Brittons bovvre of delights Contayning many, most delectable and fine deuices, of rare epitaphes, pleasant poems, pastorals and sonets by N.B. Gent.

Brittons vision of Cupids complaint against his fowle father Vulcan for begetting him.

WIthin the thicke of most vnquiet thoughts, Where Wit and Will had long each other lost: With carefull sence of sweete desire I sought, Which was the way that Fancie followed most: And passing on the path that they did proue, Plodding along I met with pitious Loue.

Wholy disarmde and hanging downe the head, Blinded? oh no, but all with blubbred eyes: Falue in the face with colour pale and dead, Wringing his hands in such a wofull wise. That when I saw how he had wept and cried, Truely I thought the wretch would there haue died.

But when I sawe the little thing alone, Farre from himselfe thus wander too and fro: And when I heard howe he did still bemoue, Some hidden cause that I desirde to know.

Close in conceite, I hid my selfe, to heare, What was the cause of this his heauie cheare.

Thus as I sat close hidden from his sight, Of lucklesse Loue lamenting of his losse: This sillie wretch in this most sorrowed plight, With sighes and sobs, and grieuous grones God wote, Cursing and banning Bewties generation, Thus did begin his wofull lamentation.

Oh haplesse hower when first my mother made, The cursed match with that vncomely Smith: Whose smokie forge hath made her beautie fade, As farre vnfit for her to meddle with. Whose filthie face doth set foorth such a feature, As hell it selfe hath scarce so fowle a creature.

But what conceite her frantike fancie fead, To match with him that was so fowle a match: Alas, alas, was Mercurie so dead, So great a prince to looke on such a patch. Needes must she thinke as she did after proue, Vulcan was not a man for Venus loue.

Oh smokie fowle ill fauoured filthie theefe, Howe could thy mind so high a matter moue: Howe could thy heart haue hope to find releese, Looke on thy selfe, and neuer looke for loue. So faire, so fowle, such contraries agree, Reason would sweare that it should neuer bee.

Better I were to be a bastard borne, Then haue a father of so fowle a hue: Rather I wish that thou shouldst weare the horne, Then that the world should thinke it to be true. That Cupid sweete should haue so fowle a Sire, And hath his face still foyled in the fire.

See w•…•…etched do•…•…ge the su•…•…e of thy disgrace; First thou hast wrought my mother great defame: Next thou hast set a marke vpon thy face, That all the world doth laugh to heare thy name: And last for me they say how can it bee, That he was sonne to such a staue as hee.

But fie vpon that filthie face of thine, Those mouldie chaps to touch my mothers face: I do protest my conscience doth repine, That thou shouldst kisse her in another place: But vgly beast into some hole go hide thee, For Bewtie sweares that Loue can not abide thee.

Oh Mars, oh Mars, where are those stately strokes, That left the field so ouer-flowen with blood: That cloue downe hils, and threw downe sturdie Okes, And made the aire come thundring through the wood: Art thou so weake with bending of one blade, Thou canst not breake the chaine that Vulcan made.

Up man, arise and shew thy manly strength, Least that the Smith do seeke my mothers shame: Lie not too long least slugguish slouth at length, Seeke by desart the honour of thy name: Vulcan is gone, but Cupid hath a file, To loose the locke that may the Smith beguile▪

But come away, for looke where Vulcan comes, But thou art loose now let him do his woorst: Looke how the theefe comes biting of his thumbs, Cursing the happe that hath his cunning burst. But let him some and bristle like a bore, Let him be sure to catch thee so no more.

But mother fie, what fond 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was that, To looke on Vulcan in the va•…•…e of loue:

Confesse a truth, you did you knew not what, When pacience would so vile a matter proue. Was wāt of sight that wrought your ouerthrow, Why then (alas should I be blinded so.

But mother, no: there is an other thing, Who is so blind as they that will not see: A base conceite sometime may stoope a king, I see in some that see not into mee. Better it is with Bewtie to be blinded, Then Bewties grace to be blindly minded.

But will you know it was no worke of mine, Follies effect committed all the fact: Although your words haue made poore Cupid whine, To say that I was authour of the act: But will or nill I must my selfe content, For parents faults poore children must be shent.

I am the child I cannot but confesse, The world doth say that I am Venus sonne: By whom begot I heare of nothing lesse, But might I heare by whom the deed was donne: In such desire as might the world desie, There could not liue a gladder man then I.

Once Vulcans sonne I know I cannot be, Mars was the man came neerer to the marke: As for the Smith it neuer could be hee, A B•…•…ting neuer could beget a Larke. Oh a•…•…, the world is much deceiu'd in mee. I hope to finde an other pedegree.

I am the sonne of secret sweet conceite, God by Desire and bred vp by desart: Nu•…•…thy the mind that neuer meant deceite, Fed with the fauour of a faithfull heart.

High from the heauēs I tooke my happy name, Where Venus liues, and Vulcan neuer came.

Begot I was in Anno out of minde, Borne in a countrie that no creature knowes: Bred in a world that worldlings cannot finde, Fed with a fruit that in no garden growes. Lodge in an eye that neuer can destroy me, Kept in a hart that neuer can come nigh me.

Loe thus I liue where I can neuer die, Fearing no hap, nor looking after hope: Pleasing my selfe wich pleasures farre and •…•…e, Wanting no wish where will hath such a scope: Gouerning all, where none can gouerne me, Oh what a king may daintie Cupid be.

Then leaue to mourne, and let the world perceiue, That Poets fancies are but fained fables, And Ouid did but studie to deceiue, Such kind conceites as loue such foolish bables▪ For he that lookes into M•…•…neruas ioy, Shall say that Cupid is a daintie boy.

With that me thought the little wagge arose, And gathered colour pretily in his face: And standes me op a tip-toe on his toes, Uaunting himselfe with such a Venus grace: As droue my heart into so great a laughter, That I awooke, and neuer saw him after.