Thule, or Vertues historie To the honorable and vertuous Mistris Amy Audely. By F.R. The first booke.

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Title
Thule, or Vertues historie To the honorable and vertuous Mistris Amy Audely. By F.R. The first booke.
Author
Rous, Francis, 1579-1659.
Publication
At London :: Printed by Felix Kingston, for Humfrey Lownes,
1598.
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http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A11081.0001.001
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"Thule, or Vertues historie To the honorable and vertuous Mistris Amy Audely. By F.R. The first booke." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A11081.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 29, 2025.

Pages

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CANT. 7. (Book 7)

Adonia goes t'auenge her Knight, After her charming nought preuailes: Deogin seeing Erona light, Amidst the waues his chance bewailes: Erona on the sea doth float, Chang'd by a charme into a boat.
WHen in th' Aegaeum of thy wandring dayes, Fortune full softly fils thy swelling saile, Let no Circaeas hinder quite thy wayes, Nor let her cups against thy heart preuaile, Then vertue of thy spotted soule decayes, Blinded in worldly pleasures clowdy vaile: This pleasing draught shall so bewitch thy will, Well mayst thou see the good, but doe the ill.
Which doth appeare in this most wretched wight, Who after Aidon had their Captaine slaine, Returneth to the dregges of fond delight, Hoping t'haue found their carpet knight againe, And bring her ancient customes new to light: But as she sought him with incessant paine, At last a mangled carcasse she had spide, With skarlet blood and filthie gore bedide.
As Peleus daughters, when they saw their sire Vanisht from earth into a gastly shade, Their raging thoughts rapt vp in furies gire, Curst heauen and earth, and that life-loosing blade, Damning that vgly witch to Orcus fire,* 1.1 And then themselues which first the motion made: So doth this furnace burning hellish flame, Breath curses gainst great heau'ns fate-ruling name.

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Foule fiends (quoth she) which gnash your fretting iawes, Enuying at mens dying felicitie, Goe, heeres a subiect for your rending clawes, Ascend to heauen and raze his hatefull eye, That bloody Sunne which with his influence drawes The tossed ship of life to miserie: With sulphure smoake darken each quenched starre, Which could behold this bloody act so farre.
And on your Dragon backs lift Neptune hye, Into the heauens with his watrie traine, That downe perpetuall showers still may flye, The fates vngentle power to complaine: Let earth decay, let all things earthly dye, Till with their moanes my loue returne againe: Inuest thee here ayr-ouerspreading Night, Now he is dead, all is none other light.
And take you vestures which black Stixes waue, Seuen times hath dyed in his sable flood, And let each starre a pitchy garment haue, And let these suits attire all heauens brood, Where in a progresse they shall mourning craue, The deare renewing of this blessed blood, And breake the distaffe of death-guiding fate, Loosing the soules from out hell prison gate.
But looke, the Sunne sends downe his smiling rayes, Laughing to scorne the sorrow of my heart, Words cannot bring him to his sweetest dayes, No power pities my tormenting smart: Therefore Ile try some soule-inchanting wayes, Whose might shall make the fates their doome reuart: And since they moue not with my mourning teares, With deadly charmes Ile pearce their glowing eares.

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Seuen dayes she mournd about her dearest loue, The seuenth night she wandred farre away, And all the sorts of liuely herbes did proue, Gathering the dew from leaues of springing bay, And all the spices which might calour moue, And Serpents skin which summer last did lay: Only she could not get a Deeres warme hart, Whose want confounded all her charming art.
Now back she goes, when as the wakened Sunne Gathred his horses from the Westerne plaine, And softly vp the Easterne mount did runne, When she vnto her Knight returnde againe, Where, when in order all her charme was done, She loos'th about her head her tressie traine: And laying in his mouth, and in his wound, Her charme she runneth seuen times around.
Then seuen times these words she doth repeate, By the great secrets which in Memphis lie, And by the bloody waues which Pharus beate, By three-formd Hecates great Deitie, By pitchy Stixes heauen-feared seate, And by the labours of thy Lunacie: Phoebe recur'd by Temesaean brasse, I charge this soule to come where first it was.
This sayd, a Christall glasse she foorth doth take, Holding it right against the shining Sunne, That beames contracted might a fire make, Whose smoake into a liuely soule might runne: The charme is kindled and he seemes to wake, But wanting force the charme is straight vndone: She did but trouble his affrighted ghost, Lacking the thing which helpe Medea most.

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Now sits she downe, all helpe and hope is gone, Reuenge can only now his soule acquite: Therefore on vengeance she doth thinke alone, To be reuenged on that holy Knight: And as she plots she spies an armed one, Ready prepar'd as seem'd for bloody fight; His loftie speare he doth aduance on hie, As though he menac'd warre vnto the skie.
This pecocke irond thus of euery side, A coward is vnfit of manly speare, Neuer in ought he hath his valour tride, But is so faint and humble slaue to feare, That when the shadow of his lance he spide, His fainting carcasse downward gan to beare: And if deaths thought had not him rousde away, No doubt for famine he should there decay.
And now he went into this filthie land, Where Knights but seldome vsde their prowesse trie, And now the mayd of him doth this demaund, That sharpe reuenge might quite this iniurie: Then lifting out his vow confirming hand, Lady (if this same caitife hidden lie Vnder the compasse of this emptie ayre) This hand thy losses fully shall repayre.
Out in Tartaria when a mightie hoast Encompast me: but then bespoke the mayd, No further of thy deedes I pray thee boast, Well doe I trust thee for thy gentle ayd, Though he had neuer been in any coast, Which in a new Meridian is layd: But trauersing the Iland vp and downe, Neuer did worthie deed in field nor towne.

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The mayd vp mounted led him in the way, Which to Sir Aidons fort directly brought: Where come by breaking of the blushing day, He bid the mayd stay back till he had fought, The battell which her foes in dust should lay: Which done, he very studious bethought, How he the battell any way might flie, Or if he fought, some place of flight espie.
Thus musing straight he sees the portall shut, And hoping none were remanent within, With speare he gaue the gates a mightie butt, And cryes, what are you fled for feare your sinne, Reueng'd with death my hungry speare should glut? Or of my comming haue fore warned bin? Then foorth Tigranes comes that furious Knight, And cryes, what peasant troubles my delight.
No harme (quoth he) forsooth an humble friend, Come to congratulate your victorie, And here this captiue mayd a pledge doe send, Yeelding her to you with humilitie: Let not I pray my boldnes you offend, But take this mayd a pledge of fealtie. The Knight appeasde, them gently entertaind, And they a place of rest haue now obtaind.
Now had Viceina past this bloody seat, And wandred thorow way-lesse woods and dales, VVhen in a vale a cottage she hath met, VVherein a Hermite still in prayer calles, To clense his soule and wickednesse forget, VVhose thought the thoughts of his sweet conscience galls: Thus did he spend the day and watch the night, Still listing vp for grace his troubled spright.

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Who seeing such a modest Lady by, Told her if cottage might not be disdaind, Nor herball fare which in his house dothly, Of him she gladly should be entertaind: Who finding comfort of extremity, Told him she gladly hath his lodging gaind: VVhere we will leaue them to their hearty prayer, And old mindes griefes with ioy new to repayre.
But see how fayre Erona chang'th her coat, And taught the seigniour with a cleerer breast, To sing his tunes vnto a higher note: She that but one night in his house would rest, Least wicked sinne her holy soule should blot, She thinks to tarie here is farre the best: And Deogin enamourd on her face, VVith many sports hath made her like the place.
But he is come vnto his wonted rate, His eyes are euer glistering with fire, He euer thinks she hath another mate, And other loues doe kindle her desire, VVhich often causeth strife and great debate, But she will gently quite her ielous sire: And since he stumbles thus without a stone, She meanes to giue him rocks to fall one.
Euen by this Castle Neptune once in loue Of a wood Nymph, did follow fast his game: But she to fly his kisses mainly stroue, And to her woods of harbour flying came: Neptune enrag'd, his trident mace vphoue, And mainly stroake the harbour of the Dame: The earth gan melt, and trees consum'd away, Neptune rusht in and caught the swimming Iay.

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So now a lake it is, once firmest land, And Knights much vsde to crosse this watry way: But once arriu'd a Knight vnto the strand, About the darkning of the conquerd day, And at this castle lodging did demand: The carle was loth, but threatnings did affray, That in he goes into that burning gate, The tragick actor of the churles fate.
When supper comes all doe themselues addresse, To saciate with foode their natures neede: But this grim sir doth sit all supperlesse, And on his gnawed guts apace doth feede, And when he eates, he mindeth nothing lesse: For on the Knight his eyes kept carefull heede, That sometimes when his meate he should deuide, The knife awry into his flesh doth slide.
Thus passeth foorth the prologue of his woe, But the next morne brings foorth his tragedie: For that same Knight his wife had handled so, That in a chamber now they both doe lie: But still Deogines goes to and fro, To see if he his louing mates can spie: At last he sees the flame whose firy dart Kindles the sulphure of his fueld hart.
About he runnes and cryes I burne I burne, And in black famine all his bones doth spend: At last vnto the riuer he doth turne, Thinking to giue this flame a watry end: But he so light is growne, each waue doth spurne, And any way his sliding course doth bend: At last fayre sayling with a Northerne blast, This barebond feend on Britains sands was cast.

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But now Erona will her course betake, As she was wont to lust and filthie shame; A whirty on that riuer she doth make, And she her selfe the passenger became, Ferrying each knight vpon that gulfie lake, That condiscends vnto her damned game: The rest by cunning of her ioynted boat, She layes in waues and makes ore bord to float.
For in two parts her boat she doth deuide, She in the first doth row, and that behinde VVith a sleight vise vnto the first is tide, VVhich with a pin she can both loose and binde: Now while vpon the waues they rowing slide, If any Knight resist her filthie minde, Then doth she loose her pin, he falleth downe, And drenching waues his haples carkasse drowne.
If he vnto her dalliance doe yeeld, Then doth she passe him safely to the land, And gently sets him on the other field: And thus her dayes consum'd like dustie sand, VVhich Boreas to and fro with blasts doth wield, And is not seene where it before did stand: So doth her body so her soule consume, Dide vgly black in sinnes still-reaking fume.
Nor doth her guilt escape vnpunisht quite; For as it fell this way her Captaine came, Old Bonauallant, once her deare delight, But now new-changed in another frame: VVho when she ferried, and with pleasing sight Woo'd to agree to deeds of black defame: He harkned not to her vntam'd desire, VVhich kindled in her breast reuenges fire.

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But he had spide how she with turning vice VVas loosing downe the dead-fall of her hate, And with a charme did crosse her first deuice, Giuing her punisht soule a new-found fate; Into a boat her breast, her legs, her thighs Are chang'd, and bound by charme for endles date: That since she had delighted still to carrie, Here in eternall carriage she should tarrie.
Her armes the oares do cut the fleeting sea, And passe each traueller to the furtherd side: Her face in which sweet beautie once did play, The plowed waues in furrowes doth deuide: So the Propaetides that common lay. And passers violence did still abide, Because their face no ruddie shame could print, VVere turned to a neuer blushing flint.
But let me quickly to Doledra flie, Vnles I thither make the greater hast, Fidamour homeward doth so hasty hie, That all the mariage will be ouer-past, The feast and triumphs of his victorie, And tilts vnto their latest day will wast: But I will after on my thoughts swift wing, And in triumphing tunes his trophees sing.

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