Laura The toyes of a traueller. Or The feast of fancie. Diuided into three parts. By R.T. Gentleman.

The third Part.

I.

WHo ioyes in Loue? the Hart alone, to see. Who languisheth in Loue? the Hart alone. Then ist a thing impossible for mee To ioy or languish, since I Hart haue none. Withouten Hart? then tel me, what am I? Euen bones and flesh vnited cunningly. The Soule, where ist? Loue that hathtane away, My Bodie onely resteth in his place. Depriu'd of Soule and Hart, how liue? I say, I liue (maintaind by Loue) in this strange case. O wonder strange, the Bodie liue to see, The Hart and Soule in other place to bee.

Napoli.

II.

That Crimson Gowne (with drops of blood ywrought) Which Laura weares, a token is most true; How that of blood desirous is her Thought, And that tis so, I best can tell to you. My wronged Hart too well doth finde the same, Who thousand times, not once hath wronged been By her; and now, to aggrauate my paine, (More cruell in desire for to be seene By outward habit) couets shee to show, What (inward) in her minde she hides below.

III.

The flaming Torch (a shadow of the light) Put out by hastie hand, doth colour change, And blacke becomes, which seemd before most bright: Nor so to show is anie meruaile strange: So was I long a liuely fire of loue, The heate whereof my Bodie oft did proue, But I, at last (by one who moand my woe) Extinguisht was, by Pitifull Disdaine: Then if my colour blacke in face doo show, You need not much to wonder 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the same, Since tis a Signe (by part to know the whole) That Loue made mee a Fire, Disdaine a Cole.

IIII.

Pardned of euerie wicked fact was hee To Hebes Temple that with praiers came, And of such grace (in signe) his Bonds (as free) He left hung vp on high within the same. I (Ladie) erred haue, and humbly come To thee, who art the Temple faire of loue, Offring to thee my praiers all and some, To free me from my faults thy hart let moue: In token of which Gift, with thee Ile leaue My ielous thoughts, wherewith I did thee grieue.

V.

If thou art cold as is the winters snow, I as the Summer hot am, most extreame: Then lets vnite thy hart which cold is so To mine so warme, and make of both a Meane: So th'one a helpe to th'other still shall bee: And linckt in Concord, as two Doues shall gree. To forme this Frame, Loue shall the work-man play, Then lets with Iuly Ianuary mix Lets make betweene vs an eternall May, An euerlasting truce vs twaine betwix: Thy Winter with my Summer let vs ioyne: My fire so warme, with frost so cold of thine.

VI.

The cruell New vsde on golden hooke The harmlesse fish to catch with sugred baite: So, curteous Loue, fishing me quickly tooke, Whilst he with daintie pray for me did waite: Yet farre more fortunate am I in this, For whereas Neroes hookes most sharpe did kill, The other hookes reuiue the taken fish, Whilst they doo hold him gently by the gylls. But hooks they are none, for hooks they are too faire, Two golden tresses be they of fine haire.

VII.

When She was borne, she came with smiling eye Laughing into the world, a signe of glee; When I was borne (to her quite contrarie) Wayling I came into the world to see. Then marke this wonder strange: what Nature gaue From first to th'last this fashion kept we haue. She in my sad laments doth take great ioy, I through her laughing die, and languish must, Vnlesse that Loue (to saue me from this noy) Doo vnto mee (vnworthy) shew so iust As for to change her laughter into paine, And my complaints into her ioy againe.

VIII.

In Loue his Kingdome great, two Fooles there bee▪ My Ladie's one, my selfe the other am: The fond behauiour of both which to see, Who so but nicely markes, will say the same: Foolish our thoughts are, foolish our desire, Foolish our harts in Fancies flame to frie, Foolish to burne in Loues hot scortching fire. But what? Fooles are we none, my tung do••th lie: For who most foolish is and fond in loue, More wiser farre than others, oft doth proue.

IX.

No sooner Laura mine appeares to mee, But that a daintie Dye, a blushing Red, In both our faces sheweth for to bee: But who (alas) doth mine so ouer-spred? Ore-feruent loue doth draw this shadow pure, Like cunningst Painter long for to endure. VVho painteth hers? Disdaine with pencill hard, VVhich turneth all my sweetnes into sower: So that all my designes are quickly mard, Except Loue bind loue (by his awfull power) In Faiths firme bands: too hie th'exchange will grow, VVhen loue for hate, and not for like shall goe.

X.

Phoebus had once a Bird, (his chiefe delight) VVhich (onely cause he had an euill tung) He made him blacke, who was before most white: So if all those who louers true haue stung VVith spitefull speach, and haue their loues betraid, Or to their ladies false bee and vntrue, (Setting at nought the promise they haue made) Loue would but change into this cole-blacke hieu: Thousands abroad like sea-cole Crowes should show, VVho (now vnknowen) for snowie Swannes doo goe.

XI.

In siluer streame, on shallow fountaines shelfe, The liuely image saw he in the same, Who was in loue with shadow of himselfe, Through pride, forgetfull how his likenes came: Such one my selfe (by chance) I see to bee, When as in Riuer I myselfe did see. Yet I, my selfe insted of louing hate, And such strange hatred is this, and so strong, That while he (louing) dyde by iustest ••ate Himselfe by seeing, (whilst he himselfe did wrong): I die will vnto him contrarie cleene, Cause I (hating my self) my self too much haue seene.

XII.

Ioy of my soule, my blindfold eyes cleere light, Cordiall of hart right Methridate of loue, Fai••e orient Pearle, bright shining Margarite, Pure Quintessence of heauens delight aboue, VVhen shall I taste what fauour graunts me tuch, And ease the rage of nune so sharpe desire? VVhen shall I free enioy what •• so much Doo couer, (but I doubt in vaine) to aspire? Ah doo not still my Soule thus Tantalize, But once (through grace) the same imparadize.

XIII.

Painter, in liuely colours draw Disdaine. Doost aske how that may rightly shadowed bee? Ile tell thee, if thou (fine) wilt doo the same My Ladie paint, and thou Disdaine shalt see. Fond man, dost not beleeue? or thinkst I iest? If doubtfull thou remaine, then heare the rest. Marke her but well, and thou shalt in her face See right Disdaine, which comming from her eyes, Makes her to looke with most disdainfull grace: Then if thou seest it in so plaine a guise, Straight shadow her: for this one Counterfaite Of her and of Disdaine shall show the shape.

XIIII.

VVith gold and rubies glistereth her small hand: But if you match them with her lips or haire, They seeme withouten brightnes to stand, The other haue such liuely colours faire. O worthie Beautie, peerlesse A PER SE, To whom all other Beauties are most vile▪ O fairnes such, as fairer none can bee, Thou Grace it selfe of graciousnes doost spoyle. VVith Rubies, thou right Rubies doost disgrace, VVith Gold bright Gold thou stainest in his place.

XV.

A gentle tame Deere am I, cald a HART, The cruell Huntresse fierce my Mistres is: VVith crosse-bow bent she comes to me in Parke, Palde in with pleasant thoughts of wanton wish: Shee shootes and hits mee, takes me for her pray; And hauing shot, hit, taken, flies her way. Backe she retires from mee with pleasant smile, Vnloosing mee, and heales my wound and paine; VVhen as afresh incenst (alacke the while) Gainst mee, desirous me to plague againe: She turnes towards me, ore-takes me, strikes me sore; And binding vp my wounds, makes deadly more.

XVI.

The golden tresses of a ladie faire At first beginning were of this my loue: But now at last vnto my dubble care, To be the end of my sad life I proue. Then did my doubtfull spirit liue in hope, But now he feares, despairing as it were, Because he doth perceiue in sudden broke His hope, which dying hart did helpe and beare: Since that the Haire, that Alpha me did binde In loue, of life Omega I doo finde.

XVII.

Sweet Laura, in the water looke no more, To see if feature thine be faire or no: Looke in mine eyes, which teares raine streamings so••e Of bitter plaints, whose water cleere doth show, As in a looking Glasse most bright to thee, Those fauours which in that sweet visage bee. So said I to her, when she answered bliue: And thou my loue, say, dost thou likewise wish To see thy selfe in one that is aliue? Then in this Brest, looke where thine Image is: Loue shall alike in both our bodies rest, Beare thou mee in thine eyes, Ile thee in brest.

XVIII.

If (Cruell) thou desirous art of blood, Behold how I doo bleed in streaming wise: Glut then thy selfe therewith if thou thinke good, And doo content with blood thy bloodie eyes. From brest it comes, where fainting hart doth lye, And (for a gift) I it present to thee, Although I know (through this) I soone shall dye: (And yet to die it little grieueth mee) Since tis my wish, my blood with soule as one May rest, and that's with thee, or els with none.

XIX.

That Iuorie hand a Fanne most white doth hold, And to the milkie Brest blowes winde apace: (And yet is full of chilly yee most cold) Disgrace to others, to her selfe a grace. But I who wistly marke these whitenes three, Vouchsafe (sweet loue) this boone to graunt to mee. Distill within the rouling of mine eyes (By vertue of thy power) such hidden flame•• And let it tempred be in such strange wise, That as I cast my looke vpon the same, It quite may take away her crueltie, Melt straight the Ice, and Fanne burne suddenly.

XX.

The Snakes (amongst themselues) so carefully Loue one another, (wonder for to see) As if th'one want, the other straight doth dye: Ladie, vnto these Snakes vnlike we bee. For if I die, thou di'est not for my death, But through my paine reuiu'st: such is thy spite, And pleasure takst to see me voyd of breath. Ah, yet in loue lets vnto them be like. Thou Cupid worke, that I (poore Snake in loue) This ••dainfull Snake for to be kinde may moue.

XXI.

Laura is faire and cruell both in one, And borne was of a daintie Diamond: Then is it meruaile neither wonder none, Although her hart as hard as stone be found. Nature that hardnes (as a Keeper) gaue To her, her Beautie thereby so to saue. But fond is he, and simple in concaite, That thinkes Loue will not one day burst the same: Then quickly (mightie Lord) quickly this breake, Breake thou this stonie hart so hard in twaine, Vnto thy power let Natures force still yeeld, And be thou Conquerour gainst her in field.

XXII.

The snow-white Swan betokens brightsome Day, The cole-blacke Crow of darkie Night is signe, Thou Day or Night bring vnto mee still may With those bright lampes, those glistering stars of thine. But (cruell thou) thy hart is bent so hard, As I that Sunne can neuer see with eyes (That wishd for Sun, from these my lights debard, Nor ought discerne, but mists in foggie wise. Then since I liue in woe (and blinde) naught see, A Crow not Swan thou still shalt be to mee.

XXIII.

Say Cupid, since thou wings so swift doost beare, Within my hart (alone) why doost thou lye? Why doost not seeke to lodge some other where, And to some other place why doost not hye? Goe vnto her who hath the Lilly brest, Who though she hates mee, yet I loue her best. If her to entertaine thee thou shalt finde, It is a signe she hateth mee no more▪ Straight then returne againe, and show her minde To my Desire, who for this newes longs sore. Then pre thee goe, no longer lingring stay, Least when thou wouldst thou canst not goe thy way..

XXIIII.

On Quicksedge wrought with louely Eglantine My Laura laid her handkercher to drie, (Which had before snow white ywashed bin) But after, when she cald to memorie, That long twold be before, and verie late Ere Sunne could doo, as would her glistering eyes: She cast from them such sparkling glaunces straite, And with such force, in such a strangie guise; As suddenly, and in one selfe same time, She dryde her cloth, but burnt this hart of mine.

XXV.

Gold vpon gold mine onely Ioy did plate, Whilst she did dresse her head by christall Glasse: But whilst she lookt on it, it sodaine brake; So (as amazde thereat) much grieud she was. To whom I said; To grieue thus tis in vaine, Since what is broke, whole cannot be againe. Looke stedfastly with both thine eyes on mee, Who haue my hart (through Loue) a glasse new made: She on my face lookt, and her selfe did see: Wherewith (contented throughly) thus she said, Most happie I, since for to dresse my hed, For broken glasse, of whole one I am sped.

XXVI.

The Heauens begin with thunder for to breake The troubled Aire, and to the coloured Fields The Lightning for to spoyle their pride dooth threat, Each thing vnto the furious Tempest yeelds. And yet me thinkes within mee I doo heare A gentle voyce hard at my hart to say, Feare nothing thou, but be of merrie cheere, Thou onely safe fore others all shalt stay: To saue thee from all hurt, thy Shield shall bee, The shadow of the conquering Laurall Tree.

Fano.

XXVII.

Loue this faire Lasse (said Loue) once vnto mee, I lou'd her; loue her now (saith he) no more, When thousand darts within my brest there bee, And if I loue her, he mee threatneth sore: He saith himselfe is falne in loue with her, And that himselfe ••ore others hee'l prefer. His sense is this, He in her beauteous eyes, Hath found such Amours as nere like were seene: But thinkes he this shall serue, in cunning wise To make mee leaue, he cousning me so cleene? In spite of him Ile loue, sith hart doth gree With Loue in loue, as Riuall for to bee.

XXVIII.

My Mistres (writing) as her hand did shake The Pen did dash, which on her gowne did spurt: One drop more higher than the rest did take, And to presume to touch her Brest it durst. Vpon her daintie bosome it did light, Wherewith she blusht, in show like damaske Rose: Presumptuous Blacke, how dar'dst thou tuch that White▪ Wherein a world of gladsome pleasure growes? Yet (spite of enuie) hapt it for the best, To the white more grace, more bewtie twas to th'brest

XXIX.

None dares now look more on my Lauras face, So dangerous is her beautie to behold: For he no sooner giues to her the gaze, But straight his hart she takes from him so bold: Such vertue's lockt within those ebbon Eyes, Where (dallying with Delight) Dan Cupid lyes. So sweetly rouleth shee that radiant Spheare, As she (from whom she lists) robs suddenly: So as to looke on her each one doth feare, And yet to looke on her spare will not I: For though I loose my Hart, and him disease, I like shall my Desire, and her Ile please.

XXX.

Vnbare that Iuorie hand, hide it no more, For though it death brings to my tender hart, To see it naked, where is beauties store, And where moyst Pearle with Azure doth impart: Yet feare I not to dye in this sweet wise, My fancie so to see't, is set on fire: Then leaue that Gloue, most hatefull to mine eyes, And let me surfet with this kinde Desire; So that my lookes may haue of them their fill, Though hart decay, Ile take it for none ill.

Mantoa.

XXXI.

My Mistres seemes but browne (say you) to mee. Tis verie true, and I confesse the same: Yet loue I her, although that browne she bee, Because to please me she is glad and faine. I loued one most Beautifull before, Whom now (as Death) I deadly doo abhore. Because to scorne my seruice her I found, I gaue her ore, and chose to mee this same: Nor to be faithfull (thinke I) I am bound To one in whom no kindnes doth remaine: This is the cause, for Browne and Pittifull, I left a faire, but yet a faithlesse Trull.

XXXII.

White art thou like the mountaine snow to see, I blacke like to the burned coale doo show: Then giue some of thy purest white to mee, And Ile some of my Blacke on thee bestow. So will wee these two Contraries vnite Together, which so ioynd will show more faire: Lets both then make this change for our delight, Vnlesse to kill mee thou doo little care. But why of white or blacke talke I to thee? My blood not blacke tis, which thou faine wouldst see.

XXXIII.

As Sacrifice vnto a Goddesse bright My hart I offered with Deuotion great, Thinking that She Loues Temple had been right. But what vnwares I spide not then in heate, I (warie) now discerne her for to bee Of Hell below the rightest crueltee. I was deceiud, I doo confesse: That smile, That wanton smile that bred in me delight, Hid in those lips so faire did mee beguile: O Beautie false, O crueltie most right. Flee flee (my Hart) flee then if thou be wise, Thy hurt, my burning heate, her trecheries.

XXXIIII.

Strange is this thing, my Horse I cannot make VVith spurre, with speech, nor yet with rod in hand Force him to goe, although great paines I take, Doo what I can, he still as tyrde doth stand: No doubt he feeles an heauie weight of mee, VVhich is the cause he standeth still as stone: Nor is he ware that now he carrieth three, He thinkes (poore lade) I am on's backe alone: But three we are with mine owne selfe I proue, Laura is in my Hart, in Soule is Loue.

Pesaro.

XXXV.

When I of my sweet Laura leaue did take, Faire Fanos Cittie for a while to leaue: Shee gaue to mee (to weare it for her sake) Of gold and pearle a daintie wouen Wreathe. Deere was the gift, because for loue it came; But deerer more, cause Shee gaue me the same. I looke on't still, and kisse it as my ioy; Kissing and bussing it, with it I play: Which at one instant brings me mirth and noy. And sighing oft, thus to my selfe I say; White pearls are these, yet hath her mouth more faire; Fine gold is this, yet finer is her haire.

Fano.

XXXVI.

With thousand bands of furious inward heate Loue bindes my Sowle, and burnes my gentle hart: And two wayes Laura death to mee doth threate, With colour fresh, and wanton eye like dart▪ This for reward for all my loue I gaine, For my good will two Enemies I haue, Laura and Loue: foure plagues conspire my paine, Because I like, and whats but iust doo craue; Fire, Roseall colour, Eyes, and crull Band: These at the gaze of Beautie make me stand.

XXXVII.

If scalding sighes my faith may testifie, And brinish teares of Loue may warrant bee: Both th'one and th'other thou hast seene with eye! Then what wouldst haue (hard Harted) mo••e of mee? But thou (perhaps) though much I haue endured; Wouldst yet be better of my saith assured. Then with thine eyes into my brest doo peere, (VVhich for the nonce I leaue to open sight) And that which now thou doubtst, see shalt thou cleere Ah, marke it then; and view what showes so bright. But too too cruell art thou and precise, That wilt not crdite giue to thine own eyes.

XXXVIII.

The haplesse Argus (happie in this same) The glorie of the Sunnes surpassing light, The brightnes of the Starres (the fire which staine) VVith hundred eyes behold them alwayes might. But I (alas) who haue but onely twaine, Cannot behold the Beautie of my Sunne: For which I liue as blinde in endlesse paine, And count my selfe for want thereof vndone. I can but wish that I an Argus were, VVith hundred eyes to view her euerie where.

XXXIX.

In vastie Sea, faine would my slender Muse VVade in thy praise, to praise thy beautie right: But (Ladie) I for pardon craue excuse, To breake such waues too brittle is her might: Meane time with lowly Verse, in humble show, A long the shallow shoare Ile wading goe. The time may come (perhaps) ere it be long, That this my quill more bold may write thy praise, And venter for to sayle in th'Ocean strong, Though now on graueld shore it fearfull staies. And where as now to dip his foote he feares, He then shall diue himselfe ore head and eares.

Fano.

XL.

VVhen I did part, my Soule did part from mee, And tooke his farewell of thy beauteous Eyne: But now that I (returned) doo thee see, He is returnd, and liues through kindnes thine, And of thee looketh for a welcome home. I then not anie more to sorrow need, Now I am come: and if before alone On shadow then, on substance now I feed. So, if my parting bitter was and sad, Sweete's my returne to thee, and passing glad.

The Conclusion of the last Part.

TImantes when he saw he could not paint With liuely colours (to his lasting fame) Such workes he tooke in hand, and found too faint His c••••ning, seeking for to hide the same, He ouer them a subtill shadow drew: So that his faults, or none or few could view. So Ladie, I finding my wit too weake, With currant tearmes your beautie foorth to blaze, And that to arriue too blunt is my conceit Vnto the height of your surmounting praise: With silence forced am (against my will) To shadow my defect, (the want of skill). Yet doo I hope, the shadow you'l not scorne, Since Princes in their stately Arbors greene Account of shade, as trees which frute adorne, Because from heate they welcome shelters been. The Shadow shields gainst Sunne your beautie faire, VVhich else his scortching heate would much impaire, Then though a Shadow without frute I bee, And scarce yeeld leaues to couer this my barke: Accept these leaues thy Beauties Shade of mee, VVhere wealth doth ebbe, good will doth flow from Hart: Deigne me for all my loue but Shadow thine, Thy Substance's too too high for Fortune m••ne.

R. T.