English

V NBRIDELED youth is prickt to pleasure aye.
And led by lust to follow fansies fyts:
Vnskilfull heads runne retchlesse on their way,
Like wylfull coltes that broken haue their bits:
Not lookyng backe, till foultring foote doe faile,
And all consumde that was for their auaile.

Vnhappy they, by scathe that purchase skyll,
And learne too late how youth dyd lead awrie:
Vnluckie men for wit that follow wyll,
And foule delights in golden prime apply:
More wisedome were ech one to wed a wife,

B OLOGNA is a towne
of Lumbardie you know,
A citie very brauely builte,
and much set out to shewe:
Where as in auncient dayes
a famous knight there dwelde,
Who for good giftes and linage both
all others farre excelde:
A man commended much,
Gentile was his name
This worthy gallant fell in loue
by fortune, with a dame
That Catilina hight,
one Nicoluccios wyfe,
A passing faire, and featurde wenche,
and ledde an honest life,
And loude her husband so,
as she did little waye,

Gentile loude one Nicoluccios wife,
Faire Catiline, a matrone graue and wise:
Whom to corrupte sith he might not deuise
He parted thence to leade a grauer life
For she was bent to scorne such masking mates,
As houerd still about her husbands gates.
Within a while this Nicoluccio,
(His Ladie great with childe) was forst to ride
In haste from home, and leaue her thore as guide:
Whom sodayne griefe assaylde by fortune so,
As Phisicke, friends, and all that sawe the chance,
Did yelde her dead, she lay in such a traunce.

W HO sits aloft in sacred Princes seate,
And wieldes his realme by loue and not by dread,
Whose puisant hand by mildnesse doth entreate
The silly rowte that vnder him is led:
Shall safely raigne, and hold his scepter sure,
A courteous king doth lightly long endure.

But who so raignes in threatning tyrants throne,
Bathing in blood his haughtie hungre chaps,
And rules by force, is surely ouerthrowne
The Goddes assigne such Soueraines sory haps,

Within Cyrene earst
there dwelling was a Dame
Namde Aretafila, of birthe
and noble bloud she came
Elator was her Syre,
a man of great renowme:
Sir Faedimus her husband hight,
the chiefe in all the towne
For noble minde and wealth:
this Ladie was so well
With bewtie dighte, as she the reste,
not onely did excell
For feature of her face,
that was full fayre to looke,
But eke for graue Mineruas giftes,
and cunning in her booke:
Her sacred giftes were great,
her wisdome was as rare,

N ICOCRATES a cruell tyrant, slewe
Sir Faedimus, who had vnto his wife
One Aretafila, of gallant hewe,
And after, (hauing reft the husbands life)
Did wedde this dame who though were made a queene
Might not forget the murther she had seene.
No loue deuise, no iewels fet from farre,
Could so reclaime this noble Ladies minde,
But that she would aduenture him to marre,
Who slew her knight, whereat she so repinde:
By poisoned drinke she meant to do the deede,
But that was found, it might not well succeede.

Thrice happie those I deeme aboue the rest,
That ground good will, and fixe affection so,
As in the end it fall out for the best,
Not broken off by fortune, nor by foe:
Seedes wisely sowen will prosper well and growe
But where aduise and wholsome counsel wants,
Trees may not proue, they perish in the plants.

Who makes his choice to loue in tender age,
And scornes the skill of such as time hath taught,
And headlong runnes at riot in his rage,
Is like the birde in net by fowler caught,

An Italie there is a citie, hight
Rauenna, by report as braue a place
As may be found, both fresh and fair to sight,
VVherein of yore there was a noble race
Of gallant wights, great choise of men of fame,
But one in chief, Nastagio by name.
The father of this forward ympe did dye,
Forespent with yeeres, and load with siluer locks,
VVhose land and fee descended orderly
Vnto the Sonne, with store of other stocks:
Few fathers of this aged mans degree,
In so good case did leaue their sonnes as hee

Through wilful loue, and liking ouermuch,
Nastagios state did melt, and without returne
Of like good will: Euphymius minde was such
She felt no flame, when he, good man, did burne:
But made his griefe her glee, his bitter smarte.
Might nothing rize or pierce her marble harte.

By friendes aduise at last he parted thence.
Though greatly greeued, remouing racke him sore,
To quit the cause of al his fond expence,
And purchase ease which he had lost before:
A death (no doubt) it was to put away,

Meanwhile Jove bids cloud-girt Iris go gather the gods from the whole universe. She, outstripping the breezes in her rainbow flight, calls to the sea-deities, chides the Nymphs for their delay, and summons forth the river-gods from their moist caverns. Out they haste in doubt and fear what this disturbance of their peace may signify or what has caused so great an upheaval. The starry heaven is thrown open and the gods are bidden take their seats as merit, not chance, dictates.