Tottel sig. Ffiiiv

[sig. Ffiiiv]

The Memphite Zordas, a cunning clarke: To whom the heauen lay open, as his boke: And in celestiall bodies he could tell The mouyng, metyng, light, aspect, eclips, (30) And influence, and constellacions all: What earthly chances would betide: what yere Of plenty, storde, what signe forwarned derth: How winter gendreth snow, what temperature In the primetide doth season well the soyl: (35) Why somer burns, why autumne hath ripe grapes: Whether the circle, quadrate may become: Whether our times heauens harmony can yelde: Of four begins, among them selues how great Proporcion is: what sway the erryng lightes (40) Doth send in course gayn that first mouyng heauen: What grees, one from another distant be: what starre doth let the hurtfull sire to rage, Or him more milde what opposition makes: What fire doth qualify Mauorses fire: (45) what house ech one doth seke: what planet raignes Within this hemisphere, or that, small things I speake, whole heauen he closeth in his brest. This sage then, in the starres had spied: the fates Threatned him death, without delay: and sithe(50) He saw, he could not fatall order change: Forward he preast, in battayle that he might Mete with the ruler of the Macedoins: Of his right hand desirous to be slayne, The boldest beurn, and worthiest in the felde: (55) And, as a wight now weary of his life, And sekyng death: in first front of his rage, Comes desperatly to Alexanders face: At him, with darts, one after other throwes: With reckles wordes, and clamour him prouokes: (60) And saith, Nectanabs bastard, + shamefull stain Of mothers bed: why losest thou thy strokes, Cowards among? Turne thee to me, in caseManhod there be so much left in thy hart: Come fight with me: that on my helmet weare (65) Appolloes laurell, both for learnings laude, And eke for martiall praise: that, in my shield, The seuenfold sophie of Minerue contein: +