Abradatas his death With gaulling griefe and bitter percing stings But yet hir sorrow made hir stop hir breath Thus death a period to hir tormente brings But this sweete Lady woe hath so possest That she must liue and death may giue no rest No present rest and so no rest at all Death when he came he came but came too late Sorrow before had wroght hir vtter fall Thus had she cause both death and life to hate Death that did stay and do hir so much wrong To linger life that liu'd in death so long By hir Cassandra with hir lolling locks Dissheuerd all vpon hir shoulders lieng With heauie chere hir thought-sore brest she knocks So hard as Eccho is againe replieng A dolfull thump the Temple so did sound And thus she waits hir brother in that stound Ay me she cries I knew this long before That Paris fire must haue a sea to quench it And now I feare the flames will burne so sore As we in time shall neuer liue to stanche it The only spring wherein the vertue lay To slake the fire is dride and dead this day O Hector thou that wert our spring of life Thy death is now the cause of many a spring Fountaines do flowe in euery corner rife Of blubering teares thers now no other thing In Troy but teares since Hector did depart For ah thy death hath causd our endlesse smart I tolde my brother Paris what would fall And that a flame should follow through the seaes At his returne he gaue no heed at all But hoisted saile his fancy he would please He burnt with loue and we shall burne by loue As by thy death I feare poore Troy shall proue Yet hadst thou liu`d alas what booteth had Thou dost not liue and therefore dies my soule Yet while I liue in sable garments clad For thee my brother will I sitte and howle And now I come to beare them company Who went afore in this thy tragedy Then sat she downe hard by hir Sisters side Andromache that did with teares brine The margine fill of Hectors wound so wide By trickling drops distilling from hir eien There did she weepe with hir the King and Queene And next to mourne came in faire Pollicene Alas that virgines should be so distract To spoile sweete faces that are made so pleasing She tore hir golden haire O rufull acte And on hir forhead was hir nailes a seazing The blood ran downe and teares ore-tooke the same And both gusht afresh when she did Hector name Hir tender limmes did tremble as she stood As did Diana when the huntseman spide hir Vnlucky huntseman ranginge in the wood She being naked hauing nought to hide hir Thus did she quake such is a virgines feare To se him dead whome she did hold so deare Shriking she cries alas what shall I doo Hector is dead that was our only stay Troy shall be burnt and I deflowred to The angry Gods conclude our wrack this day For in the stopping of this one mans breath They plainly shew they minace Ilions death Yet gentle Gods vouchsafe a virgines praier Through Cristall skies to pierce your sacred eares O heare my voice my voice my harts-bewraier My hart and voice that are be-duld with teares O heare now heare a pure virgines mones If euer Gods did heare a virgines grones Here haue we Temples builded to your names And with deuotion we doe them adore Our Altars smoke with sweet perfumed flames And on our knees your graces we implore Why are you angry then O Gods with vs That in all dutie reuerence you thus But Reason must not reason with the Gods It is their wil what wil then dare say nay They will the Greekes and Troyans be at ods Vntil poore Troy be brought vnto decay Our incense stinks our sacrifice displease No offring may their kindled ire appease Hector is dead in whom they did delight Hector our sacrifice and incense sweet Who while he liu'd we trusted in his might The Gods still laide the Grecians at his feet Til that their wrath was kindled ouer Troy And then displeasde they tooke from vs our ioy O send him backe faire heau`ns for our defence If that the Gods wil part with such a treasure But ah my praier may breed more offense O keepe him then I know it is your pleasure This is the prayer which I humbly craue That I be laide a virgine in my graue I know the Letcher hopes to haue his will Now that my honours chiefest guard is gone But I with Phillis first my selfe wil kill I le be no pray for him to seaz vpon He slew my brother hopes he now of me No bloudy traytor that shal neuer be Thinkst thou a Virgins pure affection can Admit thee loue that passeth thorough bloud Hast thou by treason slaine so braue a man And by that reason hopst thou so much good As that my hart wil euer yeelde to thee No bloudy traitor it shal neuer be I neuer yet did staine my spotlesse hart By taking comfort in a strangers death And doost thou thinke it were a Sisters part To loue the man that stopt hir brothers breath My brother dearer then my life to me No bloudy traitor it shal neuer be My hand this hand which neuer yet did act Where rigour force or violence might be found Shal rather yeeld to worke a bloudy fact Which yet attempt my tender hart would swound Or in my selfe or else in murdring thee Rather then thou shalt euer ioy in me But yet I know that I am deere to thee I and I know that once I lou'd thee deerely But now my hart hath quite forgotten thee And inlie longs to punish thee seuerely My feruent loue shal now he turnde to hate And once my will shal worke against my fate O Hector how shal I lament for thee When Womens teares are not sufficient strong Let heauen and earth for me auenged be While I bewaile thee in a sighing song I can bewaile thee but while life doth last But if I may I wil when life is past Then with an heauy cheere and downe-cast looke She sat hir downe amidst the mourning crew And to her teares hir selfe she hath betooke At whose approch the rest doe al renew Their doleful shrikes which stinted not before But greater number makes their shriking more A loofe from these did stand in sable weedes For mourning garments fit a mourneful mind A man whose hart and very soule now bleedes To see that Hector was to death assignde And this was Paris brocher of their woe But he to Greece by Heauens instinct did go Venus commanded who could hir denie Had she not giuen me thinkes a man should craue it For such a prize who would not Fortune trie And venture life and goods and al to haue it Nor fire nor water should his passage stay To gaine fruition of so sweet a pray Yet now he mourns for euery sweet hath sower Alasse
their shrines to be saued When in the men is power to giue Vnto some of those Saints whether they liue Or perish through loue but alas men know not When they haue this power and so they do not Giue them their doom women so well dissemble still Well now to loue it was my will And to be lou`d was his harts desire Who said he burnt in loues damned fire Such inward flames did kindle in his brest That so long as I delaid he found no rest This he vowd with protestations And seald with sighs and heauy lamentations Begging at me with great humility That I on him would haue some pitty Else should he alas by loue perish Now did I all this while cherish A greater fire in my heart Loue had in me a bigger part And reason I had on him to haue remorse Who was deeper wounded by the same force For though I smothered in the flame And vnder modesty hid the same As in deede so we ought to proue Whether men dissemble or truly loue Yet at last it burnt so strong None can hide fire long That will by his light it selfe discouer That I was compelled to tell my louer That now I lou'd as well as he Here need no recitall be Of our great ioy there was no tarrying To hinder vs now from our marrying Both vvhose hearts loue had so sharply vvhet That they were only onmariage set To try the knot of ioy and pleasure The bond of loue the louers treasure But novv I vvill omit the complements The feastings iustings and turnements The maskes banquets and iollities The routs reuels and companies The sights shewes and tragoedies Of state and for mirth the commedies That were at our wedding solemnised These being done it was deuised That I should now away wend With my new husband and my deare frend Into the country where he did then wunne And as it was deuised so was it done And with him did I liue a happy wife About twenty yeares during his life But when we had liu`d together so long O here begins my wofull song In all delight and honest pleasure Tasting of ioy in a full measure In this the highest of my blisse By death away he taken is He whom I did loue so dearely My stay my ioy my comfort merely Alas what neede I tell the monings The teares the griefes and the wofull wailings That then I haue most inly conceaued When Death from me hath him bereaued O let them iudge that know the like What seuerall torments their soules do strike Alas I die to thinke thereon With that hir speach was from hir gone She weps and wails and often to death swound Falling with hir face plat vpon the ground She is with sorrovv so vvoe-begone As one that ment to die anone But that ne may endure hir kinde Then doth she hir sences againe find Through that small aide that I could lend hir In such a case vvho could not but befrend hir And after thus telleth on hir vvofull story Ay me she sayes hovv could I be but sory From him that vvas so deare to part For loue and frendship make the knot in the heart When brotherhood knits but in the bloud Therefore I hold it oft more good And lesser griefe some brother to forgo Then a faithful friend but alas what shal I doe That haue lost both a friend and a brother That was to me both the one and the other My husband my rocke my chiefest piller My hope my ioy my dearest wel-willer But yet alack this is not all Such torments oft to others fall By death to lose their husbands companie And such as were their chiefe felicitie Many before me so haue done * And for example take Andromach for one What were hir tortures when she hir Lord lost How vvas Penelope in sorrowes seas tost While hir Vlisses floted on the maine Longing to see him at Ithica againe Yet might not enjoy him of long time nor tide But alasse hir sorrow vvas smal to abide * Now vvas al this but the step to my woes The keie of care the ground-worke of sorrowes The feareful entrance to a further danger The bloudy herald of more cruell anger What should I say the messenger of death O heer 's my griefe now stops my breath Here is the cause of my calamitie And the verie floud-gate opening to miserie O staie a vvhile I cannot yet speake Then did she sigh as if hir hart would breake Watering the furrows of hir wrinckled face With teares that she shovvred dovvne apace Wringing hir hands and cursing cruel time That thus had changed since hir flowring prime But then she cleered from that drooping raine And gastlie cries anew this was my deadly paine To see my children weepe and mone Which he left vnto me alone To see them in such pitious state Mourning to me and I disconsolate * Alas he left me children three Children distrest and mother in miserie For father dead and husband gone Yet doe the yongest not onlie mone For death of their father but for he vnkind Had them no dearer in his mind They waile his death lament their own estate I weepe for both we al curse cruell fate For now ere he died by will he gaue That Maximio the eldest should al haue So was he called that was my first-borne But the other two hath he left forlorne Whereof the one was hight Medalgo And the other was ycleped Iunio. Only he stil reseru`d my portion For it was my ioynter by condition Ne could he that dispose awaie But for the yonger he left slender staie Little he gaue to them God knowes A poore pention he bestowes An annual rent of fiue pounds charge And yet he thought it ouer large To burden his house with such a pay Alas alas now may they wel say What booteth vs our birth or our bloud What doth gentilitie doe vs good What are we better then the base Seing Nature and Fortune thus vs disgrace O the great follio of Albions fond custome Iudge austere O most vnequall doome Yet had Maximio still beene liuing But fates after his father soone wrought his ending Their wants by his bountie had beene supplied For to his hart they were so nighe tied That they ne might aske what he would not giue But he eke is dead and his sonne doth liue His sonne fostred among his mothers kin Of whom they must now first begin To insinuate acquaintance if they would ought haue And yet aske and goe without they say they must saue For the yong infant Maximios sonne But alasse vvhy had fate Maximio done To fell death so suddenlie That he ne had his memorie To doe for his brothers as nature would And as indeed their father should Had he remembred Natures right Thus on a sudden changed was my light My glorious shining and my summers daie Is now gone downe and drencht in the sea It setteth with the sun but neuer may arise For now alasse doth
THE Lamentation of Troy for the death of Hector Wherevnto is annexed an Olde womans Tale in hir solitarie Cell Omne gerendum leue est LONDON Printed by Peter Short for William Mattes 1594 To the Right Honorable Sir Peregrin Bartue knight Lord of Willoughby and Earsby al increase of Honor and true happinesse I Haue presumed Right honourable vpon these three reasons to present this vnworthy pamphlet vnto your honors courteous view and fauourable protection The first is from your own noble worthinesse for that you are and are so thought the onely Hector of Albion and therfore most worthy to protect Hector The second for that it was the wil and desire of the Ghost of the woful Ghost of Ilion that in hir teares you might behold the sorrows of your owne countrey whensoeuer iniurious fates shoulde cause you miscarrie The third and last is my good Lord mine owne priuate affection wherein I haue long honoured you and hauing no place to make it knowne haue long desired to finde some opportunitie to shew the same I hope your Lordship will pardon me for that affection is a most veniall offence And if heerein I doe not honour your Lordship so much as you are worthy and I earnestlie wish yet please it you to fauour and pardon this first and as time and yeares shall enable me with a more experienced iudgement and knowledge I will studie and endeuour that which shal be more worthy your honours fauourable protection Please it you accept and I am graced and my labour richly rewarded I cease to trouble your Lordship further at this time I vow my selfe to your Lordships seruice and so most humbly take my leaue Your Honours humbly at command I. O. The Prologue WHilom to him whom Morpheus God of sleepe Made slumbring dreames his sences al to keepe Lockt in the prison of the darke some night When eares were deafe and eyes could see no light When men are made the liuely forme of death Saue onely that they softly draw a breath Did come a Ghost a ghost most gastly crying Helpe me to death that haue so long beene dying With that he wakened and with feare beholding Saw hir lament her armes togither folding A pale-wan thing and yet with wounds fresh bleeding Sodden in teares in teares that were exceeding He much afright began to shrinke for feare She bad him feare not but my story heare I am Troys ghost that now appeares to thee And well I know that thou hast heard of me But now I come not what I was to tell For what I was alas each one knowes wel I come to thee to craue thy gentle ayde To further her that hath so long beene staide From blissefull rest because I haue not told My woes for Hector which I must vnfold But that alasse am I not able euer To shew alone without the kind endeuor Of some good wight that can bewaile with me And tell my tale while I shall weeping be The churlish Charon thwarts my passage ouer Saying my soule shal neuer blisse recouer Till I haue doone this weary taske imposed Neuer my ghost shal be in rest reposed O helpe me then to tell my doleful story That I at last may cease to be so sory First will I speake and to the world declare For Hectors death mine euerlasting care So long til teares doe stop my faltring tong And when I cease I pray thee tell along He then accorded to hir pitteous sute Granting to speake when teares did make hir mute So that she would lay open to his eies The cause and manner of hir wofull cries Then forth with causde she vnto him appeare The forme of Troy the persons that were there Chiefest mourners for worthy Hectors death As they then wailde when fates new stopt his breath He then emboldende stoutly veiwd them all And tels her tale when she from speach doth fall Writing their words vnto the world to shew them It was her will that he might so renew them Yet had she rather Spencer would haue told them For him she calde that he would helpe t' vnfold them But when she saw he came not at hir call She kept hir first man that doth shew them all All that he could but all can no man shew But first she spake as after doth ensew Troys Lamentation for the death of Hector LO here the teares and sad complaint of her Within whose gates all ioyes were once abounding Faire Ilions teares whose deepe laments may stir A flintie hart vnto a sigh-resounding Yet for hir selfe doth Ilion not mone But for hir Hector which is dead and gone Sweet sacred Muses you whose gentle eares Are wont to listen to the humble praier Of plaining Poets and to lend your teares From your faire eies vnto a woes-displayer Now rest your selues your ayde I not implore For in my selfe I finde aboundant store Nor can I craue vpon your blubbered cheeks That you for me more showers should be raining Though you are kind to euery one that seekes Yet haue you matter for your owne complaining I saw your teares and pittifull wamentings But they are few that list to your lamentings Good naturde Nymphs you are too milde for me Troy tels of horror and of driery things Let your faire ayde in Loue and Musick be Or in his tongue which pleasant Poems sings Furies and Frensies are fit companie To helpe to blase my wofull tragedie The damned Soules that liue in lasting paine Whose endlesse torments force them to be yelling Sounds euer balefull and whose bane againe Is that in torture they are euer dwelling Their sighes and shrikes accompanie full well My trembling toong this greeuous tale to tell Snake-wreath'd Alecto and Megaera railing Howling Tisiphon euermore lamenting With all that vgly is or else still wailing Their cursed haps and are deepe hell frequenting Such as breath sulphur in eternal groning They are companions fitting to my moning Stone rowling Sisiphus in his wearie taske And thirstie Tantalus in his riuer biding And wofull Yxyon al these might I aske To be with shrikes my drery penne a guiding But I my selfe suffice without assistance If soules effusion be sufficient greeuance Hector thou knowst or else thy soule doth know For thou alas art Hector now no more Haue Troy ten thousand soules she will bestow Them all on thee and powre them out before The throne of Ioue for mercy euer calling For ah thy ruine was our vtter falling But why alas must thou needs die so soone Troys cheefe-supporter and the worlds great-wonder O let the man that thee to death hath doone From deaths fel torments neare be seene asunder O let him euer die yet not be slaine But when he would be dead reuiue againe Heape on him torments and ore-whelme with woes Hels Queene Proserpina this I begge of thee And if there be some wights thou countst thy foes O with those plagude ones let him placed be Or if there be a place that 's worse than hel Grant
beautie crauing stood And yet thy hand hath not from murther staid Curst be thy sire thy selfe to death be done Ye kilde a king a Virgin and his sonne Then did she goe to Hector where he lay Weeping vpon him in excessiue raine And with her angels voice she gan to say Hector sweet Hector O reuiue againe With that me thought I saw him heaue his head She shrikt for ioy but he againe was dead Iniurious Parcae huswiues of mans life That spin the threads and cut them off at pleasure O Atropos why did thy fatal knife Cut off from Troy so rich and great a treasure And Lachesis why didst not thou still spin Sweet Hectors life that euer should begin But all iniurious fraught with cruel spight Ye shortned haue this worthy Hectors daies Why doe you not restore his eies to light Now that the voice of such an angell prayes O were you men and had the power to giue At Helens praier Hector needes should liue Could trees and stones in Orpheus tunes reioice Was he so pleasing and dumbe things so witty And shall an heauenlie grace with humble voice Beg at your graces and you shew no pittie But now your power is not life to restore Yet wast your powre t' haue let him liu'd afore But ah the passions that she then indured When false illusion did deceaue hir sight Of Hectors life hir selfe she halfe assured When he God knowes slept in eternal night Then was her greefe far greater than before And hope deluded made hir torment more Like to a Sayler beaten on the seas With boisterous tempests and outragious stormes Long wishing land for his reposed ease That spies by chance some earth-betokning formes And makes amaine to them with speedie course Hoping to find for sorrowe some remorse But when he comes to his desired ken And there doth find nor show nor signe of land O sillie man how is he greeued then That euer hope did beare him so in hand Then fals his hope he vnder hatches goes Leauing his life to Neptune to dispose Thus was she tost the sweetest soule aliue Billoes of water beate within hir breast No Phoebus saire the vapors dark may driue From that sweet Sphere whereon they were possest Sorrow it selfe I thinke did loue hir so That euen for loue t was loth awaie to goe For when she spake at length she gan to speake Things that are violent may not alway last With greefe and dolour did hir silence breake And euerie word of sorrowe had a tast Then in the anguish of an heauie hart To Hector thus hir mind she did impart Hector quoth she O thou that wert our staie More are the cares which I for thee sustaine Then were the woes of faithful Iulia Though for hir Lords loue she hir selfe hath slaine Yet can I neuer be sufficient sorie Seing thee dead that wert our only glorie Glory of Troy and wonder of the World Gem of true Nobles knight-hoods full suffisance Ah why hath Fortune now hir wheele so hurld To throw thee downe that wert our whole assurance While thou didst liue I anchored in thy might Now Hectors dead who shal for Helen fight Woes me alas this day the Fates conspire To worke my ruine and my endlesse vvoe Novv shall the Greekes enioy their full desire And I vvith home-spun Menalay shal goe Eyther to be vvith him a loathed vvife Or else haue iudgement here to lose my life Hard is the Laborinth that I labour in Deadly the drift that I am driuen to If I goe backe al Greece derides my sinne If here I stay I die that 's better tho Better to die a thousand deathes and more Then liue contemnd who honourd was before Yet wil my Paris fight in my defence So hath he vow'd for me and Hectors sake Achilles treason wil he recompence Or else such hurly-burly will he make As wel the Greeks his vengeance great shall know Thus in a furie did my Paris vow But ah my loue leaue off that resolution Troylus and Deiphobus shal fight for thee Worke not at once my whole confusion Stay thou at home and helpe to comfort me For if that thou shouldst eke by chance miscarry What were the greefes that in my hart would tarry The sweet yong Troilus that is yonder mourning To whom thou art and Hector was so deere Shal for you both with puissant hand be turning His hardie foes vnto a daunted feare He shal reuengement for my Paris make Which thou didst vow to doe for Hectors sake Then did she fly to Paris as he went Throwing hir Iuorie armes about his neck Criyng the hower of hir life was spent If vnto hir he had not due respect O stay with me and if thou needs must die We le die togither and togither lie But he whom now both loue and wrath had sworne To be reuenged for his brothers death These faire perswasions seemde to hold in scorne Although she praid him that was as the breath Of life to him his vow he would not misse He thus resolu`d they parted with a kisse A kisse sweete kisse for she did stay so long Hanging vpon him cleauing to his brest Sucking his lippes breathing in amoung His sigh-burnt lunges an aire that made them blest So neuer any had attaind such blisse Had not salt teares been mingled with that kisse Then to hir mourning did she fall anew Weeping for Hector and for Paris praieng This twofolde griefe so chang`d hir rosy hew That glorious beautie seemd to be decaying But that it might not part from such a place No more then`t could from morning Stellaes face Yet was she chang`d whom doth not sorrow breake The sweetest flowers soonest are a fading Beautie is mightie yet hir strength but weake If heauie care do once become hir lading Hir vertue strong triumphing ouer all Hir substance though most subiect vnto fall The meagre palenes of that fretfull worme Sitteth so nere to each true mourners skin That she that whilom was of lusty forme Through sorrowes anger looketh now but thin Thus Helen faire Helen began to fade On whom the Gods the Sunne of beauty laid Sooner doth fall the Rose then doth the Nettle The huswiues cloth out-lasts the silken twine The brier brags when goodly Oakes do settle Phoebus goes downe before that Cinthia shine Thing`s of esteem do fall when worse are stayd So Helen faire Helen began to fade Alas that Hector is not liuing still That Helens beautie might haue florisht euer O if such worthies must death rites fulfill And neither forme nor strength may them deliuer Why do so many men in these daies Horde vp such treasure and such buildings raise They make their houses like to goodly townes Proud stately turrets menacing the starres They do not know that fortune sometime frownes How ancient Citties are defac`d by warres Poore Troy and Verlam can declare of olde That fame doth lie in neither stones nor gould Nor do they thinke they can liue euer here
Hector and Helen shew that cannot be Why do they then such mightie buildings reare Making in clay their liues aeternitie Knowing not when they can no longer last Fame dies with them and honour all doth wast Then let him liue for euer and in honour Riding triumphant in fames golden Carre That holdes the pen and sword so high in fauour And by his bounty guerdons both so farre As when the pen hath regestred his fame The sword hath sworne for ay to guard the same O let that man for euer be adornd Build him a temple on Pernassus hill Sing of him muses whom he neuer scornd Sound war like trumpets with his glory fill The empty aire together blase his fame That loues you both O euer praise his name But now is Helen weeping all this while No worlds delight can make hir leaue lamenting Hir hart of griefe is now become an Anuile Sorrow doth bed and sighs are still tormenting Then in plunges of a pained sprite She sayd to Hector thus and bad me write Ay me sweete Hector how am I tormented The fulnes of wrath is powrd downe on me If euer womans state was yet lamented Mine may be waild that now bevvaileth thee O might I die I should heauens ire fulfill But now they make me liue to plague me still They make me liue to see sweet Hector dead This is the torment wherewithall they greeue me A greater plague could not hang ore my head And that they knew for nothing can releeue me Vnlesse they will restore thy life againe Whom they in anger haue vntimely slaine But ah they did it for my lasting paine Framing a torture to endure for euer This was procurde by Iunos iel`ous braine Who works my woe by strength of great endeuour Only bycause she went without the ball That Venus got thus doth she plague vs all And now thou dearling of the world most deare By thee it is she works hir high despight Stopping the passage of those beamys cleare By which thy life did lend thine eies their light Then giuing out in hir hate most enuious That Helen was cause to make me odious Thus doe I liue of all the world despisde The Troyans harts doe inwardlie repine And though their formes be outwardlie misguisde Their thoughts perswade them that the fault was mine That this our flower our piller and our staie Did fade did fall through death did flit away But Hector now I doe appeale to thee And vnto witnesse doe I call thy ghost If thou vvert not as dearelie lou'de of me As of the wight that could affect thee most While thou didst liue I lou'd thy vertues euer And since thy death my hart al ioyes doth seuer O speake Andromach and Hecuba speake How did my soule it selfe to sorrow yeeld When we with him in weeping tearmes did breake Touching the dreame diswading him the field How did poore Helen his life then beg with you As with your selues his death she vvaileth now For who alasse hath greater cause to mourne And in continuall teares lament his death Streaming a tide that neuer doth returne Then she to whom his life vvas liuing breath For though through Troy a deadly smart be found Yet mine is most who neerlie seeks the wound The Gods conspirde it vvas not Helens fault That Hector dies or if that Troy shall burne Iuno from heauen poore Ilion doth assault And all hir force against it doth she turne Who warres vvith Gods and comes not to the worst Then Iunos cause that Troy decayeth first Venus besides commaunded me to come And sent hir Cupid to prepare the vvay Then how vniustlie am I blamde by some Saying Helen the vvhore wrought Troys decay For if the Gods decreed it thus before It vvas their vvils and Helen is no whore But vvho vvould think that heauens should malice bear That their perfection should admit of anger An ouglie forme ingendring gastlie feare A monster foule presaging nought but danger Who vvould suppose so huge vile a beast To lie and harbour in a Goddesse brest Yet this did Iuno foster in hir lap Iuno vniust both vnto Troy and me And in hir mallice hath she laid a trap How Troy should perish and I torturde be Which both are done by cutting Hector short Troys onlie Castle Helens chiefest fort With that she vveeping wrung hir hands and cride Hector O Hector this was all she said Then did she seat hir by hir sisters side Where still she vveepes but then hir speech was staide Sorrovve forst silence griefe ore-came hir hart And thus a saint did act an hellish part The Troyan Nobles all lamented there In sable garments fitting to their woe Deiphobus and Troylus with a heauie cheere For Hectors death doe wander to and fro The people too doe make a dolefull noise And call on Hector iointly in one voice Hector O Hector from a troubled spirit They crie amaine as if they would him pull From death to life and bring his eies to light Which now was sunke into his hollovv scul Hector O Hector Hector thus they crie Who being dead they all do seeme to die Then doe they vvalke all mal-content about From place to place not knovving where to rest Sometime they stand and giue a monstrous shout Like to the yell of a many-headed beast And then returne to Hector vvhere he lies The men in grones the Women in outcries Like to the kinde and louing naturde Bees That swarme togither if but one be greeued Which leaues his hiue and seeketh hollovv trees They fly with him and looke he be releeued Humming they mourne as if they felt his greefe So they can sorrow but lend no releefe Then as a Ram that doeth retire back To make returne with greater violent force So wil these folks their cries outragious slacke And go lamenting still from Hectors corse Till by and by they will returne againe Shriking in teares like thunderclaps in raine Or like the billovv beating on the shore That fals off gentlie making little noise But when he comes againe doth rage so sore As men far off may heare his raging voice Swelling vvith fome through Aeolus puffing pride So do they yell when they 're by Hectors side They vveep they waile they mourn they fret with anger They sweare they vow reuenge for Hectors sake Their harts are boldned through their present danger Although for greefe they driery wailings make Thus al amasde they wander to and fro His life did please his death did irke them so They curse Achilles in this bitter rage They frowne they grin their teeth they sternly whet Like desperate men they say nought shal asswage Their ire but bloud on bloud they al are set But why do we Achilles name They say Which heauens pollutes darks the brightsom day Alas poore Troy what wight can ere bewaile And not lacke words to write thy great lamentings To tell thy vvoes euen Ieremie might faile That writ so well Ierusalems wamentings For who can
Fortune so deuise She that neuer did well for me But still did thwart my felicitie For novv is my liuing gone to another name That gouerne the childe and enioy the same Onlie I haue a portion small To maintaine me and my tvvo boies vvithal An hundred pound yeerelie so long as I liue But now I ne might it sell nor giue It must teturne from whence it came And all must glorifie the name I meane the eldest of the house When the Dutch are drunke they say thei le carouse And where is enough there England giues more But now to returne where I was afore My husband and Maximio are now both awaie tane By cruell death as thou hast heard me sayen And thus was I left then in miserie With my two yong sonnes to keepe me companie They liu`d on me so long as I could giue them what mother sees hir children want not releeue them But alas suppose I had died next day After their father was taken away As death might haue done had it been his pleasure for he neuer keepes times houres nor measure What should my children then haue done Alas that they had is spentful soone It is not fitting to their calling But yet heare more of my wofull falling Heare now heare vvhat more befel * We did not aboue fiue years togither dwel I and my sonnes in whom was my delight But see now of Fortune the dogged spight For she now hath made a breach and partition Twixt my daughter in law me hath she sown diuision Twixt me and hir friends that now they endeuor To worke my ouerthrovv quite and for euer And now mine ovvn kinred would not me back When one is in need friends oft are most slacke And if that Fortune once doe frowne Rather then support thee they`l help thee down But if so be of them you haue no need They are most kinde and louing indeed Whom Fortune fauours they shal haue friends And friendship for most part with riches blends Pouerty is burdensom though he be of bloud It is no policie to doe him good For now vve must square al by policie Fie vpon this olde releeuing charitie They doe abandon't it smels of poperie Thus doth preuaile this nevv-brocht fopperie Out of a vessel that seemeth pure Charitie novv there is none sure But that vvhich in hir kind discretion For hir selfe only makes prouision Or else so vvel can hir almes bestow As for one gift they must receiue two Friends looke aloofe when one is poore But now I come where I was afore They strine I say and seeke all they may To procure my fall and vtter decaie And now alasse haue they found the meane To ruinate me quite and cleane Which in their high indignation They doe fulfill to my confusion For now haue they sought among the writinges Both new scrowles and old indightings Which my husband left behind And novv alas doe they finde My iointure to be but slenderlie conueid My iointure on which my sons and I both staid They trauerse the Lavv and Lavv dooth assure It is at their wil if my liuelood endure Who vvere the heires vnto the land Alas that it so ticcle should stand Alas that a kind husband his vvife shuld so leaue Alas that Maximio did not giue A better assurance while he was liuing But good yong man I thinke he knew nothing That my state was so ticle for he nere pervsed These papers wherein I was thus abused And thus on me O cruel thing My sorrovves togither doe they bring For looke what lavv affoorded in extremitie That haue they performed in all seueritie Leauing me nothing nor my children neither O Fortune hovv art thou like the vveather That is novv faire and anon foule For a short smile how long doest thou scovvle Alas thou art most pleased in euil dooing Ne doost thou delight in any good thing But sure I may saie of thee now As the good-wife vvont saie of hir cow That gaue a messe of milke new and soot And when she had done threw`t down with hir foot Thy ioy is most in an euill turne And then thou laughtst when thou makst others mourn For making one poore Abdolomine a king How many doest thou to low estate bring In wicked works is thy glorie euer But why doe I against thee perseuer Alas Englands custome workes my vvoe And custome of England doth me vndoe For though my husband to me was kind Yet wise men are often blind And led awaie with a fond antiquitie Alas that wise men should not see Nor Nature make them to haue remorce Why doe men doe against Natures force I doe not now for my selfe complaine But for my yonger sonnes twaine Alasse my yongest were as deere to me As was Maximio why should they then not be As deare to him as was Maximio And yet this sure I would haue thee know That I would haue a difference made So that the eldest should not vpbraide The yonger of beggerie Nor that the yonger should on him relie * Let the yongest haue portions to keepe them like men Fitting their birth and calling and then That the honour and chiefe liuing go to him might That is the first-borne as is his right But now hath he giuen all to Maximio What did he thinke that I did aside go Or beget he the rest for lusts suffisance After he had one borne to his inheritance Why do men of their yong sonnes no more reckoning make But o fowle custome it is for thy sake Men are so giuen to memorise their name And oft in so dooing they procure their shame As by and by thou shalt vnderstand But O vile custome only proper to this land For if it be as I haue heard say Nor Fraunce nor Flaunders take this way Neither doth Italy so nor Spaine Only in England it doth remaine And yet in the best gouernd part of this lond I mean in the famoust cittie of all Albion The politicke Citizens do so prouide That the yonger Sonnes shall not stand in neede Of the elder though they giue him the land That they buie in the country through their industrious hand Only our Gentlemen keepe this order Whereby doth rise this great disorder That many Clownes do here become gentlemen Who scrape and scratch for their Sonnes and then Send them forsooth to an Inne of Court Where the sonne of a Gentleman hath report When his father goodman will driue the plow And his mother milke and serue the Sow Thus doth the franklin in England rise And the base-borne Brat doth the gentleman despise By reason their fathers leaue them so poore And that is his shame that I tolde thee of afore * But marke now and thou shalt see euen by my sonne What this vile custome in England hath donne But in other countries they seeme more wise The Hog in his owne dunglies They keepe the Pesant vnder and the Kerne They do so well of their kinde discerne The Bore