THE FAMOUS Whore, or Noble Courtesan: Containing the lamentable complaint of PAULINA, the famous Roman Courtesan, sometimes mistress unto the great Cardinal Hippolito, of Est.  
By Garuis Markham.  
LONDON, Printed by N. O. for john Budge, and are to be sold at his shop by the great South gate of Paul's. 1609.   

The Printer to the Reader.  
GENTLEMEN, I have adventured to bring a whore into your company, but with no bad intent, but to give you honest Recreation, not to hurt you in purse or body: Therefore you must think this is a famous strange whore: for she seeks the hurt of no man. Wrong her not then, but give her kind welcome out of Italy: for she hath been a mere stranger to our English nation till this hour. And yet Gentlemen you know some of her kindred: Therefore love her, for their sakes whom you love, and let us show ourselves as courteous as Italians, and except her kindly, Farewell.   

THE LAMENTABLE COMPLAINT of Paulina the famous Roman Courtesan, sometimes Mes. unto the great Cardinal Hippolito of Est.  

ALthough 'tis all too late that I complain,  
Of those deep scars which on my fame remain  
And that unsesonably to gneve our il  
Shows our defect in reason; yet I will  
Take truce with order, and lament that fate,  
Whose strength of hope is only desperate:  
My former carelessness shall bring forth care,  
And knit my best of wishes to the fair:  
I will compel myself to ease my grief,  
With sighs and tears (the weakest worst relief:)  
And yet perhaps some here may profit draw,  
Though not my plaints, nor me they ener saw.  
My woes to others may as mirrors stand,  
And my life give example to our land.  
That by my wretched hap they may beware:  
Prevention ever should precede our care;  
And this is all the good my fate can tell,  
To show to beauty's hairs how beauty fell.  
Then to unclasp that book, thus I begin,  
And thus lay open affliction and my sin.  
First for my birth (so high my fortunes stood,)  
I issued from an ancient worthy blood:  
And faster than my years my beauties sprang,  
For being young all excellence I won:  
And hardly numbering twelve years was renowned,  
With style of fairest (so was beauty crowned)  
But what avails the beauty of the cheek,  
When soul adorning virtue is to seek?  
Better want life then knowledge, sith 'tis said,  
Piety lives when beauties gloss is dead.  
Comercement base is youths prorested foe,  
Pitch doth defile, and ills from ill do flow.  
Voluptuous idleness was my first nurse,  
And drunken pleasures fixed me to my curse,  
Garments as rich as starlight, dainty fare,  
Mirth and soft lodging my worst minions are:  
All that I wished I had, by which expense  
My glutton soul grew slave unto my sense.  
My happy father dead, my mother's love  
Gave my youth's vines freely leave to move:  
A wanton mother breeds a daughter light,  
And appetite doth seldom lead youth right:  
Into disorder all my motions flies,  
Yet in my life no one fault she espies:  
Feeding my wanton humours with delight,  
Bridles no errors, but gives error might.  
Hence I began to chide shame from my face,  
To taunt at modest goodness, scoff at grace:  
So that at thirteen years (O monstrous thought)  
My body was to prostitution brought,  
My maiden flower, my virgin honoured tree,  
I gave to stealth and hateful luxury.  
But O this gem, on whom did I bestow it,  
On him that by desert might amply owe it,  
Or him whose honour, place or dignity,  
Might to the world, my sins fault qualify?  

a Being but 13 years of age she lost her madenhead to one of the meanest and basest drudges of her mother's house.  O no; he that possessed it was a slave,  
A groom as base as earth, a poor knaves knave:  
Mine honours spoil, no better captain bare,  
Fit time and place makes peasants apt to dare.  
So Medor wan Angelica by chance,  
From all the noble, Paladins of France.  
O you that keep the threncher grooms of state,  
Hold watchful eye upon their dangerous fate.  
I do not censure all, but those great few,  
Whose large ambitions covets all they view,  
Chiefly those subtle seemers, purest sheep:  
For they fox-craftie are, and mischief keep.  
The garment of demureness clothes base thought,  
And dryest lips do take the deepest draft.  
My mother (ancient read in rules of lust)  
Soon reads mine errors in her own distrust:  
And seeing that the shame recureless was,  
With a smooth brow of silence lets it pass.  
Only dismissed him and dissembled it,  
For she was poor grown and (now) lived by wit.  
Ill may like faults, the self like faults control,  
For well she knew I knew her faults as foul.  
Nor could her old age now support her name,  
Unless I gave my body to defame.  
Whence it proceeded that the little store,  
Of goods, of plate, and jewels got before,  
We turned to coin, and by the night's dim flame,  
We fied from Fano and to Rome we came. 
b Fano is a city in Italy not far from Pesaro, it was called in old time Fanum fortunae, because fortune had a temple that in. The fairest women in Italy are said to come from thence & from Sienna, as the old saying is, Produxit S̄eper formosas Fano puellas, It is subject to the Pope yet lieth in the midst of the Duke of Urbin's dominions.   
From Fano where to live, I then did scorn,  
An humble suitor, being sovereign borne.  
Arrived at Rome, I 'gan to merchandise,  
And in my trade could even instruct the wife.  
Hot bloods I could make flames, cold tempers sweat,  
And to each sick taste, framed agreeing meat.  
For lo scarce settled there, or but half warm,  
My colours hardly spread to loves alarm:  
My mother deep in judgement as in years,  
For a pure virgin sells me to sundry pears.  
Who having all they paid for; lust, and shame,  
I still returned as pure as when I came.  
As if my Hydra maiden head had sprung,  
And by the loss of one, two new begun.  
You that have youths heat, let wit look unto you,  
Our arts and falsehood quickly will undo you.  
But when mine oft sold maiden head grew stale,  
And this sins shift no more could us avail,  
We then turned o'er the leaf and lessons new,  
(Fuller of profit) from old customs drew.  
And this was one, my mother cunningly,  

c She meaneth the great Cardinal Hypolite of Esta, who kept her certain years as his concubine.  Sells me unto a Prelate secretly,  
Unto a Cardinal that held worlds of wealth,  
The covenant he should hold me to himself.  
And there withal with strange oaths did assure,  
(As he supposed) I was a virgin pure.  
O you Church mirours say, why do you live  
Thus loose, that should us better instance give?  
You should our torches be of glorious light,  
To guide, not lead us from the way that's right.  
Your lives with your religions should agree,  
And as your words are, so your deeds should be.  
But I perceive the adage you fulfil,  
And it not chaste, yet chary you live still.  
And yet you Roman Prelates you deserve,  
In somewhat pardon, though you much do serve  
From holy duty, sith you are forbid,  
By man's laws (not God's orders) wives to wed.  
Where other holy ones that know more truth,  
And have the liberty in age and youth.  
To taste the joys of marriage, yet will stray,  
Beyond all modest rules, and tyre the day  
With their untired lusts, their unquenched fires,  
Which more they do consume, more still desires.  
But leaving both, that both may both amend,  
I will return unto my reverend friend.  
Whose love, whose admiration, and whose eel,  
So dwelled upon my beauty's dignity,  
And gave me all my wishes that I grew  
Richer in favour and was made anew,  
Now I took up my rank amongst the best,  
And over every star lift up my crest.  
All wanton baits, enchanting exercise,  
As music, dancing, masking and such guise,  
Heart's rhetoric, courtship, fashions of new mould,  
And such like lures I as my vassals hold.  
The woman's great art (painting) was in me,  
So complete, I could blind the choicest eye.  
And to be brief, so rare was my perfection,  
In every sleight of love, in each infection,  
That even lusts oldest beldames, known most wise,  
took their new precepts from my conquering eyes.  
For first (as then) into the world I saw,  
Not knowing aught (before) I was so raw.  
Thus did I live in pleasures wallowing,  
Whilst with my Princely Cardinal dallying,  
Days did consume, as scarcely minutes long,  
Mirth being my music, sweet delight my song.  
For so I had inchaind his lovesick heart,  
That from mine eyes, his eyes could nover part:  
His only study was my joys content,  
Nor did he care what I consumed or spent,  
To see my youthful appetite best pleased,  
Was the earth's heaven, on which his senses seized:  
My joys were his delights, my grief his sore:  
But my contentment he did wish no more.  
More than three years I led this jovial life,  
(A life o'ercharged with pleasures) void of strife:  
Till at the last, I longed for a change,  
And being cloyed with ease, desired to range.  
" Nature from thy corruption this doth flow,  
" That our best tempers we can never know.  
" Many of too much ease do oft complain,  
" And pleasures surfait is the body's bane.  
" Too much of sweetness turns to bitter gall,  
" And loathsomeness of best things breeds in all:  
" And how ill doth imperious majesty,  
" With love (considering loves right nature) gree!  
Nought did I want, but liberty at will,  
Which wanting lo, I wanted all things still:  
No honoured favours which I then possessed,  
Royal observance fitting for the best;  
Chains, jewels, rings or antic wrought attire,  
Which makes the souls of women most aspire,  
No following troops, nor no admiring trains,  
Whose eyes from my least lustre sucked their baines;  
No Lady's life, no female idleness,  
No candied flattery, no voluptuousness.  
Not to enjoy all joys, and in my hand,  
To hold the rock of fate at my command.  
All these could not content me, I did find,  
A something nothing did perplex my mind.  
" O liberty thou serpent subtle vile,  
" How many of my sex dost thou beguile!  
" Thou mak'st us seek the sovereignty of will,  
" And of ourselves to be self monarches still.  
" When we so vain are and unreasonable,  
" As our own selves to rule we are not able.  
" Wise are we when we in obedience stand,  
" And best we rule when others us command.  

d The right fashion of Courtesans beyond the seas, & how vainly they spend their time.  To be at liberty and to devise,  
New moulded court ships after strangest guise.  
Abroad to mask, to have the will and power,  
To dance and revel each where every hour.  
In night to dance currantoes curiously,  
And make love after ones own fantasy:  
Without approving how 'tis tedious,  
(And worse than poison) near from out the house,  
To step a foot without the guard of eyes,  
Or the dead jealous looks of worse spies.  
No not to dare out of a window peep,  
(Such spies (like to familiars) 'bout her keep)  
The thought of these things did me ample good,  
Tickled my sense and did inflame my blood.  
To live a Recluse or an Anchors life,  
Galled my sick heart, and filled it full of strife.  
From hate of which, and from a life so strict,  
My colour changed and I grew ●●adly sick.  
Yet did my Churchman with such love me hold,  
That I was loath my griefs cause to unfold:  
Which notwithstanding of himself he found,  
Knowing that hard it was of common ground,  
To make a private walk, or so enclose it,  
As law, or scandal would not make him lose it.  
Again he knew in vain was art and skill,  
To mewe a woman up against her will:  
And hence he 'gan contemplate and devise,  
How he might rid me best in honest wife,  
Without reproach to either, or misdoubt,  
Which by a marriage thus he brought about.  
First he makes Rumour blaze abroad I was,  
Near of his kin, and that I did surpass  
The best for qualities and noble arts,  
Commending my chaste life and choicest parts.  
Good Priest he used me much by much too well:  

e The Cardinal first bought her of her mother for money and after gave money to marry her honestly from him.  His goods me bought, his goods me so did fell.  
And now it happed an innocent young man,  
Of comely shape to me a suitor came,  
Who not acquainted with the sly deceits  
Of Romish Courtesans nor their sweet baits  
Did think himself to have most happy sped,  
If it might be his fortune me to wed.  
And I that feared left he should know my doing,  
took his first motion, (shame loves little wooing.)  
So frogs are often caught for better fish,  
And rashness makes us taste a poisoned dish.  
My husbands long expected wish was lost,  
And in his choice he found his fortunes crossed.  
Now what I was and am he amply finds,  
Sees all my breath-turnes and lascivious winds.  
And thereupon he curbed and kept mein,  
Thinking that rigour, virtue back would bring.  
But when he saw that to his painful lure,  
I would not stoop, he takes a way more sure:  
Now he begins to play the Hypocrite,  
As if all malice were excluded quite,  
And speaks me fair, and seems both sad and ill,  
That his distastes had tyrannizd my will.  
Now he carresses, courts and is so kind,  
That with his sugared words he made me blind,  
And from that music rang so sweet a chime,  
That he became soon Lord of me and mine.  
My lewels, rich apparel, movables,  
My plate, and all my other riches else,  
My bagd-up coin, my coin at interest,  
And all what else he had at his request:  
To purchase land which he to me would give,  
He aiming but t'enjoy whilst he did live.  
But he no sooner had my goods his prey,  
When he from Rome in private steals away.  
To France he came & there the French King served,  
And in his wars was slain as he deserved.  
Thus was I left forsaken all alone,  
My cardinal dead that might have eased my moan,  
My mother likewise closed up in her grave,  
Whose cunning in extremes, extremes could save.  
Of all my riches nothing now was left me,  
But what (save fate) by none could be bereft me:  
Which was a little of my youth behind,  
Remained to comfort my despairing mind.  
O cruel men, worse than the Crocodile,  
Bred of the poisonous slime of muddy Nile;  
You rail on us poor women, and our kind,  
Calling us false unconstant as the wind:  
And yet there's none so wavering as yourselves,  
Which strikes our ships 'gainst sorrows swallowing shelves.  
You say that we are full of all deceit,  
When you alone do us of glory cheat,  
Our faults are venial of simplicity,  
But yours proceed of inward villainy.  
Wast not enough, I bore my husband's blows,  
And mixed his sullen fro wnes with greater woes?  
But he must take all the world gave to me,  
And leave me nought but hateful beggary?  

f A right passion of a woman and it is called amongst the Italians a courtesans blessing.  May heavens worst plague his engraved bones torment,  
And all besides that hold his precedent.  
But to return to mine ill boding fate,  
And viewing my far worse than poor estate,  
I did resolve (rejecting bashful shame,  
And making but a shade of honest fame)  
For I before but as suspected was,  
And therefore as sound stuff did richly pass:  
As in this world do many women more,  
Who seeming right are nothing less than so)  
To hoist my Ships sail up to every air,  
My stolen goods by stolen pleasures to repair,  
And taught now to my cost ho v to be wife,  
I set to sale my body's merchandise:  
Proving more wisely subtle than the best,  
So well had need closed cautions in my breast,  
Till at the last in each tongue I was found,  
Of all the courtesans the most renowned.  
And now perceiving that all eiesin Rome  
Were fixed on my proceedings, as o'ercome,  
With sway of stricter rule, I cloaked my fall,  
That though unchafte, I was not general:  

g A common trick of such courtesans as are most skilful in their trade.  For only unto three that monthly paid me,  
I was a mistress, and there fully stayed me,  
From these each month an hundred crowns in pay  
I had, besides some other intrads otherway.  
I will not here my kingdoms rule discover,  
Nor how I used each subject or each lover:  
Only this know, my fancy still did choose,  
Which of the three I pleased, and which refuse:  
And him whom I did know to love me best,  
He should be sure to have my favours least:  
Besides, 'mongst them I would raise factions,  
The more to drive them into passions:  
And all the means I could, I still would try,  
To breed in them this lust-feind jealousy.  
Fears of strange kinds I nursed up in their breasts,  
Oft made them fight, oft smiled at their unrests:  
Then would I show that one of them I loved,  
More than the other two, and thereby moved  
The poor despised with new showers of gold,  
To buy my love that had nor hope nor hold:  
But all the pastime was when they would strive,  
How th'one the other from my house might drive,  
When two of them with gifts would hire me,  
That their third fellow might cashered be,  
And then how that same odd man would again,  
Pay double pay to cast off th'other twain,  
Whose bribes availing, my old tongue straightway  
Utters my brains wit in their large dispraise.  
This (said I) had red hairs, this noisome breath,  
This a tanned skin, this visagd lean like death:  
And such like toys, whilst they that were despised,  
Only to please me studied and devised,  
Offering me presents, so they might obtain,  
As heretofore my former grace again:  
But they no sooner mounted to the height  
Of my long looked for favour, but the weight  
Of vengeance 'gainst the third man so over bears then  
That but revenge no other thought comes near than,  
And they conclude, so I will him discard,  
And that his after plaints be near more heard,  
To pay as much as he did, twixt them two,  
To which I yielded without more ado,  
And so reserved a third place to myself,  
Which I employed taccumulate more wealth:  
And though these two did me maintain alone,  
And had great favours on my fortunes thrown;  
Yet that availd not, thankless lust which gained it,  
" Like fire did seek to waste what did maintain it.  
" A little gall 'mongst honey doth no harm,  
" And winter frosts instructs us to live warm.  
" Who never warred knows not the sweet of peace,  
And sloth doth never kindle brook his ease:  
So now and then my youths had I not crossed,  
They had been flown and I their loves had lost:  
This made me mix sedition with their joy,  
And symbolise their sweets with some annoy.  
One while I would (feigning myself in debt,)  
Borrow of them and day for payment set:  
But that same day of payment never came,  
For when 'twas come they durst not ask the same.  
A world of stratagems dwelled in my brain,  
By which their wealths I could at will constrain.  

h Another trick of an Italian Courtesan to force liberality from her favourites.  Oft would I sane I would become a Nun:  
Strait I would marry ere I were undone.  
To Naples now I would my journey take,  
By and by to Venice a strange voyage make:  
And therefore shortly must bid all adieu:  
For this would make them to discourse I knew.  
Then would I counterfeit myself with child,  
Framing strange longings; ecstasies most wild:  
Immediately I would with broken breath,  
Suggest a fever held me to the death:  
And thus into my treasuire retired,  
Without entreaty more than I desired.  
Thus how I used my best of friends you see,  
Who were, as gold to misers, true to me:  
For never did they fail, but at their day  
They did their monthly pension duly pay:  
Besides they gave me pendants wrought of gold,  
Bracelets and chains most curious to behold,  
Perfumed gloves, gowns, kirtles, vascaies muffs,  
Borders and tires, rebatoes, falls and ruffs,  
State-chambers richly decked and furnished,  
With arras hangings, downbed & feildbed:  
Right stuff of Naples, painting excellent,  
Made by the jews and from judea sent.  
True crystal mirrors and my picture right,  
In which I needs must say I took delight,  
Masks, fans and stockings, shoes & slippers too,  
With coach hire when I business had to do:  
All these I had from them, ye● discontent  
I was, because no more on me they spent,  
No cunning sleight there was money to get,  
But that my snares (to have the same) I set.  
What would you more? Shall I my thoughts bewray,  
And publicly my shameless life display?  
I was in fee with such as shops did keep,  
And sold the needements unto household meet:  
Even of the Butchers I had flesh at will,  
For which I paid my flesh (a mart too ill)  
Nay unto humble Porters I would show  
Kindness, before my coin I would let go:  
Such was my base and more than muddy mind,  
That I forgot myself and stained my kind:  
Still would I borrow, but to pay did fail,  
Unless my bodies purchase might avail,  
No sooner got I coin by craft or rent,  
But to the bank or lombard strait it went,  
And albe mine old customers I knew  
Were paymen good, yet still I sought for new.  
Six have I had at once in one poor night,  
And pleased them all, my cunning had such might.  
Double so many have been in my house,  
Yet none thereof were ere suspicious:  
For by a back door they came in and out,  
And so the one the other robbed of doubt.  
In brief, so well I did bestir myself,  
No day overlooked me, but I gathered wealth:  
And for this purpose I did entertain,  
Abeldame old, a crafty cunning Quean,  
As subtle as eves serpent that old devil,  
And full as wicked as most damned evil:  
Who went in Rome a Progress up and down,  
Lying in Ambuscado through the town,  
T'intangle such poor birds within my snare,  
As of my customs uninformed are.  
To these she sectetly and smoothly goes,  
For well her Art and industry she knows,  
And finding that their wealth their wit exceeds,  
She 'gins to charm, and loves strange lesson reeds:  
Swears that I was a noble Roman borne,  
Whose husband was a gentle man forlorn,  
Exiled his country, for unluckily,  
He flew a man in fight most valiantly.  
And thus by these deceits I conquered strangers,  
Ever most curious to prevent the dangers  
Of cheaters, braggarts and the peacock slave,  
Whose words and clothes are all the wealth they have:  

i The Spaniard is a right bragadochio, and nothing so liberal the French man amongst courtesans.  For this I scorned the Spaniard out of measure,  
As one that loves his substance more than pleasure:  
But the brave Frenchman bounteous liberal,  
O him I liked and loved most of all:  
For all the gentlemen of that brave nation,  
Are courteous, free, and of a courtly fashion.  
Besides, I had a watchful heedy care,  
Of the spruce perfumed gallants to beware,  
Who think because theyare brave they must be loved,  
As if our souls were with their habits moved,  
Or for their faces are of good proportions,  
Therefore we women must make loves first motions,  
Thinking a dance, a vault or turn above,  
Is pay sufficient for our best of love:  
They think at their own hours they should enjoy,  
For a scotsiig, a song or such like toy.  
And thus they cousin many unlearnt creatures,  
Mocking our follies after our defeatures,  
Leaving repentance, nothing else about us,  
Because on them we are besotted thus.  
Again, my care did keep my body's frame,  
Sweet, pure and spotless as the brightest flame:  
My hands and face, whose fair admired was,  
Mine unseen parts for beauty did surpass.  
Little I drunk when I was at a feast,  
And to eat much at table did detest.  
Rarest composed perfumes I did inherit,  
To quicken sense and stir the drowsy spirit:  
As for mine entertainment or caresse,  
Admire did love it, it deserved no less;  
Were it when I abroad was, or when I  
Was in my chamber with strange company,  
Where every thing kept such well ordered place;  
That envy could not mix it with disgrace.  
Bedstoopes enameled, vallances of gold,  
Rich spangled plumes from greater Afiasold.  
Down beds clothed over with counterpoints of silk  
Sheets rich perfumed, and whiter far than milk:  
My night attire Italian work most rare,  
My cushion cloth embroidered thick and fair,  
My damask bags with precious powders priest,  
And casting pots of gold, rich as the best,  
With all those gauds that wanton Ladies have,  
Which on my cupboard cloth were placed brave.  
But above all, one thing most carefully,  
I did remember with a watchful eye,  
(And yet it is an usual common trick,  
With such as use themselves to paint and slick)  
Which was, no fusking breath should touch my face,  
Lest it my borrowed beauty should disgrace:  
For than my white and read would be descried,  
And mine adulteracy too plain espied.  
Briefly, I knew all Aretine by rot, 
k Aretine a most famous impudent wicked Italian Poet, who published certain strange and most unmodest rules for lust.   
And had him read and in acquaintance got,  
So that his booke-rules I could well discover  
To every ignorant, yet wanton lover,  
Yea thousand ways I knew by learning deep,  
Venus to wake, which else had been a sleep.  
But pardon me just heavens, I now repent,  
That my hot blood to loose sin did consent:  
Yet he that had butheard my modest speech,  
Would have supposed my faith had had no breach,  
My sober talk was with such strictness bound,  
That wisdoms self could not deserve my wound.  
In open show I seemed demure, precise,  
And my discourse was modest, humble, wife,  
And (had I pleased to show my skill) no eye  
Had beams to pierce to my deformity.  
I had an usual garb of sweet commerce,  
Which honeyed all, with whom I did converse,  
And by insinuation got such love,  
That I was pitied all the world above,  
And oft did hear as in the streets I walk,  
From the sad murmur of men's private talk.  
One say, Lo there a creature were she chaste,  
She worthy were of Kings to be embraced,  
Her like no world knows, nor her equal lives:  
Thus on my frailty each his verdict gives.  
And sooth to say in motion and discourse,  
I gracious was, and to persuade had force,  
So rarely could my Proteus art disguise,  
That I could blear and blind best seeing eyes:  
Abroad by wisdoms rule my course was led,  
And lovely I could wantonize in bed.  
This was the cause that many me esteem,  
Not as I was, but only as I seem.  
" Oft do we see a vicious word hurts more,  
" Then doth the vice itself which we abhor.  
" Like virtues self there's nothing half so fair,  
" And yet her shadow we esteem as rare.  
" All men do sooththemselues in their affection,  
" When knowledge tells then that they have perfection.  
" That Lady is unworthy any love,  
" That nothing hath in her wherewith to move,  
Such virtue is in virtue, where 'tis placed,  
That all desire with her beams to be graced:  
Which though not in their inward hearts doth grow,  
Yet out wardly they'll give thereof a show.  
This was the reason that I famous grew,  
And wan high favours 'mongst the Roman crew,  
So far that he no gentleman was thought,  
Who or not know me, or no knowledge sought.  

l Although it be lawful for courtesans to walk abroad in the day time, yet in the night they may not, unless they have some extraordinary warrant for the same.  Besides, this special privilege I had,  
Which other courtesans (throughspight) made mad,  
I durst walk out the night as well as day,  
Being franchized from tribute or from pay:  
Nor did I fear the surly Governor,  
Nor shreeves, nor catchpoles, sergeants with their power,  
Lest they should lead me with polluted hands,  
Into corrections house amongst strange bands:  
For I had ever some great Lord stood near me,  
Or Cardinals power that any where might bear me,  
With other champion's law-proofe and most stout,  
And they in all I did, did bear me out:  
For when 'twas known that such did me affect,  
Each officer did show me rare respect;  
Nor durst their hearts with one ill thought offend me,  
When they beheld how greatness did attend me.  
Seven years at least this golden time did last,  
(Whilst youth and beauty swiftly from me past)  
Living in pleasure (if I may that call  
Pleasure which hath no pleasing thought at all)  
For what delight could my poor heart possess,  
Or thoughts inherit in my wrctchednes.  
When I was fain to be loves slave to many,  
Yet knew who all loves, never loveth any.  
When I was forced 'gainst nature and 'gainst kind,  
New to create myself to every mind,  
To have less charter than a senseless beast,  
And most love that which most I should detest:  
Riches I mean; got with unlawful gain,  
Lost in a trice, though purchased with strange pain:  
To suffer all the worst of injuries,  
Madman's disdains, and fools soft flatteries:  
A sweeting goat, a snivelling nose to brook,  
A stinking breath, a leaden hanging look.  
And at the last even madness and strange rage,  
When loves strange fashion nothing can assuage,  
As once I proved, that in extremes did love,  
Thrice happic they that in a mean do move,  
That golden mean which makes all creatures blest,  
But woman's loves with reason will not rest.  
Besides the fear (O hell perpetual)  
Of french disease, of Leprous cureless scale,  
The Gonorea or the sharp Sarpego,  
The Pellirigo and the Malcaduco.  
All which are but a certain legacy,  
For such as use this common mystery.  
As for the care that every such live in,  
To hide corruption and to paint their skin,  
The hair to curl to help the loathsome breath,  
(Whose fasting scent is noisome unto death)  
To take between the brows away the hair,  
That smooth and white the table may appear,  
To make one look as fresh in winter time,  
As in hot summer or the springs chief prime:  
Of all which arts, the hell I'll not display,  
Since Roman Ladies use them every day.  
Yet O thrice happy she, and triple blest,  
Who under such hard edicts doth not rest.  
Too well we see what ere is violent,  
Wants strength of life, and is not permanent.  
No life may with the courtesans compare,  
Whilst she holds fast the glory of her fair:  
But when her rose and lilies are decayed,  
No life so base, so abject or dismayed.  
Hence came it once in time of holy lent,  
My well stunged conscience urged me to repent,  
And I resolved to change my leprosy,  
To spotless virtue and pure sanctity.  
And sure I think some blessed Genius wrought.  
This noble motion in my spotted thought,  

m The courtesans & jews in Rome are forced once or twice a week every lent to hear certain sermons, the one at S. Ambrose, the other at la Trinita, in which they dissuade and dehort, both the one and the other from their bad lives, and worse religion, & many times divers of both of these kinds are converted & become honest women & good christians  Or else a certain sermon which I heard,  
By whose dread judgements all my sins were feared,  
And hereupon I did dispose my heart,  
To humble penance and a contrite smart,  
Meaning to mend what I had done amiss,  
Making myself a Metamorphosis.  
My wanton life I changed and mine attire,  
Becoming new in body and desire.  
Rome stood amazed at her new convertite,  
Seeing me give my goods away in sight,  
To Monasteries and religious places,  
As holy creatures wont in such like cases.  
No sooner had I took on me religion,  
But strait I found distaste in mine opinion,  
Being altered more in habit then in mind,  
Approving still nature would follow kind.  
I viewing then for heaven I was unfit,  
Quickly retired and did relinquish it.  
Returning back from whence I came in haste,  
Soul-sick to see my goods and riches waste,  
Repenting that I so repented had,  
When reason would I rather should be sad.  
Thus to mine old trade, and the spew of hell,  
Only for gain, again I basely fell.  
Now stood my school door open to all vice,  
And that with such joy, art, and countenance nice,  
That in a while, my coffers got such store,  
They might compare with all they held before:  
And thus once more I came in reputation,  
But then I grew to have so proud a fashion  
Because I saw great states depend on me,  
That through disdain I found disdained to be:  
And now cold beauty made hot bloods grow cool,  
Self-love and blindness is the woman's fool.  
I will not tell, 'twill cause a blushing face,  
Of thirty one, the shameless foul disgrace;  
Or how in place of a good gentleman,  
I took to bed the cities common hangman  
Who when my courtesy he should requite,  
Before great numbers and in open sight,  
With whips did scourge me most injuriously,  
Mocking my fortunes and my misery.  
To which some few Lords hired him when they saw  
How baseness, pride & lust my course did draw.  
Nor will I here report my foul diseases,  
For such repeats all modest ears displeases:  
My rotten carcase, nor my visage pale,  
Over whose wrinkles, paint could not avail.  
But what of this? the soul having lost her shame,  
No marvel though the countenance do the same.  
For all this, yet I gave not o'er my trade,  
But of my wasted remnants profit made:  
For of such strength my credit was before,  
And such increase did issue from my store,  
That well enough I did maintain my state  
Respectless of the vulgars' idle prate.  
Besides, I had so good and bold a grace,  
That though all beauty had forsworn my face,  
Yet wit in stead of beauty did supply,  
And was assisted by an amorous eye,  
That each was glad my winter crop to take:  
Sted of my spring, and much thereof did make  
In wanton sports I was so youthful still,  
The world might take new precepts from my skill.  
Never (than me) danced air more light on ground,  
Nor Orpheus made his lute give better sound:  
But mine, no music was esteemed choice,  
And Angels learned their sphear-tunes from my voice  
Was never Lady yet that could rehearse,  

n This Poet many Italians both men and women have at their finger's ends, singing most of his sonnets, as they go openly in the streets.  So much as I of learned Petarcks' verse.  
Add unto this, my artful works most fine,  
Aracknes needle durst not war with mine.  
From whence it came some idle hours I blest  
With those soft labours more than all the rest.  
Sometimes in man's attire I took delight,  
To tread the streets of Rome, and by suns light,  
Mount on a warlike courser, proud as ire,  
With plumed crest, and eyes that sparkled fire,  
Whilst I as proudly up and down did ride,  
As fair Marfysa, or Rogero's bride.  
What shall I say? there's nothing came amiss  
To me of sports, which fit for Ladies is,  
In every game my knowledge was profound,  
And I could tell both how to heal and wound.  
Were it Mount cent, Primero or at chess,  
I won with most, and lost still with the less.  
At dice, at billiard board, at bowl or bow,  
Was none in Rome but I could overgo:  
And what I won, I greedily possessed,  
So strongly lucre lodged within my breast.  
But being loser, this was still my gain,  
The winner all my loss restored again:  
Nay when I played not, yet I won by play,  
And made my dicing gallants tribute pay:  
For sitting by, and marking who drew most,  
From him I took a tribute and impost:  
From every main at hazard, or great hand,  
My very eyes a custom did demand:  
Besides I had an art more great than this,  
Which gained me much, and this the substance is:  
When either I a jewel had over bought,  
Or stood possessed of trifles worthy nought,  
I mustered up my servants all or most,  
And they must rifle for it at their cost,  
Where each one striving to enhance the lot,  
When I gained least, 'twas six for one I got:  
Nay many nights I do remember well,  
An hundred crowns for one to me befell.  
In quittance of which favour, to such friends,  
A slender banquet was a full amends.  
Thus I deceived the easy trusting gull,  
And like the brier bush, robbed teme sheep of wool.  
Some I did clip, and some more close did shear,  
And some I cut into the flesh more near:  
Yet with such art, as not the envious  
Could tax my nature, as too covetous.  
But where I most got, there men did suppose,  
I gave most favour, and he lest did lose.  
My house was like a Prince's royal court,  
Whether the noblest spirits do resort,  
Where strangers meet and in commercement stand,  
French, English, Spanish, Dane and netherlands,  
Striving with mirth to spend the time away,  
And each an other with conceit to play.  
The finest spirits there did show their wit,  
Whilst vast uplandish rudeness learned by it,  
To make their knowledge civil: but gone thence,  
'twas hard if I escaped my recompense.  
If any Roman worthy made a least,  
I was the foremost and the chiefest guest:  
No meeting was without me, for 'twas said  
I gave them life, but absent all was dead.  
Then were the best days of my golden age,  
Silver being even disdained by my page.  
A world of Ducats I had forth at use,  
For usury I thought was no abuse.  
My house was stately, great and beauteous,  
Furnished with all things held miraculous:  
Hangings of arras or of needle work,  
In which did many a wanton story lurk,  
And painted o'er my gate, men might behold,  
loves stealing unto Dione in gold:  
Which unchaste moral ever seemed to say,  
None entered there but with a golden key.  
But those Saturnian days are past and gone,  
The thought whereof makes my sad soul to moon.  
But to return to my next misery,  

o There is no courtesan of account, but hath three sorts of men belonging unto her, the first is called her Curso, & he is the man that keepeth her Alaposta (as me Italian termeth it) by the month or by the year, as he pleaseth, giving her according to the price they agree upon. The second is her Bravo, and this is he which is her champion & swaggereth every where in her behalf, & in all her quarrels, seeketh to defend her small honour with his no little shame. The third & last is her Bello, and that is some neat, spruce, & well-favoured youth, on who she commonly doteth, being mad for his  Cupid enraged at mine impiety,  
And seeing how mine adamantine heart,  
Difdaind my lovers, and did even impart  
A scorn unto his Godhead, forth he draws  
His quivers worst, and spite of nature's laws.  
Even when my blood was turned to ice and snow,  
Makes me dote most and most adore his bow.  
Upon a wanton youth he sets my heart,  
Whose breast was proof against loves sharpest dart,  
And makes me with such violence to love,  
That never creature could more passions prove:  
Whilst he disdains as much as I desire,  
And is all water, I bright scorching fire.  

p The mad tricks which such foolish women that dote in love, will play, especially the Italians, no women in the would being like unto them to show true passions.  Alas, how oft have I with jealous frown,  
Run mad Medea like through all the town  
To seek him forth? who was no sooner found,  
But my best purchase was my greater wound.  
How little did I then respect my fame?  
Or note their scoffs which played upon my shame?  
How oft have my sad dreams brought me unto him  
And in imagmarcie arms to woo him?  
When waking, truth approaching 'twas not so,  
My madness hath made woe admire at woe.  
Barefoot I have forsaken my sad bed,  
My hairs about mine cares dishevelled,  
And run unto her door whom I supposed,  
Possessed my heaven and all my wealth enclosed:  
There have I railed, broke windows, beat the gate,  
And showed myself both mad and desperate.  

q It is a common course amongst Italian dames when they are in love and cannot obtain their desire to run to wise women, to sorcerers and such like to help them.  Alas how oft have I to witches gone,  
And unto sorcerers declared my moan;  
To see if they by charms or spells could move,  
And bring this wayward youth unto my love?  
Me thinks my hair stands up, and my mazed wits,  
Trembles to think upon my desperate fits.  
How I have digged the dead out of their graves,  
Whose peaceful bones, shame & respect should save.  
How I have turned the silver moon to blood,  
And falling rivers forced that still they stood?  

r The divers trinkets and knacks which witches use in their exorcisms.  Celestial footh-saying, verses most divine,  
Figures which magic strangely doth combine:  
Points crossed, waters pure and hallowed,  
Letters and names writ, circle's compassed,  
Bones of dead men, and virgin parchment right,  
Wax candles which sore corpses have been light:  
Burnt laurel, and the poison of a mare,  
Which when the colt is foald, men from her pare:  
The eyes of wolves, and images of wax,  
The blood of owls, the nostril-haires of cats,  
Enchanted knots, and strangest charactry,  
Mensis proflwium and the number three.  
And, to be brief, what ere this art doth hold,  
I put in proof with courage manlike bold.  
" But all in vain, 'tis madness when we trust  
" To find relief by any course unjust.  
And yet this was not all, my bribes, my gifts,  
Nay all my goods got by so many shifts,  
And purchased with such industry and pain,  
When youth and beauty in me did remain,  
My vineyards, houses, money and my land,  
And all what else my power did command,  
Within one year upon this youth was spent,  
In banquets, gifts, in masks and merriment:  
On this flint-hatted man, this most ingrate,  
And worst of earth, the stain of human state:  
Who even for all my cost (O this doth grieve me)  
With his poor presence, hardly would relieve me.  
But when he saw my empty coffers light,  
He flies my fortunes, and forswears my sight.  
It was my purse, not person he respected  
The first decard, the next must be neglected.  
O you that rich in beauty are, and know  
The strength ofeies, & what from thence doth flow:  
Know they must fade: then wisely spend your youth,  
Lest scorned beggary bring hated ruth.  
But above all, beware the plague of love,  
Lest you my torment and affliction prove.  
Beware the Catamits, these gallant slaves,  
Who lie to swallow you, like open graves:  
Their oaths are perjuries, O do not hear them,  
Their soothe, falsehoods, fly & come not near them:  
For sea-nymphs like, if you but hear them woo you  
They first enchant, and after doeundoe you.  
Learn by my loss to make your love again,  
For love without some profit, is base pain.  
When beauty and you goods have both one end,  
Who then will court you? where is then your friend?  
No friend is firm but riches, for they never  
Forsake their owners, but support them ever:  
Gold is to riveled age, the only crutch,  
She that is wealthy, still is loved much.  
But to return to my calamity,  
Being clean forsook of wealth, of youth & beauty:  
And nothing left with me but irksome age,  
Grey hairs, sunk eyes, and much distempered rage:  
And that my doting love, had now consumed,  
What fortune or endeavours had assumed,  
Leaving me nought but sickness in their place,  
And foul diseases, full of loathed disgrace.  
As first the stone, the torment of the rains,  
Next gout, that in my hands and feet remains:  
Ache in my thighs, the Rheume-drops in my head  
And almost de afe and blind, I live half dead:  
And that my gold threads (chains unto desire)  
Were now converted unto silver wire,  
Nor white nor red within my cheeks were found,  
My teeth (once pearl) now rotten and unsound,  
Mine eyes, whence love was wont to steal his flame  
Now inward sunk, lie conffind in their shame:  
And where in youth like 2 bright stars they burned  
Now into weeping fountains they are turned:  
My taste is gone, mine ear is dull disposed,  
From music found no sweetness is disclosed.  
My senses fail me, and mine inward spirit,  
Doth all my withered bodies ills inherit.  
What ere I learned, or what I wont to teach,  
Are now forgot, as worship, art or speech.  
My hoarse voice jars, and I sit dumb and mute,  
I can nor dance, nor sing, nor touch my Lute:  
My wits sharp edge is blunted, judgement tired,  
And as of late I am no more admired.  
Now are my faculties to curse and wail,  
To groan, to cough, to spawl, to spit, to rail,  
With waspish anger and distemperate rage,  
Vexing myself and others with mine age.  
As for my means of life how now I live,  
I will unfold, though to repeat I grieve.  
To spin is most my trade, or else to wash,  
To sell old fripery stuff or such like trash:  
Make paintings, or strange waters, or sell late,  
Some hallowed candles at a Church's gate:  
And now and then I use for a poor shift,  
To play the Ruffiana for a gift.  
Thus wastes my life, whilst all I seek to serve,  
Only to maintain life, which else would starve:  
And to discharge my chambers quarters rend,  
I make a needful good of discontent,  
Nothing augmenting more my misery,  
Then dying daily, that I cannot die.  
O what a hell is it unto my sense,  
When I but ponder on the difference,  
Betwixt my present state and former glory,  
And but recount the ruins of my story?  
How rich and fair I was, and how much honour,  
Depended on the man that had my favour.  
When every worthy eye on me did wait,  
And I sat towered up in Prince's state,  
When both my morning's walks, and evening pleasures,  
My recreations and all minutes leisures,  
Were with observant duetic furnished,  
And I with every honour garnished.  
But now (alas) I am disdained of all,  
And made slave to my slaves, thrall to my thrall,  
Whilst those whose very sights I could not brook,  
Now as disdainfully at me do look.  
They call me withered hag, bawd, and she bear,  
Whilst those whom I did love and hold most dear,  
Mocked both affliction and my woes at once,  
Hating themselves because they loved me once:  
Nay so much changed am I from what I was,  
That bashfulness doth blush as I do pass.  
And yet wretch that I am, this is not all,  
That grieves my heart, or breaks mine inward gall.  
The object is nor poverty nor age,  
Which binds me to this woeful pilgrimage:  
But this is it which grieves me above other,  
That being a beggar, I am yet a mother: 
s She was in hope her young daughter might have maintained her by her former trade, but it fell out otherwife.   
A wretched mother of a hapless child,  
Of all good fortune and fair stars beguiled.  
Young is the babe, nor can herself relieve,  
Nor I unto its wants one comfort give:  
She is a charge to me, who can sustain  
Myself nor her with anything but pain,  
And shall be more if this unlucky star,  
Against us women here in Rome make war,  
If o'er this Roman climate long it rain, 
t This Leo was a Pope of Rome, which took infinite delight in sports and vanities.   
We courtesans shall then fall in the wain.  
O had my daughter comed when I had store,  
Then had I had no reason to deplore.  
Leo the tenth I oft have ta'en delight  
In every idle toy of smallest might.  

u This Clement was Pope at such time as the French me sacked Rome, & took him, & other Cardinal's prisoners.  Clement his kinsman I did like wise know,  
Who by the French Kings army got much woe,  

x This pope was he that gave to his grandchild the Dukedom of Parma, & Placenza in italy, which they hold until thus day.  Old Paul i saw, who to his great names story,  
Added the style Farnesis for a glory.  

y She here nameth 5 pope's, In whose time, she lived well, till in her old age.  juleo the third succeeded in his place:  
And now Saint Peter's Chair so full of grace,  

z This Paul the fourth, was a very severe man, he banished all Courtesans & Jews out of Rome, but within a while, they were recalled back again And thus much for the gloss of this tale of Paulina.  Is held by Paul the fourth, a cruel man,  
Who reigns a tyrant o'er the Courtesan:  
Blasting our glories even with his look,  
And cursing us with candle, bell and book.  
Of the first four which I in order named  
I must speak well, or else be highly blamed.  
But of this Paul who would heavens keys possess,  
I must affirm he was too merciless:  
And by his rigour seeketh to withdraw,  
Men from free love, by cruel penal law  
Forbidding by an edict general,  
That Rome shall hold no courtesan at all:  
But that on pain of death they shall depart,  
Or else endure the scourge of greatest smart.  
O Paul, thine errors fault thou dost not view,  
Nor how great dangers will hereof ensue:  
For if all courtesans, or their defect,  
Which Rome so much doth honour and affect,  
Shall be exiled, and leave this well known ground,  
What stranger then to live here will be found?  
If they be banished hence, through thy great hate,  
Rome will be desert, and unfortunate.  
All will be gone, or else in woman's stead,  
Each man will have for lust his Ganymede:  
Amongst all evils we the least should choose,  
Take women then, Burdashes do refuse.  
The first is natural, although a crime,  
Th'other horrid, damned the spew of time,  
O times, O manners, O unlucky age,  
O Rome once master, now worse than a page!  
Wast not enough that civil mutiny,  
Sold suffer all the world to pray on thee,  
And to have seen so long on Tiber's bank,  
Blood thirsty war, and famine, lean and lank;  
But thou thy noble liberty must lose,  
For which thou ought'st to weep as much as those  
Thine ancient monuments which now to dust  
Are turned? O who to mortal things would trust!  
Dear daughter, dearer unto me then life,  
Why wert thou borne in such an age of strife?  
Why have I lived to see thee miserable,  
And cannot help our woes insufferable?  
Alas must these gold tresses, these bright eyes,  
loves diamonds, and stars of Cupid's skies,  
That lively rose and lily in thy cheek,  
That pearl-set mouth, that forehead smooth & sleek,  
And that fine waste, whence men do rareness scan,  
Be made a prey, not to a gentleman,  
But to some base groom or artificer?  
Do thus thy stars mark thy dishonour?  
Have I for this so chairely brought thee up,  
And made-thee taste of learning's seasoned cup?  
O bleslesse girl, through such indignity,  
To lose thy virgin bloslomes purity.  
Was this thy glorious youth? here did I mean,  
To make my age's staff whereon to lean?  
Thinking in lieu of all my troubles past,  
In thee I should reap comfort at the last.  
O cruel heavens, unrelenting fate,  
To wage a war 'gainst me of so mu●h hate.  
Wast not enough that I was plagued before,  
But I must see my torments more and more,  
Renew in her that should be all my bliss,  
And ruin what soever glorious is?  
My voice is stopped, grief's master of my words,  
And tears are all the talk mine eyes affords.  
O you that shall by chance but read my story,  
(Though few to hear of my mishap are sorry)  
Pardon my lavish speech, it is a wrong  
That doth to age and women still belong.  
Since now I have my life discoursed at large,  
I will break off, lest I myself orecharge:  
Wishing that as I here end suddenly,  
So this my life may end as happily.  
But fortune is not half so kind I know,  
Rather she doth preserve me for more woe.  
Then you fair creatures of my sister-hoode,  
I wish this my discourse may do you good.  
Beware in time, give over whilst you may,  
Night will approach, how long so ere is day.  
Ill gotren goods are seldom long enjoyed,  
And ill foundations quickly are destroyed.  
Wretched your states are, and your lives are bad,  
Though the beginning's sweet, the end is sad.  
O leave off then whilst you have youth and time,  
For early sorrow purges our worst crime.  
Look up to heaven before your sins be grown,  
And ask for mercy ere your faults be known.  
Remember that a spotless youth still bears,  
The noble marks of honourable years.  
The beauty of the body is but wind,  
She truly fair is, that is fair in mind.  
When we are dead we leave behind our shame,  
And carry with us nought but our good name.  
'tis ill to sin, but much worse near to mend:  
A virtuous life doth make a worthy end.   
FINIS.