CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY WiLLARD FiSKE Endowment •Cornell University Library PR1105.R7 1873 The hystorie of the moste noble knight P 3 1924 013 363 597 DATE DUE — --^ GAYLORD PRINTED IN U.S A. The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013363597 THE HYSTORIE OF THE MOSTE NOBLE KNIGHT PLASIDAS. AND OTHER RARE PIECES. THE HYSTOEIE OP THE MOSTE NOBLE KNIGHT PLASIDAS, AND OTHER RARE PIECES; COLLECTED INTO ONE BOOK BY SAMUEL PEPYS, AND FORMING PART OE / T^E PEPYSIAN LIBRARY AT MAGDALENE COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. PETNTED FOE THE 3S.oj;burg|)t Club* LONDON: J. B. NICHOLS AND SONS, 25, PAELIAMENT STEEET. MDCCCa^XXIII. E.V. (105 /?13 Ct)| 3aojciJurgf)e Clut). MDCCCLXXm. THE DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH AND QUEENSBERRY, K.G. PRESIDENT. HIS EXCELLENCY MONSIEUR VAN DE WEYER. MARQUIS OP LOTHIAN. EARL OF CARNARVON. EARL OP POWIS, r.F. EARL BEAUCHAMP. EARL OF CAWDOR. EARL OF DUPFERIN, K.C.B., K.P. LORD HOUGHTON. LORD ORMATHWAITE. SIR STEPHEN RICHARD GLYNNE, BART. SIR EDWARD HULSE, BART SIR WILLIAM STIRLING MAXWELL, BART. HENRY BRADSHAW, ESQ. REV. WILLIAM EDWARD BUCKLEY. PAUL BUTLER, ESQ. REV. WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK. REV. HENRY 0CTAVIU8 COXE. FRANCIS HENRY DICKINSON, ESQ. GEORGE BRISCOE EYRE, ESQ. THOMAS GAISPORD, ESQ. HENRY HUCKS GIBBS, ESQ. GRANVILLE LEVESON GOWER, ESQ. RALPH NEVILLE GRENVILLE, ESQ. Treasurer. JOHN BENJAMIN HEATH, ESQ. KIRKMAN DANIEL HODGSON, ESQ. ROBERT STAYNER HOLFORD, ESQ. ALEX. JAMES BERESFORD HOPE, ESQ. HENRY HUTH, ESQ. JOHN COLE NICHOLL, ESQ. EVELYN PHILIP SHIRLEY, ESQ. EDWARD JAMES STANLEY, ESQ. SIMON WATSON TAYLOR, ESQ. GEORGE TOMLINE, ESQ. CHARLES TOWNELEY, ESQ. REV. EDWARD TINDAL TURNER, CHARLES WYNNE FINCH, ESQ. PEEFACE. The volume which, is here reprinted, by the kind permission of the Master and Fellows of Magdalene College, Cambridge, forms part of the Pepysian Library, and bears at the beginning and end the two bookplates of its donor, one being his own portrait, and the other his cypher. These plates, as weU as the title-pages of the five principal pieces contaiaed in it, and also the cover of the book with his arms stamped on the side, it has been thought well to reproduce in f ac-simile, thus adding to the interest of the reprint. The volume is composed of the following pieces bound up together : I. The worthie Hystorie of Plasidas (1566), by John Partridge. II. The Historic of the Lady Pandavola (1566), by John Par- tridge. III. The History of the Lady Lucres of Scene (Sienna), and of her lover Eurialus. IV. The Northren Mother's Blessing. V. The Way to Thrift. VI. The Life and Death of Sir John Oldcastle, Knight (1601) » by John Weever. Of these. No. V. is in prose, the rest in verse ; No. VI. in Roman, the others in English letter. No. I. is the story of the life, acts, and martyrdom of Saint Eustace, a patron saint of hunters, who, under his pagan name of Placidus, was a captain of the Roman guard, and was converted to Christianity by a vision of our blessed Lord, who appeared to him while hunting "a huge and lofty Bucke," and commanded him to forsake his idols. The story, which was very popular, may be found in Caxton's b U PREFACE. Golden Legend (fo. 331 v°. 1st edition), and also in chap. ex. of the Gesta E-omanorum. In the English version of the latter book, pub- lished by the Club, the Emperor Trajapus of the Latin tale becomes the Emperor Avorios, and the knight Placidus figures only as "a certain knight," unnamed, and unidentified with Saint Eustace. Mr. Collier, who reprinted the present poem in 1866, has given in his Bibliographical Catalogue (fol. ii. p. 117) a pretty full account of it ; and in his Extracts from the E-egister of the Sta- tioners' Company we find the licence for its printing, as follows : E* of Thomas hackett, for his lycense for prynting of " an history of the mooste noble kynge plasadas, &c iiij d. Of No. II. Collier could give no account, never having seen it. It teUs of Pandavola, the fair daughter of Sylewma the King of Turkey, whose " comly corps " the people thronged from aU parts to see ; of her love for Alfyne, a knight of low estate, and of their tragic deaths. The following is the licence for printing this book : E* of Thomas Purfoote for his lycense for the pryntinge of the moost famose history of the worthy lady pandavolay, &c. .... iiij d. The story appears to be a translation from a foreign work, for Partridge, in some dedicatory verses addressed to Thomas Baynam, says he has this story brought Unto our Tulgar speche. but I can find no trace of the original. These verses follow the poem, and are themselves followed by two other short pieces, one in praise of friendship, the other in dispraise of flattery. The poetry of these works of Partridge is but poor ; they are, however, worth preserving, not for their own merits but as a specimen of what was thought good enough to entertain our forefathers. No. III. is told much better in prose than the two former are in verse, and is indeed written with some power ; reading like a Btory from Boccaccio. PREFACE. Ill Its original author was*^neas Sylvius Piccolomini, afterwards Pope Pius II., himself a Sieunese, who wrote in 1443 this " Opus- culum de duobus amantibus Eurialo et Lucresia." * The Spanish (12,491 d.), 4to, 1512, is entitled, " Historia muy verdadera de dos amantes Eurialo Pranco y Lucrecia Senesa que acaescio en la cibdad de Sena en el aiio de Mil & cccc & xxxiiij, anos en presencia del emperador Padrique : fecha por Eneas sUuio que despues fue elegido papa Uamado Pio Segundo." The colophon is "Pin del presente tratado d'los dos amantes Eurialo franco y Lucrecia senesa. Pue impreso en la muy noble y muy leal cibdad de SeuiUa por Jacobo croberger, Ano de mill q'nientos y doze. A, xxviij. de Julio." The German version (12,403 c.) is contained in thirty-seven leaves 4to, and is illustrated with nineteen coloured woodcuts (of which one is employed twice over,) representing various points in the story. They are so quaint that it has been thought well to insert fac-similes of them in the present volume. The first of them, with its border and initial letter (a reversed doing duty for a D) heads the next page, and represents the translator, Nicholas von Wyle (or his messenger), presenting his book to his patroness, the opening words being * This novel was very popular in its day, as may be supposed from the fact'that no less than twenty-eight fifteenth-century editions are mentioned by Hain, in his Kepertorium Bibliographicum (1826, vol. i. pt. 1, p. 25), as still extant, besides eight translations of the same century, three into Italian, two into German, and three into French; one of the latter being " Translate du latin en francoys par maistre Antithus chappellain de la saincte chappelle aux ducz de bourgogne a la priere et requeste des dames," and another, a poetical paraphrase, of which a copy is in the British Museum. It is supposed to be by Octavien de St. Gelais. The same library possesses several early Latin editions, amongst which are A° 1476 Argentine (Granville 9,274); 1490 (?) Cologne (?) pressmark 3,835 1; 1497 Venice (12,450 d.); as well as one of the year 1648 in Vincent Obsopsus's book, De Arte Bibendi, &c. The Museum has also one of the German translations mentioned by Hain, and other Spanish and Italian versions. Of the 1476 text (which is not mentioned by Hain) a reprint will be found in an appendix to the preface. 62 er durchleuchtigen liocli gebomen Eiirstin und frawen f raw katherinen, Herzogin von osterreicli margrevin zu Baden, &c. und greyin zu Spanheim meiner gnedigsten frawen entbeut ich niclaus von wyle der zeit statsckreiber zu Essliagen mein under- thenig willig dienst zuvor. He dates bis dedication "Geben zu J Esslingen auff Esto mibi,* Anno domini M.cccc.lxij." Tben follows the author's dedication to Count Schlick : " Dem hochgeachten und volgebom Bitter herren Cas- pem Schlicken herren des Nuwenbuxg keyserlichem Cantzler und houbtman zu Eger uii zu de Elenpogen seinem besundem herren entbeut[e]t Eneas SUuius poet und keiserliche Secretari vil und * Probably auffegto michi, i. e. Michaelmas. *Vo. 1. To face page w. THE TRANSLATOR PRESENTS HIS WORK TO THE MARGRAVINE OF BADEN, HIS PATRONESS. PREFACE. V enpfilcht heils sich im. Marid!hus Sosinus mein lantzmart von Senis burtig ein mann so guttig und so grosser kunst das ich zweifell ob ich seines geleichen ye gesehen habe, Hat mich dise tag her gebetten das ich im schreyb zwei lieb habende mensohen." The colophon states the book to be " Greben zu Wyen 5 nones Julij, 1477." Besides the early Italian translations mentioned by Hain there was one published in Venice by Matthias Pagan in 1554; and another in Daelli's Bibliotheca Rara, 1864. Both these are in the British Museum. The French work of Octavien de St. Gelais consists of some 4,850 lines, beautifully printed by Antoine Verard, about 1493, on 92 leaves of vellum ; the first of which has a large miniature, representing the author presenting his work to King Charles the Eighth. A fac-sinule wiU be found as a frontispiece to the present volume. There are also 129 smaller miniatures very well executed, but, as may be supposed from the number, compared with the length of the story, not aU of them depicting incidents clearly distinguishable one from the other. Thus, one represents Eurialus writing a letter to Lucrece ; another, Lucrece receiving it ; another, Lucrece, with the forefinger of one hand on the forefinger of the other, considering what she shall say in answer. Another shews " Cofnent Lucresse apperceut Euria? et parla a lui " (fo. 38) ; and the next " Coment Eurial' parla a Lucresse " (fo. 38v"); the two miniatures being almost exactly the same (much like No. 10 in the German set), only with a different action of the hands of the speakers. Two others (and these are two of the best in the book) show " Comet Sozie mist Euriar dedens une estable parmy du fein et comment il fut presq^ trouve par dromo page neust este Sozias" (fo. 59), and "Comet Lucresse amusa son mari en bas et le mena en la caue tant que EuriaP sen feust ale." (fo. 62 v°.) Manuscript notes on the margin of the pages, such as these above quoted, accompany and explain the miniatures, one of which, as a specimen of the style, has been given in fac-simile at p. 112. It is from fo. 61 of the Erench book. vi PREFACE. The first edition of the English translation is said to be that in the British Museum, a black-letter quarto (C. 21 c.) which Hazlitt dates c. 1549 : but Lowndes mentions one by W. Copland, of 1547, which may be either the same or an earlier edition, or else perhaps a mistake for that of 3567 here reprinted, which is also from Copland's press. There seems to be internal evidence that the Museum edition is not the first. It is too full of errors, and apparently errors of a copyist. See, amongst others, that pointed out in the note on p. 133, 1.16. Mr. Herry Huth has a copy of an edition of 1560, " The Excellent Historye of Euryalus and Lucretia " was licensed to T. Creede, October 19, 1596, but whether this was to be a reprint with a new title, or a new translation, is not known. Probably it was never printed, as Hazlitt mentions no copy, and there is none either in the British Museum or Bodleian. There are two other translations in the British Museum ; one (12 |Jt.), by Charles Allen, printed in 1639, and another, in a volume (12,510 b.) containing also the Story of Hyppohtus, Earl of Douglas (1741), and the Secret History of Macbeth. It is entitled : " The Art of Love, or the History of the Amours of Count Schlick, Chancellor to the Emperor Sigismund, and a Young Lady of Quality of Sienna. By ^neas Sylvius, Poet Laureat, and Secre- tary to the same Emperor, afterwards Pope Pius the Second. London, 1741." In the preface to the work the translator says There is yet another adrantage which our Author has above the Monsieurs in writing on a real not fictitious story. For though he gires his Lovers the names of Eurialns and Lucretia, it is plain from a passage * in his Epistle Dedicatory to the Count of Schlick that he drew his picture from the true Adventures of that Lord." * The passage is as follows : " The affair happened at Sienna, during the abode of the Emperor Sigismund in that City; you was there at the same time, and if I may believe my Ears, you bestowed some of your Time and Address in Love. It is the City of Venus. Your Friends, who know PREFACE. VU A very full account of the book and its story is given by Mr. Eurnivall in his preface to " Captain Cox, or Laneham's Letter," (p. xxxviii.) printed in 1871 for the Ballad Society. It is the story of the beautiful Lucres of Sienna and her lover Eurialus, a knight " of the centre of Prancony " in the train of the Emperor Sigismund; and tells how that her husband Menelaus meets the fate of his Spartan namesake, and loses the love of his too fair wife ; how that Eurialus supplants him by the help of his trusty friend Nisus, and of " Pandalus," cousin to Menelaus, and in spite of the vigilance of Agamemnon, Menelaus's brother ; and how that Eurialus, called to Rome by his lord the Emperor, is forced to leave his love, who shortly after dies of grief ; and himself, though married by the Emperor " to a ryghte noble and excellent ladye, yet never enioyed after, but in conclusyon pitifully wasted his painful life." The Erench version, following the original, makes him a less doleful end. The concluding lines are Jusqu a ce que cesar souTerains Une femme lui donna chaste et tendre Du sang estoit dun noble due venue La plaisante femme espousa Belle chaste et prudente teliue Sage hems estoit: moult lama et prisa Bs oraisons quil faisoit tousiours a De la bonne Lucresse remembrace C'il q' le corps a ame noublira Lame jamais sil a bonne prudence. In the original there is a short Envoy or moral, of which the you well, say that you were then much in Love, and that no Body was more gallant than yourself; and believe that there was no Amour past at that Time that you had not some Knowledge of. I therefore desire you to read over this History, and see whether I have wrote Truth or not ; blush not if it call to your Mind any Transactions of yours that were like these, since you were a Man, and therefore subject to the Frailty of Man. He who was never in love, is either a Stone or a Beast " — " oder ein unvernunftiges tier." (German version.) yiii PREFACE. following Prenchi lines are a translation, and to them the translator adds a moral of his own. * Le Pape pre Mon cher ami Marianus tu as Pte nor Icy la fin du liure des amans me enee sil Lamour nen est fait ne eureux se bien as uie, anctenr . decelinre,po'' Par tout vise; ce te suis aflermans d^e son ^r^^e Q^i ce liure liront silz sont savans dit a Marian" gg garderont de choir en telz perilz flirige. Le breuage damours ne soiet beuans Ou dalors plus que miel est mis. Le Translateur. Histoire q' ay cy deuant translatee Se p' bon sens on la vault digerer Et qu il ne soit quen bien interpreter A p'sonne ne veult mal suggerer Toute vertu et bien veult ingerer Peche finir et faictz p'nicieux. The Envoy of the English translation which I add from Mr. Huth's copy of the edition of 1560, appears not to have formed part of the present edition. It points the moral of the story, showing that the joys of love — unlawful love is meant — of which the future Pope gives a somewhat graphic description, are surpassed hy its sorrows. Lb a to the Keder. Bi tbys lytle tbou mayst perceyue my fred The end of loue not fayned nor fortunable, By which right plaJynly thou mayst entend ' ' That loue is no pleasure, but a pain pardurable, And the end is deth which is most lamentable. Therfore, ere thou be chayned with such care, By others' peryls take hede and beware. * A MS. note by the side of the text, in the same hand as the others which are found in almost every page, explaining the miniatures. -Vo. 3. To face page \yi. THE TRANSLATOR I'RESENTS HIS BOOK TO POPE PIUS THE SECOND. PREP ACE. ix Fyrst by Eurialus, by whome perceyue thou maist The best it is to eschue shortelye To drynke of the cup, or of it to taste That savoured more of gall than of hony. Also I coulde shewe the hystoryes of many That yf they by tyme had made resystance They myght hare eschued all such inconvenience. There was also the noble Troylus Whych all hys lyfe abode in mortall payne Delayed by Cresyde whose hystory is pyteous, Tyll at the last Achilles had hym slayne. Yet other there be, whych in this careful chaine Of loue have contynned all theyr lyfe dayes. Death was their end, there was non other waies. We redde also Piramis and thysbe Whych slew them selfe by theyr feruent loue, Of Hercules, and of the fayre ioyle, Wyth many other, whiche I coulde not attaine. And of Dido, whiche wyth her selfe stroue For love of Eneas wha she coulde not attaine, Tyll at the laste she had her selfe slaine. Yet coulde I shewe you of many other mo Yf leyser not wanted, but now I letiit pas, Whiche by theyr love were constrayned also To mortal death, more pitye, alas ! Therfore thys boke in English draws was For an example, therby to eschew The paynes of love ere after they it rewe. In the woodcut annexed (No. 3 of the German series) we see the translator presenting his work to its author, Pope Pius himself, who was still on the throne, and did not die till two years after the date of the translation. The bystanders appear to be remonstrating with him on his temerity, but he persists, and His Holiness receives the homage graciously. jEneas Sylvius did not, however, look back with satisfaction on this work of his, which, while it professes to be a dissuasive from unlawful love, is so, not at all on the score of its immorality, but of c X PREFACE. its dangers and its hapless end; and portrays only too well the unscrupulous morals of the age and country in which he lived ; and as he, when Pope, condemned, in his Bulla Retractationis, the anti- papal opinions which as Imperial Secretary he had professed, so, in like manner, in his more advanced years, he was ashamed of and condemned this and any other writings of his youth which had an immoral tendency. Nicolaus Beets, in his work " De ^neae Sylvii morum mentisque mutationis rationibus " (Haarlem, 1839, p. 11) writes as foUows : " Etenim animadvertendum est-Pium quum (a. 1463) in Bulla Betractationum scriberet ' Aeneam rejicite, Pium suscipite ' morum non miaus quam sententise politicas mutationem respexisse, ut et inde apparet, quod eadem formula ia utraque causa utatar. Voluptatibus enim nimium indulserat juvenis ; nunc senex scribit Carolo Cypraeo, (Koelhoff, Cologne, MCCCCL[xx]viii, p. 352.) "De amore igitur quae scripsimus juvenes contemnite, non morales * atque respuite ; sequimini quae nunc dicimus et seni magis quam juveni credite. Nee privatum hominem pluris facite quam Pontifi- cem ; ^neam rejicite, Pium suscipite ; illud gentile nomen parentes indidere nascenti, hoc Christianum in Apostolatu suscepimus ;" and in the note, " Spectat haec, quam citavimus Epistola, Carolo Cypraeo scripta, Tractatum de duobus amantibus sive narrationem de Eurialo et Jjucretia se amantibus, quam, petenti Mariano Sozimo amico scripserat Aeneas anno 1444, quum jam per duos annos Imperatori ab actis fuerat. Est sine dubio narratio satis lubrica, nee tamen plane bonis moribus noxia, quippe et eo consilio composita ut juvenes ab iUicito amori deterreat ; ' in amore autem quot lateant mala si quis aliimde nescit hinc poterit scire.' (Aeneae Prologus.) Nee non ei insunt argumentationes morales optimae frugis. Multa tamen lasciviore modo sunt proposita, quae sine dubio plus fecerunt ut celebratissima fieret haecce historiola, quae jam saec. xv. plures vidit editiones (Cf. Naaml. van boeken in der Nederl. gedurende de * mortales, 1551. PREFACE. XI 15"' eeuw gedrukt ; by P. van*Dummel, Amst. 1767, p. 2, 8, 15, 27, 56) quam quod inerat morale dogma. Doluit hoc Pius Secundus. Hinc scripsit in Epistola laudata duo contineri in eo libello, apertam videlicet sed lieu lascivam nimis prurientemque amoris historiam, et morale, quod earn sequitur, aedificans dogma. Quorum primum fatuos atque errantes videbat sectari quamplurimos, alterum, heu dolor, pene nullos. Ita impuratum esse atque offuscatum mortalium genus." The correct text of so much of the Epistle as relates to this subject will be found in the Appendix. Alessandro Bracci, in his translation of Lucres and Eurialus, Eirenze, 1489, recast the plot, with the intention but certainly not the effect of improving its morality. In Daelli's Bibliotheca Bara, 1864, vol. 38, there is an edition of Piccolomini's novel, and in the preface the editor says, " Alessandro Bracci non tradusse, ma rifece, o meglio guast6. Guast6 la testura dello stile framettendovi di suo frigidi versi e anche un sonetto bisticcio. Amor m'lia ratto retto e, spento, spinto Che senza sarte in sirte surto gemo Avanti a' vanti in pene tante tinto. Guast6 la favola facendo morir Menelao scambio di Lucrezia e sposarla in seconde nozze da Eurialo. Crede cosi legittimar I'adul- terio, e per esser piu morale, o com' egli dice piu jocundo, flnge che Lucrezia che non aveva mai conceputo di Menelao e neppur di Eurialo ne' suoi congiungimenti impudichi, avesse di costui, dopo i legittimi nodi, otto figliuoli, tutti maschi e formosi. Egli la fa sopravvivere tre anni ad Eurialo, che muore di settentacinqu' anni ! Questo egli chiama nella dedicatoria del suo Rifacimento a Lorenzo di Pier Erancesco de Medici continuare tutto il processo delta storia con cose piacevoli ejoconde! " I have corrected this 1567 edition by Mr. Huth's copy of that of 1560, and by the copy of the earlier edition in the British Museum (which last Mr. Eurnivall kindly collated for me), and these correc- c2 Xll PREFACE. tions, with others founded on a comparison with the original Latin, will be found in the notes. Xo. IV. is " The Northren Mother's Blessing ; " on which so much has been said by Mr. Furnivall in his " Forewords to the Babees Book, &c." (printed for the Early English Text Society,) p. Ixix. under its other title " How the Good Wijf Tau3te hir Dou3tir," and so much by Mr. Hazlitt in his " Early English Popular Poetry," vol. i. p. 178, that little more remains to be told, unless it be thought useful to add a comparison of the various versions of this popular piece, and, in order to make the present poem complete, to append a few stanzas which exist in the others but not in this. It contains, as its other title denotes, a mother's address to her daughter, advising her how she should walk in the paths of this life, especially as a wife, a mistress of a house, and a neighbour, if she would thrive and bear a good name. Our ancestors were somewhat prodigal of their advice to women, and often gave them, as in the present tract, very good advice. Thus, Eitzherbert, writing about 1530, gives in his Boke of Husbandry a world of good counsel. After the precepts of Hus- bandry proper he writes a " Prologue for the Wyues Occupation." "jS'ow thou husbande, that haste doone thy dylygence and labour that longeth to an husbande, to get thy lyuynge, thy wyues, thy chyldrens, and thy seruantes ; yet there are other thynges, that muste nedes be done or eUes thou shalte not thryue. Eor there is an olde common sayenge, that seldome dothe the husbande thryue withoute the leue of his wyfe. By this sayenge it shoulde seme, that there be other occupations and labours that be moste con- uenient for the wyues to do. And howe be it that I haue not the experyence of al theyr occupations and warkes, as I haue of hus- bandry, yet a lytteU wyl I speke, what they ought to do, though I tel them not howe they shidde doo, and exercyse theyr labours and occupations." Then he begins to give her a " Lesson for the Wyfe," quoting PREFACE. Xlll Solomon and Saint Jerome ; afid, after exhorting her to the love of her husband, he tells " What Warkes a Wyf e shulde do in generaU," beginning " Pirst, in a mornyng whan thou arte waked, and purposest to ryse, lyfte Tp thy hande, and blesse the, and make a sygne of the holy crosse, In nomine patris, et fllii, et spiritus sancti, Amen. In the name of the father, the sonne, and the holy gooste. And if thou saye a Paternoster, an Aue, and a Crede, and remember thy Maker, thou shalte spede moche the better." And then he goes on to teU her how she is to look after her house, her dairy, her children, her servants, her bakery, her brewery, her poultry, and her field and garden produce ; impressing upon both husband and huswife " Tene Mensuram," " Eate within thy Tedure," *. e. tether. It is an interesting and amusing book, and in some parts a good parallel to our poem. The other poems under this or like names differ so much in expression from the present piece and from one another, that they read more like translations or adaptations from some common original (perhaps written in 1391, " nine years before the death of Chaucer," as our title-page says ; perhaps much earlier) than mere variations under the hand of a copyist. See on p. xix the lines from the version in the Cambridge University MS., the author of which desires his readers to pray for him and for the maker of the book. Of the fellow-piece, " How the Wise Man tau3t his Son," we find the prototype, consisting of 189 Anglo-Saxon lines, in an Exeter MS. of the tenth century. See Thorpe's Codex Exoniensis, p. 300. It begins Dus frod feeder Freo-bearn Iserde, that is to say, " Thus a wise father his dear son taught ; " and ends Swa fu min beam gemyne Frode fseder-lare & pec a wis firenum gebeald. XIV PREFACE. " So thou my son remember wise fatherly lore and thyself aye against sins preserve." The " Wise Man" appears also to have been widely popular; he is mentioned in the Chartulary of Godstowe, p. 13. (E-awl. MS. B. 408). " The prologue of the englyssh register. The wyseman tawht hys chyld gladly to rede bokys and hem wett undurstonde, for in defaute of vndyrstondyng is ofttymes causyd neclygence, hurte, harme and hynderaunce, as experyens prevyth in many a place ; " and then the writer goes on to say, that, as Latin is too hard for women, but they ought to know what their documents are, he means to translate for them the history or charters of their nunnery. The several versions of the " Good Wife " which are now known, are 1. The present version ; from a MS. " Reserved long in the Studie of a Northfolke Gentleman," says J. S. who published it in 1597. 2. That in the Cambridge University, MS. KK. 1, 5. 3. That in St. John's CoUege (Cambridge) MS. G. 23. 4. That in the Ashmole MS. 61, fo. 7. 5. That in the Porkington MS. No. 10, fo. 135 v". 6. That in the Lambeth MS. 853, p. 102. 7. That ia the Trinity College (Cambridge) MS. E. 3, 19. 8. That in the Loscombe MS. They all show signs, more or less clear, of their Northern origin. No. 2 is printed in the Early English Text Society's issue for 1870, called " Ratis Eaving," p. 103 ; and is entitled " The Thewis of Gudwomen." It is written, says the editor, in the Lothian dialect, and begins The gud wjf schawls, fore best scho can, Quhilk/s ar thewis of gud women ; PEEPACE. XV Quhilkzs gar womere be haldin deir, And pouer women princz's peir; With sum 111 maneris and thewis That folowis ful women & schrewis. It describes, but not like most of the others in the form of an address to a daughter, what is a woman's duty to God and to her neighbour. It contains 316 lines. It is, perhaps, the same Rate, whose " Raving " we have in this book, who appears again in No. 4 (see p. xx). No. 3 is of the same type and contains 306 lines ; Mr. W. W. Skeat has kindly lent me a transcript of it for comparison. It is, he tells me, in Lowland Scottish, and was written out by a scribe named John de Ramsay, in 1487. It varies considerably from No. 2, both iu spelling and phrase- ology, and also in omission and addition of lines. I have marked in italics the differences in the first sis lines. The gud wiff schawls the best scho can Quhilk ar the thewis of a gud woman QuhilJc garxis women be haldin deir, And makis pouer women princis peir With sum ill tecMs and ill thewis That folZowis foidl women & schrewis. No. 4, " How ]?e Goode Wyfe taa3t hyr Dou3ter," consists of 208 lines, and is printed in the volume containing Sir H. Gilbert's " Queene Elizabeth's Achademy," issued in 1869 by the Early English Text Society (extra series viii. p. 44). No. 5 consists of 14 stanzas (168 lines), printed on p. 39 of the same volume, and is entitled, " The good wyfe wold a pyl- gremage.'' No. 6 has 31 stanzas (219 lines), and is printed, as before said, in "The Babees Book," beginning on the 36th page; and has, in the footnotes, the collation of No. 7, which contains 32 stanzas. No. 8, entitled " How the Goode Wif thaught hir Doughter," has 35 stanzas (175 lines), and was printed by Sir F. Madden in XVI PREFACE, 1838 ; and again by Mr. Hazlitt in 1864, (Early Popular Poetry, vol. i.) witli the addition of the opening stanza and some few readings from the 1597 printed text. It is in the opening stanza that the several versions mostly differ. Thus in No. 4 it runs Lyst and lythe A lytell space, Y shall you telle A praty cace, How })"= gode wyfe taught hyr' dou3tcr To mend hyr' lyfe, and make her' better. No. 5 begins The goode wyf wold a pylgremage unto ]}" holly londe : Sche sayd " my dere do3ttM?", f ou most vndor'stonde For to gowerne well this hous, and saue thy selfe frow schond. For to do as I ]j^ teche, I charge the J)ou fonde. Wztt an' & a ny, seyd hit ys full 3ore, That lothe childe lore behowytt, and leue childe moche more." The first stanza of No. 6 is The good wijf tau3te hir dou5tir Pul many a tyme & ofte A ful good womman to be, And seide " dou3tir to me dere, Sum good J)OU must lere If euere ))ou wolt Jiee." all the stanzas, but the first and last, ending " my leve childe." No. 7 varies but little. No. 8 omits the first stanza, and ends the others alternately " My dere childe " and " My leve childe." Stanzas 15, 16, and 27 of our poem are, with verbal variations. PUEPACE. XVU in Xo. 7, but not in No. 6 ; stanza 22 is represented in the Lambeth MS. by (St. 18.) And what so thy meyne do, about hem pou wende, And as myche as fou maist,* be at fat oow ende, And if ])0U fynde ony defaute, do it soone ameende So pei haue tyme and space, and may hem defends. To compelle a dede to be doone & fere be no space, It is hut tyrannye witA-out temperaurace & grace,f Mi leue child. See also stanza 17 of the same MS. on p. xix. Stanza 26 runs in the Lambeth MS. (St. 29.) Now haue y fee tau3t, dou3tir, As| my modir dide mee; finke feron § ny3t and day, for3ete fat it not be; || Haue mesure and lownes,^ as ** y haue fee tau3t, And If what man JJ fe wedde schal, him dare care nou3t.§§ Betere were a child vnbore fan vntau3t of wijs lore,|||| Mi leue child. Instead of stanzas 28 and 29 of the present poem, No. 6 has (St. 23.) Whanne fou art a wijf, a nei3bore for to be, Loue fan weel f i nei3boris, as god haf comaumdide fee ; It bihouef fee so for to do, And to do to fem as fou woldest be doon to. * No. 8, for " And .... mayst," reads Wilke dede f* schalle he done. f No. 8, for " So fei . . . . & grace," reads \_So\ ]>ei haue swichefor hem f' may hem defende Myhelle note hym he houethe to don f' house schalle holden. I No. 8, for " as," reads so. § No. 8, for " finke f eron," reads penh ]ier on hothe. II No. 8, for " fat it not be," reads nought ]>ise 'pre. % No. 8, for " and lownes,'' reads lowenesse 4r forthought. ** No 8, for " as," reads f*. tt No. 8 omits "And." J^ No. 8, for " what man fe," reads what man f* fe. §§ No. 8, for "him dare care nou3t," reads pan is he nought hycaught. Ill No. 8 omits " of wijs lore." d XVlll PREFACE. If ony discorde happen nyglit or daye, Make it no worse, meende it if J>ou maye, Mi leiie child. which is found in none of the other MSS. Stanzas 28 and 29 correspond to 26 and 27 in No. 8 ; and that version adds another stanza in this place which is peculiar to it. (St. '28.) Take eusaumple by hem, and lette alle folie, fat Jiou haue none defante, ne pey or ^e dyen, 3if God Jie sende children, Jjou hast fe more to done, fey askyn grete dispens, here warisone fei wille haue soik', Care he hathe f' childryn schalle kepe, my leue childe. No. 7, in place of the same two stanzas 28 and 29, and of st. 30 (st. 24 in No. 6), has its st. 23 and 24, which correspond in sense to our st. 19 and 27 ; and the following (25) which is neither in ours nor in No. 6. (St. 25 ) * With ryche Eoobys and garlondes, and with ryche f thyng, Counterfete | no lady as thy hosbond § were a kyng. With suche as he may the ayde,|| apayde shalt J)ow be, That no countenaiwjoe be lost for cause If of thee : Ouyrdone pryde maketh nakyd syde. My leef chylde. Stanza 21 is represented by 16 and part of 17 of No. 6. (St. 16.) And if fin husbonde ** be from home, lete not fi nieyne H goon ydil. But loke weel who doof mychc eif«r litil,:j:| * Collier in his edition of No. 8 prefixes go not to this line; but the sense does not need it. •f No. 8, for " with ryche,'' reads swiche. I No. 8 prefixes ne to this line. § No. 8, for " hosbond," reads loi-de. II No. 8, for " ayde," resAs fynde. f No. 8, for " That .... thee," reads fai he lees noght his manhed for fe loue of]>e. ** No. 8 reads lorde. ■fj No. 8, for " J)i meyne," reads hem. 11 No. 8, for "But ... . litil," reads Lohe y ]iou ivete icele, ho do mekylle or lytelle. PEEFACE. XIX And lie Jjat weel iboj), fou qwite * liim weel his whyle, And he fat dooj? o]>er, serue him as ])e vile, A forn doon dede Wole anojjer spede, Mi leiie child.f (St. 17.) And if fi nede be greet & ]>[ tyme streite, fare I go fi silf \>erto & worche § an houswijfes brayde, fanne wille fei alle do fe bettir fat aboute fee stande[s] || f e work is the sonner do fat haf many handis, For manye handis & wight Make an heuy worke light ; After fi good seruise fi name schal arise, Mi leue childe.if Our final stanza does not appear in any of the others, and in lieu of it No. 2 has And here I pray ye redarjs all And als ye herarts, gret and small, That ay, qnhen at thai one it luke, They pray for hyme that maid the buk ; And fore al crystyrane man, and me ; Amen, Amen, for clierytte. which is lacking in No. 3. No. 4 has Ther' for' all' my3hty god Inne troue Spede vs Alk, both euera and morne ; * No. 8 reads f ' hathe wele done, ^elde + No, 8, for " And he fat doof .... child," reads He dothe an o\er tyme ]>e bette but he be a vijle, A dede well done herte it whemyth, my dere childe. I Omitted in No. 8. § No. 8 lias make. II No. 8 has All pei schalle do \e letter, f* \ou hi hem standes. ^ No. 8, for " f e work schal arise," has many handys make light werke, my leue childe. d2: XX PBEyACB. And bringe vs to thy hyjhe blysse, That Tieuer more fro vs schall mysse Amen, quod Rate.* No. 5 ends (St. 14.) Far-well dou3ttMr, far-well nowe ! I go vn-to my pylgremage; Kepe pe wel on' my blessynge tyl J)ou be more of a[gej, let no merth ner' JoUyte fis lesson frowe fe swage; Thera fou schalt have f ' blys of heyvyn to thy errytage. Witt a O and a I, dojttwr, pray for' me ; A schort prayer' wyjinythe heyvyn', the patter noster and an' ave, Amen. The last two stanzas of No. 6 (Lambeth) stand in the place of the last stanza of the Northren Mother's Blessing, and are as follows : (St. 30.) Now frift and feedom mote J>ou haue my swete barn,| Of alle oure former fadris )?at euere were or aren, Of alle patriarkis and prophetis fat euere weren alyue, Her blessinge mote pou haue, and weel mote fou Jiriue ! For weel is the child yat wif synne wole not be filid. Mi leue child.| (which corresponds to the last stanza of Nos, 7 and 8.) (St. 31.) The blessynge of God mote fou haue, and of his modir brijt, Of alle auragils & of alle archauregils, and of alle holy wight * The title also of No. 4 is followed by the words " quod Rate," and in both cases it is misprinted Kate. ■f No. 8 reads my leue swete barn, I No. 8, for " J)at wi> . . . . leue child," reads ]>a< ],ryue may my dere child. PREFACE. Xxi And fat fou nipwe haue grace to wende ]je wey ful ri3t To pe blis of heuene fere sittif god almyjt, Amen. A harmony of the stanzas of four of the versions of the Northren Mother's Blessing. No. 1. 1597. No. 6. Lambeth. No. 7. Trin.CoU. No. 8. Loscombe. No. 1. 1597. No. 6. Lambeth. No. 7. Trin. CoU. No. 8. Loscombe. • 1 Stanza. Stanza. Stanza. Stanza. 19 Stanza. 25 Stanza. 23 Stanza. 19 — 1 1 — 20 15 15 20 2 2 2 1 0, i 16 16 21 3 3 3 2 21 j 17 17 22 4 4 4 3 22 18 18 23 5 5 5 4 23 19 26 24 6 6 6 5 24 26 27 32 7 7 7 6 25 20 28 33 8 8 8 7 26 29 31 34 9 9 9 8 27 — 24 25 10 10 10 9 28 — — 26 11 11 11 10 29 — — 27 12 12 12 11 — 23 — — 13 13 13 12 — — — 28 14 14 14 13 80 24 — 29 15 — 19 14 31 28 30 30 16 — 20 15 32 27 29 31 17 21 21 16 33 — — — 18 22 22 17 — 30 32 35 — — 25 18 — 31 — — No. v., The Way to Thrift, is a short piece of 71 lines. It teaches by contraries, and might rather be called A Lamentation oyer Unthrift. The last piece in the volume is The Mirror of Martyrs, or The Life and Death of Sir John Oldcastle, knight, a poem which XXll PREFACE. deserved a better fate than to have been reduced, as it is said, to two, or at most three, extant copies. The present reprint will do a tardy justice to its merits. Mr. Collier points out that the author applauds Spenser — " O greefe, that Spenser's gone ! " — and borrows from Shakspere ; but this latter obligation seems to be very doubtful, as far at least as concerns the lines on the battle of Shrewsbury, which are given by Collier as an instance of his borrowing. And all the Armie, ventrous, val'rous, bold, Hote on the spui-, now in the spur lie cold. Here so obvious a play on the name Hotspur was surely apt to occur both to Weever and Shakspere, without any borrowing on either hand. The " first true Oldcastle " in Weever's dedication may be, as Mr. Collier says, a reference to Shaksperes " Old Lad of the Castle," and may intimate that he for the first time was showing Oldcastle in his true colours, whereas Shakspere had shown him in false ones ; and to these false colours he may refer where he says the world With cowardise beginneth to empeach me. Page 185. In the fourth stanza, however, there seems to be certainly a reference to Shakspere, when our author says The many-headed multitude were drawne By Brutus speech that Caesar was ambitious ; for it is more probable that he refers to the play of Julius Csesar, written about that time, than to the facts of history, or to Plu- tarch's version of them. It is Oldcastle himself who relates his own prowess, his master's favour, his sufferings and death, martyred for his Lollard opinions ; and who modestly says Becket is set ; now doth Oldcastle shine ; Him for a Saint within your Kalends hold." PREFACE. XXUl Capgrave in his Chronicle of England gives a full account of Lord Cobham, but, though he gives him credit for his valour and ability, he does not estimate him so highly as in Weever's poem lie estimates himself. Probably the contemporary view of the Lollards was as much too bad, amongst their opponents, as the distant view of the days of Elizabeth was too good, amongst the reapers of the seed they had sown. In the days of Henry the Eifth and Sixth their enormities were more visible than their virtues to the eyes of churchmen. In the days of Elizabeth their enormities were for- gotten, and they were credited, as being the first fathers of the Reformation, with more virtues than they had possessed. Capgrave says " Thei [the Lollardis] trvsted mech on the witte and on the power of a certeyn knyte thei cleped Ser Jon Oldcastelle. He was cleped Cobham, for he had weddid a woman ny of the lordis kyn. A strong man in bataile he was, but a grete heretik, and a gret enmye to the Cherch. Eor his cause the archbishop gadered a Councel at London ; for he sent out prestis for to preche, whech were not admitted be non Ordinarie ; and he was present at her sermones ; and alle thei that seide ageyn his prestis was he redy to smite with his swerde." The Chronicle comes to an abrupt end in the very year in which Oldcastle was recaptured and put to death ; and shortly after- wards Edward de Cherlton, fourth Lord Cherlton of Powis (the " Lord Powis, gouernour in Wales," of the 233rd page) received the thanks of Parliament for his good service in capturing "that notorious rebel," and delivering him over to the authorities of the State. HENRY H. GIBBS. Aldenham, NoTember 30, 1872. XXIV NOTES. Page ix, line 1, ioyle, i.e. iole. ., 113, „ 1, The Emperour Sigismund. The Spanish version says "The Em- peror Frederick III." whose secretary, indeed, Piccolomini was, and whose chancellor was Count Schlick. ,, ,, ,, 4, strete; it should be (/af«; orig. " porta." ,, „ ,, 19, euery, i.e. ivory ; iuery, 1560. ,, „ ,, 24, deceyued; the original adds "and made, as we say, as horned as a stag." „ ,, „ 29, bente facioned; 6en rag; rage, 1560. ,, „ 22, mee, read OTy ; French, " Pour q' mon cas damour cogneu te soit;" Latin, " meum amorem." „ „ 26, it, read in. 149, „ 8, that the loue of us both lyke pearish ; so also in 1560. The Latin has " Ula incensa et ego ardeo; ambo perimus. A line has been omitted by the copyist. B. M. has, " that the loue of us both was lyke, she is kyndeled, and I burne, and we both peryshe." In German it is " Dye ist entzund et ich briynne ; in French, " EUe brusle et je ars nen doubte point Nous perissons remede ne trouuon." The Spanish has " Ella arde y yo me abraso: y ambos, sino nos vales pereceremos.'' ,, „ 26, geeue=:<7zy« ; geue, 1560. 150, „ 3, hem, read him, 1560. „ ,, 5, Earle ; French, " Conte soys seur palatin tu seras." 151, „ 32, rewarde, read rewani«cZ ; Latin, " premiandus." 152, ., 5, done it by unknowne; so all three editions; Latin, "si potuisset te nescients fieri." By may imply " in an unknown fashion," or may it perhaps be " per tmesin," un-6e-known ? „ „ 11, A gylted bull; this is not, as might be imagined, the coat-armour granted to Pandalus " and his posteriars;" but the " aurea bulla" of the original — the patent of nobility. The French book says, " Pandalus eut de macreau le salaire Bientost apres fut conte palatin De noblesse p' mieulx le tout parfaire Les omemens receut a ung matin Ce fut assez tire pour ung hutin NOTES. XXIX Sa lignee en est magnifique Portant habis de valour et satin Aux plus nobles par tout parifiee.'' Here the author has a long reflection on nobility and its origin ; which his translator has omitted, fearing Scandalum Magnatum. It is as follows: — " Of nobility there are many grades, my Marianus; and, indeed, if thou look into the origin of any of them, thou wilt find, in my opinion, none, or certainly very few, that have not had an evil origin. For when we see those called noble who abound in wealth — but wealth is rarely the companion of virtue — who doth not see that their nobility has a degenerate birth? Usury enriches one; spoil another, ruin a third; this man gets wealth by poison, that by adulation, the other owes his place to adultery, while some get their profit out of lies ; some make gain of their wives, some of their children ; many are helped on their way by murder. Rare is he who gets together his wealth honestly. No one makes a big bundle who mows not all hinds of herbs. Men get riches together, and ask not whence they come, but in what quantity they come. This verse suits every one, ' Whence comes your having no one cares, but have you must.' But when the chest is once full, straightway a patent of nobility must be asked for — nobility, which thus sought is nothing else but the reward of iniquity. My ancestors were considered noble, but flatter me not ; I think my forefathers were no better than others, whose antiquity is their only excuse, and that because their crimes are not in the memory of man. In my opinion no one is noble unless he be a lover of virtue. Of cloth of gold, of horses and dogs, of a row of lacqueys, of dishes, of tables, of marble . palaces, villas, farms, fishponds, magistracies, forests, I make no account. For these, and all of these, a fool can get; whom if any one call noble, he must be himself a fool. 'Twas by pimping that our Pandalus got his peerage." Page 152, line 22, hadde very; hadde a very, 1560. „ „ 30, harden, read Aard« (B. M.)=heai'd. 153, ,, 8, one, read an, B. M. „ „ 26, appere: it should be o/)era ; Latin, " adaperiat." 154, „ 10, faylige, m&Afayling, 1560. 155, „ 18, emly; the "Emilie" of Chaucer's Knight's Tale, and Boccaccio's Theseide. XXX NOTES. Page 155, line 27, nowe where doth; so all three English editions; read nowe were dethe, &c. ; Latin, " nunc mori satius est quando hoc gaudiuni est, ne qua interveniat calamitas ; " German, " jetz wer leioht zu sterben;" Spanish, "agora seria conveniente el morir." „ „ 29, embrachynges ; so also 1560; embracynges, B. M. 156, ,, 2, chayret; chayre, 1560. „ „ 10, Athens, read Antaeus. ,, „ 12, dewe here (all editions )=rfew?/ hair. „ „ 16, mytyng ; meting, 1560. 157, „ 5, wel; wyl, 1560. „ ,, 21,leue; live, 1560. ,, „ 25, merely (all editions) =m«rn7y. „ „ 30, fayth full; /ayJA/wZ/, 1560. 160, „ 19, snowned (all editions), read suowned, i. e. swooned; Latin, " exanguis cecidit." „ ,, 20, Percia, i. e. Porcia. „ ,, 23, beade, i.e. led; hede, 1560. „ ,, 25, were; ware, 1560. 161, „ 2, speke; spake, 1560. 234, „ 3, dread ; so in original ; read dead. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. [The marginal corrections and additions are from the 1490 edition, unless it is otherwise stated. When the additions are incorporated into the text they are inclosed within square brackets.] Enee Siluii poete Senewsis de duobws amawtibus Eurialo et Lucrecia opus- [From the culujw ad Marianum Sosinuw feliciter incipit Prefatio. Vienna MS. of 1446. Argentine, Agnifaco et generoso militi dommo laspari Slich domino noui castri, 1476.] Oesario cawcellario, ac terrarum Egee Cubitiqwe Capitaneo, domino suo precipuo, Eneas Siluius poeta, imperialisqwe secretariws salutem Tplurimam dicit, et se reddit commemdatuw. Marianws Sosinw* Senensis, conterranews mews, vir cum mitis ingenii turn litteraxum multarum (cuiws adhuc similem visurws ne sim, hereo), duos amawtes sibi ut descri- berem rogatum me hiis diebws fecit ; nee referre dixit rem veram agerem, an more poetico fingerem. Scis qui vir sit ; mirabere si tibi expendam, nihil ei preter formam natura inuidit, homontio est : nasci ex mea familia debuit cui paruorujw hominuw est cognomew : -Nar est eloquens, iuris vtriusqwe consultus : Historias omnes nouit : poetrie peritws est : carmen facit et latinuw et tuscum ; philosophie tarn scius quam Plato, geometer quasi Boecius, in numeris fere Macrobio similis : nullum instrumentum ignorat musicum ; agriculturam quasi Virgilius nouit ; nihil ciuile ignotum viro. dum iuuenili adhuc stabant in corpore vires, alter Entellus erat luctandi magisterio. Non cursu non saitu now gestu poterat superari. Preciosiora sunt interdum parui corporis vasewla, vt gemme lapilliqwe testantur ! nee ab re fuerit quod de Tethideo refert Stacius in hunc referri. " Maior in exiguo regnabat corpore virtus." Dij formam huie hommi et immortalitatem si dedissent, is etiam erat deus. Sed nemo sortitws est omnia, inter mortales. Nullum adhuc noui cui pauciora quam huic defuerint ; Quid quod minutissima etiam didicit quasi alter Appelles sic pingit : Nihil emendatius est, nihil luoidius, quam sua manu seripti codices : Sculpit vt Praxiteles, nee medicine ignarws est : Adde virtutes morales que alias regunt ducuntqwe. Noui meis diebws plerosqwe studiis literarwrn deditos, disciplinis qui admodum abundabant ; sed hii nihil ciuilitatis habebant nee rempublicam nee domesticam regere norant. Stupuit Plagarensis et furti villicum accusavit, qui f XXXIV APPENDIX. suem fetam undecim porcellos, [asinam] unum dumtaxat enixam pullum, retu- lerat : samicius mediolaneKsis grauiduw se putauit, diuqwe partuw veritus est, quia se uxor ascendit : Hii tamen iiiris maximum lumen habiti sunt : in aliis vero vel fastum vel auaritiam invenies, hie perliberalis est. Plena semper ei domus est honestis hospitibus ; nulli aduersMs est, pupillos taetur, egros solatur, pauperibMS subuenit, uiduas iuuat, nuUi indigenti deest vultus eius : quasi socraticus, sempgr est idem : In aduersis fortem animum prebet ; nulla fortuna inflatur : versueias, non vt exerceat sed vt caueat, quaslibet nouit : Ciuibw* dileetus est, peregrinis amatus ; nulli odiosus, nulli grauis : At homo tantarum virtutum cur nunc rem leuiusculam exigat? Haud scio, id scio nihil iUi mihi negare fas esse. Eum namqwe, dum Senis essem, mice dilexi ; nee diminutws est amor quamuis separatw* sit. Is qaoque, cam esset ceteris nature dotibw* pre- ditM«, tamew hae maxime pollebat, vt nullius erga se sterilewi esse amorem sineret : Huius ergo rogatu« non censui respuewdos, senpsiqwe duorum amaw- tiuTO casws, nee fiwxi : res acta Senis est dwn Sigismundws iwiperator illic degeret. Tu etiam aderas, et si veruw hiis auribws hausi, operawi amori dedisti. Ciuitas veneris est, aiunt qui te noruwt uehementerqwe asseruwt, quod nemo te gaUior ftierit, nihil ibi amatorie gestum te inscio putant Ideo historian banc vt legas precor, et an vera scripserim videas. ^ Nee remiaisci te pudeat si quid huiusmodi nonnumquam euenerit tibi ; homo enim fueras. qui nimqttam sensit amoris ignes aut lapis aut bestia est. Ille nawiqwe vel per deorum medullas non latet igneam fauillam. Vale. [Prefatio.] '?' j Xeas SiluiM*, poeta, imperialisqwe secretarius, salutem plurimam dicit mariano Zosino -v-triusq^^e iuris interpreti, cowciui suo. ^ Eem petis haud conuenientem etati mee, tue vero et aduersam et repugnantem : quid entm est quod vel me iam pene quadragenarium scribere, vel te quinqwagenarium de amore eonueniat audire ? f Juuenes animos res ista delectat, et tenera corda deposciL IT Senes enim tarn ydonei sunt amoris auditores, quam prudentie iuuenes : 1 Xec quicqwam est senectute deformius que venerem affectat sine Yvcihus. IF Inuenies tamew et ahquos senes amawtes, amatos vero nullum. U Nam et matro?)is et puellis est despectum senium, t Nullius amore tenetur muher nisi quem viderit etate florentew. APPENDIX. XXXV IT Si quid aliter audis, .deceptio subest. Ego vero cognosco amatoriuwi scriptum mihi non cowuenire, qui iam meridiem pr-eter gressus, in vesperum feror. Sed non minus me scribere quam te posoere dedecet. Ego tibi debeo morigerus esse : tu vide quid postules. Nam quanto es natu matm-ior, tanto equius est parere amioitie legibws, quas si tua iustieia non veretur mandando infringere, nee stultitia mea timebit trawsgredi obediendo. Tua in me tot sunt beneiicia, vt nihil negare petitionum tuarum queam, etiam si admixtum sit aliqwid turpitudinis. Parebo igitur petitioni tue iam decies multiplieate, nee ampliMS negabo quod tanto con[u]itio postulas. Non tamen (vt ipse flagitas) fictor ero ; nee poete vtemur tuba dum licet vera referre. Quis enim tam nequam est vt mewtiri velit cum se vero potest tueri ? Quia tu sepe amator fuisti, nee adhuc igne cares, vis tibi vt duorum amantium hystoriam texam, neqwitia est que te non sinit esse senem. Ero morigerus cupiditati tue et banc inguinis egri caniciem prurire faciam ; nee fingam quando tanta est copia veri quid enim est toto terrarwm orbe amore eommunius ? que eiuitas, quod oppidulum, que familia vacat exemplis ? Quis trigesimum nactus annum amoris cawsa nullum peregit facinus ? Ego de me facio coniecturam, quern amor in mille pmcula misit. Ago superis gratias qwod structas insidias milies fugi felicior astro marte quern vulcanws cum venere iacentem ferreo illaqweauit reticulo, deridendumqwe diis ceteris osfentauit. Bed alienos non meos amores attingam, ne dum vetusti cineres ignis euoluo, scintillam adhuc viuentem reperiam. Referam autem mirum amorem peneqwe incredibilem quo duo amantes (ne dicam amentes), inuicem exarsere ; nee vetustis nee obliteratis vtar ex- emplis, sed nostri temporis ardentes faces exponam, nee troyanos, nee babilonios, sed nostre vrbis amores audies ; qwamuis ex [a]mantibus alter sub artico natus fuerit celo, forsitan et hinc sugere ahquid vtilitatis licebit: nam cum puella que in argumentum venit, amatore per-dito, inter plorandum mestam et indig- nantem exaluerit animam, alter vero post hac nunqwam vere letitie particeps fuerit, commonitio quedam iuuenibws erit, his vt abstineant iugis. IT Audiant igitur adolescentule et hoc edocte casu videant ne ipost amores iuuenum se eant perditum : Instruit hec historia iuuenes ne militie se accingant amoris que plws fellis habet quam meUis. Sed omissa lasciuia que homines reddit iwsanos virtutis incumbant studiis que possessorem suum gloria beare potest. Li amore autem quot lateant mala si quis aliunde nescit, hinc poterit scire. Tu vale, et historic quam me eogis scribere attentus auditor esto. [1 Incipit opusoulum de duobus amantibus.] * * The Venice Edition of 1497 omits tlie Dedication and Preface, and begins with the words, f Siluii Enee Poete, qui postea summi Pontificatus graduTO adeptus Pius est appellatus, Hystoria de duobus amamtibus cummultis epistolis amatoriis, ad marianum compatriotam mum. Eeliciter Incipit. /2 XXXVl APPENDIX. " tophorum, 1490, tor- phornm, al. ed. colo- phorum 1648. dei Tofi, Ital. Rhem Senas, unde tibi et mihi origo est, intrawti Sigismundo Cesari quot honores impensi fuemwt, iam ubiqMe uulgatum est. Palatium illi apud sacelliim sancte marthe super uicuwi que ad cophorum* ducit ' portaw strictam paratum fuit. Hue postqwam cerimonie peracte acceptns • inclitn)« suwt cuw uenisse^ Sigismundus, quattuor maritatas obuiawi habuit, nobilitate, forma, etate, ornatuqwe pares : now mortales sed deas quisqwe putauit : si tres duwitaxat fiiissent, ille uideri poterawt quas referuwt paridewi per quietew uidisse. Erat SigismundMS, licet grandeuMS, in libidinem prouus; matronarMm alloquiis admodum oblectabatur, et femineis blandimewtis gaudebat ; nee suauius illi quieqwam fuit illustriuw aspectu muKerum. Vt ergo has uidit, desiliens equo, inter manus earum exceptus** est, et ad comites versus, ait. " Similes ne unquam hiis femiwas uidistis. Ego dubius sum an facies humawe sint, angelici ue uultus ; celestes sunt certe." Ele oculos humi deiiciewtes, ut uerecundiores fiuwt, sicpulehriores redduwtur. Sparso namqwe inter genas rubore, tales dabant pre colores quales iwdicum" ebur ostro uiolaturw, aut quales reddunt alba immixta purpureis rosis lilia. Precipuo tamew inter eas nitore Lucrecia fulsit, adoles- ' camillornm eentula nowduwi viginti annos nacta, in familia cameloruwi "^ prediuiti uiro Menelao nupia. Lidigno tamen cui tantam iecus domi seruiret, sed digno, quem uxor deciperet, et (sicut nos dicimw*) cornutum. quasi ceruuwi redderet. Statura mulieris eminentior reliquis ; come iUi copiose, et aureis lawinis similes, qwas non more virginum retrofusas miserat, sed auro gemmisque incluserat : Frons alta, spaciiqwe decentis, nulla interfecta ruga : Supercilia in arcum tensa, pilis paucis nigrisqwe debito interuallo disiuncta : Oculi tawto nitore splendentes ut in solis modum respiciewtium intuitus [b]ebetarent ; Hiis ilia et occidere quos uoluit poterat, et mortuos cum libuisset in uitaw resumere : Nasus in Glum directw*, roseas genas eqwali mensura disiungebat : e Nihil hiis genis amabiliws, nihil delectabilius visu ; Que, cum mulier risit, in paruam utrinqw dehiscebant foueaw : Nemo has uidit qui now cuperet osculari. Os paruum decensqwe : Labra coraUini coloris ad morsum aptissima : Dentes paruuli et in ordinem positi ex cristallo videbantur; per quos tremula lingua discurrens, now sermonem sed armoniaw suauissimam mouebat. Quid dicam menti speciem an gule candorem ? Nihil iUo in corpora now laudabile: iwterioris forme iudieiuwi faciebat exterior. Nemo hawc aspexit qui uiro non inuiderit. Erant insuper in eius ore multe faeetie. Sermo is fait qualeni rumor est graceorwrn matrem habuisse corneliawi, sine hortewsii fiham. Nee suauiw* aliqwid eius oratione, nee modestiw* fuit, non ut plereq " distenni- nabat ue ' metnm . f monilia tristi facie honestatem o« nunc fills que vestibus vtebatur.J Turn equi tales illi erant qwales in fabulis est ad Troyam geres uenisse Memnonis. Nibil huic ad excitandum ilium blanduw animi calorem quern amorem uocant, preter otium, deerat. Sed vicit * iuuenta et luxus ; tum » vincit leta fortune bona qwibus ille nutritwn Nee potens Eurialus sui : vt Lueretiam nidit, ardere puellam cepit ; berensqt«e uultui nihil satis uidisse putauit.^ Nee ' putabat. impune dilexit : Mira res. Multi egregia forma iuuenes : sed vnum hunc Lucretia ; plures honesti corporis mulieres ; sed banc vnam eurialus sibi delegit.^ Non = elegit. tamen hac ipsa die uel in se flammam liucresia cognouit Euriali, uel ille Lucresie ; sed amare se frustra ut«rque putauit. Vt igitur cerimoniis sacro cesaris capiti per-actis modws fuit, ilia domum reuersa in Eurialum tota, in Lucreciam totus Eurialws, ferebatur. Quis nunc Tisbes et Pirami fabulam deme- retwr,'' inter quos noticiam primosqwe gradws vieinia fecit, quippe ' domos habuere " demiretur contiguas ? Tempore creuit amor. Hii nusquam se prius viderant nee fama cog- omMt^d. noverant. Hie franco, ilia tusca, fuit : nee lingue commercium intercessit ; sed ocuIm tantum res acta est, cum alter alteri plaeuissei. Saucia ergo graui cura Lucresia, et igne capta ceco, iam se maritatam obliuiscitMr. Virum edit; et alens uulnerum ^ uulnws, infixes pectore tenet Euriali uultws. Nee nuUam k " Tenerinm." membris stiisqwietem prebet; secum que, " nescio quid obstat," ait, " vt ampliws herere viro neqweam, nil me iuuant eius amplexws ; nil oblectant oscula : fasti- XXXVUl APPENDIX. ' quod " tibi omi - Heu ■" dispero ■ dum proci cliuTO verba ingerurat : peregrini semper ante oculos est ymago qui hodie propior erat Cesari : excute conceptas e casto pectore flammas, si potes irafelix. Si possem, iiO)i essem egra vt sum; Noua me uis inuitam traHt. Aliud cupido suadefc, aliud mens. Scio quid ^ est meliws ; quod deteriws est sequor. ciuis tted. egreggia ac nobilis, qwid tibi '' cum peregrino est ? quid in extraneo vreris ? quid thalamos aliewe cowcipis vrbis ? Si uirwm fastidis, hec eciam potest dare terra qwod ames : Sed, hey "^ mihi, que nam illius est facies ! quam noft moueat eius forma, etas, genus, uirtws ? certe mea pectora mouit, et nisi ferat opem dispereo.'' Dii meliora dent. Vah ! prodam ego castos hjmenos, meqwe aduene nescio cui oredam, qui, vbi ^ abusus me fuerit, abeat, uirqwe sit alteriws, et me pene relinquat? Sed now is est eius uultw*, non ea nobi- litas auimi uidetur, nee gratia forme ilia est, ut timeam fraudes et amoris obliuia nostri : dabit ante fidem : Cur tuta timeam ? Accingar, et omnem morem ^ pellam. Ego quoq?(e ita sum pulchra ut non me min?-K LHORETIA TEARS THE LETTER. APPENDIX. xliii • quasqwe suo loco reposuit, et lacera verba contexuit, hmque legibile eirographum fecerat : Quod postquam milies legit, miliesqwe deosculata est, tandem inuolutum sindone inter preciosa iocalia coUocauit. Et nunc hoc repetensnunc illudverbuwi maiorew horatim bibebat amorem ; Eurialoqwe rescribere statuit, atqwe hunc in moduwi dietatam epistola. misit. ijEsine sperare quod asseqwi non licet, Euriale: Parce litteris ac nunciis me vexare : nee me illarum ex grege credito qui se vendunt; Now sum quam putas, nee cui submittere lenam debeas: Quere aliam incestandam : me nuUws amor nisi pudicus seqwatur : Gum aliis ut libet agito : Ex me nil postules ; teqwe me indignuw scias. Vale." Hec epistola qwawuis durior Eurialo visa est et contraria lene dictis, viam tamen ostendit vitro citroqtte litteras missitandi. Nee dubitauit Eurialw* credere cui fideni Lucresia pr-ebuisset : sed angebatwr- quia sermonis ytalici nesciws erat : Ideoqwe feruenti studio curabat ediscere. Et quia sedulum faciebat amor, breui tempore doctws euasit, solusqwe sibi dietauit epistolas qui priws ab aliis : mutuabatur quid- qm'd etruseo sermone scribi oportuit. Respondit ergo Lucresie nil succensendum esse sibi quod infamem miserat feminam ; cuwi id se peregrinum lateret qui vti alio nuwtio non poterat ; missionis amorem fuisse causam, qui nihil qwereret inhonesti. Credere se fore pudicaw castissimamqwe, atque id circo maiori dignam amore. Insolentem feminam honorisqite sui prodigam nedum se non diligere, sed maximo odio prosequi ; Pudicitia namque amissa, nil esse quod in femina commendetur : Formam esse delectabile bonum sed fragile caducumqwe, et cui, nisi pudor assit, nihil precii ^ detur : que pudicitiaw forme adiunxerit earn « ' diuinam esse mulierewi, ipsam [que] vtraqwe dote poUentem scire ; ac propter[e]a coli a se, qui nihil ah ea peteret libidinosum, aut offuturum fame : optare se taratum alloqui, vt animujn suum, qui scriptis plene ostendi nequit, verbis aperiat. Cum hiis litteris munera misit non solum materia sed etiam opere preciosa. Ad hec Lucresia sic rescripsit : " Accepi litteras tuas, iamqwe nil awiplius de lena queror : quot me ames non magnifacior ; quia nee primws es nee soIms quem mea forma deeeperit. Multi et amauerunt, et amant me alii. Sed vt iUorurn sic et tuMs erit labor vatuws : '' Habere verba tecum, nee possum, nee volo. Inuenire " me solam, nisi fias hyrundo, non potes : Alte sunt domus, et aditws eustodia elausi. Munera tua suscepi, quia oblectauit me opws illorwm : sed ne quid tuum gratis apud me sit ; ne ue hoc pignus videatwr amoris, remitto ad te annulum quem matri mee vir dedit, ut apud te qwasi preeium sit venditoris iocalium. Nee enim minoris est gemma eius quam munus tuum. Vale." Hiis Eurialws sic replicauit. g2 xliv APPENDIX. Majoraque Agno in gaudio fuit epistola. tua, que finewi querelis facet de lena^ sed angit me quod amorem pa^'uipewdis meuw. Nam et si te " plures, nullorwwi tamen ignis comparawdMS est meo. At tu hoc now credis, quia loqui neqMeo tecujw : id si daretur, now me cow- temneres. vtinam fieri possem hyrumdo ; sed libewtiws transformari in pulicem vellem ne mihi fenestram clauderes. At ego now quod neqweas, sed quod nollis doleo. Nam quid ego nisi awimum respicio. Ach mihi Lucresia, quid dixti te nolle? An fieri possit, me nolis alloqui qui tmis sum totws, qui nil magis cupio quam tibi gerere morem, quod, si iubes in ignem ire, citius obediam quam precipias? Mitte obsecro verbum hoc: si nan Aatur facultas, assit voluntas tamen : ne me verbis eneca, que vitam oculis mihi prebes. Si non placet me alloquium petere quia non sit impetrandum, obsequar. Sed muta sententiam illam, qua meum laborem vacuum dixisti futurum. Absit hec crudelitas. Mitior esto amanti tuo. Si pergis sic loqui, fies homicida ; nee dubita. Faciliws tu me verbis interimeres, quam alius quiuis gladio. Desino iam plura poscere : vt redames tantum postulo : Nihil [hie] est qm'd obiicias : nemo potest hoc pT-ohibere : Die te me amare, et beatws sum. Munuscula mea quouis mode apud te sint. Grratum est qwod ilia te aliquando mei admonebumt amoris. Sed parua ilia fuerunt, et minora sunt que nunc mitto : tu tamem noli spernere, qwod amator donat. Maiora ^ in dies ex patria debent affierri : Cum aderuwt, ex me recipies. Anulws tuMS nunqwam ex digito meo recedet, et ilium vice tua crebris osculis reddam madidum. Vale delicium meum, et mihi quod potes solatium date." •^ om. ' Medeam (lecepit = om. Ariadne Ic cum frequewter replicatum esset,'' in hunc tandem modum Lucresia dedit epistolam. " Uellem tibi Euriale morem gerere, teqwe (vt petis) amoris mei participem facere ; Nam id tua nobilitas meretur, et mores tui deposcunt, vt incassum now ames. Taceo quantum mihi placet forma tua, et plena benignitatis facies : sed mihi non est vsui te vt diligam : nosco meipsam : Si amare incipiam, nee modum nee regulam seruabo : Tu hie diu esse non potes, nee ego te, postqwam in ludum venerim, possem carere. Tu me noUes abducere, at ego noUem manere. Mouewt me multarum exempla que per- peregrines amawtes deserte sunt, ne tuum amorem sequar : Jason Medeam ^ (cuiM* auxilio uigilem interemit draconem, et vellus aureum asportauit) reliquit : " Tradendws erat Thesews minotauro in escam, sed Adriane^ consilio fretus euasit ; illam tamen desertam apud insulam deseruit : Quid Dido infelix, que pr-ofugum recepit Eneam. Num illi peregrinus amor interitum dedit. Scio quawti perieuli est amorem extraneum admittere, nee me tawtis obiioiam dis- criminibws. Vos viri solidioris estis animi : furoremqwe magis eompescitis. ^'o. 8- To face page sXy. EURIALUe RECEIVED A LETTER EKOM I.UCRETIA. APPENDIX. xlv Femmia * vbi furere incipit sola potest morte assequi terminum : Non amant sed " femina insaniunt muHeres, et nisi correspondeat amor, nihil est amante femina terri- biliws : Postqwam receptws est ignis, nee famam curamw* nee vitam : unicum remediuTO est, si copia sit amati.^ Nam quo magis caremMs, magis cupimus ; " amanti. nee discrimew timem?«s vllum, dum nostre libidini satisfiat. Mihi ergo nupte nobili, diuiti, eonsultum est amori viam preeludere ; et tuo presertim, qui non ^potest esse diuturuMs, ne uel Eodopeya Phillis, diear, vel altera Sapho. Ideo te oratum volo : ne vltra meum exposcas amorem, et tuum vt paulatim com- primas extinguasqwe : Nam id est viris quam femmis multo faeilius ; nee tu si me (vt dicis) amas, id ex me querere debes, quod mihi exitio sit. Pro tuis donis remitto aureaw crueem margaritis ornatam, que, licet breuis sit, non tamew precio earet. Vale." Non taeuit Eurialus his acceptis sed vt erat nouis scriptis ineensus ealamum suscepit, atqwe sub hao forma dietauit epis- tolam. riAlue anime mi Lucresia que me tuis litteris saluum facis, etsi non nihil fellis immisceas, sed hoe spero me audito distrahes. Venit meas in manus epistola tua, clausa, et tua gemma signata. Hanc et legi sepe et deoseulatus sum sepiws; sed hee aliud suadet quam tnus videtitr animws fuisse. Rogas me vt amare " desinam quia non expedit tibi ' amore peregrin! flammas amoris sequi ; Et ponis exempla deceptarum, sed hoc tarn ornate culteqwe seribis, vt mirari magis et amare tuuwi ingenium debeam quam obliuisci. Quis est ille qui tune amare desinat quando prudentiorem et sapien- tioreni animaduertat amieam. Si meuwi imminuere ^ amorew uolebas non ■* minuere oportuit doctrinam tuam ostendisse. Nam hoc non est incensum extinguere, sed ignem maximum ex parua eonflare favilla. Ego dum legi magis exarsi uidens forme tue preelare et honestati eoniunctaw esse doctrinam. Verba sunt tamen quibws rogas vt amare desistam. Roga montes vt in planum veniant, atqwe fowtes sua repetant flumina ! tam possem ego te non amare, qwam suum relinquere phebus cursum ! Si possunt carere niuibus sitie " ' sithie montes, aut maria piscibus, aut feris silue, poterit et obliuisci Eurialus tui. Non est pronum viris vt reris, Lueresia, flammas extinguere. Nam qwod tu nostro sexui asseribis, pleriqwe vestro assignant : sed nolo hoc certamen nunc aggredi. Ad ea me respondere oportet, que in aduersum rettulisti. Id eirco eaim nolle te mihi iam-[que cor] -respondere amanti significas, quoniam multas peregrinws amor deeepit, exempla que ponis ; sed possem ego plures referre quos femine reliquerunt. Troylum, siout nosti, Priami filium Crisis d«eepit: Dei xlvi APPENDIX. ' perdidit phebuOT Helena prodidit : ' amantes cirtes ^ suos medicamewtis vertebat in sues, ntque in sliarum terga ferarum : Iniquum est paucarMjn consuetudine totum uulgMs censere. Nam si sic pergimus, et tu propter duos tres ve malos aut ' "'"• etiam decern viros omnes accusabis" horrebisqwe,'' et propter totidem feminas que om. ,..,.„..,. i i- cetere omnes eruwt odio mini. Qum potius alia sumamus exewpJa qualis amor Antbonii Cleopatreqwe fait ; et aliorum quos epistole breuitas referri non sinit. Sed tu Ouidium legisti, inueiiistiqwe post troyawi dirutam achiuorum plurimos du?M remeant peregrinis retentos amoribus, nunqwam in patriam reuertisse. Heserunt namque amatricibMs suis, carere potiws necessariis, domo, regnis, et aliis que sunt in patria queqwe gratissima uoluerunt, quam arnicas relinqwere. fnenint Hec te rogo my Lucretia cogites, now ilia que nostro amori sunt aduersa, et ' sum qiue pauci feceruwt." Ego ea mewte te sequor, vt perpetuo te amem, simqwe ' perpetuo taus : nee tu me peregrinum dixeris ; magis n&mque ciuis sum quam qui bic nascitw?". Nam ilium casus fecit ciue?w, me vero electio. Nulla mihi patria erit, nisi vbi tu sis, et quanuis aliquando co/jtingat me bine abire, reditus tamen festinus erit : Nee ego in teutoniam reuertar nisi res compositurus ordinaturusqwe vt tecum esse quam diu possim valeam ; facile manendi apud te reperietur oecasio. 8 cesan Multa hiis in partibws cesaris s negocia sunt ; hec mihi eojwmitti expedienda trusia curabo; nunc legatione fungar, nunc munus exercebo. Vicarium in strucia'' ^^^ cesarem habere oportet : hanc ego prouinciam impetrabo. Ne' dubita suavium " ^"^"^8 ™i meum ^ Lucretia, meu??i cor, spes mea : Si viuere absqwe corde possum, te et reliwquere possum. Age iam tandem, miserere amantis tui, qui tanquam nix ad ""'■ solem liquescit : Considera meos labores et modum ' iam deniqwe meis martiriis - finem statue." Quid me tamdiu crucias. Miror ego mei, qui tot mala perpeti potuerim, que tot noctes insomnes duxi, qui tot ieiunia toleraui. Vide quam ' plalidnssum. macer sum, qicam palidus : " parua res est que spiritum alligatum corpon detinet. Si tibi aut parentes, aut filios occidissem non pot[e]ras de me mains quam hoc suppiicium sumere : Si sic me punis quia te amo, quid igitur facies qui tibi damnum dederit aut malum ? Ah mea Lueresia, mea hera, mea salus, meum refagium, suscipe me in gratiam ; demum rescribe me tibi carum esse ! Nihil ahud » mihi volo, liceat me " dicere seruus Lucresie sum ! Et reges et cesares amajit seruos V'1497^'^'^''" vbi fideles nouerint, nee-[dum dignantur P] readamare qui amamt. Vale spes mea, meusqwe metus." Vt turris que, fi-acta interiws, inexpugnabilis videtur exterius, si paries admot?t« fuerit mox confrigitur, sic Euriali verbis Lueresia victa est: Postquam enim sedulitatem amantis aperte cognouit, et ipsa dis- simulatum patefecit amorem, atqwe hiis litteris Eurialo sic aperuit. No. 9. lo/ace page xlvii . APPENDIX, xlvii On possum tibi amplius aduersari, nee te amplius, Euriale, mei amoris expertem habere possum. Vieisti ; iamque sum tua. Me miseram, que tuas suscepi litteras ; nimium multis exponenda sum periculis, nisi tua me fides et prudewtia iuuet. Vide vt serues que scripsisti : In amorew iam tuuw venio : si me deseris, et crudelis, et proditor, et omniuwi pessimus es. Facile est femellaw decipere ; sed quawto facilius tawto turpius. Adhuc res integra est ; si putas me deserewdam : dicito antequam magis amor ardeat. Nee incipiamus qwod post modum incepisse peniteat. Omniuw rerum respieiendws est finis. Ego, vt femma.rum est, parum video. Tu vir es ; te mei et tui euraw habere oportet. Do me iam tibi, tuamqwe sequor fidem : nee tua esse cupio, nisi vt sim perpetuo tua. Vale menm pr-esidium meeqwe duetor vite." Tost hawe plures epistole misse utriqwe sunt, nee tam ardenter scripsit Eurialws, quam feruenter Lueresia respowdit : unuw iam utriqwe " desidei'iuwi erat simul conueniendi, sed arduum ac pene impossibile • vtrius que videbatur, omnium ocuHs Lucr-esiam obseruantibws, que nee sola vnqwam egrediebatwr-, nee unqwam custode carebat ; nee tam diligenter bouem Junonis ArgM« custodiuit, quam Menelaw* iusserat obseruari Lucresiam. Vieium hoc apwd ytalos late patet ; femiwam suam qwasi thesauT-wm quisquis ^ recludit, meo '' quisque iudicio minws vtiliter. Sunt enim fere eiusmodi mulieres omnes, vt id potissimum eupiant qwod maxime denegatitr : Que vbi veils noluwt, vbi nolis eupiunt vitro : Ee " si liberas habent habenas minws delinquunt : Exinde tam facile est inuitam c Hee custodire mulierem, quam in feruente sole pulicum gregem obseruasse : Nisi suapte casta sit mulier, frustra marittzs nititur apponere seruantes eam : sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes ? Cauta est, et ab illis incipit vxor. Indomitum animal est mulier, nullisqwe frenis retinendum. Erat Lucresie spuriws frater ; huie sepe tabel- las commiserat Eurialo deferendas, hunc enim amoris sui conscium fecerat. Cum hoc igitw?- [conuenitur] Eurialum vt elam domi recipiat : habitabatqwe hie apud noueream suam Lucresie matrem quam Lueresia sepe visitabat, et ab ea sepiws visitabatMJ', nee enim magno interuallo distabant. Ordo ergo is erat, vt, clauso in conclaui Eurialo, postqwam mater ecclesiasticas auditura eerimonias exiuisset, Lueresia superueniret, tanqwam matrem domi conuentura, qua non inventa, reditum expectaret, interim vero apud Eurialum esset. Post biduum statutiis erat terminws ; at hii dies tanqwam anni visi sunt amantibMs longi ; vt bene sperantibus hore produete * sunt, male sperantibus eorrepte. 8ed non ai'risit amantum desideriis fortuna ; presentit namqwe insidias mater : atqwe vt dies '' perducte venit, egressa domum preuignum excludit. Qui mox Eurialo triste nuncium tulit: Cui non minus quam Lueresia fait molestum, Que postqwam detectos ' hoc [al. ed.] . . ' animus to agnouit doles; haC [animus commotus est: "nescio quibusj* non successit : quibus 1497. Xlviii APPENDIX. » aggrediamur Alia," iiiquit, " eggrediamur ^ via : nee potens erit mater meis obsistere voluptati- bws." Pandaks vero affinis erat, quern iam Lucresia fecit archaiiorwm scium, nee enim poterat ignitws aniraws qwiescere. Significat igitur Eurialo hunc vt alloqwatur, quia Mus sit et cowueniendi viam possit mowstrare. At Eurialo non videbatur tutum illi se credere, quern Menelao semper herewtem intuebatur et subesse fallaoiam verebatur. Inter deliberawduw autew iussus est Eurialws romawi petere, atqwe cum pontifice maximo de coronatione transigere. Que res turn sibi turn amice molestissima fuit. Sed oportebat cesaris imperium ferre. Iter ergo [mora] duorum mensium fit Lucresia interim domi manere, fenestras b ^jra^rg elaudere, mestas induere uestes, nusqvam exire cernitur : mirantur '' omnes, nee eausam noscunt. Sene ipse vidue videbantw?-, et, tanqwam sol defecisset, cuneti se putabant in tenebris agere. Domestiei, qui eawi sepe ineubantem lectulo, et nunqwam letam videbant, egritudini imputabawt, et quiequid remediorum afferri poterat perquirebawt, sed nnnquam ilia vel risit vel thalamum egredi voluit, nisi « isse [al. ed] postqwaw redire Eurialum, et iUi eesarem obuiam esse " cognouit. Tunc eiiim, quasi e graui sumno excitata, lugubri veste posita, et ornamentis redimita prioribws, fenestras aperuit letabundaqwe ilium expeetauit. Quaw ut eesar vidit, " ne nega amplius, Euriale," inquit, " deteeta est res. Nemo vnqwcww absente te Lucresiam videre potuit ; nunc, quia redisti, auroram eernimMs. Quis enim modus assit amori ? Tegi no« potest amor, nee abscowdi tussis." " Joearis meeuOT vt soles, eesar, et me in risuw ducis," Eurialws ait. Ego quid hoc sit non scio. Hinnitws eqaorum [tuorum] et prolixe barbe strepitws tue iUam forsitan ex- citauit." Atque sic effatws Lucresiam furtim aspexit, et oculos cowieeit in oeulos ; "i consalutatio eaqM« post reditum prima salutatio •* fuit. Paueis deinde interiectis diebws NisM« Euriali fidws comes, dum anxiws amici cause fauet, tabernam speculatus est que post Menelai domuw sita, in Lueresie cameram retrorsum habebat intuituwi : Cauponem igitur sibi eonsiliat, Spectatoqwe loco Eurialum adducit, et, " hac," inquit, " ex fenestra alloqui Lucresia??! poteris." Media inter vtramqwe domum c hominam cloaca fuit, nec homini ° nee soli aecessa ; triumqwe vlnarwm distawtia fenestram •■ consedit Lucresie disterminabat. Hie diu conscedit' amator, expectans si quis casus Lucretiam ostenderet. Nec decepttts est : afFiiit tandewi Lucretia, cnmque hue atque illuc respieeret. Quid agis, "ait Eurialus," vite reetrix mee? quo tendis lumina, meujw cor ? Hue hue dirige oculos, presidium meum ! Thus hie Eurialas est ! me, me, assum, me respice !" " Tu ne hie ades," inquit Lucresia, " my Euriale ? Jam te aUoqai possum ? Vtinam et amplecti valorem ?" "At istud Eurialws, now magno eonatu faciam: Scalam hue admouebo : obsera thalamum, amoris nostri gaudia nimium distulimwa." " Caue, my Euriale, si me vis saluam : fenestra hie ad dextram est, vicinusqwe pessimus, nec cauponi ^Vo. 10. To face page Klviii. APPENDIX. xlix credewdujM est, qui parua pecunia et te et me perderet : sed alia ineedamMS via. Sat est si hino sermoni nostro patet accessus," respondit Lucresia. " At mihi," iwqm't Eurialw*, " mors est hec visio, nisi de " semel amplector, meisqwe brachiis " te teneo mediam." Diu ex hoc loco tractus est sermo, missaqwe per harundinem suwt munera. Nee Eurialus in donis quam Lucresia liberalior fuit. Sewsit doles Sosias ; secumqwe, " frustra," inquit, " amantum eonatibus obsto : nisi astans prouideo, et hera peribit, et domws infamiaw subibit. Ex hiis malis satius est vnum auertere. Amet hera : nihil nocebit si clam sit. Ipsa pre amore ceea est, nee quid agat satis prospicit.'' Si non potest custodiri pudicicia, satis esirumorem " perspicit. tollere, ne domws infamis fiat, ne ue paricidium commitatur. Adibo, et operam prebebo meam : Restiti quoad potui ne committeretur nefas ; id quia now licuit, meum est curare," ait, " vt quod agitwr occultum sit, et sic agere vt nemo sciat. Commune malum libido est, neo homo est quem pestis hec non agitet. Et ille castior habetur qui eautius agit." Dumqwe sic fatur Lucresiam egressam thalamo videt; Aggressusqwe feminam "Quid iam est," inquit "quod nihil amoris mihi commwrncas ? Eurialus tibi nihilominus dilectus est, et vt clam ames, Videas cui des fidem. Primus sapientie gradus est, non amare ; secundws vt sic ames ne palam fiat. Sola hoc sine internuwtio facere now potes. Quawta mihi apud te sit fides, lowgo iam tempore didicisti. Si mihi committere vis, iube : mihi maxima cura est ne amor iste detegatur, et tu penam luas, et vir omnium [obtutationes ferat]." Ad hec Lucresia, " sic est vt ais, Sosia," inquit, " et tibi magnam habeo fidem ; sed tu visus es nescio quomodo negligens, et meis adversus desideriis: Nuwc quia sponte te offers, vtar obsequiis tuis, nee abs te decipi timebo. Tu scis quawtum ardeo: diu ferre now possum banc flammam : luua me vt simul esse possumws. Eurialus amore languet, et ego morior." Nil perns est quam obstare cupidini nostre. " <"«■• Si semel inuicem conueniremws, temperantius amabimus, et noster tectus erit amor. Vade igitur, Eurialoq?«e viam vnicam me accedewdi dicito. Si abi hinc quatriduo dum rustici fi-umewtum afferuwt, vectoris personam induat, oper-- tusqwe sacco triticum per scalas in horreum ferat, tute scis thalamus meum ad scalas habere ostium. Itaqwe omnia Eurialo dicito. Hie diem manebo, et. dum erit tempits sola in eubili ero. Ipse ostium impellat dum solus sit, et ad me ingrediatur." I Osias qwamuis arduum facinws esset ; maiora veritw* mala,, prouinciam. suscipit; Eurialoqwe inuewto cuncta ex ordiwe nuwciat,. que iUe iu- dicans leuia libenter amplectitwr, seqwe imperatis accingit ; nee aliud qweritur qwam nimiam moram.* insensatum pectus amawtis !. men- ■* nitaia mora, temcecam! animam audacem, corqwe intrepidum! Quid est tarn inuium, qwod 1 APPENDIX. ferarum tibi peruium non uideatur ? Quid tam asperum, quod planum non estimes ? Quid tarn clausuOT, quod tibi now sit apertum? Tu omwe diserimew parui facis : tu nihil difficile censes. Inanis est apud te omnis custodia maritorwrn : Nulla te leges tenewt, nuUi metus : Nulli pudori obnoxius es : Omnis labor tibi est ludus. rerum amor domitor omnium ! Tu virum primatejw, cesari acceptissimum', diuieiis affluentem, etate maturum, imbutum litteris, prudewtia claruw, eo pro- ducis, vt, posita purpura, saccuw induat, uultum fuco tegat, seruus ex domino fiat ; et qui nutritus in deliciis fuerat, iam humeros ingestandis oneribws aptat seque publicum baiulum mereede locat. rem mirandam peneqwe incredibilem ! YirwOT aliquando consilio grauissimum inter cateruas vectorum cernere, atqwe in coluuie iUa, feceqwe hominum, contuberniuw babuisse ! Quis transformationem querat maiorem ? , Hoe est- qwod Ouidiws methamorphoseos uult, dum fieri ex homini- hus aut bestias scribit, aut lapides, aut plawtas : hoc et poetarum eximius Maro sentit, duTO Circes amatores in terga ferraru?n * verti cantauit. Nam ita est ex amoris flawjma sic mens hominis alienetwr, vt parum a bestiis difi^erat. Linquews croceuwj '■ adoptatum tithoni aurora cubile, iam diem referebat optatuwi;'' moxqwe suuw rebus coUorem apoUo reddens, expectantem recreat Eurialuw ; qui tunc se fortuwatuwi beatum- que censuit, cum admixtum vilibus seruis nuUi noscendum se vidit. Per-git igitur, ingressusqwe Lucresie domum, frumento se onerauit, positoqtte in horreum tritico, vltimus descendentium fuit, atqwe, ut erat perdoctws ostium maritalis thalami, qwod in medio sealarum clausum videbatur, impellit, seqwe intro recipit, et reclusis (ovihus, solam Lucresiam serico intentam videt. Et accede?2S propius, " Salue my Anime," inquit, " Salue vnicum vite presidium spesqwe mee ! Nunc = offendi. ^g solam ostende.'= Nunc qwod semper optaui semotis arbitris te amplectar ; nullws iawi paries, nulla distantia meis obstat oculis." Lucresia quanuis ordinem ipsa dedisset, primo congressu stupuit, neo Eurialum sed spiritum se videre putauit, vt que viruw tawtum ad ea pericula iturum sibi non suadebat ; At vbi inter amplexus et oscula suuin cognouit Eurialum. " Tu ne hie es," ait, " pauper-cule ? Tu ne hie ades Euriale?" Et rubore p«r genas fuse complexa est artiws Varrdf^'^ hominem, et media fi-onte cowspicatw/- : ■• moxqwe repetews sermonem, " Heu quanto te," ait, "discrimini subiecisti ! Quid ampliws dicam ? Iam me tibi carissimam seio. Iam tui amoris feci periculum. Sed neqwe tu me aliam inuenies. dii tawtum fata secundent et amori nostra prosperwm ventum dent. Dum spiritws hos reget artiis preter te nemo Lucresie potens erit ; Nee maritus quide/w, si rite maritum appello, qui michi inuite datws est, et in quem animws nunqwam consensit mens. Sed age, mea voluptas, meum delicium, abiicito saccum hunc, teqwe mihi tu quis es ostende. Exue vectoris speciem ; hos funes missos face ; Eurialum me videre concedito." Jam ille, depositis sordibws ostro fulgebat et auro, et amoris in officium pronws ibat. Turn Sosias ante ostium pulsitans, cauete No. U. Tofacepaga \. EURIALUS DISGUISED AS A PORTER. No. 12. To/ace pageU. APPENDIX. li iwquit amantes I nescio quod verum quere?is Menelaws hue festinat : tegite furta vestra, dolisqwe -virum fallite. Nihil est quod egredi putetis. Turn Lucresia : "latibulum paruum iwquit sub strato es^ : illio preciose res sunt. Seis qwid tibi scripserim, Si te mecum existente vir aduentaret : ingredere hue : tutus his tenebris eris : Neqwe te moueris, neqwe screatum " dederis." Anceps qwod agat * secreatum Eurialus, mulieris impej-ium subit. Ilia foris patefactis ad sericum redit. Turn Menelaus et vna Bertus assunt c[h]irographa nonnuUa ad rempublicam perti- nentia quesituri. Que postqwawi nuUis inuenta sunt scriniis, " in latibulo nostro," inquit Menelaws, " forsitan erunt. I, Lucresia lumenqwe affer : hie intws que- rendum est." His exterritws Eurialus vocibws, exanguis fit, iamqwe Luereciam odisse incipit ; Atqwe intra se [dixit], " Heu me fatuuw?," inquit, " quis me hue venire compulit, nisi leuitas mea ? Nunc deprehensus sum, nunc infamis fio : nuMC cesaris gratiam perdo : qwi'd gratiam ! Vtinam mihi vita supersit ! Quis me hinc viuum eripiet ? Emori certum est ! O me vanum et stultorMw omnium stultissimum ! In hanc sentinam volens cecidi ! Quid heo amoris gaudia, si tanti emuntur ? Breuis est iUa voluptas, dolores longissimi : si nos hoc pro regno celojntm subiremws ! Mira est hominunz stultitia. Labores breues nolumws '' pro ^ nolim«s longissimis tolerare gaudiis : Amoris causa, cuiws letitia fumo eomparari potest, infinitis nos obiectamus angustiis ! Ecce me ipsuw, iam ego exemplum, iam fabula omnium ero : nee quis exitus pateat scio. Hinc si me deorum quispiam traxerit nusqwam me rursus labor illaqueabit. dews eripe me hinc ! parce iuuentuti mee ! Noli meas metiri ignoramtias. Reserua me, vt horum delictorum penitentiam agam ! Now me amauit Lucresia ; sed qwasi ceruuw in casses voluit deprehendere. Ecce uenit dies mens ! nemo me adiuuare potest, nisi tu deus mens. Audiueraw ego sepe xnnlierum faUacias, nee declinare sciui. At si nunc euasero, nuUa me vnquam mulieris tegna deludent." Sed neo Lucresia minoribus vrgebatur molestiis, que non solum sue sed amantis quoqwe saluti timebat. At, vt est in periculis subitaneis mulierMwi quam virorum promptius ingeniuTO, excogita[t]oremedio, " Age," inquit, " vir : Cistella illic. super fenes- tram est, ubi te memini monimenta nonnulla recondisse. Videamus an illic " ' ilU cirographa* sint reclusa : " Subitoqw incuri-ens, tanqwam vellet aperire cistellam, ■< chji-ographa latenter illam deorsum impulit ; Et quasi casu cecidisset, " proh mihi, vir :" ait, " adesto ne qwod damni sentiamus. Cistella ex fenestra decidit : perge oceius'= "^ otius. ne ioculea vel scripture dispereant. Ite, ite ambo ! qm'd statis ? Ego hinc, ne quis furtuOT faciat, oculis obseruabo." Vide audaciam mulieris! I nunc et feminis credito ! Nemo tam oculatws est, vt falli non possit. Is duntaxat non fuit illusus, quern coniunx fallere non temptauit. PIms fortuna quam ingenio snmus felices. Motws hoc facto Menelaws Bertusqwe vna repente in uiculuw se precipitant. h2 Hi APPENDIX. Domus etrusco more altior fuit, multiqrte gradus desoendendi erant. Hino datum • motu est Eurialo spacium mutawdi locum, qui ex monitu ^ Lucresie in nouas latebras » chjTographa se recepit. Dli colleetis iocalibMS atqwe scripturis, quia cirographa '' que quesierant non reperierunt, ad scrinia iuxta que latuerat Eurialws transeunt; ibiqwe voti compotes facti, consalutata Lucresia recesserunt. Ilia, abducto foribMS pessulo; " Exi my Euriale, exi my anime," iwquit, "veni gaudiontm summa meorwm ; " om. veni fows delectationum mearum, scaturigo letitie [mee]" fauum mellis ; veni dulcedo incumparabilis mea ! iam tuta sunt omnia ; iam nostris sermonibus liber campus patet. Iam Iocms est amplexibus tutws. Aduersari osculis nostris fortuna voluit, sed aspiciunt dii nostrum amorem, nee tarn fidos amantes deserere voluerunt. Veni iam meas in vlnas : nihil est qwod amplius vereare, meum lilium rosarumqwe cumulMS. Quid stas ? quid times ? tua hie sum Lucresia : quid cunctaris Lucresiam amplexari ? " Eurialws vix tandem formidine posita sese recipit : complexusqwe mulierem, " nunqwam me inquit tantws inuasit timer, sed digna tu es cuiws causa talia tolerentur. Nee istec oscula et tam dulces amplexws obuenire cuipiam gratis possunt nee debent nee ego, vt verum fateor, satis emi tantum bonum. Si post mortem rursus viuere possem, teqwe perfrui, emori milies vellem, si hoc precio tui possent amplexMs coemi. mea feHcitas ! mea beatitude ! Visum video an ita esi! ? Teneo te an somniis illudor vanis ? Tu certe hie es; ego te habeo." Erat Lucresia leui vestita palla, que membris absqwe ruga herebat, nee vel pectus vel clunes me[n]tiebatM7'. Vt erant artws sic se ostewdabat. Grule candor niualis ; oculor-wm lumen tawquam solis iubar ; Intuitws letM« ; facies alacris ; gene veluti lilia purpureis im mixta rosis ; Risus in ore suauis atqwe modestws ; pectws amplum ; papille quasi duo pmiica poma ex vtroqwe latere tumescebant ; pruritum qnoque palpitawtes mouebant. Non potuit Eurialws vltra stimulum cohibere, sed oblitws timoris, modestiam quoqwe ab se repulit ; aggressusqwe feminam, " Iam," iwquit, " fructum sumamws amoris." ex sedibws cor euelli dolenter ' sentiebant. Si quis i« obitu quawtMS sit dolor ignorat ; duorum aman- tum separationem consideret ; qMamuis maior hie anxietas : in est et cruciatus ingentior : dolet animus in morte, quia corpus relinquit araatum : Corpus, ab- om. sente spmiu, nee dolet nee sentit : Ac cum duo ad * inuieem conglutinati [per amorem] sunt animi, tanto penosior est separatio quanto sensibilior est vterqwe dilectus. Et hie sane non erant sptVzftis duo : sed quemadmodum [inter amicos] Aristophanes putat Aristophones " vnius anime duo corpora facta erant. Itaqwe non recedebat animus ab aninio, sed vnicus amor seindebatwr in duos ; cum cor in partes diui- debatur, mentis pars ibat et pars remanebat, et omnes inuicem sensws disgrega- bantwr, et a se ipsis discedere flebant. Non mansit in amantium faciebtjs sanguinis gutta ; nisi lacrime fuissent et gemitus, simillimi mortuis videbantter. Quis scribere, quis referre, quis cogitare posse* illarwm mentiujn molestias, nisi qui aliquando insaniuit. Laudomia, recedente Protheselao, et ad sacras ylii pug- nas eunte, exanguis cecidit. Eadem, post qwam viri mortem agnouit, viuere ampliMs minime potuit. Dido phenissa post fatalem Enee recessuw-, seipsam interemit. Nee Prochia* ■post Bruti necem voluit superesse. Hec nostra, postquam Euriahis ex visu recessit, in terram colapsa, per familias recepta est, cubiliqwe data donee resumeret spiritum. Vt vero ad se rediit, vestes atireas purpureasqwe et omnem letitie ornatum reclusit, puUisque tunicis vsa, nunqwam post hac cantare audita est, nunqwam visa ridere, nullis facetiis, nuUo g&udio, nullisqiie vnqwawi iocis in letitiam potuit reuoeari. Quo in statu dum aliqi*amdiu perseneret, [in]egritudi- ne?n incidit ; Et quia cor suum aberat, nullaqwe menti consolaiio dari potere^, inter rnidtum plorantis brachia matns ac coUacrimantis, et frustra consolatoriis verbis vtewtis, indignawtem animam exalauit. Eurialus, post quam ex oculis nunqwam se ampliws visuris abiit, nulli inter eundem s locutws : solam i^i mente Lucresiam gerebat, et an nnquam reuerti posse* rneditabatwr". Venitqwe tandem adcesarem Perusii manentem quern deinde Farrariam,'' Mantuam, Tridewtum, Constantiam, et Easileam, secutws est, ac demum in Hongariam atqwe Bohemiam. 8ed vt ipse Cesarem, sic eum Lucretia sequehatur ' in somnis, nullamqwe noctem sibi qm'etam permitteba*. Quam vt obiisse verus amator cognouit, magno dolore permotus lugubrem vestem recepit ; nee cpnsola^i'onem admisit, nisi postqwam Cesar ex ducali sanguine virginem sibi cum formosam turn castissimam atqwe pru- dentem matrimonio iunxit. Habes amoris exitum, Mariane mi amantissime, non porcia - eundum — (Al. ed.) '' ferrariam loquebatur iVo. 20. To/ace par/e Ixvi. APPENDIX. Ixvii • ficti neque felicis : Quem qui legerint, periculum ex aliis faciant quod sibi ex vsu sciet.^ Nee amatorium bibere poculuwi studeant quod longe plus aloes habet quam » fiet. mellis. Vale. Ex vienna quinto nonas lulias. Millesimo quadringentesimo quadragesimo quarto. Explicit opusculum Enee Silui de duobws amantib«s impressujn argentine Anno dommi Tciillesimo quadringentesimo septuagesimo sexto. ^NE^ SYLVII OPERA. Basle, 1551, p. 869, Epistle 395. " Tractatum de amore olim sensu pariterq: setate iuuenes cum nos scripsisse recolimus, Carole fili dilectissime, poenitentia immodica, pudorq: ac moeror animum nostrum vehementer excruoiant : quippe qui sciamus quiq: protestati expresse fuimus, duo contineri in eo libello, apertam videlicet, sed heu lasciuiam nimis prurientemq: amoris historiam, et morale quod earn consequitur, edificans dogma, quorum primum fatuos atque errantes video sectari quamplurimos : alterum heu dolor pene nullos : ita imprauatum est atque obfuscatum infelix mortalium genus. De amore igitur quas scripsimus olim iuuenes, comtemnite o mortales atque respuite, sequimini quae nunc dicimus et seni magis quam iuueni credite, nee priuatum hominem pluris faoite quam Pontificem : ^neam reji- cite, Pium suseipite ; lUud gentile nomen parentes indidere nascenti, hoc Christianum in Apostolatu suscepimus. Porro si quem descripsimus Euriali Lucretiseq: amorem, deuoti, ut accepimus, miseri, insipientes, perlegitis, hue propensius iamiam accedite." o w K H O Pi o o w H o w C/3 ■'.•&\ The wortliieHyftorie Of ti)tmmt Mom ^m 7'aliaunt flight flaftdas, tbertoife calleD Eufias,tD^o was martyred for the Pro- Gathcmlin EngUpt verfciylahit farti-idz^M thcycrc of ow Lard.v!66. at London y hy Henry e Beii^am, tax ^^omas \hr4&>x^mm^^M E.V. ^ To the worshipfiill Arthur Dwabene, Marchatjnt ventttree, his seruante and dayly oratour John Partridge wisheth increase of worship, by his worthy trauayle. What tyme, right Worshipful!, the moste excellent Philosopher of y* worlde, Democritus was demaunded of a frend, what was the chiefeste beste amongeste men in all the worlde, verely (quoth he) a pacient man in miserie. The other replying, and demaunding the cause of that his assertion, he answered and sayde : eyther he is not in miserie at all, or else armed most strongly and surely agaynste all aduersities what so euer they be, that shall happen vnto him. By pacience, sayth he, of a thousande euilles he is not at all any whit molested. Anaxagoras the Philosopher, borne of a noble stocke, and sonne to Eubullus, who in Philosophic dyd exceede, sayeth that he himself could find nothing more excellent in war, than this one thing, that is, a Souldier to be hardy, and also chiefely aboue all other things, the same to be likewise trustie and pacient to indure trauayle, payne, and other kind of miseries that shall happen or befall vnto him in that conflicte of war in which he then is conuersaunte. Alexander I meane the greate, hauing made war against the Persians and of the had made gret slaughter, the king of Persia being of a noble corage bolde, stoute, pacient and hardy, hauing taken a castle or hold for his defence, and beeing in tyme brought in subiection to the Macedonians, was demaundfed of Alex- ander in what poynt he sawe himselfe not to be ouercome, to whome B 2 The Epistle. the King of Persia answered in this wise : Sir king, in no point at all am I ouercome. Alexander hering him saye so, demannded if he had not lost both friends, cutries, castles, townes, and all thinges else, yes verily (quoth he) and yet am I not ouercoe : for though they be gone, yet can I with pacience beare the losse of the same. Oh greate was the pacience of this King, yet verily nothing in compa- rison of his, whome I haue taken to write vpon. Therefore I deem- ing nothing more fyt for a good nature than to set forth so notable a fact of pacience, as this was, haue at the request of a speciall friend of mine, drawen the same though rudely yet hoping not with- out some proflte, eyther of myself, or of som other. And bicause that to euery castle, towne, citie, worke or workemanshippe, there belongeth defence : and knowing that defence canne not be made wythout some one defender, I am so bolde (consydering mine owne weakenesse) to dedicate this my simple worke vnto youre worship, that your wisedome may bee the defence thereof agaynst the ran- corous Zoilictes, whiche at all tymes from the beginning haue bene readie to breathe the fylth of their cancred stomackes vpon those most famous works of the excellentest clearkes that euer were, whose bokes I am not worthye to beare, knowing likewyse that if those went not fre, mine can not. Therfore I hoping of your wor- ships defence, am boldened the more in prosecuting of the same. Thus trusting to your goodnesse, I end, desiring God to mayntayne your estate, and sonde you long life and good health, to his pleasure and your heartes desire. ) ( Your humble seruaunt, loHN Partridge. Let pacience increase by kinde, within thy dolefall breast : Let that swete dame within thy howse, haue hir abyding neast. Consider, viewe and vnderstande, what liquor doth descende : Out of hir Welles, from perils great, the same will thee defende. The stinking bande of fowle dispaire, thy state shall not molest : Ne slaughter in thy gates shall not, to strike be ready prest, For Socrates doth playne declare, no other good to be : Than wrapt in woes a"nd pinching cares, a pacient one to see. The saincts haue shewed what pacience is, howe precious in Gods sight : In stories we may reade and finde, how much they did delight, Por to be founde ia miseries, in pacience to dweU : Whereof to ys this story doth most playnely shewe and tell. What patience had lob I flnde, such patience is rare : To the Reader. A thousand Martirs I with him, may very well compare. What was the pacience of those, whome flashing flry flames : Bereft of life, yet coulde it not, at all extinct their fames. For fame for good desert doth rest, behinde though they be gone : Bicause we might pursue the like, and oft thinke thervpon. Therefore let vs pursue the same, and then we shal be sure : Eor to possesse that glorious crowne, that lastes and shall endure. After that earth, yea birdes and beastes, shall be consumed to nought : Which crowne to vs O Lord do graunt, that with thy bloud vs bought. ^ije VtiWU of tije ISoofte. Learne here thou shalt one God most hie To rule the heauens the earth and all : The Sunne, the Moone, the starry Skie, Subiect to be vnto his call. Of pacience likewise reade thou shalt, Which is a gift of all most pure : Aboue the rest I thee ensure. Gods prouidence here thou shalt knowe, His great good will I doe declare : His mighty force I playne doe showe, Reade on therfore and doe not spare. Though that my skill be very bare, Yet fruite hereby well take you may : If it to reade you wil assay. In whome to put thy trust be bolde, In whome to ioy here thou mayst see : A treasure passing any golde. Or precious stones what that they be. The same I doe declare to thee, To reade me therefore take some payne : And that I count my authors gayne. 6 The Bookes Verdicte. Farewell my friendes for for your sakes, My author hath abrode me sent : I passe not for all erahbed crakes, That Zoilus to make is bent. For all for you my author meant, When that in hand his pen he toke : And out this storie first did loke. Patienter ferenda quse mutari non possunt. Sometyme in Eomane lande there was, a king of noble fame : Wiio was full faire in martiall feates, and Trayan had to name. Who vnder him of lusty knightes did keepe a comely trayne : And ouer them he poynted hath, One knight as Capitaine. This knight to name had Plasidas, one whome the king did loue : Por martiall feates that in this knight, did shine the rest aboue. A wife he had of glistering hew, of shape both faire and trim : Of louing minde, of gladsome heart, and trusty vnto him. By her he had two children fayre, surmounting Phoebus bright : Who for their manly courage stout, compare with him they might. The prouerbe olde is verified, vpon these babies twaine : By splendent courage they assay, their honoures to maintaine. The father he before doth striue, to runne a happy rase : The manly children parent like, do followe on apace. 8 The Nolle History And sekes for to obtayne the crowne, of honour and of prayse : Which to atchieue the noble hearts, indeuour still alwayes. They spende their tyme with ioy and blisse their labour they imploy : According to their parentes mindes, their hope and perfect ioy. Such bookes these babes did leam to reade as present tyme did giue : Which might their tender yeares trade vp in Mametrie to Hue. Thus they in whom all tendernesse, of age did still remaine : Were taught the labour tedious, of study to sustaine. The parentes eke imploy their dayes, good learning to attaine : And now and then they finde pastime, their griefes for to restraine. Sometime on hunting he doth ride, sometyme to Chesse they goe : Sometime great doutes they do decide, that in the B-ealme might growe. This was the vse of Plasidas, his minde to recreate : This vsed eke his children deare, O blessed happy fate. The stormy winter dayes hath left, with misty cloudes to swell : And Phoebus bright appointed is, more nearer vs to dwell. Of Plasidas. 9 And Eolus no pleasure takes to dim the ayre with cloudes : And Phoebus nowe is quite deuoide, of fogges his beames that shrowdes. Then doth Aurora leaue the bed Of Titan, and doth bring : Some ioyes to men, the wished day beholding once to spring. And trees and hearbes with ioyfull heart, do shew their pleasaunt hew : And Knights in Forrests bende their force ' , the Bucke for to subdew. Then Plasidas with comely traine, of knightes of royall kinde : Do enter now the greene Porestes, a Bucke foorth for to finde. At legth he came where bucks great store, did stande confusedly : And ech man now doth bend him selfe, his lusty Stede to try. Now here and there the harmelesse Buck, assayeth for to runne : And Plasidas at one faire Bucke, to ryde he hath begonne. The other knightes amongst the Buckes, in fieldes abrode do raunge : But Plasidas foUoweth hard, this Bucke and wiU not chaunge. At length in thickst of woods I say, the Bucke doth enter in : And then more fiercely hir to sew, this knight doth straight beginne. c 10 The Nohle History Till at tlie last tlie Bucke had tooke, a Mountaine huge and hye : And there the huge and lofty Bucke, Plasidas did discry. But as he was addicted sore, the Bucke with force to take : The mighty God in Skyes aboue, his seruaunt did him make. And out from cloudes he called to him, his IdoUes to detest : Which by and by fel in a swoune, and so he left the beast. Then there he layde his sprangling corps, almost deuoyde of breath : . I am thy God then sayd the Lord, which bought thee with my death. My very bloud doth iustifle, in me thou hast thy life : Go wende in hast the Lorde can say, conuert thy Heathen wife. Thy children eke let them be taught, one God to honour pure : Then thou my kingdome shalt possesse, hereof thou mayst be sure. Where thou shalt liue eternally, if thou this life detest : And shalt if thou fight manfully, for aye with me be blest. Arise therfore go wende in hast, this life is but as grasse : To day full faire (hir gHstring hew,) to morow quite is past. of Plasidas. 11 Those stocks and stones the which thou doest as Goddes adorne with prayse : Are in my sight Idolatrous, therefore eschewe those wayes. Arise I say and get thee hence, make hast thee to baptise : And see thou do conuert thy wife, I say in any wise. Apalled sore with feare and dreade, the Knight straight wayes did say : Haue mercy Lord, and me forgiue, I hartly do thee pray. Stand vp thou knight then sayd the Lord, thy sinnes remitted be : Do thou not feare for Sathan wUl, thee plague with misery. Then downe he sat with stretched handes to God he gaue the prayse : And sayde, to thee that sittes on hye, be honour due alwayes. That hast vouchsafe this day to call, thy seruaunt gone astray : Euen as a sheepe by fortune strayed, out of the herde away. I do confesse thou onely arte, my comfort and my trust : And eke my God, and thy promyse, thou kepest true and iust. No part thereof thou violatest, thou art both God and man : These stockes, these stones be Diuels yll, do vs no good they can. c2 12 The Noble History Thee therefore I do worship still, thou madest the worlde of naught And I the Image of thy grace, that thou of earth hast wrought. I do confesse my heauenly king, that no good is in me : But that the goodnesse which I haue, doth all discende from thee. Without thy grace and goodnesse, I no day at all can say : But that I should be ouerthrowen, and brought to deathes decay. But thou O God art my defence, my aide, my hope, and trust: Thou art my king, my God, my Lord, my sauiour true and iust. O Lord I know that Sathan will, with cares my soule molest : But thou O Lord in pacience, defende my carefuU brest, Let me with pacience still abide, thy gracious laysure good : And graunt also to me full hope, in thy most precious bloud. That what so euer illes do hap, vnto thy seruaunt here : With willing minde the burden huge, with pacience I may here. Graunt also that dispayre do not, molest my quiet state : Ne that I should in any wise, incurre thy heauy hate. Of Plasidas. 13 But give me Lord a minde alwayes, obedient for to bee ; Unto thy best, and to submit my will alwayes to thee. So shall I be a most fitte braunch, ingrafted in the tree : Of Huing dayes, and at the last, shall euer raigne with thee. To whome be prayse eternally, both now and euer more : One only God though persons three, as I haue sayd before. Then at the last this noble knight, from Porrest made returne : And thought within his hunting race, no longer to soiourne. But home he commes in posting wise^ The knightes they after hye : And some the chase will follow on, the ende thereof to trye. The mighty Buckes lye dead on launde, the Palfrayes they do sweate i And from their frothy mouthes they breath the inward partching heate. Now here now there with launce in hand, the marshall knightes do runne : And at the last they haue espyed, how Plasidas did come. Prom out the groues so greene which was beset with many a tree : With heauy chere much like vnto, a man in miserie. 14 The Noble History When they perceyued well that he, with sorrow was infect : They mused much, yet of that hapte, they nothing did suspect. Then home they go and some doe lade, the pray that they haue slaine : And other some for their repastes, in Porrestes do remaine. At length Plasidas doth ariue, before his Castle gate : His wife to welcome home hir Loue, is ready sone thereat. Prom gate to Hall they do ascende, and there the bourdes be spred : The sunne is downe, and time it is, for men to goe to bed. The chamberlaynes the bed downe lay, and fiej? in chamber make : And nowe Plasidas he is come, his corporall rest to take. When he in bed had layne a while, great griefes he did sustayne : And so at length his minde to breake, he purposeth certaine. At length his wife perceyuing that, no rest her Mate could finde : She did procure him for to shewe, what dreade was in his minde. At length he sayde, oh louing mate, the cause sith thou wouldest know : Of these my cares so huge and fell, to thee them I will showe. Of Plasidas. 15 This day (quoth he) as I abrode In Eorrest thicke did runne : A mighty Bucke his race to take, before me hath beguniie. At whom I sued with all my might, and force that I could make : At length the Bucke for his defence, the densid woodes doth take. And there the Bucke I do pursue, on loftie steede amaine : Till that the toppe of one great hill, he seketh to attaine. And there from out the skyes did breake, A voyce like thunders cry : Eor feare wherof almost my breath, to Skyes away did fly. Quoth he I am thy very God, ne made but being still : Both heauen and earth, yea Skyes and al obeyes vnto my will. I made them all, and thee O man, as Lorde of earth to bee : The fishe, the foules, the birdes, the beast, shall all obey to thee. And for the loue which I thee bare, my Image I thee made : A lining soule the life wherof, away shall neuer fade. Thus art thou now my Image pure, and I thy Lorde and king : Thou art the shepe whom I do loue, aboue all earthly thing. 16 The Nolle History By this my loue I did declare, wlien thou wast vtterly : Condemned for thy wickednesse, eternally to dye. I loued thee so that I did take, a seruaunts shape on me : For to be slaine euen as a sheepe, at Sacrifice we see. And thou vnkinde forgetting quite, what I for thee haue done : Hast made thee Goddes, and of vile earth, a God is now become. Yet I bicause I tender thee. And rewe thy heauy fall : Vouchsafe againe thee to the folde, once more from sinne to call. Repent therefore and learne to knowe, thy God, thy Lord, and King : So shalt thou with him eterne Hue, where Angels holy sing. ^Forsake thy Idolles and become, si Christian now at last : And He remitte and quite forgiue, thy wickednesse forepaste. Arise therefore go wende in hast, make speede for to conuert : Thy gentle wife, that honour shee, may me with all hir heart. O Lord I quoth I) if Sathan do, with care my corps molest : Be thou my ayde, let pacience still, abide within my brest. Of Plasidas. 17 Do thou defende our sinful! corps, O Lorde we thee desire : That by thy death vnto the crowne of Ufe we may asspire. Then sayd the Lorde with troubles great, Sathan shall thee anoye : By fraude in frendship such as erst, with thee were wont to toye. And speake thee faire, with cap and knee, at euery worde do make : Now in thy fall and miserie, their flattering leaues shall take. And not content with rayHng voice, reprochfuU wordes to say : But eke are bent to spoyle thy Tent, thy goodes to beare away. Which thou shalt by my grace diuiiie, with pacience beare thy losse : And at the length when I see time. He take away this crosse. And will againe in former state, thee place with ioy and blesse : With double f olde, and shalt againe possesse thy lost rychesse. Then downe I fell in swouning there, and loud and shirle I cryed : Oh Lord thy seruaunt wiU I be, hap me what will betide. These were the wordes when sacred tops, of mountaines great and tall : He left, O Plasidas go home, thy wife see that thou call. D 18 The Noble History Then sayd his wife, my louing Lord, Plasidas so true : He is the God of heauen and earth', that did appeare to you, For yester night as I did lye, iu hed with heauy minde : Me thought before me one most faire, in. chamber I did finde. Appalled sore twixt f eare and dreade, at length to me he spake : And sayd, O Theapis from slope, and drousinesse awake. To morrow shall thy husbande dere, what I am well perceaue : I am thy Christ and went his way, and thus he tooke his leaue. This for to shewe my louing Lord, 1 durst no whit to thee : Least happely thou mightst haue thought, in me some iniury. But now I knowe and well perceyue, that that was Christ in deede : He is of God coequaU mate, and eke of Dauids seede. To him therfore with thankes giuing, on Elutes and Pypes full shrill : Our Sacrifices vnto him, on Aultars wiU we kiU. This is the Prophet which to vs, full long was prophecied : This is the very sonne of him, who Starres in Skyes doth guide. Of Plasidas. 19 Therefore my Lord if that thee please, of baptisme let vs take : The sacrament, and then let vs, our Country soyle forsake. Then sayd the knight, faire dame at hand. Doth rest a clarke of fame : A Minister of sacred rightes, who Buno hath to name. A comely man, of f ayth most pure, to him straight we will wende : For rightes of Baptisme to receyue, I verily do pretend. Our children eke he baptise shaU, according vnto right : And thus to him they went in hast, in middest of the night. And when they baptisme had receyued, as now the maner is : Plasidas, Eustas had to name, his wife is Theapis. His children eke whom nature made, of beauty passing faire : Were tender ones, thone Agapite, Theospite was the heyre. Thus baptisme done vnto their house, agayne they do repaire : And there in peace a while they liue, both honestly and faire. At length the sturdy boystrous blastes, of Sathan gins to rore : Euen as the water from a hyll, or as a myghty Bore. d2 20 The Noble History Which, of some wight receyued hath, a wound both huge and great : Or as the flashing waues of floudes, that craggie rockes doth beate. With hurling here and there hir streames, indeuoring for to weare : The ragged bankes which of their floudes, the crabbyd rage doth beare. Much like vnto a battayle made, a Oitie for to get : And munition with bumiag strokes, to sacke the walles is set. And breach is made, and houses burne, and souldiers nowe beginne : For ioy of spoyle, by vitall breath not for to set a pinne. Or else when as a Lion great, doth range with angry moode : With hungrie chawes amid the woods, doth seeke to haue his foode. And he that first within his sight, appeares that he may see : With gasping mouth on him he runnes, deuoured for to bee. So Sathan now in roving wise, on Plasidas doth runne : His sheepe and cattell for to slay, already hath begimne. Then Plasidas to pouertie, is brought the ready way : And eke when that his fayned friendes, perceyued his decay, Of Plasidas. 21 They runne his house to spoyle and sacke, his goodes they beare away : Euen those "whom he had feasted earst, before his great decay. These pampered churles that sit all day, at tables dayntie fed : Who by all mischieuous crabbed guiles, with stinking heart is led. Whome neyther loue ne hate can driue, from out the Castell dore : They learned haue so for to rowe, with the Athenien oare. I may such persones well compare, vnto a pype or tonne : That hath good wine to outwarde sight, in which there is poyson. For they themselues so beautifie, their wordes in inward showe : But poyson much is hyd therein, as afterwardes we knowe. Thus Plasidas from great renoume, to pouertie is brought : And where he was a royall Knight, nowe is he worse than nought. Thus then when shame had ouertoke, this worthy knight, then loe : In midst of all the darkesome night, from house and friends they goe. To water side, and there doe wayte, when lofty ship shall glyde : On foming seas, the winde is good, for them on seas to ryde. 22 The Noble History They do inquire if any sMp, to countrey farre will wende : To whome the Master aunswere made, that straight they did intende. To hoyse their sayles and to departe, to Egipt in all hast : Agreed they are, they hoyse their sayles, to sayle away at last. The lande they leaue, into the deepe, they latmce with winde at will : The mighty shippe the hoUowe wanes, at euery surge doth fiU. The night is gone and day is come, wherein eche thing doth ioy : And here the lusty fish begin, at paynted pupe to toy. With fetching frischoes here and there, with spready finne in sea : And seemeth who fastest should swimme, some wager for to lay. They sayled haue and now at length, neere Egipt they ariue : The Master of the ship doth like, the beautie of the wife. Of Plasidas, and doth delight, his wauering wanton minde : With rolHng in his diuelish brayne, the beautie of hir kinde. She pleased hath his lothfull eyes, with beauties shining beames : Fro whence sometime did yssue out, of teares abundant streames. Of Plasidas. 23 Then at the last when vnto land, they drewe, and playne did see : The tonret tops, and knewe full well, how far from lande they be. The Master of the ship did say, yon passangers we see : That nere to land our ship is come, therefore nowe ready be. For that you haue your fraught to pay, as due it is by right : Come on sir boy, launce out this boate, the towne is here in sight. The anker then through flashing floud, a way doth make for holde : And there to ryde from daungers great, the Master is full bolde. The Master and the Mariners guide, the cocke boate vnto lande : Then he his fraight for to receiue, he streteheth forth his hande. Yet nought at all from Plasidas, might hap in any wayes : Eor all was gone, and naught was left, before he toke the seas. Why Plasidas the Master sayd, thy wife He haue away : If that thou wilt not out of hand, my duetie to me pay. Then out of hande he toke his wife, Plasidas being on shoare : And sayd, y" friend thou shuldst haue sought thy frayght to pay before. 24 The Nolle History Therefore I say tliy wife with me, away from hence shall wende : With whome Plasidas all in vayne, did labour and contende, To kepe hir stiU, the Master straight. His Mariners bad to bring : Plasidas loe ia midst of seas, by furious force to fling. So that his wife the Master he, at will might then possesse : His wilfulnesse brought him his death, in thende as I doe gesse. Well Plasidas must needes departe, whether he wUl or nay : Por money none at aU he had, as then, the frayght to pay. But from the shoares of surging seas, with heauy minde doth wende : And for to Hue in Egipt lande, he verily doth intende. With his two babes of tender yeares, so faire in natures grace : The one on fathers armes hanging, both followe on a pace, The other he doth runne afore, with euery grasse to play : His father mery for to make, all meanes he doth assay. At length wher flashing streames of flouds, the shoares doth oleane deuide : They are ariued, and there they stande, the maner to decide. Of Plasidas. 25 How for to passe those troublesome waues for needes that way he must : Unto the towne, O fortune thou to good men neuer iust. Who earst a loft in chaire of state, was wonte in peace to syt : Is now in floudes of miserie, and thou not leauing it, Doest adde more care vnto his payne, thy fashion it is so : Bycause thou wouldest that aU men shuld take thee for friend nor foe. What mourning makes y' wight good lord whome wife is borne fro : And taking vp his yongest sonne, from dolefuU shoares doth go. To thother side where woodes and trees, on fertile ground doth stande : He is ariued, and there doth set, his tender childe on lande. And entring nowe the rushing wanes, that soundes with noyse so shrill : He doth approch the hollow wanes, in myddest thereof to fill. When he in myddest was thereof, there came a Woulfe and tooke : The tender chUde who late before, was borne ouer the brooke. And bare away, but God who made, the heauen the earth and all : Did so prouide that once no hurt, vnto it should befall. E 26 The noble History He seeing then h.is childe was gone, with dolefull minde he cride : Oh wicked wretch and miser yile, what shall of me betide ? And commiiig nowe to the other side, his eldest sonne to catch : A Lion huge from wood doth come, and thother vp doth snatch. Which straight doth trudge from thence away, vnto the wood agayne : A heauy sight for Plasidas, in this his dolefull payne. But Plasidas pore soule doth striue, his childe to get againe : But he pore wretch of very truth, laboureth aU in vayne. When that he sawe no helpe there ■was, good Lorde he doth lament : But mighty God the childe to saue, hath rescue ready sent. The countrey men that were as then, a plowing in the fielde : The heard men eke that sheepe did kepe, did stand and all behelde. Where as a Lion huge did runne, and eke with him did beare : A manly childe, and loked as though, in pieces he would teare. Then out they sent their hungry dogs, the Lion to ouertake. And so at length the Lion he, the childe did quite forsake. of Plasidas. 27 The Woulfe likewise to beare the childe, abeady hath begunne : Through mydst of the plow men there, and they at him do runne With battes and staues, the praye he left, and there the childe they founde : A comely wight, no hurt he had. But was both whole and sounde. The plowe men and the heard men both, are ioyous of this thing : That chaunced hath, and to the towne, the children both they bring. There they declare how that they toke, these tender babes of age : Prom beasts ful fierce, and how they brought them home to their Tillage. These men they were both of one towne, and set the babes to schole : To learne such things as after they, thereby their life might rule. Nowe leaue we here a while and stay, and let vs furder heare : Of Plasidas how he doth range, in dolefuU heauy cheare. He passed is the watrie streames, of that vnhappy shoare : With sobbes and teares his cares and smart, increaseth more and more. And then at last vpon the ground, prostrate on face he lies : Haue mercy Lord on me vile wretch, continually he cries. E 2 28 The noble History Thou god that madest both heauen and erth, the sea and eke eohe thing : "Which al the windes from out their caues, and hollowe rockes dost bring. That madest the world and eke eche beast, that liueth now therein : Who makest pore, and eke dost cause, of pore to ryse a King. Who made the Sea, the fish, the foule, that flies vnder the Skies : Who rules the very iawes of beastes, in whom all force now lies. Who placed first the heauenly throne, of thy Godhead diuine : Who eke hath made within the world, both houres, dayes and time. Thou that didst make the firmament, with Stars shining so bright : Thou that for day didst make the Sunne, mens steps to guide aright. Thou that hast made the planets seauen, in spheares to runne their race : Thou that next to the croked Moone, the burning flame doest place. And next to it a vacant place, where aire doth all abounde : The water eke which compasse doth, the heauy massiue grounde. That hast to man such power giuen, « thy noble workes to knowe : And yet on him of thy good grace, dost dayly more bestowe. Of Plasidas. 29 Graunt vnto me thy seruaunt here, one sparke of thy good grace : That in this land I may now finde, some ioyfull resting place. Euen I that wretch who is deuoyde, of wife and children twaine : Giue pacience Lord, to me pore wretch, though languished in payne. Haue mercy upon my children deare, where so their corps shall lie : Haue mercy on their parent eke, who lines in miserie. This sayde, vnto the towne he goeth, and ceasseth not to weepe : For children twaine, at last he commeth, in middest of the streate. And there the men of that same towne, do Plasidas desire : To kepe their sheepe, and so he should, of them receyue his hire. Agreed they are, and Plasidas, his sheepe full well doth knowe : And now forthwith vnto the fleldes, his sheepe and he do goe. Now leaue we heare of Plasidas, in shepheardes weede for gayne : Sometime he was a noble Lorde, but now more pore certayne. But now we forth will shewe the meane, how God did all prouide : For mother and the children eke, as it may well be spide 30 The noble History In ende, for loe, the fatall wretch, hath his rewarde with gayne : His great desire was once the cause, why that his corps was slayne. Eor when on lofty roaring wanes, he was with winde at will : He then in hast would strayght assay, his lust for to fulfill. But as he woiild by force of armes, haue wrought the deedely acte : The mighty God with death repayde, this his purposed facte. And there in shippe aU deade he lies, whose lust did cause his woe : The mariners lament this case, and eke to lande they goe. With hir, on shoare to set, and eke more victuals for to buy : "When winde is faire to cuntry soyle, againe that they may hye. And much they prayse hir constancie, hir beautie and hir grace : Hir faithfulnesse vnto hir Loue, in this hir heaxiie case. The Lorde they praise and honor him, with aU their might they haue : That so of his benignitie, his blessed flocke can saue. Then when to shore their boate was come, she there hir leaue doth take : And willingly not with them any longer soiorne to make. Of Plasidas. 31 Doth wende vnto a towne thereby, intending there to Hue : Untill that God shall see his tyme, hir from hir cares to meue. Thus fiftene yeares all desolate, she lines in widdowes ray : Hir honest life not one there is, in aU that towne that may Distaine. And loe it so befell, since Plasidas was gone : That enimies the B/omane lande, do vexe and warre vpon. At whome the King enuying sore, doth warre on them beginne : But all in vaine his trauell was, he lost, and nought could winne. Then of his Knight good Plasidas to thinke he doth beginne : And wishing alwayes that he were, in Bomane land with him. At length the King doth sende abrode, through many a place and towne : His lusty Knightes in hast to seeke, Plasidas of renovvme. And bring him home to Bomane lande, where earst he was the Knight : That did most harme vnto his foes, by mortall dint of fight. And who that findes the same in ende, the king would honour giue : With riches eke in honour great, all dayes of life to line. 32 The noble History Within the armie of the King, two Knightes there were certayne : Who euer under Plasidas, in warres did much remayne. They into Egipt land do goe, some newes for to heare tell : Of Plasidas, and loe they chaunce, in streate where he doth dwell. And Plasidas from field doth come, as they were entred in : Then to inquire of Plasidas, the Knightes doe now begin. If that he knewe not one, within that towne that had to name : Plasidas, who of chiualrie, did beare away the fame. He aunswered them, and sayd forsooth, no such man I doe knowe : But yet he doth the Knightes desire, vnto his house to goe. And take such things as he poore soule, vnto them then might giue : Which might their weary faynting lims, from wearinesse relieue. With whom they went with al their harts and their repastes did take : With such small cheere as he good man, at that time could them make. But when he did reuolue in minde, the state that he was in : Sometime with them, good Lord therefore, to weepe he doth begin. Of Plasidas. 33 Then went he out from chamber where, the Knightes did then remaine : To wash his face, and afterwardes, retume to them againe. But whilest he was from them a time, they thought that it was he : Whome they appoynted were to seeke, and so agreed they be. At his retourne for to demaund, some licence and some leaue : To see a wounde which sometime he, in battayle did receaue. At length he commes, and they to him, with gentle wordes doe speake : Good sir sayd they, much like thou arte, to him whome we doe seeke. Therefore of thee we do desire, this one thing for to loke Upon thy head, for such a wounde, that he in battayle toke. They then behelde the wound, and knewe, full well that it was he : No tong can then expresse their ioy, fulfilled so they be. With stretched armes they him embrace, desiring him to tell : Where that his children are become, and where his wife doth dwell. Then aunswered he and sayd his sonnes were ref te of vitall breath : And as he thought, his wife likewise tasted of cruell death, r 34 The noble History And howe the Master had his wife, vnto the Knightes he tolde : And how by force of armes from him, his wife he did with holde. This done, in hast throughout the land, reporte doth hlowe this thing : The neyghboures then do hast vnto, Plasidas pore lodging. With maruelling, much like vnto A swarme of bees they goe : About the house, and there the knightes, their message forth do shew. And then they ray sir Plasidas, with vestementes of price : Then from their seates to walke a while, the lusty Knightes arise. In hast they leaue that ioyfull soyle, and homewarde do they wende : They are ariued in Romane lande, ere fyftene dayes were ende. The Emperour then when that he heard, that Eustas was at hande : Doth ioy that God hath sent this Knight, agayne vnto his lande. Now Trayan he doth ryde in hast, Plasidas for to meete : And ioyfull Trayan Plasidas, his louing friend doth greete. Then Trayan with Plasidas, vnto his court doth goe : With great frequent of people that, behind them did foUowe, Of Plasidas. 35 When he came there, of al his happes, he doth declare and tell : Of all the woes and miseries, that vnto hym befell. How his wife was taken him fro, how children both were slayne : And how himselfe nowe fyftene yeares, did Hue in dolefull payne. From thence they goe to banketting, to reuels and to play : In dauncing and in minstrelsie, they spend that lucky day. And Plasidas is made I say. Lieutenant of the bande : And all the ordering of the warres, is put into his hande. He then before him calles the Knightes, and doth their number take : Intending vp an armie great, in hast forthwith to make. And doth commaund that strayght, eche towne to him should sende : Two lusty men with Plasidas, mto the warres to wende. It happened so that that same towne, two souldiers forth must make : Which from the Lion and the Woulfe, those tender babes did take. At length the townes men do agree, that both these children should : Goe with the Knight, with willing mindes and heartes, euen so they would. p2 36 The noble History The countrie men these soaldiers twayne, did bring vnto the Knight : Their maners and their comelie shape, did much his minde delight. Wherefore with first at table he, hath placed the same to be : Bycause in them such noblenesse, of maners he did see. The day is come, to battayle they, must wende euen out of hand : And now they must the great assault, of cruell foes withstande. The battayles great on eyther part, the flames do reach the Skie : The roaring sound of Canons shot, the force of waUes doth trie. The Knightes with launce in hand I say, do pearce throughout the throng : The souldier doth assay to lay, his enimie all along. The battayle standes in doubt of truth, which side shall other beate : Here martch they on amayne and there, they blowe agayne retreate. Here all along on ground they lie, and here from tourets hie : The deadly shaft through mistey cloudes, aloft in Skies doe flie. And here in flesh it Hghtes full deepe, and giues a deadly wound : And in an other parte there is, a thousand brought to ground. Of Plasidas. 37 Here fighteth Plasidas ful harde, in midst of all tlie throng : And here the children parent like, slay enimies along. They forwarde doe retire in hast, and men. afore do lacke : And Plasidas assayles his foes, behinde vpon their backe. The wings that were the ayde and helpe, of f oote men, goe their way : The battayles lost, all through defaede, of keping their aray. The wings are fled, and battayle must by footemen stand awhile : The battayls great, but at the length, they are brought to exile. The enimies flie from fielde amaine, and Romanes f oUowe styll : Upon the chase, for they did minde, their cruell foes to kyU. E-etreate is blowen, and home agayne, to oampe the souldiers hie : That willing were, eyther their foes, or they in chase to die. The towne is made full strong and sure, with rampiers for shotte : And eke eche syde of all the towne, with munition is hotte. The scaling lathers downe to throwe, they haue their iron staues : They haue their hatchets for to cut, in sunder all their raues. ^8 The nolle History Some stand with slings from far to strike, the E-omane armies great : Some stand with billes those that assault, with furious force to beate : The pike men they on waUes doe stande, their towne for to defende : And some from towre with how in hande, the graygoose wing do sende. The labourers do mende the walles, with gonshot aU to shake : The townes men aU within, the towne, do seeke defence to make. And sluises al are opened, to stop the enimies way : Least that to scale their walles by night, the enimie doe assay. The night is come, and it doth parte the armies for that time : The watch man he aloft in towre, beginneth for to cHme. The warde at gate is kept all night, the soiildiers stand in ray : That when the onset shall be giuen, resist their foes they may. The night is gone, and breake of day, beginneth to drawe nie : By which the watch man in the towre, the armie may discrie. And see from farre howe Plasidas, doth order aU his bande : How that he telleth them the way, their foes for to withstande. OfPlasidas. 39 He doth declare, as he can deeme, what number that they be : And doth espie if any troupe, of horse men he may see. That doth aproch vnto the towne, for to increase their feare : Plasidas sent horse men forth, to range both here and there. To see if that they enter would, from towne, and would descend : In open fielde by force of armes, their citie to defende. But they within did kepe themselues, . in order for to fight : Then had the day quite droue away, the lothsome mystes of nyght. And Plasidas his comely trayne, vnto the walles doth bring : The which the watch man weU perceyued, and al arme out doth ring. To walles they goe both tagge and ragge, their Citie to defende : And euery man his businesse, doth duely nowe intende. The pushing pikes stand next the walles, their enimies downe to fling : The stelly boyes the heauy earth, on shoulders thither bring. The sunne from depth of Occean sea, did scarce himselfe areare : When as the Eomane armie did, before the towne appeare. 40 The noble History And then the gonnes the way doe make, through walles of stone and bricke : And eke the flames of fiers do, the tops of houses licke. The Romanes, they bring to the walles, their scaling lathers hie : With iron hookes, vnto the tops of houses for to tie. Now aU the walles of Romanes stout, is tilled to the ende : And more and more continually, vpon the walles ascends. The towne is wonne, and Plasidas in midst thereof is set : And aU their labour is as nowe, the spoyle thereof to get. The towne to dust is quite consumde, and burnt with scorching fire : The trumpets sound triumphantly, to cause their men retire. Then after when the towne is wonne, and all was brought to ground : A restiag place for all his bande, there in. a towne he found. In which his wife did dwell, and kept a house for hostage there : To whome hir sonnes for harbor then, vnto hir do repaire. Not knowing what she was, in deede, they there their restes doe take : And for their noble victories, great ioy they oft do make. OJ Plasidas. 41 At last the yonger doth desire, the elder for to tell : His yong estate, and what to him, in childehode oft befell. Whose talke the silly mother oft, did listen much to knowe : Some newes by "warriers stoutly done, and affcerwardes might showe. The same rnto hir friendes that list, oft times of warres to talke : Therefore full oft I say she doth, before the chamber walke. At last the eldest sayd, good friend, I doe remember well : Howe that my father rulde the Knightes of E/ome that did excell. And eke a Lady f aire I had, to mother well I knowe : Two children eke they had full fayre, I weU remember so. My yonger brother was full faire, surmounting in degree : All other men, so rich he was, with giftes of dame beautie. Long did they Hue in ioy and blisse, within that lande I know : But yet by night he toke a shippe, and from that lande did goe. Unto a countrey not farre thence, the name I doe not knowe : The shippe is come vnto the porte, and then to land we goe. G 42 Tlie nolle History My mother she behinde was left, but howe I can not say : But as I iudge, the Master he, my mother there did stay. And then from thence we did depart, vnto a towne thereby : With heauy minde, vntill he came, vnto a great ferry. And there he set me downe on ground, and ouer strayght he bore : His yonger sonne ouer the floud, vnto the other shore. And entring now the floud agayne, me thither for to fetch : A cruel Woulfe my brother yong, vp in his mouth doth catch. And wendes his way vnto the wood, my brother loud doth cry : My father stiU he striued harde, agayne to me to hie. But out alas, a Lion huge came from the wood amaine : And snatcht vp me, and to the wood he did returne agayne. But when the Lion great and tall, the heard men they doe see : Their dogs they set vpon the beast, and so they saued me. The yonger sayd, my brother deare, euen as I heard it tolde : The plowmen toke me from a Woulfe, which had me in his holde. Of Plasidas. 43 By that thou saydst, coniecture I, thy brother that I am : Loe happy day they both doe say, that vnto warres we came. The ioy that they doe make forsoth, no tong can it expresse : No heart can thinke, no eye hath seene, such blessed ioyfulnesse. The mother then hath heard their talke, and ponder it well doth she : And doth reuolue within hir minde, if that hir babes they be. Then vnto Plasidas she goeth, and doth desire him sone : That he would let hir goe with him, for she was borne at Rome. And as to him these wordes she spake, in sounding she oft fell : And cried at length, O Plasidas, I knowe thee very well. I am thy wife pore Theopis, which taken was thee fro : In midst of floudes, when thou from ship, vnto the land didst goe. The mighty God of heauen and earth, for thee hath kept me cleane : The Master he for liis deserte, by darte of death is slayne. Then Plasidas doth well perceyue, his wife, his loue and make : His heart, his life, and vnto him, in armes he doth hir take. g2 44 The noble History What ioy was there I can not tell, my fingers weary be : To write the same, my eyes like that, in world did neuer see. The wife the husband doth embrace, the man the wife likewise : The ioy to shewe, the teares doe gushe, like streames from out their eyes. And in their ioy, the wife demaundes, where that hir children be : Then he did say, my louing wife, their deaths myselfe did see. Two cruel beastes with f oming mouthes, our children both hath slayne : Then sayd his wife be of good cheere, aliue they both remaine. Eor loe, the God which vnto vs, this ioyfull meeting gaue : By his good grace and power diuine, did both our children saue. Then him she tolde how souldiers twaine, their inf ancie did showe : And strayght he sent for those yong men, the truth of them to knowe. The children both vnto him come, and eche of them doth tell : His infancie, by which he knoweth, they be hys sonnes full well. He then doth kisse and eke embrace, those tender babes of his : The armie then for newes hereof, in heart right ioyfull is, Of Plasidas. 45 They spende those dayes in ioy and blisse, and after do intende : To E-omane lande triumphantly his hoste and he to wende. But whUest in warres he did abyde, good Trayan was deade : And Adrian in the Empire, succeeded in his steade. Who in all mischieues did abounde, as stories vs doe tell : For persecuting of the truth, he did the rest excell. When Plasidas to Rome was come, and did a time soiourne : Then Adrian did him commaund, his Idols to adourne. For that the Romanes did possesse, so great a victorie : But Plasidas would not so doe, he playnely did deny. That they were Gods, and unto him, they nought at aU could giue : He said by Christ, in Christ it was, that he in world did liue. Then Adrian commaunded that, deuoured they should be : Of a Lion in Church, whereas his Goddes the facte might see. And so it was as he commaunde, perfourmed eke and done : The Lion he most ioyfully, vnto their feete doth come. 46 The nolle History of Plasidas. And there doth lie much like a dogge, cii/m ccmde that doth play : And from their feete no man ywis, can get the beast away; But there he lies and mery makes, he doth no hhurt at all : Then Adrian doth strayght commaunde, his men them forth to call. And doth commaund that they be put, in Oxe of brasse to die : But nought they care, in Jesus Christ they had their trust wholly. The Oxe with flame is thorow bote, and they are put therein : And ioyfully in Christ they all, to sing do then beginne. Thus ended they their mortall race, their file was at an ende : That we may so indure good Lorde, to vs thy mercy sonde. FINIS. John Partridge. oftt;eta9ozt^p7laDr ^mnn^ mtsl^tp^armm, tbe great Curfce* *^ yjL attDeftgtteoftipe footc. 1566* E.y. t VLfft i)(stotie of iPantrauola. Sometime in Turky there, A famouse lande by name, Did dwell a kig whose daughters fare Deserued immortal fame : So bewtifull she was. So fette of lymme and ioynte. That sure a worlde it was to see, Her shape from point to point. So comly to be knitte, For witte she bare the bell, Her comly shape all other wightes Eor bewtie did excell : Her grace is such to see That heauen it was to heare And see, what suters was to get This worthy royall peare : As thicke as starres in skies So thicke the people be. In euery place the comly corps Of this Princes to see. The lusty gentell knightes. On foaming steades on hie. Her loue to wynne, their manly force Full often there doe trie. 48 The Msforie of And demyng in their myndes That he that once should haue The victory, auaunce more nede not Of her, her loue to craue. Therfore they haue decreede A tournament to crie, In which they thinke with dynte of sworde Their hames for to trie. Then to the king they go With one assent, and saie : We thee desier most royall Lorde, To graunt without delaye. A tournament to be, Our forces for to trie. Your presence likewyse there we craue. The playe to bewtifie. This is all our request. This is that we doe craue : Thus shall you doe a gratefull thing, If our requestes we haue. The king foorthwith doth graunte. To their request in deede, And biddeth them prepare them selues, To trie them selues with speede. And thus their leaue they take. And homeward take their waye : And euery oure they thinke a yeere, Before that come the daye. The dale then being come. In gHstring armour bright : One might beholde on coursers tale, PuU many a manly knight. Pandauola. 49 With speare and lannce in hande, I clad in plate of Steele, Naught wanting there, that might become A manly knight so wele. But first of aU it doth Behoue for to descriue. The maner of the place, wherein These lusty knightes should striue. Without the Palaise great Of Sylewma the king. Appointed was the field, which was Made compasse like a rynge ; In ether ende whereof Was mightie pillers sette, To which the parties ouercome. By forse of armes were fette. And there the lawe was so. That then they must ahide, UntiU such time that other were Toke of the other side. And at one ende there was, Appointed for to stande, Pandauola for whom this broile, They first had tooke in hande. And all the companie Of Ladies of great prise, Stoode there beside, within a place That was made there likewyse. At thother end the king, Did sitte with all his traine : And in the middes were Judges sette. Indifferent for them twayne. 50 The historie of Thus passed was the night, And dale began tappeare : And trompettes blew in euery place, The sound eche wight might heare. Then first in field there came, The king and tooke his place : And afterward Pandauola, Came with her fathers grace. And tooke her seate where as She, pointed was and then The harrauldes foorth are sent to shew Unto these lusty men How that the king was set, And wayted them to see, Wherefore the trompettes are comraaunde Poorthwith I bloun should be, The Martiall seas that none Doe come within the rayle : Then comes the knightes and to their king. Their bonettes they doe vayle. But one among the rest. That Alfine had to name. Is chalenger and must beginne To showe this royall game. A comly knight he was, Pandauolas one deare : And she to him did speake these woordes, Euen with a mery cheare. My Lord fquod she) you see, That naught can here auayle. But stripes with courage bold and stout, Your foes for to assaile. Pandauola. 51 And for your party I Am sure good knightes to haue : And nought there wantes but courage bolde, From daimger you to saue. And courage stoute I knowe, Doth you possesse and holde, Wherby your foes neuer so stoute, May easy be controulde : Go wende in haste therfore. Prepare your selfe to fight : And for to honor you the more, We will giue you the sight. To whom he aunswered, If that I so might craue : Your gloue or sleue, then might I thinke, The victorie to haue. Oh Lady deare therfore, Graunt this my small desier : And then I thinke for my desert, I am repaide my hier. This saide, her gloue she drawes From of her fingers small, And giues to him and eke a ringe. She giueth there withall. Who nowe doth ioye but he, Who els desires to fight But he, then straight the defendant, Is come redy in sight. Who Flaccus had to name. And after him doth ryde, The brother of this Alfine looe, A man of litle pride. h2 52 The historie of When as before tlie kyng They came, they license craue, That they the field as doth behoue, May full possesse and haue. To trie their lusty steedes, Their hartes and harnes strong, And eke to trie which of them all Should lay other along. The king hath graunted them, The trompettes straight doth blowe. With speare in reste these manly knightes Thone at thother goe. He that in fielde then was, Must learne his head to saue. Or els may chaunce appointed be. To lie fuU long in graue. Their speares that well were whette, On harnise chrasshing crie, And other some how swoordes will holde Upon their helmettes trie. But Elaccus Alflne markes. And straight at him doth ronne. But Alfine falling on his men. This worthy knight doth shonne. But he with cruell hate Aloude in fielde doth crie : Oh Alfine, Alfine, where art thou That pointed hast to trie ? With me by force of armes The gloue and ringe to haue, Come forth I sale, both the and thine, Against me se thou saue. Pandauola. 53 When Alfine harde him crie After this kynde of wise, His harte for Ire began to quake, His bloud began to rise. And setting sporres to horse, He brake his foes araye. And smyteth Elaccus in the shelde, That on the grounde he laye. Then Alfine striues to drawe This Flaccus lacking breth Unto the piller there beside. But Brennus rescueth This Placcus, and rpon His brother Alfine falles. With mortaU dynte of sworde, Aloude to him he calles. ,0 brother tourne thee nowe, I doe thee here defie. And if thou be a gentill knight, Seeme not for to denie. To meete me here in fielde, Sithe that fortune hath so Appointed vs, then both at once, Togeather they doe go : And rushing here and there, How for to sytte they trie : And thone at thother ranne so sore, Their speares in peeces flie. But by this time Maccus, His seKe was come vnto. And armed now his foes in field. Doth mortaly pursue. 54 The Mstorie of But meting once againe, "With Alflne in the field, Of courage and of ire he doth Unto the soldiers yield, Such bloes that none before. His swoorde durst once to stand, And hauing made a way by force, lie ioyneth hand to hand, With Alfine £^nd they both, At once to ground are caste : And then they both agreed are, Retrete to blowe at laste. The rest for to deferre, TJntill the sunne began For to descende possessing earst. His place Meredian. The king vnto the court Anone doth take his waye, Pointing an our or two I wis Within his place to staye. And then for to retourne, The ende hereof to see. Agreed they are and in the court To dinner gone they bee. But lo Pandauola, Hath caught a mortall blowe, Euen with a shafte that was shot foorth Prom out dame Cupides bowe. Her harte was set on fire, And she began to burne. The rosis in her ruddey cheekes, Began awaye to turne. Pandauola. 55 Her senses doe denie, Their offices to doe : Her breath doth fayle and men doe looke, But death for to insue. She eates no meate at all, But downe on bed is laide : But at the last her eies out brast With teares, and thus she saide. Oh Gods that rule the skies, In whome my trust doth He, And thou O God whiche chiefest arte Aboue the golden skie. And thou oh Lady deare, Oh Venus by thy name, Vouchsaue my wofuU crie to heare. Thy captiue doe not blame : Though that alwayes I sought. Thy f orse for to withstande : Yet nowe I feele the mighty stroke Of Oupide thy sonnes hande. Take pitie now therefore Sithe that a captiue I : Can not preuaile, yet giue me salfe To helpe my misery. And take me to thy grace, Sythe that my selfe I yelde. And graunte to smyte him with that shafte Thou hittes me in the fielde. Oh Cupide I the praie, This whyle the knightes are gone Them selues to dine and rest their corps. But Alfines layd vpon 56 The historie of His bedde, and doth complaine. Of heuy woes and smart, Which for Pandauola his dere. Doth vexe him at the harte. The king hath heard hou that His daughter doth not well. And sendeth for Phisitians In conning that excell. To knowe the cause of grief e, That doth her so molest, And eke of them to knowe what kinde Of medicines are beste. Her health againe to gette, The messengers are gone, Whome the Phisitions aunswere. That they will wayte vpon His prudent grace, as fast As possible they may : And with the messengers they all To court doe take their way. The game is then deferde Untill an other tide : And postes for Phisitians yet. About the countrey ryde. In meane space she with paine Is vext, and greuous smart : And cruell cares with great anoye, Tormente her gentill harte. At last the Phisitions, Are come her grace to see : But oh alas there is none can tell, To cure her maladie. Pandauola. 57 The king doth weepe and wayle, His daughter thus to see : At last of them he doth inquire, If any helpe there be ? To whom they aunswere made, AVith heuy pending cheare : That naught but death in her at all To their sight did appeare, Por liuely bloud was gone, Her poulses did not beate Her limmes waxt starke for want of bloud. And of her liuely heate. Her sensis all are dull. And death approched nye, But this they said vnto the kyng. Their cunning they would trye : Her health againe to get, Hir Ladies sitte her by. And doth beholde how now and then, She tournes her heuy eye : As though that Atropos Should ende her vitall race : And eke that nature quite and cleane. Her worke should so deface. The place with wayhnges great. Is filde vnto the ende, The Phisitions the company Out of the chamber sende. Then they their medicines, Unto this lady giue : The whiche opprest with cares beginnes Againe for to reKue. 58 The Mstorie of The king is tMs meane while Within his chamber set, To whom a messenger is come, And thus the king doth greete. The Gods thee sane O king, Thy seruaunt still doth praye, Alfine thy knight desireth thee, To graunt without delaye, A phisition with speede His maladie to cure : Or els oh king that he shall die, Thereof thou maiest be sure. To whome the king thus spake. What greater griefe can be. Unto a king then for to lose, So good a knight as he. Ah fortune that doest beare, A double face in hood Ne knowest thy frende ne f o, but doest Unto them equall good. And him thou settest on hie, Euen him thou laiest alowe : As to thy friend suohe frendlines, Thou showest vnto thy foe. With weping teares he saide. And then he foorth doth call His Phisitions, and doth commaunde That they go with him all. Unto Alfine his knight. With that Pandauola Began to speake to one that stoode Her by, and thus did saye. Pandauola. 59 And is it true I heare ? Is Alfine sicke also ? She called then a Phisition, And bad him straight to goe To him in all the haste, And tell him this that she Is ready nowe for to departe, But lackes his companie. To whome she might as mate. With him take paine in waye : The Phisition did thinke that she These woordes of feare did saye. And Kke a wise man then. He aunswered by and by. Be you content ho lady deare, Thinke not that he will die But if you will commauude, I will your will obay, And willingly will doe the thing That it shall please you saye. And if that death should carpe My vitall thread atwaine. Your secretes I wiU keepe still close Though that I should be slaine. With that she drew her breath. But fainting nowe and then, Ah God (quod she) Alfyne Alfyne, The truste of all men : With that as men perceiue By little streames that ronne The place, and cause that first their course Of water hath begonne : i2 60 The historie of Or as one might perceaue Where eaco doth resounde, That in that place though touching skie It is their hollowe grounde. So he when as he harde Her clamor and her crie, Ejiewe well in ende that such streames would Their fountaine head discrie. And as the man that hath By trauell and by payne Pounde out, where as of golde there is Some riche and costly vaine : Doth digge and delue the more, The ende therof to finde : So he a conning workeman doth Reuolue within his mynde Whereof their wordes should ryse. He then perceiueth plaine The cause of grief and seketh meanes Her woes for to restraine. And then beginning newe His tale to her he said. Oh Lady, of my woordes be not One whitte at aU dismaid. Por I in ende I hope Will fynde you for to ease, So that my seruice may not once Your gracious minde displease. My frend (quod she againe) No whit shall me displease. What that it be, saye what you will So it be for any ease, Pandauola. 61 And I the truth will tell, But see you trusty be Of all the cause and where I am Thus vexte with malady. To whom he aunswered. The Gods by whome eche thing. Was made, quighte me.confounde. And vnto ruine bring, Euen at that instaunt, when Your secret I bewray : And bring my soule where furis fell Shall it moleste I pray. That I may with him gape That sekes the floudeds to drinke. And for my plague from yarning lips The same againe may shrynke. Or els that carping gripe. That eates the groing harte Of Titius, in sonder may My faithles harte departe. And if in hell there be One that surmountes the reste For breache faith, then let it all Be iudged for my breste. As due rewarde and eke, If naught in hell there be. Sufficient, then mighty Joue Against me thus decree, That I with those may haue My towme, whome Joue most hie. Did fling to ground by thonder boltes That flew from forth the skie. 62 The Mstorie of And now their toumes possesse Where as their corps doth boyle With fier and brymstone scalding hote, Their corpes for to tourmoyle. This saide he thus began, No Phisition (quoth he) Can minister vnto your health, Unlesse that perfeitly The cause of grief e he knowes. His labour is in vaine. And lost is all his study, for To ease you of your payne. Therfore of you I craue The principall to knowe Of all your griefe, and then I wUl Some phisick therfore showe. Your vryne doth declare That you in deede are ill, A cause the same doth showe also. But not contentes my will. Eor further cause I must Of you here vnderstande. And then I may giue medicines To you, ende out of hande. As when the gentUl Buck Hath take a mortall blowe. Doth runne about to seke some ease, So she about doth goe. With sugered woordes to tell Howe she at harte was prest With greuous panges, and afterwardes In order all rehearst. Pandauola. 63 What maladie she felt Within her self e, but she Did not declare what was the cause, Of her great maladie. At last she cries Alf yne. And there her voyce doth staye. The Phisition perceiued the cause, And thus began to sale : Oh Lady mine take cheare. The cause of all I finde To be the loue of Alf yne, which You so doe beare in mynde, Therfore take you no thought. For I will woorke the waye That shall you ease, therfore your self In quiet state doe stale. I will to Alfyne go, Your minde to him to breake, And if your graces will be so I beseeche you to speake. With that she toumes and teste As though she straight will die. And thus at last to him she spake With heuy dolefull eye. O syr (quoth she) you knowe The cause of aU my care, For Alfyne low it is, that I This greuous sicknes bare. And sithe you nowe doe knowe What is the cause of wo. As for my frende I doe you take. My secretes doe not showe. 64 The historie of Content your selue a wliyle Quoth he, and let me worke, To Alfyn I will straight wayse wend To ease him of his hurte : And afterward I will Againe come vnto you. And as for me, oh Lady deare, As friend doe thinke me true, Well then (quod she) syth that You must be gyde, of gayne Take here this gold the which I giue For part reward of paine. And sithe to him you go, To him this ringe doe giue, And tell him that without his loue, I desire not to Hue, And if to doe him good, My death could ought auaile. To haue the same without delay. Sure, sure, I would not faile. This saide, the Phisition To Alfyne straight doth goe. Who whe he came straight to the kinge This ioyfuU newes doth showe. That he did hope in. time His daughter well to see, Wherof the king exceading ioyse To Alfyne gone to be. And telles the king that he His disease well doth see, And win in time without all doughte Einde out a remedy Pandauola. 65 Eor him, and tlien he doth Them all with harte desire For to depart, the king and all Doth that he doth require. When all was foorth of dores, He thus his tale began : Right worthy Syr, I doe perceiue That you are a sick man, And sore torment with paine. But be you of good cheare, Por from a frende of yours I haue A message good to heare. The worthy knight then said, Good syer welcome to me, And for her sake that hath you sent E/ight welcome syr ye be. With that the Phisition Began on this same sorte, The Gods confounde me, if my tonge Shall forder false reporte. Good syr (quoth he) cache thing Obedient needes must be, Unto the will of him that made Those thinges, as thinges to see. And as the hounde which is His maisters great delight. Unto the hare by nature made Doth daily worke despight. Or as the sylley doue No greater ioye can flnde When as she in loue is macht With one of seKe same kinde. K 66 The Mstorie of So mortall man though he Be kinge and lorde of all, Yet in this point w' him eache beast Is to their Lorde equaU, And thus beside we see As Oupide shaft doth fall, So oftentimes the feruent loue Departeth there withall. And for because that loue Is cause of your vnreste, Therfore I thinke the principall To shewe it were the best. Oh sier said Alfyne then, My honor doth not craue That though my loue so feruent be. That I the same should haue. And if so be that I In byrth her grace might mate. Yet doe I thinke that worthy I Were not for such a state As she, but would be glad If I were king of kinges, Euen for her sake, to leaue my state. And eke aU royal thinges. And if I might haue hope To craue I could not sease. If I were sure my sute to gaine, No happier is the peace That with a tound is made When warres indured hath Eul long the were with me, I swere Of knighthod by the faithe. Pandauola. 67 But out alas her witte And iudgement sage is so, That of my sute when I beginne To faile, in ende I know. Therfore maister Doctor, I you desire and praie, In any case of her no more Unto me for to saye. But let me in destres Now end my dolefull dayes And let me die remedUes Sithe I haue bene alwayes. To whome the Doctor spake And bad him quiet be, Por so he saide that somewhat might Ease him of maladie. And if he would a whyle His talke giue eare vnto. He might haue ease, and Alfyne he. Is willing so to do. With that he thus began. And saide, I marueU much That for to shew such one as you For feare so sore should grutche. To doe the thing wherby To you comes all the gaine. And it were so, why should you shrinke To take so small a paine, Sithe labour can not lose, Parhappes she does to trie Your faithfulnesse, and other whyles, Perhappes she doth denie k2 68 The historie of To graunt you that you craue, Because she would that ye Should not suppose in your conceit Her person light to be, Therfore this would I wyshe, That you should courage take. And in the walles with manly hart Should seeke a breache to make Por once the citie which Can scarse there defence make, Doth giue vnto the conquerer A hope it for to take. And where they willing are, No treate ought to be : The Sea to ebbe and flowe so oft Is not constrainde we see, Yet doth it so therfore Of courage take some part, And do assaie yet once againe To breake her flinty hart, Eor as the litle droppes That oft fall from on hie, The hardest stone with falling on, Both thorowe weare and trie, So she with praiers fayre. May be obtainde I knowe, Therfore good syr, and if you please my counsell do folowe. To whom Alfyne answerd, Good syr as you do saye, I doe intende the chaunce to proue Without any delaye. Pandauola, 69 And for your great good will, I giue you thankes certaine, And if it lie in me one daye I will rewarde your paine. And sitting tlien vpright Within his bed, he saide, That for to prosecute his mynde. He would not be afraide. And geuing thankes as then The Phisicion vnto. He purposeth as he hath saide. Forth with end so to doe. The Phisition perceiued That then he might haue time To shewe his mynde, and thus he said, H not committing- crime, I might my message showe. So bould then I would be To speake in few, to whome y* knight Did aunswere courtously Saie on, oh Doctour myld "With willing harte certaine We wUl you heare, if to declare That you will take the paine > Then with a mery cheare, • On this wyse he did say ; I haue ( quoth he) before I came Haue ben that part of daie. With f aire Pandauola The daughter of the king. Which vnto me before I came Hether, gaue me this ring 70 The historie of With this in message to Declare vnto your grace, That you would be of a good cheare, She prayes in any case : And as a token of Her faith she this hath sent, To you protesting that she hath As yet no other ment, Ne neuer tendes to doe "While life she doth possesse, And so that you will like protest She verely doth gesse. As when a man hath lost Some Juell riche of pryse, With heuy hart and painfull mind He ginneth for to ryse, And so the Juell great He seketh round about. And neuer seaseth till that he The Juell hath founde out. And when that he hath founde The same, vp to the skeyse He liftes his handes, the Joyse whereof Makes streames runne downe his eyes, So plaieth Alflne nowe. With teares he blotes his face. And stretching out his heuy armes, The Doctor doth imbrace. And kissing twyse the ringe. Upon her name doth call, And eke beholde he feles him selfe Reliued therewithall. Pandauola. 71 And willing with his harte The equall will to be Equaly macht, sithe her goodwill To his will so did gree. And douting nothing nowe, He thinkes him well at ease, Minding the Doctor for his paynes With golde and fee to please. Then doth the Doctor sale, That he would also wende Unto Pandauola, and askes If ought that he would sende As token vnto her, To whiche he doth consent. And vnto her a chaine with ring Withall his hart hath sent. The Doctor goes his waes, Well rewarded for paine : And wished that he were daily So set a woorke againe, Who nowe doth Alfyne loue, But Pandauola bright. Who is to him coequall mate Who ioyeth nowe in light. What payne doth Alfyne feele, Ne all is fled away, He of his griefe is reliued. To ryse he doth assaie : And taking courage bolde, To walke he doth assaie : And feling not him selfe at ease, Againe on bed he laye 72 The historie of With ioyf nil cheare I wis He sate as any wight, He taketh then his pen in hande, And thus began to wrighte. And seking for to feede His flinging fancies so, Purposith in some prety songe His Ladies praise to showe. And thus he doth beginne, Desiring helpe and ayde Of Musis nyne, and thus at last With pleasaunt voyce he sales. The song made by the Translator. You Musies nyne that sisters be, Helpe now my dolefuU voyce to singe, The prayse of her whose comly gle Surmounteth nowe eche vitall thing, The same whiche so Appelles sought. At once in her is trimly wrought. Appelles O thou happy man, Whose dales to short were for to see The floure that of dame nature came, So faire, so trimme, and eke so free. Whose shape doth passe all in the time. Much more then snow doth passe the slime. If thou hadst lined and sene the wight Which now doth Hue in Turky lande, Pandauola. 73 As one deuoyde of life and sight, Before her grace thou wouldest stande, Such wodring would haue toke the there Her worthy shape in minde to beare. Pigmalion for aU his arte. So faire a peece once could not graue, Nor if they both should take a part, By conning so their fames to saue Yet should they eare and not come nere My Ladies grace that royall peare. To whome I wishe eternall ioye. With healthfull state and happy dayes, And eke to passe without anoye, These euill times and perilous seas. And I my selfe what euer betide, With her in shippe on them may ryde. Finis. This done he layes him downe Some rest on bed to take. And afterward within an ho are. He ginneth for to wake. The Phisition is come Pandauola to see. But lo, the king and all his Lordes Within her chamber be. To whome the Doctor ginnes To drawe him selfe vnto, And coming in, Pandauola He asketh ho we she doe. L 74 The Mstorie of To whome she aunsweres then, The better him to see : And of the same she asked then Wheare he so long hath bee. He aunswered straightwaye. He was for to prouide For certain things that nedes he must Eor her haue in that tide, But then she ginnes to saye The weather bote to bee, The Phisition that her intent Did well pereeiue and see. And did the Lordes desire, A while them selues to keepe Abroade in chamber there beside. To see if she could slepe. The king then doth departe And all the Lordes are gone According to their duties, The king to wayte vpon. When all was foorth of doores, The Phisition doth tell The order of his being there. And howe eche thing befell. And vnto her doth giue The tokens that were sent By him to her, and afterwards He showes the whole intent Of Alfynes sicknes then. She him desires againe. That early on the morowe he To come will take the payne. Pandauola. 75 To her, and then he shall Knowe more of her intent. To whose requeste, the Phisition Doth thorowly consent. And then his leaue doth take Till time of her request : And she her self e doth laie her down, And there doth take her rest. The sunne from height of heauen Into the sea doth fall. And runing through the flashing flods Ascendeth there withall: And heing weary then Of his iourney God wote. He putteth out the monstrous hores Prom out the chariot. And comming now where as Aurora hell her see, To make the night somewhat longer, They both agreed be : At length Aurora doth The bed of Titan flye, And ginnes to shewe her cristall face Throughout the syluer skie. And Phebus he him selfe His goulden head doth showe : Lifting him selfe from out of the wanes Our orisont belowe. And with his f yrie chaire Is flowne into the skie An houre long, the Phisition Perceiueth by and by, l2 76 The historie of That time it is to go, And foortli straightwaies he went Unto Pandauola, and she Unto his house hath sent. But at the last he comes And vnto her doth go. Desiring that he may foorthwith Her graces intent knowe. To whome she straight did saye, That he forthwith must beare A letter vnto Alfyne, whiche You after aU shall heare. T[ ffi:i)e ILrttct of ^antiauola to \^n louev aifgtie. As to the heuy wight Tormented sore with paine. All thinges are ioyfuU that doth seeke llis tormentes to restraine. So it is vnto me Alfyne, this to heare, That life with health y" dost possesse That art to me so deare. Which all the gods I praye Por euer to maiatayne. And good successe in all assaies, 1 wishe to the certaine The cause why that to you My letters I indighte Is this, because you may suer thinke My promyse to be right. Pandauola. 77 And that the Doctor hath Unto your goodnes tolde, To he the thing which I doe meane Therof you may be bolde. And for your sicknes lo I rew, this thing is plaine, But yet suppose that much more ill Then you, I was againe. As well my father could Declare, and Doctor to, Who as you know for me in deede Hath had somewhat to doe. And sithe the Gods doe so Graunt our requestes to be : This is the cause that you foorthwith Come hether me to see, And thereof myne intent, The ende shall you perceiue : And thus because of leasure I You to your selue do leue. Fare weU therfore my knight. Good health the Gods the sende : And thus from the kings manor place My minde and wryght I ende : Fare well oh Juell deare. Fare well my owne delight : Fare well also of knighthoode thou The chiefe and truest knight. This letter she doth geue The Phisition vnto, 78 The historie of And bad him that in all the haste He should his labour doe The same in haste to beare, Alfyne to vnderstande : And afterwardes to bring to her An aunswere out of hande. The Phisition is gone Alfyne her knight vnto, According to her graces "wyll, The message for to do. The meane spase she from out Her wery bed doth ryse, And deckes her selfe in trimme aray After her wonted gyse. And walking up and downe Within her chamber, she Beginneth in her minde to roull Of him the great bewty, And doth his state compare With Paris comly gle : And yet within her selfe she sales. Much Mrer loe is he Then Narsissus so faire, Or mystus lo is he : And by and by, she thinkes fairer He is if there may be, Fairer then Narsissus Or Mystus that haue bene The fairest and the comliest wightes, That euer earst were scene. At last her father comes To see howe that she doe. Pandauola. 79 With many a Lorde and lusty knight That come her grace vnto. Her father, he doth aske, If she her helth possesse : To whome she aunsweres by and by, For all his great richesse. She would not feell suche paine, As she not past eight daies Did feele ago, but to the Gods She gaue immortaU prayse. Her father then doth ioye. And doth declare how that The noble knight Alfyne, is nowe E-ecouered of late Of his disease, and doth Sit up, and walkes about, And saith that Alfyne would lyue, Therof he had no doubte. Wherto she saies Amen, Though yet were there vnknowne The fame then of her health abroade. About the cities blowne. As sone as once the health Of her the people knowe. On aulters of the Goddes they all Their offringes bestowe. And bond fyers they doe make Eor ioye of this good chance : In euery streate they mery make, They singe, they leape, and daunce. And as the wight that is Prom death deliuered late, 80 The historie of So ioyeth she and father eke, Oh thryse and happy fate. Tliey all this dale therfore For holy doe suppose, And then their myndes to eleuate The hearmony they chose. The Phisition approched is Syr Alfynes house vnto, And vnto him his message then He ginneth for to doe. And then declares that she His comming would abide Within the court of Sylluma : Then takes he him aside, And vnto him doth giue The letter that he bare, Desyring lo an aunswere straight, Eor he to court would fare. To whome Alfyne doth tell, That he straightway would frame An aunswere and he should forthwith To her go beare the same. Then to his closet he Doth go, and penne doth take. And on this wyse the aunswere he Therof to her doth make. Pandauola. 81 IT E¥ aunstoete to ti)e letter of ^atrUauoIa. The Gods whom we accompt As iust and blest to be, Preserue thy life oh Lady deare The chiefest ioye to me, As to a captiue naught. Is ioye but Hbertie. Euen so likewyse, there nothing is More ioyfuU vnto me, Then thus by your goodnes Although a captiue I, And as it were one rescued nowe, Once iudged for to die : And as for demyng lo. Unworthy I me fynde The least good gift of your good grace That you to me haue syn. I thinke those famous men That lined haue eare this. Could not deeme other, but that ye Are chiefest cause of blisse. Or els I deeme that they Would neuer vndertake Suche perilles, as full often they You to obtaine, doe make. Achilles champion stoute. What tyme in Troye he sawe Polyxena, he did desire To be the sonne in lawe M 82 The Mstorie of Of Pyramus, that king Of Troye of renowne, Syr Parys eke the worthiest knight, That M'as in Illy on towne. His brother Hector sane To Grace his passage tooke : His Aunt the faire Exiona, Within then' courtes to looke. But being taken with The fyry cleuing darte, Of Helena the Queene, whose syght Did strike him to the harte. That maugre all their heades, To shippe this dame he bare : And hoisyng vp his mery sailes, To Troye began to fare. So if that Cupide durste These champions stoute assayle, What boutyd them him to resiste, When naught they could preuayle. To striue against the streame, Is labour lost in yayne : The more he striues, the more increase His dolour and his payne. The noble Pyramus, Him selfe for Tysbe slew, Because he thought that he was cause Of breaking faith so trewe. Thus if these did as heare, Pull oft we haue heard saye : Then maruell not oh Lady dear, Why that as quighte awaye. Pandauola. 83 My senses all were fled. Sythe you doe passe them all. Then all the reste, it doth behoue That I should lower fall. And that you haue your health, I ioye therof to heare. The which I praie the Gods to holds Pull many dales and yeare. If life or death you should Commaunde, I would obey : Be life or death, or what thing els, If that it please you say. And whyle that Hf e this corps Should full inioye and haue : I am the knight that shall performe What thing your grace shall craue. And here I bynd me to Your grace, your man to be At all assaye without delay To doe that pleaseth ye. Thus here I take my leue. Desiring Gods to sende The wyshed ioyes that we desire, Our griefes to make an ende. This done, the letter he Unto the Doctor bringes, Desiring that the Doctor would Before all other thinges, Deliuer that his deede Unto her graces hande. M 2 84 The hisiorie of The Pliisition doth straight departe, He will no lenger stande With him to talke, but goes Awaye from him apace, And then within a whyle he is Ariued in the place Of Syluma the king, And forward straight doth goe Unto the faire Pandauola, His message for to showe. And coming in where as The Lordes a daunsing be. He makes a signe, the which thing lo, Perceiued soone had she : And from her place doth ryse, Taking him by the hande, Desiring him, that she might there His message vnderstande. The letter foorth he drawes And giues it her vnto, And saith that Alfyne is preste Her bidding for to doe. With that he goes awaye, And saieth then that he, At one time or an other, will Returne her grace to see. And now the pleasaunt dewe Of heauen beginnes to fall And cache man loe, his reste to take Perswadeth there withall. The syluer skye of hew The darkesome shades of night Pandauola. 85 Doth, couer cleane the sunne and daye Descended out of sight, And glistring starres do decke The pole of heajien so hie. And nature ginnes her rest to craue With heuy pensiue eye. Thus-then Pandauola Her rest to take doth go, And wisheth that Alfyne her knight Weare there so none might knowe. She roules, she tournes, she tosse, With dreaming often, to One while she thinketh on their loue An other while to doe. Some prety f eate so that They their desire may haue, An other whyle she counteth on Her honor for to saue. Thus on this wyse she spendes, And driues the night awaye, Untill such tyme as Phebus did His banner foorth displaye. With clearsome light aboue, Our Horisonte in east. And with his praunsing horse drewe foorth His chaire into the weste. Then Alfyne comes vnto The court of Sylewma, And enters into the chamber Of fayre Pandauola, Who when she sawe, then straight With stretched paulmes awid 86 The historie of She giues the Gods most harty thankes, That so for her prouide. And then about his necke Her gentill armes she caste, With kissing swete, a thousand foulde She welcomes him at last. And there he doth abide With her his Lady bright, His life, his health, his ioye, his trust, And eke his hartes delight. Unto the king they go. And he in chamber is. Who for to welcome Alfyne, doth With frendly hart him kisse : And eke Pandauola : Whose kisses were more swete Then fathers were, Alfyne her knight Againe with kisse doth grete. Then downe to meate they go, Eor dinner drewe full nie, ioyfuU So they consumde that ioyfuU dale With pleasaunt hermony. But Alfyne and the mayde, (The dinner being done) Unto their chamber richely decte, To talke are thether gone. Thus haue they past the daye, And Alfyne sees that night Is come, for to departe as then, He sheweth that it is right. But lo Pandauola, This parting ill doth take, Pandauola. 87 And doth desire him that he will As then his soiorne y make. But he desiring lo Paredon, doth her denie, (For those his wordes) and sayeth more, Her father he wUl trie, As concerning the thing That they haue greede upon, They take their leaue and Alfine he Unto his place is gone. The gliding starres perswades Eche thing vnto his reste And darkesome shades the pole of heauen Do compas to the west, And pleasaunt sleape doth creepe By stealth into their eies. In meane while the golden pole Of heauen about earth flies, And gilding starres doe fall, Then shone Aurora cleare, And Phebus bright with glistring beames. Unto vs he doth appeare. Then Alfyne doth arise. And to the king doth go. In purpose of the king the ende Of his intente to knowe, Who when he comes he gretes The king likewyse againe, Doth welcome him and geues him thankes, That he would take the paine As to come him to see. With that a knight full faire 88 The historie of Came to the king and said, that he Por this cause did repaire. To tell vnto his grace Some newes, wherby he might Some helpe forsee, for him and his, As due it was be tright. To whom the king commaund. That he without all shame Should tell his tale, and said that he Therfore should haue no blame. The knight then thus begonne, Oh king, the Christian knightes Inuade thy lande, and daily yet They worke vs more despights. The Spasyardes doe possesse Almost thy countx^ey rounde. And Hungarians doe like wise Thy people quight confounde, Helpe therefore nowe O king With spede we thee doe praye. Or els they quighte will ouerronne This land without delay e. Por now from this same place They be but iourneyes small. Helpe nowe oh king, sith we as nowe Por helpe to thee doe call. This saide, the king straght way Doth for his counsell call. The which doe come, and then they do Enter the counsell hall. When they were set, Alfyne Doth foorth his matter breake. Pandauola. 89 But lo, the king dotli Mm commaunde No woorde therof to speake. And thus he saide, syr knyght, You knowe the royall rase Of Pandauola, and she ought In suche a kinde of case Por to he matcht with one Whose birth is somewhat like : Therfore syr Alfyne wey this well, And yours is farre to seke. Therfore your selfe content, Eor I doe tell you plaine. She shall not yet be maried. Yet muse I more againe, Sithe that you being but A Duke of lynage poore, Should seme to craue in mariage So ryche and fayre a fiowre. When as syr Flaccus, who Is next me in this lande. Will not presume her for to craue : Therfore thus it shall stande, That when a time shall come Better we will prouide For her then so, therfore (quoth he) Set this your talke aside. And then he doth declare The fine of this intent. As concerning the warres in hand, And this was their iudgement : That Syluma him selfe, An army great should make, N 90 The historie of And shall descende in battell and Should Alfyne with him take. So thus they haue agreed, And there the counsell brake, And Alfyne he doth from the king His ioumey forthwith take Unto the chamber of The daughter of the king, And vnto her recounteth all Of euery kinde of thyng That hath bene saide or done, Within the chamber lo. She vnderstandeth euery white, AKyne then thence doth go With heuy cheare and then Pandauola doth wayle, And afterwards her maydes she calles With them for to counsaile Wherof one Palyne, Suche one as she may truste She calles to her, and so her mynde At last she hath discuste From point to point, and then For counsell she doth craue. To whome Palyne aunswered, ' This sorte (quoth she) I haue Oh noble Lady deare, Byne trusted nowe ear this About suche cures, wherfore I hope That nowe I shall not misse, But will you ease certaine, Of good chere therefore be, Pandauola. 91 And for a tyme let fortune woorke. The ende your grace shall see To be profitable, When he at warres hath bene. We can not tell but happely May chaunce some kinde of thing, Or iust deserte of his Upon our enemies tride. That may vnto this euiU chaunce Some better waye prouide. Therfore my counsell is, That he with willing mynde Shall doe the thing what that it be To him that is a synde. Therby full soone he may Obtaine your fathers grace To be his friende, more faithf uU then He nowe is in this case. And when some noble feate He shall haue complishd so, A daily friende the king will be To him, this well you knowe. Then may he seme to craue, And also iustly may You, to obtaine be the bolder Your father for to praye. Therfore my counseU is. That you with spede and might Shall biTn perswade for to be stoute According vnto right. Your fathers foes to quell And true subiect to be, N 2 92 The historie of Regarding not your fathers woordes. But his faith and dutie. The daye is come, and they Their armies great haue chose, And Alfyne with his armie, he Unto the Palayse goes Of Syluma the king, And monsters him before With colour pale and angry harte, Much like vnto a Bore. He castes his holowe eyes Now here, now there about. With frothing lips his dedly thoughtes With colour black flye out. The king the monster sees, Eor Alfyne he doth sende. And doth comaunde that he forthwith Unto the fielde do wende. The Christians they prepare Defence with spede to make. And Alfyne he beginnes forthwith Thether his waye to take. The armie of the king Is ready in this tide, The which to "Flaccus he committes Unto the fielde to guyde. But yet before they go, Alfyne his leaue doth take Of Pandauola bright and shene. His loue, his deare, his mate, To whome she on this sorte Began her tale to tell, Pandauola. 93 (Quoth she) O Alfyne this my deare, You know full sure and well, That when by prowes great Some thing you shall achiefe, Then bouldly may you aske i wys Me for to be your wife. Therfore my counsell is AU rancor layde asyde. That you my fathers heastes to doe With spede shaU runne and ryde. Neither that you should take Suche griefe, of that he saide, Be of good chere, fortune hath now Her worste at first displayde. Then rounde about his necke Her gentell armes she caste With teares she brwes her getU chekes And takes her leue at last. Now Alfyne and the king Unto the army goes. The kiug the conduct of the warre Nowe vnto Alfyne shoes. And him exhortes to striue Victorie to obtaiue, And then he sayes in end he shall Him. well rewarde for paine This wordes to AMyne gaue Some hope his praye to wynne, For ioye whereof his heauy harte Eeioyseth now within. The Sunne hath entryd now The waues that shine so bright 94 The historie of And Luna spreades her beames abroade. Now procbetb on tbe night. The king and Alfyne they Unto the campe are come, Before the wanes hane couered The golden shining Sunne. The Souldiers busy be Their campe to fortifie, Some go to reste, the glistring starres Fulfilling all the skie. The night is gone and all, The armie plaine Apeares : Then all the Christians foorthwith Their standardes tall vpreares. The Turke is nothing slowe The Christians to mete. With chrayshing swoordes, the other they With lusty bloes do grete Upon the name of Christe PuU loude the Christians call, The Turkes vnto their Mahomet With prayer ginnes to fall. The Turkes haue lost that daye. Of men a nomber great. But yet for that they do not seace, The Christians heads to beate. The gonstones through the ayre With dolef uU voyce doe crie, And fautall arrowes through the cloud Into eche armie flie. And here in fleshe it Hghtes, And geues a deadly woimde : Pandauola. 95 And in an other parte there is A thousand brought to grounde. The battaile standes in doubt. At last the Christians, they Haue wonne the fielde, the Turkes apase Prom thence doe flie awaye. Thus pleased God to graunte The yictorie as then By force so gotte, end for to fall Unto the Christen men. The night departed hath The armies for that tide. And misty cloudes eche others campe Asunder doth deuide. When that the daie was come, And Phebus shone full bright, The Turke beginnes to incourage His souldiers for to fight. And thus to them he sales "With cruell angry cheare : As by the wordes that he did speake, May very well appeare. Oh catiues quight undone. You traytours to your king : You enemies to Mahomet, What got you by flying. This other daie nowe paste Before your enemies hande. And for your cowardnes durst not Before their swordes to stande. Why should not they possesse That earst our fathers wanne. 96 The historie of And why, haue they not quite destroide Of vs hoth childe and man ? What could their force withstande When you began to flie. Thinke you that stones for our quarel With them would seme to trie. The honour of our name, Through you is gone and lost The fame of oure olde aunceters Is topsy touruy toste By Mahomete quoth he) Nothing doth make me muse. That then to spoyle our tentes also. The Christians did refuse, But that I thinke some god Our ruen did perpende And therfore would not suffer them Their fury to extende. With that he paused awhyle, Ilis souldiers full boold Did giue a showte as heaue and earth As then together would The whiche he marked weU, My thinkes (quoth he) I see The hartes and willes of men which woulde Not so accompted be. But that they would reuenge Their shame committed so They crie, desiring of the king That they to flelde may go. And then he should perceiue Their hartes and willes the more, Pandauola, 97 How they would reuenge the iniurie Done so the dale before. Then saide the king, sithe that Amendes you tende to make, I am content forthwith the fielde Against our foes to take. Then to the fielde he goes With all his Turkishe trayne : The Christians forthwith also Descende vnto the playne, The battaUe then heginnes Full fiers on ether side. The Christians striue the bodies of The Turkes for to deuide. But Alfyne he doth so With sworde the Christians checke. That some he makes lower to be By bead and eke the necke. Then wben the Christian kynges On that sorte so beholde. Euen with a winge of horsemen they Syr Alfyne doe infolde. There they him prisoner take And led him to their tent. The Turkes y° while to win the felde Or els to die are bent. Thus standes it all the daye The Christians are full faine Por to retire they hauing so Almost their armie slaine. Then Syleuma the king Unto their tentes doth go, 98 The Mstorie of And by and by, a messenger Comes and to him doth showe, Howe that the noble Duke Syr Alfyne him doth praye, In all tbe haste that eare he came, His raunsome he will paye, Aiid also this beside, The Christians require To haue a peace confirmde of him, Por the space of three yeare. When nues did come to him That Alfyne did abide With the Christians as prysoner, He calles his Lordes asyde. And asked them what they Would counsell him to doe : To whom syr Placcus answered That sithe it came so to Passe, as he looked for. He thought it best, that he Should as a prisoner with those Of Cliristendome still be. For he that would your grace To them haue deliuere, In my iudgement he ought not now So to be raunsomed. But for the peace he saide, He thought it good to be Concluded vpon for so small time. As farre as he could see. And lastly ye shall fynde Eull well (quoth he) I knowe, Pandauola. 99 That he for a litle or naught Againe shall be let go. That I haue saide (quoth he) I "will proue it to ende, Therfore (quoth he) oh king you may If please you answere sende Unto the Christians, that Sithe that they peace doe oraue, You are content that for three yeares, A peace that they shall haue. The counsell aU doe like This IFlaccus counsell so That thereupon they doe agree Before the truthe they knowe. The messenger they call His message to receiue : Who hath the peace graunted to him, And so they take their leaue. But as for Alfyne, he Should not his raunsome haue. And with this floute he bad that they That iuell riche should saue. The messenger is gone The Christen kinges vnto : When he was come, he thus at last His message gan to doe. The kinges and Lordes once set. His tale he thus began : (Quoth he) I haue most royall Lordes As farre forth as I can Uequested of the king A peace for three yeares space, o2 100 The historie of The whiclie he hath graunted to vs, But yet thus saith his grace, That as for Alfyne he Sail still your prisoner be. And this eondicion that You all his lande must leaue Within eight monethes vpon this same Your peace ye must receiue : This message being done, They straight them sport and playe With ioye and myrth, and some of them To Alfyne take their waye. Who mourning ginnes to wayle. And thus at last he saide. And hath my Lege denied me My raunsome to be payde, I some time was a Prince, But now a captiue vile, A slaue, a drudge, a beaste, no man, But drouen to exile. Oh would ( quoth he) to God My Lady fayre and bright, Did knowe my case how my true hart Hath brought me this despight. Oh Sylewma (quoth he) Haue I so trusty bene To thee and thine, and yet by me Thou settest not a pinne. These Christian knightes I know, Would haue sone raunsomed me If theirs I were and had bene tooke Of thee mine enemy. Pandauola. 101 Muche gentlier be these knightes Unto me, I doe fynde, Then thou oh Tyraunt fierse and fell Unto me in this kinde, Wherfore I praie the Goddes Some good lucke then to sende. That once they may of thee and me, Both see some euill ende : Fare well my Lady deare Pandauola the fayre, That art to Sylewma the king, His daughter and his ayre : l?are well I saye, for now Thou shalt some other haue. And Placcus now myne enemy, May boldly seeme to craue Thee of thy father now, I can not him withholde, Eor lo, the king doth not esteme Me worth a strawe of golde. Oh knightes, alfyne beholde For Ladies bright and shene That wonted was with you to iuste With speres both sharpe and kend Lo, now in chaines he lies Fast bounde, both foote and hande : Oh Pandauola that for thee With Flaccus oft did stande. But thus why doe I wayle, Come death and ende my dayes, Sythe that vyle wretohe I can not be Helieued, by. no wayse. 102 The historie of But yet would God my harte She might inioye and haue Before my corps intumyld were Or put into the graue. This saide, he wepes and wayles, And so his talke did ende, The whiche the Christian kinges haue heard And for him straight did sende. The king of Spaine doth rewe. The king of Hungary Doth also wepe to heare how he Lamentes his destenie. At last Alfyne is come Before them, and they all Of him inquier what he would doe, If so it might befall, That if so be at libertie As then that he should wende, Wherto he aunswered, that this As then he did intende That is, he neuer would Take sworde in hand to fight Against the Christians, but that he "With all his power and might Would them defende he saide. Wheron they doe agree, That without any raunsome he Eorthwith shall losid be To go where that he please. Or els there to abide. They gaue him eke a lusty steade To Uardam for to ryde. Pandaiiola. 103 Wliere after foure monethes space Unto the court he came Of Syleuma which then was held AVithin the tow:ne Uardam, But when he would baue prochte Syleumase court vnto, He was forbode by the porter So on that sorte to doe. Wherfore he doth departe Unto his mansion place, To whome a messenger doth come From old Syleumas grace. With this message in hande, That he his house should holde Untill he knewe farther, and not Once for to be so bolde As once abrode to go From that his house certaine. The messenger doth then departe Unto the king againe. And Alfyne he this while As the rewarde of payne. Unto the Christian Kinges hath sent Twelue cartes lodid with graiue, Which thing when Flaccus knew, He forward straight doth goe To Syluma the king, and he Therof his grace doth showe. Then Syleuma doth sende His messenger to areste Syr Alfyne, of such treason as Before it is exprest. 104 The historie of The messenger hatli done He was commaunded to do, The ofl&cers syr Alfyne bringes King Syleuma vnto. Who when he comes, then straight The king to iudgement goes. And Flaccus he doth enter in And the accusement showes, Whiche Alfyne doth denie : But Elaccus doth desire According to the lawe of armes. To trie it with his speare. Wherto the king doth graunt. The our of fight is set : And now the Lordes and Ladies do About their places get, The houre being come. The king with all his trayne, Are come and take their place In middest vpon the playne. Then Maccus commeth in. The king once being set, And then the Harrauldes are comaude Alfyne to fielde to fette : Pandauola she sittes Hard by her fathers side. The Harauldes are come, and Alfyne Into the fielde doth ryde To Syluma the king : riaccus doth come also, And there the accusation Againe Flaccus doth showe, Pandauola. 105 For proufe wherof he is Contented for to trie The combate, but ALE yne Syr Flaccus wordes deny. And saieth that he will According vnto right, Proue y* he hath spoke al these wordes Of falshod and despight. The Harranlde then beginne Therof to make the crie, With speare in hand like lusty knights They runne immediatly, When speares were broke, they then Vnto their swordes them take And laiyng on such lode, they teache A medicine for head ake. Suche bloues Alfyne doth deale As he that had bene there Would not haue thought, that Placcus shold So many bloues haue beare. But lo as thinges are set So oftentimes they fall, Their swordes are broke, and they Por other swordes doe call. The which when that they haue. With courage bould and stoute, The manly knightes vnequall macht, Doe lay them rounde about, But Flaccus to Alfyne Hath such a blowe him lent. That maugre all his force, to grounde He Alfyne downe hath sent : p 106 The historie of But Alflne being quicke, He getteth vp againe, And such a blowe Flaccus he lent, That Flaccus he hath slaine. Which when the king behelde With heauy doleful! cheare, He parted thence, much Hke a man Full mad he did appeare. Then Alfyne did commaunde His body to be drawne Throughout the citie round about According to the lawe. Then Alfyne to the court Of Syleuma doth come. And Pandauola in her armes Her Alfyne hath up num And kisseth him full ofte, With geuing thankes certaine Unto her God, that, so Alfyne His enemy hath slaiae. The king with ier possest, No lenger can abyde, But drawes his fatall blade, and it In Alfynes throte doth hyde. Whiche when his daughter sawe That murdring cruell dede, She tooke him vp, and euen then She to her father yede. Desiring him that she. For aU his raging spytes Might geue the body of buriyng, The soloine kinde of rightes. Pandauola. 107 To which thing he doth graunte, But saies, she shall not be At the buriall, but she should stande Where as she might it see. So straight a fyer great Under the toure was made Where she did stande, and AHyne Into the fyer was layde. When she behelde this corps, Alf yne she loude doth call, And sodainly from of the toure She flong her selfe withall, Disdaining lo that so Her father did presume. And there in fyer two louers Did quight and cleane consume. The Ladies they runne in Her father for to tell Who when he harde of his daughter What mischief e had befell : IIpou his fatall sworde, He fell and so was slayne, Not leauiag any issue there As king for to remayne. Finis, quoth J. Pertridge. p2 ^ To Thomas Baynam his friende, Jolm P. wysheth health. Amicus est quasi alter idem. Vnworthy is that wight A beneflte in deede, Which will not once requite A gift that did proceede Prom such a one whose will Indeuour and intent. To pleasure him in very deede, Prom time to time was bent. But like a crabid churle againe Naught wayeng that they payde But for thy gentUnes foreshoude E,equites it with disdaine. As is the prouerbe olde, Wherfore least I should be Acoumpted as vngratefull nowe To such a frende as ye ; I haue this story brought Unto our vulgar speche To pleasure you, wherfore accept The same, I you beseche. And as a recompence Though that the gift be small. Yet doe accept the louing hart The giuer giues withaU. Pihis. 109 1 ©e amore inter amicos. As loue is chiefest thing That common is to all, So faithfulnes is rariste thing That to louers doth fall. For many frendes there be In outwarde kinde of showe, But faitMull friendes as wyse men saye There is a very fewe, Suche friendes I meane, as will Not hault with, hound nor hare But for the profite of his friend, Nor Mend ne foe wUl spare. Nor he who heate nor colde, Ne tempest, wynde, nor rayne, Can cause to flie but in aU stormes Still constant doth remaine. Such one a Juell is. Excelling golde and fee : And he is riche that hath a friende So sure a one as he. The gredy yauning iause Of vipers flattring taile Do what they ca, against such friendes Can naught at all preuaile. aio t 5n ijlaniritia airulatotum. As he is blest in deede That hath a trusty friende, So contrary is he on whome Flatterers doe much intende, For as the trusty friende No paine can call awaye, Euen so doe flatterers flie apase When that no more they may Obteine that they desire, But in his paine and griefe They do him leaue whe their f redship Of ioyse should be the chiefe. But as the Scorpion doth As those that trye doe knowe No hurt at all, so long as you In quiet let them go. But when she once shall feele You, to disturbe her ease Neuer so smal then straight she seekeg Againe you to displease : By pouring out of her Her poysoned styng, wherby She stynges so sore, that out of hande The party stong shall die, Unlesse that the selfe same That stong him so before Be slayne, his health againe He cannot get no more. And yet it standes in doubte Though that the same they get, Ill If that the Scorpion to the hart The poyson so hath set. Hermes, a flattring man Doth lyken well certaine Unto a Camell, which saue white. All colours doth retaine. And as he wantes the same. So like wyse may we see A flatterer, all pointes to haue Saue only honestie. No dagger strikes more depe, Nor Uiper poysones so As doth the flattring parasite, A swete destroiyng to. Therfore if you be wyse, Learne to escewe the snare Of flatterers, or els perhaps They make your purse full bare. And warning take by him That therof feeles the payne If you be wyse, and from such men Your footesteps do you frame. Finis, quoth J. Par. niprmted at London m t\)z time oFtDe tumtt COilET EURIALTS ESCOUTOIT LA LAGUE DES s'uiTErRS, ET EL'T MIS EX LA CHAMBRE PAR LA FEXESTEE, ET DE CE q' FUT FAIT LA. umttitiftpxmsi of ^ccne m t:nf6an,anDof ^et looev eurtalu0,bei;|>( pteafaunt table t?ntotbece« Der, (*) * E.V- s The Emperour Sygismonde enteringe into the Towne of Scene in Tuskane what Honours he receyued : is al redy euery where pub- lished. His palace was prepared at Sayncte Marthyes chapell in the strete that ledethe vnto the Strete, called Tophore. After the Cceremonys flnyshed, when Sigismond was come thyther, foure ladyes in noblenes, facion, age and apparell semhlable dyd mete hym not lyke mortal women : but as goddes, to euery mans iudge- mente and yf they hadde ben but thre they hadde been too bee rekened theym that Parys sawe in his dreme. Sigismod (though he were aged) was prone vnto luste, and delyted muche in deuysinge with ladyes, and reioysed in blandismentes of women, nor nothinge was to hym more plesaunt, then to behold goodly women. Then in aduysinge them (vnlyke to the rest) he was receyued from his horse among them and tumig to his famiHers sayd, saw ye euer any lyke to these women I am in doubt whether these faces be mankynde, or aungels, but surely they are heauely. They casting their eyne to the ground in blushynge became f ayrer, and that ruddy flushynge in theyr chekes, gaue suche a colour to their countenaunce, as hath the ynde euery stoined w' the scarlet, or the whit lilies am5g the purple roses : But amog al : Lucres the yong Ladie not yet of twenty yeres, shone in great brightnes yong maryed in the famyly of the CamiKs, vnto a very rich ma, named Menelaus vnwortheie to whome suche beutye should serue at home, but wel worthye of his wyfe to be deceyued. The stature of the Lady Lucres was more hygher than the other. Her heare plenteous and lyke vnto the gould wyre, which hanged not downe behinde her, after the manner and custome of maydes : but in goulde and stone, she had eclosed it, her forhed high of semely space, wythoute wrynkell, her browes bente facioned, wyth fewe heares, by due space, deuyded, her eyne Q 114 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, shininge wythe suclie brygMnes that lyke as the sonne, they ouer- came the behoulders loking with those she might whome she woulde, flee (and slayne) whe she wold reuyue. Strayt as thriede was her noose, and by euen deuision parted, her fayre chekes, nothinge was more amiable, then these chekes, nor nothing more delectable to behold, wherein (whan she dyd laughe) appeared two proper pytes, whiche no man dyd see, that wished not to haue kissed. Her mouth smal and comely her lippis of corall coloure, handsome to byte on, her small tethe wel set in order semed Cristal, throughe which the quyuerynge tonge dyd send furthe, (not wordes) but mooste plea- saunt armony. What shall I shewe the beautye of her chynne, or the whitenesse of her necke ? Nothynge was in that bodye not too bee praysed, as the outwarde aparaunces shewed token of that was in warder no man beheld her that dyd not enuye her husband, she was in speche as the fame is, that the mother of Gracchus was or the doughter of Hortentius. Nothyng was more sweter, nor soberer, than her talke. She pretended not (as doth mani) honestie by heui countenaunce : but with mery vysage, shewed her sobernes, not fearef uU nor ouer heardye : but vnder drede of shame, she cared in a womans harte. Her apparell was diuers, she wanted, nether broches, borders, gyrdels, nor rynges. The abilymentes of her head, was sumptuouse, many pearles, many dyamantes, were on her fingers and in her borders. I thincke the day that the Greeke Menelaus feested Parys, Helen was no fayrer : nor Adromaches no more gorgeus when shee was married vnto Hector. And amonge those was Katheryne of Perusia that shortelye after dyed, in whose funerals the Emperoure was presounte (and thoughe he were but a chylde) made her Sonne knyght at her sepulchre, and of her the beautye was also merueluse : but no thinge so greate, as of Lucres, her dyd the Emperoure Sigismonde and all other, prayse and beholde, but one among theym, more than ynoughe was sette vppon her. and of her louer Eurialus. 115 T Eurialus of the centre of Erancony, whome neyther shap nor rychesse caused to be vnmete to loue liee was of the age of two and thyrty yeres, not very hyghe stature, hut of gladsome and pleasaunt facion, with noble yene, his chekes ruddy and fayre, as the whyte lylyes amonge the purple roses hys other membres (as who sayed) w' a stateUnes of shape correspodent to his stature. The other cour- tyers by log warre, were but poore Hee besydes his owne substaunee, by famylyarytie wyth the Emperoure, receyued daylie rewardes. He was more and more gorgeouse in sighte of menne, and leade a greate trayne of seruauntes after hym. And he hadde suche a horse (as the tale reporteth) as Menno hadde, whan he came to Troye. Nothing he wanted to prouoke y' same hete of the mynd, called loue but onlye ydlenes, yet youth lust, and the glade goodes of fortune, with whiche thynges Hee was well nouryshed, ouer came hym out of his owne power, Eurialus as sone as he had sene Lucres, he brent in the loue of the Lady, and fyryng his eyne in her face, neuer thought he to haue sene ynoughe, yet loueth he not in vayne, it is a woun- derouse thynge, there were manye goodly yonge men but Lucres had onely chosen thys, there were manie goodly women : But Eurialus had chosen her onely. Neuertheles, not at the tyme knewe Lucres the fame of Eurialus towarde her, nor he hers, but eche one of theym thought to haue loued in vayne. The ceremonyes vnto y* Emperoure finished, she retourned whome, hoole vowed vnto Eurialus, and Eurialus clene geuen vnto Lucres, remaynethe. Who nowe should marueU of the tale of Pyramys and Thysbe ? betwyxte whome, bothe .acquayntaunce and neyghboure- hode myghte be entre of theyr loue, and in tyme grewe theyre lowe. These louers Eurialus and Lucres, neuer sawe nor hearde afore eyther of other, he a Eranchonyen, and she a Tuskan, nor in these busenes they occupyed not theyr tongues : but it was all done w' eyne, sythens that the one so plesed the other. Lucres then wounded Q5 116 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, with greuous care, and take wyth they blynde fyre forgeting all readye that shee is maryed, hateth her husbande, and wyth woundes nouryshynge the wounde holdethe fyxed in her breste the counte- naunce and face of Eurialus, nor geueth no maner reste vnto her lymmes and wyth her selfe saythe, I wote not what lettethe me that I can no more companie with my husbande nothynge delytethe me hys embracynges no thynges pleaseth me hys kysses, his wordes anoye me so standeth alwayes afore myne eyene the ymage of the strauger that to day was nexte vnto the Emperour. Caste halas, oh vnhappye, oute of my chaste breaste that conceyued flames, yf thou maye, yf I myght, halas, I shoulde not be, as I am, euell at ease. A new kind of strengthe agaynste my wyll, draweth me. My desyre and my reson meueth me dyuerslye, I knowe the best, and the worste I folowe. Oh Noble cytezen, what hast thou to do with an vnknowne ma whye brennest thou in straungers loue ? whye seekest thou thy luste, in a straunge countrye ? yf thy husband louethe the thyne owne coutrye may geue thee that thou loueste. Oh, but what a maner of face hath he ? what woman woulde not be meaued wyth his beautye, youth Noblenes, and vertue ? surely I am, and withoute hys helpe, I despayre, God graunt vs better Shall I betray halas, the chaste spousels, and be take me too a straunger, I wote not whence ? which when he hath abused me, shall departe, and shal be an others and so leaue me behinde, but by his countenauce, it is not lyke to be so and the noblenes of his mynde semeth not to be suche nor so pretendethe not the grace of hys beuty that I should fere disceit or his forgeting of loue. And he shall promise a forehande assured, whye do I dread I shall apply it without ferther abrode, parde, I am so fayre that bee will no lesse desyre me, than I hvm, bee shall be myne for euer, yf ones I may receyue hym to my kysses. How many do wo me where so euer I go ? how many ryuals do watche afore my dore ? I shal entende to loue, either he shal tarye here or at hys departinge cary me with hym. Shall I than forsake, and of her louer Eurialus. 117 my mother my husbande and my countrye my mother is frowarde and alwayes againste myne appetites my husbande I had rather wante, than haue, my countrye is there as I delyte to dwel, but shal I so lease my Fame ? whye Not ? what haue I to do wyth mennes wordes which I shall not here ? Nothing shal he dare, y' feareth the theratninge of fame, many other haue, done the same, Helena woulde be rauyshed. Paris caryed her not away against her wil What shal I tel of Dyana or Media ? no ma blameth the fauter that fauteth wyth many. Thus sayd Lucres, nor within his brest, nouryshed Euryalus no lesse flames. In the myd way, betwyxt the Emperors courte, and Euryalus lodgynge was Lucreses house, and Euryalus myght not go vnto the paUace, but showing her self out of the highe wyndowes, was in hys eyne, but always Lucres blusshed, whan she sawe Eurialus, which thyng gaue vnto the Emperour knowledge of the loue Eor as by cus- tome he vsed to ryde here and there, passynge often that way, he saw the woman chaunge countenaunce, by Eurialus comynge, whiche, was as next vnto hym as Mecena to Octauyan to whome the Emperour lokynge asyde, sayde doste thou bren women on thys facion Eurya- lus ? that woman surely loueth the, and ones in maner as though he had enuyed his loue, whe he came before Lucres house he put Eu- rialus cappe ouer his ayne, thou shalte not see- quod he that thou louest, I wyll myselfe vse the sighte. Eurialus aunswered, sir what meanethe this ? I haue nothinge to do with her, but take heede what ye doe least ye bringe suspecte in them that bee here about vs Eurialus was mounted vpon an hygh rayned couler, wyth a small heade, whose shorte bely and f ayre here caused him to shewe, goodly, well brested, lusty, and courageous so that herynge the trumpet he could no where reaste he receyued the fury of the noyse, hys fayre manie honge vppon j" ryght side. And the grounde resowned, beten with his fote, and not much vnlike him was his maister, whe he had 118 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, espied Lucres who beinge alone, as sone as Slie hadde sene him, coulde neyther temper the flame nor her selfe so the vnhappy Lucres did burne. In mene houses dwelleth chastetye, and onely Pouertye vsed good affection and Chastye that hanteth small cotages, knoweth not the policies for ryche mene who that haboundeth in prosperytie lightlye desyreth, vnaccoustomed thynges, Pyers, luste, companyon to fortune hathe chosen dylicate Howses and statly mancions. Lucres, that aften times beholdynge Eurialus passing by, might not ass wage her ardaunte desire, busely thinckinge to whome she might her selfe discouer, for who that secreatlye brenneth, more greuouslie suffreth. There was amonge the seruauntes of her husbaunde, one Zosias an Almaine olde and faithfuU to his maister : whome he had longe serued, verye honestlye, him doth she go vnto trusting more to the nacion than to the man. The Emperour accompanied with manye Noble menne, wente solacyinge throughe the towne, and euen nowe did he passe by the house of Lucres who wha she knew that Eurialus was ther Come hether quod she Zosias I would speke with thee, loke heare out of the windowe, where in the worlde is there onye youthe lyke this, seest thou how vpryght and fayre sprede shoulders they haue, behoulde theyer bushes and well kempte heares Oh, what faces, what fayre neckes. What noble hartes theyr countenauces dothe pretend this is an other kynde of people than our Countrye dothe brede, they seme Goddes or of heauenlie kynde. O that for- tune had giuen me an husbande of one of these, yf myne eyene had not sene them I woulde neuer haue beleued thee, yf thou hadde toulde me of them, Yet the fame is that the Almaynes excelleth all other people, and surelye I beleue that the colde geueth to them great whitnes, the countries so drawyng towarde the Northe. But dooste to knowe anye of them, yea many quod Zosias Than quod and of her louer Eurialus. 119 Lucres, Eurialus the Franconyen, dooste thou know him ? Ye as mine owne selfe, sayth Zosias, but why doste thou aske ? I shall tell thee quod shee. I knowe it shall not be disclosed, thys hoope hath thy goodnes gyuen me. Amonge all them that are about the Em- peroure, none pleaseth me lyke hym. In him mi mynde is meaued. I wotte not wyth what flames I burne, I canne neyther forget hym, nor yet my selfe apease, excepte I maye make my selfe acquaynted wythe hym. Go therefore I beseche thee Zosias, seeke Eurialus, tell him I loue him, nothynge elles I desyre of the, and yet this shalt thou not do in vayne, what is thys quod Zosias ? shall I eyther do suche outrage, or ones thynke it Madame, shall I betraye my Maister ? shal I nowe olde begyne too deceyue, which I haue hated in my youth Rather mooste Noble Ladye of thys Towne caste fourthe the wicked furoure out of thi chaste breste, folowe not thy cruell hoope, but quenche the fire, Hee doth not painefullie put backe loue, that resisteth the firste assautes, but thee that the sweete yll flatering doth nourishe, geueth hym to bondage of a right harde and cruel maister, nor whan hee woulde, maye not forsake the yocke, whiche yf thy husbande should knowe, halas vnder what facyon woulde he tormente the ? no loue can longe lye hyddene. % Houlde thy peace quod Lucres, there is no f eare at all, nothynge he feareth that feareth not death. I am content to suffer it what soeuer happeneth, what oppynyon dooste thou houlde ? Oh vn- happie quod Zosias, thou shalt shame thy house, and onlye of all thy kynne thou shalte bee adulteresse, thinkest (hou the deade can be secreate. A thousand eyne are aboute thee. Thy mother, yf shee do accordinge, shaU not suffer thy outrage to be preuye, not thy husbande, not thy Cousyns, not thy maydens ye and thoughe thy seruauntes woulde holde theyr peace the bestes would speake it, Y dogges the poostes, and the marble stones, and thoughe thou hyde all thou canste not hyde it from God that seeth all, Understande that 120 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, payne is presente vnto a Gyltye thouglite, and the mynde f ylled witli oflfence, feareth. hym selfe. Faytlie is denied in great crimes Asswage I beseeclie thee, the flames of wycked loue, feare to mengle straunge makes in thy husbades bedde, I knowe quod she it is accordinge as thou sayste, but the rage maketh me folow the worse My mynde knoweth howe I fall hedling, but furour hath ouercom and reygneth and ouer all my thought ruleth loue. I am determyned to folow the commandement of loue. Ouermuche alas haue I wrestled in vaine, yf thou haue pytie on me, carye my mesage. !Ful heauie was Zosias with this worde, and sayde to her thus, for these hoore heares on my heade, by age, and for the faithful seruice that I haue done vnto thy kynne humblye I beseche thee leue thys furour and helpe thy selfe, a great parte of helthe is to wyll to be heled. To whome sayth Lucres, all shame hath not forsaken my mynde, I wyll obeye thee Zosia, in the loue that cannot bee hyd only the exchuynge of this yll is by deathe to preuent the offence. Zosias affeared wyth thys sayinge moderate quod hee my ladye the rage of thi vnbrydeled mynde, tempere thy thoughte, nowe arte thou worthi lyfe, when thou iudgest thy selfe worthye of deathe, I am determined quod Lucres to dye. CoUatinus wyfe the faute committed, venged with a swearde. I more honestye shall preuent it, I studye but the kynde of my deathe, a cord swearde, fall or poyson, shall reuege chastitie one of these I shaU assaye. I wyll not suffer thee quod Zosias, quod Lucres who, that determineth to dye, cannot be let. Perria, at the deathe of Bruthus, whan weapon was taken frome her, dyd eate bote coles, If the furoure bee soo frowarde in thy minde quod Zosias, thy lyfe is rather to be socoured, than the fame, deceytful is fame that to the yll, better and to the good worser, is ofte geuen, Lette vs assaye thys Eurialus, and lete vs intende to loue the laboure shall be myne, and as I thyncke, I shall bringe it to effecte : With these wordes the kyndled thought hee enflamed and gaue and of her louer Eurialus, 121 hoope to the doubteful mind but his minde was not to doe as hee sayde, hee thought to deferre the mynde of the woman, to aswage the desyre, as often times time quencheth flames and sufferaunce healeth diseases, Zosias went with fals truste to dryue her forth e tel the Emperoure shoulde departs, or shee shoulde chaung her minde leaste yf hee hadde denyed it, yf another messanger shoulde haue bene founde, or els the woman shoulde haue slayne her selfe, often- times therefore hee fayned hym selfe to goo and come and that he reioyced in her loue, and sought a couenyente tyme that they myghte talke together, sometyme he coulde not speake with hym, some tyme he soughte to be sente oute of the towne, and tyll his retourne de- ferred her glad dayes, so manie dayes he did fede the sicke minde and because he shoulde not lye in al thinges, once onelye he brake vnto Eurialus, sayinge O howe thou arte here beloued, yet whan he asked what that mente, he answered not. But Eurialus strike with the secret darte of Oupido, gaue no rest nor sleape to his lymmes, the fyre so crepte in hys vaynes and vtterly wasted his marie yet knewe he not Zosia, nor thoughte him to be the messeger of Lucres, so haue we al lesse hope then desyre. He whan he sawe him selfe burne, a greate while with thys wisdome wodered and vnder this facion oftentymes blamed him selfe, Lo Eurialus, thou knoweste what the rage of loue is log plaintes, and shorte laughters, few ioyes and manye dredes, alwayes he dyeth and is neuer deade that louethe, what doste thou meddle in vayne at laste quod he, and for noughte, O wrech, whye stryue I againste loue ? May not I do that Julius that Alexader, that Hanybal dyd and these were worthie war- ryoures. Loke besydes vpon Poetes, Virgyll drawen vp by a roape, honge in the mydwaye to the windowe, trustyng to haue embraced his loue. If anye man wyll excuse the Poet, as a folower of a more dissolute lyfe, what shall we saye of Philosophers, maysters of lern- ynge, and rulers of good lyuing. A woman dyd ryde Aristotle like a horse, and ruled hym with a brydle and spurred hym. It is not 122 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, true that is sayde comonlye honoure and loue accorde not together the Emperoures power is equall with the goodes, and who is a greater louer then hee ? They say that Hercules, that was strongest of all menne, and of the race of Godes the disroyl of the lyon and his quyuere layde a parte, toke in hande roke, and trymmed rynges for his fyngers, and sette in order his rudde busshe, And with hys hande, where with hee wonte too carye a mace by tyrHnge of a spin- dell he drewe a threde, it is a naturaU passyon. Berdes are brente with this fyre. The turtuU and the done dothe loue. What shall I saye of beastes ? The horse meueth battell for loue. The feareful hearte sekethe to fyghte And by beleuynge shewethe his f uroure, the fyers Tegre, and the crueU Boore, whettyng his teath, doth vse it. And the Lyons of Lybya set vp theyr roughe manes, whan loue mouethe. The monstures of the sea do fele this heate, nothing is free, ne nothing vnto loue denied. Hate gyueth place vnto it. It styrred the fyers flames of youth, and vnto very age it reuokethe the deade heate, and strikethe the brestes of maydens with a breninge fyre. Whye then doo I stryue againste the lawes of loue ? Loue ouercommeth aU thing and let vs gyue place vnto him. ^ Whan these thynges were concluded, he seeketh a bawde too whome he mighte take her leters to carye to her, Nisus was his faithfuU felowe, and vnderstode muche in suche matters. He takethe the busynes in hande, and hyrethe a woman to whome the letters were taken, writen as foloweth, t IBurialus bnto ilucres. I wolde sende the greatynge and helthe with my letters yf I had any my selfe, but surelye bothe of my healthe and lyfe, the hope hangeth in my handes, more than my selefe I loue the. And I weene it is not vnknowne vnto thee, my face ofte moysted with teres, maye and of her louer Eurialus. 123 shewe token of my woued breste, and the sigMes wliicli in thy pre- sence. I haue cast f ourtlie Take it well I beseclie thee that I discouere me vifto the, thi beautye hath takenne me and the grace of godlye hede, wherein thou passest al other, houldeth me, what lone mente . vnto nowe I neuer knewe, but thou haste subdued me to thy power of thy desyre, longe did I stryue (I confesse) to escape so violente a maister, but thy brightnesse hath ouercome myne endeuoure, the beamys of thine eyne passynge the sonne hath ouercom me. I am taken and am no more myne owne, the vse of meate and drincke thou takest fro me contynuaUy. I the loue, the I desyre, thee I call, thee I awayte, thee I thyncke on the truste in, and with thee I de- lyte mee, thyne is my mynde, and with the it is hole, thou onlye mayste saue me, thou onelyemayste lefe me, the one of these chuse, and what thou intendest, wryte it vnto mee. Bee no more harde in thy wordes in answering me, than thou was with thine eyne in byndyng me, it is no greate thynge that I aske. To speke conue- nyentlye wyth the I aske, this onelye desyreth my letters. That that I wryte, I maye saye afore the this if thou graunt me, I lyue, and well happe I lyue yf not thou sleest my harte that y' more then me loueth. I recomend me vnto thy good grace, and too the trust that I haue in thee. And thus farewell the delyte and resydue of my lyfe. These letters sealed, when the woman had receiued, hasteU she wente vnto Lucres, and fynedynge her alone, sayde vnto her thus. The mooste Noble of the Emperoures Oourte. Thy louer sendeth these letters, and prayeth thee instantlye to make him vnto thy grace. This woman was noted for a baude. And that knewe Lucres and tooke it verye dysplesauntlye to haue a naughtye womanne sente vnto her, and to her she sayde, what madnesse hathe meued the to come to my presence arte thou so boulde to entre in the houses of noble men dareste thou prouoke greate Ladyes too vyolate sacred ii2 124 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, marriage ? skance canne I holde my haudes fro thy eare. bringest thou letters vnto me ? speakest thou vnto me ? darest thou loke me in my face ? If I regarded not more what becometh me thanne what thou deseruest, I shulde so order thee that thou shouldest after this daye neuer carye more letters of loue, entre out of my sighte abhomynable queane, and take thy letters with thee, ye rather gyue them mee, that I maye caste them in the fyre, and snatchinge the paper from her, tare it in peaces and trode vnder her fete, spittinge at it, caste it in the asshes, so should thi selfe be punished Baude quode she more worthy the fyre, than thy lyfe, pycke thee hence shortly leaste that my husbande, f yndynge thee heare gyue thee that that I remitte vnto thee and whyle thou lyuest neuer come in my syghte. A nother woulde haue bene afrayde, but she well acquaynted with the maners of women, thoughte to her selfe, nowe wouldest thou mooste, when thou shewest mooste the contrarye, and sayde vnto her forgeue me madame, I thoughte I had not done amysse, And that it should haue stande wyth thy pleasure, yf it be other- wyse, pardone myne ignoraunce, yf thou wylte not that I retourne vnto thee, I shall obey thy commaundemente, but take thou heede what a louer thou forsakest, and with these woordes departed from her, and when she had found Eurialus : Be of good conforte quod she, thou louer, the woman louethe more thee, then she is loued, But nowe it is was no tyme to wryte vnto thee, I f ounde her sad, but whan I named thee, and gaue her thy letters. She made good countenaunce. And kyssed the paper a thousand times, doubte not thou shaitb shortelye haue an aunsvreare, and thus the olde woman departyngej she was well ware no more to be founde leaste she hadde suffred for her lyinge. ^ Trulye Lucres, after the woman was departed, soughte vp y' peeces of the letter, and sette eche in theyr place, and ioyned soo the torne wordes that she made it legeable, whyche when she hadde and of her louer Eurialus. 125 redde it a thousand tymes, a thousande tymes she kyssed it, and at the last wrapped it in a fayre napkyne, and pute it amonge her Juels, and rememhringe nowe thys words, nowe that woorde, conty- nuallye she socked in more loue, and determined too wryte to Eu- rialus, and sent her letter on thys fashyon endyted. T %\xtxm to iSurialus. O Eurialus, leue to hope after that thou canste not attayne, leue to here me wyth thy letters and messangers, thynke not that I am of that sorte that sell them selues, I am not shee that thou takest me for nor vnto whome thou shouldest send a bawd, seke for thy luste another, No affeccione but chastitie shall folowe, wyth other doo as thee lyketh, but of me aske nothynge, for bee thou sure I am vnmeete for thee. Farwell. Thys letter (thoughe it seemed vnto Eurialus verye harde, and contrary e too thee womannes woordes) yet dyd shewe hym the redye waye howe too sende hys letters, for hee douted not too truste whome she trusted, but the ignoraunce of the Italien toungue com- bred hym, therefore with busye studye he learned it and bee cause loue made hym dyligent, he was in shorte whyle counnynge, and hym selfe alone endyted hys letters, whyche afore hee was wonte to borowe, whan he shuld write anye thynge in Italien. He aunswered than to Lucres, That she shulde not be dyspleased wyth hym, Bycause he sente an vnhoneste womanne to her, sythe hee as a straunger knewe it not, and could vse none other messan- gere. The cause of hys sendynge was hys loue, desyrynge noo dys- honestye. Hee beleued her verye honeste and chaste. And so muche more to bee beloued, and that vahonest womenne and oner lyberall of theyr honour he dydde not onelye not loue : but also greately hate. 126 History of the Lady iMcres of Scene, for ohastitye loste, nothynge is a woman not to be praysed, for bautye is a delectable pleasure, and a frayle, and nougbt to be estemed wytboute bonestye, and tbat sbe that bonesty wynnetb with beantye, passetbe in botb gyftes, And tbat therefore be dyd honoure ber and onelye be desyred to speake wytb ber, tbat be mygbte by bys wordes declare bys mynde, tbat be coulde not by bys letters. Witb sucbe manere of letters bee sente a tokene, not onely rycbe in value, but excellent in the workmansbype. ^ To tbese letters Lu- cres tbus an- swered, * * I baue receyued tby letters, nor it is not tbe womanne nowe I blame tbee for Tbat tbou loueste mee I esteame not greatlye, Por tbou arte neytber alone, nor tbe fyrste wbome tbey saye my beauti batbe deceyued. Manye baue loued me, and do loue mee, but tby laboure as well as tbeyres sbalbe in vayne : I netber can nor wyll talke witb tbee and excepte tbou were a swalow thou canste not fynde me alone. The bouses be bygb, and the gates be kepte. I baue takene tby token for that tbe facione pleasethe me, but because I wyU notbinge of thyne for nogbt, and that it shall not be as a tokene of loue, I sende tbe rynge, whiche my busbande gaue my mother, that it maye be to tbe as pryce of thy Juels for it is of no lesse value than the gyfte. Farewell. To tbese letters Eurialus replied. Great confort wer tby letters vnto mee that thou complaynest no more of tbe womane. But that thou settest thi loue so lyght greueth me sore, for though many do and of her louer Eurialus. 127 loue thee, none of theyr loue is so feruente as myne, but thou be- leueste it not, for that I may not speke with thee, but yf I might thou shuldest not way it so lyght. Would to god as thou sayest, that I might be a swalowe, ye, or a lesse things, that thou myght not shitte thy wendowe agaist mee, but my most grefe is not that thou can not, but that thou wylte not. Ah my Lucres, what meaneth that thou wylte not, yf thou myght woldeste thou not speake wyth mee that am all thyne ? and that nought desireth so muche as to please thee. If thou byde me go into the fyre, I shall soner obey the thou shalte commaunde. Sends me worde I bssschs thee, that yf thou myghte thy wyll were good Geue me not death with thy wordes, that mayste gyue lyf e vnto ms wyth thyns syene. If thou wylts not speake wyth ms because thou may not I am contente, but chaunce that woords I praye thee that sayest my labours shall be in vayne, God forbyds in that suche crueltye. Be I beseche thes ths mors gsntsUsr to thy vsrys louer, yf thou Oontynue so, thou shalte slee mes. And bse thou sure, soner thou with a word then another with a sworde. I aske thou haste none excuse, no man canne forbyds thss that, says thou lousst me, and I am happys that my tokene rsmaynsth with thes, hows soeuer it be I am glade of it, it shall sometyms remember thes of my lous. But it was to sympls, and that that I sends thee now is lesse, but refuse not thou that thy louer sendsth ths, I shal haue out of my coxmtrye dayly beter when they come, thou shalts not lacks them, Thy rynge shall nsusr part from my fyngsr. And instsede of the I shal moyst it with cotinual kysses. Tarewsll my healths, and in that thou mays healps ms. ^ At the last after mani writings and answsrss Lucrss ssnte hym suchs a lettsr. 128 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, 1 ILiicrcs to ©urialus. I wolde fayne Eurialus doo the pleasure, and as thou desireste, rewarde thee with my loue, for that asketh thy Noblenes, and thy condicions deseruethe it, that thou shuldest not loue in vayne, besides thy beautie and goodlye face, but it is not for mee to loue thee. I knowe myselfe, yf I begin to loue I shall neuer keepe mea- sure nor rule. Thou canste not longe be heare, and yf I fall vnto the I canne not lacke the, thou wouldest not to take me withe thee, and I surelye woulde not longe tarrye behynde thee. Many exam- ples do meue to refuse a straungers loue. Jason that wanne the golden flece by Medeas counsell, forsoke her. Theseus hadde bene caste too the Minaturs had not the councell of Adriana healped him, yet dyd hee leue her behinde him in an Hand. What became on the vnhappye Dido, that receyued the wanderinge Eneas Was not her loue her deathe ? I knowe what pearyll it is to receiue a straungers loue nor I wyll not put me into suche hasardes, yong menne are of more stronge mynd, and soner can quence the fyre. A womanne whan she beginneth to loue, onely by death maketh an end. Women rage thei doe not loue, and excepte they bee aunswered with loue nothinge is more teryble, after the fire be kindled, we neither regard fam nor lif The onelye remedye is the obtaininge of the louer, for that that we moost lacke, we moost desyre Nor we feare no daunger for our appetytes, I than synce am maryed and vnto a noble riche man, am determined to exclude all loners, and speciallye thyne, whiche cane not be continually laste, I bee noted as Philis or Sapho. Therefore I desyre thee no more to aske my loue, and lyttle by lyttle to asswage and quenche thyne, for it is more easy to menne then to wome, nor thou yf thou loue me, as thou sayest, woldest not desire that y" shoulde bee my destruccion. for the token I sende thee a crosse of golde, wyth pearles, whiche thoughe it be litle is of some value. Farewell. and of her louer Eurialus. 129 1" Eurialus to thys Letter helde not his peace, But as lie with the newe writing kindeled, so toke he the penne in hande, And vnder this forme folowynge endyted a letter. IF lEutialus buto 3lticres. Honour and helth he vnto my dere hart Lucres she y' geueth me helthe with her leters, though they he medled some what wythe galle, yet I truste when thou hast heard mine thou shalt withdraw it. Thy letters are come to my handes sealed, whiche I haue red oftentimes and kissed as oft. But it semeth to meane another thing than thy minde wolde. Thou desireste me to leue to loue, because it is not mete for thee to folowe a straungers loue, bringinge examples of such that hath bene so deceiued (so eloquentli) that I must rather w5der of thee, the forget y^ Who woulde then leaue to loue, when he seeth suche wyte and lerning in his maistres ? yf thou woldeste haue swaged my loue, thou shuldest not haue shewed thyne elo- quence, for that is not to quech the fyre, but to make it rather flame, the more I reade it, the more I burned, seynge thy beautie and ho- nestie so ioyned with lerninge, but it is in vayne to desire mee to leaue to loue the, Desire the hilles too be come plaine and the riuers to retourne into the springes, Eor aswell may I leaue to loue. As the Sonne his course. If the highe mountanes maye wante snoWes, or the sea fysshes, yf the forestes maye wante Dere, then may Eury- alus forget thee. Men ar not so prone as thou wenest Lucres, to quenche theyr desires, for that that thou geueste vnto our mynde, men do ascribe it vnto youres, but I wU not vndertake that to debate, to that must I answere which toucheth me neare for the deceites of other, thou brigest in exaples wherby y" wylt not rewarde me w' thy loue. But more are to be brought mi lucres, who women hath deceyued, Troylus by Cresyde, Deiphus by Helena, and Circes by her enchauntementes deceyued her louers. 130 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, But it were not accordynge, by j° dedes of a fewe, to iudge all the rest. Souldest thou for a certaine yU man abhorre and accuse all menne ? Or I for manye yU women hate all the rest ? nay, rather lette vs take other examples, as was of Anthonius and Cleopatra, and of other whome y° shortnes of my letters letteth too reherce> but it is red y' the Grekes retournynge frome Troy haue bene holden by straungers loues, nor neuer haue come to theyr countries, but taryed with theyr loues, contente rather too wante theyr frendes, theyr houses, theyre reynes, and other deare thynges, of theyr coun- trye, than too forsake theyr ladyes. This I beseche thee my Lucres remember and note those few thinges that be against our loue. So do I loue thee, to loue thee alwayes, and euer to be thyne. Nor call me not straunger, I pray thee, for I am rather of this coun- trye, tha he that is borne heare, sithens hee is but by chaunce, and I by mine owne choyse, no Countrye is myne but where thou arte. And thoughe I departed at anye tyme my retourne at all bee shorte, nor I shall not retourne at all into mi countrie, But too sette ordere in my businesses, that I maye dwel longe with thee, wherefore, oc- casion maye be found sonne inough The Emperoure bathe nauche to doo in these partyes the charge whereof I wyll sue to haue some- tyme as ambassadoure, And he muste haue a Lieutenaunte in Strucia, and that wyll I optayne, Doubte not my delyte, my herte, and my only truste. If I maye lyue yet pytie thy louer that melteth lyke snowe afore thee. Sone consyder my trauailes, and nowe at the last set an ende to my tormentes, whye punisheste thou me so longe ? I wonder of my selfe howe I haue suffered so many euyles howe I haue waked so manye nyghtes howe I haue forborne my meate and my drynke soo longe ; beholde howe lene I am, and howe pale, a small thynge it is y' holdeth the lyfe within my bodye ; yf I hadde slayne thy Paretes or thy chyldren, thou couldeste punyshe me no sorer, yf thou so handle mee for that I loue thee, what shalte thou do too them that and of her louer Eurialus. 131 haue offended thee ? Ah my Lucres, my Lady, my healthe, and my socoure take me vnto thy grace, and at laste wryte vnto mee that I am thy heloued. nothynge I woulde els but that I myghte saye I am thy Seruaunte. Pardy both Kinges and Emperoures loue their faithful! Seruauntes, nor the Goddes disdayne not to knowe them that loueth theym, Farewell my trust and my dreade. ^ Lyke as towre craked wythin sowndynge outewarde impre- nyble, yf a piece of ordonaunce be shotte againste it, furthe withe it rente in peces : So was Lucres ouercom with Eurialus wordes, for after shee hadde perceiued the diligece of y' louer, her dissembled loue she declared with such letres. 1" iLuctes to iBurialus. I may noo more my Eurialus resiste thy requestes nor longer withold my loue from the I am ouercome vnhappy woman by thy letters, whiche yf thou obserueste nat, accordynge to thy wrytynge, thou shalt be of all periured traytours the worst It is easy to deceyue a Woman, but soo moche Is it the more shamefull now that I am come into thi loue, and as a woman can considre but lytic, thou that arte a man, take charg bothe of thy selfe and of me Thyne I am, and thy faythe I f olowe, and thyne wolde I nat bee, excepte it were for euer, Earewel the staye and leder of my lyfe. ^ After thys were manye letters wryten on both partyes, and Eurialus wrote nat soo vehementelye, as Lucres dyd answer fer- uentlye, and that had both one desyre of theyr metynge, but it semed harde, and almost impossible, sithens the eyne of euery body dyd behold Lucres, which neuer wente forth alone, nor wanted a keper. Nor argus neuer kepte Junes Oowe soo dylygently as Mene- laus caused Lucres too bee kepte. Thys vyce is of property to the s2 132 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, Ytalyens, to shytte rp theyr wyues as theyr treasure, and one my faythe (to my iudgemente) to lytle purpose, for the mooste parte of womenne be of thys sorte, that mooste they desyre that mooste too them is denyed, and whan thou woldest they wyll not, and whan thou woldest not, they wolde, and yf they haue the brydle at lyber- tye, lesse they offende, so that it is as easy to kepe a woman agaynst her wyll as a flocke of flyes in the hete of the sonne, excepte shee bee of her selfe chaste. In vayne dothe the husbande set kepers ouer her, for who shal kepe those kepers, She is crafty, and at them lyghtely she begyneth, and whan she takethe a fantasy, she is vn- reasonable, and lyke an vnbrydeled mule. % Lucres had a brother in lawe he caryed her letters, and was of councell in her loue with him, shee hadde appoynted to shyt priuely Eurialus in hys house, and he dwelled within his stepmother, y' was Lucres mother, whome Lucres dyd oftentymes vysyte, and was also of her oftentymes vysyted, for they dwelt not farre asonder. Nowe thys was the order of it, Eurialus shulde be shyte in the parler, and after the mother was gone to the Churche, Lucres shulde come as it were to speke with her, and nat fyndynge her, shulde tarye for her returne, in the meane tyme she shulde be with Eurialus, this shulde be within two dayes, but these two dayes were too yeres to the louers, for to them y' hoppe well, the houres be longe, and to them that truste lytle they be as shorte, but fortune folowed nat theyre desyres. The mothere mystrusted, and at that daye whan she wente forth, shyt her sone in lawe oute, which broughte too Eurialus the heuye newes, to whome the displesour was noo lesse than too Lucres, whiche whan she sawe her crafte perceyued, let vs go quod she another waye to worke, yet shall not my mother lette my appetyte. One Pandalus was her husbandes cousyn, whome shee had also 3nade pryuy of her secretes, for y' flaminge mynde myght no where and of her louer Eurialus. l33 reste. Slie aduertysed Eurialus to speke with him, for he was trusty and could fynde weU a meane for theyr metynge, but Eurialus thoughts it nat sure to truste hym, who he sawe alwaye w' him. Menelaus fearinge therby deceyt. In takynge deliberacion, he was sete by the Emperoure to Rome, to determyne wythe the Pope for hys Coronacyon, whiche was boothe vnto him and her greuous, but it must be obeyed, so was his Journeye two monethes longe : In the meane tyme Lucres kept her house, shytt vppe her wyndowe, pute on sadde apparell. And no where went she forth, euery body mar- ueled and knewe nat the cause, sythen the wyndowes of y" towne shewed the selfe, and they of y* house tboughte them selfe in darkenes, as though they hadde wated the sonne, seynge her often on her bed and neuer merye, thoughte it sicknes, and sought all remedes that myghte be, but she neuer neyther laughte nor came cute of her chambere, tyll tyme shee knewe that Eurialus was come to the presece of the Emperoure, for than, as waked out of a slepe she layde a parte her sade clothes, and dressed w* her former gorgeousnes, opened her widowes gladli loklg for him, whome whan y^ Emperoure sawe denye it no more quod Eurialus, the matter is perceyued, neuer ma in thy absence myght see Lucres, nowe that thou art come we may se in the brighte mornonge what measure is in loue ; it can nat be cloked nor hydden with hemmes. ^ Ye mocke syr quod Eurialus, and flnde your laughter at me. I know nat what it meaneth, the naythinge of your horses hath per- aduenture wakened here, and whan he hadde sayde, pryuelye he behelde Lucres and fixed faste his eyne in heres, and that was theyr fyrste salutacion after his retourne. Shortely after Nysus Eurialus trusty frende dilygently pursuyng his frendes cause, founde a Tauerne, which behynde Menelaus house hadde a wyndowe toward Lucres chambre. He maketh the Tauerner his frende, and whan hee had voyde the place bringeth thyther Eu- ryalus sayeng, out of this wyndowe maiste thou speke with Lucres* 134 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, betwyxte bouthe houses was a darke can&il, which, no man came too, deuydynge Lucres windowe from the chambre, by the space of three elles. Here satte the louer awaytinge if by chaunce he might see her and he was nat deceyued, for at the laste she came to the wyn- dowe and lokynge here and there, what doost thou quod Eurialus, the nouryshe of my lyfe, whethere tourneste thou thyne iyene, my dere harte ? hyther toume theym I pray thee, loke hether mi helth, beholde, thyne Eurialus is here, I my selfe am here. Art thou here quod Lucres ? Oh my Eurialus, nowe maye I speke with thee, and wold god I might embrace thee. It shall nat nede no great busynes quod Eurialus, I shall sette too a ladder, opene thy chambre, to longe haue we dyflferred the inioyninge of oujpe loue. Beware of that quod shee my Eurialus, yf thou loue my lyfe, heere is a wiudowe on the ryght hande and a verye yll negh- bour, and the tauerner is nat to be trusted, that for a lytle money wolde peradueture betraye bothe thee and mee, but let vs worke otherwyse, it is inough yf here we talke togither. But this is death to me sayethe Eurialus, wythoute I myght iu mine armes embrace thee. In this place dyd they talke longe, and at the laste rechid ech to other tokes uppon a rede, and Eurialus was no more liberall in his gyftes, than Lucres. Zosias perceiued the crafte, and sayde to him selfe. In vayne do I resiste the mynd of the louers, and ex- cepte I prouide wysely, my maistres is vndone, and the house shamed for euer of bothe these ; elles, it is best to withstand the one, my maistres loueth, yf it be secrete, it maketh no mater, she is blynde for loue and seethe not well what she doeth. ^ yf chasteytye can not be kept, it is inoughe to hyde the noyse, leest the hoole house bee slaundered, or leest there bee any murdre done, surelye, I wyll goo to her, and helpe her whyle I myghte. I dyd withstande that no offence shoulde bee doone, and because I myghte nat, it is nowe my parte to hyde that that nedes wyl be, leest it be knowen. Luste is an vniuersall reygnynge myschief, nor and of her louer Eurialus. 135 none there is nat infected wythe this syckenes and he is Judged mooste chaste y' is mooste secrete. And thus thinkynge wyth hym selfe, Lucres cam out of her chambre, and Zosias metynge here, sayde thus, what meaneth it that thou deuyseste w' me no more of thy loue ? and neuertheles Eurialus is beloued of the ? take hede whome thou trustest. The fyrst poynte of wysdome is, nat to loue at all. The nexte that at the leest it be secrete, and thou alone with- oute a messanger canst nat doo it. In what truste thou mayste putte me in, by longe tyme thou hast lerned, yf thou wylte trust me, tell me, for my most care is, leeste thys loue, yf it be knowen, thou shalte suffi-e, and thy husbande most of all. To this answered Lucres, it is as thou sayeste Zosias, and I truste thee mooche, but me thought I wote not howe neglygence, and agaynst my desyre, Nowe that thou offerest thyselfe, I wyll vse thy diligence, and I feare nat to be deceyued of thee. Thou knowest howe I burne, and longe, I may nat endure this flambe, helpe mee that wee maye be togythere, Eurialus for loue languisheth, and I dye Nothing is to vs worse than to lette oar appetyties, yf wee may ones mete togyther, oure loue shall be more temperate, and it shall well be hid. Goo than and shewe to Euryalus the only waye to come to me, yf he wyU within these foure dayes, whan the vyllaynes bringe in whete, • disguise him like a portur, and clothe him seKe in sake clothe and carie the corne in too the garner. Thou knoweste my chambre hath a backe dore by the lader, tel all vnto Eurialus, and I shall wayte for hym, and whan tyme is, I shalbe alone in ray chambre, and whan he is alone let hym put opene the dore and come into me. Zosias thoughte it were a hyghe mater, ferynge a worse, taketh in hande the busynes, and fyndynge Eurialus, appoyntethe with hym y"= order of euery thinge whiche hee as lyght thinges gladlye ac- cepteth, and makethe hym redy to this message and nought plaineth but of longe abode. O insensible brest of a louer. O blynde thoughte. O hardye mynde and vnfearefull hart. What is so 136 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, vnaccessyble that tliou thynkeste nat open inoughe ? what way so sharpe that the semethe nat playne ? what is so close that is nat to bee vnclosed ? thou settest lighte all daungers, thou findest nothinge too harde, vaine is the Jelousie of husbandes against the ; neyther lawe no feare doth holde thee, to no shame arte thou sub- iecte, to al labours is but playe. Oh, loue, subduer of allthynges, a noble man derelie beloued with the Emperoure, rich, of good age, wel lerned, and of gret wite, thou bringest in that case, that purple layde a parte, he clothes him in sake clothe, he dissembleth hys owne face, and of a mayster is he comen a seruaunt, and he that deliciouslie hathe bene nourished, nowe dresseth hys sholders for the burdene, and letteth hym selfe to byre for a comon portour. Oh maruelouse thynge and almooste vncredyble, to se a man, in other thynges a graue counceUer, amonge the companye boystous portoures, pressynge hym selfe among suche raskal people, who wyll seke a greater charge ? This same is it that Ouide meaneth in his transformacions, whan he telleth howe women became beestes, stones or trees, that same is it that the nooble Poete Uirgyl meaneth whan he telleth howe circes enchaunted her louers into beestes for so fearethe it by loue, so is the mynde of man thereby chaunced, that lytle hee differeth from a beest. The mornynge forsakynge the golden bed of Titan, reduced the desyred day, and shortelye the sonne declarynge the coloure of eche thyng reioyced the wayfer Eurialus, that thought him than happye and fortunate, whan he sawe hymselfe among the vyle portours, so goeth he furth into the house of Lucres charged hym selfe wyth whete and settynge it in the garner, discended last of the copany. and as he was taught, the dore of the chambre, that was put to, he thrust ope, and wente in, and shyttynge the dore after hym he foud and of her louer Eurialus. 137 Lucres aboute sylkworke and comyng towarde her, god spede quod hee my dere herte and the onely helpe and hope of my lyfe. Lucres, thoughe she hadde appoynted his matter, at the firste sight, was some what abassed, and thought that it hadde bene rather a spyryte, than her louer Eurialus, for she coulde nat well beliue that suche a man as he wolde aduenture suche perrylles, but after warde in kyssyng and embracynge she knewe wel Eurialus and sayde. Arte thou here quod shee poore portour, arte thou here myne owne Eu- rialus, and than she straynynge hym strayter lokynge in hys face, began her wordes agayne thus Alas quod she my dere herte Euria- lus, what daungers haste thou aduentured, what shall I saye now, I perceyue I am mooste dere vnto thee, I haue made profe of thy loue, and thou shalte neuer fynde me none other wyse vnto thee. God sende vs only good lucke at in our loue, and whyle the spyryt shal rule my lymmes, none shalbe before thee wythe Lucres, no, Nat my husbande, yf I call hym ryghte. My husbande that was gyuen mee agaynste my wyll : where too my minde neuer consented. But nowe I beseche thee my Eurialus, caste a waye this sacke cloth, and shew y^ vnto me as thou arte, put a waye this portours gar- mente and laye awaye these ropes. Let me see my Eurialus. than he caste of the fylti apparell and shone all in gold and purpuU, and began to entende busely to the o%ce of loue, whanne Zosias scrap - ynge at the dore, sayd take hede ye louers, Menelaus sekinge I wote nat what, comethe hyther, hyd al thynge pryuely for oute ye can not scape. Than quod Lucres there is by the bedde a derke closette where bee Juels, thou woteste what I wrote vnto thee, yf my husbande came in, while thou were wythe mee goo thou thyther, there thou mayste be sure in the derke, and neyther styrre nor spytte. Eurialus beynge in doute what he shulde do folowed the womans bydding, she set ope the dore, and went to her worke. There came Menelaus, and one Bertus a scryuener with him, to seke thynges that belonged to, the comon weale, whiche whan they 138 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, were nat in dyuers boxes founde, they are parauenture quod Mene- laus in tlie closet. G-oo Lucres, and fetclie a lyght for to seke liere. With this worde Eurialus was sore afrayde and beganne strayte to hate Lucres, and to hym self e sayde, Ah f oole that I am. Who caused me to comme hether, butte myne owne lyghtenes, I am takenne, I am shamed, I shall leese the Emperoures fauour : what for fauour ? I wolde God my lyfe were safe. Howe shall I scape alyue ? I am sure too dye. Oh vayne, and of all fooles mooste foolyshe, I am fallen in to theese bryeres wylfuUye, to what purpose is the enioynyng of loue, yf it be bought soe deare ? the pleasures be shorte and the doloures infinite. Oh yf we woulde endure these thynges for heauen, it is a maruelous folyshenes of men that for- sakethe lyghte laboures, for longe ioyes auef or loue, whose ioyes bee comparable to smoke, wee putte oure selfes into extreme daungers, Loo, my selfe nowe shall I bee a tale and example to euerye bodye and knowe not what ende shall become of it, yf anye Good sainte woulde healpe me hence, neuer agayne shall suche laboure deceyue. O good Lorde healpe me hece and pardon my youthe. Remember not myne ignoraunces, but saue me to repente me of thys faute. She hath not loued me, but as a dere hathe takene me in the net, my daye is come, no man maye healpe me, but thou good lorde. Ofte haue I herde the deceytes of women, and I coulde nat eschew it. yf I escape nowe there shall neuer no crafte of women deceyue me. But Lucres was all yll combred, that fearyd as muche hys healthe as her owne, and as womens wyttes is more redye than mannes in sodeyne peryles, hadde founde a remedye. Come hether quod she husband, here is a caske in this wyndowe, wherin I haue sene you putte dyuers thynges of charge, let vs see yf the Avrytynge be there, and runnynge as it were to opene it, ouerthrewe it into the strete, and as it had bene by chaunce ; alas quod shee come hethere husbande leest we lese any thynge, the casket is fallen oute of the wyndowe, go quyckely, leest anye Jewels or wrytynges fall oute. and of her louer Eurialus. I39 goo goo for goddes sake, wliy tary ye I wyll loke cute that no man take nothynge. Se the desceyte of the womane, nowe trust them hardelye, no man is so circumspecte, that cannot be deceyued, he was neuer kyndelye deceyued whome his wyfe neuer assaied to deceyue, we are ofte more fortunate thene wyse. Menelaus and Bertus abashed with this same ranne bothe hastely into the streate, the house was high after the Italyan facion and manie steppes downe, whereby Eurialus had space to chauge and putte hym selfe by her coucell into a nother darcke corner- They whe they had gathered the writinges and the iewels, because they founde not that that they sought, wente iato the closette, wher they founde it, and so byddyng her farewel, departed, and she barred the dore. Come forthe quoth she Euryalus, come forthe my dere harte, and the summe of my ioyes, come the wellof my delytes, and sprynge of my gladnes, all thynge is sure, we may talke at lybertie, and now is the place sure for our embracinges, Fortune woulde haue letted oure kyssynges, but God hath fauoured oure loue, and hath not forsaken so faythfull louers, whye taryest thou ? here is thy Lucres, whie lettest thou to embrace her. Eurialus at the laste forsakynge hygh feare, clapseth her wyth his armes. I in my lyfe quod he, was I neuer so feared, but thou arte wel worthy for whome suche thiges shulde be suffered. These kyssinges and swete embraciugs quoth he noo manne shulde haue for noughte, nor, I (to sayetrouthe) haue not boughte deare ynoughe soo greate a pleasure. If after my deathe I might lyue, vsynge thy company, a thousand times wold I dye too bye thy embrachynges so of tene. O howe happye and howe blessed, is it a vysyon, or is it in deede ? do I holde in mine armes ? or do I dreme ? surely e it is thyself e, and thee I haue. Lucres was in a lyghte garmente, that wythoute plyght or wrynkell shewed her bodye as it was, a fayre necke, and the lyghte of eyne lyke the bryght sonne, gladsome countenaunce and a merye face, her chekes lyke lylyes medled wyth roses, swete and sober as her laughynge, t2 140 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, her breaste large and the two papes semynge apples, gathered in Uenus gardeine meued the curage of the thoucher. Eurialus coulde no longer suffer the spurre, but forgettynge all feare, and sobernes layde a parte, sayde vnto the woman : Let ys nowe tast of the f ruyte of loue, hee pressed her soore, and she to the contrarye rested, shewynge howe shee cared for her honestye, and' that her loue de- syred nothynge but onely woordes and kysses : Unto whych Euria- lus smylynge dyd answere, It is knowne quod hee that I am here or it is not knowne, yf it bee knowne there is no manne that wyll not iudge the reaste, yf it bee not knowne, noo moore shall this be, it is the rewarde of loue, and lette me dye rather than want that. O but offence quod Lucres. It is offence quod Eurialus not too vse plea- sure whan thou mayst, should I forsake such occasion graunted and desyred so greately ? and taking her garmente, The stryuynge woman y' wolde not bee ouer comen he ouercame, yet dyd hee not quenche the desyre of Uenus : but rather prouoked a greater thyrste, but Eurialus fearinge a further daunger, after he hade a litle ban- getted, departed, soumethinge agaynste her will and minde, and no man suspected, because he was as one of the portours. As hee wente throughe the strete, Eurialus wonderinge on him selfe said Oh yf the Emperoure shulde now mete with me, and knowe me. what suspecte wold this garmet brynge hym in ? howe wolde hee mocke mee. I shulde bee a tale for euery body, and euer a laughter for him. Neuer wolde he leue me tyll tymee that hee knewe all, and neades tel him I must what this appareU meanethe, but I woulde saye y' it were for another woman than thys, for per- auenture hee loueth her, and also it were not mete too declare hym my loue, for I woulde neuer so betray Lucres, that hathe bothe receiued and saued me. And thus as he thought he sawe Nisus, Achates, and plynius, and goth afore and was not knowne of them tyU he came home, wher as chaungynge hys clothes, vnder coloure of other names, he teUeth the chaunce of the matter, and as hee and of her louer JEurialus. 141 remembretli the feare and the joye so dyd he in tellynge feare and reioyoe, and in the myddes of his feare, ah fole y' I was quod he I trusted a woman with my hed, so was I not councelled of my fathere, whan he taughte me too truste the fay the of no woman, for that they were cruell deceytef ull, chaugeahle, and full of dyuers passios, and I yll remembryng the lesson put my lyfe in a womans handes. what yf anie man hadde knowne me when I was charged wythe wheate ? what shame what slaunder hadde hothe I and myne hade for euer ? The Emperoure wolde haue refused mee, and as lyghte and madde brayned, myght haue estemed me. What yf her husband had founde me in y' closet ? The cyuyll lawe is cruell too adulterers, but the furoure of the husband would haue had greater payne ; the tone hadde ben but shorte deathe : the other, deathe wyth cruell tor- mentes. But set case that he bathe fauoured my lyfe, at y' least he wold haue bounde me, and sent me shamed ynto the Emperoure. ye, thoughe I had escaped hys hades because bee hadde no weapon, and I had answered by my syde, yet hade he a man wythe hym, and weapnes honge at hande vpon the wall, and there manye seuauntes in the house, the noyse shoulde hauerysen andthedores shyt and I shoulde haue ben hadled accordyng. Alas madde that I was, no wysdome, but chaunce bathe delyuered mee from this daunger. Sorowe for chaunce, and it was the readye wytte of her. O trusty woman. O wyse louer. O noble and excelente loue, why should I not trust vnto thee ? why should I not truste thy fay the, yf I hadde a thousande lyues, durst truste with them aU, thou arte faythf ull and wyse, and wysely thou can loue, and healpe thy louer, who could so sone haue the waye too auoyde them that soughtc mee, as thou hadde ? thou hast saued my lyfe, and I vowe it vnto thee, the lyfe that I lyue is not myne, but thyne, and it shall not be greuous vnto mee, for thee to lease that by thee I haue, thou haste the ryght of my lyfe and commaundement on my deathe. O fayre breste, O pleasaunte tongue, O swete eyen, O freshe wittes, 142 History of the Lady Lucres of Scene, O goodly lymmes and well furnyslied, whan shall I see you againe, whan shall I byte the same coral lyppe, and here thee speke within my mouthe ? shall I neuer handell agayne those rounde brestes ? Achates, it is but lytle that thou haste scene in any woman in comparyson too this, the more nearer she is the more fayrer she is, Lydia the fayre wyfe of Candalus the Kynge was no fayrer : I wondere not yf hee woulde shewe her naked vnto Satius for to do him the greater pleasure ; for one my f aythe, yf I myghte, so woulde 1 shew thee this Lady, for els may I not declare vnto thee her beuty nor thou perceiue what ioye I had, but reioyce w' me. I beseche thee that my pleasure was greater than canne be expressed wythe wordes. Thus talked Eurialus with Achates, and Lucres with her selfe sayde as muche, but soo muche lesse was her gladnesse that shee myghte truste none too shewe it vnto, and vnto Zosias shee durste not for shame tell all. In the mean tyme a knight called Pacorus, of a noble House folowinge the Emperour, began to loue Lucres, and because hee was fayre and goodly, thoughte to be beloued, and onlye rekened the chastitye of the woman to let him, She as y" custo of Italy is behelde euery body withe a lourynge countenance, whether it were by disceit or crafte, least the true loue shuld appere. Pacorus rageth and cane not be in rest tyll he haue felte her minde. The matrones of Shene went ofte to visyte y^ chapell of our lady of Bethlem. Hyther was Lucres come with two Maydens and an olde wyfe. Pacorus folowed her wyth a vyolet with golde leaues in his hande in the stalke wherof he hadde hydde a letter of Loue, written in fine letters, and haue no maruayle thereof. Por Cicero sayeth there was shewed him the hole History of Troye, so fynelye written, that it myghte all haue ben closed in a nout shel. Pacorus offereth the violette too Lucres, recommending him vnto her, and she refuseth and of her louer Eurialus. 143 it. He desyreth her instantlie to take it, Take the fioure madame quod y" olde wyfe, what f eare you ? there is no pearell, it is but a small thynge : wherein perauenture ye maye doo the gentelman pleasure. She folowed here councell, and tooke the floure, and whanne she hadde gonne a lyttle waye, she tooke it vnto the toone of her maydensj and shortelye after they mette wythe two scholers, which I wot not how lyghtly obtayned the flour of the maide, and openynge the stalke, founde the pleasaunt letter. Nowe after the matronnes of Scene had founde the louers, that the Emperoure broughte, and after the Oourte was come thyther, theese folke were mocked and deceyued, and lyttle estemed, for the clatteringe of barneys delyted more theese women then eloquence of lernynge. Here vppon grewe greate enuye, and the longe gownes soughte alwayes ho we to lette the courtiers. Than whan the crafte of the vyolet was knowne, strayghte was Menelaus gonne vnto, and desyred too red the letter, beyng verye angrye goeth home, blameth hys wyfe, and fylleth all the house wythe noyse. And shee to the con- trarye denyeth that there is one faute in her, and tellynge the hole tale, bryngethe the olde wyfe for wytnesse. The Emperour is gone to, complaint is made, Pacorus is called for and he confessethe the faute, asketh forgeuenes and sweareth neuer more too vexe Lucres, but ryghte well knewe bee that Jupiter rather laughethe then takethe angerlye the periurynge of louers, and soo the more that he was let y' more bee folowetb the vayne flame. The winter is come and the Northe wyndes had broughte downe snows, y' towne faith on plaing, the wiues cast snow balles into the stretes, and the yonge men oute of the stretes into theyr wyndowes. here hade Pacorus gotte occasio, and bad enclosed i waxe an other leter, and putteth it in a snowe ball, and castynge it vnto Lucres wyndowe. Whoo wyll not saye that fortune ruleth all thynge ? one 144 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, happy hour is more worth to thee, tha if Mars shulde recomende thee in his letter to Uenus. Some saye that fortune hathe noo powere in wyse menne, I graunte too suche wyse menne that onlye delyght in vertue ; and sufferynge pouertye, syckenesse, and presonne can thincke theym selfe blessed, which one yet I neuer sawe, nor neuer thyncke there was. The commone lyfe of menne neadeth fortunes fauoure. She whome she wyll she auaunceth, and who shee lysteth ouerthroweth. Whoo hindered Pacorus but forteoune ; was it not wysely handeled, in a violetes stalke to hide his letters and nowe agayne too sende hys letter clouced in snowe, woulde anye man saye it myghte be craftyer, so that yf fortune had holpe he had be iudged crafty, and excellently wyse, but contrary chaunce brought the ball that fell oute of her hande to the fyre, soo that the snowe ones wasted, and the waxe melted, y° letters appeared, which bothe an olde womanne y' warned her, and Menelaus beynge by, dyde reade, and there be ganne a newe noyse, whiche Pacorus dydde not tarye too excuse, but wente hys waye. This noyse healped Eurialus, so that it is true y' hath bene sayde : it is harde defendynge that is diuersly assauted. The louers awaited for the secod maryage and there was a lyttle strayte lane betwyxte Lucres house and her neyghboures, by the whiche settynge his fete vpon eche wall, hee had not ouer harde clymynge too Lucres wyndowe, but this myght only be by nyghte. Nowe must Menelaus go into y' countrey and there must he lye all nyghte, whiche daye was wayted for of those two louers, as it hade bene a Jubyle. The good manne is gone, and Eurialus, chaungynge hys clothes, is come into the lane, there hadde Menelaus a stable, wherein by the teaching of Zosias all the euenynge hee laye hydde in the haye, and loo where Dromo came, y' was a seruaunte of Me- nelaus, and hadde rule of hys horses, to fyll the rackes, and harde by Eurialus syde dyd puUe out hay, and had taken more, and stryke in him with the f orke, had not Zosias helped, who whan hee sawe and of her louer Eurialus. 145 the dauagere, brothere quod he, geue me thys worke. I shall geue hay to the horses, thou in the meane tyme looke that oure supper be redy, we must be mery whyle our maysters is furthe, our mais- tres is better felowe, she is merye and lyberall, he is angrye, full of noyse, couetous, and harde ; wee are neuer well whe he is at home ; se I praye thee what lanke belyes we haue, hee is hungry hym selfe too sterue us to hunger, hee wyll not suffer one moyste peece of browne bread to be loste, but the fragmentes of one daye hee keapethe fyue dayes after, and the gobbets of salte fysh and salte eles of one supper he kepeth vnto another, and marketh the cut chese, leaste anye of it shulde be stolen. The fole y' hi suche wretchednes soketh hys ryches for nothynge is more folysh tha to leue poore for to dye rychli. howe muche are we better w* our maistres ; y' feedeth vs not onely with vele and kydde, but with hennes and byrdes, and plenty of wyne. Go Dromo and make the kytche smoke. Mary quod Dromo, that shall be my charge, and soner shall I laye the tables thanne rub the horse. I broughte my maister into the countre to daye that the DeuyU breke hys necke, and neuer speake hee woorde vnto me butte badde me whan I brought home my horses, to tel my maistres that hee woulde not come home too nyghte ; but by God quod he, I prayse the Zosias y' at the last hast founde faute at my maysters condycions, I had forsaken my may- ster, yf my maystres had not geue me my morowe meles as she hath, lette Ys not sleape to nyght Zosia, but lette vs eate and dryncke tyll it bee daye, my mayster shall not wynne so muche thys moneth, as we shall waste at one supper, gladlye dyd Eurialus here this, and marked the maners of seruants and thoughte he was serued a lyke, and whan Dromo was gonne Eurialus arose, and sayd, happy nyght that throughe thy healpe Zosia I shall haue that haste brought me hether, and wyselye taken heede that I was not disco- uered, and thou shalt not see that I shal be vnkynde. The houre was come, and the glad Eurialus, that had passed two daungers, u 146 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, clame vppe the wall, and at the wyndowe wente in where al thing was ready and Lucres by the fire. She whan she sawe her louer, clasped him in her armes, ther was embracynge and kyssyng, and with full sayle they f olowe theyr lusts, and weried Uenus, nowe with Ceres, and nowe wyth Bachus, was refreshed. Alas, howe longe busynes and howe shoorte be the pleasures ; skant hadde Eurialus one gladde houre lo where Zosias brought woorde that Menelaus was comme and marred all the playe. Eu- rialus maketh hym readye to departe. \ Lucres when she hadde hidden the banket meteth her husbande welcommynge hym home. Welcome quod she my husbande, by mi trouthe quod shee, I wened that thou haddest bene loste in husban- drye, what haste thou done in the countrye thus longe ? why tariest thou nat at whome ? thou makeste mee sadde with thyne absence, I feare leaste thou haue some other that thou louest, these husbandes be so false to theyr wiues ; yf thou wylte that I shall not mystruste thee, neuer slope oute of my companye. Eor I can slepe no nyghte w'oute thee, but lette vs suppe here and go to bedd. They were than in the hall, where they vsed to dyne and she sought for to haue kept him there tyl Eurialus had space for to go his waye, for it required somme leasiire, but Menelaus had supped forthe, and hasted toward his chamber, Now on my fayth and trouth quod Lucres, y" arte vn- kinde, why diddest thou not rather sup with me, because thou was from hence, I haue eaten noo meate to daye, and there were here men of the country that brought in maruelous good wynne, as they sayd, and yet I tasted not of it, but nowe that thou arte come lette vs goo into the celler I beseche thee, and tast yf the wyne be as they say, and so hauynge the laterne in her one hande, puUynge her husbande w' the other hade, wente into the celler, and so longe perced thys vessell and that, and supped with her husbande, tyll she thoughte Eurialus was gonne. And so at the laste wente with her husbande to the euell pleasaunte bed. and of her louer Eurialus. 147 % Eurialus in the styll of y" night wente home. And on the morowe eyther for that it were neeessarye to take hede or for some yll suspecte : Menelaus walled vppe the wyndowe : I thynke as our Cytezens be suspectuous and full of coiectoures : so dyd hee feare the comodyte of the place, and woulde eschewe the occasyon, for thoughe he knewe noughte, yet wyste hee welle that she was muche desyred and daylie prouoked by greate requestes, and iudged a wo- mans thought vnstable, which hath as many myndes as trees hath leues, and that theyr kynde alwaye is desyrous of new thynges, and seldom loue thei theyr husbandes, whom thei haue obteined. Therfore did he folowe the common opynyon of maried men : too auoyde myshape thoughe it come with good lucke, so was theyr meatinge lette, and theyr sendynge of Letters also stopped, for the Tauerner that dwelte behynde Lucres house, where as Eurialus was wounte to speke with here, and geue here letters : at Menelaus per- swasion was putte out by the Aldermen, only remayned the behould- ynge of theyr eyne, and wyth beckes the louers saluted eche other, and skante myght they vse this yttermoeste poynte of loue, theyr sorowes were greate, and theyr tormentes lyke y^ death, for the could neyther forgete, nor use their loue. Whyle Eurialus doothe study dyligentely what auyse hee myghte take in this mater, he remembred Lucres councell whiche she wrot vnto him of Menelaus cousyne Pandalus, and dyd as these cunnyng Physicias, whose man- ners is, in daugerous sycknes to geue indyfferente medecyns and in extreme to vse the last medecins, rather than leue the dysease in- curable. He determyned to goo vnto Pandalus, and folowe that waye that afore he hadde forsaken, and when he had sente for him, called hym into a secrete place. Syte downe quod he my frende, I must tell thee a great thyng that requireth suche thynges as be in thee, that is dyligent, fayth, and secretnesse. I woulde erre nowe haue shewed it thee, but I knewe thee not, nowe I doo knowe thee, and, because thou arte an honest faythfuU man, I loue thee, and u2 148 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, entrete thee, soo that I knewe nothynge els, it is inoughe that thy neyghehoTires prayse thee, and my fellows to, wythe whome thou haste entred frendshyppe, and who and of what sorte thou arte they haue tould mee, of whome I haue learned that thou desyreste my frendeshyppe, whiche I promyse nowe vnto thee, for thou arte as well worthye myne as I am thyne. Nowe for hyeause amonge frendes a thynge is done in fewe wordes, what I woulde, I wyl shew thee. Thou knowest how the kynde of man is prone unto loue, whether it he vertue or vyce, reygneth euery where, nor no hart there is of fleshe that some tyme hathe not felte the prickes of loue. Thou knoweste that neyther the wyse Salomone nor the stronge Samson hath eschaped from this passyon. furthermore the nature of a kyndeled harte and of a f olyshe loue is this, the more it is lette, the more I bourne. "Wyth nothinge soner is this dysease healed, than with obtayninge of the loued. manye there hath bene, both in oure tyme and in oure elder, to whome theyr let hath bene cause of cruel deathe, and agayne many after y" thig ob- tained, haue left to rag. Nothynge is better when loue is crepte into the bones than too geeue place to the rage, for who soo stryueth agaynste the tempest, ofte tymes suffereth wracke and who dryueth with the storme escapeth. This I tel y" for that thou shalte knowe mee loue, and what for my sake thou muste doe, and then what profytte thou shalte haue thereby. I wyll shewe thee all, for nowe I reaken thee as one part of my harte. I loue Lucres, and truly Pandalus it is not by my faut but by y'= gouernaunce of fortune : it whose hades is the hole worlde, that we inhabyte. The customes of the countrey were ynknowne to mee, I thoughte your women hadde felte in theyr hartes that they sheweth with theyr eyene, and that hath deceyued me, for I thought Lucres hadde loued me, because she beheld me pleasantlye, and I agayne begane too loue her, for I thought suche a lady was not Tnmeete to bee beloued for loue, and yet dyd I not and of her louer Eurialus. 149 know the, nor none of tiiy kynne. I loued and wened to haue bene loued ; who is soo stonye harde (heyng loued) that doth not loue ? (But after I sawe I was deceiued.) least my loue shuld be vayne, with all maner of wayes I assayed too kyndell her wythe lyke and lyke fyre, for I bourned and piteously wasted, and shame and trouble of my mynde daye and nyghte dyd marueloaslye tormente me, and I was soo tangled that wyth no wayes I coulde escape, and at the laste I contynued so long, that the loue of vs both lyke pearishe, Jior we se noo remedy too oure lyues, but onelye thy healpe. Her husbande keepeth her in his chaber. The waker dragon dyd neuer keepe so well the golde fleece, nor Cerberus the entre of hel, as Lucres is kepte. I knowe your kynrede, and also I knowe that ye are noble and ryche, and among the beste of thys towne beeloued, but who can withstand destenye ? halas Pandalus it was not by my choyse, but by chaunce, and thus standeth this matter, it is as yet secrete, but withoute it be wel guyded, it is lyke, as God f orbyd, to brede a greate myschef . I peraduenture myghte apeace my selfe yf I wente from hence, whiche thoughe it were greuous vnto me, I woulde do for your families, yf I thought that shoulde healpe, but well I know her rage, eyther she woulde folowe me, or els yf she were con- strayned to tarye, woulde kyU her selfe, whiche woulde be vnto youre house a perpetuall dyshonoure. That I sente for you, is for youre cause to wythstande these mys- cheues, nor there is none other waye but that thou wylt be gouer- nour of oure loue, that the dyssembled fyre maye bee secreate. I recommende, I geeue, and I vowe mee holy vnto thee, be diligent in this furoure, leaste whyle it bee lette, it flame the more. Do so much that wee maye mete together, and soo shall the heate bee aslaked, and made more sufferable ; thou knowest the wayes of the house, thou knoweste when the goodmanne is absente, thou knowest howe to brynge me in, but Menelaus brother muste bee hadde oute of the waye, whiche wayteth euer dylygently for these matters, and 150 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, kepeth Lucres in steade of ber brother, and marketh dylygently her wordes, her lookes, her countenaunce, her spittynges, her coughes, her laughes, and eche thynge he consydereth, hem muste I deceyue, and it cannot bee wythoute thee. Healp therfore I beseche the, and whan her husbande Menelaus is frome home, aduertise me, and his brother that taryeth brynge theym out of the waye y' he neyther take hede to her, nor set none other kepers ouer her, which, if thou wilt vndertake, and healpe mee as my trust is in thee, all is safe, for thou mayste pryuelye, whyle the other be faste in sleape, lette me in, and ease oure furyous loue. What profyte shall ensue of this ? I thynke thou vnderstadest by the discrecyo. Por fyrste thou shalte saue the honoure of the house, and hyde the loue that in no wyse can be publyshed wythoute your shame. Secondly thou shalt saue thy cose in lawes lyfe, and also too Menelaus, saue a wyfe, too whome it shall not bee so hurtefull that shee were myne for one nyght (no man knowynge of it) as yf hee shoulde lese her, all the worlde wonderyng whan she shoulde folowe me. Dyuers women folowed their louers, what yf she determined to folowe mee ? what dyshonoure shoulde it be to your kynne ! what mocke among people ! what shame as weU to al the towne as to you ! some wolde peraduenture say, put her to deth rather than she shoulde doe thus, but woo be vnto hym that syleth hym with bludsheddynge, and remedieth one faute by a greater. Myscheuousnes be not too be encreased but too be lessed. of two good thynges, wee knowe y^ beste is to bee chosen, and of a good and of an ylle, the good, and of two ylles the least. Euerye waye is daungerous, but thys y* I shewe the is leaste peryllous, by which y" shalt not only helpe thine own bloud, but also me that am almoost oute of my wytte too see Lucres suffre as she doth for me : who I would rather dyd hate me, tha I woulde entreate thee ; but thus it is and at thys poynte, and wythe oute thy crafte, thy wytte and thy dyligence y" shyppe be guyded ther remayneth noo hope of and of her louer Eurialus. 151 healthe. Helpe therefore bothe her and me, and saue thy house from shame, And thyncke not that I wyll bee vnkynde, thou knowest I maye doe wythe the Emperoure, and what thou wylte, I wyll gette thee grauted, and thys I promyse thee on my faythe thou shalt bee an Earle by patente, and all thy posteritye shall inioye the same tytle. I commyt vnto thee both Lucres, we, oure loue and fame, the honoure of thy kynne, I truste vnto thy fayth, thou art the arbyter, and all these be in thyne handes : Take hede nowe what dost, for lyke as thou mayst saue, so maist thou spil. ^ Pandalus when he heard this smyled, and after a lytle pause sayde (Al this haue I knowne quod he Eurialus, and wolde God it had not happened, but nowe, as thou sayest, it is at that poynte that I must nedes doo as thou byddeste mee, excepte I wold shame all our kyn and rayse a greate slaunder : The woman idede bren- neth, and hath no power ouer her selfe, and w'out I healpe, she wyl sle her self w' some knyfe, or breke her necke oute of some wyndowe, neyther careth she for honoure nor for her selfe ; she hath toulde me her desyre, I haue blamed her, I haue busyed me too quence the flame, and all in vayne, she careth for nought but for thee, thou arte alwaies in her mynde, that she wysheth, thee she desyreth, and thee onlye shee thynketh vpon, often tymes callynge mee by thy name. Soo is the womanne chaunged by loue, that she semeth not the same. Halas what pytye and what sorowe, there was none in all the towne more chaste or more wyser then Lucres. It is a maruelous thyng yf nature haue geuen loue suche lawe ouer thee myndes of menne. Thys dyssease muste bee healped and with none other cure than thou haste shewed, I wyll goo aboute thys busynes, and whanne tyme is, I shall warne thee, nor seeke no rewarde of thee. It is not the offyce of an honeste manne to aske thanke where none is deserued. I do it to auoyde the fame of oure house, and yf thou take anye bonefyte thereby, I am not therefore to be rewarde. Yet 152 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, quod Eurialus for all that I thancke thee, and as I. sayde, I promyse thee to cause thee to be made Erie and refuse not hardly thys honoure. I refuse it not quod Pandalus, but I woulde not it shoulde come by this meanes. Yf it come lette it come, I wyll no- thynge dooe by couenaunte, yf I myghte haue done it by vnknowne to thee, that thou myghte haue bene with Lucres, I woulde gladly haue done it. Earewell, and thou also quod Eurialus, nowe that thou haste geuen me comf orte, make fayne, fynde, or do by some meanes, that we maye be together. Thou shalt prayse me quod Padalus, and hee departed full glade that he hadde entred in Eu- rialus grace. Hopig to be an Earle, whereof hee was more desyrous, in as muche as he shewed leaste, for there bee manye men, so woman lyke, that whan they saye moste nay, they woulde fayneste. He hathe gotten by f urtheraunce of loue the name of an Earle' and hys posteriars shall shewe for theyr noblenes a gylted bull. Not longe after there was a fray in the coutry among Menelaus husbandmen, and dyuers of them that hadde dronke ouer muche were slayne, wherfore Menelaus must go forth to set good order in these matters, to whome Lucres sayde, husbande thou art heaue and weake, and thy horse goeth harde, borowe therefore some am- belynge horse. And whan he asked where myghte borowe any, Mary quod Pandalus Eurialus hadde very good one, and sure he wyll gladly lende hym thee, yf thou wylte I shall aske hym. Doe quod Menelaus, and Eurialus assone grauted as he was de- syred, takynge it for a good tooken, and to him selfe saide, yf thou leape vppon my horse, I shall doe the same vnto thy wyfe. Nowe the couenaunte was that at fyue of y^ clocke Eurialus shuld wayte in the streate. And shoulde hoope weU yf he harden Pandalus sing. Menelaus was gone, and thee cloudy nyghte had couered the heuen. Lucres taried her time in her chambre, and Eurialus was afor the and of her louer Eurialus. 153 doore, and taryed y* token, but he neyther harde hym synge nor spit. The houre was paste, Achates meued him too departe. It was hard too departe, and ymagyned nowe one cause nowe another. Pandalus sange not because Menelaus brother was lefte there, that soughte eche corner for feare of deceytes, and waked all the whyle. To whome Pandalus sayde, shall we not goo too bedde thys nyght and I am wonderous slepy, I woder of thee that arte a yonge man, and lyke one olde manne, too whome drynes taketh awaye sleape, thou neuer dooste sleape, but before day when other men do ryse. Lette vs goo to bedde, to what purpose do we watche : Lette vs go quod Agemennon, yf thou wylte, but lett vs looke fyrst to the dores yf they be well shutte for doute of theues And whan he was came to tbe dore, he putte to it, nowe one locke, nowe another, and bolted it. There was a great barre of yron that scate two coulde lyfte where wyth the dore was neuer shutte, whych whan Agamennon coulde not put too, desyred healpe. Thou shuttest the dore quod Pandalus as yf the house should be beseged, are we not in a sure city ? wee are at liberty in this towne, and quietnes is come to vs all. The Plorentynes cure enemyes w' whome we haue warre be farre hence. If thou dred enemyes this house can not healpe vs. I wyll this nyght lyfte noo burdons, my shoulders ake, and I am sore brused within. I am not meete for the burden, therefore lyfte thou thy selfe, or let it alone. Well tben quod Agamennon it is ynoughe, and wente to bed. Then quod Eurialus, I wyll tarye here thys houre too se per- aduenture yf anye body doo appere. Achates that was with Eu- rialus was wery of soo longe tarying, and preuely cursed Eurialus whiche had kepte him so longe fro sleape. yet they taryed not longe after, but they sawe Lucres through a creues, carying a light in her hande. Towarde who Eurialus w t and sayd God spedequod he my dere harte Lucres, and shee beyng a feard, woulde haue gone ber waye, but tha remebringe her selfe, What man arte y" quod shee X 154 History of the Lady Lucres of Scene, y' callest mee ? I thyne Eurialus am here quod lie, ope the dore my delite, I haue taryed here halfe this nyghte. Lucres at the lasts knewe his voyce, but because shee feared deceyte, she durste not ope tyll she knewe some token that it was he, and so with greate laboure she remoued y" lockes, but because there were manye fasten, ynges too the dore that a womas stregth could not vndo, shee opened it but halfe a foote wyde. Good ynough quod Eurialus, and stretch- yng hym selfe at last gate in and taketh her in his armes. Achates watched w'oute. Lucres, eyther for feare or for Joy swowned in Eurialus armes, and her strenght faylige wyth pale face semed all ready e deade, but that her pulce and hete remayned, Eurialus wyth the sodeyne chaunce affeared, wyste not what to do, yf I go hence thought he, y* f aute of her death shal be in me to leaue a womanne in suche dauger, yf I tarye, Agamennon or some of the house shall come, and tha I am vndone. Alas vnhappy loue y' haste in the more gal than hony, y"= bytter worme wode is no more soure than thou arte, what daungers haste thou al redye put me in, w' howe manye dethes haste thou thretened my bed ? and haste thou lef te me nowe too haue a woman dye in myne armes ? whye haste y" not rather slayne me ? whye haste thou not torne me w' lyons. Alas howe muche had it bene y* I had dyed in her lappe, tha she in my bosome ! Loue had ouercome the ma, and regarding not his own helth taryed with the womanne, and lyfting vppe her bodie al be moysted wythe teres, kyssed her, Alas Lucres quod he, wher art thou become ? where bee thyne eares ? whye answerest thou not ? why herest thou not ? open thyn eyes, I beseche the looke vpon me, smyle on mee as thou arte wonte ; thy Eurialus is heare, he doth embrace thee, why dooste thou thus trouble me, I wonder, arte thou gone, or dooste thou slepe ; where shall I seke the ? yf thou wouldest dye, why dydest thou not warne me that I myght haue dyed with thee. If y wilt not heare me, my sword shal straight open my syde, and we shall booth dye at ones. Ah my lyfe, my and of her louer Eurialus. 155 darlynge, my delyte, and my only hoppe, and my hole healthe, shall I thus lese thee ? open thyne eyne, lyfte vp thy head, thou art not yet ded, I fele thou arte warme, and thy breathe is yet in thee. Whye doste thou not speake to me ? doste thou receyue me of this sort ? doste y" call me to suche pastyme ? dooste thou gyue me suche a nyght? Else I beseche the' my dere hart, looke on thy Eurialus, I am here ; and wyth that worde he stoude of, his teres flushed so vppon her face, that as wyth droppes of water y' woman awaked out of her slope, and seynge her louer, Alas quod she Eurialus, where haue I ben ? why dydest thou not suffer me to dye ? happlie had I dyed in thy armes, and would god I myght so dye eare thou should depart y° towne. Thus talckynge together, they wente into the chamber, where they hadde suche a nyghte as we iudge the two louers Paris and Helena had after he had taken her away, and it was vnto the so pleasaunte, that they thoughte Mars and Uenus hadde neuer none suche. Thou arte quod Lucres my Ganimedes, my Ypolitus, my Diomedes. Thou arte quod Eurialus my Polexeno, my emly, ye and Uenus her selfe ; and her mouth and now her eyene aad now her chekes he kysseth, and sometyme casting doune the clothes, he sawe suche beautye as he neuer afore saw. I haue found more quod he than I wened, suche a one sawe Acteon of Diana, whanne she bathed her in the foutayne. What is more pleasaunter or more fayrer than these limmes ? nowe haue I bought them wyth pearyll, but what thinge shuld I not haue suffred for thee ? fayre necke, and plesaut brestes, is it you y' I touche, is it you that I haue ? are ye in my handes ? O round lymmes, O swete body, haue I thee in my armes ? Nowe where doth pleasat in the freshnesse of my ioye, that no displeasure myghte here after hurte it. Do I holde thee or do I dreine ? O pleasaunte kysses. Oh dere embrachynges, O swete bytinges, no man lyuenge is more happe than I, or more blessed. But alas howe swyfte bee these houres ! Thou spetefuU nyghte, x2 156 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, why goest y" awaye ? abyde Apollo andtarye vnder the earth. Why dost thou so sone put thy horse into the chayret ? lete them repast ; geue me this nyght as thou dyddest to Alcmena. Whi doest thou Aurora leue so sone the bed of Titan. Yf thou were as pleasaunte vnto hym as Lucres is to me, he wold not suffer thee to aryse so earlye. Neuer sawe I so shorte a nyghte, yet haue I bene in Bri- tayne and in Denmarke : thus saide Eurialus, and Lucres sayde noo lesse, nor suffered not one kysse not one woorde too passe vnrecom- peced. He strained and she strained, and wha they had done they were not wearye, but as Athens rose from the grounde stroger, soo after battell were they more desyrous of warre. The nyghte ended whan Aurora tooke from the Ocean her dewe heere. He departed and longe after myghte not retourne, by thee dayelye watche that was put vnto her. Bet loue ouercame all tbynge, and at laste they founde waie for their mytynge, which long whyle they vsed. In the meane tyme the Emperoure, that all redy was reconcyled to Eugenius, determyne to goo to Rome. This dyd Lucres per- ceyue, for what is that that loue knoweth not ? or who can deceiue a louer ? one therefore Lucres wrote thus vnto Eurialus. If my minde could be wroth toward the, I wold now be angrye with thee, for that thou haste dyssembled thy departynge, but it loueth thee better then me, and maye for no cause be meaued againste thee. Alasse my hert, whi haste thou not told me of the Emperoures departure ? hee makethe hym redye toward hys iourney and I knowe y" shalte not tary behind. Alas what shaU bee come of mee, what shal I do pore woma, wher shal I reste ? yf thou doo for- sake me, my lyfe lasteth not two dayes. Eor theese letters therefore and of her louer Eurialus. 157 moysted with my teares, and for thye ryghte hande, and thy pro- mysed fayth, yf euer I haue deserued ani thyng of thee, or yf euer thou hast had anye delyte by me, haue pyty on thy vnhappy louer. My desire is not that thou shuldist tary but that thou shouldest take me with thee. I wel make as I would go in the euenyng to Bethle, and take but one olde woma with me. Let two or thre of thy seruaimtes bee ther, and by force take me awaye. It is noo greate payne too take one awaye that woulde be gone, nor thynke it noo shame, for Parys the sonne of a kinge dyd lyke wyse, and y" shalte doe no wronge vnto my husbande, for hee shall algates lease mee, for yf it be not by thy takyng, it shal be by death. But I am sure thou wylte not bee so cruell to leaue mee behynde too dye, that euer hath made more of thee than of my lyfe. Farewel mi onlye trust. To whome Eurialus aunswered after- this facion. Hetherto haue I hydde from thee my Lucres my departynge, because thou shouldest not tourmete thee ouermuch afore the tyme. I knowe thy condicions, and vnder what manner thou soroweste, but y' Emperoure departeth not so that he shall not retourne, and whan we shall retourne from E-ome, this is in oure waye to our contrey, and yf so bee y° Emperoure wyll goo any other waye, yf I leue thou shalte se me retourne. Let god neuer suffer mee to come into my countreye. But make me wander lyke Ulyses, yf I come not hether. So comfort thy selfe therfore my dere hert and be of good cheare, bee not sade, but rather lyue merely. Thou sayest thi takynge awaye shoulde bee thee greatest pleasure that coulde bee to me ; it is trouthe, and greater delyte I coulde not haue, tha thee alwais at mi desire : But I must rather take heede to my honoure than to my lust, for the f ayth that thou berest vnto me, byndeth me to . geue thee such fayth fuU counseyle as shulde bee mete for thee. Thou 158 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, knoweste thou art maryed into a noble famylye, and haste j' name of a ryght beautyfull and chaste Lady, and it is not onlye in Italye, but as well in Teutonya, Panonia, Bohemia, and all the worthye partyes, so that yf I take thee awaye (besyd my shame y* for thy sake I set little by), what dyshonoure shuldeste thou do to all thy frendes ! what sorow shulde thy mother take ! what shulde be then spoken of the ? what rumeure shoulde all the worlde heare of thee ? Lo, Lucres, that was called more chast the y® wyfe of Brutus and better tha Penelope, foloweth an adultherer not remembringe neyther her parentes nor countreye ; it is not Lucres, but Ippia, or Medea, y' folowed Jason. Halas what grefe shuld it be to me to here such thinges of the ! oure loue is yet secret, there is noo man that dyspraiseth thee. Thy taking awaie shulde marre all, nor thou were not so praysed as thou shuldest then be blamed. But besides our honour howe were it possible that we shuld use our loue ? I serue the Emperoure, he hath made me riche and of great power, and I cannot departe fro hym wythout the losse of my state, so that yf I shulde leaue hym, I coulde not conuenientlye entertaine thee, ye I shulde contynuallye folowe the courte. We haue no reast, euerye day we chaunge places. The Emperoure hath taryed no where so longe as he bathe done here, and that because of warre, soo that yf I shoulde carye thee about wyth me, and haue thee in my Tent as a folower of the feelde, what reprefe and shame shulde it be both to the and me ! Eor these causes I beseche y' my Lucres put awaye this mynde and remember thy honoure, and flatter not rather thy rage than thy selfe. Another louer peraduenture wolde other wyse counsel thee, and desyre thee to ronne thy waye, that he might abuse thee as longe as he mighte, nothynge regardyng what shuld be f al of it while he mighte satisfye hys appetite, but he were noo true louer that wolde regarde rather his owne lust than thy fame. I councell the my Lucres for the best, tary heare I beseche the and doubte not in my retourne : what so euer the Emperour and of her louer Eurialus. 159 hath to do here, I wyll sue to haue it comytted vnto me y' Imaye accopanye with thee withoute daunger. Parewell, liue andloueme, and thinke my fyre no lesse than thine owne, and moost contrary to my minde I departe. Earewell agayne the delyte and fode of my lyfe. ^ "Wyth these letters the woman somewhat had appesed her selfe, and aunswered that shee woulde folowe his councell. Shortly after Eurialus wente to E/ome withe the Emperoure, where he had not bene longe but be was sicke of an bote ague. The pore vnhappy man when he was burnyng in loue, began also to burne in sycknes, and when loue had wasted his strength by doloure and of y^ disease, litle remaineth of his lyfe, and that spirit was ra- ther entertained with Physicios tha taried of it selfe. The Empe- rour visyted bym dayly, confortig hym as his sonne, and com- maunded that he shoulde haue all cure of medecynes that myghte bee, but none was of more eflfecte for hys remedye then a letter from Lucres, whereby bee vnderstode her helth, which somewhat mynysheth hys sycknes, and made him recouer hys fete, so that bee was at the coronacion of the Emperoure, and there was made knyght. After thys, wha the Emperoure wente too Perusia, bee taryed at Eome, and fro thence wente too Scene, all thoughe bee were but yet weke anc^ verye grene of hys sycknes, but he myghte onelye beboulde Lucres and not speake to her. Many letters wente betwixt them, and agayne there was practysynge for her goynge away. Thre dayes did Eurialus tarye there, and whe he sawe no maner of wayes to come to her, y' as the was take from hym, bee dyd aduertise hys lady of his departynge, but neuer had they suche plesure in theyr c5uersacyon as they had dyspleasur in theyre departinge. Lucres was in her wyndowe when Eurialus rid through the strete, and wyth theyr moyste eyen the one beheld the other. He wept and 160 History of the Ladye Lucres of Scene, she wept, and bothe were destrayned with greuous doloures, as they that f elte theyr hartes tourne of theyr places. If anye ma doth not know the dolour of death let him cosider the departynge of two loners, whiche hath more heuynes and more paynefuU tormet. The soule suffreth in death, for that it parte fro the beloued bodye, and the bodye (the soule ones departed) suffreth not, but whanne two mindes bee ioyned together, soo much is the diuision more full in so muche as the delyte of eyther of them is more sencyble. And surelye heare was not two myndes, but surelye, as wenethe Aristophanes, one soule in two bodies so departed, not one minde from another, but one loue and one mynd was in two deuyded, and the harte suffred particion. Parte of the minde wente and part remayned and all the sences were disperpled and playned too departe fro theyr owne selfe. Nor one drope of bloude remained in the louers faces, but only teares and bewaylinges, and verye death apered in theyr vesages. "Who maye wryte or declare, to thynk the grefes of those mindes, but he y' hath ones in hys lyfe bene like wyse made? Laodomya, whan Prothesilaus wet to y^ siege of Troy, snowned, and whan she knewe of his deathe dyed. Dido, after the predestinate departynge of Eneas, slewe herselfe. And Percia woldc not lyue after Brutus deathe. But thys our Lucres, after Eurialus was out of her syght, fallinge too the earthe, was taken vp by her maidens, and layde iu her beade, and when she came to her selfe, al purple and golden clothes and glad apparel she layde a parte, and were dyspleasaunte tawnye and neuer after was harde synge or seene laughe, nor by no sportes nor ioye, nor myrth, myghte neuer bee reconforted, in whiche condycion when she had a lytic whyle conti- nued, she fel into sycknes, and, because her hearte was absente, the mynde woulde receyue no consolacyon, and at the laste betwyxte the armes of her muche wepynge mother (vsynge vayne cofortarble woordes) she gaue vpe the weryd gooste, dysdaynynge the sorowfull lyfe. and of her louer Eurialus. 161 Eurialus, after he had passed the syght of those eyn y' shuld ueuer agayne see hym, neuer speke to anye bodye in hys iourney, but caryed onlye Lucres in his mynde, and thoughte busylye yf he myghte retourne, and at last came vnto the Emperoure at Perusia, and wente wyth hym too Eerrar, to Mantua, to Trydente, to Oon- stantia, and to Basyle, and so into Hungery, and to Bohemy. But lyke as he folowed the Emperoure so dyd Lucres folow hym in hys sleepe and suffired hym hoo nyghtes rest, who whe he knewe hys true louer to be deed meaued by extreme doloure clothed him in moumynge apparell, and vtterly excluded all coforte, and yet though the Emperoure gaue hym in mariage a ryghte noble and excellente Ladye, yet he neuer enioyed after, but in conclusyon piti- fully wasted his painful lyfe. * ^ Imprynted at London in Louthbury by me Wyl- lyam Copland. * « * THE NORTHREN MOTHERS BLESSING. Theway of Thrift* VVTitten nine yeares before the death of G , Chaucer, L ONDON, Printed by Robert Robinfon for %sf>ert Dexter, i%9 7' t .\ 2ri)e Ntirttren fttotijets iSlcssing, God wold that euery wife that wonnyth in this land Wold teach her doughter as ye shal vnderstand, As a good wife did of the North countre How her doughter should lere a good wife to bee : Eor lack of the moders teaching Makes the doughter of euill Uuing, My leue dere child. My doughter gi£ thou be a wife, wisely thou werke, Looke euer thou loue God and the holy Kirke, Go to Kirke when thou may, and let for no rayne, And then shall thou fare the bet, when thou God has Ful well may they thriue (sayn : That seruen God in their Hue, My leue dere child. Gladly giue thou thy tithes and thine offrings both To the poore at thy gate, be thou neuer loath ; Gif hem of thy good, and be not ouer hard ; Seldom is that house poore there God is steward : For that is best I spende. That for Gods loue I lend. My leeue deere childe. y2 164 The NoTtliren Mothers Blessing. When thou sits in the Kirke thy Bedes shalt thou bid, Therein make no iangling with friend ne sib, Laugh not to scorne nodir old ne yong, Be of good bering and haue a good tongue : Por after thy bering, So shall thy name spring, My leeue dere child. Gif any man with worship desire to wed thee. Wisely him answere, scorne him not what he be, And tell it to thy friends and hide thou it nought. Sit not by him nor stad not that sin mow be wrought : Eor gif a slaunder be once raysed. It is not so sone stilled, My leeue dere chUd. What man that shall wed the fore God with a rins:, Looke thou loue him best of any earthly thing. And meekly him answere and not too snatching ; So may thou slake his yre and be his darling : Eaire Words slaken yre, Suffer and haue thy desire. My leue dere child. Sweete of spech be thou and of milde moode. True in word and dede, so bids our Lord God, And keepe the eucr doughter fro velony and shame That men for thy doing speake the no blame : Good life ends wele. Be true euer as the stele. My leue dere chUd. The Northren Mothers Blessing. 165 Be of fayre sembland and of good manere, Change not thy coutnaunce for ought thou can here, Ne fare not as a giglot what euer thee betyde, Laugh not too loud ne gape not too wide : Maydens should laugh softlye That men here not they bee, My leue dere child. When thou goes by the gate go not too fast, Ne bridle not with thy head, ne thy shoulders cast, Be not of mony words ne sweare not to gret, All euill vices my doughter thou f oryet : Por gif thou haue an euill name, It will turne the to grame. My leue dere child. Goe not oft to the towne as it were a gaze Ero one house to odir for to seeke the maze, Ne go not to market thy barrell to fiU, Ne vse not the Tauern thy worship to spill. For who the Tauerne vsis His thrift he refasis. My leue dere child. Gif thou be in place where good drinke is on loft, Wheder that thou serue or thou sit softe, Mesurely take thou, and get the no blame ; Gif thou be drunken it turnes the to shame. Who so loues measure and skill. He shall ofte haue his will, My leeue dere child. 166 The Northren Mothers Blessing. Go not to the wrastling, ne shoting the cock, As it were a strumpet or a giglot : Be at home doughter and thy things tend, Por thine owne profit at the latter end : Mery is owne thing to see, My dere doughter I tell it thee, My leue dere child. Acquaint the not with euery man goes by the strete, When folks thee bespeaken curtesly hem grete, Let hem not by the wey, nor by hem doe not stond, That they with velony make not thine hert bond : Por all men are not tristy, Gif they speake to thee gayly. My leue dere child. Of lefe men doughter gift thou none take. But thou wote wele how sone it forsake : Men with their gifts wemen oregone Gif they of herts be herd as stone : Bounden is he or shee That gifts takis securely, My leue dere child. In odur mens housen make thee no mastrye, Ne blame thou nothing thou sees with thine eye, Doughter I the prey here thee so wele That all men may sey thou art true as Steele : For wise men and old Sayne good name is worth gold. My leue &c. The Northren Mothers Blessing. 167 Be thou no cliider ne of wordis bold, To missay thy neigliburs neder young ne old. Be thou not too proud ne too enuious For thing that may betyde in odir mens house : For an enuious hert Procures mickle smert. My leue &c. Gif thy neighburs haue riche instore or tyre Therefore make thou no strife ne bren not as fire, But thanke God of goods he has thee yeuen, And so shalt thou doughter good life liuen. For oft at ease he is That loues peace I wis, My leue &c. Huswifely shall thou go on the werk-day. Pride, rest, and idlenes put hem cleane away. And after on the holyday well clad shalt thou be The haUday to worship, God wiU loue the. More for worship of our lord Than for pride of the world. My leue &c. Mekill shame doughter shall that wife tyde That maken poore their husbond with their great pride : Therefore doughter be huswife good. After the wren has vaines men may let blood. For their thrift wexis thin That spend more than they win. My leue dere child. 168 The Northren Mothers Blessing. Wisely looke thy houshold thy meynye, To bitter ne to boner with hem ne bee, And looke what neede is best to be done And thereto set thy meiney sone : Before done deede Another may speede My leue &c. Looke to thy meyny and let them not be ydeU, Thy husband out, looke who does much or litell, And he that does well quite him his meede And gif he doe amisse amend thou him bidde. And gi£ the work be great and the time strait Set to thy bond, and make a huswifes brayd, For they will do better gif thou by them stond, The worke is soner done there as is many bond My leue &c. And looke what thy men doon, & about him wed, At euery deede done be at the tone end, And gif thou finde any fault soone it amend. Eft wiU they doe the better and thou be nere hand. Mikell him behoues to doe A good house that wiir looke to. My leue &c. Looke all thing be well when they worke leauen, And take thy keyes to the when it is euen, Looke all thing be well, and let for no shame And gif thou so do, thou gets thee the lasse blame : Trust no man bett than thy selfe WhUest thou art in thy helth : My leue &c. The Northren Mothers Blessing. 169 Borrow not too gladly, ne take not to trest But the more neede it make or the more breste Make the not rich of oder mens thing The bolder to spend the worse thriuing Por at the ending Home will the borrowed thing, My leue &c. Giue thy meiney their hire at the terme-day Wheder they abiden or els gone away. Be wise euer doughter of their doing That thy friende may haue ioy of thy prouing Loose not the lone of thy frind, Eor a litle that thou mighst spend, My leue &c. Now haue I taught the doughter, so did my moder mee And therfore do theraf ter gif thou think to the. Look or thou wed any ma, that he haue a good name, True of hand and tongue without any blame : For better it is a childe to be vnbome. Than for vnteaching to be forlorne. My leue &c. Sit not at euen too long at gaze with the cup Tor to wassell and drinke all vppe. So to bed betimes, at morne rise beliue And so may thou better learne to thriue : He that woU a good house keepe Must ofte-times breake a sleepe. My leue &c. z 170 The Norihren Mothers Blessing. Gif it betide dougliter thy friend fro the fall And god send the children that for bread will call, And thou haue mickle neede, helpe litle or none. Thou must then care and spare hard as the stone : Por euill that may betide, A man before should dread, My leue &c. Of all thing doughter looke thou thinke, Gif men wold for worship set thee on the benk, Be not too statly doughter noder young ne old, Por some folk are now pore that somtime ware gold : Many folk for pride After weren a naked side. My leue &c. Gif thou be a rich wife be not ouer hard, Welcome thy neigbours that come the toward, Giue hem meat and drink, the more is thy meed Each bodie to his state shold giue the pore at need : Por thing that may thee betide, Loue well thy neighbour thee beside, My leue &c. Take heed to thy children which thou hast born And wait wel to thy doughters that they be not forlorne. And put hem betime to their mariage And giue them of thy good when they be of age. Por maydens bene louely, But they bin vntrusty, My leue &c. The Northren Mothers Blessing. 171 Gif thou loue thy children hold thou hem lowe And gif any of hem misdo banne hem not ne blow, But take a good smart rod and beat hem arowe Till they cry mercy and their gilts bee know. Por gif thou loue thy children wele Spare not the yard neuer a deale. My leue &c. Now looke thou do doughter as I haue taught thee And thou shalt haue my blessing the better may thou the, And euery maiden that good wife wold bee Do as I haue taught you for saint charity : And an that so will do God giue hem his blessing And send hem all heauen at her last ending. AMEN. Explicit. z2 Eift aaag to 5[i)rift. Lord God what is this worldes wele, Riches, reuell and great aray ? Nothing to spare, and all day to spill, Pull sone it wastes and weares awey. When plenty may no lenger paye What wight with him wold then abide ? A careful! man both night and day With heauie hart his head must hide, And all is for default of grace. That God grutches ayenst our gouernaunce When measure may not medle in place. What is it to a man more grieuance. Than sodenly fro manhood for to fall In pride his simple purueyance There pouertie is steward in hall : But hee that can in some season Gedder and keepe or that hee grynde In winter tyme by way of reason Hee shall not be farre behinde. For ther as measure is in mynde Good rule may not long faUe, Yet beware to bee ouer kinde Eor skoring in the comiter tayle ; But wele and worship with welfare Mickle wastes with little winne Full soone brings a housholder bare, 174 The Way to Thrift. With large spending both out and in. Then bee aduised or thou beginne That thou haue none need to plaine, Think what a state theu standest in Eor Pouerty is a priuie payn, And if thou haue hope of help and trist Of lords and ladies with her pleasance And yet beware of Had I wist For old enuy makes new distaunce In pride and pouerty is great penaunce And yet is danger most disease. Here is a cumberrouse acquaintance When noder of hem oder please, Per Had I wist comes euer too late When there lackes both lock and key, What nede is then to spare the yat When nothing is leaned in the way With a pennylesse purse for to pay. How can he then his people please, Many a man had a leue dye. As long to Hue in such disease. A bare beard may soon be shauen There as is none heyre about It faireth as a man that mickle wold hauen And is not else but pore and proud, But euer ready in ilke rout And lay to wed both pot and panne. When the fire clean is blowne out Where shall wee go dyne than ? What need is it to delue deep. There as is no seed to sowe ? The pot is easy for to keep The Way to Thrift. 175 When all the fat is ouerblowe, Noder for the kyte ne for the crow Incumber not thine owne nest. Too mickle bend will breake thy bow When thy game is alder best, Ensample men may see all day. Yet keep I no man to defend. The houshold and great aray Is Lords life and Ladies game, When gladshippe grows into grame And for need must begge and borrwo Pirst comes pride and after shame, And from solace turnes to suddain sorrow. EINIS. MAIirror of Martjrs^ M OR I ^The life and death ofl |/thac thrice valiant C^P^' jtainc, and moft godly MartyreJ i Sir lohnOid'caftle knight Lord Cobhim. Printed by V.S. for Willi- am Wood. KjO* I-: /. To the liuely image of all moraU Virtues, and true perfection of heauen-borne Arts, William Couell Bachelor of Diuinitie, all successe agreeable to the auncient worth of his ancestors. This Poem (Right Wor:) which I present to your learned view, some two yeares agoe was made fit for the Print ; that so long keeping the corner of my studie, wherein I vse to put waste paper : This first trew Oldcastle, thought himseKe iniurde, because he might not bee suffered to sustaine the second Mar- tyrdome of the Presse : In somuch that I was con- tented he should stand bare-headed to these churlish times, and endure the censure of his vtmost enemies, onely to make his Death more glorious. Howsoeuer, now Jie passeth vnder your protection ; and though my pensill be too weake, either for his or your picture, accept of the same, because it comes from zeale. The admirer of your vertues, lo Weeuer. 2 a To the Authors most honored friend, Kichard Dalton of Pilling, enricht with, all gifts of Nature, and graced with the chiefe ornaments of true Gentilitie. How ioyfully the Authors Poem goes, To thee, whose wit, whose vertues he admires, With what a willing soule hee daUy shows. That loue, the which thy loue of him requires. Whose name he honors, and whose machlesse worth. He can imagine better than set forth. His minde farre more is, than his feeble might. Yet hath he wouen of this home-spunne thred. So fine a webbe, so richly scourde and dight, (Minerua like) beyond the wisest head : The which to praise, were onely to this end, To marre the loome, and not the cloth to mend. Kf)t Eife anJr trcatf) of SSit lo : (©llrcastle Faire Lucifer, the messenger of light, Vpon the bosome of the star-deckt skie, Begins to chase the rauen-fethered night : That stops the passage of his percing eie : And heauing vp the brim of his bright beuer, Would make that day, which day was counted neuer. But Mercuric, be thou the morning Star, Beare my embassage from Elysium, Shew to my countrie hence remoued far. Prom these pauilions I can neuer come : Staind vice ascends from out th'infernall deepes. But in the heauens vnspotted vertue keepes. Deliuer but in swasiue eloquence, Both of my life and death the veritie, Set vp a iS** quis, giue intelligence. That such a day shaU be my Tragedie : If thousands flocke to heare a Poets pen, To heare a god, how many millions then ? 2a2 180 21ie life and death The many-lieaded multitude were drawne By Brutus speaoh, that Caesar was ambitious. When eloquent Mark Antonie had showne His vertues, who but Brutus then was vicious ? Mans memory, with new, forgets the old. One tale is good vntill another's told. Sing thou my dirgies like a dying Swan, Whose painfull death requires a playning dittie : That my complaint may pierce the hart of man, Plaine be thy song, sweete, pleasing, full of pittie : And more, to moue the multitude to ruth. Let my apparell be the naked truth. Truth bring I nak't, for other weedes she scorneth, Saue that her smocke in flames of coulored silke Is strangelie wrought, her beawtie it adorneth. As through the same it peares more white then milke : In open view she comes, faire, comelie, meeke, For, Truth the hidden corners doth not seeke. My father Eeignold Cobham (whom so many Haue crown'd with euer-greene victorious bales), For valorous worth before him plac'd not any ; O but I must be parciall in his praise. T'emblazon forth her owne truth. Truth's denide, Herein the Truth, for Truth, is counted pride. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 181 Within the Spring-tide of my flowring youth He stept into the winter of his age : Made meanes (Mercurius thus begins the Truth,) That I was made Sir Thomas Mowbraies page : A meanes to die, who meanes to line so long, Aged in ill, in goodnesse euer yong. There did I spend my purple-coloured May, Bathing in bHsse, and courtHe blandishment ; Vntill the sentence on Saint Lamberts day Pronounced was of Mowbraies banishment ; Of Englands woe, of Eichards lowe deposing. Of Herfords honour, of my seruice losing. He might haue seen how Pate that day fore-pointed. That gloomie day wherein the heauens did mone : She would haue Herford Englands king annointed, To rend the wreath of Diamonds from his Throne : But Majesty, whose lustre is so bright, Destroies the sense, and dazleth the sight. Fate the foule of-spring of black Erebus, Th'inhabitresse of foamie Phlegeton : 111 fortunes day star, good lucks Hesperus, Pale Deaths fore-teller, grim Porphyrion. loues scribe in brasse with pens of dragons wings, The chiefe commaundresse both of gods and kings. 182 The life and death Earths Genius, mans inauspicious starre, A triple power, the knowledge of things past, To come, and present, Trumpeter to warre, 111 at the first, injurious at the last ; A crosse wherewith we all must rest contented, Pate tho fore-seene can seldome hee preuented. Then whil'st the Aprill of my yong yeares lasted, (Aged in nothing onely hut my name :) Her forward budding in the prime I blasted, With wind of pride, and hoarie frost of shame ; With riotous Loue, whose highest point's a pleasure. With paine before, repentance at more leasure. And like a Trau'ler which his way hath lost, In th'vnknowne woods, when vp and downe he rangeth. On euery side with blind Meander's crost. And this for that, that for another changeth : Within the sharp-set thickets long thus tost. At length finds this that he himselfe hath lost. So in my youth I was a Traueler, Within this world a wildernesse of woe, No Palmers then could tell a Passenger Which way from danger safely he might goe : Led once astray in youth, who euer found His first trode path, where pleasures do abound. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight. 183 Thus lost within the Laborinth of sin, Wandring the woods in Egypts gloomie Night, Tying no threed from whence I first came in, No Sun to shine, no star to giue me light : Echidnaes ofspring, hell-borne serpents knew me. And at their pleasures to strange pleasures drew me. Some way I left before I had begun it, And some was knottie, othersome would bryre me : This marrish ground, and yet I could not shun it. This steepe and sandie sooner it would tyre me ; This way to follow vertue would procure me. To this my youthful head-strong yeares did lure me. And youth excusd the errours in my nature. Whose greenenes tooke vpon him all the fault : Perswading me, such power was in no creature. Once to resist vice when it gaue assault : Perswasion's vaine, for one to vices bent. The minde agrees, as Nature doth consent. Audacious Youth, impatient being moued, A witlesse substance in a seeming show ; Scorner of age, of age yet best beloued ; By Phaeton the world's ouerthrow, A sleepe, a dreame, a brauling lunacie, A selfe-conceit short-killing plurasie. 184 The life and death Before tliis Youtli in mirtMull sports was lauisht, No meane Cumrades, no base associates. In company with my perfections rauisht, Swore me for one of their confederates, Por valour, wit, and court-ship few came nie me, In all which, Richard, Henries both did trie me. But valour, court-ship, wit, and all good parts. Make without maners but a glittring show : Nature is onely beautified with arts : Wit oftentimes is her owne ouerthrow. This court-ship, valour, wit, al are disgraced. Within the minde when vertue is not placed. For strange attempts, for Mars-like chiualrie. Among my fellowes yet I beare the bell. In hastie wroth, and heedlesse hazardrie, I counted vertue alwaies to excell. And deem'd it better perish in the field. Then for base feare my weapons vp to yeeld. Feare the miads fall with lasting iofamie, In expectation of some future ill : Twixt Mars and Venus got in luxurie, A cold congealed ice, a bloudlesse chill, An Ecstasis, a breeder of gray haires. An abject spirit, scorne to youthfuU yeares. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight. 185 Yet the world poys'ned with a swaggering humour, Of some shape-altring Succuhus begot ; A wynd-swolne monster, many headed Rumour : Vices preseruer, vertues festred rot ; Prides male-content, minds putrified wound, A liqour moist distilled from the ground. This ayres innate and chiefest qualitie, This Ship-mans hose ; this heat-extinguisher. This gallants wisdome, wise -mens guUerie, This paynted wethercocke. Arts diminisher. With cowardize beginneth to empeach me. Because in worth not able for to reach me. We daft the world with time ourselues beguiled. Dreaming on nought saue on eternitie, And good Successe from highest heauens smiled On our attempt's and mirthfuU jollitie : For that seemes good which present pleasures brings, Tho't bee the roote, from whence all euil springs. Successe, the friend of famous Conquerours, Faire Fortunes handmaid, daughter of pure blood. The worlds darling, wish of Emperours, Desyres great Goddesse, fauorite of the good, From pale facde death or danger euer blest me. And with the robe of honour doth inuest me. 2b 186 The life and death And seeking how she might the more inhaunce me, Though lewd my hauiour was, vnsound my carriage, With roialtie and high discent t'aduance me, Shee join'd me with a Ladie faire in mariage ; By whose high honour I first won the name And Seignorie of Cohhams endlesse fame. Long I injoi'd this weary wing of Fame, My beauteous wife, my Margarite of worth. Whose Nature was more precious then her name. All titles were but staines to set her forth ; Por stature, bewtie, vertue, wit, and blood. More comelie none, faire, sober, matchlesse, good. But bewtie, stature, vertue, wit, nor blood, Nor yet the ripenesse of a flowring age, Faire, comelie, sober, matchlesse, lustie, good. Can aught at aU delay deaths murdrous rage, For all these gifts from Margarite ycome. And buried lie with Margarite in her tombe. Hymen put on his saffron-coloured cote. And now vice had no warrantize by yeares, With that I gin my fellowes faults to note. Sounding sweete councell in their Adders eares. But ill it seem d me them to blame : though I Censurd my selfe like mine owne enemy. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight 187 Delight saw this, and would not slip the season, But in my soule shee made a strange diuision ; The sensuall parts shee armed all gainst Reason, Defending goodnesse to be superstition ; A fopperie, a fond Precisians toy. The which who loues, doth Hue still void of ioy. My wil, whose obiect was the chief est good. And vnderstanding facultie the truth, This sharpe encounter cowardlie withstood. So weakned with the pleasures of my youth. Tis hard to hate vice which we long haue loued. An habite got once, seldom is remoued. The troupes disperst, now darknesse ends the fight. And reason held his late- won victorie : But inward Senses skirmish in the night. The common sense, E-emembrance, Phantasie, Whose warre, is warre, warre onely to increase. When Reasons warre, is warre to Hue in peace. Faire was the field where first we met, and spatious, Enuironed with odoriferous meads, loyn'd to a Citie, to the sight most gratious. Where stately Trees, with wood-bine pleighted heads. Of Mandrake, Poppie, euer greene did flourish, With liearbs whose iuice the drowsy sense wold nourish. 2b2 188 The life and death Here none sane night-byrds houer with their wings. The fatall scritch-owles, feast profaning Bats ; Prom two faire founts the E,iuer Lethe springs : And on the clearest Mineral! she pats ; Whose stealing streames along the channell fals, Like Euphrates, at first, twixt Edens wals. This crawling runner, hony-bubhling fountaine, Whil'st thousands slept in Nights securitie ; Descending from the Diamond-rockie mountaine. Like the mellifluent brooke of Oastilie ; Turning the sand, and playing with the stones, Would alway answere both their sighes and grones. The Citie with two entrances is graced, Whose workmanship the matter seemes to scorne ; The first, wherein expreslie dreames are placed, With curious Art is builded all of home ; The other made of poHsht luorie. Where dreames vnvail'd, and ouershaddowed be. A sumptuous Temple all of burnisht gold, Within the wals erected vnto night. Which Phantasies in greatest reuerence hold ; Another ChappeU Alethia bight. With diners formes, to diuers shapes, some tall, Some vglie, winged, wither'd, grosse, some small. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight. 189 With scaling ladders on tlie walls I venter, (In which fierce entrance well I might haue perisht,) Whose PaUaces no sooner could I enter, But pleasant sights, my soule and senses cherisht : Erom ghastly feare faire Icolon me keepes, * And lullabies my thoughts with carelesse sleepes. Sweete Sleepe, distresse and sorrowes soueraigne cure, Worthie entitled Nox sonne Morpheus, Send downe from Heauen vnto PaUinure, Mans king and Gods endeard by Orpheus, Within the circuit of this pallace knew me, And pleasures past, with what would come, did shew me. Por the Idsea of a thing in sleepe, May be imprinted in the Phantasie, With shape-transforming visions so deepe. That it deludes the senses outwardly, And so in forme and in estate appeere Within the mind as if he waking were. Thus neere Iberiaes foremost fertile coast, I entred in Gades two-leau'd brasen dore. Where I espide of Demi-gods an hoast. Landing vpon the sea-Atlanticke shore. In yeeres none yong, with yeeres not any olde. None parcht with heate, none withered with colde. 190 The life and death These Deities liu'd in so rare a ground, Whicli thrice a yeere her fruitfulnes did show. Yet plow nor planting did her forehead wound. No other winde but Zephyrus did blow, No showres, no raine, for fruits will neuer perish. Which the danke moisture of the ayre doth cherish. Downe in a dale enameled with roses. Ten thousand Adones standing on a raw. And by a crannie which a garden closes. So many Virgins and wood Nymphs I saw. With brests haKe hid, with loose dishevil'd haire. To catch the baulme-sweete breathing of the aire. Which gamesomKe into their bosomes got. Whisks vp and downe, twines, curls yp their tresses. And enterlaces with a Trew-loues knot ; And last ; diuides each haire, each plight vndresses ; Playes fast and loose, as fearing least his sport Should end too soone, his pleasure be too short. Thrice twenty thousand Cupids in their eies. Bathing them seines ; so many Graces set Vpon the bancks their browes ; each (naked) hies : The first place in this paradize to get. Tell me the man these visions would not moue, Eor Sight br cedes wonder, wonder bringeth Lone. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 191 One though.t of hate, ten thoughts of loue reuiueth, "Whilst beauty charmes the vertue of the senses. Great powers small aide gainst loues encounter giueth : Wit's but a warrant for these sweete offences : What hope hath reason now to quench loues fire, When hate breedes loue, wit kindleth loues desire ? Mine inward sense thus argu'd with my reason. Told her these saints, this heauenly place enioying : Spent all their life in mirth, their baiting season Slept ia delights ; and past in amorous toying : Gainst heauen herselfe who would not be rebelling. To liue, where loue, youth, beutie haue their dwelling. With that I stretcht my lims along the bed, Hauing no power to ope my gowHe eyes ; Thrice ore the caddow I mine armes out spred : Thrice did I fall, before I once could rise : Leaning vpon mine elbow for a rest. Nodding, I knockt my chin against my brest. Then sigh'd, slipt downe, and twixt the sheete and I nuzled in, joyn'd knees and chin together : [pillow I dream' d I wore a garland of greene wiUow. But snuffling low, I prickt me with a fether ; So wakt, the bolster for my backe I chose. And yawning thrice, X rub'd mine eyes and rose. 192 The life and death At length, well wakened from the pleasing slumber ; (O that such slumbers euer should awake !) As I began my follies past to number, Despair e gainst comfort gins a head to make. Yet in remembrance of my youthfuU yeares, Innumerable sins, I spent innumerable teares. Like to a needle plac'd in equall distance. Betwixt a Load-stone and an Adamant, By either drawne, to neither makes resistance : But stands immote as she their force did dant. So do I stand in great perplexitie. And onely certaine in vncertaintie. I'm in a wood, greene may it euer grow, Yet o're my head a threatening Rocke still hingeth ; The Bocke despaire, the wood doth comfort show, The rocke my soule, which worme of conscience stingeth. Twixt wood and rocke, I stand on six and seauen, Yet makes the wood my through-fare into heauen. So (but I Kst not of my valour boast, Tis no ambition though, to boast of good :) Beason outbrau'd this heauen-aspiring hoast. And left them wallowing in their loathsome blood. Whilst many fled, which made the more affraide. Thus I mine ensignes in the aire displaide. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 193 But Rochester shall Eccho forth my praise, If Rochester remaine not most vngratef ull, A sin in fashion for these humerous daies : To whom wee owe, to them we are most hatefuU : O that it were in fashion ; I am sure Nine daies (like wonders) fashions but endure. I must vpbraide her else, not praises giuing, How first my fauours patronag'd her pride : But in too much rememhrance of the lining, In darke obliuion dead mens praise wee hide. A begger from the dunghill once extold, Pprgets himselfe, whom what he was of old. When first her graueU-purified riuer. No bridge vpon her bote-lod'n bosome bore, Some high renowne I striued for to giue her, And made a bridge her swiftest currant o're. Sir Robert Knowles was in the same an actor ; But Cobham was the chiefest benefactor. And Walter Merton, Merton Colledge founder, (Why doth mischance neere charitie thus dwell ?) With lime and sand gainst tempest-beating bound her, Who from her top by great misfortune fell, Riding along the workemen for to see : Fortune is alwaies vertues enemie. 2c 194 The life and death "Kinde Rocliester it seemes hath yet respected, His name should Hue in ages for to come. In whose naemoriall lately is erected An Epitaph upon a Marble tombe : But one good turne another still doth craue : For this ; they found a goblet in his graue. Warham, th'archbishop once of Canterbery, The Iron barres vpon the bridge bestow'd : Warner the copings did reedifie, And many since their liberall minds haue show'd, Whose deedes in life (if deedes can heauen merit) Made them in death all heauenly joyes inherit. Thus Medway by this faire stone bridge adorned, Made Thamesis enamor'd of her beauty ; All other riuers England had he scorned, Yeelding to her kinde loue-deseruing duty, [ings, In smiles, embracements, gratious lookes and greet- In amorous kisses, murmures, night-set meetings. But how he courted, how himself e hee carri'd, And how the fauour of this Nimph he wonne. And with what pompe Thames was to Medway marri'd, Sweete Spenser shewes (O griefe that Spenser's gone !) With whose life heauens a whUe enricht vs more, That by his death wee might be euer pore. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 195 With swifter currant Medway to this day- Prom Maidstone runs, in hope the bridge to kisse, One streame another chasing fast away, That thousands hasting of their purpose misse : And downe the gullet all in anger glide. Yet turne in whirle-pooles round, to vew her side. One streame stands kissing with a naked piller, Whose force rebutts the streame which runneth after. And backe retires, with glaunciag lookes to fill her Long-wisht desire ; and smiles, and falls to laughter. Last (in her language) when she slides away, She seemes to thanke mee for her marriage day. With thanks the gods, with thankes good men are pleased, And thankes she giues him that this bridge first founded : Because this rest her wearie streame hath eased. And now with oares her sides are neuer wounded, But thankefuU she, vnthankef all all the towne, . The cause (no doubt) was once the bridge fell downe. loues issue borne of faire Eurynomes, Mirth's naked mothers, snow-white Charites : Daughters of th'Ocean, riuers Presides, The pride of Desarts, sweete mouth'd Naides, These Mmphs of Ashdon f orrest neuer haunted Medways flour'd banks whilst this fair bridge she wated. 2c2 196 The life and death Por goddesses could not abide the sauour Of millions ouerwhelmed in her brooke : These deyties now take it for a fauour, Their beautie in her glassie streames to looke, All do rejoyce ; and are most thankefull ; man, Which should be thankefull, most vnthankefuU than. Let marriners which shute his arches through Describe aright his length, his bredth, his beautie ; Riding in's sight, they vaile their bonnet low. And strike their top-saUe in submissiue dutie : Hee'l not be brau'd ; no vessell since the marriage Will he receiue, but of a lowly carriage. Some higher ship, whose sailes are swolne with pride, Whose bloudy flaggs like fierie streamers hing. At Chattam lies, and from her hollow side. With double charge sendes forth a culuering, Which rends the shore, and makes the towne to shake, The bridge her breath, herselfe in snuflfe doth take. The fierie smoake this Engine vomits out. To him transported by the aire and wind, Hee straight receiues ; and prisons in throughout His hollow vaults, his creuices, and rindes, So th'aire redoubling in his arches sHps A mocking eccho to these prowder ships. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight 197 This bridge reuiues my dying memorie, Ouer the which I passe into the towne, To view the sacred church of Trinitie : Built by Sir Eobert Knowles : and (though vnknowne) That Ohauntrey joyning to the same I founded, Where Harmonie for euer should be sounded. Sweete Harmonie suppos'd of Pithagoreans, To be the spheares and heauenly bodies motion, Of Platonists, Amphibolites, and louians, A Simmetrie within the soules sharp notion : Heauens handmaide, one of the liberall arts, A concord, all of disagreeing parts. Soule-drowning pleasure rauisher of sense, Elisiums Anthem, court-enchanting spell. Our nouice lady-woing eloquence, The f etcher of Euridice from hell. The cowards courage to vphold his armes, The valiant mans encountring fresh alarmes. The ioy to griefe-accloyd calamitie, Thebes singing Syren to display her banners. Prisoners comfort in cold miserie, Cares cosoner, reformer of the manners ; In sorrow, smart, exilement, hunger, anguish. An helper, least we faint, despaire, or languish. 198 The, life and death Wench- wanton loue, and faire Electraes daughter, Of seauen starres, the seauenth not appearing, Empresse of solace, greatest Queene of laughter, Venus white doue, and Mars his onely dearing. Why am I thus in thy remembrance rotten. And in thy sweete saint-pleasing songs forgotten ? Had some feirce Lionesse by the Libian fountaines. Or blacke-mouth'd barking SciUa brought thee forth, On flintie Etnaes sulphur-flaming mountaines : By Tygres nurs'd in th'ice congealed north. Thou couldst not be more frozen harted hatefull. Injurious more, lesse louing, more vngratefuU. Neptune obtayning but his Amphitrite, By the Dolphins meanes in heauens azure frame ; In the remembrance of this benefite : Ten stars compacted by the Dolphins name ; Nor Gods, nor men, but Olownes, illiterate, rude, Would thus be poisned with ingratitude. O but I heare thy notes Angelicall, On Orpheus siluer-sounding Harp excuse thee. Whose strayned ditties most melodicaU Tell me, the world in dotage doth abuse me : The world is old, and I more old in name. Old age, by youth's preseru'd, not by the same. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, hnight. 199 The time's in dotage, and the world in yeares, This organ-aged litle world man, Which cradle witted infant- waxen peares, Gray coated, fond, pale, hoarie, feeble, wan, Bald, drie, diseased, rheumaticke, and cold : Therefore the world is earthlie doting old. He that lyes well, does well this iU age fit, Hee's a bare foole which speates the naked Truth ; The one wise folHe, th'other foolish wit : This stripling world is alwaies thus in youth : Such wisdome's doting, doting's frostie cold : Therefore the world is foolish doting old. Old age within her hart a Pox doth hold, A Kyte in hand ; a Bee within her brest ; Fox false, deceaues, Kyte greedie, catch thee wold. Bee angrie, stings, beleev'd, come neare, deprest ; These signes all shew within this world I could. Therefore the world is crooked dooting old. Shee builds highe roofes with mines of the Church, Sels lyes for nothing. Nothing for too much ; Faith for three farthings, t'haue thee in the lurch : Shee's meale mouth'd, simple, scarse abiding tuch. First shee is greedie, next, her craft behold : Therefore the world is wylie doting old. 200 The life and death When for a looke shee will be in the laws. To take the wall, is by the wall to dye, At a great word she will her poynard draw, Looke for the pincke if once thou giue the lye. Is she not angry, hot, audacious bold ? Therefore the world is testie doting old. Tis greedie, first, which vsurers will nourish, Tis craftie, Lawers lie not to the truth, Tis angry, Eencers euery where do flourish. Craft, anger, vsury, neuer scene in youth : In crabbed age these vices we behold, Doubtlesse the world is wonderous doting old. But all the world in question is not cald, Eor art can varnish ore decayed nature. Old men haue haire, and many yong men bald, Yet periwigs and painting helpe their feature. In nature weake, in art the world's strong, The world in age againe thus waxeth yong. When great Apollo shewes his threefold might. And by his issue dayly's made the yonger, Keeping his vertue, influence, and light. May not man thinke thereby to Hue the longer ? No, he's a father, though his chin be bare. But man's a monster if he want his haire. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 201 Time was of old, when all of vs were yong, Then we learn'd much, for litle were we knowing, When riper yeares and manhoode made vs strong, Then we knew much, and more still would be showing, Age knowes all well, do nothing well it would. In vertue yong the world, in knowledge old. Our fixed stars, a pur-blind old man's eyes, The aire's a gnastie old mans breath ill smelling, Water a rhume in dropsie when he lyes, Valleyes rough wrinckles, mountaines gowtie swelling ; The earth a sleepy old man's long-kept dregs. Men now a feeble old mans windie egs, Let vs but looke into the giants age, Danske Corioneus English Albion, Or Titans broode which gainst the heauens did rage^ Fierce Lentesmophius, Eflfra, Gration, These were the worlds first youthful! progenie. To these our men are an Epitomie, Whose dig'd vp reliq[ues, if we but behold. Do we not wonder at their ribs or teeth ? Like props and and milstones so our issue old Will wonder at our greatnesse which she seeth. Now are we dwarfs, they will be pismires then. This is the fumbling of our aged men, 2d 202 The life and death Nor thou faire frame with azure lines thicke quoted, Bright heauen thy swift orbicular round motion, (As Linceus-eyde Astronomers haue noted :) From East to West keepes not thy reuolution, Seauen stars their seates haue left, and lost some light : The world is old when heauen is dimme of sight. loue's gone to Libra from his amorous maide. And Mercurie thou'rt fled to Scorpio, then Erom Scorpio Saturne to the Shooters straide. Mars loaths the crab, lies in the lion's den : How can the course of this our world go euen : When all this ods and jarring is in heauen ? Pure, thin, and pleasing, was the aires first breath, Now thick, grosse, noysome tis whereon we feede, A vile contagious mist which can vnneath But pestilence or worse diseases breede : If sicknes thus infect her from the skies. Then the world's old, and on her death-bed lies. The water famous by a Nimphs faire name, Of some foue-leprous body now's the lees : The sea a sinke, and riuers to the same Are rotten pipes, so fountaines in degrees, The world o'reworne, vnwholesome, for new birth Shee must returne needes to her grandame earth. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 203 Our grandame earth, whose for-head is ore thwarted, With high-wayes bald, whose backe huge buildings sway, Whose bellie's stuft with piles of men departed, Boweld, puld out, and garbisht euery day, Heauen, earth, aire, water, man, the world and all. Are doting old and must to mine fall. DeceiptfuU world, blood-thirsty, couetous, Bleare-eyde, mishapt, vntoward, impious, Three-legd, treble-tong'd, bifronted, traiterous, Backe-broken, bald, enuie-swolne, obliuious. Aire, water, putrifide, heauen, earth, infectious, To gods, to men, and to thy selfe injurious. Wax old and die, what ? dost thou want a toombe ? Into thy Chaos backe againe returne : And thus twise child perhappes thou maist becoome. Wax old, a new the sooner to be borne, Meaue while encrease, thou maist decrease thereby. At length wax old, and last for euer die. Die thou for euer with thy harmonie. Extenuate no more worth's matchlesse deedes, Rochester blot me out of memorie, Let Cobham haue disdaine for worthie meedes : Por slaue-born pesants are for worthies deemed And worthies worse then pesants are esteemed. 2d2 204 The life and death loues Pursiuant, nimble Mercurius, The proloquutor of my worlds wonne glorie. Swift as Medusaes flying Pegasus : Heare now (O heare) the processe of my storie, Greiu'd at the world, in anger ouer-shot, My iust complaint I almost had forgot. Looke when the sun most bride-groome like doth rise, Soone as the morne vnbarres her christall gate : So Bullingbrooke vnto the gazers eyes Piseth in Richards royall chaire of state. Whose rising was the cause that millions fel, That we in peace and endlesse pleasure dwel. Great Bolingbrooke this type of chiualrie. In ayding false-faith-breaking Orleance, Against the hote assault of Burgundie, Whose ciuil warres neere driue him out of Prance, To higher honour willing me to call, Of al the forces made me generall. Then ledde I warre mailde vp in sheetes of brasse, Drawne in a Charriot with amaze and horror. Whose fiery steedes Bellona sterne would lash. To strike the Prenchmen in an vncouth terror ; Peare, clamour, wrath, warres followers but assem- bled. The Prench astonisht, turned backe and trembled. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 205 Burgundie stonisht, which so prowdly vaunted, Turn'd backe and trembled, turning warre to peace. So much our souldiers sight his courage daunted, So much the Erenchmen lou'd to liue at ease : How would these warriors then haue feard to fight, When with our looks whole myriads tooke their flight. Marke what ensues (for marking it deserues,) With this dayes honour Orleance not content, But from his oath and neare alliance swerues ; And a bold challenge to king Henry sent : But once forsworne and be forsworne for euer : A Traitor once will be a subiect neuer. Henry (to calme the Sea of war) betraid. Rebates the edge of choller with aduise : Most mildlie answeres to the challenge made ; So of himselfe the Oonquerour did rise. Which conquest is a far more kinglie boast. Then for to brag the conquering of an hoast. Proude Orleance marching with six thousand strong, (Eor hate deepe rooted hardlie left in Erenchmen) Beseig'd the towne of Vergie three moneths long : Three hundred English onlie tliere entrencht then : Of which smal force, (in force great to withstand hers,) I and Sir .E-obert Antfield were commaunders. 206 The life and death Three months expyr'd, mind-loftie Oiieance Saw that his Souldiers courage gan recoile. With that retyr'd his forces back to Prance, Without all honour, victorie, or spoile. All Guien since for sauing of their Towne Long time gaue tribute vnto Englands Crowne. With Thomas Percie Worcesters braue Earle, Against the French againe I went to fight : Percie of bold aduenterous knights the pearle : Many to sword ; but more we put to flight. In wars abroad, in ciuill broiles at home, Oldcastle still selected was for one. Then high-resolued Hotspur, Scotlands terrour, The child of Mars and magnanimitie ; The throne of fame, wars palme, & knighthoods mirrour, loin'd with the Yorkists, made a mutinie. Thus ill to worse, and worse to worse did fall. Worst to rebellion, which was worse then all. To raise all people sooner to commotion, The Archbishop let the commons vnderstand In guilfull Ehetoricke that it was deuotion. Which caus'd them take these home-bred warrs inhand. This euer is a Rebels chiefe pretence. To vaile his treason o're with innocence. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 207 Looke how a swarme of hony-gatliering Bees, (The Muses hirds) leaning their luscious bowers, Follow their king in order and degrees, Vntill they find some arbour deckt with flowers : And then they murmur, hum, and all rejoice : Euen so the Commons yeelding, made a noice. And followed Percie to these ciuill broiles, Who made no doubt of Henries victorie : Emboldened by Scotlands late-won spoiles, Yet left him slaine behind at Shrewsbury : And all the Armie, ventrous, valorous, bold, Hote on the spur, now in the spur lie cold. If this deserue a Conquerours praise, Eor with a Conquest this may make comparison ; Engirt my temples with triumphant bales : Gainst Percie then I led a garrison. Percie so cald ; because he pierst the eie Of the Scots king, and set Northumbers free. Prest then I was with lohn of Lancaster, Vertues Pyramides, fames imagerie. We vanquished our f 6es at Doncaster With wisedome, not with rash temeritie. Tis often seen, ill-pleasing accidents Proceed from rage and hare-braind hardiments. 208 Hie life and death No day which, would not me to wars importune ; No warres, but got palme-crowned yictorie ; No victorie, but brought her handmaide fortune ; No fortune, but enlarg'd my dignitie. Daies, wars, victorie, fortune, and renowne, Cald me so high, to cast me lower downe. On Sea the mild-aspecting heauens would guide me, (Whereon who fares may not commaund his waies ;) Cherubs on earth, and Seraphins would hide me Vnder their brode gold-flaming winged raies. On Sea, on Land, the Heauens, and Angels all, Eirst fauoured me, at last to make me faU. Fall, ah ! no fall, but honour-climing staire : Staire, ah no staire ; but prince-ascending Throne : Throne, ah no throne ; but loues gold-scorning chaire : Ohaire, ah no chaire ; but Heauen her selfe alone : That no tong, mind, nor Art, can tell, think, measure. My crownd, soule-pleasing, sweet, joy, mirth, & plesure. The radiant Eos, which so brightlie shone, "Whose lamps enlightned all this Hemisphare : Henry the fourth vnto Elisium's gone ; Of whose departure England gins to f eare Her soddain fall ; and, iudg'd by outward signe, Henry the fifth would lose his fathers shine. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight 209 Looke how the Suns approach doth ouershade The lesser stars from entercourse of sight ; But from the worlds quick-eie the San eonuaide, The Stars receiue from him their former light. Stars by the Sun ; Sun in the stars be graced, In Sun, in Stars, heauens sun-bright glori's placed. Henry the Pift euen thus did rise, whose shine Of vertue dimm'd all kings before him quight ; He being barred from his glorious shrine. Their memorie reuiu'd, and shone more bright : Thus they by him, and he in them was graced. In them, in him, faire Englands glorie placed. Now one, by none, but one makes all illustrious. One the first mouer of this firmament. In ruling all her orbes and spheares industrious ; Sun, stars, all plannets are to her obedient ; Like the first mouer as she now appeares, O that she might all England moue his yeares. When Henry first injoi'd th'imperiall Crowne, A blazing Comet in the West appeared ; At which strange yision, pointed streaming downe. The common sort Art-ignorant much feared. A cause, or signe, some said twas, to portend. The kingdomes fall, or kings yntimely end. 2e 210 The life and death Our sharper wits suppos'd tlius Ouid wrasted The fable of foole-hardie Phaeton, When some huge Comet was dissolu'd and wasted, Great heat, and drinesse following therevpon, Por want of water so the world burned, But vpside downe the Suns carr neuer turned. This all-aflfrighting Comet I haue heard To he the plighted tresse of Meropes, Or staring haires within the curled beard Of Vulcans prentice swartie Steropes. Be what it wUl, this much I do define, Of kingdomes fall tis neither cause nor signe. A Comet is an earth-agreeing vapour, Drawne by the power attractiue of some star, Eyr'd by the Suns beames, burneth like a tapour : Seen in the supream region of the aire : Turning those beames, receiueth forme withall, Bearded, or trest, or stretching forth his taile. Why should a mist-hung Star-exhaled Meteor To kings or kingdomes be prestigious ? Whose cause is not aboue the power of Nature : Why should it seeme to men prodigious ? Vnlesse we would this Axiom reject, A naturall cause, a naturall effect. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 211 In Europe many Comets haue we seen Eore-running kings, nor kingdomes ouerthrow, And kings with kingdomes vanquished haue been, When neuer Comet in the Aire did show. To prophesie from Comets, or deuine, Tis foolerie, they neither cause nor signe. If euer sheild-shapt Comet was portent Of Criticke day, foule and pernitious : Then to the Erenchmen, this assigne was sent. Disaster, fatall, inauspitious : Whose bloudie tresses tilting did foreshow. At Agincourt their blooddie ouerthrow. Or else it was (would it had neuer been,) But the fore-runner of my Tragedie : And heauens saw (oh had they neuer seen) I should soUicite nimble Mercurie, To ingraue my words vpon the hardest mettle. Whose Characters in harts of Steele may setle. Which when heauens saw, (what doth not heauens see?) With raine of teares she seemes my case to weepe, Vsing all meanes, but all meanes would not bee, Erom death insuing danger me to keepe. But hard it is for heauens to preuent. When destinies for death giue once consent. 2e 2 212 The life and death My Destinies are set in parlament, Aboue their heades a curious frame of stone : Marble below, and during Adamant, On each side flint, and softer object none, Saue that in chaires of hardest oake they sate, Insteede of wooU-packes neere the barred gate. In scarlet vestments, winter-coloured tresses, Iron their wands, of brasse their writing table, Penns made of tinne ; for inke strong aqua fortis. Their paper steele, their carpet Indian sable, Their countenance like Caiphas, mou'd to ruth ; Por god, religion, valour, age, nor youth. In Paules thus sate this vniuersall Sinode, The cheife Archbishop Thomas Arundell, More sterne then Minos, Eacus, or Herode, Like Rhadamanth the grim-fac'd iudge of hell : In the first yeare of Henries happy raigne. Last of my ioy, and midle of my paine. Pirst the forsworne Inquisitours sent to them, Of Wickleues (as they tearm'd them) villanies. Out of whose bookes they did coUect, to shoe them. Two hundred sixtie and six heresies ; All stricken dumbe, they star'd as if their eies Should for an answere then intreate the skies, of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 213 To stop the worlds talkatiue wide moutli, Wherefore they sate vpon this conuocation. They hired men to blazon for a truth, It was all for the churches reformation ; Thus mischiefe will her vice in vertue smother, Blearing mens eyes with one deceit or other. Por first the sun dissolue might with his beames. The icie bulke of waylesse Caucasus, On whose snowie mantled top it neuer gleames, Then these frost-bitten prelates sembled thus Would otherwise haue all their causes ended, But as before the Sinode they pretended. Nay Mercuric, if with thy charming wand Thou had'st descended from the Olimpique spheares, To plead for pittie, at their f eete to stand With both thine eyelids full of swelling teares. This sense-beguiling action had but ended. My iudgement as before it was pretended. Before these deepe-braind all-fore-seeing Doctours, These reuerent fathers purgatorie teachers, I was complain'd of by the generall proctours, To be a great maintainer of good preachers, O times vntaught, men scorners of sound teaching, Louers of playes, and leathers of good preaching. 214 The life and death That Richard, Henries both I had enformed Of the clergies great and manifold abuses : That popish bulls and ceremonies scorned, Roomes dignitie, her rites, and sacred vses, And that I wisht the popes dominion Might stretch no furr then CaUis Ocean. That I had caused Wickleues bookes be sent, Paire writ, to Boheme, J?rance, and Germanic, Whereof two hundred openly were brent By Prages Archbishops great autht^ritie. That I preferd vp Bills in Parliament, Wherto the King and Lords gaue all consent. Of all the Cleargies villainous abusion. Which I put vp in open Parlement, Writ in a brief e-containing sharpe conclusion. These verses were the summarie content, Whose soules with sin empoisning hate did anguish. That they ne're left me till they saw me languish. Flcmgunt Anglorum Oentes crimen Sodomorum, Faulus fert horum sunt idola causa malorum, Surgunt ingrati Oiezite symone nati. Nomine prelati, hoc defensare parati. Qui reges estis, populis quiounque prceestis, Qualiter hijs estis gladios prohihere potestis. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight. 215 His owne translation. Bewaile may England sinne of Sodomites, .For Idoles and they are ground of all their wo, Of Symon Magus a sect of hypocrites, Surnamed Prelates, are vp with them to go, And to vphold them in all that they may do : You that be rulers peculiarly selected, How can you suffer such mischiefes vncorrected ? Now least delay bred danger, they were prest Por to proclaime me for an heretike, But one of more experience than the rest, Such hazard rash proceedings did not like. Because I was in fauour with the King, Twas best (he thought) to haue his councelling My life-surmising Bishops swolne in rage. Ambitiously (high Prelates lowlines) As if th'ad vow'd sin-pard'ning pilgrimage. With tapers to Saint Peters holines, Went to the king, made great complaints and lies, Blemisht my name with grieuious blasphemies. Which when he heard (kings then too much would heare them) Then he desir'd (why should not kings comand ?) In mild-perswading words and deedes to beare them To mee the chiefest pillar of his land. Vnto the church to bring me without rigour, Eespecting. knighthood, prowesse, stocke, and vigour. 216 The life and death And promis'd them vpon his excellence, (If in pursute they tooke deliberation,) In smoother-edge-rebating eloquence To conquer me by might of sweete perswasion ; The clergie gone, Henry for Cobham sent, I came, and shew'd myselEe obedient. Looke how some tender bleeding-harted father, AVhen's son hath vow'd a vertue-gaining voyage, Flint- rock-relenting arguments will gather All to diswade him from this pilgrimage. And prayes, intreates ; intreates, and prayers vaine. At length considers tis for vertues gaine. Yet bout his necke he vseth kissing charmes. And downe his bosome raines a shower of teares, Hugges, cuUes, and clippes him in his aged armes : - This thing he doubts, another thing he feares. Takes leaue, turnes backe, returnes, intreates anew, Giues ouer, weepes, and last, bids him adew. Euen so the king, to stay my voyage tended, (My vowed voyage to the holy land,) Ten thousand reasons both begunne and ended, That gainst the Pope I should in no wise stand : Then vowes, prayes, treates ; vowes, treates, and praiers vaine, Prom prayers, treates, and vowes he doth refraine. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, hnight. 217 To whom I answerd in tumilitie, (Because I knew kings were the Lords anoynted) To him I yeelded all supremacie, As Gods sword-bearing minister appointed : My body, goods, my life, my lone, my land Were his to vse, distribute, or command. Then in a sorrow-sighing extasie, (Seeing my zealous burning true affection,) Denying to the Pope supremacie, Yeelding to him foote-treading low subjection :) Henry tooke leaue, turn'd backe, entreated new, Gaue ouer, wept, and last bade me adew. If tyrants will, vsurpt authoritie Must be obey'd, what reuerence me behoued To giue this king, this tyrants enemie. Peered for loue, and for his yertues loued, Whose honours ensign e o're the world had spred him. In warres, and peace, if church men had not led him. And tyrants tended on with injurie, With murders, rapes, lou'd only but for feare, Whose sword and scepter gards iniquitie. Ought t'haue their subiects reuerence to them beare, As we ourselues, so must the common wealth. Some sicknesse, sometimes suffer, sometimes health. 2f 218 ^ Tlie life and death As some disease, or bed infecting bUe, Whose pricking ach, sharpe agonie, and stings, Must be sustaind and suffred for a wMle, Till time to his maturitie him brings. Not rashly then, but as the Surgeon will, Least suddaio handling all the bodie spill. Euen so a Tyrant (E,ealmes infectious bile,) Must not be robd of his regalitie. Till death him of his regiment beguile : Or wise men for this griefe find remedie : Not rashly then, for altring of a State Breedes often outrage, bloodshed, and debate. Euen as the head the bodie should commaund, And a]l his parts, to peace or warfare lead : So with a mightie Monarch doth it stand. His subiects parts, and he himselfe the head : . But if those parts do grudge and disobay, Head, bodie. Monarch, subiects, all decay. A God, a King, are conuertible voices. Then Kings like Gods should gouerne and beare sway What Gyants broode in vprore so rejoices. That gainst the Gods his banners will display ? Though with his huge weight Pelion Ossa prest, . And fought with loue, he neuer got the best. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight 219 How many blessed Patriarclies suflfred wrong By cruell Tyrants sin-reuenging rod ! And haue endur'd such heauie bondage long, Accounting it a torture sent from Grod. The Tyrant as a man may be rejected, His place and office yet must be respected. What punishment for practizing belongs ? But punishment, nor practise will I name : Men more doe follow most forbidden wrongs When by forbidding they doe knowe the same. Por Parricide the Bomaines made no Law, Least such a sin the people so might knaw. Now Arundel resorts vnto the King, By Popish charmes inchaunting him thereto, To send Cytations, fore them me to bring. (What was it not but Clergie men could do ?) The Sumner came to Cowling, but as one Afraid, turnd back his message left vndone. The Kings doore-keeper (in the silent night,) John Butler sent for was by Arundell : For this heauen-martyring deede he doubtlesse might In Cerberus place haue kept the doore of Hell. With great rewards, and warrantize from blame, He caus'd him cyte me in king Henries name. 2p2 220 The life and death This kiss-betraying ludas writ I stood, "Who with a lie thus left me in the lurch : But still the Bishop thirstie of my blood, Caus'd writs be set on Rochesters great Church, In paine of curse commaunding me remember To appeare at Ledes th'eleuenth of September. All were rent downe. He excommunicates And cites afresh with curse and interdiction, Compels the Lay power ; them he animates T'assist him in Apostataes conuiction. In more reproach and vile contempt to haue me ; Such like opprobrious names the Bishop gaue me. At last (thus tost) I writ my faiths confession, Vnto the foure chiefe Articles answered : Of Penance, Shrift, Saints, tran substantiation. Which gainst me all by Arundell were laid. I come to Court and written with me bring. My Swans last funerall dirgee to the king, Which to recieue Henry began to grudge : (Marke but the power of Clergie men those dales) Commaunding me deliuer it to my judge (Here ArundeU both sword and miter swaies) The Archbishop : But with a flat deniall, I did appeale vnto the Pope for triall. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 221 But this denyde in presence of the king, (Without vainglorious ostentation,) I proffred an hundreth Knights to bring, Esquiers as many, for my iust purgation. Not once depending on their safe protection. But to the King shew dutifull subjection. Againe I offred in my faiths true quarrell. By law of Armes to fight for life or death. With Christ'n,Heathen, Turk, lew, Infidell : The king excepted, any that drew breath. They answered me, I was too valorous bold : Then in the Tower they laid me fast in hold. Valour the sonne of mightie loue esteemed Where blooddie Manors borroweth his name, Of old Philosophers onelie vertue deemed : Learnings bright sheild, the register of Fame. Which to expresse the Grecians could afi'ord, For Valour, Manors, Vertue, but one word, Death-scorning Arioth, why is not regarded Thy Sun-resplendant kingdome conquering power ? Is Mars-amazing Turnaments rewarded With Traitors meede impris'nment in the Tower ? From bearing Armes valour hath me exempted ; Why was my challenge else not then accepted ? 222 The life and death Sir Robert Morley then the Towers Lieutenant, Twice (to be briefe) did bring me to appeare ; In Plutoes court before this Rhadamant : The Arguments of my strong faith to heare. Yet he no faith had, was it not a wonder. That he was f aithlesse, all the Church Eaith vnder ? In all mine answeares taking great aduise, As a true faith professing Protestant, Not superstitious, nor too fond precise. Whose flrme resolue no tyrannic can dant. So with mine answeares as it seemd amazed. My iudgement on the soddaine forth they blazed. To heauens all seeing light vpon my knees, (The sentence giuen) humblie did I fall, With heau'd-vp hands pray'd for mine enemies. In his great mercie to f orgiue them all : Bound hand and foote back through the Sluce I'm led, The gazers eyes like sluces in his head. Whilst there I lie in midnight-dark immur'd. My friends emblazoned forth mine injurie : Whereby the Priests great obloquie incur'd. Both of tbe Commons, and Nobilitie, In poUicie, to haue this tempest staid, They to my Bils an abjuration made. of Sir lokn Oldcastle, knight. 223 A parlament was cald at Leicester, (Because I had sucli fauour bout the citie, They would not haue it kept at Westminster :) This act establisht was ; O more then pittie, That such strange acts should be establisht euer, Which man from wife, from goods and land doth seuer. That whosoeuer in the mothers tong, Should reade, heare, the sacred Scriptures scand : For this so.hainous heauen-offending wrong. Prom him, his heires, should lose his goods and land ; Gainst Heauens,and gainst the Kings great majestic, He should be hang'd for treason, burnt for heresie. O murder-poisned ruthlesse E/hadamants, Blood-thurstie Neroes, brainsicke Bacchides, Earth swallowed Typhous, currish Coribants, Beare-fostered Dracons, damn'd Busirides. Liue by your euill, know for euill done. Lines with the father, dves not with the son. Now to release my bodie from the Tower, (How might the Tower include so old a castle,) Case^altring bribes I vs'd not, strength, nor power ; But with my wit, out of her bonds I wrastle. The prentice bard of freedom thus aduentures To break his bonds and canceU his indentures. 224 The life and death E/iches in thraldome no contentment bring, All lordship's lost wlieii libertie is gone, What vaileth it a lion be a king ? Closely shut vp within this tower of stone. Man was made free, and lord o're euery creature To be in bondage then, is gainst his nature. The husbandman more glad is at the plough, That browne-bread, crusts, and rustic bacon eates : Then th'imprisOned king that hath inough, Of wastell cakes ; and far more lushious. meates. No bird takes solace by her songs in hold. Although her meate be curds, her cage of gold. Nor vnto mee that lay in prison bound, In musicke mirth was, or in riches pleasure, lingling of fetters had no merie sound, My griefe too much, for ioyes on earth to measure. But now I'm free ; my keeper he remaines To taste my sorrowes ; vndergoe my paines. Nor can I judge, I being misst the morrow, His griefe's extreame, though foolishnes it be, Por treasure lost, to waile, or make great sorrow ; When, whosoeuer greeues in that degree. Counting his losse, and afterward his paine, He of one sorrow maketh sorrowes twaine. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 225 But the remembrance of my prisonment, In little ease fast bound in yron cbaines, Did breede more comfort, joy, and soules content. When Hbertie had loosenes of the raines. One by another contraries delight. Dale is delightsome in respect of nigiit. And though I am escaped froni the Tower, Peare yet my soule in prison fast doth hold. Other mishaps pursue me eu'ry hower, Burnt childe dreadeth fire, the prouerb's old. Who dreades no danger, in danger must fall, What foole once at large, would make himselfe thrall ? Sir Roger Acton, in the priests displeasure, Of my escape was thought the chief e procurement ; Onely when t'was the night, which gaue me leasure, (Whose shade for freedome is the sole allurement :) To thinke of flight, effecting what I thought. With both together my escape I wrought. Night the beginning of this massie round. The worlds mother, shaddow of the earth, Greate Demogorgons issue from the ground, The ancientest of Goddesses by birth. Loners delight ; loues fittest time to play, Venus bright star, and Oupides clearest day. 2g 226 The life and death The ease of care, for ease tlie sweetest rest, The peace of minde, the quiet seate of peace, The soule of sleepe, the sleepe of soules opprest. Desires best meane, impris'nraents release : Aboue all nights, nights, dayes, each hower remember, To solemnize the twenteth of Nouember. Mounting her chariot of darke Ebony, Whilst thorn-backt Cinthia held her lennets raine, Adorned in her winters liuery, Of stars three millions following as her traine. She rockt the world with sense-sure-binding sleeps. And bade me lanch forth to the Ocean deeps. Tide for the ship, and ship was for the tide, Wind for the tide, and tide was for the wind. For Neptune men, and Neptune them to guide, Thames wanton-currant stealing on behind, Night, Neptune, men, ship, tide, the Thames, and For my escape were all in one combind. [wind, And whilst I cut this dangerous swelling sourse. The brest-bare-loue-enticing Naiedes, Play on before me, and direct my course To the dew-bedangled Oceanitides, For whose sweete sake I'm entertain'd a stranger. And harmelesse sau'd fro waves, fro wind, fro danger. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight 227 What time the gloomie morning from her bed, MuflB.ed in mists, and raukie Tapours rose, With watrie lockes about her shoulders spred Regardlessely ; because she did suppose Our quiuering flags and streamers did out-braue The golden sun, vpon the siluer waue. I rode on Goodwins mercie-wanting sand. Or sea-mans swallowing gulfe drunke Hecates, And like Vlisses to his dearest land, I scour'd the Scillaes and Simphlegades, Ariuing at my wisht-for hauen Doner, And thorow Kent to Cowling I came ouer. Ship, slice the sea, and be thou deifi'd. Shine brightest on this starre-bestudded vaile, In heauen more worthy to be stellifi'd. Than that wherein the Argonautes did saile : Let frothie wanes die o're thy pitchie blacke. And in Elisiuras deepe last suffer wracke. But home, no harbour was for mine estate ; I'm still pursu'd so with mine enemies, E're thrise the sun did ope his Eastern gate, I with my houshould were constrain'd to flee Tost long vpon the Bishops Sea, at last Neere to saint Albones we our anchor cast. 2 g2 228 The life and death But by misfortune t'was the Abbots land, Whereas we lay ; so by his priuie spies, The fat-baekt tumbrell soone did vnderstand. And vnawares asleepe did vs surprise, Three of my men he tooke, my bookes, my wife, Onely with one I fled, and sau'd my life. My men to treate the Abbot now begin, My Margarites beauty, streaming on his face, Eairenesse no fauour in his sight would win. Their wordes no pittie moue, their lookes no grace Then she gan speake, but spake vnto the wind, Remorse did neuer lodge in clownish mind. Dumb stoode my doue, and wrung her hands, whilst often Low kneeling downe, teares from her eies did shower : Hard is that hart which beauty cannot soften, Yet mourning beautie had on him no power : Although her teares were like his christall beads. Which melted, wash the place whereon he treades. Stil she intreates, and still the pearles round Stil through her eies, and wel vpon her face, Such hony drops on roses I haue found. When bright Apollo held the morne in chace : But both the charmes of teares and sugred words Eor their release no aide at all afordes. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight. 229 Thus [kneeld], thus prai'd, thus wept my beuteous Queene, T[o see my loving] mens imprisonment : [Thus wisht shee] rather that they might haue seene Her dying day, or endlesse banishment : And in remembrance I was mist among, Her weakned sorrowes therby grew more strong. But now the limbecke of her blood-shot eies, Burnt vp with sighs, their springing teares haue staid, No hope of life in her the Abbot sees ; So backe to Cowling safe she was conuaid : She drowps, she faints, she swownds, she comfort I was her comfort, comfortlesse she dieth. [flieth. I trauel still, like to the wandering knight For ladies loue, on strange aduentures bownd. As counceller, I made the tonglesse night Of my distresse, which aU in silence drown'd. Least to the world, day should my griefe discouer, I striue, vntill hart, eies, sighs, teares, ran ouer. Through many bywaies, many countries fl.e[d,J In midst of Cheshire now I am on a riuer, By more crookt winding which her curr[ent led,] Then I had gone by-wayes ; her name the ■W[eev]er : On whose prowde banke such entertaine I had. As longer, if I might, I would haue staid. [The passages within brackets are illegible in the book from which this edition is printed, and they have been supplied from another source. J 230 Tlie life and death Still doe I wander by the banks of Weeuer, With gorgeous buildings stately ritch adorned : Buildings the banks, and banks outbraue the Eiuer ; Shee swels o're banks and buildings, them shee scorned, Limits there be for euery thing beside, No banks can limit in the sea of pride. Her tumbling streame my guide was to vaile roiall, Through all the Wyches vnto Ashtons chappell, Frodsham, Rockesauage, Thus I had a triall, How she vnloaded all her rolling Channell : With neare embracements Weeuer Mersey met, And both together th'Irish Seas they gret. I wUl but wade neare to this Riuers brink. And of her deepnesse make this shallow boast : Her cooling water those dry countries drink : So shee makes fruitfull all the western coast ; That no lesse famous, no lesse faire a riuer, Then the jB.ft Auon, or third Ouze, is Weeuer. To Lancashire from hence my journey lies. Where plentie dwels, where pleasantnesse of Aire Breathes forth like baulme from rose-strawne Paradies, At the first blushing of the morning faire : Where beutie, vertue, loue, wit, and the Graces, Sit all in triumph on the weemens faces. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight 231 I doe salute this climate in my way, On whicii the heauens such fauours did bestow : But t'was too hote for me therein to stay, Except I would myselfe a Papist show : So there, through many paines and perils past, I'm safe returned back to Wales at last. Here Cobham Hues, oh doe not say he Hues, But dying Hues, or lining howerly dies ; A Huing death exilement alwaies giues, A banisht man still on his death bed lies. Mine high estate is low misfortunes graue. My power restrain'd is now a glorious slaue. What in exilement to my sect befell, Daigne to vnfould mellifluous Mercuric : Nay stay, why shouldst thou to the world teU That with thy tong all eies abhord to see : Yet greefe kept in oftimes doth grow more fell, For riuers damm'd aboue the bank doe swell. This Act proclaim'd and disanuld in many. Twice twentie hundred soules were martyred : Out of the land to Spaine, and Germanie, Bohemia, Praunce, and Scotland, others fled : Who would not flie, what patient man can bide. In Clergie men ambitious hautie pride ? 232 The life and death Sir Roger Acton, Browne, and Beuerley, Knight, Squire, and Preaclier, valorous, vertuous, good: In Christenmas vpon Saint Thomas day. Gainst certain Priests vpon a quarrell stood : Por which so hainous and inhumane wrong, They were attacht, and into prison flong. Now was the month which lanus hath to name, Of old new christened by Pompilius ; And wondrous proud that he had got such fame ; Added feeld-purging Februarius : lanus bifronted, one which bids adew Vnto the old yeare, entertaines the new. When Roger Acton, Beuerley, and Browne, Of Heresie conuicted by the Act : To Tbicket feelds vpon an hurdle drawne. Were hang'd, and burn'd ( O more then monstrous fact :) And through the Realme all Artists it would cumber, By that sore Act the martyres all to number. Some two yeares after was a mutinie. An vproare, tumult, or rebellion, In Saint Gyles feelds ; the which conspiracie Acton and I, some doe afl&rme begone ; But the Kings power not able to with-stand. We fled, were taken, burned out of hand. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 233 Which time tree-garnisht Camhriaes loftie mountaines Did ouer-shade me with their beetle browes, And by Elysiums Nectar-spouting fountaines Acton did march in Saint-triumphing showes : Prom Wales returne I could not then to fight, Erom Heauen Acton would not if he might. Twice told, two twelue months now the bowers haue Their morning slumbers on the Sun to tend, [broke, And bring his horses to the charriots yoke : Mark now the period of my dolefuU end : The Clergies mallice (not ore-blowne) will haue me, Though heauen and earth & all had sworn to saue [me. With lordlie gifts and kinglie promises They fed Lord Powis (gouernour in Wales,) He came to me pretending holinesse ; To true Religion for a time he falls : And last, his ludas kindnes did bewray me. Seeking all meanes how that he might betray me. Powis his promise faine would haue forsaken. Before the meanes for my attach he wrought : I was not one so easie to be taken, With his owne blood his bribes he dearlie bought : But I not able to withstand his strength, (Not Hercules gainst two) was tooke at length. 2h 234 The life and death lu greatest greefe this one thing made me glad, (Though hard tis fasten mirth with miserie,) That in mine absence Arundell was dread, Which was resolu'd before, my death to see : But seld comes better, he, though void of grace, Yet was a man, the Deuill came in his place. Thus ill at worst doth alway gin to mend, And by example good doth often gaine : That by degrees so rising in the end. To perfect goodnesse it returnes againe : So since his time they haue so risen still, Thriuing in good, as they decaid in ill. Now goodnesse raised to her highest pitch, In snow-white robes is sent vs for a gift : The radiant splendour of this Empire ritch, Whose shining lustre heauens doth enlight : O that I could a spirit in thee breathe. Whose life preserues diuinitie from death. By Chichley Archbishop of Canterburie, And Bedford Prorex (oh the King was absent :) Of Treason I'm condemn'd and Heresie ; A double crime, a double punishment : My iudgement giuen ; of death, the day and hower Appointed ; I am sent back to the Tower. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight 235 Death, the pale daughter of black Erebus, What fashion to appeare in doth not know : But counoell takes of Nox and Morpheus, What forme most terrour and amaze will show : Hell, Sleepe, Night, Death, are troubled to deuise, What new found shape might please these tyrants [eies. Two fyrie coursers foming clottred blood, Whurries ; at last. Death bound in iron chaines ; Whil'st goblings (gaping like a whirle.poole) wood. Doe lash their goarie sides, with steeled yaines : Blood and reuenge by in a chariot ride. Millions of furies scudding by their side. Which all at once doe vomit Sulphure flakes. Throw scorching brands, which wrapt in brimston, choke The trembling Audience ; that aflFrighted quakes. To vew the Sun eclipst with steaming smoke : To heare deuils, ghosts, and feends howle, roare, & Pilling the earth, as though they empted heU. [yell, To Thickets feeld thus was Oldcastle hurried, The gaUowes built of purpose wondrous hie : Neare to the top of which (as one lies buried) In three cold chaines mine aged corps doe lie : The faggots fyr'd, with me the gallows burne, I call on God, and to the fyre I turne. 2h2 236 The life and death The Prelates curse, alowd the people crie. One would rebell, another him aswageth, One sighs, to vew anothers blubred eie, One murmuring railes, another inlie rageth, All weep, some howle, some faint, some swound, Deaj&ng the heauens, darkening the skie. [some die. The bundels cracke ; with that the mourning Aire Comes whisking round to coole the raging flame, When he perceiues his breathes but beUowes are, Rather to kindle than to coole the same : He turnes himselfe to water, and he raines To quench the fyre, and ease me of my paines. The fyre, red-blushing of his fact ashamed, Clad him in smoke, the smoke to Aire he turned. That aire to water, water earth receiued. Earth, like the fyre to melt to water, burned : Earth, Water, Aire, Eyre, symboliz'd in one. To quench, or coole, Oldcastl's Martyrdome. But now I gaspe, I fry, I drop, I fall, My Chaines doe yeeld, Spectators stand agast. To make the which abhorred more of all, My Bootes and Spurs must in the fyre be cast. O death ! strange death ! which to describe at large Would aske sweet Ouids wit, and Nestors age. of Sir lohn Oldcastle, knight. 237 If wits pearle- dropping Opobalsamum, In Amber-streaming Eloquence were drie ; Vnto my bleached cindars she might come, And take a fluent Helicon supplie : Mine Ashes bath'd in th'vnguent of her eies, A siluer-fethered Phoenix would aripe. Ah no ! my bodies snow-white burned ashes, (Those harmlesse reliques) cast were in the riuer, Whose salt-fresh-meeting waues betwixt them washes, Like Lethe, my remembrance not to Hue here : My vertues fame is like my bodies death, Kindled with a blast, and burnt out with a breath. And in this idle age who's once forgotten, Obliuion dims the brightnesseof his glory : Enuie is ripe before his bones be rotten. And ouerthrowes the truth of vertues story : Despoil's his name, •and robs him of his merits Eor naught but fame man after death inherits. Nor can my soule within the sable night, When all (but louers) welcome carelesse rest : Like to some subtle shade, or wandring spright. With goarie sides, and deeper lanched brest ; Holding in tho'ne hand wildfyre, in the other A torch, to stifle th'aire with pitchie smother. 238 The life and death With deep sunke eyes, lanke cheeks, and pallide hew, Dismembred armes, sharpe visage, douhtfull sight. Enter some watchful! Poets secret mew, "His heauenly thoughts, and quiet studies fright ; With hollow voice : commaunding him set forth Immortall verse for my entomblesse worth. Then should the world on brasen pillers view me. With great Achilles, in the house of Fame ; His Tutor'd pen with Tropheis would renew me. And still repaire the ruin of my name : But I'm inuirond with the EKsian feelds. Which for departed soules no passage yeelds. But Wickleues soule now beares me company. And lerome Prages, within the highest heauen, (These were my comfort in calamitie) Whose ioyes (Rome sayes) her curses hath bereauen ; Thus (if they could) they would denie vs t'haue, In heauen our soules, as in the earth our graue. lewes burie him which railes on Moses lawes, Turkes him which worships not their Alkaron, Tartarians him which Cham no reuerence shawes, The Persians him which worships not the sun ; More rigorous cruell then this Romish crew Then Persian, Turke, Tartarian, or lew. of Sir John Oldcastle, knight. 239 Their dead in banquets ScitMans deuoure, Their dead with dogs Hircanians do eate, Phagi with fish ; with foule th'Assirian poure, The Troglodites to wormes are giuen for meate : More heath'nish papists, they deny me t'haue, In beast, fish, foule, in man, or worme, my graue. Becket was wounded in his priests apparrell. In Eomes defence ; his death was glorious ; I burnt, vnburied, drown d for Christs owne quarrell, My death to most was ignominious ; He praisd, adornd, and for a martyr sainted, Whilst I (Homes scofi"e) my rites of buriall wanted. For Beckets sake erected was a tombe, Like an Egiptian high Pyramides, Millions of b?ire-foote pilgrims yeerely come, With tapers burning to his holynes. Till Henry th'eight, by Cromwells good procurement, Cast downe this mocke-ape toy, this vaine alure- ment. The glorious beutie of this brightest shrine, The treasorie of euer-springing gold : Becket is set ; now doth Oldcastle shine : Him for a Saint within your Kalends hold. Thus fooles admire what wisest men despise th, Thus fond affects doe fall, when vertue riseth. 240 The life and death of Sir lohn Oldcastle. Wit, spend tky vigour, Poets, wits quintessence, Hermes, make great the worlds eies with teares : Actors make sighes a burden for each sentence : That he may sob which reades,he swound which heares. Mean time, till life in death you doe renew, Wit, Poets, Hermes, Actors, all adew. riNis. ^