24
THE MERIE BALLAD
Attird in white velvet or in silke,
And norisht with warme water or with milke,
And often alters pace as wayes growe deepe;
for whoe, in places vynknowne, one pace can keepe?
Sometymes he smothly slippeth downe a hill;
some other tymes, the stones his feete doe kill;
In clayey wayes he treadeth by and by,
[? plasheth]and placeth himself and all that standeth by:
Soe fares this royall rider in his race,
plunging and sowsing forward in like case,
Bedasht, bespotted, and beplotted foule—
god giue thee shame, thou foule mishapen owle!
But free from greife a ladyes chamberleyne,
and canst thou not thy tatling tongue refrayne?
I tell the beardlesse blabb, beware of stripes,
and be advisd what thou soe vainely pipst;
If Illian queene knowe of thy brauery heere,
thou shouldst be whipt with nettles for thie geere.
Saint Dennis sheild me from such femall sprightes!
regard not, dames, what Cupids poett writes:
I pen this story onely for my selfe;
and, giving yt to such an actuall elfe,
Am quite discoraged in my musery,
sinse all my store to her seemes misery.
I am not as was Hercules the stout,
that to the seauenth Iourny could hould out;
I wantes those hearbes and rootes of Indian soyle,
that strengthen weary members in their toyle,
And norisht with warme water or with milke,
And often alters pace as wayes growe deepe;
for whoe, in places vynknowne, one pace can keepe?
Sometymes he smothly slippeth downe a hill;
some other tymes, the stones his feete doe kill;
In clayey wayes he treadeth by and by,
[? plasheth]and placeth himself and all that standeth by:
Soe fares this royall rider in his race,
plunging and sowsing forward in like case,
Bedasht, bespotted, and beplotted foule—
god giue thee shame, thou foule mishapen owle!
But free from greife a ladyes chamberleyne,
and canst thou not thy tatling tongue refrayne?
I tell the beardlesse blabb, beware of stripes,
and be advisd what thou soe vainely pipst;
If Illian queene knowe of thy brauery heere,
thou shouldst be whipt with nettles for thie geere.
Saint Dennis sheild me from such femall sprightes!
regard not, dames, what Cupids poett writes:
I pen this story onely for my selfe;
and, giving yt to such an actuall elfe,
Am quite discoraged in my musery,
sinse all my store to her seemes misery.
I am not as was Hercules the stout,
that to the seauenth Iourny could hould out;
I wantes those hearbes and rootes of Indian soyle,
that strengthen weary members in their toyle,
