Classic Poem

An Invective written by Roberto Sanseverino,
Earle of Giazzo, against Bianca Maria,
Countesse of Celant
Who ever sawe a thorne sweete grapes to yeeld,
Or sower slowes uppon a vine to growe?
Who ever heard a coward first in feeld?
The foreward wight soonste feard with sight of woe?
Who ever knew, in time of any minde,
Good fall to bad, or kitt to flee from kinde?

If proose ne peares, who may Bianca blame,
Whose father rose to wealth by silthie fraude,
Her mothers life y shrinde with endles shame,
Whose grandam was in drowping dayes a bawd:
Shee onely left of all this beastly store,
Must needes be worse then parents were before.

What marveile, then, if shee did flee by night,
And sent a horne unto her lord and fere,
To blow the death of all his brave delight?
That gadding moode shee learned of sa mere ,
Who lightly vailde at ery wanton whoope:
How could shee then but to Valperga stoope?

Ne can shee chuse but prove the proverbe true,
(Won with a word, and lost with one yll looke)
Giazzo knowes Bianca seekes for newe;
Hee whilome was a vowell in her booke:
Giazzo wrought Valperga out of grace,
Giazzo scornd, Valperga hath his place.

Yet both in lashe at length this Cressed leaves,
And, Megra like, pursues their love with hate:
Such is the fruite of ruffians, roages, and theeves,
Which framde her heart when shee was formde by fate:
Her fathers live (Scappardone being dead)
And divers seedes doth divers natures breede.

(O happie man!) Giazzo scornes her love,
(Valperga blest) that knowes her murdrous minde.
Wee have ynough; her truth let others prove,
And rest content with what wee left behinde.
Wee suckte the sweete, let others drinke the draffe,
Wee eate the corne; what skilles who chewes the chasse?