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.

To his Friend T: hauing bene long studied and well experienced, and now at length lo∣uing a Gentlewoman that forced him naught at all.

J Thought good fayth, & durst haue gagde my hand For you (Friend T.) y^e beautie should now hight Haue rasde your hart, nor Cupid with his brand Haue brought thy learned breast to such a plight. I thought Mineruas gift had beene of powre By holesome reade to roote this fansie out: But now I sée that Venus in an howre Can bend the best, and dawnt the wise and stoute. Why shouldst thou séeke to make y^e Tiger tame? To win a Woulfe so cruell by his kinde? To suffer Aesops Snake thou art to blame That stoong the man where he reliefe did finde. Is naught in hir but Womans name alone, No Woman sure she is, but Monster fell, That scornes hir friend, & makes him die w^t mone. Who makes an Idoll of a Diuell of Hell. Shée was cut out of some Sea beaten rock, Or taken from the cruell Lyons Tet, That féedes hir Friend for friendship with a mock And smiles to see him macht in Follies Net. If thou were wise (as thou art full of loue) Thou wouldst account hir beautie but a Glasse, And from thy hart such fansies fond remoue I loth to see the Lyon wex an Asse.

If so she were thy faithfull Friend in déede, And sought a salue to cure thy cruell sore, (As now shée séekes to make thy hart to bleede) Good fayth thou couldst account of hir no more. But waying now hir great abuse to thée A Friend to hir, but to thy selfe a Foe: Why shouldst thou loue, or so enamoured bée? Leaue off be time, let all such dotage goe. Should I imbrace the man that hates my life? Should I account of him that settes me light? Should I yeeld vp my throate to murthring Knife? Or séeke for to reclaime a Haggard Kite? Hast thou not read how wise Vlysses did Enstuffe his eares with Waxe, and close them vp, Of Cyrces filthie loue himselfe to rid, That turnd his Mates to Swine by Witches cup? And how he did the lyke vpon the Seas The pleasant noysome Syrens songs tendure, That otherwise had wrought him great vnease If once they mought his mates and him allure? Put thou the Greekes deuise againe in vre, Stop vp thine cares this Syren to beguile, Seale vp those wanton eies of thine, be sure To lend no eare vnto hir flattring stile. For all hir talke but to deceit doth tende, A canckred hart is wrapt in friendly lookes: Shée all hir wittes to thy decay doth bende, Thou art the Fish, she beares the byting hookes.

No sauage beast doth force a man a whit That loues him not: we see the dogged Curre Fawnes not one him that with y^e whip doth smite The Horse hates him y^t pricks him with the spurre. And wilt thou loue, or place within thy brest The cruell Dame that weaues thy web of woe? Wilt thou still fawne vpon so false a guest: In stead of Doue wilt thou retaine a Crowe? Beware in time, ere Beautie pierce to farre, Let fansies go, loue where is loue againe: For doubtlesse now to much to blame you arre. To sowe good will and reape but fowle disdaine. I counsaile thus that may thée best aduise, For that my selfe did serue a cruell Dame: The blinde recurde can iudge of bleared eies, The Criple healde knowes how to heale the lame. Shake thou betimes the yoke from off thy neck, For feare the print thereof remaine behind: A happie man is he that feares no check, But liues at fréedome with contented minde.