WHen first within the corps of man, dame Nature built her bower:
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She saw what troubles eke & thral, was bent them to devower.
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To whome she gave as in reward, a pleasaunt note or sound:
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Their carkes and cares to dryve away, wherby much ease was found.
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Whereof in children proofe is had, whome nurses have in charge:
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How soone they stop and stay their cry, when she doeth sound at large.
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The Plowman eke, and Carter both, with ease doeth passe away:
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In singyng of some mery note, their travayle all the day.
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Wherefore to Lady Nature I, doe render prayse and wyll:
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By whome not onely man alone, but byrdes in song hath skyll.
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The Poetes fayne that Amphion, who buylded Thebes towne:
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Did fyrst invent the pleasaunt note, whereby he got renowne.
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To Dionisius some the name, and some contrary wyse:
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To Zephus, who Eusebius sayth, the same dyd first devyse.
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Solinus sayth that men of Crete, by ryng and sound of brasse:
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By Thachadianes doeth Polibius say, invented first it was.
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In deede I thinke soone after that, dame Nature made the sound:
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That Reason did the measure make, the concord and the ground.
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And then in Mercury first it wrought, as auctour of the same:
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The which even hee (as worthy prayse) did publish and proclame.
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Then Reason, as one not full suffysde, did seeke for to devyse:
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Some instrument to geve a sound, by whome there did aryse
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A foreward wit in Mercury, for to invent the same:
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Who made a Harpe of fyshes bone, a Tortes cald by name.
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Which hee by Nilus ryver found, the fysh was dryde away:
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And nothyng but three sinowes left, whereon he sought to play.
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But when they gave a sound agayne, thus doe the Poetes fayne:
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He made a Harpe much lyke that bone, by thinvent of his brayne.
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Three strynges to it did he apply, a Treble Base and Meane:
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The which he made for to accord, in Musickes pleasaunt vayne.
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Then he it to Apollo gave, as gyft of wonderous weyght:
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And he the same to Orpheus handes, made redelivery streyght.
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Some thinke Amphion first it found, and some to that say no:
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And some in Tuball thinke the lyke, but that can not be so.
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Then Pan the Pype, Apollo eke, the Shalme he did invent:
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Then David Regalles sought to make, by Reasones whole consent.
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And Orphen first, with Linus nexte, and Arion als by name:
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Timarias, and Trezenius both, thereby did purchase fame.
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Nor Cibell yet, with Pises too, their labour ought did cease:
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But in the same did sore apply, their cunnyng too encrease.
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Thus have we proved by Poetes lore, how auncient Musicke is:
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And now I meane by Scripture playne, to prove the lyke iwis.
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We read how David daunst and soung, before the Arke of God:
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And how his wyfe which flowted him, was by the Lorde forbode
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For havyng chyldren any more, but barren should she be:
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Whereby I prove that God is pleasde, with such lyke armony.
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When MirIam with the Israelites, the red sea deepe had past:
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And Pharaos hoste were drowned all, who did pursue them fast,
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Then tooke they Timbrelles in their handes, and to the Lord sang prayse
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For that he was their ayde and shyeld, to passe the daungerouse seas.
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The Shepherdes eke, and Angelles both, we read how they rejoyst:
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When they once heard and understoode, the byrth of Jesus Christ.
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We see by this what Musicke is, we neede no better proofe:
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The Scripture is a buckeler good, in Musickes right behoofe.
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In Fucsius, and in Galen both, who lyst to looke shall fynd:
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How much that Musicke doeth appease, the dolours of the mynd.
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You know what tauntes Themistocles, in banket did sustayne:
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When he good musicke did disprayse, accoumptyng it but vayne.
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They judged his learnyng much the worse, because he did defye
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That, which all men did much esteeme, regard and eke set bye.
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I pray you was not Socrates, whome crooked age had caught:
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With Musickes skyll and armony, as one with Cupid fraught?
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And sayd that concord was the ground, and eke the sure stay:
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Without the which nothing is good, this could that wyse man say.
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And measure is a mery meane, and meane who doeth embrace:
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Of every vertue hath the ground, which bryngeth man to grace.
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This have I doen in Musickes cause, my pen now wyll I rest:
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Syth that I have that worthy science, as famouse once profest.
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And who that seekes the losse of it, needes must I speake my mynd:
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A great disprayse is to his wit, his wordes are coumpted wynd.
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