Tudor @P Stuart Library Vol. I: HoweWs Devises

Henry Frowde, M.A.

Publisher to the University of Oxford

London, Edinburgh, New York

and Toronto

Howel/'s Devises

With an Introduction by Walter Raleigh

A.

the Clarendon Tress MCMVI

PR

Oxford

Printed at the Clarendon Press By Horace Hart, M.A. Printer to the University

Introduction.

THOMAS HOWELL, the author of this volume of verse, belonged to that scattered company of amateurs — gentlemen adventurers, soldiers of fortune, and students of the Inns of Court — who maintained the traditions of English poetry in the barren years between the death of Surrey and the rise of Spenser. It was a time of preparation rather than achievement. The mind of the nation was preoccupied with religious controversy and rumours of war. A multitude of translators were labouring to bring English readers acquainted with the masterpieces of ancient and modern literature. The drama was alive with experiment, every year contriving some new thing for the approval of the learned or the delight of the populace. At the Court and the Universities imitations of Seneca and Plautus were presented by young gentlemen of parts. In the open spaces around London, in the town-halls or inn-yards of the provinces, and in the country-houses of the nobility, wandering companies of gentlemen's servants exercised, in interludes and farces, the unchanging comic art of the mimic and the buffoon. Poetry, aiming at a like popularity, appealed to the people in the hobbling narratives of the ballad-singers, the agricultural ditties of Thomas Tusser, and the sacred psalmody of Sternhold and Hopkins. Yet the refined and gallant school of Surrey, whose amorous songs, used in the Court of Henry VIII, had scandalized Thomas Sternhold, was not without loyal disciples. It was in the school of Surrey that the great poets of the Elizabethan age learned the elements of their craft. Sackville and Gascoigne, Churchyard and Turberville, Edwardes and Hunnis, Phaer and Golding, the Lord Vaux and the Earl of Oxford, although none of their works ascends the highest heaven of invention, showed the way to greater poets than themselves. If Thomas Howell

deserves

Introduction.

deserves to be rescued from oblivion, it is because he too belonged to this company of heralds, and his imperfect work is full of presages of the great things that were to come.

The building of regular theatres in London, and their capture by the University wits and poets, opened a new career to men of letters. By supplying the booksellers with novelettes, and the theatre with plays, a poet might hope to support himself when patronage failed him. Greene, and Shakespeare, and not a few of their contemporaries, gained the best part of their living by their pens. Howell belongs to an earlier time, when the writing of verse was a strictly honorary employment, and patronage was its justification and reward. We know nothing of his life save what we can gather from the tributes he pays to those in whose service it was passed. Like Keats, whom he does not much resemble in other respects, he had not the slightest feeling of humility towards the public. His verses were written c for his own exercise and his friends' pleasure.' He commemorates many of his private friends in the verses which he exchanged with them, but, as few of them were notable or famous persons, their names help us but little. R. Hussie and T. Hooper, Henry Lassels, M. Staplee, and J. Nedham must rest content with such fame as may accrue to them from the mention of their names in one or other of the three small volumes of poetry which Howell produced during his life-time. Francis Flower, who is mentioned in The ^Zrbor of ^Lmlm^ Howell's first collection of poems, is perhaps the Francis Flower who was elected Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford, in 1560, and Fellow in i?6f. A. M., who contributes to the Devises, is perhaps Anthony Munday. John Keper, with whom Howell exchanged many poems, has been identified with a gentleman of Somerset who was entered at Hart Hall, Oxford, in 1*64, caged seventeen or thereabouts,' and subsequently lived in the Close at Wells. A poem included in The ^rbor of ^4mme, under the title c The Opinion he hath of his Friend absent,' is perhaps addressed to Keper, and gives us our only clue to Howell's place of birth :

Loe vi

Introduction.

Loe what mishap hath maymed me so sore. Like one of thine that there I may not dwell :

Esteeme me not the less of Dunster store,

Since hart is there where care doth corps expell.

These obscure lines have been interpreted by Dr. Grosart to mean that Howell and his friend were both natives of Dunster, a conjecture which receives some support from the occurrence in The ~drbor of *Amitk of a poem in the West-country dialect. A further vague allusion, occurring in another poem of the same volume, may possibly refer to Oxford. In ' A farewell to his Friend T. Hooper/ Howell writes —

If will were now in force,

To thee my flight should be : Where are the Muses nine that sing

In heavenly harmonic.

Born, it may be, in Somerset, and educated, it seems likely, in Oxford, Thomas Howell comes into clearer light as a retainer of the noble family of Herbert. In ij6i the Lady Anne Herbert, daughter of William Earl of Pembroke, was married to Francis, Lord Talbot, the eldest son of George, sixth Earl of Shrewsbury, who acted for fifteen arduous years as custodian of Mary Queen of Scots. Not long after the marriage Howell is found in the Lady Anne's retinue. In the dedication of his first book to her he says : c But now (right honourable Ladie) I have by experience proved of myselfe, being in your daylie presence, the fame of your worthiness and virtues to be certain true, which eftsoons before I had heard reported by others.* In 1566 Gertrude, Countess of Shrewsbury, died, and was mourned by Howell in an epitaph which is printed in The sfrbor of ^fmitie (ij6B). About the time that Howell was revising his epitaph for the press, the bereaved Earl fell a victim to the charms of Bess of Hardwick, daughter and co-heir of John Hardwick of Hardwick. This celebrated and single-minded woman was now in her third widowhood, having been married successively to Robert Barlow of Derbyshire;

Sir vii

Introduction.

Sir William Cavendish of Chatsworth ; and Sir William St. Loe, Captain of the Guard to Queen Elizabeth. All the later part of her life was devoted to the aggrandizement of the children whom she had borne to Sir William Cavendish. When one of the wealthiest and most powerful of English earls proffered her marriage she was not slow to recognize that the chance of her life had come. Before yielding to his suit she drove a hard bargain, stipulating for a double marriage of their children. In February 1^7-8 Henry, the eldest son of Sir William Cavendish, took to wife the Lady Grace Talbot, and Gilbert, the second son of the Earl of Shrewsbury, married the youngest of Sir William's daughters. Last of all Bess was married also, and entered with zeal into the administration of the Talbot estates.

In the service of this family the gentleman-retainer of the Lady Anne must have passed many years of his life. The Earl of Shrewsbury had three daughters, all of whom their poet celebrates in the poem called c A New Yeares Gyfte ' (Devises, pp. 77-9). The eldest, the Lady Katherine Talbot, was married to Henry Herbert, Earl of Pembroke 5 so that the Herbert family, like the family of Cavendish, was connected with the Talbots by more than one marriage. The second daughter, the Lady Mary Talbot, was married to Sir George Savile, of Thornhill, Yorkshire. The third, the Lady Grace, as already narrated, was married to the heir of Sir William Cavendish. When the Lady Katherine died, Howell be moaned her in verse (Devises, pp. 36-8), and he seems thereafter to have renewed his service to his original patrons of the house of Pembroke. In his poem called c Helpe best welcome, when most needeful ' (Devises, p. 51) he tells how his own kin had failed him :

And he that hath and should by nature ayde Withdrawes his hande, and sayth he may no more. The Devises, his volume of 1 5 8 1, is dedicated to the Lady Mary, Countess of Pembroke, and contains, in the lines c Written to a most excellent Booke, full of rare invention,* the earliest extant notice of Sir Philip Sidney's

Arcadia viii

Introduction.

Arcadia. The Arcadia was not printed till 1590, but Howell had doubtless seen it in manuscript at Wilton. His allusions to its £ filed phrase ' and c choice conceits/ to its lovers and shepherds, to the wisdom of its author,

Whose prime of youth grave deeds of age displaies, and to its very title — The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia — make the reference unmistakable. In a short poem (Devises, p. 30) he celebrates the motto of the Pembroke family — Ung je servirey. Under the protection of that family Howell ended, as he had begun, his career of authorship. When and where he died we do not know.

The titles of his books are as follows : —

The jfrbor of ^fmitie, wherein is comprised pleasant Poems and pretie Poesies, set foorth by Thomas Howell Gentleman. London, Henry Denham, 1568.

Nerve Sonets, and pretie Pamphlets, Written by Thomas Howell, Gentelman. Newly augmented, corrected and amended. London, Thomas Colwell. Undatedj but licensed 1767-8.

H. His Devises, for his owne exercise and his Friends pleasure. London, H. Jackson, ij8i.

There is only a single copy known of each of these volumes : the Nerve Sonets and pretie Pamphlets is in the Capell Collection, Cambridge ; the other two are in the Bodleian. All three were reprinted in his Occasional Issues by Dr. Grosart (1879).

The Devises, here reprinted, is the latest, and, on the whole, the best, of Howell's books of verse. He included in it a certain number of pieces from his two earlier volumes, with numerous alterations and amendments, bearing witness to the care and pains which he spent upon his work.

Howell's masters and guides in poetry were Surrey and Wyatt, and the group of courtly makers who acknowledged them for leaders. The book of Songes and Sonettes, printed by Richard Tottel in the year iff 7, was his handbook of English verse. From this book he borrowed many of

his ix b

Introduction.

his themes and the better part of his metrical effects. Here, for instance, in Tottel's Songes and Sonettes, thought and phrase are interwoven in a melody which is re-echoed through all the lyrical collections of the sixteenth century :

Come,, gentle death, the ebbe of care,

The ebbe of care, the flood of lyfe,

The flood of lyfe, the joyfull fare,

The joyfull fare, the end of strife :

The end of strife, that thing wishe I : Wherefore come death, and let me dye.

Howell practises the same device of iteration in such pieces as cNo greater contrariety, then in the passions of Love* (Devises, p. 16), or f Ever sought, never fbunde ' (Devises, p. 48) :

The more I strive, the stronger is my thrall. The stronger thrall, the weaker still mine ayde : The weaker ayde, the greater griefe doth fall. The greater griefe, the more with doubt dismayde.

Certain of his poems, like some of those in Tottel's Miscellany, irresis tibly suggest the accompaniment of a stringed instrument. So c To his Lady of her doubtfull aunswere * (Devises, p. 50) :

'Twixt death and doubtfulnesse, 'Twixt paine and pensivenesse, 'Twixt Hell and heavynesse. Rests all my carefulnesse.

And he abounds in the stock conceits and antitheses which Petrarch taught to a multitude of French and English pupils :

Still pynde in colde, I parched am with heate, As fyre I flye, upon the flame I runne : In swelting gleames, my chylly corps I beate, Congealde to Ice, where shynes the clearest sunne, Loe thus I lyve, and lyving thus I dye, Drownde in dispayre, with hope advaunced hye.

(Devises, p. 48.}

There

Introduction.

There is none of the pleasure of surprise in these time-honoured paradoxes j no man could possibly imagine that he had found them for himself. Hot and cold, lost and found, rich and poor, hard and soft, heavy and light, kind and cruel, false and true, living and dead, up and down, to and fro — these are the simple contrasts presented by Petrarch to his followers, and used by them to express the bewilderment of love and the sorrows of unstable Fortune. It was no part of the poet's business to seek for new comparisons ; his art was sufficiently approved by the deftness with which he handled the old, and wove them into gracious patterns.

It is one of the great merits of Surrey and Wyatt that they led the way back to those authentic fires whence their own light was borrowed. Chaucer and Petrarch, largely by their means, became the great masters of the English poets of the sixteenth century. George Gascoigne acknowledges no other. c I venture my good will,' he says,

f In barren verse to do the best I can, Like Chaucer's boy, and Petrarch's journeyman.'

The poems of Petrarch were issued in innumerable editions, and studied by many English poets. Sir John Harington, writing news of the Court to his lady, in 1601, asks her for the book that was his daily reading : c Send me up, by my man Combe, my Petrarch. Adieu, sweet Mall.' Reminiscences of Petrarch are to be found on every other page of Howell's poems, and the famous Sonnet 88 — S'amor non f3 — translated by Chaucer in Troilus and Cressida, is translated again by Howell in the Devises (cOf Love/ p. 36). Howell's last published verses, to be found in J. Swan's translation of the tract De ^fnthhristo (1589), are three renderings of Petrarch's invectives against the Court of Rome.

As for Chaucer, his was the paramount influence in all the versifying and story-telling of Shakespeare's predecessors. Howell borrows phrase after phrase from him. For instance —

Tis xi

Introduction.

'Tis light t'outrunne, but not to outread the wise, says Howell (.DrwVex, p. 88).

Men may the wyse at-renne, and not at-rede, says Chaucer (Troilut, iv. 14?^). Again —

My taste of love is lost, as you may gesse, That know how sick men savour bitternesse,

says Howell (Devises , p. 89).

For thou of love hast lost thy taste, I gesse, As sick man hath of swete and bitternesse,

says Chaucer (Parlement of Foules, 1. 160). The reading of Chaucer's works, set forth in a new and complete edition by William Thynne in the year 1532,, caught the imagination of the poets at the Court of Queen Anne Boleyn, and furnished them with half their lore. It was in this volume that Howell read the story of Cressida, with its moral sequel, written by Robert Henryson and long attributed to Chaucer. Howell's poemcRuine the rewarde of Vice' (Devises, p. 18) points the moral of the story once again, in the stanza made famous by Chaucer. His conclusion is modelled, not on Henryson's poem, which ends with a grim epitaph, but on the half-passionate, half-humorous rhetoric where with Chaucer rounds his tale of love and perjury. It is a testimony to the greatness of Chaucer that he is loved by many who never tasted the delicacy of his irony. Howell echoes his cadences, but makes them the vehicle of flat sermonizing :

Loe here the end of foule defyled lyfe, Loe here the fruite that sinne both sowes and reapes : Loe here of Vice the right rewarde and knyfe, That cuttes of cleane and tumbleth downe in heapes All such as tread Dame Cressid's cursed steppes :

Take heed therefore how you your pryme do spende, For Vice brings plagues, and Vertue happy ende.

With xii

Introduction.

With Chaucer and Petrarch, Surrey and Wyatt, to study and imitate, Howell is well furnished as a tolerable minor poet. But he was touched also by later influences, and his verses bear witness to his interest in the literature of his own time. In one of his poems (Devises, p. 33), anticipating Shakespeare, he likens the life of man to a stage-play. In another (Devises, p. 91) he borrows from Gascoigne (The Arraignment of a Lover) an elaborate parable of a Law-court and the trial of a prisoner. His poem £ Discorde makes weake, what Concorde left stronge ' (Devises, p. 91) is probably a reminiscence of one of the dumb-shows interpolated in the fashionable tragedy of Gorboduc. He is never very happy with his borrowings, and it would be vain to attempt to claim for him a place among notable English poets. He is an average and typical Elizabethan rhymer, of fcir accomplishments, one of a great multitude of pleasant sonneteering young gentlemen who practised poetry as an added social grace. Like a true Elizabethan, he uses a high-wrought and conceited style to express the every-day conclusions of sound sense and homely wisdom. c I scorn and spue out,' says E. K., in his introductory epistle to The Shefheards Calendar, cthe rakehelly rout of our ragged rymers (for so themselves use to hunt the letter) which without learning boste, without judgement jangle, without reason rage and fome, as if some instinct of poeticall spirite had newly ravished them above the meannesse of common capacitie.' In his enthusiasm for Spenser, E. K. would no doubt have scorned and spued out Howell (who is much given to alliteration) along with the rest of the rout. But we who live in a later time, when the country is no longer 'pestered with infinite fardles of printed pamphlets tending in some respect to poetry/ can afford to pass a milder judgement. For us the value of Howell's faded finery is that it reminds us of that many-coloured world of music and idleness, and gallantry and romance, where the great Elizabethan poets had their nurture. Howell is one of the choristers of the days of Shakespeare's youth, when cwild music burdened every bough,' when lutes and gitterns hung

in xiii

Introduction.

in every barber's shop for the use of the customers, and when every gentleman could bear his part in a glee or madrigal. The ordinaries of London and the aisles of St. Paul's were frequented by young gallants who wore their fortunes on their backs, and stuffed their heads with legends and fantasies. Guiscard and Gismunda, Luna and Endymion, Troilus and Cressida, were the saints of their idolatry. Every noble family maintained its journeyman versifier. If Howell deserves to be remembered as a poet, it is because there were hundreds like him, and because Shakespeare gained the better part of his education not on the benches of an academy, but at the court, and in the tavern, and on the street.

The poetry that dressed itself in these new Italianate trappings of far fetched form and phrase was old-fashioned and rustic at heart. The squire's or farmer's son might make himself glorious in courtly apparel, but his wisdom of life was the wisdom of the ancient homestead 5 and his speech was c full of wise saws and modern instances.' The Euphuism of Lyly is a compound of all that is extravagant in expression with all that is homely and commonplace in thought. Howell's work, like Lyly's, is a mine of popular proverbs, which he utters not without a certain air of pride, as if they were the gains of his own experience. His message to his age is the message of Polonius :

That lyfe is lyke a Bubble blowne, or smoke that soone doth passe, That all our pleasures are but paynes, our glorie brittle glasse. That Fortune's fruites are variable, no holde in Princely mace, That women's myndes are mutable, that death drawes on apace 5 That worldly pompe is vanity, that youth unwares decayes, That high estate is slipperie, that onely vertue stayes. (Devises, p. 1 1.)

His adages are scattered over his pages with a lavish hand. He offers to his patrons and friends wholesome advice, fresh from the countiy, where it is held in high esteem.

Count not the birds that undisclosed be,

he xiv

Introduction.

he says, translating the common lore of the country-side into the mag niloquence of scholarly diction. From him we learn that —

Not all that glistereth blight may bear the name of gold ; that —

Wante makes the olde wyfe trot, the yong to run outright 5 that —

Neede hath no lawe, some say j extremes, extremes doe urge ; that —

The Cat would faine eat fishe, yet loth her foot to wet;

and he takes to himself credit for promulgating these humble truths, which might have perished from the neglect of the great :

Feare not (quoth Hope) to shewe thy wylling will, (Smale seedes sometyme may light on gratefull grounde :) If none had wrote but Clarks of TULLIES skill, Sweete sawes had suncke, which now aflote are founde ; Then cast of dread, dispayre no whyt at all, Diseases great are cured with medicins small.

For all the triteness of his matter, Howell has some command over diverse forms of verse. In these pages are to be found the popular Chaucerian stanza, which Shakespeare used in The Hape of Lucrecey the six- lined stanza of Venus and ^fdonisy and a large variety of lyrical measures, including (Devises, p. 23) a song set to the refrain c All of green Willow* which was made immortal by Shakespeare. The poem called ^f Dreame (Devises, p. 80) is written in a Quatorzain stanza the invention of which has commonly been attributed to Alexander Montgomerie, who used it in his poem of The Cherrie and the Slae. The Devises were published some sixteen years earlier than Montgomerie's poem, but the clumsiness and imperfection of Howell's handling of the metre show that he was not the inventor of the stanza. Perhaps it came to him from Scotland in the

retinue xv

Introduction.

retinue of Queen Mary j perhaps both Montgomerie and Howell are copy ing, with very different degrees of metrical skill, from some unknown original. In any case, here is the first appearance in print of a metre which gave Montgomerie a great part of his fame, and which was used by Burns in the Jolly Beggars. Further, the Sonnet, as Howell practises it, has the arrangement of rhymes and the cadences which are found in the Sonnets of Shakespeare, and in hardly any of the Sonnets of his con temporaries.

Without any claim, then, to be an artist in verse, Howell shows himself alert in the business of noting and imitating new-found measures. If his thoughts are not equally novel, that is not always a fault in poetry. Most of the great poetry of the world contains no original or surprising turns of thought, but gives perfect expression to ideas that are the common property of mankind. In this matter of expression Howell was earnest enough, continually amending and altering his epithets and phrases. But, after all, he is an apprentice, and no master j his merits are derivative, and he has set no stamp of his own on the plastic language that he handled. He who walks in the sun (to apply to him one of the proverbs that he loved) must needs be sun-burnt ; and he who has the music of ancient poets ringing in his ears, must needs, in singing, hit upon some of their tunes. There is store enough, in these c Delightful Discourses,* of good poetic material, some of which was put to nobler uses by later and better artificers. In c Bewtie the bayte of Vanitie ' Howell discourses on the text of not a few of Shakespeare's Sonnets, and anticipates Shakespeare's sentiments.:

Yet Time on face so faire shall furrows plow, And writhed wrinkles peer on blemisht brow.

So two of the lines run in The ^trbor of ^fmitie. Howell was not satisfied with them, and in the Devises he substitutes c polisht forme ' for * face so faire.' And then the same idea fell to be expressed by a great poet :

Time

xvi

Introduction.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth. And delves the parallels on beauty's brow.

(SHAKESPEARE, Sonnet lx.)

Amend and polish as he might, Howell could not write like this. To treat him to another of his proverbs, it was his to beat about the bush, while others caught the birds. In the dramatic soliloquy of the betrayed and deserted girl (Devises, p. 64) there is an anticipation of some of the finest things in The Affliction of Margaret. The sense of friendlessness, and the fear of natural sights and sounds, to which Wordsworth has given high imaginative expression, is conceived with less energy by Howell, and is expressed, not without a certain grace of fancy, in the terms of a con ventional mythology.

At strife to whom I might

Commit my secret tears, My heart the mountains' sight

And hollow Echo fears.

I doubt the Dryades

Amidst the forest chace, And thinking on the Seas,

I dread the Mermaids' grace.

What shall I trust the Skies?

Then me the Winds bewray j Poor soul, whom Jove denies

Each captive doth betray.

There is some gift of imagination in this ; and those students of poetry who can take pleasure even in undistinguished verse when it bears an accidental likeness to some of the great poetry of the world, will not be intolerant of Thomas Howell. If he is not loved for himself, he will be entertained in the name of his family, the poets of the age of Elizabeth. A modest apology for him might be entered in the words of one of those

extemporary xvii c

Introduction.

extemporary rhymes wherewith Richard Tarlton, the father of low come dians, was wont to delight his audience in the earliest London theatres :

This one, perchance, you might know

By his dress and his shape,

(Squeaking, gibbering^ of every degree :) Is a poet : or, if he 's not so.

He 's a poet's ape :

(He comes of a rare v?'my family.)

This edition is an exact reprint of the Bodleian copy of the Devises. About a dozen obvious and trivial misprints (such as the printing of a full stop between the subject and the predicate of a short sentence) have been corrected. Others, to avoid the intrusion of anything like conjectural emendation, have been left standing.

WALTER RALEIGH.

OXFORD, 1906.

xvni

H.

His Deuifes,, for his owne exercife,andhis

Friends pleafure.

(•••)

qui patttur.

mprinted at London, in

Fleeteflreate, beneath the Conduite,

at the figne of the Saint lohn

Euangelift, by H.

lackfon.

ANNO. 1781.

o the Right Honorable^ and mofl vertuous Lady, the Lady Marye

CountefTe of Pembrcx)ke.

I

HE LITTLE POET ACCIVS NOT

knowing which way to couer the fmalenefle of hys perfon, which was fomewhat lefle then the meane, thought beft to haue a great picture drawne for hys Counterfeyte : This Poet no doubt had fome mea ning in this deuife, for pictures often go there, where the perfon(s) whom they reprefent are not admitted : And it might be that Grangers feeing the great fhape, would imagine Accius to be a tall man. Tewcer a cunning Archer, but a faynte harted Souldiour, then wanted no courage when he was clofe couered with the Target of his brother Aiax. Vlifles, whofe rype wyt made full amends for his weake body, thought no aduenture dangerous, though neuer fo perillous, if he were protected with the fhield of Pallas. So I right Noble Ladye knowing my abilitie to wryte, to bee farre lefle then the perion of Accius, and fo more lykely to incurre more rebukes : my courage therfore more faynte then eyther Tewcers, or Vlifles, and fo more needing fome ftrong defence, haue aduentured to place in the forefrunt of this little treatife, the tytle of your name, as a great portrature to a little body, as a f ure {hield to a weake War- riour, as a fafe defence againft any danger. For as they which ffoould fee the picture of Accius, would imagine it to aunfwere his perfon: fo if the Reader hereof, behold your name in the fyrft leafe, he will deeme the whole Booke the more fruitfull, and the framer therof the more skilfull : but if he mail once perceyue your Honor to be Pa- tronefle to this labour, he will eyther loue it, bicaufe he doth honor you, or wil not dare to reproch it, bicaufe he perceyueth you are as ready, and knoweth you are as able to defend it, as eyther Aiax was to garde Tewcer, or Pallas to guyde Vlifles. I cannot right vertu- ous Ladye, imagine there was anye greater caufe that might induce Accius to frame fo bigge a picture : or caufe Aiax to filicide Tew cer: or mooue Pallas to regarde the fafety of Vlifles: then my felfe 5: A.iij. now

The Epiftle.

now haue to vie your Honors defence. Accius his picture might with a ftranger couer the fhortnefle of his perfon : your name fliall to the Reader be recompence for the greatnefle of my ignorance. Tewcer fled to Aiax bicaufe he was his owne brother : I prefume to feeke ayde of your Honor, bicaufe I am your poore feruant. Pallas did defende Vlifles bicaufe mee knewe he followed and loued her : Your Ladifhip (I truft) wyll be my protection, bicaufe I honor and ferue you, which I haue done in tymes paft, now doe, and euer hereafter wil do, in fuch forte, that the worlde mould be wytnefle, if my abilitie to mew it, were as great as my wil is ready to performe it, I would be found equal in dutiful zeale towards your Honor, to Vlifles in harty affection towards Pallas. Therfore right Noble Lady, let me be bold to remember you in behalfe of my felf, of that which Demofthenes is reported to haue fpoken to Alexander, in defence of the Athenians. You haue (fayd he) moft worthy Em- perour, by fortune no greater good then that you maye : by nature no better gifte then that you wiflie to doe good to many. The cre- dite and estimation your vertuous lyfe, and rare wifdome hath pro cured you : the honorable curtefie and fweete behauiour wherewith Nature hath plentifully endued you, fhal not be eyther vnfitly or vnfruitfully vfed, if you fhal voiichfafe to imploy the one in de fence, and fliew the other in good acceptance of this flender worke of your feruant, which as I did wryte at ydle times in your houfe, to auoyde greater ydlenefle or worfe bufinefle : fo I prefent it humbly vnto you, as a teftimony of my bounden dutie, euer crauing your Honor to pardon my bolde prefumption : and ftyl befeeching the Almightye to blefle you in earth with much honour, and in heauen to crowne you with eternall felicitie.

Tour Honors humble andfaythfull

Seruant. Tho: Houell.

IThe Table of the Contents

of this Bookc.

NO affurance, but in Vertue. UProfperity ought not caufe prefumption, nor aduerfity force difpayre. UOnce warnde, twice armde. UFlattery the Vayle of Frawde.

11 No greater contrariety, then in the pafsions of Loue. Uln vttering of forrow, fome folace. ^IMiferie the ende of Letchery. IJThe paines of Louers great, but mine grieuous. ^jRuine the rewarde of Vice. II The beft Natures fooneft abufed. UHe lykeneth his lotte to Virgils. UAH of greene Willow, Willow, Willow, Willow,

Sith all of greene Willow fhall be my Garland. liAll of greene Lawrel. UNo new fancies fhall alter olde lyking. UA Dreame.

HThe lamentable ende of lulia Pompeis Wyfe. II Secrecy, for fome forrows, a needefull remedy. The ende of lyfe, the begynning of blifle. They fooneft yelde remedy, that haue felt lyke extremitie. A Pofie.

VnthankfulnefTe of minde, a monfter in Nature. Noble minds eyther conquer or couer. Vng ie feruirey. Doe or be ftill. ( He denies quickly, that giues (lowly. ( Women are words, men are deeds. - Enuy euer depraueth defert. A Winters morning mufe. Mans lyfe lykened to a ftage play. To his Miftrefle.

Reward doth not alwayes aunfwere deferte. Who hurt, muft heale. Of Loue. Of Bay es and Willow.

The Talk.

f An Epitaph vpon the death of the Ladye Katherine, late Coun-

tefle ofPembrooke. Vltimum vale.

11 In aduerfitie is beft feene Vertues excellency. U Sorrow e difclofed, fomewhat eafed.

HOmnis fortuna fuperanda ferendo eft. Of fufferance comes eafe. UH. his Reply to his friend. A. M. liH.tohimfelfe.

H Written to a moft excellent Booke, full of rare inuention. UThe complainte of a forrowfull wight, founde languyfhing in a

Forreft. ^jOfFancie. II Aunfwere.

UEuer fought, neuer founde. f A Poefie. HAunfwere.

U Euery thing is as it is taken. To his Lady of her doubtfull aunfwere. Helpe beft welcome, when moft needefull. Of the Golden worlde. OfGolde. A.W.

Aunfwere. H. Of Friends. Anfwere. E. L. Reply to the fame. Another waye. To his Friend M. S. In mediocritie moft fafety. To the fame.

That valiant hartes are defyrous to afpyre. ^f Aunfwere. Another waye.

To his Friend E. R. of the Bee. Sure counfell, founde friendfhip. They performe not beft, that promife moft.

Bewtie

8

The Talk.

Bcwtie the bayte Vanitie.

Of Fortune.

A Sonet.

To her Louer, that made a conquefl of her, & fled, leauing her with

childe.

Beyng burdened to fayne his good will, he aunfwereth thus. Chaunge of Country, (hall not chaunge fancie. Where abilitie fayleth, wyll fufficeth. Mans impictie, fayns falfe Deitie. In loue fmale iarres, fometime breede beft content. What Nature feuereth, Aite hardly ioyneth. He wyfheth well to the Crabbe and Maple Tree in Milfeelde, for

the Ladies fake that met there vnder them. Being charged with finenefle he aunfwereth thus. Such Saintes, fuch feruice. I follow what flyeth from me. No griefe to wante of due regarde Of Anger. A New yeares gifte. Another. Another. Another. An Epitaph. A Dreame. Loue asketh loue. The variable thoughts of a Louer. R.T. Aunfwere. Another waye. GodlynefTe pafTeth ryches. His aunfwere to one that wrote, faynte hartes that feare to fynne,

fayre Ladyes fyldome wynne. To I. N.

H. To his mifhap.

Falfyfying of fayth, breeds many complaints. To his Song, fent to his Miftrefle.

The Talk.

A Poefie.

Aunfwere.

The vanitie of rytches.

Difcord makes weake, what concord left ftrong.

Of one that came to borrowe money.

Aunfwere.

Truth feareth no tryall.

He complayneth his miftiapj with promife to keepe her honor.

G. To his Ladye.

For fmale offence, fmale punifhment.

HLoues myghtineffe growes by Louers weakneffe.

U A companfon of his troubles.

UI.K. to H. being ficke.

UAunfwere H.

UOfFriendfhip.

li Aunfwere. G. H.

HH.ToM.

HAdmonition to his Friend.

H Who feekes this Worlds felicitie, Fyndes nothing elfe but vanitie.

To a Flatterer.

Aunfwere.

Reafon and Fanfie doe often varie.

A Poefie.

Certaine Verfes tranflated out of Petrark concerning Rome, writ ten by hym many yeares fince.

FINIS.

10

1 To the Reader.

~\T THere none but Nature is the guyde, MINERVA hath no parte,

VV Then you her Nurcelings beare with him, yt knows no aide of artc. I wake my wyts to pleafe my felfe, nought reaking praife or blame, I force my pen to purge my brayne, though matter fmall I frame. In which attempt, if lack of skill, haue led my Mufe awry, Let my well meaning minde the mifle, in eche refpeft fupply. If patterns wrought by Arte, of curious workman here thou feeke, Thy trauayle then thou fhalt but lofe, to looke and neuer leeke. But if good-will may thee fuffife, perufe, and take thy pleafure, In Natures fchoole my little skill : I learned all by leafure. Here nothing placed is, that may the vertuous forte ofFende, Though enuious Carpers barke and fnarle, at things they fcarce can mende. Whofe chiefeft grace is wife to feeme, by blotting others deedes, Whofe paynted flowers in proofe full oft, fall out but ftincking weedes. The chafte defyre with honeft ryme, miflykes no whitt in minde, But venomde Spyders poyfon take, where Bee doth honey finde. With greater eafe a fault is founde, then well to welde the refte : It differs much to tell the tale, and words mifplafte to wrefte. By patterns here difplayed to thee, thou mayft perhaps preuente The poyfoning bayts of bitter fweete, whofe blifTe brings (harp euente. Difloyall loue and filthie luft, thou here art taught to flee : With other Sawes to fundry endes, though hewed rough they bee. That lyfe is lyke a Bubble blowne, or fmoke that foone doth pafle, That all our pleafures are but paynes, our glorie brittle glafle. That Fortunes fruites are variable, no holde in Princely mace : That womens myndes are mutable, that death drawes on apace. That worldly pompe is vanity, that youth vnwares decayes : That high eftate is flipperie, that onely veitue ftayes, Here learne thou mayft : with diuers notes, gaynft fraude and flattery, That may fuffife to warne the wife, to voyde fuch battery. And eke thou here mayft viewe and fee, howe Bewtie cruell hafte : Doth make, to fhun the gallant face, where me but late was plafte. That (he is Natures priueledge, and fo is fayd to bee Becaufe (he feldom giues that gyfte, but where (he caufe doth fee.

That II

To the Reader.

That beawtie is a dumbe difceite, not hairing worde or arte : And yet with filente crafte fhe can, perfwade the hardeft harte. She conqueres where fhe corns by kinde : for Creatures faire procure, By naked lookes, fuch yeelding harts, as they wifhe to allure. Whofe vayne delyghts if thou defier, thy thryfte goes to the ground e, (And yet by honeft loue we fee, the greateft wealth is founde.) APOLLOS troope my faults will pafFe, and waye my want herein, Whofe freindly fauor if I gaine, I prife not PAN a pin. The trauell myne, the pleafure thine, if ought thou here doe leeke, Thy good reporte, for paynes ymployed is fole rewarde I feeke.

Virtiis honor em parit.

U Faults efcaped in the printing, (t)

In the Sonet entiteled Huine the reward of rtce, the feconde line, for ioy, reade ioyes. And in the fyft ftafFe of the fame Sonet,the laft line, for forfing, reade falling.

In the anfwere to the poefie written of Fanfiej the lafte lyne, for you reade your.

In the Golden world, the xvij. vearfe and fyrft word, for Gor, read For. In the Sonet entiteled hir louer that made a conqueft of fair, the viii. ftafFe, the laft line, for fhamefull, read fhamelefle. In mans impletie^fainesfalfe deitie, the firft verfe, for faine, read faynde. In Sorrows difclofed fomewhat eafed, for fetled forrows, read forrowe. In fuch faints, fuch feruice, toward the ende of the Sonet, for when, read whence.

In what Nature feueretk, arte hardly ioyneth, the lafte line of the firft ftafFe, for foone, read fame.

In the vanity of ritchef, after the iixt line read, For who hath moft of fuch a ftore, the more he feares as thrall. Which is there lacking. In Difcorde makgs weakly what, &c. the laft lyne faue one, for guyde, reade guyle* In fyafon andfancie do often vary, the firft word, for there, read where.

(f) [These faults are corrected in this reprint, Oxford, 1906.3

tt T)ifcourfes

to fundry purpofes.

affurance hut in Vertue.

WHo wifely skans, the weake and brittle ftayes, That Natures Imps, within thys vale poflefle, The dyuers haps, the ftraunge vncertayne waves, That headlong forth we runne beyonde all gefle, Shall foone perceyue, that euery worldly ioye, Short pleafures yeelds, imixte with long anoye.

Though whorde of heaped ftore, for more delight,

Our Gofers keepe, to pleafe our greedie lufte :

Yea, though our time we pafle in ioyfull plight,

And in thys Jyfe repofe our chief eft truft,

Yet worldly porripe, when all is fayde and done, Doth vade away, lyke Snowe againft the Sonne.

A tyme of byrth Dame Nature doth vs giue, A tyme to dye fhee lykewife doth prouyde : No fooner doe we fyrft beginne to liue, But ftraight to death vnwares away we flyde,

And yet alas, our fancies are fo frayle,

That all our ioye is here to hoyfe vp Sayle.

But fuch as fet their Heauen of lingering lyfe,

In pleafures lap, whofe froward tickle wheele

(Sayth wifdoms sonne) with frowning turne is ryfe,

To drowne their blifle, that blyndly fo doe reele, By fearche mail fynde,eche fleeting pleafure vaine, When Vertues Impes, with Vertue highe fhall raigne.

Then who fo fees, the Sugar ftrawde on Gall, And fhunnes the fame, by facred Vertues skill :

B.j. Shall

,13

"Delight full Difcourfes

Shall fafely ftande, when Follyes children fall, That heedleffe holde, Dame pleafures wanton will,

Thus Vertue ftayeth, when Vices fteps doe flyde,

So are they bleft, that doe in Vertue byde.

^Profperitte ought not caufe prefumption, nor aduerf tie force difpayre.

WHere Fortune fauoreth not, what labor may preuaile ? Who frowning fate wil needs thruft down, what fhal he win With pacient mind to yeeld, is fure the foundeft way, (to waile ? And caft our cares and griefe on him, that fatall force doth fway. For Death with equall pace, doth pafle to Princes gate, And there as at the Cottage poore, doth knock in one like ftate. The tyme or maner how, the highft no more can tell, Then pooreft Peyfant placed here, in bafe eftate to dwell. Sithe then fuch feeble ftay, in mortall might we finde, Why fhould the wante of worldly drofle, in dole once daunt our minde. The Tylman pore in toyle, that fpends the weary day, Whofe welth will fcarce fupply his wante, when fome whoorde heaps Fals not to flat difpaire, ne yet his labor leaues, (y play.

Though fcarce ye ftubble prooues his fliare, when others mock the But Hues with mind content, more free fro care & ftrife, (fheaues Then thofe y* hunger higheft hap, where dangers dwel moft rife. Though prowde ambition blinde, puft vp with glory vaine, Deteft their ftate that riches wante, with hawty high difdaine. The Seas oft troubled are, by winds that whyrling flye, When mallow ftreams yeeld water cleere, in valleis low y* lye. High Mountaynes fet on fyre, by lightning eke we fee, When Paftures placed vnderneath, in nothing altered bee. The formoft fronte in fight, are neereft deadly wounde, The lofty tree is foonft blowne down, & leueld with the grounde. So fuch as thirft to clymbe, to daunger moft are thrall, Whofe flyding glory fawced is, with honey mixt with Gall. For who fo gript with griefe, if Fortune lifte to lowre, As thofe that earft did feede at full, vpon her fayreft flowre ?

Which

tofundry purpofes.

Which change full oft hath falne, through her vnconftantnefle,

And whome flie lately laught vpon, throwne downe remedilefle.

Was ALEXANDER great, that many daungers part,

For all his mightie conqueft wonne, not flayne himfelfe at laft ?

A kings fonne eke I finde, for Fathers tyranny,

Conftraynde to worke a Smith in Forge, by harde neceflity.

Such is the fading force, of Fortunes fickle powre,

Whofe fruitfulft fruite both rypes and rottes, in lefle fpace then an

Such is her tickle truft, fuch are her flipper fteps, (howre.

That what flie feemes to fowe in ioy, with forrow oft me reaps.

Attribute all to him, that fate doth guyde therefore,

With wylling mind embrace thy lot, where rich thou be or pore.

^Oftce •warnde^ twice armde.

WHylfte flye deceyte, by fleight of fmyling cheare, Yeeldes tickling hope, to dandle on our dayes : We dread no guyle, no doubling drift we feare, Our founde beliefe fuch fetled truft doth rayfe. But when in fyne, we finde our felues mifled, We blame the frawde that fo our fancies fed.

And gripte with griefe, our former truft we wayle, Exclayming lowde that falfhood fo can fayne, When glofing fhewes clokt vnder friendfhips vayle, Fals out but fleyght, to fofter hope in vayne.

Loe thus full oft, what deemde hath bene the funne.

Proofe CYNTHEA findes, whofe courfe more lowe doth runne.

As fome haue tryde through time and trauell fpente,

Who traynde by truft, haue deemde good hap there plaft,

Had fwayed the foyle, where ruine all to rente,

Hath due defart, with rigour downe defaft. Whofe fhorte regarde, for long imployed toyle, May warne the wife of frawde to feare the foyle.

B.ii. ^flattery

Qdightfull Difcourfes

flattery the Vayle of Fra<wde.

T7 Ayre words foule deeds, pretended and forethought, r Who can but hate, that holds the feare of God : Fayne you that lyft, fuch praftife prooues but nought, Vyle diuelifhe driftes, prouoke IOVES wrathfull rod, Which fure will fall, if we in fynne perfeuer, Shame is the fruite, of frawde and fbule endeuor.

Wherein beholde, fome maske in Nettes at Noone, Yet deeme they walke in clowdes of clofe difguife : Hoyfte vp in thought, to reache beyonde the Moone, When all the worlde, their couert cunning fpyes. But thefe to name, my peri and fpeeche mail fpare, Who medleth leaft, leaft cumbred is with care.

It me fuffizen may to note their driftes, That weene by wyles, the worlde to weald at will : Their glofing fhewes, their flye and guylefull fhiftes, To trayne fuch on, as fynde not out their skyll.

Whofe turnes to feme, though fboles a tyme be dandled, The wyfer wincke, that fee how things are handled.

1]N0 greater contrariety ^ then in the pafsions of Loue.

IN wyll to ftrong, in worke to weake is loue, In hope to bolde, in feare more faynte then needes : In thought a thoufand guyles it ftryues to proue, In guyle, fufpition painefull paflions breedes. Sufpition eafely yeelds to light beleefe, And light beleefe to iealoufie is thrall, The iealous mynde deuoures it felfe with griefe, Thus loue at once doth frye, freefe, ryfe and fall. On pleafures pafte to thinke, it takes delighte, Whyles prefent blifle, by fonde conceyte it balkes,

Although \6

to fundry purpofes.

Although the fruite it fynde, be penfme plight, For better chaunce, yet carelefle on it walkes, Thefe are the feedes that VENVS Baby fowes, As tafte they fhall, the bitter crop that mowes.

^[I» vtter'mg of fbrrotueyjbme folace.

MY carefull cafe, and penfiue pyning plight, Conftraynth my Pen, againft my will to wright The plunged ftate, wherein I lyue and dwell, Doth force me forth, my dolefull tale to tell.

My heaped woes, all folace fets afyde,

Whofe fecret fmarte (alas) 1 faine would hyde,

But as the fubieft Oxe, to yoke muft yeelde,

So vanquifht wightes, are forfle forfake the feelde.

My lucklefle lotte, denies me all releife, I feeke for helpe, but finde increafe of griefe. I languifhe ftill, in long and deepe difpaire, Yet munne to fhewe the caufe of this my care.

I couet nought, that reafon might denye, Ne doe I feeke by meanes to mounte on hye : But what I feeke, if I the fame might finde, Then eafde fhould be, mine vncontented mynde.

iferie the ende ofLetchery.

OFylthy Letchery, Whofe fmoke is infamy,

Fyre of foule fraylty, Whofe fparkes are vanity,

Nurfle to ympietie, Whofe flame obfcurity,

Warre, pryde and ieloufie, Whofe coles impurity,

Whofe fubftance is gluttony, And aflies myfery.

B'.iij. H The

"Delightfull T)ifcourfes

ames ofLouers great, but mine grieuous.

THe Froft in flame that Louers finde, And fwelting heat in chilly colde, So quite contrary are by kinde, As ftrange it feemeth to beholde, Strange is the feare that makes them fainte, And ftrange the care that chokes their ioy, Yet ftranger paflions me attaynte, The onely Nurfle of mine annoy.

the reivarde of Vice.

^T^O you fayre Dames whose bewties braue do floorifh, JL To you whofe daintie dayes in ioyes are fpent :

To you whofe prayfe Dame Nature feekes to poolifh,

To you whofe fancie VENVS doth frequent.

To you I wryte with harte and good intent, That you may note by viewe of what I fay, How Natures giftes foone vade and flyde away.

Your loftie lookes, time downe full lowe mail raze,

Your ftately fteps age eke will alter quite :

Your fraile defyre that kindleth CVPIDS blafe,

Whofe heate is prone to follow fbule delight,

The whip fhalbe, that mall you fharply fmite : When euery vice that fproong of Fancies fittes, Repentance brings, to thofe the fame committes.

Is not the pride of HELENS prayfe bereft ? And CRESSIDE ftaynde, that Troian Knight imbrafed : Whofe bewties bright but darke defame hath left, Vnto them both through wanton deedes preferred. As they by dynte of Death their dayes haue ended, So mail your youth, your pompe, and bewties grace, When nothing elfe but vertue may take place.

Then 1 8

tofundry purpqfes.

Then fliake of Vice ye Nymphes of CRESSIDS Crue, And Vertue feeke, whofe praife fliall neuer die : With fylthie luft your bodies not imbrue, As did this ILION Dame moft wickedly, Whofe blifle by bale was plagude fo greeuoufly, That loe her lyfe in Lazars lodge me ended, Who erft in Courte moft curiouflye was tended.

Her Corps that did King PRIAMS fonne delight, Confumde with cares, fent forth fad fighes full colde : Her azurde vaynes, her face and skinne fo white, With purple fpottes, feemde vgly to beholde. Eche lymme alas corruption gan vnfolde, In which diftrefle, and bitter ftraine of ruth, She begges her bread, for falfing fayth and truth.

No forrow then might falue her lewde offence, Nor raze the blotte that bred her black defame : Her dolefull daies alas founde no defence : Twas now to late to fliunne the fheete of fhame, Which had bewrapt her wrackfull blemifht name, So brode was blowne her crime and curfed cafe, That worlds bewrayed her frowning fates difgrafe.

Loe here the ende of foule defy led lyfe, Loe here the fruite that finne both fowes and reapes : Loe here of Vice the right reward and knyfe, That cuttes of cleane and tumbleth downe in heapes, All fuch as tread Dame CRESSIDS curfed fteppes, Take heede therfbre how you your pryme do fpende, For Vice brings plagues, and Vertue happy ende.

B.iiij.

1TA*

Delightfull Difcourfes

\The befl Natures ^ foonefl abufed.

BEtwixte my hope and dreade, grewe fuch debate, When fyrft I fought thefe naked lynes to frame, That long I pawfde, as doubtfull to dilate, Whether beft proceede, or elfe leaue of the fame. Tyll hope at laft, difpayre doth banifhe quight, And wylles my Pen aflay in verfe to wright.

Feare not (quoth hope) to fliewe thy wylling will, (Smale feedes fometyme may light on gratefull grounde :) If none had wrote but Clarks of TVLLIES skill, Sweete fawes had funck, which now aflote are founde, Then caft of dread, difpayre no whyt at all, Difeafes great are cuerd with Medicins fmall.

Thefe cheerefull wordes, no fooner gan reuiue My Muse, but ftraight in mynde I me bethought, How GNATOS fedte through flattery doe contriue, Eche guilefull glofe, tyll they their wyles haue wrought, Whofe great abufe, though briefely here I touch, I fpare to fpeake, what might be fayde of fuch.

Of friendmip founde, though fundry yeelde a fhowe, Yet fewe there be, in whome is tryed truft : Such frawde in friendly lookes doth dayly growe, That who moft fawnes, ofte proues the moft vniuft :

Who fooner mail well meaning mindes betray,

Then fuch as beft can SINONS pagent play.

As Saylers earft, by SIRENS fongs alurde, Deuoured were that lackt VLTSSES skill, So Noble minds by fuch haue bene procurde, To credite toyes, that turnde to greater ill.

The Serpent wife, to ftop hir eares deemes meete,

When Charmer feemes to charme with voyce moft fweete.

For ao

tofundry purpofes.

For lyke as fliadowe plafte before the eyes,

Is not the thing that it doth reprefent :

Nor al prooues Gold that fliines when touchftone tries,

Though fayre it feeme vnto fome foule intent :

No more doe words that pafle from flattering forte,

Yeelde fuch effect as they doe oft report

Some friendfhip faine to giue the greater gleeke, Difpleafures doubt another fort conftraines : To foothe vp things, which they perhaps miflike, By meanes whereof vnfeene, great mifchiefe raignes. Some fawne to ferue their turne, where fortune fmiles, But if me frowne, they flee with all their wiles.

1[Such fhewes right well, comparde may be to (hade, That feelde is feene, but where the Sunne doth mine : For as thofe ftiapes with euery clowde doe vade, So Flatterers faile if Fortune once decline. Vfe Serpents skill againft this fubtill kinde, Floodes drowne no Fields, before fome brack they findc.

As fyre doth fine, and feperate Golde from drofle, And fhews the pure and perfite from the vyle : So tryed is when wrackfull ftormes doe tofle, The favthfull friend from fuch as meane but guyle. For like as Doues delight in buyldings newe, To CRESSVS Court, fo flocks COREBVS crewe.

Let wifedome therfore weld your wayes and deedes, Whofe prudent poife brings dark eft doubts to light : To quick miftruft in truftieft, treafon breedes, The haftie credite oft deemes wrong for right.

Accounte of thofe, whome Vertues raigne doth guyde, For fuch will ftande, when glofing GNATOS flyde.

C.j.

21

Delightfull T>ifcourfes

^He lykeneth his lotte to Virgtls.

T Hough VIRGILS Vearfe, for loftie ftyle were rare, Surmounting farre my feeble Mufes might : Yet in this poynte my cafe I may compare With his, what tyme another claymde his right, And fay with him, though I the feede did fowe, Another feekes the fruite therof to mowe.

Like as the toyling Oxe the Plow doth pull, And hath but ftalkes, when others mare the eares : Or as the flieepe that Nature clothes with wooll, Brings forth the Fleece, the fhearer from him fheares, Euen much alike it fareth now with me, That forft the ground, where others reape the Fee.

I bred the Bees, thou wOuldft the Honey haue, I tylde the foyle, thou feekfte by guyle the gaine : I owe the Tree, thou doeft the branches craue, Thou prickft for prayfe, where none but I tooke paine. What deedes denie, fome wynne by naked wordes, I hatchte the broode> though thou poflefTe the byrdes.

Who fo doth holde the light, whilft others Maske, No Masker is perdie, you know right well : Nor all whofe fhewes would clayme the greateft taske, Deferues the fame, when truth her tale doth tell.

Though mine the wrong, yet feemes the lofle fo light, As mame forbids me more therof to write.

az

tofundry purpofes.

ofgreene Willow, Willow, Willow, Willow, Sit he all ofgreene Willow fhall be my Garland.

IMbrace your Bayes fweetely, that fmile in loue[s fight,] And deck you with LawrelJ, that dwell in delight : To me moft vnhappy, ftill fpurade by difpight, Is giuen writhed Willows to exprefle my ftate right.

Purfuing the PANTHER whofe fweete doth abound, A moft cruell Viper my hard fate hath found : Whofe nature to Spyders I well may compare, That mercylefle murders, whats caught in her fnare.

The Lyon doth tender the beaft that doth yeelde, The Tyger feemes conftant, once conquerd in fielde : BELLONA fliewes fauour to Captiues that fue, But VENVS refufeth my dolors to rue.

How fhall I to eafe me vnburden my breft, Of thefe penfiue paflions that breeds my vnreft : When fpeech wanteth powre, when voyce is vnpreft, And wyt wanteth cunning to compafle loues heft.

Yet what auayles words, where eares words doe flee, Though words to the minde, true meflengers bee ? Or what vayleth wyt, where wyll is vntowarde ? The facrifice loft, where Saints be fo frowarde.

*^All of greene Lawrell.

/"T*O fing of forrowe ftill,

JL Attending VENVS will,

Were now but lack of skill,

Pittie lyes deade :

C.ij. Then

'Deti&tfull Difcourfes

Then caft of mourning cheare, Let ioyfull plight appeare, Where clowds doe neuer cleare,

Comfort is fledde.

Looke vp to the Lawrell, and let Willow goe, And truft to the true friend, imbrace not thy foe,

Sing all of greene Lawrell :

By trauaile who ftryueth, to winne thankleffe wight, Is lyke one that wafheth a black a Moore white,

Let all of greene Lawrell bedeck thy Garland. Though fome diftill their teares, That wrythed Willow weares, Yet fainte not at their feares,

Seeme not to dread : The wifeft haue done fo, The Valiant wrapt in wo, Haue taken ouerthrow,

By Fancie led.

Where wyt is conftrayned by will to giue place, Their fongs are of forrow, that ioyes would embrace,

Sing all of greene Lawrell. Let no deceytfull fhewes of VENVS bright fliine, Haue power once to pierce the founde harte of thine,

So (hall the greene Lawrell fet forth thy garland. Waygh not the wauering minde, That fleetes with euery winde, Tyll thou fome flay doe finde,

Truft not to farre. Vnto Dame Conftancy, Bendeftill thy battery, Flye faft from flattery,

With bewtie make warre. So mall thy well lyking not harme thee at all, For fayth fixed firmely, fuch fauour will fall,

That all of greene Lawrell, &c.

When

tofundry purpofes.

When others in dolor their wrack fliall bewayle, Thy fliyp on the founde Teas in fafetie may fayle,

Where crownde with greene Lawrel, in ioy thou flialt fing.

^No neiue fancies ,fh all alter olde lyking.

T Hough PARIS prayfe, APOLLOS Impe gan ftayne, When change of choyce his fickle humor fedde, And CARTHAGE cryes, with ftrayned voyce complayne, On periurde Prince, by night that faithlefTe fledde. Though IASONS hefte MEDEA founde vntrue, And others mo there be whofe fancye paft : That skorne the olde ftill haunting after newe, Wythin whofe hartes no leeking long may laft, Yet tyll syr PHEBVS beames fliall lofe their light, And Ocean Seas doe ceafe to ebbe and flowe : Vntill the day fliall turne to perfite night, And Natures courfe againft her kinde fliall goe. My fixed fayth vnfpotted ftiall remayne, What would you more, I vowe I doe not fayne.

*§A Dreame.

WHen PHEBVS bright was fetled in the Weft, And darknefle dimme, the earth had ouerfpread : When fylent night, that moues eche thing to reft, With quyet pawfe, had plafte me in my bed,

In flombring Dreame, me thought I heard a wyght, His woes bewayle, that grewe through loues defpyght*

Whofe wearing weede and veftures all were greene,

Saue that his loynes with black were girded rounde :

And on his breft a badge of blewe was feene.

In figne his fayth and truth remayned founde. He fighed oft and said, O blifful hier, When hope with hap, may ioye in his defier.

Ciij. But

Delightfull T)ifcourfes

But ftill to hope, and finde therein no fruite, To be in bed, and reftlefle there remayne : To feeke to feme, and daylie make purfute, To fuch as fet but light of weary payne,

Doth breede fuch balefull dole within the breft, As quyte bereaues all ioye and quyet reft.

Though tafte of fower, deferue the fweete to gayne, Yet cruell Fate I fee the fame denyes : So that defyre and wifdome prooues but vayne, Without accorde and fauour of the Skyes. But ftedfaft hope, feeme not (quoth he) to quayle, The heauens in tyme, may turne to thine auayle, Scarfe had he thus his wofull fpeeche concluded, When wake I did, and fawe my felfe deluded.

^f The lamentable ende of lull a Pompeis Wyfe.

SOre plungde in greeuous paynes and wofull fmarte, Bedewed with trickling teares on Death like face : Downe trylles the drops on cheekes & fighs from hart, To heare and fee her husbands dolefull cafe.

Thus goes thys fpoufe, the wofull IVLI A, Befprent with bloud, i

when POMPEIS Cote fhe faw.

Downe dead fhe falles in lamentable founde, Offence bereft (fo great was forrowes ftrayne) The chylde conceyude within by deadly wounde, Vntymely fruite came forth with pinching payne. When all was done, for loue her lyfe fhe loft, For POMPEIS fake, fhee yeelded vp her Ghoft.

So dead fhe laye, bewaylde with many teares, A Matrone wife, a famous Ornament :

O

tofundry purpofes.

O CJESAR (lie had feene full cheerefull yearcs, If thou with POMPEY couldft haue bene content,

But ciuill warres hath wrought this fatall ftryfe,

To POMPEY death, to IVLIA lofle of lyfe.

^Secrecy , for fome for r owes ^ a needefull remedy.

Like as the captiue Wight, in chayned lincks doth lye, And hopes at Sife to be releaft, is the condemde to dye. Euen fo alas my lot, by frowning fate doth fall, That fought to feede on fweete delight, but found moft bitter My reftlefle labor loft, I iuftly may compare, (Gall.

To SISIPHVS that neuer fleepes, and griefe to TITIVS care. For after fundry ftormes, when calme I thinke to finde, More rougher rage a new doth rife, to ftraine my daunted minde. And when my quelling cares, I feeke by meanes to cure, Moft deepeft dynte of inwarde woe, alas I doe endure. PROMETHEVS pincht with payne, nor IXION whyrlde on wheele, More grypes by griefe doe not fuftaine, then I vnhappy feele. The fomme of my vnreft, yet couert will I keepe, And fecretly my forrowes fup, when others founde doe fleepe. To eafe my penfyue breft, a Vearfe though here I frame, The burfting forth of forrows mine, fhal breed no further blame. My fydes fliall fhryne this fmart, my hart fhall waft with woe, Ere I the fecrete of my caufe, bewray to friend or foe. Saue onely to the Saint, that fwayes my lyfe at wyll, Whofe pittie may prolong the fame, or crueltie may kyll.

1f The ende oflyfe^ the begynnmg ofblyfj°e.

WHy fhoulde we feare to dye ? Or feeke from Death to flye, When Death the way doth make, Eche worldly woe to flake, By whome we pafle to ioye, Where neuer comes annoye.

Our

Delightfull T)tfcourfes

Our tryflying tryumphs heere, Though we efteeme them deere, Are like to vapours vayne, That wafte with little rayne, Deluding Dreames in deede, Whereon our fancies feede.

What yeelde our pleafures all, But fweetenefle mixt with Gall, Their pryme of chiefeft pride, Vnwares away doth flide, Whofe fhewe of fweete delight, Oft dymmes our perfyte fight.

Though IOVE in loftie feate, Haue placed Princes great, With Regall rule to raigne, His glory to explaine, Yet vades their pompe and powre, As doth the wythred Flowre.

Loe here the fureft ftaye,

The worlde doth yeelde vs aye,

Thy deareft friend to daye,

To morrow falles away,

Whofe wante thou doeft bewayle,

When teares may nought preuayle.

Sithe lyfe is myferie.

V<

Fu

byde of felicitie, ullofanxietie,

ipi<

The death I happy' call, That doth bereaue fuch thrall.

Giuen to impietie,

:all,

fuch thrall.

\They

tofundry purpofes.

\They fooncfl yeelde remedy^ that hauefelt lyke extremetie.

THe flames of fyre and clowds of cold, repugnant in my breft, Hath quite exiled me from ioy, and reft all quiet reft. Yet oft (alas) in fliewe I fmile, to made my inwarde fmarte, When in my laughter waues of woe, well nie do burft my harte. Whofe driery thoughts I would to God, were feene fo fill to thee, As mine afflicted minde in payne, doth powre them out on mee. So mould perhaps thy frozen hart, now harde as Flintie ftone, Within thy breft wth melting teares, take ruth on this my mone. But as he well cannot difcerne, what tempeft Saylers trye, That neuer croft the checking tydes, y* furge with waues on hye. No more canft thou my cares defcry, for wante of ryper skill, Although in deede the fhewes thereof, doe pleade for pittie ftill. In vayne therfore my pensiue plaintes, by Pen I doe exprefle, When both thy will and want of skill, denies to yeelde redrefle. The cruell fates (1 feare) forbids, that I such blifie mould finde, Or facred IOVE fome other hap, hath to my mare aflignde.

1 A Poefte.

SIthe follye tis to wifhe, what may not be enioyed, And wifdom to efchew the harmes, wherwith we are anoyed. Let reafon guyde thy thoughts, when fancie moft doth fight, And count him victor of the Field, that conquers bewties might.

^] Vnthankfulneffe ofmmde^ a monfter in Nature.

ON thanklefle Friend, whofe trauayle is imployde, With Afles Damme mail reape ingratefull meede : Whofe wanton Fole by her sweete mylke acloyde, Oft kicks the Nurfe, that doth it choycely feede.

D.j. As

19

"DdightfuU T)ifcourfes

As doe the Vipers broode, whofe yongling long, When mothers care with tender loue hath cheriiht : Requite the fame with fuch vngratefull wrong, That in rewarde, her lyfe by them is perifht. Whofe Nature is vnkindly to deuoure, The wombe whence fyrft they tooke their lyuing powre. To whom we may the vngratefull forte compare, That Viper lyke feeke fpoyle, where they mould fpare.

s eyther conquer ^ or couer.

AS SCIPIO fmylde to cloke his couert fmarte, What tyme he fawe his happy ftate declyne : So fome alike doe fhadowe griefe of harte, With outwarde myrth, when inwardly they pyne. And to the worlde yeelde forth fuch fhewes of ioye, As fewe would deeme, they once did taft annoye. When they in deede, with SCIPIOS griefe complayne, Their fhort regarde, for long employed payne.

^f Vng ieferuirey.

TO feme but one, a conftant courage fhowes, Who ferueth more, he rightly ferueth none: Bafe is the minde that bends to many Bowes, Next God, a Prince we ought obey but one. One God, one Prince, he femes, defends and feares, Vng ie feruirey, for his worde that beares.

TD0*, or be fill.

THe mallow fireames, doe murmour more then deepe, And Cowards bragge, that dares no weapons prooue : Thofe Dogs byte leaft, that greateft barkings keepe, Some do but fayne, whofe fhewes feeme farre in loue.

Sounde is the Tree, whence friendfhips fruite doth fpring, Doe or he Kill let none but SYRENS ling.

30

tofundry purpq/es.

denies quick ly^ that glues f lowly.

Ling ring del ayes, flacke payments doe forefhowe, Better no promife, then no performance: Sleight are the forrowes, flakte with comforts flowe, Ey ther fende, or ende, yeelde fome aflurance. Shyfting delaye, miflyking oft doth breede, They foone denye, whofe Suters flowly fpeede.

*$Vomen are •wordes^ Men are deedes.

IF nought but wordes in women to be founde, Then what are they, men, women, or Monfters, That yeelde lyke fruite? or elfe a hollowe founde, Which fubftance none, but ayre forth vtters.

By deedes and not by words, men praife obtayne, Monfters, no men, whofe deedes their words doe ftayne.

^f Enuye eiter depraueth deferte.

THou fnarh'ng Curre, that crept in Maunger lyes, And lets the Courfer there to reache his right: Thy malice great, and fwelling falfe furmife, Thou out fhouldft barke, before thou fecrete bite. But fythe thy cankered nature (needes I see,) Muft byte or burft, I open warre denownce, Againft thy kinde, what euer fo thou bee, Which feeks by guile our buyldings downe to bownce. With SYRENS voyce thy tune thou feekft to fayne, As though in deede our braynes fo barren were : We could not compafle tryflyng toyes moft playne. Vnlefle our light we fought fome other where. Thou barkft abrode of Bookes, from whence it came, But can thy head (in fayth) no better gefle:

D.ij. The

31

T>elightfull Difcourfes

The toyes themfelues doe bid thee ceafe for fhame,

Left more thou fpurne, more folly thou exprefTe.

Well MOMVS mate, and fonne of ZOYLVS fecte,

That fo canft carpe at euery wylling minde :

Raze nothing downe, till fomething thou eredte,

Spare others fpoyle, fythe nought in thee we finde. Let them enioye the fruites of their defyre, That feekes good will, and craues no other hyre.

<§A Winters Morning mufe.

AS by occafion late, towards BRVTVS Citie olde, With quiet pace alone I rode, in winter fharp & colde. In my delating brains, a thoufand thoughts were fed, And battailewife a warre they made, in my perplexed hed. I thought on tymely change, and mufde on yerely wafte, How winter aye deuours the welth, that pleafant fommer plaft. I fawe the naked Fields vnclothde on euery fide, The beaten bufhes ftand al bare, that late were deckt with pride. Whofe fainting fap was fled, and falne from top to roote, Eche tree had newe caft of his Cote, and laid him at his foote. The fmale and fyllie Byrds, fat houering in the hedge, And water Fowles by Wynter forft, forfooke the Fenny fedge. Thus Nature altering quite, her earthly childrens cheere, Doth ftiewe what brittle ftay of ftate, and feeble holde is heere. Who as in {lender things, flie fhewes her yerely might, So doth (he like attempt her force, in all degrees aright. For as I mufing rode, I plainely might perceaue, (bereaue.

That like both change and chance there was, mans ftate that did I fawe the mounting minde, that clymbde to reach the Skyes, Aduanced vp by Fortunes wheele, on tickle ftay that lyes, Fall foone to flat decay, and headlong downe doth reele, As fickle Fortune lift to whyrle, her rounde vnftable wheele. Was neuer Prince of power, fo fafe in his degree, But deemde fometime the meaner fort, to fyt more fure then hee.

Then

tofundry purpofes.

Then to my felfe I fayde, if Fortune ftande vnfure,

And higheft type of worldly hap, vncertaine doe endure.

Why thirft we fo to raigne? why hunger we for heape ?

Why prefle we forth for worldly pompe, wth brech of quiet fleape?

Which lyke a Mothe eates out, the gaine of godly lyfe,

With all that ftretch their vaine defy re, to wreft thys worlde in ftryfe.

Whofe fruite of toyling paine, by fweate and forrow fought,

Is loft in twinckling of an eye, our name confumde to nought.

Yea though by worldly wyles, we thoufande driftes deuife,

A God there is that laughes to fcorne, the wifedome of the wife.

When thus along my waye, I diuerfly had mufde,

I found whome Fortune high did heaue, on fodaine me refufde.

Then he by Vertue ftayde, me thought the reft did pafle,

So farre as doth the pureft Golde, the vile and bafeft brafle.

Euen he I deemed bleft, that wearing Vertues Crowne,

Doth Hue contet, not caring ought, how Fortune fmile or frowne.

^Mans lyfe likened to a Stage play.

SIthe earth is Stage whereon we play our partes, And deedes are deemde according to defartes, Be warie how thou walkft vpon the fame, In playing thy parte, thy courfe vprightly frame.

Remember when thy tale is tolde, ftraight way Another fteps on ftage his part to playe, To whome thou muft refigne thy former ftate, As one that hath already playde his mate.

All welth, pompe, powre, high hap and princely Mace, Muft yeelden be to fuch as mall take place, As things but lente, to play our parts withall, Our meede no more, then our defarts doe fall.

Not he that playeth the ftatelieft parte moft praife, Nor he that weares the ryches robe alwaies,

D.iij. But

3?

Delight full *Difcourfes

But he whofe Vertues {hall exceede the reaft, How fo his feate be with the great or leaft.

Take heede therfore, and kepe eche CVE fo right, That Heauen for hyre vnto thy lotte may light. With greedie minde fo wreft not worldly gayne, That foule doe fpill, for flyding pleafures vayne.

Suffifed be with that fufficient is. And feeke the things that bring eternall blifTe, So fhalt thou here not onely purchafe prayfe, But after eke enioy moft happie dayes.

^To his Miflre/fe.

MAye name of feruaunt, to familier feeme, For fuch whofe feruice neuer fwarude away ? Can Noble mindes fo bafe of thofe efteeme, That freely yeelde for them to Hue or dye ? No, no, fome further fetche conceyued is, Which hath withdrawne from me that wonted name How fo it be, if I be more amifle, Then founde good will hath once defamed blame. The wrekfull Gods powre downe vpon my hed, Such fharpe reuenge as neuer man did feele : And let my Ghoft in LYMBO lowe be led, To TANTALS thyrft, or prowde IXIONS wheele.

What wouldft thou more? if I not wifhe thee well, In PLVTOS Den, then let me lyue and dwell.

^1 Reiuarde

M-

tofundry purpo/es.

not aliuayes aunfwere deferte.

SIth my defyre is preft to pleafe, Though not with glofing fhowe : And eke my deeds if proofe were made, Should tell what fayth I owe. Whereto fliall I impute my hap, To Fate or wante of fkill : When nought I finde but tickle truft, Where moft I meane good will.

e^ mufl he ale.

THe fparkes of loue within my breft, doe daylie fo increafe, That euery vain on fyre is fet, which none but thou mayft ceafe. So that in thee confifts my woe, in thee likewife my wealth, In thee with fpeede to haft my death, in thee to giue me health,

Who knows the heat of fired harts, when they to loue are thrall.

And (hall I thus a wofull Wight, in rigor ftill remayne ?

Shal fuch as fmale good wil me beare, thy grace fr5 me reftrayne (?)

Shall falfe perfwation fo preuaile, to let our wiftied ioye ?

Shall fayth and troth for their rewarde, reape naught but (harpe annoy ?

Or elfe fhal want of pyning welth, retract my iuft defier.

Do not the Gods at pleafure theirs, the lowe eftate raife higher ?

Is not the worldc and all therein, at their difpofmg ftill ?

Doth it not reft in them to giue, and take from whom they will.

No recklefle race then (halt thou runne, ne follow vaine delight,

In yeelding help to cure his harme, that holds thee dearft in fight.

Ne yet from tip of Fortunes wheele, thou malt ne flide nor fwarue,

Such hope I haue of better hap, the Fates do yet refarue.

Thy perfon, not thy pelfe, is all I wifhe and craue,

Which more I vowe I do efteeme, then heaps of coyne to haue.

D.iiij. The

T>elightfull Ttifcourfes

The greateft Princes aye by proofe, lead not the pleafantft lyfe, Nor euery maide that maryeth welth, becoms the happieft wyfe.

\ Nd if Loue be Lorde, who or what is he ? XlLIf Loue be not, who then bereaues my reft ? If no fuche thing, alas what ayleth me ? What breedes fuche broyle, what woundes my yeelding breft ?

To tell what tis, doth pafle my knowledge farre,

But who fo loues I fee doth Hue in warre.

^OfBayes and Willow.

SHewe forth your Bayes that boafte of fweete delightes, For I ne may fuch bliffull hap attayne : The Willow branche moft fit for wofiill wightes, Beholde I beare, a badge of fecret payne.

Which loe my fides enfliryne, and mall doe ftill, Till cruell Fate hath wrought on me her will.

Epitaph vfcm the death of the "Lady Katherme, late Countejfe ofPembrooke.

IF fuche doe mourne, whofe folace is bereft, And fighs feeme fharpe to thofe whom forrowes fting : If cares increafe where comforte none is left, And griefs do grow, where penfiue thoughts do fpring Then be we fure, our Lorde in fadde annoy, Doth wayle her death, whofe Jyfe was all his ioy.

If he (alas) with fobs her lofle bemones,

May ieruaunts fpare their fighes abroade to fende ?

Shall

tofundry purpofes.

Shall they in fecret fhrowde their gryping grones, When mayfters playnts may haue no power to ende ?

No, no, deepe dole our penfiue fides would pearce,

If we in teares our forrowcs not rehearce.

Then mourne with me my wofull fellows all, And tryll your teares your drooping cheekes adowne : Guflie forth a gulfe of griefes, let floodes downe fall, To wayle her wante, that fprang of high renowne. Who whyles fhe liude, did fundry feeke to ayde, But Death, O Death, thou haft them all difmayde.

The cheerefull fpring that doth eche foyle adourne, With pleafant fhowes, whereby delight is taken : Doth moue our mindes, alas the more to mourne, Our Ladle loft in fource of forrowes fhaken.

Which loe in Ver to heauen hath tane the waye,

To her great gayne, but oh to our decaye.

If Princes loue, if husbands care or Coyne,

If Noble friends, if proofe of Phificks lore :

By long attempt could ficknefle vndermoyne,

Or fearch of forrein foyle might health reftore. We fhould not yet haue feene the fonne to vade, Whofe clipfed light, hath turnde our fhyne to (hade.

But when the twyfte of this our tyme is wownde, No meanes by man may feme the fame to ftretch : Our lottes are layde, our bodyes haue their bownde, Tyme fwiftly runnes with fhort and curelefle breatch. Though world we weld in feate of Princely fway, Yet fwarues our ftate, as fhade that flydes away.

The glittering fhewes of higheft glory heere, Confumes to nought, like clowds difperft with winde :

E.j. And

37

Delightfull Difcourfes

And all that Nature from the earth doth reare, Returnes againe, whence firft it came by kinde : But Vertues webbe, which loe this Lady fponne, Shall laft for aye, now thefe her dayes be done.

Her praife on earth lyke Palme fhal florifhe ftill, Her Noble deedes mail Hue and neuer dye : Her facred fteps that fought eche vice to kill, Shall mounte aloft, though lowe in earth me lye. Who euen when latter pangues oppreft her moft, Did mercy craue in yeelding vp the Ghoft.

What would you more, her lyfe and death was fuch, As deeper head could not commend to much.

Vltlmum vale.

"TT^Arewell thou Pearle that Princes fauour founde, J^ Farewell the Saint thatjhielded our annoy : Farewell the Hauen whofe harbor was full founde, Farewell the Earke that brought her Chiefetaineioy.

Farewell thou Spowfe to him that held thee deare^ Farewell the Lampe that gaue fuch gladfome light : Farewell of mode ft Dames a Mirrour cleare^ Farewell thejhryne where <vertue Jhyned bright.

Farewell thou mlnde that mente to no wight ill, Farewell the harte that lodged honor aye : Farewell the hande that helpt the needle fill -y Farewell the ftaffe that fought the weake to ft ay.

Loe here in teares my laft farewell / take,

What Heauens will haue, the earth muft nee des for fake.

38

tofundry purpofes.

If I» aduerfitle^ Is hefl feene Vertues excellency.

WHcn Boreas rough, had leauelefle left eche tree, And horie HIEMS gan his raigne to holde : In walking forth, I might difcerne and fee, A ftately Palme, her branches greene vnfblde. At fight whereof, when I a tyme had mufed, By malice meanes, I fawe the tree abufed.

I fawe howe fwelling Enuye in the top, Sat fhrowded clofe, embrafmg (launders cup : By whome ftoode Hate, aye ready preft to crop, Ech fpringing fpray, fo foone as they fhot vp. And Flattery eke, did fiske from place to place, By SYNONS arte, to feeke the Palmes difgrace.

As Tennys Ball, yet make(sj the higheft bownde, When greater* powre is plafte to prefle the fame : Or as a Bell fends forth the brimmeft fownde, When deepeft downe the Ringer plucks the frame. Euen fo in fort, this Tree did rife and fpring, That Enuye fought by burden low to bring.

Which to your vertues may alude right well, Though Malice fainte, to matche you with her might : Yet fewe fo fure in thefe our dayes doe dwell, That Enuye neuer fpurnes with deepe difpight. If fuch then be, or if hereafter mall, The Gods graunt you, as to the Palme doth fall.

Delightfull Difcourfes

\Sorroiue difclofed^fome'wkat eafed*

SIthe kindled coales clofe kept, continue longeft quick, (prick. And fecret fmarte with greater power, the penfiue mind doth Why fhould I cloke the griefe, from whence fuch paflions grow, Vnlefle my braine by Pen I purge, my breft they ouerflow. When night with quyet paufe, eche creature cals to reft, Through quelling cares & pinching thoughts, 1 lye fo fore opreft, That from my fetling downe, vntill the tyme I rife, Sleepe hardly wins the force to clofe, my watchful drooping eies. The Skrich Owle me befides, her dolefull tunes doth fhreeke, Whofe cryes my cares may reprefent, that reft in vaine do feeke. To thinke on the miftiaps, which daylie me betyde, When fureft hope of fweete redrefle, I fee away doth flyde. The hardeft harte by proofe, doth yeelde an inwarde pante, When good defyres are depreft., by wrack of IRVS wante. Wante makes beft natures fall, that elfe would vpright ftand : Want makes the valiant faynt in feares, though ftrong be harte Want drowns in dollor deepe, the pleafants(t) wits y* bee, (& hand. Want daunts the finfte conceited head, and makes it dull we fee. Wante makes the olde wyfe trot, the yong to run outright, Wante makes the nobleft hart & mind, to feeme but bafe in fight. Wante makes the Lyon ftowte, a (lender pray to leeke, Want plucks the Pecocks plume adown, want makes ye mighty meeke Want is the fowrce whence forrows fpring, y* hafts ye lifes decay, Want loads the hart with heaped cares, that crufh al ioys away. Neede hath no la we fome fay, extremes, extremes doe vrge, The paflions that by want do pain, what phifick wel may purge ? Vnhappy is the hower, that fuch fharp ficknefle brings, And thrife vnhappy is the wretch, whom want fo deadly flings. Aye me that fuch fowre fa wee, falfe Fortune mould procure, When flylie forth me feemes to throw, her traine on golden lure. By fleight whereof flic doth, a pierfmg poyfon place, Ful clofely coucht on pleafant bayte, to worke our more difgrafe.

As

tofundry purpq/es.

As I but lately trycd, who doe her guyle fo tafte,

That fecretly I fup the fmarte, that my good dayes defafte.

The time that I began to enter fyrft to lyfe,

Would God the fillers three had cut, the threed with fatall knyfe.

Would God that Death had bene, with bowe and arrows bente,

To pierce the woful hart of mine, which now with care is fpent.

Whofe hard and crooked fate, increafmg euery hower,

Doth force me wake when others fleepe, where Fortune doth not lower.

And when the dawning daye, I doe perceyue and fee,

And how fyr TYTAN vaunts himfelfe, full braue in fyrft degree,

Whofe gladfome golden beames, doe moue eche thing to ioye,

Saue onely me, whofe wrackfull woes, haue wrought my fadde annoy.

Then from my couch I creepe, al clad with cloke of care,

And forth to walke in defarte woodes, my felfe I doe prepare.

Where none but wofull wights, do wandring waile their griefe(,)

Where violence doth vengeance take, where neuer comes relief.

Where pleafure playes no parte, nor wanton lyfe is ledde,

Where daintie lookes no danger makes, nor nice defyre is fedde.

Where former ioyes do vade, and turne to paflions ftrange,

Where al delights condemde are fhut, in fliarp repentace grange (.)

Where fetled forrowe fits, with head hangde on her breft,

And wrings her hands for follies paft, her prefent paines y* preft.

Where Dolor ruthfull Dame, with fad Difpaire doth dwell,

Where Furies fierce doe fwarme & flock, not diftant farre from Hell.

Euen there in dolefull Den, driue forth I doe the day,

Whereas my painefull piercing woes, at no time finde delay.

Within whofe troubled head, fuch throng of thoughts do rife,

That nowe on this, and then on that, in minde I ftill deuife.

Among great thoughts throwne vp, I downe will fet the leaft,

How fyllie birde in prifon pente, tane from the Nurfe in neaft.

Doth ioye in that her lyfe, fo much as though flie might,

From wood to wood, or fielde to fielde,at pleafure take her flight.

By whome I learne how man, from Cradle aye brought vp,

In bafe eftate that neuer felt the tafte of pleafures Cup,

Doth holde himfelfe fo well, content with his degree,

That he in lyfe doth feldome feeke, his ftate more high to fee.

4.1 E.iij. But

"Delight full 'Difcourfes

But I as Byrde vnlyke, that flewe in prime her flight.

Through gallant groues & fertyle fields, in ioys & fweete delight.

Which fhall no fooner feele her felfe to be reftraynde,

From her fuch wonted libertie as fometime fhe retaynde,

But forthwithall ftie doth, fuch inwarde woe conceyue,

That yeelding vp her pleasures paft, her life therwith doth leaue.

When as the byrde in Cage, doth fporting fing and playe,

Who neuer found the place wherein, fhe felt more happy daye.

Loe thus the greater oft, are taught by things but fmall,

To knowe what reftlefle griefe it breedes, from fortunes grace to fall.

I therfore wifhe my lyfe, which all to long doth lafte,

In fympleft fort had euer bene, from tyme to tyme ypafte.

So I by cuftome fhould, haue likt my prefent paye,

Which now by taft of wrackfull change, in woe do waft awaye.

Omnisfortunafuperandaferendo ejt.

Offufferance comes eafe.

WHo wayles at paine of forrowes deadly fmarte, By wayling much encreafeth forrowes might: In greateft griefes who fhewes the quiets(t) harte, By pacience driues fharpft griefe to fpeedy flight.

Repine, griefe growes, be ftill, griefe foone decayes : SufFrance the salue for griefe at all aflayes.

As Balles if thrown e gainft ftones do foone rebounde, But faft they ftick, if caft they be at durte : So griefs nought harme where yeelding none is found : Once fainte, and then they caufe fome mortall hurte.

By proofe and tryall, this moft true we finde,

Leaft hurte by griefe is done to ftowteft minde.

Pacience and ftowtnefle lodged in thy breft, Shall voyde from thence, griefe forrow and vnreft.

A»M. Vt ammo ^ fie amico.

f H. His 4*

tofundry purpqfes.

1TH. H/V Reply to his friend. A.M.

THe helthfull wight, with pleafure well may fmg, And courage hie to cheare the ficke may mewe : But if difeafe his happy ftate fhould fting, Thofe loftie tunes would fainte and fall more lowe. For Turrets tops that feemes to reach the Skyes, By thundring ftormes to (hieuers fmale are fhaken, The ftrongeft holde where ftowteft Souldiours lyes, Mauger their might, more greater force hath taken. The foundeft fhyp long toft with tempeft, leakes, In wraftling windes, the hugie Cables fayle : The brafen peece furchargde with powder breakes, And valiant hartes orewhelmde in woe, do quayle. The craggy Clyftes by floodes are fret at length, The hardened fteele obeyes the hammers ftroke, The ftiffeft bow ftill bente, doth lofe his ftrength, Bafe Fortunes blowes, all ioy like wife doth choke. How maye he then poflefle a quiet minde, That caufe of reft doth feelde or neuer finde.

f H. to himfelfe.

WHom defteny fhall denye, A happy lyfe to finde : Why fhould he wayling lye, With penfiue hart and minde.

What gaine by mourning got, What loft by little care: When needs muft light to lot, What defteny doth prepare.

E.iiij.

Delightfull T)ifcourfes

^Written to a mop excellent Booke^full of rare muention.

GOe learned booke, and vnto PALLAS fing, Thy pleafant tunes that fweetely fownde to hie For PAN to reache, though ZOYLVS thee doth fting, And lowre at thy lawde, fet nought thereby. Thy makers Mufe in fpight of enuies chinne, For wife deuife, deferued praife fhall winne.

Who views thee well, and notes thy courfe aright, And fyftes eche fence that couched is in thee : Muft needes extoll the minde that did thee dight, And wifhe the Mufe may neuer weary bee.

From whence doth flowe fuch pithe in filed phrafe,

As worthieft witte may ioy on thee to gafe.

How much they erre, thy rare euent bewray es,

That ftretch their skill the Fates to ouerthrow :

And how mans wifedome here in vaine feekes wayes,

To fhun high powers that fway our ftates below. Againft whofe rule, although we ftriue to runne, What IOVE fbrefets, no humaine force may fhunne.

But all to long, thou hidfte fo perfite worke,

Seeft not defyre, how faine fhe feekes to finde :

Thy light but loft, if thou in darkneffe lurke ?

Then mewe thy felfe and feeme no more vnkinde. Vnfolde thy fruite, and fpread thy mayfters praife, Whofe prime of youth, graue deeds of age difplaies.

Go choyce conceits, MINER VAS Mirrour bright, With Rubies ritch yfret, wrought by the wife :

Purfled

44

tofundry purpofes.

Purfled with Pearle, and decked with delight, Where pleafure with profite, both in their guife. Difcourfe of Louers, and fuch as fblde fheepe, Whofe fawes weJl mixed, fhrowds mifteries deepe,

Goe yet I fay with fpeede thy charge delyuer, Thou need ft not blufhe, nor feare the foyle of blame : The worthy Countefle fee thou follow euer, Tyll Fates doe fayle, maintaine her Noble name. Attend her wyll, if me vouchfafe to call, Stoope to her ftate, downe flat before her fall.

And euer thanke thou him, that fyrft fuch fruite did frame, By whome thy prayfe mail Hue, to thy immortall fame.

I) Where Sorroiue is fetled, delyght is banijhed.

THe Sable fadde bewrapped hath my lymmes, (A fute moft fyt for one repleat with griefe.) Whofe ftrayned hart in fowrce of forrowe fwymmes, Where wrackfull woes at no tyme finde reliefe. Whofe fbode is feare, whofe drinke is dolor deepe, Whofe fawce is fighes, whofe taft fharpe paflions are : Whofe reft is ruthe, where forrowes neuer fleepe, Whofe comfort clipfed is with clowds of care. Whofe helpe is frozen, whofe hap hath hard euente, Whofe hope is queld with clogge of colde difpayre : Whofe truft is tyerd, whofe toyle in vaine is fpente, Whofe penfiue plaintes but beate the barreyn ayre. Where nought I finde, but drugges of bitter tafte, Whofe dolefull dayes in darke annoye do wafte.

"Delightful! Dtfcourfes

complaint e of a forroiofull wight yfounde languijhing in a Forrep.

WHen fpring in lyuely greene, eche fielde hath deckt anewe, And ftrowde the foyle with flowers fweete of fundry kinds of What time the cheerefull buds, & bloflbms braue in fight, (hewe. Inuites the weary dulled minde, abroad to take delight. Then I by fancie led, a tyme to fporte and play, To Forreft fayre of pleafant ayre, began to take the way. And as I paft through out a Valley fayre and greene, Where fundrye fweete 6c rare delights, I earft had heard & feene. All whufte I found it tho, fuch filence was there kept, As if it midnight then had beene, and all thing founde had flept. Whereat amazde I ftoode, and liftning long, might heare, At laft a dolefull founding voyce, with lowe lamenting cheare, In fhrubs hard flirowded by, a wofull wight there Jay, Whofe corps through care & lingering griefe, was wel ny worne away. Where powring out his plainte he curft the tyme, and when That fyrft on earth he placed was, to lead his lyfe with men. Whofe felfeloue feemth fo fweete, that friendfhip yeeldes no tail, And double dealing gaines fuch price, that plainenefle is difplaft. Alas, quoth he the Babes, one wombe brought forth and bare. Will nowe obiedt, what are we bounde, the one to others care. Whereas good nature bids, go meete thy friends diftrefle, And beare fome parte of his mimap, that he may beare the lefle. If friend to friend thus doe, who fafter friend fhould bee, Then he (alas) in thy diftrefle, that nought will doe for.thee. Ah wofull man he fayth, thy lotte hath falne thee fo, That fowrce of forrowes thee befets, with waues of wailful wo. When he where fauour moft, thou ftiouldft by nature finde, Doth caufelefle make thee of in care, & fhewes himfelfe vnkinde. O wretch in dolor drencht, O minde with mone oppreft, O gulfe of griefe, O fea of fighes, that ftraine the penfiue breft. If wel by Pen thou couldft, thy prefent paflions fhowe, The hart that hardned nowe remaines, woulde foone relente I knowe.

But

tofundry purpofes.

But fith my hap is fuch, as rcape may no redrefle,

Come forth you Forreft DRIADS all, your mournefull Tunes exprefle.

Drawe neere you SATYRS fewer, and ftraine your dolefull cryes,

To wayle the woes of him (alas) in languor deepe that lyes.

Be witnefle woodes and Fields, ye Trees recorde my bale,

You NAIDES eke that haunt the Springs, repeate my wofull tale.

And fay vnto the wight, that bydes vnfriendly bente,

How death would be fo fweete to me, as ioy to his contente.

For better twere of bothe, then reftlefle ftill remayne,

By ending quyte my lothed lyfe, to ende my lingering payne.

Here fparing further fpeeche, afide he caft his eye,

And fynding me, as one difmayde, away he fought to flye.

Whofe will when I perceaude, to fliunne my fight full bente,

I to him ftept, and askte the caufe, that moude him to lamente.

Wherto no worde he gaue, but ftands like one amazde,

And with a ftrange and gaftly looke, long tyme on me he gazde.

His face was thinne and leane, his collour dim as leade,

His cheeks were wanne, his bodv weake, his eyes deepe funck in head.

His hart ftraynde, his minde toft, his wyt with woe nere worne,

A rufull thing it was (alas) to viewe him fo forlorne.

With deepe fet fighe from breft, fent forth by inwarde payne,

His feeble voice and fbltring tongue, he gan at Jaft to ftrayne.

And thus to me he fayde : O what art thou in wo :

Me Myfer wretche that here doft finde, with griefe perplexed fo ?

Whofe prefent ftate to learne, why doft thou thus require ?

Smale gayne to thee, great paine to me, to yeelde to thy defire.

Yet fithe againft my will, thine eares haue heard the plainte,

Which in this defarte place I pafte, to eafe my breft attainte.

Thus much at thy requeft, I further will reueale,

As for the reft this corps of mine, for euer mall conceale.

Whom earft a friend I founde, me cauflefle hath fbrfaken,

What wouldft thou more this is the fumme, that I with fighes am

But cruel fate I feare, doth force it fo to be, (fhaken.

Adue farewell, let this fuffice, inquier no more of me.

Which faide away he goes, God knoweth a wofull wight,

And leaues me there with forrow fraight, y* fought to take delight(.)

+7 FJJ. Of

"Delight full 'Difcourfes

THe kindled fparkes of fyre, that Fancies motions moue, Do force me feele, though I ne fee, nor know not what is loue, Defyre on ruth doth runne, imbracing griefe for game, Whofe ioye is like the Flies delight, that fries amid the flame. It yeelds and mercy craues, yet wots not who makes warres, The only thing it lees or knowes, is one that loue preferres.

YOu loue belike to freefe amid the flame, To weepe in ioye, to ioy in great diftrefle : To laugh in teares, to leape and yet be lame, Midft greeuous myrth & gladfome heauineffe. To fmck in dread, and not to feeke redrefle, You Tmvs lyke doe play this wofull parte, Your loue the Grype that tyers vpon your harte.

*§Euer fought , neuer founde.

THe more I itriue, the ftronger is my thrall, The ftronger thrall, the weaker ftill mine ayde : The weaker ayde, the greater griefe doth fall, The greater griefe, the more with doubt difmayde.

Where lyfe I reache, there dollor biddes me die, In fweeteft foyle, I ftraine the greateft Snake : My cares increafe, when comfort drawes moft nie, From dainty pray, I pearfing poyfon take.

Still pynde in colde, I parched am with heate, As fyre I flye, vpon the flame I runne :

In

tofundry purpofes.

In fwelting gleames, my chylly corps I beate, Congealde to Ice, where fhynes the cleereft funne. Loe thus I lyue, and lyuing thus I dye, Drownde in difpayre, with hope aduaunced hye.

e valiant minde, by venture gaines the Goale, Whyles fearefull wightes in doubt doe blow the coale.

B

Ut wary wightes, by wifedome fhunne the fnare, When venterous minds through haft, are wrapt in care.

is as it is taken.

SOme onely for difporte, a kinde of myrth doth rayfe, For which of fome they finde diflyke, of fome they purchafe prayfe. The Tale that fome clowte vp, with rude vnciuill fence, Doth more delight the eares of fome, then fweeteft eloquence. The Foole fometimes doth pleafe, when wife afide are fhake, Then true it is that euery thing, is as men lifte it take.

Who hath

Or can he ai

Some carpe at others

And fome by high difdaine doe feeke, to mende APELLES fhue. What fome in others fpurne, themfelues would not fbrfake, But wylie Foxe from lofty Vine, doth vow no grapes to take.

A worde pafte forth in fporte, to earneft oft doth turne, So where there was no fire before, great flames on fodain burne(.)

F.iij. Not

4*

Delightfull Discourfes

Not one mans children all, eche Nature is not leeke, But who hath mean to meafure wil, mal giue the greater gleeke. Firft looke then leape, the blind doth run in many a brake, And eche thing ftill by proofe we fee is as men lift it take.

Who fo doth rule his rage, by wifdoms facred skill, No doubt fhal fhunne ful great annoy, that follows rafhnes ftill. And who his tongue can ftay, till place and time doe feme, His mind at large may better fpeake and greater praife deferue. Though friends like friends would fhade, the funbeams for thy Yet al things are afliiredly, as men them lift to take. (fake,

But al not friends in deede, of friendfhips bounds that boftes, Take heede, no houfe may long indure, propt vp wth rotten poftes. Some rotten are at harte, yet beares a friendly face, And vnder cloke of fawning mews, a Serpents fting thimbrace. Tis hard to know of whom we certaine counte may make, For though they fmile, yet thee they deeme, as they thee lift to take.

As they thee lift to take, fuche fhalbe their reporte, Malicious minds are euer preft againft the vertuous forte. Be chary in thy choice, leaft frawde thy faith abufe, Of fundrie fedtes embrace the beft, the flattering flock refufe. Thus warely runne thy race, efchew the lurcking Snake, Imbrace the good, as for the reft, no force how they thee take.

his Lady of her doubt full aunjiuere.

TWixt death and doubt fulnefle, Twixt paine and penfiuenefTe, Twixt Hell and heauynefle, Refts all my carefulnefTe.

O vaine fecuritie, That will not libertie, Fjre on that fantafie, That brings captiuitie.

My

tofundry purpofes.

My lyfe is lothfomnefle, My pleafure paftimelefle, My ende your doubtfulnefle, If you be mercylefle.

In doubt is iealofie, Hope helpeth miferie, Moil women commonly, Haue aunfwers readily.

^| Helpe heft 'welcome , •when moft needefulL

THe bitter fmarte that ftraines my mated minde, Through quelling cares that threate my woful wrack : Doth prick me on againft my wyll I finde, To pleade for grace, or elfe to pine in lack. As fainting foule fokt vp with fickly paine, Prayeth Phificks aide in hope of helth againe.

Whilfte Sea roomes ferues, the fhipman feares no foyle, In quiet Porte there needes no Pilotes Arte : But when through wearie winters tyring toyle, Cleere Sommers calmes to carefull clowds conuarte. And ftreaming ftormes at hand do danger threate, Then Mafters ayde is fought in perrill great.

So I right Noble Peere and Lodeftarre mine, Whofe Pynnis fmale an vpright courfe hath ronne : In feruice yours, am forced nowe in fine, Mine ancors worne, my fayles and tackling donne, In humbleft wife your honors help to craue, My foredriuen fhip from fwal lowing vp to faue.

F.iiij. You

"Deltghtfull Dtfcourfes

You are the Hauen whereon my hope depends,

And I the Barck vpon the drie fliore dryuen :

You eke the lande that cheerefull Pilotte lends,

And I the wight, whom Seas to wrack hath giuen. What refteth then, if Harbour you denye, But that my (hyp muft perifhe, fmck and dye ?

For now to late to fownde fome other more, And he that hath and mould by nature ayde : Withdrawes his hande, and fayth he may no more, Loe thus alas, I liue lyke one difmayde.

Twixte death and doubt, ftill furgde vpon the fande,

Stayde vp by hope to light on fyrmer lande.

But oh, O me, where AVTVMNE fruitelefle flydes, A barren hope to HIEMS falles by kinde : In Harueft tyme, whofe trauaile nought prouydes, A nypping Winter mail be fure to finde.

So carelefle youth that waftes his yeares in vaine,

In age repents bereft of hope or gaine.

As yeares increafe, vncertaine hope feemes harde, When ficknefle fharpe hath gathered greateft force : Then Phificks cure doth feeme a fweete rewarde, Which you may yeelde, if pleafe you take remorfe. My ftepdame ftrange, I Fortune yet doe finde, Which makes me more to dread fome wrack behind.

For where I feeke the depth of hope to founde,

To helpe my felfe, and ftay my credite ftill :

To fronte my courfe, doth crooked hap rebounde.

Through fuch I feare, as euer mente me ill. Or elfe in ftate I ftande the moft accurft, (If feruice long me fhrowde not from the wurft.)

Though

tofundry purpofes.

Though fome be flowe to reache reliefe at neede, And with delay es the matter will delate : Yet Noble minde then fheweth it felfe in deede, By gyuing ftrength vnto the weakned ftate, ] feeke no ftore to lyue and lye at reft, I wiflie but ayde in that I am oppreft.

\

Which if you graunt, you mall great honor gayne, And eke encourage thofe of yonger dayes : With cheerefull hope themfelues & friends to ftrayne, To ferue a wyght that fo his feruaunt ftayes. And I releaft from wrackfull woes vnreft, Will blafe your praife tyll lyfe mail faile my breft.

^Ofthe Golden worlde.

THe golden worlde is paft fayth fome, But nowe fay I that worlde is come : Now all things may for Golde be had, For gayne of Golde, both good and bad. Now honour hie for Golde is bought, That earft of greater price was thought. For Golde the Foole alofte doth rife, And ofte is plafte aboue the wife. For Golde the fubtile fhewe their skill, For Golde the wicked winne their will. For Golde who fhunnes to wreft a wrong, And make it feeme as right and ftrong ? Who fpares to pleade as pleafeth thee, If bring thou doe a golden fee ? The Fatherlefle is quyte forgot, Where golden giftes doe fall to lot. For Golde the Wyddow is oppreft, And rightfull heyres are difpofleft. Poore IRVS caufe at dore doth ftande, If CRCESVS come with Golde in hande.

G.j.

What

'Ddightfull Dtfcourfes

What mifchiefe may almoft be thought, That now for Golde not daylie wrought ? A heape of ylles for Golde are clokte, Yea vice for Golde hath vertue chokte. For gayne of Golde the Flatterer fmyles, And on thee fawnes with fundry wyles. I will not here through golden traps, Say Louers light in Ladies laps. But briefe to bee, what can you craue, That now for Golde you may not haue ? Then truth to tell, and not to fayne, Right now the golden worlde doth raygne.

O Gracious Golde, Whofe glittering hie : Doth cheere and holde, Eche gazing eie. The fweete delight, That dweiles in thee : Doth fpoyle eche fpight, And pouertee. Thou liftes aloft, Who late was lowe : By thee Fooles oft, The wife orethrow. What ioy, what gaine, What worldly thing : Doth want to them, That Golde doe bring ?

Golde buyldeth townes, Golde maketh ioy : Gold cheereth clownes, Golde quelth anoy. Golde all can doe, Golde raignes alone : Alas what woe, Where Golde is none. As I poore wight, By proofe doe fee : Which gladly feeke, That will not bee. But well I were, If I might catch, Whyte fyluer cleere, Which all men fnatch.

tofundry purpqfes.

THe wante of Coyne fo grypcs my breft, That what to doe I know not beft, I trudge, I toyle, I feeke, I fue, But aye good hap bids me adue.

. H.

IF nipping necde LEGITTIMVS conftraynde, in hande to grype the heauie Hammer great : With which through wante his Princely corps he paynde,

on ftythie hard, in VVLCANS trade to beat. If he (I fay) of crowned king the fonne,

by fate was fbrfte fuch bitter blaftes to bide : Difpaire not thou thy wrackfull race to runne.

for welth as fhade from eche eftate doth flide. Pluck vp thy harte, thy hap not yet fo harde,

fmce Princes great haue felt a fall more deepe : King DIONISE from regall rule debarde, for his reliefe a Grammer fchoole did keepe.

By which thou mayfte thy wandring minde fuffife, That Fortunes wheele now vp, now down doth rife.

^Of Friends.

AS fyre doth fine and feperate Golde from drofle, And mews the pure and perfite from the vyle: Right fo is tryde, when nipping ftormes doe tofle, A faythfull friend, from fuch as meane but guyle. Whylfte Fortune fmyles, and thou no wante doft feele, Of friends no doubt thou {halt haue heaped ftore, But if me once doe whyrle afide hir wheele, They flinke away, as though vnknowne before.

G. ij. Like

Delightful! Difcourfes

Lyke Dbues that leaue the olde and ruynous towre, And flocking flye to buyldings braue and new : So fayned friends, when fortune feemes to lowre, Their flight do take, and bids thee ftraight adew,

Thus he which earft had friends on euery fide,

Not hauing one, alone doth now abide.

^Anfwere. E.L.

IF perfite tryall might as foone be had, Of perfite men, as of the pure Golde :

It were not hard to know the good from bad,

Their difference foone might eafilye then bee tolde.

For Fyre lefle than in an houres fpace,

Will finde the fault of Golde, and make it plaine,

But men haue meanes to counterfeyt fuch grace,

That they will aske at leaft a yeare or twaine.

And yet at laft will not be tryde at all,

For fome perchance will byde a toutch or two,

And will not feeme to flye when you fhall fall :

But offer you what they and theirs can doe. Yet not fo founde as they fhould be in deede, But make a meanes to make you ferue their neede.

If Reply to the fame.

THat longer tyme the Friend than Golde fhould trye, I neuer yet denide nor would defende : How fayned friends do fayle, if fate doe wrye, Is totall fumme wherto my tale doth tende. For euery thing hath certaine tyme I knowe, The full effect to worke of Natures charge, The tender twig in tyme a tree doth growe, And little Babes in tyme doe proue more large. Some fruite fcarce rype, when fome doe drop away, Some bloume, fome beare according to their kinde,

Some

tofundry purpofes.

Some foone flioote vp, fome longer fpace doe ftay, Eche taketh the time that Nature hath aflignde. The Marble ftone in time by watery drops Is pierced deepe, and eke in time doth fall, The ftately towres with fine and curious tops, For time in time, no doubt tryes all in all. Which triall firfte, occafion feekes to make, As fyre by heate the Golde doth fine and pure, In neede likewife occafion men fliall take, A friend to try, from fuch as ftande vnfure. But fome a time will feeme to ftay fay you, And after fayle, perceyuing further neede : No doubt you here haue aymde the marke to true, For fuche is fure the fruite of fubtile feede. Thefe friends are like to one that vndertakes, To runne the race, whereby to gayne the prayfe : Who running well, at firft, on fodaine flakes, And in the midft his race leaues off and ftayes. Not aye doth proue the glorious morning fhowe The fayreft day, ne all that mines is golde : And therefore friends in deede are harde to knowe, For fome a ftorme or two, like friendfhip holde. The flowres yet in tyme from weedes appeare, Whofe difference firft in fpring we fcarce difcerne, The funne orecaft with clowde in time doth cleere, And eke in time our friends from fuch we learne. For as one tutch or two no perfite proofe Doth make of friends, no more doth Golde one heate. Yet tyme vs tels who links, who lyes aloofe, Who byrds doth yeelde, and who the bufhe doth beate. Wherfore I ende, as Golde by fyre is tryde, So friends by proofe at needefiill tymes are fpyde.

G. iij. f ^

w

Delightfull Dtfcourfes

^Another 'way. Hen once you haue falfe fortunes fickle wheele.

perceyude with paine, and tryde with troubled toyle The found to fee, and forged friend to feele,

it is not harde, for falshed hath the foyle. If then you finde that Fortune ftands your foe,

let wifedome welde your wit, and all your wayes : So fayned friends their fayth that doe forgoe,

fliall be afhamde, and you attaine to prayfe. For though the wheele with care do caft you downe, Yet PALLAS playes, when Fortune falfe doth frowne.

^[3> his Friend M. S.

IF friendfhip true be tryde when welth doth fayle, from fuch as fayne, and flee if fortune lowre : If he a friend that feemes not then to quayle, but feekes to helpe and ayde his friend to powre. My STAPLEE then a friend thou art in deede, That helps thy friend in time of nipping neede.

Tfl» mediocrttie, moftfafetie.

yi S meane in Muficke foundeth befte, XA.SO meane eftate liues moft in refte. The higher clymde, the fall more deepe, The deeper fall, the doubler paine, Declyning paine doth carefull keepe, In man eche liuely limme and vaine.

Which prooues what change or chaunce doe fall, Contented meane exceedeth all.

58

tofundry purpofes.

the fame.

THe high eftate is daungerous, The poore degree is burdenous.

The welthie forte are couetous,

The needie foule is dolorous.

The youthfull Imps are prodigall.

The aged be to riches thrall.

The bolder men fbolehard ye call,

And fearefull wightes are daftards all. Then yll efchew, embrace things cleane, Well rare the fweete and golden meane.

^That valiant hartes are defyrws to afpyre.

EChe valiaunt harte and Noble minde, with loftie courage hye : The mightie Mountayne feekes to fcale, and lets the Molehill lye.

THe mounting minde that hafts to climbe, when Fortune whirles her wheele : With double dolour is depreft, if downe he chaunce to reele.

^Another ivaye.

^T^O climbe to high muft needes be nought, _L the feare to fall doth breede difeafe : To finke to lowe brings carefull thought,

difpayring payne can neuer pleafe. The golden meane giues quiet reft, Who Hues betwene extremes doth beft.

G. iiij. 19

Ttelightfutt Difcourfes

^To his Friend JS. R. of the Bee.

WHere as thy minde I fee doth mounte, to buylde thy neft on hye : I thinke it good in meaner forte,

thy wings thou guyde to flye. For loftie trees on Mountayne toppes,

with euery bluftering blafte Are fhaken fore, when trees belowe

doe ftande both firme and fafte. The Bee whofe force but feeble is,

to Beaftes of bigger powre : Hir felfe doth feede with Hony fweete,

when greater tafte things fowre. Which prooues the meane with minde content,

more happy lyfe we fee : Than is to tafte the fowre, and fitte

in feate of highe degree. From thorny flirubs and barren foyle,

fwete fap the Bee doth fucke : When bigger beaftes in fertyle Fields,

with nipping ftormes are ftucke. And he within his fymple Cell,

doth dwell in fafety founde : When fuch as feeke to fayle aloft,

in dole are oft times drounde. Seeke not therefore with troubled minde,

at ftately porte to riue : But liue content as doth the Bee,

within his homely Hiue. So mail thy foode be Honie fweete,

though Fortune fmile or frowne : And eke in fafetie malt thou fit,

when higher tumble downe.

•[Sure

60

tofundry purpofes.

\Sure counfell^foundefrlendjhip.

OF Louers reftles lyucs I lyfte not wryte, Let learned heads defcribe their painefull plight, But playne in termes, I wifhe thee euen fo well, As thofe that can fine Tales for Louers tell.

Whofe friendly meaning if thou wilt receaue, Deteft difloyall loue, to Vertue cleaue, And feeke by honeft meanes thy ftate to ftay, The vertuous lyfe doth fyldome bring decay.

Counte not the byrds that vndifclofed bee, Waygh words as winde that yeelds no certaintie, For polifht words that deedes doe neuer yeelde, May likened be vnto the barreyn Feelde.

Prouyde in youth, thy aged yeares to keepe, And let fayre fpeeche go lulle the fbnde a fleepe, Sir MACHIAVELL fuch cunning nowe hath tought, That wordes feeme fweete when bitter is the thought.

Whilft youth, ftrength, skyll, welth, friends & coyne wil ftretch, Thou fayre art borne, by many a guilfull fetch, But if thefe helpes but once beginne to fainte, Adieu farewell, colde comfort findes complainte.

Take heede therefore, retyre in time from thofe, To ferue their turnes, that teach their tongues to glofe. Whofe golden fliews, although do promife much, In proofe fall out but Copper in the touch.

Delight full T>tfcourfes

\They per forme not befi^ that promlfe moft.

WHat holde in hope, or truft to fayre allure, Shee that my fweeteft yeares beguylde can tell : By whome 1 learne there is no way fo fure, Ne fpeedier meane to guyde a man to hell. Loe, he that lifte fuch fayned hope to prooue, Shall fubiedt Hue, and nere raigne ouer loue.

The pleafure of her piercing eyes methought, Should be the lightes that leade to happinefle: Alas I was to bolde, but fhe more nought, To falfe fuche fayth, and meaning nothing lefTe,

What heauen is hid in loue, who feekes to fee,

Muft fue and ferue a better Saint than fhee.

Though tyme hath ftayed the rage of my defyre, Yet doth her fight renewe my feftred wounde: I curfle the arte that caufde me to afpire, In hope of truthe, where no truft could be founde.

But tyll my foule fliall breake this carefull gayle,

Loue may not mayftred be, nor I preuayle.

\Beiutie the bayte ofVanitie*

A Flattering forme hath fliowes that foone doe pafle, And vade away as doth the wythered grafle. The more it haftes to reache the rypeft yeares, The more it faylth, and worfe the forme apeares. Of pleafant Flowers, the Rofe that hath no Peere, The Violets frefhe, and Lyllies whyte and cleere, Doe not alwayes retaine their hewe and fente, And floorifhe ftill with fmell moft redolente. So though thou feeme of feature parting all, And bearst the forme and fame as principall,

Whofe 61

tofundry purpofes.

Whofe bewtie fhewes, hath blafde thy fliape in fight, Which thou in Glafle to view, takeft great delight. Yet tyme on poolliiht forme fliall furrows plowe, And wrythed wrinckles peere on blemifht browe. That lothe thou flialte, to note thy changed hewe, And hate thy forme in Mirror bright to viewe. Loe Ladie fay re, that bewtie is but vaine, Experience fhewes, when Vertue voyde of ftainc, Doth florifhe frefhe, whome if thou doe embrace, The more fhe growes, the greater is her grace.

fO/ Fortune.

O Fortune falfe how double are thy deedes, Thy painted Flowres are nought in proofe but weedes. Who are brought downe, by thy moft frowarde frownes, Still fubiedt liue, and trouble them redownes. To flipper happes annexed are their dayes, To Lyons force, their bodyes are but prayes. What fo they winne by meritte or deferte, Is from them reft, by power that doth fubuerte. Now welthy men doe tell the wifeft tales, And muck is made an equall weyghing fchales. No reafon yet, but right fhould be offeree, And vertue would that wante mould finde rcmorfc. But as the tofled Barke bydes better blyfle, And fharpeft thrall in tyme releafed is, And as the feeble Reedes are rente by Seas, Yet fpring againe, when fwelling waues appeafe. So hope I will, though now the ebbe be lowe. A fpring in time with former courfe may flowe.

Ttdightfull Difcourfes

*\ A Sonet.

IF wayghtie burthens may be light, Or fayre deniall det requite : If Juftice can be termed error, Or drofle for good and perfite treafor. If Maye may be without delyte, Or Snowe of other hewe than whyte, If Cunning can be without skill, Or women without headftrong will, If Pardon where there is no fynne, Or Lofle where euery man doth winne, If Paradife in Hell you fee, Or fylent whereas women bee. Then mail not Loue be termed hate, Nor lowe degree the happieft ftate, But all this muft prooue contrarie, And therfore Loue is Loyaltie.

Flee it, and it will flee thee, Follow it, and it will follow thee.

her Louer, that made a. conqueft of her ^ andfled^ leaning her 'with childe.

AT ftryfe to whqme I might, commit my fecret teares : My heart the Mountaynes fight, and hollow ECCHO feares.

I doubt the DRYADES,

amids the Forreft chafe, And thinking on the Seas,

I dread the Marmayds grace.

What

tofundry purpofes.

WhatfhallltrufttheSkyes?

then me the windes bewray : Poore foule whom IOVE denyes,

eche caytife doth betray.

Ha heauy hart, thy meede, O tell, tell out thy minde :

Ponder his fykhie deede, that left his fliame behinde.

And lyke a Cowarde fledde, fearing the chylde vnborne :

Whofe mother hee mould wedde, that hath the Babe forfworne.

Was euer Mayde fo madde, that might her fay th forgo ?

Was euer boy fo badde, to vfe a may den fo ?

His teares did me beguyle, and cleane oppreft my powre,

As doth the Crocodile, in feeking to deuoure.

Howe could I well denic, when needes it muft be fo :

Although a mamefull I, fhould haue a fhamelefle no.

O faythlefle friend my guylte,

that firft with guyle began : O fbolifhe friend that fpylte,

her mirror on the man.

H.UJ. What

Delight full Difcourfes

What hath thy Country done, or natiue foyle anoyde :

To force thee it to fhonne, wherein thy Louer ioyde.

No forrein Hauen can hide, ne colour thine intent :

If lyfe in Babe abide,

that doth thy fault prefent.

And when thy fame hath worne, within th'lTALiAN cofte :

Thou shalt be laught to fcorne, of them that loude thee mofte.

The Gods will haue a (hare, in gyuing him his hier :

That faythlefle falfly fware, and prooude himfelfe a lier.

And I thy mortall foe, by fylthie luft beguylde :

To wreake me of my woe, will flay thy filly childe.

In ftead of quiet graue,

wherein his corfe mould reft : Thy Impe his hearfe fhall haue,

in bowels of a beaft.

My daintie tamed wombe, that to thy (hare befell :

Shal finde no doubt a tombe, amids the mayds in hell.

66

tofundry purpofes.

urdened to fayne his good ty/7/, he aunfwereth thus.

IF mine thy little care, if thine my reftlefle ftate, If thine the brunts in breft I beare,

of mine to loue or hate. Then trie thou fhouldft to true,

that falflhood naught did frame : Though now my fmarts thou lift not rue,

but makes my griefe thy game. But out alas I die,

this change is nothing fo : For I in languifhe ftill doe lye,

and fawne on thee my foe. Who fmiles to fee my fmarte,

and Jaughes when I doe weepe : Regarding naught my faythfull harte,

yet from me doft it keepe. Thus harte to faine vnskilde,

in being whole is broke : In health is hurte, aliue is kilde,

by dinte of dolors ftroke. And being mine, is ftolne,

and led by lyking luft : Doth leaue the wave of certaine ftay,

and leane to tickle truft. Thou fayft I doe not loue,

would God thou didft not lye : Such fond affe&s may nothing moue,

fuch one thou fayft as I. The Sages fure were wife,

yet forced now and then : By flaming flames of CVPIDS fyre,

to fhewe themfelues like men.

H.iiij. Dame

flelightfull Difcourfes

Dame Natures force will fhewe,

what fo therfore befall : Tis fure my fimple ftate fo lowe,

thou doft miflike with all. My thoughts doe mounte on hie,

though Fortune feeme but bafe : Whofe yeelding walles before thee lye,

to reare or downe to rafe.

wge of Country, Jh all not chaungefancie.

TO fyfte my fate in forrein foyle, a time though I depart : Yet diftaunce none, ne tyme, nor toyle

mail pluck from thee my hart. But as I earft vnfaynedly,

haue vowde me wholy thyne : So will I ftande afTuredly, howe ere the worlde enclyne.

Tf Where abilitiefayleth, <uoyll fuffyceth.

IF knowledge mine could compafle wylling will, To founde her fame, fo well as deedes deferue : Or if in Verfe by prayfe of Poets skill, I able were to wryte what I referue.

Then mould my pen put forth what now I holde, And to the worlde her vertues rare vnfolde.

But fithe in me fuch facred lore doth fayle, I leaue the fame to SOPHOS learned brayne :

As ft

tofundry purpqfes.

As one whofe bare and naked Mufe doth quayle,

To vndertake her glory to explayne.

Leaft lack of skill that might in me appeere,

Should clipfe the light which now doth fliine fo cleere.

A perfite Pearle it felfe doth fliewe fo well, That naught it needes a fbyle to blafe the fame : Her prayfe lykewife, the reft doth fo excell, That finer wittes will fpred her Noble name. What fhould I then vpon her feature ftande, Which fhewes it felfe Jyke funne againft the fande ?

Her curious fhape, who views and doth not prayfe, In Noble minde me fecond is to none : Not Fortune, but deferts, her fame doth rayfc, For Fortune bowes to Vertues loftie throne. Where loe me fetled fits, in feate fo bright, As HESPER cleere with gleames of glittering light.

^f Mans impietle^faynes falfe Deitte.

LUft long is faynde a God of loue to bee, Whofe peeuime power fome deeme is dangerous. A cunning Archer that could neuer fee, Set forth he is, with fhaftes right perillous. A wanton winged boy forfooth he is, And VENVS fonne, whom me doth clip and kifle.

Down from the Heauens he fhoots the flaming dartes, That Fancie quickly burnes with quenchlefle fyre : Bereauing Reafon quite in all her partes, Preferring wyll with doting fond defyre. Is this a God? no, no, a Diucll fure, To fylthie luft that doth the weake allure.

I.j. For

69

"Delight full Difcourfes

For Gods to Vertue, not to vices winne, Their powers prouoke to good and not to yll : Tis gainlt their kinde to fofter fylthie linne, Eche heauenly grace, doth heauenly giftes fulfyll. Then you that fayne DAN OPIDE is a God, Recante in tyme, leaft IOVE reach forth his rod.

^f/» louefmale tarres^fomettme breede bejl content.

WHat ftate more fweete, more pleafant or more hie, Then loues delight, where hartes doe ioyntly ioye ? If vyle fufpedt, feare and ielofie, With gawling grudge did not the fame annoy.

Yet where this fowre, with fweete fomedeale doth blende, Loues perfection oft it doth amende.

For thirft the water fauourie makes to feeme,

And after falling, meate is had in price :

He knowes not peace, nor can thereof efteeme,

That in the warres hath neuer broke the Ice. Hope is reuiude, and makes of forrowes paft, When feruice long doth reape rewarde at laft.

Diftaunce of Friends maye fuflFred be with eafe, When fafe returne exiles eche former feare : The farther of, the more doth meeting pleafe, Things hardly had, obtaynde, are holden deere. Defpayre not then, though eyes debarred bee, From that fayre light, the hart doth howerly fee.

7°

tofundry purpofes.

Nature feuer el h^ Arte hardly ioyneth.

IN fayth doth frozen IANVS double face, Such fauour finde, to match with pleafant Maye : May Horie HIFMS now fweete blifle imbrace, Where fertyle lune by flatte repulfe had nay. No furely no, though iealous heades mildeeme, A falfe vntroth to me the fame doth feeme.

For Froft with Fyre may neuer long agree, And Maye by courfe ought mayntaine VENVS right : When fliyuering IANVS doth denie we fee, The pleafmg fporte that May would moft delight. Then iealous flaunder fhut thy chaps for fhame, Depraue them not, whofe deedes are voyde of blame.

Since fprinkling fhowres of fweete AVRORAES fludde,

In HIEMS raigne are dryed vp with colde :

Whofe Syluer drops bedewes the blowming budde,

And makes the fertyle foyle her fruite vnfolde. Who can beleeue ? not I, I vowe in deede, That IANVS olde mould gaine fuch youthfull meede.

<wyfheth 'well to the Crahhe and Maple Tree In Milfeelde^for the Ladies fake that met there vnder them.

kHe cheerefull byrde that skips from tree to tree, By skilfull choyfe doth roouft and reft at night : Although by wing and will he may go free, Yet there he pearkes, where moft he takes delight. As Thrum in thorne, and golden Finch in Fearne, Great byrds in groues, the fmale in bufhie hedge : The Larke alowe, in loftie tree the Hearne, And fome in Fenne, doe fhrowde themfelues in fedge.

I.ij. So

71

"Ddightfull T)ifcourfes

So fome men boft in Bayes, whofe branch they beare, Some Hawthorne holde, as chiefe of their delight : Some wofull wights, the wrethed Willows weare, Some Rofes reach, and fome the Lyllies white. Some Plane tree praife, as great DARIVS fonne, Whofe oft recourfe thereto, doth wel exprefle, That vertues rife therin this Prince had wonne, To lyke the fame aboue the reft I gefle. The Oliander eke, whofe Rofelike floure, Fayre POLTXENE fo pafling well did pleafe : Some lift aloft, and fome the Pien pure, Yet trees I know that farre furmounteth thefe. Not for their daintie fruites, or odoures fweete, Ne yet for fumptuous fhewe that others yeelde : But for the Ladies fakes, which there did meete, I giue them prayfe as chiefeft in the fielde. O happy trees, O happy boughes, whofe fhade Ifhrouded hath fuch Noble vertuous wightes : By whom you were, and are a Mirror made, Who of your felues doe yeelde no great delightes. O fertyle ground, in yeelding wife that lends, Such caufes great of Ladies perfite ioyes, O bliflefull place fo fit for faithfull friends, In pleafures ryfe, to rid them from anoyes. What wonder may it be, to thofe fhall heare, In Maple hard, or crooked Crabbe tree fowre : Such fugred talke, fuch iefts, fuch ioyfull cheare, Such mylde affe&s, as if tVere CVPIDS bowre ? Nowe fith thefe Noble Nimphes ybreathed haue, Vpon thefe plants, in vttering forth their minde : If any feeke their fecrecie to craue, High IOVE I pray thefe trees may fhewe their kinde. Help SATYRS eke, you Gods that keepe the wood, The poyfoning breath of BOREAS rough refift : And thou whofe fyluer drops bedewes eche bud, Refrefhe thefe trees with fweete AVRORAES mift.

7* And

tofundry purpofes.

And IOVE if thou in Milfeelde fliew thy might, Conuert them foone, to fruites of more delight. That Maple may be Mulberie, And Crabbe tree eke a Medler be.

^f Being charged with finenefre^ he anfwereth thus.

NOt fine good Lady mine, but playne as playne may be : Your curious hed may finenefle frame,

it longeth not to me. My fymple meaning plaine,

not carued with mincing ftile : Vnfayned friendship feekes to mew,

deuoyde of frawde or guile. No GNATOS parte I play, ne like COREBVS crue : By glofmg words to feeke to painte,

or publime more than true. My cheefe delight to pleafe,

is all which Idefire : With nifing Nimphes I lift not deale,

whofe lookes aloft afpire. Plaine truthe aye yeelds fuch truft,

as needes no fined phrafe : And my delight hath lefle defire,

Dame bewties beames to blafe. Whofe heafts in harte I holde,

and will till time I die : Yet truth might truely match delight, with things that feeme more hie. "But needelefre here to tell^ What all men fees right well. Where nicenejfefne tsfled^ Doth vertuefpring and ff red. Letfinenejfe then beplafte^ Where finene/fe is embrafe. 73 Liij.

Delight full Difcourfes

THy countnance changde, though clokt in couert fort, Not all things well, long fince did make report. Though thou vnkinde, and twife vnkinde againe To me thy friend, wouldft not imparte thy paine. See yet at laft, how tyme the truth hath tolde, What thou wouldft not, loe time doth here vnfolde. No doubtfull drift whereon demurre dependes. So clofe is kept, that time not tries and endes. And art thou changde ? doth fanfie fo perfwade ? To heape thy harme, doe fecrete flames inuade ? Wilt thou from me fo hide thy caufe of pine ? Haft thou forgot, I reft ftill wholy thine ? Where is become thy manly minde, which late Could fo dehort thy friend, in fraile eftate ? May one fo well approou'd in PALLAS feelde, By view of fymple peece, feeme thus to yeelde. Shall Buflard blinde, thy conftant dealing daunt ? Arte thou fo fonde, with carren Kyte to haunt ? Or wilt thou ftoupe, and bend thy felfe to ferue, A thanklefle Trull, whofe deeds right naught deferue ? Whofe peeuifhe pride, defcries the Pecocks grace, Though me God wot, be farre more vile and bafe. Naught elfe but wante of wyt, makes pride prefume, The feete well viewd, downe fals the Pecocks plume. Whofe owne conceyte, fo dimmes her dazeled fight, That deeme me doth for day, the duskiflie night. To bafe me is for thee to lure and call, Though flie by lofty lookes would conquer all. Thy fbode to fine her fylthy gorge to fill, Of daintie pray to iudge, me hath no skill. By courfe of kinde, fhe doth for carren craue, Be rulde by me, her diet let her haue.

Doe 74-

tofundry purpofes.

Doe way the Kyte, that fo doth fcratch and fcowle, My Keeper kepe henceforth fome finer fbwle. For looke as veflel aye, yeelds certaine tafte Of licoure, fuch as fyrft therein was plafte. So dunghill byrdes, on dunghill ftill we finde, To fliewe the branch whence fyrft they came by kinde. Caft of therfore thy care and changed cheare, Call home thy hart, let woonted plight appeare.

Hoyfe vp thy fayles, and launch from wrackful fliore, Who runnes on rockes, oft brufed is full fore.

^fl follow ivhat fly cth from me.

IViewc the fertile tree, but fruite I none may get : Moft daintie foode I fee,

yet ftarue for wante of meate.

Where drinke ftands me before,

there greateft drougth I take : My thirft encreaft the more,

when moft I would it flake.

So hunger ftryues to feede,

when hap withholds repair., So thirft craues drinke with fpeede,

when thrall fayth ftay a caft.

Thus TANTALS toyle I trie,

againft the ftreame that rowe : As hope would heaue me hie,

difpaire doth finke me lowe.

Liiij. H" No

7T

Delightfull 'Difcourfes

grief e to tuante of due regarde.

WHere forrow funck in breaft, hath fokt vp euery ioye, What comfort there but cruel care, the fource of fharpe anoy ? Adieu delightfull dayes that wretch right well may fay, Whofe good endeuour made him dreame,till wakt wth cold decay. Adieu deluding hope, that lulde thee fo on fleepe, As fleepe thy fences fo bereaude, that waking yet doft fleepe. Sith all the fruite thou findft, for long imployed paine, (refraine. Falles out but brakes & brambles fharpe, how mayft thou teares When ruth is made rewarde, for fayth that fauour fought, What hart can choofe but pine away, in plaint & penfiue thought? And curfTe eche pradtife fUU, through drift of glofmg guiles, That dandled on true meaning minds, by frawde & hellifli wiles. To ferue their turnes tyll they, vnto the bones are worne, And then on fodaine {hake them off, in greater! neede forlorne. Moft like the wormes that feede vpon the kernels fweete, Forfaking huske when foode is fpente, to perifhe vnder feete. So they the hartes of men, doe gnawe in peeces fmale, When youth and coine are both confumde, then leaues them to their As fome by to much proofe, haue tryed all to true, (thrale.

Enforft to bid their golden time, fo fruitlefle fpent adiewe.

fO/ Anger.

APoyfon piercing to the death, A Traytor to the lyfe : A Foe to friendfhips conftancie,

a friend to deadly ftryfe. Armed agaynft good counfels force,

weake in aduerfitie : A fpoyler of fuch guiltlefle blood,

as is condemde by thee. A troubled wyt, a reaklefle hande,

a wrathfull hart to fpill :

tofundry purpq/es.

A partial! ludge, a iealous wyfe,

where anger hath her will. A waftefull purfle, a greedie Foe,

a faJfe fufpecSting thing : A tickle ftay, a prowde difgrace,

a cruel 1 Serpents fting. A whip to eafe, a rack to rule,

a furie to good reft. A black inferring Spring they faye,

that poyfons man and beaft. A haftie heate, a burning flame,

a wylde deuouring whelpe : A forcelefle winde, a furie fliort,

and laft a filly helpe.

*^A Nrwyeares

L T Ong may you lyue, and happy yeares enioye,

A I A Among your friends, to ftaye in bliffull ftate

D Deuoyde of Foes, fafe fhrowded from annoye.

I In all your workes : God graunt you happy fate,

K Kindle your care to compafle heauenly things :

P Prefle downe the worlde, let not his power preuayle.

E Efteeme him not, a Syrens fong he fings.

M Moft happy they, where moft his flatteries fayle.

B Beginne no adte, but fyrft forefee the ende :

R Reache forth your hande to helpe the needie ftill,

O Obferue fuch rules as may your ftate defende.

O Offence fbrbeare : feare euer to doe ill.

K Knowe God and feeke his holy hefts to holde,

E Example giue, to make the good more bolde.

77

T>elightfull Dtfcourfes

^Another.

L T Et wifedome welde your witte and all your wayes,

A I 4 Among the beft your credite twill enhaunce :

D Deteft eche Vice, by Vertue purchafe prayfe,

I In Noble moulde, a Noble minde aduaunce.

M March on with thofe gainft frayle defyres that fight,

A And gayne the Gole where glorye great doth dwell :

R Refift eche wrong, endeuour to doe right,

I Imbrace good will of fuch as wifhe you well.

S Sufpend to deeme the worft, what euer breede,

A And poyfe eche poynte before you verdit giue,

V Vntill you fyft the depth of doubts in deede,

I It skill ftiall fhewe to let the matter Hue.

L Laft beare in minde as courfe doth chaunge the yeare, £ Euen fo all Natures workes in time doe weare.

^Another.

L T Ay downe your Pens, that pen vnworthy prayfe,

A JLj Aduaunfing Dames which naught may claime by right

D Direct your courfe a Ladies fame to raife,

I In eche refped: that well deferues your light.

G GRACE is a gifte deuyne giuen from aboue,

C Cancell the fcrowles that others praife pretende :

A All writs are voyde that fubftance none doe proue,

V Vertue and blood, this Lady both commende.

E . Eche perfite good in her doth fyrmely reft,

N Noble by byrth, by Nature affable,

D Difpofed well, all ill me doth deteft,

I In euery adtion modeft and ftable.

S Set fhape afide, where Vertue hath no place,

H Here fhape and Vertue both are ioynde in GRACE.

78

tofundry purpofes.

T o T

H E L

A

D

I

S

P

E

K

E

^Another.

TYme and truft doth trie both weake and fure, O blifful hap that truft in time mave reache : The patients paine which ficknefle dotn procure, Hath health or ende, at laft to be his leache. Effects (alas) I fee doe fall out harde, Loft labor reapes the crop of lyngering griefe, And friendfhips force, through falfhoode is debarde. Defpite denies deferte to reache reliefe, I fee fome fmyle as they were gyrte with gladnefle, Stayde vp by hope, though drencht in deepe difpayre : Preferring fporte, but daunted downe with fadnefle. Enioying nought, yet faine to flye in th'ayre.

Kept farre from you (God graunt) all iuch annoye, Embrafte to be with them that lyue in ioye.

n Epitaph.

WHat hydes this hearfe but quiet filente refte, The fureft ende of his vncertayne time : Whome neyther fworde, nor fyre, nor age oppreft, But to his Ghoft gaue way, in hafte to cUme Aloft, loe here the iuftice of fuch fatall breath, To haue a God the author of his death ? Fayth and good nature, honor death and lyfe, The Noble harte procureth fauour mofte, Thefe markes, thefe flowres of his age are ryfe, Wherein both foule and flirine may iuftly bofte. Where his defyres lodge, the Gods can tell, Here lyeth the corfe that liued and died fo well.

79

Delightfull T>lfcourfes

Dreame.

TO clime the high and hauty hyll, Where Poets preace for praife by skyll, I lift no labour wafte : The water Nimphes I neuer vewde, Nor Ladies of the Lake perfewde,

That poore ACTEON chafte : King ARTHVRS Knights long fince are fled,

In force that did excell, And all thofe Ladies nowe lye dead, Whofe lyues olde Poets tell. Reuealing, their dealing, I purpofe not to wryte : But dreaming, a ftraunge thing Loe heere I doe recyte.

A fayre Pauillion finely pight, In fleepe appeared in my fight, Amidft whereof in greene and white,

The Goddefle fate of all delight, Befet about with Ladies true, Which did to her fuch feruice due, As fewe I deeme, the like hath feene, Idone to any earthly Queene.

Her Nimphes all they were,

Of fuch comely cheere,

HELENS face, may giue place,

Where they appeere.

THefe Ladies on this Goddefle bright, Attendance gaue both daye and night, To worke what ftie would will : Some fitting heere, fome Handing there, As for the tyme they placed were,

According 80

tofundry purpofes.

According to their skill : For VENVS then in Maieftie,

Me thought at Banket fate, Attended on moft curioufly, As beft befeemde her ftate, Some feruing, Some caruing. In Office as they ftoode, Some playinga Some finging, With glad and cheerefull moode.

That fure me thought in Heauen I was, To fee this fight it fo did pafle, But at the laft, this Banket paft, Of Suters then a Noble route There did appeare, with drooping cheare, Befeeching VENVS them to heare, Who flraight enclynde, with wylling mynde To peife the playntes that eche put out.

Wherewithall kneelde downe,

A wight of renowne,

Who cryde thus, O VENVS,

Let fate ceafe to frowne.

HAue pyttie on her painefull plight, Whofe lyfe is led without dellight, In fighes and forrows ftill: My youth faide me with age I wafte, For wealth my Parents me fo plafte,

God knoweth againft my will. With that another ftept in place,

And craude with wayling voyce, O Noble Goddefle of thv grace, Graunt me my wifhed choyce. Thus feefcing, Dame liking,

K.ii> They

81

'DeUghtfull Dtfcourfes

They call on VENVS hie : Still fuing, renewing, Their plaintes with watry eie.

Some out doe crie on ieloufie,

And fome of great vncourtefie,

With teares complaine, that finde difdaine

Where they haue loued faythfully. Another forte, doe eke reforte, Exclayming lowde on falfe reporte, Whereby their fame, and Noble name Without defert, oft brute doth blame.

And fome Ladies fay,

Their Lords runne aftray,

Whofe wanting, and fcanting

Oft works their decay.

AS thus in courfe eche made his plainte, I wofull wretch through loue attaints, In preafe my felfe did vaunte : And vnto VENVS as I thought, I hafted faft, and her befought, My Ladies loue to graunte. But out alas, euen therewithall A fodaine thundring noife : As heauen and earth mould faile and fall, My fprites from fleepe did raife. Then waking, hart aking, I languifht lay in wo, Bewayling, the fayling, Of wyftied purpofe fo.

And to my felfe loe thus I faide, What ftraunged fight hath me difmaide. May Vifions rare, or dreames declare. Such fodaine change from ioy to care.

From 81

tojundry purpofes.

From great delight, fuch moning cheare, May Goddefles abide to heare ? No, no, naught elfe but fanfie fure, My yeelding harte doth lead and lure.

Aye the wight to minde,

Where loue doth me binde,

Whofe feruaunt, attendant

The Gods me aflignde.

^Loue asketh loue.

ISawe of late a wofull wight, That wyllow twigges did winde to weare : Whofe face declarde the penfife plight, Which he through loue did prefent beare. He lookte aloft as though he would Haue clymed to the ftarry skies, But ftill he flood as though he could Not once lift vp his heauie thies. His feathered hands he forced forth, And thyther fayne he would haue fledde, But wofull man it was no worth, For all his limmes were lade with ledde.

You are the bright andftarrie skye^

I am the man in painefull plight :

My limmes are lade I cannot fly r,

My lyings may not fu flame my 'weight.

I reade howe loue did GISMOND wounde,

The childe of TANCRED SALERNE king :

Her fauour GVISTARDE conftante found e,

She fancied elfe no other thing,

For riches nought, nor for his wealth,

Whereof he had but little ftore,

His vertue was her onely health,

She likte that well, Ihe fought no more,

K.iiij. They

"Delight full Difcourfes

They had their hoped hap and ioye,

If TANCRED could contente him fo,

But he by working their annoye,

Vnto himfelfe brought greateft wo. You are that Gifmondfayre and bright ,• Would I had Gwfards vertuous life^ And Tancredchafl cleane out of fight ^ Then 'would I'wyjheforfuch a 'wife.

Some faye howe LVNA loued one,

Of lowe eftate and little fame,

By name yclipt ENDIMION,

Whofe loue was quite deuoyde of blame.

In LAEMI hill it thus befell,

She fawe him fit all fadde alone,

Tis I (quoth me) I knowe full well,

For whom he mournes and makes his mone.

She mamed not of LAEMI hill,

Nor yet of Louers fimple ftate,

But foone confentes vnto his will,

And him did choofe to be her mate.

O Luna looks vpon thy Louey

Endlmion makes his mone to thee :

Be not abajht^ letpittie moue,

That loue for loue may yeelden tee.

*§The variable thoughts of a Louer.

ILiue in hope and yet defpayre, Reioyfing moft when griefe doth growe : I mounte aloft aboue the ayre, Yet lead my life in LIMBO lowe.

I neuer feeke, though much I finde, Yet finde I nought and ftill doe feeke :

tofundry purpq/es.

I fee what beft contents my minde, When moft in minde I doe mifleeke.

One holdes me in captiuitie,

So fure that I ne once may fwerue :

Albeit 1 liue at libertie,

As free from bands that I deferue.

R. T.

THe fhyp that late I fawe beare loftie fayle, Deepe Janched in the waues of waters wilde : Whofe courage ftowte I deemde no ftorme might quayle, When I her viewde fo faft and fyrmely fielde. With tempeft toft, is forft now fayle to ftreeke, And in her prime doth houering harbour feeke.

T Hough ftreaming ftormes, force (hip to harbor hafte, To whom the Seas with rigor great threates wrack :

Whofe cables cut, and ankers worne to wafte,

Is forfte ftreeke fayle in her fo great a lack.

When NEPTVNE yet with Septer plafte in hande,

Shall calme the furious rigour of the Flood :

This Shyp repayrde, may fafely fayle to lande,

Nought dreading EOLVS breth,that herwithftood. So H. doth hope his Howlke fuch porte (hall finde, When ftormes be paft, as will content his minde.

If Another waye.

E,t none miflike a man for his miftiap, But thinke how chance doth check the greateft might : AENEAS he, VLISSES worthy wight, By lande and feas, did danger great entrap, None for deferts are lulde in Fortunes lap. Chaunce roules vs rounde, and reaks ne wrong nor right, Ne lewde is he on whom lewde luck doth light.

L.j. Was

Delightfull Difcourfes

Was not IOBE iuft, though fokte in forrowes fap.

They erre that deeme all goes as men deferue,

At length AENEAS ranne his weary race :

VLISSES eke and IOBE, God did preferue,

So I poore wretch whom Fortune doth difgrace, Do hope thylke God will guyde my crafed barge, Which beates the feas, whilft none of her takes charge. B.

Jfeth ryches.

THe flender ftore that verteous wights pofTefle, More worth then is the wickeds great excefTe. Yet ftrange to fee what toyle fome worldlings take, For ryches vaine, that foone will them forfake. Whofe greedie guttes, no reafon may fuffice, The muck on moulde fo blinded hath their eyes.

/V aunfwere to one that wrote^faynte hartes thatfeare to fynne^fayre Ladyes fyldome winne.

HE much more valiaunt is, whofe fteps are flow to finne : Then who fo feekes vnlawfull meanes,

his Ladies loue to winne. And greater prayfe deferues^

his will that can fubdue : Than thou which boldly brags, to gaine

the thing thou well mayft rue. A pleafure fhort thou feekft,

procuring lafting paine : A poyfon fweete thou doft imbrace,

that fundry wightes haue flame. A dore that lets in Death,

a fcourge that whips the foule :

86*

tojundry purpofes.

A vice that Vertue ouerthrowes, who doth it not controule.

A flame of burning fyre, that reaues all reafons rules :

A gulfeof foule defire, that oft makes wife men fooles.

f^ Ood wyll put forth my Pen in hafte, \J and made me bolde to craue : And Lone lay on me fore to feeke,

that I fuppofe you haue. Pleafure drew forth my doubtfull care,

and helde my hande aright : And Vfe tranfported like a guyde,

the vaine defyre I wright. Hope flattered fo thefe troubled thoughtes,

that comforte of the paine : Would force me to appofe thy pen,

with fanfies of the braine. Slowe of it felfe my little skill,

but that thy truth profeft : Will pardon bothe my light offence,

and graunt this poore requeft. To tell if ayre maye alter greefe,

or where like luck betide : Thy felfe, that vnder Country Hauens,

dofte feeke thy felfe to hide. And if loue bee, what thing it is,

if not, what moues my paine : Good NEDHAM wryte, or come in hafte,

and I mail wryte againe.

fH. To

U Difcourfes

«y H. To his mtfhap.

THe Gallic flaue that ftirres the fleeting Ore, In foming Seas, to cut the mounting waue : With heauie cheere doth wifh the gladfome fhore, In hope that ende his thraldom e then fhall haue. Or elfe doth hope amidft his pyning wo, That fhip will finke, and ende his trauell fo.

The fickly wight whom Feuers pinche full fore, With gafping breath, and panting hart in bed : And yeelds himfelfe content with Natures lore, Reuoltes againe, who was by hope mifled, If vitall breath yet chaunce to fayle him than, Nowpaft his paine, becomes a happy man.

An ende of woes thefe feelie folks obtayne, An ende of thrals at length by meanes they finde : Deuovde of cares, and I as wretch remayne, To whom aliue the Gods aboue aflignde.

That lyuing yet, a thoufande times Jhould dye, And long time dead, vnburied yet mould lye.

^Falfyfymg ofFayth, br cedes many complaynts.

MY idle head retaynes the bufie hope, My gafing eye giues ouer her defyre : My reaching hand would after fauor grope, My legs yeelde vp and leaue me in the my re.

Tis light t'outrunne, but not to outread the wife, Thus finde I ftrife to hinder my deuife.

The time too fhorte, to weare fo fpeedie greefe, I ftill purfue, that fhunnes my wylling holde :

Skill 88

tofundry purpqfes.

Skill is to weake to yeelde my woe releefe, My cares lyke clowds, infeft my hart with colde. So that if heat fhould melt fo cruell froft, My heart were drownde, and all the loue were loft.

Betweene two Adamants of equall weyght,

I am the peece of yron to beholde :

Wythout defert, loe I am made the baight,

Denide the ioy that my defyres wolde. My tafte of loue, is loft as you may gefle, That know how Sick men fauour bitternefTe.

Who would his will, muft beare the bitter lot, The Faucons foote diftraynth the Princes hande : When loue was made, his eyes were quite forgot, The higheft towers in greateft danger ftande.

O flipper holde, that for a filly eye,

Can finde no peace, but euer feekes to die.

Die, and doe all the wretched traine of loue, To know the torment of my boyling fmarte : Her might on me pore man fhe ment to prooue, Whom I had thought, fhould heale my wounded harte.

O cruell penance to my pore defyre,

In fuch great heat to bring me to the fyre.

^To kis Song^fent to hh Miftre/e.

SOng in the fweete place, Where as my Ladie was

walking.

Thinke if thou fhouldft ftande, She would reach out her hande,

wylling.

Touch not her tendernefle, Stoupe to her ftatelineffe, hie thee.

L.iij. Spirite

85,

Delightfull Difcourfes

Spirite without carkefle, MERCVRIE bodilefle,

ply thee.

Tell her I. will come, Knowing not howe foone,

fpeede well. Loue may no let haue, This is all I craue,

farewell.

THe ftreaming ftormes, that faft on me doe flowe, The fecrete fighes that wafte my wofull breaft : The Ifie colde I feele like flakes of Snowe, The hidden harmes that breede my great vnreaft. By Fancies force doe caufe fuch troublous tyde, That fhyp nowe makes, which late in roade did ryde.

WHere reafon rules, affections fonde doe flye, And bewties beames fmale bittirnefle may breede : Where wifdome will, by vertues skill doth tye, CVPIDOS flames are quenched forth with fpeede. Let reafon then thy will by wifedome guyde, So (halt thou fafely fliunne this ftormie tyde.

^The vanitie ofrytches.

THe ftately Pallace Princely plafte, the hoorde of glyttering Golde : The Patrimony large of landes, cannot from ficknefle holde. Nor can they cure the crafed corps,

or deck the minde at all : For who hath moft of fuch a ftore, the more he feares as thrall.

Golde

9°

tofundry purpofes.

Golde is the Father to the Flock,

of Flatterers by lotte: It is the fumme of griefe or woe,

who hath, or hath it not. For who it hath, he quakth in feare,

leaft Fortune robbe his thrifte : Who hath it not, laments becaufe,

he knowes not how to fhifte. Wherfore of ritch or poore I iudge,

as wifedome fmale I hente : In beft eftate is he, with his

that Hues with minde contente.

If Difcorde makes weake, what concorde leftflrong.

THe quyet pawfe that filente night, Doth bring from trauayles paft : Of daye no fooner had by fleight, A flumber on me caft.

But in my fleepe there did appeare, Sixe fauadge men in mode and haire.

A Fagot bounde the fbremoft wight, Me thought in hande did beare : Which ioyntly and alone through might, All fought to breake and teare,

Yet flill in vaine their ftrength they tryde,

Eche parte to other was fo tyde.

Till wrefting long, a ftick at laft, One forth by fleight doth wring, Whereby the Bundell knitte fo faft, A funder foone they fling.

Then eche a feuerde peece doth fpoyle,

Which late conioynde, no force could fbyle.

L.iiij. This

Qeltgfitfull Difcourfes

This done me feemde they vanifhte quite,

And there my Dreame did ende :

Yet fo amazed with the light,

That out a flghe I fende.

1 curft the frawde that friends defaft, Whofe broken bande eche harme doth haft.

The wrack of Realmes hereby is wrought,

The force of Foes increaft :

The fpoyle of famous Princes fought,

And right by wrong fuppreft.

Foule fall therefore the guyle of thofe, That friendfhips bande doe feeke to lofe.

And happy they that doe reflrame, Their eares to heare 'when Syrens fame.

e that came to borrow money.

IN loane what lofle, I want and would, Two Gods I bring to entreate for Golde, Perfwafion may procure the thing, That force would vndertake to bring.

^Aunpwere.

THe lofle of Friends by bringing home againe, Such Intereft I feeke not fo to gleane, Two Goddefles to match your Gods there be, Inopie and Impoflibilitie.

^Truthfeareth no try all.

^T^He Mufes calde a Courte of late, JL Wherein they deemde of fundry deedes : To fcan eche caufe in feate they fate, The fummond peere and law proceedes. The truth they fought of all mens harts, And deemde of eche by his defarts.

So

tofundry purpofes.

So fome were faude, and fome I fawe, Condemde to dye by luftice might : Among the which by courfe of lawe Approcht to barre a worthy wight, Whome feftred Enuy fought to fpoyle, By forged lyes his fayth to foyle.

Vpon whofe talke he was araynde, Holde vp thy hande quoth Doubt by name, Thou art accufed to haue ftaynde Thy credite, and thy fayth with ma me. And briefe to be, by verdite iufte, Condemde thou art for thine vntrufte.

To whom the Captiue gan reply, I graunt if this be prooued true : That I well worthy am to dye, And here I craue no more of you. But perfite triall of my cafe, (The guiltie onely pleads for grace.)

Quefte was then impanelde newe, id his accufers calde in fight :

Sufpition did the fute purfue, He was indited by Defpite.

The Mufes nowe with all the reft,

Made Confrience foreman of the queft.

Wherewith Sufpition fled for feare, Defpite durft not maintaine his fute, The caufe was calde, the captiue cleare, Thus did the laft, the fyrft confute.

And he that earft fhould needes haue dide,

No trefpafle made, when truth was tride.

Loe thus beholde,the guyltlefTe wight, Had Confcience not bene prefent tho :

M.j. Through

'Ddi&tfull Difcourfes

Through falfe report and deepe defpight, Condemde had beene to death to go.

By which you well may learne and fee,

The faultlefTe ofte condemned bee.

Let pittie therfore moue your minde, To ftay your doome till truth be tryde : So you by fearch fhall eafily finde, That I from truth did neuer flyde.

As tyme by triall fhall declare,

I aske no more, fo fpoyle or fpare.

^He complayneth his mifhap^ with promlfe to keepe her honor.

THe wandring Outlaw borne to woe, and bred a baniftit man : Vntaught the futtle Heights of loue,

of loue this tale began. When fyrft my fences dranke the fweete,

that gaue my body blood : I felt no Foe to let my loue,

nor God againft my good. Tyll lufte mifreckned my delightes,

my wandring ioyes to ende : And founde her out to ftay fuch toyes,

to ftande my trultie friende. I boaft the graunt if all were giuen,

it may, would God it might : O happie man, more happie mayde,

if all had hit aright. Mifhap withholdes no meane to hope,

to purchafe my pretence : Beautie me rauimt firft, and now

reuength without offence.

Thus

to fun dry purfofes.

Thus like a childe agayne, vntaught

the fleightes of dayntie mindes : Such nurture take I of my Nurfe,

as Nature iuftly bindes. Thefe fides enfhrine her ftately loue,

if other thoughts flie haue : She fhall poflcfle that I profefle,

and yet her honor faue.

f G. To bis L,adye.

I See in loue fome farther fetch there is, Than reafon can reueale to me that would : Accufe the caufe that makes me think amis, And finde the fault of fuch vntempred mould. Of fundry workes doe diuers wonders growe, Yet skill ftiewes why, and how they mould be fo. I fee the Sunne both moue, and melt, and chaunge, At once both dry and dew the duftie fande : Yet are the raging ftormes of loue fo ftraunge, As I forbeare the caufe to vnderftande. Except I mould impute it to the wurft, And curfe the kinde that neuer Louer durft.

I fee the ftarre that guydes my fUrring loue, The goodly Saint that facrifice deferues : Sometime I fayle, and finke for feare to prooue, And oft my folemne obfequies referue. Yet but for loue her paffing giftes deuine, Nature had neuer made them halfe fo fine.

I fee the fecrets of my wofull eyes, Muft feeke to reft on no fuch perfitnefle : Would they had kept her ftill aboue the skyes, Where firft me tooke alluring comlynefle, But fith her fhape no mortall man may craue, Yeelde honor fuch as fittes her beft to haue.

"Delightfull Difcourfes

^Forfmale offence, fmalepuntfhment.

MY Lady giues the reyne to her defpite, And lightly fhe beleeues what others fayne : With death fhe vowes my feruice to requite, And payes me not with like good will againe, So that me feekes to trufle vp my good will, With trufting thofe that euer ment me ill.

The murdring Knyfe for my ofFencelefle crime, I fee preparde to gore my guyltlefle blood : The cruell voyce of rough condemning rime, Hath fcapte her mouth, and maye not be withftood. Yet let her date my death with this one line, Here lyeth my Seruant bury ed in his Shrine.

If mercie fayle, there is no other charme, If that preuayle, vngracious luck farewell : My guiltlefle trefpafle mall efcape the harme, That enuyewifht on me to haue befell. Of my eftate, let her fay yea, or nay, I moft regarde her doome for to obay.

From heauen the grace of gentle minds defcends, And like the maker fhould the matter bee : Then let my Miftres when me wrath pretends, AfFe&s of mercie in the Gods forefee,

And when fhe graunts to follow them in that, Let her recure and pardon fhe knowes what.

tofundry purpqfes.

^Loues myghtmeffe gro'wes by Louers iveaknejje.

IF power of warre had yeelded to renowne, Of curteous hartes, the Gods had then agreede : Difgraded SATVRNE had not tumbled downe, Nor loue had durft in Goldlike Artes proceede. O cowardly Gods againft your kinde to fee, Your felues, your fonnes, the flaues of loue to bee.

Could loue take league with IOVE against his will, Or ftaine the ftreame of NEPTVNES water Springs : And could not PLVTO keepe his honor ftill, But giue the Heauens and Hilles to other kings ? In faith the face amongft fweete foules fhould dwell, That conquered thefe, in fpite of powers in Hell.

^A comparifon of his troubles.

GReat fwelling floodes are foone dried vp, with meaner calmes I fee : And mightie Froftes, with gentle heate

are woont diflblude to bee. The darkeft clowdes in th'ayre toft,

depart with no great winde : Yet can the tempeft of my care, no quyet harbor finde.

II. K. to H. being ficke.

THe fickly ftate, thou griped art withall, When brute had blowne and founded to mine eare : From eare to heart, the fodaine noyfe did fall, And there begins to change my choife of my cheare.

Miij. For

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Delightfull Difcourfes

For choyce is paft, needes muft I match with mone, When hope is crackt, what comfort may endure ? The beft parte eke of me, to greefe is gone. Scant then the partes befide, may well be fure, Yet feare not H. quayle not, be of good cheare, Thy Keeper bids thee haue a hardy harte : Be lyke a man, the weather will be cleare, If not for thee, yet caufe not me to fmarte. So being bolde in thine extremitie, Thou malt faue two, that is both thee and me.

THe plunged ftate wherein I reftlefle lay, When thefe thy lynes were brought before my view : A certaine tyme began to ceafe and ftay : And ftill mee thought my pinching paine withdrew, To heare from thee, fuch comfort did enfue, But when at laft, I learned had thy greefe, My comfort fledde, bereft was all releefe.

And then anewe my crafed corps in paine,

Lay languiiht long, not knowing what were beft,

A thoufand thoughts within my troubled braine

So mooude my minde, that vnneth could I reft,

The flypping ioyes that worldly wights pofleft. Loe then I fa we, full foone awaye did flide, And nothing was, that flill might ftande or bide.

No Forte fo ftrong, no Bulwarke rayfde fo fure,

But tyme confumes and tumbleth downe at laft :

Mannes force is frayle, and lyke the feeble flowre,

That bendes and breaks with euery little blaft,

His dangers great, his pleafures foone furpaft, As now by me appeares, whofe ioyes doe vade, Whofe griefe doth grow, whofe comfort glides to glade.

Whofe

tojundrypurpofes.

Whofe lyfe lyke fmoke, doth flylie flynck awaye, Whofe Rock is reelde, whofe fatall thread is fpunne, Whofe dreame doth ende, whofe flumbring fleepe doth ftaye, Whofe web is wouen, whofe Glafle is wclnie runne, Whofe parte is playde, whofe tale is tolde and done, Whofe will doth yeelde to leaue this wretched vale, Where naught is fure, but driry Death molt pale. fO/ 'Friend/hip.

WHo holds himfelfe moft deare, and hath his wante, Although he would, he may not ftore his friend : But he that feekes his fecrets there to plante, Where wealth is free, fliall finde a quyet ende. Giue me the pooreft man to triumph on, Or welthieft friend, or let me Hue alone.

^Aunfwere. G. H.

Glue me the equall friend, for greater ftate Will euer grudge the wante of lowe degree, And eke the meane repine at welthier mate, Thus enuy breakes what friendmip did decree.

By iufte agreeing porte no iarre doth grow. Where wealth ne wante denies the friei

denies the friendly mow.

ToM.

THe crafed Barke full oft is faued by Pylots care, The greateft griefes by pleafant ioyes afTwaged are. The daylie toyles by fome quiet reft are alwayes eafed, The vering fpirites by Mufike fweete, feeme fomewhat pleafed. My onely ioy regarde you this my wofull cafe, Sith none but your difdaine, my forrow can delace.

^Admonition to his Friend.

IF thou wilte be rightfull, Alwayes ftande thou faythfull. To doe well be carefull, Note friends and be thankfull.

Vaine

T>elightfull Difcourfes

Vaine talke flye and learne wit, Marke wife fpeeche and loue it. Alwayes praye, and boaft not, Efchue pride, and vaunte not. Hate no man, difdaine not, Take time and fleepe not. Eche vertue trayne iuftly, Regarde betters wifely. Offend no wight wrongly, And declare alwayes truely. So God fure will loue thee, And good men will praife thee. When Vertue mail grace thee, All fame mall embrace thee.

^Whofeekes this Worlds felicttie, Fyndes nothing elfe but vanitie.

WHo feekes on earth to finde, his Manfion fure to dwell, Forfakes his God, forgets his heauen, & hies him faft to hell. For why no flefli hath force, eternitie to finde, But as of Clay it came, to Clay it muft conuert by kinde. If Bewtie blynde thine eyes, or Coyne it be thou craue, Be fure therof they clogge thy foule, whe carcafTe comes to graue. Not ftrength, not honors ftage, nor Empire helde alone, But confcience cleere muft only ferue, before the heauenly throneQ Suppofe before thy Prince, thy onely tale furmounts, Tryumph not thou, for th'angels trumpe, calles thee to more acounts. More pleafure here thou takes, in toyes on earth below, More feeble thou, more force is theirs, to yeelde thine ouerthrow. No comfort doe conceaue, in vaine and tryflyng toyes, No minutes myrth can counteruayle, aye during deepe annoyes. On earth the force of flood, and flame thou doeft defyre To fhun, then chiefely feeke to auoyde, the force of endlefle fyre. On earth thou doeft defyre, delights that be but vayne, In heauen the whylft thou doft negle&e, the ioy y* mall remayne. Then dye on earth to Hue, and liue on earth to dye, Repofe thy truft in heauenly things, and ioy eternallye.

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tofundry purpofes.

Flatterer.

AS foundes from hollow things, doe nought but ayre implie : So words from faythlefle friends, fliewe nought but flatterie.

CAlme Seas leaft feared bee, more daunger when they fwell : Yet in all Tydes we fee,

they vfe to founde them well.

^f Reafon and Fan fie doe often varte.

WHere Fanfie bids vs runne, and Reafon ftaye, And prefle our powres, that frayltie nought preuayle :

Affe&ion blinde doth beare fo great a fwaye,

That we in greateft danger hoyfe vp fayle.

We burne our felues, and yet doe blowe the fyer, And truft the ayde that leaues vs in the myer.

Defyre aflayes with Fanfies winges to five,

When hap withholdes, to yeelde our will fuccefle :

Hope would aduaunce it felfe vnto the skye,

Defpayre fmkes downe, and fits in fad diftrefle. Defyre, difpayre, hope, hap, by fanfie preft, Thus ioyne their battayle in affe&ions breft.

Reafon refiftes, vayne hope, hopes Lead will fwymme,

Wyt would preuayle, afFedtion will not yeelde :

Defyre with Frayltie ventures lyfe and lymme,

Inforcing Reafon to forfake the fielde.

And thus with Fancies lore our reafon ledde, In Follies brake, we oft bring fbolcs to bedde.

Looke ere you leape, beware leaft footing fayle,

Example take by poore ACTEONS fall :

We thinke that pretie fanfie may preuayle,

And therfore liften to his luring call.

But when moft greedie Dogs doe vs deuour, Fancie ftands aloofe, not able to fuccour.

10 1 M.iij. A

Delightful! Vifcourfes

A little bewhing Curre doth oft procure,

Aflault of greater Dogs, as doth appeare,

So while we rafliely yeelde to Fanfies lure,

More eger Curres are readie vs to teare. Our owne defyre, afFedtion, luft, and will, Are thofe fame Dogs which doe their mayflers kill.

Yet neyther counfayle, wifedome, fence, nor arte, Can brydle youth from his defyred ioye : Graue precepts haue no power to ftaye his harte, From working of his owne extreme annoye :

And though our felues doe know fuch things are vayne, Yet doe we feeke the felfe fame things to gayne.

What madnefle thus to ftryue againft all fence ? To fue, where Reafon would we mould refrayne : Againft all counfayle thus to make pretence, And voyde of wifedome fo to beate our brayne, To buye repentance with fo deepe defyre, And with fuch heate to fet our thrift on fyre.

And yet no helpe, when Fanfie freightes our boate, But Follyes force, per force will hoyfe vp fayle : Till midft the waues of had I wift we floate, We thinke our pleafant courfe mould neuer fayle. Vnlefle Gods fpeciall grace doe make a ftay, Our nature weake thus works her owne decay.

SIth nothing ftayes in good or happy ftate, Where Vice aboundes and Vertue doth abate : Why doe we not our lyues with fpeede reforme ? That Confcience cleere may feele no gnawing worme.

tofundry purpofes.

^Certaine Verfes tranjlated out ofPetrark^ concerning Rome, 'written by him many year es Jince.

A Flame from Heauen ftreame downe vpon thy head Thou wicked one, that from the water colde, And Acornes wilde, (that whilom was thy bread) Arte mightie made, enrichte by others Golde. Since thy delight is fetled all on ill, Shame thee deftroy, and forrow foone thee fpill.

Thou Neft in whome the treafons hatched are, That through the worlde abroad are fpred this bower : Slaue to Wine, chambring and delicious fare, Where Luft doth trye the ftrength of all her power. In Clofets thine, yong gyrlcs and aged Siers, With BELZABVB doe daunce in foule deflers.

He Bellowes, Fyre, and looking Glafle doth bearc,

Amidft them all, but why I bluflie to tell :

Naked to wyndes, and bare foote late thou were,

No beddes of Downe vnto thy mare befell.

Courfe clothes did ferue thy corps from colde to fhrowdc, Scarce God thy peere, thou now art growne fo prowde.

Thou BABILON that buyldes thy Neaft fo hye, By courtous frawde thy fack to brimme doft fill, With Gods great wrath and vices out that flye : Whofe poyfning fmell a worlde of foules doe kill.

Gods to thy felfe thou makft, not IOVE nor PALLAS,

In VENVS and BACCHVS is all thy folace.

In fearching long, what fliould of thee enfue, My felfe with toyle I feeble brought and lowe : But at the length mee feemde a SOLDAN newe, I fawe preparde to worke thy ouerthrowe. That will ered: BALDACCO feat for thofe. Which (though not when I would) (hall thee depofe.

M.iiij. Thy

103

ll Difcourfes

Thy Idols on the grounde lhall fcattered lye, Thy Towers prowde to heauen that enimies bee : And Turrets all by fyre downe fhall flye, Then mall iuft foules the friends of vertue, fee The golden worlde anewe beginne to raigne, And auncient works fhew forth themfelues againe.

Thou forrowes fource, the fmke of many a one, Thou Schole and Temple whence all errors growe : Once ROME, but nowe that cruell BABILON, For whom the worlde in teares doth ouerflowe,

Exclayming on thy curfed wickednefle,

Bewrapped in the vayle of holynefle.

O Forge of falfe deceyte, prifon to yre, Where goodnefle dyeth, and euils all are bredde : To thofe that Hue, thou art a hellifli fyre, The ruine eke of many wretches deade.

A wonder ftraunge though fpared thou be yet, If Chrift in fine not treade thee vnder feete.

Thy ground was fyrft on humble pouertie, But nowe thy pride doth prefle thy Founders downe : Thou fhamelefle ftrumpet feeking fuffraintie, Where refts thy hope ? what in thy triple crowne ? In thy adulteries or bafe borne rytches Begotte in guile ? vaine are all fuch wytches.

Since CONST ANTINE may nowe returne no more, The mournefutl worlde that fighes thy ftate to fee : Confume and cut thee quick vnto the core, That all to long is forft to beare with thee. Of Rome the fall, here Petrark doth imfolde^ As view they rnay^ that lift the fame heholde.

Infatientia viftoria.

FINIS.

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