he to sting And for to tell at last my great seruise From thousand dishonesties haue I him drawen That by my meanes him in no maner wise Neâ—eâ— vile pleasure once hath ouerthrowen wheâ—â— in his dede shame hath him alwaies gnawen Dâ—â—ting râ—port that should come to her eare Whom now he blames her wonted he to feare What euer he hath of any honest custome Of her and me that holdes he euery whit But lo yet neuer was there nightly fantome So farre in errour as he is from his wit To plain on vs he striueth with the bit Which may rule him and do him ease and pain And in one hower make al his grief his gain But one thing â—â—t there is aboue all other I gaue him winâ—es wherwith he might vpflie To honour and fame and if he would to higher Then mortal thinges aboue the starry sâ—ie Considering the pleasure that an eye Might geue in earth by reason of the loue what should that be that lasteth still aboue And he the same himself hath sayd ere this But now forgotten is both that and I That gaue her him his onely wealth and blisse And at this word with dedly shreke and cry Thou gaue her once quod I but by and by Thou toke her ayen from me that wo worth the. Not I but price more worth than thou quod he At last eche other for himself concluded I trembling still but he with small reuerence Lo thus as we eche other haue accused Dere Ladâ— now we waite thine onely sentence She smiling at the whiâ—ted audience It liketh me quod she to haue heard your question But lenger time doth asâ— a resolucion The louers sorowfull state maketh him write sorowfull songes but Souche his loue may change the same MAruell no more altho The songes I sing do mone For other life then wo I neuer proued none And in my hart also Is grauen with letters dâ—â—e A thousand sighes and mo A flood of teares to wepe How may a man in smart Finde matter to reioyce How may a moorning hart Set foorth a pleasant voyce Play who so canâ— that part Nedes must in me appere How fortune ouâ—rthwart Doth cause my moorning chere Perdy there is no man If he saw neuer sight That perfitly tell can The nature of the â—ight Alas how should I than That neuer taste but sowre But do as I began Continually to lowre But yet perchance some chance May chance to change my tune And when Souch chance doth chance Then shall I thank fortune And if I haue Souch chance Perchance ere it be â—ong For Souch a pleasant chance To sing some pleasant song The louer complaineth himself forsaken VVHere shall I haue at mine owne wyll Teares to complain Where shall I set Such sighes that I may sigh my fill And then againe my plaintes repete For though my plaint shall haue none end My teares cannot suffise my wo. To mone my harm haue I no friend For fortunes friend is mishaps fo Comfort God wot els haue I none But in the winde to wast my wordes Nought moueth you my deadly mone But still you turne it into bordes I speake not now to moue your hart That you should rue vpon my pain The sentence geuen may not reuert I know such labour were but vain But sins that I for you my dere Haue lost that thing that was my best A right small losse it must appere To lese these wordes and all the rest But though they sparkle in the winde Yet shall they shew your falsed faith Which is returned to his kinde For like to like the prouerb saith Fortuneâ— and you did me auance Me thought I swam and could not drown Happiest of all but my mischance Did lift me vp to throw me down And you with her of cruelnesse Did set your foote vpon my neck Me and my welfare to oppresse without offence your hart to wreck Where are your pleasant wordes alas where is your faith your stedfastnesse There is no more but all doth passe And I am left all comfortlesse But sins so much it doth you greue And also me my wretched life Haue here my troth Nought shall releue But death alone my wretched strife Therfore farewell my life my death My gain my losse my salue my sore Farewell also with you my breath For I am gone for euermore Of his loue that pricked her finger with a nedle SHe sat and sowed that hath done me the wrong Wherof I plain and haue done in my â— day And whilst she heard my plâ—inâ— in pâ—â—eous song She wisht my hart the samplar that it layâ— The blinde master whom I haue serued so long Grudging to heare that he did heare her say Made her own weapon do her finger blede To fele if pricking were so good in dede Of the same VVHat man hath heard such cruelty before That when my plaint remembred her my wo That caused it she cruell more and more Wished eche stitche as she did sit and sow Had prickt my hart for to encrease my sore And as I think she thought it had been so For as she thought this is his hart in dede She pricked hard and made her self to blede Request to Cupide for reuenge of his vnkinde loue BEhold Loue thy power how she despiseth My greuous pain how litle she regardeth The solemne othe wherof she takes no cure Broken she hath and yet she bydeth sure Right at her ease and litle thee she drâ—dâ—â—h Weaponed thou art and she vnarmed sitteâ—â— To thee disdainfull all her lâ—fe she leadeâ—â—â— To me spitefull without iust cause or mâ—â—sure Behold Loue how proudly she triumpheth I am in hold but if thee pitie meueth Go bend thy bow that stony hartes breaketh And with some stroke reuenge the great displeasure Of thee and him that sorow doth endure And as his Lord thee lowly here entreateth Complaint for true loue vnrequited VVHat vaileth troth or by it to take payn To striue by stedfastnesse for to attain How to be iust and flee from doublenesse Since all alyke where ruleth carftinesse Rewarded is both crafty false and plain Soonest he spedes that most can lye and fayn True meaning hart is had in hiâ— disdain Against deceit and cloked doublenesse What vaileth troth or parfit stedfastnesse Deceaued is he by false and crafty trayn That meanes no gile and faithful doth remain Within the trapt without help or redresse But for to loue lo such a sterne maistresse Where cruelty dwelles alas it were in vain The louer that fled loue now folowes it with his harme SOmtime I fled the fire that me so brent By sea by land by water and by wynde And now the coales I folow that be quent From Douer to Calas with willing minde Lo how desire is both forth sprong and spent And he may see that whilom was so blinde And all his labour laughes he now to scorne Meashed in the breers that erst was onely torne The louer hopeth of better chance HE is
I lye at the point of death I call to minde the nauie great That the Grekes brought to Troye town And how the boysteous windes did beate Their ships and rent their sayles adown Till Agamemnons daughters blood Appeaâ—de the Gods that them withstood And how that in those ten yeres warre Full many a bloodie dede was done And many a lord that came full farre There caught his bane alas to soone And many a good knight ouerron Before the Grekes had Helene won Then thinck I thus sithe such repaire So long time warre of valiant men Was all to winne a lady faire Shall I not learne to suffer then And thinck my life well spent to be Seruing a worthier wight than she Therfore I neuer will repent But paines contented still endure For like as when rough winter spent The pleasant spring straight draweth in vre So after raging stormes of care Ioyfull at length may be my fare Complaint of the absence of her louer being vpon the sea O Happy damâ—s that may embrace The frute of your belight Help to bewaile the wofull case And eke the heauy plight Of me that wonted to reioyce The fortune of my pleasant choyce Good ladies help to fill my moorning voycâ— In ship freight with remembrance Of thoughts and pleasures past He sailes that hath in gouernance My life while it will last With scalding sighes for lack of gale Furdering his hope that is his sail Toward me the swete port of his auailâ— Alas how oft in dreames I see Those eyes that were my food Which somtime so delited me That yet they do me good Wherwith I wake with his returne Whose absent flame did make me burne But when I finde the lacke Lord how I mourne When other louers in armes acrosse Reioyce their chiefe delight Drowned in teares to mourne my losse I stand the bitter night In my window where I may see Before the windes how the clowdes â—lee Lo what a Mariner loue hath made me And in grene waues when the salt flood Doth rise by rage of winde A thousand fansies in that mood Assaile my restlesse minde Alas now drencheth my swete fo That with the spoyle of my hart did go And left me but alas why did he so And when the seas ware calme againe To chase fro me annoye My doutful hope doth cause me plaine So dread cuts of my ioye Thus is my wealth mingled with wo And of eche thought a dout doth growe Now he comes will he come alas no no. Complaint of a diyng louer refused vpon his ladies iniust mista king of his writing IN winters iust returne when Borâ—as gan his raigne And euery tree vnclothed fast as nature taught them plaine In misty morning darke as sheepe are then in holde I hyed me fast it sat me on my sheepe for to vnfolde And as it is a thing that louers haue by fittes Under a palme I heard one cry as he had lost his wittes Whose voyce did ring so shrill in vttering of his plaint That I amazed was to heare how loue could him attaint Ah wretched man quod he come death and ridde this wo A iust reward a happy end if it may chauuce thee so Thy pleasures past haue wrought thy wo without redresse If thou hadst neuer felt no ioy thy smart had bene the lesse And retchlesse of his life he gan both sighe and grone A rufull thing me thought it was to hear him make such mone Thou cursed pen sayd he wo worth the bird thee bare The man the knife and all that made thee wo be to their share Wo worth the time and place where I so could enditâ— And wo be it yet once againe the pen that so can write Unhappy hand it had ben happy time for me If when to write thou learned first vnioynted hadst thou be Thus cursed he himself and euery other wight Saue her alone whom loue him bound to serue both day night Which when I heard and saw how he himself fordid Against the ground with bloody strokes himself euen ther to rid Had ben my heart of flint it must haue melted tho For in my life I neuer sawe a man so full of wâ— With teares for his redresse I rashly to him ran And in my armes I caught him fast and thus I spake him than What woful wight art thou that in such heauy case Tormentes thy selfe with such despite here in this desert place Wherwith as al agast fulfâ—ld with irâ— and dred He cast on me â—â—â—ring loke with colour pale and ded Nay wh 〈…〉 ou quod he that in this heauâ— plight Doest find 〈◊〉 most wofull wretch that life hath in despighte I am quot◠〈◊〉 out poore and simple in degre A shepardes charge I haue in hand vnworthy though I be With that he gaue a sighe as though the skie shold fall And lowd alas he shriked oft and Shepard gan he call Come hie the fast at ones and print it in thy hart So thou shalt know and I shall tell the giltlesse how I smart His back against the tree sore febled al with faint With weary sprite he stretcht him vp and thus he told his plaint Ones in my hart quoth he it chaunced me to loue Such one in whom hath nature wrought her cuÌ„ning for to proue And sure I can not say but many yeres were spent with such good will so recompenst as both we were content Wherto then I me bound and she likewise also The sunne should runne his course awry ere we this faith forgo who ioied then but I who had this worldes blisse Who might compare a life to mine that neuer thought on this But dwelling in this truth amid my greatest ioy Is me befallen a greater losse then Priam had of Troy She is reuersed clene and beareth me in hand That my deserts haue geuen her cause to breke this faithful band And for my iust excuse auaileth no defence Now knowest thou all I can no more but shepheard hie the heÌ„ce And geue him leaue to dye that may no lâ—nger liue Whose record lo I claime to haue my death I do forgeue And eke when I am gone be bolde to speake it plaine Thou hast seen dye the truest man that euer loue did paine Wherwith he turned him round and gaspyng oft for breath Into his armes a tree he raughtâ— and said welcome my death welcome a thousand folde now dearer vnto me Than should without her loue to liue an emperour to be Thus in this wofull state he yelded vp the ghost And little knoweth his lady what a louer she hath lost Whose death when I beheld no maruail was it right For pitye though my hart did blede to se so piteous sight My blood from heat to colde oft changed wonders sore A thousande troubles there I found I neuer knew before Twene drede and dolour so my sprites were brought in feare That long it wâ—s ere I could call to minde what I did there But as ech thing hath end
the lord Ferres sonne VVHo iustly may reioyce in ought vnder the skye As life or lands as frends or frutes which only liue to dye Or who doth not well know all worldly works are vaine And geueth nought but to the lendes to take the same again For though it lift some vp as we long vpward all Such is the sort of slipper welth all thinges do rise to fall Thuncerteintie is such experience teacheth so That what things men do couer most them sonest they forgo Lo Deuorox where he lieth whose lâ—fe men held so deare That now his death is sorowed so that pitie it is to heare His birth of auncient blood his parents of great fame And yet in vertue farre before the formost of the same His king and countrye both he serued to so great gaine That with the Brutes record doth rest and euer shall remaine No man in warre so mete an enterprise to take No man in peace that pleasurde more of enmies frends to make A Cato for his counsell his hed was surely such Ne Theseus frendship was so great but Deuorox was as much A graffe of so small grothe so much good frute to bring Is seldome heard or neuer sene it is so rare a thing A man sent vs from God his life did well declare And now sent for by God again to teach vs what we are Death and the graue that shall accompany all that liue Hath brought him heueÌ„ though soÌ„what sone which life could neuer giue God graunt well all that shall professe as he profest To liue so well to dye no worse and send his soule good rest They of the meane estate are happiest IF right be rackt and ouerronne And power take part with open wrong If feare my force do yelde to soone The lack is like to last to long If God for goodes shalbe vnplaced If right for riches lose his shape If world for wisdome be embraced The gesse is great much hurt may hap Among good thinges I proue and finde The quiet life doth most abound And sure to the contented minde There is no riches may be found For riches hates to be content Rule is enmy to quietnesse Power is most part impacient And seldom likes to liue in pease I heard a herdman once compare That quiet nightes he had mo slept And had mo mâ—ry dayes to spare Then he which ought the beastes he kept I would not haue it thought hereby The Dolphin swimme I meane to teache Nor yet to learne the Fawcon fly I row not so farre past my reache But as my part aboue the rest Is well to wish and well to will So till my breath shall fail my brest I will not ceasse to wish you still Comparison of life and death THe life is long that lothsomly doth last The dolefull dayes draw slowly to their date The present panges and painfull plages forepast Yelde griefe aye grene to stablish this estate So that I feele in this great storme and strife The death is swete that endeth such a life Yet by the stroke of this strange ouerthrow At which conflict in thraldom I was thrust The Lord be praised I am well taught to know From whence man came and eke whereto he must And by the way vpon how feble force His terme doth stand till death doth end his course The pleasant yeres that seme so swift that runne The mery dayes to end so fast that flete The ioyfull nightes of which day daweth so soone The happy howers which mo domisse then mete Do all consume as snow against the sunne And death makes end of all that life begunneâ— Since death shall dure till all the world be wast what meaneth man to drede death then so sore As man might make that life should alway last Without regard the lord hath led before The daunce of death which all must runne on row Though howâ— or when the Lord alone doth know If man would minde what burdens life doth bring What greuous crimes to Goâ— he doth câ—mmiâ—t what plages what panges what perâ—iles thereby spring With no sure hower in all his daies to â—it He would sure think as with great cause I do The day of death were better of the two Death is a port wherby we passe to ioy Life is a lake that drowneth all in payn Death is so dere it ceaseth all annoy Life is so leude that all it yeldes is vayn And as by life to bondage man is braught Euen so likewise by death was fredome wraught Wherfore with Paul let all men wish and pray To be dissolude of this foule fleshly masse Or at the least be armde against the day That they be found good souldiers prest to passe From life to death from death to life again To such a life as euer shall remain The tale of Pigmalion with conclusion vpon the beautie of his loue IN Grece somtime there dwelt a man of worthy fame To graue in stone his cunning was PygmalioÌ„ was his name To make his fame endure when death had him bereft He thought it good of his own hand some filed worke were left In secrete studie then such worke he gan deuise â—s might his cunning best commend and please the lookers eyesâ— A courser faire he thought to graue barbd for the field And on his back a semely knight well armd with speare shield Or els some foule or fish to graue he did deuise And still within his wandering thoughtes new fansies did arise Thus varied he in minde what enterprise to take Till fansy moued his learned hand a woman fayre to make Wheâ—eon he stayde and thought such parfite fourme to frame Whereby he might amaze all Grece and winne immortall name Of yuorie white he made so faire a woman than That nature scornd her perfitnesse so taught by craft of man Wel shaped were her lims ful comly was her face Ech litle vain most liuely coucht eche part had semely grace Twixt nature Pigmalion there might appere great strife So semely was this ymage wrought it lackt nothing but life His curious eye beheld his own deuised work And gasing oft thereon he found much venome there to lurk For all the featurde shape so did his fansie moue That with his idoll whom he made Pygmalion fell in loue To whom he honour gaue and deckt with garlandes swete And did adourn with iewels rich as is for louers mete Somtimes on it he fawnd somtime in rage would cry It was a wonder to behold how fansy bleard his eye Since that this ymage dum enflamde so wise a man My dere alas since I you loue what wonder is it than In whom hath nature set the glory of her name And brake her moulde in great dispaire your like she coulde not frame The louer sheweth his wofull state and praieth pitie LYke as the Larke within the Marlians foote With piteous tunes doth chirp her yelden lay So sing I now seyng none other boote My rendering song and to your well obey
my life The misery that it hath felt That nought hath had but wo and strife And hotte desires my hart to melt O Lord how sodaine was the change From such a pleasant liberty The very thraldome semed straunge But yet there was no remedy But I must yeld and geue vp all And make my guide my chefist fo And in this wise became I thrall Lo loue and happe would haue it â—o I suffred wrong and held my peace I gaue my teares good leaue to ronne And neuer would seke for redresse â—ut hept to liue as I begonne For what it was that might me ease He liued not that might it know Thus dranke I all mine owne disease And all alone bewailde my wo. I here was no sight that mighte me pleaseâ— I fled from them that did reioyce And oft alone my 〈◊〉 to â—ase I would bewaile with wofull voyce My life my state my misery And curse my selfe al my daies Thus wrought I with my fantasie And sought my helpe none other waies Saue sometime to my selfe alone When farre of was my helpe God wot Lowde would I crye My life is gone My dere if that ye helpe me not Then wisht I streight that death might end These bitter panges and al this grief For nought methought might it amend Thus in dispaire to haue relief I lingred forth tyl I was brought with pining in so piteous case That al that sawe me sayd methought Lo death is painted in his face I went no where but by the way I saw some sight before mine eyes That made me sigh and oft times sayâ— My life alas I thee despyse This lasted well a yere and more Which no wight knew but onely I So that my life was nere for lore And I dispaired vtterly Til on a day as fortune would For that that shalbe nedes must fal I sat me down as though I should Haue ended then my lyfe and al. And as I sat to write my playnâ— Meanyng to shew my great vnrest With quaking hand and hart full faint Amid my plaintes among the rest I wrote with ynk and bitter teares I am not myne I am not mine Behold my life away that weares And if I dye the losse is thine Herewith a little hope I caught That for a whyle my life did stay But in effect all was for â—â—ught Thus liued I styl tyl on a day As I sat staring on those eyes Those shining eyes that first me bound My inward thought tho cryed Aryse Lo mercy where it may be found And therewithall I drew me nere With feble hart and at a braide But it was softly in her care Mercy Madame was all I sayd But wo was me when it was told For therwithall fainted my breath And I sate still for to beholde And heare the iudgement of my death But Loue nor Hap would not consent To end me then but welaway There gaue me blisse that I repent To thinke I liue to se this day For after this I plained styll So long and in so piteous wise That I my wish had at my will Graunted as I would it deuise But Lord who euer hard or knew Of halfe the ioye that I felt than Or who can thinke it may be true That so much blisse had euer man Lo fortune thus set me aloft And more my sorowes to releue Of pleasant ioyes I tasted oft As much as loue or happe might geue The sorowes old I felt before About my hart were driuen thenceâ— And for ech griefe I felt afore I had a blisse in recompence Then thought I all the time well spentâ— That I in plaint had spent so long So was I with my life content That to my self I sayd amoug Sins thou art ridde of al thine yll To shewe thy ioyes set forth thy voyce And sins thou haste thy wish at willâ— My happy hart reioyce reioyce Thus felt I ioyes a great deale 〈◊〉 Then by my song may well be tolde And thinking on my passed wo My blisse did double many folde Aud thus I thought with mannes blood Such blisse might not be bought to deare In such estate my ioyes then stodeâ— That of a change I had no feare But why sing â— so long of blisse It lasteth not that will away Let me therfore bewaile the misse And sing the cause of my decay Yet all this while there liued none That led his life more pleasantly Nor vnder hap there was not one Me thought so well at ease as I. But O blinde ioye who may thee trust For no estate thou canst assure Thy faithfull vowes proue al vniust Thy faire behestes be full vnsure Good proofe by me that but of late Not fully twenty daies ago Which thought my life was in such state That nought might worke my hart this wo. Yet hath the enemy of myne case Cruell mishappe that wretched wight Now when my life did most me please Deuised me such cruel spight That from the hiest place of all As to the pleasing of my thought Downe to the deepest am I fall And to my helpe auaileth noughâ— Lo thus are all my ioyes quite gone And I am brought from happinesse Continually to wayle and mone Lo such is fortunes stablenesse In welth I thought such suertie That pleasure should haue ended neuer But now alas aduersitie Doth make my singyng cease â—or euer O brittle ioye O welth vnstable O fraile pleasure O slidyng blisse Who feles thee most he shall not misse At length to be made miserable For all must end as doth my blisse There is none other certeintie And at the end the worst is his That most hath knowen prosperitie For he that neuer blisse assaied May well away with wretchednesse But he shall finde that hath it sayd A pain to part from pleasantnesse As I do now for ere I knew What pleasure was I felt no griefe Like vnto this and it is true That blisse hath brought me all this mischiefe But yet I haue not songen how This mischiefe came but I intend With wofull voyce to sing it now And therwithall I make an end But Lord now that it is begoon I fele my sprites are vexed sore Oh geue me breath till this be done And after let me liue no more Alas the enmy of this life The ender of all pleasantnesse Alas he bringeth all this strife And causeth all this wretchednesse For in the middes of all the welth That brought my hart to happinesse This wicked death he came by stelth And robde me of my ioyfulnesse He came when that I litle thought Of ought that might me vexe so sore And sodenly he brought to nought My pleasantnesse for euermore He slew my ioy alas the wretch He slew my ioy or I was ware And now alas no might may stretch To set an end to my great care For by this cursed deadly stroke My blisse is lost and I forlore And no helpe may the losse reuoke For lost it is for euermore And closed vp are those faire eyes That
to serue Brought vp trained in feates of war long time beyond the seas Cald home again to serue his prince whoÌ„ still he sought to please What tornay was there he refuâ—de what seruice did he shoon Where he was not nor his aduice what great exploit was doon In town a Lambe in fielde full fierce a Lion at the nede In sober wit a Salomon yet one of Hectors seede Then shame it were that any tong shold now defame his dedesâ— That in his life a mirrour was to all that him succedes No poore estate nor hie renowne his nature could peruart No hard mischance that him befell could moue hâ—s constant hartâ— Thus long he liued loued of all as one misliekt of none And where he went who cald him not the gentle Paragon But course of kinde doth cause eche fruite to fall when it is ripe And spitefull death will suffer none to scape his greuous gripe Yet though the ground receiued haue his corps into her wombe This Epitaphe ygraue in brasse shall stand vpon his tombe Lo here he lies that hateth vice and vertues life unbrast His name in earth his sprite aboue deserues to be well plast Time trieth truth EChe thing I see hath time which time must try my truth Which truth deserues a special trust on trust gret freÌ„dship groweth And frendship may not faile where faithfulnesse is sound And faithfulnesse is full of fruit and frutefull thinges be â—ound And sound is good at proofe and proofe is prince of praise And precious praise is such a pearle as seldome ner decaies All these thinges time tries forth which time I must abide How should I boldly credite craue till time my truth haue tride For as I found a time to fall in fansies frame So I do wish a lucky time for to declare the same If hap may answere hope and hope may haue his â—ire Then shall my hart possesse in peace the time that I desirâ— The louer refused of his loue imbraceth death MY youthfull yeres are past My ioyfull dayes are gone My life it may not last My graue and I am one My mirth and ioyes are fled And I a man in wo Desirous to be ded My mischiefe to forgo I burne and am a colde I freze amids the fire I see she doth withold That is my most desire I see my help at hand I see my life also I see where she doth stand That is my deadly fo I see how she doth see And yet she will be blinde I see in helping me She sekes and will not finde I see how she doth wry When I begin to mone I see when I come nye How faine she would begone I see what will ye more She will me gladly kill And you shall see therfore That she shall haue her will I can not liue with stones It is to hard a foode I will be dead at ones To do my lady good The picture of a louer BEhold my picture here well portrayed for the nones With hart consumed and falling flesh behold the very bones Whose cruell chance alas and desteny is such Onely because I put my trust in some folke all to much For sins the time that I did enter in this pine I neuer saw the rising sunne but with my weping eyen Nor yet I neuer heard so swete a voice or â—ound But that to me it did encrease the dolour of my wound Nor in so soft a bedde alas I neuer lay But that it semed hard to me or euer it was day Yet in this body bareâ— that nought but life retaines The strength wherof clene past away the care yet still remaine Like as the cole in flame doth spend it self you se To vaine and wretched cinder dust till it consumed be So doth this hope of mine inforce my feruent sute To make me for to gape in vaine whilst other eate the frute And shall do till the death doth geue me such a grace To rid this silly wofull sprite out of this dolefull case And then would God wer writ in stone or els in leade This Epitaphe vpon my graue to shew why I am dead Here lyeth the louer lo who for the loue he aught Aliue vnto his lady dere his death therby he caught And in a shielde of blacke loe here his armes appeares With weping eyes as you may see well poudred all with teares Loe here you may behold aloft vpon his brest A womans hand straining the hart of him that loued her best Wherfore all you that see this corps for loue that staruâ—s Example make vnto you all that thanklesse louers sarues Of the death of Phillips BEwaile with me all ye that haue profest Of musicke tharte by touche of coarde or winde Lay down your lutes and let your gitterns rest Phillips is dead whose like you can not finde Of musicke much exceeding all the rest Muses therefore of force now must you wrest Your pleasant notes into an other sound The string is broke the lute is dispossest The hand is cold the body in the ground The lowring lute lamenteth now therfore Phillips her frende that can her touche no more That all thing somtime finde ease of their paine saue onely the louer I See there is no sort Of thinges that liue in griefe Which at somtime may not resort Wheras they haue reliefe The striken Dere by kinde Of death that standes in awe For his recure an herbe can finde The arrow to withdrawe The chased Dere hath soile To coole him in his heat The Asse after his wery toile In stable is vp set The Cony hath his caue The litle bird his nest From heate and cold them selues to saue At all times as they list The Owle with feble sight Lyes lurking in the leaues The Sparrow in the frosty night May shroude her in the caues But wo to me alas In sunne nor yet in shade I cannot finde a resting place My burden to vnlade But day by day still beares The burden on my backe With weping eyen and watry teares To hold my hope abacke All thinges I see haue place Wherein they bow or bende Saue this alas my wofull case Which no where findeth ende Thassault of Cupide vpon the fort where the louers hart lay wounded and how he was taken VVHen Cupide scaled first the fort wherin my hart lay wounded sore The battry was of such a sort That I must yelde or dye therfore There saw I loue vpon the wall How he his banner did display Alarme alarme he gan to call And bad his souldiouâ—s kepe aray The armes the which that Cupide bare were pearced hartes with teares besprent In siluer and sable to declare The stedfast loue he alwaies ment There might you see his band all drest In colours like to white and blacke With powder and with pellets prest To bring the sort to spoile and sacke Good will the master of the shot Stode in the rampyre braue and proud For spence of powder he sparde not Assault assault
of Orestes ring Down Thesâ—us went to hell Pirith his frend to finde O that the wiues in these our daies wer to their mates so kindeâ— Ciceroâ— the frendly man to Atticusâ— his frend Of frendship wrote such couples lo doth lot but seldome lend Recount thy race noâ— ronne how few shalt thou there see Of whom to say This same is he that neuer fayled mee So rare a iewell then must nedes be holden dere And as thou wilt esteem thy self so take thy chosen fereâ— The tirant in dispaire no lacke of gold bewayls But Out I am vndoon saith he for all my frendship fails Wherfore sins nothing is more kindely for our kinde Next wisdome thus that teacheth vs loue we the frendful minde The death of Zoroas an Egyptian Astronomer in the first fight that Alexander had with the Persians NOw clattering armes now ragyng broyls of warre Ganâ—â—â—â—e the noyes of dredfull trompets clang Shrowded with shafts the heuen with clowd of darts Couered the ayre against full fatted bulls As forceth kindled yre the Lyons keen whose greedy gutts the gnawyng honger pricks So Macedoins against the Persians fare Now corpses hide the purpurde soyl with blood Large slaughter on ech side but Perses more Moyst feelds be bledd their harts and nombers bate Fainted while they geue back and fall to flight The lightening Macedon by swoords by gleaus By bands and trowps of fotemen with his garde Speeds to Darie but him his nearest kyn Oxate preserues with horsemen on a plump Before his carr that none the charge could geue Here grunts here grones ech where strong youth is spent Shakyng her bloody hands Bellone among The Perses soweth all kynde of cruel death with throâ—e ycutt he roores he lieth along His entrails with a lance through girded quite Him smites the club him wounds farstrikyng bow And him the sling and him the shinyng swoord Hee dieth he is all dead he pants he rests Right ouerstood in snowwhite armour braue The Memphite Zorâ—as a cunning clarke To whom the heauen lay open as his boke And in celestiall bodies he could tell The mouyng metyng light aspect eclips And influence and constellacions all What earthly chances would betide what yere Of plenty storde what signe forwarned derth How winter gendreth snow what temperature In the primetide doth season well the soyl Why somer burns why autumne hath ripe grapes Whether the circle quadrate may become Whether our times heauens harmony can yelde Of four begins among them selues how great Proporcion is what sway the erryng lightes Doth send in course gayn that first mouyng heauen What grees one from another distant be what starre doth let the hurtfull sire to rage Or him more milde what opposition makes What fire dothâ— qualify Mauorses fire what house ech one doth seke what planet raignes Within this hemisphere or that small things I speake whole heauen he closeth in his brest This sage then in the starres had spied the fates Threatned him death without delay and sithe He saw he could not fatall order change Forward he preast in battayle that he might Mete with the ruler of the Macedoins Of his right hand desâ—rous to be slayne The boldest beurn and worthiest in the felde And as a wight â—ow weary of his life And sekyng death in first front of his rage Comes desperatly to Alexanders face At him with darts one after other throwes With reckles wordes and clamour him prouokes And saith Nectanabs bastard shamefull stain Of mothers bed why losest thou thy strokes Cowards among Turne thee to me in case Manhod there be so much left in thy hart Come fight with me that on my helmet weare Appolloes laurell both for learnings laude And eke for martiall praise that in my shield The seuenfold sophie of Minerue contein A match more meet sir king than any here The noble prince amoued takes ruthe vpon The wilfull wight and with soft wordes ayen O monstrous man quod he what so thou art I pray the lyue ne do not with thy death This lodge of lore the Muses mansion marr That treasure house this hand shall neuer spoyl My sword shall neuer bruse that skilfull braine Long gatherd heapes of science sone to spyll O how faire frutes may you to mortall men From wisdomes garden geue How many may By you the wiser and the better proue what error what mad moode what phrensy thee Perswades to be downe sent to depe Auerne Where no arts florish nor no knowledge vails For all these sawes when thus the souerain sayd Alighted Zoroas with sword vnsheathed The careles king there smot aboue the greue At thopenyng of his quishes wounded him So that the blood down reyled on the ground The Macedon perceiuyng hurt gan gnash But yet his minde he bent in any wise Him to forbear set spurs vnto his stâ—de And turnde away lest anger of his smart Should cause reuenger hand deale balefull blowes But of the Macedonian chieftains knights One Meleager could not beare this sight But ran vpon the said Egyptian reuk And cut him in both knees he fell to ground Wherwith a whole rout came of souldiers stern And all in pieces hewed the silly seg But happily the soule fled to the starreâ— Where vnder him he hath full sight of all Wherat he gased here with reaching looke The Persians wailde such sapience to forgo The very fone the Macedonians wisht He woâ—ld haue liued king Alexander self Demde him a man vnmete to dye at all Who won like praise for conquest of his yre As for stout men in field that day subdued Who princes taught how to discerne a man That in his hed so rare a iewell beares But ouer all those same Camenes those same Deuine Camenes whose honour he procurde As tender parent doth his daughters weal Lamented and for thankes all that they can Do cherish'him deceast and set him free From dark obliuion of deuouring death Marcus Tullius Ciceroes death THerfore when restlesse rage of winde and waue Hee saw By fates alas calld for quod hee Is haplesse Cicero sayl on shape course To the next shore and bring me to my death Perdy these thanks reskued from ciuill swoord Wilt thou my countrey paye I see mine end So powers diuine so bid the gods aboue In citie saued that Consul Marcus shend Speakyng no more but drawyng from deep hart Great grones euen at the name of Rome rehearst His eies and chekes with showrs of teares he washt And though a rout in dayly daungers worne With forced face the shipmen held their teares And striuyng long the seas roughâ— floods to passe In angry windes and stormy showres made way And at the last safe ancred in the rode Came heauy Cicero a land with pain His fainted lims the aged sire doth draw And round about their master stood his band Nor greatly with their owne hard hap dismayd Nor plighted fayth proue in sharp time to break Some swordes prepare some their dere lord assist In littour layd they lead
him vnkouth wayes If so deceaue Antonius cruell gleaues They might and threats of folowyng routs escape Thus lo that Tullie went that Tullius Of royall robe and sacred senate prince When he a far the men approch espieth And of his â—one the ensignes doth aknow And with drawn swoord Popilius threatning death Whose life and holl estate in hazard once Hee had preserude when Room as yet to free Herd him and at his thundring voyce amazde Herennius eek more eyger than the rest Present enflamde with furie him purseews What might hee doo Should hee vse in defense Disarmed hands â—or pardon ask for meed Should he with wordes attempt to turn the wrath Of tharmed knight whose safegard hee had wrought No age forbids and fixt within depe brest His countryes loue and falling Romes image The charret turn sayth hee let loose the rayns Roon to the vndeserued death mee lo Hath Phebus fowl as messenger forwarnd And Ioue desires a neew heauensman to make Brutus and Cassius soulls liue you in blisse In case yet all the fates gaynstriue vs not Neither shall we perchaunce dye vnreuenged Now haue I liued O Room ynough for mee My passed life nought suffreth me to dout Noysom obliuion of the lothesome death Slea mee yet all the ofspring to come shall know And this deceas shall bring eternall life Yea and onlesse I fayl and all in vain Room I soomtime thy Augur chosen was Not euermore shall frendly fortune thee Fauour Antonius once the day shall coom When her deare wights by cruell spight thus slain Uictorious Room shall at thy hands require Me likes therwhile go see the hoped heauen Speech had he left and therwith hee good man His throte preparde and held his hed vnmouedâ— His hasting to those fates the very knightes Be lothe to see and rage rebated when They his bare neck beheld and his horeheyres Scant could they hold the teares that forth gan burst And almost fell from bloody hands the swoords Onely the stern Herennius with grym looke Dastards why stand you still he sayth and straight Swaps of the hed with his presumptuous yron Ne with that slaughter yet is he not fild Fowl shame on shame to heape is his delite Wherefore the handes also doth hee of smyte Which durst Antonius life so liuely paynt Him yeldyng strayned goste from welkin hye With lothy chere lord Phebus gan behold And in black clowd they say long hid his hed The latinâ— Muses and the Grayes they wept And for his fall eternally shall weep And lo hertpersing Pitho straunge to tell Who had to him suffisde both sense and words When so he spake and drest with nectar soote That flowyng toung when his windpipe disclosde Fled with her fleeyng frend and out alas Hath left the earth ne will no more return Popilius flyeth therwhile and leauing there The senslesse stock a grizely sight doth bear Unto Antonius boord with mischief fed Of M. T. Gicero FOr Tullie late a tomb I gan prepare When Cynthie thus bad mee my labour spare Such maner things becoom the ded quoth hee But Tullie liues and styll alyue shall bee N. G. A ALas so al things now 5 Although I had a chek 10 As oft as I behold 12 Auising the bright 22 Alas madam for steling 23 Accused though I be 29 All in thy loke my life 34 A face that shold content 35 A lady gaue me a gift 42 A spending hand 47 Alas that euer death 62 A sâ—udent at his boke 64 As cypresse tree 74 Among dame natures 77 All ye that frendship 78 As I haue ben so wil 79 At libertie I sit and see 80 As laurel leaues 83 A kinde of cole is 97 A man may liue thrise 100 Ah loue how waiward 102 A cruel Tiger 107 Ah libertie now haue I 107 Adieu desert how art 108 Alas when shal I ioy 112 B BRitle beautie that 5 Because I stil kept 21 Behold loue thy power 28 By fortune as I lay 55 Behold my picture 70 Bewail with me 70 C CEsar when that the. 21 Cruel vnkinde 74 Complain we may 96 D DIuers thy death 16 Disdain me not 31 Desire alas my maister 41 Driuen by desire I did 44 Death and the king 78 Do all your dedes by 97 Do way your phisick 106 E ECh beast can choose 14 Eche man me telth 21 Euer my hap is slack 36 Experience now doth 67 Ech thing I see hath 69 F FRom Tuscan came 5 Farewell the hart of 24 From these hye hilles 25 For want of will in wo. 31 Farewell loue 37 For shamefast harme 43 Full faire and white she is 61 For that a restlesse hed 69 Flee from the prease 82 For loue Apollo 8â— False may he be 83 From worldly wo 99 Farewell thou frosen hart 111 For Tully late 117 G GOod ladies ye that 9 Geue place ye louers 10 Girt in my giltlesse gown 13 Go burning sighes 38 Geue place ye ladies 67 H HE is not dead that 29 How oft haue Iâ— 36 Holding my peace 107 I IN Cyprus springes 5 I neuer saw my L. lay 6 In winters iust return 8 If care do cause men cry 15 In the rude age 17 If waker carâ— 20 I finde no peace 21 It may be good 23 In faith I wote not 24 If euer man might him 32 If amorous faith 36 It burneth yet alas 40 I see that chaunce hath 41 If thou wilt mighty be 43 In court to serue 44 In doutfull brest 45 If euer wofull man 50 If right be rackt 51 In Grece sometime 52 It is no fire 62 I lent my loue to losse 64 In seking rest 66 I see there is no sort 71 I lothe that I did loue 72 If it wer so that God 75 In fredom was my fantasy 76 I rede how Troilus 81 I heard when fame 84 I ne can close in short 85 It was the day on which 90 I that Ulisses yeres 9â— If that thy wicked wife 99 I would I found not 104 I sâ—â—ly Haw 107 In bayes I bost 109 In court as I beheld 110 Imps of king Ioâ—â— 113 In working well 113 L LOue 〈◊〉 liueth 4 Layâ—â—n my quiet bed 18 Lux my fair falcon 35 Loue â—ortune my minde 36 Like vnto these vnmesu 36 Like as the bird with 43 Like as the Lark 52 Lo here the end of man 56 Like as the brake 78 Like as the rage of raine 80 Like the Phenix a bird 88 Loe ded he liues 89 Loe here lieth G. 98 M MArtial the thinges 16 My Ratclif when 18 My galley charged 22 Madame withouten 23 Myne old dere enmy 25 Maruell no'more altho 27 My loue to scorne 29 My lute awake 33 My hart I gaue thee 37 Mistrustfull mindes 40 My mothers maides 45 Mine own I. Poins 46 My youthfull yeres 70 N NAture that gaue the bee 34 Nature that taught 68 Not like a God came 95 No ioy haue I. 104 Now clattering armes 115 O O Happy dames that may 8 O lothsome