share the ioyes that euer shall indure My bodie I bequeath vnto the earth The common Mother that first brought it forth My blessing I bequeath vnto the blade That makes the breach for grislie death to enter She shall not ride my patience like a iade If death-wrought resolution may preuent her O welcome engine of my cares releasing That kill'st Despaire to make my hopes increasing My sorrowes cares hart-breaking sighes and crosses Woes lamentations pining and despaires My teares complaints foule iniuries and losses Griefs shame misfortune and my daily feares I giue to her that now giues me this fall The sole efficient of my Funerall Let her haue time to rent her Amber haire Lether haue time to thinke on me and raue Let her haue time of fauour to despaire And skorn'd of all to liue Affections slaue Let her haue time to beg and none relieue her And euery day bring crosses more to grieue her Let her haue time to proue her friends her foes And see her olde acquaintance all forsake her Let her haue time her honest name to lose Abhorr'd of men and cursed of her Maker And euery minute let her finde a time To rue my death her vnrecalling crime My Halcyon daies of blisse and happines The milde forerunners of this fearefull storme I giue to those whom better starres doe blesse Which neuer felt the sting of womans skorne What euer else is mine disbursed be To those that liue and thinke no harme of me Come gentle knife why lingrest thou so long Come ease my sorrowes with thy fatall stroke My heart is resolute my hand is strong My lingring life more torment doth prouoke O King of graues why killst thou them abhor thee And turnst from me that now am readie for thee Auaunt thou viper I thy spite defie Where life is lou'd thou readie art to kill But neuer once thy weapons wilt applie To the redressing of a wretches ill Come trustie hand for thou must doe the deede Since other friends are fled in time of neede The Starre that first made entrance in mine eye And thence departing strooke my senses blinde Then led my heart in base captiuitie Yet to her prisoner proueth most vnkinde Witnes faire heauens she she t' is onely she That guides this hand to giue this wound to me Eub. Stay stay thy hand O Natures prodigie If blood and death must expiate thy rage Pittie thy selfe foule beast and murther me My life for thine my selfe will be thy gage Ten thousand deaths my soule indures to see Gods image wrong'd in thy mortalitie In massak'ring thy selfe whom dost thou kill But with thy bodie that immortall soule For whose redemption Christ vouchsaft to spill Those purple drops to quench the liuing coale Of his deere Fathers deepe-deserued hate And to the heauens promote thy poore estate Think'st thou by dying to preuent the paine That seemes to pinch thee in this brittle life Alas this death begets thee life againe When with thy selfe thy selfe shall be at strife When thou wilt thinke all paines consort in one And that thy selfe sustain'st them all alone O Acolastus what foule fiend of Hell Would glut his fury with thy harmeles blood Watching thy death here in some shady cell To pray vpon thy soule thy soueraigne good Looke studie sigh for grace and flye from euill Grace and resistance driues away the deuill Acolast Art thou a God a Man or else a Ghost Com'st thou from heauen where blisse solace dwell Or from the ayrie could-ingendring coast Or from the darkesome dungeon-hole of hell Or from the secret chambers of the deepe Or from the graues where breathles bodies sleepe Art thou a Hermite in this wildernes Or else some Satyre maskt in ages weeds Or by the heauens I charge thee to confesse Art thou her shape for whom my poore hart bleeds I I t' is so thou art that cruell she That wrought my death now fain'st to pittie me What bloody scene hath crueltie to act Death is the worst thy malice can inflict And thou hadst seene my soules poore cittie sackt But thy deepe policie did contradict Knowing by death my troubles should haue end Which to prolong thou mainly dost intend O be content with robbing me of life Why dost thou triumph ouer fortunes wracke The death of men determinates their strife And warres are finisht with the Cities sacke The Elephant and Dragon mortall foes Bury their hate in mutuall ouerthrowes By life my soule was pind in little ease By death I seeke my thraldome to release Then let my life thy brutish hart appease And giue me leaue at least to dye in peace O let it not be said in time to come A womans hate suruiues till day of doome Eub. Fondling I am no God nor tempting friend Nor yet the woman that could wish thee dead Know me for Eubulus thy auncient friend Witnesse this snow-white fleece vpon my head Marke my complection habite tongue and yeares How euery thing in quondam sort appeares I am no flint-hart female bloody minded Mocking thy senses with a borrowed shape But one that sees thy sense through passion blinded And sighes and seekes away for thine escape Then charme this mad infection that doth raigne In beldam fury of thy witles braine Be not as sottish as the simple sort That wracke their wits vpon misfortunes shelfe Nor yeelde thy reasons beauty-battred for t Crying God helpe yet neuer helpe thy selfe Thy crazed Shipp's not so farre runne on shore But thou maist scape and flourish as before Acolast Et tu Brute wilt thou stab Caesar too Thou art my friend and wilt not see me wrong'd I pray thee leaue me without more adoo For with my life my sorrowes are prolong'd I know thou pleasurst not in my distresse Then rob me not of deaths true happinesse Yet since in sun-shine of my better daies Thou wast a Father to my head-strong youth Training my rash-braind thoughts in reasons waies Whose words I euer found the glasse of Truth My cares shall take a truce with death so long Till I haue made thee priuie to my wrong Loe here at hand a circle-braunching tree Whose leauie bosome makes a summer seate Nature hath raisd this arbour purposely To shroude our bodies from the parching heate Here while we sit within this gloomy shade I 'le tell my Loue and how it did inuade Eub. Then yeeld me vp this irefull instrument The destin'd engine of thy tragedie T' is wisdomes rule occasions to preuent And giue no ground to Sathans trecherie Well now begin and giue thy sorrowes vent I 'le sit and mourne with thee till day be spent Mcolast To shew the poyson of my endles pining The taske is long and tedious to expresse Bright Phaebus to the Westerne deepe declining And repetition neuer made thing lesse Who rippes the rancour of old-wounded flesh In steede of healing makes it bleede a fresh Yet since the heauens are so propitious To make my friend eye-witnesse to my fall Lysten kinde
wrong my true affection so I gaue in pawne my heart my hand my will Yet didst thou from thy plighted promise goe Vowing if all were dead saue I alone Thou wouldst forsake me and be wife to none Were I deformed though I am not faire Ill-nurturd Naturd churlish and vnkind Did any member Monster-like appeare Or did I faile in faculties of mind Then hadst thou some pretence of reason why Thus all askaunce thou holdst me in thine eye But these are false then whence deriues this hate Vngratfull guerdon of my zelous loue Perchance thou seest my shallow-ebd estate The thought whereof thy liking doth remoue T' is so I know it by too true a token For why thy selfe the same hast often spoken O Vertues blemish and thy sexes blot Base dunghill bird nere sprong of Gentle blood Vile is thy mind but viler be thy lot That mak'st earths drosse the soueraigne of thy good To cause men curse thee and to pittie me Thus doe I rate thy god if golde be he Heauen-skorned mould base skin of barren earth Springing in Caues where death and darknes dwell A monstrous mettall proued by thy birth Since men diue for thee halfe way downe to hell O cursed engine of light hating euill Fauourd of men but found out by the deuill O sacred thirst of golde what canst thou not Sinnes chiefest agent enemy to good Thou thou art sought to pay fond Pleasures shot Yet often found with losse of dearest blood Some termes thee gylt that euery soule might reede Euen in thy name thy guilt is great indeede Guiltie thou art of Murther Rape and Theft Guiltie of Briberie and subornation Guiltie of Treason Periurie and shift An accessarie by thy slie temptation To all sinnes past and all that are to come From Adams downefall to the day of doome Mishapen mettall smooth-fac'd Hypocrite Whose golden splendoure masketh mortall eyes Moth of the minde false slaue to false delight A diuell lurking in a strange disguise What is thy lustre when it shines most bright But Sathan clothed in an Angels light The want of thee is cause I want my blisse For whither flye the Gnats but to the Sunne The Swallow still repaires where Sommer is And womens hearts with heapes of gifts are wonne So dunghill wormes must catch the finest fish Else man shall neuer traine him to his dish Through thee one kingdome swelleth gainst another The Father butcherd often by his Sonne The Daughter giues a pasport to the Mother Fearing that else her daies would nere be done Through thee each murthring Roscius is appointed To act strang scenes of death on Gods annointed For thee the Merchant leaues his countries shore Wife Children Parents and what else is deare His heart presaging nere to see them more Such are the circumstances of his feare The waues the winds the rocks the cruell foe Consort in one to worke his ouerthrow But all the dangers of his wils obtaining Fright not this fondling from the sweets of gaine Nor weake-built hopes perswade him to abstaining When gold 's proposd the guerdon of his paine Thus Syren-like thou trainst him to the deepe Where waues oft lull him in his latest sleepe T' is thou false hell-hound right corrupting coyne That makst poore Souldiers needy bare disgraced While greedy guides their stipends doe purloyne And martiall discipline stands quite defaced O manners times O world-declyning daies Where might is right and men do what they please When spend-thrift Iohn that goodly gentleman Hath swallow'd Lordships downe his dainty throte And brought his Fathers fortunes in the wane By gadding Cities in a silken Coate Then to some friend doth Lusty-blood complaine him His Bank-rupt birth-right cā no more maintain him A man he is and Hector was no more Then why not Captaine too as Hector was Besides it is not as in times before When mens deserts were viewd in Vertues glasse A man may compasse wonders with a gift Then why not this Distresse will haue a shift Thus plotts he meanes to get a prettie traine Pretending honour and his Countries cause And then he musters vp each simple Swaine Himselfe not knowing Armes nor Martiall lawes He stalkes the streets as who say This is hee I meane that first will teach his men to flee Vnto this Captaine flocke both young and old He buies his seruant out and he his sonne O monstrous times when men are bought and sold Who goe vnransom'd thinkes himselfe vndone For what great hope or comfort can he finde That maketh one where blinde do leade the blinde The raskall remnant of these sillie men Are summond speedily by sound of dromme And Skapt-thrift wishes euery one were ten Of greater number greater gaines will come Well on they march and still he steales a bite To feede his auaritious appetite This tuch and goe sets all his teeth on edge He 'le be no Tantalus amid such treasure A thousand lawes the Lyon can alleadge To pray vpon poore Asses at his pleasure Yet pollicie perswades him to forbeare them Till far frō home the Wolfe may boldly teare them No sooner are their trauailes at an end But fresh afflictions full as fast beginning Yet sillie Lambes they deeme the Foxe a friend They shrinke no dog vntill they see him grinning They little thinke the end of his conduction Is wealth honour bought with their destruction This Iudas set in Councell with himselfe Not how to foyle his foe and win the field No no he gapes for gaine and rusting pelfe No palme he seekes but that doth profit yeeld Saies When the yron's hot is chiefest striking Tyme serues my turne and bids me doe my liking What long before was plotted in his head The Monster prosecutes to this effect He purseth all the pay of those are dead The diuell needes no councell to direct He that could bring himselfe to beggars plight Knowes how to rob another of his right This done he monthly minceth small their paye Sings Nunc dimittimus to halfe his Band The rest must liue on pillage and on praye Such as they seaze from Boores vpon the land Who best bestirres him for his Princes paie Takes halfe in hand the rest at latter daie O spightfull spectacle who could behold thee That frightst my senses in th' imagination While to my selfe my selfe doe thus vnfold thee How am I rauished with indignation Those that to mount by others fall haue sought O might their heads moūt higher thē their thought As he that trauailes in an vncouth wood Fraught with those Fortunes which his father left Is sodainly surpriz'd by Robin Hood And in a theeues name there receiues his shrift So stand these sillie soldiers at a bay Robd of their hire and basely sent away Poore playning Prodigalls now must they wend Backe to their countrey with remorse and shame But wher 's the feasting Father or a friend To welcome home his sonne forgiue his blame Alas our yron age will not afford it What help the poore the Deuill
still abhorrd it Yet some there be that of a holy motion To harbor strangers lodge them in the Cage And some because that fasting helpes deuotion Denie them foode their hunger to asswage Some whip them for their sins former swaruing More of their curtesie then the Poores deseruing Who right conceits the miseries of Iob His children seruants goods and cattell lost His bodie botched basest ragges his robe His mind with millions of temptations tost Can fittest deeme their griefes true qualitie And sympathize poore Souldiers miserie Hell-damning drosse thou art the fountaine cause Of this iniustice rauen and confusion No man would spurne at dutie God or lawes Had not his heart to thee a false allusion O wracke of soules the diuels adamant Deuouring numbers both by wealth and want The Infant-childe delights to play with golde The young man seekes it to maintaine his pleasure It is the life and Gods-good of the olde All ages deeme it as their dearest treasure Who giues a Rose to gaine a worthles weede We sell for good in shewe our good indeede Witnesse my Mistris now no Mistris mine Who though no Queen hath made King Midas choise For none must plucke the Redrose of her prime But he that gaines her with a golden voyce So young and couetous a ten daies wonder The diuell ioynes and I 'le not put a sunder Say shameles Betresse haue I made thee blush Rating the saint whom thou dost rate so deare Or is thine impudencie growne so flush Thou waighst no credit or thou wilt not heare O if thou bear'st a part of woman kinde Let some relenting pittie pierce thy minde The senseles marble moued with my plaining Wets his pale cheekes and seemes to weepe with me The showres which daily from mine eyes are raining Draw the dum creatures to a sympathie Poore Philomele that sings of rauishment Forgets her tune to listen my complaint If in the woods I breath abroad my woes Each bow doth bend to steale away my tale And still as I her iniuries disclose Great trees for sorrow seeme their tops to vaile Let me but sigh and say She is vnkind Echo replies aloude She is vnkind The strugling flood that still for passage grones Pausing his course and wrapt in admiration Of my laments hart-breaking sighes and mones Sobs out the deskant of my desolation And runnes no more till riuers growing ranke Cause him depart or ouerflowe the banke The vallies rockes and hollow caues resound Bearing the burthen to my wofull dittie My plaints haue power to pierce the stonie ground And moue the sauage Brutes to manly pittie If Rockes and Earth and Beasts bewaile my state O looke on me and be compassionate The heauens as grieu'd locke vp the lightsome day And Phaebus fleeting fayles the world of light Starres change their course and wander all astray The Mayden Moone forgets to shine by night Sham'd that a Maid so shameles should be found Fiercer then Beasts harder then stony ground The heauen-died flowers sweet of spring of the prime That gilde the medowes with their sommers pride Fading as in the frostie winters time Pitying my passions hould their heads aside The Siluan-Satyres in their green-wood-songs Tell how disdaine sits laughing at my wrongs O learne of these slint hearted how to grieue Dumme showes they are yet shew to thee thy dutie They weepe to see thee laughing in thy sleeue Thou laughst to see me snared in thy Beawtie Thinke thy affections dull thy trespasse deepe When trees stones must teach thee how to weepe If so my sorrowes cannot pierce thy hart Yet force a teare and faine to make a plaster Breath sighes as if thou deeply feltst my smart And kisse me to as Iudas kist his Master And when I rage seeme thou withall to tremble It 's hard when I must teach thee to dissemble So shall my selfe enioy thee in conceite And what is Loue but a conceited pleasure Small fishes are content to see the baite While greater sucke the sweet and gaine the treasure Loue in conceit 's a cony-catching play While I feed thoughts he steales the wench away O woe beset vnhappiest man aliue Seeking to wreake my selfe my selfe am wounded Poore snared Byrd for libertie I striue Yet in the trappe still more and more confounded As one that wipes his wound yet still doth bleede So more I speake the worse alas I speede He that with oyle the wilde-fire seekes to quench Or bound a riuer in with banks of sand He that hath lou'd a stony-harted Wench And now with brawling thinks to quench the brand Learne this of me late proued to my paine It 's hard to bayle imprisoned thoughts againe When I sate downe to ease my griefs with plaining I thought my chiefest remedie to rate her Hard words seemd swords to murther loue remaining And deep loue skornd wold make me deadly hate her But while I seeke to quench loues hot desire My wind of words hath blowne a greater fire My time-bred troubles are but now beginning I loue I loth I hate I wish withall My threed is cut and yet the Sisters spinning I liue I dye I stand and now I fall I laughing weepe I hope and yet despaire I say she 's foule and straight I call her faire Hence idle words seruants to shallow braines Vnfruitfull sounds wind-wasting arbitrators Your endles prattle lessens not my paines His suite is cold that makes you mediators Since fates haue made me bankrupt of my blisse My dying life a very torment is In vaine I cauill at her crueltie At gold at eyes at senses and the hart In vaine I spurne against my destinie In vaine I seeke to ease an endles smart No antidote at all can doe me good But the effusion of my harmeles blood Poore hart why tremblest thou at this decree Thy selfe art easd by ending of this life For sorrow kild thou gainest libertie But if I liue thou liuest still in strife Tell life I 'le not a minuts respite giue Since that is lost for which I sought to liue O wretched life what is thy benefite Whose chiefest sportings are calamitie Whose daies are spent in troubles care and spite Whose pleasures sinne whose all is vanitie Whos 's last is short whose strength is but a breath Whose date vnknown whose end is suddaine death O wished death come kill all murdring greeues My soule suruiues in neuer dying feares Which round ingirt me like as many theeues And load my hart with pangues mine eyes with teares If on the earth there may be found a Hell Within my soule her seuerall torments dwell Yet dye I will not till my Testament The briefe contents of discontented mind Writ with my blood into the world be sent Bearing true witnesse to my faire-vnkind That as her loue might once haue made me biest Her skorne hath sheath'd this dagger in my breast My spotted soule to him doe commend In whose compare the heauens are most impure On whose free promises my hopes depend To
Father what I shall disclose How Loue became Disdaines vnhappie thrall And as I story my flint-mouing wrong Weepe thou to beare the burthen to my song Sic incipit Stultorum tragicomedia THree months agoe when Phaebus in his pride Had scal'd hot Cancers sunny-parched cell And Ceres cast her summers greene aside And flowres had chang'd their colour forme and smel When daies were long'st nights were waxen short And yonglings met to wanton and to sport About this time I singled out a day With merry consorts to delight my selfe I thought my ship might sometime roue astray And yet not run her selfe on euery shelfe What Syren plaid but I durst dance her measure Thinking to master Venus sonne at pleasure Fortune who long had ow'd my hap a grudge Summond wild younglings to a sommers drinking To which my merry mates and I did trudge Of such an accident full little thinking Where reuels raigne and dancing holds a day I'ts hard if Acolastus keepe away Well there was I and there was Fortune too Who had prepar'd baite to worke my bane There did I passe a pleasant houre or two In dauncing for the gloues and other gaine There did I gaze against that glorious Sunne By which my heart was fir'd my sight was done O giue me leaue to sigh a little while Before my hell of foule mishap breake loose But let not Fortune see me least she smile And say his mountaine thoughts end in a mouse Oh t' is a burthen that will breake the backe To see ones foe triumphing in his wracke Scarce had the Sunne attain'd his noon-tide pricke Gracing our pastimes with a sommers daie A traine of Ladies trouping very thicke Directly towards vs made their speedy way For want of worse our Musicke drewe them on Pans pype plaies sweete Apollo being gone Looke how astonisht in a qualmy traunce The man that meets a lothsome-visag'd Beare Struck with amazement of this suddaine chaunce Falls to the ground halfe slaine with very feare Within his heart and sences are at strife Past feare of death and yet past hope of life So was I daunted at mine eyes first gazing Sweeping they came and seemd to brush the ground Their tipto-tripping pace bred double mazing Their ratling silkes my senses did confound It seem'd Dianas Nymphes had left her Queene To sport themselues a while vpon this greene Or loue-sicke Venus in a huntresse weede Meaning to seeke Adonis in the wood Mounted vpon a snow-white coloured Steede From Pegasus proude race vaunting his blood Came marching onward with a mayden-pace A thousand Nimphes attending on her grace My mates all rauished with admiration Stood like the men which once Ioues golden sonne By his speares wonder-working Transformation Turn'd into semblance of a sencelesse stone Or as Actaeon standing at a Bay Finding Diana naked in his way Fortune and Loue chose me amongst the rest As sweetest linguist of perswading wit With modest motiues kindly to request These sinfull Saints a little while to sit And see how shepheards spend the holy-day In youth-bred sports and casting Care away Twixt hope and feare I marched on to meet them My rustick blush forbad me to dissemble Met face to face when I was ment to greete them My words were done and euery ioynt did tremble Till my poore heart rebuking much my blame Vntide my tongue and bad me speake for shame More faire and beautifull then were those three That found the golden fruite on Idas plaine Gods Angels Saints or whatsoe're you be Accept the proffer of a simple swaine Draw neere and till the heate of day be spent Looke on and laugh at Shepheards meriment We haue no thing of worth for to present We plead for pardon ere our sport begin Our boldnes springeth from a true intent Which makes an error oftentimes no sin We boast of naught saue that it shall goe hard But our good wils shall purchase your regard These words scarce past the limits of my lippes Sounding a parley to their modest eares A wanton youngling from her fellowes skippes Which like a Comet in my sight appeares Causing my silly wits and me to sunder Infusing me with prophesies of wonder For by this crosse aspect I gather'd well And yet not well because I could not shun it In her faire face my ioyes defac'd to spell My battaile lost before her words begin it For from her eyes a kinde looke did she dart Which through mine eyes diu'd down into my hart A prettie while this prettie creature stoode Before the engin of her thoughts began Seeming to sympathize my heauie moode Pittying my prone lookes and my colour wan Till blushing forth a pure vermilion dye With low-tun'd voice she made me this replie Shepheard we see you are disposde to flatter That frumpe vs with a false-supposed fayre Mens words are Metaphors it makes no matter You know poore women sir are made to beare But since you made so plausible a motion This day we consecrate to your deuotion Mistris quoth I if any take offence My heart makes good the trespasse of my tongue Humanitie full easily can dispence Where loue and zeale are authors of the wrong Good wine desires no bush to set it forth And I too meane to blaze your beauties worth But Ladie if a swaine may be so bold To craue admittance mong'st your other men My selfe will bring you where you shall behold Our rusticke reuels at your ease and when In Thetis lappe the Sunne shall drowne the day I le set you forward in your former way As fares the man conuict of Heresie Whose Iudgement doomes him death by cruell flame The world eye-witnesse of his infamie Bearing a fagot for his further shame Full faintly wending onward to the fier Where selfe opinion shall receiue his hire So marched I before this mayden-trayne Loue swore excuses should not serue my turne Quoth he Thou thinkest me by Reason slaine Thou holdst a false point now recant and burne I cry'd retyre and he inioynd this smart To beare fond fancies fagot in my hart Who so hath seene the tender Mary-gold Spreading her pride against the worlds faire eye But when the sunne his glorie doth infold This prettie Creature shuts and seemes to die So did I loue to gaze vpon my Sunne But when she turnd away my life was done Thus while my sight was surfetting on Beautie We sodainely surpriz'd the bashfull Swaynes Who shewed their harts-ioy by their homely dutie Kissing these louely Ladies for their paynes Seeking all meanes to farther their delight While thus I ruminate on Fortunes spight Inconstant minion mother of mischance True Vertues crosse delighting still in chang When most thou fawn'st thy fauour 's but a glance Thy naughtie nature loueth still to range Great pittie is it were there remedie That men are tyde to thine extremitie Thou art a stepdame to each honest thing Training vp vices like a louing Nurse Crowning the begger pulling downe the king What euer Nature made thou makest worse
groome Whose climing thoughts at last will breake their necke God lieue my hate might helpe to build thy tombe And I suruiue to triumph on thy wracke That when the world shall see thy loue disgraced Men may beware of loue too highly placed What wanton marke of loose immodestie Could'st thou decipher in me all this while Dar'st thou presume to touch a deitie Before she grace thee with a yeelding smile thought Poore foole what starres bewitch thy wretched To fancie her that sets thee so at nought Thou seest my bodie straight as Cedar tree That fames the woods of rich Arabia My browes embost with heauens rich Heraldree Tables containing Beauties perfect lawe Mine eyes two twinkling stars whose piercing raies Haue power to dim the brightest summer daies My face the Sunne-enlightning beauties skye Whose charmefull spels the proudest can controule Loues Adamant to euery wandring eye That like a Syren can inchant the soule The shop where Nature sets her art to showe Where crimson Roses sleepe in beds of snowe Poore foolish flie why plaist thou with the flame Looke not on beautie for it soone will burne thee Shun shun the thought which may procure thy shame The fire once kindled t' is too late to turne thee I am mild Venus mongst gentilitie But fierce Medusa to thy baser eye Thy birth too base for me to beare thy name Thy person nothing hath that may commend thee Thy liuing will not let thee play such game Thy threed-bare loue full little can befriend thee Renounce thy suite roote out these fancies straight Thou art no Atlas for so great a waight Or else in sight of heauen I here protest I loue thee so to liue thy foe till death For could one kinde looke euer make thee blest First would I forced be to yeeld my breath The more thy loue the greater is thy paine I will not stay to heare thee speake againe With this she left the Melancholy place This fatall groue the bed of mine vnrest And backe vnto her fellowes hies a pace Leauing me prostrate heauily distrest Looke how a bright starre shooteth in the night So fast she fled and vanisht from my sight Farewell quoth I sweet Saint of puritie Wonder of women and the worlds admire More was I speaking but it would not be Griefe stopt my dumbe tongue with too much desire That I was forste to sigh insteede of speaking As if my swolne heart were already breaking Then brake th'vnchannel'd issue of mine eyes My teares gaue vent vnto my tired soule Who breath'd hot sighes like lightning from the skye Such is Desire which no man can controule And pining griefe still thinkes it treble wrong When heart is barr'd the aydance of the tongue Thus as a man laid speechles in a traunce Or one resembling deaths anatomie The birds in silence wondring at my chaunce Abruptly ceast their busie harmonie Till some propitious powre to ease my paine Restor'd my sense and thus I cri'd amaine O quis te nostris oculis pulcherrima Virgo Obiecit Deus visam te protinus idem Eripuit nobis saeuo vt consumerer igni Illa meo nunquam facies de pectore abibit Illam vos etiam mecum discetis amare Intonsi montes vos vmbriferae conualles Siue greges inter captabo frigus auram Flumina seu propter salices in valle putabo Aut agitans instabo aliud quodcunque tibi ante Carmina pauca canam te pectore suspirabo Toto vnam te corde priùs dediscet amare Gramina ouis nemora alta ferae vaga flumina pisces Quà m tua de nostris vellatur cura medullis O decus atque animi nostri pergrata voluptas I lookt about if any would replie Griefe best is pleasde with partners in his plaining The Damsell gone I saw no creature nye Saue trees and stones which could not know my meaning To whom shrill Eccho in pittie of my paine Records my woes and tels them o're againe And now the night with darkenes ouer-spred Had drawne her sable curtaines ore the earth And from her cole-blacke melancholy bed Sent foggie mists and filthie vapours foorth When home I went poore haples and forlorne Cursing the day that euer I was borne O blacke Despaire foule lot of faithfull Loue Blasting our hopes ere they begin to bud Whose dogged nature pittie cannot moue Nor ought can pacifie but humane blood A thousand times thou end'st a wretched life Which liues againe to pine in further strife The Nimphes and Satyrs in their ayrie bowres Dansed their Chorus but it would not please me No pastures walkes nor wreath of sweetest flowres No flocks no friends nor no delight could ease me Her doome is past intreatie could not stay it I owe Despaire a death and I must pay it This plot this place this melancholy groue I singled out to lay my Cares to sleepe To end my life and with my life my loue Pitty not me sweet friend forbeare to weepe Death chang'd to life I neuer shall repent That life is dead that liues in discontent Eub The weary Sunne now settles in the West And time permits not speake what I was ment This night I purpose thou shalt be my guest I 'le tell thee things perhaps to thy content And e're our Lambes lye downe to rest to morrow I 'le find a salue to counterpoise thy sorrow