To the worshipful and right virtuous young gentleman, GEORGE MAINWARING Esquire: IS. W. wisheth happy health with good succsesse in all his godly affairs.  
WHen I (good M. MAINWARING) had made this simple nosegay: I was in mind to bestow the same on some dear friend, of which number I have good occasion to account you chief: But weighing with myself, that although the Flowers bound in the same were good: yet so little of my labour was in them that they were not (●●●●● be they should) to be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for the lest of a great number of benefits, which have from time to time (even from our Childhoo 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) received of you: yet ●●●●● by me, you●●●●●● be occasioned to say, as ANTI●ATER s●●●●DEMADES of Athens, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 him with giving, I would ●o ●●●●●●y self ●●●ffied, gratify your Gifts, and also by the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 confessions that by deeds you have deserved benefits: which as DIOGENES saith) is ●●●● worth then be ●eu●●● or 〈◊〉 by receiving of many 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 benefits (Which to do is not allotted me) to accquit your courtesies, I come to prefer you 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 poor 〈◊〉 which having no goods, ca●● with his hands full of water to meet the Persian Prince withal, who respecting the good will of the man● did not disdain his simple Gift: even so, I being ●●●●●● to bestow some Present on you, by the same thinking to make part of a●onder for the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 merited, to perform the duty of a friend, 〈◊〉 express the good will that should rest in Country folk, & not having of mine own to discharge that I go about (like to that poor Fellow which ●●●● into an other's ground for his water) did shaping another's garden for these Flowers: which I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 you (as DARIUS did,) to accept: and though they be of another's growing, yet considering they be of my own gathering and making ●●●●spect my labour and regard my good will and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 them, but vouch●●●● to be a protected 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 him from the spiteful, which (perhaps) will 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hat leith as presented you, or gathered th' 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 add done one, or both: and so might spoyle●●●● Nosegay, and not to let it come so happili 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hands, as I wish it may. And though the Garden of your godly mind be full fraught with 〈◊〉 Flowers, which I know in your infancy to take root, and which all may see now to flourish, with an undoubted hope of their yielding fruit hereafter: yet ordain to smell so these, and when you come into a pestilent air that might infect your sound mind: yet savour to these SLIPS in which I trust you shall find safety: And if you take pleasure in them, I shall not only be occasioned to endeavour myself to make a further voyage for a more daintier thing (than Flowers are) to present you withal: but also have good hope that you will accept this my labour, for recompense of all that which you are unrecompensed for, as knoweth god: who I beseech give unto you a long and a lucky life with increase of all your virtuous studies.  
From Abchurch Lane, the 20 of October, 1573. ¶ By your well willing Countrywoman. IS. W.   

¶ The Auctor to the Reader.  

THis Haruesttyme, I Haruestlesse,  
and servicelesse also:  
And subject unto sickness, that  
abroad I could not go.  
Had leisure good, (though learning lacked)  
some study to apply:  
To read such Books, whereby I thought  
myself to edify.  
Sometime the Scriptures I perusd;  
but wanting a Divine:  
For to resolve me in such doubts;  
as past this head of mine  
To understand: I laid them by  
and Histories 'gan read:  
Wherein I found that follies erst,  
in people did exceed  
The which I see doth not decrease,  
in this our present time  
Moore pity it is we follow them,  
in every wicked crime.  
I strait waxed weary 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 es,  
and many other mo●●  
As VIRGIL, OVID●●●ANTVAN,  
which many wonders ●●●e.  
And to refresh my masede●●●●●  
and cheer my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
And for to try if that my limbs.  
had got their strength again  
I walked out: but suddenly  
a friend of mine me met:  
And said, if you regard your health:  
out of this Lane you get  
And shifted you to some better air.  
for fear to be infect:  
With noisome smell and savours ill,  
I wish on that respect.  
And have regard unto your health,  
or else perhaps you may:  
So make a die, and then adieu,  
your woeful friends may say,  
I thanked him for his carefulness,  
and this for answer gave:  
I'll neither shun, nor seek for death,  
yet often the same I crave,  
By reason at my luckless life,  
believe me this is true:  
In that (says he) you do a miss,  
than had he me adieu.  
For he was hasting out of Town,  
and could no longer bide:  
And I went home, all sole alone,  
good Fortune was my guide.  
And though sh●●●●er hath denied,  
to hoyce m●● on her Wheel:  
Yet now she stood me in some steed,  
and made me pleasures feel.  
For she so Plate his Plot me brought,  
where fragrant Flowers abound:  
The smell whereof prevents each harms,  
if yet yourself be sound,  
Among those Beds so bravely decked,  
with every goodly Flower:  
And Banks and Borders finely framed,  
I me reposed one hour.  
And longer would, but leisure lacked,  
and business had me high:  
And come again some other time,  
to fill my gazing eye.  
Though loath: yet at the last I went,  
but ere I parted thence:  
A slip I took to smell unto,  
which might be my defence,  
In stinking streets, or loathsome Lanes  
which else might me infect:  
And sense that time, I each day once  
have viewed that brave prospect.  
And though the Master of the same,  
I yet did never see:  
It seems he is a gentleman,  
and full of courteisye:  
For none that with good zeal doth come,  
do any one resist:  
And such as will with or●●●● get,  
may gather whilst they ●●●t.  
Then pytite were it to destroy,  
what he with pain did plant  
The moderate here may be sufficed  
and he no whit shall want.  
And for my part, I may be bold,  
to come when as I will:  
Yea, and to choose of all his Flowers,  
which may my fancy fill.  
And now I have a Nosegay got,  
that would be passing rare:  
If that to sort the same aright,  
wear lotted to my share,  
But in a bundle as they he,  
(good Reader them accept:  
It is the giver: not the gift,  
thou oughtest to respect,  
And for thy health, not for thy eye,  
did I this Posy frame:  
Because myself did safety find,  
by smelling to the same,  
But as we are not all alike,  
nor of complexion one:  
So that which helpeth some we see.  
to others good doth none,  
I do not say, it did me help,  
I no infection felt:  
But sure I think they kept me free,  
because to them I smelled.  
And for because I like them well,  
and good have found thereby:  
I for good will, do gave them thee,  
first taste and after try.  
But if thy mind infected be,  
than these will not prevail:  
Sat Medicus with stronger Herbs,  
thy maliadye must quail  
For these be but to keep thee sound,  
which if thou use them well:  
(Pains of my life) in healthy state  
thy mind shall ever devil;  
Or if that thy complexion,  
with them do not agreed:  
Refer them to some friend of thine,  
till thou their virtue see.  
And this I pray thee, whether thou,  
infected waist afore:  
Or whether with thy nature strong;  
they can agreed no more,  
That thou my Nosegay not misuse,  
but leave it to the rest:  
A number may such pleasure find,  
to bear it in their breast.  
And if thyself would gather more,  
than I have herein bound:  
My counsel is that thou repair,  
to Master Plate his ground,  
And gather there what I did not,  
perhaps thyself may light:  
On those which for thee fit are,  
then them which I resighte.  
Which if thou do, then tender thanks,  
to him which sowed the soil,  
If not, thou needs must him commend,  
when as thou viewest his toils  
In any wise, be chary that  
thou lettest in no Swine:  
Not Dog to scrape, nor beast that doth  
to ravine still incline,  
For though he make no spare of them,  
to such as have good skill:  
To slip, to shear, or get in time,  
and not his branches kill:  
Yet bars he out, such greedy guts,  
as come with spite to toot:  
And without skill, both Earb & Flower  
pluck rashly by the root.  
So wishing thee, to find such Flowers,  
as may thee comfort bring:  
And eke that he which framed the Plot,  
with virtues still may spring.  
I thee commend to mighty JOVE,  
and thus I thee assure:  
My Nosegay will increase no pain,  
though sickness none it cure,  
Wherefore, if thou it hap to wear  
and feel thyself much worse:  
Promote me for no Sorceress,  
nor do me ban or curse.  
For this I say the Flowers are good,  
which I on thee bestow:  
As those which wear them to the stalks,  
Shall by the sequel know.  
One word, and then adieu to thee,  
if thou to Plate his Plot  
Repair: take heed it is a Maze  
to warn thee I forgot.   
* FINIS. quod IS. W.   

T.B. in commendation of the Author.  

MArching among the woods of fine delight  
Where as the Laurel branch doth bring increase  
Seld, of Ladies fresh, a solemn sight:  
I viewed, whose walks betokened all their ease:  
And bow in friendly wise, it did them please:  
Whiles some did twist the Silk of lively hew  
Some others slipped the Brannch for praises dew.   

* Nor musing did not rest, nor scorn my sight,  
nor priest in haste to break their silence I  
But as at first, they held their whole delight:  
and casting mirth, said Friend that passest buy  
did never wreaths of love that bind pardie:  
As thus: who framed her Plot in G 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
So orderly, as best she might devise.   

Not yet (quoth I,) but you might fort the same  
whose face doth stain the colour read as Rose:  
Not VIRGIL this, nor OVID eke may blame,  
For Beauty pressing as the Cunduit flows,  
was cause that PARIS greatest love arose:  
who loved before, though never touched so,  
As OVID shows, with many writers more.   

* But Lady's sure, my love consists in this  
my whole delight, and pleasure all I take  
To deck the wight, that worthy praises is:  
and sure my great goodwill must never slake  
From WHITNEY: lo, herein some party take  
For in her work is plainly to be seène,  
Why Ladies place in Garlands Laurel green.   

* She flattering Fate too much, nor skies doth trust:  
such labour lîeth finished with the life:  
She never did account Dame Fortune just,  
that tosseth us with toys and plunges rife:  
But her defieth, as Auctor of her strife:  
She doth not writ the brute or force in Arms,  
Nor pleasure takes, to sing of others harms,   

* But mustered hath and wrapped in a pack  
a heap of Flowers of Philosophy:  
No branch of perfect wisdom here doth lack  
But that the bruised mind, refreshed may be,  
And that it is no fable, you shall see:  
For here at large the sequel will declare  
To Country Dearde, her love and friendly care.   

* The smelling Flowers of an Arbour sweet,  
An Orchard picked presented is to thee:  
And for her second work, she thought it meet,  
sith Maids with lofty style may not agreed:  
In hope hereby, something to pleasure thee,  
And when her busy care from head shall lurk,  
She practise will, and promise' longer work.   

* Now happy Dames, if good deserveth well,  
her praise for Flowers philosophical:  
And let your Branches twined that excel  
her head adorn: wherein she flourish shall:  
And BERRIE so, rests always at your call,  
The purple blue, the read, the white I have,  
To wrap amid your Garlands fresh & brave.   
FINIS. THO. BIR.   


A sweet Nosgay, Or pleasant Posy: containing a hundred and ten Philosophical Flowers. etc.  

¶ The I Flower.  
SUch friends as have been absent  
more joyful be at meeting  
Then those which ever present are long  
and daily have their greeting.   

¶ The TWO  
¶ When perils they are present, then  
doth absence keep thee free:  
Whereas, if that thou present wert  
might dangers light on thee.   

The III  
¶ The presence of the mind must be  
preferred, if we do well:  
Above the bodies presence; for  
it far doth it excel.   

¶ The FOUR  
Yet absence, sbtimes bringeth harm,  
when friends but fickle are:  
For new acquaintance purchase place  
and old do loose their share.   

¶ The V  
¶ What profie things that we possess  
do by their presence bring  
We can not know: till by their lack,  
We feel what harms do spring.   

The VI  
¶ For to abound in every thing,  
and not their use to know:  
It is a pinching penury:  
wherefore, thy goods, bestow.   

The VII.  
¶ A saying old, once out of sight,  
and also out of mind:  
These contraries, that absent friends  
much toy at meeting find.   

¶ The VIII.  
¶ Well yet, for the Antiquity,  
it grew amongst the rest:  
And true it proves, by those whose winds  
Oblivion hath possess.   

¶ The IX.  
Care not how mant things thou hast  
but have a great regard:  
That they be good, for quantity,  
both merit no reward.   

* The X.  
¶ Yet so thou must increase thy stock  
as clear thine own it be:  
And neither fleece thy friend, nor seek  
thy neighbour's beggary.   

¶ The XI  
¶ We easily may abuse the great  
and chiefest thing of all:  
But hard it is to use & right,  
such as are trifles small.   

* The 12.  
¶ Our rares we must not ever oye,  
to each man's accusation:  
Nor without tryail, trust too much,  
to any one's persuasion.   

* The 13.  
¶ I fault right greater seemeth far,  
on the accuser's part:  
Then it on the Defendants doth  
much more should be his smart.   

¶ The 14.  
¶ Thy friends admonish secretly,  
of crimes to which they serve:  
But praise them openly, if so be,  
their deeds do praise deserve.   

¶ The 15.  
In every check, use some fair speech  
for words do sooner pierce  
That plainly pass, than those which thou  
wrughnesse might reverse.   

¶ The 16.  
¶ Admonished be with willingness,  
and patiently abide  
A reprehension, for such faults,  
as friends in thee have spied.   

¶ The 17.  
¶ Those precepts which in youthful years  
are printed in thy breast:  
Will deepest dive, and do more good  
than ever shall the rest.   

¶ The 18.  
¶ You must not suffer youth to raing  
nor stray abroad at will:  
For liberty both lewdness breed,  
wherefore prevent that ill.   

¶ The 19  
¶ The bigor of our youth, no whit  
doth differ from the flower:  
Which for a time doth flourish fair,  
and qutekly loose his power.   

* The 20.  
Whist thou art young, remember that  
thine Age approacheth fast:  
And follow thou the steps of such,  
whose life doth ever last.   

¶ The 21.  
¶ In youth to thee such learning get  
as it may make thee wise:  
So people shall in elder years,  
come seek thy sage advise.   

* The 22.  
¶ The inclinations of our youth,  
desires that thence doth spring:  
Before show what fruit in future time  
our ripened age will bring.   

¶ The 23.  
¶ Not hope of goodness can be had  
of him, who spends his prime,  
In living so licentious,  
that he respects no crime.   

¶ The 24.  
That mind which sensual appetites  
in youth doth blindly guide:  
To Age do bodies yield deformed,  
because they wandered wide.   

* The 25  
¶ Now vain it is for crooked Age  
his youth for to require:  
So is't for youth that childish years  
would willingly desire.   

¶ The 26.  
Old people deem them nearer death  
than those that youthful seem  
But youth seproaner to his end,  
and less doth life esteem,   

¶ The 27.  
¶ Great cruelty it is for us  
to use a churlish check  
To any, when adversity,  
hath brought them to a wreck,   

¶ The 28.  
¶ None in adversity hath help,  
except they prospered have  
And by that means have purchased friends  
of whom they aid may crave.   

¶ The 29.  
If misery thou wouldst not know,  
live dangerless thou must  
Or else to taste of troubles great  
thou shalt, though thou wert just.   

¶ The 30.  
¶ Prosperity will get thee friends,  
but poverty will try  
for then, except they faithful are  
apace from thee they fly.   

¶ The 31.  
¶ 'tis better with the truth offend,  
then please with flattering words  
for truth at length shall heap thee safe  
when rother cuts like swords.   

¶ The 32.  
¶ To all men be thou liberal,  
but use to flatter none,  
Nor be familiar but with few  
which number make but one.   

¶ The 33.  
A fawning friend will at the length  
a frowning foe approve  
The hate of such is better sure,  
than their deceitful love.   

¶ The 34.  
¶ She that is an Adulteress  
of evils is a sea:  
Her wickedness consumes herself  
and husband doth decay.   

¶ The 35.  
Men do by emulation,  
of others, prove the same  
In every ill as custom is,  
so commonly we frame.   

¶ The 36.  
Those strokes which mates in mirth do give  
do seem to be but light:  
Although sometime, they leave a sign  
seems grievous to the sight.   

* The 37.  
All men thou shalt thine equal make  
if thou such plainness use  
As thou not fearest, nor yet art feared,  
nor art, nor dost abuse.   

¶ The 38.  
¶ Whilst hairs are hidden wastely  
Age doth himself be wray:  
For will we, nyl we, h'eele appear,  
when youth is chaste away.   

¶ The 39  
¶ Children are likened to the spring  
and striplings to the Summer.  
And youngmen, they are autumn like  
and old men weary winter.   

¶ The 40.  
¶ Have thou access always to such  
let such resort to thee:  
Is temper all their talk with truth,  
and are from envy free.   

¶ The 41.  
¶ When brethren be at variance,  
how should the enemies gree;  
When friends fall out among themselves  
who shall their days member.   

* The 42.  
¶ A friendly mind, account it for  
the nearest of thy kin:  
When all shall fail, it sticks to thee,  
what ever chance hath been.   

* The 43.  
¶ Affection is of force so strong,  
that other qualities:  
He deemeth to be like himself,  
and doth no worse surmise.   

¶ The. 44.  
¶ Let thine affections ruled be,  
lest that they do thee rule:  
For than no strength will thee avail  
nor back canst thou recoil.   

* The. 45.  
¶ The sorrowful do think it death,  
to linger in this life:  
And wish to be dissolved thereof,  
thereby to stint their strife.   

¶ The. 46.  
¶ What sere it be that doubtful is,  
grants health th'afflicted till:  
He utterly denies that he,  
to health restore him will.   

* The. 47.  
¶ The ploughman is accounted small  
his reputation none:  
Yet of the membbers in a Realm  
of chiefest he is one:   

* The. 48.  
☞ At diceplaying, he that excels  
and counningstly can play:  
In my conceit, for wickedness,  
may bear the price a way;   

* The. 49.  
Brease not too high, but have regard  
if thou would chance to fall:  
From high might kill, from mean might hurt  
allow stand sure thou shall.   

* The. 50.  
The man that is ambitious,  
doth loose such honour often:  
Is he hath got, when fortune pleased.  
to set him up aloft:   

¶ The. 51.  
¶ When potentates ambitious are,  
the poor men, they are wracked,  
When Realms denied within themselves  
no cities are unsacked.   

* The. 52.  
¶ Be that is voyd of any friend,  
him company to keep:  
Walks in a world of wilderness,  
full fraught with dangers deep.   

* The. 53.  
¶ Judge of a friend ere friendship be  
but when thou hast him tried:  
Then mayst thou trust, & eke believe  
as thou his doings spied.   

¶ The 54.  
The fault which in thy friend, thou seemest  
to suffer, or permit:  
Thou guilty art, thereof thyself,  
not punishing of it.   

* The 55.  
¶ So often as faithful friends departed  
so often to die they seem:  
To separate, the grief is great,  
but absence is extreme.   

* The 56.  
☞ Account so ever of thy friend,  
as he thy foe may frame  
So bear thee, that in enmity,  
he thee procure no shame.   

* The 57  
To all men use thou equity,  
show faith unto thy friend  
In every thing that thou pretendest,  
do still respect the end.   

* The 58.  
By benefits unto thy friend,  
show thine ability:  
And that thy foes may know the same  
thine Injuries let fly.   

¶ The 59  
All things with friends in common are  
at lest it should be so  
That pleasures might imparted be  
so like wise grief, or woe.   

* The 60.  
The poor, they have no friends at all  
for to participate,  
The sorrow and the grief they find  
in their most wretched state.   

* The 61.  
In loving, each one hath free choice,  
or ever they begin,  
But in their power it lieth not,  
to end when they are in.   

¶ The 62.  
¶ The angry lover flattereth  
himself with many lies:  
And fond feedeth on such toys  
as fancy doth devise.   

¶ The 63.  
¶ Each lover knoweth what he likes  
and what he doth desire,  
But seld, or never doth he know,  
what thing he should require.   

* The. 64.  
¶ In time, may love, by percemeale wear  
and whither clean a way:  
But presently to pluck his roots,  
in vain you do assay.   

* The. 65.  
The lovers tears, will soon appease  
his ladies angry mood:  
But men will not be pacified,  
if Memen weep a flood.   

* The. 66.  
¶ As Poet's fain, the Gods themselves  
in love could use no myt:  
Then mortal men may be allowed,  
such follies to commit.   

¶ The 67.  
The youngmen when they are in love  
may profit gain thereby:  
But in the old, it is a fault  
for they should love defy.   

¶ The 68  
¶ If love have given thee a blow,  
and that thou art unsound,  
Make means that thou a plaster have,  
of them which gave the wound,   

¶ The 69.  
When secret love once kindled is,  
'twill burn with fiercest flame:  
The surest way to be beloved,  
is fyest to do the same.   

¶ The. 70.  
The lover whith doth look aloft,  
and doth submission hate:  
Shall have a slip, or answered be,  
that he is come to late.   

The. 71.  
whosoever they be, the laws of love  
hath guided for a season:  
It is a doubt, that never more.  
they will be ruled by reason.   

* The 72.  
☞ The cough it is so cumbersome,  
that none the same can hide:  
So love full fraught with foolish toys  
may easily be efpyde.   

* The 73.  
The foremost step to wisdom is,  
from love to keep thee free:  
The second for to love so close,  
that none the same may see.   

¶ The 74.  
¶ An old man when he is in love;  
of him this may we deem:  
Of all hard haps and chances fell,  
he hath the most extreme.   

¶ The. 75.  
The love of wicked persons must,  
be got by wicked means:  
Make thine account, when thou hast done  
and give the devil that gains.   

¶ The. 76.  
¶ Affection and deceives the wise  
and love make men such noddies  
That to their selves they seem as dead  
yet live in other bodies,   

¶ The. 77.  
¶ A virtuous man, that hath the fear  
of God: before his eyes:  
Is sure in safety for to walk,  
for all his enemies.   

* The. 78.  
¶ Not credit give, or not to much,  
to that which thou dost hear,  
If that out of a troubled mind  
thou spyest it to appear.   

¶ The. 79.  
¶ The bow that ever standeth bend  
too far will never cast  
The mind which evermore is flack,  
doth badly prove at last.   

¶ The. 80.  
¶ Such minds, as are disposed well  
brings wanderers to the way:  
And ready are with helping hand,  
to such as go astray.   

¶ The. 81.  
¶ Of worldly things, the chiefest is  
a well contented mind:  
That doth despise for to aspire,  
nor gapeth gifts to find.   

* The. 82.  
¶ If thou dost ill, it forceth not  
what mind thoh we west thereto,  
Because thy mind cannot be seen,  
But that which thou dost do.   

¶ The. 83.  
A loathsome sight, God knows it is  
a fickle mind to see:  
It would be pure for to reject,  
that boil impurity.   

* The. 84.  
Our years & days wax worse and worse and worse  
more grievous is our sorrow:  
He that's unfit tomend to day,  
will worser be tomorrow.   

* The. 85.  
¶ The present day we cannot spend  
as we the same should do  
Except to count it as our last,  
we frame ourselves unto.   

* The. 86.  
As ours do please some other men,  
so theirs do us delight:  
Which shows our it contented mind  
that often works us spite.   

¶ The. 87.  
He that with his own weapon is  
dispatched of his life:  
Twice slain he is because himself  
was killed with his own knife.   

¶ The. 88  
* Those promises which are forgot,  
be not for ay neglect  
They may performed be at last,  
and have their full effort:   

¶ The. 89.  
¶ A miserable grief it is,  
by him to have a harm  
On whom we dare not once complain  
nor can ourselves him charm.   

¶ The. 90.  
Their sight is weak that waxeth dim  
to see another blind  
And very little comfort shall,  
th'afflicted by them find.   

¶ The. 91.  
¶ A pleasure ill, and profit none  
it is, delight to make,  
In th'use of any neighbours goods  
for which they pains did take.   

¶ The. 92.  
He is not much deceived, whose suit  
full quickly hath denial  
Nor can he say, that he had cause,  
to linger for the trial.   

¶ The. 93.  
¶ Full hard it is, and hazard great  
to keep for any white:  
A thing that each one lusreth for  
for some will thee beguile.   

* The. 94.  
Do not account that for thine own,  
which may from thee be take:  
But much exteeme such treasure, as  
will never thee forsake.   

* The. 95.  
¶ The day doth dally so with us,  
that we can never know:  
For what to wish, from what to fly  
what works us weal or woe.   

* The. 96.  
¶ He doth not soon to royne come  
that fears it ere it fall:  
But may provide it to prevent,  
if Fortune grant he shall.   

¶ The. 97.  
Ask nothing of thy neighbour, that  
thou wouldst not let him have:  
Nor say him nay, of that which thou  
wouldst get, if thou didst crave.   

¶ The. 98.  
¶ If that thou minded are to give  
ask not if they will have it  
For so, they either must deny  
or seem that they do crave it.   

* The. 99  
¶ It glorious is, to give all things  
to him that nought doth crave:  
Do likewise let him nothing get  
that everything would have.   

* The. 100  
¶ Whilst that thou hast free liberty  
to do what likes thee best:  
Thou soon mayest see into thyself  
what disposition rest.   

* The. 1001.  
¶ That Lawyer, which is chose to pled  
for rich & mighty men:  
Must either let the truth go by,  
or loose their friendship then.   

¶ The. 1002.  
A little gold in law will make,  
thy matter better speed:  
Then if thou broughtest of love as much  
as might in kindred's breed.   

¶ The. 1003.  
Gold savours well though it be got  
with occupations vile:  
Of thou hast gold, thou welcome art,  
though virtue thou exile.   

¶ The. 1004.  
Such poor folk as to law do got,  
are driven often to curse:  
But in mean while, the Lawyer thrusts  
the money in his purse.   

* The 1005.  
A hasty tongue, which runs at large  
not knowing any measure,  
It is a wicked thing that makes  
the mind repent at leisure.   

¶ The. 1006.  
Two eyes, two ears, & but one tongue  
Dame nature hath us framed  
That we might see, and hear much more  
them should with tongue be named.   

¶ The. 1007.  
Repewel thy tongue, & keep thy friend  
ill used, it causeth foes  
In betraying things, commit to thee  
thou faithful friends nor dost loose.   

¶ The. 1008.  
Seek not each man to please, for that  
is more than God ●●●s do:  
Please thou the best & never care,  
what wicked say thereto.   

¶ The. 1009.  
¶ Of wicked men to be dispraysd,  
for praise do it account:  
If they commend, than art thou mad  
so doth their credit mount.   

* The. 10010.  
¶ When as the wicked are in midst  
of all their iolitye:  
Misfortune standeth at the door,  
and scorns the same to see.   
¶ FINIS.   

¶ A sovereign receipt.  

* The juice of all these Flowers take,  
and make thee a conserve:  
And use it first and last: and is  
Will safely thee preserve.   
* By Is. W. Gent.   

¶ A farewell to the Reader.  

GOOd Reader now you tasted have,  
and smelled of all my flowers:  
The which to get some pain I took,  
and travailed many hours.  
I must request you spoil them not,  
nor do in peers teareth them:  
But if thyself do loath the scent.  
geue others leave to wear them.  
I shall no whit be discontent,  
for nothing is so pure:  
But one, or other will mislike  
thereof we may be sure.  
If he for whom I gathered them,  
take pleasure in the same:  
And that for my presumption,  
my Friends do not me blame.  
And that the savour take effect,  
in such as I do know:  
And bring no harm to any else,  
in place where it shall go.  
And that when I am distant far,  
it worns before my sake:  
That some may say, God speed her well  
that did this Nosegay make  
And eke that he who aught the Plot,  
wherein they same did grow:  
Fume not to see them borhe about,  
and wish he did me know.  
And say in rage were she a man,  
that with my flowers doth brag,  
She well should pay the price, I would  
not leave her worth a rag,  
If as I say, no harms do hap,  
but that this well may speed:  
My mind is fully satisfied,  
I crave vone other meed.  
So wishing thee no worse than those,  
of whom I think none ill:  
I make an end and thee commend,  
the liveiug Lord until.   
¶ FINIS. IS. W.    

Certain familiar Epistles and friendly Letters by the Auctor: with Replies.  

¶ To her Brother. G. W.  

GOod Brother when a vacant time  
doth 'cause you hence to ride:  
And that the fertile fields do make,  
you from the City vyde.  
Then cannot I once from you hear  
nor know I how to sand:  
Or where to hearken of your health  
and all this would be heard.  
And most of me, for why I lest,  
of Fortune's favour find:  
Do yielding year we me allows,  
nor goods hath me assind.  
But still to friends I must appeal  
(and next our Parents dear,)  
You are, and must be chiefest slaffe  
that I shall stay on hear.  
Wherefore mine own good brother grant  
me when that you are here:  
To see you often and also hence,  
I may have knowledge where  
A messenger to hark unto,  
that I to you may write:  
And eke of him your answers have  
which would my heart delight.  
Receive of me, and eke accept,  
a simple token hear:  
A smell of such a Nosegay as  
I do for present bear.  
Unto a virtuous Lady, which  
till death I honour will:  
The loss I had of service hers,  
I languish for it still.   
¶ Your loving (though luckless) Sister, IS. W.   

¶ To her Brother. B. W.  

GOod Brother Brook, I often look,  
to hear of your return:  
But none can tell, if you be well,  
nor where you do sojourn:  
Which makes me fear, that I shall hear  
your health appaired is:  
And often I dread, that you are dead,  
or somthyng goeth amiss.  
Yet when I think, you can not shrink,  
but must with Master he:  
I have good hope, when you have scope,  
you will repairé to me.  
And so the fear, and deep despair,  
that I of you then had  
I drive away: and wish that day  
wherein we may be glad.  
Glad for to see, but else for me:  
will be no joy at all:  
For on my side, no luck will bide,  
nor happy chance befall.  
As you shall know, for I will show,  
you more when we do speak,  
Then will I writ, or yet recite,  
within this Paper weak.  
And so I end, and you commend,  
to him that guides the skies:  
Who grant you health, & sand you wealth,  
no less than shall suffice.   
* Your loving Sister. Is. W.   

¶ An order prescribed, by IS. W. to two of her younger Sisters serving in London.  

GOOd Sisters mine, when I  
shall further from you devil:  
Beruse theselines, observe the rules  
which in the same I tell.  
So shall you wealth possess,  
and quietness of mind:  
And all your friends to see the same,  
a triple joy shall find.   

1.  
¶ In morning's when you rise,  
forget not to commend:  
Yourselves to God, beseeching him  
from dangers to defend.  
Your souls and bodies both,  
your Parents and your friends:  
Your teachers and your governors  
so pray you that your ends,  
May be in such a sort,  
as God may pleased he:  
To live to die, to die to live,  
with him eternally.   

2.  
¶ Then tustly do such deeds,  
as are to you assind:  
Ill wanton toys, good sisters now  
exile out of your mind,  
I hope you give no cause,  
whereby I should suspect:  
But this I know too many live,  
that would you soon infect.  
If God do not prevent,  
or with his grace expel:  
I cannot speak, or write to much,  
because I love you well.   

3.  
¶ Your busfnes soon dispatch,  
and listen to no lies:  
Nor credit every feigned tale,  
that many will devise.  
For words they are but wind.  
yet words may hurt you so:  
As you shall never brook the same,  
if that you have a foe.  
God shield you from all such,  
as would by word or Bill.  
Procure your shame, or never cease  
till they have wrought you ill.   

4.  
¶ See that your sere is seal,  
tread trifles under ground:  
If to rehearsal often you come,  
it will your quiet wound.  
Of laughter be not much,  
nor over solemn see me:  
For then be sure th'eyle count you light  
or proud will you exteeme.  
Be modest in a mean,  
be gentle unto all:  
Though cause thet give of contrari  
yet be to wrath no thrall.  
Refer you all to him.  
that sits above toe skies:  
Vengeance is his, he will revenge,  
you need it not devise.   

5.  
¶ And sith that virtue guides,  
where both of you do devil:  
give thanks to God, & painful he  
to please your rulers well,  
For fleeting is a foe,  
expertence hath me taught:  
The rolling stone doth get no moss  
yourselves have hard full often.  
Your business being done,  
and this my scroll perusd,  
The day will end, and that that night  
by you be not abused.  
I some thing needs must writ,  
take pains to read the same:  
Henceforth my life as well as Pen  
shall your examples frame.   

6.  
¶ Your Masters gone to Bed,  
your Mistress at rest.  
Their Daughters all whast about  
to get themselves undressed.  
See that their Plate be safe,  
and that no Spoon do lack,  
See Doors & windows bolted fall  
for fear of any wrack.  
Then help if need there he,  
to do some household thing:  
If not to bed, referring you,  
unto the heavenly King  
Forgetting not to pray  
as I before you taught,  
And giving thanks for all that he,  
hath ever for you wrought.  
Good Sisters when you pray,  
let me remembered be:  
So will I you, and thus I cease,  
till I yourselves do see.   
(q) IS. W.   

¶ To her Sister Mistress A. B.  

BEcause I to my brethren wrote,  
and to my Sisters two:  
Good Sister Anne, you this might wot,  
if so I should not do  
To you, or ere I parted hence,  
You vainly had bestowed expense.   

¶ Yet is it not for that I writ,  
for nature did you bind:  
To do me good: and to requite,  
hath nature me inclined:  
Wherefore good Sister take in gree,  
These simple lines that come from me.   

Wherein I wish you Nestor's days,  
in happy health to rest:  
With such success in all assays,  
as those which God hath blest:  
Your Husband with your pretty Boys,  
God keep them free from all annoys.   

¶ And grant if that my luck it he,  
to linger here so long:  
Till they be men: that I may see,  
for learning them so strong:  
That they may march amongst the best,  
Of them which learning have possessed.   

¶ By that time will my aged years  
perhaps a staff require:  
And quakyngly as still in fears,  
my limbs draw to the fire:  
Yetioy I shall them so to see,  
If any toy in age there he,   

¶ Good sister so I you commend,  
to him that made us all:  
I know you huswyfery intent,  
though I to writing fall:  
Wherefore no longer shall you stay,  
From business, that profit may.   

* Had I a Husband, or a house,  
and all that longs thereto  
Myself could frame about to rouse,  
as other women do:  
But till some household cares me tie,  
My books and Pen I will apply.   
* Your loving Sister. IS. W.   

To her cozen. F. W.  

GOOd Cousin mine, I hope in health  
and safety you abide.  
And sore I long, to here if yet  
you are to wedlock tide.  
If so you be, God grant that well  
both you and she it spend:  
If not when s'ere it haps, I wish  
that God much joy you sand.  
And when you to the Country come  
or thither chance to sand:  
Let me you see, or have some scroll,  
that shall of you be penned.  
And this account as nature binds  
and meryts yours deserve:  
I Cousin am, and faithful Friend,  
not minding once to swerver.  
So wishing you as happy health,  
as ever man possessed:  
I end, and you commit to him  
that evermore is blest.   
Your poor Kinswoman. IS. W.   

¶ A careful complaint by the unfortunate Auctor.  

GOOd DIDO stint thy tears,  
and sorrows all resign  
To me: that borne was to augment,  
misfortunes luckless line.  
Or using still the same,  
good DIDO do thy best:  
In helping to bewail the hap,  
that furthereth mine unrest.  
For though thy Trojan mate,  
that Lord AENEAS height,  
Requiting ill thy stetfast love,  
from Carthage took his flight.  
And foully broke his oath,  
and promise' made before:  
Whose falsehood finished thy delight,  
before thy hairs were door.  
Yet greater cause of grief  
compels me to complain:  
For Fortune fell converted hath,  
My health to heaps of pain.  
And that she swears my death,  
to plain it is (alas)  
Whose end let malice still attempt,  
to bring the same to pass.  
O DIDO thou hadst lived,  
a happy Woman still,  
If fickle fancy had not thralled  
thy wits: to reckless will.  
For as the man by whom,  
thy deadly dolours bred:  
Without regard of plighted troth,  
from CARTHAGE City fled.  
So might thy cares in time,  
be banished out of thought:  
His absence might well salve the sore,  
that erst his presence wrought.  
For fire no longer burns,  
than Faggots feed the flame:  
The want of things that breed annoy,  
may soon redress the same.  
But I unhappy moss,  
and gripped with endless griefs:  
Despair (alas) amid my hope,  
and hope without relief.  
And as the swelting heat,  
consumes the War away:  
So do the heaps of deadly harms,  
still threaten my decay.  
O Death delay not long,  
thy duty to declare:  
You Sisters three dispatch my days  
and finysh all my care.   
(q) IS. W.   

In answer to comfort her, by showing his haps to be harder.  

FRiend IS. be now content, & let my sorrows quell:  
the extreme rage, & care thou restest in:  
For wailing sprights, ne furies fierce in hell:  
nor gristey souls, that still in woe have been:  
Have ever felt like storms that I sustain,  
frowust so I am, and dulled in deep despair,  
That sure (me thinks), my extreme raging pain:  
might gain thee belth: & set thee free from fere.  
For DIDO, thou, and many thousands more,  
which living feel the pangs of extreme care,  
Though tortered much; and torn in pieces small:  
whom ever gripping death doth never spare,  
Nor he, that falsey, Carthage City fled,  
so fraught with wiles, n or ye such sorrows taste:  
By thousand parts, as I who rightly said:  
do pine as WAX, before the fire wastes.  
I freece to ICE, I be eaten with perching SON,  
and torn with teen, thus languishing in pain,  
Do feel my sorrows ever fresher run:  
to flowing cares, that endless sorrows gain.  
For what, for whom, and why this evil works  
friend IS. W, time, nor silence; may it show  
But she ere many days, my care that lurks,  
shall blown be, and thou the same shall know.  
Till then, with silly DIDO be content,  
and rip no more, thy wrongs in such excess:  
Thy FORTUNE rather, wills thee so lament,  
with speedy wit, till hope may have redressè.   
* FINIS. (q) T. B.   

¶ A Reply to the same.  

THe bitter force of Fortune's frowardness,  
is painted out by Bible changed hue:  
Report bewrays, that tyrants doubleness,  
which I by trial, prove (alas) so true.  
constrained I am, on thy mishaps to rue:  
As often as I consider thine estate.  
Which differs far, from that thou waste of late.   

Where be thy wonted lively looks become;  
or what mischance, hath dimmed the beauty so  
There is no God that deals such doubtful dom  
No jubiter hath brought the down so low:  
thy hapless fate, hath stroght thy overthrow  
For as Saturnus reaves the Berries soy,  
So Fortune strives, to further thine annoy.   

¶ O Fortune falce, O thrice unttedy joys  
Why doth not man mistrust thy subtle shoes  
Whose proffers prove in time to be but toys  
as this the fruit that from your blossom grows  
then may you rightly be conyard with those  
whose painted speech, professeth friendship still  
but time bewrays the meaning to be yli.   

For time that shows, what erst I could not see  
Hath brought about, that I suspected lest:  
Complaining still on our simplicitlye  
Who headlong runs, as doth the carls beast  
till hunter's snares, have laid his limbs to rest  
For when we jest mistrust & dread deceit  
Then are we snard, with unsuspected baif.   

¶ As lately unto thee it did be fall,  
whose hap enforeeth me to rue thy chance  
For thou that flourished erst at beauties stall:  
Hath felt the force of froward Fortune's lance  
Compelled to furnish out misfortunes dance  
See here the surety that belongeth ay,  
To mortal joys whereon the world doth stay   

But live in hope that better hap may light,  
For after storms Sir Phoebus' force is seen  
So when Saturnus hath declared his might:  
And Winter stints to turn the world to teen  
then pleasant Ver shall clothe the ground in green  
And lusty MAY shall labour to restore,  
the things the Winter's spit had spoiled before   

Then shall the Berrey cleave her wonted hue.  
And eke my B. that long hath tasted pain  
When Fortune doth her former grace renew  
shall boysed be to happy state again  
Delighting often among his friends & kin,  
To tell what danger erst his life was in.   

Which happy light of mortal creturs, who  
shall more rejoice, than I thy friend to see  
And while came fortune, yielded not thereto  
but doth proléed: to prove her suit on thee  
yet shalt thou not so ill beloved he,  
But that thy Fame, for ever flourish shall,  
If IS. her Pen, may promise' aught at all.   
Farewell.   

¶ IS. W. to C.B. in bewailing her mishaps.  

IF heavy hearts might serve to be  
a sacrifice for sin:  
or else, if sorrows might suffice,  
for what so ere hath been:  
Then mine Oblation, is wear made,  
Which long have lived in Mourners trade,   

* The dryrie day in dole (alas)  
continually I spend:  
The noisome nights, in restless Bed,  
I bring unto his end:  
And when the day appears again,  
Then fresh begin my plaints amain.   

¶ But this I fear, will sooner cease:  
the number of my sin:  
Then make amends, for former miss,  
that I have lived in:  
Because I take not patiently  
Correction in adversity.   

* Wherefore (my God) give me that gift,  
As bedyd I OB until:  
That I may take with quietness,  
What soever is his will:  
Then shall my luckless life soon end,  
Or froward Fortune shall amend.   

* And for because your sound advice,  
may ease me in distress:  
For that two wits may compass more  
than one, you must confess:  
And that, that burden doth not dear,  
Which friend will sometime help to bear.   

* Therefore, in this perplexity,  
To you dear friend I writ:  
You know mine endless misery,  
you know, how some me spite:  
With counsel cure, for fear of wrack,  
And help to bear, that breaks my back:   

* So wishing you in health to hide,  
and troubleshot to taste  
And giving tendance for your aid,  
which I require in haste  
I cease: and humbly me commend,  
To the conducting of my Friend,   
* YOur unfortunate Friend. IS. W.   

¶ In answer by C. B. to IS. W.  

YOur lamentable letterred,  
and finding by the same:  
That you my skilless counsel crave,  
to bring you to some frame:  
Such as it is, I ready pressed,  
Both am, and will, to do my best.   

¶ And where as thou in sorrow soused  
dost pine thyself away:  
I with thee for to conquer care,  
lest the bring thy decay:  
Those fretting fits, that thou art in,  
Offends the Lord, augmenteth sin.   

¶ The heavy heart: and mind oppressed,  
be never both reiea:  
And at what hour we lament,  
be doth be still respect.  
Yet that for sin thou shouldst thee kill,  
Wold hath thy soul and body spill.   

* But 'tis not altogether sin,  
that makes you sorrow this:  
It is because that Fortune she,  
doth frown on you iwis:  
Wherefore if you my counsel like,  
Turn of your tears, and cease to like.   

¶ Impart thy woes, and give to niée,  
the greatest of the same:  
Pluck strength thee to: and cherish thee,  
to modest mirth now frame:  
Then friends and you may work so well,  
That Fortune shall your foes expel.   

¶ If evil words and other wants,  
have brought thee to this woe:  
Remember how that Christ himself,  
on earth was even so:  
Thy Friends the have thee known of long,  
Will not regard thy enemy's tongue.   

¶ The virtue that hath ever been,  
within thy tender breast:  
Which I from year to year, have seen,  
in all thy deeds expressed:  
Doth me persuade thy enemies lie,  
And in that quarrel would I die.   

¶ That wisdom which thou dost possess,  
is rare for to be found:  
Thy courtesy to every one,  
so greatly doth abound.  
That those which thoroughly thee do know,  
Will thee defend from any foe.   

* Wherefore as earth I writ to thee,  
pluck up that heart of thine:  
And make account for friendship, or  
for service: else of mine.  
I will not fail for friend or foe,  
Thy virtues they do bind me so.   

* Thus wishing God to be your guide,  
and grant you Nestor's life:  
With health and haps, so good as erst,  
had any maybe or wife.  
I end and rest in what he may,  
Your friend unto my dying day.   
By me C. B.   

* To my Friend Master T. L. whose good nature: I see abused.  

Did not Dame Seres tell to you?  
nor fame unto you show?  
What sturdi ●●orms have been abroad  
and who hath played the shrew.  
I thought that Goddess in your fields  
had helped with your crop:  
Or else the fame iil you had known,  
her trump would never stop.  
But sith I see their silentness,  
I cease the same to writ:  
Lest I therefore might be condemned  
to do it for a spite.  
But this I wish that you my friend  
go choose some virtues wife:  
With whom in fear of God do spend,  
the residue of your life  
For whilst you are in single state  
none hath that right regard:  
They think all well the they can win,  
and count it their reward.  
With sorrow I to often have seen,  
when some would fleece you much  
And often in writing would I lay  
good friend beware of such.  
But all my mordes they wear as wind  
my labour ill was spent:  
And in the end for my good will,  
most cruelly was thent.  
If I were hort and buffeted,  
good will shall never cease:  
Nor hand, nor tongue, shall so be charmed  
to make me hold my peace.  
Wherefore I warn you once again  
be wary of yourself:  
For some have sworn to like you well  
so long as you have pelf,  
If warnings still you do reject,  
to late yourself shall rue:  
Do as you list, I wish you well,  
and so I say ade we.   
Your well-willer. IS. W.   

¶ Another Letter sent to IS. W by one: to whom she had written her infortunate state.  

YOur Letter (Cousin) scarley scene,  
I catched into my hand:  
In hope thereby some happy news,  
from you to understand,  
But when I had surnaid the same, & weighed the tevor well  
A bevy heap of sorrows did, miformer joys expel.  
I do reioyes, as doth the Swan, who ready for to die,  
With burial song salutes, her hard and doleful destiny.  
In deed, I see & know to well, how fortune spites your wealth:  
And as a tirane Goddess, doth disdain your happy health.  
Whose poison serpentine I trust, in time shall wasted be,  
Let time intends the greatest miss, & lets the captive free.  
Wherefore (good Cousin) as before, so now my barren quill  
disdaineth not in simple sort, so utter his good will.  
And to discharge the duty that, belongeth to a friend,  
Whose wealth, I would to God were such, as might your case amend  
But luck preventing every mean, that might your harms redress  
Denieth power to me that do, a friendly mind possess  
Yet Cousin, rest in perfect hope, to see the happy day,  
That shall unlade your heped, grief, & drive your cares a way  
And sith the connsel of the Gods surpass the human wit.  
Remember what the proverb saith: hereafter comes not yet.  
And ponder well the Shipman's case, whose death, the tossing tide  
Doth threaten of reassaulting sore his shaken Ship with pride  
Yet when NEPTUNUS stayeth, & calms the Seas again,  
His joys more ample are by far, then theirs the did complain  
He tells at home with jocund mind among his friend & kin  
The danger great, & deep despair, that erst his life was in  
Triumphing over Neptune's spite, whose force he felt before:  
And joys to view the Seas, when he obtained hath the shore  
So when the floods, of Fortune's spite the swell with foaming rage  
Shall stint their struggling strife, & when their malice shall as wage  
Then may you gain, & long enjoy the Haven of good hap:  
For Nurses chideful often, before they lull their child in lap.  
And take delight perhaps to tell, what troubles erst I knew,  
whose bore rehearsal might enforce, a stony heart to rue.  
why should we then, with such disdain: endure the chastisement  
wherbi, perhaps, the Gods in us, some further harms prevent  
And sith no creature may deserve, Dame junos' graces well  
why should we grudge, & blame the gods, whose goodness doth excel  
Whereas our duty bindeth us, their doings to allow:  
Whose actions all ●●e for the best, when we perceive not how  
We rather should with 〈◊〉 mind, abide the dated time  
Wherein the Gods shall us account, as worthy for to climb.  
Which after trial shall betide, to those that suffer smart:  
For: he doth ill deserve the sweet, that tasteth not the tart  
Which argueth those the for a while, doth hide the brunt of pain  
To be the owners of good hap, when Fortune turns again  
Whose number, I beseech the Gods yourself may furnish out,  
And that his eyes may see you placed, amid that happy rout  
Whose great good wit shall never die: although the want of time  
Hath done me wrong, & ever doth: in shortening of my rhyme.   
Your most loving Cousin. G. W.   

¶ IS. W. being weary of writing, sendeth this for Answer.  

NOT less than thanks, I tender unto you,  
What, though it be a beggars bore reward  
Accept the same: (for Cousin this is true,  
'tis all I have: my haps they are so hard:  
None beareth life, is so from Fortune barred,  
But this I know, and hope it once to find  
God can, and will, exalt the humble mind.   

* This simple verce: content you for to take  
for answer of your loving letter large,  
For now I will my writing clean forsake  
till of my griefs, my stomach I discharge:  
and till I row, in Lady Fortune's barge.  
Good Cousin writ not nor any more reply,  
But give me leave, more quietness to try,   
Your Cousin IS. W.    

The Author (though loath to leave the City) upon her Friends procurement, is constrained to depart: wherefore (she feigneth as she would die) and maketh her WILL and Testament, as followeth: With large Legacies of such Goods and riches which she most abundantly hath left behind her: and thereof maketh LONdon sole executor to see her Legacies performed.  

¶ A communication which the Auctor had to London, before she made her Will.  

THe time is come I must depart,  
from thee ah famous City:  
I never yet to rue my smart,  
did find that thou hadst pity,  
Wherefore small cause there is, that I  
should grieve from thee go:  
But many Women foolishly,  
like me, and other more,  
Do such a fixed fancy set,  
on those which least deserve,  
That long it is ere wit we get,  
away from them to serve,  
But time with pity often will tell  
to those that will her try:  
Whether it best be more to mell,  
or utterly defy.  
And now hath time me put & mind,  
of thy great cruelness:  
That never once a help would find,  
to ease me in distress.  
Thou never yet, wouldst credit give  
to board me for a year:  
Nor with Apparel me relieve  
except thou paid wear.  
Not, not, thou never didst me good,  
nor ever wilt I know:  
Yet am I in no angry mood,  
but will, or ere I go  
In perfect love and charity,  
my Testament here writ:  
And leave to thee such treasury,  
as I in it recite.  
Now stand a side and give me leave  
to writ my latest Will:  
And see that none you do deceive,  
of that I leave them till.    

The manner of her Will, & what she left to London: and to all those in it: at her departing.  

I Whole in body, and in mind,  
but very weak in Purse:  
Do make, and writ my Testament  
for fear it will be worse.  
And first I wholly do commend,  
my Soul and Body eke:  
To God the Father and the Son,  
so long as I can speak.  
And after speech: my Soul to him,  
and Body to the Grave:  
Till time that all shall rise again,  
their Judgement for to have.  
And then I hope they both shall meet,  
to devil for●●●●● joy:  
Whereas I trust to ●●e my Friends  
released, from all annoy.  
Thus have you heard touching my soul,  
and body what I mean:  
I trust you all will witness hear,  
I have a steadfast wain.  
¶ And now let me dispose such things,  
as I shall leave behind:  
That those which shall receive the same,  
may knowing willing mind.  
I first of all to London leave  
because I there was bred:  
Brave buildings rare, of Church's store,  
and Paul's to the head.  
Between the same: fair streets there be,  
and people goodly store:  
Because their keeping craveth cost,  
I yet will leave him more.  
First for their food, I Butchers leave,  
that every day shall kill:  
By Thames you shall have Brewer's store,  
and Bakers at your will.  
And such as orders do observe,  
and eat fish thrice a week:  
I leave two Street; full fraught therewith,  
they need not far to seek.  
Watling Street, and Canwyck street,  
I full of Woollen leave:  
And Linen store in Friday street,  
if they me not deceive.  
And those which are of calling such,  
that costlier they require:  
I Mercers leave, with silk so rich,  
as any would desire.  
In Cheap of them, they store shall find  
and likewise in that street:  
I goldsmiths leave, with jewels such,  
as are for Ladies mere.  
And Plate to furnish Cubhards with,  
full brave there shall you find:  
With Pearl of Silver and of Gold,  
to satisfy your mind.  
With Hoods, Bungraces, Hats or Caps,  
such store are in that street:  
As if on ton side you should miss  
the father serves you feet,  
For Nets of every kind of sort,  
I leave within the pawn;  
French Ruffs, high Purls, Gorgets and sleeves  
of any kind of Lawn.  
For Purse or Knives, for Comb or Glass,  
or any needful knack  
I by the Stocks have left a Boy,  
will ask you what you lack.  
I Hose do leave in Birchin Lane,  
of any kind of size:  
For Women stitchte, for men both Trunks  
and those of Gascoigne gise.  
Boötes, Shoes or Mantables good store,  
Saint Martins hath for you:  
In Cornwall, there I leave you Beds,  
and all that long thereto.  
For Women shall you Taylore have,  
by Bow, the chiefest dwell:  
In every Lane you some shall find,  
can do indifferent well.  
And for the men, few Streets or Lanes,  
but Bodymakers be:  
And such as make the sweeping Cloaks,  
with Guards beneath the Knee.  
artillery at Temple Bar,  
and Dags at Tower hill:  
Swords and Bucklers of the best,  
are nigh the Fleet until.  
Now when thy Folk are fed and clad  
with such as I have named:  
For dainty mouths, and stomachs weaks  
some junkets must be framed.  
Wherefore I Apothecary's leave,  
with Banquets in their Shop:  
Physicians also for the sick,  
Diseases for to stop,  
Some Roisters still, must hide in thee,  
and such as cut it out:  
That with the guiltless quarrel will,  
to let their blood about.  
For them I cunning Surgeons leave,  
some Plasters to apply.  
That Ruffians may not still be hanged,  
nor quiet persons die.  
For Salt, Otemeale, Candles, Soap,  
or what you else do want:  
In many places, Shops are full,  
I left you nothing scant.  
If they that keep what I you leave,  
ask Money: when they cell it:  
At Mint, there is such store, it is  
unpossible to tell it.  
At Stiliarde store of Wines there be,  
your dulled minds to glad:  
And handsome men, that must not well  
except they leave their trade.  
They often shall seek for proper Girls,  
and some perhaps shall find:  
(That need compels, or lucre lurse  
to satisfy their mind.  
And near the same, I houses leave,  
for people to repair:  
To bathe themselves, so to prevent  
infection of the air.  
On Saturdayes' I wish that those,  
which all the week do drug:  
Shall thither trudge, to trim them up  
on Sundays to look smug.  
If any other thing be lacked  
in thee, I wish them look:  
For there it is: I little brought  
but nothing from thee took.  
Now for the people in the left,  
I have done as I may:  
And that the poor, when I am gone,  
have cause for me ●●●ray.  
I will to prisons persons leave,  
what though but very small:  
Yet that they may remember me,  
occasion be it shall:  
And first the Counter they shall have,  
lest they should go to wrack:  
Some Coggers and some honest men,  
that Sergantes draw a back.  
And such as Friends will not them bail,  
whose coin the is very thin:  
For them I leave a certain hole,  
and little ease within.  
The Newgate, once a mont shall have  
a sessions for his share:  
Lest being heaped, Infection might  
procure a further care.  
And at those sessions some shall scape,  
with burning near the Thumb.  
And afterward to beg their fees  
till they have got the some.  
And such whose deeds deserveth death,  
and twelve have found the same:  
They shall be drawn up Holborn hill,  
to come to further shame:  
Well, yet to such I leave a Nag  
shall soon their sorrows cease:  
For he shall either break their necks  
or gallop from the press.  
The Fleet, not in their circuit is,  
yet If I give him naught:  
It might procure uss curse, ere I  
unto the ground be brought.  
Wherefore I leave some Papist old  
to under prop his roof:  
And to the poor within the same,  
a Boar for their behoof.  
What makes you standers by to smile.  
and laugh so in your sleeve:  
I think it is, because that I  
to Ludgate nothing give.  
I am not now in case to lie,  
here is no place of jest:  
I did reserve, that for myself,  
if I my health possessed.  
And ever came in credit so  
a debtor for to be.  
When days of payment did approach,  
I thither meant to flee.  
To shroud myself amongst the rest,  
that choose to die in debt:  
Rather than any Creditor,  
should money from them get.  
Yet cause I feel myself so weak  
that none me credit dare:  
I here revoke: and do it leave,  
some Bankrupts to his share.  
To all the Bookcases by Paulles  
because I like their Art:  
They ery week shall money have,  
when they from Books depart.  
Among them all, my Printer must,  
have some what to his share:  
I will my Friends them Books is buy  
of him, with other ware  
For, Maiden poor, I Widdoers rich,  
do leave, that often shall date:  
And by that means shall marry them,  
to set the Girls afloat.  
And wealth Widows will I leave,  
to help young gentlemen:  
Which when you have, in any case  
be courteous to them then:  
And see their Plate and jewels eke  
may not be marred with rust.  
Nor let their Bags too long be full,  
for fear that they do burst.  
To ery Gate under the walls,  
that compass thee about:  
I Fruit wines leave to entertain  
such as come in and out.  
To Smithfeelde I must something leave  
my Parents there did devil:  
So careless for to be of it,  
none would account it well.  
Wherefore it thrice a week shall have,  
of Worse and neat good store.  
And in his Spittle, blind and lame,  
to devil for evermore.  
And Bedlam must not be forgot,  
for that was often my walk:  
I people there too many leave,  
that out of tune do talk.  
At Bridewell there shall Bedelles be,  
and Matrons that shall still  
See Chalk well chopped, and spinning plied;  
and turning of the Mill.  
For such as cannot quiet be,  
but strive for House or Land:  
At Th'inns of Court, I Lawyers leave  
to take their cause in hand.  
And also leave I at each Inn  
of Court, or Chauncerye:  
Of gentlemen, a youthful root,  
full of activity:  
For whom I store of Books have left,  
at each bookbinder's stall:  
And part of all that London hath  
to furnish them withal.  
And when they are with study cloyed:  
to recreate their mind:  
Of Tennis Courts, of dancing Schools,  
and fence they store shall find.  
And every Sunday at the lest,  
I leave to make them sport.  
In divers places Players, that  
of wonders shall report.  
Now London have I (for thy sake)  
within thee, and without:  
As comes into my memory,  
disspearsed round about  
Such needful things, as they should have  
here left now unto thee:  
When I am gone, with conscience.  
let them dispearced he.  
And though I nothing named have,  
to bury mae withal:  
Consider that above the ground,  
annoyance be I shall.  
And let me have a shrouding Sheet  
to cover me from shame:  
And in oblivion bury me  
and never more me name.  
rings nor other Ceremonies,  
use you not for cost:  
Nor at my burial, make no feast,  
your money were but lost.  
Rejoice in God that I am gone,  
out of this vale to vile.  
And that of each thing, left such store,  
as may your wants exile.  
I make thee sole executor, because  
I loved thee best.  
And thee I put in trust, to give  
the goods unto the rest.  
Because thou shalt a helper need,  
In this so great a charged,  
I wish good Fortune, be thy guide, lest  
thou shouldst run at large.  
The happy days and quiet times,  
they both her Servants be.  
Which well will serve to fetch and bring,  
such things as need to thee.  
¶ Wherefore (good London) not refuse,  
for helper her to take:  
Thus being weak and weary both  
an end here will I make.  
To all that ask what end I made,  
and how I went away:  
Thou answer mayst like those which here,  
no longer tarry may.  
And unto all that wish me well,  
or rue that I am gone:  
Do me commend, and bid them cease  
my absence for to moon.  
And tell them further, if they would,  
my presence still have had:  
They should have sought to mend my luck;  
which ever was too bad.  
So far thou well a thousand times,  
God shield thee from thy foe:  
And still make thee victorious,  
of those that seek thy woe.  
And (though I am persuade) that I  
shall never more thee see:  
Yet to the ●●●●●not cease  
to wish m 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 oh thee  
This, xx. of O●●ober I,  
in ANNO DOMIN●●  
A Thousand: v. hundred ●●●●●●  
as Almanacs de●●●●  
Did writ this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ne hand  
and it to London gave:  
In witness of the standers by,  
whose names if you will have  
Paper, Pen and Standish were  
at that same present by:  
With Time, who promised to reveal,  
so fast as she could by●  
The same: lest of my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
for anything should vary:  
So finally I make an end  
no longer can I tarry.   
¶ FINIS. by IS. W.