Whose naked Armes stretch vnto the fyre,
Vnto such tyrannie doth aspire:
Hindering with his shade my louely light,
And robbing me of the swete sonnes sight?
175
So beate his old boughes my tender side,
That oft the bloud springeth from wounds wyde:
Vntimely my flowres forced to fall,
That bene the honor of your Coronall.
And oft he lets his cancker wormes light
180
Vpon my braunches, to worke me more spight:
And oft his hoarie locks downe doth cast,
Where with my fresh flowretts bene defast.
For this, and many more such outrage,
Crauing your goodlihead to aswage
185
The ranckorous rigour of his might,
Nought aske I, but onely to hold my right:
Submitting me to your good sufferance,
And praying to be garded from greeuance.
To this the Oake cast him to replie
190
Well as he couth: but his enemie
Had kindled such coles of displeasure,
That the good man noulde stay his leasure,
But home him hasted with furious heate,
Encreasing his wrath with many a threate.
195
His harmefull Hatchet he hent in hand,
(Alas, that it so ready should stand)
And to the field alone he speedeth.
(Ay little helpe to harme there needeth)
Anger nould let him speake to the tree,
200
Enaunter his rage mought cooled bee:
But to the roote bent his sturdy stroke,
And made many wounds in the wast Oake.
The Axes edge did oft turne againe,
As halfe vnwilling to cutte the graine:
205
Semed, the sencelesse yron dyd feare,
Or to wrong holy eld did forbeare.
For it had bene an auncient tree,
Sacred with many a mysteree,
And often crost with the priestes crewe,
210
And often halowed with holy water dewe.
But sike fancies weren foolerie,
And broughten this Oake to this miserye.
For nought mought they quitten him from decay:
For fiercely the good man at him did laye.
215
The blocke oft groned vnder the blow,
And sighed to see his neare ouerthrow.
In fine the steele had pierced his pitth,
Tho downe to the earth he fell forthwith:
His wonderous weight made the grounde to quake,
220
Thearth shronke vnder him, and seemed to shake.
There lyeth the Oake, pitied of none.
Now stands the Brere like a Lord alone,
Puffed vp with pryde and vaine pleasaunce:
But all this glee had no continuaunce.
225
For eftsones Winter gan to approche,
The blustring Boreas did encroche,
And beate vpon the solitarie Brere:
For nowe no succoure was seene him nere.
Now gan he repent his pryde to late:
230
For naked left and disconsolate,
The byting frost nipt his stalke dead,
The watrie wette weighed downe his head,
And heaped snowe burdned him so sore,
That nowe vpright he can stand no more:
235
And being downe, is trodde in the durt
Of cattell, and brouzed, and sorely hurt.
Such was thend of this Ambitious brere,
For scorning Eld
CVDDIE.
Now I pray thee shepheard, tel it not forth:
240
Here is a long tale, and little worth.
So longe haue I listened to thy speche,
That graffed to the ground is my breche:
My hartblood is welnigh frorne I feele,
And my galage growne fast to my heele:
245
But little ease of thy lewd tale I tasted.
Hye thee home shepheard, the day is nigh wasted.
Thenots Embleme.
Iddio perche è vecchio,
Fa suoi al suo essempio.
250
Cuddies Embleme.
Niuno vecchio,
Spaventa Iddio.
GLOSSE.
[3] Kene) sharpe.
[4] Gride) perced: an olde word much vsed of Lidgate, but not found (that I know of) in Chaucer.
[5] Ronts) young bullockes.
[10] Wracke) ruine or Violence, whence commeth shipwracke: and not wreake, that is vengeaunce or wrath.
[21] Foeman) a foe.
[25] Thenot) the name of a shepheard in Marot his Æglogues.
[33] The soueraigne of Seas) is Neptune the God of the seas. The saying is borowed of Mimus Publianus, which vsed this prouerb in a verse.
Improbè Neptunum accusat, qui iterum naufragium facit.
[35] Heardgromes) Chaucers verse almost whole.
[39] Fond Flyes) He compareth carelesse sluggardes or ill husbandmen to flyes, that so soone as the sunne shineth, or yt wexeth any thing warme, begin to flye abroade, when sodeinly they be ouertaken with cold.
[42] But eft when) A verye excellent and liuely description of Winter, so as may bee indifferently taken, eyther for old Age, or for Winter season.
[43] Breme) chill, bitter. [43] Chamfred) chapt, or wrinckled.
[47] Accoied) plucked downe and daunted.
[49] Surquedrie) pryde.
[54] Elde) olde age. [55] Sicker) sure. [55] Tottie) wauering.
[56] Corbe) crooked. [62] Herie) worshippe.
[63] Phyllis) the name of some mayde vnknowen, whom Cuddie, whose person is secrete, loued. The name is vsuall in Theocritus, Virgile, and Mantuane.
[66] Belte) a girdle or wast band. [69] A fon) a foole.
[74] lythe) soft and gentile.
[75] Venteth) snuffeth in the wind. [80] Thy flocks Father) the Ramme. [82] Crags) neckes.
[83] Rather Lambes) that be ewed early in the beginning of the yeare.
[87] Youth is) A verye moral and pitthy Allegorie of youth, and the lustes thereof, compared to a wearie wayfaring man.
[92] Tityrus) I suppose he meane Chaucer, whose prayse for pleasaunt tales cannot dye, so long as the memorie of hys name shal liue, and the name of Poetrie shal endure.
[96] Well thewed) that is, Bene moratæ, full of morall wisenesse.
[102] There grew) This tale of the Oake and the Brere, he telleth as learned of Chaucer, but it is cleane in another kind, and rather like to Æsopes fables. It is very excellente for pleasaunt descriptions, being altogether a certaine Icon or Hypotyposis of disdainfull younkers.
[118] Embellisht) beautified and adorned. [119] To wonne) to haunt or frequent. [126] Sneb) checke.
[127] Why standst) The speach is scorneful and very presumptuous. [131] Engrained) dyed in grain.
[135] Accloieth) encombreth. [141] Adawed) daunted and confounded.
[146] Trees of state) taller trees fitte for timber wood. [149] Sterne strife) said Chaucer .s. fell and sturdy. [150] O my liege) A maner of supplication, wherein is kindly coloured the affection and speache of Ambitious men.
[178] Coronall) Garlande. [182] Flourets) young blossomes.
[166] The Primrose) The chiefe and worthiest.
[171] Naked armes) metaphorically ment of the bare boughes, spoyled of leaues. This colourably he speaketh, as adiudging hym to the fyre.
[176] The blood) spoken of a blocke, as it were of a liuing creature, figuratiuely, and (as they saye) χατ’ εχασμóν.
[181] Hoarie lockes) metaphorically for withered leaues.
[195] Hent) caught. [199] Nould) for would not. [198] Ay) euermore. [202] Wounds) gashes.
[200] Enaunter) least
that.
[209] The priestes crewe) holy water pott, wherewith the popishe priest vsed to sprinckle and hallowe the trees from mischaunce. Such blindnesse was in those times, which the Poete supposeth, to haue bene the finall decay of this auncient Oake.
[215] The blocke oft groned) A liuelye figure, whiche geueth sence and feeling to vnsensible creatures, as Virgile also sayeth: Saxa gemunt grauido &c.
[226] Boreas) The Northerne wynd, that bringeth the moste stormie weather.
[224] Glee) chere and iollitie.
[238] For scorning Eld) And minding (as shoulde seme) to haue made ryme to the former verse, he is conningly cutte of by Cuddye, as disdayning to here any more.
[244] Galage) a startuppe or clownish shoe.
Embleme.
This embleme is spoken of Thenot, as a moral of his former tale: namelye, that God, which is himselfe most aged, being before al ages, and without beginninge, maketh those, whom he loueth like to himselfe, in heaping yeares vnto theyre dayes, and blessing them wyth longe lyfe. For the blessing of age is not giuen to all, but vnto those, whome God will so blesse: and albeit that many euil men reache vnto such fulnesse of yeares, and some also wexe olde in myserie and thraldome, yet therefore is not age euer the lesse blessing. For euen to such euill men such number of yeares is added, that they may in their last dayes repent, and come to their first home. So the old man checketh the rashheaded boy, for despysing his gray and frostye heares.
Whom Cuddye doth counterbuff with a byting and bitter prouerbe, spoken indeede at the first in contempt of old age generally. for it was an old opinion, and yet is continued in some mens conceipt, that men of yeares haue no feare of god at al, or not so much as younger folke. For that being rypened with long experience, and hauing passed many bitter brunts and blastes of vengeaunce, they dread no stormes of Fortune, nor wrathe of Gods, nor daunger of menne, as being eyther by longe and ripe wisedome armed against all mischaunces and aduersitie, or with much trouble hardened against all troublesome tydes: lyke vnto the Ape, of which is sayd in Æsops fables, that oftentimes meeting the Lyon, he was at first sore aghast and dismayed at the grimnes and austeritie of hys countenance, but at last being acquainted with his lookes, he was so furre from fearing him, that he would familiarly gybe and iest with him: Suche longe experience breedeth in some men securitie. Although it please Erasmus a great clerke and good old father, more fatherly and fauourablye to construe it in his Adages for his own behoofe, That by the prouerbe Nemo Senex metuit Iouem, is not meant, that old men haue no feare of God at al, but that they be furre from superstition and Idolatrous regard of false Gods, as is Iupiter. But his greate learning notwithstanding, it is to plaine, to be gainsayd, that olde men are muche more enclined to such fond fooleries, then younger heades.
March.
Ægloga Tertia.
ARGVMENT.
In this Æglogue two shepheards boyes taking occasion of the season, beginne to make purpose of loue and other plesaunce, which to springtime is most agreeable. The speciall meaning hereof is, to giue certaine markes and tokens, to know Cupide the Poets God of Loue. But more particularlye I thinke, in the person of Thomalin is meant some secrete freend, who scorned Loue and his knights so long, till at length him selfe was entangled, and vnwares wounded with the dart of some beautifull regard, which is Cupides arrowe.
WILLYE THOMALIN.
Thomalin, why sytten we soe,
As weren ouerwent with woe,
Vpon so fayre a morow?
The ioyous time now nigheth fast,
5
That shall alegge this bitter blast,
And slake the winters sorowe.
THOMALIN.
Sicker Willye, thou warnest well:
For Winters wrath beginnes to quell,
And pleasant spring appeareth.
10
The grasse nowe ginnes to be refresht,
The Swallow peepes out of her nest,
And clowdie Welkin cleareth.
WILLYE.
Seest not thilke same Hawthorne studde,
How bragly it beginnes to budde,
15
And vtter his tender head?
Flora now calleth forth eche flower,
And bids make ready Maias bowre,
That newe is vpryst from bedde.
Tho shall we sporten in delight,
20
And learne with Lettice to wexe light,
That scornefully lookes askaunce,
Tho will we little Loue awake,
That nowe sleepeth in Lethe lake,
And pray him leaden our daunce.
THOMALIN.
25
Willye, I wene thou bee assott:
For lustie Loue still sleepeth not,
But is abroad at his game.
WILLYE.
How kenst thou, that he is awoke?
Or hast thy selfe his slomber broke?
30
Or made preuie to the same?
THOMALIN.
No, but happely I hym spyde,
Where in a bush he did him hide,
With winges of purple and blewe.
And were not, that my sheepe would stray,
35
The preuie marks I would bewray,
Whereby by chaunce I him knewe.
WILLYE.
Thomalin, haue no care for thy,
My selfe will haue a double eye,
Ylike to my flocke and thine:
40
For als at home I haue a syre,
A stepdame eke as whott as fyre,
That dewly adayes counts mine.
THOMALIN.
Nay, but thy seeing will not serue,
My sheepe for that may chaunce to swerue,
45
And fall into some mischiefe.
For sithens is but the third morowe,
That I chaunst to fall a sleepe with sorowe,
And waked againe with griefe:
The while thilke same vnhappye Ewe,
50
Whose clouted legge her hurt doth shewe,
Fell headlong into a dell,
And there vnioynted both her bones:
Mought her necke bene ioynted attones,
She shoulde haue neede no more spell.
55
Thelf was so wanton and so wood,
(But now I trowe can better good)
She mought ne gang on the greene.
WILLYE.
Let be, as may be, that is past:
That is to come, let be forecast.
60
Now tell vs, what thou hast seene.
THOMALIN.
It was vpon a holiday,
When shepheardes groomes han leaue to playe,
I cast to goe a shooting.
Long wandring vp and downe the land,
65
With bowe and bolts in either hand,
For birds in bushes tooting:
At length within an Yuie todde
(There shrouded was the little God)
I heard a busie bustling.
70
I bent my bolt against the bush,
Listening if any thing did rushe,
But then heard no more rustling.
Tho peeping close into the thicke,
Might see the mouing of some quicke,
75
Whose shape appeared not:
But were it faerie, feend, or snake,
My courage earnd it to awake
And manfully thereat shotte.
With that sprong forth a naked swayne,
80
With spotted winges like Peacocks trayne,
And laughing lope to a tree.
His gylden quiuer at his backe,
And siluer bowe, which was but slacke,
Which lightly he bent at me.
85
That seeing I, leuelde againe,
And shott at him with might and maine,