A light Bondell of liuly discourses called Churchyards Charge, presented as a New years gift to the right honourable, the Earl of Surrie, in which Bondell of verses is such variety of matter, and several inventions, that may be as delightful to the Reader, as it was a Charge and labour to the writer, set forth for a piece of pastime, by Thomas churchyard Gent.  
¶ Imprinted at London, by John Kyngston.  
1580.   

¶ To the right honourable my especial good Lord the Earl of Surrey: Thomas churchyard wisheth many happy New years, Fortunate days and weeks, increase of honour and virtue, with most assured felicity.  
I Know not my good lord, whether my boldness and presumption be greater, than the baseness of my matter herein penned, and I mind to present: considering the worthiness of the parsonage, to whom I dedicate my book, and the weakness of my wit, that presenteth vain verses, where virtue of the mind aboundeth. But for that I treat not of mere trifles, (nor mean to corrupt sound senses, and good manners with wanton words or lewd rhyme) I am partly persuaded this mine Newyeres gift, shall give your lordship delight, and purchase to myself the desired thanks, that every honest writer deserveth: Because the substance and effect of all my inventions, are shadowed under the shield of good meaning: And a matter well meant (by the courtesy of true construction) may pass the muster & good opinion of the people, among the best assemblies that looketh on the furniture I bring, and ableness of my pen. And albeit some weapons want to beat back the thomping bolts of evil tongues (in my defence be it spoken) yet the Armour of right, and Target of troth shall be sufficient to strike down the blows, that haughty hearts with threatening thwarts can offer. And who so ever hastily or unadvisedly through malicious words, hinders the credit of any honest works, may be thought both a rash and a partial speaker, & a busy meddler in matters, they neither mind to amend, nor nor will suffer that the world shall speak well thereof. But now farther to proceed, & enter into the cause of this my boldness, the troth is in calling to remembrance à promise that I made, touching some verses. And honouring in heart the Earl of Surrie, your Lordships grandfather, & my master (who was a noble warrior, an eloquent Orator, and a second Petrarke) I could do no less but publish to the world somewhat that should show, I had lost no time in his service. And finding an other of his race and towardness, who hath taste and feeling in the good gifts of Nature, and noble virtues of his ancestors, (the hope of which graces, promiseth great perfection to follow in time to come) I thought I might dedicate a book unto your Lordship, named by mine own liking Churchyards Charge. But now right noble Earl, the world loving change and variety of matter, waxeth awearie of frevoulous verses (because so many are writers of Mieter) and looketh for some learned discourse, by which means my barren books may remain unred, or misliked, and so lie on the Stationer's stall, as a silly sign of a new nothing, neither worth the buying, nor the regarding. To that I may answer (under pardon and correction) that the ground which of Nature yieldeth, but Thistles or Brambles, may bring forth no good Corn of itself, contrary to his operation and kind. Nor a man that is accustomed to treat of trifles may, not meddle with the deepness of grave arguments. For as it passes the search and capacity of a simple wit, to see into any matter of importance, so it is necessary that a pleasant and plain companion, should always be occupied about pastimes, and namely at Christmas, when little short tales, drives out a piece of the long nights, and rather with mirth to procure a laughter, then with sadness provoke a lowering: and he that stirreth up the heavy minds to light some consaites, is more welcome in every place, than he that overthrows the weak senses of common people, with curious imaginations, and burdens both body and mind, with words of greater weight, then common judgement can conceive, and be able to bear. A tale or a toy mirrely delivered, pleaseth most men's ears: and an earnest sad argument, either rocks a man a sleep, or maketh the hearers a weary. And the nature of Rhyme is to revive the spirits, or move a smile, when many a one is scarce pleasantly disposed. A Rhyme goeth on such feet, standeth on such joints, and rappeth out such reasons, that wisdom taketh pleasure in, and folly will make a wonder of. The words by invention hits a thing so iompe, and keeps such a decorum and method, that both order and measure is seen, in the cunning conveyance of the verses, especially if the sweet and smooth sentences be sifted, from the sour rough Bran of needless babble and vanity. A sensible wit having the penning of the matter. But lo my good Lord, in showing the nature and quality of a good verse, how my hobbling is seen, and perceived by the badness, or bare handling of the things herein written: yet now I have run so far in overweening, that either I am forced to go forward, or remain in the midway discomforted, and without remedy. Wherefore, albeit I shall show but a bondell of dry devices, I must open my farthel, & make sale of such stuff, as my head hath been stuffed withal: Even like the poor Peddlar, that trudgeth with his pack to a Fair, and there unfoldeth among some new laces & odd trifles, a great deal of old ware and little rennantes, that for lack of quick sale, hath lain long in a close corner. I need not to seek out a patron to support them: for they are neither worth the reading, nor the buying, yet having no better, am compelled to utter the things I have left. Providing that my next book may show somewhat among the rest that goeth before: for that it shall be dedicated to the most worthiest (and towards noble man), the Earl of Oxford, as my laisure may serve, and yet with great expedition. Thus being over tedious and bold, in stretching out a short and sorry Epistle (that had been better knit up in few lines) I wish your Lordship many new and happy years, long life to your liking, to the honour of GOD, and increase of good fame: and a piece or portion of each goodness can be named. From my lodging near to the Court the first day of januarie. Your Lordships always at commaundement●.  
Thomas Churchyard.   

To the friendly Reader.  
I Daily trouble the good Reader with Books, Verses, Pamflettes, and many other trifling things, as much to hold thee occupied in good will towards me (and keep thee from loss of time) as for any matter that I either can gain glory by, or deserveth to be embraced: but using me and my works thankfully, and paying me for my pains, with the like courtesy, that other men reapeth for their labours, I think my study well bestowed, and promise yet with my pen, to pleasure thee farther. And for that I would have all men to think, that in troth and plainness I have great felicity, and do hate any kind of flattery or fineness. I mean in my next book, called my Challenge, to run over many of mine other works, and where peradventure by some report of others, (that knew not the troth,) I have failed in setting forth of some services, among the which Master John Norrice, and divers worthy gentlemen Captains now in Flaunders, have not the worthiness of their services declared. I do promise that now being better instructed, and having true intelligence of things as they were, I will at large write the commendation of as many, as merits to be honoured for their well doing, and make amends, where either by ignorance, or the report of others I have failed. For so sure as GOD is Almighty, if I could gain mountains of gold, to flatter any one in Printing an untruth, I would rather wish my hands were of, then take in hand such a matter. For neither affection, favour, commodity, fame, nor partiality, at no time nor season, shall willingly lead my pen amiss. And farther, if I thought any one for his own glories sake, had told me more than is truly to be proved: I would not only condemn myself for giving such hasty credit, to vainglorious people: But in like sort my pen should show the blot in their brows, that giveth me wrong advertisements. And so good Reader, condemn not me if anything be amiss, or left out that ought to have been touched: For as I know and am instructed) seeing not all myself) I must write, and so till my next book come forth (where many things shall be treated of) and that my good will to the honouring of virtue shall be seen. I bid thee far well friendly Reader, craving thy favourable judgement on that I have written. From those men for whom my book hath been a blast of fame unto (as I did believe by the true trumpet of pen) are not of such great ability, that either their purses power or countenances, could comptll me to follow their humours: nor by any means work my muse to their wills, whose richesse and wealth is not able (if men would be hired) to wrest a wry the hand and head of an honest writer. And to make manifest that I neither will be infected, nor carried away from that which is good, for any bad practice and persuasions, I confess before GOD and the world, I scarce have received thanks, for the honest labours I have taken (at their hands that I have written of) much less have I been recompensed, or found cause to flatter the world. But in one thing I may rejoice, the honourable person to whom my Choice is dedicated (and others of great calling) hath both been grateful sundry ways (in most bountiful manner:) and also hath encouraged me to proceed in the like pains, which in very deed I mind to go about as well to the fame and glory of good men, as for the advoiding of sloth and idleness myself.  
FINIS.   

¶ A story translated out of French.  
IN old time passed in Picardy,  
there dwelled an honest man,  
Whose name the story doth not tell,  
what he was called than:  
A wife he had, a house he held,  
as Farmer's use to do,  
And lacked little for the same,  
that did belong there too.  
And as God sent him suffisance,  
to rub forth life here lent,  
So for to cheer unwieldy age, fair children God him sent:  
Of which he had one moste in mind, a lad of liuly spirit,  
Who with great care he kept to school, as for his youth was meet.  
This boy to glad his father's heart, in books set his delight,  
And learned to make a Latin verse, to read and eke to wri●e:  
And for his Nature was inclined, to study learnyngs lore,  
The better he applied his school, he profited the more.  
To make his school the sweeter seem, with Music mixed was,  
The study that he followed then, the time away to pass:  
Good books were bought and instruments, great charge was but small let,  
If that thereby the father might, the son some knowledge get.  
In seven years (as time it was,) this stripling 'gan to taste,  
Time well employed, time driven forth, and time ill spent in was●e,  
And made no small account thereof, but still sought more to have,  
Wherewith he to his father came, on knees this did he crave.  
I have qd he dear father now, my childish days over run,  
And as I think, and you believe, my boys delights are done:  
And as my wit and grace hath served, some learning have I got,  
And as I know you love me well, on me you should not dot●.  
I mean I should not still at home, under my mother's wing,  
Be brought up like a wanton child, and do no other thing:  
The world is wide, I want no wit, your wealth is not so great,  
But you may think in some dear year, I scarce deserve my meat.  
And though your kind and custom is, full fatherlike alway,  
Yet should your son discretion have, to ease you as he may:  
Wherefore to make your burden less, let me go seek my hap,  
And let no longer now your son, be lullde in mother's lap.  
The father wise well understood, his child's request at full,  
And that the feathers of his youth, he thought away to pull:  
(Before he gave him leave to part) by council grave and sage,  
Well boy quoth he now art thou come, unto thy flowering age.  
Now art thou like the little wand, that bend and bound will be,  
Unto his hand or to his skill, that list to master thee:  
Now are ripe years soon rotten made, now art thou apt to take,  
Both good and bad, but chiefly things, that age bids thee forsake.  
And now large scope shall soon forget, what short rain learned in school  
And thou that wisely wast brought up, shall play the wanton fool.  
Abroad as wild harebrains are wont, new taken from their book,  
And in a while lay all a side, near after their on look.  
In every place of thy repair, thou shalt no father find,  
Nor scarce a friend to whom thou mayest, at all times sho thy mind:  
But on God's blessing go thy way, thy wild Oats are unsowne,  
Hereafter time shall learn thee well, things to thee now unknown.  
The lad his leave and farewell took, well furnished for the nonce,  
And had about him as I trow, his treasure all at once:  
To court he came all masterless, and saw what liked him best,  
Of running Leather were his shues, his feet no where could rest:  
His books to blade and bucklar changed, he gave over scholars trade,  
Where revel roysted all in ruff, there he his residence made.  
This rule had soon his purse so picked, that princocks wanted pence,  
And oft he saw some trussed up, that made but small offence:  
His father far from seeing this, he come of honest stock,  
He hoffring forth a hateful life, in many a wicked flock.  
And pricked oft to slipper shifts, yet some regard he took,  
To be a slander to his kin, that kept him to his book:  
And in a better mood to thrive, to service did he draw,  
He must go that the devil drives, ye know need hath ●o law.  
A master of no mean estate, a mirror in those days,  
His happy Fortune than him gate, whose virtues must I praise:  
More heavenly were those gifts he had, then earthly was his form.  
His corpse to worthy for the grave, his flesh no meat for worm.  
An Earl of birth, a God of spirit, a Tully for his tongue,  
Me think of right the world should shake, when half his praise were rung:  
Oh cursed are those crooked crafts, that his own country wrought.  
To chop of such a chosen head, as our time near forth brought.  
His knowledge crept beyond the stars, & reached to Ioues high throne  
The bowels of the earth he saw, in his deep breast unknown:  
His wit looked through each man's device, his judgement grounded was,  
Almost he had foresight to know, ere things should come to pass.  
When they should fall what should betied, oh what a loss of weight,  
Was it to lose so ripe a head, that reached such a height:  
In every art he feeling had, with pen past Petrarke sure,  
A fashion framed which could his foes, to friendship oft allure.  
His virtues could not keep him here, but rather wrought his harms,  
And made his enemies murmur oft, & brought them in by swarms:  
Whose practice put him to his plunge, and lost his life thereby,  
Oh can●red breasts that have such hearts, wherein such hate doth lie.  
As told I have, this young man served, this master twice two year▪  
And learned therein such fruitful skill, as long he held full dear:  
And used the pen as he was taught, and other gifts also,  
Which made him hold the cap on head, where some do croch full lo.  
As credit came he careful was, how to maintain the same,  
And made small count of life or death, to keep his honest name:  
His father not a little glad, of his good hap thus found,  
And he forgot no duty sure, to whom he ought be bound.  
From court to wars he wound about, a soldiers life to lead,  
And leaned to the worthiest sort, their steps to march and tread:  
And followed Cannon wheel as fast, to learn some knowledge then,  
As he afore at masters heels, did waste with serving men.  
But those two lives a difference have, at home good cheer he had,  
Abroad full many a hungry meal, and lodging very bad:  
All day in corselet cased fast, which made his shoulders ache,  
All night upon a couch of straw, right glad his rest to take.  
Through thick & thin a thriftless time, he spent & felt much grief,  
And ever hoping for the same, at length to find relief:  
No small while there as ye have hard, in cold sharp winter nights,  
Where he did feel strange plags enough, and saw full ugly sights.  
Some die for lack, some seek for death, some live as though there were  
Ne God nor man, nor torment here, or hence we ought to fe●e:  
But yet he marked some of that sort, whose estimation stood;  
Upon each point of honest name, and things that seemed good.  
He saw likewise how Fortune played, with some men for a while,  
And after paid them home for all, and so did them beguile:  
A weary of these wasting woes, a while he left the war,  
And for desire to learn the tongues, he traveled very far.  
And had of every language part, when homeware did he draw,  
And could rehearsal make full well, of that abroad he saw:  
To study wholly was he bend, but countries cause would not,  
But he should haunt the wars again, assigned thereto by lot.  
And eke by hope and all vain hap, procured to the same,  
As though each other glory grew, on wars and warlike fame:  
Without the which no world's renown, was worth a fly he heeled,  
For that is honour won in deed, once got within the field.  
Thus in his head and high conceit, he judged that best of all,  
And thought no mouth for Sugar meet, that could not cast the gall:  
Good luck and bad mixed in one cup, he drank to quench his thirst,  
And better brooked the second wars, than he did like the first.  
And less found fault with fortunes freaks, time had so well him taught  
At chances sour he changed no cheer, nor at sweet haps much laughed:  
In prison thrice, in danger oft, both hurt and mangled sore,  
And all in service of his prince, and all away he wore.  
In mean estate in office too, sometime a single pay,  
Some time few had so much a week, as he was loud a day:  
When world waxed wise, & wealth did fail & prince's pride paid,  
And empty purse, and privy plagues, for perfit peace had called.  
And kings and kingdoms quiet were, this man to court he came,  
New from the gives with face and looks; as simple as a Lame:  
Fresh from his enemy's hands came he, where for his country's right,  
He prisned was and forced to grant, a randsome past his might.  
Sent home upon a band and seal, which is to strange a trade,  
There to remain till he for help, some honest shift had made:  
All spoiled fleane bare as the bird, whose feathers plucked have been,  
Both sick and weak his colour gone, with cheeks full pale and thin.  
The sight so strange or world so n●●ght, or God would have it so,  
This man had scarce a welcome home, which made him muse I trow  
His country not as he it left, all changed was the state,  
But all one thing this man deserved, therein no cause of hate.  
A careless look on him they cast, savyng a few in deed,  
Through wars brought 〈◊〉 for service sake, & felt thereby his need  
Of such as could & difference make, of drum and trumpets sound,  
(From tqabor pipe & Maypole mirth,) their helping hands he found:  
And those that favoured featts of war, and savour took therein▪  
With open arms embraced him hard, and said where haste thou been.  
But none of these could do him good, to set him up I mean,  
His friends decayed his father dead, and household broke up clean:  
Crave could he not, his heart so high, it would not stoop to steal,  
He scorned to serve a foreign prince, prefarring common weal.  
Above all other things on yearth, his country honoured he,  
At home he like more poor estate, than thence a lord to be:  
Where should he sue where run those springs, could co●● his fever hot,  
Where dared he moon or plain for shame, where might relief begot:  
But at the fountain or well head, y●a at his Prince's hand,  
And in a few well couched lines, to make her understand:  
His case his scourge, lo so he did, and boldly did he tell,  
The same himself unto the Prince, who knows the man full well.  
And gracious words three times he gate, the fourth to tell you plain  
Unfruitful was things were strait laest, fair words mak● fools full fain:  
When prince nor country made no count, of him nor of his car●,  
And none of both would help him home, of who he soughe for grace.  
For whom and for their cause alone, in enemies hands he fell,  
And for their right to wars he went, as all men knows full well:  
And lost his blood for their defence, and for their quarrel fought;  
And for the same full slenderly, looked to and set at nought.  
When he his duty to his power, did every day and year,  
Such unkind guerdon had received, as well before you here:  
He said let Marcus Regulus in same of Romans stand,  
Which kept his oath and did return, again to Carthage land.  
If Tully were a live to write, his praises more at full,  
Yet since I scaped my enemies hands, at home abide I will:  
He should not me persuade to go, where nought but death is found,  
My country cares not for my life, then why should I be bound.  
To toys or any other band, that I have power to break,  
Which I was forced by my foe, in person for to speak:  
And for the hope of country's help, and friends that there I had,  
In any sort to please my foes, I was both feign and glad.  
Not minding if my country would, release me from his hand,  
To break good order any whit, or violate my band:  
For justice bids each man do right, which God doth know I meant,  
But now a captive yield myself, it may not me content.  
For where that Tully doth affirm, men ought ● keep their oath,  
Unto their friends in every point, and to their enemies both:  
And bringeth Marcus Regulus, example for the same,  
With other reasons many a one, which were too long to name.  
He showed that the Senates all, would him have stayed at Rome,  
And as in counsel than they sat, their judgement and their doom.  
Was that the prisoners should be free, which they of Carthage held.  
And he should stay, full oft his friends, this tale to him they teld:  
They proffered help, and offered still▪ this Marcus to redeem,  
But Marcus for a further skill, did little that esteem.  
I find no succour hope nor aid, then bound why should I be.  
More to my country in this case, that country is to me:  
These words this heavy man rehearsed, so bade the wars adieu,  
And thought he would no ransom pay, for any thing he knew.  
Wherefore from court he turned his face, and so an oath he swore,  
As long as he his five wits had, to come in court no more:  
He kept that oath and cut his cote, as cloth and measure would,  
And down to Picarvie he comes, some said at thirty year old.  
And for his lands and rents were small, a master lent he too,  
Who used his servant not so well, as masters ought to do:  
He was not made out of that mould, that his last master was,  
These two in virtues were as like, as Gold was unto Glass.  
Upon a day alone he sat, and said these words right sad,  
Are soldiers cast at cart's arse now, that long fair words have had:  
Shall kings near need for help again, is fortune so their friend,  
Have they a patent of the Gods, this peace shall never end.  
God grant yet will I shift I trow, for on or hap shall fail,  
And in the storms my ship shall learn, to bear a quiet sail:  
And clean forget brave days ago, that fed my youthful years,  
Full glad that I have gotten home, and scape the s●rattyng Breers.  
Of wars and other worldly toils, adieu I see their fine,  
A wife shall now content my mind, such as the Gods assign:  
A wooing thus this hapless man, road forth not set to sale,  
Thought none like him in this his suit, was meet to tell his tale.  
And as the heavens had agreed, the Planets well were bend,  
He soon descended from his horse, and boldly in he went.  
Where dwelled a sober widow then, both wise and wifly too,  
Late fallen sick, unknown to him, that time unfit to woe:  
But her discretion was so great, and his behaviour both,  
These strangers fell acquainted thus, if ye will know the troth.  
He feigned an other ernd to make, dissembling yet a space,  
Till he might spy a better time, to show her all his care:  
So taking leave for friends he wrought, to bring this thing about,  
In such affairs some spoke full fair, that are full well to doubt.  
For commonly men take no cars, of others suits for why,  
Their profit as they guess themselves, in hindering that may lie:  
Some promise help and see no gain, may spring to them thereof,  
Wax cold and slow for lack of spur, and use it as a scoff.  
another sort with stinging tongues, say masters take good heed,  
This man will soon your feathers pull, and cast ye of at need:  
Will you that have both wealth and ease, to young men's curtsy stand,  
And let an other master be, of that is in your hand.  
Some seeking rule of that she hath, and fleecing from her first,  
Do faun and flatter all the day, and guide her as they list:  
And live on her, and hate her life, and wait her death to see,  
And well can please her while she lives, her sectors for to be.  
Such instruments these widows have, about them every hour,  
Perchance this man perceived the like, and had good cause to lower:  
But as he knew the fatal chance, of things comes from above,  
So he began and sought to know, the fine of all his love.  
And found a day full apt therefore, at large the same he told,  
And flatly this her answer was, she never marry would:  
If no new thoughts fell in her mind, whereof no doubt she made,  
Except she chose a wealthy man, that had a grounded trade.  
To live and had a hoard of gold, to keep them both from debt,  
Good sir quoth she on riches sure, my mind is fully set:  
I can with riches virtues make, virtue with want is bare,  
I pray you come no more at me, thus answered now ye are.  
I would be loath to hold you on, with words and mean in deed,  
That neither you for all your suit, nor any yet shall speed:  
He hearing this hanged down the head, and smiled to cloak his woe  
A word or two he after spoke, and parted even so.  
The way he road, he cursed himself, for cruel death he cried,  
And said oh wretch thou livest to long, to long here dost thou bide:  
Not only for this froward hap, but for all other chance,  
At any time thou tookst in hand, thyself for to advance.  
Thy virtues aught if they may be, serves thee no whit at all,  
Thy learning stands thee in no steed, thy travel helps as small:  
Thy knowledge sought in wars abroad, at home doth thee no good,  
Thy language is but laughed at here, where some would suck thy blood  
Thy Poets vain and gift of pen, that pleasured thousands long,  
Hath now enough to do to make, of there a woeful song:  
Thy friends that long a winning were, in court and country plain,  
Doth serve thee to as good a end, as mirth doth sick man's pain.  
Thy youth though part be left behind, whose course yet is to run,  
With brag of show or seemly shape, what botie hath it won:  
Thy honest life or manly heart, that through each storm hath pa●●e,  
Thy reputation hardly won, what helps thee now at last.  
Thus to his chamber in his heat, he comes with soming mouth,  
And in his bloody breast he felt, full many fits uncouth:  
And on the bed he laid him down, and for his Lute he reached,  
And broke a two those guiltless strings, as he had been bestraught.  
And ere he flung it to the walls, my plai●fe●re far thou well,  
Said he as sweet as Orpheus' Harp, that won his wife from hell:  
You Instruments each one of you, keep well your care of wood,  
And to the scralling eating worms▪ I you bequeath as food.  
Up stepped he to his study door, all that stood in his way  
He broke and burnt both book and scroull, and made a foul array:  
Some authors say that could not be, his wisdom did assuage,  
The inward passions of his mind, and heat of all his rage.  
But well I wot he did prepare, to part from friends and all,  
And stayed but till the Spring came on, for leaf was at the fall:  
Now all these storms and tempests past, this man had such a vain,  
When matter moved, and cause requierd, he went to wars again.  
And studying Fortune all a like, as hapless people do,  
He fell strait ways in enemies hands, and was sore wounded too:  
But taken pris●●●, promesd much, though little had too pai●,  
(A subtle shift to save the life, and scape a bloody fray.)  
Yet still because he gallant was, and had some charge of men,  
He held up head, and in strange place, took much upon him then:  
The enemy ●●y●g this young man, both well brought up and trained,  
As one that kept such state and grace, as he deceit disdained.  
And to be plain (in every point) upon such terms he stood,  
As his dissent and offspring came, of high and noble blood:  
Of gentle race he might make boast, but of so great a stock,  
He ●ould not vaunt for that device, was but a scorn and mock.  
Well by this means he was so liked, and made of every where,  
That all that land rang of the fame, and brute that he did bear:  
And so the Princes of that realm, to court did call him tho,  
Where he with feasts and triumphs great, and many a courtly sho.  
Past of the time, and grew so far, in favour with the best,  
That he would play at Dice and Cards, and so set up his rest:  
For he had money when he would, and went so gay and brave,  
On credit that he finely won, as much as he could crave.  
And when to takers house again, this prisoner should repair,  
The greatest lords of all that soil, when he would take the air:  
Would in a manner wait at hand, to do this prisoner ease,  
And well were they of all degrees, that best this man could please.  
A number of his nation then, of right great wealth and state,  
By this man's word & only band, strait way their freedom gate▪  
For he was bound for every one, that token were before,  
And so did for their ransom lie, and running ●n the score.  
And braving out the matter through, a Lady of great race,  
In honest sort, and friendly mean, his friendship did embrace:  
Who promesd him, to set him free, and help him thence in haste,  
But still about this prisoner lo, a privy guard was placed.  
Yea such a band and daily watthe, as he might not deceive,  
Yet he had hope in spite to scape, away without their leave:  
And shaped to fly, and give the slip, if Fortune would agree,  
The watch and ward, should be beguiled, and prisoner should go free.  
And as these things a doing were, a man of much renown,  
Was taken after in the field, and brought so to the touch:  
Where hearing of this other wight, was asked if he did know,  
The former person named before, that daily brand it so.  
He is quoth he that last was caught, a lusty Soldier sur●,  
A man that mucche hath felt of woe, and great things can endure●  
Of gentle blood and manners both, and wants but ●●●lth alone,  
What what ●ir knight, have you said troth, and is he such a 〈◊〉,  
Then shall he ●ye his braury dear, and pay therefore so well,  
He shall not boast of that he gains, in heaven nor in hell:  
So all in ●uerie flung he forth, and to this man he goes,  
That was in deed so far in debt, for one ate for drink and clo●●.  
And thrust him in a prison strong, where feeble food he had,  
And heavy Irons which might make ●● silly soul f●●st sad:  
His mistress knowing of the case, her promise thought to keep,  
So making in a Moon shine night, when neighbours were a sleep.  
She drew her near the prison door, and at a window pried,  
Where planly full before her view, her servant had she spied:  
To whom she spoke and told her mind, as closely as she might,  
And gave him council in good time, to steal away by night.  
And left him ●iles to set him free, and robes to do him good,  
With some hard eggs and bread in bag, and told him near a wood:  
There was a broom, where she would wait, for him when time drew o●  
That doeu she took a friendly leave, for than she must be gone.  
The prisoner did devise his best, and bend to do or die,  
Prepaerd each thing in order well, as he on straw did lie:  
The time approach, of his adieu, and she was come in deed,  
Unto the place appointed right, with go●d and ●ealth for need.  
But breaking down a rotten wall, the prisoner was in fear,  
For out of bed his keeper stepped, and asked who was there:  
With that the prisoner stumbled on, a hatcher sharp and keen,  
And reached the geater such a blow, that long was felt and seen.  
He cried and ro●e● like a bull, where at the v●ssage throw,  
Was up and straight to horseback went, but lo the prisoner now:  
Was at the wood, where he had found, his mistress all alone,  
Who wept and blubbered like a child, and made so great a moan.  
For that they both in danger were, but what should more be said,  
The man plucked up his heart and spirits, the woman sore afraid:  
Ran home again to father's house, and he that now was free,  
Had neither mind on gold nor gift, but to the Brome goes he.  
And there abode a happy hour, yea two days long at least,  
He lay as close on ●old bare ground, as bird doth in warm nest:  
His mistress well escaped home, and in the house she was,  
Before the cry and alarm tose, so blameless did she pass.  
And her poor servant, had wide world, to walk in now at will,  
Although he was in hazard great, and long in danger still:  
For he had three score mile to go, among his enemies all,  
Which he did ●rudge in foul dark nights, and so as hap did fall.  
He scape a scourge and scouring both, and came where he desired,  
And finely had deceived his foes, what could be more requierd:  
Yet long at home he 〈◊〉 not rest, to wars again he went,  
Where in great seriate sundry times, but half a year he spent.  
And lo his Deasmi● was so strange, he taken was again,  
And clapped up closely for a spy, and there to tell you plain:  
He was condemned to lose his head, no other hope he saw,  
The day drew on of his dispatch, to die by Martial law.  
The people swarming in the streets, and scaffold ready there,  
A noble Dame, his respi●● traued, and spoke for him so fear:  
That then the master of the Camp, his honest answer hard,  
For which he came ●●credite straight, and was at length preferred.  
To right good room and wages too, then richly home he drew,  
And left the wars, and in great heat, he for a wife did sew.  
But haste makes waste, an old proverb, for he was w●●d in deed,  
God send all Soldiers in their age, some better luck at need:  
Now he be thought him on the words, the widow told him of,  
Which long he held but as a jest, a scorn and merry scoff.  
She said that wit and wealth were good, but who a wiving goes  
Must needs be sure of wealth before, else he his suit shall lose:  
For want but breeds misliking still, and wit will decave but woe,  
(In lovers lomes, where cloth is racked, as far as thread will go)  
And when the thread of wealth doth break, let wit and wisdom too  
Do what they can to tie the thread, the knot will sure undo.  
The story treats no more thereof, yet therein may you see,  
That some have virtues and good wit, and yet unlucky be.  
In winning wealth, in worldly haps, which common are of kind,  
To all and yet the use thereof, but to a few a sinde:  
For some have all their parents left, all they themselves can catch,  
And ten men's liings in one hand, and some have near a patch.  
And some not borne to sixteen pence, find twenty ways to get,  
By hap yet some as wise as they, no hand thereon may set:  
I heard a white hoar headed man, in this opinion dwell,  
That wit with wealth, & hap with wit, would 'gree together well.  
But for to choose▪ the one alone, he held that hap was best,  
He said wit was a happy gift, but wealth made all the feast:  
Wit with the wise must company keep, then cold oft is his cheer,  
Wealth hath companions every where, and banquets all the year.  
Wealth hath the way the cap and knee, and twenty at his tail,  
When wit hath near a resting place, no more than hath a Snail:  
Wit is compelled to be a slave, to wealth and serve him still,  
Yet wealth is naked without wit, nought worth where lacketh skill.  
But if that wealth may match with hap, then bid fine wit go plea,  
Our old Proverb is given me hap, and cast me in the Sea:  
Unhappy must I judge this man, in sundry sorts and ways,  
Yet fortunate I call him then, in true report of praise.  
The chiefest jewel of our life, is virtues la●de well won,  
Which liu's within the other world, when fame of this is done:  
FINIS.   

¶ Churchyards farewell from the Court, the second year of the Queen's majesties reign.  
THough Fortune casts me at her heel,  
And lifts you up upon her wheel:  
You ought not joy in my ill hap,  
Nor at my harms, your hands to clapp.  
For calms may come, and skies may clear,  
And I may change, this mourning cheer:  
To gladsome thoughts, and merry looks,  
Although you fish, with golden hooks.  
And make the world, bite at your baits,  
And feed yourselves, with sweet conceits:  
Mine angling may, at length amend,  
My rod it can, both bow and bend.  
As causes falls, for my behoof,  
I leave you Courtiers in your ruff:  
I will go live, with plainer men,  
And use my book, and ply my pen.  
Perhaps that I, asmuch have seen,  
As they that braves, it on the Spleen:  
Where Cannon roared, and Drum did sound,  
I did not learn, to dance a round:  
And vaunt I may, my hap the worse,  
I have with many, a thread bare purse.  
Been glad to serve, in Country's cause,  
When you at home, were picking straws:  
Since you did spite, my doings all,  
And toss from me, the tennis ball.  
By words and works, and privy nips,  
A man may say, beshrew your lips:  
And use a kind, of riding Rhyme,  
To such as wool, not let me climb.  
Where every one, would Apples sheake,  
Though at the highest, the bows are weak:  
The Crow bilds there, full safe ye wot,  
And near the top, the fruit is got:  
Well I full low, must bear my sails,  
In climbing often, footing fails.  
Watch you the ball, at first rebound,  
So I may stand, on even ground:  
And play at pleasure, when I please,  
I am not grieved at your ease.  
Although that you, with shifting brain,  
Do reap the profit of my pain:  
And thrusts your heads, tween hap and me,  
Whose hands do pluck, the bark from tree.  
So great and greedy is your gripe,  
You eat the fruit, ere it be ripe:  
And none may feed, but you alone,  
You can not spare, a dog a bone.  
Ye cleave together, so like Burrs,  
Perhaps in winning of the Spurs:  
You may the horse, and saddle lose,  
When that her head, whose virtue flows.  
Shall see the deepness of your sleight,  
And set your crooked dealings straight:  
And all your painted sheaths espy,  
And way what stuff, in shadows lie.  
Think you she smiles not once a day,  
To see how many vices play:  
Upon the stage, where matter lacks,  
You do no sooner turn your backs▪  
But greater laughing riseth there,  
Then at the baiting of a Bear:  
Me think you choose, your shop not well,  
In Court your follies for to sell.  
That shop stands full, within the wind,  
Or else so much, in people's mind:  
That if one fault be in your ware,  
Ten thousand eyes, thereon do stare.  
And when they find, a counterfeit,  
Or see, fine merchants use deseite:  
They cry a loud, we smell a Rat,  
Some have more wit, within their hat.  
Then in their head, that sells such stuff,  
Well every man, unto his ruff:  
And I into, my coat of Frees,  
For I in Court, can hive no Bees:  
The Home there, is bought so dear,  
I were as good, with country cheer.  
Sit free in mind, and far from states,  
And daily match, me with my mats:  
As wait among, the haughty breed,  
Whose humourss are, full hard to feed.  
Where small is won, and much is spent,  
And needless hands, do stop the vent:  
That well might serve, a thousands turn,  
Tush at the prick, to kick and spourne.  
I should but hurt, my shins ye know,  
From Court to Country will I go:  
With much ill hap, and loss with all,  
Now may my bowl, to bias fall.  
In alleys smooth, where it may roune,  
I see in Court, shines not the Son:  
But on a few, that Fortune licks,  
And there a man, shall pass the Piks.  
Ear he may purchase that he craves,  
As one doth pool, an other shaves:  
And marquesotts, the beard full trim,  
Yet nothing runneth over the brim.  
Till purse be full, and then perhaps,  
When strings do break, there falls some strapps:  
Into your hands, watch that who list,  
A bird is better sure in fist.  
Then five in field, keep that thou haste,  
Where wealth and wit, and time doth waste:  
Look not to dwell, what draws thee there,  
But gain or glory, love, or fear.  
If gain to Court, doth make thee go,  
Thou art no friend, but flattering foe:  
That daily seeks, thyself to help,  
And couchest like the fawning whelp.  
Till Prince hath filled, thy purse with pence,  
And then sim subtle gets him thence:  
If thou in Court, for glory jest,  
As dizzard danceth in a net:  
The world shall thee, reward with praise,  
Was never Courtier in our days.  
So brave as he, then will they say,  
And all not worth, a truss of hay:  
At home thy love, as well is seen,  
And better, then in Court I ween.  
If like a subject, there thou live,  
And often good example give:  
To such as stands thereof in need,  
If fear draw thee, to Court in deed.  
The Prince can find such quaking sols,  
She knows whose heart is full of hoals:  
And seethe what luck's in hollow stocks,  
And treads upon such trembling blocks.  
From such is bounty's largesse barred,  
And then is bounty laced hard:  
From such the well head stopped is,  
A volume could I write of this.  
As large as any Chequer roll,  
But I the plain, and sellie soul:  
Must think and wish the best I may,  
And little of these matters say.  
Yet he that stands, and giveth ame,  
May judge what shot doth lose the game:  
What shooter beats the mark in vain,  
Who shooteth fair, who shooteth plain.  
At little holes, the day is seen,  
Some in this case, may over ween:  
And think they see in Millstones far.  
And take a Candle for a Star.  
Pass over such toys, and answer me,  
What cause hast thou in Court to be:  
If gain ne glory, fear nor love,  
To Courting doth thy fancy move.  
What draws thee thither headlong now,  
Give ear, and I shall show thee how:  
They sit and stare in Court some while,  
Yea on the other doth beguile.  
With fairest semblance that is sure,  
And every craft, is put in ure:  
To snatch or compass that they seek,  
Although it be not worth a Leek.  
The finest heads, have furthest fetch,  
The deepest sight, doth nearest watch:  
To trapp the upright meaning man,  
And each one doth the best he can.  
To help himself, by others harm.  
These Courtiers have so fine a charm:  
I grant there is honour won,  
And thither ought the subjects run.  
To show their duties by some mean,  
But why have some consumed clean:  
Their lives and lands in this desire,  
Ye know a man may love the fire.  
Full well, and leap not in the flame,  
Some think they win a goodly name:  
When they at home are Courtiers called,  
It is full gay, if he be stalled.  
An alms knight ere that all begun,  
His hap is hard, that hopes thereon:  
Yet sith I favour Courting well,  
Would God I had more lands to sell.  
To be at their commandment still,  
If that a man have their good will:  
He hath enough, what needeth more,  
Old lads may shift upon the score.  
And let their garments lie and sweat,  
Or with their Ostes work a feat:  
To set the horse in stable free.  
But now the wives so hungry be.  
And husbands look so near their gain,  
A man as soon on Salsbrie plain:  
Shall have a cheat, as by that trade,  
The day hath been, who could with blade.  
And Buckler square it in the streets,  
Had been a minion fine for sheets:  
But now the pence do make the place,  
And world is in an other ca●e.  
Well let the matter pass a while,  
And hear my tale, but do not smile:  
I happed in Court (as new Brome may,  
That sweepeth trimely for a day.)  
To be desired to play and sing,  
And was full glad in every thing:  
To please the Lords, and lordly sort,  
For that ye know with change of sport.  
These Courtiers' humours should be fed,  
And glad I was to bend my head:  
And be at beck when they did call,  
In hope that some good hap would fall.  
To me for that apt will of mine,  
Although my doings were not fine:  
A Tqabor with a Pipe full loud,  
To better noise is but a cloud.)  
Well as the Hackney is desired,  
And ridden till the jade betierd:  
I did continue long me thought,  
And still I spent the small I brought.  
And never got I one denere.  
Then thought I to begin the year:  
On New years day with some device,  
And though that many men be nice.  
And blush to make an honest shift,  
I sent each Lord a New years gift:  
Such treasure as I had that time,  
A laughing verse, a merry rhyme.  
Some think this is a craving guise,  
Tush hold your peace, world waxeth wise  
A dulled horse that will not stir,  
Must be remembered with a spur:  
And where there serves ne spur nor wand,  
A man must needs lead horse in hand.  
So I was forced on causes great,  
To see in fire where lay the heat:  
And warm their wits that cold did wax,  
But thrust the fire into the Flax:  
It will not burn if flax be wet,  
The fish these days ran shun the net.  
And hide them in the weeds full oft,  
Thou knowest that wax is tempered soft:  
Against the fire, so frozen minds,  
Must be assayed by many kinds.  
To bring them to a kindly thaw,  
Who thrusts a candle in the straw:  
Shall make a blaze, and raise a smoke,  
An honest mean there is by cloak.  
To stir the noble hearts from ●leepe,  
Whose coffers, custom makes to keep:  
Fast locked, that should be opened wide,  
To help the poor at every tide.  
They say that knew our elders well,  
That often times they heard them tell:  
That largesse linketh love full fast,  
And hardness loseth hearts at last.  
And honour leaves on liberal ways,  
And fame and honour near decay:  
Till hoard in hoary muck doth hold,  
The free and worthy use of gold.  
Oh sentence high of Father's wise,  
I swear by all the gods in Skies:  
These words deserve immortal fame,  
And nothing is so much to blame.  
As pintching hands that should be frank●,  
Admit the taker yields no thank:  
To him that gives, the gift doth bind▪  
Each virtuous man and honest mind.  
As captive in all good respects,  
To be a friend in full effects:  
As far as power may stretch unto,  
And they that have in wars to do▪  
Can say, what bounty brings about,  
Where that is not, the fire goeth out:  
And dies as coal to ashes falls,  
As Fouler takes the bird by calls.  
In strawing corn and chaff by heaps,  
So bounty as a sickle reaps:  
The hearts and all within the breast,  
No perfect love can be possessed.  
Where frankness makes no place before,  
Though force of earnest love is more:  
And looks not on the gift a whit,  
It man in need and danger sit.  
And find their friends both cold and dry,  
Then love will show a lowering e●e:  
And halt with you, as you with him,  
Although that some can cloak it trim.  
I tell you love is easily lost,  
If you on love bestow no cost:  
Thus as before I did rehearse,  
I sent each Lord a merry verse.  
A jolly libel long and large,  
And therein did good will discharge:  
But nothing did return to me,  
That I could either feel or se.  
Save from a brook, set pen before,  
Raune drops of gold, what will ye more:  
Thus in this withered age of ours,  
The smell is gone from goodly flowers.  
And golden world is turned to brass,  
Or hardness dwells where bounty was:  
There is no way to gain nor save,  
Then learn to keep the things we have.  
For he that wants shall hardly get,  
Except he fish with finer net:  
Then either rhyme or reason knitts,  
This world yields not to pleasant wits.  
To basest minds sometimes it bends,  
For all the haps blind Fortune sends:  
Doth light on those she favours mitche,  
Some man you see can near be rich.  
Though twenty year he toil and toss,  
For he is borne to live by loss:  
And some that never taketh pain,  
In worldly wealth doth still remain.  
Ne Court nor Country serves some man,  
To thrive in, do the best he can:  
Then find thou fault with ●●ne of both,  
With blind affection each thing goeth.  
Hap lies not in man's ronning still,  
Nor Fortune follows finest skill:  
Nor he doth not the wager win,  
That in the race hath foremost been.  
In judges mouth the sentence lies,  
So whether men doth fall or ryes:  
Look up to him that rules the Skies,  
The rich the poor, the fool the wise.  
And they shall find my words are true,  
Thus for a while, now Court adieu.  
FINIS.   

¶ Of a mighty great parsonage.  
WHen Phoebus took his Purple bed,  
to rest from days disease,  
Nay seemed to dip his golden head,  
under the Ocean seas:  
And fair Lu●i●● gan to shine,  
〈…〉 in starry Skies,  
Then crept the sweet and kindly sleep,  
a long my slombring eyes.  
And pricked me so to take a nap, that as in couch I lay,  
I dreamt that Natures littled 〈◊〉, about my bed 'gan play:  
And bade me rise, and view a wor●●●, that kind a new would frame,  
For that she thought both gods & me●, would help to forge the same  
You speak but like young girls qd I, she hath all ready done,  
Such works as now her hands would miss, if they were unbegon:  
With that dame Nature had, I spied with angry visage red,  
And in her fury sat her down, full right against my bed.  
Why fool quoth she is Nature not, so perfit of her skill,  
That she can give to flesh and fell, what shape and form she will:  
Thou seest each workman 〈◊〉 grows, each wit doth riper wax,  
And knowledge can amend at full, the faults where cunning lacks.  
The Goldsmith and the Caru●● 〈◊〉, and all that works with tool,  
Do mend their hands and da●●●● are, by Nature set to school:  
The Prince's palace made of old, looks like a sheep coat now,  
So if this time and Nature list, to show their cunning throw.  
We can set forth a Candle blaze, beyond the shining Son,  
And take the light from twinkling stars, whiles Moon her co●●es shal●●n:  
Can I not call for Beauty whou●, that I have lent at large,  
Have not the high immortal Gods, giu●n Beauty to my charge.  
And may not Nature break each mould, that once her hand hath made,  
And work this earthly dross again, unto a finer trade:  
Yes sure said she, and I therewith, did humble pardon crave,  
And at one instant by a sign, that mighty Nature gave.  
A thousand woorkmen all with tools, came thrusting in a rout,  
And each unto his labour falls, as turn doth come about:  
They blewe and puffed and smoke out sweat, as though in them did lie,  
To shape a mould, or show through cloud, that Venus dropped from sky  
Have done quod Kind it shallbe thus, too long ye trifle here,  
Then Cunning by her curious art, devised such colour clear:  
That did the ruddy Rose disdain, and pass the Lily white,  
If that a medley of those twain, were made to please delight.  
The woorkmen in this hasty broil, had raised up a mould,  
And each one in his office fine, had done the best he could:  
Now sat they still in silence sad, and rested for a space,  
With that dame Nature by her skill, set forth so trim a face.  
That Son and Moon and seven stars, did seem therein to shine,  
In which the pleasant gods had placed, a pair of gladsome eync:  
Yea every God one gift her gave, as Pallas for her part,  
Possessed her with a noble head, to judge or talk by art.  
And I●no made request to jove, that Venus' Queen of Love,  
Should never with false fond desires, her modest manners move:  
Dan Cupid broke a bow for joy, when this fair dame was made,  
In sign that she with Diane's Nymphs, should walk in grenewood shade  
The silly woorkmen seeing this, that servants were to Kind,  
Trust up their tools and stole away, yet left the mould behind:  
Which as I guess of divers stones, was wrought by deep device,  
For therein jazing might you see, and pearls of passing price.  
The Rubbie rich, and pretty sparks, of Diamonds clear & bright,  
The Emerald green, and Margaret's fair, & Turks blew to sight  
Whose virtues passeth far my pen, or yet my tongue to tell,  
Demand ye that of skilful men, that knows their Natures well  
Lo foolish man, lo here thou dolt, quoth Kind to me aloud,  
How sayest thou is not this new work, more fair than star in cloud  
Doth not this work make all them blusse, that I have wrought before,  
Yea sure, ●or Nature is in mind, to make the like no more.  
By this time was the Lark a fit, loud chirping in the air,  
And each one to their daily toils, 'gan busily repair:  
So rose I up and rolled in thought, where this fair wight doth dwell,  
And at the length I found in deed. I knew the worthy well.  
FINIS.   

¶ Of Beauty and Bounty.  
WHen Beauty Venus' daughter dear,  
from jove descended down,  
To reign on earth an Empress here,  
with sceptre and with Crown:  
To Pleasure's palace she repaired,  
where with a Princely port,  
She held an open household long, in feasts and royal sport.  
The fame whereof rang through the world, so shrill in every ear,  
That well was him, & glad was she, that might come banquet there:  
The lists were made, the scaffold decked, each thing in good array,  
The Lords full brave, the Ladies fine, the Courtiers trim and gay.  
And as these states in triumph were, all placed in their degrees,  
And to behold the shiverd staves, the people swarmed like Bees:  
In stepped a goodly armed knight, on courser white as Snow,  
And twice he passed the Tilt about, as soft as horse could go.  
And when he came where Beauty sat, he paused with howed head,  
And loud in open audience then, all hail fair Queen he said:  
I came quoth he from Manhood's court, the worthiest prince alive,  
Who keeps his kingdom all by sword, and doth for honour strive.  
By battle and by breaking lance, who sent me hither plain,  
To challenge for my mistress sake, the stoutest in thy train:  
No sooner he his message said, but in there rushed a band,  
Whose clattering harness caused their steeds upon no ground to stand.  
The dust flew up, the press did shrink, the foaming horses naied,  
The trumpets blue, the lance in rest, the spurs on sides they laid:  
Fie coward knight quoth Courage then, can all you fight with one,  
So they retired, and to the shock, came youth all armed alone.  
These champions met as earth should shake, so fierce they seemed to be  
As man became a Lion wood, and horse in air should fly:  
At each encounter crasht their slaves, and fell amid the throng,  
The buffets were so freely dealt, the blood through Beaver sprung.  
The Queen cried hola, cease quoth she, you turn your sport to spi●e▪  
Some cause your colour doth increase, & Mars the pastime quite:  
A cause quod Youth (most worthy dame) and my liege Lady dear,  
Came ever yet before a Prince, so stout a challenge here.  
Who dare with Venus' daughter boast, dame Beauty justly cold,  
That came from Skies, and sat next jove, in sacred honour stalled:  
Though Beauty sprang from earthly cause, & had but shape of kind,  
And did no heavenly gifts possess, nor virtues lodge in mind.  
Yet Boldness churlish challenge brave, too saucy is you know,  
And Beauty hath too many friends, to see her handled so:  
When Boldness hard this taunting tale, & marked the people's cheer,  
He thrusted through the thickest throng, and drew the scaffold near  
And all on knees he craved to speak, and answer to this case,  
On whom the Queen for honour's sake, did show a gracious face:  
Speak on quoth she, so stepped he up, and thus to her he said,  
O puissant prince, thinks Youth of brags, the boldness stands afraid  
I am a branch of Manhood's blood, that stout conceit begat,  
The hope and help of high attempts, and slay of every state.  
That hither came for that no Court, can be where I am not,  
No Tornay seen, no triumph made, no fame nor glory got:  
And wot you well, a Princess too, in Court I serve this hour,  
That is as great in some respects, as she is small in power.  
If stately honour can be guessed, by goodly graces trim,  
Or perfect beauty be possessed, where Bounty swimes at brim:  
Or wisdom under seemly shades, may shine or yet be seen,  
My mistress is a worthy dame, though Beauty be a Queen▪  
Report hath blown to Manhood's ears, the troth of that I tell,  
Then Boldness needs not blush to boast, the Bounty bears the bell  
And sith you licence me to speak, I dare devoid of blame,  
Light such a torch unto your eyes, shall show this Lady's name:  
When Sky is clear, and Summer set, to show the weather fair,  
I mean when calmy blows the wind, and pleasant is the air.  
A Marie gold then may you flood, full near an Eglantine,  
Whose flowers within the North new buds, & yet in court doth shine:  
Her countenance carries such a state, full right amid her face,  
As though therein the Muses nine, had made their mansion place.  
A rattling sound unto your ears, of her now here I show,  
Now rack & wrest my meaning out, and you my mind shall know:  
This said each one on others looked, and he on horseback leapt,  
And some that dwelled in their concept, full close in corners crept.  
The glorious sort that gaped for fame, where no deserts could be,  
Did draw a back and priest a pace, with plain reproach to flee:  
The haughty minds held down their heads, high looks 'gan blush for fere,  
As Youth beheld this sudden change, he thought no tarrying there.  
The Gods regarding from the stars, what strife by Beauty rose,  
Bad Venus call her daughter home, and homewards so she goes:  
Then saw I Boldness turn again, who gave for Bounties wear,  
A garland of the goodliest flowers, that ever earth did bear.  
And foarst her for to take the same, in sign of glory won,  
As Beauty mounted to the Gods, and all the triumph done:  
The people seeing Beauty gone, with one assent did cry,  
That Bounty pleased more their minds, than Beauty did the eye.  
FINIS.   

¶ Of one that by dissembling, fed his desire.  
IF love be lust, the more my lack,  
and less I think your luck,  
Yet love I not for lewd delight,  
nor gain of worldly muck:  
But for a finer freak, be you the judge thereof,  
When craft to cloak some secret smart,  
begins to scorn and scoff.  
Witte works with words and wiles, a way to win his will,  
And where the flight shows gladsome smiles, the world conceius n●ne ill  
Mirth blears the people's eyes, and makes the matter light,  
And sadness breeds suspect to soon, in heads of deep foresight.  
And world mislikes no toys, that merry laughter brings,  
God knows what care the bird doth feel, in cage that sweetly sings  
Some weep in wedding weeds, and laugh in mourning gounes,  
And sure I smile myself sometime, when froward fortune frowns.  
Where is most cause of care, most sign of joy I show,  
For pleasure is redoubled oft, where men dissemble woe:  
Who bluntly bites a bait, and swallows up a hook,  
Is caught like Gogon in a net, or conquered by a look.  
But such as warily feeds, and pikes out bones full clean,  
Shall eat their fill, & learn to know, what dainty morsels mean  
Thus resting at your will, I feed my hidden thought,  
With fancies merry sweet conceits, a food full dearly bought.  
FINIS.   

¶ Of steadfastness and constancy.  

WHen Constance makes, her boed in bloody breast,  
And builds her bower, with bows of bloming troth:  
There friendly faith, is sure a welcome jest,  
And jous doth dwell, and Lady Venus both.  
The Gods are glad, to view such troth below,  
The heavens hopp. to see such Constance flow.   

But where fond lust, doth lead firm love awry,  
And fickle toys, in feeble fancy falls:  
And foul delight, doth feed the wantoness eye,  
And steadfast hearts, are toast like Tennis balls.  
There Pluto reigns, with all his hounds of hell,  
In irksome shame, and smothering smoke to dwell.   

Oh what a praise, hath Constance shining face,  
What greater blot, may be then breach of love:  
The constant mind, hath sudden change in chase,  
But they that will, of every water prove.  
Shall drink sour whey, in steed of syrup sweet,  
For licrus lusts, a liquor fit and meet.   

Ten thousand false, I find where one is true,  
With faith for sworn, lo every face appears:  
These faithless fools, that change for every new,  
Do look full smooth, yet prove but scratting Brears,  
Since foul deceits, hath filled the world with vice.  
We ought to give, dame Constance all the price.   

O blazing star, that burns like Eathna flame,  
O fickle dames, go hide your heads in holes:  
Approach not near, where I do Constance name,  
Your dwellings are, among the dampened soles.  
Go girning girls, and giglotts where ye lust,  
Dame Constance sits, in glory with the just.   
FINIS.   

¶ Of one that f●unde falsehood in fellowship.  
IF faith take foil, and plain good will be lost,  
Let feigned love, seek Larks when Sky doth fall:  
If trial great, be made a double post,  
No practice serves, to shoffull Cards with all.  
If waiting long, can win but cold reward,  
Bid wily wits, go warm his hands at fire:  
If troth want, hap, for toil and great regade,  
There is no hope, that workman shall have hire.  
If letters large, but little liking win,  
Your babbling tongues, in fine small boast shall make:  
If service paste, a suit must new begin,  
New hangers on, in haste their leave may take.  
Since surety shrinks, and friendship smells of guile,  
Adieu bad world, thy favour lasts no while.  
FINIS.   

Written to a virtuous gentlewoman, whose name is in the verses.  
Dame all my deeds by true deserts.  
that showeth every fruit,  
And poise my words, and prove my works,  
and so esteem my suit:  
My troth untried bids me retire, and brings me in despair,  
Pass on saith hope, good hap may come, the weather may be fair.  
Press not to fast saith Danger then, for fear thy ●oote do slide,  
Of hasty speed great harms do rise, as often hath been tried:  
Repentance comes care men beware, for want of perfit skill,  
Therefore let reason rule the rain, and wisdom master will.  
Thus in mine head a battle is, between my hope and dre●d,  
Hope pricks me forth, fear driu's me back, my fancy thus I feed:  
Though hope be far above my hap, good luck may me advance,  
And this great war may be a peace, as all things have their chance.  
The tossed ship may haven it, that anchor hold hath none,  
As rainy drops by length of time, may pierce the Marble stone:  
What fort or hold is half so strong, that ever man could make,  
But powders force and Cannon blast, can make it down to shake.  
The pelletts all that I must bring, unfeigned faith must be,  
The ladder for to scale the walls, is troth when tried is he:  
This answer may the captain make, to whom my siege I lay,  
Whose fort is won by such a salt, or by none other way.  
With Ensign spread, and battery set, I hope to make a breach,  
And trust to win by suit at length, that now is past my reach.  
FINIS.   

A sarewell to a foundling.  

THe heat is past, that did me fret,  
The fire is out, that Nature wrought:  
The plants of love, which youth did set,  
Are dry and dead, within my thought.  
The Frost hath killed, the kindly sap,  
Which kept the heart, in liuly state:  
The sudden storms, and thunder clap,  
Hath turned love, to mortal hate.   

The mist is gone, that bleared mine eyes,  
The louning clouds, I see appear:  
Although the blind, eats many flies,  
I would she knew, my sight is clear.  
Her sweet disceiving flattering face,  
Did make me think, the Crow was white:  
I muse how she, had such a grace,  
To seem a Hawk, and he a Kite.   
Finis.   

¶ Written to the good Lord Maior (of London now in office) called Sir Nicholas Woodroffe Knight.  
THe time shows all, as fire works wax,  
in time great things are done,  
Time weau's the web, and wrought the flax,  
that pain through time hath spun:  
Time must be sought, time must be used,  
time must be tempered well,  
Else out of time, in any sort,  
the tale is that we tell.  
So time moves pen, & sturrs the muse, (that time had lulled a sleep,)  
To write of time and matter such, as may good credit keep:  
Then my good Lord, to former time, I do refer my verse,  
And ancient years, with elders days, that can great things rehearse.  
Time brought the sword (that each one fears) to rule the rural sort,  
Time wan this City high renown, and gatt it good report:  
Time made the chosen Mayor a knight, and time did greater things,  
For time made subjects love the law, and honour rightful Kings.  
Thus time was nours, and mother both, to chosen children here,  
And time out worn, takes life of troth, so showe●●●ke candle clear.  
Which time my verse reuiu's again, and bringeth fresh to mind,  
The time that long is passed before, and thousands left behind:  
For those that in this present time, list look on Elders days,  
Who in their time did some good deeds, and reaped people's praise.  
As guerdon for the time well spent, and virtues right reward,  
That given is to graffs of grace, that God doth much regard:  
As time hath taught, good men to rule, and made the bad obey,  
So time hath rooted up all weeds, that made good flowers decay.  
This City claims by tract of time, a stately Civil trade,  
And is a Lamp, or shining Sun, to Country's silly shade:  
For Civil manners here began, and Order root did take,  
When savage swains in rubbish soils, did civil life forsake.  
Here wit throw wisdom weldeth wealth, & world good time attends,  
And God through traffics toil & pain, a world of treasure sends:  
Here states repair, and laws are tried, and noble customs shine,  
Here dwells the Sages of the world, and all the Muses nine.  
The Court itself, & Inns of court (where wit & knowledge flows,)  
Haunts here as term and time commands, and people comes & goes:  
Here are Embastours feasted still, and foreign kings have been,  
Here are the wheels of public state, that brings the pageant in.  
And here is now the Maiden town, that keeps herself so clean,  
That none can touch, nor stain in troth, by any cause or mean.  
Then here ought be no member left, that may infect the rest,  
Whip faultors hence, and plague the worst, and make but of the best:  
Let stubborn rout be taught to work, bid paltrars pack away,  
Give Idle folk no lodging here, cause wantoness leave their play.  
Search out the haunts of noughty men, & break the nest of thieves,  
Yea pluck their livery oer their ears, and badges from their sleeves:  
That breeds misrule, and rudeness shows, so shall the Civil seat,  
(As Lantern to all Britain land) remain in honour great.  
Demand how thredebare figboys live, & swearing dampened sprites,  
Reform those blading desperate dicks, that roist about the streets:  
Disperse that wicked shameless swarm, that cares not for reproach,  
Purge every house from graceless geastes, that sets all vice abroach.  
Rebuke those common alehouse knights, that spends away their thrift,  
And ask on Bench where justice sits, how rogues & beggars shift:  
Teach railing tongues to tune their speech, and talk of that is fit,  
Hold in the rash and harebrain heads, by Law and Orders bit.  
Know whence these saucy libels come, the feign discord would make,  
And work by art and craft to pluke, the sting from subtle Snake:  
This City is no harbouring place, for vessels fraught with vice,  
Here is the soil and seat of kings, and place of precious price.  
Here worthies makes their mantions still, & buildeth stately towers  
Here sits the Nobles of the realm, in golden hasles and bowers:  
O London look to thy renown, thy fame hath stretched far,  
Thou art a stay in time of peace, a help● in cause of war.  
A fear to foes, a joy to friends, a jewel in our days,  
That well may match with any Town, or sea●e of greatest praise:  
Here people are so meek and mild, that foreign nations throw,  
In Civil sort, with wealth and ease, may live in quiet now.  
What City can make ●oste and say, (great God ●e blest therefore)  
It doth so many strangers feed, and so maintain the store:  
For here the more the number is, the less of want we find,  
Of corn and cates, ●utche store is here, it answers each man's mind.  
Way wed the hearth of other realms, and you shall see in deed,  
The plenty of this 〈◊〉 I'll, supply our neighbour's need:  
In world who travails any where, and then repaireth here,  
Shall fi●●e each ●hing good cheap at home, that is abroad full dear.  
And none but London note it well, doth keep one stint and rate,  
O● vi●●●iles in the market place, look throughout every state:  
Yea, here when God for wicked life, his bounty will withdraw,  
T●e Maior and brethren shonneth dearth, by rule and noble law.  
Here is provision for the poor, and who that marks the ●ame;  
Shall see that worthy Sages grave, deserves a noble name:  
My boldness now (O my good lord,) excuse through my good will,  
That ever in my Country's praise, is priest and ready s●ill.  
And where the noughty lives of some, are touched by m● peinie,  
It is for London's honour spoke, that can reform futche men:  
Which in this stately shepherds fold, like rotten sheep do live,  
And who for want of looking too, do 〈◊〉 example give.  
God grant whiles worthy Woodroffe rules, (& every other year,  
There comes no Moths among good men, nor Caterpillars here:  
Thus wishing well, in London's laud, my pen I must excuse,  
To Printer sent these verses plain, of this lazy mornyngs muse.  
FINIS.