are done but to increase my smart And intertaine my loue with falsed wiles Yet being when she smiles surprisde with ioy I faine would languish in so sweet a paine Beseeching death my bodie to destroy lest on the sudden she should frowne againe When men doe wish for death fates haue no force But they when men would liue haue no remorce SONNET XLI THe prison I am in is thy faire face Wherein my libertie inchained lyes My thoughts the bolts that hold me in the place My foode the pleasing lookes of thy faire eyes Deepe is the prison where I lye inclosed Strong are the bolts that in this cell containes me Sharpe is the foode necessitie imposed When hunger makes me feed on that which paines me Yet doe I loue imbrace and follow fast That holds that keepes that discontents me most And list not breake vnlock or seeke to waste The place the bolts the foode though I be lost Better in prison euer to remaine Then being out to suffer greater paine SONNET XLII WHen neuer speaking silence proues a wonder When euer-flying fame at home remaineth When all-concealing night keepes darknes vnder When Men deuouring wrong true glorie gaineth When Soule-tormenting griefe agrees with ioy When Lucifer forerunnes the balefull night When Venus doth forsake her little boye When her vntoward boye obtaineth sight When Sysiphus doth cease to roule his stone When Othes shaketh off his heauie chaines When Beautie Queene of pleasure is alone When Loue and Vertue quiet peace disdaines When these shall be and I not be Then will Fidessa pittie me SONNET XLIII TEll me of loue sweete Loue who is thy fire Of if thou mortall or immortall be Some say thou art begotten by Desire Nourisht with hope and fed with fantasie Ingendred by a heauenly goddesse eye Lurking most sweetely in an Angels face Others that beautie thee doth deifie Oh Soueraigne beautie full of power and grace But I must be absurd all this denying Because the fayrest faire aliue nere knew thee Now Cupid comes thy godhead to the trying T' was she alone such is her power that slew me She shall be Loue and thou a foolish boye Whose vertue proues thy power but a toye SONNET XLIIII NO choice of change can euer change my minde Choiceles my choice the choicest choice aliue Wonder of women were she not vnkinde The pitiles of pitie to depriue Yet she the kindest creature of her kinde Accuseth me of selfe ingratitude And well she may sith by good proofe I finde My selfe had dide had she not helpfull stoode For when my sicknes had the vpper hand And death began to shew his awfull face She tooke great paines my paines for to withstand And easde my heart that was in heauie cace But cruell now she skorneth what it craueth Vnkind in kindnes murdering while she saueth SONNET XLV MIne eye bewrayes the secrets of my hart My heart vnfolds his griefe before her face Her face bewitching pleasure of my smart Daignes not one looke of mercie and of grace My guiltie eye of murder and of treason Friendly conspirator of my decay Dumbe eloquence the louers strongest reason Doth weepe it selfe for anger quite away And chooseth rather not to be then bee Disloyall by too-well discharging dutie And being out ioyes it no more can see The sugred charmes of all deceiuing beautie But for the other greedily doth eye it I pray you tell me what doe I get by it SONNET XLVIII MVrder oh murder I can crie no longer Murder oh murder is there none to ayde me Life feeble is in force death is much stronger Then let me dye that shame may not vpbrayd me Nothing is left me now but shame or death I feare she feareth not foule murthers guilt Nor doe I feare to loose a seruile breath I know my bloud was giuen to be spilt What is this life but maze of counties strayes The enemie of true felicitie Fitly compar'd to dreames to flowers to playes Oh life no life to me but miserie Of shame or death if thou must one Make choice of death and both are gone SONNET XLIX MY cruell fortunes clowded with a frowne Lurke in the bosome of eternall night My climing thoughts are basely haled downe My best deuices proue but after-sight Poore outcast of the worlds exiled roome I liue in wildernes of deepe lament No hope reseru'd me but a hopeles tombe When fruitles life and fruitfull woes are spent Shall Phoebus hinder little starres to shine Or loftie Cedar Mushrome leaue to growe Sure mightie men at little ones repine The rich is to the poore a common foe Fidessa seeing how the world doth goe Ioyneth with fortune in my ouerthrow SONNET L. WHen I the hookes of pleasure first deuowred Which vndigested threaten now to choke me Fortune on me her golden graces shewred Oh then delight did to delight prouoke me Delight false instrument of my decay Delighteth nothing that doth all things moue Made me first wander from the perfect way And fast intangled me in the snares of loue Then my vnhappie happines at first began Happie in that I lou'd the fayrest faire Vnhappily despisde a haples man Thus ioy did triumph triumph did despaire My conquest is which shall the conquest gaine Fidessa author both of ioy and paine SONNET LI. WOrke worke apace you blessed Sisters three In restles twining of my fatall threed Oh let your nimble hands at once agree To weaue it out and cut it off with speed Then shall my vexed and tormented ghost Haue quiet passage to the Elisian rest And sweetly ouer death and fortune boast In euerlasting triumphs with the blest But ah too well I know you haue conspired A lingring death for him that lotheth life As if with woes he neuer could be tyred For this you hide your all-diuiding knife One comfort yet the heauens haue assign'd me That I must dye and leaue my griefes behind me SONNET LII IT is some comfort to the wronged man The wronger of iniustice to vpbraide Iustly my selfe herein I comfort can And iustly call her an vngratefull maide Thus am I pleasde to rid my selfe of crime And stop the mouth of all-reporting fame Counting my greatest crosse the losse of time And all my priuat griefe her publique shame Ah but to speake a trueth hence are my cares And in this comfort all discomfort resteth My harmes I cause her scandale vnawares Thus loue procures the thing that loue detesteth For he that viewes the glasses of my smart Must needs report she hath a flintie hart SONNET LIII I Was a king of sweet content at least But now from out my kingdome banished I was chiefe guest at faire Dame pleasures feast But now I am for want of succour famished I was a Saint and heauen was my rest But now cast downe into the lowest hell Vile caytifes may not liue amongst the blest Nor blessed men mongst cursed caytifes dwell Thus am I made an exile of a king Thus choice of meates to want of
Fidessa more chaste then kinde By B. Griffin gent. AT LONDON Printed by the Widdow Orwin for Matthew Lownes 1596. TO THE MOST KINDE AND VERTVous gentleman M. VVilliam Essex of Lamebourne in the Countie of Barke Esquire SIr it may seeme strange that I should be thus far bold to make choyce of your selfe a patron of so slender a work especially being so little knowne vnto you as I am but howsoeuer I protest what is done proceedeth from the vnfained loue I beare vnto you your owne demerit your friendes hope the good reporte of all men All which are liuely-witnesses of your loue to the Muses your grace with fortune your fame with the worlde quickened in your birth increased in your trauailes and liuing after death Daigne sweete sir to pardon the matter iudge fauorably of the manner and accept both so shall I euer rest yours in all dewtifull affection Yours euer B. Griffin TO THE GENTLEMEN OF THE INNES OF COVRT CVrteous Gentlemen it may please you intertaine with patience this poore pamphlet vnworthy I confesse so worthy patronage if I presume I craue pardon if offend it is the first fruite of any my writings if dislike I can be but sory Sweete Gentlemen censure mildlie as protectors of a poore stranger iudge the best as incouragers of a young beginner So shall I make true report of your vndeserued fauours and you shall be your selues euer curteous In this hope if promise may goe for currant I willingly make the same vnto you of a Pastorall yet vnfinished that my purpose was to haue added for varietie sake to this little volume of Sonnets the next tearme you may expect it In the meane time I wholy relye on your gentle acceptance Yours euer B. Griffin Faultes escaped amend thus Sonnet 36. line 6. dele Be. Sonnet 50 l. 6. for Delighteth nothing reade Delight the nothing TO FIDESSA SONNET I. Fertur fortunam fortuna fauêere ferenti FIdessa faire long liue a happie maiden Blest from thy cradle by a worthie mother High-thoughted like to her with bountie laden Like pleasing grace affoording one and other Sweet modell of thy same renowned Sire Hold backe while thy euer-giuing hand And though these fine pend lines do nought require For that they scorne at base Reward to stand Yet craue they most for that they begge the least Dumbe is the message of my hidden griefe And store of speech by silence is increast Oh let me die or purchase some reliefe Bounteous Fidessa cannot be so cruell As for to make my heart her fancies fuell SONNET II. HOw can that piercing christall-painted eye That gaue the onset to my high-aspiring Yeelding each looke of mine a sweet replve Adding new courage to my hearts desiring How can it shut it selfe within her Arke And keepe her selfe and me both from the light Making vs walke in al-misguiding darke Aye to remaine in confines of the night How is it that so little roome containes it That guides the Orient as the world the Sunne Which once obscur'd most bitterly complaines it Because it knowes and rules what ere is done The reason is that they may dread her sight Who doth both giue and take away their light SONNET III. VEnus and yong Adonis sitting by her Vnder a Myrtle shade began to woe him She told the yong-ling how god Mars did trie her And as he fell to her so fell she to him Euen thus quoth she the wanton god embrac'd me And then she clasp'd Adonis in her armes Euen thus quoth she the warlike god vnlac'd me As if the boy should vse like louing charmes But he a wayward boy refusde her offer And ran away the beautious Queene neglecting Shewing both folly to abuse her proffer And all his sex of cowardise detecting Oh that I had my mistris at that bay To kisse and clippe me till I ranne away SONNET IIII. DId you sometimes three German brethren soe Rancor twixt two of them so raging rife That th' one could stick the other with his knife Now if the third assaulted chance to bee By a fourth strange him set on the three Them two twixt whom afore was deadly strife Made one to robbe the stranger of his life Then doe you know our state aswell as we Beautie and Chastitie with her were borne Both at one birth and vp with her did grow Beautie still foe to Chastitie was sworne And Chastitie sworne to be Beauties foe And yet when I lay siege vnto her heart Beautie and Chastitie both take her part SONNET V. ARraign'd poore captiue at the barre I stand The barre of Beautie barre to all my ioyes And vp I hold my euer-trembling hand Wishing or life or death to end annoyes And when the Iudge doth question of the guilt And bids me speake then sorrow shuts vp words Yea though he say speake boldly what thou wilt Yet my confusde affects no speech affoords For why alas my passions haue no bound For feare of death that penetrates so neere And still one griefe another doth confound Yet doth at length a way to speech appeere Then for I speake too late the Iudge doth giue His sentence that in prison I shall liue SONNET VI. VNhappie sentence worst of worst of paines To lie in darksome silence out of ken Banisht from all that blisse the world containes And thrust from out the companies of men Vnhappie sentence worse then worst of deaths Neuer to see Fidessaes louely face Oh better were I loose ten thousand breaths Then euer liue in such vnseene disgrace Vnhappie sentence worse then paines of hell To liue in self-tormenting griefes alone Hauing my heart my prison and my cell And there consum'd without reliefe to mone If that the sentence so vnhappie be Then what am I that gaue the same to me SONNET VII OFt haue mine eyes the Agents of mine heart False traytor eyes conspiring my decay Pleaded for grace with dumbe and silent art Streaming foorth teares my sorrowes to allay Moning the wrong they doe vnto their Lord Forcing the cruell faire by meanes to yeeld Making her gainst her will some grace t'affoord And striuing sore at length to winne the field Thus worke they meanes to feed my fainting hope And strēgthened hope ads matter to each thought Yet when they all come to their end and scope They doe but whollie bring poore me to nought She 'l neuer yeeld although they euer crye And therefore we must altogether dye SONNET VIII GRiefe vrging guest great cause haue I to plaine me Yet hope perswading hope expecteth grace And saith none but my selfe shall euer paine me But griefe my hopes exceedeth in this cace For still my fortune euer more doth crosse me By worse euents then euer I expected And here and there ten thousand waies doth tosse me With sad remembrance of my time neglected These breeds such thoughts as set my heart on fire And like fell hounds pursue me to the death Traytors vnto their Soueraigne Lord and Sire Vnkind exacters
of their father breath Whom in their rage they shall no sooner kill Then they themselues themselues vniustly spill SONNET IX MY spotles loue that neuer yet was tainted My loyall heart that neuer can be moued My growing hope that neuer yet hath fainted My constancie that you full well haue proued All these consented haue to pleade for grace These all lye crying at the doore of Beautie This wailes this sends out teares this cryes apace All doe reward expect of faith and dutie Now either thou must proue th' vnkindest one And as thou fairest art must cruelst be Or els with pitie yeeld vnto their mone Their mone that euer will importune thee Ah thou must be vnkind and giue deniall And I poore I must stand vnto my triall SONNET X. CLip not sweet loue the wings of my desire Although it soare aloft and mount too hie But rather beare with me though I aspire For I haue wings to beare me to the skie What though I mount there is no Sunne but thee And sith no other Sunne why should I feare Thou wilt not burne me though thou terrifie And though thy brightnes doe so great appeare Deere I seeke not to batter downe thy glorie Nor doe I enuie that thy hope increaseth Oh neuer thinke thy fame doth make me sorrie For thou must liue by fame when beautie ceaseth Besides since from one roote we both did spring Why should not I thy fame and beautie sing SONNET XI WIng'd with sad woes why doth faire Zephire blow Vpon my face the map of discontent Is it to haue the weedes of sorrow grow So long and thicke that they will nere bee spent No fondling no it is to coole the fire Which hot desire within thy breast hath made Check him but once and he will soone retire Oh but he sorrowes brought which cannot fade The sorrowes that he brought he tooke from thee Which faire Fidessa spun and thou must weare Yet hath she nothing done of crueltie But for her sake to trie what thou wilt beare Come sorrowes come you are to me assignde I le beare you all it is Fidessaes minde SONNET XII OH if my heauenly sighes must proue annoy Which are the sweetest musicke to my heart Let it suffice I count them as my ioy Swwet bitter ioy and pleasant painfull smart For when my breast is clogg'd with thousand cares That my poore loaded heart is like to breake Then euery sigh doth question how it fares Seeming to adde their strength which makes me weake Yet for they friendly are I entertaine them And they too well are pleased with their boast But I had not Fidessa been ere now had slaine them It 's for her cause they liue in her they boast They promise helpe but when they see her face They fainting yeeld and dare not sue for grace SONNET XIII COmpare me to the child that plaies with fire Or to the flye that dyeth in the flame Or to the foolish boy that did aspire To touch the glorie of high heauens frame Compare me to Leander struggling in the waues Not able to attaine his safeties shore Or to the sicke that doe expect their graues Or to the captiue crying euer more Compare me to the weeping wounded Hart Moning with teares the period of his life Or to the Bore that will not feele his smart When he is striken with the butchers knife No man to these can fitly me compare These liue to dye I dye to liue in care SONNET XIIII WHen silent sleepe had closed vp mine eyes My watchfull minde did then begin to muse A thousand pleasing thoughts did then arise That sought by sleights their master to abuse I saw oh heauenly sight Fidessaes face And faire dame Nature blushing to behold it Now did she laugh now winke now smile apace She tooke me by the hand and fast did hold it Sweetly her sweet bodie did she lay downe by me Alas poore wretch quoth she great is thy sorrow But thou shalt comfort find if thou wilt trie me I hope sir boy you le tell me newes to morrow With that away she went and I did wake withall When ah my hony thoughts were turn'd to gall SONNET XV. CAre-charmer sleepe sweet ease in restles miserie The captiues libertie and his freedomes song Balme of the brused heart mans chiefe felicitie Brother of quiet death when life is too too long A Comedie it is and now an Historie What is not sleepe vnto the feeble minde It easeth him that toyles and him that 's sorrie It makes the deaffe to heare to see the blinde Vngentle sleepe thou helpest all but me For when I sleepe my soule is vexed most It is Fidessa that doth master thee If she approach alas thy power is lost But here she is see how he runnes amaine I feare at night he will not come againe SONNET XVI FOr I haue loued long I craue rewarde Rewarde me not vnkindlie thinke on kindnes Kindnes becommeth those of high regarde Regard with clemencie a poore mans blindnes Blindnes prouokes to pittie when it crieth It crieth giue deere Lady shew some pittie Pittie or let him die that day lie dieth Dieth he not oft who often sings this dittie This dittie pleaseth me although it choke me Me thinkes dame Eccho weepeth at my moning Moning the woes that to complaine prouoke me Prouoke me now no more but heare my groning Groning both night and day doth teare my hart My hart doth know the cause triumphs in his smart SONNET XVII SWeet stroke so might I thriue as I must praise But sweeter hand that giues so sweet a stroke The Lute it selfe is sweetest when she plaies But what heare I a string through feare is broke The Lute doth shake as if it were afraide Oh sure some Goddesse holds it in her hand A heauenly power that oft hath me dismaide Yet such a power as doth in beautie stand Cease Lute my ceaseles suite will nere be heard Ah too hard-hearted she that will not heare it If I but thinke on ioy my ioy is mard My griefe is great yet euer must I beare it But loue twixt vs will proue a faithfull page And she will loue my sorrowes to asswage SONNET XXVIII OH she must loue my sorrowes to asswage Oh God what ioy felt I when she did smile Whom killing griefe before did cause to rage Beautie is able sorrow to beguile Out traytor absence thou doest hinder me And mak'st my Mistris often to forget Causing me raile vpon her crueltie Whil'st thou my suite iniuriously doest let Againe her presence doth astonish me And strikes me dumbe as if my sense were gone Oh is not this a strange perplexitie In presence dombe she heares not absent mone Thus absent presence present absence maketh That hearing my poore suite she it mistaketh SONNET XIX MY paine paints out my loue in dolefull verse The liuely glasse wherein she may behold it My verse her wrong to me doth still rehearse But so as it lamenteth