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PROM THE INCOME OF THE 
 
 FISKE ENDOWMENT FUND 
 
 THE BEQUEST OF 
 
 lyibrarian of the University 1868-1883 
 1905 
 
 A.^qgyai ij-iwiU i 
 
 3184 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 2384.T3A6 1880 
 
 Alba.The month's minde of a melancholy I 
 
 3 1924 013 126 309 
 

Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013126309 
 
ALBA. 
 
 THE MONTH'S MINDE 
 
 OF 
 
 A MELANCHOLY LOVER. 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT TOFTE, GENTLEMAN. 
 
 (1598.) 
 
 EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART, LL.D., F.S.A., 
 
 St. George's, Blackburn, Lancashire. 
 
 Sixty-two Copies only. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE SUBSCRIBERS. 
 1880. 
 
^,^ot«\Sl.l 
 
 Printed isv Charles £. Simms 
 Manchester. 
 
THE FIFTY SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 ( AlphabeHcally arranged.) 
 
 1. H. F. Bailey, Esq., London. 
 
 2. The Bodleian Library, Oxford. 
 
 3. The Public Library, Boston, U.S.A. 
 
 4. Henry Bradshaw, Esq., M.A., University Library, Cambridge. 
 
 5. The British Museum, London, 
 
 o. H. T. Hamilton-Bruce, Esq., Edinburgh. 
 
 7. Rev. W. E. Buckley, M.A., Middleton Cheney, Banbury. 
 
 8. The Most Honourable the Marquis of Bute, London. 
 
 9. J. H. Chamberlain, Esq., Birmingham. 
 
 10. Andrew Chatto, Esq., London. 
 
 11. Thomas Chorlton, Esq., Manchester. 
 
 12. The Lord Coleridge, London. 
 
 13. F. W. Cosens, Esq., F.S.A., London. 
 
 14. James Crossley, Esq., F.S.A., Manchester. 
 
 15. The Right Honourable the Earl of Derby, Knowsley. 
 
 16. His Grace the Duke of Devonshire. 
 
 17. Rev. J. W. Ebsworth, M.A., Molash Vicarage. 
 
 18. G. H. Elt, Esq., London. 
 
 19. H. H. FuRNESS, Esq., Philadelphia, U.S.A. 
 
 20. H. H. GiBBS, Esq., London. 
 
 21. Edmund W. Gosse, Esq., London. 
 
 22. Rev. Dr. Grosart (Editor). 
 
 23. Benjamin Haynes, Esq., Clevedon. 
 
 24. Dr. INGLEBY, Valentines, Ilford. 
 
 25. Richard Johnson, Esq., Chislehurst. 
 
 26. John Kershaw, Esq., London. 
 
 27. F. De Mussenden Leathes, Esq., London. 
 
 28. J. M. Mackenzie, Esq., Edinburgh. 
 
 29. T. A. Middleton, Esq., London. 
 
 30. Professor Morley, London, 
 
 31. John Morison, Esq., Glasgow. 
 
 32. Samuel Neil, Esq., Edinburgh. 
 
 33. Rev. W. L. Nichols, M.A., Woodlands by Bridgewater. 
 
 34. Dr. Brinsley Nicholson, London. 
 
 35. Cornelius Paine, Esq., Brighton. 
 
 36. F. T. Palgrave, Esq., LL.D., London. 
 
 37. Peabody Institute, Baltimore, M'd., U. S. A. 
 
 38. The Most Hon. the Marquis of Ripon, Studley Royal. 
 
 39. George Saintsbury, Esq., London. 
 
 40. Rev. Dr. Salisbury, Thundersley Rectory, Rayleigh. 
 
 41. Rev. Dr. R, S. Scott, Glasgow. 
 
 42. A. G. Snelgrove, Esq., London. 
 
 43. A. C. Swinburne, Esq., London. 
 
 44. J. M. Thomson, Esq., Edinburgh. 
 
 45. Frederick Vinton, Esq., Princeton, New Jersey, U.S.A. 
 
 46. Charles Walton, Esq., London. 
 
 47. R. S. Watson, Esq., Newcastle-on-Tyne. 
 
 48. John Weston, Northwich. 
 
 49. G. H. White, Esq., Glenthorne, Torquay. 
 
 50. William Wilson, Esq., Berwick-on-Tweed. 
 
 This is to certify that the impression of " Alba. The Month's 
 
 Minde of A Melamholy Lover I' by Robert Tofie, Gentleman, has 
 been rigidly limited to Sixty-two Copies — fifty distributed as above, 
 and twelve Editor's copies. This is No.__f^__ . Proof-sheets and 
 waste pages have been destroyed. yy^ 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THe Bibliographers — earlier and later — have with less 
 or more completeness and less or more accuracy, re- 
 corded the title-pages of the various books of 'Robert Tofte 
 Gentleman '; but no one has so much as tried apparently to 
 recover aught about himself. Even JOSEPH HuNTER's vast 
 (literary) Waste-paper Basket, yclept ' Chorus Vatum,' yields 
 not a single syllable on him — indeed, strange to say, does 
 not even register his name in any one of its numerous lists 
 of names. An additional vexation in pursuing my researches 
 has been the (relatively) abundant notices in all kinds of topo- 
 graphical and genealogical authorities of unremarkable Tufts 
 and Tofts, and especially of the notorious impostor, the 
 ' Rabbit-Breeder ' Mary Tofts. Over and over I would hap 
 on the name and expect light ; but lo ! it was invariably 
 some unsought-for Tuft or Toft or the inevitable Mary 
 Tofts ! 
 
 By my usual good fortune, I have got at the personality 
 of our Worthy ; but alas ! little more. As is so frequently 
 the case, a Parish-Register of his death, is the first guiding 
 item, as thus : — 
 
 Buried at S' Andrew's Holbom 
 
 i6iJ Jan. 24 Robert Tofte, Gent, out ofWidow 
 
 Goodal's house near Barnard's Inn. 
 
 This entry — ^which was furnished me by my always-helpful 
 friend Colonel Chester of London — suggested search for 
 his Will; and to my great joy it was almost immediately 
 discovered for me by the same good friend. I have the 
 satisfaction to print it for the first time, and literatim, as 
 follows (slight punctuation only added) : 
 
 In the name of God amen Anno dominj one thowsand six hundred and 
 Eighteene and of March the thirtieth. As man ys mortall, so is his fleshe cor- 
 rupt, and as Deathe is most sure soe is the hower thereof most vncertayne. 
 
 E 
 
vi Introduction. 
 
 Nothing is here in this worlde but what is transitorie ; onlie the Soule yf yt doth 
 well enioyeth Immortalitie. To prevent tlierfore the sommons of sodayne 
 Deathe, mans state beyng so tickle, his life so fickle and his End so doubtful], I 
 nowe purpose by gods grace to dispose of that litle wealthe which god hath 
 blest me withall, before any suche chaunce should happen, that making an end 
 with this worlde I may live in that other to come which hathe no end for ever : 
 Least deferring it from daye to daye I be ourtaken of the suddayne with deadlie 
 sicknes and then allthoughe I be willing yet cannot I doe what fayne I desire 
 and would. And therfore I ordayne and make this my last will and Testament 
 as foloweth Revoking and Disalowing all other Willes whatsoever : 65rst I Robert 
 Toft of London gent beyng well in bodie and sound in mynde (thanckes vnto 
 the highest for the same) bequeath my soule vnto my Savj'oure Jesus Xriste and 
 my bodie to be buried where I shall appoynte, affirming my ffaithe and beleife 
 to be suche as is the auncient Catholicke and Apostolicke faith and Creede and 
 suche as the holie fathers, Patriarkes Prophettes Apostles and Martirs did pro- 
 fefse, I knowing and acknowledging ray selfe to be a most vile and wretched 
 Synner and that thoroughe synne I haue deserved euerlasting deathe. But by 
 the grace and mercy from aboue hope to enioye etearnall life, not beleving nor 
 once ymmagining to be saved by any Deede or meritt of myne owne (for alas 
 good is none nor godlilie can any one doe of hym selfe but onlie by the pafsion 
 and precious bloud of oure only Savyoure Jesus Xriste Whoe cam into the 
 worlde to save Repentant Synners, of which nomber I acknowledge my selfe to 
 be one : And therfore vndoubtedlie perswade my selfe I shalbe saved by his 
 Deathe and that I was borne and predestinated (as beyng his chosen childe) 
 vnto Salvation, and the contrary to this neither the fleshe the worlde nor the 
 Divell hym selfe shalbe able to perswade me, suche and so stronge is my sound 
 faithe in this poynte not vnlyke an vnpregnable rocke which is never to be 
 removed come what tempest storme surge waves or Seas whatsoeuer : As for 
 that smale estate which god hath bestowed vppon me, as yt came from my 
 freindes so will I bestowe yt where I haue found most truest freindshipp. I 
 houlding yt a matter of conscience not to bequeathe yt vnto my neerest kyndred 
 and some other of myne acquayntannce rather then vppon strangers or on some 
 of my kynnesfolkes whose vndeserved vnkyndenes and ingratitude towardes me 
 hath estrannged my harte from them : fSrst therfore I giue and bequeathe vnto 
 my young Cosin Thomas Vrrie the sonne of Thomas Vrrie of Thorlie Courte in 
 the Isle of Wighte gentleman ffyve hundred markes of lawfull enghsh money, 
 which my Executor hereafter named shall paye vnto hym beyng of the age of 
 Twentie one yeres : But yf yt fortune that my Cosin M'ris Jane Vrrie the foresaid 
 Childes mother shall survive her husband Then my will is that she her selfe shall 
 haue the benefitt therof vntill her childe shall come to full yeres, and then to repaye 
 backe agayne the sayed somme of fyve hundred markes vnto hym : And yf the 
 foresayed childe should happen to dye before that tyme (which god forbid) Then 
 my Will is that theise fyve hundred markes shall goe and be vnto my foresayed 
 Cosin his Mother for euer. Item I giue and bequeathe vnto my foresayed young 
 Cosin Thom's Vrrie the yonnger, one ffeatherbed one Bolster one Downe pillowe 
 and a Tapistrie Coverlet : All w'"' are nowe in the house and Custodie of Robert 
 
Introduction. vii 
 
 Lambonie ffarmer of Trinitie Barton by Winton. Item I giue vnto my foresayed 
 young Cosin Thomas Vrrie one Bason and Ewer of silver and guilte with my 
 Coate or Amies thervppon beyng abowte the valewe of twentie poundes : And 
 yf my Cosin Jane liis mother survive hym : Then she to dispose thereof as she 
 shall please. Hem I giue and bequeathe vnto my good Aunte M". Elizabeth 
 Daye widowe twentie poundes : And to her Daughter my foresayed Cosin Jane 
 Vrrie, a casting bottle of silver and guilte and a fyne pillow beere wroughte ouer 
 with fyne blacke silke and twentie poundes in money. Item I giue and bequeathe 
 vnto my Cosin Mary Daye the nowe widowe of Beniamyn Daye Deceased 
 Twentie poundes : And to my twoe Cosins her Children twentie shillings a 
 peece And to my Cosin M'^ Margaret Burrishe her sister a Ryng of twentie 
 shillings, praying her to accept of yt in good parte and not to take exceptions 
 herein, considering the raeane estate of her Sister Marye in Respecte of her 
 owne : Item I giue vnto my Cosin Margaret Daye wife vnto my Cosin George 
 Daye of West drayton in the Countie of Middlesex gent a little sweetebagg 
 of Crymson Taffata and an umbrello of perfumed leather with a gould fryndge 
 abowte yt which I broughte out of Italic : Item I giue vnto my litle Cosin 
 John Daye the sonne of my foresayed Cosin George Daye of West drayton 
 twoe hundred poundes in money, one (featherbed one Bolster a Downe pil- 
 lowe a blanket and a duble Coverlett of Arras with the Bedstead Curtaines 
 and vallances belonging to the same : All viliich stuffe is in my Chauraber 
 at M'* Goodhall's house in Holborne. Item I giue vnto Robert Lambome 
 ffarmer of Trinitie Barton ffarme by Winton Twentie poundes in money And to 
 Tristam Locke Taylor nowe Dwelling at S' Crofses by Winton Twentie Nobles. 
 Item I giue vnto Mary Vrrye the daughter of William Vrry of Hill place by 
 Thorlie in the Isle of Wight tenne poundes of money : And to Stephen fframp- 
 ton of Whippingham in the same Hand yeoman, the somme of fyve poundes. 
 Item I giue and bequeathe vnto Dorothie Popley the daughter of Captaine 
 Oliver Popley Deceased, the somme of one hundred poundes of lawfull Englishe 
 money to be payed to her either at the Daye of her marriage or when she shalbe 
 twentie one yeres old : Provided that the saied hundred poundes be put out to 
 maynetayne her till she be marryed and that she will fuUie cast not her selfe 
 awaye in marriage but have the good Will of my Executor hereafter named abowte 
 her choice. Item I giue and bequeathe vnto the aforesayed Dorothie Popley all 
 suche of my plate as shall haue theise twoe Letters D : and P : vppon the same 
 and halfe of all my Lynnen whatsoeuer : And the other halfe of my Lynnen, 
 I giue and bequeathe vnto my goddaughter Rebecca Hancock and fyve poundes 
 in money. And so likewise I giue unto Hester Hancock her Sister fyve poundes 
 more, I say ffy ve poundes. Item I giue unto the righte worshippfuU S'. Anthony 
 Benn my kynnesman and nowe Recorder of London, a gould Ryng with a turkey 
 stone therein, Desyring hym to weare yt for my sake. And to my Cosin Anna- 
 bella Benn his Daughter a litle ffrenche Chayue or Bracelett of gould. Item I 
 giue and bequeathe vnto the righte vertuous the Ladie Jane Berm, To myne old 
 cosin M'=. Elizabeth Benn widowe, To my Cosin Mary Benn and to her twoe 
 sisters all fyve in number, to eache of them a gould Ryng enamiled of an Anngell 
 price, with this posie engraven : Donum Movientis Amicj. Item I will and 
 
viii Introduction. 
 
 bequeathe ffyve poundes to the poore of S' Andrewes parishe in Holbourne 
 whereof I will that three poundes of the same be bestowed on the poore of 
 Whites Alley in the same parishe and of the sayed three poundes goodman 
 Maddox or his wife to have thirteene shillinges fower pence yf either of them be 
 then lyving, and all suche firewood as I shall then leave, to be bestowed 
 aniongest them. Item I give to euery servaunt then beeing in the house where 
 I shall happen to die fyve shillings a peece and fortie shillinges to that parishe 
 wherein I shall foxtune to be buryed. Lastlie I giue and bequeathe vnto my 
 loving Cosin George Daye the elder of West[d]raiton in Midd. gent whome I 
 make and appoynte my sole Executor of this my last will and Testament All 
 my goodes Landes Chattells Leases money plate and all what soeuer els is 
 myne (except onlie what I haue before giuen and is by me allreadie giuen in this 
 my last will and Deede) And I appoynte my Cosin M'. Thomas Vrrie of Thorlie 
 the elder myne Overseer, vnto whom for his paynes I bequeathe the Somme of 
 ffyve poundes. As for my debtes, I thancke god they are none, yet are there 
 some poore men that owe me money, but because of theire disabilitie and want 
 I request myne Executor not to demaund any thing of them in my name but 
 only of suche men as are very sufficient to paye and soe honest as I doubte not 
 but that they wilbe willing to repaye my money kyndelie vnto hym with whose 
 bondes (by gods grace) hereafter I will acquaynt my foresayed Executor, I 
 hartelie Desyring and requyring hym to paye all the foresayed Legaceys men- 
 tioned by me before in this my last will within sixe Monethes at the farthest 
 after my deathe. As for the Chardges of my ffimeralls which I wishe to be suche 
 as shalbe fitting for me : I referre vnto my Executor's discretion to whome I shall 
 leave sufficient to defraye the same euery waye. And withall (I hope) a kynde 
 testimonye of my love and good will towardes hym, I leaving divers thinges un- 
 mentioned in this my last will vnto hym amounting vnto a good somme of 
 money. And thus once more praying and desyring hym to see satisfied and 
 performed theise forsayed Legaceys by me bequethed after my deathe and 
 beseeching god to forgive me as I forgiue eueiy one in this world, I committ my- 
 selfe whoUie to his Divine protection and power : And so I end this my last will 
 and Testament the daye and yere aboue written, I having set my hand and seale 
 thereunto in the presence of theise two wituefses whose names are vnderwritten. 
 Robert Tofle. Sealed and subscribed in the presence of Jo Haacocke. Thomas 
 Downes. 
 
 Probatum fuit testamentum suprascriptum apud London coram venerabili viro 
 D'no Will'mo Bird milite legum doctore Curie Prerogatiue Cantuarienfs' Ma- 
 gistro Custode sine Commifsario legitime constitute Tertio die menfs Januarij 
 Anno Domini iuxta cursum et computac'o'em Ecclie Anglicane Millesimo sex- 
 centisimo Decimo Nono Juramento Georgij Daye Executoris in eodem Testa- 
 mento nominat. Cui comifsa fuit Administrac'o' bonoram Jur et Creditorum 
 dicti defuncti de bene et fideliter administrand &c ad sancta Dei Evangelia Jur. 
 
 There can be no doubt of the identity of our Robert Tofte 
 with the Robert Tofte of the burial register entry, and of the 
 
Introduction. ix 
 
 Will. With reference to the former, it so happens that he 
 dates his Blazon of Jealoufie, (1615) "From my lodging in 
 Holborne," while the latter includes among its names the 
 Day family as relatives, thus explaining how, among the 
 commendatory poems before 'Alba,' there is one signed 
 ' Richard Day,' who was probably a son of William Day, 
 Bishop of Winchester ; and so of the Days in the Will, ut 
 infra. The incidental mention of one little bequest as 
 brought from Italy likewise tallies with his coming and 
 going thither, and the dating of his several poems from the 
 chief cities of Italy, e.g., Roma, Venice, Florence (Fiorenza), 
 Pisa, Mantoa (Mantua), Padoa, (Padua), Napoli, Sienna, 
 Pesaro. 
 
 Of the names that occur in the Will, I have only been able 
 to ascertain these slight data — Thomas Urrey (sometimes 
 Urry or Urrie) of Gatcombe, Isle of Wight (son of David 
 Urrey of Thorley, Isle of Wight) married as his second wife 
 Jane, daughter of Thomas Day of Drayton, in the County 
 of Sussex * — according to the pedigree in Berry's Hants, not 
 West Drayton, Middlesex, as in the Will — nephew of 
 Bishop Day (there were two brothers, George Day, Bishop 
 of Chichester, who died in 1556, and the already-noted 
 William Day, Bishop of Winchester, who died in 1596). It 
 would thus appear that our Poet's ' aunt ' Elizabeth Day was 
 sister of Thomas Day l(ut supra). She occurs in the Bishop 
 of Winchester's Will.f 
 
 * Tha Vicar cf Thorley (Rev. Abraham Peat, M.A.,) informs me that in his 
 Register is the following entry — "Mr. Thomas Urry Gent: died 25° Dec^ 
 1631," and that there is a monumental brass to his memory in the Mortuary 
 Chapel of Thorley. 
 
 + The Will of Bishop William Daye is at Somerset House (72 Drake). It is 
 dated nth September 1596, confirmed 15th September 1596, proved 2nd 
 October 1596, Besides legacies and provision for his wife (no name), and his 
 son William, and daughters Elizabeth, Ridley, Suzanna, Rachell, he leaves to 
 his son Richard (Tofte's commendator and friend) "all his books, save such 
 English books as his son William shall choose," and the residue of his estate 
 between his sons "William and Richard." 
 
X Introduction. 
 
 Sir Anthony Benn, Recorder of Kingston on Thames 
 and subsequently Recorder of London, was a somewhat not- 
 able personage in his day. He died 29th September 16 18, in 
 his fiftieth year, and was buried on the 30th at Kingston. A 
 monument was there erected by his widow 'Lady Jane' but 
 who she was does not appear. Their daughter Ammabell was 
 baptized at Kingston 3rd September 1607. She became the 
 wife of Francis (Fane) Earl of Westmoreland. " My old 
 cousin Mrs. Elizabeth Benn widow" was no doubt the "Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Benne widow" who was buried at Kingston 2° 
 August 162 1. The Will of Sir Anthony Benn gives no clue 
 to his connection with Tofte.* 
 
 It is but a dim glimpse these slender new facts afford us. 
 May they lead to more from fellow-inquirers ! 
 
 Equally shadowy is our information on what must have 
 been — if his poems are to be credited — a main factor in 
 the life of 'Robert Tofte Gentleman,' to wit, his fruitless 
 love and ' wooing ' of that fair lady to whom in his surrep- 
 titiously published first volume he gave the name of ' Laura,' 
 and in his self-published one in the same strain, 'Alba,' and 
 in both furnished her real name, married or maiden, as thus 
 in ' Laura ' (2nd Part, xxxiii) : 
 
 " 'gainft all fenfe makes raee of Care and It, 
 More than of good and ComfoRT to have will, " 
 
 and so in ' Alba ' (p. 70, st. 4) : 
 
 " Then conftant Care, not Comfort I do crane, 
 And (might I chufe) I Care with L. would haue. " 
 
 Super-added to this — as in his Bibliographical Catalogue 
 recorded by Mr. J. Payne Collier — is an apparent localiza- 
 
 * His Will is also at Somerset House (97 Meade). It is dated 26th April 
 1618, and was proved 28th October 1618. To his wife and mother he leaves 
 "lands, goods, and monies," and to his son Charles, eventually, "all his 
 lands," &c. To his daughter Amabell — remembered by Tofte — he leaves 
 2,000/. at age of seventeen, " and to be guided by her mother in bestowing her- 
 self in marriage." In the event of the death of the aforesaid Charles, she was 
 also to inherit the estates, &c. 
 
Introduction. xi 
 
 tion of this ' Carill ' or ' Caryll ' in Warrington, Lancashire 
 (p. 48, St. 3) : 
 
 " War in that towne, Love Lord like, keepeth ftil, 
 Yet Ihe (ore him) triumphs with chafteft will. " 
 
 Three of our best Lancashire antiquaries, after pains- 
 taking enquiries and consultation of their full ' Notes ' for 
 me, can trace no Careill, Carill or Caryll in either Warring- 
 ton or Lancashire. The only Caryll of about this period 
 whom we can in any way associate with the part of Lanca- 
 shire in which Warrington is situated, is Mary Caryll, 
 daughter and coheiress of Sir Thomas Caryll, Knt., of 
 Bentone, in the county of Sussex. She married Sir Richard 
 Molyneux of Sefton, near Liverpool, afterwards Viscount 
 Molyneux, and was mother of Richard, second Viscount, 
 killed in the battle of Worcester, 1651, and of Caryll, third 
 Viscount Molyneux. There is the other difficulty, that while 
 certainly ' Warre in that town' does seem to point out War- 
 rington, the Poet himself can never have been there or 
 known the district, seeing that he makes the ' Mersey ' fall 
 into the ' Trent ' — as noticed in our Notes and Illustrations 
 on the place (p. 13, Answer, 11. 2, 4).* As also noted therein, 
 the lady must have been a ' young widow ' with a posthu- 
 mously born child (p. 24, st. i). It seems clear that she re- 
 fused her ecstatic lover until the bitter end, and that he died 
 a bachelor, having not loved wisely but too well. The im- 
 pression left on one is that the Lady held herself for higher 
 than her wooer ; but ' played ' with him after a womanishly 
 capricious not to say cruel sort. I suspect ' Robert Tofte 
 Gentleman ' was — if the vulgarism be allowable — spoony. 
 More self-respecting manhood and less sentimental lack-a- 
 
 * One might imagine the name Mersey to have slipped in by mistake for 
 ' Devon, ' a river which really doesflowintothe Trent, and near which I. M. must 
 have lived. Since the 'Mersey' occurs in each of the two next pages, and 
 must have been habitually in Tofte's mind, it is at least possible that it was here 
 inadvertently written. He designates his ' Alba's' home a ' Northwest Village.' 
 (p. 28, St. 2.) 
 
xii Introduction. 
 
 daisical whining had perchance succeeded better. But more 
 on this onward, in the light of another poem by Tofte. 
 
 I would now notice the title-pages of Tofte's successive 
 books : 
 
 {a) Laura, 1597 — see it liter atini on page xxvi, onward 
 of this Introduction, (sm. i2mo.) 
 
 (U) Alba, 1598 — see it literatim on page i of our pre- 
 sent reproduction, (sm. i2mo.) 
 
 {c) Orlando inamorato. The three firft Bookes of that 
 famous Noble Gentleman and learned Poet, Mathew 
 Maria Boiardo Earle of Scandiano in Lombardie. 
 Done into Englilh Heroicall verfe. By R. T. 
 Gentleman. Parendo impero Imperando pereo. 
 Printed at London by Valentine Sims, dwelling on 
 Adling hil at the figne of the white Swanne. 1598, 
 (sm. 4to.) 
 
 (d) Of Mariage and Wiuing. An Excellent, pleaf- 
 ant, and Philofophical Controverfie, betweene the 
 two famous Taffi now liuing, the one Hercules the 
 Philofopher, the other, Torquato the Poet. Done 
 into Englifh by R. T. Gentleman. London Printed 
 by Thomas Creede, and are to be fold by lohn 
 Smythicke, at his fhop in Fleet ftreete near the 
 Temple Gate. 1599. (cr. 8vo.) 
 
 (if) Ariostos Satyres in feuen famous Difcourfes, 
 fhewing the State, i. Of the Court and Courtiers. 
 2. Of Libertie and the Clergie in generall. 3. Of 
 the Romaine Clergie. 4. Of Marriage. 5. Of 
 Soldiers Mufitians and Lovers. 6. Of School- 
 mafters and Scholers. 7. Of Honour and the hap- 
 pieft Life. In Englifh by Gervis Markham. Lon- 
 don Printed by Nicholas Okes for Roger Jackfon. 
 1608. (sm. 4to.) 
 
 (/) Honours Academie. On the famovs Paftorall, 
 of the Faire Shepheardeffe Ivlietta. A worke ad- 
 mirable, and rare, Sententious and graue: and no 
 
Introduction. xiii 
 
 leffe profitable, then pleat int to pervfe. Imprinted 
 
 at London by Thomas Cr„ede. 1610. (sm. folio.) 
 {g) Benedetto Varchi's, The Blason of Iealovsie, 
 
 tranflated into Englifh, with fpecial Notes, by R. T. 
 
 London Printed by T. S. for John Bufbie. 1615. 
 
 (sm. 4to.) 
 Before examining 'Laura' and 'Alba,' it may not be 
 deemed superfluous briefly to notice these other books, all 
 of which are substantially ' translations ' from Italian. 
 
 ' Orlando Inamorato ' is singularly unequal ; but shews 
 familiarity with the language and dexterity of versification. 
 Any one who comes across it, might do worse than 'study' it. 
 I found myself ever and anon marking a felicitous image, or 
 a resonant Drydenlc line and even couplet. I limit my- 
 self to the opening and close. These as containing personal 
 references to 'Alba' and to one of the Poet's other lady 
 friends, Brooke, are of interest. In the 'Argument ' (st. 2, 3) 
 we have this : 
 
 " Famous Orlando was the Man I meane, 
 And faire Angelica that vfde him fo, 
 Thefe two muft be the fubiedt of my Theame, 
 If my deare Alba fo much fauor (how, 
 Wlio in her hate to mee is too extreame, 
 (Like fea that neuer ebbes, but ftill doth flow) 
 
 My comfort's this, though high my Thoughts be plac't, 
 If I obtaine not. None fliall, Shee's fo cliafte. 
 
 And thou faire Brooke, whence fpriugs ech fweet Conceit, 
 
 Where Beautie bides in her perfeftion, 
 
 Thy Gracious Afpedl humblie I entreat, 
 
 (As happy Planet) me to fhine vpon, 
 
 Whilft I in Others, of thy felfe repeat. 
 
 Volumes of Praife, due to thee ' Dng ago. '' (p. 2. ) 
 
 The ' Conclusion ' thus runs : 
 
 " Faire Shadowe of a Subflance pniTmg Faire, 
 The Pifture of my Miftris Exce lence, 
 Receiue thefe lines impoliflied and bare, 
 For vnto thee, and none elfe are they meant, 
 Daine to accept them what fo ere they are. 
 Since for thy fake, few idle houres I fpent : 
 
xiv Introduction. 
 
 So criftall-like, ftill cieare may run thy Brooke, 
 Worthy, on whom all eyes may gaze and looke. 
 
 The time may come (ah that t'wold not be long) 
 
 If my dread Alba, leaiie in cruell wife, 
 
 My harmleffe heart (ne're ftainde for faith) to wrong. 
 
 My Mufe now dead, againe to life fliall rife, 
 
 Singing anew, Orlando's louely fong. 
 
 Through vertue of thofe Diamond fparkes, her eyes. 
 
 When her and thee, Love's Twins borne of Delight, 
 He (Herald-like) difplay, in CouUours right." 
 
 II Disgratiato. R. T. G. 
 
 It would seem that Orlando Inamorato preceded Alba 
 of the same year (1598), and that Alba was the speedy- 
 fulfilment of the hope in the line above, "The time 
 may come (ah, that t'wold not be long)." Had I not 
 better things to give from his other writings, I might have 
 been tempted to linger over ' Orlando Inamorato.' It is not 
 so uncommon as the rest of his poems. A copy is in the 
 British Museum — as indeed there are of all save the real 
 rarities of ' Laura ' and ' Alba.' 
 
 ' Of Mariage and Wiuing ' is extrinsically interesting, as 
 shewing how Tofte's whole thoughts ran on the same lines, 
 whether he was ' translating ' or poetizing for himself. There 
 are ' girds ' at woman in the two Tasso tractates that it is 
 manifest gave the Translator a spice of pleasure to make 
 ' speak English,' as thus : 
 
 (Friend) marry when thou pleafe, yet flialt thou find 
 
 Thy wife bad alwaies, and but vfe her ill 
 
 And (he is worfe, but vfe her well and kind 
 
 She is worfer then, and fo continue will : 
 
 Yet is ftie good (if (he but once would die) 
 
 But better, if (he packt before thy felfe. 
 
 But beft of all, if (he went fpeedily, 
 
 Leaning behind to thee her hoorded wealth. 
 
 What fo he be that takes a wife 1 
 
 Is sure to take griefe, forrow, paine and (Irife. 
 
 What fo he be that wants a wife, 
 
 Is fure to want griefe, forrow, paine and ftrife. 
 
Introduction. xv 
 
 Man's bodie, goods, his foule and ftrength, 
 
 His fight, his voice and all, 
 Wife deftroies, confunies, kills, foyles, 
 
 Blindes, mars, and makes him thrall. 
 
 To cogge and lie, to whine and crie, 
 To prate and neuer blin ; 
 
 To fpin and weaue, ftiift and deceaue, 
 Thefe women's dowries bin. 
 
 A Woman's Sathan's Firebrand hot, 
 
 A ftinging Rofe corrupt, a poyfon fweete, 
 
 Readie to do amiife, though fliee's forbid. 
 
 Prone to all ill, but for what's good, vnmeete. 
 
 Wo vnto thee and double fmart. 
 If to a wife once yoakt thou art. 
 
 Of course the most luscious grapes are sour when the fox 
 can't reach them ! 
 
 ' Ariosto's Satyres ' bear on their title-page the venerable 
 nartie of Gervas Markham. Ordinarily one would have 
 accepted this as final on the authorship of a given book. 
 But Tofte, in his Epistle "To the Courteous Reader" prefixed 
 to his translation of Varchi's Blazon of lealousie," thus re- 
 claims the book for his: — "Courteous Reader, I had thought 
 for thy better contentment, to haue inferted (at the end of 
 this Booke) the difafterous fall of three noble Romane 
 Gentlemen, ouerthrowne thorow lEALOUSlE, in their Loues ; 
 but, the fame was, (with Ariosto's Satyres tranflated by 
 mee out of Italian into Englifh Verfe, and Notes vpon the 
 fame) Printed without my confent or knowledge, in another 
 man's name : fo that I might iuftly (although not fo worthily) 
 complaine as Virgil doeth : 
 
 Hos ego Verficulos feci tulit alter honores. " 
 All I will say is that Gervas (or Jervis) Markham was a 'fine 
 old English gentleman all of the olden time,' and a most 
 industrious toiler with a vivid poetical faculty of his own ; 
 and I for one will be slow to believe that it was other than 
 a Bookseller's trick that placed his popular name on this 
 
xvi Introduction. 
 
 title-page — never possibly himself. It so chances that I 
 have seen no exemplar of the work that contains the story 
 of the ' difafterous fall ' mentioned by Tofte as accompany- 
 ing the 'Satyres.' But a 'story' kin with them is ap- 
 pended — as we shall see — to the Blazon of lealousie. 
 There are good bits in these 'seuen famous Difcourses,' 
 and the versification is at once facile and faithful, and the 
 ' Notes ' matterful. 
 
 " Honovrs Academie " I tried valiantly to read ; but it 
 beat me. I found it so far from " admirable and rare, fen- 
 tentious and grave, and no leffe profitable than pleasant to 
 peruse,'' that it early proved tedious and ill put together. 
 The verse especially is cumbrous and unmusical. 
 
 The " Blazon of lealousie" owes nearly its entire quickness 
 to-day, to its numerous marginal notes. The original is 
 itself thin and poor, save in occasional gleams ; but the 
 ' Notes ' must arrest the most cursory Reader. And yet I 
 do not find that our literary authorities know anything 
 about them. Even the Bibliographers, e.g., Collier and 
 Hazlitt, fail to mention them. I have gleaned such as 
 belong to contemporary English literature. 
 
 First of all comes the rest of the Epistle "To the Covrteovs 
 Reader," with its pleasant praise of Gascoigne and Turber- 
 ville. As before quoted, he has mentioned his intention to 
 have added "the difafterous fall of three noble Romane 
 Gentlemen," and its suppression for reason given. He 
 then proceeds — " In lieu whereof, I make bold to acquaint 
 thee with another like Subiect, of an Englifti Gentleman, 
 a quondam deare and neare friend of mine, who was fo 
 ftrangely poffeft with this Fiend Iealousie, as (not many 
 yeeres fince) through a meere fantastique and conceited 
 Sufpicion, after hee had long enioyed the friendftiip of a 
 fayre Gentlewomen, he (on the fodaine) ftroake her off, and 
 vtterly forfooke her, fending her (for her laft Farewell) this 
 moft bitter and vnkinde Letter following, vpbraiding her 
 with many extraordinary Courtefies done vnto her by him : 
 
Introduction. xvii 
 
 which fhe tooke fo inwardly at the Heart, as it coft her her 
 beft life, and hee had (almoft) caft away himfelfe, through 
 that rafh and ftrange courfe hee tooke. A Caveat for all 
 young Gentlewomen to take heed how they fettle their 
 affection on fuch humerous young Youths, as are not well 
 ftayed, nor fetled in their mindes, remembring this faying : 
 
 ' Too oft 'tis feene, that Love, in yong men lyes, 
 Not (truely) in their Hearts, but in their Eyes. ' 
 
 " As for the Verfe, I muft confeffe tis like the old Venetian 
 Hofe, of an auncient fafliion : but thou muft confider, that 
 fome (though not many) yeeres are paft and gone, fince this 
 was made : at what time, it was well liked and much fought 
 after. But this nice Age, wherein wee now Hue, hath brought 
 more neate and terfe Wits, into the World : yet muft not 
 old George Gascoigne, and Turberuill, with fuch others, 
 be altogether reiected, fince they firft broke the Ice for our 
 quainter Poets that now write, that they might the more 
 fafer fwimme in the maine Ocean of fweet Poefie : and there- 
 fore, all old things muft not be caft away, becaufe they may 
 now and then, ftand vs in fome ftead. The world is mu- 
 table, and ftill changeth, and it hath been often feene, that 
 Eue's worne Kirtle, hath made old Adam a new payre of 
 Breeches. And thus hoping thou wilt fhew thy felfe to be 
 of a right gentle fpaniel's kinde, and not proue a fnarling 
 Mungrill Maftiffe, I wifti no worfe vnto thee, then thou doft 
 to thy felfe. R. T." 
 
 In the marginal notes {ut supra) there are memorable 
 quotations illustrative of the text. Passing from the com- 
 mencement onward, these following have struck me as 
 specially worthy of preservation and revival. By help of 
 willing friends I am enabled to place within brackets [ ] 
 nearly all their sources. 
 
 (i.) "Asonesaith: [George Chapman : Hymuus in Cynthiam, 1594.] 
 
 The Minde hath in it felfe a Deitie 
 And in the ftretchy circle of the eye 
 
xviii Introduction. 
 
 All things are compaft, all things piefent ftill : 
 
 Will fram'd to power doth make vs what we will. (p. 3-) 
 
 (2.) 
 
 Loue is a Friend, a Foe, a Heauen, a Hell, 
 
 Where Pleafure, Paine, Griefe and Repentance dwell, (p. 3. ) 
 
 (3.) "whereupon an Englifli Poet, fetting downe the difference betwixt Will 
 and Wit, writes : [Sir John Davies, Nosce Teipsum : vol. i, p. 78, F. W. Lby. ed. ] 
 
 Will holds the royall Sceptor in the Soule, 
 And o'er the Paffions of the Heart doth raigne. 
 Wit is the Mind's chiefe ludge, which doth controule 
 Of Fancie's Court, the iudgement falfe and vaine. 
 Will puts in pradlife what the Wit deuifeth. 
 Will euer afts and Wit contemplates ftill : 
 And as in Wit the power of Wifedome rifeth. 
 All other Vertues, Daughters are to WilU (p. 4.) 
 
 (4.) 'Beautie' — " of which fubieft the immortal Mufe of our euer memo- 
 rable Spenfer fmgeth thus : \Fairy Queen ; B. v, c. 8, st. I.] 
 'Nought under heauen,' &c. (Ibid.) 
 
 (5.) In note p. 6, again notes his translation of Ariosto 'in another man's 
 name.' 
 
 (6.) " Of Care one prettily and briefly writes thus : 
 
 ' Men dye, and humane Icinde doth pafle away, 
 Yet Care, that makes them die, doth euer ftay.' 
 
 And mine old Acquaintance and Friend, Mr. Henry Cunneftable, hauing fet 
 downe this Paffion in her right colours, I could not chufe but acquaint the 
 Reader therewith. [Diana, Dec. 5. Son. 7 ; this is one of the Sonnets modern 
 Editors take from Constable.] 
 
 ' Care, the cenfuring canker,' &c. (p. 10.) 
 
 (7.) "The Fiend Jeloufie, a quondam kinde Acquaintance of mine, Mr. 
 Thomas Watfon, paynteth forth very liuely in thefe Verfes : 
 
 'Pale lealoufie childe of infatiate Loue,' &c. (p. 11.) 
 [This is not Watson's, but is taken from Drayton's Mortimeriados, 1596, the 
 first form of the Barons' Wars.] 
 
 (8.) " Therefore very wittily faith one to this purpofe : 
 
 ' Pleafures, like pofting guefts, make but fmall ftay, 
 Where Griefes bide long and leaue a fcore to pay.' (p. 16.) 
 (9.) "who knoweth not, that 
 
 ' Reports, at randome runne, whilft Truth they miife 
 And Hear-fay fome to a Lyer counted is.' (p. 19.) 
 
 ( 10, ) " according to the faying of a certaine graue and wife Gentleman : 
 ' Vntainted Honor (not long life) the treafure is 
 Which noble mindes doe hold to be their chiefeft bliffe.' (p. 21.) 
 
Introduction. xix 
 
 (11.) "Indeede I am of opinion, that the moft worthleffe perfons are alwayes 
 
 moft fubiedl to this infedlious Difeafe of Jealoufie, as Mr. George Wither rightly 
 
 faith : {^Abuses Stript and Whift, B. i, Sat. 7.] 
 
 ' There is none lealous I durft pawne my life 
 But hee that hath defilde another's wife.' (p. 22.) 
 (12.) "For there [the heart] is her chiefe manfion house according to the 
 
 opinion of a Gentleman, an acquaintance of mine, who to this effe(5l, writeth 
 
 thus : [Anonymous in the Phcsnix Nest, 1593.] 
 
 ' A feeming Friend, but Enemie to Reft, 
 A wrangling Paffion, yet a gladforae thought ; 
 A bad Companion, yet a welcome Gheft, 
 A Knowledge wilht, yet found too foone vnfought ; 
 From Heauen fuppof 'd but (fure) fprung firft from Hell, 
 Is lealoufie, and there (forlorne) doth dwell. 
 From thence fliee fends fond Feare, and falfe fufpedl, 
 To haunt our thoughts, bewitched with miftruft. 
 Which breeds in vs the Iffue and Effedl, 
 Both of Conceit and Fidlion moft uniufl : 
 The griefe, the ihame, the fmart thereof doth proue 
 That lealoufie is Death and Hell to Loue. 
 For what but Hell, moues in the iealous Heart 
 When reftleffe feare workes out all fugred ioyes, 
 Which doth both quench and kill that louing part, 
 And cloyes the minde, with worfe then knowne annoyes, 
 Whofe pleafure farre exceeds Hells deepe Extreames 
 Such life leades Loue, entangled with Mifdeames.' (p. 41.) 
 
 (13.) "The worth of Poets & Poetrie, can neuer be sufficiently commended 
 enough, although this Iron age hath nothing more in contempt, which is not the 
 fault of Scholers but of those dull Midaffes now lining, who make fo fmall account 
 of them, and therefore in paffing, well faid hee that wrote this Difticque : [From 
 Drayton's Epistle of the Earl of Surrey to the Lady Geraldine.] 
 ' The man that fcorneth Poets, and Art's Schoole, 
 Lackes but a long Coate to be Nature's Foole.' 
 Yet in defpight of thefe worfe than nafty laylors, that keepe luch ftore of 
 wealth in their bard Clofets, and fecret places, far darker than Lymbo it felfe, 
 for thofe that deferue it better euery way than themfelues (and all which dung- 
 hill muck is nothing but the bafe Excrements of their ftinking Earth) I will fet 
 downe here the worke of a Poet (more in value by moft than theii Idolatrous 
 tralh) as that fweet Mufe of his (who not vnworthily beareth the name of the 
 cheifeft Archangell) [i.e., Michael Drayton], fingeth after this foule-rauilhing 
 manner : 
 
 ' When Heauen w'd ftriue to doe the leaft (hee can 
 And put an Angell's spirit into a man, 
 Then all her powers fliee in that worke doth fpend 
 When fliee a Poet to the world doth fend ; 
 
XX Introdtiction. 
 
 The difference onely twixt the God and Vs, 
 Allow'd by them, is but diftingiiifli'd thus ; 
 They give them breath, Men by their Power are borne, 
 That life they giue the Poet doth adorne : 
 And for the world, when they diffolue man's breath, 
 They in the world doe giue Man life in death. ' (p. 48. ) 
 
 (14.) " Therefore I wil be bold to defcant vpon it thus : [Chapman's Hero 
 and Leander, Sest. 3.] 
 
 ' What is not Loue ? tis all Vertue and Vice, 
 Humble, proud, witty, fooliih, kinde and nice ; 
 A golden bubble, blowne big with idle Dreames, 
 That waking breakes, and fils vs with Extreames.' 
 Or rather thus : 
 
 ' Loue tackeward fpeld (put I for O) is Evil, 
 -^ - Add D before the same and tis the Devil. 
 A Devil 'trs and mischiefe fuch doth worke 
 As neuer yet did Pagan, lew, nor Turke.' (p. 50.) 
 
 (15.) There is a droll story of a jealous swain who killed a stranger, with this 
 note. ' I will tell them in their owne natural and mother tongue what our 
 Countreyman young Master Wither writes : 
 
 (Whofe pleafmg Satyres neuer fliall decay 
 But florifli greene, like laurell and the Bay. )' 
 " In gross saythehee, and vaine for to vpholde. 
 That all reports which Trauellers vnfolde 
 Of forraine Lands, are lyes," &c. (p. 57.) 
 
 Besides the delightfully chatty ' Notes ' which over-flow 
 
 into almost every margin of every page, there is not a little 
 
 that is noteworthy in the appended poem entitled — " The 
 
 Frvits of lealoujie. Contayning the difafterous Chance of 
 
 two Englifh Louers, ouer-throwne through meere Conceit 
 
 of lealoufie : as in the Epiftle afore-going to the Reader, 
 
 you may perceiue more at large." I have a shrewd suspicion 
 
 from the odd realism of incident, circumstance and experience, 
 
 that spite of his guising and disguising words about a 
 
 'quondam acquaintance,' we really have in this singular 
 
 poem the over-true tale of the upshot of Tofte's Love's 
 
 Labour Lost in his wooing of Euphemia Carill, alias Laura 
 
 and Alba. The vehement Epistle thus opens : 
 
 " Since thou (falfe Dame) doft force me write, 
 Who doft my Loue reward with fpight : 
 
Introduction. xxi 
 
 Since thou didft (firft) the knot vntye, 
 Where Lone (long knit) twixt vs did lie : 
 Since (careleiTe) thou didft (firft) him loofe, 
 Whom thou (for euer) Friend didft choofe ; 
 Then thinke not much, although I take 
 My Penne in hand defence to make, 
 To cleare my felfe from euery Crime, 
 Committed by fond Lightneife thine, 
 Although thou make me (wronged) beare 
 The Willow Garlancl y/hich I weare." 
 
 The ' Willow Garland ' is thus worked into each stanza 
 or division. I assume that the following lines are meant to 
 put the Reader off the scent from Laura or Alba by a 
 fictitious lowly parentage. I say 'parentage'; for the word 
 ' Husband ' must either have slipped in inadvertently for 
 ' father,' or have been used with another meaning than that of 
 'spouse.' Had she had a (living) husband she could not 
 have been addressed as she is throughout the poem. 
 
 " I then (in priuate) crau'd of thee, 
 Thy Husband's Trade and Miftery. 
 Thy anfwere was a Milliner, 
 That folde fmall wares, and fmal flight geere : 
 Yet open fliop not much kept hee. 
 But to his Friends folde priuily." (p. 69.) 
 
 I will now leave further successive representative-quota- 
 tions to speak for themselves : 
 
 1. " And though I ftand in my defence 
 
 And quit my felfe through Innocence ; 
 
 Suppofe not yet, this fpeech I make 
 
 That thou fhouldfl pittie on mee take ; 
 
 For I difdayne fo much thy Change, 
 
 (Though but of late, thou ganne to range) 
 
 That I doe loath to heare from thee 
 
 Much move thy flattering Face to see : 
 
 So much thy dealing I deteft, 
 
 That I haue (now) fet vp my Reft ; 
 
 Although thou thinking me to grieue 
 
 The Willow-garland doft me giue." (pp. 63-6.) 
 
 2. " Firft when I view'd thy heauenly Face, 
 
 Thy feemly Stature, gallant Grace, 
 
xxii Introduction. 
 
 Thy Haire like curled wyre of Gold, 
 
 Thine Eyes like Starres in Winter cold, 
 
 Thy milky Necke, thy comely Nofe, 
 
 Thy Colour, Lilly mixt with Rofe, 
 
 Thy Shoulders flender, and yet ftrong. 
 
 Thy fupple Hand, and Fingers long, 
 
 Thy ftraight cleane Legge, thy pretty Foote, 
 
 Like to the noble Cedar roote ; 
 
 I thought not once then in my minde 
 
 The Willow Garland for to finde. " (p. 67. ) 
 
 3. " The Melancholy vaine then beft 
 
 Did mee content of all the reft ; 
 
 Oft in that Humor walk't I lone. 
 
 Which bred me mirth, yet made me moane ; 
 
 It brought me ioy, yet made me fad, 
 
 It bred me woe, yet made me glad : 
 
 Oh how it did me, mickell good. 
 
 To chew vpon that folemne cud. 
 
 In vncouth places, where did grow 
 
 The palifh Willowes, all a-row : 
 
 Full little thinking in that ftound 
 
 With Willow Garland to\>a crown'd." (p. 70.) 
 
 4. " How oft m filed Profe and Verfe 
 
 Did I thy worth'lefle praife rehearfe ! 
 
 I famous made thee firft of all. 
 
 When countenance thine god knowes was fmall : 
 
 And by fuch toyes as I had pend 
 
 Each one thy perfon did commend. (p. 71.) 
 
 I intercalate that 'Toyes' is the sub-title of 'Laura' (1597). 
 There follow queer bits on ' bankets,' including purchase of 
 a gift of a pound of cherries that cost him ;^s ! He also plays 
 on his pet name of ' Robin Red Brest ' — 
 
 5. "So didft thou fweare thou wouldft be fed, 
 
 With Birds, fuch as, whofe brefts be Red; 
 In fecret thou to me didft tell, 
 They 'greed with thee in ftomacke well : 
 Thou faidft, their flelh was tender, white, 
 And in digeftion they were light. 
 That thou didft like and loue them beft. 
 And didft preferre them, 'fore the reft, 
 Thou faidft that thee no Fowle did pleafe, 
 Nor Princely Di(h, fo well as thefe : 
 
Introduction. xxiii 
 
 And wiflit that they might neuer feed 
 
 On fViUow-Garlamfs hitter (eed. (p. 74.) 
 
 6. " Vet th' appetite fo bad now is 
 
 As thou muft talce another Difh ; 
 
 Too long thou haft on Robbins fed. 
 
 Now loathfome are thofe Birds fo Red : 
 
 A Pig forfooth, now eat thou muft 
 
 Els loft will be thy wanton luft, 
 
 Indeed, meat fit for fuch as thou, 
 
 Thou feedft on thine owne kinde as now ; 
 
 On fuch like ftuffe ftill mayfl thou feede 
 
 That ftill doft wauer as a Reede, 
 
 And mak'ft me weare with griefe of minde, 
 
 The JVillow-garland mod vnkmde,'' (p. 75.) 
 
 He will go on the 'Indian Voyage to the Golden Country' 
 - visions of which Raleigh had flashed before Englishmen. 
 
 7. " My Country England, fare thou well, 
 
 And louely F. where I did dwell : 
 
 Deare Mother, I you bid Adiew, 
 
 Full little thinke you what He doe, 
 
 Full little thinke you what your Sonne, 
 
 Through youthfull Folly now hath done : 
 
 My fifters fweet, my Brethren all, 
 
 I wifh you well, fayre yee befall : 
 
 My Friends and Quaintauce euery one. 
 
 Adieu to you, I muft be gone ; 
 
 My Ship from others you may know, 
 
 The Willow-garland \t doth ftiow." (p. 84.) 
 
 Of a fierce tirade or ' flyting ' this is the close : 
 
 8. "Be thou a Lazer foule in fight. 
 
 To clap thy Dith as CteJjTid light ; 
 
 And oh, maift thou leade fuch a life, 
 
 As whilome did Shore's wretched Wife, 
 
 Or end thy dayes like ROSAMOND, 
 
 Who (burfl with poyfon) dead was found : 
 
 Or worfer death, if worfe may be, 
 
 With ihame and griefe foone light on thee. 
 
 And fince to pray I now am bound, 
 
 A P of God thee (ftraight) confound. 
 
 And all fuch FUrts, as make men proue 
 
 The Willow-garland ioi their Loue." (p. 86.) 
 
xxiv Introduction. 
 
 I have wholly over-passed a not very decent adventure 
 wherein the ' Lady ' was rescued from drowning, One odd 
 word occurs twice, 'Dnabfuh,' as apparently = servant. The 
 whole ' burden ' of this ' difafterous Chance ' seems to me to 
 point to Tofte himself, as illustrating another Poet's saying : 
 
 " Love when injured turns to Hatred 
 And when ill-requited ftarts to Vengeance." 
 
 The revulsion would be all the greater that in the beginning 
 
 he had been passionately, rapturously trustful, or as he 
 
 himself puts it (using the noticeable word ' Feature ' for 
 
 person) : 
 
 "Thy Feature fweet made me fuppofe 
 Thou meand'ft but truth and couldft not glofe." (p. 82.) 
 
 I have the more willingly quoted fully from the ' Frutes 
 of lealoufie,' as it appears to have wholly escaped the atten- 
 tion of our literary authorities — as so sorrowfully much 
 does. 
 
 We must now turn to the first of our Worthy's produc- 
 tions, viz., his Laura, which intrinsically is notable, while 
 from its relation to our reproduction, viz.. Alba, it was of 
 vital importance that I should be able to give an account of 
 and quotations from it. By the usual prompt kindness of 
 Sir Charles E. Isham, Bart., of Lamport Hall, near 
 Northampton — scene of Mr. Charles Edmonds' remarkable 
 ' Find ' of unique and extremely rare Elizabethan-Jacobean 
 books — I was at once put in possession of his exemplar of 
 it. Only another is known — at Britwell.* I had no desire 
 to reproduce ' Laura ' completely for three reasons, (a) That 
 as the postscript by the Author's friend in his absence attests, 
 
 * Curiously enough, this second copy ought to have been m the Bodleian. It 
 was bought for it ; but somehow the (then) Librarian, Dr. Bandinell, appears to 
 have taken it home with him for collation or other purpose, and forgotten about 
 it, and so it was included (unfortunately) in the Sale of his Library, at which it 
 fetched 29/. \qs. It had been, I am informed, duly entered among the additions 
 to the Bodleian in the year of its purchase, 
 
Introduction. xxv 
 
 " more than thirtie " of the (so called) " Sonnets " are not 
 Tofte's, but "intermixt with his." (b) The quality, as a 
 whole, is greatly inferior to Alba, (c) I believe it will be in- 
 cluded in extenso in Mr. Charles Edmonds' Isham Reprints. 
 En passant, Mr. J. PAYNE CoLLlSR {Bibl. Catal) supposes 
 that the initials ' R. B.' appended to this postscript Epistle 
 represent Richard Barnfeilde. I cannot for a moment 
 agree with him ; much less that he (Barnfeilde) was the 
 author of the " more than thirtie Sonnets intermixt " with 
 the others. The Poet of the 'Ode' had a far higher inspira- 
 tion than anything in ' Laura ' or ' Alba.' 
 
 I have now to present my Readers with all that I have 
 myself found after three critical readings in ' Laura,' worth 
 recalling to the light of our modern day. I begin with the 
 title-page and Epistles, and so on to the closing post-script 
 Epistle {ut supra). I have studiously selected such of the 
 Sonnets (so called) as must have been Tofte's from their 
 direct celebration of his lady-love ' Laura.' There are little 
 incidents of their intercourse, meetings and partings, giving 
 and taking of love-gifts, that are biographically of human 
 interest. Here and there will be found an opaline gleam of 
 felicitous image or conceit, and also a true bird-note out of 
 the greenwood. He is extremely ingenious and quaint in 
 turning the most unexpected accident of circumstance to 
 account in enforcing his 'wooing.' I have placed below slight 
 ' notes ' on a few of the words and allusions. The Reader 
 may rest assured that nothing of any memorableness has 
 escaped me. And so we proceed, with only this further 
 preliminary word, that 'Laura' is shewn to have been 
 identical with 'Alba' in Alba itself, e.g.: 
 
 " Like Pelrark chajie of Laura coy I plaine 
 Of whom I (neuer yet) could Fatiour gaine.'' (p. 102, st. 4.) 
 
XXVI 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 LAVRA 
 
 The Toyes of a Traueller. 
 
 OR. 
 
 The Feaft of Fancie. 
 
 Diuided into three 
 Parts. 
 
 By R. T. Gentleman. 
 
 Poca fauilla gran fiamma fe- 
 conda. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed by Valentine Sims. 
 
 1597- 
 
 The Epiftle Dedicatorie. (A 2 A 3, 3 pp.) 
 
 tf^k] To the no leffe vertuous, than f aire, the honourable Ladie 
 •'^■' Lucie, filler to the thrice renowmed and nohle Lord, Henry 
 
 Earle of Northumberland, &c. 
 Good Madam, I mate bold to prefent vnto you a few Toyes of mine owne 
 trauell, moft parte conceiued In Italie, and feme of them brought foorth in 
 England : by which my imperfections, you may fee (as in a liuely Mirror) your 
 owne perfedlions ; and by the follies of my rechleiife youth, behold plainly the 
 virtues of your flowring age, hoping your Ladifhip wil keep them as priuately, 
 as I fend them vnto you moft willingly ; neither doubt I at all, but that your 
 excellent fpirit will iudge gracioufly of this my bare, yet bounden Conceit, and 
 to accept the fame (as a mean at ydle times) to driue away that felfe-pleaf- 
 ing, yet ill-eafmg humour of neuer glad melancholie : which fpitefuU Fortune 
 (feeking, though in vaine, moft iniurioufly to infult ouer you) laboureth by all 
 
Introduction. xxvii 
 
 meanes pofsible to infliA vpon you, the vertuous behauiour of your felfe being 
 fuch, as euen in the midft of all your erodes, you crofle her defignes with an 
 inuincible hart, and with your lionorable carriage carrie her with all her deuifes 
 as a flaue to follow you, in al your generous and thrice noble acftions, maugre 
 the intricate Laborinth of fo manie and infinite troubles allotted (moft vnwor- 
 thely) vnto you, by the inerreuocable doome of your too partiall and flintie 
 Deftinie. All which notwithftanding, you beare and ore-beare with a moft re- 
 folute ftaiednes & a refolued courage of a right Percie, and of a miude A per 
 fe. But additions breed fufpitions, and faire words (for the moft part) are 
 counted the blazons of flatterie ; wherefore I will leaue to the temperate iudge- 
 ment of the wife, and to the vncorrupt cenfure of the worthier fort, your heroi- 
 cal & vndaunted mind, and the integritie and neuer ftaind proceedings of your 
 fpotleffe felfe. Onely this with fubmifiion wil I fay, that if the richnes of the 
 ground is knowne by the Come, the daintineffe of the Water by the fweetneffe 
 of the fifli, and the goodneffe of the tree by the rarenefle of the fruite ; then 
 may euerie man giue a geffe of the internall habit & excelent qualities of your 
 inward minde, by the outward behauior and apparant femblance of your ex- 
 ceeding chaft and more than admirable demeanor in euerie refpedl. And thus, 
 hoping your Honour will as debonairly accept of thefe trifles, as I dutifully be- 
 queath them vnto you, and with the Sun-(hining fauour of your gracious afpedl 
 deign to read thefe few lines : craning both priuiledge and pardon for all fuch 
 faults and defedls as thai happen to be difcouered in the fame ; I humbly denote 
 my felfe vnto your Lordftiip's thrice vertuous and immaculate difpofition and 
 commaund whatfoeuer. Who am 
 
 Bound as a vaffal to doo 
 
 homage vnto the fame 
 
 for euer. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 To the Reader. (A 3 verso and A 4, 2 pp.) 
 
 To the gentle, and Gentlemen Readers whatfoeuer. 
 Gentlemen ; as the Fencer firft maketh a flourifli with his weapon, before he 
 commeth to ftroakes, in playing his prize : So I thought good {fro forma onely) 
 to vfe thefe few lines vnto you before you come to the pith of the matter. 
 What the Gentleman was that wrote thefe Verfes, I know not ; and what (he 
 is for whom they are deuifed, I cannot gheffe : but thus much I can fay, that 
 as they came into the hands of a friend of mine by mere fortune ; fo hapned I 
 vpon them by as great a chaunce. Onely in this I muft confefle we are both 
 too blame, that whereas he hauing promifed to keepe priuate the originall, and 
 I the copie, fecret : we both haue cofented to fend it abroad, as common : pre- 
 fuming chiefly vpon your accuftomed curtefies ; affuring our felues if we may 
 haue your protedVions, wee fliall thinke our felues as fafe as Vlyffes did, when 
 hee was ihadowed vnder the Ihielde of Pallas agaiuft furious Aiax ; fo we by 
 your coutenances, ihal be fufficiently fumilhed to encounter againft any foule- 
 raouthed lackes whatfoeuer. To cenfure of this worke, is for better wittes 
 than mine owne ; and it is for Poets, not for Printers, to giue iudgement of this 
 
xxviii Introduction. 
 
 matter : yet if I may be bolde to reporte what I haue heard other Gentlemen 
 affirme ; many haue written worfe, fome better, few fo well : the worke being 
 fo fill of choice & change, as it is thoght it will rather delight euery way, 
 than diflilce any way. Thus curteous Gentlemen, building vppon my woonted 
 foundation of your friendly acceptance, I reft your debtors, and will ftudie 
 in what I can daily to make you amends. 
 
 Yours alwayes. 
 Verse-dedication (A 4 verso and I page, 2 pp. ) 
 Alia bcllifsima fua Signora 
 E. C. 
 Through thee, (not of thee) Ladie faire I write, 
 Through power of Beautie, not of Vertues thine : 
 With zealous will, though ilender be my might, 
 I weakling feeke, an Eagle's neft to clime. 
 
 Then guide my feete, and if to flip I chaunce, 
 Vphold mee by the fauour of thy glaunce. 
 
 Accept in gree thefe Verfes rudely pend, 
 
 (A figne of dutie, which to thee I owe) 
 
 And deigne with fweet regard them to defend, 
 
 Which as condemned els are like to goe. 
 
 In thee it reds the ftampe on them to fet, 
 If currant, Paffe : fnppreft, if Counterfet. 
 
 And though the note (thy praifes onely fit) 
 
 Of fweeteft Bird, the dulcet Nightingale : 
 
 Difdaine not little Robin Red-bref T yet, 
 
 [He fmgs his lowly beft if he doth fail] 
 
 What he doth want in learning or in skill. 
 He doth fupply with zeale of his goodwill. 
 
 For onely Thee they were deuifde alone, 
 
 And vnto Thee they dedicated are. 
 
 Who knowes ? Perhaps this kindnes by thee fliewne, 
 
 Shall make this glimpfe fliine like a gliftering ftarre : 
 Such is thy vertue in the World his fight. 
 Thy Crow though blacke, may goe for Swan mod white. 
 
 Then doubt mee not, though parted wee remaine. 
 
 In England thou, and 1 in Italy : 
 
 As I did part I will returne againe, 
 
 Loyall to thee, or els with fliame He dye. 
 
 True Louers when they trauaile Countreyes ftrange. 
 The aire, and not their conftant mindes doo change. 
 
 Caelum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt 
 
 Affettionatifsimo feruid. della 
 
 diuina Belezza fua. 
 
 R. T. 
 
Introduction. xxix 
 
 From 'The First Part.' 
 I. 
 Fortune (cros frend to euer-coquring Loue) 
 Our bodies (Ladie) hatli deuided farre, 
 But yet our coftant minds (he cannot moue, 
 Which ouer ilrong for her deuifes are : 
 
 Woe's me, in England thou doft bide, & I 
 
 (Scarfe Ihadow of my felfe) in Italy. 
 But let her doo her worft, and what is frail 
 And mortal! feeke to feperate and vndoo, 
 Yet what immortall is, fhe neuer Ihall : 
 A firing too high for her to reach vntoo. 
 
 In fpite of enuious feeds (by Malice fowne) 
 
 My hart ihall ay be thine, and mine thine owne. 
 
 Padoa. 
 
 II. 
 
 Though I doo part, my Hart yet dooth not part ; 
 
 My poore afHidled bodie parts in twaine. 
 
 And doth in peeces two deuide my Hart : 
 
 One peece my fainting fpirit doth fuflalne. 
 
 The other part I leaue with thee behinde, 
 
 (The better part, and of my hart moft deere) 
 
 Then to that part fo parted, be thou kinde. 
 
 And to the fame impart thy louing cheere : 
 That I (returning) may again vnite 
 This parted Hart, and finde for griefe, delight. 
 
 London. 
 
 III. 
 Like to the blackforae night I may compare 
 My Miitres gowne, when darknes playes his prife : 
 But her fweet face, like to the Sunne moft faire. 
 When he in glory ginneth to arife. 
 
 Yet this no whit the other doth difgrace, 
 
 But rather dubleth Bewtie in the place. 
 Contraries like to thefe fet oppofite, 
 So daintie and fo pleafing in their fliow 
 To lookers on, doo breed no fmall delight, 
 And pleafure great thereby to them doth grow. 
 
 Oh wonder ilrange, oh follace fweete to fee. 
 
 In one felfe fubieft Night and Day to bee. 
 
 X. 
 If (Laura) thou dooft burne gainft me in hate, 
 Then me fuch buifes fweete why dooft thou giue ? 
 
 E 
 
XXX Introduction. 
 
 Why checkft thou not the Cheeks which g^ue the mate, 
 (The vitall caufe whereby I breathe and Hue) ? 
 Perhaps it is, becaufe through too much ioy 
 (As in fweete fwound) I might away depart : 
 If fo thou doo, and thinke me fo to noy ; 
 Kiffe hardly, and witli kifsing breed my fmart. 
 Content am I to loofe this life of mine, 
 Whilft I doo kiife that louely lip of thine. 
 
 XV. 
 Thou ftranger who with wandring fteps doft wend. 
 Thy gazing eyes turne quickly vnto mee : 
 And too my fpeech with liflning eare attend, 
 In whom foure Elements vnited bee. 
 
 Marke well, and as a wonder tell the fame 
 
 Of Cupid's force, poore Louers' Tamburlane. 
 Firft; this my body's earth, and earth moft cold, 
 The fire within my hart in couert lyes. 
 The aire's my fighes, mine eyes doo waters hold : 
 Thus for my Saint he doth me marterize. 
 
 Earth is my bodie, ftrange feemes not this fame ? 
 
 The aire my fighes, eyes water, hart the flame. 
 
 XVII. 
 Rockt in a cradle (like as Infants bee) 
 When I was yong, a little wanton childe, 
 Two daintie dugs did nouriih life in mee, 
 Whilft oft on them with teate in mouth I fmilde : 
 Ah happie I, thrice happy might I fay, 
 Whilft in that harmlefle ftate I then did ftay. 
 But now that I am come to man's eftate. 
 Such dugs as nurft me in delight and ioy 
 Doo feeke my death, by poyfonous fugred bait, 
 Whofe fight without pofTeffion breeds me noy. 
 So what in childhood caufed me to liue. 
 Now in my youth doth death vnto me giue. 
 
 XXII. 
 If in the midft of kindled burning fire 
 That worthy Romane burnt his valiant hand, 
 I like an other Mutius in defire, 
 
 Haue icorcht my fift likewife through Loue's command 
 In frefheft moyfture, where my Ladie fweet, 
 Her lily hands for coolnes diued oft. 
 But though defire betweene vs was alike. 
 Yet was the matter diuers which we fought, 
 
 He chofe to burne his hand with courage bold 
 In flaming fire, and I in water cold. 
 
Introduction. xxxi 
 
 XXV. 
 
 White was the orient pearle, which on a day 
 
 That liand me gaue, which fcomes the proud compare 
 
 Of pureft white, and beares the palrae away, 
 
 As of all pearly faires the orientft faire : 
 
 And whilft fhe offred vnto mee the fame, 
 
 I knew not which the pearle was of the twaine. 
 
 So white the hand was of my peerleffe Pearle, 
 
 As it did dazle with delight mine eyes, 
 
 And pearle feem'd to me, giuing me the pearle : 
 
 Which made me fighing fay (in whifpring wife) 
 Ah why once may I not fo happie bee 
 This Pearle to haue, which th'other giues to mee. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 As bumifht gold fuch are my Soueraigne's heares ; 
 
 A brace of ftarres diuine, her blackifli eyes, 
 
 Like to the faireft black the Rauen beares, 
 
 Or fairer, if you fairer can deuife : 
 
 So likewife faire's the beautie of her brefts, 
 
 Where pleafure lurkes, where ioy ftill dallying refls. 
 
 This Venus bower, you rightly may compare 
 
 To whiteft fnow that ere from heauen fell, 
 
 Or to the mynes of alabafler faire : 
 
 (Woe's mee, tis fweete to fleepe in Cupid's cell) 
 Whilft he the hart makes furfet with delight 
 Through golden haire, black eyes, & breft moft white. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Vnto thy fauour (which when Nature formd, 
 
 She went beyond her felfe with cunning hand) 
 
 I may compare what is in world adornd 
 
 With beautie moft, and with moft grace doth ftand : 
 
 But euerie mortall whitenes nere fo white, 
 
 The yuorie white of thy white hand exceeds. 
 
 So that my Soule (which doth faire whitenes like) 
 
 Refls on faire whitenes, and on whitenes feeds : 
 For this is thought and hoped of from thee, 
 White as thy hands, fo white thy faith ftialbee. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 Sweet fung thy Bird in Ebon cage ihut faft, 
 And did delight thy daintie eares fo much. 
 As thou vouch-fafdft to glue him meate at laft, 
 And gently didft his fethers ftroke and tuch : 
 So Ladie, I likewife in th' Ebonie 
 Of thy bright eyes am prifoner, and doe fmg 
 
xxxii Introduction. 
 
 Thy Beautie's praife ; and yet not fed am I 
 By thee, yet liue through thee : a wondrous thing. 
 Loue to my hart thy Beautie doth fupplie 
 For food, which els (throgh famine ftarud) would die. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 If white's the Moone, thou Laura feemft as white. 
 
 And white's the gowne which you on bodie weare ; 
 
 And if her whitely homes in calmie night 
 
 She fraoothly glyding fliowes to vs moft cleare : 
 You in the day time more and brighter farre, 
 Your Beautie fliowe like bright Aurorae^s ftarre. 
 
 Like brightnes both of you abroad doe call. 
 
 Though not effeiil alike ^w accidens ; 
 
 You fhine, flie (hines, your powers etemall laft : 
 
 But yet betweene you is great difference, 
 
 Her brightnes fireezeth, caufing deadly cold, 
 Your's doth enflame, and liuely fire doth hold. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Euen as the lampe goeth out that oyle doth want. 
 
 Or as the Sunne doth fall in th' Occident, 
 
 So did my hart within me gin to pant. 
 
 My vitall fpirites away by little went : 
 
 When (taking on me pittie) gracioufly 
 
 My Miftres hem of garment trailing downe 
 
 Toucht mee, and mee reuiued fuddenly : 
 
 Then of fuch vertue be within her gowne, 
 Imagin what doth ftay her corps within. 
 Which who feeth, through fweetnes needs muft fin. 
 
 The Conclufion of the firft Part. 
 
 The Macedonian Monarch once did deigne 
 
 (In cheerful fort, in kind and louing wife) 
 
 To feaft in Village with a homely Swaine, 
 
 Who entertaind him (as is countrey guife) 
 
 With curds and creame, and fuch like knaskes* he had : 
 Whereof the curteous Prince accepted glad. 
 
 So Ladie, boldly X prefumed haue 
 
 To enuite you to a forie Banquet bafe : 
 
 Nor to difdaine the fame of you I craue. 
 
 Though cates too courfe for you, too poore the place. 
 I cannot (as I would) giue curds and creame, 
 But milke and whey, my fortune is fo meane. 
 
 * = knacks, niceties. 
 
Introduction. xxxiii 
 
 Yet if you (hall accept it gracioufly, 
 And with your Fauour fweet this Bourd adorne, 
 The vertue which is in you, prefently 
 The whey to curds, and milke to creame fliall turne : 
 But if your looke you angrie turne away. 
 The milke ftiall ftill be milke, the whay still whay. 
 
 Then as the Sunne in glorious wife doth ihine 
 As well on valley low as mountaine hie, 
 Vouchfafe one cheerefuU glimfe of fauour thine 
 On pouer mee, from out that heauenly eye : 
 
 Vnworthie I fuch grace (I doo confefle) 
 
 Yet worthie thou to doo fo, nertheleffe. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 From 'the fecond part.' 
 I, 
 
 If I fomewhile looke vp into the skies, 
 
 I fee (faire Lady) that fame cheerefuU light 
 
 Which like to you doth fliine, in glorious wife : 
 
 And if on th' earth I chance to caft my fight, 
 
 The mooueleffe Centre firme to me doth (how. 
 The hardnelfe which within your hart doth grow. 
 
 If feas I view, the flowing wanes moil plaine 
 
 Your fickle faith do reprefent to mee : 
 
 So as I ftill behold you to my paine, 
 
 When as the skies, or th' earth, or feas I fee : 
 
 For in your feeraely felfe doth plaine appeare. 
 Like faith, like hardnelT, and like brightnes cleare. 
 
 n. 
 
 Maruel I do not, though thou doeft not fee 
 
 My griefes and martires,* which I ftill fuftaine, 
 
 For thou the Mole of loue doeft feeme to me ; 
 
 But if a Mole, th' art onely to my paine. 
 
 How comes it then that feeing thou art blinde, 
 
 Thou me confumft, as if thou hadft thy fight ? 
 
 Why, as thy nature by inftindl doth bind 
 
 Stayeft not below ? packe hence, and leaue this light, 
 Either thofe eies ftil (hut, not me to grieue. 
 Or vnder ground, in darknes alwayes line. 
 
 X. 
 
 My mourning miftreife garments blacke doth beare, 
 And I in blacke like her attired am : 
 
 = tortures or sufferings ; Italian, martiri, Fr., martyres, 
 
xxxiv Introduction. 
 
 Yet diuers is the caufe why blacke we weare, 
 She for another's death doth Ihew the fame : 
 I for another reafon beare this fute, 
 Onely to ihew by this my outwarde weede 
 Mine inward griefe, although my tongue be mute, 
 Of tender heart which deadly fighes doth bleede. 
 Thrife happy I, if (as in habite we 
 Are both in one) our mindes both one might be. 
 
 XI. 
 
 If April frelh, doth kindely giue vs flowers 
 September yeeldes with more increafe the frute : 
 (Sweeteft) you haue in bofome (Beautie's Bowers) 
 Both thefe fweete tides, whence forth they alwayes fliute 
 Both flower and fruite alonely you alone 
 Can giue me when you pleafe, or elfe can none. 
 Oh dainty bofome, bofome rich in prife, 
 Surmounting mountaines huge of beaten gold : 
 Whofe whitenes braues* the whiteft fuow that lies 
 On higheft hilles, whofe height none can behold : 
 In you my foule doth hope without annoy, 
 Both fpring and harueft, one day to euioy. 
 
 Roma. 
 XII. 
 Drawne (cunning Painter) hall thou with great Arte, 
 The fliadow of my louely Laura faire ; 
 Which obieft fweet not fmally ioyes my hart ; 
 But little didft thou thinke, nor waft thou ware. 
 That where thou thoughtft my fancie for to pleafe, 
 EffeA contrary fortes to my Defire, 
 So that it breedes in bodie mine, vneafe 
 And (feufleffe) burnes my hart with feeling fire : 
 
 Oh ftrange fuccefle, what made was for Content, 
 Doth raoft difpleafe, and (liuelefle) doth torment. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 When firft the cruell Faire deignd gracioufly 
 To looke on mee with kinde and courteous view. 
 And caft on mee a louely glauncing eye. 
 She knew not that I was her feruant trew : 
 But flie no fooner ware was of the fame 
 But that ihe turnd her backe with great difdaine. 
 So as the wound I (then) clofe bare in breft, 
 I (now) through griefe, ftiow outward in my face : 
 
 * = vies with. 
 
Introduction. xxxv 
 
 But if that (he by whom I wounded reft, 
 
 Liues in compafsion cold toward me fanz grace : 
 
 Hard harted is flie, cruell was fhe to her frend, 
 
 And wicked (halbe world withouten end. 
 
 XV. 
 The duskie clowde in skie (with fliadow darke) 
 Doth couer oft the Sunne's moft cleereft light, 
 So as his beames we cannot fee nor marke. 
 And he himfelfe doth play at leaft in fight : 
 
 Ah were I iuch a clowd on earth to couer 
 
 My fweeteft Sunne, as doth that clowd the other. 
 But if that clowd doo vanifh foone away, 
 And dooth as momentarie paffe and vade ; 
 Eternall would I bee, to hide her ay, 
 And of a harder mixture would be made. 
 
 Oh happie I, oh fortunate Eclips, 
 
 With kifsing fo to darken thofe faire lips. 
 
 XVI. 
 From milke of luno (as the Poets faine) 
 The Lilly had his whitenes, paffing white, 
 And from Adonis blood (that louely Swaine) 
 The Rofe his colour red, which doth delight. 
 Thou (pretie Soule) haft both the colours rare 
 Of thefe fweet flowers, which others all exceed ; 
 Thy Breft's a bed of beauteous Lillies faire. 
 Thy daintie cheekes pure damask Rofes breed. 
 
 O frutefuU Garden flo wring, where appear e 
 
 The Rofe and Lilly, at all times of yeare. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Rich is the Diamond, a iemme of prife 
 
 Yet fuch the nature ftrange'is of the fame, 
 
 That who the powder thereof drinkes, ftraight dies. 
 
 And as (if poyfon twere) doth take his bane : 
 
 So thou another precious iewell art. 
 
 In name and nature not vnmuch alike, 
 
 Since death thou giu'ft vnto the louing hart ; 
 
 If but a kiife one fuckes from thee moft fweete, 
 
 Whilft he doth fwallow downe this fugred baite, 
 The ioy's fo great, it kills him through concaite. 
 
 XXL 
 
 The Grecians vfde to oiler vp their haire 
 Vnto their Riuers, whom they did efteeme 
 
xxxvi Introduction. 
 
 As mightie Gods, and them great honor bare, 
 As if no vertue fmall in them had been : 
 
 Doo thou the like (fweet Laura) vnto race, 
 Who for my loue deferue a greater fee. 
 Thy golden treifes on me doo beftow, 
 Who hold whole Riuers flowing in mine eyes : 
 Yet would not I thou off fliouldft cut them tho. 
 Dooft mufe, and aske how this thou maift deuife? 
 lie tell thee : Giue thy felfe to mee for mine, 
 So flialt thou giue vncut thy trefles fine. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 One louely glaunce which from the eyes did paiTe 
 Of Ladie mine, hath changd my gentle hart 
 From hardeft Diamond to brittle glalfe : 
 And now againe (vnto my bitter fmart 
 Through dreadful! frowne) flie tumes it fuddenly 
 As twas before, from glaffe to Dianiond. 
 So if flie will flie may, (and prefently 
 As likes her) change me, who to her am bound : 
 If cruell Ihee, my hart is hard to breake : 
 If pittifuU, tis gentle, brittle, weake. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 The Crow makes war with the Cameleon, 
 And being hurt to th' Laurell ftraight doth flie. 
 And through the frute he findeth thereupon 
 Is heald of hurt, findes food, and lines thereby. 
 Loue the Cameleon is, the Crow am I, 
 And battell wage with him vnto the death : 
 He wounds me deadly, whereupon I hie 
 To thee (my Laurall) to reflore my breath. 
 Thou me reuiu'ft, fuch vertue's in thee rife. 
 As thou at once dooft giue me food and life. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 If loue (wherein I burne) were but a fire, 
 I quencht it had with water of my teares ; 
 If water, thefe my plaints, I this Defire 
 Had dryde through inward heate, my hart that taints : 
 But Loue that in my griefes doth take delight, 
 Both fire and water turnes to worke mee fpite. 
 Flie then this Loue, fmce fuch is his great power, 
 As waues to fire, and fire to waues he turnes. 
 And with an abfent Beautie euerie hower. 
 My fainting hart with Fancie's fuell bumes. 
 
Introduction. xxxvii 
 
 And gainft all fenfe makes mee of CARE and II, 
 More then of good and ComfoRT to haue will. 
 
 XXXIIII. 
 
 Riuers vnto the Sea doo tribute pay : 
 
 A moft vnconftant moouing Sea art thou, 
 
 And I within mine eyes (bedeawed ay) 
 
 A Riuer hold of bitter teares as now. 
 
 Receiue then from thefe moyftned cheekes of mine 
 
 Into thy lap the water I foorth powre, 
 
 Of dutie mine and of thy Debt a figne : 
 
 And mixt together with my fweet thy fowre, 
 So (hall the water to the water bee 
 More precious, and the Sea more rich to th' Sea , 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Such is the vertue of the Sunnie heate 
 As feazing on the cockle (hell, which lies 
 On feaifli* fiiore, whereon his beames doo beate 
 It makes it brightly thine, in orient wife ; 
 
 So that through fecret power of radiant Sunne, 
 
 Of worthleife fliell, a Pearle it doth become. 
 So Ladie, you through force of Beautie's power, 
 If you ftiall deigne to glaunce on me your eye, 
 And raine with grace on me a fmiling Ihower, 
 A lewell rich you make me by and by : 
 
 And if no Pearle, at leaft a precious Stone ; 
 
 This (onely) can you doo, or els can none. 
 
 The Conclufion of the fecond Part. 
 
 This is the fecond Courfe now ferued in, 
 A Courfe too courfe for fuch a daintie Dame ; 
 Yet (Ladie) though the cheere be bad and thin, 
 Becaufe it comes of Zeale, accept the fame : 
 
 And though not worthy of your grace it bee, 
 
 Yet make it gracious through your curtene. 
 Great fumptuous Feaits the flomacke doth diflike. 
 Which oft in bodie dangerous furfets breed : 
 Where diihes few reuiue our fenfe and fpright, 
 And Nature's pleaf'd on little for to feed. 
 
 This as a fawce (your appetite to moue) 
 
 Accept, where meate's the HaRT, where Cooke is Loue. 
 
 Nor thinke the worfe, though I haue fpun a thread 
 So fine (I meane your praife) I cannot mend, 
 
 * Probably a word of Tofte's own coinage. 
 
xxxviii Introduction. 
 
 Since tis a worke to ground* the wifeft Had, 
 And marre I ihould this loome, the-Cloth not mend : 
 So Venus matchleffe ihape Apelles drew, 
 But how to finiih it he neuer knew. 
 Farre more's my minde, than is my feeble might, 
 My penfill for thy pifture is too weake : 
 The Sunne is onely for the Eagle's fight. 
 My ftrength's too fmall, this hardned yce to breake. 
 Not painted fcarce I thee haue fliadowed here : 
 This taske's for fuch as haue in skill no peere. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 From 'The Third Part.' 
 III. 
 The flaming Torch (a fliadow of the light) 
 Put out by haftie hand, doth colour change. 
 And blacke becomes, which feemd before moll bright : 
 Nor fo to (how is anie meruaile ftrange ; 
 So was I long a liuely fire of loue. 
 The heate whereof my Bodie oft did proue. 
 But I, at laft (by one who moand my woe) 
 Extinguiftit was, by PitifuU Difdaiiie : 
 Then if my colour blacke in face doo fliow. 
 You need not much to wonder at the fame, 
 
 Since tis a Signe (by part to know the whole) 
 That Loue made me a Fire, Difdaine a Cole. 
 
 VII. 
 When She was borne, fhe came with fmiing eye 
 Laughing into the world, a figne of glee ; 
 When I was borne (to her quite contrarie) 
 Wayling I came into the world to fee. 
 
 Then marke this wonder ftrange : what Nature gaue 
 From firft to th' laft this faftiion kept we liaue. 
 She in my fad laments doth take great ioy, 
 I through her laughing die, and languifli muft, 
 Vnleffe that Loue (to faue me from this noy) 
 Doo vnto mee (vnworthy) (hew fo iuft 
 
 As for to change her laughter into paine. 
 And my complaints into her ioy againe. 
 
 VIIL 
 In Loue his Kingdome great, two Fooles there bee ; 
 My Ladle's one, my felfe the other am : 
 The fond behauiour of both which to fee, 
 
 * = to bring to the ground (cf., to gravel, and the Italian alterare). 
 
Introduction. xxxix 
 
 Who fo but nicely markes, will fay the fame : 
 
 Foolifli our thoughts are, foolilh our defire, 
 
 Fooliih our harts in Fancie's flame to frie, 
 
 Foolilh to burne in Loue's hot fcortching fire. 
 
 But what ? Fooles are we none, my tung doth lie : 
 For who moft foolilh is and fond in loue. 
 More wifer farre than others, oft doth proue. 
 XII. 
 
 loy of my foule, my blindfold eyes cleere light, 
 
 Cordiall of hart, right Methridate of loue, 
 
 Faire orient Pearle, bright ihining Margarite, 
 
 Pure Quinteffence of heauens delight aboue. 
 
 When fliall I tafte what fauour graunts me tuch, 
 
 And eafe the rage of mine fo Iharpe defire ? 
 
 ■^Tien fliall I free enioy what I fo much, 
 
 Doo couet, (but I doubt in vaine) to afpire ? 
 Ah doo not ftill my foule thus Tantalize, 
 But once (through grace) the fame imparadize. 
 XIII. 
 
 Painter, in liuely colours draw Difdaine. 
 
 Dooft; aske how that may rightly (hadowed bee ? 
 
 He tell thee, if thou (fine) wilt doo the fame 
 
 My Ladie paint, and then Difdaine (halt fee. 
 
 Fond man doft not beleeue ? or thinkft I ieft ? 
 If doubtful! thou remaine, then heare the reft. 
 
 Marke her but well, and thou ftialt in her face 
 
 See right Difdaine, which comming from her eyes. 
 
 Makes her to looke with moft difdainfull grace : 
 
 Then if thou feeft it in fo plaine a guife. 
 
 Straight ftiadow her : for this one Counterfaite 
 Of her and of Difdaine fliall fliow the ftiape. 
 
 XIIII. 
 
 With gold and rubies gliftereth her fmall hand : 
 
 But if you match them with her lips or haire. 
 
 They feeme withouten brightnes [for] to ftand. 
 
 The other haue fuch liuely colours faire. 
 
 O worthie Beautie, peerleife A Per Se, 
 
 To whom all other Beauties are moft vile. 
 
 O fairnes fuch, as fairer none can bee, 
 
 Thou Grace it felfe of gracioufnes dooft fpoyle. 
 
 With Rubies, thou right Rubies dooft difgrace, 
 With Gold bright Gold thou ftaineft in his place. 
 XIX. 
 
 That luorie hand a Fanne moft white doth hold. 
 
 And to the milkie Breft blowes winde apace : 
 
xl Introduction. 
 
 (And yet is fiiU of chilly yce moft cold) 
 Difgrace to others, to her felfe a grace. 
 
 But I who wiftly marke thefe whitenes three, 
 Vouchfafe (fweet loue) this boone to graunt to mee. 
 Diftill within the rouling of mine eyes 
 (By vertue of thy power) fuch hidden flame : 
 And let it tempred be in fuch ftrange wife, 
 That I as I caft my looke vpon the fame, 
 It quite may take away her crueltie. 
 Melt ftraight the Ice, and Fanne bume fuddenly. 
 
 XXVI. 
 The Heauens begin with thunder for to breake 
 The troubled Aire, and to the coloured Fields 
 The Lightning for to fpoyle their pride dooth threat. 
 Each thing vnto the furious Tempeft yeelds. 
 And yet me thinkes within mee I doo heare 
 A gentle voyce hard at my hart to fay, 
 Feare nothing thou, but be of merrie cheere. 
 Thou onely fafe fore others all (halt flay : 
 
 To faue thee from all hurt, thy Shield fliall bee, 
 The ftiadow of the conquering Lawrall Tree. 
 
 Fano. 
 XXVIII. 
 My Miftres (writing) as her hand did fhake 
 The Pen did daih, which on her gowne did fpurt : 
 One drop more higher than the reft did take, 
 And to prefume to touch her Breft it durft. 
 Vpon her daintie bofome it did light, 
 Wherewith (he bluiht, in (how like damaike Rofe : 
 Prefumptuous Blacke, how dar'dft thou touch that White, 
 Wherein a world of gladfome pleafure growes ? 
 Yet (fpite of enuie) hapt it for the beft. 
 To the white more grace, more bewtie to th' breft. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Vnbare that luorie hand, hide it no more. 
 
 For though it death brings to my tender hart, 
 
 To fee it naked, where is beautie's ftore. 
 
 And where moyft Pearle with Azure doth impart : 
 
 Yet feare I not to dye in this fweet wife. 
 
 My fancie fo to fee't, is fet on fire : 
 
 Then leaue that Gloue, moft hatefiill to mine eyes. 
 
 And let me furfet with this kinde Defire ; 
 
 So that my lookes may haue of them their fill. 
 Though hart decay, He take it for none ill. 
 
 Mantoa, 
 
Introduction. xli 
 
 XXXV. 
 When I of my fweet Laura leaue did take, 
 Fairs Fano's Cittie for a while to leaue : 
 Shee gaue to mee (to weare it for her fake) 
 Of golde and pearle a daintie wouen Wreathe. 
 
 Deere was the gift, becaufe for loue it came : 
 
 But deerey more, caufe Shee gaue me the fame. 
 I looke on't ftill, and kiife it as my ioy ; 
 Kifsing and bufsing it, with it I play : 
 Which at one inflant brings me mirth and noy. 
 And fighing oft, thus to my felfe I fay ; 
 
 White pearl es are thefe, yet hath her mouth more faire ; 
 
 Fine gold is this, yet finer is her haire. 
 
 Fano. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The hapleffe Argus (happie in this fame) 
 
 The glorie of the Sunne's furpafsing light. 
 
 The brightnes of the Starres (the fire which flaine) 
 
 With hundred eyes behold them alwayes might. 
 
 But I (alas) who haue but onely twaine. 
 
 Cannot behold the Beautie of my .Sunne : 
 
 For which I line as blinde in endleffe paine, 
 
 And count my felfe for want thereof vndone. 
 I can but with that I an Argus were. 
 With hundred eyes to view her euerie where. * 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 In vaftie Sea, faine would my flender Mufe 
 Wade in thy praife, to praife thy beautie right : 
 But (Ladie) I for pardon craue excufe. 
 To breake fuch waues too brittle is her might ; 
 
 Meane time with lowly verfe, in humble fhow, 
 
 Along the ihallow ihoare He wading goe. 
 The time may come (perhaps) ere it be long. 
 That this my quill more bold may write thy praife. 
 And venter for to fayle in th' Ocean ftrong, 
 Though now on graueld ihore it fearfuU flaies. 
 
 And where as now to dip his foote he feares. 
 
 He then fhall diue hirafelfe ore head and eares. 
 
 Fano. 
 
 XL. 
 
 When I did part, my foule did part from mee. 
 And tooke his farewell of thy beauteous Eyne : 
 
 ' Reminiscence of the epigram ascribed to Plato. 
 
xlii Introduction. 
 
 But now that I (returned) doo thee fee, 
 He is returnd, and Hues through kindnes thine, 
 And of thee looketh for a welcome home. 
 I then not anie more to forrow need, 
 Now I am come : and if before alone 
 On (hadow then, on fubftance now I feed. 
 So, if my parting bitter was and fad, 
 Sweete's my retume to thee, and pafsing glad. 
 
 The Conclufion of the laft Part. 
 
 Timantes, when he faw he could not paint 
 With liuely colours (to his lafting fame) 
 Such workes he tooke in hand, and found too faint. 
 His cunning, feeking for to hide the fame. 
 He ouer them a fubtill fliadow drew : 
 So that his faults, or none or few could view. 
 So Ladie, I finding my wit too weake. 
 With currant tearmes your beautie foorth to blaze. 
 And that to arriue too blunt is my conceit 
 Vnto the height of your furmounting praife : 
 With filence forced am (againft my will) 
 To fliadow my defecft, (the want of fkill). 
 
 Yet doo I hope, the ihadow you'l not fcome. 
 Since Princes in their flately Arbors greene 
 Account of fliade, as trees which frute adorae, 
 Becaufe from heate they welcome flielters been. 
 
 The Shadow fliields gainft Sunne your beautie faire, 
 Which elfe his fcortching heate would much impaire. 
 Then though a Shadow without frute I bee. 
 And fcarce yeeld leaues to couer this my barke : 
 Accept thefe leaues thy Beautie's Shade of mee. 
 Where wealth doth ebbe, good will doth flow firom Hart. 
 Deigne me for all my loue but Shadow thine. 
 Thy Subflance's too too high for Fortune mine. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 A Frends iuft excufe about the Booke 
 and Author, in his abfence. 
 Without the Author's knowledge, as is before faid by the Printer, 
 this Poeme is made thus publiquely knowen : which (with my beft 
 indeuour) the Gentleman himfelfe (fufpeiting what is now prooued 
 too true) at my coming vp, earneftly intreated me to preuent. But 
 I came at the laft flieetes printing, and finde more than thirtie 
 Sonnets not his, intermixt with his : helpt it canot be but by 
 the wel iudging Reader, who will with leffe paine diftinguifh 
 betweene them, than I on this fodaine pofsibly can. To him then 
 
Introduction. xliil 
 
 I referre that labour, and for the Printer's faults paft in fome 
 of the Bookes, I haue gathered them in the next page. With 
 the Author beare I pray ye whom I muft intreat to beare with mee. 
 
 R. B. 
 
 A blank leaf follows but not the promised errata. 
 
 The motto of ' Laura ' on the title-page is from Dante 
 (Paradiso, i, 34); but Tofte's style is formed not on Dante, 
 but on the writers of his own day, with frequent turnings 
 and returnings to Serafino. I suspect that both in Laura 
 and Alba several of the pieces are translations from the 
 Italian. This I name, not as blaming Tofte ; for even 
 Spenser used to translate without acknowledgment. 
 
 Besides these fuller quotations, the following incidentally 
 musical and happy lines and words, that occur in ' Laura,' it 
 is deemed expedient to preserve : 
 
 " A iuft reward for fucb an high afpire." (Ft. i. viii.) 
 
 " angrie luno from the Scowling Skies 
 
 Thiche fwinging flurwers did downward fend amaine." (ib. xiii.) 
 
 " Of this vnftedfaftnes and watrie brine 
 
 Lets falhion both of vs a nouell Sea, 
 
 So heauen the hauen, and loue the bay flialbee." {ib, xviii. ) 
 "Thus (Loue) thou feeft is changed my eftate, 
 
 She checkes with death, that fore gaue life for mate." 
 
 Venice, {ib. xxi.) 
 " The warlike Goddeife wrath in humble wife." (ib. xxiii.) 
 
 " Thou, merry laughft, and pleafantly doft fmile, 
 I wofuU weepe, and (meftfuU) forrow ftill." {ib. xxxii.) 
 
 " Giue me that colour which fo likes mine eine, 
 If death, then biacke, if life, then Camatine." {ib. xxxiii.) 
 
 " Take heed you Louers all of her, and feare 
 The fugred baites of this deceitfuU trull." {ib. xl.) 
 
 " The flower of Greece Dan Paris coftly ioy 
 Through her faire feature the onely caufer was 
 So manie Knights were flaine at Sledge of Troy.'' (Ft. ii. iii). 
 
 "Thofe fauerie fmackes, Ihofe buffes fweet which bee." (ih. xxv.) 
 
 "No bodie now, for that by proud difdaine 
 
 Of fcornfuU Shee, difliu'd was." (ih. xxvi.) 
 
 "Then Cupid worke that I (poore Snake in loue) 
 
 This fdainfull Snake for to be kinde may moue." (ib., xx). 
 
xliv Introduction, 
 
 From the ' whiteness ' of the skin, and especially of the 
 hand, of Laura, came I suppose the first title of his next 
 volume, viz., Alba. (Cf, however, Alba, p. 48, st. 4, 1. 1.) 
 This over and over recurring 'whiteness' makes it certain 
 that Sonnet xxxi of Part 3 was of the " more than thirtie 
 intermixt," and it may here find a place as fairly typical 
 of the others : 
 
 "My Miftres feemes but brovvne ((ay you) to mee. 
 
 Tis verie true, and I confefle the fame : 
 
 Yet loue I her, although that browne the bee, 
 
 Becaufe to pleafe me (he is glad and fame. 
 I loued one moft BeautifuU before. 
 Whom now (as Death) I deadly doo abhorre. 
 
 Becaufe to fcorne my feruice her I found, 
 I gaue her ore, and chofe to mee this fame ; 
 Nor to be faithfuU (thinke I) I am bound 
 To one in whom no kindnes doth remaine : 
 This is the caufe, for Browne and Pittifull, 
 I left a faire, but yet a faithleffe Trull." 
 
 It will have been noticed that R. T. signs the introductory 
 Epistle-dedicatory to Lucy, sister of Henry Earl of North- 
 umberland. So that the alleged surreptitious publication 
 may have! been a mere ruse, as Mr. Collier suggests. One 
 would have been pleased to know the link of connexion 
 with the ' Lady Lucy.' She married first. Sir John Wotton, 
 Knt., secondly Sir Hugh Owen of Anglesey, Knt., — and 
 died without issue. She was daughter of Henry eighth 
 Earl of Northumberland, by Catherine, eldest daughter and 
 co-heir of John (Neville) Lord Latimer. From the wording 
 of the Epistle it would appear she had endured ' trials ' of 
 no ordinary sort prior to her marriage. 
 
 The verse-Epistle, "Alia bellifsima fua Jignora E.C." 
 seems to point to a Euphemia (as Hazlitt fills in) or Eliza- 
 beth C[areill] or Carill, or Caryll (as before). 
 
 We are now brought to our present reproduction of 'Alba. 
 The Months Minde of a Melancholy Louer.' The Poet 
 had semi-promised that if Laura were well received by her 
 he might undertake a greater venture of verse-celebration ; 
 
Introduction. xlv 
 
 and I suppose Alba is to be held for fulfilment. Perchance 
 he dropped Laura for title of his second book as conscious 
 how distant at nearest must be his following of Petrarch 
 and his immortal Laura. Be this as it may, Alba as=white 
 was a fit synonym for spotless perfect beauty. 'Month's 
 Mind' is properly a celebration in remembrance of dead 
 persons, a month after their decease (Nares, s.v., where 
 are full examples); but Tofte seems to mean by it, not a 
 dirge for the dead, but a lamentation or series of lamenta- 
 tions in sorrow for the living. By his title, therefore, he 
 signified that he had in his poem put into verse the thought 
 and emotion that had passed through his ' Minde ' from 
 month to month, as in address to ' Anne Heme ' : 
 
 "Once I each Monthe to cruel Alba make 
 A Month's Mind, yet no pittie she doth take." . (p. 3.) 
 
 As with Laura, there is a preliminary verse-dedication 
 to another 'faire lady'— Anne Heme, and from the re- 
 lated poems to members of the family of Brooke, she must 
 have been a Brooke — albeit 1 have failed to get any 
 particulars of this family. He dedicates his Honours 
 Academie to the same 'Anne Heme.' He must have been 
 somewhat changeful in his feminine praises : For whereas in 
 Alba {verso of title) the 'Margarite' stanza is applied to 
 Alba, it is found doing service in the same year to Lady 
 Margaret Morgan, wife of Sir John Morgan of Chilworth, 
 Surrey (in Orlando hiainorato, 1598). Is the explanation 
 that into ' Laura ' and ' Alba ' alike, he worked in all his 
 verses to whomsoever addressed .'' Je Vignore. 
 
 The preliminary commendatory verses to Alba are not of 
 much weight or grace ; but, as noted before, that by Richard 
 Day, son of Bishop William Day, is biographically to be 
 re-called in relation to the Will. 
 
 Coming to Alba itself, the main interest of it centres in 
 two things, viz. {a) The incidental allusion to a performance 
 of Love's Labour Lost ; (b) A charming couplet, worthy of 
 Robert Greene. 
 
 G 
 
xlvi Introduction. 
 
 The former must here be placed before the Shaksperean 
 student : 
 
 " Loves Labor Lost, I once did fee a Play, 
 Ycleped fo, fo called to my paine. 
 Which I to heare to my fmall loy did flay, 
 Giuing attendance on my froward Dame, 
 My mifgiuing minde prefaging to me 111, 
 Yet was I drawne to fee it gainft my Will. 
 
 This Play no Play, but Plague was vnto me, 
 
 Foi- there I loft the Loue 1 liked moft : 
 
 And what to others feemde a left to be, 
 
 I, that (in earneft) fovmd vnto my coft, 
 To euery one (faue me) twas Comicall, 
 Whilft Tragick like to me it did befall. 
 
 Each A<5lor plaid in cunning wife his part, 
 
 But chiefly Thofe entrapt in Cupids fnare : 
 
 Yet all was fained, twas not from the hart, 
 
 They feemde to grieue, but yet they felt no care : 
 Twas I that Griefe (indeed) did beare in breft, 
 The others did but make a fliow in left. 
 
 (p. 105, St. 1 to 3.) 
 
 The student will do well to study Shakespeare's play in 
 the light of this reference of Tofte. There is the adjective 
 'whitely' in Laura, and 'envious frost' (p. 94 oi Alba), 
 recalling Biron, " like an envious sneaping frost "; but closer 
 examination would doubtless yield other words and things. 
 
 The latter, is this, spite of its imperfect rhyme : 
 
 "Loue's prifoner then, begging at Beautie's gate 
 Some Almes beftowe fweet Ladie for God's fake. 
 
 But while these are the notabilia of the poem, I am much 
 mistaken if, regarded as a whole, Robert Tofte's Alha, 
 for its ' smoothness ' and musical flow and iridiscent fancies 
 or conceits, do not make its way into after-Anthologies of our 
 ' sweet Singers.' I venture to bring together things that in 
 some element or other — sometimes scarcely communicable 
 — have arrested myself. I begin at the beginning, and so 
 pass forward — giving headings for each quotation. 
 I. A ' slaine heart's ' memorial. 
 
 "vnto whom fliall I (now) dedicate 
 
 This meftfull verfe, this moumfuU Elegie ? 
 
Introduction. xlvii 
 
 Euen to my cruel Miftreffe Covnterfaite, 
 
 Of Beauties (hape, the right Eternitie. 
 
 Then to her Pictvre I prefent this verfe, 
 
 Of my flaine Hart (dead for pure loue) the Herfe." 
 
 (p. 17, St. 3.) 
 
 2. All-in-all. 
 
 " Thou art my Hope, my Hauen, my comfort chiefe, 
 On thee alone, on none els I relie : 
 Only to thee I come to begge reliefe ; 
 In thee it is if I fliall Hue or die. 
 
 (Dearest) remember tis a Gift more rare, 
 Constant to be, then to be counted Faire," 
 
 (p. 19, St. 4.) 
 
 3. A Portrait. 
 
 " Two fparkling ftars, fine golde, pure Ebonie, 
 From whence Loue takes his Brands, his Shafts & Bow, 
 Two daintie Apples, which though hid from eye. 
 Through vaile of Lawne, through lawne more faire do fhow : 
 A cherrie lip with luorie teeth moft white. 
 Where Cupid begs within that Grate fo bright. 
 
 Vermilion Flowers that grow in Heauen aboue ; 
 
 Snow, which no wet can marre, nor Sunne can melt, 
 
 Right Margarite Pearle which alwaies Orient proue, 
 
 A Voyce, that Hart of marble makes to fwelt, 
 A Smile that calmes the raging of the Sea, 
 And Skie more cleere makes then was wont to bee. 
 
 Graue, flaied wifdome in yong and tender yeares, 
 
 A flately Gate, and Port maiefticall, 
 
 A Carriage (where in vertue (borne) appeares, 
 
 Lookes that difdaine, and yet delight withall. 
 Numbers of Fauours, Beauties infinite. 
 With Modeflie, chafte, pure, and milde Delight. 
 
 An humble Soule within a Bodie rich, 
 A lowly Thought within a conquering Hart : 
 Thefe are the workes which I commend lo mich 
 Which Heauens & Love haue framde by curious Art ; 
 All thefe I once enioyde : but they being gone. 
 My Note is changde, my Mirth is turnde to Mone.'' 
 
 (p. 20, St. I to 4. ) 
 
 4. Too-high aspiration. 
 " Too well I know (and I confeffe the fame) 
 That too too loftie is my proud Defire : 
 My foaring Thoughts, deferuing mickle blame, 
 
xlviii Introduction. 
 
 And I, ore bold, prefume too high t'afpire : 
 
 Yet ftill (me thinkes) mine Ayme, being not bafe, 
 
 I (hould deferue fome little tynie Grace." (p. 21, st. 2.) 
 
 5. Yearning in Absence. 
 " Ah had not Reafon my Defires refrainde, 
 I had, my Thoughts deare Soueraigne, feene ere this, 
 Whofe Grace I fought (but booties) to haue gainde, 
 The only ioy I in this world would wifli. 
 
 Rather would I fee thofe chafte beautious Eyes, 
 
 Then chufe to be in matchlefife Paradife." (p. 21, st. 4.) 
 
 6. Alternations. 
 " My hart is grieu'd caufe it doth difagree : 
 For whilfl; my Minde to loue her doth deuife, 
 And thinks her worthie honored for to bee, 
 A SdainfuU thought through Hatred doth arife, 
 
 Which skornes y' one fo rich, a Theefe Ihuld proue, 
 That one fo Faire, a MurthereJfe is in loue." 
 
 (p. 22, St. 2.) 
 
 7. Brilliant Beauty. 
 "For whilst he glues his minde attentiuely. 
 And ftudieth to match Nature with his Art, 
 Marking her Feature with a watchfuU eye. 
 To portray forth moft liuely every part : 
 
 Such brightnes comes from her, fuch gliftring rayes, 
 As he's ftruck blinde, and darkned goes his wayes." 
 
 (p. 23, St. 2.) 
 8. A young mother — portents. 
 " Bright were the Heauens, and huflit was euery winde, 
 Cleere was the day, when as mine Alba faire, 
 Brought forth with ioy (Lucina being kinde) 
 A daintie Babe, for feature paffing rare. 
 
 Adorning all the world with this glad welth, 
 A gift t'enrich the World, Vs, and her felt 
 
 What time flie was in trauell of this Childe, 
 No thunder, lightning, nor no ftorme was heard : 
 But all was quiet, peaceful!, calme and milde, 
 As if the skies t'offend her were afeared, 
 
 Whilft th'earth attended on her, and the Sea, 
 As though they ftaid at her command to be. 
 
 Then did the Windes (not vfmg fo before) 
 
 A gentle gale blow calmely euery where. 
 
 And fild the blisfuU Aire with fweetes great ftore : 
 
 Each bird and fowle (hewing a merry cheere. 
 
Introduction. xl 
 
 IX 
 
 Whilft that bleft Day a double Beautie found, 
 One from the Sunne, the other here on ground." 
 
 (p. 24, St. I to 3.) 
 
 9. Castle in the Air. 
 " My mounting Minde, my neuer ftaide Conceit 
 Hath built a ftately Caftle in the Aire : 
 Which loue his lightning Fire, nor his fierce thret, 
 Nor Fate, nor Fortune, nor ought elfe doth feare. 
 Founded it is vpon two running Wheeles, 
 The Gates of duft and winde (ftill turning reeles. ) 
 
 Thoufands of Motes are digd about the fame, 
 Which are capritious Humors fond and Toyes : 
 The Skouts and Guards thereof, Hopes dead and vaine ; 
 The Food therein preparde, falfe fleeting loyes ; 
 The fencing Walles are framde of fierce Defire, 
 Which dreads nor Seas, nor earth, nor force, nor fire. 
 
 The Armours, framed are in running Head, 
 Of fooliih Boldnes, and of penfiue Feare, 
 Wliich None knowes how they fliould be managed. 
 Nor how the fame gainft others right to beare : 
 The Shot, Munition, and Artillerie, 
 Are diuers Thoughts which in the Fancie lie. 
 
 The Caflellane doth fight againfl himfelfe, 
 Hauing nought els his fouldiers for to pay. 
 But with Ambition which is all his wealth : 
 ludge then my ftate, and mark my firmeft ftay. 
 
 O Love how long learne (hall I in thy Schoole ? 
 The more I learne, I (ftill) doe proue more Foole." 
 
 (p. 26, St. I to 4.) 
 10. The Skies. 
 " Swift roling Spheares, cleere burning Lamps diuine, 
 That with your beames difgrace the glorious Sunne : 
 Faire ladders by which I to Heauen clime, 
 And by your Influence this rare courfe doe runne. 
 Ah, if not quickly hither you retume. 
 Too late (in vaine) my lofle you then ftiall mourne." 
 
 (p. 27, St. I.) 
 II*. Love's Food. 
 " Feeding my felfe (now you from hence are gone) 
 With fweet Remembrance of fore pafled loy." (st. 3, 11. 3 and4)_ 
 
 II. Love's Rage. 
 " Sad Teares, that from my meftfuU Hart doe runne, 
 Thruft forth through watrie Eyes by Sorrow kinde : 
 
Introduction. 
 
 If you into Loves paths by chance fliall come, 
 Where he doth walke, and pitie thinke to finde ; 
 In vaine then doe you ftirre abrode, in vaine 
 You lofe your trauaile, labour and your paine. 
 
 For whilft the way vnto an Humour new 
 
 You open wide, fierce Alba thutteth clofe 
 
 Her breaft from mercie, making me to rew, 
 
 And for your Friendihip, counts you as her foes : 
 Wherein, ftie doth a damd Example Ihow, 
 Forcing her Hart gainft Confcience here to goe. 
 
 Then wofull teares what will you doe as now ? 
 Love's dead and gone, all pitie is exilde : 
 Skornd is my Conftancie and loyall Vow, 
 And through Difdaine I daily am reuilde, 
 
 My Hopes are blafted, and as withered feeme, 
 Whilft ftill Difgraces fliew before me greene. 
 
 (p. 29, St, I to 3.) 
 12. Another Portrait. 
 " Thy whitenes (Alba) I may well compare 
 To Delia, when no clowde doth her obfcure : 
 Thy haires to Phcebus lightning in the Aire, 
 When he doth Ihine with greater Lufter pure. 
 Thy diamond eyes, like a froftie Night, 
 Where fparkling ftaj-s doe ihooting take their flight. 
 
 Thy cheekes Aurora like, when with her Dew, 
 The Rofe and Lillie the doth fprinkle fweete ; 
 Refembling drops that feeded Pearle doe fliew, 
 As if that double Beautie did them greete. 
 
 Thy Hand, no hand, it is the daintie Gloue, 
 Which Pfyches ware, when ihe was wed to Love." 
 
 (p. 31, St. I and 2.) 
 13. Sleep and Dreams. 
 " Come gentle Ileepe (fweet fleepe) my welcome Frend, 
 Come comfort me with fliadow of my Loue, 
 And her, in vifion quickly to me fend. 
 For whom thefe griefes and bitter pangs I proue. 
 Black Night be thou far darker then thou art. 
 Thy chifeft Beautie is to be moil darke. 
 
 By thee my peace and pleafure doth arife, 
 Whilft J through thy deceit (yet liking me) 
 Doe feeme to ioy with her in lonely wife, 
 Although from hence (God knowes) far off ihe be. 
 
 Such is the pleafure that herein I take. 
 
 As more I could not ioy, were I awake. 
 
Introduction. H 
 
 Thou fliewft to me the trammels of her Haire, 
 
 Clept ScALA COELI, locks of pure Delight : 
 
 Her fnowy Neck, the caufe of my fweete Care ; 
 
 Her eyes like Saphires fparkling in the night : 
 "With other fights, vnfeemly to be knowne : 
 Al thefe fweet fleep, through thee to me are fliowne." 
 
 (p. 33, St. I to 3.) 
 
 14. Love-Warnings. 
 
 " Alba thinkft thou, thy Mouth thall flill be May, 
 
 And that thy Colour frefli, ftill faire will be ? 
 
 That Time and Fortune will not weare away 
 
 Beautie, which God and Nature lends to thee ? 
 
 Yes, yes, that white and red, thy Cheekes now fliow, 
 Shall quicklie change, and blacke and yellow grow. 
 
 The Giniper the longer it doth flower, 
 The older ftill it waxeth, bowing ftill, 
 And that fweete face of thine, which now hath power 
 Whole worlds with wondering at the fame to fill, 
 Shall (though it now fauns blemiih be) a Staine, 
 Hereafter with thicke wrinckeled Clifts remaine. 
 
 Great care to keepe this Beautie fraile muft be. 
 
 Which we (God knowes) a fmall time doe enioy, 
 
 Doe what we can, we lofe it fuddenle ; 
 
 Why, then, being courted Ihouldfl; thou feeme fo coy, 
 Fortunes wings made of Times feathers neere ftay, 
 But eare thou them canft meafure, flit away. 
 
 Then be not ouer hard, like changeles Fate, 
 
 But let my Cries force thee (at laft) relent. 
 
 Doe not oppofe thy felfe too obftinate 
 
 Gainft him, whofe time to honor thee is fpent : 
 
 Ah let me fpeake the trueth (though fomewhat bold) 
 Though now th'art yong, thou one day mufl; be old. 
 
 (p. 38, St. I to 4). 
 
 15. Despair. 
 " Teares I did flied, but teares I flied in vaine ; 
 Vowes I did make, my Vowes flie did reiedV ; 
 Prayers I offred, Prayers flie did difdaiue ; 
 Prefents I fent, but them fli' would not accept. 
 
 If teares, vowes, prayers, nor prefents can doe good. 
 What then remaines, but for to ofier blood ? " 
 
 (p. 41, St. 2.) 
 
 16. Swift Doom. 
 " A kinde of Pltie tis, quickly to kill." (p. 41, st. 4.) 
 
Hi Introduction. 
 
 17. Memories. 
 " The fweet remembrance of thy fight of yore, 
 Th' only companion is of my deare life, 
 Thy prefence was, which abfent I adore, 
 My paradile and place of ioy moft rife. 
 
 So I alone am not, though None's with mee. 
 And was in Heauen, when I thy face did fee." 
 
 (p. 43, St. 3.) 
 
 18. All Nature invoked. 
 " Ye valleys deep withouten bottome found ; 
 Ye Hils that match with height the azure skie ; 
 Ye Caues by Nature hollow vnder ground, 
 Where quiet reft and filence alwaies lie, 
 
 Thou gloomy Aire which euer to the fight 
 Bringft darknes ftill, but neuer cheerful! light. 
 
 Ye vncouth Paths, ye folitarie walks. 
 Ye breackneck Rocks, mofb ghaftlie for to fee. 
 Ye dreadfuU Dens where neuer any (talks. 
 And where fcarce hiifing Serpents dare to bee : 
 Ye fatall Vaults where murdred Corfes lie, 
 Haunted with hateful! fprites continuallie. 
 
 Ye Wildemeffes and ye Deferts wilde. 
 
 Ye ftrangie Shores nere yet inhabited. 
 
 Ye Places from all pleafures quite exilde. 
 
 Where fad Melancholy and Griefe is fled, 
 
 Heare me, who am a ftiadow and a Ghoft, 
 Damd with eternal! forrow to be croft. 
 
 Hear me, fince I am come for to bewaile, 
 Mongft you, my Faith, my Conftancie, and Loue, 
 I hope with my lowd Cries and drerie Tale, 
 Though not the Heauens, yet Hell at leaft to moue : 
 Since more the Griefes are which within me grow, 
 Then Heauen hath pleafures, or He!, Plagues below. 
 
 (p. 44, St. I to 4.) 
 
 19. The Alps. 
 " My ioyles Hart a troubled Spring is like, 
 Which from the tops of matchles Alpes moft hie, 
 Falls with a mightie noife downe headlong right, 
 By vncouth ftony wayes moft dreadfully. 
 
 Where all his Hopes he in the Deepe doth drowne ; 
 A fatall figne of fortunes heauie frowne. 
 
 Darke pitchie clowdes of hugie Mouutaines fteepe, 
 The loftieft part do hide from Sunny heate : 
 
Introduction. liii 
 
 Seeld any winde of Pitie there doth fleete, 
 
 Them to diffolue, their thicknes is fo great. 
 
 For no calme Aire of gentle Loue doth blow, 
 Where fwelling Anger frets in furious Ihow. 
 
 Thence doth my Tributarie Hart forth fend 
 Through peable ftones, now here, now there along, 
 A little Brooke into the Sea to wend, 
 As figne that I ray dulie would not wrong : 
 
 For Alba mine, (Degree aboue Compare) 
 
 A large Sea is of fundrie Beauties rare. 
 
 (p. 46, St. I to 3.) 
 
 20. Smallest Grace. 
 
 " And yet my fute is fmall, fmall is the Grace 
 
 That I defire, (for fomewhat I deferue) 
 
 Tis only for to die before her face, 
 
 From whom in Dutie (yet) I nere did fwerue : 
 That flie might know my life dolh me annoy, 
 Vnles I might her company enioy. " (p. 52, st 4. ) 
 
 21. A third Portrait. 
 
 " As flie lookes now, fo lookes the Moone in skies, 
 When mongfl the gloomie clowdes portending raine. 
 She with the watrie horned head forth pries. 
 Spreading abroade her dewie beames amaine : 
 So we Aurora vfe for to depaint, 
 Mongil palilh violets, when flie looketh faint 
 
 Pitie is mixt with griefe in her faire face. 
 
 And Griefe with Pitie in the fame conioyne. 
 
 Where Love (though fick) fits with a louely grace, 
 
 In midft of fickly palenes in her eyne. 
 
 Sicknes it felfe fo louely nere did looke, 
 But fmce her Inne in Albas breaft flie tooke. 
 
 That flately Haughtines flie had before. 
 Now changde is into low Humilitie ; 
 And that fame glance that faithles was of yore. 
 Now faithfuU flieweth and full of Loyaltie. 
 
 So with her Colour if flie did cruell take. 
 
 Yet Pitiful! her Palenes doth her make." (p. 55, st. 2 to 4.) 
 
 22. Shew not Reality — pleading. 
 " To thee farre off (from me) thefe Cghs I fend, 
 To thee farre ofi from Loue, I, neere to die. 
 To know if thou thy felfewill minde wilt mend, 
 Defifling from thy hatefull Crueltie. 
 
 H 
 
Introduction. 
 
 Beautie if it be milde, it is renound ; 
 If it be proud, a foule reproch tis found. 
 
 Thou makft a fliew as if tliou wouldft be klnde : 
 
 But tis a fliadow, not a fubftance right : 
 
 For comming vnto triall ftraight I finde, 
 
 Thy fdainfuU chaft lookes puts my Hope to flight ; 
 
 Whilft thou dofl feeme at thefe my Woes to grieue. 
 
 Yet them with fuccour neuer doft relieue. 
 
 Thy Griefe (for me) a paffion's in a play, 
 
 Which men doth rauith with Melancholy ; 
 
 But aAed once, and out of fight away. 
 
 In minde, no longer there doth ftay, but dy : 
 Thou art the Acftor playing fuch a part. 
 My griefes neere deeply pearce into thy hart. 
 
 would I could from Reafons Court obtaine, 
 A Superfedeas, LoVE for to remoue, 
 
 From out my Breaft to thee, to eafe my paine, 
 That thou the force thereof a while mightft proue. 
 
 But Deftnie wlls that I thy flaue do ftay. 
 
 And fo I will, who bound is, muft obey. " (p. S8, st, I to 4. ) 
 
 23. Vain Ambition. 
 " Th' yuie that climing vp by th' elme doth runne, 
 Neuer can get hold of the beames of Sunne." (p. 61, st. 2.) 
 
 24. No Hope. 
 " Al! thefe, and many another worfer griefe. 
 Are no fuch plagues as is that Marble Hart, 
 (That Marble Hart) that yeelds me no reliefe. 
 Nor euer fought fome comfort to impart. 
 
 The refolution of the Heauens, nor any Time, 
 Can make (that Breaft ) to yeeld to my Defigne.'' 
 
 (p. 64, St. 3.) 
 
 25. Bracelet-enchantment. 
 " Thrife trebble bleffed Bracelet, rich in prife, 
 
 1 enuie not thy perlie fret, nor golde. 
 But fortune thine, becaufe in happie wife. 
 The place of perfeft pleafure thou doft holde. 
 
 About that wrift thou tumeft and windft fo oft. 
 More white then Snow, then thiftle down more foft. 
 
 Bafe mindes loue Golde : tis not thy Golde I fteeme. 
 
 For this I onely value thee at much, 
 
 Becaufe an Ornament th'art to be feene. 
 
 Of her white Hand yclept of right Nonesvch : 
 
Introduction. Iv 
 
 NONESVCH indeede, whofe Beautie is fo rare, 
 As nere the like, attainde the perfects Faire. 
 
 Tliis is the caufe fo highlie I thee rate, 
 
 As all the golden Mines of Indian Ground, 
 
 Nor Seas of Pearle can countemaile thy ftate, 
 
 Wherein thou art this prefent to be found : 
 
 And, if that trueth I (hall confeffe indeede. 
 The wealth of all the world thou doft exceed e. 
 
 But when I marke, how by ftrange cunning Art, 
 Faire louelie Haires, with Pearle and Golde conioyne, 
 A pleafing ioy doth feize vpon my Heart, 
 Whileft with ftrange pleafures, Fancie feeds my mind : 
 So as (fweete Bracelet) thou doft rightly proue, 
 To be th' enchantment of bewitching Love. " 
 
 (p. 68, 6t. I to 4. ) 
 26. The Miserable. 
 " No fweeter Mufick to the Miferable, 
 Then is Defpayre : therefore the more I feele 
 Of bittemes, of forrow fower and fell, 
 The more of Sweetnes it doth feeme to yeeld. 
 Vaine I efteeme my life, all libertie, 
 Since I do want mine Albas Companie.'' (p. 71, st. 3.) 
 
 27. A love-gift. 
 
 " Thice precious purfe, by daintie Hand y wrought. 
 
 Of Beauties Firft Borne, Fauours rightful! Heire, 
 
 Not for a world of wealth, purchaft or bought. 
 
 But freely ginen (for Loue) by Alba faire : 
 
 Giuen to me, vnworthie of the fame, 
 
 As one not meriting fo great a Gaine. 
 
 Tis not the richnes hereof, though tis much, 
 
 Nor rarenes of the worke furpaffing skill, 
 
 That I account of, though that it be fuch, 
 
 As euery eye, with mafement it doth fill : 
 
 But caufe t'was made by that Alconquering Hand, 
 Whofe becke, eue Loues own felf doth countermad." 
 
 (p. 72, St. I and 2.) 
 
 28. Hankerchief. 
 " Ah happie Handkercher, that keepft the figne, 
 (As only Monument vnto my Fame) 
 How deare my Loue was to fweet Alba mine, 
 When (fo) to ftiew my Loue ftie did me blame. 
 Relique of Love I do not enuie thee. 
 Though whom thy Mafter cannot, thou doft fee. 
 
Ivi Introdtiction. 
 
 Only let me intreat this Fauour fmall, 
 When in her chamber all alone by chance, 
 Open her pretie Casket for feme work flie fliatl. 
 And hap her eye on thee vnwares to glance : 
 Ah, then the colour of her face but marke. 
 And thou by that Ihalt know her inward hart. 
 
 If ihe ihall blufli, and grieue, thee fo to view, 
 
 And wiftly caft on thee a piteous eye. 
 
 It is a figne her loue continues true, 
 
 And that her faith Ihe doth not falfifie. 
 
 Ah, then (afrefli) (her faith more firme to moue) 
 Bleed thou againe, for to reuiue her Loue. 
 
 But if fhe (feeing thee) no account doth make. 
 Flinging thee here and there without regard : 
 Know then expired is my louing Date, 
 My Hope deceiu'd, my Fortune ouer hard. 
 Yet if (he doth but fighing fay to thee, 
 (Safely) (Farewell deare Servant) happie mee." 
 
 (p. 75, St. I to 4.) 
 29. Despondency. 
 " Thofe ebbon windowes fweete, thofe cheerfuU eyes. 
 Where Love (at Lavvgh and fweete looke on) doth play, 
 Are on the fudden changde in ftrangie wife. 
 And do Difdaines Enfigne (gainft me) difplay : 
 
 Darke now they feeme, and fower, ore paiTmg bad. 
 Making my life feeme to me black and fad. 
 
 Thofe cheerfuU eyes, which wont to comfort me, 
 
 And to my hungrie foule yeeld nourifliment, 
 
 Denie me foode, nor will they pleafed be. 
 
 But mew me vp, as ftarueling clofely pent. 
 
 My walks I vfde, which faire and eafie were. 
 Are ftopt with blood-drawing brables euery where. 
 
 My crafed hart thus skorned for his Loue 
 And plagude with proud difdaine and sdainfull Pride, 
 Wailes fo as would a Rock (though fiintie) moue : 
 Nor better courfe hath this Difgrace to bide, 
 
 Then fighs and Teares, which forth he fends apace, 
 And (damned like) ftill begs, but nere finds grace. 
 
 Sweete ftay of my weake tottring life nie falne, 
 Balme to my wounds, and Cordiall to my griefe. 
 Light to my darknes, to my ftorme, milde Calme, 
 Eafe to my palne, and to my want, Reliefe. 
 Ah who hath now (and that fo fuddenly) 
 Of pitie tliee depriu'd, to make me die ? 
 
Introduction. Ivii 
 
 Poore wafted Hart that wandreft not aftray, 
 Although thy Peaele her orient colour change : 
 Thou, which in thy firft Faith vnftained doft ftay, 
 Although flie from her plighted vow doth range. 
 
 Ah, where are now thy cheerfuU dales of Hope ? 
 
 Thy Liues line, Loue, what wretched had hath broke ? " 
 (p. 76, St. I to 4; p. 77, St. I.) 
 
 30, Longing in Exile. 
 " O that I were where bides mine Alba faire, 
 VVhofe perfon to poffeffe is pleafure fuch, 
 As driues away all melancholy Care, 
 Which doth the Hart through Griefs impreffion touch : 
 Whofe louely Locks AH do more curious deeme, 
 When they moft careles to be dreffed feerae. 
 
 Her fweet Lookes moft alluring be, when they 
 Moft chafte do feeme in modeft glancing ihow : 
 Her words, the more they vertuoufly do way, 
 The more (in count) for amorous they go : 
 
 Her dreffing fuch as when negledled moft, 
 
 She's thought as then to haue beftowed moft coft. 
 Sweet Fortune, when I meet my louely Treafure, 
 Dafh my Delights with fome fmall light difgrace, 
 Left I (enioying fweetnes boue all meafure) 
 Surfet without recure on thy faire face. 
 
 Her wonted coynefle let her vfe a while, 
 
 My fierce Defire by Diet to beguile. 
 
 Left with the fulnes of my ioyes, abate 
 
 The fweetnes, and I perifli ftraight before 
 
 I do poiTefle them, at too deare a rate. 
 
 But foft (Fond Icarus) how high wilt foare : 
 
 Thou dreameft I think, or foulie doft miftake, 
 I dreame indeed. Ah might I neuer wake." 
 
 (p. 78, St. I to 4.) 
 
 31. The Hawk and Lure. 
 " Like as the Hawke caft from the Faulkners fift, 
 Freed from the Mew doth (ioyfuU) take his flight, 
 Soaring aloft in th'aire as beft him lift. 
 Now here, now there, doth finde no fmall delight, 
 Enioying that, which Treafures all doth paffe, 
 (His libertie) wherefore he prifoner was. 
 
 But when th'acquainted Hollow he doth heare, 
 And feeth the Lure caft forth him home to traine, 
 As one obedient full of awfull feare, 
 
Iviii Introduction. 
 
 He leaues his flight, and backward tumes againe, 
 Chufing in ancient bonds for to be bound. 
 Fore faithles to his Lord he will be found : 
 
 So (Alba) though I wanton, otherwhile, 
 Do runne abrode, and other Ladies court. 
 Seeking the time with pleafures to beguile. 
 And oft my felfe with words of courfe do fport, 
 Diffembling with Diflemblers cunninglie, 
 As is the guife, with tongue, with hand, and Eye. 
 
 Yet when I thinke vpon thy face diuine, 
 
 Thy Beautie cals me home, flraight as a Lure, 
 
 All other banifhing from Hart of mine, 
 
 And in Loves Bands to thee doth binde me fure. 
 
 And fmce my Faith, and Fates do fo ordaine, 
 
 I am content thy prifoner to remaine. 
 
 Where are thofe Haires fo lonely Browne in Ihow ? 
 
 Where is that fnowy IVTount of luorie white ? 
 
 With damaske Rofe where do the Lillies grow ? 
 
 Whofe Colours & whofe fweetnes All delight ? 
 
 Where are thofe cheerfull Lights, Lamps of cleere Loue 
 Wherein, a beautious Heauen doth alwaies moue." 
 
 (p. 79, St. I to 4; p. 80, St. I.) 
 
 32, Homage. 
 " To thee (Deare Faire) that makfl me fare amiife, 
 To thee my Goddeffe I my prayers make. 
 And proftrate fall before thy Shrine of Blijfe, 
 Craning of thee, that them in worth thou take, 
 Whileft I to thee my Hart in humble wife, 
 Vpon thy beautious Altar facrifife." (p. 86, st. I.) 
 
 33. Can't surcease to love. 
 " Support my feeble Thoughts, that fcarfe can moue, 
 For thou wert wont, fuch, better to commend. 
 Who would perfift more loyall in their Loue, 
 And perfeuere vnto the lateft end, 
 
 Then thofe, who whe Loues courfe they gan to run. 
 Would giue it ore, before halfe way were done. 
 
 I cannot doe fo, for my longing Hart, 
 Is knit in thine, in fuch perfedlion ftrange. 
 That Death thefe twaine in funder cannot part, 
 Nor length of Time, nor Places diftant change ! 
 Thy Beautious Vertue, Veytuous Beautie tis. 
 That makes me ioy in noy, take Bale for blis." 
 
 (p. 87, St. 2 and 3.) 
 
Introduction. lix 
 
 34. Love-letany. 
 " Now that my weary fpirits do runne their race, 
 To thofe tranfplendent Lamps of Alba faire : 
 And gazing there (in vaine) do plead for grace, 
 Leaning their ancient lodging nakte and bare. 
 She as their Foe Hands on her Brauerie, 
 And pafTage to their Entrance doth denie." (p. 89, st. I.) 
 
 35. Love's Armour. 
 " Againfl her wrath He true and Humble be. 
 For Faiths my Fence, my Shield's, Humilitie." 
 
 {ibid., St. 4, 11. 5, 6.) 
 36. Parting. 
 " So great a griefe did neuer pearce the Hart, 
 Of any louing Mother ouer kinde. 
 When (lie her only fonne readie to part, 
 Doth fee to forraine Countde gainft her minde, 
 Lofing the ftaife of her old Age and ftay, 
 On whom the Hope of all her Comfort lay. 
 
 As wofuU I, when I thofe louely Eyes 
 Saw to looke back, which I Ihould fee no more 
 Of many dales, and when in pitious wife, 
 They ftiewd by fignes Our parting grieu'd them fore, 
 Ah when her laft looke backe on me ftie cafl, 
 Then, then, I thought I fliould haue breath'd my laft. 
 
 Yet for my Harts fake did my fpirits reuiue. 
 
 And life once more recouered they againe, 
 
 Whilft flaring after her I kept aliue. 
 
 And thought that I (not feeing her) faw her plaine. 
 Long time my Powers were got into my fight. 
 Deluding me with pleafmg falfe Delight." (p. 93, St. I to 3. 
 
 37. Physicians useless. 
 " Sick in my lothed Bed I languifli fall, 
 Nor can my learned Do(fl:or help me ought, 
 His cunning now is at the lateft caft, 
 Yet he no eafe to crafed me hath brought. 
 
 And marueile none though he no helpe can finde, 
 
 Sicke am I not in Bodie, but in minde." (p. 96, st. I. 
 
 38. Lady-love ill. 
 " Pure luorie white, with fpot of Crim/on red. 
 Where Beauties Firjl Borne lay the perfedl Molde, 
 Or like Aurora rifing from her Bed, 
 Such was mine Alba faire for to beholde. 
 
Introduction. 
 
 Such was She, when She louely Love ore came, 
 The Conquerers Glory, Conqttereds PUafing Shame. 
 
 But now that Cullor faire hath changde his grace, 
 
 Through Burning Feuer, (deadly in his kinde) 
 
 And Sallow Palmes ftained hath that Face^ 
 
 To whom the Prize for Fauour was affinde, 
 Sicke is my Lady, ficke is all Delight, 
 And brighteft Day is turnde to darkeft Night. 
 
 Fortune hath fbolne from Alba, tooke from Love, 
 
 From him flie takes his Solace, Sport and Play ; 
 
 From Her her Beautie which (he would improue, 
 
 And to her felfe, would (fafely) it conuay. 
 Being Pitifull flie Cruell feemes to be 
 And in her Blindenes iheweth that ihe can fee. 
 
 Falfe Fortune darke as Molle in any Good ; 
 But to doe Hurt, as Argus, full of Eyes, 
 In outward (hew, a Tiger fierce and wood : 
 And yet to me (he's kinde in piteous wife. 
 
 Since She, by drawing Beautie from that place, 
 Quencht hath my Fier, to eafe me for a fpace." 
 
 (p. 99, St. I to 4.) 
 39. Heart dying. 
 " My Harte upon his Deathbed, ficke, did lye. 
 Calling vpon proud Alba but in vaine ; 
 Too Cruell (he, (for pittie) it did crie. 
 Yet had Repulfe through Rigor of Difdaine. 
 So as to liue thus (long) it could not bide, 
 But foone gaue vp the Ghoft, and fo he dide. 
 
 Then to the Chappell of bad Fortune hard. 
 
 By fmoking fighes it quickelie was conuaide, 
 
 A place for thefe fad Funerals preparde, 
 
 Where in a Tombe of Loyaltie t'was laide. 
 
 Anger, Sufpeft, Griefe, Sorow, Care, and Feare, 
 With difmall Doubtes, the chiefeft mourners were. 
 
 About the Hierce, great (lore of Teares were (hed ; 
 The Torches that did burne fo cleare and bright. 
 Were Albas eyes by Crueltie mifled, 
 Whileft (he triumpht to fee fo wofuU fight. 
 
 Pittie the Dirge did (mg with wofuU Plaint, 
 
 Afsifted with a blacke and difmall Sauut. 
 
 Vpon the Monument yplaced was 
 
 Fire, Sworde, and Corde, with Arrowes fliarpe & keene, 
 
Introduction. Ixi 
 
 The Epitaph (for fuch as by Ihould pas) 
 Was thus fubfcribde, and carued to be feene. 
 Loe here that gentle Hart entomhde doth lie. 
 Whom cruell Alba cavfeles forjl to die." 
 
 (p. lOO, St. I to 4. ) 
 
 40. Passion. 
 "Vnhappie Pilgrim I, borne still to euill 
 To shrine her for a Saint, who is a Deuill." (p. 112, st. 4.) 
 
 41. Friendship. 
 " When Beautie fickneth, then Deftre doth die, 
 Fauor doth vade moft flouring in his prime. 
 Then Love doth ebbe, when flowes Aduerfitie, 
 But Friend/hip bides out euerie ftormie Time. 
 
 (p. 113, St. I, 11. I to 4.) 
 
 42. Respect. 
 
 " (Ladie) I hope no line is herefet downe, 
 Sauns awfull looking backe vnto your frowne." 
 
 (p. 116, St, 2, 11. s, 6.) 
 
 43. Heaven. 
 
 " Thou, then flialt be, whereas the Bleffed axe, 
 pure = Poore Soule, mongft Soules, mongft Stars, a brightfome Starred 
 
 (p. 121, St 4, II. S, 6.) 
 
 44. Living Death. 
 " Thou Life which Life art calde, and yet art Death. 
 Thou Death, which Death art termde, and yet art Life, 
 Say ; which of you maintaine my vitall breath. 
 Within this wretched Vale of Worldly ftrife? 
 
 Say, which prolongs my Life, moft of you Twaine ? 
 Or thou Life, or thou Death ; fay both the fame. 
 
 Wherefore, what ere he be, that meanes to ioy 
 This other Life that is Celefiiall, 
 He muft not fcome (to fcape from worlds annoy) 
 Nor thinke it much, to come when Death fhall call. 
 For Death, not Life, doth help vs at the end. 
 Life is our Foe, but Death, our deareft Friend." 
 
 (p. 123, St. I and 4.) 
 
 45. Heavenly Beauty. 
 " This earthly Beautie doth the Sence delight. 
 But Heauenly Beautie doth the minde more pleafe : 
 The one the World hath as an Object right, 
 And feekes the World to pleafure with fweet eafe : 
 
Ixii Introduction. 
 
 But th'other hath lehouah for hir glaffe, 
 Nor Ave for any but for him doth paffe." 
 
 (p. 126, St. I.) 
 
 46. Earthly Beauty. 
 " Faire Pearle, fine golde, bafe excrements of th'earth ; 
 What's Beautie, but a little Whik and Red? 
 Reuiued with a little liuely Breath, 
 With Winde, or Sunne, or Sicknes altered ? 
 
 All this doth Time confume and bring to nought, 
 And all what ere into this world is brought. 
 
 The faireft Colours drie and vanifh fliall ; 
 T^isyongjl muft pack as well as doth the Olde: 
 All mortall things to raortall death muft fall, 
 And therefore firft were caft in earthly molde. 
 
 That which doth florifh greene as graffe to-day. 
 To morrow withereth like to dried Hay." 
 
 (p. 127, St. 3 and 4.) 
 
 47. The Sence. 
 " The Sence doth burne with Loues vnperfeft works," 
 
 (p. 126, St. 2, L I.) 
 
 48. Evanescence. 
 
 " The fairest Flower must wither with the weed, 
 What so doth Hue, to die was first decreede." (p. 128, st. a.) 
 
 49. Immortality. 
 
 Who dyeth ill, dyes ; who dieth well, neuer dies. 
 
 But liues a life aboue Eternallie : 
 
 Like good Elias, who in wondrous wife, 
 
 Was from bafe Eai-th tooke vp to liue in side : 
 Where bide TK elect of Chriji for euer bleft. 
 In Abrahams bofome there for aye to reft. 
 
 (p. 128, St. 4.) 
 
 These quotations — which might be abundantly and 
 rewardingly encreased — vindicate for Tofte his own utmost 
 claim of a lowly place in England's great Antiphon. He 
 was no ' dulcet Nightingale,' but he was the ' Robin Red 
 Breast ' he delighted to name and re-name himself 
 
 The critical Reader will have observed Italian-derived 
 words and forms in Alba. The following details of most 
 may pt-ove acceptable, together with related things. Some 
 
Introduction. Ixiii 
 
 very sensible remarks on the impropriety of thus adulterat- 
 ing the English tongue will be found in Puttenham's Art of 
 Poejie (b. iii, f. 22). 
 
 Page 3, St. 2, 1. I, daine = dignify ; so the Italian, dignare, 
 is used occasionally. 
 
 „ 23, St. I, 1. 3, doth his dutie, i.e., does his best = fa il suo 
 dovere. 
 
 „ 27, St. 3, 1. 2, and in four other places, noy for annoy- 
 ance = noia. Also used by Lodge. Vide Nares, s.v. 
 
 „ 29, St. 2, 1. I, humour, moisture = umore (Latin humor). 
 Also in Spenser, v. Richardson, s.v. ; and 
 "humorous night" is in Shakespeare, Romeo 
 and Juliet. 
 
 „ 35, St. 2, 1. ^, paver, poor = povero ; unless it be rather 
 the Yxexx}a.pauvre. 
 
 >, Z9, s*^- 3. 1- 3> prove, attempt = provare. 
 
 „ 43, St. 2, 1. 6, of thy sweet sake. I can make nothing of 
 this, unless sake is an eccentric translation of 
 grazie, and Tofte meant of thy sweet grace. 
 
 „ 51, St. I, 11. 5, 6^ more . ... the more. A peculiar use, 
 
 „ 54, St. 4, 11. 3, 4 l- corresponding to the Italian, pih 
 
 „ 67, St. I, 1. 6 ) tanto pih (found in Dante), 
 
 and to plus .... tatit plus, in old French. Cf . 
 also sharper . ... the shroder, p. dl, st. 3, 11. 2, 3. 
 
 „ 54, St. 2, 1. 2, bandies, banishes = bandire. 
 
 „ 56, St. 1, 1. 6, expecting . . . wheti; cf the Italian, espettare 
 . . . . che; or the Latin, expectare dum, is nearer. 
 
 „ 63, St. 2, 1. 6, disdained, disdainful = sdegnato. Add 
 sdainfull = sdegnoso, p. 58, st. 2, 1. 4, Sdeign is 
 used by Spenser. 
 
 „ 6^, St. 2, 1. S, the farther I to find, i.e., from finding. In 
 Italian the infinitive would be used as substan- 
 tive, and Tofte has attempted to reproduce this 
 in English. 
 
 „ 6B, St. 2, 1. I, steeme, esteem = stimare. 
 
 „ 80, St. 2, 1. 3, her straining beauties sight. See Notes 
 
Ixiv Introduction. 
 
 and Illustrations. Perhaps the explanation in 
 the note is plausible enough for so fantastic a 
 writer as Tofte ; but it seems possible that by 
 straining he meant strange; Italian strano or 
 stranio. 
 Page 85, St. I, 1. 2, extract, extracted = estratto. 
 „ 88, St. 3, 1. \, paste, placed = posto. 
 „ 90, St. 3, 1. I, suspect, suspicion = sospetto. This, of 
 course, is common contemporaneously and 
 earlier. 
 n 93) St. 4, 1. 2, disgrace, misfortuue = disgrazia. 
 „ 94, St. 3, 1. 3, is to see, is to be scene = ^ a vedere. 
 
 Common at the time. 
 „ 119, St. I, 1. 4, condole, lament; nearly = Italian con- 
 
 dolersi. 
 The following may be added by way of supplement : 
 (i) Verbs used as substantives according to the well- 
 known Italian idiom : shine, p. 2, 1. 2 ; denay, 
 p. 41, St. I, 1. 4 ; compare, p. 46, st. 3. 1. 5. 
 (2) Verbs ending ize: rmnatise, p. 17, st. 2, 1. 3, ; memorise, 
 p. 18, St. I, I. 2 ; tyrannise, p. 32, st. 2, 1. i, and p. 
 63, st. 1, 1. 6 ; subtellise, p. 32, st. 2, 1. 3 ; haroldise, 
 p. 42, St. 4, 1. S ; canonise, p. 42, st. 4, 1. 6 ; mirorise, 
 p. 54, St. 4, 1. s ; adidierise, p. 63, st. i, 1. S ; politize, 
 p. 65, St. 3, 1. I ; temporize, p. 65, st. 3, 1. 3 ; serenis- 
 ing, p. 66, St. 3, 1. 2 ; anatomise, p. 73, st. 4, 1. 5, and 
 p. 95, st. 4, 1. 5 ; envejtomise, p. 85, st. 4, 1. 6 ; in- 
 duratise, p. 86, st. 2, 1. 5 ; retranquillize, p. 86, st. 2, 
 1. 6 ; satanise, p. 132, st 4, 1. 5. 
 
 Of these sixteen verbs, five, or perhaps six, are 
 English now ; but in those days the use of such 
 verbs was reckoned as a badge of Italianism. 
 Nash, in the epistle prefixed to the second edition 
 of Christ's Tears over Jerusalem, 1594, writes: 
 " Others object unto me .... the often coyning of 
 Italionate verbs, which end all in ize, as mummi- 
 
Introduction. Ixv 
 
 anize, tympanize, tirannize. My ubraided 
 
 Italionate verbs are the least crime of a thousand, 
 since they are grown in general request with every 
 good poet. Besides, they carrie farre more state 
 with them then any other, and are not halfe so 
 harsh in their desinence as the old hobling Eng- 
 lish verbes ending in r ; they expresse more then 
 any other verbes whatsoever, and that [kind of] 
 substantives would be quite barraine of verbs, but 
 for that ending." (Reprinted by J. P. Collier, in 
 preface to his reprint of Harvey's Neiv Letter of 
 Notable Contents') 
 
 (3) Words which have a syllable added on at the end, prob- 
 ably to satisfy an ear accustomed to the Italian 
 endings in and a, though the affixes are Teutonic, 
 not Italian. This is by no means peculiar to Tofte. 
 The instances I have noted in Alba are: devoutfull, 
 strangle, calmie, hugie, vastie, cooly, blacksome, para- 
 dised, palish. If the above alternative explanation 
 ol straining, p. 80, as = strange, is right, it is another 
 instance of the same tendency. 
 
 {4) And wanting blood. Paleness sits on my face, p. 56, 
 St. 2, 1. 2 ; 
 Holding thee Deere, why sets by me so light, p. no, 
 St. I, 1. 3. 
 
 In each of these lines the first clause is what is 
 called a nominativii pendens ; a construction into 
 which a man might be entrapped by familiarity 
 with the use of the present participle in Italian, 
 which itself seems a relic of the Latin ablative 
 absolute. 
 
 (5) The hyperbolical superlative found in Ariosto and other 
 Italians, and very popular in England at the time. 
 See Ben Jonson's frequent ridicule of it. 
 By vertue of her more then radiant beames, 
 
 p. 57, St. 3, 1. 4. 
 
Ixvi Introduction. 
 
 Thy spotless life, thy more than chast desire, 
 
 ib., St. 4, 1. 6. 
 My love which is to thee more then extreame, 
 
 p. 95, St. 2, 1. 5. 
 More then high time tis for thee to relent, 
 
 p. 103, St. 3, 1. I. 
 
 (6) The use of the infinitive without to, is perhaps also a 
 
 trace of Italian influence. Instances are, seeke, p. 
 63, St. 3, 1. 5 ; and/ra/^, p. 104, st. 3, 1. i. 
 
 (7) Of the numerous awkward inversions in which Tofte 
 
 delights, I select those which seem most like 
 Italian inversions : 
 
 p. 64, st. 2, 1. 2, My willing minde to doe what 
 wild Command, i.e., mind willing .... Command 
 willed. 
 
 p. 68, st. 2, 1. 6, As nere the like attainde the 
 perfects Faire, i.e., never the most perfect Faire 
 (beauty) attained the like. 
 
 p. 73, St. 3, 1. 2, A quenchles burning this my 
 secret Fire, i.e., my secret Fire [makes] a quench- 
 les burning. 
 
 p. TJ, st. 3, 1. 6, That opens wide the path of 
 proud Disdaine, i.e., that the path of proud disdain 
 opens wide. 
 
 p. 93, st. I, 11. 3, 4, When she her only sonne 
 readie to part, doth see to forraine Countrie gainst 
 her minde, i.e., when she doth see her only son 
 ready to part for foreign Country. 
 
 p. 106, St. 2, 1. 2, As merits due desart, i.e., as 
 due desert merits. 
 
 (8) Thy Beautious Vertiie, Vertuous Beautie tis, &c., p. 87, st. 
 
 3, 1. 5. This sort of hypallage (or whatever the right 
 name of it may be) is an Italian peculiarity, e.g. : 
 Amorosa onestate, onesto amore, 
 Con severa piet^ grato rigore, 
 Ed in alta umiltate umile altezza. 
 
 (Annibal Caro.) 
 
Introduction. Ixvii 
 
 (9) p. 96, st. 3, 11. 5, 6, long, adj., rhymed to long, verb. The 
 regular rule of Italian versification is, that a word 
 can rhyme to another word the same in form and 
 sound, but different in sense. This refinement 
 does not seem ever to have taken root in England. 
 I may cite, however, the following from Gabriel 
 Harvey {The Trimming of Thomas Nash, Collier's 
 reprint, p. 27) : " It may be thou likest not these 
 verses, for that they want riming words, and I ende 
 both the verses with one word : no, Tom, noe, 
 thinke not soe, bewray not so thy poetry, for that 
 distich is best contrived, and most elegant, that 
 endes both verses with one word, if they import 
 a divers sense." 
 
 We wind up with a few Gallicisms. 
 Page 3, St. 3, 1. 2, novel, new = nouveau, nouvelle. 
 
 „ 29, St. 3, 1. 4, reuilde, made vile, wrought low = Fr., 
 ravili. 
 f St. 2, 1. 3, boun gree =d bongre. 
 
 " ^ ' t St. 4, 1. 2, outer-boldness is exactly outre = Gui- 
 dance (also accepted in the English, v. Nares, s.v^ 
 
 „ 61, St. 4, 1. 5 "I the Cruel = la Cruelle (also found in old 
 
 „ 92, St. I, 1. 3 J English, and largely in old Scotch ; 
 but everywhere a distinct Gallicism. 
 
 » 73. crueltise, a French form though not a French word, 
 formed on the model of covetise. 
 
 There are reminiscences of contemporaries in Alba. Thus, 
 Spenser's Ruins of Rome, or from Bellay himself, was 
 undoubtably before him when he wrote thus : 
 
 " You ftately Hils, you princelike Ruins olde. 
 Which proudly in your laft remainders Ihow, 
 And who as yet the name of faire Rome holde. 
 To whom did once the whole world homage owe. 
 The place where (now) fo many Relikes lie. 
 Of Holy foules honord for Chrifl to die. 
 
 You Theaters, you Conquerors Arches faire, 
 Coloifes huge, and mafsie Fillers great. 
 
Ixvili Introduction. 
 
 Triumphant Skowes of more then Glory rare. 
 Where VidVorie with pomp did take their feate ; 
 Lo what a wonder ftrange in you is wrought, 
 You now are duft, confumde (as twere) to nought. 
 
 Though conquering War, doth make in time to come, 
 Many things floriffi, and with Fame to rife : 
 Yet in the end when all is paft and done. 
 Time doth All this confume in fpitefull wife. 
 
 All Monuments, all Monarchs that haue been, 
 Time in the end deilroyes, and weares out cleane. 
 
 (p. 37, St I to 3.) 
 
 Again Lord Vaux {Fuller Worthies Library edition, p. 24). 
 
 " Is this a life? naye death you male it call, 
 That feeles each paine and knowcth no ioye at all " 
 
 is recalled by p. 32, st. i. 11. 5-6 : 
 
 " Then death, not life, I may this lining call, 
 Where ceafeles Noy, not ioy, doth me befall. " 
 
 So elsewhere. 
 
 Once more — we read in Thomas Watson's "EKaTo^iradia, 
 Sonnet xlvii, thus : 
 
 " More fierce is my fweete hue, more hard withall. 
 Then Beaft, or Birde, then Tree, or ftony wall " 
 
 which is worked into p. 66, st. 2, 11. 3-4, thus : 
 
 " Shoulde haue a hart more cruell and more fell 
 Then Tiger, harder then a ftony wall." 
 
 These lines had already been transplanted bodily into 
 Kyd's Spanish Tragedy. Further: At p. 91, cf. Sir Thomas 
 Wyatt's Sonnet : 
 
 " Lyke unto these unmeasurable mountaines." 
 
 I have an idea that a more intimate knowledge of con- 
 temporary (minor) Italian Poets than I can pretend to, would 
 reveal indebtedness in Alba and in Laura to some of them. 
 
 Altogether I do not imagine that any of my constituency 
 at any rate, will differ from me in regarding ROBERT TOFTE 
 as a worthy addition to these Occasional Issues of unique 
 and extremely rare books. 
 
Introduction. Ixix 
 
 For the absolutely unique exemplar of Alba, I am in- 
 debted, as pleasantly for others, to ALFRED H. HUTH, Esq. 
 For many suggestions and modestly-rendered help in various 
 ways, I have to tiiank right cordially one good friend (who 
 will not allow himself to be named) in Edinburgh, and, as in 
 other cases, my unfaiHng friend Dr. Brinsley Nicholson 
 has given me the benefit of his reading, in slip-proof, my 
 Notes and Illustrations. 
 
 ALEXANDER B. GROSART. 
 
 St. Georges Vestry, 
 
 Blackburn, Lancashire, 
 
 zgth November, 1880. 
 
 P.S. — It is to be noted that Tofte addresses a man as 
 only we would a woman (p. 6, 1. 5), as Shakespeare and 
 contemporaries did. Query (p. 47, st. 2, 1. 6), ' leeke ' may 
 be = like ? 'Burnham ' (p. 86, last line) has yielded no 
 memorial of Tofte or Toftes to my inquiries. In Notes 
 and Illustrations, for p. 104, read p. 105. — G. 
 
 K 
 
ALBA. 
 
 THE MONTHS 
 
 MINDE OF A ME- 
 LANCHOLY LOVER, 
 diuided into three 
 parts : 
 
 By R. T. Gentleman. 
 
 HEREVNTO IS ADDED A 
 
 moft excellent pathetical and pafsionate Let- 
 ter, fent by Duke DEpernoun, vnto the late 
 French King, Henry the 3. of that name, 
 when he was commanded from the 
 Court, and from his Royall 
 Companie. Tranflated 
 into Englifti by the 
 forefaid Au- 
 thor. 
 
 Spes, Amor, & Fortuna valete. 
 
 At LONDON. 
 
 Printed by Felix Kingjlon, for Matthew 
 
 Lownes. 1598. 
 
As glorious Pearle, the Margarite 
 At fbine of Sunne doth fhowe : 
 
 So doth Ihe looke, or very like, 
 To whom I Dutie owe. 
 
 R. T. 
 
TO THE NO LESSE 
 
 EXCELLENT THEN HO- 
 NORABLIE DESCENDED 
 
 Gentlewoman, Miftreffe 
 
 Anne Heme. 
 
 PVre Lampe of Vertue, burning alwaies bright, 
 Who, Grace in me (vnworthie) doft infufe : 
 Cleere Sunne that driu'ft each doubtfull Mift from fight. 
 The firm'ft Maintainer of my crafed Mufe ; 
 Lo I this mournfull Verfe in fable weede, 
 From forrowes Cell, do fend thee for to reade. 
 
 Daine thou with cheerfuU looke, what my fad eye 
 
 Diflils from Lymbeck of a bleeding Hart ; 
 
 Fruits of true Loue difdainde moft wrongfully, 
 
 Vouchfafe of me (as of my Dutie) part, 
 
 A Wofull Wight, indebted paieth thee fo : 
 Bankroutes in pleafure, can but pay with woe. 
 
 As often as the Moone doth change her courfe. 
 
 And Sunne to nouell Signe doth enter in : 
 
 So often I do call ftill for remorfe, 
 
 Whilft endles forrow doth new Griefe begin. 
 
 Once I each Month to Crvel Alba make, 
 A Months Mind, yet no pitie (he doth take. 
 
 A 2 Thou 
 
Thou art the Shadow of her Svbstance faire, 
 Refembling her moft perfeftly in Shape : 
 Ah then but fmile, and it fhall eafe my care, 
 Though flint it cannot, her nere dying hate : 
 
 Grant me this Boone, and neuer fhall my Verfe 
 Leaue, of thy Chriflall BROOKE praife to rehearfe. 
 
 Humbly deuoted vnto your 
 matchles Vertues. 
 
 R. T. 
 
TO THE THRISE GE- 
 
 NEROVS AND NOBLE 
 
 Gentleman Sir Calijlhines Brooke 
 
 Knight, one of her Maieflies 
 
 chiefe Commanders in 
 
 Ireland. 
 
 Mirror of Knighthood, WORTHIES Caualiere, 
 Touchftone of Valour, Chiefe of Chiualrie ; 
 Honor of Field, to Foe a deadly Feare, 
 Wars bloody Ancient, Plague to Surqedrie : 
 Souldiers Reliefe, Mars braueft Coronell, 
 Bellonas Trumpet, Battailes Larum Bell : 
 
 Sweet to thy Friends, to Strangers nothing fower, 
 Whofe kinde Behauiour hath bin of fuch force. 
 As ore thy deadliefl: Foes, th' haft had great power, 
 Making them learne true Pitie and Remorfe. 
 
 Witnes the fauadge Kerns, and Irish wilde. 
 Wrought through thy Cartage fweete, both tame and 
 
 (milde, 
 Vertue and Honor, ftriue in thee t'exceede ; 
 Valour and Beautie, Intrejl in thee claime, 
 Whilft thou thy Noble Houfe nobleft indeede, 
 Thy Houfe, not thee, through thy Palme-rifing Fame. 
 Worthy art thou to be (Faire matchles Wight) 
 Minion to Kings, to Queenes, dear Favorite. 
 
 A 3 Then 
 
Then (Courteous Knight) vouchfafe with cheerful! 
 
 This wofuU Verfe (though worthies) to accept : (fmile, 
 
 Begot by Griefe, brought forth as Sorrowes Childe, 
 
 Since Thee and Thine (as Sacred) I refpefl. 
 Ah had mine Alba feene thy louely Face, 
 For thy fweet fake, I (then) had found fome Grace. 
 
 At your honorable Difpofition 
 alwaies to be commanded. 
 
 R. T. 
 
To the right noble and mag- 
 
 nanimous Gentleman Sir John 
 
 Brooke knight, one of her 
 
 Maiefties chiefe Captaines in 
 
 the Low COVNTRIES. 
 
 BRaue Knight, whofe Vertues far exceed thy yeeres. 
 The Ornament of thy thrife Noble Houfe, 
 Whofe Worth is fuch as findes abroad few Peeres : 
 So Famous art thou, and Illujlrious, 
 
 Making the World to wonder at thy Praife, 
 Whilft to thy felfe new Glorie thou doft raife. 
 
 Thou like vnto another Alexander, 
 Art to thy Countries Foes, a Tamberlaine, 
 (A Bloody Scourge) whilft thou doft them indanger, 
 The Proudft of whom, thou makft to yeeld with fliame : 
 Witnes the Siege of Amyens late in France, 
 Where Knightly Honor thy Seruice did aduance. 
 
 Vouchfafe thou then great MARSI'S Parent Heire 
 To lay afide thy Martiall minde a fpace. 
 And view thefe lines, TK vntimely Fruits of Care, 
 Which I defire (though not deferue) to grace : 
 Gratious thou art with All, then grace to One 
 This Verfe, whofe Grace I do entreate alone. 
 
 A 4 May 
 
May be, when my coy Alba (hall perceiue, 
 This fauour done fo kindly vnto me, 
 She (for a while) from Rigor then will breathe. 
 Taking Truce, (though not Peace) from Crueltie. 
 Grant me this Sute, and I with zeale will pray. 
 That when thou lou'ft, thy Mijlris nere fay Nay. 
 
 At your honorable Difpofition 
 alwaies to be commanded. 
 
 R. T. 
 
Richard Day to the Author. 
 
 rj/'HilJi lonely ROBIN Redbrest thou dojlfing, 
 
 In chirping note her Beautie mojl diuine, 
 Whom thou to heauen with peaks of praife dojl ring, 
 The gentle Aire with thee keepes tune and time: 
 Aurora, from the skies on AuBK/weet, 
 Raines Rofes, her in kindnes more to greet. 
 
 To heare theejing the Windes are whiji in th'aire, 
 And calmie Zephirus a coole frejh blajl doth blow : 
 Flora doth /mile, and Riuers forced are 
 To flay tlteir courfe, they like thy mufickfo : 
 
 Willing they lend to thee their liflning eare, 
 As who would fay, Him only would we heare. 
 
 Thefauage beafls do runne ; the liules flones 
 Tumble apace, and mouing Mountaines hie. 
 To heare howfweetly thou thy Loue bemones, 
 Taking delight in this rare melodie. 
 
 Whilfl Love himfelfe hearing thee making Loue, 
 The heate thereof as rauifhed dothproue. 
 
 So did the Thracian Orpheus heretofore, 
 
 Vpon theflowring bankes of Heher play 
 
 On skilfull Harpe, (as thou dofl now implore 
 
 Longfi Tamesis) for f aire Euredifay. 
 
 Be then our Englifh Orpheus, raife thy Verfe, 
 Thy worthie Albas praife, brauely rehearfe. 
 
 R. Day. Gentleman. 
 
An Anfwer to his kinde friend 
 Richard Day. Gent. 
 
 1\T0 lonely, nor beloued Redbrest /, 
 
 A Robin poore refufde, fuck one I am, 
 Which lie afcribe vnto my Dejlinie, 
 And not impute it vnto Albas blame: 
 
 Yet will I chirp her praifes to my skilly 
 
 Where Art doth want, my Hart fupplies goodwill. 
 
 Sweet Friend, tis thou that lonely fweet dojlfing. 
 
 No fwanne, but rauen I ; my voice is hoarfe: 
 
 Thou Day to the day the cleerejl light dojl bring, 
 
 And of thy TflPiMK^iKflndfl remorfe. 
 
 Heauens, Aire, Windes, Earth, Beafls, Stones, Hils, Seas 
 Thou canft command by thy fweet Verfes call, (and all, 
 
 To praife me thus thou dofl me too much wrong, 
 
 This waighfs too heauie for my back to beare: 
 
 To thee and to thy Miftris, Praife belong ; 
 
 For you, not me, this Garland's fit to weare. 
 
 Yet fince fame Flowers thereof you do beflow 
 On Alba mine, I thankefull fiill willfhow. 
 
 Be thou our Albions Orpheus mofl diuine, 
 
 I cannot play, my ioynts not nimble are : 
 
 Thou that art befl in L ones fweet tune and time, 
 
 Sound thou, direSled by a beautious Starre. 
 
 My Star is bright, yet let me tell the truth, 
 Where Beautie mofl abounds, there wants mofl ruth. 
 
 R. T. 
 
A friend, though ajiranger to 
 the Author. 
 
 J/f/'Hen I by chance do reade thy dulcet Verfe 
 
 I cannot (though ajiranger, yet thy friend. 
 Thy pafjions be fo pleafing, and fo pierce) 
 Btitgiue thee Due, and them (of right) commend. 
 So cunningly thy Verfe doth ioyne with Art 
 Thy grief es makes yerne the hardejl Readers hart. 
 
 If thou dojl write, thou others dojl enflaine. 
 Thy file is pure (well nie Celefiall) 
 Like to the Sunne fparkling his beames amaine. 
 Or like the Fire, whofe heate dothfoone appale. 
 To heare thy f elf e (not otlters ) Jing, I long, 
 Sweet Bird thy Notes arefweete, fweet is thy Song. 
 
 Sing then fweet Bird with Ruddie Breaft thy fill. 
 
 For I do loue, affeSl and honor thee : 
 
 Thou Sweet, I Conjlant, fo continuing flill, 
 
 A Cignet thou, and He a Louer bee : 
 
 Sofhall no loue be like the loue of mine, 
 Nojlile compare with file fo rare of thine. 
 
 Then be not mute, when thou maif gently moue ; 
 
 Keep not (alwaies) thy forrowes to thy felfe ; 
 
 Still mone not priuatly like turtle Doue; 
 
 Content of Mind's worth all: feeke thine oivne Health. 
 
 Thinke All things Itaue their courfe ; the time may come, 
 Though not obfcurde, yet bright may fhine thy Sunne. 
 
 Per Ignoto. 
 
An Anfwer. 
 
 JDOund by Defert, (thy Merits, but not mine) 
 A Stranger, thou, howjhall I make amet. 
 
 That of thy friend/hip, fuch affured Jigne 
 
 (To me fcant knowne) fuch louing Verfes fends? 
 
 Thanks giue I ; that's ayonger Brothers reward, 
 Nought els I haue, my Forttme is fo hard. 
 
 My worthies lines th'hafi red, (as thou daft write) 
 But (partiall thou) too much thefa7ne dofipraife. 
 To fing flill kindly thou dofl me inuite. 
 My Glorie (but indeed my Shame) to blaze. 
 Alas I cannot ; dead is thatfweet Fire, 
 Which did enflame in me fuch chafl Defire. 
 
 Then boldly fang I, when thofe louely Eyes 
 Were guides to me: but now that they are gone, 
 Now that my Sunnefhines not in cheerful wife, 
 Nor my Fire heates me, I will weep and mone. 
 I, weep, (faith Cruell AlJ&k) weep thy fill, 
 For neuer more I fee, or loue thee will. 
 
 But thou that conflant art in thy vowde Loue 
 And (as Beloiid) thy Ladies loue dofl gaine 
 With thyfweet Stile, and my fad Plaints to moue, 
 Each Readers harts feeke thou in amorous vaine ; 
 In fecret flill He forrow like the Doue, 
 And when my Sunne fhall fhine, then willl moue. 
 
 R. T. 
 
To my deare friend R. T. Gent. 
 
 C Weet Cignet that fo fweetly dojl deplore, 
 
 Thy fad lamenting PaJJions attd thy hue, 
 Where Tamesis doth flow alongft thefltore, 
 And from cleere Ifis doth his paffage moue. 
 
 Running alongft braue Troynouants right fide 
 Till ceaflesfhe into the Sea doth glide. 
 
 Thou to the Nymphs doft fing fo fweet a' tune. 
 
 Gracing thy f elf e withfuch afugred note, 
 
 As VVaues and VVindes, areftill, and calmiefoone 
 
 To heare thee ; nor defire they blow, orflote, 
 
 Whilft they do breath to vs this gentle Guft, 
 Only let ROBIN^^^, All other Birds be hujht. 
 
 I. M. Gent. 
 
 The Anfwer of the Author. 
 '/ "is thou, not I, that fingft fo fweet a Song, 
 
 Where Mersie ftreames, whofe waues are Siluer foud, 
 Whofe bankes are Gold, whilft he doth glide along 
 Into thefwelling Trent his vtmoft Bound. 
 
 You that in Loues Quire _/?«^, heare him alone 
 Not me: myfong's vnpleafant, full of mone. 
 
 Heare him, who chaunts withfuch a pleafant Lay, 
 As he, Seas flormes, can (when he lift) affwage ; 
 Make ftealing Time againft his will toftay. 
 And calme the Windes, when moft tliey feeme to rage : 
 Heare him ; to vs (to heare him) tis a Grace, 
 Your Glorie to be hufht, and giue him place. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 13 
 
The Author to Majier R. A. 
 
 T\Eare friend, in whom Euterpe doth injlill 
 ■^"^ Each rare Conceipt, within thy learned brejl, 
 Guiding fo happily thy pleajing quill, 
 Whiljl of thy Mi/iris Beautie th'art in Queft : 
 Making our Tataksis for fame as rare, 
 As Tiber, when proud Rome Worlds fcepter bare. 
 
 That LAWREL^r^w^ which in my youthftill yeares 
 I lotldfo much, fo deare, as like could none, 
 A fatall barren Cypreffe now appeares. 
 Which fear ce in harfh and hatefull Verfe I mone : 
 Too true pref age of Falling of my Sunne, 
 And haftie Pofle of my fad Grief es to come. 
 
 Then to what end, fince that it is in vaine. 
 My Jicklie penne, my bloodies hand to write 
 CaVdfl thou on mef that thus liueflill in paine. 
 Since blinded I, haue lofl mine Albas fight. 
 Mercie no Mercie me, no more willfhow. 
 Now doth it ebbe, where it was wont to flow. 
 
 But thou whofe Blood is hot, and in thy Prime, 
 And daily ioyefi thy Cynthias Companie : 
 Rowfe thee, and of right Eagle fltew thefigiie, 
 And with thy Verfe (thy flight) cut throtigh the skie. 
 Whilfi I mine Albas abfenceflill bewaile, 
 Whofe fight being lofi, my fences needs muflfaile. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 14 
 
Afi An/wer. 
 
 EVterpe, nor the Mufes (her fweet Mates) 
 Pernaffus drops infufe into my Braine: 
 My table is tiot furnijht with rare Cates, 
 (Daintie Conceits) which come from Poets vaine: 
 No /acred Furie me infpires i'endite. 
 But what firjl comes in braine (Jlraight) that I write. 
 
 Thy Lawrel greene that thou hajl lou'dfo long, 
 
 Dothflorijhjlill, nor fatall Cy^xtKQ tis ; 
 
 Tofeare too much, thy f elf e thou much dofl wrong, 
 
 And oner-much to grieue, thou dost amijfe. 
 
 No Sunne but falls as well as it doth rife, 
 And who (in Loue) Hues without Contraries? 
 
 Though Alba's gone, yetflte'le againe returne, 
 Then write, thatfhe may know thou dofl her minde: 
 What Ladies promife. Honor will performe. 
 Nor thinke that Beautie akvaies is vnkinde : 
 
 Alba is milde ; Mercie will Mercie fhow, 
 
 No Riuer ebs, but it againe muflfloiv. 
 
 I am at befl and in my youthfull prime. 
 
 My louely Cynthias Fauour I enioy : 
 
 Yet think not but my Day is darke fometime, 
 
 As I do tafie of BlifJe,fo feele I noy; 
 
 Thus chirpe one RoBIN Redbrest to another. 
 Ah do not thy rare Gifts through for row f mother. 
 
 R. A. 
 
L' 
 
 TO THE PICTVRE OF 
 
 HIS MISTRIS. 
 
 Ike to the Porpofe (Tempefts prophefier) 
 I play before the ftorme of my fad Teares : 
 Or as the Swanne whofe fweetefb Note is higher, 
 When Death is neereft, which he gently beares : 
 So fing I, now that Alba mine is parted, 
 Who hath me left difliude and quite vnharted. 
 
 Turne inke from Blacke to Gore in bloodiwife, 
 Paper from white change thou to deadly pale, 
 Whilft I my Readers eyes do rumatife 
 With brinifh drops to heare this wofuU Tale. 
 
 This wofull tale, where forrow is the ground, 
 Whofe bottom's fuch, as (nere) the Depth is found. 
 
 But vnto whom fhall I (now) dedicate 
 
 This meftfull verfe, this mournfull Elegie ? 
 
 Euen to my cruell Miftreffe CovNTERFAlTE, 
 
 Of Beauties fhape, the right Eternitie. 
 
 Then to her PiCTVRE I prefent this verfe. 
 
 Of my flaine Hart (dead for pure loue) the Herfe. 
 
 Here may I touch, kiffe, talke, doe what I pleafe 
 Without Controle, Frowne, Anger, or Difdaine 
 To breake ones minde in griefe yet tis fome e[ase], 
 And boldly fpeake without replie againe. 
 Ah that I were Pigmalion is this place, 
 That Venus, me (as him fhe did) would grace 
 B 
 
 17 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Alba CrudeliffLma. 
 
 Loe here the Months Mind of my deare bought 
 Which (once a Month) I vowd to memorife, (Loue, 
 
 When firft I fought the Crvel Faire to moue, 
 Who alwaies did my fighs and teares defpife. 
 This muft my Sabboth be, and Holiday, 
 On which I (to my Goddeffe) vfe to pray. 
 
 This Feaft I folemnife for her fweete fake, 
 (In abfence hers) as if fhe prefent were, 
 For my proud Choice, who pitie none doth take 
 On me, that liue twixt Hope, defpaire and feare. 
 (Deare Alba) then accept this Sacrifice, 
 Thefe dutious Teares, the Tribute of mine eyes. 
 
 Thinke how perplext fore PiCTVRE thine I ftand ; 
 
 Thinke of the depth of my fad Paffion ; 
 
 How I haue alwaies bin at thy command ; 
 
 How none but thee my thoughts ftill mufe vpon. 
 Thinke how I euer tendred thy Good name, 
 Conferuing with my deareft Blood the fame. 
 
 [Thinjke how I ftill of thee had due refpeft, 
 [Thougjh thou (at all times) didft me vfe too hard ; 
 [And whom] withouten caufe thou didft reie6t, 
 [For my] good meaning too too meane reward) 
 [Alas] thefe wrongs which I endured haue, 
 [Wil]t remember me : Nought els I craue. 
 
 Troinouant. Since 
 
 18 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Since fpightful Fortune (fore againft my will) 
 
 Hath drawn me farre from place where thou doft Hue : 
 
 And that of force I muft obey her ftill, 
 
 (Although to Hue fo doth me deadly grieue) 
 
 Yet though my Bodie is farre off, My Hart 
 Is ftill with thee, from whence it nere (hall part. 
 
 Only of thee (fweete Ladie) this I craue, 
 
 That till our thred of life fhall be vnfpun, 
 
 Thou wilt vouchfafe me in thy mind to haue, 
 
 And not forget the Loue twixt vs begun. 
 But in thy Hart the fame for to repofe, 
 As I (the like) in inward foule doe clofe. 
 
 This only can (ftill) me in life conferue, 
 Thy gracious Fauour and thy Pitie fweete : 
 This is the pretious Balme, the pure Preferue, 
 Which I doe hope to finde, and ftill will feeke : 
 
 This makes me Hue, although with great vnreft, 
 
 Since of thy felfe I haue bin difpoffeft. 
 
 Thou art my Hope, my Hauen, my comfort chiefe, 
 
 On thee alone, on none els I relie : 
 
 Only to thee I come to begge reliefe ; 
 
 In thee it is if I fliall Hue or die. 
 
 (Dearest) remember tis a Gift more rare. 
 Constant to be, then to be counted Faire. 
 
 B I Two 
 
 19 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Two fparkling ftars, fine golde, pure Ebonie, 
 From whence Loue takes his Brands, his Shafts & Bow, 
 Two daintie Apples, which though hid from eye, 
 Through vaile of Lawne, through lawne more faire do 
 A cherrie Hp with luorie teeth mofb white, (fhow : 
 
 Where Cupid begs within that Grate fo bright. 
 
 Vermilion Flowers that grow in Heauen aboue ; 
 Snow, which no wet can marre, nor Sunne can melt, 
 Right Margarite Pearle which alwaies Orient proue, 
 A Voyce, that Hart of marble makes to fwelt, 
 A Smile that calmes the raging of the Sea, 
 And Skie more cleere makes then was wont to bee. 
 
 Graue, ftaied wifdome in yong and tender yeares, 
 A ftately Gate, and Port maiefticall, 
 A Carriage (where in vertue (borne) appeares, 
 Lookes that difdaine, and yet delight withall. 
 Numbers of Fauours, Beauties infinite. 
 With Modeftie, chafte, pure, and milde Delight. 
 
 An humble Soule within a Bodie rich, 
 A lowly Thought within a conquering Hart : 
 Thefe are the workes which I commend fo mich 
 Which Heauens & Love haue framde by curious Art : 
 All thefe I once enioyde : but they being gone. 
 My Note is changde, my Mirth is turnde to Mone. 
 
 Ah 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ah might I once perfwaded be at laft, 
 Thefe skalding fighs of mine fhould haue an end, 
 That I for Sower, fome Sweet (at length) might tafte, 
 And that the Crvel Faire would not contend 
 Euer againft me ; I then would (gently) take, 
 And fuffer all thefe wrongs for her fweete fake. 
 
 Too well I know (and I confeffe the fame) 
 That too too loftie is my proud Defire : 
 My foaring Thoughts, deferuing mickle blame. 
 And I, ore bold, prefume too high t'afpire : 
 
 Yet ftill (me thinkes; mine Ayme, being not bafe, 
 
 I fhould deferue fome little tynie Grace. 
 
 Say then (fweete Love) for thou with Alba mine, 
 
 Doft foiorne, wherefoeuer ftie doth bide) 
 
 Say am I like, that, to obtaine in time. 
 
 From which I now am fo farre off, and wide .' 
 
 Ah fay the truth, doth fhe once thinke of me .' 
 Doth fhe but wifh that I with her might be ? 
 
 Ah had not Reafon my Defires refrainde, 
 I had, my Thoughts deare Soueraigne, feene ere this, 
 Whofe Grace I fought (but booties) to haue gainde, 
 The only ioy I in this world would wilh. 
 
 Rather would I fee thofe chafte beautious Eyes, 
 Then chufe to be in matchleffe Paradife. 
 
 B3 As 
 
ALBA. 
 
 As Chriftall Glaffe in which the Sunne doth fhine, 
 I like mine ALBAS Angels heauenly feature : 
 But when (he deadly wounds this Corfe of mine, 
 I lothe her more then any murthring Creature : 
 
 More then a Theefe that robs and ftealeth pelfe, 
 I hate her, when fhe fteales me from my felfe. 
 
 My hart is grieu'd caufe it doth difagree : 
 For whilft my Minde to loue her doth deuife, 
 And thinks her worthie honored for to bee, 
 A Sdainfull thought through Hatred doth arife, 
 
 Which skornes y* one fo Rich, a Theefe fhuld proue, 
 That one fo Faire, a Murthereffe is in loue. 
 
 I know not what to feeke, nor what I fhould. 
 Yet haue I fought till I haue loft my fenfe : 
 Although truth to confeffe, faine loue I would, 
 And yet not die for this too Cruell wench. 
 
 Betwixt thefe two fain would I find a Meane, (treme. 
 
 Alas, Women haue none, they alwaies keepe Th' ex- 
 Then how for me ift poflible to loue, 
 If my beft Alba once from me be tooke .' 
 How fhall I Hue when thoufand Deaths I proue .' 
 When not this one (the leaft) I fcarce can brooke. 
 
 Ah woe is me, a double mixt Defire, 
 
 To hafte my Death the fooner doth confpire. 
 
 Such 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Such is the rare perfe6lion of fweete Beautie 
 Of my faire Alba, my fole choife Delight : 
 That if that any Painter doth his dutie, 
 To (hadow forth her Lufter pafling bright, 
 
 He lofeth both his labour and his time, 
 
 As one ore bold, fo high a ftep to clime. 
 
 For whilft he giues his minde attentiuely. 
 
 And ftudieth to match Nature with his Art, 
 
 Marking her Feature with a watchfull eye. 
 
 To portray forth mod liuely every part : 
 
 Such brightnes comes from her, fuch gliftring rayes, 
 As he's ftruck blinde, and darkned goes his wayes. 
 
 This is the caufe, that who in hand doth take, 
 
 In curious wife her pearleffe Counterfate, 
 
 Hoping himfelfe immortall fo to make. 
 
 Doth fall into like dangerous eftate : 
 
 Thinking to fhadow her, he fhadowed is. 
 And fo his eyes, and purpofe he doth miffe. 
 
 That, fhe were drawne in midft of Hart it were 
 Far better, and (my felfe) haue plafte her fo) 
 For though in darke flie hidden doth appeere. 
 Yet vnto me fhe faire and bright doth fhow, 
 
 My Hart's the Boord, where limnde you may her fee ; 
 
 My Teares the Oyle, my Blood the Colours bee. 
 
 B 4 Fano. Bright 
 
ALBA. ; 
 
 Bright were the Heauens, and huflit was euery winde, 
 
 Cleere was the day, when as mine Alba faire, 
 
 Brought forth with ioy {Lucina being kinde) 
 
 A daintie Babe, for feature paffing rare, 
 
 Adorning all the world with this glad welth, 
 A gift t'enrich the World, Vs, and her felf. 
 
 What time (he was in trauell of this Childe, 
 No thunder, lightning, nor no ftorme was heard : 
 But all was quiet, peacefull, calme and milde. 
 As if the skies t' offend her were afeared, 
 
 Whilfh th' earth attended on her, and the Sea, 
 As though they ftaid at her command to be. 
 
 Then did the Windes (not vfmg fo before) 
 
 A gentle gale blow calmely euery where, 
 
 And fild the blisfull Aire with fweetes great ftore : 
 
 Each bird and fowle Ihewing a merry cheere, 
 
 Whilft that bleft Day a double Beautie found. 
 One from the Sunne, the other here on ground. 
 
 This made the haughtie proud Oceanus, 
 
 To open all his wealth in outward fhow : 
 
 And finding my faire Miftreffe honored thus, 
 
 He made his fwelling wanes in richnes flow, 
 
 Whilft that a Margarite brought forth a Perle, 
 A precious ftone, a daintie louely Gerle. 
 
 As 
 
 24 
 
ALBA. 
 
 As I haue liu'd, I Hue, and Hue fo will, 
 
 With felfe fame baite that LoVE for me did lay. 
 
 When he his net (to traine me in by skill) 
 
 Did open fet, to bring me to his bay : 
 
 Only that I might figh for thee alone, 
 
 And fue for Grace, although Grace found I none. 
 
 Then Alba let it not difpleafen thee. 
 Nor make thou (how of anger for the fame : 
 Though my fweete Bonds fo ftrait and inward bee, 
 Since I (not thou) doe beare thereof the paine ; 
 
 And that my loue to thee is growne fo neere, 
 
 As then my life I value it more deere. 
 
 Thine was I firft, and thine at laft I am. 
 
 And thine I will be to the world his end : 
 
 For thee into this world I willing came. 
 
 And leaue this world I will, fore thee offend. 
 
 Meane time thy matchles vertues I will blafe, 
 And fpend my life, fighing for thee alwaies. 
 
 Ah Love twas thou that tookft my libertie. 
 
 And of Freeman inforft me be a flaue, 
 
 Whilft Hers to be, and thine, moft willinglie 
 
 I am content this feruile yoke to haue. 
 
 Loves prifoner then, begging at Beauties gate, 
 Some Almes beflow fweet Ladie for Gods fake. 
 
 My 
 
ALBA. 
 
 My mounting Minde, my neuer ftaide Conceit 
 Hath built a ftately Caftle in the Aire : 
 Which loue his lightning Fire, nor his fierce thret, 
 Nor Fate, nor Fortune, nor ought elfe doth feare. 
 Founded it is vpon two running Wheeles, 
 The Gates of duft and winde (ftill turning reeks.) 
 
 Thoufands of Motes are digd about the fame. 
 Which are capritious Humors fond and Toyes : 
 The Skouts and Guards thereof, Hopes dead and vaine ; 
 The Food therein preparde, falfe fleeting loyes ; 
 The fencing Walles are framde of fierce Defire, 
 Which dreads nor Seas, nor earth, nor force, nor fire. 
 
 The Armours, framed are in running Head, 
 Of foolifh Boldnes, and of penfiue Feare, 
 Which None knowes how they fhould be managed. 
 Nor how the fame gainft others right to beare : 
 The Shot, Munition, and Artillerie, 
 Are diuers Thoughts which in the Fancie lie. 
 
 The Caftellane doth fight againft himfelfe, 
 Hauing nought els his fouldiers for to pay. 
 But with Ambition which is all his wealth : 
 ludge then my ftate, and marke my firmed flay. 
 
 O Love how long learne fhall I in thy Schoole ? 
 
 The more I learne, I (ftill) doe proue more Foole.. 
 
 Swift 
 
 26 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Swift roling Spheares, cleere burning Lamps diuine, 
 That with your beames difgrace the glorious Sunne : 
 Faire ladders by which I to Heauen clime, 
 And by your Influence this rare courfe doe runne. 
 Ah, if not quickly hither you returne. 
 Too late (in vaine) my loffe you then fhall mourne. 
 
 My Spirits for you did feeke to ope each way, 
 That you might paffage make into my Hart, 
 And ioyfull were they when you there did flay. 
 But forrowfull when you from thence did part. 
 And now my Soule is fummond by Defpaire, 
 For want of you his only Hope and Care. 
 
 All comfortles I Hue here all alone, 
 Banifht from Mirth, and Bondflaue vnto Noy : 
 Feeding my felfe (now you from hence are gone) 
 With fweet Remembrance of fore paffed loy. 
 
 And with kinde Hope : thefe twaine together flriue 
 To keepe me, gainft defpairing Thoughts aliue. 
 
 The firft, doth Albas felfe (for my reliefe) 
 
 Prefent (of which I am now difpoffefl) 
 
 The other doth abate each fwelling griefe. 
 
 Which els my Hart would ouermuch molefl. 
 Ah pleafmg Hope, ah gratious Memorie, 
 You make me Hue, which els of force fhould die. 
 
 Without 
 
 27 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Without my Sunne, I Hue in darkfome fliade, 
 Whilft I with fighing fpend my hatefull dales, 
 And in LoVES Sea without my Pilot wade 
 Whilft ftorme my leaking Barke to finke affaies : 
 I languifh malcontent, deepe drownde in Care, 
 Witnes mine Eyes, that running fountaines are. 
 
 Thou Northweft Village farre from mine abode, 
 Which doft enioy my Miftris prefence faire : 
 Ah happie art thou where fhe makes her rode. 
 And where fhe bides whofe felfe hath no compare. 
 Happie art thou, but moft vnhappie I, 
 Thou doft poffeffe, I want her companie. 
 
 Faine would I (for long fince I vow did take) 
 
 As painfull Pilgrim in deuoutfuU wife, 
 
 A voyage in that Holy Land to make, 
 
 At my fweet Saint, her Shrine to facrifife, 
 
 Where (for Oblation) I my Hart would offer, 
 Not doubting but fhe would accept the proffer. 
 
 But to no end I wifh, it is in vaine, 
 
 A leffer Fauour fhould contenten mee : 
 
 It fhould fufiSfe me if I might but gaine 
 
 A fight of her. Her once more for to fee. 
 Alack, this is not ouermuch I craue, 
 Only her fight, not her, tis I would haue. 
 
 Sad 
 
 aS 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Sad Teares, that from my meftfuU Hart doe runne, 
 Thruft forth through watrie Eyes by Sorrow kinde : 
 If you into LoVES paths by chance fhall come, 
 Where he doth walke, and pitie thinke to finde : 
 In vaine then doe you ftirre abrode, in vaine 
 You lofe your trauaile, labour and your paine. 
 
 For whilft the way vnto an Humour new 
 You open wide, fierce Alba fhutteth clofe 
 Her bread from mercie, making me to rew, 
 And for your Friendfliip, counts you as her foes : 
 Wherein, fhe doth a damd Example (how. 
 Forcing her Hart gainft Confcience here to goe. 
 
 Then wofull teares what will you doe as now ? 
 Love's dead and gone, all pitie is exilde : 
 Skornd is my Conftancie and loyall Vow, 
 And through Difdaine I daily am reuilde. 
 
 My Hopes are blafted, and as withered feeme, 
 Whilft ftill Difgraces fliew before me greene. 
 
 Come then, turhe backe, and with me fecretlie 
 Bewaile my torment, leaft my Hart appeere 
 A fenfeles ftone, through proud Impietie : 
 And my blind eyes a fountaine running cleere. 
 And fince not any will our Griefes bemone. 
 Lets fwallow downe our Sorrowes all alone. 
 
 Love 
 
 29 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Love hath me bound once more to make the way, 
 From whence my Hart hath neuer yet declinde : 
 And doubts leaft He, from righteft paths fhould ftray, 
 Becaufe fo weake and crafed I him finde : 
 
 And marueile none, he wants his wonted fight. 
 How can he iournie then but Sauns dehght. 
 
 The fillie Wretch lookes vp, yet nought can fee ; 
 As who fhould fay, my Helpe comes from Aboue : 
 Yet grieues his feruice is not tooke boun gree, 
 Since tis refinde from Thought of pureft Loue. 
 My Minde doth burne in froft, but not in fire, 
 Through vncouth paffion barde from his Defire. 
 
 My Hart is like a Widower that's difdainde ; 
 My foule a Figure of"a Malcontent, 
 To fee that LoVE thus vildly fhould be ftainde, 
 Not to requite, where nought but LovE is ment. 
 
 But I doe fee no pitie is in fpite, 
 
 Where Malice raignes, Defert is banifht quite. 
 
 My Soule vpon my Hart for this doth plaine. 
 My Hart (againe) my Fancie doth accufe : 
 My Fancie faith, mine Eyes were too too blame. 
 Their outer-boldnes wrought this great Abufe. 
 Alas poore Eyes, too dearly doe you pay. 
 When for one Fault your Light is tooke away. 
 
 Thy 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Thy whitenes (Alba) I may well compare 
 
 To Delia, when no clowde doth her obfcure : 
 
 Thy haires to Phoebus lightning in the Aire, 
 
 When he doth fliine with greater Lufter pure. 
 Thy diamond eyes, like to a froftie Night, 
 Where fparkling ftars doe fhooting take their flight. 
 
 Thy cheekes Aurora like, when with her Dew, 
 The Rofe and Lillie flie doth fprinkle fweete : 
 Refembling drops that feeded Pearle doe fliew. 
 As if that double Beautie did them greete. 
 
 Thy Hand, no hand, it is the daintie Gloue, 
 Which Pfyches ware, when fhe was wed to Love. 
 
 What art thou, but all Faire in outward (how. 
 But inwardly th'art Cruel and vnkinde : 
 In thy faire Face all Fauours fweet doe grow, 
 But Thornes and Briars in thy Hart I finde : 
 
 With fhow of fweet thou lur'ft and doft entife, 
 But bitterly thou mak'ft them pay the price. 
 
 Thou cruell lead'ft my life to difmall Death, 
 My hope from all her loues thou doft confine : 
 Thou art the corde that ftopft my vitall breath. 
 And Armes with Armes againft me doft conioyne. 
 
 Thou only art the She that's fenft with hate. 
 
 And doft thy felfe of pitie naked make. 
 
 Tried 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Tirde with a Burthen of Extremities, 
 
 Which breakes, nor bowes, my wofull Hart in twaine, 
 
 And checkt with chiefeft Mate of Miferies, 
 
 I linger out my lothed life in paine. 
 
 Then death, not life, I may this liuing call, 
 Where ceafeles Noy, not ioy, doth me befall. 
 
 Black gloomy Thoughts on me doe tyrannife, 
 
 And to my Soule appoynted faithfuU Guides, 
 
 Doe her deceiue, with her they fubtellife. 
 
 Nor in this ill to comfort me None bides. 
 
 All my beft Hopes are at an Ebbing low, 
 
 Whilft ftealing yeares, with griefes encreafing grow. 
 
 What fhall I doe ? fhall I to reafon turne ? 
 
 Oh no, for her I too much haue offended. 
 
 What, fhal I goe to LoVE, and to him mourne 
 
 For aide, and promife all fhall be amended ? 
 Alas, it were in vaine, and labour loft. 
 Where he doth promife, he decdueth moft. 
 
 See then ye fond Defires, what you haue done, 
 By headftrong Will, fage Reafon to depraue : 
 But what fhall I as now refolue vpon .' 
 Whom fhall I truft ? of whom helpe fliall I craue .' 
 Euen her who firft betraide me will I truft, 
 She can but be (as (he hath been) vniuft. 
 
 Come 
 
 3-' 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Come gentle fleepe (fweet fleepe) my welcome Frend, 
 
 Come comfort me with fhadow of my Loue, 
 
 And her, in vifion quickly to me fend, 
 
 For whom thefe griefes and bitter pangs I proue. 
 Black Night be thou far darker then thou art, 
 Thy chiefefl Beautie is to be moft darke. 
 
 By thee my peace and pleafure doth arife, 
 Whilft I through thy deceit (yet liking me) 
 Doe feeme to ioy with her in louely wife, 
 Although from hence (God knowes) far off fhe be. 
 
 Such is the pleafure that herein I take, 
 
 As more I could not ioy, were I awake. 
 
 Thou (hewft to me the trammels of her Haire, 
 
 Clept SCALA COELi, locks of pure Delight : 
 
 Her fnowy Neck, the caufe of my fweete Care ; 
 
 Her eyes like Saphires fparkling in the night : 
 With other fights, vnfeemly to be knowne : 
 Al thefe fweet fleep, through thee to me are (howne. 
 
 Only in this (my thinks) th'art too vnkinde. 
 That when thou partft from me, all ioy doth parte : 
 Nor any fuch thing left with me I finde. 
 Which then afrefh renewes mine inward fmart. 
 Then fmce her felfe (I waking) cannot haue, 
 Sleeping let me her fhadow of thee craue. 
 
 C Like 
 
 33 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Like as the painefull Marchant venterer, 
 That is to leaue his fweeteft natiue foyle, 
 Being bound vnto fome ftrangy Countrie far, 
 Whom hope of gaine doth reftles make to toyle ; 
 Taking his leaue of his deare Familie, 
 Through feare & hope, makes them to liue or die. 
 
 But afterward when he hath croft the Seas, 
 
 Fraughting his fliip with richeft marchandife, 
 
 He then begins to frolicke. Hearts at eafe. 
 
 And hoyfeth vp his failes in cheerefull wife, 
 Searching by skill the fhorteft cut to take, 
 Of this his wearie iourney, end to make. 
 
 When being almoft tired, at the laft 
 
 He is in kenning of his wifhed Home, 
 
 And when hauing of his Natiue Aire a tafte, 
 
 Twixt ioy and griefe, his very foule doth grone. 
 
 For griefe, his Countrie he fo long did mis, 
 
 For ioy, that Home he now returned is. 
 
 So fare I : for when I doe call to minde 
 
 The time in which my Libertie was loft, 
 
 I fhed fait teares, to thinke how I did binde 
 
 My felfe, being free, as flaue vnto my coft : 
 But when I hope one day I fhall be free, 
 (Through my fweet Saint) my hart doth leap for glee. 
 
 As 
 
 34 
 
ALBA. 
 
 As many fierle darts as loue on high, 
 
 Dingde downe on Giants in his angrie mood, 
 
 So many whirle about my Bodie nigh, 
 
 As longing caufeles for my guiltles blood, 
 
 The frighted Aire raine Afhes downe apace. 
 And cheerefull funne flies hence to hide his face. 
 
 Thus (land I in a Maze of Miferie, 
 My Heart (feeing nought but fignes of prefent death) 
 •Seekes how with clipped winges away to flie, 
 And faine would fcape to faue his vitall breath. 
 Ah pouer wretch, but how ift pofllble .' 
 I know not how, nor he himfelfe can tell. 
 
 The world's his foe, and LovE doth him betraie, 
 
 Defpaire of helpe, his fenfes doth confound. 
 
 His curfed Guide (for nonce) leades him aftraie, 
 
 Fortune accufeth him on no fure ground. 
 
 And which doth gaule him moft, & moft doth grieue. 
 His Miftris rafh, gainft him doth iudgement giue. 
 
 He Mercie cries, and calleth for his Booke, 
 But proude Difdaine doth flop the Judges cares. 
 So that on him fhe'le not fo much as looke. 
 And thus from Barre, they quicklie doe him beare. 
 From Albas prefence is he quite debarde, 
 Exilde from Her, this is his fentence harde. 
 
 C 2 Great 
 
 35 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Great ftate and pomp this princely pallace Ihowes, 
 And richly euery chamber hanged is : 
 Mine entertainment daily fweeter growes^ 
 What Hart or thought can geffe, I doe not miffe. 
 
 Chiefly the Walkes, and Gardens wondrous been. 
 As they a fecond Paradife doe feeme. 
 
 Yet though I finde this kindnes pafsing great, 
 With hunting, hawking, fowling, and fuch fport : 
 For all our feafling and our daintie meate, 
 Our mirth and Mufick in moft pleafmg fort : 
 For all thefe pleafures, yet Hue I in paine. 
 Since Her I want, for whom I wifh in vaine. 
 
 What others loue, I loathe, and quite diflike. 
 
 And though I am in worthie companie. 
 
 Yet flill (my thinks) I am retired quite. 
 
 Into a place of matchles miferie. 
 
 Into an vncouth wood and wildernes. 
 
 Where liue fuch Beails as pray on Sauagenes, 
 
 And if that long from her I be depriu'd, 
 My life fhall be like flowers that want the Sun : 
 So fhall I yeeld my Ghofl as one difliu'd, 
 VVhilfl my threds life fhall quickly be vnfpun. 
 Go skalding fighs then, flie vnto her fliraite, 
 Say that for life or death on her I waite. 
 
 You 
 
 36 
 
ALBA. 
 
 You (lately Hils, you princelike Ruins olde, 
 Which proudly in your laft remainders fhow, 
 And who as yet the name of faire Rome holde, 
 To whom did once the whole world homage owe. 
 
 The place where (now) fo many Relikes lie, 
 
 Of Holy foules honord for Chrift to die. 
 
 You Theaters, you Conquerors Arches faire, 
 Coloffes huge, and mafsie Fillers great. 
 Triumphant Showes of more then Glory rare, 
 Where Viflorie with pomp did take their feate : 
 Lo what a wonder ftrange in you is wrought, 
 You now are dull, confumde (as twere) to nought. 
 
 Though conquering War, doth make in time to come. 
 
 Many things florifh, and with Fame to rife : 
 
 Yet in the end when all is paft and done, 
 
 Time doth All this confume in fpitefull wife. 
 
 All Monuments, all Monarchs that haue been. 
 Time in the end deflroyes, and \veares out cleane. 
 
 And fince tis fo, I will contented Hue 
 
 In difcontent : for if that Time can make 
 
 An end of All, and end to each thing giue, 
 
 (May be) fome order he for me will take, 
 
 (May be) in th'end when I fhall tried bee 
 To th'vtmoft, I my guerdon iuft may fee. 
 
 C 3 Roma. Alba 
 
 37 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Alba thinkft thou, thy Month fhall ftill be May, 
 And that thy Colour frefh, ftill faire will be ? 
 That Time and Fortune will not weare away 
 Beautie, which God and Nature lends to thee ? 
 
 Yes, yes, that white and red, thy Cheekes nov/ (how, 
 Shall quicklie change, and blacke and yellow grow. 
 
 The Giniper the longer it doth flower, 
 
 The older ftill it waxeth, bowing ftill, 
 
 And that fweete face of thine, which now hath power 
 
 Whole worlds with wondering at the fame to fill. 
 
 Shall (though it now fauns blemifli be) a Staine, 
 Hereafter with thicke wrinkeled Clifts remaine. 
 
 Great care to keepe this Beautie fraile muft be. 
 
 Which we (God knowes) a fmall time doe enioy, 
 
 Doe what we can, we lofe it fuddenle ; 
 
 Why, then, being courted ftiouldft thou feeme fo coy. 
 Fortunes wings made of Times feathers neere ftay. 
 But eare thou them canft meafure, flit away. 
 
 Then be not ouer hard, like changeles Fate, 
 
 But let my Cries force thee (at laft) relent, 
 
 Doe not oppofe thy felfe too obftinate 
 
 Gainft him, whofe time to honor thee is fpent : 
 
 Ah let me fpeake the trueth (though fomewhat bold) 
 Though now th'art young, thou one day muft be old. 
 
 Riuers 
 
 38 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Riuers of gorie blood into the Sea, 
 
 In fled of Waters fhall moft fwiftlie runne ; 
 
 The hugie Ocean drie as land fhall be, 
 
 And darke as pitch fhall fhew the gliftering Sunne : 
 Love fhall of Loue, and kindenes be depriude, 
 And vaftie world (fauns people) fhall abide. 
 
 The Night fhall lightfome be as Day mofl plaine, 
 The Heauens with their coloured cloudes fhall fall, 
 Fore Love in me, a new Idea frame, 
 Or my firme Heart, from Alba alter fhall, 
 
 Ah fore I change, let horror ftop my breth, 
 
 Vnworthie Her, vnworthie of this earth. 
 
 As heretofore, fo ftill I will her loue, 
 
 Nere fhall my conftant Heart lie languifhing. 
 
 In hope another Beautie for to proue, 
 
 Which flitting fancie to mine eyes might bring : 
 
 My faith Acanthus like fhall flourifh greene ; 
 
 Which th'older tis, the frefher flill is feene. 
 
 I am no glaffe, but perfe6t Diamound, 
 My conftant minde holdes ftill where firfl it tooke. 
 Though not my felfe, my foule's in Englifh ground, 
 Italians lookes, but not there Loves I brooke. 
 
 The Globe like World is round, and hath no end, 
 Such is my Faith to her, my Fairefl frend. 
 
 C 4 Fano Golde's 
 
 39 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Gold's changde to Lead, and Emmeralds into Glaffe ; 
 Lillies proue Weedes, and Rofes Nettles bee : 
 No harmles Beafts now through the fields doe paffe, 
 To feede on Hill or Valleys fhade we fee : 
 
 Wilde Tigers fierce, and rauenous Lions fell, 
 In open Plaine, and cooly Groues doe dwell. 
 
 Infteade of milde and pleafing Accents fweete. 
 From hollow Places fearfuU Voices found : 
 Eccho amongft the craggie rockes doth weepe. 
 And (heauie) makes her noyfe with fighs rebound. 
 Riuers againft their wonted courfe do runne, 
 The Moone lookes black, eclipfed is the Sunne. 
 
 The Sallow (hakes his boughes, and inward grieues. 
 The Cypreffe (hew'th as if he fickly were. 
 And (melancholy) bares his lothed leaues, 
 A figne prefaging fome great caufe of feare. 
 
 Phcebus no more doth combe his treffes faire. 
 But careles lets them feltred hang in th'aire. 
 
 Ghofbs through the Citie ghaftfuUy appeere. 
 And hideous Ihapes the mindes of men afright : 
 No Day we haue, but darknes euery where, 
 And turn'd the World is topfie turuy quite : 
 
 The caufe of all this change is my faire Loue, 
 Since to the countrie (hence) fhe doth remoue. 
 
 On 
 
 40 
 
ALBA. 
 
 On bended knees low groueling on the ground, 
 Before the Crvel Faire I proftrate lay : 
 But what I fought of Her could not be found, 
 My kinde requeft was dafht with ruffe Denay. 
 With me fhe fharply gan expoftulate, 
 Nor would flie once pitie my hard Eftate. 
 
 Teares I did fhed, but teares I Ihed in vaine ; 
 
 Vowes I did make, my Vowes (he did reiedt ; 
 
 Prayers I offred. Prayers fhe did difdaine ; 
 
 Prefents I fent, but them fli' would not accept. 
 
 If teares, vowes, prayers, nor prefents can doe good, 
 What then remaines, but for to offer blood .' 
 
 Then Cruell take this Blood, Oblations Fee, 
 Which at thy ftirine from Hart I facrifife : 
 I know twill doe thee good and liketh thee. 
 And I beftow it in mofl: hartie wife. 
 
 Neuer fo much I of my life did make. 
 
 But that I could difpend it for thy fake. 
 
 What needft thou then ad water to the Seas, 
 Beames to the Sunne, or light vnto the Day, 
 When I more readie am, if fo thou pleafe, 
 My felfe to kill, then thou my life to flay .' 
 
 Ah let me know thy minde, thus vex not flill, 
 
 A kinde of Pitie tis, quickly to kill. 
 
 In 
 
 / 41 
 
ALBA. 
 
 In ftately Bed twixt fheetes more white then fnow, 
 Where late my Pearle, mine Alba faire did lie, 
 I reftleiTe vp and downe toffe to and fro, 
 Whilft trickling teares diftill from blubbred eye. 
 Ah gentle fleepe do thou deuife fome Meane, 
 For comfort mine, whilft I of her ftiall dreame. 
 
 You downy Pillowes, you which but of late. 
 
 Her daintie felfe did kindly entertaine, 
 
 (Once) of two louing Bodies charge do take. 
 
 By your foft yeelding, call her backe againe : 
 For fhe is gone, and Troynouant hath left, 
 And being gone, my hart with her hath reft. 
 
 For both of vs here's roume enough to fee. 
 We both in reft with eafe may here remaine. 
 And here two foules (vnited) one, ftiall bee. 
 Two bodies (ioynd together) One, not twaine. 
 But tis in vaine, for were fhe here I know. 
 Though you agreede, agree flie would not fo. 
 
 Yet call her back, and pray to her for me. 
 
 For I am hoarfe with praying ouer long. 
 
 Ah to no purpofe tis to call, I fee. 
 
 She cannot heare, flie too too farre is gon. 
 Yet will I ftill her praifes haroldife, 
 And mongft the beautious Saints her canonife. 
 
 Heare 
 
 42 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Heare me, a Martyr for religious Loue, 
 Thou Faire Tormentor, (Motiue of my paine) 
 All Racks and Tortors gainfl: my patience proue, 
 And when th'haft done, begin afrefli againe. 
 Wearie flialt thou be of tormenting me, 
 Before I grieued at thefe plagues will be. 
 
 Too deare I prife thy beautie to repent, 
 
 Or wifh I had not fuch fower ftormes endur'd : 
 
 Though I thy hard hart finde nere to relent, 
 
 Cuftome and time, to woes haue me inur'd. 
 What ill fo great but I would willing take, 
 And beare the brunt affur'd of thy fweet fake. 
 
 The fweet remembrance of thy fight of yore, 
 
 Th' only companion is of my deare life, 
 
 Thy prefence was, which abfent I adore, 
 
 My paradife and place of ioy moft rife. 
 
 So I alone am not, though None's with mee. 
 And was in Heauen, when I thy face did fee. 
 
 But this thou thinkft not of, this is leaft part 
 Now of thy minde, nor haft thou hereof care : 
 This neuer comes God knowes into thy hart. 
 But as heat's ioynd with fire, and breath with aire : 
 So crueltie in Womens ftomacks dwels. 
 Which with Difdaine (as Furie) alwaies fwels. 
 
 Ye 
 
 43 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ye Valleys deep withouten bottome found ; 
 
 Ye Hils that match with height the azure skie ; 
 
 Ye Caues by Nature hollow vnder ground, 
 
 Where quiet reft and filence alwaies lie, 
 
 Thou gloomy Aire which euer to the fight 
 Bringft darknes ftill, but neuer cheerfull light. 
 
 Ye vncouth Paths, ye folitarie walks, 
 Ye breackneck Rocks, moft ghaftlie for to fee. 
 Ye dreadfull Dens where neuer any ftalks. 
 And where fcarce hiffing Serpents dare to bee : 
 Ye fatall Vaults where murdred Corfes lie, 
 Haunted with hatefuU fprites continuallie. 
 
 Ye Wilderneffes and ye Deferts wilde. 
 Ye ftrangie Shores nere yet inhabited. 
 Ye Places from all pleafures quite exilde. 
 Where fad Melancholy and Griefe is fled, 
 
 Heare me, who am a fhadow and a Ghoft, 
 
 Damd with eternall forrow to be croft. 
 
 Heare me, fince I am come for to bewaile, 
 Mongft you, my Faith, my Conftancie, and Loue, 
 I hope with my lowd Cries and drerie Tale, 
 Though not the Heauens, yet Hell at leaft to moue : 
 Since more the Griefes are which within me grow, 
 Then Heauen hath pleafures, or Hel, Plagues below. 
 
 How 
 
 44 
 
ALBA. 
 
 How can the fhip be guided without Helme, 
 
 The ftorme arifing in a troubled Sea ? 
 
 Needs muft the churlifh Wanes it ouerwhelme, 
 
 Needs muft it drowne, and caft away muft bee. 
 How ftiould I liue, and not my life enioy .' 
 Feeding on Griefe, what ftiall I tafte but Noy ? 
 
 Ah Cupid thinke vpon thy feruant true, 
 
 I craue for my Deferts but fome reward : 
 
 I feeke mine Owne, not more then is my due, 
 
 Hate for Goodwill to reape is too too hard. 
 If I for Well with 111 am payd againe, 
 Had I done ill, what then had bin my paine .' 
 
 Loue with Remembrance lieth in my breaft, 
 All other Thoughts he cancels out of minde : 
 To thinke whats paft I cannot quiet reft, 
 Yet I in thofe Conceits ftrange loy doe finde, 
 Whilft now for her I thinke All I forfooke, 
 And wholly to her Grace my felfe betooke. 
 
 My wonted Mirth is turned into Mone, 
 Becaufe my ftate is changde and altred quite : 
 In company I am as One alone, 
 Whilft what doth Others pleafe, doth me difpite. 
 
 Ah when fhall I once from thefe Plagues be free 1 
 
 Neuer, leffe Alba Mercie fhew to mee. 
 
 My 
 
 45 
 
ALBA. 
 
 My ioyles Hart a troubled Spring is like, 
 Which from the tops of matchles Alpes moft hie, 
 Falls with a mightie noife downe headlong right, 
 By vncouth ftony wayes moft dreadfully, 
 
 Where all his Hopes he in the Deepe doth drowne : 
 A fatall figne of fortunes heauie frowne. 
 
 Darke pitchie clowdes of hugie Mountaines fleepe, 
 
 The loftieft part do hide from Sunny heate : 
 
 Seeld any winde of Pitie there doth fleete, 
 
 Them to diffolue, their thicknes is fo great. 
 
 For no calme Aire of gentle Loue doth blow, 
 Where fwelling Anger frets in furious fhow. 
 
 Thence doth my Tributarie Hart forth fend 
 Through peable ftones, now here, now there along, 
 A little Brooke into the Sea to wend, 
 As figne that I my dutie would not wrong : 
 
 For Alba mine, (Degree aboue Compare) 
 
 A large Sea is of fundrie Beauties rare. 
 
 A bitter caufe, me bitter teares makes ftied, 
 
 Whofe enuious Stepdame is a Froward Will, 
 
 Which is by Selfe conceit too wanton fed, 
 
 Th' efficient caufe that I thefe drops diftill : 
 
 Which though in outward fhew you white them fee, 
 Yet pure Red blood they in my Bodie bee. 
 
 Let 
 
 46 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Let bafeborne Mindes of bafeft matters treate, 
 My felfe (with them) to trouble I not lift : 
 The vulgar fort (they know not what) do fpeake, 
 VVhilft gainft the Truth and Vertue they perfift. 
 Honor's the marke whereat I feeke to aime, 
 Shame light on them that think on beaftly fhame. 
 
 So many men, fo many Mindes (they fay) 
 
 Yet at the laft Truth alwaies ftiall preuaile, 
 
 Bringing her vowed Foe vnto her bay, 
 
 Falfhood (I meane) for all her masked Vaile. 
 No Woman blame I, only I do feeke, 
 Swanhke to fing of my faire Sunne I leeke. 
 
 The Beauties which in other Ladies be, 
 
 I neuer had once thought for to difgrace : 
 
 Mine Alba hath enough in ftore for me, 
 
 Thoufand of Amours finde I in her face : 
 
 Her would I praife, whofe look[s] haue pleafde me euer, 
 From whom in hart difioyned I will be neuer. 
 
 Faine would I make mine infant Pen to fwell. 
 
 Through feruent zeale to blaze her Deitie, 
 
 That he her praife as Oracle might tell, 
 
 Raifing the fame t' the skies bright Canopie : 
 
 That fhe (fmce fhe deferues) might famous bee, 
 Beyond the Bounds of Albions vtmoft Sea. 
 
 The 
 
 47 
 
The Conclufion of the firft Part. 
 
 Tyf/'Hofo acquainted is not with my minde. 
 
 Nor knowes the SubieSlfaire of whom I write, 
 Nor how mine Alba me, to her doth binde. 
 Of whom I flill difcourfe, talke, and endite. 
 
 How I doe hope, how I doe fear e and grieue. 
 How I doe die, and how (againe) I Hue. 
 
 Let him but 'Lo^^feeke out, and him demaund ; 
 
 And hejhall wonders firange to him declare. 
 
 Such as at Beauties gaze fhall make himfland. 
 
 So exquifite, fo firange, they be and rare, 
 
 Heele tell him offo rich a Pretious flone, 
 As like before hath been enioyde by none. 
 
 And if he be defirous for to know, 
 The Heauen where my f aire Angell doth abide, 
 Northwefl from Troynouant he will him fhew. 
 Along H which place, f aire Mersie cleere doth glide. 
 
 War in that Tovvne, Love (Lordlike keepethflil, 
 Yetfhe (ore him) triumphs with chaflefl will. 
 
 Some fay fhes Louely Browne ; but I dare fay 
 She is Faire, Bea W ? Se, fo Faire as Faire may be, 
 Fairer then is tJie breake of beautious Day, 
 When fweete Kmxox2^ fmileth in her glee. 
 
 But why do I praife her felfe praijing Face? 
 
 T praife her not, tisjhe, (Jier felfe) doth grace. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 43 
 
THE 
 
 SECOND PART 
 
 OF THE MONETHS 
 
 MIND OF A MELAN- 
 CHOLY LOVER. 
 
 By R. T. Gentleman. 
 
 AT LONDON 
 
 Printed by Felix Kingston, for Matthew 
 
 Lownes. 1598. 
 
Alba CrudeliJJima. 
 
 THefe few (yet zealous) line[s] come from my hart, 
 Dried with my Sighs, and written with my Tea res, 
 I fend to her the Author of my fmart. 
 Though (fubtill Serpent like) flie flop her eares : 
 Who, more to her I fue, her Grace to gaine, 
 The more incenft againfl: me doth remaine. 
 
 I loue not I to pharifie, nor praife 
 
 My felfe, for to her owne felfe I appeale, 
 
 If I deuoted haue not bin alwaies. 
 
 To do her good, as one that fought her weale. 
 
 Heauens I forfweare, and vtterly abiure. 
 
 If that my Faith be tainted or vnpure. 
 
 Malleuolent, Malicious, Planet, Starre, 
 Was it my Fortune, fo far to be borpe, 
 My Cote fo true, to haue fo croffe a Bar, 
 That for my feruice thus fhe fhould me skorne ? 
 
 Muft my cleere Sunne eclipfed be with Spite ? 
 
 Muft enuious Clowdes ftill feeke to dark my Light ? 
 
 What remedie ? He think twas Fortune mine, 
 (And not her fault) that wrought me all this paine : 
 Her Crueltie twas not, but Deflnie mine. 
 My felfe, not (he, was caufe of mine owne bane : 
 
 Yet fhal y« world by this my LovES, MONTHS MiND, 
 A chaft Fault, though no Follie in her finde. 
 
 D 2 Since 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Since that mine Alba tooke her leaue of mee, 
 
 I leaue haue tooke of pleafure and of ioy : 
 
 And did with forrow at that time agree, 
 
 To foiorne with him in his chiefe Annoy. 
 
 My Woes (ftill greene) encreafe continually, 
 Which faine I would, but cannot remedie. 
 
 And were it not but that my dauntleffe Hart, 
 Doth comfort me with hope of better cheere, 
 I foone would rid me of this vncouth fmart, 
 And leaue this life which I haue bought too deare. 
 
 Oft do I weep to LovE, and him I pray, 
 
 Either to eafe my paines, or me to flay. 
 
 Yet though I beg, I finde but fmall reliefe, 
 As do at Rich mens gates the Needy poore : 
 Who more they crie to aggrauate their griefe. 
 The leffe they finde their Almes at the doore. 
 So Love, the more my cries I to him fend, 
 The leffe my plaints, he skornefuU doth attend. ■ 
 
 And yet my fute is fmall, fmall is the Grace 
 That I defire, (for fomewhat I deferue) 
 Tis only for to die before her face. 
 From whom in Dutie (yet) I nere did fwerue : 
 
 That Ihe might know my life doth me annoy, 
 
 Vnles I might her company enioy. 
 
 Ladie 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ladie, when firft vpon faire Venus Day, 
 
 I came acquainted with thy feemely felfe, 
 
 And vowde thy loyall Votarie to ftay, 
 
 Proffring to thee my lining, life and welth : 
 As I was then, fo am I ftill the fame, 
 Neuer to change, for change exchangeth fliame. 
 
 Within the Center of mine inward Hart, 
 {As figne of euerlafting Monument, 
 Which fatall Death fhall hardly from me part) 
 Thy high prizde Loue full furely haue I pent, 
 Neuer to be remou'd, but there to lie. 
 World without end for aye, continuallie. 
 
 For thee I longde, for thee I much did dare. 
 For thee I hopte and feard, bid fweet and fower : 
 Liking thee, 1, for Others did not care, 
 Ore this my Hart thou hadfi: fo great a power. 
 All other Faces, (in refpe6l of thine) 
 I skornde as Masks, thou only feem[d]ft Diuine. 
 
 Since Love, then me with fuch affeflion framde. 
 
 That he hath me adopted Thine, alone, 
 
 That I delight not but to heare thee namde. 
 
 And only like to heare thy praifes fhowne. 
 
 Ah keepe thy plighted Faith vnftainde to me, 
 Though now farre off from hence thou Abfent be. 
 
 D 3 Difdaine 
 
 53 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Difdaine affaulted hath mine Alba faire, 
 Fixing fafl: foot deep in her marble breft : 
 A blackfome Clowde hath darkt my beautious Aire, 
 Where cheerfull Sunne before with fmile did reft. 
 She moft vnlike her felfe a Tyrant fliowes, 
 Whilft as a Tiger mad with rage fhe growes. 
 
 All for her pleafure (me for to difpleafe) 
 Pitie fhe bandies from her tender hart : 
 Poyfon, not honey, now muft her appeafe : 
 Yet my Defire runs headlong to his fmart, 
 
 Headlong he runs to her fpite-tainted minde. 
 Which ouer fierce and cruell he doth finde. 
 
 My hopeles Chance, through Vaile (as twere) I fee, 
 Her quondam beautious eyes are bloodlhot now : 
 Exorde, defirde, intreated, they'le not' be, 
 They'le not relent, repent, nor yeeld or bow : 
 Lightnings of Anger they do fhow aright. 
 Thunders of Furie darting forth defpight. 
 
 The dangers great my harmeles Hart doth fpie, 
 Yet for all this, from her he'le not retire : 
 And whilft more humble he fore her doth lie. 
 The more fhe fullen fwels with wrathful Ire. 
 A Monfter then I may her mirorife. 
 Since fhe delights in fuch ftrange Tragedies. 
 
 Dried 
 
 54 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Dried hath th' iniurious Feuer thofe faire Flowers, 
 Which in the cheekes of my faire Alba lay : 
 Scorcht are thofe paradized coloured Bowers, 
 Loves Lobbie where he wantonly did play : 
 Yet not extinguiflit is mine amorous flame, 
 Some fparkes are yet remainders of the fame. 
 
 As fhe lookes now, fo lookes the Moone in skies. 
 When mongft the gloomie clowdes portending raine. 
 She with her watrie horned head forth pries. 
 Spreading abrode her dewie beames amaine : 
 So we Aurora vfe for to depaint, 
 Mongft palifti violets, when (he looketh faint. 
 
 Pitie is mixt with griefe in her faire face. 
 
 And Griefe with Pitie in the fame conioyne. 
 
 Where Love (though fick) fits with a louely grace, 
 
 In midft of fickly palenes in her eyne. 
 
 Sicknes it felfe fo louely nere did looke, 
 
 But fince her Inne in Albas breaft fhe tooke. 
 
 That ftately Haughtines fhe had before, 
 Now changde is into low Humilitie : 
 And that fame glance that faithles was of yore. 
 Now faithfull fheweth and full of Loyaltie. 
 
 So with her Colour if fhe did cruell take. 
 
 Yet Pitifull her Palenes doth her make. 
 
 D 4 Like 
 
 55 
 
ALBA, 
 
 Like bloodie Lion, or a dinging Snake, 
 With proud Difdaine to aggrauate my fmart, 
 Loue into me (vnaskt) his way doth take. 
 Died all with blood (and Blood tis of my Hart) 
 
 Which wounded deepe, ftill languifhing doth lie, 
 
 Expefting euery minute when to die. 
 
 Thoufands of Wounds my life hath quite bereft. 
 And wanting blood, Palenes fits in my face : 
 My foule this Corfe (his manfion Houfe) hath left, 
 Nor dares he back retire to his old place. 
 
 This Martyrdome, although there's many fee, 
 None me careffeth, or doth comfort mee. 
 
 My life runnes fondly to his mortall Foe, 
 
 Hoping for Help, where he his hurt did finde : 
 
 My fpirits after him amaine doe goe, 
 
 Whilft liueles Bodie doth remaine behinde : 
 
 On which grim death doth feaze, as on his pray, 
 And of his breath to reaue him doth affay. 
 
 A farre off Peace I fee, but Warre at hand, 
 
 Loue fmgle ftrikes me, (but with double paine) 
 
 Kild is my hart by Cruell fhe's Command, 
 
 And he that flew him cleped is Difdaine : 
 
 Loe here of my kinde Dame the Exercife, 
 Hate is her Chapman, Blood her Marchandife. 
 
 Praxitiles 
 
 56 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Praxitiles, and Myron (workman rare) 
 
 Apelles skilde, learnde Homer (famous wight) 
 
 Were thefe aliue, the Pifture of my Faire 
 
 To carue, to cut, to paint, and thereof write, 
 
 In marble, braffe, boord, or in bookes at large, 
 They fone would faint, ore preft with fo great charge. 
 
 And yet may be her beautious Countenance, 
 
 With chifell, toole, with penfell and with pen, 
 
 They rightly might haue ftiadowed (though by chance) 
 
 Becaufe they, in their Age were rareft Men. 
 
 But had they come the nobler part to (how. 
 Their cunning then had foone tooke th' ouerthrow. 
 
 If my bright Sunne (renowmd/^r Excellence, 
 
 Through the illuftrious fplendar of her gleames) 
 
 Doth dimme and darken our Intelligence, 
 
 By vertue of her more then radiant beames : 
 
 What Hand or Thought in hand could euer take, 
 A worke fo endles, with good end to make. 
 
 Deare Alba I by thee am ftill forbid. 
 
 By Statue, Image, Pifture, or by Verfe, 
 
 To fhew the Vertues rare within thee hid, 
 
 As not being able leaft part to rehearfe : 
 It fhall fuffice (as facred) I admire. 
 Thy fpotles life, thy more then chaft defire. 
 
 To 
 
 57 
 
ALBA. 
 
 To thee farre off (from me) thefe fighs I fend, 
 To thee farre off from Loue, I, neere to die, 
 To know if thou thy felfewill minde Wilt mend, 
 Defifting from thy hatefull Crueltie. 
 
 Beautie if it be milde, it is renound ; 
 
 If it be proud, a foule reproch tis found. 
 
 Thou makfl a fhew as if thou wouldfl be kinde : 
 
 But tis a fhadow, not a fubflance right : 
 
 For comming vnto triall ftraight I finde,' 
 
 Thy sdainfuU chafl lookes puts my Hope to flight : 
 
 Whilft thou dofl feeme at thefe my Woes to grieue, 
 Yet them with fuccour neuer doft relieue. 
 
 Thy Griefe (for me) a pafTion's in a play. 
 
 Which men doth rauifh with Melancholy : 
 
 But a£led once, and out of fight, away. 
 
 In minde, no longer there doth flay, but dy : 
 Thou art the A6lor playing fuch a part. 
 My griefes neere deeply pearce into thy hart. 
 
 O would I could from Reafons Court obtaine, 
 A Superfedeas, LoVE for to remoue, - 
 From out my Breafl to thee, to eafe my paine. 
 That thou the force thereof a while mightft proue. 
 But Deftnie wils that I thy flaue do flay, 
 And fo I will, who bound is, muft obey. 
 
 Why 
 
 S8 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Why haue the Heauens thus changed my Eftate ? 
 
 Deferuing well to complot my Decay ? 
 
 Why rather was not fo ordainde my fate, 
 
 That Alba nere fhould wend from me away ? 
 I neuer changing my firft vowed Loue, 
 Why fhould (vnconftant Ihe) from me remoue ? 
 
 (Fond man) is fhe vnconftant to be calde, 
 Who after courfe of world doth runne her race ? 
 Are not all men by fortune puld and halde, 
 Neuer to bide (ftill) in one certiaine place ? 
 Nothing is more commended in the Sea, 
 Then th' often Ebbings, and the Flowings bee. 
 
 Ah Alba, if thou Ihouldft continue ftill 
 In one felfe place, t'would be a Paradife : 
 But thou (t'allay our proud Affeftions will) 
 T' eciipfe thine owne perfeftions doft deuife. 
 Thinking it is enough, if but with eye 
 We ioy a fmall glimfe of thy Maieftie. 
 
 Then to encreafe our Griefes, thou doft decreafe 
 Our pleafures, and thy felfe from vs doft hide, 
 When we for nothing lookt but peace and eafe, 
 Euen at thy Beft, and in thy Beauties pride. 
 
 But why talke I, where I cannot be hard ? 
 
 Or heard (he me, ftie would not me regard. 
 
 Where 
 
 59 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Where are my Vowes withouten number now ? 
 
 My teares withouten meafure that I fhed ? 
 
 My skalding fighs to make proud Alba bow ? 
 
 They all are gone, forgot, quite banifhed. 
 
 Yet though they not deferue her loue they craue, 
 Methinks fome better fortune they fhould haue. 
 
 But if the Gods in iudgement partiall fit, 
 Vnequall viewers of each iniurie : 
 And with condigne reuenge feeke not to quit 
 So monftrous wrong, fuch nere heard Crueltie : 
 Why then I Reafon none, for Louers fee 
 That they fhould bide fuch paine for loyaltie. 
 
 Yet neither Hopes preferment, were it great, 
 
 Nor feare of punifhment, though to my paine : 
 
 Nor counfell of the Wifeft that entreat, 
 
 Nor company of beft where I remaine. 
 
 Shall euer make me once my Humour change, 
 Nor from my firft deuoted Vow to range. 
 
 My youths chiefe Flower (of all my life the prime) 
 
 In melancholy pafsion I will fpend : 
 
 Careles behauiour fhall my latter time 
 
 (Becaufe (forfooke) fhe cares not for me) end. 
 Thus will I ftill continue during breath, 
 Doting on her, who doth deuife my death. 
 
 Fond 
 
 60 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Fond that I am like Greekifh Wraftler vaine, 
 Striuing to lift a waight impoffible, 
 I caught fo ftrange incurable a ftraine, 
 As thereby (brufed fore) I brainfick fell : 
 
 Fixing my thoughts aboue my reach, I fall 
 
 Into Difeafe, without recure at all. 
 
 The fbately Cedar whofe tops feeme in fhow, 
 For height, to reach vnto the azur'd skie, 
 Neuer his head bowes to the fhrubs below, 
 That in the deepe and hollow Valleys lie. 
 
 Th' yuie that climing vp by th' elme doth runne, 
 Neuer can get hold of the beames of Sunne. 
 
 Alba I honor in humilitie, 
 
 Whom none ought, or fhould dare venter to loue : 
 
 Though I prefume with importunitie. 
 
 Sometimes my fute (in vaine) to her to moue : 
 For her affections be immortall, rare. 
 Her vertues fuch, as infinite they are. 
 
 Then fuffer me to gaze on Alba mine, 
 With my mindes eyes, though abfent now fhe be : 
 I knew when I enioyde her fight (ah happie time) 
 That time (I feare) I neuer more fhall fee. 
 But tis all one, for were the Cruell here, 
 I of my purpofe fhould be nere the neere. 
 
 Am 
 
 6i 
 
ALB A. 
 
 Am I fo mad, to thinke that fuch a Toy, 
 As Sorcerie is, fhould ought preuaile for me ; 
 That witchcraft power hath for to make me ioy, 
 And caufe me here, mine abfent Mifbris fee ? 
 I cannot chufe but thinke all to be tales. 
 And that Enchantment little here preuailes. 
 
 What though the Sunne is darkened by this skill, 
 And Moone's remoude from out her fetled cours ; 
 Wilde beafts made ftand, amazed, tame, and ftill, 
 And waters turnde from their firft wonted fours : 
 Yet cannot Art, by force make fetled Loue, 
 From his firft Center (where he refteth) moue. 
 
 The Gods, not men, do rule the inward Hart, 
 
 They can appoynt Affeftion as they pleafe ; 
 
 Stones, Yearbs, and Words, may vfen be by Art ; 
 
 Yet thefe the Louers griefes can fmalely eafe. 
 Not Exorjifms, Spels, Mettals, Planets, Fire, 
 Can alter once the fetled firme Defire. 
 
 Then He with Difcontent be fatisfied. 
 And hopeles liue in hope, though Hope in vaine : 
 Refoluing all bafe coynes to abide. 
 Since I defpaire her grace for to obtaine : 
 Vnhappie I, my cafe ore defperate. 
 No Skill nor cunning can my paine abate. 
 
 Hard 
 
 62 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Hard hap had I, to fall into thy handj 
 Who giu'ft thy felfe to endles crueltie ; 
 When to thy flintie heart wilt giue eommand, 
 To change his wont, and fomewhat gentler be ? 
 
 Wilt thou thy Beautie faire, adulterife ? 
 
 And feekft thou ftill on me t^o tiranife ? 
 
 Ift poffible thy yeares fo- few and fmall, 
 
 So many ancient mifchiefes fhould containe ? 
 
 Thy fwelling pride, I long haue borne Withall, 
 
 Becaufe that Beautie thereof is to blame. 
 
 Which ftill the more in fairenes it exceedes, 
 The more it ioyes in coy difdained deedes. 
 
 I grieue at thy deuifes gainft me wrought,- 
 And forrow, that wits fharper that they fhow, 
 The fhroder and vnhappier fhould be thought, 
 Prone vnto ill, but vnto Goodnes flow. 
 
 But for one feeke to murther (through difdaine) 
 A harmeles heart, is worfe then Murderers ftaine. 
 
 What moues thee then, thy felfe thus to difgrace, 
 Vnfitting for thy Sex, where nought fhould be 
 But kindenes milde, far altring from thy face, 
 Where nothing but rare beautie we can fee ? 
 
 If then fo faire a Sunne, fuch foule cloudes hide. 
 
 Let me ftill in eternall Darkenes bide. 
 
 The 
 
 63 
 
ALBA. 
 
 The bitter plaints wherewith my foule I wound 
 With skalding fighs which fmoke from forth my bread : 
 My cheekes through griefe, pale wan and hollow found, 
 My troubled Thoughts which reaue me of my reft : 
 
 Salt watrie teares, which raine from blubbring eye, 
 Warme blood from Hart diftilling inwardly. 
 
 The feruile yoke which did my freedom breake, 
 My willing minde to doe what wild Command, 
 The ftate wherein I brought my felfe moft weake, 
 The froft and fire wherein I ftill did ftand, 
 
 The fnare in which LovE wrapt me fo about, 
 As from the fame I nere (yet) could get out. 
 
 All thefe, and many another worfer griefe, 
 
 Are no fuch plagues as is that Marble Hart, 
 
 (That Marble Hart) that yeelds me no reliefe, 
 
 Nor euer fought fome comfort to impart. 
 
 The reuolution of the Heauens, nor any Time, 
 Can make (that Breaft) to yeeld to my Defigne. 
 
 Vertue doth hinder it, in my defpight, 
 Chafte Honeftie maintaines her in her force : 
 Then LoVE farewell, all hope He banifh quite, 
 I fee in Flint is found no kind remorfe. 
 
 If Teares, Vowes, Gifts, Prayers, Othes no good can 
 Nor Loue obtaine, in vaine tis then to fue. (doe, 
 
 Deare 
 
 64 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Deare to my Soule (for Deare I may thee call,) 
 Since thou farre dearer then myfelfe I holde, 
 When wilt thou rid me of this loathed thrall, 
 In which I am through Fancies bandes enrold ? 
 
 When wilt thou keepe thy promife vnto mee ? 
 
 Whereof no deedes, but wordes I yet can fee. 
 
 Why (doubtfull ftill) doeft thou my ioyes prolong ? 
 
 And driufte me of[f], in dalliance without caufe ? 
 
 Me and thy felfe, why doeft thou double wrong } 
 
 To keepe thy word, why, fo long doft thou paufe .' 
 Thus for to lofe thy golden Time, tis fin. 
 Which once being paft, againe, thou canft not win. 
 
 Matters of ftate we vfe to politize, 
 
 Procraftinating for aduantage great. 
 
 Love, lingring hates, and lothes to temporize, 
 
 Delaie's too colde, for his orewarmed heate ; 
 
 Ah, doe not driue me of[f] thus (ftill) in vaine, 
 Still for to lofe tis much, once let me gaine. 
 
 Dearer to me then th' apple of mine eyes, 
 
 Let word and deede, but once for all agree, 
 
 Not any can in face thee equalize. 
 
 If but a little more thou kinde wouldft be. 
 
 Then with allufiue Sightes, feede not me ftill, 
 But graunt (at laft) for to performe my will. 
 
 E Ye 
 
 6'. 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ye lukewarme Teares which from my nere dride eyes, 
 Streame downe amaine like fountaines day and night, 
 Wende to my Lady in moft humble wife, 
 And fliew to her, my mofi: vnhappie plight : 
 
 Wende vnto her, who outwardly in fhew, 
 
 Seemes pittifull, but (inward) is not fo. 
 
 Weepe you to her and fay ; I ft poffible 
 
 A Creature that fo courteous feemes to all, 
 
 Shoulde haue a hart more cruell and more fell 
 
 Then Tiger, harder then a ftony wall ? 
 
 Ah why feemes fhe not inwardly as kinde, 
 As Ihe doth outward fhew, the world to blinde. 
 
 This my Icarian foaring (boue my reach) 
 (Through Beautie, ferenifing fals my Hart) 
 How I ore bolde, may headlong fall, doth teach, 
 Whileft Love doth play gainft me a fubtile part : 
 Yet Beauties Birth I am, by her I breath, 
 Though liue againft her fauour and her leaue. 
 
 Wilde fire with milke is quencht, rigor with teares, 
 Yet naught her ftubborne minde can moUifie : 
 Vnto my prayers fhe ftops her deafened eares. 
 And with Defpayre requites my Courtefie. 
 Thus am I ftill ftarre croffed in my Loue, 
 As one bewitcht, with whom no good doth proue. 
 
 How 
 
 66 
 
ALBA. 
 
 How long (hall I diue in the vaftie Sea, 
 
 To finde this Perle, this orient Margarite ? 
 
 How long this bottome founding fhall I be ? 
 
 Yet nere attaine this precious lewell bright ? 
 My labors (like to Hercules) abound, 
 Who more he did, the more to doe, ftil found. 
 
 I am too weake with Ofpraies eyes to looke, 
 
 Againft the fiery beames of this faire Sun : 
 
 Too great a Burthen haue I fondly tooke, 
 
 For my weake (houlders long fmce ouercome. 
 The more I feeke, the farther I, to finde. 
 Like to the wretch, that of his fight is blinde. 
 
 My brufed Bulwarke is not ftrong enough 
 For to refift this beautious Batterie : 
 My yoke too fmall, to draw fo huge a plough. 
 Mine eyes too dimme, fuch Brightnes to defcrie : 
 
 This fhewes, that as vnluckie I was borne. 
 
 To die vnfortunate I muft not fcorne. 
 
 Yet He not leaue to intercefsionate, 
 
 To her hard Breaft, for my too gentle Hart : 
 
 That if her Rigor fhe'le not mitigate, 
 
 At lead fhe'le fomewhat eafe me of this Smart : 
 I onely craue, if fhe'le not yeelde reliefe, 
 T'adiourne my paine, and to proroge my Griefe. 
 
 E 2 Thrife 
 
 67 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Thrife trebble bleffed Bracelet, rich in prife, 
 
 I enuie not thy perlie fret, nor golde, 
 
 But fortune thine, becaufe in happie wife, 
 
 The place of perfeft pleafure thou doft holde. 
 
 About that wrifl: thou turnft and windft fo oft. 
 More white then Snow, then thiftle down more foft, 
 
 Bafe mindes loue Golde : tis not thy Golde I fteeme. 
 
 For this I onely value thee at much, 
 
 Becaufe an Ornament th'art to be feene. 
 
 Of her white Hand yclept of right NoNESVCH : 
 NONESVCH indeede, whofe Beautie is fo rare, 
 As nere the like, attainde the perfefts Faire. 
 
 This is the caufe fo highlie I thee rate, 
 
 As all the golden Mines of Indian Ground, 
 
 Nor Seas of Pearle can counteruaile thy ftate, 
 
 Wherein thou art this prefent to be found : 
 
 And, if that trueth I fhall confeffe indeede, 
 The wealth of all the world thou doft exceede. 
 
 But when I marke, how by ftrange cunning Art, 
 Faire louelie Haires, with Pearle and Golde conioyne, 
 A pleafing ioy doth feaze vpon my Heart, 
 Whileft with ftrange pleafures, Fancie feeds my mind : 
 So as (fweete Bracelet) thou doft rightly proue. 
 To be th' enchantment of bewitching Love, 
 
 Liue 
 
 6S 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Liue Louely Fame, which when thou firft didft take 
 Poffeflion of my Heart, wert ftony colde. 
 And baflifull ; but when entrance thou didft make, 
 Then, as Triumphant thou didft keepe thy holde : 
 
 Changing both Thought & ftate, that where before 
 Colde chillie Yce was, hot Defire burnt fore. 
 
 If I thee honor, worfhip, ferue, and loue, 
 He knowes, who guides the reftles Globe on high, 
 But enuious Fates on me their force doe proue, 
 And me, from thee haue banifht fpitefully. 
 
 So that more paine I doe each houre abide, 
 Then if that thoufands forts of deaths I dide. 
 
 But fore that peereles fhape of thine, 
 (The better part wherein my Soule doth reft) 
 Shall out of minde, or memory of mine, 
 (Whereby I only happy liue and bleft,) 
 
 All things ftiall chaunce, impoflible that be, 
 
 Myfelfe, forget myfelfe will I, fore thee. 
 
 The Sunne fhall lofe his power, and darke become, 
 The Skies fliall melt, and into horror fall. 
 The earth (hall fmke, the world be quite vndone, 
 And fore this chance, all ftrange things happen fhall. 
 Though (now) thou bidfte in Albions fruitfull land. 
 And I, where Mantuan Duke, his Court doth ftand. 
 
 E 3 Mantua Such 
 
 69 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Such as do liggen in Delight and ioy, 
 And haue what Hart can wifh, or Thought deuife, 
 Spending their time withouten dire Annoy, 
 Lining amongft their friends in iocund wife, 
 
 And who with Loue of Ladies theirs are bleft, 
 
 May in Eternam Requiem, happie red. 
 
 Me, filUe Trauailer (a pilgrim poore) 
 
 (Who through hard hap thefe blefsings all doe miffe) 
 
 Care doth become, fince want I do endure 
 
 Of Countrie, Friends, and Loue, my chiefeft bliffe : 
 
 And yet this Care not 111, but well, with me, 
 
 Obferuing ftill Decorum doth agree. 
 
 A Trauailer, farre from his Natiue coaft, 
 With Care doth rife, with Care him downe doth lay : 
 And though from piller toft he be to pofte, 
 When All him leaue, yet Care with him doth (lay. 
 Not like vaine pleafure, who away doth peake. 
 When he his Bark through want perceiues to leake. 
 
 Thanks then to Care, of Poore the comfort chiefe, 
 The beft companion that we Strangers finde, 
 In Countries ilrange forlorne, without reliefe. 
 Who quiet, gentle, patient is and kinde. 
 
 Then conftant Care, not Comfort I do craue, 
 And (might I chufe) I Care with L. would haue. 
 
 This 
 
 70 
 
ALBA. 
 
 This Tower, this Caftle, this huge Prifon ftrong, 
 
 Begirt with high and double fenced Wall, 
 
 (Where I to be kept prifoner, thus haue wrong) 
 
 Can neuer hurt, nor do me harme at all : 
 
 Since I was pent here, I am (nothing changde) 
 But as before, when I abrode ftill rangde. 
 
 This place reftraines my Bodies libertie, 
 But hath no power ouer my Thoughts or Minde, 
 Which is the caufe I count my felfe moft free, 
 Though I my felfe in greateft Bondage finde, 
 
 I can fo feede on Fancie, and fubdue 
 
 Enuie, by fweet Imagination true. 
 
 No fweeter Mufick to the Miferable, 
 Then is Defpayre : therefore the more I feele 
 Of bitternes, of forrow fower and fell. 
 The more of Sweetnes it doth feeme to yeeld. 
 Vaine I efteeme my life, all libertie. 
 Since I do want mine Albas Companie. 
 
 Vfe, Miferie hath made familiar now 
 
 With me, that I count forrow chiefeft loy : 
 
 And him the welcomft Gueft I do alow, 
 
 That faddeffc tales can tell of bloodied Noy. 
 
 Then (Cruell) think what life I ftill haue led. 
 Since fo in port away from me th' art fled, 
 
 E 4 Thrice 
 
 71 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Thrice precious purfe, by daintie Hand ywrought, 
 Of Beauties Firft Borne, Fauours rightful! Heire, 
 Not for a world of wealth, purchafb or bought. 
 But freely giuen (for Loue) by Alba faire : 
 
 Giuen to me, vnworthie of the fame. 
 
 As one not meriting fo great a Gaine, 
 
 Tis not the richnes hereof, though tis much, 
 
 Nor rarenes of the worke furpaffing skill, 
 
 That I account of, though that it be fuch. 
 
 As euery eye, with mafement it doth fill : 
 
 But caufe t'was made by that Alconquering Hand, 
 Whofe becke, eue Loues own felf doth countermad. 
 
 Dan Fortunatus Bagge, which Hiftories 
 
 Affirme, endles to be for golden ftore, 
 
 And that it helde of Quoyne Infinities, 
 
 To this my purfe is needy, bafe and poore : 
 
 Golde in the infide (onely) of his purfe was feene, 
 But mine, hath (alwaies) Golde without and in. 
 
 Pure gold tis wrought with, yet her Haires more bright, 
 Saft is the Silke, more faft her fnowie skinne, 
 Orient the Perle, yet are her teeth more white, 
 The Cullers rare ; her cheekes the prife tho, winne : 
 Ah precious Purfe, where what I doe beholde. 
 Are Cullours rare, fine Perle, faft Silke, pure Golde. 
 
 Warme 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Wanne fhowers raine faft from forth my blubbred eyes, 
 My heauie Thoughts are Clowdes replete with woes : 
 Hot liuely Flames from out my breafh arife, 
 My skalding fighs the wind's that forth them blowes : 
 Fire burning Cancer and Aquarius cold, 
 Ore me their powers predominant do hold, 
 
 The flames, themfelues vp to the heauens lift. 
 
 Where they by thoufands round about doe turne : 
 
 The waters runne like to a Torrent fwift ; 
 
 Hence comes it that my felfe I drowne and burne. 
 By reafon of two fpitefull Qualities, 
 (Moyfture and Heate) my life in danger lies. 
 
 My teares a great ftreame make, they fo abound, 
 A quenchles burning this my fecret Fire : 
 Hope doth defpaire, and there her felfe hath drownde, 
 And Hart to cinders bumes through hot Defire : 
 Fancie doth frolike, and doth fiiU reuiue, 
 Reafon's fo ficke, not long fheele keepe aliue. 
 
 Alba my Teares accounteth as a Toy, 
 And for a fport mine ardent Heat fhe holds : 
 For in her eyes, Cocitus (me to noy) 
 And Phlegeton in bread flie fierce enfolds. 
 
 Thus (he my Hart doth ftill anatomife, 
 
 With keeneft rafor of her Crueltife. 
 
 Haires 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Haires louely Browne immur'd with pearle and gold, 
 
 How ill fits you this Ribbon Carnatine, 
 
 Since I no more your Miftris now behold, 
 
 Of my difafter, moft vnlucky figne, 
 
 Who to me gaue this Bracelet for a Favovr, 
 A work by Beautie framde through LovES true la- 
 
 (bour. 
 
 How often would fhe, bout my Wrift ftill prie, 
 
 And vnderminde me (by deuife) as twere, 
 
 Making a fhew of Doubt and leloufie, 
 
 As if I it forgot bout me to beare ? 
 
 But now I feare me, through her flaying ore long, 
 Both Love, Her felf, and Me, fhe much doth wrong. 
 
 Who euer faw a Beautie fuch, fo faire, 
 Lodgde in a fubieft fo vnconftant found ? 
 Who euer faw more loyall Louer rare. 
 To fuch hard Fortune (caufeles) to be bound ? 
 
 Ah why is not (as is her face) her Minde ? 
 
 Th' one's Faire, the other, I Forgetfull finde. 
 
 Then louely Haires, my deareft Harts beft Eafe, 
 You muft from Handwrift mine to Hatband black : 
 There muft you bide, though me it doth difpleafe, 
 Since whom I would, I moft of all do lack. 
 
 This fable place doth fit you beft to mourne, 
 Where you vnfeene, (hall lie till fhe returne. 
 
 Ah 
 
 74 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ah happie Handkercher, that keepft the figne, 
 (As only Monument vnto my Fame) 
 How deare my Loue was to fweet Alea mine, 
 When (fo) to fliew my Loue Ihe did me blame. 
 Relique of LoVE I do not enuie thee, 
 Though whom thy Mafter cannot, thou doft fee. 
 
 Only let me intreat this Fauour fmall. 
 When in her chamber all alone by chance. 
 Open her pretie Casket for fome work fhe fhall, 
 And hap her eye on thee vn wares to glance : 
 Ah, then the colour of her face but marke. 
 And thou by that fhalt know her inward hart. 
 
 If fhe fhall blufh, and grieue, thee fo to view, 
 
 And wiftly caft on thee a piteous eye. 
 
 It is a figne her loue continues true, 
 
 And that her faith fhe doth not falfifie. 
 
 Ah, then (afrefh) (her faith more firme to moue) 
 Bleed thou againe, for to reuiue her Loue. 
 
 But if fhe (feeing thee) no account doth make. 
 
 Flinging thee here and there without regard : 
 
 Know then expired is my louing Date, 
 
 My Hope deceiu'd, my Fortune ouer hard. 
 Yet if fhe doth but fighing fay to thee, 
 (Saftly) (Farewell deare Servant) happie mee. 
 
 Thofe 
 
 7S 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Thofe ebbon windowes fweete, thofe cheerfull eyes, 
 Where Love (at Lavvgh and fweete looke on) doth 
 Are on the fudden changde in ftrangie wife, (play, 
 
 And do Difdaines Enfigne (gainft me) difplay : 
 
 Darke now they feeme, and fower, ore pafling bad, 
 Making my life feeme to me black and fad. 
 
 Thofe cheerfull eyes, which wont to comfort me, 
 
 And to my hungrie foule yeeld nourifhment, 
 
 Denie me food, nor will they pleafed be, 
 
 But mew me vp, as ftarueling clofely pent. 
 
 My walks I vfde, which faire and eafie were. 
 
 Are flopt with blood-drawing brables euery where. 
 
 My crafed hart thus skorned for his Loue 
 And plagude with proud difdaine and sdainfuU Pride, 
 Wailes fo as would a Rock (though flintie) moue : 
 Nor better courfe hath this Difgrace to bide. 
 
 Then fighs and Teares, which forth he fends apace. 
 And (damned like) ftill begs, but nere finds grace. 
 
 Sweet ftay of my weake tottring life nie falne, 
 Balme to my wounds, and Cordiall to my griefe, 
 Light to my darknes, to my ftorme, mild Calme, 
 Eafe to my paine, and to my want, Reliefe. 
 
 Ah who hath now (and that fo fuddenly) 
 
 Of pitie thee depriu'd, to make me die .> 
 
 Poore 
 
 76 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Poore wafted Hart that wandreft not aftray, 
 Although thy Peari.e her orient colour change : 
 Thou, which in thy firfl Faith vnftaind doft ftay, 
 Although fhe from her plighted vow doth range. 
 
 Ah, where are now thy cheerfull dales of Hope ? 
 
 Thy Liues line, Loue, what wretched had hath broke ? 
 
 Alas poore foule, how badly art thou vfde. 
 For thy much louing (louing ouer long .>) 
 Caufeles without defert to be refufde. 
 And for thy right to be repaid with wrong ? 
 
 (Fond) do betimes from Fancies Fort retire, 
 
 Reafon retaine, and banifh rafh Defire. 
 
 What meanft thou careles thus to feek thy Care ? 
 
 Call home thy Wits, giue ore although with lofTe : 
 
 Els like one blindfold art thou caught in fnare. 
 
 And wilt too late returne by weeping croffe. 
 
 Seeft not that (hut is Loues fweet paffage plaine, 
 That opens wide the path of proud Difdaine ? 
 
 If fo, why fhouldft thou beg (in vaine) for grace .' 
 
 Rather demaund thy pafport and away : 
 
 Better at firft giue ore in midfl: of Race, 
 
 Then lofe in th' end, though longer time thou ftay. 
 Then if fhe'Ie not admit thee as a frend, 
 Let her thee manumit (as Free) to wend. 
 
 O 
 
 77 
 
ALBA, 
 
 O that I were where bides mine Alba faire, 
 
 VVhofe perfon to poffeffe is pleafure fuch, 
 
 As driues away all melancholy Care, 
 
 Which doth the Hart through Griefs impreflion touch : 
 Whofe louely Locks All do more curious deeme, 
 When they mofl careles to be dreffed feeme. 
 
 Her fweet Lookes mofl alluring be, when they 
 Moft chafte do feeme in modeft glancing fhow : 
 Her words, the more they vertuoufly do way, 
 The more (in count) for amorous they go : 
 
 Her dreiTmgs fuch as when neglefted mofl:. 
 She's thought as then to haue befl:owd moft coft. 
 
 Sweet Fortune, when I meet my louely Treafure, 
 Dafh my Delights with fome fmall light difgrace. 
 Left I (enioying fweetnes boue all meafure) 
 Surfet without recure on that faire face. 
 
 Her wonted coyneffe let her vfe a while. 
 
 My fierce Defire by Diet to beguile. 
 
 Left with the fulnes of my ioyes, abate 
 
 The fweetnes, and I perifh ftraight before 
 
 I do poffeffe them, at too deare a rate. 
 
 But foft (Fond Icarus) how high wilt foare ? 
 
 Thou dreamft I think, or foulie doft miftake, 
 I dreame indeed, Ah might I neuer wake. 
 
 Like 
 
 78 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Like as the Hawke caft from the Faulkners fift, 
 Freed from the Mew doth (ioyfull) take his flight, 
 Soaring aloft in th' aire as beft him lift, 
 Now here, now there, doth finde no fmall delight, 
 
 Enioying that, which Treafures all doth paffe, 
 
 (His libertie) wherefore he prifoner was. 
 
 But when th' acquainted Hollow he doth heare. 
 And feeth the Lure caft forth him home to traine. 
 As one obedient full of awfull feare. 
 He leaues his flight, and backward turnes againe, 
 Chufing in ancient bonds for to be bound. 
 Fore faithles to his Lord he will be found ; 
 
 So (Alba) though I wanton, otherwhile, 
 
 Do runne abrode, and other Ladies court. 
 
 Seeking the time with pleafures to beguile. 
 
 And oft my felfe with words of courfe do fport, 
 Diffembling with Diffemblers cunninglie, 
 As is the guife, with tongue, with hand, and Eye. 
 
 Yet when I thinke vpon thy face diuine. 
 
 Thy Beautie cals me home, ftraight as a Lure, 
 
 All other banifliing from Hart of mine. 
 
 And in Loves Bands to thee doth binde me fure. 
 
 And fince my Faith, and Fates do fo ordaine, 
 
 I am content thy prifoner to remaine. 
 
 Where 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Where are thofe Haires fo louely Browne in Ihow ? 
 
 Where is tliat fnowy Mount of luorie white ? 
 
 With damaske Rofe where do the Lillies grow ? 
 
 Whofe Colours & whofe fweetnes All delight ? (Loue, 
 
 Where are thofe cheerfull Lights, Lamps of cleere 
 Wherein, a beautious Heauen doth alwaies moue ? 
 
 Where are thofe Margarite Pearles withouten prife. 
 
 And Rubies rich (my matchles Treafures ftore) 
 
 With other Graces, wonders to the Wife, 
 
 Worthy that euery Lawrell them adore ? 
 I know not I, vnles in her they be. 
 In Her who's Faire, Alas too Faire for me. 
 
 Why haue not then my Stars fo courteous bin, 
 
 In this to me, as they are in the reft. 
 
 That I by loftie ftile might Beautie win, 
 
 And blaze abrode her praife deferuing beft .' 
 
 Why haue not I the Gift, her Gifts to thunder, 
 And make the world thereat admire and wonder } 
 
 Could I (but as flie doth deferue aright) 
 
 Sing as a Cignet fweete with pleafmg vaine. 
 
 Her Vertues rare, her ftraining Beauties fight. 
 
 As I am blunt in Wit, and dull in Braine, 
 
 I then fhould fee, her Courteous, Gentle, Milde, 
 Where now I finde her, Cruell, Proud and Wilde. 
 
 Needs 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Needes muft I Alba leaue, yet fhe'Ie not part, 
 
 Though I doe loue her, yet ftill my Defire, 
 
 Seekes her to keepe in Clofet of my Hart ; 
 
 And though (he doth againft me thus confpire, 
 Yet with my Soule, I muft her Error moane. 
 Since fo vnkindelie fhe her felfe hath fliowne. 
 
 My fecret griefes lie in my felfe difieft ; 
 The world fhall neuer know her hatefull Pride, 
 Her fhame (my Bane) I will conceale in breft, 
 And as a Monument there (hall it bide. 
 
 Alba farewell, all pittie now is fled. 
 
 And fmce tis fo, Adew, I am but Dead. 
 
 But thou (my Hart) come thou from her thy way ; 
 
 Tis time (I thinke) to leaue that witching face. 
 
 Where too too much vnkindenes ftill doth ftay ; 
 
 For Loyall Loue, there is no refting place. 
 
 Simple Goodwill, to foiourne findes it vaine, 
 Where Thoughts are falls, and Double do remaine. 
 
 My nere ftainde Faith, my life ftiall teftifie. 
 
 To future Age, that fhall hereafter come. 
 
 To ftiew the world my fpotles Loyaltie : 
 
 And yet perhaps againe may fhine the Sunne, 
 When as my Trueth vnto her being knowne. 
 She may at laft receiue me for her owne. 
 
 F The 
 
The Conclufion of the fecond Part. 
 
 TF I Jhould count the /pending of my time, 
 
 Since Her I lojl, with whom I left my life ; 
 How I in Grief e without relief e doe pine, 
 My feldome Pleafures, and my Corfies rife, 
 If I fhould take vpon me, thefe to tell, 
 It were in vaine,for t'were impofjibell. 
 
 Yet Jim the more I fuffer for her fake, 
 The more my Hart dothjiudie to endure. 
 The world Jhall know the Pennance he doth make. 
 And how his Thoughts are loyall, chajle, and pure. 
 So fmall account tie makethfor to die. 
 As his owtie Death hefeeketh wilfully. 
 
 Of Her hejlill doth buzze me in the eare. 
 And wils me make a lournie to that place. 
 To haue a fight of Her (to himfo deare) 
 Whofe beautious fhape all Beauties doth difgrace. 
 Alas I xvould full faine, Her felfe doth know, 
 But Danger to offend, doth Jlill fay No. 
 
 TJun fince poore Hart, thou canjl not haue thy will. 
 But long ft for what thou neuer flalt obtaine, 
 Confume thy felfe with thy recur eles ill. 
 As Women, that with Longing breede their bane. 
 And as thou dieji, let this thy Comfort be. 
 Thy Love was Vertve, hers was Chastitie. 
 
 R. T. 
 
 82 
 
THE 
 
 TH IRD PART 
 
 OF THE MONETHS 
 
 MIND OF A MELAN- 
 CHOLY LOVER. 
 
 By R. T. Gentleman. 
 
 AT LONDON 
 
 Printed by Felix King/ion, for Matthew 
 
 Lownes. 1598. 
 
A Ida CrudeliJJima. 
 
 10 here the courfe fpun Web of Difcontent, 
 --' Extraft from out the caufe of my trew Griefe, 
 The Quintefence of my Complaint clofe pent, 
 Wherein my Hart hath line without reliefe : 
 
 The Glaffe wherein my forrowes each may fee, 
 Thou cruell Alba, thus hafte plagued me. 
 
 Thinke on the Meftfull Months Minde I ftill keepe, 
 
 Depriu'de of thee, how I doe liue forlorne, . 
 
 All night I figh, all day I waile and weepe, 
 
 As one that hath all pleafure quite forfworne : 
 Thus (carefull I) doe care for careles thee, 
 Whilft wretchles thou, makfl: no account of mee. 
 
 Knewft thou what t'were to Loue, and what to hate, . 
 
 I know with Malice thine thou wouldft difpence. 
 
 And wouldft enhaunce my Bale to bliffefuH ftate, . 
 
 And Loue with Loue, not Rigor recompence ; 
 Ah gainft me doe not thou thy wrath incite, 
 Monftrous it is, Loue to repaye with fpite. 
 
 Be gracious then, though I haue graceles bin> 
 
 Let Fauour thine, aboue my Merit fhow, 
 
 Againft the Tide, why fhouldfl thou alwaies fwira ; 
 
 And as a froward Tortoys backeward goe ? 
 
 Not Night, but Light giue me with thofe faire Eyes, 
 Fierce Serpents (not milde Doues) enuenomife. 
 
 F3 To 
 
 85 
 
ALBA. 
 
 To thee (Deare Faire) that makft me fare amiffe. 
 To thee my Goddeffe I my prayers make, 
 And proftrate fall before thy Skrine of Bliffe, 
 Crauing of thee, that them in worth thou take, 
 
 Whileft I to thee my Hart in humble wife, 
 
 Vpon thy beautious Altar facrifife. 
 
 Perufe with kindenes this my fad complaint. 
 
 Since I with pacience doe abide the paine. 
 
 And but thy willing eare herewith acquaint. 
 
 So thy remembrance not forget the fame : 
 Thy hart gainft me, not ftill induratize. 
 But my fad thoughts in me retranquillize. 
 
 I will not leaue, vntill I leaue to loue, 
 (And leaue to loue I will not till I die) 
 But thy hard flintie Breafl He fomewhat moue, 
 To moane my Griefe, the caufe I alwaies crie, 
 Crie will I to thee till my Voyce be hoarfe. 
 And neuer leaue thee till thou take remorfe. 
 
 From thy faire eyes, the Sunnes Precurfors bright, 
 This fire hath fprung, which all my parts doth burne. 
 No Art-Enammeld lines that I do write. 
 No prais nor praiers, to Mercie thee can turne : 
 
 , Yet come the worft, the Age (to come) Ihall fay, 
 I bare the prize for Conjlancie away. 
 
 Burnhani. To \sic\ 
 
 86 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Now earthly Goddeffe haue thou fome regard 
 
 To me thy feruant, crauing what is iuft, 
 
 Though long at laft, yeelde to me fome rewarde, 
 
 Since I relie on thee, and wholy truft. 
 
 Thinke on the pennance fore I doe endure, 
 Which to my Soule, thine Abfence doth procure. 
 
 Support my feeble Thoughts, that fcarfe can moue, 
 For thou wert wont, fuch, better to commend, 
 Who would perfift more loyall in their Loue, 
 And perfeuere vnto the lateft end. 
 
 Then thofe, who whe Loues courfe they gan to run, 
 Would giue it ore, before halfe way were done. 
 
 I cannot doe fo, for my longing Hart, 
 Is knit in thine, in fuch perfe6lion ftrange. 
 That Death thefe twaine in funder cannot part. 
 Nor length of Time, nor Places diflant change : 
 Thy Beautious Vertue, Vertuous Beautie tis. 
 That makes me ioy in noy, take Bale for blis. 
 
 Ah where art thou kinde Friend/hip that of yore 
 Still with thy cheerefull fmile, didft comfort mee ? 
 And fweetely wouldft with me my ftate deplore, 
 When heauie, fad, and grieu'd thou didft me fee .' 
 
 Ah where are thofe Alcinoi dales as now .' 
 
 I Metamorphofde am, I know not how. 
 
 F 4 Cleere 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Cleere fhines the Sonne, yet fhines it not on me, 
 
 Faire is the Morne, yet darkened is my Light, 
 
 Others the Spring, I Fall of leafe doe fee, 
 
 Whilefl I enioy no Day, but gloomy Night ; 
 
 Thou art the caufe (fweete Alba for thy Loue, 
 In abfence thine) thefe bitter Brunts I proue. 
 
 Whilefl: thou like Princeffe entertained art, 
 
 By thy kinde Tenants in moft dutious wife, 
 
 Seeking to fliew the zeal of their pure Hart, 
 
 By all the pleafmg meanes they can deuife. 
 Striuing who (hall thee better entertaine, 
 (Signes of thy welcome home to them againe.) 
 
 I here am left alone, all pofte alone. 
 
 As Loves true Pledge, that lies for Faith to Pawne, 
 
 Onely to wait thy parture and to mone, 
 
 Whileft my Conceits on Sorrowes Tent are drawne. 
 
 Like to the Bird, on folitarie branch, 
 
 Wailing his Mates fowre loffe through hard mifchace. 
 
 Then louely thou my Harts deare Treafurer, 
 
 Let me obtaine this Fauour at thy Grace, 
 
 That thou delay no longer nor defer, 
 
 But daine me once more, fee thy heauenly face. 
 Elfe here I vow, (if fo thou come not foone) 
 Me, (halt thou not fee, thou (halt fee my Toome. 
 
 Now 
 
 88 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Now that my weary fpirits do runne their race, 
 To thofe tranfplendent Lamps of Alba faire : 
 And gazing there (in vaine) do plead for grace, 
 Leaning their ancient lodging nakte and bare. 
 She as their Foe stands on her Brauerie, 
 And paffage to their Entrance doth denie. 
 
 They finding Ihut faft clofe, milde Pities gate, 
 
 And feeing in what danger I remaine, 
 
 With hafte returne from whence they came of late, 
 
 Retiring to their wonted Home againe. 
 
 Where they repofe, of Hope quite difpoffeft, 
 And there with Feare and Care together reft. 
 
 Difdaine thofe eyes fpoyles, that before were bright, 
 
 And fierce^Defire, that to reuenge hath minde 
 
 Increafeth ftill in hart to worke me fpite, 
 
 Deuifing how to make her more vnkinde : 
 The one, the Bellowes vnto Furie blowes, 
 The other, flaue to wrathful! Anger fhowes. 
 
 But though to me fhe feemes as pitileffe, 
 Seeking my Death, without caufe to confpire : 
 Yet will I beare with all wrongs nere the leffe, 
 • Refplu'd to bide the vtmoft of her ire : 
 
 Againft her wrath He true and Humble be, 
 For Faiths my Fence, my Shield's, Humilitie. 
 
 Poore 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Poore Meleager being in difdaine, 
 
 With furious Altea (cruell mother his) 
 
 She flang his fatall Brand in fierie flame, 
 
 Long time kept by her, (as her chiefeft blis) 
 So as through fire it did (confumde) decay, 
 His wretched life did peece-meale wafte away. 
 
 Altea, mine Alba is, Meleager I, 
 
 T\i& fatall Brand where bides my life, her Lone: 
 
 No longer then flie keepes this happely. 
 
 For me, no longer may my fpirits moue. 
 
 Long time Affeilion kept it, but as now 
 She flings it in the flame with angrie brow. 
 
 Anger's the Fire, SufpeSl kindles the Flame, 
 Conceit's the Bellowes, wherewith fhe doth blow : 
 Hajle was the hand which flung it in the fame. 
 The Coles, Vnkindnes, that did burne it fo. 
 Ah, but one drop of Water of her Grace, 
 If fo I had, twould quencht be in fmall fpace. 
 
 Thus do I burne, and burning breathe my laft. 
 And breathing lafl:, to naught confume away : 
 Like to that Lampe whofe Oyle when it doth waflie, 
 By lefler light, and leffer doth decay. 
 
 Yet in this Fire I crie fl:ill for to moue her, 
 
 Ah pitie me th'vnhappieft loyall Louer. 
 
 Thou 
 
 90 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Thou folitarie Mountaine, Mount of Mone, 
 
 Pleafmg to me, mine only folace chiefe, 
 
 How like are we ? we two feeme but as One, 
 
 Since thou fhewfty^^, and I ftill, to haue Grief e, 
 
 Thou with wilde fauadge Woods art compaft round, 
 And in my Bread fharp auftere Thoughts are found. 
 
 The huger Hill in bignes thou doft fliow, 
 
 The more, (AH) thee vncouth and fauadge deeme : 
 
 The more that I in yeares in Loue do grow. 
 
 The more deformed Creature I do feeme. 
 
 Water from thee, from euery fide doth come, 
 And teares from out mine eyes as Fountaines run. 
 
 Thou doft abide the bluftring furious winde, 
 
 The paine of skalding fighs perforce I feele : 
 
 Tempefts and ftormes, to thee are oft vnkinde, 
 
 But worfe to me is Albas Hart of fteele : 
 
 Thou ftrooken art by loues fire from aboue» 
 And I am blafted with Lightning of Loue. 
 
 Thou wanteft Fruit, and I am without Hart, 
 
 Only in this my Griefes do thine exceede. 
 
 That where as thou infenfible ftill art, 
 
 I (iiuing) feele too well the Brunt indeede. 
 Yet wert thou worfe I like in thee to ftay. 
 Since that my Pearle, mine Alba's gone her way. 
 
 O 
 
 91 
 
ALBA. 
 
 that I might my Griefes fet downe at large, 
 And to the world make knowne mine Iniurie : 
 But I not dare, the Cruell giues in charge 
 Them to keepe clofe, and This beare patientlie : 
 
 Being fo grieuous, as but part to know, 
 Would make the flintieft Hart to fplit for woe. 
 
 Befides, if I my Croffes fliould reueale, 
 They would renew my forrowes frefh againe : 
 Therefore I vowed haue them to conceale, 
 The more to feele the depth of lafting Paine : 
 Reaping not only difcontent hereby, 
 But all Defpayre of future remedie. 
 
 How fecret haue I bin, this feuen whole yeare, 
 That fcarce I haue not yet, nor yet fcarce dare 
 To tell her Name, I fo much ftill do feare, 
 To purchafe th' anger of this sdainfull Faire .' 
 How Faithfull, that haue offred her to pleafe, 
 To dye for her .' fo ought I might her eafe. 
 
 But what auailes all this } for all my griefe, 
 
 1 cannot hope fhe euer will be kinde : 
 When fhe was prefent I nere found reliefe, 
 
 And (in her abfence) think you fhe'le me minde .' 
 O no, as likelie tis, fhe'le pitie mee. 
 As I am like (vnlikely) her to fee. 
 
 So 
 
ALBA. 
 
 So great a griefe did neuer pearce the Hart, 
 
 Of any louing Mother ouer kinde, 
 
 When (he her only fonne readie to part, 
 
 Doth fee to forraine Countrie gainft her minde, 
 Lofing the ftafife of her old Age and flay, 
 On whom the Hope of all her Comfort lay. 
 
 As wofull I, when I thofe louely Eyes 
 Saw to looke back, which I fhould fee no more 
 Of many daies, and when in pitious wife, 
 They fliewd by fignes Our parting grieu'd them fore. 
 Ah when her laft looke back on me (he caft. 
 Then, then, I thought I fhould haue breath'd my laft. 
 
 Yet for my Harts fake did my fpirits reuiue. 
 
 And life once more recouered they againe, 
 
 Whilft ftaring after her I kept aliue, 
 
 And thought that I (not feeing her) faw her plaine. 
 Long time my Powers were got into my fight. 
 Deluding me with pleafmg falfe Delight. 
 
 But now that her rare Beautie Hues els where, 
 He waile with teares her Abfence, (my Difgrace) 
 With weeping I my fight away will weare. 
 Which skornes to looke on any but that Face. 
 Eyes be Reclufes, you can weep no more, 
 And (Hart) fmce She is gone, weep bloody gore. 
 
 Ye 
 
 93 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ye Hoarie Hils, and Icie waters colde, 
 If what frefli April! giues, fliarp laniuere 
 To take away from you himfelfe fliewes bolde : 
 Yet quickly doth the Sunne with pleafmg cheere, 
 Reftore to you your Liueries greene againe, 
 Aad flowring Banks longlt which you ftreme amain. 
 
 But now to me from whom mine Alba faire, 
 Still hides her felfe, all Hope is withered quite : 
 Nor will ftie fhew her felfe, to eafe my Care, 
 For my yong Plant an eauious froft doth bite, 
 Since that fame hart that gentle was of yore, 
 Hardning it felfe gainft me, flill fwelleth more. 
 
 Nature (you) gouernes, but Lone rules ore mee ; 
 
 Nature is louing as a Mother kinde, 
 
 Loue, worfe then cruell Step dame is to fee, 
 
 And to my lofle (gainft confcience) doth me binde, 
 Taking from me mine ancient Priuiledge 
 Whereby I Hue, my dales for to abridge. 
 
 Then happie Hils you fhall be greene againe, 
 
 And bleffed Springs your Courfes you Ihall holde : 
 
 But if that flie reuiue not that hath llaine, 
 
 I foone fhall dye, Conceit is growne fo cold, 
 
 Left her warme Sunne glide hither it to thaw. 
 My freezing Hart no more his breath fhall draw. 
 
 How 
 
 94 
 
ALBA. 
 
 How long fhall I knock at that Iron Gate, 
 Of thy hard Hart, for mercie ? (but in vaine ?) 
 How long my Griefes to thy deaffe eares relate, 
 And reape nought els but trauell for my paine ? 
 Yet ftill He hope, fmce Acornes, Okes become 
 And tynie drops proue Floods that dreaming runne. 
 
 Thy face is faire, yeeld Fauour then to mee ; 
 Thy hart is flefh, not bone, then gently fhow ; 
 Ah let thy Lone with thy fweet Cheere agree. 
 And to atonement we Ihall quickly grow : 
 
 My Loue which is to thee more then extreame, 
 
 Requite not with a fortune ouer meane. 
 
 If thou fhouldft be Vnfaithfull in thy Loue, 
 
 Where fhould I flie for fuccour, or for Truth ? 
 
 If th'owlt not heare ray fute, whom (hould I moue ? 
 
 If thou be Cruell, who will then fhew Ruth ? 
 If thou Deceit fhalt vfe, twill likely be, 
 Others difpence will with deepft fubtiltie. 
 
 More triall then th' haft had thou canft not haue ; 
 (How oft) my fecret Harts depth wilt thou found ? 
 Wilt thou my blood fpill when thou maift it faue ? 
 When thou maift heale my Grief, ftill wilt thou wound ? 
 
 Ah do not {Surgion like) Anatomife 
 
 Each muskle of my griefe in cruell wife. 
 
 Sick 
 
 95 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Sick in my lothed Bed I languifh faft, 
 Nor can my learned Doflor help me ought, 
 His cunning now is at the lateft caft, 
 Yet he no eafe to crafed me hath brought. 
 
 And marueile none though he no helpe can finde, 
 Sicke am I not in Bodie, but in minde. 
 
 My hart each houre doth worfe and worfer proue, 
 And my Difeafe ertcreafeth more and more, 
 Becaufe he wants her fight whom I doe loue : 
 Nor can I haue a falue for this my fore. 
 
 Leffe fo much labour, LovE for me doth take, 
 As my Phifition, Alba faire to make. 
 
 Sicke is my foule, my Body languifheth, 
 Th' one's farre from health, the other's nothing nie : 
 So as I doubtfull liue, fcarce drawing breath, 
 Twixt feare and hope in this extremitie. 
 
 A ftrange Confumption hath me wafted long, 
 
 And for a Pearle reftoratiue I long. 
 
 This for me, then all Phifick is moft fure, 
 Or els I doubt I neuer fliall be whole : 
 For whilft that Nature would my Bodie cure, 
 Loue (peftilenzing) doth infe6l my foule. 
 
 Then Alba {hew now if thou be'ft Diuine. 
 
 Raife Dead to life, for now, or nere tis time. 
 
 Why 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Why fliould I loue, when I am loathed ftill ? 
 And praife her ftill, who feekes me to difpraife ? 
 Why (hould graue reafon yeelde to headftrong will, 
 My Griefes the more to multiplie and raife. 
 
 I doe commit Idolatrie extreme 
 
 With her, whom I fhould rather right blafpheme. 
 
 Fire if it warme not, for no Fire we deeme. 
 
 The Sunne, no Sunne we count, except it (liine, 
 
 Water no water, but it wet do feeme, 
 
 Vertue no vertue, left it fhow fome figne : 
 No Woman is fhe, thats not pitiful!. 
 Rather Prides Spaune, a nice difdainefull Trull. 
 
 Haue I tranfgreft the Boundes of Modeftie ? 
 
 Whifpering vndecent fpeeches in her Eare, 
 
 Or haue I (ere) affailde her Chaftitie, 
 
 And fought the fpoyle thereof away to beare? 
 If I haue fhamde my felf in fuch groffe wife, 
 Why then ftie reafon hath me to defpife. 
 
 Ah no, far be it from my harmeles Thought, 
 
 Such bafe vnfeemely tricks to her to moue, 
 
 A matter fmall it was (God knowes) I fought, 
 
 Onely to be Retainer to her Loue. 
 
 No fcandall t'is, t'is no Difparagement, 
 
 Seruice t'accept, where naught but Honors ment. 
 
 G Faine 
 
 97 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Faine would I take of quiet fleepe the Say, 
 
 My wearied Corfe with eafe for to delight, 
 
 But I no wifhed reft can finde by Day, 
 
 Nor flumber fweetely in my bed by Night. 
 No reft I wretched man as yet can take, 
 My woes are fuch, as force me ftill to wake. 
 
 My Trueth is meafured by my Fortune hard, 
 
 And I (poore foule) Vnfaithfull iudged am, 
 
 Becaufe I feeme Vnhappie ; and am bard 
 
 Fro all good Chance : (Gainft right) I beare the blame, 
 But willingly ; (fmce fhe doth will) I fhall 
 Whofe Abfence turnes my Hony into Gaule 
 
 Yet faine I flumber would, though but a while j 
 
 But if I cannot with that Fode be fed, 
 
 I will embrace (the time for to beguile) 
 
 Such golden Thoughts as are within my head. 
 
 Golden indeede, Golde Thoughts of fuch a one. 
 As I prefer fore Golde, though fhe a Stone 
 
 But fleepe, or die. Then, dye, thou canft not fleepe, 
 
 For thee to fleepe it is impoflibell, 
 
 To thinke what's paft, broade waking will thee keepe : 
 
 Which thou muft ftill conceale, not any tell. 
 My comfort's this, that waking as I die, 
 I fee my Loue in Thought, though not with eye. 
 
 Pure 
 
 98 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Pure luorie white, with fpot of Crimfon red, 
 
 Where Beauties Firjl Borne lay the perfeft Molde, 
 
 Or like Aurora rifing from her Bed, 
 
 Such was mine Alba faire for to beholde. 
 
 Such was She, when She louely LovE ore came, 
 The Conquerors Glory, Conquereds Pleajing Shame. 
 
 But now that Cullor faire hath changde his grace. 
 
 Through Burning Feuer, (deadly in his kinde) 
 
 And Sallow Palenes ftained hath that Face, 
 
 To whom the Prize for Fauour was affinde, 
 Sicke is my Lady, ficke is all Delight, 
 And brighteft Day is turnde to darkeft Night. 
 
 Fortune hath ftolne from Alba, tooke from Love, 
 
 From him fhe takes his Solace, Sport and Play ; 
 
 From Her her Beautie which fhe would improue. 
 
 And to her felfe, would (falfely) it conuay. 
 Being Pitifull fhe Cruell feemes to be 
 And in her Blindenes fheweth that fhe can fee. 
 
 Falfe Fortune darke as Molle in any Good ; 
 
 But to doe Hurt, as Argus, full of Eyes, 
 
 In outward fhew, a Tiger fierce and wood : 
 
 And yet to me flie's kinde in piteous wife. 
 
 Since She, by drawing Beautie from that place, 
 Quencht hath my Fier, to eafe me for a fpace. 
 
 G 2 My 
 
 99 
 
ALBA. 
 
 My Harte vpon his Deathbed, ficke, did lye, 
 
 Calling vpon proud Alba but in vaine ; 
 
 Too Cruell fhe, (for pittie) it did crie, 
 
 Yet had Repulfe through Rigor of Difdaine. 
 So as to Hue thus (long) it could not bide, 
 But foone gaue vp the Ghoft, and fo he dide. 
 
 Then to 'Cae Chappell of bad Fortune hard, 
 
 By fmoking fighes it quickelie was conuaide, 
 
 A place for thefe fad Funerals preparde, 
 
 Where in a Tombe of Loyaltie t'was laide. 
 
 Anger, Sufpe6l, Griefe, Sorow, Care, and Feare, 
 With difmall Doubtes, the chiefeft mourners were. 
 
 About the Hierce, great ftore of Teares were (hed ; 
 
 The Torches that did burne fo cleare and bright. 
 
 Were Albas eyes by Crueltie milled, 
 
 Whilefb Ihe triumpht to fee fo woful fight. 
 
 Pittie the Dirge did fmg with wofuU Plaint, 
 Afsifted with a blacke and difmall Saunt. 
 
 Vpon the Monument yplaced was 
 
 Fire, Sworde, and Corde, with Arrowes fliarpe & keene, 
 
 The Epitaph (for fuch as by ftiould pas) 
 
 Was thus fubfcribde, and carued to be feene. 
 Loehere that gentle Hart entombde doth lie, 
 Whom cruell Alba caufeles forjl to die. 
 
 Poore 
 
 lOCr 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Poore Soule, in couert ioy, thy Care fauns reft, 
 VVeare Willow in thy Hat, Baies in thy Hart, 
 Gold when it bubleth leaft, then boyles it beft 
 Water runs fmootheft in the deepeft part. 
 By thy great warines let it be feene, 
 Not what thou now art, but what thou haft; beene. 
 
 The greateft comfort (as a Louers dew) 
 Is, of his Miftris Secrets, much to know. 
 Yet no leffe labor for him (being Trew) 
 Then naught to fay, nor ought thereof to fliew : 
 
 Of men we learne to fpeake, things to reueale, 
 
 Of Gods, filent to be, and to conceale. 
 
 Yet's fweete the Beautie of mine Alba faire : 
 
 What blabft thou it ? yea blab it willinglie : 
 
 Bees that doe die, with honey buried are. 
 
 With dulcet notes, and heauenly Harmonic : 
 
 And they that dying, doe Beautie ftill commend, 
 Shall be with kindenes honoured in the end. 
 
 Then hope thou well, and haue well (as they fay) 
 
 Long haue I hopte, but Hoping is in vaine, 
 
 Hope with AUufions, dallying doth me pay, 
 
 Yet but for Hope, the Hart would breake in twaine. 
 Ah Melt my Hart, would Melted once thou were, 
 Thou fhouldft not then haue caufe fo much to feare. 
 
 G3 The 
 
ALBA. 
 
 The Fall of Leafe, the Springtide of my Loue, 
 Flowring a frefli with Hope I found to bee : 
 But now (alas) the Spring time for to proue, 
 Fall of the Leafe of my lofi Loue I fee. 
 
 The Carnouale of my fweet LoVE is paft, 
 Now comes the Lent of my long Hate at laft. 
 
 Love is reuolted, whilfl he (Traytor like) 
 Againfl his prince (gainft me his Soueraigne) 
 Weapons vniuft (fauns caufe) takes vp to fight, 
 And doth his fealtie and his Homage flaine. 
 He is reuolted and mine Alba'S fled, 
 I feeme aliue here, yet in deede am dead. 
 
 In vaine I wifh for what I cannot haue, 
 
 And feeke with griefe to aggrauate my Mone : 
 
 What is to me denied, that flill I craue, 
 
 Gaulling my felfe with fond Conceits alone : 
 Yet I forgiue her, little knoweth fhe, 
 That fhe her owne Hart wounds when fhe kils me. 
 
 Meantime in vncouth Sorrowes fecret Cell, 
 
 My haples Fortune hard I will dlfiefl. 
 
 Hating all ioy, I priuat there will dwell, 
 
 Eecaufe I of my wifh am difpoffefl. 
 
 Like Pttrark chajle of Laura coy I plaine, 
 Of whom I (neuer yet) could Fauotir gaine. 
 
 How 
 
 102 
 
ALBA. 
 
 How long fnall I importune thee with Cries, 
 And preffe thee for fome Grace (Jiard flintie Dame f) 
 How long my fute deplore in pitious wife, 
 And yet be fruftrate of that I complaine ? 
 
 Vrge me with ought if fo thou canft of 111 
 
 Do but obieft, and anfwer thee I will. 
 
 Cite me at Loves great Audit to appeare, 
 
 And if a iujl account I giue not thee 
 
 Of all my Life, fmce Loyall I did fweare 
 
 Vnto thy Criiell felfe, cajheere thou mee : 
 
 But if I true haue bin and dealt vpright, 
 Thou doft me wrong to fet by me fo light. 
 
 More then high time tis for thee to relent, 
 'My forrowes flowes aboue their wonted Bound, 
 And well nie breake my Hart where they are pent, 
 (For fo great Force) a too too flender ground. 
 Then me fupplant not from my wifhed reft. 
 But do abiure harfh Rigor from thy breft. 
 
 Affe6l me (not infli6l on me) frefh woe 
 Thy Loue, my feruice merits, not thy Hate, 
 My loyall Hart to thee, didft thou but know, 
 Thou wouldil not thus reuenge, but rew my ftate : 
 
 Nor am I ouer bolde in what I craue, 
 
 Pitie (not Fauour) I defire to haue. 
 
 G 4 Tawny 
 
 103 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Tawny and Black, my Courtly Colours be, 
 Tawny, (becaufe forfooke I am) I weare : 
 Black, (fmce mine Albas Loue is dead to me. 
 Yet Hueth in another) I do beare. 
 
 Then welcome Tawny, fmce I am forfaken. 
 And come deare BLACK, fmce my Loue's from me 
 
 (taken. 
 The princelike Eagle's neuer fmit with Thunder, 
 Nor th' Oliue tree with Lightning blafted fhowes : 
 No marueile then it is to me, or wonder. 
 Though my Coy Dame, in Loue to me hard growes : 
 More deafe to me fhe is then fenfles ftock. 
 Her Hart's obdurate like the hardned rock. 
 
 But what meane I thus without Reafon prate ? 
 
 I am no more forfaken then I was : 
 
 My Loue's no more dead then it was of late ; 
 
 For yet mine Alba nere for me did paffe. 
 
 My Loue's not dead, fhe neuer me forfooke, 
 For Alba (nere yet) me in fauour tooke. 
 
 As many Fauours haue I as before : 
 For fmce I her (firft) lou'd, fhe me difdainde, 
 And ftill doth fo, ftill wounding me the more, 
 As in defpayre I haue ere fmce remainde : 
 
 Yet I in BLACK and Tawny Weedes will goe, 
 Becaufe forfooke, and dead I am with woe. 
 
 Loves 
 
 104 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Loves Labor Lost, I once did fee a Play, 
 
 Ycleped fo, fo called to my paine, 
 
 Which I to heare to my fmall loy did ftay, 
 
 Giuing attendance on my froward Dame, 
 My mifgiuing minde prefaging to me III, 
 Yet was I drawne to fee it gainft my Will. 
 
 This Play no Play, but Plague was vnto me, 
 For there I loft the Loue I liked moft : 
 And what to others feemde a left to be, 
 I, that (in earneft) found vnto my coft. 
 
 To euery one (faue me) twas Comicall, 
 
 Whilft Tragick like to me it did befall. 
 
 Each A(5lor plaid in cunning wife his part. 
 But chiefly Thofe entrapt in Cupids fnare : 
 Yet all was fained, twas not from the hirt. 
 They feemde to grieue, but yet they felt no care : 
 
 Twas I that Griefe (indeed) did beare in breft, 
 
 The others did but make a (how in left. 
 
 Yet neither faining theirs, nor my meere Truth, 
 
 Could make her once fo much- as for to fmile : 
 
 Whilft ftie (defpite of pitie milde and ruth) 
 
 Did fit as skorning of my Woes the while. 
 
 Thus did fhe fit to fee Love lofe his Love, 
 
 Like hardned Rock that force nor power can moue. 
 
 My 
 
 105 
 
ALBA. 
 
 My lifes Catajlrophe is at an end, 
 The Staffe whereon my fickly Loue did leane 
 And which from falling (ftill) did him defend, 
 Is through mifchance in funder broken cleane. 
 
 Gone is my Mediatrix, my beft Aduocate, 
 
 Who vfde for me to intercefsionate. 
 
 Ah that my Loue cannot aright be waide 
 
 In Ballance iuft, as merits due defart. 
 
 But muft with Hate (for her Goodwill be paide) 
 
 Whereof TK exchequer is mine Albas Hart. 
 The Saphire cut with his owne dujl may be, 
 Mine owne pure Faith, in Loue confoundeth me. 
 
 be not ftill vnto me (thus) feuere, 
 
 But rsithtr Jimplejl milde in Jicknes mine : 
 
 Honey with Gawle, Oyle mix with Vineger, 
 
 With frownes, blithe fmiles, fome fweete with fower of 
 Giue me (to comfort mine) a Lenatiue, (thine, 
 
 But not t' encreafe my Paine, ftiarp Corajiue. 
 
 Canft thou endure that as a Ghojl or Sprite, 
 
 1 ftill fliould haunt thee with my irkfome cryes ? 
 Ah yet at laft vnto thy felfe be like, 
 
 Some pitie ftiew from out thofe murthring eyes. 
 If th'owlt not grant my fute, nor louing be, 
 At leaft, yet in my Griefe, do flatter me. 
 
 Deare 
 
 io6 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Deare Parler, (louing lodging vnto me) 
 
 Mine only Walke and Garden of Delight, 
 
 Ah who hath tooke thy Beautie now from thee ? 
 
 And reft from me what mofb did pleafe my fight ? 
 Ah if our wonted Sunne do not returne, 
 (As abfent Her) fo, me, (dead) ftialt thou mourne. 
 
 My Hart that fcarce his fainting breath drawes hard, 
 Demaundeth ftill his tribute of mine eyes : 
 Needes muft I fay a too too fmall reward 
 Whilft he his Mafters forrowes oremuch tries. 
 
 (Poore Hart) thy Mafter wrongs thee I confeffe, 
 
 Yet cannot he amend it neer the leffe, 
 
 I beare my part with thee in this fad mone, 
 
 In this fad Quire where dolefull Notes I fmg : 
 
 For not to any but to me alone. 
 
 This Roomth as vncouth feemes, and griefe doth bring, 
 Yet fince fhe here did vfe her walke to make, 
 Thefe naked Walls He honor for her fake. 
 
 Ah Quondam Temple of my Goddeffe faire, 
 
 Great reafon haue I thee for to adore : 
 
 Thy Boords and Windowes I do holde as rare. 
 
 Since thou haft entertainde her heretofore, 
 
 Though Saint be gone, and nought be left but Shrine, 
 Yet for her Loue He hold thee as Diuine. 
 
 Shall 
 
 107 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Shall thefe fame Eyes, but now no Eyes at all, 
 
 Raine Teares ftill thus ? and fhall this my poore Hart 
 
 In vaine vpon a flintie Corfe ftill call 
 
 For mercie, who no Mercie will impart ? 
 
 Shal this my Tongue now hoarfe, with (Pi tie) crying, 
 Nere finde reliefe, but ftill a Voice denying ? 
 
 Ah partiall Love ! Ah, World vnmeet for men ! 
 Ah maners fit for fauadge Beafts to loathe ! 
 Ah wicked Fortune thus doft quit me then ! 
 Becaufe thou feeft my felfe with Loue I cloathe, 
 
 Another ftiall defpoyle me and vnbare ? 
 
 Is this reward for faith vowde to the Faire ? 
 
 Sweet meate fowre fauce deferues, I muft confeffe, 
 
 But pure Loue, fhould nere purchafe Hate in right : 
 
 By Ones Difdaine, which is remedileffe, 
 
 I liue to like (vnlou'd) to worke my fpight. 
 
 Wretched's that Wight, but faithfull Patterne rare, 
 That doth through Loue, Death to him felfe prepare. 
 
 Now by thefe brinifh teares that outwardly 
 Diftill from weeping eyes, like fliowers of raine : 
 And by thofe drops of blood vnfeene of eye. 
 Which inwardly from hart ftreame downe amaine : 
 
 And by what els I haue, All which is Thine, 
 
 Begin to loue, els end this life of mine. 
 
 Ah 
 
 loS 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ah Alba faire, ah me vnfortunate ! 
 Ah that my Birth's fo low, my Thoughts fo hie, 
 My due Defires fo great, fo poore my ftate. 
 As not to ioy my Right, deferuinglie ! 
 
 How might I pleafe thee, thee for to poffeffe ? 
 
 With how great will would I my felfe addreffe ? 
 
 Will Labours patient of Extremities 
 Obtaine the fauour of thy long fought Loue ? 
 I will attempt, if fo thou but deuife, 
 Monfters to tame, and Mountaines to remoue : 
 Alcides like, all things I will fubdue 
 So I may finde thee gracious when I fue. 
 
 Doft thou the pafllons of deep Loue defire ? 
 The fad defpayring moode of perplext minde. 
 The nere expreft (through hidden torments) Fire 
 Of racked Thoughts ? doft couet this to finde ? 
 
 Mark my deep fighs, my hollow eyes, fait teares, 
 My broken fleepes, my heauy countnance beares. 
 
 Wouldft thou I to thy Beautie vowde fhould bee ? 
 
 And in thy feruice fpend my long lifes time ? 
 
 Remember then my folitarie life for thee. 
 
 This feuen whole yeares (a Prentijhip of mine) 
 
 Tis true (thou knowfl) where ere thou (now) remaine. 
 Then be appeafde, and pleafde to eafe my paine. 
 
 Say 
 
 109 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Say then faire Alba, faire, yet full of fpight, 
 
 What haue I done that thou fhouldft me vndoe ? 
 
 Holding thee Deare, why fets by me fo light ? 
 
 Why filent art thou when to thee I fue ? 
 
 The more Submifliue I, and Humble am, 
 
 Why gainft me doft thy felfe ^iWfdainfuU frame ? 
 
 Whom haue I but mine owne Thoughts entertainde, 
 
 And thy rare Vertues ? and what companie 
 
 But Contemplation, hath with me remainde ? 
 
 And whom haue I ftill wondred at but thee ? 
 
 Whom haue I not contemnd for thee, fmce time 
 I firft beheld that matchles fhape of thine ? 
 
 Haue I not crept to fome, not trod with feete 
 On them, caufe thou to fauour them I faw ? 
 Haue not all Iniuries to me bin fweete ? 
 If thou didft will me beare them, twas a Law. 
 
 Haue I not fpent my golden yeares with Hope ? 
 
 Seeking nought but thy Loue (my Wiflies fcope.) 
 
 Yet in the midft of thefe dijlempered Thoughts, 
 
 Thou art not only lelous of my Truth, 
 
 But makft account of me, farre worfe then Noughts, 
 
 Nor doft by Meffage yeeld me any Ruth : 
 My Loue vnfpotted, cannot be accepted, 
 My Truth (O ftrange) vnfpeakable's reie£led. 
 
 Like 
 
 110 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Like to this Sea, LoVE hath me fafhiond right, 
 
 He full of water, I replete with woe : 
 
 He boyles and bubleth vp in open fight, 
 
 I fret and rage where ere I (wandring) goe : 
 
 He flowes, and boue his banks the furges rife, 
 (From me) fait teares gulh forth in ftreaming wife. 
 
 He water wants not, nor my Griefes decreafe ; 
 Thoufands of quickfands hath he all about, 
 I, thoufand cares that on my Hart do feafe : 
 His waues are cut in tv/aine, my Hart, throughout. 
 
 The whiftling reedes about his banks do found. 
 
 Sorrow in me is of my fong the ground. 
 
 Both windes and raine vpon him (daily) fall, 
 
 I ftill, diftill fait (howres and fighs amaine : 
 
 By tempefts, oft his Channels broke are all. 
 
 My Bowels cleft be with continuall paine : 
 
 His bottome none can well perceiue or fee. 
 My Torments without depth fauns founding bee. 
 
 Only we differ thus, he ftill doth bide 
 
 Here, fwallowing them that paffe alongft this place, 
 
 I vade away, and {Cruell Homicide) 
 
 Murther I doe niy felfe in pitious cafe. 
 
 Who then can rid me {Notamie of Woe) 
 
 From thefe hell plagues .' None, but my Cruell Foe. 
 
 Alba 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Alba I haue not liued ouer long, 
 Yet haue I hollow eyes, and haires halfe gray : 
 My yeares not many, for I am but yong, 
 Though wrinckled be my cheekes and lims decay. 
 
 But is this Deftinie, or ift pure Deceit ? 
 
 That hath on me (thus) wrought this cunning feat ? 
 
 Ift be the firft, why then none could preuent 
 
 My wretched Stars to fcape this miferie.' 
 
 Ift be the latter that fuch ill me ment, 
 
 I needes muft think it was mine Enemie. 
 
 It was (indeed), thy felfe it was {Faire Witch) 
 That with thy beautie wrought me to be fich. 
 
 Thou art too Faire (I fee) for to be true, 
 
 And too too Falfe for one that is fo Faire : 
 
 Yet for my wrongs thou feenleft not to rue, 
 
 Nor for my Croffes ought at All doil care : 
 
 And yet my Loue's more feruent ftill towards thee, 
 My fparks growne flames, my cinders bonfires bee. 
 
 Only I grieue my daies are at an end, 
 
 Fore I can of thee any fauour gaine : 
 
 And which is worfe, I likely am to fpend 
 
 All the Remainder, yet no Grace obtaine. 
 Vnhappie Pilgrim I, borne ftill to euill. 
 To flirine her for a Saint, who is a Deuill. 
 
 When 
 
ALBA. 
 
 When Beautie fickneth, then Dejire doth die, 
 Fauor doth vade moft flouring in his prime, 
 Then LoVE doth ebbe, when flowes Aduerjitie, 
 But Friendjhip bides out euerie ftormie Time. 
 Ah Alba I not doted haue on thee. 
 But lou'd thee deare, as deere as deere might bee. 
 
 AffeElion, (alivaies) either grounded is. 
 On Vertue ; (and Vertue nere peeuifh fliowes) 
 Or elfe on Beautie; (counted chiefeft bliffe) 
 And Beautie praifde, (through Loue) more fairer growes : 
 I neuer Peruerfe was, nor Sullen yet, 
 But praifde thy Beautie to mine vtmoft wit. 
 
 To thee, I, both a Friend and Loner am. 
 
 Yet euery Louer is no Conjiant Friend, 
 
 But who a Friend in Nature is and Name, 
 
 As Louer true begins, and true doth end : 
 
 Thy trueft Friend am I, more then another. 
 And vnto thee the faithfulft loyalft Louer. 
 
 Vertue (in me) AffeSlion fhall fubdue, 
 
 Wifedome, all Luji, my Friendjhip fweeteft Beautie, 
 
 He not be fickle, falfe, but conftant, true, 
 
 Seruing thee ftill, with all refpeft of Dutie ; 
 
 And when I Ihall be buried, dead and gone, 
 My Ghoft fhall (as thy Slaue) thee tend vpon, 
 
 H Ah 
 
 H3 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Ah Speake then, fhall thefe torments I endure, 
 
 Of Bloody Thoughts, and nere expreffed paine 
 
 Neuer remorfe of ftubborne thee procure ? 
 
 And fhall they breede (ftill) my eternall bane ? 
 Yet grant me, things impofsible to wifh. 
 To feede Conceite, fmce that no hurt it is. 
 
 Then fhalt thou fee (through this I holde fo deare) 
 
 He longe my life prolong, and Spirits fpend, 
 
 And to my felfe that Creature none may heare, 
 
 He foftlie call it Loue, till life fliall end. 
 And if what I thus whifper Any vrge, 
 lie name it Honor, fo my felfe to purge. 
 
 May I but this fweete Contemplation holde, 
 
 I then fhall Hue of All men mod content, 
 
 Taking more pleafure in my Thoughts though olde. 
 
 Than ere I did myouthly ASlions fpent. 
 
 Grant me this Grace, (to thee tis matter fmall) 
 And all my Croffes He fweete Bladings call. 
 
 Ah that tho'wldfb daigne, this might be chriftned Loue, 
 
 That Fauour (as reward) for it might be ; 
 
 But I doe feare, I fhall thee too much moue : 
 
 This ouer boldenes (Deareft) pardon me. 
 
 And let me hope one day fome gentle power, 
 May turne to Sweete, this my moft bitter Sower. 
 
 Time 
 
 114 
 
ALBA. 
 
 Time was and is, and euer (hall be ftill, 
 
 That I to honor thee will neuer fpare, 
 
 But for to call it Loue or Pure Goodwill, 
 
 I neuer durft, although I feemde to dare, 
 Then fufifer me, to follow this my Vaine* 
 Flattering my felfe, although I nothing gaine. 
 
 None pleafed hath mine eyes, but AlBa bright. 
 None but fweete Alba doth poffeffe my Hart, 
 Mine eares in Alba, onely take delight, 
 And this my Soule, from Alba nere (hall part. 
 
 To follow thee, all Fortunes He forfake. 
 
 And vnto thee alone, my felfe betake. 
 
 The Gods haue fet fuch difference twixt our ftate. 
 That all muft be, pure Dewtie, Reuerence ; 
 Nothing I muft terme Love (fuch is my Fate^ 
 Except thou daine, therewith for to difpence. 
 
 And fmce I know that fo thou doft command, 
 
 I condefcend will to it out of hand. 
 
 Yet my Vnfpotted Thoughts, my pining Corfe, 
 My Difcontented Life, let them obtaine 
 One bleffed Fauour through thy kinde remorfe. 
 Though they not merit leaft part of the fame. 
 So I with loy Ihall end my wearie dales, 
 And dying, found abroad thy nere dying Praife, 
 
 H2 If 
 
 IIS 
 
The Conclufion of the laft Part. 
 
 IF Vertuous Loue be Honor, and no Shame, 
 Let no man (caufeles) feeke my chajle Dejire, 
 To bridle in with bafe conceited raine, 
 Since Virtue kindled in my breji this fire: 
 
 Tlte Wife^(I fiope) will no Exceptions take, 
 
 Nor Gainjl my Loue, nor gainjl tltefe Toyes I make. 
 
 For by the Diall of Difcretion found, 
 
 Mine AHions all, and Cariage I dire6l, 
 
 Andfearfull am I, leafl I Jhould be found, 
 
 T'haue done amijfe, in any due refpe£l. 
 
 (Ladie) / hope no line is herefet dowue, 
 Sauns awfull looking backe vnto your frowne. 
 
 No Worthleffe Thought doth lodge within my brefl, 
 Since (as my Guides) 1 follow thy f aire Eyes. 
 Sparkes of true Vertue in me now doe reft, 
 Infufed by tkofe beames in wondrous wife: 
 
 Thofe with an vncouth flame fet me on fire. 
 
 The richefl pathes of Honor to afpire. 
 
 By thefe conduEled to Eternall loy, 
 
 I Jwpefor to be lifted vp to tli Skie, 
 
 From all Difgrace, from trouble and annoy, 
 
 Where, (of my f elf e) I nere du\rfl\ mount fo hie. 
 
 Be gracious then (Sweete Goddeffe) of my Tlwught, 
 For thy power tis, doth make mefoare aloft. 
 II Difgratiato. R. T. G. 
 
 ii6 
 
CERTAIN E 
 
 DIVINE POEMS 
 
 WRITTEN BY THE 
 
 forefaid Author R. T. 
 
 Gentleman. 
 
 Imprinted at London by F. K. for 
 Matthew Lownes. 
 
Deo, Optimo, Maximo. 
 
 T T rith Teares in Eyes, with drops of Blood from Hart, 
 
 * • With skalding fighs from inward grieued Soule, 
 A CONVERTITE, from Vaine LoVE now I part, 
 Whilft, for my Sinnes fore Heaven I do condole. 
 I know, and knowledge I haue liued wrong, 
 And wilfull fought mine owne Deftruftion long. 
 
 The Temple of my Heauenly GoD I haue. 
 
 For earthly Goddejfe, ftainde blafphemoufly, 
 
 Selling my felfe to Satan for his Slaue, 
 
 Whilft I tranfgreft in vile Apojlajie. 
 
 Banifht my felfe I haue from Paradize, 
 Through thriftles Toyes of bafe-bome Vanities. 
 
 O thou that on fwift Cherubins doft ride, 
 Creator of all Creatures that do liue, 
 Whofe Loue was fuch as thou for Man haft dide. 
 Though he thee hated, skorned, and did grieue : 
 Vouchfafe to view and rue my defprate ftate, 
 And me once more from fmne regenerate. 
 
 Ah looke vpon me with milde Mercies eye, 
 
 Clenfe me with pureft Water of thy Grace : 
 
 Remember not how I haue gone awry. 
 
 Since I renounce to runne more fuch a Race. 
 Ah glorious Spoufe, thy Beautie I defire, 
 For now to Heauen, not Earth, my Thoughts afpire. 
 H 4 G^r^V/ 
 
 V 
 
 119 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 Grief e, that was once farre off remou'd from me, 
 Begins (as now) for to approach me nere, 
 Clad in his Weedes, which Black snA fearfull he, 
 And crownde vn^ fatall Cyprejfe doth appeare : 
 
 With wringing Hands he doth bewaile my ruth, 
 And mournes, that I haue ftraide fo wide fro Truth. 
 
 Reafon the Cochman to my wandring Thought, 
 As in a Chriftall glaffe, doth (hew moft plaine 
 My gazing eyes, how I have fondly wrought, 
 Spending my Time in Toyes, and Fancies vaine : 
 He fhew'th me now another Nouell LoVE, 
 Another path, wherein my feete to moue. 
 
 As One, who in his Trauaile doth efpie, 
 (By chance) a hideous Serpent or foule Snake, 
 That long before vnfeene did clofely lie 
 Behinde fome (tub, where he his Neft did make, 
 (Shaking his three-forkt hifsing tongue apace) 
 Quickly himfelfe retireth from that place : 
 
 So I by louing wrong (vnhappie Wight) 
 
 Hauing amiffe ftraide long time, and awrie, 
 
 When I (at laft) of Death had but a fight, 
 
 (Although farre off) yet backward, gan I hie : 
 Backward I came, with haftie fpeedie foote. 
 Leaning that Courfe, which I at firft had tooke. 
 
 Thou 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 Thou wandring Spirit, to whom loue doth commit 
 (Of this my Body fraile) the gouernment : 
 Why, gadding thus from Truth fo farre doft flit ? 
 Why, are thine eyes with wilfull blindnes pent ? 
 
 Why, dofl not marke what Danger is at hand ? 
 
 What damned Death doth at thine elbow ftand ? 
 
 Ah, be not flattred with this poyfenous Love, 
 
 But call thy former Wits to thee againe : 
 
 Thofe wicked Thoughts roote out, and hence remoue, 
 
 Whilfl: Life in thee to do it doth remaine, 
 
 What Mortall is, by mortall Death fupprefle, 
 Thy Gaine fhall be the more, thy Lojfe the leffe. 
 
 Heauen once thy Manjion was, and dwelling place, 
 
 Now Hell thou feekfl by running thus aftray, 
 
 Vnhappie Soule to be in fuch a cafe, 
 
 So wilfully to feeke thine owne Decay : 
 
 Thou woundfl: thy felfe, to God a Rebbell th'art. 
 And only ftriu'ft to pleafe the World in Hart. 
 
 Alas, in whom now doft thou put thy truft ? 
 On whom doft thou relie, or hope on now ? 
 Ah turne, and (flill) Hue fhalt thou with the lujl, 
 Ah turne againe, and trebble bleffed thou : 
 
 Thou, then fhalt be, whereas the Blejfed are, {Starre. 
 
 Poore Soule, mongfl: Soules, mongfl: Stars, a brightfome 
 
 Whats 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 What's God ? The Sourfe of Goodnes and the Spring. 
 
 What is that Goodnes ? Such a Goodnes found 
 
 As aye increafeth without perifliing. 
 
 How is it made ? In frame and fafliion Round, 
 Like to a Forme that in it doth containe, 
 His End and his Beginning in the fame. 
 
 This Goodnes, (firfl) from whence did it proceede ? 
 Three proper Veines there be, that forth do runne. 
 Out of one /acred Sea, from Heauen decreede, 
 Which compaffe doth. All, what fo ere fees Sunne. 
 Cannot we fee it ? This Essence mofl: Diuine, 
 No Mortall Man hath feene at any time. 
 
 How can it then be, if it neere be feene. 
 
 That it our mindes (oft lifteth vp on High) 
 
 As if in Vijion we in Heauen had beene .' 
 
 It makes vs view fuch Wonders with Faiths eye. 
 
 With FaitJis cleere eye which fhines to us fo bright. 
 As vnto Heauen it is our Guide and Light. 
 
 What is that Faith } A Gift, which if £>efe^ 
 In him, that firme beleeueth, be not found, 
 It blindfold leades him (yet with fteps direft) 
 Vnto that place, where perfefl loyes abound. 
 
 Where God, the Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghojl, 
 Doe raigne in Glorie great, of Mightiejl moft. 
 
 Thou 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 Thou Life which Life art calde, and yet art Death, 
 Thou Death, which Death art termde, and yet art Life, 
 Say ; which of you maintaine my vitall breath, 
 Within this wretched Vale of Worldly flrife ? 
 
 Say, which prolongs my Life, moft of you Twaine? 
 
 Or thou Life, or thou Death : fay both the fame. 
 
 I (more then Life) ftraight DEATH doth anfwer make. 
 
 Nay, I (quoth LIFE) farre more then DEATH, to me, 
 
 And for this Caufe this only l^Tame I take 
 
 Of Life, which by my meanes alone can be. 
 Becaufe whilft I within thy Body Hue, 
 Death no way can thee hinder, hurt, or grieue. 
 
 But r, by cutting off (DEATH ftraight replies) 
 This flender Thred, whereby Men runne their race, 
 Bring euery Faithfull foule, in friendly wife, 
 Where he a better path (for aye) may trace, 
 Making him leade a Life eternallie, 
 A Life, that (ftill) doth Hue, and neuer die. 
 
 Wherefore, what ere he be, that meanes to ioy 
 
 This other Life that is Celefiiall, 
 
 He muft not fcorne (to fcape from worlds annoy) 
 
 Nor thinke it much, to come when DEATH fhall call. 
 For Death, not Life, doth help vs at the end, 
 Life is our Foe, but Death, our deareft Friend. 
 
 All 
 
 "3 
 
Written of Good-friday. 
 
 All haile, mojl happie Day in bleffed wife, 
 
 A Day of Griefe, yet Honorable Day, 
 
 In which the Father did (for Sacrifife) 
 
 Offer his Sonne, to faue Man from decay : 
 
 Clenfing our Soules, defilde with fmfull mud, 
 With Innocefit, with pure and pretious Blood. 
 
 Vponthat Crojjfe {nov; /acred) then Prophane 
 He dide for vs, who could not dye indeede : 
 Whilft clofmg his fayre eyes for Mortals gaine. 
 He opened all the Gates of Heauen with fpeede : 
 Reftoring them that Kingdome we had lofl. 
 Which nothing, vs, but Him, too dearly coft. 
 
 Not his, but our Due, was it, for to Die ; 
 
 Thofe Torments which he meekly did endure, 
 
 His Crowne of Thornes, his Wounds done fpitefully ; 
 
 That Curfed Scourge that fpilt his Blood fo pure ; 
 All thefe, to Vs, and not to him, did long, 
 Yet for our fakes, our Chrijl himfelfe did wrong. 
 
 Then if for pitie, Graues do open wide, 
 
 Hils cleaue, and Marble pillars rent in twaine : 
 
 If Heauens themfelues, their Lights for griefe do hide. 
 
 And if the Sunne for forow clipft remaine : 
 
 What Mortall hart is there that doth not breake, 
 When he but thinkes, or of this Day doth fpeake. 
 
 That 
 
 124 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 That Vertue, through whofe power rulde is my foule ; 
 
 (Only through Vertuous Lone, from Loue fet free) 
 
 Takes force afrefh as one that would controule : 
 
 And finding ftronge within himfelfe to bee, 
 Vnhridled Will he feekes to bridle now, 
 And tries to breake what fore he fcarce could bow. 
 
 New Lords, new lawes ; New Ctijlomes breake the Olde, 
 
 And where before a dark and miftie clowde. 
 
 My minde as in a prifon did infolde. 
 
 Now is it loofde from out that gloomie fhrowde : 
 My Hart doth iump euen iuft with his defire, 
 And by their Eye know both what to require. 
 
 My watchfull Soule recouered hath well nie, 
 
 The former ftate in which he lined in : 
 
 And being free, doth call to memorie. 
 
 What (bound) he did forget through wretched fin, 
 
 While for his life repentant he attends, 
 
 Immortally to liue for his amends. 
 
 Not any part there is of Bodie mine. 
 
 But filled is with true, not falfe Delight : 
 
 Yet doth it grieue ftill at her former Crime, 
 
 And with Remorfe doth mortifie the Spright, 
 
 Whilft wronged Soule, on Others layes the blame, 
 Yet reprehends her felfe euen for the fame. 
 
 This 
 
 125 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 This earthly Beautie doth the Sence delight, 
 But Heauenly Beautie doth the minde more pleafe : 
 The one the World hath as an Objeft right, 
 And feekes the World to pleafure with fweet eafe : 
 But th'other hath lehouah for hir glaffe, 
 Nor fhe for any but for him doth paffe. 
 
 The Sence doth burne with Loues vnperfeft works. 
 Which like a blaze in th'aire doth flit av/ay : 
 The Soule thirds after that which neuer hurts, 
 And hunts for that which neuer will decay : 
 That, which not fubieft is to any time, 
 But of itfelfe moft Perfe6t and Diuine. 
 
 Thou (Lord) the Mortall and Immortall both 
 
 Created hafl; marke humbly I require, 
 
 How much within my bodie they be wroth ; 
 
 Marke how within me, gainft me they confpire ; 
 Within them felues they vary fo and grudge. 
 That which of both fhall win tis hard to iudge. 
 
 My bad Conceits from Adam fprung of yore, 
 Doo headlong runne to endles death with fliame : 
 And leffe that Reafon do them bridle fore, 
 Hardly my Soule can paffe from whence it came. 
 Then pardon Lord the Courfe that I haue runne, 
 And I from Sinne a new Man will become. 
 
 126 
 
Diuine Poems, 
 
 A Tirant great, faire Beautie is in Loue, 
 When it doth triumph in a louely face : 
 And who with cold Difdaine, this doth not moue, 
 Is caught by fubtill fweet alluring Grace : 
 
 Who ftands at Beauties Gaze, and doth not flie, 
 
 Is foone entrapt by wilfull glancing eye. 
 
 This which of true Loue is but PiSlure bare, 
 
 With fliadowing Vale doth dimme our cleereft fight : 
 
 And if to follow it we do not fpare, 
 
 It foone deceiues vs with a falfe delight. 
 
 And to perpetual prifon fends our foule, 
 Vnles her*fleights by Reafon we controule. 
 
 Faire Pearle, fine gold, bafe excrements of th'earth ; 
 
 Whats Beautie, but a little White and Red ? 
 
 Reuiued with a little liuely Breath, 
 
 With Winde, or Sunne, or Sicknes altered ? 
 
 All this doth Time confume and bring to nought. 
 And all what ere into this world is brought. 
 
 The faireft Colours drie and vanifli fliall ; 
 T)\Qyong/l muft pack as well as doth the Olde: 
 All mortall things to mortall death muft fall, 
 And therefore firft were caft in earthly molde. 
 
 That which doth florifh greene as graffe to-day, 
 To morrow withereth like to dried Hay. 
 
 Swift 
 
 137 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 Swift flies our yeares as doth a running ftreame, 
 And lothed Age come^ealing on apace : 
 Our youth doth paffe away as twere a Dreame, 
 And Death doth follow for to take his place : 
 
 Death comes, and our Lifes patent to his hand 
 For to refigne, he ftraight doth vs command. 
 
 Strength to his courfe, and winde vnto his flight, 
 With feathers to his wings. Time ioyneth fafl: : 
 And this fweet life which we fo much do like. 
 Though nere fo loth, yet muft away at laft. 
 
 The fairefl: Flower muft wither with the weede. 
 What fo doth Hue, to die was firft decrfiede. 
 
 t 
 Thrife happie man and trebble bleft is he. 
 That neuer treads his fteps from righteft way, 
 Nor with the mift of World will blinded be : 
 But keepes right path, and neuer goes aftray : 
 
 Contemning all thefe mundaine Treafures bafe, 
 In hope to ioy the heauenly Wealth of Grace. 
 
 Who dyeth ill, dyes ; who dieth well, neuer dies. 
 But Hues a life aboue Eternallie : 
 Like good Elias, who in wondrous wife. 
 Was from bafe Earth tooke vp to Hue in skie : 
 Where bide Th' eleSl of Chrift for euer bleft. 
 In Abrahams bofome there for aye to reft. 
 
 For 
 
Dhtine Poe^ns. 
 
 For thee my Hart doth burne like fire (Deare Lord) 
 
 Which freefde before like Froft 2Si^chillle Ice, 
 
 For thee to leaue my Jinne I doe accord ; 
 
 Through which thy heauenly grace I did defpife. 
 All Follies now, as Shadowes vaine He leaue, 
 And vnto thee (the Subjlance trew) I cleaue. 
 
 In thee I burne, and in my felfe I freefe, 
 
 Frozen through feare, but burning through thy Loue, 
 
 Reafon ore Senfes mine, now ouer fees : 
 
 And her Authoritie ore them doth proue. 
 
 Which makes me humbly call to thee for grace, 
 Though (proud) before I runne a felfe wild race. 
 
 Repentance right, fad Griefe, fait Teares, fure Faith, 
 
 Renue in me a forie Contrite Hart : 
 
 My guiltie Confcience oft within me faith, 
 
 I Death deferue, yet Merciful thou art : 
 
 Sighs from my foule I offer for my Fee, 
 As pretious Blood thou offredft once to mee. 
 
 My Hart now clenfde (and yet not mine as now) 
 Sweet Chriji to thee his firft Home turnes againe, 
 From me he flies, and vnto thee doth bow : 
 I giue it thee, Accept I pray the fame. 
 
 Ah Soueraigne Sauiour, do not now defpife 
 
 A broken Hart, ior pleajing Sacrifi/e. 
 
 I Weake 
 
 129 
 
Dhdne Poems. 
 
 Weake is my Barke in which my Life 6.0'Ca. rowe, 
 My wretched life, through grieuous faults mifpent, 
 And in the World (his Ocean) fayles but flow, 
 Becaufe it falles into the Occident : 
 
 My fickly Minde runnes felf fame doubtfull way, 
 And Soule doth grieue that Fancie fo doth ftray. 
 
 And though a gentle calmie Winde to blowe, 
 
 She findes about her, as (he frefh doth fayle, 
 
 Yet vnder Waters doe I fpie belowe, 
 
 The Foe of my poore Soule her to affayle : 
 And in that part wherein he doth efpie 
 The Ship to leake, in that he clofe doth He. 
 
 Ah, now it grieues me, now I doe repent 
 
 My retchlejfe Race, that I fo lewd haue runne, 
 
 Yet hath my God in mercie to me fent 
 
 Helpe to my Veffell weake, elfe I vndone : 
 
 Hope at the left hand ftandes, that part to guide, 
 And conftant Faith on right hand doth abide. 
 
 Earth was my flefh before, and earth againe 
 Ere long it fhall be, but my Soule on hie. 
 Shall be lift vp in brighteft Heauens to raigne. 
 If I from falfe alluring Sinne can flie : 
 
 When at his feete, who firft life to me gaue, 
 
 A glorious Seat for euer I (hall haue. 
 
 Full 
 
 130 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 Full 7. times foure of yeeres my life hath ninne, 
 
 Whil'ft to my felfe a heauy Burthen fore, 
 
 To others I a gaineleffe charge become, 
 
 Soyled with beaftly Thoughts vncleanly gore : 
 
 Whil'ft in true Light being blind I farther goe 
 From Reafons path which ludgement did me (how. 
 
 Slow to good works, but too too fwift to ill, 
 My Soule abroad with flitting wings doth flie, 
 And in the worlds darke bottom oi felfe will, 
 Mongft 1000. Snares fhe carelefly doth lie. 
 
 Where fenfuall Senfe and Ignorance aftray 
 
 Her doubtfull leades, quight out of her right way. 
 
 Too obftinate fhe headlong foi-ward runnes, 
 In greateft Light fhe tumbleth in moft darke, 
 Nor takes fhe thought what of her felfe becomes, 
 Be it right or wrong her courfe fhe doth not marke : 
 So that although Immortall fhe fhould Hue, 
 Moft mortall Death fhe feekes her felfe to giue. 
 
 But now thanks to the Soueraigne King of all. 
 She (no more blinde) the dangers gins to fpie, 
 And looking backe vnto her former fall, 
 She doth repent through faith moft heartily : 
 
 Where fhe doth fee of Heauen the narrow Gate, 
 Which (once) was fhut, now ope for her efcape. 
 
 I 2 King 
 
 131 
 
Diuine Poems. 
 
 King oi iS\. Kinges which from ^y f acred Throne 
 Doeft marke and view from forth the Heauens hie. 
 Thy Graces vnto Adams Offpring fhowne. 
 Of thy great Loue (although vnworthilie) 
 
 Thou that do'ft fill with true Delight the minde, 
 With true Delight, wherein true loy we finde. 
 
 Behold how I, ore'laid with grieuous finne, 
 With Soule defil'd, with Heart infefced fore 
 Doe flie to thee, thy Mercie for to winne, 
 And with Repentance doe my faultes deplore : 
 Lord if thy Lawes and thee I haue offended, 
 * Let mine old Follies, with new Teares be cleanfed. 
 
 My Sorrowes, to my Simies are fparkes but fmall, 
 
 So loathfome they appeare vnto my fight ; 
 
 On thee, 1 at \ihy Gate of Pittie call, 
 
 Thou art the Flame that canfl them purge moft bright. 
 The Bellowes is Amendements pure defire. 
 Which doth inflame through thy hotte louing Fire. 
 
 Let thy great Bountie me forget, forgiue, 
 And bad Conceites that idle Fancies wrought, 
 Let them no more within me (working) Hue, 
 But to Confujion and Contempt be brought : 
 Oh let not Sinne my Soule ftill Satanife, 
 But with thy Spirit the fame isnparadife. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 132 
 
A moft excellent patheti- 
 
 call, and paj/ionate Letter of Duke 
 
 D'Epernoun, Minion, vnto Henry 
 
 the third, King of France and Polonia, when 
 
 through the Duke of Guizes deuife and 
 
 meanes he was forbidden the 
 
 prefence of the King. 
 
 Y gracious Soueraigne, 
 a great combate had I 
 in my minde, and no 
 little or fmall adoe, to 
 refolue my felfe what 
 way to take, hauing 
 receiued expreffe com- 
 mandement not to approach the royall pre- 
 fence of your facred Maieftie any more ; a 
 I 3 matter 
 
 133 
 
A Pafsionate 
 
 matter of no fmall confequence (as that was 
 vnto me) and fuch as was hard for me to be- 
 leeue, and therefore not vnlikelie to be but of 
 long refolution. Willing I was (my good 
 Lord) to obey your letter, and fo did I ; but 
 yet, (for to make manifeft the caufe of fo 
 fuddaine an alteration) I did greatly defire to 
 remoue from my heart, whatfoeuer might 
 haue difpleafed your Grace in any of my ac- 
 tions whatfoeuer : yet could I finde none, be- 
 ing thoroughly determined, and wonderouf- 
 lie defirous to anfwer the fame with my life, 
 and bid you farewell with a liuely and open 
 voyce, before the face of all the world. 
 
 I moft humbly befeech your Maieftie to 
 pardon this my Difobedience, feeing I haue 
 not committed this fault (onely) for feare of 
 difobeying you, but rather, becaufe I am 
 pricked forward by the great affeftion I owe 
 vnto your feruice, more then all the men in 
 the world. I fee (Sir) I am the onely marke 
 whereat the Enuie and Slaunder of France 
 doe drawe their moft iierce Dartes of their 
 
 Rigor 
 
 134 
 
of Duke n Epernoun. 
 
 Rigor and Force ; I muft needes vndertake to 
 refift, no leffe thofe, who are Enuyers of my 
 good Fortune, then heretofore I haue done 
 the Admirers thereof; not doubting, but 
 that God will giue me the Grace, not onely to 
 repulfe the, but alfo to beat the downe with 
 the only Sun-ftiining Beame of your royall 
 Fauour, which (alone) fhal fuffice without any 
 more need of other Armour ; being as ftrong 
 vnto me, as the foundation of a Rocke which 
 no Accidents whatfoever fhall euer be able 
 to undermine. For I do not place in the ranck 
 of tranfitory thinges, the Friendfhip where- 
 with your Maieftie with fo great affeftion fo 
 long time hath honoured me : It hath conti- 
 nued without ceafmg with fo great Good- 
 will, and fuftayned fo many ftiarpe affaultes, 
 that I feare nothing at all that it fliould perifh 
 in one fmall moment and on the fodaine. 
 Hap-hazard did not build it, Fortune there- 
 fore (hall not ouerthrow it, and the workes of 
 your Maiefties bountie, fhall neuer (I hope) 
 1 4 yeelde 
 
 13s 
 
A Pafsionate Letter 
 
 yeeld vnto the malice of the Enemies of my 
 Good, 
 
 Neither will I haue any other proofe of the 
 Eternitie of your rare Fauours towards mee, 
 then the anfwer you made vnto one of the 
 Neereft about your Maieftie, who affirming 
 you would make me too GREAT; you an- 
 fwered ; And fo Great will I make him, that 
 it flial not be in my power hereafter to vndoe 
 him, although willingly I would. Thefe are 
 the wordes (worthie Prince) wherewith you 
 haue pricked forwardes the violence of my 
 malicious ill willers ; Wordes in trueth, moft 
 worthie the greateft, nobleft and moft boun- 
 tifull Monarch of the worlde. In fo much 
 as I haue engrauen in my foule an immortal! 
 defire to make my felfe worthie the efifeftes 
 thereof. 
 
 But I muft not now beholde, nor at this 
 time looke into, what parte your Good-will 
 hath ftiewed it felfe moft firme and moft af- 
 feftionate, to make famous my good For- 
 tune 
 
 136 
 
of Duke UEpernoun. 
 
 tune. The principall beginning thereof was 
 refolued vpon with iudgement, the fequell 
 with reafon, and the end fliall not be variable 
 with ill deftinie. The proceedinges thereof 
 were voluntary; your Maieftie wil not fuffer 
 (I truft) that the chaunce thereof (hould be 
 forced, you haue raifed me out of the duft, vn- 
 to the greateft honours of your high Eftate, 
 and of an vnworthie younger brother that I 
 was, you haue created me a great Duke. I am 
 of your owne fafhioning ; I hope you will not 
 fuffer your worke to be vnperfeft: and for to 
 lift me vp vnto the heauens of your greatnes, 
 you will not giue me winges of fo foft a wax 
 that I fhall melt in the violent lightninges of 
 the rage of mine enemies, to make me mife- 
 rablie to fmcke into the bottomleffe flouds 
 of their bloody defires. But rather contrar- 
 wife, that it would pleafe you to prote6t me, 
 and to take a certaine kinde of pleafure and 
 pride, for to fee, and beholde that the power you 
 haue giuen mee may bee fufficient to ouer- 
 throw thefe Infidels and bafe Creatures, their 
 
 afpiring 
 
 137 
 
A Pafsionate Letter 
 
 afpiring eftate being full of difcommodities, 
 and their diuelifti determinations guiltie of 
 horrible treafons. 
 
 But if your Maieftie defire to fee the reft 
 and quietneffe of your poore People, imagi- 
 ning that I am the caufe of their pouertie and 
 neede, and not the quarrels and conflifts that 
 thefe lewde fellowes haue attempted ; if my 
 profperitie caufeth the trouble of your plea- 
 fures, and if you thinke, that ceafing the pre- 
 texte of your vnfained Good-will towardes 
 mee, by the fame meanes they would ceafe 
 their euill behauiours alfo ; let vs then (Sir) 
 ouerthrow this good Fortune, let vs remoue 
 that which femes for a colour to the enterpri- 
 fes that thefe turbulent Companions goe a- 
 bout, to put them felues into poffeffion of 
 your Eftate ; let vs ouerthrowe the meanes, 
 which they call the Motiues and occafions of 
 their Factions; yet in the ende it fhall plainly 
 be feene, that afpiring Ambition & cankred 
 Enuie of thefe malcontented mindes, is 
 the onely cynders which couers the fire, 
 
 where 
 
 138 
 
of Duke n Epernoun. 
 
 where with they would imbrace your Realm, 
 and the breake-necke ouerthrow, into which 
 they couet to thruft your people, to accom- 
 pany the vnto their endles miferies. But So- 
 ueraigne Liege, I doe not hold the liberalitie 
 your royall Perfon hath beftowed on mee, fo 
 deare, as I doe the leaf!: of your defires, my o- 
 bedience fliall franckly yeeld to you, all that, 
 which your princely Liberalitie hath bounti- 
 fully giuen vnto me : whether it be to take a- 
 way the colour of the warres enfuing, or to 
 make it good (in good earneft) vpon them 
 which beare a fhewe to defire it : The loffe of 
 my Goodes, fhall be the leaft of my Croffes : 
 I haue alwayes confidered, that Fortune gi- 
 ueth nothing, but what fhe can alwayes take 
 againe, and that all worldly riches are of the 
 variable condition of the world, and of the 
 vncertaintie of mankinde. Your Maieftie 
 which gaue mee all whatfoeuer I haue, can- 
 not take any thing, but what was your owne 
 (before) from me; and willingly if you pleafe 
 will I yeeld vp all I haue without enforcing 
 
 mine 
 
 139 
 
A Pafsionate Letter 
 
 mine owne will at all : I will more eafily dif- 
 charge my felfe of my Goods, then they 
 may bee taken from mee. I will refigne not 
 only the Eftates, the Honors, the Offices, and 
 Poffeffions, whether they be of mine owne 
 Perfon, or belonging vnto my deare Wife, 
 but alfo my life into your princely Handes, I 
 fay, that happie and contented life, which I 
 owe vnto your liberall integritie ; doe mee I 
 moft humbly befeech you, fo great a good as 
 to receiue it: Leaue me onely I defire fo little 
 as loooo franckes of yeerely rent, (mine 
 owne poore patrimonie) it fliall be enough, 
 that I may maintaine my felfe in your royall 
 Court with the fmall trayne I had before you 
 knewe mee. I (hall haue fufficient, being in 
 your prefence, and your onely fight fhall bee 
 more vnto mee, then all the treafures of the 
 earth. I will leaue without any griefe at all, 
 vnto your Maieftie the Liuings you haue be- 
 ftowed on me, without making any other re- 
 queft in this refpeft, but onely to befeech you 
 moft humbly not to fuffer that mine enemies, 
 
 namely 
 
 140 
 
of Duke D' Epernoun. 
 
 namely thofe who haue plaied mee no fmall 
 bad prankes about you, fliould be put in pof- 
 feffion and inuefted with my fpoyles : neither 
 to fuffer them to finde their happiness through 
 the loffe of mine owne good Fortune, nor 
 that they may haue caufe to ereft them glori- 
 ous Trophees of mine vndeferued ouerthrow : 
 for that (only) and only that alone, would be 
 the greateft aduerfitie, that loffe of wealth 
 or goods might bring vnto me. 
 
 See then my (gracious Lord) the account 
 I make of riches. But of your gracious Fa- 
 uours I haue in fuch ample wife promifed 
 my felfe the eternitie thereof, and haue taken 
 fuch a Habit in the poffeflion of the fame, 
 that this Cuftome is turned into a naturall Or- 
 der. I cannot draw breath, but with the, & my 
 Ufe hath no mouing but their influence: that 
 day wherein they fhall bee taken from mee, 
 fhall be the laft of my life, and the feparation 
 of them, cannot bee without the parting of 
 my foule out of this body : which notwith- 
 flanding I will holde for very fortunate, to 
 
 haue 
 
A Pafsionate Letter 
 
 haue fo honorable a fubiefl, and will not a 
 little glorie to haue fo long and well liued ; 
 that I haue been thought worthie the friend- 
 fhip of fo great and mightie a Monarch, who 
 hath fo much efteemed thereof, as not to 
 haue been able to Hue without it. 
 
 One of the moft apparent fignes that your 
 Royall felfe gaue me of ' your rare Affeftion 
 toward me is, in that you haue alwaies de- 
 fired to haue had me neere about you. Then 
 I moft humbly befeech your Maieftie, let me 
 not (now) be baniflit far from you ; Banifh 
 rather my Fortune then my Perfon, they ra- 
 ther gape at it, than at my felfe ; It is not at 
 the youngeft Sonne of Valetta, that 
 thefe fpiteful oppreffors doe feeke to take 
 holde of, but it is on the Duke UEpernoun, 
 and to his princely greatnes : they are rather 
 enemies of the Effefts, than of the Caufe, and 
 defire rather the poffeflions than the abfence 
 of the Poffeffor. Suffer not then (deare Soue- 
 raigne) this his forced withdrawing, whom 
 you haue fo greatly loued, and change not 
 
 your 
 
 142 
 
of Duke U Epernoun. 
 
 your royall countenance from him at this 
 time, with ill fortune. 
 
 Notwithftanding (moft gracious Prince) 
 if of my being far off, dependes the reft and 
 quietnes of your poore people, and the exe- 
 cution of your Maiefties worthie will and 
 pleafure, I will not gainefay it at all : rather 
 would I bee as low vnder the earth, as you 
 haue raifed mee on high in dignitie. Your 
 commaundements herein, as in all other 
 things, fhall bee my Counfellors : your will 
 (hall be a law vnto me, and your defires my 
 affeftions. It is more reafon that I fhould pe- 
 rifh, then your Wil & Heafts be vnaccompl- 
 ftied, feeing I was not raifed up, but by thofe 
 meanes. 
 
 I praife God, for that he hath left me one 
 comfort in this my luckles defafter : that is, to 
 know my ill hap, and not my fault, my hard 
 fortune, and not my King, my Enuious and 
 not my iuft Enemies doe feeke this my fall. 
 My iuft behauiour hath not any way caufed 
 it, and therefore it will not leaue mee any 
 
 place 
 
 143 
 
A Pafsionate Letter 
 
 place of repentance, for my foule is free from 
 all fcruple and doubt, and my vpright intenti- 
 ons of all offences towards your Maieftie. 
 Befides this, I haue placed the friendfhip 
 wherewith it hath pleafed you to honour me, 
 in a perfe6l heart, not tainted at all. I call 
 thereof to witnes, the Diuinitie of your excel- 
 lent Spirit, which neuer deceiueth it felfe 
 in the knowledge of his owne. Amongft 
 which in defpight of the rage of his enemies 
 (who are almoft in defpaire) I will ap- 
 peare in loyall fmcereneffe of zeale, and 
 in dutifull obedience, as the Sunne amidft the 
 Starres, and I will make it to be feene, that the 
 jeloufie of my peftilent Slaunderers, is a 
 meere iniurie of time, and my life a fplendant 
 light of your Kingdome. Neyther call I to 
 minde thefe matters, for that I feare you fu- 
 fpe6l mee of horrible ingratitude or beaftly 
 forgetfulnes. The rare manner wherewith 
 you haue bound mee vnto you, was fuch as 
 could not come from a rude Scytkian, but 
 from a moft magnanimous King, who hath 
 
 refliored 
 
 144 
 
of Duke U Epernoim. 
 
 reftored a wofuU heart cruelly wounded, to 
 happie life, being therefore obliged vnto his 
 princely Throne for ever. So that my Ani- 
 ons hereafter, and not my wordes at this pre- 
 fent time, fhall anfwere for my continuall loy- 
 altie. I will euermore haue in memorie the li- 
 beralitie of my Prince, as a paffing pleafmg 
 witneffe of the honorable afifeftion hee hath 
 borne me, and will repute that day accurfed, 
 wherein I fhall not thinke of the happineffe 
 he hath done vnto me ; being not able as now 
 to doe him any other duetie. 
 
 Then (my fweete Soueraigne) honour me 
 I befeech you alwayes with your Commaun- 
 dements ; it fhall be a kinde of comfort vnto 
 mee, to bee euer employed in your Princely 
 Seruice. Adiew, my good Lord, adiew : the 
 greateft good I poffeffe in this life, is, the hap- 
 pie thought of your gracious Fauour. I be- 
 feech you, ftill to preferue me therein, and to 
 beleeue that neuer (oule feperated it felfe 
 from a goodly bodie, with greater grief then 
 EPernoutt now hath, in being diuided from 
 your Maiefty: and not a little do I complaine, 
 for that Fortune hath no other meanes to beat 
 K mee 
 
 I4S 
 
A Pafsionate Letter 
 
 mee downe, then in depriuing mee of your 
 noble prefence, in fuch fort as it hath done. 
 
 But fince it hath pleafed God and your 
 Maiestie, I fhoulde withdrawe my felfe from 
 you, I befeech his goodneffe, that there may 
 remaine with you as great ioy, as in parting 
 from you, I carry away both heauineffe and 
 anger ; that it may pleafe his holy fpirit to con- 
 du6l and fauour you in fuch fort in your en- 
 terprifes, that your Good may be as faithfully 
 fuftained, as I would defire to fee manifefted 
 the Fauorers of the troubles of your Realme, 
 and the iuft punifliment due vnto them, for 
 their rafh Wilfulneffe, and ouer prefumptu- 
 ous Boldneffe, to the glorie of God, the en- 
 creafe of your Maiefties Royaltie, the health 
 of your People, & the contentment of your 
 magnanimous and Princely Defires. 
 
 Your no lejfe duetifull, then forrowfull Subiedl, 
 for that he mujl loofe the fweete fight 
 of your Princely Maieflie. 
 
 lean Louis de Nogaret 
 Duke D'Efernoun. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 146 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 F«w of title-page — This stanza appears also in Tofte's Orlando Inamorata 
 
 (1598). 
 Page 3, 'Miflrejjfe Anne Hernt'—iet our Introduction on this lady ; st. I, I. 4,. 
 'o-(j/?rf'= weakened, or query, the Poet's 'fine madness'; st! 
 2, 'Bankroutes'=h3.n\ii[VL^\.s. Nares, s.v. (verb), quotes Byron's 
 Conspiracy (by Chapman not by Thorpe as he says, who was 
 merely the publisher). 
 
 " He that wins empire with the loss of faithe 
 Outbies it, and will bankrout" (act iv). 
 St. 3, 1. 2, 'nouell'=nevi. So p. 120, st. 2, 1. 5. So Shake- 
 speare (soimets 123, 3), 'nothing KOT/^/'; 1. 3, 'remor/e'=-g\'cy 
 — of. 1. 6. 
 
 „ 4. '• 4> 'yiint'= stop or cause to cease. Cf. Romeo and Juliet, acti, sc. 3, 
 'it stnited and said Ay.' See 11. 45, 49, 58, 59 — read 'nere- 
 dying'; 1. 6, 'Chrijtall Braoie'—lhe maiden name of Mrs. 
 Heme was ' Brooke.' See dedication, p. 5, to her father. 
 
 » S> '■Si''' Caiifthines Brooke' — see our Introduction on this odd Christian- 
 named 'knight'; st. I, 1. 4, 'Suri^uedrie '=piide, ostentation; 
 1. S, 'CoronelV — "The original Spanish word ia\ colonel. This 
 fully accounts for the modern pronunciation of the latter word, 
 ciirnel." 
 
 "Afterwards their coronell, named Don Sebastian, came 
 forth to intreat that they might part vrith their armes like 
 souldiers'' (Spenser's State of Ireland). "He brought the 
 name of coronel to town, as some did formerly to the suburbs, 
 that of lieutenant or captain " (Flecknoe's Enigm. Characters). 
 That is, as a good travelling name, for disguise. Our early 
 dictionaries also give coronel for colonel. (Nares, s.v.) So 
 'coronich' for 'cornice.' The double spelling (then used) 
 is thus accounted for, ' Coronel ' Sp., ' Colonello ' ' Ital. ; st. 2, 
 1. 4, 'Pitie and Remorfe' — really equivalent words, and the 
 second simply r.gr. ; 1. 5, 'Kerns '= Irish foot-soldiers, poor 
 and savage. Cf. Richard II., act ii, sc. I, and Macbeth, act i, 
 sc. 3; St. 3, 1. 3, ' «oi/5^ ' = ennoblest ; 1. 4, ' Palme-rijltig 
 Fame' — meaning straight and lofty as a palm, or against all 
 difficulties as the weighted palm-tree (a favorite contemporary 
 metaphor) rise sup the more it is sought to be kept down ; also 
 a sub-allusion to the 'palm of victory; 1. 6, 'Minion,' Fr. 
 mignon = favorite — later, deteriorated into a bad sense. 
 
 ,, 6, 1. 5, 'loitcly Face' — see Introduction on this as applied to a male in 
 relation to Shakespeare's Sonnets. 
 
1 48 Notes and Iliuslrations. 
 
 Page 7, 'Sir John Brooke' — see our Introdction ; st. 2, 1. 2, "a Tambtrlaiite' 
 
 — Marlowe's great tragedy had put the terrible name into all 
 men's mouths. It is very frequently used contemporaneously ; 
 St. 3, 1. I, ' Mar/t's •=M.&r&'s; ibid., 'Parent Heire'=\iax 
 apparent. 
 
 „ 9, •ifjV,4ar(/i)flj/'— see our Introduction; st. I, 1. 1, ' Robin Reiihrejl'—, 
 see our Introduction on this pet name of Tofte ; st. 2, 1. i, 
 'whijl'== hushed ; st. 4, 1. 2, 'Heber'= Hebrus, the Thracian 
 river into which Orpheus's head was cast ; 1. 4, 'Ijmgft 
 7(ZOT^j'= along Thames; ibid., '£uredi/ay '='EMndice. 
 
 „ II, St. I, 1. 3, '/o pierce'=so piercing, r.g: ; st. 2, 1. 3, • amaine^ = ioxce- 
 fuUy — S.0 frequenter; 1. 4, 'a//a/«'=' appall'; st. 3, 1. I, 
 'Riiddie Breajl'= the bird with ' the red stomacher ' or Robin 
 Redbreast, as before; 1. 2, 'fl^£?'= greatly like, regard, in- 
 cline to ; St. 4, 1. 6, 'not' — clearly a misprint for 'now.' 
 
 „ 12, St. 2, 1. 4, 'blaze'^ blazon ; st. 3, 1. S, '/'= ay ; st. 4, 1. 4, 'harts' 
 
 — misprint probably for 'harte,' unless it was intended as = 
 pectora (Latin), which, of course, could be used of a single 
 person. He may have thought more of the ' Readers ' than of 
 ' each. ' 
 
 „ 13, St. I, 1. I, 'Cignet': also p. II, st. 3, 1. 4 = swan whose (mythical) 
 death-song even Tennyson celebrates still; 1. 3, 'Tamefis'= 
 Thames, as on p. 9, St. 4, 1. 4 ; 1. 5, ' Troynoiiants '= New 
 Troy, i.e., London; St. 2, 1. 2, 'fugrcd' — an everywhere used 
 contemporaneous word, "in season and out of season" and 
 reason; TheAnfwer: 1. 2, 'Mer/le'=yieiiey, He seems to 
 imagine that the Mersey falls into the Trent, which shows no 
 great knowledge of the district. See our Introduction on this ; 
 St. 2, 1. 3, 'Jiealing 7y?«e'— another common-place of con- 
 temporary phrasing. See Introduction. 
 
 ,, 14, St. 2, 1. 1, 'Laurel' — probably a sub-reference to his ' Laura ' (iS97); 
 St. 3, 1. 4, ' Mercie no Mercie' — a play on the name of the river 
 ' Mersey ' which recalls a punning answer of one of the most 
 brillant preachers of Liverpool. A somewhat cantankerous 
 neighbour clergyman had caused his brother-minister a good 
 deal of worry over certain congregational matters. Our dis- 
 tinguished friend removed from the Birkenhead side to Liver- 
 pool. Met by one cognizant of the bickering, he asked, "Well ! 
 how are you and Mr. Bowers (so we'll name him) getting on ? '' 
 Swiftly came the reply, " Oh 3. pleasant change. I've removed 
 to Mount Pleasant you know, and now there's a river between 
 us, and that's the Mercy" (Mersey): who the I. M. was of 
 these verses, to and from Tofte, is unknown to the editor. It 
 could dot have been his spoliator Jervis Markham. 
 
 „ 15, St. I, 1. 2, 'Pemajfiis' — such is thefrequent contemporary spelling. So 
 in the famous Rcturne from Pernajjfus ; st. 4, 1. 4, 'noy'= 
 
Notes and Illustrations. 149 
 
 annoy ; the ' R. A.' is also unknown, unless Robert AUott — 
 certainly not Armin. 
 Page 17, St. I, 1. I, '/b?2>e/i' = porpoise; 1. 6, Vs^jW* '= deprived of life. 
 So Chapman {Odyss, xxii), "Tolemaehus disUved Amphi- 
 medon"; ibid., 'z-W/^a^-fei/'— similarly deprived of heart ; st. 2, 
 !'• 5-5, 'ground'— 7^ play on the two meanings of the word 
 'ground,' the musical sense in which it is opposed to 'descant,' 
 and the common sense; st. 3, 1. 2, •»i5/?^//'=soiTOwfull, as 
 onward; st. 4, 1, 3, • «[a/^] '— here and elsewhere, where the 
 unique exemplar is slightly imperfect, the lacuna are filled in; 
 1. S> '"•' — misprint for 'in.' 
 
 ,, 18, heading, 'Alba Crudelijj'ima'—\ier:& and elsewhere misprinted in the 
 original 'Alia'; st. I, 1. I, read •dean-bought'; st. 4, 1. 3, 
 [And whom] — Mr. Swinburne suggests [Yet me]; 1. 4, 'too 
 too ' — note this contemporaneous and later frequent reduplica- 
 tion. So also p. 21, St. 2, 1. 2, ei alibi; I 5, [Alas] — again 
 Mr. Swinburne suggests, [For all] ... and 1. 6, [Do bu]t . . ., 
 all self-evidently superior readings; last line, ' Troinouant,' 
 i.e., dated from London. 
 
 ,, 20, st. I, 1. 2, '^>-a»fl'j'= fire-brands or torches; st. 2, 1. 4, '/welt'= 
 sweat — so swelter; st. 4, 1. 3, 'mick'=mac\ r.gr.; last line, 
 'Mirth is turnde to Mone' — another commonplace of con- 
 temporary phrasing. See Introduction. 
 
 „ 21, St. 2, 1. 3, 'mickle'=vcm.^. 
 
 „ 22, St. I, 1, 2, read, 'I like mine Alba's angel's heauenly_/fcj/ar«'= per- 
 son ; 1. 3, 'Co/y9'= Corpus; st. 2, 1. 4, 'A Sdainfiill' = 3. 
 disdainfuU. So frequenter. See Introduction. 
 
 ,, 23, St. 2, 1. 3, ' Feature' = person, as before; St. 3, 1. 2, ' Counterfate' = 
 counterfeit. Cf. p. 17, st 3, 1. 3. So Shakespeare, "fair 
 Portia's counterfeit" (Merchant of Venice, act iii, so. 2), "sleep 
 Death's counterfeit" (Macbeth, act ii, sc. 3), and "counterfeit 
 presentment" (Hamlet, iii, 4); last line, 'Pano' — dated thence 
 — see Introduction. 
 
 ,, 24, St. I — this would indicate that 'Alba' was that most dangerous of 
 animals, a young widow — who had given birth to a posthumous 
 child ; for else Tofte never could have ' wooed ' her as he (still) 
 does in his poem. 
 
 „ 25, St. I, 1. 3, 'traine'=sxAi<:e or draw in. Sir Richard Baker, in his 
 epistle-dedicatory of his Apologie for Lay-Mens Writing in 
 Divinity (1641), having designated his little book a 'tract,' 
 thus continues — "I may justly cal it a tract, seeing / have ieene 
 drawn to write it, as it were by violence, least I should yeeld 
 myselfe guilty of prophane presumption, for writing in argu- 
 ments of Divinity, being but a Layman." This is a noticeable 
 illustration of the word in relation to 'track,' 'train,' &c., &c. ; 
 St. 3, 1. 3, 'For thee into this world I willing came'—s.T\ 
 
1 50 Notes and Illustrations. 
 
 awkardly put thing seeing that though present on the occasion 
 there is no ' will ' or choice to the new comer into the mystery 
 of being; 1. 4, ';%«'= before; 1. S, '*/a«'= blazon, as before. 
 Page 26, St. 4, ' Cq/2ellane'= castle-keeper. 
 
 „ 27, St. 3, 1. 2, 'Noy'= annoy. 
 
 „ 28, St. 2, 1. I, 'Thou Northweft Village'' — see out Introduction. 
 
 „ 29, St. 1, 1. I, 'mtjlfull" = sorrowful], as before. Nares gives only a 
 single example from Kendall's Epigrams (IS77). and queries 
 if = ' sorrowful'; st. 3, 1. 6, '^y««^'= flourishing; 1. 5, '/«;««' 
 — qu. misprint for 'seene,' i.e., '[are] scene'? 
 
 „ 30, St. I, 1, 6, 'Sanns '= sans— printed with a capital probably as a word 
 still in rare use. See Nares {s.v. ) for an excellent note ; St. 2, 
 1. 3, 'liuun gree '= good grace, or in kindness — Fr. bon gre ; 1. 6, 
 ' vncoutk '— perplexing or unknown ? The line reads much like 
 an expression of the proverb, ' Uncouth unkiss'd'; st. 3, 1. 3, 
 ' viliil}''= vilely i st. 4, 1. 3, 'ioe too W3Z«< '= blameworthy, 
 r.gr., but also used by Sir J. Harington, s.v., Nares 'too 
 blame.' 
 
 „ 31, St. I, 1. 2, Delia'=\he moon, after Delos ; st. 2, 1. 6, 'Pfyches'' — 
 the final ' s ' is met with contemporaneously and later. 
 
 „ 32, st. I, 11. 5-6 — see Introduction on this couplet ; st. 2, 1. 4, 'Nor , . . 
 None'= not one 'bides to comfort me ; st. 3, 1, 5, 'labour lofl.' 
 See p. 104, St. 1-3, onward; st. 4, 1, 2, 'r/i?^?-a«^'= depreciate, 
 lower. 
 
 >i 33i St. 3, 1. I, ' trammels' = a. fowling or fishing net — hence used com- 
 monly as applied to women's hair. Sometimes 'trammels' 
 seems to mean no more than 'locks of hair,' e.g., Greene 
 " Like Apollo's locks 
 Methought appeared the trammels of her hair " 
 
 (Nevee Too Late). 
 and again : 
 
 " Brightsome Apollo in his richest pomp 
 Was not like to the trammels of her hair" 
 
 (Ciceroitis .Amor). 
 In Nares, s.v., there is an example of 'tramelets' in the same 
 sense ; st. 4, 1. i, '(my thinks)' =: me thinks. 
 
 „ 34, St. I, 1. I, 'panefuW = painstaking; ibid., ' Marchaut venterer' = 
 merchant adventurer, i.e., of the historically famous Company 
 so named; I. 3, 'Jirangy' — he affects such forms. So 'calmie,' 
 &.C., &c.; St. 2, 1. 2, 'Fraughting'=be\^\ing; st. 3, 1. 2, 
 '^flt«£>jf' = knowing, i.e., in sight of. 'Within ken' is still 
 good English. 
 
 „ 3S, St. 1, 1. 2, 'Z'j«!fifei/ffz«««'=struckdown. See Nares, j.w., for various 
 examples. 1. 5, read •raine[s]' or is it = [doth] raine? St. 2, 
 1. 3, 'clipped'— cco^pei, and so weakened and weaiy; 1. 4, 
 'pouer'— poor -^ see Introduction on the Italianisms of Alba ; 
 
Notes and Illustrations. 1 5 1 
 
 St. 3. 1- 3. '«<?««'= the occasion; st. 4, 1. 1, ' calletk for his 
 Booke'= claims benefit of clergy. 
 Page 36, St. 3, 1. 3, >{my tt?«/5cj-)'= me-thinks, as before; I. S, 'vncotitk'^ 
 strange ; st. 4, 1. 3, 'dijliu'd'—ste note on p. 17, st. I, 1. 6. 
 » 37> St. 2, 1. 4, V,^«>'=Victorie and Pomp; last line — dated 'Roma.' 
 
 On p. 37 see Introduction. 
 „ 38, St. 1, I. i, 'C/«!>;-'=juniper; st. 2, 1. j, Mr. Swinburne suggests to 
 read — 
 
 ' Shall (though it now sanns blemish be or Staine)' 
 — certainly better; 1. 6, ' C/y?x '= clefts. 
 I. 39. St. I, 1. 3, 'hugie'; 1. 4, 'gUJiiring.' So Spenser's Prothal.— 
 
 " Hot Titan's beames, which then did glyster fayre " 
 1. 6, 'z-ffi/feft' Cf. p. 40, St. I, 1. 6, Vas/y'— as before, Tofte 
 affects these forms; st. 2, 1. 3, 'Idea—as in Drayton, Daniel, 
 &c.; St. 3, 1. s, read ' Acanthus-lilce '; st. 4, 1. J, read 'Globe- 
 like world'; last line, dated again from 'Fano.' 
 ,, 40, St. 3, 1. I, '^o//i!a;'= willow — still in use both in England and 
 Scotland; st. 3, I. 6, 'feltred'=ra3Xisi. This is earlier than 
 Nares's example from Fairfax's Tasso : 
 
 " His felter'd locks that on his bosom fell 
 On rugged mountains briers' and thorns' resemble.'" 
 So Chapman, 'a.fellredr3.m. ' (Iliad, iii, 219). 
 „ 41, St. I, 1. 4, '/J^»<7j/'= denial. 
 „ 42, St. 4, 1. 5, 'haroldi/e'—l[iex3.\iizs or proclaim. 
 „ 43, St. I, I. 3, '7i7-&rj'= tortures. 
 „ 44, St. 4, 1. 4, 'Though not,' &c. Cf. 'Flectere si nequeo Superos, 
 
 Acheronta movebo' {Virgil, Aeneid 7, 312). 
 ,, 45, St. I, 1. 6, 'JVo)''= annoy, as before; st. 4, I. 6, '/<^'= unless. 
 ,, 46, St. 3 — see Introduction. 
 
 ,, 47, St. 2, 1. I — a proverbial saying as is the previous line 'Honi soit,' 
 &c.; 1. 3, '^aj''= a hunting metaphor — he talks of bringing 
 his foe to 'bay' or 'to an abbaie,' which is when the hunted 
 one ' turns head ' and the dogs ' bay ' at him. Cf. p. 25, 
 St. I, 1. 4 ; 1. 6, 'keke'= lack, but see Introduction. 
 ,, 48, St. 3, 1. s, 'War in that Tovvnk '= Warrington — but see Intro- 
 duction ; St. 4, 1. 4, 'Beaw'= Beau — wrongly spelled, and of 
 wrong gender, but see Introduction. 
 „ 51, st. 2, I. I, 'Jiharifie'— play the Pharisee who went to the Temple and 
 thanked God he was not as other men ; st. 2, 1. 6, 'vnpure'== 
 impure — 'ua' was a frequent prefix contemporaneously. See 
 Notes and Illustrations to Robert Armin in this Series ; st. 3, 
 1. 3, 'Ci'/'^'= coat-of-arms. 
 ,, 52, St. 2, I. 3, 'z'W(!»^/4'= strange, perplexing; st. 3, 1. 4, 'Almes'—z. 
 
 dissyllable. 
 „ 53, St. I, 1. I, 'Venus Day^— Friday (dies Veneris) ; st. 3, 1. 2, 'bid'— 
 abide, or rather abode. 
 
152 Noies and Illustrations. 
 
 Page 54, St. 2, 1. 2, ' bandies' = drives away or tosses as in the game of tennis, 
 and now of Bandy ; but see Introduction, as before, on Tofte's 
 Italianisms. 
 
 1, 6, ' ouer' — query misprint for 'euer'? st. 3, 1. 3, 'Exorde 
 = persuaded to grant my prayer (exoratus). 
 
 „ 55, St. 1,1.4, ' Loves Lolbie' — a peculiar expression. Query = her mouth 
 generally, but her lips in particular. 
 
 „ 57, st, I, 1. 5, 'board' = panel. 
 
 ,, 59, St. I, 1. 2, ' complot' = ■^\o\. together; st. 3, 1. 6, •ki)''= enjoy. 
 
 „ 61, St. I, 1. 6, '/'j/(r(5/ir'=uneasmess. 
 
 „ 63, St. I, 1. 5, 'adulterife' — another form that Tofle affects; st. 2, 1. 6, 
 Vj/Ki/a«/' = disdainful; st. 3, 1. 2, punctuate comma before 
 'sharper' — the construction is [the] sharper that they shew, 
 the shrewder, &c. ; 1. 5 = [to] seeke ; St. 4, 1. 3, ' altering' = 
 differing. 
 
 „ 64, St. 2, 1. 2, 'tei/W= willed. 
 
 ,, 65, St. 2, 1. 2, ' dalliance' = Atiay ; st. 4, 1. 5, ' allufiue'='\\\\isiye, 
 
 ,, 66, St. 2 — see Introduction; st. 3, 1. 2, 'ferenijtng' = ay]oy'mg serenity, 
 i.e., in fancied security. Perhaps Tofte meant ' sirenizing '= 
 beauty was playing the siren ; st. 4, 1. 5, read 'starre-crossed.' 
 
 ,, 67, St. 2, 1. I, ' 0/praies'= osprey or vulture. 
 
 „ 68, St. 2, 1. I, 'Jieeme'=eAtem.; 1. 6, 'yB/«'= beauty. So freqianter in 
 Lodge. 
 
 „ 69, St. 3, 1. I — even with 'peereles' as a trisyllable the line (like others) 
 is defective ; last line, dated ' Mantua. ' 
 
 ,, 70, St. I, 1. I, 'liggen'=\\e, recline; St. 2, 1. 5, 'Care. . lLL' = Carill 
 or Caryll = see Introduction ; st, 3, 1, 5, 'peake' — Johnson de- 
 fines it = to make a mean figure, to sneak, and quotes inter 
 alia, Hamlet (ii, sc. 2): 
 
 " Yet I, a dull and muddy mettled rascal, peak 
 Like John a-dreames," &c. 
 St. 4, 1. 6, 'CarewithV — see st. 2, I. 5 and Introduction. 
 
 „ 72, St. 2, 1. 4, '?«o«fz»^«^'= amazement; st, 3, 1. 3, ' Quoyne' = cd\n; 
 St. 4, I. 2, 'Soft' — sic here and elsewhere = soft — a northern 
 form? 
 
 „ 73, St. 4, 1, 3, 'Cocitus'= Cocytus, 
 
 „ 74, st, 1,1. I, '«>«OTKrV= surrounded ; I. 2, ' C<i?-«aft;«« '= carnation ? 
 — a variant of 'camadine.' 
 
 ,, 75, St. 1,1. I, 'Handkercher'=\s.axiS«.etAC\zi\ st. 4, 1. 6, 'Softly' — as 
 'saft ' in p. 72, St. 4, 1. 2, et alibi. 
 
 „ 76, St. I, 1. I, ' ebbon' = ebony, dark black; 1. 2, 'Lavvgk andfweete looke 
 on' — some game or sport apparently. Query — 'Laugh and 
 lay down,' a game at cards. 
 
 II lit St. 3, 1. 4, 'i«'«/«»^i'/-^'= lamenting, penitent; but see Nares, f.i'., 
 for a full note. 
 
 „ 79, st, 1, 1, 2, 'Mew' = place where 'hawks' are kept ; 1, 6, 'wherefore' 
 
Notes and Illustrations. 153 
 
 = where fore, i.e., where before; st. 2, 1. I, ' Hollow''— VoVlo 
 
 or call. 
 Page 80, St. 2, 1. 4, ' Lawrell ' = ^ott laurel crowned; st. 4, 1. 3, 'Jlraining 
 
 • ■ .y^v?''^''= sight-straining Beauties. 
 81, St. 3,1.6, */ato'= false. 
 8z, St. I, 1. 4, ' Cor/ies'= corrosives : 'ri/e' — in the sense of common is 
 
 still a northern word; st. 4, 1. 2, '^alt'— out misprint for 
 
 'flialt.' 
 
 85, St. 1, 1. 1, ' caur/e' = cozzse ; 1. 4, •/jW = lain; st. 2, 1. I, ' Me^- 
 full'= sorrowful, as before ; 1, 6, • wretchles' = K\.<A^fs&, i.e., 
 
 careless ; St. 4, ' Tortovs '= tortoise — we say the ' crab. ' 
 
 86, St. 2, 1. 5, ' induratize' = haxien ; st. 3, 1. 6, ' remor/e' = ^iiy ; last 
 line, dated ' Burnham ' — on which see Introduction. 
 
 87, St. 4, 1. 5, ' Alcinoi dales' ='iia[y con or peaceful. 
 
 88, St. 3, 1. 3, 'parture' = departure; 1. 4, 'Tent'= tenter or frame 
 used by clothiers and dyers for stretching cloth on, «>., his 
 wits are racked. 
 
 91, St. 1-4 — see Introduction. 
 
 94, St. 4, 1. 5, 'Z5/2'= unless. 
 
 95, st. 2, 1. 4, ' atofiement' = ai-one-mexA, reconciliation; sf. 4, 1. 6, 
 ' fmiskle'= muscle. 
 
 97, St. 2, I. 4, ' leji ' — probable misprint for ' leiTe '= unless, but see p. 94 ; 
 1. 6, ' Trull' = slattern, and worse, but used, r.gr. 
 
 98, St. I, 1. I, ' Saji'= assay ; 1. 2, ' Cor/i '= corpyis, as before. 
 
 99, st. 4, 1. I, ' Molle'= the mole — but see Introduction ; 1. 3, 'wood'= 
 mad. 
 
 101, St. 4, 1. I — a proverbial saying; 1. 3, ' /4//«/?d«.[ ' = delusions or 
 illusions. Cf. on p. 65, st. 4, 1. 5. 
 
 102, St. 1, 1. 5, ' Carnouale' — canAvaX ; st. 4, 1. S, ' Petrark' — see 
 Introduction. 
 
 103, St. 4, 1. 4, '?-ra''=pity. 
 
 104, St. 1-3 — see on these important stanzas our Introduction ; st. 2, 1. i. 
 Vide Pliny ii, 55 — not the olive, but the laurel is usually sup- 
 posed to be exempted from lightning; st. 1, 1. I, ' Tawny and 
 .ff/fli:i'= mourning colours. 
 
 107, St. 3, 1. 3, ' Roomth' = room — why 'th' is added editor knoweth 
 
 not ; but it is not uncommon in authors of the time. 
 Ill, St. 4, ]. 3, 'vade'=U.As; 1. S, ' JVoiamie' = an 3.na.tomy, skeleton. 
 
 116, St. I, 1. 3, 'raine'= rein. 
 
 117, title page, 'Divine Poems ' — probably a number of shorter ' occasional ' 
 pieces are here given as one poem ; at any rate only the one 
 poem is in the volume. He continues religously in this poem 
 (or poems) what he has sung ' vainly ' in Alba. 
 
 119, St. 1, 1. 4, 'condole'— mourn or lament? but a somewhat odd use of 
 the word; 1. S. ' -Jwoa'/^i/^s '= acknowledge ; st. 3. 1- 5i ■'^' 
 = pity, as before. 
 
1 54 Notes and Illustrations. 
 
 Page 120, St. 2, 1. 3, '/owrf/j/ ' = foolishly ; 1. 4, '■ Toya^ — his earlier book of 
 Laura has for secondary title ' Toyes of a Traueller' (1597) ; 
 1.5, 'Nouell ' — see on p. 3, st. 3, 1. 2 ; st. 3, 1. 4, ' Siui '= stump 
 or bare trunk of an old tree. See Richardson, s.v. 
 
 „ 124, St. 3, 1. 5, ' long '= belong. 
 
 „ 125, St. 2, 1. I — proverbial saying ; 1. 5, 'ja»i!/>'= agree; 1.6, ' their' = 
 the maid's and the heart's : they look in one another's faces, so 
 to speak, and discern what each can expect of the other. 
 
 „ 126, St. 3, 1. S, ' vary '= quarrel — the noun ' variance ' was already com- 
 monly used in this sense ; st. 4, I. 3, 'le^e'= unless. 
 
 „ 127, St. 2, 1. 2, 'Fale'= veil. 
 
 „ 128, St. I, 1. I, ' Swi/i^iei our yiares'=^ collective plnral. 
 
 ,, 130, St. 3, 1. 2, 'rticAlcJi'= careless, as before. 
 
 ,, 132, St. 4,1. 5, ' Satani/e' — as already noted, a form affected by Tofte. 
 See Introduction, for other examples. 
 
 A. B. G. 
 
 Printed by Charles E. Simms, Xing Street, Manchester. 
 
ALBA. 
 
 THE MONTH'S MINDE 
 
 OF 
 
 A MELANCHOLY LOVER. 
 
 BV 
 
 ROBERT TOFTE, GENTLEMAN. 
 (1598.) 
 
 EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART, LL.D., F.S.A., 
 
 St. George's, Blackburn, Lancashire. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 *jj* The plate of illustrations of the Italian Taylor and his Boy, after 
 the quaint originals, by Rev. J. W. Ebswort'h, M.A., will be delivered 
 with the December issue. 
 
 Sixty-two Copies only. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE SUBSCRIBERS. 
 1880. 
 
ALBA. 
 
 THE MONTH'S MINDE 
 
 OF 
 
 A MELANCHOLY LOVER. 
 
 ROBERT TOFTE, GENTLEMAN. 
 
 (1598.) 
 
 EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES AND ILLUSTEATIONS, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART, LL.D., F.S.A. 
 
 St. George's, Blackburn, Lancashire. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Sixty-iwo Copies only. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 1880. 
 
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