TRAGICAL Tales translated by TURBERVILE In time of his troubles out of sundry Italians, with the Argument and Lenuoye to each Tale  Nocet empta dolare voluptus 
Imprinted at London by able jeffs, dwelling in the Forestreete without Crepelgate at the sign of the Bell Anno Dom. 1587.   printer's device of Abel Jeffs PRASE THE LORD WITH HARP AND SONG 
A I   

TO THE Worshipful his loving Brother Nicholas Turberuille Esquire.  
ALbeit your many and great courtesies bestowed on me, deserve sundry, and no slender thanks from me: Nevertheless mine insufficiency pleading for mine excuse, and d●sabilitie dealing in my behalf, do hope to receive from you no less good liking for a small req●●all, than he that ye●lds you a triple recompense. Let it suffice that I live no vn●●indfull man of your goodness, nor will be found ungrateful for your gentleness, if ever fortune favour my desires or allow me mean to make level with your good deserts. Till when, I present you this little book, as well the undoubted badge of my good remembrace, as the greatest par● of my slender substance. Following herein seabeaten soldiers, and miserable mariners, who in ancient age aster their happy arivals, accustomed to hang up in the temple before their sacred Gods, their broken oars, & ragged sails, with such like reliks, the assured monuments of their lametable fortunes and perfect pledges of late escaped dangers. Which commendable custom of those thankful Ethnics I both allow for good, and follow at this instant as fully appertaining to my present ●late, in dedicating to you these few Poetical parers, and pensine Pamphlets, the rusul records of my former travel, in the sorrowful sea of my late misa duentures: which having the more speedily by your careful and brotherly endeavour, overpassed & escaped could not but offer you this treatise in am of a more large liberality, & in steed of a greater gift, presuming of good acceptance at your hands, who have always been my most assured shield, and strongest slay in all my life. Wherefore take these (I pray you) in no worse part than mean them, and at leisure for your pleasure peruse them, excusing my lack of learning, and brooking my want of cunning, both which defaults and imperfections, might have been sufficient to have stayed my hasty hand: but that I ever chose rather to be reputed of strangers unskilful, than to be condemned of my best friends for ungrateful: for the one proceeds for lack of industry, but that other grows for want of humanity. I leave to trouble you further, recomending you to the Tragical 〈…〉 delight you, I pray you peruse 〈…〉 aught offend you, eftsoon refuse it: if any history deserve reading▪ of courtesy respect it: if any seem unworthy, do boldly reject it. I favour not the best so well, as I will wish● your trouble in surneying the evil whose endeavour was only to this end, to do you pleasure and service, for your ancient goodness towards me, that am your bounden brother, and wholly to rea● yours during life.  
George turbervile   

〈…〉 friend 〈◊〉 Baynes.  

M● word 〈◊〉 wish, my det, and thy desire,  
〈…〉 book (my Baynes) lo here I send  
To the at 〈◊〉 as friendship doth require,  
〈…〉 wills it rather left unpenned,  
〈…〉 the same the Author should not shend:  
〈◊〉 blush who lust, so thou do like the works,  
〈…〉 shall no longer lurk.   

●●r●se each page as leisure gives thee leave,  
〈…〉 each verse thus ragged as they lie,  
Let nothing slip whereby I may receive  
〈…〉 all check of curio as reader's eye:  
〈…〉 ●ll I know how haut thy muse doth fly:  
●herefore I yield this foul misshapen Bear,  
〈◊〉 thy choice, to tender or to tear.   

Wherein if ●ught unworth the press thou find,  
〈◊〉 or, that seems unto thy taste,  
〈…〉 to the troubles of my mind,  
Wh●se late mishap made this be hatched in haste,  
〈…〉 of care best beauties be defaced:  
Lik●●●se be wits and freshest heads to sceke,  
Which way to write, when fortune list to stre●k●.   

Who know●●y cares, who witted my wailful woe,  
(As thou 〈…〉 to the same)  
Or understood how grief did overgrow  
The pleasant plot which I for mirth did frame  
Would bear with this, and quite me clean of blame  
For in my life I never felt such fits,  
As whilst I wrote this work did daunt my wits   

For as the Pilot in the wrathful wave,  
Beset with storms, still beaten too and fro  
With boisterous bellows, knows not how to saume  
His silly bark, but lets the rudder go.  
And yields himself whither tempest list to blow  
So I amid my cares had slender skill,  
To write in verse, but bowed to fortunes will.   

The more thy pain, thy trouble and thy toil,  
That must amend amiss each fault of mine,  
Yet grudge not (Baynes) with share to turn the soil  
In sort as though the same were wholly thine,  
The charge whereof, lo here I do refine  
For want of health, my friend at large to thee,  
Since that my limbs with grief surcharged be.   

Apollo's lore I quite have laid aside,  
And am enforced his Phificke to peruse:  
I hate the Harp, wherein was all my pride,  
I hunt for herbs, I loath Minerva's muse,  
My want of health, makes me my book refuse:  
The blo●ting rage that erst inspired my brain,  
Satu●●●s chilling humour doth restrain.   

Wherefore sith I confess my want of skill,  
And am to seek to better this my book,  
S●● (Baines) thou run unto Parnassus' hill,  
As Helicon, or else that learned brook,  
Which Pegase made, when he the soile-fosooke:  
For well thou know'st, where Clio and the rest,  
Dei ●une their Lutes, and pipe with pleasant breast.   

I can no more, but for thy much pain,  
Yield thousand thanks upon my naked knee,  
And if thou need the like supply again,  
Assure thyself then I will pleasure thee:  
So friends unto each other bounden be.  
(●●y Baynes) Adieu, this little book of mine,  
When thou hast done, may best be termed thine.   
Thy friend, George turbervile.   

Ro. Baynes to the Reader, in the due commendation of the Author.  

WHat weight of grave advice, what reason left unsought,  
What more, of Pallas brain hath taste, than Poet's pens have taught.  
Whose powdered saaes are mixed, with pleasure, and delight:  
Advising this, forewarning that, directing still the right.  
Which vain though Grecians first, & Romans after found:  
Yet now the same in English phrase, doth gorgeously abound.  
A virtue lately won, to this our native foil:  
By such as seek, their country praise, though to their greater toil.  
Among the rest, who hath, employed therein more pain?  
Or who? than Turberuill hath found, in verse a sweeter vain?  
Whose quill, though yet it tread, the path of green delight:  
The same who views, shall find his lines, with learned reason dight.  
And as to elder age, his stayed brain shall grow:  
So falling from, his riper pen, more grave conceits may flow.  
The while, let each man reap, the pleasure that he lends.  
The cost is free, his charge but small, an others wealth that spends.  
The subject here, is such, as differs far from pelf:  
I deem thee wise, thy judgement good, the thing will praise itself.   Qui nihil sperat nihil disperat.  

¶ The Author here declareth the cause why he wrote these Histories, and forewent the translation of the learned Poet Lucan.  

I undertook Dan Lucan's verse,  
and reached his horn in hand,  
To sound out Caesar's bloody broils  
and Pompey's puissant band:  
I meant to paint the haughty hate  
of those two marshal men,  
And had in purpose civil swords  
of rueful Rome to pen:  
Of rueful Rome to pen the plagues  
when Caesar sought to reign,  
And Pompey pitying Country's spoil,  
would do him down again.  
I had begun that hard attempt,  
to turn that ferule soil.  
My bullocks were already yokte.  
and flatly fell to toil.  
Me thought they laboured meetly well,  
Till on a certain night:  
I gazed so long upon my book  
in bed by candle light.  
Till heavy sleep full slily came  
and muffled so mine eye,  
That I was forced with quill in hand  
in slumber down to lie.  
To whom within a while appeared  
Melpomene, the Muse,  
That to entreat of warlike wights,  
and dreadful arms doth use.  
Who me beheld with grave regard,  
and countenance fraught with fear:  
And thus the ghastly Goddess spoke,  
her words in mind I bear.  
And art thou wox so wilful, as  
thou seemest to outward eye?  
Dar'st thou presume with ymped quills  
so proud a pitch to fly?  
Remember how fond Phaeton fared,  
that undertook to guide:  
Apollo's charge, by mean of which  
that wilful wanton died.  
Ear thou do wade so far, revoke  
to mind to bedlam boy,  
That in his forged wings of wax  
reposed too great a joy:  
And soared so near the scorching blaze  
of burning Phoebus' brand,  
As feathers failed, and be fell short  
of what he took in hand.  
In this thy haughty heart thou showst,  
too plain thy pride appears,  
How dared thou deal in field affairs:  
leave off, unyoke thy steers.  
Let lofty Lucan's verse alone,  
a deed of deep devise:  
A stately style, a peerless pen,  
a work of weighty p●●ce.  
More meet for noble Buckhurst brain,  
where Pallas built her bower,  
Of purpose there to lodge herself,  
〈◊〉 and show her princely power.  
His swelling vain would better blaze,  
those Royal Roman peers:  
Than anyone in Brutus' land,  
that lived these many years.  
And yet within that little Isle  
of golden wits is store,  
Great change and choice of learned ymps  
as ever was of yore.  
I none dislike, I fancy some,  
but yet of all the rest.  
Sans envy, let my verdict pass,  
Lord Buckurst is the best.  
We all that Lady Muses are,  
Who be in nuber nine:  
With one accord did bless this babe,  
each said, This imp is mine.  
Each one of us, at time of birth,  
with juno were in place:  
And each upon this tender child,  
bestowed her gist of grace.  
Myself among the more aloud  
him Poets praised skill,  
And to commend his gallant verse.  
I gave him words at will.  
Miner●a ●uid him on her lap,  
and let him many a kiss:  
As who would say when all is done,  
they all shall yield to this:  
This matter were more meet for him,  
and far unfit for thee:  
My sister Clio, with thy kind,  
doth best of all Agree.  
She deals in case of liking love.  
her lute is set but low.  
And thou wert wont in such devise,  
thine humour to bestow,  
1. As when thou toldest the shepherds tale,  
that Mantuan erst had penned:  
2. And turndst those letters into verse,  
that loving Dames did send  
Unto their liugring mates that fought  
at sack and siege of Troy:  
3 And as thou didst in the writing of  
thy songs of sugared joy.  
4 Mancynus virtues fitterore,  
for thee to take in hand,  
Than glitering glaives, and weak full wars,  
that all on slaughter stand  
The Giants proud, aspiring pomp  
when they so fond strove,  
And hopde with help of heaped hills  
to conquer mighty jove.  
Is not for every wit to wield,  
the weight too heavy wear.  
For every Poet that hath wrote  
in ancient age to bear:  
Unless that Lucan Virgil, or  
the great renowned Greeke  
Would undertake, those boisterous broils,  
the rest are all to seek,  
Each slender ship that hears a sail,  
and flits in quiet flood:  
Is not to brook the byllowe, when  
the rooring teas be wood.  
Alcides slippers are too wide  
for every wretch to wear  
Not every child can Atlas' charge,  
upon his shoulders bear.  
Not every dick that dares to draw  
a sword, is Hector's paere,  
Not every woodman that doth shoot  
hath skill to choose his Deer  
No beast can match the lions might  
his force is over fell:  
Though every little star do shine,  
yet doth the Sun excel.  
Not every briar, or tender twig,  
is equal to the Pine,  
Nor every Prelate that can preach,  
is thought a deep divine.  
Not every fish that flits amid  
the flood with feeble fin,  
Is fellow to the Delphine swift,  
when he doth once begin.  
The peevish puttock may not press  
in place where Eagles are:  
For why their kingly might exceeds,  
their puissance passeth far.  
All which I speak to let thee wite,  
that though thou have some skill,  
Yet hast thou not sufficient stuff  
this Author's loom to fill.  
Too slender is thy feeble twist,  
thy web is all too weak:  
Before thy work be half dispatchte,  
no doubt thy warp will break.  
Wherefore renounce thy rash device,  
thy yielding force I know:  
And none so well as I can judge,  
the bent of Lucan's bow.  
Think of the toad in Aesop's tale,  
that sought to match the Bull,  
For highness, and did burst at length,  
his bowels were so full,  
So thou, unless how take good heed,  
translating Lucan's war,  
Shalt spoil thy Lute, & stroy thy strings,  
in straining them too far.  
I here advise and eke commounde  
that thou no farther go:  
Say dawn thy Lute obey my will,  
for sure it shall be so.  
With that my orousie slumber fled,  
my senses came again:  
And I that erst was urownde in dreams,  
beheld the God●●e plain,  
Whose frowning phrase & spiteful speech  
bade daunted so my wit,  
As for my life I wist not how.  
to shape an answer fit.  
Each word (me thought) did wound me so,  
each look did lurch my bar●e:  
Each sentence bred my sorroi●es such,  
each line was like a dart.  
But yet at last with manly mind,  
and mouth unfraught of fear,  
Unto this lofty learned Muse,  
these words I uttered there:  
O noble Imp, and daughter dear  
to mighty jove his grace:  
It much relieves my weakened wits  
to see thy heavenly face.  
For which ten thousand thanks I yield  
thee here with bended knee:  
And count myself the blessedst man  
alive, thine eyes to see.  
Thy presence makes me to presume,  
thou hold'st me very dear:  
But (out alas) thy words were such  
as I was loath to hear.  
Controlements came from hanghtie breast,  
for that I undertook  
With English quill to turn the verse  
of learned Lucan's book.  
And shall I (Lady) be unflyk●c  
to take in hand a deed,  
By which unto my ●atiue say●●  
advantage may succéedr●●  
By which the civil sword of Rome  
and mischiefs done thereby,  
May be a myrront unto us,  
the like mishaps to fly?  
I yield my brain too barraint far,  
my verses all too vile,  
My pen too plain, with metre méte  
to furnith Lucan's style:  
Whose deep devise, whose filled phrase,  
and Poets peerless pen,  
Would cloy the cunningest head in court,  
and tire the Iustiest men.  
But yet sith none of greater skill,  
and riper wit would write  
Of Caesar and Pompeius wars,  
a work of rare delight:  
I thought it good as well to pass  
the idle time away,  
As to the world to set to view  
how discord breeds decay:  
To turn this princely Poet's verse,  
that simple men might see  
Of Civil broils and breach at home,  
how great the mischiefs be.  
But sith it stands not with your wills  
who lady Muses are,  
That one so dull as I, should deal  
in case concerning war:  
I am content to ply unto  
your pleasures out of hand,  
It boots me not against the will  
of heavenly states to stand.  
Yet being that my present plight  
is stuff with all annoy,  
And late mishaps have me bereft  
my rhymes of roisting joy:  
Sith churlish fortune clouded hath  
my glee, with mantel black,  
Of foul mischance, whereby my bark  
was like to bide the wrack:  
(Good lady) give me leave to write  
some heavy sounding verse,  
That by the view thereof, my harms  
the reader's heart may pierce.  
With that the Goddess gave a beck,  
and yielded my request,  
And vanished straight without offence,  
and licenste me to rest.  
Then I to reading Boccas fell,  
and sundry other more  
Italian Authors, where I found  
great store of states in woe,  
And sundry sorts of wretched wights:  
some slain by cruel foes,  
And other some that through desire  
and Love their lives did lose:  
Some Tyrant thirsting after blood,  
themselves were foully slain:  
And some did starve in endless woes,  
and pinned with bitter pain.  
Which gave me matter fit to write:  
and hereupon it grew  
That I this Tragical devise,  
have set to open view.  
Accept my pains, allow me thanks,  
if I deserve the same,  
If not, yet let not meaning well  
be paid with check and blame.  
For I am he that build the bower,  
I hew the hardened stone,  
And thou art owner of the house,  
the pain is mine alone.  
I burn the be, I hold the hive,  
the Summer toil is myve:  
And all because when winter comes,  
the honey may be thine.  
I frame the foil, I grain the gold,  
I fashion up the ring,  
And thou the jewel shalt enjoy,  
which I to shape do bring.  
Adieu (good Reader) gaze thy fill,  
if aught thine eyes delight:  
For thee I took the work in hand,  
this book is thine of right.    



The argument to the first History.  

THrough wilful love, and liking overmuch,  
Nastagios state did melt, and without return  
Of like good will: Euphymiu● min●e was ●uel  
She felt no flame, when he, g●od man, did bu●●●  
But made hi● grief her gl●●, 〈◊〉 bitter ●marre  
Might nothing rise or pierce her marble heart.   

By friends advise at last he parted thence,  
Though greatly gree●●ed, removing rack him sore,  
To quit the cause of all his fond expense,  
And purchase case which he had lost before:  
A death (no doubt) it was to put away,  
And yet no life with her in place to stay.   

Behold the hap, as he full pensive stood  
Amid a grove adjoining to his tent,  
Recounting former toys: athwart the wood  
With cruel curs an armed knight there went,  
That had in chase a frotion fresh of hew,  
Whom he by force of sword and mastiffs q.   

And after death this lady lived again  
Up start away she ran before the Knight,  
For thus the Gods allotted had her pain,  
Because she slew by scorn that ●●uing wight:  
In death he was her plague wh● me ●●e in life  
Enforced to slay himself with mutthering knife.   

Nastagio pondering in his restless thought  
As well the requely, as the cause of all.  
Seeing that scorn the lady's penance wrought.  
For dealing erst so hardly with her thrall:  
Bethought him how to make a my srour right  
Both of the maid, and eke the cursed knight.   

His plat was thus: he bid in friendly sort  
Unto his tent, to feast and banquet there  
His ancient love, that made his pain her sport,  
Whose mother came and divers friends I fear,  
Amyds the feast the knight pursued the maid,  
And slew hi● there, as I before have said.   

Which sight amazed the rout, but most of all  
That virgin coy, so careless of the man  
Be gone to quake it touched her to the gall,  
And thereupon her liking first began.  
For after that she wox h●s wife at last,  
Dreading the gods revenge for rigour past.    


IN Italy there is a City, hight  
Ravenna, by report as brave a place  
As may be found, both fresh & fair to sight  
Wherein of yore there was a noble race  
Of gallant wights, great choice of men of fame,  
But one in chief, Nastagio by name.  
The father of this forward imp did die,  
Forespent with years, and load with silver locks,  
Whose laud and fee descended orderly  
Unto the Son, with store of other stocks:  
Few fathers of this aged man's degree,  
In so good case did leave their sons as he.  
This might suffice to make Nastagio rich,  
But, where wealth is, there lightly follows more,  
For he an uncle had, who gave as much  
At time of death, as father left before:  
The wealth of thief two rich renowned wights,  
In little space upon Nastagio lights.  
Not one in all Ravenna might compare  
With him for wealth, or matched him for his muck:  
He lived at full, not tasting any care,  
But took his time, and used his golden luck:  
Not wanting aught that fitted for his state,  
By mean of flowing wealth full warm he sat.  
This youth his wanton prime without a wife,  
Reckless consumed, and lived in single sort,  
Esteeming that to be the blessed life,  
Because he found it stuffed with glee and sport:  
As younkers that at random use to range,  
Refuse to wed, because they love to change.  
Until at length his roving eyes he kest  
Upon a wench, and took so perfect view  
Of Graces that did harbour in her breast,  
As straight to liking of this maid he gre●●  
His fancy fed upon her featured looks,  
In sort as none save her this gallant br●kes.  
Who doubtless was a neat and noble Dame,  
Traversar cleped was her worthir Sire,  
And she herself Euphymia called by name,  
As fresh of hew as men might well desire:  
With her I say, Nastagio fell in love,  
Whose settled choice no reason might remove.  
Her crystal eyes had lurcht his yielding heart,  
And razed his bending hreast by often glance,  
Her glittering locks so queyntly couched by art,  
Had brought this youth to such a loving trance,  
As all his care was how to compass grace,  
From her whom he so dearly did embrace.  
Then as it is the trade of Cupids ●●nghts)  
He fell to feast, where lacked no dainty fare,  
To come be foreign cates that breed delights,  
For no expense this courtly wight would spare.  
He used the tilt on jenate trapped with gold,  
To please his Donnas' eyes with courage bold.  
For if she be a noble Dame in deed,  
She pleasure takes to view a man●●e knight.  
In armour ●lad, bestriding of his steed:  
And doth detest the base and coward wight,  
For that the valiant will defend her fame,  
When carpet squires will hide their heads withshame.  
Thus wasted he the day in Love device,  
And spene the nights with costly musics found,  
In hope at length this virgin to entice  
To salve his ●ore, and care his covert wound:  
Nothing was left in any point undone,  
Whereby the love of Ladies might be won:  
By letters he unfolder all his fits,  
By message eke imparted all his pain,  
His moiumfull lines be●●aid his mazed wits,  
His songs of love declared his passions plaive:  
The rockiest heart alive it would have moved,  
To see how well this noble man had loud,  
Yet cruel she, when he had done and said  
The most he might to move her stony heart,  
To like of him might not at all be weighed,  
For she was struck with Cupid's Leaden dart,  
Whose chilling cold had bound her bowels so,  
As in no wise she could abridge his wo.  
But how much more the lover made his moan,  
Suing for ruth and well deserved grace,  
The more she sat unmoved, like the stone,  
Whom waves do beat, but wag not from his place:  
Either beauty's pride or stately flock did force  
This haughty dame from pity and remorse.  
She rigorously refused, and took disdain,  
So much as once to yield him friendly cheer,  
Who for her sake had bid such bitter pain,  
As any tender heart would bleed to hear:  
And in reward of all his friendship past,  
She gave him leave to spoil himself at last.  
Whereto through deep despair his mind was bend  
In hope thereby to end his wretched woe,  
Because he saw her malice not relent,  
Who for good will became his deadly foe:  
For in such cuse aye death is counted light,  
Where men may not enjoy their sweet delight.  
His wilful hand was armed with naked knife,  
And even at point to give the fatal stroke,  
By short dispatch of loathed lingering life,  
To rid his weary neck of heavy yoke:  
But life was sweet, and he to live, would leave  
The Dame, from whom he might no ruth receive.  
When Fancy saw his raging humour cease,  
And Reason challenge rule, and charge again,  
Whereby his fond affection would decease,  
And he be quit of all his former pain:  
To keep him in, and hold his lover fast,  
She gave him Hope, to come by love at last.  
Thus divers thoughts did sojourn in his breast,  
Sometimes he meant himself with sword to slay,  
another time to leave to love was best:  
Some other while affection bore the sway:  
Was never man below the starry sky,  
So loath to live, and yet so woe to die.  
For why? in life he found himself a thrall,  
Unable aye to compass his delight:  
And yet by death there was no hope at all,  
For than he was assured to lose her quite:  
So neither life nor death might ease his mind,  
That by the Gods was thus to love assigned.  
Whilst thus Nastagio sought his own decay,  
By liquorous lust, his friends and nearest kinn●  
Perceiving how his wealth did waste away,  
And that his body pined and waxed thin:  
Did divers times their friendly counsel give,  
That from Ravenna he abroad should live.  
For change of place perhaps would purchase health  
And absence cause his foolish fancies wear:  
They did not leave to tell him how his wealth  
And all things else consumed, and melted there.  
But scornful he did scoff their good advise,  
And had their gravest words in slender price.  
As lovers wont, who fancy nothing less  
Than speeches tending all to their avail:  
Not much unlike the lame, for whose redress.  
When counsel comes, they lightly turn their tail,  
Loathing to lend an ear to wholesome lore,  
Of such as seek to salve their lingering sore.  
Yet they like friends would never blind or stint,  
To show him means to better his estate:  
Whereby, As often drops do pierce the flint,  
So they at length by many speeches, gare  
His free consent to travel for a space,  
To try what chance would hap by change of place.  
Judge you that love, and can discern aright,  
How great annoy departure bred in mind  
To him that loud a passing proper wight:  
(Though not beloved) & now must leave behind  
The idol that was shrined within his breast  
Whose rife remembrance loud him little rest.  
But yet away for promise sake he would,  
All needful things were ready for the saius,  
Both cates and coin, with plate of beaten gold:  
And for his better comfort, kinsmen came,  
Who joyed to see him part away from thence,  
Where she abode that caus● his lewd expense.  
To fo●●a●n● coast Nastagio now was bend,  
But not resolode what special place to see,  
Either Flounders, France; or Spain, I think he meant  
For that these seats of civil nature be:  
To make it short, he took his horse in peast,  
And so departs the soil he fancied most.  
They had not travailed far, before they came  
Unto a place, that from Ravenna stood  
Three miles or thereabove the village name  
Was Classye, there Nastagio thought it good  
To make abo●de for ease and solace sake,  
Wherefore he pight his tent, and thus bespoke.  
In thank you (friends quoth he) with all my heart,  
I hold myself indebted for your pain,  
Now here you may (if so you list) depart,  
And to Ravenna shape return again:  
For I and mine will respite here a spare,  
I like the seat, and fancy well the place.  
Here do I mean to make assured stay,  
Until the rueful Gods do ease my woe,  
And Capide chase my sorrows clean away,  
I purpose not a foot from hence to go:  
Lo here I pledge my faith to come no more  
Unto the soil where I received my sore.  
Which promise if I hold, you have your wills,  
Who gave advise and counsel to the same:  
There rests no more your pensine friend fulfils  
A bevy charge, to flee so fair a Doine,  
As to my do●●ne, there are not many more,  
To match with her, whose beauty breeds my woe.  
But well, content I am, a● your request  
To live exiled, in manner as you see,  
I will ●o more procure mine own burest,  
By loving her that leat●es to pit me:  
And having thus at full doclard his mind,  
They took their leaves, he paused and stayed bind.  
Thus he all plasure lodge, did banquet more,  
And led his life at greater liberty.  
Than in Ranenna he had done of yore:  
He did exceed for courtly jollity,  
There wanted no delight that youth doth craved,  
Which he for coin or any cost might have.  
And whilom, as his ancient custom was,  
For divers of his friends he used to send,  
In gladsome joys the weary day to pass:  
Whereby no love care might his ease offend:  
Was never wight that lived in greater glee,  
Nor spent his time in braver sort than he.  
When May, with motley robes began his reign,  
(A lusty time for every loving lad)  
Nastagio pondering in his busy brain,  
The slender hire that he received had,  
And foul repulse for all his good desert,  
'Gan walk abroad, and wild his grooms to part.  
Whereby he might the better call to thought,  
The causeless rigour of the cruel Dame:  
Whose small regard his former spoil had wrought  
And turned his torments into pleasant game:  
Along he paced into a gladsome grove,  
Whilst in his head ten thousand fancies strove.  
There stalkte he on, as soft as foot could tread,  
In deep discourse of beauty and disdain,  
Until himself a mile or more he lead.  
Into the Coppyse, not having any train:  
So long he staid, as dinner time drew near,  
Which he forgot, not minding belly cheer.  
Lo see the hap, that him did there betide,  
Within a while he heard a doleful noise,  
Of one that in the grove full shrilly cried,  
Who seemed to be a virgin by her voice:  
The sudden fear so much amazed the man,  
As straight to leave his pleasant thoughers he 'gan,  
Uplifted he his head, and glued about  
To see what woeful wight it was and why  
She so exclamde, and made such sudden shout:  
And as alongst the lawnde he kest his eye,  
A naked Nympbe well shaped in every limb,  
With speedy pace, he saw come towards him,  
Reichelesse she ran through thick & thin amain,  
Bebrusht with briars her bruised body bled.  
The brambles skirmishte had with every deign,  
Untrust her hair hung round about her head:  
And ever as she ran athwart the wood,  
Mercy she cried with open mouth a good.  
Two monstrous mastiffs eke he saw that ran  
Close by her side, two ugly curs they were,  
Who ever as they overtook het, 'gan  
Her haunches wish their greedy teeth to tear:  
To view (alas) it was a woeful sight,  
Such hungry hounds on naked flesh to light.  
He looked a little more ascance, and vewde  
One riding fast, as jenats' legs could go,  
A hideous knight, to seeming swarthy hewed,  
And (as appeared) he was the maidens foe:  
For in his hand a naked sword he had,  
Whose face was grim, and he in black yelad.  
Who galloped on, and glued with fell regard,  
Pronouncing threats and terms of high disdain,  
With cruel tools for murder well prepared:  
And cried so ●onde Nastagio heard it plain,  
That he revenge of her by death would take,  
With other thundering words which though he spoke.  
Thus for an hour space, or thereabout,  
In one self broke Nastagio mazed stood  
Perplexed sore, and greatly in a doubt,  
Beholding how the dogs athwart the wood,  
Did chase the wench, and how the wrathful knight  
With ghastly look pursued this silly wight.  
So long he gazed, that pity grew in fine,  
And swelling ire incensed his manly breast,  
Pricking him on, and making him repine,  
To see a filly deign so sore distress:  
So as unless he rescued her from foes,  
She was assured eftsoon her life to lose.  
But beoclesse 'twas to mean to help the maid,  
Not having we apons fit, nor sword, nor lance,  
But yet, because the case required aid,  
He reached a truncheon from a Pine by chance,  
And therewithal against the armed knight  
And both his curs he made with all his might.  
The horseman when be saw Nastagio dent  
For her supply, whom he would reave of life:  
Exclamde aloud, withstand not mine intent  
Nastagio, stint and breed no further stryse,  
forego thy force, let mastiffs have their will,  
Sith they and I this monster mean to kill.  
He scarcely spoke the word, but by and by  
The egre curs unto her flanks they slew,  
And with her blood that ran abundantly,  
Their monstrous mouths they hastened to imbrewe:  
Withal the knight dismounted from his sléede,  
And in he ran his hungry dogs to feed.  
Nastagio seeing this approached the knight,  
I muse (quoth he) how thou shouldst know my name  
Who never erst, each either saw with sight,  
But this assure thyself, it is a shame,  
A man at arms his honour to distain,  
With conquest of a maid so foully slain.  
Ablouddie fact, a fimple wench to kill  
With cruel sword, whofe force consists in flight,  
A beastly part, such mastiffs maws to fill,  
With guiltless blood, a vill aines nature right.  
Thou dealt with her, as though she were a beast  
In forest bred, not tasting women's breast.  
Assure thyself as much as lieth in me,  
I mean to guard her, maugre all thy might,  
I count her clear without offence to be,  
She is unlike to be a guilty wight:  
I may not brook such wrong in any wise,  
Against my kind and honour sore it lies.  
Whereto the knight to this effect replyder  
Nastagio would thou witted and knewst it well,  
That I to thee am very near allied,  
Both borne and bred where thou & thine do dwell:  
My first descent I took of noble race,  
Thou know'st my stock. Now listen to my case.  
I lived, when thou wert but of tender age,  
A mortal man, and hight sir guy by name,  
My luck was such as fancy made me rage,  
And fall in liking with this stately dame,  
Whom here thou seest, my love was nothing less  
Than that which doth thy yielding heart possess.  
I liked her well, I held her very dear:  
But cruel she, so tygrelyke requites  
My great good will with such a scornful cheer,  
As lack or ruth bereft me my delights:  
Despair so grew within my hapless breast,  
As on a time to compass greater rest,  
This falchion fell, in d●●pe despite I drew,  
To stint my woes which never would aslake,  
And with the same myself I foully flew,  
In hope thereby an end of bale to make:  
Which wicked deed the God's detested so,  
As I was judge to hollow hell to go.  
And there assigned by rightful doom divine,  
For shortening of my life to live in pain,  
Where lingering griefs should make my ghost to pine,  
For life misspent, the fittest hire & gain:  
With Plato thus it was my lot to stay,  
Woe worth the time that I myself did stay.  
But listen on within a little space,  
This haughty dame that hastened on my death,  
For yielding me such slender hire and grace,  
Who thought it none offence to stop my breath,  
Likewise did die, whom mighty jove and just,  
For her desert, among the furies thrust.  
To quit her shame, in hell she had a share,  
With devilish imps, that whilom wanted grace:  
And after that she had remained there,  
And plunged her limbs in frozen pits a space,  
She was advanced up to the earth again,  
And I with her to breed each others pain.  
Lo thus the Gods did will it for to be,  
Whose sentence may at no time be undone.  
That she in post (as thou thyself dost see)  
All bare of robes before these dogs should run,  
And I on horseback after her should go,  
Not as a friend, but like a mortal foe.  
And look how oft I reachte her on the way,  
So oft I should dismember all her corpse,  
With self same sword that did his master slay,  
She giving cause, though I did use the force:  
And butcherlike to rip her down the reins,  
Who for good will, allowed me bitter pains.  
And having cut her carcase quite in twain,  
That I should crush the heart as cold as stene,  
Not sparing to despoil each little vain,  
Each tender cord and string that grew thereon:  
And take those other inward parts, to feed  
My hungry dogs, to serve their present need.  
This heaume doom was by the Gods assigned  
The cruel dame, for wanting dew regard:  
She is assured no greater case to find,  
This torment is for her entrage prepared:  
These curs and I in order as you see,  
Appointed are her daily scourge to be.  
And in this self sane grove where now we go,  
Cache Friday near about this time of day,  
This wicked wench bewails her wretched woe,  
And I with help of curs my part do play.  
The mastiffs they do chase her thwart the wood,  
And I imbrewe my weapon with her blood.  
Each place where she hath wroth my woe ere this,  
And yielded grief in guerdon of good will,  
Unto her plague that place appointed is,  
There must I her with bloody weapon kill:  
And mark how many months I spent in love,  
So many years must she this penance prove.  
Wherefore do let me put the same in ure,  
Which she deserves, and jove did give in charge,  
Let her for former pride such pains endure,  
As she may smart, and I myself discharge:  
An any wise take not her cause in hand.  
In vain it were for man with God to stand.  
Nastagio having heard the tale he cold,  
And weighing well the earnest words he spoke,  
Although he were a venturous wight and bold,  
Yet 'gan his trembling limbs with fear to quake:  
He had not though a hair but stood upright,  
Wherewith he start aback, as one affright.  
And gazed upon the girl in woeful case,  
Marking the rigour that the knight would use  
And practise thereupon the wench in place,  
Who was to bide his force, and might not choose:  
His heart it bled within his breast, to view,  
How though the knight to devilish choler grew.  
For when he had his tedious process done,  
Full like a bed●●● beast in forest bred,  
He 'gan upon the silly wretch to run,  
Who to escape, before the mastiffs fled:  
With naked sword he priest to do the deed,  
And came behind, full cowardlyke to speed.  
Bootless it was for her away to fly:  
The jenate was too good for her of foot,  
And more than that, the tyrant was so nigh,  
As to appeal for pity was no boot:  
Wherefore with faint, forféebled as she was,  
With bowing knee she fell upon the grass.  
The greedy hounds eftsoon began to bite,  
Seizing upon her carcase with their jaws:  
With that comes in the ghastly sweeting knight,  
Who thrust her through, & made no longer pause:  
Straight down she went, with bloody breast to greund  
Unable to sustain so great a wound.  
Then back he put his hand behind his hips,  
And drew a shoulder knife of purpose made,  
Wherewith the beast the brisket bone unrippes,  
As is the bloody butchers comen trade:  
And out he hewed the liucly leaping heart,  
Whereof each waiting mastiff had a part.  
They quickly chopped it up, and made dispatch,  
As carrion curs and ravening whelps do use,  
That every filthy morsel lightly snatch,  
And being nipped with famine, nought refuse:  
As soon as this was done, the virgin rose,  
And was on foot, and to the seaward goes.  
As though there had been no such matter past,  
And by her side the mastiffs raune a main,  
The knight he mounted on his horse in haste,  
Not sparing spurs, and cut he drew again  
The dreadful sword, as he had done of yore:  
Within a while Nastagio saw no more.  
They vanished soon as those that went apace,  
On neither side was slackness to be found,  
The maid she mounted, being had in chase,  
Life made her leap, even as the Hare doth bound:  
The hungry dogs, that hunger starved wear,  
Laid on as fast her fleshy flanks to tear.  
The rusty knight he gave his horse the rain,  
And followed hard, as men for wager run,  
Upon desire to plague the wench again,  
Who erst to him so great a wrong had den:  
Thus famine, fear, and fell revenging mind,  
Made mastiffs, maid, & knight their legs to find.  
Nastagio having seen this pageant played,  
Stood still in part to pity moved withal,  
In part with strangeness of the sight dismayed,  
Began to ponder with himself, and call  
To mind afresh, how that the knight had told,  
Each friday that he might the like behold.  
Which fieted well be thought for his intent.  
It might perhaps turn him in time to good:  
Wherefore he marked the place, and home he went,  
Leaning a sign undoubted where he stood,  
Till time he were dispozde to put in dre,  
That new devise, his quiet to procure.  
Retired unto his tent, his man he sends  
Unto Ravenna, out of hand to will  
His nearest kin, and best beloved friends  
To visit him in proof of their good will:  
Who being bid, came posting straight away,  
To whom Nastagio thus began to say:  
Mine ancient friends, you counselled me of yore  
To shun the shameful love, that whilom I  
Bestowed on her, that me tormented sore,  
And plagued me so as I was like to die:  
You warned me to fly my pleasant foe,  
within whose breast no tender ruth might grow.  
And more than that, you friendly did advise  
That I should part my country, to aucide  
My monstrous charge, that daily did arise  
And mount so ●ie as I was much annoyed,  
Now friends, the wished time is come, for I  
Am ready here unto your best to ply.  
I yield you hearty thanks in humble sort,  
In great good part your bolsome read I take:  
I crave no more, but that you will resore  
Unto my lodge on Friday next, to make  
Good cheer, bring Paul Traversar then along,  
And eke his wife, or else you do me wrong,  
In any wise let not the Matron leave  
That dainty peat her daughter dear behind,  
I mean in friendly manner to receive  
My friends as then: such fare as you shall find,  
Accept in gree, fail not to come, I pray,  
And bring with you these parties at the day.  
So many as were present there in view,  
Both gave him thanks, and promised not to fail,  
Themselves to come, and bid the residue,  
Which they performed, the suit did soon prevail  
With all the guests, save with that rocky maid,  
Who scorned his feast, and gladly would have stayed.  
But yet at length with much ado she went,  
The presence of her parents led her on,  
Who being come unto Nastagios tent,  
With courtly grace he greeted every one,  
Rejoicing there to see so brave a train,  
But her chief, that bred him all his pain.  
Just underneath a very stately Pine,  
That shadowed all the troop in compass round,  
The table stood, where all these states should dine:  
To tell you truth, it was the self same ground,  
Where erst the knight had had the maid in chase:  
The feaster prayed ethe one to take his place.  
And so they did, regarding their estate  
That worthy were the highest room to hold:  
The fourine was fraught, upon the bench there sat  
Euphymia, so as she must needs behold  
From first to last all things that fortuned tho,  
There was no shift, Nastagio meant it so.  
I leave to descant of their daiutie fare,  
(Set bankets-made by Courtiers lack no cates,)  
We may presume the servire there was rare,  
Because the board was virond round with states:  
So much the more because his mistress came,  
Whom he had sound so joy and quaint a dame.  
When second course was served in order rowine,  
Even then the bloody Tragedy began:  
The Sewer set the meat no sooner downe,  
But by and by was heard of every man,  
A yelling noise that Echode in the skies,  
The woefull'st sound that man might well devise.  
Whereat each one that sat at meat did muse,  
Demanding who that wretched wight should be,  
And asaing what should mean that sudden news,  
They heard a voice, but could no creature see:  
They vaunst themselves; & stood me bolt upright,  
Because they would the sooner have the sight.  
Within a while, each one might plainly view  
A naked Nymph with mastiffs by her side,  
And eke an ugly knight that did pursue,  
And posting on a Croyden jenate ride:  
It was not long before they proched near  
The place, where as was held this royal cheer.  
Wherein among the gazing guests she flew,  
Exclaiming there for ruch with open arms:  
with that regrece and tender pity grew  
within their breasts, to rescue her from harms:  
To whom the knight cried, let alone the maid,  
Reciting that which he before had said.  
He showed at large, both who the party was,  
And did unfold the cause of all her woe,  
And why the sentence of the Gods did pass  
In cruel sort upon the mayoens so:  
Which pocesse made them muse and marvel much,  
She as none durst the knight or curs to touch.  
Then he behaved him as he did of yore,  
Slashing the Lady with his falchion fell.  
The dogs received their pittance as before:  
who fed upon the heart, and liked it well:  
As many men and viomen as did view  
This woeful sight, and both the parties knew.  
And eke the houses whence they did descend,  
And witted the cause of all this cursed case,  
But now sir guy for faithful love was shend,  
And how the cruel maiden wanted grace:  
with one consenting mind lamented so,  
As out braced tears in witness of their woe.  
When that the knight had used the matter thus  
In bloody sort, as you have heard it told:  
Amongst themselves the feasters 'gan discuss,  
And diversly debate from young to old,  
From first to last, what lately happened there,  
Touched all with dread, but most that dame did fear  
Whom good Nastagio loved, and tendered much  
Because she thought within her guilty mind,  
That her in chief this tragedy did teuch,  
for foul disdain and being so unkind  
To him who for good will deserved ruth,  
And could achieve but scorn for all his truth.  
Then first of all resorted to her thought,  
what rocky heart and brazen breast she bore  
The courteous Knight, her love that dearly bought,  
And who for her had langstuisht long in care:  
And hereupon as there she sat in place,  
She thought herself the wench that was in chase.  
Full sore she feared her flanks, & thought she saw  
Her friend pursne her on his fretting steed,  
And how he did his wrathful weapon draw  
To take revenge of that her cursed deed:  
And meant beside his hungry hounds to fill  
with flesh of her, for want of due good will,  
So passing was her dread, as then there grew  
A deep desire within her mellow breast,  
Her loving friend in gentle wise to rue:  
Whereby herself might purchase quiet rest,  
And scape the scourge and penance for her pride  
Bestowed on him, who deep in fancy fried.  
When finished was this feast and royal cheer,  
And every guest returned back again  
Unto her home, Euphymia did appear  
Tormented sore, and vexed with monstrous pain,  
T●e sudden fear of what she saw of late,  
Had planted in Love, in place of former hate.  
The silent time that others do bestow  
From heavy cares and troubles of the day  
To quiet sleep did breed this Lady's woe,  
Who might not chase those deep conteites away:  
No wished wink could enter in her eye,  
Unto her pillow fancy sat so nigh.  
When day drew on, and Phoebus with his waives  
Had cleared the pole, and darkness put to slight,  
She felt a fresh supply of pleasant pain,  
And wept the days as she had watched the night:  
Nastagio stack so firmly in her breast,  
As for her life she could not compass rest.  
Wherefore she calls a chamber maid of trust,  
(A witty wench, and one that knew her good)  
And told her that in all the hast she must  
Unto Nastagios tent in Classy wood:  
To let him wit, that if he would vouchsafe  
Her honest love, he might his purpose have,  
For she was fully bend without delay  
To stoop unto his will, if so it were  
His pleasure, then with speed to come away.  
The maid departs, and being entered where  
Nastagio was, she told her mistress mind  
From point to point, as duty did her bind.  
All hail (good sir) quoth she, in lucky hour  
And blessed time I view thy lovely face:  
Mine unexpected coming to thy bower,  
And pressing here thus overbold in place,  
Is by my joyful news to wright thy case,  
Whose noble mind in love hath melted long,  
As to thy pains, so to thy open wrong.  
Sufficeth now thy sad and solemn cheer,  
Discharge those cankered cares that fret thy mind,  
Lay sorrow quite aside, which thou too dear  
Hast bought, by means my Mistress was unkind  
Plucked up thy spirits, henceforth be sure to find,  
As great good liking at my Lady's hand,  
As thou wouldst wish, she means thy friend to stand.  
And for a proof of what I utter now,  
Lo the lines that flatly do unfold  
Her yielding neck, that to thy yoke doth bow,  
With such good will as may not well be talde,  
So fair a friend is worth her weight in gold.  
Thus much by mouth my mistress willed me say,  
Therest (I judge) this paper ●ill bewray.   
The Lady's Letter of pity to her afflictd friend, to whom she had been cruel  

AS thou wilt muse to read,  
so I might blush to write  
These lines of love, who for good will  
have fed thee with despite  
And from the day when thou  
becamst a thrall in love,  
Can never spare one spark of grace  
that was for thy behove:  
Till now, both clean against  
mine honour and mine use,  
A Lady, and a maiden both,  
I send thee terms of truce.  
But listen well unto  
the tale that I shall tell.  
Ere rashly thou my kindness deem,  
and think I use thee well.  
For Lion's seldom sew  
unto the silly sheep,  
No porter to their captives crouch,  
whom they in chains do keep  
Few Ladies of estate,  
few Dames of high degree,  
Do bow unto their vassals wills,  
as I do now to thee.  
But know that though I writ  
the words of great good will.  
Yet I regard mine honour aye,  
and keep my countenance still.  
No lust procured my lines,  
my credit to impair:  
No fleshy fit my fancy forced  
to speak Nastagio fair.  
But seeing how in seas  
of sorrow and distress,  
Thy body bathed for love of me:  
I could not do no less,  
But seek to salve thy harms  
by pitying thine annoy,  
Who, to possess my liked limbs,  
bereft thyself if joy.  
I saw how for my sake  
thou wasted hadst thy wealth,  
And planting battery to my fort,  
wert reckless of thy health:  
Devising how to raze  
the bulwark of my breast,  
And scale the walls of my good will,  
whom thou didst fancy best,  
I plainly did perceive  
(as Lovers soon will see,)  
How thou forsookest thy native soil,  
and all for love of me:  
Quite careless of thy coin,  
thy friends and yearly rents,  
Not forcing stately builded bowers,  
nor gallant garish rents:  
Which when I flatly found,  
from fancy to proceed,  
(Although thou thoughtst me overproud)  
I pitied thee in deed.  
Yea jove shall be my judge,  
when thou beganst to sew,  
And in Ravenna wert enraged,  
and first to liking grew:  
Thy courtly grace was such,  
so comely was thy corpse,  
And all thy parts so pleased mine eyes,  
as I had had remorse,  
And bended to thy bow,  
save that I dreaded guiles:  
My fearful youth hid me beware,  
of men's mistrustful wiles.  
Who feign to fry in love,  
and melt with fancies flames:  
When their devise is only how  
by craft● to compass dames.  
I read in ancient books,  
how jason played the jew,  
And to the Queen that saved his life,  
in fine was found untrue:  
Not forcing her a fig,  
who for his sake forewent  
Both aged sire, and tender babes,  
and crown by due descent.  
Again I called to mind  
how false Aeneas fled,  
And left the courteous Carthage dame  
fast sleeping in her bed:  
Whose bounty erst had bound  
by det and due desert,  
When weatherbeaten he arrvide,  
this traitorous Trojans heart.  
Then Theseus came to thought,  
and pranking Paris eke:  
Who like unfaithful fickle men,  
their sworn vows did break.  
Fair Oenon's woeful writ  
can witness of the tone:  
Tother from Ariadna fled  
and left her post alone.  
With sundry suitors more,  
who being bound to love,  
Sans quarrel good, or matter why,  
their likings did remove:  
Renouncing to their shames,  
those Ladies, who did rue  
Their base estates, and did relieve  
the men they never knew.  
These parts procured my pause,  
And wild me to beware,  
Lest I by giving rash consent  
to love, were trapped in snare.  
My love was like to thine,  
I fried with equal fire:  
But nature helps us to conceal  
the sparks of our desire.  
Kind aids us to convey  
our fits in finer wise:  
For honour's sake, than men, who show  
their fancies by their eyes,  
Which if we Ladies did,  
Defame would ring her bell,  
And blaze out arms in colours base  
although we meant but well.  
You men like Merchants are  
that set their wares to show,  
Whereby to lure the lookers eyes  
that by your windows go,  
And sundry times in stead  
of right and costly clothes,  
You utter trash, and trifling stuff,  
which every chapman loathes.  
But we like goldsmiths deal,  
that forge their plate within:  
Whose hammers ply the Anuil aye,  
and yet no working seen.  
No smoke nor smother flies,  
for any to behold,  
Until the rude unperfit mass  
be brouhht to burnished gold.  
We work, but all within,  
our hammers are not heard:  
We hotly love, but keep it close,  
for fear our match be marred,  
For who esteems the maid,  
or holds the virgin pure:  
That stands a stolen for every guest,  
and stoops to every lure?  
Yea, be she maid or wife,  
if once her looks be light,  
And that in sundry suitors tales  
she place her deep delight:  
Down is her credite cut  
with hatchet of mishap,  
Her hooour hewed in pieces strait,  
by mean of open lap.  
O Gods, what grief were this  
unto a noble mind?  
How would it vex an honest Nymph,  
whose credit clearly shined?  
For offer of good will,  
with meaning not amiss:  
To beat the badge of Helen, or  
of Creside, for a kiss?  
Then ought not we (I pray)  
that noble maidens are,  
So guide our tender steps of state,  
as virtue may prefer,  
And place us in the rank,  
that is for Lady's dew?  
Should we lend light belief to love?  
or every futer rue?  
So might we reap the crop  
of care, and foul defame:  
Where erst we never meant to sow  
the sinful seeds of shame.  
I writ not this of all  
that loving suitors be,  
Or in such sort, as though I thought  
the like deceit in thee,  
As erst in jason was,  
or in the wandering Prince,  
And sundry other Lordings more,  
that have been lovers since.  
One Swallow is no sign  
that Summer time is come,  
No more must all cupido's knights  
be cast because of some,  
Birds are not plumde alike,  
yet all birds in kind:  
So men are men: but yet in some  
more fickle parts we find.  
I count thee no such one  
as lightly will remove:  
Thy lingering suit, my long delays  
confirm thy faith in love.  
Whom sith I find so firm  
and steadfast in desire,  
As neither lowering looks, nor lack  
can make thee once retire,  
Or folter in thy faith,  
which thou hast vowed to me:  
Proceed in love, but hast thee home,  
that I thy face may see.  
Pluck up thy manly mind,  
and spirits forspent with woe:  
Dry up the dew that from thine eyes  
and dreary cheeks do flow:  
Do barb that boisterous beard:  
that overgrowes thy face:  
Either cut, or comb thy filtered locks  
to mend thy manly grace.  
Put on thy golden gyte,  
and former fresh array:  
Bestride thine ancient stately steed  
and quickly come away.  
Back to Ravenna ride,  
even there to purchase joy,  
Where thou ere this (the more my blame)  
hast lived in great annoy.  
forego thy solemn walks,  
bandon Classie wood:  
Leave off to lead thy life in lawns,  
embrace thy townish good.  
Thou art no vowed Monk  
in Cloister close to dwell:  
No Aucker thou enjoinde with Beads,  
to hide in simple Cell.  
But thou a comely knight,  
in field a Martial man:  
And eke in time of peace, a wight  
that rule Ravenna can.  
Wherefore as I enforced  
thy bale and causeless care:  
And was the only the that made  
thee mourn, and languish there:  
So (good Nastagio) now  
let me revoke thee thence:  
That hand that did the harm ere this  
now use in thy defence.  
I shot, I must confess,  
the dart that gave the dint,  
For which, lo here the blesseful balm,  
thy deadly griefs to stint.  
Surcease thy woeful plaints,  
discharge thy dark despair:  
The golden beams of my remorse,  
shall clear thy cloudy air.  
When angry faowning foes  
encounter in the fields,  
With murdering minds, the stronger slays.  
when once the weaker yields.  
Up goes the wrathful sword  
into his sheath again:  
The yielding of the tone, doth cause  
that never a man is slain  
If weakest thus may win  
by stooping to the strong,  
In combat fell for life and death:  
thou dost me double wrong,  
That hold in virgin's hand,  
thy bale and eke thy bliss,  
And am thy Queen, and only joy,  
and frankly offer this:  
If thou my kindness scorn,  
and rather mak'st the choice  
To spill thy gallant prime in plants,  
than with thy friends rejoice.  
Thou seest how I do sue,  
to whom thou for suedst grace.  
Sith I do pity thy distress,  
to hight thy doleful case:  
Dispatch without delay,  
tread torments under foot,  
That mirth within thy mourning mind  
may take the deeper root.  
The banquet lately made,  
where I beheld my cheer,  
And marckte thy mood from point to point,  
in whom did plain appear  
A kind and constant heart,  
not bolstered up with guile:  
Inflame my liver so with love,  
as I was forced to smile.  
And had by outward shows,  
bewrayed thee my good will,  
Save that my mother present was  
who marked my countenance still.  
I saw, when we approached,  
the tent amid the wood:  
How all thy guests rejoiced thee, but  
'twas I that did thee good,  
My presence bred delight,  
with thy blooming breast:  
And to dissemble liking thou,  
didst welcome all the rest.  
I marked at table how.  
thou shlie cast thine eye,  
On me askance, and caruedst too  
my mother by and by:  
As who would say, behold  
the meat I meant to thee,  
I am enforced to give it here  
lest they my fancy see.  
And when I reached the wine,  
and drank my thirst to quell,  
In self same peer how thou would pledge  
I yet remember well.  
I saw, when after meat  
we parted home again,  
How all thy former frolic fit,  
was quickly changed to pain,  
My coming brought thee bliss,  
my parture made thee pine.  
My beatie for the time inflame  
and heat that heart of thine.  
I saw (what wilt thou more)  
my presence was thy life,  
And how mine absence set thy wits  
at cruel war and strife,  
Then sith thine eyes are bend  
to feed upon my face,  
And that the want of my good will  
hath made thee run this race:  
I rue thee now at last,  
I pity thy distress,  
I yield that thou the castle of  
thy comfort now possess.  
I am no Lion's whelp,  
I sucked no Tigers teat,  
In spoil of such as sewde for love,  
delight I never set.  
I never pleasure took,  
in forcing foe to death.  
Much less my tender heart will brook  
to stop Nastagios breath.  
Time gives assurance good  
of thine unfeigned trust:  
Thou bear'st no treason in thy breast,  
thou hast no lechers lust.  
Whom sithence I have tried  
in love so perfect true:  
To quit thy faith, I am thy friend,  
reserving honour due.  
If marriage love thou mean,  
then frank consent I give,  
To yield thee up Diana's bow,  
and love thee whilst I live.  
In junos' joyful yoke,  
to join and draw with thee:  
It likes me well, there rests no more  
but that my friends agree.  
Small suit shall serve the turn,  
for if they do not yield:  
Then I myself enright thee with  
the conquest of the field,  
Myself do keep the key,  
where lies the jewel, which  
Is thy delight, and only joy  
whom thou desirest so much.  
But no mistrust I have,  
thy motions are so good:  
Thy flock, and state, so noble, as  
thou shalt not be withstood.  
Wherefore (O makeless men)  
set all delays aside,  
Thy Lady loves, and is content  
to be thy bounden bride,  
Retire, thou retthlesse wight,  
whose lingering woundeth twain:  
Two noble hearts shall think them blest,  
when thou return again,  
These words I wrote in bed,  
where oft I wished for thee:  
Mine honour bids me pause at that,  
as yet it must not be.  
Farewell, with Nestor's years,  
God send thee happy days:  
Remember, thou that loving minds  
can broke no long delays.  
Alas, for thee I die  
ten thousand times a day:  
My fits be fierce, my grief is great,  
wherefore dispatch away.  
I wish thee Daedals wings,  
or Perseus praunsing steed,  
Or else the Cart that Phaeton ruled,  
but better far to speed.  
In heart I am thy wife,  
if that content thy will,  
Once more adieu, thy lingering long,  
thy faithful friend will spill,   
Thy long beloved in RAVENNA. EUPHYMIA.  
Guerra ei mio stato, dira, e di duol piena.  
Vegghio, penso, ardo, piango.  

Eftsoon replied the knight, with friendly face,  
With gladsome heart, & trembling tongue for joy:  
Fair Nymph (quoth he) thy coming to this place  
Delights me much, and quits my great annoy.  
The thing, whereto thou sayst I shall aspire,  
Is that which long Nastagio did desire,  
Thy message likes my mind exceeding well,  
And sith thy Lady deals so friendly now  
With me her thrall, forget not thou to tell,  
That by the Gods I make a solemn vow,  
Not to abuse her honour or defile  
Her noble name by any wanton wile.  
My purpose is, in good and godly sort,  
To take her to my lawful wedded wife,  
And so unto the Lady make report,  
I swear myself her husband during life:  
Do give my Love this Amathiste from me,  
As pledge that I ere long with her will be:  
And for thy pains, lo here a slender sum,  
But better this, than no reward at all:  
I mean to friend thee more in time to come,  
Farewell (fair sweet) accept my guerdon small:  
The maid had money, thanks, and leave to part,  
Whose answer made her Lady light of heart.  
And thereupon withouten longer stay,  
Unto her friends she broke her whole intent,  
As touching marriage, and withal did pray  
With willing minds that they would give consent,  
unfolding her effection to the man,  
And how in heart that only course she ran.  
The aged parents of this willing wight,  
Perceiving how their daughter's mind was set,  
And knowing eke the fancy of the knight,  
Triumphed for joy, and thought it sin to set  
Such honest love, or hinder marriage band,  
The short is this, they wedded out of hand,  
A marriage day no sooner gone and passed,  
There were not in Ravenna man wife,  
If you had fitted all from first to last,  
In greater glee that wasted all their life:  
She showed he● self not half so hard before,  
But being matched, she loud him ten times more.  
And not alone this one good turn befell  
Nastagio, through this sudden forced fear,  
But divers more that there about did dwell,  
Bepitied those that loving hearts did bear:  
And such as for good will had rigour shown,  
No more for foes, but lovers would be known.    

The lenvoy.  

THrice happy those I deem above the rest,  
That ground good will, and six affection so,  
As in the end it fall out for the best,  
Not broken off by fortune, nor by foe:  
Seeds w●●ely sown will prosper well and grow.  
But where advise and wholesome counsel wants,  
Trees may not prove, they perish in the plants   

Who makes his choice to love in tender age.  
And scorns the skill of such as tune hath taught,  
And headlong runs at riotin his rage,  
Is like the bird in net by fowler caught,  
Bringing himself and all his wealth to nought:  
It cannot be but such as counsel scorn,  
Must needs at length be utterly forlorn.   

The sick that leathes to listen to his cure,  
And seeks no mean his malady to cease,  
To die the death, for lack of help is sure.  
The careless man is full of wretchedness:  
●o raging love brings baleful end, unless  
The patiented ply, and lend a bending ear,  
Unto his friend, that wills to forbear.   

Which seldom when in frantic youth is found,  
In case of love where pleasure strikes the stroke,  
They hate the plaster that should heal the wound,  
And like the beast run willing to the yoke,  
That with his straightness sundry times doth choke.  
The least a●oy that frail desires bestow,  
Is wrack of wealth, if quite the carcase go:   

Yea divers times goods, life, and all decays,  
Through foolish lust, and wanton witless will:  
So many be the dristes and double ways:  
That crafty dames do put in prattise still,  
As some they sot, and other some they kill.  
They little force, how raging lovers rue,  
So they themselves in peace the pageant view:   

Not much unlike the wily witted boy  
That tiles his trap to take the subtle fox,  
Who claps his hands, and makes the greatest joy,  
When he pecceives false Raynard in the stocks,  
And for his labour gives ten thousand mocks:  
So crafty Dames contented are to lute  
Men on to love, but scorn them being sure.   

Their pranking beauties prick them on to pride,  
Their feitured limbs bedecked with natures die:  
Makes them follow rigour for their guide,  
And overlookes their friends with haughty eye,  
Who for their loves are even at point to die:  
Without regard of spoil, or of expense,  
Deeming themselves quite clear of all offence.   

As in this process plain is set to view,  
Wherein a heavy mistress played her part,  
Right well content to let Nastagio rue,  
And for good will to reap disdain and smart,  
That loud her from the bottom of his heart:  
Who though were rich, and noble by descent,  
Yet might not make her marble mind relent,   

By lingering love she made his money mealte,  
As wax doth wear against the slaming fire:  
Through her disdaives outrageously he dealt,  
Vasting his wealth to compass fond desire,  
A great deal more than reason did require:  
She was the cause, for had not fancy been:  
He would more near unto his profit seen.   

But women's beauties blear the clearest eyes,  
Their feeble force makes weak the wisest wits,  
Their limber chains the sturdy Champion ties,  
The gravest sage is thrall to loving fits,  
The rockiest breast with bolt Cupid hits:  
And who so thinks to scape most clear away,  
Is soon caught, and makes the longest stay.   

I could account Cupid for a God,  
When I respect his puissance and his might,  
If in his shafts he were not found so odd,  
But would in case of liking deal aright,  
And force fair deigns their lovers to requite.  
But commonly whentmen in tansy burn.  
Then women's hearts are most unapt to turn.   

When man doth rage, his Lady lies at rest,  
When he laments, she lives at quiet ease,  
She coldly loves, when he doth fancy best,  
And when she powtes, yet he must seek to please,  
And make fair wether in the roughest seas:  
Yea, and perhaps, at last when all is done,  
As far to seek as when he first begun,   

As proves this noble man who having spent  
No slender sums in service of his love,  
And bard himself, by racking of his rent:  
Yet could by no desert good liking move,  
In ruthless breast no pities plants might prove,  
Till fear of harms her late repentance wrought,  
She could to cloth by no devise be brought:   

But when in fine this bloody broil she saw,  
And plainly viewed, amid the open grove  
The Lady's plagues: then was she pinched with awe  
Of like success then little Cupid strove  
Within her bulk, because that she had wove  
The web that wrought Nastagio all his woe:  
And thereupon she let to be his foe.   

Then fell she flat to fancy out of ●ande,  
Than sent she messege to bewray her mind,  
Then did she let Nastagio understand,  
How that she meant no more to be unkind,  
But willing was herself in match to bind:  
Whereby we see that sundry things are done,  
By force of fear, which wit had never won.   

But sure good will of fear that takes his ground,  
But badly proves, a fancy forced in heart  
Full lightly fades, and seldom when is sound,  
With every heat 'tis ready to depart,  
It doth resemble colours made by art.  
The frank consent in love 'tis ever best,  
Whom mere affection breeds in yielding breast.   

Fair Ladies, bear with what I utter here,  
Concerning women, and their deep disgrace,  
I gird the coy, I leave the courteous clear.  
And this I say: Who fawns upon the face  
Of any dame, and reaps a scornful grace:  
Were she as brave as Paris Lady was,  
For loving so he proves himself an Ass.   

Who serves a sot, and bows at every beck,  
Without the guerdon that to love is dew,  
And plays his game at chess to gain a check,  
Deserves the mate that doth the check enfewe,  
Because he scorns his mischief to eschew:  
And she that hath a perfit friend to trust,  
Deserves a plague, if she be found vn●ust.   

You stately Dames, that peacocklyke do pace,  
Through pride abusing such as are your thralls,  
Enforcing them for lack of better grace,  
Unto their bane, which sundry times befalls,  
Not finding lalue to cure their griefful galls:  
Euphymias plagues imprint in he defull mind,  
And look for like, if you be found unkind.   
Ama chitama.  
Minor paena Tantall ne linferno  
Pate, che chi di donna sta all governo.    


The Argument to the second History.  

NIcocrates a cruel tyrant flew  
Sir Fadimus, who had unto his wife  
One Aretafila, of gallants hew,  
And after, (having reft the husband's life)  
Did wed this dame who though were made a queen  
Might not forget the murder she had seen.  
No love devise, no jewels fet from far,  
Can so reclaim this noble Lady's mind,  
But that she would adventure him to mar,  
Who slay her knight, whereat she so repined:  
By poisoned drink she meant to do the deed,  
But that was found, it might not well succeed.  
The tyrant's mother Caluia, tygreleeke,  
Procured her plagues, and torments diversly,  
For that the Queen to slay her son did sock,  
But wisely she did slack this cruelty:  
And made him think her syrup was to prove,  
Where she might fort in him a greater love.  
Which shift allowed, she more in credit grew,  
The king forgave, but she could not forget,  
But once again devised a drift anowe,  
Which as she thought, might lightly have no let  
The king a brother had, a wifull wight,  
Bent all to love, and he Leander hight.  
This Lady bare by Fedimus of yore,  
A daughter fair, whom she by practice sought,  
To couple with Leander evermore,  
Which matched at length with much ado was wrought  
Then all the mother's skill, and daughter's drift,  
Was by this youth, the king from crown to lift.  
By day the Queen the daughter did persuade,  
The wife by night did play her part so well,  
As in a while these two Leander made  
To undertake to rid this tyrant fell:  
No due regard of blood, no care of kind,  
Can stay the fact, this Princox was so blind.  
The king was slain by cruel brother's hand,  
The realm released of such bloody foe,  
Leander then did govern all the land,  
The hope was great that matters well should give:  
But when this youth had once atchiude the state,  
He scorned the Queen, & all her friends forgot.  
Puffed up with princely pride, he wore the crown,  
And lawless lived, so near his brother's trade,  
As needful was to seek to put him down:  
And thereupon the Queen this practice made,  
She hired for coin, a noble man at arms,  
To slay her son, to salve her country's harms.  
This warlike Captain came from Libie land,  
Who took by force this tyrant coward king,  
And gave him up into his mother's hand:  
A Noble dame that compassed twice to bring  
Her realm to rest, and rigour to subdue.  
Lo here the sum, the process doth ensue.    


WIthin Cyrene erst  
there dwelling was a Dame  
Named Aretafila, of birth  
and noble blood she came,  
Elator was her Sire,  
a man of great renown:  
Sir Faedimus her husband hight,  
the chief in all the town  
For noble mind and wealth:  
this Lady was so well  
With beauty dight, as she the rest  
not only did excel  
For feature of her face,  
that was full fair to look,  
But eke for grave Minerva's gifts,  
and cunning in her book:  
Her sacred gifts were great,  
her wisdom was as rare,  
As was her face, for few with her  
in learning might compare.  
What time this Lady lived,  
a tyrant fierce and fell,  
Nicocrates, possessed the land  
where did this matron dwell.  
Who many of the men  
that in the City were,  
Did do to fowl and shameful death,  
he kept them all in sear.  
In colour of the dead,  
who cause he did not trust  
The bearers with his naked sword  
the bodies used to thrust  
Through coffin where they lay,  
to make the matter sure:  
This great outrage of his, the Queine  
no longer could endure,  
But very much misliked  
these Tyrant's tricks, and had  
Compassion of her native soil,  
and would been very glad  
With hazard of her life  
to rid this monster quite,  
For hatred which she hare to him  
that murdered so the knight  
Whom she full dearly loud:  
and albeit the king  
Made very great account of her,  
yet did she mind the thing  
Which she concerude before  
and purposed in her breast,  
And till she had achieved the same,  
could never live at rest.  
And though the Prince his power  
this daily greater grew,  
Had bred the Subjects to despair  
their freedom to review,  
Or ever safe to live  
within their native land,  
Where such a cruel king did hold  
the sceptre in his hand:  
Yet did this noble dame  
conceive a greater trust,  
To find a time to work her feat,  
which either do she must  
And so at freedom set.  
her country men again,  
And venge her loving husband's death,  
or let them all be slain,  
As he, good knight, had been.  
To prick her on the more,  
She called to mind the practice of  
a Theban dame before,  
That wise Faeraea hight:  
for doing of the which,  
The valiant women won renown,  
and was commended much.  
Whom she had great desire  
to follow in this deed:  
But when she saw for lack of aid  
and helping hands at veed,  
(Which the the Theban had,)  
she could not do the leek:  
She meant to do it with a thing  
that was not far to seek.  
Devising by a driuke,  
to rid the Tyrant's life,  
Who siue her busband by deceit  
and forced her to his wife.  
A poison she prepared,  
whereby as I shall tell,  
In present peril of her life  
this venturous Lady fell.  
For still her purpose failed,  
and being in the end  
Discovered, and the matter found,  
which she did then pretend,  
Dissembling could not serve  
to salve the sore again.  
For what good heart she bore the king  
did then appear too plain.  
The Tyrant's mother eke,  
that Madam Caluia hight.  
Not loving Aretafila,  
(a dame of great despite)  
Full fit to breed a babe  
of such a bloody mind,  
(For children commonly are like  
unto the mother's kind)  
Persuaded, that to death  
this Lady should be done,  
As one that did pretend the spoil,  
and slaughter of her son.  
But what the great good will  
to her the Prince did bear,  
And answer bold that she had made  
with usage void of fear,  
Before the mother Queen,  
who there in open place,  
Accused her of her murder meant,  
there standing face to face,  
Did quit her from the death.  
But when the proof was such,  
And evidence so plain appeared,  
so that she mought not much  
Excuse her of the fact,  
but that the poisoned cup,  
Was made by her, and meant unto  
the king to drink it up:  
There Aretafila,  
before the judges face,  
In presence of the Prince her spouse,  
did thus declare the case.  
My Sovereign Lord and Love,  
I cannot do no less,  
But, that this cup I did procure,  
before thee now confess.  
Myself the syrup made,  
and meant to give it thee:  
But this I will protest again,  
not knowing it to be,  
A venom rank and vile,  
but verily did think  
By cunning to devise this cup,  
and make a crafty drink  
To cause a man to love:  
for know you this, that I  
Am spited at, of sundry that  
my marriage do envy.  
It grieves a number, that  
you bear me such good will,  
It is a gall to some to see  
that I should have my fill  
Of treasure and attire  
and be a Prince his wife,  
And they themselves to live unknown,  
and lead a private life.  
I know they cannot well  
my haphy state endure,  
But that they will at length devise  
your friendship to allure,  
And cause you cast me off:  
which was the cause that I  
Did brew this drink to keep good wil  
I thought it good to try  
By art to stay a friend,  
whom I by fortune wonnes  
And if so be I did offend,  
you cannot deem it done  
For malice, but good will,  
for hatred, but for zeal:  
Why should I then condemned be  
that never meant to deal  
But as a loving wife:  
And if your pleasure be  
I shall be punished for my fault,  
yet doeaccount of me  
Not as a witch, that would  
bereave you of your life,  
But one that by enchantment thought  
to make your Love your wife,  
And match her in good will  
that doth extremely love:  
And who, to be beloved alike,  
did mean this sleight to prove.  
When thus the Matron had,  
with manly mouth and grace  
Ypleaded for herself, the Prince  
to whom pertained the case,  
Well liking this excuse,  
would not in any wise  
That she, who was his wife, should die:  
but this he did devise,  
That there she should be racked  
till time she would confess  
The truth, and what she meant thereby  
in open place express.  
When torment ready was,  
and rack there set in place,  
Then cankered Caluia, played her part,  
and laid her on a pace,  
Until she weary wox:  
she longed for her blood,  
Which made her earnest in the case,  
and plague the Queen a good.  
But Aretafila,  
as one that forced nought  
Of all the pains she had endured,  
discovered not her thought:  
She nothing would confess,  
but kept it in her mind,  
And hereupon delivered was.  
Nicocrates could find,  
No due desert of death.  
Then grew within his breast  
A great remorse for rigour shown  
to her he loved best,  
Whom he without offence  
had put to cruel pain.  
Wherefore within a space the king  
began to love again:  
And fancy her as fast,  
devising sundry shifts,  
To win her old good will, he gave  
her many goodly gifts.  
She could not want the thing  
the tyrant had in store,  
Who then but Aretafila,  
whom he had racked before?  
And she that was full wise,  
by countenance and by the are,  
Did make as though she did embrace  
and held the tyrant dear:  
But still in store she kept  
within her wrathful mind,  
Remembrance of revenge, till she  
fit time and place might find.  
And in her head she cut  
the pattern of his pain,  
How, if occasion served she mought  
avenge her husband slain.  
By Fedimus she bore  
whilst he yet living was,  
A daughter that for honest life  
and beauty brave did pass.  
And so befell it, that  
the king a brother had,  
Leander named, a wilful youth,  
and eke a wanton lad,  
Much given to the love  
of light alluring dames,  
To whom, as to a biting fish,  
a bait this maiden frames.  
To take him by the ●●ppe,  
by sorcery she wrought,  
And cups that cause a man to love:  
whereby this youth she brought  
Into her subtle net:  
thus was Leander caught  
By love devices, that the Queen  
unto her daughter taught.  
This damsel having won  
Leander to her lure,  
So trained him on, as she at last  
the Princess did procure  
The tyrant to request,  
to yield him his desire,  
As touching marriage of the Maid,  
that set his mind on fire:  
Who when Leander's love  
and purpose understood,  
To Aretafila to break  
the same he thought it good.  
She willing was thereto,  
as one that wrought the wile:  
Nicocrates perceiving that,  
denying it a while,  
Yet granted at the length:  
not willing to be seen  
An enemy unto the maid,  
the daughter of the Queen,  
When all good wills were got,  
the marriage day drew near,  
Until Leander wedded was,  
he thought it twenty year.  
To make the matter thord,  
I leave for you to scan,  
Both of the maidens rich attire,  
and jewels of the man.  
I leave the music out,  
I let the banquet go:  
I speak not of the noble men  
that were at wedding tho.  
I writ not of the wine,  
nor of the dainty cates,  
Assure yourselves there wanted nought  
that fitted royal states.  
When wedding day was done,  
the wife to chamber went,  
And after her Leander came:  
where they in pleasure spent  
The night, as custom is,  
and married folks do use:  
And self same pleasure night by night  
from that day forth ensues.  
The lately wedded wise  
behaved herself so well,  
That still Leander téns times more  
to doting fancy fell.  
Which when she vnderst●de,  
a wench of wily wit,  
To set her purpose then abroach,  
she thought it passing fit,  
A filed tale she framed,  
and thus begun to speak:  
Mine own (quoth she) the great good well  
I bear you, makes me break  
My mind and meaning now:  
The cark and care I have,  
Is causer that I will you from  
your brother's sword to save  
Your life, whilst yet you may:  
you see his monstrous miude,  
And how his hateful tyrant's heart  
is all to blood inclined.  
You know his cruel deeds,  
I shall not need recite  
The sundry men that he hath slain  
upon a mere despite:  
You view the gory ground,  
where yet the bodies lie,  
You see how tyrant like he deals,  
you see with daily eye,  
Such undeserved deaths  
as woe it is to tell:  
In my conceit, if you should seek,  
his spoil, you did but well.  
It were a worthy deed,  
and well deserving praise,  
To murder him, and reave his realm,  
that so his subjects slays.  
To rid your native soil  
of such a monster, may  
Not only gain immortal fame  
that never shall decay:  
But win you such good will,  
in country and in town,  
As by the means thereof, you may  
attain the royal crown,  
Which now your brother wears  
against the people's will,  
Who would (no doubt) elect you prince,  
if you the tyrant kill.  
To quit so good a turn,  
and noble deed withal.  
But if you let him reign a while,  
I fear, at last you shall  
Repent your long delay:  
your state is never sure,  
As long as he, the monster lines,  
he will your bane procure.  
What thraldom like to yours?  
how wretched is your life?  
Have you forgotten how you sued  
to him, to take a wife?  
Fie, shame, Leander, fie,  
I greatly disallow,  
That you who are his brother, should  
unto your brother bow.  
Put case he own the crown,  
is that a cause that you  
May not go marry where you list,  
but must be forced to sue  
So like a boy, for lea●●  
to choose yourself a make?  
Oh that I were a man, I would  
enforce the beast to quake.  
Leander, if you love  
or make account of me,  
Bereave the monster of his life:  
my mother longs to see  
The slaughter of her so,  
that siue my father erst.  
With these her words Leander felt  
his heart so thoroughly pierced,  
As up from bed he flew,  
with mind to murder bend:  
To suck his brother's blood, ere long  
this wilful merchant meant.  
Leander had a friend  
whom he did love as life,  
Called Danicles, to whom he road  
and told him what his wife  
Had willed him take in hand,  
wherein his aid he must  
In whom especially he did  
repose assured trust.  
Leander with his friend,  
when time and place did serve,  
Nicocrates the tyrant slew,  
as he did well deserve.  
And having done the deed,  
achieude the kingly Crown,  
He struck the stroke, and ruler was,  
and governed all the town.  
Thus he in office placed,  
puffed up with princely might,  
Not forcing Aretafila,  
his mother law a whit,  
Nor any of her blood,  
once having got the reign,  
Did all the world to understand  
by that his high disdain,  
That he his brother slew  
for rancour and despite:  
Not for desire his Country soil  
from tyrant's hands to quite.  
So loath some all his laws,  
so strange his statutes were,  
Such folly in his roisting rule,  
as made the people fear.  
Their former foe to have  
been raised to life again,  
Who was not many days before  
by this Leander slain.  
When Aretafila  
saw how the game did go,  
And that Leander in his sway  
did use the matter so,  
And proudly ruled the realm,  
esteeming her so light,  
Who hoped by his brother's death  
the country had been quite  
Released of tyrant's rage:  
when she perceiude (I say)  
How haughtily his heart was bend,  
she meant her part to play:  
In ridding of the realm  
of such a cruel king,  
That kept his subjects so in awe,  
and under yoke did wring:  
A fresh report was blown  
of one Anabus, bred  
In Libie land, a Martial man  
that all his life had led  
In face of foreign foes:  
with him this wily dame  
Did practise, and such order took,  
as he with army came  
Leander to subdue:  
who being nigh at hand,  
With mighty troop of warlike wights,  
to overcome the laud:  
The Queen, his mother law,  
as one that were dismayed,  
To work her wile, Leander ●al●,  
and thus to him she said:  
Lo here (good son) you see  
how nigh your mighty foe,  
Is come to bid you battle, and  
your Captains are (you know)  
Not to be matched with his:  
behold what men they are:  
Well skilled in feats that touch the field,  
and trained in trade of war.  
Your soldiers are but sheep,  
for battle far unfit:  
Besides their policies are great,  
your Captains have no wit  
To deal in such a case  
that toucheth Prince's state:  
Again, there comes no honour by  
such brawls, and broiling hate:  
Consider with yourself,  
you scarssy have as yet  
Good footing gotten in your reign,  
unstable (son) you sit.  
And like to take a fall:  
whereof if woman's brain  
May give good counsel to the wise,  
I would (I tell you plain,)  
Your foe and you were friends:  
I would allow it well,  
If you with Captain Anabus  
to truce and concord fell.  
I do presume on this,  
and dare to undertake,  
That you shall safely come to talk,  
by means that I will make  
With him that is your foe:  
the words his mother spoke,  
Leander liked very well  
and in good part did take.  
Desirous of a parley.  
but ere the pointed day  
Of talk betwixt the Captains came,  
she sent a Post away,  
A messenger of trust,  
Anabus to entreat,  
That when Leander Issued out,  
than he should work his feat,  
And either slay him there,  
by force in open field,  
Or unto her, the cruel king  
in chains a captive peeled:  
In recompense whereof  
She made a large behest,  
Of gold that she would franklike give:  
whereto this greedy gest,  
The Lybian man of war,  
full gladly lent his care.  
Leander (as the nature is  
of Tyrants) stood in fear,  
Deferring day of parley,  
unwilling forth to go,  
But Lady Aretafila  
still lay upon him so,  
As very shame at last  
did further this intent:  
And she, to egg him on the more,  
made promise if he went.  
To set her foot by his,  
and look the foe in face:  
Which moved Leander very much,  
and mended well the case.  
So out at length they pass,  
disarmed he and his,  
As one that meant to treat of truce,  
for so the custom is.  
Anabus seeing this,  
to counter him began,  
And with his power approached near:  
Leander fearful man  
Would gladly made a st●●p,  
and gazed about the place:  
To view his guard that should assist  
and help in needful case.  
But how much more he seemed  
to linger on the way:  
So much the more his mother law,  
by words, that she did say  
As touching his reproach,  
of fearful coward's heart,  
Did prick Leander, onward still,  
not letting him to part.  
At Length the Lady, when  
of force he would have stayed,  
Upon the wretched dastard wight  
his feeble fingers laid:  
And by the aid of men  
whom there she had in place,  
She brought him band both hand & foot,  
before Anabus far.  
And captive gave him up,  
to live in loathsome hold,  
Until the Quée●●, as promise was,  
he paid him all his gold.  
Then he eftsoon retires  
unto the town again,  
Declaring what success she had  
and what a spiteful pain  
She took or ear she could  
that bloody beastly king  
Depose and rid him from the realm,  
and so to bondage bring.  
The people passing glad  
that he was so displaced,  
Did make a common purse, to pay  
the Lybian Duke in haste:  
Who having told the crowns,  
did send Leander back,  
Unto the Queen: and she enclosed  
the monster in a sack,  
And caused him to be cast,  
from off a mountain high,  
Into the Sea, to drown the beast  
that well deserved to die.  
Then Calnya, she was caught,  
and to a pillar tied,  
And there the cruel crooked quean,  
with flaming faggots fried,  
Till all her aged bones,  
to ashes were consumed,  
That oft in youth with Civet sweet  
and Amber were perfumed.  
When all this broil was done,  
the townsmen in a rank,  
Knéeld down to Aretafila,  
and highly did her thank,  
For freedom got again,  
with peril of her life.  
I need not here express the joys  
of maiden, man, and wise.  
For all rejoiced alike,  
●ot one in all the town,  
Nor country, but was glad at heart  
that they had won the crown  
Into their hands again,  
and shaped the Tyrant's scourge,  
Then 'gan they all with one consent  
the aged dame to urge,  
With help of chosen men,  
to govern all the land:  
For vantage of the public weal,  
she took the charge in hand.  
Because we lightly see  
when Peers and Princes fail,  
Then runs the common wealth to wreck,  
as ship without a sail.  
But when she saw the realm  
at good and quiet stay:  
And understood that commons did  
with willing minds obey  
Unto their lawful heads,  
the Senate she bethought,  
To take the government a fresh:  
herself unfit she thought  
To deal in case of state,  
then took they all the charge,  
And did the Lady from the crown,  
and troubles quite discharge.  
Thus having rid the realm  
of two such bloody foes,  
Into a Nunnrie, there to end  
her life this Lady goes.  
Where she devoutly dwelled,  
and to her prayers fell:  
And as she lived in virtue erst,  
so died she very well.    

The lenvoy.  

WHo sits aloft in sacred Prince's seat,  
And wields his realm by love and not by dread  
Whose puissant hand by ●●idnesse doth entreat  
The silly rout that under him is led:  
Shall safely reign, and hold his sceptre sure,  
A courteous king doth lightly long endure.   

But who so reigns in threatening tyrants throne,  
Bathing in blood his haughty hungry chaps,  
And rules by force, is surely overthrown.  
The Gods assign such sovereigns sorry haps.  
It may not lost, that so exceedeth reason,  
The truest hearts, by force are brought to treason.   

A pleasant port doth rule a raging horse,  
When harder brakes do break the mouth too much,  
And makes the colt to s●eare with all his force:  
Rough handed Surgeons make the patiented grudge.  
The Pilot that by skill the sh●p doth guide,  
And not by might, makes vessels brock the tide.   

A lawless pecre by law deserves to die,  
True justice ●ayes the bloody home their hire,  
And blood mispilt for vengeance aye doth cry,  
●●xtalionis doth the like require:  
As in this tale that h●ere my Muse hath told,  
Of brothers two, each man may well behold.   

Can Dyonisius deal with greater force?  
Or searefull Phala●●s with more despite?  
Than did Nycocrates without remorse  
That s●ew his ●●ily subjects lawless ●ight?  
Did not ●●ander deal in monstrous wise,  
Whom brother's blood might not alone suffice?   

Press hither Peers, wh●se heads with crowns are clad  
Who hold the kingly sceptres in your hands:  
Behold the end that bloody tyrants had,  
A ●●rrour make of these to rule your lands:  
With all, see here a Ladies manly mind,  
Whom God to wreak this bloodshed had assigned.   

Mark how the first was blinded all with blood,  
The husband slain, and sundry moc be●●de,  
To wed the wife this monster thought i● good,  
Note how the Gods herein their scourge did hide,  
For who but he would trust a wronged wight,  
Or place her in his naked bed at night?   

Look how I ●ander lewd by wile was won,  
And led by lust to work his brother's woe:  
And ●●●●e than that see how this beast did run  
A wicked race and wox his mother's foe.  
Note how the heavens made level yet at last,  
And plagued by d●ath his bloody dealings past.   
Aut sero,  
Aut citius.    


The argument to the third History.  
GEntile loud one Nicoluccios wise,  
Fair Catiline, a matron grave and wife:  
Whom to corrupt sith he might not devise,  
He parted thence to lead a graver life.  
For she was bend to scorn such masking mates,  
As hoverd still about her husband's gates.  
Within a while this Nicoluccio,  
(His Lady great with child) was forced to ride  
In haste from home, and leave her there as guide:  
Whom sudden grief assaylde by fortune so,  
As Physic, friends, and all that saw the chance,  
Did yield her dead, she lay in such a trance.  
The senseless corpse was to the Church conveide,  
And buried there with many a weeping eye:  
The brute was blown abroad both far & nigh.  
Report once spread, is hardly to be stayed.  
Gentile hearing how the matter went,  
His Lady's loss did bitterly lament.  
At length when tears had well discharged his woe,  
And sorrow slaked, a friend of his and he,  
took horse, & road by night, that none might see  
Whether they meant, or whereabout to go.  
To Church he came, dismounted from his horse,  
He entered in, and up he took the corpse,  
With full intent to dally with the dead,  
Which he in life by suit could never win:  
He cold, he kissed, he handled cheek and chin.  
He left no limb unfelte from heel to ehad:  
So long he staid, at last the infant steered  
Within her womb, whereby some life appeerde.  
By fellows help he bore the body thence,  
Home to his aged mother where she dwelled:  
Who moved to ruth, with her so friendly dealt,  
As to revive her, spared for expense,  
She could not use her own with greater care,  
So choice her cheer, so dainty was her fare.  
When time was come for nature to unfold  
Her coferd ware: this dame was brought a bed,  
And by Gentiles means had happily sped:  
And he forthwith a solemn feast did hold,  
Where, to the husband, both the wife and boy  
S●rrendred were, to his exceeding joy.   


BOlogna is a town  
of Lombardy you know,  
A city very bravely built,  
and much set out to show:  
Where as in ancient days  
a famous knight there dwelde,  
Who for good gifts and lineage both  
all others far excelde:  
A man commended much,  
Gentile was his name.  
This worthy gallant fell in love  
by fortune, with a dame  
That Catilina hight,  
one Nicoluccios wife,  
A passing fair, and featured wench,  
and led an honest life,  
And loud her husband so,  
as she did little way  
The friendship of enamoured youths,  
nor aught that they could say.  
This Gentleman that saw  
the Lady's faithful breast,  
And how he might by no device  
to him her fancy wrest,  
Nor enter in her grace,  
whom he did love so well,  
Nor by good service gain good will,  
to deep despair he fell.  
And hereupon unto  
Modena he retired,  
And bore an office in the town,  
as one there to desyrde.  
It fortuned on a time  
when Nicoluccio road  
From home, as touching his affairs,  
and that his wife abode  
A three miles off the town,  
where he had built a grange,  
To make her merry with her friends,  
and eke the air to change:  
Then being great with child,  
not many weeks to go:  
This Lady had a great mishap,  
as here my pen shall show.  
A grief, I wot not what,  
with such a sudden force  
And monstrous might, befell the dame,  
and conquered sore her corpse  
As in the Lady's limbs  
no spark of life appeared,  
And more than that, an other thing  
there was, that most discheerde  
Her kinsfolks then in place:  
for such as had good sight  
And skill in Physic, deemed her dead,  
and gave her over quite.  
And thereupon her friends  
that wist how matters went  
By her report in time of life,  
and how that she had spent  
Not full so many months  
as give a baby breath,  
And make it up a perfect child:  
when once they saw her death.  
Not making farther search,  
in case as there she lay,  
Unto a Church, not far from thence,  
the carcase did convey,  
And gave it there a grave,  
as Ladies use to lie.  
The body being buried thus,  
a friend of his did high  
Him to Gentile strait,  
to tell him of the news,  
Who though was farthest from her grace,  
yet could none other choose  
But sorrow at her death.  
When greatest grief was past,  
And that he had be thought awhile,  
thus out he broke at last.  
Lo (Lady) lo, (quoth he)  
now art thou dead in grave,  
Now (Madam Catilina) I,  
who during life could have  
Not one good friendly look,  
nor sweet regarding eye,  
Will be so bold to steal a kiss  
as you in coffin lie.  
Now booteth do defence,  
you cannot now resist:  
Wherefore (assure thee) Lady now,  
thou shalt be sweetly kissed.  
How dead soever thou art,  
now will I take delight.  
And ●●uing told his tale, the day  
withdrew, and made it night:  
Then taking order how  
he mought, that none might see,  
Dispatch and go unto the place,  
his trusty freud and he,  
Upon their geldings mount,  
and never made a stay  
Until they came unto the Church,  
where dead the Lady lay:  
Where being lighted off  
their horses, in they go,  
And up they broke the coffin strait,  
and he that loud her so,  
Say by the Lady's side,  
and clapped his face to hers,  
And lent her many a loving kiss,  
and bathed her breast with tears,  
Lamenting very sore.  
But as we daily see,  
The lust of man not long content,  
doth ever long to be,  
Proceeding farther on:  
but most of all the rest,  
The fond desire of such as are  
with raging love possessed.  
So he that had resolved  
no longer there to stay,  
But do his feat, and home again,  
thus to himself 'gan say:  
Oh, sith I now am here  
why should I idle stand?  
Why do not I this breast of thine  
embrace, and feel with hand?  
I never after this,  
shall touch it so again,  
Nor never mind, Gentile thus  
proceeding in his vain,  
Into her bosom thrust  
his hand beneath her pap,  
And staying there a little space,  
did feel a thing by hap  
Within her womb to wag,  
and beat against her breast:  
Whereof at first he wox amazed,  
but after repossessed  
Of wits and sense again  
a further trial he  
Did make, and then he found the corpse,  
not through dead to be,  
Though little were the life,  
yet some he knew for troth,  
To rest within the Lady's limbs:  
wherefore the gallants both,  
From out the coffin took  
this lately buried corpse,  
And up they leapt in all the post.  
and laid her on the horse  
Before the saddle bow,  
and home in haste they ride,  
Both to recover life again,  
and fearing to be spied.  
Thus closely was she brought  
within Bologna walls,  
Unto Gentiles house, where he  
upon his mother calls,  
Requesting her to help,  
the case required haste.  
His mother being grave and wife,  
received the corpse as fast  
As she good matron mought:  
which deed of pity done,  
Both who she was, and what had happed,  
demanded of her son:  
Who told her all the news,  
and how the fortune fell,  
Which when the matron undrstood,  
and witted the matter well:  
To ruth and mercy moved,  
(as is a woman's guise)  
She makes her fire, she heats her hathes  
and so the carcase plies,  
With chase up and down,  
and rubbing every vain:  
As she at last had made the life  
and senses come again:  
Her wandering wits retired,  
that erst had been astray,  
And being thus revived, at length  
thus sighing 'gan she say:  
Alas, where am I now:  
what place is this (quoth she?)  
Gentiles cheerful mother said,  
a place full fit for thee.  
With that she somewhat woxe  
advised, but witted not where  
She was bestead, when that at last  
she saw Gentile there:  
Amazed in her mind,  
requested of the dame  
To tell her of the case, and how  
unto her house she came.  
Gentile thereupon  
the whole discourse begun,  
And did unfold from point to point  
how every thing was done.  
Whereof she woeful wox  
and pensive for a space.  
But yet at length she gave him thanks  
for all his former grace  
And courtesies employed:  
and as he ever bore  
A true and faithful heart to her  
in all her life before,  
And as he was a man  
in whom good nature were:  
So did she crave him that she might  
not be abused there:  
But safely be conveyed  
unto her grange again,  
And to her bushandes' house untouchte  
without dishonours stain.  
To whom Gentile thus  
replied: Well dame (quoth he)  
How great soever the love hath been  
which I have borne to thee,  
Before this present day,  
I do not purpose now,  
Nor after this at any time,  
(since God would this allow  
Me grace to save thy life,  
and raise thee from the pit:  
And love which I have always meant  
to thee hath caused it:)  
I purpose not, I say,  
to deal in other wise,  
Chanif thou were my sister dear,  
this promise shall suffice.  
But this good turn that I  
have done to you this night,  
Doth well deserve, that you the same  
in some respect requite.  
Wherefore I shall desire  
that you with willing breast,  
Will friendly grant me my demand,  
and yield me one request.  
Whereto the humble dame  
agreed, and was content,  
If so she could, and honest were  
the suit Gentile meant.  
Then spoke the courteous knight,  
Well (Madam) this is true,  
That both your parents and your friends  
of Boline, think that you  
Are buried low enough  
in coffin closely laid,  
None tarries you at home as now,  
they all do deem you dead,  
Wherefore my small request  
and simple suit shallbe,  
That with my mother here to stay  
ye will vouchsafe, and me,  
In secret and unseen,  
until such time as I  
May to Modena go and come  
again, I mean to high.  
The cause that makes me crave  
and ask this lingering stay,  
Is, that in presence of the best,  
and chief that bear the sway  
Within the town, I mind  
to give you as a gift,  
And to present you to your spouse,  
this is my only drift.  
The Lady knowing that  
Gentile was her friend,  
And saw that honest was his suit,  
did quickly condescend:  
Though greatly she desired,  
new brought to life again,  
To see and comfort those her friends  
that mourned for her amain:  
She promised on her faith,  
with her to tarry there.  
And yet her tale was thoroughly told,  
her time was come to bear  
The Babe wherewith she went,  
she must to travail strait  
The Matron ever at an inch  
did on this Lady wait:  
And used the matter so,  
as in a day or twain,  
She was delivered of a boy,  
and overcame her pain.  
Whereat Gentile joyed,  
and eke the dame that had  
Such great good hap and passing luck,  
did wax exceeding glad.  
The knight disposed his things,  
and used the matter so,  
As she had been his wedded wife:  
and thereupo did go  
Unto Modena, where  
an office he had borne,  
And there he stayed until such time  
as all his year was worn.  
And self same day that he  
accounted on, to make  
Return unto his mother's house  
at Boline, he bespoke.  
That divers of the states,  
and chiefest men that were  
Within the town, should be his guests.  
there was of purpose there,  
That Nicoluccio, who  
did owe this gentle dame.  
As soon as to his mother's house  
this lusty gallant came,  
The master of the feast  
dismounted, in he hies:  
Where, when among his other guests,  
the Lady he espies,  
And eke her sucking son,  
that hung upon her breast,  
He was the meeriest man alive:  
Then placed he every guest  
In order as their state  
and calling did require,  
There wanted not a dainty dish  
that Courtiers could desire:  
When washing time drew nigh,  
and every man at board  
Had victualled well, and all was whist,  
and no man spoke a word:  
The Lady being taught  
her lesson long ere that,  
And well instructed in the case,  
and knowing what was what,  
Gentile thus begun  
his solemn tale to tell:  
My Lords and guests (quoth he) I like  
the order passing well  
That men of Persie use:  
for when they make a feast,  
In honour of their friends, whom they  
do love and fancy best,  
They bid them to their house,  
and set before their eyes  
The chiefest jewel which they have,  
and good, of greatest price,  
What thing soever it be:  
his wife, with whom he sleeps,  
His dainty daughter, or his wench,  
whom he for pleasure keeps.  
He nothing hides as then,  
or locks from open sight:  
Affirming by this deed of his,  
that likewise (if he might)  
He would unfold the heart  
that lies within his breast,  
Which custom I in Bologne mind  
to practise to my guest.  
You honour this my feast  
with noble presence here,  
And I will play the Persians part:  
look what I hold most dear,  
And chief do esteem,  
or favour in my heart,  
Or ever shall regard or weigh,  
will show you or you part.  
But first I shall request  
or ere I bring it out,  
That you will here decide a case,  
and rid me out of doubt  
Which I myself will move.  
There is a noble man,  
Who hath a servant in his house  
that doth the best be can  
To please his master's mind,  
he doth at nothing stick:  
This trusty painful servant falls  
at length exceeding sick,  
The tetchlesse master, not  
regarding him at all,  
Nor forcing what by such disease  
his sernant may befall,  
Conveys him out of door,  
in open street to lie,  
To sink or swim, to mend or pair  
to live or else to die.  
A Stranger comes by hap,  
and he to mercy moved,  
To see the poor dise asde soul  
so slenderly beloved,  
In danger of his death,  
to lie amids the street:  
A place for such as are in pain.  
too cold and far unmeet:  
Doth be are him to his home,  
and takes such tender care  
Of him, and plies him so with fire  
and comfortable fare,  
As both recovers limbs  
and gets his former strength,  
And sets this feeble servant up  
upon his legs at length:  
Now gladly would I learn  
which of these both doth best  
Deserve to have this servant, who  
was lately so distressed?  
Where he that ought him first  
and gave him off in grief,  
Or he that pitied him in pain  
and holp him to relief?  
And if the master, who  
so cruelly did deal  
In time of sickness, will the man  
that did his servant he ale,  
To yield him up again,  
where he by law and right  
May well withhold the servant, whom  
he holp in wretched plight?  
The gentlemen among  
themselves debated hard,  
But drew in one self string at length  
the matter was refarde  
To Nicoluccio, who  
(because he could full well  
Discern of matters, and his tale  
in skilful order tell)  
Should give the verdict up.  
He highly did commend  
The use of Persia, with the rest  
concluding in the end,  
Which was, that he whom first  
this silly soul did serve,  
Of right could lay no lawful claim:  
full ill he did deserve  
A masters name, that when  
his servant was at worst,  
Would turn him off, and let him lie:  
but he, that when the furst  
Had played this cruel part,  
did courteously entreat  
The sick and outcast, aiding him  
with Physic and with meat,  
He mought by law and right,  
no prejudice at all  
Done to the first, enjoy the man,  
and him his servant call.  
Then all the other guests  
that at the banquet were,  
Affirmde the same that Nicoluccio  
had pronounced there:  
The knight who moved the case,  
as one that was content  
With such an answer, and the more,  
for that with him it went,  
Concluded, that he thought  
as all the other saidé:  
And now (quoth he) I think that I  
sufficiently have stayed.  
Now time it is that I  
perform my promise made,  
In that I meant to honour you,  
as is the Persians trade.  
With that he calls to him  
a couple of his friends,  
Familiar, and of greatest trust,  
whom he in message sends  
Unto the Lady, that  
was clad in brave array,  
Within a chamber, willing her  
that she would come her way,  
To cheer his Royal guests,  
with presence of herself.  
The Lady taking in her arms  
that little puling else,  
That was so lately borne,  
came in, and tother too  
Attending on her, and as erst  
Gentile willed her do,  
She sat her down beside  
a guest, a Noble man,  
And then the Knight that made the feast  
his process thus began.  
Lo, Lordings, here behold  
the thing whereof I spoke,  
This is the jewel, whereof I  
such great account do make,  
And ever do intend,  
of nothing else so much  
I force, as this: now judge yourselves,  
where it be worthy such  
Regard as I bestow:  
mark every member well:  
With that the states, to honour of  
this featured Lady sell,  
And praised her very much,  
affirming to the Knight,  
That sin it were not to esseeme  
so fair and brave a wight.  
The guests begun to gaze,  
and some there were in place,  
That would have sworn, that she had been  
the very same she was,  
Save that they knew that she  
was buried long ago.  
But most of all the other guests,  
that Nicoluccio,  
The husband of the Dame,  
this lovely Lady eyed:  
And when Gentile did by chanuce  
and fortune step aside,  
As one that had desire  
to question with the Dame,  
No longer able to withhold:  
demanded whence she came,  
Where she a stranger were,  
or else in Bologne borne:  
The Lady knowing who it was,  
should she not been forsworn,  
Would to her husband told  
and opened all the case:  
But to discharge her promise made,  
she held her peace, with face  
As modest as she might.  
Some other asked, where  
That little pretty boy was hers  
which she at breast did bear?  
And other did demand,  
where she were aught allied,  
Or were Gentiles daughter dear?  
she not a word replied.  
With that the feaster came,  
your jewel sir (quoth some  
That sat at board) is passing fair.  
but is too seeming dumb.  
What? is she so in deed?  
whereto Gentile said:  
It yields no slender token of  
her virtue that she stayed  
And held her tongue as now.  
Declare (quoth they) to us  
What Dame she is, to which request  
Gentile answearde thus.  
I will with all my heart  
declare the truth (quoth he)  
If you, until the whole discourse  
be told, will promise me,  
Not once to move a foot,  
but every one to keep  
His place: whereto they all agreed,  
and 'gan to swe are by deep  
And very solemn oaths  
to complishe his request.  
The table being taken up,  
the keeper of the feast  
Sat by the Lady's side,  
and thus began to tell:  
This woman, is the servant true,  
that served her master well,  
Of whom I spoke right now,  
when I your judgements craved  
This is the servant ilbeloude,  
that when she had behaved  
Herself in each respect  
as fitted such a one,  
Was shaken off, and turned to grass,  
in streets to make her moan:  
Whom I, to pity moved,  
did secure as I might,  
And by my care and handy help,  
from present death did quite:  
And mighty God, that saw  
the great good heart I bore,  
Restored her from that loathsome corpse  
unto this beauty rare.  
But to the end you may  
more plainly understand  
How these adventures me befell:  
I purpose out of hand  
In short discourse to show  
and open all the case.  
Then 'gan he to unfold his love,  
and how he sued for grace  
Unto this worthy dame,  
whose beauty pierced his breast:  
And passed so, from point to point,  
unripping all the rest,  
Distinctly from the first:  
which made the hearers muse,  
To listen to this long discourse  
of strange and wondrous news.  
And having told the whole  
as I before have pend,  
Both how he loud, and how she died,  
thus closed he up the end.  
Wherefore (my Lords) quoth he,  
unless you have of late  
Ychangd your thoughts & minds anew  
since you at table sat:  
And chiesly you, (and points  
to Nicolnccio) she  
Whom here you view, of right is mine,  
and only due to me.  
No lawful tittle may,  
or rightful claim belayed  
To chelenge her from me again,  
was no man there that said  
A word, but all were still  
to hear those matters passed,  
And for desire to learn the rest,  
and what he meant at last.  
Good Nicaluccio,  
and all the rest beside  
That present were, and eke the dame  
no lunger could abdie,  
But out they burst in tears,  
and wept for pity's sake.  
With that Gentile standing up,  
the little babe did take,  
And bare betwixt his arms,  
and led the Lady eke  
By one hand to her husbandwarde,  
and thus began to speak.  
Stand up (good Gossup mine)  
I do not here restore  
To you your wife, whom both her friends  
and yours refused before,  
And as an outcast scorned:  
but frankly give this dame  
My Gossup, and her little child  
that of her bedie came,  
To thee, for this of troth  
I know, the babe is thine,  
Begot by thee, I christened it,  
it bears this name of mine,  
And is Gentile called:  
and my request shall be,  
That through three months, this Lady hath  
been soiornesse with me,  
Thou wilt no less esteem  
of her, or worse good will  
Bestow on her, than though she had  
with thee continued still.  
And by that self same God  
which foreed me to bear  
Such love, as by that love to save  
her life, to thee I swear,  
That, neither with her friends,  
nor with thy parents, she,  
No, not with thee her spouse, she could  
in greater surety be  
As touching honest life,  
than with my mother dear:  
Assure thyself, she never was  
abused, nor tempted here.  
This process being told,  
Gentile turned him round  
Unto the Lady (dame quoth he)  
you know, I had you bound  
By faith and lawful oath:  
I quit you here of all,  
And set you free aboard again,  
and go again you shall  
To Nicoluccio, and  
with that both wife and brat  
To Nicoluccios hands he gave,  
and down Gentile sat.  
The husband did receive  
his wife with willing hand,  
And eke the babe: and how much more  
he in despair did slande  
Of having her again,  
whom he accounted dead:  
The greater was his joy and mirth  
when he so happily sped.  
In recompense whereof,  
he yielded to the Knight  
Gentile, for his great good turn,  
the greatest thanks he might.  
And all the rest beside,  
that were to pity moved,  
Gentiles nature did commend:  
he dearly was beloved  
Of all that heard the case,  
and feasted there that day.  
Thus will I leave the matron, and  
her son at home to stay.  
These matters ended thus,  
each guest his horse did take,  
And parted from Gentiles house,  
that did the banquet make.  
Home road the man and wife  
unto their grange with speed,  
The cheer which was at her return,  
and welcome, did exceed.  
The people maruailde much,  
that she who buried was,  
Cuuld live again, and ever as  
she through the streets should pass,  
In Bolyne men did gaze,  
and greatly view the dame.  
And from that day Gentile still  
a faithful friend became  
To Nicoluccio, and  
the parents of his wife,  
Whom he by virtue of his love  
had raised from death to life.    

lenvoy.  

Unbridled yonth is pricked to pleasure aye,  
And led by lust to tollow fancy's fits:  
Vnsaufull heads run reckless on their way,  
Like wilful colts that broken have their bats:  
Not looking back, till faltering foot do fail,  
And all consumed that was for their avail.   

Unhappy they, by scathe that purchase skill,  
And learn too late how youth did lead awry:  
Unlucky men for wit that follow will,  
And foul delights in golden prime apply:  
More wisdom were each one to wed a wife,  
Than married deigns to lure to lewder life.   

For though that nature let us run at large,  
And all things made by kind to common use:  
Yet man must lend an ear to civil charge,  
That points a bane for every foul abuse:  
And bids (beware pollute no marriage bed)  
Without offence let single life be lead.   

As honest love by custom is allowed,  
(Both law and reason yielding to the same  
In single wights) so parties being vowed  
To marriage yoke assaulted are with shame:  
Both God and man such sluttish suits detest,  
The lawful love is ever cou●ted best.   

Which makes me blame Gentiles rash assault,  
On Carilina fair, from former vow  
Whom he pursued to tharge with heavy fault,  
And sought to linne to make this matron bow:  
Yet grace at last prevailed in both so well,  
As she stayd chaste, and he to virtue fell.   

His foul dessre his lewd and lustful mind,  
Was cause of life, and wrought a double pleasure:  
This buried dan●e in pit to death had pinned,  
Had he not l●ude, and like her out of measure,  
Thus ●●l sometime is cause of good success,  
And wicked meanings turn to happiness.   

Had some rash yinpe been in Gentiles case,  
So far inflamed with Beaurie of a danie,  
And after that had had so fit a place  
To work his will, and done a deed of shame,  
I doubt me much, he would have reaped the frule,  
By leave of force of all his painful suit.   

Here all were blest; the mother well revived,  
The infant borne, the matron full of ruth:  
Thrice happy he for bring so truly wind,  
Gentile worthy praise for ioyall truth.  
All lovers may hereby example take,  
And learn of him blind fancies to forsake.     


The argument to the fourth History.  

TWo Knights did link in League of great goodwill,  
At length the one corrupts the others wife,  
And traitourlike procured her unto ill,  
Which vile abuse bred deadly hate and strife,  
And was the cause this lecher lost his life.  
For why, the Knight to whom this wrong was wrought  
This traitor slew, when he full little thought.   

The murder done, he gave his Cook the heart  
Of him that had conspired this filthy feat,  
And made him dress it curiously by art,  
And gave his wife the same at night to eat,  
Who fed thereof, and thought it passing meat:  
But when she knew, the heart, the hap, and all,  
She loathed to live, and slew herself by fall   
Quid non cogit amor?   


Whilom in Provence were,  
as they that knew the same  
Do make report, two Courtly knights,  
both men of worthy fame:  
Each knight his Castle had,  
well furnished every way,  
With store of servants at a beck  
their pleasures to obey.  
The tone Rossilion called,  
a bold undaunted knight,  
The second, equal to the first,  
sir Guardastano hight:  
Who being men at arms,  
and passing well approved  
For valiant courage in the field,  
like faithful brothers loud,  
They daily used to ride  
to Turneys both yfere,  
To tilt, to just, and other feats  
performed with sword and spear.  
Their garments eke aagree,  
and were of equal size:  
To show the concord of their minds  
unto the looker's eyes.  
And thus though either knight  
his several manner held,  
And either ten miles at the least  
from others Castle dwelde:  
Yet happeneth it at last  
that Guardastano fell  
In liking with Rossylions' wife,  
and loud her very well.  
A dame of beauty brave,  
renowned very much,  
Whose featured face and goodly grace  
the knight so near did touch:  
As he rejected quite  
the faith he should have borne  
Her husband, and his trusty friend  
that was his brother sworn.  
He used his gestures so  
unto this gallant dame  
At sundry times, that she at length  
his friend in love, became,  
And liked well the knight  
and so began to place  
Her fancy, as she nought so much  
did tender or embrace  
As Guardastanoes love:  
She ever looked when he  
Would frame his humble suit, and crave  
her secret friend to be.  
Which fortuned in a while:  
for he bewrayed his case,  
And she less wise than wanton, straight  
did yield the Lover grace.  
There needed slender force,  
so weak a fort to win,  
For she as willing was to yield,  
as he to enter in,  
And thus for twice or thrice,  
the lusty lovers dealt  
In Venus' sport, whose frying hearts  
with Cupid's coals did melt.  
But in this love of theirs,  
they did not use so well.  
The matter, but the husband did  
the smoke by fortune smell.  
Of that their filthy flame:  
who highly did disdain  
That such outrage and soul abuse  
his honour should distain,  
Whereby his former love  
to mortal hate did grow,  
And then he purposed with himself  
to slay his deadly foe  
That foully so abused  
a Knight that gave him trust.  
Mean while came tidings that in France  
the lists were made  
The Trump proclaimed the tilt  
Rossilion out of hand.  
To Guardastano Castle sent  
to let him understand  
The news: and eke withal  
did will his man to say,  
That if he would the morrow next  
vouchsafe to come away  
Unto his house, they would  
conclude upon the case  
Full friendly Guardastano did  
the messenger embrace  
And told him that he would  
(if God did lend him life)  
The morrow night come over, to  
Rossilyon and his wife,  
Which answer when the knight  
received had he thought  
The tuncapprocht, wherein to slay  
the traitor knight, that wrought  
Such salfehoode to his friend  
I leave you for to scan  
The thousand thoughts, the broken sleeps  
and fancies of the man,  
That such a murder meant;  
and ekes the knights desire  
Who thought it long before he came  
in place to quench his fire  
When morning came the knight  
well armed from foot to crest  
took horse, and had a friend or two  
whom he did fancy best,  
Well mounted on their steads:  
they had not rid a mile,  
Before they came unto a wood,  
a place to work their wile.  
There lay he close in wait  
within the cops, whereas  
Full well he witted that Guardastan  
of very force must pass.  
There having staid awhile,  
a far he might descry  
The Knight unarmed, with other two  
that road unarmed by,  
As one that feared no fraud,  
nor any force at all,  
WHen that Rossilyon did perceive  
him just against the stall  
Where he on horseback sat  
full ready for the chase,  
A valley fit to work his feat:  
with grim and ghastly face  
He sets his spurs to horse  
and put his lance in rest,  
And galloped after, crying loud,  
thou knight and traitorous gest,  
Now be thou sure to die,  
in penance of thy fact:  
And with the word, he struck him through  
the shievered lance it crack  
Against the broken bones,  
and through pierced his corpse.  
Unable Guardastano then  
for to resist the force,  
Or once to speak a word,  
fell down upon the blow,  
And presently gave up the ghost,  
the spear had spoiled him so.  
With that his friends amazed,  
and very much in doubt  
What this should mean, stood still a space,  
at last they turned about  
Their nags, and spared no spurs,  
unto the Castle ward  
Of Guardastano, whence they came,  
fear made them gallop hard.  
When thus Rossilion saw  
his foe bereft of life,  
He left the saddle, and withal  
drew out a shoulder knife,  
And ripped me up the breast  
of him that murdered lay:  
Which done, with egrehands he plucked  
the trembling bear't away,  
Wherein the treason lodged:  
and having there by chance  
Or else of purpose, (skills not which)  
the pendant of his lance,  
He wrapped it up therein,  
and willed his man to look  
Unto the carriage of the same:  
the heart his servant took.  
Then having straightly charged,  
that none should dare to say  
A word of that which they had seem  
and he had done that day:  
He mounted on his horse,  
and in the evening road  
Unto his Castle back again,  
and there the knight abode.  
His wife that heard him say,  
that Guardastano came  
That night to sup with him at home,  
and looked for the same,  
Did wonder at his stay:  
and being one dismayed,  
How happed that Guardistano comes  
not now (good sir) she said.  
To whom the knight replied,  
be sent me word right now  
He could not come to day, good faith  
his let I do allow.  
The Lady woeful wox,  
and lowering 'gan to look,  
Rossilyon lighted from his horse  
sent one to call the Cook:  
Who being come in place,  
take here (quoth he) this heart  
I slew a Boar of late by ha●,  
herein bestow your art.  
Do make some dainty dish,  
according to your skill,  
And serve it up in silver place:  
dispatch you know my will.  
The cook received the heart.  
and made a running mess  
Of meat thereof, as men are wont  
that curious cates can dress.  
He minst it very small,  
not sparing any cost,  
For why, the knight his master, did  
allow him with the most.  
When time of eating came,  
Rossilyon sat him down,  
And eke the Lady, who for lack  
of Guardastan did frown.  
The meat was brought to bor●e,  
than he that gan to think  
Upon his murder lately done,  
could neither eat nor drink.  
At length the cook sent up  
that other mess of meat,  
But he, as one that had no list,  
did will his wife to eat,  
And set the dainty dish  
for her to feed upon.  
The Lady, somewhat hungry, fell  
unto the cates anon.  
And felt it very sweet,  
which made her feed the more,  
She rid the dish, and thought it had  
been of a savage Boar.  
Rossilyon, when he saw  
her stomach was so good,  
And that the meat was all consumed,  
the dishes empty flood:  
How think you wife (quoth he)  
how like you of your meat?  
Good sir (quoth she) I like it well,  
I had good list to eat.  
No wonder (quoth the knight)  
by God, although this cheer  
Do well content thee being dead,  
in life thou thoughtst it dear.  
The Lady hearing this,  
stood still, as one dismayed  
Upon the words, when pause was past,  
unto the knight she said,  
Why? what is that (good sir)  
which you have given me  
To sup withal? who answered thus:  
I do protest to thee,  
The food whereof thou fedst,  
was Guardastanoes heart,  
Whom thou didst so entirely love,  
and play'dst the harlot's part.  
Be bold it is the same,  
this knife his belly ripe,  
And from the rents with these my hands,  
the traitors heart I stripped,  
And cracked the strings in twain  
to ease my heart of woe  
That could not rest contented, but  
by murdering such a foe.  
The Lady, when she heard  
that Cuardastan was slain  
Whom she had loud, to ask where she  
lamented, were in vain,  
Conjecture of her cares,  
imagine her distress.  
It last (quoth she) thou cruel knight,  
(I can not term thee less)  
Hast played a wicked part,  
and done a curs● 〈…〉,  
In flaying of a 〈…〉 man.  
(O bloody 〈…〉 fact)  
A wight that word not me,  
'twas I that earned death,  
If any did deserve at all  
the loss of vital breath  
'twas I that did the deed,  
I loud, I do protest,  
And did of worldly men, account  
that worthy knight the best.  
How might he death deserve  
who loyal was to thee?  
But (mighty Gods) it is your will,  
and pleasure now I see,  
That these so noble cates,  
the heart of such a wight,  
In chivalry that did excel,  
a passing courteous Knight  
As Guardastano was,  
should be my latter meal,  
And that I should with base meats  
no more hereafter deal.  
Wherefore (good faith) quoth she,  
I do not loathe my food,  
And therewithal upon her legs  
the loving Lady stood  
Before a window, that  
was full behind her feet,  
And suddenly from thence she fell  
into the open street.  
Which deed no sooner done,  
the window was so high,  
But out of hand, her breath was stopped,  
and so the dame did die  
With carcase all to crushed,  
by reason of the fall.  
The knight her husband seeing this,  
(who was the cause of all)  
Stood like a man amazed.  
and then misliked sore  
Both of the Lady's loss, and eke  
the murthres knight before.  
And being then adread,  
and standing in a doubt  
Of Count Province, and the rest  
that bordered thereabout:  
He saddled up his horse,  
and road in post away:  
The night did favour his intent.  
As soon as it was day,  
'twas all the country through  
that such a dame was dead,  
And presently upon the fact  
the knight himself was fled.  
Then they that servants were  
of either castle, came  
With bitter tears, and took the dead,  
the knight, and take the dame,  
And in the castle Church,  
in marble hewed for twain,  
They buried both the murdered knight,  
and eke the Lady slaint.  
With verses on the grave,  
to show both who they were,  
And what was cause that Guardastan  
and she were buried there.    

The lenvoy,  

THE Poet that to Love did pen the path,  
And taught the trade cupido's yinpes to train,  
Within his second book advised hath,  
That who so looks, and would be willing ta'en,  
To keep his love unto himself, he must  
Neither brother, friend, nor yet companion trust.   

And hereupon his grounded reason grows,  
That each man seeks to serve himself in chief:  
And he to sight that friendliest countenance shows.  
Yet for his flesh will soon play the thief.  
As stolen Dear in taste exceeds the gift  
So gallantest gain is that which comes by shift.   

In greatest trust, the greatest treason lies,  
Where least we fear, there harm we soon find,  
In open foe each man full quickly flies,  
He woundeth most that strikes his blow behind:  
But little hurt the open Adder works,  
The Snake stings sore, that in the covert lurks.   

The barking Hound hath seldom hap to bite,  
His mouth bewrays his meaning by his cry:  
No bird upon the open twig● doth light,  
The naked Net each foolish foul doth fly:  
The hidden hook is he that doth the feat,  
Of sugared bane the wiliest mouse will eat.   

Who fears no fraud, with ease you may biguyle,  
The simple mind will soon be overgone:  
He takes least barm that doubts deceit and wile,  
And dreading thorns, doth let the Rose alone:  
The Trumpets sound bewrays the Foe at hand,  
And warning gives his fury to withstand.   

The glueing groom that fyghts before becomes,  
Is either voided,, or by sleight subdued;  
The way to win, is not to beat the drums,  
For threatening throats are easily eschewed:  
The surest mean to work another's woe,  
Is fair to speak and be a friend in show.   

Had not this knight reposed assured trust,  
Upon his friend, that loud him as his life,  
Can he so well have served his filthy lust?  
Or leisure had so to abused his wife?  
No, had he thought such treason hid in breast,  
He would have looked more nearly to his gu●st.   

But loving well, and meaning not amish,  
He loud him scope, without suspect of ill  
To come and go, to use the house as his,  
A perfect show of very great good will:  
Both purse and plate, both lands, and life, and all,  
(Save wife alone) lay pledge at every call.   

Which makes his fault, and foul offence the more,  
That did this deed and wrought this treachery.  
Against his friend that loud him evermore,  
And thought him void of vice of lechery:  
Good nature deemed that Guardastan could not,  
For fleshly just so dear a friend forgot.   

But see, how sin once seizing on the mind  
Doth muffle man and leads him quite away:  
It makes him pass beyond the bounds of kind,  
And swerver the trade where truth and virtues lay,  
Refuling friends, rejecting laws, and right,  
For greedy care to compass foul delight.   

And as the man herein deserveth shame,  
For stooping so to base and beastly vice,  
So are those dames exceedingly too blame.  
Whose glavering glee to lewdness doth entice:  
Who frame their looks, their gesture tongues and tale,  
To serve their turn in steed of pleasant stolen,   

Two sorts I find deserving trust aleeke,  
The mounting minds that sue for high estate,  
And such again as sensual pleasures seek,  
And hunt the haunt of every loving mate:  
Both which to come by what they like and love,  
Renounce their friends, and scorn the Gods above.   

But mark yet well the sauce that doth ensue,  
Such stoine flesh, is bitter as the gall,  
Great are the plagues to such disorders due,  
From skies revenge and fearful scourge doth fall:  
The doom divine although it suffer long.  
Yet strikes at last, and surely wreaks the wrong.   

For Heleus' rage king Menelaus wife,  
The Stories tell how Priam and his town  
Confounded were, and how for broil and strife  
In wrongful cause, the walls were battered down:  
Full many a knight in battle spent his blood,  
And all because the quarrel was not good.   

So when this Traitor knight had fed his fill,  
Upon Rossilions' wife, and wronged his friend,  
By foul abuse: in guerdon of his ill,  
The wrathful Gods brought him to wretched end  
To quit his glee, and all his former sport,  
He died the death in most unhappy sort.  
And she, who falsed he faith and marriage hest,  
And double penance for her pleasure past,  
For first she eat his heart she fancied best,  
And desperately did kill herself at last.  
Note here the fruits of treason and of lust:  
Forbear the like, for God is ever just:   
Nihil proditore tutum.  
Amore,  
Puo piu che ogni amicitia, et che ogni honore.    


The Argument to the fift History.  

THe Lombard albion conquered Cunimund,  
And after death of him enjoyed the state,  
And married with the Lady Rosamund,  
The Prince's daughter whom he slew so late:  
Whose skull he did convert into a pot,  
Because his conquest should not be forgot.  
His custom was at every feast he made,  
To drink therein for pomp and foolish pride,  
And on a time his Queen he 'gan persuade  
To do the like: whereto she nought replied  
But so much scorned his offer of disdain,  
As strait she drew a plot to have him slain.  
A noble man that Don Ermigio hight,  
With on Parradio by the Queen's deceit,  
Were wrought to kill this monster if they might,  
And by the sword they meant to do the fear:  
And so they did within little while,  
When least the king mistrusted any guile,  
Upon his death, Ermigio out of hand,  
Espoused the lady Rosamand to his wife,  
Which when longums chanced to understand  
He practised with the Queen to reave his life,  
To th'end that he might marry with his dame,  
Who gave consent to do this dead of shame.  
With venom vile to work she thought it best  
Which when Ermigio drank, and found the drift,  
By force be drove the Queen to drink the rest  
Who seeing that there was none other shift  
The pay son supped, and took it patiently.  
As just reward for both their villainy.  
Parradio eke whose helping hand did further  
The Lumbards' bave, and brought him to his death  
For guerdon due to him, to quit the murder,  
First lost his eyes, and after that his breath  
That men might see, how truly God doth  
And plague offences, lightly with the like.    


AMong those warlike wights  
That erst from Almain came,  
And other northly parts besides  
Those men that bear the  
Of Lombard's chunst to light  
In Italy and there  
Two hundred years and somewhat more.  
The only rule did bear  
Throughout that realm which we  
Now Lombardie do call:  
Until such time as Charles the Great  
Had dispossessed them all,  
And drove them theuce by force.  
And mean of knightly might?  
What time (I say) it was their lot  
In Italy to light.  
One Alboine was their chief,  
A man of monstrous wit,  
And valiant in the feat of arms  
For martial practice sit.  
This Alboin ere his came  
To Italy, had slain  
Ring Cunimundus and bereft  
Hina of his princely reign.  
And not content with death  
Nor having helly full  
Of noble blood, cut off his bead  
And of the cloven skull  
Did make a quaffing cup  
Wherein he took delight  
To bouse at board, in token of  
His pomp, and former fight.  
This Cunimundus had  
A daughter passing fair,  
Rosmunda hight, that was his joy,  
And should have been his heir,  
If he had kept his crown,  
And not been conquered so:  
But being slain, his daughter was  
A captive to his foe,  
This Captain kept her thrall,  
And meant it all her life:  
Till love at last this Lombard forced  
To take her to his wife.  
When marriage day was past,  
And he to battle fell,  
And conquering of Italy  
He loud his wife so well,  
As she might never part:  
But like a warlike dame,  
She ever lodged in open camp,  
Where so her husband came:  
Who sundry cities took,  
And conquered many a town,  
By force of sword, and Lion-like  
Went ramping up and down.  
Until at length he came  
To Pavoy, where of old,  
(As in the chiefest place of all)  
The kings their court did hold.  
When full three years and more,  
This Lumbarde there had lain:  
Unto Verona he removed,  
With all his princely train.  
And presently prepared  
A solemn banquet there,  
To feast his friends, and others that  
Of his retinue were.  
Amids which princely cheer  
And royal feast, the king,  
Did will the waiter on his cup,  
That he to board should bring  
The mazare that was made  
Of Cunimundus head:  
And having it in presence there,  
(Where he with wine were sped,  
Or else by malice moved,  
I wot near what to think)  
But having it in place, he gave  
His Queen the cup to drink.  
The cup her father's skull,  
O wilful witless act,  
Which no man well advised would do,  
But one that were distract.  
The Queen perceiving this  
In mockage to be meant  
Of Alboyne, as it was in deed,  
And saw his lewd intent,  
And how he skofte the king  
Her father in the same,  
Was stuffed with raging rancour straight,  
And blushed for very shame.  
In sort that all her love  
Which she had borne before  
Unto her husband, grew to hate,  
She loathed him ten times more  
Than ever she had loud  
Or fansted any wight:  
And thereupon resolved to do  
A mischief, if she might,  
And to revenge by death  
Of Alboyne, monstrous man,  
Her father Cunimundus blood,  
Lo here the broil began.  
For Rosmonde all in rage,  
Consulted with a peer,  
Ermigio called, a courtly wight,  
This noble man to steer  
To murder of the Prince,  
I leave her words unpende,  
This noble hearing whereunto  
Her long discourse did tend,  
Declared the Queen his mind,  
And uttered his conceit,  
And said Parradio was the man  
That must dispatch the feat:  
Without whose help (quoth he)  
I wot near what to say:  
I think him such a one as dares  
Such venturous parts to play.  
Your grace were best to prove,  
If he consent, you shall  
Not fail of me, but stand assured  
To have me at a call.  
Forthwith the Queen did cause  
Parradio to appear:  
Who after sundry offers made,  
And words of courtly cheer,  
To move him to the spoil  
Of Alboyn, thus replied:  
In vain your grace doth go about  
To have the king destroyed  
By these my guiltless hands,  
That day shall never be,  
I trust, the world shall never prove  
So foul a fact by me,  
As to procure the death  
And murder of the king:  
Of treason vile, to have a thought  
To practise such a thing.  
Leave off your lewd intent,  
Or seek some other wight  
To work your feat, I never yet  
In slaughter took delight.  
The Lady hearing this,  
Hnd having earnest zeal  
To work her will, rejecting shame,  
Bethought her how to deal.  
There did at self same time,  
Upon the Queen await,  
A proper wench, of comely grace,  
Full fit to make a bait  
To take such loving worms  
And hang them on the hook,  
Whose greatest pleasure is upon,  
A courtly dame to look,  
This gallant liked her glee.  
Her gesture, and her face,  
And by device did bape at last  
To purchase privy grace.  
Mean while the subtle Queen  
That found this lovers haunt,  
And knew he daily plied her maid,  
Thereby to make her grant  
And yield him his desire,  
Thus thought it best to work,  
In self same place where they did meet,  
In secret sort to lurk,  
As though it were the wench  
With whom he would debate,  
And so perhaps she might both check  
And give the fool a mate.  
Which happened so in deed:  
For on a certain day,  
The Queen to compass this her craft,  
Put on her maids array,  
And in the wont place,  
Where they did use to talk,  
Bestowed herself. When night was come  
Forth 'gan this gallant walk,  
And to the standing came  
Where lay this lodged do,  
Whom he had thought to be the maid,  
But it was nothing so.  
Straight he in wont wise,  
As custom was of yore,  
Pronounste his painted terms of love,  
And flattered mo●● and more,  
Bewraying all his thoughts,  
And ripping up his heart  
Unto the wench (for so he deemed)  
And played the lovers part.  
Ten thousand words he spoke,  
And tending all to love:  
Whom after all his long discourse,  
The Queen did thus reprove.  
Parradio dost thou know  
With whom thou standest here?  
Who thus replied in loving wise:  
Yea that I do (my dear)  
And named the self same maid,  
Who was his friend in deed,  
With whom he had conferrde of love,  
In great good hope to speed.  
What sir? you are beguiled,  
I am not she you ween:  
No serving maid assure thyself,  
I am (quoth she) a Queen.  
And Rosmond is my name,  
Now do I know thy mind,  
And privy am to all thy guile,  
Thou shalt be sure to find  
Of me a mortal foe:  
Now make thy choice of twain,  
Where thou wilt spoil the king my spouse  
Or thou thyself be slain,  
For this outrage of thine,  
Which thou hast done to me:  
Leave off delays, dispatch with speed,  
It may nane other be.  
Parradio hearing this,  
And pondering in his thought  
To how extreme a point by wile  
Of Rosmond he was brought:  
Resolved to slay the Prince,  
And rid him of his life:  
And for the better working of  
His feat, did use the wife  
The devilish Queen's devise,  
And Don Armigios aid.  
And in this sort these wicked folks  
The cruel pageant played:  
The king, as custom was,  
Because the day was hot,  
To take a nap at after noon,  
Into his chamber got.  
Where being softly laid,  
The place was voided straight,  
And eurte groom had leave to part  
That usually did wait.  
To yield the king his ease,  
Thus dealt the subtle dame.  
And to be sure to have her will,  
She shifted thence with shame  
Her sleepy husbands sword,  
Who then in slumber lay,  
For that he should by no devise  
Have power to scape away,  
This done, the cruel wights  
(Of whom I spoke before)  
With bloody minds, and armed hands  
Approached to the door:  
And up they thrust the same,  
And softly entered in:  
And stole upon the heavy prince,  
That slumbering long had been.  
Yet wrought it not so well,  
For all their thievish pace,  
But that king perceiude them when  
They came unto the place:  
Who mazed in his mid,  
And charged with sudden fear,  
To see these two suspected wights  
To press in presence there:  
Gate him up with Lion's rage,  
From cabin where he slept,  
And to his sword, for safeguard of  
His life and honour, leapt.  
But out, alas, the Queen  
Had reft the weapon thence,  
Which erst the Prince was wont to use.  
And wear for his defence.  
The Ruffians that in rage  
For blood and mischief sought,  
Bestowed their blows upon the king.  
That no such practice thought:  
And so bestirred themselves  
His weapons being bad,  
As in a while they slew him there,  
And so their purpose had,  
Vnwist of any wight,  
The murder was unseen,  
And known of none, but of the two,  
And of the cursed Queen,  
When this devise was wrought,  
Ermigio out of hand  
Did seize upon the Palace, with  
Intent to rule the land.  
And thought to wed the Queen,  
And so he did indeed:  
Whereto the Queen and all the rest,  
That favoured her, agreed.  
Imagine of their joys,  
Whom filthy sin did link,  
What pleasure they in kingdom took,  
I leave for you to think.  
But sure in my conceit,  
Where murder brings the wife,  
There wealth is woe, lust turns to loath,  
And liking grows to strife,  
But turn I to my tale,  
That plainly may appear,  
What hap befell, and whether they  
Did buy their marriage dear:  
The Lumbards' paiute that  
Their king was foully slain,  
And that by mean thereof they might  
Their purpose not aitaine:  
But should be forced to flee,  
Or worse hap to have  
By longer stay, their chiefest goods  
And jewels for to save,  
Trusst up in farthel wise,  
And so conveyed by stealth  
The Lady Aluisenda thence,  
(And eke good store of wealth.)  
Who daughter to the king,  
But lately murdered was,  
Not by this wife, but by the first:  
Away the Lumbards' pass,  
Unto Ravenna, where  
As God and fortune would,  
Longinus though Licuetenant to  
Tiberius, court did hold:  
Great Constantine his son,  
Whose Empire stretched wide,  
And under whom Longinus had  
In trust those Realines to guide.  
This Captain entertained  
Them in good loving wise  
And did the greatest friendship use,  
That he mought well devise.  
It fortuned so at last,  
(The cause I wot not well)  
Longinus to good liking of  
The Lady Rosmonde fell,  
Whose fausie grew so great  
Unto the featured wight,  
As marry out of hand he would  
To further his delight.  
To bring this match about,  
He practised with the dame,  
And gave advise that she should take  
In hand a deed of shame.  
The murder of the man  
That used her as his wife:  
There was no choice, but she must reave  
Ermigio of his life.  
The Queen that clean had cast  
The fear of God away,  
And awe of men, not weighing what  
The world of her might say:  
And thirsting for estate,  
Whereto she hoapte to climb:  
Prepared a poisoned drink for him  
Against his bathing time,  
And made in wise, she gave  
A wholesome Gossups' cup.  
Which he should find exceeding good,  
If he would drink it up.  
Who having no distrust  
Of wife, or devilish drift,  
With willing hands unto his mouth  
The poisoned pot did lift:  
And drank a greedy draft  
His former heat to quell:  
It was not long before the drink  
Unto his working fell:  
Which when he felt to rage  
And boil within his breast,  
And knew himself unto the death  
With venom vile possessed.  
He drew his desperate sword,  
In choler and despite,  
And drove the Queen to quaff the rest,  
And empt the vessel quite.  
Which done, at one self time,  
Both he and eke his Queen,  
Did end their lives, that hastners of  
King Albion's bane had been  
Oue poisoned syrrupe slew,  
This cursed couple tho,  
Whose beastly lives deserved so vile  
A death for living so.  
Which when Longinus heard,  
And how that matters went:  
The Lady Aluisinda straight  
Unto Tiberius' scent,  
And all her treasure eke  
That erst her fathers was.  
Withal, Parradio who did aid  
To bring these feats to pass.  
Who being there in place,  
In cruel sort was slain,  
And ere he died, was reft his eyes,  
To put him more to pain.   
Nullum peccatum impunitum.  
Ogni peccato a morte a'l fin Ihuom meva.   

The lenvoy.  

LO here the fatal end of murder done,  
Such bloody facts deserve no better hyte:  
〈◊〉 the thread that of such wool is spon,  
Mark well their lot that mischtese do conspire,  
It lighthe doth upon their heads retire:  
And th●ie that are the workers of the deed,  
Though long forborn, at last no better speed.   

See, to revenge when Rosmond once began,  
Incensed there to by wrath and deep disdain,  
She could not stint by murder of a man,  
Nor leave, although she saw her husoande slain,  
But thought she would attempt the like again:  
Her vice conceit was blinded all with blood,  
She could not turn about to see the good.   

Sold'st once in sin, and washed in waves of ill  
She ●amsht ruth, and pity flung aside,  
Yielding hay sel●e to spoil the slaughter still,  
Whom she misukte, should straight have furehe died.  
〈…〉 flames of wreak within her bowels fried:  
〈◊〉 being caid to high and princely state,  
In foul attempts, she could not want a mate.  
Worth while to note how such as bear the sway,  
And sit in seat of royal dignity,  
The righteous Gods without respect, do pay,  
And plague them for their hellish cruelty,  
With loss of honour lives and jollity:  
And such as are their ministers in ill.  
Either gallows eats, or fatal sword doth kill.   
Crude'ltasta spesso in donna bella.    


The Argument to the sixth History.  

THE king of Thunise had a daughter fair,  
Whose beauties brute through many countries ran:  
This Lady was her father's only heir,  
Which made her loud and liked of every man,  
But most of all the king of Granate than,  
Began to love, who for he was a king,  
By little suit, this match to cloth did bring,  
The promise passed between these noble states,  
The rested nought, but only her convey  
In safety home, for fear of roving mates,  
Who would perhaps assault them by the way:  
Wherefore the king Cicils pledge they pray,  
Who gave his word and Gauntlet from his hand,  
Not to be vexed by any of his land.  
Away they went, the ships forsook the shore,  
And held their couse to Granate ward amain,  
When suddenly Gerbino (who before  
Had loved the Queen, & did his match 〈◊〉  
With Galies came this royal prize to gain:  
The fight was fierce, a cruel battle grew,  
But he at length most likely to subdue.  
When Sarizens saw the force of bloody foe,  
And that they must surrender up the dame,  
Maugre their might, & needs their charge forego:  
What for despite, and what for very shame,  
And partly to discharge themselves of blame,  
They killed the Queen, Gerbino looking on,  
And threw her out, for fish to feed upon.  
To venge which deed, and cursed cruel act,  
He slew them all, not leaving one alive,  
With fire and sword the Sarizens he sacked,  
For that they durst so stouthe with him strive  
And did his love of life and light deprive.  
Yet back again to Cicill I'll retired,  
Missing the mark which he had long desyrde.  
When news was brought unto the aged king  
The Grandsire, how his nephew wilfully  
Had broke the league, and done a heinous thing,  
Committing spoil, and shameful piracy:  
Although he loud Gerbino tenderly,  
Yet did adjudge him to the death, because  
He did prefer his lust before the laws.    


King William, by report of such  
As dwelled within his land,  
Who second Prince of Cecil, held  
The Sceptre in his hand  
Two babes h●got upon his Queen,  
A male, that Ruggier hight:  
And eke a daughter, Constance called,  
A Dame of beauty bright.  
This Ruggier, whilst his father lived,  
By fortune had a Son,  
Gerbino named, of whom this tale  
Especially doth run.  
Who by his Grandsire nonrisht up  
And nurtured from a boy,  
At length became a proper man,  
And was the Prince's joy.  
His courteous nature won renown,  
His valiant courage known  
Not only in Cicilia was:  
But brute abroad had blown  
The fame thereof to foreign realms.  
His praise doth pass the bounds  
Of all the isle, where he was bred,  
And in Barbaria sounds:  
Who to the Ring of Cycill paid  
Their tribute money then:  
Which great renown of Gerbins' name  
Unto the ears of men  
Was brought that every one extolleth  
His virtues to the sky:  
Who but Gerbin● all abroad,  
Whose fame like his did fly?  
Among the rest that heard report  
Of Gerbin, was a dame,  
The daughter of the king of Tunise  
(I wot not well her name)  
But as (the men that saw her vaunt)  
She was the fairest hewed,  
And trimmest shaped, that ever kind  
Had cast or creature vewde  
Whose body-was no braver decked  
With lovely limbs without  
Than was her mind with manners fraught  
And virtues round about.  
This Lady hearing noble men  
Oft reasoning of renown  
That Gerbin wan, by worthy deeds,  
And how his fame did drown  
That chivalry of all the rest:  
And that his courage was  
So great as he inmanly feats  
All other knights did pass,  
Delighted very much therein,  
She liked the talk so well,  
And stood so long devising of  
H●● prowess, that she fell  
To like Gerbino, though unseen:  
She felt her breast to fry  
With fancy's flame, and was of him  
Enamoured by and by.  
So that it did her good at heart  
To hear of Gerbines' fame,  
And the herself among the rest  
To publish out the same.  
As willing as she was before  
To bear of others talk,  
So glad this Lady wox at last.  
To have her tongue to walk.  
The plainest proof of great good will  
That lurking lies in breast:  
For when the mind doth like, the mouth  
Can never be at rest.  
And on the other side, as fast  
This peerless Princess fame  
Was noysde abroad, and so in fine  
To Cicill I'll it came:  
There was her beauty bruited much,  
As other where beside:  
So long till Gerbin through report  
Of his fair Lady fried.  
And felt himself enlaste in love,  
And tangled in the net:  
That willie C●pid erst to take  
His loving Lady see.  
This heat did ●aily gr●●● to mor●  
Within the gallants breast,  
And did torment him so within,  
That he to purchase rest,  
devised an honest lawful skuse  
To part from Cicill I'll,  
And got him leave to trau●●le vn●●  
Tunise for a while,  
Upon desire to se● the dame,  
Whose fancy bond him thrall:  
And gave in charge unto his fyende,  
And folks he went withal,  
As much as ever lay in them  
To further his intent,  
As every one should think it best:  
And tell her what was meant  
Of Gerbines' part, and how he loud,  
Enduring bitter pain  
For her, and from the noble Queen  
To bring him news again.  
Of whom, those men that had the wit  
To handle matters well,  
Went Merchant like unto the court,  
Fine jewels there to sell:  
Which they of purpose brought from hon  
And Ladies use to buy,  
As rings, and stones, and carkenettes,  
To make them please the eye,  
And by this practice in they got  
Within the Palace gate,  
And made their show, and merchantlike  
In every point they sat,  
To spy a time to move their suit  
Unto the noble Dame:  
Who, in a while that they had been  
In place, by fortune came,  
And twharted where Cicylians sat,  
Upon desire to see  
Such jewels as might like her best,  
Now here began the glee:  
For one that had a filed tongue,  
And durst his tale to tell  
And look a Lady in the face,  
Unto his purpose fell.  
And after reverence done, began  
To say in sober sort,  
That Gerbin willed him to repair  
Unto her father's court,  
To see, and to salute her grace,  
Whom he did tender more  
Than all the Ladies on the earth,  
That he had seen before.  
Her love had pierced his noble breast,  
And cleft his manly heart:  
And he was well contented with  
The stroke of Cupid's dart.  
Both he, and all the wealth he had  
Was hers to use at will,  
Requesting her to take in worth  
Gerbinos great good will:  
I can not pen the tale he told,  
So well in every place,  
As he, perhaps, pronounced it then:  
The gesture gives the grace.  
But this you may assure yourself,  
He dealt so orderly,  
As needed: for the Princess did  
Receive him thankfully:  
And did accept his message well,  
With answer to the same,  
That as Gerbino burned in love,  
So she did fr●e in flame,  
And felt as hot a cool as he  
Within her tender breast:  
If inward love, by secretache,  
And griping might be guessed.  
And to th'end her former talk  
Unfeigned might appear,  
She sent Gerbino such a ring,  
As she did hold most dear.  
A jewel of no slender prieè,  
The value did excel:  
This message being vorne him back  
Did like the Lover well,  
The token highly was esteemed,  
No richesse mought have pleased  
His fancy half so well, as that,  
For why? his smart was eased.  
And after that, he sundry times  
Sent friendly lines of love,  
And tokens to the Princess, by  
The man that first did move  
The suit, and broke the matter up:  
Devising how he might,  
And meant himself to talk with her,  
If fortune fell aright.  
But matters being at this hand,  
And luckily begun:  
Deferring off from day to day  
The thing that should been done:  
Whilst Gerbin melted with desire  
His Lady to embrace:  
And she again did long as much  
To see her lovers face.  
It so befell, the king of Tunise  
His daughter spoused had  
Unto the Prince of Granate, which  
Did make the Lady sad.  
She wox the woefull'st dame alive,  
For being matched so:  
It did not only grieve her, that  
She was compelled to go  
So far away from Gorbin: but  
The thing that nipt her near,  
Was, that she feared she never should  
Have seen her lover dear,  
Once being p●ried from the place  
In all her life again:  
And hereupon she willing was,  
And would been very fain  
To scape the King her father's hands,  
And lived with Gerbin aye:  
She beat her brains, devising means  
By stealth to run away  
Likewise the knight was cloyed with care,  
And lived a woeful man.  
Her marriage known, his valiant breast  
To throb and ache began:  
Was never wight in greater woe,  
Nor angry mood than he:  
At length when care was somewhat past,  
He thought his help to be,  
And only aid to rest in force,  
Wherefore he did intend  
By strength of hand to win his loan,  
When so the king should send  
Her home unto her husbands reahne:  
Love had possessed him so,  
As, he the Princess to enjoy.  
Through fire and floods would go.  
The king of Tunise having heard  
Some inkling of good will,  
That was betwixt the knight and her,  
And doubting of some ill  
That Gerbin would pretend: besides,  
Well knowing that he was  
A valiant wight and one that did  
Full manly prowess pass:  
When time was come to send the queen  
Unto her husband's land,  
By letters which he sent, he let  
King William understand  
His meaning and his full inteent,  
And did request beside,  
To have assurance at his hands,  
That he would so provide,  
That not a man within his Realm  
Should hinder his pretence,  
Nor Gerbin make resistance, when  
He sent his Lady thence.  
The hoary grave Cicilian king,  
That laden was with age,  
And witted not of his daughter's idue,  
Nor yet Gerbinos' rage,  
Nor deeming that the king's demand  
Did tend to such effect,  
Did frankly yield his suit, as one  
That did no ill suspect.  
And for assurance of the fame,  
To rid the prince of fear,  
He sent his Gentlet, for a pledge  
That things confirmed were.  
Who having such assurance made,  
Let build a mighty barks  
In Carthage Haue● and did ri●  
The same with earnst cark.  
And finely finished up the ship.  
In mind, without delay.  
Unto Granata, by the Seas,  
To send the Queen away.  
He wanted nothing save the time  
To complish his intent:  
Mean while the wanton Princes, that  
Knew her father meant,  
And smelling out his purpose, caused  
Her man in post to go,  
Unto Palermo covertly,  
To let Gerbino know,  
Both of the Ladie● late contract.  
And that by ship she must  
Within a while to Granat got,  
To serve her husband's lus●.  
Wherefore tell Gorbine, if he he  
The man in deed (quoth she)  
And such a valiant Knight at arms  
As he hath bragged to me,  
And often boasted of himself  
Or bear me half the love,  
He made in wise: he knows my mind,  
I shall his courage prove.  
The messenger that had the charge  
Did as the Queen had wild:  
And made return to Tunise, when  
He had her hest fulfilled.  
When Gerbin had received the news,  
Both of her going thence,  
And also that his Granstre gave  
His glove for their defence  
That should co●●ey the Princess home  
Unto her husband's land:  
He doubtful wox, and witted not what  
Was best to take in hand.  
But weighing well the Lady's words  
Whom he did most embrace:  
To make a proof of faithful love  
In such a doubtful case,  
Unto Messina straight he went,  
And there two Galleys made:  
And armed them well with valiant men,  
And skilled in Rovers trade.  
And to Sardinia did convey  
Himself, and all his rout:  
Intending there to make his stay,  
And linger thereabout,  
Till time the Queen by shipping came  
Which was within a space:  
For why Gerbino had not long  
Continued in the place.  
But that he might perceive aloof  
One under sail that came,  
And had but slender gale: he knew  
It straight to be the same  
Wherein the Queen his mistress went:  
The Gods would have it so,  
For at that instant slender was  
The wind that there did blow.  
Then (quoth Gerbino to his mates)  
If you be valiant men,  
(As I have thought you all to be,  
And do account you:) then  
There is not one among you all  
I dare avow, but erst  
Hath been in love, or presently  
With Cupid's shaft is pierced:  
And certainly withouten love  
Within the breast of man,  
No goodness grows, as I do deem  
Nor any virtue can.  
And if you love, or ever did,  
Then lightly may you guess  
The great desire, and burning love  
That doth my heart oppress.  
I do confess I am in love,  
And Cupid causer was  
That I procured you hither now,  
To bring my will to pass,  
And undertake this present toil.  
The yonder ship you see,  
And in the ship doth rest a dame,  
The only joy of me.  
And eke besides my Lady dear  
Whom I would have so feign,  
Great wealth there is, to quit your toils,  
An easy thing to gain.  
Small fight (no doubt) will serve the turn,  
If you will play the men:  
Which booty, if we may achieve,  
(My mates) assure you then  
I only will the Lady gain,  
That is my only care:  
As for the goods, I am content  
Among yourselves to share.  
Wherefore (my friends) attempt the fight,  
Let courage never fail:  
The Gods you see are willing, that  
We should the ship assail.  
You see she hath no gale to go,  
She can not pass away:  
Fight freely, all the spoil is yours,  
You shall be made to day,  
There needed not so many words  
Their willing hearts to win:  
For why encountering rat●er than  
Their lives they would ha●● been  
The booty bred the great desire,  
They thought his tale too long:  
The greedy lust of prey did prick  
Those lusty Lads along.  
Wherefore as soon as he had told  
His tale, the trumpets blewe:  
And every man his weapon caught,  
And to the oars they flew,  
And to the shipwarde on they wet,  
With all the speed they might:  
The men aboard that see them come  
Prepared themselves to fight.  
For why they could not scape away,  
The Galleys were so near,  
And eke the wind so slender was  
To cause the ship to steer.  
When Gerbin did approach the bark,  
He willed the chiefest men,  
That were the guides, and ruled the ship,  
To come aboard him then,  
Unless they meant to fight it out,  
The Sarizens that saw  
Both who they were, & what they would,  
Said that they broke the law  
Which erst the Prince of Cicill made  
Unto their Sovereign, and  
To make the mattir plain, they showed  
The Gauntlet of his hand:  
Lo here King Williams Glone (quoth they)  
Behold it here in sight:  
This is your Passport, nought ye get,  
Unless it be by sight.  
Gerbino having erst descried  
The beauty of the dame  
Aloft the Poop, began to fry  
And melt with greater flame  
Than ever he had done before:  
For than her feature seemed,  
far fresher than in all his life  
The lusty lover deemed.  
And there upon enraged thus  
By beauty of the Queen:  
He gave his froffing answer, when  
He had the Gauntlet seen:  
Good faith (quoth he) I need no glove,  
My Falcon is away:  
I have no use to put it to:  
But if without delay  
You do not yield the Lady up,  
Prep are yourselves to sword:  
For sure, unless I have my will,  
You shall he laid aboard.  
And present●● upon the 〈◊〉  
Without a farther talk,  
The arrows flew● from 〈…〉,  
The bullot stones did walk●●  
A cruel fight 〈…〉  
On either part a space:  
But when Gerb●●● 〈◊〉 at longth  
His force could take no place,  
Helades a Lyter all 〈◊〉,  
And with his galleys went  
Full closely to the mighty ship,  
They seeing his intent,  
And knowing this, of very force  
That they must yield, or die●  
Did make no more 〈◊〉, but caused  
The Princes by and by,  
(That under harthun sobbing sat  
Gerbinos only lone)  
To leave her tears, 〈…〉 herself  
Upon the deck above.  
Who, as upon the foreship stolde  
In presence of them all,  
The hellish hounds, the Sarizens,  
Unto the Knight did call,  
And full before his face, they s●u●,  
With many a bloody blow  
The Ludie, crying out for grace:  
And having done, did throw  
Her carved carcase from the ship  
Into the brackish flood:  
And to Gerbino therewithal  
Exclaymde, and cried a good:  
Lo, take sir Knight, we yield her up  
Unto thy craving hands,  
In sort as lies in us to do,  
And as the broken bands  
Which thou hast (reckless man) despised,  
Deserve: now do thy best.  
Gerbino, having viewed the deed,  
And weighed within his breast  
The tigers hearts, and bloody minds  
Of those that slew the dame,  
Did make no more ado, but close  
With dreadless courage came  
A board the ship, and there begun  
Without respect of grace,  
Full Lion like, that lacks his prey,  
When bullocks are in place:  
To do those wicked slaves to death,  
He did not favour one.  
Some re●t he with his eager teeth,  
He set his nails upon  
Some other, breaking all their bones,  
To glut his hungry heart,  
That longed for vengeance of the fact.  
Then 'gan he play his part,  
With sharp and cruel sword in hand,  
As one without remorse:  
He seared me one, and scotched an other,  
And mangled every corpse.  
Meanwhile the flame began to grow,  
And kindle all about  
The bloody bark, and bodies slain,  
The sparks began to spout.  
The knight to save the taken spoil,  
Did cause his water men,  
To bear away such booty as  
Serve their purpose then.  
Which done, he left the burning ship,  
And to his galleys goes,  
With woeful conquest of the Mores  
That were his mortal foes.  
Then willed he all the Lady's limbs  
That in the water were,  
To be uptaken, piece by piece,  
Not one to tarry there.  
Which bones he long bewept with tears,  
That in abundant wise,  
For very grief distilled were  
By lymbeckes of his eyes.  
And after many doleful plaints,  
And profess of lovers pain,  
Returning home unto the Isle  
Of Cicille again,  
He caused her body to be tumbd  
In Vstica, an isle  
Full sore against Traponus soil.  
And then within a while,  
He hied him to his native home,  
A man of heavy heart,  
Meanwhile the king of Tunise, that  
Had tiding of the part  
That late was played, attired all  
In black, his legates sent  
To Cicill, to the king to show  
His grace, how matters went,  
And all the order of the fact,  
And let him understand  
How that his nephew broken had  
By rash attempt, the band.  
Whereof king William wrathful wor,  
And seeing that he must  
Of force, or show himself a Prince,  
Or not be counted just:  
He made Gerbino to be tant,  
And kept in iron gives.  
His nobles could not change his mind,  
And purpose, for their lives.  
He judged his nephew to the death,  
And losing of his life:  
There passed not many days, but that  
Gerbino felt the knife,  
And did eudure his grandsires wrath,  
Who rather wished to see,  
His nephew murdered, than himself  
A faithless King to be.  
And thus these two unhappy wights  
Without the fruits of love  
Had shameful deaths, as you have heard  
By this discourse above.    

lenvoy.  

WHo works against his sovereign Priuces word,  
And stands not of the penalty in awe,  
Well worthy is to feel the wrathful sword,  
And die the death appointed by the law:  
No favour is to such offenders due,  
That, ere they did amiss, the mischief knew.   

For Prince's wills are ever to be weighed,  
The statutes are the strength and stay of all,  
When laws are made, they ought to be obeyed,  
What royal Peers, by pledge, or promise, shall  
At any time confirm to friend or foe,  
Must stable stand, the law of arms is so.   

For they are second Gods in earth below,  
Assigned to rule and strike the only stroke,  
Their crowns and sceptres, be of perfect show,  
That all estates are underneath the yoke:  
What they shall say, or do in any case,  
By duty ought to take effect and place,   

Wherefore who dares adventure up so high,  
And proudly press to alter kings decres,  
Not fearing what may light on them thereby,  
Nor forcing what they shall by folly lose:  
Of law deserve the hardest point to bide,  
For scorning those whom God appoints to guide.   

When royal Rome did flourish in estate.  
In ancient age, the Senate bearing sway,  
The laws were so severe, as who forgot  
To live upright, and do as they did say:  
Was presently committed to the block.  
Without respect to blood, or noble stock,   

Some in exile were sent to foreign lands,  
Leaving their wives, and little babes behind,  
Some sons were slain even by the father's hands,  
Who favouring right, forgot the saw of kind:  
justice in Rome bore then so great a sway,  
As no man durst good orders disobey.   

We read of one, a ruler grave and wise,  
Who made a law, and that to this effect,  
That he should be bearest of both his eyes,  
Whom any of adultery might detect:  
And bring good proof that it was so in deed,  
Upon which act, the sages all agreed,   

It so befell, his son against the law  
Did first offend, that first devised the same,  
Which fortune when the woeful father saw,  
And that his son could not avoid the blame:  
For justice sake did thus devise to deal,  
To give example in the common weal.   

Where as the law expressly willed, that he  
Who did offend, should be bereft his sight,  
The father with his son did so agree  
As each did lose an eye the fault to quite.  
Wherein the father showed himself severe.  
And yet as ruthful as the law could bear.   

O worthy wight. O ruler fit to reign,  
That rather chose his chude to punish so,  
And eke himself to bide some part of pain,  
Than parciaily to let offences go:  
A double tomb was due unto his bones,  
For being just and ruthful both at once.   

King Romulus who let the city build,  
And fonnder was of all that royal race,  
That none should overleap his rampire wild,  
Which Remus did the fortress to disgrace:  
Which when his brother saw in mockage meant,  
With wrathful sword be five him ere he went.   

So here this aged Prmes of Cicilie,  
When he had plegd and pawned his honour down,  
Though less offence to slay by cruelty,  
His nephew, than to stane his kingly crown:  
For iusti●e is the chief and only thing  
That is required and looked for in a king.   

Wherefore what Peers, and Princes once have wild,  
No subjects should endeavour to undo:  
For kings will look to have their beasts fulfilled,  
And reason good that it should aye be so.  
As beasts obey the leftie Lions look,  
So mean estates must puissant Princes brook.   

Ill fares the bark amid the broiling seas,  
Where every swain controls the masters skill,  
And each one stires at heline himself to please,  
And follows not the cunning Pilots will:  
So realms are ruled but badly, where the base  
●ill check the chief, that sit in highest place.     


The Argument to the seventh History,  

Amerchants' daughter loud her brother's boy  
That kept the shop, of lineage basely borne,  
Which groom became the damsels only joy,  
Whereat the brothers took no little scorn:  
That he who was a youth of no account,  
Presumed unto their sifters bed to mount.  
So deeply sank disdain within their breast,  
As nought save death their malice might assuage  
Those stately merchants mought not be at rest,  
Till time they had dispatched the silly page:  
Wherefore they all, with one consent agreed,  
To murder him, & so they did in deed.  
Whose absence long did grieve the tender maid  
That wept the days, & spent the night in tears,  
Not knowing where he was, nor why he stayed:  
It so fell out in fine, the ghost appears  
Amid her dream, of him that so was slain,  
And bid her stint her tears, that were in vain.  
He wried his wounds, he showed the shameful  
He told the traitors treason, & the train  
That wrought his bane, & whence their malice rose blows  
And where his mangled carcase they had laines  
Which process told, he vanished out of sight,  
The wench awoke, a heavy woeful wight.  
To try the truth of what her vision spoke,  
She got a mate of trust, and on she hide  
Unto the place, a perfect view to take:  
Where after search, the body she espied,  
The body of her friend so lately dead,  
Whose hmmes she buried, bearing thence the head,  
Which head she plashed within a basel pot,  
Well covered all with harden soil aloft,  
Her daily use was to lament his lot,  
That so was slain: she wept and sorrowed oft:  
So long, until her brothers stole away  
The basel pot, wherein her lover lay.  
This second grief compared to the furst,  
That she (poor wench) had suffered for her friend,  
Increased her cares, and made her heart to burst,  
Whose life did whole upon the pot depend:  
The merchants, when they saw their sister ded.  
For fear of law, in post their country fled.    


OF yore within Messyna dwelled  
Three brothers, merchant men,  
Left wealthy by their father's death,  
Who died by fortune then.  
This merchant had beside his sons,  
A daughter, very young,  
Elizabeth by name, in whom  
With beauty, nurture sprung.  
Which nymph, as nature furnished had  
With seemly shape to view:  
So in her tender breast, a troop  
Of honest manners grew.  
Which gifts of course are wont to cause  
Good liking, and good will  
But yet for all these virtues rare,  
This virgin's luck was ill,  
Or else her brother's cruel were:  
For she was ripe to wed.  
And yet without a married mate,  
Her lusty prime she led,  
It fortuned so, at self same time  
This damsels brother had  
A younker, that did keep the shop,  
A very handsome lad.  
Lorenzo was the prentice name,  
To whom they gave the charge  
Of shop and warchouse, all was his,  
To buy and sell at large.  
This imp being very neat and frim  
Of person, and of wit,  
And passing pleasure in devise,  
A man for folly fit:  
By gesture and demeanour, set  
This damsels heart on fire,  
Who but Lorenzo with the wench●  
He was her chief desire.  
When thus the virgin lived in love,  
This prentice did perceive,  
By noting her from day to day,  
He then began to leave  
His foreign haunt at game abroad,  
And only bend his breast  
To love of her, of whom he saw  
Himself so sure possessed.  
Thus liking grew from less to more,  
The faggot equal was  
That burned within these loners breasts,  
And brought the match to pass.  
For why there were not many days,  
Before the wench and he  
Gave full assurance of good will,  
It might none other be.  
Each felt the fruit of former gripes,  
Each lover found such sweet  
In Venus' joys, as sundry times  
At pointed place they meet,  
And sport as the manner is  
Of wanton Cupid's crew,  
That more respect the present toys,  
Than troubles that ensue.  
And thus in play they spent the time,  
But love gives such a flame,  
As few, or none, have reason how  
To quench, or hide the same.  
For why the light bewrays itself  
Unto the looker's flight.  
So fared it by these lovers two,  
For on a certain night  
As she (good wench) was hasting to  
Lorenzo, where he lay:  
Her eldest brother chanced to see  
And tract her on the way,  
And knew for certain that she went  
Unto the prentice bed:  
But like a witty man he held  
His peace, and nothing said.  
Although it was a death to him  
So foul a fact to know,  
Yet reason, and good nature did  
Persuade this merchant so.  
As after sundry doubtful thoughts  
That wandered in his head,  
He was content to hold his tongue,  
And so he went to bed.  
I leave to descant of his dreams:  
But sure I scarce believe  
He slept at case, who saw a sight  
That so his heart did grieve.  
When morning came, & stars did start,  
The man that saw the deed  
The night before, rose up, and gate  
Him to the rest which speed  
And told his brothers what had happed:  
And after long devise,  
And counsel had upon the case:  
Because their sister's vice  
Should purchase them no open shame,  
Nor yet their lineage blot:  
They purposed so to deal in things  
As though they witted it not:  
Until such time as fortune served,  
Without mistrust or blame,  
To rid away the party that  
Had done them all the shame:  
Mean while they bore a merry face,  
And show of friendly heart,  
To outward sight, unto the man  
That played so vile a part.  
The better to reveuge the wrong.  
For that an open foe  
Is easy to be voided, when  
His looks his rancour show.  
Which made them laugh in wont wne,  
With him that had defiled  
Their sifter, till such time as they  
The lecher had beguiled:  
Which happened in a little space.  
For being in this glee,  
The brothers did devise to take  
Their horse, and ride to see  
The country for a day or twain:  
And as the Proverb goes,  
The more the mertier is the feast.  
And thereupon it rose,  
They prayed Lorenzo's company  
For sport, and solace sake.  
Who though would gladly stay at home,  
His wont mirth to make  
With her that was his only joy:  
Yet granted his consent  
To go abroad, suspecting no  
Such mischief as they meant:  
These merchants, and the prentice thus  
Their prancing jenates took,  
And bravely out of town they road  
In all the haste to look  
A place wherein to do the deed,  
I mean Lorenzo's death.  
They had not journeyed far, before  
Whey came unto a Heath  
Besides the way a desert where  
No travel was in dre.  
And being brothers there alone,  
They thought themselves as sure  
As needed, to dispatch a man,  
That no such force did fear.  
The short is thus, they made no words,  
But slew Lorenzo there.  
Mine author writes not of his wounds,  
But reason gives it so,  
That in revenge of his abuse  
Each brother had a blow:  
Whose body thus bereft of life,  
They buried in such sort,  
As no man saw the fact, nor none  
Can ever make report.  
The Prentice slain, the carcase laid  
In grave, the warchant men  
Vn●● Messyn ●hence they came,  
Returned back again.  
And to dissemble this their deed,  
They bruited all abroad,  
That lately in affairs of theirs  
The youth Lorenzo road,  
And travailed touching merchants gain:  
Which made the tale the more  
Of credit, for because he used  
To do the like before.  
Elizabeth, at last, that saw  
The lingering of the man,  
And that he stayed beyond his time,  
To languish sore began.  
And as the custom is of love,  
To deem each hour a day,  
Each day a year, each year an age,  
When lovers are away:  
So she that thought his absence long,  
And lived in bitter pain,  
Did question with her brothers, of  
His coming home again.  
Demanding when the time was set,  
And when the day would be,  
That she Lorenzo safe returned,  
From foreign coast should see.  
To whom her brother thus replied,  
With countenance cursed and grim,  
What dost thou mean to question thus?  
Hast thou to do with him  
For whom thou dost demand so oft:  
Good faith, unless thou leave  
These terms in time, thou shalt from us  
An answer fit receive  
And well agreeing to thy deeds.  
Which bitter gird did nip  
This silly maid, as she eftsoon  
Began to bite her lip.  
And wore the woefull'st wench alive,  
Nor after durst to make  
The like demand again, for him  
That suffered for her sake:  
But spent the day in doleful plaints,  
And sobbed in secret wise,  
The bitter torment of her breast  
Braced out and bathed her eyes,  
With sundry showers of trickling tears  
Distilling by her face,  
She often called him by his name,  
And willed him home a pace.  
Lamenting much his long delay,  
Whom she did love so well.  
Whilst thus the maiden stood on terms,  
Upon a night it fell,  
That after many hearty sighs,  
And sundry cries,  
For lack of Lorenze, slumber came  
And shut her aching eyes.  
Who was no sooner fallen a sleep,  
But dreams began to grow  
Within her raging reckless brain:  
Then seemed to open show,  
Her murdered friend to stand in place,  
With usage pale and wan,  
And chakes with buffets blown out.  
The garments of the man  
Were all to rent, his robes were rag●:  
And, as the wench did guess,  
Lorenzo in her dream bespoke  
Her thus. Thy deep distress  
(O faithful friend) I well perceive,  
I see my long delay  
Doth cause thy cries: for my return  
In grief thou pynste away:  
My absence is the cause of care,  
Thou dost accuse thy friend  
Of longring, and thy bevy plaints  
A see, can have no end.  
Wherefore (I say,) dry up thy tears,  
That flow like floods of rain:  
Lament no more, I cannot come,  
Though I would near so fain.  
For why, the day thou sawst me last,  
Was ender of my life:  
Thy brothers, whilst I road with them,  
Slew me with sudden knife.  
And therewithal he showed the place  
Where dead his body lay:  
And willed her weep for him no more,  
And vanished so away.  
The wench awroke, and credit gave  
Unto this dream of hers,  
Which made her to bemoyst her face  
And bosom all with tears:  
Full bitterly she did bewail  
The murder of her love.  
When morning came, & Phoebus' beams  
The darkness did remove,  
Not daring to disclose the thing  
Unto her brothers, she  
Did mind to go unto the place,  
Of purpose there to see  
Where that her dream were true, or no,  
Which troubled her the night.  
And being that this Damfell was  
At liberty, and might  
For pleasure wander out, and home,  
In company of one  
A woman friend, that wont was  
To walk with her alone,  
And privy was of all her deeds:  
As rathe as she might rise,  
With mother nurse she gate her out,  
And to the heath she hies:  
Where by coviecture lay the coarse  
Of him that murdered was.  
As soon as they arrived there,  
She scrapped away the grass,  
And swéepte the parched leave aside:  
And where at first she found  
The hardest soil, and stoniest bank,  
Began to delve the ground:  
She had not digged any depth,  
But lighted by and by,  
Upon her lovers woeful corpse,  
Unwasted that did lie  
And uncorrupted in the grave:  
Whereby the maiden knew  
That all the vision which she saw  
The night before was true.  
Whereat she waylde and wept a good,  
But knowing that the place  
Was far unfit for sighs and tears,  
Which could not right the case:  
She would have gladly borne away  
The carcase, to have laid  
It in a decent tomb at home,  
Save that she wanted aid.  
Wherefore she drew me out a knife,  
Wherewith away she swapte  
Her lovers head, and up the same  
In linen cloth she lapte:  
And covered up the corpse again,  
And gave the head to bear,  
Unto the nurse, her trusty friend,  
That was of purpose there:  
She tucked it in her apron close,  
(As women use to do)  
And so unseen, from thence unto  
Messina home they go.  
Where being come, and entered to  
Her chamber with the head:  
She shut the door, and on the same  
So long her tears did shed:  
Until with brine she all besprent  
It, as it lay in place:  
And now and then among her cries,  
She all bekist the face.  
Which done, she took an earthen pot,  
Wherein she used to set  
Her basil, or her Parsely seed,  
The best that she mought get.  
Whereto in folds of silken lawn  
She put Lorenzo's skull,  
And after that, with garden soil,  
She poured the pitcher full:  
And strewed her finest basil seed  
About aloft the same,  
From whence like Orange water, sinell,  
Or Damask roses came.  
And daily after that, she sat  
Embracing of the Can,  
And culling of it in her arms,  
As though it were the man,  
Whom she entirely loud before:  
And after kissing, than  
She would to tears, and sighing sobs,  
From sighs, to tears again.  
Continuing so, until such time  
As she had watered all  
The basil, with the dreary drops,  
That from her face did fall:  
So that at length by tract of time,  
Or grossness of the ground,  
By reason of the rotting head,  
The basil did abound,  
And gave a passing pleasant smell.  
The wench did never leave  
This folly, till the neighbour's chanste  
Her practice to perceive.  
Who, (when her brothers mused that  
Her beauty did decay,  
And that into her hollow brows  
The eyes were sunk away.)  
He spoke then thus, we stand assured,  
It is her daily gise,  
To go into the garden, where  
The Basil pot it lies:  
And there to weep in woeful wise,  
A wretched wench to see:  
The brothers when they heard the tale,  
And having willed that she  
Should leave that fond and foolish trade,  
But saw it booted not,  
Did make no more ado, but hide  
Away the basil pot  
Which, when she happed to come again,  
And not to find it there,  
Full earnestly began to crave  
The same with many a tear:  
And being bard thereof, begun  
To wax diseased, and all  
Her sickness time, for nothing but  
The basil pot did call,  
Her brothers not a little muzde  
To hear her strange request,  
In craving of the pot, and ther.  
Upon did think it best  
To see the same, and make a search:  
Who having powered out  
The earth that was within the pot,  
Est soon espied a clout,  
And in the cloth, the head inwrapte,  
So fresh and fair to view,  
As it to be Lorenzo's head,  
By curled he are they knew.  
Which set them in a sudden dump,  
And made them greatly dread,  
The murder would be brought to light  
By reason of the head:  
And hereupon they hide the skull,  
And laid it in a grave,  
And from Messina went by stealth  
Themselves from death to save:  
Intending, being fled the town  
If they might pass unspied,  
From thence, in post, upon the spurt,  
To Naples strait to ride.  
And thus I leave the merchant men  
Their journey forth to take,  
Who after sped, I wot near how:  
But thus an end I make:  
The silly wench, amid her grief  
Did never leave to cry,  
To have the basil pot again.  
But when she did espy,  
That all her calling was in vain,  
Her tears did never blind  
To issue from her crystal eyes,  
Till timy the heart within  
For very anguish, braced in twain.  
Then Clotho came to rid  
The mourning Damsel of distress,  
And broke her vital third.  
Lo here the lot of wicked love,  
Behold the wretched end  
Of wilful wights, that wholly do  
On Cupid's laws depend.   
un puoco dolce multo amaro appaga.   

lenvoy.  

If all the earth were paper made, to write.  
And all the Sea converted into ineke,  
It would not serve to show Cupid, might:  
No head can half his bloody Conquests therske:  
Unto his yoke he forceth every wight,  
No one away dares for his life to shrink.  
Who most contends, the widest wound receives,  
For Cupid then by force his freedom reaves.   

The sage who said, that (love exceeded all)  
Pronounced the troth, and spoke as we do find:  
He witted full well, that every wight was thrall  
Unto the God that feadreth is and blind:  
No Poet him, but Prophet may we call,  
For that of love so dearly he defined:  
For Cupid with a look doth wound more hearts,  
Then thousand spears, or thousand deadly darts.   

Which Caesar saw, who fundrye Realines subdued,  
Whereby his feign did reach the stately starts,  
For when that he fair Cleopatra viewed,  
He fell to love, for all his civil wars:  
In aged breast his youthfyll wounds renewed,  
Where Cupid's scourge had left him sundry scared.  
That learned Marcus, so rendwinde for wit,  
For Faustine fair was rid with loving bit.   

Eke Annybal of Carthage manly wight,  
That past the Alps to come to Italy,  
Whose puissance put the Roman host to flight:  
For all his force and prudent policy,  
Did stoop to love, surprised with deep delight,  
Of one, a wench bred up vnciuill●y:  
And many more, as fierce as he in field,  
Cupid forced with tender bow to yield.   

And not alone this Archer master's man,  
But by this power, doth pierce the golden skies,  
And there subdues the greatest now and than:  
Such subtle drifts the Godhead doth devise.  
As when that jove lodde Leda, like a Swan,  
And pricked his plumes to please his Lady's eyes:  
Another time became a milk white Bull,  
And all to steal away a country Erull.   

Who hath not heard how Phoebus Da●hne loved?  
Bow mighty Mary was bound in Vulcan's chain?  
And eke how jove his greatest cunning proud,  
When be became a galden shower of rain.  
Endymion he was passingly beloved  
Of Phebe, who with him had often lain:  
On Latinus hill, the ghastly God of hell,  
Pluto himself, did like Prolerpine well.   

May Neptune boast or vaunt above the rest?  
Did he not love as other Gods have done?  
Hath Cupid never razed his rocky breast?  
Can he for all his waves dame Venus shun?  
No, he hath been, by pangs of love oppressed,  
The water nymphs his godhead oft have won,  
No storm could stint, nor frozen flood remove,  
Nor water waste his flames of burning love.   

To banish him no wile, or wit avails,  
No heart so hard, but melts as doth the wax,  
To cure his wound all learned Physic fails,  
It burns the breast, as fire consumes the flax:  
The fort of force must yield when love assails:  
Each rebel's mind with linger siege he sacks.  
No tower so high no castle half so strong.  
But love at last will lay it quite along.   

And look who once is tangled in his net,  
And bears his badge fast fixed in his breast,  
By no devise or guile away may get,  
But forth he must, and march among the rest.  
By nature so the law of love is set,  
As none hath will or power from him to wrest,  
No grief so great, no toil or trouble such,  
That faithful lovers think to be too much.   

No counsel given by friend, no fear of foe,  
No ruler's rod, no dread of threatening law,  
No wrack of wealth, nor mischief that may grow,  
Can cause the wight that loves, to stand in awe:  
As flatly doth this former story show:  
Where you a wench so deep in fancy saw  
As nought save death might bring her woes to end,  
When she had lost her faithful loving friend.   

Wherefore this wrong was great they did this maid:  
The brothers were a little not too blame,  
That would the weneh from fixed fancy stayed:  
And thought by force to quench her kin●●ed flame.  
loves heat is such, it scorns to be delayed.  
With greater ease you may a Tiger tame,  
Than win a wight whose liking once is set,  
Either to forego a friend, or to forget.   
Amor vine● ogni cosa.    


The Argument to the eight History.  

WHen Aristotimus did strike the stroke,  
In Elyesus, and did wield the Mace  
As King alone, so heavy was his yoke,  
That subjects thought themselves in woeful case:  
For greedy gusts that gaped for guiltless blood,  
Were best esteemed, and most in favour stood.  
Each villain vile that vaunted of his vice,  
Each loathsome lecher longing for his lust,  
Was mounted up, and held in highest price,  
Sin sat at bench, extortion counted just,  
The best might bear no palm whilst he did rain,  
He banished some, & some with sword were slain.  
Till Gods at last detesting murders done  
jucenst the hearts of sundry noble wights,  
For due revenge, unto his realm to ron,  
where matched with such, as were his household knights  
With one consent this bloody beast they slew,  
Amid the Church for Gods themselves to view.  
The woeful Queen, the murdering monster wife,  
By fame assured of doleful husband's death,  
To flee the force, bereft herself of life,  
Envying that her foes should stop her breath:  
Two Ladies eke, the daughters of the king  
Had leave to die, who hung themselves in string,    


WHat time the proud and puissant Prince  
Antigonus, in hand  
The Macedonian Sceptre held  
And governed all the land:  
There lived one Aristotimus,  
A beast of bloody kind,  
That all to monstrous murder did  
Employ his Tigers mind.  
Who, when by favour and by force  
Of Antigon the King,  
The state of Elyesus to  
His yoke and beck did bring:  
Full tyrantlike he struck the stroke  
And having got the crown,  
Gave up himself to loathsome lust,  
And brought the subjects down,  
That erst in freedom long had lived.  
So mighty was his reign,  
As to resist his cruel parts  
Men thought it all in vain:  
What foul abuse was then unwrought?  
What rigour left untried?  
What wicked pranks & pageants played  
whilst he the realm did guide?  
His cankered nature all inclined  
To slaughter and to blood,  
To kill the poor, and guiltless souls,  
It did this monster good:  
And to this murdering mind of his,  
He joined the vile advise,  
Of barbarous people, that to blood  
This tyrant did entice:  
The beastliest men that living were  
Alone he did not place  
In office, to control the rest,  
(Which was a cursed case:  
That such uncivil brutish beasts  
Should rule a Prince's land)  
But chose them for his persons guard,  
To have them near at hand.  
Of all the vile unkindly parts  
That he alive did play,  
I note but one above the rest,  
Wherein I mind to stay,  
To set this viper out to view●  
That all the world may see  
What plagues in store for cruel Kings  
By Gods reserved be:  
Who though to drink in golden cup,  
And feast with dainty fare,  
And for a time abound in bliss,  
Yet end their lives in care.  
And steed of former sugared sops,  
They swallow bitter gall,  
And from the top of kingly throne  
Abide the shameful fall.  
There dwelled within this tyrant's realm  
A Citizen of fame,  
A man of wealth and great estate,  
Phylodimus by name:  
Who father was unto a wench  
For feature that did pass,  
An A pierce, among the rest,  
And nurtured well she was.  
Fair Micca was this maiden's name,  
Whose beauty did excel.  
This Tyrant had a Soldier, who  
Did like the virgin well,  
One Luzio, a roisting Rogue  
In favour with the king,  
That to the end he might the maid  
Unto his bias bring,  
A messenger dispatched unto  
The father, strait to will  
Him yield his daughter to his hands,  
His pleasure to fulfil.  
He let him understand his lust,  
The father seeing such  
A foul demand, and shameful suit,  
Was vexed very much,  
And gripped with anguish of the mind:  
But having weighed the case,  
And knowing that this ruffian stood  
So in the prince's grace:  
And highly was esteemed of him:  
Be gone to be afraid,  
And thereupon his wife and he  
Thought good to send the maid:  
Whom they persuaded as they might,  
For safety of her life.  
To yield the Soldier up the fort,  
Withouten farther strife.  
But she (good heart) that less esteemed  
Her life, than spotless name,  
Well nurtured up from tender youth,  
And aye, in fear of shame,  
Fell prostrate at her father's foot,  
Upon her fainting knees,  
Embracing him with bitter tears,  
The suits she made were these:  
That he would never see her spoiled  
Of such a varlet vile,  
Nor let a cutthroat soldier so  
His daughter to defile:  
But rather let her die the death  
With father's willing knife:  
Than yield her up to Luzios lust,  
To lead a strumpet's life.  
She was content with any lot,  
So she might scape his hands.  
Whilst hearing thus his daughter's plaints  
The woeful father stands:  
And with the mother wails the hap,  
And pities of the maid,  
Not knowing what to do therein:  
The Lecher that had staid  
And looked for Miccas coming long,  
Impatient of his flame  
And beastly heat, to fet the wench  
Himself in person came:  
Puffed up with deep distain and wrath,  
And fiild with envious ire,  
That she did linger there so long,  
Whom he did so desire.  
Who being come unto the house  
Where did this damsel dwell,  
And seeing her at father's foot:  
For rage began to swell,  
And much misliking her delay,  
With fierce and frowning face,  
Controlled the wench, and bid her rise  
And follow him a pace:  
And must I Damsel come (quoth he)  
Mought message not suffice?  
Do way delays, leave of those tears,  
And wipe your wantoness eyes:  
Dipatch and come along with me,  
Do linger on no more.  
Whereat the wench renewed her plaints,  
As she had done before:  
And made no haste at all to rise,  
But sat upon her knees:  
Which Luzio seeing, all in rage  
Unto the maiden flées,  
And strips her naked as his nail,  
And beat her round about,  
A thousand stripes he gave the girl,  
That had not on a clout  
To save the burden of a blow  
From off her tender corpse.  
But sh●ée continde on her mind  
For all the villain's force,  
Not weighing all his blows a bean,  
A maid of manly heart:  
For though the beast had beat her sore  
She made no show of smart:  
Nor yielded any sighing sobs,  
In proof of inward pain,  
But valiantly abid the scourge,  
And ready was again  
To do the like, more rather than  
To yield to such a slave,  
Or make him owner of the hold  
Which he did long to have:  
The woeful parents viewing this  
With grief, and dewed eyes,  
Were greatly tho to pity moved,  
And out they made their cries:  
With suit of Luzio, there to leave,  
And beat the maid no more.  
But when they saw they nought prevailed,  
Their aged locks they core,  
And out on God and man they call,  
Their daughter void of blame  
To secure, being sore distressed,  
Even then at point of shame.  
Which suit, and yelling cry of theirs  
Did make the monster mad:  
And set him farther in a rage,  
That erst so plagued had  
The maiden Micca void of gilt.  
With that he draws his knife.  
And in the aged father's sight  
Bereaves the wench of life.  
Out gushed apace the purple blood  
From Miccas' tender limbs,  
In such abundance, as about  
The place the maiden swims:  
A perfect proof that all the zeal  
Which Luzio bore the wench,  
Did only grow of Lecher's lust,  
Whom wrath so soon could quench.  
For had he grounded lust on love,  
Or fanside Micca well,  
He would not so have slain a maid,  
Whose beauty did excel.  
Farewell to thee Diana's Nymph,  
Thy virtue was so great,  
As well thou didst among the gods  
Deserve to have a seat.  
For Lucrece could have done no more,  
Than yield herself to die,  
And in defence of spotless fame  
A tyrant's hand to try.  
What kingly heart, what princely breast?  
Nay more, what manly mind  
Can see, or suffer such a fact,  
Against the laws of kind?  
Would any man of woman's milk,  
Endure so foul a deed,  
Not yielding him that played the part,  
A gibbot for his meed:  
And yet this butchers bloody rage,  
This tyrant could not move  
To hate him ought the more, but eke  
The good that did reprove  
The filthy villain for his vice,  
The Prince did make away.  
For some of them with cruel sword  
He out of hand did slay,  
And other some he forced abroad  
As banished men to roam  
Eight hundredth at the least, into  
Aeolia fled from home,  
For succours sake, to save their lives,  
And scape his hateful hand,  
Who only sought the spoil of such  
As dwelled within his land:  
Where having certain months remained  
These exile wights did write  
In humble wise, by lowly suit  
That they such favour might  
Obtain from Aristotimus,  
As to enjoy their wives  
And silly babes, the only staff  
And stay of all their lives.  
But nought their letters moght avail,  
He would not condescend  
In any case, the Matrons to  
The banished men to send:  
In hope by that to force them home  
And so to wreak his spite  
Upon those wise forecasting wights  
That saved themselves by flight.  
But yet he caused a trump in fine  
To sound in market place,  
To show that he was well content,  
And that it pleased his grace,  
That wives should seek their husbands out:  
And gave them leave beside,  
With bag, and baggage, babes and all,  
Without restraint to ride,  
He licensed them, to journey thence,  
And part the city quite,  
Which tidings made the Matrons glad,  
The news did breed delight:  
The packts & farthels than were made,  
The wagons were purveyed,  
Both cart and horses ready were,  
And women well apaid,  
That to their husbands they should pass  
When pointed day drew on,  
The streets were stuffed with carriage, wives  
Were ready to be gone:  
Their little babes and all were there.  
The porter only was  
The cause of stay, without whose leave  
There might no carriage pass.  
Whilst they at gate thus waiting were  
A far they might espy  
A troop of sweeting Soldiers run,  
That made a cruel cry:  
And willed the women there to stop,  
And thence again to go  
Into the city whence they came,  
The Prince's will was so:  
Those hewsters drove the horses back,  
The streets were somewhat strait,  
Which made the press exceeding great,  
The jades were fully freight  
With heavy burdens on their backs,  
Which so annoyed the way,  
As women might not well retire,  
Nor there in safety stay.  
But, by the mean of horse and men  
Such hurly-burly grew,  
That there the jades from off their backs  
The little infants threw.  
The woeful sight that ever man  
Of honest heart might see,  
Such silly souls in such a throng  
Of carts and colts to be:  
Who could not help themselves a whit  
Nor have the mother's aid,  
For they (good matrons) by this chance  
Were very much dismayed.  
For as their glee was great before,  
And joyful eke the news,  
To part the town: so this arrest  
Did make them greatly muse.  
There might you see some babes brains  
About the channel lie,  
Some broken legs, some bruised arms,  
And some with fear did cry.  
Were few but felt some part of pains,  
In such a reckless throng:  
And she, that scaped best away,  
Was crushed, and curstly wrong.  
When the Soldiers reckoned had  
And taken full account  
Or wives, and babes, & knew the sum  
Whereto the whole did mount:  
Unto the Palace ward they drove  
Then like a flock of sheep,  
Which hired shepherds on the hills  
For meat and wagies keep.  
And beat the silly souls a good,  
That seemed to slack the way,  
Who, what for fear and faintness would  
Bene very glad to stay.  
When to the tyrant's court they came,  
The monster by and by  
Bereft the matrons all their robes,  
Both wives and babes to lie  
In prison eke be gave the charge:  
Thus were they foul beguiled,  
Who thought (good dames) to seek their men,  
From Country bounds exiled.  
Here will I leave with heavy hearts,  
The wives their woes to wail,  
Who hoping to departed the town  
Were closely kept in guile,  
And to the towns men will return.  
Who, when they saw the rage  
Their Prince was in, and witted not how  
His rancour to assuage,  
Amongst themselves devised at last  
One practise to approve,  
Whereby perhas they might have hap  
The tyrant's heart to move.  
They had within the city walls  
A sort of sacred dames  
Whom sin they thought it to abuse,  
I wot not well their names:  
Of Denys order all they were,  
Sixteen, or there about.  
The Citizens did deem it good  
The Nuns to furnish out  
With robes and relics of the church:  
Tnd in their hands to bear  
Their painted Gods, procession wise,  
'tis was the custom there:  
Well hoping by this subtle slight  
To move the Prince his heart,  
Who though did murder men, they hoped  
Yet had not laid apart  
All fear and dread of sacred saints,  
(As it fell out in deed)  
For when that every virgin had  
Put on her holy weed,  
Alongst the town they 'gan to go,  
In very grave array,  
With humble suit to stir the Prince  
To pity those that lay  
In prison, mothers with their bakes,  
Which was a woeful case.  
As then, by chance the Tyrant was  
Amid the market place.  
The Soldiers seeing dames devout  
So decked with temple stuff,  
For reverence of their order, did  
Begin to stand aloof,  
And gave them leave to press unto  
The Tyrant, where he was:  
Who having licence, through the midst  
Of all the guard did pass:  
And being somewhat near the prince,  
The king began to stay,  
To know, both when the women came,  
And what they had to say.  
They told their tale, & moved the suit,  
And opened their intent:  
Which when the Tyrant understood,  
Perceiving what they meant:  
Unto his train he made a turn,  
With grim and ghastly cheer,  
Controlling them, that did permit  
The Nuns to come so near.  
I lay the Tyrant's taunts aside,  
I purpose not to put  
His kingly chafe within my verse:  
But soldiers combs were cut.  
With that the guard began to grudge,  
And for the check they had,  
With Holbards, which they held in hand,  
They laid about like mad,  
And bitterly did beat the dames,  
With many a clubbish blow,  
Respect of relics laid aside,  
The Soldiers raged so.  
Thus did they use the sacred Nymphs  
That were to Denyse vowed:  
And to increase their griefs the more,  
Each virgin eke allowed  
Two talents for a recompense,  
Besides their hurts received:  
Thus of their purpose, both the dames,  
And City was deceyude.  
At self same time, there living was  
A man of great renown,  
When this outrage was put in ure,  
And dwelled within the town:  
Ellanycus this noble height,  
Then stricken well in age,  
Whose sons though Aristotimus  
Had murdered in his rage:  
Yet did mistrust him nought at all  
Because he was so old,  
Was thought unable ought to do.  
Which made the tyrant bold.  
This aged father weighing well  
His sons and countries spoil,  
Determined with himself to put  
The tyrant to the foil,  
And take revenge of blood, by blood,  
Of death, by murder done.  
Lo here I leave the Prince a while  
His headlong race to run.  
I must again convert my tale  
Unto those banished wights,  
Whom sore it yrkt so long to lack  
Their wives and sweet delights.  
For country love by kind doth work  
In every honest breast,  
And till we make return again  
We never live at rest  
It was not long (I say) ere they,  
That to Aolia were  
By Aristotimus exiled,  
And forced to tarry there,  
With joint consent of many more,  
took arms against the king:  
To bid him battle out of hand  
Their Soldiers they did bring  
Within the tyrant's country bounds,  
And did possess the land  
That bordered on the city which  
This monster held in hand.  
There making stout and strong defence  
Against the Prince's power,  
From whence they might with ease assail,  
And eke the foe devour.  
And to increase their might the more,  
All such as fled for fear  
From Elyesus, joined their bands,  
And were united there:  
So that the whole assembled rout,  
Unto an army grew:  
So many were those banished men  
That from their country flew.  
Wherewith the Tyrant 'gan to quake,  
And tremble very much,  
For why? this battle that did grow,  
His state did greatly touch.  
The hammers beat within his brains,  
As on a smiths forge,  
He witted not how to void the foe,  
Or troubles to disgorge,  
That on his back were like to light:  
At length he thus bethought,  
That having all their wives and babes  
Who all the mischief wrought,  
In prison closely under key,  
He hoped he mought with ease,  
devise a mean the malice of  
His enemies to appease,  
Not by entreaty, but by force:  
For so his cankered mind  
Was bend to rigour: as of course  
It is the Cyrants' kind.  
Wherefore upon a day he went  
Unto the prison, where  
The silly captive Ladies lay,  
With countenance full of fear,  
With glowing eyes, withbended brows  
And angry Lions look,  
Commanding those whose husbands erst  
Their native soil forsook,  
To write their letters out of hand,  
And speed a post away  
With earnest suit unto the men  
From farther force to stay,  
And do their wrathful weapons down:  
Thus wild he them to write.  
This was the sum that he would have  
Those women to indite.  
Which of you do refuse (quoth he)  
To complish by and by,  
Be sure those elvish brats of yours  
And puling babes shall die:  
And more than that, you (mothers) you  
Shall not be clear exempt  
Of torment, but the duly scurgde  
For penance of contempt.  
The women answered not a word,  
Which chafed the tyrant sore:  
Who being thus to choler moved,  
Bid them delay no more,  
Nor trifle, but resolve upon  
The matter out of hand,  
If not, they should his princely power  
And pleasure understand.  
The Ladies doubtful what to say,  
Upon each other gazed,  
As who would say, they feared not,  
But somowhat were amazed.  
There was by chance amongst the rest,  
One wife, a worthy dame  
Temoliont her husband hight,  
Megesten was her name,  
Who for the honour of her spouse,  
A man of good descent,  
And her good virtues, far before  
Those other matrons went:  
One whom the rest did reverence much  
And honour for her wit:  
This Lady whilst the tyrant talked,  
With sober grace did sit,  
And never modde herself a whit,  
But caused the others eke  
To do the like: who when the Prince  
Had done his tale, 'gan speak,  
Not honouring the king at all,  
And thus the Lady sed.  
O Aristo timus, hadst thou  
Had judgement in thy head,  
Or any wisdom in thy breast,  
Thou wouldst not thus entice  
Or go about to make us write  
Our letters of advice  
Unto our husbands, teaching them  
How they should do and deal,  
In case concerning good estate  
Of this our common weal.  
far fit had it been for thee  
Us matrons to have sent  
In message, using better terms  
To further thine intent,  
And better order in thy deeds  
Tha● thou hast done of late:  
I mean the time, when we were staid  
Even at the castle gate  
At point to issue out of town.  
Thou mockdst us there in deed,  
Full greatly to thy taint and shame.  
But now that things precede  
Against thee as thou know'st no mean  
To scape the present doubt:  
If now (I say) by mean of us  
In speech thou go about  
Our husbands to beguile, as us  
In deeds thou hast before:  
I tell thee plain, thou art deceidde,  
Thou scanste without thy score.  
That they be not encrapt again,  
We women will beware:  
I would not wish thou shouldst surmise  
That we such Asses are  
Or sotted so, as seeking ways  
To aid and save ourselves  
From pain of prison, and to ease  
Our little apish elves,  
We would advise out husbands to  
Despise their country wealth,  
Whose freedom dearer ought to be  
Than any womas health.  
The less were light, though we decay,  
That babes and women be:  
And better were, our husbands should  
Us all in cofyn see  
Than they should unrevenged go,  
Or die, without the foil  
Of him, that seeks to murder men,  
And work his country spoil.  
This Lady would have further gone  
And told the process out,  
Save that the Tyrant grew in rage,  
And ghastly looked about,  
Unable longer to endure  
The force of furious rage:  
Go sirrah, go in post and fetch  
(Quoth he unto his page)  
This desperate dames unhappy babe:  
And ere I part this place,  
I will destroy and slay the some  
Before the mother's face.  
Whilst thus the Page in message sent  
Went seeking here and there  
Among the other boys: this dame  
(A Lady void of fear)  
Had spied anon her little imp:  
Come hither come (quoth she  
My pretty elf, yet rather I  
Myself will murder thee  
With friendly mothers forced hand,  
And reave thy limbs of life,  
Than ever with thy blood thou shalt  
Imbrewe a butcher's knife.  
Which speech of hers so spiteful was,  
And nip the King so nigh,  
As he in fury farther set,  
Did swear the dame should die.  
And therewithal set haud to sword  
To let the Lady blood,  
That ready there to brook his force  
Before his presence stood.  
And died doubtless there she had  
And caught a sudden clap  
To set her packing, save there was  
A friend of his by hap,  
One Cylo, whom he dearly loud,  
That held the Prince's arm,  
And was the cause, by ●ay thereof,  
The Lady had no harm.  
This Cylo he was one of them  
Who meant to flay the king  
With help of good Ellanycus:  
They had devised the thing  
Long erst betwixt themselves: for why?  
They could no longer bide  
This cruel monsters bloody hand,  
And stomach stuffed with pride.  
This sage appeased the Priuces wrath  
Who having thoroughly made  
A truce betwixt his rage and him,  
And caused him sheath his blade:  
Persuaded that it ill became,  
And was a brutish thing,  
For him that was a noble peer,  
Yea such a puissant King,  
To bathe his blade in woman's blood:  
The conquest was unfit  
For such as in the like estate  
And royal room did sit,  
Within a while that this was done,  
A marvelous hap befell  
To Aristotimus, that did  
This tyrant's death foretell.  
For being with his Queen in bed  
In daliauce and delight,  
His servants, going to their meat,  
An Eagle saw in sight,  
That made unto the Pallacewarde,  
As fast as she mought fly:  
This ugly Eagle came am 〈◊〉,  
And soaring in the sky  
Just overgainst the very place,  
Somewhat beside the hall  
Where lay the Prince, from out her foot  
The foul a stone let fall,  
And presently upon the deed  
Away apace did fly  
Quite out of sight, and as she went  
She gave a cruel cry.  
Whereat the servants meruelld much  
And made so great a din,  
As therewithal the king awoke  
That had in slumber been.  
His servants told him what they saw,  
And how the race did stand,  
He all in post, upon report  
Sent horsemen out of hand,  
For one that was a deep divine,  
In whom he did affy  
To show the case, to hear his mind,  
And what was meant thereby.  
The Prophet made him answer thus:  
O puissant Prince, (quoth be)  
Disgorge thy care, abandon fear,  
Let nothing trouble thee.  
Pluck up thy manly heart: for jove  
Doth tender thine estate,  
And makes a specia●●re of thee,  
The Eagle that of late  
Thy servants saw, his herald is  
Whom he in message sent,  
To show thee, that the mighty God  
Is very greatly bend  
To aid thy force against thy foes,  
Who long with murdering knife,  
To spoil their country of their king  
And reave the Prince's life.  
But boldly this presume, that God  
Himself will stand with thee,  
'Gainst such as seek thy death, and who  
Thy mortal enemies be.  
The tale this cunning Calcar told,  
Did ease the tyrant's breast  
Of divers doubts, wherewith he was  
By Eagles mean oppressed.  
He sound slept, not doubting death,  
Nor fearing civil sword:  
But mark the end, and what it was  
To trust a Prophet's word.  
For hereupon the men that meant  
The murder of the king,  
(Ellanicus, and all his mates)  
Thought good to do the thing  
Which they pretended out of hand,  
Not making longer stay.  
And so among themselves eft soon  
Concluded, on the day  
That followed next to work the feat  
And bring their drift to pass,  
And that self night, Ellanicus,  
As he in slumber was,  
Dreamte, that the elder of his sons  
Whom erst the tyrant flew,  
Presented him before his face,  
With words that here ensue:  
Why sleep, & slug you (father dear)  
Why do you linger so?  
That you to morrow shall subdue  
Do you as yet not know?  
And reave this city from the king  
Who now enjoys the same?  
Depart your pillow (father mine)  
And baulk your bed for shame.  
Wherewith Ellanycus reliude,  
And hoping then in deed  
Of happy luck, in break of day  
Sought out his crew with speed.  
That were confedered in the fact:  
Persuading them to cast  
All dread apart, and flat to fall  
Unto their feat at last.  
And at the self same time the king,  
(As hapte) a vision had,  
That fed him with assured hope,  
And made him passing glad.  
This dream presented to his thought,  
That with a mighty train  
Craterus came, to take his part,  
Resistance was in vain.  
There was no cause why he should care  
But be of courage stout,  
For that Craterus had beset  
Olympia round about.  
This vision vain, of good success  
Did so assure the king,  
As in the dawning timely he  
Not dreading any thing  
Departs the Palace, void of awe,  
With whom there only went  
That C●lo, which was one of those  
That all this mischief meant.  
By one and one his other men,  
Did follow somewhat slack:  
Which when Ellanycus perceiude,  
How he his train did lack:  
The time it fitted finely then,  
The season seemed good,  
Unto this ancient foe of his,  
To let this tyrant blood,  
Without the giving any sign,  
For so devised he had  
With such as were his fellow friends:  
But being very glad,  
Up lifteth he his aged arms  
Unto the azured skies,  
And with the loudest voice he could,  
Unto his mates he cries:  
Why do you loiter, (valiant lads)  
And men of great renown,  
To do so worthy deed as this,  
Amid your noble town?  
Which word us sooner spoken was,  
But Cylo first of all  
Set hand to sword, and drew it out,  
And slew me therewithal,  
First one of those that issued with  
The tyrant him to guard.  
Who so should take a tyrant's part,  
Deserves the like reward.  
Then after that, when Cylo thus  
The matter had begun,  
Lampydio, and Trasybule  
With all their force did run  
Upon the monster, fully bend  
Him out of hand to slay,  
Who then began to trust his legs:  
For why? he ran his way,  
To scape the danger of his death,  
And to the temple fled  
Of jupiter the mighty God,  
In hope to save his head.  
But heathen gods mought nothing help  
His enemies were so hot,  
As him amid the sacred Church  
With shining sword they smote,  
And there bereft him of his life,  
That well deserved to die:  
And after dragged him bloody thence  
In open street to lie.  
There lay his loathsome carcase slain  
For every man to view,  
The people did rejoice at heart  
For freedom got anew.  
So glad were never hungry hounds  
Pursuing of the hare,  
To fasten on the fearful beast  
Each dog to have his share,  
As were the subjects eager than  
The tyrant to pursue,  
With hateful blood of such a beast  
Their weapons to embrew.  
Whilst thus the folks debating stood  
Of matter happed so late,  
Each wife began to gaze about,  
And pry to find her mate.  
For now the banished men were come  
Unto the town again.  
To tell the mirth at meeting the  
I think it were in vain.  
For as their care was common erst,  
Whilst he the realm did guide,  
So semblant was their joy no doubt,  
When such a monster died.  
This done, the people 'gan to press  
Unto their Pallaceward,  
But ere they came, how matters went,  
The quaking Queen had hard,  
And of the slaughter of her King,  
Full beavie news, God wots:  
Wherefore mistrusting what would hap,  
Eftsoon herself she got  
Into a privy counting house,  
Where to escape their force,  
About a beam she hting a sheet,  
And strangled so her corpse.  
A doleful case that any dame  
That was a Prince's wife,  
Should for her husband's sake, be forced  
To rid herself of life.  
But yet of both, more happy she,  
Than was her husband slain:  
For ventrously she put herself  
To death, not dreading pain,  
But he the captive, cowardlike  
To jove for succour ran,  
And took the temple, like a wretch,  
And died not like a man.  
But turn we to our tale again:  
The tyrant by this Queen  
Two daughters had, the fairest wights  
That lightly mought be seen,  
And ripe in years to match with men:  
Who having heard report  
How that their father murdered was  
In such a cruel sort:  
In mind to void the furious foes  
(As virgins full of fear)  
Conveyed themselves into a vault  
To stay in safety there.  
But they that sought, so many were,  
And pried so well about,  
As in the seller where they lay,  
They found the maidens out.  
Whom thence, without delay, they drew,  
And whet their eager knives,  
As fully bend 〈◊〉 men mought be,  
To reave the Lady's lives.  
But there by hap Megesten was,  
Of whom we spoke before,  
At whose entreaty, and the suit  
Of other matrons more,  
Those noble Nymphs were tho forborn,  
For thus Megesten said  
To such as sought to do the deed:  
In slaying of a maid  
You do the thing that Butcher's hearts  
Would never undertake,  
Good faith it were a shameful fact  
So vile a spoil to make,  
As file your sisters with virgin's blood,  
Against your manly kind:  
Let greedy lust to be avengde  
Not make your eyes so blind.  
But rather, if so be, there is  
No nay, but they must die,  
Give leave, at my request, that they  
Their proper strength may try.  
Let them make choice upon their death  
And scape your handy force.  
Whereto they all agreed in one,  
But no man took remoise.  
It irckt them that the tyrant's blood  
Shouldst rest so long unshed:  
There were appointed for the noue●  
That both the Ladies led  
Into an tuner lodging, where  
When they arrived were,  
The eldest sister like a Dame  
Undaunted, void of fear,  
From off her waste did lose the scar●e  
That gird her loins about,  
And bid her younger sister do  
The like with courage stout.  
Then to a rester of the house,  
Their girdles both were tide,  
The knots and all were fitly made  
To cause the silk to slide.  
Who so had viewed those virgins than  
He would have thought, that they  
had not intended by and by  
Such break neck game to play.  
Their faces were so fresh to fight,  
Their eyes did never stare,  
Their tongues pronounced their tales as though  
Their hearts had felt no care,  
Their outward gesture showed a joy,  
Moore rather than distress:  
When thus (I say) the knots were knit,  
To do the feat, the less  
Of both the Ladies took the elder  
Sister by the hand,  
Requesting her, that she as then  
So much her friend would stand,  
As first to let her die the death,  
And play her part before:  
To whom the elder answered thus.  
As never heretofore  
I have denied thee (Sister) aught  
In all my life: So now  
Even at my death I am content  
Unto thy will to bow.  
Thou shalt have leave to let me live  
Till thou be dead and gone:  
But that which grieves me most of all,  
And gives me cause of moan,  
Is, that I live to see thy death  
before my loss of life:  
The younger Lady thereupon  
Without a farther strife  
Conveyed her head into the scarf:  
The other standing there,  
Gave counsel so to place the knot  
Just underneath the ear,  
As lightly she might lose her breath,  
And rid herself of pain:  
The younger followed her advise,  
An easy death to gain.  
A woeful thing for me to write,  
And loathsome eke to you  
(Dear Ladies) who to pass their time  
Shall hap my book to view:  
To think that two such virgins, borne  
And bred in Princely bliss,  
Should be enforced in fine, to make  
So hard a choice as this.  
But (as the ancient Proverb goes)  
Perforce obeys no law:  
The crabbed carters whip will cause  
A stately steed to draw.  
The younger sister thus bereft  
Of life, the elder came  
And cut the girdle of the beam  
To hide her sister's shame,  
As well as she (good Lady) might.  
Then was her part to play:  
Who putting on that other scarf  
About her neck, 'gan say  
Unto Megesten: noble Dame,  
When thou shalt see me ded:  
For honour's sake unto thy kind  
See thou my carcase led  
In place that is for maidens meet,  
Let not my body lie  
despoilded of robes, to naked show  
And view of every eye.  
And with her saying, down she slipped,  
And by her body's pease,  
(Though light it were) did stop her pipes,  
And so she died with case.    

The lenvoy.  

THose realms right happy are, where princes range,  
That measure out by virtue all their deeds,  
Abhorring with their vassals blood to stain  
Their sacred hands, and gore their kingly weeds:  
The subjects there with willing hearts obey,  
And Peers be safe from fall and foul decay.   

But (out alas) where awful Tyrants hold  
In haughty crucil hands the royal power,  
And mischief runs by office uncontrolled,  
There aye the great the lesser sort devour:  
By daily proote each one may daily see,  
That such as rulers are, such subjects be,   

Unless the law forbidden the lewd to sin,  
Unless the Prince by rigour vices quell,  
Disorders will by sufferance soon rush in:  
Who strives not then in mischief to excel?  
By nature man unto the worst is bend  
If wholesome statutes stay not his intent.   

A angry wight is hardly hard from food,  
The kindled straw is seldom when put out,  
A Cyrant that hath tasted once of blood,  
With much ado forbears the silly rout:  
So sweet is sin, as once from virtue fall,  
And thou art lightly lost for good and all,   

No looking back, no bending foot about,  
No fear of fall for many a mischiefs past,  
No ill revockt, no dread of any doubt,  
Till God by heaps power down his plagues at last:  
As by this verse is planily set to view,  
No matter tainde, but ancient story true.   

Who would by might have maintained juzios lust,  
That ●ewe the child before the father's face?  
Wha● King would wink at matter so unjust?  
Or favour muffian in so foul a case?  
The fact was vile, and dreadful vengeance dew  
Unto a Prince, that such disorder knew.   

To bolster vice, in others is a blame,  
For such as may by power suppress the deed:  
But crowned kings incur the greatest shame  
When they themselves on subjects flesh do feed:  
For Lions take no pleasure in the blood  
Of any beast unless they be withstood.   

And when such states so foully do offend,  
Not they alone do bide the bitter scourge,  
But subjects are for rulers vices shend:  
Is when the Sea doth yield to great a surge,  
The lesser brooks do swell above their bounds,  
And overflow like floods, the lower grounds.   

Lyacon lewd, that fed on stranger's blood,  
Although himself were he that God forgot,  
Yet causer was that love with sudden blood  
drowned all the world, save 〈◊〉 and her mate:  
Thus one ill year may work ten thousands woe,  
God hates ill kings, and doth detest them so.   

As here we see this ugly Tyrant's wife,  
And guiltless brood that never did offend,  
Raunsomde the father's faults by loss of life,  
And he himself was brought to wretched end:  
Wherefore let Peers and states uprightly stand,  
Lest they and theirs be touched by Gods own hand.   

For he that guides the golden globe aloft,  
Bekoldes from high, and marks the deeds of man,  
And hath revenge for every wicked thought,  
Though he forbear through mercy now and than:  
He suffereth long, but sharply pays at last,  
If we correct not our misdoings past.   

He spares no more the Monarch, than the Page,  
No more the Reysars than the country Clowns,  
He favours not the auncieut for their age,  
He cuts off Kings, for all their costly Crowns,  
No royal robes, no sceptre, no device,  
Can ransom those that favour filthy vice.     


The Argument to the ninth History.  

SY●●ona lilet of Pasquine passing well,  
And he did fry as fast with equal flame,  
In sort, as on a time these lovers fell  
To make a match, of purpose for the same:  
With one co●●ent where time and place was set,  
This loving couple in a garden met.  
There 〈◊〉 to other uttered their devise,  
To salve the sores that fancy fixed in breast,  
They kissed, they ●ol●d, thus neither part was nice,  
To take the time of both was counted best:  
Amid their glee, was pasquin's hap to spy  
A bed of sage, that there was growing by.  
Whereof he plucked a leaf to rub his jaws,  
And presently fell dead upon the deed:  
The wech exclamde, whose sudden cry did cause  
The neighbours by to come away with speed:  
The man was found there senseless as he lay,  
And she (bo●●● wench) as captive borne away.  
The 〈…〉, the jury was in place,  
The 〈…〉 for trial of the truth,  
The judge was there: who hearing all the case,  
And having of the  maiden ruth,  
For ●itie paused, and to the garden went,  
To learn the troth, and scan of her intent.  
Symona strait unto the border ran,  
Where grew the Sage, & plucked a leaf or twain,  
And therewithal to frote her gums began,  
As one that would been quit of murder feign:  
Lo thus (quoth she) my Lord, did he before,  
And thus was all, I saw him do no more.  
And with the word before the judge his face,  
The guiltless maid fell groveling on the ground  
And there she died before them all in place,  
And then the cause of both their banes was found  
The tale ensues, which more at large doth tell,  
Both of their loves, and how their deaths befell.    


THe fame of Florence is so great,  
That simple men do know  
The brute thereof by true report:  
Where dwelled not long ago,  
A virgin fresh and fair to view,  
A jolly lusty dame,  
As any was in all the town,  
Symona was her name.  
Whose beauty though were very brave  
And kende had done as much  
For her, as she mought well request,  
Yet for tune seemed tolgrutche  
And malice at her featured shape:  
For as the same did pass,  
Even so her father of the mean,  
And basest order was.  
A man not having wealth at will,  
The stately mistress chance,  
Would not vouchsafe from low estate  
This miser to advance.  
And hereupon the father's want,  
With whom it went so hard,  
Of force constrained the maid to get  
Her living by the card  
And wheel, and other like device,  
As silly maidens use,  
With handy work she won her bread,  
She could none other choose,  
Who though to earn her meat & drink  
In spinning spent the day:  
Yet in this beggars breast of hers,  
A Lordlike heart there lay,  
That durst adventure to assay  
The force of Cupid's flame:  
For by the gestures and the talk  
Of one that daily came  
Unto the house where she abode,  
A passing pleasant lad,  
One of her own estate, for wealth,  
That of his mistress had  
Both wool and yarn to spin and twist:  
The wench Symona fell  
In fancy with this merry Greek,  
And lykt the weaver well.  
The virgin by his sweet regards  
Was entered very far,  
And mashed within the net of love:  
But yet she did not dare  
To further on that first attempt,  
She fried with secret fire,  
Of Pasquine (thus the youth was termed)  
Whom she did so desire.  
But ever as she twisted had  
A thread upon the wheel,  
A thousand scalding sighs she fet:  
The silly wench did feel  
Them hotter far than any flame  
Thus issuing from her breast:  
And ever as she went about,  
She thought upon the guest  
That brought the wool, to have it wrought,  
The spinning bred the spite,  
The threads did make her mind the man,  
When be was out of fight.  
And shall we deem the weaver, whom  
The maiden loud so well,  
Quite void of wanton huniors? no:  
For he to liking fell,  
And likewise eke as careful wox  
As was the loving trull,  
To see that thee did well dispatch  
And spin his mistress wool.  
(As though the making of the cloth  
All wholly did depend,  
And only of Symonas' thread)  
Which made him not to send,  
But often come himself, to see  
How she her wheel applied:  
He never used to go so oft  
To any place beside.  
And thus the one, by making means,  
The other by desire  
She had to be thus sued unto,  
It happed, he felt a fire  
Unwonted, flaming in his breast:  
And she had shifted fear  
And shame aside, which still before  
Her chiefest jewels were.  
And hereupon they jointly fell  
Each other well to leek,  
Both parties did so well agree,  
Small need it was to seek  
Which of them both should first assail,  
Each fancyde other so,  
As by each others face, each friend,  
Each others heart did know.  
And thus from day to day it grew,  
And still enkindled more,  
The flaming love which she to him,  
And he Symona bore.  
Until at length this Pasquine prayed  
The maiden earnestly,  
To work such way and means to come  
Unto a garden by,  
Where he would tarry her in place  
Until such time she came,  
For that the garden was a plot  
Convenient for the same,  
And merely void of all suspect:  
There might they talk their fill.  
Symona, like a gentle wench,  
Did grant him her good will.  
One holiday at after noon,  
Her father to deceive,  
Symona came with solemn suit,  
Requesting him of leave  
To go unto saint Gallus Church,  
To fetch a pardon there.  
The silly aged sire agreed,  
Whose eye the maid did blear:  
For hereupon, another wench  
Lagina called, and she  
Unto the garden went, where they  
Had pointed him to be.  
But Pasquine ere they came, was there,  
And brought with him a mate,  
Called Stramba (Puccio was his name:)  
This Stramba he should prate  
And with Lagina chat of love,  
The match was pointed thus:  
And whilst these two gross lovers did  
Their matters so discesse,  
Unto the farther end of all  
The garden, Pasquine went,  
And with Symona there conferred  
As touching his intent.  
Hear leave I (Ladies) both the talk  
Which Stramba did devise  
Unto his late acquainted lass,  
Presume his tale was wise,  
For as Cupid whets the tongue  
So doth he sharp the brain  
Of those that love, and earnest are  
Their Ladies to attain.  
And though perhaps this fellow were  
Not come of gentle kind,  
Yet being matched with on he liked,  
Perhaps could tell his mind.  
For fancy makes the foolish wise,  
And compass in his head,  
By what device he may achieve  
His liked Lady's bed.  
To Pasquine turn we now again,  
Who (as I said) of late  
Was stepped aside, of purpose with  
His minion to debate.  
There was, where he did sit, by chance  
Conferring of the case,  
A goodly bordered bed of sage,  
Even full beside the place,  
Where as this loving couple coped  
In secret sport and play:  
Who having long with merry talk  
Consumed the time away,  
And made appointment eke to meet  
Another day again,  
To banquet with Symona there  
To feel a farther vain.  
This Pasquine to the sage resorts,  
Whereof a leaf he strips  
To rub his teeth and gums withal,  
He put it twixt his lips,  
And so began to touch his teeth,  
And therewith all did say  
That Sage was very good to fret  
The filthy flesh away  
That stuck betwixt his hollow teeth.  
Within a while that he  
Had practised thus upon his gums,  
His countenance 'gan to be  
Quite altered from the former form,  
And after that a space  
That thus his visage swollen was  
Unto an ugly face,  
He lost the use of both his eyes,  
And of his speech beside:  
And so at length in sudden sort  
This loving weaver died.  
Which when Symona had beheld,  
She watered strait her eyes,  
And (out alas) to Stramba, and  
Lagina loud she cries.  
The lovers left the deep discourse,  
And to the place they run,  
Where as so late this chance befell,  
And deadly deed was done.  
Arriving there, and finding dead  
The weaver in the grass,  
And more than this, perceiving how  
His body swollen was:  
And seeing all his face bespaugde  
With spots as black as coal,  
And that in all the body was  
Not any member wheel:  
Then Stramba cried out aloud,  
Oh vile unthrifty wench,  
what hast thou done? why hast thou given  
Thy friend a poisoned drench?  
What meanest thou by this deed of thine?  
Which words were spoke so high,  
That all the neighbours heard the same  
That were the dwellers by.  
And in they pressed all in haste,  
Into the garden, where  
The shout was made, and being come  
They found the body there  
Both void of life, and foully swol'n,  
An valy sight to see.  
And finding Stramba shedding tears,  
And blaming her to be  
The only cause of pasquin's death:  
The wench unable eke  
For very grief of heart, a word  
In her defence to speak:  
Though she in deed were not the cause  
Yet they that came to view  
Did apprehend the girl, and thought  
That Strambas words were true.  
When thus the wench arrested was,  
She wrong, and wept a pace:  
And so from thence, was brought before  
The common judge his face,  
Unto the palace where he dwelled.  
The maiden's accusers were  
exceeding earnest in the case,  
Both Stramba that was there  
With Pasquine as his faithful friend,  
And other more beside,  
That came into the garden, when  
The faithful virgin cried.  
And hereupon the justice fell  
To question of the fact,  
Debating with the witnesses,  
Who having throughlie racked  
The matter, and not finding her  
As giltte of the deed,  
Nor any proof of malice that  
Might from the maid proceed,  
As touching murder of the man:  
He thought it good to stay  
His judgement, and himself to go  
Where dead the carcase lay,  
To view the party, and the place,  
To beace the matter out:  
For all the other evidence  
Might not remove the doubt  
Within his head the judge conceived  
In this so strange a case.  
The men that knew the garden, brought  
The justice to the place  
Where pasquin's carcase puffed lay,  
And strutting in such wise,  
As made the judge himself am azde,  
He could not well devise  
How such a mischief might be done.  
Which made him ask the maid  
Symona, how the murder happed.  
To whom the virgin said,  
Renowned justice, after talk  
Betwixt this man and me,  
He stepped aside unto the bed  
Of Sage that here you see:  
And with a leaf thereof he rubbed  
His gums: as I do now,  
(And therewithal she took a leaf  
To show the justice how  
Her friend had done and this (quoth she)  
He did, and died than.  
Whereat this Stramba, and the rest  
That records were, began  
To scorn and laugh in presence of  
The judge, and earnestly  
Made suit that fire might be fet,  
Wherein the wench to try,  
To feel the penance of her fact,  
Which like a wicked wretch  
She had devised: she earned death  
That would her friend dispatch.  
The virgin woeful for the death  
Of him that lately died,  
And fearful at the earnest suit  
Which Stramba made beside:  
Thus having rubbed her tender jaws  
With Sage before them all,  
Without suspect of such mishap,  
Bereft of life, did fall  
Unto the ground, where Pasquine lay,  
And in like sort did swell,  
From lovely looks, to loathsome limbs  
A monstrous chance to tell.  
And thus to show the mean, how erst  
Her lover lost his breath,  
This silly guiltless wench herself  
Even there did die the death.  
O happy souls, whose hap it was  
In one ielfe day to lave  
So faithfully, and in self day  
The pangs of death to prove.  
And happter had you both ybin  
If you had had the grace,  
Some other where to spent the time,  
And not within that place.  
But far more blessed are ye now,  
If in this death of yours,  
You love each other as in life  
Your likings did endure.  
But (thou Symona) happiest art,  
For ending so thy days:  
If we that live may judge aright,  
And yield the dead their praise.  
Whose innocent and guiltless ghost  
Dame Fortune did deny  
By Strambas false surmised proofs  
Without just cause to die.  
I count thee triple blest of God,  
For Fortune found (I say)  
A mean for thee by self same death,  
That rid thy friend away.  
To set thee free from misreports,  
And slander that did grow,  
And gave thee leave by loss of life,  
Unto thy love to go.  
The judge that saw this sudden chance  
And all others eke  
That present were, amazed stood,  
And witted not what to speak  
Or to comecture in the case,  
The wisest tongues were domme.  
At last, the judge as soon as he  
Was to his senses come,  
Thus said: by this it doth appear  
The Sage that here you see,  
Infected is, and venom strong:  
Though Sage by nature be  
A very sovereign wholesome herb,  
The proof hath made it plain.  
But for because we will be sure  
It shall not hurt again,  
Do delve it up, and burn it here,  
It may offend no more.  
The Gardener therewithal was come,  
Who digged it up before  
The judge, and all the standers by:  
He had not pard the ground  
far in, but that the cause of both  
Those lovers banes he found.  
For underneath this bed of Sage,  
The fellow that did dig,  
Turned up a toad, a loathsome sight,  
A worm exceeding big.  
The toad was of a monstrous growth:  
Then every man could tell  
And judge the cause of that mishap  
Which both those friends befell.  
Then could they say, the venomed worm  
Had bealchd his poison out,  
And so infected both the root,  
And all the bed about  
Where grew the Sage, that bred their deaths:  
Then saw they plain the cause  
And reason why the weaver died,  
By rubbing of his laws.  
They made no more ado, but forced  
The gardener by and by  
To make a fire to burn the Sage,  
And eke the Toad to fry  
That was the cause of double spoil.  
The judge had nought to say  
When this was done, but parted home,  
The people went their way.  
Strait Stramba, and his other mates  
That gave in evidence  
Against Symona, brought a Bear,  
And bore the bodies thence  
So ugly swollen as they lay,  
Unto Saint Paul's, and there  
Within one Tomb did bury both,  
For of that Church they were.    

lenvoy.  

AS noble minds to love are kindly bend,  
And haughty hearts to fancy homage yield,  
As up●● makes the stoutest states relent,  
And martial men that daunt the foe in field:  
So meanest mates are mashed within the net,  
That wily love, to trap his train hath set.   

What Prince so proud, what King for all his crown:  
What sage so sad, or solemn in his saws,  
What wight sowise, but Cupid brings him down,  
And makes him stoop to nature and her laws?  
Both poor and rich do love by course of kind,  
The proof whereof in all degrees we find.   

That Hector stern that strove to maintain Troy,  
And slew with-sword full many a greekish knight,  
For all the warr●s, yet loud ●ndron●ene,  
With her he ●e●t, in her he took delight:  
His manly b●est that force of foe withstood,  
Was razed by love, his Courage did no good.   

Vlisses ●●ie, for all his wily wit,  
Was lodged in love, by Cyices sugared cup,  
●lato divine, whose stew the Stars did hit,  
With learnedlips of Venus' sauce did sup:  
His grave precepts stood him in slender stead,  
Whom law of kind, in link of fancy led.   

Fell D●onyse with Alexander great,  
Duke jason, ●ari●, ●ir●hus, Pompey take,  
And he whom Dydo did so well entreat,  
That to the curreous Queen his vow did break:  
Yea love himself, Apollo, Mar● and all,  
To Venus bowed, each one was Cupids thrall.   

The noblest Nymphs that ever were alive,  
The queyntest queens the force of fancy felt,  
The daintiest dames durst not with love to strive,  
The haughtiest hearts, had Cupid made to meet:  
Medea, Phillis, Helen, Phedra flerce,  
Crcu●a, Oevon, Lucrece love did pierce.   

Laodame, Hermyon Hypsiphill,  
Cursed Cliremnestra, Brisies, Deyanire,  
Semiramis, and Progne prone to kill,  
With Mirth● Biblis lust to love did stirrée  
And thousands more, of whom the poets tell,  
Provoked by love, to flaming fancy fell.   

Which sith is so. I may with better face  
A pardon crave of you that Ladies be,  
For dringing here a homely wenth in place,  
And ranking her with danies of gallant glee:  
Who sith did rage in fancy as the rest,  
Why should she not be placed among the best?   

Put case her birth was base, her lineage low,  
Herparynts poor, her livelihood bare and shin,  
Sith Cupid did his golden shaft bestow  
Upon her breast, when liking entered in,  
Let her receive the guerdon that is dew  
To faithful love, and march with Cupid's crew.   

Where leave is lowed for each one to contend,  
Where marks are made the cunningest hand to try,  
Without reproof each one his bow doth bend  
And arrows there without controlment she:  
Likewise sith love at rendon roves his darts,  
We ought not scorn the meanest loving hearts,   

When Croesus brings his gorgeous gifts in hand,  
And slay an ox to offer to the gods,  
A groom with goat by him may baldly stand,  
In holy Church they little count of odds:  
E●e mind is all that makes: or mars the thing,  
A Carter loves as hotly as a King.     


The Argument to the tenth History.  

Amerchants' son that Girolanus hight,  
Of tender age, in great good liking fell  
With one Saluestra, a damsel fair and bright,  
A tailors daughter, who there by did dwell:  
The aged father did, and left the boy  
Abounding wealth, his heir and only joy.  
The careful mother doubting lest her son  
Would make his choice, & marry with this maid  
Dispatched him thence to Paris, there to won,  
Until his heat and humour were delayed.  
To please his friends away this younker road,  
And there a space (unwilling) made abode.  
Retires in five to Florence back again,  
When mothers fear & doubts were laid aside,  
His ancient love aye sticking in his brain:  
But ere he came, the wench was wox a bride,  
Which greude him sore, he witted not how to deal  
At last devised into her house to steal.  
Where being placed, unwist of any wight,  
He stayed his time, till husband fell on sleep,  
Then out he gate, defenst with dark of night,  
And softly to Salvestra's bed did creep:  
He sighde, he sued, he pleaded there for life,  
In hope to had his pleasure of the wife.  
But all for nought, his wind did shake no come  
The woman's will was bend another way:  
Which when he found, as one that was forlorn  
He witted not how to do, nor what to say:  
His grief was such, as by Salvestra's side  
He laid him down, and there for sorrow died.  
The husband wakes, the wife bewrays the case,  
The corpse was straight conveyed away by night,  
When morrow came, the bear was brought in place,  
The grave was cast, the body lay in sight,  
The mother mourned, and many matrons more,  
bewail the chance of him that died so.  
Among the rest that present were to view  
This heavy hap, Saluestra stood as than,  
She saw her friend, whom she unkindly slew,  
And therewithal to rue his death began:  
So deeply sank remorse into this dame,  
As down she fell, and died upon the same.    

AS ancient men report, there dwelled  
A Merchant man of yore  
In Plorence, who by traffic had  
Increased his stock to more  
Than any of his race had done,  
A very wealthy wight:  
Who on his wife begat a son  
That (Girolamus) hight.  
And after time the babe was borne,  
The father chanced to die,  
But (as it bape) be made his will  
Before, and orderly  
Disposed his goods, as men are wont:  
The careful mother then,  
A widow left, with good a duise  
And apde of loarned men.  
The tutors of this merchant's son,  
Both used the infant well,  
And gave such eye unto his stock  
As nought to damage fell.  
This child (as common order is)  
Did use to sport and play  
Among the other neighbours babes,  
To drive the time away.  
And (as the children's custom is,  
Some one among the rest  
To fancy most,) even so this boy  
Did like a maiden best  
A tailors daughter dwelling by:  
They daily used to meet  
With sundry other babies more  
Amid the open shreete.  
This liking in their tender years  
Shot up, and grew to more,  
Even as their li●●s increased by age,  
The spark which love before  
Had kindled in his wanton breast,  
Did grow to greater fire,  
And Girolamus in his heart  
The maiden did desire.  
Their daily custom came to kind,  
And look what day that he  
Had passed without the sight of her,  
He thought it lost to be.  
And that which set the flax on fire,  
And bred the hotter flame,  
Was, that the boy did well perceive  
The maiden meant the same,  
And liked aswell of him again,  
The mother when she saw  
This matter work, began to check.  
And keep the wag in awe,  
And whipped him now and then among:  
But when she did perceive  
The stubborn stripling set her light,  
And that he would not leave  
Those wanton tricks, unfit for youth,  
She wax a woeful da●e:  
And to the tutors of her son  
This pensive widow came,  
(As one that of that reabtres thorn  
An Orange tree would fain  
Have made, because his stock was great,  
But all her toil was vain.)  
And to the sages thus she said,  
Ungracious graff my son,  
Scarce fourteen years of age as yet,  
Already hath begun,  
And entered in the suare of love:  
The wag gins to fry  
With one Salvestra's liking lust,  
A tailors daughter by.  
So that unless we wise by deal,  
And warily seem to watch,  
At length (perhaps) this foolish else  
Will with the maiden match,  
And make a rash contract with her:  
Which if should happen so,  
From that time forth, I should not live  
A merry day I know.  
Or if he should consume and waste  
With thought, or pine away,  
To see her matched some other where,  
Then woe were me I say.  
Wherefore to void this present ill,  
I think it best (quoth she)  
That you convey him hence in haste,  
If you be ruled by me.  
Cause him to travail in affairs  
Concerning Merchant's trade:  
For that perhaps by absence from  
The maid, he may be made  
To quite forget his wanton love,  
And put her out of mind,  
And make some other better choice.  
Abroad the boy shall find,  
A wench that is descended well,  
To link himself withal:  
No doubt, I séehem fully bend  
By love to hazard all  
The tutors liked well the tale  
The mother widow told,  
And made her promise presently  
To do the best they could,  
By counsel and by good advise.  
And thereupon they sent  
Amessenger unto the imp,  
That to the warchouse went,  
And wild the boy to come away:  
Who, being come in place,  
The one began to speak him thus  
With mild and friendly face.  
My son, sith you are passed a child,  
I would your wit allow,  
If you would somewhat look about  
Unto your profit now,  
And see yourself where all go right  
That doth concern your gain:  
We, that your tutors are, agree,  
(If you will take that pain)  
That you to Paris travail, there  
To stay a certain space:  
For, there, your father, whilst he lived,  
In bank your wealth did place,  
Even there your chiefest traffic lies:  
And eke besides the same,  
You shall yourself to manners good  
And better fashion frame,  
By lodging in so trim a town  
Where lusty gaisants be,  
There shall you store of Gentlemen,  
And bravest Barons see.  
And having learned their good grace,  
And marked their usage well,  
You may return you home again,  
Among your friends to dwell.  
The boy did note his tutor's tale,  
That did persuade him so,  
And briefly made answer, that  
He did not mind to go  
To Paris, for he thought he mought  
Aswell in Florence stay  
As any one, what need he then  
To travail thence away.  
The sages being answered thus,  
Unto the widow went,  
And told the mother how her son,  
The wilful wag, was bend.  
The matron, mad to bear the news,  
Spoke not a word at all  
Of Paris matters, but forthwith  
Unto his love did fall:  
Controlling him for roisting rule,  
And for his bawdy life:  
And did not let to tell him, how  
He meant to take a wife.  
But, as the mother's manner is,  
For every bitter check,  
She gave her son a honey sop,  
And hung about his neck:  
And flattered him again as fast,  
And did the boy entice  
By all the friendly means she might  
To follow their advise:  
The mother widow preached had  
Unto her son so long,  
Of this and that, and in his ear  
Had sung so sweet a song:  
As for a year to travel well,  
The boy persuaded was,  
To stay in France, and so his time  
In foreign Realm to pass.  
I leave the taking of his horse,  
I writ not of his woe:  
I pass of purpose all his plaints  
His country to forego.  
I do omit his bitter tears  
At time of his remove,  
For those to deem, that have assayed  
The pangs of pensive love.  
I writ not of the mother's grief,  
To bid her son farewell,  
For that herself was pleased withal  
And liked his voyage well.  
To Paris when this gallant came,  
Love gave the charge anew  
Upon his heart, the fight was fierce,  
A greater fancy grew  
Within his bosom, than before,  
The absence from her face,  
Might not delay the ho●● desire  
That had this youth in chase.  
And thus, the boy, that meant at first  
But for a year to stay,  
Full two years out, in burning love  
In France at Paris lay.  
Which time expired, enwrapped more  
In flakes of fancies flame,  
Than when he went from Italy,  
He back to Florence came,  
And being there arrived, he heard  
His ancient friend was sped:  
A certain Curtain maker happed  
This wench mean while to wed.  
Whereat he greatly grieved was,  
And vexed out of erie:  
But seeing that there was no choice,  
Nor other means to try.  
He purposed with himself a truce  
His sorrows to expel.  
But at the length he had espied  
Where did this damsel dwell,  
And found her standing at her door:  
Then grew this youth in heat,  
And as enamoured wights are wont,  
He 'gan the streets to beat,  
Both up, and down, both to and fro,  
He used oft to stalk  
Before the Curtain maker's house,  
In hope by often walk  
That she wanld pity of his pains,  
And eke his torment rue,  
He verliy presumed that she  
Her Girolanus knew.  
But fortune fell not out aright,  
She knew the man no more,  
Than one whom erst she never saw  
In all her life before.  
Or if she did remember him,  
At least she made in wise  
She witted not who the Merchant was,  
So coy she kest her eyes  
On Girolamus passing by.  
Yet he would never leave  
His wont walk, in hope at last  
Same favour to receive:  
Devising all the means he might  
To bring the wife again  
In mind of him, who was her love,  
Her strangeness bred his pain.  
It grieved the Merchant to the guts  
That he was so forgot:  
In fine he purposed, with himself  
(His fever was so hot)  
To speak with her, although it cost  
The losing of his life:  
And hereupon, instructed by  
The neighbours, where the wife  
Whom he entirely loud did dwell,  
He watched his season so,  
That, when the husband and his spouse,  
With other neighbours more,  
Were walked abroad to keep the watch,  
He slily did convey  
Himself into Salvestra's house:  
And being there, he lay  
Behind the Curtains, ●ie the bed,  
Unspied of any man.  
The Curtain maker and his wife  
Returned home, began  
To take their rest in wont wise.  
The man was sound a sleep  
As soon as he was laid in couch:  
Then 'gan this youth to creep,  
Upon his knees, unto the side  
Whereas Saluestra lay,  
And having softly placed his hands  
Upon her paps, 'gan say:  
What are you (sweeting) yet a sleep:  
With that the wife dismayed,  
Would have exclaimed, (as women wont  
In such like sort afraid)  
Save that the Merchant presently  
Her friendly thus bespoke.  
Alas, my Dear, exclaim not now,  
You need no thought to take,  
For I a●● Girolamus, he  
That tender your estate.  
She hearing that, said, all afraid,  
What make you here so late:  
Good Girolanus get you hence,  
Those youthful years are spent  
Wherein it was our hap to love,  
That time good faith I meant:  
Then lawful was the thing we did.  
But now you see that I  
Am otherwise bestowed and matched,  
I must not now apply  
My liking, but to him alone.  
Wherefore, I pray, quoth she,  
For love of God depart this place  
Your purpose may not be.  
For if my husband witted you here,  
(Put case none other ill  
Ensued thereof) yet this be sure,  
I should have chiding still:  
Your being here would breed debate,  
And purchase deadly strife,  
Whereas with him, as now I lead  
A jolly quiet life,  
I am his darling well belodde.  
When Girolanus had  
Both heard, and noted all her talk,  
He woxe exceeding sad.  
His heart was pierced with pensive woe  
To he are the tale she told,  
Then 'gan he wry his former love,  
And all his flame unfold.  
Declaring her, that distance had  
Not flakte his burning fire:  
And made request withal, that she  
Should grant him his desire.  
He promised golden mountains then,  
But all his suit was vain:  
No jot of friendship for his life,  
The merchant mought attain.  
Wherefore desirous then to die,  
Saluestra he besought,  
That in reward of all his love,  
And all his former thought  
Which he had suffered for her sake,  
She would but yield him grace  
To warm himself within her bed,  
Fast by her side a space:  
Whose flesh 〈◊〉 manner frozen was,  
With staying there so long,  
He made her promise on his faith  
He would not offer wrong  
Unto Saluastra, at not once  
Let fall a word so much,  
Nor yet her naked carcase with  
His manly members touch:  
But having taken there a heat,  
And warmed himself in bed,  
He would departed, and deem that he  
Sufficiently had sped.  
Saluestra taking pity then  
Of Gyrolamus case,  
Upon the promise made before  
Did yield him so much grace,  
As on her bed to stretch himself  
The youth thus being laid  
Besides his mistress, touched her not  
But with himself he weighed  
The great good will that he so long  
Within his breast had borne:  
Upon her present rigour eke  
He thought, and shameful scorn.  
And being brought to deep despair,  
He purposed not to live,  
But die the death without delay,  
And up the ghost to give.  
And hereupon his sprices withdrew  
Themselves from outward parts,  
His senses fled, he stretched himself,  
And so the youth departs  
Fast by Salvestra's savage side  
To whom he sued for grace:  
When Girolam thus dead had line  
Upon her bed a space  
The wench did wonder very much  
That he was wore so chaste.  
Whose flame of late so burning was  
And fancy fried so fast.  
At length in fear her husband would  
Awake, she 'gan to say  
Oh Gyrolamus how 〈◊〉 this?  
When will you pack away?  
But hearing him no answer make  
She thought him sound asleep  
Which made her reach her hand to wake,  
The man that slept so deep.  
She felt and found him cold as ye  
Whereof she marveled much:  
And thereupon with greater force  
She 'gan his limbs to touch.  
And thrust him, but he stirred not,  
With that within her head  
The wife conceived and wistful well  
That Girolam was dead.  
Whereof she was the soriest wench,  
That ever lived by breath:  
She knew not what to do to see  
So strange and sudden death.  
But yet at last she did devise  
To feel her husbands thought  
In person of another, not  
As though herself had wrought  
Or been a party in the fact.  
Put case, good fir (quoth she,)  
A younker loved a married wife  
As I myself mought be:  
And coming to her chamber late,  
In hope to win the wife,  
Were both beguiled of all his hope,  
And eke bereft of life,  
By only force of frantic love  
And lack of his desire,  
And want of pity's water, to  
Delay his scalding fire.  
What would you do in such a pinch?  
How would you deal as than?  
Whereto the husband answered, that  
He weuld convey the man  
Unto his home, without mistrust  
Or malice to the dame  
His wife, that had resisted so  
The force of Cupid's flame.  
Which when she herd, she answered thus  
Then (husband) doth it lie  
Upon us now to practise that,  
And eke that trick to try.  
And taking of his hand, she put  
It on the coarse that lay  
Upon the other side of her,  
As cold as any kaye.  
Whereat the wilful wight dismayed,  
And ierst with sudden fear,  
leaped of the bed full sore amazed,  
To feel a body there.  
And out he ran to light●● link,  
Without debating more  
Of further matter with his wife,  
Of what they spoke before.  
The candle light bewrayed the corpse,  
He saw the party plain,  
He made no more a do, but put  
Him in his robes again,  
And bore him on his shoulders thence:  
And knowing very well  
His lodging, set him at the door,  
Where did his mother dwell:  
When day was come, and people saw  
The carcase of the dead  
Before the gate, the fame thereof  
Throughout the city spread.  
Each one did wonder at the chance,  
That passed by the way,  
They knew the party passing well,  
But witted not what to say.  
Yet most of all, the mother mused,  
And vexed was in mind,  
That having searchte the body, could  
No wounded member find.  
Which made Physicians flatly say,  
That sorrow stopped his breath:  
With one assent they all agreed,  
That grief did cause his death.  
As custom is, the corpse was borne  
Into a temple by  
Where merchant men of his estate  
And wealthy wights did lie.  
The mourning mother the there came  
To wail her sons decease  
And with the matron thousands more  
Of neighbours more and less.  
Were come to church to shed their tears  
Salvestra's husband then.  
Perceiving that the preate was grent,  
Of women and of men,  
Ran home & wild his wife do on  
A kerchief on her head:  
And throng amid the 〈◊〉 to bear  
What news went of the dead.  
And be himself thrustan among  
The men, to learn what they  
Imagined of the merchants death,  
Where any one did say  
Or had him in suspect thereof  
S●●aestra hereupon  
Made haste to church, and felt remorse  
Within her breast anon.  
But all to late her pity ●ame,  
For she desired to view  
Him being dead, whom erst alive  
She took disdat●e to r●we.  
Or recompense so much as with  
A kiss. O wench unkind,  
A marvels thing, to think how hard  
It is for man to find  
Or sound the depth of lovers thoughts,  
Or know the force of love:  
For lo her breast, whom Gyrolams  
Good fortune might not move,  
Nor during life procure to ruth,  
His death did raze her heart.  
His misadventures did renew  
The stroke of Cupid's dart.  
Her ancient flame rekindled was,  
And to such pity grew,  
When as she did the carcase dead  
Of Gyrolamus view,  
That being but in simple weed,  
As meanest women were,  
By one and one she gate before  
The richest matrons there,  
Not stinting till she came unto  
The body where it lay,  
And being there she gave a shout,  
And yielded forth a bray.  
So loud as for her life she could,  
And groveling with her face,  
On Gyrolamus carcase fell,  
His body to embrace.  
And bathed his limbs with brackish tears,  
That issued from her eyes  
As long as life would give her leave:  
Which done, Saluestra dies.  
And look how grief & hidden thought,  
Had slain her desperate friend,  
Even so remorse of covert cares,  
Her loathed life did end.  
Which when the mourning matrons saw  
Each one in friendliest wise,  
To comfort her in words began,  
And willed her thence to rise,  
As than not witting who she was:  
But at the last, when that  
She would not mount, but lay me still  
Upon the body flat,  
They came to lift her unber legs,  
And raise her from the ground,  
And then, both that the wife was dead,  
And who she was, they found.  
Saluestra then she did appear,  
Then double wox the woe  
Of all the wives that mouruers were,  
When they the dame did know.  
Then 'gan they mourn as fast again  
As ere they did before,  
For every sigh, a hundred sobs,  
For every tear a score.  
This brute no s●●er out of Church,  
Among the people came:  
But out of hand per husband heard  
The tidings of the same.  
Who (as I said) was gone among  
The men, to lend an ear,  
And hearken what report there went  
Of them that died there.  
Then like a loving husband, that  
Embraced Saluestra well,  
From sobbing sighs, to trickling tears,  
For her misfortune fell.  
And wailed her ddath no little time,  
And after that, to some  
That were in place, declared, by night  
How Gyrolam did come  
Unto his house, through burning love  
Which he Saluestra bore,  
And told the tale from point to point,  
As I have penned before.  
Where at the audience woeful wox,  
That understood the case,  
Then taking up the carcase of  
The wife that lay in place,  
And having knit the shrouding sheet,  
As common custom is,  
They laid her body on the bear,  
And set her side to his.  
Thus having wept upon the dead  
In proof of inward pain:  
And buried both together, home  
The people went again.  

See luck, whom love was not of force,  
Alive to link in one:  
Death found the means to couple close,  
Within a marble stone.    

lenvoy.  

whether stars do stir good liking from above,  
By hidden force and covert power divine  
Or craunce breed choice & leads us on to love  
●nd fancy falses as fortune list assign,  
I cannot judge nor perfectly define.  
But this I know ouce let it ghther root  
And to remove it then is slender boot.   

Let sickness grow, let cankers work their will  
Seek not at first their malice to suppress  
Scorn wholesome help do flout at physikes' sail  
In hope thy grief will suage and waren less  
And thou at last shalt never have redress  
Diseases more admit no cunning cure  
The cause by time is fastened on so sure.   

When fire to once crept in among the shaw  
And flame hath reached the rotten roof on high  
'tis hardly quenched his fury hath no law  
It seldom sinks till all on ground do lie  
The way to help is busily to ply  
The matter first before it grow too far  
When steeds are stolen 'tis bootless doors to dare.   

Even so it fares when fancy blows the coal  
Of friend ●ipf●●st and s●ts abroach good will  
I man may imps with ease from love control  
Whilst fear dot force them stoop to parents will  
But let them run their race at riot still  
And not rebukte by reason at the first  
Along they go let parents do their worst.   

Too late comes salves to cure contyrmed sores  
When love is linked and choice is chained taste  
You may as soon pluck trees up by the roots  
As break the knot or sunder promise past  
The tackle hangs so sure unto the Mast  
When ships from shore have hopste up all their sa●les,  
To bend about again it little veils.   

So stately is the stroke of Cupid's bow,  
So fell his force, so huge his heavy hand,  
No striving serves, no shift to shun the blow.  
No might nor mean his Godhead to withstand,  
Who fastest runs sinks deapest in the sands:  
Wherefore I wish that parents give consent,  
And not repine when minds to match are bend.   

For bar the sick whom Fever doth molest,  
To drink his fill, his thirst will be the more,  
Restrain thy jenates course, thy bridle wrest,  
The beast becovimes far fiercer, than before,  
Where streams be stopped, there rivers most do roar,  
Down go the banks, and over flows the flood,  
Where swelling waters feel themselves withstood.   

No travail serves to sunder loving hearts,  
No absence breeds in friends forgetful minds,  
The farther of that dely from other parts,  
The botter each his flaming fancy finds.  
Who strives to stop, doth most enrage the winds:  
No lover true, but bears within his breast,  
The shape of her whom he doth fancy best.   

As thunder showers, whom weather calms again,  
give greater drought and helps along the string,  
By means of heat mixed with the blomiing rain:  
So safe return of absent friend, doth bring  
Increase of love and faster streams the spring:  
Respect of birth, of state, or aught beside,  
Stops not the boat, that drives wuh such a tide.   

A folly then for parents to restrain,  
For lucre's sake their children, ●th we see  
That both their care and labour is in vain,  
And sundry times a thousand tiles there be  
That do ensue, when they will not agree:  
As in this tale the Florentine doth show  
The great mishaps by such restraint that grow.   

Can mothers threats, or tutors taunts reucke  
This merchants mind, or make him alter love,  
Can Paris pleasure once this youth provoke,  
His ancient friend from fancy to remove?  
Yea, though it were a thing for his behove,  
No, back he came the self same man he went,  
He changed the air, but not his first intent.   

And love, to help him onward odd his race,  
Assisted with devise and subtle sleight,  
Eke Venus taught him how to come in place,  
And shrouded him in cloudy cloak of night,  
Whereby he might approach to his delight,  
But all for nought. The game that he pursued,  
Was caught before, and thence his have ensued.   

So Pyramus in Babylon of poor,  
Fair Thisbe loved, but parents disagreed,  
They might not match, but prisoned were therefore:  
Yet love at length this faithful couple freed,  
The time was set, the place and all decreed,  
When foul mishap bereft them both of life,  
Who slew themselves with one unlucky knife.   

Had pity lodge within Salvestra's breast,  
Would she have forced so true a man to die,  
Who charged with love and thousand woes distressed,  
Did hazard life to press in place so me,  
Unto a dame that with her spouse did lie?  
O bloody Bear, nay rather Tigers whelp  
That would refuse her ancient friend to help.   

O marble mind O stain of woman's stock  
Not fed with un ●e of kindly nurse's pap  
But hewed with tool out of some ruthless rock  
And laid within some Lionesses lap  
Couldst thou allow thy friend so hard a hap  
As by thy side amid his suit to see  
Him d●e the death and all for love of thee?   

Draw hither dames and read this bloody fact  
Note wei the fruit of frowardness in love  
Peruse the plague of her that pity lacked  
See how in that she pleased the gods above  
Example take your xygo● to remous  
And you that are Cupydos knights ta●e heed  
Bestow no more good will then shalde need.   

Renounce the love of such as are forsped  
forego those friends wh●m law forbids to like  
Court no man's wife embrace no marriage bed  
Leave of your lust by others harines to seek  
No such good will can last above a week  
Look when you think yourselves in chiefest price  
They set you by whilst others throw the dice.   

When once regard of honour lies aside  
When credit is respected nought at all  
Then shame ensues and follows after pride  
From virtue then to filthy vice they fall  
And to allure they use a pleasant call  
And being once entangled in the twig  
To make you fat they ●eede you with a fig.   

For one delight ten thousand ills ensues  
For little glee much bitter gall you gayve  
You may not hope to ty●●oe those women true  
Their husband's beds that voe not stick to stain  
And make them serve for clokey against the rain  
Wherefore I say force not of any deign  
That for a friend forgoee an honest name.      

❧ EPJTATHES and Sonnettes annexed to the Tragical histories, By the Author.  
With some other broken pamphlets and Epistles, sent to certain his friends in England, at his being in Moscovia. Anno 1569.  
Omnia probate.  
Quod bonum est tenete.  

A farewell to a mother Cousin, at his going towards Moscovia.  

Go post you pensive lines,  
and papers full of woe,  
Make haste unto my mother's hands,  
her sons farewell to show.  
Do mark her looks at first,  
ere you your message tell,  
For fear your sudden news, her mind  
do fancy nothing well.  
But sithen needs you must  
my travails troth unfold,  
To offer up her sons farewell,  
and last adieu, be bold.  
I know she will accept  
your coming in good part,  
Till time she understand by you  
that I must needs depart.  
But when you make report  
that I am shipped from shore,  
In mind to cut the foaming Seas,  
where winter winds do roe roar:  
Then woe be unto you,  
that mournful message bear,  
For doubtless she with trembling hands  
will you in sunder tear.  
But (mother) let your son  
persuade you in this case,  
For no man sure is borne to lead  
his life in one self place.  
I must no longer stay  
advantage is but vile  
The cruel lady fortune on  
your son will never smile.  
My country coast where I  
my Nurse's milk did suck,  
Would never yet in all my life  
allow me one good luck.  
With cost increase my cares,  
expenses nip me near,  
Love waxeth cold, no friendship doth  
in nature's breast appear.  
Where slender is the gain  
and charges grow too hie  
Where living lacks and money melts  
that should the want supply:  
From thence 'tis time to trudge  
and hire the hackney post  
To shift to ship, to leave the land  
and seek a better coast.  
Sith I have all my years  
in studies fond applied  
And every way that might procure  
a better chance have tried.  
Yet better not my state  
but like a sotted dolt  
Consume my time that goes about,  
to mend a broken bolt.  
Sith I have lived so long  
and never am the naere  
To bid my native soil farewell,  
I purpose for a year.  
And more perhaps if need  
and present cause require:  
They say the country is too cold  
the hotter is the fire.  
Moscovia is the place,  
where all good furs be sold  
Then pray thee (mother) tell me how,  
thy son shall die with cold.  
Put case the snow be thick,  
and winter frosts be great:  
I do not doubt but I shall find,  
a stove to make me sweat.  
If I with credit go,  
and may return with gain  
I hope I shallbe able well  
to bide this travails pain.  
The slothful Groom that sits,  
at home and tells the clock:  
And fears the flood because therein  
lies hidden many a rock.  
As he abides no woe,  
no wealth he doth deserve,  
Let him that will not cut the loaf  
for lack and famine starve.  
The Cat deserves no fish  
that fears her foot to wet,  
'tis time for me in profit now  
mine idle brains to beat.  
I trust I shall return  
far better than I go,  
Increase of credit will procure  
my simple wealth to grow:  
Mean while I wish thee well  
(good mother mine) to far,  
And better than myself, who yet  
was never void of care.  
Sith need obeys no law,  
and needs I must to bark,  
Farewell, and think upon thy son,  
but have of him no cark.  
The Gods I hope will hear  
the suit that you shall make,  
And I amid the Sea shall far  
the better for your sake.  
If ever fortune serve,  
and bring me safe to land,  
The hard mishaps of travail you  
by me shall understand.  
And whatsoever strange  
or monstrous sight I see.  
Assure thyself at my return  
I will declare it thee.  
Thus every thing hath end.  
and so my letters shall,  
Even from the bottom of my breast,  
I do salute you all.  
What so becomes of me  
the mighty Gods I crave,  
That you my friends, a blessed life  
and happy deaths may have.    

That nothing can cause him to forget his friend, wherein is touched the hardness of his travail.  

IF boisterous blast of fierce and froward wind,  
If weltering waves, and frothy foaming Seas,  
If shining Sun by night against his kind,  
If lack of lust to meat, and want of ease,  
If fear of wrack, and force of roving foe,  
If raged Rocks that in the rivers lie:  
If frozen floods where sliding Sledds do go,  
If cruel cold upon the mountains high,  
If seldom sleepeth, if sundry sorts of care,  
If bareskin beds, or else a boarded bench,  
If lack of kindly cates and courtly fare,  
If want of wholesome drink the thirst to quench,  
If stinking Stoves, if Cunas and bitter brag,  
If savage men, if women foul to sight,  
If riding post upon a trotting Nag,  
If homely yammes, in stead of Inns at night:  
If these (I say) might make a man forget  
So true a friend, than thou art out of mind.  
But in good faith, my fancy firm was set,  
No Russie mought the true love knot unbind.  
Venus be judge, and Cupid in this case,  
Who did pursue me aye from place to place.    

He declares that albeit he were imprisoned in Russia, yet his mind was at liberty, & did daily repair to his friend.  

NOw find I true that hath been often told,  
(No man may reave the freedom of the mind,)  
Though keepers charge in chains the captive hold,  
Yet can he not the Soul in bondage bind:  
That this is true, I find the proof in me,  
Who Captive am, and yet at liberty.  
Though at my heel a cruel clog they tie,  
And ranging out by rigour be restrained,  
Yet maugre might, my mind doth freely fly  
Home to my friend, it will not be enchainde:  
No churls check, no Tyrant's threat can stay  
A lovers heart, that longs to be away.  
I do desire no aid of Dedalus,  
By feat to forge such waxed wings anew  
As erst he gave his son young Icarus,  
When they from Crete for fear of Minos flew,  
Dame Fancy hath such feathers still in store,  
For me to fly as I desire no more.   
Il desire non hariposo.   

A comparison of his mistress, with a brave Lady of Russia.  

Fair is thy face, and lovely are thy looks,  
Rich be thy robes and geason to be had  
White are thine ears, hanged full of silver kookes  
Brave be thy boots, thy body costly clad,  
With Sable, Sube, thy neck beset with pearl.  
Thy broidered gyte makes thee a gallant girl.   

The Russies rude do deem right well of thee,  
Mine english eye no painted image leeks,  
I have a friend that well contenteth me,  
With kindly shape and kindly coloured cheeks,  
Such one she is, as I will here declare,  
Few are her peers, I find her matches rare,   

Her hear is golden wire, her shining eyes  
Two Diamonds that glister passing bright,  
Amids her lily cheeks, the Ruby lies,  
Her teeth of pearl, lips lovely red and white,  
All other limbs do answer well the same,  
Now judge of both which is the braver dame,   
La mia donna  
bella è buona.   

To his friend promising that though her beauty fade, yet his love shall last.  

I Wot full well that beauty cannot last,  
No rose that springs, but lightly doth decay,  
And feature like a lily leaf doth waste,  
Or as the Cowslip in the midst of May:  
I know that tract of time doth conquer all,  
And beauty's buds like fading flowers do fall.   

That famous Dame fair Helen, lost her hew  
When withered age with wrinkles changed her cheeks,  
Her lovely looks did loathsomeness ensue,  
That was the A per se of all the Greeks?  
And sundry more that were as fair as she  
Yet Helen was as fresh as fresh might be.   

No force for that, I price your beauty light,  
If so I find you steadfast in good will:  
Though few there are that do in age delight,  
I was your friend, and so do purpose still,  
No change of looks shall breed my change of love  
Nor beauties want, my first goodwill remove.   
Per gentilezza,  
Tanto.  
Non per bellezza.   

From the city of Mosqua, to his friend in England.  

GO burning sighs, and pierce the frozen sky,  
Slack you the snow with flames of fancies fire  
Twixt Brutus' land, and Mosqua that do lie:  
Go sighs I say, and to the Phoenix fly,  
Whom I embrace, and chiefly do desire,  
Report of me that I do love her best,  
None other Saint doth harbour in my breast.   

Tell her that though the cold is wont by kind  
To quench the coal, and ffames do yield to frost,  
Yet may no winter's force in Russia bind  
My heart so heard, or alter so my mind,  
But that I still embrace her beauty most:  
I went her friend, and so cotinue still,  
Frest cannot fret the ground of my good will.   
Ardoe ghiaccio.   

To his mistress, declaring his life only to depend of her looks.  

THe Salamander cannot live  
without the help of flaming fire:  
To hath his limbs in burning coals,  
it is his glee and chief desire.  
The little fish doth love the lake,  
dame nature hath assigned him:  
To live no longer than he doth  
amid the silver channel swim.  
Chameleon feeds but on the air,  
the lack whereof is his decay:  
These three do perish out of hand,  
take fire, floods, and air away.  
judge you (my deer) the danger then  
of very force that must ensue:  
Unto this careful heart of mine,  
that cannot live withouten you.  
I am the fish, you are the flood,  
my heart it is that hangs on hook:  
I cannot live if you do stop,  
the floudhatch of your freudly brook.  
I silly Salamander die.  
if you maintain not friendships fire:  
Quench you the coal and you shall see  
me pine for lack of my desire.  
You are the pleasant breathing air,  
and I your poor Chameleon,  
Bar me your breath and out of hand  
my life and sweet delight is gone.  
Which sith 'tis so (good mistress) then  
do save my life to serve your turn  
Let me have air and water still  
let me your Salamander burn.  
My death will do you little good,  
my life perhaps may pleasure you:  
rue on my case and pity him,  
that swears himself your servant true,  
I bear the badge within my breast,  
wherein are blazed your colours brave:  
Love is the only livery, that  
I at your courteous hand do crave.  
I do desire no greedy gain,  
I covet not the massy gold:  
Embrace your servant (mistress) then,  
his wages will be quickly told.  
As you are fair so let me find,  
your bounty equal to your face:  
I cannot think that kind so near,  
to beauty's bower would rigour place,  
Your comely hew behight me hope,  
your lovely looks allow me life.  
Your grave regard doth make me deem,  
you fellow to Ulysses wife,  
Which if be true then happy I,  
that so in love my fancy set,  
In you doth rest my life, my death,  
by slaying me no gain you get.  
The noble minded Lion kills  
no yielding beast by cruelty.  
And worthy dames delight to save  
their servants lives by courtesy.   
Virtu ti comes invidia.   


MY Spencer, spite 〈◊〉 virtues deadly foe,  
The best are ever sure to bear the blame,  
And envy next to virtue still doth go,  
But virtue shines, when envy shrinks for shame.   

In common weals what bears a greater sway  
Than hidden hate that hoards in haughty breast?  
In prince's courts it bears the bell away,  
With all estates this envy is a guest.   

Be wise, thy wit will purchase privy hate,  
Be rich, with rents flock in a thousand foes  
Be stout, thy courage will procure debate,  
Be fair, thy beauty not unhated goes.   

Bear office thou, and with thy golden mace,  
Comes envy in, and treads upon thy train,  
Yea, be a Prince, and hate will be in place,  
To bid him stand aloof it is in vain.   

So that I see, that Boccas words be true:  
For each estate is pestered with his foe;  
Save misery, whom hate doth not ensue,  
The beggar only doth unspited go:   

Yet beggars base estate is not the best,  
Though envy let the beggar lie at rest.   
Sola miseria esenza  
invidia, Boccacio.   

That though he may not possible come or send, yet he lives mindful of his mistress in Moscovia.  

WHo so hath read Leander's love,  
which he to Lady Hero bore,  
And how he swam through Aelles' flood,  
twixt Abydon and Sestus shore.  
To gain his game, to live at lust,  
to lay him in the Lady's lap,  
Will rue his pains, and scarce exchange  
his case to have Leander's hap,  
But happy I account hi● case,  
for having past those narrow Seas,  
He was assured to lodge aloft,  
with Hero in the tower of ease.  
He never went but did enjoy,  
his mistress whom he did desire.  
He seldom swam the foaming flood,  
but was assured to quench his fire.  
The torch it hung upon the tower,  
the lamp gave light to show the way:  
He could not miss the darksome night  
it shone as clear as sunny day,  
Thus happy was Leaders lot,  
but most unhappy mine estate:  
For swimming will not serve my turn  
to bring me to my loving mate.  
The floods are frozen round about,  
the snow is thick on every side:  
The raging Ocean runs betwixt  
my friend and me with crueltide.  
The hills be overwhelmed with hoar  
the country clad with mantles white  
Each tree attired with flakes of ye,  
is nothing else save snow in sight.  
The mighty Volgas' stately stream  
in winter slipper as the glass:  
Abides no boat, how should I then  
devise a mean a way to pass?  
And Suchan that in summer time,  
was easy to be overgone:  
With Boreas' blast is bound as hard,  
as any flint or marble stone,  
Free passage Dwina doth deny,  
whose stream is stopped and choked with snow.  
There is no way for any barge,  
much less for any man to go:  
I cannot for my life repair,  
to thee to ease my present pain:  
There is no passage to be had,  
till summer slake the snow again.  
Mean while yet mayst thou make account,  
that I do still remember thee.  
In Russia where I lead my life,  
and long again at home to be.  
No force shall cause me to forget  
or lay the care of love aside:  
Time is the touchstone of good will,  
whereby my meaning shallbe tried.  
If I might have conveyed my lines,  
unto thy hands, it would have eased,  
My heavy heart of divers doubts,  
my message might my mind appeased  
But (friend) endure this long delay  
myself will come when time shall serve  
To tell thee news and how I far:  
mean while stand fast & do not swerver  
Presume that as I was thine own,  
even so I do continue still.  
I stnow her not whose beauty shall remove  
or change my first good will.  
Thy face hath pierced my breast so far,  
thy graces este so many be,  
As if I would, I cannot choose  
but love, and make account of thee.    

To a fair gentlewoman, false to her friend.  

WIthin the garden plot of thy fair face,  
Doth grow a graff of divers qualities:  
A matter rare within so little space,  
A man to find such sundry properties:  
For commonly the root in every tree,  
Bark, body, boughs, bud, leaf, and fruit agree.  
First for the root is rigour in the breast,  
Treason the tree, that springeth of the same,  
Beauty the bark that over spreads the rest,  
The boughs are brave, and climbing up to fame,  
Brawls be the buds that hang on every bow,  
A blossom fit for such roots to allow.  
Love is the leaf that little time endures,  
Flattery the fruit which treasons tree doth bear,  
Though beauties burst at first the eye allure,  
Yet at the last ill will the worm, doth wear  
Away the leaf, the blossoms, boughs, and all,  
And rigours root, makes beauties buds to fall.   
Par essere ingrata, Non sarai amata.   

A farewell to a crafty deceitful Dame.  

AS he that loathes the powders smell,  
must never press where Gunners be:  
So he that hates a double deign,  
must never have to do with thee.  
For craft I see, is all thy care,  
thy smoothest looks betoken guiles:  
In woman's womb thou féedst a fox,  
that bites thy friend on whom he smiles.  
Had Nature witted thy deep deceits  
before thy birth, I think that kind,  
To save thy name, and ease thy friends,  
had sealed thine dies, and kept thee blind.  
For what is she that bears a face  
of greater trust, and more good will:  
Yet who is she that hath a heart  
more prone to pay the good with ill?  
Thy beauty jed me on to love,  
thy looks alured my looking eyes:  
Thy doubleness now breeds despair,  
thy craft doth cause my woeful cries.  
I could requite dissembling love,  
and gloze perhaps as well as you:  
But that I take but small delight  
to change mine ancient friends for new,  
Yet will I not be sotted so,  
as still to let my love to loss,  
I better know what metal is,  
than to exchange the gold for dross.  
Good will is ever worth good will,  
if both the balance equal be:  
But sure too massy is my love,  
to make exchange of loves with thee.  
Wherefore I say, unknit the knot  
wherewith thy love was falsely tied,  
Thou lackest a grain to make up weight,  
men say, (good measure never lied.)  
Go seek some other to deceive,  
too well I know thy crafty call:  
My mouth is very well in taste,  
to judge the honey from the gall.  
That you are gall, I may avow,  
for honey hath no bitter taste:  
The wine of your good will is spent,  
you keep this dregs for me at last.  
Wherefore I do renounce the cask,  
I leave the lees for other men:  
My hap was ill, my choice was worse,  
I yield you up to choose again.    

Spare to speak, Spare to speed.  

MY Spencer spare to speak,  
and ever spare to speed,  
Unless show show thy hurt, how shall  
the Surgeon know thy need?  
Why hath a man a tongue,  
and boldness in his breast,  
But to bewray his mind by mouth,  
to set his heart at rest?  
The fisherman that fears  
his cork and chord to cast,  
Or spread his net to take the fish,  
well worthy is to fast.  
The forrestman that dreads  
to rouse the lodged Buck,  
Because of bramble brakes, deserves  
to have no hunter's luck.  
Where words may wingood will,  
and boldness bear no blame,  
Why should there want a fare of brass  
to board the bravest dame?  
Unless thou cast thy lure,  
or throw her out a train:  
Thou seldom shalt a Falcon, or  
a Tassel gentle gain.  
Though looks betoken love,  
and makes a show of lust,  
Yet speech is it that knits the knot  
whereto a man may trust.  
Assure thyself, as he  
that fears caliver shot,  
Can never come to scale a fort,  
or skirmish worth a groat:  
So be that spares to speak,  
when time and place are fit,  
Is sure to miss the mark, which else  
he were in hope to hit.  
Give him an ivy leaf  
in stead of pipe to play,  
That dreads to board a gallant dame  
for fear she say him nay.  
Where venture is but small,  
and booty very great,  
A coward knight will hazard there  
in hope to work his fea●.  
Wherefore when time shall serve  
(my Spencer) spare to blush,  
Fall to thy purpose like aman,  
and boldly beat the bush.  
Who so accounts of loss,  
doth seldom gain the game:  
And blushing cheek & be often hard,  
for fear of after shame.  
No doubt, a Lady doth  
embrace him more, that dares  
To tell his tale, than such a one  
that of his language spares.  
Deceit is dreaded more,  
and craft doth rifer reign,  
In one that like an image sits,  
than him that speaketh plain.  
Yea, though thy mistress make,  
as though she loved no wine,  
Remember Aesop's Fox, that was  
too low to reach the vine.  
Take this for certain troth,  
the best and bravest bow,  
Will stoop, if so the cause be good,  
thou knowest my meaning now.  
Experience hath no peer,  
it passeth learning far:  
I speak it not without my book,  
but like a man of war.  
Wherefore be bold to board  
the fairest first of all,  
Ay Venus aids the forward man,  
and Cupid helps his thrall.    

Weary of long silence, he breaks his mind to his mistress.  

NOt much unlike the horse  
that feels himself orprest  
With weighty burden on his back,  
doth long to be at rest:  
So I, whose boiling breast,  
with fancies flood did flow,  
Had great desire my great good will  
with painting pen to show,  
To ease my woeful heart  
of long endured pain,  
And purchase quiet to my mind,  
whom love wellnigh hath slain.  
Believe my words (dear dame)  
dissembling is a sin,  
Not mine, but thine, these many days  
my captive heart hath been.  
But shame, and coward fear,  
the lovers mortal foes,  
Would never condescend that I  
my meaning should disclose.  
Till now at length desire  
my wont ease to gain:  
Did bid me sue for grace, and said  
I should not sue in vain.  
For as thy beauty is  
far braver than the rest,  
So bounty must of force abound  
within thy noble breast.  
Oh, seek not thou to shed  
or suck of yielding blood:  
Alas, I think to murder me  
would do thee little good.  
Whom if you seem to rue,  
as I do hope you will,  
In praise of your good nature then  
my hand shall show his skill.  
Lo here in pawn of love,  
I vow myself to thee:  
A slave, a servant, and a friend  
till dying day to be.    

He wisheth his dreams either longer or truer.  

SHort is the day wherein  
I do not think of thee:  
And in the night amid my sleep,  
thy face (dear dame) I see.  
The dream delights me much,  
it cuts my care away:  
methinks I kiss and clip thee oft,  
the rest I blush to say.  
Who happy then but I,  
whilst sleep and slumber last:  
But who (alas) so much a wretch,  
as I when sleep is past.  
For with the sliding sleep  
away slips my delight:  
Departing dreams do drive away  
thy countenance out of sight.  
And then in place of glee,  
in glides a crew of care:  
My panting heart laments, that I  
do feel my bed so bare.  
For thou that wert the cause  
of comfort, art not there:  
And I poor silly woeful man,  
in sobs the night do wear.  
Then curse I cankered chance,  
that made me dream of thee,  
And fancy fond, that fed itself  
with dreams that feigned be.  
Thus wears away the night  
consumed in careful pain:  
Those restless banners beating still,  
upon my busy brain.  
Then draws the dawning on,  
I leave my couch, and rise,  
In hope to find some pleasant toy,  
that may content mine eyes.  
But out alas, I can  
not see so fair a sight,  
That can my heause heart relieve,  
and dainty eyes delight.  
Each beauty that doth blaze,  
each visage that I see:  
Augments my care, in causing me  
to long and look for thee.  
Thus waste I all the night  
in dreams without desire:  
Thus drive I on my days in love,  
that scalds like scorching fire.  
Yet well content therewith,  
so that, at my return  
Thou pity me, who for thy sake  
with Cupid's coals do burn.  
I am the Turile true,  
that sits upon the tree:  
And wail my woe without a make,  
and only wish for thee.    

Unable by long and hard travel to banish love, returns her friend.  

WOunded with love, and piercing deep desire  
Of your fair face, I left my native land,  
With Russia snow to slack mine English fire,  
But well I see, no cold can quench the brand  
That Cupid's coals enkindle in the breast,  
Frost hath no force where friendship is possessed.  
The Ocean sea for all his featefull flood,  
The perils great of passage not prevail,  
To banish love the rivers do no good,  
The mountains high cause Cupid not to quail,  
Wight are his wings, and fancy flies as fast,  
As any ship for all his sails and mast.  
The river Dwina cannot wash away  
With all his waves the love I bear to thee,  
Nor Suchan swift loves raging heat delay,  
Good will was grafted upon so sure a tree.  
Sith tranaile then, nor frost can cool this fire:  
From Mosqua I thy friend will home retire.    

That he findeth others as fair, but not so faithful as his friend.  

I Sundry see for beauty's gloss  
that with my mistress may compare:  
But few I find for true good will  
that to their friends so friendly are,  
Look what she says I may assure  
myself thereof, she will not feign:  
What others speak is hard to trust  
they measure all their words by gain.  
Her looks declare her loving mind,  
her countenance and her heart agree:  
When others laugh they look as smooth,  
but love not half so well as she:  
The grief is hers when I am gripped,  
my finger's ache is her disease:  
With me though others mourn to sight,  
yet are their hearts at quiet ease.  
So that I mark in Cupid's court,  
are many fair and fresh to see:  
Each where is sown dame beauties feed  
but fair and faithful few there be.    

Travailing the desert of Russia, he complaineth to Echo, with request that she comfort his afflicted state.  

YOu hollow hills and valleys wide,  
that wont are to yield again:  
The latter cause of lovers cries  
resound and help me to complain.  
Repeat my piteous pensive plaints,  
recite my tale when I have done:  
howl out ye hills and let me heart  
my voice among your rocks to run.  
It will delight my dazed spirits,  
when I report my mistress name:  
Amid my plaint to hear the hills,  
at every call to call the same.  
Good Echo show me thy good will,  
is no man here but thou and I:  
Take up my tale as I lament,  
and say (Alas) as I do cry,  
Was never man that did enjoy,  
a better dame than I have done:  
But now (Alas) she is alack,  
help Echo, help, I am undone  
Besides mine absence from her sight,  
another doth possess my place,  
And of my harvest shears the sheaves,  
help Echo, help, lament my case.  
I know not when I shall return,  
or when to see that sweet again:  
For (out alas) she is away  
good echo help to ease my pain.  
But nought I see it doth avail,  
thy talk increaseth but my woe:  
It irks me to recite her name,  
and miss the saint I honour so.  
Wherefore sith bootless be complaints,  
and cleping cannot right my case:  
I bid thee (Echo) here adieu  
I will go seek to see her face.  
The face that Paris would have chose,  
if he had seen her in the mount:  
Good faith the lady Venus had  
been had as then in small account.  
And as for Pallas and the third,  
I mean the mighty junos' grace:  
I know right well they would have hid  
themselves, and never priest in place.  
For nature made her not to match,  
but to exceed and pass the rest:  
Thrice happy he that can attain  
her love, and to be liked best.    

He craves his mistress to accept his writing being otherwise insufficient to win good liking from her.  

AS many are the means,  
to fall in fancies frame:  
So divers be the drifts of men,  
for to achieve the same.  
For some to win their loves,  
and purchase privy grace:  
With curious tongues like carpet knights  
do plead a feigned case.  
And all to please the ears,  
and mate their mistress mind:  
Of this and that they tell their tales,  
as they fit leisure find.  
Some other wanting chat,  
not having words at will:  
With nimble joints, and fingering fine,  
on Lutes do show their skill.  
By sugared sound to win,  
their ladies to their love:  
With earnest care those wanton wights,  
Apollo's practice prove.  
And such as skilful are,  
in dancing do desire  
To practise that whereby to sit,  
their fronions hearts on fire.  
Whose breast is sweet to ear,  
he strains his voice to sing:  
Thereby unto his greedy lust  
his mistress mind to bring.  
The martial man at arms,  
to muster doth delight:  
And loves to show his helmed head;  
before his Lady's sight.  
In hope to purchase praise,  
and after praise some grace:  
For women love a valiant man  
that dares defend their case.  
Thus each one doth attempt,  
and puts the thing in ●re  
That fittest is to gain good will,  
so Falconers use the lure.  
But I unhappy wight,  
that can do nought of these:  
How might I do, or what devise  
my mistress mind to please.  
Where neither tongue can talk  
nor finger frame with Lute:  
Nor footing serve to dauner: alas,  
how should I move my suit?  
Not pleasant is my voice  
unable to delight:  
I can do nought unlesst it be  
with pen to show my plight.  
I only can in verse,  
set out a dame to show●  
And on a well deserving friend,  
a friendly praise bestow.  
Thus must I hunt for love  
wherefoe (good Lady) then  
In am of other finer skills,  
accept my ragged pen.  
Let me by writing win,  
what others do by art:  
And during life you shall assure,  
you of a loving heart.  
No virtue shallbe lodged  
within your courteous breast:  
But I will blaze the same abroad,  
as bravely as the best.  
And as for beauty's praise,  
I will procure that fame  
Shall sound it out so loud, that all  
the world shall read thy name▪  
So as by loving me,  
you shall have love again:  
And eke the hearts of thousands me  
for you good will attain.  
I never was mine own  
sith first 〈◊〉 your face:  
Nor never will, but ever yours,  
if you will rue my case.    

The mean is best.  

THe fire doth fry, the frost doth freeze  
the cold breeds care, the heat doth harm,  
The middle point twixt both is best,  
nor over-cold, nor overwarme.  
I dream it not the happy life  
the needy beggars bag to bear:  
Ne yet the blessed state of all  
a mighty Kaisars' crown to wear.  
That one is cloyed with sundry cares,  
and dies ten thousand times a day:  
That other still in danger goes,  
for every traitor's hand to flay.  
The highest hill is not the place  
whereon to build the stately bower:  
The deepest bale it is as ill,  
for lightly there doth rest the shower.  
The failing ship that keeps the shore,  
upon the rock is often rend:  
And he that dentures out too far,  
and tries the stream with waves is hent.  
For there the win● doth work his will,  
there Neptune's churlish imps ●o reign:  
The middle way is safe to sail,  
I mean the mean betwixt the twain.  
So that the mean is best to choose,  
not over high, nor over low:  
Wherefore, if you your safety love,  
embrace the mean, let mounting go.    

To his friend Edward Dancie of Deceit.  

DAncie, deceit is rifer now a day,  
Then honest dealing, virtue is but vile,  
I see dissembling bears the bell away:  
Craft hath a cloak to cover all his guile,  
And underneath the same a knife doth lurk,  
When time shall serve a shameful spoil to work.  
Each man almost hath change of faces now,  
To shift at pleasure, when it may avail:  
A man must give no credit to the brow,  
The smoothest smiling friend will soon fail,  
No trust without a trial many years,  
All is not gold that glistringly appears.  
Who so shall make his choice upon a man  
To love, and like, must warily look abou●,  
A faithful friend is like a coal-black Swan.  
We may not trust the painted sheath without,  
Unless good luck continue at a stay.  
Farewell thy friends, like fowls they fly away.    

Of the right noble L. William, Earl of Pembroke his death.  

THough betters pen the praise  
of him that earned fame,  
Yet pardon men of meaner skill  
if they attempt the same.  
Good will may be as great  
in simple wits to write,  
In commendation of the good,  
as heads of deeper sight.  
Wherefore among the rest  
that rue this Earl's want,  
Myself will set my Muse abroach,  
although my vain be scant.  
This Realm hath lost a lamp,  
that gave a gallant show:  
No stranger half so strange to us  
but did this Noble know.  
His virtues spread so far,  
his worthy works so wide,  
That foreign princes held him dear,  
where so he was employed.  
Whose wit such credit won  
in country service still,  
That Envy could not give the check,  
nor rancour reave good will.  
He ever kept the room  
that prince and fortune gave:  
As courteous in the country, as  
in court a Courtier brave.  
To low and meanest men  
a lowly mind he bore,  
No haughty heart to stout estates,  
unless the cause were more.  
But than a Lion's heart  
this dreadful Dragon had:  
In field among his foes, as fierce,  
as in the Senate sad.  
Had Pallas at his birth  
for Pembroke done her best,  
As nature did: then Pembroke had  
surmounted all the rest.  
For though that learning lacked  
to paint the matter out:  
What case of wright so weighty was,  
but Pembroke brought about:  
By wit great wealth he won,  
by fortune favour came:  
With favour friends, and with the friends,  
assurance of the same.  
Of Princes ever praised  
advanced and stayed in state:  
From first to last commended much,  
in honours stool he sat.  
Beloved of Henry well,  
of Edward held as dear:  
A doubt whether son or father loved  
him best, as might appear.  
Queen Mary feel a want,  
If Pembroke were away:  
So greatly she affied him,  
whilst the did bear the sway.  
And of our peerless Queen,  
that all the rest doth pass,  
I need not write, she showed her love  
whose Steward Pembroke was.  
Sith such a noble then  
by death our daily foe,  
Is reft this realm, why do we not  
by tears our sorrows show?  
Why leave we to lament?  
why keep we in our cries?  
Why do we not power out our plaints  
by condites of the eyes?  
Our noble prince, our peers,  
both poor and rich may rue,  
And each one sorrow Pembroke dead,  
that erst him living knew,  
It joy in one respect,  
that he who lived so high,  
In honours seat his honour saved,  
and fortuned so to die.  
Which stock of noble state  
sith cruel death hath reft,  
I wish the branches long to bud,  
that of the root are left.  
And prosper so alive as did this noble tree,  
and after many happy days,  
to die as well as he.    

Finding his Mistress untrue, he exclaimeth thereat.  

Sun, cease to shine by day,  
restrain thy golden beams:  
Let stars refuse to lend their light,  
let fish renounce the streams.  
Sea, pass thy kindly bounds,  
set ebb and flood aside:  
Brass leave to grow, yet gallant plants,  
depart with all your pride.  
Bend Tiber back again,  
and to thy spring return:  
Let fiery coals begin to freeze,  
let ise and water burn.  
Wolves leave to slay the Lambs,  
hounds hunt the Hare no more:  
Be friend to fowls, ye hungry hawks  
whom ye pursued before.  
For kind hath altered course,  
the law that nature set,  
Is broken quite, her orders scorned,  
and bands in sunder fret.  
Love is accounted light,  
and friendship forced nought:  
Myself may well proclaim the same,  
that love hath dearly bought.  
I fortund once to like  
and fancy such a dame:  
As sundry served, but none atchieud  
her feature won her fante.  
Long suit and great desnet,  
with trial of my trust  
Did make her fancy me again,  
she found me pers●● just.  
But ere I felt the bliss,  
that lovers do attain  
I bode a thousead ecu●ll fic●,  
ten thousand kinds of pain.  
Till ruth by reason grew  
and rigour laid apart:  
On me she did bestow her love,  
that best deserved her heart.  
Then mirth 'gan counter prize  
the griefs I felt before:  
And if I had endured smart  
I joyed than the more.  
She passed me many voyles,  
and sundry sorts of hest:  
And swore I was the only wight  
whom she did fancy best.  
Then happy who but I,  
that did believe the same?  
As who is he that would refuse  
to credit such a dame's  
O friend when I (quoth she)  
shall alter my good will,  
And leave to love thee passing well,  
thy fancy to fulfil:  
When I for gallant gifts,  
for muck or glittering gold:  
For comely limbs of courtly knights,  
delightful to behold:  
For Ka●sars kingly crown  
thy friendship do defy:  
O Gods (quoth she) renounce me then,  
and let me monster die.  
These words and sacred vows  
might quickly credit gain:  
For who in such a case would gloze  
or go about to feign?  
Yet now for all her speech  
and glavering talk the used,  
She is revolted, and her friend  
too foully hath abused:  
Though not against her kind,  
(for Ladies are but light,)  
And soon remove but clean against  
their oaths and promise quite.  
But what should we expect  
from thorns, no Rose perdie:  
The figtrée yields a fig, on vines  
the grapes in clusters be.  
Which sith I find at last  
though greatly to my pain:  
Lo here I do defy the face  
in whom such craft doth reign.  
Farewell thou shameless shrew,  
fair Cresides heir thou art:  
And I sir Troilus erst have been,  
as proveth by my smart.  
Henceforth beguile the Greeks,  
no Trojans will thee trust:  
I yield thee up to Diomed,  
to glut his filthy lust.  
And do repute myself  
herein a blessed man.  
Who, finding such deceit in thee,  
refuse thy friendship can.  
For sundry times we see,  
the sots that serve in love,  
Can never purchase freedom, nor  
their frantic rage remove.  
But who so hath the grace  
to banish fond desire,  
I count him blest of mighty jove,  
for few or none retire.  
So sweet is sinful Just,  
the venom is so vile:  
As Circe's cup no sooner might  
the bousing Greeks beguile.  
Now hang abroad thy hooks.  
bestow thy baits elsewhere,  
Thy pleasant call shall have no power  
to lure my cunning ear.  
I tried thy twigs too much,  
my feathers felt thy lime:  
To give thee up, and shun thy shifts,  
I count it more than time.    

A warning that she be not uncourteous.  

I Choose you not to change,  
I entered band to bide:  
But plighted promise cracked by you  
I count myself untied.  
No hest is to be held,  
no vow of value, when  
You dames the collar slip:  
by craft to compass men.  
Presume not of good will,  
because I swore you love:  
For faithful friends upon abuse,  
their fancy may remove.  
Which link of love undone  
repentance comes too late:  
The fort is won when truth is slain  
and treason keeps the gate.  
No tears can purchase truce,  
no weeping wins good will:  
True love once lost by due desert,  
is not renewed by skill.  
Good meaning may not serve,  
to feed your friends withal:  
As wit in words, so truth in deeds,  
appears, and ever shall.  
Who so doth run a race,  
shall surely sweat amain  
And who so loves, shall hardly gloze  
or secret hidden pain.  
Way well my love at first  
recall to reckless thought,  
The fiery fits, the pensive pangs,  
which I full dearly bought.  
Before I took the taste,  
of what I lykte so well:  
And then consider careless; how  
to junos' yoke you fel.  
Forget not how for gain  
and muck your match was mader  
When I the while (po●re man) was forced  
a weary life to trade,  
The Lions love refused  
the noblest beast of all:  
Unto a sot you yoked yourself,  
and wox a willing thrall.  
Then who wiould force but I,  
or hold the fuel dear.  
That on another's finger fits  
and hath done many a year.  
And long is like to do,  
the hog that gapes for haws,  
That hang so fast, may groynd his tusks  
and die with empty laws.  
I speak it not of spite,  
but sure you ill deserve:  
A man that means so well as I,  
sith you do daily swerver.  
A fool by foul abuse,  
shall have you more at beck:  
Then he that ever loved you well  
and never gave you check.  
Which shows that either wit,  
or faithful love you lack:  
Beware in time, misliking grown,  
may not be bended back.  
When Cressida clapped the dish,  
and Lazerlike did go:  
She rued no doubt that erst she did,  
the Trojan handle so.  
And might she then retired,  
to beauty's ancient tower:  
She would have stuck to Priam's son,  
of faithful love the flower.  
But fond, too late she found  
that she had been too light:  
And overlate bewailed that she  
forewent the worthy knight.  
Imprint it in your breast,  
and think that Lady's lot  
May light on you, with whom your friend  
is causeless thus forgot.  
I would be loath to love,  
and leave with loss again:  
I smarted once, and you (none else)  
the ground of all my pain.  
Time tries the trusty mind,  
which time doth council me  
To deal my love by equal weight  
lest I deceived be.  
Where counsel nor advice,  
can take no better hold:  
The loss is light: for colour I  
embrace not glowing gold.  
No more I way a friend,  
for feature of her face:  
Her dealing well must hind good will,  
uprightly judge my case.  
I wholly was your own,  
and less you love aléeket  
The match betwixt us two is marred,  
and I your friend to seek.  
If any else deserve  
a share or better part:  
Let me but know your mind, and then  
adieu with all my heart.  
I sound the trumpet now,  
that warning gives to you:  
To leave to love besides myself,  
to whom the whole is due.  
I tell you this betimes,  
as one that would be loath  
By your desert to choose again,  
and break mine auncientoth.  
Which if by fortune fall,  
allow yourself the thanks:  
Whose parts unkind may force a man  
to play unfriendly pranks.    

To one whom he had long loved, and at last was refused without cause, and one embraced that least deserved it.  
Che prende diletto di far frode  
Non si delamentar, si altrile inhanna,  

If liking best with fancy firmly set,  
If loving most, with reckless care of state,  
If true good will, whom time could never fret,  
If pardoning faults, which now I rue too late,  
If good still done, and ever meant to you:  
Are not of force to make your friendships true.   

If foul abuse and terms of loath some sound,  
If mischief meant, and seldom good bestowed,  
If black defame and credit brought to ground  
If base reports so rashly spread abroad,  
Can win good will, and bind a surer band:  
Then he that loves and bears you not in hand.   

Then happy he that works your deep deray,  
And slander seeks to both your open shames,  
For he doth laugh and bear the belaway,  
Unlucky I with whom sotil it frames,  
As now at last in guerdon of my toil:  
I reap refuse and bide this second foil.   

Well may he laugh that is my deadly for,  
And I lament impatient of my pain,  
Il may she far whose craft hath caused my woe,  
And fickle faith deceived me thus again.  
But I too blame as many fowlers be.  
Who had the bird in hand and let her flee.   

More wise than you the have that feeling flame  
And once endangered of the burning blaze,  
Doth strait refuse the touching of the same,  
But you much like the guat do love to gaze,  
And flee so long about the candle light:  
As both will sear your wings and carcase quite.   

The slave that serves his prenticeship in pain  
Not half so much a wretch as wretched I,  
For he doth end his years with certain gain,  
Where I have leave the hardest hap to try,  
And hopeless quite of what by due was mine  
To groan in grief, and with my pains to pine.   

Well, well, content, sith chance and you agree  
I take my hap though clean against my will  
Enforced by you my faith and friend I flee,  
You must by kind remain a woman still,  
Who looks to have the crow to change his black  
Before it chance perchance his eyes may lack.   

Sith you can rule (as by report you may,)  
(And that to rule is it you women crave)  
Begin your reign, God grant he do obey  
That long in yoke hath kept you like a slave,  
I fear, I wish, I hope the time will be:  
When Lovedaies made for lucre will not 'gree.   

Stick fast to him who bolsters your estate,  
Forgive the faults that have been done amiss,  
Forget reports, cling closely to your mate,  
But think on him sometime that wrote you this,  
If ever chance do make your bondage free:  
God send your second choice like this to be.   

And as for him whose helping hand hath done,  
The best it might to work my cruel woe,  
I trust in time when all the thread is spun,  
Shall deeply rue that he abused me so.  
That woman's spite all other spites exceeds:  
It doth appear by both your cursed deeds.   

If my desert to him had been so ill,  
Then could I not on him have laid the blame,  
If mine abuse to you had cracked good will,  
Yours were the praise and mine the open shame,  
I loved you both, and yet do reap at last:  
But hate from both, for all my friendship past.   

1. Due volte me haiing annato.  
2. Supplicio al mondo none dato,  
Maggior, quanto pate un che inamorato.  
3. Qual lieni foglie, le doom sono, ecrude piu che tasse  
Piu che Tiger inclementi, & disdegnose,  
Piu che orse, & piu che luge empie erabbiose.  
Hanno piu inganni, che non hanno capelli in capo.  
4. O quante, arte & inganni ha il sesso feminino.  
O quanti lacci? O quanti nodi, e groppis?  
Per far huomini venir debolie zorpi.  
A lio ingrata, troppo amata.    

An Epitaph upon the death of Henry Sydhnam, and Giles Bainpfield Gentlemen.  

AS rife as to my thought repairs  
that dreatie doleful day,  
And most unlucky hour (alas)  
that hent my friend: away:  
So oft my breast is like to burst,  
and ribs to rend in swain:  
My liver and my lungs give up,  
my heart doth melt amain.  
And to decipher inward griefs  
that crush my carcase so:  
The sluices of mine eyes do slip,  
and let these humour go.  
Out flies the flood of brackish tears,  
whole seas of sorrow swell:  
In such abundance from my brain,  
as woe it is to tell.  
Why do I then conceal their names?  
what means my sluggish pen,  
To hide the haps and luckless lot  
of these two manly men.  
Sith silence breeds a smothering smart,  
where sundry times we see:  
That by disclosing of our minds  
great cares digested be.  
When fore my mournful Muse begin. etc.  
So Fortune would, the cankered Kerns,  
who seldom civil are,  
Detesting golden peace, took arms,  
and fell to frantic war.  
Up rose the rude and reckless rogues  
with dreadful darts in hand:  
And sought to noy the noble state  
of this our happy land.  
Whose bedlam rage to overrule,  
and fury to confound:  
The L. of Essex chosen was,  
a noble much renowned.  
Away he went awaited on  
of many a courtly knight:  
Whose swelling hearts had fully vowed  
to daunt their foes in fight.  
Among the rest (I rue to tell)  
my Sydnham took the seas:  
Gyles Bampfield eke aboard he leapt,  
his princes will to pleafe.  
Whose martial minds and burning breasts  
were bend to bear the broil:  
Of bloody wars, and die the death,  
or give the foe the foil.  
And triple blessed had they been,  
if fortune so had willed:  
That they with haughty sword in hand  
had died in open field.  
For fame with garland of renown  
undoubted decks his head:  
That in defence of Prince and Realm,  
his life and blood doth shed.  
But out (alas) these gallant imps  
before they came to land:  
To show their force and forward hearts,  
by dint of deadly haud.  
Before they fought amid the field,  
or looked the foe in face:  
With sudden storm in Irish stream  
were drowned, a woeful case.  
Up rose with rage a tempest huge,  
that troubled so the surge,  
As shipmen shrunk, and Pilot knew  
not how to scape the scourge.  
And yet no dread of doubtful death,  
no force of fretting foam:  
Nor wrath of weltering waves could stay,  
those martial mates at home.  
Not angry Aeols churlish chaff,  
that scoules amid the skies:  
Nor sullen Neptune's surging suds  
mought daunt their manly eyes.  
Unworthy they (O gods) to feed  
the hungry fish in flood:  
Or die so base a death as that,  
if you had thought it good.  
But what you will, of force befalls,  
your heavenly power is such,  
That where and how, and whom you lift,  
your godheds daily touch.  
And reason good, that since all  
by you was wrought and done:  
No earthly wight should have the wit  
your wreakful scourge to shun.  
Well, Sydhnam, Bampfield, and the rest,  
sith wailing doth no good:  
Nor that my tears can pay the price  
or ransom of your blood.  
Sith no devise of man can make  
that you should live again:  
Let these my plaints in verse suffice  
your souls, accept my pain.  
If ought my writing be of power  
to make your virtues known:  
According to your due deserts  
which you in life have shown.  
Assure yourselves, my mournful Muse  
shall do the best it can:  
To cause your names and noble minds,  
to live in mouth of man.  
And so adieu, my faithful friends,  
lamenting lets my quill:  
I loved you living, and in death,  
for ever so I will.  
Accept my writing in good worth,  
no fit means I find  
To do you good, now being dead,  
nor ease my mourning mind.  
No better life than you have led  
unto myself I wish:  
But happier death, if I might choose,  
than so to feed the fish.  
The gods allow my limbs a tomb  
and grave wherein to lie:  
That men may say, thrice happy he,  
that happened so to die.  
For kindly death is counted good,  
and blessed they be thought:  
That of their friends unto the pit,  
upon the beer are brought.  
But for my self, I reckon those  
more blest a thousand fold,  
That in the quarrel of their prince,  
their lives and blood have fold.  
As you mine ancient mates did mean,  
for which the mighty jove:  
In heaven shall place your souls, although  
your bones on rocks do rove.    

A letter begun to a Gentlewoman of some account, which was left of by means of the advise of a friend of his, who said she was foresped.  

YOur beauty (madame) made  
mine eye to like your fare:  
And now my heart did cause my hand,  
to sue to you for grace.  
The ground of my good wit,  
by feature first was cast,  
Which your good noble nature hath  
for ever sealed fast.  
When plants be surely pight.  
than lightly will they prove,  
No tree can take so deep a ●oote  
as grifts of faithful love.  
If I had feared disdain,  
or thought that haughty pride  
Had harboured in that breast of yours,  
which is the peacocks guide.  
Then should I not have dared  
these verses to indite,  
But weighing well your courteous kind,  
I took the heart to write.  
In hope that Venus' gifts  
are matched with Pallas goods,  
And that true friendship flowers will spring  
of blazing beauties buds.  
For seldom shall you find  
a dame of your degree:  
And of such features, but her looks  
and manners do agree.  
Which if in proof I find,  
as I presume I shall,  
Then happy others, but I count  
my fortune best of all.  
And to express my joy,  
my hands I mean to clap:  
As who would say, lo I am he  
that have this blessed hap.  
Let not my hopes be vain,  
in your hand lies my life:  
And if you list to cut my throat,  
you have the fatal knife.  
For wholly on your looks  
and mercy stays the thread  
That holds my limbs together now,  
the gods have so decreed.  
I am your bounden thrall,  
and ever mean to be:  
I will not change my choice, etc.    

To his friend not to change, though jealousy debar him her company.  

CHange not thy choice (my deer,)  
stand stable in good will,  
Let ancient faithful love appeete  
betwixt us lovers still.  
A wisdom friends to win,  
as great a wit again:  
A gotten friend, that faithful is,  
in friendship to retain.  
Thou seest how hatred hews  
the chips of our mischance:  
And jealousy doth what it may,  
the Viper to advance.  
Whose prying eyes are priest  
to hinder our intent  
But malice oft doth miss his mark,  
where two good wills be bend.  
So careful Argus kept,  
the fair well featured cow:  
Whose watchful eyes fol soldome slept,  
according to his vow.  
And yet at length he lost  
his head, and eke his hire:  
For Mercury his cunning crossed,  
to further Ioues desire.  
So cursed Acrisius closed  
the maiden in the mewe  
Where he assuredly supposed  
to keep the virgin true.  
Yet Danac did conceive  
within the secret tower:  
And did in lap receive the god,  
that fell in golden shower.  
Way what good will he bears,  
that lives in such distrust:  
He fares as doth the wretch that fears  
his gold, and lets it rust.  
Whose hungry heaping mind  
for all his looking on:  
Is oft abused, and made as blind  
as any marble stone.  
I crave but your consent,  
when time and place agree:  
And that you will be well content  
to yield yourself to me.  
Who ever will regard,  
the honour of your name:  
And look what pleasure may be spared,  
will only crave the same.  
No check shall taint your chéekt,  
by proof of open act:  
I never will unwisely seek,  
to have your credit crack.  
My love excels his lust.  
my fancy his good will:  
My truth doth far surmount his trust  
my good deserts his ill.  
Wherefore (my dear) consent  
unto my just request:  
For I long sith have loved you well,  
and ever meant you best.  
So shall you have my heart,  
still ready at your call:  
You cannot play a wiser part  
then cherish such a thrall.    

To his friend not to forget him.  

WHere liking grows of lust,  
it cannot long endure:  
But where we find it grafted on love,  
there friend ships force is sure.  
Where wealth procures good will,  
when substance slides away  
There fancy altars all by fits,  
and true love doth decay.  
Where beauty binds the band,  
and feature forceth love.  
With crooked age or changed face,  
there friendship doth remove.  
No one of these (my dear)  
that fickle thus do fade:  
Did bend my breast, or forced thy friend  
to follow Cupid's trade,  
But mere good will in deed  
not grafted on hope of gain:  
I loved without regard of lust  
as proof hath taught you plain.  
I way no wavering wealth  
I force not of thy face:  
No grant of pleasure pricks me on  
thy person to embrace.  
No hope of after hap,  
engenders my good will:  
I loved thee when I saw thee first,  
and so I love thee still  
Wherefore requite with care  
the man that means you so:  
It lies in you to yield him ease,  
or plague his heart with woe.  
You were not bred of rocks,  
no marble was your meat:  
I trust I shall so good a dame,  
to love me best entreat.  
You know I bear the blame,  
yourself are nothing free:  
He loves me not for loving you,  
nor you for loving me.  
Consider of the case  
and like where you are loved:  
It is against your kid to please  
where you are so reproved,  
His friendship is in doubt,  
you stand assured of me:  
He hates us both, I cannot love,  
the man that hateth thee.  
His frantic words of late,  
bewrayed his folly plain:  
Assure yourself he loves you not,  
his glozing is for gain.  
Which purpose being brought,  
to his desired pass:  
The sot will show himself a beast,  
and prove a wayward Ass.  
By reason rule his rage,  
by wisdom master will:  
Embrace your friend in spite of him,  
that means you no good wil  
A time in time may come,  
if gods will have it so:  
When we each other shalinjoy,  
to quite each others woe.  
Which time if time agree,  
to pleasure us withal:  
Our honey will the sweeter seem  
that we have tasted gall.  
Till when use woman's wit  
therein you know my mind:  
I never was, nor never will  
be found your friend unkind.    

A vow of Constancy.  

FIrst shall the raging floods  
against their course run:  
By day the moon shall lend her light,  
by night the golden sun.  
First fickle fortune shall  
stand at a steady stay:  
And in the sea the shining stars  
shall move and keep their way.  
First Fish amid the air,  
shall wander to and fro:  
The clouds be clear, in beauty eke  
the coal exceed the snow.  
First kind shall alter all  
and change her wont state:  
The blind stall see, the deaf shall hear,  
the dumb shall freely prate.  
Before that any chance,  
or let that may arise  
shallbe of force to wrest my love  
or quench in any wise.  
The flame of my good will,  
and faithful fancy's fire:  
Save cruel death shall nothing daunt,  
or cool my hot desire,  
Desire that guides my life  
and yields my heart his food:  
Wherefore to be in presence still,  
with thee, would do me good  
Which presence I presume  
thou never wilt deny:  
But as occasion serves,  
so thou to friendship wilt apply.  
Till when I give thee up,  
to good and happy chance:  
In hope that time to our delights,  
will seek us to advance.  
Adieu (dear friend) to thee,  
that art my only joy:  
More fair to me then Helen was  
to Priam's son of Troy.  
And constant more in love,  
than was Ulysses make  
Of whose assured life and zeal,  
so much the Poets spoke  
Less light than Lucrece eke  
whom Tarquin's lust defiled:  
As courteous as the Carthage Queen,  
that foully was beguiled.  
To quite all which good parts,  
this vow I make to thee:  
I will be thine as long as I  
have power mine own to be.    

Another Epitaph upon the death of Henry Sydhnam, and Gyles Bampfield gent.  

IF tears might aught avail to stint my woe  
If sobbing sighs breathed out from pensive breast  
Can ease the griping griefs that pain me so  
Or pleasure them for whom I am distressed  
Neither would I stick with tears to fret my face:  
Nor spare to spewed redoubled sighs apace.   

But sith neither dreary drops nor sighs have power  
To do me good, or stand my friends in steed  
Why should I seek with forowes to devour  
Those humours that my fainting limbs should feed.  
Bootless it were therefore I will assay  
To show myself a friend some other way.   

Some other way, as by my mourning pen,  
To do the world to wit what wights they were  
Whose deaths I wail, what friendly forward men  
And to this land they both did bear  
Alas, I rue to name them in my verse:  
Whose only thought my trembling heart doth pierce.   

But yet I must of force their names unfold,  
(For things concealed are seldom when bewailed,  
Tone Sydnham was, a manly wight and bold.  
In whom neither courage baute, nor feature failed,  
Faithful to friends undaunted to his foes  
A lamb in love, where be to fancy chose.   

The second near unto myself allied,  
Gyles Bamfield hight. (I weep to write his name,)  
A gallant imp, amid his youthful pride:  
Whose seemly shape commended nature's frame.  
decked of the gods in cradle where he lay:  
With lovely limbs, and parts of purest clay.   

Themselves might boast their births for gentle blood  
The houses are of countenance whence they came  
And vaunt I dare their virtues rare as good,  
As was their race and fitted to the same.  
There wanted nought to make them perfect blessed:  
Save happy deaths which clouded all the rest.   

When rascal irish happened to rebel,  
(Who seld we see do long continue true)  
Unto the Lord of Esser lot it fell.  
To have the lot those outlaws to subdue.  
Who went away to please the Prince and state:  
A ●●●ded on of many a doughty mate.   

Whose names although my dreary quill conceal,  
Yet they (I trust) will take it well in worth  
For noble minds employed to common weal,  
Shall find a stem to blaze their prows forth.  
My doleful muse but this alone intends:  
To write and wail, my friends unhappy ends.   

Away they would, and gave their last adieu,  
With burning hearts to slay the savage foe,  
Bestride their steads, and to the sea they flew,  
Where weather rose, and water raged so,  
As they (alas) who mean their country good,  
Were forced to lose their lives in Irish flood.   

Those eyes should have looked the foe in face,  
Were then constrained to wink at every wave,  
Those valiant arms the ●illowes did embrace,  
That vowed with sword this reaims renown to save:  
Those manly minds that dreaded no mishap,  
Were soused in seas, and caught in sudden trap.   

Proud Eole Prince, controller of the winds,  
With churlish Neptune, sovereign of the ●e●s,  
Did play their parts, and showed their stubborn kinds,  
Whom no request nor prayer might appease,  
The Tooyan Duke bid not so great a brunt,  
When he of yore for Laume land did hunt.   

And yet these wights committed none offence,  
To juno, as sir Paris did of yore,  
Their only travel was for our defence,  
Which makes me wail their sudden deaths the more,  
But what the Gods do purpose to be done,  
By proof we see, man's wisdom cannot shun.   

Ye water Nymphs, and you that Ladies be,  
Of more remorse, and of a milder mood:  
Than Neptune or king Eole, if you see  
Their baleful bodies d●●uing on the flood,  
Take up their limbs, allowing them a grave,  
Who well deserved a richer hearse to have.   

Whereon do stamp this small device in stone,  
That passers by, may read with dewed eyes,  
When they by chance shall chance to light thereon.   

Lo Sydhnam here, and Bampfields' body lies:  
Whose willing hearts to serve their prince and realm,  
Shortened their lives amid this wrathful stream.   
Ante obitum, supremáque funera fo●lix.  
Deo iubente, fato cedunt mortalia.   

A lover deceived, exclaims against the deceiver and her kind.  

HOw much a wretch is he  
that doth affy so well  
In woman's words, and in her heart  
doth lodge his love to dwell:  
believes hir-outward glee.  
and tickle terms to trust,  
And doth without regard of time,  
apply to woman's lust?  
Sith that her wandering will,  
and most unstable mind:  
Doth daily toss and turn about,  
as leaves amid the wind.  
Who loathes her most, she loves,  
and him that sues for grace,  
She sharply shuns, and proudly scorns,  
and ebbs and flows apace.  
¶ O gods what have I done?  
alas, at length I spy:  
My former follies, and discern  
how much I marched awry.  
To plant assured trust,  
in tickle woman's breast:  
That Tygerlike sance mercy lives,  
and ever shuns the best.  
And yet she knows I love,  
and how I waste away:  
And that my heart may have no rest,  
nor quiet night or day.  
Which sith to her is known,  
and how I hold her chief:  
Why cruel and unkind, doth she  
not pity of my grief?  
¶ Who is so perfect wise,  
that may such malice brook,  
Of woman's proud disdain,  
or bear their brawls with quiet look?  
Without an open show  
of loathsome lurking smart:  
That racks the ribs, that beats the breast,  
and plagues the pensive heart.  
O me unhappy wight,  
most woeful wretch of all,  
How do I lose my liberty,  
and yield myself a thrall.  
In serving her, that clean  
against all law and right:  
Consumes my life, destroys my days,  
and robs my reason quite.  
O love, cut off her course,  
and bridle such a dame:  
As scorns thy skill, and leaves thy laws,  
and makes my grief her game.  
If (as I deem) thou be,  
the sovereign of the skies:  
Of Elements and Nature eke,  
that all in order ties.  
Wreak both thy wrong sustamd,  
and eke thy damage done  
To me, on her, whom flatly thou,  
perceivest us both to shun.  
Convert her frozen heart,  
to coals of scalding fire  
Where rigour reigns, and envy dwells,  
with poisoned wrathful ire.  
¶ She, cruel, knows my love,  
and how as Saint, I shrine  
Her beauty in my breast,  
and how with piercing pains I pine:  
And how a thousand times,  
each day I die, she knows,  
Yet merciless, no mercy she,  
nor sign of sorrow shows.  
She bond me to the stake,  
to broil amid the brands:  
At point to die a Martyr's death,  
all which she understands.  
Yea, though she know it well,  
yet she conceives a joy:  
At all my bitter grief, and glads  
herself with mine annoy.  
O most disloyal dame,  
O bloody breasted wight:  
O thou, that hast consumed by care,  
my heart and courage quite.  
O thou for treason that  
jugurtha, and the jew  
Dost far excel, and from thy friend,  
withholdst thy favour dew.  
O traitorous of thy troth,  
of all good nature bare:  
Lo here of my poor wounded heart,  
the gash cut in by care.  
I see thou seest my sore,  
and yet thou wilt be blind:  
Thou stopst thine ears, and wilt not hear  
the griefs that I do find.  
¶ Where is become thy love,  
and ancient great good will:  
That erst was borne: where's that desire  
that forced thee to fulfil  
Thy pleasures passed with me  
in cabin where we lay?  
What is become of those delights?  
where is that sugared play?  
Where's all that dalliance now,  
and proffers proudly made?  
Where's those embracings friendly,  
where is that blessed trade  
And signs of perfect love,  
which then thou putst in ure?  
And which for any gift of mine,  
mought yet right well endure.  
¶ Full shadowlike they shift,  
and can no longer bide:  
Like dust before the wind they fly,  
your other mate doth guide.  
And strikes so great a stroke,  
he wrists your wits as round  
As flittering leaves, that from the Ash  
or pine are shaken dowue.  
Full lightly woman's love,  
is altered evermore:  
It may not last, there is exchange  
continually in store.  
And reason: For by kind  
a woman is but light,  
Which makes that fancy from her breast,  
is apt to take her flight.  
¶ I had good hope at first,  
when hap did me assure,  
To like of thee, that this thy love,  
was planted to endure.  
I never feared a fall,  
on ground that lay so green:  
Where path was plain for me to pass,  
and bottom to be seen.  
I doubted no decay,  
nor feard-no after smart:  
Thy beauty did me not despair,  
thy looks assured thy heart.  
But who believes the looks  
of any of your race,  
May soon deceive himself,  
There lies no credit in the face.  
Well, sith thy froward mind,  
doth like to hear my moan:  
And mine unhappy planet gives  
consent, that I alone,  
Without thy love shall live,  
and lack the lamp of light:  
To clear mine eyes, that far excels  
all other stars in sight.  
Unto the haughty skies,  
and people here below:  
I will my griping griefs express,  
and surge of sorrows show.  
In hope that direful death,  
with dreadful dart of force:  
Will couch my carease in the grave,  
and there convey my corpse.   

Yet ere I die, receive this Swanlike song,  
To ease my heart, and show thine open wrong.    


O Wavering woman's will,  
that bends so soon about:  
Why dost thou so revolt in haste,  
and shutst thy friend without.  
Against the law of love,  
O thrice unhappy he:  
That doth believe thy beauty's beams,  
and looks of gallant glee.  
For neither thraldom long,  
that I poor wight abode:  
Nor great good will by sundry signs,  
and outward gesture showed.  
Had force to hold thy heart,  
and keep thee at a stay:  
No good desert of mine might stop  
that would of force away.  
Yet of this cruel lot,  
and fell mischance, I find  
Nor know no cause, but that thou art  
sprung out of woman's kind.  
I judge that Nature, and  
the Gods that govern all  
devised this wicked shameless sect  
to plague the earth withal.  
A mischief for us men,  
a burden bad to bear:  
Without whose match too happy we,  
and too too blessed were.  
Even as the Bears are bread,  
the Serpent and the Snake.  
The barking Wolf, the filthy fly  
that noisome flesh doth make.  
The stinking weed to smell  
that grows among the grain:  
Even so I think the Gods have made  
your race us men to pain.  
Why did not kind foresee  
and nature so devise  
That man of man without the help,  
of woman mought arise?  
As by the art of hand  
of apples apples spring:  
And as the pearetrée grafted by kind  
another pear doth bring.  
But if you mark it well,  
the cause is quickly seen:  
It is for that thou Nature art  
a woman though a Queen.  
O dames I would not wish  
you peacocklike to look  
Or puffed with pride to vaunt that man  
of you his being took.  
For on the briar oft  
a gallant Rose doth grow  
And of a stinking wéde an herb  
or flower fresh to show.  
Ye are excessive proud,  
stuffed up with stately spite:  
Void of good love, of loyal truth  
and all good counsel quite.  
Rash, cruel causeless, cursed,  
unkind without desert  
Borne only for the scourge of him  
that bears a faithful heart.  
I rather wish to die,  
then live a vassal still  
Or thrall myself unto a dame  
that yields me no good wil  
The worms shall sooner feed  
upon my happy heart:  
Within my grave, than I for love  
of you will suffer smart.  
Adieu dear dames,  
the ghastly ghosts of hell  
Shall plague your bones  
that gloze and love not well.    

To his cruel mistress.  

Give losers leave to speak,  
let him that feels the smare  
Without controlment tell his tale,  
to ease his heavy heart.  
To thee (proud dame) I point,  
who like the beast of Nile:  
By tears procurest thy friend to love  
and slayest him all the while.  
By weeping first to win  
and after conquest made  
To spoil with spite those yielding imps  
that follow Cupid's trade.  
Condemns thy cankered kind,  
more glory were for thee  
To ransack none but rebel hearts  
and let the rest go free.  
Kind witted not what she wrought  
when she such beauty lent  
Unto those gallant limbs of thine  
to monstrous mischief bend.  
For either fouler face  
she would have yielded thee:  
Or better mood and milder mind  
to make remorse of me.  
Thou bearest two burning brands,  
below those brows of thine:  
And I the brimstone in my breast,  
which makes my heart to pine.  
Each lowering look of yours,  
Irets farther in my heart:  
And nips me nearer than  
the force of any other dart.  
And to increase my care,  
thou makest thy beauty more:  
An oil (God wot) unto my fire,  
no salve to ease my sore.  
If thou a woman were,  
of ruth and due remorse:  
Thou wouldst allow me love,  
and not so proudly plague my corpse,  
I sue for mercy now,  
with hands lift up on high  
Which if I miss I am assured,  
within few days to die.  
And if I may not have  
the thing I would enjoy:  
I pray the Gods to plague thee  
as they did the dame of Troy.  
I mean that Creside coy  
that linked her with a Greek:  
And left the lusty Trojan Duke,  
of all his love to seek.  
And so they will I trust  
a mirror make of thee:  
That beauty's darlings may beware  
when they thy scourge shall see.  
I never meant thee well,  
in all my life before:  
But now to plague thy foul abuse,  
I hate thee ten times more.  
For reason wills me so,  
my friends to love and serve  
And cruel Ladies like thyself,  
to wish as they deserve.  
Henceforth if any limb,  
of mine perhaps rebel:  
And thee whom I of right should loath  
do love or fancy well.  
I quite renounce the same  
he shall no more be mine  
To use or stand in stead, than I  
do purpose to be thine.  
And thus I make an end  
of love, and lines at once  
The frounce consume the flesh of her,  
that feeds upon my bones.    

The Author being in moscovia, writeth to certain his friends in England of the state of the place, not exactly, but at all adventures, and minding to have describe all the Moscovites manners, broke off his purpose upon some occasion.  
The three Epistles follow.  

To his especial friend, master Edward Dancie.  

My Dancie dear, when I  
recount within my breast:  
My London friends and wont mates  
and thee above the rest.  
I feel a thousand fits  
of deep and deadly woe:  
To think that I from sea to land,  
from bliss to bale did go.  
I left my native soil,  
full like a reckless man  
And unacquainted of the coast,  
among the Russies ran.  
A people passing rude,  
to vices vile inclined:  
folk fit to be of Bacchus' train,  
so quaffing is their kind.  
Drink is their whole desire,  
the pot is all their pride:  
The soberest head doth once a day,  
stand needful of a guide.  
If he to banquet bid his friends,  
he will not shrink  
On them at dinner to bestow  
a dozen kinds of drink.  
Such liquor as they have  
and as the country gives:  
But chiefly two, one called Kuas,  
whereby the Music lives.  
Small ware and waterlike  
but somewhat tart in taste:  
The rest is Meade, of honey made  
wherewith their lips they baste.  
And if he go unto  
his neighbour as a guest:  
He cares for little meat, if so  
his drink be of the best.  
Perhaps the Mausick hath  
a gay and gallant wife:  
To serve his beastly lust yet he  
will lead a bowgards' life.  
The monster more desires  
a boy within his bed  
Then any wench, such filthy sin  
ensues a drunken head.  
The woman to repay,  
her drowsy husband's debts:  
From stinking stove unto her mate  
to bawdy banquet gets.  
No wonder though they use  
such vile and beastly trade:  
Sith with the hatchet and the hand,  
their chiefest Gods be made.  
Their Idols have their hearts  
on God they never call:  
Unless it be (Nichola Bough)  
that hangs against the wall.  
The house that hath no God,  
or painted saint within:  
Is not to be resorted to,  
that roof is full of sin.  
Besides their private Gods,  
in open places stand  
Their crosses, unto which they crouch,  
and bless themselves with hand.  
Devoutly down they duck,  
with forehead to the ground:  
Was never more deceit in rags,  
and greasy garments found.  
Almost the meanest man  
in all the country rides:  
The woman eke against our use,  
her trotting horse bestrides.  
In sundry colours they  
both men and women go:  
In buskins all, that money have  
on buskins to bestow.  
Each woman hanging hath  
a ring within her ear:  
Which all of ancient use, and some  
of very pride do wear.  
Their gate is very grave,  
their countenance wise and sad:  
And yet they follow fleshly lusts,  
their trade of living bad.  
It is no shame at all,  
accounted to destle  
Another's bed, they make no care  
their follies to concile.  
Is not the meanest man  
in all the land, but he  
To buy her painted colours doth  
allow his wife a fee.  
Wherewith she decks herself,  
and dies her tawny skin:  
She pranks and paints her smoky face,  
both brow, lip, cheek and chin.  
Yea those that honest are  
(if any such there ye)  
Within the land, do use the like,  
a man may plainly see.  
Upon some women's cheeks  
the painting how it lies:  
In plaster sort, for that too thick  
her face the harlot dies.  
But such as skilful are,  
and cunning dames in deed:  
By daily practice do it well,  
yea sure they do exceed.  
They lay their colours so,  
as he that is full wise:  
May easily be deceived therein,  
if he do trust his eyes.  
I not a little muse  
what madness makes them pain  
Their faces, weighing how they keep  
the stove by mere constraint.  
For seldom when, unless  
on church or marriage day.  
A man shall see the dames abroad  
that are of best array.  
The Russie means to reap  
the profit of her pride:  
And so he mews her, to be sure  
she lie by no man's side.  
Thus much (friend Dancie)  
I did mean to write to thee:  
To let thee wit, in Russia land,  
what men and women he.  
Hereafter I perhaps  
of other things will write:  
To thee and other of my friends,  
which I shall see with sight.  
And other fluff besides,  
which true report shall tell:  
Mean while I end my loving lives,  
and bid thee now farewell.    

To Spencer.  

IF I should now forget  
or not remember thee:  
Thou (Spencer) mightst a foul rebuke  
and shame impute to me.  
For I to open show  
did love thee passing well:  
And thou were he; at parture whom  
I loathed to bid farewell.  
And as I went thy friend,  
so I continue still:  
No better proof thou canst desire  
than this, of true good will.  
I do remember well  
when needs I should away:  
And that the post would licence us,  
no longer time to stay.  
Thou wroongst me by the fist,  
and holding fast my hand:  
Didst crave of me to send thee news,  
and how I liked the land.  
It is a sandy soil,  
no very fruitful vain:  
More waste and woody grounds there are  
than closes fit for grain.  
Yet grain there growing is,  
which they untimely take:  
And cut or ere the corn be ripe,  
they mow it on a stake.  
And laying sheaf by sheaf,  
their harvest so they dry:  
They make the greater haste.  
for fear the frost the corn destrie.  
For in the winter time,  
so glarie is the ground:  
As neither grass nor other grain  
in pastures may be found.  
In comes the cattle then,  
the sheep, the colt, the cow:  
Fast by his bed the Mawsicke  
then a lodging doth allow.  
Whom he with fodder feeds,  
and holds as dear as life:  
And thus they wear the Winter with  
the Mowsicke and his wife.  
Eight months the Winter dures,  
the glare it is so great:  
As it is May before he turn  
his ground to sow his wheat.  
The bodies eke that die,  
unburied lie till then:  
Laid up in coffins made of fir,  
as well the poorest men.  
As those of greater state,  
the cause is lightly found:  
For that in winter time  
they cannot come to break the ground.  
And wood so plenteous is  
quite throughout all the land:  
As rich and poor at time of death,  
assured of coffins stand.  
Perhaps thou musest much,  
how this may stand with reason:  
That bodies dead, can uncorrupt,  
abide so long a season.  
Take this for certain troth,  
as soon as heat is gone:  
The force of cold the body binds  
as hard as any stone.  
Without offence at all,  
to any living thing:  
And so they lie in perfect state,  
till next return of spring.  
Their beasts be like to ours,  
as far as I can see:  
For shape and show, but somewhat less  
of bulk and bone they be.  
Of waterish taste, the flesh not firm,  
like English beef:  
And yet it serves them very well,  
and is a good relief.  
Their sheep are very small,  
sharp singled, handful long:  
Great store of fowl on sea and land,  
the moorish reeds among.  
The greatness of the store  
doth make the prices less:  
Besides, in all the land they know  
not how good meat to dress.  
They use neither broach nor spit,  
but when the stove they heat,  
They put their victuals in a pan,  
and so they bake their meat.  
No pewter to be had,  
no dishes but of wood:  
No use of trenchers, cups  
cut out of birch are very good.  
They use but wooden spoons,  
which hanging in a case:  
Each Mowsike at his girdle ties,  
and thinks it no disgrace.  
With whittles two or three,  
the better man the me.  
The chiefest Russies in the land,  
with spoon and knives do go.  
Their houses are not huge  
of building, but they say  
They plant them in the loftiest ground  
to shift the snow away.  
Which in the Winter time  
each where full thick doth lie:  
Which makes them have the more desire  
to set their houses hie.  
No stone work is in use,  
their roofs of rafters be:  
One linked in another fast,  
their walls are all of tree.  
Of masts both long and large,  
with moss put in between,  
To keep the force of weather out,  
I never erst have séeve.  
A gross devise so good,  
and on the roof they lay:  
The burden bark, to rid the rain  
and sudden showers away.  
In every room a (stove)  
to serve the winter turn:  
Of wood they have sufficing store,  
as much as they can burn.  
They have no English glass,  
of slices of a rock:  
hight Sluda, they their windows make,  
that English glass doth mock.  
They cut it very thin,  
and sow it with a thread,  
In pretty order like to panes,  
to serve their present need.  
No other glass good faith  
doth give a better light:  
And sure the rock is nothing rich,  
the cost is very slight.  
The chiefest place is that  
where hangs the God by it:  
The owner of the house himself,  
doth never use to sit.  
Unless his better come,  
to whom he yields the seat:  
The stranger bending to the god,  
the ground with brow must beat.  
And in that very place,  
which they most sacred deem:  
The stranger lies a token that  
his guest he doth esteem.  
Where he is wont to have  
a bears skin for his bed:  
And must in stead of pillow  
clap his saddle to his head.  
In Russia other shift  
there is not to be had:  
For where the bedding is not good,  
the bolsters are but bad.  
I mused very much  
what made them so to lie  
Sith in their country down is rife,  
and feathers out of cry.  
Unless it be because  
the country is so hard:  
They fear by niceness of a bed,  
their bodies would be marred.  
I wished thee oft with us,  
save that I stood in fear  
Thou wouldst have loathed to have laid,  
thy limbs upon a bear  
As I and Stafford did,  
that was my make in bed:  
And yet we thank the God of heaven,  
we both right well have sped.  
Lo thus I make an end,  
none other news to thee:  
But that the country is too cold  
the people beastly be.  
I writ not all I know,  
I touch but here and there  
For if I should, my pen would pinch,  
and eke offend I fear.  
Who so shall read this verse,  
contecture of the rest:  
And think by reason of our trade  
that I do think the best.  
But if no traffic were,  
than could I boldly pen  
The hardness of the soil,  
and eke the manners of the men.  
They say the lions paw  
gives judgement of the beast:  
And so may you deem of the great  
by reading of the least.    

To Parker.  

MY Parker, paper, pen  
and ink were made to write,  
And idle heads that little do,  
have leisure to indite  
Wherefore respecting these,  
and thine assured love,  
If I would write no news to thee  
thou mightst my pen reprove.  
And sithence fortune thus,  
hath showed my ship from shore:  
And made me seek another Realm  
unseen of me before.  
The manners of the men,  
I purpose to declare  
And other private points beside,  
which strange and geason are.  
The Russie men are round  
of bodies, fully fast  
The greatest part with bellies big,  
that overhang the waist.  
Flat headed for the most,  
with faces nothing fair.  
But brown by reason of the stove,  
and closeness of the air.  
It is their common use,  
to shave or else to shear,  
Their heads: for none in all the land,  
long lolling locks do we are.  
Unless perhaps he have  
his sovereign Prince displeased  
For then he never eves his hear,  
until he be appeased.  
A certain sign to know  
who in displeasure be:  
For every man that bewes his head  
will say, lo this is he.  
And during all the time,  
he lets his locks to grow:  
Dares no man for his life,  
to him a face of friendship show.  
Their garments be not gay,  
nor handsome to the eye?  
A cap aloft their heads they have  
that standeth very high.  
Which (Colpack) they do term  
they wear no ruffs at all  
The best have collars set with pearl  
Rubasca they do call.  
Their shirts in Russie long  
they work them down before  
And on the sleeves with coloured silks,  
two inches good or more.  
Aloft their shirts they wear  
a garment iocket wise  
height Onoriadka, and about  
his burly waist he ties  
His Portkies, which in stead,  
of better breeches be.  
Of linen cloth that garment is  
no codpiece is to see  
A pair of yornen stocks  
to keep the cold away:  
Within his boots the Russie wears,  
the heels they underlay.  
With clouting clamps of steel,  
sharp pointed at the toes:  
And over all a Suba furde,  
and thus the Russie goes.  
Well buttoned is the Sube  
according to his state  
Some silk, of silver other some  
but those of poorest rate  
Do wear no Subes at all  
but grosser gowns to sight:  
That reacheth down beneath the calf,  
and that Armacha hight.  
These are the Russies robes,  
the richest use to ride  
From place to place, his servant runs  
and follows by his side.  
The Cassock bears his felt,  
to force away the rain:  
Their bridles are not very brave,  
their saddles are but plain.  
No bits, but snaffels all,  
of byrche their saddles be:  
Much fashioned like the Scottish seats,  
broad flaxes to keep the knee.  
From sweeting of the horse,  
the panels larger far  
And broader be than ours  
they use short stirrups for the war,  
For when the Russie is  
pursued by cruel foe  
He rides away, and suddenly,  
betakes him to his bow.  
And bends me but about  
in saddle as he sits  
And therewithal amid his race,  
his following foe he hits.  
Their bows are very short,  
like Turkey bows outright:  
Of sinews made with birchen bark,  
in cunning manner dight.  
Small arrows, cruel heads,  
that fell and forked be:  
Which being shot from out those bows  
a cruel ways will flee.  
They seldom shoe their borse,  
unless they use to ride  
In post upon the fooyen floods,  
than cause they shall not slide  
He sets a slender calk,  
and so he rides his way●  
The horses of the tountrey go,  
good fourscore veorsts a 〈◊〉  
And all without the spur  
once prick them and they skip,  
But go not forward on their way.  
the Russie hath his whip  
To rap him on the ribs  
for though all booted be  
Yet shall you not a pair of spurs  
in all the country sie,  
The common game is chess  
almost the simplest will  
Both give a check and eke a mate,  
by practice comes their skill.  
Again the dice as fast,  
the poorest rogues of all  
Will sit them down in open field  
and there to gaming fall.  
Their dice are very small,  
in fashion like to those  
Which we do use, he takes them up,  
and over thumb he throws,  
Not shaking them●a whit,  
they cast suspiciously:  
And yet I deem them void of art,  
that dicing most apply.  
At plaxe when silver lacks,  
goes saddle, horse and all:  
And each thing else worth silver walks,  
although the price be small.  
Because thou lovest to play,  
friend Parker, otherwhile  
I wish thee there, the weary day,  
with dicing to beguile.  
But thou were better far  
at home, I witted it well  
And wouldst been loath among such louts  
so long a time to dwell.  
Then judge of us thy friends,  
what kind of life we had.  
That near the frozen pole to waste  
our weary days were glad.  
In such a savage soil,  
where laws do bear no sway  
But all is at the King his will,  
to save or else to slay.  
And that sans cause God wots,  
if so his mind be such  
But what mean I with kings to dealt  
we ought no Saints to touch.  
Conceive the rest yourself,  
and deem what lives they lead:  
Where lust is law, and subjects live  
continually in dread.  
And where the best estates,  
have none assurance good  
Of lands, of lives, nor nothing falls  
unto the next of blood.  
But all of custom doth  
unto the Prince redound:  
And all the whole revenue comes  
unto the king his crown,  
Good faith I see thee muse,  
at what I tell thee now  
But true it is, no choice  
but all at Prince's pleasure bow.  
So Tarquin ruled Rome,  
as thou remember'st well:  
And what his fortune was at last,  
I know thyself canst tell.  
Where will in common weal,  
doth bear the only sway.  
And lust is law, the prince and realm  
must needs in time decay.  
The strangeness of the place is such  
for sundry things I see:  
As if I would, I cannot write  
each private point to thee.  
The cold is rare, the people rude,  
the prince so full of pride:  
The realm so stored with monks & nuns,  
and priests on every side.  
The manners are so Turkylike,  
the men so full of guile:  
The women wanton, temples stuffed  
with idols that destle.  
The seats that sacred aught to be,  
the customs are so acquaint:  
As if I would describe the whole,  
I fear my pen would faint.  
In sum I say, I never saw  
a prince that so did reign:  
Nor people so beset with Saints,  
yet all but vile and vain.  
Wild Irish are as civil as  
the Russies in their kind:  
Hard choice which is the best of both,  
each bloody rude, and blind.  
If thou be wise, as wise thou art,  
and wilt be ruled by me:  
Live still at home, and covet not,  
those barbarous coasts to see.  
No good befalls a man that seeks,  
and finds no better place:  
No civil customs to be learned,  
where God bestows no grace.  
And truly ill they do deserve,  
to be beloved of God:  
That neither love, nor stand in awe  
of his assured rod.  
Which (though be long) yet plagues at last  
the vile and beastly sort  
Of sinful wights, that all in vice  
do place their chiefest sport.  
Adieu friend Parker, if thou list,  
to know the Russies well:  
To Sigismundus book repair,  
who all the truth can tell.  
For he long erst in message went,  
unto that savage king:  
Sent by the Pole, and true report  
in each respect did bring.  
To him I recommend myself,  
to ease my pen of pain:  
And now at last do wish thee well,  
and bid farewell again.     

To his friend Nicholas Roscarock, to induce him to take a wife.  

ROscarocke, sith my raging prime is past,  
And riper age with reasons learned lore,  
Well stayed hath my wits that went so saft,  
And cooled the heat that hent my breast of yore:  
I cannot choose but write some solemn stuff,  
For thee to read, when thou art in thy ruff.   

I see thee muse what should the matter be,  
Whereof I mean to treat, thou bitest thy lip,  
And bendst thy brow as though I were not he  
That had a trick my Cornish friend to trip:  
Well, to be short, it toucheth marriage vow,  
An order which myself have entered now.   

A sacred yoke, a state of much praise,  
A blessed band, belikt of God and man,  
And such a life, as if in former days  
I had but known, as now commend I can,  
Good faith I would not wasted so my prime,  
In wanton wise, and spent an idle time.   

An idle time, as sundry gallants use,  
I mean my London mates, that tread the street,  
And golden wits with fond conceits abuse,  
And base devices far for such unméet.  
Leaving the law, and casting books aside,  
Whereby in time you mought your country's guide.   

Your daily practice is to beat the bush,  
Where beauties birds do lodge themselves to lie:  
You shoot at shapes and faces dear a rush,  
And bend your bows, your feeble strengths to try.  
Of closure you sometimes do common make,  
And where you list, abroad your pleasures take.   

You count it but a game to graff the horn  
That inward grows, and seldom shows without:  
The silly man you scoff and laugh to scorn,  
And for his patience deem him but a lout.  
By day you gaze upon your Lady's looks,  
By night you gad to hang your baited hooks.   

Thus do you lavish frolic youth away,  
With idle words not worth a parched pease,  
And like to wanton colts that run astray,  
You leap the pale, and into every lease.  
Where fit far it were to marry wives,  
And well disposed to lead more sober lives.   

Revolt in time, lest time repentance bring,  
Let each enjoy his lawful wedded mate,  
Or else be sure, yourselves in time shall sing  
The self-same note, and rue your harms too late.  
For commonly the wrong that we intend,  
Lights on our heads and shoulders in the end.   

Perhaps thou wouldst as willing wedded be,  
As I myself and many other more:  
But that thou canst no perfect beauty see,  
For which thou wilt thy single life forego.  
Both young & fair, with wealth & goods thou seekst,  
Such one she is, whom thou Roscarocke léekst.   

Be ruled by me, let giddy fancy go,  
Embrace a wife, with wealth and coin enough:  
Force not the face, regard not feature so,  
And aged grandam that maintains the plough.  
And brings thee bags, is worth a thousand peats,  
That prank their pates & live by Spanish meats.   

That one contents herself with now and than,  
Right glad if she might sit at Venus' mess  
Once in the month, the youthful Damsel can  
Not so be pleased, her rage must have redress,  
As oft as pleasure pricks her limbs to lust,  
Else all the matter lies amid the dust.   

Wherefore I judge the best and wisest way  
Were wife to wed, and leave to range at will,  
In married life there is assured stay,  
Where otherwise to follow every Gill,  
Breeds wrack of wealth, of credit, ease, and bliss,  
And makes men run their races quite amiss.   
Experto credere tutum est.   

A gentlewoman's excuse for executing unlawful parts of love.  

Erst Sylla took no shame, for Minos' sake  
Her father Nysus purple pate to shear,  
Medea for the love of jason broke  
The bands of kind, and slew her brother dear,  
forewent her worthy Sire, and kingly crown,  
And followed him the rover up and down.   

For Theseus when in Labyrinth he lay  
In dread of death, the monster was so nigh,  
Fair Ariadna did devise a way  
To save his life, unless that Ovid lie,  
And yet the beast, her brother was in deed,  
(Whom Theseus slew) and sprang of Minos' seed.   

At siege of Troy whilst Agamemnon fought,  
Aegisthus' won Queen Clytaemnestra's heart,  
So as when he returned and little thought  
Of death, this dame began to play her part,  
She slew the prince to follow former lust,  
And thought the fact to be exceeding just.   

Fair Phyllis slew hire self, unhappy dame  
Through love: and did not Dydo do the like  
For Prince Aeneas who to Carthage came,  
When he was forced, by showers the shore to seek:  
What more unkindly parts can man devise,  
Than queens for love their honours to despise●   

Now judge my case, my fault uprightly scan,  
Deem my desert, by this it may be guessed,  
I am by nature made to love a man,  
As Sylla, Phyllis, Dido, and the rest,  
If they and I have done amiss for love,  
Let kind be blamed, that thereunto did move.   

The wisest men as far as I can see,  
Have been enthralled through love as well as we.   
Amor vince ogni cosa.   

Of his Constancy.  

WE way not wax, for all his gallant hue,  
Because it vades and melts against the fire,  
We more regard a rock of marble blue,  
For that no force doth cause it to retire,  
The builder makes his full account, that it  
Will firmly stand at a stay, and never flit.   

So may you (sweet) be sure, that my good will  
Is no good will of wax, to waste away,  
When fond desire of fancy hath his fill,  
My love is like the marble for his stay,  
Build thereupon, and you shall surely find,  
No blast of chance to change my steadfast mind.   

Black shall you see the snow on mountains hie,  
The fish shall feed upon the barren sand.  
The sea shall shrink, and leave the Dolphin's dry,  
No plant shall prove upon the senseless land,  
The Thames shall turn, the Sun shall lose his light  
Ere I to thee become a faithless wight.   

I neither am nor mean to be.  
None other than I seem to thee.    

The Author's Epilogue.  

LO here the end of all my work,  
behold the thread I drew  
Is wrought to cloth, accomplished now,  
you see this slender clew.  
A piece (God wots) of little price,  
scarce worth the Readers pain:  
And in mine own conceit  
a book of barren verse and vain.  
I blush to let it out at large  
for Sages to peruse:  
For that the common custom is,  
in books to gape for news.  
And matter of importance great  
which either may delight  
By pleasure, or with sad advise  
the reader's pains requite.  
But this of mine so maimed is,  
for lack of learned style  
And stately stuff, as sure I shall  
the readers hope beguile.  
Who doth expect some rare report,  
of former ancient deeds:  
Or new device but lately wrought,  
that breatheth yet and bleeds.  
But truly none of both in these,  
my verses is to find:  
My slender ship hath kept the shore,  
for fear of boisterous wind.  
I bore my simple sails but low  
I dreaded sudden showers:  
Which sundry times from haughty skies,  
the puissant ruler powers.  
I durst not stir amid the stream,  
the channel was too deep:  
Which made me have the more regard  
about the banks to keep.  
It is for mighty hulks to dare,  
adventure out so far:  
And barks of biggest size,  
and such as builded be for war.  
I writ but of familiar stuff,  
because my style is low:  
I fear to wade in weighty works,  
or past my reach to row.  
Which if I should, the Reader might  
as boldly blame my quill:  
As now I trust he shall accept,  
my show of great good wil  
Though divers write with fuller phrase,  
and far more haughty style:  
And burnish out their golden books  
with fine and learned file.  
Yet meaner Muses must not lurk  
but each in his degree  
That meaneth well, and doth his best  
must well regarded be.  
Though Nilus for his bigness bear  
away the greatest name:  
Whose sevenfold stream hath gained the gulf  
of such a lasting fame.  
Yet must not lesser lakes be lost,  
nor had in vile account  
That serve for use and ease of man  
though Nilus do surmount.  
Great Alexander mighty was  
and dreadful in the war:  
Yet that's no cause why Rome should not  
of Caesar boast as far.  
The Planets are the pride of heaven,  
and chiefest lamps of light:  
Yet other stars do yield a show  
and help to clear the night.  
Likewise though divers write in verse  
and do exceeding well:  
The remnant must not be refused,  
because they do excel.  
Ill may we miss the slender shrubs  
for all the princely Pine:  
No more we scorn the base drinks  
though most we way the wine.  
Which makes me hope that though  
my Muse doth yield but slender sound:  
And though my Coulter scarcely cuts,  
or breaks the marble ground.  
Yet sithence that I meant with verse,  
to feed the Readers eyes:  
And to that purpose bend my brains  
these fancies to devise.  
I trust he takes it well in worth  
and bears with what he finds.  
And thereunto the Reader aye  
the writer's travail binds.  
Which if he do I have my hire,  
who happy then but I?  
That wrote this work for grateful men,  
to view with thankful eye.  
And so I give the congée now,  
with wish that this my book  
Be such as may thy spirits delight,  
that hapnest here to look.  
Ill were my fortune if in all  
this treatise as it stands:  
There should be nothing worth the view  
when so it comes to hand.  
Roscarockes warrant shall suffice  
who likle the writing so  
As did embolden me to let  
the leaves at large to go.  
If il succeed, the blame was his  
who might have kept it back:  
And friendly told me that my book  
his due devise did lack.  
But as it is, lo there it goes,  
for every one to view:  
The man that each one's humour pleased,  
as yet I never knew.  
Sufficeth if the courtly sort  
whose doom is deep in deed:  
Account it ought, with base wits  
I care not how it speed.  
The courtier knows what best becomes,  
in every kind of case:  
His nature is, what so he doth  
to deck with gallant grace.  
The greatest clerks in other arts,  
can hardly do the leek:  
For learning sundry times is there  
where judgement is to seek.    

The Author's excuse for writing these and other fancies, with promise of graver matter hereafter.  

LOrdings allow my light and lewd devise  
And Ladies ye that are of greatest state  
Bear with my books, imputing nought to vice  
That I have pend in youth, nor now of late,  
My prime provoked my hasty idle quill:  
To write of love, when I did mean no ill.  
Two things in chief did move me thus to write  
And made me deem it none offence at all,  
First Ovid's works bedecked with deep delight,  
Whom we of Poets second best do call,  
I found him full of amours every where:  
Each leaf of love the title eke did bear.  
Then next I lived in place among the more,  
Where fond affection bore the chiefest sway,  
And where the blinded archer with his bow  
Did glance at sundry gallants every day  
And being there although my mind were free:  
Yet must I seem love wounded eke to be.  
I saw how some did seek their own mishap,  
And hunted daily to devour the hooks,  
That beauty baited, and were caught in trap,  
Like wilful wights that fed on women's looks,  
Who being once entangled in the line,  
Did yield themselves and were content to pine.  
Some other minding least to follow love,  
By haunting where dame Venus darlings dwelled,  
By force were forced cupido's coals to prove.  
Whose burning brands did make their minds to melt  
So as they were compelled by mere mischance,  
As others did, to follow on the dance.  
Some eke there were that groped but after gain  
That feigned to fry and burn with blooming heat  
Of raging love and counterfeited pain,  
When they (God wots) had slender cause to treat,  
But all was done to make their Ladies deem  
How greatly they their beauties did esteem.  
And then (O gods) to view their gréeful chéeres,  
And listen to their fond lamenting cries,  
To see their cheeks deep dented in with tears  
That day and night powered out from painful eyes,  
Would make a heart of marble melt for woe,  
That saw their plights, & did their sorrows know  
And all for lack of ruth and due remorse  
Their cruel Ladies bore so hard a hand,  
And they (poor men) constrained to love perforce,  
And fruitless clean to sow the barren sand.  
That unto me who privit was of all,  
It was a death and grieved the to the gall.  
Then for my friends (as divers loved me well)  
Indite I must some light devise of love,  
And in the same my friends affection tell,  
Whom nothing mought from beauties bar remove  
My pen must plead the silly suitors case,  
I had my hire, so he mought purchase grace.  
Some otherwhile when beauty bred disdain,  
And feature forced a pride in haughty breast,  
So as my friend whs causeless put to pain  
And for good will might purchase slender rest:  
Then must my quill to quarrels flatly fall,  
Yet keep the mean twixt sweet and sour brawl.  
Sometimes I must commend their beauties much  
That never came where any beauty lay,  
Again somewhiles my mates would have me touch  
The quick, because they had received the nay:  
And thus my pen, as change of matter grew,  
Was forced to grief, or else for grace to sue,  
Thus did I deal for others pleasure long  
(As who could well refuse to do the like)  
And for myself sometimes would write among  
As he that lives with men of war must strike.  
I would de●lise a Sonnet to a dame,  
And all to make my sullen humour game.  
So long I wrote, so oft my friends did sue  
So many were the matters, as at last,  
The whole 〈…〉  
Then to the press they ●●st in all the haste,  
maugre my beard, my mates would have it ●o  
Whom to resist it was in vain you know.  
These causes forced my harmless hand to write,  
And no desire I had to treat of ill  
Who doth not know that youthful heads delight  
Sometimes to show the queintnes of their quill,  
But pardon (Lordings) what is past and done  
I purpose now a better race to run.  
I mean no more with loves devise to deal,  
I never will to wanton Venus' bow,  
From Cupid's court to Pallas I appeal,  
juno be judge whom I do honour now  
High time it is for him to blow retreat:  
And leave to love whom self rod now doth beat.  
Wherefore, go (wanton) truss up all your trash  
Fancy farewell, to graver gods I go,  
Then love and Venus, clean my hands I wash,  
Of vain desires that youth enrageth so  
Virtue doth far surmount such filthy vice  
Amend my mates, or else you know the price.   
utile consilium est sae●as extinguere flammas,  
Qui non est hody, cras minus aptus erit.   
FINIS.