Scillaes Metamorphosis: Enterlaced with the vnfortunate loue of Glaucus. VVhereunto is annexed the delectable discourse of the discontented Satyre: with sundrie other most absolute Poems and Sonnets. Contayning the detestable tyrannie of Dis­daine, and Comicall triumph of Constan­cie: Verie fit for young Courtiers to peruse, and coy Dames to remember.

By Thomas Lodge of Lincolnes Inne, Gentleman.

O vita! misero longa, foelici breuis.

Imprinted at London by Richard Ihones, and are to be sold at his shop neere Holburne bridge, at the signe of the Rose and Crowne. 1589.

TO HIS ESPECIALL good friend Master Raph Crane, and the rest of his most entire wellwil­lers, the Gentlemen of the Innes of Court and Chauncerie. Tho­mas Lodge of Lincolnes Inne Gent. Wisheth increase of worship and continu­ance in vertue.

SVVeete Master Crane, I had not thought at this instant to haue partaked my passions with the print, whose discon­tented thoughts so long in­ured to obscuritie, were diuorsed many yeares since, from vaine glories inordinate follie: but the base necessities of an extraua­gant melancholie mate, that had no other vnde of quod ad victum attinet, but the fore­stalling of other mens inuentions, made my vnperfit Poems (in spite of waste paper) to hazard an apprenteship in Poules: so that, that which in the first peeping foorth was [Page] wholie predestinate to your friendship, by an vnderhand marte, is made the mercina­rie recreation of euerie ridiculous mate. Our wits now a daies are waxt verie fruite­full, and our Pamphleters more than prodi­gall; So that the postes which stoode naked a tedious non terminus, doo vaunt their dou­ble apparrell as soone as euer the Exche­quer openeth; and euerie corner is tooke vp with some or other penilesse companion that will imitate any estate for a two pennie almes. I could afford you whole seruices of absurdities, that would disquiet the disgesti­on of Arte vs (que) ad nausaeam, were it not that I pittie to particularize simple fellowes im­perfections, and am altogether loath to ad­uenture my paines in so vngratefull a Pro­uince. For transformed Scilla how euer she hapned now to bee disioyned from disdain­full Charybdis; thinke not, but if they haue good shipping they wil meete ere long both in one shop: and landed they had at this in­stant, in one and the selfe same bay, if Scilla (the vnfortunater of the two) had not met with a needie pirate by the way. Ariued shee [Page] is, though in a contrary coast, but so wrackt, and weather beaten, through the vnskilful­nes of rough writers, that made their poast haste passage by night, as Glaucus would scarce know her, if he met her: yet my hope is Gentlemen, that you wil not so much ima­gine what she is, as what shee was; insomuch as from the shop of the Painter, shee is falne into the hands of the stainer. Thus referring the supportāce of my credit, & the inability of my verse to your ingenious opinions, I bid you farewel til the next Tearm; at vvhich time I hope to entertaine your seuerall de­lights, vvith farre better discourses, and bee suppliant to my good friend Master Crane, in some or other more acceptable Poem. In the meane time let my appliable voluisse, intitle me to your curtesie: vvhose I am during Iife in all enterchangeable dutie.

Your friend assured Thomas Lodge.

The most pithie and pleasant Historie of Glaucus and Silla.

WAlking alone (all onely full of griefe)
Within a thicket nere to Isis floud,
Weeping my wants, and wailing scant reliefe,
Wringing mine armes (as one with sorrowe wood);
The piteous streames relenting at my mone
Withdrew their tides, and staid to heare me grone.
From foorth the channell, with a sorrowing crie
The Sea-god Glaucus (with his hallowed heares
Wet in the teares of his sad mothers dye)
With piteous lookes before my face appeares;
For whome the Nimphes a mossie coate did frame.
Embroadered with his Sillas heauenly name.
And as I sat vnder a Willow trée,
The louelie honour of faire Thetis bower;
Reposd his head vpon my faintfull knée:
And when my teares had ceast their stormie shower
He dried my chéekes, and then bespake him so,
As when he waild I straight forgot my woe.
Infortunate, why wandreth thy content
From forth his scope as wearied of it selfe;
Thy bookes haue schoold thée from this fond repent,
And thou canst talke by proofe of wauering pelfe:
Unto the world such is inconstancie,
As sapp to trée, as apple to the eye.
Marke how the morne in roseat colour shines,
And straight with cloudes the Sunnie tract is clad;
Then see how pomp through waxe and waine declines,
From high to lowe, from better to the bad:
Take moist from Sea, take colour from his kinde,
Before the world deuoid of change thou finde.
[Page]With secret eye looke on the earth a while,
Regard the changes Nature forceth there;
Behold the heauens, whose course all sence beguile;
Respect thy selfe, and thou shalt find it cléere,
That infantlike thou art become a youth,
And youth forespent a wretched age ensu'th.
In searching then the schoolemens cunning noates,
Of heauen, of earth, of flowers, of springing trees,
Of hearbs, of mettall, and of Thetis floates,
Of lawes and nurture kept among the Bées:
Conclude and knowe times change by course of fate,
Then mourne no more, but moane my haples state.
Here gan he pause and shake his heauie head,
And fould his armes, and then vnfould them straight;
Faine would he speake, but tongue was charm'd by dread,
Whil'st I that sawe what woes did him awaight,
Comparing his mishaps and moane with mine,
Gan smile for ioy and drie his drooping eyne.
But (loe) a wonder; from the channels glide
A sweet melodious noyse of musicke rose,
That made the streame to dance a pleasant tide,
The weedes and sallowes néere the bancke that groes
Gan sing, as when the calmest windes accorde
To greete with balmie breath the fleeting forde.
Upon the siluer bosome of the streame
First gan faire Themis shake her amber locks,
Whom all the Nimphs that waight on Neptunes realme
Attended from the hollowe of the rocks.
In briefe, while these rare parragons assemble,
The watrie world to touch their teates doo tremble.
Footing it featlie on the grassie ground,
These Damsels circling with their brightsome faires
The loue-sicke God and I, about vs wound
Like starres that Ariadnes crowne repaires:
Who once hath seene or pride of morne, or day,
Would deeme all pompe within their cheekes did play.
[Page] Nais faire Nimph with Bacchus iuorie touch,
Gan tune a passion with such sweete reports,
And euerie word, noate, sigh, and pause was such,
And euerie Cadence fed with such consorts,
As were the Delian Harper bent to heare,
Her statelie straines might tempt his curious eare.
Of loue (God wot) the louelie Nimph complained:
But so of loue as forced loue to loue her;
And euen in loue such furious loue remained,
As searching out his powrefull shaft to proue her,
He found his quiuer emptied of the best,
And felt the arrowe sticking in his breast.
Under a Popler Themis did repose her,
And from a brier a sweetfull branch did plucke:
When midst the brier ere she could scarce suppose her
A Nightingale gan sing: but woe the lucke;
The branch so néere her breast, while she did quicke her
To turne her head, on sodaine gan to pricke her.
Whil'st smiling Clore midst her enuious blushes,
Gan blame her feare and pretilie said thus;
Worse prickes than these are found among these bushes,
And yet such prickes are scarcelie feard of vs.
Nay soft (said Chelis) prickes doo make birds sing,
But prickes in Ladies bosomes often sting.
Thus iest they on the Nightingales report,
And on the prickle of the Eglantine
On Nais song, and all the whole consort
In publique this sweete sentence did assigne;
That while some smile, some sigh through change of time;
Some smart, some sport amidst their youthlie prime.
Such wreathes as bound the Thebans iuorie brow;
Such gay trickt garlands pleit these iollie Dames;
The flowres themselues when as the Nimphes gan bowe,
Gan vaile their crestes in honour of their names:
And smilde their sweete and woed with so much glée,
As if they said, sweet Nimph come gather mée.
[Page]But penciue Glaucus passionate with painings,
Amidst their reuell thus began his ruth;
Nimphes, flie these Groues late blasted with my plainings,
For cruell Silla nill regard my truth:
And leaue vs two consorted in our gronings,
To register with teares our bitter monings.
The flouds doo faile their course to see our crosse,
The fields forsake their gréene to heare our griefe,
The rockes will wéepe whole springs to marke our losse,
The hills relent to store our scant reliefe,
The aire repines, the penciue birds are heauie,
The trees to see vs paind no more are leauie.
Ay me, the Shepheards let their flockes want feeding,
And flockes to see their palie face are sorie,
The Nimphes to spie the flockes and shepheards needing
Prepare their teares to heare our tragicke storie:
Whilst we surprisde with griefe cannot disclose them,
With sighing wish the world for to suppose them.
He that hath seene the sweete Arcadian boy
Wiping the purple from his forced wound,
His pretie teares betokening his annoy,
His sighes, his cries, his falling on the ground,
The Ecchoes ringing from the rockes his fall,
The trees with teares reporting of his thrall:
And Venus starting at her loue-mates crie,
Forcing hir birds to hast her chariot on;
And full of griefe at last with piteous eie
Seene where all pale with death he lay alone,
Whose beautie quaild, as wont the Lillies droop
When wastfull winter windes doo make them stoop:
Her daintie hand addrest to dawe her deere,
Her rose all lip alied to his pale cheeke,
Her sighes, and then her lookes and heauie cheere,
Her bitter threates, and then her passions meeke;
How on his senseles corpes she lay a crying,
As if the boy were then but new a dying.
[Page]He that hath vewd Angelica the faire
Bestraught with fancie nere the Caspian springs:
Renting the tresses of her golden haire,
How on her harpe with pitious notes she sings
Of Rolands ruth, of Medors false depart,
Sighing each rest from center of her heart.
How now she writes vpon a beechen bow
Her Medors name, and bedlam like againe
Calls all the heauen to witnes of his vow,
And straight againe begins a mournefull straine,
And how in thought of her true faith forsooken
He fled her bowres, and how his league was broken.
Aye me who markes her harpe hang vp againe
Upon the willowes watered with her teares,
And how she rues to read her Rolands paine,
When but the shadowe of his name appeares;
Would make more plainings from his eyes to flee
Than teares distill from amber weeping trée.
He that hath knowne the passionate mishappes
That nere Olimpus faire Lucina felt
When as her Latium loue her fancie trappes,
How with suspect her inward soule dooth melt:
Or markt the Morne her Cephalus complaining,
May then recount the course of all our paining.
But tender Nimphes to you belongs no teene;
Then fauor me in flying from this bower
Whereas but care and thought of crosses been,
Leaue me that loose my selfe through fancies power,
Through fancies power which had I leaue to loose it,
No fancie then should fee me for to choose it.
When you are fled the Heauen shall lowre for sorrowe,
The day orecast shalbe bedtime with sable,
The aire from Sea such streaming showres shall borrow
As earth to beare the brunt shall not be able,
And shippes shall safely saile whereas beforne
The ploughman watcht the reaping of his corne.
[Page]Goe you in peace to Neptunes watrie sound,
No more may Glaucus play him with so prettie;
But shun resort where solace nill be found,
And plaine my Scillaes pride and want of pittie:
Alas swéet Nimphs my Godhead's all in vaine,
For why this brest includes immortall paine.
Scilla hath eyes, but too swéete eyes hath Scilla;
Scilla hath hands, faire hands but coy in touching;
Scilla in wit surpasseth graue Sibilla,
Scilla hath words, but words well storde with grutching;
Scilla a Saint in looke, no Saint in scorning:
Looke Saint-like Scilla, least I die with mourning.
Alas why talke I? Sea-god cease to mourne her,
For in her nay my ioyes are euer ceasing:
Cease life or loue, then shall I neuer blame her;
But neither loue nor life may finde decreasing.
A mortall wound is my immortall being,
Which passeth thought, or eyes aduised séeing.
Herewith his faltring tongue by sighs oppressed
Forsooke his office, and his bloud resorted
To féede the heart that wholly was distressed,
Whilst pale (like Pallas flowre) my knée supported
His féeble head and arme, so full of anguish,
That they which sawe his sorrowes gan to languish.
Themis the coyest of this beauteous traine
On hillie toppes the wonderous Moly found,
Which dipt in balmie deaw she gan to straine,
And brought her present to recure his wound:
Clore she gathered Amaranthus flower,
And Nais Aiax blossom in that stowre.
Some chafe his temples with their louelie hands,
Some sprinkle water on his pale wan cheekes,
Some wéepe, some wake, some curse affections bandes;
To sée so young, so faire, become so weake:
But not their pitious hearbs, or springs haue working,
To ease that heart where wanton loue is lurking.
[Page]Naithles though loath to shewe his holy kindnes
On euerie one he spent a looke for fauour,
And prayed their pardon vouching Cupids blindnes,
(Oh fancies fond that naught but sorrowes sauour);
To see a louely God leaue Sea Nimphes so:
Who cannot doome vpon his deadly woe?
Themis that knewe, that waters long restrained
Breake foorth with greater billowes than the brookes
That swetely float through meades with flowres distained,
With cheerefull laies did raise his heauie lookes;
And bad him speake and tell what him agreeu'd:
For griefes disclos'd (said she) are soone releeu'd.
And as she wisht so all the rest did woe him;
By whose incessant suites at last inuited,
He thus discouered that which did vndoo him,
And orderlie his hideous harmes recited,
When first which fingers wagge he gan to still them,
And thus with drierie tearmes of loue did fill them.
Ah Nimphes (quoth he) had I by reason learnt
That secret art which birdes haue gaind by sence,
By due foresight misfortune to preuent;
Or could my wit controule mine eyes offence:
You then should smile and I should tell such stories,
As woods, and waues should triumph in our glories.
But Nereus daughters, Sea-borne Saints attend,
Lake breeding Géese when from the Easterne clime
They list vnto the westerne waters wend
To choose their place of rest by course of time,
Approaching Taurus haughtie topped hill
They charme their cackle by this wondrous skill.
The climing mountaine neighbouring ayre welnie,
Hath harbored in his rockes and desart haunts
Whole airies of Eagles prest to flie
That gazing on the Sonne their birth right vaunts,
Which birds of Ioue with deadlie fewde pursue
The wandering Geese, when so they presse in vewe.
[Page]These fearefull flitting troopes by nature tought,
Passing these dangerous places of pursuit:
When all the desart vales they through haue sought,
With pibbles stop their beakes to make them mute,
And by this meanes their dangerous deathes preuent
And gaine their wished waters of frequent.
But I fond God (I God complaine thy follie)
Let birds by sense exceede my reason farre:
Whilom than I who was more strong and iollie
Who more contemnd affections wanton warre?
Who lesse than I lou'd lustfull Cupids arrowes?
Who now with curse & plagues poore Glaucus harrowes.
How haue I leapt to heare the Tritons play
A harsh retreat vnto the swelling flouds?
How haue I kept the Dolphins at a bay,
When as I ment to charme their wanton moods?
How haue the angrie windes growne calme for loue,
When as these fingers did my harpe strings moue?
Was any Nimph, you Nimphes was euer any
That tangled not her fingers in my tresse?
Some well I wot and of that some full many
Wisht or my faire, or their desire were lesse
Euen Ariadne gazing from the skie
Became enamorde of poore Glaucus eye.
Amidst this pride of youth and beauties treasure
It was my chaunce, you floods can tell my chancing,
Fléeting along Sicillian bounds for pleasure,
To spie a Nimph of such a radiant glancing,
As when I lookt, a beame of subtill firing
From eye to heart incenst a deepe desiring.
Ah had the vaile of reason clad mine eye,
This foe of fréedome had not burnt my heart:
But birds are blest, and most accurst am I
Who must reporte her glories to my smart,
The Nimph I sawe and lou'de her, all to cruell
Scilla, faire Scilla, my fond fancies iuell.
[Page]Her haire not trust, but scatterd on her brow,
Surpassing Hiblas honnie for the view,
Or softned golden wires; I know not how
Loue with a radiant beautie did pursue
My too iudiciall eyes, in darting fire
That kindled straight in me my fond desire.
Within these snares first was my heart intrapped,
Till through those golden shrowdes mine eies did see
An yuorie shadowed front, wherein was wrapped
Those pretie bowres where Graces couched be:
Next which her cheekes appeerd like crimson silk,
Or ruddie rose vespred on whitest milk.
Twixt which the nose in louely tenor bends,
(Too traitrous pretie for a Louers view:)
Next which her lips like violets commends
By true proportion that which dooth insue;
Which when they smile, present vnto the eies
The Oceans pride and yuorie paradice.
Her pollisht necke of milke white snowes doth shine,
As when the Moone in Winter night beholdes them:
Her breast of alablaster cleere and fine,
Whereon two rising apples faire vnfolds them
Like Cinthias face when in her full she shineth,
And blushing to her Loue-mates bower declineth
From whence in length her armes doo sweetly spred
Like two rare branchie saples in the Spring,
Yeelding fiue louely sprigs from euerie head,
Proportioned alike in euerie thing;
Which featly sprout in length like springborne frends,
Whose pretie tops with fiue sweet roses ends.
But why alas should I that Marble hide
That doth adorne the one and other flanke,
From whence a mount of quickned snow doth glide;
Or els the vale that bounds this milkwhite banke,
Where Venus and her sisters hide the fount,
Whose louely Nectar dooth all sweetes surmount.
[Page]Confounded with descriptions, I must leaue them;
Louers must thinke, and Poets must report them:
For silly wits may neuer well conceaue them,
Unlesse a speciall grace from heauen consort them.
Aies me, these faires attending Scilla won me:
But now (sweet Nimphes) attēd what hath vndon me.
The louely breast where all this beautie rested,
Shrowded within a world of deepe disdaine:
For where I thought my fancie should be feasted
With kinde affect, alas (vnto my paine)
When first I woode the wanton straight was flying,
And gaue repulse before we talkt of trying.
How oft haue I (too often haue I done so)
In silent night when euerie eye was sleeping,
Drawne neere her caue, in hope her loue were won so,
Forcing the neighboring waters through my weeping
To wake the windes, who did afflict her dwelling
Whilst I with teares my passion was a telling.
When midst the Caspian seas the wanton plaid,
I drew whole wreaths of corrall from the rockes:
And in her lap my heauenly presents laid:
But she vnkind rewarded me with mockes,
Such are the fruites that spring from Ladies coying,
Who smile at teares, and are intrapt with toying.
Tongue might grow wearie to report my wooings,
And heart might burst to thinke of her deniall:
May none be blamde but heauen for all these dooings,
That yeeld no helpes in midst of all my triall.
Heart, tongue, thought, pen nil serue me to repent me,
Disdaine her selfe should striue for to lament me.
Wretched Loue let me die, end my loue by my death;
Dead alas still I liue, flie my life, fade my loue.
Out alas loue abides, still I ioy vitall breath:
Death in loue, loue is death, woe is me that doo proue.
Paine and woe, care & griefe euery day about me houers:
Thē but death what can quel al y e plages of haples louers?
[Page]Aies me my moanings are like water drops
That neede an age to pearce her marble heart,
I sow'd true zeale, yet fruiteles were my crops:
I plighted faith, yet falsehoode wrought my smart:
I praisd her lookes, her lookes dispised Glaucus,
Was euer amorous Sea-god scorned thus?
A hundereth swelling tides my mother spent
Upon these lockes, and all hir Nimphes were prest,
To pleit them faire when to her bowre I went:
He that hath séene the wandring Phoebus crest,
Toucht with the Christall of Eurotas spring,
The pride of these my bushie locks might sing.
But short discourse beséemes my bad successe,
Eache office of a louer I performed:
So feruently my passions did her presse,
So swéete my laies, my spéech so well reformed,
That (cruell) when she sawe naught would begile me
With angrie lookes the Nimph did thus exile me.
Packe hence thou fondling to the westerne Seas,
Within some calmy riuer shrowd thy head:
For neuer shall my faire thy loue appease,
Since fancie from this bosome late is fled:
And if thou loue me shewe it in departing:
For why thy presence dooth procure my smarting.
This said with angrie lookes, away she hasted
As fast as flie the flouds before the winds:
When I poore soule with wretched sorrowes wasted,
Exclaimde on loue, which wit and reason blinds:
And banisht from hir bowre with wofull poasting
I bent my selfe to séeke a forreine coasting.
At last in wandring through the greater Seas
It was my chance to passe the noted streights:
And wearied sore in séeking after ease,
Amidst the creekes, and watrie coole receits,
I spied from farre by helpe of sonnie beames
A fruitefull Ile begirt with Ocean streames.
[Page]Westward I fleeted, and with heedfull eie
Beheld the chalkie cliffes that tempt the aire,
Till at the last it was my chance to spie
A pleasant entrance to the flouds repaire;
Through which I prest, and wondring there beheld
On either side a sweete and fruitfull field.
Isis (the Ladie of that louely streame)
Made holiday in view of my resort;
And all the Nimphes of that her watrie realme
Gan trip for ioy, to make me mickle sport:
But I poore soule with no such ioyes contented,
Forsooke their bowers, and secretly lamented.
All solitarie rome I heere about,
Now on the shoare, now in the streame I weepe,
Fire burnes within, and gastly feare without,
No rest, no ease, no hope of any sleepe:
Poore banisht God, heere haue I still remained,
Since time my Scilla hath my sutes disdained.
And heere consort I now with haplesse men,
Yeelding them comfort, (though my wound be curelesse)
Songs of remorse I warble now and then,
Wherein I curse fond Loue and Fortune durelesse,
Wan hope my weale, my trust but bad aduenture,
Circumference is care, my heart the center.
Whilest thus he spake, fierce Ate charmde his tongue,
His senses faild, his armes were folded straight,
And now he sighes, and then his heart is stung;
Againe he speakes gainst fancies fond deceit,
And teares his tresses with his fingers faire,
And rents his roabs, halfe mad with deepe dispaire.
The piteous Nimphes that viewd his heauie plight,
And heard the sequell of his bad successe,
Did loose the springs of their remorsefull sight,
And wept so sore to see his scant redresse:
That of their teares there grew a pretie brooke,
Whose Christall cleares the clowdes of penciue looke.
[Page]Alas woes me, how oft haue I bewept
So faire, so yong, so louely, and so kinde,
And whilst the God vpon my bosome slept,
Behelde the scarres of his afflicted minde,
Imprinted in his yuorie brow by care,
That fruitlesse fancie left vnto his share.
My wandring lines, bewitch not so my sences:
But gentle Muse direct their course aright,
Delayes in tragicke tales procure offences:
Yeeld me such feeling words, that whilst I wright
My working lines may fill mine eyes with languish,
And they to note my mones may melt with anguish.
The wofull Glaucus thus with woes attainted,
The penciue Nimphes agreeud to see his plight,
The flouds and fields with his laments acquainted,
My selfe amazd to see this heauie sight;
On sodaine Thetis with her traine approched,
And grauely thus her amorous sonne reproched.
My sonne (said she) immortall haue I made thee,
Amidst my watrie realmes who may compare
Or match thy might? Why then should care inuade thee,
That art so yong, so louely, fresh and faire.
Alas fond God, it merits great reprouing
In States of worth, to doate on foolish louing.
Come wend with me, and midst thy Fathers bowre
Let vs disport and frolicke for a while
In spite of Loue: although he powte and lowre,
Good exercise will idle lusts beguile:
Let wanton Scilla coy her where she will,
Liue thou my sonne by reasons leuell still.
Thus said the Goddesse: and although her words
Gaue signes of counsaile, pompe and maiestie:
Yet nathelesse her piteous eye affoords
Some pretie witnesse to the standers by,
That in her thoughts (for all her outward show)
She mournd to see her Sonne amated so.
[Page]But (welladay) her words haue little force,
The haples louer worne with working woe,
Upon the ground lay pale as any corse,
And were not teares which from his eyes did flowe,
And sighes that witnesse he enioyd his breath,
They might haue thought him Citizen of death.
Which spectacle of care made Thetis bow,
And call on Glaucus, and command her Sonne
To yéelde her right: and hir aduice allow,
But (woe) the man whome fancie had vndone
Nill marke her rules: nor words, nor wéeping teares
Can fasten counsaile in the louers eares.
The Quéene of Sea, with all hir Nimphes assured
That no perswasion might reléeue his care:
Knéeling adowne, their faltring tongues enured
To tempt faire Venus by their vowed praier:
The course whereof as I could beare in minde
With sorrowing sobbes they vttered in this kinde.
Borne of the Sea, thou Paphian Quéene of loue,
Mistris of swéete conspiring harmonie:
Lady of Cipris, for whose swéete behoue
The Séepeheards praise the youth of Thessallie:
Daughter of Ioue and Sister to the Sonne,
Assist poore Glaucus late by loue vndone.
So maist thou baine thée in Th'arcadian brookes,
And play with Vulcans riuall when thou list,
And calme his iealous anger by thy lookes,
And knit thy temples with a roseat twist
If thou thy selfe and thine almightie Sonne,
Assist poore Glaucus late by loue vndone.
May earth still praise thée for her kinde increase:
And beasts adore thée for their fruitfull wombes,
And fowles with noates thy praises neuer cease,
And Bées admire thée for their honnie combes:
So thou thy selfe and thine almightie Sonne,
Assist poore Glaucus late by loue vndone.
[Page]No sooner from her reuerent lips were past
Those latter lines, but mounting in the East,
Faire Venus in her iuorie coatch did hast,
And toward those penciue dames, her course addrest;
Her doues so plied their wauing wings with flight,
That straight the sacred Goddesse came in sight.
Upon her head she bare that gorgeous Crowne,
Wherein the poore Amyntas is a starre;
Her louely lockes, her bosome hang adowne
(Those netts that first insnar'd the God of warre:)
Delicious louely shine her prettie eies,
And one her chéekes carnatio [...]n cloudes arise,
The stately roab she ware vpon her back
Was lillie white, wherein with cullored silke;
Her Nimphes had blaz'd the yong Adonis wrack,
And Laedas rape by Swan as white as milke,
And on her lap her louely Sonne was plaste,
Whose beautie all his mothers pompe defaste.
A wreath of roses hem'd his Temples in,
His tresse was curlde and cléere as beaten gold;
Haught were his lookes, and louely was his skin,
Each part as pure as Heauens eternall mold,
And on his eies a milke white wreath was spred,
Which longst his backe, with prettie pleits did shed.
Two daintie wings of partie coulored plumes
Adorne his shoulders dallying with the winde;
His left hand wéelds a Toreh, that euer fumes:
And in his right, his bowe that fancies bind,
And on his back his Quiuer hangs well stored
With sundrie shaftes, that sundrie hearts haue gored.
The Deities ariu'd in place desired;
Faire Venus her to Thetis first bespake,
Princesse of Sea (quoth she) as you required
From Ceston which my Sonne, my course I take:
Frollick faire Goddesse, Nimphs forsake your plaining,
My Sonne hath power and fauour yet remaining.
[Page]With that the reuerend powres each other kissed,
And Cupid smil'd vpon the Nimphes for pleasure:
So naught but Glaucus solace there was missed,
Which to effect the Nimphes withouten measure
Intreate the God, who at the last drewe nie
The place, where Glaucus full of care did lie,
And from his bowe a furious dart hee sent
Into that wound which he had made before:
That like Achilles sworde became the teint
To cure the wound that it had caru'd before:
And sodeinly the Sea-god started vp:
Reuiude, relieud, and frée from Fancies cup.
No more of loue, no more of hate he spoke,
No more he forst the sighes from out his breast:
His sodaine ioye his pleasing smiles prouoke,
And all aloft he shakes his bushie creast,
Gréeting the Gods and Goddesses beside,
And euerie Nimph vpon that happie tide.
Cupid and he together hand in hand
Approach the place of this renowned traine:
Ladies (said he) releast from amorous band,
Receiue my prisoner to your grace againe.
Glaucus gaue thankes, when Thetis glad with blisse
Embrast his neck, and his kind chéekes did kisse.
To sée the Nimphes in flockes about him play,
How Nais kempt his head, and washt his browes:
How Thetis checkt him with his welladay,
How Clore told him of his amorous vowes,
How Venus praisd him for his faithfull loue,
Within my heart a sodein ioy did moue.
Whilst in this glée this holy troope delight,
Along the streame a farre faire Scilla floated,
And coilie vaunst hir creast in open sight:
Whose beauties all the tides with wonder noated,
Fore whom Palemon and the Tritons danced
Whilst she hir limmes vpon the cide aduanced.
[Page]Whose swift approach made all the Godheads wonder:
Glaucus gan smile to see his louelie foe,
Rage almost rent poore Thetis heart asonder:
Was neuer happie troope confused so
As were these deities and daintie dames,
When they beheld the cause of Glaucus blames.
Venus commends the carriage of her eye,
Nais vpbraides the dimple in her chinne,
Cupid desires to touch the wantons thie,
Clore she sweares that euerie eie dooth sinne
That likes a Nimph that so contemneth loue,
As no attempts her lawles heart may moue.
Thetis impatient of her wrong sustained,
With enuious teares her roseat cheekes afflicted;
And thus of Scillas former pride complained;
Cupid (said she) sée her that hath inflicted
The deadlie wound that harmde my louelie sonne,
From whome the ofspring of my care begonne.
Oh if there dwell within thy brest my boy
Or grace, or pittie, or remorse (said she)
Now bend thy bowe, abate you wantons ioy,
And let these Nimphes thy rightfull iustice see.
The God soone won, gan shoote, and cleft her heart
With such a shaft as causd her endles smart.
The tender Nimph attainted vnawares,
Fares like the Libian Lionesse that flies
The Hunters Launce that wounds her in his snares;
Now gins shee loue, and straight on Glaucus cries;
Whilst on the shore the goddesses reioyce,
And all the Nimphes afflict the ayre with noyse.
To shoare she flitts, and swift as Affrick wind
Her footing glides vpon the yeelding grasse,
And wounded by affect recure to finde
She sodainely with sighes approcht the place
Where Glaucus sat, and wearie with her harmes
Gan claspe the Sea-god in her amorous armes.
[Page] Glaucus my loue (quoth she) looke on thy louer,
Smile gentle Glaucus on the Nimph that likes thée;
But starke as stone sat he, and list not proue her:
(Ah silly Nimph the selfesame God that strikes thée
With fancies darte, and hath thy fréedome slaine)
Wounds Glaucus with the arrowe of disdaine.
Oh kisse no more kind Nimph he likes no kindnes,
Loue sléepes in him, to flame within thy brest,
Cléer'd are his eies, where thine are clad with blindnes;
Frée'd be his thoughts, where thine must taste vurest:
Yet nill she leaue, for neuer loue will leaue her,
But fruiteles hopes and fatall happes deceaue her.
Lord how her lippes doo dwell vpon his chéekes;
And how she lookes for babies in his eies:
And how she sighes, and sweares shée loues and léekes,
And how she vowes, and he her vowes enuies:
Trust me the enuious Nimphs in looking on,
Were forst with teares for to assist her mone.
How oft with blushes would she plead for grace,
How oft with whisperings would she tempt his eares:
How oft with Christall did she wet his face:
How oft she wipte them with her Amber heares:
So oft me thought, I oft in heart desired
To sée the end whereto disdaine aspired.
Palemon with the Tritons roare for griefe,
To sée the Mistris of their ioyes amated:
But Glaucus scornes the Nimph, that waites reliefe:
And more she loues the more the Sea-god hated,
Such change, such chance, such sutes, such storms beléeue me
Poore silly wretch did hartely agréeue me.
As when the fatall bird of Augurie
Séeing a stormie dismall cloude arise
Within the South, foretells with piteous crie
The wéeping tempest, that on sudden hies:
So she poore soule, in view of his disdaine
Began to descant on her future paine.
[Page]And fixing eye vpon the fatall ground,
Whole hoaūs of flouds drew deaw from out her eyes;
And when through inward griefe the lasse did sound,
The softned grasse like billowes did arise
To woe her brests, and wed her limmes so daintie.
Whom wretched loue had made so weake and faintie,
(Ayes me), me thinks I sée her Thetis fingers
Renting her locks as she were woe begon her;
And now her lippes vpon his lipping lingers:
Oh lingring paine where loue nill list to mone her?
Rue me that writes, for why her ruth deserues it:
Hope needs must faile, where sorrow scarce preserues it.
To make long tale were tedious to the wofull,
Wofull that read what wofull shee approoued:
In briefe her heart with déepe dispaire was so full,
As since she might not win her swéete beloued.
With hideous cries like winde borne backe she fled
Unto the Sea, and toward Sicillia sped.
Swéete Zephirus vpon that fatall bowre
In haples tide midst watrie world was walking;
Whose milder sighes, alas, had little power
To whisper peace amongst the Godheads talking:
Who all in one conclude for to pursue,
The haples Nimph, to sée what would ensue.
Venus her selfe and her faire Sonne gan hie
Within their iuorie Coath drawne forth by doues
After this haples Nimph, their power to trie:
The Nimphes in hope to sée their vowed loues,
Gan cut the watrie boasom of the tide,
As in Cayster Phoebus birds doe glide.
Thetis in pompe vpon a Tritons back
Did poast her straight attended by her traine;
But Glaucus frée from loue by louers wrack,
Séeing me penciue where I did remaine,
Upon a Dolphin horst me (as he was)
Thus on the Ocean hand in hand we passe.
[Page]Our talke midway was nought but still of wonder,
Of change, of chaunce, of sorrow, and her ending;
I wept for want: he said, time bringes men vnder,
And secret want can finde but small befrending.
And as he said, in that before I tried it,
I blamde my wit forewarnd, yet neuer spied it.
What néede I talke the order of my way,
Discourse was steeresman while my barke did saile,
My ship conceit, and fancie was my bay:
If these faile me, then faint my Muse and faile,
Hast brought vs where the haples Nimph soiourned,
Beating the weeping waues that for her mourned.
He that hath séene the Northren blastes dispoile
The pompe of Prime, and with a whistling breath
Blast and dispearse the beauties of the soile;
May thinke vpon her paines more worse than death.
Alas poore Lasse the Ecchoes in the rockes
Of Sicilie, her piteous plaining mockes.
Eccho her selfe when Scilla cried out O loue!
With piteous voice from out her hollow den
Returnd these words, these words of sorrow, ( no loue)
No loue (quoth she) then fie on traiterous men,
Then fie on hope: then fie on hope (quoth Eccho)
To euerie word the Nimph did answere so.
For euery sigh, the Rockes returnes a sigh;
For euerie teare, their fountaines yeelds a drop;
Till we at last the place approached nigh,
And heard the Nimph that fed on sorrowes sop
Make woods, and waues, and rockes, and hills admire
The wonderous force of her vntam'd desire.
Glaucus (quoth she) is faire: whilst Eccho sings
Glaucus is faire: but yet he hateth Scilla
The wretch reportes: and then her armes she wrings
Whilst Eccho tells her this, he hateth Scilla,
No hope (quoth she): no hope (quoth Eccho) then.
Then fie on men: when she said, fie on men.
[Page] Furie and Rage, Wan-hope, Dispaire, and Woe
From Ditis den by Ate sent, drewe nie:
Furie was red, with rage his eyes did gloe,
Whole flakes of fire from foorth his mouth did flie,
His hands and armes ibath'd in blood of those
Whome fortune, sinne, or fate made Countries foes.
Rage, wan and pale vpon a Tiger sat,
Knawing vpon the bones of mangled men;
Naught can he view, but he repinde thereat:
His lockes were Snakes bred foorth in Stigian den,
Next whom, Dispaire that déepe disdained elf
Delightlesse liude, still stabbing of her self.
Woe all in blacke, within her hands did beare
The fatall torches of a Funerall,
Her Chéekes were wet, dispearsed was hir heare,
Her voice was shrill (yet loathsome therewith all):
Wan-hope (poore soule) on broken Ancker sitts,
Wringing his armes as robbed of his witts.
These fiue at once the sorrowing Nimph assaile,
And captiue lead her bound into the rocks,
Where howling still she striues for to preuaile,
With no auaile yet striues she: for hir locks
Are chang'd with wonder into hideous sands,
And hard as flint become her snow-white hands.
The waters howle with fatall tunes about her,
The aire dooth scoule when as she turnes within them,
The winds and waues with puffes and billowes skout her;
Waues storme, aire scoules, both wind & waues begin them
To make the place this mournful Nimph doth wéepe in,
A haples haunt whereas no Nimph may kéepe in.
The Sea-man wandring by that famous Isle,
Shuns all with feare dispairing Scillaes bowre;
Nimphes, Sea-gods, Syrens when they list to smile
Forsake the haunt of Scilla in that stowre:
Ah Nimphes thought I, if euerie coy one felt
The like misshappes, their slintie hearts would melt.
[Page] Thetis reioyst to sée her foe deprest,
Glaucus was glad, since Scilla was enthrald;
The Nimphs gan smile, to boast their Glaucus rest:
Venus and Cupid in their throanes enstald,
At Thetis beck to Neptunes bowre repaire,
Whereas they feast amidst his pallace faire.
Of pure immortall Nectar is their drinke,
And swéete Ambrosia dainties doo repast them,
The Tritons sing, Palemon smiles to thinke
Upon the chance, and all the Nimphs doo hast them
To trick vp mossie garlands where they woon,
For louely Venus and her conquering Sonne.
From foorth the fountaines of his mothers store,
Glaucus let flie a daintie Christall baine
That washt the Nimphs with labour tir'd before:
Cupid hee trips among this louely traine,
Alonely I apart did write this storie
With many a sigh and heart full sad and sorie.
Glaucus when all the Goddesses tooke rest,
Mounted vpon a Dolphin full of glée:
Conueide me friendly from this honored feast,
And by the way, such Sonnets song to me,
That all the Dolphins neighbouring of his glide
Daunst with delight, his reuerend course beside.
At last he left me, where at first he found me,
Willing me let the world and ladies knowe
Of Scillas pride, and then by oath he bound me
To write no more, of that whence shame dooth grow:
Or tie my pen to Pennie-knaues delight,
But liue with fame, and so for fame to wright.
Lenuoy.
LAdies he left me, trust me I missay not,
But so he left me as he wild me tell you:
That Nimphs must yeeld, when faithfull louers straie not.
Least through contempt, almightie loue compell you
With Scilla in the rockes to make your biding
A cursed plague, for womens proud back-sliding.
FINIS.

Glaucus complaint written by the said Gent.

THe Billowes that by windes assisting breath
Dooth beate vpon the rocks at last doo peirce them:
Ah then (thou gentle ofspring of my death)
Why faile my plaints when penciue I rehearse them
To wound thine eares? when as my words excéed them,
And that my sighes in steade of windes doo leade them.
Along the floods I wander all forlorne,
Nor may the Sea-nimphes smiles enforce me play:
But if I think, I think vpon thy scorne,
And if I wish, I wish my dismall day,
Oh fruites of loue, oh powrefull course of paine▪
That one should like the thing that hath him slaine.
Looke in my mothers Christall face, faire maide,
There read the storie of my bitter state;
My teares her siluer floatings haue alaid,
Her troubled lookes foreshowe my wretched fate:
If not for me, yet mourne her bitter wéeping,
And pittie him whose heart is in thy kéeping.
Take pittie Scilla, pittie thou thy louer;
For thou art faire, and beautie should haue pittie,
Ahlas she flies, perswasions cannot moue her,
She is too wanton, or too foolish wittie:
Along the floates the scalie troopes encrease,
Yet nill she loue to maintaine natures peace.
Oh stepdame Nature hast thou shut these faires
Within the rampeir of so déepe disdaine,
To kill a God with sorrowes and dispaires:
Would God thy powre (to lessen all my paine)
Were dead in her; or fancies quenchles fire
Might from my brest with ceaseles course retire.
[Page]But all in vaine (so vaine is loues pursute)
Trie I her eares, and tempt her hardned heart:
Cease wretched tongue, twere better still be mute,
Than tell a tale of griefe and endles smart
To her that grounds her glories on disdaine,
And takes a pride to viewe my bitter paine.
(Fond that I am) all these are faint supposes:
Imperious Loue (to shewe his endles power)
My tender and immortall heart encloses
Within the center of her louely lowre:
That all may sée, Loues prison is her eie,
And Gods must stoope vnto his deitie.
Yet (Loue) allot prescriptions vnto woe;
Els will the sowre excéed the swéete by farre:
Or leuell pittie from thy lawles bowe,
That sorrowe in excesse, may cause a warre
That may consume, if not confound my life;
And I may séeme to die amidst the strife.
The deafe nill heare: both she and Loue together
Haue made a match to aggreuate my griefe:
I sée my hell, there rests no hope in either:
From proud contempt there springeth no reliefe,
What rests there then but since I may not gaine her,
In piteous tearmes and teares for to complaine her.
FINIS.

The Discontented Satyre writ­ten by Thomas Lodge Gent.

SUch time as from her Mothers tender lap
The night arose, guarded with gentle winds:
And with her precious dew refresht the sap
Of bloome and barke (whilst that her mantle blinds
The vaile of heauen) and euery bird was still
Saue Philomele, that did bemoane her ill.
When in the West Orion lift aloft
His starrie crest, and smil'd vpon the Twins;
And Cynthia séemely bright (whose eie full oft
Had watcht her loue) with radient light begins
To pierce the vaile of silence with her beames,
Sporting with wanton cléere on Ocean streames.
When little winds in beating of their wings,
Did wooe the eies to leaue their wonted wake,
And all was husht saue Zephyrus, that sings
With louely breathings for the Sea-nimphs sake:
My watchfull griefes perplext my minde so sore,
That foorth I walkt my sorrowes to deplore.
The doaly season that resembled well
My drooping heart, gaue life to my lament:
Each twinckling lamp that in the heauens did dwell
Gan rest his course to hearken mine entent:
Foorth went I still deuising on my feare
Distinguishing each footestep with a teare.
My working thought deluding of my pace,
At last did bring me to a desart dale,
(By enuious mountaines robd of Phoebus face)
Where growes no hearb to taste of deaws auaile,
In midst thereof, vpon a bed of mosse
A Satyre did his restles bodie tosse.
[Page]Stearne were his lookes, afflicting all the féelds
That were in view; his bushie lockes vndrest
With terror hang, his hauiour horror yéelds,
And with the sight my sorrowes were supprest;
So, néere I drewe, when sodenly he roase,
And thus in tearmes his purpose did disclose.
Blush daies eternall lampe to sée thy lot,
Since that thy cléere with cloudy darkes is scard;
Lowre on faire Cinthia for I like thée not;
For borrowed beauties, merit no regard:
Boast Discontent, naught may depresse thy powre,
Since in thy selfe all griefe thou doost deuoure.
Thou art the God whome I alone adore
Whose powre includeth discords all in one,
Confusions are thy foode and fatall store,
Thy name is feard where thou art most vnknowne;
Thy grace is great, for fortunes laugh and lowre
Assailes them not, that glorie in thy powre.
The minde through thée diuines on endlesse things,
And formes a Heauen through others fond mislikes;
Time loathes thy haunt, yet lends thée many wings:
Refined wits against thy bulwarke strikes;
And when their curious thoughts are ouerpast,
They scorne their bookes, and like thy bent at last.
For who but thou can yéeld them any gaine?
Depriue the world of perfect Discontent;
All glories end, true honor straight is slaine,
And life it selfe in errors course is spent,
All toile dooth sort but to a sorrie end,
For through mislikes, each learnes for to commend.
What made fierce Phillips sonne to manage armes,
To vaile the pride of Persia by his sword,
But thou my God, that he by others harmes
Might raise his seate: and thereby still afford
A cause of discontent to them that lost,
And hate in him that by their powre was crost.
[Page]Let enuie cease, what Prince can make it knowne
How déere he loues his best estéemed friends:
For were not some of purpose ouerthrowne,
Who may discerne whereto true fauor tends:
Thus Princes discontent dooth honor some,
And others through their hates to credit come.
Without thy helpe the Soldier shunnes the féeld:
You studeous Arts how fatall haps had you,
If discontents did not some succors yéeld?
Oh fléeting Fame who could thy grace pursue:
Did not my God send emulations out
To whet the wits and pens of Pallas rout,
How could the Heauens haue retrograde aspects
Without thy helpe? How might the Plannets finde
Their oppositions, and their strange effects,
Unlesse thy powre assisted euerie kinde?
The aire by thée at first inuented voice,
Which once reuerberate, straight yéelds a noice.
The pencile man that with a careles hand
Hath shaddowed Venus, hates his slack regard;
And all amaz'd doth discontented stand,
And mends the same that he before had mard:
Who sées not then that it was Discontent,
That sight to eie, and perfect iudgement lent?
The schooleman that with héedlesse florish writes,
Refines his fault, if thou direct his eie:
And then againe with wonder he endites
Such swéete sententious li [...]es, as neuer die:
Lost in my selfe in praising of thy might,
My spéech yéelds vp his office to delight.
This said he smil'd, and on his restles bed
Reposde and tost his indisposed lims:
A world of thoughts still hammerd in his head,
Now would he sléepe, and straight his couch he trims:
And then he walkes, and therewith sits him downe:
And faines to sing, yet endeth with a frowne.
[Page]I stood amaz'd and wondred at his words,
And sought to suck the soule from out his lips,
His rare discourse such wondrous ioye affords:
But vnawares, like lightfoote Fawne he trips
Along the lawnes: and I with watch forespent,
Drew home and vowde to honor Discontent.
Thomas Lodge.
FINIS.

Sundrie sweete Sonnets written by the said Gent.

In praise of the Countrey life.

MOst happie blest the man that midst his countrie bowers
Without suspect of hate, or dread of enuious tongue
May dwell among his owne: not dreading fortunes lowres,
Farre frō those publique plagues that mightie men hath stoong:
Whose libertie and peace is neuer sold for gaine,
Whose words doo neuer sooth a wanton princes vaine.
Incertaine hopes, and vowes, doo neuer harme his thought,
And vaine desires doo shunne the place of his repose;
He weepes no yeares misspent, nor want of that he sought,
Nor reapes his gaine by words, nor builds vpon suppose:
The stormes of troubled Sea do neuer force his fears,
Nor Trumpets sound dooth chang his sleepes, or charme his ears,
Ambitions neuer build within his constant minde,
A cunning coy deceipt his soule dooth not disguise,
His firme and constant faith corruptions neuer blind,
He neuer waits his weale from princes wondring eyes:
But liuing well content with euerie kinde of thing,
He is his proper court, his fauor, and his King.
[Page]His will (restraind by wit) is neuer forst awrie,
Vaine hopes, and fatall feares (the courtiers common foes)
(Afraid by his foresight) doo shun his piercing eye:
And naught but true delight acquaints him where he goes,
No high attempts to winne; but humble thoughts and deeds,
The verie fruites and flowers that spring from vertues seeds.
(O deities diuine) your Godheads I adore
That haunt the hils, the feelds, the forrests and the springs,
That make my quiet thoughts contented with my store,
And fixe my hopes on heauen, and not on earthly things;
That driue me from desires, (in view of courtly strife,)
And drawe me to commend the fields and countrie life.
My thoughts are now enclosde within my proper land,
And if my bodie sleepe my minde dooth take his rest,
My simple zeale and loue my dangers doo withstand,
The mornings pleasant ayer inuites me from my nest,
If wether wax too warme I seeke the silent shade,
If frosts afflict, I striue for warmth by hunters trade.
Although my biding home be not imbost with gold,
And that with cunning skill my chambers are not drest,
(Whereas the curious eye my sundrie sights behold)
Yet feedes my quiet lookes on thousand flowers at least,
The treasures of the plaine, the beauties of the spring,
Made rich with Roses sweete and euerie pleasant thing.
Amidst the pallace braue puft vp with wanton showes
Ambicions dwell, and there false fauors finde disguise,
There lodge consuming cares that hatch our common woes:
Amidst our painted feelds the pleasant Fayrie lies,
And all those powers diuine that with vntrussed tresses,
Contentment, happie loue, and perfect sport professes.
So liuing, naught remaines my solace to betray;
I heare the pleasant birds record their sacred straines,
When at the mornings rise they blesse the springing day:
The murmuring fountains noise from out the marble vaines,
Are pleasing to mine eares: whilst with a gentill fall
They fleete from hie, and serue to wet the meads withall.
[Page]What sport may equall this, to see two prettie doues
When neb to neb they ioyne, in fluttering of their wings,
And in their roundelaies with kisses seale their loues?
Then wondering at the gifts which happie nature brings;
What sport is it to sleepe and slumber by a well,
Whose fleeting falls maks show, some louely tale to tell?
Oh what content to see amidst the darkesome night
(When as the setting sonne hath left the moone in place)
The Nimphes amidst the vales and groues to take delight,
To dance, to leap, to skip, with sweet and pleasant grace,
To giue greene gownes in sport, and in their tripping make
By force of footing all the springing grasse to quake.
Their daunces brought to end, I lift my lookes one hie
To see the horned moone, and deskant on her hew
Cleere siluer shining bright, and eftsoones then think I
Vpon that hapie chance the Latmian shepheard knew:
Then doo I wish myselfe as faire a friend as she,
But watching I desire she might disport with me.
Thus midst the silent night my selfe I doo content:
Then when as Phoebus beames our Hemisphere enflames,
A thousand change of sports for pleasure I inuent,
And feast my quiet thoughts with sundrie pleasant games,
Now angle I awhile, then seek I for the chace,
And straight my limerods catch the Sparrows on the place.
I like, and make some loue: but yet in such a sort
That naught but true delight my certaine sute pursues;
My libertie remaines, and yet I reape the sport,
Nor can the snares of loue my heedefull thoughts abuse:
But when I would forgoe, I haue the power to flie,
And stand aloofe and laugh, while others starue and die.
My sweete and tender flocks (my faithfull feeld compeers)
You forrests, hoults, and groues, you meads & mountaines hie,
Be you the witnesses of my contented yeares:
And you O sacred powers vouchsafe my humble crie,
And during all my daies, doo not these ioyes estrange;
But let them still remaine, and graunt no other change.
Finis.

In commendation of a solitarie life.

NOt yet forsaken (gentle Muse) draw neere,
And helpe to wearie out these worldly thoughts;
Goe fit thy methode to my moodie cheere,
For why fond pleasure now preuaileth noughts:
Since where content and wealthie state declines,
The heart dooth droope, and dolefull be the lines.
For thy (fond man) why rest I not at last?
My wings of hope are clipte by foule disgrace:
The siluer downe of age now flocketh fast,
Like mosse on oake to dwell vpon my face:
And what with thoght & time, through want & ruth:
I challenge care for ioy, and age for youth.
What fruites of former labours doo I finde?
My studious pen dooth traffique for a scorne:
My due deserts are but repaid with winde;
And what I earne, is nought but bitter mourne:
In which accompt I reap but this aduise,
To cease to clime, and liue contented wise.
But gentle Muse, where boadeth this content?
The Princes Court is fraught with endlesse woes,
Corruptions flocke where honors doo frequent,
The Cities swarme with plagues, with sutes, with foes:
High climing wits doo catch a sodein fall,
With none of these Content list dwell withall.
Ah beautie of the double topped hill,
Thou saddest sister of the sacred nine,
What fruitfull pleasance followeth now my quill?
What wondrous beauties blesse my drooping eine?
Euen such as earst the shepheard in the shade
Beheld, when he a Poet once was made.
Me thinkes I see the deserts fresh arraid,
New mantled in their liueries of greene,
Whose frolicke pride makes smiling heauen apaid▪
Wherein the Nymphs doo wearie out their teene,
Washing their iuorie in those murmuring springs,
At whose kinde fall, the birds with pleasure sings.
[Page]See where the babes of memorie are laid
Vnder the shadow of Apollos tree,
That pleit their garlands fresh, and well apaid,
And breath foorth lines of daintie poecie:
Ah world farewell, the sight hereof dooth tell,
That true content dooth in the desert dwell.
See where a Caue presents it selfe to eie,
By Natures hand enforst in marble vaines;
Where climing Cedars with their shades denie,
The eye of day to see what there remaines:
A couch of mosse, a brooke of siluer cleere,
And more, for foode a flocke of sauage deere.
Then here (kinde Muse) vouchsafe to dwell with me,
My veluet robe shalbe a weede of gray
And least my heart by tongue betrayed be,
For idle talke I will goe fast and pray:
No sooner said and thought, but that my heart
His true supposde content gan thus impart.
Sweete solitarie life thou true repose,
Wherein the wise contemplate heauen aright,
In thee no dread of warre or worldly foes,
In thee no pompe seduceth mortall sight,
In thee no wanton eares to win with words,
Nor lurking toyes, which Citie life affoords.
At peepe of day when in her crimson pride,
The Morne bespreds with roses all the waie
Where Phoebus coach with radiant course must glide,
The Hermit bends his humble knees to pray:
Blessing that God, whose bountie did bestow
Such beauties on the earthly things below.
Whether with solace tripping on the trees
He sees the citizens of Forrest sport,
Or midst the withered oake beholds the Bees
Intend their labour with a kinde consort:
Downe drop his teares, to thinke how they agree,
Where men alone with hate inflamed be.
[Page]Taste he the fruites that spring from Tellus woomb;
Or drinke he of the christall springs that flowes:
He thankes his God, and sighes their cursed doomb
That fondly wealth in surfetting bestowes:
And with Saint Hierom saith, The Desert is
A paradise of solace, ioy, and blis.
Father of light, thou maker of the heauen,
From whom my being well, and being springs:
Bring to effect this my desired steauen,
That I may leaue the thought of worldly things:
Then in my troubles will I blesse the time,
My Muse vouchsafde me such a luckie rime.
T. L.
Finis.

Beauties Lullabie.

‘Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores.’

GEntlemen, I had thought to haue suppressed this Lullabie in silence, amongst my other papers that lie buried in obliuion: but the impu­dent arrogancie of some more then insolent Poets haue altered my purpose in that respect, and made me set my name to my owne worke, least some other vaine glorious Batillus should preiudice my paines, by subscribing his name to that which is none of his owne.

Non mesureè.

Lullabie Beautie, sweet Beautie lullabie;
To such kind of Infants sing lulla would I.
SWeet, sweet desire that made my pleasant wondring eyes
To gaze on such a blazing starre, as dims the state of skies:
Whose feature while my Muse doth now deuise vpon;
Sweet Beautie rest thee still awhile, I shal haue done anon.
First lulla to those lockes deriu'd from Phoebus rayes,
Which fasten light in dimmest lookes by vertue of their sprayes:
From whence her golden wiers Diana borowed then,
When with Arachne at the loombe she stroue amidst the fen.
[Page]Next lulla to the front where onlie shrowdes the die,
Which ruddie Morrow borowed then when Thetis she did spie
To hunt forbidden bed, whereas vermillion hue
Is staind in sight, and euery sense approues my censure true.
Next lulla to those statelie couerts of her eyes,
In which in Alablaster white dame Nature did deuise
A subtil frame of setled wiers, in such confused art:
As those that looke but on that worke amazed doo depart.
Next lulla to those lamps, those twinckling stemmes of state:
Wherof but one, doth dim the Sunne (both) Sunne & Moone do mate,
On which while Ioue doth prie, the ielous Iuno chides.
Thus Gods & men admire at her in whom such beautie bides.
But he that doth but marke those rocks of marble white;
Frō whēce do spring those sweet perfumes the senses that delight,
And sees with how great state the ruddie lippes they shade,
Wil think the workmā more diuine that such a work hath made.
Now see those crimson cheekes, the mounts wherein do dwell
The golden fruit Aeneas fet from midst the mouth of hell,
Bedect with driuen snow, and pounst with Rubie red;
To which compare the ruddie rose, and it wil seeme but dead.
Next praise those cherrie lips where rose and lillie meete,
Enclosures of th'Egiptian gems, frō whence doth Zephir sweet
Breath forth a blast, and yeeld an noyse like to Orpheus lute,
Which mou'd the craggie rocks to ruth, & stird what so was mute.
Yet in that dimpled chinne bedect with euery grace,
Where curious eye may easlie see the beautie of the face.
Admit but this, that Ganimede the cuppe for Ioue did chuse:
And if a man might drink with Gods, would I the same might vse.
Then blessed be those mounts where Venus sits and sings,
With wanton Cupid in her lappe, and from those statelie springs
Drawes Nectar forth to feed her sonne: which tast him so beguild,
That onlie for to sucke those teates, be still would be a child.
But looke a low (my Muse) and fixe thy statelie view:
Behold a path like Dedalls maze, wherein with azure clew
A Theseus may the secret cells of beautie there behold,
More statelie than th' Egiptian tombes, though reared all of gold.
[Page]Next which of Alablaster white a mountaine there doth rise,
A mountaine faire of driuen snowe, wherein incarued lies
A statelie tipe of Venus vale: some calls it Cupids couch;
Whereas the God deuising lies which part were best to touch.
There spies he earths Elizium, where Nature sits and paints
Th'impressions of the sweetest formes her fancie her acquaints:
In which one lulla I would rocke to Beautis grace,
And be a prentise during life to serue her in that place.
Next lulla to those forts whereout doth fancie prie,
As one amaz'd to see the starre is fixt before her eye.
A Crinite Comet crisped faire which on those arches stands
Of Marble white enameled, and closde with azure bands.
But he that sees those knees, whose feature is so faire,
As when they bend, all knees do bend below and midst the aire;
Whose cords by compasse knit, and nerues by Nature set,
Bindes Art apprentise for some yeres the patterne for to get.
Here rests not wonders yet: for why behold a lowe
Two rising siluer coloured clowdes, which like to those doo shewe,
As compast in faire Phoebus then, when in his midday prime
He sported with Cassandra faire, amidst the sommer time.
Now Nature stands amazd her selfe to looke on Beauties feete,
To see those ioynts combinde in one, and fram'd of Amber sweete,
So small a pile so great a waight, like Atlas to vphold
The bodie, as the mightie man to beare the heauens is bold.
But to behold those Gemini, those siluer coloured armes,
Whō natiue bloud with blushing streames in azure cōduits warmes,
Inuite the sence like violets, bepurfurated faire
With Floras lillies▪ lillie white these louelie branches are.
But whilest I gaze a low, and see those palmes of peace,
Wherein the mappe of fortune rests and times discents increase:
From whence the branching fingers spred betipt with iuorie,
The least impression whereof a marble mind might mollifie.
Makes me cōfesse pen may not write, hart think, nor tung vnfold
The least effect in Beautie, where both iuorie, pearle, and gold,
Where purphure, Ebonie, white, and red, al colours stained bee:
And if thou seeke for all these sweetes, then seeke my sweet to see.
Finis.

Sundrie sweete Sonnets written by the same Gent.

1
A Verie Phoenix, in her radiant eies
I leaue mine age, and get my life againe;
True Hesperus, I watch her fall and rise:
And with my teares extinguish all my paine,
My lips for shadowes shield her springing roses,
Mine eies for watchmen guard her while shee sleepeth,
My reasons serue to quite her faint supposes:
Her fancie, mine; my faith her fancie keepeth;
She flowre, I branch; her sweetes my sowres supporteth,
O happie Loue, where such delights consorteth.
Finis.
2
I Vow but with some griefe henceforth to shunne the place,
Where beautie casts her scortching lookes to feed me with dis­grace.
And since I was so fond to build on such a molde,
As euery waue of vaine conceit the substance may vnfolde;
I will repent with teares the errors of my mind,
And leaue to tie my thoghts to like of wanton womankind.
Whose wayward wiles I spie how full of sleights they be,
The heart delights in others choise, the hand yet faunes on me,
And faine she would forsake, yet followes if I shunne,
And with her tung repents the time that ere the fact was done.
And yet she will be thought as constant as the best;
Yet scornes the mā that beareth faith & courage in his crest.
Whom if she list to knowe, his colour sable is;
A mournful colour meete for those whose eyes haue gaz'd amis:
His colour pale for woe, his courage all forlorne;
His hart confirm'd to shun the sex that holds his faith in scorne.
Willing all men to learne, least they be forst to proue,
That women alter with the wind, and haue no hold in loue.
Finis.
3
THe heauens inclinde to change, are passing cleere,
Their showres restraind make billowes of mine eies,
Their windes made calme within my breast appeere,
Which dims the aire with sighs and heauie cries.
My frozen loue hath laid the frost adowne,
These snowes restraind serue to congeale my heart,
This pleasant spring my stormie sorrowes frowne:
Goe lying bookes, cease fooles to boast your art,
And marke the cause: my Mistres smiles and lowres
Makes cleere the heauens, & clowdes my heart with showers.
Finis.
4
I Will become a Hermit now,
and doo my penance straight
For all the errors of mine eyes
with foolish rashnes fild;
My hermitage shall placed be,
where mellancholies waight,
And none but loue alone shall knowe
the bower I meane to build.
My daylie diet shall be care,
made calme by no delight:
My dolefull drinke my drierie teares,
amidst the darkesome place
The fire that burnes my heedles heart
shall stand in stead of light,
And shall consume my wearie life
mine errors to deface.
My gowne shall be of spreding gray
to clad my limmes withall:
My late repent vpon my browe
shall plainlie written be.
My tedious griefe and great remorse
that doth my soule enthrall,
Shall serue to plead my wearie paines
[Page]and pensiue miserie.
Of faintfull hope shall be my staffe,
and daylie when I pray,
My mistris picture plac't by loue
shall witnes what I say.
Finis.
5
IF that I seeke the shade, I sodeinlie doo see
The God of Loue forsake his bow, and sit me by:
If that I thinke to write, his Muses pliant be:
If that I plaine my griefe, the wanton boy will crie.
If I lament my cares, he dooth increase my paine:
If teares my cheeks attaint, his cheeks be moyst with mone:
If I disclose the wounds the which my heart hath slaine,
He takes his Fascia off, and wipes them drie anone.
If that I walke the woods, the woods are his delight:
If I my selfe torment, he bathes him in my blood:
He will my Souldier be if once I wend to fight:
If seas delight, he steeres my barke amid the floud:
In briefe, the cruell God dooth neuer from me goe,
But makes my lasting loue eternall by my woe.
Finis.
6
WEarie am I to wearie Gods and men,
Wearie am I to weep so manie teares without some succor:
Wearie am I my wretched state to ken,
Wearie am I to see my wofull yeares consume with dolor.
These mounts, these fields, these rocks, these waues, these woods
Resigne their ecchoes to my wofull cries, too much disdained:
These lambes, these kidds, these bullockes, leaue their foods,
These flowers, this grasse, with mourning parched lies to see me pained.
Naught vnder Sunne that hath not tasted change,
[Page]My bitter griefe alone abideth still without departure.
Accurst be Loue, that wrought this wonder strange,
Boading my sorowes by my wanton will that causde my smarting.
O quiet life fore past, why hast thou left
The wofull shepheard wearie of his paine to feed on sorrow?
Oh weeping eies of wonted ioyes bereft,
Why leaue you him whom lucklesse Loue hath slaine to view the morrow?
My faintfull flocke dooth languish and lament,
To see their master mourning his mischance this iolly season:
My bagpip's broke, my roundelaies are blent,
My rebecke now my solace to aduance accounts it geason:
Yet not alone sheepe, lambes, kidds weep my woe:
But rockes for ruth, and birds for sorow plaine my wofull wending:
Then cruell Loue vouchsafe me to forgoe
My wretched life, the cause of mickle paine, and make mine ending.
The rockes their brookes with murmuring noyse shall weepe,
The birds their songs with warbling notes shall sing: and full of pleasure
My flockes shall feed, although their master sleep,
And to my graue their falling fleeces bring, their natiue treasure.
Solace each where shall raigne when I am dead,
No care, no woe, no sorrow shall preuaile: but well contented
Poore I shall sleep, when cursed Loue is fled,
That first with furie did the fields assaile where I frequented.
Finis.
7
THe earth late choakt with showers
Is now araid in greene:
Her bosome springs with flowers,
The aire dissolues her teene,
The heauens laugh at her glorie:
Yet bide I sad and sorie.
The woods are deckt with leaues,
And trees are cloathed gaie,
And Flora crownd with sheues
With oaken boughs dooth play:
Where I am clad in blacke,
The token of my wracke.
The birds vpon the trees
Doo sing with pleasant voices,
And chaunt in their degrees
Their loues and luckie choices:
When I, whilst they are singing.
With sighs mine armes am wringing.
The Thrushes seeke the shade,
And I my fatall graue:
Their flight to heauen is made,
My walke on earth I haue:
They free, I thrall: they iolly,
I sad and penciue wholly.
8
WHen with aduice I weigh my yeares forepast,
And count the course that in my youth I kept:
How my fond eies on garish beautie plast,
Dimde by desires in vaine opinion slept:
For euerie looke and thought with teares I crie,
I loath the faults and follies of mine eie.
By which my heart was burnt with scorching flame,
Growing to head by stealth of idle time,
Whom oft my lookes with blushing red did blame;
But follie fixt before, it grew to prime:
So for my wanton lookes with teares I crie,
I loath the faults and follies of mine eie.
Oh wanton looks, yee foes of sad forecast,
That wept the teares of will, and not repent:
Now see the end how fickle faire is past,
[Page]And crimson cheekes with crooked yeares are spent:
And blame your selues, and helpe my carefull crie,
Who loath the faults and follies of mine eye.
Finis.
9
HAnd, heart, and eye; toucht, thought, and did behold
A lock, a ioye, a looke of great delight,
Lookes sweet, ioyes rare, but lockes of beaten gold,
Hearts ioye, eyes lookes, hands touch so pleasde my sight;
That what I would, by eye, hand, heart I trie,
And what I am, is but hand, heart, and eye.
Finis.
10
IF hollowe eyes, if wan and wearish face,
If scalding sighes my secret suites bewray:
Loe (loue) those lookes that want their former grace,
And dying thoughts which secret ioyes betray.
And grant me this that either death may ease,
Or humble suite my mistris wrath appease.
Whose dire disdaine more pines my fainting heart,
Than Aetnaes flame that fumes both night and day:
Whose wisedome when it measures by desart,
Dissolues my doubts and driues my woes away:
Whose lookes if once they yeeld me beames of grace,
Discharge the furrowes that befret my face.
Twixt hope and happe my shippe doth beare a saile,
The Seas are sighes, the Ancker slipper ioye;
Would Sea and Ancker both, and tacke might faile,
So land of loue were gain'd to foile annoye.
I say no more, the teare that last did fall
On latter line, can shewe and open all.
Finis.
11
A Satyre sitting by a riuer side,
Foreworne with care that hardlie findes recure:
A straying Nymph in passion did deride
His teares, his care, her smiles her scornes assure:
He wept, she wisht, and all their thoughts among,
Fancie beheld and sung this carefull song.
[Page]Perhaps the furrowes in thy wrinckled face
Growne by thy griefe, abate thy wonted forme:
Perhaps her eye was formde to yeeld disgrace,
And blemisht that which wit may not reforme.
Perhaps she will if so thou list to proue,
Perhaps she likes, and yet she dares not loue.
But if (perhaps) thy fortune be so faire,
Laugh Satyre then it proues a pretie prize:
And if thou wilt, so liue to shunne dispaire
As looking long thou keepe thy proper eyes.
This said she ceast: the Nymph she fled away,
And good perswasion causde the Satyre play.
12
FAire Phoebus flowre vpon a sommer morne,
Gan proud with loue to shewe her painted pride,
And gay with glorie with a curious scorne,
Disdainde those buds that blossom'd her beside.
When Rose and Lillies, Violets and Balme,
(Scarce warm'd to worke their beauties to a flowre)
With enuious wrath neere to a water calme,
Beheld my Phillis in a happie howre.
Not wak't nor wonne too much with solemne sleepe,
But sweetlie slombring they beheld my Saint,
The Rose and Lillies both together creepe;
The one her lip, the next her cheeke did taint.
And both they spread: the Violet consum'd
To gentle ayre her amber breath fulfilled:
Apollo feeling all the aire perfumde,
With gentle beames into her eyes distilled.
His flowre amaz'd, gaue Rose and Lillies place,
The Sunne his shine within her eyes containeth,
The Rose her lips, the Lillies decke her face,
The Violet within her breath remaineth.
Lenuoy.
THen cease (fond men) henceforth to boast your flowers,
Since Roses, Lillies, Violets are ours:
And Phoebus flowre doth homage to their powers,
And Phillis eye his glorious beames deuours.
FINIS.

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