The firste parte of Churchyardes chippes contayning twelue seuerall labours. Deuised and published, only by Thomas Churchyard Gentilman.

A TRAGICALL DIS∣course of the vnhappy mans life.

COm courtiars all▪ draw neer my morning hers Com heer my knell, ear cors to church shall go Or at the least, come read this wofull vers And last farewell, the haples penneth so And such as doth, his lief and manners kno Come shed some teares, and se him painted out That restles heer, did wander world about.

O pilgrims poer, preace neer my pagent nowe And note full well, the part that I haue playd And wyesly waye, my thriftles fortune throwe And print in brest, eache worde that heer is said Shrinke not my frindes, step forth stand not afrayd Though monstrous hap, I daily heer possest Some sweater chaunce, may bring your hartes to rest.

For though the wreatch, in cold and honger lies The happy wyght, in pompe and pleasure sittes The weake fals down, whear mighty folk aries The sound feels not, the feble ague fits So world you wot, doth serue the finest wittes Though dullards doe, in darknes daily run The wyes at will, can walke whear shyens the Sunne.

And hap fals net, to eury man a like Some sleeps full sound, yet hath the world at call Some leaps the hedge, some lights a mid the dyke Some sockes the sweat, and some the bitter gawll The vse of things, blynd deastnie gius vs all So though you see, ten thousand souls in hell Yet may you hoep, in heauens blys to dwell.

Let my mishap, a worldly wonder be For few can finde, the fruit that I did taest Ne leaus nor bowes, I founde vpon the tree And whear I plowd, the ground lay euer waest A man would think, the child was borne in haest Or out of time, that had such lucke as I For loe I looke, for Larkes when fauls the skye.

No soyll nor seat, nor season serues my torn Each plot is sowen, with sorrow whear I goe On moūtayn top, they say wher torch shuld born I find but smoek, and loethsom smothring woe Neer fountayn hed, whear springs do daily floe Cold Ise I get, that melts with warmth of hand So that I starue, whear cock and condits stand.

I quench smal thirst, wher thousands drink & ••yb An empty cup, I carry clean away And though as lean, as raek is eury ryb And hollow cheeks, doth hidden grief bewray The ritche eates all, the poore may fast and pray No butter cleaues, vpon my bred at need When hongry mawe, thinks throet is cut in deed.

The shallow broeks, whear littell penks ar found I shon, and seek, the seas to swymme thear on Yet vessayll sinks, or bark is layd a ground Whear leaking ships, in saefty still haue gon They harber finde, when hauen haue I non Hap cauls them in, when I am lodgd at large Thus plaines creeps, in cold Cock lorels barge.

Full thirty yeers, both Court and warres I tryed And still I sought, aquaintaunce with the best And serud the staet, and did such hap abyed As might befall, and Fortune sent the rest When drom did sound, a Souldiour was I prest To Sea or Lande, as princes quarrell stoed And for the saem, full oft I lost my blod.

In Scotland long,* 1.1 I lingred out my yeers When VVylford lyud, a worthy wight in deed And thear at length, I fell so farre in breers I taken was,* 1.2 as deastny had decreed Well yet with woords, I did my foes so feed That thear I lyud, in pleasuer many a daye And skaept so free, and did no randsom paye.

Some sayd I found, in Scotland fauour then, I graunt my pomp, was more than reason wold Yet on my band, I sent hoem sondry men That els had pyend, in pryson pyncht with cold To French and Scots, so fayr a taell I tolde That they beleeud, whyt chalk and chees was oen And it was pearll, that proued but pybbull stoen.

In Lavvther fort,* 1.3 I clapt my self by st••ight So fled from foes, and hoem to frynds I past The French in haest, beseegd that Fortres streight Then was I like,* 1.4 to light in fetters fast But loe a peace, broek vp theseeg at last When weery wars, and wicked blodshed great Maed both the sydes, to seek a quiet seat.

From thens I cam, to England as I might * 1.5And after that, to Irlande did I sayll Whear Sellenger, a wyes and noble knight Gaue me such place, as was to myen aduayll Than teasters walkt, as thick as doth the haill About the world: For loe from thence I boer For seruice doen, of money right good stoer▪

* 1.6Hoem cam I thoe, and so to Fraunce did faer When that their kyng, wan Meatts throw fatchis f••en So on the stock, I spent all voyd of caer And what I gaet, by spoyll I held it myen Than down I past, the pleasant floed of Ryen And so I sarud, in Flaunders note the saem Whear ••oe at first, my hap fell out of fraem.

For I was clapt, in pryson without cawse * 1.7And straightly held, for comming out of Fraunce But God did work, throwe iustice of the lawse And help of frindes, to me a better chaunce And still I hoept, the warres wold me aduaunce * 1.8So trayld the piek, and world began a nue And loekt like hawk, that laetly cam from mue.

Three yeer at least, I sawe the Emprours warres Than hoemward drue, as was my wonted traed Whear Sunne and Moen▪ and all the seuen Starres Stoed on my syed, and me great welcom maed But wether fayre, and flowrs full soen will faed So peoples loue, is like nue besoms oft That sweeps all clean, whyels broem is green and soft.

Well oens again, to warrs I drue me fast And with Lord Grey,* 1.9 at Giens I did remayn Where he or his, in any serues past I followed on, among the warlyk trayn And sometime felt, my part of woe and payn As others did, that Cannon well could like And pleasuer took, in trayling of the pike.

At length the French, did Giens besiege ye wot And littell help, or succour found we tho By whiche fowll want, it was my heauy lot To Parris streight, with good Lord Grey to goe As prisners boeth, the world to well doth knoe By tract of tyme, and wonders charge in deed He hoemward went, and took his leue with speed.

But poest aloen, I stoed alack the whyell And contrey clean, forgot me this is true And I might liue, in sorrowe and exyell And pien away, for any thing I knue As I had baekt, in deed so might I brue Not one at hoem, did seek my greef to heall Thus was I clean, cut of from common weall.

Yet loe a shift,* 1.10 to scaep away I founde When to my fayth, my taker gane no trust I did deuies, in wryting to be bounde To come again, the time was set full iust But to retorn, forsoeth I had no lust Sens faith could get, no credit at his hand I sent him word, to come and sue my band.

He came him selfe, to court as I did heer And told his taell, as fienly as he might At Ragland than, was I in Monmouth sheer Yet whan in court, this matter cam to light My friendes did say, that I had don him right A Soldiour ought, vpon his faith to go Which I had kept if he had sent me so.

* 1.11Well yet my minde, could neuer rest at hoem My shues wear maed, of running leather suer And boern I was, about the world to roem To see the warres, and keep my hand in vre The Frenche ye knoe, did Englishemen procuer To come to Leeth, at siedge wherof I was Till Frenche did seeke, in ships away to pas.

A littell breath▪ I toek than after this And shaept my self, about the Court to be And eury daye, as right and reason is To serue the Prince, in Court I fettled me Some frends I found, as frends do go you se That gaue me wordes, as sweet as hony still Yet let me lyue, by hed and conning skill.

I croetcht, I kneeld, and many a cap could vayll And watched laet, and early roes at moern And with the throng, I follouwd hard at tayll As braue as bull, or sheep but nuely shoern The gladdest man, that euer yet was boern To wayt and staer, among the staets full hye Who feeds the poer, with many frendly eye.

But who can liue, with goodly lookes alo••n Or mirry wordes, that sounds like tabrers pyep Say what they will, they loue to keep their own And part with nought, that commeth in their griep You shall haue nuts, they say when ploms aer riep Thus all with shalls, or shaels ye shall be fed And gaep for gold, and want both gold and led.

The proef therof, maed me to seke far hens To Anvverp than, I trudged on the spleen And all in haest, to get some spending pens To serue my torn, in seruice of the Queen But God he knoes, my gayn was small I ween For though I did, my credit still encreace I got no welth, by warres ne yet by peace.

Yet harke and noet, I praye you if you pleas In Anvvarp town, what fortune me befell My chaunce was such,* 1.12 whan I had past the Seas (And taken land, and theron rested well) The people Iard, and rang a larom bell So that in aerms, the town was eury whear And fewe or noen, of lief stoed certain thear.

A noble Prince, I sawe amyd that broyll To whom I went, and swaer his part to taek The commons caem, all set on raeg and spoyll And gaue me charge, to keep my wyts a waek The Prince for loue, of king and countreis saek Bad me do well, and shed no gyltles bloed And saue from spoyll, poer people and there Good.

I gaue my fayth, and hand to do the saem * 1.13And wrought the best, that I could worke therefoer And brought at length, the commons in such fraem That some wear bent to blo the coell no moer Yet some to rage, and robbry ran full soer Whom I reformd, so that no harm did fall To any wyght, among the commons all.

The streets we kept, and braek ne house nor doer And for three dayes, made no mans finger bleed I daer auoutch, that neither ryche nor poer Could say they lost, the valcur of a threed Well what of that, you kno an honest deed Is soen forgoet, of such as thanckles be For in the end, it fared so by me.

* 1.14The town I kept, from cruell sword and fier Did seek my lief, when peace and all was maed And such they wear, that did my blud desier As I had saude, from bloes and bluddy blaed I crept away, and hid me in the shaed But as the daye, and Sun began to shien They followd fast, with force and practies f••en.

* 1.15In priests atyer, but not with shauen crown I skaept their hands, that sought to haue my hed A forckid cap, and pleytted corttall gown Far from the church, stoed me in right good sted In all this whyell, ne masse for quick nor ded I durst not sing, a poesting priest I was That did in haest, from post to pyller pas.

In Brigges than, the parsons breetch did quake For there a clarke,* 1.16 came ••inging of a bell (That in the towne did such a rombling make) I could not walke, in vickars garments well So there I wisht, my selfe in Cockell shell Or Sea mans slopps, that smeld of pitch & tarre Which roebs I found, ear I had traueld farre.

A Marshall came, & seartcht our woole fleet than In boat I leapt,* 1.17 and so throw Sealand went And many a day, a silly weary man I traueilde there, and stoode with toile content Till God by Grace, a better Fortune sent And brought mee home, in safety, as you knoe Great thancks to him, I giue that sarude me soe.

In Court where I, at rest and peace remainde I thought apon,* 1.18 the part that Flemings plaide And for good will, since I was so retainde I thought to make, those roisters once afraide So hoiste vp saile, when I had anckar waide And into Fraunce, I slipte with much a do, Where lo a net, was making for mee to.

Yet paste I throwe, to Paris without stoppe When ciuill broils,* 1.19 were likely to begin And standing there, within a marchaunts shoppe I heard one saye, the Prince was comming in To Flaunders fast, with whom I laet had bin Before you wotte, thus hauing mirrie nues I stoole away, and so did Fraunce refues.

But by your leaue, I fell in daungers deepe Before I could, in freedome go or ride Deuouring wolues, had like to slaine the sheepe And wiept their mouthes, apon the muttons hide Nought goes amisse, where God wilbe the gide So throw the place, where parrel most did seeme I past at will, when daunger was exstreeme.

The Prince I found, from Collen at his house And there I saw, of Roitters right good store Who welcomde mee, with many a mad carouse Such is their gies, and hath bin euer more To Flaunders thus, we marcht and God before And neare the Rine, our Camp a season laye Till money came, and had a genrall paye.

In Flaunders longe, our Campe remayned still And sweete with sowre, we tasted sondry wayes Who goes to warrs, must feele both good and ill Some likes it not, and some that life can prayes Where nights are cold, and many hongrie dayes Some will not be, yet such as loues the Drom Takes in good parte, the chaunces as they com.

Perhaps my share, was not the sweetest thear I make no boest, nor finde no fault therein I sought my selfe, the burthen for to bear Amonge the rest, that had ••er charged bin If smart I felt it was a plague for sin If ioy I founde, I knew it would not last If wealth I had, lo waest came on as fast.

When Prince did passe, to Fraunce and Flaunders laft I licence sought,* 1.20 to see my natiue soile He told me than, the French by some fine craft On me at length, would make a pray and spoile I toke my leaue, not fearing any foile But ere the day, the skie had cleane forsoek I fell in snare, as fishe on baited hoek.

A wofull tale, it is to tell in deede Yet heare it out,* 1.21 and how God wrought for mee The case was such, that I a gide did neede So in the field, full nere a willow tree I founde a carle, that needs my gide must bee His hand I had, his hart did halte the while And treason did, throwe trust the true begile.

We held the waye, vnto S. Quintayns right As I did thincke, but long two leages I lost To ease my horse, he bade me oft a light But I thereat, seemde dumme and deaffe as post Of stomacke stoute, the way oft times he crost And soughte to take, my bridle by the raine That sleight I found, and so he lost his paine.

Had I turnde backe, the peysants wear at hand Who mounted were, on better horse than I A village neare, there was within that land Whear loe my gide, would haue me needs to lye Not so my frend, I aunswearde very hye Where at he knew the padde in straw was founde So toke the ball, and stroke it at rebounde.

Thou canst not scape, ({quod} he) then light a downe * 1.22Thou art but dead, thy life here shalt thou lose, And therewithall, the carle began to frowne And laide his hand, apon my Lether hose Throw si••es he made, the towne by this aroes, And some by warres, that lately loste their good Sought to reueng, the same apon my blood.

My gied leapt vp, apon the horse I roode And flang away, as fast as he could driue Downe was I haeld, and on my face they troode And for my roebs, the tormenters did striue My gide did crie, O leaue him not aliue An English churle, he is his tongue doth shoe And gold he hath, good store full well I knoe.

They stript me streighte, from doblet to my short Yet hose they la••te, vntoutcht as God it would No powre they had, to do me further hort For as the knife, to throte they gan to hold To saue my life, an vpright tale I told They hearing that, laid all their weapons downe And askt me if, I knew saint Quintains towne.

I past thereby whan to the Spawe I went ({quod} I and there, my pasport well was veaud If that be true, said one thou shalt be sent From hens in hast, and so they did conclued To towne I should, from sauage country rued So in the hey, they laid me all that night Yet sought my life, before the day was light.

But as with weedes, some suffrante flower groes So in that soile,* 1.23 a blessed man was bred Which vndertoke, to keepe me from my foes And saue my life, by fine deuice of hed He cald me vp, when they wear in their bed And bade me go, with him whear he thought best Lest in that place, full small should be my rest.

I followde on, as he did lead the trace He brought me safe, where I in surety stood Thus God throw him, did shoe his might & grace Which ioyde me more, than all this worldly good The other sort, ••wear butchers all for blood And daily slue, such stragglars as they toek For whom they laie, and watcht in many ••nock.

That hazard paste, I found more mischieues still But none so great,* 1.24 nor none so much to fear With to••le & paine, with sleighte of head and skill From Fraūce I came, (and laft al mischief thear) Nowe here what fruite, my natiue soile doth bear See what I reap, and marke what I haue sowne And let my lucke, throwe all this land be knowne.

First let me tell, how Fortune did me call To Garnesey thoe,* 1.25 to staye my troubled miend Whear wel I was, althogh my wealth was smal And long had dwelt, if destnie had assiend But as the shippe, is subiect to the winde So we must chaenge, as checking chaunces falls Who tosseth men, about like tennis balls.

This chaunce is she, some say that leads men out And brings them home, when least they looke therefore A dalling dame, that breeds both hope and dout And makes great wounds, yet seldom to salues the soer Not suer on sea, nor certaine on the shoer A worldly witch, that dealls with wanton charms For one good turne, she doth ten thousand harms.

A figge for chaunce, this Fortune bears no shaep The people fonde, a name to Fortune giue Which sencelesse soules, do after shadoes gaep Great GOD doth rule, and sure as God doth liue He griends the corne, and sifts the meale throw siue And leaues the bran, as reffues of the flowre To worke his will, and shoe his mightie powre.

* 1.26Promoshon coms, ne from the East nor West Ne South nor North, it faulls from heauen hie For God himselfe, sets vp who he thincks best And casts them downe, whose harts would clime the skie Thus earthly happs, in worldlings doth not lie We trudge we runne, we ried and breake our braine And backwarde come, the selfe same stepps againe.

Till time aprotche, that God will man prefarre With labours long, in vaine we beat the ayre Our destnies dwell, in neither moone nor starre Nor comfort coms, from people foule nor fayre Small hoep in those, that sits in Golden chayre Their moods their minds, and all we go about Takes light from him, that putts our candel out.

This argues now, all goodnes freely groes From him that first,* 1.27 made man of earthly mold And flo••ds of wealth, into their bosome floes That cleerly can, his blessed will behold As sheppards do, keepe safe their sheepe in fold And Gardnar knoes, how flowrs shold watted be So God giues ayde, ear man the want can se.

Helps coms not sure, by hap or heads deuice Though wits of men, are means to worke y^e waxe And cunning hands, do often cast the dice All these are toyes, trust vp in tinkars packs No flame wil ryes, till fier be thrust to flare No brantch may bud, till he that made the plant With dew of grace, in deede supplies the want.

Can earth yeild fruit, til Springtime sap do shoe? Can ayre be cleer, till foggs and miests are fled? Can seas and floeds, at eury season floe? Can men giue life, to shapes and bodies dead? Such secrets pas, the reatche of mans vaine head So loke to reap, no corne for all our toile Till Haruest come, and God hath blest the soile.

The pottar knoes, what vessail serues his turne And therein still, he powreth liquor sweete The cooke well notes, what wood is best to burne And what conceites, is for the banket meete The Captaine marks, what souldiour hath most spreete And calls that man, to charge and office great Whan he thincks good, and saruice is in heat.

Dare any wight, presume to take the place Of worthy charge, till he therto be cald? Dare subiect brag, before the Princes face? Or striue wyth staets, that are in honour stauld? Dare village boest, with Cittie stronglye wauld? Dare children clime, till they good footing find? No all thing yelds, to him that leads the minde.

He lifts aloft, he flingeth downe as faste * 1.28He giues men fame, and plucks renowne awaye Hap doth not so, for chaunce is but a blaste An idle word, where with weake people playe Hap hangs and holds, on hazarde eury waye And hazard leanes, on doubt and danger deepe That glads but few, and maketh Milliōs weepe.

I vse this terme, of hap in all I write As well to make, the matter large and long As any cause, or dram of great delite I take therein: But here I do yoe wrong To leade your cares, with such a senceles song From hearing that, I promesde haue to ende The bare discourse, the haplesse man hath pende.

So comming home, and crept from toills abroed (With charged brest, and heuy heauing hart) I thought in Courte, my burthen to vnloed And cast away, the cares of former smart But there alas, my chaunce is so oerth wart I sit and sighe, and fold mine armes with all And in old griefes, a freshe begin to fall.

Yea thear where most, my hope and haunt hath bin Where yeares and dayes, I spent apon the stocke And diuers doe, good hap and frendship win (And duetie makes, a world of people flocke) And thousands Loe, drawes water from the cocke I skarce may moist, my mouth when thirst is great And hart is cleane, consuemde with skalding heat▪

A spring of kinde, doth floe aboue the brim You cannot stoppe, a Fountaine if you would For throw harde rockes, it runneth cleare and trim And in some grounde, it casts vp graynes of gould It bursts the earth, and deepely diggs the mould It gusheth out, and goes in sondry vayns From mountaines topp, and spredeth all the plains.

The Spring creeps vp, the highest hill that is And many wells, thear on are easlye found And this I wott, where you do water mis Small fruite doth groe, it is but barraine grounde The soile is sweete, where pleasaunt springs abounde The Cowslop sproutes, where springs and fountaines bee And floeds begin, from fountaine heads you see.

The labring man, thearat doth coell his heat The byrds do haeth, their brests full brauely thear The brutest beasts, there in finds pleasure great And likes not halfe, so well another whear What cause in mee, what dout what fault or feare?

That I maye not, in this so weak a plite Go drinck my fyll, whear ••atch thing haeth delite.

The moer we draw, the waetter from the well * 1.29The better farre, we bring the spring in fraem The seas themselues, of natuer ries and swell The moer the winde, & weather works the saem The fier borns best, when bellows bloes the flaem Let things stande still, and stoer them not in time They shall decaye, by meane of drosse and slime.

I see some streams, with sticks aer choked vp And riuers large, are marde with beds of sand I see some bring, from doells an empty cup Yet craues an almes, and shoes a needye hand I see baer boyes, befoer the banket stand And no man sayth, loe poer man if thou wutt Take heer a dishe, to fill thy hongry gutt.

Of cormrant kinde, some crammed capons aer The moer they eat, the moer they may consuem Some men likewise, the better that they faer The worse they be, and sicker of the ruem And some so chaef, so frowne so fret and fuem When others feede, they cannot God he knoes Spaer any time, the dropping of thear noes.

The bords aer spred, and feasts aer made thereon And sutch sit downe, that haeth their bellies full

Whose greedy mouthes, from dogg would snatch y^e boen VVhich snodges swell, and loke like greisie wull They puffe they bloe, yea like a baited bull And shoue them backe, that on small croems would feede VVhose pashent harts, maks vertue of a neede.

The glotton thincks, his belly is to small VVhen in his eye, a deintie morssell is He grins and gaeps, as though no crom shold fall From him: and loeks as al the world wear his Thus sutch as want, aer suer the poest to kis For powltting pried, doth preace so fast in place That poer plain Tom, daer skarce come sho his face.

Catch one doth seeke, for to aspier and ries Yet haet we those, that doth by vertue clime The foole hee skorns, the worship of the wies Yet dolts presuem, beyond the wyes sometime And all this strief, is but for dros and slime That out of earth, wee digg with daungers deepe Full hard to winne, and much more wors to keepe.

This makes me mues, when some haue heaps in hord They will not help, the neerest freinde they haue And yet with smiels, and many a frendly word They graunt to giue, before a man doth craue Sut••h harbors fine, can finely poul and shaue And washe full cleane, till all away they washe Than good sir Griem, like lobb they leaue in lashe.

What should men loes, when they enoughe haue had If they did part, with things that might be sparde? A litle peece, out of a golden gad For seruice long, might be a great rewarde No no as steele, and flinte is stiffe and harde So world is waxt, and no good turne is founde But whea•• in deede, do doble giftes rebounde.

Wee make a legge, and kisse the hand with all (A French deuice, nay sure a Spanish tricke) And speake in Print, and say loe at your call I will remaine, your owne both dead and quicke A Courtiar soe, can giue a lobbe a licke And dresse a dolt, in Motley for a while And so in sleeue, at sillye wodcocke smile.

If meaning went, with painted words and shoes It mighte suffice, such cortteis cheer to taest But with the same, disdaine and enuye goes And trompry great, with words and winde in waest Than arme in arme, coms flattry full of haest And leads a way, the sences out of frame That vpright witts, are thereby stricken lame.

This sowtting lowe, and bowing downe the knee But groeps mens minds, to creepe in credits lapp Like malte horse than, he holds vp head you see That late before, could vaile hoth knee and capp The Nurse a while, can feede the child with papp And after beate, him on the breetch full baer A swarme God wot, of these fine natuers aer,

There be that biets, yet gronts and whines withall There be that winnes, yet sweare and say they loes There be that stops, and stealls away the ball There be that plantes, a weede & plucks a roes There be pleads wante, to whom the fountaine floes Such hieds there haps, to make the world to thincke At fayre well head, they neede not for to drincke.

The Whales you see, eates vp the little fishe The prettie Penk, with Sammon may not swim The greatest heads, are fedde with finest dishe To foulest pits, fayre water runneth trim Hee gets the gaine, that standeth nere the brim He bloes the cole, that hath cold fingers still He starues for bread, that hath no corne at mill.

A world to see, the course and state of things Some would get vp, y^t knoes not where to light Some soer the skies, that neuer had no wings Some wrastle well, by cunning not by might Some seems to iudge, fayre coulours w^tout sight And eury one, with some odde shift or grace In world at will, runs out a goodly race.

But to be plaine, I lagg and come behinde As I wear lame, and had a broken legg Or els I cannot, lye within the winde And harken still, what I might easlie begg I neede not say, in mouth I haue a gegg For I haue spoke, and sped in matters small By helpe of him, that hath my Verses all.

But farre God wot, I am from that I seeke And misse the marke, that many men do hit Wherfore sal•• tears, do trickle downe the cheeke And hart doth feele, full many a wofull fit And so aside, in sollem sorrow sit As one in deede, that is forsaken cleane Wher most he doth, deserue and best doth meane.

No matter now, though ech man march & tread On him that hates, the life he beares about Yet such as shall, these heauy Verses read Shall finde I blame, my fortune out of dout But sens on hope, no better hap will sprout I yeild to death, and vpward lift the minde Where lothsome life, shall present comfort finde.

Sens hope can haue, no hony from the Hiue And paines can plucke, no pleasure for his toile It is but vaine, for weery life to striue And streatch out time, with torment and tormoile Get what we can, death triumphes oer the spoile Than note this well, though we win neer so mitch When death tacks al, we leaue a mizer ritch.

To liue and lacke, is doble death in deede A presente death, exceeds a lingring woe Sens no good hap, in youth did helpe my neede In age why should, I striue for Fortune soe Old years are come, and haests me hens to goe The t••me draws on, I hate the life I haue When hart shall breake, my griefe shall ende in graue.

Should I seeke life, that finds no place of rest Ne sotle nor seate, to shroude me from the ayre When cramping colde, be clipps my carefull brest And dollor driues, my hart in deepe dispayre For such foule dayes, darke death is wondrous fayre As good to make, the skrawlling worms a feast As pleas y^• world, wher mischiefe maks her neast.

Hie time it is, to haest my carkas hens Youth stoole awaye, and felt no kinde of ioye And age he laft, in trauell euer sens The wanton dayes, that made me nice and coye Wear but a dreame, a shadoe and a toye Sith slaurye heer, I finde and nothing els My hoem is thear, wher soule in freedome dwels.

In warrs and woe, my yeers aer waested clean What should I see, if lordly lief I led I loek in glas, and finde my cheeks so lean That eury owre, I do but wishe mee ded Now back bends downe, & forwards faulls y^e hed And hollow eyes, in wrinckled brow doth shrowd As though two stars, wear creping vnder clowd.

The lipps waxe cold, and loeks both pael & thin The teeth fawlls out, as nutts forsoek the shaell The baer bald head, but shoes whear hear hath bin The liuely ioynts, waxe weery stiffe and staell The reddy tongue, now folters in his taell The wearishe face, and tawny collour shoes The corraeg quaills, as strength decayes and goes.

The sweete delites, are dround in dulled minde The gladsome sports, to groning sighes are bent The frisking lims, so farre from frame I finde That I▪ forthincke, the time that youth hath spent But when I way, that all these things wear lent And I must pay, the earth her dutie throw I shrincke no whit, to yeld these pleasures now.

Had I possest, the giftes of Fortune heer A house a wyfe, and children therewithall And had in store (to make my frendes good cheer) Sutch commō things, as neighbours haue at call In such dispayre, perchaunce I would not fall But want of this, and other lackes a skore. Bids me seeke death, and wishe to liue no more.

Yet for to beare, a peece of all my woes (And to impart, the priuie pangs I felt) From countrie soile, a sober wife I choes In mine owne house, with whom I seldom dwelt When thousandes slepte, I waekt I swet I swelt To compas that, I neuer could attaine And still from hoem, abroed I brack my braine.

The thatcher hath, a cottage poore you see The sheppard knoes, where he shal sleepe at night The daily drudge, from cares can quiet bee Th••s Fortune sends, some rest to eurye wight So borne I was, to house and lande by right But in a bagg, to Court I brought the same From Shrews brye towne, a seate of auncient fame.

What thinkes my frindes, that thear behind I laft What fault finds she, that gaue me lief and suck O courting fien, thou art to cold a craft The Carter haeth, at hoem much better luck Well, well I saye, a due all worldly muck Ne howse nor land, we bear away I knoe I naked cam, and naked hence must goe.

The greatest kyng, must pas the self saem way Our daye of byrth, and buriall are alike Their ioye, their pompe, their wealth and rich araye Shall soen consuem, like snow that lies in dieck No bucklar serues, when sodayn death doth striek As soen may coem, a poer mans soule to blys As may the rich, or greatest Lord that is.

Well ear my breath, my body doe forsaek My spreet I doe, bequeath to God aboue My bookes, my skrowls, and songs that I did maek I leaue with frindes, that freely did me loue To flyring foes, whoes mallice did me moue I wyshe in haest, amendment of their wayes And to the Court, and courtiars happy dayes.

My fortuen straunge, to straungers doe I leaue That strangly can, retain such straung mishap To such as still, in world did me disseaue I wyshe they may, bewaer of such lyk trap To sclaundrous tongues, that kyld me with their clap I wyshe moer rest, than they haue gyuen me And bles thoes shreaws, that corst and crabbed be.

To such as yet, did neuer pleasuer man I giue those ryems, that nyps the gawlled back To such as would, do good and if they can I wyshe good luck, long lief, and voyd of lack To currysh karls, a whyp and collyars sack And to the proud, that stands vpon their braus A waynskot face, and twenty crabtree staues.

To surly syers, that scorns the meaner sort A nightcap foord, with Foyns I them bequeath To such as skowll, at others good report (And sets much stoer, by their owne paynted sheath) In sien of luck, I giue a willowe wreath To such as aer, vnnaemd and merits mutch The stoen I leaue, that tries the gold by tutch.

To gentill race, with good conditions ioynd I wyshe moer ioy, than man imagin maye And sens for pooer, I haue no money coynd God graunt them all, a mery mariage daye To such as doth, delyte in honest playe I wyshe the gold, that I haue lost thearby And all the wealth, I want befoer I dye.

Now frends shack hands, I must be gon my boyes Our myrth taeks end, our triumph all is don Our tykling talk, our sports and myrry toyes Do flyed away, lyke shadow of the Son Another coms, when I my race haue ron Shall passe the tyme, with you in better plyt And finde good cause, of greater things to wryt.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  First at VVark vvith George Lavvson.
• * 1.2

  Taken vnder the Lorde Ad∣mi••all at Saynt Myruns.
• * 1.3

  Vnder Sir Hu•• VVyllovvbe.
• * 1.4

  Mounsoer de Terms, besi••∣ged this fort.
• * 1.5

  Sir Anthony Sen••lyger depa•••• of Ire∣lande.
• * 1.6

  Meatts in Lo∣rain vvon by treason.

  In Fraunce ser∣ued vnder cap∣tayne Crayer.
• * 1.7

  In Charles the fifts time, vnder Captain Mat∣son.
• * 1.8

  Got out of pri∣son by helpe of the noble Ma∣dame Sell de embry.
• * 1.9

  Eight yeres vn¦der my Lorde Grey.
• * 1.10

  Oens agayne eskaped out of pryson.
• * 1.11

  Serued vnder my Lord Grey at Le••th.
• * 1.12

  A Captaine of great charge vn¦der the Prince of Arrange.
• * 1.13

  He saued Re∣ligi••••s houses and most of the tovvne from 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.14

  Note.
• * 1.15

  〈1 paragraph〉〈1 paragraph〉
• * 1.16

  Follovvde by the Marshall 8. dayes.
• * 1.17

  At the Slue the Marshall and he vvere both in one ship together.
• * 1.18

  A drift of the Duke of Al••a to dispatch me.
• * 1.19

  The Lord ••m∣bassador novv Lord N••ui, did helpe mee avvay.
• * 1.20

  A Pesaunt be∣traide me and yet vvas God my deliuerer.
• * 1.21

  Note.
• * 1.22

  A great trea∣cherie.
• * 1.23

  A secret pro∣u••••ion of God.
• * 1.24

  The Captaine of Pynoen hā¦dled me hard∣ly.
• * 1.25

  Vnder Cap∣taine 〈◊〉〈◊〉 after all th••se ••o••les.
• * 1.26

  Note.
• * 1.27

  Note.
• * 1.28

  Note.
• * 1.29

  Note.