Epitaphes, epigrams, songs and sonets with a discourse of the friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman.

The Louer to Cupid for mercie, declaring how first he became his thrall, with the occasion of his defiyng Loue, and now at last what caused him to conuert.

O Mightie Lorde of Loue Dame Venus onely ioy,

Whose Princely powre doth farre surmount all other heauenly Roy: I that haue swarude thy lawes and wandred farre astray: Haue now retyrde to thée againe thy statutes to obay. And so thou wouldst vouchsafe to let me pleade for grace: I would before thy Barre declare a sielie Louers case. I would depaint at full how first I was thy man: And show to that what was the cause that I from Cupid ran. And how I haue since that yspent my wéerie time: As I shall tell, so thou shalt here declarde in doolefull rime. In gréene and tender age (my Lorde) till .xvij. yeares, I spent my time as fitted youth in Schole among my Féeares As then no Bearde at all was growne vpon my Chin, Which well approoude that mans estate I was not entred in. I neede not tell the names of Authors which I read,

Of Proes and Verse we had inough to fine the dullest head. But I was chiefly bent to Poets famous Art, To them with all my deuor I my studie did conuert. Where when I had with ioy yspent my time a while: The reast refusde, I gaue me whole to Nasos Noble stile. Whose volumes when I saw with pleasant stories fright: In him (I say) aboue the rest I laide my whole delight. What should I here reherse with base and barraine Pen, The lincked tales and filed stuffe that I pervsed then? In fine it was my loare vpon that part to light Wherein he teacheth youth to loue, and women win by slight Which Treatise when I had with iudging eie suruayde: At last I found thy Godly kynde and Princely powre displayde. Of Cupid all that Booke and of his raigne did ring,

The Poet there of Venus did in sugred Dittie sing. There read I of thy shafts and of thy golden Bow, Thy shafts which by their diuers heads their diuers kindes did show. I saw how by thy force thou madest men to stoope: And grisely Gods by secret slight and Deuilish Imps to droope. There were depainted plaine thy quick and quiuer wings, And what so else doth touch thy powre there Ouid swéetely sings. There I thy Conquests sawe and many a noble spoile: With names annexed to the same of such as had the foile. There Matrones marcht along and Maydens in their Roe, Both Faunes and Satyrs there I saw with Neptuns troupe also. With other thousands else which Naso there doth write, But not my Pen or barraine Skull is able to recite. O mightie Prince (quoth I) of such a fearefull force,

How blest were I, so thou of mée wouldst daine to take remorce? And choose mée for thy thrall among the rest to bee, That liue in hope and serue in trust as waged men to thée? With that (thy Godhead knowes) thou gauste a freindly looke: And (though vnwoorthie such a place) mée to thy seruice tooke. In token I was thine I had a badge of Blue With Sabels set, and charge withall that I should aye be true. Thou badste me follow Hope who tho thy Ensigne bare. And so I might not doe amisse, thus didst thy selfe declare. Then who reioyst but I? who thought himselfe yblist? That was in Cupids seruice plaste as brauely as the best? And thus in lustie youth I grue to be your thrall, And was (I witnesse of thy Dame) right well content withall. But now I minde to shewe (as promisse was to doe)

How first I fled thy Tents, and why thy campe I did forgoe. When I had bene retainde well nigh a yeare or more, And serude in place of wage and méede as is the Souldiars lere: I chaunst by hap to cast my floting eies awrie, And so a Dame of passing shape my fortune was to spie. On whome Dame Nature thought such beautie to bestowe, As she had neuer framde before as proufe did plainely showe. On hir I gazde a while till vse of sense was fled: And colour Paper white before was woxen Scarlet red. I felt the kindled sparkes to flashing flames to growe: And so on sodaine I did loue the Wight I did not knowe. Then to thy Pallace I with frowarde foote did run, And what I saide, I mynde it yet, for thus my tale begun. O Noble Sir (quoth I) is this your free assent

I should pursue a Game vnknowne within your stately Tent? If so (quoth I) thou wilt, and giuste the same in charge: I mynde of all my brydled lust to let the Raynes at large. Then (Hope) did prick mée forth and bad mee be of chéere: Who said I should within a while subdue my Noble Feere. He counselde mee to shun no dreadfull daungers place, But follow him who Banner bore vnto your Noble grace. He would maintaine my right and further aye my cause, And bannish all dispaire that grewe by frowarde fortunes flawes. Tis Cupids will (quoth hée) our Maister and our Lorde That thou with manly hart and hand shouldst lay the Barck aborde. She shall not choose but yéelde the fruite for passed paines: For shée is one of Cupids thralls, and bound in Venus Chaines. Thinkst thou our maister will his seruant liue in woe?

No not for all his golden Darts ne yet his crooked Bowe. Wherefore with luckie Mart giue charge vnto the Wight: Take Speare in hande, and Targe on arme, and doe with courage fight. With that, I armde me well as fits a warring man, And to the place of friendly fight with lustie foote I ran. My Foe was there before I came vnto the fielde, I thought Bellona had bene there or Pallas with hir shielde. So well shée was beset with Plate and priuie Maile, As for my life my limber Launce might not a whit preuaile. Yet naythelesse with Speare and Shielde, we fought a space: But last of all we tooke our Bowes and Arrowes from the case. Then Dartes we gan to sling in wide and weightlesse Skies: And then the fiercest fight of all and combat did arise. In stead of shiuering shafts, light louing lookes we cast,

And there I founde my selfe too weake hir Arrowes went so fast. But one aboue the reast did cleaue my breast so farre, As downe it went, where lay my hart, and there it gaue a iarre. So cruell was the stroke, so sodaine eke the wounde, As by the fearefull force I fell into a senselesse sounde. Thus hauing no refuge to quite my selfe from death: I made a vowe to loue hir well whilst Lungs should lende me breath. And since that time I haue endeuorde with my might To win hir loue, but nought preuailes shée wayes it not a Mite. Shée skornes my yéelding hart, not forcing on my Hest: But by disdaine of cloudy browe doth further my vnrest. Yet ruthlesse though shée were, and farsed full of yre: I looude hir well as hart coulde think, or woman might desire. I sought to frame my speach and countnance in such sort,

As shée my couert hart myght sée by shewe of outwarde port. To Troilus halfe so true vnto his Creside was As I to hir, who for hir face did Troiane Creside passe. At length, when Reason saw mée sotted so in loue As I ne would, ne might at all my fansie thence remoue: Shée causde hir Trumpe be blowne to cyte hir seruants all Into the place, by whose aduise I might be rid from thrall. Then Plato first appearde with sage and solemne sawes: And in his hand a golden booke of good and gréekish lawes Whose honnie mouth such wise and weightie wordes did tell: Gainst thee and all thy troupe at once as Reason likte it well. When Platoes tale was done, then Tullie prest in place: Whose filed tongue with sugred talke would good a simple case. With open mouth I heard and Iawes ystrecht a wyde,

How he gainst Venus dearlings all and Cupids captiues cryde. Then Plutarch gan to preach and by examples proue, That thousand mischiefes were procurde by meane of guilefull loue. Whole Cities brought to spoyle, and Realmes to shamefull sack: Where Kings and Rulers good aduice by meane of Loue did lack? Next Plutarch, Senec came seuere in all his sawes: Who cleane defide your wanton tricks, and scornde your childish lawes. I néede not name the reast that stoode as then in place: But thousandes more there were that sought your Godhead to deface. When all the Hall was husht, and Sages all had donne: Then Reason that in iudgement sate hir skilfull talke begonne. Gramercie Friends (quoth shee) your counsell lykes me well: But now lend eare to Reasons wordes and listen what I tell. What madnesse may be more than such a Lorde to haue,

Who makes the chieftaine of his bande a ruke and raskall slaue? Who woonted is to yeelde in recompence of paine, A ragged recompence God w••te that turnes to méere disdaine? Who gladly would ensue a Conduct that is blinde? Or thrall himselfe to such a one as shewes himselfe vnkinde? What Ploughman would be glad to sowe his séede for gaine, And reape when Haruest time comes on but trauaile for his paine? What madman might endure to watch and warde for nought? To ride, to runne, and last to loose the recompence he sought? To waste the day in wo, and restlesse night in care, And haue in stead of better foode but sobbing for his fare? To bleare his eies with brine and salted teares yshead: To force his fainting flesh to fade, his colour pale and dead? And to foredoe with carke his wretched witherde hart?

And so to bréede his bitter bale and hatch his deadly smart? I speake it to this fine, that plainely might appere Cupidos craft and guilefull guise to him that standeth here. Whose eies with fansies mist and errors cloudes are dim, By meane that hée in Venus Lake and Cupids goulfe doth swim. And hath by sodaine sight of vnacquainted shape So fixt his hart, as hope is past for euer to escape. Vnlesse to these my wordes a listning eare hée lende: Which oft art woont the Louers minde and fansie to offende. But he that would his health sowre Sirops must assay: For erie griefe hath cure againe by cleane repugnaunt way. And who so mindes to quite and rid himselfe from wo, Must séeke in time for to remoue the thing that hurtes him so. For longer that it lastes it frets the farder in

Vntill it growe to curelesse maine by passing fell and skin. The Pyne that beares his head vp to the haughtie Skie, Would well haue béene remooude at first as daylie proofe doth trie: Which now no force of man nor engine may subuart: So wyde the créeping rootes are run by Natures subtile Art: So Loue by slender sleight and little paine at furst Would haue béene stopt, but hardly now though thou wouldst doe thy wurst, The woonted saw is true, shun Loue, and Loue will flée, But follow Loue and spite thy nose then Loue will follow thée. And though such graffed thoughts on sodaine may not die, Ne be forgone: yet processe shall their farther grouth destrie. No Giaunt for his lyfe can cleaue a knarrie Oke, Though he would séeke to doe his wurst and vtmost at a stroke: But let the meanest man haue space to sell him downe,

And he will make him bende his head and bring his boughes to grownde. No force of falling showre can pierce the Marble stone, As will the often drops of raine that from the gutters gone. Wherefore thou retchlesse man my counsell with the mo Is, that thou péecemeale doe expell the loue that paines thée so. Renounce the place where shée doth make soiourne and stay: Force not hir trayning truthlesse eies, but turne thy face away. Thinke that the hurtfull hooke is couerde with such baite: And that in such a pleasant plot the Serpent lurcks in waite. Waie well hir scornefull chéere, and think shée seekes thy spoile: And though thy conquest were atchiude may not acquite thy toile: Not ydle sée thou bee, take aye some charge in hande: And quickly shalt thou quench the flame of carelesse Cupids brande. For what (I pray you) bred Aegisthus fowle defame?

And made him spoken of so yll? what put him to the shame? What forcde the Foole to loue. his beastly ydle lyfe Was cause that he besotted was of Agamemnons Wyfe. If he had fought in field encountring with his Foe, On stately stéede, or else on foote with glaue had giuen the bloe: If he that Lecher lewde had warlick walles assailde With Cannon shot, or bownsing Ram his fenced enmies quailde: He had not felt such force of vile and beastly sin, Cupidos shafts had fallen short if he had busie bin. What Myrrha made to loue, or Byblos to desire To quench the heate of hungrie lust and flames of filthy fire? What Canace enforcde to frie with frantick brands, In sort as vp to yéeld hir selfe vnto hir brothers hands? And others thousand mo of whome the Poets wright?

Nought else (good fayth) but for they had in ydle thoughts delight. They spent their youthfull yeares in foule and filthie trade, They busied not their ydle braines but God of Pleasure made. Wherefore if thou (I say) dost couet to auoyde That bedlam Boyes deceitfull Bowe that others hath anoyde: Eschewe the ydle lyfe, flée, flée from doing nought: For neuer was there ydle braine but bred an ydle thought. And when those stormes are past and cloudes remooude away: I know thou wilt on (Reason) think and minde the words I say. Which are:* 1.1 that Loue is roote and onely crop of care, The bodies foe, the harts annoy, and cause of pleasures rare. The sicknesse of the minde, the Fountaine of vnrest: The goulfe of guile, the pit of paine, of griefe the hollow Chest. A fierie frost, a flame that frozen is with Ise,

A heauie burden light to beare, a Vertue fraught with Vice. It is a Warlike peace, a safetie set in dred, A deepe dispaire annext to hope, a famine that is fed. Sweete poyson for his taste, a Porte Charybdis léeke, A Scylla for his safetie thought, a Lyon that is méeke. And (by my Crowne I sweare) the longer thou dost loue, The longer shalt thou liue a Thrall as tract of time will proue. Wherefore retire in haste and spéede thée home againe, And pardned shall thy trespasse bée, and thou exempt from paine. Take Reason for thy guide as thou hast done of yore: And spite of Loue thou shalt not loue ne be a thrall no more. Repaire to Platos schoole, and Tullies true aduice: Let Plutarch be and Seneca thy teachers to be wise. This long and learned tale had broosed so my braine:

As I forthwith to reason ran, and gaue thee vp in plaine. Fie, fie on Loue quoth I, I now perceiue his craft: For Reason hath declarde at large how hee my fréedome raft, I sée his promise is farre fayrer than his paie: I finde how Cupid blearde mine eies, and made me run astraie. I wote how hungrie Hope hath led mée by the lip, And made mée mooue an endlesse sute well worth an Oken chip. Hée trainde mée all by trust, I farde as Hounde at hatch: The lesser fruite I founde, the more I was procurde to watch. Thus (mightie Lorde) I left thy lawes and statutes strong For rayling Reasons trifling talke, and offerd thée a wrong. But now Dame Venus knowes, and thou hir sonne canst tell That I within my couert hart doe loue thée passing well. Now fully bent to be (so thou wilt cleane put out

Of mind my passed iniuries) thy man and Souldier stout: Prest to obey thy will and neuer swarue againe, As long as Venus is of force and thou shalt kéepe thy Raigne. I weigh not Tullies tale, ne prating Platos talke: Let Plutarch vouch what Plutarch can, let skuruey Senec walke. Olde Ouid will I reade, whose pleasant wit doth passe The reast, as farre as stubborne Stéele excells the brittle Glasse. In him thy déedes of Armes and manly Marts appéere, In him thy stately spoyles are séene as in a Mirrour cléere. Thy mothers prayse and thine in him are to be founde, For conquestes which you had in Heauen and here bylow on grounde. Forgiue my former guilt, forget my passed toyes: And graunt I may aspire againe vnto my woonted ioyes. If euer man did loue or serue in better stoode,

Then shape my wagesse to the same and doe restraine my meede. But so I fight in fielde as fiercely as the best: I hope that then your Godhead will reward me with the rest.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Discomo∣dities of Loue.