Greenes neuer too late. Or, A powder of experience: sent to all youthfull gentlemen to roote out the infectious follies, that ouer-reaching conceits foster in the spring time of their youth. Decyphering in a true English historie, those particular vanities, that with their frostie vapours nip the blossoms of euery ripe braine, from atteining to his intended perfection. As pleasant, as profitable, being a right pumice stone, apt to race out idlenesse with delight, and follie with admonition. Rob. Greene in artibus Magister.

The Hosts tale.

IN Thessalie, where Nature hath made the soyle proude with the beautie of Shepheards, there dwelled a swayne called Selador; auncient, as hauing age seated in his haires; and wealthie, as infeoffed with great possessions; and honest, as being indued with many vertuous qualities. This Selador had to ioy him in his age a daughter of great beautie, so exquisite in her exteriour feature, as no blemish might eclipse the glorie that Nature b••stowed in her linia∣ments. As thus she was faire, so was she wise, and with her wit ioyned vertue, that to behold, she was Helena; to heare, Pallas; and to court, a Daphne. This Damosell whose name was Mirimida, kept h••r fathers shéepe, & in a scarlet peticoate, with a chaplet of flowers on her head, went euery day to the ••••••lds, where she plide the care of her fa∣thers foldes with such diligence, that she seemed with La∣bour to enter armes against Loue, & with her hands thrift to preuent her hear••s gréefe. Using thus daylie the playnes of Thessalie, the Shepheards delighted at the gaze of so excellent an obiect, and held their eyes fortunate when they might behold her feature, estéeming him happie that could lay his flockes néerest to her foldes. Amongst the rest of all the swaynes that fed their thoughts 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hee fauours, there was one called Eurymachus, a young youth that had th•• pride of his yeares triumphing in his countenance, wittie and full of pleasant conceipts, and that Fortune might iumpe with loue, and make him gracious in womens eyes he was wealthie; for gold is the Chrisocoll of loue. This Eurymachus alwaies so plotten the course of his shéepe

walke, that he was next neighbour to Mirimida, in so much that to discouer his fancie hee did her often fauours; for when any of her Lambes went ••••tray, or any thing grewe amisse, then Eurymachus was the swayne that indeuoured by his labour to redresse euery losse. By this meanes hée waxed priuate and familiar with Mirimida, which was the meanes that wrought him into a preiudiciall l••borinth; for he did so neere acced••r•• ad ig••em, that hée did calescere plu•• quam saetis: for as none comes néere the fume of the Mis∣selden but he waxeth blind, nor any touch the Salamander but he is troubled with the palsie; so none could gaze on the face of Mirimida 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they went away l••nguishing. This did poore E••rymachus experience: for although he knewe Loues fires were fatall, and did not warme but scortch; yet he loued with the bird ••o flie to the ••lame though he burne his wings and fell in the ••ush; he would not with Vlisses stop his eares, but sit and sing with the Syreus; he feared no inchantment, but caroust with Circes, till his ouerdaring drewe him into a passionate danger, and so long suckt in the beautie of Mirimida with his euer thirstie eyes, till his hart was fuller of passions, than his eyes of affections: yet disco∣uer his thoughts he durst not, but smoothered vp his inward paynes with outward silence; hauing the Ouen the hatter within for that it was dam•• vp, and his gre••fes the deeper for that they were concealed. To ma••ifest his maladie to her he durst no••, he thought himselfe too homely a patient for such a Phisition: to vtter his loue•• to another and make any his Secretarie but himselfe, he supposed was to drawe in a riuall to his loues. Thus was Eurymachus perplexed, till at last to giue a little ••ent to the flame, sitting on a day on a hill, hée puld foorth pen and incke, and wrote this fancie.

Eurymachus fancie in the prime of his affection.

When lordly Saturne in a sable roabe Sat full of frownes and mourning in the West, The euening starre scarce p••••pt from out her lodge, And Phoebus nowly gallopt to his rest: Euen th••n Did I Within my boate sit in the silent streames, All voyd of cares as he that lies and dr••am••s.

As Phao so a Ferriman I was, The countrie lasses sayd I was too faire, With easie toyle I labourd at mine ••are, To passe from side to side who did repaire: And then Did I For pain••s take pence, and Charon like transport Assoone the swayne as men of high import.

When want of worke did giue me l••aue to rest, My sport was catching of the wanton fish: So did I weare the tedious time away, And with my labour mended oft my dish•• For why I thought That idle houres were Calenders of ruth•• And time ill spent was preiudice to youth.

I scornd to loue, for were the Nimph as fa••re As she that loued the beauteous Latmian swayne, Her face, her eyes, her tresses, nor her browes Like Iuorie could my affection gaine:

For•• by I said With high disdaine, Loue is a base desire, And Cupids flames, why the are but ••atrie fire.

As thus I sat disdayning of proud loue, Haue euer F••rri•••••• there cried a boy, And with him was a paragon, for bu•• A louely 〈◊〉〈◊〉 beauteous and coy, And ••••ere With her. A maiden, couered with a t••••nie val••, Her face vnseene far breeding louers bal••.

I stird my boate, and when I came to shoare The boy was wingd, me thought it was a wonder: The dame had eyes like lightning or the flash That runnes before ••he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 report of thunder; Her smiles. Were sweet••, Louely her face: was neere so faire a creature, For earthly cark••sse had a heauenly feature.

My friend (quoth she) 〈…〉〈…〉 behold, We three must passe, but not af••r thing fare, But I will giue (for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Queene of l••ue) The brightest lasse thou lik'st vnto thy share, Choose where Thou ••••est, Be she as faire as Loues sweete Ladi•• is, She shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will be thy blisse.

With that she smiled with such a pleasing face, As might haue made the marble rocke relent: But that I triumph•• in disdaine of loue, Bad 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••o fond loue was bent,

And then Said thus, So light the Ferriman for loue doth care, As Venus passe not, if she pay no f••r••.

At thi•••••• a frowne ••at on her angrie brow, She winkes vpon her wanton sonne hard by: He from his quiuer drow a bolt of fire, And aymd so right as that he pearst mine eye: And then Did she Draw downe the v••le that hid the virgins face, Whose heauenly beauti•• lightned all the place.

Straight then I leande mine arme vpon mine eare, And ••ookt vpon the Nymph (if so) was faire: Her eyes were starres, and like Apollos lo••ks Me thought appeard the tramels of her haire. Thus did I ga••e And suckt in beautie till that sweete desire Cast fue•••• on and set my thought on fire.

When I was lodgd within the net of loue, And th••t they saw my heart was all on flame, The Nymph away, and with her trips along The winged boy, and with her goes his dame. Oh then I cried Stay Ladies stay and take not any care•• You all shall passe and pay no penny fare••

Away they fling, and looking coylie backe They laugh at me: oh with a loude disdaine. I send out sighes to ouertake the Nimphs, And t••••res a•• lures to call them backe againe:

But ••••ey Flie ••hence, But I sit in my boat••, with 〈…〉〈…〉 And feele a pain••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 knowe not what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sore.

At last I feele it is the flame of loue, I striue but bootlesse to expresse the paine, It cooles, it fires, i•• hopes, i•• feare••, i•• fr••ts, And s••irreth passions thr••••ghout euery 〈◊〉〈◊〉 That 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I sat•• And sighing did fair•• Venus lawes appr••••••, And swore n•• thing so ••weete and sowre as loue, ••r•• ••lorida pungu••••.

Hauing made this Canzon he put it in his bosome, and oft when he was by himselfe would reade it, easing his pas∣sion with viewing the conceip••s of his owne fancie: on a day hauing brought downe his s••eep•• he espies Mirimida, a••d to her he goes, and after his wonted salut•• sat downe by her, and fell to such ••hat 〈…〉〈…〉, int••r∣medling his passion with so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sighes, 〈…〉〈…〉 his eye so effectually vpon her face without 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that she per∣ceiued the Shepheard had 〈…〉〈…〉, and that there was none but she that b••re the Antidote. As thus she noated his passions, she espied a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of paper sticking out of his bosome, which she 〈…〉〈…〉 p••••ceiuing it was a Sonne•• she read it, and th•••• lo••king ear∣nestlie on Eurymachus 〈…〉〈…〉, and she with a friendly smile began to crosse him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

What Eurymachus 〈…〉〈…〉 labours wipe away wanton Amours, nor thy sh••••pes care preuent thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 loue? I had thought fancie 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on thy ••••ele, nor affection presented any obiect ••o thine eye•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 now 〈…〉〈…〉 the Cameli••n cannot liue without ayre, 〈…〉〈…〉∣••er without fire: so men 〈…〉〈…〉 quiet in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 life, vnlesse

they acquaint them with l••ue: I see swaynes are not such swads but they haue thoughts and passions, and be they ne∣uer so lowe they can looke at beautie. Corydon in his gray cassocke had his faire Phillis, and Menalcas could court Galatea in his Shepheards cloake, and Eurymachus be he neuer so homely will hazarde, but at whome there lies the question.

At whom (quoth Eurymachus) ah Mirimida, at one that is too high for my thoughes, and too beauteous for my for∣tunes: so that as I haue soared with the Hobby, I shall bate with the Bunting; & daring with Phaeton, I shall drowne with Icarus: mine eye was too proude, my thoughts too for∣ward; I haue stared at a ••••arre, but shall stumble at a stone, and I feare because I haue ouerlookt in loue, I shal be ouer∣laid in loue. With that he sighed, and Mirimida smiled and made this replie. Why Eurymachus, a man or a mouse? what is there any Cedar so high but the slowest snayle will créepe to the top? any fortune so base but will aspire; any loue so precious but hath his prize? What Eurymachus, a Cat may looke at a King, and a swaynes eye hath as high a reach as a Lords looke. Vulcan in his leather sutes courted Venus in her silkes: the swayne of La••mos w••ed Luna, both dare••, and both had their desires. What? Loue re∣quires not wealth but courage, & parentage is not so high prizd by fancie as personage: fe••••e not man, if thou hast lookt hie, followe thy though••s, and crie loues fauours, for deniall is no dishonour. Eurymachus hearing Mirimida in such an amorous humour, incouraged by her perswasions, thought now to strike while the yron was hot, and therefore taking her by the hand began thus.

Trueth Mirimida, Venus ••awes are bounded with con∣straint, and when loue leadeth the eye, desire kéepes no com∣passe: when Paris courted Helena, though she were coy and denied, yet was she not discourteous & disdained; for she an∣swered thus mildly: Nemo etenim succens••t amanti. This (Mirimida) makes me hardie to take thee by the hand, and

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Nay (quoth Eu••ymachus) and hee tooke her ••ast by the arme, if I were sure you had power as Diana had to plague me with Act•••••••• punishment, you passe not without a little more prattle; if I anger you, tis first a preparation ••o •• good stomacke, for ••holler is a friend to digestion: secondly, as the Chrisocoll and the golde by long stri••ing together growe to bee one mettall; so by o••e falling out we shall be be••ter friends: for

Amantium i••ae amoris redintegratio est.

Therefore (faire Mistris) si•• still and graunt some fauour to him that is ••e pained with fancie, I will loue you though I am poore, and a King can doo but so much: if you thinke my degrée be to•• lowe for so high beautie, thinke of all parte•• the meane is the mer••iest, and that the Shepheards gray hath lesse grie••e ••ho•• th•• Lordly estates: I knowe women must be coy, because they are women, and they must haue time to be wonne, or else they would be thought to ••e wan∣tons•• therefore whatsoeuer you say now I holde it not au∣thent••call, yet for that I would haue some hope, goo•• M••∣rimida let me see th••e laugh. She could not but smile to see the Shepheard so pleasant, and so Eurymathus rested con∣tent, and from amor••us that they fell to talke of other mat∣ters till euening grewe on, and then they folded their sheepe and with a friendly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 parted.

Eurymachus was not alone thus 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the fal•••• Mirimida, bu•• all the Shepheards of Thessalie wri•• Po∣••ms and D••••••es of her bea••••ie, and we••e ••ute••s to her for fauour; she like 〈◊〉〈◊〉 held loue in 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and yet wa•• courteous to all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 o••her kinde of conference. Amongs•• the rest, Venus (••e••••ke) willing to bee pleasant, had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one in the laborinth of loue called Mullidor, a ••ellow•• ••h•••• was of honest patents, but very poore, and his person•••••• was as if he had been cast in Esops moul••, his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 like•• 〈…〉〈…〉 of the largest life in folio, able to furnish a Coble•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉

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sat downe to his pottage and eate off his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 full, the old woman stumbles to the pot againe for a fresh messe. Ah mother (quoth hee with a great sigh) no more br••ath ••o nigh••: with that she clapt her hand o•• her knee, and swore her ••oy was not well that hée forsooke his supping, yet hée fell to a peece of bacon that stood on the board, and a ••ough barley pudding: but he rose before the rest and gat him into a corner, where folding his armes together he sat thinking on his loue. Assoone as the rest of the swaynes were vp from the table and turning Crabbes in the fire, she tooke her sonne into the seller, and sitting downe in her chaire began thus.

Sonne Mullidor, thy chéekes are lea••e, and thou lookest like le••ton, pale & wanne, I saw by thy stomacke to night thou art not thine owne man, thou hadst alate (God saue thée) a louely fat paire of chéekes, and now thou lookest like a shotte•• herring: Tell me Mullidor, and feare not to tell me, for thou tellest it to thy mother, what aylest thou? Is it griefe of bodie or of minde that keepes thée on holidaies from frisking it at the footeball? Thou art not as thou wert wont, & therefore say what thou aylst, and thou sh••l•• see old women haue good counsaile.

At th••se spéeches of his mother, Mullidor fetche a great sigh, and with that (being after supper) he brake winde•• which Callena hearing, oh sonne (quoth she) tis ••he Collic•• that troubles thée; to bed man, to bed, and wée will haue a warme p••tled. The Collick mother, no tis a disease that all the cunning women in the Countrie cannot cure, and strangely it holdes me for sometimes it paynes me in the head•• somewhiles in mine eyes; my heart, my heart, oh there mother it playes the diuell in a morter•• somewhile it is like a frost, cold•• sometimes as a fire, hot: when I should sleepe then it makes m•• wake; when I eate it troubles my stomacke; when I am in companie it makes me sigh; and when I am alone it makes me crie right out, that I ••an

wet one of my newe Lo••ker•••• ••apkins w••••h weeping. It came to me by a great chau••••e•• for as I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on a faire ••lower, a thing I knowe not what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eyes, a••d ranne round about all my vay••••s, and at last ga•• int•• my heart, and there euer since hath remained, and there mother euer since so wring•• me, that Mullidor must dye, and with that he fell on weeping.

Call••na seeing her sonne shed ••••ares, fell to her hemp••n apron and wipt her bleared eyes, and at last demaunded of him if it were not loue. At that question he hung downe his head and fighthed. Ah my sonne (quoth she) now I see tis loue; for he is such a sneaking fellowe, that if he bu•• le••••e in at the eylid a••d diue downe into the heart, and there rests as colde as a stone, yet touch him and he wi•••• s••••ike: for t••ll me Mullidor, what is she that thou lo••est and will not loue thee? If she bee a woman as I ••m, she cannot ••ut fancie thée; for mine eye though it bee now olde (and with that vp went her apron and she wipt them cléere) hath b••en a wanton when it was young, and would haue chosen at the first glance the prope••est springall in the Parish: and trust me Mullidor, but bée not proude of it, when I looke on thee I finde ••hee so louely, that I count her worse th••n accurst would not ch••ose thee for her Paramour. With these woordes Mullidor began to smile, and trou••led his mother ere she had halfe ended he•• tale on this ma••∣ner.

Mother, I may righ••••y compare the Church to a l••o∣king glasse; for as man may see himselfe in the one, and the••e see his proportion: so in the other the wenches e••••s are a testificate; for vpp•••• whome you se•• all the girles looke, hée for foo••e and fare carries away the bell, and I am sure for these two yeares I ne••er come in••o the Church and was no sooner set, but the wenches began to winke one on another to looke on mée and laugh. Oh ware mo∣ther when a dogge wagges his taile hée loues his master,

and when a woman laughs, for my life she is ouer the head & eares in loue. Then if my fortune serue me to be so well thought on, why should I not ••enter on her I loue. It is (mother) Seladors daughter Mirimida. Now Gods bles∣sing on thy heart (quoth Callen••) for louing such a smugge lasse, marrie her (my sonne) and thou shalt haue my benizon in a clowte. Mirimida? marie tis no mar••ell if thy chéekes are fallen for her: why, she is the fairest b••ossome in all the towne: to her sonne, to her, tricke thy selfe vp in thy best re∣parrell, & make no bones at it but on a woing: for womens desires, I may tell thee boy, are like childrens fancies, won oft with an apple when they refuse an Angell, and Mulli∣dor take this with thee and feare not to speede: A womans frowne is not euer an instance of choller: if she refuse thee outwardlie, she rega••ds t••ee inwardly; and if she shake thée vp and bid thée be packing, haue the better hope, Cats and Dogs come together by s••ratching: if she smile, then sonne say to thy selfe, she is thine•• and yet women are wyl••e cattel, for I haue seene a woman laugh with anger, and kisse him she hath desired to kill: she will be co•• (Mullidor) but care not for that, tis but a thing of course; speake thou faire, pro∣mise much, praise her hig••ly, comm••nd her beautie aboue all, and her vertue more than all, sigh often, and shewe thy selfe full of passions, and as sure as thy cap is of wooll, the wench is thine.

Mullidor hearing his mother giue such good counsaile, sayd he would ieopard a ioynt, and the next day haue a fling at her. With that he sayd his heart was eased, and his sto∣macke somewhat come downe with her good perswasions: where••pon the Am••rie was opened, and he turned me ouer the cantle of a Chée••e and went to bed. The next morning vp he rose, and his holy day roabes went on, his sta••d ••ppes ••ewe black••, his cappe faire brush••, and a cleane Lockeram band. Thus ••etyred, away flings Mullidor to the field, and carried away his sheepe & led them into the playnes where Mirimida sought to feede her flockes: comming there, he

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that Venus fires as well warme the poore as the rich, and that deformitie was no meanes to abridge fancie: where∣vpon she replied thus. Why Mullidor are you in loue, and with me: i•• there none but Mirimida that can fit your eye, b••ing so many beautifull damzels in Thessalie; take heede man, look•• before you leap least you fall in the ditch: I am not good enough for so proper a man as your selfe, es••e••i∣ally being his mothers onely sonne: what Mullidor, let m•• counsaile you, there are more maides than Malkin and the countrey hath such choice as may breede your better con∣tent: for mine own part at this time I meane not to mar∣ry. Tis no matter quoth Mullidor what you say: for my mother tolde me, that maides at first would bee coy when they were wooed, and mynse it as ••were a mare ouer a mouth full of This••les, and yet were not a whit the worse to be likte, for twas a matter of custome. Well then Mul∣lidor quoth Mirimida, leaue off for this time to talke•• of loue; and hope the best: to morrow perchaunce it will bee better: for women are like vnto children, that will oft refuse an Apple, and straight crie for the paring: and when they are most hungrie, then for fullennesse fast: This Mullidor quoth she, is the frowardnesse of loue: Marie then quoth he, if they haue childrens malladies, twere good to vse chil∣drens medicines, and thats a rod: for ••e they neuer so fro∣ward, a ier••k or two will make them forward: and if that would bring women to a good temper; my mother hath a stiffe cudgell, and I haue a strong arme.

Thus these two past away the day, till presently they espied a farr•• off a Gentleman with a Ha••ke on his fist, to come riding towards them: who drawing nie and seeing so faire a Nimph, raind his horse, and stoode still, as Acteo•• when he gazed at Diana: at last hee alighted, and comming towards her, saluted her thus curteously•• Faire vi••gin when I saw such a sweete Saint with such a crooked Apo∣stle, I straight thought Venus had bee•• walking abr••ad•• to take the ••yre with Vulcan; but ass••ne as mine eyes be∣gan

narrowly to make 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of thy b••••utie, I found V••∣nus ••lemishe with thy rare 〈…〉〈…〉 sheepe that are folded by su••h 〈…〉〈…〉 are the••e shephear••s that enioy the presen••e of such a beaute∣ous creature: no marue•••••• if Apollo became a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, o•• Mercury a ••eatheard, when their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 are recompe••st with such loues. My selfe faire damasell, if either my de∣gree were worthy, or my deserts any, wo••lde craue to haue entertainemēt to become your dutif••l 〈…〉〈…〉 wh••le Mirimida held downe her head and blush••: at last, lifting vp her eyes full of modestie, and her face full of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 colours•• such as florish out the fronts of Dianas virgins she made the Gentleman this answere. My seruant sit (quoth shee) 〈◊〉〈◊〉, your worth is far aboue my wealth, and your dignity 〈◊〉〈◊〉 high for my degree, p••ore cuntrie Damo•••••••• must n••t ayme too hie at fortune, nor flye too fast in desires, least ••ooking at their ••eete with the Peacock they let fall their pl••••es, and so shame at their owne follies: but if my gr•••• w•••••• so great as to enterteine such seruants, I must bestowe vpon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 some changable liuorie, to shew the ••arietie of the•••• minds•• for mens hearts are like to the ••oli••e, tha•• will 〈…〉〈…〉 to all col••ors but ble••, and their though••••s into all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but const••ncie•• In that sit, ••ou•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••azled and 〈…〉〈…〉, for Venus, 〈…〉〈…〉

Gentleman t••••s abu••e h••s patience, as a man conceipted in his owne propernesse, and especially afore Mirimida, thwarte•• him thus. You master meacock that stand vpon the beauty of your churmnilke face; as brag with your Buz∣zard on your fist, as a Sow vnder an apple tree: know that wee countrey swaines as we are not beholding to Nature for beautie, so we little accompt of Fortune. for any fauour: Tush man, my crooke back harboureth more honest condi∣tions, than thy fleering countenaunce: and these course suites, can fetch more pence than thy silkes: for I beleeue thou makst a sco••••e of the Mercers booke: thou hast made such sure entrance there, that thou wilt neuer from thence till thou beest come out by the eares. Goodman courtier, though we haue backes to beare your fr••mps; yet we haue queake stomack•• tha•• will hardly brooke them: and there∣fore fine foole, be gone with your foule, or I wil so be labour you, as you shall feele my fingers this f••rtnight: And with that Mull••dor heaued vp his sheephook & bent his bro••••s, so that the Gentleman gi••ing Mirimida the ••die••, hee pu•• spurs to his horse and went his way.

At this manly part of Mullidor, Mirimida laugh•• heartilie; and he tooke a great conceipt, that hee had shewd himselfe such a ••all man: Upon this, Mirimida gaue him a Nosegay which stuck in her bosome for a fauour; which hee accepted and gratefully, as though another had giuen him a tunne of golde. Night drew on, and they folded th••ir sheepe and departed, shee to her Father, and hee towardes olde Callena, as ioyful a man as Paris, when he had the pro∣mise from Venu•••• hee plodded on his way with his head full of passions and his heartfull of new thoughts, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eye was on the Nosegay, in so much that he stoode in a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whether it were Loue or some other 〈◊〉〈◊〉 worse 〈…〉〈…〉, that thu•• hincht him & pin••ht him: at la•••• he fel with himselfe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this meditation. Now doe I pe••••••iue that Loue is a purgation, and searcheth euery v••ines tha•• though & ente•• at the ••ye, yet it runnes to the heart, and then it 〈…〉〈…〉

olde coyle, where it worketh like a iuglers 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Oh Loue thou art like to a flea which ••itest sore, and yet leapest ••way and art not to be found: or to a pot of strong al••, that ma∣keth a man cal his Father whoreson: so both them bewitch a mans wits that he knoweth not a B. from a Battildore. Infortunate Mullidor, and therefore infortunate, because thou art ouer the eares in Loue; and with whome? with Mirimida: whose eyes are like to sparks of f••re, and ••hine like a pound of butter, like to be melted with her beau••y, and to cōsume with the frieng flame of fancie. Ah Mullido•• her face is like to a ••ed & white Daisy growing in a greene meddow, & thou like a bee, that commest and suckest honie from it, and cariest it home to y^• hiue with a heaue & hoe: that is as much to say, as with a head full of woes, & a heart full of sorrowes and mala••ies. Be of good cheare, Mirimida laughes on thee, & thou knowest a womans smile is as good to a louer, as a sunshine day to a Ha••maker: she shewes thee kind looks, & ca••ts many •• sheeps eye 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thee: which signif••es that shee counts thee a man worthi•• to iumpe a ma••ch with hir: nay more Mullidor, shee hath giuen thee •• Nosegay of flowers wherin as a top gallant for all y^e rest, is set in Rose∣mary for remembrance: Ah Mullidor cheere thy s••lfe, feare not; loue & fortune fauors lusty 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••owards are n••t friend•• to affection: therefore venter•• for thou has•• wonne her: els 〈◊〉〈◊〉 she not gi••en thee this no••egay. And with this remembring himselfe, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vp, left off his am••rous passions and ••••ud∣geth home to his house; where comming i••, olde Calena stumbles to see in wha•• humour hir sonne c••me ho••e: ••••••••∣lick he was, & his ••ap on the one••ide, he askt if supper we••e ready: his mother seeing his stomack was good, thought there was some hope of her Sonnes good fortunes, and therefore sayd, there was •• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the po•• that is almost enough: but sonne quoth she, what newes•• what successe in thy loues? how doth Mirimida 〈…〉〈…〉 Ah, ah, quoth Mullidor, and he smiled, how should I be vsed: but as one that was wrape in his m••••hers smock when hee was borne, Can the s••nne want heat, and the winter cold: or a proper

man be denied in his suites? No mother, assoone as I began to circumglaze her with my Sophistrie: & to fetch her about with 2 or three venies: frō mi••e eyes I gaue her such a thūp on the brest, that she would scarce say no: I told her my mind & so wrap•• hee in the prodigallitie of my wit that she said an other time shoulde: but then wee parted laughing, with such a sweete smile that it made mee loose in the ha••t like a dudgin dagger: she gaue me this nosegay for a fauour, which how I est••emed it gesse you•• thus haue I vsed her in ki••d∣nesse, and she vsed me in curtesie; & so I hope we shal make a friendly conclusion. By my troth sonne quoth she, & I hope no lesse, for I tell you, when maids giue gifts, they meane well; and a woman if she laugh with a glauncing looke wi∣sheth it were neither to do nor vndone: she is thine my sonne feare not: and with that she laid the cloth and se•• victuals on the borde where Mullidor tried himselfe so tall a trencher man, that his mother perceiued by his drift he would not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for loue. Leauing this passionate ••ubber, to the conceip•• of his loues •• let vs returne to the young cou••••yer called Ra∣dagon, who ••ro••ting a soft pace vpon his cours••r seeing the sunne now bright and then ouershadowed with clouds, be∣gan to ••ōpare the state of the weather fantas••ically to the hu∣mor of his Mirimidas fancies: saying, when Phoebus was eclipst with a vapour, then she lowred: when hee shewd his glorie in his brightnesse, the•• she smiled•• Thus hee dallied in an ••n••oth m••tion so long, that at last hee began to feele a fire that fretted to the heart. Ryding thus in a quandarie he entred into the consideratiō of Mirimidas beauty wher∣upon frolickly in an extemperat humor he made this sonnet.

Radagons Sonnet.

No cleare appeard vpon the azurd Skie, A val•• of stormes had shadowed Phoebus face•• And in a sable man••le of disgrace: Sate he that is ycleap••d heauens bright eye, As though that he, P••rplex•• for Clitia, meant to leaue his place,

And wrapt in sorrowes did resolue to di••; For death to louer•• woes is euer me•• Thus foulded in a hard and mournfull laz•• Distrest sate hee.

A mistie fogge had thickned all ••he ayre, Iris sate solemne and denied her showers Flora in taunie hid vp all her flowers And would not diaper her meads with faire, As though that shee Were armd vpon the barren earth to lowre Vnto the founts Diana nild repaire, But sate as ouershadowed with dispaire Solemne and sad within a withered bower Her Nymp••es and she.

Mars malecontent lay sick on Venus knee, Venus in dumps sat muffled with a frowne Iuno laid all her frollick humors downe, And Ioue, was all in dumps as well as she: Twas Fates decree. For Neptune (as he ment the world to drown) Hea••d vp his surges to the highest tre••, And leagud with Eol, mard the Seamans gle•• Beating the Cedars with his billows downe Thus wroth was hee.

My mistris deynes to shew hir sunb••ight face, The ayre cleard vp, the clowds did fade away, Phoebus was frollick when she did display The gorgious bewties, that her frunt do grace. So that when she•• But walkt abroad, the stormes then fled away, Flora did checker all her treading place, And Neptune calmde the surg•••• ••ith his mace, Diana a••d hir Nimphes were bl••the and gaie, When h••r th••y see.

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kill a thousand men. Indeed I cannot denie but oft sub mel∣le latet venenum, that beautie without vertue is like a boxe of Iuorie containing some balefull Aconiton, or to a faire shooe that wrings the too••e; such loue as is laid vpon such a foundation is a short pleasure full of payne, and an affec∣tion bought with a thousand miseries; but a woman that is faire and ve••tuous maketh her husband a ioyfull man; and whether he be rich or poore, yet alwaies he may haue a ioy∣full heart. A woman that is of a silent tongue, shamefast in countenance, sober in behauiour, and honest in condition, a∣dorned with vertuous qualities correspondent•• is like a goodly pleasant flower deckt with the colours of all the flo∣wers of the garden: and such a one (quoth he) is Mirimida, and therfore though she be poore I will loue her and like her; and if she wil fancie me I will make her my wife. And vpon this he resolued to prosecute his sute towards her, in so much that assoone as he came home and had rested himselfe a while, he stept to his standish and wrote her a letter.

Radagon was not more pained with this passionate ma∣ladi•• than poore Eurymachus, who could t••ke no r••st, al∣though euery day in her presence he fed his eye with y^e beau∣tie of her face: but as the Hidaspis the more he drinkes the more thirstie he is; so Eur••machus the more he looked the more he loued, as hauing his eye deeply e••amoured of the obiect; reueale any more his su••e he durs•• not, be••••use wh••n he began to that of loue she sha•••• him off•• and either 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••∣way in a rage, or else forst him to fall to other prattle; in so much that he determined to discourse his minde in a letter•• which he performed as cunningly as he could & sent it her••

Mullido•• that asse r••pt out his reasons diuers ••imes to Mirimida, vntil she was weary of the 〈…〉〈…〉 fooleries, and so with a sharpe wor•• or two ••ip•• him on the pate: whereupon asking his mothers counsaile, she persw••∣ded him to write v••to Mirimida, altho••gh he and a p••n wer•• as fit as an ••••••e and •• harpe•• 〈…〉〈…〉 and stealing into the Churchyard vnder an Appletre•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in his muses he framed a letter and sent it her.

Thus had Fortune (meaning to be merrie) appoynted in her secret synod that al these three should vse one meanes to possesse their loues, & brought it so to passe that the thrée let∣ters from these three riuals were deliuered at one instant: which when Mirimida saw, she sat her downe and laught, wondring at the rarenes of the chance y^t should in a moment bring such a conceipt to passe; at last (for as then shee was leading foorth her shéepe) shee satte her downe, and looking on the superscription saide to her selfe; what Adamants are faire faces that can draw both rich, poore & fooles to lodge in the laborinth of their beauties: at this she sighed, & the first letter she broake open, because he was her first louer, was Eurymachus. The contents whereof were these.

Eurymachus the Shepheard to Mirimida the Goddesse of Thessalie.

WHen (Mirimida) I sit by thy sweet selfe & wonder at thy sight, feeding as the Bée vpon the wealth of thy beauties, the conceipt of ••hine excellencie driues me into an extasie, that I became dumme with ouer much delight; for Nature sets downe this as an authenticke principle:

Sensibile sensui suppositum nulla fi•• sensatio.

If the flower be put in the nostrill there is no smell; the co∣lour clapt close to the eye blemisheth the sight: so a louer in presence of his mistris hath y^e organs of his speech tied, that he conceales with silence, a••d sighs out his smoothered pas∣sions with sorowes. Ah Mirimida, consider y^t loue is such a fire as either will burst foorth or burne the house; it is such a streame as will either haue his course, or breake through the bankes & make a deluge, or els force their hart strings crack with secrecy. Thē Mirimida, if I be lauish in my pen, blame me not y^t am so laden with loue; if I be bold, attribute it to thy beautie, not my impudencie, & thinke what I ouer dare in, it growes through the extremitie of loyal affection, which is so déeply imprinted in my thoughes, as neither time can diminish nor misfortune blemish. I aime not (Mirimida) at thy wealth, but at thy vertues; for the more I consider thy

perfection, y^e more I grow passionate, & in such an humour, as if thou denie, there is no meanes to cure my maladie but that salue which healeth all incurable sores, & that is ••eath. Therefore (sweet Mi••imida) consider of my loues & vse me as my loyaltie deserues: let not my pouertie put in any barre, nor the basenesse of my birth be•• any excuse of thy af∣fection; weigh my desires, not ••y degrees, & either send me a speedie pla••ster to salue my ••espairing passions, or a cora∣siue to cut off my lingering sorowes, either thy fauour with life, or thy deniall with death, betwéene which I rest in hope till I heare thine answer.

Thine, who can be no others but thine, the Shepheard Eurymachus.

To the end of this letter (for that he would runne des••ant vpon his wit) he set downe a Sonnet written in the forme of a Madrigale, thus.

Eurimachus in laudem Mirimidae, his Motto Inuita fortuna dedi vota concordia.

When Flora proude in pompe of all her flowers Sat bright and gay, And gloried in the d••aw of Iris sh••wers, And did display Her mantle checquered all with gawdy greene: Then I Alone A mournfull man in Er••cine was seene.

With folded armes I trampled through the grasse, Tracing as he That held the Throane of Fortune brittle glasse, And loue to be Like Fortune fleeting as the restlesse wind Mixed With mists Whose dampe doth make the cleerest eyes grow blind.

Thus in a maze I spied a hideous flame, I cast my sight, And sawe where blythly bathing in the ••ame With great delight, A worme did lye, wrapt in a smokie sweate: And yet Twas strange It carelesse lay and shrunke not at the heate.

I stood amazd and wondring at the sight, While that a dame That shone like to the heauens rich sparkling light, Discourst the same: And sayd, my friend this worme within the fire Which lies Content, Is Venus worme, and represents desire.

A Salamander is this princely beast, Deckt with a crowne, Giuen him by Cupid as a gorgeo••s erest Gainst fortunes frowne, Content he lies and bathes him in the flame, And goes Not foorth•• For why he cannot liue without the same.

As he: so louers lie within the fir•• Of feruent loue, And shrinke not from the flame of hot desire•• Nor will not mooue From any heate, that Venus force imparts: But lie Conten•• Within a fire and wast away their harts.

Vp flew the da•••• and vanisht in a cl••wd••, But there stood I, And many thoughts within my mind did shrowde Of loue: for why, I felt within my heart a scortching fire, And yet As did The Salamander, twas my whole desire.

Mirimida hauing read this Sonnet, she straight (being of a pregnant wit) conceip••ed the drift of his Madrigale, smiled and layd it by, and then next tooke vp Radagons let∣ter, which was written to this effect.

Radagon of Thessalie to the faire Shep∣herdize Mirimida health.

I Cannot tell (faire Mistris) whether I should praise For∣tune as a friend, or curse her as a foe, hauing at vnwares presented me with the view of your perfection, which sight may be either the sunne of my blisse, or the beginning of my vale: for in you rests the b••llance either to weigh me downe my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with courte••••e, or my deniall with ex••reame vnkindnes. Such as are pric••e with the boanes of the Dol∣phin, heare musicke and they are presently ••eales of their maladie; they which are i••ne••ymed with the U••per, rubbe the so••e with R••barb and feel•• a remedie, and those which drinke Aco••iton are cured by Antidotes. But loue is like the sting of a Scorpion, it must be salued by affection; for neither charme, hear••e, stone, nor mynerall hath vertue to cure it: which made Apollo excla••e this passion.

Hei mihi quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis.

With the same distresse (swéete Mirimida) am I pained, who lighting by chance as Paris did in the vale of Ida vpon Venus, haue seene a brighter Danie than Venus; but I feare me lesse courteous than Venus. I haue no golden

apple (faire Nymph) to present thee with, so to prooue thée supreme of beautie; but the deuotion of my thoughts is of∣fered humblie at thy feete, which shall euer confesse none so beauteous as Mirimida. Then as Venus for reward gaue Paris Helena, so courteous Nymph bee prodigall of thy fa∣uours and giue me thy heart, which shall bee to me more deare than a hundred Helens.

But here perhaps thou wilt obiect, that mens pleas are like Painters pe••sels, which drawe no substance but sha∣dowes, that to the worst proportions giue the richest co∣lours, and to the coursest pictures the finest glasses, that what wee write is of course, and when wee faine passions, then are wee least passionate, hauing sorrowfull pens when wee haue secure hearts, and louring lookes when wee haue laughing thoughts. I cannot denie (sweete Mistris) but that hot loues are like a bauins blaze, and that men can pro∣mise more in a moment than they will performe in a mo∣neth. I knowe there was a Demophon that deceiued Phil∣lis, an Aeneas that falsified his faith to Dido, a Theseus that forsooke his Ariadne: yet measure not all by some mens minds; of a fewe particular instances, conclude not generall axiomes; though some haue been fleeting•• thinke not all to be false; trie me, I referre your passions to my proofe, and as you finde me loyall so reward me with loue. I craue no authenticall graunt, but a superficiall fauour: say (Mirimi∣da) that Radagon shall bee welcome if he bee faithfull, and then my hope shall comfort my heart. In which s••spence •• rest confused, at the barre of your courtesie. Farewell.

Mirimidas Radagon, though she will not be Radagons Mirimida.

This she read ouer twise and bl••sht at it, as féeling a little heate, but straight she sighed and shake it from her heart, and had laid it by, but that turning ouer the next

page she espied certaine verses, which was a Canzon per•• thus.

Radagon in Dianam Non fuga Tencrus amat: quae ••amen odit habet.

It was a valley gawdi•• greene, Where Dian at the fount was seene, Greene it was, And did passe All other of Dianas bowers, In the pride of Floras flo••••••s.

A fount it was that no Sunne sees, Circled in with Cipres trees, Set so nie, As Phoebus eye Could not doo the Virgins seathe, To see them naked when they bathe.

She sat there all in white, Colour ••i••ting her delite, Virgins so Ought to go: For white in Armorie is plast To be the colour that is chast.

Her ta••t a Cassocke might you see Tucked vp aboue her knee, Which did show There below Legges as white as whales bone. So white and chast was neuer non••.

Hard by her vpon the ground, Sat her Virgins in a round

Bathing their Golden haire, And singing all in notes hye Fie on Venus flattring eye.

Fie on loue it is a toy, Cupid witlesse and a boy, All his fires And desires Are plagues that God sent downe from hie, To pester men with miserie.

As thus the Virgins did disdaine Louers ioy and louers paine, Cupid nie Did espie, Greeuing at Dianas song, Slylie stole these maides among.

His bow of steele, darts of fire, He shot amongst them sweete desire•• Which straight flies In their eyes. And at the entrance made them start, For it ran from eye to hart.

Calisto straight supposed loue Was faire and frolicke for to loue: Dian shee Scapt not free: For well I wot hereupon She loued the swayne Endimion.

Clitia Phoebus, and Cloris eye Thought none so faire as Mercu••ie:

Venus thus Did discusse By her sonne in darts of fire, None so chast to checke desire.

Dian rose with all her maids, Blushing thus at loues braids, With sighs all Shew their thrall. And flinging hence pronounce ••his saw, What so strong as Lou•••• sweet l••w?

Mirimida hauing read the letter of Radagon, perceiued that loue was in his eyes, and pe••haps had s••ylie toucht hi•• heart: but she that was charie of her choyce, and resolute not to fetter her selfe with fancie, did passe ouer these pas∣sions, as men d•••• the shadowes of a painters pensell•• which while they view they praise, and when they haue praised, passe ouer without any more remembrance: yet she could not but enter into the humorous ••each of his conceipt, how hee checkt the coy disdaine of women in his Sonnet, she blusht, and her thoughts went away with her ••loud, and so she lighted on the letter that Mullidor had sent her, which droue her into a pleasant vaine. The effects of his passions were these.

Mullidor the malecontent, with his pen clapt full of loue, to his Mistris Miri∣mida greeting.

AFter my heartie Commendations remembred, hoping y•••• be in as g••••d health as I was at the making hereof. This is to certi•••••• you, that loue may well bee compared 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a bottle of hay, which once set 〈…〉〈…〉 or to a cup full of strong ale, which when a man hath once tasted, he neuer leaues till he hath drunke it all vp: so Mi∣stris

Mirimida, after the furious flames of your two eyes had set my poore heart on the coales of loue, I was so scor∣thed on the grediron of affection, that I had no rest till I was almost turned to a c••ale, and after I had tasted of the liquour of your sweete phisnomie, I neuer left supping of your amiable countenance, till with loue I am almost rea∣die to burst. Consider with your selfe faire Shepheardize, that poore men feele paine as well as Princes; that Mulli∣dor is sicke of such a malladie, as by no meanes can bee cu∣red, vnlesse your selfe lay a sea••ecloth to draw away my sor∣rowes: then be pitifull to me least you bee counted disdain∣ful, to put so trustie a louer out of his right wits; for theres no ho but either•• I must haue you, or els for very plaine loue runne mad. It may be (Mirimida) you thinke me too base for your beautie: why? when you haue married me I am content to serue you as a man, and to doo al those indeuours that belongs to a seruant, and rather to holde you for my Mistris than my wife. Then seeing you shall haue the so∣ueraintie at my hands, which is the thing that all women desire, loue me sweete Mirimida, and thinke this, if you match with mee, olde Callena my mother hath that in a ••lowte that will doo vs both good. Thus hoping you will ponder my passions in your minde, and be more courteous than to cast away a young man for loue. Farewell.

Yours halfe mad because he would bee yours, Mullidor the male∣content.

Such a poetical ••urie tooke Mullidor in the braines, that he thought to shewe his vaine in verse, and therfore annexed to his letter this pleasant Dittie.

Mullidors Madrigale.

Dildido dildido, Oh loue, oh loue, I feele thy rage romble below and aboue.

In sommer time I sawe a face, Trope belle pourmoy helas helas, Like to a st••••nd horse was her pace: Was eu••r yong man so dismaid, Her eyes like waxe torches did make me afraid, Trop belle pour moy voila mon trespas.

Thy beautie (my Loue) exceedeth supposes, Thy haire is a nettle for the nicest roses, Mon dieu aide moy, That I with the primrose of my fresh wit, May tumble her tyrannie vnder my feete, He donque ie sera vn ie••ne roy. Trope belle pour moy helas helas, Trop belle pour moy voyla mon trespas.

Mirimida hauing read this humorous fancie of Mulli∣dor, began thus to meditate with her selfe. Listen not fond wench to loue, for if thou doest thou learnest to loose, thou shal•• finde griefe to bee the gaines, and follie the paymistr••is that rewards all amorous trauells. If thou web thy selfe to Radagon, thou aimest beyond thy reach: and looking higher than thy fortunes, thou wilt repent thy desires; for Mirimida affects beyond compasse, haue ofttime infortu∣tunate effects; rich roabes haue not euer sweete consent, and therefore the meane 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the merriest honour. What then, mu••t Eurymachus of all these t•••••••• bee the man that must make vp the match; he is a shepheard and harbours quiet in his cottage, his wishes are not aboue his wealth, nor doth his conceipt climbe higher than his deserts. He hath sufficiēt

to sh••owde thee from wa••••, and to maintaine the state of an honest life. Shep••eards wrong not their wiues with suspi∣tion, nor doo countrie Swaynes estéeme lesse of their loues than higher ••egrees. But Mirimida, meane men haue frownes as wel•• as kings; the least haire hath his shadow, the Flye her spléene, the Ant her gall, and the poorest Pea••sant his chol••er. Peasants can weld a cudgell better than a great Lord, and dissention will haue a fling amongst th•• meanest. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 therfore mariage must haue her inconuenience, better golden gyues than yron fetters. What saiest thou then to Mullidor? that he is Mullidor, and let that suffice to shake him off for a foole; for it were thy discredite to haue onely a woodcock to keepe the woolfe from the doore. Why then, meanest thou not to loue? No fond lasse if thou bee wise; for what is sweeter than libertie? and what burthen heauier than the fist of a froward husband. Amongst many Scorpions thou lookest for one E••le; amongst a hedge full of nettles for one flower; amongst a thousand flatterers for one that is faithful; & yet when thou hast him thy thoughts are at his will, and thy actions are limited to his hum••••rs. Beware Mirimida, strike not at a stale because it is pain∣ted; though honey be sweete Bées haue stings; there is no sweeter life than chastitie, for in that estate thou shair liue commended and vncontrold.

Upon this she put vp the letters, and because she would not leade her Louers into a labori••th of hope, the appoyn∣ted them all to meete her at the Shéepfolds on one day and at one houre, where the Woers that ••••ood vpon thornes to heare her censure met without faile. After salutes post be∣tweene Mirimida and them, she began to parley with them thus.

Gentlemen, all riualls in loue and ••••me••s at o•••• fortun•••• though you three affect like desire to haue M••rimidas fa∣uour, yet but one of you can were the flower, and perhaps none, for it is as my fancie censures: therefore are you con∣tent that I shall set downe which of you, or whether none of

you shall enioy the ende of you•• sutes, and who so is forsa∣ken, to part hence with patience and neuer more to talke of his passions. To this they all agreed and she made this an∣swere. Why then Radagon and E••••ymachus weare you two the Wil••owe Garland, not that I hold either your de∣grees or deserts worthlesse of a fairer than Mirimida: but that the destinies doo so appoynt to my desires, that your af∣fects cannot worke in me any effects. At this, Radagon and Eurymachus frowned, not so much that they were forsaken, but that so beautifull a creature would wed her selfe to such a deformed asse as Mullidor, and the foole he simpered it in hope to haue the wench. Now (quoth she) Mullidor may hope to bee the man: but trust me as I found him I leaue him, a dolt in his loues, and a foole in his fortunes. At this they laught and he hung the head, and she left them all. Ra∣dagon taking his hawke to goe flie the Partridge•• Eury∣machus marching with his sh••ephooke to the folds; Mulli∣dor ••ying home to his mother to recount his mishaps, and Mirimida singing that there was no Goddesse to Diana, no life to libertie, nor no loue to chastitie.

Francesco, Isab••l, and all the rest of the guests applauded this discourse of the pleasant Host: and for that it was late in the night they all rose, and taking their leaue of Frances∣co departed, he and his wife bidding their Host good night, and so going to bed, where wee leaue them to leade the rest of their liues in quiet.

Thus (quoth the Palmer) you haue heard the discouerie of ••ouths follies, and a true discourse of a Gentlemans fortunes.

But now courteous Palmer (quoth the Gentleman) ••t rests that we craue by your owne promise the reason of your pilgrimage to Venice. That (quoth the Palmer) is discourst in a word: for knowe sir, that enioyning my selfe to penance for the follies of my youths passions hauing liued in loue, and therefore reape all my losse by loue•• ••earing that of all the Cities in Europe, Venice hath most semblance of Ve∣nus

vanities. I goe thether not onely to see fashions, but to quip at fol••••es, that I may drawe others from that harme that hath brought me to this hazard. The Gentlewomen of Venice your neighbours, but vnknown to me, haue more fauours in their faces than vertue in their thoughts; and their beauties are more curious than their qualities be pre∣cious, caring more to be figured out with Helen, than to bée famozed with Lucrece; they striue to make their faces gor∣geous, but neuer seeke to fit their minds to their God, and couet to haue more knowledge in loue than in religion: their eyes bewray their wantonnesse, not their modestie; & their lookes are lures that reclaime not Hawkes, but make them onely bate at dead stales: As the Gentlewomen so are the men, loose liuers and straight louers, such as hold their con∣science in their purses and their thoughts in their eyes, coū∣ting that houre ill spent that in fancie is not mispent. Be∣cause therefore this great Citie of Venice is holden Loues Paradize, thether doo I direct my pilgrimage, that seeing their passions, I may being a palmer, win them to penance, by shewing the miseries that Venus mi••eth with her mo∣mentarie contents: if not, yet I shall carrie home to my countrimen salues to cure their sores; I shal see much, heare little, and by the insight into other mens extreames, re∣turne both the more warie and the more wise. What I see at Venice (sir) and what I note there, when I returne back, I meane to visite you and make you priuie to all.

The héedfull Host hauing iudiciallie vnderstoode the pi∣tifull report of the palmer, giuing truce to his passions with the teares he spent, and resolued to requite that thankfullie which he had attended heedfullie, gaue this Catastrophe to his sad and sorrowfull discourse. Palmer, thou hast with the Kitrell foreshewed the storme ere it comes, painting out the shapes of loue as liuely, as the Grapes in Zeuxis Tables were pourtraied cunningly; thou hast lent youth Egle eyes to behold the Sunne; Achilles sword to cut and recure, leauing those medicines to salue others, that hath

lost thy selfe, and hauing burnt ••hy wings with t••e 〈…〉〈…〉 dallying too long with th•• ••••re•• thou hast bequeathe•• other•• a lesson with the Unicorne to preuent poyson by preserues before thou tast with the lippe. The onely request I make in requit••ll of my attention, is, that thou leaue certaine te∣stimonies on these walles, where••n whensoeuer I looke, I shall remember Francescos follies and thy foresight.

The Palmer estéeming the courteous replie of his hos••, and desirous to satisfie his request, drawing bloud from the vaine Cephalia, (on an arch of white Iuorie erected at the ende of an Arbour, adorned with Honysuckles and Roses) he wrote thus with a pencell.

In greener yeares when as my greedie thoughts Gan yeeld their homage to ambitious will, My feeble wit that then preuailed noughts, Perforc•• presented homage to his ill: And I in follies bonds fulfild with crime, At last vnloosd: thus spide my losse of time.

As in his circuler and ceaseles ray The yeare begins, and in it selfe retu••nes Refresht by presence of the eye of day, That sometimes ni•• and sometimes farre soiournes: So loue in me (conspiring my decay) With endles fire my heedles bosome burnes, And from the end of my aspiring sinne, My paths of error hourely doth begin.

[illustration]

Aries.

When in the Ram the Sunne renewes his beames, Beholding mournfull earth araid in griefe, That waigh•• ••eliefe from his refreshing gleames, The tender flockes r••ioycing their reliefe Doo leape for ioy and lap the siluer streames. So a•• my prime when youth in me was chiefe, All Heifer like with wanton horne I playd, And by my will my wit to loue betrayd.

[illustration]

Taurus.

When Phoebus with Europas bearer bides, The Spring appeares, impatient of delaies The labourer to the fields his plow swaynes guides, He sowes, he plants, he builds at all assaies, When prime of yeares that many errors hides, By fancies force did trace vngodly waies, I blindfold walkt disdayning to behold, That life doth vade, and yong men must be old.

[illustration]

Gemini.

When in the hold whereas the Twins doo rest, Proud Phlaegon breathing fire doth post amaine: The trees with leaues, the earth with flowers is drest: When I in pride of yeres with peeuish braine Presum'd too farre and made fond loue my guest; Wi••h frosts of care my flowers were nipt amaine. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 height of weale who beares a careles hart, R••pents too late his ouer foolish part.

[illustration]

Cancer.

When in Aestiuall Cancers gloomie bower, The greater glorie of the heauens dooth shine; The aire is calme, the birds at euerie stowre To tempt the heauens with harmonie diuine. When I was ••irst inthrald in Cupids powre, In vanei I spent the May-month of my time•• Singing for ioy to see me captiue thrall To him, whose gaines are griefe, whose cōfort smal.

[illustration]

Leo.

When in the height of his Meridian walke The Lions holde conteines the eye of day, The riping corne growes yeolow in the stalke, When strength of yeares did blesse me euerie way. Maskt with delights of follie was my talke, Youth ripened all my thoughts to my decay: In lust I sowde, my frute was losse of time; My hopes were proud, and yet my bodie slime.

[illustration]

Virgo.

When in the Virgins lap earths comfort sleepes, Bating the furi•• of his burning eyes, Both corne and frutes are firmd, & cōfort creepes On euerie plant and flowre that springing rise: When age at last his chiefe dominion keepes, And leades me on to see my vanities; What loue and scant foresight did make me sow•• In youthfull yeares, is ripened now in woe.

[illustration]

Libra.

When in the Ballance Daphnes Lemman blins The Ploughman gathereth frute for passed paine: When I at last considered on my sinnes, And thought vpon my youth and follies vaine; I cast my count, and reason now begins To guide mine eyes with iudgement, bought with paine, Which weeping wish a better way to finde, Or els for euer to the world be blinde.

[illustration]

Scorpio.

When with the Scorpion proud Apollo plaies•• The wines are trode and carried to their presse, The woods are f••ld gainst winters sharp affraies: When grauer yeares my iudgements did addresse, I gan repaire my ruines and decaies: Exchanging will to wit and soothfastnesse: Claiming from Time and Age no good but this, To see my sinne, and sorrow for my misse.

[illustration]

Sagittarius.

When as the Archer in his Winter holde The Delian Harper tunes his wonted loue, The ploughman sowes and tills his labored molde; When with aduise and iudgement I approue, How Loue in youth hath griefe for gladnes solde, The seedes of shame I from my heart remooue, And in their steads I set downe plants of Grace And with repent bewailde my youthfull race.

[illustration]

Capricornus.

When he that in Eurotas siluer glide Doth baine his tresse, beholdeth Capricorne, The daies growes short, then hasts the winter tide The Sun with sparing lights doth seem to mourn, Gray is the green, the flowers their beautie hides: When as I see that I to death was borne, My strength decaide, my graue alreadie drest, I count my life my losse, my death my best.

Aquarius.

[illustration]

When with Aquarius Phoebes brother staies, The blythe and wanton windes are whist & still, Colde frost and snow the pride of earth betraies: When age my head with hoarie haires doth fill, Reason sits downe, and bids mee count my dayes, And pray for peace, and blame my froward will: In depth of griefe in this distresse I crie, Peccaui Domine, miserere mei.

[illustration]

Pisces.

When in the Fishes mansion Phoebus dwells, The dayes renew, the earth regaines his rest: When olde in yeares, my want my death foretells: My thoghts & praiers to heauē are whole addrest Repentance youth by follie quite expells, I long to be dissolued for my best, That yong in zeale long beaten wi••h my rod, I may grow old to wisedome & to God.

The palmer had no sooner finished his circle, but the Host ouer read his conceipt, and wonde∣ring at the excellencie of his wit, from his ex∣perience began to suck much wisedome, & bee∣ing verie loath to detaine his guest too long: af∣ter they had broken their fast, and the goodman of the ••ouse courteouslie had giuen him thankes for his fauor, the Palmer set forward towards Venice: what there he did, or howe hee liued, when I am aduertised (good Gentlemen) I will send you tidings. Meane while, let euerie one learne (by Francescoes fall) to beware, least at last (too late) they be enforced to bewaile.