CASSANDRA

Aye me, unhappy wench that I must live the day, To see Andrugio tymeles die, my brother and my stay. The only mean, God wot. that should our house advance, Who in the hope of his good hap, must die through wanton chance: Oh blind affects in love, whose torments none can tell, Yet wantous will hide fire, and frost, yea hazard death, nay hell: To taste thy sour sweet fruits, The force of love. digested Still with care, Foul fallen thee love, thy lightning joys, hath blasted my welfare Thou fyerst affection First, within my brother's breast. Thou madest Polina grau ̄ to him (erst) even what he would request: Thou madest him crave and have, a proof of Venus meed, For which foul act he is adjudged, ear long to loose his head. The law is so severe, in scourging fleshly sin, As marriage to work after mends does seldom favour win. A law first made of zeal, but wrested much amiss Faults should be measured by desert, A good law ill executed, but all is one in this, The lecher fyerd with lust, is punished no more, Then he which fell through force of love, whose marriage salves his soar: So that poor I despair, of my Audrugios life, Oh would my days might end with his, for to appease my strife. I see two thralls, sweet seems a little joy, For fancies free, Andrugios breast hath scope: But least detract, does raise a new annoy, I now will seek to turn, to happen his hope. See, as I wished, Lord Promos is in place, Now in my suts, God grant I may find grace. ¶ Renowned Lord, whilst life in me does last, In homage bonds, I bind my self to thee: And though I did thy goodness lately taste, Yet once again, on knees I mercy seek: In his behalf, that hangs tween death and life; Who Still is preast, if you the mends do leek: His lawless love, to make his lawful wife. Who calls Cassandra? How so intent, is construed in offence, The Proverb says that ten good turns lie dead, And one ill deed, ten times beyond pretence, By envious tongues, report abroad does spread: Andrugio so, my fame, shall vallewed be, Despite will blaze my crime, but not the cause: And thus although I fain would set Thee free, Poor wench I fear, the gripe of slanders paws. Andrugio, Oh dismal day, what griefs, do Me assail? Condemned wretch to see thee here, fast fettered now in Jail, Now haps thy wits were witched so, y e knowing death was meed Thou wouldst commit (to stay us both) this vile lascivious deed. I will not fail to plead and pray, to purchase the mercy, Farewell a while, God grant me well to speed. O happy time, see where Lord Promos coms? Now tongue address thy self, my mind to wray. And yet least haste work waste, I hold it best, In covert, for some advantage, to stay. Oh cruel words they make my heart to bleed, Now, now, I must, this dome seek to revoke, Least grace come short, when starved is the steed: Most mighty Lord, & worthy Judge, thy iudgeme ̄ to sharp abate, Veil thou thine ears, to hear the plaint, that wretched I relate, Behold the woeful Sister here, of poor Andrugio, Whom though that law awardeth death, yet mercy do him show: Way his young years, the force of love, which forced his amiss, Way, way, that Marriage, works amends, for what committed is, He hath defiled no nuptial bed, nor forced rape hath moved, He fell through love, who never meant, but wive y e wight he loved. And uva ̄ tons sure, to keep in awe, these statutes first were made, Or none but lust full leachers, should, with rygrous law be paid. And yet to add intent thereto, is far from my pretence, I sue with tears, to win him grace, that sorrows his offence. Wherefore herein, renowned Lord, Justice with pity payse: Which two in equal balance weighed, to heave ̄ your fame will raise. Yet this may be replied, That law a mischief oft permits, to keep endue form of law, That law small faults, with greatest dooms, to keep men Still in axe: Yet Kings, or such as execute, regal authority: If mends be made, may over rule, the force of law with mercy. Here is no wilful murder wrought, which axeth blood again, Andrugios fault may valued be, Marriage wipes out his stain. Oh most worthy Magistrate, my self thy thrall I find. Even for this little lightning hope, which at thy hands I find. Now will I go and comfort him, which hangs betwixt death & life. The force was small, when with his will, he wretch y e conquest gate. And law even with the worst, awards them punishment: And sith that rigorous law adjudged him to die, Your glory will be much the more, in showing him mercy. The world will think, how y e you do, but grau ̄ to him grace on cause, And where cause is, there mercy should abate the force of laws. And may it be, a Judge himself, the self same fault should use: For which he domes, and others death, Oh crime without excuse. Renowned Lord, you use this speech (I hope) your thrall to try, If otherwise, my brother's life, so deer I will not buy. If that you love (as so you say) the force of love you know, Which fealt, in conscience you should, my brother favour show. What so war seeks, love unto war, contrary is, you see. Hate fostreth war, love cannot hate, then may it covet force. Well, to be short, my self will die, ere I my honour stain, You know my mind, leave off to tempt, your offers are in vain. No Promos, no, honour never at valve may be sold, Honour far dearer is then life, which passes price of gold: For unsure hope, that peerless pearl, I never will forsake: Farewell my Lord, but in this suit, you bootless wast your wind: Cassandra, Oh most unhappy, subject to every woe, What to ̄ gue can tell, what thought continued ̄ ceiue, what pen thy grief can show? Whom to scourge, Nature, heave ̄ & earth, do heaps of thrall ordain, Whose words in waste, whose works are lost, whose wishes are in vain. That which to others continued ̄ fort yields, does cause my heavy cheer, I mean my beauty breeds my bale, which many hold so deer. I would to God that kind else where, bestowed had this blaze, My virtues then had wrought regard, my shape now gives y e gaze: This form so Promos fierce with Love, as wisdom can not quench, His hight desire, till he lust, in Venus seas hath drenched. Poor Ganio his death-alas, fierce Fortune hath decreed: I needs must go, although with heavy cheer. All things conclude thy death Andrugio: Prepare thy self, to hope it beware in vain. Not Justice zeal, in wicked Promos sure: If thou dost live I must my honour loose, Thy ransom is, to Promos fleshly will That I do yield: then which I rather chosen, With torments sharp, my self he first should kill: Thus am I bent, thou seest thy death at hand, Oh would my life, would satisfy his ire, Cassandra then, would cancel soon thy band. And of these evils, the least, I hold is death, To shun whose dart, we can no mean devise, Yet honour lives, when death tath done his worst, Thus fame then life is of far more emprise: And shall I stick to stoop, to Promos will, Since my brother enjoyeth life thereby? No, although it does my credit kill, Ere that he should, my self would choose to die. My Andrugio, take comfort in distress, Cassandra is won, thy faunsome great to pay, Such care she hath, thy thraldom to release: As she consents, her honour for to slay. Farewell, I must, my virgins weeds forsake: And like a page, to Promos lewd repair. Unhappy wretch, I blush my self to see, Appareled thus monstrous to my kind: But o, my weeds, will with my fault agree, When I have pleased, lewd Promos fleshly mind. What shall I do, go proffer what he sought? Or on more suit, shall I give my consent? The best is sure, since this must needs be wrought: I go, and show, need makes me to his bent. My floods of tears, from true intent which floe. May quench his lust, or open his musled eyes, To see that I deserve to be his wife: Though now constrainde to be his Concubine. But so, or no, I must the vent er give, No danger fears the wight, pricked forth by need: And thus like one more glad to die, then live, I forward set, God grant me well to speed. The heavy charge, that Nature binds me too, I have performed, engraved my Brother is: Oh would to God (to ease, my ceaseless woo) My wretched bones, entombed were with his. But Oh in vain, this bootless wish, I use, I, poor I must live in sorrow, joined with shame: And shall he live? that did us both abuse? And quench through rule, the coals of joust revenge? Oh: no, I will now hie me to the King: To whom, I will, recount my wretched state, Lewd Promos rape, my Brother's death and all: And (though with shame, I may this tale relate) To prove that force, inforced me to fallen: When I have shown, Lord Promos fowl misdeeds, This knife forthwith, shall end my woe and shame, My gored heart, which at his feet then bleeds, To scourge his faults, the King will more inflame. In deeds to do, that I in words pretend, I now advise, my journey, to the King: Yet ere I go, as Swans sing at their end, In solemn Song, I mean my knell to ring. SIth fortune thwart, does cross my joys with care, Sith that my bliss, is chaungde to bale by fate: Sith forward chance, my days in woe does wear, Sith I alas, must moan without a mate. I wretch have vowed, to sing both day and night, Oh sorrow slay, all motions of delight. ¶ Come grisly grief, torment this heart of mine, Come deep despair, and stop my loathed breath. Come wretched woe, my thought of hope to pine: Come cruel care, prefer my suit to death. Death, end my woe, which sing both day and night, Oh sorrow slay, all motions of delight.