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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 

97 


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. 

100 


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. 

104 


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