L ANOTHER. YES, every poet is a fool, By demonstration Ned can show it. Happy, could Ned's inverted rule ANOTHER. THY nags, the leaneft things alive! I heard thy anxious coach-man say, To a Person who wrote Ill, and spoke Worfe against Me. YE, Philo, untouch'd, on my peaceable shelf; Nor take it amifs, that fo little I heed thee : I've no envy to thee, and fome love to myself: Then why fhould I anfwer; fince first I must read thee? Drunk with Helicon's waters and double-brew'd bub, To the folid delight of thy well-judging club, Purfue Purfue me with fatire: what harm is there in 't? On the fame Perfon. WHILE, fafter than his coftive brain indites, Philo's quick hand in flowing letters writes : His cafe appears to me like honest Teague's,. FOR May spoil what you to-night propose: England may change; or Cloe ftray: Love and life are for to-day. A BALLAD of the NOTBROWNE MAYDE. A. BE it ryght, or wrong, these men among on women. do complayne; Affyrmynge this, how that it is a labour spent in vayne, So Frior. To - First printed about 1521, fays Capel To love them wele; for never a dele thy love a maa agayne: For late a man do what he can, theyr favour to attayne, Yet, yf a newe do them pursue, theyr fyrst true lover than Laboureth for nought; for from her thought he is a banyshed man. B. I say nat, nay, but that all day it is bothe writ and fayd, That womens fayth is, as who fayth, all utterly decayed: But, nevertheleffe, ryght good wytnèffe in this cafe. might be layed, That they love true, and continue; recorde the notbrowne mayde; Which, when her love came, her to prove, to her to make his mone, Wolde nat depart; for in her hart he loved but hym alone. A. Than betwayne us late us dyfcus what was all the manère Betwayne them two; we wyll alfo tell all the payne, and fere, That she was in: nowe I begyn, fo that ye me an Wherfore, all ye, that prefent be, I pray you gyve an ere: I am the knyght; I come by nyght, as fecret as I can, Sayinge, Alas, thus ftandeth the cafe, I am a banyshed man. B. And B. And I your wyll for to fulfyll in this wyll nat refuse; Truftynge to fhewe in wordes fewe, that men have an yll use (To theyr own fhame) women to blame, and caufeleffe them accufe: Therfore to you I anfwere nowe, all women to ex Myne owne hart dere, with you what chere? I pray you, tell anone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. A. It ftandeth fo; a dede is do, whereof grete harme shall growe: My destiny is for to dy a fhamefull deth, I trowe; Or elles to fle: the one must be; none other way I knowe, But to withdrawe as an outlawe, and take me to my bowe. Wherfore, adue, my owne hart true! none other rede I can; For I must to the grene wode go, alone, a banyfhed man. B. O Lorde, what is this worldys blyffe, that chaungeth as the mone! The fomers day in lufty May is derked before the none. I here you fay, farewell; Nay, nay, we départ not fo fone: Why fay ye fo? wheder wyll ye go? alas, what have ye done? All my welfare to forowe and care fholde chaunge, yf ye were gone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but yɔu alone. A. I can beleve, it fhall you greve, and fomwhat you dystrayne: But, aftyrwarde, your paynes harde within a day or twayne Shall fone aflake; and ye shall take comfort to you agayne. Why fholde ye ought? for, to make thought, your labour were in vayne.. And thus I do; and pray you to, as hartely as I can ; For I muft to the grene wode go, alone, a banyshed man. B. Now, fyth that ye have shewed to me the fecret of your mynde, I fhall be playne to you agayne, lyke as ye fhall me fynde : Syth it is fo that ye wyll go, I wolle not leve be hynde; Shall it never be fayd, the notbrowne mayd was to her love unkynde : Make |