The Complaynt Of Alurede. Poem by Thomas Blenerhasset

My wrinckled cheeks bedeawde with drops of dole
My visage pale, my wan and withered face,
Do wel declare how I haue runne my race.
And sith I must my doinges here inrolle,
The liues of them which liue for to controlle,
I am content my cruel wretched case
Shall teach the way, how all men may imbrace
The knowledge how they honour may obtayne,
And how they may from falling there remayne.

Though many clime by a meanes a hye,
Yet few on toppe can sit in suer seate:
For euery storme an ouerthrowe doth threate
To them, who get the toppe by crueltie,
Whose suddayne fall doth tell their trechery.
But they who will their heades for honour beate,
And flye the fall, the greefe whereof is greate,
Let them renowne their former factes with fame,
And shunne the path which leades mans life to shame.

Who walketh in this wilderness of woe,
And loues aloft on flitting Fame to flee,
Must pace the pathes of Mother Mysery.
That man through gastfull greefe must goe,
By thousande thickes which wrapped are with wo:
By Daungers denne where lurking she dooth lye,
By Hatreds house, where spight wil thee espye,
By caue of Care, by wofull crye, alas,
His manly minde with courage stout must passe.

By plesaunt playne where pleasure doth place
Her princely Pallace paynted passing fine,
To gazing eyes where glitteryng glasse doth shine
Of beauties blaze, where feature fine of face,
Where Ladye loue doth vaunte with garishe grace,
Where vayne delight doth drawe that lothsome line,
Which maketh man from vertue to decline,
Be wise and ware, and lothe theyr luering lookes,
Least craftye Cupide catch thee in his hookes

To Pleasures court a company doth come,
Euen fame to finde, the losse I do lament,
For flitting Fame, them Rumor rud hath hent,
Which doth declare their dole til day of Dome.
With tooth and nayle which trauaile, there be some,
Vertue to finde, where when some time is spent,
Her to obtayne, and that with good intent,
They weary, by the way do stay their race,
And rest them in this pleasaunt bitter place.

They meane as there no long delayes to make,
But Bacchus comely Carpites so do please,
Such courtly caues, such mirth, such quiet ease
They haue, that they to Venus them betake,
The wearye wayes of vertue they forsake.
Those trustlesse traynes from dolor and disease
Doubtlesse do come, to drowne in surging seas
Of secrete smarte, those which do them delight.
Flee thou therfore this courte, with spight.

From Pleasures place, when thou shalt turne thy face,
The high way then discretion wil thee shewe
To vertues Lodge, which thou right well mayst know
By such as dwell about that pleasaunt place:
A hundred vertues raunging on a rowe,
Thou there shalt see, how Fame her trumpe doth blowe,
For greate exploytes: where when thou art renownde,
Then Fame thy name through all the world shal sounde.

And when thou hast obtainde that place with payne,
There is no doubt desert will honour haue,
Which being had, beware that waltering waue
Of wordly lust, which vertue doth disdayne,
Beware least thou thy former deedes doost staine.
For he who could himselfe from sinning saue,
He seeking that which most his minde did craue:
Which being founde, his feeble feet dooe faynt,
And strayght he doth with sinne himselfe acquaynt.

When man hath most of that he doth desire,
Then most the fleshe doth force the soule to sinne,
The ende doth proue how wel we do beginne.
For he who doth from vertues lore retire,
His wretched ende doth make the worlde admire.
Let him therfore which will the Garlond winne,
Euen to the end auoyde the hatefull ginne
Which Satan sets, with traynes of tastlesse bayte,
The glosse whereof prognosticates desayght.

What gayne is got by him who runnes in hast,
If that his stumbling feete do make delay?
An other man doth beare the price away,
He got no game, one fall hath hym defast:
Euen so that man from fame is quite displaste,
If once his feete in vices steppes do stay,
As may appeare by me, and my decay.
For once I slipt, one vice did me deface,
One onely vice, did Alurede disgrace.

I the fourth sonne of Ethelwolfus king,
Twice tenne and eight I wore the Saxon crowne,
For Martial feates I had a greate renowne,
My gouernaunce was good in euery thing,
I rulde my realme to euery mans liking,
My stature tall, my face did neuer frowne,
My learning did deserue a Lawrell crowne,
My wisedome and my iustice purchast fame,
My courage bolde dyd much extoll the same.

In seuen conflictes I did the Danes destroy,
But more ariude which did me more molest,
Yet they likewise were by my meanes destrest.
But when my strength their strength could not destroy,
I did deuise a pretty pleasant toy,
By meanes whereof my Saxon soyle was bleste.
Amidst my fone I Minstrel like did ieste,
I playd the part of Scoggin Skeltons mate,
Transformde, I trudgde about from gate to gate,

In Minstrels robes my Fiddle tuned fine,
With warbling notes my toung the song did sing,
Myne eyes and harte did note eche other thing
That there was done: first howe they did incline,
There lothesome liues, much like to filthie swine.
I playd my part before their Hoggish King,
A part which him and his to bale did bring.
For when I knewe their purposed intent,
By my returne I made them al repent.

For in the night I did their campe inuade,
With bloddye blade I did destroy them al,
And those which did as then escape the thrall,
Of Infidels them Christened men I made,
And though with warres my Realme were quite decayd,
Yet at the laste after so greate a fal,
I wonne the Price that pleasde me most of al.
Euen quiet peace a blesse of al the best,
The frute whereof is nothing els but rest.

Thus being blest with peace and quiet rest,
At Oxford I a Grammer schoole did buyld,
By meanes whereof my common weale was filde
With learned men: and hauing thus my hest,
A Abbies buylt, esteeming it the best,
That God who me in al my warres did wielde,
And me preserude euen with his myghtie shielde
That he in peace the only prayse myght haue,
I buylded vp religious houses braue.

At Winchester the Minster there I made,
At Shaftesburye I buylt a Nunnerye,
I daily did erect Diuinitie,
All which good deedes euen by one wicked trade,
Were quite defaste and from my fame did fade.
O hateful thing that fuming fantasye,
Should make a man that seeth, not to see,
Alas I byte on pleasures bytter bayte,
Whose hateful hookes are couered with desayte,

In lawlesse loue I had a great delyght,
That sugered sweete of little lasting ioye,
Those luering lookes of dayntie Damsels coy,
Made me committe that lyke a Carpite knighte.
I did consume ful many a day and nyght
With such delyghtes as did my name anoye,
My health and life at last they did destroy:
Yea these delightes did so my fame deface,
That nowe with shame I blushe to shewe my face.

Those lewde delightes did drawe me to disease,
Consuming sicknesse brought me verye lowe,
Phisitions they Sicus that euil do know,
A kinde of sore which did me much displease,
It alwayes did bereaue me of my ease:
On partes belowe that gryping griefe doth growe,
On me my God a iust reuenge did show.
And at the last, continuing in my sinne,
I lost my lyfe, and hateful Hel did winne.

What though I did from forrayne foes defend
My Saxon soyle, with thrice renowmed fame?
What though I rulde with equitie the same?
What though to buyld vp Abbies I did bend
My selfe, and prayd that God his worde would send?
Though these good deedes did honor much my name,
Yet these defaste with deedes of foule defame,
Be of no price: for filthie fleshly luste
Destroyd them al, and layd them in the duste.

For as you see dissolued clowdes with rayne
The beames of Phebus do deface:
Euen so one sinne did al my vertues race,
They blemished myne honor with disdayne,
So that I finde al vertue is in vayne,
If vices be with vertue linkt in place,
On vice an hundred vertues doth disgrace.
Therefore the man who hopeth for renowme,
Must fight with flesh, and beate al vices downe,

And hee who can his raging wyl resiste,
Is much more strong then Alexander greate,
Who wonne the worlde, yet had he not the feate,
With conquest to compel his lawlesse liste,
To do the thing whereby he might be bliste.
But they who hope to haue a heauenly seate,
Their lust and fleshly fancies downe must beate.
And here by me you may perceiue at large,
The thinges which God committeth to mans charge.