M. My paynes alas, who can expresse, H. I see no cause of heauinesse. (5) M. My Ladies lookes, my woe hath wrought, H. Then blame thine eyes, that first hath sought, M. I burne alas, and blow the fire, +H. A foole consumes by his desire. M. What shall I do than? + come out and thou can: (10) M. Alas I die, H. what remedie:
M. My sugred sweete, is mixed with gall, H. Thy Ladie can not doe with all: +M. The more I seeke, the lesse I finde, H. Then striue not with the streame and winde. +(15) M. Her must I loue, although I smart, H. With her owne sword, thou slayest thy hart: M. Such pleasaunt baites, who can refraine, H. Such baites will sure breed thee great paine. M. What shall I do than? H. Come out and thou can, (20) M. Alas I die, H. what remedie.
M. Her golden beames, mine eyes do daze, H. Upon the Sunne, thou mayest not gaze: M. She might reward, my cruell smart, H. She thinkes thou hardst a fayned hart. (25) M. she laughes to heare my wofull cries, H. Forsake her then, in tyme be wise: M. No, no, alas, that may not bee, H. No wiseman then, will pitie thee: M. what shall I do than? H. Come out and thou can, (30) M. Alas I die, H. what remedie.
M. A liuing death, loe thus I proue, H. Such are the fruites of froward loue: M. O that I might her loue once gayne, H. Thy gayne would not, halfe quite the paine. (35) M. Her will I loue, though she be coye, H. A foole himselfe, will still annoye: M. who will not die, for such a one? H. Be wise at length, let her alone. M. I can not doe so, H. then be thy owne foe, (40) M. Alas I dye, H. what remedie.
The complaint of a Louer, wearing Blacke and Taunie +
A Crowne of bayes, shall that man weare, That triumphes ouer mee: For blacke and taunie will I weare, Which mourning colours bee.
(5) The more I follow on, the more she fled away, As Daphne did full long ago, Apollos wishfull pray: the more my plaintes I resounde, the lesse she pities me, The more I sought, the lesse I found, that mine she meant to be.
Melpomene alas, with dolefull tunes helpe than, (10) And sing Bis, + woe worth on me forsaken man: Then Daphnes bayes shall that man weare, that triumphes ouer me, For blacke and taunie will I weare, which mourning colours be.
Droune me you trickling teares, you wailfull wights of woe, Come helpe these hands to rent my heares, my rufull hap to showe! (15) Of whom the scorching flames of Loue, doth feede you see, Ah a lalalantida my deare Dame, hath thus tormented mee.
Wherfore you Muses nine , with dolefull tunes helpe than, And sing Bis + woe worthe on me forsaken man: Then Daphnes bayes shall that man weare, that triumphes ouer me, (20) For blacke and taunie will I weare, which mourning colours be.
An Ankers life to lead, with nayles to scratch my graue, where earthly wormes on me shall feede, is all the ioyes I craue: And hide my selfe from shame, sith that mine eyes do see, Ah a lalalantida my deare Dame, hath thus tormented mee.
(25) And all that present be, with dolefull tunes helpe than, And sing Bis + woe worthe on me, forsaken man.
FINIS. E. O.