Most faire and vertuous Ladie: having often sought opportunitie by some good meanes to make knowen to your Ladiship the humble affection and faithfull duetie which I have alwaies professed, and am bound to beare, to that house from whence yee spring, I have at length found occasion to remember the same by making a simple present to you of these my idle labours; which having long sithens composed in the raw conceipt of my youth, I lately amongst other papers lighted upon, and was by others, which liked the same, mooved to set them foorth. Simple is the device, and the composition meane, yet carrieth some delight, even the rather because of the simplicitie and meannesse thus personated. The same I beseech your Ladiship take in good part, as a pledge of that profession which I have made to you, and keepe with you untill with some other more worthie labour redeeme it out of your hands, and discharge my utmost dutie. Till then, wishing your Ladiship all increase of honour and happinesse, I humblie take leave. Your La: ever humbly, ED. SP. [* “This lady was Anne, the fifth daughter of Sir John Spencer, distinguished also, in the pastoral of _Colin Clouts come Home again_, by the name of _Charillis_. She was married, first to Sir William Stanley, Lord Mountegle; next to Henry Compton, Lord Compton; and lastly to Robert Sackvilie, Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of Dorset.”—TODD.] PROSOPOPOIA: OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE. It was the month in which the righteous Maide That for disdaine of sinfull worlds upbraide Fled back to heaven, whence she was first conceived, Into her silver bowre the Sunne received; And the hot Syrian Dog on him awayting, 5 After the chafed Lyons cruell bayting, Corrupted had th’ayre with his noysome breath. And powr’d on th’earth plague, pestilence, and death. Emongst the rest a wicked maladie Raign’d emongst men, that manie did to die, 10 Depriv’d of sense and ordinarie reason; That it to leaches seemed strange and geason. [_Geason_, rare.] My fortune was, mongst manie others moe, To be partaker of their common woe; And my weake bodie, set on fire with griefe, 15 Was rob’d of rest and naturall reliefe. In this ill plight, there came to visite mee Some friends, who, sorie my sad case to see, Began to comfort me in chearfull wise, And meanes of gladsome solace to devise. 20 But seeing kindly sleep refuse to doe His office, and my feeble eyes forgoe, They sought my troubled sense how to deceave With talke that might unquiet fancies reave; [_Reave_, take away.] And sitting all in seates about me round, 25 With pleasant tales fit for that idle stound [_Stound_, time.] They cast in course to waste the wearie howres. Some tolde of ladies, and their paramoures; Some of brave knights, and their renowned squires; Some of the faeries and their strange attires; 30