The huntsman's self is blinde, the hound

At losse doth ouer-giue.

"But list, alas! Loue's beagles be

Vncoupeld, Beautie praites

And driues my heart from out the thicks,

And at receit awaites "Vaine hope, and either now falls in, And now my heart must dye, Now haue they him at bay, and now In vayne he fights to flye.

666

Auannt, Desire! ha, curre, auaunt!
The bore so rase thy hyde.
Vnto the fall of my poore heart

See, see how Loue doth ryde.

"Hearke, how he blowes his death: ah see, He now the say doth take

Of my poore heart, that neuer more
For Loue shall pastime make.'
"Thus liu'd he till he left his life,

And for the ruth of this

I vow'd, that who sa once were mine
I would be only his."

"Yeat," (sayd her sutor) "he, not she,
Was punisht, as may seeme.'

"Yes yes," quoth she, "a conscience prickt Is deeply plagu'd I deeme.

"Then Scotland warr'd on England, and

In that same warre did end
The knight that had coryued: so
The ladie lost each frend.

"Oft saw I her in teares, and oft
I heard her to complayne

For faith erst lost, for losse now found,
Deuiding sighs in twayne.

"There be that say (if truely sayd)
Vnbodied soules haue walkt,
And of the ghosts of these two knights
The like abroad was talkt:

Her eares had this and shee the heart
That dared not her eyes,
For thether whence the brute did grow
She (feareless faultie) hies:

"Her followers stood aloofe when she,
Alone approching, sayd,

Beloued both, what means this fight?
(They seem'd as if they frayd)
"Ah, pardon me, sweet first-belou'd,
My guile I graunt was great,
So is my griefe: my latter loue
Refraine, let me intreate.'

"But whilst she spoke of deadly wounds
They both did seeme to fall,
And after vanisht, leauing her
Perplext in feare not small:

"Who thenceforth fared as the knight
That did for her distraught,

Stil haunted of the ghosts, and haunts
The place where they had faught:
Vntill of her despayring life

Her selfe the period wraught.
"Thus liu'd she till she left her life,
And for the ruth of this

I vow'd, that who so once were mine
I would be onely his."

"Tush, this was but a phantasie," Quoth he, "of subtill feends,' Deluding her simplicitie

In figure of her frends:

"I heare not that they said or did Aught taching her vntruth, But foolish was her feare, the like I censure of your ruth." "And shall I tell what they did tell, And say what they did doe?

I will, for so, perhaps, you will Surcease," (quoth she) "to wowe.

"The ghost resembling him to whom She had disloyall bin

Sayd: I, and this, and thou, be thus
And shalbe doom'd for sin :

"For dotage in my loue, for his
Deceitfull lust, we twaine
Of freesh-sore wounds do hourely faint,
Hurt, heale, heale, hurt againe
"Nor can I vtter halfe we see,

And feare, and suffer still
Of endles torments: onely thou
Art auctressé of such ill.
"Who loue belou'd beleeue no life
But wheare their loue doth liue,
To fault is then their murdrous fact
That first defect doth giue.
"He had not faulted or I falne
Hadst thou hild faith to mee:
Ah, little feele we in regard

Of plagues prepar'd for thee.'
"Thus sayd he, and for thus he sayd
I for the ruth of this

Did vow, that who so once were mine
I would be onely his."

"Well, madame," quoth the gentleman, "Be this so, or a shift,

I see to frustrate my demaund
Is honestly your drift:

"Then so, or not so, or what so
You shall inferre of this

It matters not, Perkin is yours
And be you onely his.

"For, sooth to say, weare all saidè false, It were indeed a Hell

To have a loues coryuall, and

As none could brooke it well,

"So none should aske, and none should yeeld To alter love begun,

Therefore, sweet ladie, I conclude

Such il is well vndun :

"Mine amorous sute hath here an end:

And would you might preuaile

With Perkin too, that proudly striues

To beare too high a sayle:

So may you, if perhaps you haue

For him so apt a tayle

"As this you tould to me for mee,
Although more hardly trew

As this which I shall tell, that doth
Include a morall view

"Of matter worth the note for him,
The rather told by you:
Then hear it for our leisure and
The order of my Q.

CHAP. XXXVII. "SUPPOSE (for so must be suppos'd) That birdes and beasts did speake: The Cuckooe sometimes lou'd the Owle, And so with her did breake. "Then flew the Owle by day, so did The Cuckooe all the yeare, So did the Swallow and the Batte: But howe it hapned heare. "The Cuckooe by the Swallow (then The Swallow was his page)

Did send the Owle a sucking Mouse,

A tydie for the age:

"The Bat (the Bat then seru'd the Owle) Preferd the bringer and

The present to her mistress' sight,

That in her tod did stand. "My maister to your owleship,' quoth The Swallow, 'sends by me This modicum, desiring you

To take the same in gree.' "The Owle, that neuer till that day Had tasted flesh of Mouse, Had quickly lopte a limbe or two, And feasteth in her house. "The Swallow with a cursee of Her then disgorged wheat:

When, talking of the daintie flesh

And elsewhat, as they eate,

"The Bat (then waiting at the boorde)

Fetcht sighes a two or three:

The Owle did aske the cause.

And doe

You aske the cause quoth she, Why thus 1 sigh when thus in sight My kindred murthred be?

"My selfe was sometimes such, and such
Am still, saue now I fly :'

With that she freshly wept: and thus
Proceeded by and by.

"A fresh,' quoth she, now comes to minde
Mine auncestors' ill hap,

Whom pride made praies to kestrels, kites,
Cats, weasels, baen, and trap:
"My grandsier (for wheare nature failes
In strength she adds in wit)
Was full of science but, insooth,
He misapplied it.

"The Weasell, prince of vermen (though
Besides a vertuous beast)

By shrewdnes of my grandsier's wit

His holes with hoords increaste,

46 6 And seem'd to conn him thankes, whom none Besides had cause to thank : For princes' fauors often make

The fauored to cranke.

"Not only mice, but lobsters, cats, And noble vermen paide

In comming Coram Nobis for

Some crime against them laide. "But, God, it is a world to see,

When purposes be sped,
How princes, hauing fatted such,
Are with their fatnes fed:

«<<The Weasel seru'd my grandsier soj

And euery vermen laught
To see himselfe in snare that had
In snares so many caught.
"Now also lige some wylie beasts,

And fatly do they feede

Mongst beasts of chace and birds of game,
With lesse than needfull heed.
"My graundsier dead, my father was
In fauour nerthelesse:

Nor did his father more than hẹ
For high promotion presse.
"And (though I say it) long time he
Deserued favors well,

For quayling foe men, and at home
Such vermen as rebell:

"And for the same the Weasell did
Him mightily preferte:

But honors made him hanghtie, and
His haughtines to erre.

"I will be plaine, he waxt too prowd,
And plotted higher drifts
Than fitted him or fadged well,

For who haue thriu'd by shifts?
"Nor will I say (because his sonne)
He wrong'd the Weasell, but
The Weasell died, and that that did
Succeede to shifts he put :

"For which his father's fortune did
Oretake him at the last:

Such fickelnesse in earthly pompe,
Which, flowing ebs as fast.

"This double warning might haue iekt Vnto my wit, but I

Did follow kinde: nay, more, I did

Importune Dis to fly,

"And he did glue me these blacke wings, Resembling him that gave them

A proper gift, and hardly got,

To shame me now I haue them.

"But know yee Dis? some Pluto him
Or Limbo's god doe call:

Or, aptlier said, in Hell of diuels
The chiefe and principall:
And somewhat now of him and how
I changed say I shall,

"I happened on a cranny, whilst
My mouse-daies lasted, which
I entring, wandred crooked nookes
And pathes as darke as pitch.
"Theare, hauing lost my selfe, I sought
The open aire in vaine,

Both wanting foode, and light, and life

Well neare, through trauel's paine.

"The Moole by chaunce did crosse my way

And (as ye know) her smell

Supplies her want of sight, and serues

Her purpose full as well:

“‹‹ I heard a tracting sownd, and, skar'd,

My haire did stand vpright,

Nor could I see, or fly, but feare
And blesse me from a spright:
"She had me, hild me, questions of
My being theare the cause,

And in meane while peruseth me
With fauorable clawes.

"I was about to pleade for life,

When she preuents me thus:
*Ha, cosen mouse, what fortune giues
This meeting heere to vs?

Feare not my sonne, (I call thee sonne,
Because I loue thee much)

Doe hold thy selfe as merry heere
As in a pantler's hutch:

What know'st not me? or see'st thou not?'
With that she leadeth me

Into an higher roome, wheate her

To be mine eame I see.

"I did my dutie, and my heart
Was lightned when mine eie
Encountered a friend, whereas
I made account to die.
"Before me sets shee viands, and
My stomacke, seru'd me well:
And, hauing fed, my grandsier's and
My father's ends I tell,
(For she enquires for them, ere 1
Acquaint her what befell.)

I

"The reuerent Moole, then sighing, said:

'Ah, let no vermine thinke

That fortune euer fauors, or
That friends will neuer shrinke:
"I did fore-smell their loftie flight.
Would cost them once a fall,
And therefore, cosen, see thou be
Forewarned therewithall.

"Heere seest thou me, (I tell thee, though

I prise not gentry now,

Thine came and of the elder house)
That long agoe did vow

"My selfe a recluse from the world,
And, celled ynder ground,

Least that the gould, the precious stones,
And pleasures, here be found,
"Might happen to corrupt my minde,
For blindnes did I pray,
And so contemplatiuely heere

I with contentment stay.
"Admitte the Weasell graceth thee,
The more he doth, the more
The other vermen will maligne
And enuy thee therefore:
"Himselfe, perhaps, will listen to
Thy ruine for thy store:

and

Or thou thy selfe, to mount thy selfe,
Maiest runne thy selfe a shore.
"That vermen that hath reason,
His owne defects espies,
Doth seeme to haue a soule, at least
Doth thriue by such surmies,
"For what is it but reason that
Humaine from brutish tries?

But man, or beast, neither hath troth
That this for true denies,

"He hath enough that hath wherewith
Pure nature to suffies:"
In ouerplus an overcharge

For soule and body lies,

"For souldiors, lawyers, carrions, theeter, Or casualties, a prize,

His comber-minde that liues with it,
And leaues it when he dies,

VOL IV.

"From whome to catch it scarce his heire

Staies closing of his eyes:

O wretched wealth, which whoso wants
No fortune him enuies.

""Here maiest thou feast thee with a mad:
And here no pickethanke pries
Into thy life, nor words well spoke
To ill vnmeant applies:
"No flatterer to vadermind:

No tongue, no eare, for fies:
No gleaning from the orphant: no
Oppressed widowe's cries:

No bribes to giue, no hands to take:
No quarrelling for flies!

No wronges to right: no lawes to breake,
Because no law
aw that ties,

"But what wee lust we doe, nor doe
Nor lust badd enterprize:

And finde lesse want in nature, than
Wits-want in arts disguize.

Nor any heere in force, in friends, Fraud, wealth, or wit affies:

O doe thou not so rich, so safe,

And just a life despies:

"Theare lacketh not of noble births

To star the courtly ski

Theare be enowe politians, thou

Maiest for thy soule be wise!
"Then leaue thou matters of estate
To states, I thee aduise:

And rather sit thou safely still,
Than for a fall to rise."

"Not for shee was my elder, or

Mine eame, but for the place,

I hild my peace, that would haue sayd
Her moolship's minde was bace.
"But she perceiues me to dissent,
And saieth, Cosen Mouse,

Doe as you like, you shall not finde

A prison of my house:

"Stay while you will, goe when you will,

Come and returne at pleasure, *^`

And euer welcome: virtue is

An vncompelled treasure.'

7

"This past, and hence passe we through deepe
Darke waies, saue here and thearer?
The vaines of gould and pretious stones
Made light in darke appeare:

"Vaste vaults as large as iles we passe,
Great riuers theare did flow,
Huge wormes and monsters there I saw,
Which none on Earth do know. ver
"On goe we, till I saw a glimps

And she heard noise of flame,

Then said shee praiers, bidding me
To blesse me from the same."**
"I, musing, frain'd her meaning: she
Her meaning thus did tell.
"That flaming region, euer such,'
(Quoth she)' is Pluto's Hell:

«All gould, all mettals, wealth, and pompe, That nourish mortals' pride,

Are hence and his, and hether they

Doe theare mis-guiders gide:

"He them inchaunteth, and the same

Inchaunt the folke on Earth,

૨૧.

Vntilf their dying dotage theare
Finds beere a liuing death.'
"Still nertheles I wisht to see
The hellish monarch Dis,
When he (more ready to be found
Then for our profite is)

,

"Vpon it, nor within it, not Sufficing to my pride,

I asked vinges, scarce asked, when

They grew on either side.

"Short leque I tooke, and mounting left

The Hell-god and the Moole, And soared to the open aire, Through many a sory hoole. "It was at twilight, and the birds Were gone to roust, but I (Inchaunted with the noueltie Of flight) vnweared flye,

"And had the Sunne been vp, I ween (Such pride bewitcht my wit To eagle fie my selfe) I had Assayd to soare to it:

"Not seeing that my limber wings

Were leather-like vnplum'de, But at the dawning also I

Of wing-worke still presum'de.
"The swallow (and I weene it was
This swallow's father) he

Was earliest vp, with him I met,
And he admired me.

"I hild him wing, and whistly he
Suruaies me round about,
And lastly, knowing who I was,
Did giue me many a flout,
"And fled to tell the other birds,

What vncouth fowle was bred,
Who flockt to see me, till with gibes
And girds I wisht mee ded.

"Then, shifting out of sight, I hung Till twilight in a hoole,

Transformde, derided, hunger-spent,
And (minding still the Moole)
"In vaine I wisht reducement of
My shape, and (which was worste)
My hap was harder than to owne
In that distresse a crust.

"Then fled I to my wonted holes.
Of hoorded food to get,

Too narrow by mine added wings
That did mine entry let.

""Now Mise fled me, not to the Moole
I would retume for shame,

To Dis I durst not, mongst the birds
I was a laughing game.

"Then curst I mine aspiring minde,
Then knew I Dis a diuel!,

The diuefl the prince of pride, and pride
The rooté of euery euill.

"Hell, Earth, aire, Heauen, and what not? thea
Conspiring mine vnrest,

What might remaine but death for me
That lived so vnblest?

"But as I, fainting, flew that night
Your ladiship, dame Owle,

Did call me to your todd, and glad
To see a new night fowle,

"Did take me to your service, thence
Your chamberlaine to be:

Ha, Iupiter reward it you,

That so releeued mee.

"It is a sweete continuall feast
To liue content I see:

No daunger but in high estate,
None enuy meane degree.'

"Then all this processe' (quoth the Owle)
'Doth tend, belike, to this,

That I should eate nõ mouse-flesh: nay,
Sir Bat, so sweete it is,

"That thou, so neere of kinne to them,
Shalt also serue my lust:'

And therewithall in ruthles clawes
The haplesse Bat she trust."

HEERE meant the courtior to haue left,
Whom Perkin's lady prayes

To tell what end such wowing had:
And thus hereof he sayes.

"6 The Swallow saw that cruell pranke
And flies aloofe and sayde,

'Vngratefull glutton, what offence
Hath that thy seruant made?

"Choke mayst thou with the murther.' So
He left her, and vnto

The Cuckooe telleth what the Owle
Vnto the Bat did doe.

"Varlet,' (he, waxed cholericke)
'And what of that,' quoth he?

'Was not the Bat her bond-slaue, such.
As thou art now to me?

"What tel'st me then of other newes
Than what her answere is

Vnto mine amorous message, sayes
My lady nay or yis?'

"The Swallow told him that through such
Occurrant of the Bat

He, interrupted, came away

Vnaunswered in that.

et t A mischiefe,' quoth he, both on that
And thee, ill fauored elfe :'
And in a stammering chafe he fled

To wowe the Owle himselfe.

"The Swallow mans him thether, whom
The deu'lish Owle did hate,
And all because he had reprou'd
Her tyrannie of late.

"The Cuckooe, offering to haue biide,
She coyely turnde her face,

'Tis more,' quoth she, than needeth that We kisse, as stands the cace:

"Rid hence yonn same your knauish page, You sent him with a mouse To spie my secretes, or belike

To braue me in my house.

"Gods pretious, would you knew I beare A mind lesse bace then that:

I can disgest your drudge with me
So saucely should chat:

Jacke napes, forsooth, did chafe because
I eate my slaue the Bat.

"O what a world is this that we

Can nothing priuate haue Vncensur'd of our seruants, though The simplest gill or knaue?

"Well, rid him of your seruice: nay,
It skils not if of life,

At least if so you meane that we
Shall love as man and wife,
For such colecarriers in an house
Are etter hatching strife.'

"The Cuckooe, hearing this complaint,
Flew on his trusty page,
And vndiscreatly gaue him strokes
That kild him in that rage.
"Yeat, eare he left his life, he thus
Vnto his maister sayd:

• Thus many honest seruants in

Their maister's hastie brayd
"Are dog-like handled, either yeat
Like deare in loue's iust eyes:
Of harlots and of hastines

Beware,' sayd he, and dyes.
"When now her gluttony and spight
Had thus dispatched twaine,
The Cuckooe, plying amorously
Her fauour to obtaine,

"Euen then, and looking very bigge,
In came the Buszard, who

Did sweare that he would kill and slay,
I mary would he doe,

If any swad besides himselfe

Faire madam Owle did wowe.
"The Cuckooe, seeing him so bog,
Waxt also wondrous wroth:
But thus the Owle did stint the strife.

Shee cals them husbands both :

"Now fie' (quoth she) if so you could

Betwixt your selues agree,

Yee both should haue your bellies full,
And it no hurt to me."

"The Buszard faintly did consent,

The Cuckooe sayd 'Amen:'

And so was hen inough for cocke,
Not cocke inough for hen,

"For she deceyues them both, and had Besides them other game:

The gentle Buszard dying soone
For sorrow of the same.
"The Cuckooe wisely saw it and
Did say but little to it,
As nooting she was set on it,

And knowing she would doe it.
"But what the Swallow warned him
Of harlots proued trew,
For, as was gessed, also him
By trecherie she slew.

"The goddesse Pallas, to giue end
Vnto these tragicke deedes,
Descended, and (the dead reuiu'd)
To sentence thus proceedes.

"The Bat, because begild of Dis,

See pittieth partly and

Permits him twy-light flight: to giue
Thereby to vnderstand

That to aspire is lawfull, if

Betwixt a meane it stand.

"The Swallow, for that he was trew
And slaine for saying well,
She doomb'd a joyfull sommer's bird,
In winter time to dwell

Euen with Minèrua's secrete store,
As learned clarkes doe tell.

"The buzzard, for he doted more
And dared lesse than reason,
Through blind bace loue induring wrong
Reuengeable in season,

She eie-blur'd, and adiudged praies
The dastard'st and least geason.

"Vnto the Cuckooe, ouerkinde
To broke coriuals, she

Adiudg'd a spring-times changeles note,
And whilst his yong ones be

By others hatcht, to name and shame
Himselfe in euery tree.

"But liue,' quoth she, vnto the Owle,
• Ashamed of the light,

Be wondered at of birds by day,

Fly, filch, and howle all night, "Haue lazie wings, be euer leane,

In sullen corners rucke,

When thou art seene he thought a signe
To folke of euill lucke:

"Nor shall thine odious forme, vile witch, Be longer on my shield;'

Whence racing forth her figure, so
The goddesse left the field."

"JVST guerdons for ambition, for
Poore soules opprest for well,
For dastard dotards, wittolrie,
And harlots nice you tell,"

Said Perken's wife. But thus now of
Her husband's pride befell.

At last when sundry armes had end,
Henry victorious still,

And Perkin's passage was fore-stald, He yeelds of his owne will