Delights for feare of force againe To sing alwayes by night But when the sunne to west Doth bende his weerie course Then Phylomene records the rewth VVhich craueth iust remorse 1 And for hir foremost note Tereu Tereu doth sing Complaining stil vppon the name Of that false Thracian king Much like the childe at schole VVith byrchen rodds sore beaten If when he go to bed at night His maister chaunce to threaten In euery dreame he starts And ô good maister cries Euen so this byrde vppon that name Hir foremost note replies Or as the red breast byrds VVhome prettie Merlynes hold Ful fast in foote by winters night To fende themselues from colde Though afterwards the hauke For pitie let them scape Yet al that day they fede in feare And doubte a second rape And in the nexter night Ful many times do crie Remembring yet the ruthful plight VVherein they late did lye Euen so this selly byrde Though now transformde in kinde Yet euermore hir pangs forepast She beareth stil in minde And in hir foremost note She notes that cruel name By whom she lost hir pleasant speech And foiled was in fame 2 ¶ Hir second note is fye In Greeke and latine phy In english fy and euery tong That euer yet read I. VVhich word declares disdaine Or lothsome leying by Of any thing we tast heare touche Smel or beholde with eye In tast phy sheweth some sowre In hearing some discorde In touch some foule or filthy toye In smel some sent abhorde In sight some lothsome loke And euery kind of waie This by word phy betokneth bad And things to cast away So that it semes hir well Phy phy phy phy to sing Since phy befytteth him so well In euery kind of thing Phy filthy lecher lewde Phy false vnto thy wife Phy coward phy on womankinde To vse thy cruel knife Phy for thou wert vnkinde Phy false and foule forsworne Phy mōster made of murdring mould VVhose like was neuer borne Phy agony of age Phy ouerthrowe of youth Phy mirrour of mischeuousnesse Phy tipe of al vntruth Phy fayning forced teares Phy forging fyne excuse Phy periury fy blasphemy Phy bed of al abuse These phyes and many moe Pore Philomene may meane And in hir selfe she findes percase Some phy that was vncleane For though his fowle offence May not defended bee Hir sister yet and she transgrest Though not so deepe as he His doome came by deserte Their dedes grewe by disdaine But men must leaue reuenge to Gods VVhat wrong soeuer raigne Then Progne phy for thee VVhich kildst thine only child Phy on the cruel crabbed hart VVhich was not movde with milde Phy phy thou close conveydst A secret il vnsene Where good to kepe in councelclose Had putrifide thy splene Phy on thy sisters facte And phy hir selfe doth sing VVhose lack of tong nere toucht hir so As when it could not sting Phy on vs both saith she The father onely faulted And we the father free therewhile The selly sonne assalted 3 ¶ The next note to hir phy Is Iug Iug Iug I gesse That might I leaue to latynists By learning to expresse Some commentaries make About it much adoe If it should onely Iugum meane Or Jugulator too Some thinke that Iugum is The Iug she iugleth so But Iugulator is the word That doubleth al hir woe For when she thinkes there on She beares them both in minde Him breaker of his bonde in bed Hir killer of hir kinde As fast as furies force Hir thoughts on him to thinke So fast hir conscience choks hir vp And wo to wrong doth linke At last by griefe constrainde It boldely breaketh out And makes the hollow woods to ring VVith Eccho round about 4 ¶ Hir next most note to note I neede no helpe at al For I my selfe the partie am On whom she then doth call She calles on Némesis And Némesis am I The Goddesse of al iust reuenge VVho let no blame go by This bridle bost with gold I beare in my left hande To holde men backe in rashest rage Vntil the cause be scand And such as like that bitte And beare it willingly May scape this scourge in my right hand Although they trode awry But if they hold on head And scorne to beare my yoke Oft times they buy the rostful deare It smelleth of the smoke This is the cause sir Squire Quoth she that Phylomene Doth cal so much vpon my name She to my lawes doth leane She feeles a iust reuenge Of that which she hath done Constrainde to vse the day for night And makes the moone hir sunne Ne can she now complaine Although she lost hir tong For since that time ne yet before No byrde so swetely soong That gift we Gods hir gaue To countervaile hir woe I sat on bench in heauen my selfe VVhen it was graunted so And though hir foe be fledde But whither knowes not she And like hir selfe transformed eke A selly byrde to bee On him this sharpe reuenge The Gods and I did take He neither can beholde his brats Nor is belovde of make As soone as coles of kinde Haue warmed him to do The selly shift of dewties dole VVhich him belongeth to His hen straight way him hates And flieth farre him fro And close conueis hir eggs from him As from hir mortal foe As sone as she hath hatcht Hir little yong ones runne For feare their dame should serue thē efte As Progne had begonne And rounde about the fields The furious father flies To seke his sonne and filles the ayre VVith loude lamenting cries This lothsome life he leads By our almightie dome And thus sings she where company But very seldome come Now lest my faithful tale For fable should be taken And therevpon my curtesie By thee might be forsaken Remember al my words And beare them wel in minde And make thereof a metaphore So shalt thou quickly finde Both profite and pastime In al that I thee tel I knowe thy skill wil serue therto And so quoth she farewell Wherewith me thought she flong so fast away That scarce I could hir seemely shaddow see At last my staffe which was mine onely stay Did slippe and I must needes awaked be Against my wil did I God knowes awake For willingly I could my selfe content Seuen dayes to sleepe for Philomelâs sake So that my sleepe in such swete thoughts were spent But you my Lord which reade this ragged verse Forgiue the faults of my so sleepy muse Let me the heast of Némesis rehearse For sure I see much sense therof ensues I seeme to see my Lord that lechers lust Procures the plague and vengaunce of the highest I may not say but God is good and iust Although he scourge the furdest for the nighest The fathers fault lights sometime on the sonne Yea foure discents it beares the burden stil Whereby it falles when vaine delight is done That dole steppes in and wields the world at wil. O whoredom whoredome hope
by like or very neare of kin Then followed them Detraction and Deceite Sym Swash did beare a buckler for the first False witnesse was the seconde seemely page And thus wel armd and in good equipage This Galant came vnto my fathers courte And wood my sister for she elder was And fayrer eke but out of doubt at least Hir pleasant speech surpassed mine somuch That vayne Delight to hir adrest his sute Short tale to make she gaue a free consent And forth she goeth to be his wedded make Entyst percase with glosse of gorgeous shewe Or else perhappes persuaded by his peeres That constant loue had herbord in his brest Such errors growe where suche false Prophets preach How so it were my Syster likte him wel And forth she goeth in Court with him to dwel Where when she had some yeeres ysoiorned And saw the world and marked eche mans minde A deepe Desire hir louing hart enflamde To see me sit by hir in seemely wise That companye might comfort hir sometimes And sound advice might ease hir wearie thoughtes And forth with speede euen at hir first request Doth vaine Delight his hasty course direct To seeke me out his sayles are fully bent And winde was good to bring me to the bowre Whereas she lay that mourned dayes and nights To see hir selfe so matchte and so deceivde And when the wretch I cannot terme him bet Had me on seas ful farre from friendly help A sparke of lust did kindle in his brest And bad him harke to songs of Satyra I selly soule which thought no body harme Gan cleere my throte and straue to sing my best Which pleasde him so and so enflamde his hart That he forgot my sister Poesys And rauisht me to please his wanton minde Not so content when this foule fact was done Yfraught with feare least that I should disclose His incest and his doting darke desire He causde straight wayes the formost of his crew VVith his compeare to trie me with their tongues And when their guiles could not preuaile to winne My simple mynde from tracke of trustie truth Nor yet deceyt could bleare mine eyes frō fraud Came Slander then accusing me and sayde That I entist Delyght to loue luste Thus was I caught poore wretch that thought none il And furthermore to cloke their own offence They clapt me fast in cage of Myserie And there I dwelt full many a doleful day Vntil this theefe this traytor vaine Delight Cut out my tong with Raysor of Restraynte Least I should wraye this bloudy deede of his And thus my Lord I liue a weary life Not as I seemd a man sometimes of might But womālike whose teares must venge hir harms And yet euen as the mighty gods did daine For Philomele that thoughe hir tong were cutte Yet should she sing a pleasant note sometimes So haue they deignd by their deuine decrees That with the stumps of my reproued tong I may sometimes Reprouers deedes reproue And sing a verse to make them see themselues Then thus I sing this selly song by night Like Phylomene since that the shining Sunne Is now eclypst which wont to lend me light And thus I sing in corner closely cowcht Like Philomene since that the stately cowrts Are now no place for such poore byrds as I. And thus I sing with pricke against my brest Like Philomene since that the priuy worme Which makes me see my reckles youth mispent May well suffise to keepe me waking still And thus I sing when pleasant spring begins Like Philomene since euery ianglyng byrd Which squeaketh loude shall neuer triumph so As though my muze were mute and durst not sing And thus I sing with harmelesse true intent Like Philomene when as percase meane while The Cuckowe suckes mine eggs by foule deceit And lickes the sweet which might haue fed me first And thus I meane in mournfull wise to sing A rare conceit God graunt it like my Lorde A trustie tune from auncient clyffes conueyed A playne song note which cannot warble well For whyles I mark this weak and wretched world Wherin I see howe euery kind of man Can flatter still and yet deceiues himselfe I seeme to muse from whence such errour springs Such grosse cōceits such mistes of darke mistake Such Surcuydry such weening ouer well And yet in dede such dealings too too badde And as I stretch my weary wittes to weighe The cause therof and whence it should proceede My battred braynes which now be shrewdly brusde With cānon shot of much misgouernmēt Can spye no cause but onely one conceite Which makes me thinke the world goeth stil awry I see and sigh bycause it makes me sadde That peuishe pryde doth al the world possesse And euery wight will haue a looking glasse To see himselfe yet so he seeth him not Yea shal I say a glasse of common glasse Which glistreth bright and shewes a seemely shew Is not enough the days are past and gon That Berral glasse with foyles of louely brown Might serue to shew a seemely fauord face That age is deade and vanisht long ago Which thought that steele both trusty was true And needed not a foyle of contraries But shewde al things euen as they were in deede In steade whereof our curious yeares can finde The christal glas which glimseth braue bright And shewes the thing much better than it is Beguylde with foyles of sundry subtil sights So that they seeme and couet not to be This is the cause beleue me now my Lorde That Realmes do rewe from high prosperity That kings decline from princely gouernment That Lords do lacke their auncestors good wil That knights consume their patrimonie still That gentlemen do make the merchant rise That plowmen begge and craftesmen cānot thriue That clergie quayles and hath smal reuerence That laymen liue by mouing mischiefe stil That courtiers thriue at latter Lammas day That officers can scarce enrich their heyres That Souldiours sterue or prech at Tiborne crosse That lawyers buye and purchase deadly hate That merchants clyme and fal againe as fast That roysters brag aboue their betters rome That sicophants are counted iolly guests That Lais leades a Ladies life alofte And Lucrece lurkes with sobre bashful grace This is the cause or else my Muze mistakes That things are thought which neuer yet were wrought And castels buylt aboue in lofty skies Which neuer yet had good foundation And that the same may seme no feined dreame But words of worth and worthy to be wayed I haue presumde my Lord for to present With this poore glasse which is of trustie Steele And came to me by wil and testament Of one that was a Glassemaker in deede Lucylius this worthy man was namde Who at his death bequeathd the christal glasse To such as loue to seme but not to be And vnto those that loue to see themselues How foule or fayre soeuer that they are He gan bequeath a glasse of trustie
in mens weedes With dutchkin dublets and with Ierkins iaggde With Spanish spangs and ruffes fet out of France With high copt hattes and fethers flaunt a flaunt They be so sure euen VVo to Men in dede Nay then my lorde let shut the glasse apace High time it were for my pore Muse to winke Since al the hands al paper pen and inke Which euer yet this wretched world possest Cannot describe this Sex in colours dewe No no my Lorde we gased haue inough And I too much God pardon me therfore Better loke of than loke an ace to farre And better mumme than meddle ouermuch But if my Glasse do like my louely lorde VVe wil espie some sunny Sommers day To loke againe and see some semely sights Meane while my Muse right hūbly doth besech That my good lorde accept this ventrous verse Vntil my braines may better stuffe deuise FINIS Tam Marti quà m Mercurio The complaynt of Phylomene An Elegye compyled by George Gascoigne Esquire Tam Marti quà m Mercurio IMPRINTED AT London by Henrie Binneman for Richarde Smith Anno Domini 1576. To the right honorable my singuler good Lord the L. Gray of Wilton Knight of the most noble order of the Garter RYght noble when I had determined with myself to write the Satire before recited called the Steele Glasse and had in myne Exordium by allegorie compared my case to that of fayre Phylomene abused by the bloudy king hir brother by lawe I called to minde that twelue or thirtene yeares past I had begonne an Elegye or sorrowefull song called the Complainte of Phylomene the which I began too deuise riding by the high way betwene Chelmisford and London and being ouertaken with a sodaine dash of Raine I changed my copy and stroke ouer into the Deprofundis which is placed amongst my other Poesies leuing the cōplaint of Phylomene vnfinished and so it hath continued euer since vntil this present moneth of April 1575. whē I begonne my Steele Glasse And bycause I haue in mine Exordium to the Steele Glasse begonne with the Nightingales notes therfore I haue not thought amisse now to finish pece vp the saide Cōplaint of Philomene obseruing neuerthelesse the same determinate inuention which I had propounded and begonne as is saide twelue yeeres nowe past The which I presume with the rest to present vnto your honor nothing doubting but the same wil accept my good entente therin And I furder beseche that your lordship wil voutsafe in reading ther of to gesse by change of style where the renewing of the verse may bee most apparantly thought to begin I wil no furder trouble your honor with these rude lines but besech of the almightie long to preserue you to his pleasure From my pore house in VValkamstowe the sixtenth of April 1575. Your L. bounden and most assured George Gascoigne PHILOMENE IN sweet April the messēger to May When hoonie drops do melt in golden showres When euery byrde records hir louers lay And westerne windes do foster forth our floures Late in an euen I walked out alone To heare the descant of the Nightingale And as I stoode I heard hir make great moane Waymenting much and thus she tolde hir tale These thriftles birds quoth she which spend the day In nedlesse notes and chaunt withouten skil Are costly kept and finely fedde alway With daintie foode wherof they feede theirfil But I which spend the darke and dreadful night In watch ward whē those birds take their rest Forpine my selfe that Louers might delight To heare the notes which breake out of my breste I leade a life to please the Louers minde And though god wot my foode be light of charge Yet seely soule that can no fauour finde I begge my breade and seke for seedes at large The Throstle she which makes the wood to ring With shryching lowde that loth some is to heare Is costly kept in cage O wondrous thing The Mauis eke whose notes are nothing cleare Now in good sooth quoth she sometimes I wepe To see Tom Tyttimouse so much set by The Finche which singeth neuer a note but peepe Is fedde aswel nay better farre than I. The Lennet and the Larke they sing alofte And coumpted are as Lordes in high degree The Brandlet saith for singing sweete and softe In hir conceit there is none such as she Canara byrds come in to beare the bell And Goldfinches do hope to get the gole The tatling Awbe doth please some fancie wel And some like best the byrde as Blacke as cole And yet could I if so it were my minde For harmony set al these babes to schole And sing such notes as might in euery kinde Disgrace them quight make their corage coole But should I so no no so wil I not Let brutish beasts heare such brute birds as those For like to like the prouer be saith I wot And should I then my cunning skil disclose For such vnkinde as let the cukowe flye To sucke mine eggs whiles I sit in the thicke And rather praise the chattring of a pye Than hir that sings with brest against a pricke Nay let them go to marke the cuckowes talke The iangling Iay for that becomes them wel And in the silent night then let them walke To heare the Owle how she doth shryche and yel And from henceforth I wil no more constraine My pleasant voice to sounde at their request But shrowd my selfe in darke some night raine And learne to cowche ful close vpon my neast Yet if I chaunce at any time percase To sing a note or twaine for my disporte It shal be done in some such secret place That fewe or none may ther vnto resorte These flatterers in loue which falshood meane Not once aproch to heare my pleasant song But such as true and sted fast louers bene Let them come neare for else they do me wrong And as I gesse not many miles from hence There stands a squire with pangs of sorrow prest For whom I dare auowe in his defence He is as true in Loue as is the best Him wil I cheare with chaunting al this night And with that word she gan to cleare hir throate But such a liuely song now by this light Yet neuer hearde I such another note It was thought me so pleasant and so plaine Orphaeus harpe was neuer halfe so sweete Tereu Tereu and thus she gan to plaine Most piteously which made my hart to greeue Hir second note was fy fy fy fy fy And that she did in pleasant wise repeate With sweete reports of heauenly harmonie But yet it seemd hir gripes of griefe were greate For when she had so soong and taken breath Then should you heare hir heauy hart so throbbe As though it had bene ouercome with death And yet alwayes in euery sigh and sobbe She shewed great skil for tunes of vnisone Hir Iug Iug Iug in griefe had such a grace Then stinted she as if hir song were done And ere
The Steele Glas. A Satyre coÌ„piled by George Gascoigne Esquire Togither with The Complainte of Phylomene An Elegie deuised by the same Author Tam Marti quà m Mercurio Printed for Richard Smith TAM MARTI QVAM MERCVRIO To the right honorable his singular good Lord the Lord Gray of Wilton Knight of the most honorable order of the Garter George Gascoigne Esquire wisheth long life with encrease of honour according to his great worthinesse RIght honorable noble and my singular good Lorde if mine abilitie were any way correspondent too the iust desires of my hart I should yet thinke al the same vnable to deserue the least parte of your goodnesse in that you haue alwayes deygned with chearefull looke to regarde me with affabylitie to heare me with exceeding curtesy to vse me with graue aduice to directe mee with apparant loue to care for me and with assured assistance to protect me All which when I do remeÌ„ber yet it stirreth in me an exceeding zeale to deserue it and that zeale begetteth bashefull dreade too performe it The dread is ended in dolours and yet those dolours receiue the very same affection whiche firste moued in mee the desire to honour and esteme you For whiles I bewayle mine own vnworthynesse and therewithal do set before mine eyes the lost time of my youth mispent I seeme to see a farre of for my comfort the high and triumphant vertue called Magnanimitie accoÌ„panied with industrious diligeÌ„ce The first doth encourage my faynted harte and the seconde doth beginne already to employ my vnderstanding for ahlas my good Lorde were not the cordial of these two pretious Spiceries the corrosyue of care woulde quickely confounde me I haue misgouerned my youth I confesse it what shall I do then shall I yelde to mysery as a iust plague apointed for my portion Magnanimitie saith no and Industrye seemeth to be of the very same opinion I am derided suspected accused and condemned yea more than that I am rygorously reiected when I proffer amendes for my harme Should I therefore dispayre shall I yeelde vnto iellosie or drowne my dayes in idlenesse bycause their beginning was bathed in wantonnesse Surely my Lord the Magnanimitie of a noble minde will not suffer me and the delightfulnesse of dilygence doth vtterly forbydde me Shal I grudge to be reproued for that which I haue done in deede when the sting of Emulation spared not to touche the worthy Scipio with most vntrue surmyses Yea Themistocles when he had deliuered al Greece from the huge host of Xerxes was yet by his vnkinde citizens of Athens expulsed from his owne and constrained to seeke fauour in the sight of his late professed enemie But the Magnanimitie of their mindes was such as neither could aduersytie ouercome them nor yet the iniurious dealing of other men coulde kindle in their brestes any least sparke of desire to seeke any vnhonorable reuenge I haue loytred my lorde I confesse I haue lien streaking me like a lubber when the sunne did shine and now I striue al in vaine to loade the carte when it raineth I regarded not my comelynes in the Maymoone of my youth and yet now I stand prinking me in the glasse when the crowes foote is growen vnder mine eye But what Aristotle spent his youth very ryotously Plato by your leaue in twenty of his youthful yeares was no lesse addicted to delight in amorous verse than hee was after in his age painful to write good precepts of moral Phylosophy VVhat shoulde I speake of Cato who was oâ—de before he learned lattine letters and yet became one of the greatest Oratours of his time These examples are sufficient to proue that by industrie and diligence any perfection may be attained and by true Magnanimitie all aduersitie are easye to be endured And to that ende my verie good lorde I do here presume thus rudely to rehearse them For as I can be content to confesse the lightnesse wherewith I haue bene in times past worthie to be burdened so would I be gladde if nowe when I am otherwise bent my better endeuors might be accepted But alas my lorde I am not onely enforced stil to carie on my shoulders the crosse of my carelesnesse but there withall I am also put to the plonge too prouide â—uen nowe weapons wherewith I maye defende all heauy frownes deepe suspects and dangerous detractions And I finde my selfe so feeble and so vnable to endure that combat as were not the cordialles before rehearsed I should either cast down◠〈◊〉 armoure and hide myselfe like a recreaÌ„t or else of a malicious stubbornesse should busie my braines with some Stratagem for to execute an enuious reuenge vpon mine aduersaries But neither wil Magnanimitie suffer me to become vnhonest nor yet can Industrie see me sinke in idlenesse For I haue learned in sacred scriptures to heape coles vppon the heade of mine enemie by honest dealing and our sauiour himselfe hath encoraged me saying that I shal lacke neither workes nor seruice although it were noone dayes before I came into the Market place These things I say my singular good lorde do renewe in my troubled minde the same affectioÌ„ which first moued me to honor you nothing doubting but 〈◊〉 your fauorable eyes will vouchsafe to beholde me as I am and neuer be so curious as to enquire what I haue bene And in ful hope therof I haue presumed to present your honour with this Satyre written without rime but I truste not without reason And what soeuer it bee I do humbly dedicate it vnto your honorable name beseeching the same too accept it with as gratious regarde as you haue in times past bene accustomed too beholde my trauailes And my good Lorde though the skorneful do mocke me for a time yet in the ende I hope to giue them al a rybbe of roste for their paynes And when the vertuous shall perceiue indeede how I am occupied then shall detraction be no lesse ashamed to haue falsely accused me than light credence shal haue cause to repent his rashe conceypt and Grauitie the iudge shal not be abashed to cancel the sentence vniustly pronounced in my condemnation In meane while I remaine amongst my bookes here at my poore house in VValkamstowe where I praye daylie for speedy aduauncement and continuall prosperitie of your good Lordship VVritten the fiftenth of April 1576. By your honours most bownden and wel assured George Gascoigne N. R. in commendation of the Authour and his workes IN rowsing verse of Mauors bloudie raigne The famous Greke and Maro did excel Graue Senec did surmounte for Tragike vaine Quicke Epigrams Catullus wrote as wel Archilochus did for lambickes passe For commicke verse still Plautus peerelesse was In Elegies and wanton loue writ laies Sance peere were Naso and Tibullus deemde In Satyres sharpe as men of mickle praise Lucilius and Horace were esteemde Thus diuers men with diuers vaines did write But Gascoigne doth in euery vaine indite And what perfourmaunce hee thereof doth
Steele Wherin they may be bolde alwayes to looke Bycause it shewes all things in their degree And since myselfe now pride of youth is past Do loue to be and let al seeming passe Since I desire to see my selfe in deed Not what I would but what I am or should Therfore I like this trustie glasse of Steele Wherin I see a frolike fauor frounst With foule abuse of lawlesse lust in youth Wherin I see a Sampsons grim regarde Disgraced yet with Alexanders bearde Wherein I see a corps of comely shape And such as might beseeme the courte full wel Is cast at heele by courting al to soone Wherein I see a quicke capacitye Berayde with blots of light Inconstancie An age suspect bycause of youthes misdeedes A poets brayne possest with layes of loue A Caesars minde and yet a Codrus might A Souldiours hart supprest with feareful doomes A Philosopher foolishly fordone And to be playne I see my selfe so playne And yet so much vnlike that most I seemde As were it not that Reason ruleth me I should in rage this face of mine deface And cast this corps downe headlong in dispaire Bycause it is so farre vnlike it selfe And therwithal to comfort me againe I see a world of worthy gouernment A common welth with policy so rulde As neither lawes are sold nor iustice bought Nor riches sought vnlesse it be by right No crueltie nor tyrannie can raigne No right reuenge doth rayse rebellion No spoyles are tane although the sword preuaile No ryot spends the coyne of common welth No rulers hoard the countries treasure vp No man growes riche by subtilty nor sleight All people dreade the magistrates decree And al men feare the scourge of mighty Ioue Lo this my lord may wel deserue the name Of such a lande as milke and hony flowes And this I see within my glasse of Steel Set forth euen so by Solon worthy wight Who taught king Croesus what it is to seme And what to be by proofe of happie end The like Lycurgus Lacedemon king Did set to shew by viewe of this my glasse And left the same a mirour to behold To euery prince of his posterity But now aye me the glasing christal glasse Doth make vs thinke that realmes and townes are rych VVhere fauor sways the sentence of the law VVhere al is fishe that cometh to the net VVhere mighty power doth ouer rule the right VVhere iniuries do foster secret grudge VVhere bloudy sword maks euery booty prize VVhere banquetting is compted comly cost VVhere officers grow rich by princes pens VVhere purchase cōmes by couyn and deceit And no man dreads but he that cannot shift Nor none serue God but only tongtide men Againe I see within my glasse of Steele But foure estates to serue eche country Soyle The King the Knight the Pesant the Priest. The King should care for al the subiectes still The King should fight for to defende the same The Peasant he should labor for their ease And Priests shuld pray for thē for thēselues But out alas such mists do bleare our eyes And christal glosse doth glister so therwith That Kings cōceiue their care is wonderous great When as they beat their busie restles braynes To maintaine pompe and high triumphant sights To fede their fil of daintie delicates To glad their harts with sight of pleasant sports To fil their eares with sound of instruments To breake with bit the hot coragious horse To deck their haules with sumpteous cloth of gold To cloth themselues with silkes of straunge deuise To search the rocks for pearles pretious stones To delue the ground for mines of glistering gold And neuer care to maynteine peace and rest To yeld reliefe where needy lacke appears To stop one eare vntil the poore man speake To seme to sleepe when Iustice still doth wake To gard their lands from sodaine sword and fier To feare the cries of giltles suckling babes Whose ghosts may cal for vēgeance on their bloud And stirre the wrath of mightie thundring Ioue I speake not this by any english king Nor by our Queene whose high for sight prouids That dyre debate is fledde to foraine Realmes Whiles we inioy the golden fleece of peace But there to turne my tale from whence it came In olden dayes good kings and worthy dukes Who sawe themselues in glasse of trusty Steele Contented were with pompes of little pryce And set their thoughtes on regal gouernement An order was when Rome did florish most That no man might triumph in stately wise But such as had with blowes of bloudy blade Fiue thousand foes in foughten field foredone Now he that likes to loke in Christal glasse May see proud pomps in high triumphant wise Where neuer blowe was delt with enemie When Sergius deuised first the meane To pen vp fishe within the swelling floud And so content his mouth with daintie fare Then followed fast excesse on Princes bordes And euery dish was chargde with new conceits To please the taste of vncontented mindes But had he seene the streine of straunge deuise Which Epicures do now adayes inuent To yeld good smacke vnto their daintie tongues Could he conceiue how princes paunch is fillde With secret cause of sickenesse oft vnseene Whiles lust desires much more than nature craues Then would he say that al the Romane cost Was common trash compard to sundrie Sauce Which princes vse to pamper Appetite O Christal Glasse thou settest things to shew Which are God knoweth of little worth in dede Al eyes behold with eagre deepe desire The Faulcon flye the grehounde runne his course The bayted Bul and Beare at stately stake These Enterluds these newe Italian sportes And euery gawde that glads the minde of man But fewe regard their needy neighbours lacke And fewe beholde by contemplation The ioyes of heauen ne yet the paines of hel Fewe loke to lawe but al men gaze on lust A swete consent of Musicks sacred sound Doth rayse our mindes as rapt al vp on high But sweeter soundes of concorde peace and loue Are out of tune and iarre in euery stoppe To tosse and turne the sturdie trampling stede To bridle him and make him meete to serue Deserues no doubt great commendation But such as haue their stables fuly fraught VVith pampred Iades ought therwithal to wey VVhat great excesse vpon them may be spent How many pore which nede nor brake nor bit Might therwith al in godly wise be fedde And kings ought not so many horse to haue The sumpteous house declares the princes state But vaine excesse bewrayes a princes faults Our bumbast hose our treble double ruffes Our sutes of Silke our comely garded capes Our knit silke stockes and spanish lether shoes Yea veluet serues ofttimes to trample in Our plumes our spangs and al our queint aray Are prickingspurres prouoking filthy pride And snares vnseen which leade a man to hel How liue the Mores which spurne at
glistring perle And scorne the costs which we do holde so deare How how but wel and weare the precious pearle Of peerlesse truth amongst them published VVhich we enioy and neuer wey the worth They would not then the same like vs despise VVhich though they lacke they liue in better wise Than we which holde the worthles pearle so deare But glittring gold which many yeares lay hidde Til gredy mindes gan search the very guts Of earth and clay to finde out sundrie moulds As redde and white which are by melting made Bright gold and siluer mettals of mischiefe Hath now enflamde the noblest Princes harts With foulest fire of filthy Auarice And seldome seene that kings can be content To kepe their bounds which their forefathers left What causeth this but greedy golde to get Euen gold which is the very cause of warres The neast of strife and nourice of debate The barre of heauen and open way to hel But is this strange when Lords when Knights Squires Which ought defende the state of cōmon welth Are not afrayd to couet like a King O blinde desire oh high aspiring harts The country Squire doth couet to be Knight The Knight a Lord the Lord an Erle or a Duke The Duke a King the King would Monarke be And none content with that which is his own Yet none of these can see in Christal glasse VVhich glistereth bright bleares their gasing eyes How euery life beares with him his disease But in my glasse which is of trustie steele I can perceiue how kingdomes breede but care How Lordship liues with lots of lesse delight Though cappe and knee do seeme a reuerence And courtlike life is thought an other heauen Than common people finde in euery coast The Gentleman which might in countrie keepe Aplenteous boor de and feed the fatherlesse VVith pig and goose with mutton beefe and veale Yea now and then a capon and a chicke VVil breake vp house and dwel in market townes Aloytring life and like an Epicure But who meane while defends the cōmon welth VVho rules the flocke when sheperds so are fled VVho stayes the staff which shuld vphold the state Forsoth good Sir the Lawyer leapeth in Nay rather leapes both ouer hedge and ditch And rules the rost but fewe men rule by right O Knights O Squires O Gentle blouds yborne You were not borne alonely for your selues Your countrie claymes some part of al your paines There should you liue and therin should you toyle To hold vp right and banish cruel wrong To helpe the pore to bridle backe the riche To punish vice and vertue to aduaunce To see God servde and Belzebub supprest You should not trust lieftenaunts in your rome And let them sway the scepter of your charge VVhiles you meane while know scarcely what is don Nor yet can yeld accōpt if you were callde The stately lord which woonted was to kepe A court at home is now come vp to courte And leaues the country for a common prey To pilling polling brybing and deceit Al which his presence might haue pacified Or else haue made offenders smel the smoke And now the youth which might haue serued him In comely wise with countrey clothes yclad And yet therby bin able to preferre Vnto the prince and there to seke aduance Is faine to sell his landes for courtly cloutes Or else sits still and liueth like a loute Yet of these two the last fault is the lesse And so those imps which might in time haue sprong Alofte good lord and servde to shielde the state Are either nipt with such vntimely frosts Or else growe crookt bycause they be not proynd These be the Knights which shold defend the lād And these be they which leaue the land at large Yet here percase it wil be thought I roue And runne astray besides the kings high way Since by the Knights of whom my text doth tell And such as shew most perfect in my glasse Is ment nomore but worthy Souldiours Whose skilin armes and long experience Should still vphold the pillers of the worlde Yes out of doubt this noble name of Knight May cōprehend both Duke Erle lorde Knight Squire Yea gentlemen and euery gentle borne But if you wil constraine me for to speake What souldiours are or what they ought to be And I my selfe of that profession I see a crew which glister in my glasse The brauest bande that euer yet was sene Behold behold where Pompey cōmes before VVhere Manlius and Marius insue Aemilius and Curius I see Palamedes and Fabius maximus And eke their mate Epaminondas loe Protesilaus and Phocyan are not farre Pericles stands in rancke amongst the rest Aristomenes may not be forgot Vnlesse the list of good men be disgrast Behold my lord these souldiours can I spie Within my glasse within my true Steele glasse I see not one therin which seekes to heape A world of pence by pinching of dead payes And so beguiles the prince in time of nede When muster day and foughten fielde are odde Since Pompey did enrich the common heaps And Paulus he Aemilius surnamed Returnde to Rome no richer than he went Although he had so many lands subdued And brought such treasure to the cōmō chests That fourscore yeres the state was after free From greuous taske and imposition Yea since againe good Marcus Curius Thought sacriledge himselfe for to aduaunce And see his souldiours pore or liue in lacke I see not one within this glasse of mine Whose fethers flaunt and flicker in the winde As though he were all onely to be markt When simple snakes which go not halfe so gay Can leaue him yet a furlong in the field And when the pride of all his peacockes plumes Is daunted downe with dastard dreadfulnesse And yet in towne he ietted euery streete Proud Crassus bagges consumde by couetise Great Alexander drounde in drunkennesse Caesar and Pompey spilt with priuy grudge Brennus beguild with lightnesse of beliefe Cleômenes by ryot not regarded Vespasian disdayned for deceit Demetrius light set by for his lust Whereby at last he dyed in prison pent Hereto percase some one man will alledge That Princes pence are pursed vp so close And faires do fall so seldome in a yeare That when they come prouision must be made To fende the frost in hardest winter nights Indeede I finde within this glasse of mine Iustinian that proude vngrateful prince Which made to begge bold Belisarius His trustie man which had so stoutly fought In his defence with evry enimy And Scypio condemnes the Romaine rule Which suffred him that had so truely serued To leade pore life at his Lynternum ferme VVhich did deserue such worthy recompence Yea herewithal most Souldiours of our time Beleeue for truth that proude Iustinian Did neuer die without good store of heyres And Romanes race cannot be rooted out Such yssewe springs of such vnplesant budds But shal I say this lesson learne of me VVhen drums are dumb
and soūd not dub a dub Then be thou eke as mewet as a mayde I preach this sermon but to souldiours And learne to liue within thy bravries bounds Let not the Mercer pul thee by the sleeue For sutes of silke when cloth may serue thy turne Let not thy scores come robbe thy needy purse Make not the catchpol rich by thine arrest Art thou a Gentle liue with gentle friendes VVhich wil be glad thy companie to haue If manhoode may with manners well agree You haue forgot my greatest glorie got For yet by me nor mine occasion VVas neuer sene a mourning garmēt worne O noble words wel worthy golden writ Beleue me Lord a souldiour cannot haue Too great regarde wheron his knife should cut Ne yet the men which wonder at their wounds And shewe their scarres to euery commer by Dare once be seene within my glasse of Steele For so the faults of Thraso and his trayne Whom Terence told to be but bragging brutes Might sone appeare to euery skilful eye Bolde Manlius could close and wel conuey Ful thirtie wounds and three vpō his head Yet neuer made nor bones nor bragges therof What should I speake of drunken Soldiours Or lechers lewde which fight for filthy lust Of whom that one can sit and bybbe his fil Consume his coyne which might good corage yeld To such as march and moue at his commaunde And makes himselfe a worthy mocking stocke Which might deserue by sobre life great laude That other dotes and driueth forth his dayes In vaine delight and foule concupiscence When works of weight might occupie his hedde Yea therwithal he puts his owne fonde heade Vnder the belt of such as should him serue And so becoms example of much euil Which should haue servde as lanterne of good life And is controlde wheras he should commaund Augustus Caesar he which might haue made Both feasts and banquets brauely as the best Was yet content in campe with homely cates And seldome dranke his wine vnwatered Aristomenes dayned to defende His dames of prize whom he in warres had won And rather chose to die in their defence Then filthy men should foyle their chastitie This was a wight wel worthy fame and prayse O Captayns come and Souldiours come apace Be hold my glasse and you shall see therin As though the god of warres euen Mars himself Might wel by him be liuely counterfayte Though much more like the coward Constātine I see none such my Lorde I see none such Since Phocion which was in deede a Mars And one which did much more than he wold vaunt Contented was to be but homely clad And Marius whose constant hart could bide The very vaines of his forwearied legges To be both cut and carued from his corps Could neuer yet contented be to spend One idle groate in clothing nor in cates I see not one my Lord I see not one Which stands somuch vpon his paynted sheath Bycause he hath perchaunce at Bolleyn bene And loytered since then in idlenesse That he accompts no Soldiour but himselfe Nor one that can despise the learned brayne VVhich ioyneth reading with experience Since Palamedes and Vlisses both VVere much esteemed for their pollicies Although they were not thought long trained men Epamynondas eke was much esteemde VVhose Eloquence was such in all respects As gaue no place vnto his manly hart And Fabius surnamed Maximus Could ioyne such learning with experience As made his name more famous than the rest These bloudy beasts apeare not in my glasse VVhich cannot rule their sword in furious rage Nor haue respecte to age nor yet to kinde But downe goeth al where they get vpper hand VVhose greedy harts so hungrie are to spoyle That few regard the very wrath of God VVhich greeued is at cries of giltlesse bloud Pericles was a famous man of warre And victor eke in nine great foughten fields VVherof he was the general in charge Yet at his death he rather did reioyce In clemencie than bloudy victorie Be still quoth he you graue Athenians VVho whispered and tolde his valiant facts Art thou a seruing man then serue againe And stint to steale as common souldiours do Art thou a craftsman take thee to thine arte And cast off slouth which loytreth in the Campes Art thou a plowman pressed for a shift Then learne to clout thine old cast cobled shoes And rather bide at home with barly bread Than learne to spoyle as thou hast seene some do Of truth my friendes and my companions eke Who lust by warres to gather lawful welth And so to get a right renoumed name Must cast aside al common trades of warre And learne to liue as though he knew it not Well thus my Knight hath held me al to long Bycause he bare such compasse in my glasse High time were then to turne my wery pen Vnto the Peasant comming next in place And here to write the summe of my conceit I do not meane alonely husbandmen Which till the ground which dig delve mow and sowe Which swinke and sweate whiles we do sleepe and snort And serch the guts of earth for greedy gain But he that labors any kind of way To gather gaines and to enrich himselfe By King by Knight by holy helping Priests And al the rest that liue in common welth So that his gaines by greedinesse be got Him can I compt a Peasant in his place Al officers all aduocates at lawe Al men of arte which get goodes greedily Must be content to take a Peasants rome A strange deuise and sure my Lord wil laugh To see it so desgested in degrees But he which can in office drudge and droy And craue of al although euen now a dayes Most officers commaund that shuld be cravde He that can share from euery pention payde A Peeter peny weying halfe a pounde He that can plucke sir Bennet by the sleeue And finde a fee in his pluralitie He that can winke at any foule abuse As long as gaines come trouling in therwith Shal such come see themselues in this my glasse Or shal they gaze as godly good men do Yea let them come but shal I tell you one thing How ere their gownes be gathred in the backe With organe pipes of old king Henries clampe How ere their cappes be folded with a flappe How ere their beards be clipped by the chinne How ere they ride or mounted are on mules I compt them worse thā harmeles homely hindes Which toyle in dede to serue our common vse Strange tale to tel all officers be blynde And yet their one eye sharpe as Linceus sight That one eye winks as though it were but blynd That other pries and peekes in euery place Come naked neede and chance to do amisse He shal be sure to drinke vpon the whippe But priuie gaine that bribing busie wretch Can finde the meanes to creepe and cowch so low As officers 〈◊〉 neuer see him slyde Nor heare the trampling
of his stealing steppes He comes I thinke vpon the blinde side stil. These things my Lord my glasse now sets to shew Whereas long since all officers were seene To be men made out of another moulde Epamynond of whome I spake before Which was long time an officer in Thebes And toylde in peace as wel as fought in warre VVould neuer take or bribe or rich reward And thus he spake to such as sought his helpe If it be good quoth he that you desire Then wil I do it for the vertues sake If it be badde no bribe can me infecte If so it be for this my common weale Then am I borne and bound by duetie both To see it done withouten furder words But if it be vnprofitable thing And might empaire offende or yeld anoy Vnto the state which I pretende to stay Then al the gold quoth he that growes on earth Shal neuer tempt my free consent thereto How many now wil treade Zeleucus steps Or who can byde Cambyses cruel dome Cruel nay iust yea softe and peace good sir For Iustice sleepes and Troth is iested out O that al kings would Alexander like Hold euermore one finger streight stretcht out To thrust in eyes of all their master theeues But Brutus died without posteritie And Marcus Crassus had none issue male Cicero slipt vnsene out of this world With many mo which pleaded romaine pleas And were content to vse their eloquence In maintenance of matters that were good Demosthenes in Athens vsde his arte Not for to heape himselfe great hourds of gold But stil to stay the towne from deepe deceite Of Philips wyles which had besieged it Where shal we reade that any of these foure Did euer pleade as carelesse of the trial Or who can say they builded sumpteously Or wroong the weake out of his own by wyles They were I trowe of noble houses borne And yet content to vse their best deuoire In furdering eche honest harmelesse cause They did not rowte like rude vnringed swine To roote nobilitie from heritage They stoode content with gaine of glorious fame Bycause they had respect to equitie To leade a life like true Philosophers Of all the bristle bearded Aduocates That euer lovde their fees aboue the cause I cannot see scarce one that is so bolde To shewe his face and fayned Phisnomie In this my glasse but if he do my Lorde He shewes himselfe to be by very kinde A man which meanes at euery time and tide To do smal right but sure to take no wrong And master Merchant he whose trauaile ought Commodiously to doe his countrie good And by his toyle the same for to enriche Can finde the meane to make Monopolyes Of euery ware that is accompted strange And feeds the vaine of courtiers vaine desires Vntil the court haue courtiers cast at heele Quia non habent vestes Nuptiales O painted fooles whose harebrainde heads must haue More clothes attones than might become a king For whom the rocks in forain Realmes must spin For whom they carde for whom they weaue their webbes For whom no wool appeareth fine enough I speake not this by english courtiers Since english wool was euer thought most worth For whom al seas are tossed to and fro For whom these purples come from Persia The crimosine and liuely red from Inde For whom soft silks do sayle from Sericane And all queint costs do come from fardest coasts Whiles in meane while that worthy Emperour Which rulde the world and had all welth at wil Could be content to tire his wearie wife His daughters and his niepces euerychone To spin and worke the clothes that he shuld weare And neuer carde for silks or sumpteous cost For cloth of gold or tinsel figurie For Baudkin broydrie cutworks nor conceits He set the shippes of merchantmen on worke VVith bringing home oyle graine and savrie salt And such like wares as serued common vse Yea for my life those merchants were not woont To lend their wares at reasonable rate To gaine no more but Cento por cento To teach yong men the trade to sel browne paper Yea Morrice bells and byllets too sometimes To make their coyne a net to catch yong frye To binde such babes in father Derbies bands To stay their steps by statute Staples staffe To rule yong roysters with Recognisance To read Arithmeticke once euery day In VVoodstreat Bredstreat and in Pultery VVhere such schoolmaisters keepe their counting house To fede on bones whē flesh and fell is on And yet be combred with a concubine Not one of these wil reade the holy write Which doth forbid all greedy vsurie And yet receiue a shilling for a pounde Not one of these wil preach of patience And yet be found as angry as a waspe Not one of these can be content to sit In Tauerns Innes or Alehouses all day But spends his time deuoutly at his booke Not one of these will rayle at rulers wrongs And yet be blotted with extortion Not one of these wil paint out worldly pride And he himselfe as gallaunt as he dare Not one of these rebuketh auarice And yet procureth proude pluralities Not one of these reproueth vanitie Whiles he himselfe with hauke vpon his fist And houndes at heele doth quite forget his text Not one of these corrects contentions For trifling things and yet will sue for tythes Not one of these not one of these my Lord Wil be ashamde to do euen as he teacheth My priests haue learnt to pray vnto the Lord And yet they trust not in their lyplabour My priests can fast and vse al abstinence From vice and sinne and yet refuse no meats My priests can giue in charitable wise And loue also to do good almes dedes Although they trust not in their owne deserts My priestes can place all penaunce in the hart VVithout regard of outward ceremonies That Phisicke thriue not ouer fast by murder That Numbring men in al their euens and odds Do not forget that only Vnitie Vnmeasurable infinite and one That Geometrie measure not so long Til all their measures out of measure be That Musike with his heauenly harmonie Do not allure a heauenly minde from heauen Nor set mens thoughts in worldly melodie Til heauenly Hierarchies be quite forgot That Rhetorick learne not to ouerreache That Poetrie presume not for to preache And bite mens faults with Satyres corosiues Yet pamper vp hir owne with pultesses Or that she dote not vppon Erato Which should inuoke the good Caliope That Astrologie looke not ouer high And light meane while in euery pudled pit That Grammer grudge not at our english tong Bycause it stands by Monosyllaba And cannot be declind as others are Pray thus my priests for vniuersities And if I haue forgotten any Arte Which hath bene taught or exercised there Pray you to god the good be not abusde With glorious shewe of ouerloding skill Now these be past my priests yet shal you pray For common people
eche in his degree That God vouchsafe to graunt them al his grace Where should I now beginne to bidde my beades Or who shal first be put in common place My wittes be wearie and my eyes are dymme I cannot see who best deserues the roome Stād forth good Peerce thou plowmā by thyname Yet so the Sayler saith I do him wrong That one contends his paines are without peare That other saith that none be like to his In dede they labour both exceedingly But since I see no shipman that can liue Without the plough and yet I many see Which liue by lande that neuer sawe the seas Therfore I say stand forth Peerce plowman first Thou winst the roome by verie worthinesse Behold him priests though he stink of sweat Disdaine him not for shal I tel you what Such clime to heauen before the shauen crownes But how forsooth with true humilytie Not that they hoord their grain when it is cheape Nor that they kill the calfe to haue the milke Nor that they set debate betwene their lords By earing vp the balks that part their bounds Nor for because they can both crowche creep The guilefulst men that euer God yet made VVhen as they meane most mischiefe and deceite Nor that they can crie out on landelordes lowde And say they racke their rents an ace to high VVhen they themselues do sel their landlords lābe For greater price then ewe was wont be worth I see you Peerce my glasse was lately scowrde But for they feed with frutes of their gret paines Both King and Knight and priests in cloyster pent Therefore I say that sooner some of them Shal scale the walles which leade vs vp to heauen Than cornfed beasts whose bellie is their God Although they preach of more perfection And yet my priests pray you to God for Peerce As Peerce can pinch it out for him and you And if you haue a Paternoster spare Then shal you pray for Saylers God them send More mind of him when as they come to lande For towarde shipwracke many men can pray That they once learne to speake without a lye And meane good faith without blaspheming othes That they forget to steale from euery fraight And for to forge false cockets free to passe That māners make them giue their betters place And vse good words though deeds be nothing gay But here me thinks my priests begin to frowne And say that thus they shal be ouerchargde To pray for al which seme to do amisse And one I heare more saucie than the rest VVhich asketh me when shal our prayers end I tel thee priest when shoomakers make shoes That are wel sowed with neuer a stitch amisse And vse no crafte in vttring of the same VVhen Taylours steale no stuffe from gentlemen VVhen Tanners are with Corriers wel agreede And both so dresse their hydes that we go dry when Cutlers leaue to sel olde rustie blades And hide no crackes with soder nor deceit when tinkers make no more holes thā they founde when thatchers thinke their wages worth their worke when colliers put no dust into their sacks when maltemen make vs drinke no firmentie when Dauie Diker diggs and dallies not when smithes shoo horses as they would he shod when millers toll not with a golden thumbe whē bakers make not barme beare price of wheat when brewers put no bagage in their beere when butchers blowe not ouer al their fleshe when horsecorsers beguile no friends with Iades when weauers weight is found in huswiues web But why dwel I so long among these lowts When mercers make more bones to swere and lye VVhen vintners mix no water with their wine VVhen printers passe none errours in their bookes VVhen hatters vse to bye none olde cast robes VVhē goldsmithes get no gains by sodred crownes When vpholsters sel fethers without dust When pewterers infect no Tin with leade When drapers draw no gaines by giuing day When perchmentiers put in no ferret Silke When Surgeons heale al wounds without delay Tush these are toys but yet my glas sheweth al. When purveyours prouide not for themselues VVhen Takers take no brybes nor vse no brags When customers conceale no covine vsde VVhen Seachers see al corners in a shippe And spie no pens by any sight they see VVhen shriues do serue al processe as they ought VVhen baylifes strain none other thing but strays VVhen auditours their counters cannot change VVhen proude surueyours take no parting pens VVhen Siluer sticks not on the Tellers fingers And when receiuers pay as they receiue VVhen al these folke haue quite forgotten fraude Againe my priests a little by your leaue VVhen Sicophants can finde no place in courte But are espied for Ecchoes as they are When roysters ruffle not aboue their rule Nor colour crafte by swearing precious coles When Fencers fees are like to apes rewards A peece of breade and therwithal a bobbe VVhen Lays liues not like a ladies peare Nor vseth art in dying of hir heare When al these things are ordred as they ought And see themselues within my glasse of steele Euen then my priests may you make holyday And pray no more but ordinarie prayers And yet therin I pray you my good priests Pray stil for me and for my Glasse of steele That it nor I do any minde offend Bycause we shew all colours in their kinde And pray for me that since my hap is such To see men so I may perceiue myselfe O worthy words to ende my worthlesse verse Pray for me Priests I pray you pray for me FINIS Tam Marti quà m Mercurio EPILOGVS ALas my lord my hast was al to hote I shut my glasse before you gasde your fill And at a glimse my seely selfe haue spied A stranger trowpe than any yet were sene Beholde my lorde what monsters muster here With Angels face and harmefull helish harts With smyling lookes and depe deceitful thoughts With tender skinnes and stony cruel mindes With stealing steppes yet forward feete to fraude Behold behold they neuer stande content With God with kinde with any helpe of Arte But curle their locks with bodkins with braids But dye their heare with sundry subtill sleights But paint and slicke til fayrest face be foule But bumbast bolster frisle and perfume They marre with muske the balme which nature made And dig for death in dellicatest dishes The yonger sorte come pyping on apace In whistles made offine enticing wood Til they haue caught the birds for whom they birded The elder sorte go stately stalking on And on their backs they beare both land and fee Castles and Towres revenewes and receits Lordships and manours fines yea fermes and al. What should these be speake you my louely lord They be not men for why they haue no beards They be no boyes which weare such side lōg gowns They be no Gods for al their gallant glosse They be no diuels I trow which seme so saintish What be they women masking
that past not ful a furlong space She gan againe in melodie to melt And many a note she warbled wondrous wel Yet can I not although my hart should swelt Remember al which hir sweete tong did tel But one strange note I noted with the rest And that saide thus Nêmesis Némesis The which me thought came boldly fro hir brest As though she blamde therby some thing amisse Short tale to make hir singing sounded so And pleasde mine eares with such varietie That quite forgetting all the wearie wo Which I my selfe felt in my fantasie I stoode astonyed and yet therwith content Wishing in hart that since I might aduance Of al hir speech to knowe the plaine entent Which grace hirselfe or else the Gods did graunt I might therwith one furder fauor craue To vnderstand what hir swete notes might meane And in that thought my whole desire to haue I fell on sleepe as I on staffe did leane And in my slomber had I such a sight As yet to thinke theron doth glad my minde Me thought I sawe a derling of delight A stately Nimph a dame of heauenly kinde Whose glittring gite so glimsed in mine eyes As yet I not what proper hew it bare Ne therewithal my wits can weldeuise To whom I might hir louely lookes compare But trueth to tel for al hir smyling cheere She cast sometimes a grieuous frowning glance As who would say by this it may appeare That Iust reuenge is Prest for euery chance In hir right hand which to and fro did shake She bare a skourge with many a knottie string And in hir left a snaffle Bit or brake Bebost with gold and many a gingling ring She came apace and stately did she stay And whiles I seemd amazed very much The courteous dame these words to me did say Sir Squire quoth she since thy desire is such To vnderstande the notes of Phylomene For so she hight whom thou calst Nightingale And what the sounde of euery note might meane Giue eare a while and hearken to my tale The Gods are good they heare the harty prayers Of such as craue without a craftie wil With fauor eke they furder such affaires As tende to good and meane to do none il And since thy words were grounded on desire Wherby much good and little harme can growe They graunted haue the thing thou didst require And louingly haue sent me here by lowe To paraphrase the piteous pleasant notes Which Phylomene doth darkely spend in spring For he that wel Dan Nasoes verses notes Shal finde my words to be no fained thing Giue eare sir Squire quoth she and I wil tel Both what she was and how hir fortunes fel. The fable of Philomela IN Athens reignde somtimes A king of worthy fame VVho kept in courte a stately traine Pandyon was his name And had the Gods him giuen No holly breade of happe I meane such fruts as make mē thinke They lye in fortunes lappe Then had his golden giftes Lyen dead with him in toombe Ne but himselfe had none endurde The daunger of his doome But smyling lucke bewitcht This peerelesse Prince to thinke That poyson cannot be conueyde In draughts of pleasant drinke And kinde became so kind That he two daughters had Of bewtie such so well giuen As made their father gladde See see how highest harmes Do lurke in ripest Ioyes How couertly doth sorow shrowde In trymmest worldely toyes These iewels of his ioy Became his cause of care And bewtie was the guileful bayte VVhich caught their liues in Snare For Tereus Lord of Thrace Bycause he came of kings So weddings made for worldli welth Do seme triumphant things VVas thought a worthy matche Pandyons heire to wedde VVhose eldest daughter chosen was To serue this king in bedde That virgine Progne hight And she by whom I meane To tell this woful Tragedie VVas called Phylomene ¶ The wedding rytes performde The feasting done and past To Thrace with his new wedded spouse He turneth at the last VVhere many dayes in mirth And iolytie they spent Both satisfied with deepe delight And cloyde with al content ¶ At last the dame desirde Hir sister for to see Such coles of kindely loue did seme VVithin hir brest to be She praies hir Lorde of grace He graunts to hir request And hoist vp saile to seke the coaste VVhere Phylomene doth rest He past the foming seas And findes the pleasant porte Of Athens towne which guided him To King Pandyons court There louingly receivde And welcomde by the king He shewde the cause which thither then Did his ambassade bring His father him embrast His sister kist his cheeke 〈◊〉 al the court his comming was Reioyst of euerie Greeke Oh see the sweete deceit Which blindeth worldly wits How common peoples loue by lumpes And fancie comes by fits The foe in friendly wise Is many times embraste And he which meanes most faith troth By grudging is disgrast ¶ Faire Phylomene came forth In comely garments cladde As one whom newes of sisters helth Had moued to be gladde Or womans wil perhappes Enflamde hir haughtie harte To get more grace by crūmes of cost And princke it out hir parte VVhom he no sooner sawe I meane this Thracian prince But streight therwith his fancies fume All reason did conuince And as the blazing bronde Might kindle rotten reeds Euen so hir looke a secret flame VVithin his bosome breedes He thinkes alley sure long Til he with hir were gone And hir he makes to moue the mirth VVhich after made hir mone Loue made him eloquent And if he cravde too much He then excusde him selfe and saide That Prognes words were such His teares confirmed all Teares like to sisters teares As who shuld say by these fewe drops Thy sisters griefe appeares So finely could he saine Thà t wickednesse seemde wit And by the lawde of his pretence His lewdnesse was acquit Yea Phylomene set forth The force of his request And cravde with sighes hir fathers leaue To be hirsisters guest And hoong about his necke And collingly him kist And for hir welth did seke the woe VVherof she little wist Meane while stoode Tereus Beholding their affectes And made those pricks for his desire A spurre in al respects And wisht himselfe hir sire VVhen she hir sire embrast For neither kith nor kin could then Haue made his meaning chast ¶ The Grecian king had not The powre for to denay His own deare child sonne in lawe The thing that both did pray And downe his daughter falles To thanke him on hir knee Supposing that for good successe VVhich hardest happe must be But least my tale seeme long Their shipping is preparde And to the shore this aged Greeke Ful princely did them guard There melting into mone He vsde this parting speech Daughter quoth he you haue desire Your sisters court to seech Your sister seemes like wise Your companie to craue That craue you both Tereus here The selfe same thing would haue Ne coulde
for no good happe The best is bad that lights on lechery And al wel weyed he sits in Fortunes lappe Which feeles no sharper scourge than beggery You princes peeres you comely courting knights Which vse al arte to marre the maidens mindes Which win al dames with baite of fonde delights Which bewtie force to loose what bountie bindes Thinke on the scourge that Némesis doth beare Remember this that God although he winke Doth see al sinnes that euer secret were Vae vobis then which still in sinne do sinke Gods mercy lends you brydles for desire Hold backe betime for feare you catch a foyle The flesh may spurre to euerlasting fire But sure that horse which tyreth like a roile And lothes the griefe of his forgalded sides Is better much than is the harbrainde colte Which headlong runnes and for no bridle bydes But huntes for sinne in euery hil and holte He which is single let him spare to spil The flowre of force which makes a famous man Lest when he comes to matrimonies will His fynest graine be burnt and ful of branne He that is yokte and hath a wedded wife Be wel content with that which may suffyse And were no God yet feare of worldly strife Might make him lothe the bed where Lays lies For though Pandyons daughter Progne shee Were so transformde into a fethered foule Yet seemes she not withouten heires to be Who wrongde like hir ful angrely can scoule And beare in brest a right reuenging mode Til time and place may serue to worke their will. Ye a surely some the best of al the broode If they had might with furious force would kil But force them not whose force is not to force And way their words as blasts of blustring winde VVhich comes ful calme when stormes are past by course Yet God aboue that caÌ„ both lose bynde VVil not so soone appeased be therefore He makes the male of female to be hated He makes the sire go sighing wondrous sore Because the sonne of such is seldome rated I meane the sonnes of such rash sinning sires Are seldome sene to runne a ruly race But plagude be like by fathers foule desires Dogadde a broade and lacke the guide of grace Then Lapwinglike the father flies about And howles and cries to see his children stray Where he him selfe and no man better mought Haue taught his bratts to take a better way Thus men my Lord be Metamorphosed From seemely shape to byrds and ougly beastes Yea brauest dames if they amisse once tredde Finde bitter sauce for al their pleasant feasts They must in fine condemned be to dwell In thickes vnseene in mewes for minyons made Vntil at last if they can bryde it wel They may chop chalke take some better trade Beare with me Lord my lusting dayes are done Fayre Phylomene for bad me fayre and flat To like such loue as is with lust begonne The lawful loue is best and I like that Then if you see that Lapwinglike I chaunce To leape againe beyond my lawful reache I take hard taske or but to giue a glaunce At bewties blase for such a wilful breache Of promise made my Lord shal do no wrong To say George thinke on Phylomelâes song FINIS Tam Marti quà m Mercurio ANd thus my very good L. may se how cobler like I haue clouted a new patch to an olde sole beginning this coÌ„plainte of Philomene in Aprill 1562. continuing it a little furder in Aprill 1575 and now thus finished this thirde day of Aprill 1576. A. which mine April showers are humbly sent vnto your good Lordship for that I hope very shortly to see the May flowers of your fauour which I desire more than I can deserue And yet rest Your Lordships bownden and assured VVhere may be commonly found a meeter vvoer for plesant poetry than vaine Delight Such men do many â—ymes attend vpon vaine delight Satyrical Poetry is somtimes rauished by vayne Delight False semblant and flatterie can seldome beguile satirical Poetrie The revvard of busy medling is Miserie note now compare this allegory to the story of Progne Philomele Here the substance of them beginneth A famous old satyriâ—cal Poete The aucthor himselfe AlexaÌ„der magnus had but a smal beard He vvhich vvil rebuke other mens faults shal dovvel not to for get hys ovvne imperfectioÌ„s Common vvelth Common voe Kings Veleri max. lib. a. Cap. 3. Deut. â—â— Knightes Souldiours Couetous Soldiours Soldiours more braue theÌ„ valiaunt â—ngrateful 〈◊〉 VVhat euery soldiour should be in time of peace Braggers and such as boast of their vvounds Drunken and lecherous soldiours Soldiours vvho for their ovvn long continuance in seruice do seeme to despise all other of latter 〈◊〉 and especially such as are learned Soldiours ouer cruel vvithout any regard Peasaâ—â—â— Strange Peasanâ—â— Officers There are to fevv such officers â—alse â—udges 〈◊〉 Mercâ—â—â— August 9. For the CoÌ„inaltie 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 An expotion of al such notes as the nightingale doâ— commonly vse to sing The author continevveth his discourse and coÌ„cludeth