To the worſhipfull and right vertuous yong Gentylman, George Mainwaring Eſquier: Is. W. wiſſheth happye health with good ſuccſeſſe in all his godly affayres.

When I (good M. Mainwaring) had made this ſimple Noſegaye: I was in minde to beſtow the ſame on ſom dere frind, of which number I have good occaſion to accompt you chiefe: But waying with my ſelfe, that although the Flowers bound in the ſame were good: yet ſo little of my labour was in them that they were not (as I wyſht they ſhould) to bee exteemed as recompence for the leaſt of a great number of benefits, which I have frōom time to time (even from our Childhood hitherto) receaved of you: yet leaſt by me, you might be occaſiōonned to ſay, as Antipater ſaid damaged2 letters Demades of Athens, that he ſhould never damaged3 letters him with geveing, I woulde to ſhew my ſelfe ſatiſfied, gratifye your Guifts, and alſo by the ſame, make a confeſſion: that by deedes you have deſerved benefits: which as Diogenes A.ijii. ſaith) A4v ſaith) is more worth then the geving or unworthy receaving of many: But ceaſing to ſeeke by benefits (which to do is not alotted me) to accquit your curteſies, I come to preſēent you like the pore man which having no goods, came with his hands full of water to meete the Perſian Prince withal, who reſpecting the good wyll of the man: did not diſdayne his ſimple Guift: even ſo, I being willinge to beſtow ſome Preſent on you, by the ſame thinking to make part of amendes for the much that you have merited, to perfourme the dutie of a friend, to expreſſe the good wyll that ſhould reſt in Countrie folke, & not havyng of mine owne to diſcharg that I go about (like to that poore Fellow which wente into an others ground for his water) did ſtep into an others garden for theſe Flowers: which I beſeech you (as Darius did,) to accepte: and though they be of an others growing, yet conſidering they be of my owne gathering and makeing, doe reſpect my labour and regard my good wil, and not onely receave them, but vouchſave to be a protector of them from the ſpightful, which (perhaps) wil envone to two charactersdamaged that I either preſented you, or gathered them, before they had done one, or both: and ſo might ſpoyle the Noſegay, and not to let it come ſo happili unto your handes, as I wiſh it mai. And though the Garden of your godly mind be full fraught with vertuous Flowers, which I know A5r know in your infancie to take roote, and which all may ſee now to floriſh, with an undoubted hope of their yeelding fruite hereafter: yet ordaine to ſmell to theſe, and when you come into a peſtilent aire that might infect your ſound minde: yet favour to theſe slips in which I truſt you ſhall finde ſafety: And yf you take pleaſure in them, I ſhal not only be occaſioned to endevour my ſelfe to make a further viage for a more dayntier thing (then Flowers are) to preſent you withall: but alſo have good hope that you wil accept this my labour, for recompence of al that which you are unrecompenced for, as knoweth god: who I beſeeche geve unto you a longe and a lucky lyfe with increaſe of all your vertuous ſtudies.

From Abchurch Lane, the 1573-10-1010. of October. 1573. By your welwillyng Countriwoman.

Is.Isabella W.Whitney

A.v. ¶To A5v

The Auctor to the Reader.

This Harveſt tyme, I Harveſtleſſe,

and ſerviceleſſe alſo:

And subject unto ſickneſſe, that

abrode I could not go.

Had leaſure good, (though learning lackt)

ſome ſtudy to apply:

To reade ſuch Bookes, wherby I thought

my ſelfe to edyfye.

Somtime the Scriptures I peruſd,

but wantyng a Devine:

For to reſolve mee in ſuch doubts,

as paſt this head of mine

To underſtand: I layd them by,

and Hiſtories gan read:

Wherin I found that follyes earſt,

in people did exceede.

The which I ſee doth not decreaſe,

in this our preſent time

More pittie it is we folow them,

in every wicked crime.

I ſtraight wart wery of thoſe Bookes,

and many other more,

As Virgill, Ovid, Mantuan,

which many wonders damaged3 letterse.

And to refreſh my madamaged3 letters muſe,

and cheare my brused brayne:

And for to trye if that my limmes.

had got their ſtrength agayne

I walked A6r

I walked out: but ſodenly

a friend of mine mee met:

And ſayd, if you regard your health:

out of this Lane you get.

And ſhift you to ſome better aire,

for feare to be infect:

With noyſome ſmell and ſavours yll,

I wyſh you that reſpect.

And have regard unto your health,

or els perhaps you may:

So make a dye, and then adieu,

your wofull friends may say.

I thankt him for his carefulnes,

and this for anſwer gave:

I’le neither ſhun, nor ſeeke for death,

yet oft the ſame I crave.

By reaſon of my luckleſſe lyfe,

beleeve me this is true:

In that (ſayd he) you doo a miſſe,

than bad he mee adieu.

For he was haſtyng out of Towne,

and could no longer byde:

And I went home, all ſole alone,

good Fortune was my guyde.

And though ſhe never hath denyde,

to hoyce mee on her Wheele:

Yet now ſhe ſtood me in ſome ſtede,

and made mee pleaſures feele.

For ſhe to Plat his Plot mee brought,

where fragrant Flowers abound:

They A6v

The ſmell whereof prevents ech harme,

if yet your ſelfe be found.

Amongſt thoſe Beds ſo bravely deckt,

with every goodly Flower:

And Bankes and Borders finely framde,

I mee repoſde one howre.

And longer wolde, but leaſure lackt,

and buſineſſe bad mee hye:

And come agayne ſome other time,

to fill my gaſing eye.

Though loth: yet at the laſt I went,

but ere I parted thence:

A ſlip I tooke to ſmell unto,

which might be my defence.

In ſtynking ſtreetes, or lothſome Lanes

which els might mee infect:

And ſence that time, I ech day once

have viewd that brave proſpect.

And though the Maſter of the ſame,

I yet dyd never ſee:

It ſeemes he is a Gentylman,

and full of courteſeye:

For none that with good zeale doth come,

doo any one reſiſt:

And ſuch as wyll with order get,

may gather wilſt they liſt.

Then pyttie were it to deſtroy,

what he with payne did plant.

The moderate heere may be suffizde,

and he no whit ſhall want.

And A7r

And for my part, I may be bolde,

to come when as I wyll:

Yea, and to chuſe of all his Flowers,

which may my fancy fill.

And now I have a Noſegay got,

that would be paſſing rare:

Yf that to ſort the ſame aright,

weare lotted to my ſhare.

But in a bundle as they bee,

(good Reader them accept:

It is the gever: not the guift,

thou oughteſt to reſpect,

And for thy health, not for thy eye,

did I this Poſye frame:

Becauſe my ſelfe did ſafety finde,

by ſmelling to the ſame.

But as we are not all alyke,

nor of complexion one:

So that which helpeth ſome we ſee,

to others good doth none.

I doo not ſay, it dyd mee help,

I no infection felt:

But ſure I think they kept mée free,

becauſe to them I ſmelt.

And for becauſe I lyke them well,

and good have found therby:

I for good wyll, doo geve them thée,

fyrſt taſt and after trye.

But yf thy mind infected be,

then theſe wyll not prevayle:

Syr A7v

Sir Medicus with ſtronger Earbes,

thy malladye muſt quayle.

For theſe be but to keepe thee ſound,

which if thou uſe them well:

(Paynes of my lyfe) in healthy ſtate

thy mind ſhall ever dwell.

Or if that thy complexion,

with them doo not agree:

Refer them to ſome friend of thine,

tyll thou their vertue ſee.

And this I pray thee, whether thou

infected waſt afore:

Or whether with thy nature ſtrong,

they can agree no more.

That thou my Noſegay not miſuſe,

but leave it to the reſt:

A number may ſuch pleaſure finde,

to beare it in their breſt.

And if thy ſelfe wolde gather more,

then I have herein bound:

My counſell is that thou repayre,

To Maſter Plat his ground.

And gather there what I dyd not,

perhaps thy ſelfe may light:

On thoſe which for the fitter are,

then them which I resighte.

Which if thou doo, then render thanks,

to him which ſowed the ſoyle:

If not, thou nedes muſt him commend,

when as thou viewſt his toyle.

In A8r

In any wiſe, be chary that

thou letteſt in no Swine:

No Dog to ſcrape, nor beaſt that doth

to ravin ſtyll inclyne.

For though he make no ſpare of them,

to ſuch as have good ſkyll:

To ſlip, to shere, or get in time,

and not his braunches kyll:

Yet barres he out, ſuch gréedy guts,

as come with ſpite to toote.

And without ſkill, both Earb & Flower

pluck raſhly by the roote.

So wiſhing thee, to finde ſuch flowers,

as may thee comfort bring:

And eke that he which framd the Plot,

with vertues ſtyll may ſpring.

I thee commend to mighty Jove,

and thus I thée aſſure:

My Noſegay wyll increaſe no payne,

though ſicknes none it cure.

Wherfore, if thou it hap to weare

and feele thy ſelfe much worſe:

Promote mee for no Sorcereſſe,

nor doe mée ban or curſe.

For this I ſay the Flowers are good,

which I on thee beſtow:

As thoſe which weare them to the ſtalkes,

ſhall by the ſequell know.

One A8v

One word, and then adieu to thee,

yf thou to Plat his Plot

Repayre: take héede it is a Maze

to warne thée I forgot.

Finis. quod Is.Isabella W.Whitney

T. B. in commendation of the Authour.

Marching among the woods of fine delighte

Where as the Laurell branch doth bring increaſe

See loe, of Ladies freſh, a ſolem ſight:

I viewd, whoſe walkes betokened all their eaſe:

And how in friendly wiſe, it did them pleaſe:

While ſome did twiſt the Silke of lively hewe

Some others ſlipt the Braunch for prayſes dew.

Nor muſing did not reſt, nor ſcorne my ſight,

nor preſt in haſte to breake their ſilence I

But as at firſt, they held their whole delight:

and caſting mirth, ſaid Friend that paſſeſt by:

did never wrethes of love thee binde perdy

As thus: who framde her Plot in Garlands wiſe

So orderly, as beſt ſhe might deviſe.

Not B1r

Not yet (quoth I,) but you might force the ſame

whoſe face doth ſtaine the colour red as Roſe:

No Virgill this, nor Ovid eke may blam,

For Beautie preſſing as the Cunduit floes,

Was cauſe that Paris greateſt loves aroſe:

who lov’d before, though never touched ſoe,

As Ovid ſhowes, with many writers moe.

But Ladies ſure, my love conſiſtes in this

my whole delight, and pleaſure all I take

To decke the wight, that worthie praiſes is:

and ſure my great good wyll muſt never ſlake

From Whitney: loe, herein ſome partie take

For in her worke is plainly to be ſeène,

Why Ladies place in Garlands Laurell greene.

She flattering Fate too much, nor ſkies doth truſt:

ſuche labor lîeth finisht with the lyfe:

She never did accompt Dame Fortune juſt,

that toſſeth us with toyes and plunges rife:

But her defieth, as Auctor of her ſtryfe:

She doth not write the brute or force in Armes,

Nor pleaſure takes, to ſing of others harmes,

But muſtred hath, and wrapped in a packe

a heape of Flowers of Philoſophie:

No braunche of perfect wiſdome here doth lacke,

But that the bruſed mynde, refresht may bee,

B.i. And B1v

And that it is no fable, you ſhall ſee:

For here at large the ſequell will declare

To Cuntrey warde, her love and friendly care.

The ſmelling Flowers of an Arbor ſweete,

An Orcharde pickt, preſented is to thee:

And for her ſeconde worke, ſhe thought it meete,

ſithe Maides with loftie ſtile may not agree:

In hoape hereby, ſomthynge to pleaſure thee,

And when her buſie care from head ſhall lurke,

She practize will, and promiſe longer worke.

Now happie Dames, if good deſerveth well,

her praiſe for Flowers philoſophicall:

And let your Branches twyned that excell

her head adorne: wherin ſhe flooriſh ſhall:

And berrie ſo, reſtes alwaies at your call,

The purple blew, the red, the white I have,

To wrappe amyd your Garlands freſh & brave.

Finis. Tho. Bir.

¶A ſweete B2r

A ſweet Noſgay, Or pleaſant Poſye: contayning a hundred and ten Phyloſophicall Flowers, &c.

The I. flower.

Such freendes as have ben abſent long

more joyful be at meeting

Then thoſe which ever presēent are

and dayly have their greetyng.

The II

When peryls they are preſent, then

doth abſence keepe thee free:

Whereas, if that thou preſent werte

might dangers light on thee.

The III.

The preſence of the mynd muſt be

preferd, if we do well:

Above the bodyes preſence; for

it farre doth it excell.

B.ii. The B2v


Yet abſēence, ſōomtimes bringeth harme,

when Freends but fickle are:

For new acquaintāance purchaſe place

and old doo loſe their ſhare.

The V.

What profit things that we poſſes

doo by their preſence bring

We can not know: til by their lacke,

we feele what harmes do ſpring.

The. VI.

For to abound in every thing,

and not their uſe to know:

It is a pinching penury:

wherfore, thy goods, beſtow.

The VII.

A ſaying olde, once out of ſight,

and alſo out of minde:

Theſe contraries, that abſent frends

much joy at meeting finde.


Well yet, for the Antiquitie,

it grew amongſt the reſt:

And true it proves, by thoſe whoſe minds

Oblivion hath poſſeſt.

The B3r

The IX.

Care not how mani things thou haſt

but have a great regarde:

That they be good, for quantytie,

doth merite no rewarde.

The X.

Yet ſo thou muſt increaſe thy ſtock

as cleare thine owne it be:

And neither fleece thy friend, nor ſeke

thy neighbours beggerye.

The XI

We eaſely may abuſe the great

and chiefeſt thing of all:

But hard it is to uſe a right,

ſuch as are trifles ſmall.

The 12.

Our eares we muſt not ever ope,

to each mans accuſation:

Nor without tryall, truſt too much,

to any ones perſwation.

The 13.

A fault right greater ſeemeth far,

on the accuſers part:

Then it on the Defendants doth

much more ſhould be his ſmart.

B.iii. ¶The B3v

The 14.

Thy friends admonyſh ſecretly,

of crimes to which they ſwarve:

But prayſe them openly, if ſo be,

their deeds do prayſe deſarve.

The 15.

In every check, uſe ſome faire ſpeach

for words do ſooner pearce

That playnly paſſe, then thoſe which thou

with rughneſſe might reherſe.

The 16.

Admoniſht be with willingneſſe,

and paciently abyde

A reprehenſion, for ſuch faults,

as friends in thee have ſpide.

The 17.

Thoſe precepts which in youthfull yeares

are printed in thy breſt:

Wyll deepeſt dive, and do more good

then ever ſhall the reſt.

The 18.

You muſt not ſuffer youth to raing

nor ſtray abrode at wyll:

For libertye doth lewdneſſe breed,

wherfore prevent that yll.

¶The B4r

The 19.

The vigor of our youth, no whit

doth differ from the Flower:

Which for a time doth floriſh fayre,

and quickly loſe his power.

The 20.

Whilſt thou art yong, remember that

thyne Age approcheth faſt:

And folow thou the ſteps of ſuch,

whoſe lyfe doth ever laſt.

The 21.

In youth to thee ſuch learning get

as it may make thee wiſe:

So people ſhall in elder yeares,

come ſeeke thy ſage adviſe.

The 22.

The inclinations of our youth,

deſyres that thence doth ſpring:

Foreſhew what fruict in future tyme

our ripened age wyll bring.

The 23.

No hope of goodneſſe can be had

of hym, who ſpends his prime,

In living ſo lycentious,

that he reſpects no crime.

B.iiii. ¶The B4v

The 24.

That mind which ſenſual appetites

in youth doth blyndly guyd:

To Age do bodyes yeld deformde,

becauſe they wandred wyde.

The 25.

How vaine it is for crooked Age

his youth for to requyre:

So iſt for youth that childiſh yeares

would willingly deſire.

The 26.

Olde people deeme them nearer death

then those that youthfull ſeeme

But youth is proaner to his end,

and leſſe doth lyfe eſteeme,

The 27.

Great cruelty it is for us,

to use a churlyſh check

To any, when adverſitie,

hath brought them to a wreck.

The 28.

None in adverſitie hath help,

except they proſpered have

And by that menes have purchaſt frends

of whom they ayde may crave.

¶The B5r

The 29.

If miſerie thou wouldeſt not know,

live dangerleſſe thou muſt

Or els to taſte of troubles great

thou ſhalt, though thou wert juſt.

The 30.

Proſperitie wyll get thee friends,

but povertie wyll crie

For then, except they faythfull are

apace from thee they flye.

The 31.

Tis better with the truth offend,

then pleaſe with flatteryng words

For truth at lēength ſhal kepe thee ſafe

when tother cuttes lyke ſwords.

The 32.

To all men be thou liberall,

but uſe to flatter none,

Nor be familyer but with few

which nomber make but one.

The 33.

A fawning frende wyll at the length

a frowning foe approve

The hate of ſuch is better ſure,

then their deceatefull love.

B.v. ¶The B5v

The 34.

She that is an Adultereſſe

of evylles is a ſea:

Her wickedneſſe conſumes her ſelfe

and huſband doth decay.

The 35.

Men doo by emulation,

of others, prove the ſame

In every yll as cuſtome is,

ſo commonly we frame.

The 36.

Thoſe ſtrokes which mates in mirth do geve

do ſeeme to be but light:

Although ſomtyme, they leve a ſigne

ſeemes grevous to the ſight.

The 37.

All men thou ſhalt thine equal make

if thou ſuch playneſſe uſe

As thou not feareſt, nor yet art feard,

nor art, nor doeſt abuſe.

The 38.

Whylſt haires are hidden craftely

Age doth himſelfe bewray:

For wyll we, nyl we, h’eele appeare,

when youth is chaſte away.

¶The B6r

The 39.

Children are lykened to the ſpring

and Stripplings to the Sommer.

And yongmēen, thet ar Autumpne like

and olde men wery winter.

The 40.

Have thou acceſſe alwayes to ſuch

let ſuch reſort to thee:

As temper all their talk with truth,

and are from envie free.

The 41.

When Bretheren be at varience,

how ſhould the enemyes gree?

When frends fall out among them: selves

who ſhal their dais men be?

The 42.

A friendly mind, accoumpt it for

the neereſt of thy kyn:

When al ſhal fayle, it ſticks to thee,

what ever chaunce hath byn.

The 43.

Affection is of force ſo ſtronge,

that other qualities:

He deemeth to be lyke himſelfe,

and doth no worſe ſurmiſe.

¶The B6v

The. 44.

Let thine affections ruled be,

leaſt that they do thee rule:

For then no ſtrength wil thee availe

nor back canſt thou recule.

The. 45.

The ſorowfull do think it death,

to linger in this lyfe:

And wiſh to be deſolv’d therof,

therby to ſtint their ſtryfe.

The. 6446.

What ſ’ere it bee that doubtful is,

grauntes health th’aflicted tyll:

He utterly denyes that he,

to health reſtore him wyll.

The. 47.

The Plowman is accompted ſmal

his reputation none:

Yet of the members in a Realme

of chiefeſt he is one:

The. 48.

☞At dice playing, he that excelles

and counningſtly can play:

In my conceat, for wickednes,

may beare the price away.

¶The B7r

The. 49.

Preaſe not too hie, but have regarde

yf thou ſhould chaunce to fall:

From hie might kyl, frōom mean might hurt

alow ſtand ſure thou ſhall.

The. 50.

The man that is ambicious,

doth loſe ſuch honour oft:

As he hath got, whēen Fortune pleaſd.

to ſet him up aloft:

The. 51.

When Potentats ambicious are,

the poore men, they are wrackt,

When Realmes devide within them ſelves

no cities are unſackt.

The. 52.

He that is voyd of any friend,

him company to keepe:

Walkes in a world of wylderneſſe,

full fraught with dangers deepe.

The. 53.

Judge of a friend ere friendſhip be

but when thou haſt him tryde:

Then maiſt thou truſt,; eke beleeve

as thou his doyngs ſpyde.

¶The B7v

The 54.

The falt which in thy frend, thou ſeemſt

to ſuffer, or permit:

Thou gilty art, therof thy ſelfe,

not puniſhing of it.

The 55.

So oft as faithfull friends depart

ſo oft to dye they ſeeme:

To ſeperate, the griefe is great,

but abſence is extreeme.

The 56.

☞Accompt ſo ever of thy friend,

As he thy foe may frame

So beare thee, that in enmytie,

he thee procure no ſhame.

The 57.

To all men uſe thou equytye,

ſhow faith unto thy friende

In every thyng that thou pretendſt,

do ſtyll reſpect the ende.

The 58.

By benefits unto thy friende,

ſhow thyne abilytie:

And that thy foes may know the ſame

thine Injuryes let flye.

¶The B8r

The 59.

Al things with frends in cōommon are

at leaſt it ſhould be ſo

That pleaſures might imparted bee

ſo like wiſe grief, or woe.

The 60.

The poore, they have no frends at al

for to participate,

The ſorow and the griefe they finde

in their moſt wretched ſtate.

The 61.

In loving, ech one hath free choyce,

or ever they begin,

But in their power it lyeth not,

to end when they are in.

The 62.

The angry lover flattereth

himſelfe with many lyes:

And fondly feedeth on ſuch toyes

as fancy doth deviſe.

The 63.

Ech lover knoweth what he lykes

and what he doth deſire,

But ſeld, or never doth he know,

what thing he ſhould require.

¶The B8v

The .64.

In time, may love, by peecemeale weare

and wither cleane away:

But preſently to pluck his rootes,

in vayne you do aſſay.

The .65.

The lovers teres, wil ſoone appeaſe

his Ladyes angry moode:

But men will not be pacified,

if Wemen weepe a flood.

The .66.

As Poets fayne, the Gods thēemſelves

in love could uſe no wyt:

Then mortall men may be allowde,

ſuch follyes to commit.

The 67.

The yongmen when they are in love

may profit gaine therby:

But in the oulde, it is a fault

for they ſhould love defye.

The 68.

If love have geven thee a blow,

and that thou art unfound,

Make meanes that thou a plaſter have,

of them which gave the wound.

¶The C1r

The 69.

When ſecret love once kindled is,

twill burne with fierceſt flame:

The ſureſt way to be beloved,

is fyrſt to doo the ſame.

The .70.

The lover which doth looke aloft.

and doth ſubmiſſion hate:

Shal have a ſlip, or anſwered be,

that he is come to late.

The .71.

Who ſ’ere thy be, the lawes of love

hath guided for a ſeaſon:

It is a doubt, that never more.

they will be ruld by reaſon.

The 72.

☞The cough it is ſo cumberſome,

that none the ſame can hide:

So love ful fraught with fooliſh toies

may eaſely be eſpyde.

The 73.

The formoſt ſtep to wiſdome is,

from love to keep thee free:

The ſecond for to love ſo cloſe,

that none the ſame may ſee.

C.i. ¶The C1v

The .74.

An olde man when he is in love,

of him this may we deeme:

Of all hard haps and chaunces fel,

he hath the moſt extreeme.

The .75.

The love of wicked persons muſt,

be got by wicked meanes:

Make thine accompt, when thou haſt done

and geve the devil the gaines.

The .76.

Affection fond deceaves the wiſe

and love mase men ſuch noddyes

That to their ſeluuves they ſeeme as dead

yet live in other boddies,

The .77.

A vertuous man, that hath the feare

of God: before his eyes:

Is ſure in ſafetie for to walke,

for all his enemyes.

The .78.

No credit geve, or not to much,

to that which thou doeſt heare,

If that out of a troubled minde

thou ſpyeſt it to appeare.

¶The C2r

The .79.

The bow that ever ſtandeth bent

too far wyll never caſt

The mind which evermore is ſlack,

doth badly prove at laſt.

The .80.

Such minds, as are diſpoſed wel

brings wanderers to the way:

And redy are with helping hand,

to ſuch as go aſtray.

The .81.

Of worldly things, the chiefeſt is

a well contented mind:

That doth diſpiſe for to aſpyre,

nor gapeth gifts to fynde.

The .82.

If thou doeſt yll, it forceth not

what mind thouu ſheweſt therto,

Becauſe thy mind cannot be ſeene,

but that which thou doeſt do.

The .83.

A lothſome ſight, God knowes it is

a fickle mind to ſee:

It ſhuld be pure for to reject,

that vile impuritie.

C.ii. C2v

The .84.

Our yeares & dayes war worſe and worſe

more grevous is our ſorow:

He thats unfyt to mend to day,

wyll worſer be to morow.

The .85.

The preſent dai we cannot ſpend

as we the ſame ſhould do

Except to count it as our laſt,

we frame our ſelves unto.

The .86.

As ours do pleaſe ſome other men,

ſo theirs doo us delight:

Which ſhews our yl cōontented mind

that often works us ſpight.

The .87.

He that with his owne weapon is

diſpatched of his lyfe:

Twice ſlayne he is, becauſe himſelf

was kyld with his owne knyfe.

The .88.

Thoſe promiſes which are forgot,

be not for aye neglect

They may perfourmed be at laſt,

and have their full effect:

¶The C3r

The .89.

A miſerable griefe it is,

by him to have a harme

On whōom we dare not once cōomplaine

nor can our ſelves him charme.

The .90.

Their ſight is weake, that waxeth dim

to ſee another blinde

And very little comfort ſhall,

th’ afflicted by them finde.

The .91.

A pleaſure yll, and profyt none

it is, delight to make,

In th’uſe of any neighbours goods

for which they paynes did take.

The .92.

He is not much deceiv’d, whoſe ſute

full quickly hath denyall

Nor can he ſay, that he had cauſe,

to linger for the tryall.

The .93.

Full hard it is, and hazard great

to keepe for any while:

A thing that ech one luſteth for

for ſome wyll thee beguile.

C.iii. ¶The C3v

The .94.

Do not accompt that for thine owne,

which may from thee be take:

But much exteeme ſuch treſure, as

wyll never thee forſake.

The .95.

The day doth dally ſo with us:

that we can never know:

For, what to wiſh, from what to flie

what workes us weale or woe.

The .96.

He doth not ſoone to ruyne come

that feares it ere it fall:

But may provide it to prevent,

if Fortune graunt he ſhall.

The .97.

Aſk nothing of thy neighbour, that

thou woldſt not let him have:

Nor ſay him nay, of that which thou

woldſt get, if thou didſt crave.

The .98.

If that thonu minded are to geve

aſke not if they wyll have it

For ſo, they eyther muſt denye

or ſeeme that they do crave it.

The C4r

The .99.

It gloryous is, to geve all things

to him that naught doth crave:

So lykewiſe let him nothing get

that every thing would have.

The .100.

Whilſt that thou haſt fre libertie

to do what lykes thee beſt:

Thou ſoone mayeſt ſe into thy ſelfe

what diſpoſytion reſt.

The .1001101.

That Lawyer, which is choſe to plead

for rich & mighty men:

Muſt either let the trueth go by,

or loſe their friendſhip then.

The .1002102.

A little gould in law wyll make,

thy matter better ſpeede:

Then yf thou broughteſt of love as much

as might in kindreds breed.

The .1003103.

Gold ſavours wel though it be got

with occupations vile:

Yf thou haſt gold, thou welcōome art,

though vertue thou exyle.

C.iiii. ¶The C4v

The .1004104.

Such poore folke as to law do goe,

are dryven oft to curſe:

But in meane while, the Lawyer thruſts

the mony in his purſe.

The 1005105.

A haſty tonge, which runs at large

not knowing any meaſure,

It is a wicked thing that makes

the minde repent at leaſure.

The .1006106.

Two eyes, two ears, & but one tong

Dame nature hath us framed

That we might ſe, and heare much more

thēen ſhuld with tōong be named.

The .1007107.

Kepe wel thy tong, & kepe thi frind

yll uſde, it cauſeth foes

In uttryng things, commit to thee

thou faithfull friends doeſt loſe.

The .1008108.

Seke not ech man to pleſe, for that

is more then & God bids do:

Pleaſe thou the beſt & never care,

what wicked ſay therto.

¶The C5r

The .1009109.

Of wicked men to be diſprayſd,

for prayſe do it accompt:

If they commend, then art thou mad

ſo doth their credit mount.

The .10010110.

When as the wicked are in midſt

of all their jolitye:

Miſfortune ſtandeth at the dore,

and ſkornes the ſame to ſee.


A ſoveraigne receypt.

The Juce of all theſe Flowers take,

and make thee a conſerve:

And uſe it firſte and laſte: and it

wyll ſafely thee preſerve.

By Iſ. W. Gent.

¶A farewell to the Reader.

Good Reader now you taſted have,

and ſmelt of all my Flowers:

The which to get ſome payne I tooke,

and travayled many houres.

C.v. I muſt C5v

I muſt requeſt you ſpoyle them not

nor doo in peeces teare them:

But if thy ſelfe doo lothe the ſent.

geve others leave to weare them.

I ſhall no whit be diſcontent,

for nothyng is ſo pure:

But one, or other will miſlyke

therof we may be ſure.

Yf he for whom I gathered them,

take pleaſure in the ſame;

And that for my preſumption,

my Friends doo not mee blame.

And that the favour take effecte,

in ſuch as I doo know:

And bring no harme to any els,

in place where it ſhal goe.

And that when I am diſtant farre,

it worne be for my ſake:

That ſome may ſay, God ſpeede her well

that dyd this Noſegay make.

And eke that he who ought the Plot,

wherein they ſame dyd grow:

Fume not to ſee them borne aboute,

and wyſh he did mee know.

And ſay in rage were ſhe a man,

that with my Flowers doth brag,

She well ſhould pay the price, I wolde

not leave her worth a rag.

If as I ſay, no harmes doo hap,

but that this well may ſpeede:

My C6r

My mind is fully ſatiſfyed,

I crave none other meede.

So wiſhing thee no worſe then thoſe,

of whom I think none yll:

I make an end and thee commend,

the liveing Lorde untyll.

Finis. Is. W.

Certain familier Epiſtles and friendly Letters by the Auctor: with Replies.

To her Brother. G. W.

Good Brother whēen a vacāant time

doth cauſe you hence to ryde:

And that the fertyl feelds do make,

you from the Cittie byde.

Then cāannot I once from you heare

nor know I how to ſend:

Or where to harken of your health

and al this would be kend.

And moſt of me, for why I leaſt,

of fortunes favour fynd:

No yeldyng yeare ſhe me allowes,

nor goodes hath me aſſind.

C.vi. But C6v

But ſtyll to friends I muſt appeale

(and next our Parentes deare,)

You are, and muſt be chiefeſt ſtaffe

that I ſhal ſtay on heare.

Wherfore mine owne good brother graunt

me when that you ar here:

To ſe you oft and alſo hence,

I may have knowledge wheare

A meſſenger to harke unto,

that I to you may wryte:

And eke of him your anſwers have

which would my hart delight.

Receave of me, and eke accept,

a ſimple token beare:

A ſmell of ſuch a Noſegay as

I do for preſent beare,

Unto a vertuous Ladye, which

tyll death I honour wyll:

The loſſe I had of service hers,

I languiſh for it ſtyll.

Your lovyng (though luckleſſe) Siſter,

Is. W.

¶To C7r

To her Brother. B. W.

Good Brother Brooke, I often looke,

to heare, of your returne:

But none can tell, if you be well,

nor where you doo ſojurne:

Which makes me feare, that I ſhall heare

your health appaired is:

And oft I dread, that you are dead,

or ſomthyng goeth amys.

Yet when I thinke, you can not ſhrinke,

but muſt with Maiſter bee:

I have good hope when you have ſcope,

you wyll repaire to mee.

And ſo the feare, and deepe diſpaire,

that I of you then had

I dryve away: and wyſh that day

wherein we may be glad.

Glad for to ſee, but els for mee:

wyll be no joy at all:

For on my ſide, no lucke wyll byde,

nor happye chaunce befall.

As you ſhall know, for I wyll ſhow,

you more when we doo ſpeake,

Then wyll I wryt, or yet reſyte,

within this Paper weake.

And ſo I end, and you commend,

to him that guides the ſkyes:

Who graunt you health, & ſend you welth,

no leſſe then ſhall ſuffice.

Your loving Siſter.

Iſ,Isabella W.Whitney

¶An C7v

An order preſcribed, by Is.Isabella W.Whitney to two of her yonger Siſters ſervinge in London.

Good Siſters mine, when I

ſhal further from you dwell:

Peruſe theſe lines, obſerve the rules

which in the ſame I tell.

So ſhal you wealth poſſes,

and quietneſſe of mynde:

And al your friends to ſe the ſame,

a treble joy ſhall fynde.

1. ¶

In mornings when you ryſe,

forget not to commende:

Your ſelves to God, beſeching him

from dangers to defende.

Your ſoules and boddies both,

your Parents and your friends:

Your teachers and your governers

ſo pray you that your ends,

May be in ſuch a ſort,

as God may pleaſed bee:

To live to dye, to dye to live,

with him eternally.

2.¶Then C8r

2. ¶

Then juſtly do ſuch deedes,

as are to you aſſynde:

All wanton toyes, good ſiſters now

exile out of your minde,

I hope you geve no cauſe,

wherby I ſhould ſuſpect:

But this I know too many live,

that would you ſoone infect.

Yf God do not prevent,

or with his grace expell:

I cannot ſpeake, or wryte to much,

becauſe I love you well.

3. ¶

Your buſines ſoone diſpatch,

and liſten to no lyes:

Nor credit every fayned tale,

that many wyll deviſe.

For words they are but winde.

yet words may hurt you ſo:

As you ſhall never brook the ſame,

yf that you have a foe.

God ſhyld you from all ſuch,

as would by word or Byll.

Procure your ſhame, or never ceaſe

tyll they have wrought you yll.

¶See C8v

4. ¶

See that you ſecrets ſeale,

tread trifles under ground:

Yf to reherſall oft you come,

it wyl your quiet wound.

Of laughter be not much,

nor over ſolemne ſeeme:

For then be ſure th’eyle coumpt you light

or proud wil you exteeme.

Be modeſt in a meane,

be gentyll unto all:

Though cauſe thei geve of contrari

yet be to wrath no thrall.

Refer you all to hym,

that ſits above the ſkyes:

Vengeance is his, he wil reveng,

you need it not devise.

5. ¶

And ſith that vertue guides,

where both of you do dwell:

Geve thanks to God, & painful bee

to pleaſe your rulers well.

For fleetyng is a foe,

experience hath me taught:

The rolling ſtone doth get no moſſe

your ſelves have hard full oft.

Your D1r

Your buſineſſe being done,

and this my ſcroule peruſd,

The day wyll end, and that the night

by you be not abuſde.

I ſome thing nedes muſt write,

take paynes to read the ſame:

Hencefoorth my lyfe as wel as Pen

ſhall your examples frame.

6. ¶

Your Maſters gon to Bed,

your Miſtreſſes at reſt.

Their Daughters all with haſt about

to get themſelves undreſt.

See that their Plate be ſafe,

and that no Spoone do lacke,

See Dores & Windowes bolted faſt

for feare of any wrack.

Then help yf neede ther bee,

to doo ſome houſholde thing:

Yf not to bed, referring you,

unto the heavenly King.

Forgettyng not to pray

as I before you taught,

And geveing thanks for al that he,

hath ever for you wrought.

D.i. good D1v

Good Siſters when you pray,

let me remembred be:

So wyll I you, and thus I ceaſe,

tyll I your ſelves do ſee.

() Is.Isabella WWhitney.

To her Siſter Miſteris A. B.

Becauſe I to my Brethern wrote,

and to my Siſters two:

Good Siſter Anne, you this might wote,

yf ſo I ſhould not doo

To you, or ere I parted hence,

You vainely had beſtowed expence.

Yet is it not for that I write,

for nature dyd you bynde:

To doo mee good: and to requight,

hath nature mee inclynde:

Wherfore good Siſter take in gree,

Theſe ſimple lynes that come from mee.

Wherin I wiſh you Neſtors dayes,

in happye health to reſt:

With ſuch ſuceſſe in all aſſayes,

as thoſe which God hath bleſt:

Your D2r

Your Huſband with your prety Boyes,

God keepe them free from all annoyes.

And graunt if that my luck it bee,

to linger heere ſo long:

Til they be men: that I may ſee,

for learning them ſo ſtrong:

That they may march amongſt the beſt,

Of them which learning have poſſeſt.

By that tyme wyl my aged yeares

perhaps a ſtaffe require:

And quakyngly as ſtyll in feares,

my lims draw to the fire:

Yet joy I ſhall them ſo to ſee,

Yf any joy in age there bee.

Good Siſter ſo I you commend,

to him that made us all:

I know you huſwyfery intend,

though I to writing fall:

Wherfore no lenger ſhall you ſtay,

From buſineſſe, that profit may.

Had I a Huſband, or a houſe,

and all that longes therto

My ſelfe could frame about to rouſe,

as other women doo:

But til ſome houſhold cares mee tye,

My bookes and Pen I wyll apply.

Your loving Siſter.

Is. W.


To her Coſen. F. W.

Good Coſin myne, I hope in helth

and ſafety you abyde.

And ſore I long, to here if yet

you are to wedlock tyde.

Yf ſo you to be, God graunt that well

both you and ſhe it ſpend:

If not when ſ’ere it haps, I wiſh

that God much joy you ſend.

And when you to the Cuntry come

or thither chaunce to ſend:

Let me you ſee, or have ſome ſcroll,

that ſhall of you be pend.

And this accompt as nature binds

and meryts yours deſerve:

I Coſin am, and faithfull friend,

not minding once to ſwerve.

So wiſhing you as happy health,

as ever man poſſeſt:

I end, and you commyt to him

that evermore is bleſt.

Your poore Kinſewoman, Is.Isabella WWhitney.
¶A D3r

¶A carefull complaynt by the unfortunate Auctor.

Good Dido ſtint thy teares,

and ſorrowes all reſigne

To mee: that borne was to augment,

miſſfortunes luckleſſe line.

Or uſing ſtyll the ſame,

good Dido doo thy beſt:

In helpyng to bewayle the hap,

that furthereth mine unreſt.

For though thy Troyan mate,

that Lorde Æneas hight:

Requityng yll thy ſted faſt love,

from Carthage tooke his flight.

And fowly brake his oth,

and promiſe made before:

Whoſe falſhode finiſht thy delight,

before thy haires were hore.

Yet greater cauſe of griefe

compells mee to complayne:

For Fortune fell converted hath,

My health to heapes of payne.

And that ſhe ſweares my death,

to playne it is (alas)

Whoſe end let malyce ſtyll attempt,

to bring the ſame to paſſe.

O Dido thou hadſt liv’de,

a happye Woman ſtyll,

If fickle fancie had not thrald

thy wits: to retchleſſe wyll.

D.iii. For D3v

For as the man by whom,

thy deadly dolors bred:

Without regard of plighted troth.

from Carthage Citie fled.

So might thy cares in tyme,

be baniſht out of thought:

His abſence might well ſalve the ſore,

that earſt his preſence wrought.

For fyre no lenger burnes,

then Faggots feede the flame:

The want of things that breede annoy,

may ſoone redreſſe the ſame.

But I unhappy moſte,

and gript with endles griefes:

Diſpayre (alas) amid my hope,

and hope with out reliefe.

And as the ſweltyng heate,

conſumes the War away:

So doo the heapes of deadly harmes,

ſtyll threaten my decay.

O Death delay not long,

thy dewtye to declare:

Ye Siſters three diſpatch my dayes

and finyſh all my care.

() Is.Isabella W.Whitney

¶In D4r

In anſwer to comfort her, by ſhewyng his haps to be harder.

Friend IsIsabella be now content, & let my ſorowes quell

the extreame rage, & care thou reſteſt in:

For wayling ſprights, ne furies fearce in hell:

nor griſley ſoules, that ſtyll in woe have bin:

Have ever felt lyke ſtormes that I ſuſtayne,

frownſt ſo I am, and duld in deepe diſpaire,

That ſure (mee thinks), my extreme raging payne:

might gaine thee helth: & ſet thee free from fere.

For Dido, thou, and many thouſands more,

which living feele the panges of extreme care,

Though tottered much; and torne in peeces ſmal:

whom ever griping death doth never ſpare.

Nor he, that falſley, Carthage Citie fled,

ſo fraught with wiles, nor ye ſuch ſorowes taſt:

By thouſand partes, as I who rightly ſed:

do pine as wax before the fire waſtes.

I freece to yce, I heate with perching son,

and torne with teene, thus languiſhing in paine,

Doo feele my ſorowes ever freſher run:

to flowing cares, that endles ſorowes gaine.

For what, for whom, and why this evyll woorks

frind Is.Isabella W.Whitney, time, nor ſilence; may it ſhow

But once ere many dayes, my care that lurks,

ſhall blowne be, and thou the ſame ſhalt know.

D.iiij. Tyll D4v

Till then, with ſilly Dido be content,

and rip no more, thy wronges in ſuch exceſſe:

Thy Fortune rather, wills thee to lament,

with ſpeedy wit, til hope may have redreſſe.

* Finis. () T. B.

¶A Replye to the ſame.

The bitter force of Fortunes frowardneſſe,

is painted out by B. his changed hew:

Report bewrayes, that tirants doubleneſſe,

which I by triall, prove (alas) to true.

conſtraynde I am, on thy miſhaps to rue:

As oft as I conſider thine eſtate,

Which differs far, from that thou waſt of late.

Where be thy wonted lively lookes becom?

or what miſchāance hath dimd thy beauty ſo

There is no God that deales ſuch doutful dom

No Jubpiter hath brought thee down ſo low:

thy haples fate, hath wroght thy overthro

For as Saturnus reaves the Berryes joy,

So Fortune ſtrives, to further thine annoy.

O Fortune falce, O thrice unſtedy joyes

Why doth not man miſtruſt thy ſutle ſhoes

Whoſe profers prove in time to be but toies

is this the fruit that from your bloſſom groes

then may you rightly be cōompard with thoſe

Whoſe D5r

whoſe painted ſpech, profeſſeth frindſhip ſtil

but time bewrayes the meaning to be yll.

For time that ſhewes, what erſt I could not ſee

Hath brought about, that I ſuſpected leaſt:

Complayning ſtill on our ſimplicitye

Who hedlong runs, as doth that carles beaſt

til hūunters ſnares, have laid his lims to reſt

For whēen we leſt miſtruſt & drede deceit

Then are we ſnard, with unſuſpected bait.

As lately unto thee it did be fall,

whoſe hap enforceth me to rue thy chance

For thou that floriſht earſt at beautyes ſtal:

Hath felt the force of froward Fortunes lance

Compeld to furniſh out miſfortunes dance

See heere the ſuertie that belongeth aye,

To mortal joys wheron the world doth ſtay

But live in hope that better hap may light,

For after ſtormes Sir Phebus force is ſeene

So when Saturnus hath declarde his might:

And Winter ſtints to turne the worlde to teene

then pleſāant Ver ſhal cloth the ground in greene

And luſty May ſhall labour to reſtore,

the things that Winters ſpit had ſpoyld before

Thēen ſhal the Berrey cleave her wonted hew,

and eke my B. that long hath taſted payne

When Fortun doth her former grace renew

ſhal hoyſted be to happye ſtate agayne

D.v.v In D5v

Delightyng oft among his friends & Kin,

To tell what danger earſt his lyfe was in.

Which happye ſight of mortal creturs, who

ſhal more rejoyce, then I thy friend to ſee

And while dame fortune, yeelded not therto

but doth proceed: to prove her ſpite on thee

yet ſhalt thou not ſo yll beloved bee,

But that thy Fame, for ever floriſh ſhall,

If Is.Isabella her Pen, may promiſe ought at all.


Is.Isabella W.Whitney to C. B. in bewaylynge her miſhappes.

Yf heavie hartes might ſerve to be

a ſacrifice for ſinne:

Or els, if ſorowes might ſuffice,

for what ſo ere hath byn:

Then mine Oblacion, it weare made,

Whiche longe have lived in Mourners trade.

The dryrie daye in dole (alas)

continuallye I ſpende:

The noyſome nightes, in reſtleſſe Bedde,

I bring unto his ende:

And when the daye appeares agayne,

Then fresh begyn my plaints amayne.

But D6r

But this I feare. wyll ſooner ceaſe:

the nomber of my ſinne:

Then make amendes, for former miſſe,

that I have lived in:

Becauſe I take not pacientlye

Correction in adverſytie.

Wherfore (my God) geve me that gyfte,

As he dyd Job untyll:

That I may take with quietneſſe,

what ſoever is his wyll:

Then ſhall my luckleſſe lyfe ſoone ende,

Or frowarde Fortune ſhall amende.

And for becauſe your ſound advice,

may eaſe me in diſtreſſe:

For that two wittes may compaſſe more

then one, you muſt confeſſe:

And that, that burthen dothe not deare,

whiche frende wyll ſomtyme helpe to beare.

Therfore, in this perplexitie,

To you deare frende I write:

You know mine endleſſe miſerie,

you know, how ſome me ſpite:

With counſell cure, for feare of wracke,

And helpe to beare, that breakes my backe.

So D6v

So wiſhing you in health to bide,

and troubles not to taſte

And geving tendance for your ayde,

which I requier in haſte

I ceaſe: and humbly me commend,

To the conducting of my Friende,

Your unfortunate Friend. Is.Isabella W.Whitney

¶In anſwer by C. B. To Is.Isabella W.Whitney

Your lamentable letter red,

and finding by the ſame:

That you my ſkilleſſe counſel crave,

to bring you to ſome frame:

Suche as it is, I redy preſte,

Both am, and wyll, to doo my beſt.

And where as thou in ſorow ſouſt

doeſt pyne thy ſelfe away:

I wyſh thee for to conquer care,

leaſt ſhe bring thy decay:

Thoſe fretting fyts, that thou art in,

Offends the Lord, augmenteth ſin.

The heavy hart: and mind oppreſt,

he never doth reject:

And at what hower we lament,

he doth us ſtyll reſpect.

Yet D7r

Yet that for ſin thou ſhuldſt thee kyll,

Wold both thy ſoule and body ſpyll.

But tis not altogether ſinne,

that makes you ſorow this:

It is becauſe that Fortune ſhe,

doth frowne on you iwis:

Wherfor if you my counſell lyke,

Turne of your teares, and ceaſe to ſyke.

Impart thy woes, and geve to mée,

the greateſt of the ſame:

Pluck ſtrength thee to: and cheriſh thée,

to modeſt mirth now frame:

Then friends and you may worke ſo well,

That Fortune ſhal your foes expell.

Yf eveil words and other wants,

have brought thee to this woe:

Remember how that Chriſt him ſelfe,

on earth was even ſo:

Thy Friends that have thee knowne of long,

Wil not regard thy enemies tong.

The vertue that hath ever béene,

within thy tender breſt:

Which I from yeare to yeare, have seene,

in all thy deedes expreſt:

Doth me perſwade thy enemies lye,

And in that quarell would I dye.

¶That D7v

That wiſedome which thou doeſt poſſes,

is rare for to be founde:

Thy courteſie to every one,

ſo greatly doth abound.

That thoſe which throwly thée do know,

Wil thee defend from any foe.

Wherfore as earſt I write to thee,

pluck up that hart of thine:

And make accompt for friendſhip, or

for ſervice: els of mine.

I wyl nat fayle for friend or foe,

Thy vertues they doo bind me ſo.

Thus wiſhing God to be your guide,

and graunt you Neſtors lyfe:

With health and haps, ſo good as earſt,

had any mayde or wyfe.

I end and reſt in what he may,

Your friend unto my dyeing day.

By mee C. B.

To my Friend Maſter T. L. whoſe good nature: I ſee abuſde.

Dyd not Dame Seres tell to you?

nor ſame unto you ſhew?

What ſturdi forms have bin abrod

and who hath playd the ſhrew.

I thought D8r

I thought the Godeſſe in your feelds

had helped with your crop:

Or els the ſame iil you had knowne,

her trump would never ſtop.

But ſith I ſe their ſilentneſſe,

I ceaſe the ſame to write:

Leaſt I therfore might be condemd

to do it for a ſpite.

But this I wiſh that you my frind

go chuſe ſome vertues wife:

With whōom in feare of God do ſpend,

the reſidue of your lyfe

For whylſt you are in ſingle ſtate

none hath that right regard:

They think all wel that they can win,

and compt it their reward.

With ſorow I to oft have ſeene,

when ſome wold fleece you much

And oft in writting wolde I ſay

good friend beware of ſuch.

But all my wordes they weare as wind

my labour yll was ſpent:

And in the end for my good wil,

moſt cruelly was ſhent.

Yf D8v

Yf I were boxt and buffeted,

good wyll ſhall never ceaſe:

Nor hāand, nor tōong, ſhal ſo be charmd

to make me holde my peace.

Wherfore I warne you once againe

be warie of your ſelfe:

For ſome have ſworne to lyke you well

ſo long as you have pelfe.

Yf warnings ſtyll you do reject,

to late your ſelfe ſhal rew:

Do as you lyſt, I wiſh you well,

and ſo I ſay adewe.

Your Wel Willer.

Is.Isabella W.Whitney

¶An other Letter ſent to Is.Isabella W.Whitney by one: to whom ſhee had written her infortunate ſtate.

Your Letters (Coſin) ſcarſley ſeene,

I catcht into my hand:

In hope therby ſome happy newes,

from you to underſtand.

But whēen I had ſurvaid the ſame, & waid the tenor well

A hevy heap of ſorowes did, mi former joyes expel.

I did E1r

I do rejoyce, as doth the Swanne, who redy for to dye,

with buryall ſonge ſalutes, her hard and dolefull deſteny.

Indeed, I ſe & kno to wel, how fortune ſpites your welth:

And as a tirant Godeſſe, doth diſdain your happie health.

Whoſe poyſon ſerpentine I truſt, in tyme ſhal waſted bee,

For time amends the greateſt miſſe, & ſets the captive free.

Wherfore (good Coſyn) as before, ſo now my barren quill

Diſdayneth not in ſimple ſorte, to utter his good wyll.

And to diſcharge the dutie that belōongeth to a frend,

Whoſe welth, I wold to God wer ſuch, as might your caſe am ēend

But luck prevēenting every meane, that might your harms redreſſe

Denieth power to me that do, a frēendly mind poſſeſſe

Yet Coſyn, rest in perfect hope, to ſee the happy day,

That ſhal unlade your heped grief, & drive your cares awai

And ſith the counſel of the Gods ſurpaſſe the humayne wit.

Remēember what the proverb ſaith: hereafter coms not yet.

And pōonder wel that Shipmāans caſe, whoſe deth, the toſſing tyde

Doth threaten oft: aſſaulting ſore his ſhakēen Ship with pride

Yet whēen Neptunus ſtaieth, & calmes the Seas again,

His joyes more ample are by farre, then theirs that did cōomplain

He tels at home with jocund mind amōong his friends & kyn

The danger great, & deep diſpair, that erst his life was in:

Triūumphing over Neptunes ſpite, whoſe force he felt before:

And joyes to vew the Seas, when he obtained hath the ſhore

So whēen the floods, of Fortunes ſpite that ſwel with foming rage

Shal ſtīint their ſtruglīing ſtrif, & whēen their malice ſhal aſwage

Then may you gain, & long enjoy the Haven of good hap:

For Nurſes chide ful oft, before they lull their child in lap.

E.i. And E1v

And take delight perhaps to tel, what trobles erſt I knew,

Whoſe bare reherſal might enforce, a ſtonie heart to rew.

Why ſhuld we thēen, with ſuch diſdain: endure the chaſtiſmēent

Wherbi, perhaps, the Gods in us, ſom further harms prevent

And ſith no creature may deſerve, Dame Junos graces well,

Whi ſhuld we grudg, & blame the gods, whoſe goodnes doth excel

Wheras our dutie bindeth us, their doyngs to allow:

Whoſe actions all are for the beſt, whēen we perceive not how

We rather ſhould with quiet minde, abide the dated time,

Wherin the Goddes ſhal us accompt, as worthy for to clime.

Whiche after trial ſhal betide, to thoſe that ſuffre ſmarte:

For: he doth yll deſerve the ſweet, that taſteth not the tarte

Which argueth thoſe that for a while, doth bide the brūunt of paine

To be the owners of good hap, when Fortune turnes againe

Whoſe nūumber, I beſeech the Gods your ſelf may furnish out,

And that his eies may ſee you plaſte, amid that happi rowt

Whoſe great good wil ſhal never dy: althogh the wāant of time

Hath don me wrong, & ever doth: in ſhortning of my rime.

Your moſt lovyng Coſyn. G. W.

Is.Isabella W.Whitney beyng wery of writyng, ſendeth this for Anſwere.

No leſſe then thankes, I render unto you,

What though it be a Beggers bare rewarde

Accept the ſame:(for Coſyn, this is true,

Tis all I have: my haps they are ſo hard:

As one beareth lyfe, is ſo from Fortune bard,

But E2r

But this I know, and hope it once to finde

God can, and wyl, exalt the humble minde.

This ſimple verce: content you for to take

for anſwer of your loving letter lardge,

For now I wyll my writting cleane forſake

till of my griefes, my ſtomack I diſcharg:

and tyll I row, in Ladie Fortunes barge.

Good Coſin write not nor any more replye,

But geve me leave, more quietnes to trye,

Your Coſin Is.Isabella WWhitney.

The Aucthour (though loth to leave the Citie) upon her Friendes procurement, is conſtrained to departe: wherfore (ſhe fayneth as ſhe would die) and maketh her wyll and Teſta­ ment, as foloweth: With large Legacies of ſuch Goods and riches which ſhe moſte aboundantly hath left behind her: and therof maketh Lon­ don ſole executor to ſe her Legacies performed.

¶A comunication which the Auctor had to London, before ſhe made her Wyll.

The time is come I muſt departe,

from thee ah famous Citie:

E.ii. I never E2v

I never yet to rue my ſmart,

did finde that thou hadſt pitie.

Wherfore ſmall cauſe ther is, that I

ſhould greeve from thee go:

But many Women foolyſhly,

lyke me, and other moe.

Doe ſuch a fyred fancy ſet,

on thoſe which leaſt deſarve,

That long it is ere wit we get,

away from them to ſwarve,

But tyme with pittie oft wyl tel

to thoſe that wil her try:

Whether it beſt be more to mell,

or utterly defye.

And now hath time me put īin mind,

of thy great cruelnes:

That never once a help wold finde,

to eaſe me in diſtres.

Thou never yet, woldſt credit geve

to boord me for a yeare:

Nor with Apparell me releve

except thou payed weare.

No, no, thou never didſt me good,

nor ever wilt I know:

Yet E3r

Yet am I in no angry moode,

but wyll, or ere I goe

In perfect love and charytie.

my Teſtament here write:

And leave to thee ſuch Treaſurye,

as I in it recyte.

Now ſtand a ſide and geve me leave

to write my lateſt Wyll:

And ſee that none you do deceave,

of that I leave them tyl.

The maner of her Wyll, & what ſhe left to London: and to all thoſe in it: at her departing.

I whole in body, and in minde,

but very weake in Purſe:

Doo make, and write my Teſtament

for feare it wyll be worſe.

And fyrſt I wholy doo commend,

my Soule and Body eke:

To God the Father and the Son,

ſo long as I can ſpeake.

And after ſpeach: my Soule to hym,

and Body to the Grave:

Tyll time that all ſhall riſe agayne,

their Judgement for to have.

E.iii. And E3v

And then I hope they both ſhal méete.

to dwell for aye in joye:

Whereas I truſt to ſee my Friends

releaſt, from all annoy.

Thus have you heard touching my ſoule,

and body what I meane:

I truſt you all wyll witnes beare,

I have a ſtedfaſt brayne.

And now let mée diſpoſe ſuch things,

as I ſhal leave behinde:

That thoſe which ſhall receave the ſame,

may know my wylling minde.

I firſt of all to London leave

becauſe I there was bred:

Brave buildyngs rare, of Churches ſtore,

and Pauls to the head.

Betweene the ſame: fayre ſtreats there bée,

and people goodly ſtore:

Becauſe their keeping craveth coſt,

I yet will leave him more.

Firſt for their foode, I Butchers leave,

that every day ſhall kyll:

By Thames you ſhal have Brewers ſtore,

and Bakers at your wyll.

And ſuch as orders doo obſerve,

and eat fiſh thrice a weeke:

I leave two Streets, full fraught therwith,

they neede not farre to ſeeke.

Watlyng Streete, and Canwyck ſtreete,

I full of Wollen leave:

And E4r

And Linnen ſtore in Friday ſtreete,

if they mee not deceave.

And thoſe which are of callyng ſuch,

that coſtlier they require:

I Mercers leave, with ſilke ſo rich,

as any would deſyre.

In Cheape of them, they ſtore ſhal finde

and likewiſe in that ſtreete:

I Goldſmithes leave with Juels ſuch,

as are for Ladies meete.

And Plate to furniſh Cubbards with,

full brave there ſhall you finde:

With Purle of Silver and of Golde,

to ſatiſfye your minde.

With Hoods, Bungraces, Hats or Caps,

ſuch ſtore are in that ſtreete:

As if on ton ſide you ſhould miſſe

the tother ſerves you seete.

For Nets of every kynd of ſort,

I leave within the pawne:

French Ruffes, high Purles, Gorgets and Sleeves

of any kind of Lawne.

For Purſe or Knives, for Combe or Glaſſe,

or any needeful knacke

I by the Stoks have left a Boy,

wil aſke you what you lack.

I Hoſe doo leave in Birchin Lane,

of any kynd of ſyſe:

For Women ſtitchte, for men both Trunks

and thoſe of Gaſcoyne giſe.

E.iiii. Bootes E4v

Bootes, Shoes or Pantables good ſtore,

Saint Martins hath for you:

In Cornwall, there I leave you Beds,

and all that longs thereto.

For Women ſhall you Taylors have,

by Bow, the chiefeſt dwel:

In every Lane you ſome ſhal finde,

can doo indifferent well.

And for the men, few Streetes or Lanes,

but Bodymakers bee:

And ſuch as make the ſweeping Cloakes,

with Gardes beneth the Knee.

Artyllery at Temple Bar,

and Dagges at Tower hyll:

Swords and Bucklers of the beſt,

are nye the Fleete untyll.

Now when thy Folke are fed and clad

with ſuch as I have namde:

For daynty mouthes, and ſtomacks weake

ſome Junckets muſt be framde.

Wherfore I Poticaries leave,

with Banquets in their Shop:

Phiſicians alſo for the ſicke,

Diſeaſes for to ſtop,

Some Royſters ſtyll, muſt byde in thee,

and ſuch as cut it out:

That with the guiltleſſe quarel wyl,

to let their blood about.

For them I cunning Surgions leave,

ſome Playſters apply.

That E5r

That Ruffians may not ſtyll be hangde,

nor quiet perſons dye.

For Salt, Otemeale, Candles, Sope,

or what you els doo want:

In many places, Shops are full,

I left you nothing ſcant.

Yf they that keepe what I you leave,

aſke Mony: when they ſell it:

At Mint, there is ſuch ſtore, it is

unpoſſible to tell it.

As Stiliarde ſtore of Wines there bee,

your dulled mindes to glad:

And handſome men, that muſt not wed

except they leave their trade.

They oft ſhal ſéeke for proper Gyrles,

and ſome perhaps ſhal fynde:

(That neede compels, or lucre lurss

to ſatiſfye their mind.

And neare the ſame, I houſes leave,

for people to repayre:

To bathe themſelves, ſo to prevent

infection of the ayre.

On Saturdayes I wiſh that thoſe,

which all the weeke doo drug:

Shall thyther trudge, to trim them up

on Sondayes to looke ſmug.

Yf any other thing be lackt

in thee, I wyſh them looke:

For there it is: I little brought

but no thyng from thee tooke.

E.v. Now E5v

Now for the people in thee left,

I have done as I may:

And that the poore, when I am gone,

have cauſe for me to pray.

I wyll to priſons portions leave,

what though but very ſmall:

Yet that they may remember me,

occaſion be it ſhall:

And fyrſt the Counter they ſhal have,

leaſt they ſhould go to wrack:

Some Coggers, and ſome honeſt men,

that Sergantes draw a back.

And ſuch as Friends wyl not them bayle,

whoſe coyne is very thin:

For them I leave a certayne hole,

and little eaſe within.

The Newgate once a Monthe ſhal have

a ſeſſions for his ſhare:

Leaſt being heapt, Infection might

procure a further care.

And at thoſe ſeſſions ſome ſhal ſkape,

with burning nere the Thumb:

And afterward to beg their fees,

tyll they have got the ſome.

And ſuch whoſe deedes deſerveth death,

and twelve have found the ſame:

They ſhall be drawne up Holborne hill,

to come to further ſhame:

Well, yet to ſuch I leave a Nag

ſhal ſoone their ſorowes ceaſe:

For E6r

For he ſhal either breake their necks

or gallop from the preace.

The Fleete, not in their circuit is,

yet if I geve him nought:

It might procure his curſe, ere I

unto the ground be brought.

Wherfore I leave ſome Papiſt olds

to under prop his roofe:

And to the poore within the ſame,

a Boxe for their behoofe.

What makes you ſtanders by to ſmile.

and laugh ſo in your ſleeve:

I thinke it is, becauſe that I

to Ludgate nothing geve.

I am not now in caſe to lye,

here is no place of jeſt:

I dyd reſerve, that for my ſelfe,

yf I my health poſſeſt.

And ever came in credit ſo

a debtor for to bee.

When dayes of paiment did approch,

I thither ment to flee.

To ſhroude my ſelfe amongſt the reſt,

that chuſe to dye in debt:

Rather then any Creditor,

ſhould money from them get.

Yet cauſe I feele my ſelfe ſo weake

that none mee credit dare:

I heere revoke: and doo it leave,

ſome Banckrupts to his ſhare.

They E6v

To all the Bookebinders by Paulles

becauſe I lyke their Arte:

They evry weeke ſhal mony have,

when they from Bookes depart.

Amongſt them all, my Printer muſt,

have ſomwhat to his ſhare:

I wyll my Friends theſe Bookes to bye

of him, with other ware.

For Maydens poore, I Widdoers ritch,

do leave, that oft ſhall dote:

And by that meanes ſhal mary them,

to ſet the Girles aflote.

And wealthy Widdowes wil I leave,

to help yong Gentylmen:

Which when you have, in any caſe

be courteous to them then:

And ſee their Plate and Jewells sake

may not be mard with ruſt.

Nor let their Bags too long be full,

for feare that they doo burſt.

To evry Gate under the walles,

that compas thee about:

I Fruit wives leave to entertayne

ſuch as come in and out.

To Smithfelde I muſt ſomething leave

my Parents there did dwell:

So careleſſe for to be of it,

none wolde accompt it well.

Wherfore it thrice a weeke ſhall have,

of Horſe and neat good ſtore

And E7r

And in his Spitle, blynd and lame,

to dwell for evermore.

And Bedlem muſt not be forgot,

for that was oft my walke:

I people there too many leave,

that out of tune doo talke.

At Bridewel there ſhal Bedelles be,

and Matrones that ſhal ſtyll

Soe Chalke wel chopt, and ſpinning plyde;

and turning of the Mill.

For ſuch as cannot quiet bee,

but ſtrive for Houſe or Land:

At Th’innes of Court, I Lawyers leave

to take their cauſe in hand.

And alſo leave I at ech Inne

of Court, or Chauncerye:

Of Gentylmen, a youthfull roote,

full of Activytie:

For whom I ſtore of Bookes have left,

at each Bookebinders ſtall:

And parte of all that London hath

to furniſh them withall.

And when they are with ſtudy cloyd:

to recreate theyr minde:

Of Tennis Courts, of dauncing Scooles,

and fence they ſtore ſhal finde.

And every Sonday at the leaſt,

I leave to make them ſport.

In E7v

In divers places Players, that

of wonders ſhall reporte.

Now London have I (for thy ſake)

within thee, and without:

As comes into my memory,

diſpearſed round about

Such needfull thinges, as they ſhould have

heere left now unto thee:

When I am gon, with conſience,

let them diſpearced bee.

And though I nothing named have,

to bury mee withall:

Conſider that above the ground,

annoyance bee I ſhall.

And let me have a ſhrowding Sheete

to cover mee from ſhame:

And in oblivyon bury mee

and never more mee name.

Ringings nor other Ceremonies,

use you not for coſt:

Nor at my buriall, make no feaſt,

your mony were but loſt.

Rejoyce in God that I am gon,

out of this vale ſo vile.

And that of ech thing, left ſuch ſtore,

as may your wants exile.

I make thee ſole executor, becauſe

I lov’de thee beſt.

And thee I put in truſt, to geve

the goodes unto the reſt.

Becauſe E8r

Becauſe thou ſhalt a helper neede,

In this ſo great a chardge,

I wyſh good Fortune, be thy guide, leaſt

thou ſhouldſt run at lardge.

The happy dayes and quiet times,

they both her Servants bee.

Which well wyll ſerve to fetch and bring,

ſuch things as neede to thee.

Wherfore (good London) not refuſe,

for helper her to take:

Thus being weake, and wery both

an end heere wyll I make.

To all that aſke what end I made,

and how I went away:

Thou anſwer makſt: like thoſe which heere,

no longer tary may.

And unto all that wyſh mee well,

or rue that I am gon:

Doo me comend, and bid them ceaſe

my abſence for to mone.

And tell them further, if they wolde,

my preſence ſtyll have had:

They ſhould have ſought to mend my luck:

which ever was too bad.

So fare thou well a thouſand times,

God ſheelde thee from thy foe:

And ſtyll make thee victorious,

of thoſe that ſeeke thy woe.

And (though I am perſwade) that I

ſhall never more thee ſee:

Yet E8v

Yet to the laſt, I ſhal not ceaſe

to wiſh much good to thee.

This, 1573-10xx. of October 3,

in 1573-10Anno Domini:

1573-10-20A Thouſand: one characterflawed-reproduction. hundred ſeventy three

as Alminacks deſcry.

Did write this Wyll, with mine owne hand

and it to London gave:

In witnes of the ſtanders by,

whoſe names yf you wyll have.

Paper, Pen and Standiſh were:

at that ſame preſent by:

With Time, who promiſed to reveale,

ſo faſt as ſhe could bye

The ſame: leaſt of my nearer kyn,

for any thing ſhould vary:

So finally I make an end

no longer can I tary.

Finis. by Is.Isabella W.Whitney