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(20) Rise vp out of the graue, for now the iudge is come.
FINIS. L. Vaux.
Beyng in Loue, he complaineth. +
E Nforst by Loue and feare, to please and not offend, Within the wordes you would me write, a message I must send: A wofull errande sure, a wretched man must write, A wretched tale, a wofull head, beseemeth to indite.
(5) For what can he but wayle, that hath but all he would, And yet that all is nought at all, but lacke of all he should: But lacke of all his minde, what can be greater grief, That haue and lacke that likes him best, must needes be most mischief.
Now foole what makes thee waile, yet some might say full well, (10) That hast no harme but of thy selfe, as thou thy selfe canst tell: to whom I aunswere thus, since all my harmes do grow, Upon my selfe, so of my selfe, some hap may come I trow.
And since I see, both hap and harme betides to mee, For present woe, my after blisse, will make me not forget thee: (15) Who hath a field of gold, and may not come therein, Must liue in hope, till he haue force, his treasure well to win.
Whose ioyes by hope of dread, + to conquere or to lose, So great a wealth doth rise, and for example doth disclose: to winne the golden Fleece, stoode Iason not in dread, (20) Till Medeas hope of health, did giue him hope to speede.
Yet sure his minde was much, and yet his feare the more, That hath no hap, but by your helpe, may hap for to restore: The raging Bulles he dread, yet by his Ladies charme, He knew it might be brought to passe, they could do litle harme.