Eglogs, Epytaphes, & Sonettes, 1563; Three Copies Only at Present Known (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1871 Excerpt: ...Fortunes wheale, He had a Page, Valerius named, whom so muche he dyd truste, That all the secrets of his Hart, to hym declare he muste. And made hym all the onely meanes, to fue for his redresse, And to entreate for grace to her, that caused his distresse. She whan as fyrst she saw his page was strayght with hym in Loue, That nothynge could Valerius face, from Claudias mynde remoue. By hym was Faujlus often harde, by hym his futes toke place, By hym he often dyd aspyre, to se his Ladyes face. This passed well, tyll at the length, Valerius fore dyd sewe, With many teares besechynge her, his Maysters gryefe to rewe. And tolde her that yf she wolde not release, his Maysters payne, He neuer wolde attempte her more, nor se her ones agayne. She then with mased countnaunce there and teares yat gushing sell, Astonyed answerde thus, loe nowe, alas I se to well. Howe longe I haue deceyued ben, by the Valerius heare, I neuer yet beleued before, nor tyll this tyme dyd seare, That thou dydste for thy Mayster fue but onely for my sake. And for my fyght, I euer thought, thou dydsle thy trauayle take. But nowe I se the contrarye, thou nothynge carste tor me, Synce fyrst thou knewste, the fyerye flames that I haue selte by the. 0 Lorde howe yll, thou doste requyte that I for the haue done, 1 curse the time, that frendshyp fyrst, to showe, I haue begon. O lorde I the beseche let me, in tyme reuenged be: And let hym knowe that he hate fynd, in this mifufynge me, I can not thynke, but Fortune once, (hall the rewarde for all, And vengeaunce due for thy deserts, in tyme shall on the fall. And tell thy maister Faujlus nowe, yf he wolde haue me lyue: That neuer more he fewe to me, this aunswere laste I gyue: And thou o Traytour vyle, and enmye to my lyse, Absent thy selse from out...