The forrest of fancy Wherein is conteined very prety apothegmes, and pleasaunt histories, both in meeter and prose, songes, sonets, epigrams and epistles, of diuerse matter and in diuerse manner. VVith sundry other deuises, no lesse pithye then pleasaunt and profytable.

An aunswere to a Letter that was not onely darke, but also so disordered, as their could no sence be perceiued in it.

VNloked for, I did receiue of late, Such lynes as led me into double doubt, Fyrst whence they came, and from what minyon mate, And secondly I mused where about, And for what cause they should to me be sent, But when I had perusde them ouer well, was neare the nere in knowing thy intent, For such a sencelesse tale thou seemdste to tell, And so confuse, as what I should couceiue. Of any part thereof I knew not I, To stayed Studients I the same will leaue, By learned skill the secrete sence to trie, Unlesse that thou that didst deuise the same, wilt take the paines to glose vpon the text, And set to shew the figures thou didst frame, Whereby it seemes thy mind is much perplext, For neither doth the matter match aright, Nor yet the vearce but varries euery where, I speake in sport, no cause I haue to spight, And as thou wisht, so with thy want I beare, Loue is a lawlesse Lord, both he and his Are free from blame what so they doe or say, And therefore though they sometime rome amis, That once haue leaned to his lucklesse lay.

The fault is in the troward fittes they feele, which leades their mindes to like of many thinges, And still to turne as doth the whirling wheele, where of the fruicte of folly freely springs, Thy worthy worke may well compared be, Unto A building brauely deckt without, The inward partes whereof, who so shall see, May finde it framde of clay and durt no doubt, For on the same when fyrst myne eyes I bent, The entraunce bare so braue a modesty, That sure I thought some Muse the same had sent From Helicon to please my fantasy, But when I had a little further past, Such paltrie pelfe presented was to me, As braue me into other thoughtes at last, So great a chaunge so sodainly to see, But borrowed ware will beare no better show. Au Ape's an Ape, though robes be neare so ritche, The good from bad a man may easily know, This makes thee claw whereas thou doest not itch, well galdback well, although I rubde thee now, If that thou winche, I way it not a might, Such cloked cunning can I not allow, Halt not henceforth when Criples are in sight, For trust to this thy Peacockes borrowed tayle, Cannot so craftely be coucht on thee, But that the fine deuice thereof will fayle, If it be matchte with those that kindly be, In fine I wishe thee if thy mind be moude, To beare the matter more at large set out, which to prouoke thou hast so blindlye proude, Then make it plaine, and cleare it cleane of doubt. Let finenesse goe and vse no secrete slight, To couer that which cannot be consealde, And then will I as well pluck vp my sprightes, To open that I haue not yet reuealde,

Finis.