Isabella Whitney

The time is come I must departe from thee, ah, famous Citie: I never yet, to rue my smart, did finde that thou hadst pitie, Wherefore small cause ther is, that I should greeve from thee to go: But many Women foolyshly, lyke me, and other moe. Doe such a fyxed fancy set, on those which least desarve, That long it is ere wit we get, away from them to swarve, But tyme with pittie oft wyl tel to those that wil her try: Whether it best be more to mell, or vtterly defye. And now hath time me put in mind, of thy great cruelnes: That never once a help wold finde, to ease me in distres. Thou never yet woldst credit geve to boord me for a yeare: Nor with Apparell me releve except thou payed weare. No, no, thou never didst me good, nor ever wilt, I know: Yet am I in no angry moode, but wyll, or ere I goe, In perfect love and charytie my Testament here write: And leave to thee such Treasurye, as I in it recyte. Now stand a side and geve me leave to write my latest Wyll: And see that none you do deceave, of that I leave them tyl. I whole in body, and in minde, but very weake in Purse: Doo make, and write my Testament for feare it wyll be wurse. And fyrst I wholy doo commend, my Soule and Body eke: To God the Father and the Son, so long as I can speake. And after speach: my Soule to hym, and Body to the Grave: Tyll time that all shall rise agayne, their Judgement for to have. And then I hope they both shal meete. to dwell for aye in ioye: Whereas I trust to see my Friends releast, from all annoy. Thus have you heard touching my soule, and body what I meane: I trust you all wyll witnes beare, I have a stedfast brayne. And now let mee dispose such things, as I shal leave behinde: That those which shall receave the same, may know my wylling minde. I firste of all to London leave because I there was bred: Braue buildyngs rare, of Churches store, and Pauls to the head. Betweene the same: fayre streats there bee, and people goodly store: Because their keeping craveth cost, I yet wil leave him more. First for their foode, I Butchers leave, that every day shall kyll: By Thames you shal have Brewers store, and Bakers at your wyll. And such as orders doo obserue, and eat fish thrice a weeke: I leave two Streets, full fraught therwith, they neede not farre to seeke. Watlyng Streete, and Canwyck streete, I full of Wollen leave: And Linnen store in Friday streete, if they mee not deceave. And those which are of callyng such, that costlier they require: I Mercers leave, with silke so rich, as any would desyre. In Cheape of them, they store shal finde and likewise in that streete: I Goldsmithes leave, with Iuels such, as are for Ladies meete. And Plate to furnysh Cubbards with, full braue there shall you finde: With Purle of Siluer and of Golde, to satisfye your minde. With Hoods, Bungraces, Hats or Caps, such store are in that streete: As if on ton side you should misse the tother serues you feete. For Nets of every kynd of sort, I leave within the pawne: French Ruffes, high Purles, Gorgets and Sleeves of any kind of Lawne. For Purse or Kniues, for Combe or Glasse, or any needeful knacke I by the Stoks have left a Boy, wil aske you what you lack. I Hose doo leave in Birchin Lane, of any kynd of syse: For Women stitchte, for men both Trunks and those of Gascoyne gise. Bootes, Shoes or Pantables good store, Saint Martins hath for you: In Cornwall, there I leave you Beds, and all that longs thereto. For Women shall you Taylors have, by Bow, the chiefest dwel: In every Lane you some shall finde, can doo indifferent well. And for the men, few Streetes or Lanes, but Bodymakers bee: And such as make the sweeping Cloakes, with Gardes beneth the Knee. Artyllery at Temple Bar, and Dagges at Tower hyll: Swords and Bucklers of the best, are nye the Fleete vntyll. Now when thy Folke are fed and clad with such as I have namde: For daynty mouthes, and stomacks weake some Iunckets must be framde. Wherfore I Poticaries leave, with Banquets in their Shop: Phisicians also for the sicke, Diseases for to stop. Some Roysters styll, must bide in thee, and such as cut it out: That with the guiltlesse quarel wyl, to let their blood about. For them I cunning Surgions leave, some Playsters to apply. That Ruffians may not styll be hangde, nor quiet persons dye. For Salt, Otemeale, Candles, Sope, or what you els doo want: In many places, Shops are full, I left you nothing scant. Yf they that keepe what I you leave, aske Mony: when they sell it: At Mint, there is such store, it is vnpossible to tell it. At Stiliarde store of Wines there bee, your dulled mindes to glad: And handsome men, that must not wed except they leave their trade. They oft shal seeke for proper Gyrles, and some perhaps shall fynde: (That neede compels, or lucre lures to satisfye their mind.) And neare the same, I houses leave, for people to repayre: To bathe themselues, so to preuent infection of the ayre. On Saturdayes I wish that those, which all the weeke doo drug: Shall thyther trudge, to trim them vp on Sondayes to looke smug. Yf any other thing be lackt in thee, I wysh them looke: For there it is: I little brought but nothyng from thee tooke. Now for the people in thee left, I have done as I may: And that the poore, when I am gone, have cause for me to pray. I wyll to prisons portions leave, what though but very small: Yet that they may remember me, occasion be it shall: And fyrst the Counter they shal have, least they should go to wrack: Some Coggers, and some honest men, that Sergantes draw a back. And such as Friends wyl not them bayle, whose coyne is very thin: For them I leave a certayne hole, and little ease within. The Newgate once a Monthe shal have a sessions for his share: Least being heapt, Infection might procure a further care. And at those sessions some shal skape, with burning nere the Thumb: And afterward to beg their fees, tyll they have got the some. And such whose deedes deserueth death, and twelue have found the same: They shall be drawne vp Holborne hill, to come to further shame: Well, yet to such I leave a Nag shal soone their sorowes cease: For he shal either breake their necks or gallop from the preace. The Fleete, not in their circuit is, yet if I geve him nought: It might procure his curse, ere I unto the ground be brought. Wherfore I leave some Papist olde to vnder prop his roofe: And to the poore within the same, a Boxe for their behoofe. What makes you standers by to smile. and laugh so in your sleeve: I thinke it is, because that I to Ludgate nothing geve. I am not now in case to lye, here is no place of iest: I dyd reserve, that for my selfe, yf I my health possest. And ever came in credit so a debtor for to bee. When dayes of paiment did approch, I thither ment to flee. To shroude my selfe amongst the rest, that chuse to dye in debt: Rather then any Creditor, should money from them get. Yet cause I feele my selfe so weake that none mee credit dare: I heere reuoke: and doo it leave, some Banckrupts to his share. To all the Bookebinders by Paulles because I lyke their Arte: They e'ry weeke shal mony have, when they from Bookes departe. Amongst them all, my Printer must, have somwhat to his share: I wyll my Friends these Bookes to bye of him, with other ware. For Maydens poore, I Widdoers ritch, do leave, that oft shall dote: And by that meanes shal mary them, to set the Girles aflote. And wealthy Widdowes wil I leave, to help yong Gentylmen: Which when you have, in any case be courteous to them then: And see their Plate and Iewells eake may not be mard with rust. Nor let their Bags too long be full, for feare that they doo burst. To e'ry Gate vnder the walles, that compas thee about: I Fruit wives leave to entertayne such as come in and out. To Smithfeelde I must something leave my Parents there did dwell: So carelesse for to be of it, none wolde accompt it well. Wherfore it thrice a weeke shall have, of Horse and neat good store, And in his Spitle, blynd and lame, to dwell for evermore. And Bedlem must not be forgot, for that was oft my walke: I people there too many leave, that out of tune doo talke. At Bridewel there shal Bedelles be, and Matrones that shal styll See Chalke wel chopt, and spinning plyde, and turning of the Mill. For such as cannot quiet bee, but striue for House or Land: At Th' innes of Court, I Lawyers leave to take their cause in hand. And also leave I at ech Inne of Court, or Chauncerye: Of Gentylmen, a youthfull roote, full of Actiuytie: For whom I store of Bookes have left, at each Bookebinders stall: And parte of all that London hath to furnish them withall. And when they are with study cloyd: to recreate theyr minde: Of Tennis Courts, of dauncing Scooles, and fence they store shal finde. And every Sonday at the least, I leave to make them sport. In diuers places Players, that of wonders shall reporte. Now London have I (for thy sake) within thee, and without: As coms into my memory, dispearsed round about Such needfull thinges, as they should have heere left now unto thee: When I am gon, with consience, let them dispearced bee. And though I nothing named have, to bury mee withall: Consider that aboue the ground, annoyance bee I shall. And let me have a shrowding Sheete to couer mee from shame: And in obliuyon bury mee and never more mee name. Ringings nor other Ceremonies, vse you not for cost: Nor at my buriall, make no feast, your mony were but lost. Reioyce in God that I am gon, out of this vale so vile. And that of ech thing, left such store, as may your wants exile. I make thee sole executor, because I lou'de thee best. And thee I put in trust, to geve the goodes unto the rest. Because thou shalt a helper neede, In this so great a chardge, I wysh good Fortune, be thy guide, least thou shouldst run at lardge. The happy dayes and quiet times, they both her Seruants bee. Which well wyll serue to fetch and bring, such things as neede to thee. Wherfore (good London) not refuse, for helper her to take: Thus being weake and wery both an end heere wyll I make. To all that aske what end I made, and how I went away: Thou answer maist like those which heere, no longer tary may. And unto all that wysh mee well, or rue that I am gon: Doo me comend, and bid them cease my absence for to mone. And tell them further, if they wolde, my presence styll have had: They should have sought to mend my luck; which ever was too bad. So fare thou well a thousand times, God sheelde thee from thy foe: And styll make thee victorious, of those that seeke thy woe. And (though I am perswade) that I shall never more thee see: Yet to the last, I shal not cease to wish much good to thee. This, xx. of October I, in ANNO DOMINI: A Thousand: v. hundred seuenty three as Alminacks descry. Did write this Wyll with mine owne hand and it to London gaue: In witnes of the standers by, whose names yf you wyll have. Paper, Pen and Standish were: at that same present by: With Time, who promised to reveale, so fast as she could hye The same: least of my nearer kyn, for any thing should vary: So finally I make an end no longer can I tary.

Because I to my brethern wrote and to my sisters two: Good sister Anne, you this might wote, if so I should not do To you, or ere I parted hence, You vainly had bestowed expence. Yet is it not for that I write, for nature did you bind To do me good, and to requite hath nature me inclined: Wherefore good sister take in gree These simple lines that come from me. Wherein I wish you Nestor's days, in happy health to rest: With such success in all assays as those which God hath blest: Your husband with your pretty boys, God keep them free from all annoys. And grant if that my luck it be to linger here so long Till they be men, that I may see for learning them so strong That they may march amongst the best Of them which learning have possest. By that time will my aged years perhaps a staff require: And quakingly as still in fears my limbs draw to the fire: Yet joy I shall them so to see, If any joy in age there be. Good sister so I you commend to him that made us all: I know you huswifery intend, though I to writing fall: Wherefore no lenger shall you stay From business that profit may. Had I a husband, or a house, and all that longs thereto, My self could frame about to rouse, as other women do: But till some household cares me tie, My books and pen I will apply.

Those strokes which mates in mirth do give do seem to be but light, Although sometime they leave a sign seems grievous to the sight. He that is void of any friend, him company to keep, Walks in a world of wilderness, full fraught with dangers deep. Each lover knoweth what he likes and what he doth desire, But seld, or never, doth he know what thing he should require. Affection fond deceives the wise and love makes men such noddies That to their selves they seem as dead yet live in other bodies. Ask nothing of thy neighbour that thou wouldst not let him have: Nor say him nay of that which thou wouldst get if thou didst crave. Two eyes, two ears, and but one tongue Dame Nature hath us framed That we might see and hear much more than should with tongue be named. Seek not each man to please, for that is more than God bids do: Please thou the best, and neuer care, what wicked say thereto.

Good sisters mine, when I shall further from you dwell, Peruse these lines, observe the rules which in the same I tell. So shall you wealth possess, and quietness of mind: And all your friends to see the same, a treble joy shall find. In mornings when you rise, forget not to commend Your selves to God, beseeching him from dangers to defend Your souls and bodies both, your parents and your friends, Your teachers and your governers. So pray you that your ends May be in such a sort as God may pleasèd be: To live to die, to die to live, with him eternally. Then justly do such deeds as are to you assigned: All wanton toys, good sisters now, exile out of your mind. I hope you give no cause whereby I should suspect, But this I know, too many live that would you soon infect. If God do not prevent, or with his grace expell, I cannot speak, or write too much, because I love you well. Your business soon dispatch and listen to no lies, Nor credit every fained tale, that many will devise. For words they are but wind, yet words may hurt you so, As you shall never brook the same, if that you have a foe. God shield you from all such as would by word or bill Procure your shame, or never cease till they have wrought you ill. See that you secrets seal, tread trifles under ground: If to rehearsal oft you come, it will your quiet wound. Of laughter be not much, nor over solemn seem, For then be sure they'll compt you light or proud will you exteem. Be modest in a mean, be gentle unto all: Though cause they give of contrary yet be to wrath no thrall. Refer you all to him, that sits above the skies: Vengeance is his, he will revenge, you need it not devise. And sith that virtue guides, where both of you do dwell: Give thanks to God, and painful be to please your rulers well. For fleeting is a foe, experience hath me taught: The rolling stone doth get no moss your selves have heard full oft. Your business being done, and this my scroll perused, The day will end, and that the night by you be not abused. I something needs must write: take pains to read the same. Henceforth my life as well as pen shall your examples frame. Your Masters gone to bed, your Mistresses at rest, Their daughters all with haste about to get themselves undrest. See that their plate be safe, and that no spoon do lack, See doors and windows bolted fast for fear of any wrack. Then help if need there be, to do some household thing: If not, to bed, referring you unto the heavenly King. Forgetting not to pray as I before you taught, And giving thanks for all that he hath ever for you wrought. Good Sisters, when you pray, let me remembered be: So will I you, and thus I cease, till I your selves do see.

I whole in body, and in mind, but very weak in purse, Do make, and write my testament for fear it will be worse. And first I wholly do commend my soul and body eke, To God the Father and the Son, so long as I can speak. And after speech, my soul to him, and body to the grave, Till time that all shall rise again, their Judgement for to have, And then I hope they both shall meet, to dwell for aye in joy; Whereas I trust to see my friends released from all annoy. Thus have you heard touching my soul, and body what I mean: I trust you all will witness bear, I have a steadfast brain. O God, now let me dispose such things, as I shall leave behind, That those which shall receive the same, may know my willing mind. I first of all to London leave, because I there was bred, Brave buildings rare, of churches store, and Paul’s to the head. Between the same, fair treats there be, and people goodly store; Because their keeping craveth cost, I yet will leave him more. First for their food, I butchers leave, that every day shall kill; By Thames you shall have brewers’ store, and bakers at your will. And such as orders do observe, and eat fish thrice a week, I leave two streets, full fraught therewith, they need not far to seek. Watling Street, and Canwick Street, I full of woolen leave; And linen store in Friday Street, if they me not deceive. And those which are of calling such, that costlier they require, I mercers leave, with silk so rich, as any would desire. In Cheap of them, they store shall find, and likewise in that street, I goldsmiths leave, with jewels such, as are for ladies meet. * * * Now when the folk are fed and clad with such as I have named, For dainty mouths, and stomachs weak some junckets must be framed. Wherefore I potecaries leave, with banquets in their shop, Physicians also for the sick, Diseases for to stop. Some roysters still must bide in thee, and such as cut it out; That with the guiltless quarrel will, to let their blood about. For them I cunning surgeons leave, some plasters to apply, That ruffians may not still be hanged, nor quiet persons die. * * * To all the bookbinders by Paul’s, because I like their art, They every week shall money have, when they from books depart. Among them all, my printer must have somewhat to his share; I will my friends these books to buy of him, with other ware. For maidens poor, I widowers rich do leave, that oft shall dote: And by that means shall marry them, to set the girls afloat. And wealthy widows will I leave to help young gentlemen; Which when you have, in any case, be courteous to them then: And see their plate and jewels eke may not be marred with rust; Nor let their bags too long be full, for fear that they do burst. * * * And Bedlam must not be forgot, for that was oft my walk: I people there too many leave, that out of tune do talk. * * * At th’ Inns of Court, I lawyers leave to take their case in hand. And also leave I at each Inn of Court, or Chancery, Of gentlemen, a youthful roote, full of activity, For whom I store of books have left, at each bookbinder’s stall: And part of all that London hath, to furnish them withal. And when they are with study cloyed, to recreate their mind, Of tennis courts, of dancing schools, and fence they store shall find. And every Sunday at the least, I leave to make them sport, In divers places players, that of wonders shall report. Now, London, have I (for thy sake) within thee, and without, As comes into my memory, dispersèd ’round about Such needful things as they should have, here left now unto thee; When I am gone, with conscience, let them dispersèd be. And though I nothing namèd have, to bury me withal, Consider that above the ground, annoyance be I shall. And let me have a shrouding sheet to cover me from shame, And in oblivion bury me, and never more me name. Ringings nor other ceremonies use you not for cost, Nor at my burial, make no feast, your money were but lost. * * * This XX of October, I, in ANNO DOMINI, A thousand, v. hundred seventy-three, as almanacs descry, Did write this will with mine own hand, and it to London gave; In witness of the standers-by, whose names, if you will have, paper, pen and standish were, at that same present by, With Time, who promised to reveal so fast as she could buy The same, lest of my nearer kin for any thing should vary; So finally I make an end no longer can I tarry.

The time is come, I must depart from thee, ah famous city; I never yet to rue my smart, did find that thou had’st pity. Wherefore small cause there is, that I should grieve from thee to go; But many women foolishly, like me, and other moe, Do such a fixèd fancy set, on those which least deserve, That long it is ere wit we get away from them to swerve. But time with pity oft will tell to those that will her try, Whether it best be more to mell, or utterly defy. And now hath time me put in mind of thy great cruelness, That never once a help would find, to ease me in distress. Thou never yet would’st credit give to board me for a year; Nor with apparel me relieve, except thou payèd were. No, no, thou never did’st me good, nor ever wilt, I know. Yet am I in no angry mood, but will, or ere I go, In perfect love and charity, my testament here write, And leave to thee such treasury, as I in it recite. Now stand aside and give me leave to write my latest will; And see that none you do deceive of that I leave them till.