







 
   
     
       
         The first booke of songes & ayres of foure parts with tableture for the lute So made that all the parts together, or either of them severally may be song to the lute, orpherian or viol de gambo. Composed by Robert Iones.
         Jones, Robert, fl. 1597-1615.
      
       
         
           1600
        
      
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         A04613
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         ESTC S119449
         99854656
         99854656
         20089
         
           
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             The first booke of songes & ayres of foure parts with tableture for the lute So made that all the parts together, or either of them severally may be song to the lute, orpherian or viol de gambo. Composed by Robert Iones.
             Jones, Robert, fl. 1597-1615.
          
           [48] p. : music
           
             Printed by Peter Short with the assent of Thomas Morley, and are to be sold at the signe of the Starre on Bredstreet hill,
             [London] :
             1600.
          
           
             Place of publication from STC.
             Signatures: A² B-F⁴ G² .
             Imperfect; lacks leaves A1,2 - supplied in manuscript. Title page border taken from title page of the Second booke.
             Reproduction of the original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Part-songs, English -- Early works to 1800.
           Songs with lute -- Early works to 1800.
        
      
    
     
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             THE
             FIRST
             BOOKE
             OF
             SONGES
             &
             AYRES
             OF
             foure
             parts
             with
             Tableture
             for
             the
             Lute
             So
             made
             that
             all
             the
             parts
             together
             ,
             or
             either
             of
             them
             severally
             may
             be
             song
             to
             the
             Lute
             ,
             Orpherian
             or
             Viol
             de
             Gambo
             .
          
        
         
           
             Composed
             by
             
               Robert
               Iones
            
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               Quae
               prosunt
               singula
               multa
               iuuant
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             Printed
             by
             
               Peter
               Short
            
             with
             the
             assent
             of
             Thomas
             Morley
             ,
             and
             are
             to
             be
             sold
             at
             the
             signe
             of
             the
             Starre
             on
             
               Bredstreet
               hill
            
             .
             1600.
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           
             TO
             THE
             HONOURABLE
             AND
             VERTVOVS
             GENTLEMAN
             SIR
             ROBERT
             SIDNEY
             ,
             KNIGHT
             GOUERNOUR
             VNDER
             HER
             MAIESTIE
             OF
             THE
             TOWNE
             OF
             VLUSHING
             ,
             AND
             THE
             CASTLE
             OF
             THE
             Ramekins
             IN
             THE
             LOW
             COUNTRIES
             ,
             AND
             OF
             the
             forts
             of
             the
             same
             appendant
             ,
             with
             the
             garrison
             therein
             placed
             as
             well
             of
             horse
             as
             foote
             .
          
        
         
           
             YOUR
             great
             loue
             and
             fauour
             Honorable
             Syr
             ,
             euer
             manifested
             to
             all
             worthy
             Sciences
             ,
             hath
             imboldened
             me
             to
             offer
             vppe
             at
             your
             Lordships
             Shryne
             ,
             these
             the
             vnworthie
             labours
             of
             my
             musicall
             trauels
             .
             And
             though
             in
             respect
             of
             their
             weakenes
             ,
             they
             may
             perhaps
             seeme
             vntimely
             brought
             forth
             ,
             and
             therefore
             the
             vnlikelier
             to
             prosper
             ;
             yet
             doubt
             I
             not
             but
             if
             tenderd
             by
             you
             ,
             they
             shall
             happelie
             find
             gentle
             cherishing
             ,
             which
             may
             be
             a
             meane
             to
             make
             them
             more
             stronger
             ,
             or
             else
             miscarrying
             ,
             to
             encourage
             my
             endeuours
             to
             beget
             a
             better
             :
             for
             as
             no
             arts
             wincks
             at
             fewer
             errors
             than
             musicke
             :
             so
             none
             greater
             enimies
             to
             their
             owne
             profession
             then
             musicians
             ;
             who
             whilst
             in
             their
             own
             singularitie
             ,
             they
             condemne
             euery
             mans
             workes
             ,
             as
             some
             waie
             faulty
             ,
             they
             are
             the
             cause
             ,
             the
             art
             is
             the
             lesse
             esteemed
             ,
             and
             they
             themselues
             reputed
             as
             selfe-commenders
             ,
             and
             men
             most
             fantasticall
             .
             Wherefore
             if
             this
             one
             censuring
             infirmitie
             were
             remoued
             ,
             these
             my
             ayres
             (
             free
             I
             dare
             say
             from
             grosse
             errours
             )
             would
             finde
             euery
             where
             more
             gratious
             entertainement
             .
             But
             since
             euen
             those
             ,
             who
             are
             best
             seene
             in
             this
             art
             ,
             cannot
             vaunt
             themselues
             free
             from
             such
             detractours
             ,
             I
             the
             lesse
             regard
             it
             being
             so
             well
             accompanied
             .
             Howsoeuer
             if
             herein
             I
             may
             gaine
             your
             Honors
             good
             allowance
             ,
             I
             shall
             thinke
             I
             have
             attained
             to
             the
             better
             ende
             of
             my
             labours
             (
             which
             with
             my self
             ,
             and
             the
             best
             of
             my
             seruice
             )
             restes
             euer
             more
             at
             your
             Lordships
             imploiment
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               Your
               Lordships
               deuoted
               in
               all
               dutifull
               seruice
               .
               ROBERT
               IONES
               .
            
          
        
      
       
         
         
           
             TO
             THE
             READER
          
        
         
           
             GENTLEMEN
             ,
             since
             my
             desire
             is
             your
             eares
             shoulde
             be
             my
             indifferent
             iudges
             ,
             I
             cannot
             thinke
             it
             necessary
             to
             make
             my
             trauels
             ,
             or
             my
             bringing
             vp
             arguments
             to
             perswade
             you
             that
             I
             haue
             a
             good
             opinion
             of
             my selfe
             ,
             only
             thus
             much
             will
             I
             saie
             :
             That
             I
             may
             preuent
             the
             rash
             iudgments
             of
             such
             as
             know
             me
             not
             .
             Euer
             since
             I
             practised
             speaking
             ,
             I
             haue
             practised
             singing
             ;
             hauing
             had
             noe
             other
             qualitie
             to
             hinder
             me
             from
             the
             perfect
             knowledge
             of
             this
             faculty
             ,
             I
             haue
             been
             incouraged
             by
             the
             warrant
             of
             diuers
             good
             iudgments
             ,
             that
             my
             paines
             herein
             shall
             at
             the
             least
             procure
             good
             liking
             ,
             if
             not
             delight
             ,
             which
             yet
             for
             mine
             owne
             part
             I
             must
             needes
             feare
             as
             much
             as
             I
             desire
             ,
             especially
             when
             I
             consider
             the
             ripenes
             of
             this
             industrious
             age
             ,
             wherein
             all
             men
             endeuour
             to
             knowe
             all
             thinges
             ,
             I
             confesse
             I
             was
             not
             vnwilling
             to
             embrace
             the
             conceits
             of
             such
             gentlemen
             as
             were
             earnest
             to
             haue
             me
             apparel
             these
             ditties
             for
             them
             ;
             which
             though
             they
             intended
             for
             their
             priuate
             recreation
             ,
             neuer
             meaning
             they
             should
             come
             into
             the
             light
             ,
             were
             yet
             content
             vpon
             intreaty
             to
             make
             the
             incouragements
             of
             this
             my
             first
             adventure
             ,
             whereuppon
             I
             was
             almost
             glad
             to
             make
             my
             small
             skill
             knowne
             to
             the
             world
             :
             presuming
             that
             if
             my
             cunning
             failed
             me
             in
             the
             Musicke
             :
             yet
             the
             words
             might
             speake
             for
             themselues
             ,
             howsoeuer
             it
             pleaseth
             them
             to
             account
             better
             of
             that
             ,
             then
             of
             those
             .
             Of
             purpose
             (
             as
             it
             should
             seeme
             )
             to
             make
             me
             belieue
             I
             can
             do
             something
             ;
             my
             only
             hope
             is
             ,
             that
             seeing
             neither
             my
             cold
             ayres
             ,
             not
             their
             idle
             ditties
             (
             as
             they
             will
             needes
             haue
             me
             call
             them
             )
             have
             hitherto
             beene
             sounded
             in
             the
             eares
             of
             manie
             :
             they
             maie
             chance
             to
             finde
             such
             entertainment
             ,
             as
             commonlie
             newes
             doth
             in
             the
             world
             :
             which
             if
             I
             may
             be
             so
             happie
             to
             beare
             ,
             I
             will
             not
             saie
             my
             next
             shall
             be
             better
             ,
             but
             I
             will
             promise
             to
             take
             more
             paines
             to
             shew
             more
             points
             of
             musicke
             ,
             which
             now
             I
             could
             not
             do
             ,
             because
             my
             chiefest
             care
             was
             to
             fit
             the
             Note
             to
             the
             Word
             ,
             till
             when
             ,
             I
             must
             be
             as
             well
             content
             with
             each
             mans
             lawfull
             censure
             ,
             as
             I
             shall
             be
             glad
             of
             some
             mens
             vndeserued
             favours
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               R.
               J.
               
            
          
        
      
       
         
         
           A
           Table
           of
           all
           the
           Songs
           contained
           in
           this
           Booke
           .
        
         
           
             A
             Womans
             Lookes
             I.
             
          
           
             Fond
             wanton
             youths
             II.
             
          
           
             Shee
             whose
             matchlesse
             beauty
             III.
             
          
           
             Once
             did
             I
             loue
             IIII.
             
          
           
             Led
             by
             a
             strong
             desire
             V.
             
          
           
             Lie
             downe
             poore
             heart
             VI.
             
          
           
             Where
             lingring
             feare
             VII
             .
          
           
             Hero
             care
             not
             though
             VIII
             .
          
           
             When
             loue
             and
             time
             IX
             .
          
           
             Sweete
             come
             away
             X.
             
          
           
             Women
             what
             are
             they
             XI
             .
          
           
             Farewell
             deere
             loue
             XII
             .
          
           
             O
             my
             poore
             eies
             XIII
             .
          
           
             If
             fathers
             knew
             XIIII
             .
          
           
             Life
             is
             a
             Poets
             phable
             XV.
             
          
           
             Sweete
             Philomell
             XVI
             .
          
           
             That
             heart
             XVII
             .
          
           
             VVhat
             if
             I
             seeke
             XVIII
             .
          
           
             My
             mistris
             XIX
             .
          
           
             Perplexed
             XX.
             
          
           
             Can
             modest
             plaine
             desire
             XXI
             .
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
           I.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             A
             Womans
             looks
             are
             barbed
             hooks
             ,
             that
             catch
             
             
             by
             art
             the
             strongest
             hart
             ,
             when
             yet
             they
             spend
             no
             breath
             ,
             but
             let
             them
             speake
             
             
             &
             sighing
             break
             ,
             forth
             into
             teares
             ,
             their
             words
             are
             speares
             ,
             that
             wound
             our
             souls
             to
             death
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               The
               rarest
               wit
            
             
               Is
               made
               forget
               ,
            
             
               And
               like
               a
               child
            
             
               Is
               oft
               beguild
               ,
            
             
               With
               loues
               sweete
               seeming
               baite
               :
            
             
               Loue
               with
               his
               rod
            
             
               So
               like
               a
               God
               ,
            
             
               Commands
               the
               mind
            
             
               VVe
               cannot
               find
               ,
            
             
               Faire
               shewes
               hide
               fowle
               deceit
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Time
               that
               all
               thinges
            
             
               In
               order
               bringes
               ,
            
             
               Hath
               taught
               me
               now
            
             
               To
               be
               more
               slow
               ,
            
             
               In
               giuing
               faith
               to
               speech
               :
            
             
               Since
               womens
               wordes
            
             
               No
               truth
               affordes
               ,
            
             
               And
               when
               they
               kisse
            
             
               They
               thinke
               by
               this
               ,
            
             
               Vs
               men
               to
               ouer-reach
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             A
             Womans
             looks
             are
             barbed
             hookes
             ,
             that
             catch
             by
             art
             the
             strongest
             hart
             ,
             
             when
             yet
             they
             spend
             no
             breath
             ,
             but
             let
             them
             speake
             and
             sighing
             breake
             ,
             forth
             into
             
             teares
             ,
             their
             words
             are
             speares
             ,
             that
             wound
             our
             soules
             to
             death
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             A
             Womans
             lookes
             are
             barbed
             
             hookes
             ,
             that
             catch
             by
             art
             the
             strongest
             hart
             ,
             
             vvhen
             yet
             they
             spend
             no
             breath
             ,
             but
             let
             them
             
             speake
             and
             sighing
             breake
             ,
             forth
             into
             teares
             ,
             
             their
             wordes
             are
             speares
             ,
             that
             vvound
             our
             
             soules
             to
             death
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             A
             Womans
             lookes
             are
             barbed
             hookes
             ,
             that
             catch
             by
             art
             the
             strongest
             
             hart
             ,
             when
             yet
             they
             spend
             no
             breath
             ,
             but
             let
             them
             speake
             and
             sighing
             breake
             ,
             forth
             into
             
             teares
             ,
             their
             vvordes
             are
             speares
             ,
             that
             wound
             our
             soules
             to
             death
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           II.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             FOnd
             wanton
             youths
             ,
             fond
             wanton
             youths
             
             
             make
             loue
             a
             God
             ,
             which
             after
             proueth
             ages
             rod
             ,
             their
             youth
             ,
             their
             time
             ,
             their
             wit
             ,
             their
             
             
             arte
             ,
             they
             spend
             in
             seeking
             of
             their
             smarte
             ,
             and
             which
             of
             follies
             is
             the
             chiefe
             ,
             they
             
             
             wooe
             their
             woe
             ,
             they
             wooe
             their
             woe
             ,
             they
             wedde
             their
             griefe
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               All
               finde
               it
               so
               who
               wedded
               are
               ,
            
             
               Loues
               sweetes
               they
               finde
               enfold
               sowre
               care
               :
            
             
               His
               pleasures
               pleasingst
               in
               the
               eie
               ,
            
             
               Which
               tasted
               once
               ,
               with
               lothing
               die
               :
            
             
               They
               find
               of
               follies
               t
               is
               the
               chiefe
               ,
            
             
               Their
               woe
               to
               wooe
               to
               wedde
               their
               griefe
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               If
               for
               their
               owne
               content
               they
               choose
               ,
            
             
               Forthwith
               their
               kindreds
               loue
               they
               loose
               :
            
             
               And
               if
               their
               kindred
               they
               content
               ,
            
             
               For
               euer
               after
               they
               repent
               .
            
             
               O
               t
               is
               of
               all
               our
               follies
               chiefe
               ,
            
             
               Our
               woe
               to
               wooe
               to
               wedde
               our
               griefe
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               In
               bed
               vvhat
               strifes
               are
               bred
               by
               day
               ,
            
             
               Our
               puling
               vviues
               doe
               open
               lay
               :
            
             
               None
               friendes
               none
               foes
               vve
               must
               esteeme
               ,
            
             
               But
               vvhome
               they
               so
               vouchsafe
               to
               deeme
               :
            
             
               O
               t
               is
               of
               all
               our
               follies
               chiefe
               ,
            
             
               Our
               woe
               to
               wooe
               to
               vvedde
               our
               griefe
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               Their
               smiles
               we
               want
               if
               ought
               they
               want
               ,
            
             
               And
               either
               we
               their
               wils
               must
               grant
               ,
            
             
               Or
               die
               they
               will
               or
               are
               vvith
               child
               ,
            
             
               Their
               laughings
               must
               not
               be
               beguild
               :
            
             
               O
               t
               is
               of
               all
               our
               follies
               chiefe
               ,
            
             
               Our
               woe
               to
               vvoo
               to
               vvedde
               our
               griefe
               ,
            
          
           
             
               6
            
             
               Foule
               vviues
               are
               iealous
               ,
               faire
               vviues
               false
               ,
            
             
               Mariage
               to
               either
               bindes
               vs
               thrall
               :
            
             
               Wherefore
               being
               bound
               vve
               must
               obey
               ,
            
             
               And
               forced
               be
               perforce
               to
               say
               ▪
            
             
               Of
               all
               our
               blisse
               it
               is
               the
               chiefe
               ,
            
             
               Our
               woe
               to
               vvooe
               to
               wed
               our
               griefe
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             FOnd
             wanton
             youths
             ,
             ii
             .
             fond
             wanton
             youths
             make
             loue
             a
             God
             ii
             .
             which
             
             after
             proueth
             a
             -
             ges
             rodde
             ,
             their
             youth
             ,
             their
             time
             ,
             their
             wit
             ,
             their
             arte
             ,
             they
             spend
             in
             seeking
             of
             
             their
             smart
             ,
             and
             which
             of
             follies
             is
             the
             chiefe
             they
             wooe
             their
             woe
             ,
             ii
             .
             they
             wedde
             their
             
             griefe
             ,
             they
             wedde
             their
             griefe
             ,
             they
             wedde
             their
             griefe
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             FOnd
             wanton
             youths
             ,
             ii
             .
             Fond
             
             wanton
             youths
             make
             loue
             a
             God
             ,
             which
             
             after
             proueth
             ages
             rod
             ages
             rod
             ,
             their
             youth
             ,
             their
             
             time
             ,
             their
             wit
             ,
             their
             art
             ,
             their
             art
             ,
             they
             spend
             in
             seeking
             
             of
             their
             smart
             ,
             and
             which
             of
             follies
             is
             the
             chiefe
             
             they
             wooe
             their
             woe
             ,
             their
             woe
             ,
             they
             wooe
             their
             woe
             ,
             
             they
             wedde
             their
             griefe
             ,
             they
             wedde
             their
             griefe
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             FOnd
             wanton
             youths
             ,
             ii
             .
             Fond
             vvantō
             youths
             make
             loue
             a
             God
             make
             
             loue
             a
             God
             which
             after
             proueth
             ages
             rod
             ,
             their
             youth
             ,
             their
             time
             .
             their
             wit
             ,
             their
             art
             ,
             ii
             .
             they
             spend
             in
             
             seeking
             of
             their
             smart
             ,
             and
             which
             of
             follies
             is
             the
             chiefe
             ,
             of
             follies
             is
             the
             chiefe
             ,
             they
             wooe
             
             their
             woe
             ,
             they
             wedde
             their
             griefe
             ,
             they
             wooe
             their
             woe
             ,
             their
             vvoe
             ,
             they
             vvedde
             their
             griefe
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           III.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             SHe
             whose
             matchles
             beauty
             stayneth
             ,
             what
             best
             iudgment
             
             
             fairst
             maintaineth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             dis
             -
             dai
             -
             neth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             
             
             loue
             disdaineth
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Can
               a
               creature
               so
               excelling
               ,
            
             
               Harbour
               scorne
               in
               beauties
               dwelling
               ,
            
             
               All
               kinde
               pitty
               thence
               expelling
               ?
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Pitty
               beauty
               much
               commendeth
               ,
            
             
               And
               th'imbracer
               oft
               befriendeth
               ,
            
             
               When
               all
               eie
               contentment
               endeth
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               Time
               proues
               beauty
               transitory
            
             
               Scorne
               ;
               the
               staine
               of
               beauties
               glory
               ,
            
             
               In
               time
               makes
               the
               scorner
               sorie
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               None
               adores
               the
               sunne
               declining
               ,
            
             
               Loue
               all
               loue
               fals
               to
               resigning
               ,
            
             
               When
               the
               sunne
               of
               loue
               leaues
               shining
               .
            
          
           
             
               6
            
             
               So
               when
               flowre
               of
               beauty
               failes
               thee
               ,
            
             
               And
               age
               stealing
               on
               assailes
               thee
               ,
            
             
               Then
               marke
               what
               this
               scorne
               auailes
               thee
               .
            
          
           
             
               7
            
             
               Then
               those
               hearts
               which
               now
               complaining
               ,
            
             
               Feele
               the
               wounds
               of
               thy
               disdaining
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               contemne
               thy
               beauty
               waining
               .
            
          
           
             
               8
            
             
               Yea
               thine
               owne
               hart
               now
               deere
               prized
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               with
               spite
               and
               griefe
               surprised
               ,
            
             
               Burst
               to
               finde
               it selfe
               despised
               .
            
          
           
             
               9
            
             
               When
               like
               harmes
               haue
               them
               requited
               ,
            
             
               Who
               in
               others
               harmes
               delighted
               ,
            
             
               Pleasingly
               the
               wrong'd
               are
               righted
               .
            
          
           
             
               10
            
             
               Such
               reuenge
               my
               wronges
               attending
               ,
            
             
               Hope
               still
               liues
               on
               time
               depending
               ,
            
             
               By
               thy
               plagues
               my
               torments
               ending
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             SHee
             whose
             matchlesse
             beauty
             stay
             -
             neth
             ,
             vvhat
             best
             iudgement
             
             fairst
             maintaineth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             my
             loue
             dis
             -
             daineth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             my
             
             loue
             dis
             -
             daineth
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             SHee
             whose
             matchlesse
             beau
             -
             ty
             
             stayneth
             ,
             what
             best
             iudgement
             fairst
             main
             -
             
             tay
             -
             neth
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             my
             loue
             
             dis
             -
             dai
             -
             neth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             my
             
             loue
             dis
             -
             daineth
             .
             
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             SHee
             vvhose
             matchlesse
             beauty
             stay
             -
             neth
             ,
             vvhat
             best
             iudgement
             fairst
             
             main
             -
             tay
             -
             neth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             my
             loue
             dis
             -
             daineth
             ,
             shee
             O
             shee
             my
             loue
             my
             
             loue
             dis
             -
             daineth
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           IIII.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             ONce
             did
             I
             loue
             and
             yet
             I
             liue
             ,
             though
             
             
             loue
             &
             truth
             be
             now
             for
             -
             gotten
             .
             Then
             did
             I
             ioy
             nowe
             doe
             I
             grieue
             ,
             that
             holy
             
             
             vows
             must
             needs
             be
             broken
             ,
             that
             holy
             vowes
             must
             needs
             be
             broken
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Hers
               be
               the
               blame
               that
               causd
               it
               so
               ,
            
             
               Mine
               be
               the
               griefe
               though
               it
               be
               little
               ,
            
             
               Shee
               shall
               haue
               shame
               I
               cause
               to
               know
               :
            
             
               What
               t
               is
               to
               loue
               a
               dame
               so
               fickle
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Loue
               her
               that
               list
               I
               am
               content
               ,
            
             
               For
               that
               Camelion
               like
               shee
               changeth
               ,
            
             
               Yeelding
               such
               mistes
               as
               may
               preuent
               ▪
            
             
               My
               sight
               to
               view
               her
               when
               she
               rangeth
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               Let
               him
               not
               vaunt
               that
               gaines
               my
               losse
               ,
            
             
               For
               when
               that
               he
               and
               time
               hath
               prou'd
               her
               ,
            
             
               Shee
               may
               him
               bring
               to
               weeping
               crosse
               :
            
             
               I
               say
               no
               more
               because
               I
               lou'd
               her
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             ONce
             did
             I
             loue
             and
             yet
             I
             liue
             and
             yet
             I
             liue
             ,
             though
             loue
             and
             truth
             be
             now
             
             forgotten
             ,
             then
             did
             I
             ioy
             now
             doe
             I
             grieue
             ,
             now
             doe
             I
             grieue
             that
             holy
             vows
             must
             needs
             
             be
             broken
             ,
             that
             holy
             vowes
             must
             needs
             must
             needs
             bee
             broken
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             ONce
             did
             I
             loue
             and
             yet
             I
             liue
             and
             yet
             
             I
             liue
             ,
             though
             loue
             and
             truth
             be
             now
             forgot
             -
             
             ten
             ,
             then
             did
             I
             ioy
             now
             doe
             I
             grieue
             now
             doe
             
             I
             grieue
             that
             holy
             vowes
             must
             needes
             bee
             
             bro
             -
             ken
             ,
             that
             holy
             vowes
             must
             needes
             be
             
             broken
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             ONce
             did
             I
             loue
             and
             yet
             I
             liue
             and
             yet
             I
             liue
             ,
             though
             loue
             and
             truth
             bee
             
             now
             bee
             now
             forgotten
             ,
             then
             did
             I
             ioy
             ,
             now
             doe
             I
             grieue
             I
             grieue
             ,
             that
             holy
             vowes
             must
             
             needs
             be
             broken
             that
             holy
             vowes
             must
             needs
             must
             needs
             bee
             broken
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           V.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             LEd
             by
             a
             strong
             de
             -
             sire
             to
             haue
             a
             thing
             vn
             -
             
             
             seene
             ,
             nothing
             could
             make
             mee
             tire
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             where
             as
             I
             had
             been
             ,
             
             
             I
             got
             her
             sight
             which
             made
             me
             think
             ,
             my
             thirst
             was
             gone
             because
             I
             saw
             my
             drinke
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Kept
               by
               the
               carefull
               watch
            
             
               Of
               more
               then
               hundred
               eies
               ,
            
             
               I
               sought
               but
               could
               not
               catch
            
             
               The
               thing
               she
               not
               denies
               :
            
             
               T
               is
               better
               to
               be
               blind
               and
               fast
               ,
            
             
               Then
               hungrie
               see
               thy
               loue
               and
               cannot
               tast
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               But
               louers
               eies
               doe
               wake
            
             
               When
               others
               are
               at
               rest
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               the
               night
               they
               slake
            
             
               The
               fire
               of
               daies
               vnrest
               :
            
             
               Mee
               thinkes
               that
               ioy
               is
               of
               most
               worth
               ,
            
             
               Which
               painful
               time
               &
               passed
               fears
               brings
               forth
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               Yet
               husbands
               doe
               suppose
            
             
               To
               keepe
               their
               wiues
               by
               art
               ,
            
             
               And
               parents
               will
               disclose
            
             
               By
               lookes
               their
               childrens
               hart
               :
            
             
               As
               if
               they
               which
               haue
               will
               to
               doe
               ,
            
             
               Had
               not
               the
               wit
               to
               blind
               such
               keepers
               to
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               Peace
               then
               yee
               aged
               fooles
            
             
               That
               know
               your selues
               so
               wise
               ,
            
             
               That
               from
               experience
               schooles
            
             
               Doe
               thinke
               wit
               must
               arise
               :
            
             
               Giue
               young
               men
               leaue
               to
               thinke
               and
               say
               ,
            
             
               Your
               senses
               with
               your
               bodies
               doe
               decay
               .
            
          
           
             
               6
            
             
               Loue
               ruleth
               like
               a
               God
            
             
               Whom
               earth
               keepes
               not
               in
               awe
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               feare
               of
               smarting
               rod
            
             
               Denounc'd
               by
               reasons
               law
               :
            
             
               Giue
               graue
               aduise
               but
               rest
               you
               there
               ,
            
             
               Youth
               hath
               his
               cours
               ,
               &
               wil
               ,
               &
               you
               youths
               wer
               .
            
          
           
             
               7
            
             
               Thinke
               not
               by
               prying
               care
            
             
               To
               picke
               loues
               secrets
               out
               ,
            
             
               If
               you
               suspitious
               are
            
             
               Your selues
               resolue
               your
               doubt
               ,
            
             
               Who
               seekes
               to
               know
               such
               deede
               once
               done
               ,
            
             
               Findes
               periury
               before
               confession
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             LEd
             by
             a
             strong
             de
             -
             sire
             to
             haue
             a
             thing
             vnseene
             ,
             no-thing
             could
             
             make
             mee
             tire
             ,
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             where
             I
             had
             been
             ,
             I
             got
             her
             
             sight
             which
             made
             me
             thinke
             ,
             my
             thirst
             was
             gone
             ,
             because
             I
             saw
             my
             drinke
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             LEd
             by
             a
             strong
             desire
             to
             haue
             
             a
             thing
             vnseene
             ,
             nothing
             could
             make
             me
             
             tire
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             to
             bee
             where
             I
             had
             been
             ,
             
             where
             I
             had
             been
             ,
             I
             got
             her
             sight
             which
             made
             
             me
             thinke
             my
             thirst
             was
             gone
             ,
             because
             I
             saw
             
             my
             drinke
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             LEd
             by
             a
             strong
             de
             -
             sire
             to
             haue
             a
             thing
             vn
             -
             seene
             ,
             nothing
             could
             make
             
             could
             make
             me
             tire
             ,
             to
             be
             to
             be
             to
             be
             where
             I
             had
             been
             ,
             ii
             .
             where
             I
             had
             bin
             ,
             I
             got
             her
             
             sight
             which
             made
             me
             thinke
             my
             thirst
             was
             gone
             ,
             because
             I
             saw
             my
             drinke
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           VI.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             LIe
             downe
             poore
             heart
             and
             die
             a
             while
             for
             
             
             griefe
             ,
             thinke
             not
             this
             world
             will
             euer
             do
             thee
             good
             ,
             fortune
             fore
             -
             warnes
             y●
             looke
             to
             
             
             thy
             reliefe
             ,
             and
             sorrow
             sucks
             vpon
             thy
             liuing
             bloud
             ,
             then
             this
             is
             all
             can
             helpe
             thee
             
             
             of
             this
             hell
             ,
             lie
             downe
             and
             die
             ,
             lie
             down
             and
             die
             ,
             and
             then
             thou
             shalt
             doe
             well
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Day
               giues
               his
               light
               but
               to
               thy
               labours
               toyle
               ,
            
             
               And
               night
               her
               rest
               but
               to
               thy
               weary
               bones
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               fairest
               fortune
               followes
               with
               a
               foyle
               :
            
             
               And
               laughing
               endes
               but
               with
               their
               after
               grones
               .
            
             
               And
               this
               is
               all
               can
               helpe
               thee
               of
               thy
               hell
               ,
            
             
               Lie
               downe
               and
               die
               and
               then
               thou
               shalt
               doe
               well
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Patience
               doth
               pine
               and
               pitty
               ease
               no
               paine
               ,
            
             
               Time
               weares
               the
               thoughts
               but
               nothing
               helps
               the
               mind
               ,
            
             
               Dead
               and
               aliue
               aliue
               and
               dead
               againe
               :
            
             
               These
               are
               the
               fits
               that
               thou
               art
               like
               to
               finde
               .
            
             
               And
               this
               is
               all
               can
               helpe
               thee
               of
               thy
               hell
               ,
            
             
               Lie
               downe
               and
               die
               and
               then
               thou
               shalt
               doe
               well
               ▪
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             LIe
             down
             poore
             hart
             ,
             ii
             .
             and
             die
             a
             while
             for
             griefe
             ,
             thinke
             not
             this
             world
             will
             
             euer
             do
             thee
             good
             do
             thee
             good
             ,
             fortune
             forewarns
             thou
             looke
             to
             thy
             reliefe
             to
             thy
             reliefe
             ,
             and
             sorrow
             
             sucks
             vppon
             thy
             liuing
             bloud
             thy
             liuing
             bloud
             ,
             then
             this
             is
             all
             can
             ridde
             thee
             of
             this
             hell
             ,
             lie
             downe
             and
             
             die
             and
             die
             ,
             lie
             ,
             ii
             .
             lie
             ,
             ii
             .
             and
             then
             thou
             shalt
             doe
             well
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             LIe
             down
             poore
             hart
             &
             die
             a
             while
             for
             
             griefe
             ,
             ii
             .
             thinke
             not
             this
             world
             will
             
             euer
             do
             thee
             good
             ,
             fortune
             forewarnes
             forewarnes
             
             thou
             looke
             to
             thy
             reliefe
             ,
             &
             sorrow
             sucks
             vpon
             thy
             
             liuing
             bloud
             ,
             thy
             ,
             ii
             .
             then
             this
             is
             all
             can
             rid
             thee
             
             of
             this
             hell
             ,
             lie
             downe
             and
             die
             &
             die
             ,
             lie
             downe
             and
             
             die
             and
             then
             thou
             shalt
             doe
             well
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             LIe
             downe
             poore
             hart
             and
             die
             a
             while
             for
             griefe
             a
             while
             for
             griefe
             ,
             thinke
             not
             this
             
             world
             will
             euer
             will
             euer
             doe
             thee
             good
             ,
             fortune
             forewarnes
             ,
             ii
             .
             thou
             looke
             to
             thy
             relief
             ,
             &
             
             sorrow
             sucks
             vpon
             thy
             liuing
             bloud
             thy
             liuing
             bloud
             ,
             then
             this
             is
             all
             can
             helpe
             thee
             of
             this
             hell
             ,
             can
             ,
             
             ii
             .
             lie
             downe
             and
             die
             ,
             ii.ii.
             and
             then
             thou
             shalt
             doe
             well
             ,
             ii
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           VII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             WHere
             lingring
             feare
             doth
             once
             posses
             doth
             once
             posses
             the
             
             
             hart
             ,
             there
             is
             the
             toong
             forst
             to
             prolong
             ,
             &
             smother
             vp
             his
             suite
             ,
             while
             that
             his
             smart
             
             
             while
             that
             his
             smart
             ,
             like
             fire
             supprest
             like
             fire
             supprest
             ,
             flames
             more
             in
             euery
             part
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Who
               dares
               not
               speake
               deserues
               not
               his
               desire
               ,
            
             
               The
               Boldest
               face
               ,
            
             
               Findeth
               most
               grace
               :
            
             
               Though
               women
               loue
               that
               men
               should
               thē
               admire
               ,
            
             
               They
               slily
               laugh
               at
               him
               dares
               come
               no
               higher
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Some
               thinke
               a
               glaunce
               expressed
               by
               a
               sigh
               ,
            
             
               Winning
               the
               field
               ,
            
             
               Maketh
               them
               yeeld
               :
            
             
               But
               while
               these
               glauncing
               fooles
               do
               rowle
               the
               eie
               ,
            
             
               They
               beate
               the
               bush
               ,
               away
               the
               bird
               doth
               flie
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               A
               gentle
               hart
               in
               vertuous
               breast
               doth
               stay
               ,
            
             
               Pitty
               doth
               dwell
               ,
            
             
               In
               beauties
               cell
               :
            
             
               A
               womans
               hart
               doth
               not
               thogh
               tong
               say
               nay
            
             
               Repentance
               taught
               me
               this
               the
               other
               day
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               Which
               had
               I
               wist
               I
               presently
               had
               got
               ,
            
             
               The
               pleasing
               fruite
               ,
            
             
               Of
               my
               long
               suite
               :
            
             
               But
               time
               hath
               now
               beguild
               me
               of
               this
               lot
               ,
            
             
               For
               that
               by
               his
               foretop
               I
               tooke
               him
               not
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHere
             lingring
             fear
             where
             lingring
             fear
             doth
             once
             posses
             ,
             ii
             .
             the
             hart
             
             doth
             once
             posses
             the
             hart
             ,
             there
             is
             the
             toong
             forst
             to
             prolong
             &
             smother
             vp
             his
             smart
             ,
             while
             
             that
             his
             suit
             while
             that
             his
             suit
             ,
             like
             fire
             supprest
             like
             fire
             supprest
             ,
             flams
             more
             in
             euery
             part
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHere
             lingring
             feare
             doth
             once
             
             posses
             ,
             doth
             once
             posses
             the
             hart
             ,
             posses
             the
             
             hart
             ,
             there
             is
             the
             toong
             forst
             to
             prolong
             pro
             -
             
             long
             and
             smother
             vp
             his
             suit
             ,
             while
             that
             his
             
             smart
             while
             that
             his
             smart
             ,
             ii
             .
             like
             
             fire
             supprest
             like
             fire
             supprest
             ,
             flames
             more
             
             in
             euery
             part
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             WHere
             lingring
             feare
             doth
             once
             possesse
             ,
             ii
             .
             the
             hart
             ,
             there
             is
             the
             
             toong
             forst
             to
             prolong
             and
             smother
             vp
             his
             suite
             his
             suite
             ,
             while
             that
             his
             smart
             like
             fire
             supprest
             
             like
             fire
             supprest
             ,
             flames
             more
             in
             e
             -
             ue
             -
             ry
             place
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           VIII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             HEro
             care
             not
             though
             they
             prie
             ,
             I
             will
             loue
             thee
             till
             I
             die
             ,
             
             
             Ie
             -
             lou
             -
             sie
             is
             but
             a
             smart
             ,
             that
             tormentes
             a
             ielous
             hart
             :
             Crowes
             are
             blacke
             
             
             that
             were
             white
             ,
             for
             betraying
             loues
             delight
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               They
               that
               loue
               to
               finde
               a
               fault
               ,
            
             
               May
               repent
               what
               they
               haue
               sought
               ,
            
             
               What
               the
               fond
               eie
               hath
               not
               view'd
               ,
            
             
               Neuer
               wretched
               hart
               hath
               rew'd
               :
            
             
               Vulcan
               then
               ,
               prou'd
               a
               scorne
               ,
            
             
               When
               he
               saw
               he
               wore
               a
               horne
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Doth
               it
               then
               by
               might
               behoue
               ,
            
             
               To
               shut
               vp
               the
               gates
               of
               loue
               ,
            
             
               Women
               are
               not
               kept
               by
               force
               ,
            
             
               But
               by
               natures
               owne
               remorse
               .
            
             
               If
               they
               list
               ,
               they
               will
               stray
               ,
            
             
               Who
               can
               hold
               that
               will
               away
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               Ioue
               in
               golden
               shower
               obtain'd
               ,
            
             
               His
               loue
               in
               a
               towre
               restrain'd
               ,
            
             
               So
               perhaps
               if
               I
               could
               doe
               ,
            
             
               I
               might
               hold
               my
               sweete
               loue
               to
               :
            
             
               Gold
               keepe
               out
               at
               the
               doore
               ,
            
             
               I
               haue
               loue
               that
               conquers
               more
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               VVherefore
               did
               they
               not
               suspect
               ,
            
             
               VVhen
               it
               was
               to
               some
               effect
               ,
            
             
               Euery
               little
               glimmering
               sparke
               ,
            
             
               Is
               perceiued
               in
               the
               darke
               :
            
             
               This
               is
               right
               ,
               how
               lets
               kinde
               ,
            
             
               See
               by
               night
               ,
               by
               day
               be
               blinde
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             HEro
             care
             not
             though
             they
             prie
             ,
             I
             will
             loue
             thee
             till
             I
             die
             ,
             ielouzie
             is
             
             but
             a
             smart
             that
             torments
             a
             ielous
             hart
             a
             ielous
             hart
             ,
             Crowes
             are
             blacke
             that
             were
             
             vvhite
             ,
             for
             betraying
             loues
             delight
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             HEro
             care
             not
             though
             they
             prie
             ,
             
             I
             will
             loue
             thee
             till
             I
             die
             ,
             ielouzie
             is
             but
             a
             
             smart
             that
             torments
             a
             ielous
             hart
             ,
             Crowes
             
             are
             blacke
             that
             vvere
             vvhite
             ,
             for
             betraying
             
             loues
             delight
             .
             
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             HEro
             care
             not
             though
             they
             prie
             ,
             I
             vvill
             loue
             thee
             till
             I
             die
             ,
             ielouzie
             is
             but
             a
             
             smart
             that
             torments
             a
             ielous
             hart
             a
             ielous
             hart
             ,
             that
             vvere
             vvhite
             ,
             for
             betraying
             
             loues
             delight
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           IX
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             WHen
             loue
             and
             time
             and
             measure
             makes
             his
             ground
             ,
             time
             that
             must
             end
             
             
             though
             loue
             can
             neuer
             die
             ,
             t
             is
             loue
             betwixt
             a
             shadow
             and
             a
             sound
             ,
             a
             loue
             not
             in
             the
             
             
             hart
             but
             in
             the
             eie
             ,
             A
             loue
             that
             ebbes
             and
             flowes
             now
             vp
             now
             vp
             now
             downe
             now
             
             
             downe
             ,
             a
             mornings
             fauor
             and
             an
             euenings
             frowne
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Sweete
               lookes
               shew
               loue
               ,
               yet
               they
               are
               but
               as
               beames
               ,
            
             
               Faire
               wordes
               seeme
               true
               ,
               yet
               they
               are
               but
               as
               wind
               ,
            
             
               Eies
               shed
               their
               teares
               yet
               are
               but
               outward
               streames
               :
            
             
               Sighes
               paint
               a
               sadnes
               in
               the
               falsest
               minde
               .
            
             
               Lookes
               ,
               wordes
               ,
               teares
               ,
               sighes
               ,
               shew
               loue
               when
               loue
               they
               leaue
               ,
            
             
               False
               harts
               can
               weepe
               ,
               sigh
               ,
               sweare
               ,
               and
               yet
               deceiue
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHen
             loue
             on
             time
             and
             measure
             makes
             his
             ground
             ,
             time
             that
             must
             end
             though
             loue
             can
             
             neuer
             die
             can
             neuer
             die
             ,
             t
             is
             loue
             betwixt
             a
             shadow
             and
             a
             sound
             ,
             a
             loue
             not
             in
             the
             hart
             but
             
             in
             the
             eie
             ,
             a
             loue
             that
             ebbes
             a
             loue
             that
             ebbes
             and
             flowes
             now
             vp
             now
             
             downe
             ,
             ii
             .
             a
             mornings
             fauor
             and
             an
             euenings
             frowne
             ,
             and
             an
             euenings
             frowne
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHen
             loue
             on
             time
             and
             measure
             makes
             his
             
             ground
             ,
             time
             that
             must
             end
             though
             loue
             can
             neuer
             
             die
             ,
             t
             is
             loue
             betwixt
             a
             shadow
             and
             a
             sound
             ,
             a
             loue
             
             not
             in
             the
             hart
             but
             in
             the
             eie
             but
             in
             the
             eie
             ,
             a
             loue
             
             that
             ebs
             ,
             ii
             .
             that
             ebs
             and
             flows
             that
             ebs
             and
             
             flowes
             now
             vp
             now
             downe
             now
             downe
             a
             mor
             -
             
             nings
             fauor
             and
             an
             euenings
             frowne
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             WHen
             loue
             on
             time
             and
             measure
             makes
             his
             ground
             ,
             time
             that
             must
             end
             though
             loue
             can
             
             ne
             -
             uer
             die
             ,
             t
             is
             loue
             betwixt
             a
             shadow
             and
             a
             sound
             ,
             a
             loue
             not
             in
             the
             hart
             ,
             but
             in
             the
             eie
             ,
             a
             
             loue
             that
             ebbes
             a
             loue
             that
             ebbes
             and
             flowes
             now
             vp
             now
             downe
             now
             vp
             now
             downe
             ,
             ii
             .
             a
             mornings
             
             fauor
             ,
             ii
             .
             and
             an
             euenings
             frowne
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           X.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             SWeet
             come
             away
             my
             darling
             ,
             and
             sweetly
             let
             me
             heare
             thee
             sing
             ,
             
             
             come
             away
             ,
             ii
             .
             come
             away
             and
             bring
             my
             hart
             thou
             hast
             so
             fast
             in
             kee
             -
             
             
             ping
             :
             Come
             away
             ,
             ii.ii.
             and
             bring
             my
             hart
             thou
             hast
             so
             fast
             in
             keeping
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Oh
               fie
               vpon
               this
               long
               stay
               ,
            
             
               That
               thus
               my
               louing
               hopes
               delay
               :
            
             
               Come
               againe
               ,
               come
               againe
               ,
               ii
               .
               and
               say
               ,
            
             
               Sweet
               hart
               I
               le
               neuer
               more
               say
               thee
               nay
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Deere
               be
               not
               such
               a
               tyrant
               ,
            
             
               Still
               to
               reioice
               thee
               in
               my
               want
               :
            
             
               Come
               and
               doe
               ,
               come
               and
               doe
               ,
               ii
               .
               not
               scant
            
             
               Me
               of
               thy
               sight
               ,
               so
               faire
               and
               pleasant
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               VVhy
               hearst
               thou
               not
               his
               sighing
               ,
            
             
               VVhose
               voice
               all
               hoarce
               is
               with
               crying
               :
            
             
               Come
               and
               doe
               ,
               ii
               .
               come
               and
               doe
               something
               ,
            
             
               That
               may
               reuiue
               thy
               true
               loue
               dying
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               This
               is
               the
               pride
               of
               women
               ,
            
             
               That
               they
               make
               beggers
               of
               all
               men
               :
            
             
               VVe
               must
               sigh
               ,
               we
               must
               crie
               ,
               we
               must
               die
               ,
               and
               then
            
             
               Forsooth
               it
               may
               be
               they
               will
               hearken
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             SWeet
             come
             away
             my
             darling
             ,
             and
             sweetly
             let
             mee
             heare
             thee
             sing
             ,
             
             come
             away
             away
             ,
             come
             away
             ,
             come
             away
             and
             bring
             my
             hart
             thou
             hast
             so
             
             fast
             in
             keeping
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             SWeet
             come
             away
             my
             darling
             ,
             and
             
             sweetly
             let
             me
             heare
             thee
             sing
             ,
             come
             away
             ,
             
             come
             away
             ,
             come
             away
             &
             bring
             my
             hart
             thou
             
             hast
             so
             fast
             in
             keeping
             .
             
             
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             SWeete
             come
             away
             my
             darling
             ,
             and
             sweetly
             let
             mee
             heare
             thee
             
             sing
             ,
             come
             away
             away
             ,
             come
             away
             ,
             come
             away
             and
             bring
             my
             hart
             thou
             hast
             so
             
             fast
             in
             keeping
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XI
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             WOmen
             ,
             what
             are
             they
             what
             are
             they
             ,
             changing
             weather-cocks
             ,
             that
             
             
             smallest
             puffes
             ,
             that
             smallest
             puffes
             of
             lust
             haue
             power
             to
             turne
             ,
             women
             what
             are
             they
             ,
             ver
             -
             
             
             tues
             stum
             -
             bling
             blockes
             ,
             whereat
             weake
             fooles
             doe
             fall
             ,
             the
             wi
             -
             ser
             spurne
             ,
             wee
             
             
             men
             ,
             what
             are
             wee
             ,
             what
             are
             we
             ,
             fooles
             ,
             fooles
             ,
             fooles
             and
             idle
             boies
             ,
             to
             spend
             our
             
             
             time
             in
             spor
             -
             ting
             with
             such
             toies
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               VVomen
               what
               are
               they
               ?
               trees
               whose
               outward
               rinde
               ,
            
             
               Makes
               shew
               for
               faire
               when
               inward
               hart
               is
               hallow
               :
            
             
               Women
               what
               are
               they
               ?
               beasts
               of
               Hiaenaes
               kinde
               ,
            
             
               That
               speak
               those
               fairst
               ,
               whō
               most
               they
               mean
               to
               swallow
               :
            
             
               We
               men
               what
               are
               wee
               ?
               fooles
               and
               idle
               boies
               ,
            
             
               To
               spend
               our
               time
               in
               sporting
               with
               such
               toies
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               VVomen
               what
               are
               they
               ?
               rocks
               vpon
               the
               coast
               ,
            
             
               Where
               on
               we
               suffer
               shipwracke
               at
               our
               landing
               :
            
             
               Women
               what
               are
               they
               ?
               patient
               creatures
               most
               ,
            
             
               That
               rather
               yeld
               thē
               striue
               gainst
               ought
               withstāding
            
             
               We
               men
               what
               are
               wee
               ?
               fooles
               and
               idle
               boies
               ,
            
             
               To
               spend
               our
               time
               in
               sporting
               with
               such
               toies
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHat
             are
             they
             ,
             what
             are
             they
             ?
             changing
             weather-cocks
             ,
             that
             smallest
             puffes
             of
             lust
             of
             lust
             
             haue
             power
             to
             turne
             to
             turne
             ,
             women
             what
             are
             they
             ,
             vertues
             stumbling
             blocks
             ,
             ii
             .
             whereat
             
             weake
             fooles
             doe
             fall
             ,
             the
             wiser
             spurne
             ,
             wee
             men
             what
             are
             wee
             ,
             what
             are
             we
             fooles
             ,
             fooles
             &
             idle
             boies
             ,
             
             ii
             .
             that
             spend
             our
             time
             that
             spend
             our
             time
             ,
             in
             spor
             -
             ting
             with
             such
             toies
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHat
             are
             they
             ,
             what
             are
             they
             ,
             changing
             
             weather-cocks
             ,
             that
             smallest
             puffes
             ,
             that
             smallest
             
             puffes
             of
             lust
             hath
             power
             to
             turne
             ,
             women
             what
             are
             
             they
             ?
             vertues
             stumbling
             blocks
             ,
             whereat
             weake
             fooles
             
             doe
             fall
             ,
             the
             wiser
             spurne
             ,
             we
             men
             what
             are
             we
             ,
             what
             
             are
             we
             fools
             &
             idle
             boies
             ,
             fooles
             fooles
             and
             idle
             idle
             
             boies
             ,
             that
             spēd
             our
             time
             ,
             ii
             .
             in
             sporting
             with
             such
             toies
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             WHat
             are
             they
             what
             are
             they
             ,
             changing
             weather-cocks
             ,
             that
             smallest
             puffes
             of
             lust
             haue
             
             power
             to
             turne
             to
             turne
             ,
             women
             what
             are
             they
             ?
             vertues
             stumbling
             blocks
             ,
             stumbling
             blocks
             ,
             whereat
             
             weake
             fooles
             doe
             fall
             ,
             the
             wiser
             spurne
             ,
             we
             men
             ,
             what
             are
             we
             ?
             we
             men
             ,
             what
             are
             we
             ?
             fooles
             and
             idle
             
             boies
             ,
             ii
             .
             that
             spend
             our
             time
             ,
             ii
             .
             in
             sporting
             with
             such
             toies
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             FArewel
             dear
             loue
             since
             thou
             wilt
             needs
             be
             gon
             ,
             mine
             eies
             do
             shew
             my
             
             
             life
             is
             almost
             done
             ,
             nay
             I
             will
             neuer
             die
             ,
             so
             long
             as
             I
             can
             spie
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             though
             that
             she
             do
             
             
             go
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             I
             feare
             not
             ,
             why
             then
             let
             her
             goe
             I
             care
             not
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Farewell
               ,
               farewell
               ,
               since
               this
               I
               finde
               is
               true
               ,
            
             
               I
               will
               not
               spend
               more
               time
               in
               wooing
               you
               :
            
             
               But
               I
               will
               seeke
               els
               where
               ,
            
             
               If
               I
               may
               find
               her
               there
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               I
               bid
               her
               goe
               ,
            
             
               What
               and
               if
               I
               doe
               ?
            
             
               Shall
               I
               bid
               her
               go
               and
               spare
               not
               ,
            
             
               O
               no
               no
               no
               no
               I
               dare
               not
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Ten
               thousand
               times
               farewell
               ,
               yet
               stay
               a
               while
               ,
            
             
               Sweet
               kisse
               me
               once
               ,
               sweet
               kisses
               time
               beguile
               :
            
             
               I
               haue
               no
               power
               to
               moue
               ,
            
             
               How
               now
               ,
               am
               I
               in
               loue
               ?
            
             
               Wilt
               thou
               needs
               be
               gone
               ?
            
             
               Go
               then
               ,
               all
               is
               one
               ,
            
             
               Wilt
               thou
               needs
               be
               gone
               ?
               oh
               hie
               thee
               ,
            
             
               Nay
               ,
               stay
               and
               doe
               no
               more
               denie
               mee
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               Once
               more
               farewell
               ,
               I
               see
               loth
               to
               depart
               ,
            
             
               Bids
               oft
               adew
               to
               her
               that
               holdes
               my
               hart
               :
            
             
               But
               seeing
               I
               must
               loose
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               loue
               which
               I
               did
               chuse
               :
            
             
               Go
               thy
               waies
               for
               me
               ,
            
             
               Since
               it
               may
               not
               be
               ,
            
             
               Go
               thy
               waies
               for
               me
               ,
               but
               whither
               ?
            
             
               Go
               ,
               oh
               but
               where
               I
               may
               come
               thither
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               What
               shall
               I
               doe
               ?
               my
               loue
               is
               now
               departed
               ,
            
             
               Shee
               is
               as
               faire
               as
               shee
               is
               cruell
               harted
               :
            
             
               Shee
               would
               not
               be
               intreated
               ,
            
             
               With
               praiers
               oft
               repeated
               :
            
             
               If
               shee
               come
               no
               more
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               I
               die
               therefore
               ,
            
             
               If
               shee
               come
               no
               more
               ,
               what
               care
               I
               ?
            
             
               Faith
               ,
               let
               her
               go
               ,
               or
               come
               ,
               or
               tarry
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             FArewell
             deare
             loue
             since
             thou
             wilt
             needs
             be
             gone
             ,
             my
             eies
             doe
             shew
             my
             life
             
             is
             almost
             done
             ,
             yet
             I
             will
             neuer
             die
             ,
             so
             long
             as
             I
             can
             spie
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             ,
             though
             that
             
             shee
             doe
             go
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             I
             feare
             not
             ,
             why
             then
             let
             her
             go
             I
             care
             not
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             FArewell
             deare
             loue
             since
             thou
             
             wilt
             needs
             be
             gone
             ,
             my
             eies
             doe
             shew
             my
             
             life
             is
             almost
             done
             ,
             yet
             I
             will
             neuer
             die
             ,
             
             so
             long
             as
             I
             can
             spie
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             ,
             
             though
             that
             she
             doe
             go
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             
             I
             feare
             not
             ,
             why
             then
             let
             her
             go
             ,
             I
             
             care
             not
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             FArewell
             deare
             loue
             since
             thou
             wilt
             needs
             be
             gone
             ,
             my
             eies
             doe
             shew
             my
             life
             
             is
             almost
             done
             ,
             yet
             I
             will
             neuer
             die
             ,
             so
             long
             as
             I
             can
             spie
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             ,
             though
             that
             
             she
             doe
             go
             ,
             there
             be
             many
             mo
             I
             feare
             not
             ,
             why
             then
             let
             her
             go
             I
             care
             not
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XIII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             O
             My
             poore
             eies
             that
             sun
             whose
             shine
             late
             gaue
             you
             light
             doth
             
             
             now
             decline
             and
             set
             to
             you
             to
             others
             riseth
             ,
             she
             who
             would
             sooner
             die
             then
             change
             ,
             
             
             not
             fearing
             death
             delights
             to
             range
             ,
             and
             now
             O
             now
             O
             now
             my
             soule
             despiseth
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Yet
               O
               my
               hart
               thy
               state
               is
               blest
               ,
            
             
               To
               finde
               out
               rest
               in
               thy
               vnrest
               :
            
             
               Since
               thou
               her
               slaue
               no
               more
               remainest
               ,
            
             
               For
               shee
               that
               bound
               thee
               sets
               thee
               free
               ,
            
             
               Then
               when
               shee
               first
               forsaketh
               thee
               :
            
             
               Such
               O
               such
               right
               by
               wrong
               thou
               gainest
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Eies
               gaze
               no
               more
               ,
               heart
               learne
               to
               hate
               ,
            
             
               Experience
               tels
               you
               all
               too
               late
               :
            
             
               Fond
               womans
               loue
               with
               faith
               still
               warreth
               ,
            
             
               While
               true
               desert
               speakes
               ,
               writes
               and
               giues
               ,
            
             
               Some
               groome
               the
               bargaine
               neerer
               driues
               :
            
             
               And
               he
               ,
               O
               he
               the
               market
               marreth
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             O
             my
             poore
             eies
             that
             sunne
             whose
             shine
             late
             gaue
             you
             light
             doth
             now
             
             decline
             and
             set
             to
             you
             to
             others
             riseth
             shee
             who
             would
             sooner
             die
             then
             change
             not
             
             fearing
             death
             delights
             to
             range
             ,
             and
             now
             O
             now
             ,
             ii
             .
             my
             loue
             despiseth
             and
             
             now
             O
             now
             ,
             ii
             .
             my
             loue
             despiseth
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             O
             my
             poore
             eies
             that
             sun
             whose
             shine
             
             late
             gaue
             you
             light
             doth
             now
             decline
             &
             set
             to
             
             you
             to
             others
             riseth
             shee
             who
             would
             sooner
             die
             
             then
             change
             not
             fearing
             death
             delights
             to
             range
             ,
             
             and
             now
             now
             O
             now
             ,
             ii.ii.
             my
             loue
             
             despiseth
             &
             now
             now
             O
             now
             ,
             ii.ii.
             my
             
             loue
             despiseth
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             O
             my
             poore
             eies
             that
             sunne
             whose
             shine
             late
             gaue
             you
             light
             doth
             now
             
             de
             -
             cline
             and
             set
             to
             you
             to
             others
             riseth
             she
             who
             would
             soo
             -
             ner
             die
             then
             change
             not
             
             fearing
             death
             delights
             to
             range
             and
             now
             O
             now
             ,
             ii
             .
             my
             loue
             de
             -
             spiseth
             and
             now
             
             O
             now
             ,
             ii
             .
             my
             loue
             de
             -
             spiseth
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XIIII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             IF
             fathers
             knew
             but
             how
             to
             leaue
             their
             children
             wit
             as
             
             
             they
             do
             wealth
             ,
             &
             could
             constraine
             them
             to
             receiue
             that
             physicke
             which
             brings
             perfect
             
             
             health
             ,
             the
             world
             would
             not
             admiring
             stand
             ,
             a
             womans
             face
             ,
             a
             womās
             face
             and
             
             
             womans
             hand
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Women
               confesse
               they
               must
               obey
               ,
            
             
               We
               men
               will
               needes
               be
               seruants
               still
               :
            
             
               We
               kisse
               their
               hands
               and
               what
               they
               say
               ,
            
             
               We
               must
               commend
               bee
               't
               neuer
               so
               ill
               .
            
             
               Thus
               we
               like
               fooles
               admiring
               stand
               ,
            
             
               Her
               pretty
               foote
               and
               pretty
               hand
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               We
               blame
               their
               pride
               which
               we
               increase
               ,
            
             
               By
               making
               mountaines
               of
               a
               mouse
               :
            
             
               We
               praise
               because
               we
               know
               we
               please
               ,
            
             
               Poore
               women
               are
               too
               credulous
               .
            
             
               To
               thinke
               that
               we
               admiring
               stand
               ,
            
             
               Or
               foote
               ,
               or
               face
               ,
               or
               foolish
               hand
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             IF
             fathers
             knew
             but
             how
             to
             leaue
             their
             children
             wit
             as
             they
             doe
             wealth
             ,
             and
             
             could
             constraine
             them
             to
             receiue
             that
             physicke
             which
             brings
             perfect
             health
             ,
             the
             world
             
             would
             not
             admiring
             stand
             ,
             ii
             .
             a
             womans
             face
             ,
             ii
             .
             and
             womans
             hand
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             IF
             fathers
             knew
             but
             how
             to
             
             leaue
             their
             children
             wit
             as
             they
             do
             vvealth
             ,
             
             and
             could
             constraine
             them
             to
             receiue
             that
             
             physicke
             vvhich
             brings
             perfect
             health
             ,
             the
             
             vvorld
             would
             not
             admiring
             stand
             ,
             ii
             .
             
             a
             vvomans
             face
             ,
             ii
             .
             and
             
             vvomans
             hand
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             IF
             fathers
             knew
             but
             how
             to
             leaue
             their
             children
             wit
             as
             they
             do
             vvealth
             ,
             and
             
             could
             constraine
             them
             to
             receiue
             that
             physicke
             vvhich
             brings
             perfect
             health
             ,
             the
             vvorld
             
             vvould
             not
             admiring
             stand
             ,
             a
             vvomans
             face
             ,
             ii.ii.
             and
             vvomans
             hand
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XV.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             LIfe
             is
             a
             Poets
             fable
             ,
             &
             al
             her
             daies
             are
             lies
             stolne
             
             
             from
             deaths
             reckoning
             table
             ,
             for
             I
             die
             for
             I
             die
             as
             I
             speake
             ,
             death
             
             
             times
             the
             notes
             that
             I
             doe
             breake
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Childhood
               doth
               die
               in
               youth
               ,
            
             
               And
               youth
               in
               old
               age
               dies
               ,
            
             
               I
               thought
               I
               liu'd
               in
               truth
               :
            
             
               But
               I
               die
               ,
               ii
               .
               now
               I
               see
               ,
            
             
               Each
               age
               of
               death
               makes
               one
               degree
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Farewell
               the
               doting
               score
               ,
            
             
               Of
               worlds
               arithmeticke
               ,
            
             
               Life
               ,
               I
               le
               trust
               thee
               no
               more
               ,
            
             
               Till
               I
               die
               ,
               ii
               .
               for
               thy
               sake
               ,
            
             
               I
               le
               go
               by
               deaths
               new
               almanacke
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               This
               instant
               of
               my
               song
               ,
            
             
               A
               thousand
               men
               lie
               sicke
               ,
            
             
               A
               thousand
               knels
               are
               rong
               :
            
             
               And
               I
               die
               as
               they
               sing
               ,
            
             
               They
               are
               but
               dead
               and
               I
               dying
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               Death
               is
               but
               lifes
               decay
               ,
            
             
               Life
               time
               ,
               time
               wastes
               away
               ,
            
             
               Then
               reason
               bids
               me
               say
               ,
            
             
               That
               I
               die
               ,
               though
               my
               breath
            
             
               Prolongs
               this
               space
               of
               lingring
               death
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             LIfe
             is
             a
             Poets
             fable
             ,
             and
             all
             her
             daies
             are
             lies
             stolne
             from
             deaths
             
             reckning
             table
             ,
             ii
             .
             for
             I
             die
             as
             I
             speake
             death
             times
             the
             noates
             which
             I
             doe
             
             breake
             ,
             which
             I
             doe
             breake
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             LIfe
             is
             a
             Poets
             fable
             ,
             and
             all
             her
             
             daies
             are
             lies
             stolne
             frō
             deaths
             reckning
             
             ta
             -
             ble
             for
             I
             die
             as
             I
             speake
             death
             times
             the
             
             noates
             ,
             ii
             .
             which
             I
             doe
             breake
             .
             
             
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             LIfe
             is
             a
             Poets
             fable
             ,
             and
             all
             her
             daies
             are
             lies
             stolne
             from
             deaths
             reckning
             
             table
             for
             I
             die
             for
             I
             die
             ,
             for
             I
             die
             as
             I
             speake
             ,
             ii
             .
             death
             times
             the
             noates
             which
             
             I
             doe
             breake
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XVI
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             SWeet
             Philomell
             in
             groaues
             and
             desarts
             haunting
             ,
             oft
             glads
             my
             
             
             hart
             and
             eares
             with
             her
             sweet
             chaunting
             ,
             but
             then
             her
             tunes
             delight
             me
             best
             ,
             when
             pearcht
             with
             
             
             prick
             against
             her
             breast
             against
             her
             breast
             ,
             shee
             sings
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             as
             
             
             if
             shee
             suffred
             wrong
             till
             seeming
             pleas'd
             sweete
             sweete
             ,
             ii.ii.
             sweete
             ,
             ii
             .
             
             
             ii
             .
             sweete
             sweete
             concludes
             her
             song
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Sweete
               Iinny
               singes
               and
               talkes
               and
               sweetly
               smileth
               ,
            
             
               And
               with
               her
               wanton
               mirth
               my
               griefes
               beguileth
               :
            
             
               But
               then
               me
               thinkes
               shee
               pleaseth
               best
               ,
            
             
               When
               ,
               while
               my
               hands
               moue
               loues
               request
               .
            
             
               Shee
               cries
               phy
               ,
               phy
               ,
               ii
               .
               and
               seeming
               loath
               gainsaies
               ,
            
             
               Till
               better
               pleas'd
               sweete
               sweete
               content
               bewraies
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             SWeet
             Philomel
             sweet
             Philomel
             in
             groaues
             &
             desarts
             haunting
             ,
             oft
             glads
             my
             hart
             &
             eares
             with
             
             her
             sweet
             chaunting
             ,
             but
             then
             her
             tunes
             delight
             me
             best
             delight
             me
             best
             when
             pearcht
             with
             prick
             against
             her
             
             breast
             against
             her
             breast
             she
             sings
             fie
             ,
             ii
             .
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             as
             if
             she
             suffered
             wrong
             til
             seeming
             pleasd
             ,
             ii
             .
             
             sweet
             sweet
             sweet
             ,
             ii
             .
             till
             seeming
             pleasd
             sweet
             sweet
             sweet
             ,
             ii
             .
             sweet
             sweet
             concludes
             her
             song
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             SWeet
             Philomel
             in
             groues
             &
             desarts
             hāting
             
             oft
             glads
             my
             hart
             and
             eares
             with
             her
             sweet
             chanting
             
             but
             then
             her
             tunes
             delight
             delight
             me
             best
             when
             percht
             
             with
             pricke
             against
             her
             breast
             against
             her
             breast
             she
             
             sings
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             she
             ,
             ii
             .
             as
             if
             she
             suffred
             wrong
             
             till
             seeming
             pleasd
             sweet
             ,
             s.
             s.
             s.
             till
             seeming
             pleasd
             
             sweete
             ,
             s.
             s.
             s.
             sweet
             sweet
             ,
             ii.ii.
             sweete
             sweete
             
             sweet
             concludes
             her
             song
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             SWeet
             Philomel
             sweet
             Philomel
             in
             groaues
             &
             de
             -
             sarts
             haunting
             oft
             glads
             my
             hart
             &
             eares
             with
             
             her
             sweet
             chaunting
             ,
             but
             then
             her
             tunes
             delight
             me
             best
             delight
             me
             best
             when
             percht
             with
             prick
             against
             her
             breast
             
             against
             her
             breast
             she
             sings
             fie
             ,
             ii
             .
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             fie
             as
             if
             she
             suffred
             wrong
             till
             seeming
             pleasd
             sweet
             sweet
             sweet
             
             sweet
             ,
             ii
             .
             till
             seeming
             pleasd
             sweet
             sweet
             sweet
             ,
             ii
             .
             ii.ii
             .
             sweet
             sweet
             concludes
             her
             song
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XVII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             THat
             hart
             wherein
             all
             sorrowes
             doth
             abound
             ,
             lies
             in
             this
             breast
             ,
             
             
             and
             cries
             alowd
             for
             death
             ,
             O
             blame
             not
             her
             when
             I
             am
             vnder
             ground
             ,
             
             
             that
             scor
             -
             ning
             wisht
             ,
             ii
             .
             that
             scor
             -
             ning
             
             
             wisht
             t'
             out
             -
             liue
             my
             panting
             breath
             ,
             O
             doe
             not
             her
             despise
             ,
             but
             let
             my
             death
             suffice
             ,
             ii
             .
             
             
             to
             make
             all
             young
             men
             wise
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               My
               louing
               hopes
               prolongd
               my
               lothed
               life
               ,
            
             
               Till
               that
               my
               life
               grew
               lothsome
               to
               my
               lou'd
               ,
            
             
               Then
               death
               and
               I
               were
               at
               no
               longer
               strife
               :
            
             
               And
               I
               was
               glad
               my
               death
               her
               wish
               approu'd
               .
            
             
               O
               let
               not
               her
               be
               shent
               ,
            
             
               Yet
               let
               my
               president
               ,
            
             
               Make
               womans
               harts
               relent
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             THat
             hart
             wherein
             all
             sorrowes
             doth
             abound
             ,
             lies
             in
             this
             breast
             this
             breast
             and
             cries
             
             alowd
             for
             death
             ,
             O
             blame
             not
             her
             when
             I
             am
             vnder
             ground
             vnder
             ground
             ,
             that
             scor
             -
             ning
             
             wisht
             ,
             ii
             .
             that
             scor
             -
             ning
             wisht
             t'outliue
             my
             panting
             breath
             ,
             O
             doe
             not
             her
             despise
             O
             doe
             
             not
             her
             despise
             but
             let
             my
             death
             suffice
             ,
             ii
             .
             to
             make
             all
             young
             men
             wise
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             THat
             hart
             wherein
             all
             sorrowes
             doth
             abound
             
             lies
             in
             this
             breast
             and
             cries
             alowd
             for
             death
             ,
             O
             
             blame
             not
             her
             when
             I
             am
             vnder
             ground
             ,
             that
             
             scor
             -
             ning
             wisht
             ,
             ii.ii.
             
             
             that
             scor
             -
             ning
             wisht
             t'outliue
             my
             panting
             breath
             ,
             
             O
             doe
             not
             her
             despise
             but
             let
             my
             death
             suffice
             to
             
             make
             all
             young
             men
             wise
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             THat
             hart
             wherein
             all
             sorrowes
             doth
             abound
             ,
             lies
             in
             this
             breast
             ,
             ii
             .
             and
             cries
             
             alowd
             for
             death
             ,
             O
             blame
             not
             her
             when
             I
             am
             vn
             -
             der
             ground
             ,
             ii
             .
             that
             scor
             -
             ning
             
             wisht
             ,
             ii.ii.
             t'outliue
             my
             panting
             breath
             ,
             O
             doe
             not
             her
             despise
             ,
             but
             let
             my
             
             death
             let
             my
             death
             ,
             but
             let
             my
             death
             suffice
             to
             make
             all
             young
             men
             wise
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XVIII
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             WHat
             if
             I
             seeke
             for
             loue
             of
             thee
             ,
             shall
             I
             find
             beauty
             kind
             to
             de-sert
             But
             if
             I
             sue
             and
             liue
             forlorne
             ,
             then
             alasse
             neuer
             was
             any
             wretch
             
             
             that
             still
             shall
             dwell
             in
             mee
             .
             Though
             thy
             lookes
             haue
             charmd
             mine
             eies
             ,
             I
             can
             forbeare
             to
             to
             more
             mis-for
             -
             tune
             borne
             .
             
             
             loue
             ,
             but
             if
             euer
             sweete
             desire
             set
             my
             wofull
             hart
             on
             fire
             then
             can
             I
             neuer
             remoue
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Frowne
               not
               on
               me
               vnlesse
               thou
               hate
               ,
            
             
               For
               thy
               frowne
               cast
               me
               downe
            
             
               To
               despaire
               of
               my
               most
               haplesse
               state
               :
            
             
               Smile
               not
               on
               me
               vnlesse
               thou
               loue
               ,
            
             
               For
               thy
               smile
               ,
               will
               beguile
            
             
               My
               desires
               if
               thou
               vnsteedfast
               proue
               :
            
             
               If
               thou
               needs
               wilt
               bend
               thy
               browes
               ,
            
             
               A
               while
               refraine
               my
               deare
               ,
            
             
               But
               if
               thou
               wilt
               smile
               on
               me
               ,
            
             
               Let
               it
               not
               delayed
               be
               ,
            
             
               Comfort
               is
               neuer
               too
               neare
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHat
             if
             I
             seeke
             for
             loue
             of
             thee
             ,
             shall
             I
             find
             beauty
             kind
             to
             de
             -
             sert
             that
             still
             shall
             But
             if
             I
             sue
             and
             liue
             forlorne
             ,
             then
             alasse
             neuer
             was
             any
             wretch
             to
             more
             mis
             -
             
             dwell
             in
             mee
             .
             Though
             thy
             lookes
             hath
             charmd
             mine
             eies
             I
             can
             forbeare
             to
             loue
             ,
             but
             if
             euer
             sweet
             for
             -
             tune
             borne
             .
             
             desire
             burne
             my
             wofull
             hart
             then
             can
             I
             neuer
             remoue
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             WHat
             if
             I
             seeke
             for
             loue
             of
             thee
             ,
             But
             if
             I
             sue
             and
             liue
             forlorne
             ,
             
             shall
             I
             find
             beauty
             kind
             to
             de
             -
             sert
             that
             still
             shall
             then
             alasse
             neuer
             was
             any
             wretch
             to
             more
             mis
             -
             
             dwell
             in
             mee
             .
             Though
             thy
             lookes
             haue
             charmd
             fortune
             borne
             .
             
             mine
             eies
             I
             can
             forbeare
             to
             loue
             ,
             but
             if
             
             desire
             set
             my
             wofull
             hart
             on
             fire
             then
             I
             can
             
             neuer
             remoue
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             WHat
             if
             I
             seeke
             for
             loue
             of
             thee
             ,
             shall
             I
             find
             beauty
             kinde
             to
             de
             -
             sert
             that
             still
             shall
             But
             if
             I
             sue
             and
             liue
             forlorne
             ,
             then
             alasse
             neuer
             was
             any
             wretch
             to
             more
             mis
             -
             
             dwell
             in
             mee
             .
             Though
             thy
             lookes
             haue
             charmd
             my
             eies
             I
             can
             forbeare
             to
             loue
             ,
             but
             if
             euer
             sweete
             for
             -
             tune
             borne
             
             desire
             set
             my
             wofull
             hart
             on
             fire
             then
             I
             can
             neuer
             remoue
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XIX
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             MY
             Mistris
             sings
             no
             other
             song
             but
             stil
             complains
             I
             
             
             did
             her
             wrong
             ,
             beleeue
             her
             not
             it
             was
             not
             so
             ,
             I
             did
             but
             kis
             her
             ,
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             her
             and
             
             
             let
             her
             goe
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               And
               now
               she
               sweares
               I
               did
               ,
               but
               what
               ,
            
             
               Nay
               ,
               nay
               ,
               I
               must
               not
               tell
               you
               that
               :
            
             
               And
               yet
               I
               will
               it
               is
               so
               sweete
               ,
            
             
               As
               teehee
               tahha
               when
               louers
               meete
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               But
               womens
               words
               they
               are
               heedlesse
               ,
            
             
               To
               tell
               you
               more
               it
               is
               needlesse
               ▪
            
             
               I
               ranne
               and
               caught
               her
               by
               the
               arme
               ,
            
             
               And
               then
               I
               kist
               her
               ,
               this
               was
               no
               harme
               .
            
          
           
             
               4
            
             
               But
               shee
               alas
               is
               angrie
               still
               ,
            
             
               Which
               sheweth
               but
               a
               womans
               will
               :
            
             
               She
               bites
               the
               lippe
               and
               cries
               fie
               fie
               ,
            
             
               And
               kissing
               sweetly
               away
               shee
               doth
               flie
               .
            
          
           
             
               5
            
             
               Yet
               sure
               her
               lookes
               bewraies
               content
               ▪
            
             
               And
               cunningly
               her
               brales
               are
               meant
               :
            
             
               As
               louers
               vse
               to
               play
               and
               sport
               ,
            
             
               When
               time
               and
               leisure
               is
               too
               too
               short
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             MY
             Mistris
             sings
             no
             o
             -
             ther
             song
             but
             stil
             complains
             I
             did
             her
             
             wrong
             ,
             beleeue
             her
             not
             it
             was
             not
             so
             ,
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             her
             ,
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             her
             and
             
             let
             her
             goe
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             MY
             Mistris
             sings
             no
             other
             song
             
             but
             still
             com
             -
             plaines
             I
             did
             her
             wrong
             ,
             
             beleeue
             her
             not
             it
             was
             not
             so
             ,
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             
             her
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             her
             and
             let
             
             her
             goe
             
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             MY
             Mistris
             singes
             no
             o
             -
             ther
             song
             but
             still
             complaines
             I
             did
             her
             
             wrong
             ,
             beleeue
             her
             not
             it
             was
             not
             so
             ,
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             her
             I
             did
             but
             kisse
             her
             and
             
             let
             her
             goe
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XX.
           
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             PErplexed
             perplexed
             sore
             am
             I
             ,
             thine
             eies
             fair
             loue
             like
             Phebus
             
             
             brightest
             beames
             doth
             set
             my
             hart
             on
             fire
             and
             daze
             my
             sight
             ,
             yet
             doe
             I
             liue
             
             
             by
             vertue
             of
             those
             beames
             ,
             for
             when
             thy
             face
             is
             hid
             comes
             feare
             -
             full
             night
             and
             I
             am
             like
             to
             
             
             die
             ,
             then
             since
             my
             eies
             can
             not
             indure
             so
             heauenly
             sparke
             ,
             sweet
             grant
             that
             I
             may
             stil
             feele
             out
             feele
             
             
             out
             my
             loue
             by
             darke
             .
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               So
               Shall
               I
               ioyfull
               bee
               ,
            
             
               Each
               thing
               on
               earth
               that
               liueth
               by
               the
               sunne
               :
            
             
               Would
               die
               if
               he
               in
               glorie
               still
               appeare
               ,
            
             
               Then
               let
               some
               cloudes
               of
               pitty
               ouerrunne
            
             
               That
               glorious
               face
               ,
               that
               I
               with
               liuely
               cheere
               ,
            
             
               May
               stand
               vp
               before
               thee
               .
            
             
               Or
               ,
               Since
               mine
               eies
               cannot
               endure
               so
               heauenly
               sparke
               ,
            
             
               Sweet
               grant
               that
               I
               may
               still
               feele
               out
               my
               loue
               by
               darke
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             PErplexed
             thine
             eies
             faire
             loue
             like
             Phebus
             brightest
             beams
             doth
             set
             my
             hart
             
             on
             fire
             and
             daze
             my
             sight
             daze
             my
             sight
             yet
             doe
             I
             liue
             by
             vertue
             of
             those
             beames
             for
             when
             thy
             face
             is
             
             hid
             comes
             fearefull
             night
             ,
             then
             since
             mine
             eies
             can
             not
             indure
             so
             heauenly
             sparke
             ,
             sweete
             
             grant
             that
             I
             may
             still
             feele
             out
             feele
             out
             my
             loue
             by
             darke
             .
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             PErplexed
             thine
             eies
             faire
             
             loue
             like
             Phebus
             brightest
             beames
             do
             set
             my
             hart
             on
             
             fire
             and
             daze
             my
             sight
             ,
             yet
             doe
             I
             liue
             by
             vertue
             of
             
             those
             beames
             for
             when
             thy
             face
             is
             hid
             comes
             
             fearefull
             night
             ,
             then
             since
             mine
             
             eies
             can
             not
             indure
             so
             heauenly
             sparke
             ,
             sweet
             grant
             
             that
             I
             may
             still
             feele
             out
             may
             still
             feele
             out
             my
             loue
             
             by
             darke
             .
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             PErplexed
             thine
             eies
             faire
             loue
             like
             Phebus
             brightest
             beams
             ,
             ii
             .
             doth
             
             set
             my
             hart
             on
             fire
             and
             daze
             my
             sight
             ,
             yet
             doe
             I
             liue
             by
             vertue
             of
             those
             beames
             for
             when
             thy
             face
             is
             
             hid
             comes
             fearefull
             night
             ,
             then
             since
             thine
             eies
             can
             not
             indure
             so
             heauenly
             sparke
             ,
             sweet
             
             grant
             that
             I
             may
             still
             feele
             out
             ,
             ii
             .
             my
             loue
             by
             darke
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           XXI
           .
        
         
           
             CANTVS
          
           
             
             CAn
             modest
             plaine
             desire
             to
             the
             ioies
             of
             loue
             aspire
             ?
             Can
             worthi
             -
             nesse
             procure
             more
             then
             har
             -
             di
             -
             nesse
             assure
             ?
             
             
             no
             no
             no
             ,
             ii
             .
             no
             no
             no
             where
             feare
             of
             each
             frowne
             ,
             takes
             hopes
             
             
             height
             downe
             a
             downe
             d.d.d.
             downe
             ,
             takes
             hopes
             height
             downe
             a
             downe
             d.
             d.
             d.
             downe
             .
             
             
          
           
             
               2
            
             
               Granting
               is
               so
               eschew'd
               ,
            
             
               Least
               the
               grant
               lie
               vnpursued
               :
            
             
               Least
               sutors
               brag
               they
               might
               ,
            
             
               And
               account
               the
               grantors
               light
               :
            
             
               No
               no
               no
               is
               a
               weake
               defence
               growne
               ,
            
             
               Till
               force
               beare
               downe
               downe
               a
               downe
               .
            
          
           
             
               3
            
             
               Yet
               who
               would
               staine
               loues
               seate
               ,
            
             
               With
               a
               blot
               of
               such
               a
               feate
               :
            
             
               Or
               for
               so
               vile
               a
               toy
               ,
            
             
               Ioine
               repentance
               with
               his
               ioy
               .
            
             
               No
               no
               no
               her
               vertue
               well
               knowne
               ,
            
             
               Beates
               vaine
               thoughts
               downe
               downe
               a
               downe
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             ALTVS
             .
          
           
             
             CAn
             modest
             plaine
             de
             -
             sire
             to
             the
             ioies
             of
             loue
             aspire
             ,
             No
             no
             no
             ,
             ii
             .
             Can
             worthi
             -
             nesse
             procure
             more
             then
             har
             -
             dinesse
             assure
             ,
             
             no
             no
             no
             is
             a
             weake
             defence
             growne
             ,
             till
             force
             beare
             downe
             ,
             ii
             .
             a
             downe
             till
             force
             
             beare
             downe
             downe
             downe
             downe
             a
             downe
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             BASSVS
             .
          
           
             
             CAn
             modest
             plaine
             desire
             to
             the
             Can
             worthi
             -
             nesse
             procure
             more
             then
             
             ioies
             of
             loue
             aspire
             ,
             No
             no
             no
             ,
             ii
             .
             no
             har
             -
             dinesse
             assure
             ,
             
             no
             no
             is
             a
             weake
             defence
             growne
             ,
             till
             force
             
             beare
             downe
             do
             .
             d.
             a
             d.
             d.
             d.
             downe
             till
             force
             
             beare
             downe
             do
             .
             d.
             a
             d.
             d.
             d.
             d.
             downe
             .
             
             
          
        
         
           
             TENOR
             .
          
           
             
             CAn
             modest
             plaine
             desire
             to
             the
             ioies
             of
             loue
             aspire
             ,
             No
             no
             no
             ,
             ii
             .
             Can
             worthi
             -
             nesse
             procure
             more
             then
             har
             -
             dinesse
             assure
             ,
             
             No
             no
             no
             is
             a
             weake
             defence
             till
             force
             beare
             downe
             downe
             a
             d.
             a
             d.
             d.
             downe
             till
             force
             beare
             
             downe
             a
             d.
             a
             d.
             d.
             a
             downe
             .
             
          
        
      
       
         FINIS
         .
      
    
     
  

