A CROVVNE GARLAND OF GOVLDEN ROSES Gathered out of Englands royall garden Being the liues and strange fortunes of many great personages of this Land Set forth in many pleasant new songs and sonetts neuer before imprinted By Richard Iohnson AT LONDON Printed by G. Eld for Iohn Wright and are to be sold at his shop at Christ Church gate 1612 A PRINCELY SONG made of the Red Rose and together by king Henry the seauenth and Elizabeth Plantaginet daughter to Edward the fourth from whom our now Soueraigne Lord King Iames linnially descended To the tune of when Flying fame WHen Yorke and Lankaster made war within this famous land The liues of Englands royall péeres did in much danger stand Seauen English Kings in bloody feelds for Englands crowne did fight In which their heires were all but twaine of liues bereaued quight Then thirty thousand Englishmen were in one battle slaine Yet could not all this English blood a setled peace obtaine For fathers kind their déere sonnes killd and sonnes their fathers slew Yea kindreds fought against their kind and not each others knew At last by Henries lawfull claime this wasting warre had end For Englands peace he soone restord and did the same defend For Tyrant Richard namd the third chiefe bréeder of this woe By him was slaine neare Leaster towne as cronicles doc show All feares of warre he thus exild which ioyd each Englishman And daies of long desired peace within the land began He ruld his Kingdome by true loue to theire his subiects liues For euery one had dayly ioy and comfort of their wines King Henry had such princely care our further peace to frame Tooke faire Elizabeth to wife that gallant Yorkest dame Fourth Edwards daughter blest of God to scape King Richards spight Was thus made Englands peareles Quéene and Henries hearts delight Thus Henry first of Tudors name and last of Lankaster With Yorkes right heire a true-loues knot did linke and tie full fast Renowned Yorke the White Rose gaue braue Lankaster the Red By wedlocke here conioynd to grow both in one princely bed These Roses sprang and budded faire and carried such a grace That Kings of England in their armes affords them worthy place And florish may these Roses long that all the world may tell The owner of these princely flowers in vertues doe excell To glorifie these Roses more King Henry and his Quéene First plac'd their pictures in red gold most gorgrous so be séene The Kings owne gard now weares the same vpon their backes and brest Where loue and loyalty remaines and euer-more shall rest The Red Rose on the backe is plast thereon a crowne of gold The White Rose on the brest as braue and costly to behold Bedeckt most rich with siluer stues on cotes of Scarlet red A blushing hew which Englands same now many a yeare hath bred Thus Tudor and Plantaginet these honors first deuized To well-come long desired peace with vs so dearely prized A peace that now maintayned is by Iames our royall King For peacobrings plenty to the land with euery blessed thing To speake againe of Henries praise his Princely liberall hand Gaue guifts and graces many waies vnto this famous land For which the Lord him blessings sent and multiplied his store In that he left more wealth to vs then any any King before For first his swéet and louely Quéene a ioy aboue the rest Brought him both sonnes and daughters faire to make this kingdome blest The royall blood that was at ebb so increased by this Quéene That Englands heires vnto this day doe florish faire and gréene The first faire blessing of his séede was Arthur prince of Wales Whose vertues to the Spanish court quite ore the Ocean sayles There Ferdinand the King of Spaine his daughter Katherne gaue For wife vnto the English Prince a thing that God would haue Yet Arthur in his lofty youth and blooming time of age Submitted méekely his swéet life to deaths impartiall rage Who dying so no issew left the swéet of natures ioy Which compast England round with grief◠and Spaine with sad anoy King Henries second comfort prou'd a Henry of his name In following time eight Henry cald a King of noble fame He conquered Bullen by his sword With many townes in France His manly might and fortitude did Englands fame aduance He Popish Abbies first supprest and Papestry puld downe And bound their lands by parliment vnto his royall crowne He had thrée children by thrée wiues all Princes raining here Edward Mary and Elizabeth a Quéene belou'd most deare These thrée swéet branches bare no frute God no such ioy did send Through which the Kingly Tudors name in England here had end The last Plantaginet that liu'd was nam'd Elizabeth Elisabeth last Tudor was the greatest Quéene of earth Seuenth Henry yet we name againe Whose grace gaue frée consent To haue his daughters married both to Kings of high dessent Margret the eldest of the twaine Was made great Scotlands Quéene As wise as faire as vertuous as eare was Lady séene From which faire Quéene our royall King by lineall course descendeth And rightfully inioyes that crowne Which God now still befrendeth For Tudor and Plantaginet by yéelding vnto death Hath made renowned Stewards name the greatest vpon earth His younger daughter Mary calld as Princely by degrée Was by her father worthy thought the Quéene of France to be And after to the Suffolke Duke was made a noble wise Where-in the famous English court she lead a vertuous life King Henry and his louely Quéene reioyst to sée the day To haue their children thus aduanst with honors euery way Which purchast pleasure and content with many a yeares delight Till sad mischance by cruell death procur'd them both a spight The Quéene that faire and princely damo that mother méeke and mild To ad more number to her ioyes againe grew big with child All which brought comfort to her King against which carefull hower He lodgd his deare kind-hearted Quéene in Londons stately Tower That Tower which prou'd so fatal once to Princes of degrée Prou'd fatall to this noble Quéene for therein died she In child-bed lost she her swéet life her life estéemed so deare Which had béene Englands louing Quéene full many a happy yeare The King herewith pocest with griefe spent many months in moane And dayly sight and said that he like her could find out none Nor none could he in fancy chuse to make his wedrd wise Therefore a widdower would remaine the remnant of his life His after daies be spent in peace and quietnesse of mind Like King and Quéene as these two were the world can hardly find Our King and Queene yet like to them in vertue and true loue Haue heauenly blessings in like sort from heauenly powers aboue A delightfull song of the foure famous feasts of England the one of them ordayned by King Henry the seuenth of the honor of Marchant Taylers shewing how seauen Kings haue bin
Glosters aime did stand Ould Buckingham with might and power in seas of woes did him deuoure He hoped when Richard was made King he would much greater honors bring To Buckingham and to his name and well reward him for the same In Clarence death he had a hand and gainst King Edwards Quéen did stand And to hir sonnes bore little lâ—ue when he as Bastards would them prooue King Edward swore him by his oth in true aledgeance to them both Which if I faile I wish quoth he all Christians curse may light on me It so fell out on All Soules day by law his life was tane away He had his wish though not his will for treasons end is alwaies ill In London hauing pleaded claime and Richard there by won the game He challengd honour for his gaine but was rewarded with disdaine On which disgrace within few houres Great Buckingham had raisd his powers But all in vaine the King was strong and Stafford néeds must suffer wrong His Army faild and durst not stand vpon a Traitors false command Beeing thus deceaued onld Stafford fled not knowing where to hide his head The King with speed to haue him found did offer ful two thousand pound Thus Richard sought to cast him downe whose wit did win him Englands Crowne The plaine old Duke his life to saue of his owne man did succour craue In hope that he would him releiue that late much land to him did giue Base Banester this man was nam'd by this vild déed for euer sham'd It is quoth he a common thing to iniure him that wrongd his King King Edwards children he betraid the like gainst him I will haue plaid Being true my heart him greatly graft but prouing false that loue is past Thus Banester his maister sold vnto his foe for hier of gold But marke his end and rightly see the iust reward of trechery The Duke by law did loose his blood for him he sought to doe most good The man that wrought his Maisters woe by lingring griefe was brought full low For when the King did heare him speake how basely he the Duke did take Instead of gold gaue him disgrace with vanishment from towne and place Thus Banester was forst to beg and craue for food with cap and leg But none to him would bread bestow that to his master proued a foe Thus wandred he in poore estate repenting his misdeed to late Till starued he gaue vp his breath by no man pittied at his death To wofull ends his Children came sore punisht for their fathers shame Within a kennell one was drownd where water scarse could hide the ground Another by the powers diuine was strangely eaten vp of swine The last a wofull ending makes by strangling in a stinking Iakes Let traitors this behold and see and such as false to masters be Let disobedient sonnes draw neere these iudgements wel may touch them néerâ— Both old and young that liue not well looke to be plagu'd by heauen or hell â—o haue you heard the story than of this great Duke of Buckingham The wofull death of Queene Iane Wife to King Henry the eight and how King Edward was cut out of his mothers belly To the tune of the lamentation for the Lord of Essex VVHen as King Henry ruld this land he had a Quéene I vnderstand Lord Semors daughter faire and bright King Henries comfort and delight Yet death by his remorslesse power did blast the bloome of this sweet flower Oh mourne mourne mourn faire Ladies Iane your Quéene the flower of England dies His former Quéenes béeing wrapt in lead This gallant Dame possest his bed Where rightly from her wombe did spring a ioyfull comfort to hir King A welcome blessing to the land preserud by Gods most holy hand Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Queen the flower of England dies The Queen in trauell pained sore full thirty wofull daies and more And no way could deliuered be as euery Lady wisht to see Wherefore the King made greater mone then euer yet his grace had showne Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Queen the flower of England dies Beeing somthing eased in his mind his eyes a slumbring sleepe did find Where dreaming he had lost a rose but which he could not well suppose A ship he had a rose by name oh no it was his royall Iane Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Queen the flower of England dies Being thus perplext in greefe and care a Lady to him did repaire And said oh King shew vs thy will thy Queenes sweet life to saue or spill If she cannot deliuered be yet saue the flower if not the tree Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Quéene the flower of England dies Then downe vppon his tender knée for help from heauen prayed he Meane while into a sleepe they cast his Quéene which euermore did last And opening then her tender woombe aliue they tooke this budding bloome Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Quéen the flower of Englands dead This babe so borne much comfort brought and cheard his fathers drooping thought Prince Edward he was cald by name gracâ—d with vertue wit and fame And when his father left this earth he ruld this land by law full birth Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Quéen the flower of Englands dead But marke the powerfull will of heauen we from this ioy were soone bereauen Sir yeares he raigned in this land and then obeyed Gods command And left his Crowne to Mary heere whose fiue years raigne cost England deare Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Iane your Quéen the flower of Englands deaâ— Elizabeth raigned next to her Europes pride and Englands starre Wonder world foor such a Quéene vnder heauen was neuer seene A mayd a Saint an Angell bright in whom all princes tooke delight Oh mourne mourne mourne faire Ladies Elizabeth the flower of Englands dead A short and sweet sonnet made by one of the maides of honor vpon the death of Queene Elizabeth which she sowed vppon a sampler in red silke To a new tune or to Phillida flouts me GOne is Elizabeth whom we haue lou'd so deare She our kind Mistris was full foure and forty yeare England she gouernd well not to be blamed Flanders sho succord still and Ireland tamed France she befrended Spaine she hath soiled Papists reiected and the Pope spoyled To Princes powerfull to the world vertuous To her foes mercifull to subiects gracious Her soule is in heauen the world keepes her glory Subiects her good deeds and so ends my story The life and death of famous Th. Stukely an English gallant in the time of Queene Elizabeth who ended his dayes in a battaile of Kings in Barbarie To the tune of King Henries going to Bullin IN the west of England borne there was I vnderstand A famous gallant liuing in his dayes by birth a wealthy Clothiers sonne Deeds of wonder he hath done to purchase him a
pure Uirgins bed Behold I am conceau'd with childe To which vile folly you me led for now this déed that I haue wrought Throughout this country well is knowne And to my woâ—ull parents brought Whom now for me do make great mone How shall I looke them in the sace When they my shamelesse selfe shall sée Oh cuâ—sed Eue I séele thy case When thou hadst tasted on the trée Thou hidst thy selfe and so must I But God thy trespasse quickly found The darke may hide me from mans eye But leaue my shame still to abound Wide open are mine eyes to looke Upon my séed and heauy sinne And quite vnclasped is the booke Where my accounts are written in This sinne of mine deserueth death Be Iudge Lord Wigmoore I am shée For I haue tread a strumpets path And for the same I néeds must dye Bespotted with reproachfull shame To ages following shall I bee And in records be writ my blame Lord Wigmoore this is long of thée Lord Wigmoore prostrate at thy féete I craue my iust deserued doome That death may cut off from the roote This body blossom branch and bloome Let modesty accuse this crime Let loue and law and nature speake Was euer any wretch yet seene That in one instant all did breake Then Wigmoore Iustice on me shew That thus consented to this act Giue me my death for death is due To such as sinnes in such a fact Oh that the wombe had beene my graue Or I had perisht in my birth Or that same day may darknesse haue Wherein â— first drew vitall breath Let God regard it not at all Let not the sunne vpon it shine Let misty darknesse on it fall For to make knowne this sinne of mine The night wherein I was conceau'd Let be accurst with mournefull cryes Let twinckling starres from skyes bereau'd And clowds of darkenesse thereon rise Because they shot not vp the powers That gaue the passage to my life Come sorrow finish vp mine howers And let my time here end in griefe And hauing made this wofull moane A knife she snatched from her side Where Lucresse part was rightly showne For with the same fayre Isabell dyed Hereat Lord Wigmoore greeued sore In heart repenting his amisse And after would attempt no more To crop the flowers of Maidens blisse But liued long in wofull wise Till death did finish vp his dayes And now in Isabels graue he lyes Till iudgment comes-them both to raise A Song of Sir Richard Whittington who by strange fortunes came to bee thrice Lord Maior of London with his bountifull guifts and liberallity giuen to this honorable Citty To the tune of dainty come thou to me HEre must I tell the praise of worthy Whittington Knowne to be in his dayes thrice Maior of London But of poore parentage borne was he as we heare And in his tender age bred vp in Lancashire Poorely to London than came vp this simple lad Where with a Marchant man soone he a dwelling had And in a Kitchin plast a scullion for to be Wheras long time he past in labour drudgingly His daily seruice was turning spitts at the fire And to scoure pots of brasse for a poore Scullions hire Meat and drinke all his pay of coyne he had no store Therefore to run away in secret thought he bore So from this marchant man Whittington secretly Towards his Contry ran to purchase liberty But as he went along in a faire summer morne London bells swéetly rung Whittington back returne Euermore sounding so turne againe Whittington For thou in time shalt grow Lord Maior of London Wherevpon back againe VVhittington came with spéed A prentise to remaine as the Lord had decréed Still blessed be the bells this was his daily song They my good fortune tells most swéetly haue they rung If God so fauour me I will not prooue vnkind London my loue shall sée and my great bounties find But sée his happy chance this Scullion had a Cat Which did his state aduance and by it wealth he gat His maister ventred sorth to a land far vnknowne With Marchandize of worth as is in stories showne VVhittington had no more but his poore Cat as than Which to the ship he bore like a braue Marchant â—â—n Uentring the same quoth he I may get store of gold And Maior of London be as the bells haue me told Whittingtons Marchandire carried was to a land Troubled with Rats and Mice as they did vnderstand The King of that Contry there as he at dinner sat Daily remain'd in feare of many a Mouse and Rat. Meat that on trenchers lay no way they could keepe safe But by Rats borne away fearing no wand nor staffe Wherevpon soone they brought Whittingtons nimble Cat Which by the King was bought heapes of gold giuen for that Home againe came these men with their ship loaden so Whittingtons wealth began by this cat thus to grow Seullions life he forsooke to be a Marchant good And soone began to looke how well his credit stood After this he was chose Shriefe of this citty héere And then full quickly rose higher as did appeare For to this Citties praise Sir Richard Whittington Came to be in his dayes thrise Maior of London More his fame to aduance thousands he lent his King To maintaine warres in France Glory from thence to bring And after at a feast that he the King did make Burnd the bands all in ieast and would no money take Ten thousand pound he gaue to his Prince willingly And would not one penny haue thus in kind curtesie God did thus make him great So would he daily sée poore people sed with meat Prisoners poore cherisht were widdowes swéet comfort found Good déedes both far and néere of hun do still resound Whittington Colledge is one of his charities Records reporteth this to lasting memories New gate he builded faire for prisoners to liue in Christ Church he did repaire Christian loue for to win Many more such like déedes was done by VVittington Which Ioy and Comfort bréedes to such as lookes thereon Lancashire thou hast bred this flower of Charity Theâ—â—ah he be gâ—n and dead yet liues he lastingly Those bells that cald him so turne againe Whittington Call you bach many mee to liue so in London The life and death of the great Duke of Buckingham who came to an vntimely end for consenting to the deposing of the two gallant young princes King Edward the fourths Children To the tune of Shores wife A Tale of griefe I must vnfold a tale that neuer yet was told A tale that might to pitty mooue the spirits below and Saints aboue When warres did plague this maiden land great Buckingham in grace did stand With Kings and Quéenes he ruled so when he said I none durst say no. Great Glosters Duke that washe the thrâ—ane with blood of Kings to makâ— his owne By Henry Staffords help obtaind what reason wild to be refraind If any noble of this land against great
long and lasting praise If I should tell his story pride was all his glory And lusty Stuekly he was cald in court he serud a Bishop of the west And did accompany the best maintaining still him selfe in galant sort Being thus esteemed and euery where well deemed He gaind the fauour of a London dame daughter to an Alderman Curtis he was called than to whom a sutor gallantly he came When she his person spied he could not be denied So braue a Gentle man he was to see she was quickly made his wife In weale or woe to lead her life her father willingly did so agree Thus in state and pleasure ful many daies they measure Till cruell death with his regardles spight bore old Curtis to his graue A thing that Stukely wisht to haue that he might reuell all in gold so bright He was no sooner toombed but Stukely presumed To spend a hundred pound that day in wast the brauest gallants of the land Had Stukelies purse at their command thus merily the time away he past Tauerns and Ordinaries were his cheefest braueries Goulden angells flew there vp and downe râ—â—ts were his best delight With stately feastings day and night in court and Citty thus he won renowne Thus wasting land and liuing by this his lawlesse giuing At last he sould the pauements of his yard which couered were with blocks of tin Old Curtis left the same to him which he consumed vainely as you heard Where at his wife sore greeued desird to be relceued Make much of me deere husband she did say I le make much more of thee quoth he then any one shall verily I le â—ell thy clothes and so will go my way Cruelly thus hearted away from her he parted And trauelled to Italy with speed there he slorisht many a day In his silkes and rich aray and did the pleasures of a Lady feed It was this Ladies pleasure to giue him gold and treasure And to maintaine him in great pomp and faine at last came newes assuredly Of a batlaile fought in Barbary and he would valiantly go see the same Many a noble gallant sould both land and tallant To follow Stukely to this famous fight whereas three Kings in person would Aduentrously with courage bould within the battaile shew themselues in sight Stukely and his followers all of the King of Portugall Had entertainement like to gentlemen the King affected Stukely so That he his secrets all did know and bore his royall standard now and then Upon this day of honour each King did shew his banner Morocco and the King of Barbery Portugall with al his traine Brauely glistred on the plaine and gaue the onset there most valiantly The Cannons they resounded thundring drums rebounded Kill kill as then was all the soldiers cry mangled men lay on the grownd And with blood the earth was dround the sun was likewise darkened in the skye Heauen was sore displeased and would not be appeased But tokens of Gods heauy wrath did show that he was angry at this war He sent a fearefull blazing star wherby these Kings might their misfortunes know Bloody was this slaughter or rather wilfull murther Whhere six score thousand fighting men was slaine three Kings within this battaile died With forty Dukes and Carles beside the like will neuer more be fought againe With woful armes infoulding Stukely stood beholding This bloody sacrifice of soules that day he sighing said I wofull wight Against my Conscience heere did fight and brought my followers all vnto decay Being thus molested and with greefes oppressed These braue Italians that did sell their lands with Stukely thus to trauell forth And venture liues for little worth vpon him al did lay their murthering hands Unto death thus wounded his heart with sorrow sounded And to them all he made this heauy mone thus haue I left my contry deere To be so vildly murthered heere euen in this place wheras I am not known My wife I haue much wronged for what to her belonged I vainely spent in idle course of life what I haue done is past I sée And bringeth naught but greefe to me therfore grant now thy pardon gentle wife Life I see consumeth and death I feele presumeth To change this life of mine into a new yet this me greatest comfort brings I liu'd and died in loue of Kings and so braue Stukely bids the world adew Stukelies life thus ended was after death befrended And like a soldier buried gallantly where now there stands vpon his graueÌ„ A stately temple builded braue with golden Turrets peircing in the skye FINIS A most royall song of the life and death of our late renowned Princesse Queene Elizabeth To the tune of the Ladies fall IN England raigned once a king eight Henry cald by name Which made faire Anne of bullaine Queene of England in great fame UUho brought vnto this Centry ioy and to her King delight A daughter that in England made Gods Gospell shine most bright At Greenwitch was this Princesse borne that gallant place in Kent A house belou'd of Kings and Queenes a house of sweet content Euen in her childhood she beganne so stor'd with heauenly grace That all Estates both high and low her virtues did embrace None like Elizabeth was found in learning so deuine She had the perfect skilfull arts of all the muses nine In Latten Gréeke and Hebrew shée most excellent was knowne To forraine Kings Ambassadors the same was daily showne The Itallian French and Spannish tongue she well could speake and read The Turkish and Arabian spéech grew perfect at her need Her musicke made her wonderfull so cunning therein found The fame whereof about the world in Princes eares did sound Yet when her royall parents liues by death were tane away And her deare brother Edward turnd to clodds of earth and clay Her cruell sister Mary sought her lasting greefe and woe Regarding not the guifts that God vppon her did bestow A bloody raigne Queene Mary liud a Papist in beléefe Which was vnto Elizabeth a great heart breaking gréefe A faithfull Protestant was she at which Quéene Mary spighted And in Elizabethes mishaps she daily much delighted Poore maiden by the Bishops wills in prison she was put And from her frends and comforters in cruell manner shut Much hoping she would turne in time and her true faith forsake But firme she was and patiently did all these troubles take Her sister forthwith gaue command her diat to be small Her seruants like wise very few Yea almost none at all And also would haue tane her life but that King Phillip said Oh Quéene thy contry will report thou hast the Tiger plaid The Lord thus put this King in mind his chosen Saint to saue And likewise to Quéene Maries life a sodaine ending gaue And so Elizabeth was fetcht from prison to a crowne Which she full foure and forty yeares possest with much renowne She popery first of all supprest and in our English tongue Did cause Gods
bible to be read which heauen continue long Poore preaching likewise she ordaind with plenty in this land And still against the foes thereof most zealously did stand The pride of Rome this Quéene abates and spightfull Spaine kept vnder And succord much Low-contry states where at the world did wonder That such a worthy Prince as she should worke such worthy things And bring more honor to this land then all our former Kings The gould stil brought from Spanish mines in spight of all her foes Throughout all parts of Christendome her braue aduentures shewes Her battel 's sought vpon the Seas resounded vp to heauen Which to aduance her fame and praise her victory still giuen The Spanish power in eighty eight which thirsted for her blood Most nobly like an Amazon their purposes withstood And boldly in her royall campe in person she was séene The like was neuer done I thinke by any Englih Quéene Full many a Tray for since that time she hath consounded quite And not the bloodiest mind of all hir courage could affright For mercy ioynd with maiesty still made her foes her friends By pardoning many which deserud to haue vntimely ends Tirone with all his Irish rout of rebells in that land Though nere so desperate bold and stout but feard her great command She made them quake and tremble sore but for to heare her name She planted peace in that faire land and did their wildnesse tame Though warres she kept with dangers great in Ireland France and Spayne Yet her true subiects still at home in safety did remaine They ioyd to sée her princely sace and would in nombers run To méet her royall Maiesty more thick then moates in Sun But time that brings all thinges to end a swift foot course did run And of this royall maiden Quéene a wofull conquest won Hir death brought feare vppon the land no wordes but tales of woe In Subiects eares resounded then where euer men did goe But feare exchangd to present ioyes swéet comforts loud did ring In stead of Quéene the people cryd long liue our royall King Which name of King did séeme most strang and made vs sore to muse Because full many a yeare the name of King we did not vse But such a noble King he is and so maintaines our peace That we in heart may dayly wish his life may neuer cease His Quéene and his posterity good angels still defend This is my muses chiese desire her melody to end FINIS A Song of a Beggar and a King I Read that once in Affrica a Prince that there did raine Who had to name Cophetua as Poets they did faine From Natures workes he did incline For sure he was not of my minde He cared not for women kinde but did them all disdaine But marke what happened by the way As he out of his window lay He saw a beggar all in gray which did increase his paine The blinded boy that shootes so trim from heauen downe so high He drew a Dart and shot at him in place where he did lye Which soone did pierse him to the quick For when he felt the arrow prick Which in his tender heart did stick he looketh as he would dye What sudden chance is this quoth he That I to loue must subiect be Which neuer thereto would agrée but still did it defie Then from his window he did come and laid him on his bed A thousand heapes of care did runne within his troubled head For now he meanes to craue her loue And now he séekes which way to prooue How he his fancie might remoous and not this beggar wed But Cupid had him so in snare That this poore begger must prepare A salue to cure him of his care or els he would be dead And as he musing thus did lye he thought for to deuise How he might haue her company that so did mase his eyes In thée quoth he doth rest my life For surely thou shalt be my wife Or else this hand with bloody knife the Gods shall sure suffice Then from his bed he arose And to his Pallace gate he goes Full little then this begger knowes when she the King espied The Gods preserue your Maiesty tho beggars all gan cry Uouchsafe to giue your charity our childrens food to buy The King to them his pursse did cast And they to part it made great hast The silly woman was the last that after them did hye The King he cald her back againe And vnto her he gaue his chaine And said with vs you shall remaine till such time as we dye For thou shalt be my wife quoth he and honoured like the Quéene With thée I meane to lead my life as shortly shall be séene Our wedding day shall appointed be And euery thing in their degrée Come on quoth he and follow me thou shalt go shift thée cleane What is thy name say on quoth he Phenelophon O King quoth she With that she made a lowe courtsey a trim one as I wéene Thus hand in hand along they walke vnto the Kings Pallace The King with courteous comly talke this begger doth imbrace The begger blusheth Scarlet read And straight againe as pale as lead But not a word at all she said she was in such a mase At last the spake with trembling voyce And said O King I do reioyce That you will take me for your choice and my degrée so base And when the wedding day was come the King commanded straight The noble men both all and some vpon the Quéene to waight And she behaued her selfe that day As if she had neuer walkt the way She had forgot her gowne of gray that she did weare of late The Prouerbe old is come to passe The Priest when he began his masse Forgets that euer Clarke he was he knoweth not his estate Here may you read Cophetua through sancie long time fed Compelled by the blinded boy the beggar for to wed He that did louers lookes disdaine To do the same was glad and faine Or else he would himselfe haue slaine in stories as we read Disdaine no whit O Lady déere But pitty now thy seruant héere Least that it hap to thée this yeare as to that King it did And thus they lead a quiet life During their princely raine And in a tombe were buried both as writers sheweth plaine The Lords they tooke it grieuously The Ladies tooke it heauily The Commons cryed pitiously their death to them was paine Their fame did sound so passingly That it did pierce the Starry sky And thorow out the world did flye to euery Princes realme FINIS A Louers Song in praise of his Mistresse To the tune of Apelles IF that Appelles now did raigne who euer sought for to haue fame He might haue wone with lesser paine a greater honor to his name For with great paine he sought all Gréece Till he had sound the fairest péece Throughout all Greece he could not view so faire so feate so sine
I lay by and sighing sit Sorrow sighes and teares beget Phillida my fairest Phillida With thée I can play and sing And mine armes shall like a ring faire Phillida Circle thée and then I hold That 's more desir'd of me then gold Phillida my fairest Phillida But without thée still I say I in woe weare time away my déarest loue Therefore let thy kind reply Cure me or I faint and dye Phillida let not thy fancy mooue FINIS Phyllidaes kind replye WHerefore faints my Coridon Thinkes thou I am such a one as Cressida I will prooue as firme to thée As Lucrece or Penelope Coridon doubt not of Phillida Though I haue béen absent long Faint not my sweet Coridon thy Phillida Is as thou art true and iust Strong in loue but weake in lust Coridon doubt not of Phillida Nor though our sex are giuen to range Doth Phillida delight in change my Coridon If my absence made thee greeue Let my presence now reléeue Coridon my déerest Coridon As in me thou takest delight So do I in thy swéete sight my Coridon I haue bene in yonder groue Gathering flowers for my loue Coridon my dearest Coridon The chiefest both for shew and sent So choice am I for thy content my dearest loue Looke the liuery of the spring to deck thee Coridon I bring then do not thy Phillida reprooue Such a louing simphathy in our loueâ— deare loue doth lye I know right well Such a heart wrought combination that I feare no separation Coridon such néedlesse doubts repell FINIS A New sonnet of a Knight and a faire Virgin To the tune of Salengers round I Read how in King Arthurs time a Knight as he did ride Did méet a Uirgin faire and bright about the gréenewood side Could she wâ—ll or could she wo he lighted of his stéed And there he tooke against her will her maiden head indéed When this was done this maiden then went raging to the King Bewailing of her pitteous case and told him euery thing The King now hearing her complaint in Stories as I read Commanded the Knight he should be hangd for this his hainous déed The Quéene alas considering this it was a pitteous thing To cast away so faire a man she begd him of the King Unto the Knight then she began now prisoner art thou mine For thou shalt dye for ought I know except thy wittes are fine Yet I will giue thée a whole yeares space to know of woemens kind What thing it is that woemen loue best if they may haue their mind Full sadly went this Knight away some councell for to find To know the cause to kéepe the day that was to him assign'd When that the yeare was almost out he came where he had seene Twenty Ladies in a rout all dancing on a greene When he drew néere vnto the place his Question o haue told They vaded all before his face saue one that was ful old Amazâ—d be yée sir Knight quoth she what i st that you mislike Perchance you may pick out of me the thing that you do seeke He told her then she said againe if I do it for you You must agree to grant it me that you may easily doe Content quoth he come on quoth she haue with you to the Quéene And say that it is Soueraignty that women loue as I wéene Onward they go the Quéene did know the Knight was néere at hand She placed her Ladies all on a row to heare the matter scand The Knight he gaue his question this my tale was soone exprest It séemes to me that Soueraigntie is that that women loue best The Ladies all about the hall their verdits soone did giue This worthy Knight hath hit so right hath well deserued to liue Then Beldam stept before the Quéene desiring that the Knight Might grant to her vpon the gréene the troth that he did plight What is that quoth he mary quoth shee that I may bee your wife Alas quod he then woe is mee yet rather take my life There was no shift but marriage swifâ— and both laid in a bed When she did ioy to preeue a toy he turned away his head Sirquoth she were not you better haue me being both shrewd and old Then to haue youth that for a truth should make you a Cuckold But all this while she saw no smâ—le nor countenance of the Knight She changed hew she made her selfe new her beauty was brane and bright Then fell the Knight to louers delight good Lord what dayes are these It was so strange to sée the change a could not sléepe for fleas FINIS A new song of an Hostisse and her Guests To the tune of the painter I Wil not to Saint Katherines goe to laugh no more My Hostisse chides and checks me so I am sorry therefore When I came in as merry as a pye she hung she chin she lookt awry She hould she scould she looked so coy I could not be merry I could not ioy I saw her sit so maidenly when I came in To busse and kisse her curtuously I did begin The more I shewed my countenance free the more be shrewed the worse was she Her talke so shrill the time so soure I durst not tarry there halfe an hower The béere was bitter for my tast I tell you true I came to soone to make such hast as did ensue Yet after alâ— these comely shewes as best becomes those friendly shrewes The frownes were gone and frollick she contented was to welcome me Then had we that and cheere at will as serued the place A redy friend our pots to fill and fetch apace The Goodman he was not at home the guests were cut ouer heart and come The shrew became a curteous dame The three hoop'd pot was filled round for lack of cheere Aneats-foot in the towne was found and we drew neere To take our fill of euery ioy our Hostisse was no longer coy But thankes be to God our friends and vs our mallice and all was ended thus Finis A Lamentable Ditty on the death of a nobleman who was executed in the time of King Edward SHould fortune frowne against the Gods alas and should she so Should worthy wightes of noble blood receiue such mortall woe Alas poore England now alas Thy wo wil shortly come to passe In time of noble Edwards raigne whose same doth farre resound His vncle deare did truth maintaine and all his foes confound But in the end alas alas his wofull death was brought to passe His Princely name and courage stout which all men may report Could not defend him from the rout of those that did extort But in the end alas alas his wofull death was brought to passe He was bereft of noble power committed to his charge And cast into the prison Tower his torments to enlarge Where as he lay alas alas to dolefull death was brought to passe Who then did know the saigned clause wherefore he was condemned Is not the sentence of those
lawes of all good men commended O noble Duke alas alas thy wofull death is come to passe How wast thou led vnto Tower-hill with billes beset about Euen like a lambe contented still before the wooluish rout O Summerset alas alas thy wofull death is come to passe How did the Common people cry with heaped voyces shril Pardon pardon with hands on high hoping to kéepe him still He stood vpright a noble Duke with constant courage bold Content your selues this was his suse the lawes haue me controld Alas poore soules alas alas your wo will shortly come to passe Pray for the peace of Edward King your Soueraigue he did say That he may prosper in liuâ—ng all ye good people pray Least that his foes alas alas do bring his wofull death to passe Our Summer sweet was thus berest and winter did ensue What carefull hearts to vs were left are since approoued true Oh England cry alas alas that thy woe should come thus to passe Finis A pleasant new Sonnet intituled mine owne deare Lady braue To the tune of Rogero MYne owne deare Lady braue would God it were my hap To be the Spanniell that you haue to dandlo in yourlap Or that â— were so feate to please you with my skippes To take me vp in your conceit to stand and lick your lippes Or that my pranking pace in all points could agree To touch your traine in euery place at least as neere as he Or that I could so bragge or simper with my taile To take me vp into your lap to know what I doe ayle Then should I hope and haue each dainty in the dish And harbor like a pretty knaue according to my wish And sleepe betweene your paps with striking on the â—ead As tenderly each Lady raps such puppies in their beds Would God you would voutchsafe to grant me halfe the grace A lick or leape some time to haue in such a puppies place Should neuer faining whelpe so closely kéepe you play For I will neither yaune nor yelpe your secrets to bewray But what it should behooue A Spaniell to professe To cloake or hide when you remooue my part shall be no lesse And what doth want in him my fauor might supply For though your puppie can do frim yet not so well as I. Perhaps you will forget your puppies dainty toyes When you and I were closely met to play for pritty boyes Then pitty now peruse this written verse of mine Or else the Dog I craue to choose the happy state of thine FINIS A new Sonnet of a curst wife and her husband PAssing along through Redriffe I heard one sore complaining Then streight I drew me neere to him to know the cause and meaning Of this his sorrow care and griefe which did his minde disaster Alasse sayes he what shall I doe my wife will needs be maister For I may did wo worth the time that ere with her I matched For with her nailes that are so sharpe my face she hath bescratched To a Surgion I was driuen to run for to goe beg a plaister So thus God knowes vnto my greefe my wife will be my maister I drndge I droile I tosse I toyle till that the day be ended At night I make to her account what monny I haue spended Or else my pockets she will search and say I am a waster Thus like a mome I liue at home and she will needes be maister For all the paines that I do take yet still she will be chiding Crcept siue groats each night I bring at home ther 's no abiding She saies that I am good for nought but for some foolish Ieaster With angry browes and deadly vowes she sweares to be my master Thus honnest friend as you haue heard I daily liue in sorrow Of neuer a neighbor that I haue dare I once lend or borrow If I should liue as many yeares as euer did King Nestor Yet in my mind it still me feares that she would be my maister I dare not stir forth of her sight but when I am a working For her iealous mind doth thinke I am with one or other lurking And if at any time I should but chance to spend a teaster Shee le call me knaue base rogue and slane and sweares shee le bee the maister FINIS