My Herball booke in Folio I vnfold,
I pipe of Plants, I sing of so-mer flowers,
But chiefly on the Mayden Marygold,
and of the Daisie, both braue Belamours:
Trophies for Kings, Imprese for Emperours,
Garlands to beare vpon the braue Ensignes
Of Knights, of Peeres, of princely Palladines.
Then (Flora) come thou florishing fair Queen,
oh child of Maia thou must be my Muse,
To gird my temples with thy gawdy greene,
and with thy fuming flowers my front infuse
With Roses, Paunsyes, Pinks, as Poets vse
With Lawrel Bay, and Baucis neuer old,
For to attend my Virgin Mary-gold.
Lend me thy Purple and the Pall depainted,
thy faire enameld mantle thou didst weare,
Whe- first thou cam'st Idolatryz'd & sainted,
installed by the bewtie of the yeare:
Oh lend to me that garment and that geare,
So that my verses they may sweetly smell,
And I aboue all siuet may excell:
And you (fair damsels) you who danc't that day
when heauenly Flora first was holified,
That mightie mistres, this same child of May,
come hither sweetings, come sit by my syde:
Tune to my song and see what will betyde,
Bring timbrils, pipe & harpe, & heare me play,
And lye thee a while, and listen to my lay.
There is a Citie lying neare the North,
By name ycleaped Nycol heretofore,
Where ancient Lacyes, men of mickle worth,
were Rulers many a hundreth yeares of yore,
And domineerd with dignitie and power.
Thy Earldome (Nycol) the- did bear great sway,
But Earldoms, Earles & Counties now decay.
This Citie it is seated on a hill,
whereas the faithlesse Iewes did sacrifice,
And did the corps of young sir Hugo kill,
wherefore the Christians him did canonise,
And built a Temple in most sumptuous wise,
Where Hugo lies interred in a shrine,
For to be seene at this same present time.
This Temple takes his name of good sir Hugh,
and with his loftie pinacles doth looke,
And doth his famous running Riuer view,
where faire Tarenta Lady of that brooke,
Doth glyde into each Angle, and each nooke:
And with a siluer snakie twine she runs,
To father Humber, whylom king of Huns.
But soft and faire this fitteth not my vaine
Of Chroniks craft I haue but litle skill,
Vnto my Herbadge I will go againe,
for that draws best acquaintance to my quill:
Therefore you faire sweet Virgins sit you still.
For in this Citie which I did rehearse,
Doth dwell the very subiect of my verse.
There planted is a Garden (not by Art)
nor any cunning of the Craftsmans skill,
But euen by Nature, who hath playd her part,
to be our chiefe and speciall worker still:
Whose essence takes she from the makers will,
That frameth all things by his mightie power,
Both trees and Plants, and euery prety flower.
Heere is no talke of the forbidden Tree,
(as was in Edoms Orchard at the first)
Nor Serpent hissing with his subtletie:
when as the simple man became accurst:
And from that Garden into thraldome thrust,
Heere is no spirit with a flaming sword,
As Gardiner to some great and mightie Lord.
Both Earth and Firmament doth fauour it,
Bedabling with the dewe of heauenly drops
The raies of Sun doth sweetly sauour it,
making it sprout with tall and tender tops:
Of many kinds of smelling knubs and knobs,
When as the sheading of our Aprill showers
Do breake their bunches foorth to leaues and flowers.
There springs the princely redrose & the white
as Chaires of State and high imperial place,
where they two famous houses do vnite:
whe-ce comes our kings & queenes of Regall race,
Vnder the Gods that do protect their grace
Whose stirp & stock fro- beds of Roses breede,
Borne and begotten of that sweet faire seede.
Next to the Roses, growes the Flower-deluce,
the flower of ancient Lewis Lord of France,
Whose golde- leaues of that same goodly Luce,
did Lewis long maintain with manlike lance
Till Albions Ensigne did the same aduance.
Whe- English Edward third of that same name,
By battle bold brought in this flower of Fame.
Next vnto it, the pretie Pauncyes springs,
all in a ranck in borders and in beds,
Who represents a geanalog of kings,
with purple crowns vpo- their princely heads,
With heary bristles which their chins bespread
An Index of much magnanimitie,
Of Vertue, Valour, and Virilitie.
By them do grow the kingcups like to gold,
with sops in wine, that euery heart delights:
Which cups the Kings in co-pleme-ts do hold,
carousing to their champions & their knights:
That in their seruice, for their honor fights:
Kissing the cup, and drinking to the health
Both of their kings, & of their Co-monwealth.
Next growes the blew cornuted Collumbine,
like to the crooked hornes of Acheloy
When he in shape and Metamorphosin,
of mightie Bull, the wrastler did annoy,
But yet the striuer did this beast destroy:
And when this monstrous battle did surceace,
His hornes became our threaserhouse of peace.
There Flora takes them by their golden tips,
Flora that is our flourishing faire Queene,
And straws & fa-neth forth her flowers & slips
with gaudie garlands girding Albions greene,
With Oliue branches that for peace haue bene:
Blest be our Flora, that so long hath borne,
This Cornu Copia, this same plenteous horne.
The next my pretie Marygold displaies,
her golden bloome like to the sunny beames
Spreading abroad her rich and radyent rayes,
resembling Titan in his hottest streames,
Euen in the glory of his Summer gleames:
So shynes my Marygold, so doth she showe,
So as she seemes a second Sun belowe.
Who in the morning spreads her yealow haire
like to the blaze of golden Phœbus bright:
That maks the heue-ly clymes to shine so clear,
illuminating all the world with light,
So shines my Marygold so faire in sight:
Till in the darke when as the day is dun,
She closeth vp and setteth with the Sun.
Thus proudly doth she braue sir Phebus shining
and seconds him both in his prime of morn,
And in the night euen at his downe declining,
setting the silly Sunburnt god at scorn,
As if that she the soueraigne sway had born,
Disdaining things inferiour here that lies:
But lookes aloft, as Ladie of the Skies.
On her attends the Dasie dearly dight,
that pretie Primula of Lady Uer,
As hand-maid to her mistresse day and night,
so doth she watch, so waiteth she on her,
With double diligence and dares not stir,
A fairer flower perfumes not forth in May,
Then is this Daisie, or this Primula.
About her neck she wears a rich wroght ruffe,
with double sets most braue & broad bespread,
Resembling louely Lawn or Cambrick stuffe,
pind vp and prickt vpon her yealow head,
Wearing her haire on both sides of her shead:
And with her countenance she hath a cast,
Wagging the wa-ton with each wynd and blast.
Commend me to the yong ones of the Corte,
and marke how as the pretie Mophies sits,
Wagging their countenance in seemely sorte,
with modest blush that bewtie so befits,
Wyeling fond louers sometime fro- their wits:
So wags this wanton with a red complexion,
When as the Sun darts to her his reflection.
Heere could I set you downe the Honysuckle
the pretie Pinke and purple Pianet,
The Bugles, Boradge, and the blew Bottle,
the bonny Belamour and Violet,
And thriuing Thrift if men would gather it
With louely Lillies and the faire Narcis,
And Uenus sleepe at noone with Adonis.
It were a worke of labour to vnfold
the priuate secrets of each priuie plant,
Therefore (my Muse) go to the Marygold,
least wit be wearied and thy sences scant,
And paper, pen and Ink and all do want,
And in thy study spend a learned hower,
To grace and fauour that same golden flower.
Downe once againe descend (oh holy dame)
infuse me (Flora) with thy summers heate:
And fa- my forehead with thy flowers of fame,
when as my temples they begin to sweate,
And that my busie braines & browes do beate.
Fan on apace (my Muse) till I haue told
What did betide my maiden Marygold.
It chanced once, the faire Cytherian Queene
came to this goodly Garden on a day:
And brings with her, false Cupid to this greene,
where she and he begun to sport and play,
Where Venus did the fair sweet flowers suruay:
Who being pretie frolike in her sport,
She speaketh to her sonne in this same sort.
My child quoth she, & puls him by the chin,
and laies her other hand about his neck,
And with her lips she culs and kisses him,
as she were charmd, from giuing him a check,
Because the boy was alwaies at her beck.
The flattering queen knew how to curry fauor
Who woed the wa-ton boy with bold behauior.
My child said she, me thinks thou shuldst haue power,
to plague in loue, each Plant & tender spring,
And brand forth fiery flames on euery flower,
as thou dost vse and threat each other thing,
With bended bow of steele, & stubborn string,
With shafts to shoot out, & sharp headed darts
Wherewith thou cruelly dost gall mens harts.
Why yes quoth Cupid, do but view this Vine,
mark but the sweet imbraceme-ts of his bra-ches
And see his arms how wa-to-ly they twine,
and how his loines lie on his louers hanches,
Where Venus in his Vinyards he aduances,
Distilling Nectar beryes from aboue:
All which proceedeth from the God of loue.
Hark how the Bay tree she begins to breath,
and seems to sigh as she had languisht long:
And with the wanton wind to wrig & wreath,
against the god that did the girle such wro-g,
As I haue heard some sing in Ouids song:
So that when all is said and all is done,
This all you see is subiect to your sonne.
Then list quoth Uenus, til my tale be told,
Long hath this Woodbine tree a woer beene
Vnto this proud disdainfull Marygold,
the Viccar of a vaine vsurping Queene,
Checking the sonne as I haue often seene,
Disdaining both the heue-ly powers proud Elf:
And flowting at all flowers but it selfe.
Thou seest the Woodbyne is a tender tree,
that like a wanton winds about our wood,
His flowring forth as sweet as sweet may bee,
his youthfull sap much like the lustie blood,
In rules of Phisick seene and counted good,
A Doctor, to delay this sulty heat,
That sweet hearts take in trauel of their sweat.
How oft comes he with kingcups full of gold,
and as a present offereth to this flower,
And riches in great handfuls he doth hold,
rayning vpon her lap an Oryent shower,
Of Pearle, which mo-gst faire wome- haue much power
But al as naught hir nicitie neglects the-,
And euen as rags most rudely she reiects the-.
This spoke false Venus to her bastard brat,
and when her iolly circumstance was done,
The dame tuckt vp he cloaths & down she sat,
and all in haste she cals her litle sonne,
And for to bend his bow she first begun,
Then giue him shafts to practise all his power,
And bring the downfal of this dainty flower.
This cunning Archer aymeth at the marke
(mary at hittie missie is he tooting)
The Boy was blind as is the dazled darke,
and neuer suer, nor certaine in his shooting:
For oftentimes he fayleth in his footing.
As you shall heare how this same craftie child,
Euen in the brag of cunning was beguild.
It chanct, a Bee came flying to this flower,
with hummng melodie, & bumming noyce:
And lights vpon her stalk euen at that stower,
for in his flowers he is very choyce:
Sitting & singing there with buzing voyce.
Working in sommer for his healthfull hiue,
That he in winter might the better thriue.
He came but lately from the damaske Rose,
vnto my Marygould that shines so sunnie:
And got him there a paire of yealow hose,
of virgin waxe, all wet about with hunnie.
The sweetest wax that can be made for mony
With Meldeaw clam'd, and clagged were his knees,
To cary home, & bring vnto his Bees.
But walladay, he was not there aware,
of Cupids shaft, nor of his sudden clap:
The Hony catcher came vnto his care,
for there the silly flie receiued a rap:
(Alas poore Bumble buz, for thy ill hap)
For why the blinded boy (ay me for thee)
Did misse the golden bud, and gauld the Bee.
But here I leaue the honey bird confounded,
that wofully aloft away did fling:
All vnto death he is most deeply wounded,
and stu-g himself, that somtimes vs'd to sting:
Here must I leaue that hony bird of wing,
And tell how Venus waxed wrathfull wilde,
And red with anger at her recklesse childe.
Blind bastard (quoth the dame) what hast thou done,
recklesse vnskilfull and vnluckie elfe?
Thou base begotten boy, and Cuckolds sonne,
the sorow of thy shaft light on thy selfe,
And plague the archer with his trash & pelfe:
And breake thy bow, & shiuer shaft and dart,
And clean vnarme thee, blind boy as thou art.
Nay then (quoth Cupid) mother you are blind,
that would not help to rule my ayme & me:
Vnles you had bene mad or out of mind,
you might haue seene at first I could not see:
But I haue shot, and that which will, will bee.
The Marygold must grow and florish faire,
And in the honey combe must liue all care.
Behold the binder shall become a Bond,
Vnto this golden stem that here you see:
(Thinke not my prophesie for to be fond)
For he that once did bind the biggest tree,
vnto this tender twig, a bond must bee.
And to the good abearing must be staide,
Vntill loues Manumissum it be made.
The sting that breeds vppon the hony britch,
delayes the deadly stinging of my dart:
And heals the wound and takes away the stitch,
and is a soueraigne salue against his smart.
Who like Prometheus Griphin gripes the hart,
So sting for sting, poyson for poyson (mother)
As in our nayles one driueth out an other.
Prat'st thou quoth Venus of old Augurisme?
com'st thou to tell me Beldams Oracles?
Telst me of any sect or southsawe scisme?
Must I beleeue thy rables and thy Ridles?
And like a dunce doate on thy didle fidles?
In faith sir no, for I haue sworne, my power
Shall work the fatall end of this proud flower.
To this her Cupid answered pretely,
how often (mother) haue I seene you shake
The beawtie and the splendor of this tree,
and of the Marygoulds, gay garlands make:
Yea you your self to weare them for their sake.
And on your locks to place the pretie ones,
Preferring them before the precious stones.
How often haue I seene your Coatcher trot,
when you in pomp to Paphos Island ran?
How often mother haue I garlands got,
for euery Doue, and euery milk white Swan
That drew your Chariot & your gay waggan.
And make your prety Pidgions teams & yoaks
Of Mary-goulds to hang about their throats.
How often haue the buds bene laid abroad
vpon the traces whereas you should tread?
How oft haue they thy stately altars strawd,
and we exalting there thy holy head,
Whilst Hymnes wer su-g, & sacred Psalms were sed:
Me thinks I see how all the rabble runs,
Vnto thy Church, with chaines of golden suns.
The- (queen) accept the ofsprings of this flower,
and offer not the golden Bud disgrace,
For she is pleasing to thy princely power,
and therefore cursse it not in any case:
I pray thee mother let my prayers take place,
And let her shine as doth the glimsing sunne,
And do as well as she to fore hath done.
Thus Cupid said, but see this self-wild wench,
Uenus she brings a Brierhooke in her hand,
And cuts me down each border & green be-ch
and all the shading shelter that did stand,
To guard the flowers from the filchers hand,
And letteth in a Northern vncoth aire,
That almost blasted had her Bloomes so faire.
Note that all mischief commeth fro- the North
for in his blast he bloweth Boreas in,
Who from his freezing harbour co-meth forth,
with chilled cheekes and hory frozen chin,
His blood all thawne away & visage thin:
His slauering beard and lips with spattle spewd
With drops of frozen Ifixles bedewd.
He foamde his froth vpon her tender rynd,
and made her seeme as sunshine in a mist:
And with a winter blast he blowes his wind,
beslauering her, with sluttishnesse he kist,
And had bene withered there ere she had wist
But that the blaze of sunny beames by chance,
Dissolu'd the storme, & blest the te-der bra-ch.
But now I will returne vnto the Bee,
the little Wasp and fillie wounded thing:
Who like a souldier from the victorie,
comes maymed home, his arme vpo- a string:
So droups this Bee, so hangs he down his wing,
Shewing the Marygold his mortall scarre,
Who vnto death was wounded in her warre.
His hony it was turned into gall,
his wax that he about him long had borne,
The hony and the hony combe and all,
and all his britches from his buttocks torne,
Was from his body wasted and quight worne.
As sure if you had seene you would haue sed,
He had bene prisoner in the spyder web.
His loyns were lean through fast & euil fare,
His legs & knees as ca-mocks wer all crooked
That vp & down did carie him with care,
his horns that wer so strait, became both hooked:
Who like a litle spright or diuell he looked:
His breath not seruing him to buz or bum,
Nor scarce with any noise to heare him hum.
Vnto this flower he falles downe on his knee,
iust at the roote that grew vpon the ground:
And said grant mercie Marygold on me,
and lend a leafe to lay vnto my wound,
That it might plaister me and make me sound.
For on thy branch I here did take my bane,
And here I hope to be recured againe.
Denie me not (oh thou faire golden flower)
sweet giue mee leaue a while that I might sit
Vpon thy yealow head and worke an hower,
and for my hungry selfe some honey get,
For all is wasted, I haue not awhit.
I tell thee my distresse, to thee I shriue me,
I haue no helpe, vnlesse thy selfe wilt hiue me.
I will not (as the creeping canker) waste thee,
nor as the worm in wodsear time bespew thee,
I come not like the Butterflie to blast thee:
nor with foule deadly venom to bedeaw thee:
Ile leaue thee euen as fresh as earst I knew thee:
Ile make my golde- shrub that shines so sunny,
As sweet as is the hony combe or hunny.
With that but I must tell you here a wonder)
and almost past my credit for to speake,
This branch her biggen she did burst in sunder
her haire vpon a sudden on her neck,
That seemd to waue, and giue the Bee a beck:
And laid her leaues wide open there for him,
That vp aloft the Bee might better climb.
Vpon her flew the flie and suckt her sweet,
and plaid full peartly with that pretie one,
And there full featly labourd with his feet,
and kist her, least he shuld be deemd a drone:
Now blest be loue, for there was loue alone,
The Bee begins to find and stir his sting,
Beleeue me (loue) thou art a wanton thing.
There he receiues the deaw of hony drops,
and bathes his lims that were so leane & lank,
And in her circle vp and downe he hops,
and feeds apace and doth refresh his flank,
And with her wax he stores his spindle shank,
And now the hony bird away doth styue,
With bu-ming and with humming to his hyue.
To buz of Caltha now the Bee was bold,
of Caltha now were all the Echos ringing:
For now no more he cals her Marygold,
but newes fro- Lady Caltha is he bringing,
Of faire sweet Lady Caltha is he singing:
And vp and downe he flieth with her fame,
Till he vnto his hiue and harbour came.
His Bees with welco-e rou-d about him swarms
and bringeth him into his thatched home,
And marching all along like men at armes,
they place him in the highest hony come,
Where he as king doth keepe, and rules alone,
And all his subiects offering him their seruice:
For to disarme him of his hony harmes.
One doth his boots vnbutton from his shins,
an other helps for to vntie his hose:
An other wipeth hony from his wings,
that came from Lady Caltha and the rose,
The which he gets when he his prograce goes.
And thus comd home with heuie drowsy hed,
Th' vnnu-bred birds do bring their Bee to bed.
And there he sleeps & slumbers til the morne,
when he awakes and wipes his pinking eies,
And vp he starts and bloweth like a horne,
where all his souldiers in a swarme do rise,
Attending on him wheresoeuer he flies.
And he againe into his garden goes,
Whereas his Goddesse Lady Caltha growes.
There sit they round about & gards this flower
some making of their hony on the Mallow:
An other biting on the Bellamour,
an other like a little dapper fellow
Worketh on yarrow, making wax so yealow,
And euery Fly vnto his flower goes,
Some to the Red, some to the damask Rose.
Where hauing got their hony and their wax,
they come to Caltha, where their maister sits,
And throws their hony Ierkins down & Iacks
and giues to him the gaine their labour gets.
Thus industrie his common welth befits:
So when they are disloded of their store,
They buz about, and flies away for more.
In meane while this same mightie bumble Bee,
is framing of a Chappell for his Queene,
With strange and costly Archetectury,
the rarest sight that euer yet was seene,
Of waxen worke, was neuer like I weene:
Pillers of hony combes with Piramis,
And strong pilasters of great statelinesse.
And at one end there stands a proper steeple,
dawbing his height with hony for his lime:
And bels to ring in these same pretie people,
when as they take it to be seruice time,
To say their praiers, their Matte-s & their prime
And when this Chapell ended was and wald,
La santa Caltha, this same bee it cald.
With Virgin wax he makes a hony alter,
and on it stands, the torches and the tapers,
Where he must sing his Rosarye and Psalter,
and pray deuoutly on his holy papers,
With book, with candlelight, with bels & clappers,
And in the praise of Goddesse Caltha sing,
That all the holy quier & Church may ring.
Vpon this holy altar there doth stand,
The Coatch of Phœbus carued all of wax,
And there the mightie God with whip in hand
it seemes the winged Pegasies he thwacks,
Laying good load of blowes vpon their backs:
And throgh the Regions they do seem to run,
Carrying faire Caltha, shining like the Sun.
When this same holy Idoll he had done,
He cals his pretie people round about:
And maketh Priests and Presbiters, and some
of Fryers & Monks he makes a rabble rout,
Of Clarks & Limitors to kneele and lowt,
And ther they take at this same present houre
The name of holy Caltheans, from this flower.
The fame of these, and of this new religion,
was spred abroad with passing great report,
And rumor of it, rattles through each Region,
till that it came to Lady Uenus cort,
God speed my pen for heere begins the sport:
For now doth Venus bite and beate her fists,
To be reuenged on these Calthanists.
And calling Cupid, this her pretie Squire,
quoth shee, lets to these Heretiques in hast,
And burne the bees, and set their hiues on fire,
And all their waxen superstitions wast,
And charme their Caltha there that is so chast:
And bring her cursed Cannons to their care,
And plague her prelates with their prophane prayre.
She sends for all the Spyders she could get,
and calleth for that mightie Cranyon:
Who doth his web and subtle engyns set,
and of the long legs brings he many a one,
With Venus to this garden are they gone,
Wher they the bees behold with buzing charm
As thick as flyes that in Appuleia swarm.
There pitched they their toyles in euery gap,
and made their gloads the Bees for to beguile
And with their trammels many do intrap,
and fetters by the feete (alack the while)
Beware great bu-ble buz of this same wile:
For why the mightie Cranion comes to catch thee
If that thy warriors do not ward & watch thee.
To Caltha is the craftie Spyder gone,
& weaueth there a witching web (god wot)
With subtle slender thrids and many a one,
where if thou goest, thy chance is to be got,
What Flye soeuer comes escapes it not:
And let him toyle to come out of his gin,
The more he striues, the surer is he in.
The Cranion cast his net vpon this flower,
that seemed like a wroght bra-ch vnder Lawn
And there it had not bene aboue an houre,
but comes the Bee, and to this bud is flowne,
(He had not made such hast if he had knowne)
But after wit hath very seldome thanks,
The Bee is got & shakled by the shanks.
Now Venus figgeth, and in hast she runs,
and Cupid following after her doth fling:
And to this litle captiue prisoner comes,
whereas she takes the bumble by the wing:
(For why she was afraid the bee would sting)
And piniond him that nowhere could he pas,
But there as prisoner vnto Venus was.
She bids her boy, that wily wanton wag,
to hold him fast, least he should flie away:
Whilest she had tyde a thrid about his leg,
and gaue him Cupid for to find him play:
As children do with litle birds they say.
And there the string he holdeth in his hand,
Whilest that the bee is buzzing in the band.
The boy he gaue the bu-ble too much scope,
he found such pretie gambals with the fly:
The Bee that had large compasse of his rope,
I flew at his face, and stung him by and by:
Whereat poore Cupid he began to cry.
And from his fist the ioyfull bird is fled,
And from aloft, with string about his leg.
He durst not flie where briers and bushes were,
least that the thrid shuld trap him in the trees,
But mounts aloft and houers in the Ayre,
till that he came vnto his little Bees,
That helps to pull the shackles from his knees.
And there Ile leaue him sure and safe at home,
And tell how Venus doth her boy bemone.
She vp and downe the Garden now doth gad,
to gather all the coolest hearbs that grow:
To phisick and to leach her wounded lad,
whose face like to a blather blown doth show:
As scarce his mother could her Cupid know.
And trying many precious plants that bee,
At length she commeth to the woodbind tree.
And going to his binding branch, that clung
like to a Serpent twining on a tree:
She told him, Cupid with a Bee was stung,
asking the flouer what phisick ther might bee
To take away the stinging of the flee.
Who answered her like to a learned Clark,
Be-ding with reuerence, both his rynd & bark.
And said in phisick I haue had some toyle,
and for the Scorpions stinging I haue found,
Nothing can cure, but euen his proper oyle,
which being taken, salues and maketh sound,
And easeth straight the anguish of the wound.
So, for this Bee, the best and chiefest thing,
Is his owne hony, for to kill his sting.
Of late he came and light vpon my head,
and got much hony & his meldew wrought,
And when he went away, some of it shead,
and left behind where I the hony cought.
And looking towards Cupid thus he thought:
Woes me, that I must phisick that same elfe,
And am not a phisition for my selfe.
Alas I am that wofull bond you see,
that vnto loues behauiour bydeth still:
No phisick nor phisition makes me free,
vnlesse faire Caltha graunt me her good wil,
For Lady Caltha, she must cure or kill,
Who like the Nettle, left her sting in me:
Worse then the tongue or stinging of a Bee.
But Venus puls his tree downe by the top,
and forth from this, his hollow horned flower
Much of his liquid Meldew there did drop,
that shedded out a pretie hony shower,
Healing her Cupid with it that same houre:
And now her onely care, is how that she
Might be reuenged on Caltha and the Bee.
But Proserpine, the sprowtix of our spring,
and soueraigne gouernesse of Hearb & Plant
That siluer Cynthia this sweet horned thing,
must Venus subtle practise now preuent,
With all her malice and her mad intent.
And loe from forth her shining Orb she goes,
Into this garden, whereas Caltha growes.
Her vestall Virgins and her minions trots,
halling their Lencothea in her waggen,
And brings with the- their goodly garden pots
with water in the waterbearers flaggen:
The droughtie earth bedewing & bedagging,
And on this garden sheds her heuenly shower,
Where water pearls in ple-tie she doth power.
She comes to Caltha to her brodered bed,
and taketh hold vpon her tender stalke:
This done, she layes her hand vpon her head,
and mumbels in her mouth with whisper talk,
And there in circle wise about did walk.
As Tragetors for spirits set their spels,
To coniure vp the Fairies or the Elues.
She bends her branch, and bows it vp & down
and to the heauens she doth exalt her eies:
And with a very feruent prayer doth frown,
looking aloofe vnto the loftie skies:
Somewhile to kneele, and otherwhiles to rise.
Mouing her body with a modest motion,
As holy dames do vse in deepe deuotion.
And from the Center of her soule she sight,
& breathed vpo- the flower a fuming vapour
Where Caltha feels the quickning of a spright,
and riseth vp a comely sweete faire creature,
With cou-tenance and full wel fauored feature:
Her body slender, straight and very euen,
Holding her head erected vp to heauen.
Her golden yealow locks she still retaines,
that hangs along her lilly cheekes and chin:
Whereas the Crimsin Roses comes & staines,
that makes her seeme a perfect sanguynine.
Her eyes like looking glasses Christallin:
Her mouth with full plump forme yframed is,
For why the ful mouth, makes a full sweet kis.
Her brest and nipples round as any Ball,
or like the pleasant Apples of temptation:
That greedie Adam glutted him withall,
and fell in loue with, at the worlds creation:
That brought to vs this wofull desolation.
Alas that bewtie at the first beginning,
Should be too blame, or shent for any sinning.
Her belly like a Globe within his Spheare,
her vains the rules & points & learned lines,
That leads vnto that blessed country, where
much milk & Nectar flows, & plesant wines,
That chears me-s harts & maketh mery minds.
In that same happie land me thinks that I
With all my heart could dwell, & liue and die.
But I must hide all that that nature hides,
my tongue cries truce I may not vtter it:
Although this wanton meriment decides
matters of silence, blame not you my wit,
For readers somtimes, crows with blind me- hit:
My modestie must leaue that thing in doubt,
His hap is somewhat though, that finds it out.
Her thighes like pillars of faire Allablaster,
that do support the body of this Saint:
Where men must kneel the- down & Idolaster
vnto the Image of this Queene so quaynt,
That Caltha she may pittie their complaint,
And heare their happie Orysons and prayer,
When as her priest and people do come there.
Now When Diana this her taske had done,
and framed all the molements of Nature:
She doth adorn this naked Nymph ano-,
couering the seemly corps of this sweet creature:
And first she decks her head, her face & feature
And with a silken hairelace ties her locks,
That hangs like Iasons golden fleece in flocks.
She ties a Necklace vnderneath her chin,
of Iasper, Diamond, and of Topasie:
And with an Emrod hangs she on a Ring,
that keepes iust reckoning of our chastitie:
That breaks when Virgins go to venerie.
And therefore (Ladyes) it behoues you well,
To walke full warily, when stones will tell.
Her vesture and her vaile, was white as snow,
that mantle wise, this maiden did adorne:
And in her hand she held a bended Bowe,
a Bawdrik on her back, and Bugle horne:
With quiuer, and with arrows sharp as thorne,
With buskins buckled vp vnto her knees,
That scarcely reached to her naked theighs.
Now is she made Dianas hunting dame,
and to Eurotas banks, and Cynthias hill,
And vnto Gargaphy must seeke her game,
where she the Roes with Bucks & does must kill:
With pleasure, sport, and pastime at her will.
And haue her springs and fountains fair & feat
To wash her skin from swink of sulty sweat.
And now she takes her leaue of Primula,
and with a sigh she said, farewel sweet sister:
The wofull wench she wept to part away,
and down she fel vpon the ground & kist her,
And to remain a Virgins life she wisht her:
And said, I know mad Venus missing me,
Without all doubt will be reuengd on thee.
And therefore sister Primula liue chaste,
wey not the words the flattering Queen can make
Beware I say, (and then she her imbrac't)
and from her stalke a Dasie she did take,
And on her head she weares it for her sake:
And now with chaste Diana is she gone,
Faire Primula the Dasie left alone.
Now Venus she determines in her mind,
to come and punish Caltha and to kill her:
And flieth down poste, with an Easterne wind,
that brings the Canker & the Caterpiller:
With poyson for to blast her and to spill her:
And sure the silly dame had curst that day,
Had she not gone with chaste Dian away.
But now when Venus saw that she was crost,
and Caltha gone from Lady Primula:
And seeing now her labour all was lost,
she would not haue the Caterpillers stay:
But with the wind she sends them all away.
And now faire Primula in Calthas stead,
Must like and loue, and loose her maidenhead.
Vpon the place & ground where Caltha grew,
a mightie Mandrag there did Uenus plant:
An Obiect for faire Primula to view,
resembling man from thighs vnto the shank:
With leaues & vaines & me-bers ram and rank,
With long large loyns fro- flank vnto the foote,
That in the earth stuck with ragged roote.
His parts of shame like Socrotheus flesh,
swolne without mean, my wanton muse must tuch,
Althogh't be foule & ful of filthinesse:
then blame me not althogh I write thus much:
A loathsome iesting shape he seemd, & such
As modest Primula did stand in doubt,
Whether that she should loath or laugh it out.
As if a maide should see some wanton sight,
you know she claps her hands vpon her eies,
And winketh at it wilde, and blusheth straight,
and tush, and push, & fie for shame she cries:
Yet must she laugh at it in any wise.
And through her fingers looks, with cou-tnance coy,
And tyhie cries, at that same pretie toy.
So at bo peepe this pretie sprowt did play,
sometimes her hed vnto the Mandrag heaues,
And sometimes (half asham'd) would Primula
looke downe againe, and lap her in her leaues:
This lustie wanton bud her wits bereaues.
Thus in the middest of their merry doing,
Away went Venus, leauing them a woing.
And to the Calthean Bees the Queen is gone,
with spungie Paddocks and the foule fusball
For to destroy and smother euery one,
and bring the mightie bumble Bee in thrall,
And harme his hony and his hiue and all:
And chase them from their Cabinets & choak the-
And fro- their holes and hony combs to smoke them.
And suddenly or any of them wist,
comes in a vapour like a roakish Ryme:
And ther the bees amazed with this same mist,
came swarming forth their hiues, for it was time:
And vp aloft into the ayer they climbe.
Some here, som ther, som hither, & som thither,
And beeing blind, they flewe they knew not whether.
The maister Bee into his garden goes,
to clense him from the filth of this same Fus,
And there he thinketh yet that Caltha growes
but thou art now deceiu'd (poor bumble buz)
That flower with faire Dian is gone from vs:
And in her place he spies a Mandrag spring:
And now poore Bee, thy sorrowes do begin.
He voweth now for to forsake his hiue,
and like a Pilgrim spend his latter daies:
(Gods be his speed and send him wel to thriue)
for now he meanes to wander vncoth waies,
And like an Hermit, he himselfe arraies:
That safely he might wander vp and downe,
And seek stra-ge cou-tries far, that be vnknown.
He made himselfe a paire of holy beads,
the fiftie Aues were of Gooseberies:
The Pater Nosters and the holy Creeds,
were made of red & goodly fair ripe cheries:
Blessing his Marygold with Aue-maries.
And on a staffe made of a Fennell stalk,
The beadrowlehangs, whilest he alo-g did walk.
And with the flower mu-kshood makes a coole
and of a gray Dock got himselfe a gowne:
And looking like a Fox or holy foole,
he barbs his litle beard, and shaues his crown,
And in his pilgrimage goes vp & downe.
And with a Wabret leafe he made a wallet,
With scrip to beg his crums & pike his sallet.
For here me now, since that vnhappie houre
that loue was stung (you know) not lo-g agone,
He neuer hony got from any flower,
but did become a drowsie heauie drone,
Slothfull and careles in his hony combe:
And there the idle droane Bee he doth eate,
The sweetnesse that is got by others sweate.
And by the way, for sweete saint Charitie,
he begs his largies of th' outlandish Hiues:
Where hauing had their liberalitie,
they se-d him packing & the Droanbee driues
To beg and liue amongst the idle liues:
And farre and neare, further then I can tell,
He goes whereas the ougly Hornets dwell.
He passed throgh Appuleia, mongst the flyes,
and to that country where the scorpions are:
And to a kingdome of Cantaradyes,
whereas the Gnats and biting gadflies were,
That feard, the bumblebee from biding there.
But with his bag and baggage is he gone,
Wa-dring the world in vncoths far vnknowne.
At length he lights on famous Ephesus,
where chaste Diana and her vestals bee,
And now full wearie flies to Platanus,
an aged and an auncient hollow tree,
Where he must rest a while (poor fainting flee)
Precisely looking least the spider webs
Were lurking there to catch him by the legs.
Now hauing got his sleepe and quiet rest,
his morning Mattins doth he buz and sing:
And being rowsed from his sluggish nest,
with lauds and Letanies aloft did fling,
And flieth now abroad with burgond wing,
And saieth his Psalmists in his sursurare,
With Pater Noster, and with Auie Marie.
And whilest this runnagate about did roue,
it hapned that by chance he did repaire,
Vnto a gladsome and a goodly Groue,
whereas Diana and her vestals were,
And Caltha too (vnknowne to him) was there
Where all the traine assembled in that place,
For to attend and guard Dianas grace.
Some sits the- down & gathereth green bushes
and others very busie do begin:
To weaue their litle baskets of Bulrushes,
to put their hearbs & all their flowers in:
Least that they scatter them in gathering,
An other daintily her selfe doth deck,
With garlands for to weare about her neck.
Som makes their sprints & pitfals for the thrush
and very busie round about they stird:
An other lasse she comes and beats the bush,
and by your leaue, an other takes the bird:
And sport alone, for Lady and for Lord.
And in a Cage that he must learne to sing,
But soft and faire, not till the next year spring.
There Lady Caltha in her lap she holds,
and had her skirt her Apron full and all,
Of double Dasies and of Marygolds,
and there she pins and pricks the- on her Call:
(Now fine and feate and faire might she befal)
For on her locks the flowers stick and stay,
Euen for her selfes sake, and faire Primula.
The Bee no sooner spies these Marygolds,
but to the yealow flowers he is fled:
And lights vpon her locks that lay in rowles,
buzing & huzing round about her head:
Till at the length he sits vpon her shead.
But there faire Caltha would not let him stay,
For with a bush, she beats the Bee away.
Yet from the Marygolds he would not flie,
nor from her presence will he so depart:
Although by them first came his miserie,
and whylom wounded was vnto the heart,
(As you haue heard of late) throgh Cupids dart.
Yet would he not away, but busie there,
The Bee is buzing round about her eare.
Whereat faire Caltha strikes him to the grou-d,
and hits the Fly full often with her fist:
The bumble Bee would vp againe rebound,
and be vpon her head ere she had wist:
Then would she strike againe, and oft she mist.
Whereat the Ladies they would laugh to see,
What sport there was, twixt Caltha & the Bee.
But as the Fly that with the candle mocks,
and plaies so long til he hath burnt his wings,
So is this Bee entangled in her locks,
and fetterd in these golden yealow strings,
And by the feet he in her trammels hings.
And now the Lady Caltha she doth crie,
Whilest that Diana comes to catch the Flie.
The bird now taken from her golden locks,
faire Caltha is desirous of the Fly,
And takes the Bee, and puts him in a box,
and cals for hony for him presently,
And makes his bed of Roses by and by:
And Marygolds with pillowes of the Dasie,
That he might lie full lither and full lazie.
Whereat Diana, at Lady Caltha laught,
& askt, what she wold do with that same droan
And said y&supere; slothful thing was good for naught,
But for all that, she lets the Bee alone,
And from her box she will not haue him gone:
But there the pretie Fly he takes his rest,
Whilest that she told Diana this same iest.
Good Madam when I grew a garden flower,
Venus and Cupid came to shoote at me:
And the- it chanc't (sweet Lady) at that stower,
I was defended by a litle Bee:
Who blest my branch from his artillerie.
And by good luck and fortune thither came,
To put the cunning Archer from his ayme.
For whilest the Bee was biting of my bloome,
by chance my body vp and downe he stird:
So that the Archer did at randome rome,
and mist my branch and gauld the little bird:
(The bee was in the box & heard that word)
But forwards went they (thinking that the Flie
Had neuer heard this tale, nor bene so nie.)
Now euer since (good Madame) pardon me,
of all the pretie little fooles that flie,
I loue the best the hyued hony bee,
and he shall be my bird, vntill I die:
With all his noyce and humming harmonie.
And let the painted Butterflyes and Flees
Liue where they list, Ile loue the hony Bees.
With that she openeth the litle Coffer,
and shakes a Marygold vnto the Bee:
The Bumble nods his head, & makes an offer,
& come bird com (quoth Caltha) come to me
With so ho ho, and wo ho ho cries she,
And whistled too, and chirped with her lips,
With that the Bee out of his box he skips.
And as the Hawke reclaimed from his nest,
and being full well managed and mand,
He comes and flies to Lady Calthas fist,
and takes the golden pray at her faire hand:
And on the top of this same flower doth stand.
Not offering once to flie from her away,
But subiect to the Ladies lewre doth stay.
This prints a strange impression in her soule,
this Simpathy betwixt her and the Bee:
Did halfe perswade her, that this was the foule,
and absolutely said, this is the Flee,
That saued my flower when Cupid shot at mee.
This said, Diana sware, that she would try,
And through her sacred art, transform the Fly.
Now doth she frame her metamorphosin,
And with her blessed bookes of diuination,
She commeth to transforme and coniure him,
And strangely workes his transumtation,
Casting her iust count of his constellation:
And suddenly the bumble Bee as than,
Did take the shape and very forme of Man.
All sauing that betwixt his legs and thies,
his secrets were not seene at all, but gone:
The wanton dames could spie no priuities,
For in that place where shuld be one was none:
That thing was lost when he became a Drone:
For since it stung and stuck in Cupids cheekes,
He mist it in his buttocks and his breekes:
At this same foule defect (quoth faire Dian)
throughout the world it neuer shall be said:
That I haue framd a monster of a man,
but alwaies I a perfect creature made:
And once againe she tries her charming trade
And cast this new shapte man into a slumber,
Whilest she had wrought this rare & mightie wonder.
From forth the Hawthorne hedge she plucks a thorne,
and works and makes his picture all of wax:
And as a child that must be newly borne,
she pricks the hawthorn wher his secrets laks,
And in that place appeares his priuie knacks:
And fro- his sleep throgh wisards strange eue-ts,
He riseth vp with all his implements.
Now Caltha comes to him, and she must know
if this same new made ma- wer that same bee:
Or this same busie Bumble yea or no,
that sat vpon her yealow golden tree,
When Cupid shot at her with venerie:
And chargd and dischargd at him with a smile,
Till he the truth had told to her the while.
I was quoth he the very selfesame Fly,
that sometimes sat vpon thy yealow lock:
I tell thee faire sweet Caltha it was I,
that gathered hony on thy stem and stock,
When Cupld at my very hartstrings shot,
I was the Fly for whom false Venus set,
Her spyders for to traine me in a net.
I was that Bumble, who for thy sweete sake,
like to a theefe was tied and bound in band:
And me a captiue prisoner did she make,
Where I by chance escapte fro- Cupids hand.
And by good luck am com'd into this land,
And lost my Bees, not one of them aliue,
And I my selfe here driuen from my hiue.
Now Caltha doth enquire for Primula,
the man made answer, that she florisht faire:
And in the foresaid Garden she did stay,
but in the roome (good madam) where you were
A mandrag hath dame Venus planted there:
A filthy obiect for faire Primula,
And there the monster of all flowers doth stay.
But here Diana comes and breaks their talk,
and takes the man aside and goeth her waies:
And now the whilest that she and he did walk,
she asked him, & gently to him sayes,
What pleasure couldst thou wish to passe thy daies?
Ask what thou wilt, demand & thou shalt see,
It shall be surely granted vnto thee.
Then madam (said he) when I was a Bee,
I spe-t my dayes amo-gst the flowers springing
And merie made me with my melody,
with buzing and with huzing alwaies singing,
Whilest to my Bees, my hony I was bringing.
So that I still retaine in disposition,
And much would giue, to be a good musition.
And now Diana doth present the man,
with learned Lutes, & finest Virginals:
With deepe Bandoras Diapasan,
and with the cleare well sounding Clarigals,
With subtle Sagbut, and the loud Cimbals,
And with that best beloued lulling Lyer,
With other wanton Instruments of wyer.
The Kingly Harp, for and the courtly Cithere-,
the Solace, Vyols, and the Vyolins:
The litle fidling Kit, and ancient Gittern,
with those same faire and famous Orpherins,
With Bagpipes, Cornets, and the Cymphanins.
And now no more ycleape him bumble Buz,
But call him by the name of Musæus.
Now Musæus is maister of that Art,
and onely rare musitian in that land:
Who cunningly can play his pricksong part,
with ready Aroake, & nimble learned hand,
With sweet deuision of profound deskand:
His discords with true concords to agree,
Which oft is seene in Musiques subtletee.
In Tablatury doth he take much paine,
and by his learned line his rule and rod:
He pricks downe quauers in his pleasant vaine,
and merily he driues a minim od,
Which maketh musicke for the mightie God.
With cratchets, Semibriefs, with large & lo-gs,
That closeth vpsweet ends in all our songs.
Long liued he amongst these louely lasses,
and was their chief delight & onely treasure:
And taught y&supere; dames to da-ce their cinquepace,
and for to foot & tread their solemn measure,
And long he sported with them at his pleasure,
Till Caltha she desirous on a day,
Must needs send to her sister Primula.
And now the good Musæus he must go,
and vnto her present his minstralcy,
And this musition he must let her know,
her sister Caltha greets her louingly:
With commendation of kind curtesie.
And sends a Tutty in her hand to hold,
Of double Dasies and the Marygold.
And now he takes his leaue and Caltha kist,
and ties a base bumfiddle at his back:
That hangs vpon a bawdrick of blew list,
much like vnto a paltry Pedlers pack,
That sags vpon his shoulders till they crack:
That made the little fidling fellow hutch,
As he had gone his crookback with a crutch.
His bagpipes at his girdle you might see,
forth of his bag put out his drone or base:
That bu-d like him which was the humble Bee,
and there they lay within a leather case:
To keep them in their tune, and in their grace.
And vnderneath his armeholes & his elbowes
He had his blasts, his surflats & his bellowes.
And all the way whereas Musæus comes,
he begs his bread with his sweet melody:
And pipes and plaies and fidles for his crums,
and is rewarded for his harmony.
In euery countrey, and in euery Citie,
Till that he came to famous Nycol Towne,
Wherein full wearie sits the fidler downe.
And rests him that same night (for it was late)
till morne when he vnto the Garden comes:
And raps apace and knocketh at the gate,
and to the doore the litle Cupid comes,
And spies the fidlers base, and bagpipe bums:
And vnto Venus said her litle Ape,
A fidler mother, yonders at the gate.
The mother now, as wanton as the boy,
runs to the garden doore and welcomes him:
And glad with all her heart, she laughs for ioy,
and brings the piper and the fidler in:
And now the feast must hold and needs begin.
Musæus comes vnto the nuptiall day,
Betwixt the Mandrag, and faire Primula.
The tables they were strewd with strawberies,
with bottles and with flaggons full of wine:
With daintie damse-s & the chopping cheries,
with seates and arbors made with Eglentine,
With wanton Iuie and the twining Vine:
And there do sit a bench of faire Ladies,
Of Linfs & Nymps and these same lightfoote faieries.
At vpper end set Primula the bride,
Minsing demurely, wagging with her head:
The mandrag & the bridsgroome by her side,
that did attend her fairnes whilest she fed,
And gaue her wine & cracknels with cakebred:
And now dame Venus bids Musæus play,
And there was sport alone for that same day.
Now doth he tune and temper all his strings,
and pleaseth these same faire and pretie folk:
And sometimes playes and then Musæus sings,
whilest that the flaggo-s ful of wine do walke,
And now the litle Ladies tongues do talke,
And riseth vp to dance and figs their breeks,
Whilst coral wine doth staine their lilly cheeks.
Thus passed they the day with iolly hed,
till night was come, whe- as each daintie dame
Must get the bride & bridsgroom both to bed,
that they may go about that mery game,
To cause their choller and their courage tame:
And in the night to spend the wanton howers,
To plant and get some other prety flowers.
Of pescods were their boulsters & their pillows
the downbed it was of a faire greene dock:
The sheets they lay vpo-, wer leaues of willows
he in his shert, and she in her fine frock.
And there was playing with her curled lock.
And now ile leaue them in their sweet delight,
And bid the bride & bridsgroome both good night.
Now be the bridemaids in their bony bowers,
and coutcht full closely in the summer Tent:
Within the faire greene arbors and the flowers,
to rest them after this mad meriment,
That all the day in Tomboyes play had spent.
And what they saw by day, y&supere; night they dream
But what it was, that what I cannot mean.
Now Uenus and the craftie fidler goes,
into a close faire arbour for to walke:
Adornd with darnecks of the Damask Rose,
whilest Venus enters into this same talke,
And proudly in her statelinesse doth stalke:
And toong-ripe in her rhetorick doth run,
And to Musæus thus her tale begun.
Musæsus quoth she, I must tell thee here,
within this garden haunts a bumble Bee:
But by the way, ile bind thee for to sweare,
not to reueale, or prate my priuitie:
But silence vse in this my secresie.
And sweares the fidler to his good abearing,
Whilest her faire sweet lips were the bookes of swearing.
Fidler quoth she (so forwards on her tale)
I haue so often plagued this same Bee:
And many times haue made him ill to ayle,
as I am very fearfull of the flee,
That he will come and be reuengd on mee.
And therefore fidler watch me least I slumber,
And so the Bumble come and do me cumber.
The good Musæus answered her grace,
and said (sweet Lady) take no thoght for that,
And forthwith from his crowd or fiddle case,
he cuts a peece of leather as he sat,
And makes a butchers bable or flee-flap.
That if the bu-ble Bee come thither humming,
Musæus sweares, his bable it shall bumme him.
In meane while is he scraping on his crowd,
onely to keepe the wanton Lady waking:
And in the Ela note he fiddles lowd,
whilest that she laugheth at his mery laking:
And much co-mends the mirth y&supere; he is making.
And from her litle finger takes a Ring,
And giues Musæus it, and bids him sing.
The fidler singeth like a Nightingale,
and now his ballad and his song must bee,
Intituled, a Grandam or an old wiues tale,
the coniuring or charming of the Flee,
And here the song ile set you downe to see:
That pretie courtly Ladyes may it keep,
To blesse them fro- the Bumble ere they sleep.

The Charming of the Bee.
Auant from vs false bumble Bee,
in thy busie buzing:
And come not here thou craftie Flee,
harme not in thy huzing.
Fly farre inough prodigious Fowle,
in thy bitter stinging:
Worse then the scrytching ougly Owle,
neuer good luck bringing.
In thy comming or thy bumming,
If thou commest hither humming,
thou false bumble Bee,
In thy swarming and thy harming,
If thou chance within my charming,
Exorciso te.
Beware I say thou litle bird,
of my leather flee flap:
And come not here nor hitherward,
least it reach a sound rap:
For it shall beate thy litle bum,
Here me pretie fellow,
And clap it thriftly if thou come,
harken what I tell you.
In thy comming or thy bumbing,
if thou comest hither humming,
thou false Bumble Bee.
In thy swarming and thy harming,
if thou chance within my charming.
Exorciso te.
In nomine O domine,
defend vs from this Drone:
And charme this hurtfull hony Bee,
to let vs here alone.
A way thou foule and fearefull spright
and thou litle diuel:
I charge thee come not in our sight,
for to do vs euil.
In thy comming or thy bumbing,
if thou comest hither humming,
thou false bumble Bee,
In thy swarming and thy harming,
if thou chance within my charming,
Exorciso te.
Now when Musæus ended had his song,
he turnes to Venus, and in looking back:
He spies the Lady there laid all along,
and now the fidler finds her in a nap,
And layes away his fiddle and flee flap:
And downe he lies, and leanes vpon her hips,
And licorously he kist the Ladies lips.
Now whether that this Lady slept or no,
or winked wild, as little wantons vse:
There will I leaue you, for I do not know,
iudge of it as you list, for you may chuse:
And me I pray you heartily excuse.
But there the fidler found an instrument,
That makes him mirth & much mad merime-t.
And now Musæus playes his Minstrels prise,
the perfect of the more his moode he made:
Bearing what should be hidden, and his eyes
prie wher he thinks most desca-t might be had
Straining beyond Ela, Venus to glad.
And this he found, that musick pleaseth best,
Whose moode by prick, in circle is exprest.
But there I know not how he playd or prickt,
but sure it is, and eertaine too, that she
Forthwith vpon a sudden flung and kickt,
and cryed out, the Bee, the Bee, the Bee:
Help fidler, for the Bumble hath stung me.
Then quoth Musæus all our quarels ends,
And let vs kis good madam, and be friends.
I was the Bee that bit the Marygold,
I was (oh faire Cytherian Queene) that Bee,
Yea that same bumble thou didst plague of old
when thou bad shoot, & Cupid shot at mee,
Now haue I hit the marke and shot at thee.
The scantlin won, the winners must cry whup,
The goale is got, and now the game is vp.
With that the Queene she fals into a lafter,
and scarcely would beleeue this Riddeller:
But in the end as you shall here hereafter,
She knew that it was he that shot at her:
And out of all her doubt did remoue her.
Now was the morning, and the Sun it shone,
And to the Bride and Bridesgroome are they gone.
The bridsgroome he lay lolling in his bed,
and all his leaues he litherly displayes:
The pretie Bride was combing of her head,
to spred and open with the mornings raies,
As is her maner and her vse alwaies.
And fro- the arbors & the fresh green burrows
Comes Uenus & Musæus, with good morrows.
Vnto the Bride Musæus doth present
himselfe, and Calthas commendations:
With that sweet Nosegay which her sister se-t,
and many other gentle salutations,
The which he greeteth her with gratulations:
And Primula she takes the Tutty there,
And sticks it on her yealow golden hayre.
And makes an other prety nosegay too,
and binds her double Dasies altogither:
And Musæus must vnto Caltha go,
and in a water pot (least that they wither)
To Ephesus must carry those same thither:
And bring her newes from Nycol town I say,
Of her faire sister, Lady Primula.
And Venus takes a Iewel from her hat,
which was a yealow golden Cockle shell:
And Musæus must giue faire Caltha that,
and say, the Lady Uenus loues her well:
And more then that this traueller must tell.
That if this garden she will once more take,
She shall be welcome for the fidlers sake.
And now she goes vnto the Woodbine Tree,
and breaks his branch, that long hath bin bee,
And giues it vnto Musæus, that he
may giue it vnto Lady Calthas hand,
To send her Manumissum to this land.
And weare his branch about her, & in wearing,
Wear out the bond fro- this his good abearing.
And thus the faire sweet Lady Primula,
deuotes her selfe to Venus now from vs:
And Caltha, with Diana gone away,
the Bee reuengd in shape of Musæus,
The Bond he hopes to heare from Ephesus.
All quarels ended, and we all cry truce,
Vntill the fidler come to bring more newes.