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BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
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Cornell University Library 
 PR 2199.W73 1886 
 
 Wllloby his avisa. 
 
 3 1924 013 117 324 
 
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/cu31924013117324 
 
John LEIGH, Esq. 
 
 The Rt. Hon. LORD COLERIDGE. 
 
 The Very Rev. THE DEAN OF EXETER. 
 
 Ciranxil. 
 J. EGLINTON BAILEY, Esq,, F.S.A. 
 Rev. W. E. BUCKLEY, M.A., Middleton Chem 
 THOMAS SCHOFIELD, Esq. 
 CHAS. W. SUTTON, Esq. 
 JOSEPH THOMPSON, Esq. 
 RICHAId WOOD, Esq., 
 GEORGE MILNER, Esq., Treasurer. 
 W. Vf. DAWSON, Esq., Secretary. 
 
 LIST OF PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 /„^ For the First Year 1867-8. 
 
 1. The Proverbs and Epigrams of John Heywood. Reprinted from the Original 
 
 Edition of 1562. 
 
 2. The Works of John Taylor the Water Poet. Reprinted from the Folio Edition 
 
 of 1630. Part I. 
 
 For the Second Year 1868-9. 
 
 3. The Works of John Taylor the Water Poet. Reprinted from the Folio of 
 
 1630. Part II. 
 
 4. The Works of John Taylor the Water Poet. Reprinted from the Folio of 
 
 1630. Part III. {Completing the volume.') 
 
 5. Zepheria. Reprinted from the Original Edition of 1394. 
 
 For the Third Year 1.869-70. 
 
 6. The ■EKATOMHAoiA or Passionate Centurie. of Love, by Thomas Watson, 
 
 Reprinted from the Original Edition of (circa) igS j. 
 
 7. Works of John Taylor the Water Poet, not included in the Folio Volvime of 
 
 1630. Reprinted from the Original Edition?. First Collection, 
 
WILLOBY 
 
 HIS AVISA. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE SPENSER SOCIETY. 
 
 IS»( 
 
 s 
 
K.^(.(.4'2. 
 
 Printeu by Charles E. Simms, 
 Manchester. 
 
PRELIMINARY NOTICE. 
 
 THE volume now issued to the Members of the SPENSER 
 Society is printed from a copy in the library of the 
 President. The only copy mentioned by Mr. Hazlitt in his 
 Hand-book of Early English Literature is in the British 
 Museum. This had previously belonged to Mr. Mitford. In 
 the note to Hazlitt's notice of the work it is stated that Mr. 
 Skegg had an imperfect copy of this edition, wanting the title. 
 The volume in the President's collection is not quite perfect, but 
 it has been carefully collated with that in the British Museum. 
 Hazlitt has given the title-page, in which it is described as 
 the fifth edition ("The fifth time corrected and augmented"). 
 The first edition was printed in IS94- Another edition with 
 date 1596 is noticed by Hazlitt, but he says that he has 
 never met with this nor any which was described as the third 
 on the title. He mentions a copy at Britwell, of date 1605, 
 which on the title-page is said to be " the fourth time corrected 
 and augmented," and then notices one of 1609, which is also 
 stated to be "the fourth time corrected and augmented," but 
 which was really, says Hazlitt, the fifth edition ; whilst the 
 one now issued of 1635 is also described on the title-page as 
 being " the fifth time corrected and augmented." 
 
 The following remarks on the poem of Willobie are to be 
 found in Ritson's Bibliographia Poetica : " Willobie his Aiiisa, or 
 the true picture of a modest maid, and of a chast and constant 
 
wife, in hexameter verse, the little argument whereof was never 
 heretofore published. Imprinted at London by John Windet 
 1 594, 4to." This poem, of which the verse is remarkably smooth 
 and fluent for its age, appears to have been published in the 
 author's defence, by his friend Hadrian Dorrell. In the fourth 
 edition, 1609, is inserted " The victorie of English chastitie, 
 vnder the fained name of Avisa," subscribed " Thomas Willoby 
 frater Henrici Willoby nuper defuncti"; "The resolution of a 
 chast and constant wife," and "The praise of a contented 
 mind." Dorrell, in his "Apologie showing the true meaning 
 of Willoby his Avisa," dated, Oxford this 30th of June 1596, 
 says, "This poeticall fiction was penned by the author at 
 least for thirtie and fine yeeres since (1561) and lay in waste 
 papers in his study, as many other prettie things did, of his 
 designing." Prefixed are commendatory verses by Abell Emet, 
 and another, who signs Contraria Contrariis, and mentions 
 i^ Shakspeare's "Rape of Lucrece," but does not, as hath been 
 hastily surmised, celebrate Shakspeare himself: 
 The lines are, — 
 
 Tarquyne pluckt his glistering grape. 
 
 And Shat-speare paints poore Lucrece rape. 
 
 The first edition 1594 was printed in 4to, 70 leaves; that 
 of 1596, 1605, and 1609, also in 4to ; the 1605, and 1609 
 editions having each 80 leaves. The edition of 1635, the 
 original of this reprint, had 82 leaves, and was printed in i2mo. 
 
 The name of the reputed author is variously spelt Willoby, 
 Willobie, Willoughby, but who Henry Willoby was, or his 
 friend Hadrian Dorrell, has not been well ascertained, and it 
 is questionable whether the names are not both pseudonyms. 
 As Ritson states, the verses are smooth and fluent, and in some 
 of them there is considerable grace of diction. 
 
Under Cantos 45 and 47 are some stanzas by W. S. which 
 have excited much interest as to their possible authorship. 
 The lines are certainly clever, witty, and piquant, and can 
 have been from the pen of no ordinary writer, but whether 
 they will bear the lofty authorship that has been surmised for 
 them, many will be disposed to doubt. Though this is not 
 the first reprint of Willoby's Avisa, yet it is the first reprint 
 of the edition of 1638, which differs in several particulars 
 from the previous editions, and the Council were of opinion 
 that it deserved to be reproduced in facsimile, which could 
 fortunately be carried out from the copy in the President's 
 possession. It is a book of excessive rarity, and will, it is 
 hoped, be acceptable to the members. The President regrets 
 that in consequence of ill health and excessive occupation 
 there has been undue delay in the issue of the volume. This, 
 however, will not again occur. There are a few remaining 
 works of George Wither, the issue of which at an early period 
 is contemplated by the Council. At present the Council have 
 under consideration "The Tenne Tragedies of Seneca," trans- 
 lated into English by Jasper Heywood, Alexander Nevile, John 
 Studley, T. Nuce, and Thomas Newton, 1581, for the reprinting 
 of which a copy is available. 
 
 JOHN LEIGH, 
 
 President. 
 
 August, 1886. 
 
To all the conftant Ladies and 
 
 Gentlewomen of England 
 that fear e God. 
 
 j|Ardon me (fweete Ladies) if at this pre- 
 fent, I depriue you of a iuft Apologia 
 in defence of your conftant Chaftities, 
 deferued of many of you, and long fi- 
 thence promifed by my felfe , to fome of you : and 
 pardon me the fooner, for that I haue long expe6led 
 that the fame fhould haue beene performed by fome 
 of your felues, which I know are well able, if you 
 were but fo well willing to write in your owne 
 praife, as many men in thefe dayes (whofe tongues 
 are tipt with poyfon ) are too ready and ouer wil- 
 ling to fpeake and write to your difgrace. This oc- 
 cafion had been moft fit, (publifhing now the praife 
 of a conftant Wife) if I had beene but almoft ready. 
 But the future time may againe reueale as fit a 
 meanes hereafter for the performance of the fame : 
 if fo it feeme good to him that moderateth all. Con- 
 cerning this booke which I haue promifed to dedi- 
 cate to the fafe protedlion of your accuftomed 
 curtefies, if you aske mee for the perfons : I am al- 
 
 A 3 to- 
 
The Epijik Dedicatorie. 
 
 together ignorant of them, and haue fet them 
 downe onely as I finde them named or defciphered 
 in my authour. For the truth of this aftion, if you 
 enquire, I will more fully deliuer my opinion here- 
 after. Touching the fubftance of the matter it felfe, 
 I thinke verily that the nature, words, geftures, 
 promifes, and very quint effence, as it were, is there 
 liuely defcribed, of fuch lewde chapmen as vfe to 
 entife filly Maids, and affaile the Chaftitie of honeft 
 women. And no doubt but fome of you, that haue 
 beene tryed in the like cafe, (if euer you were tried) 
 fhall in fome one part or other acknowledge it to be 
 true. If mine Author haue found a Britaine Lucretia, 
 or an Englifh Sufanna, enuy not at her praife (good 
 Ladyes) but rather endeauour to deferue the like. 
 There may be as much done for any you, as he hath 
 done for his AviSA. Whatfoeuer is in me, I haue 
 vowed it wholy, to the exalting of the glory of your 
 fweete fexe, as time, occafion and ability fliall per- 
 mit. In the meane time I reft yours in all dutifull 
 affeflion, and commend you all to his proteftion, 
 vnder whofe mercy, we enioy all. 
 
 Yours mojl affe6lionate 
 Hadrian Dorrell. 
 
 To 
 
To the gentle and cour- 
 
 teous Reader. 
 
 I T is not longjithence (gentle Reader) that 
 my very good friend and chamberfellow 
 M. Henry Willoby, a young man and a 
 fcholler of very good hope, being dejirous 
 to fee thefafhions of other countries for a time, depar- 
 ted voluntary to her Maieflies feruice. Who at his 
 departure chofe me amongfl the rejl of his friends, 
 vnto whom he repofed fo much trufl, that he deliue- 
 red me the key of hisfludy and tJie vfe of all his bookes 
 till his returne. Amongfl which (perufing them at 
 leifure) I found many pretty and witty conceits, as I 
 fuppofe of his owne doing. One among the refl I fancied 
 fo much , that I haue ventured fo far re vpon his 
 friendfJtip, as to publifh it without his confent. As I 
 thinke it not neceffarie, to be ouer curious in ano- 
 ther mans labour, fo yet fomething I mufl fay for 
 the better vnderflanding of the whole matter. And 
 therefore, firfl for tJte thing it felfe, whether it be al- 
 togetJier fained, or in fome part true, or altogether 
 
 A 4 true, 
 
The Epiftle 
 
 true, and yet in mojl part poetically Jltadowed, you 
 mujl giue me leaue to fpeake by conie£lure, and not 
 by knowledge. My conie£lure is doubtful, and there- 
 fore! make you the Judges. Concernifig the name of 
 Auifa, / thinke it to be a fained name like vnto Quids 
 Corinna, and tltere are two caufes that make me thus 
 so thinke: Firfl, for that I neuer heard of any of that 
 name that I remember; and next, for that in a 
 voide Paper rolled vp in this booke, I found 
 this very name A V I S A , written in great 
 letters, a pretty diflance a funder, and vnder euery 
 letter, a word beginning with the fame letter, in this 
 
 f'"-- A- V- I- S- A- 
 
 Amans. Vxor. inuiolata. femper. amanda. 
 That is in effe£l. A louing wife, that neuer viola- 
 ted her faith, is alwayes to be beloued. Which makes 
 me conie£lure, that he minding for his recreation to 
 fet out the Idaa of a conflant wife, (rather defcribing 
 what good Wiues fhould doe, then regiflring 
 what any hath done) deuifed a womans name, that 
 might fitly expreffe this womans nature, wltom kee 
 •would aime at: defirous in this (as I conie£lure) to 
 imitate a far off, either Plato in his common-wealth, 
 or More in his Vtopia. This my furmife of his mea- 
 ning, is confirmed alfo by the fight of other od papers 
 that I found, wherein he had, as I take it, out of Cor- 
 nelius Agrippa, drawne the feuerall difpofitions of 
 tJie Italian, the Spaniard, the Frenchman, the Ger- 
 maine, and the Englifhman, and how they are affeSled 
 in hue. The Italian diffembling his loue, affaileth the 
 
 woman 
 
To the Reader 
 
 woman Icloitcd, ivith certaine prepared wantonnejfe : 
 he praifeth her in written ver/es, and extolleth her to 
 the heaitens. 
 
 The Spaniard is impatient in burning lone, very 
 mad with troubled lafciuioufneffe, he runneth furi- 
 oujly, and zvith pitifull complaints, bewailing his fer- 
 uent dejire, doth call vpon his Lady, and worjhippcth 
 her, but hauing obtained his purpofe maketh her com-^ 
 mon to all men. 
 
 The Frenchman endeuoureth to ferue, he feeketh 
 to pleafure his woman withfongs and difports, &c. 
 
 The Germane and Englijhman being milder of 
 nature are inflamed by little and little, but being e- 
 namored, they inftantly require with arte, and entife 
 with gifts; &c. Which fever al qualities are general- 
 ly expreffed by this Author in the two firfl trials or 
 affaults made by the noble man, and the lufty Caua- 
 lieros, Captaines or cutters, &c. Signifying by 
 this generality ; that our noblemen, gentlemen, Cap- 
 taines, and lufly youths haue of late learned thefafhi- 
 ons of all thefe countries how to folicite their caufes 
 and court their Ladies, and louers : and this con- 
 tinueth from the fecond Canto, to the end of the 
 two and twentieth. 
 
 After this he comes to defcribe thefe natures a- 
 gaine in particular examples more plainely, and be- 
 ginneth firfl with the Frenchman vnder the fhadow 
 of thefe letters, D.B. from the three and twentieth 
 Canto vnto the end of the three and thirtieth. Second- 
 ly, the Englifhman or Germane, vnder thefe Letters 
 
 D.H. 
 
The Epiftle 
 
 D.H. from the 34. Canto vnto the end of the forty 
 three. Lajily, the Spaniard and Italian who more fu- 
 rioufly inuadeth his hue, and more pathetically in- 
 dureth, tlien all tite refi, from the forty foure Canto to 
 the end of the booke. Itfeemes that in this lafi exam- 
 ple the author names himfelfe, and fo defcribeth his 
 owne hue : who that was, I know not, and I will not 
 be curwus. 
 
 All thefe are fo rightly defcribed according to their 
 nature that it may feeme the Autlwr rather meant to 
 fhew what fuits might be made, and how they may 
 be anfwered, then that there hath been any fuch thing 
 indeed. 
 
 Thefe things of the ottefide lead me to thinke it al- 
 togetlier a fained matter, both for the names and the 
 fubfiance, and a plaine morall plot, fecretly to infi- 
 nuate, how honefl maides and women in fuch tempta- 
 tions fhould fland vpon their gard, confidering the 
 glory and praife that commends a fpotleffe life, and 
 the blacke ignominy and foule contempt that waiteth 
 vpon a wicked and diffolute behauiour. 
 
 Yet of the other fide, when I doe more deepely 
 confider of it and more narrowly weigh euery parti- 
 cular part, I am driuen to thinke that there is fome- 
 thing of truth hidden vnder this fhadow. Tlie reafons 
 that moue me are thefe. Firfi in the fame paper where 
 I fotmd the name <?/" Auifa written in great letters, as 
 T faid before, I found this alfo written with the An- 
 thers owne hand, videlicet. Yet I would not haue 
 Auifa to be thought a publike fidlion, nor a truth- 
 
 leffe 
 
To the Reader 
 
 leffe inuention, for it may be, that I haue at leafl 
 heard of one in the weft of England, in whom the 
 fubftance of all this hath beene verified, and in 
 many things the verie words fpecified ; which hath 
 indured thefe and many more, and many greater 
 affaults, yet, as heere, fhe ftands vnfpotted, and vn- 
 conquered. 
 
 Againe, if we marke the exaSl defcription of her 
 birth, her country, the place of her abode, and fuch o- 
 ther circumjiances, but efpecially the matter and 
 manner of their talkes and conferences, mee thinkes 
 it is a matter almojl impojfible that any man could 
 htuent all this without fome ground or foundation to 
 build on. 
 
 This inforceth me to conie£lure, that though the 
 matter be handled poetically, yet there is fomething 
 vnder thefe fayned names and fhowes, that haue been 
 done trnely. Now iudge you, for I can giue no fen- 
 tence in that I know not, if there be any fuch confiant 
 Wife, (as I doubt not but tJiere may be) I wifh that 
 there were more would fpring from her afhes, and 
 that all were fuch. Whether my author knew, or heard 
 of any fuch I cannot tell, but of mine owne knowledge, 
 T dare to fweare that T know one A.D. that either 
 hath or would, if occafioit werefo offered, indure tJiefe 
 and many greater temptations with a confiant mind 
 and fe tied heart. And therefore here I mufl worthily 
 reprehend the enuious rage both of heathen Poets, and 
 of fome Chrifiian and Englifh writers, which fo far 
 debafe the credit and flrength of the whole fexe, that 
 
 they 
 
The Epiftle 
 
 they feare not with lying tongues wickedly to publijh, 
 that tJtere are none at all that can continue conjlant, 
 if they be tryed. Hereof /prang thefe falfe accufmg 
 fpeeches of olde Poets. 
 Ludunt formofae : cafla eft, quam nemo rogauit. 
 
 Faire wenches loue to play : 
 And they are onely chafl whom no man doth affay. 
 
 And againe, 
 Rara auis in terris, nigroque fimillima cygno, 
 Fcemina cafta volat. 
 
 A rarefeene bird that neuer flies, on earth, neyetin ayre, 
 Like blackifh fwan a woman chafl, iffhe beyong and faire. 
 
 This falfe opinion bred thefe foule mouthed fpeeches 
 of Fryer Mantuan , that vpbraids all ivomen with 
 fleeting vnconflancie. This made Ariofto and others 
 to inuent, and publifh fo many lewd and vntrue 
 tales of womens vnfaithf nines. And this is the catife 
 that in this bookeyee fliall fo often find it obie£led a- 
 gainfl A VIS A by all her fu tors, tliat no woman 
 of what degree foeuer can be conftant if fhe be much 
 requefied, but that the befl will yeeld. But the befl is, 
 this common and coorfe conceit is receiued but one- 
 ly among common, lewd, and careleffe men, who being 
 wicked themfelues, giue fentence of all others accor- 
 ding to the loofe and lawleffe humors whereivithall 
 they feele their owne flraying , and wandring affe£li- 
 ons to be infected. For they forfooth, becaufe in diners 
 and fundrie places (as they often wickedly boafi ) 
 they may for an Angel, and a great deale lejfe, haue 
 hyred nags to ride at their pleafure, fuch as make a 
 
 Jinne- 
 
To the Reader. 
 
 Jinneftill gaine of a filthy carcas ; becaufe in other coun- 
 tries, ivhere Stewes and Brothell houfes are winckt at 
 they fee oftentimes, the fayrefl and not the meanefl 
 flocke to the fellowfhip offuch filthy freedome, thinke 
 prefently that it is but a money matter, or a little en- 
 treaty, to ouerthrow the chaflity of any woman what- 
 foeuer. But if al women were indeed fuck as the woma 
 figured vnder the name ^ Auifa either is or at leafi is 
 fuppofed to be, they fhould quickly reflore againe their 
 ancient credite, and glory, which a few wicked wan- 
 tons haue thus generally obfcured. In the tzventy and 
 feuen Canto, I finde how D.B. perfwccdeth with A. 
 that it is a little fin or no fault, to hue a friend befides 
 her husband. Whereupon enquiring more of the matter 
 I haue heard fome of the occupation verifie it for a 
 tnith : That among the befl fort, they are accounted 
 very honefi women in fome cities now, that loue but 
 one friend befides their husband and that it is thought 
 amongfl them a thing almoft lawfull. If this be true, 
 {as I hardly thinke it to be true, becaufe wicked men 
 feare not to report any vntruths) but if it be true, I 
 feare leafi the ripeneffe of our finne cry to the Lord 
 for vengeance againft vs; that tremble not at the 
 remembrance of Gods iudgements, that haue bound 
 a heauy curfe and woe vpon the backe and confidence 
 of them. That fpeake good of euill, and euill of good, 
 that iSffuch as are growne to that point, that they are 
 no longer afhamed of their fin, nor care for any honefty, 
 but are become wilfully defperate in their performance 
 of all kind of impiety. 
 
 But 
 
The Epiftle 
 
 But T leaue this to the godly preachers to dilate 
 more amply. And to returne to my purpofe although 
 I mujl confejfe that of all forts of people, there haue 
 beene, and will beflill,fome loofily, and lewdly giuen, 
 yet this can bee no excufe to lauifh tongues, to con- 
 demne all generally. For I dare to venture my hand, 
 and my head vpon this point, that, let the foure mo- 
 rall vertues be in order fet dovJHe, f Prudence, ^ 
 
 Fortitude Land 
 Temperance I 
 luftice. ■' 
 
 let the holy fcriptures be fearched from the beginning 
 to the end, and let all the ancient hiflories both eccle- 
 fiafiicall and prophane be thorowly examined, and 
 tliere will be found women enough, that in the perfor- 
 mance of all thefe vertues, haue matched, if not ouer- 
 matched men of euery age ; which I dare my felfe, ve- 
 rifie in their behalfes vpon the venter of lofing my 
 credite if I had time and leifure. A mong infinite num- 
 bers, to giueyou a tafle of one or two, for wifdome and 
 iuflice, what fay you to Placilla, wife to the Empe- 
 rour Theodofius ? Shee was wont euery day in her 
 owne perfon to vijite the Jicke, the poore and the 
 maimed: And if at any timefheefaw the Emperour 
 Theodoret declining from iuflice to any hard courfe, fhe would 
 eccies. hift. n^ him. Remember himfelfe, from whence hee 
 ' ■ ^ '^^^' ^'^' came, and what he was, in what Hate he had beene, 
 and in what ftate he was now, which if he would 
 doe, he fhould neuer wax proud nor cruell, but ra- 
 ther humble, mercifuU and iuft. 
 
 For 
 
 10 
 
To the Reader. 
 
 For temperance, how fay yon to the wife of one iVto&ox. 
 Pelagius of Laodicea, which being yong her felfe, £=^1. hift. 
 and married to a yong and lufly man, was yet not- ' ■ 4- =■ 
 zvithfianding contented willingly to forbeare carnall 
 pleafure, during her whole life. I bring not this 
 womans example for any liking I haue to her fail, be- 
 ing lawfully married, but rather againfl the curious 
 carpers at womans flrength, that protie thatfome wo- 
 men haue done that, which few can doe. 
 
 For Fortitude and temperance both, I find, that in Eufebius 
 Antioch , there was a noble woman with her two '''^- ^- "^^P- ^4- 
 daughters, rather then they would be deflowred, cafi 
 themfelues all willingly into a great riuer , and 
 drowned themfelues. 
 
 And alfo that in Rome, there was a Senators wife. Cap. 27. 
 who when fhee heard that there were meffengers fent ^°°''^,/°''. 
 from Maxentius the tyrant, to bring her vnto mm, Eufebius a 
 perforce to bee rauifhed of him , and feeing that rare exam- 
 her htifband was not of ability and power to defend pl^ of con- 
 her, fhee vfed this pollicie. Shee requefled that they ^^^^l^'' 
 would giue her leaite to put on fame better apparrel, 
 and to attire her felfe more decently : which being 
 granted, and fhe gotten into a Chamber by her felfe, 
 fhe tooke a fword and pierced her felfe to the heart, 
 ratlter then fhee would bee counted the Emperours 
 whore. 
 
 By this may bee feene what may be faid in this 
 argument : but leauing this to fome other time, or 
 to fome other better able, T returne to my au- 
 thor. 
 
 For 
 
 II 
 
The Epiftle 
 
 For the perfons and matter , you haue heard my 
 C07iie£lure: now for the manner of the compojition, di- 
 fpofition, inuention and order of the verfe, I mujl 
 leaue euery mans fenfe to himfelfe, for that which 
 pleafeth me, may not fancie others. But to fpeake 
 my iudgement, the inuention, the argument, and tite 
 difpofition is not common, nor (that I know) euer 
 handled of any man before in this order. For the com- 
 pofition and order of the verfe, although he flie not 
 aloft with the wings ^Aftrophel, nor dare to com- 
 pare with the Arcadian fheepheard, or any way 
 match with the dainty Faiery Queene, yet fhall you 
 find his words andphrafes neither triuiall, nor abfurd; 
 but all the whole worke, for the verfe pleafant, with- 
 out hardneffe, fmooth without any roughnes, fweete 
 without tedioufneffe, eafie to bee vnderfiood, without 
 harfh abfurditie : yeelding a gracious harmony euery 
 where, to the delight of the Reader. 
 
 I haue chriflned it by the name of Willoby his 
 Auifa , becaufe I fuppofe it was his doing , being 
 written with his owne hand. How hee will like my 
 boldnejfe, both in the publifhing and naming of it , 
 I know not , For tJte encouraging and helping of 
 M aides and Wiues to hold an honefl and confiant 
 courfe againfl all vnhonefl and lewde temptations, I 
 haue done that I haue I haue not added nor detra£led 
 any thing from the worke itfelfe, but haue let it paffe 
 without altering any thing, onely in the end I haue 
 added to fill vp fome voyd paper certaine fragments 
 and ditties as ; a refolution of a chafl and confiant 
 
 Wife 
 
 12 
 
To the Reader. 
 
 Wife, to the tune of fortune , and the praife of a con- 
 tented mind, which I found wrapped altogether with 
 this and therefore knew not whether it did any way 
 belong vnto this or not. 
 
 Thus leauing to trouble your patience with farther 
 delaies I commit you to the good gouernement of 
 Gods fpirit. From my chamber in Ox- 
 ford this firfl of 
 0£lober. 
 
 Hadrian Dorrell. 
 
 B Abell 
 
 13 
 
Abell Emet in commendation 
 of Willobies Auifa. 
 
 nnC Willoby j/^« worthy dames, yeeld worthy praife; 
 Who/ejiluer pipe fofweetly/ouds your Jiragedelaies 
 Whofe lofty Jlile with golde wings remouts your fame 
 The glory of your princely fexe thefpotleffe name, 
 O happy wench, who fofhe be, if any bee. 
 That thus defertid thus to be praif'd by Willobie, 
 Shall I beleeue ? T mufl beleeue, fuch one there is, 
 Wei hafl thou f aid, long maifl thou fay, fuch one there is. 
 If one there be, I can belieue tJtere be no more : 
 This wicked age, thefefinful times breeds no fuchfiore 
 Suchflluer mines, fuch golde mines who could refufe. 
 Such offer made, and not recieu'd, I greatly mufe: 
 Such deepe deceit in friendly fhews fuch tempting fits, 
 Toflill withfland, do paffe the reach of womans wits : 
 You countrie maides,yee Pean nimphes reioyce &Jing 
 To fee from you a chafl, a new Yi'iana. fpring : 
 A t whofe report you mufl not fret you may notfrowne. 
 But rather flriue by due defertfor like renowne. 
 Her conflant faith in hot affay hath won the game, 
 Whofe praife fhal Hue, whefheis dead with lafiingfame 
 If my conceit from flrangers motith may credit get, 
 A brauer Theame more fweetly pend, was neuer yet. 
 
 Abell Emet. 
 
 H 
 
Ill prayfe of Willoby his Aulfa 
 
 Hexametron to the 
 Author. 
 
 IiV Lauine land though Liuie boaji, 
 There haue beenefeene a Conftant Dame : 
 Though Rome lament that/he haue loft 
 The Garland of her rareftfame, 
 Yet now ye fee that heere is found, 
 As great a Faith in Engliih. ground : 
 
 Though Collatine haue dearely bought, 
 
 To high renowne a lafting life, 
 
 And found, that moft in vaine haue fought. 
 
 To haue a f aire and Conftant wife 
 
 Yet Tarquine J>luckt his gliftering grape , 
 And Shake-tpeare paints poore Lucrece rape. 
 
 Though ?>vSa.nfttine in faithfull praife. 
 As twinkling ftarres in Chryftall skie : 
 Penelop's_/«;«^ though Greekes do raife. 
 Of faithfull wiues to make vp three : 
 
 To thinke the Truth, and fay no lejfe; 
 
 Our K\x\{a.fhall make a meffe. 
 
 This number knits fofure a knot , 
 Time doubts that hefhall adde no more , 
 Vnconftant Nature hath begot, 
 Of Fleeting Feemes, fuch fickle ftore, 
 
 Two thoufand yeares haue fcarely feene, 
 
 Such as the worft of thefe haue beene 
 
 B 2 Then 
 
 IS 
 
Then Aui-Sufan ioytie in one, 
 Let Lucres Auis be thy name. 
 This Englifli "Edigle foares alone. 
 And far furmounts all others fame. 
 
 Where high or low, where great or f mall, 
 
 This Britan Bird outflies them all. 
 
 Were thefe three happy that Jtaue found, 
 Braue Poets to depaint their praife f 
 Of Rurall Pipe, with fweetefi found, 
 That haue beene heard thefe many dates. 
 
 Sweet Willobie his Auis blefl. 
 
 That makes her mount aboue the refi. 
 
 Contraria Contrariis : 
 
 Vigilantius Dormitanus. 
 
 WIL- 
 
 i6 
 
WILLOBY HIS 
 
 A VI S A. 
 
 OR, 
 
 The true Pidure of a modeft 
 
 M A I D E, and of a chajle 
 
 and conftant 
 
 Wife. 
 
 Cant. I. 
 
 Et martiall men of Mars his praife, 
 Sound warlike trump, let luft-led youth 
 Of wicked loue write wanton layes ; 
 Let fhepheards fmg their fheepecoates , 
 The wifer fort confeffe it plaine, (ruth : 
 
 That thefe haue fpent good time in vaine. 
 
 My fleepy Mufe that wakes but now,. 
 Nor now had wak't if one had flept. 
 To vertues prayfe hath paft her vow, 
 To paint the Rofe which grace hath kept. 
 
 Of fweeteil Rofe, that ftill doth fpring. 
 
 Of vertues bird my Mufe muft fing. 
 
 B 3 The 
 
 17 
 
2 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 The bird that doth refemble right, 
 The Turtles faith in conftant loue, 
 The faith that firft her promife plight ; 
 No change, nor chance could once remoue : 
 
 This haue I tri'd ; This dare I truft. 
 
 And fing the truth, I will, I muft. 
 
 Afflidled Sufans fpotleffe thought , 
 Entis't by lufl to finfull crime , 
 To lafting fame her name hath brought , 
 Whofe praife incounters endleffe time : 
 
 I fing of one whofe beauties warre, 
 
 For trials paife Sufanna's farre. 
 
 The wandring Greekes renowned mate , 
 
 That ftill withftood fuch hot affayes 
 
 Of raging luft, whofe doubfull ftate 
 
 Sought ftrong refuge, from ftrange delayes, 
 For fierce affaults and tryals rare, 
 With this my Nimph may not compare. 
 
 Hot tryals trie where Gold be pure. 
 The Diamond daunts the fharpeft edge , 
 Light chaffe, fierce flames may not endure. 
 All quickely leape the lowly hedge, 
 The obiedl of my Mufe hath paft 
 Both force and flame, yet ftands fhe fafl:. 
 
 Though Eagle-eyde this bird appeare. 
 Not bluftit at beames of Phcehus raies : 
 Though Faulkon wing'd to pearce the ayre, 
 Whofe high-pla'fl: heart no feare difmayes : 
 
 Yet fprang fhe not from Eagles neft. 
 
 But Turtle-bred, loues Turtle beft. 
 
 At 
 
 i8 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 3 
 
 At wefterne fide of Albions He, 
 Where Aujiine pitcht his Monkifli tent, 
 Where Shepheards fing, where Mufes fmile. 
 The Graces met with one confent, 
 To frame each one in fundrie part, 
 Some cunning worke to (hew their art. 
 
 Firft Venus fram'd a luring eye, 
 A fweet afpedl, and comely grace ; 
 There did the Rofe and Lillie lye. 
 That brauely deckt a fmiling face. 
 
 Here Cupids mother bent her will. 
 
 In this to fhew her vtmoft skill. 
 
 Then Pallas gaue a reaching head. 
 With deepe conceits, and paffmg wit, 
 A fetled mind, not fancy-led, 
 Abhorring Cupids frantique fit, 
 
 With modeft lookes, and blufhing cheekes, 
 
 A filed tongue which none miflikes. 
 
 Diana deckt the remnant parts. 
 With feature braue, that nothing lacke, 
 A quiuer full of piercing Darts, 
 She gaue her hanging at her backe ; 
 
 And in her hand a golden Shaft, 
 
 To conquer Cupids creeping craft. 
 
 This done they come to take the view. 
 Of nouell worke of pereleffe frame ; 
 Amongft them three, contention grew, 
 But yet Diana gaue the name, 
 
 Auifa fhall (he called be, 
 
 The chiefe attendant ftill on me. 
 
 B 4 When 
 
 19 
 
Beautie 
 without 
 riches, is as 
 a faire pidlu- 
 re without 
 life. 
 
 lealoufie 
 breeds enuy. 
 Both toge- 
 ther breed 
 frenzie yet 
 neither of 
 them both 
 can preuaile 
 againft wan- 
 dring fancy. 
 
 A ftrange 
 baite. 
 
 4 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 When luno view'd her luring grace, 
 Olde luno blulht to fee a new, 
 She fear'd left loue would like this face, 
 And fo perhaps might play vntrue. 
 They all admir'd fo fweet a fight, 
 They all enuide fo rare a wight. 
 
 When luno came to giue her wealth, 
 (Which wanting beautie wants her felfe) 
 She cryde, this face needes not my pelfe. 
 Great riches fow the feeds of ftrife : 
 I doubt not, fome Olympian power 
 Will fill her lap, with golden fliower. 
 
 This iealous luno faintly faide, 
 As halfe mifdeeming wanton loue, 
 But chafte Diana tooke the maide , 
 Such new-bred qualmes quite to remoue : 
 O iealous enuy, filthy beaft , 
 For enuie luno gaue her leaft. 
 
 In lew of lun'os Golden part, 
 Diana gaue her double grace, 
 A chafte defire, a conftant heart, 
 Difdaine of loue in fawning face, 
 A face, and eye, that fhould intife : 
 A fmile, that fhould deceiue the wife. 
 
 A fober tongue that fhould allure, 
 And draw great numbers to the fielde ; 
 A flinty heart, that fhould endure. 
 All fierce affaults and neuer yeeld, 
 
 And feeming oft as though fhe would ; 
 
 Yet fardeft ofif when that fhe fhould. 
 
 Can 
 
 20 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Can filthy finke yeeld wholfome aire, 
 Or vertue from a vice proceede ? 
 Can enuious heart, or iealous feare 
 Repell the things that are decreede ? 
 By enuy though fhe loft her thrift, 
 She got by grace a better gift. 
 
 Not farre from thence there lies a vale, 
 
 A Rofie vale in pleafant plaine ; 
 
 The Nimphes frequent this happy dale, 
 
 Olde Helicon reuiues againe ; 
 Here Mufes fing, here Satyres play, 
 Here mirth refounds both night and day. 
 
 At Eaft of this a Caftle ftands, 
 By ancient Shepheards built of old, 
 And lately was in Shepheards hands ; 
 Though now by brothers bought and folde. 
 At Weft fide fprings a Criftall well. 
 There doth this chafte Auifa dwell. 
 
 And there ftie dwels in publique eye, 
 Shut vp from none that lift to fee ; 
 She anfweres all that lift to trie, 
 Both high and low of each degree : 
 But few that come, but feele her dart. 
 And trie her well ere they depart. 
 
 They try'd her hard in hope to gaine. 
 Her milde behauiour breeds their hope. 
 Their hope affures them to obtaine. 
 Till hauing runne their witleffe fcope ; 
 They find their vice by vertue croft, 
 Their foolifh words, and labour loft. 
 
 This 
 
 21 
 
6 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 This ftrange efifeft, that all fliould craue, 
 
 Yet none obtaine their wrong defire, 
 
 A fecret gift that nature gaue, 
 
 To feele the froft, amidft the fire : 
 
 Blame not this Dians Nimph too much, 
 Sith God by nature made her fuch. 
 
 Let all the Graces now be glad, 
 
 That fram'd a grace that paft them all. 
 
 Let Juno be no longer fad ; 
 
 Her wanton loue hath had a fall ; 
 Ten yeares haue tride this conftant dame, 
 And yet fhe holds a fpotleffe fame. 
 
 Along this plaine there lies a downe, 
 Where Shepheards feede their frisking flocke ; 
 Her Sire the Mayor of the towne, 
 A louely fhout of ancient ftocke, 
 
 Full twenty yeares fhe lined a maide. 
 
 And neuer was by man betraide. 
 
 At length by lunds great requeft, 
 Diana loth, yet gaue her leaue, 
 Of flowring yeares to fpend the reft 
 In wed-locke band ; but yet receiue, 
 A good gift. Quoth (he, this gift ; Thou virgin pure, 
 Chaft wife in wed-locke Ihalt indure. 
 
 O happy man that fhall enioy 
 
 A bleffmg of fo rare a price ; 
 
 That frees the heart from fuch annoy ; 
 
 As often doth torment the wife, 
 
 A louing wife vnto her death, 
 
 With full affurance of her faith. 
 
 When 
 
 22 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 7 
 
 When flying fame began to tell, 
 How beauties wonder was return'd, 
 From Countrie hils, in Townes to dwell, 
 With fpeciall gifts and grace adorn'd, 
 
 Of Suters ftore there might you fee ; 
 
 And fome were men, of high degree. 
 
 But wifedome wild her chufe her mate, 
 
 If that fhe lou'd a happy life. 
 
 That might be equall to her ftate. 
 
 To crop the fprigges of future ftrife ; 
 
 Where rich in grace, where found in health, 
 Moft men doe wed but. for the wealth. 
 
 Though iealous hmo had denide 
 This happy wench, great ftore of pelfe : 
 Yet is (he now in wed-locke tide, 
 To one that loues her as himfelfe, 
 
 So thus they liue, and thus they loue ; 
 
 And God doth bleffe them from aboue. 
 
 This rare-feene bird, this Phenix fage 
 
 Yeelds matter to my drowfie pen, 
 
 The mirrour of this finfuU age, 
 
 That giues vs beafts in fhapes of men. 
 Such beafts as ftill continue finne. 
 Where age doth leaue, there youths begin. 
 
 Our Englifli foile, to Sodoms fmke 
 Exceffme finne transformd of late. 
 Of foule deceite the lothfome linke. 
 Hath worne all faith cleane out of date. 
 
 The greateft finnes mongft greateft fort, 
 
 Are counted now but for a fport. 
 
 Old 
 
 23 
 
8 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Old Afaes grandame is reftor'd ; 
 Her grouie Caues are new refind : 
 2 chro. 15. '^^^ monfter Idoll is ador'd 
 1 6- By lufty dames of Machds kinde ; 
 
 They may not let this worfhip fall, 
 Although they leefe their honours all. 
 
 Our Moab Cozhies call no feare, 
 To fet in view of euery eye, 
 Num. 25. 6. Their gaineleffe games they hold fo deare, 
 They follow mufi:, although they die. 
 For why ? the fword that Phineas wore, 
 Is broken now, and cuts no more. 
 
 My tender Mufe, that neuer try'd 
 Her ioynted wings till prefent time, 
 At firft the peereleffe bird efpy'd, 
 That mounts aloft, deuoide of crime ; 
 Though high ftie fore, yet will I trie, 
 Where I her paffage can defcrie. 
 
 Her high conceits, her conftant mind ; 
 
 Her fober talke, her ftout denies ; 
 
 Her chafte aduice, here (hall you find ; 
 
 Her fierce affaults, her milde replies. 
 Her daily fight with great and fmall, 
 Yet conftant vertue conquers all. 
 
 The firft that faies to plucke the Rofe, 
 That fcarce appear'd without the bud. 
 With gorgeous (hewes of Golden glofe, 
 To fow the feeds that were not good : 
 Suppofe it were fome noble man 
 That tride her thus, and thus began. 
 
 The 
 
 24 
 
Thefirjl tryal of K\x\ia^ before Jhe was married, by a 
 Nobleman, under which is reprefented a warning 
 to all young maids of every degree, that they beware 
 of the alluring inticements of great men. 
 
 Cant. II. 
 
 Nob. 
 
 NOw is it time if thou be wife, 
 Thou happy maid, if thou canft see 
 Thy happy time, take good advife, 
 Good fortune laughs, be rul'd by me : 
 Be mid by me and here's my faith. 
 No Gold (hall want thee till thy death. 
 
 Thou knoweft my power, thou feeft my might 
 Thou knoweft I can maintain thee well 
 And help thy friends unto their right ; 
 Thou fhalt with me for ever Dwell, 
 My Secret friend thou fhalt remain 
 And all fhall turn to thy great gain. 
 
 Thou 
 
 25 
 
lo Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Thou Seeft thy parents mean eftate. 
 That barrs the hope of greater chance, 
 And if thou prove not wife too late, 
 Thou mayft thy Self and thine advance ; 
 
 Repulfe not fondly this good hap, 
 
 That now lies ofiferd in thy lap. 
 
 Abandon fear that barrs confent, 
 Repell the Ihame that fears a blot. 
 Let wifdome weigh what faith is meant ; 
 That all may praife thy happy lot ; 
 Think not I feek thy lives difgrace, 
 For thou fhalt have a Ladies place. 
 
 Thou art the firft my fancy chofe, 
 I know thy friends will like it well : 
 This friendly fault to none difclofe. 
 And what thou thinkft blufh not to tell, 
 Thou feeft my love thou knoweft my mind, 
 Now let me feel what grace I find. 
 
 Cant. III. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 YOur honours place, your riper years, 
 Might better frame fome graver talkes : 
 Midft Sunnie rays this cloud appears. 
 Sweet Rofes grow on prickle ftalks, 
 If I conceive what you requeft, 
 You aim at that I moft deteft. 
 
 My 
 
 26 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 1 1 
 
 My tender age that wants aduife, 
 And craues the aide of fager guides, 
 Should rather learne for to be wife, 
 To ftay my fteps from flippery Aides ; 
 
 Then thus to fucke, then thus to tafte, 
 
 The poys'ned fap, that kils at laft. 
 
 I wonder what your wifdome meant, 
 Thus to affault a filly maide : 
 Some fimple wench might chance confent, 
 By falfe refembling fliewes betraide : 
 
 I haue by grace a natiue fhield, 
 
 To lewde affaults that cannot yeeld. 
 
 I am too bafe to be your wife. 
 You chufe me for your fecret friend ; 
 That is to leade a filthy life. 
 Whereon attends a fearefull end : 
 
 Though I be poore I tell you plaine. 
 
 To be your whore, I flat difdaine. 
 
 Your high eftate, your filuer fhrines, 
 Repleate with winde and filthy ftinke : 
 Your glittering gifts, your golden mines : 
 May force fome fooles perhaps to fhrinke : 
 But I haue learn'd that fweeteft baite. 
 Oft fhrowds the hooke of moft deceit. 
 
 What great good hap, what happy time, 
 Your proffer brings, yet yeelding maides, 
 Of former age, which thought to clime, 
 To higher tops of earthly aides : 
 
 Come backe a while, and let them tell, 
 Where wicked Hues haue ended well. 
 
 SJwres 
 
12 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Shores wife, a Princes fecret friend, 
 Faire Rofamond, a Kings delight : 
 Yet both haue found a gaftly end, 
 And fortunes friends felt fortunes fpight : 
 
 What greater loyes could fancy frame, 
 
 Yet now we fee their lading (hame. 
 
 If Princely pallace haue no power, 
 To fhade the fhame of fecret finne : 
 If blacke reproach fuch names deuoure, 
 What gaine or glory can they win, 
 
 That tracing trafts of fliameleffe trade, 
 
 A hate of God and man are made ? 
 
 This onely vertue muft aduance. 
 
 My meane eftate to ioyfull bliffe : 
 
 For fhee that fwayes dame vertues launce, 
 
 Of happy ftate can neuer miffe : 
 
 But they that hope to gaine by vice, 
 
 Shall furely proue too late vnwife. 
 
 The roote of woe is fond defire, 
 That neuer feeles her felfe content : 
 But wanton wing'd will needs afpire, 
 To find the thing fhe may lament : 
 
 A courtly ftate, a Ladies place, 
 
 My former life will quite deface. 
 
 Such ftrange conceits may hap preuaile. 
 With fuch as loue fuch ftrong deceits, 
 But I am taught fuch qualmes to quaile, 
 And flee fuch fweet alluring baites : 
 
 The witleffe Flie plaies with the flame. 
 
 Till flae be fcorched with the fame. 
 
 You 
 
 28 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 13 
 
 You long to know what grace you find, 
 In me perchance, more then you would, 
 Except you quickly change your mind, 
 I find in you leffe then I fhould, 
 
 Moue this no more, vfe no reply, 
 
 He keepe mine honour till I die. 
 
 Cant. IIII. 
 
 Nob. 
 
 A Las good foule, and will you fo ? 
 You will be chafte Dianaes mate, 
 Till time haue woue the web of woe. 
 Then to repent will be too late : 
 You fhew your felfe fo foole precife, 
 That I can hardly thinke you wife. 
 
 You fprang belike of noble ftocke. 
 
 That ftand fo much vpon your fame. 
 
 You hope to flay vpon the fbocke, 
 
 That will preferue a faultleffe name : 
 But while you hunt for needleffe prayfe, 
 You loofe the prime of fweetefl: dayes. 
 
 A merry time when countrey maids, 
 Shall fi:and fforfooth^ vpon your gard. 
 And dare controU the Courtiers deeds, 
 At honours gate that watch and ward : 
 
 When Milk-maides fhall their pleafures flie, 
 
 And on their credits mufl: relie. 
 
 C Ah 
 
 29 
 
14 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Ah filly wench take not a pride, 
 Though thou my raging fancy moue, 
 Thy betters farre, if they were tride, 
 Would faine accept my proffered loue ; 
 T'was for thy good, if thou hadft wift, 
 For I may haue whom ere I lift. 
 
 But here thy folly may apeare, 
 Art thou precifer then a Queene ? 
 Queene loane of Naples did not feare, 
 To quite mens loue with loue againe, 
 And Majfalina, t'is no newes, 
 Was daily feene to haunt the ftewes. 
 
 And Cleopatra Prince of Nile, 
 With more then one was wont to play, 
 And yet fhe keepes her glorious ftile. 
 And fame that neuer fhall decay ; 
 
 What need'ft thou then to feare of fliame. 
 When Queenes and Nobles vfe the fame ? 
 
 Cant. V. 
 
 AVISA, 
 
 NEedes mufb the ftieepe ftray all awry, 
 Whofe fhepheards wander from their way ; 
 Needes muft the fickly patient die, 
 Whofe Do6lor feekes his Hues decay : 
 Needs muft the people well be taught, 
 Whofe chiefeft leaders are but naught. 
 
 Such 
 
 30 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 1 5 
 
 Such lawleffe guides Gods people found, 
 
 When Moab Maides allur'd their fall ; 
 
 They fought no falue to cure this wound, 
 
 Till God commands to hang them all ; 
 For wicked life a fhamefull end, 
 To wretched men, the Lord doth fend. 
 
 Was earth confum'd with wrackfuU waues, 
 Did Sodome burne and after fmcke ? 
 What fmne is that, which vengeance craues, 
 If wicked luft no fmne we thinke ? 
 
 blind conceits, O filthy breath ; 
 That drawes vs headlong to our death ! 
 
 If death be due to euery fmne. 
 
 How can I then be too precife ? 
 
 Where pleafures end, if paine beginne. 
 
 What neede haue we then to be wife ? 
 They weaue indeede the web of woe, 
 That from the Lord doe yeeld to goe. 
 
 I will remember whence I came, 
 I hunt not for this worldly prayfe, 
 I long to keepe a blameleffe fame. 
 And conftant heart gainfh hard affayes ; 
 If this be folly, want of skill, 
 
 1 will remaine thus foolifh ftill. 
 
 The blinfolde rage of Heathen Queenes, 
 Or rather queanes that knew not God ; 
 Gods heauy iudgements tried fmce. 
 And felt the waight of angrie rod : 
 
 God faue me from that Sodomes crie, 
 
 Whofe deadly fting fhall neuer die. 
 
 C 2 Cant. 
 
 31 
 
1 6 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. VI. 
 
 Nob. 
 
 FOrgtue me wench I did miftake, 
 I little thought that you could preach : 
 All worldly ioyes you muft forfake, 
 For fo your great Diuines doe teach ; 
 But yet beware, be not too bold, 
 A yongling Saint, a Diuell old. 
 
 Well wanton, well, thou art but yong, 
 This is the errour of thy youth, 
 Thou (halt repent this faith ere long, 
 And fee too late (perhaps) the truth : 
 And they that feeme fo pure at firft, 
 Are often found in proofe the worft. 
 
 Thy youth and beautie will not laft, 
 For fickenes one, the other age. 
 May captiue take, when both are pad, 
 You may haue leifure to be fage : 
 The time will come, if thefe retire, 
 The worft will fcorne what I defire. 
 
 Of chafte renowne you feeke the prayfe, 
 You build your hope aboue the ayre ; 
 When wonders laft not twenty dayes, 
 What need you rufticke rumours feare ? 
 Efteeme not words aboue thy wealth, 
 Which muft procure thy credites health. 
 
 32 
 
 And 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 1 7 
 
 And yet in truth I cannot fee, 
 From whence fuch great difcredit growes, 
 To loue in fpight of euery eye, 
 And fwimme in filkes and braueft fhowes ; 
 To take the choyce of daintieft meate. 
 And fee thy betters ftand and waite. 
 
 Thefe graue refpefls breed pleafures bane, 
 Thy youthly yeares for ioy doe craue, 
 And fading credite hath his wane, 
 That now to thee doth fhine fo braue. 
 
 That fmokie fame which hkes thee beft. 
 
 The wifeft haue efteemed leaft. 
 
 Cant. VII. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 WEU now I fee why Chrifts commends , 
 To louing mates the Serpents wit, 
 That flops his eares, and fo defends 
 His heart from luring founds vnfit : 
 If you your madnes will bewray. 
 He flop my eares, or goe my way. 
 
 Vlyjfes wife, yet dar'd not ftay, 
 
 The ticing founds of Syrens fong. 
 
 What fancy then doth me betray. 
 
 That thinke my felfe fo wife and flrong, 
 That dare to heare what you dare fpeake. 
 And hope for ftrength when you be weake ? 
 
 C 3 My 
 
 / 33 
 
1 8 Wilhby his Auifa. 
 
 My wifdome is the Huing Lord, 
 That giues me grace which nature wants, 
 That holds my feet from wayes abhord. 
 And in my heart good motions plants ; 
 With him I dare to bide the fielde, 
 Striue while thou wilt I cannot yeelde, 
 
 Fond fauour failes, the time will paffe. 
 All earthly pleafures haue their end. 
 We fee not that which fometime was, 
 Nor that which future times will fend. 
 You fay the truth remember this, 
 And then confefTe you ftray amiffe. 
 
 The fliorter time, the greater care. 
 Are pleafures vaine ? the leffe delight : 
 Are dangers nie ? why then beware, 
 From bafe affeftions take your flight ; 
 Thinke God a reckoning will require, 
 And fltiue to quaile this bad defire. 
 
 To fwimme in filkes and braue array, 
 Is that you thinke which women loue, 
 That leades poore Maides fo oft aftray. 
 That are not guarded from aboue. 
 But this I know, that know not all, 
 Such wicked pride will haue a fall. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 34 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 19 
 
 Cant. VIII. 
 
 Nob. 
 
 A Las the feare, alas the fall, 
 And what's the fall that you fo feare } 
 To toffe good fortunes golden ball, 
 And gaine the goale I prife fo deare : 
 I doubt left thefe your needleffe feares, 
 Will barre good hap from witleffe yeares. 
 
 Thy age experience wants I fee, 
 And lacking triall art a fraide, 
 Left venturing farre to credite me, 
 Our fecret dealing might be wraide : 
 What then doth not my mighty name, 
 Suffice to fhield thy fa6l from fhame .' 
 
 Who dares to ftirre } who dares to fpeake ? 
 
 Who dares our dealings to reproue ? 
 
 Though fome fufpeft, yet none will creake, 
 
 Or once controule thy worthy loue : 
 My might will ftand for thy defence. 
 And quit thee cleare from great offence. 
 
 Who fees our face, knowes not our fafls. 
 Though we our fport in fecret vfe. 
 Thy cheekes will not bewray thy a£ts. 
 But rather bluftiing make excufe : 
 If thou wilt yeeld, here is my faith, 
 He keepe it fecret till my death. 
 
 35 
 
20 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 To feeme as chafte, let that fuffice, 
 Although in deed thou be not fo, 
 Thus deale our women that are wife, 
 And let thy godly Doftors goe : 
 Still faine as though thou godly art, 
 It is enough, who knowes thy heart ? 
 
 Let not the idle vulgar voyce, 
 Of fained credit witch thee fo, 
 To force thee leaue this happy choyce, 
 And flying pleafure liue in woe : 
 If thou refufe, affure thy minde, 
 The like of this (halt neuer finde. 
 
 Cant. IX. 
 
 Avis A. 
 
 LEt that word Hand, let that be true, 
 I did refufe, and fo doe ftill, 
 God fliield me from your curfed crue, 
 That thus are led by beaftly will : 
 It grieues my heart that I doe finde, 
 In Noble blood fo bafe a minde. 
 
 On worldly feare you thinke I ftand. 
 
 Or fame that may my fhame refound. 
 
 No Sir, I feare his mightie hand. 
 
 That will both you and me confound : 
 His feare it is that makes me ftay, 
 My wandring fteps from wicked way. 
 
 Who 
 
 36 
 
Willoby his Aui/a. 21 
 
 Who dares, fay you, our fafls vnfolde ? 
 
 Euen he that mightie Kings can tame, 
 
 And he that Princes hath controlde. 
 
 He dares prouide a mightie ftiame. 
 What fenfe haue you for to withftand, 
 His fierie plagues, and heauie hand ? 
 
 Though Sampfon queld the Lyons rage. 
 
 Though Salomon, a mightie King, 
 
 Yet when to finne their hearts they gage. 
 
 On both confufion God doth bring : 
 How can you then his wrath auoide, 
 That you and yours be not deftroide ? 
 
 He fees our fa6ls, he viewes our deeds, 
 Although we fmne in fecret place, 
 A guilty confcience alwayes bleeds, 
 My faults will fhew vpon my face, 
 
 My cheekes will blufh when I doe fmne. 
 
 Let all men know when I beginne. 
 
 To feeme as chafte, and not to be. 
 To beare a fhew, and yet to faine 
 Is this the loue you beare to me. 
 To damne my foule in lading paine ? 
 
 If this the beft you haue to fay, 
 
 Pray giue me leaue to goe my way. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 37 
 
22 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. X. 
 
 Nob. 
 
 WEU then I fee you haue decreed, 
 And this decree muft light on mee, 
 Vnhappy Lilly loues a weede, 
 That giues no fent, that yeelds no glee : 
 Thou art the firft I euer tride, 
 Shall I at firft be thus denide ? 
 
 My hapleffe hap fell much awry, 
 
 To fixe my fancies prime delight 
 
 In haggard Hauke that mounts fo hie. 
 
 That checkes the lure and Fawkners fight. 
 But foare you hie, or flie you low, 
 Stoupe needs you muft before you goe. 
 
 Your modeft fpeech is not amiffe, 
 Your maidens blufti becomes you well. 
 Now will I fee how fweete you kiffe, 
 And fo my purpofe farther tell. 
 
 Your coy lookes and your trickes are vaine, 
 
 I will no nay, and that is plaine. 
 
 Thou muft perforce be well content. 
 
 To let me winne thee with thy will ; 
 
 Thy chiefeft friends haue giuen confent. 
 
 And therefore thinke it is not ill : 
 Abandon all thy fond delay, 
 And marke this well that I fhall fay. 
 
 My 
 
 38 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 23 
 
 My houfe, my heart, my land, my life, 
 My credite to thy care I giue ; 
 And if thou lift to be a wife, 
 In fhew of honeft fame to liue : 
 
 He fit thee one, fhall beare thy cloke. 
 
 And be a chimnie for the fmoke. 
 
 But fay the word it fhall be done, 
 And what thou lift or what thou craue. 
 What fo be Ibft, what euer wonne. 
 Shall nothing want, that thou wilt haue, 
 
 Thou fhalt haue all, what wilt thou more ? 
 
 Which neuer woman had before. 
 
 Here's forty Angels to beginne, 
 A little pledge of great good will. 
 To buy thee lace, to buy a pinne, 
 I will be carefull of thee ftill : 
 
 If youth be quailde, if I be olde, 
 
 I can fupply that with my golde. 
 
 Silke gownes and veluet fhalt thou haue. 
 With hoodes and caules, fit for thy head, 
 Of Goldfmithes worke a border braue, 
 A chaine of golde tenne double fpread : 
 And all the reft fhall answer this, 
 My purfe fhall fee that nothing milTe, 
 
 Two waiting maids attendant ftill. 
 Two feruing-men, foure geldings preft, 
 Goe where you lift, ride where you will. 
 No iealous thought fhall me moleft : 
 
 Two hundreth pounds I doe entend, 
 
 To gtue thee yearely for to fpend. 
 
 Of 
 
 39 
 
24 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 Of this I will affurance make, 
 To fome good friend whom thou wilt chufe, 
 That this in truft from me fhall take, 
 While thou doft Hue, vnto thy vfe : 
 A thoufand Markes to thee I giue, 
 And all my Jewels while I liue. 
 
 This will I doe what euer chance, 
 He (hortly fend and fetch thee hence. 
 Thy chiefeft friends I will aduance, 
 And leaue them caufe of no offence : 
 For all this fame, I onely craue, 
 But thy good will, that let me haue. 
 
 A modeft maide is loth to fay, 
 In open words fhe doth confent, 
 Till gentle force doe breake the flay. 
 Come on mine owne, and be content : 
 Poffeffe me of my loues defire, 
 And let me tafle that I require. 
 
 Cant. XI. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 HAnd off my Lord, this will not ferue. 
 Your wifdome wanders much awry, 
 From reafons rule thus farre to fwerue. 
 He neuer yeeld. He rather die. 
 Except you leaue, and fo depart. 
 This knife fhall fHcke within your heart. 
 
 Is 
 
 40 
 
Willoby his Aui/a. 25 
 
 Is this the loue your franticke fit 
 Did fo pretend in glofing fhew ? 
 Are thefe your wayes ? is this your wit 
 To tice and force poore Maidens fo ? 
 
 You ftriue in vaine by raging luft, 
 
 To gaine confent, or make me truft. 
 
 For who can truft your flattering ftile, 
 Your painted words, your braue pretence, 
 When you will ftriue by trained wile 
 To force confent to lewde offence : 
 
 Then thus to yeeld by chaunted charmes, 
 
 He rather die within your armes. 
 
 Your Golden Angels I repell, 
 Your lawleffe luft I heere defie ; 
 Thefe Angels are the poft of Hell, 
 That often lead poore soules awry : 
 
 Shame on them all ; your eyes fhall fee. 
 
 Thefe Angels haue no power of me. 
 
 Your Gownes of filke, your golden Chaines 
 Your men, your maides, your hundreth pounds 
 Are nothing elfe but diuelifh traines, 
 That fill fond eares with tickling founds, 
 
 A bladder full of trayterous wind. 
 
 And fardeft off from honeft mind. 
 
 Well, fith your meaning now is plaine, 
 And luft would giue no longer leaue, 
 To faithleffe heart to lye and faine, 
 Which might perchance in time deceiue 
 
 By Jefus Chrift I doe proteft, 
 
 rie neuer grant that you requeft. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 g 41 
 
26 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 Cant. XII. 
 
 Nob. Furens. 
 
 THou beggers brat, thou dunghill mate, 
 Thou clownifli fpawne, thou country gill 
 My loue is turnd to wreakfuU hate. 
 Go hang and keepe thy credit ftill : 
 Gad where thou lift, aright or wrong, 
 I hope to fee thee beg ere long. 
 
 Was this great offer well refus'd .' 
 Or was this proffer all too bafe ? 
 Am I fit man to be abus'de, 
 With fuch difgrace by flattering gafe ? 
 
 On thee or thine as I am man, 
 
 I will reuenge this if I can. 
 
 Thou thinkeft thy felfe a peereleffe piece 
 And peeuifti pride that doth poffeffe 
 Thy heart, perfwads that thou art wife, 
 When God doth know the'rs nothing leffe : 
 
 Twas not thy beauty that did moue 
 
 This fond effect but blinded loue. 
 
 I hope to fee fome countrie clowne, 
 
 Poffeffor of that flattering face, 
 
 When need fhall force thy pride come downe 
 
 rie laugh to fee thy foolifh cafe : 
 For thou that thinkft thy felfe fo braue. 
 Wilt take at laft fome paltrie knaue. 
 
 Thou 
 
 42 
 
Willody his Auifa. 27 
 
 Thou felfe-will gig thou doft deteft, 
 
 My faithful! loue, looke to thy fame, 
 
 If thou offend I doe proteft, 
 
 rie bring thee out to open Ihame : 
 For fith thou fain'ft thy felfe fo pure, 
 Looke to thy leapes that they be fure. 
 
 I was thy friend, but now thy foe. 
 
 Thou hadft my heart, but now my hate, 
 
 Refufmg wealth, God fend thee woe. 
 
 Repentance now will come too late. 
 That tongue that did proteft my faith 
 Shall waile thy pride, and wifli thy death. 
 
 Cant. XIII, 
 
 A VIS A. 
 
 YEa fo I thought, this is the end 
 Of wandring luft refembling loue, 
 Wa'ft loue or luft that did entend 
 Such friendleffe force, as you did moue ? 
 Though you may vaunt of happier fate 
 I am content with my eftate. 
 
 I rather chufe a quiet minde, 
 A confcience cleere from bloody fins, 
 Then fhort delights, and therein finde, 
 That gnawing worme, that neuer lins. 
 Your bitter fpeeches pleafe me more 
 Then all your wealth, then all your ftore. 
 
 43 
 
28 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 I loue to liue deuoide of crime, 
 Although I beg, although I pine, 
 Thefe fading ioyes for little time, 
 Imbrace who lift, I heere refigne : 
 
 How poore I goe, how meane I fare 
 
 If God be pleafd I doe not care, 
 
 I rather beare your raging ire, 
 Although you fweare reuengement deepe 
 Then yeeld for gaine to lewd defire, 
 That you might laugh when I ftiould weepe 
 Your luft would like but for a fpace, 
 But who could falue my foule difgrace. 
 
 Mine eares haue heard your taunting words ; 
 
 Of yeelding fooles by you betraid, 
 
 Amongft your mates at open boords, 
 
 Knowft fuch a wife ? knowft fuch a maid ? 
 Then muft you laugh then muft you winke 
 And leaue the reft for them to thinke. 
 
 Nay yet well fare the happy life. 
 
 That need not blufti at euery view. 
 
 Although I be a poore mans wife, 
 
 Yet then I'le laugh as well as you. 
 Then laugh as long as you thinke beft 
 My fa£l fhall frame you no fuch left:. 
 
 If I doe hap to leape afide, 
 
 I muft not come to you for aide, 
 
 Alas now that you be denide, 
 
 You thinke to make me fore afraide : 
 
 Nay watch your worft I doe not care. 
 
 If I offend pray doe not fpare. 
 
 You 
 
 44 
 
Wilbby his Auifa. 29 
 
 You were my friend, you were but dull, 
 The Lord is he, whom I doe loue, 
 He hath my heart, in him I truft, 
 And he doth guard me from aboue : 
 
 I weigh not death, I feare not Hell, 
 
 This is enough, and fo farewell. 
 
 The fecond temptation of Auifa, after her marriage, 
 by Royflers, young Gentlemen, and Itifly Captaines, 
 which allfhe quickly cuts off. 
 
 Cant. X 1 1 1 1. 
 
 Caveleiro. 
 
 COme lufty wench, I like thy lookes. 
 And fuch a pleafant looke I loue, , 
 
 Thine eyes are like to baited hookes, 
 That force the hungry fifli to moue : 
 Where nature granteth fuch a face, 
 I need not doubt to purchafe grace. 
 
 I doubt not but thy inward thought 
 Doth yeeld as faft as doth thine eye ; 
 A loue in mee hath fancie wrought. 
 Which worke you cannot well denie ; 
 
 From loue you cannot me refraine, 
 
 I feeke but this, loue me againe. 
 
 And 
 
 45 
 
30 Willoby Ms Auifa. 
 
 And fo thou doeft, I know it well, 
 
 I knew it by thy fide-caft glance, 
 
 Can heart from outward looke rebell ? 
 
 Which yefter night I fpide by chance. 
 Thy loue (fweet heart) ftiall not be loft 
 How deare a price foeuer it coft. 
 
 Aske what thou wilt thou knoweft my mind. 
 Appoint the place and I will come, 
 Appoint the time, and thou fhalt find. 
 Thou canft not fare fo well at home : 
 Few words fuffice, where hearts confent, 
 I hope thou knowft, and art content. 
 
 Though I a ftranger feeme as yet, 
 And feldome feene, before this day, 
 AfTure thy felfe that thou may'ft get 
 More knacks by me, then I will fay : 
 Such ftore of wealth as I will bring, 
 Shall mcike thee leape, fhall make thee fmg. 
 
 I muft be gone, vfe no delay, 
 At fixe or feuen the chance may rife, 
 Olde gamefters know their vantage play 
 And when t'is beft to caft the dice : 
 
 Leaue ope your point, take vp your man 
 And mine (hall quickly enter than. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 46 
 
Willoby his Auija. 
 
 Cant. XV. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 WHat now .' what newes "i new wars in hand. 
 More trumpets blowne of fond conceits, 
 More banners fpread of follies band ? 
 New captaines coyning new deceits ? 
 Ah woe is me ! new campes are plac't 
 Whereas I thougt all dangers paft. 
 
 O wretched foule what face haue I, 
 That cannot looke but fome mifdeeme ? 
 What fpirit doth lurke within mine eye. 
 That kindles thoughts fo much vncleane ? 
 O luckles feature neuer bleft, 
 That fow'ft the feedes of fuch vnreft ! 
 
 What wandring fits are thefe that moue, 
 Your heart inrag'd with euery glance 
 That iudge a woman ftraight in loue, 
 That welds her eye afide by chance : 
 
 If this your hope by fancy wrought. 
 
 You hope on that I neuer thought. 
 
 If nature giue me fuch a looke. 
 
 Which feemes at firft vnchaft or ill, 
 
 Yet fhall it prooue no baited hooke, 
 
 To draw your luft to wanton will : 
 My face and will doe not agree, 
 Which you in time perhaps may fee. 
 
 D 2 If 
 
 47 
 
32 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 If fmiling cheere and friendly words, 
 If pleafant talke fuch thoughts procure, 
 Yet know my heart no will affoords, 
 To fcratching Kites to call the lure : 
 If mild behauiour thus offend, 
 I will affay this fault to mend. 
 
 You plant your hope vpon the fand. 
 That build on womans words, or fmiles, 
 For when you thinke your felfe to ftand 
 In greateft grace, they proue but wiles : 
 When fixt you thinke on fureft ground, 
 Then fartheft off they will be found 
 
 Cant. XVI. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 YOu fpeake of loue, you talke of cofl, 
 Is't filthy loue your worfhip meanes ? 
 AfTure your felfe your labour's loft, 
 Beftow your coft among your queanes. 
 You left not heere, nor heere fhall find 
 Such mates as match your beaftly mind. 
 
 You mufl againe to Coleman hedge. 
 For there be fome that looke for gaine. 
 They will beflow the French mans badge 
 In lieu of all your cofl and paine, 
 But Sir, it is againfl my vfe. 
 For gaine to make my houfe a ftewes. 
 
 What 
 
 48 
 
Willoby. his Am/a. 33 
 
 What haue you feene ? what haue I done ? 
 
 That you fliould iudge my mind fo light 
 
 That I fo quickly might be wone, 
 
 Of one that came but yefter night ? 
 Of one I wift not whence he came, 
 Nor what he is, nor what's his name. 
 
 Though face doe friendly fmile on all. 
 
 Yet iudge nie not to be fo kind. 
 
 To come at euery Faulkners call, 
 
 Or wane aloft with euery wind : 
 And you that venture thus to trie, 
 Shall finde how farre you flioote awry. 
 
 And if your face might be your iudge. 
 Your wanny cheekes, your fhaggy lockes, 
 Would rather moue my mind to grudge. 
 To feare the piles, or elfe the pockes : 
 If you be mou'd to make amends. 
 Pray keepe your knacks for other friends. 
 
 You may be walking when you lift, 
 Looke ther's the doore, and ther's the way ; 
 I hope you haue your market mift, 
 Your game is loft for want of play : 
 
 The point is clofe, no chance can fall, 
 
 That enters there, or euer fliall. 
 
 D 3 Cant. 
 
 49 
 
34 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. XVU. 
 
 Caveleiro. 
 
 GOds wo : I thinke you doe but ieft, 
 You cannot thus delude my hope : 
 But yet perhaps you thinke it bell, 
 At firft to giue but Httle fcope : 
 At firft affault you muft retire, 
 And then be forc'd to yeeld defire. 
 
 You thinke, that I would iudge you bad. 
 If you ftiould yeeld at firft afTay : 
 And you may thinke me worfe then mad, 
 If one repulfe fend me away : 
 
 You thinke, you doe your credit wrong 
 
 Except you keepe your futors long. 
 
 But I that know the wonted guife, 
 Of fuch as Hue in fuch a place, 
 Old dame experience makes me wife, 
 To know your meaning by your face : 
 
 For moft of them that feeme fo chaft. 
 
 Deny at firft and take at laft. 
 
 This painted fheath may pleafe fome foole, 
 That cannot fee the ruftie knife : 
 But I haue beene too long at fchoole. 
 To thinke you of fo pure a life : 
 
 The time and place will not permit. 
 
 That you can long here fpotleffe fit. 
 
 And 
 
 SO 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 35 
 
 And therefore wench be not fo ftrange, 
 To grant me that which others haue : 
 I know that women loue to change, 
 Tis but deceit, to feeme fo graue : 
 
 I neuer haue that woman tride 
 
 By whom as yet I was denide. 
 
 Your godly zeale doth breede my truft. 
 Your anger makes me hope the more : 
 For they are often found the worft, 
 That of their confcience make fuch ftore : 
 
 It's vaine to blufh, or looke afide, 
 
 A flat repulfe I cannot bide. 
 
 Cant. XVIII. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 THou wicked wretch, what dofl: thou thinke 
 There is a God that doth behold, 
 This fmfull way, this Sodomes finke .' 
 O wretched earth that art fo bold, 
 To ieft at God, and at his word, 
 Looke for his iufl: reuenging fword. 
 
 Saint Paul commands vs not to eate. 
 
 With him that leades a wicked life, i Cor. 13. 
 
 Or fhall be found to lie in waite. 
 
 To feeke to fpoyle his neighbours wife : 
 
 Such wicked foules God doth forfake. 
 
 And dings them downe to fierie lake. Rmeins. 20. 
 
 D 4 A 
 
 SI 
 
36 
 
 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 A yong man 
 was ftricken 
 blind for 
 looking dif- 
 honeft vpon 
 a godly wo- 
 man. 
 
 The Locren- 
 fes vfe to put 
 out both the 
 eyes of the 
 adulterers, 
 The law Ju- 
 lia in Rome 
 put adulte- 
 rers to the 
 fword. 
 The Arabi- 
 ans doe the 
 like. 
 
 A braine-ficke youth was ftricken blind, 
 That fent his greedy eye to view 
 A godly wench, with godleffe mind, 
 That paine might fpring, where pleafure grew : 
 Remember friend, forget not this, 
 And fee you looke no more amiffe. 
 
 O lulia flower of thy time, 
 Where is thy law, where is thy word. 
 That did condemne the wedlocke crime, 
 To prefent death with bloudy fword .' 
 The fhining of this piercing edge, 
 Would daunt the force of filthy rage. 
 
 Though fhameleffe Callets may be found, 
 That foile themfelues in common field. 
 And can carie the Whores rebound. 
 To ftraine at firft, and after yeeld : 
 Yet here are none of Creffids kinde. 
 In whom you ftiall fuch fleeting find. 
 
 The time and place may not condemne, 
 The mind to vice that doth not fway. 
 But they that vertue doe contemne. 
 By time and place are led aftray : 
 This place doth hold one at this time, 
 That will not yeeld to bloody crime. 
 
 You thinke that others haue poffeft, 
 The place that you fo lewdly craue, 
 Wherein you plainely haue confeft. 
 Your felfe to be a iealous knaue : 
 
 The Rofe vnblufht hath yet no ftaine, 
 
 Nor euer fhall while I remaine. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 52 
 
Willoby his Atd/a. 37 
 
 Cant. XIX. 
 
 ■ Caveleiro. 
 
 ME thinkes I heare a fober Foxe, 
 Stand preaching- to the gagling geefe ; 
 And Ihewes them out a painted boxe : 
 And bids them all beware of cheefe : 
 Your painted bpxe and godly preach, 
 I fee doth hold a Foxlike reach. 
 
 Perchance you be no common card, 
 But loue the dainty Diamonds place, 
 The ten, the knaue, may be your gard 
 Yet you are onely ftill the ace : 
 
 Contented clofe in packe to lie, 
 
 But open dealing you defie. 
 
 Well, I confefle I did oiifend. 
 To rufli fo headlong to the marke ; 
 Yet giue me leaue this fault to amend. 
 And craue your pardon in the darke, 
 
 Your credits fame I will not fpill, 
 
 But come as fecret as you will. 
 
 Nay heere's my hand, my faith I giue. 
 
 My tongue my fa6l fhall not reueale, 
 
 To earthly creature while I Hue, 
 
 Becaufe you loue a fecret deale : 
 And where I come, I ftill will fay, 
 She would not yeeld, but faid me nay. 
 
 So 
 
 S3 
 
38 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 So fhall your credit greater grow, 
 By my report and pafling prayfe : 
 And they that fcant your name doe know, 
 Your fame on hie, and hie fhall rayfe : 
 So fhall you gaine that you defire, 
 By granting that which I require, 
 
 To plant a fiege, and yet depart, 
 Before the towne be yeelded quite, 
 It kils a martiall minded heart. 
 That cannot bfooke fuch high defpight : 
 Then fay you yea, or fay you no. 
 He fcale your walles, before I go. 
 
 Cant. XX. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 A Fine deuice, and well contriu'd, 
 Braue gold vpon a bitter pill. 
 No maruell well, though you haue thriu'd 
 That fo can decke, that fo can dill : 
 
 Your quaintifh quirkes can want no mate, 
 But heere I wis you come too late. 
 
 It's ill to halt before the lame. 
 Or watch the bird that cannot fleepe. 
 Your new found tricks are out of frame, 
 The Foxe will laugh when Affes weepe : 
 
 Sweare what you lift:, fay what you will, 
 
 Before you fpake, I knew your skill. 
 
 Your 
 
 54 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 39 
 
 Your fecret dealing will not hold, 
 
 To force me trie, or make me truft : 
 
 Your blind deuices are too old. 
 
 Your broken blade hath got the ruft. 
 You need not lye, but truely fay, 
 Shee would not yeeld to wanton play. 
 
 Your tongue fhall fpare to fpread my fame, 
 
 I lift not buy too deare a found. 
 
 Your greateft prayfe would breed but fhame, 
 
 Reporte of mee as you haue found : 
 Though you be loth to found retreate. 
 This mount's too flrong for you to get. 
 
 The wifeft captaine now and then, 
 
 When that he feeles his foe too ftrong. 
 
 Retires betime to faue his men. 
 
 That grow but weake, if fiege be long. 
 From this affault you may retyre. 
 You fhall not reach that you require, 
 
 I hate to feede you with delayes, 
 As others doe, that meane to yeeld. 
 You fpend in vaine your ftrong affayes. 
 To winne the towne or elfe the field : 
 
 No captaine did, nor neuer fhall. 
 
 Set ladder heere to fcale the wall. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 55 
 
49 Willoby. his A ui/a. 
 
 Cant. XXI. 
 
 Caveleiro. 
 
 HAd I knowne this, when I began, 
 you would haue vf 'd me as you fay, 
 I would haue tooke you napping than, 
 And giuen you leaue to fay me nay : 
 I litle thought to finde you fo, 
 I neuer dream'd you would fay no. 
 
 Such felfelike wench I neuer met, 
 Great caufe haue I thus hard to craue it, 
 If euer man haue had it yet, 
 I fworne haue, that I will haue it : 
 If thou didft neuer giue confent, 
 I muft perforce be then content. 
 
 If thou wilt fweare, that thou haft knowne 
 In carnall a£l no other man, 
 But onely one and he thine owne. 
 Since man and wife you firft began, 
 rie leaue my fuite, and fweare it true. 
 Thy like indeed I neuer knew. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 S6 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 41 
 
 Cant. XXII. 
 
 A VIS A, 
 
 I Told you firft what you Ihould find, 
 Although you thought I did but left, 
 And felfe affeftion made you blind, 
 To feeke the thing I moft deteft : 
 Befides his hoft, who takes the paine 
 To reckon firft, muft count againe. 
 
 Your rafh fworne oath you muft repent, 
 You muft beware of headlong vowes : 
 Excepting him whom free confent, 
 By wedlocke words hath made my fpoufe ; 
 From others yet I am as free. 
 As they this night that boren be. 
 
 w 
 
 Caveleiro. 
 
 Ell giue me then a cup of wine, 
 
 As thou art his, would thou wert mine. 
 
 A V I S a. 
 
 Aue t'ye good looke, tell them that gaue. 
 You this aduice, what fpeed you haue. 
 
 Farewell. 
 The 
 
 H 
 
 57 
 
42 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 The third thriall: wherein are exprejfed the longpaf- 
 fionate and conjlant affeElions of the clofe and wa- 
 rie fitter, which byfignes, by fighs, by letters, priuy 
 meffengers, by iewels, rings, gold, diuers gifts, and 
 by a long continued courfe of ctirtefie, at length 
 prmaileth with many both Maids and Wiues , if 
 if they be not garded wonderfully with a better fpi- 
 rite then their owne : which all are heere finely 
 daunted and mildly ouerthrowne, by the conjlant 
 anfweres, and chajl replyes of Auifa. 
 
 Cant. XXIII. 
 
 Dan. Ben. 
 
 AS flaming flakes, too clofely pent, 
 With fmothering fmoake in narrow vault, 
 Each hole doth trie, to get a vent ; 
 And force, by forces fierce aflault, 
 With ratling rage doth rumbling raue. 
 Till flame and fmoake free pafTage haue. 
 
 So I my (my deare) haue fmothered long, 
 Within my heart a fparkling flame, 
 Whofe rebell rage is growne fo ftrong, 
 That hope is pafl; to quell the fame : 
 
 Except the ftone, that flrake the fire. 
 
 With water quench this hote defire, 
 
 The 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 43 
 
 The glancing fpeare that made the wound, 
 Which rankling thus, hath bred my paine, 
 Muft pearcing Aide with frefh rebound. 
 And wound with wound recure againe ; 
 That floating eye that pearc'ft my heart, 
 Muft yeeld to falue my cureleffe fmart. 
 
 I ftriu'd, but ftriu'd againft the ftreame, 
 
 To daunt the qualmes of fond defire, 
 
 The more their courfe I did reftraine, 
 
 More ftrong and ftrong they did retire : 
 Bare neede doth force me now to runne. 
 To feeke my helpe, where hurt begunne. 
 
 Thy prefent ftate wants prefent aide ; 
 A quicke redrefle my griefe requires, 
 Let not the meanes be long delaide, 
 That yeelds vs both our hearts defire, 
 
 If you will eafe my penfiue heart, 
 
 I'le find a falue to heale your fmart. 
 
 I am no common gameling mate, 
 That lift to bowle in euery plaine, 
 But (wench) confider both our ftate, 
 The time is now for both to gaine : 
 
 From dangers great I fet you free. 
 
 If you will yeeld to comfort ma 
 
 Cant. 
 
 59 
 
44 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. XXIIII. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 YOur fiery flame, your fecret fmart, 
 That inward frets with pining griefe, 
 Your hollow fighes with heauy heart, 
 Me thinke might quickly find reliefe : 
 If once the certaine caufe were knowne, 
 From whence thefe hard effedls haue growne. 
 
 It little bootes to fhew your fore 
 To her that wants all Phyficke skill : 
 But tell it them, that haue in flore, 
 Such oyles as creeping cankers kill : 
 
 I would be glad to doe my beft, 
 
 If I had skill to giue you reft. 
 
 Take heed, let not your griefe remaine, 
 
 Till helps do faile, and hope bee paft. 
 
 For fuch as firft refuf'd fome paine, 
 
 A double paine haue felt at laft : 
 A little fparke, not quencht betime. 
 To hideous flajnes will quickly clime. 
 
 If godly forrow for your finne, 
 
 Be chiefeft caufe why you lament, 
 
 If guiltie confcience do beginne. 
 
 To draw you truely to repent : 
 A ioyfull end muft needs redound, 
 To happy griefe fo feldome found. 
 
 To 
 
 60 
 
Willoby his Auafa. 45 
 
 To ftriue all wicked lufts to quell, 
 Which often fort to dolefuU end, 
 I ioy to heare you meane fo well, 
 And what you want the Lord will fend : 
 
 But if you yeeld to wanton will, 
 
 God will depart and leaue you ftill. 
 
 Your prefent aide with fweet fupply. 
 My prefent ftate that might amend. 
 If honeft loue be meant thereby, 
 I Ihall be glad of fuch a friend : 
 
 But if you loue, as I fufpedl, 
 
 Your loue and you I both reieft. 
 
 Cant. XXV. 
 
 Dan. Ben. 
 
 WHat you fufpefl, I cannot tell. 
 What I doe meane, you may perceiue : 
 My workes fliall fhew, I wifli you well. 
 If well meant loue you lift receiue : 
 I haue beene long in fecret mind. 
 And would be ftill your fecret friend. 
 
 My loue fhould breed you no difgrace, 
 None (hould perceiue your fecret play. 
 We would obferue both time and place ; 
 That none our dealings fhould bewray : 
 
 Be it my fortune or my fault, 
 
 Loue makes me venture this affault. 
 
 E You 
 
 61 
 
46 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 You Miftreffe of my doubtfull chance, 
 
 You prince of this my fole defire, 
 
 That lulls my fancy in a trance, 
 
 The marke whereto my hopes afpire : 
 You fee the fore whence fprings my griefe, 
 You welde the fterne of my reliefe. 
 
 The graueft men of former time, 
 That liu'd with fame and happy life, 
 Haue thought it none, or petty crime, 
 To loue a friend befides their wife .• 
 Then fith my wife you cannot be, 
 As deareft friend account of me. 
 
 You talke of finne, and who doth Hue, 
 Whofe daily fteps Aide not awrie ? 
 But too precife, doth deadly grieue. 
 The heart that yeelds not yet to die : 
 When age drawes on and youth is paft. 
 Then let vs thinke of this at laft. 
 
 Cant. XXVI. 
 
 A VIS A. 
 
 O Mighty Lord, that guides this Spheare 
 Defend me by thy mighty will. 
 From iuft reproach, from ftiame and feare ; 
 Of fuch as feeke my foule to fpill, 
 
 Let not their counfell f'Lord^ preuaile, 
 To force my heart to yeeld or quaile. 
 
 How 
 
 62 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 47 
 
 How frames it with your fober lookes, 
 
 To fhrowd fuch bent of lewd conceits ? 
 
 What hope hath plac'd me in your bookes, 
 
 That files me fit, for fuch deceits ? 
 I hope that time hath made you fee, 
 No caufe that breeds thefe thoughts in me. 
 
 Your feruent loue is filthy luft, 
 And therefore leaue to talke of loue, 
 Your truth is treafon vnder truft, 
 A Kite in fhape of hurtleffe Doue : 
 
 You offer more then friendfhip would, 
 
 To giue vs braffe in ftead of gold. 
 
 Such fecret frends to open foes 
 Doe often change with euery wind. 
 Such wandring fits, where folly grows. 
 Are certaine fignes of wandring minde, 
 
 A fawning face, and faithleffe heart. 
 
 In fecret loue, breeds open fmart. 
 
 No finne to breake the wedlocke faith ? 
 
 No finne to fwim in Sodoms finke ? 
 
 O finne the feed and fting of death, 
 
 O finfuU wretch that fo doth thinke : 
 Your graueft men with all their fchooles. 
 That taught you thus, were heathen fooles. 
 
 E 2 Cant. 
 
 63 
 
48 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. XXVII. 
 
 Dan-. Ben. 
 
 FRom whence proceeds this fodaine change ? 
 From whence this quaint and coyeft fpeech ? 
 Where did you learne to looke fo ftrange ? 
 What Doftor taught you thus to preach ? 
 Into my heart it cannot finke, 
 That you doe fpeake as you doe thinke. 
 
 Your fmiling face and glauncing eye, 
 fThat promife grace and not defpight) 
 With thefe your words doe not agree, 
 That feeme to Ihun your chiefe delight : 
 But giue me leaue, I thinke it ftill, 
 Your words doe wander from your will. 
 
 Of women now the greateft part, 
 Whofe place and age doe fo require, 
 Doe chufe a friend whofe faithfuU heart, 
 May quench the flame of fecret fire : 
 
 Now if your liking be not plac'ft, 
 
 I know you will chufe one at laft. 
 
 Then chufing one, let me be he, 
 
 If fo our hidden fancies frame, 
 
 Becaufe you are the onely fhee, 
 
 That firft inrag'de my fancies flame. 
 If firft you graunt me this good will. 
 My heart is yours and fhall be ftill. 
 
 64 
 
Wilbby his Auifa. 49 
 
 I haue a frame that fell of late, 
 
 Worth fortie pounds, at yeerely rent. 
 
 That will I giue to mend your ftate, 
 
 And proue my loue is truely ment : 
 Let not my fute be flat denide. 
 And what you want fhall be fupplide, 
 
 Our long acquaintance makes me bold, 
 To fliew my griefe, to eafe my mind, 
 For new found friends, change not the old. 
 The like perhaps you fhall not finde, 
 
 Be not too rafh, take good aduife, 
 
 Your hap is good if you be wife. 
 
 Cant. XXVIII. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 MY hap is hard and ouerbad, 
 To be mifdeem'd of euery man : 
 That thinke me quickly to be had. 
 That fee me pleafant now and than : 
 Yet would I not bee much agreeu'd, 
 If you alone were thus deceiu'd, 
 
 But you alone are not deceiu'de, 
 With ticing baites of pleafant view. 
 But many others haue beleiu'd. 
 And tryde the fame as well as you. 
 
 But they repent their folly paft : 
 
 And fo will you I hope at laft. 
 
 E 3 You 
 
 k 65 
 
50 Wilbby his Aui/a. 
 
 You feeme as though you lately came, 
 From London from fome baudy cell 
 Where you haue met fome wanton dame, 
 That knowes the tricks of whores fo well : 
 
 Know you fome wiues vfe more then one ? 
 
 Goe backe to them, for here are none. 
 
 For here are none that lift to chufe, 
 A nouell change where old remaine, 
 My choyfe is paft, and I refufe, 
 While this doth laft to choofe againe : 
 While one doth Hue, I will no more, 
 Although I beg from dore to dore. 
 
 Beftow your farmes among your friends 
 Your forty pounds cannot prouoke, 
 The fetled heart whom vertue binds ; 
 To truft the traines of hidden hooke : 
 The labor's loft that you endure, 
 To gorged Hauke to caft the lure. 
 
 If luft had led me to the fpoyle, 
 And wicked will to wanton change. 
 Your betters that haue had the foyle. 
 Had cauf'd me long ere this to range. 
 But they haue left, for they did fee. 
 How farre they were miftooke of me. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 66 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 51 
 
 Cant. XXIX. 
 
 Dan. Ben. 
 
 MIftake indeede if this be true. 
 If youth can yeeld to fauours foe, 
 If wifedome fpring, where fancy grew, 
 But fure I thinke it is not fo ; 
 
 Let faithful! meaning purchafe truft, 
 That likes for loue and not for luft. 
 
 Although you fweare you will not yeelde, 
 Although my death you fliould intend, 
 Yet will I not forfake the field, 
 But ftill remaine your conftant friend : 
 
 Say what you lift, flee where you will, 
 
 I am your thrall, to faue or fpill. 
 
 You may command me out of fight, 
 As one that ihall no fauour find. 
 But though my body take this flight, 
 Yet fhall my heart remaine behind. 
 
 That fliall your guilty confcience tell. 
 
 You haue not vfde his mafter well. 
 
 His Mafters loue he fhall repeate, 
 
 And watch his turne to purchafe grace. 
 
 His fecret eye (hall lye in waite. 
 
 Where any other gaine the place : 
 When we each other cannot fee, 
 My heart fhall make you thinke of mee. 
 
 E 4 To 
 
 67 
 
52 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 To force a fancy where is none, 
 'Tis but in vaine, it will not hold. 
 But where it growes it felfe alone. 
 A little fauour makes it bold : 
 Till fancy frame your free confent, 
 I muft perforce be needs content. 
 
 Though I depart with heauy cheare. 
 As hauing loft or left my heart. 
 With one whofe loue I held too deare, 
 That now can fmile when others fmart 
 Yet let your Prifoner mercy fee, 
 Left you in time a Prisoner bee. 
 
 Cant. XXX. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 IT makes me fmile to fee the bent, 
 Of wandring minds with folly fed. 
 How fine they faine, how faire they paint, 
 To bring a louing foole to bed. 
 
 They will be dead except they haue, 
 What fo (forfooth) their fancies craue. 
 
 If you did feeke as you pretend. 
 
 Not friendleffe luft, but friendly loue, 
 
 Your tongue and fpeeches would not tend, 
 
 Such lawleffe adtions fo to moue : 
 But you can wake although you winke. 
 And fweare the thing you neuer thinke. 
 
 To 
 
 68 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 53 
 
 To wauering men that fpeake fo faire, 
 Let women neuer credit giue, 
 Although they weepe, although they fweare, 
 Such fained fliewes let none belieue, 
 
 For they that thinke their words be true, 
 
 Shall foone their hafty credit rue. 
 
 When ventring lull doth make them dare, 
 The fimple wenches to betray : 
 For prefent time they take no care. 
 What they do fweare, nor what they fay. 
 
 But hauing once obtainde the lot, 
 
 Their words and oathes are all forgot. 
 
 Let rouing Prince from Troyes facke, 
 Whofe fawning fram'd Queene Dido's fall, 
 Teach women wit, which wifdome lacke, 
 Miftruft the moft, beware of all : 
 
 When felfe-will rules where reafon fate, 
 
 Fond women oft repent too late. 
 
 The wandring paffions of the mind. 
 Where conftant vertues beare no fway. 
 Such frantike fickle changes find, 
 That reafon knowes not where to ftay. 
 
 Now boaft you then of conftant loue. 
 
 Where luft all vertue doth remoue. 
 conftant affedlions rule. That loue onely conftant that is grounded on vertue. 
 
 Catullus Turn 
 iam nulla vi- 
 ro iuranti f(B' 
 mina crcdat. 
 Nulla viri 
 fperet fer- 
 mones ejfe 
 fideles : 
 Qui dum all- 
 quid cupiens 
 animus pra- 
 geJHt ajn/ci. 
 Nil metu unt 
 iurare, nihil 
 promittere 
 parcunt, Sed 
 femul ac cu- 
 pida mentis 
 fatiata libido 
 eft, 
 
 DiiHa nihil 
 metuire nihil 
 periuria cu- 
 rant. 
 
 Combat be- 
 tweene rea- 
 fon & appe- 
 tite. No con- 
 ftant loue 
 where vn- 
 
 Dan. Ben. 
 
 69 
 
54 Wilbby his Auifa. 
 
 Dan. Ben. being fomewhat grieued with this an- 
 fwere, after long abfence, and filence, at length 
 writeth as followeth. 
 
 Cant. XXXI. 
 
 Dan Ben to Avisa. more pittie. 
 Canol Cole ^ I "Here is a cole that burnes the more 
 
 found in ma- I t,, o i j . 
 
 ny places of -*- 1 he more you calt cold water neere : 
 
 England. Like humor feedes my fecret fore. 
 
 cus'L^onicus Not quencht, but fed by cold defpaire : 
 devanahiji. The more I fecle that you difdaine, 
 
 By the loni- The fafter doth my loue remaine. 
 an Sea there 
 
 thTt Wes ^" Greece they finde a burning foyle, 
 continually That fumes in nature like the fame, 
 water Tcaft ^old water makes the hotter broyle, 
 into it, the The greater froft the greater flame : 
 flSmes!' ^° frames it with my loue neere loft, 
 
 That fiercely fries amidft the froft. 
 
 My heart inflam'd with quenchleffe heate, 
 Doth fretting fume in fecret fire, 
 Thefe hellilh torments are the meate, 
 That daily feed this vaine defire. 
 
 Thus fhall I groane in gaftly griefe. 
 
 Till you by mercy fend reliefe. 
 
 You 
 
 70 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 55 
 
 You firft inflam'd my brimftone thought, 
 
 Your fawning fauour witcht mine eye, 
 
 O luckleffe eye that thus haft brought 
 
 Thy mafters heart to ftray awry : 
 Now blame your felfe if I offend, 
 The hurt you made you muft amend. 
 
 With thefe my lines I fend a ring, 
 Left you might thinke you were forgot, 
 The poefie meanes a pretty thing. 
 That bids you Doe, but daliie not : 
 
 Do fo fweete heart, and doe not ftay, 
 
 For dangers grow from fond delay. 
 
 Fine winters frofts haue faid to quell, 
 The flaming fits of firme defire, 
 Fiue Summers Sunnes cannot expell. 
 The cold defpaire that feeds the fire : 
 
 This time I hope my trueth doth trie. 
 
 Now yeeld in time, or elfe I die. 
 
 Dudum Beatus. 
 
 Dan. Ben. 
 
 71 
 
56 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 Cant. XXXII. 
 
 AviSA to Dan. Ben. more wifedome 
 ajid feare of God. 
 
 The roote nT^He Indian men haue found a plant, 
 goodlo de- ■*- Whofe vertue mad conceits doth quell, 
 liuer them xhis roote (me thinkes) you greatly want, 
 
 thatarepof- „, . • j /y ^ n 
 
 feffed with This raging madneffe to repell, 
 
 ^Me 1^'"'^ ^^ rth&\\ fancie worke this fpite, 
 '"' Requeft of God a better fprite. 
 
 If you by folly did offend, 
 By giuing raines vnto your luft. 
 Let wifdome now thefe fancies end, 
 Sith thus vntwin'd is all your truft : 
 If wit to will, will needs refigne. 
 Why fhould your fault be counted mine. 
 
 Your Ring and letter that you fent, 
 I both returne from whence they came. 
 As one that knowes not what is ment, 
 To fend or write to me the fame : 
 You had your anfwere long before, 
 So that you need to fend no more. 
 
 Your chofen poefie feemes to (how. 
 That all my deedes but dallyings bee, 
 I neuer dallied that I know, 
 And that I thinke you partly fee : 
 I ftiewd you firft my meanings plaine, 
 The fame is yet and fliall remaine. 
 
 Some 
 
 ^2 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 57 
 
 Some fay, that time doth purge the bloud, 
 And frantike humours brings to frame : 
 I maruell time hath done no good , 
 Your long hid griefes and qualmes to tame ? 
 What fecret hope doth yet remaine, 
 That makes thefe futes reuiue againe ? 
 
 But die you will , and that in hade, 
 Except you finde fome quicke releife, 
 He warrant you, your life at laft , 
 While foolifh loue is all your griefe : 
 
 As firft I faide, fo fay I ftill, 
 
 I cannot yeeld, nor euer will. 
 
 Time pur- 
 geth chole- 
 ricke hu- 
 mors, and 
 the bloud. 
 
 Alwayes the fame 
 Auifa. 
 
 Cant. XXXIII. 
 
 The fecond Letter of D A N. B E N. to hard- 
 hearted A V I S A, Farewell. 
 
 I Finde it true that fome haue faide, 
 Its hard to hue and to be wife: 
 For wit is oft by loue betraide, 
 And brought a fleepe by fond deuife : 
 Sith faith no fauour can procure. 
 My patience muft my paine endure. 
 
 Difficile ejl 
 diligere Sf 
 fapere Vul- 
 teius. 
 
 When 
 
 73 
 
58 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 When womens wits haue drawne the plot, 
 Nonfifami. And of their fancy laid the frame, 
 caput igne 1 hen that they hold, where good or not, 
 refundas In- jjq force can moue them from the fame : 
 prima metaila So you, becaufe you firft denide, 
 J^"'- Do thinke it fliame from that to Aide. 
 
 As faithful! friendfliip mou'd my tongue. 
 
 Your fecret loue, and fauour craue, 
 
 And as I neuer did you wrong, 
 
 This laft requeft fo let me haue : 
 Let no man know what I did moue. 
 Let no man know that I did loue. 
 
 That will I fay, this is the worft. 
 
 When this is faid, then all is paft. 
 
 Thou proud A'uifa, wert thefirjl. 
 
 Thou bard A'uifa, art the laji : 
 Though thou in forrow make me dwell. 
 Yet loue will make me wifli thee well. 
 
 Write not againe, except you write. 
 This onely gentle word, / will. 
 This onely word will bring delight. 
 The reft will breede but forrow ftill. 
 
 God grant you gaine that you defire. 
 
 By keeping that which I require. 
 
 Yet will I liften now and then, 
 To fee the end my mind will craue, 
 Where you will yeeld to other men. 
 The thing that I could neuer haue. 
 But what to me .' where falfe or true. 
 Where Hue or die, for aye Adue. 
 
 Fortuna ferenda, Dan. Ben. 
 
 DY- 
 
 74 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 59 
 
 DYDIMVS H AR- 
 GON I VS. 
 
 A NGLO-GER- 
 
 MANVS. 
 Cant. XXXIIII. 
 
 Dy. Har. 
 
 IHaue to fay, yet cannot fpeake, 
 The thing that I would gladly fay ; 
 My heart is ftrong, though tongue be weake, 
 Yet will I fpeake it as I may : 
 And if I fpeake not as I ought, 
 Blame but the errors of my thought. 
 
 And if I thinke not as fhould, 
 
 Blame loue that bad me fo to thinke, 
 
 And if I fay not what I would , 
 
 T'is modeft Ihame that makes me fhrinke. 
 
 For fure their loue is very fmall. 
 
 That can at firft expreffe it all. 
 
 Forgiue my blufh, if I doe blufli, 
 You are the firft I euer tride , 
 And laft whofe confcience I will crufh, 
 If now at firft I be denide. 
 
 I muft be plaine, then giue me leaue, 
 
 I cannot flatter nor deceiue. 
 
 You 
 
 75 
 
6o Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 You know that Marchants ride for gaine , 
 As chiefe foundations of heir ftate, 
 You fee that we refufe no paine, 
 To rife betime and trauell late : 
 
 But farre from home this is the fpite , 
 We want fometimes our chiefe delight. 
 
 I am no Saint I muft confeffe, 
 
 But natur'de like to other men 
 
 My meaning you may quickly gueffe, 
 
 I loue a woman now and then 
 And yet it is my common vfe, 
 To take aduife, before I chufe. 
 
 I oft haue feene the Wefterne part, 
 And therein many a pretie elfe, 
 But found not any in my heart, 
 I like fo well as of your felfe. 
 And if you like no worfe of mee, 
 We may perhaps in time agree. 
 
 Cant. XXXV. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 WHen firft you did requeft to talke, 
 With me alone a little fpace : 
 When firft I did confent to walke, 
 With you alone within this place, 
 From this your fage and fober cheare, 
 I thought fome graue aduife to heare. 
 
 Some 
 
 1^ 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 6i 
 
 Some fay that womens faces faine, 
 A modeft fhew from wanton heart, 
 But giue me leaue, I fee itplaine, 
 That men can play a double part, 
 
 I could not dreame, that I fliould find. 
 
 In luftleffe fhew, fuch luftfuU mind. 
 
 You make as though you would not fpeake 
 As vnacquainted yet with loue, 
 As though your mind you could not breake 
 Nor how thefe fecret matters moue, 
 
 You blufh to fpeake, Alas the blufh. 
 
 Yet this is all not worth a rufh. 
 
 Such (lie conceits are out of ioynt. 
 So foule within, fo faire without. 
 Not worth in proofe a threeden point : 
 But now to put you out of doubt. 
 
 Your thought is farre deceiu'de of mee. 
 
 As you in in time fhall plainely fee. 
 
 If you had knowne my former life, 
 
 With fpotleffe fame that I haue held. 
 
 How firft a maide, and then a wife, 
 
 Thefe youthly futes I haue repeld : 
 You would (I hope) corre6l your rate. 
 That iudge me thus a commoa mate. 
 
 Whom you haue feene I doe not care, 
 Nor reck not what you did requeft, 
 I am content this flout to beare, 
 In that you fay, you like me beft : 
 
 And if you wifh that we agree, 
 
 Corre£l your wrong conceit of mee : 
 
 p" Cant, 
 
 17 
 
62 
 
 Wilbby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. XXXVI. 
 
 In Italy is a 
 certaine wa- 
 ter that fal- 
 leth into the 
 riuer Anon, of 
 colour white, 
 and at firft 
 feemes to be 
 wonderfuU 
 cold, but 
 being a 
 while in it, it 
 heateth the 
 body more 
 extreamely. 
 Leonicus 
 de varia 
 Hi/lor. 
 
 Dy. Har. 
 
 THe lymed bird by fowlers traine 
 Intrapt by view of pleafant baite, 
 Would faine vnwinde himfelfe againe, 
 But feeles too late the hid deceit. 
 So haue I found the clafping lime, 
 That will fticke fall for longer time. 
 
 There is a floud whofe riuers runne, 
 Like flreames of milke, and feemes at firft, 
 Extreamely cold, all heate to fhunne, 
 But ftay a while and quench your thirft, 
 Such vehement heate there will arife, 
 As greater heate none may deuife. 
 
 Thefe ftrange efFefls I finde inrold, 
 Within this place fince my returne, 
 My firft affe£lions were but cold, 
 But now I feele them fiercely burne. 
 The more you make fuch ftrange retire 
 The more you draw my new defire. 
 
 You thinke perchance I doe but ieft. 
 
 Or I your fecrets will bewray : 
 
 Or hauing got that I requeft. 
 
 With falfe ^neas fteale away. 
 If you fufpeft that I will range, 
 Let God forfake me, when I change. 
 
 78 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 63 
 
 I will not boaft me of my wealth, 
 You fhall no gold nor Jewels want, 
 You fee I am in perfe6l health, 
 And if you pleafe to giue your grant, 
 
 A hundred pounds fhall be your hire. 
 
 But onely doe that I require. 
 
 And heer's a Bracelet to begin, 
 
 Worth twenty Angels to be folde, 
 
 Befides the reft this fhall you win. 
 
 And other things not to be told : 
 And I will come but now and then, 
 To void fufpeft, none (hall know when. 
 
 Cant. XXXVII. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 WHy then your confcience doth declare, 
 A guilty minde that fhunnes the light, 
 A fpotleffe confcience needs not feare, 
 The tongues of men, nor yet the fight : 
 Your fecret Aides doe paffe my skill, 
 And plainely fhew your workes are ill. 
 
 Your words commend the lawleffe rite 
 Of Platoes lawes that freedome gaue, 
 That men and women for delight. 
 Might both in common freely haue, 
 Yet God doth threaten cruell death, 
 To them that breake their wedlocke faith. 
 
 F 2 
 
 The 
 
 In Plato his 
 common 
 wealth, all 
 women were 
 comon, con- 
 trary to the 
 commande- 
 ment of God. 
 Exod. 10, 14. 
 Leuc, 1 8, 20. 
 29. 
 
 79 
 
64 
 
 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Strange plea 
 fures feeme 
 fweete at the 
 beginning, 
 but their end 
 is as bitter as 
 wormwood. 
 Prou. S. 3. 3. 
 Prou. 6. 27. 
 Non tanti e- 
 mani ptenitere 
 Filtliy hea- 
 then lawes. 
 In Cyprus 
 their Maides 
 before the 
 time of their 
 marriage 
 were fet o- 
 pen to euery 
 man, to gaine 
 their dowry, 
 lujline. 
 The Babylo- 
 nians had a 
 cuftome, that 
 if any were 
 poore they 
 Ihould pro- 
 cure their 
 daughters 
 and wiues 
 to get money 
 with their 
 bodies. Hi- 
 rodot : 
 
 Formof(e pre- 
 tio capiuntur 
 auare, Imi- 
 tantur hamos 
 Dona. Ftemina 
 projlituit fefe q. 
 
 The Bee beares hony in her mouth, 
 Yet poyfoned fting in hinder part : 
 The fpring is fweet where pleafure groweth. 
 The fall of leafe brings ftormy fmart : 
 
 Vaine pleafure feemes moft fweet at firft,. 
 
 And yet their end is flill accurft. 
 
 What bofome beares hote burning coales, 
 And yet confumes not with the fame .' 
 What feet tread fire with bared foles, 
 And are not fmged with the flame ? 
 
 Then flay my friend make no fuch hafte 
 
 To buy Repentance at the laft. 
 
 I am not of the Cyprian fort, 
 Nor yet haue learnd the common vfe. 
 Of Babel Dames in filthy fport. 
 For gaine no commers to refufe : 
 
 What ftormes or troubles euer grow, 
 
 I lift not feeke my liuing fo. 
 
 Your gorgeous gifts, your golden hookes, 
 Doe moue but fooles to looke afide. 
 The wife (hall fhunne fuch crafty crookes, 
 That haue fuch falfe refemblance tride : 
 
 But men are fure that they will lift, 
 
 That are content to take a gift. 
 
 M munera donat, Faminafe vmdit qua data dona capit, Vulteius. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 80 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 65 
 
 Cant. XXXVIII. 
 
 Dy. Har. 
 
 NAy then farewell, if this bee fo, 
 If you be of the purer ftampe, 
 Gainft wind and tide I cannot row, 
 I haue no oyle to feede that lampe : 
 Be not too ra(h, denie not flat. 
 For you refufe you know not what. 
 
 But rather take a father day, 
 
 For farther trial! of my faith, 
 
 And rather make fome wife delay, 
 
 To fee and take fome farther breath : 
 He may too raftily be denide, 
 Whofe faithfull heart was neuer tride. 
 
 And though I be by lury caft. 
 Yet let me Hue a while in hope : 
 And though I bee comdemn'd at laft. 
 Yet let my fancie haue fome fcope, 
 
 And though the body flye away. 
 
 Yet let me with the fliadow play. 
 
 Will you receiue if I do fend, 
 A token of my fecret loue .' 
 And ftay vntill you fee the end, 
 Of thefe efiefls that fancie moue >. 
 
 Graunt this, and this ftiall falue my fore 
 
 Although you neuer grant me more. 
 
 F 3 And 
 
 m 81 
 
66 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 And thus at firft let this fuffice, 
 Inquire of me and take the view, 
 Of mine eftate, with good aduice, 
 And I will doe the like by you : 
 And as you like, fo frame your loue, 
 But paffe not promife till you proue. 
 
 This haue I faid to (hew my bent. 
 But no way fpoken to offend. 
 And though my loue cannot relent. 
 Yet paffed errors will I mend : 
 Keepe clofe the tenor of our talke, 
 And fay, we did for pleafure walke. 
 
 Cant. XXXIX. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 THen iugling mates doe moft deceiue. 
 And moft delude the dazeled fight 
 When vp they turne their folded fleeue, 
 With bared armes to worke their flight : 
 When fharpe-fet Foxe begins to preach, 
 Let Goflings keepe without his reach. 
 
 And will you haue me fet a day, 
 To feede your hope with vaine delayes ? 
 Well, I will doe as you doe fay, 
 And pofte you off with fainting ftayes : 
 That day fhall breake my plighted faith, 
 That drawes my laft and gafping breath. 
 
 82 
 
 If 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 If you will hope, then hope in this, 
 
 He neuer grant that you require : 
 
 If this you hope, you (hall not miffe,. 
 
 But ftiall obtaine your hopes defire, 
 If other hope you do retaine, 
 Your labor's loft, your hope's in vaine. 
 
 The childe that playes with fharpened tooles, 
 Doth hurt himfelfe for want of wit, 
 And they may well be counted fooles, 
 That wreftle neere a dangerous pit : 
 Your loofe defire doth hope for that, 
 Which I muft needs deny you flat. 
 
 Send me no tokens of your luft. 
 Such gifts I lift not to receiue, 
 Such guiles fhall neuer make me truft, 
 Such broad-laid baites cannot deceiue. 
 For they to yeeld doe then prepare, 
 That grant to take fuch profered ware. 
 
 If this be it you haue to fay. 
 
 You know my mind that cannot change, 
 
 I muft be gon I cannot ftay. 
 
 No fond delight can make me range. 
 And for a farewell this I fweare, 
 You get not that I hold fo deare. 
 
 67 
 
 The woman 
 that recei- 
 ueth gifts of 
 fuch lutors, 
 felleth her 
 felfe and her 
 llbertie. 
 
 F 4 
 
 After 
 
 83 
 
68 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 After long ahfence D. H. happening to come in on 
 a time fuddenly to her houfe , and finding her all 
 alone amongjl her Maides /pinning, /aid nothing : 
 but going home wrote thefe verfes following, 
 which he called his Dum habui , and fent them 
 vnto her. 
 
 Cant. XL. 
 
 D Y. H A R. To Avis K too conflant. 
 
 WHilft erft I had my libertie, 
 To range the woods were fancie lift, 
 The caufe of all my miferie, 
 By heedleffe hafte my way I mift : 
 Vntill I found within a plaine, 
 A Chriftal Well where Nimphes remaine. 
 
 As weary of this wild-goofe race, 
 That led askance, I know not where, 
 I chofe at length a fhadow place, 
 To take the cold and pleafant ayre ; 
 
 But from the brinke of that fame Well, 
 
 I faw my Heauen, or elfe my Hell. 
 
 I faw a bird from ioynimg groue. 
 
 That foaring came with comely grace, 
 
 The Lilly and Vermilion ftroue, 
 
 In maiden like and louely face : 
 With feemely armes in fteed of wings. 
 No clawes, but fingers fet with rings. 
 
 And 
 
 84 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 69 
 
 And in her hand fhee held a dart, 
 As being of Diana's traine, 
 
 that's the caufe of all my fmart, 
 And breeder of this endleffe paine : 
 
 The thing I fought not there I find, 
 And loft the freedome of my mind. 
 
 While on her eyes, my eyes did hang. 
 From rolling eye there fprang a glance, 
 And therewith heard a fudaine clang, 
 That ftrake me in a deadly trance : 
 
 But wak't I faw blind Cupids craft. 
 
 And in my heart the golden fhaft. 
 
 1 fued for grace but fhee denide 
 Her lofty looke fhee caft awrie. 
 And when my folly fhee efpide, 
 Shee laught to fee my miferie : 
 
 Away fhee foares and from my fight. 
 She fmiling takes her parting flight. 
 
 You are the bird, that bred the bane. 
 
 That fwelleth thus in reftleffe thought, 
 
 You are the fnare that thus hath tane. 
 
 And fences all to thraldome brought : 
 You are the iaylor that doe keepe. 
 Your friend in bonds and dungeon deepe. 
 
 Renowned chafte Penelope, 
 
 With all her words could not redriue 
 
 Her futors, till fhee fet a day. 
 
 In which fhee would them anfwere giue. 
 When threedy fpindlefuU was grown, 
 Then would fhee chufe one for her own. 
 
 They 
 
 85 
 
^o Willoby Ms Awifa. 
 
 They daily came to fee the end, 
 And euery man doth hope to be, 
 The chofen man, to be her friend : 
 But womans wiles heere men may fee, 
 Her fpill was neuer fully fpone. 
 For night vndid what day had done. 
 
 I hope the like you haue decreed, 
 That found you fpinning but of late, 
 Would God your Spill were full of threed. 
 That might relieue my wretched ftate : 
 I will forget the wrongs are part. 
 So you will chufe me at the laft. 
 
 Chufe one at length, I know you will. 
 Let tryed faith for ten yeares fpace. 
 How euer that your fpindle fill, 
 With ioy poffeffe that emptie place : 
 And if you will I doe proteft, 
 My loue fhall farre furmount the reft. 
 
 Thefe lines that hope for better fpeed. 
 
 As louing fpies are fent to fee ; 
 
 Where you haue fpunne vp all your threed. 
 
 And what good hap is left for me : 
 Let their returne, yet make him glad. 
 Whom loues defpaire, hath made fo fad. 
 
 D. H. 
 
 Cant. 
 
Willoby his Auafa. 71 
 
 A V I s A her anfwer toTlY. H A R. « finall 
 refolution. 
 
 Cant. X L 1 1. 
 
 Dy. Har. 
 
 IF I be of Diana's traine, 
 As true it is I muft confeffe 
 I maruell that you ftriue in vaine, 
 Where fruitleffe hope yeelds no redreffe 
 For they muft needs continue fad, 
 That feeke for that will not be had. 
 
 What feruile folly doth poffefTe, 
 Your bafe conceit, that can abide 
 Such piteous plaints and fuites addreffe, 
 To them that doe your fuites deride .' 
 For I can hardly thinke them wife, 
 That trie againe, repulfed thrice. 
 
 No Hellens rape, no Troyan warre, 
 My louing mate hath forc't away, 
 No lunos wrath to wander farre, 
 From louing bed can make him ftray : 
 Nor ftay at all in forraigne land, 
 But heere I haue him ftill at hand. 
 
 My 
 
 87 
 
72 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 My fweet Vliffes neuer ftayes, 
 From his defired home fo long, 
 That I fhould neede fuch rare delayes 
 To fhield me from intended wrong : 
 My chiefe deh'ghts are alwayes nie, 
 And in my bofome fweetly lie. 
 
 The fpindle that you fee me driue, 
 Hath fild the fpill fo often trend, 
 My heart is fixt, fmce that you fee, 
 My wedlocke faith to chofen friend : 
 Then leaue to fue, fmce that you fee, 
 Your hap debars your hope from mee. 
 
 I vfe not oft to make reply. 
 
 To lines that yeeld fuch wanton ftore, 
 
 Let this fuffice, that I deny. 
 
 And after this looke for no more. 
 My choyce is bound by lawfull band, 
 My oath is paft, and that fliall ftand. 
 
 Alwayes the fame 
 Aui/a. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 88 
 
Willoby hk Auifa. 
 
 11 
 
 Cant. X L 1 1. 
 
 D. H. to cJiaJl A V I S A perpetuall conjlancie. 
 
 THis is enough : now I haue done, 
 I thinke indeede you doe not faine, 
 As others haue, that haue beene wone 
 In fliorter fpace, with leffer paine, 
 And fith you will not yeeld in deed 
 To thefe my wordes, yet take good heed : 
 
 My former loue was onely luft, 
 As you indeed did truely fay. 
 And they, fuch loue that rafhly truft, 
 Do plant the plot of fwift decay : 
 
 But they whom Grace doth make fo wife, 
 
 To high renowne, will furely rife. 
 
 If you had had a waxy heart, 
 That would haue melt at hot defire, 
 Or chaffie thoughts that could haue ftart. 
 And yeeld to burne at euery fire. 
 What ere I did, or faid before, 
 I fhould haue thought you but a whore. 
 
 Though faylers loue the common Port, 
 
 As fafeft harbour where to reft, 
 
 Yet wife men feeke the ftrongeft fort. 
 
 And paper Caftles moft deteft : 
 
 Men cannot loue fuch as they know. 
 Will yeeld at fight of euery blow. 
 
 But 
 
 violata, 
 vale, vale O 
 violata, pla- 
 cebos, Inuio- 
 lata noces 
 mtnc violata 
 mihi, Vul- 
 teius. 
 
 Sie Virgo 
 dum intadla 
 manet, turn 
 chara fuis fed 
 cum ami/it 
 polluto corpore 
 jlorem. Ncc 
 pueris incun- 
 da manet, nee 
 chara puellis, 
 Catullus. 
 
 89 . 
 
74 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 But now my loue by vertue bound, 
 
 No ftormy blaftes can make it quaile, 
 
 Your conftant mind a friend hath found, 
 
 Whofe honeft loue fhall neuer faile, 
 A faithful! friend in honeft loue, 
 Whom lewde afifeftions fhall not moue. 
 
 If you this wanton fault forgiue, 
 
 No time in me ftiall euer finde 
 
 Such lewde attempts while I doe Hue, 
 
 Now that I know your conftant minde. 
 My pen doth write, my heart hath fwore. 
 My tongue fuch fpeech fhall vfe no more. 
 
 A thoufand times I loue thee more. 
 Then if I had my purpofe wonne. 
 Of common loue I make no ftore, 
 But leaue it there where I begunne. 
 
 What oddes there is, now you may proue, 
 
 Twixt wicked luft and honeft loue. 
 
 Now grant I pray this laft requeft. 
 
 That fraudleffe heart doth friendly fend. 
 
 That if my faith deferue it beft, 
 
 Accept me for your honeft friend : 
 And if I feeke your fpoyle or fhame. 
 Then raze me out and blot my name. 
 
 And if I ftiall this fauour find. 
 
 Then weare this ring, though you be loath. 
 
 As token of my fimple mind. 
 
 And perfeft band of faithfuU oath : 
 The poefie is. No friend to faith 
 That will remaine, till both our death. 
 
 Efteeme 
 
 90 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 75 
 
 Efteeme not this a painted baite, 
 Or golden ball caft to deceaue : 
 If I doe meane fuch lewd deceit, 
 Let God my foule in torments leaue : 
 
 I fay no more, but thus I end. 
 
 In honeft loue your faithfull friend. D. H. 
 
 Cant. XLIII. 
 
 A VIS A to D. H. 
 
 YOu know that I haue laid my reft, 
 From which my mind fhall neuer fwerue, 
 If all be true that you proteft. 
 Then fhall you find as you deferue : 
 All hidden truth time will bewray, 
 This is as much as I can fay. 
 
 Alway the fame 
 A V I S A. 
 
 Cant. X L 1 1 1 1. 
 
 Henrico Willobego, Itab-Hifpalenjis. 
 
 H. W. being fodenly infefted with the contagion 
 of a fantafticall fit, at the firft fight of A, pineth a- 
 while in fecret griefe, at length not able any longer 
 to indure the burning heate of fo feruent a humour, 
 bewrayeth the fecrecy of his difeafe vnto his familiar 
 
 friend 
 
 91 
 
76 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 friend W. S. who not long before had tryed the cur- 
 tefie of the like paffion, and was now newly reco- 
 uered of the like infe£tion ; yet finding his friend 
 let bloud in the fame veine, he tooke pleafure for a 
 time to fee him bleed, and in fteed of ftopping the 
 iffue, he inlargeth the wound, with the fharpe rafor 
 of a willing conceit, perfwading him that hee 
 thought it a matter very eafie to be compaffed, and 
 no doubt with paine diligence and fome coft in time 
 to bee obtained. Thus this miferable comforter 
 comforting his friend with an impoffibilitie, either 
 for that he now would fecretly laugh at his friends 
 folly, that had giuen occafion not long before vnto 
 others to laugh at his owne, or becaufe he would 
 fee whether another could play his part better then 
 himfelfe, and in viewing a far off the courfe of this 
 louing Comedy, hee determined to fee whether it 
 would fort to a happier end for this new aftor, then 
 it did for the olde player. But at length this Comedy 
 had like to haue growne a Tragedy, by the weake 
 and feeble eftate that H. W. was brought vnto, by 
 a defperate view of an impoflibility of obtaining 
 his purpofe, till Time and Neceffity, being his beft 
 Phyfitions brought him a plafter if not to heale, yet 
 in part to eafe his malady. In all which difcourfe 
 is liuely reprefented the vnruly rage of vnbridled 
 fancy, hauing the raines to roue at liberty, with 
 the diuers and fundry changes of affeftions and 
 temptations, which Will, fet loofe from Reafon, 
 can deuife, &c. 
 
 H. W. 
 
 92 
 
Willoby his Auifa. "jy 
 
 H. W. 
 
 WHat fodaine chance or change is this 
 That doth bereaue my quiet reft ? 
 What furly cloud eclipft my bliffe. 
 What fpirit doth rage within my breft ? 
 Such fainty qualmes I neuer found. 
 Till fixG. I faw this wefterne ground ; 
 
 Can change of ayre complexionschange, 
 
 And ftrike the fenfes out of fraiHE ? 
 
 Though this be true yet this is ftrange, 
 
 Sith I fo lately hither came : 
 And yet in body cannot find 
 So great a change, as in my mind. 
 
 My luftleffe limmes doe pine away, 
 Becaufe my heart is dead within. 
 All liuely heate I feele decay, 
 And deadly cold his roome doth win. 
 
 My humors all are out of frame. 
 
 I freeze amid'ft the burning flame. 
 
 I haue the feuer Hefticke right, 
 I burne within, confume without, 
 And hauing melted all my might, 
 Then followes death without all doubt : 
 O fearefull foole, that know my griefe, 
 Yet fue and feeke for no reliefe. 
 G 
 
 93 
 
78 Willoby his Auija. 
 
 I know the time, I know the place, 
 Both when and where my eye did view 
 That nouell fhape that friendly face, 
 That fo doth make my heart to rew, 
 
 happy time if (he inclyne. 
 
 If not, Woe worth thefe luckleffe eyne. 
 
 I loue the feat where fhe did fit, 
 I kiffe the graffe, where fhe did tread. 
 Me thinkes I fee that face as yet. 
 And eye, that all thefe turmoyles bred : 
 
 1 enuy that this feat, this ground, 
 Such friendly grace and fauour found. 
 
 I dream't of late, God grant that dreame 
 Portend my good, that (hee did meete 
 Me in this greene by yonder ftreame. 
 And fmiling did me friendly greete : 
 
 Where wandring dreames be iuft or wrong, 
 
 I mind to trie ere it be long. 
 
 But yonder comes my faithfull frend. 
 That like affaults hath often tryde. 
 On his aduice I will depend. 
 Where I fhall winne or be denyde. 
 And looke what counfell he fhall giue. 
 That will I doe, where dye or Hue. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 94 
 
Willoby his Aziifa. 79 
 
 Cant. XLV. 
 
 W. S. 
 
 WEll met, friend Harry, what's the caufe 
 You looke fo pale with Lenten cheekes ? 
 Your wanny face and fharpened nofe 
 Shew plaine, your mind fome thing miflikes, 
 If you will tell me what it is, 
 He helpe to mend what is amiffe. 
 
 What is fhe, man, that workes thy woe, 
 And thus thy tickling fancy moue ? 
 Thy drowfie eyes, and fighes doe fhow, 
 This new difeafe proceeds of loue, 
 
 Tell what fhe is that witch't thee fo, 
 
 I fweare it fhall no farder go. 
 
 A heauy burden wearieth one. 
 
 Which being parted then in twaine, 
 
 Seemes very light, or rather none. 
 
 And boren well with little paine : 
 
 The fmothered flame too clofely pent, 
 Barnes more extreame for want of vent. 
 
 So forrowes (hrynde in fecret breft. 
 Attaint the heart with hotter rage. 
 Then griefes that are to friends expreft, 
 Whofe comfort may fome part affwage : 
 
 If I a friend whofe faith is tryde. 
 
 Let this requeft not be denyde. 
 
 G 2 Excefliue 
 
 95 
 
8o Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Exceffiue griefes good counfells want, 
 And cloud the fence from fharpe conceits. 
 No reafon rules where forrowes plant, 
 And folly feedes where fury frets. 
 Tell what fhe is, and you fhall fee. 
 What hope and helpe fhall come from mee. 
 
 Cant. XLVI. 
 
 H. W. 
 
 SEeft yonder houfe, where hangs the badge 
 Of Englands Saint, when Captaines cry 
 Viftorious land, to conquering rage, 
 Loe, there my hopeleffe helpe doth ly : 
 And there that friendly foe doth dwell, 
 That makes my heart thus rage and fwell. 
 
 Cant. XLVII. 
 
 w. s. 
 
 WEll, fay no more : I know thy griefe, 
 And face from whence thefe flames arife, 
 It is not hard to find reliefe. 
 If thou wilt follow good aduife : 
 She is no Saint, She is no Nunne, 
 I thinke in time fhe may be wonne. 
 
 At 
 
 96 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 8i 
 
 At firft repulfe you muft not faint. 
 
 Nor flye the field though (he deny 
 
 You twice or thrice, yet manly bent, 
 
 Againe you muft, and ftill reply : 
 When time permits you not to talke, 
 Then let your pen and fingers walke. 
 
 Apply her ftill with diuers things, 
 
 (For gifts the wifeft will deceaue) 
 
 Sometimes with gold, fometimes with ringes, 
 
 No time nor fit occafion leaue, 
 Though coy at firft flie feeme and wilde, 
 Thefe toyes in time will make her yeelde. 
 
 Looke what fhee likes, that you muft loue, 
 And what ftie hates you muft deteft, 
 Where good or bad you muft approue. 
 The words and workes that pleafe her beft : 
 
 If ftiee be godly, you muft fweare, 
 
 That to offend you ftand in feare. 
 
 You muft commend her louing face. 
 
 For women ioy in beauties prayfe, 
 
 You muft admire her fober grace. 
 
 Her wifdome and her vertuous wayes. 
 Say 'twas her wit and modeft fhow, 
 That made you like and loue her fo. 
 
 You muft be fecret, conftant, free, 
 Your filent fighes and trickling teares. 
 Let her in fecret often fee, 
 Then wring her hand as one that feares 
 
 To fpeake, then wifti fhe were your wife. 
 
 And laft defire her faue your life. 
 
 G 3 When 
 
 Ars Vetera- 
 toria. 
 
 Munera (cre- 
 de mihi) pla- 
 cant hominef- 
 que Deofque. 
 
 Wicked wiles 
 to deceiue 
 witles wo- 
 men. 
 
 97 
 
82 
 
 Willoby his Aui/q.. 
 
 When flie doth laugh, you muft be glad, 
 And watch occafion, time, and place ; 
 When ftie doth frowne, you muft be fad, 
 Let fighes and fobs requeft her grace : 
 Sweare that your loue is truely ment, 
 So flie in time muft needs relent. 
 
 Cant. XLVIII. 
 
 To defpaire 
 of good fuc- 
 ceffe in the 
 beginning of 
 any aftion 
 is alwayes a 
 fecret and 
 moft certaine 
 forerunner 
 of ill fuc- 
 ceffe that 
 indeed doth 
 often follow. 
 
 Hen. Will. 
 
 THe whole to ficke good counfell giue, 
 Which they themfelues cannot perfbrme, 
 Your words doe promife fweete releiue, 
 To faue my fhip from drowning ftorme : 
 That hope is paft, and health is fpent, 
 For why my mind is Mal-content 
 
 The flowring hearbs, the pleafant fpring, 
 That decks the fields with vernant hew, 
 The harmeleffe birds that fweetly fing. 
 My hidden griefes doe ftill renew : 
 
 The ioyes that others long to fee, 
 
 Is it that moft tormenteth me. 
 
 I greatly doubt though March be paft ; 
 Where I fhall fee the wiflied May, 
 That can recure that balefuU blaft, 
 Whofe cold defpaire wrought my decay : 
 My hopeleffe clouds, that neuer cleare, 
 Prefage great forrow very neare. 
 
 98 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 I mirth did once, and muficke loue, 
 Which both as now I greatly hate : 
 What vncoth fpirit my heart doth moue, 
 To loth the thing I lou'd fo late ? 
 My greateft eafe in deepeft mone, 
 Is when I walke my felfe alone. 
 
 Where thinking on my hopeleffe hap. 
 
 My trickling teares like riuers flow. 
 
 Yet fancie luls me in her lap, 
 
 And tels me life from death fhall grow : 
 Thus flattering hope makes me belieue, 
 My griefe in time fliall feele relieue. 
 
 Good fortune helps the ventring wight, 
 That hard attempts dare vndertake : 
 But they that fliun the doubtfull fight. 
 As cowards drudges doth forfake : 
 Come what there will I meane to trie. 
 Where winne or lofe, I can but die. 
 
 ^Z 
 
 Audaces for- 
 tuna iuuat, 
 timidofque 
 repellit. 
 
 Cant. XLIX. 
 
 H. Will, the firfl: affault. 
 
 PArdon (fweete wench) my fancies fault. 
 If I offend to fhew my fmart. 
 Your face hath made fuch fierce affault. 
 And battered fo my fenceleffe heart. 
 That of my foe my life to faue. 
 For grace I am conflraind to craue. 
 
 G4 
 
 The 
 
 99 
 
84 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 The raging Lyon neuer rends, 
 The yeelding prey, that proftrate lyes, 
 Nor valiant Captaine euer bends, 
 His force againft furrendring cryes : 
 Heere I furrender roonae and right, 
 And yeeld the fort at Captaines fight. 
 
 You are the chiefetaine, that haue laid. 
 This heauie fiege to ftrengthleffe fort. 
 And fancie that my will betraid, 
 Hath lent defpaire his ftrongeft port : 
 Your glancing eyes as Canon fhot, 
 Haue pearc'ft my heart and freedome got. 
 
 When firft I faw that friendly face. 
 Though neuer feene before that day, 
 That wit, that talke, that fober grace. 
 In fecret heart thus did I fay : 
 God profper this, for this is fhe. 
 That ioy or woe muft bring to me. 
 
 A thoufand features I haue feene, 
 For trauellers change and choyfe ftiall fee. 
 In France, in Flanders, and in Spaine, 
 Yet none nor none cold conquer me, 
 Till now I faw this face of thine. 
 That makes my wittes are none of mine. 
 
 I often faid yet there is one. 
 But where or what I could not tell, 
 Whofe fight my fence would ouercome, 
 I feard it ftill, I knew it well : 
 And now I know you are the flie. 
 That was ordain'd to vanquifh me. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 100 
 
VVilloby his Auifa. 
 
 85 
 
 Cant. L. 
 
 Avis A. 
 
 WHat fong is this that you doe fing 
 What tale is this that you doe tell ? 
 What newes is this that you doe bring. 
 Or what you meane I know not well .' 
 If you will fpeake, pray fpeake it plaine, 
 Left elfe perhaps you lofe your paine. 
 
 My mind furpriz'd with houfhold cares, 
 Tends not darke riddles to vntwine, 
 My ftate furcharg'd with great affaires, 
 To idle talke can lend no time : 
 For if your fpeeches tend to loue, 
 Your tongue in vaine fuch fuites will moue. 
 
 In greeneft graffe the winding fnake, 
 With poyfoned fting is fooneft found, 
 A cowards tongue makes greateft cracke : 
 The emptieft caske yeelds greateft found. 
 To hidden hurt, the bird to bring, 
 The fowler doth moft fweetly fing. 
 
 If wandring rages haue poffeft 
 Your rouing mind at randome bent, 
 If idle qualmes from too much reft, 
 Fond fancies to your luft haue fent : 
 Cut off the caufe that breeds your fmart. 
 Then will your fickneffe foone depart, 
 
 Idlenes the 
 mother of al 
 foohfh wan- 
 tonneffe. 
 Dauid being 
 idle fell to 
 ftrange luft. 
 Quicritur 
 jEgiJtus qua 
 re fit fatHus 
 Adulter? 
 Jn promptu 
 caii/ii ejl, De- 
 fidiofus eral. 
 
 The 
 
 lOI 
 
86 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Noblemen, The reftleffe mind that reafons wants, 
 Ind'c^p™ Is like the fhip that lacks a fterne, 
 taines by The heart befet with follies plants, 
 to alTkinde -A-t wifedomes lore repines to learne : 
 of vices. Some feeke and find what fancie lift. 
 
 But after wilh that they had mift. 
 
 Who loues to tread vnknowen pathes, 
 Doth often wander from his way. 
 Who longs to laue in braueft bathes. 
 Doth wafh by night and wafte by day, 
 Take heed betime, beware the price, 
 Of wicked luft if you be wife. 
 
 Cant. LI. 
 
 H.W. 
 
 VNwonted liking breeds my loue. 
 And loue the well fpring of my griefe, 
 This fancy fixt none can remoue, 
 None fend redreffe, none giue reliefe, 
 But onely you whofe onely fight, 
 Hath forc'd me to this pining plight. 
 
 Loue oft doth fpring from due defert : 
 
 As louing caufe of true effeft. 
 
 But mine proceeds from wounded heart, 
 
 As fcholler to a nouell fe6l : 
 
 I beare that liking few haue bore, 
 I loue that neuer lou'd before. 
 
 102 
 
Wilbby his Auifa. 87 
 
 I loue though doubtful! of fucceffe, 
 
 As blind men grope to try the way : 
 
 Yet ftill I loue becaufe I geffe, 
 
 You loue for loue cannnot deny : 
 Except you fpring of fauage kind, 
 Whom nor deferts nor loue can blind, 
 
 Of all the graces that excell, 
 
 And vertues that are chiefly beft, 
 
 A conftant loue doth beare the bell, 
 
 And makes his owner euer bleft 
 
 How blame you then the faithfull loiie, 
 That hath his prayfe from God aboue ? 
 
 Can you withfland what fates ordaine ? 
 Can you reproue dame Natures frame ? 
 Where natures ioyne, fhall will difclaime ? 
 Acquit my loue : beare they the blame 
 
 That fnuffe at faith, and looke fo coy. 
 
 And count true loue but for a toy. 
 
 If fortune fay it fhall be fo. 
 Then though you kicke, yet Ihall you yeeld : 
 Say what you lift, you cannot goe, 
 Vnconquered thus from Cupids field : 
 
 That loue, that none could euer haue, 
 
 I giue to you, and yours I craue. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 103 
 
88 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. L 1 1. 
 
 A VIS A. 
 
 WEll you are bent, I fee, to trie 
 The vtmoft lift of follies race, 
 Your fancy hath no power to flie. 
 The luring baite of flattering grace : 
 The fifh that leapes and neuer lookes, 
 Finds death vnwares in fecret hookes. 
 
 You fay you loue, yet (hew no caufe 
 
 Of this your loue or rather luft, 
 
 Or whence this new affeftion growes : 
 
 Which though vntride, yet we muft truft : 
 Drie reedes that quickly yeeld to burne, 
 Soone out to flameleife cinders turne. 
 
 Such ranging loue in wrangling mates, 
 
 Is quickly found and fooner loft ; 
 
 Such deepe deceit in all eftates. 
 
 That fpares no care, no paine, nor coft, 
 With flattering tongues and golden gifts, 
 To driue poore women to their fhifts. 
 
 Examine well, and you fliall fee. 
 
 Your truthlefle treafon termed loue : 
 
 What caufe haue you to fancy me 
 
 That neither yet had time to proue 
 What I haue beene, nor what I am, 
 Where worthy loue, or rather ftiame ? 
 
 This 
 
 104 
 
Willoby his Aui/a. 89 
 
 This loue that you to ftrangers beare, 
 
 Is like to headftrong horfe and mule ; 
 
 That full fed neighs on euery Mare, 
 
 Whofe luft outleapes the lawfuU rule : 
 For here is feene your conftant loue, 
 Whom ftrange afpefls fo quickly moue. 
 
 Befides you know, I am a wife, 
 
 Not free but bound by plighted oath : 
 
 Can loue remaine, where filthy life 
 
 Hath ftaind the foile, where vertue gro'th ? 
 
 Can loue indure, where faith is fled ? 
 
 Can Rofes fpring whofe roote is dead ? 
 
 True loue is conftant in her choyfe, 
 But if I yeeld to chufe againe, 
 Then may you fay with open voyce. 
 This is her vfe, this is her veine : 
 
 She yeelds to all ; how can you than, 
 
 Loue her that yeelds to euery man ? 
 
 Cant. L 1 1 1. 
 
 H.W. 
 
 IF feare and forrowjlharpe the wit. 
 And tip the tongue~with fweeter grace. 
 Then will and ftile muitfinely fit, 
 To paint my griefe and waile my caufe : 
 Sith my true loue is counted luft. 
 And hope is rak't in fpitefuU duft. 
 
 The 
 
 105 
 
9° Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 The caufe that made me loue fo foone, 
 And feeds my mind with inward fmart, 
 Springs not from ftars, nor yet the Moone, 
 But clofely lies in fecret heart : 
 And if you aske I cannot tell, 
 Nor why, nor how this hap befell. 
 
 If birth or beautie could haue wrought, 
 In luftleffe heart this loues effeft. 
 Some fairer farre my loue haue fought, 
 Whofe louing lookes I did reieft. 
 If now I yeeld without affault. 
 Count this my fortune or my fault. 
 
 You are a wife, and you haue fwore, 
 You will be true, yet what of this .' 
 Did neuer wife play falfe before, 
 Nor for her pleafure ftrlke amiffe .' 
 Will you alone be conftant ftill. 
 When none are chafte, nor euer will } 
 
 A man or woman firft may chufe. 
 The loue that they may after loth. 
 Who can deny but fuch may vfe, 
 A fecond choyfe to pleafure both } 
 No fault to change the old for new. 
 So to the fecond they be true. 
 
 Your husband is a worthleffe thing, 
 That no way can content your mind, 
 That no way can that pleafure bring, 
 Your flowring yeeres defires to find. 
 This I will count my chiefeft blifle, 
 If I obtaine, that others miffe. 
 
 1 06 
 
 Ther's 
 
Wilkby his Auifa. 91 
 
 There's nothing gotten to be coy, 
 The purer ftampe you muft deteft, 
 Now is your time of greateft ioy, 
 Then loue the friend that loues you beft : 
 
 This I will count my chiefeft bliffe, 
 
 If I obtaine that others miffe. 
 
 Cant. LIIII. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 THat others miffe you would obtaine, 
 And want of this doth make you fad, 
 I forrow that you take fuch paine, 
 To feeke for that will not be had ; 
 Your filed skill the power doth want. 
 Within this plot fuch trees to plant. 
 
 Though fome there be that haue done ill, 
 And for their fancie broke their faith : 
 Yet doe not thinke that others will, 
 That feare the fhame more then the death : 
 A fpotleffe name is more to me. 
 Then wealth, then friends, then life can be. 
 
 Are all vnconftant, all vnfound ? 
 
 Will none performe their fworne vow } 
 
 Yet fhall you fay, that you haue found, 
 
 A chaft and conftant wife I trow : 
 And you fhall fee, when all is done. 
 Where all will yeeld, and all be wonne. 
 
 Though 
 
 107 
 
92 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 Though you haue beene at common fchoole 
 And entred plants in common place : 
 Yet you will proue your felfe a foole, 
 To iudge all women void of grace : 
 I doubt not but you will be brought, 
 Soone to repent this wicked thought. 
 
 Your fecond change let them allow, 
 That lift miflike their primer choyce ; 
 I lou'd him firft, I loue him now, 
 To whom I gaue my yeelding voyce : 
 My faith and loue I will not giue. 
 To mortall man, while he doth liue. 
 
 What loue is this that bids me hate 
 The man whom nature bids me loue ? 
 What loue is this that fets debate, 
 Twixt man wife ? but here I proue. 
 
 Though fmothed words feeme very kind, 
 Yet all proceed from diuellifli mind. 
 
 Cant. LV. 
 
 H. W. 
 
 FRom diuelifli mind .' well wanton well 
 You thinke your ftrength is very fure 
 You thinke all women to excell, 
 And all temptations to indure. 
 
 Thefe glorious brags fhew but your pride. 
 For all will yeeld, if they be tride. 
 
 You 
 
 1 08 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 93 
 
 You are I hope, as others be, 
 A woman made of flefh and bloud, 
 Amongft them all will you goe free ? 
 When all are ill, will you be good ? 
 
 Affure your felfe, I doe not falne, 
 
 Requite my loue with loue againe. 
 
 Let me be hang'd if you be fuch, 
 As you pretend in outward fhow, 
 Yet I commend your wifdome much, 
 Which mou'd me firft to loue you fo : 
 
 Where men no outwards fhewes dete6l ; 
 
 Sufpitious minds can nought fufpeft. 
 
 But to the matter : tell me true, 
 Where you your fancie can incline, 
 To yeeld your loue for which I fue, 
 As fortune hath intangled mine : 
 
 For well I know it's nothing good ; 
 
 To ftriue againft the raging flood. 
 
 What you miflike, I will amend, 
 If yeares I want, well I will ftay ; 
 My goods and life heere I will fpend, 
 And helpe you ftill in what I may ; 
 
 For though I feeme a headlong youth, 
 
 Let time be triall of my truth. 
 
 Your name by me fhall not be crackt, 
 But let this tongue from out my iawes, 
 Be rent, and bones to peeces rackt, 
 If I your fecrets doe difclofe : 
 
 Take good aduifement what you fay, 
 
 This is my good or difmall day. 
 
 H Cant. 
 
 109 
 
94 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. LVI. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 YEs, fo I will, you may be bold, 
 Nor will I vfe fuch ftrange delayes, 
 But that you fhall be quickly told, 
 How you fhall frame your wandrimg wayes, 
 If you will follow mine aduife, 
 Doubt not but you fhall foone be wife. 
 
 To loue excepting honeft loue, 
 
 I cannot yeeld affure your mind, 
 
 Then leaue your fruitleffe fuit to moue, 
 
 Leafl like to Syjiphus you find. 
 
 With endleffe labour, gaineleffe paine, 
 To role the flone that turnes againe. 
 
 You want no yeares, but rather wit, 
 And due forecafl in that you feeke. 
 To make your choyce that befl may fit. 
 And this is mofl that I miflike. 
 
 If you be free. Hue where you lifl:. 
 
 But (till beware of. Had I wift. 
 
 Serue God and call to him for grace, 
 
 That he may ftay your (lippery Aides, 
 
 From treading out that finfull trace. 
 
 That leades where endleffe forrow bides : 
 Thus fhall you wifely guide your feet : 
 Though youth and wifdome feldome meet. 
 
 And 
 
 no 
 
Willoby his Aui/a. 95 
 
 And if you find, you haue no gift, 
 To Hue a chafte and matchleffe life. 
 Yet feare to vfe vnlawfuU Ihift, 
 But marry with fome honeft wife, 
 
 With whom you may contented liue. 
 
 And wandring mind from folly driue. 
 
 Flie prefent pleafure that doth bring, Puggiqud 
 
 T^ r • r ■ J ■ r placer pre/en- 
 
 t-nfumg forrow pame and gnefe. to che H da 
 
 Of death beware the poys'ned fting, dolor future 
 
 That hatcheth horrors fauce reliefe : 
 
 Take this of me and in the end, 
 
 I fhall be thought your chiefeft friend. 
 
 Cant. LVII. 
 
 Hen. Will. 
 
 IF then the wel-fpring of my ioy, 
 A floud of woe in fine become, 
 If loue ingender loues annoy. 
 Then farewell life, my glaffe is runne : 
 If you thus conftant ftill remaine. 
 Then muft I die, or liue in paine. 
 
 Thrice happy they whofe ioyned hearts, 
 Vnited wills haue linkt in one, 
 Whofe eyes difcerne the due deferts. 
 The griping griefe, and grieuous grone, 
 
 That faith doth breed in fetled mind. 
 
 As fancies are by fates inclinde. 
 
 H 2 And 
 
 III 
 
96 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 And (hall I role the reftleffe ftone ? 
 
 And muft I proue the endleffe paine ? 
 
 In cureleffe care (hall I alone, 
 
 Confume with griefe that yeelds no gaine ? 
 If fo ; I curfe thefe eyes of mine, 
 That firft beheld that face of thine. 
 
 Your will muft with my woe difpence, 
 Your face the founder of my fmart, 
 That pleafant looke fram'd this offence, 
 Thefe thrilling gripes, that gall my heart, 
 Sith you this wound and hurt did giue, 
 You muft confent to yeeld relieue. 
 
 How can I ceafe, while fancie guides 
 The reftleffe raines of my defire ? 
 Can reafon rule, where folly bides ? 
 Can wit inthrald to will retire ? 
 
 I little thought, I (hould haue mift, 
 
 I neuer feard of, Had I wilt 
 
 Let old men pray, let fetled heads 
 Inthrall their necks to wedlocke band, 
 Shrewd golden gyues, who euer weds 
 With pleafure paine (hall take in hand : 
 But I will be your faithfuU friend. 
 If health by hope you yeeld to fend. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 112 
 
Wilbby his Auifa. 97 
 
 Cant. LVIII. 
 
 AVISA. 
 
 WHat filthy folly, raging luft, 
 What beaftly blindnes fancie breeds } 
 As though the Lord had not accurft, 
 With vengeance due the finfull deeds ? 
 
 Though vaine led youth with pleafure fwell, 
 Yet marke thefe words that I fliall tell. 
 
 Who fo with filthy pleafure burnes, 
 
 His finfull flefli with fiery flakes, Gen. 38. 24. 
 
 Muft be confum'd, whofe foule returnes, ^r^stam"?" 
 
 To endlefle paine in burning lakes. 
 
 You feeme by this to wifh me well, 
 
 To teach me tread the path to hell. 
 
 Call you this (loue) that bringeth finne. 
 And fowes the feeds of heauy cheare } 
 If this be loue I pray begin, 
 To hate the thing you loue fo deere : 
 
 I loue no loue of fuch a rate, 
 
 Nor fancie that which God doth hate. 
 
 But what faith he that long hath tride, 
 Of harlots all the wanton fleights, 
 Beware leaft that your heart be tide, 
 To fond affefts by wanton fights : 
 
 Their wandring eyes, and wanton lookes. 
 
 Catch fooles as fifli, with painted hookes. 
 
 H 3 Their 
 
 113 
 
98 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Their lips with oyle and hony flow, 
 Their tongues are fraught with flattering guile, 
 Amidfl: their ioyes great forrowes grow. 
 For pleafures flowrifh but a while. 
 Their feet to death, their fteps to hell. 
 Do fwiftly Aide, that thus doe mell. 
 
 Then flie this dead and dreadfull loue, 
 
 This figne of Gods reuenging ire ; 
 
 Let loue of God fuch lufl; remoue. 
 
 And quench the flames of foule defire : 
 If you will count me for your friend, 
 You muft both workes and words amend. 
 
 Cant. LIX. 
 
 With this bitter reply <?/■ Auifa, H. W. being fomewhat 
 daunted yet not altogether without hope, went 
 home to his houfe, and there fecretly in a melanco- 
 likepajjion wrote thefe verfes following. 
 
 H. W. to A V I S A my friendly foe. 
 
 THe bufie gnat about the candle, 
 houering ftill doth flie. 
 The flimie fifli about the baite, 
 
 ftill wauering doth lie, 
 The fearefuU Moufe about the trap, 
 
 doth often trie his ftrength, (length 
 
 Vntill both gnat and fifli and moufe, be taken at the 
 Euen fo vnhappy I, doe like my greateft baine, 
 Vnles you do with fpeed, releafe my mortal paine. 
 
 The 
 
 114 
 
Willoby his Aui/a. 99 
 
 The light-foot Hart defires the water brooke, 
 
 The dog moft ficke the greeneft graffe doth craue. 
 
 The wounded wight for Surgeon ftill doth looke. 
 
 Vntil both hart & dog, & wight their medicine haue 
 But I with griefe th'vnhappieft of them all, 
 Doe ftill delight to be mine enemies thrall. 
 
 Mine enemy I fay, though yet my fweeteft friend, 
 If of my forrows I may fee fome fpeedy holfom end. 
 
 FINIS. Chi la dura, la Vince. 
 
 Cant. L X , 
 
 A V I s A her reply to H. W. 
 
 THe bufie gnat for want of wit, 
 Doth findge his wings in burning flame, 
 The fiOi with baite will headlong flit, 
 Till flie be choaked with the fame. 
 So you with gnat and fifh will play, 
 Till flame and food, worke your decay. 
 
 The heedleffe Moufe : that tries the trap, 
 
 In hafte to reach her hearts deflre. 
 
 Doth quickly find fuch quaint mifliap. 
 
 That barres her ftrength from free retire. 
 So you will neuer ceafe to craue. 
 Till you haue loft that now you haue. 
 
 H4 The 
 
 IIS 
 
lOO Wilhby his Aim/a. 
 
 The Hart, the dogge, the wounded wight, 
 For water, graffe, and Surgeon call, 
 Their griefes and cure are all but light. 
 But your conceit furpaft them all : 
 
 Except you change your wanton mind, 
 You fliall no eafe, nor comfort find. 
 
 Alwayes the fame 
 
 Auifa. 
 
 Cant. LXI. 
 
 Wi. profecuteth his fuite. 
 
 Will not your lofty ftomacke ftoope > 
 Will not this felfe conceit come downe 
 As haggard louing mirthleffe coupe. 
 At friendly lure doth checke and frowne ? 
 Blame not in this the Faulkners skill, 
 But blame the Hawkes vnbridled will. 
 
 Your fharpe replyes, your frowning cheare^ 
 To abfent lines, and prefent view. 
 Doth aye redouble trembling feare, 
 And griping griefes do ftill renew, 
 Your face to me my fole releife, 
 My fight to you, your onely gn'efe. 
 
 O 
 
 ii6 
 
Willoby his Auifa. loi 
 
 O luckleffe wretch, what hap had I, 
 
 To plant my loue in fuch a foyle ? 
 
 What furie makes me thus relie, 
 
 On her that feekes my vtter fpoyle ? 
 O Gods of loue what figne is this, 
 That in the firft I firft fliould miffe ? 
 
 And can you thus increafe my woe. 
 
 And will you thus prolong my paine ? 
 
 Canft kill the heart that loues thee fo, 
 
 Canft quit my loue with foule difdaine ? 
 And if thou canft, wo worth the place, 
 Where firft I faw that flattering face. 
 
 And (hall my folly proue it true. 
 
 That hafty pleafure doubleth paine, 
 
 Shall griefe rebound where ioy once grew. 
 
 Of faithfull heart is this the gaine ? 
 Me thinkes for all your graue aduice, 
 (Forgiue my thought) you are not wife. 
 
 Would God I could reftraine my loue, 
 Sith you to loue me cannot yeeld. 
 But I alas cannot remoue. 
 My fancie though I die in field ; 
 
 My life doth on your loue depend, 
 
 My loue and life at once muft end. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 117 
 
I02 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. LXII. 
 
 Avis A. 
 
 WHat witleffe errors doe poffeffe, 
 The wretched minds of louing fooles 
 That breathleffe runne to fuch diftreffe, 
 That liuely heat fond forrow cooles ? 
 They recke not where they fland or fall, 
 Deny them loue, take life and all. 
 
 It feemes a death to change their mind, 
 Or alter once their foolifli will. 
 Such odde conceits they feeke to find ; 
 As may their childilh fancies fill, 
 
 It makes me fmile thus now and then. 
 
 To fee the guife of foolifh men. 
 
 I cannot ftoupe to wandring lure ? 
 My mind is one and ftill the fame. 
 While breath, while life, while dayes indure, 
 I will not yeeld to worke my fhame 1 
 
 Then if you ftriue or ftirre in vaine. 
 
 Blame but the fruits of idle brain. 
 
 If I doe fometimes looke awry. 
 As loth to fee your blubbered face. 
 As loth to heare a yong man cry, 
 Correft for fhame this childifli race, 
 
 And though you weep and waile to me. 
 
 Yet let not all thefe follies fee. 
 
 Good 
 
 Ii8 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 103 
 
 Good Harry leaue thefe raging toyes, 
 
 That thus from reftleffe fancie flow, 
 
 Vnfit for men, not meet for boyes. 
 
 And let's a while talke wifely now ; 
 If that you loue me as you fay, 
 Then ceafe fuch madneffe to bewtay. 
 
 If honefl loue could breed content, 
 And frame a liking to your will, 
 I would not fticke to giue confent, 
 To like you fo, and loue you Itill ; 
 
 But while lufl: leades your loue awry, 
 
 Affure your felfe I will denie. 
 
 Cant. LXIII. 
 
 Hen. Will. 
 
 ANd is it lufl: that welds my loue ? 
 Or is it but your fond furmife ? 
 Will you condemne before you proue .' 
 How can I thinke you to be wife ? 
 O faithfull heart, yet thrice accurft. 
 That art mifdeemd thus at the firfl:. 
 
 If lufl: did rule my reftleffe heart. 
 If onely lufl: did beare the fway, 
 I quickly could affwage my fmart. 
 With choyfe, and change, for euery day : 
 
 You fliould not laugh to fee me weepe, 
 
 If luft were it that ftrake fo deepe. 
 
 And 
 
 119 
 
I04 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 And yet at firft, before I knew, 
 What veine it was that bled fo fore, 
 Where luft or loue, to proue it true, 
 I tooke a falue that ftill before 
 Was wont to helpe, I chofe me one, 
 With whom I quencht my luft alone. 
 
 Yet this (fweet heart) could not fuffice, 
 A badar<^t- ^°^ ^"7 ^ay Content my mind, 
 ment to proue \ felt new qualmes, and new arife, 
 goo oue. ^^j ftronger ftill, and ftrong I find. 
 By this, I thus doe plainely proue. 
 It is not luft but faithfuU loue. 
 
 And yet to proue my loue more fure. 
 And fith you will not falfe your faith. 
 This pining plight I will indure. 
 Till death doe ftop your husbands breath : 
 To haue me then if you will fay 
 I will not marry till that day. 
 
 If you will giue your full confent. 
 When God fhall take your husbands life. 
 That then you will be well content, 
 To be my fpoufe and louing wife : 
 I will be ioyfull as before. 
 And till that time will craue no more. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 120 
 
Wilbby his Auifa. 105 
 
 Cant. L X 1 1 1 1. 
 
 A V I S A. 
 
 NO more, no more, too much of this. 
 And is mine inch become an ell ? 
 If thus you writhe my words amiffe, 
 I muft of force bid you farewell : 
 You fhew in this your louing bent. 
 To catch at that, I neuer ment. 
 
 I thought at firft (but this my thought 
 
 I muft corre6l) that fimple loue 
 
 In guiltleffe heart thefe fits had wrought,. 
 
 But I, the fimple I, now proue. 
 
 That vnder fliew of great good will, 
 My hearts delight you feeke to fpill. 
 
 He loues me well, that tills a trap, 
 
 Of deepe deceit and deadly baine. 
 
 In dreadfull danger thus to wrap 
 
 His friend by baites of fliering traine : 
 Though flattering tongues can paint it braue 
 Your words doe fhew what loue you haue. 
 
 I muft confent, and you will ftay 
 My husbands death. Obtaining this. 
 You thinke I could not fay you nay. 
 Nor of your other purpofe mifle. 
 You are deceiu'd, and you fhall trie. 
 That I fuch faith and friends defie. 
 
 Such 
 
 121 
 
io6 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Such fained former faithlefle plot, 
 I muft deteft, and tell you plaine, 
 If now I were to caft my lot, 
 With free confent to chufe againe : 
 Of all the men I euer knew, 
 I would not make my choyce of you. 
 
 Let this fuffice, and doe not ftay, 
 On hope of that which will not be, 
 Then ceafe your fuit, goe where you may, 
 Vaine is your truft, to hope on me. 
 My choyce is paft, my heart is bent, 
 While that remaines to be content. 
 
 Now hauing traft the winding trace 
 Of falfe refemblance, giue me leaue 
 From this to fhew a ftranger grace. 
 Then heretofore you did perceaue : 
 'Gainft friendleffe loue if I repine, 
 The fault is yours and none of mine. 
 
 Cant. LXV. 
 
 Hen. Will. 
 
 I Will not wifli, I cannot vow 
 Thy hurt, thy griefe, though thou difdaine ; 
 Though thou refufe I know not how 
 To quite my loue with loue againe : 
 Since I haue fwore to be thy friend, 
 As I began fo will I end. 
 
 Sweare 
 
 122 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 107 
 
 Sweare thou my death, worke thou my woe, 
 Confpire with griefe to flop my breath. 
 Yet ftill thy friend, and not thy foe, 
 I will remaine vntill my death. 
 
 Chufe whom thou wilt, I will refigne. 
 
 If loue or faith be like tomine. 
 
 But while I wretch too long haue lent, 
 My wandring eyes, to gaze on thee, 
 I haue both time and trauell fpent 
 In vaine, in vaine : and now I fee. 
 
 They doe but fruitleffe paine procure, 
 
 To haggard Kites that caft the lure. 
 
 When I am dead, yet thou maifl bead : 
 
 Thou hadft a friend a faithfull friend. 
 
 That lining liu'd to loue thee moft, 
 
 And lou'd thee ftill vnto his end : 
 
 Though thou vnworthy, with difdaine 
 Didft force him liue, and dye in paine. 
 
 Now may I fing, now figh, and fay. 
 Farewell my life, farewell my icy ; 
 Now mourne by night, now weepe by day 
 Loue, too much loue breeds mine annoy : 
 
 What can I wifh ? what fhould I craue ? 
 
 Sith that is gone that I ftiould haue. 
 
 Though hope be turned to defpaire. 
 Yet giue my tongue leaue to lament, 
 IBeleeue me now, my heart doth fweare. 
 My luckleffe loue was truely ment, 
 
 Thou art too proud I fay no more, 
 
 Too ftout : and woe is me therefore. 
 
 Felice chipuo. 
 
 123 
 
io8 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Auifa hauing heard this patheticall fancie of H. 
 W. and feeing the teares trill downe his cheekes, as 
 halfe angry to fee fuch paffionate folly in man, 
 that fliould haue gouernment ; with a frowning 
 countenance turned from him without further an- 
 fwere, making filence her beft reply, and following 
 the counfell of the wife, not to anfwere a foole in his 
 folly, left he grow too foolifti, returned quite from 
 him, & left him alone. But he departing home, & not 
 able by reafon to rule the raging fume of his phan- 
 tafticall furie, caft himfelfe vpon his bed, and re- 
 fufing both foode and comfort for many dayes to- 
 gether, fell at length into fuch extremity of paf- 
 fionate affeflions, that as many as faw him, had 
 great doubt of his health, but more of his wits, yet 
 after a long fpace, abfence hauing procured fome 
 refpite from his forrowes, he takes his penne and 
 writes as followeth. 
 
 Cant. LXVI. 
 
 Hen. Will. 
 
 (blood 
 
 I Ike wounded deer whofe tender fids are batlid in 
 ,^Frd deadly wound by fatal hand & forked Jhaft : 
 So bleeds my pierced heart, for fo you think it good. 
 With cruelty to kill, that which you got by craft: 
 You fill did loth my life, my death Jhal be your gain 
 To die to do you good, I fhal not thinke itpaine. 
 
 My 
 
 124 
 
Willoby his Aui/a. 109 
 
 My per/on could not pleafe, my talke ivas out of f ram 
 Though hart & eye could neuer brook my loathed fight 
 Yet loue doth make me fay, to keepeyou out of blame, 
 The fault was onely mine, and that you did but right, 
 When I am gone, I hope my ghofijhaljhew you plain 
 That I did truely loue, and tliat I did notfaine. 
 
 Now mufi I find the way to waile while life doth lafl, 
 Yet hope I foone to fee the end of dolefull dales ; 
 W he floods of flowing fear es, & creeping cares arepaft 
 Then fhal I leaue tofing, and write thefe doleful laies 
 For now I loath the food & blood that lends me breath 
 I count all pleafures paine that keepe me fro my death 
 
 To darke and heauy fhades, I now will take my flight, 
 Where neither tongue, nor eyefiiall tell or fee my fall, 
 That titer e I may difgeft thefe dregges of thy defpight, 
 Andpurg tJte clotted blood, that now my hart doth gal 
 In fecret filence fo, Perforce _/%«// be myfong. 
 Till truth make you confeffe that you haue done me 
 
 {wrong. 
 
 Gia fpeme fpenta, 
 H.W. 
 
 A VISA. 
 
 I2S 
 
I lo Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 A V I s A refujing both to come or fend him any an- 
 fwere, after a long and melancholike deliberation, 
 he wrote againe as followeth. 
 
 Cant. LXVII. 
 
 Hen. Will. 
 
 T Hough you refufe to come or fend ; 
 Yet this I fend, though I doe ftay, 
 Vnto thefe lines fome credite lend, 
 And marke it well what they fhall fay. 
 They cannot hurt, then reade them all. 
 They doe but fhew their mafters fall. 
 
 Though you difdaine to fhew remorfe. 
 You were the firft, and onely wight. 
 Whofe fawning features did inforce. 
 My will to runne beyond my might : 
 
 In female face fuch force we fee. 
 
 To capture them, that erft were free. 
 
 Your onely word was then a law 
 Vnto my minde, if I did finne, 
 Forgiue this fmne, but then I faw 
 My bane or bliffe did then begin : 
 
 See what my fancie could haue done, 
 
 Your loue at firft, if I had wonne. 
 
 All 
 
 126 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 1 1 1 
 
 All fortune flat I had defide, 
 
 To choyce and change defiance fent, 
 
 No frowning fates could haue denide, 
 
 My loues purfuite, and willing bent : 
 This was my mind, if I had found, 
 Your loue as mine but halfe fo found. 
 
 Then had I bad the hellifli route. 
 To frounce aloft their wrinckled front. 
 And curfed hagges that are fo ftout, 
 I boldly would haue bid auaunt : 
 
 Let earth and ayre haue frownd their fill. 
 
 So I had wrought my wiflied will. 
 
 No raging ftorme nor whirling blafl, 
 My fetled heart could haue annoyd. 
 No skie with thundring clouds ore-cafl 
 Had hurt, if you I had enioyd : 
 
 Now hap is paft, loe you may fee. 
 
 How euery toy tormenteth me. Chi circa troua. 
 
 Cant. LXVIII. 
 
 H. W. 
 
 With oken planckes to plaine the wanes, 
 What Neptunes rage could I haue fear'd ? 
 To quell the gulfe that rudely raues, 
 What perill could haue once appear'd ? 
 But now that I am left alone. 
 Bare thoughts inforce my heart to grone. 
 
 I 2 With 
 
 127 
 
112 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 With thee to paffe the chamfered grounds, 
 
 What force of feare could me reftraine ? 
 
 With thee to chafe the Scillan hounds, 
 
 Me thinkes it were a pleafant paine : 
 This was my thought, this was my loue, 
 Which none but death can yet remoue. 
 
 It then behooues my fainted fpirit. 
 
 To loftie skies returne againe, 
 
 Sith onely death brings me delight. 
 
 Which louing Hue in careleffe paine. 
 What hap to ftranger is affign'd. 
 If knowne friends doe fuch fauour finde. 
 
 How often haue my friendly mates. 
 My louing errors laught to fcorne ? 
 How oft for thee found I debates. 
 Which now I wifh had beene forborne ? 
 
 But this and more would I haue done. 
 
 If I thy fauour could haue wonne. 
 
 I faw your gardens paffing fine. 
 
 With pleafant flowres lately deckt, 
 
 With Couflips, and with Eglantine, 
 
 When wofuU Woodbine lies reieft : 
 Yet thefe in weeds and bryers doe meete. 
 Although they feeme to fmell fo fweete. 
 
 The dainty Dayfie brauely fprings. 
 And cheifeft honour feemes to get. 
 I enuie not fuch friendly things. 
 But bleffe the hand that thefe haue fet : 
 
 Yet let the Hyfop haue his place. 
 
 That doth deferue a fpeciall grace. 
 
 Viui, chi vince. Cant. 
 
 128 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 1 1 3 
 
 Cant. LXIX. 
 
 H.W. 
 
 BVt now farewell your felfe fhall fee, 
 An odde exchange of friends in time, 
 You may perhaps then wifh for me, 
 And waile too late this cruell crime : 
 You wifli your felfe perhaps befhrew'd, 
 That you to me fuch rigor fhew'd. 
 
 I cannot force you for to like, 
 Where cruell fancie doth rebell, 
 I muft fome other fortune feeke. 
 But where or how I cannot tell : 
 
 And yet I doubt where you Ihall find. 
 
 In all your life, fo fure a friend. 
 
 Of pleafant dayes the date is gone. 
 My carcaffe pineth in conceit ; 
 The line of life his race hath runne, 
 Expe6ling found of deaths retreat : 
 
 Yet would I liue to loue thee ftill, 
 
 And doe thee good againft thy will. 
 
 How can I loue, how can I liue, 
 Whilft that my heart hath loft his hope .' 
 Defpaire abandons fweet reliefe, 
 My loue and life, haue loft their fcope ; 
 Yet would I liue thy feature to behold. 
 Yet would I loue, if I might be fo bold. 
 
 I 3 My 
 
 129 
 
114 
 
 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Thefe verfes 
 exceede 
 meafure, to 
 fliew that his 
 affedlions 
 keepe no 
 compaffe, 
 and excee- 
 ding loue. 
 
 My griefe is greene and euer fprings, 
 
 My forrow full of deadly fap, 
 
 Sweete death remoue thefe bitter things, 
 
 Giue end to hard and cruell hap : 
 Yet would I Hue, if I might fee. 
 My life or limmes might pleafure thee. 
 
 Farewell that fweete and pleafant walke, 
 The witneffe of my faith and woe, 
 That oft hath heard our friendly talke, 
 And gaue me leaue my griefe to fliow : 
 
 O pleafant path, where I could fee. 
 
 No croffe at all but onely fliee. 
 
 Ilfine,farl tutto. 
 
 Cant. L X X. 
 
 H.W. 
 
 Like filly Bat that loues the darke, 
 ^And feldome brookes the wiftied light, 
 Obfcurely fo I feeke the marke, 
 That aye doth vanifh from my fight : 
 Yet fhall fhee fay, I dyed her friend, 
 Though by difdaine fhe fought mine end. 
 
 Faine would I ceafe and hold my tongue. 
 But loue and forrow fet me on, 
 Needes mufl I plaine of fpitefull wrong, 
 Sith hope and health will both be gone. 
 When branch from inward rinde is fled, 
 The barke doth wifh the body dead. 
 
 If 
 
 130 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 115 
 
 If euer man were borne to woe, 
 I am the man you know it well. 
 My chiefeft friend my greateft foe. 
 And heauen become my heauy hell : 
 
 This doe I feele, this doe I finde ; 
 
 But who can loofe that God will binde ? 
 
 For fmce the day, O difmall day, 
 
 I firft beheld that fmiling face, 
 
 My fancie made her choyce flraight way, 
 
 And bad all other loues giue place. 
 Yea fmce I faw the louing fight, 
 I freeze and frie, twixt ioy and fpight. 
 
 Where fond fufpeft doth keepe the gate. 
 
 There truft is chafed from the dore, 
 
 Then faith and truth will come too late, 
 
 Where falfhood will admit no more. 
 Then naked faith and loue muft yeeld, 
 For lacke of fence, and flye the field. 
 
 Then eafier were it for to chufe, 
 
 To craule againft the craggie hill. 
 
 Then fuites, then fighes, then words to vfe. 
 
 To change a froward womans will : 
 Then othes and vowes are all in vaine. 
 And truth a toy, where fancies raigne. 
 
 Ama, Chitiama. 
 
 I 4 Cant. 
 
 131 
 
ii6 Willoby his Aui/a. 
 
 Cant. L X X I. 
 
 H. Will. 
 
 MY tongue, my hand, my ready heart, 
 That fpake, that felt, that freely thought : 
 My loue, my limmes, my inward fmart, 
 Haue all performed what they ought, 
 Thefe all doe loue thee yet, and fhall, 
 And when I change, let vengeance fall. 
 
 Shall I repent I euer faw 
 
 That face, that fo can frowne on me ? 
 
 How can I wifli, when fancies draw 
 
 Mine eyes to wifh and looke for thee : 
 Then though you doe deny my right. 
 Yet barre me not from wifhed fight. 
 
 And yet I craue I know not what, 
 Perchance my prefence breedes your paine, 
 And if I were perfwaded that, 
 I would in abfence ftill remaine : 
 
 You fhall not feele the fmalleft griefe, 
 
 Although it were to faue my life. 
 
 Ah, wo is me, the cafe fo ftands, 
 That fencelefle papers pleade my woe. 
 Thy cannot weepe nor wring their hands, 
 But fay perhaps that I did fo : 
 
 And though thefe lines for mercy craue, 
 
 Who can on papers pitie haue ? 
 
 O 
 
 132 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 1 1 7 
 
 O that my griefes, my fighes, my teares, 
 Might plainely mufter in your view, 
 Then paine, not pen ; then faith, not feares, 
 Should vouch my vowes, and writings true : 
 This wifhing Ihewes a wofull want, 
 Of that which you by right fhould grant. 
 
 Now fare thou well, whofe welfare brings 
 
 Such loathfome feare and ill to me. 
 
 Yet here thy friend this farewell fings, 
 
 Though heauy word a farewell be. 
 Againft all hope if I hope ftill, 
 Blame but aboundance of good will. 
 
 Grand Amore, grand Dolor e, 
 Inopen me copia fecit. 
 
 H. W. 
 
 Cant. 
 
 133 
 
ii8 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 Cant. L X X I I. 
 
 A V I s A her last reply. 
 
 YOur long Epiftle I haue read, 
 Great ftore of words and little wit, 
 (For want of wit thefe fancies bred) 
 To anfwer all I thinke not fit : 
 But in a word, you fliall perceiue, 
 How kindly I will take my leaue. 
 
 When you (hall fee fweet Lillies grow, 
 
 And flowrifh in the frozen Ife, 
 
 When ebbing tides fhall leaue to flow, 
 
 And mountaines to the skies fhall rife : 
 When roaring Seas doe ceafe to raue, 
 Then fliall you gaine the thing you craue. 
 
 When fifli as haggard Hawkes fliall flye, 
 When Seas fliall flame, and Sunne fliall freeze. 
 When mortall men fliall neuer die, 
 And earth fhall yeeld no hearb nor trees : 
 
 Then (hall your word my mind remoue, 
 
 And I accept your proffered loue. 
 
 When Thames (hall leaue his channell drye, 
 When (heepe (hall feede amidft the fea : 
 When (tones aloft as birds fhall flie. 
 And night be changed into day : 
 
 Then (hall you fee that I will yeeld, 
 
 And to your force refigne the field. 
 
 Till 
 
 134 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 119 
 
 Till all thefe things doe come to paffe, 
 
 Affure your felfe, you know my minde ; 
 
 My heart is now as firft it was, 
 
 I came not of dame Chryjids kinde : 
 Then leaue to hope, learne to refraine 
 Your minde from that, you feeke in vaine. 
 
 I wifli you well, and well to fare. 
 And therewithall a godly minde, 
 Deuoide of luft, and foolifh care, 
 This if you feeke, this fhall you finde. 
 
 But I mufl fay, as erft before ; 
 
 Then ceafe to waile and write no more. 
 
 Alwayes the fame 
 
 Auifa. 
 
 Hen. Will, was now againe Jlricken fo dead, that 
 he hath not yet any further affay, nor I thinke euer 
 will and whether he be aliue or dead, I know not, and 
 therefore I leaue him. 
 
 Th( 
 
 13s 
 
1 20 Willoby his Auifa. 
 
 The Authors conclufion. 
 
 So thus flie ftands vnconquered yet, 
 As Lambe amids the Lyons pawes, 
 Whom gifts, nor wiles, nor force of wit, 
 Could vanquifh once for all their ftiewes : 
 To fpeake the truth and fay no more, 
 I neuer knew her like before. 
 
 Then blame me not if I proteft, 
 
 My filly Mufe fhall ftill commend, 
 
 This conftant A. aboue the reft. 
 
 While other learne their life to mend, 
 My tongue on high, and high fhall raife 
 And alwayes fing her worthy prayfe, 
 
 While hand can write, while wit deuife, 
 While tongue is free to make report. 
 Her vertue fhall be had in prife, 
 Among the beft and honeft fort, 
 
 And they that will miflike of this, 
 
 I fhall fufpedl they ftrike amiffe. 
 
 Eternall then let be the fame 
 
 Of fuch as hold a conftant minde ; 
 
 Eternall be the lafting fhame. 
 
 Of fuch as wane with euery winde : 
 Though fome there be that will repine. 
 Yet fome will prayfe this wifh of mine. 
 
 But 
 
 136 
 
Willoby his Auifa. 201 
 
 But heere I ceafe for feare of blame, 
 Although there be a great deale more, 
 That might be fpoken of this dame, 
 That yet lies hid in fecret ftore : 
 If this be lik't then can I fay, 
 Yee may fee more another day. 
 
 Agitante calefcimus illo. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 THE 
 
 137 
 
12- 
 
 THE 
 
 APOLOGIE, 
 
 (hewing the true meaning 
 
 of WiLLOBIE his 
 A V I S A. 
 
 O a new Edition giue me leaue to adde a 
 new Inftruftion, for fuch as I vnder- 
 ftand, haue made of the other, a falfe 
 and captious conflruftion. If Sapiens 
 come a Sapore, ( as fome will haue it, and that as 
 the Tafte iudgeth of meates, fo wife men iudge of 
 natures and intents ) I maruaile that fome men fo 
 greatly aflfefting the name of wifedome, haue by 
 rafli iudgement, ( the badge of folly ) fliewed them- 
 felues fo much vnwife, and without fap. But I fee 
 that as it happeneth in the diftemperature of the 
 body, fo it often fareth in the diforders of the 
 minde : for the body being oppreffed with the vene- 
 mous malice of fome predominate humor, the feate 
 of iudgement which is the tafte, is corrupted : and 
 meates, which of their owne nature are whole- 
 fome and fweete, feeme vnto the mouth (ill affefted) 
 
 both 
 
 139 
 
124 The Apologie. 
 
 both bitter, vnfauorie, and vnwholefotne : So the 
 heart being poffeffed with a veine of vanitie, or 
 a fpirit of preiudicate opinion, direfteth iudgement 
 by the line of fancie, not of reafon : and the bitter- 
 neffe of his owne infefted folly, marres the fweete 
 tafte of other mens fimple and honeft meaning. 
 Therefore becaufe fome haue applyed this Poeme, as 
 they ought not ; I am inforced to fpeake that 
 which I thought not. 
 
 Many branches of errors, haue fprouted forth 
 from the roote of one fond and mifconftrued con- 
 ceite. The growing of fuch grafts I hoped that I 
 had fufficiently preuented in the Preface firft printed 
 with this booke. But this is the generall fault of all 
 rafh Readers, when they fee a booke, they turne 
 either to the middeft, or the latter end or at all 
 aduentures reading that which at firft opening they 
 happen on, if that prefently doe not fit their fancie, 
 they will fodainly pronounce a definitiue fentence 
 of condemnation, both againft the matter and the 
 maker : as if by the infpiration of fome Pythian O- 
 racle, they were prefently brought in poffeffion of 
 the whole fence, meaning and intent of the Author, 
 hauing reade neither the preface, nor perchance 
 fix lines of the whole booke. 
 
 But moft I maruaile that one P.C. (who fee- 
 meth to bee a Scholler ) hath beene carried away 
 with this ftreame of a mifconceiued folly : For I 
 dare pawne my life, that there is no particular wo- 
 man in the world, that was either partie or priuie 
 to any one fentence or word in that booke. This 
 poeticall fiftion was penned by the Author at leaft 
 
 for 
 
 140 
 
The Apologie. 125 
 
 for thirtie and fiue yeeres fince, ( as it will be pro- 
 ued ) and lay in waft papers in his ftudy, as many 
 other prettie things did, of his deuifing; and fo 
 might haue continued ftill ( as his Sufanna yet 
 doth ) had not I, contrarie to his knowledge , 
 with paine collefted it ; and ( in confideration of 
 the good end, to which it was direfted ) pub- 
 lifhed it. Seeing therefore that I gaue the offence, 
 I muft fatisfie for it, in defending innocents from 
 flanderous tongues. This plaine Morall deuice was 
 plotted only for the repreffion and opening of Vice, 
 and to the exaltation and triumph of Vertue, as hee 
 himfelfe faith. 
 
 Myjleepy Mufe that wakes but now, 
 
 To vertues prayfe Jiath pajl her vow. 
 
 Verttie therefore being Genus, and Chaftitie 
 Species, if hee fhould haue defcribed it, either in 
 Genere, or Specie, as fome haue done, he might 
 haue beene as obfcure as fome others haue beene. 
 Hee fained therefore an Indiuiduum, as it were 
 a particular of this fpeciall, the more familiarly 
 to expreffe it, as it were in common talke, as 
 if one did anfwere another, to delight the rea- 
 der the more, with variety of folly quenched 
 prefently, with the like varietie of Vertue. To 
 this fained Indiuiduum, he gaue this fained name 
 Auifa. Which poeticall fiftion P. C. calleth a 
 pamphlet. It is folly for a man to defpife that which 
 he cannot mend. The Author was vnknowne, not 
 becaufe hee could not ; but becaufe hee would not 
 know him : his true name being open in euery 
 Page. He faith : the Author hath regiftred the mea- 
 
 K neft. 
 
 141 
 
126 The Apologie. 
 
 neft. I thought that Chaftitie had not beene the 
 meaneft, but rather one of the greateft gifts, that 
 God giueth to men or women. If by the meaneft, he 
 meane any other obiefl or fubie6l of Willobie his 
 Mufe, then Chaftity itfelfe, (vnder the fained name 
 oi Aui/a) it is a meaning of his owne making ; and 
 a fubieft of his owne fuggeftion, far from the 
 mind of the firft maker. None can eternize their 
 folly in things which they neuer thought of: but I 
 pray God fome other haue not eternized their 
 follies, more wayes then one. If this fained name 
 of Aui/a miflike any man , for any hidden or 
 priuate caufe to the Author or me vnknowne, let 
 him call it what he will : So that he vnderftand 
 that it is Chaftity it felfe , not any woman in the 
 world, that is fained to giue thefe foyles to this 
 foule vice. 
 
 Therefore whereas fome in their grauity defpife 
 it for the lightneffe, and thinke it is but a fantafti- 
 call toy, without any reach or fecret fence, I will 
 not ftriue to turne the courfe of that ftreame. Yet if 
 my fancie might be admitted a iudge in this matter, 
 it would produce a fentence of a farre contrary na- 
 ture. For it feemeth rather to me that the Author 
 intending fome rare exploit, endeuoured to defcribe 
 the doubtful combat, that is daily fought betweene 
 Vice and Vertue, two princes of great power. And 
 to that end he chofe out two of the moft approued 
 Captaines of both the Campes to trie the quarrell. 
 Out of the one hee tooke Luxuriam, Lecherie, 
 which as we fee, fwayeth the minds of the greateft 
 men, and commandeth largely. Out of the other, 
 
 he 
 
 142 
 
The Apologie. 127 
 
 he oppofeth Cajlitatem, Chaftitie, a fouldier rarely 
 feene (in thefe dayes) to refift the enemies Pufli, and 
 therefore in one of his verfes, is called A Phcenix, or 
 rare-feene bird. 
 
 The fouldiers which hee drawes forth to fight 
 vnder the banner of this Captaine Lecherie, are all 
 eftates and degrees , and all Countries and Com- 
 mon-wealthes : meaning, that no men, from the 
 higheft eftate to the loweft ; no Countries, from the 
 moft ciuill to the moft barbarous, are free from 
 the feruile fubiedlion of this raging principality : So 
 that in this part, hee defcribeth the combats, the 
 affaults, the intifements, and allurements, which 
 Noblemen, Gentlemen, and all other loofe and 
 vnbridled mindes, can by money, wealth, pleafure, 
 force, fancy, or any other patheticall paflion, pro- 
 cure, or deuife, to raze the walls of befieged Cha- 
 ftity. Vnder whofe banner he fendeth forth onely 
 one poore woman, of a fayned name ( minding 
 to Ihew what the propertie of good women fhould 
 bee) to refift fo many, fo mighty, fo ftrong, and 
 fubtill enemies fighting with fuch forcible weapons 
 of honour authority, glorie, eafe and pleafure. 
 Surely, he imagined, that in fome women there 
 was yet left fo much Chaftitie, as was able to refift 
 the lewd and diuelifli temptations of all men 
 whatfoeuer. And therefore, through the whole 
 booke, he attributeth the viftory to vertue, and the 
 foyle to folly. 
 
 And farther, where as in other bookes, there is 
 found a bare defcription onely, or naming of Vice 
 or vertue, me thinkes in reading of this, my con- 
 
 K 2 ceite 
 
 143 
 
128 The Apologie. 
 
 ceite tels mee that in the perfon of this woman all 
 the morall vertues, with one voyce are heard 
 pleading, and difcourfing at large againft vice, in 
 a liuely aftion : In whofe words, ( if they bee con- 
 fidered from the beginning to the end) we may fee, 
 how the fpirit of God ftriueth againft the Spirit of 
 Sathan, by reafons, by Scriptures, and by pro- 
 phane Hiftories, to lay open the greatneffe, the 
 fouleneffe, the danger, and deceit of this deadly 
 fm, that rageth fo hotly, in the vnmortified mem- 
 bers of mortall men. 
 
 On the other fide me thinks I fee how the Deuill 
 calling together all his companie, in hope of a con- 
 queft tries all wayes and affayes all meanes to effefl 
 his defire. But his labor is imagined heere to be loft, 
 and that there is fome modefty, wifedome, honeftie 
 and feare of God remaining yet in fome women, 
 fufficient at all times to ouercome him. Therfore 
 whofoeuer accounteth this Poeme, but a vaine 
 fiftion, cutteth the throate of all feminine faith, 
 and robbeth all chaft Ladies of their chiefeft ho- 
 nour. 
 
 Some others, being much addifted to that fweete 
 bitter fmne of Leacherie, thinke their fecret prafti- 
 ces of bauderie, to be too plainely defcribed, and 
 therefore labour to haue it regiftred for a meere toy, 
 I will not, as a Phyfition affay, with Helleborus to 
 purge their heads of thofe humors, leaft perhaps 
 they bee of the men of Abydus, who (as Ariftotle 
 reporteth ) being mad, tooke fuch delight in their 
 madneffe that they were angry with them, that 
 brought them to their wits. 
 
 Some 
 
 144 
 
The Apo logic. 129 
 
 Some others there be, who when they haue read 
 this booke, haue blufhed to themfelues, finding, as 
 they thought, their very words and writings which 
 they had vfed in the like attempts. In which is to be 
 noted, the force of a guilty confcience, which feares 
 where no feare is, and flyeth when no man follow- 
 eth. Thefe fancies (forfooth) haue framed names to 
 letters, of their owne deuices ; and they haue imagi- 
 ned places of their owne placing, fo fitly for euerie 
 defcription, that they will needs inforce the Author 
 to fpeake of them, whom he neuer knew ; to ayme 
 at their fancies, whofe faces he neuer faw ; and to 
 Cypher their names, whofe natures to him were 
 ignorant and ftrange. 
 
 Laftly ; concerning the fained name of A V I S A 
 I haue fhewed the Authors deuice, and his reafon 
 for the fiftion, in the firft Preface, which I thought 
 would haue quailed all other fiflions whatfoeuer. 
 
 But yet if farder yee will haue my conceit, the 
 order, words, and frame of the whole difcourfe, 
 force me to think that which I am vnwilling to fay. 
 That this name infinuateth, that there was neuer 
 fuch a woman feene, as heere is defcribed. For the 
 word A' VIS A is compounded, (after the Greeke 
 manner) of the priuatiue particle A, which figni- 
 fieth Non : and of the participle Vifus, Vifa, Vifum, 
 which fignifieth, Scene: So that A'uifa iho\x\A tig- 
 nifie (by this) as much as Non vifa, that is : Such a 
 woman as was neuer feene. Which if it bee true, 
 then Auifa is yet vnborne, that muft reioyce in 
 this prayfe. The Author in this booke compareth 
 this vertue of Chaftity vnto a Bird, as is feene in 
 
 K 3 his 
 
 145 
 
130 The Apologie. 
 
 his introduftion, faying : Of Vertues Bird, my mufe 
 muft fing. 
 
 For as the Birde by his wings mounteth in the 
 aire vpwards to heauen : So Chaftitie, where euer 
 it is, makes the minde to mount from the bafe and 
 filthy fociety of earthly conceits, and fits it to flie 
 vp to God, in heauenly meditations ; whereas 
 luft and wicked pleafures, chaine the minde in 
 thraldome of fleflily concupifcence (as Prome- 
 theus was tyed to the hill Caucafus) which will not 
 fuffer the thoughts to afcend by any meanes. The 
 fame Hieroglyphicall allufion they meant, that 
 pi6tured S. lohn with a Birde fitting by him, to fig- 
 nifie, that of all the foure Euangeliftes, hee in his 
 Gofpell flew higheft, and fpake moft of the Dietie 
 of Chrift. Now therefore the latine word of a Birde 
 being Auis, and the Author (perchance) alluding 
 vnto that, did the rather call, his viflorious mou- 
 ting viftory of Vertue, by the name of Auifa, as 
 alluding to his owne allufion. If any man there- 
 fore by this, fhould take occafion to furmife, that 
 the Author meant to note any woman, whofe name 
 founds fomething like that name, it is too childifli 
 and too abfurd, and not befeeming any deepe 
 iudgement, confidering there are many things, 
 which cannot be applyed to any woman. 
 
 But to conclude, thus much I dare precifely a- 
 uouch, that the Author intended in this difcourfe, 
 neither the defcription or prayfe of any particular 
 woman ; nor the naming or cyphering of any par- 
 ticular man. But in generall vnder a fained name 
 infinuateth what godly and conftant women 
 
 fhould 
 
 146 
 
The Apologie. 131 
 
 fhould doe, and fay in fuch lewde temptations. And 
 alfo, vnder fained letters, generally expreffeth, what 
 courfe moft of thefe lawleffe futers take, in purfuit 
 of their fancied fooleries, and therefore this P. C. 
 hath offred manifeft iniurie to fome, what euer 
 they bee, whom his priuate fancie hath fecretly 
 framed in conceit. 
 
 This is the leaft that I could fay, and the laft that 
 euer I wil fay touching this matter in defence of my 
 friend. If any notwithftanding will continue the 
 errour of their vnfatisfied minds they muft for euer 
 reft in the rightleffe erring, till the Authour 
 (now of late gone to God) returne from 
 Heauen to fatisfie them farder tou- 
 ching his meaning. And fo 
 farwel. Oxford this 30. 
 of lune. 1569. 
 V .1, H* 
 
 Thine to v/e, 
 
 Hadrian Dorrell. 
 
 K 4 Thi 
 
 H7 
 
133 
 
 The viBorie of Englijh Chajiitie, 
 
 Vnder the fained name of 
 A VISA. 
 
 FOr beauties Ball, in Ida-YaXe, 
 Three Nimphes at once, did once contend. 
 The Princely Shepheard of the Dale, 
 By iudgement did the quarrell end : 
 That Paris might faire Hellen haue, 
 The Golden Price to Vemis gaue. 
 
 In Sea-bred foyle, on Tempe downes, 
 Whofe filuer fpring, from Neptunes Well, 
 With mirth falutes the neighbour townes, 
 A hot Contention lately fell : 
 
 Twice two fweet Graces, vrge the ftrife, 
 Of two which was the ConJiant'Ji wife. 
 
 Faire Venus vaunts Penelops fame 
 From Greece, from liftes of Lauin Land 
 Proud hmo ftoutly doth the fame, 
 Whofe prayfe in princely wealth doth ftand : 
 
 They both condemne Diana's choyce, 
 
 That to Auifa gaue her voyce. 
 
 Then 
 
134 
 
 The Victory of 
 
 Contention. 
 
 A noble man 
 of Greece, 
 not farre 
 from He- 
 licon, 
 
 The Oration 
 of luno a- 
 ganfl Englilh 
 Chaftity vn- 
 der the name 
 of Auifa. 
 
 Then came the pale Athenian Mufe, 
 
 Whofe learned wifdome paft them all, 
 
 She with Diana did refufe 
 
 The Grecians pra3^e : though luno call, 
 Chafte Wit to Wealth here will not yeeld : 
 Nor yet to ftrangers leaue the field : 
 
 Whil'fl: Eris flafht thefe fretting flames, 
 
 A Noble prince in Rojie borne, 
 
 Roger hight, to Angry dames. 
 
 His flying fteed, and pace did turne, 
 Which done they all pid ftraight agree. 
 That this Rogero, ludge fhould be. 
 
 On flowrie bancks, this Councell pla'ft, 
 
 From iealous luno's enuious eyes, 
 
 Long fmothered hate flames forth at lafl:, 
 
 In furious fmoakes of angry cries : 
 As though fhe had the Garland wan, 
 With fcoffing termes, fhe thus began. 
 
 „ Stoop Grecian trumpes, ceafe Romans prayfe, 
 
 „ Shut vp with fhame, your famous dames ; 
 
 „ Sith we our felues BafeBritans rayfe 
 
 „ To ouer-Top their chiefeft fames : 
 
 „ With Noble faith what madnefle dare 
 
 „ Such Nouell gueftes and faith compare } 
 
 „ Penelope muft now«contend 
 
 „ For chafte renowne : whofe conftant heart, 
 
 „ Both Greeks and Latines all commend 
 
 „ With poore Auifa new vpftart, 
 
 „ I fcorne to fpeake much in this cafe, 
 
 „ Her prayfes Riuall is fo bafe. 
 
 Pe- 
 
 150 
 
Englijh Chajlity. 135 
 
 Penelope fprang from Noble houfe, „ 
 
 By Noble match, twice Noble made, „ 
 
 Auifa, both by Syre and fpoufe, 
 
 Was linckt to men of meaneft trade ; „ 
 
 What furie forc't Diana's wit, „ 
 
 To match thefe two fo farre vnfit ? „ 
 
 The Grecian dame of princely peeres „ 
 
 Twice fifty flatly did denie : „ 
 
 Twice ten yeeres long in doubtfull feares, „ 
 
 Could new Auifa fo reply ? „ 
 
 And fhe that is fo (lout and ftrong, „ 
 
 Could fhe haue ftaid but halfe fo long ? „ 
 
 Fie, leaue for fhame, thus to commend,- „ 
 
 So bafe a Britaine, fhall I fpeake ? „ 
 
 I thinke thefe Mufes did intend, „ 
 
 To blow a glaffe that fhould not breake : „ 
 
 Here Venus fmilde, and luno ftaid, „ 
 
 ludge now (quoth fhe) for I haue faid. „ 
 
 When Pallas heard this rufling rage, 
 
 Thefe toying ieftes, this fa.lfe furmife : 
 
 Shee pawf'd which way fhe might affwage, The reply of 
 
 The flame that thus began to rife, gainft /«»» 
 
 With fetled grace and modeft eye, i" defence 
 
 Thus did fhee frame her milde reply. ° "*''"■ 
 
 Thou princely ludge here maift thou fee, „ 
 
 What force in Error doth remaine, „ 
 
 In Enuious Pnde what fruites there be,. 
 
 To writhe the paths, that lie fo plaine : 
 
 A double darkhes drownes the mind, „ 
 
 Whom felfe will make fo wilfuU blind. „ 
 
 Can 
 
 151 
 
136 
 
 The ViSiory of 
 
 Willoby def- 
 cribed no 
 particular 
 woman, but 
 only Chafti- 
 ty and faith 
 it felfe vnder 
 the name of 
 Auifa. 
 
 Chaftity is 
 termed A- 
 uifa quafi 
 Non Vijfa, 
 aut ab Aue 
 Altivolanto, 
 
 „ Can Britaifte breede no Phoenix bird, 
 „ No conftant feme in Englifli field ? 
 „ To Greece to Rome, is there no third, 
 „ Hath Albion none that will not yeeld ? 
 „ If this affirme you will not dare, 
 „ Then let me Faith with Faith compare. 
 
 „ Let choyce refpeft of Perfons Aide 
 „ Let Faith and Faith a while contend, 
 „ Vrge not the Nantes till caufe be tride, 
 „ Tis onely Faith, that we commend, 
 „ We ftriue not for Auifa' s fame. 
 „ We recke not of Auifa' s name. 
 
 „ To proue him vaine, that vainely ftriues, 
 
 „ That Chaftity is no where found, 
 
 „ In Englifh earth, in Britifli wiues, 
 
 „ That all are fickle, all vnfound, 
 
 „ We framde a wench, we fain'd a name, 
 
 „ That fhould confound them all with (hame. 
 
 „ To this at firft you did confent, 
 
 „ And lent with ioy your helping hand, 
 
 „ You both at firft were well content, 
 
 „ This fained frame fliould firmely ftand, 
 
 „ We to Diana gaue the maide, 
 
 „ That fhe might no way be betraid. 
 
 „ The mounting Phoenix, chajl defire, 
 „ This Vertue fram'd, to conquer Vice, 
 „ This Not-feene Nimph, this heatleffe fire, 
 „ This Chaji found Bird, of noble price, 
 „ Was nam'de Auifa by decree, 
 „ That Name and nature might agree. 
 
 If 
 
 152 
 
Englijh Chajiity. 
 
 m 
 
 If this Auifa reprefent, 
 
 Chajl Vertue in a fained name, 
 
 If Cfuxjlity it felfe be ment, 
 
 To be extold with lafting fame : 
 
 Her Greekifli gemme can hmo dare, 
 
 With this Auifa to compare ? 
 
 Let wife VfyJJes conftant mate, 
 
 Vaunt noble birth her richeft boaft. 
 
 Yet will her challenge come too late. 
 
 When Pride and wealth haue done their moft, 
 
 For this Auifa from aboue 
 
 Came downe whofe Syre, is mighty loue. 
 
 How can you terme her then Obfcure, 
 That fhines fo bright in euery eye ? 
 How is fhe bafe that can endure, 
 So long, fo much and mounts fo hie ? 
 
 If fhe you meane, haue no fuch power, 
 
 Tis your Auifa, none of our. 
 
 This not feene bird, though rarely found, 
 In proud attire, in gorgeous gownes. 
 Though ftiee loue moft the countrie ground, 
 And fhunnes the great and wealthy townes. 
 
 Yet if you know a bird fo bafe, 
 
 In this Deuice fhe hath to place. 
 
 Was Greekifla dame twice ten yeares chaft. 
 
 Did fhe twice fiftie flat deny .' 
 
 Auifa hath Ten thoufand '^z.^. 
 
 To thoufands daily doth reply. 
 If your Auifa haue a blot, 
 Your owne it is, we know her not. 
 
 » Chaftity is 
 the gift of 
 " God. 
 
 True Chafti- 
 ty is fooner 
 and oftner 
 found in the 
 pooreft then 
 in the richeft. 
 
 Chaftity is 
 
 daily affaul- 
 )) ted a thou- 
 
 fand wayes 
 " yet it ftill 
 i> getteth the 
 
 viftorie. 
 
 Some 
 
 153 
 
136 The Vi^ory of 
 
 „ Some greatly doubt your Grecian dame 
 „ Where all be true that Poets faine : 
 „ But Chajlity who can for fhame, 
 „ Denie fhe hath, and will remaine. 
 „ Though women daily doe relent. 
 „ Yet this Auifa cannot faint. 
 
 „ She quels by Reafon filthy lujl, 
 The effefts » Shee chokes by Wifdome leude Defires, 
 of true Cha- „ Shee ftiunnes the baite that Fondlings truft, 
 „ From Sathans Heights fhe quite retires, 
 „ Then let Auifa' s prayfe bee fpread, 
 „ When rich and poore, when all are dead. 
 
 „ Let idle vaine, and Flewent Rigges, 
 
 „ Be Canton' de with eternall Ihame, 
 
 „ Let blowing buddes of bleffed twigges, 
 
 „ Let Chajl-Auifa Hue with fame : 
 
 „ This faid. Sweet Pallas takes her reft, 
 
 „ ludge Prince (quoth fhe) what you thinke beft. 
 
 The fen- But wife Rogero pawfing ftaid, 
 
 tence of^ff- Whofe filence feem'd to ftiew fome doubt, 
 
 /«w. ° Yet this at laft he grauely faid : 
 
 Ye Nimpltes that are fo faire, fo ftout, 
 Sith I your ludge to ludge muft be, 
 Accept in worth, this fhort decree. 
 
 „ The queftion is, where Grecian Ghojl, 
 „ Can ftaine the ftemme of Troyan rafe : 
 „ Where Ithac Nimphes may onely boaft, 
 „ And Brittijh Faith account as bafe, 
 „ Where old Penelops doubtfull fame, 
 „ Selfe Chajlity may put to (hame .' 
 
 154 
 
„ England for 
 Chaftitie 
 
 " may yet 
 
 „ compare 
 with any 
 
 " country in 
 
 ,, the world. 
 
 EngliJJi Cliajlity. 137 
 
 I count Vlyjfes happy Then, 
 
 I deeme our felues as happy Noiv, „ 
 
 His wife denide all other men, „ 
 
 I know them yet that will not bow, „ 
 
 For Chajlity I durft compare, „ 
 
 With Greece, with Rome, with who that dare „ 
 
 Our Englifh earth fuch Angels breeds, „ 
 
 As can difdaine all Forraine prayfe, 
 
 For Learning, Wit, iorfober Deeds, 
 
 All Europe Dames may learne their wayes : 
 
 Sith I of both may take my choyce, 
 
 Our Not-feene Bird fhall haue my voyce. 
 
 Siveete Chajlity Ihall haue my hand, „ 
 
 In England found, though rarely feene, „ 
 
 Rare Chajlitie, To this I ftand, „ 
 
 Is ftill as firme, as erft hath beene : „ 
 
 While this Auifa is the fhee, „ Concluiion. 
 
 This Chaji defire fhall ViBor be. „ 
 
 The Rofe appeares in Venus face, 
 Vermillion dies pale lunds cheekes, 
 They both doe blufli at this difgrace, 
 But luno chiefe, fomething miflikes, 
 
 As though fhe felt fome inward touch. 
 
 That for her Greeke had fpoke fo much. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Thomas Willohy Frater 
 Henrici Willoby nu- 
 per defunfti. 
 
 iSS 
 
140 
 
 The refolution of a Chaft and 
 
 a Conjiant Wife. 
 
 T Hough winged birds do often fcorne the lure, 
 And flying far, do thinke themfelues moft fure. 
 Yet fancie fo his luring engines frame. 
 That wildeft Harts in time become mofl: tame. 
 
 Where fecret nature frames a fweet confent. 
 Where Priuie fates their hidden force haue bent, 
 To ioyne in heart the bodies that are twaine, 
 Flie where you lift you ftiall returne againe. 
 
 From fancies lore, I ftriued ftill to flie. 
 Long time I did my fortune flat denie, 
 Till at the length my wreftling bred my woe, 
 Knowing that none their fortune can forgoe. 
 
 For while I liu'd in prime of vernant youth, 
 Falftiood that fliew'd the face of fained truth, 
 Falfely gan weaue a web of wylie kinde. 
 So to intrap my plaine and fimple mind. 
 
 Great were the fuits, great were the friendly fignes. 
 Sweet were the words, to poyfon tender minds. 
 Large were the gifts, great were the proffers made, 
 To force my mind to trie a truftleffe trade. 
 
 Great 
 
 156 
 
The refolution of a Chajl &c. 1 4 1 
 
 Great were the wights, that daily did confpire, 
 To plucke the rofe, their fancies did defire; 
 Traile did the teares, in hope to purchafe truft, 
 Yet this was all no loue, but luring luft. 
 
 No fancie could then force me to reply, 
 Nor moue my mind fuch doubtfuU deeds to try : 
 For well I knew although I knew not all, 
 Such tickle trades procure a fudden fall. 
 
 Thus did I mount, thus did I flye at will. 
 Thus did I fcape the fowlers painted skill. 
 Thus did I faue my feathers from their lime. 
 Thus did I Hue, a long and happy time. 
 
 Cupid, that great and mightie Kings could moue. 
 Could neuer frame my heart to like of loue. 
 His limber fhafts, and eke his golden dart. 
 Were ftill too blunt, to pierce my fteely hart. 
 
 Till at the length, as nature had affign'd, 
 Vnto the earth, I bent a willing mind : 
 He was the firft, to whom I gaue my hand. 
 With free confent, to Hue in holy band. 
 
 Eua that gaue her faithfull promife fo. 
 
 With Adam to liue in wealth and in woe. 
 
 Of faithfull heart could neuer haue more ftore, 
 
 Then I haue felt, thrice three yeeres fpace and more. 
 
 When I had giu'n my heart and free confent, 
 No earthly thing could make me once repent, 
 No feas of griefe, no cares that I could find, 
 Could fo preuaile, to make me change my mind. 
 
 L Did 
 
 157 
 
142 The refolution of a 
 
 Did fortune fawne, or did our fortune frowne, 
 Did he exalt, or did he cafh me downe, 
 My faithfull heart did euer make me fmg, 
 Welcome to me what euer fortune bring. 
 
 Now when I thought all dangers had beene paft. 
 Of lawleffe futes, and futors at the laft ; 
 The trade, the time, the place wherein I Hue, 
 Vnto this Lampe, new oyle doe daily giue. 
 
 But like of this all you that loue to range, 
 My fixed heart likes not the skittifh change, 
 Now haue 1 made the choyce that fhall remaine. 
 Vengeance befall when I doe change againe. 
 
 Now haue I found a friend of high defert, 
 I haue his loue, and he hath ftolne my heart, 
 Now fortune packe with all thy pelting ftore. 
 This is my choyce, I like to chufe no more. 
 
 Ceafe then your fuites, you lufty gallants all 
 Thinke not I ftoope at euery Faulkners call, 
 Truffe vp your lures, your luring is in vaine, 
 Chofen is the Pearch, whereon I will remaine. 
 
 Spend not your breath in needleffe fained talkes, 
 Seeke other mates, that loue fuch rouing walkes, 
 None fhall ere vaunt, that they haue my confent, 
 Then let me reft, for now I am content. 
 
 Great be your birth, and greater be your wealth, 
 I reckon more my credit and my health. 
 Though I be weake, my power very fcant, 
 God fo prouides that I fhall neuer want. 
 
 Be 
 
 158 
 
Chajle and conjlant Wife. 14J 
 
 Be mine owne at home, or be he abfent long, 
 Abfent or prefent this ftill fhall be my fong, 
 Fortune my friend, a friend to me hath lent. 
 This is my choyce, and therewith am content. 
 
 Range they that lift, and change who euer will, 
 One hath mine oath, and his I will be ftill, 
 Now let vs fall, or let vs rife on hie. 
 Still will I fmg, now well content am I. 
 
 L2 The 
 
 159 
 
144 
 
 The prayfe of a contented 
 
 minde. 
 
 THe God that fram'de the fixed Pole, 
 And Lampes of gleaming light, 
 The azure skies, and twinkling ftars, 
 
 To yeeld this pleafant fight ; 
 In wifedome pight this peereleffe plot, 
 
 A rare furpaffing frame. 
 And fo with braue and fweet delights, 
 
 Hath fraught and deckt the fame, 
 That euery creatures keepe his courfe. 
 
 His compaffe and his place, 
 And with delightfull ioyes outrunnes, 
 
 His pointed time and race. 
 In one confent they friendly ioyne, 
 
 From which they cannot fall. 
 As if the Lord hath firft: ordain'd. 
 
 One foule to guide them all. 
 In euery part there doth remaine. 
 
 Such loue and free confent, 
 That euery frame doth kiffe his lot. 
 
 And cries I am content. 
 The Artike Pole that neuer moues. 
 
 By which the fhipmen fayle, 
 Craues not to change his frozen Axe, 
 
 Nor from his place to fbeale. 
 The fixed ftarres, that feldome range. 
 
 Delight their circles fo. 
 That from their choyce by wanton change, 
 
 They neuer yeeld to go. 
 
 The 
 
 1 60 
 
The prayfe of a contented mind. 1 4 5 
 
 The Sunne and Moone that neuer hide, 
 
 Their braue refplendent rayes. 
 Did neuer wifli in wauering will, 
 
 To change their wonted wayes. 
 The Roaring Sea, with Ebbes and tides. 
 
 That leapes againft the land, 
 Is yet content for all his rage. 
 
 To ftay within his band. 
 The Acting Fifh, the finging Bird, 
 
 All beafts with one confent, 
 To Hue according to their kind. 
 
 Doe fliew themfelues content. 
 So that by pradlice and by proofe. 
 
 This fentence true I find. 
 That nothing in this earth is like, 
 
 A fweete contented mind. 
 The Beaftes, the Birds, and ayrie powers, 
 
 Doe keepe their compaffe well. 
 And onely man aboue the reft, 
 
 Doth loue for to rebell. 
 This onely man the Lord aboue. 
 
 With reafon did indue. 
 Yet onely man, vngratefull man. 
 
 Doth fhew himfelfe vntrue. 
 No fooner was braue Adam made. 
 
 But Sathan wrought his thrall, 
 For not content, afpiring pride 
 
 Procur'd his fudden fall. 
 The princely Primrofe of the Eaft, 
 
 Proud Eua gaue confent. 
 To change her bliffe to bale, for that 
 
 Her minde was not content. 
 
 K 3 Thus 
 
 161 
 
146 Theprayfe of a 
 
 Thus may the darkeft eye perceiue, 
 
 How folly ftrikes vs blind, 
 Thus may we fee the often change, 
 
 Of mans vnconftant mind. 
 The Moone, the Sea, by natures courfe. 
 
 Do not fo often change, 
 As doe the wits and wanton wills, 
 
 Of fuch as loue to range. 
 The wrangling range that held from home 
 
 Vlyjfes all too long, 
 Made chafte Penelope complaine. 
 
 Of him that did her wrong. 
 She loathfome dayes, and lingring nights. 
 
 Her time in fpinning fpent : 
 She would not yeeld to change her choyfe, 
 
 Becaufe flie was content. 
 Such calme content doth plainely fliew, 
 
 That loue did much abound, 
 Where free confent breeds not content. 
 
 Such faith is feldome found. 
 For careleffe Cryjid that had giu'n, 
 
 Her hand, her faith, and heart, 
 To Troylus her trufty friend, 
 
 Yet falfely did depart : 
 And giglot like from Troy towne, 
 
 To Grecians campe would goe. 
 To Diomede, whom in the end. 
 
 She found a faithleffe foe. 
 For hauing fliu'd the gentle flip. 
 
 His loue was turn'd to hate. 
 And Ihee a leper did lament, 
 
 But then it was too late. 
 
 Now 
 
 162 
 
Contented mind. 1 4 7 
 
 Now foolifli fancie was the caufe, 
 
 This Cryfid did lament. 
 For when flie had a faithful! friend, 
 
 She could not be content. 
 Ten thoufand fell at Troyes fiege, 
 
 Whofe bloud had not beene fpent, 
 If fickle headed Hellen could, 
 
 At firft haue beene content. 
 You cannot in the Serpents head, 
 
 Such deadly poyfon find, 
 As is the fained loue that lines. 
 
 With difcontented mind. 
 Of all the wifedome of the wife, 
 
 That I could euer tell, 
 This wifedome beares the chiefeft fway, 
 
 To ftay when we be well. 
 As fweeteft Muficke rudely iarres. 
 
 Except there be confent : 
 So hotteft loue doth quickly coole, 
 
 Except it be content. 
 Of all the braue refounding words, 
 
 Which God to man hath lent, 
 This foundeth fweeteft in mine eare, 
 
 To fay, / am content. 
 
 Euer or neuer. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 163 
 
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 16. Miscellaneous Works of George Wither. Reprinted from the Original Editions^ 
 
 Third Collection. j- 
 
 For the Bigfdk Year 18^-^,51 > 
 
 17. Belved&e; or, The Garden of the Muses. By John Bodenham. Reprinted 
 
 from the Original Edition of I fipQ. 
 
 18. Miscellaneous Works of George Wither, Reprinted from the Original Editi&nsi 
 
 Fourth Collection. 
 
 For the JSfintM Year 18^75-6. 
 
 19. Work's of John Taylor the Water Poet, not included in the Folio Volume of 
 
 1,630. Reprinted ffom the Original Editions. Third Collection. 
 
 20. The Worthines of Wales. By Thomas , Churchyard, Reprinted;, froni the 
 
 origwtaji edition . of 1587. > , : -; 
 
 For the Tenth Year 1876-7. 
 
 21. Works of John Taylor the W%er J'oet, not jpcluded in the Folio Volume of 
 
 1630.' Reprinted from the Origin^ Editions. Fourth CoUeftipn, 
 .22. Miscellaneous Works of George Wither^ Rgprintjed from the Original Editions. 
 Fifth ColkciiBrif •'•■■' 
 
LIST OP PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 t,sui For the Eleventh Year iZ']']-^. 
 
 23. Thule, or Vertues HistoriCi By Francis Rous. Reprinted from the Original 
 
 Edition of 1598. ' , ^^ 
 
 24. Miscellaneous Works of George^itfaer. Reprinted fecWi the Origiiiail Editions. 
 
 Sixth Collection. ' ' 
 
 25. Works of John Taylor. the Water Poet, not included in tjie Folio Volume of 
 ,^ 1630. Reprinted from the Original Editions. Fifth .Collection. 
 
 For the Twelfth Year 1878-9. 
 
 a6. Halelviah or Britans Second Remembrancer (1641.) By George Wither. 
 Parti. 
 
 27. Halelviah or Britaiis Second Remembrancer. Parts II. and III. 
 
 For the Thirteenth Year tS/g'So. 
 
 28. Britain's Remembrancer. _By, George Wither. Part I. 
 
 29. Britain's JR.emembfancer. |§^m|/Z 
 
 For the Fourteenth Year 1 880-1. 
 
 30. The Hymn^s and Songs of the Church. By George Wither. 
 
 31. The Psalms of David translated into Lyrick-verse. By George Wither. Part I. 
 
 For the Fifteenth Year 188 1-2. 
 
 32. The Psalms of David translated into Lyrick-verse. By George Wither, Part II. 
 
 33. Paralellogrammaton. By George Wither. -^ 
 
 34. Exercises vpon the First Psallne. By George Wfmer. 
 
 For the Sixteenth Year, 1882-^. 
 
 35. A Fig for Fortune. By Anthonie Copley. . \ 
 
 36. Respublica AngUcana or the Historie of the Parliament. By George Wither. 
 
 37. A Preparation to the Psalter. By George Wither. 
 
 For the Seventeenth Year, ;i 883-4. 
 
 38. The Mirrour of Good Maners. By Alexander Barclay. • 
 
 39. Certayne'EglogeiSk By Alexander Barclay. 
 
 40. The Great Assises Holderi in Parnassus by Apollo and his Assessovrs. 
 
 41. Vaticinium Votivum ; or, Palseraon's Prophetick Prayer. 
 
 For the Eighteenth Year, 1884-5. 
 
 4)j. Willoby his Avisa : or the true Picture of a modest Maid j and of a chast and 
 constant wife. 
 
 Printed by Charles Sinuns & Co., Mancheitet. 
 
^^^ :r< 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■^\\.\J.