THE Fissher-mans' Tale: Of the famous Acts, Life and love of CASSANDER a Grecian Knight.  
Written by FRANCIS SABIE.  Cedant arma togis, concedant laurea linguis. 
Imprinted at London by Richard johnes, at the Rose and Crown, near S. Andrew's Church in Holborn, 1595.   

To the right Worshipful, his very good friend and Benefactor, M. Henry Mordant, son and sole heir to the right Honourable the Lord Mordant, Francis Sabie wisheth full fruition of external and internal felicity.  
ABashed (right Worshipful) at the excellency of your greatness, astonished at the report of your prudence: comforted notwithstanding, at the remembrance of your accustomed clmencie: animated at the consideration of your excellent virtue: more confidently do I present unto your Worship these few untutord lines, the travel of my rude Mule, and untimely fruits of my first spring. The ground where they grew, as it needed much manuring, and diligent tillage, even so the Gardener to make amends, was none of the skilfullest, but lacked that cunning which riper years and longer experience might peradventure have supplied, whereby the fruit, which otherwise would have been delicate, be changed and turned to mere wildings. Yet considering that the stomach overcloyd with dainty and sweet junkets, is oft times very much recreated with meaner and harsher meats: So your Worship sometime wearied with high and serious affairs, may at length vouchsafe to cast a glance upon these my unlettered poems, which will perhaps bring no lesser content than delectation unto your grave and stayed mind, unto whom, and unto whose noble predecessors, I do acknowledge me and my weak parents so much to be and have been indebted, that should the gods allot unto the term of my life, Nestor's years, bestow upon me Croesus' wealth, and endue me with Tully's elequence, yet were I neunr able with long endeavour, incessive gifts, or fineness of Oratory, to make satisfaction, requite, or set forth half that praise and duty, which is of me, to you to be performed, for so great and so many inestimable benefits: should I go about to rehearse them, I should undertake a matter as hard to be compassed, as is Aetna to be removed. These rude lines, penned at vacant hours, partly to shun the untolerable crime of ingratitude, partly to make known in some measure, my bounden duty, I have presented to your Worship, praying you to vouchsafe them your acceptance ', as Alexander did of a cup of cold water, offered unto him of a simple man, which not doubting of, I hope hereafter I shall be better able to present your Worship with some polished and profitable piece of my travel.  
Your Worships ever at commandment FRANCIS SABIE.   

The Fissher-mans' TALE.  
THE darksome shade of cloudy night was past,  
Bright Lucifer brought in the cheerful day,  
With fire-breathing steeds light Titan drawn,  
Into his chariot newly mounted was.  
Rose-cheeked Aurora with a sanguine hue,  
Her friendly Phoebus' lovingly did greet,  
Now weary corpses which quietly enjoyed,  
The pleasing sleep of close and silent night,  
Roused up themselves, awakened with the notes  
And dulcet tunes of little singing birds:  
Which on green boughs amid the shady fields,  
With many coloured blossoms decked did sit.  
Calm was the air, sweet-breathing Zephyrus  
Did greet fair Ver, with mild and gentle blasts,  
Each god seemed now on mortal wights to smile,  
Nothing did lack to solace pensive minds,  
I shaked of sleep, and took in hand a reed,  
A reed whereto was bound a slender line,  
And crooked hook, wherewith for my disport,  
Walking along the banks of silver lakes,  
Oft times I used with false deceiving baits,  
To pluck bright-sealed fish from Crystal waves,  
Forthwith I bended steps unto the streams,  
And pleasant meres, not far from mine abode,  
Needless it were here to rehearse what joys  
Each thing brought then unto my doleful mind.  
The little Menowes leapt above the waves,  
And sportive Fish▪ like wanton Lambs did play.  
I thrust myself into a Wherrie boat,  
Or little bark, myself was sails and oars,  
One while I rowed with rudder as I could,  
Guiding the boat, which went of own accord,  
One while assayed the greedy Fish to take,  
And twitched them up which nibbled at my bait.  
Aurora's beauty now 'gan vade away,  
Titan had run just half his wonted race,  
I with Agenor's daughter carried was,  
All unawares unto the foaming sea:  
So mindful was I of these fond delights,  
And so unmindful of return to shore.  
But see what chanced a, sudden storm arose,  
Skies looked black, clouds overwhelmd the skies,  
Mists rose, wind blue, ship-shaking Boreas.  
Storm-bringing Auster, sayl-hoysting Adria  
Raged all at once as once when angry juno  
Sued to the wind-god for Aeneas bane,  
Seas swelled, ropes cracked, sails ren●, shipmen cried out,  
Ay me, poor wretch, my little fleeting bark,  
Leapt like a feather, tossed with blasts of wind:  
One while it seemed the lofty skies to touch,  
Straightways I thought it went to Pluto's lake,  
No hope of life at all I did expect,  
I which even now laid baits for greedy fish,  
Thought now my body should feed greedy Fish.  
But winds and fortune long together strove,  
Winds seeking to subvert me in the deep,  
Fate to preserve and keep me from distress,  
Fortune prevailde long time, thus being tossed,  
Fearing each blast should have me overwhelmd,  
My little bark skipped on a rock at length,  
A rock whereon a cabin small was built,  
Built all of stone, so firmly and so sure;  
That neither force of winds, nor beating waves,  
Was able any whit to make it yield.  
Here was I cast, here did my Wherry rest,  
Half drowned with waves, half rend with raging winds  
Which making sure, I higher did ascend,  
Unto the bower which there seated was,  
Which on the East side had a little door,  
And looking in, engraven there I saw  
God Neptune with a threetinde mace in hand,  
There Triton stood with trumpet made of shells,  
And Tethis decked with rich Smaragds and gems,  
There Proteus pictured was, and Naiads fair,  
With all such water-nymphes as used those lakes,  
On th'one side in a stony seat there fate,  
(for seats there were in stone most finely made)  
An aged man, his head more white than milk,  
Or new fallen snow, which lies on Scythian hills:  
His beard excelled the Alabaster fair,  
Or Dove, whereon no blackish spot is seen:  
A God he seemed, not like a mortal wight:  
His countenance me thought presaged no less.  
Forthwith saluting him in seemly sort,  
I pardon craved for my rash enterprise,  
So boldly which presumed to come near,  
Mollest and vex his censured Deity,  
Sometimes excusing my presumption,  
With force of storm which thither did me drive,  
Affirming fear and safeguard of my life,  
Did make me look into his sacred cell,  
Straightway I craved his aid in such distress:  
Whose trembling joints might move him unto ruth.  
And if he were some God, as I suppos'de,  
That he would cause the tempest then to cease,  
And I with sweet perfumes would oftentimes,  
His sacred Altars polish and bedeck:  
He lifting up his grave and senile head,  
Where at his hoary locks and hair did shake.  
My son, he said, fear not, lay fear aside,  
Myself such homage I do not vouchsafe,  
I am as thou, a mottall man, no god.  
I have abode myself no small mishaps,  
I which sometimes have also been distressed,  
Do learn to rue such men as be oppressed.  
Fear not I say, these waves and blustering winds  
Will not last long, they cannot long endure:  
Come near my son, some god hath made request  
To Aeolus, to send abroad his blasts  
For some intent: or else they be by force  
Burst out of caves, but how so ere it is,  
Be sure they will not thus conttinue long:  
For (men say) nothing violent is permant.  
Come near, sit down, sit down here in this seat,  
I sat: he took a twinkling Lute in hand,  
This (saiih he) my wealth, my breath and food,  
The only joy of my long-hated life.  
Father I said, how shall I now requite  
Half part of this your undeserved goodwill,  
Whilst streams do run into the frothy seas,  
While fish in lakes, while birds abide in woods,  
Of this your kindness shall my Muse recite:  
A joyful Ditty where so ere I live.  
And sith you have such honour me vouchsafed,  
In your grave presence as to give me place,  
Might I not seem too bold if I should ask  
Your name, your lineage, and the great mishaps  
You have abode, for surely you be sprung  
Of noble lineage, and no small events  
You suffered have, which be the eausers of  
This pensive, sad, and solitary life.  
Thrice shaken this aged Grandsire his white head,  
And frost-white locks, wherewith a shower of tears  
Like Crystal drops from Myrra●s tree which fall,  
Bedewde his withered cheeks and ashy face;  
Endeavouring thrice to speak, in steed of words  
Came nought but sighs, and grief-bewraying sobs:  
And when the cloud of dolour 'gan remove,  
He braced at length into these doleful terms,  
A woeful tale thou bids me to rehearse,  
Whereon to think mine inward senses bleed,  
Ah how my soul with dolour is surprised.  
When I record those ills which I have borne,  
Stay, stay a little, yet I cannot speak.  
Hereat he stayed, and thus again began.  
A Grecian am I borne, sprung by descent  
Of stout Achilles' noble line and race.  
A Champion once invincible I was,  
A lover once, and blithe Arcadian swain,  
Ay me what shall I say, that now I am?  
A Fisherman now will I say I am.  
Noble by birth, a Champion in feats,  
A lover fond I was by fortune's spite,  
A shepherd to obtain my wished for love,  
A fisherman to convict cruel fate.  
So many times which altered mine estate.  
Herewith he stayed, and thus again began:  
I was (quoth he Menalchus' son, an Earl,  
Of Prince and people, king and commons loved,  
I was his sole and only son, in whom  
Moore treasure he reposed, than ever did  
Aeneas in Asca●ius his delight.  
I called was Cassander then by name,  
In chivalry and valiant feats of Arms,  
Even from my childhood was I trained up,  
joying in nothing but in fight and war:  
I named was a Grecian Conqueror,  
Thought of Achilles worthily to spring:  
But not contented with that great renown,  
Which in my native soil I had achieved,  
I farther went, and with revenging sword,  
Thought for to purchase never-dying fame:  
Mine aged Sire, both void of son and heir,  
As careless of his life and wealth I left,  
He like a turtle-dove, when I was gone,  
Alas, how doth mine heart to tell it bleed?  
Pining away, did end his days with grief.  
Upon a Steed, like huge Bucephalus,  
I took my way unto the holy land,  
And what exploits, what noble feats in Arms,  
What warlike deeds among the Pagan folk,  
Arch-enemies to the holy land I wrought.  
I need not here recite, they cannot die,  
Fames trump hath sounded them throughout the world  
Fame hath them scrowled in her register:  
There was I called Knight of the holy Camp,  
From thence I went to Philip Macedon,  
O there what laud, what love of Virgins fair,  
What ever-during fame and praise I won,  
What credit? makes me joy, and grieve to think.  
Yet not herewith content, to Thessaly  
I went, from thence unto the barbarous Geteses,  
The flinty Geteses for chivalry, the Geteses  
For mine exploits, renowned me likewise  
Returning thence, to Boheme land I came,  
There found I that I chief wished for,  
Mathias who ware their imperial crown,  
With all his subjects clad in armour bright,  
Full forty thousand fight men he had:  
With magnanimous Captains many one,  
Intended to wage war against the Turk.  
And to besiege a walled Pagan town,  
For that his daughter therein was detained,  
Betrayed, and falsely stolen away from him:  
Whom Amurah, Lord of the Turkish band,  
Was minded for his Paramour to keep.  
Aged Mathias whose white hoary hairs,  
Were fit for the bed than direful war,  
Even like a Tiger moved unto wrath,  
Bearing a Lance courageously in hand,  
Did march on foremost like a valiant Knight,  
Soon came these tidings to the Pagan's ears,  
Who made provision for to stop his host.  
A mighty army they did also raise,  
Great Amurah himself there present was,  
He near the city did his host encamp,  
Where fair Lucina was in prison kept.  
Mathias marched on, and at the length  
Near to the Pagans army did he come:  
Ruddi● Aurora had even now removed  
The canopy of cryme-concealing night,  
Both armies met, I did myself intrude,  
Unknown of all into the Christians host,  
On both sides then war-mooving drums did sound,  
Shrill Trumpets blew, than Lances went to wrack:  
Spears broke, guns cracked, armour flew in sunder,  
Then might you see some hale with both their hands  
Shafts from their limbs, which wrought their fatal bane.  
I like a Lion foremost of them road,  
And entrance made into the pagans host.  
The Christians followed, and in midst of them  
Old King Mathias like a Giant wroth,  
He wondered what I was that so them holp,  
Some said I was an Angel come from heaven,  
Some of their heads, some of their legs and arms,  
I did bereave, I slew whom ere I met,  
None durst withstand my force, you might have seen  
Turks fly as thick as Doves do from an Hawk,  
Me thinks I hear them still to cry and say,  
He is a Devil, no man, which thus doth fight,  
Some said, it is the Knight of the holy Camp,  
Who lately so endamaged our men.  
Some said, I know not whom he is, but sure  
Whom ere he meets he sends to Pluto's lake.  
When Amurah, chieftain of the Turkish host  
Saw this, he waxed full of wrath and fear,  
Flee, flee, he cried, let's flee, else shall we die,  
This devil amongst them will us all destroy.  
Then 'gan the Turks to flee as fast as lambs.  
From greedy wolves as Deer from Lion's jaws  
Oh than what massacres of them we made,  
Full thirty thousand Turks we slew before  
They entered in the ports of Belo town,  
We rushed in before they shut the gates.  
Then cried Mathias, Priam's famous town,  
Near bought so dear the rapture of fair Helen,  
As Belo shall now my Lucina's rape.  
Then might you see a lamentable sight,  
Young infants sprawling on the points of spears,  
Fair Virgins drawled by their yellow hair,  
Old bedrid men 'gan rise up now for fear:  
And seemed with us to gripple, but in vain,  
No passage was through all the martyred streets,  
Dead bodies lay as thick as Oaks in woods.  
The channels ran with cursed Pagans blood,  
And nought was heard but howling in the town,  
Great Amurah himself fled to an hold:  
With brazen walls enclosed round about,  
No entrance was, draw-bridges were plucked up,  
From us he escaped and saved his life,  
Lucina looked out from a window high,  
And saw her aged fire in armour bright,  
Ay me, poor wretch, she cried, what shall I do,  
Help father, help, or else I perish now.  
Then all at once we ran against the gates,  
Whereat an Eunuch keeper of the Goal,  
And Concubines of Amurah his Lord,  
Misdoubting what might unto him betide,  
Ran to Lucina with an iron blade,  
This shall quoth he, dispatch and end thy days,  
If for my life thou wilt not pardon get.  
Then skreekt she out requiring present aid,  
Or else she should be slain of him outright,  
We gave our oaths if he would save her life,  
Vnbar the ports, and yield to us the keys,  
He should escape, he should his life enjoy,  
Then were the doors unlocked, we had the keys,  
Among the Turk his concubines we ran,  
There found we fair Lucina who with arms  
Vplist to heaven, gave God eternal thanks:  
Then kneeled she down, and Crystal tears her face  
Bedewing, thanked her grave and aged Sire,  
Protesting that inviolate she was,  
And yet untouched of Turk or pagan slave,  
Old King Mathias with a iowfull heart,  
Embraced his daughter, kissing her right oft,  
O gods (quoth he) I yield you hearty praise,  
Who once have granted me to have again  
Mine only daughter, solace of my life,  
Staff of mine age, prolonger of my days:  
Then turning unto me, he kneeled down,  
And took his Crown off from his hoaried head,  
O Knight he said, what ere thou be, thou hast  
My life, my fame, and daughters credit faued:  
Take here my crown, to thee it doth belong,  
Take here my Mace and Diadem so clear,  
I give thee them, thou hast them both deserved,  
Take here my daughter, thou shalt be my son,  
Whereat I blushed, and thus reanswered him:  
O King, such honour is not to me due,  
Keep still thy crown, I do it not desire,  
Give only praise unto th' immortal gods,  
Which have me sent, and prospered in this war.  
As for thy daughter, she no doubt shall have  
A Prince more worth, and greater than am I,  
I must departed, I may no longer stay,  
Fate hath not here appointed me a place.  
Thus after many thanks and sad farewells,  
Left I Mathias with his joyful men,  
Rejoicing in the spoils which they had got,  
And sorrowful for my departure thence,  
I took that way which Fortune did me lead,  
Seeking more fame through countries far unknown  
By chance I pass th' Arcadian fields and plains,  
Where many thousands milk-white herds do feed,  
Where many troops of love-bewitched swains  
Sat under shades, and leave-behanged trees,  
Resounding ditties to th●● trulls on pipes,  
Or telling ancient histories of love.  
Now Titan's circle mounted up on high,  
The duskish back of Leo 'gan to burn:  
Field-tilling slaves which laboured all day,  
With ardent heat waxed weary now and faint.  
Upon a Palfrey swifter than the wind,  
I roved through the swayn-frequented plains:  
And casting up mine head, by chance I saw  
A seemly troop of shepherdess fair.  
I saw them all, oh would I had not seen,  
I saw one Lass far comelier than the rest,  
A peerless piece, an heart-delighting girl,  
An heavenly Nymph, what shall I say I saw,  
An hapless fair, a sweet unlukie Dame,  
I saw her, and I know not whether Fate,  
Or Cupid's stroke this rare event did cause:  
My Steed, ere while whom rains could not detain,  
But swifter than a shaft he seemed to fly:  
Now vaulted up, and force to prickling spurs  
Can not make run, and post as erst he did:  
But still he seemed to gaze upon the maid:  
As one enamoured of her comely shape.  
Ah how she pleased my love-new strooken mind,  
Ah how her feature did my senses like:  
Her cheeks excelled the whitest Scythian snow,  
Or Alabaster, finely mixed with red:  
Her eyes like pearls, or Diamonds enclosed  
In yellow gold, or metal fine and rare?  
Her teeth like pegs of ivory, her lips  
Resembled Cherries of a sanguine hue,  
Her hair as yellow as the precious gold:  
By these I judged of members which were hid,  
Alas of them far better did I judge.  
She seeing her so viewed on of me,  
Began to change her countenance so sweet,  
Even like Aurora when her Phoebus fair  
She welcommeth, her colour went and came.  
Then who had seen her, would have doubtless said,  
A goddess she, no mortal wight had been,  
In beauty she did Venus far surpass:  
In modesty Diana she did stain,  
Good Lord, how long could I have found in heart,  
T'ave gazed on her mind-reioycing shape.  
Whole days, whole years, my life I could have spent  
In viewing her. But modesty forbade,  
I went from thence, but altogether lame,  
And wounded with a fire-burning dart,  
My senses sad, heart metamorphosed.  
Nought thought I on, but on her beauty rare.  
Not far from thence I saw an aged heard,  
Feeding his flock, I made inquiry of him,  
What Imp it was that was so passing fair,  
What was her name, and of what lineage come.  
She is (quoth he) supposed the daughter of  
Old Thirsis, she herself doth know no less?  
She is not so, I heard him oft times say,  
(He is my brother) that he found her young  
Wrapped in a scarlet mantle, rich in price  
As once he passed by the silver stream  
Of Humber, lying in a wherrie boat,  
He brought her up, full many would her have,  
But she rejecteth all, I muse at it.  
I road on to a little village town.  
Not far from thence, where all these shepherds dwelled,  
Long would it be to tell what grief I bided,  
Impatient was I both of sleep and rest,  
My palfrey whom so carefully I fed.  
And tendered erst more dear than mine own self,  
Now in a little cottage did I shut.  
Scarce had he meat my mind was altered quite.  
Thus when I saw my senses out of frame,  
A thousand contrarieties in my mind,  
A storm of sobs, and shower of tears sent forth.  
I braced into these variable terms.  
How now Cassander, what new rage is this?  
What unacquainted thoughts possess the mind?  
What hast thou drunk of Sirces' poisoned cups?  
Or hath Medea's charms enchanted thee?  
Art thou in love? why what is loue●a toy,  
A lustful care, a sence-bereaving wish,  
Hast thou so long kept chaste Diana's laws?  
And now wilt stoop to wanton Venus' lure?  
Was thou not termed a Grecian Conqueror?  
Thought of Achilles worthily come,  
Was thou not called Knight of the holy camp?  
And wanst each where even skie-surmounting fame▪  
Did not the Geteses deem thee Minerva's son,  
Didst thou not once subdue fierce Amurah:  
And tookst from him Lucina fair by force:  
And shall a woman conquer thee? shall now  
A little boy make thee to stoop and yield?  
Was thou not lately proffered to thy wife,  
Mathi as daughter, diadem and crown,  
And now dost like a silly country drudge?  
A shepherds trull, come of so base a stock.  
What will the Eagle smile upon a wren?  
Or will the Lion look upon a mouse?  
And shall Cassander, Lord Menalchus' son,  
Vouchsafe to look upon so base a girl?  
No fool, be not so ignoble in thought,  
Ah, but she's fair, she's passing beautiful,  
Her eie-delighting shape hath won mine heart,  
Love is a god respecting no degree,  
Love is a god and will be honoured.  
Love conquers all things: it hath conquered  
Apollo once, it made him be a swain.  
Yea mighty Mars in arms invincible,  
It forced hath to lay aside his spear,  
Love made the sea-god take a Wesils' shape,  
Yea mighty jove, whose rage makes earth to shake,  
Love made to take the snowwhite shape of Bull:  
And shall not then Cassender yield to love,  
He mortal, it a conqueror of gods:  
Yield? yield he will, Yield? yield he must,  
Necessity him urgeth so to do:  
Then in a rage, I rhrew aside my sword,  
I broke my spear, impediments to love.  
My Steed, my never-tyred Steed I ●olde,  
Who had me gained such far-surpassing fame,  
And to myself I smilinglie did say,  
Yield Mars to Venus, weapons unto gowns.  
I cast aside my warlike vestiments,  
I cut mine hair, in steed of silken robes,  
I bought a suit of country ruslet cloth:  
A pair of slops I put upon my legs,  
A leather scrip I hung about my neck,  
And for my palfrey, a cut-taile dog I got.  
I bought me sheep, and coats, I was content  
To be a shepherd to obtain my love:  
Or that enough, I might but see my love.  
But now myself a while I mean to leave  
Oppressed with a thousand sundry woes,  
A little will I speak of Flora's case,  
Who having seen me, was incensed with love.  
She sighed forthwith, and judged me the fairste,  
And beautifulst that ever nature framed,  
She left her mates, and thought how she by toil  
Extinguish might this new conceived flame:  
But 'twas in vain. For as a sparkle fallen  
Among dry straw by chance, or withered leaves  
Is not extinguished by and by, but grows  
In time into an indelible flame:  
Even so my Flora, into whose chaste breast  
A little spark of Cupid's fire hath chanced,  
Can not out wear it strait, but grew at length,  
Into an huge and inextinguible flame.  
What should she do, poor wretch, no hope at all  
Had she of getting her desired love.  
And sooner might she Aetna hill remove,  
Than cancel it out of her settled mind,  
I am a base, and flock-attending drudge,  
And he (quoth she) an high-conceited Knight,  
Thus therefore snared in Vulcan's privy net.  
And could with Mars no ways from thence escape.  
She wept, she cried, she sobbed and all at once,  
And fell at last into these woeful terms:  
Unlucky Flora, poor distressed girl,  
Begotten in some hard and hapless hour,  
Borne when some evil, unlucky Planet ruled,  
what greater spite could Fortune have thee wrought?  
Can gods have framed thy greater miseries?  
Is thy Diana unto Venus turned?  
Thy chastity to lewd and fond desires?  
Hast thou so long been Vesta's vowed Nun,  
And now to Venus dost begin to turn?  
Art thou in love, fond fool, whom dost thou love?  
A straggling Knight, some faithless runaway,  
What canst thou tell? perhaps he hath deceived  
A number of such wanton girls as thou?  
Ah but he's fair. What then? Doth not the Moth  
Sooner corrupt a fine than naughty cloth?  
Hath not the fairest fruit the sourest taste,  
And sweetest face oft times the foulest heart?  
Was not Aeneas fair? yet in the end  
Who was more false, who proved more treacherous  
What then fond wench? wilt thou forewarn all men  
To shun the sea, because it drowned one?  
Wilt thou condemn all men of perjury,  
Because Aeneas falsified his faith?  
O no, it cannot be that he is false,  
Oh would I had him, were he ne'er so false,  
This said, she looked up and in the East  
Beheld the shepherds star began to shine,  
Forthwith she rose, and run unto her flock,  
Shut them in fold, and so retired home.  
I having now provided for mine art,  
All needful things, sheep, hook, and cottages,  
A dog, a bottle, and a leather scrip,  
By practice learned how to feed my flock,  
No sooner had bright Titan lift his head  
From Tethis lap, where quietly he slept,  
But through a lettuce Flora viewing light,  
Which came from Ecus, as she lay in bed,  
Risen up, and ran unto her greedy flock,  
And let them lose, which bleated for their meat,  
Now sat she down, now followed she her heard,  
But over-lookt them with a watchful eye.  
Not long had Flora been in pleasant fields,  
But I came also not so much to feed  
My bleating cattle, as to feed myself,  
I put them forth but drive them ever near,  
And nearer to the place where Flora's fed,  
Then leaving them alone, I bended steps  
Towards her, she watchful fate upon an hill,  
I feigned as though I would have passed by,  
And praised her sheep, but so that she might hear,  
As free from scab, fine field, and passing fat,  
She seeing me so fair and neat a swain,  
Come near, did quite forget her former love,  
This is quoth she, some rich and comely heard,  
I'll stay no longer, time will breed content,  
Returning then, I asked her whose they were,  
Where dwelled their owner, and what was his name.  
Art ' thou (quoth she) a feeder in these fields,  
And dost not know who doth possess these sheep?  
The sheep can tell, behold their owner's name  
Imprinted is upon their wollie backs.  
Pardon (quoth I) fair maid, mine ignorance,  
My flock hath not long graed in these bounds,  
But yet much talk of Thirsis have I heard,  
Even on the farther side of these huge downs,  
But what? are ye his daughter whose sweet form  
Is blazed through those sheep-resorted plains,  
Alas (poor girl) how darest thou sit alone,  
Dost thou not fear the lions greedy jaws,  
Dost thou not fear the ramping Bear, or Wolf,  
Or in thy love fearest thou not one that burns,  
Alas poor girl, how darest thou sit alone?  
How can I choose but needs I must, quoth she.  
Fear all these ills, yet must I be content:  
I may not contradict the gods behests,  
Withstand I cannot fatal destiny,  
The gods and destiny will have it thus:  
They have assigned me this poor estate.  
I but (quoth I) what fortune doth withhold  
That Nature mild seems on you to bestow,  
But will you cause that Fortune also smile,  
Then leave this single life▪ and be my love,  
You shall not need to fear fierce winter's frosts,  
You shall not stand in fear of summers heat,  
The lions jaws, the Wolf, nor greedy Bear,  
Nor any beast, shall then make thee afraid,  
Thou shalt be free from all these casualties,  
So saith she, shunning vast Charibd●s gulf,  
I should int' Silla fall, as bad or worse.  
Then children come, then charge of keeping house,  
Then much woes, but little joys arise.  
My mother oft hath told me in a rage,  
That I live like a Lady unto her,  
I (saith she) care for all things which be done,  
I serve the Swine, I give the Pulhens meat:  
I fret, I chide, I never am at rest,  
And thou dost nought but walk the pleasant fields,  
Thy greatest labour is a mere delight.  
I but (quoth I) thy mother tells thee so,  
When she doth chafe and chide with thee, because  
She would have thee be pleased with thine estate,  
But if she might a Queen or Empress be,  
She would not lead a single life again.  
Some other talk, would better please my mind,  
I am not yet disposed, saith she to wed,  
Know that thou art not first I have repelled:  
Cease therefore, yet I can, nor will not wed,  
Then I replied, if thou wilt not me love,  
A simple swain, love me a noble Knight,  
That Knight I am whom lately thou espiedst,  
Range through the plains upon a courser brave,  
Whose shape divine, whose hart-alluring form,  
Hath made such bracks in mine unspotted heart,  
That hoping to obtain thy wished-for love,  
Setting apart my fame and dignity,  
I am content thou seest to be a swain,  
O would I might be still a Swain, so that  
I might once get thy chief desired love.  
In faith Sir Knight, (saith she) I am not her  
You take me for, have you none to delude  
And mock, save with this mean attire?  
And so easily won with cogging words,  
Or do I weigh your valiant chivalry?  
I care not for your magnanimity:  
I set not by your noble feats in arms:  
'tis not your Knighthood, not your high exploits,  
Your honour, birth, nor skie-surmounting fame,  
That can make Flora yield to lewd desire:  
Although the gods have made us poor and base,  
They have not also made us lewd and light,  
I daily see and by experience find,  
That they which climb the highest, have greatest falls:  
You see that shrubs, and little bushes stand,  
When stately oaks, with winds are overthrown,  
The little cottage stands, when turrets high  
Are subject to the force of every blast.  
We Swains can sit and play on oaten pipes,  
When mighty men are vexed with high afyayres,  
We think that we be rich enough, if we  
Can but expel a bare and needy life.  
We think our clothes are fine enough, if they  
Will cover us, and drive away the cold.  
Then cease, sir Knight, leave off your feigned suit,  
The law of nature seems it to resist.  
Two things contrary never can agree,  
My birth is mean, yours noble, I am poor,  
You rich, alas what kind of match is this?  
Here at she stayed, and I replied thus.  
No Flora, no, 'tis not your mean estate,  
Nor ofpring vile which can detract my love,  
Love is a god, regarding no estate:  
It striketh where, and when, and whom it list,  
It maketh rich and poor have all one mind,  
It maketh prince and people all alike.  
It maketh swains and high-conceited Knights,  
To bear one heart, one mind, and both content,  
Then Flora come, thou shalt be my true-love,  
Cassander's only comfort and delight,  
In steed of sweet and redolent perfumes,  
Thy dulcet breath shall recreate my heart,  
Thine eyes shall be mine only looking glass:  
Thy cheeks shall be my chiefest library:  
In steed of sacrifice, upon thy lips  
I'll offer up a thousand kisses sweet.  
Which I will of more price and value deem,  
Than twenty thousand Indies can afford.  
Come Flora, come, if we two lovers true,  
Into the shady fields together walk,  
Sweet Philomela an hundred sundry notes,  
Shall for our welcomes sound in leavie-woods,  
If on the banks or Poplar-bearing brims,  
Of Crystal Humber we do please to walk,  
Great Dolphins shall above the water rise,  
And for our solace seem to make great sport,  
The Mermaid's shall look out from silver lakes,  
And greet us with an hundred merry songs,  
The Naydes, Nymphs, Nereids and Fauns,  
The Satyrs, Fairies, and each rural power,  
Abandoning their fragrant fields and springs,  
About our lodging shall resort and sing.  
Then think not Flora that thy mean estate,  
Nor base degree shall alter this my love,  
Thou seest I have my honour set apart,  
And am content to be as thou, an heard,  
My concubine I mean thee not to make,  
Nor paramour, while beauty doth endure.  
But take mine hand, mine heart, and faith also,  
Ye Gods bear witness, thou shalt be my spouse  
And loyal wife, till cruel Atrapos  
Dissolve the fatal third of this my life.  
No longer could she now withstand the brunts,  
And hard assaults of Cupid's fiery darts:  
But casting arms about my tender neck,  
Arms whiter than the new-distilled milk,  
Sent forth these glad & hart-reviuing words  
What more than Delian music do I hear,  
Which over-cloyes my soul with sweet content:  
Can gods have better pleased Flora's mind?  
Can Fortune have bestowed a greater gift?  
No my Cassander, no my sweetest sweet.  
Had all the gold which Indie rich affords,  
Had all the gems which Tagus rich doth yield,  
Been proffered me, might I have been espoused  
Unto the greatest Monarch under heaven  
Yet would not I have judged them half so much  
In value, as the least and smallest part  
Of this thy kindness proffered unto me:  
Now therefore sith the gods & fate have been  
So beneficial, as to grant the thing  
I chief wished, take here mine, hand & heart,  
Take here my faith Cassander, that I will  
Whilst life doth last, whilst breath in me remains,  
More faithful be and constant unto thee,  
Than was Ulysses spouse unto her love.  
These words she spoke and sealed them with a kiss,  
A kiss more rich in price than all the gems,  
Which Tethis hangs about Apollo's neck,  
Who then had felt but half the sugared joys  
And sweet contentments of us Lovers twain,  
Would have supposed no joy, no bliss in heaven,  
No sportnor solace like to that had been.  
But Phoebus now displayed his fiery beams:  
And fields on each side were replete with herds:  
My Flora fearing lest it should be told  
Her father, that she did'a stranger love,  
Wild me departed, and go unto my flock,  
I went from thence with speed, but not so far,  
But that each might all day the other see:  
Good Lord how many day lie did I see,  
Sue to my sweetheart to obtain her love,  
There came Alexis beautiful in shape,  
Amintas came, and clownish Corydon,  
Rich Meliboeus made not smallest suit,  
All these with many more she did repel,  
Repelde Alexis shed forth woeful tears:  
Poor Coridon brought gifts, she wieghed not gifts,  
Rich Meleboeus judged her made of flint:  
Amintas died, despairing in his love:  
And to be brief, none came but she repelled.  
No sooner had the Chamberlain of night  
Put out the lamp, and drawn the cloudy vale,  
No sooner did Aurora teen the torch,  
And open the vale which Vesper lately shut:  
But secretly unto her I repaired:  
When both our herds where either bare in field,  
Or new let out, but although secretly,  
Yet at the length, for what man did not note  
Her gests and deeds, it came to Thirsis ●are:  
He like a Giant, all incensed with wrath,  
Did call his Daughter, trembling at his looks,  
What maid (quoth he) what news be these I hear,  
Are you in love with yonder newcome Swain?  
Have you repelled so many honest men,  
And now will have some unknown cogging slave,  
A stranger mere, who whilst your beauty lasts,  
Will make of you, and then he will be gone.  
And mock some other as he hath done you.  
Well, I'll prevent these evils, I'll cut you short,  
I'll keep my flock, and you shall stay at home.  
Dayes-messenger began now to appear,  
I rose betimes and waited for my love.  
But lo, in steed of her, old Thirsis came,  
Ay me, how loathsome was this aged churl  
Unto my sight, when I espied him come:  
He walked up and down, and in a rage  
Looked towards me, as though I had angered him.  
Six days passed on, and still in steed of her  
None came to field, but that old hateful Carl:  
What Styx? What Phlegeton? what greater sting  
Can have possessed Cassander's restless thoughts,  
A mighty mass of dolours vexed mine heart,  
A thousand sundry cares oppressed my mind,  
Sometimes I thought her father had her urged  
To break her vow and take another love:  
Considering of what force a father's rage,  
And threatenings was unto a silly child:  
Sometimes again I thought upon the vows  
Her given faith and loyalty, who said.  
When Atlas shrinks under his massy load,  
I will be false to thee, and not before.  
Thus hoping and despairing both at once,  
A shift I found to put me out of doubt.  
I laid aside my country Swains attire,  
And base weeds upon me I did put,  
With iags and rags myself I did abase,  
A filthy cloth about my head I knit,  
One leg I bolstered out with dyrtie clothes:  
As though it had been swollen with festered sores,  
A crouch in hand and wallet at my back,  
So cripple-like I went to Thirsis door,  
There first I prayed, and made mine orison:  
As beggars use before they crave their alms,  
Then craved their good will and benenolence,  
In doleful wise and lamentable sort,  
My Flora, who was always ready priest,  
To aid the poor, whom Fortune frowned upon:  
To th' ambrie ran, and cut a slunch of bread  
And cheese, she thought a charitable deed.  
Here (saith she) pray that I may have my wish,  
Then looked I up, she forthwith fetch a sigh,  
And knew I was Cassander her true love.  
Help my Cassander, help me now she said.  
Or Coridon must me enjoy, thy love:  
My father said, I shall to morrow wed,  
Love or love not, for time will breed content.  
Nay, we'll prevent him if thou wilt (quoth I)  
In careless bed when parents lie at night,  
Unlock the doors, and secretly come out,  
I'll be prepared, I'll carry thee away,  
So we'll escape and remedy these evils,  
This said, she beckoned with her hand, as though  
That I had said did please her very well,  
Then went from me, and ran into the house:  
And time it was, her mother came apace,  
Then praying for my master and my Dame,  
I went away, still leaning on my crutch,  
But when I came int' fields out of their sights,  
My crutth, my weeds, and scrip I threw away,  
Than who had seen me would not have supposed,  
I had been he which halted so ere while,  
Unto the port I went, two ships there found,  
All furnished and ready to launch out,  
With Palin●r●● there did I agree.  
To ship us twain at dead time of the night,  
Then hoisting sails without abode or stay,  
To carry us into my country Greece:  
For thither did the shipmen bend their sails:  
Then back again without delay I went,  
Prepared an horse, and all things very fit,  
Now Phoebus did unyoke his fiery horse,  
Now Cynthia girded her black night ruling steeds,  
Old Thirsis came from feeding of his flocks,  
And seeing Flora, thus he spoke to her.  
Come M●n●on (quoth he) see you be prepared,  
You must to morrow go unto the Church,  
And marry Corydon: I'll have it so.  
Thus shall it be, therefore make no excuse.  
I will (saith she) sweet father sith you bid,  
If you command, why should I not obey.  
Hereat old Thirsis wondrous glad in mind,  
Sent Corydon these heart reviving news.  
He came, and gave her many a clownish smack,  
Sent for good ale, and joyfully they drank.  
But now the Pleyades 'gan to shine on high,  
And weary limbs expected mortal rest.  
Glad Corydon took leave, and went away,  
And Thirsis joyful, laid him down in bed,  
Half part of drowsy night was fully spent,  
Nought walked abroad but shades and grisly Ghosts,  
Each thing was silent, all the field was hushed,  
No birds in shades, no echoes rang in woods.  
Old Thirsis now 'gan snort and soundly sleep,  
And crazy Mepsa lying by his side,  
But Flora mindful of her promise made,  
Lay wakeful still, abandoning all sleep:  
And hearing them so soundly snorting both,  
Risen up, oped doors, and privily crept out.  
I caught her up, and mounting on a horse,  
made no delay but hasted to the shore.  
But see what happed, scarce were we on his back,  
But suddenly our palfrey neighed out,  
Unhappy neighing Thirsis might it call.  
Who wakening at the snril and sudden noise,  
Called Flora, thinking robbers had been there,  
Up Flora, (quoth he look about the house,  
Bar fast the doors, false knaves are near at hand.  
But Flora was now far enough from him,  
He rising up, ran forthwith to her bed.  
And missing her, straightway he cried out,  
Alas poor wretch, how shall I live henceforth,  
The traitor hath my Flora stolen away,  
O ghastful night, waste dungeon of sin,  
Concealing Chaos, hider of all vice,  
Nurse of ill acts, companion of woes,  
How couldst thou let me sleep in careless bed,  
Whilst my sweet daughter, staff of mine old age,  
joy of my life, prolongresse of my days:  
Is by a villain falsely from me stolen.  
I'll after him, and if I may but once  
The traitor see, then in despite of gods,  
And fortune both, these age-shakt bedrid limbs  
Shall either bring my sweetest child again.  
Or else I vow unto the highest powers,  
I will not stick to spend my dearest blood.  
This said, he took an horse, and desperate,  
Came posting after us unto the port:  
And scarce were we, unhorsed and gone aboard,  
But like a Tiger, when her tender ones  
He sees on seas, thus raged he on land,  
Stay perjured villain, homicide unjust,  
Lust-breathing traitor, give me my sweet child;  
Come Flora, leave him to revenging seas,  
Come my sweet child, 'tis I thy father call,  
Ah cruel Tiger, flinty-hearted slave,  
Canst thou thus murder old unweeldy age,  
I fearing lest these fierce outrageous terms  
Should move the minds of people unto ruth:  
Made no delay, but leaping on the shore:  
Caught in mine arms the swain, an irksome load,  
And carried him perforce into the ship:  
Not moved with these miserable words,  
Ah cruel wretch, incester pitiless,  
What wilt thou do? first take from me my child:  
Then take me from mine old and aged wife,  
What should I do, shall these old age shaked limbs,  
Be tossed on seas, which rather covet rest:  
Shall I now live amongst some barbarous folk,  
And in some vicious country lay my bones,  
O take my daughter, take her and be gone,  
And let me go unto my wife again,  
Ah my sweet Mepsa, who shall hug with thee,  
And what shall now betide my tender flock,  
This done, the shipmen hoist up their sails:  
Plied oars, and quickly launched into deep:  
All hope was gone, now must he needs away,  
Sometimes he railed, sometimes he held his peace,  
Poor Flora sat upon my loving knee:  
And scarcely durst behold her angry Sire:  
The scowling even had thrice with dankish mists,  
Obscured the day, and brought in pitchy night:  
The blushing morn thrice with rose-colloured hue,  
Expelled the night, and brought in day again:  
When cutting through the Caerule salt-sea some,  
With flying pines, and ploughing Tethis waves,  
Envious Fate, prosperities Archfoe,  
Minding to show her fickle deity,  
That in her forehead as she dimples had,  
So she had also wrinkles in her front,  
That as she smiled, so she could also frown,  
Now turned her wheel, and wrought our endless woe  
Securely now between my folded arms,  
Held I my love, the haven of content:  
When suddenly a stormy Orion came,  
Black hellish mists the splendent skies obscured,  
Skies taking now the shape that once they did  
When princely jove did work the great deluge?  
Winds flew abroad burst out from craggy hills:  
And all Eolia than was up in arms,  
Vast surges rose, death-threatning billows raged,  
Our flying pinnace now mounted to and fro,  
Now down to Styx, now up to heaven they went:  
Ay me poor wretch, thus 'gan I then cry out:  
Sin-hating powers, reformers of all vice,  
Abandoners of evil and cruel acts,  
Cease to pursue with weapons of revenge,  
Mine heinous and intolerable fact.  
Alas my rigour to old Thirsis shown,  
And Flora's rape do follow me by seas,  
If nought but death can satisfy my crime,  
Then take away mine undeserved life.  
Spare Flora's life, she hath deserved no death.  
This said, an huge tempestuous blast of wind  
Fraught with a mighty garrison of waves,  
Laid so hard siege against our fortressed pine,  
That cables cracked, and sails in sunder tore.  
Out cried the keepers, now are we undone,  
Yet fully bend unto our endless wrack,  
Fietce Adria remunified his force,  
A roaring cannon he again discharged,  
Which rend our ships against the craggy rocks,  
Then might you see an heart lamenting hap,  
Some hang on boards, some swimming in the deep,  
All labouring to save and keep their lives:  
I held in arms my true and dearest love:  
Thinking with her to end my loathed life:  
When suddenly we were by fate disjoind:  
I thrown by force all headlong in the seas,  
Yet labouring my life still to preserve:  
For who so wretched but desires to live,  
These twinding arms caught hold upon a board,  
Which drew me to this life-preseruing rock,  
And as thou didst, I found this cottage here:  
Which hath been some religious house of Gods,  
Nought was in it, but bare and naked seats,  
And sea-Gods shapes, which thou dost now behold,  
But in this seat this instrument did lie,  
Which was (I think) Apollos Cittern once,  
The storm now ceased, I took it in mine hand,  
Descending where thy Wherrie now doth stand,  
There viewed I the qualified waves,  
And looked if some ship I could espy,  
Preserved from winds, to aid me in distress:  
For here was neither nourishment nor food  
To save my life: thus standing on the rock,  
I with my fingers touched these twinkling strings,  
No ditty fine, but yet a sound it made:  
The sportive fish enchanted with the sound,  
Did come to me, and seemed to leap and play.  
And suffered me to take them in mine hand,  
Admiring at this rare and strange event,  
I thanked the Gods which such relief me sent:  
And sith that Fortune had so cruel been,  
As to bereave me of my sweetest joy: