Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	word_n	work_n	wound_n	29	3	6.9555	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A15046	The rocke of regard diuided into foure parts. The first, the castle of delight: wherin is reported, the wretched end of wanton and dissolute liuing. The second, the garden of vnthriftinesse: wherein are many swéete flowers, (or rather fancies) of honest loue. The thirde, the arbour of vertue: wherein slaunder is highly punished, and vertuous ladies nad gentlewomen, worthily commended. The fourth, the ortchard of repentance: wherein are discoursed, the miseries that followe dicing, the mischiefes of quareling, the fall of prodigalitie: and the souden ouerthrowe of foure notable cousners, with diuers other morall, natural, & tragical discourses: documents and admonitions: being all the inuention, collection and translation of George Whetstons Gent.	Whetstone, George, 1544?-1587?	1576 (1576)	STC 25348; ESTC S111731	150,826	258

their turnes stricke not to play the Bée Scorne not for gaine in age to holde the doore They once were yong that were your bandes before 101 And now my larges giuen farewel foule guile Farewel O world no wile shal make me rich My mynd abhorres welth won by falshoodes vyle To mount by fraud I loth such loftie pitch I can not scratch the harmelesse ere they itch If due desart proude Flatterie pyneth still I list not fawne play hypocrite that will. 102 Fare wel fare wel O world farewel againe Thou now God wot frō wonted course doest réele The clergie once in preaching tooke great paine Whose words in works bare witnes of their zeale Most now in words but few in workes reueale They teach with toung when thought on tything is O wicked world thy wealth is cause of this 103 O world accurst in court thou settest pryde Whose mynions are fraude flatterie and disdaine They pyne desart before his truth be tryde They forge offened well meaning mindes to staine They cast at al yet sildome lose amaine Wo worth the world thy brauerie works the wracke Of such in court as well deserue and lacke 104 The souldier stout foreséeing small reliefe For seruice doone if spoyled honre he comes As forst to play no souldier but the théefe When fortune fits to gather vp his crumbes For once at home poore store of pence he thumbes O world thy wealth with rulers worketh so As what they haue they hardly will forgo 105 The lawe first made to wéede out wrongs for right To yeald amends vnto the poore opprest ●s wrested nowe for fauour or for spight Nowe monie so corrupts the Lawyers breast That daying is for poore mens suits the best Yea such effects in worldly muche doth lurke As iudges harme where helpe they ought to worke 106 Fine fare and slouth discases strange do bréede And grieued wights will spare no cost for ease But golden fées so doth Physicians féede As séelde or nere they rich mens paines appease With drinks and drugs they still do them displease O wicked world thy welth first wrought their grief Thy wealth againe doth hinder their reliefe 107 Desire of gaine make offices so heape As solde they be not giuen who best deserues Who buyeth deare séelde thriues by selling cheape Who wrongeth yet from honest getting swerues No force for that fewe nowe such course obserues Thus pelfe O world first makes the Doner foule To leauie mendes the Done néedes must poule 108 Each pleasant paine each swéete inticing sowre O world thou workst our wanton yeres to witch And not content we should our selues deuour But churles thou sett'st to clawe vs ere we itch Thou burnst the byrde and bastes the bacon stitch O spiteful world thou hap frank harts dost grutch And grieuest churles by giuing of too much 109 The merchant once bent all his care to seas In forreine soyle he sought desired gaine Then was his toyle to common wealth an ease And he deseru'd his wish in lye of paine But nowe at home he findes a swéeter vaine Sance venter nowe he will in wealth abound Foule fall the wight this second trade that found 110 The reachlesse héede youthes haue in large expence To flaunt it out their cost no care to thriue Inticeth churles with shewe of good pretence In prime of pride their maintnance to depriue For lymed once small bootes the wrong'd to striue Right Cousners haue such helps friends at néede As struange it is to sée how ●leare they spéede 111 Thy pryde O world doth bréede such wanton thought As most men nowe receiue dame Venus hyre To stoupe faire dames such sharp assaults are sought Such proffers large such wiles to winne desire As wonder t' is what fortes are set on fire Who sinneth not is such a gnawing bone To raise this siege that fewe will throwe a stone 112 Fye on the world fye on thy soule deceites Fye on thy fraude thy flatterie and thy pryde Fye on thy shifts thy subtilties and sleites Fye on thy cloakes thy filthy crimes to hyde Adieu adieu I can thée not abyde And thee O God for euermore I laude For kéeping me vntainted so with fraude 113 For though I haue consumd my dayes in thral Now death drawes néere my coūt is quickly made And well I wot death doth all sorts appall The prince the poore yea men of euery trade Who lewdly liues with recknings huge is lade Thus worldlings griefe where mine doth eb doth flowe A sorrie swéete to end with sowre woe 114 Through conscience I féele no thought of hell I conquer'd haue of dreadful death the feare Where is thy sting where doth thy furie dwell Where is thy force O Death wher is thy speare Assault say I that with my Christe I were I ready am both euening noone and morne The diuell the world and all their works I scorne Lenuoy 115 YOu worldlings chiefe to you this tale I tell God graunt my words be to your woundes a leache The fruites of fraude vntold you knowe too well Yea better then my naked Muse can teach But to this end this dririe plaintes I preach That hencefoorth you to getting haue such eye As you may liue as though you dayly dye 116 And least the lewde should wrest my worde amis I do exempt the good of euery trade The which I trust will not repine at this To shew thy praise this checking verse was made The Clergie first at whome a glaunce I had Of them there be great store of preachers good To shewe the truth that will not spare their blood 117 There are in court that liue in worthy fame And well deserue renoune and credite both Some officers will take no bribes for shame Some laweyers are to sowe dissention loth And citizens with whome I séemde so wroth I néedes must graunt how so my Muse did square Of euery trade a number honest are 118 The souldier now whom I do honour much How so I toucht their faults that do offend I graunt we haue of noble souldiers such As maimes to fame that will those vices shend I blame none such the rest I wish amend Physicians good as many sure there be Will not repine the lewde reprou'd to sée 119 How so I toucht some scriueners faults at quicke There are of those I knowe of honest fame Such haue no cause against my Muse to kicke Nor yet the lewde that wisely weyes the same I blase abuse yet touch no creatures name Yea to be shore ●●ypt no foot of men That truly can w●th malice charge my pen. Veritas non querit angulos G.W. opinion of trades as touching gaine written to his especiall friend maister R.C. MIne owne good friend ▪ since thou so faine wouldst know What kynde of trade doth yeald the surest gaine My iudgement now of some I meane to showe And after toyle which quiteth best thy paine The merchant he which cuts the mounting seas With

the ploughe of late Can rightly rule the scepter of renowne No honour stoupes to nature not to fate Yet Fortune heaues a thousand to estate As in good moode shée did of late by mée Who neuer knew the vse of dignitie As by abuse one proofe shal well appeare First for my pride my betters did mée scorne The poore did fawne godwot for very feare My luring life did moue my lord to mourne Whose ielous sighes foreshewed he feard the horne Yet wisely hée his shrewde mistrust to show Usde secrete nippes my faultes to make mée know I saw and smilde to sée his true mistrust And yet in showe I sight throwe sollen will As who should say to thinke thy spouse vniust Thou doest her wronge she neuer ment no ill She hath béene true and so shée wil be still For all his witte thus found I out a wile To quenche suspect forsoth a little while But rauening currs their chaps can hardly hould When carren lies before their hungry iawes The stragling kite with chickes will sure be bould If once a wynge shée spies a flight of dawes Soe ramping girles regarde no modest lawes As profe appeares by this my filthie flight I left my Lord and stoale away by night Who hearing once of this my gadding moode My vitall thread vntwiste good care quoth hée In fine her hate wil sure sucke out my bloode She loues me not there is no third degrée Thus ledde with feare at large hée let mée flée I pinchte with néede to praying forthwith fell And for my selfe I shifted prettie well To plant my wares in place of brauest vewe In Pauie towne a stately house I tooke I deckte my selfe with wéedes of lightest hewe To lure guestes I sparde no wanton looke Valperga first was choakt with Cupids hooke Hée sight hée sobd hée curst his sorrie chaunce Hée surde hée searud he did attendaunce daunce But squemish then Bianca Maria was His secrete sighes with scorne she quited still A parle yet at length was brought to pas Where safely hée might shew his hidden will With sugred wordes he wraid his suites at fill His life his death all in my power lay I was so kinde to loth this Lords decay They say the mate is apt to mischiefe still Whose foule offence with countenaunce is held So wantons forst with their agréeing will When lust assaultes will after learne to yeald No fame nor shame can make them kéepe the field To true a proofe appeareth by mine end Then sinne not dames in hope for to amend I showe not this to shape mine owne excuse My life I lothe to salue my fowle amisse But for your héed I blase this vile abuse Beware beware of Venus beastly blisse It féedes the flesh and sterues the soule I wisse It honour staines it is a shrine of shame A bitter swéete that breadeth nought but blame In mée too late these faultes I did forsée Valperga so my wanton humour fedde My fare was fine I lackt no goulden glée The art of Loue for exercise I redde And thus my life in Venus court I ledde With wealth at will I could but wish and haue The toy I lackt I néede not twise to craue And think you dames these visards yeld such sights As wanton girles may sighe to sée their shame No méekenes marres the maskes of fond delightes And fasting must their frolicke bodies ●ame To Scriptures read they must their leasure frame Then loath they will both lust and wanton loue Be sure else such ryggs my case shall proue But at my call why did Valperga stoupe Why did not hée foresée the fruites of lust Why did he come at euery wanton whoope Why why did hee Bianca Maria trust Which to her Lord had shewen her selfe vniust A man hée was whom weakenes cannot scuse How could hée then let loue him so abuse How could hée ah Perforce I shew my shame As one whose tongue a truth will neatly tell I reaft his life why slay I then his fame No reason why saue I can nothing well For through my lure hée wonne to folly fell If not so witcht who list like case to proue Shal find fine heads are fraughted first with loue Then sith his ioy all in Bianca lay What scuse hath shee with hate to pay his loue Bée not abasht the truth in wordes to wray Which thou in act vntimely late didst proue What sullen moode this péeuish scorne did moue And am I forst to shew the fault I shame Sith néedes I must Good Ladies note the same They say who so with dropsie is aprayde The more hée drinckes the more hée doth desire The gréedie churle is neuer well appayde Although he reape the gaine hée doth require So lust in rampes is such a raging fire That most it heates when most the same is drencht A hellish flame that neuer can be quencht This fire in mée was kindled first with pride But raysde to flame with ease and wanton thought It raged so no reason could mée guide My husbands sport so small allayaunce wrought As him I left for lustier laddes I sought Valperga then a while supprest this fire But hée decayde oor chaunge I did desire Giazzo next was fauord in my sight Who forst mée not his friend hee loued soe Hée knew I was Valpergas sole delight Hée scornde my winckes my wanton loue in showe My priuie sighes my wilie signes of woe But Spaniel like by stripes to kindnes moude The more hée scornd the more this lord I loude And when I sawe hée shunde inticeing baites Immodest rigg I Ouids counsell vsde Where cleanly I did couler shame with sleightes Through loue constrainde which reason had abusde My penne did paint what bashfull tongue refusde Which fewe suffisde hée knew loue kept no lawe Hée was my ioy of him I stoode in awe This proferd grace did stowpe Giazzo straight Hée loude his friend but more his owne delight The hooke of loue hee swallowed with the baite No marueile why Biancaes beautie bright Her braue arraye and shée a Countesse hight Would force a man himselfe and all forgoe And could hée chuse when loue was offered soe No néede to runne the créeple sure will teach A pleasaunt pray a théefe inticeth soone As foxes hate the grapes they cannot reach And wilie saintes with showes are seldome wonne When as assuerde their squemishnes is donne Euen such a saint Giazzo proued in fine Hée loude no grapes before hée reacht the vine Wel thus at length I w●n my wished ioy Hée came in whome my heart did wholy dwell To make him sport Bianca was not coy She knew her game and streight to daliaunce fell Where as this Lord behaude himselfe so well That loe I loath Valpergas drowsy sport And so with scorne I stayde his oft resort Thus reft good soule of her hée heald so deare His woonted sutes a fresh hée put in vre Hée sight hée serued hée lookt with sorrie cheare But

pleasure at her hands If it ne grées with glory of their state Helpe to excuse Biancas deadly hate Who now beginnes such bloudy newes to blase As endlesse shame her infamie will raise Or giue her leaue to vse what cloake she may For once report wil much inlarge her misse In womens moodes there is no meane they say They scorned loue so huge their liking is Of force as great their hate must be ywis What folly then Giazzos mynd did blame To think my wrath would ceasse through open shame How could he wene my friendship for to force By ringing out the lewdnesse of my life Sith shame compelles the bad to fall to worse Where discord is new wrong increaseth strife Reuenge is sought where iniuries are rife Wast then the way to reaue my wrangling hate Inuectiues vile to set vpp on my gate O no God wot my mightie litle hart Was well nye burst my blame was blased so These rymes I soung with notes of musickes art Bianca namde in euery wanton shew ▪ Constraind me wretch from Pauie for to go To Mantua then I did my iourney take Where open house I kept for credits sake And placed there according to my will With bloudie hate my murdrous hart was bent Giazzo Lord Valperga eake to kill A thousande feates of murder I inuent As many feares my purpose did preuent I loth yet would and willing stoode in awe Such brunts they byde that venter breach of lawe Till vice vertue hath vanquisht in the féeld Then reason lawe rule feare and all adew Their minds their harts to nought but folly yéeld In spoile they sport they laugh at mischiefes new The proofe of which alas to late I rewe For when my feare my furie put to flight I liuing dyde till I had wrought my spight And sith this acte to doe my minde did mase This traine I laide to tyce a trustie frend In place of vene I gallants gaue the gase Their bonets vaild Bianca streight did bend Through friendly showe a bon iour for to send To parle oft I did my selfe apply Before I trust by talke each youth to try In making loue they prettie prattle vsde But nought it vaild to hault before the lame For I of yore with wylie woordes abusde As children brent doe after dread the flame At sugred speache I made a sporting game But ah ay mée to worke mine ouerthrow Untimely came to Mantua dom Pietro This capitaine stoute went flaunting too and fro Till loe ill lucke mée wretched hée espyes My gallant port beséemde a countesse show My beautie then my braue arraye hée eyes While blinded loue into his fancie flyes And stryuing hée doth cause his fire increase Thus warres he founde when most hée hoapte of peace Unarmed yet to match with Cupids force With Conges kinde hée wrayde his louing moode Next sighes he sends to moue mée to remorse Then paintes his pen thus straunge his fancies stoode My yea would saue my nay should shead his blood Quicke aunsweare make Dom Pietro hath decréede To liue in ioy or else to die with spéede These lines receiude I spyed my nouis heate Who lookt and lackt the recompence of loue UUhich scorne in mée did cause him more to sweate Hée sight I smilde his ioy my noy did moue Which thwarting showes past hope inforst him proue If that his lute soone might his passions showne Could force his swéete his hard mishap to mone But when I sawe his loue did still increase As hée one night lamenting layes did yell My gates were ope in signe and show of peace In came this Lord in minde his griefe to tell But loe abashte he first to blushing fell In chamber frayes of both my selfe the best This onset gaue to cheare my chosen guest Biancas breach of chaste and modest lawe May séeme full straunge to you my louing Lord To ope my gates to one I neuer sawe UUhen knowen friends so falsifie their word Dread not quoth he Dom Pietro doth accord From sorrowes frée yet frée Biancas slaue To like but what his loue desires to haue I aunsweard soone with sugred showes full ofte Such Lords as you faire Ladies still beguiles But suites obtainde they sillie soules are scofte Then choice in chaunge your loue and faith exiles Not so in mée quoth hée I want such wiles For proofe commaund what seruice pleaseth you The which performde then thinke Dom Pietro true In hoape quoth I your wordes and déedes are one I first will trust your faith then after taste To quite your loue Bianca is your owne Dom Pietro straight did execution haste And bashfull earst his best beloude imbraste UUith sugred wiles I so this gallant wrought As sure I was a Goddesse in his thought Assurde of which to sawce his swéetest sport A sighe I fetcht and squemish faynde to bee UUoe worth quoth I Giazzo lewde report Valpergas scorne two Earles of hie degree Their traytrous tongues so sore haue slaundred mée That death I wish but destnie will not soe And they triumph that wrought my timelesse woe Dom Pietro then did bluster forth this speach Ah verlets vile from natures lawe which swer●e Ere longe I sure your traytrous tongues will teach To slaunder her whom duetie wills you serue And then hee vowde with spéede their flesh to carue Soone shall they proue quoth hée if I doe faine And you shall sée if déedes and woordes are twaine I glad of which yet sad I seemde in showe And sighing said looke to your selfe my sweete Your hurt my death in hart I loue you soe UUhich friendly wordes his furie more did heate Fare well quoth hee till I haue wrought this feate This hand and blade their babling tōgues shal worme UUhich wordes with deedes he cruel did performe For loe one night hee did foreshaule their way But weaklie armde Valperga was intrapte Giazzo blest was absent at this fray Oore wayde with force Valperga was intrapt That ah his death vntimely there hée rapt Who dying cryde Dom Pietro did the déede Streight hew and crie to search him out doth spéede Hée found forth with vnto the Duke was brought And paintes at large my loue and lothsome hate The suite of friendes in grace Dom Pietro wrought To salue my misse repentaunce came to late Good Ladies yet note well my fall and fate My wealth my weades my swéete delights to shoe Intice not warne without the sauce of woe But listen well vnto my filthie fall Payse blisse with bale swéete life with sower end And you shall finde my ioy oore wayde with thrall Of fréedome rest in prison closely pend Distrest vnhelpt forsooke of kinne and frend Yea more then straying so fowle my follies ware As gould ne vayld to cleare my clowdes of scare Ne could I wretch take well in worth my woe My former swéete did so increase my sowre My homely cheare my costly cates did show My prison vile of yore my princely bowre My laughing friends by foes

too and fro Beares witnesse of their paine Their sowre sitting in secrete nookes When others laugh their lowring lookes Declares them caught in Cupides hookes And fare as men forlorne Their often making of their mone Their solemne sitting all alone In places secrete and vnknowne Still cursing they were borne Are tokens true the Peet sayth To whome these Turtles vowe their faith If fayning we may trust Certes these torments all men gréeue And therefore sure I do beléeue Their sayings to be iust Wherfore to guerdon loyall loue My deare such fancies from you moue As Enuie late did faine For truly I protest to you The heauens shall fall ere I vntrue My loyaltie will staine And time I trust will so prouide When eluish Enuie shall her hide From bale to blisse truth shall vs hide To top of Fortunes whéele Where we to banishe fell annoy Stil liue repleate with blissefull ioy Still lauding of the blinded boy Whose force we oft did féele Till time obtaines that happy day Let no conceite your mynd affray In iudging me vntrue Which blessed houre shall hap with spéede Or else my will shall want his méede And thus swéete wench adue The infortunate louer determineth rather desperately to end his sorrowes then to proroge them with bootelesse hope THe trayterous mate by law adiudg'd to dye If feare of death should worke this foule effect In hope Saunce hap his secrete to escrye Or slaunder forge to peach the vnsuspect Proroging thus his life by dallying death Besides his gilt with shame shuld stop his breath In desperate frayes where raunsome is denyde Base were the minde in hope of grace to yeald Whose courage else might daūt his enimies pride And so by force with fame to win the field For where our wrong doth worke our ouerthrow In vaine we hope to weare away our woe And why shuld I with hope persuade my thought To bath in blisse past bondes of my desart For my base hap my loue to high is sought Whom fauour none but frownings ouerthwart Alas can reape at my swéete maistresse hands I loue she hates and thus my fortune stands With withered woe my life I weare away Where often I heare thundring in my thought Through loue of her my friendes and foes to say Upon my selfe I wilfull murther wrought Then sith my death this strange report shal shape In vaine for grace till later gaspe I gape Nay wretche diuorce delayes from wished death Cut through the thred which care cōsumes to slowe Thy mounting mind despiseth seruile breath And canst thou yeald to fortunes ouerthrowe Thy dome is death by Ladies scorne decréed Néeds most thou dye then best to dye with spéede Some friend wil write on my vntimely tumbe With faithfull zeale I so my Goddesse seru'd My life my loue my liuing all and some I reaft and left before my fancie sweru'd And when my suit her mou'd to angry moode To worke amends I sacrifisde my bloud Verses of complaint deuised for a well meaning louer to moue his maistresse to pitie NOw cease good Lady cease to weaue my further woe Where scorne hath worne my ioyes to eb let pitie force them flowe To you I sue and serue to you I waile and wéepe For you my restlesse eyes doth watch when other men do sléepe To you my sighes I send which makes my heart to bléede For you my teares like Tiber streames from dazeled eyes procéede No wealth I do enioy but that I wish you part No griefe doth gaule your daintie minde but I do ease your smart To rowle in bagges of golde in choise I would detest In faith for to inioy your loue and harbour where you rest If you I might inioy I now forworne with woe To former ioyes would be restorde in spite of him sayes noe No torment then should vexe or nippe my heauie hart All gulfes of griefe shall soone be damde which drownes my ioyes in smart Of age I should triumphe and death I would defie And fortunes force I could withstand for all her crueltie In you to saue or spill in you to make or marre In you it restes to end my woes or cause my further care Twixt life and death I stand twixt hope and déepe despaire Till louing lines for pyning woe returnes a luckie share The complaint of a gentlewoman being with child falsely forsaken WHat gulfes of griefe may well receiue The teares which I in vaine do spend What faithlesse wight durst once deceiue By falsehoode foule so firme a friend With lose who wrayes how well shée lou'de When choise for chaunge his fancie moude Though reason would I should refraine His blame my shame for to bewray Good Ladies yet my pinching paine Inioynes mée here the truth to say Whose wretched plight and pensiue state Surmounteth farre Quéene Didoes fate What meanst thou wretch from ioy exilde To yeald vnto his fained teares With carelesse vowes why wert begilde And fearelesse othes the traytor sweares Ere nuptial rites whie didst thou trust His faith and yéelde vnto his lust Thou Iason false by periurde flight Thou Theseus thefte decypherest plaine I Dido wretch thou Troyan knight Here equall griefes in breast sustaine I iustly say which wordes I rue All men be false and none be true The fruites ysprong by our desire My wealth thou waste might moue thy hart To graunt the rightes which loue require And search a salue to cure my smart But sith thy faith thou doest forgoe Come death and end my wretched woe Yet Ladies all beware by mée To rue swéete woordes of fickle trust My heaped harmes let warning bée How filed talke doth proue vniust And rule your loue by reasons lore Least future plagues you do deplore Against one which wrote a slaunderous libell in dishonour of a Ladie YHacht thou wert in enuies nest Whose murthering tongue might not suffice To woorke a Ladies great vnrest But that with penne thou didst deuise Uile vice to paint in vertues place Her spotlesse life for to disgrace Whose sacred head with wisedome fraught Is guided by Dame Pallas skill Her deintie minde Minerua taught The good to loue to leaue the ill Then may it bée shée doth deserue Report from reasons lore to swerue Noe no thou wretch and Uiper vile From natures lawe which dost rebell The world doth know thy giltie gile In dungeon darcke hence forth now dwell For all men doth thy sight repine From manly actes which doest decline The heauens do frowne with earthly foode Thy carren corpes should nourisht bée Thou onely byrde of Uipers broode And bitter braunch of rankors trée A Harpie for thy filthie factes For God and man abhorres thy actes Unséene henceforth thou caitife couche Thou murtherer vile of others fame How durst thou once presume to touche The honour due vnto her name And make report that Dian chaste Faire Venus knightes in bedde imbraste Allotting to her harmelesse tongue All rusticke speach with Stentors voice Disdayning them whom loue hath stonge For that with

pardon mée and graunt you to amende The reporter The miserable end of Liros rather wrought a feare in strāgers vnto the horrible cousenage then any repentance in false Frenos and other his confederats So hardeneth the deuil the heartes and blindeth the sightes of the raprobate as neither the example of other mens miseries nor pricke of their owne consciences can reclaime them from lewdenes And yet although a while they wallowe in their wickednes and seeme to holde the intising dr●sse I meane wealth of this world at will in the pride of their prosperitie the most part of such worldlinges throughe Gods iustice are diuorced from their vaine delightes The soudaine fall of this Frenos proueth both the one and the other for notwithstanding he sawe the wretched death of Liros and knew that Liros did execute nothing but his deuise and direction yet séemed hée no wayes to be vexed in conscience for this offences being the author and only aduauntage reaper of his deceite and yet in the heate of his vnconscionable prouision he was soudainly arested with death Whom you may suppose as one amased with such soudaine visitation striuing for life to tell this disordered tale following Frenos complaint I Sée quoth hée death spares no sortes of men Our bagges of drosse may not withstand his might To moyle and toile for pelfe what bootes it then No whit God knowes if wée could sée aright But worldly cares our minds bewitched soe As thoughtes of heauen silde in our brestes do dwell The prouerbe saith the more such fathers woe Happ'is the childe whose father goes to hell But such prouerbes more common are then true Silde children kéepe that fathers lewdly gett And trust mée wealth if after want ensue With double griefe the néedie thrall doth frett To what ende then for mucke take wée such care To damne our selues and worke our childrens scare O wicked world so swéete thy torments séeme That when men tast thy drugges of vaine delight Their onely heauen thy thralles do thée estéeme With mistes of mucke thou blindest so their sight That wretched they whilst that in health they liue As Swine in myre do wallowe in their faultes An others fall nor conscience can them méeue To waile their sinnes till grislie death assaultes The thought of whom as thornes do pricke mée wretch Alas mée thinkes I sée his ghastly shape What did I meane to name him in my speach And can I not his furious force escape Oh noe my sinnes beginneth now to swarme To matche with him my selfe howe should I arme My conscience cryes confesse thy wicked life My wicked life such monstrous fraude presents As in my selfe I finde a hell of strife My gracelesse déedes the hope of grace preuents I sée I sée howe fierie fiendes do yell Before hie Ioue my wicked soule to haue My secrete sinnes condemnes mée wretch to hell They be so huge that nothing can me saue Where is the booke wherein Gods will is writ They say there in is balme that sinne can cure What ment I wretch I neuer studied it The booke is large my life will not indure So longe as I may reade and reape such grace The fault is mine I might while I had space I faint I faint my life will néedes away False Frenos now of force must yéeld to death These farewell woordes good friends yet note I pray Prepare your selues ere latter gaspe of breath So spend your liues as if you daily dyde Leste tarde you by death perhaps be tane Note well my fall in top of all my pride Before I wist hée gaue mée wretch my bane My worldly wealth for which I tooke such care I néedes must leaue in no good order sett A soudaine chaunge the chaunce yet nothing rare This is the proofe of goods that fraude doth get Loe this is all that death will let mée say But what is short may best be borne away The reporter This disordered complaint of Frenos is answerable vnto his disordered dealing but most of all vnto his sodaine death who hauing his conscience vnprepared tormented with the multitude of his sinnes stoode amazed what to say and yet howsoeuer it hange together it conteyneth matter of note which I leaue to the censure of the discrete reader And now to the rest of this report the next that death mett with in this Tragedie of couseners was Caphos a merchant whose name Frenos vsed in diuers of his craftie conueyaunces for that if néede so required hée had friendes to countenaunce monie to defend and an indifferent honest report to couler their lewde practises But notwithstanding his monie couler and countenaunce to set an honest shewe in the sight of the world of his subtile practises now that death attacheth him to make his accompt before the hiest you shall heare in what arerages he findes himselfe Caphos complaint THe Prouerbe saith as good wée eate the deuill As sup the broth wherein his body boilde As good wée do as giue consent to euill Which sorrie doome my coloured scuse hath foild My conscience throbs though I no fraude deuis'de My onely name that shadowed foule deceite In God his sight with Frenos fall is pris'de I féele my sinnes pluckes downe my soule with weight Yea Lyros and false Frenos both I knowe But leade the way that I must shortly goe Farre yet I am vnfit for such a iournie My compt falls short that I to God must giue If hée charge mée with filthie periurie It will not serue to saue mée from repreue To say how that for feare of after shame A manifest vntrueth I durst not sweare But Frenos gott a post knight of my name In stéede of mée that did both sweare and steare I must confesse I gaue thereto consent And God no doubt will punish my intent My subtile steightes to shadowe foule abuse May well lye hid and no man knowe the same But God doth knowe the fraude I put in vse For others heede deserued open shame The man that is with sicknes neuer vext Hath séeldome care what kinde of meate hée eates When such as are with surfets oft perplext Séeme daintie still to féede on diuers meates In worldly churles obserued is the like They feede on fraude till infamie them strike Marke well my woordes you worldlinges of all sortes But citizens your natures best I knowe There are of you haue méetely good reportes For riches sake and outward honest showe But how you get your monstrous heapes of gold Your conscience knowes and I can somewhat tell Your secret craft so séeldome is controld As what you gett you thinke you gett it well But how so héere your reckonings séemeth true A day will come when you shall count a newe Bée you reclaymde by others soudaine fall Sighe for your owne when others shames you sée Thinke that they are but patternes of your thrall If iustice should on you auenged bée A thousand wayes the highest séekes to winne