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
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 â—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 wâ—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 â–ª 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 swerâ—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 toÌ„gues 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
sâ—ooteth home Such is their force where credite beareth sway A perfect tale although the wronged tell Their thwarting speach what they mislike will stay The wronged wight with wrath may haply swell And pleades a fresh though not so passing well Then sausie knaue how maâ—lapeart hée is Away go packe your purpose you shall mis. But if the sot which in their fauour stand Do slammer forth a patched tale of lyes Their helping speach will force him vnderstand The way and meanes afresh for to deuise To frame his talke from shew of trueth to rise A vertue straunge their wordes can bring to passe That fooles séeme wise the wise in shew an Asse UUhat fréer life then others to commaund UUhat happier state then for to liue in rest What greater wealth then what a man demaund UUhat credite like the countnaunce of the best For thralles it were a heauen to reach the left But they aloft whom vertue doth aduaunce If more may bée inioy more happie chaunce UUho will not then both séeke and double séeke To reach this hap with hazard at the first The foreward wight though fortune giue the gléeke A fresh will toyle till that his harâ— doth burst â–ª If still shée frowne in faith the man is curst A fall saith he who recketh such a losse An asse shall ride and no hie sturring horsse For proofe againe the huge and mightie oke UUhose withered roote from falling cannot stay But downe hee comes by sturdie Boreas stroke His fall god wot doth crush the vnder spray Euen so it fares with those that beareth sway If by mishap they wrapped be in thrall The poore doth beare the burthen of their fall For where as mindes by mischiefe raisâ—e too hie Sedition sowe their natiue soilâ— to wring UUhen Princes might doth make such rebels flie The leaders chiefe well horst away do fling UUhen pesaunts stay and Sursum corde sing They sue for grace safe in anothers land When toyling thralles are trussed out of hand If in abuse of both their states be best Although the best in faith is very bad Deseruing well they are farre better blest They roist in silkes wheÌ„ clownes in raggs are clad They haue their will and what can more be had Who will not then how so sly hap saith nay Séeke out this chaunce if vertue sayes hée may ¶ An Epitaphe on the death of the right worshipful maister Robert Wingfield of Vpton in the countie of Northampton Esquier TO shewe their cause of dole whom Wingfields death doth pearse Good muse take thou a little paine his vertues to rehearse Hée wel was knowne to spring from house of auncient name Yea leaue his Armes and blase his actes and you shall sée the same His zeale to serue his God his care to saue his soule His stoute contempt of Romish ragges their taxe their tyth and toule The Gospell that hée lou'd his life that showde no lesse Bare witnesse that in words and workes the trueth he did professe Beléeue his blessings else which hée receyu'd from hie The first long life in happie health till age inforst him die And then this comfort swéete to frée his age from feares Hée sawe his children liue and like in credite many yeares Sufficient wealth hée had ynough hée thought a feast Hée had ynough hée spent ynough and with ynough deceast His credite with his Prince continued from his youth A sight most rare in office plast hée trust returnde with trueth Full fiftie yeares and twoe a Iustice place hee vsde For common peace and profite both hée séeldome paynes refusde Hée wéeded wronges from right by law and not by ame Hee kept this course to helpe the poore the lewd againe to blame His life vpright and iust hée ioyde in no mans thrall His dealings were both lou'd and likt among his neighbours all His bountie at his bord his store for euery sort The hie the lowe the riche the poâ—re wrought him a rare report And thus long time hée liu'de in credite and in loue Till death to worke his ioy our griefe his force began to proue But yet hée sicknes sent for to forewarne him first Whose honest minde whose conscience cleare straight bade him doe his worst And so with hope of heauen vnto the graue hee vailde Of which hée glad his friendes as sad if sorrowe ought preuailde Viuit post funera virtus ¶ An Epitaphe on the death of the right worshipfull maister Iohn Ayleworth Esquier IF men may waile their losse that death hath ridde from woe Then giue mée leaue to wéepe my fill my sorrowes so to showe And though to bathe in teares small botes now hée is gone Yet none can leaue so firme a friend and showe no signe of mone When brainesicke I a bruse with ouer brauery caught Hée first did cure my néede with coyne then soundly thus mée taught Bée stayde for rowling stones do sildome gather mosse I tryde his ayde I likt his wordes and still shall rue his losse His losse not I alone but thousands more lament His children friends seruaunts poore with brackish teares are sprent But Oh you fillie poore whom néede doth nip and pearce With hart with hand with might maine your heapes of woe rehearse Crye out of cruell death for reauing your reliefe You are the wightes that haue God wott the greatest cause of griefe When hunger faintes your heartes when you with cold shall frease The lacke of Ayleworths foode and fire your starued limms to ease When might would marre your right his counsell sound and sure His open purse to pleade your cause the paines hée but in vre When you poore soules shall misse with him that was your stay Then shall your griefes appeare as gréene as hée had dyde to day These were his fruites of faith these almes hée did of zeale Hee wayde no showe his woordes in workes the Gospell did reueale EXHORTATIO O life of much auaile O worldlings it insue So shall you not be ledde by gold but gold be rulde by you So shall you kéepe him bright that mouldeth in your chest So shall the world speake well of you your conscience so in rest The swéetest ioyes of all though death your farewell giue So so your soules with his in heauen your fames on earth shal liue ¶ An Epitaphe in the order of an admonition written on the death of his verie friend Iohn Note of Grayes Inne Gent. Vntimely flaine the 2. of Nouember 1575. WIth teares in thought imprint both frem and knowen frende Thrée speciall notes of much auaile by Notes vntimely ende 1. Note first his honest life of euery sort was lou'd Learned hée was and vertuous both his manhoode throughly prou'd A gallant witte hee had the which hée gouernde so As did content all sortes of men when cause the vse did show Hée had both health and wealth his fortune was to hard And yet in spite of froward chaunce Fame shall his vertues gard 2. His life would followed bée
had the mischiefe wrought But oh swéete Christ thy grace this folly stayd Thou cleardst my sight which mistes of loue did bleare Unto whose praise my conscience hath bewrayd My former life deuoyde of godly feare Thou crau'st good Lord no other aduocate But prayer mine to purchase heauenly grace The which thou sayst doth neuer come too late If I repent when prayer pleades my case A contrite hart is the swéete sacrifice That thou dost séeke ere we thy fauour winne The which deare God with sighes wéeping eyes I offer vp in recompence of sinne Attending still when triall of my fayth Shall treade downe death Sathan force to réele And boldly say till latter gaspe of breath My soul through faith the ioyes of heauen doth féele The reporter To make this recantation or repentance more perfect in shewe and in déede he wrote this following admonition vnto him selfe which he termed his farewel to follie P. Plasmos farewell to folly FArewell you fading ioyes Which fancie forst me loue Adieu'go trudge your tickle toyes Though late too soone I proue O wandring head leaue off Fonde fancies to imbrace And sugred toung nowe cease to scoffe Or others to disgrace Forsake O luring eyes To faine the louing art And scalding sighes be you no spies To wound a womans hart O mynde with verses vaine No more thy selfe acquaint Forsake in time faire Venus game Ere age doth thée attaint O hart on hoyh y set Be warnd by wisedomes lawe So shalt thou scape blinde Cupides net Of which thou stoodst in awe Beware of tenne and foure Which be the cheaters fare Least hassards hard thy swéete do soure And make thy purse full bare This double charge I giue To you vnhappie handes From quarels fond y frée to liue As foe to life and landes Now last to you my legges Which be my bodies stay Frame not your gate as men on egges Whome busting doth affray Nor yet so stoutly stride As mens that beares would binde For stately steps bewrayes the pride Which harbours in the mynde My other members all Be rulde by reasons lore Let vertue reigne where vice did stall And former faults deplore Least future plagues you pricke To worke your greater paine For why against the thornes to kicke I count it more then vaine Nunquam sero The reporter I thinke it good to leaue P. Plasmos in this good moode vntill time fitteth he thus forewarned for the report of his better fortunes naythelesse for others héede I will make discourse of the souden fal of foure of his enimies whoÌ„ Gods iustice worthily cut off in the prime or before the accoÌ„plishment of their lewde desires the first of them was Lyros the only executioner of al his copartners deceites who vpon the reuealement of his and their mischieues fell into an extreme quarterne ague which haunted him vntill his death he hauing but one only childe which soudenly without any shew of sicknesse died he for feare of arrest forsooke his house and liued in corners And yet to comfort his solitarie life he oft song a counter tenure he being before a lustie and able man became soudenly a most weake and miserable creature to accompanie whiche he lost the vse both of memorie and wit. And to make an end of his miseries in steade of drinke he dronke poyson so that shortly after he was in shewe a most lothsome lepre who thus distrest forsaken of friendes and vexed with his foes for want of succour miserably yet repentauntly died whose complaint almost in order as hée confessed insueth The complainâ— of one Lyros a notable Cousener supposed at the houre of his death AMonge their falles by filthie fraude which fell Let my mishappe registred be I pray Whose wanton toyes whose wily trickes to tell But chéefe of all whose wofull plight to wray No doubt the lewde will bring to better stay For whose behoofe loe here I paint my thrall My happ my harme my life my death and all Noe shame it is for mée to showe my euill Though gracelesse life from wisedomes lore did swerue A sinne it were to liue and die a deuill So soule and all with Tantals hope should sterue My warning here for others héede may serue Fresh harmes they say will force men to beware When had I wist comes after still the faire Then couseners first to you my tale I streach God graunt my wordes to heale your woundes auaile But you will say my selfe doth néede a Leach To heire my head to helpe eche perisht naile To ridde my scabbes my Leprosie to scaile To cleare my eyes which are now darke and dim My nummed ioyntes to make both lith and trim I néede God wot if néede could fauour winne But out alas too late doth come the cure When God is bent to punish filthie sinne Though longe hée stayes in fine hée striketh sure Best therefore then ere you his wrath procure You sée your helpe with his precept agrée Ante languorem medicinam adhibe Prouide a salue before that sicknes come Prouide a mends for sinne and foule amisse Before Gods wrath your due desert doth dome For note deare friends I whilome bathde in blisse I swam in ioy my heart at woe did hisse I then had strength with health and wealth at will. My hap was cleare I sawe no clowdes of ill Then muse you will to sée so rare a chaunge As manly force to faile in prime of youth As faire to foule as health to scabbes and maunge As hap to harme as ioy to gréefe and ruth But listen well and marke what woordes ensuthe And you shall sée what forced mée to fall What wrought my woe what turnde by ioy to thrall First wéene that wealth did puffe mée vp with pride Next forme and force enforst me to aspire Then loue and lust into my brest did glide Last fretting thought so set my heart on fire That mariage néedes must coole my hoate desire My choice was good if chaunge had béene exilde But follie faith and fancie truth begilde My wandring will directed mée this course Which brainesicke youth did duelie treade and trace And entred once I fell from bad to worse I made a pray of euery yéelding face â–ª Such wanton lust doth follow want of grace Ne was this life defrayde with small expence And I God wott had not a mine of pence While coyne did last yet carelesse did I spend A poore increase can spring on such a roote When coyne was spent ne did my fancies end With youth to striue for reason t' was no boote No lacke could treade my follies vnder foote While land did last my want I did supplie With â—urchases of Dedi concessi My liuing sould and monie in my purse My lauish minde had neuer thought of lacke To geâ—t or saue I quite forgot the course For euery toy my Testours went to wracke Which did my bagges vnto the bottome sacke My coyne consumde and yearely rents thus gonâ— â–ª What refuge then once
pardon mée and graunt you to amende The reporter The miserable end of Liros rather wrought a feare in straÌ„gers 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 drâ—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
Our worldly mindes from loue of worldlie ioyes But if wée still will wallowe in our sinne The plagues are sharpe with which he vs destroyes To stay whose wrath I hould the next way is While wée haue space to sorrowe our amis Death comes God wot euen like a myching théefe With conscience cleare some wardes his wily blowe And some againe hee gawls with soudaine gréefe Whose thoughtes of sinne doth worke their double woe Had I but wayde the halfe that now I wray My coemates endes had made mée fitt for death But that is past this is my onely stay Gods mercie salues at latter gaspe of breath And yet thereof let no man hope to farre Presumptious sinnes of all the greatest are The reporter It séemeth by the deposition in Caphos complaint that the direction from time to time as concerning the afore reported cousenage came from some subtile head But whose deuise or direction soeuer it were there is yet an other a lawyer it séemeth by the order of his complaint that findes his conscience infected with Lyros Frenos and Caphos fellowship who likewise attached with death you may suppose with a troubled minde to wreast out this following complaint Pimos complaint at the houre of his death AYe mée quoth hée the case is altered quite My wylie skill that chaungde the sense of lawe My cunning Pleas that made a wronge seeme right Are nowe the bones whereon my conscience gnawe They force mée graunt the good from euill I knewe The good I left the euill too late I rue The common lawe the which I studied longe I finde condemnes mée wretch of many a crime The lawe it selfe how so we wreast it wronge Of God his lawe was founded in the prime Then since in one they both agrée in troth Abuse of one must be abuse of both And sure the one I turned as I list If I were wrong'd the lawe amends could make If I did wronge â–ª the lawe such power mist The case was chang'de the wronged might go packe Such helpes I had such quillets of delay That all séemde true that subtile I did say But now I am attached to appeare Afore a Iudge at no mannes faultes that winkes The diuell declares how I haue liued here My conscience guilt giues euidence me thinkes To learne the lawe sith studie I did vowe For breach of lawe I am indited nowe Before my God mée séemes I charged am For ayding those with credite coyne and skill Whose lewde deceites deserued whippes of shame And that to make me guiltie of their ill Consentientes your lawe sayth Ioâ—e doth say Et agentes plectentur pari pena My guiltie minde confesseth streight the act False Frenos fraud was boulstered vp by mée Condemnde of this streight comes an other fact I wronged men against all equitie When lawe doth say Hoc facias alteri In right and wronge quod vis tibi sieri This bitter doome giuen by the doome of lawe Mae sinnefull wretch as guiltie striketh mute The men I wrong'd within my conscience gnawe â–ª I spared none through pittie nor through sute What lawe did giue since I for vauntage tooke In breach of lawe should I for fauour looke O noe I must in proper person pleade Plaine not guiltie or guiltie of the crime No forreine Plea may now delayaunce bréede Untrauerst goes the Venu and the time No aduocate or letters here may serue The Iudge is bent to iudge as I deserue I guiltie am I must of force confesse By ignoraunce these faultes yet would I scuse But I vile I that had men in distresse And did their Pleas of ignoraunce refuse Mee thinkes that God doth rule mée ore with this Non excusat ignorantia iuris And thus I lye with deadly sicknes pinde Yea more my soule beseng'd with sinnefull gréefe The more I séeke to pacifie my minde The further off I wretched finde reléefe My dealinges great or rather great deceite Fall out so lewde as I no count can streight Do what I can the cause that causde my ioy When fleshe and bloud was fedde with worldly gaine Is nowe the cause that causeth my annoye Now feare of hell in place of fleshe doth raigne The soule and fleshe impugnes the other so As what likes one doth worke the others wâ—e What meane wée then sith th' one wée must displease To serue the flesh that beares no lasting sway And leaue the soule that couets still our ease Who foyling flesh in heauen doth liue for aye What worser match can any creature make Incerta then pro certis thus to take O sinfull wreth had I this ende foreséene I had not nowe come short vpon account I would haue lik't and lou'd the merrie meane Which euer doth to reckoning best amount For violents do sildome long indure They alwayes come from fortune most vnsure O wicked man had I séene heauen in thought Had I seru'd God like as in shewe of zeale I had not thus for poore mens liuings sought Nor purchast hell for lande for others weale Had I well wayde how tickle was my life I had ere this appeasd my conscience strife Or had I thought O most vnhappie wight Looke what I gaue that measure should I reape I sure had giuen to euery man his right This wicked world had not luld me asleape I had not then bene carelesse of my end My soule had watcht deathes furie to defend But oh in me the contrarie was plaste I was intyste on baytes of sinne to feede Which charm'd receits séemde suger swéete in taste But oh they say sweete meate sowre sauce doth néede Néede or not néede I proue the prouerbe true My brittle ioyes my endlesse woes do brue My conscience loathes what liked well my life My conscience rues the gaine I got by guile My conscience féeles the woes of wrangling strife My conscience wéepes at that my life did smile My conscience bléedes through that life thought a blisse My conscience wailes what life thought not amisse Well sith my life this wretched woe hath wrought Would God my life nay death through foule abuse Were noted so as all men might be taught By scriptures rule their talents here to vse And specially about their studies wall For lawyers héed would God were writ my fall Through sight whereof no doubt they would refuse To fish for gaine with nets of foule deceit To worke delayes they would no pleadings vse They sure would thinke they had account to straight My vexed mynde at death still in their eye Would will them liue as they did dayly dye If to such good my souden fall would proue Would life would last to tell a larger tale But how it proue in vaine for life I moue Death nowe assaults and wretched I must vale My breath doth fade the bell doth sound away From whence I came I néedes must turne to clay The reporters conclusion as touching the report of Paulus Plasmos aduentures and Lyros Frenos Caphos
that to make him sure In haste doth hangman spéede Where he in cogging winnes the coate For that he strikes him dead The plowman and the poorest sort Which toyles and sowes the soyle And sixe pence by the day doth gaine In recompence of toyle If he at night consume at play The price of all his hire His wife with hunger well may sterue His children fréese for fire O horned hap of hatefull harme O venom vile to tell O gréedie gulfe of endlesse griefe O horror next to hell O foule infection fraught with care O sinke of such a sent Which neuer leau'st thy poysned thrals Till all their wealth be spent For not in vaine Agrippa writ The fiends of yre you made An Art most fit for hellish ympes And not for Christians trade A spring from whence all vice did flowe Of péeuish Pride the nurse For note the dicer roystes in silke When pence be pert in purse Then must he prease in pleasures court To be of Venus traine Which soone will purge his foggie purse From all their pinching paine His body earst that able was To serue at eache assay By sloth c. is so weake That faintnesse bids him stay To shewe the valure of his mynde â–ª Till natures griefe be easde His fearelesse othes will feare the diuell When losse hath him displeasde When malice moues him to reuenge His quarels do excell His carelesse slashing at his foe Doth wray the fourme of hell An Epicure for his fare Such is his costly cates His mynde is bent to snatch and catch Yea more to rob his mates When all is spent and credite crackt Despaire then strikes the stroke And makes him gape in hope of plumbes For pence will shun his poke And thus you heare in ragged ryme For so be séemes the worke What veines of vice what lakes of losse In dogged dice doth lurke For loftie verse vnfitly serues To paint the plagues of hell Though not the same yet next thereto This dogrell rime doth tell How youthes from rod to fréedome leapt Are thrall to sharper whips Whom cousner first whom cutthrote next Whome lawyer lastly nips The braunches of the cousners trée Are whordome theft and pride From rutthrotes rout doth bondage spring With losse on euery side The Lawyer lickes that they haue left And lets him sinke or swim Pure néede then makes him leane on those That earst did liue by him Although at large I here do touch Each vice in his degrée A speciall meaning hath my wordes To graunt that some there be By rules of lawe which rightly liue And not which rules the lawe To wrest the sense to serue their turne Their clyents coyne to clewe Some merchaunts rise by honest meanes And not by craftie shiftes Some tabling halles in fayth I iudge Are frée from cheters driftes The which I trust will not repine Or quite my toyle with blame Nor yet the guiltie well may grudge Which wisely wayes the same Quod nocet docet Fiftie apples of admonition late growing on the tree of good gouernment bestowed on his especiall friends and companions the Gentlemen of Furniuals In. SErue loue and dread you God on high obey your Prince on earth Unto your betters dutie shewe be they by rule or byrth Liue you within the bounds of lawe and tether of your fée For lightly after one yeares store of scarcitie commeth thrée Use studie when your wits are fresh and aptest to conceiue But studie not the fruites of fraud your neighbour to deceiue Use exercise with such a meane as workes your bodies wealth And too much toyle doth hinder strength sloth impayreth health Make choice to choose such companie as are of honest fame For to be séene with thriftlesse men impayreth your good name Use modestie in all your wordes despraise no man too much For lauish speach bréeds great vnrest in you and them you tuch Make you no shewe of such conceit how others you excell For if you doe the wise will say wit with a foole doth dwell Inforce your selfe silence to vse when others tell a tale For babble then both troubleth them and sets your wits to sale Haue care to vse some recompence where you beholding are For trust me with ingratitude no honest mynde can bare What so your friend commits to you be euer secrete found Who giues his toung much libertie doth all his body wound Beware of taylers curious cuts for they will shake your bags The merrie meane I holde for best tweene roysting silkes rags The tipling tauerne and such like to haunt haue small desire Of all reports it is the worst to be a drunken squire Who quarels much hath care enough with mischiefe oft he ends SauÌ„ce néed throw not your selus in brals in néed assist your frieÌ„ds Shun you the trains of wantoÌ„ dames whose bayts are swéet in tast But yet in truth helth welth and fame the courtesan doth wast As high way vnto beggerie beware of dogged dice. The greatest cause of blasphemie a vaine of filthy vice Out of the merchants iurnals kéepe buy sildome wares on trust Such vsurie bites aboue the rest do try it who so lust In néede make choice to sell out right before you morgage lande What so befalls looke for no grace at any cutthrotes hande Looke what you seale read ere you seale â–ª therin trust no maÌ„s truth And writings seald kéepe safe your owne lest had I wist ensuth Haue great regard to suretiship all is not golde that shines Yet stretch your selues to help your friend with penurie that pines WheÌ„ wedlock life doth like your mynd match with a vertuous maid The mischiefe of the contrarie a plague next hell is sayd And married wel the citie leaue sing then Pierce Plowmans song For women vsde to London once will euer thether long Where so you liue haue great regarde to vse your neighbor well A good report in my conceit doth riches farre excell What some consume in painted pride good house kéep you withal Relieue the poore in any case let chaps walke in your hall Intreate your honest seruant well giue him his hired due The flatterer and the make bate wretch in any wise eschue Account that wrangling in the lawe is enimie to rest A spoyle of fame a losse of time a théefe that robs your chest This reckoning make to serue your selues you are not only born Your countrie friends children looke each one for som good turn Thrée sorts of men with speciall care salue you their néedy grieâ—e The scholer forced from his booke abroad to séeke reliefe The souldier spoyled in the wars whose hassard works your peace And next the simple husbandman who toyles for your increase So spend your time as you may leaue some monument of fame Preferre an honest death
before a life prorog'd with shame Quod cauere possis stultum est admittere A caueat to G. W. at his going into Fraunce written by his friend R.C. POst haste since so thou mak'st the coast of Fraunce to sée Thy frends aduice in baren verse good George yet take with thée Haue thou a haught disdaine which art a Bryttan bred At thy returne to proue howe that French follies filles thy hed In natiue soyle disguis'd thy selfe God shield thou showe In coate in cloake in hat in hose a French man like to go French shoes made fast with pointes in doublets syde and wide Which French men weare God wot for ease sute not thy selfe through pride What tendeth to thy thrift to folow not refuse Kéepe thou one seruant and no more but not as french men vse For wages pay not words as is the guise of Fraunce Array him not in tattered rags french like or nakt to daunce One meale no more a day is pittance very small To like wel of such french like fare few English yeomen fall Let gesture words nor wéedes inforce thy friends to say Behold a frenchman wher he flaunts if face be turn'd away Which face french like to sute good George take special héede In taste the baites are very swéete that do such cankers bréede For to pronounce thy wordes yea french and all first lose Afore thou spoyle thy English tong with snufling in the nose Thou knowest what I meane thy wit is good and quicke Yet wise men oft before they looke fast in the myre sticke But ere thou rashly leape the ditches I reueale The plainesse of my Muse bewrayes my warning is of zeale My ioy thy profite great if thy returne do showe Thy trauell tends to countries good not french man like to goe The rage of retchlesse youth thy trauell did allay And not thereby with proudest shewe to royst in garments gay That thou canst yeald account what is the countries state What newes of note do run abroade as well of loue as hate These fruits thy friends expect at thy returne to reape But stay I here into aduice my Muse too farre doth créepe She ment not to direct how thou shouldst vse thy time She ment french follies for thy heede to touch in naked rime Well since she rou'd so farre alowe what she hath sayde Mâ— inward wish for thy auayle she hath no more but wrayde Viue vale Whetstons Dreame I Waying once my harmes by others health By iust account I found the selfe same thing Which weaud my wo did worke anothers wealth Which wrought my pain to some did pleasure bring Thus cloyd with care to sâ— my lucklesse lot My senses fayld as though I â—ere a sot Yet Sopors beames so could not cleare my brest But stormes of care did shower in my thought Thus slumber swéete did yeald but little rest For pinching paine supprest that pleasure wrought But as my woes did wander here and there My thought I sawe an aged man appeare Yet such a one as care me séemd to cloy And Patience he did name him selfe to me Who bad me straight to bannish all annoy And of these doubtes I soone an end should sée Then I with him pursude the most resort Unto a place which séemde a princes court Whereas my thought sat crownd a famous quéene By due desart to beare the regall sway Whose princely rule hath seldome earst ben séene As though the Gods dame nature did obey That iustice should degrade them of each grace Her to inuest with rule of vertues mace Upon whose grace did nobles graue attend By whose foresight in peace her subiects liue And valiaunt péeres were ready to defend If forreine force would once aduenture giue By warlike frayes to worke our great vnrest With fire sworde and piercing speare in rest Within this court clothed in honest shewe Was Enuie Hate Ambition and Deceit On whome to waite whereas these fiends did go Base minded wights were ready at the gate Which neuer sought that vertue should aduance Their hautie mindes to heigth of happie chance There might I sée of men another race Which séemd to wayle their woes with wéeping eye Whom these same sprites had shakeÌ„ once of grace By false suspect and filthy slatterie And well I markt how they did crouch créepe And all for grace which euermore did sleepe Then I espide another valiant crewe Which lookt aloft by vertue to aspire Unto the roome to their desart ydewe If due desart had reapt deserued hire But vertue gapt and gained nought but plums For flatterie catcht before they fell the crums Quoth grayberd then such once was my good hap To be aduaunst to heigth of great renoune But I too soone was caught in Enuiâ—s trap Where false suspect by flatterie kept me downe Then patience I perforce a vertue made And left with losse the countries tickle trade The foorth we go into another place By outward shew wher saints my thought did sit Whose gentle speach presaged endlesse grace There loose their gaine they voucht by sacred writ These prelates were their words deseru'd their roome But sure their déedes I leaue to others doome Hypocrisie did beare a vengeance sway His double tong did bleare the clergies eye He still affirmde t' was true that they did say Gainst their deuice a thousand woes did cry Mas Ignoraunce a minister was made Who babbled much yet wist not what he sayd Yet sure this clarke did so in scriptures créepe As voucht the same to cloake each crime he could Pasce oues he tooke for grasing sheepe Which well he fed and daily viewd his fould And yet this sot with pence procur'd such grace As oft he wrought true preachers out of place Then out we goe into a pleasant plaine In armour bright where gallants we espy The captaine stird the souldiers rawe to traine Of some vnwisht vnwares their foes drewe nye The cannon crackes like thunder claps did sing At trumpets sound the horse men forward fling In formost frunt the fearelesse youthes did fight Which honour sought and so with honour dyde The fencer there prou'd not the forwardst wight Base minded Dick the spoyle not blowes applyde The coward yet a loofe did catch a licke As soone as he which throngd among the thicke When fearelesse blowes had driuen their foes away To slash and slay the cowards did not spare When spoile was giuen the souldiers paines to pay Who best deseru'd did reape the barest share Thus vallor fought and falshoode fléest the spoile The coward thriu'de who least of all did toile These bloudie broiles mée thought wée then forsooke And soone wée slipt into a stately hall Now well apayde about the same I looke For glad I was I scapt the souldiers thrall And proudly then I throngd amid the preace For that their wéedes bewrayde the men of peace Within this hall were kept the Princes courtes Where Lawyers sate as Iudges in the same To shew their griefes