharge we must In despight of the ennemye therein our barke we thrust And though by force of fighting foes and turmoyle we were tost The lord be praisd we gat the hauen and yet no man we lost And other newes haue I not now but that I woulde heare tell That you my loue be still in helth then must I nedes do well wherein I pray you satisfye my hungry mynde and hart and letters still for letters shall my writting hand reuart Farewell my harte fare well my life fare well myne onely make Though rude my letters be yet do accept them for my sake Commend me to your parents both commend me to your frindes Comend me to your selfe againe and thus my letter endes This letter to a messenger he did deliuer streight That did conuey the same to her he made it of such weight Which when she sawe the bobbling blood wrapt warme within her brest Her teeth did cut the string in twaine she could not be in rest Vntill she saw theffect and did the letters ouer reade Then was her mynde wel quyeted then was she glad in dead Then to her mother stept she vp with wild and staring looke For ioy she coulde not speake a worde but tooke to her the booke At last lo heare quod she madame se what my loue doth wright to me to you and to my Sire that graue and aunshent knight It gladdeth me I promise you more then my tongue can tell Nowe mother be we mery all my husband is so well For now my ioyes are permanent my cares are voyded quyt Oh happy hande and honest harte that canst such letters write Alas alas yet saide she then these letters do not showe where he be slaine since he them writ how might I doe to know Then spake the witty mother thus and aunswerd her againe I think no comfort comes to the but doth renew thy payne What dotest thou oh foolish girle or art thou worse then mad Doth euery thing discomfort thee that ought to make the glad Thy husband is in perfect helth his letters so doth showe These phancies then before to late seeke from your mynde to throwe and wright to him right cherefully let him not see you sadde This shall in trouble comfort him and this shal make you gladde What take to you your penne and ynke and satisfye his mynde He wrytt to you his letters first let him your aunswer fynde The daughter therwith did relent her former foolish parte And writ to him to this effect euen from
he sees that all is well Harke saith the mother whose at gate doth no man hear the bell The aged Nursh that standes in hope the wyshed gestes were come Steps out before the rest a pace and to the gate doth roonne Whear when the sees the Doctour and with him so trym a wight Right comely she salutes them both most ioyful of that sight The maister was enquired for within he was she saide That they might speake with him forthwith the learned Doctour praide Gon is the Nursh and telles the sire and dame what gestes were theare I came straight way the father saith desire them come neare Now standes the yonge man amarous in hope of his releefe Though doutfull passhones of the mynde doth shiuer yet his teeth Downe comes the courtly gentleman and frendlie doth embrace The Doctour and the woer to and staieth soo a space To whome the Doctour thus brake fourth the frendship and good cheare Which of your wourship I receiued the last tyme I was heare Doth cause that I and this my frende though to your cost and payne Do fynde the meanes I warraunt you to visit you agayne Good cheare alas why saye you soo you slaunder me ywis But welcome are you both to me to soch chear as it is Oh that the muses which do dwell on Hellicon the hill Or learned Pallas wolde step fourth to aide my froward will Or that the learned sisters thre which pas all other men Wolde take vppon them but a while to guyde and rule my penne Then sholde you heare howe pleasauntlie in shorte and sugred verse The passing ioyes of these two folke my conning cold rehearse Howe to the mother aged Nursh dothe geue the man a prayse Aboue the rest which with her eies she sawe in all her daies Howe that the mother ere she sawe the man or ought was doon In token of her inwarde Ioye did name hym for her soon How that the sillie virgyn coulde no lengre tyme abyde But with her knife did piers a hole whear through her loue the spied And then how many sundrie ioyes replenysshed her hart And eke the yongemans blesfull state before I wolde depart But sins that in so surging Seas I dare not hoyse my sale I must in baser sorte god wot tell fourth a rudes mans tale Your welcome saide the gentleman moch better is to me Then golde or elles without the same the greatest cheare sholde be Thus curteous wourdes were spent apace emonges this frendlie men and from the hall the father wilde them to the parlour then Whear was the aged gentlewoman whear sat her daughter to Whear one embrast the other as the maner is to doo Whear as the father with the Nursh of purposes gan to talke And towardes the aged mother doth the Doctour gin to walke The gentleman saide merelye sins hear are wemen thre And two alreadie are in talke the third is left for me And towardes her makes a stately course her tendre lyps he kist Her fingers that wear fayre and longe encloasing in his fist In secreat sort he vttered then his longe vnquiet rest To her who axt colde not denye but that she loued hym best Oh happie man that hast found out the meane to quenche thine Ire And happy dame that Fortune hath enricht with thy desire Who now may ioy but you alone who is so iustly glad as you that haue your hartes desire whose frendes good will is had The Nursh about her busines goes the father walkes aside But still the yonger couple do in talke together byde Theire talke and tales doth pleas them both loath are they to depart And chaunging collours therwithall bewraies the ioyfull harte It groweth fast towardes supper tyme the mother eke doth praye The Doctour and the woer to that they would come awaye Vnhappy harmefull voyce thinkes he it is that doth depart Two bodyes so ycopled that they both haue but one harte He thankes her yet for manners sake and yeldes him to her will That would haue solde his supper fayne in talke to tarry still The father and the mother both the woer and the maide The Doctour and a frend or two at supper heare are staide And first with some solempnitie the woer he is fet And other Gestes in order due the father he doth set Here doth he playe the Husshers parte and can the office quyte His wife he plaste at vpper ende and set his daughter right against the man in whome good wenche he knewe she ioyed much And he asmuche in her againe theire linked loue was suche No question nede demaunded be of diet and of meate There wanted nought that might be wisht but stomakes for to eate The parentes stomakes ioy had filde to see theire daughter glad And ioy againe as ioynouslye the louers filled had The rest did feede right merely and then beganne to talke as common is at euery feast where Bacchus wares do walke The father to the Doctour drank the mother to the geast that reason taught by perfect skill did loue her daughter best With all her hart I saye she dranke to him in cup of golde Who pledgde the dame and to the childe to drink he was as bolde Thus mery weare they euery one Right gladde and well apaide And she I thinke most gladde of all that almost nothing saide Whose ioyfull kinde and louing harte her pashons coulde not hide But that which might not from the mouthe from harte and eye did slyde Now lookt she vp full chierefully and then within a while Her collour chaungde from white to red and then againe did smyle on him to whome by happy chaunce she thought her holely bounde By whome againe her secrete thoughtes with spedy slight were founde Wherewith the father did breake out in decent sober sorte and that they all woulde heare his tale he did his gests exhorte They all attentiuely gaue eare theire tongues and talke were still Applying them with might and mayne to here the fathers will Who now his secretes doth detect in plainest sort he can and looking on his daughter thus his sober talke beganne This mayden whiche you know right well myne only daughter deare Hath choase this gentle gentle man vnto her onely feare And he againe I know not howe doth in my daughters sight conceiue his chiefe felicitie his comfort and delight Of tender yeares is the man my chielde is young also And youth by aunshent sawe is saide to reason is a foo Of worthy parentage he is of noble blood by birth His parents frendes to myne alwaies approued to the death His maners and behauiour are comely as you see His presence and his parsonage delightfull vnto me Endewed with possessions enricht with land and fee Not wanting ought that comelye is in such an one to bee My childish daughter is not ritche well qualited nor feire Nor els wherin such one should ioye but that she is myne heyre And I an aged thriftles man and like ynough to spend
happie tyme of late The thought whearof doth so moche more augment her heuie fate Not Father can nor Mother may appease the daughters greefe Nor frende canne comforte her distresse her sorowe was so reefe Hear gins she nowe to curse the man that she doth loue so well Vntrue she saith thou arte alas whie dost thou thus rebell Against the lawes of God by which tho didst auowe to me Foreuer not so short a space my constant spouse to be And wilt thou leaue thie ladie thus and wilt thou from me go And wilt thou nowe absent thie selfe and wilt thou leaue me so And canst thou nowe lie from the bedde that thou didst so desier And canst thou wourke my wo this wise and proue thie selfe a lyer And darst thou false thie fixed faithe and thine affied trust And darst thou nowe thou hast obteynd thus proue thie selfe vniust In faith I thought the Sea sholde first by waters want be drie And that the soon sholde eke forswere the hie and hugie skie Or that an other Phaeton sholde serue in Phoebus torn And that the fyery footed horse both sea and shore sholde bourne Before thou woldst without a cause with me thie wyfe be wroth Or cruelly haue lefte me so and so haue broke thie troth In fayth sins that it is in deade and I to true it trie I will no more beleue thie wourdes before the daie I die Nor shall thie fawning letters help thie treason to excuse wherof thie present absence dothe thie loialtie accuse Well well thou shewest now thie kinde thy doinges do declare that onely men in woing tyme do flatter and speake fayre Thus in her great extremytie ech Ioynct in her did shake And faynctnes made her staie a while and then agayne she spake What am I warth and cruell wretch or brutish beast by kinde Thus with my true and constant loue soch raging faltes to fynde Who for hym selfe or his defence in absens cannot speake Whie dost thou then oh wilfull wench thie radge and angre breake On hym that is thie husband and thie loue and onely fyre Allotted by the lyuing lorde euen to thie hartes desire Was he not prest by princes power full loth he was to go Oh cruell carle howe canst thou then in absence blame hym so Did not his sobbes his sightes his teares that trickled downe his eye His wayling voyce his gryping greefe his doulfull noyse and crie Which did against his will break forth when he did hence depart Expresse vnto the oh thou beast his true and constant hart Coldst thou at any tyme at all conceiue with in thie mynde But all soch greefes as gripte thie hart lyke place in his did fynde Vniust thou arte oh folish girle vnfaithfull and vntrue Vnwourthie arte thou of the man Now giue thy hart to rewe That thus didst sclaunder thie true loue so sore without a cause How canst thou craue the aide of loue a rebell to her lawes Ah cruell wretch that shewst thie selfe vnwourthie breth or lyfe Wold God thou hadst the murderer or elles the cruell knife That well might heare reuenge by right thie louer and his truthe And for thie skilles sclaunder sake might bring thie selfe to ruthe Thus whiles the ladie languyshed his former talke and synne agaynst her lorde her mother doth to see her childe come in Whom she doth fynde so ruthfully with teares beweped so As whear she might retourne agayne or to her daughter go she standes in doubte her hart doth fayle the teares breake from her eyes she kepes in couert all her cares and to her daughter cries What daughter what doth meane this grefe what is it wourkes thie payne Is all thie pleasure so sone past is care krept back againe Alas shall neuer this myne age nor these my horie heares Nor these my mystie eyes beholde the but bewept with teares Good daughter guyde thie selfe awhile do not torment the soo Thie loue doth loue the passing well let folish fancies goo Who in the world hath God enricht with fortune or with fate Somoch as thou to whome is linkt a man of soch estate As neyther storme nor worldly woo no flame nor yet no thondre No sea no flud nor other let from the can kepe a sondre A lengre tyme then princes cause alone doth kepe hym back Yet nay the lesse his harte is thyne though thou his boddie lacke Then homewarde come with me myne owne reiect thy carefull mynde And as I pleasure in the moche some comforte in me fynde My soon thy spouse that faithfull man the fates will guyde by right Ere longe he will send vs good newes his hand begins to wright What cause hast thou to morne at all sins that thy lord is well His voiage past his chaunce is good soch will his letters tell Oh blame me not good mother saide to her her daughter deare If I the losse of soch a spouse so greatlie dread and feare For neither hath the Gretian dames nor Troyan ladies founde Nor yet the hungry earth her selfe nor yet the cloddie grounde Receiued so iust and true a man as I haue for my parte Whose truth alas so tried is as now doth rent my harte I syt alone my thinkes the seas are grown in such a rage By Eolus his whorling blastes whose rigour will not swage As he with sourgies heaued to heauen the ship doth straightway fall The wallowes then do hide the barke the water drowns them all Then straight I see hym in his arme howe stronglie he doth fight Heare hath he slaine a gentilman thear hath he kild a knight This crowne by hym ycracked is that boddie doth he parte Then coms a traytour at his backe and thrustes hym to the harte Shold not these thinges encrease my care Sholde not myne eyes that spie My husbande slaine before my face prouoke my harte to die Alas pooer wench the mother saide alas poore louer to Thie fancie willes but reason not comaundes the thus to do If euery thing thou canst conceiue in hed doth worke thee greefe Then thrise so many hedes againe can bring thee no releefe Come come come come come home with me come to thy fathers house Come glad thie mothers heauie harte Till tidinges of thie spouse Shall ioye agayne thie ioyles sprites and geue the quyet lyfe That coldst not yet this twelue moneths space auoyde inuented stryfe Nowe reason wourkes and nature to the daughter doth comaunde In this a thing so requysite tobey the dames demaunde They homewarde bende to fathers house the tyme they woulde begile Which princes cause and mortall warre do kepe hym on exile Naught wanteth heare that mirth may make the daughter hath her will But alwaies doth the husbandes want the daughters playnct fulfill So as no ioy nor ioyfull thing but doth augement her care And somoch more because she will her corsey not declare Whiles in this great perplexitie this yonge and tendre wight bewayles her husbandes absence thus as she may do
lie A thousande couert meanes she saught The roote therof to spie Her skilfull tonge with smiling talke saide to her daughter than See here thie mother howe she cares To help the what she can That thou arte sicke to trew it is the cause therof discloase Tell me thie grefe my darling deare some trust in me repose Or if the roote of this thie care from the doth hidden lie The manners of thy painefull pangues to me with spede discrie The daughter viewde the mothers face whiche cloase by her did stande She threwe her arme out of the bedde and tooke her by the hand Oh you from whence this corps of myne saide shee did take releefe No lengre will I hide from you the manner of my greefe Soch ardent heate doth bourne my harte as it is parching drie And floodes of fylthie frosen Ice enrowndes it by and bye Thus hot thus colde thus drie thus drownd I lie heare in mye bedde Loo hear you knowe my greefe and yet I nere the better spedde But howe I came by this disease the lorde not I doth knowe Content you then your daughters mouth no more to you can showe With that the virgin tournd her selfe she sighed very sore Her wourdes did falter in her mouth her tongue colde talke no more What heapes of greefe the mother felt in hearing this discourse Deame you that Parentes are by kynde with pytte and remourse And yf that she poore hart alas was drownde in sorrowe than Note that it was a mothers parte who thearfore blame her can But she full warelie did witholde her secret hidden greefe Her inwarde care she couered still she saught her childes releefe And spake thus to the aged Nursh my true approued frende In whome I haue affied most and will vntill myne ende My daughter and your darling deare of trust to you I leaue Of trust agayne with all my harte good nursh do her receaue Nursh thou arte olde and I am not yonge what thinkest thou herâ— disease What best is for her appitite what will her fancy please Madame quod she yf age and wit weare equall in my braine This your demaunde could I disclose and ease your daughters payne But age to much to litle wit in women olde we finde But since it pleaseth you to aske I will disclose my mynde I feare least that the sparkes of loue are kindled in her brest And then swete hart the lord doth know how sore she is opprest Then must be learnd somewaies with whome she so bewrapped is And warely must you graunt or not Take good aduice in this For if she be in Cupids thrall as you and I wot neare Then is she in her golden pryme Of age full sixtene yeare And hauing choase her selfe a mate and doubting your good will The dolefull doubte within her brest may sone your daughter spill Therefore a meane there must be founde by some that shee loues well That may prouoke by circumstaunce her all her mynde to tell Whiche thing by her once vttered and to your wisedome knowne Then of the herbes to euer her the seedes are surely sowen Good Lady blame not myne aduyse loue causeth me to speake and onely loue and your request makes me my mynde to breake And one precept if I may tearme my folish sentence soe Take from my mouth and marke it well before you from me goe If you do like the choise that shee vnto her selfe hath made To graunt it then you nede the lesse to doubt or be a fraide But if the matche be so vnmete as she may chaunce repent Yet may you not in rigrous sorte denye her your consent For as the fallyng drops of rayne which from the gutters gone In length of tyme and fallyng ofte doth pearse the marble stone That els by sodeine seas or floods ne myghty streames at furst By rigour nor by force at all woulde yelde it selfe to burst So wise men haue long tyme of loue the lyke oppinion helde That loue in time may be represt but will not be expelde Lo here you heare my fond aduice my small approued skill Accept it as a womans tale proceading of good will And as you leaue with me your child so I the same receiue And that nothing shall want in me I trust you shall perceiue I geue the thankes good gentle Nursh for this thy sounde aduise Therby I trust my daughters health my ioye and all shall rise And vnto your discrecion to know my daughters mynd I leaue the ordre and the waies some parfect meanes to fynde Heare with the mother goeth awaie the nursh sites by the childe The nursh is growen an oratrice her tongue is smothelie field The maide lokes vp the nursh it spies Oh swetehart saieth she than That God ones sende you quyet helth that helpeth euery man Comaund euen what you may deuise Your hed or harte to please What nursh quod she do holde your tongue your talke doth me disease Lesse wourdes to her that is so sike and moch more quiet rest Me thinkes your age sholde teache you wyt that for my state were best The nursh thus nypped to the brayne shee had no wourde to saie A sobving sigh the mayden fette and tournde her hed awaye Nowe all the while the mayden thus with pangues lase sore distrest Her loue that seconde Troylus was neare the lesse opprest But all effebled was his strengthe his mirth was growen to moue His flesh was fallen his iointes wear weake he could scant ryse alone Yet euerye daie in ordre dewe by starry light he roase And ceased not to seake his chaunce till night the daie did cloase Who first had seen soo faire a face and nowe seen hym againe Had been his harte more hard then flynt must yet bewayle his payne For they that loue do knowe elles none the heat of Cupids fire And loue can see and none but loue this dolfull mans desire Who for to ease his heauie harte his lewte wolde ofte assaye Yet ere his fyngers spast the freates the knewe not what to playe Then wolde he proue by wonted voyce some sollemne songe to sing The notes whearin he wont reioyce doth nowe but sorrowe bring Then from his quyuer wolde he take and saie to bende his Bowe Whearof the string he colde not stire his strength was brought so lowe Then of eche thing he had delight he called to his minde But all his ioyes did tourne to greefe no comforte colde he fynde For that which earst in other cares did moue him some delight In this his greatest greefe of all did wourke him most dispight Thus when he sawe that euery hap whearin he wont to ioye Was nowe conuerted to mishap and Fortune lookt acoye And that his life was nigh fordoon and had no helth at all He thought to proue by medesins arte what might to him befall And to his frende a man experte a Doctour in that arte He gat him then in secrete wies and thus discloasde his harte A