etched
Philene, vnder what vnluckie signe and planet was thou begotten
and borne? wyth what offence were the heauens wroth, when they
forced thee to pierce thy mother's wombe? Could I poore creature
when I was framed within the moulde of nature, and fed of my
mother's substance within hir wombe, and afterwards in due time
brought forth to light, commit such crime, as to prouoke the
celestiall impressions to conspire agaynst my Natiuity, to
brynge mine increased age into such wretched state and plighte
wherein it is now wrapped? No, no, my faulte was nothing, it was
parent's offence, if any were at all: for many times we see the
innocent babe afflicted for the father's guilt. The Gods do
punish the posterity, for som sacrilege or notorious crime
committed by progenitors: theyr manner is not to suffer heynous
faultes vnreuenged: their iustice cannot abide such mischief
vncorrected for example sake: so fareth it by me. First my
father died, after wardes my Mother a widow was driuen to
abandon natiue soyle, and seeke reliefe in forrain land: and
leauing that wherwith we were possessed in enimies keping, were
forced a simple life to leade among straungers. And my mother,
yelding forth hir ghost, made me beleue that shee had hidden
great treasures here: and I vnhappy wench thinking to obteine
the pray, haue wandred in counterfeit kind, and fetcheed many a
bitter sigh, vntil I came into this place: and the thing I hoped
for, which myght haue bene the meanes and ende of all my care,
is turned to nothyng: a casket transformed into a halter: gold
and Iewels into a piece of rope? Is this the mariage dowry
(Philene) thou art like to haue to match with him whom thou so
derely louest? Is this the knot that shall conioyne you both in
yoke of man and wife? Ah wretch and miserable caitife, the goods
thy mother layd vp for thee, for maintenance of thy rest, and
safegarde of thine honour, and for the reputation of thy noble
house, wherof thou camst, is now berieued from thee: they that
kepe this stately house, and beare their lofty port amid the
best, haue despoiled thee pore wench of that after which thou
didst vainly trauayle. But what remedye now? sith thy wicked lot
doth thus fall out, sith thy cruel fate is loth thou shouldest
atteine the thing on whych thy mind is bente, and sith thy
painfull lyfe can take no ende, make spede to rid thy selfe from
misery by that meanes which he hath prepared for thee that hath
found thy goods: wh