THE GOLDEN Garland of Princely pleasures and delicate Delights. Wherein is contained the Histories of many of the Kings, Queen's Princes, Lords, Ladies, Knights, and Gentlewomen of his Kingdom. Being most pleasant Songs and Sonnets to sundry new Tunes now most in use: The third time Imprinted, enlarged and corrected by Rich. johnson. Divided into two Parts.  
Printed at London by A. M. for Thomas Langley, are to be sold at his Shop over against the Saracens Head without Newgate. 1620.   


A Lamentable Song of the death of King LEER and his three DAUGHTERS.  
To the tune of, When flying Fame.  

KIng Leer once ruled in this Land,  
with princely power and peace  
And had all things with hearts content,  
that might his joys increase.  
Amongst those gifts that nature gave,  
three daughters fair had he,  
So princely seeming beautiful,  
as fairer could not be.   

So on a time it pleased the King,  
a question thus to move,  
Which of his daughters to his grace,  
could show the dearest love:  
For to my age you bring content,  
(quoth he) then let me hear,  
Which of you three in plighted troth,  
the kindest will appear.   

To whom the eldest thus began,  
dear father mine (quoth she)  
Before your face to do you good,  
my blood shall tendered be.  
And for your sake my bleeding heart,  
shall here be cut in twain,  
Ere that I see your reverend age,  
the smallest grief sustain.   

And so will I the second said,  
dear father, for your sake,  
The worst of all extremities,  
i'll gently undertake.  
And serve your highness' night and day,  
with diligence and love:  
That sweet content and quietness,  
discomforts may remove.   

In doing so you glad my soul,  
the aged King replied.  
But what sayst thou my youngest Girl,  
How is thy love allied.  
My love quoth young Cordela then,  
which to your grace I owe,  
Shall be the duty of a child,  
and that is all i'll show.   

And wilt thou show no more (quoth he)  
then doth thy duty bind:  
I well perceive thy love is small,  
when as no more I find.  
Hence forth I banish thee my Court,  
thou art no child of mine,  
Nor any part of this my Realm,  
by favour shall be thine.   

Thy elder sister's loves are more,  
than well I can demand:  
To whom I equally bestow,  
my kingdom and my land.  
My pompall state and all my goods,  
that lovingly I may  
With these thy sisters be maintained,  
until my dying day.   

Thus flattering speeches won renown,  
by these two sisters here:  
The third had ●anselesse banishment,  
yet was her love more dear:  
For poor Cordela patiently  
went wand'ring up and down,  
Unhelpt, unpitied, gentle maid.  
through many an English town.   

Until at last in famous France,  
she gentler fortunes found,  
Though poor and bare, yet was she deemed,  
the fairest on the ground:  
Where when the King her virtues heard,  
and his fair Lady seen,  
With full consent of all his Court,  
he made his wife and Queen.   

Her father, old King Leer, this while,  
with his two daughters stayed:  
Forgetful of their promised loves,  
full soon the same denied.  
And living in Queen Ragans Court,  
the elder of the twain,  
She took from him his chiefest means,  
and most of all his train.   

For whereas twenty men were wont,  
to wait with bended knee:  
She gave allowance but to ten,  
and after scarce to three.  
Nay, one she thought too much for him,  
so took she all away:  
In hope that in her Court, good King,  
he would no longer stay.   

Am I rewarded thus, quoth he,  
in giving all I have  
Unto my children, and to beg,  
for what I lately gave.  
I'll go unto my Gonorell,  
my second child I know,  
Will be more kind and pitiful,  
and will relieve my woe.   

Full fast he hies then to her Court,  
where when she heard his moan,  
Returned him answer, that she grieved,  
that all his means were gone.  
But no way could relieve his wants,  
yet if that he would stay.  
Within her Kitchen, he should have,  
what Scullions gave away.   

When he had heard with bitter tears,  
he made his answer then,  
In what I did let me be made  
example to all men.  
I will return again, quoth he  
unto my Ragans Court,  
She will not use me thus I hope,  
but in a kinder sort.   

Where when he came, she gave command,  
to drive him thence away▪  
When he was well within her Court,  
(she said) he could not stay.  
Then back again to Gonorell,  
the woeful King did high:  
That in her kitchen he might have  
what Scullion boys set by.   

But there of that he was denied,  
which she had promised late:  
For one refusing he should not,  
come after to her gate.  
Thus 'twixt his daughters for relief,  
he wandered up and down,  
Being glad to feed on beggar's food,  
that lately wore a Crown▪   

And calling to remembrance then,  
his youngest daughters words,  
That said, the duty of a child,  
had all that love affords.  
But doubting to repair to her,  
whom he had banished so:  
Grew frantic mad, for in his mind,  
he bore the wounds of woe.   

Which made him rend his milk while locks  
and tresses from his head:  
And all with blood bestame his cheeks,  
with age and honour spread:  
To hills, and woods, and watery founts,  
he made, his hourly moan:  
Till hills and woods, and senseless things,  
did seem to sigh and groan.   

Even thus possessed with discontents,  
he passed over to France,  
In hope from fair Cordela there,  
to find some gentler chance.  
Most virtuous dame, where when she heard,  
of this her father's grief:  
As duty bound, she quickly sent  
him comfort and relief.   

And by a train of noble Peers,  
in bran and gallant sort,  
She gave in charge he should be brought  
to Aganippus Court.  
Her royal King, whose noble mind,  
so freely gave consent,  
To muster up his knights at arms  
to fame and courage bend.   

And so to England came with speed,  
to repossess King Leer:  
And drive his daughters from their throne●  
by his Cordela dear.  
Where she true hearted noble Queen,  
was in the battle slain:  
Yet he good King in his old days  
possessed his crown again.   

But when he heard Cordela dead,  
who died indeed for love  
Of her dear father, in whose cause  
she did this battle move  
Heswounding fell upon her breast,  
from whence he never parted,  
But on her bosom left his life,  
that was so truly hearted.   

The Lords and Nobles when they saw,  
the end of these events:  
The other Sisters unto death,  
they doomed by consents  
And being dead, their crowns were left,  
unto the next of kin,  
Thus have you heard the fall of ●ride  
and disobedient sin.   
FINIS.   

A new Song of the wooing of Queen Katherine, by a gallant young Gentleman of Wales named Owen Tudor: lately translated out of Welsh into our English phrase.  
To the tune o● Light in le●● Ladies.  Owen Tudor. 
I Salute thee, sweet Princess, with titles of grace,  
For Cupid commands me in heart to embrace  
Thy honours, thy virtues, thy favour, and beauty,  
With all my true service, my love and my duty.  Queen Katherine. 
Courteous kind gentleman, let me request,  
How comes it that Cupid hath wounded thy breast,  
And chained thy hearts liking, my servant to prove,  
That am but a stranger in this thy kind love.  Owen Tudor. 
If but a stranger, yet love hath such power,  
To lead me here kindly unto a Queen's bower,  
Then do not (sweet Princess) my good will forsake  
When nature commands thee a true love to take.  Queen Katherine. 
So royal of calling, and birth I am known.  
That matching unequal, my state is o'erthrown,  
My titles of dignity thereby I lose,  
To wed me and bed me, my equal I'll choose.  Owen Tudor. 
No honours are lost, Queen, in choosing of me,  
For I am a gentleman borne by degree,  
And favours of Princes my s●ate may advance,  
In making me noble by fortunate chance.  Queen Katherine. 
My robes of rich honours most brave to behold,  
Are all over embossed with silver and gold,  
Not therewith adorned I lose my renown,  
With all the brave titles that waits on a Crown.  Owen Tudor. 
My Country sweet Princess more pleasure affords  
Then can be expressed here by me in words:  
Such kindly contentments by nature there springs  
That hath been well liked of Queens & of King's  Queen Katherine. 
My courtly attendants, are trains of delight,  
Like stars of fair heaven all shining most bright:  
And those that live daily such pleasures to see,  
Suppose no such comforts in country can be.  Owen Tudor. 
In Wales we have fountains no crystal more clear  
Where murmuring music we daily may hear:  
With gardens of pleasure, and flowers so sweet,  
Where true love with true love may merrily meet.  Queen Katherine. 
But there is no tilting nor tornaments bold,  
Which gallant young Ladies desire to behold:  
No masks nor no revels where favours are worn  
By Knights or by Barons without any scorn.  Owen Tudor. 
Our Maypoles at Whitsuntide maketh good sport,  
And moves as sweet pleasure as yours do in court:  
Where on the green dancing for garland and ring,  
Maidens make pastime and sports for a King.  Queen Katherine. 
But when your brave young men & maidens do meet,  
Your music is clownish and soundeth not sweet,  
UUhilest silver-like melody murmuring keeps  
And rocks up our senses in heavenly sicepes.  Owen Tudor. 
Our Harps & our Tabors & sweet humming drones,  
For thee my sweet Princess make musical moans:  
Our Morris-Maid Marrians desire for to see  
A True-love-knot tied betwixt thee and me.  Queen Katherine. 
No pleasures in Country by me can be seen  
That have been maintained so long here a Queen,  
And fed on the blessings that daily were given  
Into my brave Palace by Angels from heaven.  Owen Tudor. 
Our green leaved trees will dance with the wind,  
Where birds sit rejoicing according to kind,  
Our sheep with their Lambs will skip it full round,  
To see thee come tripping along on the ground.  Queen Katherine. 
What if a kind Princess should so be content,  
By meekness thus moved to give her consent:  
And humble her honours, imbace her degree,  
To tie her best fortunes brave Tudor to thee.  Owen Tudor. 
If to a Kingdom I borne were by birth,  
And had at commandment all nations on earth,  
Their crowns & their sceptres should lie at thy feet  
And thou be made Empress, my darling so sweet.  Queen Katherine. 
I fear yet to fancy thy love tempting tongue,  
For Cupid is cunning, his bow very strong,  
Queen Venus once mistress of heart wishing pleasure  
We over kind women repent us at leisure.  Owen Tudor. 
May never fair morning show forth his bright beams,  
But cover my falsehood with darkest extremes.  
If not as the Turtle I live with my Dove,  
My gentle kind Princess, my L●dy, my Love..  Queen Katherine. 
Hie then into Wales and our wedding provide,  
For thou art my Bridegroom, & I'll be thy Bride,  
Get gloves and five ribbons with bridelaces fair,  
Of silk and of silver for Ladies to wear.  Owen Tudor. 
With garlands of Roses, our huswifely wives,  
To have thee adorned all lovingly strives,  
Their bridecakes be ready, our bagpipes do play,  
Whilst I stand attending to lead thee the way.  Both together. 
Then mark how the notes of our merry town bells  
Our dingdong of pleasure most cheerfully tells:  
Then dingdong fair Ladies and lovers all true,  
This dingdong of pleasure may satisfy you.  
FINIS.   

A Princely song of King Richard Cordelion King of England, of his bold courage, and lamentable death.  
To the tune of, You Bachelors that brave it.  

OF a noble Christian Warrior,  
King Richard of this Land,  
For fame amongst our worthies brave,  
now orderly may stand:  
The God of battles gave him still  
a gallant great command,  
To fight for our Saviour jesus Christ,   

Richard Cordelion in this Land,  
a noble English name,  
That fills the world with wonders great,  
with honour and with fame,  
Then gallantly good Soldiers all,  
come thunder out the same,  
That fights for our Saviour jesus Christ   

When as fair Jerusalem,  
the City of our Lord,  
Lay mourning all in heaviness,  
consumed by the sword.  
To succour her, all Christendom  
did willingly accord,  
And to fight for our Saviour jesus Christ.   

Then marched forth most brave and bold,  
King Richard from this land:  
Of noble Knights and Gentlemen,  
with him a warlike band:  
To fight for jesus Christ his name,  
so long as they could stand,  
All soldiers of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

But by the way such chances then,  
King Richard did betide:  
That many of his soldiers,  
for want of victual died:  
A new supply this noble King,  
wa● forced to provide.  
To fight for our Saviour jesus Christ   

The mighty Duke of Austria.  
to whom he came for aid,  
For all his Kingly courtesies,  
his succours were denayed.  
But took him prisoner cowardly,  
where ransom must be paid,  
And not fight for our Saviour jesus Christ   

His noble Knights and Soldiers then,  
with sorrow went away:  
Woefully complaining all,  
that ere they saw that day:  
That such a Noble King as he,  
a prisoner there should stay,  
And not fight for our Saviour jesus Christ.   

While they were here providing  
a ransom for his Grace,  
The Dukes own Son unreverently,  
King Richard did abase:  
For which with one small box o'th' ear,  
he killed him in that place,  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

With that into a Dungeon deep,  
this noble King was cast:  
While as a Lion (all in rage)  
provided was in haste,  
To combat with this famous King,  
so long as life did last,  
The soldier of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

But gentle pity moved much,  
the Daughter of the Duke:  
Whom deeply wounded was with love,  
proceeding from his look,  
For which to save his Princely life,  
she kindly undertook:  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

A rich embroidered scarf of silk,  
she secretly conuaid,  
Into the Dungeon where the King,  
his execution stayed:  
The which to save his gentle life,  
an instrument was made.  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ,   

For when the hunger starved beast,  
into the Dungeon came:  
With open mouth to swallow him,  
he nimbly took the same:  
And stoutly thrust it down his throat,  
the Lion thus to tame.  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

And so with valiant courage, he  
pulled out the Lion's heart:  
Which made the Duke and all his Lords,  
in fearful manner start:  
To see this royal English King,  
to play so brave a part:  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

I am no prisoner said the King,  
for I am now set free:  
The country and our law of Arms,  
commands it so to be.  
And thus to Englan● blessed Land,  
most joyfully went he.  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

But left hi● 〈…〉 love behind,  
that 〈…〉 his life,  
With 〈…〉 return again,  
to 〈…〉 then his wife:  
But fel● 〈…〉 and bloody war.  
did breed them further strife.  
In fight for our Saviour jesus Christ▪   

The noble hearts of Englishmen,  
that could endure no wrong:  
For good King Richard mustered then,  
a vailant Army strong,  
To pass the seas to A●on Walls,  
to lay the same along,  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

So first consuming fire and sword,  
into that country came,  
Destroying all their Cities brave  
and towns of ancient fame:  
Till those the wrongs King Richard had▪  
were righted by the same.  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

But in his prime of Martial w●rth,  
this noble King was slain,  
For wounded with a poisoned shaft,  
that pierced his Princely brain,  
Much sorrowing moan was long 〈◊〉  
amongst his warlike train.  
Still fight for our Saviour jesus   

But chiefly by his Lady fair  
so loyal and so kind:  
That nothing but revenge thereof  
possessed still her mind:  
To know the causer of his death,  
were rich rewards assigned.  
Thus to honour our Saviour jesus Christ.   

Upon the murderer being fow●d  
much cruelty was shown:  
By her command his skin alive,  
was flayed from flesh and bone:  
And after unto eyrie fowls  
his body it was thrown:  
In honour of our Saviour jesus Christ.   

Yet ended not this Lady's grief,  
for him she loud so dear:  
Deep sorrows even broke her heart,  
as plainly did appear:  
And both were buried in one grave,  
thus true loves end you hear.  
That died for our Saviour jesus Christ.   

Did ever Lady for her love,  
more strangely undertake:  
Did ever Daughter in this kind  
a grieved father make:  
Did ever Princess end her life,  
thus for her true love's sake.  
And for our Saviour jesus Christ.   
FINIS.   

A gallant Song of the Garter of England and how it was made first an honour to this Kingdom by King Edward the third.  
To the tune of, When Arthur first, etc.  

WHen as third Edward ruled this Land:  
And was our English king:  
He had good speed in all his fight  
brave conquest home to bring:  
Two Kingly Crowns upon his sword,  
In sumptuous sort was borne:  
Most gallantly to grace the third,  
that on his head was worn.   

Thus three in one made England's same,  
through all the world to shine:  
Which well might claim a titled grace,  
amongst our worthies nine:  
Seven princely Sons he likewise had,  
whose virtues won him praise,  
From one fair Queen descended all,  
in beauty's blooming days,   

His Earls and Barons bravely ●ent,  
to practise Knightly deeds:  
To break the Lance to run at Ring,  
to back their barbed steeds:  
Which made the world think, Mars his Court  
was kept in England here  
When England's Peers made foreign lands  
to quake with trembling fear.   

King Edward's reign rung echoing thus,  
through every Christian Court,  
Of whom the noblest Prince that lived  
gave sounds of brave report.  
Right valiant King, himself likewise,  
his Country to advance:  
With many of his Peers arrived,  
within the Court of France.   

And there by Tilts and Tourneys brave,  
such honours did obtain,  
As Mars himself in glistering steel,  
the prize from them would gain:  
So brave and bold his Barons were,  
and so successful then,  
That none of all the Lords of Frame,  
were like our English men.   

Thus many months he with his Peers  
spent there with brave delights,  
Whose daily sports concluded were  
by revelling at nights:  
Where Measure and Carantoes fine,  
so graced the Court of France:  
As if Queen juno with her jove,  
had bravely led the dance.   

Amongst which glorious troop of Dames,  
that richly sat to see,  
The French Queen there above the rest  
the fairest seemed to be,  
Whom English Edward by the hand,  
in courteous manner took,  
To dance withal, at which the French,  
gave many a scornful look.   

But Edward still like Mars himself,  
with countenance and grace,  
By Courtship won great liking there,  
from all within that place.  
King Edward pleased the Princely Queen  
the Queen king Edward well,  
But as they daunct, there from her leg,  
by chance her garter fell.   

The which king Edward soon took up,  
And it in kindness wore,  
For favour and for courtesies  
he to her virtues bore.  
But some there present gave forth words▪  
The Queen of purpose lost  
Her garter there for him to find  
whom she affected most.   

But when she heard these ill conceits  
And speeches that they made,  
Honey soyt qui maly pens,  
the noble Princes said.  
Ill hap to them that evil think,  
In English it is thus  
Which words so wise (quoth England's King)  
shall surely go with us,   

And for her sake shall England's Peers,  
In honour of our land,  
A Garter wear, and in the same,  
these words in gold shall stand.  
That all the world may nobly speak,  
Our garter came from France,  
In Princely manner named thus,  
our Country to advance.   

The Tilts and Revels thus had end,  
That long had lasted there:  
And home our King and Nobles came  
with mirth and meery cheer:  
Where soon he bravely did create,  
Full many a Lordly Knight,  
To wear this golden Garter fair,  
So sumptuous and so bright.   

And named them S. Georgies knights,  
And of this Garter brave:  
As noble an order of estate,  
as any King can have,  
Which Knights upon S. George's day,  
Still their precession goes,  
Through England's Court in robes of gold  
and most delightful shoes.   

At Windsor is this Order kept,  
Where kings be of the same,  
And foreign Princes much desire,  
the honours of that name.  
Third Edward first began this grace,  
of knighthood to his praise:  
Which still is kept with high renown,  
in our King james his days.   

Ten English Kings have been thereof,  
of Princes and of Peers  
A number great, whose honours lived,  
most brave in ancient years:  
And at this day of Dukes and Lords,  
our land hath honoured store:  
Whose names and fames the Lord increase  
and make them more and more.   
FINIS.   

A lamentable Ditty on the death of the Lord Guildford Dudley, and the Lady jane Grace, that for their parent's ambition, in seeking to make these two young Prince's King and Queen of England, were both beheaded in the Tower of London.  
To the tune of, Peter and Parnell.  

WHen as King Edward left this life  
In young and tender blooming years▪  
Began such deadly hate and strife,  
That filled England full of fears:  
Ambition in those ancient days.  
More than ten thousand, thousand, thousand  
thousand troubles did arise.   

Northumberland being made a Duke,  
Ambitiously doth seek the crown,  
And Suffolk for the same did look,  
To put Queen Mary's title down.  
That was King Henry's daughter bright,  
And Queen of England, England, England  
and King Edward's heir by right.   

Lord Guildford and the Lady jane,  
Were wedded by their parents wils  
The right from Mary so was ta'en,  
Which drew them on to further ills:  
But mark the end of this misdeed,  
Mary was crowned, crowned, crowned,  
and they to death decreed.   

And being thus adjudged to die  
For these their parents haughty aims,  
That thinking thus to mount on high,  
Their children King & Queen proclaims,  
But in such aims no blessings be,  
When as ten thousand, thousand, thousand,  
their shameful end see.   

Sweet Princes they deserved no blame,  
That thus must die for father's cause:  
And bearing of so great a name  
To contradict our English laws,  
Let all men than conclude in this  
That they are hapless hapless, hapless,  
whose parents do amiss.   

Now who more great than they of late  
Now who more wretched than they are:  
And who more lofty in estate,  
Thus suddenly consumed with care:  
Then Princes all set down this rest,  
And say the golden golden golden,  
golden means is always best.   

Prepared at last drew on the day  
Whereon these Princes both must die  
Lord Guildford Dudley by the way  
His dearest Lady did espy  
Whilst he unto the block did go  
She in her window, weeping, weeping,  
did lament his woe.   

Their eyes that looked for love erewhile,  
Now blubbered were with pearled tears,  
And every glance and loners smile  
Where turned to dole and deadly fears:  
Lord Guilford's life did bleeding lie,  
Expecting Angels, Angels, Angels.  
silver wings to mount on high.   

His dearest Lady long did look,  
When she likewise to block should go,  
Where sweetly praying on her book,  
She made no sign of outward woe:  
But wished that she had Angels wings,  
To see that golden, golden, golden,  
sight of heavenly things.   

And mounting on the Scaffold then,  
Where Guilford's liveless body lay:  
I come (quoth she) thou flower of men.  
For death shall not my soul dismay:  
The gates of heaven stand open wide,  
To rest for ever, and ever, and ever,  
and thus these gentle Princes died.   

Their parents likewise lost their heads,  
For climbing thus one step too high:  
Ambitious towers have slippery leads,  
And fearful to a wise man's eye.  
For once amiss great houses fall,  
Therefore take warning, warning, warning  
by this you gallants all.   
FINIS.   

A joyful song of the deserved praises of good Queen Elizabeth, how Princely she behaved herself at Tilbury Camp in 88 when the Spaniards threatened the invasion of this Kingdom.  
To the tune of, King Henry's going to Bulloyne▪  

OF a Noble, Noble Princess,  
England's late commanding Mistress,  
King Henry's daughter, fair Elizabeth▪  
She was such a maiden Queen,  
As her like was never seen,  
of any womankind upon the earth.   

Her name in golden numbers▪  
May written be with wonders  
that lived beloved four and forty years  
And had the gift of nature all  
That to a Princess might befall,  
as by her noble virtues well appears.   

With Majesty admired,  
Her subjects she required,  
that love for love might equally be shown  
Preferring a public peace,  
Then any private man's increase,  
that quietly we still may keep our own.   

UUen Ambassies did come  
From any Prince in Chris●endome,  
her entertainments were so Princely sweet  
She likewise knew what did belong  
To every language speech and tongue,  
where grace & virtue did together meet.   

No Princess more could measure,  
Her well beseeming pleasure.  
in open Court amongst her Ladies fair:  
For music and for portly gate  
The world afforded not her mate,  
so excellent her carriage was and fair.   

Kingly states oppressed,  
And such as were distressed,  
with means and money daily she relieved:  
As law of Nations did her bind,  
To strangers she was ever kind,  
and such as with calamities were grieved   

And when into this kingdom,  
Bloody wars did threatening come,  
her highness would be ready with good will  
As it in eighty eight was seen,  
When as this thrice renowned Queen  
gave noble courage to her soldiers still.   

This more than worthy woman,  
Like to a noble Amazon:  
in silver plated Armour bravely went  
Unto her Camp at Tilbery,  
With many Knights of Chivalry,  
courageously her Army to content.   

But being there arrived,  
With noble heart she strived:  
to give them all what they desired to have  
A lovely grace and countenance,  
Smiling with perseverance,  
to whom so sweet a countenance she gave.   

Upon a Drumhead sitting,  
As it was best befiting  
for such a royal Princes thus to speak:  
A Soldier I will live and dye,  
Fear shall never make me ●●ye,  
nor any danger leave to undertake.   

With that amidst the Battle,  
The Musquetires did rattle,  
a peal of powder flaming all in fire:  
The Cannons they did loudly play.  
To please her Majesty that day:  
which she in heart did lovingly desire.   

Her highness thus delighted,  
She royally requited  
the noble captains and the sould●ers all:  
For golden Angels flew amain.  
Round about the warlike train▪  
each one rewarded was both great & small.   

With that in noble manner,  
To England's fame and honour▪  
the thundering shot began to play again,  
And for this royal prince's sake,  
Rattling made the ground to shake▪  
in spite of all their enemies of Spain.   

The more to be commended,  
She graciously befriended,  
full many a worthy gentlemen that day:  
By knighting them in noble sort,  
As it had been in England's court,  
such gallant graces had she every way.   

So freely kind and loving,  
She was by her approving,  
to rich & poor that came unto her grace:  
Not any one but found her still,  
A friend to good, a foe to ill,  
and ever virtue sweetly would embrace.   

But now in heaven's high Palace,  
She lives in joy and solace,  
committing all her charge unto the King:  
Of whose admired Majesty,  
Ruling us so quietly,  
rejoicingl we Subjects all do sing.   
FINIS.   

A new Song of the strange lives of two young Princes in England, who became two Shepherds upon Salisbury Plain, and after restored to their former estates.  
To the Tune of the Merchants man.  

IN Kingly Stephen's reign,  
Two royal Dukes there was:  
That all our other English Lords,  
for greatness far did pass.  
The one of Devonshire named,  
that had a daughter fair:  
Which he appointed at his death,  
to be his only heir.   

And her in love commits,  
Unto the Cornwall Duke:  
Whom he with tenderness and care,  
most kindly undertook.  
The promise being made,  
The Duke of Devonshire dies:  
And all that Cornwall vowed to do▪  
he afterwards denies.   

Yet well he educates the Maid,  
That Maudlin she was grown:  
The fairest Lady under Heaven,  
for beauty being known.  
And many Princes sought for love,  
But none might her obtain:  
For covetous Cornwall to himself,  
the dukedom sought to gain.   

So on a time Prince Raymond chanced,  
This comely dame to see:  
With whom he fell so deep in love,  
as any Prince might be.  
Unhappy youth what should he do,  
She still was kept in mew:  
Nor he nor any of his friends,  
admitted to her view.   

One while he melancholy pines,  
Himself with grief away:  
Anon he thinks by force of Arms,  
to win her if he may.  
Until at length commanding love,  
Became to be his judge:  
And changed him soon from Lordly state,  
into a kitchen drudge.   

And so access had he good Prince,  
Her purpose to bewray:  
But still fair Maudlin's answer was,  
she husbandless would stay.  
Mean while her Guardian beat his brains,  
Her dukedom to achieve:  
Nor caring what became of her,  
so he by her might thrive.   

And so resolving that she should,  
Unto some peasant wed:  
And Raymond then supposed a drudge,  
should stand him in that stead▪  
But Maudlin marking his intent,  
Unkindly takes that he,  
Should bar the noblest match from her,  
thus for a base degree.   

The Lady shifting cut of dor●●,  
Departed thence by stealth:  
Then thus with baseness for a match,  
that might have lived in wealth,  
When Raymond heard of her escape,  
With sad and grie●e● heart:  
He left the palace of the Duk●,  
and after did depart.   

Forgetful of himself and birth,  
His country friends and all:  
And minding only her to seek,  
that thus had prou●d his thrall:  
Nor means he after to frequent,  
The court of stately towns:  
But lived with pinch cares and grief,  
among the country grounds.   

A brace of years upon that plain,  
Near Salisbury that lies:  
In great content with feeding flocke●,  
a shepherd's life he tries,  
In hope his love thereby to waste,  
But than began again,  
With●● his heart a second love,  
the worse of the twain.   

A country wench, a Neatheards' maid,  
Where Raymond kept his sheep:  
Did feed her droue with whom this prince,  
in love was wounded deep.  
Where sitting on the downy plain,  
And having small to do:  
These shepherds there in friendly sort,  
thus plainly 'gan to woe.   

I know fair maid (quoth Raymond then,  
And thou aswell as I,  
No maid there is that willingly,  
with maidenhead would dye.  
The Ploughman's labour hath no end,  
And he will churlish prove:  
The tradesman hath more wo●ke inhand,  
then doth belong to love.   

The Merchant venturing abroad,  
Suspects his wife at home:  
A youth will still the wanton play,  
an old man prove a mome:  
Then choose a shepherd (honey girl,  
Whose life is merriest still:  
For merrily he spends his days,  
thus on the fair green hill.   

And then at night when day is done,  
Goes home from thence betime:  
And in the fire turns a cra●,  
and sings some merry rhyme▪  
Nor lacks he tales, whiles round about,  
The nut-drowne bowl doth troth:  
And sitteth singing care away,  
till he to bed be got▪   

There sleeps he sound all the night,  
Forgetting morrow's cares:  
Nor fears the blasting of his corn,  
nor uttering of his wares.  
And this I know full well fair Lass,  
More quiet nights and days,  
The shepherd sleeps and wakes then he  
whose cattle he doth graze.   

A King I see is but a man,  
And so sweet Lass am I,  
Content is worth a Monarchy,  
and mischiefs shoot full hie.  
As late it did unto a Duke,  
Not dwelling far from hence,  
Who had a daughter save thyself,  
on earth the fairest wench▪   

With that good soul he stayed and sight,  
Speak on quoth she and tell,  
How fair she was and who she was,  
that thus did hear the bell:  
She was (quoth he) of stately grace,  
Of countenance most fair,  
No maid alive for beauties prise▪  
may well with her compare.   

A Globe-like head, a golden hair▪  
A forehead smooth and high:  
A seemly nose, on either side  
did shine a graish eie.  
Two rosy cheeks and ruddy lips,  
White ivory teeth within:  
A mouth in mean and underneath  
a round and dimpled chin.   

A snowwhite neck with bluish veins,  
To make her seem more fair:  
Yea all her body framed so fine,  
that earth had none more rare.  
For life, for love, for form and face,  
None fairer was than she:  
And none but only she alone,  
so fair a maid could be.   

I knew the Lady well quoth she,  
But worthless of such praise:  
But credit we no shepherd thou,  
thy speeches so bewrays.  
With that he wept and she was woe,  
And both did silence keep:  
And equally perplexed in love,  
they sat them down to weep.   

In sooth quoth he I am not such,  
As s●eming I profess:  
To be a prince's son by birth,  
my liking shows no less.  
In Scotland is my father's court,  
And Raymond is my name:  
With cornewal's duke I lived in pomp,  
till love controlled the same.   

And did this Lady dear love,  
Though she not loved me:  
But all that love is wasted quite,  
and now I die for thee.  
I grant quoth she you loved her well,  
If that your love were such:  
Yet think of me your second love,  
in love to be as much.   

Your twice beloved Maudlin here,  
Submits herself to thee,  
And what she could not at the first,  
the second time shall be:  
In fortune, not in person changed,  
For I am still the same,  
In heart and mind as chaste and true,  
as first to me you came.   

Thus sweetly surfeiting in joy,  
They tenderly embrace:  
And for their wished wedding day,  
found fitting time and place.  
And so these lovely princes both,  
Each other did befriend,  
Where after many a hard mishap,  
there loves had joyful end.   
FINIS.   

A Song of the deposing of King Richard the second, and how after many miseries he was murdered in Pomfret Castle▪  
To the tune of regard my sorrows.  

WHen Richard the second in England was King  
And reigned with honour & state:  
Six uncles he had his Grandfather's sons,  
King Edward's that ruled of late.  
All Counsellors noble and sage,  
yet would he not hear  
their precepts dear,  
So wilful he was in this his young age.   

A sort of brave gallants he kept in his court  
That trained him to wanton delight,  
Which parasites pleased him better in mind  
then all his best Nobles and Knights:  
Ambition and avarice grew  
so great in this land,  
that still from his hand,  
A mass of rich treasure his parasites drew.   

His peers and his barons dishonoured were  
And upstarts thus mounted on high:  
His commons sore taxed his cities oppressed,  
good subjects were nothing set by:  
And what to his Coffers did come,  
he wantonly spent,  
to please with content,  
His flattering upstarts still sporting at home   

When thus unto ruin this kingdom began  
To fall from the highest estate:  
The Nobles of England their Princes amiss,  
by parliament soon did rebate.  
And likewise those flatterers all,  
they banished the court,  
that made but a sport,  
To see this so famous a Kingdom to fall▪   

But after these galltans' disgraded were thus  
King Richard himself was put down,  
And Bullenbrooke Lankasters noble borne Duke,  
by policy purchased his crown:  
Thus civil wars here begun,  
that could have no end,  
by foe nor by friend,  
Till 7. kings reigns with their lives were out run▪   

But Richard the breeder of all these same broils,  
In prison was woefully cast:  
Where long he complained in sorrowful sort  
of Kingly authority past:  
No Lords nor no subjects bad he,  
no glory, no state,  
that early and late,  
Upon him attending had wont for to be.   

His robes were converted to garments so old,  
That beggars would hardly them wear:  
His diet no comfort at all to him brought,  
for he fed upon sorrow and care:  
And from prison to prison was sent,  
each day and each night.  
to work him despite,  
That wearied with sorrows, he still might lament.   

Good king thus abused he was at the last,  
To Pomfret in Yorkshire conuaid:  
And there in a dungeon full low in the ground  
unpitied he nightly was laid.  
Not one for his misery grieved,  
that late was in place,  
of royalest grace,  
Where still the distressed he kindly relieved,   

King Henry usurping thus all his estate,  
Could never in heart be content,  
Till some of his friends in secrecy sought,  
to kill him by cruel consent:  
Who sooke to Pomfret hi●d,  
where as the fear,  
that touched him so near,  
They finished so soon as K. Richard there died   

There died this good king, for murderer he was  
That might well have lived full long,  
Had not ill counsel betrayed his best good,  
and done his high fortunes this wrong:  
But blood for blood still calls,  
no bloody stained hand,  
ran long in this land,  
Stand surely, but soon unto misery falls.   

Lankaster thus the Diadem gained,  
And won his title by blood:  
Which after by heavens ●ight power,  
not three generations stood:  
But yielded to York again,  
thus fortune shows,  
their proud over throws,  
That cunningly climbs an imperial reign▪   
FINIS.   

A song of an English Knight, that married the royal Princess, Lady Mary, sister to King Henry the eight, which Knight was afterward made Duke of Suffolk.  
To the Tune of, Who list to lead a Soldier's life.  

EIght Henry ruling in this land,  
he had a sister fair:  
That was the widowed King of France,  
enriched with virtue's ear.  
And being come to England● Court,  
She oft beheld a Knight,  
Charles Brandon named, in whose fair eyes,  
she chiefly took delight.   

And noting in her Princely mind,  
His gallent sweet behaviour:  
She daily drew him by degrees,  
still more and more in favour:  
Which he perceiving (courteous Knight)  
Found fitting time and place,  
And thus in amorous sort began,  
his love sure to her grace,   

I aim at love fair Queen said he,  
Sweet let your love incline:  
That by your grace Charles Brandon may  
on earth be made divine:  
If worthless I might worthy be,  
To have so good a lot:  
To please your highness in true love,  
my fancy doubteth not.   

Or if that gentry might convey  
So great a grace to me:  
I can maintain the same by birth▪  
being come of good degree:  
If wealth you think be all my want,  
Your highness hath great ●●ore:  
And my supplement shall be love,  
what can you wish for more.   

It hath been known when hearty love,  
Did tie the true love knot  
Though now if gold and silver want  
the marriage proveth not  
The goodly Queen hereat did blus●▪  
But made a dumb reply:  
Which he imagined what she meant  
and kissed her reverently.   

Brandon (quoth she) I greater am,  
Then would I were for thee:  
But can as little master love,  
as them of low degree,  
My father was a King, and so  
A King my husband was,  
My brother is the like, and he  
will say I do transgress.   

But let him say what pleaseth him.  
His liking i'll forgo,  
And choose a love to please myself,  
though all the world says no.  
If Ploughmen make their marriages▪  
As best contents their mind,  
Why should not princes of estate,  
the like contentment find?   

But tell me Brandon am I not  
More forward than beseems▪  
Yet blame me not for love I love,  
where best my fancy deems▪  
And long may live quoth he to love,  
Nor longer live may I,  
Then when I love your royal grace,  
and then disgraced dye.   

But if I do deserve your love▪  
My mind desires dispatch:  
For many are the eyes in Court,  
that on your beauty watch.  
But am not I sweet Lady now,  
More fancy than behoves:  
Yet for my heart forgive my tongue,  
that speaks for him that loves.   

The Queen and this brave Gentleman,  
Together both did wed,  
And after sought the king's good will,  
and of their wishes sped.  
For Brandon soon was made a Duke▪  
and graced so in court:  
Then who but he did f●ant it forth,  
amongst the noblest sort.   

And so from princely Brandon's line,  
and mary's did proceed:  
The noble race of Suffolk's house,  
as after did succeed.  
From whose high blood the Lady jane,  
Lord Guildford Dudleyes' wife,  
Came by descent, who with her Lord,  
in London lost her life.   
FINIS.   

A Song of the life and death of King Rich●●d the third, who after many murders by him committed upon the Princes and Nobles of this Land, was slain at the battle of Bosworth in Leicester shire by Henry the seventh King of England.  
To the tune of, Who list to lead a Soldier's life,  

IN England once there reigned a King,  
A Tyrant fir●e and sell:  
Who for to gain himself a Crown,  
gave sure his soul to hell:  
Third Richard was this Tyrant's name,  
the worst of all the three:  
That wrought such deeds of deadly dole  
that worse could not be.   

For his desires were still (by blood)  
to be made Endglands' King,  
Which here to gain that go●den prize,  
did many a wondrous thing:  
He slaughtered up our noble Peers,  
and chiefest in this Land:  
With every one that likely was,  
his title to withstand.   

Four bloody fields the Tyrant sought,  
ere he could bring to pass▪  
What he made lawless claim unto,  
as his best liking was:  
sixth Henries Princely son he slew,  
Before his father's face:  
And weeded from our English throne,  
all his renowned race.   

This King likewise in London's Tower  
he murdering made away  
His brother Duke of Clarence life,  
he also did betray:  
With those right noble Prince's swain,  
King Edward's children dear:  
Because to England's royal Crown,  
he thought them both too near.   

His own dear wife also he slew,  
Incestuously to wed:  
His own dear daughter which for fear,  
away from him was fled.  
And made such havoc in this land,  
Of all the Royal blood,  
That only one was left unslain,  
to have his claims withstood.   

Earl Richmond he by heaven preserved,  
To right his Country's wrong:  
From France prepared full well to fight,  
brought o'er an Army strong.  
To whom Lord Stanley nobly came,  
With many an English Peer:  
And joined their forces in one,  
Earl Richmond's heart to cheer.   

Which news when as the Tyrant heard  
How they were come on shore.  
And how their forces day by day,  
increased more and more.  
He frets, he fumes, and ragingly,  
A madding fury shows,  
And thought it but in vain to stay,  
and so to battle goes.   

Earl Richmond he in order brave,  
His fearless army laid,  
In midst of whom these noble words,  
their valiant leader said:  
Now is the time and place sweet friends,  
And we the soldiers be,  
That must bring England's peace again,  
or lose our lives must we▪   

Be valiant then, we fight for fame,  
And for our country's good,  
Against a Tyrant marked with shame,  
for shedding England's blood.  
I am right heir of Lancaster,  
Entitled to the Crown,  
Against this bloody Boar of York,  
then let us win renown.   

Mean while had furious Richard set,  
His army in array,  
And with a ghastly look of fear,  
he stoutly thu● did say:  
Shall Henry Richmond with his troops,  
Ore-match us thus by might:  
That comes with fearful cowardice,  
with us thi● day to fight.   

Shall Tudor from Plantagenet,  
Win thus the crown away:  
No Richards noble wind foretells,  
that ours will be the day.  
For Golden crowns we bravely fight,  
And gold shall be their gain:  
In great abundance given to them,  
that lives this day unslain.   

These words being spoke the battles joined  
Where blows they bravely change:  
And Richmond like a Lion bold,  
performed wonders strange:  
And made such slaughters through the camp  
Till he King Richard spi●s,  
Who fight long together there,  
at last the Tyrant dies.   

Thus ended England's woeful War,  
Usurping Richard dead:  
King Henry fair Elizabeth,  
in princely sort did wed.  
For he was then made England's King,  
And she his crowned Queen:  
So 'twixt these houses long at strife  
a unity was seen.   
FINIS.   

A Lamentable Song of Lady Elinor, daughter to the Duke of Buckingham, who died for love of one Captain jenkenson that had been a Prentice of London, who went to the siege of jerusalem with Edward the first, than King of England.  
To the tune of Rogero.  

IN England lived once a Duke,  
That had a daughter brave:  
To whom his Dukedom and estate.  
he from all others gave,  
And dying left fair Elinor,  
To be his only heir:  
Wh●se mind upon a Captain's love,  
was settled deep and dear.   

This Captain gallant jenkenson.  
By name then called so:  
In prison lay for want of means,  
and money he did owe.  
But love so dear assailed her,  
That she must love or dye▪  
And none but only he alive,  
within her heart did lie.   

So watching fit convenient time,  
She to the prison went:  
And underneath his window then,  
full many a tear she spent.  
But entering in her eyes beheld  
The image of her heart:  
To whom her love and liking soon  
She friendly did impart.   

And having made her purpose known,  
My dearest friend (quoth she:)  
I have ta'en order for thy debts,  
and here I set thee free.  
With all my land, my love and life,  
And whatsoe'er is mine:  
Take all and give me liberty,  
that here have caused thine.   

No sooner was he got at large,  
And wealth relieved his woe:  
But thence unto jerusalem,  
did England's Edward go.  
With whom this Captain jenkenson,  
Was nobly entertained:  
And so unkindly went from her,  
as one whom he disdained.   

Which when she heard, she tore her hair,  
And cast her on the ground,  
And being overpress with grief,  
she fell into a sound▪  
But afterward recovering sense,  
This Letter she did write:  
And sent it after him to read,  
as here I will recite.   
FINIS.   

The Letter.  
To the same tune▪  

WHat faults of mine have caused this,  
My dearest friend tell me:  
If I have been the means thereof  
then mournful may I be,  
My love thou knowest dear jenkenson  
Full many a Lord hath sought,  
Yet all have missed save thou alone,  
and thou setst me at naught.   

If thy de●●res be so to wars,  
Then war sweet love with me:  
For Cupid's gallant soldiers still,  
the sweetest warriors be:  
With thee I'll live, with thee I'll dye,  
With thee I'll lose or gain:  
Return sweet love for in thy life,  
Consists the lives of twain.   

Most wisely valiant are those men,  
That back their armed steeds,  
In Courtly tilts in time of peace,  
to break their staffs like reeds:  
Where not the dint of wounding swords,  
But some device of love,  
They may their manhoods courteously,  
before their Ladies prove.   

Where Ladies doff their lover's helms,  
And kiss where beavers hid:  
And parley under Canopies:  
how well or ill they did:  
Retire therefore retire sweetheart,  
Where if thou wilt be armed,  
Come fight upon my bosom here,  
and so escape unharmd.   

But now me thinks I see thy looks,  
Quite changed in thy face,  
Me thinks thy comeliness and gate  
hath lost their wont grace:  
methinks I see thy manly limbs,  
With Armours burden lame.  
And warlike weapons wounding deep,  
thy noble bosom maim.   

I see thee faint with Summers' heat,  
And droop with winter's cold:  
I see thee not as late thou wast,  
for young thou art grown old:  
And sorrow greatly for to know,  
What now I would not see,  
Thy dearest Lady thus in vain,  
to plead for love to thee.   

Thus when my griefs my sighs & tears,  
Shall come unto thy view,  
Then wilt thou find by these my pains,  
my love is dear and true.  
But these my words thou carest not for,  
I see thou art unkind:  
Yet here to ease my dying heart,  
in letters take my mind.    

Captain jenkinson's Answer.  

I have perusd I know not what,  
forsooth thy scroll of love:  
In hope by these thy flattering lines,  
My settled mind to move:  
But I disdain to talk of love,  
much less in love to be:  
For martial druins and warlike steeds,  
more better pleaseth me.   

The Bees that sweetest honey bears.  
have likewise smarting stings:  
And thou no whit dost want a bait,  
that to repentance brings.  
Content thee therefore Elinor,  
thou temperst love by art:  
Although it come unto mine eyes  
it shall not touch my heart.   

When sea shall flame, when Sun shall frée●e  
and mortal men shall die:  
And rivers overflow their banks,  
in love will then be I.  
When these shall be and I not be,  
then may I chance to love:  
And then the strangest change you'll see,  
that I a lover prove.   

Let beavers hide, not kisses hurt,  
my lips for lips unfit:  
Let wounded limbs not silken loves,  
on top of honour sit.  
I scorn a Soldier that should stoop  
to please a lover's mind:  
That fights for Fame in fields of blood  
should alter thus from kind.   

Yet some there be whose maiden hairs  
no sooner buds on chin,  
But they to love our Ladies fair  
do wantonly begin.  
And wins them soon who would be won  
and being won with speed:  
They gained have a crop of corn,  
that scarce is worth the seed,   

These love in sport but leave in spite,  
as I have found it true,  
And being thus so easily won,  
are changed for a new.  
But kindness must have kindest use,  
though kind be hardly one,  
Their kindness than I must refuse,  
because I will have none.   

And strange it were (a Soldier) I  
should love this English maid.  
The wonders seven should then be eight  
could love me so persuade:  
But love ere hate, fare ill or well,  
I thus conclude my mind:  
My welcome when I come to thee,  
Shall surely prove unkind.   

This Answer brought to Elinor,  
such inward sorrow bred:  
That she in reading of these lines  
poor Lady fell down dead.  
Where her dear love and gentle life,  
Had both together end:  
And as we may suppose in death,  
her soul did live his friend,   

For she by Will did him bequeath,  
Her substance and estate:  
Thus love b●ing grounded in the heart,  
can never turn to hate.  
Her wealth, her means, and all she had,  
This Captain did possess:  
Which brought unto his grieved soul,  
much woe and wretchedness.   

For coming from jerusalem,  
And entering on the same,  
To view what wealth the Lady left,  
he to her Chamber came:  
Where as the Lady's picture hung,  
With which he fell in love.  
And so the shadow wrought the thing,  
the substance could not move.   

Her courtesy and his despite,  
He calleth then to mind:  
And of her beauty being dead  
a sudden change did find:  
Remembering then his low degree,  
And reckoning her desert:  
He could not think but that he ●ore  
in love too proud a heart.   

Now love (qd ●he) though breathless she,  
Doth such a f●ame contrive:  
The which shall soon consume me quite,  
for I do burn alive.  
Alas than did he pause in tears,  
Oh take it from mine eye,  
This picture hath procured my death,  
and for the same must dye.   

For she that was the owner liure  
And died a lover true:  
Whose Ghost at parting could not choose,  
but say sweet love adieu.  
Adieu indeed kind gentle Dame,  
For lack of love that died:  
And left off living in that eye,  
her of my love denied.   

Thus by her picture pricked with love  
He felt continual woe  
And bearing it still in his hand  
he to her grave did go.  
Where sitting on the same he said,  
He loves the shadow now:  
Whose heart unto the substance late,  
would rather break then bow.   

Oh gods▪ I grant for this contempt  
I must endure your doom:  
And sacrifice mine own false heart  
upon my true love's tomb.  
Whose only beauty worthy was,  
To match without a dower:  
Yet she in vain did beg my love▪  
bookful many a weary hour.   

And having spoke these mournful words,  
A Tragedy to make:  
His dagger from his side in haste,  
he desperately did take:  
And to his heart he struck the same,  
With all his manly force:  
And so upon his true love's grave,  
was made a liveless coarse.   
Finis▪   

A Courtly new Song of the Princely wooing of the fair Maid of London by K. Edward.  
To the tune of, B●nny sweet Robin.  

Fair Angel of England, thy beauty so bright,  
Is all my heart's treasure, my joy and delight:  
Then grant me, sweet Lady, thy true love to be,  
That I may say welcome good fortune to me.   

The Turtle so pure and chaste in her love,  
By gentle persuasions her fancy will move:  
Then ●e not entreated, sweet Lady, in vain  
For nature requireth what I would obtain.   

What Phoenix so famous that liveth alone,  
Is vowed to chastity being but one?  
But be not my Darling so cha●● in desire,  
Lest thou like the Phoenix do penance in fire.   

But (alas, gallant Lady) I pity thy state,  
In being resolved to live without mate:  
For if of our Courting the pleasures you knew  
You would have a liking the same to ensue.   

Long time have I sued the same to obtain,  
Yet am I requited with scornful disdain:  
But if you will grant your good favour some,  
You shall be advanced to Princely degree.   

Promotions and honours may often entice  
The chastest that liveth, though never so nice:  
What woman so worthy, but will be content,  
To live in the Palace where Princes frequent?   

Two brides young & Princely to Church I have led,  
Two Ladies most lovely have decked my bed,  
Yet hath thy love taken more root in my heart,  
Then all their contentments whereof I had part,   

Your gentle hearts cannot men's tears much abide,  
And women least angry when most they do chide:  
Then yield to me kindly, and say that at length,  
Men do want mercy, and poor women strength.   

I grant that fair Ladies may poor men resist,  
But Princes will conquer and love whom they list:  
A King may command her to sleep by his side,  
Whose feature deserveth to be a King's Bride.   

In granting your love you shall purchase renown,  
Your head shall be decked with England's fair Crown  
Thy garments most gallant with gold shallbe wrought  
If true love for treasure of thee may be bought.   

Great Ladies of honour shall tend on thy train  
Most richly attired with Scarlet in grain:  
My chamber most princely thy person shall keep,  
Where virgins with music shall rock thee asleep.   

If any more pleasures thy heart can invent  
Command them sweet Lady thy mind to content:  
For Kings gallant courts, w●ere Princes do dwell,  
Afford such sweet pastimes as Ladies love well.   

Then be not resolved to die a true maid,  
But print in thy bosom the words I have said:  
And grant a King favour thy true love to be,  
That I may say welcome sweet virgin to me.   
FINIS.   

The fair maid of London's answer to King Edward● wanton Love..  
To the same tune.  

O● wanton King Edward, 'tis labour in vain,  
To follow the pleasure thou canst not attain:  
●●ich getting thou losest, and having dost waste it,  
The which if thou purchase▪ is spoilt if thou hast it.   

But if thou obtainst it, thou nothing hast won  
And I losing nothing, yet quite am undone:  
But if of that jewel a King do deceive me  
No King can restore, though a Kingdom he give me.   

My colour is changed since you saw me last,  
My favour is vanished, my beauty is past:  
The Rosy red blushes that sat on my cheeks,  
To paleness are turned, which all men mislikes.   

I pass not what Princes for love do protest,  
The name of a Virgin contenteth me best▪  
I have not deserved to sleep by thy side▪  
Nor to be accounted for King Edward's Bride.   

The name of a Princes I never did crave,  
No such type of honour thy handmaid will have:  
My breast shall not harbour so lofty a thought,  
Nor be with rich proffers to wantonness brought.   

If wild wanton Rosamond one of our sort,  
Had never frequented King Henry's brave Court,  
Such heaps of deep sorrow she never had seen,  
Nor tasted the rage of so jealous a Queen.   

All men have their freedom to show their intent,  
They win not a woman, except she consent:  
Who then can impute unto them any fault,  
Who still go upright, until women do haut?   

'tis counted a kindness in men for to try,  
And virtue in women the saw to deny:  
For women unconstant can never be proved,  
Until by their betters therein they be moved.   

If women and modelly once do but sever,  
Then farewell good name and credit for ever:  
And Royal King Edward let me be exiled,  
Ere any man know that my body's defiled.   

No, no, my old father's reverend tears  
Too deep an impression within my soul bears:  
Nor shall his bright honour, that bl●● by me have,  
To bring his grey harres with grief to his grave.   

The heavens forbid that when I shall dye,  
That any such sin upon my soul lie:  
If I have thus kept we from doing this sin,  
My heart shall not yield with a Prince to begin.   

Come rather with pity to weep on my tomb,  
Then for my birth curse my dear mother's womb:  
That brought forth a blossom which stained the tree,  
With wanton desires to shame her and me.   

Leave me (most noble King) tempt not in vain,  
My milk-white affections with lewdness to stain,  
Though England will give me no comfort at all,  
Yet England will give me a sad burial.   
FINIS.   

The most cruel murder of Edward the fifth, and his brother Duke of York, in the Tower; by their Uncle Richard Duke of Gloster.  
To the tune of Fortune my foe.  

WHen God had ●ane away true wisdom's King,  
Edward the fourth whose fame shall always ring  
Which reigned had full two and twenty years,  
And ruled well amongst his noble Peers.   

When as he died two sons he left behind,  
The Prince of Wales, & Duke of York most kind:  
The Prince the eldest, but eleven years old,  
The Duke more young as Chronicles have told.   

The dead King's brother, Duke of Gloucester,  
Was chosen for the Prince his Protecter:  
Who straightway plotted how to get the Crown,  
And pull his brother Edward's children down.   

Edward the fifth, the Prince was called by name  
Who by succession did that title gain.  
A prudent Prince whose wisdom did excel,  
Which made his uncle's heart with hatred swell.   

Then did the Duke use all the means he might,  
By damned devices for to work their spite:  
At length the devil put it in his head,  
How all his plots should be accomplished.   

With sugared words which had a poisoned sting,  
He did entice the Duke and the young King:  
For safeties sake to lodge them in the Tower,  
A strong defence and London's chiefest Flower.   

His fair spoke speeches and bewitching charm  
Who told them 'twould secure them from all harm:  
Thus by fair words yet cruel treachery,  
Le won their hearts within the Tower to lie.   

Great entertainment he these Princes gave,  
And causse the Tower to be furnished brave:  
With sumptuous cheer he feasted them that day,  
Thus subtle Wolves with harmless lambs do play.   

With music sweet he filled their princely ears,  
And to their face a smiling countenance bears:  
But his foul heart with mischief was possessed,  
And treacherous thoughts were always in his bres●▪   

When as bright Phoebus had possessed the West,  
And t●at the time was come for all to rest:  
The Duke of Gloster the two Princes led.  
Into a sumptuous chamber to their bed.   

When these sweet children thus were laid in bed,  
And to the Lord their hearty prayers h●d said▪  
Sweet slumbering sleep then closing up their eyes,  
Each folded in each others arm than lies.   

The bloody uncle to these children sweet,  
Unto a Knight to break his mind thought mée●▪  
One sir james Tirrill, which did think it be●t,  
For to agree to his bloody request.   

Sir james he said my resolutions this.  
And for to do the same you must not miss:  
This night so that the King be murdered,  
And the young Duke as they lie in their bed.   

So when these branches I have pulled down,  
There's none the which can keep me from the Crown▪  
My brother Duke of Clarence he was found,  
Ith' Tower within a But of Malmsey drowned.   

It was my plot that he should drowned be,  
Because that none should claim the Crown but me,  
And when these children thou hast murdered,  
I'll wear the Royal Crown upon my head.   

And know thou Tirrill when that I am King,  
I'll raise thy state and honours to thee bring:  
Then be resolved, tut be not thou afraid,  
My Lord I'll do't, this bloody Tirrill said.   

He got two villains for to act this price,  
Hell-hearted murderers and did them disguise  
The one Miles Forest which there keeper was  
The other Dighton keeper of his horse.   

At midnight then when all things they were hushed,  
These bloody slaves into the chamber crushed:  
And to the bed full softly did they creep,  
Where these sweet babes did lie full fast asleep.   

And presently did wrap them in the clothes,  
And stopped their harmless breath with the pillows▪  
Yet did they strive and struggle what they might,  
Until the slaves had stifled both them quite.   

When as the murderers saw that they were dead▪  
They took their bodies forth the cursed bed,  
And then they buried these same little ones  
At the stair foot under a heap of stones.   

But mark how God did scourge them for this deed,  
As in the Chronicles you there may read  
Blood deserveth blood, for so the Lord hath said,  
So at the length their blood was truly paid.   

For when their Uncle he had reigned two years:  
He fell at variance then amongst his Peers:  
In Leicestershire at Bosworth he was slain,  
By Richmond's Earl as he did rightly gain.   

In pieces was he hewed by his foes,  
And kicked and spurned with their feet and toes▪  
They stripped him then, and dragged him up and down,  
And on stout Richmond's head they put the Crown.   

The bloody murderer (Sir james Tirril●,  
For treason lost his head on Towrehill:  
And to Miles Forrest befell no worse a Lot,  
For he in pieces alive away did c●t.   

And john Dighton, the other bloody fiend,  
No man can tell how he came to his end:  
Thus God did pay these murderers their ●ire,  
And hellbred Pluto plagued them with fire.    

A excellent Song, entitled, A pennyworth of Wit.  
To the tune of Labandelas●ot.  

IN ancient years as books express,  
Of old done deeds both more and less:  
A Merchant young of tender years  
As by the sequel well appears:  
a worthy woman took to wife  
right well brought up, and void of strife,  
Could he with her have been content,  
Great blessings might the Lord have sent:  
But he an harlot loved more  
Wherewith his friends were vexed sore.   

In tract of time his chance it was,  
In Merchant's wise the seas to pass:  
In lands right strange was his intent,  
With merchandise he forward went,  
and at his parting thought it meet,  
his concubine and queen to greet:  
And of her love did sweetly pray,  
And favour for to part away:  
With sighing semblance than quoth she,  
My dear ●●ll you depart from me.   

Then to his wedded wife he went,  
Saying dame what thing most excellent▪  
You are desirous for to have,  
Of any thing that heart can crave:  
give me your money to bestow,  
then from her purse she forth did draw,  
A fair coin●e penny verily,  
Wherewith she willed him Wi● to buy,  
Of other toys small mind had she,  
But jesus bless your long journey.   

This said, she wept; then parted he,  
Thinking great scorn of her penny,  
But past ●he Seas and took ●he shore,  
And sped right well, what would we more,  
in many wares he did abound,  
of merchandise both good and sound,  
His ships well fraught he homeward sent  
So well had he his substance spent:  
And for his concubine alack,  
He had bestowed many a knack.   

Then last his wife remembered he,  
And with his mates of merry glee,  
Unto a Tavern forth they go:  
In jesting sort the truth is so  
he said he should be much unkind,  
her merchandi●e to leave behind.  
But said the substance was so small,  
That it would buy nothing at all:  
And thereat made a i●asting sport,  
To all that thither did resort.   

Not far from thence on a feat right nigh,  
There was an old man sitting by,  
Who said good sir I can you show,  
How you that penny shall bestow,  
for if you have a wedded wife,  
I wish you have her during life.  
A wife I have indeed quoth he,  
And a Leman fair and bright of blee,  
Whom I do trust, and ever shall,  
So constant is her love withal.   

The old man answered at last,  
So soon as you the Seas have past,  
Then put of all your fair array,  
And to your Lemon take your way,  
saying that thou a Merchant great,  
did●● rob, and wickedly ere treat,  
And for his goods thou hast him slain,  
And art pursued therefore a main:  
Now which of both do pity thou,  
With her abide in weal and woe.   

With that the penny forth he drew,  
Which to the old man strait he threw,  
Saying he would go try the same  
So in short space he over came▪  
in clothes rend too vile to see,  
unto his Lemen house went he.  
And softly knocked at her door,  
But when she saw he was so poor,  
In fr●wning sort she turned her back,  
Perceiving him to be in lack.   

He said sweet Lemmon for Christ his sake,  
Upon me here some pity take,  
Upon the Seas my goods I lost,  
Myself in danger greatly toast,  
a Merchant murdered is and slain,  
by means of me and of my train:  
Wherefore sweet heart now pity me,  
For need alack, I come to thee,  
But she with words right fierce and fell,  
Said villain, wretch adieu, farewell.   

Shall I give succour to thy deed?  
The Devil grant thee ill to speed,  
Avoid thou rascal● hence apace,  
Thy fact deserves to have no grace,  
go home unto that Gib thy wife,  
let her give succour to thy life,  
For by the faith to God I owe,  
I mean the Officer shall know,  
Except from hence in hast thou pack:  
He turned his face and cried alack.   

Then in that poor and simple array,  
Unto his wife he took his way,  
And told like tale as he before,  
Had uttered to his wicked whore,  
and said sweet wife without your aid  
I fear I shall be soon betrayed.  
My spouse quoth she, take you no grief,  
A hundred pounds for your relief,  
I yet have here for you in store  
When that is gone we will get more▪   

And for your pardon▪ sir quoth she,  
I will make means as you shall see,  
And all your creditors will pray,  
To take with you a longer day,  
good friends I have, take you no thought,  
this thing to pass shall well be brought.  
And as much goods as here before,  
They shall you give or rather more,  
With that he did his wife embrace,  
And told her true in every case.   

Together than that night they lay,  
And in the morning passing gay,  
This merchant did himself attire,  
In costly suits for his desire:  
with servants two for his intent,  
unto his Lemen house he went,  
As by the way she did him spy,  
She ran and met him by and by,  
And said my love for very shame,  
What moved you to work th●● gain.   

Why came you basely to my door?  
Why did you feign yourself so poor?  
Sith you do know you have my love,  
And all my goods for your behoof?  
She then with him did kiss and dally,  
as she was wont with ancient fally,  
My Lemon dear he said again,  
To me it hath been told right plain,  
You have another friend in store,  
Whom you do love at heart right sore.   

The jewels which I gave to you,  
He hath in hold I tell you true:  
Then up she rose all in a braid,  
And all those things before him laid:  
he took them up and called his men,  
and said go get you home again,  
With this apparel and this gear,  
She said what will you rob me here,  
He took all things to hand that came,  
And bore all home unto his Dame.   

And said behold my loving fear,  
See here these jewels and this gear,  
Look well thereon and do not spare,  
Here is a penny worth of ware:  
he told her likewise how and when,  
he had this counsel of a man:  
She saw those jewels did abound,  
In value worth a hundreth pound,  
They thanked God both, for his grace,  
And after lived in happy case.   
FINIS.   

Titus Andronicus complaint.  
To the tune of Fortune.  

YOu noble minds and famous martial wights,  
That in defence of native country fights:  
Give ear to me that ten years fought for Rome.  
Yet reaped disgrace when I returned home.   

In Rome I lived in fame full threescore years.  
By name beloved dear of all his Peers:  
Full five and twenty valiant sons I had,  
Whose forward virtues made their father glad   

For when Rome's foes their warlike forces felt,  
Against them still my sons and I were sent:  
Against the Goths full ten years weary war,  
We spent, receiving many a bloody s●arre:   

Just two and twenty of my sons were slain  
Before we did return to Rome again:  
Of five and twenty sons I brought but three  
Alive, the stately Towers of Rome to see.   

When wars were done I conquest home did bring,  
And did present my prisoners to the King  
The Queen of Go●h her sons and eke a Moor,  
Which did much murder like was ne'er before.   

The Emperor did make this Queen his wife  
Which bred in Rome debate and deadly strife:  
The Moor with her two sons did grow so proud,  
That none like them in Rome was then aloud.   

The Moor so pleased the new-made Empress' eye  
That she consented with him secretly:  
For to abuse her husband's marriage bed,  
And so in tune a black a moor she bred.   

Then she whose thoughts to murder were in●inde,  
Consented with the Moor with bloody mind:  
Against myself, my kin and all my friends  
In cruel fort to bring them to their ends.   

So when in age I thought to live in peace,  
Both woe and grief began then to increase:  
Amongst my sons I had one daughter bright,  
Which joyed and pleased best my age's sight.   

My dear Lavina was betrothed as than  
To Caesar's son a young and noble man:  
Who in a hunting by the Emperor's wife,  
And her two sons bereaved were of life,   

He being slain was cast in cruel wise  
Into a dismal den from light of skies:  
The cruel Moor did come that way as then,  
With my two sons who fell into that den.   

The Moor then fectht the Emperor with speed,  
For to accuse them of that murderous deed:  
And then my sons within the den were found  
In wrongful prison they were cast and bound.   

But now behold what wounded most my mind,  
The Emperors two sons of Tiger's kind:  
My daughter ravished without remorse,  
And took away her honour quite perforce.   

When they had tasted of so sweet a flower,  
Fearing their sweet should shortly turn to sour,  
They cut her tongue, whereby she could not tell,  
How that dishonour unto her befell.   

Then both her hands they falsely cut of quite,  
Where by their wickedness she could not write,  
Nor with her needle on her sampler sow,  
The bloody workers of her direful woe.   

My brother Marcus found her in a wood,  
Staining the grass ground with purple bleed:  
That trickled from her stumps and handless arms,  
No tongue at all she had to tell her harms.   

But when I saw her in that woeful case,  
With tears of blood I wet my aged fa●e:  
For my Lavinia I lamented more  
Than for my two and twenty sons before.   

When as I saw she could not write nor speak,  
With grief my aged heart began to break,  
We spread a heap of sand upon the ground,  
Whereby those bloody tyrants out we found.   

For with a staff without the help of hand,  
She writ th●se words upon that plot of sand:  
The lustful sons of the p●ou● Empress,  
Are doers of this hateful wickedness.   

I tore the milk-white hairs from off my head  
I cursed the hour wherein I first was ●red:  
I wished my hand that fought for country's ●ame,  
In cradles rocked had first been stroke● lame.   

The Moor delighting still in villainy,  
Did say to set my sons from prison free:  
I should unto the King my right hand give,  
And then my 〈◊〉 prisoned sons should live.   

The Moor I caused to strike it off with speed,  
Whereat I grieved not to see it bleed,  
But for my son's 〈◊〉 wi●●ingly impart,  
And for their ransom send my bleeding heart.   

But as my life did linger thus in pain  
They sent to me my bloodless hand again:  
And therewithal the heads of my two sons,  
Which filled my dying heart with fresher moans.   

Then past relief I up and down did go,  
And with my tears writ in the dust my ●o:  
I shot my arrows towards heaven high  
And for revenge to hell did sometimes cry.   

The Empress then thinking I was mad  
Like Furies she and both her sons were clad:  
She named revenge, and rape and murder they,  
To undermine and know what I would say.   

I fed their foolish veins a certain space,  
Until my friends and I did find a place  
Where both her sons unto a post were bound,  
Where just revenge in cruel sort was found.   

I cut their throats, my daughter held the pan,  
Betwixt her stumps wherein their blood then ran,  
And then I ground their bones to powder small  
And made a paste for pies strait therewithal.   

Then with their flesh I made two mighty pies,  
And at a banquet served in stately wise,  
Before the Empress set this loathsome meat,  
So of her sons own flesh she well did eat,   

Myself bereaude my daughter then of life,  
The Empress than I sl●w with bloody knife:  
I stabbeth the Emperor immediately,  
And then myself, even so did Titus dye.   

Then this revenge against the Moor was found,  
Alive they set him half into the ground,  
Whereas he stood until such time he sterude,  
And so God send all murderers may be served.    
The end of the first Part.   

The Second Part of the Golden Garland.  

The Shepherd's resolution.  
To the tune of the young man's opinion.  

SHall I wasting in despair  
Dye because a woman's fair:  
Shall my cheeks look pale with care.  
'Cause another's Rosy are▪  
Be she fairer than the Day.  
Or the flowery Meads in May▪  
Yet if she think not well of me,  
What care I how fair she be.   

Shall a Woman's goodness move,  
Me to perish for her love?  
Or her worthy merits known,  
Make me quite forget mine own?  
Be she with that goodness blest,  
As may merit name of best:  
Yet if she be not such to me,  
What care I how fair she be,   

Be she good or kind or fair,  
I will never more despair:  
If she love me, this believe,  
I will die ere she shall grieve:  
If she fright me when I woe,  
I will scorn and let her go:  
Yet if she be not fit for me,  
What care I for whom she be.   

Shall a woman truly wise,  
Draw amazement from mine eyes,  
Wondering that from such a Creature,  
Wisdom thus should come by nature:  
And comprehend the best of things,  
That from the well of Wisdom springs:  
Yet if she be not such to me,  
What care I how wise she be.   

Shall I cast affection down,  
Because I see a woman brown▪  
Shall beauty's changeling kill desire,  
Or loathing quench out fancies fire?  
Be she brown or black or foul,  
or fronted like a broad eyed Owl:  
Yet if she be not such to me,  
What care I how foul she be.   

Shall my heart with sorrow burst,  
Because I see a woman cursed:  
Or shall I grieve when I behold,  
The picture of a pure scold.  
Be her tongue so truly evil,  
That well might tyre the very Devil.  
Yet if she be not such to me,  
What care I how cursed she be.   

Shall a Woman's tempting smile,  
Accuse her for a Crocodile:  
Or shall I trust a Wantoness eyes,  
That most dissembles when she cries,  
Be women made of evil wholly,  
To draw us men to wanton fully.  
Yet if they be not such to me,  
What care I how ill they be.   

Shall women's all-affecting features,  
Make me judge them Angel creatures:  
Shall I think them come from heaven,  
To be an earthly blessing given,  
Be good or bad or what you please,  
The less we need them most at ease.  
Be what they will if not for me,  
I care not then what women be.   
FINIS.   

The Shepherds Pipe.  

Sleep wayward thoughts, & rest you with my love,  
Let not my love be with my love d●●●sde,  
●ouch not proud hands, lest you her anger move  
But pine you with my longings long displeased,  
thus while she sleeps I sorrow for her sake,  
so sleeps my love, and yet my love doth wake,   

But O the fate of these my restless fears,  
The hidden anguish of my flesh desires:  
The glories and the beauties that appears,  
Between her brows, near Cupid's closed ●ires,  
thus while she sleeps moves sighing for thy sake,  
so sleeps my love and yet my love doth wake.   

My love doth rage and yet my love doth rest,  
Fear in my love and yet my love secure  
Peace in my love and yet my love oppressed,  
Impatient yet of perfect temperature.  
Sleep dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake,  
so sleeps my love and yet my love doth wake.   
FINIS.   

Coridon's farewell to Phillis.  
FArewell dear love since thou will needs begun,  
Mine eyes do show my life is almost done,  
nay I will never die, so long as I can spy,  
there be many more, though that she do go,  
There be many more I fear not,  
Why then let her go I care not.  
Farewell, farewell, since this I find is true,  
I will not spend more time in wooing you:  
but I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love them,  
shall I bid her go? what and if I do?  
Shall I bid her go and spare not,  
O no no, no, no, no, I dare not.  
Ten thousand times farewell, yet stay a while,  
Sweet kiss we once sweet kisses time beguile:  
I have no power to move how now, am I in love?  
wilt thou needs be gone? go then, all is one:  
Wilt thou ●eedes be gone? Oh high thee,  
Nay stay, and do no more deny me.  
Once more adieu, I see loath to depart,  
Bids oft adieu to her that holds my heart  
but seeing I must lose thy love which I did choose,  
go thy w●y for me, since that may not be;  
Go thy ways for me, but whether?  
Go, oh but where I may come thither.  
What shall I do, my love is now departed,  
She is as fair as she is cruel hearted:  
we would not be entreated with prayers oft repeated,  
If she come no more, shall I dye therefore,  
If she come no more, what care I,  
Faith let her go or come or tarry.  
FINIS.   

The Weaver's Shuttle, or a Lovesong made by a Preptise of London, that loved a young Gentlewoman in the country, doubting of her constancy.  
To the tune of, Riding to Rumford.  

OH how I sigh and sob  
Oh how I languish:  
Oh how my heart doth throb  
with grief and anguish▪  
My song I cannot tune,  
For love I do consume  
I cannot work in Loom  
hang up my shuttle.   

My treadles all stand still  
I cannot use them:  
My shuttle and my quill,  
I will refuse them.  
My batten and my slay,  
And all my Lese play  
hay ho, till holiday,  
hang up my shuttle.   

Yet though they do stand still,  
I must be doing:  
And to my love in good will,  
I must a wooing,  
I cannot merry be,  
But in her company,  
Sweet heart I come to thee,  
and leave my shuttle.   

And when I visit thee,  
And have my wishes,  
And entertained be,  
with dainty kisses.  
● how my heart doth grieve,  
So soon my love to leave,  
And go again to weave,  
and use my shuttle.   

Yet shuttle fly apace,  
Till thou art weary:  
For I must weave my la●e,  
sing and be merry.  
Till the next holiday,  
Then thou and I will play  
Hay ho cast care away,  
hang up my shuttle.   

If thou unconstant prove,  
I'll not respect thee:  
But choose another love,  
and quite reject thee.  
A Weaver thou shalt know,  
Scorns to be served so▪  
Though my true heart I show,  
using my shuttle.   

Gentlemen Weavers all,  
That hears my ditty,  
Pardon my verses small,  
rude and unwitty.  
If they do you offend,  
Next I make I will mend,  
And so my Song doth end,  
reach me my shuttle.   
FINIS.   

Of the inconveniences by Marriage.  
To the tune of When Troy town.  

FOnd wanton youth makes love a god,  
Which after proveth ages rod:  
Their youth, their time, their wit and art,  
They spend in seeking of their smart:  
And which of follies is the chief,  
They woe their woe, they wed their grief.   

All find it so that wedded are,  
loves sweet they find enfold sour ear.  
His pleasures pleasingst in the eye,  
Which tasted once with loathing die:  
they find of follies 'tis the chief,  
their woe to woe to wed their grief,   

If for their own content they chose,  
Forthwith their kindred's lo●e they lose,  
And if their kindred they content,  
For ever after they repent:  
O 'tis of all our bodies chief  
Our woe to woe to wed our grief.   

In bed what strifes are bred by day  
Our puling wives do open lay:  
None friends, none foes we must esteem,  
But whom they so vouchsafe to deem:  
O 'tis of all our follies chief  
Our woe to woe, to wed our grief.   

Their smile we want if ought they want,  
And either we their wills must grant:  
Or die they will or are with child  
Their laughing must not be beguiled.  
O 'tis of all our follies chief  
Our woe to woe, to wed our grief.   

Fowl wives are jealous fair wives fall  
Marriage to either binds us thrall  
Wherefore being bound we must obey,  
And forced be perforce to say:  
Of all our follies 'tis the chief,  
Our woe to woe, to wed our grief,   
FINIS.   

The Shepherds joy..  
To the tune of Barra Faustus Dream.  

COme sweet Love, let sorrow cease,  
●anish frowns leave of dissension:  
Love wars make the sweetest peace  
hearts uniting by contention.  
Sunshine follows after rain  
Sorrows ceasing: this is pleasing  
All proves fair again  
after sorrow soon comes joy  
Try me, prove me, trust me, love me  
This will cure annoy.   

Winter hides his frosty face  
Blushing now to be more ve●●ed:  
Spring returned with pleasant grace,  
Flora's treasures are renewed:  
Lambs rejoice to see the Spring,  
Shipping, leaping, sporting, playing  
Birds for joy do sing,  
so let the Spring of joy renew,  
Laughing, colling, kissing, playing,  
And give love his due   

See those bright suns of thine eyes,  
Clouded now with black disdaining,  
Shall such stormy tempests rise,  
to set loves fair days a raining:  
All are glad the skies being clear,  
Lighly joying, sporting, toying,  
With their lovely cheer:  
but as sad to see a shower,  
Sadly drooping; lowering; pouting;  
Turning sweet to sour.   

Then sweet love disperse this cloud,  
That obscures this scornful coying:  
When all creatures sings aloud,  
filling hearts with over joying:  
As every bird do choose her make,  
Gently billing, she is willing  
Her true love to take:  
with such words let us contend;  
Wooing, doing, wedding bedding,  
And so our strife shall end.   
FINIS.   

A pleasant Song Entitled, You pretty wantoness warble.  

YOu pretty birds that sit and sing  
amidst the shady valleys,  
And see how sweetly Phillis walks  
within her garden allies.  
Go pretty birds unto her bower  
sing pretty birds she may not lower:  
For fear my fairest Phillis frown  
you pretty wantoness warble.   

Go tell her through your chirping bills,  
as you by me are bidden:  
To her is only known my love,  
which from the world is hidden.  
Go pretty birds and tell her so  
see that your notes fall not too low,  
For fear etc.   

Go tune your voices harmony  
and sing I am her Lover:  
Strain low and high that every note  
with sweet content may move her.  
Tell her it is her lover true,  
that sendeth love by you and you,  
Ay me, me thinks I see her frown,  
you pretty wantoness warble.   

Fly, fly, make haste me thinks she's fall'n  
into a pleasant slumber:  
Sing round about her Rosy bower  
that waking she may wonder.  
And he that hath the sweetest voice  
tell ●er I'll never change my choice.  
Ay me &c   

Fly pretty birds, and in your bills  
bear me a loving letter,  
Unto my fairest Phillis, and  
with your sweet music greet her,  
Go pretty birds unto her, hie,  
haste pretty birds unto her, fly:  
Ay me etc.   

And if you find her sadly se●  
about her sweetly chant it:  
Until she smiling raise her head  
ne'er cease until she grant it.  
Go pretty birds and tell her I,  
as you have done, will to her fly.  
Ay me etc.   

Henceforth refuse, you pretty birds  
to chiepe in uncouth places:  
And draw you all together there,  
where lovely Phillis traces.  
There pretty birds about her sing  
there pretty birds make echoes ring▪  
For fear my fairest Phillis frown,  
you pretty wantoness warble.   
FINIS.   

The Lover's lamentation for the death of fair Phillis.  

HOw can I choose but sigh and moan  
and evermore sit weeping?  
My fairest Phillis she is gone  
death hath her in his keeping.  
O death how dared thou be so bold  
to lay my Phillis in the mould?  
Ay me, aye me, ay woe is me  
cease pretty birds to warble.   

Cease now your chirping melody  
for Spring times past and gone,  
And Winter's chilling storms deny  
your harmony be shown.  
Keep you your nests, I'll keep my den,  
where thousand frightful objects been,  
Ay me etc.   

Her shadow hanging in my sight  
adds to my grief and anguish:  
The substance wanting in the ●ght.  
for which I lie and languish  
The pretty toys she used to w●are,  
lie scattered now, some here, some there,  
●ye me, aye me etc.   

So that the place when she survived,  
which was a place of pleasure,  
Is uncouth made by loss of this  
inestimable treasure:  
That beauty that made her excel,  
made that seem heaven that now seems hell?  
Ay me, aye me etc.   

Wert that the force of men de●ainde,  
my fairest Phillis from me.  
Or Iron bars, or bolts, or locks,  
she might not look upon me.  
Then might I hope to reobtain  
her presence, but all hope is vain,  
Ay me, aye me etc.   

Oh why should men's desires like hounds,  
pursue this vain world's pleasure?  
And count them happy in nought else,  
but in this vain world's treasure,  
Seeing to day we mount in Mirth,  
and fall to morrow in the earth:  
Ay me, aye me etc.   
Finis.   

The Maiden's complaint.  
To the tune, I can nor will no longer lie alone.  

CAn any tell me what I ail,  
I am grown so sick, so weak, so pale:  
I to that plight alas am grown  
that I can nor will no longer lie alone.   

Was ever maidens case like mine,  
thus of fifteen years of age to pine:  
Were I the judge I am sure there is none,  
that should any longer lie alone.   

When it is day I wish for night,  
and when it is dark for light again:  
Thus all the night long to toss & to g●●ne,  
for that I can no longer lie alone.   

If dreams be true then judge I can,  
all that I want is but a man:  
Only for one I make this moan,  
for that I can no longer lie alone.   

To woo him first ashamed am I,  
but if he ask, I will not deny:  
Such is my case I must have one  
for that I can no longer lie alone.   

Yet shall this be my prayer still,  
for one that may give me my fill  
For I care not how soon it be known,  
that I can nor will no longer lie alone.   

For all my wish I'll have none,  
but him I love and I love but one:  
And if he love not me then will I have none  
but ever till I die I'll lie alone.   
Finis.   

The inconstancy of the World.  

WHat if a day, a month, or a year,  
Crown thy desires with a thousand wished content  
Cannot the chance of an night or an hour  
Cross thy delights with as many sad torment:  
Fortune in their fairest birth,  
Are but blossoms dying,  
Wanton pleasures doting mirth,  
Are but shadows flying▪  
All our joys are but toys  
Idle thoughts deceiving:  
None hath power of an hour:  
In our lives bereaving.   

What if a smile, or a beck, or ● look  
Feed my fond thoughts with as many sweet conceiving  
May not that smile, or that beck, or that look.  
Tell thee as well they are but vain deceiving?  
Why should beauty be so proud  
In things of no surmounting  
All her wealth is but a shroud  
Of a rich accounting:  
Then in this repose no bliss  
Which is vain and idle:  
Beauties flowers have their hours,  
Time doth hold the bridle.   

What if the world with allures of his wealth  
Raise thy degree to a place of high advancing  
May not the world by a check of that wealth  
Put thee again to as low despised cha●●ing  
Whilst the Sun of wealth doth shine  
Thou shalt have friends plenty:  
But come want they then repent,  
Not one abides of twenty:  
Wealth and friends hold and ends,  
As your fortunes rise and f●ll:  
Up and down rise and frown  
Certain is no state at all.   

What if a grief, or a strain, or a fit,  
Pinch thee with pain, or the feeling ●angs of sickness,  
Doth not that grip●, or that strain, or that fit.  
Show thee the form of thy own true perfect likeness  
Health is but a glimpse of joy,  
Subject to all changes  
Mirth is but a silly toy,  
Which mishap estranges,  
Tell me then silly man  
Why art thou so weak of wit:  
As to be in jeopardy  
When thou mayst in quiet sit▪   

Then if all this have declared thine amiss  
Take it from me as a gentle friendly warning:  
If thou refuse and good counsel abuse,  
Thou mayst hereafter dear buy thy learning.  
All is hazard that we have  
There is nothing hiding,  
Days of pleasure are like streams,  
Through the meadows gliding,  
Wealth or woe, time doth ge●  
There is no returning  
Secret fates guide our state●  
Both in mirth and mourning.   
FINIS.   

Love's Constancy.  

SInce Ar● I saw thy face I resolve,  
to honour and renown ye:  
If now I be disdained I wi●h,  
my heart had never known 〈◊〉.   

What I that loud and you that liked,  
shall we begin to wrangle:  
No no, no, no, my heart is fixed,  
and cannot now entangle.   

If I admired or praised you too much,  
that fault you may forgive me:  
Or if my hand had strayed to touch,  
then justly might you leave me.   

I asked you leave, you bade me love,  
ist now a time to chide me:  
No, no, no, no, i'll love you still.  
what fortune ere betide me.   

The Sun whose beams most glorious are,  
rejecteth no beholder:  
●nd your sweet beauty past compare,  
made my poor eyes the holder.   

Where beauty moves, and wit delights,  
and signs of kindness binds me:  
There O there where ere I go,  
I'll leave my heart behind me.   
FINIS.   

Coridon's doleful knell.  
To the tune of Ding dung.  

MY Phillida a due Love  
And evermore farewell,  
I must go seek a new Love  
Yet I will ring her knell:  
Ding dung, ding dung, ding dung,  
My Phillida is dead  
I'll stick a branch of Willows,  
At my fair Phillis head.   

Our bridal bed was made  
But my fair Phillida  
In steed of silken shade,  
She now lies wrapped in clay.  
Ding dung, etc.   

Her corpse shall be attended,  
With nymphs in rich array  
Till obsequies be●ended.  
And my love wrapped in clay,  
Ding dung, etc.   

Her hearse it shall be carried,  
With them that do excel:  
And when that she is buried  
Thus will I ring her knell.  
Ding dung, etc.   

●le deck her tomb with flowers  
The rarest that ere was seen  
And with my tears as shewe●●  
I'll keep them fresh and green.  
Ding dung, etc.   

In stead of fairest colours  
Set forth by curious art,  
Her picture shall be painted,  
In my distressed heart.  
Ding dung, etc.   

And ever shallbe written  
And after shall be said,  
〈◊〉 lou● is not forgotten,  
Though Phillida be dead.  
Ding dung, etc.   

In sable will I mourn,  
The black shall be my wee●e,  
Ay me I hear some talk,  
That Phillida is dead.  
Ding dung, ding dung, ding dung,  
My Phillida is dead, etc.   

A garland shall be framed,  
By art and nature's skill:  
With sundry coloured flowers.  
In token of good will.  
Ding dung, etc.   

With s●ndry coloured Ribbons  
As much I will bestow,  
They should be black, and yellow,  
In token of good will.  
Ding dung, etc.   

True lovers be not scanting,  
With ●eares to make me moon,  
Since Philida is wanting.  
And all my joys are gone.  
Ding dung, etc.   

She was my lovely true love,  
My heart can witness well:  
Wherefore in sign I love her,  
Once more I'll ring her knell.  
Ding dung, ding dung, ding dung,  
My Phillada is dead▪  
I'll stick a branch of W●llowes,  
At my fair Phillis head.   
FINIS.   

Coridon's Resolution.  

THere is a Lady sweet and kind  
Was never face so pleased my mind:  
● did but see her passing by,  
And yet I love her till I die.   

●er gesture, motion, and her smiles  
●er wit, her voice my heart beguiles,  
Beguiles my heart I know not why,  
●nd yet I love her till I die.   

●ow I her fast betwixt mine arms  
●udge you that think such sports were harms,  
●ert any harm, no fie, fie  
For I will love her till I die.   

●hould I remain confined there,  
●o long as Phoebus in his sphere:  
● to request, she to deny  
●et would I love her till I die.   

●upid is winged and doth range  
●er country, so my love doth change:  
But change she earth or change she sky,  
●et will I love her till I die,   
FINIS.   

The Shepherd's Dialogue of love between Willy an● Cuddy.  
To the tune of Maying time.  Willy, 
HOw now shepherd what means that  
Why wear'st thou willow in thy he,  
Why are thy Scarves of red and yellow,  
Turned to branches of green willow.  Cuddy 
They are changed and so am I,  
Sorrow lives but pleasure dies▪  
She hath now forsaken me,  
Which makes me wear the Willow tree.  Will. 
What, that Phillis loud thee long,  
Is that the Lass hath done thee wrong:  
She that loud thee long and best,  
Is her love turned to a jest.  Cudd. 
She that loved me long and best▪  
〈◊〉 me set my heart at rest:  
〈◊〉 she a new Love loves (not me)  
●hat makes me wear the Willow tree.  Will. 
Come then shepherd let us join,  
Since thy hap is like to mine:  
For the wight I thought most true▪  
Now hath changed me fo● a new.  Cudd 
Well then since thy hap is so▪  
Take no ●a●e but let h●● go●  
●hy hard hap doth min● appease▪  
●●mpany doth sorrow's ease.  Will. 
Then I will forget her love,  
●ince wantonly she false will prove:  
〈◊〉 for her sake bid all adieu,  
〈◊〉 seldom women do prove true.  
〈◊〉 for her sake I'll sit and pi●e,  
〈◊〉 she was once a Love of mine:  
●hich shall ne'er forgotten be,  
●●ough I wear the Willow tree.  〈◊〉. 
Herds man be advised by me,  
●ast of grief and Willow tree:  
●or thy grief breeds her content,  
〈◊〉 is pleased if thou lament.  〈◊〉 
Then I will be ruled by thee,  
●here lies grief and Willow tree:  
〈◊〉 ●●rth I will do as they,  
〈…〉 a new 〈◊〉 every day▪    

A Table 〈…〉  

 
● Queen Elizabeth● courage against the Spani●● eighty eight.  
7 How two English Princes became Shepherds Salisbury Plain.  
8 The life and death of Richard the second.  
9 Of Charles Brandon who married Henry the eight●▪  
10 Of King Richard the third.  
11 Of the Lady Elinor and Captain Ie●ken●on.  
12 King Edward's wooing.  
13 Two Princes murdered in the Tower.  
14 A penny worth of wit.  
15 T●tu● Andronicus.   

The Song● in the second Part.  
1 What care I now fair she be.  
2 Sleep wayward thoughts.  
● Farewell dear love▪  
〈…〉 Wove 〈◊〉.