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DOLARNYS PRIMEROSE.





DOLARNYS PRIMEROSE.
OR
THE FIRST PART
OF THE
Passionate Hermit.
John Reynolds
LONDON:
FROM THE Shakspeare Press, BY
W. BULMER AND CO. CLEVELAND-ROW,
ST. JAMES'S.
1816.





137691
JAN 11 1910
Y
+9R81
R13
TO THE MEMBERS
OF
The Rorburghe Club,
THIS REPRINT
OF
DOLARNYS PRIMEROSE,
BY
J. RAYNOLDS,
IS DEDICATED AND PRESENTED
BY THEIR OBEDIENT SERVANT,
FRANCIS FREELING.
June 17, 1816.





EARL SPENCER, PRESIDENT.
THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE.
THE MARQUIS OF BLANDFORD.
EARL GOWER.
VISCOUNT MORPETH.
VISCOUNT ALTHORP.
SIR MARK MASTERMAN SYKES, BART.
SIR EGERTON BRYDGES, BART.
WILLIAM BENTHAM, ESQ.
WILLIAM BOLLAND, ESQ.
JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
REV. ROBERT HOLWELL CARR.
JOHN DENT, ESQ.
REV. THOMAS FROGNALL DIBDIN, V.P.
REV. JAMES WILLIAM DODD.
REV. HENRY DRURY.
FRANCIS FREELING, ESQ.
HENRY FREELING, ESQ.
JOSEPH HASLEWOOD, ESQ.
RICHARD HEBER, ESQ.
GEORGE HIBBERT, ESQ.
GEORGE ISTED, ESQ.
ROBERT LANG, ESQ.
JOSEPH LITTLEDALE, ESQ.
EDWARD LITTLEDALE, ESQ.
JAMES HEYWOOD MARKLAND, ESQ.
JOHN DELAFIELD PHELPS, ESQ.
THOMAS PONTON, ESQ.
PEREGRINE TOWNLEY, ESQ.
EDWARD VERNON UTTERSON, ESQ.
ROGER WILBRAHAM, ESQ.





DOLARNYS
PRIMEROSE.
Or
The first part of the paſsionate Her-
mit: wherein is expreffed the liuely pafsi-
ons of Zeale and Loue, with an alluding difcourfe
to Valours ghoft. Both pleafant and profitable,
if iudiciouſly read,and rightly
vnderſtood.
Non eft Beatus,effe qui fe nefcit.
WRITTEN BY A PRACTITIONER
in Poefie,and a ſtranger amongst Poets,which
caufeth him dread this fentence:
Nihil ad Parmenonis fuem.

AT LONDON
Printed by G.Eld, and are to bee fold by Robert Boulton,
at his fhop in Smithfield,neere long lane end.
1606.





To the right Honourable, Efme Stew-
art, Lord of Aubignuy, and one of the
Gentlemen of his Maiefties bed-Chamber; ennobled
with the rareft guifts that honour may afforde,
or vertue challenge:
John Raynolds,wifheth happy increaſe of all noble
and renowmed refolutions.

Vmmoning my fenfes together (Right bo-
nourable) and weighing your Lordships
worth, and my imperfections: Difpaire
had almoft checkt my too too prefumptuous
forwardneffe, onely for intending to pre-
fent this fimple worke into the hands of fo
noble a perfon: But Hope (chiefe miftreffe of Defire, and eni-
my to Feare) began to animate my trembling thoughts with
thefe perfuafions.
Virgil, whofe curious inuentions haue made his name im-
mortall, (though not for imitation, yet for pleasure) read En-
nius rough Poefies: the Delphian Oracle gaue Socrates as good
a fentence for his well meaning mite, as to the proudest Athe-
nians for their heapes of treafure. All that was pleaded before
the Romane Senators, was not vttered by Tully, yet was it
beard and allowed with plaufible cenfures. Xerxes accepted
as well of the poore mans handfull of water, as of the riche
mans Goblet of gold.
Thus bebolding right Honorable (as in a mirror )the eftates
or proceedings of paled times, and bauing in homely manner
penned the fe few unpolished lines, I prefumed to prefent them
into your Lordships hands: which although they are not ftret-
ched to the delicate treble keye of fuch refined Poems, as
A 2
Maro


The Epiſtle Dedicatory.
Maro fung in the eares of Auguftus, yet they may bee
rightly called, the fruits of as well intended thoughts. For
Phidias labored as hard with his (felfe conceipted ſharp)
penfil, as Apelles, with his approued fkil. Euery painter can-
not counterfeite lawne, with Parrhafius, nor proportion the
Ciclops, with Tymanthes. Maiaes fonne refufed not to
taft on Baucis, faire Ioue was content with Philemons en-
tertaynement. Although Fors Fortuna gaue Vliffes, the fen-
tence for bis curious fmotheneffe, yet Aiax had an applawdit
for his rough plainenes:& as no coun fel could reuoke. Fabius
but Terentias fayrneffe, nor no furgion cure Hipolite but
Efculapius, fo no funne can beautifie thefe deformed lines,
but the glimfes of your Lordships fauour, nor no falue be able
to fet the fe mangled firayns a foote, vnleffe it be miniftred by
your noble protecting band. I feeke not Afcanius rich cloake
for brauerie, but couet with Damidas Parret, to bee ſhel-
tred from the vultures tirany.
Then Right honourable, if it wil please your Lordship to bar-
bour this handfull of barfb founding fillables under the ſafe
conduct of your bonours faire protection, I shall not onely
thinke them fufficiently guarded from enuious tongues: but
alfo efteeme my felfe happie, to haue them fhadowed under
the winges of fo worthy a Mecanas. Thus hoping (though not
for the worth of the prefent, yet for the true heart of the gi-
uer of)your honorsgentle patronage,&refting in that hope I
wish your honour the happie enioying of your honourable
wiſhes.
Your Lordſhips in all duty to be commanded.
I. R.


To the Right Honourable Lord,
Aubignuy, health eternall.
W Hat nere feene gemme, fhall I deuife to fet,
Vpon your helme, your temples to ingert?
What trophe rare,what wreath or Coronet,
Can guerdonize, your meriting deſert?
O let me polliſh,fome nere written line,
To fit your worth, for worldlings to peruſe:
And place it in, that loftie creft of thine,
Whofe filuer ſhowers, nourisheth my mufe.
Making them ſpring,as flow'rs from froſty earth,
Which Aprill deaws, the worlds broad eye to view:
Which elfe had died, and nere obtained birth,
Had they not gain'd,incouragement of you.
Baſe are the thoughts, that longs to write and dare not,
Then if you fmile,let others frowne, (I care not.)
Your Lordships euer
humbly deuoted:
A 3
Iohn Raynolds.
Το


LOTE
To the Gentle Readers'
what foeuer.
WHat fhould I fcrape,or beg,at pardons gate,
With proftrate termes, to helpe my ſtranger rimes:
When as I know,that in this wauʼring ſtate,
None well can pleaſe,theſe fickle enuious times.
Therefore I craue, no other boone but this,
Vpon my lines,let euery fancie deeme:
What pleaſe them beft: well, meane, or flatte amiffe,
No whit the worſe, I will of them eſteeme.
For enuious curres, will bawle at ſtrangers true,
When neighbor theeues, vnfeene may filch & fteale:
But truftie maftifes,or by fent or view,
The priuie drifts, of both will foone reueale.
Then if the learned, feeke not to deſpite me,
Let Enuie barke,I know he cannot bite me.
Yours, I. R.


In laudem Authoris.
THough carping fpight, fhould fit in Momus chaire,
And Zoylus fume,gnafhing his venime Iawes:
Though Crittick Satires,raue and rend their haire,
And Enuy threat mee, with his fulfom pawes.
Yet this my pen,for Raynolds fake ſhall write,
Whofe nouell lines,vnfolds a fertill ſpring;
Reueales at large,found loue in zelous plight,
Inchac'd with wo,and warlike fonneting.
Delightfull Poems,ioyn'd with pleaſant good,
And harmeleffe pleaſure, mixt with loftie ſtraines:
Then foule Therfites,ceafe thy rayling moode,
And giue at leaſt,good words for fo much paines.
But if abroad,thy enuy needs muſt flie,
Defpight not him, who feekes to pleaſure thee.
Abraham Sauere Gentleman.





DOLARNYS
Primerofe.
WHen flowring May,had with her morning deawes,
Watred the meadowes, and the vallies greene,
The tender Lambes,with nimble-footed Eawes,
Came forth to meete,the wanton fommers Queene:
The liuely Kidds,came with the little Fawnes,
Tripping with ſpeed,ouer the pleaſant lawnes.
To heare how that,dame Natures new-come broodes,
Began to set, their ſweet melodious notes,
With fugred tunes, amidſt the leauie woodes,
Inchaunting muficke,through their pretty throats:
By whoſe ſweet ſtraines, right well it might appeare,
The pride of Sommer, to be drawing neere.
Then bright Apollo,threw his radiant fmiles,
Into the lappes, of each delicious fpring.
Where Philomele, the weary time beguiles,
In grouie shades, fountaines inuironing:
The late bare trees, there fportiuely did growe,
With leauie ſprigs on euery branch and bowe.
Ingarments green,the medows fayre did ranck it,
The vallies lowe of garments greene were glad,
In garments greene,the paſtures proud did pranck it
The daly grounds in garments greene were clad:
Each hill and dale,each buſh and brier were ſeene,
Then for to floriſh,in their garments greene.
B
Thus


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Thus as the medowes,forefts and the feelds,
In fumptuous tires, had deckt their daynty flades
The florifhing trees, wanton pleaſure yeelds,
Keeping the funne,from out their fhadie fhades:
On whofe greene leaues, vpon each calmie day,
The gentle wind, with dallying breath did play.
The Oake, the Elme, the Alder and the Aſhe,
Were richly clad, in garments gay and greene,
The Afpen trees,that oft the waters waſh,
In like arraiment, then were neatly feene:
The lou❜ly Lawrell, precious, rich and faire,
With Odors fweet, did fill the holeseme
ayre.
Their ſpreading armes,their branches and their boughes
Were made a bower, for the pritty birds,
Where Philomele, did come to pay her vowes,
With fugred tunes,in fteed of wofull words:
Their lofty tops, of towring branches fayre,
Dampt with the muficke, of delicious ayre.
Whofe hawty pride, regarded mirth nor moanes,
But with ambition, view'd the fommer flowers,
Their labells hang'd, with quiuering dew-pearld ſtones,
Did reprefent, fpangles on am'rous bowers:
There grouy fhade, fuch pleaſing ayre did lend,
As doth on groues, and grouy fhades attend.
Vnweldy trees,gorgeous to behold,
Stood hand in hand, with branches all combining,
Their Gentle armes, each other did infold,
With Iuye fprigges,vpon their bodies climbing:
The more to breake, the hot reflexing rayes,
Of bright Apollo,in the fommer dayes.
Drawne


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Drawne by the pleaſure,of delightfull ayre,
Thofe checkred borders, oft I did frequent,
And vnderneath, thoſe ſhadowes freſh and faire,
The weary time, oft wearily I fpent:
Where at the length, it was my chance to meete,
An aged man, whom I did kindly greet.
He myrror like,for nurture, difcipline,
Repay'd my words, with curteous kind regreeting,
Then drew we neere,a fayre-ſpread-fhady pine,
Vnder whoſe boughes, we folemniz'd our meeting:
Whereas long time, the time did not purſue,
But that familiar,in difcourfe we grew.
His aged wit,fo pregnant made mee muſe,
With courtly tearmes,and eloquence all flowing,
And fuch they were, that cauf'd me t'accuſe,
Mine owne fo dull, that ſpent my time nought knowing:
His tongue-ſweet notes,ti'd mine eares in chaines,
So that my fenfes, were rauiſht with his ſtraynes.
The ſweeteſt muficke,tuch'd with curious hand,
Whoſe tones harmonious, bath's a lift'ning eare,
Forcing fierce Tygers, all amazed ſtand,
Vnto his voyce compard, did harſhly iarre;
Which cauſed me,with earneſt fute to craue,
Some ſtory from, his pleafing felfe to haue.
Who neither graunted, nor denied the motion,
With pleaſant fadneffe, ftood as in a muſe;
Whilft I infnard, with his ſo ſweet deuotion,
Fixed mine eyes, his muteneffe to peruſe:
But then his tongue, broke off his contemplation,
And thus began, diſcourſe with inuocation.
B 2
O


Dolarny's Primeroſe.
O thou great guider, of the guideleffe nine,
With facred deaw,my witleffe wit inſpire,
Water my fenfes, with thy Nectar fine,
Rauifh my breaſt, with thy all hallowed fire:
Sothat my tongue, ftray not in fond delight,
But in his courſe, wonder thy mighty might.
When liuely bloud,did run within my veines,
I tookę delight to trauell here and there,
So much as then, my parents gaue my reins,
Vnto my felfe,to fee how I could beare:
The fickle flights,of Fortunes turning wheele,
Which like Silenus, drunkenly doth reele.
The ſpring drew on,and youth did fill my pores,
Earneft defire,bred a ſtraying motion,
Within my breaft,to fee the Cambrian fhoares,
That boundes vpon,the all vntamed Ocean:
Where huge steep rockes, fhadeth each couert plaine,
Beaten with waues,from the Hiberian mayne,
And in a morne, when Phoebus faire did rife,
Out off his bed, the mountaines to diſcouer,
Climbing the lofty,greffes of the fkies,
With longing ſteppes,to ouertake his louer:
My greedy eyes, defir'd to feed their fight,
Vpon the ſweet'ft,of Cambriaes delight.
Then did I walke, toward thoſe riſing hills,
Where carefull paftors,of their Kids were keeping,
Whil'ft lazie ſwaynes,their fore-duld ſenſes kills,
By entertayning, too much time with ſleeping:
There did Paftoraes, with their roundelayes,
Paffe with delight,the fommer of their dayes.
There


Dolarnys Primerofe.
There might I fee, the lofty Cedar trees,
Frō branch to bough, where pritty birds were skipping,
Their honey leaues, did feede the buſie Bees,
Vnder whofe fhade, the milke white Does were tripping:
Their ſpreading armes,woare Iuie all combining,
Where might be seene, the nimble Squirrell climbing.
There did I fee,the valleyes where the flockes,
Of fearfull Ewes, and tender Lambes were feeding,
The little fprings, that do runne by the rockes,
The leauy fhrubs, where pritty birds were breeding:
There Philomele,with fweet recording fills,
The plaines with muficke,ecchoing from the hilles,
I walkt along,that faire adorned field,
Till that I came, to a delicious ſpring,
Whoſe ſmiling current,did fuch pleasure yeeld,
As ſweet content,vnto content could bring:
There did I reſt, and ſtay my felfe a while,
Some tedious howers, thinking to beguile.
For why that fount,as pleaſantly was plaſt,
As if delight, ſhould lodge betweene two paps,
Freed with content, from Boreas northern blaſt,
Or as a Carpet,twixt two Ladyes laps:
Inuiron'd round, with their difplaying tresses,
Whofe amber ſhade, that golden Carpet bleffes.
Faire quiu'ring mirtle, did ingirt the ſpring,
With Ïefamins ſweet,and flowring Eglantine,
Vnder whoſe ſhade, the pritty birds did fing,
Melodious ftraines,celeſtiall and diuine:
With Delphian tunes, fuch as the mufes plays,
Filling the thickets, with their ſweet delayes.
B 3
The


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
The rouling pibbles,and the flinty ſtones,
Were foftly by, a fhallow current turned,
The murmering water, play'd with filuer ton's,
Loth to depart,and ſtaying,running mourned:
Whofe trickling-chriftall,muficke-sounding voice,
Into mine eares, did yeeld a pleaſing noyſe.
Such were the mirth,and pleaſant harmony,
The Organ ayre,did gently feeme to make,
With dulcean ſtraynes,of heauenly melody,
As once Mercurie whiſpred by the Lake:
Whoſe trembling breath,new defcants did deuise,
Till Iunoes Argus,clof'd his hundred eyes.
The pritty birds,did beare a ſweete record,
The bubling ſtreames,the vnder-fong did keepe,
The dallying wind,fuch muſicke did afford,
That almoſt rockt, my ſenſes faſt a ſleepe:
And well neare cauf'd me,for to take a nappe,
As I lay mufing, in yong Tellus lappe.
But then I heard, a fad lamenting voyce,
The which did cut,a paffage through the ayre,
And fild the woodes, with such a dolefull noiſe,
That all the groues,feem'd cloyed vp with care:
Which forc'd me, from that place for to arife,
And clof'd againe,my well neere flumbring eyes.
Then drew I neere,a little rifing rocke,
Whereas the waues, did daſh their high curld browes,
The birds and beafts,togither they did flocke,
Cooling themfelues,vnder thofe fhady boughes:
Which dangling hung, like to a golden fleece,
Over the head, of fayre Amphrifus neece.
And


Dolarnys Primerofe.
And vnderneath,a pleaſant Hawthorne tree,
The which did grow, neere to that rockie hill,
There did I ftand,to liſten and to fee,
The dolefull noyfe,the which the ayre did fill:
Iftayd not long, but well I might deſcrie,
VVhence did proceed, that wofull harmonye.
For neare that place,a ftately pine did grow,
Angerly fhaking, of his leauy crowne,
At whoſe ſterne feet, the humble fhrubs did bow,
Fearing the terrour,of his rugged frowne:
Vnder whofe armes, a wofull man did dwell,
The which did hold,that bower for his cell.
Where he did often,with lamenting cries,
Bewray the cauſe,of all his woefull cares,
The which did feeme,to pierce the vaulty ſkies,
And to diffolue,hard flints to briniſh teares:
To fill the woods, with noyfe as loud as thunder,
To ſplitt hard rockes,and rend great trees afunder.
Whom when I did, with full aſpect behold,
I muſing ſtood, his grieuous grones to heare,
His prayers were plaints, his fobs his folace told,
His myrth was moane,his cries were full of care:
With broken fighes,a thouſand times and more,
Thus he began, his forrowes to deplore.
Why did I breath? why did I take theayre?
Why did I fuck? why was I fed with milke?
Why was I young? why was I counted faire?
Why was I nurft? why was I clad in filke:
Why did I liue? why dyed I not being yong?
Why was I lul'd? why was I fweetly fung.
What


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
What cruell planet, gouernd at my birth?
VVhat diſmall ſtarre, that day or night did fhine?
VVhat loathſome vapour, ouerfpread the earth,
Vpon that fad, natiuity of mine?
Or did the hagges, with all their helliſh power,
Inchant, bewitch, or curfe that fatall houre?
O had the Midwife, when ſhe firſt receiu'd me,
With nimble hand, my vitall powers ſtopt,
Or had my nurſe, of liuing breath bereau'd me,
Theſe fields of forrow, I had neuer cropt:
But both I fummon, with impartiall eye,
As Actors in, my wofull Tragedy.
Yet did I liue,full twenty fommers long,
In fprings of ioy,one running ouer other,
How then poore foules, could they enact my wrongs?
No 'twas not they,it was my fofter mother:
Fortune'twas thee,that blyffefful men doft fpight,
Thou onely ftolft from me,my hearts delight.
Thou tot'ring elfe, with euer turning wheele,
That firft did fet, mee foft vpon thy knee,
And gau'ft me all,thy bleffings for to feele,
What cauf'd thee thus, vnkind to loure on me?
No 'twas not Fortune, ſhe was alwaies kinde
Filling my faile,ftill with a profperous winde.
Could any wretch,be then f'infortunate,
As 1 poore foule, whom Fortune feem'd to guide,
No,fortune no,it was thy cruell hate,
The which for me,thefe forrowes didft prouide:
Thou art the wretch,thou art the beldame vile,
Thou didft my heauen, my heart,and hope exile.
For


Dolarnys Primerofe.
For when my yeares, had furniſht forth my youth,
And twenty times, the funne had chang'd his light,
Thou moft perfidious, wauʼring ſtill in trueth,
My filly foule didft croffe, with cruel ſpight:
And onely thou,by falfhood didft deceiue mee,
Of ioy and bliffe,thou didst at once bereaue mee.
Thy circled wheele,thou didst to mee forth bring,
More richly deckt,then ere it was before,
Thou fetft me gently,on that fickle ring,
And gau'ft me pleaſure,in aboundant ſtore:
VVith many fauours, ftill thou didst belay mee,
But with thy falfhood, ſtill thou didst betray mee.
Thou drew'ft mee on,with loues intiſing bayte,
To walke the pathes, where thou a net hadft laid,
VVith thouſand fnares,thou didst vpon mee waite,
Vntill I was, of all my ioyes betrayd:
To defperate dangers, thou didft eafly wile mee,
VVhilft from my life,and loue thou didst exile mee,
Then did this heauy,hermit ſeeming man,
Stand mutely ftill,but ſtill he feem'd to moane,
His aged vifage, lookt both pale and wan,
His fadneffe he,redoubled with a groane:
He feem'd a while, vnto himselfe to mutter,
But yet no word,at al,I heard him vtter.
Vntill at length,him did I plainely ſee,
A ſtately picture,in his hand to take,
The which I geft, a holy faint to be,
For that fo much,of it he feem'd to make:
He kift it oft,and hugd it as he lay,
And thus at length,to it began to ſay.
Faire


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Fayre but vnkind,no kind: fie too too cruel,
Thirtie long years, with mee I haue thee borne,
Thrife ten yeares told,loues fire hath bene my fuel,
So long my heart,thy fayre imprint hath worne:
If Neftors yeares, thrife three times told I liue,
My loue alone, to thee I freelie giue.
Tell mee my loue, tell mee, why did'ft thou leaue mee?
Why to thy Loue, didft thou proue fo vnkind?
Pardon my deare, was death that did deceaue mee,
Yet art thou toomb'd, for euer in my mind:
Then did he weepe,bewayling of his harmes,
And with theſe words,he luld it in his armes.
O had theſe armes, thy liuing corps imbrac❜d,
But halfe fo oft,as now they have doone thee,
Tr.efe paths of forrow, I had neuer trac'd,
Nor died in thrall, but liu'd and died free:
But fith thou liuing, wert not in my power,
Ile hugge thy fhadowe,till my lateſt houre.
With which fad words,his grou❜ling corps did fall,
With gaftly colour,fighs abound-Lamenting,
Which forc'd mee rew,his fad and wofull thrall,
with rufull pittie, and with teares relenting:
I mou'd to ayde him, yet as loth to feare him,
I pauf'd a while, before that I came neare him,
For that he then, began to moue his eyes,
His earth-like hands, his heauie troncke did rayſe,
His fighs did vault,into the dimmed ſkyes,
His tongue forgat, not how his loue to prayſe:
But fearing leaſt,his fecrets ſhould be ſpied,
From out his bower, fullfecretly he pried.
Then


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Then with deepe fighs, he did agayne repeate,
The rare perfections, of his long dead loue,
Her comly graces, and her gesture neat,
The which did feeme the fenfleffe ftones to moue:
Which loue-fick plaints, my tongu's too weake to tel,
His penfiue paffions, did fo much excell,.
Nor could a volume,copie his loues defcriptions,
That were dislodged, from his wo-fwolne heart,
For he recited, with true loues affections,
A thouſand times,each limme and lineall parte:
All which by him,fo oft pronounced were,
That almoft dul'd,my fhallowe ſenſe to heare.
Yet did his fweet, ſophiſtick ſorrows tie,
My Leaden pow'rs,in chaynes of lift'ning ſteele,
With greedy ears,to fucke atentiuely,
His fugred fobs, the which I feem'd to feele:
For each fad ftraine, that from his lipps did paffe,
Bewrayd the birth-right,of his gentle race.
Then did he take,a faire delicious lute,
Whoſe well tun'd ſtring,she touch'dwith curious ſkill,
Forcing his fingars, with a ſwift purfute,
To ſtrike the frets, of muficks ground at will:
His nimble hand,guided by fupple veynes,
With heauenly pawfons,clof'd his dolefull ſtreynes.
Not great Apolloes viol-founding laies,
That forc'd huge Tmolus,daunce with bufkey haire,
When filly Midas, rob'd him of his prayſe,
Might with the defcants,of his Lute compare:
And with a tune, would moue a ſtone to pittie,
He fadly figh'd, and fong this mournfull dittie.
C 2
The


Dolarnys Primerofe.
The Hermites fong.
Y
E billes and dales,
Te rockes and vales,
Beare witneſſe of my moane:
Ye water nimphes,
Andpritty Imphes,
Come figh with mee and groane.
Come ye Satyres,and ye Fawnes,
Come ye from the pleaſant Lawnes:
From the groues,and fhady trees,
On whofe Green leaues,the humming bees,
Their thyes do fill,
At their owne will,
And whereon ftill,
With flittring wings,poore Progne flees.
Ye Fairy elues,
Come ye your felues,
Fom out each bollow caue:
And Coridon,
Come thou alone,
Thy prefence I do craue:
For thy pipe comfortingly,
Equalleth my harmony.
Mournfull Amyntas,now and thee
Are beft to beare me company:
For with confort,
We may report,
Our Loues extort,
With wofull ftraines of melody.
Ye


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
Ye Siluans all,
Both great and ſmall,
Come Listen to my greefe:
Te kids and Lambs,
Come with your dams,
And bring me fome releefe:
Thou maide of Comes,come to me,
VVith aide in this my miſerie,
And lead me once Æneas-like,
Vnto that vgly Stigian dike.
That I may mixe,
And yet perfixe,
Mine eye on Stix,
Where Cerberus liueth, that fowle tyke,
If that wearie,
Charons ferrie,
VVill no ways take mee in:
Vndoubting harmes,
VVith theſe mine armes,
Ile venture for to fwymme:
For fometimes his coaleblacke boate,
Rides not in that road afloate,
If fo, I will in no wife ftay,
Although vnto mine owne decay
In unfearing poar's,
VVith arming oars,
From off the fboars,
Ile quicklye poft from thence away.
For if that I,
Should chance to die,
And in that Lake to wander:
Yet fhould I gayne,
On Lofty straine,
Aboue
C 3


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Aboue-loue drown'd Leander.
But if that well I should paffe,
Vgly Charons muddie place,
And happily to land me there,
VVithin that faire celestiall Sphere,
Then with small payne,
Ifhould attaine,
Elizian plaine:
VVhere my loue fits crown'd in a chayre,
FINIS.
When he had finiſh't,vp his mournful fong,
He lai'd his lute,downe by his weary fide,
Himſelfe he ſtretcht,upon the graffe along,
And with fad waylings,thus agayne he cry'd:
How much avayles, it that my trauels farr,
Hath not worne out,the print of Cupides skarr?
What Chriſtian land, is it that hath not borne mee?
What Iland was,not fubject to my fight?
How many woods,and deferts ftill do fcorne mee?
But nothing yeelds,to mee my harts delight:
From place to place,Defire my corpsdoth carry,
Which fame defire, there will not let me tary.
Then did he figh, then wept,then figh'd amayne,
Then wrung his hands,then cried,then croft his armes,
Then tore his haire, then groan'd,then wept againe,
Then with fad teares,he thus bewayld his harmes:
Padua farwell,my loue in thee doth lie,
Within thy wals, I lost my libertie.
And


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
native home,
And Albion now,to thee my
Where firſt I did, receaue my vitall breath,
After all paines, paine to thee I come,
Within thy bounds,to giue myfelfe to death:
For fith my loue,my loue hath me forfaken,
My laft farewell, of Padua I haue taken.
But when alaffe, when fhall my forrows end?
When fhall I ceafe,of Padua for to cry?
When fhall I fee,fterne Atropos vnbend,
My wofull threed,of fad calamitie?
When fhall I leaue,in zealous cloake to ftand,
With loue-ficke cryes, to curfe both fea and land?
O let mee neuer,ceaſe with hideous cryes,
With dolefull tunes,and horred exclamations,
To fend my❜fighes,into the lofty ſkies,
And pearce the Chaos, with my inuocations,
Vntil theſe eies,that fed their rauin'd ſight:
Vpon Ægeffa, be depriu'd of light.
Thou fullen earth,with Anger fownding wo,
Ye bleating fawnes,fhaded with fheltring twigs,
Ye murm'ring waters, that with teares oreflowe,
Ye chirping birds, that chant the dauncing ſprigs:
Come all at once, your faddeft defcants bring,
My fayreÆgeflaes, epitaphs to fing.
Dead is my loue,dead are my hopes and Ioyes,
accurfed Fates,that of my loue bereft mee,
Curſt be al hopes, let hopes be hapleſſe toyes,
For loue,and loy,hope,hap,and all hath left mee:
And I remaine,vnceffantlie to cry,
Still lyuing, ftill,ten thouſand deaths to die.


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
O Let mee curfe,that day, the time and hower,
When firſt I left,faire Padua and my loue,
O let mee curfe,all gold and golden power,
By whofe fowle force,theſe vggly ſtorms I proue:
O let mee curſe,that time that I did gayne,
The name of Knight,to liue in hermites
payne.
But O my Loue, my Loue,and only Ioy,
My fayre Egea,Ægeffa Ile come to thee,
More fayre then Helen, facke of ftatelie Troye,
Once more Ile come,to fewe to court to woo thee:
Now I will come, to thine immortall fhrine,
Where thou doft liue,triumphant and diuine.
Then why do I,thus linger here and there,
And feeke not out,the way t' Auernus caue?
Wretch that I am, how can I thus forbeare,
Pining for want,of that which I would haue?
I Glaucus-like,do trauell day and night,
While fhee by Circe,is tranfformed quite.
Wherefore Ile go,like to that Thracian bold,
With this my lute,my iourney will I take,
Whoſe fretts and ftrings, Ile frame of glitring gold,
Then Orphe-like, Ile croffe that muddie lake:
And thou fayre Pallas,and ye muſes nine,
My hand and tongue, guide with your pow'rs diuine.
Venus I craue, a helping hand of thee,
Safe to conduct mee, through the Lethean fenns,
And thy ripe wit,lend me ſweet Mercury,
That I with eaſe,may paffe that mierie Themmes:
So that blacke Charon, with his fwartie oares,
May fet mee fafe,on Demogorgons fhoar's
Where


Delornys Primerofe.
•
Where Orphe-like, to Tenarus Ile go,
Which vgly gate, doth open towards the North,
There Cerberus fowle,doth make his triple fhowe,
There takes he in, but none he will put forth:
Ye fates vnreele,my lou's fad deſtinie,
Or I will feeke,her with Perfephone,
With that he clof'd,his hollowe wo-fwolne eyes,
And ſtretcht his lims, along the fenfeleffe ground,
His gaftly viſage, pierft the vaultie ſkyes,
Sometimes his eyballs,feem'd for to turne round:
With tortur'd groan's, then would he fadly gafpe,
With emptie palms,then did he weaklie grafpe.
Then did he lie, with quiu'ring legs and arms,
Then groueling craules, then feeblie fall againe,
Then as one ſtrucke, with magick ſpelles and charmes,
There would he feeme, quite breathleffe to remaine:
Thus did he lie, thus did he ſometimes welter,
But then ſtone ftill, the fhadows did him fhelter.
At which profpect, I could no longer ſtand,
But foone did runne,to helpe him in that cafe,
And water cold,I brought within my hand,
Wherewith I rubd, his pale and gaſtly face:
I raiſed him vp,then fet him downe againe,
Then puld him here, then thruſt him thence amay ne.
At length a figh,mixt with a greeuous groane,
He fent to tell,fome life in him was left,
The which did moue, my very heart to moane,
For that fo much, of fenfe he was bereft:
Yet laboring ftill,I mou'd him here and there,
Untill at length,he aſked who it were.
D
That


Dolarnys Primerofe.
That fo did wake him, from his quiet fleepe,
Which was fo much,vnto his hearts content,
With that he wept,but feeming not to weepe,
For feare that I, fhou'd reliſh what it ment:
He wip'd his eyes,that were ore-flow'd with teares,
And feem'd to baniſh,all his former cares.
Then vnto mee theſe ſpeeches he adreſt,
How could you finde,my fillie Hermits bower?
You did not well, to wake mee from my reft,
For in two dayes, I fcarfe doo fleepe one houre:
But that I am, a Hermit as you fee,
With good cauſe I, might with you angrie be.
Alas (quoth I) good gentle father heare mee,
And let not anger, harbour in your breſt,
Although you chide not, well your looks may feare mee,
For ages frownes,may breed a youthes vnreſt:
Then if you pleaſe, to heare what 1 fhall fay,
I will reueale, how I did chance this way.
And feeing you lai'd; as I you lying found,
Seeming quite breathleffe, in my iudgments eye,
With armes and legges,ftretcht forth vpon the ground,
Pitty did force,my harmleffe hand to trie:
As halfe amaz'd,the vn-approued doubt,
If Natures taper, were quite wafted out.
For furely fir,ifaccident fhould call mee,
Vnto a chance,fuch as this chance hath beene,
I tell you plaine, what hap fo ere befall mee,
The like effect,in mee fhould fure be ſeene:
For why I durft,haue paund my neighbours head,
Your body had,from out this world beene dead.
Thefe


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Theſe words I vttred, fomthing fmilingly,
With hum'rous gefture,and a pleafing vaine,
Becauſe I would not,haue him willingly,
Thinke that I knew, aught of his wo and paine:
And truth to tell, I could no better make them,
Becauſe that he,could no wayes better take them.
Forthen he calmelie, did defire of mee,
To fhew what paftimes, I did moſt imbrace,
What country man,and what my name might be,
And eke what chance, had brought mee to that place:
This did he aske, with words fo faire and coole,
As he his time,had ſpent in Nurtures fchoole.
I not denying, of his kinde requeſt,
With fad difcourfe, my name and country told,
And fome light toye,that harbored in my breſt,
I did not let,to him for to vnfold:
But for the chance,that brought mee to that place,
Thus did I glofe it, with a brafen face.
Auroraes fpring,that ripes the golden mornes,
No fooner pried, ore the mountaines tops,
But that the Huntſmen, winded out their hornes,
Calling the Dogs, into a grouie cops:
I follow'd on,at length there did appeare,
Rowf'd from the wood,a luftie fallow Deare.
The hounds purfu'd,the huntſmens ecchoing noiſe,
Did feeme throughout,the fhadie groues to ring,
Vnskild of horne,fcarfe with a huntſmans voice,
I follow'd ftill,to fee that nouell thing:
'Twere foll'in me, Therfites like to vaunt it,
But the huntſmen,and the hounds did chaunt it.
D 2
The


Delornys Primerofe.
The greeued hart, with teares bewayles his caſe,
The egar dogs,did lightly paffe the grounds,
A Paduan brach, was foremoſt in the chaſe,
For fhe did leade,the other crie of hounds:
Which cauf'd the hart,to fcud with nimble heels,
Ore hills and dales,ore craggie bracks and fields.
Then did he fall, into a heard of deere,
Then to the foile, then to the heard againe,
Then in the woodes, he faintlye did appeere,
Then ore the mountaines,thence into a plaine:
And all this while, the houndes had not a checke,
But ſtill did feeme, to take him by the necke.
And formoft ftill, that faire Italian hounde,
The which was thought, to be of Spartan kinde,
Of all the reft,fhe feem'd to gather ground,
For fhe did run,as fwift as any winde:
Which cauf'd the deere,in's necke to laie his hornes,
And fo to poft,through brambles, briers and thornes.
The huntſmen glad, to ſee their ſport ſo good,
Did winde their hornes,to courage vp their houndes,
The fillie deere, did haften to the wood,
The dogs full crye, did keepe a narrowe boundes:
So that fometimes, they ſeem'd his hanche to nipp,
Which cauf'd him feeblie, from there gripes to flippe.
Ore buſhe and brier, the dogs did ſeeme to make him,
Bounce,leape, and ſkippe,when he could ſcarcely go.
I follow ftill, but could not ouertake him,
Yet did I croffe, and meete him to and fro:
Then in the groues, the houndes did ring apace,
with yelping voyces, in that follemne chace,
Then


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Then here, then there,the ecchoing wood refounded,
Of thoſe ſhrill notes,difplay'd with hornes and hounds,
The noyfe whereof, into the ſkies rebounded,
Throughout the hills,and all the daly grounds:
Which paſtime rare,my tongue denyes to tell,
The hunting muficke, did fo much excell.
Then for to meete, the game a neerer way,
I walkt along,a dale hard by a fountaine,
Whereas a while,to drinke I there did ſtay,
Then did I climbe,the top of yonder mountaine:
Where I might view, at large the vally grounds,
But could not heare, the huntſmen nor the hounds.
Then looking tow'rd,this little fhady plaine,
Like a yong
yong huntſman, I began to call,
Whereas me thought, one anſwered me againe,
That feem'd my voyce,in his for to inſtall:
I fomething angry, came along the ground,
But then I knew,it was an ecchoes found,
Thus hauing loft,the fport I came to fee,
And knowing not where, to feeke the fame againe,
My minde did with,my weary legs agree,
Homeward to go,thorough this couert plaine:
Thus leauing off, the lufty red Deeres chaſe,
It was my chance,to finde you in this place.
Then howfoere, I pray you pardon mee,
Were you aſleepe, or were you in a fownd,
Or in a traunce,as fo you well might be,
But furely dead, you feem'd when I you found;
Chance is but chance,then for this chace excufe me,
Sith in my thoughts, I did no whit abuſe ye.
D 3
Thus


Delornys Primeroſe.
Thus haue I told you, all you did demand,
And more will tell you,if you do requeſt it,
Ther's nothing lieth,within my powerleffe hand,
But age fhall haue it,els I will deteft it:
Then aſke and haue, ther's nought conſiſts in mee,
But you free owner, of the fame fhalbe.
Then did he feeme, to cloake both wrath and loue,
The heate of one, did quench the others fire,
Where two extremes,in one doth feeme to moue,
It qualifieth,the hotneffe of defire:
For neither mou'd,with loue nor fretfull ſpleene,
Clad in theſe words,his ſpeech was neatly feene.
Your curtefies,excel farre my desert,
My merits no way, can them counteruayle,
But if my loue,or aught within my heart,
Can equall them, I will in no wayes fayle:
But what you haue,in kindeneffe fhew'd to mee,
By mee ſhall no wayes,vnrequited bee.
For looke what nurture, doth by nature owe,
Vnto a ſtranger, you haue fhewed to mee,
Then if that I,a ftranger fhould not ſhowe,
Such curteous deeds, as might with yours agree:
Well might I gaine,my felfe a ſcandall crime,
And fhew miff-ſpent, the trauells of my time.
But fith that now, the funne hath well neare paſt,
His half daies courſe, climbing the lofty ſphere,
And that long trauell,in your lims hath plaſt,
Hungar and thirft, with hunting of the Deere:
Let me intreate you, with these cates of mine,
In this my bower, this once with mee to dine.
I


Dolarnys Primerofe.
I gaue him thankes, and feem'd right well content,
At which my words, the Hermit turn'd him round,
Vnto his fcrip,he then directly went,
Taking a cloth,and ſpread it on the ground:
And as his cloth,and cates he neatly layed,
With fmyling tearmes, theſe words to mee he fayd.
Sir thinke not now,your felfe in towne or court,
For to bee pamperd, with delicious fare,
For here remaynes,no pompe nor ſtately port,
But thinke you here, inuiorn'd round with care:
Here vſe we not,our bellies for to fill,
But feed at neede, fterne hungar for to kill.
With that hee went,to fetch fome water in,
While I ſtood mufing,for to fee his fare,
For he had fet,a ſkull for to begin,
Which would haue moou'd,a prodigall to care:
And right againſt it,ftood an houre glaſſe,
Where one might fee,how ſwiftly time did paffe.
Then did he fet,an earthern pot of flowers,
Whofe colour cleare, was withered quite away,
Then did he fet,two other, whoſe faire powers,
Seem'd to contayne,the pleaſures of the day:
And then a booke,and then a little bell,
But what that ment,my fenfes could not tell.
No bit of meate,vpon the table ſtood,
But fome fewe rootes,the which alone did lie,
Alas thought, I,this is but fimple food,
Yet for this once, I will not him deny:
But I will fit,and thinke I haue good meate,
That I may fee,how he theſe cates wil eate.
Then


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Then with his pitcher, he came in againe,
Fill'd with fayre water, from a fountain cleare,
And purer farre,then filuer drops of raine,
That falleth in, the Aprill of the yeare:
Then with theſe words, he tooke mee by the hand,
You fee your fare, then doo not muſing ſtand.
But fit you downe, vpon theſe flowers by mee,
Although courſe fare, to dinner you ſhall haue,
Yet fit I pray,and beare mee companye,
For nere good fare, was in a Heremits caue:
Yet if that want,thereof your fenfe doth dull,
Our table talke,ſhall ſurely fill you full.
Then fat I downe, vpon the carpet graffe,
Where after thankes,to God for that our meate,
He did begin, the dinner time to paffe,
With fad diſcourſe, but not a bit did eate:
For in his hand, he tooke the dead mans ſcul,
The which did feeme,to fill his ftomacke full.
He held it ſtill,in his finiſter hand,
And turn'd it foft,and ftroakt it with the other,
He fmil'd on it,and oft demurely faund,
As it had beene, the head of his owne brother:
Oft would h'haue ſpoke, but ſomething bred delay,
At length halfe weeping,theſe words did he fay.
This barren fçull,that here you do behold,
Why might it not,haue beene an Emperours head?
Whoſe ſtore-houſe rich, was heap'd with maffy gold,
If it were fo,all that to him is dead:
His Empire crowne,his dignities and all,
When death tooke him, all them from him did fall.
Why


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Why might not this,an Empreffe head haue beene,
Although nowe bare, with earth and crooked age?
Perhaps it was, the head of fome great Queene,
Vertuous in youth, though now fpoil'd with earths rage:
Well if it were,fo rich a treaſure once,
Now tis no more but rattling gaftly bones.
Say that it were, the head of fome great man,
That wifely fearcht,and pri'd out euery cauſe,
And that inuented,eu'ry day to skanne,
The deep diſtinctions, of all forts of laws:
And fomtimes fo,cut off his neighbours head,
Why if it were,himfelfe is now but dead.
And might it not,a Lady fomtimes ioye,
T'haue deckt,and trim'd,this now rainbeaten face,
With many a trick,and new-found pleafing toye?
Which if that now,fhe did behold her cafe:
Although on earth,fhe were for to remaine,
She would not paint,nor trimme it vp againe.
Why might not this,haue beene fome lawiers pate,
The which fometimes, brib'd, brawl'd,and tooke a fee,
And lawe exacted,to the higheſt rate?
Why might not this,be fuch a one as he?
Your quirks,and quillets, now fir where be they,
Now he is mute, and not a word can ſay.
Why might not this, haue garniſht forth fome dame,
Whoſe fole delight, was in her dog and fanne,
Her gloues,and maſke, to keepe her from the aime,
Of Phebus heate,her hands or face to tanne:
Perhaps this might,in euery fort agree,
To be the head,of fuch a one as fhee.
E
Or


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
Or why not thus,fome filthie pander flaue,
That broaker like, his foule doth fet and fell,
Might not haue dyed,and in an honeſt graue,
After his death,gone thether for to dwell:
And I come there, long after he were dead,
And purchaſe fo,his filthy panders head.
Or fay 'twere thus,fome three chind foggie dame,
The which was fo, but then a bawd was turn'd,
And kept a houſe,of wanton Venus game,
Vntill fuch time, her chimneis all were burn'd:
And there fome one, with Gallian fpice well fped,
May dye of that, and this might be her head.
But OI runne,I runne too farre aftray,
And prate and talke, my wits quite out of doore,
Say 'twere a King, Queene, Lord,or Lady gay,
A Lawyer, Minion, Pander,or a whore:
If it were noble, t'were not for mee to creake on.
If it were bafe,it were too vile to ſpeake on.
But what fo ere it was,now 'tis but this,
A dead mans fcull,vfurped from his graue,
Yet doo I make it,ftill my formoſt diſh,
For why? 'tis all the comfort that I haue :
In that I may, when any dine with mee,
Shew what they were,and eke what they ſhall bee.
Then on the cloath, he fet it downe againe,
And with a figh,hart-deepe with halfe a groane,
Which drew falt teares,from out his eyes amaine,
Although he cloak'd them,with a prittie moane:
Well fir quoth he,although your chear's not great,
This is the fawfe,you fhall haue to your meate.
Which


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Which I no nigard, wiſh you not to ſpare,
Although it be an ill digeſting meate,
Yet fuch it is, that we muſt knowe and heare,
Though wee not that, yet that our liues will eate:
And who foere, with in my bowre fhall dine,
Shall taft this fawfe,ere any cates of mine."
2
Then did hee giue, mee of his rootie foode,
And bad mee eate, and hee tooke of the fame,
Hee eate thereof,affirming it were good,
But I to taſte it, knew not how to frame:
And yet becauſe, that I was hunger-beaten,
I chaw'd a bit, and feem'd as though I had eaten.
Then did he take,his pitcher in his hand,
And courteouſly,did proffer drinke to mee,
I wil'd him drinke,and I at his commande,
Nexte tafter of, that fame his drinke woulde bee:
Hee dronke thereof, and after fo did I,
And fett the pott,vpon the ground vs by.
Then in his hand, he tooke the houre glaffe,
And theſe like words,to me he did bewraye,
Behold faith he, how here the time doth paffe,
Tread you vpright,or go you quite a ſtray:
Here may you fee,how ſwift your time doth runne,
And ceafeth not,vntill your life be doone.
This glaffe euen now, was full of flipery ſand,
This glaffe even now, was like the prime of youth,
This glaffe euen now, was fill'd with plentyes hand,
Only in this, you may behold Times truth:
Here you may fee, that time is alwayes fliding,
This is a mirrour, of fickle tims abiding.
E 2
See


Dolarnys Primerofe.
See how it glides,fee,fee,how fafte it runne,
Say a good life,vpon this time did dwell,
wer't not too foone,his houre ſhould be come,
If hee in vertue,others did excell:
No,were he Mofes, Dauidor Salomon,
His time thus come,his life muft needs be gon.
Now'tis full out, the lampe hath burn'd the oyle,
This houres funne,within this glaffe is fet,
Were this a man, he now were free'd from toyle,
All earthly labors, now he would forget:
And as this fand, within this glaffe lie ftill,
So fhould the earth,his breathleffe body hill.
Without more words,the glaffe he did fet downe,
And tooke two potts,of flowers in his hands,
Hee knit his browes,and feemed for to frowne,
Yet of the vertues, thus at length he ſkans:
Theſe with'red flowers, were as faire as theſe,
And theſe faire flowers, wilbe as foule as theſe.
This pot of flowers, that dead and with'red be,
In prime of fhew,but yeſterday were growing,
Their blafted lookes, thus faded as you fee,
Were yeſterday,both pleaſant freſh and flowing:
What wee are all,by theſe wee may deuine,
When death fhall cut,our thred and fatall line.
And theſe faire flowers,that now fo faire doo feeme,
Whoſe powers were fofter'd, with this mornings deaw,
Their gaudy time,as I do iuftly deeme,
Is nigh halfe ſpent,as triall fhall proue true:
For ere their lookes,the morrow light ſhall fee,
Their pleaſant hewe,full with'red off fhalbe.
Theſe


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Theſe faded flowers, are like vnto the man,
The which cold dead,vpon the ground doth lie,
With gaftly colour,vifage pale and wan,
And many mourners, him attending by:
His life thus gon, his body nothing craue,
But to be hid, within an earthly graue.
The with'red flowers,then he did fet downe,
And tooke the flowers,equall to the other,
Which when they were, each one by other fhowne,
Scarfe could I deeme,the on's hew from the other:
But that the laft, in's right hand he did hold,
The first of them,his left hand did infold.
Then with fad lookes,he figh't and thus befpake,
Behold thefe flowers,a paradox in yeares,
With fuch remorfe, theſe ſpeeches from him brake,
That he did partly, fmother them with teares:
Behold (quoth he) the man that liues in payne,
And eke the man,that doth in ioye remaine.
Thefe flowers (quoth he) his right had flowers meaning,
Doth reprefent, the life,of happie men,
The which with vertue,in their bounds conteining,
Do leade their liues,that none may looke agen:
Whofe humane courſe,no man hath euer feene,
To be corupt, with fretfull ire or fpleene.
Theſe flowers are like,the man who from his youth,
Hath led his life,in pathes of vpright wayes,
Th'are like to him, that ftrayth not from the truth,
But liues in goodneffe,all his youthfull dayes:
Th'are like to him, whofe yeares doo not decay,
But liueth young,vntill his lateſt day.
E 3
Thefe


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Thefe flow'rs(quoth he,) were cropt two days ago,
But yet doo keepe, their perfect colour ſtill,
The water is,the cauſe why they doe fo,
For why?brim-full,this ſmall pot I did fill:
So looke where vertu's,fill'd with ſweet content,
There life or colour,will not foone be ſpent,
Yet euen as beauty, from theſe pretty flowers,
Though moiftly kept, at length will quite confume,
Sofhall that man, who hath with all his powers,
Decked him felfe,in vertues ſweet perfume:
For though he feeds, long on moift vertues breath,
Yet at the length,he yeelds himſelfe to death.
Then did he looke,vpon his left hand flowers,
Alaffe (quoth he,)me thinks I fee you fade,
The drouth of wo, confumeth all your powers,
Y'are burnt with heat,though always kept in fhade:
For euen as care,like fire confumes a man,
So drouth in fhade, your beauteous colours tanne.
Theſe flow'rs are like, the willfull prodigall,
That vnthrift-like, fpendeth his youthfull dayes,
Mounting vp ftill,euen fodenly to fall,
By in directing, of his willfull wayes:
His riotous life,his toyes and lauiſh tongue,
Makes him looke old, when that he is but young.
Th'are like to him, that wantons it abroad,
With midnight reuills, kept in Venus court,
Sparing no coft, but lai'th on golden loade,
And in a brothell,keeps Lordly port:,
But when his purſe,and vaynes are all drawn drye,
Though he's but young, he lookes as he would die.
Th'are


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Th'are not vnlike,a vertuous nurtur'd child,
The which did flowriſh, in his tender yeares,
But got the reines,grows headſtrong proud and wilde,
Till all his graine,is turn'd to frutleffe tares:
Then full of care, he leaues his fooliſh ioy,
And looks like age, when he is but a boie.
Good fir(quoth he,) thus haue I to you ſhowne,
The vertu's of,theſe feuerall forts of diſhes,
My glaffe and flowers, you the taft haue knowne,
Although not fill'd, with fleſh nor dayntie fishes:
And with thoſe words, he did ſet downe the flowers,
Feeding againe,for to reuiue his powers.
Not paſt two bits,the filly man did eate,
When in his hand,he tooke the booke and bell,
And thus of them,began for to intreat,
Whilft droping teares,from his fad eies befel:
This booke(quoth he) a mans ſhape ſeems to haue,
And this the bell,that cals him to his
graue.
This Little booke,prefents the life of man,
Wherein is wrap'd,the fubftance of his foule,
Which be it freſh,or be it pale or wan,
T' muſt ſeparate, when as this bell doth toule:
How vertuous,bad, or pure foere it be,
When death doth call,foule muſt from body flee.
Within this booke,doth ſpring the well of life,
Which fountaine cleare,giues drinke to al that crauesit,
Heare li'th the fword,that ends all Kindes of ſtrife,
Deny'd to none,but all that feeks it haue it:
And they that vfe, this fword,or water cleare,
This bells alarum,need not for to feare,
Within


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Within this booke,good men renew their fight,
When as they bathe,their liquid veines therein:
To heare this bell,it doth their foules delight,
They feare not death, they force him not a pin:
For when ſterne death, thinkes moſt their foules t'anoy,
This is their ſhield, they thinke him but a toy.
This booke(quoth'he) fhould Vfurers behold,
And foule vfurpers,of their neighbours land,
That robs the poore, and heapes vp hoordes of gold,
Tonote it well,they would amazed ſtand:
And from thoſe lands,and bagges of money fall,
For feare this Bell,to Limbo fhould them call.
If drunkards,gluttons,or lafciuious men,
Would deeply diue,into this ſmall bookes lines,
Their owne black leues, they would turne ore agen,
And foone bewaile,their monſter like ſpent times:
Arming themfelues, with this,the fcourge of hell,
Leaft they ſhould feare, the tolling of the Bell.
Or if that they, who fwell with haughty pride,
Within this bookefhould make their looking-glaffe,
Or if falſe theeues,fhould here their fhares diuide,
And view it well, before they hence did paffe:
Pride and Celeno,they would both go pray,
For feare this Bell, to hell fhould them conuay.
But if a good,and vertuous liuing man,
Should chance to prie,within this little booke,
He neede not feare,for he already can,
The calmie lines with faire digeſture brooke:
If death him call, he doth him ſtraight defie,
Only he knowes, from this world he muſt dye.
This


Dolarnys Primerofe.
This Bell preſents,the Crier of a Court,
The which in time,doth call both good and bad,
Each man thereto,muft duly make refort,
For when he calles,an anfwer muſt be had:
And when pale death,fhall fhut vpall our powers,
The dolefull bell,doth ſtrike our lateſt houres.
With which fad words, he fet them on the cloath,
Now fir(quoth he) y'haue tafted all my fare,
The which to fhew,to fome I would be loath,
But ſpeake I pray,how doo yee like this cheere:
Well: but mee thinkes, 'tis ill digeſting food,
No fir quoth he, 'tis pleaſant ſweet and good.
For if a Prince, ſhould chance to come this way,
And in mine Arbour,fit as now you doo,
Theſe cates and cheere, to him I would forth lay,
him looke,and taſte vpon it too:
And pray
And would not let,his pardon for to craue,
To tell him this, doth reprefent his graue.
Or if a Queene, with all her courtly traine,
Offtates and peeres, of Lords and Ladies gay,
Should come within,this little fhadie plaine,
And in the Cell of poore Maluchus ſtay:
What ſhould detaine, my tongue it might not tell,
They muſt not aye,in earthly pleaſures dwell?
Let all the Lawyers,lodg'd within new Troy,
And all the dames,that mincing minions are,
The pandar flaues, and ftrumpets ſeeming coye,
Come here to mee, and none of them Ile ſpare:
But tell them all, and that with ſmall offence,
Their time will come, and that they muſt pack hence.
F
If


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
If miftreffe Maudlin, with her golden locks,
Whoſe lemman knowes,his well-grift-forked browes,
Or miſtreffe Maukin,who fate twife i'th ſtocks,
Should vndermine,thefe Hermit-fhading bowes:
I would not let, their perfon thus to greete,
Amend, your end,is but a winding ſheete.
Let them that ſpend,the flower of their time,
The Venus wanton,and the prodigall,
Who doo not take, the funne while it doth ſhine,
But let it paffe,and thinke not of their fall:
Let them come here, but once and dine with mee,
And here Ile tell them, what their end fhall bee.
Let thofe that hoard,vp gold and filuer ſtore,
And neuer thinkes, to part from it againe,
But fterue poore Orphans,at their wretched dore,
And fillie foules, for want thereof are flaine:
Let them looke here,here fhall they plainly fee,
At their laſt houre, what there beft end ſhall bee.
Let pride,and theft,and glutton-drunkenneſſe,
And all the tribe,of mifcreant demeanour,
With all lafciuious, folly and exceffe,
Repaire to this,my little fhadie bower:
And taſte this fare,as you haue done with mee,
Then ſhall they know, what their beſt end ſhall be.
Yet fir,quoth he,farre be it from your heart,
That you
fhould take,a bad conceipt herein,
But of my words,and cheere receiue a part,
And thinke you welcome,to this homely Inne:
Nor doo I fpeake it,but that you ſhould gaine,
Some pleaſure by,your long ſpent time and paine.
But


Dolarnys Primerofe.
But now I fee,an houre is fully ſpent,
Since we fat downe, within this homely place,
Wherefore if you, be therewithall content,
Weele end our dinner, with a thankfull, grace:
Which being done,if that you pleaſe to ſtay,
We will diſcourſe,to ſpend this Summers day.
I was content,the dutie was effected,
The borde was drawne,and all was laid afide,
Each on his feate,in fhadow ſweet elected,
And then the Hermit,thus his fpeech did' guide:
Good fir(quoth he)now doo I call to minde,
The Paduan brach,that was of Spartan kinde.
I pray you tell mee,doo you know her maister,
I aske not that,a Huntſman I would be,
But that I heard,you ſay ſhe did runne faſter,
Then all the hounds,in that wood founding crye:
Faine would I know,him that in Padua ought her,
And eke the man,that into Albion brought her.
I bluſht to heare,him name the dogge againe,
That I had nam'd,but neither feene,nor found,
For why? the hunting was a morall plaine,
Himſelfe the Hart, his loue the Paduan hound:
Yet that I might,protect my felfe from ſhame,
Thus vnto him,an anſwer I did frame,
Sir,that faire brach, a curteous Knight doth keepe,
Who in his armes, will hugge the tatling elfe,
And in his bofome,fuffers her to creepe,
So that the Ape, growes curft,and bites himſelfe;
And wer't not that, I ſhould be thought to glory,
Of them I could, diſcourſe a pretty ſtorie.
F 2
No


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
No fir,quoth he,if that you pleaſe to tell,
That faire diſcourſe,deriu'd from Italy,
I cannot thinke,that glory vaine doth dwell,
Within that breft, where vertue feemes to lie:
Nor will I fuffer,you to take the paine,
Vnleffe by lott, you doo the place attaine.
For that from Padua,I did late returne,
And with theſe eyes, I fadly did behold,
A fight the which,doth cauſe me yet to mourne,
The which my tongue,did neuer yet vnfold:
Wherefore by lot, we may difcerne right well,
Which of vs two,the firft difcourfe fhall tell.
The lots were caft,the Hermits was the charge,
He must prepare,to tell the firſt diſcourſe,
When I did thinke,that I ſhould heare at large,
His loue-fick paffions,fighed with remorſe:
But he as one,that reueld in difpaire,
Began his Romaine ftorie to declare.
0000
The Hermites difcourfe.
W Here grifly cares,floweth vntamed tides,
Within the Ocean of a penfiue breft,
There forrowes ſhip, ſtill at an anchor rides,
Beaten with waues,of boiling thoughts vnreft:
Whole ftormes of fighes,againſt that ſhip is fent,
Vntill her heart-worne,tacklings all are rent.
For


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
For when my hart, began to harbour griefe,
And that my thoughts,had entertayned wo,
In deferts wilde, I fought to finde releefe,
And path-les paths, my vncouth ſteps did know:
Vntill at length, I did behold and fee,
Each fenfeleffe creature,boyftrous ftormes did flee.
The ſtormes did force, the Lyon leaue his pray,
The wily Fox,to haſten to his hoale,
The ſtormes did force, the Wolfe to houle and bray,
The hinde to fteale, to couert with her foale.
The ſtormes did force,th' Antilop for to hide her,
In fhelters fafe,conducted by the Tiger.
The vgly Beare,vnto her whelps did runne,
The briſtled Bore,retired from his food,
The bounfing Doa, vnto the brakes did come,
The fearefull hare,did haften to the wood:
And all the beafts, that natures art did mould,
Some harbour fought,to keepe them from the cold.
Then did I likewiſe,to my Chamber go,
Whofe walls were painted, with oreflowing teares,
Mixt with the colour, of diftreffe and wo,
Drawne out with knots,of hopeleffe griefe and feares:
My bed of forrowe, I had lately bought,
My fheets with fighs, moft fumptoufly were wrought.
My bolfter fill'd,with fad lamenting groanes,
My pyllowe all, imbrodred ore with care,
My blanckets framed,full of wayling moanes,
My couering,imboffed with difpaire:
Thus was my Chamber, deckt on euery ſide,
With wo and griefe, wherein I did abide.
F 3
Where


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
Where I had time,and place inough to mourne,
With fainting teares,there might I feaſt my fill,
There might my fighs,redoubled well returne,
From hollow vaults,and eu'ry little hill:
There to my felfe, my ſelfe was left aloane,
None left to heare, the tenure of my moane.
For if there had, perhaps they would but fmile,
And laugh,and fcoffe,at my fad foules lament,
Where, with the fighs,that I did time beguile,
Would ſhake great hilles,or ftony rockes haue rent:
But fuch they were,as to my felfe were eafing,
Content my minde, and to myſelfe were pleaſing.
Ten thouſand fighs, I fent to fill the aire,
When from the aire,I fuckt them vp againe,
A thouſand times, I did repeate my care,
When ſtill my care,did with my felfe remaine:
I figh'd,I fobd,and weeping,hands did wring,
And fometimes fong,my woes with fonnetting.
But after that, I had my felfe tormented,
With horred groanes, whereon I daylie fed,
So that the rugged,breathleffe ftones lamented,
I wrapt my felfe, in that care couer'd bed:
Where thus my thoughts,did meditate on griefe,
Not knowing how,nor where to finde releefe.
The malecontent,is wayted on with wo,
The Louers life,is care ore-guilt with ioyes,
The penitent,his breft with fobs doth flowe,
Shedding out teares,his penfiue foule auoydes:
Sighes at a beck,to each of them do fall,
Sorrow doth fit,attending on them all.
The


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
The malecontent, he neyther eates nor fleeps,
But meditates,vpon he knowes not what,
His daring eies,vpon the earth ftill peepes,
But what he feekes, his fenfes quite forgat:
His fuilen thoughts,doth feede on bitter gall,
Moft is his mirth, when greateſt is his thrall.
Farre more hee labours,in his troubled minde,
Then all the Plough-men,in a thouſand feelds,
His harueft reapt, when ſeaſons are moſt kinde,
Leffe is his gaine, then leaſt of all theirs yeelds:
Hee thinkes his ftate,is happier then many,
Yet loues, nor hates,nor feares,nor cares for any.
His life he loues,as men loues fommers fnowe,
For life and death,are both to him all one,
A life to death,he's fure that he doth owe,
Hee death imbraceth,ere that his life is
With this his vayne, hee thinkes the Gods haue bleft
And in this vaine,he go❜th a while to reſt him.
gone:
The Louer fad,I moane with kinde remorse,
For why? I knowe no furgeon can him cure,
His vnfeene wounds,are of ſo ſtrange a force,
That liuing long,no wight can them indure:
(him)
He's frizing hotte,and liuing alwayes dead,
Difpayring hopes,and loofing thinkes him fped,
He's well yet ficke,and knowes not wher's his griefe,
He's burning cold, he hath and yet he ſkants,
He's feeking ftill, though neuer findes releete,
His heart feemes pleaf'd, yet that he wish he wants,
Twixt two extreames,his fhip is alwaies fayling,
He thinkes him fped, when all his baits are fayling.
Hee


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Hee mourning fings,hee fmiles in forrow fad,
Hee dying liues,and liues by alwaies dying,
Hee nought inioyes, yet with his nothing glad,
Hee ftill purfewes,where hee fees nothing flying:
His reftleffe pangs, would make a world to wonder,
Yet drowfie fleep,doth force him to a flumber.
The penitent,that doth in anguiſh payne,
Hee finking fwims,in gulfes of deepe difpaire,
In fhade he fitts,his funne doth fildome ſhine,
His drinke is wo,his meate is clogged care:
Hee hopes, he feares,and thus in hoping ioyes,
Hope makes him glad,but fearing him annoyes,
To vncouth places, he doth alwayes hant,
His penfiue confcience, wills him there to wander,
His tort'red body,feemes to feele more want,
Then for his Hero,did loue-drown'd Leander:
No defert darke,nor pleaſant lawne long holds him,
But weary ſtill, his iuie armes infolds him.
He fighing peeps,from earth vnto the ſkies,
Then wofull lookes,from ſkie to earth againe,
From earth he came,in heauen his comfort lies,
Thus on he walkes,twixt mutuall ioy and paine:
In darkfom night,nor yet in plealing day,
His life nere ftands,at one contented ſtaye.
Well do I know,the teares and bitter moane,
The penitent, doth vtter with his wayling,
For in that griefe, I feele my felfe as one,
That haue a fhip, within that Ocean fayling:
And hope at length, with others that haue ftore,
To bring my thip,vnto a happy fhore.
Thus


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Thus did I lie, with fundry meditations,
Thus were my thoughts, with diuers changes led,
Which mufings were,my chiefeft confolations,
Till drowſie fleepe, was hanging in my head:
Which then began,my fenſes to ſurpriſe,
Binding the deawie,clofures of mine eies.
But flumber foft,no fooner had inclof'd,
The watry windows,of my wofull eies,
When as mee thought,a champion bold oppof'd,
My fleeping fenfes, with fad miferies:
Whofe warlike lims,in iron rough were girt,
The which defcry'd, the courage of his heart.
His burgonet,his vaunbrace and his ſheeld,
Were framed all,of fire tempered ſteele,
With golden ſtarres,amid a fable feeld,
Whoſe maſſie ſubſtance,I did feeme to feele:
Fixt was his beauer, voy'd of plumie fanne,
Or quainte deuife,vpon his helme to ſtande.
At which dread fight,my fenfes were amazed,
Though drowfie winkes,did rock them ſtill aſleepe,
Mine eies did feeme,to wake,and waking gazed,
Yet heauie flumbers,clofly did them keepe:
But then his voice,that feem'd my heart to ſhake,
Vnbound his tongue, which then theſe words befpake.
Awake,awake,ye winged wits of Rome,
Your flying fancies, wrapt in fiery ayre,
Sing Iulius worth,Agricola intoombe,
Your fpirits high, cloſed in manſions faire,
Too long haue flept,in Loues delicious awe,
Forgetting ftill, your kind Agricola.
G
But


Dolarnys Primerofe.
But where am I? or where doe I declare,
My wofull name, with proftrate invocations?
What ſhall my forows, pearce an Albions eare?
And fright poore Padua with my exclamations?
No: let me firſt,from faire Elizea fal,
And choake the deep'ft, infernall with my thrall.
O no: let Rome,let Rome fucke vp mine anguiſh,
Let Rome the mother,of my infants yeares,
Swell with my fighs,in which my foule ſtill languiſh,
Let Rome difolue,her felfe with dolefull teares:
Let Roman Poets,fing great Iulius name,
With blazing trophees, of eternall fame.
But they are gone,from Romes terreftiall verges,
whoſe muſe admir'd, were crown'd with quiu'ring baies,
O they are dead,that ſhould haue fong my derges,
With dolefull langours,and diftrefffull layes:
He liu's in bliffe, that fung the warres of Troye,
Dead is the fwayn,that told of Phillis ioye.
Yet doth he liue,eternized with glory,
That fweetly fung renowmed Scipioes warres,
He liues that told Æmillaes laſting ſtory,
Mixt with Anthonius,and Octauius iarres:
A thouſand more, doo liue,whoſe fames doe ring,
Yet none of dead,Agriola will fing.
Wherefore fith I,of force am fummon'd here,
The ftorie of my, wofull dayes to tell,
And Rome denies,to lend her liftning eare,
Attend Maluchus,and with forrows fwell.
That Albion faire,may wayle my tragedy,
Which fleeping waking, thou fhalt heare of mee.
When


Dolarnys Primerofe.
When great Vefpafian,wore the diadem,
Of Romes large Empire,and with conquering hand,
Had wonne the wals,of faire Ierufalem,
Whoſe ſtately towers, were at his comand:
The Romes ſweet aire, my youngling daies did nuroiſh,
Her nectar pappes, my infancie did cheriſh.
Where, whilſt my years, were tender, foft and young,
In learnings cradle, I was lai'd to ſleepe,
My carefull tutor,ore mee fweetly fung,
And I fome ſtraines,of his did note and keepe:
Efteeming them,fo highly in my power,
That I did hug them,till my lateſt houre.
Then did I frame,my tongue to courtly charmes,
And how to tread,the diftance of a dance,
And then I practf'd,how to manage armes,
To toffe a pike,and how to weeld a lance:
Then with found rackets, clofe within a wall,
I nimibly learn'd,to toffe a tenniffe ball.
To hunt a deere, I fomtime tooke delight,
And fometime fee,the lightfote hare to play,
And fometime with,an egar fawlcons flight,
I would confume,the weary long fome day:
A foamng fteed, then would I learne to pace,
And fwallow-fwift,runne him a double race.
Then in a ring,I would him gently trot,
A full cariere,then did I learne to make,
Then to curuet,then for to gallop hot,
Then ftopt him quick,that he new breath might take:
Then on his creft,my flattring palme would flide,
The more to cheere,his hot couragious pride.
G 2
At


Dolarnys Primerofe.
At Tilt and Tourney, then did I learne to ride,
With clattring fhockes, to breake a ſturdy launce,
After the combate, then with portly pride,
My foaming courfer, would himſelfe aduance:
Whofe fumptuous cariage,did ſo much excell,
That in each Tourney, I did beare the bell.
For fo I manag'd,that couragious beaſt,
That he would vault,leape,coruet, plunge,and prance,
With ftartling furie,fold his doubled creft,
With loftie capers,ftowpe,ſtop,and lightly daunce:
With fierie rage,ftrike,ftare,and trample proudly,
Beating the ſtones,ftamping and neighing loudly.
Each ten dayes once, Olympus feaft we held,
Meeting in tilt, with compleat armour bright,
So that I knew,right well my ſpeare to weld,
And how t'incounter, with the hardieft Knight:
And ſometime hit, with counterbuffe ſo ſound,
That he lay weltring on the fullen ground.
Whilft the ſpectators, voices high did laud mee,
With hou'ring hattes,and lowd tumultuous cries,
The trumpet thrill, did feeme for to applaud mee,
Pearfing the higheſt Zenith of the skies,
Where might be heard,vnpartiall voyces fay,
Young Iulius wonne,the honour of the day.
Then was I brought, to liue in ftately Court,
Whereas I fed, of daintieft painted lookes,
For gallant dames,there dayly did reſort,
To haue their faces,read in fteed of bookes,
And foone I learned, with an am'rous tongue,
To read the lines, that were their bookes among.
Fortun


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Fortune did fo,aduance my blooming dayes,
That in the court, I gain'd a courtly place,
And happy he,that moſt my name could raiſe,
I fate fo high, in great Vefpafians grace:
Each one vnlearned,thought their learned skill,
If not imploy'd,my fantaſie to fill.
Agricola,was bruted through the land,
No tongue did moue,but ſpake of Iulius name,
Each Martialiſt,that did controule a band,
Mutely admir'd,to heare of Iulius fame:
For fweet difcourfe,reuels,and chiualrie,
Who was renow'nd? Agricola euen I.
Walkt I in Court,there Lamprils eyes
defcried mee,
If in the towne,the Cittizens would know mee,
If mountaines bare mee, fhepheard fwaines efpied mee,
In countrie townes,each vnto each would ſhow mee:
And all would bend,with curtefies to mee,
Whilſt I to them, would giue like curtelie.
What ſhould I ſay? but that I ſhould not ſay?
All honour ſtill,in Court attended on mee,
I ftill in great,Vefpafians bofome lay,
So gratioufly,did fortune fmile vpon mee:
And as I grew,each day to riper yeeres,
Each day renowne,did place me with great peeres.
But then Bellona, with her hot alarm's,
Did fummon mee,vnto the dint of warre,
Where I with troupes,of worthy men at armes,
Refuſe no toile,to meete that bloudie iarre:
Although great Neptunes,boyling empire lay,
Betweene our land,and that rich golden bay.
G 3
But


Dolarnys Primerofe.
But ftraight we rigg'd,our huge fea rending ſhips,
Whofe fpreading failes, with gentle Eurus aide,
In Thetis fields,through glaffie billows flips,
No croffe of Fortune,once our Nauie ftaide:
Vntill wee came,at that gold-ſhining towne,
That was the fpring,of Iulius renowne.
Where vnawares, we thruſt with ſpeed to land,
And orderly,our valiant forces placed,
With fquadrons faire,vpon that forreine ſtrand,
With glittʼring armour,all the plaines defaced:
But then our foes,like champions ftoute and bold,
Came with their power,for to defend their hold.
With hot Brauado's,and vndaunted ſpirits,
They marcht along, from out their Cittie gates,
Ambitious all,aduancement fought by merits,
Committing life,and land,to froward fates:
Nor wee,nor they,no parle feem'd to craue,
Combat,and battaile,each one defir'd to haue.
For raging furie, brooketh no delay,
Armie beards armie,in the bloody field,
Their trampling Gennets,fierie breathings neigh,
Their launces brauely,their ſtrong courfers wield:
Enfignes difplai'd, lowd drums and trumpets found,
Whofe threatning terror,from the clowds rebound.
Now warlike Mars, fome of thy valour ſend mee,
Tip my weake tongue, with gads of tempered ſteele,
Or thou braue Pallas,fome of thy power lend me,
That I may feeme,to make the hearers feele:
What buffets,blowes,lim-parting-ftroakes and fcars,
Are by fterne champions,giuen in thy bloudy iars.
My


Dolarnys Primerofe.
My tongue's too feeble,to decipher out,
The raging furie,acted in martiall traines,
Yet will I fhew, the proweffe of this route,
Which thus incounter'd,on the Southerne plaines:
The valiant horſemen,firſt with ſwift cariers,
In fundrie ſplinters, fhiuerd their piercing ſpeares.
Then to their Carbins, then vnto handy blowes,
Then violent ſhot,like to the Oceans rage,
With pell-mell-fhocks,out off each armie goes,
Each man to win,his courage did ingage:
And ſtormes of Bullets,like to winters haile,
Out off each fquadron,did their foes affaile.
Then armours clatter'd,fwords gaue blow for blow,
A hand,a hand,a foote,a foote did craue,
Life,life defir'd, bloud vpon bloud did flow,
Each Curtleax dig'd, himfelfe a goarie graue:
There did Bellona, like a lion teare,
Rough irefull gallants,on her toffing ſpeare.
The radiant skie,was darkned with the ſmoake,
That iffued from,the pattering Muſket ſhot,
Which flumbring fume,our fouldiers feem'd to choake,
The day and battaile, were fo moultring hot:
The thundring Canons,plaied on either ſide,
Whofe dreadfull furie,legions did diuide.
And as the waues,driuen with outragious ſtormes,
Beateth the rampiers of vnmoouing rockes,
So did our Captaines, labour with hot alarmes,
Them to repulfe, with fhiu'ring launces fhockes:
Here lies fome dead,there other freſhly bleeds,
Trampling vpon them, with vnruly ſteeds.
Abound


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
Abounding terror,tumbled in the feeld,
Death ſtood apaled,at his owne invention,
Enuie bedect,her felfe in Rigors fheeld,
Ruine and Horror,reuel'd with Diffention:
Raging Reuenge,fported in fanguin blood,
The rauin'd earth,ore-cloyed belching ſtood.
Harfh-dying tunes, fighing and greeuous groan's,
Wide gaping wounds, forced lamenting cries,
Heart-goaring ftabs, burſting of leggs and boanes,
Life guſhing teares,forced from bloody eyes:
Men kill'd, vnkill'd,as dreadfull warre defired,
Liuing and dying, while Parcas breath retired.
Yet was the battayle,in a ballance found,
Till I vndaunted,cheer'd each feeble wing,
Which doone our valiant,forces gather'd ground,
Then courage followe,all the feeld did ring:
Then did our foes,feare,faynt,and flattly flie,
Whilft wee as victors,victorie did cry.
Then did our foldiers,try ple valour take,
The ſmall caliuers,then did diſcharge apace,
The pykes and halberts, liuing lims did ſhake,
With feares purfute,the targueters did chace:
The horſe-men fwiftly,did their launces bend,
The cannons fwiftly, did their bullets fend.
Then in our plumes, Fortune did feeme to play,
For that our foes,lay weltring in their blood,
Yeelding to vs,the honor of the daie,
The faire greene feeld,all fanguined ouer ſtood:
Here lie ftout champions, pearft with deadly launces,
There laye braue Captains, leading fatall daunces.
Here


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Here fell a body,there tumbles off a head,
Here laye one maym'd,there laye one flaine out-right,
Here laye a fouldier, groueling fcarfly dead,
There laye a leader, here laye a warlike knight:
There a coronel,here a Gallant ſlayne,
Thus were they ſcatter'd,ore the purple plaine.
And thus at length, we forc'd them to retire,
Cloſing themfelues, within their Cittie walls,
Which wee inuiorn'd round with ſword and fire,
Pelting their frontiers, with hot poud❜red balles:
Whence wee might heare,clamorous fhrikes & cries,
Nipped with waylings,in the troubled ſkies.
Then wee began, their towring walles to ſcale,
Taking the time,by his rough hairie top,
While fickle Fortune,flylie brew'd their bale,
That we the flowre,of their delight might crop:
Short tale to make,valour and high renowne,
Our conqu❜ring powres, plac'd in that warlike towne.
Whence many fled,to faue their wretched liues,
Many did humbly,kneele to kiffe our feete,
Virgins,and maides,infants and trembling wiues,
With proftrate teares,did all our forces greete:
Where I proclaimed,with a trompet meeke,
That all ſhould liue,that then their liues did feeke.
Who much did mufe,to ſee ſo milde a fo,
Thinking themselues,conquered not at all,
Their fad applaufes,gaue vs leaue to knowe,
The ioye they tooke,in that their riſing fall:
And where before, w'had onely woon the towne,
Then of their hearts, we feem'd to weare the crowne.
H
For
"


Dolarnys Primerofe.
For they did bring, almoſt with free confent,
Their wealthy ftore, into our hands to giue,
Their gold,and Jewels,then they did prefent,
Their loffe of goods,they feemed not to grieue:
For why? they knew,that we to them before,
Had giu'n a lemme, worth all the wide worlds ſtore.
Two dayes we ſtai'd,within that Citty faire,
Triumphing ftill,in victorie and gaine,
With pretious ſtones,and pearles beyond compare,
We did inrich, our warlike troupes and traine:
Our dauncing ſhips,doubled their ſwelling prides,
Such wealthy fraught,ftuffed their bended fides.
Whoſe luftie moulds, we rig'd and trim'd anew,
With maſts of filuer,then they did adorne them,
The old attire,ambitiouſly they threw,
Amidft the flouds,as they had neuer worne them;
Our yards were all, of Iu'ry, white as milke,
Our tacklings fram'd,of pureft twiſted ſilke,
Our maine-failes all,of glaffie Sattin faire,
Our top-failes were,moft fumptuous to behold,
Our fpred-top gallants,trembling in the ayre,
Were framed all,of glittring cloth of gold:
Our dallying enfignes, wauʼring in the skie,
Were all imboft, with rich imbrodery.
While that our ſhips, thus in the port were trimming,
I cal'd our troupes, into their Senate hall,
Whereas I made, no droffe nor pure ſkimming,
But with content, I did content them all:
None parted with,a diſcontented heart,
For why I gaue,each man his full defert.
All


Dolarnys Primerofe.
•
All which compleat,a pleaſant gale of winde,
Did gentlie whiſper,ore our Nauies Poope,
As though t' had knowne,w'had finifht vp our minde,
So fweet a breath,made our top gallant ftoope:
Which caufed vs,leaſt that the winde ſhould fail's,
Our Anchors weigh,and hoiſt our filken failes.
Then of the towne,our laſt farewell we tooke,
With thundring noiſe,that ſeem'd t'affright the ayre,
Whilft Ladies from,the ſhoares on vs did looke,
With wo-fwolne eyes,that we had left them there:
They ſhooke their hands,and fhed teares for our fake,
In hope for them,our fhips we would turne back.
Their fighes they fent,ouer the billowes rough,
Brought to our fhips, with Zephyrus gentle hiffes,
And when they faw,we knew it well inough,
With balmie breath,they blew to vs their kiffes:
Their gloues they tooke,and in the water fling them,
Hoping the tide,vnto our ſhips would bring them.
But Eolus which,our friend did ſtill remaine,
Hafted our fhips, from off that forreine coaſt,
Fearing leaſt that, we ſhould turne backe againe,
And fo our paines, were altogether loft:
For why? he knew, their Syren-tempting-fongs,
Might well pretend,vnto our further wrongs.
Wherefore no leaue,he gaue vs to diſpenſe,
But liuely gales,he whifled in our ſhrowdes,
So that he foone,conuei'd our Nauie thence,
Rowling amidft,the all vntamed flouds:
And by the power,of his great fwaying hand,
W❜are driuen from ken,of that delightfull land.
H 2
Then


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Then were we toff'd,in Neptunes tenniſf-court,
Whereas the waues,did rackets feeme to take,
To beate and bandy,was their onely ſport,
Vntill a fet game,they agreed to make:
Yet like young boyes,they did dallying play,
Which toffe new bales,for that they are fo gaye,
For our faire fhips,fwelled the feaes with pride,
When they began,to daunce in Tethis lap,
But hauing reynes, within her verge to ride,
The furges feem'd, their boyftrous hands to clap:
Triton did found, in moſt harmonious wife,
Whileft Neptune gazed,on our welthy prife.
Who feem'd to call, Apollo from his chaire,
Nephew (faith he)knowe you this portly fleete,
Which feemes to come,from out the Phrigian aire,
Where wee with ſtore, and treaſure once did meete,
The firme foundation,of faire Troye to laye:
The which had florifht,till this preſent day,
Had thefe Grecians, which as I ſuppoſe,
Falfly betray'd,that vnremouing towne,
Since which time they,themfelues right wel might loſe,
In watry deferts,vnder my fpatious crowne:
But if I knew,that theſe were furely they,
I would ore-whelme them,in the briniſh ſea,
At whoſe ſterne words, Apollo feem'd to ſpeake:
No gentle Nephew,mittigate your ire,
Theſe are our friends, the which no peace will breake,
Theſe men haue beene,to fetch Promethean fire:
Theſe men are they, that trauells for our good,
Who are defcended, from the Troian blood.
Then


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Then vſe them gently,as our chiefeft friends,
And through your kingdomes fafetie them conduct,
See all the gulfes, that you to them doo cleanſe,
So that their fleete, to Scilla be not fuckt:
For if their land,they fafely doo attaine,
They ſhall haue fame,but we ſhall haue the gaine.
Then Neptune feem'd,to calme his rugged brow,
Commanding Triton,all his pow'rs to call,
(While that our Theams, the frothie brine did plow)
He held a parle,in his fpatious hall;
All ſtormie windes, he chaft from out his land,
Onely faire Zephyr,at his beck did ſtand.
Who fent freſh gales,as we on billowes faild,
Neptune himſelfe,did waite vpon our fleete,
And when the wind,feared diſpleaſure quaild,
Then would he helpe vs,with a tide moſt ſweet:
And when proud Zephyr,roughly feem'd to blow,
He would command him,he fhould be more flow,
Thus did the great,commander of the Sea,
Conduct our Nauie,through his empire wide,
Vntill at length,vpon a calmie day,
Our natiue land,we ioyfully efpide:
Whofe louely bankes, feemed with fuger'd charmes,
To call our fleete,into her folding armes.
Then did wee haften,to thoſe happie fhores,
Mounted vpon,the wings of fwift defire,
Our failes did ferue,for labouring armes and oares,
To gaine the port,to which we did aſpire:
And Eolus,no breath did vs denie,
But cauf'd our fhips,like Pegafus to flie.
H 3
Vntill


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Vntill we came,neare to the long wifht ſtrand,
On whofe faire bankes, a thouſand did atend,
To welcom vs, vnto that happy Land,
For of their ioyes,there feem'd to be no end:
With mufick loude, with drums & trompets found,
They drewe our ſhippes,vnto that pleaſant ground.
Each fouldier weake, the which the waues did check,
And halfe dead fill'd, the body of each ſhip,
Did then reuiue,and walke vpon their decke.
Clapping their hands, and feem'd for joy to ſkip:
In that great Neptune,lead vs all that while,
And fet vs fafe,vpon our natiue Ile.
Who then did feeme,with all his frothie traine,
On Dolphins backes,to mount their watry lims,
And fmyling Thetis,left vs on the plaine,
And with that Monarch, thence togither fwims:
Commanding Triton,for to found a call,
To hold a counfell, in Charibdies hall.
While we did leaue,our huge fea-cutting fleete,
Landing our troupes, Olimpikly on ſhoare,
Whereas whole legions, kindely did vs meete,
Wee being arm'd, with gold and filuer ftore:
For ioye whereof,the hilles and dales did found,
The rockes and riuers,did with noyſe rebound.
Our well fraught nauie,then began to fet,
Their thundring mufick,to report their treaſure,
And with high ftraines,their inftruments to fet,
With harts delight, whilft we did daunce with pleaſure:
Which roaring confort, fuch recording plies,
That their thick breath, dimmed the criſtall ſkies.
There


Dolarnys Primerofe.
There were we brought,to that ſea-beaten towne,
Inuiorned, with warlike harmony,
And all their voyces,feem'd at once to crowne,
Agricola, with fame and chiualrie:
The rattling muſick,quauerd amids the throng,
Th'hot caliuers, warbled the vnderſong.
Whil'ft I in fted, of pattring bullets threwe,
Siluer and gold,to pearce my country men,
To which hot ſkyrmiſh,there fo many drewe,
That I would pawfe,and then begin agen:
Till night drewe on, thus did I guild their ſtreets,
With gaine of warre,filuer and forrein fweets.
But Phlegon, Pyrous,Æous and Ethon proud,
Amids the ayre,haftned with fiery wings,
To beare Apollo, toward the Ocean floud,
And as a prefent,him to Iber brings:
Where he with banquets,reuell'd out the night,
Vntill Aurora, brought the morning light.
When night was come,wee tooke our quiet reft,
Sleeping fecure, voyd of fufpect or wrong,
Such harmeleffe thoughts,harbored in each breft,
That wee were faſt,vntill the Leuerucke fong:
Who in the aire, with chirpings feem'd to ſay,
Awake,behold,fee the delightfome day.
For Menmons mother, then to world had brought,
So faire a fhewe,of crimſon fpeckled light,
All ſpangled ore,as if with Rubies wrought,
The which did baniſh,black Cimmerian night:
And glittring Phebus,then began to riſe,
Gracing the earth,from out the azure ſkies.
Thus


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Thus hauing fafely,taken ſweet repoſe,
And that Apollo,to the lifts was come,
From out our ſheets,with ſpeed wee then aroſe,
Leauing the port, with found of trumpe and drumme:
And then we tooke, our iourney toward the court,
Whereas our wel-come, was in princely fort.
For all the peers flocking about mee came,
With feeming gladnes of my fafe returne,
Applauding ftill,my then too happy name,
As though with Ioy, their inward hearts did burne:
Then great Vefpatiun, to accompt did call mee,
To know what chance,in Mars fchole did befall mee.
Where I difcourft,how I had ſpent my time,
How I tooke ſhip,and how I paft the flouds,
How I did land,vnder that forreine clyme,
And how with force,our enemies withſtood's:
How with great paine, their troupes wee did beate
And how at length, wee woon that mayden towne.
How many fled, to faue their loathed liues,
How many at,our weapons points did fall,
How I did pittie,infants,maydes and wiues,
And how I gaue,mercy vnto them all:
(downe
How they themfelues, their iewells to vs brought,
And how with ſtore, our luftie ſhippes wee fraught.
Short tale to make,I nothing did delay,
But told him all,how that we went and came,
Euen from the firft, vntill that prefent day,
Till he himselfe, did giue me triple fame:
And honors high,vpon my head he fet,
But fome repin'd,at thoſe my titles great.
But


Dolarnys Primerofe.
But then he tooke,mee by this iron hand,
Iulius(quoth he)mount,mount in wars defire,
For now Ile fend,thee with a puiſſant band,
Where like a prince, thou fhalt by fame aſpire:
To be inrold, within a warlike ftorie,
With trophes of, eternal prayfe and glorie.
I'le make thee, Gen'ral of as great a traine,
As ere was copt,vnder the boundleſſe ſkie,
Who as they march, fhal hide each hill and playne,
And drinke at once,the foaming Ocean drye:
No ſhipps fhall neede,to waft them ore the fea,
For they fhal land it, in one fommers daye.
Not Xerxes armie, fhal with them compare,
So many legions,vnder thee fhall go,
The fight whereof,ſhall make thy aduerfe feare,
When thou doft come, t'encounter with thy fo:
Ile raine downe gold,ftill for thy fouldiers pay,
Then gentle Iulius,ftay not, haft away.
This promiſe vrg'd mee,once againe to go,
To trie my fortune, in Bellonaes fchoole,
Soone was prepar'd,a gallant glittring ſhow,
Whereas did want,no kinde of warlike toole:
There were they plac'd,each man in his degree,
And I proclaim'd,their Generall to be.
Then trumpets fhrill, founded aloud for ioye,
And thundring drums, filled the aire with noyſe,
The foldiars all,each man and ſturdy boye,
Houer'd their hearts, with an applawfing voyce:
Taking our leaue,then did we march along,
Arriuing fafe,in (great) Brittanie ſtrong.
I
In


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
In which faire foile,the Brittains bold did rainę,
Th'vndaunted Scotſh men,and the Scithians wild,
The Corniſh crew,and Calidonian traine,
The naked Silures,and the Pictians vilde:
Who all at once,prouided fkil-leffe powers,
To driue our forces, from their mean built towers.
For men like Satir's,clad in ruſtike tire,
Halfe weapon-leffe,with braying cries and cals,
To meet our daring,army did afpire,
Praying vpon vs,like fierce Cannibals:
There might be heard,the hideous lumbring ſwaſher,
Vnequally, conforting with the claſher.
There might be heard, the hollowe wind bag'd droan's,
With direfull roaring:and the puffing piper,
There might be heard, harſh tunes with clattring bones,
The loud fhrill drummer,and the iarring fifer
Which muficks difcord,feem'd a confort right,
To courage vp,our foes vnmanag'd might.
Whofe habits mean, did harbor haulty hardneffe, (leffe
Their ftomacks ftout,though ſkil-leffe made them feare-
Their proweffe doubtleffe,bred their own vntow'rdneſſe
Their defperat vetur's,fhew'd their hearts were peerleſſe:
Their valors fwordleffe,made them ftill regardleſſe,
Their blows were harmleſſe,& their bodies wardleſſe.
Their weapons were of,I beame,witch,and thorne,
Some had a ſkeane,and fome a dart and durke,
Some fewe had bows,and arows pil'd with horne,
And priuie poynards,in fome fleues did lurke:
Some hadle targes, fome pikes with points new burned,
Some ftil threwe ftones,& fome poore chariots turned.
Some


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Some weelded fpears, and fheelds of Elme full tough,
Some hare brayn'd royfters rid on gariſh ſteeds,
Some two hand fwords,did vfe of iron rough,
Whofe aukward powers,acted moft worthie deeds:
For why they thought,a man was neuer dead.
Till by fome meanes,they had cut off his head.
Yet day by day,on bogges and brays wee met,
One while they vs,then ſtraight wee them would chaſe,
They vpon vs,we vpon them would ſet,
Such was the reſt, wee tooke within that place:
Thus did we feed, vpon the bread of warre,
Painting our lines, with many bloudy ſkar.
Full thriſe three years,in Brittain I remayned,
From whence my fame,to ſtately Roome did flie,
But then Vefpafian, was by death detained,
And mightie Titus,in that time did die:
Then grew my woes,then did my forows fpring,
Then,then did bloome,my fatall ruining.
For then Domitian,tirant-like did ſwaie,
The royall mace, and diadem of Rome,
Who vndefcried,plottes did flily lay,
To bring poore Iulius,to his finall doome:
And wreft my life, from mee by fowle deceipt,
For that my name,did dayly growe ſo great.
All meanes he fought,t'augment my worth and fame,
When rufty enuie,gnaw'd his cankered heart,
His cunning lipps,did feeme to rayſe my name,
But ftill he fought,my death with flight and art:
Euen fo Vlifles,flattered in the court,
While luckleffe Aiax, toyld with warlike port.
I 2
Yet
1
1


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Yet I was worſe,then Telamons poore fonne,
For hee was prefent, with his wily fo,
He knewe his flights, long ere the ſpight was doone,
But Iulius I,did neither fee nor knowe:
His caufeleffe enuy,I did neuer taſte,
How he chac'd mee,as I the Brittains chac'd.
He mee purfu'd, and I my foraine foes,
His ftroakes were flight,but I rough payement gaue,
He fought with wiles, I fought with rugged blowes,
He fought my wracke, I fought his life to faue:
He wrought my bane,I wrought, to raiſe his fame,
He woon the prife,I loft the fet and
game.
But all fo fitted,to my feeming good,
That no miſdeeming,in my heart did reſt,
Although he dayly,thirfted for my bloud,
No fuch opinion,lodged in my breaft:
For then from Brittain,he did fend for mee,
And I of Syria,fhould Lieutenant be.
His iugling letters, had fuch lofty ftraines,
That I was all,inchanted with his charmes,
I muſt to Rome,and leaue my wonted traines,
To cope with greater, dignities at armes:
Wherefore I tooke, my leaue and laſt adiew,
Of all my troopes,great Syria to viewe.
But when I came,vnto the Roman Court,
Whofe glorious name, did ring throughout the world,
Wonder did feeme,about me to refort,
For black inditements,on my head were hurld:
And I,poore I,as many tongues could tell,
Ere long was fent, vnto the cittadell.
And


Dolarnys Primeroſe.
And thriſe accurft,by deſtiny and fate,
Was then proclaym'd,a traytor for to be,
Againſt the Prince,the Counfell and the ſtate,
The which did not, with
my deferts
deferts agree:
Yet did Vliffes, Palamede fo hate,
That with Imooth words,he did cut off his pate.
Alas,alas,the time doth ſwiftly runne,
For nowe I heare,nights trumpeters ſhrill noyfes,
Who haſtens mee,my ſtory to haue done,
Oſtay a while,and Ile obey your voyces:
For being clof'd, within that towring wall,
I heard no talke, but of my death and fall.
And on a day, before Aurora ſprong,
To tell the world, that Phebus faire was comming,
I was inuited, with a mourning tongue,
Vnto a feaſt, prouided with great cunning:
Where I fhould feed,on fuch delicious cates,
As was prepar'd,for me and fuch like ſtates.
I could not chooſe,but needes I muſt conſent,
Togo and fee, that ſweete and dainty fare,
Although I knewe,that feaſt with full intent,
Was foordayn'd,to end my worldly care:
Yet I as willing,as their hearts could wifh,
Did viewe,and that,is banquets chiefeſt diſh.
And when I came, vnto that fpatious hall,
There did I fee,my diet and my cheare,
My Caruer then, vnto mee I did call,
Saying theſe words,carue,friend,and do not feare:
Then did he cut,and I did eate ſuch ſtore,
That after then, I neuer did eate more.
I 3
Then


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Then this memoriall,of my endleſſe foule,
Which had beene lockt, within my body long,
Was regiftred,in a celeftiall rowle,
And plac'd in ioye, whilft Angels fweetly fung:
Where troupes diuine,eternally fhall raigne,
Keeping their Court, vpon Elizian plaine.
But worldling know, to thee I doo not come,
To tell thee how, I liued in my life,
Nor for to tell,this ſtory all and fome,
Which was my end,my death,and fatall ftrife:
A thouſand heads,more of my ftate hath knowne,
Then in this ftorie, I to thee haue ſhowne.
It were a pride,for me to tell thee this,
Or tell thee how,I dwell in Paradiſe,
No,no,I come,to lead thee vnto bliffe,
Then heare my words,note them,and be precife:
Firſt honour God,then with a louing heart,
Honour thy Prince,for fo it is thy part.
Defraude no man,hurt not the innocent,
Hate pride,liue chafte,back-bite not with thy tongue,
Sweare not in vaine,to vengeance be not bent,
Murther no man,nor doo no poore man wrong:
Beare no falſe witneffe,hoord no gold in ftore,
While Orphanes weake,ftarue at thy curfed dore.
The Saboth keepe,honour thy parents deare,
Steale no mans wealth,thy enemies forgiue,
Shunne floth as finne,and drunkenneffe forbeare,
Glutte no thy felfe,ftill pouertie releeue:
Fauour thy friend,loue thy true feruant well,
This done,thy fame, for euer fhall excell.
And


Dolarnys Primerofe.
And if that long,thou doft defire to liue,
Beware of fuch,as brought mee to my end,
For they are men,that cunning words will giue,
Although thy fo,they will profeffe thy friends:
And will not let,to fweare,and forfweare too,
Thy welth to gaine,though it doth thee vndoo.
But ſtay: mee thinkes I fee the Eurian lights,
Budding like Rofes,in the mornings browes,
The drowfie vapours,takes their fable flyghts,
And bright Aurora,doth her felfe vnhouſe:
The glow-worme dimfeares the'approaching fun,
Wherefore farewell, for I to ſpeake haue done.
Thus did he leaue,and thus the Hermit left,
with tears diftilling,and with fighs abounding,
His filent muteneffe,fhew'd his Ioyes bereft,
Yetnight did force me,leaue him plaints reſounding:
And thus I reft,his ſtory to defcrye,
For that black night,hath now inclof'd the ſkie.
Yet when Apollo,ſhall rechaſe againe,
The Vefper vailes, the earth hath clouded ouer,
If that your ſteps,doo guide you to this plaine,
The accident,to you I will diſcouer:
Vntill which time, your felfe I do commend,
To be preferu❜d,by Alls all guiding friend.
The radiant torch,long fince had burning left,
And Cinthia pale, keeping a wanton vaine,
Trimmed her felfe,like to a louer defte,
Cafting her glimpſes, towar'd faire Latmos plaine:
Which louely obiect,cauf'd her dazling eyes,
With triple brightneffe,to inrich the ſkies.
Wherefore


Dolarnys Primerofe.
Wherefore I left, the louely aged man,
Taking my leaue,my bed I made my bliffe,
But in the morne, I did returne againe,
Whereas I heard,the Hermits life and his,
Which now my pen,growne dull denies t'indite,
Taking fresh breath,in freſher lines to write.
FINIS.


LONDON:
FROM THE Shakspeare Press, BY
WILLIAM BULMER AND CO. CLEVELAND-ROW,
ST. JAMES'S.
1816.














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