beggar soone is spied When weake Shores wife had lost her staffe of stay The halt and blind went limping lame away The poore is pincht and pointed at in deed As baited bull were leading to a stake Wealth findes great helpe want gets no friend at néede A plaged wight a booteles mone may make A naked soule in street for colde may quake But colde or hot when mischiefes comes a roe As falles the lot the backe beares of the bloe Prefarment past the world will soone forget The present time is daily gazd vpon Yf merchant rich from wealth doe fall in debt Small count is made of his good fortune gon We feede on flesh and fling away the bone Embrace the best and set the worst aside Because faire flowers are made of in their pride You yonglings nowe that vaine delights leads on To sell chast life for lewd and light desires Poore gaine is gote when rich good name is gon Foule blot and shame liues vnder trimme attires World soone casts off the hackney horse it hiers And when bare nagge is ridden out of breath Tibbe is turnd lose to feed on barren heath Of flowers a while men doe gay poses make The sent once past a due dry withered leaues Loue lasts not long prickt vp for pleasures sake Straw little worth when corne forsaks the sheaues A painted post the gazars eie deceiues But when foule fauts are found that bleard the sight The account is gon of girlls or gugawes light Young pooppies play small season lasts you sée Old appish sportes are quickly out of grace Fond wanton games will soone forgotten be As sowre as crabbe becomes the sweetest face There needes no more be spoken of this case All earthly ioyes by tract of time decayes Soone is the glase runne out of our good dayes My fall and facte makes proofe of that is spoke Tels world to much of shadowes in the sunne Dust blowne with winde or simple proofe of smoake That flies from fire and fast throwe aire doth run It ends with woe that was with ioy begun It turnes to teares that first began with sport At length long paine finds pleasure was but short As long as life remaind in Edwards brest Who was but I who had such friends at call His body was no sooner put in chest But well was he that could procure my fall His brother was mine enemy most of all Protector then whose vice did still abound From ill to worse till death did him confound He falsely fainde that I of counsell was To poyson him which thing I neuer meant But he could set thereon a face of brasse To bring to passe his lewde and false intent To such mischiefe this tyrants heart was bent To God ne man he neuer stood in awe For in his wrath he made his will a lawe Lord Hastings bloud for vengeaunce on him cryes And many moe that were to long to name But most of all and in most woefull wise I had good cause this wrtched man to blam◠Before the world I suffered open shame Where people were as thicke as is the sand I pennance tooke with taper in my hand Each eye did stare and looke me in the face As I past hy the rumours on me ran But pacience then had lent me such a grace My quiet lookes were praisd of euery man The shamefast bloud brought me such collour than That thousands sayde that sawe my sober chéere It is great ruth to sée this woman heere But what preuayld the peoples pitie there This raging wolfe would spare no guiltles blood Oh wicked wombe that such ill fruit did beare Oh cursed earth that yéeldeth forth such mud The hell consume all things that did thée good The heauens shut their gates against thy spréete The world tread downe thy glory vnder féete I aske of God a vengeance on thy bones Thy stinking corps corrupts the aire I knowe Thy shamefull death no earthly wight bemones For in th◠life thy workes were hated so That euery man did wis◠thy ouerthroe Wherefore I may though parciall nowe I am Curse euery cause whereof thy body came Woe worth the man that fathered such a childe Woe worth the howre wherein thou wast begate Woe worth the brests that haue the world begylde To norish thée that all the worlde did hate Woe worth the Gods that gaue thée such a fate To liue so long that death deserude so oft Woe worth the chance that set thée vp aloft Woe worth the day the time the howre and all When subiects clapt the crowne on Richards head Woe worth the Lordes that sat in sumptuous hall To honour him that Princes blood so shead Woulde God he had bin boyld in scalding lead When he presumde in brothers seat to sit Whose wretched rage ruld all with wicked wit Yée Princes all and rulers euerechone In punishment beware of hatreds yre Before yée scourge take héede looke well thereon In wraths ill will if malice kindle fyre Your harts will burne in such a hote desyre That in those flames the smoke shall dim your sight Yée shall forget to ioyne your iustice right You should not iudge till things be well descernd Your charge is still to maintaine vpright lawes In conscience rules yée should be throwly lernd Where clemencie bids wrath and rashnes pause And further saith strike not without a cause And when yee smite doe it for iustice sake Then in good part ech man your scourge will take If that such zeale had moud this tyrants mind To make my plague a warning for the rest I had smal cause such fault in him to finde Such punishment is vsed for the best But by ill will and powre I was oprest He spoylde my goods and left me bare and poore And caused me to beg from dore to dore What fall was this to come from Princes fare To watch for crumes among the blind and lame When almes were delt I had an hungry share Because I knewe not how to aske for shame Till force and néede had brought me in such frame Than starue I must or learne to beg an almes With booke in hand to say S. Dauids Psalmes Where I was wont the golden chaines to weare A payre of beads about my necke was wound A linnen cloth was lapt about my heare A ragged gowne that trailed on the ground A dish that clapt and gaue a heauie sound A staying staffe and wallet there withall I bare about as witnesse of my fall The fall of leafe is nothing like the spring Ech eye beholdes the rising of the sunne All men admire the fauour of a King And from great states growne in disgrace they run Such sodaine claps ne wit nor will can shun For when the stoole is taken from our féete Full flat on floore the body falls in stréete I had no house wherein to hide my heade The open stréete my lodging was perforce Full oft I went all hungry to my bed My flesh consumde I looked like a corse
had sent With louing wife at home the same he spent He tooke great paines to come by that he had And trauailde sore through many a forraine soile To bring that home that makes the houshold glad And kéepe the wife and houshold folke from â—oile And I tooke care that nothing went to spoile And looke in deede what things that I did lacke Was seene in face or found vppon my backe The world might sée I went in garments good Though small I brought to him as I confesse I spent him much and at great charge I stood Which brings strong harts somtime to great distres But neuer that might make his loue the lesse For looke how he his liking first beganne In fine for troth he proude the selfe same manne I could not sléepe but where in bed he lay I could not eate but where he sate at boorde I could not laugh when liking was away I silent sat gaue he but halfe a woorde Ill newes of him strake me with mortall sword His minde and mine did draw so in one yoke The selfe same sittes he felt where of I spoke Full seauen yeares this constant course we kept Though often times there happened houshold iarrs And tratling tales that in betweene vs crept Made many wounds where yet remains the scarrs Yet alwaies peace tooke vp our brawling warrs And we did seeke to salue each others sore And passe old griefes and thinke thereon no more Swéete is that peace that patcheth vp great harmes Sharpe is the warre that teares a house in â—waine Woe worth those words that brings in brauleâ— by swarms Darke be those cloudes that alwaies threatens raine Curst be the cause that breedeth woe and paine And damnde in Hell those subtill spirites shalbe That councell gaue to part my choise from me Well as our chaunce together was to ioyne And dwell long while as here in briefe you hard So happe came on through hope of wealth or coine And drew my choise where he might be prefarde To warres and I that had a great regard To him that time when I his minde did know Gaue my consent that he to warres should goe With sighes and sobs and bitter teares among We parted tho with promise surely past That one should heare from other ere twere long And sadly so we seured at the last His goods his gold his friends both firme and fast He left me then to comfort me withall But nere a childe as Fortune so did fall He past the seas and sent me tokens still And money such as might supply my néede And for to shew his faith and great good will Long Letters large he made that I might réede Of promise past and to come home in déede But to what end should serue this businesse great My minde was turnde warme loue had lost his heat A new fine man both young and apt for chaunge I those and cleane forgat my former ioy And in a while I was become so straunge As Hagard Hauke that takes in head a toy And flées from Lure and waâ—eth nice and coy My wedlocke now not hearing of these newes Made no hast home till I was ore the shewes Yet knacks I wrought to bleare my husbands eies I made a bruite be blowne that I was dead When that he heard he did his life despise And so forsooke sléepe rest and tast of bread He rent his haire he sadly shooke his head He walkt the woods and shunned all repaire As one would be deuourd with fowles of thaire He daily bledde when little foode he tooke He would not come where woemen were in place And he so leane and like a Ghost did looke That Death it selfe was seene amid his face A noble Earle as he beheld this case Brake with the man that thus tormented was And so in sports the troubled time did passe But ague â—its and sicknesse followed on That in poore plite came home my husband thoe Not leane in purse but bare and néere the bone The bodye then was worne with warre and woe And yet full sound as al the world might know His limmes I saw but I so nice did waxe There was no flame of fire might come to flaxe For I could wéepe and quench by cunning art The hottest loue that euer husband bore And so two yeares I plaied a Foxes part Which ere I die I may repent full sore My husbands bedde I shund and furthermore I fainde I had a sickenesse let it goe I neuer minde that folly forth to shoe A finer â—ricke to compasse that I â—ought I plaide through fleight and casting figures trim To my good man a bastard gâ—rle I brought And from my friend presented her to him Hée saw thereby the find runne ore the brime Yet kept it close and sayd nothing at all Till out by chaunce might further matter fall And alwayes would my husbande tell mée plaine I did him wronge to keepe mee from his bedde But I could vse him in a pleasaunt vaine And make him soone forgett that hee had sedde My doore was lockt howe ere I layde my head My maydes and I kept solempne cheare alone How euer playne poore husbande made his monâ— Two yeares this wise I shoeffled Cardes full cleane Till husband spied a Letter of my hande Whereby hee found what follie I did meane But I was bent against my déede to stande So faest him down and swore when all was scande It was not mine but as hee soundly slept To his beds side my mayde and I wee stept And heaude him vp and so from bolster than Wee tooke his purse wherein the Letter laye When that wée had wee left the sillie man As saffe as hee that sléepes in Cocke of haye Well when he lookt in purse the other daye And found my fraude and falshood as it was Out of the doore in furie did hee passe Yet came againe that night and so fell sicke The cause whereof soone after you shall here Full long hee lay and toucht so neere the quicke That he was like to buy that sicknesse dere But when on foote hee stept and all was cleare He had farewell falâ—â— wife God send thée grace Thy wicked wayes makâ—s husband giue thee place I saw how world would wonder at this act And straight new tales on husband ganne I rayse With forged lies and rayling reasons rackt That still should sound vnto his most disprayse I faynde one while hee vsed wanton wayes With euery mayde that hee might touch or see And then he was to sicke a soule for mee Then poore hee was I sayde to cloke my pride When this serude not I â—wore the man was madd And in his rage would beate mee backe and side So euery daie a new deuice I had To make the world beléeue hee was too bad And at the length when all I had was sold My mayde and I goe trie the world we wold So shutting doore and trusting vp my packâ— I flang from home not bidding friendes farewell But I
Then thousands doe the world doth so report FINIS A Discourse of an old Souldiour and a young To the right Worshipfull Sir Henry Kneuet Knight one of the Lieutenants of Willshire THE world cannot wonder nor the wise thereof thinke strange that experience commaunds me to keepe friends and my pen doth what it maie to purchase me fauour for that is all the fruites of my studies Which once taken from me I haue neither prop to vphold mee nor foundation to stand on so feaâ—ing the weaknes of my feeble buildings that lies open to enuies blast which soddenly may bee blown downe I seeke manie staies and craue manie supportations for the maintenance of my honest mind and workes framed for the world to behold So good sir Henry among the worthy company of my selected friends I honor you with a smal discourse of age youth where a little is spoken of the olde Souldiour and the young not in dispraise of anie of them both but in the commendation of knowledge courage conduct vnder which three vertues consists many noble actions so vnder your fauourable sufferaunce I passe to my purposed matter THere is a strife a swéete dispute I troe Betwene two sorres of men in these our daies On which debate doth many reasons grow That soundes in déede to each good Souldiours praise Whose fame my pen is ready for to raise But my intent is first with flat plaine truth To treat a verse or two of age and youth Age is the fire and father of great thinges That hath begot both science rule and wit Brought great renowne and honour vnto kinges And for mans wealth may well in councell sit Youth is for field and towne a member fit To vse the sword in Countreys cause and right In whose defence youth hath great force to fight Age may commaund because it knoweth most And best can iudge of euery thing it knowes Hath mightie mind yet makes but little bost On whose aduice men may their liues repose The worth of youth standes oft in outward shewes That fresh and gay to worlde it séemeth still Like bladder faire that is blowne vp with quill Age lookes like tree whose barke is rough without When winters waste hath made gréene leaues to fall But when spring comes that braunch should bud and sprout With threefold fruite the sprayes are loaded all Bare youth lookes like a picture on a wall That stands both mute and dumme like shadow weake To séeke for sence whom age beginnes to â—peake The brute in world is how old thinges decreace For that sweete sap at length forsakes the trée Yet men will aske old wittes in warres or peace Of this or that what the successe shall be In outward shewes young iudgements well can sée When old mens sightes that wisely lookes within The end beholdes as sâ—one as they beginne A great old Oake long time will akornes beare And small young graffes are long in sprouting out Some say old wine is liked euery where And all men knowe new ale is full of growt Old horse goes well young titts are much to doubt But sure old gold is more estéemed than new No hauke compares with haggard in the mue Old men knowes much though young men calls them fooles Old bookes are best for there great learning is Old authors too are dayly read in schooles New Sects are naught olde knowledge cannot misse Old guise was good and nothing like to this Where fraude and craft and finesse all would haue And plainest men can neyther powle nor shaue Old Fathers builte faire Colleges good store And gaue great goodes and landes to bring vp youth Young men loues not to make of little more But spendes away their thrift to tell the trueth Old men were full of mercie grace and rueth And pittie tooke on those that seemde to lacke Young gallants gay from poore doe turne their backe Old beaten wayes are ready still to hit These new be-pathes leades men on many stiles An old prouerbye hath no more worâ—es than wit New fangled heades at each old order smiles Old wisedome farre surmountes young fondlings willes Experience is the Doctor euerie daie That carries close all knowledge cleane awaie Young houndes are fléete the old huntes sloe and true Old dogges bite sore if all their teeth be sound Old auncient freindes are better than the new In younglings loue there is small suretie found For like a top light fancie turneth round Old clothe or silke made in our elders dayes Wears long and firme when new thinges soone decayes Old souldiers are the beauty of a state Young branches beare but blossomes many a day Old Doctors can deepe matters well debate Young punies knowes not what old doctors say King Harries crue brought conquest home away From Flowdayne field from France and many a soyle And put the proud by strength and force to foyle Old souldiers were great Allexanders ayde And chiefest ioy in all the warres he had The white gray head made beardlesse boyes affraide Where graue men ruld the countrey all was glad And where they lackt the fortune was but bad As all thinges doth to skill and knowledge yeeld So old men beare the honour of the field What needs more proofe of auncient souldiers nowe Both old and young are needfull members heere I want both time and power to praise them throw For seruice great in countries quarrell deere When cause requires ye know the case is cleere These champions must in field and open plaine With shining sword the right of kinges maintaine FINIS A DISCOVRSE OF CALAMITY To the right VVorshipfull my singuler good friend Sir William Hatton knight IN the remembrance of a sorrowful losse I had by the death of the last Lord Chancelor good Sir William Hatton and considering your great countenance partly declined by that soddaine accident besides the great soms of money you were left to pay For the parting from such an honourable friend I thought euery peece of cause well waied you knowe as well what calamitie is as a meaner man and feeling the smart and weight of that burthen before you were ready to support it your care and calamitie could not be little First for the losse of so great a comfort next for the sorrow trobles that belongs to such a losse though lands or liuings helps to beare of a peece of the vexasion of mind yet the body shall alwayes beare to the death a sorrowfull imagination of that hastie mishap the impression therof shal neuer goe out of your memory so long as life lasteth So good sir in signe of some consolation I present you a discourse of Calamity the right path to come to quietnesse and the very hie way that leades a good mind to thinke of the immortality of the soule thus presuming your fauorable acception of the same I passe to the discourse of Calamity wishing you much worship hartes ease health T. Churchyard A Discription or Discourse that declareth how
drops of claret wine The beaten snow nor Lily in the field No whiter sure then naked necke and hand My lookes had force to make a Lyon yeeld And at my forme in gase a world would stand My body small framd finely to be spand As though dame kind had sworne in solemne sort To shrowd herselfe in my faire forme and port No part amisse when nature tooke such care To set me out as nought should be awry To fornish forth in due proportion rare A péece of worke should please a princes eie O would to God that boast might proue a lie For pride youth tooke in beauties borrowde trash Gaue age a whippe and left me in the lash My shape some saide was séemely to each sight My countenance did shewe a sober grace Mine eies in lookes were neuer proued light My tongue in wordes was chast in euery case Mine eares were deafe and would no louers place Saue that alas a Prince did blot my browe Loe there the strong did make the weake to bowe The maiestie that kings to people beare The stately port the awefull cheere they showe Doth make the meane to shrinke and couch for feare Like as the hounde that doth his maister knowe What then since I was made vnto the bowe There is no cloake can serue to â—ide my fault For I agréede the fort he should assault The eagles force subdues ech bird that flies What mettall may resist the flaming fire Doth not the Sun dasill the cléerest eyes And melt the yse and make the frost retyre Who can withstand a puissant kings desire The stiffest stones are perced through with tooles The wisest are with Princes made but fooles Yf kinde had wrought my forme in common frames And set me forth in colours blacke and browne Or beautie had beene parcht in Phoebus flames Or shamefast wayes had pluckt my fethers downe Then had I kept my fame and good renowne For natures gifts were cause of all my griefe A pleasaunt pray entiseth many a théefe Thus woe to thée that wrought my peacocks pride By cloathing me with natures tapestry Woe worth the hewe wherein my face was dyde Which made me thinke I pleased euery eie Like as the starres make men beholde the skye So beauties showe doth make the wise full fond And brings free harts full oft in endlesse bond But cléere from blame my friends can not be found Before my time my youth they did abuse In mariage yoke a prentise was I bound When that méere loue I knewe not how to vse But wel away that cannot me excuse The harme is mine though they deuisde my care And I must smart and sit in slaunderous snare Yet giue me leaue to pleade my cause at large Yf that the horse doe run beyonde his race Or any thinge that kéepers haue in charge Doe breake their course where rulers may take place Or meate be set before the hungries face Who is in fault th'offender yea or no Or they that are the cause of all this woe Note well what strife this forced mariage makes What lothed liues doe come where loue doth lacke What scratching briâ—rs doe growe vpon such brakes What common weales by it are brought to wracke What heauy loade is put on patients backe What strange delights this branch of vice doth bréed And marke what graine springs out of such a seede Compell the hauke to sit that is vnmande Or make the hounde vnraind to drawe the deere Or bring the free against his will in band Or moue the sad a pleasant tale to here Your time is lost and you no whit the nere So loue ne learnes of force the knot to knit She serues but those that féeles swéete fancies fit The lesse defame redounds to my dispraise I was muste by traines and trapt by trust Though in 〈◊〉 force remained yeas and nayes Unto my friends yet needes consent I must In euery thing yea lawâ—ull or vniust They breake the bowes and shake the trée by sleight And bend the wand that mought haue growne full straight What helpe is this the pale thus broken downe The deere must needes in danger run astray At me therefore why should the world so frowne My weakenes made my youth a Princes pray Though wisdome should the course of nature stay Yet try my case who list and they shall proue The ripest wits are soonest thralls to loue What néede I more to cleere my selfe so much A king me wan and had me at his call His royall state his princely grace was such The hope of will that women seeke for all The ease and wealth the gifts which were not small Beâ—â—eged me so strongly round about My powre was weake I could not holde him out Duke Hanniball in all his conquest great Or Caesar yet whose triumphes did exceed Of all their spoyles which made them toyle and sweate Were not so glad to haue so rich a méede As was this prince when I to him agreede And yéelded me a prisner willingly As one that knewe no way away to fly The Nightingale for all his merry voyce Nor yet the Larke that still delights to sing Did neuer make the hearers so reioyce As I with wordes haue made this worthy King I neuer iarde in tune was euery string I tempred so my tongue to please his eare That what I saide was currant euery where Sweete are the songs that merry-night crow singes For many parts are in those charming notes Swéete are the tunes and Pipes that pleaseth kings Sweete is the loue wherein great Lordings dotes But swéetst of all is fancie where it flotes For throwe rough seas it smoothly swimmes away And in déepe flouds where skulles of fish doe play And where loue slides it leaues no signe nor showe Where it hath gon the way so shuts againe It is a sport to heare the fine night-crow Chaunt in the queere vpon a pricke song plaine No musicke more may please a princes vaine Then descant strange and voice of faurets breesâ— In quiet bower when birds be all at rest No such consort as plaine two parts in one Whose rare reports doth carry cunning clean Where two long loues and liues in ioy alone They sing at will the treble or the meane UUhere musicke wants the mirth not worth a beanâ— The king and I agreed in such concorde I ruld by loue though he did raigne a Lord. I ioynd my talke my iestures and my grace In wittie frames that long might last and stand So that I brought the King in such a case That to his death I was his chiefest hand I gouernd him that ruled all this land I bare the sword though he did weare the Crowne I strake the stroke that threwe the mightie downe If iustice said that iudgement was but death With my sweete wordes I could the King perswade And make him pause and take therein a breath Till I with suite the fautors peace had made I knewe what way to vse him in his trade I had