Yea though Fortune her pleasant face
Should shew, to set me up aloft,

And straight my wealth for to deface,
Should writhe away, as she doth oft,
Yet would I still my self apply
To serue and suffer paciently.

There is no griefe, no smert, no wo,
That yet I fele, or after shall,

That from this minde may make me go,
And whatsoeuer me befall,

I do profess it willingly

To serue and suffer paciently.

THE LOUER SUSPECTED BLAMETH YLL TONGUES.

MISTRUSTFULL minds be moved,

To haue me in suspect,

The truth it shall be proved,
Which time shall once detect.
Though falshed go about,

Of crime me to accuse,
At length I do not dout,
But truth shall me excuse.
Such sawce, as they haue serued,
To me without desart,

Euen as they haue deserued,

Therof God send them part.

THE LOUER COMPLAINETH, AND HIS LADIE COM

FORTETH.

Louer. It burneth yet, alas, my hartes desire, Lady. What is the thing, that hath inflam'd thy hert?

Lo. A certaine point as feruent as the fyre.

La. The heat shall cease if that thou wilt conuert.
Lo. I cannot stop the feruent rageing yre.
La. What may I do, if thy self cause thy smart?
Lo. Heare my request, and rew my weeping chere.
La. With right good will say on: lo, I thee here.
Lo. That thing would I, that maketh two content.
La. Thou seekest, perchaunce of me, that I may

not.

Lo. Would God, thou wouldest, as thou mayst, well

assent.

La. That I may not the griefe is mine, God wot.
Lo. But I it fele, whatso thy wordes have ment.
La. Suspect me not, my wordes be not forgott.
Lo. Then say, alas! shall I have help or no?
La. I see no time to answere, yea, but no.
Lo. Say yea, dere hart, and stand no more in dout.
La. I may not grant a thing that is so dere.
Lo. Lo with delaies, thou driues me still about.
La. Thou wouldst my death, it plainly doth appere.
Lo. First may my heart his blood, and life blede

out.

La. Then for my sake, alas! thy will forbere.
Lo. From day to day, thus wastes my life away.
La. Yet for the best, suffre some small delay.
Lo. Now good, say yea, do once so good a dede.
La. If I sayd yea, what should therof ensue?

Lo. An hart in payne of succour so should spede, Twixt yea, and nay, my doute shall still renew,

My swete, say yea, and do away this drede. La. Thou wilt nedes so; be it so; but then be trew. Lo. Nought would I els, nor other treasure none. Thus harts be wonne by loue, request, and

mone.

WHY LOUE IS BLIND.

Or purpose, loue chose first for to be blinde,
For he with sight of that, that I beholde,
Vanquisht had been, against all godly kinde,
His bow your hand, and trusse should haue vnfolde.
And he with me to serue had been assinde,
But, for he blind, and reckless would him holde,
And still, by chance, his dedly strokes bestow,
With such, as see, I serue, and suffer wo.

TO HIS VNKINDE LOUE.

WHAT rage is this? what furor? of what kynde? What power? what plague doth wery thus mye Within my bones to rankle is assinde,

What poyson pleasant swete?

[minde?

Lo see myne eyes flow. with continual teares,
The body still away slepelesse it weares,
My foode nothing my fainting strength repaires,
Nor doth my limmes sustaine.

In depe wide wound, the dedly stroke doth turne, To cureles skarre that never shall returne, Go to, triumph, reioyce thy goodly turne, Thy frend thou doest oppresse.

Oppresse thou doest, and hast of him no cure, Nor yet my plaint no pitie can procure, Fierce tygre fell, hard rocke without recure Cruel rebell to loue.

Once may thou loue, neuer beloued again, So loue thou still, and not thy loue obtain, So wrathfull loue with spites of iust disdain, May thret thy cruell hart.

THE LOUER BLAMETH HIS INSTANT DESIRE.

DESIRE (alas!) my maister, and my fo,

So sore altered thy self, how maist thou see? Some time thou sekest, and driues me to and fro; Some time thou leadst, that leadeth thee and mee, What reason is to rule thy subjectes so,

By forced law and mutabilitie?

For where by thee I douted to haue blame,
Euen now by hate again I dout the same.

THE LOUER COMPLAINETH HIS ESTATE.

I SEE that chance hath chosen me
Thus secretly to liue in payne,
And to another geuen the fee,
Of all my losse to haue the gayne,
By chance assinde thus do I serue,
And other haue that I deserue.

Unto my self some time alone
I do lament my wofull case,
But what auaileth me to mone?
Since troth and pitie hath no place
In them, to whom I sue and serue,
And other haue that I deserue.

To seke my meane to change this mind, Alas, I proue it will not be ;

For in my hart I cannot finde,
Once to refraine, but still agree
As bound by force alway to serue,
And other have that I deserue.

Such is the fortune that I haue,
To loue them most, that loue me lest,
And to my paine to seke and craue
The thing, that other haue possest:
So thus in vaine alway I serue,
And other haue that I deserue.

And till I may appease the heate,
If that my happe will happe so well,
To wayle my wo my hart shall freate,
Whose pensif paine my tong can tell;
Yet thus unhappy must I serue
And other haue that I deserue.

OF HIS LOUE CALLED ANNA.

WHAT Word is that, that changeth not,
Though it be turnde and made in twaine?
It is mine Anna, God it wot,

The only causer of my paine;
My loue that medeth with disdaine.
Yet is it loued, what will you more?
It is my salue, and eke my sore.