Maister G. R. THe curtesies yée haue to me profest The bounty great that doth from you procéed Woulde make me déeme that day to be most blest In which I might stand you in any stéede When if I flinch cry on me open shame And where you come doe bafful my good name If yée doe muse that I but now begin For to expresse that heart hath long concealde Assure your selfe my secrete thought within So pricke me foorth it néedes must be reuealde And eke desire doth bid me let you know The loyall zeale and duety that Iowe As I confesse there is not in me ought To answeare that my Velle would fulfill So make account right farre hée must be sought That doth surmount or passe me in goodwill Which as in wordes I haue geuen out to some My déedes shal try if once occasion come A crew there are whose nature is to gloze And vaunt in words when heart thinks nothing lesse Assure your selfe that I am none of those But will performe what here I doe professe If that I shrink when you haue cause to rid me Doe cast me off and vtterly denie me Of fortunes giftes since slender is my part Take here in signe of happy yéere at hand These ragged lines true herauldes of my heart By which yée may my meaning vnderstand Their maister hath geuen them in charge to tel When he would worst y ◠hée doth wish you wel A Translation out of French O Heauenly God all beastes that doe remayne And nourisht are with foode that thou doest send Within the wooddes the mountaynes and the playne Thy holy hest and lawes doe not offende The scudding fish that swimmes amidst the Sea The pretie birdes that play them in the ayre Sunne moone and starres ech thing doth thée obey And at thy voyce doe tremble all for feare But man alas yea man whom thou doest make More perfect farre then all things els that liue Man whom thou wouldst thy proper shape to take To whom for guyde thou reason eke didst geue And wit and sense for to discerne aright What thing to take what likewise to refuse He he vile wretch and most vnthankefull wight Thy maiesty and honour doth abuse A Complaint of a Sinner O Lord most deare w t many a teare lamenting lamēting I fall before thy face And for ech crime done ere this time repenting repenting Most humbly call for grace Through wanton will I must confesse Thy precepts still I doe transgresse The world with his vayne pleasure Be witcht my senses so That I could find no leasure My vices to forgoe I graunt I haue through my deserte Deserud great plagues and bitter smart But yet swéet God doe stay thy rod forgeue me forgeue me Which doe thine ayde implore O cease thine ire I thée desire beléeue me beleue me I will so sinne no more But still shall pray thy holy name In the right way my steppes to frame So shall I not displease thee Which art my Lord of might My heart and tongue shall prayse thée Most humbly day and night I will delight continually Thy name to lawde and magnify With sighes sobs my heart it throbs remembring remembring The fraylty of my youth I ran a race deuoyd of grace not rendring not rendring Due reuerence to thy truth Such care I cast on earthly toyes That nought I past for heauenly ioyes But now it me repenteth My heart doeth bléede for woe Which inwardly lamenteth That euer it sinned so With many a sigh and many a grone O Lord to thée I make my mone Though furious fires of fond desires allure me allure me From thée so wander wyde Let pitifull eyes and moystened eyes procure thée procure thée To be my Lorde and guyde As Scripture sayth thou doest not craue A sinners death but wouldest him saue That sinfull wretch am I O Lorde Which would repent and liue With ceaslesse plaints I cry Lorde Thy pardon to me geue O Lord for thy swéete Iesu sake Doe not shut vp thy mercie gate Mercy mercy mercy graunt me I pray thée I pray thée Graunt mercy louing Lorde Let not the Diuel which meanes me euill betray me betray mee Protect me with thy worde So shall my heart find swéete reliefe Which now féeles smart and bitter griefe O Lord I doe request thée To guyde my steppes so well That when death shall arest me My soule with thée may dwell In heauen aboue where Angels sing Continuall prayse to thée theyr king A Dumpe THE pangues the priuie mones The inward secrete smarte The griefes the heauie grones That vexe my dolefull heart So plundge my life in paines And reaue mée of all ioy That death is onely meanes To ridde me from anoy I graunt that vitall breath preserueth life in me Yet liue I so that death more welcome farre should be No wight was euer so perplexed with despite I liue to tast ech woe and die to all delight Although by outward looks some déeme me void of thought Lookes are no certayne bookes but beare false titles oft For sundry times I iest when ioy alas is small And laugh amongst the rest yet haue no lust at all Loe thus in secret strife my lingring dayes are led I die yet am aliue I liue as being dead The more I beare it out as if I felt no yll The greater griefes no doubt doe grow within me still The thing which doth amate and most anoy my mind Is that my hard estate no remedy can finde As one that loathes to liue and daily calles for death These lines to thée I geue in witnesse of my fayth A Dumpe by his friende G. C. MY heauy heart in dolours drownde Consumes and pines away And for me wreth nought can be found To cause my cares decay Yée eyes of mine helpe to bewayle Powre foorth your brinish teares To rue alas his wretched state In whom no ioy appeares How should I wretch take any rest How can my heart féele ioy When as the wight that loues mée best Lyes plundged in annoy Whereto serue teares but to bewayle The losse of such a friend Wéepe eies alas wéepe on your fill And neuer make an end His troubled state if to redresse The spending of my blood Or that small pelfe that I possesse Could doe him any good Then should your eies somtimes permit Mée silly wretch to sléepe But out alas it may not bée Wherefore cease not to wéepe Such inward griefe doth mée assayle Through thought of his estate That if I long of succour fayle All helpe will come too late O sacred Ioue to cure these woes Vse thou some spéedie meanes Or els alas with some short death Dispatch mée of these paines For his friend LAte being new fangled so fancie did moue I was fast entangled in nets of blinde loue Good friends doe beléeue me I chose out a trull Which daily doth giue me a shrewd crow to pull Fauour with her felowes raisde coales of desire Bewtie was the bellowes that
perils great at hand For to attayne his owne desired land Such is the state of vs thy seruantes all Most gratious God that here on earth do dwell We banisht were through Adams cursed fall From place of blisse euen to the pit of hell Our vice and sinnes as markes and signes wee haue Which still we beare and shal doe to our graue When that all hope of remedy was past For our redresse when nothing could be founde Thine onely sonne thou didst send downe at last To salue this sore and heale our deadly wound Yet did they please to vse him as a meane Vs banisht wights for to call home agayne And for because thy Godhead thought it méete The sacred booke of thy most holy wil Thou didst vs leaue a lanterne to our féete To light our steppes in this our voyage still Directing vs what to eschew or take All this thou doest for vs vile sinners sake Graunt vs sound fayth that we take stedfast holde On Christ his death which did our raunsome pay So shall we shun the daungers manifold Which would vs let and cause vs run astray The wicked world the flesh the Diuell and all Are stumbling blockes ech howre to make vs fall This Dungeon vile of Sathan is the nest A Denne of dole a sinke of deadly sinne Heauen is the hauen in which we hope to rest Death is the dore whereby we enter in Swéete Sauiour graunt that so wée liue to die That after death we liue eternally In the praise of Musike THe bookes of Ouids changed shapes A story strange doe tell How Orpheus to fetch his wife Made voyage vnto hell Who hauing past olde Charons boate Vnto a Pallace came Where dwelt the Prince of damned sprites Which Pluto had to name When Orpheus was once ariude Before the Regall throne He playde on Harpe and sang so swéete As moude them all to mone At sound of his melodious tunes The very soules did moorne Yxion with his whirling whéele stoode still and would not turne And Tantalus did not assay The fléeting floodes to taste The sisters with their hollow siues For water made no haste The gréedy Vulturs that are faynde On Titius heart to gnawe Left off to féede and stoode amasde When Orpheus they sawe And Sysyphus which roules the stone Agaynst a mighty hill Whyles that his musike did endure Gaue eare and sate him stil The furies eke which at no time Were séene to wéepe before Were moude to moane his heauy happâ— And shedde of teares greate store If muficke with her notes diuine So great remorce can moue I déeme that man bereft of wits which musike will not loue She with her siluer sounding tunes Reuiues mans dulled sprites Shée féedes the eare shée fils the heart With choice of rare delights Her sugred descant doth withdraw Thy minde from earthly toyes And makes thée féele within thy brest A tast of heauenly ioyes The Planets and Celestiall partes Swéete harmony containe Of which if creatures were depriud This world could not remayne It is no doubt the very déede Of golden melodie That neighbours doe together liue In loue and vnitie Where man and wife agrées in one Swéete musike doth abound But when such stringes begin to iarre Vnpleasant is the sound Amongst all sortes of harmony none doth so well accord As when we liue in perfect feare And fauour of the Lord. Who graunt vnto vs sinfull wightes Sufficient power and might According to his mercy great To tune this string aright A pleasaunt Iest SOmetimes in Fraunce it did so chaunce One that did seruice lacke A country clowne went vp and downe With fardell on his backe When that this swad long trauailde had Some seruice to require His fortune was as hée did passe A farmar did him hire When Aprill showres y â— brings May flowers Made spring time bud and sprout This country swaine for maisters gaine Did ride his fieldes about Now as he road in ground abroad In prime of pleasaunt spring Hard by their towne this country clowne Did heare two cuckoes sing One of them sat fast by a gate In their towne fielde which stoode In place néereby hée might discry The other in a wood These Cuckoes séemde as lobcocke déemde With enuie to contend Which of them twaine in playne song vaine The other could amend Thus sange they long their woonted song Their townefielde Cuckoes throate Was nothing cléer which chaungd the chéere Of farmers man God wote His horse hée ties and fast hée hies Vpon a trée to stand And made a noyse with Cuckoes voyce To get the vpper hand Hée thought not good hée of the wood Should beare away the prayse To make him yéeld to him of fielde Himselfe the Cuckoe playes Cuckoe quoth hée vpon the trée And cuckoe cuckoe sayde With cuckoe cuckoe cuck cuck cuckoe Long time these cuckoes playde As they thus stand from woodes at hand Two wolues for pray that sought By chaunce espyed the horse fast tyed That lobcocke thither brought To him they hye and presently In péeces did him teare Whereat amasde the lobcocke gazde And pist himselfe for feare When Wolues were gone comming downe anone Homewardes hée hide with spéede And there doth tell all that befell Of this vnluckie déede His maister swore being wroth therfore He would none other nay But that the flaue and foolish knaue The price of horse should pay But to procéede it was agréed The wiues that there did dwell The case should scan of this poore man If hée did ill or well It being séene hée did it in Defence of all the towne With one intent they gaue consent For to accquite the clowne They eke him gaue a garland braue Adornd with many a rose And great and small him captaine call Of Cuckoes where he goes Now in my minde hée were vnkinde That would wish any ill Vnto a wight in townships right That shewd so great goodwill A Newyeeres gift to a Gentlewoman IF pure goodwill not meaning ill might boldly might boldly Presume to tell his minde I wold not vse in terms diffuse thus coldly thus coldly To shew my selfe a friend But now adayes so sinne preuailes That fayth decaies and friendship fayles Most men are so infected with ielous musing braines That trust as one reiected forsaken cleane remaines And thinges are constred cleane awry When nought was meant but honestie Thus much I say as by the way reciting reciting What daunger may ensue Because that I suspiciously in writing in writing Doe send my minde to you Some will surmise that I pâ—etend By such deuice some naughtie end But let them speak and spare not I force it not a beane For al their talke I care not whilst guiltles I remaine Such as haue not transgrest the lawes Doe neuer feare to pleade their cause But now swéete heart it is my part to open to open The summe of mine intent I send this bil for pure goodwill in token in token That former yéere is spent It is in
soule account must make Confesse thy faultes to God therefore Repent amend and sinne no more Of the vanitie of the world AS I lay musing in my bed A heape of fancies came in head Which greatly did molest mée Such sundry thoughtes of ioy and paine Did méete within my pondring braine That nothing could I rest mée Sometimes I felt excèeding ioy Sometimes the torment of annoy Euen now I laugh euen now I wéepe Euen now a slumber made mee sléepe Thus did I with thoughtes of straunge deuice Lye musing alone in pensiue wise I knew not what meanes might health procure Nor finish the toyle I did indure And still I lay and found no way That best could make my cares decay Reuoluing these thinges in my minde Of wretched world the fancies blinde Alone a while I ponder Which when I had perused well And saw no vertue there to dwell It made mée greatly wonder Is this that goodly thing thought I That all men loue so earnestly Is this the fruit that it doth yéelde Whereby wée all are so beguilde Ah Iesus how then my heart did rue Because I had folowed them as true Alas wée haue lost the heauenly ioyes And haue béene deceaued with worldly toyes Whose fancies vaine will bréede vs paine If Christ doe not restore againe O wretched man leaue off therefore In worldly thinges put trust no more Which yéeldes no thing but sorow To God thy Lord with spéede conuert Because thou most vncertain art If thou shalt liue too morow Leaue of to quaffe to daunce and play Remember still the iudgement day Repent relent and call for grace For pardon aske whilst thou hast space Who doeth from his heart repentaunce craue Forgiuenes saieth Christ of mée shall haue Hée will not the death of a sinner giue But rather hée should repent and liue Stil laud the Lord peruse his word And let thy déedes with it accord A Lesson for all estates HAst thou desire thy golden dayes to spend In blisfull state exempt from all annoyes So liue as if death how thy life should end Still treade the pathes that leade to perfect ioy Bee slow to sinne but spéedie to aske grace How are they blest that thus runne out their race Ech night ere sléepe shut vp thy drowsie eyes Thinke thou how much in day thou hast transgrest And pardon craue of God in any wise To doe that's good and to forsake the rest Sinne thus shake of the â—â—end for enuie wéepes Sound are our ioyes most quiet are our sléepes Haue not thy head so cloyd with worldly cares As to neglect that thou shouldst chiefly minde But beare an eye to Sathans wilâ— snares Who to beguile a thousand shiftes will finde Vaine are the ioyes that wretched world allowes Who trust them most doe trust but rotten bowes Shunne filthy vice persist in doing well For doing well doth godly life procure And godly life makes vs with Christ to dwell In endlesse â—lisse that euer shall endure Wée pray thée Lord our follyes to redresse That wée thus doe thus liue this blisse possesse A Dreame IN pleasaunt moneth of gladsome May I walkt abroad to view The fieldes which nature had bedeckt With flowers of sundry hew The sight whereof did recreate My senses in such sort As passeth far beyond my power Thereof to make reporte Then sat I néere a pleasaunt wood And listened with desire Vnto the small birdes chirping charme Which set my heart on fire Of Goldefinch and of Nightingale I there might heare the voyce The Wren the Robin and the thrush Did make a heauenly noyse Whose swéete melodious harmonie My senses so bereâ—t That I in this delightfull plot A pray to sléepe was left In slumber mine an auncient dame Before my face appeares Whose hollow chéekes and wrinckled face Did argue many yéeres Her vesture was as white as snow Her countenaunce very sad It semed by her watry eine Some inward griefe shée had For why great streames of trickling teares Distilled downe her chéekes And thus to mée with trembling voyce This aged beldam speakes My friende quoth shée bée not dismayde At this my sodaine sight Ne let the spéeches I shall vse Thy fearefull minde afright I am not of the furies broode Ne damned sprites of hell But hée through whome my being is Aboue the skies doth dwell And Lady Concord I am calde From forraine Realmes exilde Once mutual Loue my husband was And plentie was our childe But ah quod shée a hagge of hell That long hath sought their spoyle Hath slaine them both vnlesse they dwell Within your english soyle Héerewith there yssued from her eine Of teares abundant store And sighes so stopt her féeble voyce That shée could speake no more The sight wherof mée thought did rayse Great dolours in my breast Yet praying her for to procéede She thus her minde exprest Vile Couetousnesse that furie fell Hath wrought vs all this woe To Concord and to Mutuall Loue Shée is a deadly foe Time was when wée were well estéemde And calde ech countries stay But Couetousnesse now rules the roast And beareth all the sway And were it not that in this land I finde some small reliefe I had béene dead long ere this time Through greatnesse of my gréefe Debate and rancour night and day On this vile Dame attend Whom shée to worke her beastly will About the world doth send These two haue raysde such warre and strife In partes beyond the Seas That now few nations in the earth Enioy their woonted peace Now gold is reuerenced as a God Eche hunts for priuat gayne Men care not how their soules shall spéede So wealth they may attaine Of conscience now few make account Him men estéeme most wise Which to beguile his neighbour poore Can craftiest meanes deuise This sayd mée thought the auncient dame Did vanish straight away And I awaking héere withall Went home without delay Where taking paper penne and inke With spéede I there enrolde The circumstaunce of all the tale That Concord to mée tolde Which makes me wish that euery one Would mutuall loue imbrace And that no spots of couetousnesse With sinne their déedes deface A Dreame LAyd in my quiet bed to rest When sléepe my senses all had drownd Such dreames arose within my breast As did with feare my minde confound Mée thought I wandred in a wood Which was as darke as pitte of hell In midst whereof such waters stoode That where to passe I could not tell The Lion Tiger Woolfe and Beare There thundered forth such hideous cries As made huge Eccoes in the ayre And séemed almost to pearce the skies Long vext with care I there aboad And to get forth I wanted power At euery footesteppe that I troad I feard some beast would mée deuoure Abyding thus perplext with paine This case within my selfe I scand That humaine helpe was all in vaine Vnlesse the Lord with vs doe stand Then falling flatte vpon my face In humble sorte to God I prayde That in this
not rather rome abroad To séeke some pleasaunt sporte Then to be pend in study fast Like souldier in a forte To hawke to hunt to carde to dice To sing to daunce to play And can there bée more pleasaunt meanes To driue away the day To tosse the buckler and the blade Lewd women to entice Are not these vertues most estéemde And had in greatest price To lend ech man a firiendly looke And vse the glosers arte In outward shew to beare good will And hate him with our heart Are not such men as flatter best In euery coast estéemde Is not Tom teltroath euery where A busie cockscombe déeme It is a world to sée the sotte To haue a checke hée knowes And yet the noddy neuer linnes Mens vices to disclose Hée euer telles men of their faultes Such is his rude behauiour When hée by speaking nought at all Might purchase greater fauour Who countes it not a wisemans parte To runne with hare and hound To say and vnsay with one breath So winning may bée found Wherefore reioyce set cocâ—e on hoope Let nothing make thée sad Bée mery héere when thou art dead No mirth can then bée had Thus wanton will would euery day Still whisper in mine eare And wit which could not then be heard Was fled I know not where Who tries the hazard of the seas By sturdy tempest tost If that a drunkard guide their ship Are they not quickly lost How like I pray you is hée then Toâ— suffer shipwracke still VVhose wit and wisdome gouernde is By his vnruly will This Pilot vile in mée long time Did maisters roome supply Till good Aduice did tell mée plaine I ranne my course awry Hée spyed a time to breake his minde When Will was gone apart And thus to mée he did vnfolde The secretes of his heart O Man for whome Christ on the crosse His precious blood did spill What dost thou meane in mundane toyes To spend thy time so ill Dost thou not thinke that God hath eies To sée thy vile abuse What shew of reason canst thou bring Thy rashnes to excuse Did Christ sustaine must bitter death All sinneâ—â— to redâ—eme And wilt thou wallow still in lust And not his lawes estéeme If he by death and no meanes els Mens sinfull soules could saue Doest thou then thinke by wanton life Eternall ioyes to haue Too too too much thou art deceaude If so thou doe beléeue That he to haue men liue in vice Himselfe to death would geue With vpright eye peruse his lawes And thou shalt cléerely sée Into what sinkes of deadly sinne Thy will hath carried thée Thine eyes doe sée thine eares doe heare Thy senses all doe serue thée Yet canst thou neyther heare nor sée Such thinges as should preserue thée In earthly toyes thou canst discerne That which may best auayle thée But in such thing as touch thy soule Thy eyesight still doeth fayle thée O what a madnesse moues thy minde Thou séest and hast thy senses Yet wilt thou blindly wallow still In filth of vile â—ffences It better were for one to be Of sight depriued cléere Then sée to sinne and not sée that Which chiefly should be séenâ— Take héede therefore at length repent Its better late then neuer For Christ the Cockle from the corne At haruest will disseuer At day of doome the good and bad Shall not alike remayne The good shall taste vncessant ioyes The bad eternall payne Doste thinke that such as tospotlike Set all at sixe and seuen Are in a ready way to bring Their sinfull soules to heauen And those that in great Princes Courtes Doe Ruffian like behaue them Doste déeme that they thereby procure A ready meane to saue them To sweare to stare to bib bowse To flatter glose and lye Is this tell me the stedfast fayth That men are saued by If white be blacke if night be day If true pretence bée treason If fire be colde if senselesse things Fulfill the rule of reason Then may the pleasures of this worlde Be cause of our saluation For otherwise thou must confesse They further our damnation Take héede therefore and warned thus Let not the worlde beguile thée Ne let the lustes of lawlesse flesh With sinfull déedes defile thée Let wilfull will be banisht cleane With all his wanton toyes Which filles thy head with vayne delightes In stéede of stedfast ioyes Note well my wordes still serue the Lorde Repent and sinne no more Christ hath for true repentaunt heartes Great mercie still in store When good aduice had tolde this tale Prostrate I downe did fall And humbly holding vp my handes Thus on the Lorde did call OMighty God which for vs men Didst suffer on the Crosse The payneful pangues of bitter death To saue our soules from losse I yéeld thée héere most hearty thankes In that thou doest vouchsaue Of me most vile and sinfull wretch So great regard to haue Alas none euer had more cause To magnifie thy name Then I to whom thy mercies shewde Doe witnesse well the same So many brunts of fretting foes Who euer could withstand If thou hadst not protected me with thy most holy hand A thousand times in shamefull sort My sinfull life had ended If by thy gratious goodnesse Lorde I had not byn defended In stinking pooles of filthy vice So déepely was I drownde That none there was but thée alone To set my foote on ground Whenas the fiend had led my soule Euen to the gates of hell Thou caldst mée backe and doest me choose In heauen with thée to dwell Let furies now fret on their fill Let Sathan rage and rore As long as thou art on my side What néede I care for more MY Prayer sayde me thought I felt Such quiet in my mynde As shipmen after tempest past In wished harbour finde My wil woulde then no more presume To rule in reasons place For good aduice would bée at hand His doyngs to disgrace Who tolde me playne that wanton will Did alwayes serue the Diuell And was his busiest instrument To stirre vp men to euill Although the gallant be so braue And sell such pleasures here They that best cheape doe buy the same Shall find it all too déere Yet they that woulde aduenture there The Diuell and all may gayne With euery inch of pleasant ioyes He selles ten Elles of payne If that thou wisely wilt foresée Such winnings to eschew Ere beggery take thée by the backe Doe byd the Court adew Hencefoorth exile vile wanton will Which is thy chéefest foe Goe get thée home liue to thy selfe And let all courting goe Experience now should make thée know What vice in court doth rayne And tract of time shoulde teach thée shunne Her pleasures mixt with payne Though some may dayly there be séene That follow vertue still Which honour God obey their Prince And flie from dooyng ill Yet sure of them the greatest parte Are carried so away With vayne delightes that they ne thinke Nor mynde their soules decay O that
I here tolde not a lye O were it not too true That very few theyr Princesse steppes In godlinesse ensue Should I passe on her golden giftes And graces to declare The sandes in bottome of the Seas More easily numbred are If tongue or pen should take in hand Her vertues to vnfolde Tongue should not speake pen would be worne Ere halfe the tale were tolde Shée is next God the onely spring From which our welfare flowes She is a trée on which nought els But graftes of goodnesse growes Shée is a Sunne that shines on vs with beames of blissefull happes Shée is a dew that daily drops Great plenty in our lappes When angry Neptune shipwracke threats Through force of wrestling waues Shée is a port of safe refuge Which vs from daunger saues When duskie cloudes of errors blacke Had dimde our ioyfull day Through Christ shée causde the Gospell shine Which draue them all away Shée worthy statutes hath ordaynd To kéepe men still in awe But euery man vnto himselfe Will now set downe a lawe Such as his will doth fancy best They neuer care how bad Nor farre from God and godlinesse So pleasure may be had If lawlesse lust were lawfull loue If wauering wordes were déedes Then would the Court bring foorth more fruite And not so many wéedes Thou knowest among the courting crew How little fayth is forced Sound friendship from the most of them Is vtterly deuorced Who cannot flatter glose and lie And set thereon a face Is neuer able for his life To get a Courtly grace Who sweates not in his sutes of silke And is not passing braue Amongst them beares no countenance They déeme him but a slaue As long as thou hast store of coyne And spendst it with the best In outward shew great friendlinesse To thée shalbe profest But if thy wealth begin to weare If pence begin to fayle thée Theyr friendship then in time of néede But little shall auayle thee For they will shrinke their heades aside And leaue thée posts alone If twenty were thy friendes before Now hardly getst thou one I pray thée let vs scan this case And doe thou sadly tell What thing at first did make thée like And loue the Court so well Didst thinke that there a godly life Might soonest be attaynde And motions of the sinfull fleshe Most easily be refraynd That cannot be for all men sée How vice is there imbraste And vertue with the greatest parte Is vtterly defaste Did hope of wealth first pricke thée foorth In Court to spend thy life Or didst thou thinke that liberal gifts With noble men were ryfe If ought thou carrie in thy purse Thou quickly there mayst spend it But when thy landes and rentes are gone How canst thou then amend it To begge would gréeue thy loftie mynde That earst had store of wealth And hanging is the end of such as take mens goodes by stealth Because thou serust a noble man Perhaps thou makst no doubt In hope that he at such a pinche Will alwayes beare thée out Such hope hath hanged many a one Whom wilful Will did guyde By often proofe in these our dayes Too true it hath béene tried For when a halters sliding knot Hath stopt their vitall breath He was say they a handsome man Its pitie of his death Thus all too late their pitie comes But seldome comes their ayde Wherefore doe not forget these wordes That I to thée haue sayde Be not sedewste by wanton will Let warnings make thee wise And after this in all thy déedes Be rulde by good aduise This tale béeyng tolde he heald his peace And I which found it true Did yéeld him thankes and gate me home And bad the Court adew We till to sowe we sow to reape We reape and grind it by and by We grinde to bake we bake to eate We eate to liue we liue to die We die with Christ to rest in ioy In heauen made free from all anoy FINIS A Preface to certaine questions and Riddles ensuing translated out of Italian verse into english verse by H. G. AL yee vnto whome the skanning and viewing Shal come of these questions riddles ensuing I let you first know thus much without fayning That all of them carry a good and cleane meaning If so they be constred aright in their sense Thus much may I boldly speake in their defence But if in ill part some fortune to take them We fayle of the end to which we did make them Which was for the solace of them that can vse them What thinges can be sound if men wil abuse them To such as are cleane what can be vnpure Such as are defilde ill thoughts haue in vre If of any riddle badde sense ye pick out Gesse at it againe ye fayle without doubt And doe not aright his meaning expound Their true exposition is honest and sound And that shall be proued if you will craue tryall So truely that no man will stand in deniall Committing the sequel to your approbation I finish the preface of this my translation 1 A Father once as bookes expresse Had sonnes twise sixe nor more nor lesse Ech sonne of children had scores thrée Halfe of them sonnes halfe daughters bée The sonnes are farre more white then snowe The daughters blacker then a crow Wee sée these children dayly die And yet they liue continually 2 A mightie blacke horse with gallant white winges Within his graund paunch beares many straunge things Hée oft doth trauayle for maysters auayle And caryes his bridle tyed fast to his taile In going hée flyes twixtearth and the ayre And oft where they would not his riders doth beare Hée hath diuers eies and yet cannot sée I pray you doe tell mée what may this beast bée 3 A certaine thing liueth in place néere at hande Whose nature is straunge if it bée well scand It sées without eyes it flyes without winges It runnes without féete it workes wondrous thinges To places far distant it often doth rome Yet neuer departeth but taryes at home If thou doe it couet to féele or to sée Thy labour is lost for it may not bée 4 What am I that wanting both handes féete and head Of all them that sée me being déemed for dead Of breath haue great store and moue too and fro Now vp and now downe now hye and now low Alas what hard fortune doth to mée befall That guiltlesse am spited of great and of small They strike me and push mee South West North East Yet doe I no harme to most neither least When as my breath fayling I can doe no more They then giue mée ouer and neuer before 5 I being the daughter of my vncles brother Am now of late become a mother And with my milke from my pappes which flowes I nourish a sonne my mothers owne spowse Now tell what I am declare mine estate For I giue him sucke that first me begate 6 None liueth more iocound in al the whole land Though head doth