Eglogs Epytaphes, and sonnets. Newly written by Barnaby Googe: 1563. 15. March.  
¶ Imprinted at London, by Thomas Colwell, for Raffe Newberry, dwelling in Fleet street a little above the Conduit in the late shop of Thomas Bartelet.   

¶ Alexander nevil.  
THe Mountains hie the blustering winds The floods: the Rocks withstand  
The City's strong, the Camnons' shot, & threatening Cheiftains hand.  
The Castles huge by long besiege, and dreadful battrye brook,  
Both fire, & flames, and thundryng● thumps and every deadly stroke,  
With fervent broiling furious rage, doth beat, and dryve to ground  
The long defenced walls by force, and thoroughly them confound.  
Right so thy Muse (Oh worthy Googe.) thy pleasant frain●d style.  
Discovered lies to momish Mouths Reproachful tongues and vile  
Diffaming minds. Regard them not. preas thou for higher praise.  
Submit thyself to persons grave, whose judgement right always  
By Reason ruled doth rightly judge, whom Fancies none can charm,  
Which in the most Inconstant brains, are chiefly wont to swarm.  
Whom no desire of filthy gain, whom lucre none can move  
From truth to stray. Such men esteam, Such such embrace and love.  
On such men stay thy tender years, such Patrons seek to choose.  
Which taught by Time, & practised Proof uprightest judgement use.  
But as for those Crabsnowted beasts those raging fiends of Hell.  
Whose vile, malicious, hateful minds, which boiling Rancour swell.  
Which puffed with Pride, inflamed with spite, & drowned in deep disdain:  
Like Momus monstrous brood outright even of a ielows brain  
With curious, canckard, carping mouths, most famous deeds diffame,  
Defacing those whose labours great, Deserve immortal name.  
Such crabfaced, cankered, carlish chuffs within whose hateful breasts,  
Such Malice bides, such Rancour broils, such endless Envy rests  
esteem thou not. No prejudice to th●e: nor yet oppressed,  
Thy famous wittings are by them. Thou livest and ever shalt.  
Not all the slandering tongues alive, may purchase blame or fault  
Unto to thy name (O worthy Goog●.) No time, no fiery flame  
Not all the furies fretting Force, Thy doings may diffame.  
Let them in broil of burning spite, continual Toil sustain  
Let them feel scourging Plags of mind Let ever during pain,  
Spread through their poisoned veins. Let Care with poise of deadly weight:  
Oppress their vile infected Hearts, with stinging Malice freight.  
Let them destroy them selves in Time. In Rancour let them boil.  
Let mortal hate, let pinching grief, let flaming torments broil,  
Within their grievous vexed breasts, for evermore to dwell  
Let them feel envies cursed force. (consuming Fiend of Hell.)  
Defy them all. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and squynteyd Monsters right  
They are. In fine leave Sow to swill and Chuff to cankered Spite.  
But thou proceed in virtuous deeds, and as thou haste begun,  
Go forward still to advance thy fame Lives Race half rightly run  
far easier 'tis for to obtain, the Type of true Renown.  
Like Labours have been recompensed with an immortal Crown.  
By this doth famous Chaucer live, by this a thousand moor  
Of later years. By this alone the old renowned Store  
Of Ancient Poets live. By this their Praise aloft doth mownt.  
Unto the Skies: and equal is with Stars above. Accownt  
Thyself then worthy of the like, if that thou dost proceed  
By famous deeds thy Fame to enhance and name abroad to spread.  
With Courage stout than through the thick'st thou needst not for to feare·  
Not he that saith, but he that doth, ought Glories Garland wear.  
Thus shalt thou still augment thy name, and win the high Renown,  
And present Praise, in present Life, and after Death a Crown  
Of Honour, that for ever lasts. immortal Fame in fine.  
To whose reward, thy faithful Friend doth wholly the resygne.  
¶ Finis.   


B. Googe.    

¶ To the right worshipful M. William Lovelace, Esquire, Reader of Gray's Inn: (Barnaby Googe) wisheth health.  
How loath I have been, being of long time earnestly required, to suffer these trifles of mine to come to light: It is not unknown to a great number of my familiar acquaintance. Who both daily & hourly moved me thereunto, and little of long time prevailed therein. For I both considered and weighed with myself, the grossness of my Style: which thus committed to the gazing show of every eye should forth with disclose the manifest folly of the Writer, and also I feared and mistrusted the disdainful minds of a number both scornful and carping Correctors, whose Heads are ever busied in tenanting judgements. Lest they should otherwise interpret my doings then in dead I meant them. These two so great mischiefs utterly dissuaded me from the following of my friends persuasions, and willed me rather to condemn than to continual darkness, whereby no Inconvenience could happen: than to endanger myself in giving them to light, to the disdainful doom of any offended mind. notwithstanding all the diligence that I could use in the Suppression thereof could not suffice for I myself being at that time out of the Realm, little fearing any such thing to happen. A very Friend of mine, bearing as it seemed better will to my doings than respecting the hazard of my name, committed them all together unpolyshed to the hands of the printer. In whose hands during his absence from the City, till his return of late they remained. At which time, he declared the matter wholly unto me: showing me, that being so far passed, & Paper provided for the Impression thereof: It could not without great hindrance of the poor Printer be now revoked. His sudden tale made me at the first, utterly amazed, and dou●ting a great while, what was best to be done: at the length agreeing both with Necessity and his Counsel, I said with martial. I●am edpo●●ras tu●●oresse domi. And calling to mind to whom I might chiefly commit the fruits of my smiling muse: suddenly was cast before my eyes the perfect view of your friendly mind (gentle Master Lovelace) Unto whom for the numbered heaps of sundry Friendships', accounting myself as bound, I have thought best to give them, (not doubting) but that they shallbe as well taken, as I do presently mean them.  
Desyry●●e 〈◊〉 herein, as all such as shall 〈◊〉 them especially to bear with the unpleasant form of my to hastily finished Dream, the greater part whereof with little advise I lately ended, because the beginning of it, as a senseless ●ead separated from the body was given with the rest to be printed. And thus desiring but for recompense the friendly receiving of my slender Gift, I end: wishing unto you good Master Lovelace in this life the happy enjoying of prosperous years: and hereafter the blessed estate of never ceasing joy.  
¶ Yours assuredly Barnaby Googe.   


Daphne's. Amintas.    

¶ L. Blundeston to the Reader.  
TO creep into thy favour (good Reader) with a long painted Preamble in praise of this Auctor, I account it as vain. The Son Beams gives light sufficient. To move thy Affection with fore promised pleasure in reading the voh●me, I think it as Bootless. Gold is of self force and virtue to draw the desire. But with flowers of Rhetoric first to delight thee, or with Pithy Reasons to win thy good will and friendly Report for this my attempt: if such tropes & signs were flowing in me to persuade well thy favour, or so much discretion wanting in the to necglecte my good meaning, I would either enforce myself to use a better kind of persuasion or else withdraw my good will from the Sentence of so carping and slender a judgement: but as I have felt no floods of the one, so likewise I see no Ebbs of the other, that if I wear no more barraygne of the first, then fearful of the last: I would be then no more sparing to hoard up my Treasure from thee: then I trust to find the thankful now in taking this Present from me, which not only to show my good will, (as my Preface discourseth more largely) by preserving the worthy Fame, and Memory of my dear friend M. Googe in his absence I have presumed more boldly to hazard the prynting hereof, though this may suffice to excuse well my enterprise, but also to stir up thy Pleasure and further thy profit by reading these his works, which here I have Puplyshed: openly unto thee. And so (being unstored myself) I seek to satesfie thy learned or willing desire with other men's travaeiles. But where the power faileth the will may suffice, the giver, not the gift is to be regarded: prefer Colonus radish root before the Courtier's barbed horse.  
Accept my goodwill and way not the value, so shalt thou bind me if power (as it is unlikely, may answer hearafter my meaning, to gratify thee with the whole fruits of mine own endeavour and so shalt thou encourage others to make the partaker of the like or far greater jewels who yet doubting thy unthankful receit niggardly keep them to their own use & private commodity. where as being assured of the contrary by thy friendly report of other men's travails, they could perhaps be easily entreated more freely to lend them abroad to thy greater avail and furtherraunce. Thus therefore to thy good or evil taking I put forth this pattern for others to follow in weightyer matters or else to beware by other men's harms, in keeping their names unreproved by silence.  
¶ From my Chambre, the xxvii of may. 1562.   

¶ The Preface of L. Blundeston.  

Th● Senses dull of my appailed mus●  
Foreweryed with the travail of my brain  
●n stanning of the argued Books diffuse,  
And dark for me the glimmering sight ●o quyne,  
Deb●●●e ●t long what exercise to use,  
To file the edgeles parts of Wit again  
To cleanse the ●●eade from sleapy humours slime.  
To rouse the Hart from drowsy Dreams intime   

The mind desires to break from thoughtful den  
And time requires the painted fields to view.  
The Eye procures to please the Fancy then  
With f●e●dish sights of divers colours new.  
The smelling likes the savour sweet of them.  
The Ear agrees the pleasant lay anew  
Of Birds to here. Thus these do all contrive,  
With this disport the Spirits to revive.   

But Fancy then, by search of self denyse,  
Renouncing thus to spend the pleasant may  
So vainly out with sport of fruitless Price  
Found out at length, this practise for thy play,  
To pen in Verse, the toy●s of her de●is●,  
To pass this time of Pentecoste away  
Whose idle days she w●ld u●e thus to spend?  
And publish forth her doings in the end.   

Quod Reason no, (and broke her tale begun,  
Wilt thou presume, like baiard blind to press,  
Into the throng, of all the lookers on  
Whose viewing eyes, will weigh thy wisdom ●esse.  
To see the thread of all thy work●s ill spon  
Drawn out at length, unto the common g●sse,  
Then i● thou shouldst keep to thyself thy clue  
Where none thy works besides thyself may view   

With this rose up, from out her Seat behind,  
Dame Memory, and Reason thus besought.  
Since Lady chief of us thou art assygnde  
To rule and temper all my secret thought  
And to restrane affections Fancy blind,  
Let me entreat if I may pierce the aught,  
For to present a Solace very fit  
Our Senses dull with changed Muse to whet.   

Lo here the Eye a Paper buntche doth see  
Of fyled work of Googes flowing Head,  
Left here behind, when hence he passed from me,  
In all the storms that Winter blasts bespread  
Through swelling Seas & lofty mountains high  
Of Pyrenet the paths unknown to tread.  
Whose great good will I keep, and in his plate  
His Verses crave to represent his face.   

unfold the truss therefore and if the Muse  
Be sotted so with this grave Study passed  
In so short space, or if we seek to choose  
To print our acts in safety at the last  
Cease of a while this Labour and peruse  
These Papers left of such delighting taste  
And put in print these works of worthy Skill  
So shall we show the fruits, of our good will.   

This Fancy lykte, imagining aright  
Of her own joy in hearing of his Verse  
And pleasant Style, most pythyly endyght  
whose Fame forth blown, his deeds could well rehearse  
But for to paint my name in open sight  
with others Stuff, this would she fain reverse,  
And thinks I should in others Plumes so show  
Myself, to be a second Esop's Crow.   

But after when the Eye had viewed trhe line.  
That Googe had penned and left behind with me,  
when Memory could all the e●fect refygne,  
To Reason's Skill. to weigh them as they lie.  
with long rehearse of tried Faith by time  
Then Fancy soon her Pride, began to ply  
And all received much pleasure to the Mind  
More profit far then fancy had assygnde.   

And Fancy thus herself with blushing face,  
Condemned by Dame Reason's doom divine  
To see thalluring Style the comely grace,  
The sappye Sense of this his passing Rhyme,  
So far surmounting her Invention base,  
And hearing of his friendliness in sign  
which Memory her Storehouse held full fast●  
Allowed well their judgements at the last.   

Since every Sense did wont strength reune,  
The Blood congeld, recoursed to his place  
The wits benomd brought to their proper qwe  
The heart oppressed with old delighting grace,  
Vnburdend now and puffed with pleasure new  
By taking of this Book the viewing gaze  
They all at onhis Good will now called dyon,  
To wrest herself to quyght these works add on.   

Thus pushte I forth straight to the Printet● hand  
These Eglogs, Sovets, Epytaphes of men  
Unto the Readers Eyes for to be skande,  
with Praises such as is due unto them  
who absent now their Master may commend,  
And feed his Fame what soever faileth him,  
give Googe therefore his own deserved Fame,  
Give Blundeston leave to wish well to his nam●●   
¶ Finis.   

Egloga prima.  
Daphne's. Amintas.  
Sith Phoebus now gins to flame,  
O friend Amintas dear:  
And placed hath his gorgeous globe in midst of all the Sphere  
And from that place doth cast his Beams; where (they that fratres define)  
Lies point (do say) that termed is, right Equinoctial line.  
whereas the Rain doth cause to spring, each herb and flower in field  
A●d forceth ground (that spoiled of green Old lie,) new green to yield.  
Let shepherds us yield also tales, as best becomes the time:  
Such tales as Winter storms have stayed in country Phets' Rhyme.  
Begin to sing Amintas thou, for why? thy wit is best:  
And many a laged saw lies hid within thine aged breast.  
Oft have I heard, of shepherds old, thy fame reported true,  
No Herdman lives: but knows the praise, to old Amintas due:  
B●gyn therefore, and I give care, for talk doth me delight,  
Go Boy: go drive the Beasts to feed while he his mind resyght.  

Amin.  Thy praises Da●●nes are to great, and more for me than meet:  
Nor ever I, such saged saws, could sing in Verses sweet.  
And now, to talk of spring time tales my hears to hoar, do grow  
Such tales as these, I told in, time, when youthful years did flow.  
But since, I can not the deny, thy Father's love doth bind:  
In simple Song I will address myself, to show my mind.  
Long hast thou Daphne's me required the state of Love to tell,  
For in my youth, I knew the force, and passions all, full well.  
Now Love therefore I will define and what it is declare,  
which way poor souls it doth entrap and how it them doth snare.  
My Boy, remove my beasts from hens and drive them farther down,  
Upon the Hills, let them go feed, that join to yonder town,  
O Cupyde king of fiery Love, aid thou my singing Verse,  
And teach me hear the cause & case, Of Lovers to rehearse,  
Direct my tongue, in troth to tread, with Fury fill my brain,  
That I may able be to tell, the cause of lovers pain.  
Opinions divers could I show, but chiefest of them all,  
I will declare: and for the rest, with silence leave I shall.  
A servant Humour, (some do judge) within the Head doth lie,  
Which issuing forth with poisoned beams doth rou from eye to eye:  
And taking place abroad in heads, a while doth firmly rest:  
Till Frenzy framed in Fancy fond▪ descends from head, to breast.  

Plato.  And poison strong, from eyes outdrawn do●h pierce the wretched heart,  
And all infects the blood about, and boils in every part:  
Thus: when the beams, infected hath, the woeful lovers blood:  
Then Senses all, do straight decay, oppressed with Furies flood.  
Then Liberty withdraws herself, and Bondage bears the sway,  
Affection blind then leads the heart, and Wit, is wownde away.  
O Daphn●s then, the pains appear, and torments all of hell.  
Then seeks, the silly wounded soul, the flames for to expel.  
But all to late, alas he strives, for Fancy bears the stroke  
And he, must toil (no help there is) in slavysshe servile yoke.  
His blood corrupted all within, doth boil in every vain,  
Than seeks he how to sew for salve that may redress his pain.  
And when the face, he doth behold by which he should have aid,  
And sees no help, them looks he long, a●d trembleth all afraid.  
And museth at the framed shape, that hath his life in hands:  
Now fast he flies, about the flames, now still amazed stands:  
Yet Hope relieves, his hurtful Heat and Will doth pain make light,  
And all the griefs, that then he feels doth Presence still requyght.  
But when the Light absented is, and Beams in heart remain,  
Then flames the Fire fresh again, and new begins his pain.  
Then long he looks, his loss to see, than sobs, and sighs abound,  
Then mourneth he, to miss the mark that erst to soon he found.  
Then shadeful places out he looks, and all alone he lives,  
Eryling joy, and mirth from him, himself to wailing gives,  
And still his mind thereon doth muse and still, thereof he prates,  
O Daphne's here I swear to thee, no grief to lovers state.  
If he but once behold the place, where he was wont to meet,  
The pleasant form that him inflamed, and joyful Countenance sweet.  
The place (a wondrous thing I tell) his grief augmenteth new,  
Yet still he seeks the place to se, that most he should eschew.  
If but the name rehearsed be, (a thing more strange to hear)  
Then Colour comes and goes in haste then quaketh he for fear,  
The very name, hath such a force, that it can dase the mind,  
And make the man amazed to stand, what force hath Love to bind?  
Affection none to this is like, it doth surmownt them all,  
Of grei●fes, the greatest grief no doubt is to be Venus' thrall,  
And therefore, Daphne's now beware, for thou art young, and free,  
Take head of viewing faces long, for loss of liberty,  
I shall not need (I think) to bid thee, to detest the Crime,  
Of wicked love, that jove did use, In  time, 
jupiter.   
For rather would I (those it be much) that thou shouldest seek the fire,  
Of lawful Love, that I have told, than burn with such desire,  
And thus an end, I wearied am, my wind is old, and faint,  
Such matters I, do leave to such, as finer far can paint,  
Fetch in the Goat: that goes astray, and drive him to the fold,  
My years be great I will be gone, for spryngtyme night's be cold.  

Daphne's  Great thanks to thee, for this thy tale Amintas here I give:  
But never can I make amends to the whilst I do live.  
Yet for thy pains (no recompense) a small reward have here.  
A whistle framed long ago, wherewith my father dear  
His joyful beasts, was wont to keep. No Pipe for tune so sweet  
Might shepherd ever yet poises. (a thing for the full meet.)  
Finis Eglogae primoe.   

Egloga secunda.  
Dametas.  
MY beasts, go feed upon the plain, and let your herdman lie,  
Thou seest her mind, & fearest thou now, Dametas for to die?  
Why stayest thou thus? why dost thou stays thy life to long doth last:  
Account this flood, thy fatal grave, sith time of hope is paste.  
What meanest thou thus to linger on? thy life would fain depart,  
Alas: the wound doth fester still, of cursed Cupid's dart.  
No salve but this, can help thy sore, no thing can move her mind  
She hath decreed, that thou shalt die, no help there is to find.  
Now sith there is, no other help, nor ought but this to try●,  
Thou seest her mind: why fearste thou than? Dametas for to die.  
Long hast thou served, & served true, but all alas, in vain,  
For she thy service, nought esteems, but deals the grief for gain.  
For thy good will, (a gay reward) Disdain, for Love she gives,  
Thou lovest her while thy life doth last, she hates thee, wile she lives.  
Thou flamste, when as thou seest her face with Heat of high desire,  
She flames again, but how? (alas) with deep disdainful Ite.  
The greatest pleasure is to thee, to see her void of pain,  
The greatest grief to her again, to see thy Health remain.  
Thou covetste ever her to find, she seeks from the to fly,  
Thou seest her mind, why fearest thou than? Dametas for to die?  
Dost thou account it best to keep, thy life in sorrows still?  
Or thynkste thou best it now to live, Contrary to her will?  
Thynkste thou thy life for to retain? when she is not content,  
Canst thou addict: thyself to live? and she to murder bend.  
Dost thou intend again, to sew for mercy at her hands?  
As soon thou mayst go plough the rocks, and reap upon the Sands.  
Draw near O mighty Herd of beasts sith no man else is buy,  
Your Herdman long that hath you kept, Dametas now must die.  
Resolve your Brutisshe eyes to tears and all together cry,  
Bewail the woeful end of Love, Dametas now must die.  
My pleasant Songs, now shall you here no more on Mountains high,  
I leave you all, I must be gone. Dametas now must die:  
To Titirus I you resyne, in Pasture good to lie,  
For Titirus shall keep you though, Dametas now must die.  
O cursed Cause, that hath me slain, My troth alas to try,  
O Shephardes all, be witnesses, Dametas here doth die.  
Finis Eglogae secundoe.   

Egloga tertia.  
Menalcas. Coridon.  
A Pleasant wether Coridon, and lytte to keep the field,  
This moon hath brought▪ hearst thou the birds what joyful tunes they yield,  
Lo: how the lusty lambs do course, whom spring time heat doth prick  
Behold again, the aged Yewes, with bouncinge leaps do kick,  
amongst them all, what ails thy ramme, to halt so much behind,  
Some sore mischance, hath him be ●aln or else some grief of mind,  
For wont he was, of stomach stout and courage high to be,  
And looked proud, amongst the flock, and none so stout as he.  

Cor.  A great mishap, and grief of mind, is him be fallen of late,  
Which causeth him, against his will, to lose his old estate.  
A lusty flock hath Titirus, that him Dametas gave,  
Dametas he, that Martyr died, whose soul the heaves have,  
And in this flock, full many Yewes of pleasant form do go,  
with them a mighty Ramme doth run, that works all Wooers woe.  
My Ramme, when he the pleasant dames had viewed round about,  
Chose ground of battle, with his foe and thought to fight it out.  
But all to weak, (alas) he was, although his heart was good,  
For when his enemy him espied, he ran with cruel mood.  
And with his crooked weapon smote, him sore upon the side,  
A blow of force, that stayed not there but to the legs did glide.  
And almost laamd the wooer quite. (such haps in love there be:)  
This is the cause, of all his grief and wailing that you see.  

Men.  Well Coridon let him go halt, and let us both go lie,  
In yonder bush of juniper, the Beasts shall feed hereby.  
A pleasant place here is to talk: good Coridon begin,  
And let us know the towns estate, that thou remainest in.  

Cor.  The towns estate? Menalcas oh thou mak'st my heart to groan,  
For Vice hath every place possess, and Virtue thence is flown.  
Pride bears herself, as Goddess chief and boasts above the sky,  
And Lowliness an abject lies, with Gentleness her buy,  
Wit is not joined with simpleness, as she was wont to be,  
But seeks the aid of Arrogance, and crafty policy.  
nobility begins to fade, and Carters up do spring,  
Than which, no greater plague can hap, nor more pernicious thing.  
Menalcas I have known myself, within this thirty year,  
Of Lords and Ancient Gentlemen a hundredth dwelling there,  
Of whom we shepherds had relief such Gentleness of mind,  
Was placed in their noble Hearts, as none is now to find.  
But Hawtynes and proud Disdain hath now the chief Estate,  
For sir john Straw, & sir john Cur, will not degenerate.  
And yet, they dare account themselves to be of Noble blood.  
But fish bred up, in dirty Pools, will ever stink of mud.  
I promise the Menalcas here, I would not them envy.  
If any spot of Gentleness, in them I might espy.  
For if their Nature's gentle be, though birth be never so base,  
Of Gentlemen (for meet it is) they ought have name and place:  
But when by birth, they base are bred, and churlisshe heart retain,  
Though place of gentlem●n they have yet churls they do remain.  
A proverb old, hath oft been hard● and now full true is tried:  
An Ape, will ever be an Ape, though purple garments hide.  
For seldom, will the mastye course, the Hare or else the Dear:  
But still, according to his kind. will hold, the hog by there.  
Unfit are dunghill knights to serve the town, with Spear in field:  
Nor strange it seems, (a sudden Chop) to leap from whip, to shield.  
The chiefest man, in all our town, that bears the greatest sway,  
Is Coridon no kin to me, a Neteherd tother day  
This Coridon come from the Cart, In honour chief doth sit,  
And governs us: because he hath, a Crabbed, Clownish wit.  
Now see the churlish Cruelty, that in his heart remains.  
The silly shape the shepherds good, have fostered up with Pains,  
And brought away, from stinking dales on pleasant Hills to feed:  
O Cruel Clownish Coridon, O cursed Carlish seed:  
The simple Sheep, constrained he, their Pasture sweet to leave,  
And to their old corrupted Grass. enforceth them to cleave.  
Such Sheep, as would not them obey but in their Pasture bide.  
with (cruel flames,) they did consume and vex on every side.  
And with the sheep, the Shephardes' good, (O hateful Hounds of Hell,)  
They did torment. and drive them out, in Places far to dwell.  
There died Daphne's for his Sheep, the chiefest of them all.  
And fair Alexis flamed in Fire, who never perish shall.  
O shepherds wail, for Daphne's death, Alexis hap lament,  
And curs the force of cruel hearts, that them to death have sent.  
I, since I saw such sinful sights, did never like the Town,  
But thought it best to take my sheep, and dwell upon the down.  
Whereas I live, a pleasant life, and free from cruel hands,  
I would not leave, the pleasant field for all the Townysh Lands.  
For sith that Pride, is placed thus, and Vice set up so high:  
And Cruelty doth rage so sore, and men live all awry:  
Thynkste thou? that God, will long forbear, his scourge, and plague to send?  
To such as him do still despise and never seek to mend?  
Let them be sure he will revenge. when they think least upon.  
But look a stormy shower doth rise, which will fall hear anon.  
Menalcas best we now depart, my Cottage us shall keep,  
For there is room for thee, and me, and eke for all our sheep:  
Some Chestnuts have I there in store with Cheese and pleasant whey,  
God sends me victuals for my need, and I sing Care away.  
¶ Finis Egloge tertie.   

Egloga quarta.  
Melibeus Palemon.  
O God, that guides the golden Globe, where shining shapes do dwell  
O thou the throwest the thunder thumps from Heavens high, to Hell,  
what wonders works thy worthiness what marvels dost thou frame?  
What secret sights be Subject seen unto thy holy name?  
A simple shepherd slain of late, by foolish force of Love,  
That had not Grace such fancies fond and Flames for to remove,  
Appeared late, before mine eyes, (Alas I fear to speak,)  
Not as he here was wont to live, while grief him none did break.  
But all in Black, he clothed came an ugly sight to see:  
As they that for their due Deserts. with Pains tormented be,  
My sheep for fear amazed ran, and fled from Hill to Dale,  
And I alone remained there, with countenance wan and pale.  
O Lord (quoth I,) what means this thing is this Alexis spright?  
Or is it Daphne's soul that shows? to me this dreadful sight.  
Or comes some Fiend of Hell abroad? with fear men to torment?  
Megaera this? or tisiphon? Or is Allecto sent?  
what soever thou art, that thus dost come! ghost, Hag, or Fende of Hell:  
I the command by him that lives, thy name and case to tell.  
With this, a stinking smoke I saw, from out his mouth to fly,  
And with that same, his voice did sound. None of them all am I  
But on's thy friend (O oldibe●) Dametas was my name,  
Dametas I, that slew myself, by force of foolish flame.  
Dametas I, that doting died, In fire of unkind Love:  
Dametas I, whom Deiop●y, did cause such end to prove,  
The same Dametas here I come, by lyceus unto thee:  
For to declare the woeful state, that happens now to me.  
(O Melibe●) take heed of Love, of me Example take,  
That slew myself, and live in Hell, for Deiopeias' sake.  
I thought that Death should me release from pains and doleful woe,  
But now (alas) the troth is tried, I find it nothing so,  
For look what pain & grief I felt when I lived hear afore:  
With those I now tormented an't, and with ten thousand more.  
I mean not that I burn in love, such foolish toys begun,  
But griefs in number have I like and many more upon.  
O cursed Love, (what should I say,) that brought me first to pain,  
Well, might I once despise thy lore, but now (alas) in vain.  
With fond Affection, I did flame, which now I most repent,  
But all to late (alas) I wail, sith hope of Grace is spent.  
The fickle fading form, and face, that one's so much I fowght,  
Hath made me lose the Skies above, and me to Hell hath brought.  
Why had I Reason dealt to me? and could not Reason use.  
Why gave I, Bridle to my will? when I might well refuse.  
A wicked Will, in deed it was, that blinded so my sight,  
That made me on such fading Dust, to set my whole Delight.  
A fond Affection lead me then, When I for God did place,  
A Creature, cause of all my Care, a flesh ye fleting face,  
A woman Wave of Wretchedness, a Pattern pylde of Pride,  
A Mate of Mischief and Distress, for whom (a Fool) I died.  
Thus while he spoke, I saw me thought of Hell an ugly Fende,  
With loathsome Claws, him for to close and forced him there to end.  
And with this same, (O M●l●bey,) farewell, farewell (quoth he.)  
Eschew the Blaze of fervent flames, Example take of me.  
My Heart with this began to rend, and all amazed I stood.  
O lord (quoth I) what flames be these what Rage, what Furies wood?  
Doth Love procure, to wretched men what Bondage doth it bring?  
Pain here: & Pain in life to come. (O doleful, dreadful thing.)  
I quake to hear, this Story told, and Melibei I faint,  
For sure I thought Dametas had, been placed like a saint.  
I thought that cruel Charon's Boat, had missed of him her freight,  
And through his death, he mounted had to stars and Heavens straight.  
How valiantly did he despise, his life in Bondage led?  
And seeking Death with courage high, from Love and Lady fled.  
And is he thus rewarded now? The ground be cursed than,  
That fosterde up, so fair a face that lost so good a man..  
¶ Finis Egloge quart.   

Egloga quinta.  
Mopsus. Agon.  
Some doleful thing there is at hand thy countenance doth declare,  
Thy face good Agon void of blood thine eyes amazed stare:  
I see thy tears, how they do still, disclose thy secret mind,  
Hath Fortune frowned late on thee? Hath Cupid been unkind.  
A piteous thing to be bewailed a desperate Act of Love, 
Agon.   
(O Destinies) such cruel broils, How have you power to move?  
Here lived a Lady fair of late, that Claudia men did call:  
Of goodly form, yea such a one, as far surmounted all.  
The stately Dames, that in this Court, to show themselves do lie,  
There was not one in all the Crew: that could come Claudia nigh.  
A worthy Knight did love her long, and for her sake did feel,  
The pangs of love. that happen still by frowning Fortune's wheal,  
He had a Page, Valeri●● named, whom so much he did trust,  
That all the secrets of his heart, to him declare he must.  
And made him all the only means, to sue for his redress,  
And to entreat for grace to her, that caused his distress.  
She when as first she saw his page was straight with him in Love,  
That nothing could Valeri●● far, from Claudias mind remove.  
By him was Faustus often hard, by him his suits took place,  
By him he often did aspire, to see his ladies face.  
This passed well, till at the length, Vale●●us sore did sew▪  
With many tears beseeching her, his masters grief to rue.  
And told her that if she would not release, his masters pain,  
He never would attempt her more, nor see her once again.  
She then with mased countenance there and tears the gushing fell,  
Astonied answered thus, lo now, alas I see to well.  
How long I have deceived been, by the Valerius hear,  
I never yet believed before, nor till this time did fear,  
That thou didst for thy Master li●e but only for my sake.  
And for my sight, I ever thought, thou didst thy travail take.  
But now I see the contrary, thou nothing carste for me,  
Since first thou knewst, the fiery flames that I have felt by the.  
O Lord how ill, thou dost requite that I for the have done,  
I curse the time, that friendship first, to show, I have begun.  
O lord I the beseech let me, in time revenged be:  
And let him know that he hath synd, in this misusing me.  
I can not think, but Fortune once, shall the reward for all,  
And vengeance due for thy deserts, in time shall on the fall.  
And tell thy master Faustus now, if he would have me live:  
That never more he sew to me, this answer last I give:  
And thou o Traitor vile, and enemy to my life,  
Absent thyself from out my sight, procure no greater strife,  
Since that these tears, had never force to move thy stoneye heart,  
Let never these my wearied eyes, see the no more. Depart.  
This said, in haste she hieth in, and there doth vengeance call,  
And struck herself, with cruel knife, and bloody down doth fall.  
This doleful chance, when Paustus heard lamenting loud he cries,  
And tears his hear and doth accuse, the unjust and cruel Skies.  
And in this raging mood away, he stealeth out alone,  
And gone he is: no man knows w●ere each man doth for him moon.  
Valerius when he doth perceive, his Master to be gone:  
He weeps & wails, in piteous plight and forth he runs anon.  
No Man knows where, he is become, some say the woods he took,  
Intending there to end his life, on no Man more to look:  
The Court laments, the Princess eke herself doth weep for woe,  
Lo, Faustus fled, and Claudia dead.  
Valerius vanished so.  
¶ Finis Egloge quinte.   

Egloga sexta.  
Felix. Faustus.  

Felix.  O Faustus, whom above the rest, of shepherds here that keep,  
Upon these holts, the number great of weighty fleeced sheep:  
I ever have esteemed: and counted eke, the chiefest Friend of all,  
What great mishap, what scourge of mind or grief hath the befall?  
That hath the brought in such a plight far from thy wont guise?  
What means this countenance all besprent with tears? these wretched eyes  
This mourning look, this Vesture sad this wreath of Wyllow tree,  
(Unhappy man) why dost thou weep what chance hath altered thee?  
Tell tell, me soon, I am thy friend, Disclose to me thy grief,  
Be not afraid, for friends do serve, to give their friends relief.  
The woeful cause of all my hurt, good Felix long ago, 
Faustus.   
Thou knewst full well: I need not now by words to double woe,  
Since that (alas) all hope is passed since grief, and I am one,  
And since the Lady of my life, (my fault) I have foregone,  
What wouldst thou have me do (oh friend?) to joy? in such distress?  
Nay pleasures quite I banish here, and yield to heaviness,  
Let griefs torment me evermore, let never Cares away.  
Let never Fortune turn her wheal to give me blissful day.  
Love hath me scourged: I am content lament not thou my state.  
Let spite on me take vengeance now let me be torn with hate.  
Let her enjoy, her happy life, a Flower of golden hew,  
That closeth when the Son doth set, and spreads with Phoebus' new. 
A marygold.   
Sith from my Garland now is fallen, this famous Flower sweet:  
Let Wyllows wind about my head, (a Wreath for Wretches meet)  

Felix.  Fie Faustus, let not Fancy fond, in the bear such a sway,  
Expel Affections from thy mind, and drive them quyght away.  
Embrace thine Ancient Liberty, let Bondage vile be fled:  
Let Reason rule, thy crazed Brain, place Wit, in follies stead.  
Since she is gone, what remedy? why shouldest thou so lament?  
Wilt thou destroy thyself with tears and she to pleasures bend?  
give ear to me, and I will show the remedies for Love  
That I have learned long ago: and in my youth did prove.  
Such remedies as soon shall quench the flames of Cupid's Fire,  
Such remedies as shall delay, the Rage of fond Desire.  
For Faustus if thou follow still, the blinded God to please,  
And wilt not seek, by Reason's Rule, to purchase thine own ease,  
Long canst thou not thy friends enjoy but bid them all farewell.  
And leave thy life, and give thy soul to deepest floods of Hell.  
Leave of therefore, betimes and let Affection bear no sway,  
And now at first the Fire quench before it further stray,  
Each thing is easily made to obey, while it is young and green,  
The tender twyg, that now doth bend at length refuseth clean.  
The fervent Fire, that flaming first, may little water drench,  
When as it hath obtained time, whole Rivers can not quench:  
Forsake the Town, (my Faustus dear) and dwell, upon this plain,  
And time shall heal, thy festering wound & Absence banish pain.  
Above all things fly Idleness, For this doth double strength,  
To lovers flams, & makes them rage, till all be lost at length,  
Here in thes fields, are pleasant things to occupy thy brain,  
Be hold: how spring revyues again, that winter late had slain,  
Behold: the pleasant hills adournd, with divers colours fair,  
give ear to Sulla's lusty songs, rejoicing in the air,  
What pleasure canst thou more desire, than here is for to see:  
Thy lusty yewes, with many a lamb, Lo: where they wait on thee,  
Think not upon that cursed face, that makes the thus her slave  
But well regard the pleasant life, that here thou seest me have,  
When I long time a go, did feel, the flames of Cupid's fire,  
These means Lo than I practised, to cure my fond desire.  
I first weighed with myself, How fond a thing it seamd,  
To let my heart lie there in chains, where I was nought esteamd.  
And how with flames I burnt for her, that passed nought for me,  
And how, these eyes increased my harms that first her face did see,  
With pensive heart full freight with thoughts, I fled from thence away,  
And though that Love bade turn my steps, yet would I never stay,  
But from that foul infective air, where first I took my sore,  
I hied in haste, and shunned the place, to see for ever more.  
Each letter that I had received from her, I cast away,  
And tokens all, I threw them down, to my no small dysmay.  
Then busied I myself in things that might me moste delight,  
And sought the chiefst mean I could, to help my wearied spright.  
Sometime I would behold the fyelds, and Hills that thou dost see,  
Sometime I would betray the Birds, that light on limed tree,  
Especially in Shepstare time, when thick in flocks they fly,  
One would I take, and to her Leg, a limed Line would tie,  
And where the flock flew thickest, there I would her cast away,  
She straight unto the rest would high, amongst her Mates to play.  
And pressing in the mydste of them, with Line and lime, and all,  
With cleaving wings, entangled fast they down together fall.  
Sometime I would the little Fish: with baited Hook beguile:  
Sometime the crafty Before I would, deceive for all his wile:  
Sometime the Wolf, I would pursue, sometime the foaming Boor:  
And when with labour all the day, my wearied Limbs were sore.  
Than rest & sleep I straightway sought no Dreams did me afraye:  
Tormented nought with care, I passed the lingering night away.  
And thus I clean forgot: in time, the doting Days I saw,  
And freed myself, to my great joy, from Yoke of lovers Law.  
More of this same, I will the tell, the next time here we meet,  
And stronger medicines will I give, to purge that venom sweet.  
Behold the Day is slipped away, and Stars do fast appear,  
Lo where Calicto Virgin once, doth shine in Skies so clear.  
Lo where old Ceph●us walks about, with twyning Serpent buy,  
We will no longer hear abide, But hence will homeward high.  
Finis Eglogae sextoe.   

Egloga septima.  
Silvanus. Sirenus. Seluagla.  
Sirenus' Shepherd good and thou, that hast ill luck in love,  
The cause of all my hurt by whom my suits could never prove.  
God never let that I should seek, to be revenged of thee,  
For when I might have been with case, yet would not suffer me.  
The Love that I Duerda bore, on the to show my Spite:  
On the in whom my Lady fair, had once her whole delight,  
If thy mishaps do not me grieve, my mischiefs never end,  
Think not sirenus that because, Diana was thy friend,  
I bear the worse will assure thyself so base my love never seemed  
That only I should favour her. but all that she estemde.  

Siren.  Thou either art silvanus' borne, Example for to give,  
To us that know not how, when Fortune frowns to live,  
Or else hath Nature placed in the so strong and stout a mind.  
Suffysing not, thine ills alone to bear, but means to find,  
That may the Griefs of others help, I see thou art so bend,  
That Fortune can the not amaze, for all her mysciefes meant,  
I promise the silvanus' hear, time plain in the doth show,  
How daily she discovers things, that erst did men not know.  
I can not bear the griefs I feal, my force is all to faint,  
I never could as thou canst stint, the tears of my complaint.  
Diana hath procured the pains, that I shall never end,  
When first she falst her troth to me, she killed a faithful friend.  
I marvel how she could so soon, put the out of her mind, 
Sylvan.   
I well remember since thou wents●e alone I did her find.  
In place that sorrow seemed to shape, where no man stood her nigh,  
But only (I unhappy wretch,) that herd her woeful cry,  
And this with tears aloud she said, O wretch in ill time borne.  
What chance hast thou? that thus thou hast Sirenus sweet forlorn.  
give over pleasures now, Let never joy the please,  
Seek all the cruel means thou canst that may thy heart disease.  
When thou dost him forget I wish, all mischiefs on the light,  
And after death, the fiends of Hell, torment thy living spright.  
What man would here believe? that she that thus could speak, 
Siren.   
In so short time as I have been away. would promise break.  
O steadfastness and Constancy, how seldom are you found:  
In women's hearts to have your seats, Or long abiding ground?  
Who look how much more earnest they, at first their hearts do set,  
So much more sooner ever more, where late they loved, forget:  
Full well could ever I believe, all women guilty of this:  
Save her alone, in whom I judge, never nature wrought amiss:  
But sins her marriage how she speeds Silvanus I pray the tell?  

Sylvan.  Some say she likes it very ill, and I believe it well:  
For Delius he that hath her now, although he wealthy be,  
Is but a lout and hath in him, no handsome quality:  
For as for all, such shynges wherein, we shepherds have delight,  
As in Quaiting, Leaping, Singing or to sound a bagpipe right:  
In all these things he is but an Ass, and nothing do he can,  
They say 'tis qualities but tush, Its riches makes a man:  
What woman is that y● cometh here, Silvanus canst thou tell? 
Siren.   
It's one hath sped as well in Love, as we, I know her well: 
Sylvan.   
She is one of fair Guerdas friends, who keeps her beasts below,  
Not far from hence by her thou mayst, Diana's State well know.  
She loved hear a shepherd called, Alanius long a go:  
Who favers one ysmenia now, the cause of all her woe:  
No place so fit for the as this, Lo hear Silvanus stands, 
Siluag.   
Who hath received like luck to thine at cruel Fortune's hands,  
This company beseems the well, Fair Shepherds both good dean,  
To the Seluagina eke of Hope, whom Love hath spoiled clean: 
silva.   
A thousand better days I wish, than thou hast had before,  

Seluag.  At length may better Fortune fall, For worse can not be more.  
To trust the feigned words of men, Lo, thus poor women's speeds,  

Sylvan.  And men do smart not through your words but your unconstant deeds.  
For you when earnestlyest you love, no thing can chance so light.  
But if a toy come in your Brain, your mind is altered quyght.  
If we but once, absent ourselves, the shortest time we may,  
So much unconstant is your minds Love soreth straight away,  
Example take Sire●us here, whom once Diana loved,  
As all we know, and look how soon her mind is now removed:  
No, no, there is not one of you, that constant can remain:  

Siluag.  You judge but of malicious heart, and of a jealous brain.  
All things you do yourselves esteem, and men must bear no blame.  
Of your dissembling naughty deeds, we women bear the shame.  
Fair damosel if you can perceive Silvanus' true doth say 
Siren.   
There is not one amongst you all, but doth from reason stray.  
What is the cause that women thus? in their unconstancy,  
Do cast a man from highest hap, to deepest misery?  
It's nothing else, I you assure, but that you know not well,  
What thing is love, & what you have, in hand you can not tell.  
Your simple wits are all to weak, Unfeigned love to know,  
And thereof doth forgetfulness, in you so shortly grow.  
Si●enus judge not so of us, our wits be not so base, 
S●luag.   
But that we know as well as you, what's what in every case.  
And women eke, there are enough that could if they were brought  
Teach men to live, & more to love, if love might well be taught,  
And for all this, yet do I think, no thing can worser be.  
Than women's state. it is the worst, I think of each degree.  
For if they show but gentle words you think for love they die.  
And if they speak not when you list, than straight you say, they are high.  
And that they are, disdainful Dames, and if they chance to talk.  
Than cownt you then for chatring Pies whose tongues must always walk.  
And if perhaps they do forbear, and Silence chance to keep,  
Than tush, she is not for company, she is but a simple sheep.  
And if they bear good will to one, them straight they are judged nought  
And if ill name to shun they leave, Unconstant they are thought.  
Who now can please these jealous heads, the fault is all in you,  
For women never would change their minds if men would still be true,  
To this, I well could answer you, but time doth bid me stay, 
Siren.   
And women must the last word have no man may say them nay.  
Pass over this, and let us here, what luck you have had in love,  
And show if ever love of man, your constant heart could move.  
No fitter place can be than this, here may you safely rest,  
Thus sitting here, declare at large, the secrets of your breast.  
Nay: longer hear we may not bide, but home we must away, 
Siluag.   
Lo how the Son denies his Beams depriving us of day.  
Finis Egloge septime.   

Egloga octava.  
Coridon. Cornix:  
NOw ragethe Titan fierce above his Beams on earth do beat.  
Whose hot reflection, makes us an over fervent heat:  
With fiery Dog, he forward flames feal hot Agues up he drives:  
And sends them down, with boiling blood to shorten Miser's lives.  
Lo, how the beasts, lies under trees how all thing seeks the shade,  
O blessed God, that some defence, for every hurt hast made,  
Behold this pleasant Brodeleaved Be●ch & springing fountain clear,  
Hear shade enough, here water could come Cornix rest we here,  
And let us songs begin to sing, our purse and hearts be light.  
We fear not we, the tumbling world we break no sleaps by night.  
Both place and time my Coridon exhorteth me to sing, 
Cornix:   
Not of the wretched lovers lives, but of the immortal king.  
Who gives us pasture for our beasts and blesseth our increase:  
By whom, while other cark and toil we live at home with ease.  
Who keeps us down, from climbing high where honour breeds debate,  
And here hath granted us to live in simple shepherds state,  
A life that sure doth fare exceed, each other kind of life:  
O happy state, that doth content, How far be we from strife?  
Of him therefore, me list to sing, and of no wanton toys,  
For him to love, and him to praise, surmounts all other joys.  
O shepherds leave Cupid's Camp, the end whereof is vile,  
Remove Dame Venus from your eyes and hearken here a while.  
A God there is, that guides the Globe, and framed the fickle Sphere,  
And placed hath, the Stars above, that we do gaze on here,  
By whom we live, (unthankful beasts) by whom we have our health,  
By whom we gain our happy states by whom we get our wealth.  
A God: that sends us that we need, a God: that us defends.  
A God: from whom the Angels high, on mortal men attends.  
A God: of such a Clemency, that who so him doth love  
Shall here be sure to rest a while, and always rest above.  
But we, for him do little care, His Hests we nought esteem,  
But hunt for things that he doth hate most pleasant those do seem,  
(Unthankful misers) what do we? what mean we thus to stray?  
From such a God, so merciful, to walk a worse way?  
May nought his benefits procure? may nought his mercies move?  
May nothing bind, but needs we must? give hate to him for love?  
O happy (ten times) is the man, (a Bird full rare to find)  
That loveth God with all his heart, and keeps his laws in mind.  
He shallbe blessed in all his works, and safe in every time,  
He shall sweet quietness enjoy, while other smart for Crime.  
The threatening chances of the world shall never him annoy,  
When Fortune frowns on foolish men he shallbe sure to joy.  
For why? the Angels of the Lord, shall him defend always,  
And set him free, at every harms, and hurts at all assays.  
Even he that kept the Prophet safe, from mouths of lions wild, 
David.   
And he that once preserved in Flags, the silly sucking Child, 
Moses.   

Elias.  The God that fed, by ravens Bill, the Teacher of his word,  
Shall ●ym (no doubt) in safety keep▪ from Famyn, Fire, and Sword.  
Not he, whom Poets old have feigned, to live in Heaven high,  

jupiter.  Embracing Boys: (O filthy thing) in beastly Lechery.  

juno.  Nor Iu●● she: (that wrinkled jade,) that Queen of Skies is called,  

Saturn.  Nor sullen Sat●●n churlish chuff▪ with Scalp of Cancre bald.  

Mars.  Nor fuming Fool, with fiery face, that moves the fyghters' mind.  

Venus.  
Cupido.  Nor Venus she: (that wanton wench) that guides the shooter blind.  
Can the defend: as God will do, for they were sinful fools,  

N●merus.  Whom first the blind high witted Grek● brought in to wise men's Schools.  
No none of these, but God alone, ou●ht worship for to ●aue,  
For they for all their Honour ones, rest ye tin stinking Grave.  
Hear hast thou heard, the happy state of them that live in fear,  
Of God▪ & love him best: now list, his foes reward to hear,  
And first know thou that every man, that from this God doth go,  
And follows lust, him he acountes, to be his deadly foe,  
This mighty King of whom we talk, as he is merciful,  
And suffers long, revenging slow, So when we be thus dull,  
That we will not perceive in time, the goodness of his grace,  
His favour strait, he doth withdraw and turns a way his face.  
And to himself then doth he say, How long shall I permit  
These stubborn beasts, for to rebel? and shall I love them yet,  
That hate me thus? or have I need their loving minds to crave?  
I ask no more but only love, and that I can not have.  
Well, well, I will not care for them, that thus do me despise,  
Let them go live, even as they list, I turn away mine eyes.  
When God hath thus said to himself, Then doth the brainless fool,  
Cast Bridle of, and out he runs, neglecting virtues School,  
Then doth the devil give him line, and let him run at large,  
And Pleasure makes his Mariner, to row in vices Barge,  
Then up the Sails of wilfulness, he hoyses hie in haste,  
And fond Affection blows him forth, a wind that Pluto placed,  
Then cuts he swift, the seas of sin, and through the Channel deep,  
With joyful mind, he fleets a pace, whom Pleasure brings a sleep,  
Than who so happy thinks himself? who dreams of joy but he?  
Tush, tush, saith he: to think of God, Inage sufficeth me,  
Now will I pass my pleasant youth, Such toys becomes this age,  
And God shall follow me saith he, I will not be his page,  
I will be proud, and look a fit, I will my body deck,  
With costly clothes, above my state who then dare give me cherke?  
Garments some time, so guard a knave, that he dare mate a Knight, 
Coridon.   
Yet have I seen a Ne● in hemp, For Checking often light.  
The Peacock's plume shall not me pass that nature finely framed 
Cornix.   
For coulord silks shall set me fourth, that nature shallbe shamed,  
My Sword shall get me valiant fame, I will be Mars out right,  
And Mars you know, must Venus have, to recreate his spright.  
I will oppress the simple knave, shall Saves be sawsy now?  
Nay: I will teach the needy Dogs, with Cap to crouch, & bow.  
Thus fareth he, and thus he lives, no whit esteeming God,  
In health, in joy, and lustynes, free from the smarting Rod,  
But in the miost of all his mirth, while he su●pecteth least,  
His happy chance, begins to change and else his fleeting feast,  
For d●ath (that old devouring Wolf) whom goo● men nothing fear,  
Comes sailing fast, t● Galley black, and when he spies him near.  
Doth board him straight, & grapels fast and than begy●s the fight.  
In riot leaps, as Captain chief, and from the Main mast right,  
He downward com●, and surfeit than, assaileth by and by,  
Then vile diseases forward shoves, with pains and grief thereby,  
Life stands aloft, and fighteth hard, but pleasure all aghast.  
Doth leave his ore, and out he flies then death approacheth fast.  
And gives the charge so sore, the needs must life begin to fly,  
Then farewell all. The wretched man with Caryen Corse doth lie,  
Whom Death himself flings over board, amid the Seas of sin,  
The place where late, he sweetly swum now lies he drowned in.  
continual torment him awaits, (a Monster vile to tell)  
That was begot of Due Desert, and reigneth now in Hell,  
With greedy mouth he always fe●ds upon the Syndrownd soul,  
Whose greedy Paws, do never cease, in sinful floods to prowl.  
Loe. ● his the end, of every such as here lives lustylye  
Necglecting God thou seest. in vice, ●o live. in sin do die.  
What should I speak of all their harms blood that happens them in life?  
Their Conscience pricked, their barren their toil, their grief, their strife,  
With mischiefs heaped many a one, which they do never try,  
That Lou● & Fear the mighty God, that rules and rains on high,  
To long it we are, to make discourse, and Phoebus down descends,  
And in the Clouds his beams doth hide which tempest sure portends,  
Look how the beasts begin to sling, and cast their heads on high,  
The Hear on show mounts above the Clouds the Crows each where do cry  
All this shows rain, time bids us go come Coridon away,  
Take up thy Staff, fetch in thy beasts let us go while we may.  

Coridon:  Cornix agreed, go thou before, you cursed Bull of mine  
I must go drive: he never bides, among my Father's Cows.  
Finis Egluge octave.   

¶ An epitaph of the Lord Sheffeldes death.  
WHen brutish broil, and rage of war in Clownysh hearts began  
When Tigers stout, in Tamners' bond unmusled all they ran,  
The Noble Sheffeyld Lord by birth and of a courage good,  
By clubbish hands, of crabbed Clowns there spent his Noble blood.  
His noble birth availed not, his honour all was vain,  
Amid the press, of Mast ye Curs, the valiant Lord was slave.  
And after such a sort (O ruth,) that who can tears suppress.  
To think the Dunghill Dogs should daunt the Flower of worthiness.  
While as the ravening Wolves he prayed his guiltless life to save.  
A bloody Butcher big and blunt, a vile unwieldy knave  
With beastly blow of boisterous bill at him (O Lord) let drive,  
And cleste his head, and said therewith shalt thou be left alive?  
O Lord that I had present been, and Hector's force withal,  
Before that from his Carlysh hands, the cruel Bill did fall.  
Then should that peasant vile have felt the clap upon his Crown,  
That should have dazed his dogged heart from driving Lords adown.  
Then should my hands have saved thy life good Lord whom dear I loved  
Then should my heart in doubtful case, full well to the been proved,  
But all in vain thy death I wail, thy Corpse in earth doth lie.  
Thy king and Country for to serve thou dydste not fear to die.  
Farewell good Lord, thy death bewail all such as well the knew,  
And every man laments thy case: and Googe thy death doth rue.   

¶ An epitaph of M. Shelley slain at Musselbroughe.  
Wan Mars had moved mortal hate and forced sumysh heat  
And high Bellona had decreed, to sit with Sword in Seat,  
The Scots untrue with fighting hand, their promise to deny,  
Assembled fast, & England thought, the troth with them to try.  
Chose Musclebroughe their fighting place amid those barren fyelds  
Their breach of faith, there not to try with troth, but trotheles Shyeldes  
In battle brave, and Army strong Encamped sore they lay,  
Ten Scots to one (a dreadful thing a doleful fighting day.)  
That English men were all aghast, with quaking staves in hand.  
To see their enemies lie so near, and death with them to stand.  
No other remedy there was, but fight it out or fly.  
And who should first the Onset give, was sure therein to die.  
Thus all dismayed, and wrapped in fear with doubtful mind they stand,  
If best it be, with flight of foot, to strive or fight of hand.  
Till at the length, a Captain stout. with haughty mind 'gan speak.  
O Towards all, and maydly men of Courage faint and weak,  
Unworthy come of Brutus race, is this your manhood gone,  
And is there none you dastards all. that dare them set upon.  
Then Shelley all inflamed with heat with heat of valiant mind,  
No Towards we, nor maydly men, ne yet of Dastards kind,  
I would you wist did ever come, but dare be bold to try,  
Our manhood hear, though nought appear but death to all men's eye  
And with these words (O noble heart) no longer there he stayed,  
But forth before them all he sprang as one no whit dismayed  
With charged staff on foaming horse his Spurs with heels he strikes,  
And forward runs with swyftye race, among the mortal Pikes  
And in this race with famous end, to do his Country good,  
Gave Onset first upon his Foes, and lost his vital blood.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ An epitaph of Master Thomas Phayre.  
THe haughty verse, the Maro wrote made Rome to wonder much  
And marvel none for why the Style and weightiness was such,  
That all men judged Parnassus Mownt had cleft herself in twain,  
And brought forth one, that seemed to drop from out Minerua●s brain.  
But wonder more, may britain great where Phayre did flourish late,  
And barren tongue with sweet accord reduced to such estate:  
That Virgil's verse hath greater grace in foreign foot obtained,  
Than in his own. who whilst he lived each other Poets stayned·  
The Noble H. Hawarde once, that reached eternal fame,  
With mighty Style, did bring a piece of Virgil's work in frame,  
And Grimaold gave the like attempt, and D●uglas won the Ball,  
whose famous wit in scottish rhyme had made an end of all.  
But all these same did Phayre excel, I dare presume to write,  
As much as doth Appoll●es Beams, the dymmest Star in light.  
The envious fates (O pity great, had great disdain to see,  
That us amongst there should remain so fine a wit as he,  
And in the midst of all his toil, did force him hence to wend,  
And leave a Work unperfyt so, that never man shall end.   

¶ An epitaph of the Death of Nicolas Grimaold.  
Behold this fleeting world how all things fade  
How every thing doth pass and we are away,  
Each state of life, by common course and trade,  
Abides no time, but hath a passing day.  
For look as life, that pleasant Dame hath brought,  
That pelasaunt years, and days of lustynes,  
So Death our Foe, consumeth all to nought,  
envying thief, with Dart doth us oppress,  
And that which is, the greatest gryfe of all,  
The greedy Gripe, doth no estate respect,  
But where he comes, he makes them down to fall,  
Ne stays he at, the high sharp witted sect.  
For if that wit, or worthy Eloquens,  
Or learning deep, could move him to forbear,  
O Grima●ld then, thou hadst not yet gone hence  
But hear haddest seen, full many an aged year.  
Ne had the Muses lost so fine a Flower,  
Nor had Minerva wept to leave the so,  
If wisdom might have fled the fatal hour,  
Thou hadst not yet been suffered for to go,  
A thousand doltysh Geese we might have spared,  
A thousand witless heads, death might have found  
And taken them, for whom no man had card,  
And laid them low, in deep oblivious ground,  
But Fortune favours Fools as old men say  
And let's them live, and take the wise away.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ To Master Alexander Nowell.  
THe Muse's joy, and well they may to see,  
So well their labour come to good success,  
That they sustained long ago in thee,  
Minerva smiles, Phoebus can do no less,  
But over all, they chiefly do rejoice,  
That leaving things, which are but fond and vain,  
Thou didst choose, (O good and happy choice)  
In sacred Scoles, thy lucky years to train,  
By which thou hast obtained (O happy thing)  
To learn to live, while other wander wide,  
And by thy life, to please the immortal king,  
Than which so good, nothing can be applied,  
Law gives the gain, and physic fyls the Purse,  
Promotions high, gives Arts to many one,  
But this is it, by which we scape the Curse,  
And have the bliss of God, when we be gone.  
Is this but only Scriptures for to read?  
No, no. Not talk, but life gives this in dead.   

¶ To Doctor Bale.  
GOod aged Bale: that with thy hoary hears  
Dost yet persist, to turn the painful Book,  
O happy man, that hast obtained such years,  
And leav'st not yet, on Papers pale to look,  
give over now to beat thy wearied brains,  
And rest thy Pen that long hath laboured sore  
For aged men unfit sure is such pain,  
And the beseems to labour now no more,  
But thou I think Don Plato's part will play  
With Book in hand, to have thy dying day.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ To M. Edward Cobham.  
Old Socrates, whose wisdom did excel,  
And past the reach, of wisest in his time,  
Surmounted all, that on the earth did dwell,  
That craggy hills, of virtue high did climb,  
That Socrates, my Cobham did allow,  
Each man in youth, himself in Glass to view,  
And wild them oft, to use the same, but how?  
Not to delight, in form of fading hue.  
Nor to be proud thereof, as many be,  
But for to strive, by beauty of the mind,  
For to adorn, the beauty he doth see.  
If warlike form, Dame Nature him assygnde,  
By virtuous life, than countenance for to get,  
That shall deface, the fairest of them all,  
Such Beauty as no age nor years will fret:  
That flies with fame, when fickle form doth fail,  
Thus much I say, that here to the present,  
My words a Glass for the to look upon.  
To the whom God, in tender years hath lent,  
A towardness, that may be mused upon,  
Such towardness, as in more graver years,  
Doth sure a hope, of greater things pretend,  
Thy noble mind, that to thy friends appear,  
Doth show the blood, whereof thou dost descend,  
The gentleness, thou usest unto all such,  
As smallly have deserved good will of thee,  
Doth show the grace, thou hast that sure is much,  
As ever yet, in any I did see,  
Thy wit as ripe, as Nature well can give,  
Declares a greater hope than all the rest,  
That shall remain, to the whilst thou dost live,  
In desperate ills, a medicine ever priest.  
The good behaviour, of thyself in place  
wheresoever that thou chancest for to light,  
So much both beauty, mind and wit doth grace  
As well can be required of any wight.  
What resteth now? but only God to praise,  
Of whom thou hast received these Gifts of thyns,  
So shalt thou long, live hear with happy days,  
And after Death, the starry Skies shalt climb,  
Let naughty men, say what they list to thee,  
Trade thou thyself, in serving him above,  
No sweeter service can devised be,  
Whom if thou fearest, and faithfully dost love,  
Be sure no thing, on earth shall the annoy,  
Be sure he will, the from each harm defend,  
Be sure thou shalt, long time thy life enjoy,  
And after many years to have a blessed end.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ Of Edwardes of the Chapel.  
Divine Camenes that with your sacred food,  
Have fed and fosterde up from tender years,  
A happy man, that in your favour stood  
Edward's in Court that can not find his fears  
Your names be blessed, that in this present age  
So fine a head, by Art have framed out  
Whom some hereafter helped by Poet's rage,  
Perchance may match, but none shall pass (no doubt)  
O Plautus if thou wert alive again,  
That Comedies so finely dydste indite.  
Or Terence thou that with thy pleasant brain,  
The hearers mind on stage didst much delight.  
What would you say sirs if you should behold,  
As I have done the doings of this man?  
No word at all, to swear I durst be bold,  
But burn with tears, that which with mirth began,  
I mean your books, by which you gate your name,  
To be forgot, you would commit to flame.  
Alas I would Edward's more tell thy praise,  
But at thy name my muse amazed stays.   

To L. Blundeston.  
SOme men be counted wise that well can talk:  
And some because they can each man beguile.  
Some for because they know well cheese from chalk,  
And can be sure, weep who so list to smile.  
But (Blundston) him I call the wisest wight,  
Whom God gives grace to rule affections ryght·   

The Answer of L. Blundeston to the same.  
Affection's seeks high honours frail estate,  
Affections doth the golden mean reprove.  
Affections tourns the friendly heart to hate,  
Affections breed with out discretion Love,  
Both wise and happy (Googe) he may be height,  
Whom God gives grace, to rule affections right.   

¶ To Alexander Nevell.  
THe little Fish, that in the stream doth fleet  
With broad forth stretched Fyns for his disport  
When as he spies, the fishes bait so sweet.  
In haste he hies, fearing to come to short.  
But all to soon (alas) his greedy mind,  
By rash attempt, doth bring him to his bane,  
for where he thought a great relief to find,  
By hidden hook, the simple fool is ta'en.  
So fareth man, that wanders here and there,  
Thinking no hurt to happen him thereby,  
He runs amain, to gaze on Beauty's cheer,  
Takes all for gold that glisters in the eye,  
And never leaves to feed by looking long,  
On Beauty's Bait, where Bondage lies enwrapped,  
Bondage that makes him sing an other song,  
And makes him curse the bait that him entrapte.  
Nevell to thee, that lovest their wanton looks,  
feed on the bait, but pet beware the Hooks.   

Alexander Nevells Answer to the same.  
IT is not cursed Cupid's Dart:  
Nor Venus cankered Spite,  
It is not vengeance of the Gods  
That wretched hearts doth smite,  
With restless rage of careful love.  
No, No, thy Force alone  
Affection fond, doth stir these flames.  
Thou causest us to moan  
And wail, & curs our wretched states.  
Our thrice unhappy plights,  
Our sighs, & powdered sobs which tears,  
Our grievous groaning Sprights,  
Thy hateful Malice doth procure:  
O Fancy flaming Fiend  
Of Hel. For thou in outward shape,  
And colour of a friend  
Dost by thy Snares & slymed Hooks  
entrap the wounded Hearts:  
From whence these Hell-like torments spring,  
& ever greaving Smarts.  
Whence ●ripe of mind, with changed cheer  
Whence face be smeared with tears.  
Whence thousand mischiefs more, where with  
such Miser's lives outweares.  
Our gazing eyes on Beauties bait  
do work out endless bane.  
Our eyes I say do work our woe,  
Our eyes procure our pain.  
These are the Traps to vexed minds  
Here Gins and Snares do lie.  
Here fire & flames by Fancy framed,  
In breast do broil and fry.  
O Goo●e the Bait son spied is,  
Soon viewed their wanton looks.  
Whereon to feed, and yet to shun,  
The privy lurking hooks,  
Their pain, Their toil, Their labour is  
There There lies endless strife.  
O happy than that Man account,  
Whose well directed Life  
Can fly those ills, which fancy stirs,  
And live from Bondage free.  
A Phoenix right on earth (no doubt)  
A Bird full rare to see.   

¶ To M. Henrye Cobham of the most blessed state of Life.  
THe happiest life that here we have,  
My Cobham if I shall desyne,  
The goodliest state, twyxte birth and grave,  
Most gracious days and sweetest tyme.  
The fairest face, of fading Life,  
Race ryghtlyest run, in ruthful ways,  
The safest means to shun all strife:  
The surest Staff, in fyekle Days:  
I take not I as some do take,  
To gape and gawne, for honours high,  
But Court and 〈◊〉 to forsake,  
And live at home, full quietly,  
I well do mind, what he once said,  
Who had, Court not in any case,  
For Virtue is, in Courts decayed,  
And Vice with States, hath chiefest place,  
Not Court but Country I do judge,  
Is it where lies, the happiest life,  
In Country grows, no grating grudge,  
In Country stands not sturdy strife,  
In Country, Bacchus hath no place,  
In Country Venus hath defect,  
In Country Thra●● hath no grace,  
In Country few of G●atoes Sect.  
But these same four and many more,  
In Court, thou shalt be sure to find,  
For they have vowed, not thence to go,  
Because in Court, dwells idle mind.  
In Country mayst thou safely rest,  
And fly all these, if that thou list,  
The Country ●herfore, judge I b●st,  
Where godly life, doth vice resist,  
Where virtuous exercise with joy,  
Doth spend the years that are to run,  
Where Vices few, may the annoy,  
This life is best when all is done.   

¶ To Alexander Nevell of the blessed Sat of him that feels not the force of Cupid's flames.  
AS oft as I remember with myself,  
The Fancies fond, that flame by foolish Love,  
And mark the Furies fell, the blinded elf  
And Venus she that reins so sore above,  
As oft as I do see the woeful state,  
Of Lovers all, and eke their misery,  
The one's desiring mind the others hate,  
Troth with the one, with the other Treachery,  
So oft say I, that blessed is the wight,  
Yea Nevell blessed, and double blessed again,  
That can by reason rule his mind a right,  
And take such foolish fading toys for vain.   

¶ Alexander Nevells Awnswere to the same.  
THe plunged mind in floods of griefs  
The Senses drowned quyght,  
The heart oppressed. The flesh consumed  
The changed state outright.  
The Body dried by broiling blaze,  
Of privy scorching Flame.  
The doleful Face. The countenance sad  
The drooping Courage tame.  
The Scalding sighs. The grievous groones  
The burning rage of fire  
The earnest suit, The fruitless Toil.  
The deep and hot Desire,  
The Brains quite brusd & crushed with Cares.  
The ever during sore.  
The very pains of Hell itself,  
with thousand mischief's more,  
Which wounded Hearts inflamed with Love  
with grief do overflow,  
And works their endless plague & spite  
Till Death from thence do grow.  
All these conclude him blessed (my Googe)  
and triple blessed again,  
That taught by tract of Time can take  
Such fading Toys for vain.   

¶ To mistress A.  
Since I so long have lived in pain and burnt for love of thee,  
(O cruel heart) dost thou no more esteem the Love of me,  
Regardst thou not, the health of him? that the, above the rest  
Of Creatures all, and next to God, hath dearest in his breast.  
Is pity placed from the so far is gentleness exiled?  
Hast thou been fostered in the Caves, of Wolves or Lions wild?  
Hast thou been so? why then no force, the less I marvel I,  
Such as the Damme, such is the young experience true doth try.  
Sith thou art of so fierce a mind, why did not God than place  
In thee, with such a tigers Heart, a fowl ill faverde face?  
Sure for no other end but that, he likes no lovers trade,  
And the therefore a raging Fende, an Angel's face hath made.  
Such one as thou, was Go●gon once as ancient Poets tell,  
Who with her Beauty mazed men, and now doth reign in H●ll.  
But mercy yet, of the I crave, if aught in the remain,  
And let me not so long the force, of flaming fire sustain,  
Let pity joined with beauty be, so shall I not disdain.  
My blood, my heart, my life to spend with toil, with strife, and pain,  
To do the good, my breath to lose, if need shall so require,  
But for my service and my pains thou givest me hate for hire.  
Well now take this for end of all, I love and thou dost hate,  
Thou livest in pleasures happily. and I in wretched stay.  
Pains can not last for evermore, but time and end will try,  
And time shall tell me in my age, How youth led me awry.  
Thy face that me tormented so, in time shall sure decay,  
And all that I do like or love, shall vanish quite away,  
Thy face in time shall wrynckled be, at which I shall be glad,  
To see thy form transformed thus, that made me once so sad,  
Than shall I blame my folly much and thank the mightiest king  
That hath me saved till such a day, to see so fond a thing.  
And till that time I will keep close my flames and let them blaze,  
All secretly within my breast, no man on me shall gaze.  
I will not trespass sinfully, for God shall give me grace  
To see the time wherein I shall neglect thy foolish face,  
And till that time adieu to thee, God keep thee far from me,  
And send thee in that place to dwell, that I shall never see.   

¶ To George Holmeden of a running Head.  
THe greatest vice that happens unto men,  
And yet a vice, that many common have,  
As ancient Writers way with sober Pen,  
Who gave their doom, by force of wisdom grave,  
The sorest maim, the greatest evil sure,  
The vilest plague that Students can sustain,  
And that which most doth ignorance procure.  
My Holmeden is to have a ronning Brain,  
For who is he that leads more restless life,  
Or who can ever live more ill bestead?   

¶ The Heart absent.  
Sweet muse tell me, where is my heart become.  
For well I feel, it is from hence a way,  
My Senses all, doth sorrow so benumb:  
That absent thus, I can not live a Day.  
I know for troth, there is a special Place.  
Where as it most, desireth for to be:  
For Oft it leaves, me thus in Dolfull case,  
And hither comes, at length a gain to me?  
wouldest thou so fain, be told where is thy Hart●  
Sir Fool in place, where as it should not be:  
Tied up so fast, that it can never start?  
Till wisdom get, again thy liberty:  
In place where thou, as safe mayst dwell sweat daw?  
As may the heart, lie by the lions paw:  
And where for thee, as much be sure they pass:  
As did the master, on's for Esop's Ass.   

¶ To Alexander Nevell.  
IF thou canst banish Idleness,  
Cupid's Bow is broke, 
Gulled.   
And well thou mayst despise his brands clean void of flame & smoke  
What moved the king Agistus on's, to Love with vile excess:  
The cause at hand doth straight appear he lived in Idleness.  
Finis.   

¶ The Answer of A. Nevell to the same.  
THe lack of labour mayms that mind,  
And wit & Reason quyght exiles.  
And Reason fled. Flames Fancy blind.  
And Fancy she forthwith beguyles  
The Senseless wight: that swiftly sails  
Through deepest floods of vile excess.  
Thus vice abounds. Thus virtue quails  
By means of drowsy Idleness.   

¶ To mistress D.  
NOt from the high Cytherion Hill nor from that Lady's throne  
From whence flies forth the winged boy that makes some sore to groan.  
But nearer hence this token comes, from out the Dungeon deep,  
Where never Plutto yet did reign nor Proserpyne did sleep.  
Whereas thy faithful Servant lives. whom duty moves aright,  
To wail that he so long doth lack, his own dear master sight.   

¶ Out of an old Poet.  
Fie Fie, I loath to speak wilt thou my lust,  
Compel me now, to do so foul an act.  
Nay rather God, with Flame consume to dust.  
My carry on vile, than I perform this fact  
Let rather thoughts, that long, have wearied me:  
Or sickness such as Fancy fond hath brought,  
O gaping Hell, dryne me now down to thee,  
Let boiling sighs, consume me all to nought.  
ONhis musing as I sat, and Candle burning buy,  
When all were hushed I might discern a simple silly Fly.  
¶ That flew before mine eyes, with free rejoicing heart,  
And here & there, with wings did play as void of pain and smart,  
¶ Sometime by me she sat, when she had played her fill,  
And ever when she rested had about she flyttered still.  
¶ When I perceyud her well, rejoicing in her place,  
O happy fly quoth I, and eke, O worm in happy case.  
¶ Which two of us is best? I that have reason? no:  
But thou that reason art without and therewith void of woe.  
¶ I live and so dost thou, but I live all in pain,  
And Subject am to her alas, that makes my grief her gain.  
WHen I do hear thy name, alas my heart doth rise:  
And seeks forthwith to see the salve that most contents mine eyes.  
But when I see thy Face, that hath procured my pain,  
Then boils my blood in every part, and beats in every vain?  
Thy voice when I do hear, than colour comes and goes,  
Some time as pale as Earth I look, some time as red as Rose.  
If thy sweet Face do smile, than who so well as I?  
If thou but cast a scornful look, then out alas I die.  
But still I live in pain, my fortune willeth so,  
That I should burn & thou yet know, no whit of all my wo.  
Unhappy tongue, why didst thou not consent  
When first mine eyes did view that Princely face,  
To show good will, that heart oppressed than meant.  
And whilst time was, to sew for present grace.  
O fainting heart, why didst thou then conceal?  
Thine inward fierce, that flamed in every vain,  
When pity and gentleness, were bend to heal.  
Why didst thou not, declare thy raging pain?  
When well thou mightst have moved her gentle mind,  
Why didst thou than, keep back thy woeful plain?  
Thou knewst full well, redress is hard to find,  
When in thy own affairs, thy courage faynts.  
But since she is gone, bewail thy grief no moor  
Since thou thyself, wart Causer of the sore.   

¶ Oculi augent dolorem. Out of sight, out of mind.  

THe oftener seen, the more I lust,  
The more I lust, the more I smart  
The more I smart, the more I trust,  
The more I trust, the heavier heart,  
The heavy heart, breeds mine unrest,  
Thy absence therefore, like I best.   

The rarer seen, the less in mind,  
The less in mind, the lesser pain,  
The lesser pain, less grief I find,  
The lesser grief, tthe greater gain,  
The greater gain, the merrier I,  
Therefore I wish thy sight to fly.   

The further of, the more I joy.  
The more I joy, the happier life,  
The happier life, less hurts annoy  
The lesser hurts, pleasure most rife,  
Such pleasures rife, shall I obtain  
When Distance doth departed us twain  
¶ Finis.   

ACcuse not God, if fancy fond, do move thy foolish brain,  
To wail for love, for thou thyself, art cause of all thy pain.  
¶ Finis.   

TWo lines shall tell the Gryefs that I by Love sustain.  
I burn, I flame, I faint, I fryse, of Hell I feel the pain.    

¶ Of the unfortunate choice of his Valentyne.  
THe Pains that all the Furies fell can cast from Limbo lake,  
Each Torment of those Hellish brains where crawleth many a snake,  
Each mischief that therrin doth lie each smart that may be found,  
Fly from those feendish clawed a while with flames break up the ground,  
Light here upon this cursed hand, make here your dwelling place,  
And plague the part, the durst presume his Master to disgrace.  
Which thrust amongst a number of: so many princely names,  
And where thy Maistres had her place amongst the chiefest Dames,  
Durst thus presume to leave her there and draw a stranger wight,  
And by thine own unhappy draft torment my pauled spright.   

¶ The uncertainty of Life.  
NO vainer thing there can be found amid this vale of strife,  
As Ancient men report have made then trust uncertain life.  
This true we daily find, by proofs of many years,  
As answered well, unto thy virtuous fame,  
The gentleness that at thy hands I found  
In staungers' house, all unacquainted I,  
Good S. hath my heart to the so bound,  
That from the can it not be forced to fly,  
In pledge whereof, my service here I give  
If thou so wilt, to serve the whilst I live.   

¶ Of Money.  
Give Money me, take Friendship who so list,  
For Friends are gone come once Aduersytie,  
When Money yet remaineth safe in Chest,  
That quickly can the bring from misery,  
Fair face show friends, when riches do abound,  
Come time of proof, farewell they must away,  
Believe me well, they are not to be found.  
If God but send the once a lowering day.  
Gold never starts aside, but in distress,  
finds ways enough, to ease thine heaviness.   

¶ Going towards Spain.  
FArewell thou fertyll soil, that Brutus first out found,  
When he pooresoule, was driven clean from out his Country ground.  
That Northward layst thy lusty sides amid the raging Seas.  
Whose wealthy Land doth foster up, thy people all in ease,  
While others scrape & cark abroad, their simple food to get,  
And silly Souls take all for good, that cometh to the Net.  
Which they with painful pains dopych, in barren burning Realms:  
While we have all with out restraint among thy wealthy streams.  
O blessed of God thou Pleasant I'll, where wealth herself doth dwell:  
Wherein my tender years I passed, I bid thee now farewell.  
For Fancy drives me forth abroad, and bids me take delight,  
In leaving thee and ranging far, to see some stranger sight.  
And saith I was not framed hear, to live at home with eas:  
But passing forth for knowledge sake to cut the foaming seas.   

¶ At Bonyvall in France.  
O Fond affection, wonder of my heart,  
When wilt thou Cease, to breed my restless pain,  
When comes the end, of this my Cruel smart:  
When shall my force, beat back thy force again.  
When shall I say, this restless rage of mine:  
By Reason ruled, is banished quite a way,  
And I escaped, these cruel bonds of thine:  
O flaming seend, that seekest my decay.  
Safe thinking I, ●haribdis Rage to fly,  
On Scyll a Rock, in Bonyvall I die.   

¶ Coming home ward out of Spain.  
O Raging Seas, and mighty Neptune's rayn●▪  
In monstrous Hills, that throwest thyself so high,  
That with thy sludes, dost beat the shores of Spain:  
And break the clives, that dare thy force envy.  
Cease now thy rage, and lay thine Ire a side,  
And thou that hast, the governance of all,  
O mighty God, grant Weather Wind and Tide,  
Till in my Country Coast, our Anchor fall.   

¶ To L. Blundeston of Ingratitude.  
THe little Bird, the tender Marlyon,  
That useth oft upon the Lark to pray,  
With great reproach, doth stain the mind of man  
If all be true, that Writers of her say.  
For she a Creature, maimed of Reason's part,  
And framed to live according to her kind,  
Doth seem to foster Reason in her heart  
And to aspire unto Devyner mind.  
When Hunger's rage she hath exiled quite,  
And supped well as falleth for her state.  
The silly Lark, doth take by force of flight,  
And hies to tree, where as she lodged late,  
And on the trembling Bird all night she stondes,  
To keep her feet, from force of nipping cold,  
The amazed Wretch, within her enemies hands,  
And closed fast, within the clasping hold.  
awaiteth Death, with drowsy drooping heart,  
And all the night with fear draws on her life,  
The gentle Bird, when darkness doth depart  
Doth not deprive, the silly soul of life,  
Nor fills with her her hungered eager breast  
But weighing well, the service she hath done.  
To spill the Blood, her Nature doth detest,  
And from so great a Crime, herself doth shun.  
She lets her go and more with steadfast eyes.  
Beholds which way she takes with mazed flight,  
And in those parts that day she never flies  
least on that Bird again she chance to light.  
Lo, Blundston hear how kindness doth abound,  
In silly Souls where Reason is exiled,  
This Bird alone sufficeth to confound,  
The brutish minds of men that are defiled,  
With that great Vice, that vile and heinous Crime  
Ingratitude (which some unkindness call.)  
That Poison strong that springeth still with time,  
Till at the length, it hath infected all.   

¶ The Answer of L. Blundeston to the same.  
THis Mirror left of this thy Bird I find,  
Hath not such force, to enter in the Heart,  
To root away, Unthankfulness of mind,  
As others have, the Virtues to pervert, (so prone we are to Vice:)  
The Tench by kind, hath Salve for every sore,  
And heals the maimed Pike in his distress,  
The churlish Pike fo Gentleness therefore,  
In his reward, doth Cruelty express.  
His murdering mind, his filthy spotted faith,  
When hunger pricks to fill his greedy jaws,  
He gripes his poor Chirurgeon unto death.  
Who late to him of life was only cause.  
Thy Merlians have few Ayryes in our ground  
But Pikes have Spawns good store in every Pound   

¶ To the Tune of Appelles.  

THe rushing Rivers that do run  
The valleys sweet adorned new  
That leans their sides against the Sun  
with flowers fresh of sundry hue,  
Both Ash and Elm, and Oak so high,  
Do all lament my woeful cry.   

while winter black, with hydious storms  
Doth spoil the ground of summers green,  
while spring-time sweet the leaf returns  
That late on tree could not be seen,  
while summer burns while harvest reins  
Still still do rage my restless pains.   

No end I find in all my smart,  
But endless torment I sustain  
Since first alas, my woeful heart  
By sight of the was forced to plain,  
Since that I lost my Liberty,  
Since that thou mad'st a Slave of me   

My heart that once abroad was free  
Thy Beauty hath in durance brought  
Onhis reason ruled and guided me,  
And now is wit consumed with thought  
Onhis I rejoiced above the Sky,  
And now for the I alas I die.   

Onhis I rejoiced in Company,  
And now my chief and whole delight  
Is from my friends away to fly  
And keep alone my wearied spright  
Thy face divine and my desire,  
From flesh hath me transformed to fire.   

O Nature thou that first did frame,  
My Ladies hear of purest Gold  
Her face of Crystal to the same.  
Her lips of precious Rubies mould  
Her neck of Alabaster white  
Surmounting far each other Wight   

Why didst thou not that time devise  
Why didst thou not foresee before?  
The mischief that thereof doth rise,  
And grief on grief doth heap with stor  
To make her heart of War alone,  
And not of Flynt and Marble Stone.   

O Lady show thy favour yet,  
Let not thy Servant die for the  
Where Rigour ruled, let Mercy sit  
Let Pity Conquer Cruelty,  
Let not Disdain, a Fiend of Hell,  
Possess the place, where Grace should dwell.    

¶ Cupido Conquered.  
THe sweetest time of all the year it was when as the Son,  
Had newly entered Gemini, and warming heat begun:  
When every tree was clothed green, and flowers fair did show,  
And when the whit and blowming May on Hawthorns thick did grow,  
When sore I longed to seek a broad, to see some Pleasant sight,  
A mid my woes and heavy haps, that might my Mind delight,  
Care would not let me bide within, but forced me forth to go:  
And bade me seek sum present help, for to relyve my wo.  
Than forward went I forth in haste, to view the garnished trees?  
What time the Son was mounted up, twirt nine and ten degrees.  
From Flowers flew sweet airs abroad, delighting much my brain,  
With sight & smells ga●●orow fade, and joy return again.  
So that in mind I much rejoice, to feel myself so light:  
For gorgeous sights & odours sweet had new revived my spright.  
Beside the pleasant Harmonye, that singing Birds did make:  
Bade me pull up my heart again, and sorrow soon forsake.  
For though (quoth Reason.) she be gone on whom thy Life depends,  
Yet fond it is to cark and care where there is none amends.  
Thus forth I went, & in the grooves I ranged hear and there,  
Whereas I hard such pleasant tunes as Heaven had been near.  
I think that if Amphion had, been present there to play,  
Or if Sir Orph●us might have hel●, his Harp, that present day.  
Or if Apoll● with his Lute, had striven to excel,  
None of them all, by music should, have borne away the Bell.  
I rather judge the thracian would, his Harp wherewith he played,  
Have cast a way as one whom Ire, had utterly dismayed.  
Such passing tunes of sundry Birds, I never herd before,  
The further I went in the Woods. the noise resounded more.  
O happy Birds quoth I what life, is this that you do lead,  
How far from Care and misery, how far from Fear and dread:  
With what rejoicing melody, pass● you this fading Life,  
While Man unhappiest creature lives In wretched toil and strife.  
Still forth I went and wondered at, this pleasant Harmony.  
And gazed at these little Fools, that made such Melody:  
Till at the length I 'gan to spy, a stately Laurel tree,  
So placed and set in such a guise, That as it seamed to me,  
Dame Nature strove to show herself in planting such a thing,  
For Even out beside the rock, a fountain clean did spring,  
Where in the water I beheld, resembled wondrous true,  
The white & green of all the trees, adorned late of new.  
And how in order eke they stood, a goodly sight to see,  
And there I might discern the Birds that song in every tree.  
To move the Bill & shake the wings in utering Music sweet  
And hear and there, to fly to feed, and eftsoons there to meet.  
Great pleasure had I there to bide, and stare upon the Spring,  
For why me thought it did surmount, each other kind of thing.  
Now was the Son got up aloft, and reached the middle line,  
And in the Well, the Golden Gloobe, with flaming Beams did shine,  
Whereof the brightness was so great that I might not endure,  
Longer to look within the Spring, whose waters were so pure.  
Vnwylling went I thence away, and underneath the tree,  
I laid me down whose branches broad did keep the Son from me.  
Thinking to rest me there a while, till falling some degrees▪  
Sir Phoebus should have hid himself, behind the shadowing trees,  
And then for to have viewed the Spring, and marked every place,  
And seen if there I could have spied the weeping Biblis face.  
For sure I think, it was the place, wherein Narcissus died,  
Or else the Well, to which was turned poor Biblis while she cried.  
But whether it was weariness, with labour that I took,  
Or Fume that from the Spring did rise, wherein I late did look.  
Or if it were the sweet accord that singing Birds did keep,  
Or what it was, I know no whit but I fell fast a sleep.  
I think the woddy Nymphs agreed that I should have this chance,  
And that it was their pleasure so, to show me things in trance.  
Whilst I lay thus in slumbre deep. I might perceive to stand,  
A Person clothed all in white, that held a Rod in hand.  
Which was me thought of Massey Gold, I knew it very weal,  
For that was it, made Argos sleep, while he did Io steal.  
When I perceived by his attire, that it was Mercuri.  
My heart at first began to faint, yet at the length quoth I  
Thou Goddess Son, why standst that there what business now with thee,  
What meanest thou in thy flying weed, For to appear to me,  
And therewithal my thought I stayed, and could no farther speak,  
For Fear did force my speech to fail, and Courage warred weak.  
Which when the son of Maia saw, he took me by the hand,  
Look up quoth he be not afraid: but boldly by me stand.  
The Muses all of Helicon, have fent me now to thee:  
Whom thou dost serve & whose thou sekst For ever more to be.  
And thanks to the by me they send, Because thou tookest pain,  
In their Affairs (a thankeles thing) 〈…〉 ●●ayne.  
desiring thee not for to stay, for Momus ill report,  
But ending that thou hast begun, to spite the Cankered sort.  
And think not thou, that thou art he, that canst escape Disdain.  
The day shall come when thankful men, shall well accept thy Pain,  
But rather lay before thine eyes, the high attempts of those,  
Whose stately style with painful proof, their worthy wytes disclose,  
Mark him that thundered out the deeds grace, Of old Anchiseses sun,  
Whose English verse gives Maro's In all that he hath done,  
Whose death the Muse's sorrow much, that lack of aged days,  
Amongst the common Brytons old, should hinder Virgil's praise.  
Mark him that hath well framed a Glass▪ for states to look upon,  
Whose labour shows the ends of them, that lived long a gone.  
Mark him that shows the Tragedies thine own familiar Friend,  
By whom the Spaniards haughty Style in English Verse is pend.  
Mark these same three, & other more, whose doings well are known,  
Whose fair attempts in every place The flying fame hath blown,  
Hast thou not hard, thyself in place full oft and many a time,  
Lo here the Auctor loseth grace, Lo here a doltysh Rhyme,  
Now sith that they have this reward who pass the even as far,  
As in the night Diana doth, Excel the dimmest Star.  
Take thou no scorn at evil tongues, what neadst thou to disdain?  
Sith they whom none can well amend have like fruit of their pain.  
Moreover yet the Ladies nine, have all commanded me,  
Because they know, the blinded God hath some thing pierced the.  
To lead the forth, a thing to see, if all things happen right,  
Which shall give the occasion good, with joyful mind to write.  
To this, I would have answered fain and there began to speak,  
But as my words were coming forth my purpose he did break.  
Come on (quoth he,) none Answer now we may no longer stay.  
But frame thyself, to fly abroad, for hence we must away.  
And here withal, on both my sides, two wings me thought did grow,  
Of mighty breadth, away went he, and after him I flow.  
And ever as we mounted up, I looked upon my wings,  
And proud I was, me thought to see such unacquainted things.  
Till forth we flew, my Guide & I, with mownting flight apace,  
Beholding Rivers, woods, & Hills and many a goodly place.  
Till at the length me thought I might a Gorgeous Castle spy,  
There down began my guide to fall, and downward eke fell I,  
Lo hear the place where thou must light 'Gan Mercury to say,  
Farewell and note what thou dost see, for I must hence away.  
And with this same a way flew he, and left me there alone,  
Where as with Fear a masde I stood, and thus began to move.  
Alas where am I now become, what Cursed Chance hath blown,  
Me from the place where I was bred, to Countries hear unknown.  
What meant that fell unhappy Fiend, that Maía brought to light,  
To bring me from my Hearts desire, to see this doleful sight.  
Unhappy Wretch, I would I had, his Person hear in hand,  
Then should I wreak mine Ire of him, that brought me to this Land.  
But all to late alas I wish, for words avail not now,  
'tis best to learn, what place it is, and yet I know not how.  
Alas that here were P●h●l●me, with Compass Globe in hand,  
Whose Art should show me true the place & Climate where I stand,  
Well yet what soever chance thereon what soever Realm it be,  
You Castle will I visit sure, hap what hap will to me.  
Thus much me thought alone I spoke▪ and then I forward went,  
And cursed eke an hundred fold, them that me thither sent.  
Thus to the Ca●tell, straight I came, which when I viewed about,  
And saw the workmanship thereof full gorgeously set out.  
I entered in, with fearful Harte, much doubting how to speed,  
But ever hope of happy chance, my heavy heart ●yd fee●e.  
Wide was the Court & large within the walls were raised high,  
And all engraved with Stories fair of costly Imagrye.  
There might I see, with wondrous Art, the Picture porturde plain,  
Of old Orion Hunter good, whom Scorpions vile had slain.  
And by him stood his Borspeare and his other Instruments,  
His Net, his Dart, his Coursar, and his Hunters resting Tents.  
And under him was written fair, in Letters all of Gold,  
Here lies he slain, with Scorpions sting, unhappy wretch that would,  
Have forced the Lady of this fort with stain of Royalty.  
To have consented to his will, in filthy Lechery.  
Wherefore beware that enters here, what soever man thou art?  
Account thyself but lost, if that thou bearst a lecherous Hart.  
When I had viewed these written lines and marked the Story well,  
I joyed much, for why I knew, Dìana there did dwell.  
Diana she that Goddess is, of virgins sacred mind,  
By whom Orion Hunter wild, his Fatal end did find.  
Next unto him, I might behold, Actaeon woeful wight,  
In what a manner, all to torn, his cruel Dogs him dight.  
There might be seen, their greedy mouths which masters blood imbrued,  
And all his own unhappy men, that fast their Lord pursued.  
And many Stories more there war engraved: to long to tell.  
What fearful haps to many men, for lust unclean befell.  
Thus as I stood with musing mind beholding all things there,  
In rusheth at the Gate behind a Post with heavy cheer.  
Above them all I might behold, as placed before the rest,  
Hippolytus whom Phedraes' spite? most Cruelly had dressed.  
Hippolytus the unspotted Pearl: of pure Virginity,  
Whose noble heart could not agree, to stepdame's villainy.  
Next unto him sat Continence, and next was Labour placed?  
Of body big and strong he was, and somewhat Crabtre faced.  
Next him was placed Abstinence, a lean unwyldy wight,  
Whose Diet thine had banished clean, all fond and vain delight.  
A Thousand more me thought their war whose names I did not know,  
And if I did to long it were, in Verses them to show.  
Down of his knees the messenger, before them all doth fall,  
And unto chaste Diana there, for secure thus doth call.  
O Goddess chief of Chastity, and Sacred Virgin's mind:  
Let Pity from your noble heart: redress for Misers find.  
Let not our wearied Hearts sustain, such wrongful tyranny?  
Quench quickly now the fiery flames of open Injury.  
This said for Fear he stayed awhile, and than began again,  
A mighty Prince (quoth he) is come, with great unruly train.  
All armed well at every point, (a dreadful sight to see:)  
And every man in feats of arms, right skilful all they be.  
The Captain chief in Chariot ride with pomp and stately Pride:  
With Bow in hand of glistering gold, and quiver by his side.  
Where many a shaft full sharp doth lie: and many a mortal Dart,  
That hath with poisoned force destroyed, Full many a yielding Heart.  
He entered hath within your Realm, and taken many a Fort,  
Hath sakte them all, and spoiled them quite & slain a wondrous fort.  
In strangest guise, for where he shoots the wound doth fester still  
And all the Surgians that we have can not remove the ill,  
In little time the grief so sore, doth grow in every part,  
Distrayning through the venomed veins doth so torment the Hart.  
That some to rid themselves thereof in floods full deep they leap,  
And drown themselves some downward falls from Houses high by heap,  
Some Anchor cast on crossed Beams to rid themselves from strife,  
And hang themselves full thick on trees to end a wretched life.  
And they whose fearful minds dare not thus make an end of woe,  
With grievous flames, consuming long their life at length forego.  
Lo here the sum of all I have, this Tiger us annoys,  
And cruelly hath spoiled us, of all our wont joys.  
Whom if your Grace, do not repuls, and find some present stay,  
Undoubtedly he will win this Realm, and take us all away.  
At this, the Ladies all amazed for fear did look full pale,  
And all beheld with mazed eyes, the Wretch that told the tale.  
Till at the length Hìpolitus of heart and courage high,  
Nothing abashde, with sudden news began thus to reply.  
Cast fere away, fair Dames (quoth he) dismay yourselves no more,  
I know by whom this mischief springs and know a help therefore.  
It is not such a dreadful Wight, as he doth here report,  
That entered is within these parts, and plagues the simple sort.  
Nor is his force so great to fear, I know it I full well:  
It is the scornful blinded Boy, that near to us doth dwell.  
Whom Mars long time a go begot, of that Lascivious dame:  
That Linked in Chains for Lechery, received an open shame.  
A disobedient blinded Fool, that durst presume to turn:  
His darts against his mother on's, and caused her sore to burn.  
An ancient foo: to all this Court, Of long time he hath been:  
And hath attempted evermore, by this: Renown to win.  
His cruel heart, of Pity void, doth spare no kind of age:  
But tender youth and doting age, he strikes in furious rage.  
And laughs to scorn the silly souls that he hath wounded so,  
No Fine appointed of their ills, no end of all their wo.  
But sins he hath presumed thus, to entre hear in Place,  
And hear to threaten Conquests thus, against Diana's Grace,  
Let him besure his lofty Mind, this dead shall soon repent,  
If that your grace do here agree, with Fre and full consent.  
To make me Cheftain of this Charge and whom I list to choose,  
If Prisoner hear I bring him not, Let me mine Honour lose.  
And there he ceased with joyful looks the Ladies smiled all,  
And through his words they hoaped soon to see Cupid's fall.  
With heavenly voice Diana there, as chief above the rest:  
This wise her words began to frame, From out her sacred breast.  
My good Hippolytus quoth she, whose true and faithful mind:  
In doubtful danger often I, do always ready find.  
For to revenge the cankered rage, of all my spytfull foes,  
Thou be from whose vn●●otted heart, the floods of virtue flows.  
whose service long hath been approved, within this court of mine,  
Restrain this boys unruly rage, by valiant means of thine,  
I give the leave & thee appoint, my chief Lieutenant here,  
Choose whom thou wilt take whom thou list, thou needest no whit to fear.  
With this he rose from out his place, and looking round a bout:  
Chose Abstinence and Cont●●●●●, with Labour Captain stout.  
And with these three he took his leave of all the Ladies there,  
Who doubting of his safe return, let fall full many a tear.  
He left them there in heaviness, and made no more delay,  
But outward went & toward the Camp, he took the nearest way.  
With this the Queen's commission strait was sent abroad in haste,  
To raise up soldiers round about, and with their Captain placed.  
To bring them forth & marching on, Hippolytus to meet.  
Than sounded Trumpetes all a broad, and Drums in every street.  
And souldiears good like swarms of Bees their Captains press about  
All armed brave in Corsletes white, they march with courage stout.  
And forward shove, till at the length where as their marshal lies,  
They find the place the joyful sounds, Do mount above the skies.  
Hippolytus received them all, with words of pleasant cheer,  
And placith them in good array, because the camp was near.  
Three Battles big of them he frams, and of the Rearward strong,  
Hath Labour charge who steppeth forth, before the statlye throng:  
And Captain of the rear ward next, was placed abstinens.  
And joined to him for Policy, was Captain Continence:  
The Battle main Hippolytus, himself did choose to guide.  
And in the formest front thereof, on Courser fair doth ride:  
The Trumpets sound march on apace, and Drums the same do strike.  
Then forward moves the Army great, In order martial like.  
I came behind (me thought) and best, it seamed then to me:  
To view the dint of dreadful sword, and feyghter none to be.  
Thy Spies were sent abroad to view, the place where Cupíde lay:  
A longest a river fair and broad, they spy a pleasant way,  
Which way they took and passing forth, at length appears a plain:  
Both large & vast wher● lies the rout, of Cruel Cupid's train.  
Thus told the spies we onward high, and straight in sight we have,  
The fearful show of all our Foes, and dreadful army brave.  
The first that marched from Cupid's Camp was drowsy Idleness.  
The chiefest friend that love had then, the next was vile Excess.  
A Lubbour great, misshapen most, of all that there I saw,  
As much I think in quantity, as hores six can draw.  
A mighty face both broad and flat, and all with Rubies set:  
Much nosed like a Turkey Cock, with teeth as black as Get.  
A Belie▪ big, full trust with guts, and Pestles two, like Posts,  
A knave full square in every point, a Prince of drunken Dostes.  
Upon a Camel couched high, for Horse could none him bear,  
A mighty Staff in hand he had, his Foes a far to fear.  
Behind them all, the blinded God, doth come in Chariot fair,  
With raging flames flung round about he pestres all the air.  
And af●er him, for triumph leads a thousand wounded Hearts,  
That gush abroad hot streams of blood new pierced with his Darts,  
The army ready for to meet and all at point to fight,  
Hipolitu● with lusty cheer and with a noble spright.  
His Soldiers to encourage. Thus his words begins to place.  
My valiant friends and Subjects all of chaste Diana's Grace.  
whose noble Hearts were never stained with spot of Dastards mind,  
Behold our enemies here at hand, behold you coward blind.  
Of little force, compared with you how in a fond array,  
They straggle out no order dew, observed in their way.  
Behold what goodly Guides they have to govern them withal,  
That never knew what fight meant but live to Venus' thrall.  
Mark him that guides the rearward there that vile deformed Churl,  
Whose foggy Mates, with paunches side do thick about him whirl.  
And he that foremost hither comes lo what a handsome Squire,  
Sure full unapt to keep the field, more fit to sit by the fire.  
In fine lo Victory at hand with high triumphant Crown,  
Bend for to spoil our Foes of Fame, and cast their Glory down.  
Fight therefore now courageously, and rid your friends of fear,  
Declare your Manhood valiantly, and let your Hearts appear.  
With this the sound begins to mount and noise high to rise,  
And warlike tunes begin to dash, themselves against the Skies.  
The Canons Crack, gins to roar and Darts full thick they fly  
And covered thick, the armies both, and framed a Counter Sky.  
And now the battles both be joined with stroke of Hand to try.  
The quarrel just and for to find, where Victory● doth lie,  
The Soldiers all of Idleness, where Labour comes, do fall,  
And wounded sore, by force of him, all bathed in blood, they sprawl.  
Himself alone with Idleness now hand to hand doth fight  
And after many a mortal wound, destroys the silly wight.  
Then joins with him Sir Abstinence with aid & succours new,  
And both upon the gresye Host, of Glottonye they flew.  
The Captain doth advance himself with Abstinence to meet,  
The unwieldy Creature smitten there is tumbled under feet.  
Than Fancy flies Incontinence and all C●pidoes friends.  
Beholding Fortune thus to frown, by flight themself defends.  
Cupid when he sees himself, thus spoiled of all his aid,  
The chief Supporters of his Court, so suddenly decayed.  
Bad turn his chariots than with haste and fast away he flies,  
Amongst the chaste Hippolytus on swyftye Courser hies,  
Than all with joy they after run, down thick the enemies fall,  
The blinded boy, for secure strait to V●nus high doth call,  
But all his cries availeth not, his Foes him fast pursue,  
The driver of his Chariot soon, Hip●litus there slew.  
And down from Horse, the wretch doth fall. The horses spoiled of guide,  
A Soldier stout of Reason's band, is willed there to ride.  
Who turing reins another way restrayns him of his flight,  
His Honours lost and taken thus, Cupid in doleful plight.  
These words with trembling voice began sith Fortune thus quoth he,  
Hath given her doom from doubtful breast & turned her Grace from me.  
Sith that the most misfortune now, that ever I could find,  
Hath chanced to me and Miser I, by Destinies assygnde.  
Am captive hear, consider yet, what Fortune might have wrought  
And made a Canquerer of me, and you in Bondage brought.  
consider yet the woeful plight, where in you had remained,  
If that the Gods my happy state, had not so sore disdained,  
And by your grief, than measure mine show mercy in this case,  
That Conqueror commended is, who gives to pity place.  
The cruel mind dispraised is, In every kind of state,  
No man to haughty lives on earth, but on's may find his mate.  
These words Hippolytus I speak, to bread no farther strife,  
I speak not this of malice hear, my foot is for my life.  
Sith Fortune thus hath favoured you, grant this my small request,  
And let me live if mercy dwell, within your Noble breast,  
By this time Morphens had dispersed the drowsy Cloud of sleep,  
And from my brains the quiet trance, began full fast to creep.  
And downward fell. I waked therewith and looking round a bout,  
Long time I mused where I was, my mind was still in doubt.  
Till at the length I viewed the tree, and place where as I sat,  
And well beheld the pleasant Spring that late I wondered at.  
that late I wondered at,  
I saw beside the Golden Globe, of Phoebus' shining bright,  
That Westward half, did hide his face approaching fast the night.  
Each Bird began to shroud himself in tree to take his rest  
And ceaste the pleasant tunes that late proceeded from their Breast.  
I homeward went, and left them all, and restless all that night,  
I musing lay, tormented thus, with fond lamenting spright.  
When Phoebus rose to pass the time, and pass my grief away  
I took my Pen and penned the Dream that made my Muse's stay.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ Imprinted at London in S. bride's Churchyard, by Thomas 〈◊〉, for Ralph Newberry.  
And are to be sold at his shop in Fleetestrete, a little above the Conduit.  
1563. 15 Die Mensis March.   

¶ Faults escaped in the printing.  
¶ In the .5. Eglog, for Agon read Egon. ¶ In the .6. Eglog for Calicto, read Calisto. ¶ In the .7. Eglog, for Duerda and Guerda, read Diana, For Silvanus read Sylvan. For Seluagina, read Seluagia.  
¶ In the .2. epitaph, for sore, read sure. ¶ In. H. the .2. Page, & .15. line, for in, read on. H. v. Page .1. line, for foe, read for .4. line, for Cruelty, read cruelly. ¶ In. K .5. Page .12. line, for hores, read Horses.  
¶ Read these .8. lines at the end of the Sonnet. Onhis musing. etc.  
¶ Thou livest, but feelst no grief, no Love doth the torment,  
A happy thing for me it were, If God were so content.  
That thou with Pen, wert placed here and I sat in thy place,  
Then I should joy as thou dost now and thou shouldst wail thy case.