humbly take my leave. From the Augustine Fryers "(now Austin Friars), the 12th day of April, 1598. "Your Worship's ever most bounden, “And dutiful in all humility, "JOHN WILBYE." CLXXX. Ah me! can every rumour Thus start my lady's humour? Name ye some galante to herWhy straight forsooth I woo her! Then bursts she forth in passion"You men love but for fashion." Yet sure I am that no man Ever so loved woman. Then, alas! love, be wary, For women be contrary. Ladies, beware of jealousy; for a grief of heart and sorrow is a woman that is jealous over another woman. (Ecclesiasticus, xxvi. 6.) Moreover, beware of giving cause for jealousy, as it is an ordinary thing for women to scrat the faces or slit the noses of such as they suspect. So Henry the Second's queen did by Fair Rosamond, who complains, she scarce spake, "But flew with eager fury to my face, "Offering me most unwomanly disgrace."-S. Daniel. Far better in such cases, according to Mr. Burton's advice, "to interpret charitably all things for the best, like St. "Francis; who by chance seeing a friar saluting another "man's wife, was so far from misconceiving it, that he 'presently kneeled down, and thanked God there was so "much charity left in the world." CLXXXI. Dear Pity! how, ah! how wouldst thou become her; But still to waste myself in deep admiring? Like him who calls on Echo to relieve him; Still tells, still hears the tale-Oh! tale to grieve him. CLXXXII. What needeth all this travail and turmoiling, To seek this far-fetch'd treasure In these hot climates under Phœbus broiling? O fools! can you not see a traffic nearer In my sweet lady's face? where nature showeth And orient pearls such plenty; Coral and ambergis, sweeter and dearer Than which the South Seas or Moluccas lend us, Or either Indies, east or west, do send us. If both be not translations from the same original, this is a close imitation of the following sonnet by Spenser: "Ye tradeful merchants, that with weary toil "Do seek most precious things, to make your gain; "And both the Indies of their treasures spoil, "What needeth you to seek so far in vain? "For lo! my love doth in herself contain "All this world's riches that may far be found," &c. About this period the cupidity of merchant adventurers was greatly excited to explore "...those lands where spices serve for fuel." One of the greatest schemers was Sir Walter Raleigh, who wrote an account of "The Discovery of the large, rich, and "beautiful Empire of Guiana, with a relation of the great "and golden city of Manoa, called by the Spaniards El "Dorado." CLXXXIII. Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting, Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours; And then behold your lips, where sweet love harbours; Mine eyes present me with a double doubting : For viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes, Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses. Wilbye has set these lines to music both of four and six voices. They are apparently translated from the following Italian Madrigal: "Quand' io miro le rose, "Non so conoscer poi "Se voi le rose, o sian le rose in voi." Music by Bianciardi, 1590. CLXXXIV. Thus saith my Cloris bright, When we of love sit down and talk together: Beware of love! love is a walking sprite; And love is this and that, And, oh! I know not what; And comes and goes again I wot not whither. No, no; these are but bugs to breed amazing, For in her eyes I saw his torchlight blazing. This Madrigal, and So saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris, are from the same Italian original. Vide No. L. The word Bug is of Celtic origin, and signifies a ghost or goblin. "Tush, tush, fright boys with bugs." Taming of the Shrew, act i. scene 2. In Matthews's Bible, A.D. 1537, the 5th verse of the 91st Psalm is thus rendered: "Thou shalt not need to be afraid "for any bugs by night;" literally, in the Hebrew, terror of the night. The word, I believe, was not applied to a wellknown little creature till late in the 17th century. To prevent offence to ears polite, tricks is generally substituted for bugs when the Madrigal is sung. CLXXXV. Adieu! sweet Amarillis, For since to part your will is; Oh, heavy, heavy tiding, Here is for me no biding. Yet once again, ere that I part with you, Adieu, sweet Amarillis; sweet, adieu! These lines to many may appear trifling, but whosoever hath known what it is to bid a last, and again another last adieu, will acknowledge the natural simplicity of the description. CLXXXVI. Die, hapless man, since she denies thee grace; Sith for my duteous love thou dost reprove me. CLXXXVII. I always beg, yet never am relieved; I grieve, but yet my griefs are not believed; I cry aloud in vain, with voice outstretched, And get but this ;-mine echo calls me wretched. Not quite so uncivil a reply as the echo gives in No. CCCLXX.; but by no means so satisfactory as that of some celebrated hill in Ireland, which in answer to the words How do you do, responds Very well I thank you. CLXXXVIII. Lady, your words do spite me; Yet your sweet lips so soft, kiss and delight me: Your deeds my heart, surcharged with overjoying: |