Full text of "An English garner : ingatherings from our history and literature"

i 

CENTRE 
for 
REFORMATION 
and 
RENAISSANCE 
STUDIES 

VICTORIA 
UNIVERSITY 

T O R O N T O 



VOLUME IV. 



"YEA, ttlSTORY HA TH TRIUHPI-/ED 
OVER TIIVlE: WHICH BE$1DE I'Ç. 
HOTHINQ BUTET£RITYHATH 
TRIUI4PHED OVER;'». 

"RIIR$ RIVD hIADRICflLS 
THRT VVHhçPER SOFTNEç 
IN CHRIVlBERS:" 



5 

[ ? THOMAS OCCLEVE, Clerk in the Office of the Privy Seal.] The 
Le/ter of C[2"PID. (I4O2.) ........................ 54 
EDWARD UNDERHILL, Esq., of the Band of Gentlemen Pen- 
sioners, surnamed, "The hot Gospeller." E.x'amina/ion and 
]mibrtsonment in Au.usl 1553." ge,elle anecdo/es of tire 
( ? 1562.) .................................... 72 
[LUKE SHEPHERD, M.D.] OH.V170rANDMs2"lg.RSON. (? 1551. ) IO1 
ROBERT TOMSON, of Andover, Merchant. I'oEaffe /o /]te 
Indies and Alexico, 1556-1558 , A.D ................... I I 
JOHN FOX, the Martyrologist. Tke lmjbrisonmen/of/he 1-'rincess 
2ELzz.a£îH (I563.) ........................... I12 
Rev. THOMAS BRICE. ./1 camI3endious ],\gi«/er in me/re, Coillaiitht£ 
tire names and tSaifent sttffcrings of tire members o./" esus CI/ris/, 
and/]te tormenled, and gtTtelly burned ,il]tDt n,#/and; sfnce 
/]le deal]l of our ftmous A-itff, of iglllll6rht/ mentory, 
the Si.r/h, lo the enlrance and be.ginnin of the reiffn of our 
Soz,erei2.n and d«arest Lady ELABETH, of Enffland, France, 
attd behtnd, Qtteen ; De[emler of the Fat/la ; to wahose 
ness tru/y and roiberl.é aibibertaDtclh , ne.r/ and immediale/y 
undcr GOD, t]te suibrem« 2bouvet and aut]tority of lit« Churdtes 
of Enlandandlreland. (1559.) ..................... 143 
GEORGE FERREr<s, the Poet. The ¢vinnin.,« of Calais by /]te 
Frenc]t, anuary 1558 A.P. Genera/ 2Zarra/ive of t]te 
capture. ( ? I568-) .............................. 173 
The Passa.¢e of our dread Soz,ereiffn Lady, Queen EIZABETH, 
t]trou.h the City of London to 14/'est»tDts/e G the day b,fore hcr 
Coronation. (1558.) .............................. 217 
Lord WENTWORTH, the Lord Deputy of Calais, and the Council 
there. Le/ter fo Oueen «I[AR; 23rd 11Iay, 1557 ............ I86 
Lords WENTWORTH and GREV, and the Council at Calais. Reibort 
lo Queen .ql.41G 27ttt December, 1557 .................. 187 
Lord WETWORTH, at Calais. Le/ter to Queen 'I.R', I allllary, 
I 558, 9 p.l]l .................................... I90 
Lelter to Queen Mv, 2 anuay, 
1558 , lO.]ll .................................. I92 
JOHN HIGHFIELD, Master of the Ordnance at Calais. Z'o//'ce 
O_ueen, our so,ereiffn Lady. ( ? 1558") .................. I96 



6 CONTENTS OF TI[E Four,'r VOLUME. 
Rev. "VILLIAM HARRISON .D., Cnon of Windsor, and Rector 
of Radwinter. LIZABF. TI arms Eptglamt, z,hich 3IAx Y had 
ltJ'l dt3l-t',,lgeless. ( ? 1588.) ........................... 248 
ALCLZa : P,ZZLOealer,zr's Lovinz Folly. (1595.) .......... "-53 
LYRICS, ELEGIES, etYaC. TheFirsllToohql'SonssorAirs. 
13y JOHN DOWLAND, Bachelor of Music. (597-) ......... ?.8 
2"/te Sccoptd Book of So,ags or Airs. 
13y JOhN DOWLaND, Bachelor of Music. (16oo.) ......... 
2"]te Third and Lasl 17ook of-So,{gs 
or Airs. lqy JOHN DOWLAYD, Bachelor of Music. 06o03 ... 6o9 
A Pilgrinz's Sokace. I3y JOtaN DOW- 
LAID, Bachelor of Music. (62.) .................. 644 
Sir TIIO,IAS OI'ERBUR}" his Obs«r«.,alions ha his Tra,els, ,tflon the 
S[ale of lJte Sevezleen Provbtces, as lhey slood Anno Do»,ini 
16o9 : the TreaO, of Peace be&t.  thcn on foot. (626.) ...... 297 
TOI3IAS GENTLEMAN» Fisherman and Mariner. Etzland's 
to Il'lu bVealt]z, atd to entibloy S]tis atd a][arizers. (1614..)... 325 
BEN JOHNSON. Anszver to e]laster IVITttIRs Sotg' Shall I, 
wasting in despair. (1617.) ........................ 577 
King J.!ES. The A'it.s ,lajesO"s Declaralion fa his Subjects, 
cotcernba. lawfid 5orts fo be used. (16  8.) ............ 5 
7.]te Fa»wus and lI'onderful ecovey of a Shil3 of lristol, call«cl 
the Exchange, fro»t the Turkish Pirates of Af.cicr. ltïlh tire 
uamafihable allempls apM Xood success o_/ ottN IAIVLINS 
Pilot in ber, and olhêr slates : who, in the end (wil]t lhe 
slaughler of about forly of lhe Turks and ,]Ioors), brouzht lhe 
slt@ iœtto Plytttoulh, tire I3l]t of Februa'.j, [1622] last, wil]t l/te 
Caplain a Renegado, and rive Turks more; besides l/te re- 
demfilion of lwenO,-four ,te,t and one boy front Turkish 
slav«py. (1622.) .............................. 58i 
Go. WITHIR. Fait Vsxru2r, lhe 3tistressof PHz'AR2rr2r. (1622.) 35 
,4 A[iscdlany ai Eibi.«ra»as, Sonnets, Elbilabhs , and 
sttch olher Verses as zvere fou,td wrilten wil]t lhe Poem afore- 
goinff. (6-',z.) ................................. 495 
JOHN RUSHWORTH, Esq., of Lincoln's Inn. l']te Sequeslralion of 
Ar.-hbishob ABBOT from all his Ecclesiastical Offices, in I627. 535 
R[ICHARD] Y[ ? OUNG]. The stale of a Christian li,ely set forth, 
by a,t alleffory of a Sltil3 tnder Sail. (I636.) ............ 49 
ABRAHAt COWLEV. The Ckronicle. A BLLAZ. (1669.) ...... 319 
.4 lute a,M fitsl I¢elation of 3Iajor-General Sir TifoalAS 
Pro.ress Dt France and Flanders wilh the Six T]zousand 
En.glish, in lhe years 1657 and 1658 , al ltte lakinff of Duptkirk, 
andolherimporlantplac«s. (1699.) .................. 623 



7 

FIRST LINES 

I'AGE " 
A,ti«u ........................ 478 
Adieu, fond Love ! ...... 
.4 droit« hot, Sltekerd... 
A foui vice itis ........... 59 
After dark mght, the ... 268 
Aller long sickness ...... 
Afier long storms ......... 285 
"" Ah, Lady mine ! '". ..... 55 
"=41t, me!" . .............. 476 
.4 lad, «vhase faitlt ...... 399 
Alas, pnor fools ! ......... 
Albeit tbat men find ...... 59 
ALCILIA'S eyes have set 267 
AI.CILIA said .............. 27o 
Ail in vain is Ladies' "... 529 
Ail the day, the sun ...... 45 
=4 II their riches ............ 492 
Ail the night, my sleeps 45 
Ail ye, whom love ......... 4 
A loz.,er of tire ............ 456 
Although through ......... 57 
And ail the little lime ... 322 
And for that every ...... 56 
And, furthermore, have 57 
And GOD, to whom ... 68 
And if thine Ears ......... 525 
wtnd if those, oho ......... 49 t 
And Love itself is ......... 62I 
ltd, iozo» tlo ##tort ...... 426 
And of mercy, bath ...... 69 
And O grant, thou ...... 359 
And the book .............. 6I 
wt nd t]tis shall e the ... 386 
And though 1 ,tez,er ...... 386 
And though the work ... 26o 
And touching this ...... 67 
And trusteth well ......... 63 
,And when he saddest ... 46 
And when this man ...... 56 
And where men say ...... 68 
qnd yet althouKœe ......... 426 
wtmt yet, l cio hot [ear... 424 
Amt yet, if in rime ...... 507 
And you, my Thoughts 35 
An old proverb there ... 6o 
Another MAv then ...... 32o 
Another wretch, unto ... 57 
« wtre zoe t/te t¢t,a that... 433 
Ae you false gods ! ...... 636 
A-e you fled, Fait ! ...... 616 
A Heat to Lire ......... 648 
A Shepherd in ashade... 53o 
As Hope hath here ...... 269 
As Love had drawn ...... 266 
" A thousand lies 1 ... 4oi 
A thousand times ......... 
Awake» swcet love ! ...... 46 

OF POEMS AND 

Away with these ......... 47 
A wicked tree ............... 6o 

Base servile thoughts ... 292 
Beauty can want no ...... 613 
Behold a wonder ......... 632 
« tot lroud, because ... 487 
Be thon still ............... 493 
Betrayin hot men ......... 57 
13etter a tbousaud tlmes 37 
I¢lush not, my Love ! ... 260 
ltoth knit in one ......... 654 
ound in noue ............ 484 
Boy ! ha' done ! ............ 406 
Burst forth my tears I ... 38 
"'But could thyfiery ...... 633 
But.te ! my]oolilt ...... 426 
But he3 in heart ............ 62 
But m ber eyes ............ 385 
But in ber place ......... 32I 
},ut I wlll briefer ......... 322 
But kissinx and ............ 433 
But let nor Nyt# ...... 4o5 
But/est this conquest ... 435 
But, maugre them ......... 6 
But nought, Mas ......... 262 
But O, the fury ............ 42 
But, O, t/trice Izaly !... 424 
But sa.v! ll'lzat [ uit ... 383 
But shonld 1 now ......... 321 
But such as will run ...... 622 
13ut such visions ......... 5o8 
But. trust me ! ............ 5o5 
]3ut, understandeth ...... 7o 
But what can stay ......... 34 
13ut when IAllEI.LA ...... 321 
/3ut 2vhy ..................... 476 
13ut yet, at last, I ......... 456 
But yet it is a sport ...... 22 
By a fountain where ...... 6t 7 
By gï'eatest titles ......... 484 
By process moveth ...... 55 
) these imlber_/ections 506 
By thine error thou ...... 5;o 
B_v rais, thy tunes ......... 520 
'By thy Beauty ............ 359 

Can /te prize the ......... 428 
Can Love be rich ........ 36 
Can she excuse my ...... 36 
Care that consumes ...... 43 
'Cause her fortunes seem 59 
'Cause lter fartunes ...... 579 
"Cause ]wr fortune ...... 454 
Cease» cease, cease ...... 656 
Clear or cloudy ............ 533 
Clerkis feign also there 65 

Cold as ice frozen ......... 617 
Cold, hold ! the sun ...... 69 
Cmne again t Sweet ...... 44 
Corne again ! that I ...... 44 
Corne away ! come ...... 40 
Corne away ! corne ...... 
"' Corne, gentle Death ! 205 
Corne, heavy Sleep ! ...... 4"/ 
Came, my llus ! ......... 
Corne, Shadov of my ... 47 
Corne, when 
Corne, ye beavy States 528 
Corne, You Virgms of ... 5_'28 
Ct'vlOO (unto whose ...... 54 
Daphne was hot so ...... 613 
Dear!ifl do ............... 38 
Dear, if you change ! ... 38 
Ilear ! let me die ......... 648 
Dear '. when I from thee 37 
Declare the griefs ......... 273 
I fie hot before thy day ! 53 
Disdain me still ............ 648 
19o as thou ¢aouldst ...... 3on 
2)oŒEEvn /ter che'ks, t/te ... 509 
Down vain lights ! ...... 523 
Each hour, amidst ......... 44 
Each natural thing ...... 295 
Ear m,er ]teard of ...... 405 
Earth with ber flowers... 38 
Etza, till this hour ...... 319 
Enough of this ! ............ 275 
're 1 Itad t¢vice ......... 480 
" Every woman ". ........ 58 
Example we have ....... 
Experience which ......... 
Failed of that hap ......... 289 
Fain would I sp.ak ...... 269 
Fain would ] tel/. ........ 403 
Fair is my Love ! ......... 265 
Fair! Since thv ............ 433 
Fair tree, but fruitless! 273 
Fair with garlands ...... 
False World ! farewell ! 653 
arewell .................... 477 
Farewell, too fait 
Farewell, too dear 
Faresvell, Unkind ! ...... 639 
Fast fixèd in my heart... 262 
Fear to offend forbids ... 
Fie on this feigning ! ... 62o 
Fine knacks for ladies ! 526 
Flow my tears ! ......... 523 
Flow hot so fast ............ 64 
Fly, mv Breast ! ......... 52o 
"Forif thy htart ......... 432 



8 FIRST LINES OF POEMS AND STANZAS. 

PAGE 
Fo oE g[tou $/talg hot ... 493 
For like t«vo sults ........ 
o Le bath kiutled 404 
For my heart, thougl= ... 53o 
Far next, s&all t&2 ...... 507 
r on /ny d[/z ............ 48I 
«, Wav $uld cve da ...... 433 
Far ;tdten ] OEuak[n ...... 4o3 
From Fame's desire ...... 5m5 
From silent night ......... 653 
Fui! hard it is ............ 55 
Gent]e HENRIETTE ...... 
Genfle Love dmw ...... 45 
Genlle Sct,aln ! ............ 49 ° 
God ÇUPID'S short ....... 47 
Go, night[y caoes  ......... 653 
o ¢aantans, n«e ......... 435 
Great glfts are i[es ... 
Greal mon ]cave ]=els ... 
Great, er Gaod ............ ¢55 
¢;reat, or (;ood er ......... 580 
GrieÇ Mas, thouh ...... 65 ° 
Gfieve hot thyselL ........ 
 [ a [($trc$s ......... 405 
Hai], fair Beauties  ...... 387 
Hall ! thou Fairt ...... 358 
]tay are t]Æe$e ......... ¢9 ° 
Hark, you shadowsl ... 523 
Haste hap]ess sighs f ... 39 
Heart's Ease and I ...... 
Nonce, aay ! ............ 
Her body is straight ...... 6 
Here may you find ...... m59 
Here PHIL'ARET did ... 488 
Her rires do inward ...... 65 
Her Grace, rike June ... 533 
Her heapèd virtue ...... 68 
He's a#ol, tlt ......... 
lIe tt (ourtly ......... 
Me that in matters ...... m95 
Ho that receiveth al[ ... 649 
His golden ]oeks ......... ¢5 
His ho!met, now ......... 46 
Hope by disdain ......... 43 
How friendly was ......... 65 
" Hozoglmt, andtin ... ¢oi 
How happy, on . ....... 29o 
" How migh ] that ...... 6t 4 
How shall 1 thon ......... 3¢ 
How vain is Youth ...... m95 
Humour say I ............... 53 
I ara no Italian loyer ... 36 
1 ara hOt sick and yet... 6¢ 
] ara now indined ......... 534 
l die ! ........................ 478 
] da $co, to vo ......... 428 
ff aa mon caùld ......... 
If any carp, for that ...... ¢9¢ 
If any eye therefore ...... 654 
] fore ]ike him who ...... 9 
If CYNTHIA crave ......... 48 
f 1 shou[d tel[ ............ 

PAGE 
If I speak ! .................. 4x 
Ifit be Love ............... 264 
If love doth make ......... 36 
If Music and sweet ...... 
If my complaints ......... 36 
If no delays con more ... 43 
If she, at last ............... 47 
]fshe esteem the ........ 46 
If she for this ............... 35 
If she will yield to ......... 37 
lf such weak gltotGottts,.. 424 
I-f that in ooght nfine ... 26¢ 
If that these men, ......... 63 
l_f vou boast that ......... 485 
I bave a Lave that's ... 424 
I ltave else2olwre ......... ¢27 
1/cave/teard rirai ......... 382 
I bave velSt, and ......... 
Fil go to the woods ...... 650 
I'm no slacte go sucœe ...... 427 
In any book a[so ......... 69 
|n company .................. 273 
In general, we wo|]in ... 54 
lngratefu[ LOVE I ......... 289 
In ber presence ail ......... 534 
In ]ooking bock ............ 293 
In midst of winter ......... 268 
| n my Legend of ......... 65 
In prime of Youth ......... 295 
In Reason's Curt ......... 276 
In son, APOLLO .az,e 403 
In site of otkes" kate$ 386 
In tlwse lenely oerove$ ... 492 
In ghese thou¢ht« ......... 488 
In vain do we ............... 290 
" I pray thee, teHI ...... 267 
I saw my Lady weep !... 522 
fs this a fait avaunt 
I kat bave oft ............ 480 
I to a thousand ............ 48* 
It was a rime when ...... 620 
h wa_s my chance ......... 
I ¢oandered out ............ 455 
I will no longer spend ... 93 
I svill hot call for aid ... 59 
Judge hot by this ......... 260 
Justice gives each ......... 532 

A'tew ] nty Love ......... 481 
Leave me ! tlzen ......... 429 
Lend your ears to my ... 6z7 
Let love which never ... 46 
Let hot thy tongue ...... 275 
Let those doters on ...... 360 
Like to a man that ...... 289 
Like to the silver ......... 6x 3 
Like to the winds ......... 39 
Lines te saine ............... 382 
Long bave I ............... 268 
Lo here, the Record ...... 96 
Loose/dleness ! ............ 294 
Lordly Gallanls ! ......... 484 
Love and I are uow ...... 283 
Love and ¥outh ............ 283 
LovEI Art thou blind? 268 
Love causèd GOD ...... x53 
Love GOD, abave ......... 
Love is honey mixed ... 283 

Love is sorrow mixt ...... 284 
Love is the sickness ...... 284 
LOVE now no more ...... 612 
LOVE. then I must ...... 65o 
LOYERS' Conceits ......... 
Loyers, lament I ......... 275 
Love stood amazed ...... 6t6 
Love I those beams ...... 65o 
L ute ! A rise and ......... 520 
Malice of women ! ......... 66 
Many one eke would ... 58 
[ARGARtTA first ......... 3X9 
MaCTA soon did it ... 3x9 
M,tv thon, and ......... 320 
l'ans aff ha'bour. ........ 
Meanwhile, vouchsafe... 260 
Me ! me ! and none ...... 6t 3 
Ah'n, alas, are loo ...... 38t 
Mon bearing, eke ......... 64 
31en sayhl that out ...... 66 
Mirth, thon, is ............ 534 
2lis, bend hot a mortiatg 504 
Most sacred Queen ! ... 276 
Mount, thon, my ......... 65a 
Mourn ! Da)- is with ...... 54 
Mourn I Look, now ...... 524 
Alnclt g'ood do't tlwm ... 493 
My fair ALCILA  ......... 267 
My Heart and Tongue 654 
Aly Iteart isJull nik ... 480 
My heart where ]tare ... 
My liege ! gods grant ... 
iXly Love, by chance 266 
/Xly love doth rage ...... 42 
/'y merry mates ! ......... 654 
*' Aly only Dear l'" . ..... 399 
My songs, they be ...... 48 
My Thoughts are ......... 35 
My SVlRIT, | .............. 286 
2r2ffRCISSUS like ......... 482 
Nature two eyes ......... 528 
Nay, think hot Love !... 
Ne no wight disceiveth 67 
Noyer hour of pleasing... 41 
New round, and only ... 65¢ 
No charge is what ......... 62 
2Yow ca»ces ]tiliter ...... 490 
No ! No ! Where ......... 36 
No pain so great ......... 
No sooner had the ...... 474 
2Vte o/me .................. 486 
Nought con I say ......... 64 
No vt lgar blts$ ......... 4"4 
NOW cease my ............ 527 
.Nozv Grace is of such ... I53 
Now have I spun ......... 
Now holdith this ......... 70 
Now LOVE sits ail alone 294 
Now none is bald ......... 525 
Now, O now ............... 37 
Now prick on fast I ...... 58 
No¢v, ] "au,rg 2Ian ! ...... 504 
O crystal tears ! ............ 39 
0 do hot smile af ......... 480 
O'ertrled by cruel. ........ 402 
O, every man ought ...... 60 
O fairer thon ought ...... 



FIRST LINES OF POLIceS AND STANZAS. 9 

IAGE 
0 la'test mhad ............ 
Oft have I dreamed ...... 6x 5 
Off have tire 1Vym#/ta ... 404 
Of thy worth, this ......... 
Of Troy aiso ............... 65; 
Of twelve &postles ...... 60 
«, 0 Heaz,ens ! '" ¢uotl ... 4oo 
O, how honoured are ... 436 
O, I ara as heavy ......... 5;34 
O, i)¢ s]te maybe ............ 483 
"0, if che Noblest ...... 4Ol 
O judge me hot ............ 270 
Once did I love ............ 288 
Once, I lived ! ............ 6i-r 
Once, in a dream . ........ 482 
One man hath but one.. 527 
One month, three days 32o 
On ea,ery I, us]t, tire ...... 43 ° 
On this Glass of thy ...... 36o 
Open che sluices ........ 
0tity 11te, yo Pozvers... 404 
O, rather let »te die ...... 385 
O, sweet words ............ 525 
O chat Love should ...... 529 
O chat thy sleep ......... 4 ° 
Out, alas ! my faith ...... 45 
Ovto, in his book ......... 6i 
O well were it, Iature... 269 
O what a life ............... 292 
O, vl'«ct are we ............ 432 
O what bath ............... 
O, v]ty ltad l a heart ... 
Out wished wealth hath x69 
Pale Jealousy ! ............ 27i 
Pardie I this Cerk ......... 63 
Parting from thee ! ...... 270 
tarz,e li3er l)omini. ..... 257 
Passing ail landis ......... 54 
Pausing a while ............ 
P«ruse a,ith talle»cee ... 
Pity is but a poor ......... 532 
Poor COLLIN ;.rleve$ ... 482 
Poor, or Bad, or ......... 58o 
Praise blindness ........... 
Pray we, therefore ...... t69 
Princes hold conceit ...... 533 
lroud cite *eemed ......... 429 
Rest awhile .................. 
Retire, my wandering... 274 
Sad Eyes ! IVhat do you 384 
Sad pining Care ......... 39 
«, Say, Love ! if ever ...... 6i 3 
Say. yau purchase ...... 
See]; ta raise yaur ......... 485; 
See [ these trees ............ 45;7 
Shall a woman's vices ... 5;9 
Skall a voman's ......... 518 
S]lall a q.voma»z'$ ......... 454 
Shall I, mine ............... 
Shall I strive with ......... 65o 
Shall I sue ? ............... 53x 
S/ml/I s'wear ............. 381 
Shall I, wasting in ...... 454 
Skall I, ¢Pa$1in ........ 
Shall my foolisl heart ... 578 
Skall then, in earnest... 385 
• $'ht, little movid witk... 400 

PAGE 
Sltauld myfoollslt ......... 578 
Slcould my ]tearl be ...... 454 
Should then my love ... 4o 
Show some relenting !... 62o 
Silly wretch ! Forsake _. 53 
"Since REaSON ought... 278 
Since you desire ......... 269 
Sleep is a reconciling !... 69 
Sleep now., my Muse !... 272 
Sleep wayward thoughts 42 
Some say t]tat ............ ,1.25 
Something I want ; ...... 264 
Sometimes 1 seek for ... 269 
SomeTeltat, then, 1 ...... 5o 
So movingly these ..... 479 
So ntuc]t grief ............ 509 
So powerful is the ......... 
Sorrow! Sorrow, stay! 523 
Sorrow, to see my ......... 653 
Sorrow was there ruade 522 
Sa Chose virtues ............ 493 
Stay awhile I my ......... 622 
Stay, happy pair ! ......... 656 
Stay, merry mates ...... 655 
Stay TtME, awhile ...... 65t 
"Slill keep t]ty /'orekead 402 
Still, vhen any vooèd... 5fo 
Straiffltt on me ske ...... 5o9 
Such are thy parts ...... 267 
Such beams infitsèd ...... 
Suc]t equal sa,eet ......... 455 
« Sveel lateart ! " ......... 453 
Sweet ! stay awhile ! ...... 648 
Sweet Summer ! ............ 533 
Take me, ASSV^NCE! 532 
Tears but augment ..... 652 
Tell »»te, my ]tearg ! ...... 383 
Tell me, TRVE Love !... 652 
T/cal Gai/a»zd/hase ... 5o6 
That GOD's true ,Vord 169 
Tltat Foreltead ............ 505 
That Lu$t, ¢v]ti«lt tlty... 507 
T]t Strocgtlt ............ 504 
The acts ofAges past ... 405 
The ancient poets write 266 
The child, for ever ...... 292 
The Cynic being asked 270 
The day I see is clear ... 6x8 
The days are now corne 272 
"l'hee ! entirely ............ 360 
The envious swelling ... 67 
Thee ! unknowt ......... 509 
The tire of Love ......... 274 
The /'ame o./" Laz,e ......... 15;.] 
Tire ffrief wltereaf ...... 399 
The Ladies ever ......... 61 
The Ladies smiledoft ... 483 
The longest day ............ 285 
The lowest trees ......... 
The more che virtue ...... 
Their wordis, spoken ... 55 
"l"hen ai1 those rare ...... 505 
Then, as I, on Thee ...... 362 
Then front high rock ... 616 
Then his tears ............ 6t6 
Then I forthwith took... 6t8 
Then Love and FOLLY 286 
Tlœen, O, wky so ......... 492 

PAGE 
Then more t follow ...... 64 
Then sit thee down ! ...... 524 
Tttet 77cou, tkat art ... 502 
Then thus 1 buzzed ...... 620 
Then kal nct, study... 383 
Then, while their loves 362 
Then will i thus ......... 7o 
The painful ploughman 269 
Tko'e, a Ja untain ......... 5o9 
Therbre ltaz,e l/te ...... 492 
Therefore knov  ......... 429 
Therore on my ......... 508 
There lin,es no S«o.ffn ... 48x 
There was but One ...... 
These faults had ......... 85 
These Ladies ............... 63 
These, tky flocks da ...... 49 ° 
The Spring of Vouth ... 
The snn bath tice ...... 96 
The sweet content ...... 68 
The tender Sprigs ......... 274 
" l'he things we have ... z93 
The time will corne ...... 
Tke dskz «J the ......... 
The worth that ........... 48 
Think'st thou, then ...... 39 
This Beauty shews ...... 612 
Tlds I knott,itt,, did ... 382 
This, thy Picture ......... 36x 
77wse Ears, lkou ......... 505 
Tlzose yes, t,kt?]t ...... 506 
Tltose #kncles that ...... 507 
/'hase Lips, t,lzcreot ... 506 
Those sorry books ......... 6x 
« 1"/rose tkal haz'e set ... 4oz 
Those, that 3htresses 
Tlwse tresses afr ... 5o5 
Tkose, cvhom the ......... 489 
Though a stranger ...... 359 
Thoult 1 ainly do ...... 485 
Though little sgn ......... 
Thoug'lz  daiuti«s ...... 486 
Though thou be fait ...... 
Though thy praise ...... 358 
Tough you Lordil ...... 489 
T/mu, tlwir [ally ......... 49  
Thou, to no man ......... 
"1 bus have 1 long ......... 288 
Thus Love ami Grace 53 
Thus, Precious Gem  ... 69 
Thus sang the Nymph  493 
Thy Action ............ 490 
Thy grief in my deep ... 36 
Thy large smooth ......... 95 
Thy lca,e .................. 477 
Thy jaints a re yet ...... 5o 4 
Tlty etlz. l/ml stood... 5 
Time can abate the ...... 615 
Time's eldest son ......... 524 
Time stands still ......... 6xx 
'Tis hot the vain ......... 619 
'Tis lhe Eye that ......... 38 
To ail, save me ............ 44 
To ask for ail thy love ... 649 
"To err and do ami ... 29o 
To her  Nay ! ......... 56 
To her, then, yield ...... 6i 4 
To Master JEAu ......... 64 
To paint her outward ... 



IO FIP, ST LINES OF POEIS AND STANZaS. 

PAGE 
To seek adventures ...... 263 
To slaunder women ...... 59 
To thee, ALC[L[A I ...... 
"1"o thyself, the ............ 529 
Toss hot my souI ......... 532 
To vhom shall I ......... 651 
Truc love cannot ......... 43 
Trust. Perfect Love ... 66 
Truth is hOt placed ...... 6o 
'Twixt Hope and Fear... 
o retty rills do ...... 363 
"' Uncouth, unkist ......... 
Unhappy Eyes ! ......... 
Unquiet thoughts  ...... 34 
Unwise was he, that ...... 
Un the altar here ... 270 
Upon the ocean ............ 75 
Vows, and oaths ......... 52 
Il l'iuKlo  leasant... 508 
XVas 1 so base, that I ... 37 
Weep you no more ...... 6, 9 
Veep hot apace ............ 6x 4 
Welcome, black Night... 635 
Vere eve thought ...... 65z 
Were Love a Fire ........ 265 
What ahhough in ......... 359 
What. ara I dead  ......... 264 
'" ll'kag g-oodly thing ... 433 
11 "lmt hopes kave 1 ...... 384 
What if 1 never ............ 6i 5 
11 "kat t tke cause ......... 
"' What is the cause ...... 266 
'" IV/,tt 1 oaking ......... 
What, Jou Bo  ...... *o 3 
What poor astronome 6 
What thing is Beuuty? 9 
What thing is Love? ... 89 
I "bat lhoug]z my ......... 384 
When AeXAD ...... x68 
When A*usosv died .. x65 
Vhen AKUEt PALMER I62 
Vhn AWCOCK, in ...... 55 
When blessèd EUTTER... 
When ]RADBRIDGg ...... 15 
When ER.«voa ......... x56 
I l "/*en brigkt ............... 508 
When constant ............ 
When DAuu deoeased ... x6 
When DI.V died ...... z56 
When DIICK ............ x56 
When DVSTON ......... x6 
When fair RCCA ...... 32o 
Vhen FOTUgE ......... 6 
Whcn GEORGE EGLES... ,6 
When Gov». ............ 158 
XVhen godly Gou ...... x59 
'hen HULLIARDE ...... 160 
Il "/Wt I ]««¢ rgacA¢d ... 4o4 
Il "/ot in g]rZdom ...... 488 
When I swore my ......... 52 
Wben Ja[c]so ......... 
When JoA ............... 
• When Jo Dvv ...... x68 
When Jo FsCoKE ... x6 
When Jox Fos*A ... x62 
When Jou H,mu ...... x6 
Wen Jou Ls» ...... 

PAGE 
vrhen Jo Lnwr, SA$ ... x59 
When JouN NRWM,XN... X57 
When JouN O*OLD ... 
When Jout R«)UGHE ... x66 
When JovcE 13OWES ...... 166 
When K,.THRtINE ..... 
When, last of ail ......... x69 
When LAtIRENCE ......... 157 
When learnèd R[OLEV... x58 
When Iowly LIbTRR ...... I6Z 
When iM ARGART ......... I6. 
Il "lten on my bed ......... 48 
Il "heu otlwr uoble ......... 386 
When others sing ......... 525 
11 "kett IItlI.O.IIIiLA ... 43 ° 
When raging reign ...... t54 
When RAçENSDALE ...... x63 
Vehen RICHARD ............ 56 
Vhen RICHARD ROOTH 66 
Vhen RICHARD %MITH I58 
When RICHARD YEMAN 168 
,V heu RoGER$ ............ 154 
When RoWLAND ......... 
¥ben AM[IEI ............. 157 
When shall Contention... x7 
When shall Jerusalem... x7o 
When shall out minds ... 
XVhen shall that Man ... 7 
When shall that painted 171 
Vhen shall the ............ XTO 
Vhen shall the blood ... XTr 
When shallthe faithful.., x72 
When shall the mind ... xTo 
When shall the serpents 
Vhen shall the SPIRI'I" 7 I 
When shall the rime ...... ]7 o 
Vhen shall theTrump.., x7 
When shall the walls ... [7 o 
When shall this flesh ... z72 
When shall this lire ...... 
When shall this tinle ... 7 o 
When shall Thy Christ... 
When shall Thy Spouse 
Vhen shall ]'rue ......... 
When SOUTHaN ......... ]67 
When SPAROW ............ 66 
Vhen ST.tNLEV'S wife.., i64 
XVhen SPENCER ............ 163 
When sudden chance ... 63 
When TANKERFIELDE... 157 
When ten, at ............... 165 
When that JOHN ......... x6 
When the high GL)D ... 59 
When the weaver ......... 
When TI-IOMAS FINALL 164 
When TUOMAS T.'LER... x68 
When TUOMA$ ...... 
When TSOMAS ............ t59 
When thoughts are ...... 65u 
When three, wlthin ...... o3 
When -'H U RSTON'S ...... 
When ToK NS ............ 55 
When two at Ashford ... 6 
When two men ............ i61 
When two women ......... t6o 
When WtoD the ......... 6 
When W,XM ............ x68 
When Wt.L[AM ......... 6 
Whe  WLL,XM ............ 65 

pAGI - 
Whe Wttu,xl ............ 
When W t.t.,x ! ............ J56 
When WULhXM ............ 55 
When XV[LLIAM ALLEN 157 
When WlI.LIAM HARRIS x67 
XVhen 'II.LIAM NICOLL x67 
When worthyWATwS.., x55 
When worthy W ...... 59 
I'/t«t yauraults ......... 486 
Il "hcn yuv k«as ...... 487 
Where[ore I say ......... 67 
Il "re[om, luse  ...... 
Wherefore proceedeth ... 58 
Where, retchless boy  .. 6x 
Where wate smoothest 
Il "]teg]r tkrallèd ......... 49 z 
II'ltich ç[ l flnd ............ 
While selon ed to... 
Whilom, for many ........ 6 
ll'ldlst tkus s spake... 
White  lilies w ...... 58 
Whoever thinks, or ...... 35 
Who seats his love ...... 
Who snds the weary 
Who thinks that ......... 35 
Who wuld  rapt ...... 9x 
lb'ky are idk br, ffns ...... 
bVIty court I tky ......... 453 
Il "hy do foolik nten ...... 
'" tt hy do I fomlly ...... 
Why should I love ...... 
Why should we hope ... 
Wilt thou  abusèd ...... 37 
Wilt thou, Unkind  ...... 
I¢ïth hand n kand ...... 43 ° 
Within this pack ......... 57 
Wth piW moved ......... 66 
11 ïlk pleasant loil ...... 43 
11 "itk that dismayed ... 
Il "itlt lhal, 1/ell ......... 434 
Woful Heart, oltoe ...... 53o 
Vmnan forsoke Him ... 69 
Womanis heart ............ 66 
Women were made ...... 
Vould my conceit ......... 44 
Wretched is he that ...... 73 
] C, and  that tkinks 
Yet  thou mi»dml ...... 43 
] ', ere, m ees ......... 405 
Yet, if you pipée ......... 649 
Yet in this, Thou ......... 36z 
] t I would hot ........... 
Yet was this sinnè ......... 68 
1 u are pleè,L ........... 487 
You cannot, every day... 649 
]  do bra,el ............ 487 
I ou Gallants, bot ...... 45 
] u çeul, e .)'mlts l ... 48o 
]t« tta boag ............ 484 
You men that give ...... 5z6 
tu ner teok so ......... 435 
Young men shall ......... 36o 
You that, ata blush ...... 37 ° 
Yothful Desire is ...... 
You woods  in you ...... 5z6 
] u w,,ody Hills ! ...... 4o 



Vo. IV. 

ROBERT TOMSON, of Andover, Merchant. 

Fg, aze to ttc lPest Indies and Mexico, 
1556-15.58, A.D. 
[HAKLUYT. l.royao«es, x589-] 
The inarvel is, that at this date, these Englishmen were allowed to go to 
New Spain at ail ; it was probably one of the results of the marriage 
of PHILIP with I[ARV TUE)OR. LAKE FIELD, and TOMSON were 
probably the first British islanders who reached the city of Mexico. 
This narrative also gives us an account of the first aulo-da-fd in that 
cit.y. 



ÇR. Toms rn- 
I2 TOMSON STA¥S A YEAR AT EVILLE, / . »» 

O13ERT TOMSON, born in the town of 
Andover, in Hampshire, began his travels 
out of England in the month of March, 
anno 1553 Il.e., 1554] ; ;vho departinx out of 
the city of I3ristol in company of other 
merchants of the said city, in a good ship 
called the bark Young, within ei.:ht days 
after, arrived at Lisbon, at Pol'tugal : vhere 

the said ROBERT TOMSON remained fifteen days. At the end 
of which, he shipped himself for Spain in the said ship, and 
within four davs arrlved in the bay of Cadiz in Andalusia. which 
is under the kndom of Spain : and from thence, travelled up 
to the city of Seville by land, which is twenty leagues; and 
there, he repaired to the house of one JOHN FIELD, an 
English merchant who had dwelt in the said city of Seville 
«ighteen or twenty years married, with wife and children. 
In whose house, the said To.tsoN remained by the space of 
one whole year or thereabout, for two causes" the one, to 
learn the Castilian tongue; the other, to see the orders of 
the country, and the customs of the people. 
At the end of which time, having seen the fleets of ships 
corne out of the [West Indies to that city, with such great 
quantity of gold and silver, pearls, precious stones, sugar, 
hides, ginger, and divers other rich commodities; he did 
determine vith himself to seek means and opportunity to 
pass over to see that rich country, from whence such a great 
ctuantity of rich commodities came. 
And it fell out, that within short rime after, the said JoHtJ 
FIELD, where the said ToMsol vas lodged, did determine to 
pass over into the \Vest Indies himself, with his wife, chil- 
dren, and family : and, at the request of the said TOMO, he 
purchased a license of the King, to pass into the Indies, for 
himself, wife, and children ; and among them, also, for the said 
ToMsol to pass with them. So that presently they made 
preparation of victuals and other necessary provision for the 
voyage. But the ships which were prepared to perform the 
voyage being all ready to depart, were, upon certain con- 
siderations by the King's commandment, stayed and arrested, 
till further should be known of the King's pleasure. 



R. Tomson.- 1 
. xSS»_]AND TIIEN STARTS FOR IEXICO. I3 

Whereupon, the said JorN 17IELD, xvith his company and 
ROBERT TOMSON (being departed out of Seville, and come 
down to San Lucar de Barrameda, fifteen leagues off) seeing 
the stay made upon the ships ot the said fleet, and BOt being 
assured when they would depart, determined to ship them- 
selves for the isles of the Canaries, which are 250 leagues 
from San Lucar, and there to stav till the said fleet should 
corne hither; for that is continua'lly their port to make star 
at, six or eight days, to take fresh water, bread, flesh, and 
other necessaries. 
So that in the month of February, in a-nno I555, the said 
ROBERT TOMSON, with the said Jomq FIELD and his com- 
pany, shipped themseives in a caravel of the city of Cadiz, 
out of the town of San Lucar; and within six days, they 
arrived at the port of the Grand Canary: where at out 
coming, the ships that rode in the said port began to cry out 
of all measure, with loud voices: insomuch that the Castle, 
xvhich stood fast bv. began to shoot at us, and shot six or 
eight shot at us, and struck down our mainmast before we 
could hoist out our boat to go on land to know what the 
cause of the shootlng was; seeing that we were Spanish 
ships, and coming into our country. 
So that being on land, and complaining of the wrong and 
damage done unto us; they answered that "they had thought 
we had been French rovers, that had corne into the said port 
to do some harm to the ships that were there." For that 
eight days past, there xvent out of the said port a caravel 
much like unto ours, ladened with sugar.s and other merchan- 
dise for Spain; and on the other side of the Point of the 
said island, met with a French Man of War : which took the 
said caravel, and unladed out of her into the said French 
ship, both men and goods. And it being demanded of the 
said Spaniards, " What other ships remained in the port 
xvhence they came?"; they answered, "There remained 
divers other ships, and one ladened with sugars as they 
were, and ready to depart for Spain." Upon the xvhich 
news, the Frenchmen put thirty tall men of their ship, well 
appointed, into the said caravel that they had taken, and 
sent her back again to the said port fl'om whence she had 
departed the day before. 
Somewhat late towards evening, she came into port, BOt 



VR. Tomson- 
14 ENGLISH FACTORS AT TIIE CANARIES. 1_ t ,ssT. 

:,howing past three or four men" and so came to an anchor 
hard by the other ships that were in the said port. Being 
seen by the Castle and by the sald ships, they ruade no 
rcckoning of her, because they knev her: and thinking that 
she had found contrary winds at the sea, or having forgotten 
something behind them, they had returned back again for the 
saine, they ruade no account of her. but let her alone riding 
quietly among the other ships in the said port. So that 
about midnight, the said caravel, with the Frenchmen in her, 
went aboard [touched] the other ship that lay hard by, ladened 
with sugars; and driving the Spaniards that were in her 
under the hatches, presently let slip ber cables and anchors, 
and set sail and carried ber clean away: and after this sort, 
deceived them. And they thinking or fearing that we were 
the like, did shoot at us as they did. 
ïhis being past : the next day after our arrival in the said 
port, ve did unbark ourselves, and went on land up to the 
city or head town of the Grand Canaria, vhere we remained 
eighteen or twenty days ; and there round certain Englishmen, 
merchants, servants of ANTHONY HICKMAN and EDWARD 
CaSTELI, merchants in the city of London, that lay there 
for trafficœ of whom ve received great courtesy and much 
good cheer. 
After the vhich twenty days being past, in »vhich we had 
seen the country, the people, and the disposition thereof; we 
departed from thence, and passed to the next isle of the 
Canaries, eighteen leagues off, called Teneriffe; and being 
corne on land, went up to the city called La Laguna : where 
we remained seven months, attending the coming of the 
whole fleet, which, in the end, came; and there having 
taken that which they had need of, we shipped ourselves in a 
ship of Cadiz, being one of the said fleet, belonging to an 
Englishman married in the city of Cadiz in Spain, whose 
name vas JotN SWEE'r:t;. There came in the said ship as 
Captain, an Englishman also, whose naine was LEONaRD 
CmLTON, married in Cadiz, and son-in-lav to the said Jot 
V'EEING : and another Englishman also, whose name was 
RALPH SaRRE, came in the saine ship, vhich had been a 
merchant of the city of Exeter; one of fifty years of age or 
thereabouts. 
So that we departed from the said islands in the month of 



R. Tom«om'] SANTO DOINGO IN 1555 I5 
? 57.J • 

October, the foresaid year [1555], eight ships in our company, 
and so directed our course towards the Bay of New Spain 
[Gulf of Mcxico]; and, by the way, towards the island or 
Santo Domingo, otherwise cal]ed Hispaniola: so that within 
forty-two days [i.e., in December] after we departed from the 
said islands of Canaries, we arrived with out ship at the 
port of Santo Domingo; and went in over the bar, where out 
ship knocked her keel at her entry. There our ship rid [rode] 
before the town; where we went on land, and refreshed 
ourselves sixteen days. 
There we found no bread ruade of wheat, but biscuit 
brought out of Spain, and out of the Bay of Mexico. For 
the country itself doth yield no kind of grain to make bread 
withal : but the bread they make there, is certain cakes made 
of roots called cassavia; which is something substantial, but it 
hath an unsavoury taste in the eating thereof. Flesh of beef 
and mutton, they have great store; for there are men that 
have IO,OOO head of cattle, of oxen, bulls, and kine, which 
they do keep only for the hides: for the quantity of flesh is 
so great, that they are not able to spend the hundredth part. 
Of hog's flesh is there goed store, very sveet and savoury; 
and so wholesome that they give it to sick folks to eat, 
instead of hens and capons : although they have good store of 
poultry of that sort, as also of guinea cocks and guinea hens. 
At the rime of our being there, the city of Santo Domingo 
was not of above 500 households of Spaniards: but of the 
Indians dweliing in the suburbs, there were more. The 
country is, most part of the year, very hot : and very full of 
a kind of files or gnats with long bills [mosquitos], which do 
prick and molest the people very much in the night when 
they are asleep, in pricking their faces and hands and other 
parts of their bodies that lie uncovered, and make them to 
swell wonderfully. Also there is another kind of small worm, 
which creepeth into the soles of men's feet, and especially of 
the Black Moors [Indians] and children which use to go 
barefoot, and maketh their feet to grow as big as a man's 
head, and doth so ache that it would make one run mad. 
They bave no remedy for the saine, but to open the flesh, 
sometimes three or four inches, and so dig them out. 
The country yieldeth great store of sugar, hides of oxen, 
bulls and kine, ginger, ca»a fistula, and sals«parilla. Mines 



R. Tomson. 
16 I-IURRICANE IN THE GULF OF IEXIC. [_ . ,»s» 

of silver and gold there are none ; but in some rivers, there 
is found some small quantity of gold. The principal coin 
that they do traffic vithal in that place is black money, ruade 
of copper and brass: and this they say they do use, hot for 
that they lack money of gold and silver to trade vithal out 
of the other parts of [\Vest] India, but because, if they 
should have good money, the merchants that deal with them 
in trade would carry away their gold and silver, and let the 
country commodities lie still. And thus much for Santo 
Domingo. So we were, coming from the isles of Canaries 
to Santo Domingo, and staying there, until the month of 
December: which was three months. 
About the beginning of January [I556], we departed thence 
tovards the Bay of Mexico and Nev Spain ; towards which 
we set our course, and so sailed twenty-four days, till we 
came vithin fifteen leagues of San Juan de Ulua, which was 
the port of Mexico of our right discharge. 
And being so near our said port, there rose a storm of 
northerly winds which came off from Tcrra Florida; which 
caused us to cast about into the sea again, fol fear lest that 
night we should be cast upon the shore before day did break, 
and so put ourselves in danger of castin away. The wind 
and sea grew so foul and strong, that, within two hours after 
the storm began, nine ships that were together, vere so 
dispersed, that we could not see one another. 
One of the ships of our company, being of the burden of 
500 tons, called the " Hulk of Carion," would not cast about 
to sea, as we did; but went that night with the land: 
thinking in the morning to purchase the port of San Juan 
de Ulua; but missing the port, went with the shore, and was 
cast away. There were drowned of that ship, seventy-five 
persons, men, vomen, and children; and sixty-four were saved 
that could swim, and had means to save themselves. Among 
those that perished in that ship, was a gentleman who had 
been Pres[id]ent the year beforein Santo Domingo, his wife and 
four daughters, with the rest of his servants and household. 
We, with the other seven ships, cast about into the sea, the 
storm [en]during ten days with great might, boisterous winds, 
fogs, and rain. Our ship, being old and weak, was so tossed 
that she opened at the stern a fathom under water, and the 
best remedy we had was to stop it vith beds and pilobiers 



R. Tomson.'] THE¥ ABANDON THEIR SINKING SHIP. 17 
! x587./ 

[? pillows for litters] : and for fear of sinking we threw and 
lightened into the sea ail the goods we had, or could come 
by ; but that would not serve. 
Then we cut our mainmast, and threw all our ordnance 
into the sea, saving one piece ; which, early in a morning, 
when we thought we should have sunk, we shot off: and, as 
it pleased GOD, there was one of the ships of our company 
near unto us, which we saw not by means of the great fog; 
which hearing the sound of the piece, and understanding 
some of the company to be in great extremity, began to make 
towards us, and when they came within hearing of us, we 
desired them "for the love of G0D ! to help to save us, for 
that we were ail like to perish !" They willed us "to hoist 
our foresail as much as we could, and make towards them ; 
for they would do their best to save us ;" and so we did. 
And we had no sooner hoisted our foresail, but there came 
a gale of wind ; and a piece of sea struck in the foresail, and 
carried avay sail and mast ail overboard : so that then we 
thought there was no hope of life. And then we began to 
embrace one another, every man his friend, every wife her 
husband, and the children their fathers and mothers; com- 
mitting our souls to Almighty GOD, thinking never to escape 
alive. Yet it pleased GOD, in the rime of most need, when 
ail hope was past, to aid us with His helping hand, and 
caused the wind a little to cease; so that within two hours 
after, the other ship was able to corne aboard us, and took 
into her, with her boat, man, woman and child, naked without 
hose, or shoes upon many of our feet. 
I do remember that the last person that came out of the 
ship into the boat was a woman Black Moore [Indian] ; who 
leaping out of the ship into the boat, with a young sucking 
child in her arms, leapt too short, and fell into the sea, and 
was a good while underthe water before the boat could corne 
to rescue her: and, with the spreading of her clothes rose 
above vater again, and was caught by the coat and pulled 
into the boat, having still her child under her arm, both of 
them half drowned; and yet her natural love towards her 
child would not let her let the child go. And when she came 
aboard the boat, she held her child so fast under her arm 
still, that two men were scant able to get it out. 
So we departed out of our ship, and left it in the sea. It 
E'VG. G. IV.  



18 TIIEV ARRIV AT SAN JUAN DE ULUA. [R. Tomo.. 
. "  ? x587. 

was worth 400,000 ducats [= about IOO,OOO .then -" about 
9oo,ooo now], ship and goods, when we left it. 
Within three days after, we arrived at our port of San Juan 
de Ulua, in New Spain. 
I do remember that in the great and boisterous storm of 
this foui weather, in the night there came upon the top of 
our mainyard and mainmast, a certain little light, much like 
unto the light of a little candle, which the Spaniards called 
the corpos sancto, and said " It was Saint ELMO " [see Vol. 111. 
ib.417],whom they take to be the advocate of sailors. At which 
sight, the Spaniards fell down upon their knees and wor- 
shipped it: praying GOD and Saint ELMO to cease the 
torment, and save them from the peril they were in; with 
promising him that, on their coming on land, they would repair 
unto lais chapel, and there cause masses to be said, and other 
ceremonies to be done. The friars [did] cast relics into the 
sea, to cause the sea to be still, and likewise said Gospels, 
with other crossings and ceremonies upon the sea to make 
the storm to cease: which, as they said, did much good to 
weaken the fury of the storm. But I could hOt perceive it, 
nor gave any credit to it ; till it pleased GOD to send us the 
remedy, and delivered us fl'om the rage of the same. His 
name be praised therefore ! 
This light continued aboard our ship about three hours, 
flying from toast to toast, and from top to top ; and sometimes 
it would be in two or three places at once. I informed myself 
of learned men afterward, what this light should be ? and they 
said that " It was but a congelation of the wind and vapours 
of the sea congealed with the extremity of the weather, and 
so flying in the wind, many times doth chance to hit the 
toasts and shrouds of the ship that are at sea in foui weather." 
And, in truth, I do take it to be so : for that I have seen the 
like in other ships at sea, and in sundry ships at once. By 
this, men may see how the Papists are givcn to believe and 
worship such vain things and toys as God; to whom ail 
honour doth appertain : and in their need and necessities do 
let [cease] to call upon the living GOD, who is the giver of 
ail good things. 
The 6th of April in anno 556, we arrived at the port of 
San Juan de Ulua in New Spain, very naked and distressed 
of apparel and ail other things, by means of the loss of our 



R. Tomnon.'] NOBLE GENEROSITY OF A SPANIARD. 19 
•  587.J 

foresaid ship and goods; and from thence we went to the 
new town called Vera Cruz, rive leagues from the said port 
of an Juan de Ulua, marching still by the sea shore : where 
we found lying upon the sands a great quantity of mighty 
great trees, with roots and all, some of them four, rive, or six 
cart load, by estimation ; which, as the people told us, were, in 
the great stormy weather which we [en]dured at sea, rooted 
out of the ground in Terra Florida right against that place 
(which is 300 leagues over the sea), and brought thither. 
So that we came to the said town of Vera Cruz ; where we 
remained a month. There the said JOHN FIELDchanced to 
meet an old friend of his acquaintance in pain, called 
GONZALO RvIZ )E COR)OVA, a very rich man of the said 
town of Vera Cruz; who (hearing of his coming thither, 
with his wife and family ; and of his misfortune by sea) came 
unto him, and received him and all his household into his 
house, and kept us there a whole month, making us very 
good cheer ; and giving us good entertainment, and also gave 
us, that were in all eight persons, of the said J. FIELD'S 
house, double apparel, new out of the shop, of very good 
cloth, coats, cloaks, shirts, smocks, gowns for the women, 
hose, shoes, and all other necessary apparel; and for our 
way up to the city of Mexico, horses, moyles [mule], and 
men ; and money in our purses for the expenses by the way, 
which by out account might amount unto the sum of 400 
crowns [.----£12o then -- about £I,OOO now]. 
After we were entered two days' journey into the country, 
I, the said ROBERT TOMSON, fell sick of an ague : so that the 
next day I was hot able to sit on my horse ; but was fain to 
be carried upon Indians' backs from thence to Mexico. 
And when we came within half a day's journey of the city 
of Mexico, the said JOHN FIELD also fell sick; and within 
three days after we arrived at the said city, he died. And 
presently sickened one of his children, and two more of his 
household people; who within eight days died. So that 
within ten days after we arrived at the cityof Mexico, 
of eight persons that were of us of the said company, there 
remained but four of us alive: and I, the said TOMSON, at 
the point of death, of the sickness that I got on the way, 
which continued with me for the space of six months [till 
October I556]. At the end of which time, it pleased GOD 



20 THE CITY or 1V[EXICO IN 556. [R. To,,.: ,s87. 

to restore me my health again, though weak and greatly 
disabled. 

Mexico was a city, in my rime, of not above 1,5oo house- 
holds of Spaniards inhabiting there ; but of Indian people in 
the suburbs of the said city, there dvelt about 3oo,ooo as it was 
thought, and many more. This city of Mexico is sixty-five 
leagues from the North Sea [the Gulf of Mexico] and seventy- 
rive leagues from the South Sea [the Pacific Ocean] ; so that it 
standeth in the midst of the main land, betwixt the one sea 
and the other. 
It is situated in the midst of a lake of standing water, and 
surrounded round about with the saine ; save, in many places, 
going out of the city, are many broad ways through the said 
lake or water. This lake and city are surrounded also with 
great mountains round about, vhich are in compass above 
thirty leagues; and the said city and lake of standing water 
doth stand in a great plain in the midst of it. This lake of 
standing water doth proceed from the shedding of the tain, 
that falleth upon the said mountains; and so gathers itself 
together in this place. 
AI1 the whole proportion of this city doth stand in a very 
plain ground; and in the midst of the said city is a square 
Place, of a good bov shot over from side to side. In the 
midst of the said Place is a high Church, very fair and well 
built all through, but at that rime not half finished. 
Round about the said Place, are many fair houses built. 
On the one side are the houses vhere ]IONTEZUMA, the 
great King of Mexico that was, dwelt; and now there lie 
always the Viceroys that the King of Spain sendeth thither 
every three years: and in my rime there was for Viceroy a 
gentleman of Castille, called Don LtllS I)E VELASCO. 
And on the other side of the said Place, over against the 
saine, is the I3ishop's house, very fairly built ; and many other 
bouses of goodly building. And hard by the same are also 
other very fair bouses, built by the Marquis I)E LA MALLE, 
otherwise called HERNANDO CORTES; who was he that first 
conquered the said city and country. After the said con- 
quest (which he ruade with great labour and travail of his 
person, and danger of his lire), being grown great in the 
country; the King of Spain sent for him, saying that he had 



R'T°ms°'"] T tIE GREAT BUILDING IN PROGRESS. 2I 

some particular matters to impart to him: and, when he. 
came home, he could not be suffered to return back again, as 
the King before had promised him. With the sorrow for 
which, he died : and this he had for the revard of his good 
service. 
The said city of Mexico hath streets made very broad and 
right [straight] that a man being in the highway at one end 
of the street, may see at the least a good mile forward : and 
in ail the one part of the streets of the north part of their 
city, there runneth a pretty lake of very clear water, that 
every man may put into his house as much as he will, with- 
out the cost of anything but of the letting in. 
Also there is a great ditch of water that cometh through 
the city, even into the high Place; where come, every morn- 
ing, at break of the day, twenty or thirty canoes or troughs 
of the Indians ; which bring in them ail manner of provisions 
for the city that is made and groweth in the country : which 
is a very good commodity for the inhabitants of that place. 
And as for victuals in the said city, beef, mutton, hens, capons, 
quails, guinea cocks, and such like, are ail very good cheap; 
as the whole quarter of an ox, as much as a slave can carry 
away from the butcher's, for rive tomynes, that is, rive rials 
of plate [i.e., of silver. Ste Vol. III. p. I84] , which is just 
2s. 6d.[='I 5s. od. now] ; and fat sheep at the butcher's, for 
three riais, which is IS. 6d. [= I2S. 6d. now], and no more. 
Bread is as good cheap as in Spain; and all other kinds 
of fruits, as apples, pears, pomegranates, and quinces, at a 
reasonable rate. 
The city goeth wonderfully forward in building of Friaries 
and Nunneries, and Chapels ; and is like, in time to corne, to 
be the most populous city in the world, as it may be sup- 
posed. 
The weather is there always very temperate. The day dif- 
fereth but one hour of length ail the year long. The fields and 
wooàs are always green. The wooàs are full of popinjays, 
and many other kind of birds, that make such a harmony of 
singing and crying, that any man will rejoice to hear it. In 
the fields are such odoriferous smells of flowers and herbs, 
that it giveth great content to the senses. 
In my time, were dwelling and alive in Mexico, many 
ancient men that were of the Conquerors, at the first con- 



[-R. Tomson. 
22 TO.tsoN SERVES GONZALO SEREZO'L t ,»87. 

quest with HERNANDO CORTES: for, then, it was about 
thirty-six years ago, that the said country was conquered. 
Being something strong, I procured to seek means to live, 
and to seek a way how to profit myself in the country seeing 
it had pleased GOD to send us thither in safety. 
Then, by the friendship of one THOMAS I3LAKE, a Scottish- 
man born, who had dwelt, and had been married in the said 
city above twenty years before I came to the said city Il.e., 
before 1536], I was preferred to the service of a gentleman, a 
Spaniard dwelling there, a man of great wealth, and of one of 
the first conquerors of the said city, whose namewas GONZALO 
SEREZO : with whom I dwelt twelve months and a half Il.e., 
up to November I557] ; at the end of which, I was maliciously 
accused by the Holy House for matters of religion. 
And because it shall be known ',vherefore it was, that I 
was so punished by the clergy's hand ; I will in brief words, 
declare the same. 
It is so, that, being in Mexico, at table, among many 
principal people at dinner, they began to inquire of me, being 
an Englishman, " Whether it were true that in England, 
they had overthrown all their Churches and Houses of Re- 
ligion ; and that all the images of the saints of heaven that 
were in them, were thrown down and broken, and burned, 
and [that they] in some places stoned highways with them ; 
and [that they] denied their obedience to the Pope of Rome : 
as they had been certified out of Spain by their friends ? " 
To whom, I ruade answer, "That it ,,vas so. That, in 
deed, they had in England, put down all the religious houses 
of friars and monks that were in England; and the images 
that were in their churches and other places were taken 
away, and used there no more. For that, as they say, the 
making of them, and the putting of them where they were 
adored, was clean contrary to the express commandment of 
Almighty GOD, Thou shalt hot make to thysclf any graven 
image &c. : and that, for that cause, they thought it not 
lawful that they should stand in the church, which is, the 
House of Adoration." 
One that was at the declaring of these words, who ',vas my 
toaster, GONZALO SEREZO, answered and said, " If it were 
against the commandment of GOD, to have images in the 



R. Tomson.- TABLE TALK IN MEXICO IN Nov. 557- 3 

churches ; that then he had spent a great deal of r money in 
vain; for that, two years past Il.e., in x555] he had made in 
the Monastery of Santo Domingo in the said city of Mexico, 
an image of Our Lady, of pure silver and gold, with pearls 
and precious stones, which cost him 7,000 and odd pesos " 
(and every peso is 6s. 8d. of our money) [=about 2,4oo, or 
about 24,ooo now] : which indeed was true, for I have seen 
it many times myself where it stands. 
At the table was another gentleman, who, presuming to 
defend the cause more than any one that was there, said, 
" That they knew well enough, that they were made but of 
stocks and stones, and that to them was no vorship liven ; 
but that there was a certain veneration due unto them after 
they were set up in church : and that they vere set there with 
a good intent. The one, for that they were Books for the 
Simple People, to make them understand the glory of the 
saints that vere in heaven, and a shape of them ; to put us 
in remembrance to call upon them to be our intercessors unto 
GOD for us : for that we are such miserable sinners that we 
are not worthy to appear before GOD; and that using devo- 
tion to saints in heaven, they may obtain at GOD's hands, 
the sooner, the thing that we demand of Him. As, for 
example," he said, " imagine that a subject hath offended his 
King upon the earth in any kind of respect; is it for the 
party to go boldly to the King in person, and to demand 
pardon for his offences ? No," saith he, "the presumption 
were too great ; and possibly he might be repulsed, and have 
a great rebuke for his labour. Better it is for such a person- 
to seek some private man near the King in his Court, and to 
make him acquainted with this matter, and let him be a' 
mediator to His Majesty for him and for the matter he had to 
do with him; and so might he the better come to his purpose, 
and obtain the thing which he doth demand. Even so," 
saith he, "it is with GOD and His saints in heaven. For 
we are wretched sinners; and hot worthy to appear or 
present ourselves before the Majesty of GOD, to demand of 
Him the thing that we have need of: therefore thou hast 
need to be devout ! and have devotion to the mother of God, 
and the saints in heaven, to be intercessors to GOD for thee ! 
and so mayest thou the better obtain of GOD, the thing that 
thou dost demand ! " 



[-R. Tonon. 
4 THE DANGEROU$ TALK I$ STOPPED. k . »8. 

, To this I answered, "Sir, as touching the comparison you 
madeof the intereessors to the King, how neeessary they were, 
I would but ask of you this question. Set the case, that this 
King you speak of, if he be so mereiful as when he knoweth 
that one or any of his subjects hath offended him ; he send 
for him to his own town, or to his own house or place, and 
say unto him, ' Corne hither ! I know that thou hast offended 
many laws ! if thou dost know thereof, and dost repent thee 
of the same, with full intent to offend no more, I will forgive 
thee thy trespass, and remember it no more ! '" Said I, " If 
this be donc by the King's own person, what then hath this 
man need go and seek friendship at any of the King's private 
servants' hands ; but go to the principal : seeing that he is 
readier to forgive thee, than thou art to demand forgiveness 
at his hands !" • 
" Even sois it, with our graeious GOD, who ealleth and 
erieth out unto us throughout ail the world, by the mouth of 
His prophets and apostles ; and, by His own mouth, saith, 
'Corne unto me ail ye that labour and are over laden, and I 
will refresh you!' besides a thousand other offers and 
proffers, vhich He doth make unto us in His Holy Scriptures. 
What then have we need of the saints' help that are in 
heaven, whereas the LORD Himself doth so freely offer 
Himself for us ? " 
At which sayings, many of the hearers were astonied, and 
said that, " By that reason, I would give to understand 
that the Invocation of Saints was tobe disannulled, and by 
the laws of GOD not eommanded." 
I answered, "That they were not my words, but the words 
of GOD Himself. Look into the Seriptures yourself, and you 
shall so final it ! '" 
The talk was pereeived tobe prejudicial to the Romish 
doctrine; and therefore it was eommanded to be no more 
entreated of. And all remainedunthought upon, had it not 
been for a villainous Portuguese that was in the eompany, 
who said, Basta ser Ingles a6ara saber todo esto y mas, who, the 
next day, without imparting anything to anybody, went to the 
Bishop of bIEXlCO and his Provisor, and said, that " In a 
place where he had been the day before was an Englishman, 
who had said that there was no need of Saints in lire Church, nor 
of aoE Invocationof Saints. Upon whose denomination [de- 



It'T°m°ta"lT'o MSON IN PRISON SEVEN MONTHS. 2 5 
t x587.J 

nouncement], I was apprehended for the same words here re- 
hearsed, and none other thing; and thereupon was used as 
hereafter is written. 
So, apprehended, I was carried to prison, where I lay a 
close prisoner seven months [tillffuly I558], without speaking 
to any creature, but to the gaoler that kept the said prison, 
when he brought me my meat and drink. In the meantime, 
was brought into the said prison, one AUGUSTnE BoACO, an 
Italian of Genoa, also for matters of religion ; who was taken 
at Zacatecas, eighty leagues to the north-westward of the city 
of Mexico. 
At the end of the said seven months Il.e., in Yuly I558], xve 
were both carried to the high Church of Mexico, to do an 
open penance upon a high scaffold ruade before the high altar, 
upon a Sunday, in the presence of a very great number of 
people ; who were, at least, 5,ooo or 6,000. For there were 
some that came one hundred toiles off to see the said auto, 
as they call it ; for that there was never any before, that had 
done the like in the said country: nor could tell what 
Lutherans were, nor what it meant ; for they never heard of 
any such thing before. 
We were brought into the Church,every one with a san benito 
upon his back ; which is, half a yard of yellow cloth, with a 
hole to put in a man's head in the midst, and cast over a 
man's head : both flaps hang, one before, and another behind ; 
and in the midst of every flap a Saint Andrew's cross, made 
of red cloth, and sewed in upon the same. And that is called 
San Benito. 
The common people, before they saw the penitents corne 
into the Church, were given to understand that we were 
heretics, infidels, and people that did despise GOD and His 
works, and that we had been more like devils than men ; and 
thought we had had the favour [abpearance] of some monsters 
or heathen people: and when they saw us corne into the 
Church in our players' coats, the women and children began 
to cry out and made such a noise, that it was strange to 
hear and see ; saying, that " They never saw goodlier men 
in all their lives; and that it was not possible that there 
could be in us so much evil as was reported of us; and 
that we were more like angels among men, than such 
persons of such evil religion as by the priests and friars, we 



6 To,tsoN SENTENCED IN MEXlCO, IS IN PRISON [R. rT°m»°',»S» 

were reported to be ; and that it was a great pity that we 
should be so used for so small an offence." 
So that we were brought into the said high Church, and set 
upon the scaffold which was ruade before the high altar, in 
the presence ot all the people, until High Mass was donc; and 
the Sermon made by a friar concerning our matter: put- 
ting us in all the disgrace they could, to cause the people not 
to take so much compassion upon us, for that "we were 
heretics, and people seduced of the Devil, and had forsaken 
the faith of the Catholic Church of Rome" ; with divers other 
reproachful words, which were too long to recite in this place. 
High Mass and Sermon being done ; our offences (as they 
called them)were recited, each man what he had said and 
done : and presently was the sentence pronounced against us, 
that was that-- 
The said AUGUSTINE BOA{2IO wa condemned to wear 
his San Benito ail the days of his life, and put into per- 
petual prison, where he should fulfil the same ; and ail 
his goods confiscated and lost. 
And I, the said TOMSOl% to wear the San Benito for 
three years; and then to be set at liberty. 
And for the accomplishing of this sentence or condem- 
nation, we must be presently sent down from Mexico to 
Vera Cruz, and from thence to San Juan de Ulua, which 
was sixty-five leagues by land; and there to be shipped 
for Spain, with straight commandment that, upon pain 
of I,OOO ducats, every one of the Masters should look 
straightly unto us, and carry us to Spain, and deliver us 
unto the Inquisitors of the Holy House of Seville; that 
they should put us in the places, where we should fulfil 
out penances that the Archbishop of MEXCO had en- 
joined unto us, by his sentence there given. 
For the performance of the which, we were sent down 
from Mexico to the seaside, with fetters tapon out feet ; and 
there delivered to the Masters of the ships to be carried for 
Spain, as is before said. 
And it was so, that the Italian fearing that if he presented 
himself in Spain belote the Inquisitors, that they vould have 
burnt him; to prevent that danger, when we were coming 
homeward, and vere arrived at the island of Terceira, one of 
the isles of Azores, the first n.ight that we came to an anchor 



R. Tomson.- I 
t zs87.J IN SE¥ILLE; THEN MARRIES WELL. 2 7 

in the said port [i.e., of Angra], about midnight, he found 
the means to get him naked out of the ship into the sea, and 
swam naked ashore; and so presently BOt him to the further 
side of the island, where he round a little caravel ready to 
depart for Portugal. In the which he came to Lisbon ; and 
passed into France, and so into England; where he ended his 
lire in the city of London. 
And I, for my part, kept still aboard the ship, and came 
into Spain ; and was delivered to the Inquisitors of the Holy 
House of Seville, where they kept me in close prison till I 
had fulfilled the three years of my penance, [i.e., till about 
I56I]. 
Vhich rime being expired, I was freely put out of prison, 
and set at liberty. 
Being in the city of Seville, a cashier of one HtrGH TVPrON, 
an English merchant of great doing, by the space of one year 
Il.e., till about I562 ] ; it fortuned that there came out of the 
city of Mexico, a Spaniard, JuAr DE r.A BARRERA, that had 
been long rime in the Indies, and had Bot great sums of gold 
and silver. He, with one only daughter, shipped himself for 
to come to Spain ; and, by the way, chanced to die, and gave 
ail that he had unto his only daughter, whose name was 
BIARIA DE LA BARRERA. 
She having arrived at the city of Seville, it was my chance 
to marry with her. The marriage was worth to me '2,5oo 
[=£25,000 now] in bars of gold and silver, besides jewels of 
great price. This I thought good to speak of, to shov the 
goodness of GOD to ail them that trust in Him ; that I, being 
brought out of the Indies in such great misery and infamy 
to the world, should be provided at GOD's hand, in one mo- 
ment, of more than in ail my life before, I could attain unto 
by my own labour. 
After ve departed from Mexico, our San Benitos were set 
up in the high Church of the said city, with our names written 
in the same, according to their use and custçm ; which is and 
will be a monument and a remembrance of us, as lo.ng as the 
RomishChurch doth reign in that country. The same have 
been seen since, by one JoHl CHILTON ; and divers others of 
our nation, which vere left in that country, long since Il.e., 
D» October 1568] by Sir Jolal HAWKINS. 



Lyrics, Elegies, c. from 
Cnzonets, c. 

Maclrizals, 

We purpose giving in the present Volume, all the printed Songs to 
,vhich music was set by JorlN DOWLAND, the Lutenist ; of whom, 
probably, ]3ARNFIELD wrote the following lines, which first appeared in 
the surreptitious Collection Hw 19asHonate Pilgrim in 1599 ; but which 
are usually included in SHAKESPEARE'$ II'ol'A'$: 

If Music and sweet Poetry agree ; 
As they must needs, the sister and the brother : 
Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me ! 
13ecause thou lov'st the one ; and I, the other. 
DOWLAND to thee, is dear ; whose heavenly touch 
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense : 
SPÈNSÈR, to me ; whose deep conceit is such 
As, passing all conceit, needs no defence. 
Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound 
That PHOEBUS'S Lute, the Queen of Music, makes : 
And I, in deep delight, am chiefly drowned 
When as himself to singing be betakes. 
One god is god of both, as Poets feign : 
One knight loves both, and both in thee remain ! 

The other poems set to music by DOWLAND, will be round at/. 519- 
534, 6o9-622, 644-656- 

j o la  D o w L A N D, Bachelor of Music. 

THE FIFT BOOK OF ONq OR IR. 

I597. 



29 

To THE RIGHT HONOURABL. 

SR GEORGE CAREY, 
OF THE NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, KNIGHT, 
BARON OF HUNSDON, CAPTAIN OF HER I[AJESTY"S 
Gentlemen Pensioners, Govemor of the Isle of Wight, 
Lieutenant of the County of Southampton, Lord 
Chamberlain of Her Majesty's most royal 
House; and of Her Highness's most 
honourable Privy Council. 

r[AT harmony, Right 

Honourable ! which is 
skilfully expressed by instruments : albeit, by 
reaso, of the variety of number and lbrolbor- 
tion of itself, if easily stirs 
hearers to admiratio, and delight ; .yet for 
higher authority and pofver, bath been ever 
worthily attributed fo that kind of nusic which 
fo the sweetness of [the] instrument albblies the lively voice of man, 
exlbressing some worthy sentence, or excellent poem. Hence, as 
antiquity tan witness, first grew the heavenly Art of Music : for 
LINUS, ORPttEUS, and the test, according fo the number and 
lime of their Poems, first framed the numbers and rimes of Music. 
So that PLATO defines Melody to consist of I-Iarmony, Numbcr, 



l-J- Dowland. 
3 ° DEDICATION TO LORD HUNSDON. t. x597. 
anal ords : Hizr»iony, naked of itsdf ; Words, the ornament of 
1-Iarinony ; 2Vumber, the com»lon friend and uniter of them both. 
This small book containing the consent of siheaking harmony, 
joined with the most musical instrlelnent, the Lute, being my first 
labozïr, I bave lbresumed to dedicate fo your Lordshiih : who, for 
yo_tr virtue and nobility, are best able o lrotect if; and for your 
honourable favours towards me, best deserz, ing my duty and service. 
t3esides, your noble inclination and love to all good arts, and 
tamely [particularly] the divine science of Music, doth challenge 
tt.ee Patronage of all Learning ; than which no greater title can be 
added to Nobility. 
Neither in these your honours, may I let lass the dutifd re- 
nembrance of your virtuous Lady, »ty honourable mistress, whose 
"singldar graces towards me have added slirit to my unfortunate 
labours. 
What rime and diligence I bave bestowed in the Search of Mmic, 
wha travels in foreign countries, what success and estimation, even 
ambng str'angers, I bave round, I leave fo the report of oazers. 
Yet all .this in vain, were if hot that your honourable hands have 
vouchsafed fo ]wld my #oor forunes : which I now wholly recoin- 
mend fo your gracious protection, with these my first endeavours, 
hulnbly beseechin you fo accclt and cherish the saine with your 
continued favours. 
Your Lordshil;s most humble servan.t, 
OHN DOIVLAND. 



31 

To the Courtcous Reader. 

Ow hard an enterprise it is, in this skilful and 
curious Age, to commit our private labours to the 
public view, mine own disability and others' hard 
success do too xvell assure me: and were it not 
for that love [which] I bear to the true lovers of music, 
I had concealed these my first fruits; which how they will 
thrive with your taste I know not, howsoever the greater 
part of them might have been ripe enough by their age. The 
Courtly judgement, I hope will not be severe against them, 
being itself a party ; and those sweet Springs of Humanity, I 
mean our two famous Universities, will entertain them for 
his sake whom they bave already graced, and, as it were, en- 
franchised in the ingenuous profession of Music: which, from 
my childhood I have ever aimed at, sundry times leaving my 
native country, the better to attain so excellent a science. 
About sixteen years past [i.e., in I58O], I travelled the 
chiefest parts of France, a nation furnished with great variety 
of Music ; but lately, being of a more confirmed judgement, I 
bent my course towards the famous provinces of Germany, 
where I found both excellent Masters, and most honourable 
patrons of music, namely, those two miracles of this Age for 
virtue and magnificence, HENRY JULIO, Duke of Brunswick, 
and the learned MAURICE, Landgrave of Hesse; of whose 
princely virtues and favours towards me, I can never speak 
sufficiently. Neither can I forger the kindness of ALEXANDRO 
HOROLOGIO, a right learned toaster of music, servant to the 



[-j. Dowland 
3 To THE COURTEOUS READER, L ,sz 

royal Prince, the Landgrave of Hesse, and GRE6ORIO HOWET, 
Lutenist to the magnificent Duke of Brunswick; both [of] 
whom I naine, as well for their love to me as also for their 
ex.cellency in their faculties. 
Thus having spent some months in Germany, to my great 
admiration of that worthy country; I passed over the Alps 
into Italy, where I round the Cities furnished with ail good 
arts, but especially music. What favour and estimation I 
had in Venice, Padua, Genoa, Ferrara, Florence, and divers 
other places, I willingly suppress ; lest I should, [in] any way, 
seem partial in mine own endeavours. Yet I cannot dis- 
semble the great content I round in the proffered amity of 
the most famous LUCA MARENZIO, whose sundry letters I 
received from Rome; and one of them, because it is but 
short, I bave thought good to set down, not thinking it any 
disgrace to be proud of the judgement of so excellent a man. 
Mollo magnifico Signior nio osservandissimo. 
Per una lettera del Signior ALBERIGO IALVEZI ho inteso 
quanto con cortese affeto si mostri desideroso di essermi congionto 
d'amicitia, dove infinitamente la ringratio di questo suo buon' animo, 
offerendomegli all'incontro se in alcuna cosa la posso servire, 
che gli meriti dalle s, infinite virtù, e qualità meritano che ogni 
uno e me l'ammirino e osservino, e per fite di questo le bascio le 
mani. Di Roma,. a' 13. di Luglio. 1 5 9 5 • 
D.V.S. A ffettionatissimo servitore, 
L UCA MA RENZIO. 

Not to stand too long upon my travels: I will only naine 
that worthy Master, GIOVANNI CROCHIO, Vice-toaster of the 
Chapel of Saint Mark's in Venice; with whom I had familiar 
conference. 
And thus vhat experience I could gather abroad; I ara 
now ready to practice at home, if I may but find encourage- 
ment in my first assays. 



J. Dowland.] To THE COURTEOUS READER. 33 
x597- 

There have been divers Lute Lessons of mine lately 
printed without my knowledge, false and imperfect: but I 
purpose shortly myself to set forth the choicest of ail my 
Lessons in print, and also an Introduction for Fingering ; with 
other Books of Soçs, whereof this is the first. And as this 
finds favour with you, so shall I be affected to labour in the 
test. Farewell ! 
JOHN DOWLAND. 

THoM CAMPIANI, 

De instituto authoris. 

Famam, ostcritas quam dedit ORPHEO. 
Dolandi radius MuslcA dat sibi, 
Fugaces rcprimens archct.),pis sonos ; 
Quas et dditias prcebuit auribus, 
.psis conspicuas luminibus facit. 



34 

Lyrics, Elegies, OEc. from 
Canzonets, g.ff c. 

THE 

j oli N DOWLAND. 
tva - Boo or" Soci 

And 
And 

NQUIET thoughts ! your civil slaughter stint ! 
And vrap your wrongs within a pensive 
heart ! 
you, my tongue! that makes my 
mouth a mint, 
stamps my thoughts, to coin them 
words by art, 
Be still ! For if 3"ou ever do the like, 
I'll cut the string, that makes the hammer strike! 

But what can stay my thoughts, they may hot start ? 
Or put my tongue in durance for to die ? 
When as these eyes, the keys of mouth and heart 
Open the lock, where ail my love doth lie. 
I'll seal tbem up within their lids for ever! 
So thoughts and words and looks shall die together. 

How shall I then gaze on my mistress' eyes ? 
My thoughts must have some vent, else heart xvill break. 
My tongue xvould rust, as in my mouth it lies; 
If eyes and thoughts were free, and that not speak. 
8peak then ! and tell the passions of Desire ! 
Which turns mine eyes to floods, my thoughts to tire. 



Ed'b'J'D°wa'd'-I, S92..a IViADRIGALS, CANZONV_. 'S, &C. ,35 

"]HOEVER thinks, or hopes of love for love ? 
îiVk, V]lOr who beloved, in CUP,D'S laws doth glory ? 
Who joys in voxvs, or vows hot to remove : 
Who, by this light god, hath hot been ruade sorry? 
Let him see me ! eclipsèd from my sun ; 
\Vith dark clouds of an earth, quite overrun. 

Who thinks that sorrows felt, desires hidden, 
Or humble faith in constant honour armed, 
Can keep love from the fruit that is forbidden ? 
Who thinks that change is by entreaty charmed ? 
Looking on me ; let him know Love's delights 
Are treasures hid in caves, but kept by sprites ! 

Y Thoughts are winged xvith Hopes, my Hopes with 
Love. 
M'ount Love unto the moon in clearest night ! 
And say, " As she doth in the heavens move, 
In earth so wanes and waxeth my delight." 
And whisper this, but softly, in her ears ! 
" Hope oft doth hang the head, and Trust shed tears." 
And you, my Thoughts, that some mistrust do carry ! 
If for mistrust, my mistress do you blame, 
Say, " Though you alter, yet you do hot vary 
As she doth change ; and yet remain the saine : 
Distrust doth enter hearts, but not infect; 
And love is sweetest, seasoned with suspect." 

If she for this, with clouds do mask her eyes, 
And make the heavens dark with her disdain ; 
\¥ith windy sighs disperse them in the skies ! 
Or with thy tears dissolve them into rain ! 
Thoughts, Hopes, and Love return to me no more, 
Till CYNTHIA shine, as she hath done before ! 



36 IVRICS, ELEGIES, &C FROM [Ed. byJ. Dowland. 
• x597. 

,/__ F MY complaints could passions move, 
Or make LOVE see wherein I surfer wrong; 
My passions were enough to prove 
That my despairs had governed me too long. 
O LOVE, I lire and die in thee ! 
Thy vounds do freshly bleed in me ! 

Fhy grief in my deep sighs still speaks, 
Yet thou dost hope when I despair! 
My heart for thy unkindness breaks ! 
Thou say'st, " Thou can'st my harms repair." 
And when I hope: thou mak'st me hope in vain 
Yet for redress, thou let'st me still complain ! 

Can LOVE be rich, and yet I want ? 
Is LOVE my judge, and yet ara I condemned ? 
Thou plenty hast, yet me dost scant ! 
Thou ruade a god, and yet thy power contemned! 
That I do live, it is thy power ! 
That I desire, it is thy worth ! 

If love doth make men's lives too sour, 
Let me not love, nor live henceforth ! 
Die shall my hopes, but not my faith, 
That you, that of my fall may hearers be, 
May hear Despair, which truly saith, 
" I was more true to LovE, than LOVE to me." 

AN she excuse my wrongs with virtue's cloak ? 
Shall I call ber good, vhen she proves unkind ? 
Are those clear rires, which vanish into smoke ? 
Must I praise the leaves, where no fruit I find ? 

No ! No ! Where shadovs do for bodies stand, 
Thou may'st be abused, if thy sight be dira. 
Cold love is like to words written on sand ; 
Or to bubbles, which on the vater swim. 



Ed.byJ. Do,ad.-] ADRIGALS, CANZONETS 95C. 37 
z597-_1 » 

Wilt thou be abusèd still, 
Seeing that she will right thee never ? 
If thou can'st not o'ercome her will, 
Thy love will be thus fruitless ever ! 

Was I so base, that I m!ght not aspire, 
Unto those high joys, which she holds from me ? 
As they are high, so high is my desire, 
If she this deny, what can granted be ? 

If she will yield to that which reason is, 
It is Reason's will, that Love should be just. 
Dear ! make me happy still, by granting this, 
Or cut off delays, if that die I must! 

Better a thousand times to die, 
Than for to live thus still tormented : 
Dear! but remember it was I, 
Who, for thy sake, did die contented 

IOw, 0 now, I needs must part, 
,X]]iParting , though I absent mourn ; 
i]Absence------ -- -- can no joy impart, 
Joy once fled, cannot return. 
XVhile I live, I needs must love, 
Love lives not, when hope is gone. 
Now af last despair doth prove 
Love divided, loveth none. 
Sad despair doth drive me hence, 
This despair, unkindness sends; 
If that parting be offence, 
It is she which then offends. 

Dear ! when I from thee ara gone, 
Gone are ali my joys at once. 
I loved thee, and thee alone ! 
In whose love I joyèd once : 



38 Lx'lCS, ELEGIES, &C FROM 
• x597. 
And although your sight I leave, 
Sight wherein my joys do lie; 
Till that death do sense bereave, 
Never shall affection die [ 
Sad despair doth drive me hence, 
Dear! if I do hot return, 
Love and I shall die together. 
For my absence never mourn ! 
Vhom you might have joyèd ever. 
Part we must, though nov I die, 
Die I do, to part vith you : 
Him despair doth cause to lie 
,Vho both lived and dieth truc. 
Sad despair doth drive me hence, dc. 
EAR, if )'OU change ! l'll never choose again. 
Sweet, if you shrin,k, ] l'Il never think of love• 
Fait, if you rail ! I Il judge ail beauty vain. 
Wise, if too weak ! more vits l'Il never prove. 
Dear ! sweet ! fait ! wise ! change, shrink, nor 
be hot weak ; 
And, on my faith ! my faith shall never break. 
Earth xvith her flowers shall sooner heaven adorn ; 
Heaven her bright stars, through earth's dim globe shall more. 
Fire, heat shall lose ; and frosts, of flames be born ; 
Air ruade to shine, as black as hell shall prove : 
ISarth, heaven, tire, air, the v¢orld transformed 
shall view, 
Ere I prove false to faith, or strange to you ! 

[*.RST forth my tears ! Assist my forxvard grief! 
I, ','ll -d sho,v ,vhat pai, imerios love prooes : 
*l,ind tender lambs, lament love's scant relief, 
And pine, since pensive care my freedom yokes. 
O pine to sec me pine, my tender flocks ! 



Ed'b'J'D°"land'-I 1V[ADRIGALS, C.A. NZONETS 'C. 39 
597-/  

Sad pining Care, that never may have peace, 
At Beauty's gate, in hope of pity knocks ; 
And Mercy sleeps while deep disdains increase; 
And Beauty, hope in her fair bosom yokes, 
O grieve to hear my grief, my tender ttocks ! 
Like to the winds, my sighs have wingèd been, 
Yet are my sighs and suits repaid with mocks ; 
I plead, yet she repineth at my teen. 
O ruthless rigour ! harder than the rocks ! 
That both the shepherd kills, and his poor flocks. 
I- CRYSTAL tears! like to the mol'ning showers, 
I . 
'] And sweetly ,veep lnto thy lady's breast ! 
ll.-nd as the dews revive the drooping flowers, 
So let your drops of pity be addresst ! 
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert, 
\Vhich sleeps too sound; whilst I from her 
depart. 
Haste hapless sighs ! and let your burning breath 
Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart ! 
\Vhose frozen rigour, like forgetful Death, 
Feels never any touch of my desert. 
Yet sighs and tears to her, I sacrifice : 
oth, from a spotless heart, and patient eyes. 

HINK'ST thou, then, by feigning 
Sleep, with a grand disdaining ; 
Or. with thy crafty closing, 
Thy cruel eyes reposing ; 
To drive me from thy sight ! 
\Vhen sleep yields more delight, 
Such harmless beauty gracing : 
And while sleep feignèd is 
May not I steal a kiss 
Thy quiet arms embracin ? 



40 L Y R I C S, E L E G I E S,  C. F R 0 M [Ed. by 3. Dowlana.,»9» 

O that thy sleep dissembled, 
\Vere to a trance resembled! 
Thy cruel eyes deceiving, 
Of lively sense bereaving : 
Then should my love requite 
Thy love's unkind despite, 
\Vhile fury triumphed boldly 
In beauty's sveet disgrace; 
And lived in deep embrace 
Of her that loved so coldly, 

Should then my love aspirine', 
Forbidden joys desiring, 
So far exceed the duty 
That Virtue owes to Beauty ? 
No! Love seek not thy bliss 
Beyond a simple kiss! 
For such deceits are harmless 
Yet kiss a thousand fold; 
For kisses may be bold 
Vhen lovely sleep is armless. 

OME away ! corne, sveet love ! 
l'l'he golden morning breaks ; 
IAI1 the earth, all the air, 
Of love and pleasure speaks l 
Teach thine arms then to embrace, 
And sweet rosy lips to kiss, 
And mix our souls in mutual bliss ! 
Eyes were ruade for beauty's grace 
Viewing, ruing, Iove's long pains ; 
Procured by beauty's rude disdain. 



Ed. byJ. Dowland.' IIADRIGALS, CANZONETS, &C. 4 I 
xS97-A 

Corne away ! corne, sweet love ! 
Do not in vain adorn 
Beauty's grace, that should rise 
Like to the naked morn ! 
Lilies on the river's side, 
And fair Cyprian flowers newly blown, 
Desire no beauties but their own: 
Ornament is Nurse of Pride. 
PIeasure measure, love's delight, 
Haste then, sweet love, our wishèd flight ! 

.IEsT awhile, you cruel cares ! 
Be hOt more severe than love ! 
Beauty kills and beauty spares, 
And sweet smiles, sad sighs remove. 
LAORA, fair Queen of my delight ! 
Corne grant me love, in love's despite ! 
And if I ever fail to honour thee, 
Let this heavenly light I see, 
Be as dark as hell to me ! 

If I speak! My words want weigbt. 
Am I mute ! My heart doth break. 
If I sigh ! She fears deceit. 
Sorrow then for me, must speak ! 
Cruel ! unkind ! with favour view 
The wound that first was ruade by you ! 
And if my torments feignèd be, 
Let this heavenly light I see, 
]3e as dark as hell to me ! 

Never hour of pleasing rest, 
Shall revive my dying ghost, 
Till my soul hath repossesst 
The sweet hope, which love hath lost: 



42 LYRICS, ELEGIES, &C. FROM [ -Ed'bvJ'D°td',oT. 

LAURA! redeem the soul that dies 
t3y fury of thy murdering eyes ! 
And f it proves unkind to thee, 
Let this heavenly light I see, 
t3e as dark as hell to me! 

[------=m'LEEP wayward thoughts, and rest 3"ou xvith my Love 
tLet not my Love, be with my love diseased ! 
Fouch hOt proud hands, lest you her anger move ! 
But pine you with my longings long displeased : 
Thus while she sleeps, I sorrow for ber sake, 
So sleeps my Love; and yet my love doth wake. 

But O, the fury of my restless fear ! 
The hidden anguish of my flesh desires ! 
The glories and the beauties that appear 
t3etxveen ber brows, near CUIXD's closèd rires 
Thus while she sleeps, moves sighing for ber sake, 
So sleeps my Love; and yet my love doth wake. 

My love doth rage, and yet my Love doth rest ; 
Fear in my love, and yet my Love secure; 
Peace in my Love, and yet my love opprest ; 
Impatient, yet of perfect temperature. 
Sleep dainty Love, while I sigh for thy sake ! 
So sleeps my Love; and yet my love doth wake. 

LL ye, whom love or fortune hath betrayed 
Ail ye that dream of bliss, but live in grief! 
[.[All ye xvhose hopes are evermore delayed ! 
Ail ye whose sighs or sickness want relief! 
Lend ears and tears to me, most hapless man 
That sings my scrrows like the dying sxvan ! 



E6. byJ. Dowland."] MADRIGALS, Ç'ANZONETS, C. 43 
597._1 " 

Care that consumes the heart with imvard pain, 
Pain that presents sad care in outward view; 
Ioth, tyrant-like, enforce me to complain, 
But still in vain, for none my plaints will rue : 
Tears, sighs, and ceaseless cries alone I spend. 
My woe wants comfort, and my sorrov, end. 

LT thou, Unkind ! thus 'reave me 
Of my heart, and so leave me ? 
Fare,vell ! 
But yet, or ere I part, 0 Cruel 1 
Kiss me Sweet, my Jewel ! 
Farewell ! 

Hope by disdain grows cheerless 
Fear doth love, love doth fear 
13eauty peerless. 
Farewell ! 

If no delays can move thee ! 
Lire shall die, death shall live 
Still to love thee. 
Farewell ! 

Yet be thou mindful ever! 
Heat from tire, tire from heat, 
None can sever. 
Farewell ! 

True love cannot be changèd, 
Though delight from desert 
13e estrangëd. 
Farewell ! 



44 LYRICS, ELEGIES, C. FROM [-Ed. byJ. Dowland.,597. 

OULD my conceit that first inforced my woe, 
Or else mine eyes, which still the same increasç, 
Might be extinct, to end my sorrows so ; 
Which now are such, as nothing can release. 
Whose life is death ; whose sweet, each change of 
sour ; 
And eke whose hell reneweth every hour. 

Each hour, amidst the deep of hell I fry, 
Each hour, I waste and wither where I sit ; 
But that sweet bout, wherein I wish to die, 
My hope, alas, may not enjoy it yet. 
\Vhose hope is such bereaved of the bliss, 
Vv'hich unto all, save me, allotted is. 

To all, save me, is free to live or die ; 
To all, save me, remaineth hap or hope. 
But all, perforce, I must abandon! 
Since Fortune still directs my hap aslope ; 
\Vherefore to neither hap nor hope I trust, 
]3ut to my thrals I yield: for so I must. 

O.tE again ! Sweet love doth now invite 
Thy graces that refrain 
To do me due delight ; 
• To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, 
To die with thee again in sweetest sympathy 

Corne again ! that I may cease to mourn 
Through thy unkind disdain ! 
For now, left and forlorn, 
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die 
In deadly pain, and endless misery. 



Ea'b»'LD°'lna'-I I[ADRIGALS, CANZONETS, C. 45 
x597._1 

All the day, the sun that lends me shine 
13y frowns doth cause me pine, 
And feeds me with delay. 
Her smiles, my springs, that make my joys to grow : 
Her frowns, the winters of my woe. 

All the night, my sleeps are full of dreams, 
My eyes are full of streams ; 
My heart takes no delight 
To see the fruits and joys that some do find, 
And mark the storms are me assigned. 

Out, Mas! my faith is ever true; 
Yet she will never rue, 
Nor yield me any grace. 
Her eyes, of tire; her heart of flînt is made: 
\Vhom tears nor truth may once invade. 

Gentle LOVE drav forth tby wounding dart! 
Thou can'st not pierce her heart ! 
For I (that do approve 
13y sighs and teurs, more hot than are thy shafts) 
Did 'tempt, while she for triumph laughs. 

(On tc BriIis 3[useum Coy, G 9, ere is te follooEving îendl note to 
t/ds Son.¢. These words by ]-ROBERT I)EVEREUX]- the Earl of E$SEX, 
and sung belote Oueen ELIZABETH, in a Masque at Greenwich.) 

Is golden locks, Time bath to silver turned. 
O Time too swift ! O swiftness never ceasing ! 
His Youth, 'gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned, 
But spurned in vain, Youth waneth by increasing. 
Beauty, Strength, Youth are flowers but fading seen ; 
Duty, Falth, Love are roots, and ever green. 



46 LYRICS, ILLEGIES, &C. FROM Ed. byJ. Dowtan.sg. 

His helmet, now, shall make a hive for bees, 
And lover's Sonnets turn to holy Psalms; 
A man-at-arms must, now, serve on his knees, 
And feed on prayers, which are Age's altos: 
But though rioto Court to cottage he depart, 
His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart. 

And when he saddest sits, in homely cell, 
H'li teach his swains this Carol for a Song; 
Blcst be the hearts that wish my Sovereign weIl ! 
Curst be thc soul that thinks her any wrong ! 
Goddess ! Alloxv this aged man his right ! 
To be your I3eadsman now; that vas your Knight. 

\VAKE, sweet love! Thou art returned ! 
IMy heart, which long in absence mourned, 
ILives now in perfect jby. 
Only herself bath seemèd fair ; 
She only could I love. 
She only drave me to despair, 
When she unkind did prove. 

Let love which never, absent, dies ; 
Noxv live for ever in her eyes ! 
Whence came my first annoy : 
Despair did make me xvish to die 
That I my joys might end, 
She only, which did make me fly, 
My state may now amend. 

If she esteem thee nov ought vorth ; 
She will not grieve thy love henceforth ! 
Which so despair hath proved. 
Lespair bath provèd now in me 
That love will hOt unconstant be, 
Though long in vain I loved. 



Ed'by3"D°wland'-] IIADRIGALS, CANZONETS, &C. 47 
z597-J 

If she, at last, reward thy love 
And all thy harms repair ! 
Thy happiness will sweeter prove, 
Raised up from deep despair. 
And if that now thou welcome be, 
When thou with her doth meet ; 
She all this vhile, but played with thee, 
To make thy joys more sweet. 

'OlE, heavy Sleep ! the Image of true Death ! 
'And close up these my weary xveeping eyes! 
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath, 
And tears my heart with sorroxv's sigh-swollen cries. 
Corne, and possess my tired thoughts! worn soul ! 
That living dies, till thou on me bestoule ! 

Come, Shadow of my End ; and Shape of Rest ! 
Allied to Death, Child to this black-fast Night ! 
Corne thou, and charm these rebels in my breast ! 
Whose waking fancies doth my mind affright. 
O corne, sweet Sleep ! Corne, or I die for ever ! 
Corne ere my last sleep cornes, or corne never ! 

XVAY xvith the,se self-loving lads, 
[\Vhotn CUPXD s arrow never glads ! 
[[Away poor souls that sigh and weep, 
In love of them that lie and sleep ! 
For CUPID is a meadow god, 
And forceth none to kiss the rod. 

God CUPID'S shaft, tike Destiny, 
Doth either good or ill decree ; 
Desert is borne out of his bow, 
Reward upon his feet doth go. 
What fools are they, that have not known 
That LOVE likes no laws, but his own I 



48 Lvr:ICS, ELEGIES, œeeC. [Ed.,J.ro,l,nd.,,. 

My songs, they be CYNTHIA'S praise : 
I wear her rings on holidays. 
On every tree, I write ber name, 
And every day I read the saine : 
\Vhere HONOVR, CVPD'S rival is, 
There miracles are seen of his. 

If CYNTHIA crave her ring of me, 
I'II blot her naine out of the tree ! 
If doubt do darken things held dear, 
Then " Well rare nothing ! " once a year : 
For many run, but one must win. 
Fools only, hedge the cuckoo in[ 

The worth that worthiness should more 
Is love ; vhich is the bov of LOVE : 
And love as well the For'ster can, 
As can the mighty Nobleman. 
Sweet saint, 'tis true, you worthy be ! 
Yet, without love, nought worth to me! 



49 

Uhe state of a C]ristian ]ivel set forth, 
»y an allegory of a Ship un««r SaiZ. 

[This X.Vriter was evidently a forerunner of JOHN BUN'AN.] 

Prov. xxxi. I4. Job ix. 26. Isaiah xxiii. I. Rev. viii. 9. 

[Orilinal broadside, inserted in a 
distinct work of the Author, called 
TAc K"iclory of atience. 1636.] 

'Y BODY is the Hull, the Keel my back, my neck 
the Stem ; the Sides are my ribs, the Beams my 
bones, my flesh the Planks ; gristles and ligaments 
are the Pintels and Knee-timbers ; arteries, veins, 
and sinews, the several Seams of the ship ; my 
blood is the Ballast, my heart the Principal Hold, my stomach 
the Cook-room, my liver the Cistern, my bowels the Sink ; 
my lungs the Bellows, my teeth the Chopping-knives ; except 
you divide them, and then they are the 32 Points of the Com- 
pass, both agreeing in number. Concoction is the Cauldron, 
and hunger the Salt or Sauce. My belly is the Lower Deck, 
my "kidneys Close Cabins or receptacles, my thighs are Long 
Galleries for the grace of the ship ; my arms and hands the 
Canhooks, my midriff is a large partition or Bulkhead. With- 
in the circumference of my head is placed the Steeridge Room 
and Chief Cabins, with the Round-house [now called the 
Caabtain's Cabin] vhere the Master lieth : and these for the 
more safety and decency are enclosed in a double fence; the 
one Dura mater, something hard and thick [the skull], the 
other Pia mater, very thin and sort [the hair], which selweth 
instead of hangings. The ears are two doors or Scuttles 
fitly placed for entertainment ; the two eyes are Casements to 
let in light; under them, is my mouth, the Stowage or 
Steward's Room. My lips are Hatehes for receipt of goods, 
my two nostrils se-e as Gratings to let in air. At the one 
end stands my chin, which is the Beakhead. My forehead is 
cm. a,x. iv. 4 



50 TIIE CONSTRUCTION OF THE CIIRISTIAN PINNACE. 

the Upper Deck; all which being trimmed with my fat instead 
of Pitch, and hair instead of Oakum, are coloured with my skin. 
The Fore Deck is humilit¢, the Stern, charity. Active 
obedience, the Sails ; which being hoisted up with the several 
Yards, Halliards, and I3owlines of holy precepts and good 
purposes ; are let down again by fickleness, faintings and in- 
constancy. Reason is my Rudder, experience the Helm, hope 
of salvation my Anchor, passive obedience the Capstan, holy 
revenge the Cat and Fish to haul the Sheet Anchor or last 
hope. Fear of offending is the I3uoy, virtues are the Cables, 
holy desires and sudden ejaculations the Shrouds. The zeal 
ofGOD's glory is my Mainmast, premeditation the Foremast, 
desire of my own salvation the Mizenmast, saving knowledge 
the I3oxvsprit, circumspection a Sounding line. 
My Light is illumination; justice is the Card [Ma,bi; GOD's 
XVord, the Compass ; the meditation of life's brevity, a Four- 
Hour Glass [i.e., the lcngth of a shi['s watch] ; contemplation of 
the creatures, the Cross-staff or Jacob's-staff; the creed, a 
Sea-Grammar ; the lire of CHRIST, my Load-Star. The saint's 
falls are Sea-marks; good examples, Land-marks. Repentance 
pumps out the sink of my sins, a g.ood conscience keeps me 
clean. Imputative rîghteousness s my Flag, having this 
motto, Being cas down, we lberish no ! the Flag-staff is 
sincerity. 
The ship is victualled afresh by reading, hearing, receiving. 
I3ooks are Long-boats, letters are little Skiffs to carry and 
recarry myspiritual merchandise. Perseverance is my Speed, 
and patience my Naine. My Fire is lust, xvhich will not be 
clean extinguished : full feeding and strong drink are the Fuel 
to maintain it ;whose Flame, if it be hot suppressed, is jealousy; 
whose Sparks are evil xvords, whose Ashes are envy; whose 
Smoke is infamy. Lascivious talk is a Flint and Steel, con- " 
cupiscence as Tinder, opportunity the Match to light it, sloth 
and idleness are the Servants to prepare it. 
The LAW OF G 0 D is my Pilot, FA_,ITH my Captain, FORTITUDE 
the Master, CHASXITV the Master s Mate, my VILL the Cox- 
swain, CONSCIENCE the Preacher [or, as we now say, Chalblain], 
APPLICATION OF CHRIST'S DEATH the Surgeon, ORTIFICATION 
theCook, VIVIFICATION the Caulker, SELF-DENIAL an Appren- 
tice of his, TEMPERANCE the Steward, CONTENTATION his 
Mate, TRUTIt the Purser, THANKIULNESS the Purser's Mate, 



,3.] THE CREW AND PASSENGERS OF TIIE SAME. 

REFORMATION the Boatswain, the Four HUMOURS, SANGUINE, 
CHOLER, KC., are the Quarter-masters; CHRISTIAN VIGILANCY 
undertakes to supply the office of the Starboard and Larboard 
Vatches, MEMORY is the Clerk of the Cheque, ASSURANCE 
the Corporal, the Armour INNOCENC',', the Mariners, ANGELS. 
Schismatics are Searchers sent abroad. My UNDERSTAND- 
|NG, as Master Gunner, culls out from those two Budgecasks 
of the Old and New Testaments certain threats and promises 
which are my only Powder and Shot ; and with the assistance 
of the Gunner's Mate, HOLY ANGER AGAINST SIN, chargeth my 
tongue, which, like to a piece of ordnance, shoots them to 
the shame and overthrow of my spiritual Adversaries. 
My noble passengers are JoY IN THE HOLY GHOST and 
PEACE OF CONSCIENCE, xvhose retinue are DIVINE GRACES. 
My ignoble or rather mutinous passengers are WORLDLY 
COGITATIONS and VAIN DELIGHTS xvhich are more than a 
good many ; besides some that are arrant thieves and traitors, 
namely, PruDE, ENVV, PREJUDICE : but all these I will bid 
farexvell to, when I corne to my journey's end; though I 
would, but cannot, before. 
Heaven is my Country, xvhere I ara Registered in the Book 
of Lire, my King isJEHOVAH. My Tribute almsdeeds: they 
xvhich gather it are the poor. Love is my country's Badge, 
my Language is holy conference, my Fellow Companions are 
the saints. 
" I ara poor in performances, yet rich in GOD's acceptation. 
The Foundation of ail my good is GOD's free election. I be- 
came Bound into the Corporation of the Church to serve Him, 
in mybaptism. I was Enrolled at the rime when He first called 
nae. My Freedom is justification. It xvas Purchased with the 
blood of CI-IRIST. My Evidence is the earnest of His spirit. 
My Privileges are His sanctifying graces. My Crown, 
reserved for me on high, is glorification. 
My Maker and Owner is GOD; who built me by His 
Word, which is CI-IRIST ; of earth, which xvas the Material ; 
He freighted it with the essence of my Soul, xvhich is the 
Treasure ; and bath set me to sali in the Sea of this xvorld, 
till I attain to the Port of death : which letteth the terrestial 
part into the Harbour of the grave, and the celestial part into 
the Kingdom of Heaven. In xvhich voyage, conveniency of 
estate [co»oEortable circumstances] is as sea room; good affections 



2 SAILING IN TIIE SEA OF TIIIS VORLD. 

serve as a tide; and prayer as a prosperous gale, a vind to 
help forward. 
But innumerable are the impediments and perils. For 
here I meet vith the profers of unlavful gain and sensual 
delights, as so many SnENS ; the baits of prosperity, as High 
Banks, on the right hand or Weather Shore ; and there with 
evil suggestions and crabbed adversity, as Rocks, on the left. 
hand or Lee Shore, ready to split me. The fear of hell, like 
Quicksands, threatens to swallow me ; original sin like Weeds ' 
clog me, and actual transgressions like so many Barnacles 
bang about me. Yea, every sin I commit springs a new Leak. 
My senses are as so many Storms of Rain, Hail, and Snov to 
sink me. Lewd affections are Roaring Billows and Waves. 
Self-confidence, or to rely upon anything but the Divine 
assistance, is to lose the Bowsprit. Restitution is heaving 
goods overboard to save the ship. Melancholy is want of 
Fresh Water. The scoffs of atheists, and contempt of 
religion in all places is a notable becalming; the levd lives and 
evil examples of them most a contagious air. Idleness furrs 
it, and is a shrewd decay, both of the Hull and Tackling. 

Moreover, sailing along, anà keeping X, Vatch (for they that 
be CIJRlST'S friends, you know! must look for all they meet 
to be their enemies), xve no sooner look up, but presently we 
ken a Man of War, and then xve must be for war too, and 
provide for a skirmish. 
Noxv the Galleon that hath our Pinnace in chase, and alxvays 
xvatcheth for advantages to surprise it, is the Piracy of Hell; 
the Synagogue of S,T,N. Her Freight is temptations and 
persecutions, with ail the engines of mischief. In which the 
DEVlL is Master, MALICE the Master's Mate, CRJELTY the 
Captain, IIvIDEI the Cook, Ft,ATT.RY the Caulker, 
PIOFaNENESS a Quartermaster, RmT the Steward, N.v.I 
CONTENT his Mate, PruDe. the Coxswain, SUPERSTITION the 
Preacher, HI'POCRIS¥ the Boatswain, COVETOUSNESS the 
Purser, LVST the Swabber, FçRY the Gunner, PRESmUI'a'mN 
the Corporal, SEDITION the Trumpeter, I)RUNKENNESS the 
Drummer. 
Vices are the Sails, custom the Mainmast, example of the 
multitude the Foremast, lusts and passions the Cables, 



• ««.] PINNACE CHASED BY THE GALLEON OF HELL. 50 

blindness of mind the Rudder, hardness of heart the Helm, 
the wisdom of the flesh the Card, the mystery of iniquity the 
Compass. The rive senses, or if you will, scoffing Atheists, 
profane foul-mouthed drunkards, and all the rabble of hell 
are the Mariners. Lewd affections the Passengers, LITTLE 
.CrSClErCE the Load star. 
She hath two tire of great ordnance planted in her,. 
Heresy and Irreligion ; being either for a false god, or none. 
Oaths, blasphemy, and curses are the Powder and Shot: 
which they spit against all that worship the LrB, or fight 
under the Ensign of Faith. Her Armour is carnal security. 
The Flag in her Top is infidelity: the mollo, Thcre is no 
god, but gain ! 
Her Ballast, which keeps her upright, is Ignorance. Most 
of ber Tackling she has from Rome, or Amsterdam. ArT- 
cxarisT, as Pilot, steers her in such a course that she goes on 
swiftly, proudly, securely, scorning and scoffing (SENNAC'flE.- 
IIB like) to hear that any Lord should deliver this poor 
Pinnace out of her hands. 
Yet in the sequel, this silly Pink, having the Insurance of 
GOD's omnipresence, finds hot only succour from the Stock 
of the Church's prayers, which, like another Merchantman, 
corne in to the rescue: but, likewise that GOD's Almighty 
power and providence is near al hand, as a strong Castle of 
Defence to free her, whereby she escapes, even as a bird out 
of the snare of the hunter, to praise the LORD : who bath 
hOt given ber as a prey unto their teeth, that would have 
svallowed up ail quick; but delivered her from such swelling 
waters, floods of affliction and streams of persecution, as 
else had gone over her and even drowned her soul, as it is 
19salin cxxiv. While this great Galleon (though il seems like 
that Invincible Armada) files; and, having noAnchor, when the 
storms of GOD's wrath arise, down she sinks to desperation ; 
and perisheth in the bottomless pit or burning lake of tire 
and brimstone: where ve will leave her to receive a just 
recompense of reward. R.Y. 
J_.ondon. Prinlcd b., T,ro«t.4s CoT, zs for the A ulhor ; aed 
are lo be sold by S.4x.,z t;.,zx.,x», at lhe 
Vorlh 19oor of l/ze lo.,al .'cchange, 
636. 



54 

[? 

OCCLEVE» 

Clerk in the Office of the Privy Seal.] 
7"be Letter of C 
[Old forms like serviJt, serve; vallin, wiil; lellin, tell; ataht, done ; 
and the Imperatives bethe, be ; l«llith, teil ; occur in this Poem.] 
[Uttv's edition of Crl^uc*'R's lç'ark$, il. 534- 'd. 
Ur'lDO, (unto xvhose commandèment 
The gentle kindred of goddis on high 
And people infernal be obedient ; 
And ail mortal folk servin busily), 
Of the goddess son, CYTHEREA only ; 
Unto ail those that, to our deity 
Be subjects, heartily greeting, send we ! 

In general, ",ve wollin that ye know 
That Ladies of honour and reverence, 
And other Gentlewomen havin sov[n] 
Such seed of complaint in our audience, 
Of men that do them outrage and oflcnce ; 
That it our earis grieveth for to hear, 
So piteous is the effect of this matcre. 

Passing ail landis, on the little isle 
That clepèd is Albion, they most complain, 
They say that there, is crop and root of guile : 
So can those men dissimulin and feign, 
With standing dropis in their eyin tvain ; 
When that their heartis feeleth no distress, 
To blindin women with their doubleness. 



:T.O«=];]] T H E LETTER OF C u PID. 

Their wordis, spoken be so sighingly, 
With so piteous a cheer and countenance 
That every wight that meaneth truly 
Deemeth they in heart havin such grievance. 
They say, "So importable is their penance, 
That but their lady lust to shew them grace 
They, right anon, must starvin in the place." 

" Ah, Lady mine!" they say, " I you ensure 
As doth me grace! and I shall ever be, 
,Vhile that my life may lasting and endure 
To you as humble and low in each degree 
As possible is, and keep all things in secte[t] 
Right as your selfin listeth that I do ! 
And ellis mine heartè must burst in two." 

Full hard it is, to know a manis heart 
For outward may no man the truthè deem. 
When word out of the mouth, may none astert 
But it, by reason seemed a wight to queme, 
Soit is said of heart, as it would seem. 
0 faithful woman ! full of innocence ! 
Thou art deceivèd by false appearance ! 

13y process moveth off woman's pity. 
Weeni.ng ,all things were as these men ysay, 
They grant them grace, of their benignity, 
For .that men shouldin hOt, for their sake die, 
And with good heart, settin them in the way 
Of blissful love: keepin it, if they con! 
And thus, otherwhi!e, women bethe ywon. 



56 TrIE LETTER OF CUPID. [ ra'.Occlev«,,o,. 

And when this man, the pan hath by the steel 
And fully is in his possession ; 
With that woman keepeth he no more to deal 
After, if he may findin in the town 
Any woman, his blind affection 
Unto bestow. But evil mote he preve! 
A man, for all his oaths, is hard to believe! 

And for that every false Man hath a Make, 
(As unto every wight is light to know) 
\Vhen this traitor, this woman hath forsake, 
He fast speedeth him unto his fellow. 
Till he be there, his heart is on a low; 
His false deceit ne may him not suffice, 
t3ut of his treason telleth all the wise. 

ls this a fair avaunt ? Is this honour ? 
A man himself accuse thus and defame ! 
Is it good to confess himself a traitor ? 
And bring a woman into slanderous naine 
And tell how he ber body hath do shame ? 
No worship may he thus, to him conquer, 
But great dislander unto him and her ! 

Toher! Nay! Yetywasitnoreprefe; 
For all for virtue was, that she ywrought ! 
But he that brewèd bath all this mischief, 
That spake so fait, and falsely inward thought ; 
His, be the slander ! as it by reason ought 
And unto Her be thank perpetual 
That, in such a need, helpin can so well. 



TrIE LETTER or CVID 57 

Although through manis sleight and subtilty, 
A silly simple and innocent woman 
]3etrayed is : no wonder ! since the city 
Of Troyè, as the story tellin tan, 
t3etrayèd was, through the deceit of man, 
.And set on tire, and all down overthrown 
And finally destroyèd, as men know.6n. 

Betrayin not men, cities great and kings ? 
What wight is it that can shape remedy 
Against these falsely proposèd things ? 
When can the craft, such craffs to espy 
But man ? whose xvit is e'er ready to apply 
To thing that sowning is into falshede ? 
Woman ! bethe'ware of false men ! I thee rede ! 

_And, furthermore, have these men in usage 
That where they not likely been to sped 
-Such as they been, with a double visage, 
They procurin, for to pursue their need 
He prayeth him, in his cause to proceed. 
And largely guerdoneth she his travail. 
Little wot women, how men them assail 

.Another wretch, unto his fellow saith, 
" Thou fishest fair! She which that thee hath fired 
Is false, inconstant, and she hath no faith. 
She for the road, of folk is so desired ; 
And, as an horse, from day to day she is hired l. 
That when thou twinnest from her company, 
Cometh another ; and bleared is thine eye! 



5 8 

T. 
Occle. 
T Il E L E T T E R O F C u P I D 

Noxv prick on fast ! and ridin thy journey 
While thou art there! For she, behind thy back, 
So liberal is, she will nothing withsay, 
But smartly of another take a smack. 
And thus farin these women ail the pack 
Vhoso them trusteth, hanged mote he be ! 
Ever they desire change and novelty." 

Wherefore proceedeth this, but of envy ? 
For that he himself, her ne xvinnin ma)', 
He speaketh her reprefe and villainy ; 
As manis blabbing tongue is wont alway. 
Thus divers men full often make assay, 
For to disturbin folk in sundry wise, 
For they may not eschuin their emprise. 

Many one eke would speakin for no good, 
That hath in love his timè spent and used. 
Men wist, his Lady his asking withstood ; 
Ere that he were of her, plainly refused. 
Or waste and vain all that he had ymused : 
" x, Vherefore he can none other remedy, 
But on his Lady, shapeth him to lie. 

"Every woman," he saith, "is light to get, 
Can none say, ' Nay ! ' if she be xvell ysought ; 
Whoso may leisure have with her to treat 
Of his purpose, ne shall be failin ought 
But he on madness be so deep ybrought 
That he shende all with open homeliness 
That loven women. They doting ! as I gucss. TM 



*T. Oc¢,«.«-] T H E LETTER OF C u PID 
4o2._J 

To slaunder vomen thus, what may profit 
To gentleness ? namely, that them arm should 
In defence of women, and them delight 
As that the Order of Gentleness would ? 
If that a man list gentle to be held 
He must all eschew that thereto is contrary. 
A slanderous tongue is his great enemy [ 

9 

A foui vice it is, of tongue to be light. 
For whoso mochil clappeth, gabbeth of t. 
The Tongue of Man so swift is, and so wight 
That when it is yraisèd up on loft, 
Reason is shewed so slowly and soft, 
That it him never overtakin may. 
Lord! so these men been trusty in assay t. 

lbeit that men find one woman nice, 
Inconstant, recheless, and variable, 
Deignous and proud, full fillèd of malice, 
Without faith or love, and deceivable, 
Sly, quaint, false, in all untrust culpable, 
Wicked or tierce, or full of cruelty : 
Yet followeth hot that such, all women be ! 

When the high GOD, angellis formèd had : 
Amongis them all formed, vere there ncne 
That foundin were malicious and bad ? 
Yet all men wotin, there were many one 
That for their pride fell from heaven anon. 
Should ve, forthy, give all angels proud name ? 
Nay, he that that sustaineth, is to blame ! 



60 T H E LETTE R OF C u PID. [ .T. Occ,«,«,,o,. 

Of twelve Apostles, one a traitor was ; 
The remenant yet good werin and true. 
8o if it happen men findin, percase, 
A woman false ; such, good is to eschew : 
And deem hot all that they therefore be untrue. 
I see well, that menis own falseness 
Them causeth, woman for to trust the less. 

O, every man ought have a heart tender 
To a woman, and deem her honourable 
\Vhether her shape be thick, or else slender, 
Orshebegoodorbad! Itisnofable. 
Every wight wot, that wit hath reasonable, 
That of a woman, he descendèd is : 
Then is it shame of her to speak amiss 

A wicked tree, good fruit may none forth brlng ; 
For such the fruit, is aye as is the tree. 
Take heed of whom thou take thy beginning ! 
Let thy mother be mirror unto thee ! 
Honour ber, if thou wilt honoured be ! 
Despiseth ber then hOt, in no manere ! 
Lest that thereby thy wickedness appear. 

An old proverb there said is, in English, 
That bird or fowl, soothly, is dishoncst 
Il'bat that hc bc, and holdiu full chudish 
That useth fo dcfoulin his own nest. 
Men to sa)" well of women, itis the best : 
And naught to despisin them, ne deprave ; 
If that they will their honour keep or save. 



t T. O«=,«.«] T H E LETTER OF CU PID 
x4o,..j o 
The Ladies ever complain them on Clerks 
That they have made bookis of their defame ; 
In which they despise women and their works, 
And speakin of them great reproof and shame : 
And causèless give them a wicked name. 
Thus they despisèd be, on every side, 
Dislanderèd and blown upon full wide. 

6| 

Those sorry books make mention 
How women betrayed in especial 
ADAM, DAVID, SAMPSON, and SOLOMON, 
And many one more ; who may rehearse them al], 
The treasons that they havin done, and shall ? 
The world their malice may not comprehend 
(As Clerkis feign), for if ne hath none end. 

OvlD, in his book callèd Remedy 
Of Love, great reproof of woman yvriteth, 
\Vherein, I know that he did great folly ; 
And every wight who, in such case, him delighteth. 
A Clerkis custom is, when he enditeth 
Of women (be it prose, or rhyme, or verse) 
Say, "They be wicked !" all know he the reverse. 

And the book Scholars learned in their childhead 
For they of women beware should in age, 
And to lovin them, ever be in dread. 
Sith to deceive, is all their courage, 
They say, of peril, men should cast the advantage,- 
Namely, of such as men havin bewrapped : 
For many a man by woman hath mishapped. 



62 T H E L ETTER OF fi UPID. [ .a:.oed«,,. 

No charge is what so these Clerkis ysain 
Of all their writing, I ne do ne cure 
All their labour and travail is in vain 
For between me and my Lady Nature 
Sball not be suffred, while the world may 'dure. 
Thus these Clerkis, by their cruel tyranny, 
On silly women, kithin their mastery. 

VChilom, for many of them were in my chain 
Ytied; and now, for unwieldy age 
.And unlust, they may not to love attain : 
And sain, now, that "Love is but very dotage !" 
Thus, for they themselfin lackin courage, 
They folk excitin by their wicked saxvs 
For to rebell against Me, and my laws! 

I3ut, maugre them that blamin women most, 
Such is the force of rnine impression 
l'hat, suddenly, I can fell all their boast, 
And all their wrong imagination. 
It shall not be in their election, 
The foulest slut in all the town to refuse ; 
If that me lust, for all that they can muse : 

I3ut ber in heart, as brenningly desire 
As though she were a Duchess, or a Queen ; 
8o can I folkis heartis set on tire 
And, as me list, sendin them joy or teen. 
They that to women ben ywhet so keen, 
My sharpè piercing strokis ! hoxv they smite ! 
Shall feel and knowin, how they kerve and bite ! 



: T. O«c] TIE LETTER OF Cul'Il). 6 3 

Pardie ! this Clerk, this subtle sly OVID, 
And many another deceivèd have be 
Of women, as it is knowin full .,vide. 
What! no men more ! and that is great dainty 
So excellent a Clerk as was he ! 
And other more, that couldin full well preach 
Betrapped were, for aught that they could teach ! 

/knd trusteth xvell, that it is no marvail ! 
For v«omen knowin plainly their intent. 
They wist how softily they could assail 
Them ; and what falsehood they, in heartè meant : 
And thus they Clerkis, in their danger hent, 
lVith one renom, another is destroyed ! 
And thus these Clerkis often were annoyed. 

These Ladies, ne these gentles ne'ertheless, 
Where none of those that wroughtin in this ,,vise ; 
]3ut such women as werin vertueless 
They quiltin thus, these old Clerkis ,,vise. 
To Clerkis muchil less ought to suflïce 
Than to dispravin xvomen generally ; 
For worship shallin they none get thereby. 

If that these men, that lovers them pretend, 
To women werin faithful, good, and true, 
And dread them to deceive, or to offend ; 
Women, to love them wouldin not eschexv. 
]But, every day, hath man an heart new ! 
It, upon one abidin can, no xvhile. 
XVhat force is it, such a wight to beguile? 



¢4 TtE LETTER OF CUPID . [ .* T. Oçl,,.,,o,. 

Men bearing, eke, the women upon hand 
That lightly, and withoutin any pain 
They women be ; they can no wight withstand 
That his disease list to them to complain ! 
They be so frail, they may them not refrain 
But whoso liketh them, may lightly have 
So be their heartis easy in to grave. 

To Master JEAN DE I[EUN, as I suppose, 
Then, it was a lewd occupation, 
In making of the Romance of the Rose, 
So many a sly imagination, 
And perils for to rollin up and down, 
The long process, so many a slight cautel 
For to deceive a silly damosel ! 

Nought can I say, ne my vit comprehend, 
That art, and pain, and subtilty should fail 
For to conquer, and soon to make an end ; 
When men, a feeble place shullin assail : 
And soon, also, to vanquish a battle 
Of which no xvight may makin resistance; 
Ne heart hath none, to make any defence. 

Then mote it follow, of necessity, 
Sith art asketh so great engine and pain 
A woman to deceive, what so she be ? 
Of constancy be they not so barren 
As that some of these silly Clerkis feign ; 
• But they be, as women oughtin tobe, 
Sad, constant, and full fillèd of pity. 



,T.O«,«-« THE LETTER OF CUPID 6 5 
1402._ I » 

How friendly was !IEDEA to JASON 
In his Conquering of the Fleece of Gold ! 
How falsely quit he, her true affection, 
By whom victory he gate as he would ! 
How may this man, for shame, be so bold 
To falsin her, that, from his death and shame 
Him kept, and gare him so great a prize and name ? 

Of Troy also, the traitor zENEAS, 
The faithless wretch [ hoxv he himself forswore 
To DIDO, which that Queen of Carthage was 
That him relievèd of his smartis sore ! 
What gentleness might she have doin more 
Than she, with heart unfeigned, to him kidde ? 
And what mischief to ber thereof betid ! 

In my Legend of Natures may men find 
(Whoso yliketh therein for to read) 
That oathis ne behest may man not bind 
Of reprovable shame have they no dread 
In manis heart truth ne hath no stead. 
The soil is naught ; there may no troth ygrow. 
To women, namely, it is not unknow[n]. 

Clerkis feign also there is no malice 
Like unto woman's wicked crabbedness. 
Woman! how shalt thou thyself chevice ; 
Sith men of thee, so mochil harm witness ? 
Beth ware ! O Woman ! of their fickleness. 
Kepeth thine ownè ! what men clap or crake ! 
And some of them shall smart, I undertake 
Gt IV. 



66 THE LETTER OF CUPID . [ :T. Oc.-,ev« 

Malice of xvomen ! \Vhat is it to dread ? 
They slay no man, destroyin no cities, 
Ne oppress people, ne them overlaid, 
]3etray Empires, Realms, or Duchies, 
Nor bereaven men their landis, ne their mees, 
Empoison folk, ne bouses set on tire, 
Ne false contractis makin for no hire. 

Trust, Perfect Love, and Entire Charity, 
Fervent Will, and Entalented Courage, 
All the»vis good, as sitteth »vell to be, 
Have women, ere, of custom and usage. 
And well they canin manis ire asuage, 
With sort wordis, discreet and benign. 
What they be inward, they shoxv outward by sign! 

\Vomanis heart unto no cruelty 
Inclined is; but they be Charitable, 
Piteous, Devout, Full of Humility, 
Shamefast, Debonaire, and Amiable, 
Dread full, and of wordis measurable : 
\Vhat xvomen, these have not, peradventure ; 
Followeth hot the way of their nature. 

Men sayin that our First Mother na'theless 
Made all mankind lesin his liberty, 
And nakid it of joyè, doubtless, 
For GODis hest disobeyèd she, 
Vhen she presumed to taste of the tree, 
That GOD forbade, that she eat thereof should. 
And ne had the Devil be, no more she would ! 



?T'°ccl«v«-I T H E LETTER OF CU PID 
i40... ] * 

The envious swelling, that the Fiend our foe 
Had unto man in heart, for his wealth, 
Sent a serpent, and made her for to go 
To deceive EvE ; and thus xvas manis wealth 
Bereft him by the Fiend, in a stealth, 
The xvoman hot knowing of the deceipt, 
God wot ! Full far was it from ber conceipt ! 

67 

Wherefore I say, that this good woman EVE 
Our father ADAM, ne deceived nought. 
There may no man for a deceipt it prove 
Properly, but that she, in heart and thought, 
Had it compassed* first, ere she it xvrought. 
And for such was hot her Impression, 
Men may it ca!l no Deceipt, by reason. 

Ne no wight disceiveth, but he purpose ! 
The Fiend this deceipt cast, and nothing She. 
Then it is wrong to deemin or suppose 
That of his harm She should the causè be. 
Wytith the Fiend, and his be the maugre ! 
And ail excusèd have her innocence, 
Save only, that she brake obedience! 

And touching this, full fewè men there be, 
Unnethis any, dare I safely say ! 
From day to day, as men may all day see, 
But that the hest of GOD they disobey. 
Have this in mindè, siris! I you pray. 
If that ye be discreet and reasonable ; 
Ye will her hold the more excusable ! 



68 "I'HE LETTER OF CUPID [,T. Ocel,ve. 
• Z4OZ. 

And where men say, " In man is stedfastness 
And voman is of her courage unstable." 
"Who may of ADau bear such a witness ? 
Tellith me this ! Was he not changeable 
They both werin in one case semblable. 
Save that willing, the Fiend deceived EvE 
And so did she hOt AD,I, by your leave 

Yet was this sinnè happy to mankind, 
The Fiend disceivèd was, for all his sleight ; 
For aught he could him in his sleightis wind. 
For his trespass, came fl'om heaven on height 
GOD, to discharge man of his heavy weight 
He, flesh and blood vtook of a Virgine, 
And suffered death, him to deliver of pine. 

And GOD, to whom there may nothing hid be, 
If he, in voman knowen had such malice, 
As men record of them in generalty ; 
Of our Lady, of Lire Reparatrice 
He n'old bave be born : but that she of vice 
Was void, and full of virtue, well He wist, 
Endowid ! of her, tobe born Him list. 

Her heapèd virtue hath such excellence 
That ail too lean is manis faculty 
To declare it; and therefore in suspense 
Her due praising put, needis must ybe. 
But this I sayin, Verily, that she 
Next GOD, best fliend is, that to Man 'longeth. 
The Key of Mercy by her girdle hangeth ! 



T.O«c,«.«] THE LETTER OF CUPID 69 
X402.J * 

And of mercy, hath every man such need, 
That razing that, farewel the joy of man ! 
And of her power, now takith right good heed ! 
She, mercy may well, and purchasin can. 
Depleasith her not! Honoureth that woman ! 
And other women, honour for her sake ! 
And but ye do, your sorrow shall awake! 

In any book also, where can ye find 
That of the workis of death or of lire, 
Of JEsu spelleth or maketh any mind 
That women, Him forsoke, for woe or strife ? 
XVhere was there any vight so ententife 
Aboutin Him as woman ? Provid none [ 
Tbe Apostles him forsokin everichone. 

Woman forsoke Him not! For ail the faith 
Of holy church in xvoman left only ! 
These are no lies, for thus Holy Writ saith, 
Look ! and ye shall so find it hardily ! 
And therefore I may well provin thereby 
That in woman reigneth stable constancy; 
And in men is change of variancy. 

Thou Precious Gem I Of martyrs, Magarite ! 
That of thy blood, dreadest none effusion ! 
Thou Loyer true! Thou Maiden mansuete ! 
Thou, constant Woman ! in thy passion 
Overcame the Fiendis temptation ! 
And many a vight, convertid thy doctrine, 
Unto the faith of holy GOD, thou Virgin ! 



7o 

[ . T. Occleve. 
THE LETTER OF CUPID. * ,4o,. 

But, understandeth this ! I commend ber nought, 
Dy encheson of her virginity. 
Trusteth, it came never into thought ! 
For ever were I against Chastity. 
And ever shall. But, Io, this moveth me! 
Her loving heart ; and, constant to her lay, 
Drive out of my remembrance I ne may. 

Now holdith this for firm, and for no lie ! 
That this true and just commendation 
Of women, tell I for no flattery ; 
Nor because of pride or elation : 
Ber only, too, for this intention 
To give them courage of perseverance 
In virtue ; and their honour to advance. 

The more the virtue, the less is the pride. 
Virtue so digne is, and so noble in kind, 
That Vice and he will hot in fere abide. 
He putteth vices clean out of his mind, 
He flyeth from them, he leaveth them behind. 
O, \Voman ! that of Virtue, art hostess ; 
Great is thy honour, and thy worthiness ! 

Then will I thus concludin and define. 
\Ve, you command ! our ministers each one 
That ready ye be, our hests to incline ! 
That of these falsè men, our rebell foen 
Ye doin punishment ! and that, anon ! 
Void them our Court ! and banish them for ever ! 
So that therein more comin, may they never ! 



,T. Occ, eve.'] Tue LETTER OF CUPID 7 I 
14o._j • 

Fulfilled be it ! Ceasing all delay, 
Look that there be none excusation ! 
\Vritten in the lusty month of May, 
In our Palace, where many a million 
Of loyers true, have habitation; 
In the year of grace, joyful and jocond, 
A thousand, four hundred and second. 

7hus endeth 
]etter of Ç v" . 



EDWARD UNDERHILL, Esq. 
of the Band of Gendemen Pensioners, 
surnamcd, " The hot Gospeller." 
Examination and Imprisonment in 4ugust 
anecdotes 
t]e 
Time. 
1 5 5 3 ; Ç 
[HaH. MS. 425.1 
[Narrati,e*  t Day*  t Ronation. Camden Siety. 18S9. ] 
A Note of the Examination and Imprisonment of EDWARD 
UNDERHLL (son and h¢ir of THOMAS UNDERmLL of 
Honingham, in the county of Warvick, Esquire) being 
of the Band of the Pensioners [sceaU. 93-94], for a ballet 
that he ruade against the Papists, immediately affer the 
Proclamation of Queen MARY at London ; she being in 
Norfolk. 
HE next day [4th] affer the Queen was corne to 
the Tover [on the 3rd of A ugust, 1553] ; the fore- 
said ballet [ballad] came into the hands of Secretary 
[Sir JOHN] BOURNE; xvho straightvays ruade 
inquiry for me, the said EDWARD, who dwelt at 
Limehurst [Limchouse]; which he having intelligence of, sent 
the Sheriff of Middlesex, with a company of bills and glaives 
[lances, with a cutting blade at the eM of each] ; who came unto 
my house, I being in my bed, and my wife being nely laid 
in child-bed. 
The High Constable, whose naine was THOMAS IrE, dwelt 
at the next house unto me, the said EDWARD ; whom the 
Sheriff brought also vith him. He, being my very friend, 
desired the Sheriff and his company to stay without, for fear 
of af]frighting of my wife, being newly laid ; and he vould go 
and fetch me unto him. Who knocked at the door, saying, 
" He must speak with me." 
I, lying so near that I might hear him, called unto him, 
willing him " to corne unto me  " for that he was always my 
very friend, and earnest in the Gospel. Who declared unto 



E. UnderhUl.'] UNDERHILL AT THE COUI'CIL DOOR. 73 
 z56a./ 

me that the Sheriff, with a great company with him, was 
sent for me. 
Whereupon I rose, made me ready, and came unto him, 
demanding, " What he would with me ?" 
" Sir," said he, " I have commandment from the Council 
to apprehend you, and forthxvith to bring you unto them." 
" Why," said I, "if is now ten o'clock in the night ; ye 
cannot, now, carry me unto them ! " 
" No, Sir," said he, " you shall go with me to my bouse to 
London, where you shall bave a bed : and to-morrow, I \viii 
bring 3"ou unto them at the Tower." 
" In the name of GOD ! [=most cc»'tainly]," said I : and so 
went with him, requiring [i,quiring of] him, " If I might 
understard the cause." 
He said, " He knew none." 
" This needed hot, then," said I; "any one messenger 
"might have fetched me unto them ": suspecting the cause 
to be, as it was indeed, the ballet. 
On the morrow [sth of A ugust, I553], the Sheriff, seeing me 
nothing dismayed, thinking it to be some light marrer, \vent 
hot with me himself : but sent me unto the Tower xvith txvo of 
his men, xvaiting upon me with txvo bills [mcn with halberts], 
prisoner-like, who brought me unto the Council Chamber; 
being commanded to deliver me unto Secretary BOURNE. 
Thus standing waiting at the Council Chamber door, two 
or three of my fellows, the Pensioners, and my cousin-german 
GILBERT \VYNTER, Gentleman Usher unto the Lady ELIZA- 
BETH [see b. I2O], stood talking with me. 
In the meantime, cometh Sir EDWARD HASTINGS [sce 
Vol. III. p. 147 ], newly ruade Master of the Horse to the 
Queen, and seeing me standing there prisoner, frowning ear- 
nestly upon me, said, " Are you corne ? \Ve will talk with you 
or your part3", I xvarrant you !" and so went into the Council. 
\Vith that, my fellows and kinsman shrank away from me, 
as men greatly afraid. 
-I did then perceive the said Sir EDXVARD bare in re- 
membrance the controversy that was betxvixt him and 
me in talk and questions of religion at Calais, when the 
Right Honourable the Earl of HUNTINGDON, his brother, 
went over, General of6,ooo men : with whom I \vent the 
,. saine time, and was Controller of the Ordnance, 



74 OLD DISPUTATIONS AT CALAIS. [E. Underhill.t z6*. 

The Earl being visited with sickness when he came 
thither, for that I xvent over in his company, and could 
play and sing to the lute, therewith to pass away 
the time, on the nights being long, for we went over 
in Christmas ir552], would have me with him in his 
chamber ; and had also a great delight to hear his brother 
reason with me in matters of religion. Who would be 
very hot, when I did overlay him with the texts of the 
Scripture concerning the naturai presence of CHRIST in 
the sacrament of the altar ; and would swear great oaths, 
speciaily, " by the Lord's foot ! " that after the words 
spoken by the priest there remained no bread, but the 
natural body that MAlV bare. 
" Nay, then, it must needs be so," would I say, " and 
[if] )'ou prove it with such oaths 
Whereat the Earl would laugh heartily, sayin, 
" Brother, give him over! UNDEIHILL is too good for 
you ! " \Vherewith he would be very angry. 
The greatest hold that he took of, was of the 3rd of 
ffoH2v, upon those words, "And no man ascendeth up to 
heaven, but He that came down from heaven, that is to 
say, the Son of Man which is in heaven." I drove him 
from the 6th of Ol-ZN and all other places that he could 
allege ; but from this, he would not be removed, but 
that those words proved his natural body to be in heaven 
and in the sacrament also. I told him he as grossly 
understood CHRIST, as NcoI)EMUS did in the same place, 
of " being born anew." 
In my opinion, any man that is not given up of GOD, 
may be satisfied concerning the natural presence in the 
Supper of the Lord, by the Gospel of Saint JOHN, reading 
from the first chapter to the end of the seventeenth ; with 
the witness of the first of the Acts of the Apostles of 
CHRIST'S ascension and coming again ; if ever he will be 
satisfied, without the help of any Doctors. 
Undoubtedly, the apprehending of me was for this matter : 
but the great mercy of GOD so provided for me, that Master 
HASTINGS was hot at my examination. For tarryingthus at 
the Chamber dor, Doctor Cox [afterwards Bishop of JïLY] 
xvas within ; who came forth, and was sent to the Marshalsea. 
Then came forth the Lord FERRERS, [Viscount HEREFORI)j, 



X. Underhin.'lt xS6*.A BEFORE THE PRIV¥ COUNCIL. 75 

and was committed to the Tower. Then it vas dinner time, 
and ail were commanded to depart until after dinner. 
My two waiting men and I went to an alehouse to dinner ; 
and, longing to know my pain [pmdshment], I made haste to 
get to the Council Chamber door, that I might be the first. 
Immediately, as they had dined, Secretary BOURNE came 
to the door, looking as a volf doth for a lamb; unto whom 
my two keepers delivered me, standing next unto the door : 
for there were more behind me. 
He took me in greedily, and shut to the door; leaving. 
me at the nether [lower] end of the Chamber, he went unto 
the Council showing them of me : and then beckoned me to 
corne near. 
Then they began the table, and sat them down. The Earl 
of BEDFORD sat as chier, uppermost upon the bench. Next 
unto him, the Earl of SUSSEX; next him, Sir RICHARD 
SOUTH,VELL. 
On the side next me, sat the Earl of ARUNDEL; next him. 
the Lord PAGET. By them, stood Sir JOHI GAGE, then 
Constable of the Tower; the Earl of BATH, and Master 
[afterwards Sir ffOHN] IASON. 
At the board's end, stood Serjeant MORGAN [who, latcr o, 
condemned Lady ,NE GnEY] that afterwards died mad ; and 
Secretary [Sir JOHN] BOURIE. 
The Lord WENTWORTH [the Lord Dc#uty of Calais, when 
lost; seep. 173] stood in the bay window, talking with one, 
all the while of my examination, whom I knew hot. 

My Lord of BEDFORD being my very friend, (for that my 
chance was to be at the recovering of his son, my Lord 
RUSSELL, when he was cast into the Thames against the 
Limehurst, whom I carried to my house and got him to 
bed ; who was in great peril of his lire, the weather being 
very cold)would not seem to be familiar with me, nor 
called me not by my naine, but said, " Corne hither, 
sirrah ! did not )ou set forth a ballet of late, in print ? " 
I kneeled dovn, saying, " Yes, truly, my Lord ! Is that 
the cause I am called belote our Honours ? " 
"Ay, marry," said Secretary BOURNE, " you have one ot 
them about you, I am sure." 
" N ay, truly, have I not," said I. 



7 6 SHARPLY QUESTIONED FOR IIIS BALLAD. [E. Underhill. 

Then he took one out of his bosom, and read it over dis- 
tinctly ; the Council givin diligent ear. 
When he had ended, " I trust, my Lords," saîd I, " I have 
hot offended the Queen's Majesty in this ballet ; nor spoken 
against her title, but maintained it." 
" You bave, sir," said Morgan, " yes, I can divide your 
ballet, and make a distinction in it ; and so prove at the least 
sedition in it." 
"Ay, sir," said I, " you men of law will make of a matter 
what ye list [ " 
" Lo," said Sir RICHARD SOUTHXVELL, " how he can give 
a taunt! You maintain the Queen's title, with the help of 
an arrant heretic, TYNDALE." 
"You speak of Papists there, sir," said Master M,xsoN, "I 
pray you, how define you a Papist ? " 
I look upon him, turning towards him ; for he stood on the 
side of me, " Wh)', sir," said I, " it is hOt long since you 
could define a Papist better than I " [meaning that he had 
lurned with the ncw change of rcligion], x.Vith that some 
of them secretly smiled ; as the Lords of BEDFORD, ARVtqDEL, 
StSSEX, and PAGET. 
In great haste, Sir Jon GAGE took the matter in hand, 
"Thou callest men Papists there," said he, "who be they 
that thou judgest to be Papists ? " 
I said, " Sir, I do name no man, and I came hot hither to 
accuse any, nor none will I accuse; but your Honours do 
know that in this Controversy that hath been, some be called 
Papists, and some Protestants." 
" But we must know whom thou judgest to be Papists, and 
that we command thee, upon thine allegiance to declare !" 
" Sir," said I, " I think if you look among the priests in 
Paul's, ye shall find some old Mumpsimuscs there." 
"Mumpsimuses, knave [ " said he, " Mumsimuses ! Thou 
art an heretic knave, by God's blood ! " 
" Ay, by the mass ! " says the Earl of BATH, " I warrant 
him an heretic knave indeed." 
" I beseech your Honours !" said I, speaking to the Lords 
that sat at table; for those other stood bv, and xvere hOt 
then of the Council, "' be my good Lords ! l'have offended no 
laws, and I have served the Queen's Majesty's father and 
brother a long rime ; and in their service have spent and con- 



E. Vnde,hill.'] ORDERED TO BE SENT TO NEWGATE. 77 
562.J 

sumed part of my living, never having, as yet, any preferment 
or recompense ; and the rest of my fellovs likewise, to our 
utter undoings, unless the Queen's Highness be good unto 
us. And for my part, I went not forth against Her Majesty; 
notwithstanding that I was commanded, nor liked those 
doings." 
" No, but vith your vritings, you vould set us together by 
the ears ! " said the Earl of ARUNDEL. 
" He hath spent his living wantonly," saith I3OURNE, " and 
now saith he has spent it in the King's service; which I ara 
sorry for. He is corne of a xvorshipful house in X, Vorcester- 
sbire." 
" It is untruly said of you," said I, " that I have spent my 
living wantonly : for I never consumed any part thereof until 
I came into the King's service ; which I do hOt repent, nor 
doubted of recompense, if either of my two masters had lived. 
I perceive you [to bel BOURNE'S son of \Vorcester; who was 
beholden unto my uncle ÇYNTER, and therefore you have no 
cause to be my enemy: nor you never knew me» nor I you 
before now, which is too soon." 
" I have heard enough of you," said he. 
"So have I of you," said I, "how that Master SHELDON 
drave you out of Worcestershire, for your behaviour." 
With that, came Sir EOWARO HASTttqGS from the Queen, 
in great haste, saying, " My Lords! you must set all things 
apart, and corne forthwith to the Queen." 
Then said the Earl of StISSEX, " Have this gentleman unto 
the Fleet until we may talk further with him!" though I 
was " knave," before, of Master GAGE. 
" To the Fleet ! " said Master SOtTHWELL, " have him to 
the Marshalsea ! " 
" Have the gentleman to Newgate ! " saith Master GaGE 
again, "Call a couple of the Guard here." 
" Ay," saith I3OtmtqE, " and there shall be a letter sent to 
the keeper how he shall use him ; for we have other manner 
of matters to him than these." 
" So had ye need," said I, "or else I care not for you ! " 
" Deliver him to Master [aftcr Sir I|rlLLIAM] GARRARO, 
the Sheriff [of London]," said he, "and bid him send him to 
Newgate." 
"My Lord," said I, unto my Lord of ARUNDEL, (for that he 



TE. Underhill. 
î8 APPEALS IN VAIN TO LORD HASTINGS. 

was next to me) as they were rising, " I trust you will not 
see me thus used, to be sent to Newgate. I am neither thief 
nor traitor." 
" You are a naughty fellow ! " said he, "you were alxvays 
tutting in the Duke of blORTHUMBERLAND'S ear, that you 
were ! " 
" I would he had given better ear unto me," said I ; " it 
had not been with him then, as it is now" [waiting his trial i, 
the Towcr]. 

Master HASTINGS passing by me, I thought good to prove 
him ; although he threatened me, hefore noon. 
" Sir," said I, " I pray you speak for me, that I be not 
sent to Newgate ; but rather unto the Fleet, which was first 
named. I have not offended. I ara a Gentleman, asyou know; 
and one of your fellows, when you were of that Band of the 
Pensioners." 
Very quictly, he said unto me, " I was not at the talk, 
Master UNDERmLL; and therefore I can say nothing to it." 
But I think he was well content with the place I was ap- 
pointed to. 
So went I forth with my two fellows of the Guard, who 
were glad they had the leading of me, for they were great 
Papists. 
"\Vhere is that knave, the printer [if the ballad] ? " said 
Master GA6E. 
" I know not," said I. 

\Vhen ve came to the Toxver gate, where Sir JoHlq 
BRVGES [aftcrwards Lord CHANDOS of Sudcley, see p. 128] had 
the charge, [who was there] xvith his brother Master THOMAS ; 
with whom I was well acquainted, (but not with Sir JoHlq) 
who, seeing the two of the Guard leading me, without their 
halberts, rebuked them ; and stayed me while they went for 
their halberts. 
His brother said unto me, " I am sorry you should be an 
offender, Master UNIï)ERHILL." 
" I ara none, Sir ! " said I, "nor went I against the Queen." 
" I am glad of that," said he. 
And so forth we went at the gare, where was a great throng 
:f people to hear and see what prisoners were committed : and 



amongst whom stood, my friend Master IVE, the High Con- 
stable, my next neighbour. 
One of the Guard went forth at the wicket before me, to 
take me by the arm, the other held me by the other arm; 
fearing, belike, I vould have shifted [escapcdl from them 
amongst the people. 
When my friend, vho had vatched at the tate ail the fore- 
noon sav me thus led; he followed afar off, as Pza'ZR did 
ChRiST, to see what should become of me. Many also fol- 
lowed, some that knew me: some to learn who I was; for 
that I was in a gown of satin. 
Thus passed we through the streets, well accompanied, 
unto Master GARRArD, the Sheriff's bouse, in the Stocks 
Market. My friend Master IrE tarried at the gate. 
These tvo of the Guard declared unto Master Sheriff, that 
they were commanded by the Council to deliver me unto him, 
and he to send me unto Newgate: saying, " Sir, if it please 
you, we will carry him thither." 
With that, I stepped unto Master Sheriff, and, taking him 
a little aside, requested him that, forasmuch as their commis- 
sion was but to deliver me unto him, and he to send me into 
Newgate, that he vould send me by his officers: for the 
request was of mere malice. 
"With a good-will!" said Master Sheriff. 
" Masters!" said he, "you may depart! I will send my 
officers with this gentleman anon ; when they be corne in." 
"We vill see him carried, Sir ! " said they, " for our dis- 
charge." 
Then the Sheriff said sharply unto them, "\Vhat ! do 3"ou 
think that I vill not do the Council's commandment ? You 
are discharged by delivering him unto me ! " 
With that, they departed. 
My friend, Master IVE, seeing them depart and leave me 
behind, was very glad théreof: and tarried still at the gate 
to see farther. 
Ail this talk in the SherifPs hall, did my Lord RVSSELL, 
son and heir to the Earl of 13EDIORD, hear and see ; vho was 
at commandment [under arrest] in the Sheriff's house, and his 
chamber joining into the hall, wherein he might look: who 
was very sorry for me, for that I had been familiar vith him 
in matters of religion, as well on the other side the seas as 



80 
s L 0 C K E D U P I  N E W G A T E. c 
Underhill. 

at home. He sent me on the morrow, 2os. [=about £IO now] ; 
and every ,,veek as much, while I was in Newgat¢. 
\Vhen these two companions of the Guard were gone, the 
Sheriff sent two of his officers with me, who took no bills 
ith them, nor lead me; but followed a pretty way behind 
me : for as I said unto Master Sheriff, "But for order's sake 
and to save him blamcless, I would have gone unto Newgate 
myself, at the Council's commandment, or his either." 
\Vhen I came into the street, my friend Master IrE, seeing 
me have such liberty, and such distance betwixt me and the 
officers, he stepped before them, and so went talking with me 
through Cheapside: so that it was hot well perceived that I 
was apprehended, but by the great company that followed. 
The officers delivered me unto the Keeper of Newgate, as 
they were commanded : who unlocked a door, and willed me 
to go up the stairs into the Hall. My friend IVE went up 
with me; where we found three or four prisoners that had the 
liberty of the house. 
After a little talk with my friend, I required him not to let 
my vife knov that I was sent to Newgate, but [to say] to 
the Counter, until such rime that she were near her chtrching : 
and that she should send me my night-gown, my Bible, and 
my Lute. And so he departed. 
In a while after, it was supper time i.e., about 5 p.m.]. 
The board was covered in the saine hall. The Keeper, whose 
naine was ALEXANDER, and his wife came to supper; and 
hall a dozen prisoners that were there for felonies : for I was 
the first, for religion, that was sent unto that prison; but the 
cause why, the Keeper knexv not. 
One of those prisoners took acquaintance of recognised] 
me, and said, "Hewas a soldier under Sir RICHARD CROM- 
WELr. in the journey lin ffMy, 1543] to Landreci in Hain- 
ault], where he did know me and whose servant I was, 
at the same rime; and who, the next year following 
[I544], vhen the famous King HENR'« VIII. went unto 
Boulogne, did put me unto his Majesty into the room of 
a man-at-arms. Of the which Band, there were 2oo of 
us, upon barded horses, ail in one suit of red and yellow 
damask, the bards of our horses and plumes of feathers 
of the saine colours, to attend upon his Majesty for the 
defence of his person." 



E. Vnd«rm.-i BECOMES TItE WHITE SON OF THE KEEPER. 8I 
t X56-. 

After supper, thisgood fellow whose naine was BRVSTOW 
procured me to have a bed in his chamber. He could play well 
upon the rebeck [violin]. He was a tall man, and afterwards 
of the Queen [ARY'S Guard, and yet a Protestant, which he 
kept secret : " For else," he said, "he should not bave found 
such favour as he did at the Keeper's hands, and his wife's; 
for to such as love the Gospel, they were very cruel." 
"Well," said I, " I have sent for my Bible ; and by GOD's 
grace, therein shall be my daily exercise. I will hot hide it 
il'oto them." 
"Sir ! " said he, " I ara poor ; but they will bear with you, 
for that they see your estate is to pay well ; and I will shew 
you the nature and manner of them : for I have been here a 
a good while. They both do love music very well; where- 
fore you with your lute, and I to play with you on my rebeck, 
will please them greatly. He loveth to be merry, and to 
drink wine; and she also. If you will bestow upon them 
every dinner and supper a quart of wine, and some music : 
you shall be their white son, and have ail the favour that 
they can shew you ! " And so it came to pass. 
And now I think it good a little to digress from my 
marrer concerning my imprisonment and my deliverance; 
and to note the great mercy of GOD shewed unto his 
servants in that great Persecution in Queen MARY'S 
time : how mightily and how many ways he preserved 
such as did fear Him, even as He preserved DANIEL, 
JEREMY, PAUL, and many in the old time. 
Some were moved by His Spirit to flee over the seas. 
Some were preserved still in London, that, in all the 
rime of persecution, never bowed their knees unto Baal : 
for there was no such place to shift [Mde] in, in this 
realm, as London, notwithstanding their great spiall and 
search; nor no better place to shift the Easter rime 
[fo avoid being housdled, i.e., taking the sacrament] than in 
Queen MAR¥'S Court, serving in the room I did, as shall 
be shewed hereafter [ib. 88J. 
A great number, God did strengthen constantly to 
stand to His \Vord, to glorify His naine, which be 
praised for ever and ever, xvorld without end [ And some 
be preserved for these days. 
And now again to prosecute the marrer of my trouble and 



8 FALLS DANGEROUSLY ILL, OF TIIE JkGUE. E E'tnderhill't ,s6,. 

wonderful deliverance out of that loathsome gaol of New- 
gate. 
When that I had been there about two weeks [5th-ISth 
A,ust, 15531 , through the evil savours, and great unquietness 
of the lodgings, as also by occasion of drinking of a draught 
of strong Hollock la sveet] wine, as I was going to bed, 
vhich my chamber fellow would needs have me to pledge 
him in, I vas cast into an extreme burning ague, that I could 
take no test, and desiring to change my lodg, ing. And so did, 
from one to another, but none could I abide; there was so 
manv evil savours, and so much noise of prisoners. 
"l'le Keeper and his wife offered me his own parlour, where 
he himself lay: which was furthest from noise; but it va 
near the kitchen, the savour of which I could hot abide. 
Then did she lay me in a chamber, vhere she said never a 
prisoner lay, which was her store chamber, vhere all ber 
plate and money lay; which was much. 
So much friendship I found at their hands, notwithstand- 
ing that they were spoken unto, by several Paptists. And 
the \Voodmongers of London, with vhom I had had a reat 
conflict for "presenting them for false marking of billets; 
.they required the Keeper to shov me no favour, and to lay 
rons upon me, declaring that " I »vas the greatest heretic in 
London." 
My very friend Master RECORDE, Doctor of Physic, 
singularly seen in all the seven sciences, and a great Divine, 
visited me in the prison {to his great peril if it had been 
known, who long rime was at charges and pains with me, 
gratis), and also after I was delivéred. By means whèreof, 
and the Providence of GOD, I received my health. 

My wife then vas churched before her time, to be a suitor 
for my deliverance; who put up a Supplication unto the 
Council declaring my extreme sickness and small cause to be 
committed unto so loathsome a gaol ; requiring that I might 
be delivered, putting in sureties to be forthcoming to answer 
farther when I should be called. \Vhich she obtained bythe 
help of Master [afterwards Sir] JOHN THROGORTON, being 
the Master of the Requests, and my countryman [i.e., of 
lVorccstcrshire] and my kinsman. He, understanding.who 
were my enemies, took a time in their absence, and obtained 



E. Undefil.'] HOW HIS SON GUILDFORD WAS CIIRISTENED. 5 3 
. x562._] 

[on 2Ist August, 1553] a letter to the Keeper, subscribed by the 
Earl of BEi)FORD, the Earl of SussEx, [STEPHEN GARI)INER 
the Bishop of] WINCHESTER, [Sir ROBERT] ROCHESTER 
[Comptroller of the Household], and [Sir EmVARD] WALbE- 
GRAVE, to be delivered ; putting in surety, according to the 
request of my wife's Supplication. 
With whom TINCHESTER talked, concerning the 
christening of her child at the church at the Tmver Hill; 
and the gossips [sbonsors], which were the Duke of 
SUFFOLK, the Earl of PEtBROKE, and the Lady JANE, 
then being Queen : with the which, he [GARDINER] was 
rnuch offended. 
My Lady THRO6MORTON, wife unto Sir NICHOLAS 
THRO6MORTON, was the Queen's deputy; vho named 
rny son GVILDFORD after her [the Quecn's] husband. 
Immediately after the christening was done [on the 
x9th of yuly, 1553], Queen MARY was proclaimed in 
Cheapside; and when my Lady THRO6MORTON came 
into the Tover, the Cloth of Estate vas taken down, 
and ail things defaced. A sudden change ! She vould 
have gone forth again ; but could not be suffered. 
13ut now again to my matter. 
\Vhen my wife had obtained the letter, joyful she vas ; and 
brought her brother, JOHN SPErYE of London, merchant, 
with her ; a very friendly man, and zealous in the LORD : 
who vas bound vith me, according to the Council's letters 
before Master CHEELY, Justice of the Peace: vho came 
into the prison unto me ; for I vas so sick and weak that I 
was constrained to tarry a while longer, and my wife with me 
day and night. 
During all the time of my sickness, I vas constrained fo 
pay Bd. [=about 6s. Bd. now] every meal; and as mucho be rung when they were at 
the Sermon ; and sometimes begin to sing in the Choir 
belote the sermon were half done, and sometimes chal- 
lenge the Preacher in the Pulpit. For he was a strong 
stout Popish prelate : whom the godly men of the parish 
were xveary of; specially my neighbours of the Lime- 
hurst, as Master DRIçER, Master IçE, Master POINTER, 
Master I,IARCHE, and others. 
Yet durst they not meddle with him, untilit xvasmy hap 
to corne and dwell amongst them : and for that I was the 
King's Servant, I took it upon me ; and they xvent with 
me to the ]ishop to witness those things aainst him. 
\Vho was too full of lenity. A little he rebuked him, 
and bad him do no more so. 
" My Lord," said I, " methinks, you are too gentle 
unto so stout a Papist ! " 
" \Vell," said he," we have no law to punish them by." 
"\Ve have, my Lord!" said I. "'If I had your 
authority, I would be so bold to un-Vicar him ; or minister 
some sharp punishment unto him, and such other. If 
ever it corne to their turn ; they will show you no such 
favour." 
"\Vell," said he, "if GOD so provide,we must abide it." 
" Surely," said I, "GOD will never cone you thank 
for this ; but rather take the sword from such as will no. « 
use it upon His enemies." And thus ve departed. 



E'tlnd«rhm'-iTHE PRINCIPAL DICERS OF THE TIME. 8 7 

The like favour is shewed nov [i.e., in ELIZABETH'S 
rcign] ; and therefore the like plague will follow. 
There was also another spiteful enemy at Stepney, 
called BANBERY, a shifter, a dicer, &c., like unto DAPERS 
the dicer, I[ORGAN of Salisbury Court, busking [Sir 
THOtAS, also callcd Long'] PALIER, lusty YOUNG, [Sir] 
RALPH BAGNALL [see Vol. III. lb. I47], [Sir] [ILES PART- 
RIDGE [Me»ri, and such others. With which companions, 
I was conversant a while; until I fell to reading the 
Scriptures, and following the Preachers. 
Then, against the wickedness of those men, which 
I had seen among them ; I put forth a ballet, uttering the 
falsehood and knavery that I was marie privy unto. 
For the which, they so hated me that they raised false 
slanders and bruits of me, saying that " I was a spy for 
the Duke of NORTHU/vIBERLAND°': and calling me 
[Bishop] " HOOPER'S companion," for a bill that I set 
up upon Paul's gate, in defence of HOOPER ; and another 
at St. Magnus's Church, where he was too much abused, 
vith railing bills cast into the pulpit and other ways. 
Thus became I odious unto most men, and many times 
in danger of my life, even in King EDWARD'S days. As 
also for apprehending one ALLEN, a false prophesier 
[of whom UNDERHILL says elsewhere, This ROBERT 
ALLEN was called the God of Norfolk, before they re- 
ceived the light of the Gospel] ; who bruited [in ffanuar)', 
1551] that King EDWARD was dead, two years before it 
came to pass ; who was a great calculator for the saine. 
t3ut these jugglers and vicked dicers were still in favour 
among the magistrates, and were advanced; vho were the 
sovers of sedition, and the destroyers of the two Dukes. 
I pray God the like be not practised by such flatterers 
in these days [i.e., in ELIZABETH'S rcign], according to 
the old proverb, "He that will in Court dvell, must curry 
Fauvell." And 
He that will in Court abide, 
Must curry Fauvell back and side, 
[i.e., he must curry or grooln a horse, of Fauvell (a bright yellow or 
tawny) colour (opposed to Sorell, a dark colour) back and side.] 

for such get most gain. 



88 "HE IS ALL OF THE SPIRIT I" [E.U.d«h;,,. 
• ? z56« 

I was also called "the hot Gospeller!" jesting and 
mocking me, saying, "He is ail of the Spirit ! " 
This was their common custom, at their tables, fo 
jest and mock the Preachers and earnest followers of the 
Gospel ; even among the magistrates: or else [speak] in 
wanton and ribald talk; which when they fell into. one 
or other xvould look through [along] the board, saying, 
"Take heed that UNDV.RrtILL be hot here!" 
At Stratford on the Bow [now Stratford af Bow], I 
took the pix of the altar; being of copper, stored vith 
copper gods: the Curate being present, and a Popish 
Justice dwelling in the town, called Justice TAwE. 
There was commandment it should not bang in a 
string over the altar; and then, they set it upon the 
altar. 
For this act,-the Justice's wife with the women of the 
town, conspired to have murdered me; xvhich one of 
them gave me varning of, whose good will to the Gospel 
was not unknown unto the rest. Thus the Lord preserved 
me from them, and many other dangers more; but 
specially from hell tire, but that, of His mercy, He called 
me from the company of the wicked. 
This I3ANBER¥, aforesaid, was the spy for Stepney parish ; 
as JOHN AVALES, BEARD, and such others were for London : 
who [i.e., 13AIVI3ERY] caused my friend and neighbour Master 
IvE to be sent unto the Marshalsea, but the LORD shortly 
delivered him. Wherefore I thought it best to avoid [lea,e]; 
because my not coming to the church there, should by him be 
marked and presented. 
Then took I a little house in a secret corner, at the nether 
[lowcr] end of \Vood Street ; where I might better shift the 
matter. 
Sir HUMPHREY RATCLIFFE was the Lieutenant of the 
Pensioners, and always favoured the Gospel; by whose 
means I had my wages still paid me [70 marks a 3,¢ar=46 
I3S. 4d.--about 5oo now ; bcsides a fre,: diet]. 

\Vhen [Sir THOMAS] WYATT was corne to Southwark [6th 
February, 1554] the Pensioners xvere commanded to watch in 
armour that night, at the Court : which I hearing of, thought 
it best, in like sort, to be there ; lest by my absence I might 



E. Wdn.'l THE PENSIONERS WATCH AT WHITEIIALL. 89 

laave some quarrel piked unto [picked with] me; or, at the 
least, be stricken out off the book for receiving any more 
wages. 
After supper, I put on my armour as the test did ; for we 
were appointed to watch ail the night. 
So,' being ail armed, we came up into the Chamber of 
Presence, with our poleaxes in out hands. Wherewith the 
Ladies were very fearful. Some lamenting, crying, and 
wringing their hands, said, "Alas, there is some great mis- 
chief toward ! \Ve shall ail be destroyed this night ! \Vhat 
a sight is this ! to see the Queen's Chamber full of armed 
men. The like was never seen, nor heard of!" 
The Master [.|OHNJ NOIRIS, who was a Gentleman Usher 
of the Utter JOutera_ Chamber in King HEIR r VIII.'s time, 
and ail King EDWARD'S time ; always a tank Papist, and 
therefore wag now Chief Usher of Queen MAl,z's Privy 
Chamber : he was appointed to call the Watch, and see if any 
were lacking. Unto whom, MOORE, the Clerk of out Cheque, 
delivered the book of out names ; which he perused before he 
would call them at the cupboard. And when he came to my 
name, " What ! " said he, "what doth he here ? " 
"Sir," said the Clerk, " he is here ready to serve as the 
test be." 
"Nay, by God's body!" said he, " that heretic shall not 
be called to watch here! Give me a pen ." So he struck out 
my naine out of the book. 
The Clerk of the Cheque sought me out, and said unto me, 
"Master UNDERHILI.,, yOU need not to watch ! you may depart 
fo your lod«in,,  .t " 
" May I ? " said I, "I would be glad of that," thinking I 
had been favoured, because I was not recovered from my 
sickness : but I did hot vell trust him, because he was also 
a Papist. " May I depart indeed ?" said I, "will you be my 
discharge ?" 
" I tell you true," said he, " Master NORRIS hath stricken 
you out of the book, saying these vords, 'That heretic 
shall hOt watch here!' I tell you true vhat he said." 
" Marry, I thank him!" said I, "and you also! You 
could not do me a greater pleasure ! " 
" Nay, burden hot me withal!" said he, "it is not my 
doing." 



E. Underhill. 
9 ° DENIED ENTRANCEAT LUDGATE, . ,s6,. 

So departed I into the Hall, where our men were appointed 
to watch. I took my men with me, and a link; and wcnt 
my ways. 

When I came fo the Court gare, there I met with Master 
CLEMET THRO6mRTOS [ father of yoB THROG3tORTON, the 
Martinist of x589], and GEOR6E FERRERS [the Poet and His- 
torian; see p. 73!, tending their links, to go to London. 
lIaster TnRO6ORTOS vas eome post from Coventry ; and 
had been vith the Queen to deelare unto her the taking of 
the Duke of SçVFOLR. Master FEIRERS vas sent from the 
Council unto the Lord WLLL« HOWARD, who had the 
charge of the vatch at London Bridge. 
As ve vent, for that they were both my friends and 
Protestants, I told them of my good hap, and manner of dis- 
chare of the Watch at the Court. 
When ve came to Ludgate, it was past eleven o'eloek. 
The gare was fast locked ; and a great watch vithin the gate 
of Londoners, but none without : whereof HENRY PECKHAM 
had the charge, under his father; who, belike, was gone t0 
his father, or to look to the water side. " 
lIaster TIqROMORWO knocked hard, and called to them, 
saying, " Here are three or four gentlemen eome from the 
Court that must corne in ; and therefore open the gate !" 
" Who ?" quoth one," What ? " quoth another ; and much 
laug, hing they made. 
" Can ye tell what you do, sirs?" said Master TIqIO- 
iOITON, deelaring his naine, and that he had been with the 
Queen to shexv her Grace of the taking of the Duke of 
StFFOLI, " and my lodging is xvithin, as I ara sure, some of 
you do knoxv ! " 
" And," said FERES, " I ara FEERS, that was Lord of 
Misrule with King EIWaRI ; and ara sent from the Council 
unto my Lord WLLAX, xvho hath charge of the Bridge as 
you knoxv, upon weighty affairs: and therefore let us in, or 
else ye be not the Queen's friends !" 
Still there was much laughing amongst them. 
Then said txvo or three of them, " We have hOt the keys. 
XVe are hot trusted with them. The keys be carried away 
for this night." 
" What shall I do ? " said Master TngoortTo, " I ara 



E. Underhill.-[ 
: s,2.a BUT GET ADMITTANCE THROUGH NEWGATE. 91 

weary and faint, and I nov xvax cold. I am not acquainted 
hereabout ; nor no man dare open his doors at this dangerous 
rime; nor ara I able to go back again to the Court. I shall 
perish this night ! " 
" Vell," said I, " Let us go to Newgate ! I think I shall 
get in there." 
" Tush ! " said he, "it is but in vain. We shall be answered 
there as we are here." 
" Well," said I, " and fjf] the worst fall, I can lodge ye in 
Nevgate. Ye knov what acquaintance I have there ! and the 
Keeper's door is vithout the gare." 
"That were a bad shift ! " said he, " I had almost as leave 
die in the streets ; yet I will, rather than vander again to the 
Court." 
" Well," said I, "let us go and prove! I believe the 
Keeper will help us in at the gate, or else let us in through 
his wards, for he bath a door on the inside also. If ail this 
fail, I have a friend at the gate, 1NEWMAN the ironmonger ; in 
whose house I have been lodged : where, I dare warrant you, 
we shall bave lodging, or at the least, bouse-room and tire." 
" Marry, this is vell said ! " saith FERRERS. 
SO to Newgate, we went: where was a great \Vatch without 
the gate, which my friend NEWMAN had the charge of; for 
that he was the Constable. They marvelled to sec there, 
torches coming at that time of the night. 
\Vhen we came to them, " Master UNDERHILL," said 
IEWMAN, " what news, that you xvalk so late ? " 
" None but good ! " said I, " \Ve corne from the Court, and 
would have gone in at Ludgate. and cannot be let in : where- 
fore, I pray you, if you cannot help us in here, let us have 
lodging with you !" 
" Marry, that ye shall! " said he, " or go in at the gare 
whether ye will ! " 
" Godamercy, gentle friend ! "said Master THROGMORTON ; 
" I pray you let us go in, ifit may be ! " 
He called to the Constable vithin the gare, who opened 
the gate forthwith. " How happy vas I!" said Mastec 
THROGMORTON, " that I met with you. I had been lost 
else." 

When WYATT was come about [i.e.,from Southwark, througlr 



92 SIR J . GAGE ALL IN TtIE DIRT. [E. Und«rhill.: *56.. 

Kingston, fo Westminsfcr on 7fb February 1554], notwith- 
standing my discharge of the watch by Master NORRIS, I put 
on my armour, and went to the Court [at Whitehall Palace] : 
where I round all my fellows in the Hall, which they were 
appointed to keep that day. 
Old Sir JOHI GAGE was appointed xvithout the utter [outcr] 
gare, with some of his Guard, and his servants and others with 
him. The restof the Guard xvere in the Great Court, the gates 
standing open. Sir RICHARD ;OUTHXVELL had charge of the 
back sides, as the \Vood Yard and that way, with 5oo men. 
The Queen was in the Gallery by the Gatehouse. 
Then came KNEVETT and THOMAS COBHAM with a com- 
pany of the rebels with them, through the Gatehouse from 
\Vestminster: wherewith Sir JoHN GAGE and three of the 
Judges [of the Common Pleas] that were meanly armed in 
old brigantines [jackcts of quiltcd lcather, covercd with iro 
plates] were so frighted, that they fled in at the gates in such 
haste, that old GAGE fell dovn in the dirt and was foul 
arrayed : and so shut the gates, whereat the rebels shot many 
arroxvs. 
13y means of this great hurly burly in shutting of the gates, 
the Guard that were in the Court ruade as great haste in 
at the Hall door ; and would bave corne into the Hall amongst 
us, which we vould not surfer. Then they went thronging 
tovards the \Vater Gate, the kitchens, and those ways. 
Master GAGE came in arnongst us, all dirt; and so 
frighted that he could not speak to us. Then carne the three 
Judges; so frighted that we could hOt keep them out, except 
we should beat them down. 
With that we issued out of the Hall into the Ceurt, to see 
what the matter was; where there were none left but the 
porters, the gates being fast shut. As we went towards the 
gate, rneaning fo go forth, Sir RICH.XRD SOçTHWELL. came 
forth of the back yards into the Court. 
" Sir ! " said we, " command the gates fo be opened that 
we may go to the Queen's enemies ! \Ve will else break them 
open! It is too much shame that the Cates should thus be 
shut for a few rebels ! The Queen shall see us fell down ber 
enemies this day, belote ber face !" 
" Masters ! " said he, and put his morion off his head, " I 
shall desire you all, as you be Gentlemen, to stay yourselves 



E. UnderhiIl."] THE PENSIONERS,THE OUEEN'S LAST REFUGE. 93 

here ; that I may go up to the Queen to knoxv her pleasure ; 
and you shall have the gates opened. And, as I am a Gentle- 
man ! I will make speed ! " 
Upon this, we stayed ; and he made a speedy return : and 
brought us word, the Queen was content that we should have 
the gares opened : " But her request is," said he, "that you 
will not go forth of her sight ; for her only trust is in you, for 
the defence of her person this day." 
So the gate xvas opened, and xve marched before the Gallery 
window: where she spake unto us; requiring us, "As xve 
were Gentlemen, in whom she only trusted, that we would 
hot go flore that place." 
There we marched up and down the space of an hour ; and 
then came a herald posting, to bring the news that WYATT 
was taken. 
Immediately came Sir lX,{AURICE BERKELEY and ,VYATT 
behind him ; unto whom he did yietd at the Temple Gate : 
and THOMAS COBHAM behind another gentleman. 

Anon after, ve [the Gcntlcmen Pensioncrs] were all brought 
unto the Queen's presence, and every one kissed her hand; 
of whom we had great thanks and large promises hov good 
she would be unto us : but fev or none of as got anything, 
although she vas very liberal to man 3, othel's, that were 
enemies unto GOD's Word, as fev of us were. 

Thus went I home to my house, where[in , I kept, and came 
little abroad, until the marriage was concluded with King 
PHILIP. 
Then was there [the] preparing lin ..uly, 1555] to go with 
the Queen, unto Winchester; and ail the Books of the 
Ordinaries were perused by [STEPnF.Y GaRDNER] the Bishop 
of WINCnESTER and the Earl of ARçND.L, to consider o 
every man. 
Sir HUMPHREY IATCLIFFE, out Lieutenant, brought unto 
him the Book of the Pensionels ; which when they overlooked, 
they came unto my name. 
" What doth he here ? " said the Earl of AR:YDEL. 
" I knov no cause vhy he should not be here," said Master 
RATCLIFFE, "he is an honest man. He hath served rioto 
the beginning of the Band [foundcd in December, 1539, as the 



94 TIIE OVEEN'S... MARRIAGE AT WINCHESTER. lE. Uderhlll.., ,s6,. 

Band of Spcars. If consisted of a Captain, Licutenant, Standard 
beamr, Clerk of the Cheque, and Gen.tleman Harbinger, and fifly 
Gcntlemen ; chosen out of the bcst and most ancient families of 
E»gland. Some of them sons to Earls, Barons, Knights, and 
Esquires : mcn thereunto specially recommended for their worthi- 
tess and su.fficiency ; without any stain or faint of dishonour, or 
disparagement in blood], and was as forward as any to serve the 
Queen, in the time of X, VYATT'S rebellion." 
" Let him pass then ! " said the t3ishop. 
" Well," said the Earl, "you may do so ; but I assure you, 
my Lord ! he is an arch-heretic ! " 
Thus I passed once again. 

When xve came to \Vinchester, being in the Chamber of 
Presence, with my fellows, Master NORRtS came tbrth of the 
Queen's Privy Chamber; unto whom we did reverence, as 
his place required. 
" \Vhat ! " saith he unto me ; " what do you here ?" 
" Marry, sir ! " said I, " vhat do you here ? " 
" Eh ! " said he, " are you so short vith me ? " 
" Sir ! " said I, " I must and will forbear, for the place you 
be in ; but if you vere in the place you vere in, of the Outer 
Chamber, I would be shorter with 3"ou ! You were then the 
doorkeeper ; vhen ve waited at the table. Your office is hot 
to find fault at my being here. I ara at this time appointed 
to serve here, by those that be in authority ; who know me, 
as well as you do ! " 
"They shall know you better ! " said he, " and the Quecn 
also." 
With that, said Master JOhN CALVELEV, one of my fellows 
(brother unto Sir Hu CALVZLZV, of Cheshire), vho served 
at the journey to Laundercei in the same Band that I did, 
" In good faith ! Master NORRS, methinks you do hot well ! 
This gentleman, our fellow, hath served of long rime, and 
was ready to venture his life in defence of the Queen's Majesty 
at the last service, and as forward as any vas there; and 
also being appointed and ready to serve here again noxv, 
to his great charges, as it is unto us ail, methinks you do 
than the part of a Gentleman thus to seek him ! " 
" What ! " said he, " I perceive you will hold together ! " 
"Else we were worse than beasts," said my fellow ; "if we 



E'Underhll'-IDAUNCE, TIIE PREACtIING BRICKLAVER. 95 
562.3 

would hOt, in all lawful cases, so hold together; he that 
toucheth one of us, shall touch ail." 
So went he from us, into the Privy Chamber ; and from 
that time never meddled more with me. 

On the marriage day [25th dTuly, I555,at lVinchester],the King 
and the Queen dined in the hall in the Bishop's Palace; 
sitting under the Cloth of Estate, and none else at that table. 
The Nobility sat at the side tables. \Ve were the chief 
servitors, to carry the meat; and the Earl of SUSSEX, our 
Captain, was the Sewer. 
The second course at the marriage of a King is given unto 
the bearers; I mean the meat, but not the dishes, for they 
were of gold. 
It was my chance to carry a great pasty of a red deer in a 
great charger, very delicately baked ; which, for the weight 
thereof, divers refused [i.e., fo carry]. The which pasty I sent 
unto London, to my wife and her brother; who cheered there- 
with many of their friends. 
I will hot take upon me, to write the manner of the mar- 
riage, of the feast, nor of the dancing of the Spaniards, that 
day; who were greatly out of countenance, specially King 
PHILIP dancing with the Queen, when they did see my Lord 
RAY, Master CAREV, and others so far exceed them ; but 
vill leave it unto the learned, as it behoveth him to be, that 
shall write a Story of so great a Triumph. 

Which being ended, their repair was to London. Where, 
shortly after, began the cruel persecution of the Preachers 
and earnest professors and followers of the Gospel; and 
searching of men's houses for their books. \Vherefore I got 
old HENR" DAçNCE, the bricklayer of Whitechapel; who 
used to preach the Gospel in his garden, every holiday, where 
I have seen a thousand people : he did inclose my books in a 
brick wall by the chimney's side in my chamber ; where they 
were preserved fl'om moulding or mice, until the first year 
of our most gracious Queen ELIZABETH, &C. 
Notwithstanding that, I removed from thence, and went 
unto Coventry ; and got me a bouse a mlle out of that city in 
a wood side. But before I removed from the said house Iii, 
Wood Street] in London; I had two children born there, a 



wench [i.e., a girl, his fifth danghtcr, A NNE, born 4th anuary, 
I554], and a boy [his second son, EDWARD, born Ioth Februar.y 
1555]. 
It was a great grief to me, to see so much innocent blood 
shed for the Verity. I vas also threatened by JOHN AVALES 
and BEaID: which I understood by Master LtKE [SI-IEPHERD], 
my very friend, of Coleman Street, physician ; vho was great 
vith some that kept them company, and yet vere honest 
men. Whom I caused to let them understand, that "If they 
did attempt to take me, except they had a warrant signed 
with four or rive of the Council's hands, I would go further 
with them than PETER did, who strake off but the ear of 
MALCHUS; but I vould surely strike off head and all." 
Which was declared unto them ; so that I oftentimes met 
them, but they would not meddle with me. So mightily the 
merciful LORD defended me ; as also from being present at 
that blasphemous Mass, in ail the rime of Queen MaRY. 
q'his LUKE [SHEPHERD] wrote many proper books 
against the Papists, for the which he was imprisoned 
in the Fleet; especially a book called OHN BON and 
toast. Person, who reasoned together of the natural pre- 
ence in the Sacrament [seeih15. IOI-III]. Which book he 
wrote in the rime of King EIWaRI; wherewith the 
Papists were sore grieved, specially SIR JOHN GRESHAM, 
then being Mayor [i.e., October I547-October 1548 ; bu the 
rte dafe of A LLEN'S arres would apear, from p. 87, to bave 
been in 1551 ; when Sir A NDREIV  UDDE ZVaS Lord Mayor]. 
JOHN DAY did print the saine book [? ùt 1551]; vhom 
the Mayor sent for, to know the maker [author] thereof 
saying " He should also go to prison, for printing the 
saine." 
It vas my chance to crme in the saine rime ; for that 
I had found out where [ROBERT] ALLEN the Prophesier, 
had a chamber ; through whom there xvas a bruit in the 
city, that the King was dead : which I declared to the 
Mayor, requiring him to have an Oflïcer to apprehend 
him. 
" Marry," said the Mayor, " I bave received letters to 
rnake search for such this night at midnight." 
He was going unto dinner ; who willed me to take part 
f the same. 



trnderhUI"iROBERTALLEN,' *6s*.3 THE PROPHESIER. 97 

As ,.ve vere at dinner, he said " There was a book put 
forth, called ffOt4N BoN; the maker whereof, he would 
gladly search for." 
" Why so ?" said I, "that book is a good book. I 
bave one of them here, and there are many of them in 
the Court." 
" Have you so ?" said he, " I pray you, let me see it ; 
for I bave hot seen any of them." 
So he took it, and read a little of it, and laughed 
thereat, as it was both pithy and merry. 13y means 
whereof, JoHN Da,, sitting at a sideboard after dinner, 
was bidden [toi go home; who had, else, gone to prison. 
When ve had dined, the Mayor sent two of his 
Officers with me to seek ALLEN ; xvhom ve met vithal 
in Paul's [Church], and took him with us unto his 
chamber; where we round figures set to calculate the 
nativity of the King, and a judgement given of his death ; 
whereof this foolish wretch thought himself so sure, 
that he, and his counsellors the Papists, bruited it ail 
over. 
The King lay at Hampton Court, the saine rime ; and 
my Lord Protector [the Duke of NORTHUtEL.4'O] 
at the Sion [Sion House, near Isleworth]; unto whom 
I carried this ALLEN, vith his books of conjurations, 
calculations, and man 3- things belonging to that devilish 
art : which he affirmed before my Lord, " was a lawful 
science, or the stature 33 Hen. VIII. c. 8.j against 
such was repealed by x Edw. VI. c. 
" Thou foolish knave !" said my Lord, "if thou, and 
ail that be of thy science tell me what I shall do to- 
morrov, I will give thee ail that I have!" Com- 
manding me to carry him unto the Tower : and xvrote a 
letter to Sir Jon MARKHAM, then being Lieutenant, to 
cause him to be examined by such as vere learned. 
Master MARKHAM, as he was both wise and zealous 
in the LORD, talked with him. Unto whom he did 
affirm that " He knew more of the science of Astronomy 
than ail the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge." 
Whereupon he sent for my friend, before spoken of, 
Doctor, RECORDE; who examined him: and he knew 
not the rules of Astronomy ; but "\Vas a very unlearned 
EY. GA. IV. 7 



ass ; and a sorcerer, for the which he was xvorthy hang- 
ing," said Master RECOIDE. 
To have further matters unto [fit rcfcrcncc toi him, we 
sent for "l'lorms ROB¥1s alias MORGaN, commonly called 
Little MoRGat or Toat MORAN (brother unto great ibig] 
MoAN, of Salisbury Court, the great dicer) ; who, when 
I was a companion with him, told me many stories of 
this ALLEN: what a cunning man he was! and what 
things he could do ! as, to make a woman love a man, to 
teach men how to win at the dice, what should become 
of this realm ; [there was nothing, but he knew it ! So 
he had his chambers in divers places of the city, whither 
resorted many women, for things stolen or lost, to know 
their fortunes, and their children's fortunes ; where the 
ruffling roisterer]s and dicers ruade their mdt2ches. 

\Vhen this MORGAN and ALLEN were brought together; 
MORGAN utterly denied that ever he had seen him, or 
known him. 
"Yes," said ALLEY, "3"OU know me ! and I know you 
For he had confessed that, before his coming. 
Upon this, Master Lieutenant stayed Little MORGAN 
also a prisoner in the Tower. 

1 caused also Master GASTON the lavyer not fo be con- 
fottndcd with GASCOIGNE thc Poct, o] Gray's Dut ; who did 
hot mar»y llïdow IRETON till aftcr I3th fftttt, I559_, who 
was also a great dicer, to be apprehended. In whose 
bouse, ALLEN was much; and had a chamber there, 
where many things were practised. 
GAsa-on had an old vife, who was laid under the board 
all night, for dead; and when the women, in the morning, 
came to wind ber, they round that there was life in ber; 
and so recovered her: and she lived about two years 
af ter. 
By the resort of such as came to scek for things 
stolen and lost, which thcy would hide for the nonce, to 
blear their husband's eyes withal, [aftervards] saying, 
"the wise man told them "; of such, GASTOr had choice 
for himself and his friends, young lavyers of the Temple 
[, hot of Gray's Imt]. 



E. Underhill.-] U N D E R III L L ' S D A I L Y P R A Y E R. 
? ,56=.._1 9 9 

Thus became I so despised and odious unto the 
laxvyers, Lords and ladies, gentlemen, merchants, knaves, 
and thieves; that I walked as dangerously as DA,IEL 
amongst the lions. Yet from them ail, the LORD de- 
livered me : notwithstanding their often devices and 
conspiracies by violence to have shed my blood, or with 
sorcery [to have] destroyed me. 
These aforesaid were in the Tower about the space of 
a year; and then by friendship delivered. So 'scapeth 
alwaysthe wicked,and such as GOD commandeth should 
not lire among the people. 
Yea, even noxv in these days also ; so that, methinks, I see 
the ruin of London and this whole realm to be even at hand ; 
for GOD will hot surfer any longer. Love is clean banished. 
No man is sorry for JOSEPH'S hurt. 

ORD! teach me the understanding of Thy com- 
mandments ! that I may apply myself for the keep- 
ing of the saine, as long as I lire! Give me such 
wisdom that I may understand, and so to fulfil the 
thing that Thy law deviseth ! to keep it also with my whole 
heart, that I do nothing against it! Guide me after the true 
understanding of Thy commandments ! for that hath been 
always my special desire. Incline mine heart unto the love 
of Thy statutes, and cause me utterly to abhor covetousness ! 
Tutu mine eyes aside ! lest they be 'tangled with the love of 
most vain things ; but lead me, rather, unto lire through Thy 
warnings ! Set such a Word before Thy servant, as may 
most chiefly further him to worship Thee! Take away the 
shame that I ara afraid of! for Thy judgements are greatly 
mixed with mercy. As for me, verily, I have loved Thy 
eommandments ; wherefore keep me alive according to Thy 
righteousness ! 



IOO SPECIMEN OF IIIS RELIGIOUS VERSE. E E'U"derhitt'? x562. 

Love GOD, above all thinzs ! and thy neighbour as thyself! 
That this is CHRIST's doctrine, no man can it deny, 
Which little is regarded in England's commonwealth, 
Wherefore great plagues at hand be, the realm for to 
destroy. 

Do as thou wonlds! be done mtto.t No place here he can have. 
Of all he is refused. No man will him receive. 
But Private \Vealth, that cursed wretch, and most vile 
slave ! 
Over all, he is embraced ; and fast to him, they cleave. 

He that bath this wo4d's goods, and secth his nci.hbom" lack ; 
And of him bath o compassion, nor sheweth him no lovc, 
Nor rclicvcth his ncccssity, but suffcrs him. fo go to wrack ; 
GOD dwclleth hot in that man, the Scriptures plainly prove. 

Example we have by DIVES, that daintily did fare, 
In worldly wealth and riches therein he did excel ; 
Of poor LAz.*,Rus's misery he had thereof no care : 
Therefore was suddenly taken, and tormented in hell. 

I DWA RD U N DE RH ILL. 



on on an 

Picur« of a 
trocession of Priests 
bcaring the Host. 



[This attacl on the lIass, written by I)octor LUKE SHEPHERD, one of 
the very earliest productions of the press of the celebrated Elizabethan 
printer JOHN DA,', was apparently printed in I551 ; and is reprinted 
here from the t«rcy çoci«ty's text, on account of UNDERHILL'S gtor 
respectin, it at#. 96.] 



Io3 

What, JotN BoN ! Good morroxv to thec ! 
0t3n ?.5 n. 
Now, good morrov, mast[er] Parson, so mur I thoe ! 
V,'hat meanest thou, JOHN  tobe at vork so soon ? 
on. 
The sooner I bcgin, the sooner shall I have done, 
For I 'tend to work no longer than none. 
MarD', Jo, for that, GOD's blessing on thy hcart  
For, surcly, some therc be, will go to plough and cart ; 
And set not by, this holy Corpus Christi cven. 
They are he more o bl.am» I swear b E Sain Scphcn  
But ell me, maser Parson, one hing, and you can; 
Wha aint is Cops Cursy, a man, or a woman ? 



lO4 TIIE INTERLUDE OF 
at'.on. 
Why, JoN ! knowest not that ? I tell thee, it was a man. 
It is CnxsT His own self, and to-morrow is His day. 
We bear Him in proeession, and thereby know it ye may. 
I know 
But methink it is a mad thing that ye say, 
That it should be a man. How can it corne fo pass? 
ecause ye may Him bear within so small a glass. 
Vhy, neighbour JOHN, and art thou now there ? 
Now I may perceive ye love this new gear. 
God's forbodl master l I should be of that faction. 
I question why, your masship, in way of cumlication. 
A plain man, ye may see, will speak as cometh to mind: 
Ye must hold us excused, for ploughmen be but blind. 
I am an eld fellow, of fifter winter and more, 
And yet, in all my life, I knew not this before. 
No did 
Thou hast ever known the sacrament to be the body of 
CnRIS 
Yea, sir, ye say true  Ail that, I know indeed ; 
And yet, as I remember, itis not in my Crccd 
But as for Cropsy Cursty to be a man or no, 
I knew not till this day, by the way my soul shall to 
XVhy, foolish fellow ] I tell thee it is sol 
For it was so determined by the Church long ago 
It is both the sacrament and very CnRts himself. 



No spleaser, mast[er] Parson! Then make ye CHIIST an elf; 
And the maddest made man, that ever body saw ! 

dl.'011. 
What ! peace, mad man ! Thou speakest like a daw ! 
It is not possible his manhood for to see. 

XVhy, sir; ye tell me it is even very He: 
And if it be hOt His manhood, His godhead it must l:e. 

I tell thee, none of both ! 
mad ? 

fll.'01|. 
What meanest thou ? Art thou 

No, neither made nor drunk; but to learn I ara glad: 
But to displease your masship, I would be very loath, 
Ye grant me here plainly, that it is none of both, 
Then it is but a cake : but I pray ye, be hot wroth ! 

Wroth, quoth ha[ By the mass[ (thou makest me swear 
an oath), 
I had leaver vith a Doctor of Divinity to reason, 
Than with a stubble cur, that eateth beans and peason. 
on. 
I cry ye mercy, toast[er] Parson ! Patience for a season ! 
In all this cumlication is neither felony nor treason. 

targ0n. 
No, by the mass ! But hearest thou ! It is plain heresy. 



I ara lad it chanced so, there was no witness by ; 
And if there had, I cared not; for ye spake as ill as I. 
I speak but as I heard you say, I wot not what ye thought. 
Ye said " It was not God, nor man," and ruade it worse than 
nought. 
ar0n. 
I mcant hot so. Thou tookest me xvrong! 

A, sir ! Ye sing another song ! 
I date not reason with you long'. 
I see well, now, ye have a knack 
To say a thing, and then go back. 

dt'fl;011. 
No, JoIi,x ! I xvas but a little overseen : 
But thou meantest hOt good faith, I ween, 
In all this talk that was us between. 

I ! No, trow, it shall not so been 
That JolJN Boy shall an heretic be called, 
Then might he lay him so foui befald. 

dt'0ll. 
But, now, if thou wilt mark me well ! 
From beginning to ending, I will thee tell 
Of the godly service that shall be to-morrow ; 
That, ere I have done, no doubt, thou wilt sorrosv 
To hear that such things should be foredone. 
And yet, in many places, they bave begun 
To take axvay the old, and set up nesv. 
]3elieve me, JolaN ! this tale is true. 



Luke Shepherd, II.D.-] 
Go to, master] Parson  Say on, and well to thrive  
Ye be the jolliest gemman [gcntlcman] that ever saw in my 
lire. 
We shall first bave Marins. Is it not a godly bearing ? 
Fie yes. Methink 'tis a shameful gay cheering, 
For oftentimes, on my prayers, when I take no great keep, 
Ye sing so arrantly well, ye make me fall asleep  
av0n. 
Then have ve Procession, and CHrisT about we bear. 
30bn. 
That is a poison holy thing,-for GOD Himself is there. 
Then come we in, and ready us dress, 
Full solemnly to go to Mess. 
Is hOt here a mischievous thing 
The Mess is vengeance holy, for ail their saying 
, 
Then say we Confiteor and Miseriatur. 
Jeze LORD  'ris abominable mattcr  
arZ0n. 
And then we stand up to the altar. 
This gear is as goo as Out L@'s Psler. 



,oS T,,: INTELUDE OF OII.V "OO'VL l'a'«he*d'lt'l)- 
at'0n. 
And so go forth with the other deal 
Till we have read the Pistcl and Gosel. 
That is good, mast[er Parson, I know right well. 
ar0n. 
Is that good Vhy, what say'st thou to the other ? 
Marry[ horribly good [ I say none other. 
So is ail the Mess, I date avow this, 
As good in every point as Pistd or Gospd is. 
00n. 
The foul evil it is  Who would think so much ? 
In faith, I ev thought that it had been no such. 
ar0n. 
Then have we the Cattott, that is holiest. 
019n. 
A spiteful gay thing, of ail that ever I wist. 
" ar0n. 
Then have we the Mcmcnto, even before the sacring. 
Ye are morenly well learned  I 8ee by your reck'ning 
That ye will not forger such an elvish thing. 
ar0n. 
And after that, we consecrate Very God and Man  
And turn the bread to flesh, with rive words we can. 



3on. 
The devil ye do ! I trow this is pestilence business [ 
Ye are much bound to GOD for such a spittle holiness [ 
A gallows gay gift ! With rive words alone, 
To make both God and Man ; and yet we sec none [ 
Ye talk so unreasonably vell, it maketh my heart yearn, 
As eld a fellow as I ara, I sec well I may learn. 
dr0n. 
Yea, Jon and then, with vords holy and good, 
Even, by and by, ve turn the wine to blood. 
Lo Willyese? Lo vhovouldhavethought it? 
That ye could so soon from vine to blood ha brought it 
And yet, except your mouth be better tasted than mine, 
I cannot feel it other but that it should be wine. 
And yet I wot ne'er a cause there may be, vhy 
Perchance, ye ha drunk blood oftner than ever did I. 
Truly, Jonc, it is blood, though it be vine in faste. 
As soon as the word is spoke, the wine is gone and çast 
A sessions on if  for me. My wits are me benumme : 
For I cannot study where the wine should become ? 
Study, quoth ha  Beware, and let such matter go  
To meddle much with this, may bring ye soon to woe. 
Yea, but, MaStcr PRrsoN  thiNk ye it were right, 
That, if I Oesired Xou to MRke M X black ox white ; 
And you say, " Itis done  " and still is black iN ight ; 
Ye Might Me deeM a fool, for to believe so light ? 

IC9 



I IO TIIE INTEILUDE OF .ïOII,V ./O«'rI-LukeShv epherd'M'D- 
 x55x. 

I marvel much, ye will reason so far I 
I fear if ye use it, it will ye mar! 
301jn. 
No, no, sir! I trust of.that I shall be 'xvare, 
I pray you, with your matter again forth to fare ! 
tar0n. 
.\nd then xve go forth, and Cnsr's body receive ; 
Even the very saine that Mav did conceive. 
The devil it i ! Ye bave a great grace 
To eat GOD and Man in so short d space. 
ar0n. 
And so we makc an end, as it lieth in an order. 
lut noxv the blessed Mess is hated in every border, 
And railed on, and reviled, xvith xvords most blasphemous: 
lut I trust it will be better with the help of Catechismus. 
For though it came forth but even that other day, 
Yet hath it turned many to their old way: 
And where they hated 3Icssc, and had it in disdain, 
"l'here have they Messe and 3latins in Latin tongue again. 
Ye , even in London self, Jons, I tell the truth 
"l'ey bc full glad and mer T to hear of this, GOD knoweth  
By my troth ! master] Parson, I like full well your talk  
ut mass me no more ncssingsl The right way xvill I walk. 
For, though I have no learning, yet I know cheese from 
chalk, 
And each can perceive your juggling, as crafty as ye xvalk  
lut leave your devilish Mass, and the Commmffon to you take ! 
And then xvill Csç be xvith you; even for His promise 
sake [ 



Luke Shepherd, M.D.'] 
aron. 
What, art thou such a one. and kept it so close 
Vell, all is not gold, that hath a fair gloss, 
But, farevell, Jo. Bo ! GOD bring thee in better mind 
OEoln. 
I thank you, sir for that you seem very kind 
But pray not so for me [or I ara vell enough. 
Whistle, boy ! drivë forth ! GOD speed us and the plough 
Ha  browne done  forth, that horson crab 
Reecomomyne, garled  with haight, black hab 
Have a gain, bald before ! hayght ree who ! 
Cherrily, boy, corne off that homevard we may go. 

 OEmprintcl at 0nl0n, bp OE01)n ap, anl 

CUM GRA TIA ET PRIVILEGIO .ID 
IMPRIMEND U3I SOL UM. 



j o i N F o x, the Martyrologist. 
ŒEhe Imtrisomnent of tloe Prizcess 
.E Z IZA 27 2 TI-I. 

[Actes ami M'onumentes, 3_'c.,#. XTXO. ,6'dl x563.] 
hsT, therefore, to begin with her princely birth, 
being born af Greenwich, amto 1534, of the famous 
and victorious Prince, King Hwxr,," VIII., and of 
the noble and most virtuous Lady, Queen 
her mother ; sufficiently is committed to the story 
before. Also of the solemn celebration of her baptism in the 
said town, and Grey Friar's Church, of Greenwich ; having 
to her godfather, THOW,s Cl.«y.tEI, Archbishop of Canter- 
burv. 
,fter that, she was eommitted to godly tutors and gover- 
nors. Under whose institution her Grace dicl so greatly 
increase, or rather excel in all manner of virtue and know- 
ledge of learning, that I stand in a doubt whether is more to 
be commended in this behalf, the studious diligence of them 
that brought her up, or the singular towardness of ber own 
princely nature to all virtuous disposition; so apt and so 
inclinable : both being notwithstanding the gifts of GOD, for 
which sve are all bound to give Him thanks. \Vhat tongue 
is it that Her Grace knoweth hot ? What language she 
cannot speak ? What liberal art or science, she hath hOt 
learned ? And what virtue wherewith her noble breast is not 
garnished ? In counsel and wisdom, what Councillor will go 
beyond Her Majesty ? 
If the goodness of nature, joinecl with the industry of Her 
Grace's institution, had hot been in ber marvellous, how 
many things vere there, besides the natural infirmity of that 
sex, the tenderness of youth, the nobility of estate, allure- 
ments of the worlcl, persuasions of flatterers, abundance of 
svealth and pleasures, examples of the Court, enough to carry 



J. Fo.-I THE IRINCESS'S MAIDENLX T MODESTY. 11.3 
z 563. _1 

her Grace axvay after the common fasbion and rule of many 
other Ladies, from gravity to ligbtness, from study to ease, 
from wisdom to vanity, from religion to superstition, from 
godliness to gawishness, to be pricked up with pride, to be 
garish in apparel, to be tierce in condition ? 
Eloquently is it spoken, and discreetly meant of TULLY, 
the eloquent orator: " To live," saîth he, "a good man in 
other places, is no great marrer : but in Asia, to keep a sober 
and temperate life, that is a matter indeed praiseworthy ! " So 
here, why may I not affirm without flattery, that [which] 
every man's conscience can testify? In that age, that sex, 
in such State and fortune, in so great occasions, so many 
incitements : in all these, to retain so sober conversation, so 
temperate condition, such mildness of manners, sucb humble- 
ness of stomach, such clemency in forgiving, such travailing 
in study: briefly, in the midst of Asia, so far to degenerate 
from ail Asia; it hath hOt 1.ightly been seen in Europe! 
Hitherto, it bath been seen in very few. Whereby it may 
appear hot only what education, or what Nature may do ; but 
what GOD, above Nature, bath wrought in ber noble breast, 
adorning it with so worthy virtues. 
Of which ber princely qualities and virtuous disposition, 
such as have been conversant with her youth can better 
testify. That which I bave seen and read, I trust I may 
boldly repeat without suspicion either of feigning or flattery. 
For so I have read, written, and testified of Her Grace by 
according to] one, both learned and also that can say some- 
thing in this marrer. \Vho in a certain book, by him set 
forth, entreating of Her Grace's virtuous bringing up, what 
discreet, sober, and godly women she had about ber; 
speaketh, namely, of two points in Her Grace to be con- 
sidered. One concerning ber rnoderate and maidenly be- 
haviour ; the other one concerning her training up in learning 
and good letters. Declaring, first, for ber virtuous rnodera- 
tion of life, that seven years after ber fatber's death [i.e. in 
I553], she had no little pride of stomach, so little delight in 
glistering gazes of the world, in gay apparel, rich attire, and 
precious jewels, that in all that time Il.e., throz.gh ber brother 
EZ)WARD'S reign] she never looked upon those, that ber father 
ieff ber (and which other Ladies commonly be so fond upon) 
but only once; and that against her will. And, rnoreover, 
',VG. G.4EE., IV. 8 



[-.L Fox 
I I 4 GENERAL ADMIRATION OF TIIE PRINCESS. t_ ,s6» 

after that, so little gloried in the same, that there came 
neither gold nor store upon her head, till her sister enforced 
her to lay off her former soberness, and bear her company in 
her glistening gains: yea, and then, she so ware it, as every 
man might see that her body bare that which ber heart 
misliked. Wherein the virtuous prudence of this Princess, 
hot reading but following the words of PAUL and PETER, 
well considered True Nobility to consist hot in circumstances 
of the body, but in substance of the heart ; hot in such things 
which deck thc body, but in that which dignifieth the mind, 
shining and blazing more bright than pearl or stone, be it 
never so precious. 
Again, the said author, further proceeding in the saine 
matter, thus testifieth, that he knew a great man's daughter 
receiving from the Lady M^Rv, before she xvas Queen, goodly 
apparel of tinsel, cloth of gold and velvet, laid on with 
parchment lace of gold. When she saw it she said, " What 
shall I do with it ? " 
" Marry ! " said a gentlewoman, "wear it ! " 
" Nay!" quoth she, " tbat vere a shame ! To follow my 
Lady M^rY, against GOD's Word; and leave my Lady 
ELIZ^BETH, which followeth GOD's Word." 
Let noble Ladies and gentlewomen here learn either to 
give, or to take good example given : and if they disdain to 
teach their inferiors, in well doing; yet, let it hot shame 
them, to learn of their betters. 
Likewise also at the coming in of the Scottish Queen [in 
I553], when ail the other Ladies of the Court flourished in 
their bravery, with their hair frounced and curled, and double 
curled; yet sbe altered nothing; but to the shame of them 
ail, kept her old maidenly shamefastness. 
Let us now come to the second point, declaring how she 
hath been trained in learning; and that not vulgar and 
common, but the purest and the best, which is most com- 
mended at these days, as the Tongues, Arts, and GOD's 
Word. Wherein she so exceedingly profited, as the foresaid 
author doth witness, that being under tventy years of age 
[i.e., beforc I554J, she was not, in the best kind of learning, 
inferior to those that all their lire time had been brought up 
in the Univergities, and were counted jolly fellows. 
And that you may understand that there hath not been, 



j. Vo,.7 TESTttON¥ OF AYLtER AND CASTIGLIONE. I 5 
563.J 

nor is in her, learning only xvithout nature, and knoxvledge 
without towardness to practice; I will tell what hath been 
heard of ber first schoolmaster [JoaN AVLIER], a man ve 
honest and learned : who reported of ber, to a friend of bi.s. that 
"He learned every day more of her, than she of him." Which 
when it seemed to him a mystery, as indeed it was, and he 
therefore desired to know his meaning therein, he thus 
expounded it : " I teach her words," quoth he, " and she, me 
things. I teach ber the tongues to speak ; and hec modestly 
and maidenly lire teacheth me xvords to do. For," saith he, 
"I think she is the best inclined and disposed of any in ail 
Europe." 
It seemed to me a goodly commendation of ber, and a 
witty saying f him. 
Likewis'e [CASTIGLIONE] an Italian, which taught ber his 
tongue (although that nation lightly praise hot out of their 
own country), said once to the said party, that " He round in 
ber two qualifies, which are never lightly yokefellows in one 
woman; which were a singular wit, and a marvellous meek 
stomach." 
If rime and leisure would serve to peruse ber whole lire 
past, many other excellent and memorable examples of her 
princely qualities and singular virtues might here be noted ; 
but none, in my mind, more worthy of commendation, or that 
shall set forth the faine of ber heroical and princely renown 
more to ail posterity, than the Christian patience, and incre- 
dible clemency of ber nature showed in ber afflictions, and 
towards ber declared enemies. Such was then the wicked- 
ness and rage of that rime, wherein what dangers and 
troubles were among the inferior subjects of this realm of 
England, may be easily gathered when such a Princess, of 
that Estate, being a King's daughter, a Queen's sister, and 
Heir Apparent to the Crown, could hot escape without ber 
CFOSS. 
And therefore, as we have hitherto discoursed [of] the afflic- 
tions and persecutions of the other poor members of CIRts', 
comprehended in this History before ; so likewise, I see no 
cause xvhy the communion of Her Grace's afflictions also, 
among the other saints of CIRIST, ought to be suppressed in 
silence : especially seeing the great and marvellous workings or 
GOD's glory, chiefly in this Story, appeareth above ail the test. 



[.l. Fox. 
Il6 EDWARD VI.'sLOVE FOR FLIZABETII. t_ *s6». 

And though I should, throulh ingratitude or silence, pass 
over the saine ; )et the thirg itself is so manifest, that what 
Englishman is he xvhich knoweth not the afflictions of Her 
Grace to have been far above the condition of a King's 
daughter: for there was ro more behird, to rnake a very 
[PHIGEtqIA Of her, but ber offerirg up upon the altar of the 
scaffold. 
In which her storrns and tempests, with vhat patience 
Her Highness behaved herself, although it be best krown to 
them who, then being her adversaries, had the minding 
[,risoning] of her. Yet this will I say, by the way, that then 
she must needs be in her affliction, marvellous patient : which 
sheweth herself now, in this prosperity, to be utterly without 
desire of reveng, e ; or else she wou]d have given some token, 
ere this day, of remembrance, how she was handled. 
It was no srnall injury that she suffered, in the Lord Pro- 
tector's days, by certain venomous vipers ! But to let that 
pass ! was it no wrong, thirk )ou ! or small injury that she 
sustained, after the death of King Er)wARr), when they sought 
to defeat her and her sister from their natural inheritance 
and right to the Crown ? 
But to let that pass likewise ! and to corne more near to 
the late days of her sister, Queen M..R'. Into what fear, 
xvhat trouble of mind, and what danger of death was she 
brought ? 
First, with great solemnity, with bands of harnessed men 
,i.e., in arms atd armour] (Happy was he that rnight have 
the carrying of her !) to be fetched up, as the greatest traitor 
in the world ; clapped in the Tower : and, again, to be tossed 
ff'oto thence, from prison to prison, ff'oto post to pi]lar. At 
length, also prisoner in her own bouse ; and guarded with a 
sort [umbcr] of cutthroats, which ever gaped for the spoil of 
the saine, that they might have been fingering of somewhat. 
Which Story, if I should set forth at large, through all the 
particulars and circumstances of the saine, and as the just oc- 
casion of the history requireth ; peradventure, it would move 
offence to some, being yet alive. Yet notwithstanding, I 
intend, by the grace of CHRIST, therein to use such brevity 
and moderation as may be to the glory of GOD, the discharge 
of the Story, the profit of the reader, and hurt to none: sup- 
pressing the names of some, vhom bere, although I could 



J. Fox.] SHE IS ARRESTED A'Y /kSIIRIDGE II 7 
56../ ° 

recite, yet I thought not to be more cruel in hurting their 
name, than the Queen hath been in pardoning their lire. 
Therefore, now to enter into the description of the matter. 
First, to declare her undeserved troubles; and then, the 
most happy deliverance out of the same, this is the Story. 

N THE beginning of Queen MARY'S reign, mention 
is made belote, how the Lady ELIZABETH, and the 
Lord COURTNEY were charged wit,h false suspicion 
of [being being concerned in] Sir "1 I4Ol,xs \VYATT'S 
rising lin anuary, 1554, see p. 88]. 
Whereupon, Queen 5IARY, whether for that surmise, or for 
what othercause I know not, being offended with the said Lady 
ELIZABETH her sister, at that time.lying in her house at Ash- 
ridge [near Great Berkhampstead], sent to her two Lords [or 
rather ]lZlLLIAM, Lord HOIVARD, Sir EDWARD HA8TIN6S, 
aftcrwards Lord HASTINGS of Loughborough; and Sir 
THO3tAS CORN|VALLIS], and Sir JoI4N WILLIAMS, after- 
wards Lord [_\VILLIAMS] of Thame, with their retinue, and 
troop of horsemen, to the number of 250, who at their sudden 
and unprovided [unexpected] coming [on the tk Fcbruary, 554 ] , 
found her at the saine time, sore sick in bed, and very feeble 
and weak of body. 
V, rhither, when they came; ascending up to Her Grace's 
Privy Chamber, willed there, one of her Ladies whom they 
met, to declare unto Her Grace that " There were certain 
Lords corne from the Court, which had a message from the 
ueen." 
Her Grace having knowledge thereof, was right glad of 
their coming: howbeit, being then very sick, and the night 
far spent, which was at ten of the cl6ck, requested them by 
the messenger, that they would resort thither in the morning. 
To this, they answered, and by the said messenger sent 
word again, that "They must needs see her; and would do 
so, in what case soever she were in." \Vhereat, the Lady 
being aghast, went to shew Her Grace their words ; but they 
hastily following her, came rushing as soon as she, into Her 
Grace's chamber, unbidden. 
At whose so sudden coming into her bedchamber, Her 
Grace being hot a little amazed, said unto them, " My Lords ! 



II8 BROUGHT IN A LITTER TO LONDON.[ 
x563. 

is the haste such, that it might hot have pleased you tocome 
to-morrow, in the morning ? " 
They ruade answer, that " They were right sorry to sec Her 
Grace in that case." 
" And I," quoth she, "ara hot glad to sec you here, at this 
time of the night !" 
\Vhereunto, they answered that "They came flore the 
Queen fo do their message and duty; which was to this 
effect, that the Queen's pleasure was that she should be at 
London, the 7th [? i2th] day of that prescrit month." 
Whereunto, she said, " My Lords ! no creature [can bel 
more glad than I, to corne to Her Majesty ; being right sorry 
that I ara hOt in case at this rime, like to wait on her; as 
you yourselves, my Lords ! do see and can well testify ! " 
" Indeed, we sec it truc," quoth they, "that you do say; 
for which we are very sorry : albeit we let you to understand 
that out Commission is such, and so straineth us, that we 
must needs bring you with us, either quick or dead." 
Whereat she being amazed, sorrowfully said that " Their 
commission was very sore! but )-et, notwithstanding, she 
hoped it to be otherwise, and hOt so straight." 
"Yes, verily !" they answered. 
Whereupon the Lords calling for two physicians, Doctor 
Own and Doctor \VENDIF, demanded of them, " \Vhether 
she might be removed rioto thence, xvith lire or hot ? " whose 
answer and judgement was this, "That there xvas no impedi- 
men to their judgement to the contrary ; but that she might 
travel without danger of lire." 
In conclusion, they xvilled her to prepare against the 
morning, at nine of the clock, to go with them, declaring 
that " they had brought with them, the Queen's litter for 
lier." 
After much talk, the Lords declaring how there was no 
prolonging of times and days, so departed to their chamber; 
being entertained and cheered as appertained to their 
Honours. 
On the next morroxv [x2th February], at the time pre- 
scribed, they had ber forth as she was, ver)" faint and feeble; 
and in such case as she was ready to swoon three or four 
rimes between them. What should I speak here that [which] 
cannot well be expressed ! \Yhat a heavy bouse there was 



j. rox.-] SHUT UP AT THE COURT It 9 
1563. j 

to behold the unreverent and doleful dealing of the Lords ; 
but especially the careful fear and captivity of their innocent 
Lady and mistress. 
Now to proceed in their journey. From Ashridge, all sick 
in the litter, she came to Redborne ; where she was guarded 
ail night. 
From thence, to St. Albans, to Sir RALPH ROWLET'S 
house; where she tarried that night ail heavy, both feeble in 
body, and comfortless in mind. 
From that place, they passed to Master DODD'S house, at 
Mimms [near Potters' Bar]; where they also remained that 
night. 
And so from thence, she came to Highgate: where she, 
being very sick, tarried that night and the next day : during 
which time of her abode, there came many pursuivants and 
messengers from the Court unto the Lords; but what about, 
I cannot tell. 
From tbat place, she was conveyed to the Court; where 
by the vay came to meet ber, many gentlemen to accompany 
Her Highness, which were very sorry to see her in that case : 
but especially a great multitude of people that were standing 
by the way; who then flocking about her litter, lamented 
and greatly bewailed ber estate. 

Now when she came to the Court, Her Grace was there 
straightways shut up, and kept as close prison_r for a 
fortnight, seeing neither Queen, nor Lord, nor friend at that 
time ; but only tben, the Lord Chamberlain, Sir JOHN GAGE, 
and the Vice-Chamberlain, which xvere attendant upon the 
doors. 
About which time, Sir ,VILLIAM ST. Lo was called before 
the Council; to whose charge was laid, that he knew of 
\VYATT'S rebellion : which he stoutly denied, protesting that 
he was a true man, both to God and lais Prince, defying all 
traitors and rebels. I3ut being straitly examined, was, in 
conclusion, committed to the Tower. 
The Friday before Paire Sunday [I6th Match], [STEPHEN 
QARDINER] the I3ishop of \¥INCHESTER, with nineteen others 
of the Council (who shall be bere nameless, as I have 
promised) came unto Her Grace, from the Queen's Majesty ; 
and burdened [accused] ber with \V'ATT's conspiracy : which 



I O E x A M I N E D Bi" T H E C o u N C I L. [j. 1%.63. 

she utterly denied, affirming that " she was altogether guilt- 
less therein." 
They being not eontented with this, charged Her Grace 
xvith the business ruade by Sir PETER CaREW and the rest of 
the Gentlemen of the West Country ; which she also utterly 
denying, cleared ber innocency therein. 
In conclusion, after long debating of matters, they declared 
unto ber, that " It was the Queen's will and pleasure that she 
should go unto the Tower, xvhile the matter were further 
tried and examined." 
Whereat, she being aghast, said that "She trusted the 
Queen's Majesty xvouid be a more gracious Lady unto her; 
and that Her Highness xvould hot otherwise conceive of her, 
but that she ,,vas a truc voman." Declaring furthermore to 
the Lords, that " She was innocent in ail those matters, 
wherein they had burdened her, and desired them therefore 
fo be a further mean fo the Queen her sister, that she, being 
a true woman in thought, word, and deed, toxvards Her 
Majesty, might hot be committed to so notorious and doleful 
a place": protesting that she would request no mercy at 
her hand, if she should be proved to have consented unto 
any such kind of matter as they laid unto her charge. And 
therefore, in fine, desired their Lordships to think of her what 
she was; and that she might hot so extremely be dealt 
xvithal for her truth. 
Whereunto, the Lords answered that " There was no 
remedy. For that the Queen's Majesty was fuily determined 
that she should go unto the Toxver" ; wherewith the Lords 
departed, with their caps hanging over their eyes [this was 
a purposed sign of disrcspect]. 
But hOt long after, within the space of an hour or a little 
more, came four of the foresaid Lords of the Council, vith 
the Guard, who varding the next chamber to ber, secluded 
all her Gentlemen and yeomen, Ladies and gentlewomen ; 
saving that for one Gentleman Usher, three Gentlewomet, 
and tvo Grooms of her Chamber, vere appointed in their 
rooms, three other men, and three waiting women of the 
Queen's, to give attendance upon ber ; that none should bave 
access to her Grace. 
At vhich rime, there were a hundred of Northern soldiers, 
in white coats, watching and varding about the gardens all 



JF°x'7 ORDERED TO BE SENT TO TIlE TOWER. 19I 
 563.J - 

that night : a great tire being made in the midst of the Hall; 
and tvo certain Lords watching there also with their Band 
and company. 

Upon Saturday. being Palm Sunday Eve [I7th March], two 
certain Lords of the Council, whose names here also we do 
omit [but who wcre the Marquis of ||'INCHESTER and the Earl 
of SUSSEX], came and certified Her Grace that "forthwith 
she must go unto the Tower[ the barge being prepared for 
her, and the ride now ready, which tarrieth for nobody." 
In heavy mood, Her Grace requested the Lords, that " She 
might.tarry another tide; " trusting that the next would be 
more joyous and better [bccause in the dal' rime]. 
But one of the Lords [i.e., \VINCHI';STER] replied that 
" Neither ride nor rime was to be delayed ] " 
And when Her Grace requested him, that she might be 
suflered to write to the Queen's Majesty, he answered that 
"He durst hot permit that;" adding that, "in his judge- 
ment it would rather hurt than profit Her Grace in so doing." 
But the other Lord, who was the Earl of St;SSEX, more 
courteous and favourable, kneeling down, told Her Grace 
that " She should have liberty to write, and, as he was a true 
man, he would deliver it to the Queen's Highness; and 
bring an answer of the saine, whatsoever came thereof." 
\Vhereupon she xvrote; albeit she could not, nor might 
hOt speak with ber; to ber great discomfort, being no offender 
against Her Majesty. 
[ ]']te aclual leller wrillt'n by tke l'rincess, at this momenl, is in lhe Slate 
Paer QTce. Domestic, Mav, Vol. IV. No. 2. 
The Lad)" ELZABETH to the Queen. 
If any ever did try this old saying, that .4 Kt'ttc?s zvordzvas t;tore lit,tri 
anolker man's oalh, I most humbly beseech lrour Majesty to verify it in 
me ; and to remember ¥our last promise, and mv last demand, that " I be 
hot condemned without answe rand due proof," which it seems that I now 
ana: for, without cause proved, I ara, by your Council, trom you, com- 
n,anded to go to the Tover. a place more wonted for a false traitor than a 
truc subject, which, though I know I desire it hOt, yet, in the face of ail 
this reahn, [it] appears roved. While I pray to GOD I may die the 
shamefullest death that ever anv died aIore, if I may mean any such thing ! 
and to this present hour I protest before GOD (who shall judge my truth, 
whatsoever malice shall devise), that I never practised, counselled, nor 
consented to anything that might be prejudicial to your person any way, 
or dangerous to the State by any means. And therefore, I humbly be- 



['J. F.,x. 
122 HEX PASSIONATE, TOUCItlNG LETTER. L ,56» 

szech your Majesty to let me answer afore yourseif and hOt surfer me to 
trust to your Councillors ; yea, and tbat afore I go to the Tover, if it be 
Imssible, if hot, before 1 be filrther condemned. Howbeit, I trust assuredly 
your Highness will give me leave to doit, afore 1 go; that thus shamefully, 
1 may not be cried ot»t on, as I nov shall be : yea, and witbout cause ! 
Let conscience mve vour Highness to take some better way with me 
than to make me be condemned in ail men's sight afore my desert known ! 
Also I most humbly besêech your Highness to pardon this my boldness, 
which innocency procures me to do; togetber with hope of your natural 
kindness which 1 trust will hOt see lne cast away, vithout desert : which 
what it is, I would desire no more of GOD but that you truly knew; but 
which thing, I think and believe )'ou shall never by report know ; unless 
by yourself you hear. 
I have heard of many, in my time, cast away for vant of coming to 
the presence of their Prince; and, in late days, I heard my Lord of 
.'qOMERSET say that " If his brother [TI«e .4dmh'al Lord THO.ILqS 
.S'z.:'zOU] had been suflbred to speak witb him, he had never suffered ; 
but persuasions were made to him so great that he was brought in belief 
that he could not lire safely if the Admiral lived, and that lnade him give 
consent to bis death." Though these persons are hOt to be compared to 
your Majesty ; yet, I pray GOD, as evil persuasions persuade hOt one 
sistcr against the other ! and all for that they have heard false report, and 
hot hearken to the truth hOt known. 
Tberefore, once again, kneeling with humbleness of heart, because I 
ara hOt sutïered to bow the knees of my body ; I humbly crave to speak 
with your Highness : which 1 would not be so bold as to desire, if I knew 
not myself most clear, as I know myself most true. 
And as for the traitor ,VYATT he might peradventure, write me a letter ; 
but, on my faith, I never received any from him. And as for the copy of 
the letter sent to the French King. I pray GOD mayconfound me eternally 
il ever I sent him word, message, token, or letter, by any means ! And to 
this truth, I will stand in to my death. 
Your Highness's most faithful subject, that hath been from the begin- 
ning, and will be to my end, E L I Z A B ET H. 
1 bumbly crave but only one word of answer from yourself.] 
And thus the tide [scason] and time passed away for that 
rime, till the next da)', being Palm Sunday, when, about nine 
of the clock, these txvo came again, declaring that " it was 
rime for Her Grace to depart." 
She answered, " If there be no remedy, I must be con- 
tented ; " willing the Lords to go on before. 
And being corne forth into the garden, she did cast up ber 
eyes toxvards the windmv ; thinking to have seen the Queen, 
which she could hot. \Vhereat she said, " She marvelled 
much, what the Nobility of the realm meant ; which, in that 
sort, would surfer ber to be led forth into captivity, the 
LORD knexv whither! for she did hot." 



J" F°x'l I S S Il U T U P I N T I[ E T 0 w E R I "3 
,563.3 • - 

After all this, she took her bal'ge, vith the two aforesaid 
Lords, three ofthe Queen's Gentlewomen,and three of ber own, 
her Gentleman Usher, and two of her Grooms: lying and 
hovering upon the water, an hour; fol- that they could hOt sho:,t 
the Bridge [the ride tsed to rush thrott,h lhe mrrow spa«e of 
old London brid,,c, with the force of a mill-racc]_ : the bargemen 
being very unvilling to shoot the saine so soon as they did, 
because of the danger thereof. For the stern of the boat 
struck upon the ground, the rail was so big, and the water 
was so shallow. 
Then Her Grace desired of the Lords, that " She might 
hot land at the stairs vhere all traitors and offerlders 
customably used to land " [callcd the Traitor's GatcJ. 
They answered that " it was past tbeir remedy; for that 
otherwise they had in commandment." 
"Well," said she, "if it be so, my Lords ! I must needs 
obey it: protesting before ail your Honours, that here nov 
steppeth as truc a subject as ever was, tovards the Queen's 
Highness. And before thee, 0 GOD! I speak it; having 
none other friends, but only Thee !" 
The Lords declared unto her that "there was no rime then 
to try the truth." 
" You have said well, my Lords!" quoth she, "I ana 
sorry that I bave troubled you ! " 
So then they passed on [i.e., through the Trat'tor's Gatc], and 
went into the Tower: where were a great company of har- 
nessed men, and armed soldiers warding on both sides: 
whereat she being amazed, called the Lords to her, and 
demanded " the cause, why those poor men stood there ? " 
They declared unto ber, that " it was the use and order of 
the place so to do." 
" And if it be," quoth she, " for my cause ; I beseech you 
that they ma3 be dismissed." 
\¥hereat, the poor men kneeled down, and with one voice, 
desired GOD to preserve Her Grace; vho, the next day, 
vere released of their cold coats. 
After this, passing a little further, she sat doxvn upon a 
cold stone, and there rested herself. 
To xvhom, the Lieutenant [Lord CtlANDOS, sec p. 7 8] thela 
bei.qg, said, "Madam, )'ou vere best to corne out of the rainl 
for you sit unwholesomely." 



I2 4 LORD SUSSEX, AGAIN ItER FRIEND. [J. Fox.,563. 

She then replying, answered aain, " Better sitting here, 
than in a worse place! For, GOD knoweth! I kllGW not 
whither vou will bring me [ " 
\\'ith [hat, ber Gentleman Usher wept. She demanded of 
him, " What he meant so uncomfortably to use her, seeing 
she took him to be her comforter, and not her dismayer: 
especially for that she knew her truth to be such, that no 
man should have cause to weep for her." But forth she 
went into the prison. 
The doors were locked and bolted upon her; which did 
hot a little discomfort and dismay Her Grace. At what 
rime, she called to ber gentlewoman for her book Il.e., hcr 
Bible], desiring GOD, "Not to surfer her to build her 
tbundation upon the sands, but upon the rocks ! whereby ail 
blasts of blustering weather should bave no power against 
her." 
After the doors were thus locked, and she close shut up; 
the Lords had great conference how to keep ward and watch, 
everv man declaring his opinion in that behalf, agreeing 
straïghtly and circumspectly to keep her: while that one of 
them, I mean the Lord of SUSSEX, swearing, said, " My 
Lords[ let us take heed! and do no more than out Com- 
mission will bear us! whatsoever shall happen hereafter. 
And, further, let us consider that she was the King our 
Master's daughter! and therefore let us use such dealing, 
that we may answer unto it hereafter, if it shall so happen t 
For just dealing," said he, " is always answerable." 
\Vhereunto the other Lords agreed that it was well said of 
him: and thereupon departed. 
It would make a pitiful and strange story, here by the way, 
to touch and recite what examinations and rackings of poor 
men there were, to find out the knife that should cut her 
throat ! vhat gaping among the Lords of the Clergy to see 
the day, wherein they might wash their goodly white rochets 
in ber innocent blood ? But especially the Bishop of \V- 
CESTER, STEPmï GaRmNER, then Lord Chancellor, and 
ruler of the rost. 
\Vho the.n, within few days after [Match, 554], came unte 
ber, with divers other of the Council, and examined her ot 
of the talk that was at Ashridge, betwixt her and Sir JaES 
a CROFT conccrning her removing ff'oto thence to Don- 



j.V.x.q Is COXFIO.XWEr» V,,'ITII SIR JAMES A CROFT. I2 5 
x563-J 

nington Castle, requiring her to declare, "What she meant 
t hereby ?" 
At the first, she, being so suddenly taken, did not well 
remember any such house : but within a while, well advising 
herself, she said, " Indeed, I do no,v remember that I have 
such aplace: but I never lay in it, inallmvlife. And as 
for any that hath moved me thereunto, I do not remember." 
Then to enforce the matter, they brought forth Sir J.«MES 
A CROFT. 
The 13ishop of WXNCnES'rER demanded of her, "What she 
said to that man ? " 
She answered that, " She had little to say to him, or to 
the rest that were then prisonels in the Tover. But my 
Lords ! " quoth she, "you do examine every mean prisoner 
of me ! wherein, methinks, you do me great injury ! If they 
have done evil, and offended the Queen's Majesty, let them 
answer to it accordingly. I beseech you, my Lords ! join hot 
me in this sort with any of these ofenders ! And as con- 
cerning my going unto Donnington Castle, I do remember 
Master Ho and mine Officers, and you Sir JAMES A CROFT ! 
had such talk : but vhat is that to the purpose, my Lords! 
but that I may go to my oxvn houses at all rimes?" 
The Lord o[ Aç, kneeling down, said, " Your Grace 
saith true! and certainly we are very sorry that ve have so 
troubled you about so vain matters." 
She then said, "My Lords, you did sift me very narrovly ! 
But well I ara assured, you shall do no more to me, than 
GOD bath appointed : and so, GOD fOlgive you all! " 
At their departing, Sir J.,r,Es A CIOVT kneeled clown, 
declaring that " He vas sorry to see the day in which he 
should be brought as a witness against Her Grace." " But, 
I assure your Grace," said he, " I have been marvellously 
tossed and examined touching your Highness; which, the 
Lord knoweth! is strange to me. For I take GOD to 
record! before all your Honours! I do hot knov anything 
of that crime that you have laid to my charge! and will 
thereupon take my death, if I should be driven to so straight 
a trial." 

[There seerns no doubt that at the back ofall the following efforts to alle- 
viate and terminate the irnprisonment of the Princess, was the ever faithful 
Sir WILLIAM CECIL, working by many secret means, as far as he dare.] 



i_6 SIR J. GAGE'S THREAT TO lIER GENTLEMEN. L[JF°×',56» 

That day or thereabouts, divers of her ovn Officers, who 
had ruade provision for ber diet, brought the saine to the 
"n,e,e ,,-er« ,« utter [outcy] gare of the Tower; the common 
,,e ,««e,- of rascal soldiers receiving it: which was no small 
t|le Tow_r : but 
..,, .... ,t i grief unto the Gentlemen, the bearers thereof. 
,,.i,.,,«,. \Vherefore they required to speak with [Sir 
JoH G..E] the Lord Chamberlain, being, then Constable of 
the Tower : who, coming belote his presence, declared unto 
his Lordship that "thev were much afrid to bring Her 
Grace's diet, and to dêliver it unto such common and 
desperate persons as they were, which did receive it; be- 
seeching His Honour to consider Her Grace, and to give 
such order that her viands might at all times be brought in 
by them which were appointed thereunto." 
" Yea, sirs ! " said he, " who appointed you this office ? " 
They ansver, " Her Grace's Council !" 
" Council! " quoth he, " there is none of them which hath 
to do, either in that case, or anything else within this place ; 
and, I assure you ! for that she is a prisoner, she shall be 
served vith the Lieutenant's men, as the other prisoners are." 
Whereat the Gentlemen said that " They trusted for more 
favour at his hands! considering her personage," saying 
that "They mistrusted hot, but that the Queen and ber 
Council would be better to Her Grace than so ! " and there- 
with shewed themselves to be offended at the ungrateful 
harsh: words of the Lord Chamberlain, towards their Lady 
and 5listress. 
At this, he sware, by GOD ! stroking himselfon the breast ; 
that " If they did either fi'own or shrug at him ; he would set 
them where they should see neither sun nor moon !" 
Thus taking their leave, they desired GOD to bring him 
into a better mind towards Her Grace, and departed from him. 
Upon the occasion whereof [thcre being always a fcar of 
poisoncd food], Her Grace's Officers ruade great suit unto the 
Queen's Council, that some might be appointed to bring her 
diet unto her; and that it might no more be delivered in to 
the common soldiers of the Tower: which being reasonably 
considered, was by them granted. Thereupon were appointed 
one of her Gentlemen, ber Clerk of the Kitchen, and ber two 
Purveyors, to bring in her provisions once a day. All which 
was done. The warders ever vaiting upon the bringers 



j.-ox.q HEg Coo IS a:oo IUCH vOR Sir, JoI. i2 7 
t563._] 

thereof (and the Lord Chamberlain himself, being alvays 
with them), circumspectly and narrmvly watched and 
searched what they brought ; and gave heed that they should 
have no talk with any of Her Grace's waiting servants; and 
so warded them both in and out. 
At the said suit of her Officers, were sent, by the command- 
ment of the Council, to wait upon Her Grace, two Yeomen 
of her Chamber, one of her Robes, tvo of her Pantry and 
Ewry, one of her Buttel3", another of her Cellar, two of her 
Kitchen, and one of her Larder: all which continued with 
her, the rime of her trouble. 
Here the Constable (being at the first not very well pleased 
with the coming in of such a company against lais will) would 
have had lais men still to have servedwith Her Grace's men: 
vhich her servants, at no hand, vould suffer; desiring his 
Lordship to be contented, for " that order was taken that no 
stranger should corne within their offices." 
At which answer, being sore displeased, he brake out into 
these tbreatening vords: " Well," said he, " I will handle 
you well enough !" 
Then went he into the kitchen, and there would needs 
bave his meat roasted vith Her Grace's meat; and said 
" His cook should corne thither, and dress it." 
To that, Her Grace's Cook answered, " My Lord ! I will 
never surfer any stranger to corne about her diet, but her 
own sworn men, so long as I lire! " 
He said, "They should !" 
But the Cook said, " His Lordship should pardon him for 
that matter!" 
Thus did he trouble ber poor servants very stoutly : though 
afterward he were otherwise advised, and they were more 
courteously used at his hands. And good cause why ! For 
he had good cheer, and fared of the best ; and Her Grace 
paid well for it. 
Wherefore he used himself afterwards more reverently 
towards Her Grace. 

After this sort, havlng lain a whole month tbere, in close 
prison; and being very evil at ease therewithal; she sent 
lin Aprilj for the Lord Chamberlain and Lord CHANI)OS 
[see D. 7 8] to come and speak with her. 
\Vho coming, she requested them that "She might bave 



[-.l. Fox. 
I28 TIIE PRINCESS MAY WALIç IN A GARDEN. I_ s6» 

liberty to walk in some place, for that she felt herself not 
well." 
To the which, they answered that " They were right sorry 
that they could hot satisfy Her Grace's request; for that 
they had commandment to the contrary, which they durst 
hot in any wise break." 
Furthermore, she desired of them, " If that could hot be 
granted; that sbe might walk but into tbe ' Queen's Lodgings.'" 
" No, nor tbat!" they answered, " could, by any means, 
be obtained, without a further suit to the Queen and ber 
Council." 
" Well," said she, " my Lords ! if the matter be so hard 
that they must be sued unto, for so small a thing ; and that 
friendship be so strait, God comfort me !" 
And so they departed : she remaining in ber old dungeon 
still; without any kind of comfort, but only GOD. 
The next day after, tbe Lord CHANDOS came again unto 
Her Grace, declaring unto her that " He had sued unto the 
Council for further liberty. Some of them consented there- 
unto. Divers others dissented, for that there were so manv 
prisoners in the Tower. But in conclusion, they did a[l 
agree that Her Grace might walk into those 'Lodgings'; 
so that he and the Lord Chamberlain, and three of the 
Queen's Gentlewomen did accompany her: and the windows 
were shut, and she hot suffered to look out at any of them." 
\Vherewith, she contented herself; and gave him thanks for 
his goodwill in that behalf. 
Afterwards, there was liberty granted to Her Grace to walk 
in a little garden, the doors and gares being shut up; which, 
notwithstanding, was as much discomfort unto her, as the 
walk in the garden was oleasant and acceptable. At which 
times of her walking there, the prisoners on that side straightly 
were commanded hot to speak, or look out at the windows 
into the garden, till Her Grace were gone out again : having 
in consideration thereof, their keepers waiting upon them for 
tbat time. 
Thus Her Grace, with this small liberty, contented herself 
in GOD, to whom be praise therefore. 

During this time, there used a little boy, the child of a 
man in the Tower, to resort to their chambers, and many 



J. Fox.'] THE LITTLE FLOWER BOY OF TIIE TOWER. I2 9 
I563-J 

times to bring Her Grace flowers; which likevise he did to 
the other prisoners that were there. \Vhereupon naughty 
and suspicious heads thinking to make and xvring out some 
matter thereof, called, on a time, the child unto them, pro- 
mising him figs and apples, and asking, " When he had been 
with the Earl of DEVONSHIRE ? "not ignorant of the child's 
wonted frequenting unto him. 
The boy ansv«ered that " He would go by-and-by thither." 
Further they demanded of him, " When he vas vith the 
Lady ELIZABETH ? " 
He answered, " Every day ! " 
Furthermore they examined him, " \Vhat the Lord DEVOX- 
SHIRE sent by him to Her Grace ? " 
The child said, " I will go [and] knov what he will give to 
carry to her." Such was the discretion of the child, being 
3"et but three years of age. 
" This saine is a crafty boy!" Cluoth tbe Lord Chamber- 
lain ; "what say you, my Lord CHANDOS ? " 
" I pray you, my Lord ! give me the figs ye promised me !" 
" No, marry," quoth he, " thou shalt be whipped if thou 
corne any more to the Lady ELIZABETH, or the Lord 
COURTNEY [ " 
The boy answered, " I will bring the Lady, my Mistress, 
more flowers [ " 
\Vhereupon the child's father was commanded to permit 
the boy no more to come into their chambers. 
And the next day, as Her Grace was walking in the garden, 
the child, peeping in at a hole in the door, cried unto her, 
saying, " Mistress! I can bring you no more flowers!" 
\Vhereat, she smiled, but said nothing; understanding 
thereby, what they had done. 
\Vherefore, afterwards, the Lord Chamberlain rebuked his 
father highly ; commanding him to put him out of the house. 
" Alas, poor infant [" quoth the father. 
"It is a crafty knave!" quoth the Lord Chamberlain. 
" Let me see him here no more!" 
The 5th day of May [x554], the Constable was discharged 
of his office of the Tower ; one Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD being 
placed in his room. A man unknown to Her Grace, and 
therefore the more feared: which so sudden la] mutation 
was unto her, no little amaze. 
E.,-. a. iv. 9 



i3o SENT FROM TIIE TOWER TO V7OODSTOCK' L[J'F°x'x563. 

He brought with him a hundred soldiers in blue coats; 
wherewith she was marvellouslv discomforted ; and demanded 
of such as were about her, " Whether the Lady J.aNE's scaf- 
fold were taken avay or hot ?" fearing, by reason of their 
coming, least she should have played her part. 
To whom, answer was made, that " The scaffold was taken 
away; and that Her Grace needed not to doubt [fear] any 
such tyranny, for GOD would hot surfer any such treason 
against her person." 
\Vherewith, being contented, but hot altogether satisfied, 
she asked, "What Sir H. BEDINGFIELD was ? and whether he 
was of that conscience or not, that if ber murdeving were 
secretly committed to his charge, he would see the execution 
thereof ?" 
She was answered that "They were ignorant what manner 
of man he was." Howbeit they persuaded her that GOD 
would not surfer such vickedness to proceed. 
" Well ! " quoth she, "GOD grant it be so ! For Thou ! O 
GOD ! art the withdrawer and mollifier of all such tyrannous 
hearts and acts! and I beseech Thee! to hear me thy 
creature ! which ara Thy servant and at Thy commandment [ 
trusting by Thy grace ever so to remain." 

About which time, it was spread abroad, that Her Grace 
should be carried from thence ; by this new jolly captain and 
his scldiers; but whither, it could not be learned. \Vhich 
was unto Her Grace a great grief, especially for that such a 
kind of company was appointed to her guard: requesting 
rather to continue there still, than to be led thence with such 
a rascal company. 
At last, plain answer was ruade by the Lord CI«aNtos, 
that " There was no remedy ; but from thence she must needs 
depart to the Manor of Woodstock, as he thought." 
Being demanded of ber, " For what cause ? " 
" For that," quoth he, "the Tower is like[ly] further to be 
furnished." 
Whereat she, being more greedy, as far as she durst, de- 
manded, " wherewith !" 
He answered, "With such matter as the Queen and 
Council were determined in that behalf: whereof he had no 
knowledge." And so departed. 



j.w...-] LORD WILLIAMS, I|ER ST.tUNCII FRIEND. I3I 
5o3./ 

In conclusion, the x6th day of May she was removed fi'om 
the Tower : the Lord Treasurer [thc Marquis of ||'IXCHESTF.Rj 
bein" then there, for the lading of her carts, and discharging 
the Place of the saine. 

Where Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD, being appointed her 
goaler, did receive her v«ith a company of rakehells to guard 
her; besides tbe Lord of DERBY'S Band [servants] vafting in 
the country about, for the moonshine in the water[!!. Unto 
whom, at length came, my Lord [\VILLL«,tS] of Thame, 
joined in Commission, vith the said Sir HENRY for the sale 
guiding of her to prison. And tbey together conveyed Her 
Grace to \Voodstock, as hereafter followeth. 
The first day tI6th May], they conducted her to Richmond, 
where she continued ail night : being restrained of her own 
rnen, vhich were laid out in chambers; and Sir HENR," 
IEDINGFIELD his soldiers appointed in their rooms, to give 
attendance on her person. 
Whereat she, bei:g marvellously dismayed, thinking verily 
sorne secret mischief a working towards her, called her Gen- 
tleman Usher, and desired him with the test of his company 
to pray for her, "For this night," quoth she, "I think to die." 
Whereat he being stricken to the heart, said, "GOD 
forbid that any such vickedness should be pretended in- 
tended] against your Grace ! " 
So comforting her as vell as he could, he at last burst out 
in tears ; and vent from ber down into the court where were 
walking the Lord i\VILLAS] of Thame, and Sir HENR'," 
BEDINGFELD ; and he staying aside the Lord of Thame, who 
had proffered to him much friendship, desire to speak witb 
him a word or two. 
Unto whom, he familiarly said, " He shouM with all 
heart." 
Which when Sir HENRY standing by, heard, he asked, 
"What the matter was ? " 
To whom the Gentleman Usher ansvered, " No great 
marrer, sir, but to speak vith my Lord a word or two! " 
Then when the Lord of Thame came to him he spake in 
this vise, " My Lord ! you have alvays been my good Lord, 
and so I beseech you to remain. Why I corne to you at this 
time, is to desire your Honour, unfeignedly to declare unto 



SIR H. BEI) tNGFELD GRUNTS !. kFJr°'xs6s. 

me, whether any danger is meant unto my Mistress this night 
or not? that I and my poor fellows may take such part as 17it. 
shall please GOD to appoint. For certainly we will rather 
die, than she should secretly and innocently miscarry." 
" Marry," said the Lord of Thame, " GOD forbid that 
any such wicked purpose should be wrought ! and rather than 
it should be so, I, with my men, are ready to die at her feet also." 
And so, GOD be praised ! they passed that doubtful night, 
with no little heaviness of heart. 

The next day [I7th May] passing over the water Il.e., the 
Thames] at Richmond, going towards \Vindsor; Her Grace 
espied certain of her poor servants standing on the other side, 
which were very desirous to see her. Whom, when she 
beheld, turning to one of her men standing by, said, " Yonder, 
I see certain of my men ; go to them! and sa 3 - these words 
from me, Tanquam ovis ! " 
So, she passing forward to \Vindsor, was lodged there that 
night, in the Dean of Windsor's house : a place indeed more 
meet for a priest, than a Princess. 
And from thence [on ISth May] Her Grace was guarded and 
brought the next night, to Master DORt, iER'S house; where 
much people standing by the way, some presented to her one 
gift, and some another. So that Sir HER,z was greatly 
moved thereat, and troubled the poor people very sore, for 
shewirig their loving hearts in such a manner ; calling them 
'" Rebels !" and " Traitors ! " with such like vile words. 
Besides, as she passed through the villages, the tovnsmen 
rang the bells, as being joyful of her coming ; thinking verilv 
it had been otherwise than it was indeed : and as the sequèl 
proved after, to the poor men. For immediately the said 
Sir HENRZ hearing the saine, sent his soldiers hither: who 
apprehended some of the ringers, setting them in the stocks, 
and otherwise uncourteously misused some others for their 
good wills. 
On the morrow [ISth May Her Grace passed from Master 
DORMER'S, where vas, for the rime of ber abode, a straight 
watch kept ; came to the Lord of Thame his bouse [at Thame] 
where she lay all the next night ; being very princely enter- 
tained, both of Knights and Ladies, gentlemen and gentle- 
women. Whereat Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD gronted [grunted] 



j. Fox.' 
»63j AND IS MOCKED AT FOR HIS COARSENESS. I3. 3 

and was highly offended, saying unto them that " They could 
not tell what they did, and were not able to answer to their 
doings in that behalf; letting them to understand that she 
was the Queen's Majesty's prisoner, and no otherwise; ad- 
vising them therefore to take heed, and beware ofafter claps !" 
Whereunto, the Lord of Thame answered him in this wise, 
that " He was well advised of [in] his doings, being joined in 
Commission as well as he," adding with warrant, that " Her 
Grace might, and should, in his house, be merry." 
After this, Sir HENRY went up into a chamber, where were 
appointed for Her Grace, a chair, two cushions, and a foot- 
carpet, very fait and prince-like ; wherein presumptuously he 
sat, calling for BARWmK, his man, to pull off his boots: which 
as soon as it was known among the ladies and gentles, every 
one musing thereat, did laugh him to scorn ; and observed his 
indiscreet manners-in that behalf, as they might very well. 
When supper was done, he called my Lord, and willed him 
that all the Gentlemen and Ladies should withdraw them- 
selves; every one to his lodging: marvelling much that he 
would permit there such a company; considering so great a 
charge was committed to him. 
" Sir HENRY ! " quoth my Lord, " content yourself ! All 
shall be voided, your men and ail." 
" Nay, my soldiers," quoth Sir HENI',', " shall watch all 
night." 
The said Lord of Thame answered, " It shall not need." 
" Well," said he, "need or need hot, they shall do so," 
mistrusting, belike, the company ; which, GOD knoweth, was 
without cause. 
The next day [I9th Ma.) , Her Grace took her journey from 
thence, to Woodstock; where she was enclosed, as before 
in the Tower of London ; the soldiers guarding and warding 
both within and without the walls, every day to the number 
of three score, and, in the night, without the valls forty; 
during the time of her imprisonment there. 
At length, she had gardens appointed for her valks, which 
were very comfortable to Her Grace. Always when she did 
recreate herself therein, the doors were fast locked up, in as 
straight a manner as they were in the Tmver ; there being at 
the least rive or six locks between her lodging and her walks ; 
Sir HENRY himself keeping the keys, trusted no man therewith. 



[-J. Fox. 
34 THE JOKE OF THE STRAY WELSH GOAT. / s63. 

Whereupon she called him "her gaoler :" and he, kneeling 
down, desired Her Grace hot to call him so, for he was 
appointed there to be one of her Officers. 
"From such Officers," quotb she, "good Lord, deliver me!" 

And now, by way of digression, or rather of refreshing the 
reader (if it be lawful in so serious'a story to recite a matter 
incident, and yet not impertinent to the saine) occasion 
here moveth or rather enforceth me to touch briefly what 
happened in the same place and time, by a certain merry con- 
ceited man, being then about Her Grace. \Vho(notingthe 
straixbt and Stl'ange keeping of his Lady and Mistress by the 
said Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD, with so many locks and doors, 
with such watch and ward about ber, as was strange and 
wonderful) spied a goat in the ward where Her Grace was; 
and (wbether to refrcsh her oppressed mind, or to notify her 
straight handling by Sir HENRY ; or else both), he took it up 
on lais neck, and followed Her Grace therewith, as she was 
going to her lodging. \Vho, when she saw it, asked him, 
" \Vhat he would do with him ? " willing him to let it alone. 
Unto whom, the said party answered, "No, by Saint 
Mary! if it like your Grace! will I hot ! For I cannot tell 
whether he be one of the Queen's fliends or hot. I will, GOD 
willing ! carry him to Sir HENRY tEDINGFIELD, to know what 
he is." 
So, leaving Her Grace, went, with the goat on his neck, 
and carried it to Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD ; who, when he saw 
him coming with it, asked him half angrily, " \Vhat he had 
there ? " 
Unto whom the party ansvered, saying, " Sir! I cannot 
tell what he is. I pray you, examine him ! for I found bim 
in the place where my Lady's Grace was walking, and what 
talk they have had, I cannot tell. For I understand himnot, 
but he should seem to me to l:e some stranger : and I think 
verily a \Velshman, for he hath a white frieze coat on his 
back. And forasmuch as I being the Queen's subject, and 
perceiving the strait charge committed to you of her keeping, 
that no stranger should have access to ber, without sufficient 
license : I have here found a stranger (what he is, I cannot 
tell) in the place where Her Grace was walking ; and, there- 
fore, for the necessary discharge of my duty, I thought it 



J. Fox.'] SIR HENRY NERVOUS AS TO PENS AND PAPER. 
s63.A 

good to bring the said stranger to you to examine, as you see 
cause." And so he set him down. 
At which his words, Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD seemed much 
displeased, and said, " Well ! well ! you will never leavethis 
gear, I see." And so they departed. 

Now to return to the matter ri'oto whence we have digressed. 
After Her Grace's being there a time [i.e., about a ycar], 
she ruade suit to the Council, that she might be suffered to 
write to the Queen ; which, at last, was permitted to Her 
Grace. So that Sir HENRY BEt)mGFmL) brought her pen, 
ink, and paper; and standing by her, while she wrote, which 
he very straitly observed; always, she being veary, would 
carry away her letters, and bring them again when she called 
for them. 
In the finishing thereof, he would have been messenger to 
the Queen of the saine; xvhose request Her Grace denied, 
saying, "One of her oxvn men should carry them ; and that 
she would neither trust him, nor none of his thereabouts." 
Then he answering again, said," None of them durst be so 
bold," he trowed, " to carry her letters, being in her present 
case ! " 
"Yes," quoth she, "I ara assured I bave none so dishonest 
that would deny my request in that behalf; but will be as 
willing to serve me now as before." 
" Well," said he, "my Commission is to the contrary ; and 
may hot surfer it." 
Her Grace, replying again, said, "You charge me very 
often with your Commission! I pray GOD you may justly 
answer the cruel dealing ye deal with me !" 
Then he kneeling down, desired Her Grace to think and 
consider how ke was a servant, and put in trust there by the 
Queen to serve Her Majesty : protesting that if the case were 
hers, he vould as v«illingly serve Her Grace, as nov he did 
the Queen's Highness. 
For the which answer, Her Grace thanked him, desiring 
GOD that she might never have need of such servants as he 
was: declaring further to him that his doings towards her 
were not ood or ansverable, but more than all the friends 
he had, xvould stand by ; for in the end, she plainly told him, 
they would forsake him. 



136 THE PRINCESS IS A PRISONER ATt." 56» 

To xvhom, Sir HEIRV replied, and said that " There xvas 
no remedy but his doings must be answered; and so they 
should, trusting to make a good accourir thereof." 
The cause which moved Her Grace so to say, was for that 
he would not permit her letters to be carried, four or rive days 
after the çvriting thereof. But, in fine, he was content to send 
for her Gentleman from the town of Woodstock, demanding 
of him, " Whether he durst enterprise the carriage of Her 
Grace's letters to the Queen or not? " 
And he answered, " Yea, sir ! That I dare, and will, with ail 
my beart." 
\Vhereupon, Sir HF.IIV, half against his stomach, took 
them to him, to the effect aforesaid. 

Then, about the 8th of June [1555] came down Doctor 
OWEN and Doctor \VEIIIF, sent bv the Queen to Her Grace, 
for that she was sickly ; who minitering to ber, and letting 
her blood, tarried there, and attended on Her Grace rive or six 
days : who being vell anaended, they returned again to the 
Court, making their good report to the Queen and Council, 
of Her Grace's behaviour and humbleness towards the Queen's 
Highness ; vhich Her Majesty hearing, took very thankfully. 
But the Bishops thereat repined, looked black in the mouth, 
and told the Queen, they " marvelled she submitted hot ber- 
self to Her Majesty's mercy, considering that she had offçnded 
Her Highness." 
\Vily champions, ye may be sure ! and friends at a need! 
GOD amend them! 

About this time, Her Grace was requested by a secret friend, 
" to submit herself to the Queen's Majesty ; which vould be 
very well taken, and to her great quiet and commodity." 
Unto whom, she ansvered that " She would never submit 
berself to them whom she had never offended ! For," quoth 
she, "if I have offended, and ana guilty; I then crave no mercy, 
but the law ! which I am certain I should have had, ere this, 
ifit could be proved by me. For I know mvself, I thank 
GOD ! to be out of the danger thereof, wishiiîg that I were 
as clear out of the peril of my enemy ; and then I am sure I 
should not be so locked and bolted up vithin walls and doors as 
I ara. GOD give them a better mind ! when it pleaseth Him." 



J'F°x' V krOODSTOCK FOR MORETIIAN A YEAR. 
x563.J 

About this time [i.e., aftcr the Queen's marria,e on 3rd .uly 
1555] was there a great consulting among the Bishops and 
gentlemen, touching a marriage for Her Grace : which some 
of the Spaniards wished to be with some stranger, that she 
might go out of the realm with her portion. Some saying 
one thing, and some another. 
A Lord [Lord PAGET] being there, at last said that " the 
King should never have any quiet common wealth in Eng- 
land; unless her head were stricken from the shoulders." 
Whereunto the Spaniards answered, saying, " GOD forbid 
that their King and Master should have that mind to consent 
to such a mi-chief " Tbis was the courteous answer of the 
Spaniards to the Englishmen speaking, after that sort, against 
their own country. 
From that day. the Spaniards never leff off their good per- 
suasions to the King, that the like honour he should never 
obtain as he sbould in delivering the Lady ELIZABETH'S 
Grace out of prison: wbereby, at length, sbe was happily 
released from the saine. 
Hereis a plain and evident example of thegood nature and 
clemency of the King and his Councillors towards Her Grace. 
Praised be GOD therefore  who moved their hearts therein. 
Then hereupon, she was sent for, shortly affel', to corne to 
Hampton Court. 
In her imprisonment at XVoodstock, these verses she wrote 
with her diamond, in a glass window. 
Much susccted by me, 
Nothing provcd can be, 
Quoth ELIZABETH the prisoner. 
[In the Second Edition ofhis Actes, &c., pub]ished in  570 under the fi'esh 
title of cdesiastical istay, ri. 2.294 JOHN FOX gives the following 
additional information of the Voodstock imprisonment. 
And thus much touching the troubles of Lady ELIZABETH 
at Woodstock. 
Whereunto this is more to be added, that during the saine 
rime the Lord [WILLIAMS] Of Thame had laboured for the 
Queen, and became suretv for her, to have her from Wood- 
stock to h house, and had obtained grant thereof. But 
/through the procurement either of Master BEDINGFIELD, or 
by the doing of [the Bishop of] WINCHESIER, her mortal 



, ['J. 
i38 AFTER IARYS MARRIAGE, IS DELIVEREDI_ x563. 

enemy), letters came over night, to the contrary: whereby 
her journey was stopped. 
Thus, this vorthy Lad)', oppressed with continual sorrow, 
could hot be permitted to bave recourse to any friends she 
had; but st:'ll in the hands of ber enemies, was left desolate, 
and utterly destitute of all that might refresh a doleful heart, 
fraught full of terror and thraldom. \Vhereupon no marvel, 
if she l:earing, upon a rime, out of ber garden at \Voodstock, 
a certain milkmaid singing pleasantly, wished herself to be a 
milkmaid, as she was : saying that " Her case was better, and 
life more merry than hers, in that state she vas.] 
Sir HEI¢A" IEDINGFIELD and lais soldiers, with the Lord 
[\VILLIAMS] of Thame, and Sir IALPH CHAMBERLAIN guard- 
ing and waiting upon her, the first night [)Culy 1555] from 
\Voqdstock, she came to Rycot. 
The next night to Master DORt, tER's; and so to Cole- 
brook, where she lay all that night at the George. By the 
way, coming to the said Colebrook, certain of her gentle- 
men and yeomen, to the number of three score met Her 
Grace, much to ail their comforts : which had hot seen Her 
Grace of long season belote, neither could : but were com- 
manded, in the Queen's naine, immediately to depart the 
town," to Her Grace's no little heaviness and theirs, who 
could hot be suffered once to speak with from them. So 
that night ail her men vere taken her, saving her Gentleman 
Usher, three gentlewomen, two Grooms, and one of ber 
Wardrobe ; the Soldiers watching and warding round-about 
the bouse, and she shut up close within ber prison. 
The next day Her Grace entered Hampton Court on the 
back side, unto the Prince's Lodgings. The doors being shut 
to ber; and she, guarded vith soidiers as before, lay there a 
fortnight at the least, ere ever any had recourse unto ber. 
At length, came the Lord \VLLa.', HOWARD, who mar- 
vellously honourably used Her Grace: whereat she took 
much comfort, and requested him to be a means that she 
might speak with some of the Council. 
To wbom, not long after came the Bishop of WNCrESTI, 
the Lord of A:NDEL, the Lord of SI4rEWSm:RY, and Secre- 
tary PETRE ; who, with great humility, humbled themselves 
to Her Grace. 



j. Fox.] 
x563.] FROM PRISON AT 'VOODSTOCK. r39 

She again likewise saluting them, said, " My Lords ! I ara 
glad to see you! For, methinks, I have been kept a great 
while from you, desolately alone. \Vherefore I would desire 
you to be a means to the King's and Queen's Majesties, that 
I may be delivered from prison, wherein I have been kept a 
long space, as to you, my Lords, is not unknown ! " 
\Vhen she had spoken, STEPHEN GARDINER, the Bishop of 
\VINCHESTER kneeled down, and requested that " She would 
submit herself to the Queen's Grace ; and in so doing he had 
no doubt but that Her Majesty would be good unto her." 
She ruade ans\ver that " rather than she would do so, she 
would lie in prison all the days of her life:" adding that 
"she craved no mercy at Her Majesty's hand, but rather 
desired the law, if ever she did offend her Majesty in thought, 
xvord, or deed. And besides this, in 31eldln,, quoth she, 
" I should speak against myself, and confess myself tobe an 
offender, which I never was towards Her Majesty; by occasion 
whereof, the King and Queen, might ever hereafter conceive 
an ill opinion of me: and, therefore, I sa3", my Lords! it 
were better for me to lie in prison for the truth, than to be 
abroad and suspected of my Prince." 
And so they departed, promising to declare her message to 
the Queen. 
On the next day [uly 1555] the Bishop of \VINCHESTER 
came again unto Her Grace, and kneeling down, declared that 
"The Queen marveIIed that she should so stoutly use herself, 
not confessing to have offended ; so that it should seem the 
Queen's Majesty wronxfuIIy to bave imprisoned Her Grace." 
" Nay," quoth my Lady ELIZABETH, " it may please her 
to punish me, as she thinketh good." 
" WeIl," quoth GARDINER, " Her Majesty willeth me to 
tell you, that you must tell another tale ere that you be set 
at liberty." 
Her Grace answered that "She had as lief be in prison 
with honesty and truth, as to be abroad suspected of Her 
Majesty. And this that I have said, I will stand to. Fol I 
will never belle myself! " 
The Lord of \VNCHESTER again kneeled doxvn, and said, 
" Then your Grace hath the vantage of me and the other 
Lords, for your long and wrong imprisonment." 
" \\:bat vantage I have," quoth she, " vou know ; taking" 



I4O THE QUEEN SEES lIER, AT NIGIIT. L ,563. 

GOD to record, I seek no vantag, e at your hands, for your so 
dealing with me. But GOD forgive )'ou, and me also ! " 
\Vith that, the rest kneeled, desiring Her Grace that "all 
rnight be forgotten," and so departed, she being fast locked 
up again. 
A sevennight after [..Tuly I555], the Queen's Majesty sent 
for Her Grace, at ten of the clock in the night, to speak with 
her. For she had hOt seen her in two years belote. Yet for 
ail that, she was amazed at the so sudden sending for, 
thinking it had been worse for her, than afterwards proved ; 
and desired her gentlemen and gentlewomen to "pray for her ! 
tor that she could not tell whether ever she should see them 
a¢,alll or not." 
At which time, comingin with Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD and 
Mistress CLARENCIUS llb. 216_1, Her Grace was brought into 
the garden, unto a stairs' foot, that went into the Queen's 
Lodging; Her Grace's gentlewomen waiting upon ber, her 
Gentleman Usher and his grooms going before with torches. 
\Vhere hergentlemen and gentlewomen being ail commanded 
to stay, saving one woman; Mistress CLARENCIUS conducted 
ber to the Queen's bedchamber, where Her Majesty was. 
At the sight of whom, Her Grace kneeled down, and 
desired GOD to "preserve Her Majesty !not mistrusting, but 
that she should try herself as true a subject towards Her 
Majesty as ever any did," and desired Her Majesty even so 
to judge of her; and said "she should not find her to the 
contrary; whatsoever false report otherwise had gone of her." 
To vhom, the Queen answeled, " You will not confess 
your offence ; but stand stoutlyin your truth ! I pray GOD ] 
t may so fall out." 
" If it do not," quoth she, " I request neither favour nor 
pardon at your Majesty's hands." 
" WelI," said the Queen, " you stiffly still pel'severe in 
your truth ! I3elike, you will hOt confess but that you have 
wrongly punished !" 
" I must not say so, if it please your Majesty! to you ! " 
" \Vhy, then," said the Queen, " belike 3ou will to others." 
" No, if it please your Majesty! " quoth she, "I have 
borne the burden, and must bear it. I humbly beseech your 
Majesty to bave a good opinion of me, and to think me to be 
your true subject ;not only from the beginning, hithcrto; but 
for ever, as long as life lasteth." 



J. Vo,,.-I ELIZABETH IN CHARGE OS SIR T. POPE. I4 
z563-_J 

And so they departed [separated], with very few comfortable 
words of the Queen in English. But what she said in 
Spanish, GOD knoweth! Itis thought that King PI-tILIp 
was there, behind a cloth [tapcsty], and hot shewn; and that 
he shewed himself a very fi'iend in that matter, &c. 
Thus Her Grace departing, went to ber lodging again ; and 
the sevennight after, was released of Sir HENRY BEDING- 
FIELO, " ber gaoler," as she termed him, and his soldiers. 
So Her Grace, set at liberty from imprisonment, went into 
the country, and had appointed to go with ber, Sir THOMAS 
POPE, one of Queen MARV's Councillors; and one of ber 
Gentleman Ushers, Master GAGE; and thus straitly was she 
looked to, ail Queen MARV'S time. 
And this is the discourse of Her Highness's imprisonment. 

Then there came to Lamheyre, Master JERNINGHAM, and 
NORRIS, Gentleman Usher, Queen MARY'S men; who took 
away from Her Grace, Mistress ASHELEY to the Fleet, and 
three others of ber gentlemen to the Tower; which thing was 
no little trouble to Her Grace, saying, that " she thought 
they would fetch all away at the end." But God be praised ! 
shortly after vas fetched avay GARDINER, through the merci- 
fui providence of the LORD's goodness, by occasion of whose 
opportune decease [t3th Novembcr, I555 a, the lire of this. so ex- 
cellent Prince that is the vealth of England, was preserved. 
After the death of this GARDINER ; followed the death also, 
and dropping away of others, her enemies ; whereby, by little 
and little, ber jeopardy decreased, fear diminished, hope of 
more comfort began to appear, as out of a dark cloud ; and 
though as yet Her Grace had no full assurance of perfect 
safety, yet more gentle entertainment daily did grow unto 
her, till the saine day, which took away the said Queen MAR', 
brought in the saine her foresaid sister, Lady ELIZABETH in 
to the right of the Crown of England. Who, after so long 
restrainment, so great dangers escaped, such blusterous 
storms overblovn, so many injuries digested and vrongs 
sustained: the mighty protection of our merciful GOD, to 
our no little safeguard, bath exalted and erected, out of thrall, 
to liberty ; out of danger, to peace and rule ; ri'oto dread, to 
dignity ; from misery, to majesty ; from mourning, to ruling ; 
briefly, of a prisoner, hath ruade her a Prince; and hath 



I42 ELIZABETH'S GENEROSITY TO SIR HENRV. 
L 563- 

placed her in her royal throne, being placed and proclaimed 
Queen with as many glad hearts of her subjects, as ever was 
any King or Queen in this realm before, or ever shall be I 
tbink) hereafter. 
In whose advancement, and this her princely governance, 
it cannot sufficiently be expressed what felicity and blessed 
happiness this realm hath received, in receiving her at the 
LORD's almighty and gracious hand. For as tbere have 
been divers Kings and Rulers over this realm, and I have 
read of some; yet could I never find in English Chronicles, 
the like that may be written of this our noble and worthy 
Queen, whose coming in was not only so calm, so joyful, so 
peaceable, without shedding of any blood; but also her 
reigning bitherto (reign now four years and more) hath been 
so quiet, that 3"et (the LORD bave all the glory!) to this 
present day, her Sword is a virgin, spotted and polluted with 
no drop of blood. 
In speaking whereof, I take not upon me the part of the 
Moral, or of the Divine Philosopher, to Judge of things done ; 
but only keep me within the compass of an Historiograpl:er, 
declaring what bath been before; and comparing things done, 
with things now present, the like whereof, as I said, is not to 
be round lightly in Chronicles before. And this, as I speak 
truly, so would I tobetaken without flattery; to be left toour 
posterity, ad sempitcrnam, clementice illius memoriam. 
In commendation of which her clemency, I might also here 
add, bow mildly Her Grace, after she was advanced to her 
Kingdom, did forgive the said Sir HENRY BEDINGFIELD; 
suffering him, without molestation, to enjoy goods, life, lands, 
and liberty. But I let this pass. 

Thus hast thou, gentle Reader ! simp|y but truly described 
unto thee, the time, first, of the sorrowful adversity of this 
our most Sovereign Queen that now is; also, the miraculous 
preserving her in so many straights and distresses: wbich I 
thought here briefly to notify, the rather for that the won- 
drous vorks of the LORD ought hOt to be suppressed ; and 
that also Her Majesty, and we ber poor subjects likewise, 
having thereby a present marrer always before out eyes, be 
admonished hoxv much we are bound to His Divine majesty, 
and also to tender thanks fo Him condignly for the saine. 



tormcntc, an crucllp burnc itbin nBlan; 
ince tc catb of out famou ing, of 
mcmorç, E D »V A R D tbe irtb, to tbc cntrancc 
an bcinnn of tbe rcin of out outcin 
an carçt ap E L I Z A B E T H, 
nlan, ranct, an ttan, uctn; 
ttulp an ptopetlp appettainet, n(rt 
of 
rclan. 
So be it. 



IVD one of t/e angels (saith Saint 
JottN) @al'e, saybzg unto me, " lat 
are taW, «ich are arrwed in long ite 
garments; and hence corne t/ W  " (ore 
tk« t«obie, aore sealed @ tJe angeZ), zn 
I said unto Jim, « Lord tJou ottesti" 
ilnd De saM unto me, ' T/ese are tkey 
• waick came out great triDu/ation j and 
.wasked tJeir garments> and ruade 

t/zem v/dte in t/e 
Lam. T])eref ore 
t/ae presence of /e 

Mood of t/e 
are t/ey in 
Thrne of 

GOD, and serve I-iim, day and 
nig/t, in His Temple : 
and tte t/at sittet/a 
in t/e T/rone 
vill 
dwell among 
t/em." 



T MAV please your goodness, Honourable Lord ! to 
 Ç[ receive in good part, the little labour of 
mv 
pen: 
 which, albeit the rudeness and quantity thereof 
procureth not fo be dedicate[d] to so honourable a 
Personage ; yet the matter itself is of such xvorthiness, as 
duly deserveth fo be graven in gold. But who goeth about so 
finely to depict with A'ELLES'S instrument, this said Rcgister, 
thinking to exceed the rest ? Not I ! poor wretch ! because 
I am assured that such a worthy work as thereof may be 
written, cannot, neither shall pass untouched among so 
many godly learnecl. But xvere it, that no man hereafter 
should, in more ample and learnecl manner, set forth the 
same ; yet should my presumption (if I so meant) be turned 
to reproach: for this I believe, that they be in such sort 
registered in the 13ook of the Living, as passeth either pen, 
ink, or memory to declare. 
£NG. GAR. IV,  0 



]-Rev. T. Brce. 
146 D E D I C A T O R Y E P I S T L E T O LSpring of ,ss. 
This my simplicity and too bold attempt might more your 
Honour to conjecture in me much rudeness, or, at the least, 
might persuade me so to think : but that experience hath 
showed me the humility and gentleness of your long tried 
patience ; the certain knowledge whereofhath pricked me for- 
ward in this my pretence. And being thereunto requested of 
a faithful brother and friend ; I have, with more industry than 
learning, GOD knoweth ! finished the saine. 
Which being, as I thought, brought to good end; I 
desired, according to the accustomed manner, to dedicate 
the saine unto such [an] one, as would not contemn so 
simple a gift. And calling you to mind, Right Honourable 
Lord ! I knew none more meet. First, because your know- 
ledge in CHRIST teacheth you the saine godly and virtuous 
life ; which hot only your Lordship, but ail other Honourable, 
&c., ought to ensue. Secondly, because these late years, you 
have had good experience of the troubles and miseries of the 
faithful, which have patiently embraced in their arrns, the 
comfortable, although painful, cross of CRST ; which, in so 
great a number, is commonly not so plenteous as commend- 
able. But what stand I praising this patience in them 
(which yet deserveth the saine)? seeing the mighty GOD 
and His CHRIST hath prepared, from everlasting, for such, 
a glorious, rich and incomprehensible Crown of Felicity and 
continual comforts. 
This my short and simple work, I commend and dedicate 
unto your Lordship ! craving pardon at your hands, for this 
my too homely and rude enterprise : considering that albeit 
golden fruit were offered in pewter and by the hands of a 
simple man; yet is the fruit notwithstanding still precious, 
and neither abased by the pexvter, nor the giver. Even so, 
Honourable Lord! though the verses be simple, and the 
giver unworthy: yet the fruit or matter is precious, com- 
fortable and good. 
The order to attain to the perfect tmderstanding of my 
mind, in setting forth the saine with figures and letters, 



IRev. T. Brice."l LORD PARR, I\IARQUIS OF NO.RTttAMPTON. x47 
Sprlng of x559..J 
shall largcly appcar in this book : which I havc hot only donc 
to makc plain unto your Honour, thc ycar, month, and day ; 
but also, to all othcrs that hcrcaftcr shall rcad it. For that 
I do pretend [design], if GOD and favour will permit it, to 
use the same as common to the profit of all : for which cause, 
I have also placed a Preface to the Reader. 
But that it may please your Honour, in respect of the pre- 
mises, to extend your favourable assistance to the manifest 
setting forth of this short and simple work, to the glory of the 
great and mighty GOD, and to the comfort of Christians : I, 
as unworthy and too bold a suitor, most humbly craveth your 
Lordship's aid and supportation in the saine; especially to 
bear [with] the rudeness of my unlearned style, which, Mas, I 
lainent. 
But now ceasing to trouble your Lordship any longer, this 
shall be my continual prayer for you. 
The wisdom of GOD direct your Honoer.t 
The mcrcy of GOD give you slhiritual lbowcr ! 
The HOL Y GHOST guide and co,oEort 
.you, with all fMncss cf 
consolation in 
CnRZSr ïïsvs ! 

Your Lordship's daily orator, 
THOMAS 13 RI CE. 



OE0 tI]c cntle tcacr, 

Av it please thee, gentle Reader, to take in good 
worth this short and simple Registcr, containing 
the names of divers, although hot all, both men, 
women, and virgins, &c., who, for the pro- 
fession of CHRtST their Captain, bave been most 
miserably afflicted, tormented, and [im]prisoned ; and, in fine, 
either died by some occasion in prison, or else erected [gone 
fo ]tcaven] in the charret [ficry chariot] of ELIAS, since the 4th 
day of February, 1555, to the ITth day of November, I558, 
wherein (according to the determination of out most merciful 
Father) out longwished forand most noble Queen, ELIZABETH, 
was placed Governess and Queen, by general Proclamation ; 
to the great comfort of all true English hearts. 
This I commit to thy friendly acceptation and favourable 
scanning, gentle Reader, and albeit, I doubt hot but some, 
of godly zeal, both wise and learned, will hot negleet, here- 
after, to set forth so worthy a work, namely, of the martyrdom 
and patient sufferings of CHRIST'S elect Members ; and also of 
the tyrannical tragedies of the unmerciful Ministers of SATAN : 
yet, at the request of a dear friend, to whm love and Nature 
hath linked me, I could not, without ingratitude, der.y his 
lawful desire, attempting the saine ; also, rather because it 
might be manifest to the eyes of the world, and also put the 
learned, of godly zeal, in memory more amply to enlarge; 
and, at their good discretion, to set forth the saine. Pardon 
my rudeness, therefore, I beseech thee! considering that 
will in the unable is to be esteemed. Look not upon the 
basness of the metre! the true number whereof cannot 
easily be observed in such a gathering of names: but, with 
lifted eyes of the mind, meditate upon the omnipotent power of 
GOD ! which hath given and wrought such constancy in His 
children, in these out days, that even in fiery flambes [flames] 
and terrible torments, they have hOt ceased to invocate and 



R,v.T.rc,.' To THE READER 49 
Spring of xS59._J ° 

extol the naine of their Creator, Redeemer, and Comforter, 
according to the saying of the cxlviii. Psalm., " Young men 
and maidens, old men and children" have set forth His 
worthy and excellent praise. So that the saine just and 
righteous GOD, who, for our sins, corrected us, and gave us 
over into the hands of the most bloody and viperous genera- 
tion, to be eaten like bread: hath now, of His mercy alone, 
"exalted the horn of His people." Therefore all His saints 
shall praise Him. 
Farewell I 
T.B. 

OEIe manncr I)o' to uncrtano tl)c 
Ictttr anl ffgurc. 

[A specimen of a Stanza of the Register as originally given by ]3RlCE, 
will help the reader to understand the unnecessarily complicated form in 
which he put it ; and also the following Instructions, which were omitted in 
subsequent impressions. 
Three stanzas occupy each page of the original edition. They are 
printed like this. 

63 

March. 

When that JOHN DEWNESHE and HUGH FOXE» 
In Smithfield, cruel death sustained, 
As fixèd foes to Romish rocks ; 
And CUTHBERT SYMSON also slain. 
When these did worthily receive their death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

A comparison of tbis Stanza, with its fellow at page I67, will show our 
method of reproducing thi text.] 



[-Rev. T. Brce. 
150 T H E D E C L A R A T I O N O F T II E LSpring of t559- 

N »mMUS, the figures, which are always four in 
number, are placed in the middle of the two 
strykes [strokes, or rules], which go between the 
verses, within two short strikes ; signify the year 
wherein those persons were slain under them 
contained. 
And where you see a little cross, ,, on the outside of the 
outmost line, it signifieth the changing of the year Il.e., o 
the 25th March], as from 1554 to 1555 ; and in such manner. 
The letters which stand in the little square place, on the 
right side of the book, signified the month wherein they died ; 
and for the plainer understanding thereof I have used twelve 
letters, for the twelve months : that is, A, for January ; 13, for 
February ; C, for March ; D, for April ; E, for May ; F, for 
June ; G, for July ; H, for August ; I, for September ; K, for 
October ; L, for November ; M, for December. 
But xvhere one letter standeth in the little square place; 
and another is placed under it between the two lines before 
the verse be ended ; it signified the changing of the month: 
so that the person or persons, where against the letter so 
changed doth stand, was put to death in that month which 
that letter doth signify. 
And whereas, in the third Verse [or Stanza,#. 154], and no- 
where else, there standeth figures on the right side, between 
the two lines; that giveth to understand that HOlTEI, 
I-IIGBYE, PICKET, and KNIGHT, which are placed in one line, 
were burnt at three sundry days. 
The figures which standeth in the little square place, on 
the left side of the book, is but the sum of the Verses. But 
those which stand between the two lines on the left side of 
the book, signified the day of the month, wherein that 
person or persons died, where against those figures stand. 
The figures, which stand without both the lines, on the top 
of the right side, signifieth the folio or number of the sides ; 
but the figures which stand underneath the nether strike, 
between the two lines, is the number of persons murdered on 
that side [i.e., of the page]. 
This is done, gentle Reader! that thou shouldest under- 
stand the year, month, and day wherein every person died ; 
according to the knowledge that I have learned. 
Also, in some places, where you shall see a naine or names 



Rev. T. Brlce.-] 
Springof 559-J L E T T E K S A N D F I G U K E S. I  1 

stand without figures; that signifieth the certain day to be 
unknovn. Some, therefore, perchance, will judge much 
rashness in me to write with ignorance; to whom, with 
reverence, I answer, that as I received the names registered 
and gathered by a good gentleman: even so, at a friend's 
desire, I have put them in metre, in this little book, thinking 
that, by pleasantness of reading, and easiness [cheapncss] of 
price, they might be the more largely blown and known. 
For my desire is that all men should participate [in] this 
my travail: and were the author and inditing half so 
worthy as the matter ; then would I most earnestly wish and 
desire that it might be conveyed and delivered to the Queen's 
Majesty's own hands. Wherein Her Grace might see, what 
unmerciful blinisters had charge over the poor sheep ; who, 
wolfishly, at their wills, devoured the saine : and, also, what 
ruin and decay of Her Grace's subjects (that might have 
been), they have brought to pass. Therein might Her Grace 
see, as in a glass, how that bloodthirsty generation, neither 
spared hore [hoary] headed and ancient age, which all men 
ought to honour; neither youth, nor middle age; neither 
wife, nor vidow; young man, nor tender virgin. But like 
the unnatural eggs of ASTYAGES that tyrant, destroy, and 
spill the blood of all : besides stocking [[mtting in the stocks], 
racking ![mtting on the rack], and whipping of the younger 
sort ; whom shame would hot surfer to kill, as some are well 
enough known, and I am not altogether ignorant [of]. 
Should such tyrannical tragedies be kept one hour, from 
the hands of so noble and virtuous a Governess ? whose 
princely and natural heart, I doubt not, should have occasion 
thereby to be, in both kinds, both heavy and joyful : hea'y 
for the innocent blood spilt ; but joyful for the praises of her 
GOD, and that our GOD shall be honoured thereby, while 
the world doth endure. I doubt whether doubt hot but] Her 
Grace, inwardly wrapt up with PaUL and JOHN in divine science., 
will brast [burst] out and say, "0 happy LTIr, IER! CRA- 
MER! HOOPER ! ROGERS! FARRER! TAYLOR! SAUNDERS ! 
PI-IILIOT! CARDMAKER! BRADFORD! &C.:; you members of 
CHRIST! you faithful Fathers and preaching Pastors! you, 
that have not defiled yourselves with abomination, but have 
washed your garments white in the blood of the Lamb ! you, 
that in fiery torments, with STEPHEN, have called upon the 



r-Rev. T. ]r'ce. 
152 T H E D E C L A R A T I O N,  C . [Spring o[ z559. 

name of your Redeemer, and so finished you lives ! you that 
are now clothed in white garments of innocency, with crowns 
of consolation, and palms of victory in your hands, follow- 
ing the Lamb withersoever He goeth ! " Or else, in anguish 
of soul, sighingly to say, "O thou tyrannous and unmer- 
ciful world ! thou monstrous and unnatural generation ! what 
devil inflamed thy mind such malicious mischief? to tor- 
ment and shed the blood of such innocent livers, perfect 
preachers and worthy counsellors, learned ministers, diligent 
divines, perfect personages, and faithful shepherds. They 
were constant Confessors before, but thou (with the Roman 
Emperor) thoughtest to prevent the determination of GOD, 
in making them Martyrs, to be the sooner with their Crmls'r, 
whom they so much talked of. O cruel NEIOS! that could 
kill, through malice, such worthy men, as have often preached 
to our dear father [HENRY 1/111.] and brother [Ezw.4RZ FI.] 
the everlasting gospel of GOD. Could neither honourable 
age, innocent single life, chaste matrimony, inviolate virginity, 
nor yet pity move you to cease shedding of blood ! Alas, too 
much unnaturalness ! " 
Whether the sight of this simple book, I say, should bring 
to ber Grace's natural heart, the passions of heaviness or joy, 
I doubt : but I think rather both. 
Therefore, would to God ! it were worthy to enter into the 
hands of so noble and natural a Princess and Queen ; whom 
the LORD, of His eternal and foreseeing determination, hath 
now placed in this royal dignity: to the redress of such un- 
natural and bloody facts, as in this book are contained. 
But forasmuch as some imperfection is, and may easily be 
in this Gathering; I commend it to thy goodness, gentle 
Reader! beseeching thee, not to be precise in perusing the 
day ; for it may, that, either through my negligence, or that 
of] some other writing [man.usc'iptj before me, we may miss 
so narrow a mark. 
Such as it is, I commend 
unto thee ! only, judge 
well ! 



I53 

The Book to the Reader. 

ERUSE with Imtience , I thce Iray ! 
My simple style, and mette base. 
The works of GOD, with wisdom wcigh .t 
The force of Love, the strength of Grace. 

Love causèd GOD, His grace to give, 
To such as should for Him be slain. 
Grace wrought in thcm, while they did live, 
.For love, to love their CHRIST again. 

Now Grace is of such strength and might, 
That nothing may the saine withstand. 
Grace puttcth dcath and hcll to flight, 
And guides us to the Living Land. 

The force of Love also is such, 
That fear and pain if doth cxpcl ; 
Love thinketh nothing over much ; 
:Love doth all earthly lhbgs excel. 

Thus Love and Grace of GOD began 
To work bt them, to do His will : 
These virtues' force wrought Love hz man, 
That fear was past, their blood to slill. 

FINIS. 



154 

Gc tcitcr of tb 

[Never before did such doggerel verse carry so fearful a story as this. 
It is thought to have been useful to JOHN FOX, when at work on his 
.4c/es aJzd .|lonume/es g'c.,  563. 
The following entries in the Statiom'rs' Regislers show that there were 
two simultaneous editions of this work, both surreptitiously produced in 
559. 
RYCHARD ADAMS [see t. 7-'-] for pryntinge The l?«.çes/er of all /hem 
/bal rx,«o'e burned without lycense was fined at vs. ["--£  . 1os. now]. 
Ow'N ROç, ERS for printinge without lycense T/te leges/er tf ailAhem 
lhat vctï burtal was fyned at xxd.] 
[Transcrit oec., l.p. xox, Ed. z875.] 
15. 
FzmuaR"  HEN raging reign of tyrants 
stout, 
Causeless, did cruelly conspire 
To rend and root the Simple 
Otlt 
With furiousforce of sword and 
tire ; 
When man and wife vere put to death : 
We wished for our Queen El.tZaB'rm 
4 When RonRs ruefuily was brent ; 
8 When SaUNDRS did the like sustain ; 
When faithful FaRRaR forth was sent 
His life to lose, vith grievous pain ; 
zz When constant HooPm died the death : 
We wished for our 

FEBRUARY 

FEBRUARY. 

9 \Vhen ROWLAND TAYLOR, that Divine, 
At Hadley, left this loathsome light ; 
4 \Vhen si0aple LAWRENCE, they did pine, 
2 \Vith HUNTER, HIGBY, PIGOT, and KNIGHT; 
9. 3 When CAUSUN, constantly, died the death: 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



Rev. T. Brlce.'] 
Spring of '559-_1 

MARCH 

THE REGISTER [OF THE IIARTYRS- 1. 155 
1'655. 
5 When TOMKINS, tyranny did abide, 
Having his hand, with torchlight brent ; 
7 When LAWRENCE, WHITE, and DIGGZLL died, 
With earnest zeal and good intent ; 
x4 When WiLma FLOWER vas put to death : 
We wished for our ELZaBZTH. 

APRIL 

9. When AWCOCKE, in Newgate prisoner, 
His latter end, with joy, did make; 
xx When .IOHN WARREN and CARDMAKER, 
Kissed each other at the stake; 
9. 4 When MARCH, the Minister, was put to death : 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

JuNI 

JUNE 

JUNE 

When WILLIAM COWLE¥, for offence, 
4 Was forthwith hanged at Charing Cross; 
Buried ; then burned, of fond pretence; 
Thus carion carcass they did toss: 
When such insipients put men to death, 
We xvished for our ELIZABETH. 

IO When xvorthy WATTES, with constant cry, 
Continued in the flaming tire; 
Ix When SIMSON, HAWKES, and ,IOHN ARDLIE 
Did taste the tyrant's raging ire; 
Ix When CHAMBERLAINE was put to death : 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

IZ When blessèd BUTTER and OSMANDE, 
VVith force of tire, to death were brent ; 
I2 \Vhen SHITTERDUN,Sir FRANKE, and BLANDE, 
12 And HUMFREY I[IDDLETON of Kent ; 
I When MINGE, in Maidstone, took his death: 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



J ULY 

TIIE 

REGISTER [OF THE MARTYRS]. LSp,ing 
\¥hen BRADORD beautified with bliss, 
\Vith young JOHN LEAST, in Smithfield, died; 
When they, like brethren, both did Mss, 
And in the tire were truly tried ; 
When tears were shed for BRADFORB'S death 
\Ve wished for our ELIZABETH. 

j ULY 

I2 When DIRICK HARMAN lost his life ; 
I2 When LAUNDER, in their fume, they fried; 
I2 \Vhen they sent EVERSON from strife, 
With moody minds, and puffèd pride ; 
12 VVhen WADE, at Dartford, died the death : 
\Ve wished for our ELIZABETH. 

JULY 

-x When RICHARD HooKE,limbless and lame, 
At Chichester, did bear the cross ; 
-2 When humble HALL, for CHRISTeS naine, 
Ensued the same, with worldly ]oss; 
3 \Vhen JoAq POLLEY was burnt to death : 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

JuLY 

23 When WILLIAM AILEWARDE, at Reading, 
In prison died of sickness sore ; 
23 When ABBES, which feigned a recanting 
Did wofuIIy weep, and deplore; 
33 \Vhen he, at Bury, was done to death : 
\Ve wished for out ELIZABETH. 

AUGUST 

23 When DENLY died, at Uxbridge town, 
With constant care to CHRISTeS cause 
23 When WARREN'S widow yielded down 
Her flesh and blood, for holy laws; 
Vfhen she, at Stratford, died the death 
XYe wished for out ELIZABETH. 



Rev. T. Brice.'] 
Spring of 559.J 

AUGUST 

THE REGISTER [OF THE MARTYRS]. I57 

1555. 
-3 When LAURENCE, COLLIER, COKER, and 
STERE 
At Canterbury, were causeless slain, [tire, 
23 x, Vith HOPPER and VRIGHTE; Six in one 
Converted flesh to earth again ; 
24 When ROGER CORRIAR was done to death : 
XVe wished for our ELIZABETH. 

AUGUST 

26 When TANKERFIELDE, at St. Albans, 
26 And VILLIAM BAMFORD, spent his blood; 
'When harmful hearts, as hard as stones, 
3 ° Burnt ROBERT SMITH and ;TEPHEN HAR- 
WO[O]D ; 
9 When PATRICK PATTINGHAM died the death : 
X, Ve wished for out ELIZABETH. 

AUGU ST 

31 When JOHN NEXVMAN, and THOMAS FUSSE, 
At Ware, and Walden, made their end ; 
3 ° \Vhen WILLIAM HAILES, for CHRIST JESUS, 
With breath and blood did still contend ; 
31 \Vhen he, at Barnet, xvas put to death : 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

AUGUST 

31 When SAMUELL did firmly fight, 
Till flesh and blood, to ashes xvent ; 
3 \Vhen constant COB, with faith upright, 
At Thetford, cruelly was brent : 
\Vhen these with joy did take their death ; 
X, Ve wished for out ELIZABETH. 

SEPTEMBER 

2 When WILLIAM ALLEN, at Walsingham, 
For truth was tried in fiery flame ; 
3 When ROOER COOE, that good old man ! 
Did lose his life, for CHRISTeS naine ; 
When these, with others, were put to death : 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



! 58 TItE 
SEPTEMBER 

REGISTER [OF TIiE MARTYRS]. Lsp»ing|Rev" T. 
6 When BrArmoe, Srr, and 
W'ARDE, 
6 TUTTIE, and (EORGE PAINTER of Hyde 
Unto their duty, had good regard ; 
\Vherefore in one tire, they were fried : 
When these, at Canterbury, took their death 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

SEPTEMBER 

When JOHN LESSE, prisoner in Newgate, 
Io By sickness turned to earth and clay; 
When wicked men, with ire and hate, 
13 Burnt THOMAS HEYWARDE, and GOREWAY; 
I3 \Vhen TINGLE, in Newgate, took his death : 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

SEPTEMBER 14 When RICHARD SMITH in Lollards' 
Toxver ; 
15 ANDROWES and KYN6, by sickness, died ; 
In fait fields they had their bower, 
Where earth and clay doth still abide: 
\Vhen they, in this wise, did die the death ; 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

SEPTEMBER I9 When GLOVER, and CORNELIUS 
Were tiercely brent at Coventry ; 
4 When WOLSEY and PIGOT, forCHRIST JESUS 
At Ely, felt like cruelty. 
19 When the poor bewept Master GLOVER'S 
\,Ve wished for out ELIZABETH. [death, 

OCTOBER 

When learnèd RIDLEY, and LATIMER» 
I6 Without regard, were sviftly slain ; 
,Vhen furious foes could not confer 
But with revenge and mortal pain. 
,¥hen these two Fathers were put to death : 
XVe wished for our ELIZABETH. 



Rev. T. Brlce.'] 
Spring of x559-_1 

OCTOBER 

THE REGISTER [_OF THE IIARTYRS]. 159 
13 When worthy WEB, and GEORGE ROPER, 
In ELIAS' car to heaven were sent ; 
x3 Also when GREGORY PAINTER, 
The same straight path and voyage vent ; 
\¥hen they, at Canterbury, took their death ; 
We wished for out ELIZABETHo 

DECEMBER 

When godly GORE in prison died, 
And WISEMAR in the Lollards' Toxver: 
\Vhen Master PHILPOT, truly tried, 
Ended his life with peace and power; 
When he kissèd the chain, at his death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

JANUARY 

1556. 

27 When THOMAS VHITWELL, and ]ARTLET 
GREENE, 
27 ANNIS FOSTER, JOAN LASHEFORDE, and 
BROUNE, 
27 TUTSUN, and "VINTER; these Seven were 
seen, 
In Smithfield, beat their enemies down ; 
Even Flesh and Devil, \Vorld and Death: 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

JANUARY 

31 When JOHN LOWMAS and ANN ALBRIGHT, 
3I JOAN SOALE, JOAN PAINTER, and ANNIS 
SNOD, 
In tire, with flesh and blood did fight ; 
\¥hen tongues of tyrants laid on Iode ; 
xvVhen these, at once, vere put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



FEBRUARY 

MARCH 

MARCtt 

,APRIL 

APRIL 

REGISTER [-OF TItE IARTYRS-]. l.Spa-gI-R«" T.fBrle«,SSg. 
1556. 
When two women in Ipswich town, 
x 9 Joyfully did the tire embrace ; 
\Vhen they sang out with cheerful sound, 
Their fixèd foes for to deface ; 
When NORWICH NO-BODX' put them to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

12 

When constant CRANMER 1ost his life 
And held his hand into the tire ; 
\Vhen streams of tears for him were rife, 
And yet did miss their just desire : 
When Popish power put him to death, 
VVe wished for our ELIZABETH. 

24 

When SPENCER and two brethren more 
\Vere put to death at Salisbury ; 
Ashes to earth did right restore, 
They being then joyful and merry : 
XVhen these, with violence, were burnt to 
VVe wished for out ELIZABETH. [death, 

2 When HULLIARDE, a Pastor pure, 
At Cambridge, did this life despise ; 
9_ When HAR'rPOOLES death, they did procure 
To make his flesh a sacrifice ; 
When John BECHE, widow, was done to 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. [death : 

IO \Vhen WILLIAM TIMMES, AMBROSE, and 
DRAKE, 
IO SPURGE, SPURGE, and CAVELL duly died, 
Confessing that, for CHRISTeS sake, 
They were content thus to be tried : 
Io \Vhen * LONDON LITTLE-GFaçCE put them to 
We wished for out ELIZABITH. [death, 



l,v. T. Bc,.-I THE REGISTER [Or THE MART'RS]. I6I 
Spring of t559..] 

APRIL 

1556. 
28 When lowly LISTER, NICOLL, and MASE, 
28 JOHN HAMMON, SPENCER, and YREN also, 
At Colchester, in the Postern Place, 
Joyfully to their death did go ; 
5 When two, at Gloucester, were put to death : 
We wished for OUT ELIZABETH. 

MAY 

When MARGARET ELIOT, being a maid, 
13 After condemning, in prison died; 
15 When lame LAVAROCKE, the tire assayed, 
15 And blind APRICE with him was tried : 
\Vhen these two impotents were put 
death, 
W'e wished for OUT ELIZABETH. 

to 

MAY 

x6 When KATHERINE HUT did spend her 
blood 
x6 With two maids, ELIZABETH and JOAN ; 
When they embraced both reed and wood, 
Trusting in CHRIST His death alone : 
When men unnatural drew these to death, 
We wished for OUT ELIZABETH. 

MA" 

I When two men and a sister dear, 
At Beccles were consumed to dust ; 
3 x When WILLIAM SLECHE, constant and clear, 
In prison died, with hope and trust ; 
When these, OUT brethren, were put to death, 
We wished for OUT ELIZABETH. 

JUNB 

IV. 

6 When JOHN OSWOLD, and THOMAS REEDE, 
6 HARLAND, MILWRIGHT, and EVlNGTON ; 
Vqith blazing brands their blood did bleed 
As their brethren before had done. 
Vv'hen tyranny drave these to death, 
VVe wished for out ELIZABETH. 
II 



62 TH. 

JUNE 

REGISTER [OF THE I{ARTYRS. LSp, i-gI-R«" T.ofBi¢«,S59. 

1556. 
20 "vVhen V'HOD the Pastor, with THOAS 
At Lewes, lost this mortal gain ; [I[ILLES 
Compassed with spears, and bloody bills, 
Unto the stake for to be slain : 
23 V¢hen WILLIAM ADHERAL did die the death, 
Vv'e wished for our ELIZABETH. 

JuNE 

27 When J[c]soq, HOLYWEL, and 
2 7 BOWIER, LAWRENCE, and ADDLINGTON 
2 7 When ROTH, SEARLES, LION, and HURST 
did die ; 
2 7 W'ith whom, two vomen to death were done : 
When DORIFALL, with them,was put to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

JVNE 

27 X,Vhen THOMAS 1OARRET, prisoner, 
30 And I[ARTIN HUNTE died in the King's 
Bench ; 
When the young man at Leicester, 
And CLEMENT died, with filthy stench ; 
25 XVhen CARELESS, SO took his death : 
VCe wished for our ELIZABETH. 

JULY 

16 

When ASKUE, PALMER, and JOHN GWI 
Were brent with force, at Newbury ; 
Lamenting only for their sins, 
And in the LORD were full merry : 
"vVhen tyrants merciless, put these to death, 
X.Ve wished for our ELIZABETH. 

I8 When JOHN FORMAN, and mother TREE, 
At * Grenstede, cruelly were slain ; 
18 \Vhen THOMAS DUNGATE, to make up three, 
"With them did pass from woe and pain : 
W'hen these, with others, were put to death; 
"We wished for out ELIZABETH. 



Spring of 559.d 

AUGUST 

TUE REGISTER [01 TUE MARTYRS]. 
1/i/i6. 
2o \Vhen the weaver af Bristow died, 
And, at Derby, a wedded wife ; 
V¢hen these with fiery flames were fried, 
For CHRISTeS cause, losing their lire ; 
V¢hen many others were put to death, 
V¢e wished for out ELIZABETHo 

SEPTEMBER 
: 

When RAVENSDALE and two brethren more, 
To earthly ashes were consumed ; 
25 A godly glover would not adore 
Their filthy idol; whereat they fumed ; 
V¢hen he, at Bristol, was put to death, 
XWe wished for our ELIZABETH. 

SEPTEMBER 26 

,Vhen JOHN HORNE, with a woman wise, 
At Newton, under hedge were killed, 
Stretching their hands with lifted eyes, 
And so their years, in earth fulfilled ; 
When these, with violence, xvere put to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

SEPTEMBER 

When DUNSTON, CLARKE, and POTKIN'S 
wife, 
TILLIAM FOSTER, and ARCHER also, 
In Canterbury, did lose their lire 
I3y famishment ; as the talk do go. 
V¢hen these, alas, thus took their death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

OCTOBER 

V¢hen three, within one castle died, 
And in the fields were layed to rest. 
When af Northampton, a man was tried 
hether G0D or Mammon he loved best. 
When these, by tyranny, were put fo death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



64 TIIE 

JANUARY 

JANUARY 

APRIL 

MAY 

JUNE 

REGISTER [OF THE IIARTYRS]. tre.. T. ric« 
LSpring of "559- 
1557. 
œee When THOMAS FINALL and his man, 
2 FOSTER and three good members more, 
Were purgèd vith their fiery fan 
At Canterbury, with torments sore.. 
When they with cheerfulness took theirdeath, 
We wished tor our ELIZABETH. 

When two at Ashford, with cruelty, 
For CHRISTeS cause, to death were brent ; 
2 \¥hen, not long after, two, at Wye, 
Suffered for CHRIST His Testament: 
\¥hen wily volves put these to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

When STANLY'S wife, and ANNIS HYDE, 
STURTLE, RAMSEY, and JOHN LOTHESBY 
\Vere content, torments fo abide, 
And took the saine right patientIy ; 
\Vhen these, in SmithfieId, were done to 
\Ve wished for our ELIZABETH. [death, 

When WILLIAM MORANT and STEVEN 
GRATXVICK 
Refused, with falsehood to be beguiled, 
And for the saine, were burnèd quick, 
\Vith fury, in Saint George's Field ; 
\Vhen these, with others were put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETIt. 

16 When JOAN BRADBRIDE, and a blind maid, 
16 AVVELBY, ALLEN, and both their wives ; 
16 When MANNnO'S wife was hot afraid, 
But all these Seven did 1ose their lires. 
When these, at Maidstone, were put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



Rev. T. Brice.-[ 
Spring of 559.1 

JuNç 

JUNE 

JULY 

j ULY 

TIIE REGISTER [OF T'IE MAlZTçRS]. I65 

1557. 
19 When JOHN FtSCOKE, PERDUE, and 
WHITE ; 
19 BARBARA, widow; and BENDEN'S wife; 
19 '0,rith these, \VILSON'S wife did firmly tight, 
And for their faith, all lost their lire ; 
Vhen these, at Canterbu, died the death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

OE2 When WlLLIAM ]klAINARDE, his maid and 
22 ]ARGERY MORIES, and her son ; [man ; 
22 DENIS, BORDES, STEVENS, and \Vo[o]DMAN; 
22 GLOVE'S wife, and ASHDON'S, to death were 
done ; [death, 
When one tire, at Lewes, brought to them 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

When AMBROSE died in Maidstone Gaol, 
And so set free from tyrant's hands ; 
When SIION MILNER they did assail, 
Having'him, and a xvoman in bands; 
XVhen these, at Norwich, were done to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 

When ten, at Colchester, in one day, 
Were fried with tire, of tyrants stout ; 
Not once permitted truth to say, 
But were compassed with bills about: 
When these, with others, were put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

When (EORGE EDLES, a.t Chelmsford 
Was hangèd, drawn, and quarerèd; [town, 
His quarters carried up and dox;n, 
And on a pole they set his head. 
When wrestèd law put him to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 



I66 

JULY 

THE REGISTER [-OF THE MARTYRS]. [_$pring[-Rev" T.ofBri¢,.1559. 

1557. 
5 Vhen THURSTON'$ wife, at Chichester, 
5 And BOURNER'S wife, with ber also ; 
2o When two women at Rochester, 
2o With father FRIER were sent from woe : 
23 When one, at Norwich, did die the death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

AUGUST 

I0 

When JoYcE Bowes, at Lichfield died, 
Continuing constant in the tire ; 
XVhen fixèd faith was truly tried, 
Having her just and long desire. 
When she, with others were put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

AUGUST 

17 When RICHARD ROOTH and RALPH 
GLAITON 
I7 With JAMES AUSCOO and his wife 
\Vere brent with force at Islington, 
Ending this short and sinful life; 
When they with cheerfulness, did take their 
VVe wished for out ELiZABETH. [death ; 

OCTOBER I8 

When SPARROV, GIBSON, and HOLLING- 
DAY, 
In Smithfield, did the stake embrace ; 
When tire converted flesh to clay, 
They being joyful of such grace : 
\Vhen lawless liberty put them to death, 
VVe wished for out ELIZABETH. 

DECEMBER 22 \Vhen JOHN ROUGHE, a Minister meek, 
22 And MARGARE'r M ERING, with courage died: 
Because CHRIST only they did seek, 
With tire of force, they must be fried ; 
When these, in Smithfield, were put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 



Rev. T. Brice.'] 
Spring of x559-.] 

MARCH 

THE REGISTER [OF THE MARTYRS]. ,6 7 

1558. 
When that JOHN DEWNESHE and HUGH 
FOXE, 
In Smithfield, cruel death sustained, 
As fixèd foes to Romish rocks ; 
And CUTHBERT SYMSON also slain. 
When these did worthily receive their death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

MARCH 

When DALE deceased in Bury gaol, 
According to GOD's ordinance ; 
When widow THURSTON they did assail ; 
And brought ANN BONGER to Death's Dance ; 
When these, at Colchester, were done to 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. [death, 

APRIL 

9 When VILLIAM NICOLL, in Ha[ve]rfor[d]- 
Was trièd with their fiery tire: [west, 
20 When Sv,',ION fought against the best, 
oo With OLOVER, and THOMÆS CARMAN ; 
When these, at Norwich, did die the death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETHo 

MAY 

o6 When XVILLIAM HARRIS, and RICHARD 
DA¥ ; [brent : 
,6 And CHRISTmN JEORGE with them was 
Holding their enemies at a bay 
Till lire was lost, and breath ail spent ; 
x, Vhen these, at Colchester, were put to 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. [death, 

JuNB 

27 XVhen SOUTHAN, LAUNDER, and RICARBIE; 
2 7 HOLLYDAY, HOLLANDE) PONDE, and FLOOD, 
XVith cheerful look and constant cry, 
27 For CHRISTeS cause, did spend their blood : 
When these in Smithfield were put to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETHo 



68 THE 

JUNE 

JULY 

JuLY 

NOVEMBER 

IOVEMBER 

1/8. 
%Vhen THOMAS TYLER passed this place ; 
And i\ATTHE%¥ V%TITHERS also died. 
Though suit were much, yet little grace 
Among the Rulers could be spied : 
In prison, patiently, they took their death, 
VVe wishing for ELIZABETH. 

xo \¥hen RICHARD YEMAN, Ministcr, 
At Norwich, did his lire forsake ; 
19 \Vhen Master BENBRIKE, at \Vinchester, 
A lively sacrifice did make. 
AVhen these, with others, were put to death, 
Wc wished for out ELIZABETH. 

14 \Vhen VILLIAM PECKES, COTTON, and 
VREIGHT, 
The Popish power did sore invade ; 
To Burning School, they were sent straight, 
14 And with them went, constant JOHN SLADE : 
When these, at Brainford, were put to death, 
We wished for our ELIZABETH. 

4 Vvhen ALEXANDER (ECHE was brent, 
4 And with him ELIZABETH LAUNSON ; 
When they with joy, did both consent 
To do as their brethren had donc ; 
When these, at Ipswich, were put to death, 
We wished for ELIZABETH. 

5 When JOHN DAVY, and eke his brother, 
5 With PHILIP HUMFREY kissed the cross ; 
When they did comfort one another 
Against ail fear, and worldy loss ; 
When these, at Bury, were put to death, 
We wished for out ELIZABETH. 



«V.spri,g'r.a,ce.-I,». THE REGISTER EOF THE MARTYRS]. 1 6 9 
.NIOVEMBER. When, last of ail (to take their leave !), 
[II] Af Canterbury, they did some consume, 
Who constantly to CHRIST did cleave ; 
Theyefore were fried with fiery fume : 
But, six days affer these were put to death, 
GOD sent us our ELIZABETH [ 
Out wished wealth hath brought us peace. 
Our joy is full ; our hope obtained ; 
The blazing brands of tire do cease, 
The slaying sword also restrained. 
The simple sheep, preserved from death 
By our good Queen, ELIZABETH. 
As Hope hath here obtained her prey, 
By GOD's good will and Providence ; 
So Trust doth truly look for stay, 
Through His heavenly influence, 
That great GOLIATH shall be put fo death 
By our good Queen, ELIZABETH. 
ç That GOD's true Word shall placèd be, 
The hungry souls, for to sustMn ; 
That Perfect Love and Unity 
Shall be set in their seat again : 
That no more good men shall be put fo death ; 
' Seeing GOD hath sent ELIZABETH. 
Pray we, therefore, both night and day, 
For Her Highness, as we be bound. 
0 LORD, preserve this Branch of Bay I 
(And all her foes, with force confound) 
Here, long fo live  and, affer death, 
Receive our Queen, ELIZABETH [ 
Affoc. 6. How long tarriest thou, 0 LORD, holy and true ! 
lo judge, and avenge out blood on them that dwell on the earth. 
FINIS. 



7o 

The u, ishes of the Vise, 
lVhich long tobe at test ; 
To GOD, with lifted eycs, 
They call fo be redressed. 

HEI shall this rime of travail cease 
Which we, with woe sustain ? 
When shall the days of test and peace, 
Return to us again ? 

When shall the mind be movèd right 
To leave this lusting lire ? 
When shali our motions and delight 
I3e free from wrath and strife ? 

When shall the time of woful tears 
Be movèd unto mirth ? 
x, Vhen shall the aged, with grey hairs» 
Rejoice at children's birth ? 

When shall Jerusalem rejoice 
In Him, that is their King? 
And Sion's hill, with cheerful voice, 
Sing psaims with triumphing ? 

When shall the walis erected be, 
That foes, with fury, 'fray ? 
When shall that perfect Olive Tree, 
Give odour like the Bay ? 

When shall the Vineyard be restoreJ, 
That beastly boars devour ? 
Vhen shall the people, iate abhorrecl, 
Receive a quiet hour ? 



Rev. T. Brice.'l T H E W I S H E S O F T H E W I s E. 
Spring of x559..] 
When shall the SPIRIT more fervent be, 
In us that want good will ? 
When shall Thy mercies set us free 
From wickedness and iii ? 
gVhen shall the serpents, that surmise 
To poison Thine Elect, 
Ie bound to better exercise, 
Or utterly reject ? 
When shall the blood revengèd bc, 
Which on the earth is shed ? 
When shall sin and iniquity 
Be cast into the bed ? 
When shall that Man of Sin appear 
To be, even as he is ? 
When shall thy babes and children dear 
Receive eternal bliss ? 
When shall that painted Whore of Rome 
13e cast unto the ground ? 
When shall ber children bave their doom, 
Which virtue would confound ? 
When shall Thy Spouse, and Turtle Dove 
13e free from bitter blast ? 
When shall Thy grace, our sins remove, 
With pardon at the last ? 
When shall this lire translatèd be, 
From fortune's fickle fall ? 
When shall True Faith and Equity 
Remain in general ? 
When shall Contention and Debate, 
For ever slack and cease ? 
When shall the days of evil date, 
13e turnèd unto peace ? 



[-Rev. T. Brice. 
I 7 2 T H E W I S H E S O F T H E W I s E [_Spring of z559. 

When shall True Dealing rule the rost 
With those that buy and sell ; 
And Single Mind, in every coast, 
Among us bide and dxvell ? 

When shall our minds xvholly convert 
From wealth, and worldly gain ? 
When shall the,movings of our heart 
From xvickedness refrain ? 

When shall this flesh return to dust, 
From whence the saine did spring? 
"When shall the trial of our trust 
Appearing xvith triumphing ? 

When shall the Trump blow out his blast, 
And thy dear babes revive ? 
When shall the \Vhore be headlong cast, 
That sought us to deprive ? 

When shall Thy CHRIST, our King, appear 
\Vith power and renown ? 
XVhen shall Thy saints, that surfer here, 
Receive their promised croxvn ? 

"When shall the faithful, firmly stand ? 
Before Thy face to dvell ; 
\Vhen shall Thy foes, at Thy left hand, 
13e cast into the hell ? 

At)oca. 22. 

Corne, L 0 R D 
T.B. 
[ Smptintcl at Lonlon, 

yESU! 



I73 

The vinninç o] c Calais by tbe French, 
yanuary x558 A.D. 

There is but little doubt that the gross negligence whereby Ca/Ms was 
lost to us, was but the natural outcome of the national demoralization 
occasioned by the public administration of Queen MAR¥ ; which placed 
ail Laymen at the mercy of the Spiritualty, and ail Englishmen at the 
command of the Spaniard. Looking back, all now acknowledge 
that the loss of Calais was a gain to England, as well as to France : 
but for a time, it did sting Englishmen to the quick ; and that, ail 
the more, seeing it vas lost in a war in which we were only fight- 
ing PHILIP'S battles, and had no rem concern ourselves. 
We here group the following Eye Witness reports, accounts &c. of the 
loss of the English Pale in France. 
C A L A 1 S. G. FERRERS, General 2Varrative of the Reca2Mure... 173 
Lord WENTWORTH and the Council at Calais. 
Let&'r to Queen l]lARr', 23 l][ay 557 ...... 
Lords WENTWORTH and GREY and the Council at 
Calais. l?«port ta Queen ,]Ier; 27 1)«c. 557 87 
Lord WENTWORTH. Letler Io Quecn 21fARt', 
 Canuary 558; 9p.m ................ 9o 
Lord WENTWORTH. Leller la Quecn 21IAv, 
2 Canuary 558 ; op.m ................ 192 
J. HGHtlELr. A'arrative of tlte Capture of Calais. 
[March 558] ..................... 96 
"' J. Fox. AIistress 2"HORPs escale at Calais ... 202 
• G t.r t s  E s. Lord GRE¥, Govemor at Guisnes. Letler ta Queen 
A[ARI; 4 'anuay 1558 ; 7 a.m .......... 203 
T. CHURCHYARD. S]tare in, and Accounl 
sieê ofGuisnes, I-22 anuary 558 ...... 205 

GEORGE FERRES, the Poet. 
Geeral 2rarratie of tbe Recapture. 
[GI.rTOI'S Cltranicle. a569.] 
JOHN STOW, in his Annals, P. o7o, d. 6oo, refetring to this recapture, 
says, « Whereof Master GEORGE FERRERS bath written at large : 
for he collected the whole history of Qneen l][Aer', as the saine is set 
down, under the 'naine of IICHARD GRAFTON." 
Itis clear from UNDERHILLs narrative at . 9 o, that his frlend FERRER$ 
who had been Lord of Misrule u.nder EDWARD ¥I.» wa- a Proteztant. 



I-G. 
Iî4 TttE BATTLE OF ST. QUENTIN. L  

OR if ought were won by the having of St. Quentin, 
England got .n.o.thing at ail ; for the gain thereof 
came only to King PHILIP : but the loss of Calais, 
Hammes, and Guisnes, with all the country on 
that side of the sea, which followed soon after, 
was such a buffet to England as [had] not happened in more 
than an hundred years before; and a dishonour wherewith 
this realm shall be blotted until GOD shall give power to 
redubbe it with some like requital to the French. 
At this time, althougb open hostility and war were between 
England and France, yet, contrary to tbe ancient custom 
aforc used, the town of Calais and the forts tbereabouts were 
hot supplied with any new accrues [reDoEorcements] of soldiers; 
which negligence was not unknown to the enemy, who, long 
before, had practised [plottcd] the winning of the said town and 
country. The French King therefore (being sharply nettled 
with the late loss of St. Quentin and a great piece of his 
country adjoining, and desirous of revenge) thought it hot 
meet to let slip this occasion ; and having presently a full 
army in a readiness to cmploy where most advantage should 
appear, determined to put in proof, with all speed, the enter- 
prise of Calais; which long, and many times before, was 
purposed upon. 
This practice [design] was hot so secret but that the 
Deputies of Calais and Guisnes had some intelligence 
thereof; and informed the Queen [MARY] and her Council 
accordingly : nevertbeless, either by wilful negligence there, 
or lack of credit by the Queen's Council here, this great case 
was so slenderly regarded as no provision of defence was 
ruade ufltil it was somewhat too late. 
The Duke of GUISE [known as, Le Balafré], being General 
of the French army, proceeded in this enterprise xvith mar- 
vellous policy. For approaching the English frontier known 
it out history as the English Palc], under colour to victual 
t3oulogne and Ardes ; he entered upon the same, on a sudden 
[on ISt ffammry, 1558 ] ; and took a little bulwark fortification] 
called Sandgate, by assault. He then divided his army into 
two parts, sending one part with certain great pieces of 
artillery along the downs [sandhills] by the sea-side towards 
Risbank [or Ruisbank, a detached fort in Calais harbour. See 
Vol. II.t. 39]; and the other part, furnished also with battery 



G. Fort-ets.] CAPTURE OF NEWNHAM BRIDGE & RUISBNK. 175 
. J»68._1 
pieces, marched straight forth to Newnham [or Newhaven] 
Bridge : meaning to batter the two forts, both atone time. 
Which thing he did with such celerity, that coming thither very 
late in the evening, ho was toaster of both by the next morning. 
At the first shot discharged at Newnham Bridge, the head 
of the Master Gunner of that piece [fort], whose naine was 
HORSELEY, was clean stricken off. The Captain [NICHOLAS 
ALEXANDER] considering the great power of the French 
army; and having his fort but slenderly manned to make 
sucient resistance, fled to Calais. And by the rime he was 
corne thither, the other part of the French army that went 
by the seaside, with their battery, had won Risbank ; being 
abandoned [by Cafitain JOHN HARLESTONE] to their hands. 
The next day [znd of ffanuary], the Frenchmen, with rive 
double-cannons and three culverins, began a battery from 
the sandhills next Risbank, against the town of Calais; and 
continued the same, by the space of two or three days, until 
they made a little breach n the wall next unto the Water 
Gate, which, nevertheless, was not yet assaultable : for that 
which was broken in the day, was by them within the town 
ruade up again in the night, stronger than afore. But the 
batte was not begun there by the French because they in- 
tended to enter in that place ; but rather to abuse [deceive] the 
English, to have the less regard to the defence of the Castle : 
which was the weakest part of the tovn, and the place where 
they were we ascertained, by their espials, to win an easy ent. 
So that while our people travailed fondly to defend that 
counteffeit breach of the town wall, the Duke had in the 
mean season, planted fifteen double-cannons against the 
Castle. Which Castle being considered by the Rulers of 
the town tobe of no such force as might resist the battery of 
cannon, by reason that it was old, and without any rampires 
[ramparts] ; it was devised to make a train with certain 
barrels of powder to this purpose, that when the Frenchmen 
should enter, as they well knew, that there they would, to 
have fired the said train, and blovn up the Keep: and for 
that purpose left never a man within to defend it. But the 
Frenchmen, at their entry, espied the train, and so avoided 
the same. So that the device came to no purpose; and, 
without any resistance, they entered the Castle; and thought 
to have entered the town by that way. 



-G. Ferrer. 
176 SURRENDER OF CALAIS IN THREE DA¥S. I_ . ,s. 

But [on the 6th of ffanuary] by the prowess and hardy 
courage of Sir ANTttOI,,' AGER lA UCHER]., Knight [see Vol. I., 
abP • 33, 36], and Marshal of the Town, with his soldiers, they 
were repulsed and driven back again into the Castle: and 
followed so hard after, that our men forced them to close 
and shut the Castle gate for their surety, lest it should have 
been recovered against them. As it was once attempted 
[p. r99] by SirANTHONYAGER : xvhothere, with his son andheir, 
and a Pursuivant at Arms called C^L^XS, and divers others, to 
the number of fifteen or sixteen Englishmen, lost their lives. 
The saine night, after the recule [retreat] of the French- 
men, whose number so increased in the Castle, that the town 
was not able to resist their force ; the Lord \VENTWORTH, 
Deputy of Calais, sent a Pursuivant called GUXSNES, unto 
the Duke of GuisE, requiring composition ; which, after long 
debate, was agreed to, upon this sort. 
First. That the town,-with ail the great artillery, 
victuals and munition, should be freely yielded to the 
-French King. 
The lives of the inhabitants only saved; to whom sale 
conduct should be granted, to pass where they listed. 
Saving the Lord Deputy, with fifty others, such as the 
Duke should appoint, to remain prisoners; and be put 
to their ransom. 
The next morning [7lb of ffanuary], the Frenchmen entered 
and possessed the Town : and forthwith ail the men, women, 
and children, were commanded to leave their houses, and to 
go into the two churches, of Out Lady, and Saint Nicholas; 
upon pain of death. Where they remained a great part of 
that day, and one whole night, and until three o'clock at 
afternoon the next day [8th] : without either meat or drink. 
And while they were thus in the churches, the Duke of 
GuisE, in the naine of the French King, in their hearing, 
made a Proclamation straitly charging and commanding ail 
and every person that were inhabitants of the Town of 
Calais, having about them any money, plate, or jewels to the 
value of [but] one groat [4d.] to bring the saine forthwith, 
and lay it down on the high altars of the said churches, 
upon pain of death: bearing them in hand [inducing them 
to thfitk] also that they should be searched. 
By reason of which Proclamation, there was ruade a great 



C"F«rr«rs'7 TIE ENGLISH Exoi>us OUT OF CALAIS. I77 
t .568.J 

and sorrowful Offertory. And while they were at this offering 
within the churches, the Frenchmen entered into their 
houses, and rifled the same; where was found inestimable 
riches and treasure, but specially of ordnance, armour, and 
other munition. 
About two o'clock, the next day af afternoon, being the 
7th of January ; all the Englishmen, except the Lord Deputy 
and the others reserved for prisoners, were suffered tu pass 
out of the town in safety; being guarded through the army 
by a number of Scottish Light Horsemen. 
There were in this town of Calais, 500 English soldiers 
ordinarily, and no more: and of the townsmen, hOt fully 
200 fighting" men: a small garrison for the defcnce of such 
a town! And there were in the whole nurnber of men, 
women, and children, as they were counted when they went 
out of the gate, 4,200 persons. 
But the Lord W'ENTWORTH, Deputy of Calais ; Sir RALPH 
CHAMBERLAIN, Captain of the Castle; [JOHN] HARLESTONE, 
Captain of Risbank ; IICHOLAS ALEXANDER, Captain of 
Newn[h]ambridge; EDWARD CJRIMSTONE, Controller; with 
others of the chief of the town, tu the number of fifty, as 
aforesaid, such as it pleased the Duke of Guise tu appoint, 
were sent prisoners into France. 

Thus have ye heard the discourse of the Overthrow and 
Loss of the Town of Calais; the which enterprise was begun 
and ended in less than eight days, to the great marvel of 
the world, that a town of such strength, and so well 
furnished of ail things as that was, should so suddenly be 
taken and conquered : but most specially, in the winter 
season; what time ail the country about, being marsh 
ground, is commonly overflown with water. 
The said town was won from the French by Kin EDWARD 
III. in the time of PHILIP DE VALOIS, then French King: and, 
being in the possession of the Kings of England, 211 years ; 
was, in the time of PHILIP and lkIAR¥, King, and Queen of 
England, lost within less than eight days being the most 
notable fort that England had. 
For the winning whereof, King EDWARD aforesaid, in the 
2ist year of his reign [I346], was fain tu continue a siege une 
whole year or more : wherefore it was judged of all men, 
.A'G. GdR. IV, 12 



7 8 NEGLIGENCE OF QUEEN IIARY'S COUNCIL. [G. Frs. 
L  568. 

that it could not have so come to pass, without some secret 
treachery. 
Itere is also to be noted, that when Queen ][ARY and 
her Council heard, credibly, of the Frenchmen's sudden 
approach to that town; she, with all possible speed, but 
somewhat too late, raised a great power for the rescue 
thereof : which, if wind and weather had served, might, 
haply, have brought succour thither in time. But such 
terrible tempests then arose, and continued the space of four 
or rive days together, that the like had not been seen before 
in the remembrance of man; wherefore some said " That 
the same was done by necromancy, and that the Devil 
was raised up, and become French:" the truth whereof is 
known to GOD. But very truc it is that no ship could 
brook the seas, by reason of those extreme storms and 
tempests. And such of the Queen's ships as did adventure 
the passage, were so shaken and torn, with the violence of 
the veather ; as they were forced to return with great danger, 
and the loss of all their tackle and furniture. 
Thus by the negligence of the Council at home, conspiracy 
of traitors elsewhere, force and false practice of enemies, 
helped by the rage of most terrible tempests of contrary 
winds and weather; this famous Fort of Calais was brought 
again to the hands and possession of the French. 
So soon as this Duke of GUXSE, contrary to all expectation, 
had, in a feu" days, gained this strong town of Calais, afore 
thought impregnable, and had put the same in such order as 
best seemed for his advantage : proud of the spoil, and press- 
ing forward upon his sudden fortune, without giving long time 
to the residue of the Captains of the forts there to breathe 
on their business; the I3th of the same month, with all 
provision requisite for a siege, he marched with his army 
from Calais into the town and fort of Guisnes, rive miles 
distant from thence. 
Of which town and castle, at the same rime, there was as 
Captain, a valiant Baron of England, called WILLIA., Lord 
GIZEY of Wilton [See Vol. IH. p. 76]: who, not without 
cause suspecting a siege at hand; and knowing the town of 
Guisnes to be of small force (as being without walls or 
bulwarks, and only compassed with a trench), before the 
Frenchmen's arrival, caused all the inhabitants of the town 



G. Ferrers.-] THE DUIE 01 GUIS kTTACI,[S GUISNES. î9 

to advoid [dcart]; and so many of them as were apt to 
bear arms, he caused to retire into tbe Castle. "Which was 
a place well fortified, with strong and massy Bulwarks 
[redoubts or battcries] of brick: having also a high and mighty 
tower, of great force and strength, called the Keep. 
The town being thus abandoned, tbe Frenchman had thé" 
more easy approach to the Castle; who, thmking to find 
quiet lodging in those vacant houses, entered the same witb- 
out any fear: and being that night, at their rest as tbey 
thought, a chosen band of soldiers, appointed by Lord GREY, 
issued out by a postern of the said Castle, and slew no small 
number of their sleepy guests. The rest, they put out of 
their new lodgings ; and (maugre the Duke and all the French 
power) consumed all the houses of the town with tire. That 
notwithstanding, the said Duke, with ail diligence, began his 
trenches : and albeit the shot of the great artillery from the 
Castle was terrible, and gave him great impeachment; yet 
did he continue his work without intermission, and, for 
e..xample's sake, wrougbt in his own person as a common 
poneer or labourer. So that, within less than three days, 
he brought, to the number of thirty-five battery pieces, hard 
to the brim [edge] of the Castle ditch, to batter the same on 
all sides, as well right forth as across. But his principal 
battery, he planted against the strongest bulwark of ail, 
called Mary Bulwark la detachedfort]; thinking by gaining of 
the stronger, to corne more easily by the weakeï. 
His battery being tbus begun, he continued the saine by 
the space of two days, with such terrible thundering of great 
artillery, that, by the report of IF. DE] RABUTIN a French 
writer, there vere, in those few days, discharged well near 
to the number of 8,000 or 9,000 cannon shot. 
Through the violence whereof, by the 2oth of the said 
month, the said great Bulvark was laid vide open, and the 
breach ruade reasonable and easy enough for the assault; 
nevertheless, the said Duke (being a man of war, and nothing 
ignorant of what devices be commonly used in forts and be- 
sieged towns to entrap and damage the assailants) afore be 
would put the persons of his good soldiers to the hazard of 
the assault, caused the breach to be viewed once or twice by 
certain forward and skilful soldiers; who, mounting the top 
of the breach, brought report that tb.e place vas saultable 



I80 RENCH ASSAULTS ON THE I[ARY REDOUBT, l-O. Ferre. 
L  568. 

[assaultable]. Nevertheless, to make the climb more easy ; he 
caused certain harquebussiers to pass over the ditch, and to 
keep the defendants occupied with shot, while certain pioneers 
with mattocks and shovels, ruade the breach more plain and 
easy. [See CHURCHYARD'S acount of this assault at p. 209. He 
was one o[ the d,fenders.] 
Which thing done accordingly, he gave order to Monsieur 
D'ANDELOT, Colonel of the French Footmen, that he, with 
his Bands, should be in readiness to give the assault, when 
sign should be given. 
In which meantime, the Duke withdrew himself to an 
hiher ground ; ffoto whence he might plainly discover the 
behaviour as well of his soldiers in giving the assault, as also 
of the defendants in answering the saine. And hot perceiving 
so many of the English part appearing for the defence, as 
he looked for; he gave older forthwitb, that a regiment of 
his most forward Lance Knights [the Reiters] should mount 
the breach to open the first passage, and that Monsieur 
D'ANDELOT with his Bands of the French, should backthem. 
Which order was followed with such hot baste and des- 
perate hardiness, that, entering a deep ditch full of water, 
from the bottom whereof to the top of the breach was well 
forty feet, without fear either of the water beneath or the tire 
above, they mounted tbe bleach : and whereas the Duke had 
prepared divers bridges made of plank-boards, borne up with 
caske and empty pipes Il.e., barrels of the size of a »ipe] tied 
one to another, for his men to pass the said ditch ; many of 
the said assailants, without care of those bridges, plunged 
into the water, and took the next way to corne to the assault. 
\Vhich hot baste notwithstanding, the said assailants were, 
in this first assault, so stoutly repulsed and put back by the 
defendants, being furnished with great store of wild tire and 
fricasies for the purpose, that they were turned down headlong, 
one upon another, much faster than they came up : hot with- 
out great waste and slaughter of their best and most brave 
soldiers; to the sma]l comfort of the stout Duke, who, as is 
said before, stood, all this while, upon a little bill to behold 
this business. \Vherefore, hot enduring this sight any longer, 
as a man arraged [enraged], he ran among his men; so reproving 
some and encouraging others, that the assault was foot hot 
renewed with much more vehemence and fury than before: 



G. Ferrers.' 
 ȍ.] OUTSIDE THE CASTLE OF GUISNES. 

and with no less obstinacy and desperation received by the 
defendants; whereby all the breach underneath was fillêd 
with French carcases. 
This notwithstanding, the Duke still redoubled his forces 
with fresh companies ; and continued so many assaults, onê 
upon another, that at the last charge, being most vehement 
of ail others, our men being tired, and greatly minished in the 
numbêr by slaughtêr and bloody wounds, were, of fine [shecr] 
force, driven to avoid, and give place of entry to the enêmy. 
Which was hot done without a marvêllous êxpense of blood, 
on both sides. For, of the French part, there were slain and 
perished in thêse assaults, above the number of 800 or 900 
[CHURCHYARD says, al f. 214, 4,000] : and of the English, but 
little fewer [800,/. 214]; amongst whom the greatest loss 
lighted on the Spaniards, who took upon them the defence 
of the said Mary t3ulwark: insomuch, as the report went, 
that of the 500 [or rathcr 450 ; whereof but 5 ° were S,baniards, 
the rcst English and BmT, undians, ste p. 2o9] brave soldiers which 
King PHILIP sent thither for succour, under the conduct of a 
valiant Spanish Captain, called Mo:IT DRAOI, there were 
hot known to bave corne awav any number worth the reckon- 
ing, but all were either slain, maimed or taken. 
These outrageous assaults xvere given to the Castle of 
Guisnes, on St. Sebastian's day, the 2oth of January aforesaid. 
At the end of which day, there were also gained from the 
English, two other principal Bulwarks of the said Castle; 
which, being likewise ruade assaultable by battery, were 
taken by the Almains [? Swiss], who entered in by the breaches. 
The Lord GEç, xvith his eldest son, and the chief Captains 
and soldiers of the said garrison, who kept the Inner Ward of 
the Castle, where the most high and principal Tower, called 
the Keep, stood; thinking themselves in small surety there 
(being a place of the old sort of fortification) after they saw 
the Utter Ward possessed by the enemy, and such a number 
of the most forxvard soldiers consumed and spent; and no 
likelihood of any more aid to corne in time : by the advice of 
the most expert soldiers there, concluded for the best, to treat 
with the Duke for composition : according to the which advice, 
he sent forth two gentlemen, with this message in effect. That 
the Duke (being a man of war, and serving under a 
King) should not think it strange if the Lord GREY 



I-G. Ferrers. 
I82 LORD GRE¥ SURRENDERS GUISNES; L : I5L8. 

likewise (being a man of war, and serving his Prince, in 
manner) did his like deavour [endeavour] in well defending 
the place committed fo his charge, so far forth, as to 
answer and bide the assault; considering that otherwise, 
he could never save his own honour, neither his truth 
and loyalty to his Prince. In respect whereof, according 
to the law of arms, he required honourable composition. 
\Vhich message, though it vas well accepted of the Duke; 
yet he deferred his answer until the morrow. \Vhat [Af 
eJhich] time, the messengers repairing to him again, composi- 
tion xvas granted in this sort. 
First. That the Castle with ail the furniture thereof, 
as well victuals as great artillery, powder, and other 
munitions of war, should be wholly rendered ; without 
wasting, hiding, or minishment thereof. 
Secondarilv. That the Lord GREY, with all the 
Captains, Officers, and others having charge there, 
should remain prisoners, at the Duke's pleasure; to be 
ransomed affer the manner of war. 
Thirdly. That ail the rest, aswelI soldiers as others, 
should safely depart, with their armour and baggage to 
what parts, it seemed them best : nevertheless, to pass, 
without sound of drum or trumpet, or displaying of an 
ensigns [flags] ; but to leave them behind. 
These conditions being received and approved on either 
party, the day following, that is to wit, the 22nd da 3" of the 
said month of January, ail the soldiers of the said fortress, as 
well English as strangers, with all the rest of the inhabitants 
and others (except the Lord GREY, Sir AR'rI4UR his son, Sir 
HENRY PaLME Knight, MOUNT DaON the above named 
Captain of the Spaniards, and other men of charge reserved by 
the Composition) departed, with their bag and baggages, from 
thence, towards Flanders. At whose issuing forth, there was 
esteemed [estimated] to the number of 8o0 or 9oo able men for 
the war: part English, part I3urgundians, with a small 
remnant of Spaniards. 
After the winning ofthis town and Castle, the Duke, advis- 
ing well upon the place, and considering that if it should 
happen to be regained by Englishmen, what a noisome 
neighbour the saine might be to Calais, now being French; 
and specially what impeachment should come thereby for the 



G. Ferers.- l 
WHICH IS THEN RAZED TO TIIE GROUND. 18 3 
? 

passage thither from France; considering also the near 
standing thereof to the French King's fortress of Ardes, so 
that to keep two garrisons so nigh together should be but a 
double charge, and not only needless, but also dangerous, for 
the cause afore rehearsed : upon these considerations, as the 
Frenchmen write, he took order for all the great artillery, 
victuals, and otber munition to be taken forth; and the 
Castle, vith all the Bulwarks and other fortifications there, 
to be razed and thrown down, with ail speed, and the stuff to 
be carried away, and employed in other more necessary places. 
Then there rested nothing, within all the English Pale on 
that side, unconquered, but the little Castle or Pile called 
Hammes : which, though it were but of small force, ruade by 
art and industry of man's hand, and altogether of old work- 
manship, without rampiers Iramparts] or Bulwarks [redoubts]; 
yet, nevertheless, by the natural situation thereof, being en- 
vironed on all sides, with fens and marsh grounds, it could hot 
easily be approached unto: either with great ordnance for the 
battery, or else with an army to encamp there, for a siege ; 
having but olle straight passage thereto by a narrow causey 
[causeway], traversed and cut through, in divers places, with 
deep ditches always full of water. Which thing, being well 
foreseen by E)wAI) Lord DVDLEY, then Captain there, hav- 
ing as good cause to suspect a siege there as his neighbours, 
had, afore the Frenchmen's coming to Guisnes, caused all the 
bridges of the said causey, which were of wood, to be broken ; 
to give thereby the more impeachment [obstacles] to the French, 
if they should attempt to approach the same ; as, shortly 
after, they did, and kept divers of the passages. 
But to deliver the Duke and his soldiers from that care, 
there came to him glad news from those that had charge to 
watch the same causey ; how the Captain, having intelligence 
of the rendering of Guisnes, had conveyed himself with his 
small garrison, secretly, the same night [ofthe 22n,/o.[.amtary] 
by a secret passage over the marshes into Flanders. Where- 
by, the Duke, being now past care of any further siege to be 
laid in all that frontier, took order forthwith to seize the said 
little fort into his hands; as it was easy to do, when there 
vas no resistance. 
\Vhen this place was once seized by the French, then 
remained there none other place or strength of the English on 



I8 4 THE FRENCH KING ¥ISITS CALAIS FG. Fer,ets. 
• L ? *568. 

all that side the sea, for the safeguard of the rest of the 
country: whereby the French King became wholly and 
thoroughly Lord and Master of all the En,lish Pale : for now, 
as ye have heard, there was neither town, castle, or fortress, 
more or less, on that side (saving Bootes Buhvark, near to 
Gravelines; which noxv, [in 1568 ] King PHILIP keepeth as 
his) ; but it was either taken away by force, or else abandoned 
and left open to the enemy. And, as the Frenchmen write, 
besides the great riches of gold and silver coin, jewels, plate, 
wool, and other merchandise (which was inestimable [i.e., 
bcyond reckoni,g]) there were round 300 pieces of brass, 
mounted on wheels, and as many pieces of iron : with such 
furniture of powder, pellets [bullets], armour, victuals, and 
other munitions of war, scarcely credible [see p. 250_]. 
Thus bave heard the whole discourse of the Conquest of 
the noble town of Calais with all the English fortresses and 
country adjoining, ruade by the Duke of GUISE. The news 
whereof', when it came to the French King: [there is] no need 
to ask how joyfully it was received ! hOt only by him and ail 
his Court, but also universally through the whole realm of 
France. For the which victory, there was, as the manner is, 
Te DEUM sung, and bonfires ruade everywhere, as it is 
wont to be in cases of common joy and gladness for some 
rare benefit of GOD. Shortly, upon this conquest, there was 
a public Assembly at Paris of all the Estates of France : who 
frankly (in recompense of the King's charges in winning 
Calais and the places aforesaid, and for maintenance of his 
wars to be continued afterwards) granted unto him 3,000,000 
of French Crowns [=about 9oo,ooo then  about 9,ooo,ooo 
now]; whereof the ciergy of France contributed I,OOO,OOO 
[crowns] besides their dîmes. 
And no marvel though the French did highly rejoice at the 
recovery of Calais out of the Englishmen's hands ! For it is 
constantly affirmed by many that be acquainted with the affairs 
of France, that ever since the town was first won by the 
Englishmen, in all solemn Councils appointed to treat upon 
tbe state of France, there was a special person appointed to 
put them in remembrance, from rime to rime, of Calais: as it 
were to be wished that the like were used in England until it 
were regained ff'oto the French. 
Now seemed every day a year, to the French King, until he 



G'Ferrer''-]T"" IARRIAGE OF [ARY, OUEEN OF SCOTS. I8 5 

personally had visited Calais and his new conquered country. 
Wherefore, about the end of January, aforesaid, he took his 
voyage thither, accompanied with no small number of his 
nobility. And immediately upon his arrival there, he perused 
the whole town and every part thereof, from place to place : 
and devising with the Duke of GVlSE for the better fol'tifica- 
tion thereof; what should be added to the old, what should 
be made new, and what should be taken away. And after 
order taken for that business; he placed there a noble and 
no less valiant Knight, called Monsieur DE THERMES, to be 
Captain of the town : and so departed again to France. 
After the French King's departure from Calais, he made 
great baste for the accomplishment of the marriage moved 
between FRaNCIS, his eldest son, called the I)auphin, and 
MArY SXUART, daughter and sole heir of JAMES V., late 
King of Scotland: which Princess (if the Scots had been 
faithful of promise, as thev seldom be) should have married 
with King EDWARD VI. ior the breach of which promise, 
began all the war between England and Scotland, in the latter 
end of King HENR VIII. and in the beginning of EDWARD 
VI. [Sec IATTEN's account of thc Wooing, I'ol. III. p. 5I.J 
This marriage (though it be not my matter) I thought hot 
to omit ; for many things were meant thereby, xvhich, thanks 
be to GOD ! never came to pass. I3ut one special point was 
hot hidden to the world, that, by the means of the saine, the 
Realm of Scotland should, for evermore, have remained as 
united and incorporated to the Cl'own of France; that as 
the Son and Heir of every French King doth succeed to the 
inheritance and possession of a country, called the Doulphyn 
[DauphinC, and is therefore called Doulphyn [Dauphin] ; and 
as the Principality of Wales appertaineth to the Eldest Son of 
England,who is therefore called the Prince of WALnS: even so, 
that the Dauphin and Heir of France should thereby have been 
King of Scotland, for evermore. \Vhich naine and title, upon 
this marriage, was accordingly given to FaNClS the Dauphin 
and heir apparent of France, to be called " King Dauphin " - 
the meaning whereof was, utterly to exclude for evermore any 
fo be King of Scotland, but only the Eldest Son of France. 
This memorable marriage was solemnized in the city of 
Paris, the 24th day of April, 1558 , with most magnificent 
pomp and triumph. 



186 

Lord W . N r w o R r H, the Lord Deputy 
of Calais, and the Council there. 

Letter to .xueen MAx ', 23rd May, t 557. 

[Star," t'alSers. Foreggn, 21'ARI; "oL .i .. 65. In PuMic Recor ONce.] 
T may please your Highness to understand that, 
where upon circumspect consideration and view 
of your Majesty's store here of munition and 
other habiliments of war, there is presently [af 
this moment] round not only a great vant of many 
kinds thereof, but also such a decay in divers other things 
as tbe saine are not serviceable, and will be utterly lost 
if they be not with speed repaired and put in better estate ; 
as this bearer, Master }{IGHFIELD, Master of your Ordnance 
here [. 96], can declare more amply the particularities 
thereof, either unto your Majesty, or unto such of your 
Council as shall please your Highness to direct him: we 
lave thought it out bounden duties to be most humble 
suitors to your Majesty, that it would piease the saine to 
give immediate order, as well for the supplement of the said 
lacks, as also for your warrant to be addressed hither, for the 
repairing of ail other things requisite to be done within his 
OCe. 
And thus we continuaIly pray Almighty GOD for the long 
preservation of your Highness in most prosperous estate. 
From your town of Calais, the 23rd of May, 1557. 
Your Majesty's 
Most humble bounden and obedient subjets and se,ants, 
VENTXVORTH, VILLIAM GREY, 
ALPH CHAMBERLAIN, A. CORNVALLIS, 
DWARD GRYMSTONE, USTACE HOBYNTON. 



Lords WF.IrwoR'rH and GRF.V, and the 
Council at Calais. 

Report to 
2 7 th December, I 5 5 7. 
[.çtate Pa.kers. Foreign, ;.4R I', roL '1. 2'o. 698. 
U bounden duties most humbly remembered unto 
your Highness. Upon the receipt of the intelli- 
gences sent unto yo,ur Majesty this other dav, 
ri'oto me vour Grace s Deputy; I torthwith di- 
' patched t) my Lord G'¢ [at Guisnes], requiring 
his Lordship to repair to this town, that we might consult 
ofthe state of your Highness's places and country on this side. 
So his Lordship coming hither, we bave conterred together 
out several intelligences: and finding the saine in effect to 
agree, it hath very much augmented out suspicion that this 
train [design] now meant by the enemy, should be marie 
towards your Highness's country or pieces. \Vhereupon ve, 
all together, have considered the state of the saine; and 
said out opinions therein, as it may appear unto your High- 
ness by these articles which we send herewith to your 
Majesty, which we bave thought out duties to signit)" unto 
you. Most humbly beseeching your Highness to return 
unto us your pleasure therein. 
So, we pray Jwsç, grant your Majesty long and prosperous 
reign. 
At your town of Calais, z7th December, x557- 
Your Highness's, &c. 

01tf Consu[lalion, m«tt[e lhe  7lb Z)«cembcz;  557. 

First. 

GUISNES. 
AVlIG no supplement of men other than is 
I presently there, we think it meetest, i the 
enemy should give the attempt, to abandon 
the Town (which could not be, without very 
great danger of the Castle); and deiend the Turnpike, 



I88 REPORT "FO OUEEN... IARY. [The Lord Oeputyand Cou.c;1,at Calot*, "7 Dec. 'SST- 

which is of the more importance, because that way only, 
in necess!ty, the relief to the Castle is to be looked for. 
Item. Tbere s great want of wheat, butter, cheese, and 
othcr victuals. 
Itcm. It is requisite to have some men of estimation and 
service to be there [i.e., ai Guisnes], that might be able 
to take the charge in hand ; if either sickness or other 
accident should fortune to me the Lord GREY: which 
I, the said Lord GRY the rather require, by reason of 
Sir HENRY PALMER'S hurt ; being of any other person 
at this present utterly unfurnished. 

t-I A M PN E S CA S T L E. 
Ilcm. E THINK the same sufficiently furnished of men 
I[,t for the sudden; albeit this hard and frosty 
I[tl weather, if it continue, will give the enemy 
'--. great advantage: yet we put in as much 
water as s possible. 
Of victuals, that place is utterly unprovided; except 
the Captain's store. 
That we also thought meet to have there some man of 
estimation and service, for the respects contained in the 
article of Guisnes: which also the Lord Dçrr 
requires. 
N EWN AM BRIDGE. 
Itcm. --------E THINK it meet, upon the occasion, to with- 
I,fl draw the bands [co,,@anies of soldicrs] from the 
I] Causeway thither; and then are of opinion, 
'' the saine to be sufficient to defend that piece 
for a season ; unless the enemy shall get between this 
town and the b,idge. 
It is clean without victuals, other than the Captain's 
own provision. 
RYSBANK. 
ECAUSE that place standeth upon the sea, and by 
the shore side, may the enemy corne in a night to 
it: we think it meet to appoint hither a band 
[compmO,] of the low country [the @ch district round 
Calais, wilhin the English 1Sale] under the leading of 
Captain Dot)B. 



TheLordDeputyandCouncil,-] REPORT TO OUEEN ]IARY. 180 
at Calais, 7 Dec. J557-1  

It is altogether unfurnished of victuals, other than for 
the Captain's own store. 

CALAIS. 
HEREAS all your Majesty's pieces on this side, make 
account to be furnished of victuals and other 
necessaries from hence; it is so, that of victuals 
your Highness hath presently none here: and also 
this town hath none, by reason that the restraint in the 
realm hath been so strait as the victuallers (as were 
wont to bring daily hither good quantities of butter, 
cheese, bacon, wheat, and other things) might not, of 
late, be suffered to have any recourse hither ; whereby 
is grown a very great scarcity of all such things here. 

Finally.  ORASMUCH as ail ,the wealth and substance 
[ l of your Majesty s whole dominion on this 
i]] side, is now in your low country (a thing 
"-'-----' hot unknown to the enemy) : and if with 
this his great power, coming down (as the bruit goeth) 
for the victualling of Ardes, he will give attempt on your 
Highness's cou.ntry; we do hot sec that the small 
number here, in respect of their force, can, by any 
means, defend it. 
And if we should stand to resist their entry into the 
country [the @ch district], and there receive any loss or 
overthrow ; the country should nevertheless be overrun 
and spoiled: and besides it would set the enmny in a 
glory, and also be the more peril to your Highness's 
pieces [towns]. We therefore, upon the necessity, think 
it meet to gather ail our men into strengths [fortresses] ; 
and with the saine to defend your pieces to the utter- 
most. 
Notwithstanding, all the pover on this side is insuffi- 
tient to defend the pieces, in case the enemy shall tarry 

any space in the field. 
"VENTWORTH, 
ANTHONY tUCHAR, 
EDVARDE GRIMESTONE, 
EUSTACE HOBYNGTON. 

WILLIAM GREY) 
JoH HaLESTO, 
N. ALEXANDER, 



190 

Lord W E N T W 0 R T H, at Calais. 

Letter to ..ueen MAX r, I anuary,  558, 
9 p.m. 
[State Pal*erg. Foreign, . R Y, Vol. -li. .Vo. . 
[One cannot belp seeing tbat in this and tbe next letter, Lord WENT- 
WOTH, quite hopeless of any stccessfld attempt, was trying to make 
things look as pleasant as he could to the Queen.] 
T M AY P L E A S E YO U R H I G H N ESS, 
 1 having retired the Bands from the Causeway the 
t 1 last night [3x Dece,,,bcr 557); and placed them at 
 the Bridge at Newhavcn or A ewnham] and within 
the Brayes Il.c., Calais walls] : this morning early, 
I returned them to the said Causeway, to defend that passage 
in case the enemy would attempt to enter there ; and also to 
offer skirmish to take some of them, and to learn somewhat 
of their power. 
Between nine and ten, the enemy shmved in a very great 
bravery about six ensigns [regimcnts] of footmen, and certain 
horsemen; and came from the Chalk Pits down the hill 
towards the Causmvay. Whereupon some of ours issued 
and offered the skirmish; but the enemy vould in no wise 
seem to meddle. 
During this their stillness, they caused about zoo harque- 
bussiers to cut overthe marsh from Sandgate and get between 
ours and the Bridge, and then to have hotly set on them on 
both sides. In this time also, at a venture, I had caused 
your Majesty's Marshal, vith the horsemen, to go abroad, 
and maintain the skirmish xvith the footmen: and by that 
[rime] the Marshal came there, the enemy's harquebussiers 
that passed the marshes were discovered; and ours took a 
very honest retire. Which the enemies on the land side per- 
ceiving, came on, both horsemen and footmen, marvellously 
hotly; to whom ours gave divers onsets, continually skir- 
mishing till they came to the Bridge, and there reposed 
themselves. The bridge bestoxved divers shot upon the 
enemy, and hm some. Of ours, thanked be GOD ! none slain 
nor hurt, save a man-at-arms stricken in the leg xvith a currion. 



Lord Wentworth.- T t-r E 
xjan. x558...i,., FIRST APPEARANCE OF TtlE FRENCH. I91 

The alarm continued till one o'clock in the afternoon; 
before the end whereof our enemy's number increased: for 
eleven ensigns more of footmen came in sight, and three 
troops of horsemen. 
t3esides, the alarm went round about out country at that 
instant, even from Sandgate to Guisnes; and bands of the 
enemy at every passage. 
They have gotten Froyton Church, and plant themselves 
at ail the streights [passagcs] into this country. The bulvarks 
[ ? earth works] of Froyton and Nesle have this day done their 
duty very well; to whom I have this afternoon sent aid oi 
men, and some shot and powder. Howbeit I am in some 
doubt of Nesle this night. 
I ara perfectly advertised, their number of horsemen and 
footmen already arrived is above I2,OOO ; whereof little less 
have corne in sight here. The Duke of GUISE is not 3"et 
arrived, but [is] hourly looked for with a more [greatîr] 
number. 
This evening, I have discovered 5o0 vaggons ladened wïth 
victuals and munition ; and bave further perfect intelligence, 
that thirty cannons be departed from Boulogne hitherwards. 
They Il.e., the Frcnch army] are settled at Sandgate, Galley 
Moat, Causeway, Froyton, Calkewell, Nesle, and Syntrecase. 
At one o'clock after midnight, I look for them ; being lov 
water at the passage over the haven. 
Thus having set all things in the best order I can, I make 
an end of three days' work; and leave your Majesty to con- 
sider for our speedy succour. I3eseeching GOD to grant 
your Highness victory, with long and prosperous reign. 
At your town of Calais, this New Year's Day, at nine of 
the night, 1557. 
I have received your Majesty's letter [of 3Ist Dcccmber] by 
[JOHN HIGHFIELI)] Master of the Ordnance [at Calais], who 
came in this morning. The contents whereof I follow as 
near as I can. 
Your Highness's 
Most humble and obedient servant and subject, 
x,V E N TWO RTH. 



Lord W E N T w 0 R T H at Calais. 

Letter to ueen Ma x Y, 2 anuary,  5 5 8, 
I 0 
FTER my humble duty remembered, it may please 
your Highness. This last night out enemies lay 
still, without anything attempting in the places 
mentioned in my last letters; as we did well 
perceive, during the whole night, by great rires 
ruade in the saine places. 
This morning early, I put out fresh footmen to the Bridge, 
to relieve the watched men. 
About nine a dock, the enemies in very great number 
approached the Bridge, and offered the skirmish : whereupon 
issued out some of our harquebussiers and bowmen, and kept 
them in play, with the help of the shot from the Bridge, mooe 
than an hour; and in the end, being overmatched with 
multitude, ruade their retire with the Turnpike, without any 
loss or hurt. The enemies shadowing [shdtering] themselves 
under the turnpike wall, with their curriors (which assuredly 
shot very great bullets, and carry far)kept themselves in 
such surety, as our pieces of the Bridge could hot annoy 
them, till at eleven o'clock, certain of ours, bored holes with 
augets through the turnpike, and with harquebusses beat 
them out into the shot of ordnance, and so ruade them retire 
to the Causeway. 
This forenoon, certain Swiss and Frenchmen, to the 
number of 500, got within the marshes betveen Froyton and 
Nesle bulwarks : and the men of the Bulwarks seeing them- 
selves to be compassed on ail sides, and seeing also that time 
yet served them well to depart ; and (fearing they should hOt 
so do, if they tarried till they were assailed on both sides, as 
they could hot indeed), forsook their Bulwarks, and right 
manfully, notwithstanding their enemies between them and 
home, saved themselves through the marshes. In the retire 
of. the enemies, one COOKSON, a man-at-arms, and fev other 
soldiers, with the countrymen, rescued most part of the 



Lord Wentworth.'l 
2Jan. xsss.l 35, OOO FRENCH AND SWISS SOLDIERS. i93 

booty (which was certain kine); and took three prisoners of 
the Captain of Abbeville's Band. 
The report of this enterprise of the enemy being brought 
to me, fearing Colham Hill, I forthwith appointed your 
Majesty's Marshal with the Horsemen, and 2oo footmen to 
repair thither; and as they should sec their match, so to 
demean themselves. Ere these men had marched a quarter 
of a mile, the enemies were retired out of the country, upon 
occasion that wading, as they entered in, up to the girdle 
stead; and perceiving the water to increase, [they] thought 
good to make a speedy return : and nevertheless, for ail their 
haste, went up to the breast. And if they had tarried a little 
longer, I had put in so much water, as I think would have 
put them over head and ears : and, GOD willing, at the next 
tide, I will take in more. 
This afternoon, they bave been quiet, and we, in the 
meantime, be occupied in cutting up of passages to let in 
more water about the Bridge and that part of the marshes; 
whereby the enemies shall have very iii watering. 
I would also take in the sait water about the town [of 
Calais], but I cannot do it, by reason I should infect our 
own vater wherewith we brew: and, notwithstanding ail I 
can do, our brewers be so behindhand in grinding and other- 
wise, as we shall find that one of our greatest lacks. I 
therefore make all the baste and provision I can there, and 
howsoever the matter go, must shortly be forced to let in 
the salt water. 
The three men taken to-day be very ragged, and ill-ap- 
pointed. In examining, they confess that " there is great 
misery in their camp, and great want of money and victuals." 
They say (and I partly believe it, because it almost appeareth 
to me), "their number to be 25,ooo footmen, whereof IO,OOO 
[are] Swiss; and IO,OOO horsemen. The Duke of GUISE 
is already among them, and the only deviser and leader of 
this enterprise." They say also, "a shot from the Bridge- 
way to the Causeway yesterday, struck off the Master of the 
Camp's leg, called Captain OOURDAVLT." 
I am also perfectly advertised, both by these men and 
otherwise, that they have no great ordnance yet corne, but 
look for it daily by sea. It is eighty pieces, whereof thirty be 
cannons: and are laden, with munition and victuals, in 14o 
&vo. a4. IV. I3 



1 94 SI'AIIS HARQUEI3USSIERS AT ST. OMER. [L,rd Wentwo,th. 
 Jan. 1558. 

vessels which shall land at Sandgate; or rather I think at 
Boulogne, it to be taken out of great ships [there], and so 
again embarked at Sandgate in lesser vessels, as they have 
done most part of their victuals and carriage that they have 
hitherto occupied [uscd]. And, surely, if your Majesty's ships 
had been on this shore, they might either have letted 
[hindered] their voyage ; or, at the least, very much hindered 
it: and not unlike[lyJ to have distressed them, being only 
small boats. Their ordnance that cornes, shall be conveyed 
in the saine sort: it may therefore please your Majesty to 
consider it. 
I bave also now fully discovered their enterprise ; and ara 
(as a man may be) most sure they will first attempt upon 
Rysbanke ; and that way chiefly assail the town. Marry ! I 
think they lie hovering in the country, for the coming of 
their great artillery, and also to be masters of the sea. 
And therefore I trust your Highness will haste over ail things 
necessary for us with expedition. 
Under your Majesty's reformation [correction], I think, if 
you please to set the passage at liberty for ail men to corne 
that would, bringing sufiïcient victuals for themselves for a 
season ; I am of opinion there would be enow, and with more 
speed than can be ruade by order. Marry] then must 
it well be foreseen to transport with expedition, victuala 
hither. 
I have written to the King's Majesty [PHILIP II.] of the 
enemies being here: and was bold humbly to beseech his 
Majesty to give commission to the governors of his frontiers 
[that] I might, in necessity, upon my letter, have 300 or 
400 harquebussiers, Spaniards, that now be placed about St. 
Orner; whereof I thought it my duty to advertise your 
Majesty, for your pleasure, whether I may write to the 
Governors to that effect, upon his Majesty's answer, and 
take them or hOt ? 
I, with the test of the Council here, are forced to put vour 
Majesty to some charges: for having taken in a conf'used 
number of countrymen [i.e., pcasantry within the Enflish Pale], 
we must needs reduce them to order, and the commoners 
also; and bave therefore called them into wages, and 
appointed Captains of the fittest men that presently [at this 
'moment] be here. 



Lord XVentworth.] "VENTWORTH'S LAST LETTER TO lXI.RV. I95 
Jan. x558._1 

I have placed DODD with his Band in Rysbank, and the 
rest of the extraordinary [i.e., voluntcer] Bands be at the 
Bridge, and in the Brayes of this town. 
As I was making this discourse, six Ensigns [regiments] of 
footmen, and certain Bands [tro@s] of horsemen, came from 
Sandgate by the downs, within the sight of Rysbank: on 
whom, that piece, and this tovn also, bestoved divers shots. 
This evening, they have ruade their approach to Rysbank, 
xvithout any artillery : and, as far as I can perceive, do mind 
to make the assault with ladders, hurdles, &c., and other 
things, and that way get it. 
At Calais, the end of January, at ten in the night, 1557. 

As I was in communication with your Mayor and Alder- 
men, touching the state of this town (whom I find of marvel- 
lous good courage, and ready to live and die in this town), I 
received letters from my Lords of the Council, of your 
Majesty's aid provided for us. 
I fear this shall be my last letter, for that the enemy will 
stop my passage ; but I will do what I can tidily [duly from 
rime fo time] to signify unto your blajesty, our state. 
Your Majesty's most humble and obedient 
servant and subject, 
W IN TWO RTH. 



I96 

J o   H i c H F  F. .,, Master of the 
Ordnance at Calais. 

To the ,.een, our sovereign Lady. 

[Lord I-I,a, RDWICK'S lffiscellaneo*s S/are ta2er, i. zx4. Ed. x788.] 
LEASETH it your Highness to understand the 
Declaration of your humblest and faithful servant 
JOHN HIGHFIELD, concerning the besieging and 
loss of your Grace's town of Calais. 
First, being appointed by your most honourable 
Council [i.e., the Privy Cozmcil in London] to repair into 
2.ngland [on the prcvious 23rd May, sec 13. 186] ; I came. And 
after some intelligence that the French Army drew towards 
the English Pale, I was commanded to return vith diligence 
to my charge at Calais; and I arrived there on New Year's 
Day in the morning, the enemy being encamped about 
Sandgate. 
The said morning, after I had delivered letters to my 
Lord Deputy, from your Grace's said Council, the said Lord 
Deputy told me how the alarm vas ruade the night before, 
and also what he thought meet for me to be donc for the 
better furniture of those fortresses which vere in most 
danger, as the Bulwarks of the High Country [Froyton and 
Nesle], Guisnes, Newhaven Bridge, and Rysbank: and also 
for the defence of the Lmv Country, because his Lordship 
thought their enterprise had tended only to the spoil thereof. 
Then I showed that there was a sufiïcient store of all muni- 
tions, and that I would senti to all places as need required; 
which was donc. 
Itcm. On Sunday following [2nd .anuary, I558_], we per- 
ceived the French ordnance was brought to their camp; 
whereby appeared that the enemy meant to batter some 
place: and thereupon were two mounts repaired for the 
better defence. At the saine time, I desired to have some 
pioneers appointed to help the cannoneers, vho were not 
forty in r/umber, for the placing and entrenching of our great 
ordnance ; which pioneers I could never get. 



J.][-Iighfie|d.'] AI ARTILLERIST'S VIEW OF TIIE SIEGE. i97 
? Marèh x558. A 

The same day, the enemy forced our men to forsake the 
Bulwarks of the High Country. And then it was moved to 
my Lord Deputy that the sea might be let in, as well to 
drown the Causeway beyond Newhaven Bridge, as also 
other places about the town : wherein was answered, " Not 
to be necessary without more appearance of besieging," and 
because that "the sea being entered in, should hinder the 
pastures of the cattle, and also the brexving of the beer." 
The same day, my Lord took order that victuals and other 
necessaries should be sent to Newhaven Bridge for six days; 
which was done. • 
Itcm. On Monday [3rd yammry] in the morning, my Lord 
Deputy, with tbe rest of the Council there, perceiving that 
the enemy intended to appl'oach nearer, were in doubt 
whether they might abandon the Low Country: and by 
advice, my Lord gave order that the Bailiff of Marke should 
appoint the servants and women of the Low Country, with 
their superfluous cattle, to draw (if need happened) into the 
Flemish Pale; and the said Bailiff with his best men, to 
repair to Marke Church, and there to abide further orders. 
The same morning before day, the enemy had ruade their 
approaches, and did batter both Newhaven Bridge and the 
Rysbank ; which were given up before nine o'clock. 
The Captain of Newhaven Bridge had word sent him that 
if he saw no remedy to avoid the danger, that then he should 
retire with his company into the Town. 
The Captain of Rysbank did, about the same time, 
surrender ; because, as he told me since, his pieces were ail 
dismounted, and the soldiers very loth to tarry at the breach : 
wherein I know no more. 
But after the enemy was entered, I cause the said 
Rysbank to be battered ; and when my Lord saw how little 
it profited, he commanded to cease. 
The saine day, the passages being both lost, the enemy 
planted their ordnance on the Sand Hill, to batter the north 
side of the town; and then I moved my Lord to call in as 
many countrymen [English lbeasantry] as he could, and to 
appoint them Captains and their several quarters, for the 
relief of those which did most commonly watch and attend 
on the walls. Who answered, " He had determined already 
so to do." Howbeit the women did more labour [watch] 



I98 THE FRENCH ATTACK ON THE Tow. F J'Highfidd" 
[.9 l|arch i558. 

about the ramparts than the said countrymen; which, for 
lack of order in rime, did absent themselves in houses and 
other secret places. 
The same evening, Captain S^LItrES [or SELLYN] came 
into Calais ; whereupon the people rejoiced, hoping some suc- 
cour: but after that rime, it was too late to receive help by land, 
because the French horsemen were entered the Low Çountry. 
Item. On Tuesday [4lb ffanuary] in the mormng, the 
enemy began their battery to the Town ; on xvhich side I had 
placed fourteen brass pieces. Howbeit, xvithin short rime, 
the enemy having so commodious a place, did dismount 
certain of our best pieces, and consumed some of the 
gunners, xvhich stood very open for lack of mounds and 
good fortification. For if the rampart had been finished, 
then might divers pieces have been brought from other 
places; which were above sixty in number, ready mounted : 
but lacking convenient place, and chiefly cannoneers and 
pioneers, it was hard to displace the French battery. Which 
counter battery could not have been maintained for lack of 
powder. For, at the beginning, having in store, 4oo barrels; 
I found there xvas spent within rive days, oo. 
Item. On Wednesday [5th ffanuary], the enemy continued 
their battery on the town, without great hurt done, because 
they could hOt beat the foot of the wall, for that the cotrem,tre 
was of a good height, and ve reinforced the breach, in the 
night, with timber, wool, and other marrer sufficiently; and 
we looked that the enemy would have attempted the assault 
the saine evening; whereupon I caused two flankers to be 
ruade ready, and also placed two bombards, by the help of 
the soldiers, appointing weapons and fireworks to be in readi- 
ness at the said breach. At vhich time, my Lord commanded 
the soldiers of the garrison to keep their ordinary wards, and 
Master GRIMSTON to the breach with the residue of the best 
soldiers. And then my Lord exhorted ail men to fight, vith 
other good words as in such cases appertaineth. And my 
Lord told me, divers times, that " although there came no 
succour ; yet he would never yield, nor stand to answer the 
loss of such a town." 
Item. On Thursday [6t..t ffanuary], began one other battery 
to the Castle; which being a high and weak wall without 
ramparts, vas ruade [as]saultable the same day. Whereupon, 



J. Highfield.-] THEIR ATTACK ON TItE CASTLE 199 
. llarch xS58-J " 

the Captain of the Castle desired some more help to defend 
this breach, or else to know vhat my Lord thought best in 
that behalf. Then, after long debating, my Lord determined 
to have the towers overthrown, which one SAULLE took upon 
him to do ; notwithstanding, I said openly that " if the Castle 
were abandoned, it should be the loss of the Town." 
The same night, my Lord appointed me to be at the breach 
of the town with him: and, about eight of the clock, the 
enemy waded over the haven, at the low water, with certain 
harquebussiers, to view the breaches; and, coming to the 
Castle, found no resistance, and so entered. Then the said 
SAULLE failed to give tire unto the train of powder [see lb. 204]. 
Then my Lord, understanding that the enemy were en- 
tered into the Castle, commanded me to give order for battering 
of the Castle; vhereupon incontinent there were bent three 
cannons and one saker [p. 251 ] before the gate, to beat the 
bridge; which, being in tbe night, did not greatly annoy. 
The same time, Master Marshall [Sir A2VTI-IO2Vr A UCI-IER, 
see p. 176] with divers soldiers, came towards the Castle, 
lest the enemy should enter the town also. And after we had 
skirmished upon the bridge, seeing no remedy to recover 
the Castle, we did burn and break the said bridge : and there 
was a trench immediately cast before the Castle, which was 
[the] only help at that time. 
Within one hour after, upon necessity of things, [my Lordi 
determined to send a trumpet with a herald, declaring that 
" If the Frenchmen would send one gentleman, then he would 
send one other in gage." \Vhereupon my Lord sent for me, 
and commanded that I should go forth of the town for the 
same purpose; wherein I desired his Lordship that he would 
send some other, and rather throw me over the walls. Then 
he spake likewise to one WINDEBANKE, and to MASSINGBERD, 
as I remember, which were both to go unto such service. 
Then my Lord sent for me again, in PEYI'ON'S house; and 
being eftsoons commanded by the Council there, I went forth 
with a trumpet [trumpeter], and received in a French gentle- 
man: who, as I heard, was brought to my Lord Deputy's 
house, and treated upon some Articles; vhich were brought, 
within one hour, by one HALL, merchant of the staple. 
Then Monsieur D'AII)ELOT entered the tovn with certain 
French gentlemen ; and the said HALL and I were brought to 



200 IS AN ENGLISH GAGE IN TItE FRENCH CAMP. [- J" Hi»hfield. 
L? March x558, 

Monsieur I)E GUISE, who lay in the sand hills by Rysbank, 
and there the said HALL delivered a bill: and we were sent 
to Monsieur D'ESTREES' tent. 
The Friday after [Tth yanuary, Monsieur I)'ESTREES told 
me that my Lord Deputy had agreed to tender the town with 
loss of ail the goods, and fifty prisoners to remain. 
On Saturday [Sth .anuary], he brought me into the town, 
willing me to tell him what ordnance, powder, and other 
bouses did belong unto my office ; because he would reserve 
the saine from spoiling by the French soldiers. And after he 
had knowledge that all my living was on that side [i.e., he had 
only his Mastership of the Ordnance af Calais], he was content 
that I should depart into Flanders. 
Notwithstanding, I was driven off till Wednesday, [I2th 
.anuary]. Then he said, " He would send me away, if I 
would promise him to make suit that his son might be re- 
turned in exchange for the Captain of the Castle," who, being 
prisoner, desired me also to travail in it, for he would rather 
give 3,000 crowns [--£900 then--about £9,000 now], than re- 
main a prisoner. Whereupon I promised to inquire and 
labour in the saine matter to the best of my power. 
On my said return into the town, I round my wife, which 
showed me that, in my absence, she had bestowed my money 
and plate to the value of £6oo [--about £6,ooo now] ; which 
was round before my coming, saving one bag with 35 ° crowns 
[=£IOS--about £I,OOO nowj, which I offered to give unto 
Monsieur D'ESTREES if he would promise me, on his honour, 
to despatch me on horseback to Gravelines [then held by the 
Saniards]. Which he did. 
And there I met with Monsieur I)E VAII)EVlLLE, to whom 
I told, that " I thought the enemy would visit him shortly"; 
and, among other things, I inquire v«here Monsieur D' 
ESTEES' son did lay; who told me, " He ,,vas at Bruges." 
Then, at my coming to Dunkirk, there were divers English- 
men willing to serve [i.e., in HILIP II.'s army] : whereupon I 
spake to the Captain of the town ; who advised me to more 
it to the Duke of SAvoY. 
Then  rode to Bruges, beseeching him to consider the 
poor men, and how willing they were to serve the King's 
Majesty, if they might be employed. Then he answered, that 



J. Hihfield.-] IS IMPRISONED BY TtlE DUKE OF SAVOV. 2OI 
March x558-_] 

he "' thought my Lord of PEMBROKE xvould shortly arrive at 
Dunkirk and then he would take order." 
Further, the said Duke asked me, " After what sort the 
town was lost ? " 
I answered that " The cause was hot only by the weakness 
of the Castle, and the lack of men ; but also I thought there 
was some treason, for, as I heard, there were some escaped 
out of the town : and the Frenchmen told me, that they had 
intelligence of all our estate within the toxvn." 
Then I put the Duke in remembrance of Guisnes; who 
told me, that " he would succour the Castle, if it were kept 
four or rive davs." 
Then I took leave to depart from him, and when I xvas 
going out of the bouse, he sent his Captain of his Guard to 
commit me to prison, where I bave remained nine weeks, 
[anuary--March, I558],without any matter laid to my charge ; 
saving he sent to me, within fourteen days after, to declare 
in writing, after what sort the town was lost, which I did as 
nigh as I could remember. 
And at the Duke's next return to Bruges, I sent him a 
supplication, desiring that, if any information were ruade 
against me, I might answer it in England, or otherwise at 
his pleasure. 
lin the Public Record Office, Stale .Pa;3ers, Fore@n, JIARt' iS thc 
following letter in French. 
1558 EMANUEL tSHILIBERr, Duhe of SAvoY to Queen [ARY. 
blarch 14. She will bave been advertised that, soon after the French had 
entered Calais, JOHN H IGHFIELD, late Master of the Artillery 
St. Orner. there, came to Bruges. Fromstrong suspicion that there had 
been an understanding between him and the French, had 
caused him to be arrested and detained at Bruges, where he 
has been until now. 
Lately, while repassing through that town, was importuned 
by the prisoner's wife to set him free. Sends ber under the 
charge of a French gentleman, FRANCIS DU BOURCH the 
bearer.] 
Whereupon he took order to send me hither [i.e., fo England] 
without paying any part of my charges, which I bave pro- 
miaed to answer. 
Most humbly praying your Highness fo consideÆ my poor 
estate, and willing heart, which I bear, and ana most bounden 
to your Grace's service: beseeching God to conserve your 
Majesty in ail felicity. 



202 

J o u  F o x, the Martyrologist. 

Mistress 2zzoRPe's Esca[;e at Calais. 

[Actes and llonumenles, ik. */ou, Ed. 563. ] 

Hn xvorthy xvorks of the LORD's mercy toxvard His 
people be manifold, and cannot be comprehended: 
so that xvho is he living in the earth almost, xvho 
hath hot experienced the helping hand of the 
LORD, at some time or other upon him ? 
Amongst many other, what a piece of GOD's tender provi- 
dence was shewed, of late, upon our English brethren and 
countrymen, what time Calais was taken by tbe tyrant 
Gvlsn (a cruel enemy to GOD's truth, and to our English 
nation); and yet by the gracious provision of the LORD, 
few, or none at ail, of so many that favoured CHRIST and His 
Gospel, miscarried in that terrible Spoil. 
In the number of whom, I know a godly couple, one JoHN 
THORPn and his wife, which fear the LORD and loveth His 
truth ; who being sick the saine time, vere cast out into the 
wild fields, harbourless, desolate, and despairing of all hope 
of life ; having their young infant moreover taken from them 
in the said fields, and carried axvay by the soldiers. Yet the 
LORD so wrought, that the poor woman, being almost past 
recovery of lire, was fetched and carried, the space of well 
nigh a toile, by aliens whom they never knew, into a village, 
where she was recovered for that night. 
Also the next day, coming towards England, she chanced 
into the same inn at the next town, where she found her 
young child sitting by the fireside. 



o3 

Lord G   v of Wilton, Governor of 
Guisnes. 

Letter to ldLee, MA x ; 4th 
a,uary, 1 5 5 8. 7 a.,i. 
[.V/aie Pai#ex. #'oreign, 2IIttR Y, Vol. xii. No. 7Ii. ] 
Y tOST bounden duty humbly premised to your 
Majesty. Whereas I have heretofore always in 
effect written nothing to your Highness but good, 
touching the service and state of your places 
here; I am now constrained, with woful heart, 
to signify unto your Majesty these ensuing. 
The French have won Newhaven Bridge, and thereby 
entered into all the Low Country and the marshes betxveen 
this [Guisnes] and Calais. They have also won Rysbanke, 
whereby they be now toaster of that haven. 
And this last night past, they have placed their ordnance 
of battery against Calais, and are encamped at St. Peter's 
Heath before it: so that I now am clean cut off ri'oto all 
relief and aid xvhich I looked to have (both out of England, 
and from Calais) and know not how to have help by any 
means, either of men or victuals. 
There resteth now none other way for the succour of 
Calais and the rest of your Highness's pieces on this side, 
but a power of men out of England, or ri'oto the King's 
Majesty [PHILI II.] ; or from both, without delay, able to 
distress and keep them from victuals coming to them, as well 
by sea as land; which shall force them to leave their siege 
to the battle, or else drive them to a greater danger. 
For lack of men out of England, I shall be forced to 
abandon the Town [of Guisnes], and take in the soldiers 
thereof for the Castle. I have ruade as good provision of 
victuals as I could, by any means, out of the country; with 
which, GOD willing[ I doubt hot to defend and keep this 
piece as long as any man, whosoever he be, having no better 
provision, and furniture of men and victuals than I have: 



204 ASSUREDLY ENGLISH, EVEN TO THE DEATH! t-4]-L°rdGrey'Jan. *SSS. 

xvherein your Grace shall xvell perceive that I will hot rail 
to do the duty of a faithful subject and Captain, although 
the enemy attempt never so stoutly ; according to the trust 
reposed in me. 
I addressed letters presently to the King's Majesty by this 
bearer, most humblydesiring aid from him; according to the 
effect aforesaid. 
I might now very evil[ly] bave spared this bringer, my 
servant and trusty Officer here, in this rime of service. 
Howbeit considering the great importance of his message, I 
thought him a meet man for the purpose; desiring your 
Majesty to credit him fully, and to hear him at large, even as 
directly as your Grace would hear me to open my mind in 
this complaint of imminent danger. 
Thus trusting for relief and comfort forthwith from your 
Majesty for the safeguard of Calais, and other yourpieces 
here ; I take my leave most humbly of your Grace. 
At your Highness's Castle of Guisnes, most assured Eng- 
lish even to the death, the 4th January, 1557, at seven of the 
clock in the morning. 
Your Majesty's most humble servant, 
And obedient servant, 
\V I L LI A I GREY. 



THOMAS CHURCHYARD, the Poet. 
Share in, and Eye IP'itness account of the 
Siege of Guisnes. 1 Ith-o. 2nd anuary, 
I 5 5 8, A.D. 
[Besides living to an extreme age, all through F-LIZABETH'S reign, and 
vriting very many poems and books : it is dear, trom this account, 
that CHURCH(ARD wa$ one of the heroes ot the Mary Bulwark at 
Guisnes.] 
lA General Rehearaal of i¢'ars, c. *579. The title in the headline is CitURCI YlRD'a Choic«.] 
IR WLLIaM DRURX', now lin 1579] Lord Justice 
of Ireland, vas so inclined to martial affails, that, 
when toreign wars were ended, he sought enter- 
tainment at Guisnes, and those parts; which had 
war with the French, for King PHILLIP'S Quarrel. 
And he, having charge, and a lusty Band of Horsemen, did 
many things that merit good liking. 
For at that time, [there] was much ado : a Band [regiment] 
of horsemen, very well appointed and full of gentlemen, was 
sent from [Sir THOMAS CHENEY, K.G.] the Lord Warden [of 
the Cinque Ports], an honourable and a worthy gentleman, 
most full of nobleness; the Lord CHENEY'S father, now living. 
In this band, and belonging to that charge, were sundry of the 
KEYES, gentlemen of good service: Master CRIPPES having 
the leading of all that company. There were sent, in like 
sort, from the Prince [Sovereign, i.e., Quceu ]IARY]: Master 
WLLX^It HERERT'S (of St. Gillian) brother, called Master 
GEORE HElaBElaT, with a Band of footmen ; and one Captain 
BORIE, whose Lieutenant I was, at the siege of Guisnes. 
These bands, a good season belote Calais and Goisnes 
vere taken, joining with other bands of Calais, did make 
divers journeys into Bollinnoyes [the Boullognois, or dish'ict 
round toulogne] ; and sped very vell : Sir WILLIAM DIUR;, 
at every service, deserved no little praise ; and one Captain 
*VINNIBANK, an ancient soldier, was oftentimes so forward, 
that he was once run through with a lance. Many Gentle- 
mon in those services did well and worthily: and sundry 
times the Lord \Varden's t3and was to be praised. 



206 CaVALR¥ RAIDS BEYOND TtIE PALE, ['r. chuchy,a. 
? '579- 

And, at length, a voyage was ruade, by the consent and 
whole power of Calais and Guisnes, to fetch a prey from 
Boulogne gates ; Monsieur SIARr'OULE [? SENARPONT] then 
being Governor of Boulogne : but ve could hot handle the 
marrer so privily, but the French, by espial, had gotten 
v«ord thereof. Notwithstanding, as soldiers commonly 
go forward with their device, so we marched secretly ail 
the whole night to corne to our proposed enterprise: with 
our footmen, whereof Sir HAItRY PALMER, a man of great 
experience, had the leading. He remained, with the whole 
power of [the] footmen, near the Black Neasts, as a stale 
[dccoy] to annoy the enemy, and succour for such as 
were driven in, if any such occasion came. So the Horse 
Bands [trool)s ] brake into the country, and pressed near 
Boulogne; where there was a great number of gallant 
soldiers to receive them : but out horsemen, making small 
account of the matter, began to prey Jupon] the country, and 
drive a booty from the face of the enemy. The French 
horsemen, taking their advantage, offered a skirmish, to 
detract rime, till better opportunity served to give a charge. 
This courageous bickering grew so hot, that the French 
bands began to show; and out men must abide a shock, or 
retire hardily with some foil : whereupon the chiefest of out 
horsemen charged those of the French that were nearest 
danger; by which attempt, the French stayed a while. But, 
upon small pause, they charged our men again, and over- 
threw of the " Black Lances" a thirty : carrying away with 
them into Boulogne, eighteen gentlemen, prisoners. This 
skirmish began at seven o'clock in the morning; and lasted, 
in very great service, till a leven [elcven]. From tlfis over- 
throw, came divers soldiers, sore wounded, to our Foot bnds 
[comDanies] ; whose heaviness ruade the valiant sort pluck up 
their hearts, and seek a revenge. 0 
Then, albeit, that Foot Captains and gentlemen seldom 
leave their Bands, and venture beyond their charge (a rule to 
be much regarded!),yet the stoutest Captains and gentlemen 
found means to horse themselves on cart horses and victual- 
lers' nags: and put certain scarfs, in manner of guidons 
[standards] on staves' [s]ears'] ends; showing those guidons 
under a hill in several sorts, sometimes appearing with 
twenty men, sometimes with fifty. And, last of ail, ruade 



T. Churchyard.' 
? »9"-] AS FAR AS THE GATES OF ]OULOGNE. 207 

show of ail our number, which was not fifty ; and so, with a 
courageous cry, set upon the enemy (leaving some of these 
devised guidons behind on the hill top), and charged them 
with such a fury that they left their booty, and stood to their 
defence : but, in fine, were forced to retire, for by the little 
stay we held the enemy in, our footmen had leisure to match ; 
the sound of whose drums gave no great courage to the 
French. For they thereon, gave back, and left some of their 
best soldiers behind them ; whom we brought to Guisnes : 
driving the prey belote us, that was gotten in the molning, 
lost in a skirmish, and recovered again at noon. At this 
service, were Sir WILLIAM DRURY, Captain ALEXANDER of 
Newnham Bridge, Captain CII'I'ES, Captain KEYES, and 
three of his brethren, Captain GEORGE HERBERT, and 
sundry others, in like manner, that merit good respect. 
Out power met many times together; and did much hurt 
in the Boullognois. \Ve besieged Fines Castle, and wan it : 
and Blossling Church, and overthrew it ; and killed all the 
men that we found therein, because Sir HARRY PALMER was 
there hurt through the arm, with a shot. [A very sorry reason!] 
A long season, our fortune was good; till, at length, by 
some oversight or mishap (Let the blame fall where it ought !) 
we lost Calais and Guisnes. 
But a little, I pray you ! give me leave to touch truly the 
Siege of Guisnes : not because I had some charge there ; but 
because sundry reports hath been raised thereof, by those 
that never thoroughly knew or understood the matter. 
The very truth is, after Calais was won, and that all hope 
was taken from us of any succour out of England, our 
General, the honourable Lord GREY [of Wilton], that is dead 
[he died in 562], and Master LExvIs DIVE [p. 2], his Lieu- 
tenant, Sir HaRR,Z PALMER, and ail the Captains of Guisnes, 
determined to abide the worst that Fortune or the French 
could do. 
And the day [3th ofyanuary, 558] of the first approach 
the enemy made, we offered a hot and stout skirmish ; but 
being driven in by an over great po'ver, though our whole 
people were ,3oo men, and kept the Town awhile. But 
considering the Castle to be strongest, and doubting [fearing] 
that by a Cambozade or sudden assault, the town might be 
won, for it ,vas but weak ; we retired our whole power into 



2o8 GUISNES IS GAP, IISONED BV 1,3OO IEN. [T. Ch,rch,rà. 
 z$79. 

the Castle: and so manned the base Court, the Braies, and 
Bulwarks, the Keep, the Catte, the Heart of the Castle, and 
all that was necessary, with double men. 
At the present siege, there came out of Flanders, fifty 
valiant Spaniards; and a hand of Burgundians, Monsieur 
DtEFFKIE, being their Captain. Monsieur MOUNT I)RAGON 
was leader of the Spaniards : who were placed in the Braies ; 
vhere Captain LAMBERT had some shot [harquebussiers] to 
succour them. 
The Burgundians were placed in Mary Bulwark ; wîth 
Captain BORNE'S Band, whose Lieutenant I was. Against 
this Bulwark, which was thought impregnable, the [French- 
men's] great battery was planted: albeit, three or four davs 
iI5th-I8th yanuay, see pp. I80--8I] were spent (we held te 
enemy such play), before the battery was planted. 
One day, we issued [forth], and set upon Monsieur Il.e., the 
Duke] DE GUISE, as he was in a place called Mill Field, 
viewing the ground ; and had taken him, had he hot left his 
cloak behind him: of the which white cloak, one of our 
Gentlemen had hold of. And though he was succoured, we 
brought away some of his company: and retired with little 
loss or none at all. [Sir ARTHUR], the Lord GREY that now 
is [I579], was at the hard escape of Monsieur DE GUISE. 
VVe set upon a great troop of horsemen, hot long before 
this, that came from the spoil of Calais ; and took numbers 
of them. I had, for my part, a couple of fait horse and a 
prisoner. At both these services, were old Captain ANDREA, 
Captain JOHN SAVAGE, and a sufficient numberof lustysoldiers. 
\Ve made divers sallies, but that prevailed hot. For the 
battery went off, and many other great cannons did beat at 
the high towers ; the stones whereof did marvellously annoy 
us : and the shot was so great ; and the enemy had gotten 
such great advantage of ground, that we could not walk, nor 
go safely any way within the Castle. For our General and 
Sir HARRY PALMER sitting on a form, devising for out com- 
rnodity, were in such danger, that a cannon shot took 
away the form, and brake Sir HARRY PALMER'S leg ; of which 
hurt, he died in Paris after. And a great shot took off 
Master \VAKE'S head, as he was sleeping under a great tree. 
So sundry, that thought tl:emselves safe, were so dribbed at 
with cannon shot, that they never knew who did hurt them. 



T. Churchyard.-[ I'IAR¥ BULWARK DEFENDED BY 450 IEI. 20 9 
t 579-.1 

XVell, the time drew on, after the breach was made, we 
must defend the assault that was given to Mary 13ulwark ; 
which stood out[side] of the Castle, and far from succour of 
any: because the gate was rammed up; and we could not 
pass into the Castle but by the way, first, along the Braies, 
and then, betveen two gates. \Vhich way, the enemy had 
espied : and placed many great shot, full upon that passage. 
Nov [i.e., ISth .anuary, 1558 ] Monsieur DIFFKIE, Captain 
BORNE, Captain OSWOLD LAMBER'I" [with theircompanies], and 
the fifty Spaniards, [to the number in all of about 45 ° mcu] were 
forced to abide the assault; which began at eleven o'clock, 
and lasted till night. MOUNT DRAGON came into Mary Bul- 
wark, and three gentlemen more; and stood stoutly to our 
defence: two ofwhom were slain. My Captain's head was 
smitten off with a cannon's shot : and unto our t3and were left 
no more but one Master HOLFORDand I, to guide the whole 
company. And Captain DIFFKIE was wounded to the death, 
whose I3and fought manfully in the revene of their Captain. 
The old Captain ANDEA, covetous of faine, was desirous 
to bave our fellowship : but he had no Band [company] nor 
people to do us pleasure. Captain LAtBERT was crossed 
[struck] with a great shot ; and mine armour, with the break- 
ing of a great piece, was stricken fiat upon my b.ody ; but [it 
being unbraced, I might continue the service. \Vhich 
serwce, in mine opinion, was so terribly handled by the 
French (Monsieur D'ANDELOT being the leader of the 
assault), that both Englishman, t3urgundian, and Spaniard, 
at that t3ulwark, had enough to do to keep the enemy out : 
and, as I believe, at this assault, we lost 15o good soldiers. 
But the night coming on, the French surceased their fur3", 
and yet kept themselves closely, under the top of the breach, 
where our shot nor flankers could do them no harm : for all 
our great ordnance was dismounted, long before the enerny 
ruade any approach for the giving of an assault. 
The next day [the r9th of.ammry], within three half hours, 
the battery had beaten the breach so bare (it moulded away, 
like a hillock of sand) that we [reduced now to about 300 men] 
were forced to fight on our knees. Having been kept waking 
all the niht before, with false allarummes [alarms] ; our men 
began to faint, and wax weary of working at the breach : but 
we defended Mary t3ulwark so well all that dangerous day, 
E2va. a,. iv. 14 



2 I O F I G H T I N G O N O U R K N E E S ' r-LT" 
Churchyard. 
•  579- 

that the French lost I,OOO soldiers, by their own confession, at 
tbe saine service; and yet the assault endured to the very 
dark night, with as rnuch cruelty as could be devised. And 
always when the enemy's first men did vax feeble with 
labour ; there was a second and new relief of fresh bands to 
continue the assault : so that, as long as the daylight served, 
it seemed by the fight, a bloody broil hath no end, nor season 
to take breath in; which certainly vould have daunted any 
heart living. 
The next night, was so plied with politic practices, that we 
had scarcely leisure to take any test or sustentation. And, 
indeed, with overwatching, some of our rnen fell asleep "in the 
middle of the tale " and time of greatest necessity to debate 
and argue of those things that pertained to life and liberty, 
and to avoid utter servitude and shame Il.e., thcy slept in the 
course of the fight]. 
And now we, that were without the Castle, rnight hear 
great business and stir throughout the whole body and heart 
of the piece [fortress]. 
For, the next rnorning [2oth of ffanuary, I558], which was 
the third day we were assaulted, our General looked for a 
general assault, and to be roundly assailed : as, of troth, he 
vas. In the rneanwhile, we might speak one to another afar 
off, and our friends answered us over the wall ; for nearer 
together, we might hot corne : and for succour or aid to our 
soldiers in Mary t3ulwark, we hoped hot after. Every man 
was occupied vith his own business and charge ; that no one 
person rnight be spared from lais place. 
\\'ell, as GOD would permit, the poor Spaniards in the 
Braie] and such I3urgundians as were left alive in Mary 
I3ulwark, fell to rnake a counterscarf, to beat out the enemy 
frorn the I3raie, when the I3ulwark should be won : as it was 
likely to be lost, the breach was so bare, and the entry for 
the enerny was so large; for, in a rnanner, they might assault 
our I3ulwark round about, on ail sides. And they did lodge 
at the verv edge of the breach, to the number of 2,ooo, of their 
bravest Iands: rninding to assail us, as soon as the da 3" 
began to peep out of the skies. 
\Vhich they perforrned, when the third day approached. 
For a general assault was given to every place of the Castle: 
which assault endured till the very night came on. The 



T. Churchya,'d.- 10NLY 1 5 ESCAPE FROM lXlAr, w BULWARK. 2 t I 
? z579-J 

French, in this assault, van the Base Court; and were 
ready to set tire under the gate, and blow it up with powder. 
Monsieur D'ANI)ELOa', in his own person, with 2,ooo 
soldiers, entered the Mary Bulwark; who slew the Spaniards 
in the Braie : and forced, as many Burgundians and English 
as were left alive, which were but 15 (Captain ANI)REa, 
Captain LAtBERa', and IP,'SELI; with twelve common soldiers) 
out of 4oo, to leap down into the dykes, and so to scramble 
for their lires ; and creep into a hole of a brick wall that my 
Lord G REY had broken out to receive such as escaped from 
the assault. But when we had entered the hole in the vall, 
the French followed at our heels ; and ve, to save our lires, 
turned again, bending pikes against the passage, and so shot 
off one hargaboze [harqtibus] : by which means, the enemy 
followed no further. 
Andyet we were in as great distress as before. For we 
were between two gates: and at the gate we should have 
entered, were two great cannon, ready charged to be shot 
off, to drive them back that would have set tire on tb.e gate. 
And the cry and noise was so great and terrible, on all sides, 
that we could not be heard to speak. But, as GOD would, 
Master LEWlS DIVE [ib. 2o7] (v.ow, a man of worship in Bed- 
fordshire) heard my voice. Then I plied the matter so sore, 
for lire : so that, with much ado, Master DIvE received us 
into the heart of the Castle. And 3"et, in the opening of the 
gate, the French were like to enter pelley melley [2bell 
with us, if a cannon shot had not made place, whiles the gate 
was a shutting. 
But now, we were no sooner corne belote my Lord GREY : 
but all the soldiers cried, " Yield up the Castle, upon some 
reasonable composition !" And when the soldiers saw they 
could not have the Castle yielded ; they threatened '" to flin 
my Lord GRE',  over the walls " : and that was determined ; 
if my Lord had not prevented [forestalled] them with a policy. 
Whereupon the Captains were called together; and there, 
they agreed to send me to Monsieur DE GUISE, vith an 
offer, that " If we might all march, with bag and baggage, 
ensign displayed, and six pieces of ordnance : we would yield 
the Castle into the hands of the French." 
Now it was night, and I must be let out at lXlaster 
NORWITCH his Bulwark; but neither Drum nor Trumpet 



I" CHURCIIVARD SENT TO DUKE OF GUISE, ClT. Churchy,,d. 
- - ? z579. 

went with me : because a Trumpeter xvas slain as he sounded 
to have a parley; and, as I heard say, a Drum_mer] that 
would bave foliowed me, was shot in the leg. But there was 
no remedy. I must wade over the water, in which there lay 
certain galthroppes, as they terre them, which were great 
boards, full of long spikes of iron ; on the which, having good 
boots and a stay in mv hand, I vas taught daintily to tread: 
and the night was so dark, that the enemy might not take any 
good mark of me, albeit they shot divers times. 
Go, with some hazard, and no great hope to attain that I ,,vas 
sent for, I was taken by the watch ; and brought to Monsieur 
I)E GUISE'S tent, where the Duke D'AuMALE and many great 
l:.states were in presence. 
My message being said, with due reverence ruade: the 
Duke told me, that "all our ordnance was dismounted, and 
that thereby our malice was cut off; and we could hot do 
his camp any annoyance. \Vherefore," said he, " this ,,vas a 
stout brag, to seek a capitulation with such advantage upon." 
I replied to his Excellency, and told, " \\% had flankers 
guns wth a crosstire] and other great pieces, which would 
hot be discovered till the next assault:" declaring likewise, 
" Out soldiers had sworn rather to die in their [own] defence, 
than hOt to march away, like men of war." 
The noblemen, on this mine answer, bade me "Return! 
and with the test of the Castle, to do the worst they could!" 
do I departed, and the Duke of GUISE beholding, as he 
-Lhought, we were resolved to see the uttermost of fortune; 
called me back again: and fell to questions and arguments 
with me, such as I liked not [i.e., he tried fo bribe CttUICl-I- 
'AD in some way] ; but other answer did I hot make, than 
you have heard before. \Vherewith, he called for some meat; 
and ruade me to sit down. 
After I had a little refieshed myself, I demanded to know 
his pleasure. 
\Vho straightways told me, " There was no help to be had ; 
but to become all captives and prisoners to the French King." 
" Not so, Sir," I ansvered; "and that should the next 
assault make trial of." 
Then, he went to talk with the Noblemen ; and there, they 
concluded, " That the soldiers should march away with bag 
and baggage: and the Captains and Oflïcers should remain 



T. Churchyard.-] 
? x»9-_l TO TREAT FOR SURRENDER OF GUISNES. 2 1 3 

prisoners:" which I knew would not be liked: and so 
desired to be sent to mv Lord GRE''. 
But when I came into the Castle, and the soldiers had 
gotten word that they might march away at their will : they 
came to me, and threatened me with great words, command- 
ing me, " To make despatch, and yield up the fort !" For 
they said, "Since the matter is in talk, and likely to be 
brought to a good purpose; they would cut my throat, if I 
made not, hastily, an end of the case." And thereupon had 
they ruade a great bole in a wall ; and so they thrust me out 
among the Almains, who rudely handled me. 
But my Lord GREY, at my departure, bade me tell the 
Duke, that the Almains were about to break into the Castle, 
and to set the gate afire: and my Lord said, " He would 
shoot off bis great ordnance among them; if tbe Law of 
Arms were not better observed ! " 
But, in the meantime, at another place was entered Mon- 
sieur DE TRE [D'ESTREES] Master of the [French] Ordnance; 
and [Sir ARnCUR] the Lord GREr that now is, was sent to 
the Camp, for the pawn [secm'ily] of Monsieur D'EsncIEES. 
But I was corne to Monsieur DE GUISE before those 
things were finished: and had told him my message. And 
he, like a noble Prince and faithful Captain, rode to the gate 
(causing me to mount bebind Master HAI'  DUrLEV); 
where the Almains were busily occupied about some naughty 
practice: and, with a great truncheon, he stroke divers of 
the Almains and others, to make them retire ; and laying {at 
load [i.e., of blows] about him, he ruade such way, that the 
gate was free, and the capitulation was, at leisure, talked of. 
But I was hot suffered to enter any more into the Castle; 
and so stayed as a prisoner. 
Notwithstanding, look what promise Monsieur DE GmSE 
rnade, it was so well kept and observed that our soldiers 
marched away, with all their wealth, money, and weapons. 
And great wealth was borne by them from Guisnes: inso- 
mu:h that divers poor soldiers were made thereby, for all 
[the] days of their lire after. And this is to be noted. There 
was great honour in the Duke of GUISE. For the Bands 
loriginally 1,3oo/5.207 ; but now about 500, having lost 8oo, see 
bclow] that parted [d@artcd] (either sick or sound, hurt or 
whole) were honestly conveyed, and truly dealt withal ; even 



- "4 8oo ErGLSH, AND 4,000 FREr¢CH LOST. 

as long as they vere in any danger, albeit they had great 
sums of rnoney and treasure with them: and the General 
with his Captains and Ofiïcers vere courteously used, so long 
as they vere in the Duke of GvsE his camp. 
And, to say the truth, I think our peace vas not so 
dishonourable, as some report. For 
Succour, had we no hope of. 
The next assault had overthrown us. 
The whole rnembers [i.e., the extcrnalfortifcations] of the 
Castle were eut off from us. 
There remained but the bare body of the Castle in our 
custody. 
The enemy's cannons did beat us from the breach on 
the inside. 
The Castle was subject to every shot; both from the 
Keep, the Carte, and the Mary 13ulwark. 
The French possessed ail the special places of our 
strength and cornfort. 
The best and chiefest of out soldiers were slain, or lay 
maimed in rnost rniserable state. 
And we had lost 80o rnen in these assaults and services; 
which did their duty so xvell, that the enemy con- 
fessed that they had lost 4,000, before we could be 
brought to any parlcy or composition. 
13,ut some of out Otficers [? Is our Athor here cdluding fo 
'«ptain Lord DtUgLEY at Hammes,p. I83], bycraft and cunning, 
escaped homewards out of the Frenchrnen's hands; carne to 
Court, and rnade up their Bands [companies] again; to the 
.reat reproach of those that rneant no such rnatters. So, by 
that subtilty and shift, they that escaped got a pay or sorne 
reward of the Prince: and those that abode out the brunt 
and hazard of the bloody broil, vere left in prison. 
And the world thought, by seeing so rnany corne home, we 
had lost but a fev at the siege of Guisnes; which is other- 
wise to be proved and afiïrrned for a truth ; vhen true trial 
[inqui,y] shall be made. 
Calais was lost before, I cannot declare hov. But well 
I wot, Sir A'rHo" Av,, a stout gentleman, and a valiant 
Knight,there lost his lire : and one Captain SAULE was terribly 
burnt vith powder, in making a train to destroy the enemy 
'p. I99]. 



j o.  F o x, the Martyrologist. 

7he death o_f ..een Mx r. 

[The Eccleslastical Ifistory il. 2296, Ed. t57o]. 
Ow then after these so great afflictions falling upo,n 
this realm from the first beginning of Queen M.,Rv s 
reign, xvherein so many men, women, and children 
were burned; many imprisoned, and in prisons 
[ " starved, divers exiled, some spoiled of goods and 
possessions, a great number driven from house and home, so 
many xveeping eyes, so many sobbing hearts, so many children 
ruade fatherless, so many fathers bereft of their wives and 
children, so many vexed in conscience, and divers against 
conscience constrained to recant, and, in conclusion, never a 
good man in all the realm but suffered something during all 
the time of this bloody persecution. Af ter all this, I say, 
noxv we are corne at length, the LORD be praised! to the 
17th day of November, which day, as it brought to the perse- 
cuted members of CmiST rest rioin their careful mourning, 
so it easeth me somewhat likewise of my laborious xvriting; 
by the death, I mean, of Queen MARY. \Vho, being long 
sick before, upon the said I7th day of November, 1558, about 
three or four a clock in the morning, yielded her life to nature, 
and her kingdom to Queen EIlZt3'rH, her sister. 
As touching the manner of whose death, some say that she 
died of a tympany [dr@sy]; some, by her much sighing 
before her death, supposed she died of thought and sorrow. 
Whereupon her Council seeing ber sighing, and desirous to 
know the cause, to the end they might minister the more 
ready consolation unto her, feared, as they said, that " She 
took that thought for the King's Majesty her husband, which 
was gone from her." 
To whom she ansvering again, " Indeed," said she, " that 



216 "You SIIALL FIND CALAIS IN MV HEART!" [J. rox. 
L. x57o- 

may be one cause; but that is not the greatest wound that 
pierceth my oppressed mind ! " but what that was, she would 
hot express to them. 
Albeit, afterwards, sbe opened the matter more plainly to 
Master RVSE and Mistress CLARENTIUS IP. 14o] (if it be true 
that they told me, which heard it of Master RvsE himself) ; 
who (then being most familiar with her, and most bold about 
her) told her that " They feared she took thought for King 
PIIILIp'S departing from her." 
" Not that only," said she, "but when I ara dead and 
opened ; )'ou shall find Calais lying in my heart," &c. 

And here an end of Queen MARV and her persecution. Of 
which Queen, this trulv, may be affirmed, and left in story 
for a perpetual Memorial or Epitaph, for ail Kings and Queens 
that shall succeed her, to be noted, that before her, never was 
read in story of any King or Queen in England, since 
the rime of King Luclus, under whom, in time of peace, 
by hanging, heading, burning, and prisoning, so much 
Christian blood, so man 3" Englishmen's lires were spilled 
within this realm, as under the said Queen MARY, for 
the space of four years, was to be seen; and I beseech 
the LORD may never be seen hereafter. 



Anno.  558. 

Czzm tSrivilegio. 



[Compare this vith the similar Procession of her Mother in Volume I I. 
p. 46; and of ber sister MARV at b. 84 of this Volume. 
Here ve see the Londoners in a kind of delirium of joy. The horrid 
nightmare of the burnings, of national loss and dishonour at Calais, &c., 
had passed away. iXlen could nov breathe freely, and look forward to 
better times.] 
PoN Saturday, which was the I4th da 3" of 
|anuarv, in the vear of our Lord God, 
558 [ie., I559, alout tvo of the clock, at 
after noon, the most noble and Christian 
Plincess, our most dread Sovereign Lady, 
ELrZABE'rH, by the grace of GOD, Queen 
of England, France, and Ireland, Defender 
of the Faith, &c., marched from the Tower, 
to pass through the City of London, towards \Vestminster: 
richlv furnished, and most honourably accompanied, as well 
vith-Gentlemen, Barons, and other the Nobility of this realm, 
as also with a noble train of goodly and beautiful Ladies, 
richly appointed. 
And entering the City, was of the people received marvel- 
lous entirely, as appeared by the assembly's prayers, wishes, 
welcomings, cries, tender words, and all other signs : which 
argue a wonderful earnest love of most obedien subjects 
towards their Sovereign. And, on the other side, Her Grace, 
by holding up her hands, and merry countenance to such as 
stood afar off, and most tender and gentle language to those 
that stood nigh to Her Grace, did declare herself no less 
thanlfully to receive her people's good will, than they lov- 
ingly offered it unto her. 
To all that "wished Her Grace well ! " she gave " Hearty 
thanks!" and to such as bade "GOD save Her Grace!" she 



220 TIIE OUEENS. LOVING BEHAVIOUR. Jan.'lS.Sg. 

said again, " GOD save them all!" and thanked with ail 
ber heart. So that, on either side, there was nothing but 
gladness ! nothing but prayer ! nothing but comfort ! 
The Queen's Majesty rejoiced marvellously to see that so 
exceedinglyshewed towards HerGrace, which all good Princes 
have ever desired; I mean, so earnest Love of Subjects, so 
evidently declared even to Her Grace's own person, being 
carried in the midst of them. The people, again, vere won- 
derfully ravished with the loving answers and gestures of 
their Princess ; like to the which, they had before tried, at her 
first coming to the town, from Hatfield. This Her Grace's 
loving behaviour preconceived in the people's heads, upon 
these considerations, was then thoroughly confirmed; and 
indeed implanted a wonderful hope in them touching her 
worthv government in the rest of ber reign. 
For'in all ber Passage, she did hot only shev her most 
gracious love towards the people il- general; but also 
privately, if the baser personages had either offered Her 
Grace any flowers or such like, as a signification of their 
good will ; or moved to her any suit, she most gently (to the 
common rejoicings of all lookers on, and private comtbrt ot 
the party)stayed her chariot, and heard their requests. So 
that, if a man should say well, he could not better terre the 
City of London that rime, than a Stage wherein was shewed 
the wonderful Spectacle of a noble hearted Princess towards 
her most loving people; and the people's exceeding comfort 
in beholding so worthy a Sovereign, and hearing so prince-like 
a voice; which could not but have set the enemy on tire, 
(since the virtue is in the enemy alvays commended) much 
more could not but inflame her natural, obedient, and most 
loving people ; whose weal leaneth only upon her Grace, and 
ber government. 

Thus, therefore, the Queen's Majesty passed from the 
Tower [see as fo hcr former dismal visit in Match, 1554, at p. I23], 
till she came to Fanchurch [Fenchurch : the people on each 
side, joyously beholding the view of so gracious a Lady, their 
Queen ; and Her Grace no less gladly noting, and observing 
the saine. 
Near unto Fanchurch, was erected a scaffold richly fur- 
nished; whereon stood a noise of instruments; and a child, 



ja,.t,ssç. THE FIRST OF THE FIVE PAGEANTS. 22I 

in costly apparel, which was appointed to welcome the Queen's 
Majesty, in the whole City's behalf. 
Against which place, when Her Grace came, of ber own 
will she commanded the chariot tobe stayed; and that the 
noise might be appeased, till the child had uttered his wel- 
coming Oration, which he spake in English mette, as here 
followeth. 

0 peerless Sovereign Queen ! ]3ehold, what this thy town 
Hath thee presented with, at thy First Entrance here! 
Behold, xvith how rich hope, she leadeth thee to thy Crown ! 
Behold, with vhat txvo gifts, she comforteth thy cheer ! 

The First is Blessing Tongues ! which many a " \Velcome ! " 
say. [sky ! 
Which pray, thou may'st do well ! which praise thee to the 
\Vhich wish to thee long lire[ which bless this happy day! 
Which to thy Kingdom " He-apes[" [Hiis!], ail that in 
tongues can lie. 

The Second is True Hearts ! which love thee from theil" root 
\Vhose Suit is Triumph now, and ruleth ail the gaine, 
Which Faithfulness bas won, and ail untruth driven out; 
\Vhich skip for joy, when as they hear thy happy naine ! 

\Velcome, therefore, O Queen ! as much as heart can think. 
Welcome again, O Queen ! as much as tongue can tell, 
\Velcome to joyous Tongues, and Hearts that will hot shrink ! 
" GOD, thee preserve ! " we pray ; and wish thee ever vell ! 

At which words of the last line, the people gave a great 
shout ; wishing, with one assent, as the child had said. 
And the Queen's Majesty thanked most heartily, both the 
City for this her gentle receiving at the first, and also the 
people for confirming the saine. 
Here was noted in the Queen's Majesty's countenance, 
during the time that the child spake, besides a perpetual at- 
tentiveness in her face, a marvellous change in look, as the 
child's words touched either ber person, or the people's 



222 SUBJECT OF THE FIRST PAGEANT IS E/an.:,ssg. 

Tongues and Hearts: so that she, with rejoicing visage, did 
evidently declare that the words took no less place in her 
mind, than they were most heartily pronounced by the child, 
as from ail the hearts of her most hearty citizens. 
The same Verses were fastened up in a table [paintcd board. 
Table is the Elizabcthan word for picture] upon the scaffold; 
and the Latin thereof likewise, in Latin verses, in another 
table, as hereafter ensueth. 

Urbs tua quoe ingressu dederit tibi munera ,#rimo, 
0 Rcgina ! lamm non habitura, vide ! 
d diad«ma tuum, te spe quam divite mittat, 
Qu« duo letitioe det tibi do,a, vide ! 
Muuus habes Primum, Linguas bona multa Precantcs, 
Quoe te quum. laztdant, tutu ia vota sonant, 
Foelicemque diem hunc dicunt, libi secula longa 
Optant, et quicquid deniqw lingua fiotest. 
ltera dona feres, vcra, et tui A manlia Corda, 
Quorum gens ludum jam regit nna lu:cm : 
In quibus est infracta .rides, falsumque perosa, 
Qu¢que tuo audito nomine lwta salit. 
Grata venis igitur, quantum Cor conciÆit ullum 
Quantum Lingua potcst diccre, grata venis ! 
Cordibus infractis, Linguisquc per omnia lotis 
Grata venis ! salvam te vclit esse DE US ! 

Noxv when the chiid had pronounced his oration, and the 
Queen's Highness so thankfully received it; she marched 
]orward towards Gracious [Gracechnrch] Street, where, at tbe 
upper end, before the sign of the Eagle, the city had erected 
a gorgeous and sumptuous Ark, as here followeth. 
A Stage was made which extended ff'oto one side of the 
street to the other, richly vawted [vaulled] with battlements, 
containing three ports [gates] ; and over the middlemost was 
advanced three several stages, in degrees [tiers]. Upon the 
lowest stage, was made one seat royal; wherein were placed 
two personages representing King HENRY VII., and 
BETH his wife, daughter of King EI)XVARD iV. Both of these 
two Princes sitting under one Cloth of Estate, in their seats ; 



no otherwise divided, but that th[e] one of them, vhich was 
King HENRY VII., proceeding out of the House of LANCASTER, 
was enclosed in a red rose; and the other, which was Queen 
ELIZAI3ETH, being heir to the House of YOV, K, enclosed with 
a white rose : each of them royally crowned and decently ap- 
parelled, as pertaineth to Princes, with sceptres in their hands, 
and one vawt [vault] surrnounting their heads, wherein aptly 
were placed two tables, each containing the title, of those two 
Princes. And these personages were so set, that the one of 
thern joined hands with the other, with the ring of matrimony 
perceived on the finger. 
Out of the which two roses sprang two branches gathered 
into one : which were directed upward to the second stage or 
degree; wherein was placed one representing the valiant and 
noble Prince, HENRY VIII., who sprang out of the forrner 
stock, crowned with a crown imperial. And by him sate 
one representing the right worthy Lady, Queen .A_NNE ; wife 
to the said HENRY VIII., and mother to our most sovereign 
Lady, Queen ELIZAI3ETH that now is. Both apparelled with 
sceptres and diadems, and other furniture due to the estate of 
a King and Queen : and two tables surmounting their heads, 
wherein were written their narnes and titles. 
Frorn their seat also, proceeded upwardsone branch directed 
to the third and upperrnost stage or degree, wherein likewise 
was planted a seat royal ; in the which was set one repre- 
senting the Queen's rnost excellent Majesty, ELIZABETH, now 
our most dread Sovereign Lady, crowned and apparelled as 
the other Princes were. 
Out of the forepart of this pageant was rnade a standing 
for a child, which, at the Queen's Majesty's corning, declared 
unto her the whole rneaning of the said pageant. 
Thetwosidesof the sarne vere filled with loud noises of music. 
And all empty places thereof, were furnished with sentences 
concerning Unity. And the whole pageant was garnished 
with red and white roses; and in the forefront of the saine 
pageant, in a fair wreath, was written the narne and title of 
the sarne, which was 
THE UNITING OF THE T\VO 
HOUSES OF YORK AND LANCASTER. 
Thispageant wasgrounded upon the Queen Majesty's naine. 



2-4 TtlE QUEEN WILL PRESERVE CONCORD!Jan.?,ssg. 

For like as the long" xvar between the two Houses of YORK 
and LANCASTER then ended, when ELIZABETH, daughter of 
EI)WARI IV., matched in marriage with HENRY VII., heir 
to the House of LANCASTER; SO since that the Queen's 
Majesty's naine was ELIZ.,]3ETH, and forasmuch as she is the 
only heir of HENRY VIII., which came of both Houses as the 
knitting up of concord: it was devised that like as ELIZA- 
BETH .vas the first occasion of concord; so She, another 
ELIZABETH, might maintain the saine among ber subjects. 
So that Unity was the end, whereat the whole device shot ; as 
the Queen's Majesty's naine moved the first ground. 
This pageant now against the Queen's Majesty's coming, 
xvas addressed [sctforth] with children representing the fore- 
named personages; with all furniture due unto the setting 
forth of such a well-meant matter, as the argument declared, 
costly and sumptuously set forth, as the beholders can witness. 
Now, the Queen's Majesty drew near unto the said pageant, 
and forasmuch as tbe noise was great, by reason of the press 
of people, so that she could scarce hear the child which did 
interpret the said pageant; and her chariot was passed so 
far forward that she could not well view the personages re- 
presenting the Kings and Queens above named ; she required 
to have the matter opened unto her, and what they signified, 
with the End of Unity, and Ground of her Naine, according as 
is be[ore expressed. 
For the sigbt whereof, Her Grace caused ber chariot to 
be remo,«ed back; and 3et hardly could she see, because the 
children were set somexxhat with the farthest in. 
But after that Her Grace understood the meaning thereof, 
she thatked the City, praised the fairness of the work, and 
promised tbat " She would do her whole endeavour for the 
continual preservation of concord !" as the pageant did import. 
The child appointed in the standing above named, to open 
the meaning of the said pageant, spake these words unto Het" 
Grace. 
The two Princes that sit under one Cloth of State : 
Tbe Man in the red rose; the \Voman in the white : 
HENRY the SEVENTH, and Queen ELIZABETH his mate, 
t3y ring of marriage, as man and wife unite. 



• jan.,559.1LATIN SENTENCES CONCERNING UNITV. ==5 

Both heirs to both their bloods : to LANCASTER, the King, 
The Queen, to YORK; in one the two Houses do knit. 
Of whom, as Heir to both, HENRV the EIGrTr did spring, 
In whose seat, his truc Heir, thou, Queen ELIZABETH ! dost 
sit ! 

Therefore as civil war and shed of blood did cease ; 
When these two Houses xvere united into one : 
So now, that jar shall stint and quietness increase, 
We trust, 0 noble Queen ! thou wilt because alone ! 

The which also were written in Latin verses. And both 
drawn in two tables upon the forefront of the said pageant, 
as hereafter followeth. 

Hii quos jungit idem solium, quos annulus idem : 
1-Icec albente nitens, ille rubente rosa : 
SEPTIMUS HENRICUS rex, regina ELIZABETHA, 
Scilicet Hceredes gentis uterque suce. 
1-Icec EBORACENSIS, LANCASTRIUS ille dederunt 
Connubio e geminis quo foret una domus. 
Excipit hos hce.res I-IENRICUS coula regum 
OCTA VUS, magni regis imago lotens. 
Regibus hinc succedis avis regique pa.renti 
Patris justa Hceres ELtZABErHA fui. 

. SENTENCES PLA CED THEREIN, CONCERNING 
U2vr r Y. 

lqullce concordes aninos vites domant. 
Qui juncti ferrent, dej-uncti riment. 
Discordes animi solvunt, concordes ligant. 
A ugentur ibarva pace, magna bdlo cadunt. 
Conjunctce manus fortius tollunt onus. 
Regno pro mcenibus ceneis civium concordia. 
Qui diu pugnant, dhdius lugent. 
Dissidentes principes, subditorum lucs. 
Exa. G*. IV. I 



226 SUBJECT OF TttE SECOND PA6EANT IS [J*..,5» 

aPrinceps ad paccm natus, non ad arma datur. 
Filia concordioe copia, ncptis quies. 
Dissentiens respublica hostibus palet. 
Qui idem tcnent, diutius tenent. 
l¢egnum divisum facile dissolvitur. 
Civitas concors armis frustra tentatur. 
Omnfion gentimn consensus firmat ridera. 
&c. 

These Verses and other pretty Sentences were drawn in 
void places of this pageant, all tending to one end, that quiet- 
ness might be maimained and all dissention displaced : and 
that by the Queen's Majesty, Heir to Agreement, and agree- 
ing in name with her which tofore had joined those Houses, 
which had been the occasion of much debate and Civil War 
with this realm (as may appear to such as well search 
Chronicles ; but be not to be touched in this Treatise, only 
declaring Her Grace's Passage through the City, and what 
provision the City made therefore). 
And ere the Queen's /vlajesty came within hearing of this 
pageant, as also at ail the other pageants ; she sent certain to 
require the people to be silent, for Her Majesty was disposed 
to hear ail that should be said unto her. 

When the Queen's Majesty had heard the child's oration 
and understood the meaning of the pageant at large; she 
marched forward towards Cornhill, always received with like 
rejoicing of the people. 
And there, as Her Grace passed by the Conduit, which was 
curiously trimmed against that time, adorned with rich 
banners, and a noise of loud instruments upon the top thereof: 
she espied the second pageant. And because she feared, for 
the people's noise, that she should not hear the child which 
did expound the saine, she inquired what that pageant was, 
ere that she came to it. And there understood, that there 
was a child representing Her Majesty's person, placed in a 
Seat of Government, supported by certain Virtues which sup- 
pressed their contrary Vices under their feet : and so forth, 
as, in the description of the said pageant, shall hereafter 
appear. 



This pageant, standing in the nether end of Cornhill, was 
extended from one side of the street to the other; and, in the 
saine pageant was devised three gates, all open : and over the 
middle part thereof was erected one Chair or Seat royal, with 
Cloth of Estate to the saine appertaining, wherein was placed 
a child representing the Queen's Highness, with considera- 
tion had for place convenient for a table, which contained her 
name and title. 
And in a comely wreath, artificially and well devised, with 
perfect sight and understanding to the people, in the front of 
the saine pageant, was written the naine and title thereof 
which is 

THE SEAT OF WORTHY GOVERNANCE. 

Which Seat was made in such artificial manner, as fo the 
appearance of the lookers on, the forepart seemed to bave no 
stay; and therefore, of force, was stayed by lively [livh.g] 
personages. Which personages were in number four, stand- 
ing and staying the forefront of the saine Seat royal, each 
having his face to the Queen and the people; whereof every 
one had a table to express their effects. Which are Virtues, 
namely, PURE RELIGION, LOVE OF SUBJECTS, VISDOM, and 
JUSTICE; which did tread their contrary Vices under their 
feet: that is tu wit, PURE RELIGION did tread upon IGNO- 
RANCE and SUPERSTITION, LOVE OF SUBJECTS did tread upon 
REBELLION and INSOLENCY, WISDOM did tread upon FOLLY 
and V^INGLORY, JUSTICE did tread upon ADULATION and 
BRIBERY. Each of these personages, according tu their 
proper names and properties, had not only their names in 
plain and perfect writing set upon their breasts, easily tu be 
read of all : but also every of them was aptly and properly 
apparelled; su that his apparel and naine did agree tu 
express the saine person, that in title he represented. This 
part of the pageant was thus appointed and furnished. 
The tvo sides over the two side ports had in them placed 
a noise of instruments [i.e., a hand ofplayers] ; which, imme- 
diately after the child's speech, gave a heavenly melody. 
Upon the top or uppermost part of the said pageant stood 
the Arms of England, royally portraitured; with the proper 
beasts tu uphold the same. One representing the Queen's 



228 TItE VIRTUES TRAMPLING ON TItE VICES. 

Highness sat in this Seat, crowned with an imperial crown : 
and before her seat was a convenient place appointed for one 
child, which did interpret and apply the said pageant as 
hereafter shall be declared. 
Every void place was furnished with proper Sentences 
commending the Seat supported by the Virtues; and defacing 
the Vices, to the utter extirpation of rebellion, and to ever- 
lasting continuance of quietness and peace. 

The Queen's Majesty approaching nigh unto this pageant, 
thus beautified and furnished in all points, caused her 
chariot to be drawn nigh thereunto, that Her Grace might 
hear the child's oration, which was this : 

While that Religion True shall Ignorance suppress, 
And with her weighty foot, break Superstition's head ; 
While Love of Subjects shall Rebellion distress, 
And with Zeal to the Prince, Insolency down tread ; 

While Justice can Flattering tongues and Bribery deface; 
"vVhile Folly and Vainglory, to \Visdom yield their hands: 
So long, shall Government not swerve from her right race, 
But Wrong decayeth still, and Righteousness upstands. 

Noxv all thy subjects' hearts, 0 Prince of peerless faine ! 
Do trust these virtues shall maintain up thy throne ! 
And Vice be kept dovn still, the xvicked put to shame; 
That good xvith good may joy, and naught with naught may 
moan ! 

Which Verses were painted upon the right side of the 
same pageant; and in Latin thereof, on the left side, in 
another table, which xvere these. 

Que subnixa alte solio regina suberbo est, 
Effigicm sancte Princilbis ahna refert, 
Quam Civilis A mor fidcit, Sa2bientia firmat, 
.Tusticia illustrat, Religioque beat 
Vana Suberstitio et crasse Ignorantia frontis 



9 
jan.'x»»9.] SEAT OF GOVERNAICE UIHELD BY VIRTUES. 229 

Pressce sub Pure Religione jacent. 
Rcgis A mot domat Effvcenos, animosque rebellcs 
.ustus A dulantes, Donivorosque tcrit. 
Çum regit Imberiu,t sa,biens, sine htce sedebunt 
Stultitia, arque hujus numen inanis honor. 
Beside these Verses, there were placed in every void room 
of the pageant, both in English and Latin, such 8entences 
as advanced the 8eat of Governance upholden by Virtue. 
The ground of this pageant was that, like as by Virtues 
(which do abundantly appear in Her Grace), the Queen's 
Majesty was established in the 8eat of Government ; so she 
should sit fast in the saine, so long as she embraced Virtue, 
and held Vice under foot. For if Vice once got up the head, 
it would put the 8eat of Government in peril of falling. 
The Queen's Majesty, when she had heard the child, and 
understood the pageant at full, gave the City also thanks 
there ; and most graciously promised her good endeavour for 
the maintenance of the said virtues, and suppression of vices. 
And so marched on, till she came against the Great 
Conduit in Cheap; which was beautified with pictures and 
sentences accordingly, against Her Grace's coming thither. 
Against Soper Lane's end was extended from the one side 
of the street to the other, a pageant which had three gates, 
all open. 
Over the middlemost whereof, were erected three several 
stages, whereon sat eight children, as hereafter followeth. 
On the uppermost, one child; on the middle, three; on the 
lowest, four; each having the proper naine of the I31essing 
that he did represent, written in a table, and placed above 
his head. 
In the forefront of this pageant, before the children which 
did represent the Blessings, was a convenient standing cast 
out for a child to stand, which did expound the said pageant 
unto the Queen's Majesty; as was done in the other before. 
Every of these children were appointed and apparelled 
according to the Blessing, which he did represent. 
And on the forepart of the said pageant was written, in fait 
letters, the name of the said pageant, in this manner following. 



230 SUBJECT OF THE THIRD PAGEANT IS [jç,»». 

THE EIGHT BEATITUDES, EXPRESSED 
IN THE FIFTH CHAPTER OF THE 
GOSPEL OF SAINT MATTHEW, 
APPLIED TO OUR SOVEREIGN 
• LADY QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
Over the two side posts was placed a noise of instruments. 
And ail void places in the pageant were furnished with 
pretty Sayings commending and touching the meaning of the 
said pageant; which were the Promises and Blessings of 
Almighty GOD made to His people. 
Before the Queen's Highness came into this pageant, she 
required the matter somewhat to be opened unto her; that Her 
Grace might the better understand what should, afterward, 
by the child, be said unto her. Which was so, that the City 
had there erected the pageant with eight children, represent- 
ing the Eight Blessings touched in the Fifth Chapter of 
St. Matthew; whereof every one, upon just considerations, 
was applied unto Her Highness. And that the people 
thereby put Her Grace in mind, that as her good doings 
before, had given just occasion why that these Blessings 
might fall upon her; that so, if Her Grace did continue in 
her goodness, as she had entered, she should hope for the 
fruit of these Promises, due unto them that do exercise 
themselves in the Blessings. 
Which Her Grace heard marvellously graciously, and 
required that the chariot might be removed towards the 
pageant, that she might perceive the child's words: which 
were these, the Queen's Majesty giving most attentive ear, 
and requiring that the people's noise might be stayed. 
Thou hast been eight times blest! 0 Queen of worthy fame! 
By Meekness in thy spirit, when care did thee beset ! 
By Mourning in thy grief! by Mildness in thy blame ! 
13y Hunger and by Thirst, and justice couldst none get .t 
]3y Mercy shoxved, hot felt ! by CIeanness of thy heart! 
By seeking Peace always! by Persecution wrong! [smart ! 
Therefore, trust thou in GOD! since He bath helped thy 
That, as His Promise is, so He xvill make thee strong! 



When these words were spoken, all the people wished that 
'-' As the child had spoken, so GOD would strengthen Her 
Grace against all her adversaries!" whom the Queen's 
Majesty did most gently thank, for their so loving wish. 

These Verses were painted on the left side of the said 
pageant ; and other, in Latin, on the other side, which were 
these : 

Qui lugent hilares fient, qui initia gestant 
Pectora, multa soli jugera culta metent. 
ffustitiam esuriens sitiensve replebitur, ipsum 
Fas homini puro corde videre DE UM. 
Qucm alterius miseret Domhms miserebitur hujus, 
Pacifcus quisquis, flius ille DEI est. 
Pro,bter justitiam quisquis tbatietur habetque 
Dcmissam mcntem, ccelica regna capit. 
Huic hominum generi terrain, mare, sidera vovit 
Omnipotens, horum quisque beatus erit. 

]3esides these, every void place in the pageant was fur- 
nished with Sentences touching the matter and ground of the 
said pageant. 

When all that was to be said in this pageant was ended ; 
the Queen's Majesty passed on forward in Cheap side. 
At the Standard in Cheap, which was dressed fair against 
the rime, was placed a noise of trumpets, with banners and 
other furniture. 
The Cross, likewise, was also made fair and well trimmed. 
And near unto the same, upon the porch of Saint Peter's 
Church door, stood the Waits of the City ; which did give a 
pleasant noise with their instruments, as the Queen's Majesty 
did pass by. Who, on every side, cast her countenance, and 
wished well to all her most loving people. 
Soon after that Her Graee passed the Cross, she had espied 
the pageant ereeted at the Little Conduit in Cheap; and 
incontinent required to know what it might signify. And it 
was told Her Graee, that there was plaeed TIm. 
"TI ! " quoth she, "and Time hath brought me hither! " 



232 THE CIT¥'S NOBLE GIFT TO THE 

And so forth the whole matter was opened to Her Grace, as 
hereafter shall be declared in the description of the pageant. 
But when in the opening, Her Grace understood that the 
Biblç in English, should be delivered unto her by Tgv'rri 
(which was therein represented by a child), she thanked the 
City for that gift, and said that she would oftentimes read 
over that book ; commanding Sir Jomq PAggAr, one of the 
knights which held up her canopy, to go before, and to re- 
ceive it : but learning that it should be delivered unto Her 
Grace, down by a silken lace, she caused him to stay. 
And so passed forxvard till she came against the Aldermen, 
in the high end of Cheap, tofore the Little Conduit; where 
the Companies of the City ended, which began at Fanchurch 
[Fcnchurch Strect] and stood along the streets, one by another, 
enclosed with rails hanged with cloths, and themselves well 
apparelled v¢ith many rich furs, and their Livery Hoods 
upon their shoulders, in comely and seemly manner ; having 
before them sundry persons well apparelled in silks and 
chains of gold, as Whifflers and Guarders of the said Com- 
panies: besides a number of rich hangings (as well of 
tapestry, arras, cloths of gold, silver, velvet, damask, satin, 
and other silks) plentifully hanged ail the way, as the 
Queen's Highness passed from the Tower through the City. 
Out at the windows and penthouses of every house did hang 
a number of rich and costly banners and streamers, till Her 
Grace came to the upper end of Cheap. 

And there by appointment, the Right Worshipful Master 
RANULPH CHOLMELEY, Recorder of the City, presented to 
the Queen's Majesty, a purse of crimson satin, richly 
wrought with gold ; wherein the City gave unto the Queen's 
Majesty a thousand marks in gold [= 666 = about 5,ooo 
now] ; as blaster Recorder did declare briefly unto the Queen's 
Majesty. [Com15are the snilar usual girl to her Moth¢r 
25 years before, at Vol. II. p. 48]. Whose words tended to 
this end, that "The Lord Mayor, his brethren and commonalty 
of the City, to declare their gladness and good will towards 
the Queen's Majesty, did present Her Grace with that gold ; 
desiring Her Grace to continue their good and gracious 
Queen, and hot to esteem the value of the gift, but the mind 
f the givers." 



The Queen's Majesty, with both her hands took the 
purse, and answered to him again marvellously pithily; and 
so pithily that the standel's by, as they embraced entirely her 
gracàous answer, so they marvelleà at the couching thereof : 
which was in woràs truly reported these. "I thank my 
Lord Mayor, his brethren, and you ail ! And whereas your 
request is, that I shoulà continue your gooà Lady and Queen : 
be ye ensureà that I will be as gooà unto you, as ever Queen 
was to her people ! No will in me can lack! neither, ào I 
trust, shall there lack any power ! And persuade yourselves 
that, for the safety and quietness of you ail, I xvill hOt spare, 
if need be, to sheà my biooà ! GOD thank you ail !" 
Which answer of so noble a hearted Princess, if it moved 
a marvellous shout and rejoicing, it is nothing to be mar- 
velled at ; since both the heartiness thereof was so wonder- 
ful, and the words so jointly knit. 

When Her Grace had thus answered the Recorder, she 
marcheà towards the Little Conduit; where was erected a 
pageant, with square proportion, standing directly before the 
saine Conduit, with battlements accordingly. And in the 
saine pageant were advanced two hills or mountains of con- 
venient height. 
The one of them, being on the north side of the saine 
pageant, was ruade cragged, barren, and stony ; in the which 
was erected one tree, artificially ruade, all withered and 
dead, with branches accordingly. And under the saine 
tree, at the foot thereof, sat one, in homely and rude 
apparel, crookedly, and in mourning manner, having over 
his head in a table, written in Latin and English, his naine, 
which was 
RUINOSA RESPUBLICA, 
A DECAYED COMMON WEAL. 

And upon the saine withered tree, were fixed certain tables 
wherein were written proper Sentences, expressing the causes 
of the Decay of the Common xveal. 
The other hill, on the south side, was ruade fair, fresh, 
green, and beautiful ; the ground thereof full of flowers and 
beauty. And on the saine was erected also one tree, very 
fresh and fair; under which, stooà upright one fresh personage, 



34 SUBJECT OF THE FOURTH PAGEANT IS 

well apparelled and appointed; whose naine also was writ- 
ten, both in English and in Latin, which was 
RESPUBLICA BENE INSTITUTA, 
A FLOURISHING COMMON WEAL. 

And upon the saine tree also, were fixed certain tables con- 
taining Sentences, which expressed the causes of a Flourishing 
Common weal. 
In the middle, between the said hills, was made arti- 
ficially, one hollow place or cave, with door and lock 
enclosed ; out of which, a little before the Queen's Highness's 
coming thither, issued one personage, whose naine was 
TIME (apparelled as an old man, with a scythe in his hands, 
having wings artificially ruade), leading a personage, of less 
stature than himself, which was finely and well apparelled, 
ail clad in xvhite silk; and directly over her head was set 
her name and title, in Latin and English, TEIvOIS FILIA, 
THE DAUGHTER OF TIME. 
Which two, so appointed, went forward, towards the south 
side of the pageant. 
And on her breast was written her proper naine, VERITAS, 
TRU'rH ; who held a book in her hand, upon the which was 
written, Verbum Veritatis, The Word of Trutlt. 
And out of the south side of the pageant, was cast a 
standing for a child, which should interpret the same pageant. 

Against whom, when the Queen's Majesty came, he spake 
unto Her Grace these words : 

This old man with the scythe, old Father TXME they call : 
And her, his daughter TRUTH, which holdeth yonder book ; 
Whom he out of his rock hath brought forth to us ail, 
From whence, these many years, she durst not once outlook. 

The ruthful wight that sitteth under the barren tree, 
Resembleth to us the form when Common weals decay ; 
But when they be in state triumphant, you may see 
13y him in fresh attire, that sitteth under the bay. 



Now. since that TIME again, his daughter TRUTH hath 
brought ; 
We trust, 0 worthy Queen ! thou wilt this Truth embrace ! 
And since thou understandest the good estate and nought ; 
We trust Wealth thou wilt plant, and Barrenness displace ! 

But for to heal the sore, and cure that is not seen, 
Which thing the Book of Truth doth teach in writing plain ; 
She doth present to thee, the saine, 0 worthy Queen! 
For that, that words do fly, but writing doth remain. 

When the child had thus ended his speech, he reached 
his book towards the Queen's Majesty ; which, a little belote, 
IRUTH had let down unto him from the hill : vhich by Sir 
JoHN PARRAT was received, and delivered unto the Queen. 
But she, as soon as she had received the book, kissed it ; 
and with both her hands held up the saine, and so laid 
it upon her breast ; with great thanks to the City therefore. 
And so went forward toward Paul's Churchyard. 

The former matter, which was reheared unto the Queen's 
Majesty, was written in two tables, on either side the 
pageant, eight verses : and in the midst, these in Latin. 

Ille, vides, falcem leva qui sustinet uncam, 
TEMPUS is est, cul stat filia [fERA cornes 
Hanc lbater exesa deductam rue rconit 
In lucem, quam non viderat ante diu. 
Qui sedet a loeva cultu nmle tristis inepto, 
Quem duris crescens cautibus orbis obit 
Nos monet egioe, qua sit Respublica quando 
Corruit, at contra quando beata viget, 
Ille docet juvenis forma spcctandus amictt 
Scitus, et OEterna laurea fronde virens. 

The Sentences, vritten in Latin and English upon both 
the trees, declaring the causes of both estates, were these : 



236 THE CONNECTION OF THE PAGEANTS. 

CAUSES OF A RUINOUS COMMON 
|VEA L ARE THESE. 
\Vant of the Fear of GOD. Civil disagreement. 
Disobedience to rulers. Flattering of Princes. 
Biindness of guides. Unmercifulness in rulers. 
Bribery in magistrates. Unthankfulness in subjects. 
Rebellion in subjects. 

. CA USES OF 
COMMON 

A FL 0 UR ISHING 
WEAL. 

Fear of GOD. 
A wise Prince. 
Learned rulers. 
Obedience to officers. 

Obedient subjects. 
Lovers of the Common Wealo 
Virtue rewarded. 
Vice chastened. 

The matter of this pageant dependeth of them [i.e., the 
lbageants] that went before. For, as the first declared Her 
Grace fo corne out of the House of Unity; the second, that 
she is placed in the Seat of Government, stayed with virtues 
to the suppression of vice; and therefore in the third, the 
Eight Blessings of .Almighty GOD might xvell be applied 
unto ber : so this fourth noxv, is to put Her Grace in remem- 
brance of the state of the Common \Veal, which TXME, with 
TRUTH his daughter, doth reveal: which TRUTH also, Her 
Grace hath received; and therefore cannot but be merciful 
and careful for the good government thereof. 

From thence, the Queen's Majesty passed towards Paul's 
Churchyard. 
And when she came over against Paul's School, a child 
appointed by the Schoolmaster thereof, pronounced a certain 
Oration in Latin, and certain Verses : which also were there 
written, as follows. 

Philosolhhus ille divimts PLATO, inter multa lhrceclare ac sa- 
picntcr dicta, hoc ostcris lhroditum reliquit, Rcmublicam illam 
[clicissimam fore, cul Prhtceps soçhioe studiosa, virtutibusqoE 
ornata contigerit. Quem si vcre dixisse censeamus (ut quidcm 
verissime) cur non terra Britannica lauderet ? cur non oçulus 



]*.t,»»9-] THE LATII SPEECH AT ST. PAUL'S SCIIOOL, 237 

gaudiam arque lcetitiam agitaret ? immo, cur non hune diem albo 
(quod aiunt) htpillo notaret ? quo Princeps talis nobis adest, 
qualem lbriores non viderunt, qualemque lbosteritas haud facile 
cernere lboterit, dotibus quum animi, tutu corporis u»dique feh- 
cissima. Casti quidem corporis dotes ira apertce sunt, ut oratione 
non egeant. Animi vero rot tantrque, ut ne verbis quidem 
exprimi possint. Hcec nempe Regibus summis orta, morum arque 
animi nobilitate genus exuperat. Hujus pectus CI-I,tSTI religionis 
amore flagrat. Hcec gentem Britannicum virtutibus illustrabit, 
dipeoque justitice tegct. Hec literisGrcecis et Latinis eximia, 
ingenioque prcepollcns est. Hac impcrante, pietas vigebit, Anglia 
florebit, A urea Secula redibunt. Vos igitur A ngli, lot commoda 
accelturi , ELIZABETHAM Regiuam nostram celeberrimam ab ibso 
CI-IRISrO hujus regni imperio destinatam, honore debito lbrose- 
quimini. Hujus imperiis animo libentissimo subditi estote, vosque 
tali lbrincipe dignos prcebete. Et quoniam, pueri non viribus 
sed lbrecibus officium prestare possunt, nos A lumni hujus Scholce 
ab ipso COLETO, olim Tcmpli Paulini Decano, extructce, teneras 
almas ad coelum tendentes CH,ISTUM Opt. Maxi. abrecaturi 
sttmts ut ttttot celsitudinem mmos NESTOREOS szotmo ctt 
honore Anglis imperitare faciat, matremque lbignoribus charis 
beatam reddat. A men. 

A nglia nunc tandem llaudas, l«tare, re sulta, 
Presto jam vita est, prcesidiumque tibi. 
En tua spes venit tua gloria, lux, decus omue 
Venir jam solidam quce tibi prestat opcm. 
Succurretque fuis rebus quce pessum abiere. 
Pcrdita quce fuerant hcec relmrare volet 
Omnia florebunt, redcunt nunc aurea secla. 
In melius surgent quce cecidere bo»a. 
Debes ergo illi totam te reddere fidam, 
Cujus in acccssu commoda tot caibies. 
Salve igitur dicas, imo de pectore summo. 
ELIZABETH Regni non dubitanda salus, 
Virgo venir, vcniatque optes comitata deincc, bs. 



238 THE QUEEN PASSES OUT AT LUDGATE. [.Jan.,ss. 

Pignoribus cha;i, loeta parens veniat. 
Hoc DE US omnipotens ex alto donet OIympo, 
Qui coelum et tcrram condidit arque regit. 

XVhich the Queen's Majesty most attentively hearkened 
unto. And when the child had pronounced, he did kiss the 
Oration, which he had there fait written in paper, and delivered 
it unto the Queen's Majesty, which most gently received the 
saine. 

And when the Queen's Majesty had heard all that was 
there offered to be spoken ; then Her Grace marched toward 
Ludgate: where she was received with a noise of instru- 
ments ; the forefront of the Gate being finely trimmed against 
Her Majesty's coming. 
From thence, by the xvay, as she went down toward Fleet 
Bridge, one about Her Grace, noted the City's charge, that 
" there was no cost spared." 
Her Grace answered, that" She did well consider the saine, 
and that it should be remembered [ " An honourable answer, 
worthy a noble Prince: which may comfort ail her subjects, 
considering there can be no point of gentleness or obedient 
love shewed toxvards Her Grace; which she doth not most 
tenderly accept, and graciously weigh. 

In this manner, the people on either side rejoicing, Her 
Grace went forvard towards the Conduit in Fleet Street, 
where was the fifth and last pageant, erected in the form 
following, 
From the Conduit, which was beautified with painting, unto 
the north side of the street, was erected a Stage embattled 
with four towers and in the same, a square plat rising with 
degrees. 
Upon the uppermost degree was placed a Chair or royal 
Seat; and behind the same Seat, in curious artificial manner, 
was erected a tree of reasonable height, and so far advanced 
above the seat as it did well and seemly shadow the saine, 
vithout endamaging the sight of any part of fhe pageant. 
And the same tree was beautified with leaves as green as Art 
could devise, being of a convenient greatness and containing 
thereupon the fruit.of the date tree; and on the top of the 



ja.,559.]SUBJECT OF THE FIFTH PAGEANT. 239 

same tree, in a table was set the name thereof, which was, 
A Palm Tree. 
And in the aforesaid Seat or Chair was a seemly and meet 
personage, richly apparelled in Parliament robes, with a 
sceptre in her hand, as a Queen; crowned with an open crown : 
xvhose name and title xvere in a table fixed over her head in 
this sort, DEBORAH, The yudge and Restorer of Israel. Judic. 4- 
And the other degrees, on either side, were fumished with 
six personages ; two representing the Nobility, two the Cergy, 
and two the Comminalty. And before these personages, was 
written in a table, 
DEBORAH, WITH HER ESTATES, 
CONSULTING FOR THE GOOD 
GOVERNMENT OF ISRAEL. 
At the feet of these, and the loxvest part of the pageant, 
was ordained a convenient room for a child to open the 
meaning of the pageant. 

When the Queen's Majesty drew near unto this pageant ; 
and perceived, as in the others, the child ready to speak: 
Her Grace required silence, and commanded her chariot to be 
removed nigher that she might plainly hear the child speak ; 
which said, as hereafter followeth : 

JABIN, of Canaan King, had long, by force of arms, 
Oppressed the Israelites ; which for GOD's People went : 
But GOD minding, at last, for to redress their harms ; 
The worthy DEBORAH, as Judge among them sent. 

In war, She, through GOD's aid, did put her foes to flight, 
And with the dint of sword the band of bondage brast ; 
In peace, She, through GOD's aid, did always maintain right 
And judgèd Israel, till forty years were past. 

A worthy precedent, 0 worthy Queen! thou hast ! 
A worthy woman, Judge! a woman sent for Stay ! 
And that the like to us, endure always thou may'st ; 
Thy loving subjects will, with true hearts and tongues, pray ! 



240 BLUE COAT BOYS AT ST. DUNSTAN'S.Ç_JnT,559. 

Which verses were written upon the pageant: and the saine 
in Latin also. 

Quando DEI populum Canaan, tex tressit ff ABIN, 
Mittitur a magno DEBORA magta DEO : 
Quoe populum eripcret, sanctum servaret ffudan, 
Milite quœee atrio frangeret hostis oes. 
Hec Domino mandante DEO lectissima fecit 
F«mina, et adversos contudit ense viros. 
Hoec quater denos opdum correxerat annos 
udicio, bcllo strenua, ace gravis. 
Sic, 0 sic, opulum, bdloque et çace, gubernal 
DEBORA sis A nglis, ELIZABErHA fuis  

The void places of the pageant were filled with pretty 
Sentences concerning the same matter. 
The ground of this last pageant xvas, that forasmuch as 
the next pageant before, had set before Her GracCs eyes the 
Flourishing and Desolate States of a Common \Veal; she 
might bythis, be put in remembrance to consult for the worthy 
Government of her people ; considering GOD, ofttimes, sent 
women nobly to rule among rnen, as DEBORAH which governed " 
Israel in peace, the space of forty years ; and that it behoveth 
both men and women so ruling, to use advice of good counsel. 

When the Queen's Majesty had passed this pageant; she 
marched towards Temple Bar. 
But at St. Dunstan's, where the children of the Hospital 
Il.e., Christ's Hospital, now known as the Blue Coat School, see 
p. 246], were appointed to stand with their Governors ; Her 
Grace perceiving a child offered to make an oration unto her, 
stayed ber chariot ; and did cast up her eyes to heaven, as who 
should say, " I here see this merciful vork towards the poor ; 
vhom I must, in the midst of my royalty, needs remember." 
And so, tu'rned her lace towards the child, which, in Latin, 
pronounced an Oration to this effect. 
That after the Queen's Highness had passed through 
the City; and had seen so sumptuous, rich, and noble 
spectacles of the citizens, which declared their most 



? 
,n.',»sg.3 TtlE EVERLASTING SPECTACLE OF IIERC¥. 24 

hearty receiving and most joyous velcoming of Her 
Grace into the saine : this one Spectacle yet rested and 
remained; which was the everlasting Spectacle of 
Mercy unto the poor members of Almighty GOD, fur- 
thered by that famous and most noble Prince, King 
HENRY VIII., Her Grace's Father; erected by the City 
of London ; and advanced by the most godly, virtuous, 
and gracious Prince, King Emv.D VI., Her Grace's dear 
and loving brother. Doubting nothing of the rnercy of 
the Queen's most gracious clemency : by the which they 
may not only be relieved and helped, but also stayed 
and defended; and therefore incessantly, they vould 
pray and cry unto Almighty GOD for the long lire and 
reign of Her Highness, with most prosperous victory 
against her enemies. 
The child, after he had ended his Oration, kissed the paper 
wherein the same was written, and reached it to the Queen's 
Majesty; who received it graciously both with words and 
countenance, declaring her gracious mind towards their relief. 

From thence, Her Grace came to Temple Bar, vhich v«as 
dressed finely, with the two images of GOTMAGOT the Albion, 
and CORnEus the Briton ; tvo giants big in stature, furnished 
accordingly : which held in their hands, even above the gate, 
a table, wherein was written, in Latin verses, the effect of all 
the pageants which the City before had erected. Which 
Verses are these : 
Ecce sub aspectu jam contemplaberis uno 
0 Prhtce,bs 2bolbuli sola columna tui ! 
Quicquid in immcnsa pa.ssim perspexeris urb 
Quce cqbere omnes unus hic arcus habet. 
Primus, te solio rcgni donavit aviti, 
Hceres qui, bpe tui vera parentis eras. 
S@,bressis vitiis, domina virtute, Secundus, 
Firmavit sedem regia virgo tuam. 
Tcrti,ts, ex omni posuit te parte beatam 
Si, qua cœee, bisti pergere velle, relis. 
Quarto, quid verum, Respublica L@sa quid essct, 
Quce Florens staret te docuere tui. 
E.va. a,,x, iv. 16 



242 THE VERSES ABOVE TEMPLE 

Quinto, magna loco momtit te DEBORA, missa 
Ccclittts in regni gaudia longa tui. 
crge ergo Rçffina !tu¢ sfies unica gcntis ! 
Hoe« Postrcma urbis sus«ipe Vota 
" Vive diu ! reguaquc diu ! virhttibus orna 
Rem palriam, et p@uli scm tueare lui ! 
Sic, 0 sic fietihtr coelum ! Sic ihr h astra I 
Hoc virtutis opus, c¢tera nortis erunt !" 

Which Verses were also written in English metre, in a 
lesse[r] table, as hereafter followeth. 

I3ehold here, in one view, thou mayst see all that plain; 
O Princess, to this thy people, the only stay! 
What eachwhere thou hast seen in this wide town ; again, 
This one Arch, whatsoever the rest contained, doth say. 

The First Arch, as true Heir unto thy Father dear, 
Did set thee in thy Throne, where thy Grandfather sat 
The Second, did confirm thy Seat as Princess here; 
Virtues now bearing sway, and Vices beat down fiat 

The Third, if that thou wouldst go on as thou began, 
Declareth thee to be blessed on every side ! 
The Fourth did open Truth, and also taught thee when 
The Common Weal stood well, and when it did thence slide ! 

The Fifth, as DEBORAH, declared thee tobe sent 
From heaven, a long comfort to us thy subjects all 
Therefore, go on, O Queen ! (on whom out hope is bent) 
And take with thee, this vish of thy Town as final! 

" Live long ! and as long, reign ! adorning thy country 
With virtues ; and maintain thy people's hope of thee! 
For thus, thus heaven is won ! thus, must thou pierce the sky ! 
This is by virtue wrought ! AI1 other must needs die! " 



J-nT,»59.] TttE CITY'S FAREWELL ! HO/'' AND/OR,'/YER. 243 

On the south side [i.e., of Flcet Street, at TemDle Bar] vas 
appointed bythe City, a noise of singingchildren; and one child 
richly attired as a Poet, which gave the Queen's Majesty 
her Farevell, in the name of the whole City, by these words. 

As at thine Entrance first, 0 Prince of high renown ! 
Thou wast presented with Tongues and Hearts for thy fait; 
So now, sith thou must needs depart out of this Town, 
This City sendeth thee firm Hope and earnest Prayer ! 

For all men hope in thee, that ail virtues shall reign ; 
For all men hope that thou, none error wilt support ; 
For all men hope that thou wilt Truth restore again, 
And mend that is amiss; to all good men's comfort ! 

And for this Hope, they pray thou mayst continue long 
Our Queen amongst us here, all vice for to supplant ! 
And for this Hope, they praythat GOD maymake thee strong, 
As by His grace puissant, so in His truth constant ! 

Farewell ! O vorthy Queen ! and as our hope is sure, 
That into Error's place, thou wilt now Truth restore ! 
So trust we that thou wilt our sovereign Queen endure 
And loving Lady stand, from henceforth, evermore ! 

While these words were in saying, and certain vishes 
therein repeated for the maintenance of Truth, and rooting 
out of Error ; she, now and then, held up her hands to heaven- 
ward, and willed the people to say "Amen ! " 
When the child had ended, she said, " I3e ye well assured, 
I will stand your good Queen ! " 
At which saying, Her Grace departed forth, through Temple 
I3ar towards Westminster, with no less shooting [i.e.,firing 
ofguns] and crying of the people, than, when she entered the 
City, with a great noise of ordnance which the Tower shot off, 
at Her Grace's entrance first into Tower Street. 

The child's saying was also, in Latin verses, vritten in a 
table which was hanged up there. 



244 THE CIT¥, OF ITSELF, BEAUTIFIED ITSELF. [_JanT,ssg. 

0 Regina potens ! quum primam urbem ingredereris 
Dona tibi, Linguas fidaque Corda dedit. 
Discedenti etiam tibi nunc duo munera mittit, 
Omha plena Slbei, votaque plena Precum. 
Quippe fuis Spes est, i, te quod provida virtus 
Rexerit, errori «tec locus ulhts erit. 
Quippe tuis Spes est, quod ut verum omne reduces 
Solatura bonas, dura mala tollis, oles. 
Hac Spe freti orant, longum ut Regina guberncs, 
Et regni excindas crimina cuncta lui. 
Hac Spe Jreti orant, divi,a ut gratia Jortem, 
Et veroe fidei te relit esse basin. 
yam, Regina, vale ! et sicut ns sibes tenet una, 
Quod veto indueto, lberditus error erit. 
Sic quoque speramus quod eris Regina benigna 
Nobis per regzi tempora longa fui ! 

Thus the Queen's Highness passed through the City! which, 
,vithout any foreign person, of itself, beautified itself ; and re- 
ceived Her Grace at ail places, as hath been before mentioned, 
with most tender obedience and love, due to so gracious a 
Queen, and sovereign Lady. 
And Her Grace likewise, of her side, in ail Her Grace's 
Passage, shewed herself generally an Image of a worthy Lady 
and Governor ; but privately these especial points were noted 
in Her Grace, as signs of a most Prince-like courage, whereby 
her loving subjects may ground a sure hope for the rest of 
her gracious doings hereafter. 



45 

Certain Notes of the .,een's Majesty's 
great mercy, clemency, and wisdom 
used in this Passae. 

N BOUT the nether end of Cornhill, toward Cheap, 
one of the Knights about Her Grace, had espied 
an ancient Citizen which wept, and turned his 
head back. And therewith said this Gentleman, 
" Yonder is an AIderman, " for so he termed him, 
"which weepeth,and turneth his face backward ! How may it 
be interpreted that he doth so ? For sorrow ! or for gladness ? " 
The Queen's Majesty heard him; and said, "I warrant 
you, it is for gladness !" A gracious interpretation of a noble 
courage, which would turn the doubtful to the best. And 
yet it was well known, that (as Her Grace did confirm the 
saine) the party's cheer was moved, for very pure gladness 
for the sight of Her Majesty's person; at the beholding 
whereof, he took such comfort, that with tears he expressed 
the saine. 
In Cheapside, Her Grace smiled; and being thereof de- 
manded the cause, answered, " For that she had heard one 
say, Rcmc»ber old King HNRY VIII .t " A natural child ! 
which at the very remembrance of her father's naine took so 
great a joy ; that all men may well think that as she rejoiced 
at his naine whom this Realm doth hold of so worthy memory, 
so, in her doings, she will resemble the saine. 
X,¥hen the City's charge without partiality, and only the 
City, was mentioned unto Her Grace ; she said, " It should 
not be forgotten !" x, Vhich saying might move all natural 
Englishmen heartily to shew due obedience and entireness to 
their so good a Queen, which will, in no point, forget any 
parcel of duty lovingly shewed unto ber. 



246 TIIE POOR WOMAN'S BRANCII OF ROSEMARY. [jan.',s59" 

The answer which Her Grace ruade unto Master Recorder 
of London, as the hearers knov it to be true and with melting 
hearts heard the saine, so may the reader thereof conceive 
what kind of stomach and courage pronounced the saine. 
What more famous thing do xve read in ancient histories 
of old time, than that mighty Princes have gently received 
presents offered them by base and low personages. If that 
be to be wondered at, as it is passingly ! let me see any writer 
that in any one Prince's lire is able to recount so many pre- 
cedents of this virtue, as Her Grace shewed in that one 
Passage through the City. How many nosegays did Her 
Grace receive at poor women's hands ? How ofttimes stayed 
she her chariot, when she sav any simple body offer to speak 
to Her Grace ? A branch of rosemary gîven to Her Grace, 
with a supplication, by a poor woman, about Fleet Bridge, 
was seen in her chariot till Her Grace came to \Vestminster ; 
notwithstanding the marvellous wondering of such as knew 
the presenter, and noted the Queen's most gracious receiving 
and keeping the saine. 
What hope the poor and needy may look for, at Her 
Grace's hand ; she, as in all her journey continually, so in ber 
hearkening to the poor children of Christ's Hospital, with 
eyes cast up unto heaven, did fully declare; as that neither 
the wealthier estate could stand without consideration had to 
the poverty, neither the poverty be duly considered unless 
they were remembered, as commanded to us by GOD's own 
mouth. 
As at her first Entrance, she, as it were, declared herself 
prepared to pass through a City that most entirely loved her ; 
so she, at her last Departing, as it were, bound herself by 
promise to continue good Lady and Governor unto that City, 
which, by outward declaration, did open their love to their so 
loving and noble Prince, in such wise as she herself wondered 
thereat. 

But because Princes be set in their Seat by GOD's appoint- 
ment, and therefore they must first and chiefly render the 
glory of Him from vhom their glory issueth ; it is to be 
noted in Her Grace, that, forasmuch as GOD bath so 
wonderfully placed ber in the Seat of Government over this 
realm; she in all doings, doth shew herself most mindful of 



ç 
Jan.'t559-] ELIZABETII RENDERS TIIAXKS TO GOD. 247 

His goodness and mercy sheved unto her. And amongst all 
other, tvo principal signs thereof were noted in this Passage. 
First, in the Tower : where Her Grace, before she entered 
ber chariot, lifted up her eyes to heaven, and said : 
0 LORD [ Almighty and everlasting GOD ! I give Thee 
most hearty thanks, that as Thou hast been so merciful 
unto me, as to spare me to behold thisjoyful day ! And I 
acknowledge that Thou hast dealt as wonderfully and 
mercifully with me, as Thou didst with thy true and 
faithful servant DANIEL, the prophet; whom thou de- 
liveredst out of the den, from the cruelty of the greedy 
and raging lions : even so, was I overvhelmed, and only 
by Thee ! delivered. To Thee ! therefore, only, be thanks, 
honour, and praise for ever ! Amen. 
The second was, the receiving of the Bible, at the Little 
Conduit, in Cheap. For when Her Grace had learned that 
the Bible in English, should there be offered ; she thanked 
the City therefore, promised the readingthereof most diligently, 
and incontinent commanded that it should be brought. At 
the receipt whereof, how reverently, she did, with both her 
hands, take it ! kiss it ! and lay it on her breast [ to the great 
comfort of the lookers on! 
GOD will undoubtedly preserve so worthy a Prince ; which, 
at His honour, so reverently taketh ber beinning. For this 
saying is true, and written in the Book of Truth : " He that 
first seeketh the Kingdom of GOD, shall have all other things 
cast unto him." 
Now, therefore, all English hearts, and her natural people 
must needs praise GOD's mercy, which hath sent them so 
worthy a Prince ; and pray for Her Grace's long continuance 
amongst us. 

tu|tNn ŒEcmpl¢ ar, at tt)¢ sign of t!¢ 
tfll, tbe .mil. ap of :anuar. 

[559] 



48 

Rev. W  . L  a  H a a  
Canon of Windsor, and 
Radwinter. 

 s o , B.D. 
Rector of 

EzIzxru arms. England, whicb 
had left defenceless. 

MAR y 

[Book II., Chap. x6 of Description of England, in HOLINSitED'S Clrondde. Ed. t587[-8]. 
Reprinted by F. J. lPURNIVALL, I[.A., for .N'ezv .çkaks_#ere Society, #. 278 , Ed. 

Ov well, and how strongly our country hath been 
furnished, in times past, with armour and artil- 
lery, it lieth not in me, as of myself to make 
rehearsal. 
Yet that it lacked both, in the late time of 
Queen ]ARY; hot only the experience of mine elders, but 
also the talk of certain Spaniards, hot yet forgotten, did 
leave some manifest notice. 
Upon the flrst, I need not stand : for fev will deny it. 
For the second, I have heard that when one of the greatest 
Peers of Spain [evidently in Queen 2IARY's reign] espied our 
nakedness in this behalf, and did solemnly utter in no 
obscure place, that " It should be an easy matter, in short 
time, to conquer England; because it wanted armour!" his 
words were then not so rashly uttered, as they vere politicly 
noted. 
For, albeit, that, for the present time, their efficacy was 
dissembled; and semblance made as though he spake but 
merrily : yet at the very Entrance of this our gracious Queen 
unto the possession of the Crown, they were so providently 
called to remembrance, and such speedy reformation sought, 
of ail hands, for the redress of this inconveniency, that out 
country was sooner furnished with armour and munition 
ïrom divers parts of the main [the Continent], besides great 



Rev. w. Harrlso,,,BD.-] DECAY OF TtIE ENGLIStI LONG BOW. 249 
 588.J 

plenty that vas forged here at home, than our enemies could 
get understanding of any such provision to be ruade. 
I3y this policy also, was the no small hope conceived by 
Spaniards utterly cut off; who (of open friends, being now 
become our secret enemies; and thereto watching a time 
wherein to achieve some heavy exploit against us and our 
country) did thereupon change their purposes: whereby 
England obtained rest; that otherwise might bave been 
sure of sharp and cruel wars. 
Thus a 8panish word uttered by one man at one time, 
overthrev, or, at the least, hindered sundry privy practices 
of many at another time. 

In times past, the chief force of England consisted in their 
long bows. But now we have in manner generally given over 
that kind of artillery, and for long bows indeed, do practict 
to shoot compass for out pastime ; which kind of shooting 
can never yield any smart stroke, nor beat down our enemies, 
as our countrymen were wont to do, at every time of need. 
Certes, the Frenchmen and Reitters [i.e., Reiters, the Germal» 
or Swiss Lance-knights] deriding our nexv archery, in respect 
of their corslets, will not let, in open skirmish, if any leisure 
serve, to turn up their tails, and cry, " Shoot, English !" 
and ail because our strong shooting is decayed, and laid in 
bed. 
But if some of our Englishmen now lived, that served 
King EDWARD III. in his xvars vith France : the breech of 
such a varlet had been nailed to his back with one arrow; 
and another feathered in his bowels, before he should have 
turned about to see who shot the first. 
But as our shooting is thus, in manner, utterly decayed 
among us one way : so our countrymen wax skilful in sundry 
other points; as in shooting in small pieces, the caliver, 
and handling of the pike; in the several uses whereof, they 
are become very expert. 
0ur armour differeth not from that of other nations; and 
therefore consisteth of corslets, almain rivets, shirts of 
mail, jacks quilted and covered with leather, fustian, or 
canvas over thick plates of iron that are sewed in the saine. 
Of which, there is no town or village that bath not her 
convenient furniture. The said armour and munition like- 



-45o ,72,674 FIGIITING FNGLISHMEN. [Rev. W.arrlson, l.!O.. ,ssa. 

wise is kept in one several place of every town, appointed 
by the consent of the whole parish; where if is always 
ready to be had and worn within an hour's warning. 
Sometimes also itis occupied [usedl, when it pleaseth the 
magistrate, either fo view the able men and take note of the 
well keeping of the saine ; or finally to see those that are en- 
rolled, to exercise each one his several weapon : at the charge 
of the townsmen of each parish, according to his appoint- 
ment. Certes there is almost no village so poor in England, 
be it never so small, that hath hot sufficient furniture in 
a readiness to set forth three or four soldiers (as, one archer, 
one gunner, one pike, and a bill-man), at the least. No, 
there is hot so much vanting as their very liveries [uniforms] 
and caps; which are least to be accounted of, if any baste 
required. So that if this good order continue, it shall be 
impossible for the sudden enemy to find us unprovided. 
As for able men for service, thanked be GOD! we are 
hot xvithout good store. For by the Musters taken in 1574 
and x575, our number amounted to 1,172,674; and yet they 
were not so narrxvly taken, but that a third part of this 
like multitude was left unbilled and uncalled. 
What store of munition and armour, the Queen's Majesty 
bath in ber storehouses, it lieth not in me to yield account; 
sith I suppose the same to be infinite. And whereas it was 
commonly said, after the loss of Calais, that England would 
never recover the store of ordnance there left and lost; the 
same is proved false: since some of the same persons do 
now confess that this land was never better furnished with 
these things in any King's days, since the Conquest. 
The names of out greatest ordnance are commonly 
these : 

lobinet, whose weight is 200 lbs.; and it hath I¼ inches 
within the mouth. 
37alconet, weighing 50o lbs., and his wideness is 2 inches 
within the mouth. 
Falcon bath 8oo lbs., and 2½ inches within the mouth. 
Miî:ion poiseth [weighcth] I,IOO lbs., and bath 3¼ inches 
within the mouth. 
Sacre hath 1,5oo lbs., and is 3½ inches wide in the 
mouth. 



r'«v'W'l'Iarrls°n'B'D'] SIZES' *SSS" C., OF ARTILLERY. . 

Dcmi-Culverh, 
xvithin the mouth. 
Culverin hath 4,000 lbs., and 5 inches within 
mouth. 
Demi-Cannon, 6,000 lbs., and 6½ inches within 
mouth. 
Cannon, 7,000 lbs., and 8 inches within the mouth. 
E. Cannon, 8,000 lbs., and 7 inches within the mouth. 
l?,asilisk, 9,000 lbs., and 8 inches within the mouth. 

weigheth 3,000 Ibs., and hath 4½ inches 
the 
the 

t3y which proportions, also, it is easy to corne by the 
weight of every shot, how many scores [i.c., of yards] it doth 
fly at point blank, how much povder is to be had to the 
saine, and finally hov many inches in height, each bullet 
ought to carry. 

The names of the 'eight of Scores [of yards] Pounds of Height of 
Great Ordnance bath the hot. lbs. of carriage. Powder. 13ullet. lnche-*. 

Robhtct ........................  ...... o ...... 
Falconcl ........................... ŒE ......  4 ...... 
Fa/con  x  6 
l[inion ........................... 4. ...... 17 ...... 
Sacre .............................. 5 ......  8 ...... 
I)etni-CuloEerbt .................. 9 ...... 2 ...... 
()dvcrin ........................ 18 ...... 2 5 ...... 
Demi-Camwn .................. 30 ...... 38 ...... 
Cannon ........................... 6o ...... 2o ...... 
E. Cannon ..................... 42 ...... 20 ...... 
JBasilisk ........................... 6o ...... 21 ...... 

4 ...... 3 
5 ...... 
9 ...... 4 
18 ...... 
-"8 ...... 6 
20 ...... 6¼ 
60 ...... 8 t 

As for the Armouries of some of the Nobility (whereof I 
also have seen a part), they are so well furnished, that within 
some one Baron's custody, I have seen three score or a 
hundred corslets at once; besides calivers, hand-guns, bows, 
sheafs of arroxvs, pikes, bills, pole-axes, flasks, touch-boxes, 
targets, &c. : the very sight whereof appalled my courage. 

Seldom shall you see any of my countrymen, above 
elghteen or twenty years old, to go »vithout a dagger at the 
least, at his back or by his side; although they be aged 



252 EVERV ONE USUALLV CARRIES ARMS. E Rev" 
w. 
Harrlson, 
.D. 

burgesses or magistrates of any city who, in appearance, are 
most exempt from brabling and contention. 
Our Nobility commonly wear swords or rapiers, with their 
daggers; as doth every common serving man also that fol- 
loweth his lord and toaster. 

Finally, no man travelleth by the way, without his sword 
or some such weapon, with us; except the Minister, who 
commonly weareth none at all, unless it be a dagger or 
hanger at his side. 



ALCILIA: 

PHIL 0 PAR TttE N's 

Loving Folly. 

Nn Deus (ut erhibent) amor est, scd 

AT LONDON. 
Prhzted y R. R. for IFilliam Mortes, 
dwelling in Fleet street, at the sign of the 
Hand and Plough. 
x595. 



[The only copy of the 595 edition, at present known, is in the City 
Library, at Hamburg. 
It was recovered, and reprinted in 875 by Herr WILHELM WAGNER, 
Fh.D., in Vol. X. of the Deutsc]ten S]takeseare-Gesellsc]taft a]zrbuch ; 
copies of this particular text being also separately printed. 
A limited Subscription edition, offifty-one copies, was printed by Rev. A. 
B. GROSART, LL.D., F.S.A., of Blackburn, in I879 : with a fresh collation 
of the text by B. S. LEESON» Esq., of Hamburg. 
The present modernized text is based on a comparison of the above 
two reprints of the 595 edition with the text of the London edition of 
63 in which some headings (herein inserted between [ ], on p,. 256, 
276 28) first occur.] 



55 

Letter written  a Gent]eman 
lut]or, ]is jCriencl. 

to t]e 

FRIEND PHILOPARTHEN, 

N PERUSING your Loving Folly, and your Declining 
from it; I do behold Reason conquering Passion. 
The infirmity of loving argueth you are a man ; 
the firmness thereof, discovereth a good wit and 
the best nature : and the falling from it, true virtue. Beauty 
was always of force to mislead the wisest; and men of 
greatest perfection bave had no power to resist Love. The 
best are accompanied with vices, to exercise their virtues; 
whose glory shineth brightest in resisting motives of pleasure, 
and in subduing affections. And though I cannot altogether 
excuse your Loving Folly; yet I do the less blame you, in 
that you loved such a one as was more to be commended for 
her virtue, than beauty : albeit even for that too, she was so 
well accomplished with the gifts of Nature as in mine conceit 
(which, for good cause, I must submit as inferior to yours) 
there was nothing wanting, either in the one or the other, 
that might add more to ber worth, except it were a more 
due and better regard of your love ; which she requited hOt 
according to your deserts, nor answerable to herself in ber 
other parts of perfection. Yet herein it appeareth you bave 
ruade good use of Reason; that being heretofore lost in 
youthful vanity, bave now, by timely discretion, found yourself! 



256 [A LETTER FRObl PHILARETES.] 
Let me entreat you to surfer these your Passionate Sonnets 
tobe published! which may, peradventure, make others, 
possessed with the like Humour of Loving, to follow your 
example, in leaving; and move other ALCILIAS (if there be 
any) to embrace deserving love, whi]e they may ! 
Hereby, also, she shall know, and, it may be, inwardly 
repent the loss of your love, and see how much ber per- 
fections are blemished by ingratitude ; which will make your 
happiness greater by adding to your reputation, than your 
contentrnent could have been in enjoying her love. At the 
least wise, the wiser sort, however in censuring them, they 
may dislike of your errors; yet tbey cannot but commend 
and allow of your reformation : and all others that shall with 
indifferency read them, may reap thereby some benefit, or 
contentment. 
Thus much I have written as a testimoy of the good will 
I bear you ! with whom I do surfer or rejoice according to 
the quality of your misfortune or good hap. And so I take 
my leave ; resting, as always, 
Yours most assured, 
PH I LA RETE S. 



257 

Author ipse ç,o@Ooç ad 
libellum suum. 
A vE liber Domini vanos dicture laborcs, 
Insomnes noctes, sollicitosque dies, 
Errores varios, languentis loedia vitoe, 
Moerores ceros, gaudia certa minus, 
Pemigiles curas, susiria, vota, qucrdas, 
EI quoec-unque ati dura coegit amor. 
I recor intreMus, duram comiterque mlutans 
Hoec me ejus cama sustinuisse refer. 
Te grato exciiet vultu rubicundula, nome 
Cure titulo inscritum viderit esse suum. 
Forsitan et nostri miserebitur illa dotoris, 
Dicet et, ah quantum deruisse doler : 
Seque nimis soevam, cmdelemq2¢e isa vocabit, 
Cuinon est fidei debita cura meoe ; 
Quod siquidem eveniet, Domhw solamhds illud, 
Et tibi surenti muneris instar erit. 
Si quis (ut est oequum) fatuos damnaverit ignes, 
Pigritioe frwtus ingeniique levis : 
Tu Domimem coecis tenebris errasse, sed isum 
Erroris tandem oenituisse sui, 
Me quoque re vera nec lot, nec tanta tulisse, 
Sed ficta ad lacitum multa fleisse refcr. 
Ea. G. IV. 17 



258 

lA urIiox D ziazz u,t 

A b quanto satius (nisi nens mihi vana)fuisset 
Ista meo penitus delittisse sinu : 
Quam levia in lucem prodire, aut luce carentis 
Insanam Domini prodcre stultitiam. 
Nil amor est aliud, quam mcntis morbus et error. 
Nil sapienter agit, nil bene, quisquis amat. 
Sed zon cuique datur sapere, aut nelioribus uti, 
Forte erit alterius, qui meus error erat. 
Cautior incedit, qui n«nquam labitur, atqui 
yam proprio evadam cautior ipse malo. 
Si cul delicto gravior mea pcena videtur ; 
Illius in laudes officiosus eris. 
Te si quis simili qui carpitur igne videbit, 
Ille suam sortem flebit, et ille meam. 
A LCILI obsequium s«pplex proestare memento, 
Non minima officii pars erit illa fui. 
Te fortasse sua secura recondet in arca, 
Et Solis posthoec luminis orbus eris. 
Nil referet, fateor ne non prudenter amasse ; 
Ultima deceptoe sors erit illa speL 
Bis proprio PHaïBUS cursu lustraverat orbem, 
Conscius erroris, sttltiticeqte meoe, 
A quo primus amor ccepitpenetrare medullas, 
Et falsa accensos nutriit arte focos. 
Desino jam gas amplecti, seria posthoec 
(Ut Ratio monet) ac ,ttiliora sequor. 



Imoris Preludium. 

[ Ud, pistoIa ad Amicam.] 

0 THEE, ALCILIA ! solace of my youth ! 
These rude and scattered rhymes I haveaddressed ! 
The certain Witness of my Love and Truth, 
That truly cannot be in words expressed : 
Which, if I shall perceive thou tak'st in grec, 
I will, from henceforth, write of none but thee! 

Here may you find the wounds yourself have made ! 
The many sorrows, I have long sustained ! 
Here may you see that LOVE must be obeyed ! 
How much I hoped, hov little I have gained ! 
That as for you, the pains have been endured ; 
Even so by you, they may, at length, be cured ! 

I will not call for Md to any Muse 
(It is for learned Poets so to do) : 
Affection must, my want of Art excuse, 
bly works must have their patronage from You ! 
V¢hose sweet assistance, if obtain I might ! 
I should be able both to speak and write. 



e6o 

Meanwhile, vouchsafe to read this, as assigned 
To no rnan's censure ; but to yours alone ! 
Pardon the faults, that you therein shall find ; 
And think the writer's heart was not his own ! 
Experience of examples daily prove v,,,,i,,; 
amare 
"That no man tan be well advised, and love!" 

And though the work itself deserve it not 
(Such is your Worth, with rny great Wants cornpared !) ; 
Yet may rny love unfeignèd, without spot, 
Challenge so rnuch (if more cannot be spared ! ). 
Then, lovely Virgin ! take this in good part ! 
The rest, unseen, is sealed up in the heart. 

Judge not by this, the depth of my affection ! 
\Vhich far exceeds the rneasure of rny skill ; 
But rather note herein your own perfection ! 
So shall appear my want of Art, hot will : 
\Vherefore, this now, as part in lieu of greater, 
I offer as an insufflcient debtor ! 



Sic incivil StuIlorum Traicomedia. 

T WAS l.ny chance, unhappy chance to l.ne .t 
As, all alone, I wandered ,on my way; 
To pass a grove where LOVE in al.nbush lay: 
"vVho ail.ning at l.ne with his feathered dart, 
Conveyed it by mnine eye unto l.ny heart. 

Where, retchless boy ! he let the arroxv stick, 
When I, as one amazèd, senseless stood. 
The hurt was great, yet seel.nèd but a prick ! 
The wound vas deep, and yet appeared no blood 
But inwardly it bleeds. Proofteacheth this. 
When wounds do so, the danger greater is. 

Pausing a while, and grievèd with my wound, 
I looked about, expecting sorne relief: 
Small hope of help, no ease of pain I found. 
Like, all at once, to perish in my grief: 
When hastily, I pluckèd forth the dart ; 
But left the head fast fixèd in lmy heart. 



262 A zz o x z s P x-ï z u z) z u t. [,j.c. 
• z595. 

Fast fixèd in my heart, I left the head, 
From whence I doubt it xvill hot be removed. 
Ah, what unlucky chance that way me led ? 
0 LovE! thy force thou might'st elsewhere bave proved! 
And shewed thy power, where thou art not obeyed ! 
" The conquest's small, where no resist is ruade." 

But nought, alas, avails it to complain ; 
I rest resolved, with patience to endure. 
The tire being once dispersed through every vein, 
It is too late to hope for present cure. 
NOW PHILOPARTHEN must new follies prove, 
And learn a little, what it is to love ! 



263 

These Sonncts followin were written by 1Ire Author 
(who givelh himself this feigned naine of Pmz o,.4x rz¢E2v 
as his accidental attribule), al divers limes, and upon 
divers occasions ; and therefore in lhe form and 
matler thcy diffe,; and sometimes are fuite 
contra,y one to anal/ter: wkich ouffht hot to 
be misliked, considering lhe very nature 
and qualily of Love ; whick is 
a Passion full of varicly, 
and conlraricly 
in itsclf. 

NHAPPY Eyes! that first my heart betrayed, 
Had you not seen, my grief had not been such! 
And yet, how may I, justly, you upbraid ! 
Since xvhat I saw delighted me so much ? 
But hence, alas, proceedeth all my smart : 
Unhappy Eyes! that first betrayed my 
heart ! vt ,,ial. ,,t 
abstulit e. 
II. 
To seek adventures, as Fate hath assigned, 
My slender Bark now floats upon the main ; 
Each troubled thought, an Oar; each sigh, a Wind, 
Whose often puffs have rent my Sails in twain. 
Lov steers the Boat, which (for that sight, he lacks) 
Is still in danger of ten thousand wracks. 

III. 
\Vhat sudden chance hath changed my wonted cheer, 
\Vhich makes me other than I seem to be ? 
My days of joy, that once were bright and clear, 
Are turned to nights ! my mirth, to misery ! 
Ah, well I ween that somevhat is amiss ; 
But, sooth to say, I know hot what it is ! 



IV. 
What, ara I dead ? Then could I feel no smart! 
But stl in me the sense of grief reviveth. 
Ami alive? Ah, no! Ihavenoheart; 
For she that hath it, me of lire depriveth. 
O that she would restore my heart again ; 
Or give me hers, to countervail my pain ! 

Vo 
If it be Love, to waste long hours in grief; 
If it be Love, to wish, and not obtain ; 
If it be Love, fo pine without relief; 
If it be Love, fo hope and never gain ; 
Then may you think that he hath truly loved, 
Who, for your sake ! all this and more, hath proved ! 

VI. 
If that, in ought, mine eyes have done amiss ; 
Let them receive deservèd punishment! 
For so the perfect rule of Justice is, 
Each for his own deeds, should be praised, or shent. 
Then, doubtless, is it both 'gainst Law and Sense, 
My Heart should surfer for mine Eyes' orfence. 

VII. 
I ara hot sick, and yet I am not sound ; 
I eat and sleep, and yet, methinks, I thrive not. 
I sport and laugh, and yet my griefs abound ; 
I ara not dead, and yet, methinks, I live not. 
"Y¢hat uncouth cause hath these strange passions bred, 
To make at once, sick, sound, alive, and dead ?" 

VIII. 
;omething I want ; but what, I cannot say. 
O, now I know ! It is myself I want ! 
My Love, with her, bath ta'en my heart away ; 
Yea, heart and all, and left me very scant. 
" 8uch power hath Love, and nought but Love alone 
To make divided creatures lire in one." 



J. Co 
 »»j z c z z z.4. 65 
A 

IX. 
PHILOPAR- «Come, gentle Death! and strike me with thy 
THEN. dart ! 
Lire is but loathsome to a man opprest." 
I)EATH. " How can I kill thee! when thou hast no heart ? 
That which thou hadst, is in another's breast !" 
PHILOPAR-"Then, must I live, and languish still in 
THEN. pain ?" 
I)EATH. " Yea, till thy Love restore thy heart again ! " 

Xo 
Were Love a Fire, my tears might quench it lightly ; 
Or were it Water, my hot heart might dry it. 
If Air, then might it pass away more slightly ; 
Or were it Earth, the world might soon descry it. 
If Fire nor Water, Air nor Earth it be ; 
What then is it, that thus tormenteth me ? 

XI. 
To paint her outvard shape and gifts of mind, 
It doth exceed my wit and cunning far. 
She hath no fault, but that she is unkind. 
Ail other parts in her so complete are, 
That who, to viev them throughly would devise, 
Must have his body nothing else but eyes. 

XII. 
Fair is my Love ! whose parts are so well framed, 
By Nature's special order and direction; 
That She herself is more than hall ashamed, 
In having made a work of such perfection. 
And well may Nature blush at such a feature ; 
Seeing herself excellëd in her creature. 

XIII. 
Her body is straight, slender, and upright ; 
Her visage comely, and her looks demure 
Mixt with a cheerful grace that yields delight ; 
Her eyes, like stars, bright, shining, clear and pure: 
Which I describing, LOvE bids stay my pen, 
And says, "It's not a work for mortal men !" 



266 / z crz rt. [, j.o.. ,,9» 

XIV. 
The ancient poets write of Graces three, 
Which meeting all together in one ereature, 
In all points, perfect make the Frame to be ; 
For inward virtues, and for outward feature 
But smile, ALCILIA ! and the world shall see 
That in thine eyes, a hundred Graces be ! 
XV. 
As LOVE had drawn his bow, ready to shoot, 
Aiming at me, with resolute intent ; 
Straight, bow and shaft he east down at his foot, 
And said, "\Vhy, needless, should one shaft be spent ? 
l'll spare it then, and noxv it shall suffiee 
Instead of shafts, to use ALCILA'S eyes." 
XVI. 
Blush not, my Love ! for fear lest PHOEBUS spy t. 
Which if he do, then, doubtless, he will say, 
" Thou seek'st to dim his clearness with thine eye !" 
That clearness, which, from East, brings gladsome day: 
But most of all, lest JovE should see, I dread ; 
And take thee up to heaven like GANYMEDE. 
" XVII. 
PHILOPARTHEN. " What is the cause ALCILIA is displeased?" 
LovE. "Because she wants that which should 
most content her." [eased ]" 
PHILOPARTHEN. " 0 did I knov it, soon should she be 
LOVE. " Perhaps, thou dost ! and that doth most 
torment ber." 
PHLOPARTHEN. " Yet, let ber ask ! what she desires to bave." 
LOVE. " Guess, by thyself ! For maidens muet not 
crave ! " 

XVIII. 
My Love, by chance, her tender finger pricked ; 
As, in the dark, I strivèd for a kiss: 
Whose blood, I seeing, offered to have licked, 
But-half in anger, she refusèd this. 
0 that she knew the difference of the smart 
'Twixt her pricked finger, and my piercèd heart ! 



XIX. 
PHILOPAR- «, I pray thee, tell! What makes my heart to 
THEN. tremble, 
,Vhen, on a sudden, I, ALCILIA spy ? " 
LOVE. " Because thy heart cannot thy joy dissemble ! 
Thy life and death are both lodged in her eye." 
PHILOPAR-" Dost thou hot her, with self-same passion 
THEN. strike ? " 
LOVE. *' O, no ! Her heart and thine are not alike." 

XX. 
Such are thy parts of body and of mind ; 
That if I should not love thee as I do, 
I should too much degenerate Irom Kind, 
And think the world would blame my xveakness too. 
For he, whom such perfections cannot move, 
ls either senseless, or not born to love. 

XXI . 
2LCILIA'S eyes have set my heart on tire, 
The pleasing object that my pain doth feed : 
Yet still to see those eyes I do desire, 
As if my help should Irom my hurt proceed. 
Happy were I, might there in her be found 
A will to heal, as there was power to wound. 

XXII. 
Unwise was he, that painted Love a boy ; 
Who, for his strength, a giant should have been. 
It's strange a child should work so great annoy ; 
Yet howsoever strange, too truly seen. 
" But xvhat is he ? that dares at LOVE repine ; 
Whose works are wonders, and himself divine ! " 

XXIII. 
My fair ALCILIA ! gladly would I know it, 
If ever Loving Passion pierced thy heart ? 
O, no! For, then, thy kindness soon would show it 
And of my pains, thyself wouldst bear some part. 
Full little knoweth he that hath hOt proved, 
Vhat hell it is to love, and hot be loved. 



XXIV. 
Love ! Art thou blind ? Nay, thou canst see too well ! 
And they are blind that so report of thee ! 
'rhat thou dost see, myself by proof can tell ; 
(A hapless proof thereof is ruade by me) ; 
For sure I am, hadst thou not had thy sight, 
Thou never couldst have lait my heart so right. 

XXV. 
Long bave I languished, and endured much smart 
Since hapless I, the Cruel Fair did love ; 
And lodged her in the centre of my heart. 
Who, there abiding, Reason should ber move. 
Though of my pains she no compassion take ; 
Yct to respect me, for her own sweet sake. 

XXVI. 
In midst of winter season, as the snow, 
\Vhose milk white mant|e overspreads the ground ; 
In part, the colour of my love is so. 
Yet their effects, I have contrary round : 
For when the sun appears, snow melts anon ; 
But I melt always when my sun is gone. 

XXVII. 
The sweet content, at first, I seemed to prove 
(While yet Desire unfledged, could scarcely fly)» 
Did make me think there was no lire to Love ; 
Till ail too late, Time taught the contrary. 
For, like a fly, I sported with the flame ; 
Till, like a fool, I perished in the same. 

XXVIII. 
After dark night, the cheerful day appeareth 
After an ebb, the river flows again ; 
After a storm, the cloudy heaven cleareth: 
All labours have their end, or ease of pain. 
Each creature hath relief and rest, save I» 
,Vho only dying, live ; and living, die ! 



 ,»9».J z c I z 1.4. 6 9 

XXIX. 
Sometimes I seek for ¢ompany to sport, 
\Vhereby I might my pensive thoughts beguile ; 
Sometimes, again, I hide me from resort, 
And muse alone : but yet, alas, the while 
In ehanging place, I cannot change my mind ; 
For wheresoe'er I fly, myself I find. 

XXX. 
Fain would I speak, but straight my heart doth tremble, 
And checks my tongue that should my griefs reveal : 
And so I strive my Passions to dissemble, 
Which ail the art I have, cannot conceal. 
Thus standing mute, my heart xvith longing starveth 
"It grieves a man fo ask, what he deserveth." 
XXXI. 
Since you desire of me the cause to know, 
For xvhich these divers Passions I have proved ; 
Look in your glass! which xvill hot fail to show 
The shadoved portrait oi my best beloved. 
If that suffice not, look into my heart 
Where it's engraven by a new round art. 

XXXII. 
The painful ploughman hath his heart's delight ; 
\Vho, though his daily toil his body tireth, 
Yet merrily comes whistling home at night, 
And sweetly takes the ease his pain requireth : 
But neither days nor nights can yield me test ; 
]3orn to be wretched, and to live opprest ! 

XXXIII. 
0 xvell were it, if Nature xvould devise 
That men with men together might engender, 
As grafts of trees, one trom anther rise; 
Then nought, of due, to women should we render . 
But, vain conceit ! that Nature should do this ; 
Since, well we know, herself a woman is ! 



7o 

XXXIV. 
Upon the altar where LOVE'S rires burnèd, 
My Sighs and Tears for sacrifice I offered ; 
When LOVE, in rage, from me his eountenance turnèd, 
And did reject what I so humbly proffered. 
If he, my heart expect, Mas, t's gone ! 
" How ean a man give that, is hot his own ?" 

XXXV. 
ALCILIA said, " She did hOt know my mind, 
]3ecause my words did hot declare my love !" 
Thus, where I merit most, least help I find ; 
And her unkindness ail too late I prove. 
Grant, LOVE! that She, of whom thou art neglected, 
May one day love, and little be respected ! 

XXXVI. 
The Cynic * being asked, "When he should love ?" 
Made answer, " When he nothing had to do ; 
For Love was Sloth ! " But he did never prove 
By his experience, xvhat belonged thereto. 
otio$orum 
For had he tasted but so much as I, 
He would have soon reformed his heresy. 

XXXVII. 
0 judge me hot, sweet Love, by outward show! 
Though sometimes strange I seem, and to neglect thee ! 
Yet didst thou, but my inward Passions know, 
Thou shouldst perceive how highly I respect thee ! 
" When looks are fixed, the heart ofttimes doth tremble ! " 
" Little loves he, that cannot much dissemble!" 

XXXVIII. 
Parting from thee ! even from myself I part. 
Thou art the star, by which my life is guided 
I have the body, but thou hast the heart ! 
The better part is from itself divided. 
Thus do I live, and this I do sustain, 
Till gracious Fortune make us meet again ! 



JoC, 

XXXIX. 
Open the sluices of my feeble eyes, 
And let my tears have passage fl'om their fountain 
Fill all the earth, with plaints ! the air, with cries 
Which may pierce rocks, and reach the highest mountain 
That so, Lov.'s vrath, by these extremes appeased 
My griefs may cease, and my poor heart be eased. 

XL. 
"After long sickness, health brings more delight." 
" Seas seem more calm, by storms once overblown." 
"The day more cheerful, by the passed night." 
" Each thing is, by his contrary best known." 
"Continual ease is pain : Change sometimes meeter." 
" Discords in music make music sveeter." 

XLI. 
Fear to offend forbids my tongue to speak, 
And signs and sighs must tell my inward woe : 
But (ay the while) my heart vith grief doth break, 
And she, by signs, my sorrov will not know. 
" The stillest streams we see in deepest fords ; 
And Love is greatest, when it wanteth words." 

XLII. 
" No pain so great but may be eased by Art." 
"Though much ve surfer, yet despair ve should not." 
" In midst of griefs, Hope ahvays hath some part ; 
And Time may heal, what Art and Reason could not." 
0 what is then this Passion I endure, 
Which neither Reason, Art, nor Time can cure ? 

XLIII. 
Pale Jealousy ! Fiend of the eternal Night 
Misshapen creature, born before thy time ! 
The Imp of Horror ! Foe to sweet Delight 
Making each error seem an heinous crime. 
Ah, too great pity ! (vere there remedy), 
That ever Love should keep Thee company 



J Co 

XLIV. 
The days are now corne to their shortest date ; 
And must, in time, by course, increase again. 
]Sut only I continue at one state, 
Void of all hope of help, or case of pain ; 
For days of joy must still be short with me, 
And nights of sorrow must prolongèd be. 

XLV. 
Sleep now, my Muse ! and henceforth take thy rest ! 
"Vhich all too long thyself in vain hath wasted. 
Let it suflïce I still must live opprest ; 
And of my pains, the fruit must ne'er be tasted. 
Then sleep, my Muse ! " Fate cannot be withstood." 
" It's better sleep ; than wake, and do no good." 

XLVI. 
\Vhy should I love, since She doth prove ungrateful : 
Since, for reward, I reap nought but disdain. 
Love thus to be requited, it is hateful ! 
And Reason would, I should not love in vain. 
Yet all in vain, when all is out of season, 
For " Love hath no society with Reason." 

XLVII. 
Heart's Ease and I have been at odds, too long 
I follow fast, but still he flics from me ! 
I sue for grace, and yet sustain the wrong ; 
So gladly would I reconcilèd be. 
Love ! make us one! So shalt thou work a wonder 
Uniting them, that were so far asunder. 

XLVIII. 
" Uncouth, unkist," our ancient Poet * said. * 
And he that hides his wants, when he hath need, 
May, after, have his want of wit bewrayed ; 
And rail of his desire, when others speed. 
Then boldly speak ! " The worst is at first entering ! " 
" Much good success men miss, for lack of venturing [ " 



XLIX. 
Declare the griefs wherewith thou art opprest, 
And let the world be witness of thy woes ! 
Let not thy thoughts lie buried in thy breast ; 
But let thy tongue, thy discontents disclose ! 
For " who conceals his pain when he is gricvcd, 
May well be pitied, but no way rclieved." 

Wretched is he that loving, sets his heart 
On her, whose love, from pure affection swerveth 
Who doth permit each one to have a part 
Of that, which none but he alone deserveth. 
Give all, or none ! For once, of this be sure ! 
Lordship and Love no partners may endure." 

LI. 
Who spends the weary day in pensive thought, 
And night in dreams of horror and affright ; 
Whose wealth is want ; whose hope is corne fo nought ; 
Himself, the mark for Love's and Fortune's spite : 
Let him appear, if any such there be ! 
His case and mine more fitly will agree. 

LII. 
Fair tree, but fruitless! sometimes full of sap ! 
V¢hich now yields nought at ail, that may delight me | 
Some cruel frost, or some untimely hap 
Hath made thee barren, only to despitc me ! 
Such trees, in vain, with hope do feed Desirc ; 
And serve for fuel to increase Love's tire. 

LIII. 
In company (whiles sad and mute I sit, 
My thoughts elsewhere, than there I seem fo be) 
Possessed with some deep melancholy fit ; 
One of my friends observes the saine in me, 
And says in jest, which I in earnest prove, 
" He looks like one, that had lost his First Love ! " 
£v. GR. IV. 18 



274 ,4 z c zz z, r J'c" 

LIV. 
'Tvixt I-tope and Fear, in doubtful balance peazed, 
My fate, my fortune, and my love depends. 
Sometimes my Hope is raised, when Love is pleased ; 
Vrhich Fear weighs down, when ought his xvill offends. 
The heavens are sometimes clear, and sometimes lower ; 
And "he that loves, must taste both sweet and sour ! " 

LV. 
Retire, my wandering Thoughts ! unto your rest 
Do nbt, henceforth, consume yourselves in vain 
No mortal man, in ail points, can be blest ; 
What now is mine, may be another's pain. 
The watery clouds are clear, when storms are past 
And " things, in their extremes, long cannot last." 

LVI. 
The tire of Love is first bred in the Eye, 
And thence conveys his heat unto the Heart, 
Where it lies hid, till time his force descry. ,;s,,,. 
The Tongue thereto adds fuel for his part ; 
The touch of Lips, xvhich doth succeed the saine, 
Kindles the rest, and soit proves a flame. 

LVII. 
The tender Sprigs that sprouted in the field, 
And promised hope of fruit to him that planted ; 
Instead of fruit, doth nought but blossoms yield, 
Though care, and pain to prune them never wanted : 
Even so; my hopes do nought but blossoms prove 
And yield no fruits to recompense my love. 

LVIII. 
Though ]itI]e sign of ]ove in show appear ; 
Yet think, True Love, of colours hath no need ! 
It's not the glorious garments, which men wear» 
That makes them other than they are indeed : 
" In meanest show, the most affection dweIls ; 
And Hchest pearls are round in simplest shells." 



JoC. 
LIX. 
Let not thy tongue, thy inward thoughts disclose 
Or tell the sorrows that thy heart endures 
Let no man's ears be wRness of thy voes 
Since pity, neither help nor ease procures 
And "only he is, truly, said to moan, 
Whose griefs none knoweth but himself alone." 

LX. 
A thousand times; I curse these idle rhymes, 
Which do their Maker's follies vain set forth ; 
Yet bless I them again, as many tlmes, 
For that in them, I blaze ALCILIA'S worth. 
Meanwhile, I tare, as doth the torch by night, 
Which wastes itself in giving others light. 

2f A R TIA L. 
llle doler 
ere, ui sine 
t«*t« dalet. 

LXII. 
Loyers, lainent ! You that have truly Iove(] ] 
For PHILOPARTHEN, now, hath lost his love: 
The greatest loss that ever loyer proved. 
0 let his hard hap some compassion more ! 
\¥ho had hOt rued the loss of her so much ; 
But that he knows the vorld yields no more such. 

LXIII. 
Upon the ocean of conceited error, 
My weary spirits, many storms have past ; 
Which now in harbour, free from wonted terror, 
Joy the possession of their test at last. 
And, henceforth, safely may they lie ai road ! 
And never rove for " Had I wist ! " abroad ! 

LXI. 
Enough of this ! For all is nough regarded ! 
And She, hot once, with my complaints is moved. 
Die, hapless love! since thou art hot rewarded ; 
Yet ere thou die, to witness that I ]oved ! 
Report my truth ! and tel] the Fair unkind, 
That " She hath lost, what none but She sha]l find ! " 

275 

Alteri 
imerviens 
cou ficio. 



L o 7's ./lccusation al the udgement Seat 
of R   8 o v ; wherein the quthor's whole 
success in his love is covertv 
deciphered. 
[Cmpare this, with GSCOmF.'s poem, Fol. L]. 63. ] 
N Raso's Court, myself being Plaintiff 
there, 
Lov was, by process, summoned to appear. 
That so the wrongs, which he had done to me, 
Might be made known; and all the world 
might see : 
And seeing, rue what to my cost I proved  
\Vhile faithful, but unfortunate I love& 

After I had obtainèd audience ; 
I thus began to give in evidence. 

[ The Author's z,ht«-tce aai, tst L ove.] 

" Most sacred Queen ! and Sovereign of man's heart 
Which of the mind dost rule the better part ! 
First bred in heaven, and from thence, hither sent 
To guide men's actions by thy regiment ! 
Vouchsafe a while to hear the sad cornplaint 
Of him that Lovv. hath long kept in restraint ; 



And, as to you it properly belongs, 
Grant justice of my undeservèd wrongs ! 
It's now two years, as I remember well, 
Since first this wretch, (sent from the nether hell, 
To plague the wodd with new-round cruelties), 
Under the shadow of two crystal Eyes, 
13etrayed my Sense ; and, as I slumbering lay, 
Feloniously conveyed my heart away ; 
VZhich most unjustly he detained from me, 
And exercised thereon strange tyranny. 
Sometime his manner was, in sport and gaine, 
With briars and thorns, to raze and prick the same ; 
Sometime with nettles of Desire to sting it ; 
Sometime with pincons* of Despair to wring it ; to»««,.j 
Sometime again, he would anoint the sore, 
And heal the place that he had hurt before : 
13ut hurtful helps ! and ministered in vain ! 
Which servèd only to renew my pain. 
For, after that, more wounds he added still ; 
Which piercèd deep, but had no power to kill. 
Unhappy medicine! which, instead of cure, 
Gives strength to make the patient more endure! 
But that which xvas most strange of all the test 
(Myself being thus 'twixt lire and death distrest), 
Ofttimes, xvhen as my pain exceeded measure, 
He would persuade me that the saine was pleasure ; 
My solemn sadness, but contentment meet ; 
My travail, test ; and ail my sour, sweet ; 
My wounds, but gentle strokes : whereat he smiled, 
And by these slights, my careless youth beguiled. 
Thus did I rare, as one that living died, 
(For greater pains, I think, hath no man tried) 



278 .4 z c z z z. [»c. 
• z595. 
Disquiet thoughts, like furies in my breast 
Nourished the poison that my spirits possesst. 
Now Grief, then Joy ; now War, then Peace unstable, 
Nought sure I had, but tobe miserable. 
I cannot utter ail, I must confess. 
Men may conceive more than they can express ! 
But (to be short), which cannot be excused, 
With vain illusions, LovE, my hope abused ; 
Persuading me I stood upon firm ground 
\Vhen, unawares, myself on sands I round. 
This is the point which most I do enforce ! 
That Love, without ail pity or remorse, 
Did suffer me to languish still in grief 
Void of contentment, succour, or relief: 
And when I looked my pains should be rewarded, 
I did perceive, that they were nought regarded. 
For why? Alas, these hapless eyes did see 
ALCILIA loved another more than me! 
So in the end, when I expected most ; 
My hope, my love, and fortune thus were crost." 
Proceeding further, REASON bad me stay 
For the Defendant had some thing to say. 
Then to the Judge, for justice, loud I cried ! 
And so I pausèd : and LOVE thus replied. 
"Since R.ASOl ought to lend indifferent ears 
Unto both parties, and judge as truth appears ; 
çlost gracious Lady! give me leave to speak, 
And answer his Complaint, that seeks to wreak 
His spire and malice on me, without cause ; 



t,»9».] .4 z c z z z . 79 
In charging me fo have transgressed thy laws ! 
Of all his follies, he imputes the blame 
To me, poor LOVE ! that nought d.serves the same. 
Himself it is, that hath abusèd me! , 
As by mine answer, shall well proved be. 
Fond youth ! thou knowest what I for thee effected 
Though, now, I find it little be regpected. 
I purged thy wit, which was belote but gross. 
The metal pure, I severed from the dross, 
And did inspire thee with my sweetest tire 
That kindled in thee Courage and Desire: 
Not like unto those servile Passions 
Which cumber men's imaginations 
"With Avarice, Ambition, and Vainglo:'y ; 
Desire of things fleeting and transitory. 
No base conceit, but such as Powers above 
Have known and felt, I mean, th' Instinct of Love; 
Which making men, ail earthly things despise, 
Transports them to a heavenly paradise. 
Where thou complain'st of sorrows in thy heart, 
Who lives on earth but therein hath his part ? 
Are these thy fruits ? Are these thy best rewards 
For all the pleasing glances, sly regards, 
The sweet stol'n kisses, amorous conceits, 
So many smiles, so many fair intreats, 
Such kindness as ALCILA did bestow 
AI1 for my sake ! as well thyself dost know ? 
That LOVE should thus be used, it is hateful ! 
But 'all is lost, that's donc for one ungrateful.' 
Where he allegeth that he was abusèd 
In that he truly loving, was refusèd : 
That's most untrue ! and plainly may be tried. 



8o 

L ClLI,4. 

Who never asked, could never be denied ! 
But he affected rather single life, 
Than yoke of marriage, matching with a wife. 
And most men, now, make love to none but heires[ses] 
Poor love ! GOD wot ! that poverty empairs. 
Worldly respects, Love little doth regard. 
' Who loves, hath only love for his reward ! ' 
He merits a lover's naine, indeed ! 
That casts no doubts, which vain suspicion 
breed : 
But desperately at hazard, throws the dice, 
Neglecting due regard of friends' advice ; 
That wrestles with his fortune and his fate, 
Which had ordained to better his estate ; 
That hath no care of wealth, no fear of lack, 
But ventures forward, though he see his wrack ; 
That xvith Hope's wings, like ICARVS doth fly, 
Though for his rashness, he like fortune try ; 
That, to his faine, the world of him may tell 
How, while he soared aloft, adown he fell. 
And so True Love awarded him his doom 
In scaling heaven, to bave ruade the sea his tomb 
That making shipwreck of his dearest fame, 
Betrays himself to poverty and shame ; 
That hath no sense of sorrow, or repent, 
No dread of perils far or imminent ; 
But doth prefer before ail pomp or pelf, 
The sweet of love as dearer than himself. 
Who, were his passage stopped by sword and tire, 
Would make way through, to compass his Desire. 
For which he would (though heaven and earth forbad it) 
Hazard to lose a kingdom, if he had it. 



J.C 

A z cIz . 28x 

These be the things wherein I glory most, 
Whereof, this my Accuser cannot boast : 
Who was indifferent to his loss or gain ; 
And better pleased to rail, than to obtain. 
All qualified affections, LOVE doth hate! 
And likes him best that's most intemperate. 
But hence, proceeds his malice and despite ; 
While he himself bars of his own delight. 
For when as he, ALCILIA first affected, 
(Like one in show, that love little respected) 
He masqued, disguised, and entertained his thought 
With hope of that, which he in secret sought ; 
And still forbare to utter his desire, 
Till his delay receive her worthy hire. 
And well we know, what maids themselves would have, 
Men must sue for, and by petition crave. 
But he regarding more his Wealth, than Will; 
Hath little care his Fancy to fulfil. 
Yet when he saw ALCILIA loved another; 
The secret tire, which in his breast did smother, 
]3egan to smoke, and soon had proved a flame: 
If Temperance had hot allayed the saine. 
Vv'hich, afterward, so quenched he did hot find 
But that some sparks remainèd still behind. 
Thus, when time served, he did refuse to crave it; 
And yet envied another man should have it ! 
As though, fair maids should wait, at young men's 
pleasure, 
Whilst they, 'twixt sport and earnest, love at leisure. 
ay, at the first! when it is kindly proffered ! 
Maids must accept ; least twice, it be not offered ! 
Else though their beauty seem their good t'importune, 



282- .4 z c « z « A [ :»c. 
• 1595.. 

Yet may they lose the better of their fortune. 
Thus, as this Fondling coldly went about it ; 
8o in the end, he clearly went without it. 
For while he, doubtful, seemed to make a stay, 
A Mongrel stole the maiden's heart away ; 
For which, though he lamented much in shev, 
Yet was he, inward, glad it fell out so. 
lkIow, REASON ! yOU may plainly judge by this, 
Not I, but he, the false dissembler is : 
"vVho, while fond hope lais lukewarm love did feed, 
Made sign of more than he sustained indeed : 
And filled his rhymes with fables and with lies, 
Which, without Passion, he did oft devise ; 
So to delude the ignorance of such 
'I'hat pitied him, thinking he loved too much. 
And with conceit, rather to shew his Wit, 
Than manifest his faithful Love by if. 
Much more than this, could I lay to his charge ; 
I3ut rime would fail to open ail at large. 
Let this suffice fo prove his bad intent, 
And prove that Love is clear and innocent." 

Thus, at the length, though late, he made an end, 
And both of us did earnestly, attend 
'I'he final judgement, REAsOI should award : 
Vhen thus she 'gan to speak. " With due regard, 
'I'he matter hath been heard, on either side. 
Fcr judgement, you must longer rime abide ! 
'I'he cause is weighty, and of great import." 
And so she, smiling, did adjourn the Court. 

Little availed it, then, to argue more; 
So I returned in worse case than before. 



JoCo 

L ove Deciphered. 

'OvE and I are now divided, 
Conceit, by Error, was misguided. 
ALCILIA hath my love despised ! 
" No man loves, that is advised." 
" Time at length, hath Truth detected." 
Love hath missed what he expected. 
Yet missing that, which long he sought ; 
I have round that, I little thought. 
" Errors, in time, may be redrest," 
" The shortest follies are the best." 

Love and Youth are now asunder ; 
Reason's glory, Nature's wonder. 
My thoughts, long bound, are now enlarged ; 
My Folly's penance is discharged : 
Thus Time hath altered my estate. 
" Repentance never cornes too late." 
Ah, well I find that Love is nought 
But folly, and an idle thought. 
The difference is 'txvixt LOVE and me, 
That he is blind, and I can see. 

Love is honey mixed with gall ! 
A thraldom free, a freedom thrall ! 
A bitter sweet, a pleasant souri 
Got in a year, lost in an hour ! 
A peaceful war, a warlike peace ! 
Vhose wealth brings xvant ; whose vant, increase ! 
Full long pursuit, and little gain ! 
Uncertain pleasure, certain pain! 
Regard of neither right nor wrong ! 
For short delights, repentance long ! 



284 .4 z czz z. [ j.c.,»9» 

Love is the sickness of the thought ! 
Conceit of pleasure, dearly bought ! 
A restless Passion of the mind ! 
A labyrinth of errors blind ! 
A sugared poison ! fair deceit ! 
A bait for fools ! a furious heat ! 
A chilling cold ! a wondrous passion 
Exceeding man's imagination ! 
\Vhich none can tell in whole, or part, 
13ut only he that feels the smart. 

Love is sorrow mixt with gladness ! 
Fear, with hope! and hope, with madness ! 
Long did I love, but all in vain ; 
I loving, was not loved again : 
For which my heart sustained much woe. 
It fits hOt maids to use men so ! 
Just deserts are hOt regarded, 
Never love so ill rewarded ! 
But " ail is lost that is hOt sought ! " 
" Oft wit proves best, that's dearest bought ! " 

\Vomen were made for men's relief; 
To comfort, hot fo cause their grief. 
Where most I merit, least I find: 
No marvel ! since that love is blind. 
Had She been kind, as She was fair, 
My case had been more strange and rare. 
But women love hot by desert ! 
Reason in them bath weakest part! 
Then, henceforth, let them love that list, 
I will beware of " Had I wist !" 



JoCo 
' z595.] 

CIL IAo 

These faults had better been concealed, 
Than to my shame abroad revealed. 
Yet though my youth did thus miscarry, 
My harms may make others more wary. 
Love is but a youthful fit, 
And some men say " It's sign of wit !" 
But he that loves as I have done; 
To pass the day, and see no sun : 
Must change his note, and sing Erravi ! 
Or else .may chance to cry Peccavi ! 

85 

The longest day must have his night, 
Reason triumphs in Love's despite. 
I follow now Discretion's lore ; 
" Henceforth to like ; but love no more ! " 
Then gently pardon what is past ! 
For Love draws onwards to his last. 
" He walks," they say, " with wary eye ; 
Whose footsteps never tread awry !" 
My Muse a better work intends : 
And here my Loving Folly ends. 

After long storms and tempests past, 
I see the haven at the last ; 
Where I must rest my weary bark, 
And there unlade my care and cark. 
My pains and travails long endured, 
And all my wounds must there be cured. 
Joys, out of date, shall be renewed ; 
To think of perils past eschewed. 
V¢hen I shall sit full blithe and jolly, 
And talk of lovers and their folly. 



286 

..,4 

Then Love and FOLLY, both adieu 1 
Long.have I been misled by you. 
FOLLY may new adventures try! 
But REASON says that " Love must die ! " 
Yea, die indeed, although grieve him; 
For my cold heart cannot relieve him ! 
Yet for ber sake, whom once I loved, 
(Though all in vain, as time hath proved) 
l'll take the pain, if She consent ! 
To write his Will and Testament. 

Lo»Tï's lasl IVill and TcstamcnL 

Y SPIRIT, I bequeath unto the air! 
My Body shall unto the earth repair ! 
,My Burning .Brand, unto the Prince of Hell ; 
T increase men s pains that there in darkness 
dwell ! 
For well I ween, above nor under ground, 
A greater pain than that, may not be round. 
My sweët Conceits of Pleasure and Delight, 
To EREBUS! and to Eternal Night ! 
My Sighs, my Tears, my Passions, and Laments, 
Distrust, Despair; all these my hourly rents, 
}Vith other plagues that loyers' minds enthral : 
Unto OBLIVION, I bequeath them ail ! 
My broken Bow, and Shafts, I give to REASOI ! 
My Cruelties, my Slights, and forgèd Treason, 
T0 Womankind ! and to their seed, for aye ! 
To wreak their spite, and work poor men's decay. 
Reserving only for ALClLIA'S part, 
Small kindness, and less care of lovers' smart. 



JoU- 
r z 595.- 

A L c IL IA o 

For She is from the vulgar sort excepted ; 
And had She, 13HILOPARTHEN'S love respected, 
Requiting it with like affection, 
She might have had the praise of ail perfection. 
This done ; if I have any Faith and Troth ; 
To 13HILOPARTHEN, I assign them both. t 
For unto him, of right, they do belong 
Who loving truly, suffered too much wrong. 
TME shall be sole Executor of my will ; 
Who may these things, in order due fulfil, 
To warrant this my Testament for good ; 
I have subscribed it, with my dying blood." 

287 

And so he died, that ail this baie had bred. 
And yet my heart misdoubts he is not dead : 
For, sure, I fear, should I ALCILIA spy ; 
She might, eftsoons, revive him with ber eye ! 
Such poxver divine remaineth in her sight ; 
To make him live again, in Death's despite. 



=88 

The Sonncls followhtz wcre writtcn y the Author, 
aftcr he 3can to dedinc fi'o»z his Passionale 
Affection ; and in them, he seemdh 
lease himseoE wilh dcscri3ing the 
Vani of Love, the Frailty 
 cauty, and 
sour fruits ( 
Rcpcntance. 

Ow have I spun the web of my own woes, 
And laboured lon,« to purchase my own loss. 
Too late I see, I was beguiled with shows. 
And that which once seemed gold, now 
proves but dross. 
Thus ara I, both of help and hope bereaved. 
" He never tried that never was deceived. 

flda, non vient 
I I . ingannata. 
Once did I love, but more than once repent ; 
When vintage came, my grapes were sour, or rotten. 
Long time in grief and pensive thoughts I spent ; 
And ail for that, which Time hath ruade forgotten. 
0 strange effects of time ! which, once being lost, 
Make men secure of that they lov6d most. 

III. 

'Thus have I long in th'air of Error hovered, 
And run my ship upon Repentance's shelf. 
Truth hath the veil of Ignorance uncovered, 
And made me see; and seeing, know myself. 
Of former follies, now, I must repent, 
And count this work, part of my rime iii spent. 



289 

IV. 
What thing is LOVE ? " A tvrant of the Mind ! " 
" Begot by heat of Youth : b'oug.ht forth by Sloth ; 
Nursed vith vain Thoughts, and changing as the wind ! '" 
" A deep Dissembler, void of faitb and troth ! " 
" Fraught with fond crrors, doubts, despite, disdain, 
And ail the plagues that earth and hell contain I" 

Like to a man that xvanders all the day 
Through xvays unknown, to seek a thing of xvorth, 
_And, at the night, sees he hath gone astray; 
As near his end, as when he first set forth : 
8uch is my case, whose hope nntimely crost, 
After long errors, proves my labour lost. 

Failed of that hap, whereto mv bope aspired, 
Deprived of that which might'have been mine own : 
Another, now, must have what I desired ; 
And things too late, by their events are known. 
Thus do ve vish for that cannot be got ; 
And wben it may, then we regard it not. 

VII. 
Ingrateful Lovn ! since thou hast played thy part ! 
(Enthralling him, ;vhom Time bath since ruade 
It tests with me, to use both \Vt and Art, 
That of my wrons I may revengèd be : 
And in those eyes, where first thou took'st thy tire! 
Thyself shalt pefish, through my cold desire. 

VIII. 
" Grieve not thyself, for that cannot be had ! 
And things, once cureless, let them cureless rest ! '" 
" Blame not thy fortune, though thou deem it bad ! 
What's past and gone will never be redrest." 
"The only help, for that cannot be gained, 
Is fo forget it might have been obtained." 
z.xo. G.«. iv. 19 



=9o A z c ' z ' .t ]- ..c. 
• . a95. 

IX. 
Hov happy, once, did I myself esteem! 
While Love with Hope, my fond Desire did cherish ; 
My state as blissful as a King's did seem, 
Had I been sure my joys should never perish. 
" The thoughts of men are fed vith expectation." 
" Pleasures themselves are but imagination." 

\Vhy should we hope for that which is to come, 
\Vhere the event is doubtful, and unknown ? 
Such fond presumptions soon receive their doom, 
\Vhen things expected we count as out own ; 
\Vhose issue, ofttimes, in the end proves nought 
13ut hope! a shadow, and an idle thought. 

XI. 
In vain do we complain our lire is short, 
.(Which well disposed, great matters might effect) 
\Vhile we ourselves, in toys and idle sport, 
Consume the better part without respect. 
And careless (as though time should never end it) 
"I'wixt sleep, and waking, prodigally spend it. 

XII. 
Youthful Desire is like the summer season 
That lasts not long ; for vinter must succeed : 
And so our Passions must give place to Reason ; 
And riper years, more ripe effects must breed. 
Of ail the seed, Youth sowed in vain desires, 
I reapèd nought, but thistles, thorns, and briars. 

XIII. 
"To err and do amiss, is given to men by Kind." 
"\Vho walks so sure, but sometimes treads awry ? " 
]3ut to continue still in errors blind, 
A bad and bestial nature doth descry, c,,,,,/,,. 
" Who proves hot ; fails hot- and brings nought ,«/,,««; 
» cki ['alla, 
to eDd : g'at.¢ttda. 
,Vho proves and fails, may, afterward, amend." 



 »9»-J ./] Z ç IZ IA. 29! 

XIV. 
There was but One, and doubtless She the best! 
,Vhom I did more than all the world esteem : 
8he having failed, I disavow the test ; 
For, nmv, I find " things are not as they seem." 
" Default of that, wherein out will is crost, 
Ofttimes, unto out good availeth most." 

XV. 
I rare like him vho, nov his land-hope spent, 
_13y unknovn seas, sails to the Indian shore; 
Returning thence no ficher than he went, 
Yet cannot much lais fortune blame therefore. 
• ince "\Vhoso ventures forth upon the Main, 
Makes a good mart, if he return again." 

XVI. 
Lovers' Conceits are like a flatt'ring Glass, 
That makes the lookers fairer than they are; 
\Vho, pleased in their deceit, contented pass. 
uch once was mine, who thought there was none tait, 
None witty, modest, virtuous but She ; 
Yet now I find the Glass abusèd me. 

XVII. 
Adieu, fond Love ! the Mother of all Error ! 
Replete with hope and fear, with joy and pain. 
False tire of Fancy ! full of care and terror. 
:hadoxv of pleasures fleeting, short, and vain ! 
Die, loathèd Love ! Receive thy latest doom ! 
" Night be thy grave ! and Oblivion be thy tomb !" 

XVIII. 
Who would be rapt up into the third heaven 
To see a world of strange imaginations ? 
Who, careless, would leave all at six and seven, 
To wander in a labyrinth of Passions ? 
Vho would, at once, all kinds of folly prove ; 
"When he hath nought to do, then let him love! 



XIX. 
\Vhat thi.ng is I3eauty ? " Nature's dearest Minion ! " 
" The Snare of Youth ! like the inconstant moon 
\Vaxing and waning ! " " Error of Opinion ! " 
" A Morning's Flower, that withereth ere noon !" 
"A swelling Fruit ! no sooner ripe, than rotten ! " 
" \Vhich sickness makes forlorn, and time forgotten ! '" 

XX. 
The Spring of Youth, which now is in his prime ; 
\Vinter of Age, with hoary frosts shall nip ! 
13eauty shall then be ruade the prey of Time ! 
And sour Remorse, deceitful Pleasures whip ! 
Then, henceforth, let Discretion rule Desire ! 
And Reason quench the flame of CUPID's tire ! 

XXI. 
0 what a life was that sometime I led ! 
\Vhen Love with Passions did my peace encumber 
\Vhile, like a man neither alive nor dead, 
I was rapt from myself, as one in slumber: 
\Vhose idle senses, charmed with fond illusion, 
Did nourish that which bred their own confusion. 

XXII. 
The child, for ever after, dreads the tire ; 
That once therewith by chance his finger burned. 
\Vater of Time distilled doth cool Desire. 
"And far he tan," they say, "that never turned." 
After long storms, I see the port at last. 
Farevell, Folly ! For now my love is past ! 

XXIII. 
Base servile thoughts of men, too much dejected, 
That seek, and crouch, and kneel for women's grace [ 
Of whom, your pain and service is neglected ; 
Yourselves, despised ; rivals, belote your face ! 
The more you sue, the less you shall obtain ! 
The less you win, the more shall be your gain ! 



XXIV. 
In looking back unto my follies past ; 
\Vhile I the present, with times past compare, 
And think how many hours I then did waste 
Painting onclouds, and building in the air : 
I sigh within myself, and say in sadness, 
"This thing which fools call Love, is nought but Madness 

-XXV. 
" The things we have, we most of all neglect ; 
And that we have not, greedily we crave. 
The things we may have, little we respect; 
And still we covet, that we cannot have. 
Yet, howsoe'er, in our conceit, we prize them ; 
No sooner gotten, .but we straight despise them.." 

XXVI. 
Who seats his love upon a woman's will, 
And thinks thereon to build a happy state ; 
Shall be deceived, when least he thinks of ill, 
And rue his folly when it is too late. 
He ploughs on sand, and sows upon the wind, 
That hopes for constant love in \Vomankind. 

XXVII. 
I will no longer spend my rime in to's ! 
Seeing Love is Error, Folly, and Oftence ; 
An idle fit for fond and reckless boys, 
• Or else for men deprived of common sense. 
'Twixt Lunacy and Love, these odds appear ; 
Th' one makes fools, monthly ; th' other, .all the year. 

XXV!II. 
While season served to sow, my plough stood still ; 
My grafts unset, when other's trees did bloom. 
I spent the Spring in sloth, and slept my fill; 
But never thought of \Vinter's cold to corne ; 
Till Spring was past, the Summer well nigh gone ; 
When I awaked, and sav my harvest none.. 



-"94 A z czz z,. [ j.c_,»9 

XXIX. 
Now Love sits all alone, in black attire ; 
His broken boxv, and arroxvs lying by him ; 
His tire extinct, that xvhilom fed Desire ; 
Himself the scorn of loyers that pass by him : 
\Vho, this day, freely may disport and play; 
For itis PmLOPARTHEN'S Holiday. 

XXX. 
Nay, think not LovE! with all thy cunning slight, 
To catch me once again ! Thou coin'st too late 
Stern Industry puts Idleness to flight : 
And Time hath changèd both my naine and state. 
Then seek elsewhere for mates, that may befriend 
thee ! 
Cutdit[ 
For I am busy, and cannot attend thee ! 

XXXI. 
Loose Idleness! the Nurse of fond Desire ! 
Root of all ills that do our youth betide ; 
That, whilom, didst, through love, my wrack conspire : 
I banish thee ! and rather wish t'abide 
All austere hardness, and continual pain ; 
Than to revoke thee ! or to love again [ 

XXXII. 
The time will corne when, looking in a glass, 
Thy rivelled face, with sorrow thou shalt see! 
And sighin, say, " It is not as it was ! 
These cheeks were wont more fresh and fair tobe ! 
But now, what once ruade me so much admired 
Is least regarded, and of none desired ! " 

XXXIII. 
Though thou be fair, think Beauty but a blast ! 
A morning's dew ! a shadow quickly gone ! 
A painted flower, whose colour will not last ! 
Time steals away, when least we think thereon. 
Most precious time ! too wastefully expended ; 
Of which alone, the sparing is commended. 

a*attia. 



XXXIV. 
Hov vain is Youth that, crossed in his Desire, 
Doth fret and fume, and inwardlv repine ; 
As though 'gainst heaven itself, fae would conspire 
And with his fraility, 'gainst his rate combine, 
\Vho of itself continues constant still ; 
And doth us good, ofttimes against our will. 

XXXV. 
In prime of Youth, when years and Wit were ripe, 
Unhappy Will, to ruin led the way. 
\Vit danced about, ,vhen Folly 'gan to pipe; 
And Will and he together went astray. 
Nought then but Pleasure, was the good they sought ! 
\Vhich now Repentance proves too dearly bought. 

XXXVI. 
He that in matters of delight and pleasure, 
Can bridle his outrageous affection; 
And temper it in some indifierent measure, 
Doth prove himself a man of good direction. 
st ,irtu 
In conquering \Vill, true courage most is shown; 
abstinuise 
And sweet temptations makes men's virtues known, 

XXXVII. 
Each natural thing, by course of Kind, we see, 
In his perfection long continueth hot. 
Fruits once full ripe, will then tal] from the tree; 
Or in due rime not gathered, soon will rot. 
It is decreed, by doom of Powers Divine, 
Things at their height, must thence again decline. ,,;,. 

Inr,hIia 

XXXVIII. 
Thy large smooth forehead, wrinkled shall appear ! 
Vermillion hue, to pale and wan shall turn ! 
Time shall deface what Youth bas held most dear ! 
Yea, these clear Eyes (which once my heart did burn) 
Shall, in their hollow circles, lodge the night ; 
And yield more cause of terror, than delight ! 



XXXIX. 
Lo here, the Record of my follies past; 
Ïhe fruits of \Vit unstaid, and hours misspent ! 
Full wise is he that perils can forecast, 
And so, bv others' harms, his own prevent. 
Ail \Vorldly Pleasure that delights the Sense, 
Is but a short Sleep, and Time's vain expense ! 

XL. 
The sun hath txvice his annual course performed, 
Since firSt unhappy I, began to love; 
\Vhose errors now, by Reason's rule reformed, 
Conceit of Love but smoke and shadows prove. 
\Vho, of his folly, seeks more praise to win ; 
Where I have ruade an end, let him begin ! 

Quanta 

FINIS. 



Sir THOMAS OVERBVRY 

HIS 

0 B SER zlTlO NS» 

IN HIS TRAVELS, 

UP O N Tt-ZE S TA TE 0 F TI-]E 

SEENTEEV PROFTNCES 

AS THEY STOOD ANNO DOMINI x6o9; 

THE TREATY OF PEACE BEI.NG 7-HEN ON FOOT. 

Printcd. M.DC.XXVI. 



lin approximately estimating the present value of the money of 16o 9 ; 
sve bave multiplied by 4_/..] 



299 

Sir 

THOMAS OVERBURY's 

0 B S E R 17".,4 TI 0 NS, 

IN HIS TRAVELS, 

UP 0 N THE S TA TE O F 7 HE 

SE VE NTE E N PR 0 VINC E S, 

AS TIfEY 87"00D ANNO, DOM1N1 ,6o9; 

q'HE 'TREATY OF PEACE BEING 'THEN ON FO07. 
• 

.,4nd flrst, Of the Provinces United. 

LL things 

concurred for the rising and 
maintenance of this State: the disposition 
of the people, being as mutinous as 
industrious and frugal; the nature of the 
country, everywhere fortifiable with water ; 
the situation of it, having behind them the 
Baltic sea, which yields them ail materials 
for ships, and many other commodities; 
and tbr men, hard before them France and England, both 
fearing the Spanish greatness, and therefore both concurring 
for their aid; the remoteness of their Master from them; the 
change of religion, falling out about the time of their Revoit ; 
and now the Marquis of BRaNDENUçRGH, a Protestant, likeLly] 
to become [the] Duke of CLEVE. 
The discontentments of the Low Countries did fi.rst appear 
soon after the going away of the Kings of Spain, while the 
Duchess of PaRM.a governed. To suppress which beginnings, 
the Duke of ALV. being sent, inflamed them more apon 



300 CONSTITUTION OF UNITED PROVINCES. E SirT'Overbury" 
6o 9. 

attempting to bring in the Inquisition, and Spanish decima- 
tion; upon the beheading [ofj Count HoIN and Count 
EG,',ONT, persecuting those of the Religion : and undertaking 
to build citadels upon all their towns ; which he effected at 
Antwerp, but enterprising the like at Flushing, that town 
revolted first, and under it began the. war. 
But the more general Revolt of the Provinces happened 
after the death of Don Louis Ira RIQUSCEXS, and upon 
the coming down of Don JoH of Austria: when all the 
.Provinces, excepting Luxemburg (upon the sack of Antwerp 
and other insolences), proclaimed the Spaniards " rebels, and 
enemies to the King." Yet the abiuring "of their obedience 
from the Crown of Spain, was not in a year or two after. 
Holland and Zealand (upon their first standing out) offered 
the Sovereignty of themselves to the Queen, then the Pro- 
tection, both which she neglected ; and that, while the French 
sent greater aid, and more men of quality than we : but after 
-oEhe Ciril \Var bean in France, that kept them busy at home ; 
and then the Queen, seeing the necessity of their being 
supported, upon the pawning of Brill and Flushing, sent 
money hnd men. And since that, most part of the great 
exploits there, have been done by the English, who were 
commonlv the third part of their army ; being four regiments, 
besides i,ioo in Flushing and the Ramekins, and 5oo in the 
Brill. But, of late, the King of France appearing more for 
them than ours, and paying himself the French [soldiers] 
that are there; they give equal, if not more countenance to 
that nation. But upon these two Kings, they make their 
whole dependency : and though with more respect to him that 
is stronger for the time ; vet so, as it may give no distaste 
unto the other. 
For the manner of their Government. Thev have, upon 
ccasion, an Assembly of the General Sta(es, like out 
Parliament; being composed of those which are sent from 
every Province upon summons; and what these lïnact, stands 
for Law. Then is there besides, a Council of State, residing, 
for the most part, at the Hague: which attends [to2 daily 
occasions ; being rather employed upon Affairs of State than 
particular [individual] justice. The most potent in this 
Cuncil was B.«tEVE-D, by reason of his Advocates of 
:Holland. And besides both these, every Province and great 



$1rT. Overbury.-] TIIE DUTCtI AD.tlI'¢ISTRATIO," 3or 
x6o9._1 " 

Town have particular Councils of their own. To ail which 
Assemblies, as xvell of the General States as the rest, the. 
gentry is called for order sake, but the State indeed is 
democratical: the merchant and the tradesman being pre- 
dominant, the gentl'y, now, but fexv and poor; and, even at 
the beginning, the Prince of ORANGE saxv it saler to rely 
upon the towns than JuponS. them. Neither are the gentry 
so much engaged in the Cause: the people having more 
advantages in a Free State; they, in a Monarchy. 
Their care in Government is verv exact and particular, by 
reason that every one hath an immeliate interest in the State. 
Such is the equality of justice, that it renders every man satis- 
fied; such is the public regularity, as a man may see (that] 
their laws were ruade to guide, and hot to entrap ; such their 
exactness in casting the expense of an army, as that it shall 
be equally far from superfluity and want ; and as much order 
and certaint_v in their acts of war, as in ours of peace;. 
teaching it to be both civil and rich. And they still retain 
that sign of a Commonwealth 3"et uncorrupted, " Private 
poverty, and public weal ! " for no one private man there is 
exceeding rich, and few very poor; and no State more 
sumptuous in all public things. But the question is, whether 
this, being" a free State, will, as well subsist in peace, as it hath 
hitherto done in war. Peace leaving" every one to attend -tOi 
his particular wealth : when fear, while the war lasts, makes 
them concur for their common safety. And Zealand, upon 
the least security, bath ever been envious at the predominancy 
of Holland and Utrecht; ready to mutiny for religion: and 
besides, it is a doubt, whether the saine care and sincerity 
would continue if they were at their Consistence, as appears 
3"et, while they are but in Rising. 
The Revenue of this State ariseth chiefly from the Earl oï 
HOLLAND'S domains; and confiscated church livings; the 
rising and falling of money, which they use with much 
advantage; their fishing upon out coasts, and those of 
Norway; contributions out of the enemy's country, taxes 
upon ail things at home, and impositions [im]ort duties] upon 
all merchandise from abroad. 
Their Expenses upon their Ambassadors, their shipping, 
their ditches, their rampiers [dykes] and munition; and 
commonly they have in pay, by sea and land, 60,000 men. 



.302 TIIREE DUTCII SIIIPS TO ONE ENGLISII ! [S:r'r. Ov«rurr 

For the strength. The nature of the country makes them 
able fo defend themselves long by land. Neither could 
anything have endangered them so much as the last great 
frost [of r6o8, ste Vol. I. p. 77, had hot the Treaty been then 
on foot : because the enemy, being then master of the field ; 
that rendered their ditches, marshes, and rivers as firm ground. 
There belongs to that State, 2o,ooo vessels of all sorts. So 
that if the Spanîard were entirely beaten out of those parts ; 
the Kings of France and England would take as much pains 
to suppress, as ever they did to raise them. For being our 
enemies, they are [wottld bc] able to give us the law at sea ; 
.and eat us out of ail trade, much more the French : having 
at this time three ships for our one, though none so good as 
• our best. 
Now that whereupon the most part of their Revenue 
-depends is their traffic, in vhich mystery of State they are, at 
this day, the xvisest. For ail the commodities that this part 
-of the world xvants, and the Indies have (as spice, silk, jewels, 
gold), they are become the conveyers of them for the rest of 
'Christendom, except ingi us: as the Venetians were of old. 
And ail those commodities that those Northern countries 
abound with, and these Southern countries stand in need of: 
they likewise convey thither ; which was the ancient trade of 
the Easterlings !Baltic citics]. And this they do, having little 
to export of their own, by buying of their neighbour-countries 
the former ; and selling them again xvhat thev bring back, at 
their oxvn prices : and so consequently, lire upon the idleness 
• of others. And to this purpose, their situation serres fitly. 
For the rivers of the Rhine, the Maas, and [the] Scheldt 
.all end in their dominions; and the Baltic sea lies hot far 
from them: all which afford them whatever the great con- 
-tinent of Germany, Russia, and Poland yields. 
Then they, again, lying between Germany and the sea, do 
furnish it back, with ail commodities foreign. 
To remember some pieces of their discipline, as patterns 
• of the rest. The Watches at night are never ail of one 
nation [race], so that they can hardly concur to give up any 
• one town. The Commissaries are noxvhere so strict upon 
lusters, and where he finds a company thither, he reduceth 
-.them : so that, xvhen an army marcheth, the List and the Poli 
are never far disagreeing. The army is ever well clothed, 



S, T. O,,,..-! TIE 5IART CITIES OF t-IOLLAND. 303 
x6o9._1 

well armed; and had never yet occasion to mutiny for 
pay or victuals. The soldiers commit nowhere fewer in- 
solences uvon the burghers, fev robberies upon the country ; 
nor the Of:ficers fewer deceits upon the soldiers. And lastly, 
they provide well that their General shall have small means 
-to invade their liberties. For first, their Army is composed of ' 
many nations, which have their several Commanders; and the 
.commands are disposed by the States themselves, not by the 
General. And secondly, he bath never an implicit commission 
left to discrction: but, by reason their country bath no great 
bounds, receives daily commands what to do. 
Their territory contains six entire Provinces; Holland, 
Zealand, Utrecht, Groningen, Overyssel, and Friesland, 
besides three parts of Guelderland, and certain towns in 
Brabant and Flanders : the ground of which is, for the most 
part, fruitful; the towns nowhere are so cqually beautiful, 
strong, and rich : which equality grows by reason that they 
appropriate some one staple commodity to every town of 
note; only Amsterdam not only passeth them ail, but even 
Seville, Lisbon, or any other Mart Town in Christendom. And 
to if, is appropriated the trade of the East Indies, where they 
maintain commonly forty ships ; besides çvhich, there go, twice 
a year, from it and the adjoining towns, a great fleet to the 
Baltic sea. Upon the fall of Antwerp, that [tovn of Amsterdam] 
rose, rather than Middleburgh ; though it [that] stands at the 
saine river's mouth, and is the second Mart Town ; to which 
is appropriated our English cloth. 
Concerning the people. They are neither much devout, nor 
much wicked ; given all to drink, and, eminently, to no other 
vice; hard in bargaining, but just; surly, and respectless, as in 
all democracies ; thirsty 27 lhrift.y], industrious, and cleanly ; dis- 
heartened upon the least ill-success, and insolent upon good ; 
inventive in manufactures ; cunning in traffic. And generally, 
for marrer of action, that natural slowness of theirs suits 
better (by reason of the advisedness and perseverance it 
brings with it) than the rashness and changeableness of the 
French and Florentine wits. And the equality of spirits 
which is among them and the Swiss, renders them so fit for a 
Democracy ; which kind of Government, nations, of more un- 
stable wits, being once corne to a Consistent Greatness, have 
seldom long endured. 



304 

Observatiolzs ŒEEolz the State of 
_/]rchc[zLke's Coutr),, 1609. 

t]ze 

By Sir THo!as OVERBURYo 

S soor as I entered the 
Archdukels 
country, which be,,ins after Lillo ; 
presenly, I beheld [the] works of a Pro- 
vince, and those of a Province distressed 
with war. The people heartless; and 
rather repining against their Governors 
than revengeful against their enemies. 
The bravery of that gentry vhich vas 
left, and the industry of the merchant, quite decayed. The 
husbandman labouring only to lire, without desire to be 
rich fo another's use. The towns (vhatsoever concerned 
not the strength of them) ruinous.. And, to conclude, the 
people here/4rowing poor vith less taxes, than they flourish 
with on the States' side. 
This war hath kept the King of Spain busy ever since it 
began, which [is] some thirty-eight years ago: and, spending 
all the money that the Indies, and all the men thatSpain and 
Italy could afford, hath withdrawn him from .persevering in 
any other enterprise. Neither could he gwe over this, 
without foregoing the means to undertake anvthin hereafter 
upon France or England ; and, consequently,'the Hope of the 
Western Monarchy. For without that handle [i.c., that hope] 



SUT. O,«rt,ry.'l TnE HOPE OF THE WESTERN MONARCnV. 305 
x6o.A 

the mines of Peru had done little hurt in these parts, in com- 
parison of xvhat they have. The cause of the expensefulness 
of it, is the remoteness of those Provinces from Spain ; by 
reason of which every soldier of Spain or Italy, belote he can 
arrive there, costs the King a IOO crowns [=£3 ° then-- 
£135 now], and not above one in ten that arrive, proves good. 
Besides, by reason of the distance, a great part of the money 
is drunk up betwixt the Officers that convey it, and pay it. 
The cause of the continuance of it, is not only the strength 
of the enemy; but partly, by reason that the Commanders 
themselves are content [that] the war should last, so to main- 
tain and render themselves necessary; and partly, because 
the people of those Countries are hot so eager to have the other 
reduced, as willing fo be in the like state themselves. 
The usual revenue of those Provinces which the Archduke 
bath, amounts to 1,2oo,ooo crowns [=, af 6s. the Crown, 
£360,000 then=about £1,6oo,ooo now] a year. Besides which, 
there corne from Spain every month, to maintain the war, 
I5o,ooo crowns [ = £45,000 a month, or £540,o0o a year, then ; 
=£2,43o,ooo anmmlly now]. It was, at the first, 3o0,000 
crowns a month [or, in present annual value, about £5,000,000] ; 
but it fell by fifties [i.e., 50,000] to this, at the time when the 
Treaty began. Flanders pays more towards the war, than 
ail the rest; as Holland doth, with the States. There is no 
Spaniard of [belonging fo] the Council of State, nor Governor 
of any Province : but of the Council of War, which is only 
active ; there [in which] they only are, and bave in their hands 
ail the strong towns and castles of those Provinces, of which 
the Governors bave but only the title. 
The nations of which their army consists are chiefly 
Spaniards and Italians, emulous one of another there ; as on 
the other side, [are] the French and English: and of the 
country, chiefly Burgundians and Walloons. The Pope's 
Letters, and SPtIOLA'S inclination keep the Italians there; 
almost in equality of command with the Spaniard himself. 
The Governors for the King of Spain there, successively, 
have been the Duke of ALV, Don Louts E IEQUtESCENS, 
Don JoHt of Austria, the Prince of PARM, the Archduke 
EARIEST, the Cardinal AIREW of Austria, and the Cardinal 
ALBERT till he married the Infanta. 
Where the dominion of the Archduke and the States 



306 STRENGTH AND BEAUT¥ OF ANTWERP. 

part, there also changeth the nature-of the country ; that is, 
about Antwerp. For ail belo_w, being fiat, and betwixt meadow 
and marsh ; thence, it begins to fise and become champion 
[qben country] : and consequently, the people are more quick 
and spiritful, as the Brabanter, Fleming, and Walloon. 
The most remarkable place on that side is Antwerp, which 
rose upon the fall of Bruges ; equally strong and beautiful; 
remaining yet so upon the strength of its former greatness : 
twice spoiled by the Spaniards, and the like attempted by the 
French. The Citadel xvas built there by the Duke of ALV, 
but renewed by the Prince of PAaM, after his eighteen 
months' besieging it ; the town accepting a castle, rather than 
a garrison to mingle among them. There are yet in the 
town, of citizens 3o,ooo fighting men, 6oo of which keep 
watch nightly ; but they [are] allowed neither cannon upon 
he rampier [ramparts], nor magazines of powder. In the 
Castle are 2o0 pieces of ordnance, and commonly 7o0 or 800 
soldiers. 
Flanders is the best of the Seventeen Provinces, but the 
havens thereof are naught [worthless]. 



307 

Observations on t]ae State of France» 1609» 
under I-tE eV R r II r. 

By Sir THOMAS OVERBURYo 

AVlNG seen the form of a Commonwealth, 
and a Province, with the different effects 
of wars in them; I entered France, 
flourishing with peace ; and of Monarchies, 
the most absolute. ]3ecause the King there, 
not only makes peace and war, call's 
and dissolves Parliaments, pard0neth, 

naturaliseth, ennobleth, names the value 
of money, [im]presseth to the war; but even makes las, and 
imposes taxes at his pleasure. And ail this he doth alone. 
For, as for that form that his Edicts must be authorised by 
the next Court of Parliament, that is, the next Court of 
Sovereign Justice: first, the Presidents thereof are to be 
chosen by him, and to be put out by him; and secondly, 
when they concur not with the King, he passeth anything 
without them, as he did the last Edict [? of Nantes] for the 
Protestants. And for the Assembly of the Three Estates, it 
is grown now almost as extraordinary as a General Counci| 
[of the Church] ; with the loss of which, their liberty fell : and 
when occasion urgeth, it is possible for the King to procure 
that all those that shall be sent thither, shall be his instru- 



308 TF. FRENC KNG'S EDCTS ARE LAWS. 

ments. For the Duke of GUISE effected as much, at the 
Assembly of Blois. 
The occasion that first procured the King that supremacy, 
that his Edicts should be Laxvs, was the last invasion of the 
English. For, at that time, they possessing two parts of 
France, the Three Estates could not assemble: whereupon 
they did then grant that power unto CHARLES VII. during 
the war. And that which ruade it easy, for Louis XI. and 
his successors to continue the saine, the occasion ceasing; 
was that the Clergy and the Gentry did not run the saine 
fortune with the People there, as in England. For most of 
the taxes falling only upon the people ; the Clergy and Gentry, 
being foreborne [exemt, t], were easily induced to leave them 
to the King's mercy. But the King having got strength upon 
[subverted! the peasants, hath been since the bolder to invade 
part of both their [the Clcrgy's and Gentry's] liberties. 
For the succession of this monarchy. It bath subsisted, 
without intermission, these 1,2oo years, under three Races of 
Kings. No nation bath, heretofore, donc greater things 
abroad, in Palestine and Egypt, besides all parts of Europe; 
but, for these last four hundred years, they have only made 
sallies into Italy, and [have] often suffered at home. Three 
hundred years the English afflicted them, making tvo firm 
invasions upon them, and taking their King prisoner: the 
second greatness of Christendom (next [toi the Emperor) 
being then in competition betwixt us and them. And to 
secure themselves against us, rather than the House of Austria, 
as it then stood ; they chose to marry the heir of Brittany 
before that of Burgundy. And for this last hundred years, the 
Spaniard undertaking [attacking] them, hath eaten them out 
of all but France, and endangered that too ! 
But for this present, France had never, as France, a more 
entire greatness ; though it hath often been ficher. Forsince 
the war ; the King has only [si»tly] got aforehand, the country 
is but yet in recovering; the war having lasted, by spaces, 
thirty two years ; and so generally, that [as there was] no man 
but had an enemy vithin three mlles, so the country became 
frontier ail over. Now that which hath made them, at this 
rime, so largely great at home, is their adopting into them- 
selves the lesser adjoining nations, without destruction or 
leaving any mark of strangeness upon them : as the Bretons, 



SirT. OÇ*,,,ry.'l,._l TI1E CLERGY IIOLD RD OF ALL FRANCE. 309 

Gascons, Provençals, and others which are hot French. 
Towards which unions, their nature, which is easy and 
harborous [receptive] to strangers; hath donc more than an)- 
laws could have effected but with long time. 
The King, as I said, enjoying what Lows XI. did gain, hath 
the entire Sovereignty in himself ; because he can make the 
Parliament do what he pleases, or else do what he pleases 
without them. 

For the other Three Estates. The Church is there very 
rich, being estimated to enjoy the third part of the revenue 
of France, but otherwise is nothing so potent as elsewhere ; 
partly because the Inquisition is not admitted in France : but 
principally because the Pope's ordinary power is much 
restrained there, by the liberties xvhich the French Church 
claimeth; which liberties do not so much enfranchise the 
Church itself, as confer the authority the Pope loseth upon the 
King, as Firstfruits and the Disposing of all spiritual prefer- 
ments. And by reason of this neutrality of authority, the 
church men [clery' surfer more there, than either in England, 
where they wholly depend upon the King; or in Spain 
and Italy, where they wholly subsist by the Pope: because 
the Pope is not able totally to support them, and the King 
takes occasion ever to suppress them, as being not entirely his 
subjects ; and to him, they pay, yearly, both the tenth of ail 
their tithe, and of all their temporal land. 
The Gentry are the only entire Body, there, xvhich partici- 
pare with the prerogatives of the Crown. For from it, they 
receive privileges above all other men and a kind of limited 
regality upon their tenants; besides la] real supply to their 
estates by governments and pensions, and freedom from taIIies 
[taxations] upon their own lands, that is, upon their domains 
and whatsoever they manure by their servants: but so 
much as they let to tenants is, presently, taIlieable [taxable] 
which causeth lai proportionate abatement in the rent. 
And in recompense of this, they owe to the King the 
Ban and the Arrière Ban; that is, to serve him and his 
Lieutenant, three months within the land, at their own 
charges. .And as in war, they undergo the greatest part of 
the danger, so then is their power most peremptory above the 
test: whereas in the time of peace, the King is ready to 



3o Tnr GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE-[ siT'°=rb"y'. 

support inferior persons against them, and is glad to see 
them to waste one another by contention at law for fear they 
grow rich ; because he forsees that, as the Nobility, only, tan 
do him service, so they only, misapplied, can do him harm. 
The ancient Gentry of France was most of it consumed in 
the wars of GODFREY DE BOULOGNE, and some in those of 
St. Louis; because on their setting out they pawned ail 
their fiefs to the Church, and few of them were after[wards] 
redeemed: by reason, xvhereof the Church possesseth at 
this day the third part-of the best fiefs in France. And that 
Gentry was afterwards ruade up by advocates, financiers, 
and merchants ennobled, which are now reputed ancient ; and 
are daily eaten out again, and repaired by the saine kind of men. 
For the people. AIl those that have any kind of profession 
or trade, live well ; but for the mere peasants that labour the 
ground, they are only sponges to the King, to the Church, and 
to the Nobility ! having nothing to their own, but to the use of 
them: and are scarce allowed, as beasts, enough to keep 
them able to do service; for besides their rent, they pay 
usually two-thirds to the King. 

The manner of Government in France is mixt between 
Peace and War; being composed as well of military discipline 
as [of] civil justice: because having open frontiers and 
strong neighbours, and therefore obnoxious [liable] to sudden 
invasions ; they cannot, as in England, join ever peace and 
security together. 
For the Military Part, there is ever a Constable and a 
Marshal in being, troops of horse and regiments of foot in 
pay, and in ail Provinces and places of strength, Governors 
and garrisons distributed: ail which are means for the 
preferment of the Gentry. But those, as they give security 
against the enemy, so when there is none, they disturb the 
enjoying of peace, by making the countries taste somewhat 
of a Province. For the Gentry find a difference betwixt the 
Governor's favour and disfavour; and the soldiers often 
commit insolences upon the people. 
The Governments there, are so well disposed by the King, 
as no Governor hath means to give over a Province into the 
enemy's hands ; the cornmands thereof are so scattered.. For 



o,,,,.1 THE iOST UNITED FORCE IN CHRISTENDOM. 311 

the Governor commands the country, and, for the most parti 
the chier town : then there is a Lieutenant to the King, not 
to him! of the saine; and betwixt these two there is ever 
jealousy nourished. Then hath every town and fortress 
particular Governors, which are not subaltern [subordhzate] 
to that of the Province; but hold immediately from the 
Prince: and many times the Town bath one Governor, and 
the Castle inother. 
The advantages of the Governors, besides their pay from the 
King, are presents from the country, dead payes [ ?pay drawn 
for dead men], making their magazines of corn and powder 
more than they need, at the King's price ; and, where they 
stand upon the sea, overseeing of unlawful goods : thus much 
in peace. In war, they are worth as much as they will exact. 
Languedoc is the best, then Brittany: Provence is worth, by 
all these means, to the Duke of GUISE, 2o,ooo crowns 
[=6,ooo or about 25,ooo in present valne] a year; but 
Provence only, he holds without a Lieutenant. 
Concerning the Civil Justice there : it is nowhere more 
corrupt or expenseful. The corruptness of it proceeds, First, 
by reason that the King sells the places of justice at as high 
a rate as can honestly be ruade of them: so that all thriving 
is left to corruption; and the gain the King bath that way, 
tempts him to make a multitude of officers, which are 
another burden to the subject. Secondly, the Presidents 
are hot bound to judge according to the written Law, but 
according to the equity drawn out of it ; which liberty doth 
not so much adroit Conscience, as leave Wit without limits. 
The expensefulness of it ariseth from the multitude of laws, 
and multiplicity of forms of processes ; the which too doth 
beget doubt, and make them long in resolving. And ail this 
chicanery, as they call it, was brought into France from 
Rome, upon the Popes coming to reside at Avignon. 

For the strength of France. It is at this day, the greatest 
united force of Christendom. The particulars in which it 
consists, are these. The shape of the country; which being 
round, no one part is far from succouring another. The 
multitude of good towns and places of strength therein are 
able to stay an army, if not to waste it; as Metz did the 



3 1 2 STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS OF IRANCE. [-Sir T. Overbur. 
L x69- 

Emperor's. The mass of treasure which the King bath in 
the Bastille. The number of arsenals distributed upon the 
frontiers, besides that of Paris: ail which are full of gooà 
arms and artillery. And for ready men, the rive Regiments 
bestoweà up and down in garrisons, together with the 2,ooo 
of the Guard [and] the troops of Ordinary and Light Horse: 
ail ever in pay. ]3esides their Gentry, all bred soldiers; of 
which they think there are, at this present, 5o,ooo fit to bear 
arms. And to command ail these, they have, at this day, 
the best Generals of Christendom; which were the only 
commoàity the Civil Wars did ieave them. 
The weaknesses of it are, First, the want of a sufiïcient 
Infantry, which proceeds from the iii distribution of their 
wealth: for the peasant having no share aliowed him, is 
heartless and feeble; and consequently unserviceable for ail 
military uses. By reason of which, they are, first, forced to 
borrow aid of the Switzers at a great charge ; and secondly, 
to compose their armies, for the most part, of Gentlemen : 
which makes the loss of a battle there almost irrecoverable. 
The Second, is the unproportionable part of -the lanà 
which the Church holds, all which is likewise dead to 
military uses: for as they say there, " The Church will 
lose nothing, nor defend nothing." The Third, is the want 
of a competent number of ships and galleys: by reason of 
which defect, first, the Spaniard overmasters them upon 
the Mediterranean, and the English and Hollander upon the 
Ocean ; and secondly, it renders them poot' in foreign trade ; 
so that, all the great actions of Christendom for these fifty 
years having been bent upon the [I.Vest] Indies, they, only, have 
sat idle. The Fourth, is the weakness of their frontiers : which 
is so much the more dangerous because they are possessed, 
all but the Ocean, by the Spaniard; for Savoy hath been 
always as his own, for all uses against France. The Last, is 
the difference of religion among themselves ; which will ever 
yield matter of civil dissension, and consequently cause the 
weaker to stand in need of foreign succours. 
The ordinary revenue of the King is, as they say now, 
some 14,ooo,ooo of crowns [= £"4,2oo,ooo sterling, or in 
îresent value, about ri8,ooo,ooo] ; which arise principally from 
the domains of the Crown, the gabel of salt, rallies [taxes] 
upon the country, customs upon the merchandise, sale of 



$irT. OvebuY.-I REVENUE AND EXPENSES OF TttE KING. 3 t 3 

offices, the yearly tithe of all that belongs to the Church, the 
rising and falling of money, fines and confiscations cast upon 
him by the law : but as for Wardships, they are only known 
in Normandy. 
His expense is, chiefly, Ambassadors, munition, building, 
fortifying, and maintaining of galleys, (as for ships when he 
needs them, he makes an embarque [embargo]) ; in pay for 
soldiers, wages for officers, pensions at home and abroad ; 
upon the entertaining his House, his State, and his private 
pleasures. And all the first, but the domains, were granted 
in the beginning upon some urgent occasion; and afterwards 
by Kings ruade perpetual, the occasion ceasing: and the 
domains themselves granted because the King should lire 
upon his own without oppressing his subjects. But at 
this day, though the revenue be thus great, and the taxes 
unsupportable; yet do they little more than serve for 
necessary public uses. For the King of Spain's greatness 
and neighbourhood forceth the King there to live con- 
tinually upon his guard: and the treasure which the 
Spaniard receives from his Indies, constrains him to raise 
his revenue thus by taxes, so to be able, in some proportion, 
to bear up against him; for fear, else, he should be bought 
out of ail his confederates and servants. 

For the relation of this State to others. It is first to be 
considered that this part of Christendom is balanced betwixt 
the three Kings of Spain, France, and England ; as the other 
part [is] betwixt the Russian, the Kings of Poland, Sweden, 
and Denmark. For as for Germany, which if it were entirely 
subject to one Monarchy, would be terrible to ail the rest : so 
being divided betwixt so many Princes and those of so equal 
power, it serves only to balance itself, and entertain easy 
war with the Turk; while the Persian withholds him in a 
greater. And every one of those first three hath his particular 
strength, and his particular weakness. Spain hath the 
advantage of both the rest in treasure, but is defective in 
men : his dominions are scattered and the conveyance of his 
treasure from the Indies lies obnoxious to [at the m«rcy ofjj 
the power of any nation that is stronger by sea. France 
abounds with men, lies close together, and hath money 



3 I4 N)XTU-I(AL ALLIES, tz ENEMIES or FRANCE. [slr T. Ove,huEr." 
1 x6o9. 

sufficiently: England, being an iland, is hard to be invaded, 
abounds with men, but wants money to employ them. For 
their particular [several] weakness, Spain is to be kept busy in 
the Low Countries, France to be affticted with the Protestants, 
and England, in Ireland. England is not able tosubsist against 
any [either] of the other [two] hand in hand ; but joined with 
the Low Countries it can give law to both by sea: joined 
with either of them two, it is able to oppress the third, as 
HENRY VIII. did. 
Now the only entire body in Christendom that makes head 
against the Spanish Monarchy is France : and therefore they 
say in France, that, "The day of the ruin of France is the eve 
of the ruin of England." And thereupon England hath ever, 
since the Spanish greatness, inclined rather to maintain 
France, rather than to ruin it : as when King FRANCIS [I.] 
was taken prisoner, the King of England lent money towards 
the payment of his ransom ; and the late Queen [ELIZABETH], 
when the Leaguers, after the Duke of GUISE's death, had a 
design to Cantonize France, though offered a part ofthat country, 
would hot consent. So then, this reason of State, of mutual 
preservation, conjoining them ; England may be accounted a 
sure confederate of France ; and Holland, by reason it partly 
subsists by it ; the Protestant Princes of Germany, because 
they have countenance from it, against the house of Austria ; 
the Protestant Switzers, for religion and money; and the 
Venetians, for protection against the Spaniard in Italy. So 
that all their [the French's] friends are either Protestants or 
inclining thereto; and whosoever is extremely Catholic is 
their enemy, and factor for the Spanish Monarchy: as the 
Pope and Cardinals, for the most part; and totally, the 
Jesuits, the Catholic Princes of Germany, and the Catholics 
of England and Ireland. For the Jesuits, which are the 
Ecclesiastical Strength of Christendom, France--notwith- 
standing the many late obligations--hath cause to despair of 
them. For they intending as " one Pope, so one King" to 
suppress the Protestants; and for the better support of 
Christendom against the Turks : and seeing Spain the likelier 
to bring this to pass, they follow the nearer probability of 
effecting their end. 
No addition could make France so dangerous to us, as that 
of our Low Countries; for so it were worse, than if the 



Sir T. Overbury- 
.6oo:] STRENGTH OF THE FRENClt PROTESTANTS. 3 1 5 

Spaniard himself had them entirely. As for their hopes of 
regaining Italy ; it concerns the Spanîard immediately, rather 
than us. 
Concerning the state of the Protestants in France. During 
peace, they are protected by their Edict [of Nantes]. For 
their two Agents at Court defend the general from wrong; 
and their chambres impartis every particular person. And if 
troubles should arise, some scattered particulars might be in 
danger; but the main body is safe. Safe to defend themselves, 
though all France join against them ! and if it break out into 
factions, the safest; because they are both ready and united. 
The particulars of their strength are, First, their Towns 
of Surety, two of which command the river of the Loire. 
Secondly, their situation. The greatest part of them lying 
near together, as Poitou, Saintonge, High [Upper] Gascony, 
Languedoc, and Dauphiny : near the sea, so consequently fit 
to receive succours from abroad ; and remote from Paris, so 
that the quality of an army is much wasted, before it can 
approach them. The Third, is the sufficiency of their present 
Governors, BOULOGNE and DESDEGUIERS, and other second 
Commanders. And for the Princes of the Blood, whom the 
rest may, in shew, xvithout emulation, obey; when theycome 
once to open action, those which want a party, will quickly 
seek them. The Last, is the aid they are sure of from 
foreign Princes; for whosoever are friends to France in 
general, are more particularly their friends : and besides, the 
Protestant party being grown stronger of late, as the Loxv 
Countries; and more united, as England and Scotland, part 
of that strength reflects upon them. And even the King of 
Spain himself, who is [the] enemy of France in general, would 
rather give them succour than see them utterly exdrpated. 
For as soon as they get an Edict with better conditions, they 
tum head against him that now succoured them; as they did 
against us, at Newhaven [Hdvre in I562]. 
Concerning the porportion of their number, they are not 
above the Seventeenth or Eighteenth part of the People : but 
of the Gentlemen, there are 6,000 of the [Protestant] Religion. 
But since the peace [ ? in 16o2] they have increased in 
People, as principally in Paris, Normandy, and Dauphiny, 
but lost in the Gentry: which loss cometh to pass by reason 
that the King xvhen he finds any Gentleman that will but 



36 HENRY IV. WONDERFUL IN WAR : PEACE. [-Overl,ry. 
_ 6o9. 

hearken, he tempts him with preferment; and those that 
he finds utterly obstinate, he suppresseth. And by such 
means, he hath donc them more harm in peace; than both 
his predecessors in war. For in ail their Assemblies, he 
corrupts some of their Ministers to betray the counsel in 
hand. Of the lO6,OOO crowns [=F31,8oo, or in bresent value 
14o,ooo ] a year wh[ch he pays the Protestants to entertain 
their Ministers and pay their garrisons, he hath gotten the 
bestowing of 16,ooo of them, upon what gentleman of the 
[Protestant] Religion he pleaseth; whom by that means he 
moderates, if hot gains. And besides, they were wont to 
impose upon him their two Deputies, wh[ch are to stay at 
Court: but now he makes them propose six, out of wh[ch he 
chooseth the two, and by that, obligeth those; and yet not- 
withstanding ail this, in some occasions he makes good use 
of them too. For as towards England, he placeth none in 
any place of strength but firm Catholics; so towards Spain 
and Savoy, he often gives charge to Protestants, as to LA 
FORCE in Bearn, DESDEGUIERS and BolssE in Bresse. 

Concerning the King himself. He is a person wonderful, 
both in war and peace. For his acts in \Var, he bath 
manumized [manumitted] France from the Spaniard: and sub- 
dued the League, being the most dangerous plot that hath 
been laid ; weakening it by Arms, but utterly dissolving it by 
Wit. That is, by letting the Duke of GtISE out of prison, and 
capitulating with the heads of it, every one apart ; by which 
means, he hath yet left a continual hatred among them. 
t3ecause every one sought by preventing [anticipating] other, 
to make his conditions the better. So that now there remains 
little connection of it, amongst the Gentry: only there con- 
tinue some dregs still among the Priests, and consequently 
the People; especially when they are angered with the in- 
crease and prosperity of the Protestants. 
For his acts of Peace. He hath enriched France with a 
greater proportion of wool and silk, erected goodly buildings, 
eut passages [canals] betwixt river and river, and is about to 
do the same betwixt sea and sea, redeemed much of the 
mortgaged domains of the Crown, better husbanded the 
money (which was wont to be drunk up, two parts of it, in the 



o,¢rb, ï..] FRAtCV.,-rHv. FAmEST COUNTRY II EUROPE! 317 

officers' hands), got aforehand in treasure, arms, and munition, 
increased the infantry and suppressed the unproportionable 
cavalry, and left nothing undone but the building of a navy. 
And all this may be attributed to himself, only : because in 
a Monarchy, oflïcers are active or careless, as the Prince is 
able to judge and distinguish of their labours; and withal to 
participate of them somewhat, himself. 
Sure it is, that the peace of France, and somewhat that of 
Christendom itself, is secured by this Prince's life. For all 
titles and discontents, ail factions of religion there suppress 
themselves till his death : but what will ensue afterwards ? 
What the rest of the House of BOVRBON will enterprise upon 
the King's children ? What the House of G'6IsE, upon that 
of BovIBon ? What the League ? What the Protestants ? 
What the Kings of Spain and England, if they see a breach 
ruade by civil dissension ? I choose rather to expect, than 
conjecture ! Because GOD hath so many ways to turn aside 
from human foresight ; as He gave us a testimony upon the 
death of our late Queen [ELIZABETH]. 

This country of France, considering the quantity, is the 
fairest and richest of all Christendom ; and contains in it, 
most of the countries adjoining. For Picardy, Normandy, 
and 13rittany resemble England ; Languedoc, Spain; 
Provence, Italy; and the rest is France. 
Besides, ail the rivers that pass through it, end in it. It 
abounds vith corn, wine, and sait, and hath a competency of 
silk; but is defective in wool, leather, metals, and horses: 
and hath but few very good havens, especially on the north 
side. 

Concerning the people. Their children, at first sight, 
seem men, and their men, children; but whoso, in negotia- 
ting, presumes upon appearances shall be deceived! com- 
passionate towards their own nation and country ; loving to 
the Prince, and so they may have liberty in ceremony and 
free access to him, they xvill be better content that he shall 
be absolute in matter of substance: impatient of peace any 
longer than while they are in recovering the ruins of war : 
the presentness [p'esence] of danger inflames their courage, 



3 lS 'a/kx CHARACTER OF THE FRENCH PEOPLE. VSlrr. Over"f. 
.. / x6o9. 

but any" eXpectation makes it languish. For the-most part, 
they are ail Imagination and no Judgement ; but those that 
prove solid, excel ! 
Their Gentlemen are all good outward men, good 
Courtiers, good soldiers, and knowing enough in men and 
business ; but. merely [simply] ignorant in matters of Letters, 
because at fifteen they quit books and begin to live in the 
world: when indeed a mediocrity [medium] betwixt their 
form of education and ours, would do better than either. No 
men stand more punctually [lZowtiliously] upon their honour 
in matter of valour; and, xvhich is strange, in nothing 
else: for otherwise, in their conversation, the custom, and 
shifting, and overspeaking, bath quite overcome the shame 
of it. 

FINIS. 



ABRAHAM 

COWLEYo 

7î.h.e . Chr on ic ]e. 

[Mi$cellanie$. IVork$. t668.1 
ARGAg.ITA-first possest, 
If I ren';embcr weii, my breast ; 
MARGARITA, first of ail! 
But when a while the vanton maid, 
With my restl.ess h.eart had.played, 
M^RTH^ took the flying ball. 

II. 
MARTHA o0n did it resign 
• - To the beauteous CATHARINE : 
]3Cuteous CATHARIN'.E gave place 
(Though loath and angry she, to part 
V¢ith the possession of my heart) 
To ELIZA'S conquering face. 

III. 
ELZ^, till this hour might reign, 
- Had she not evil counsels ta'en. 
Fundamental laws she broke, 
And still new favourites she chose! 
Till up in arms my Passions rose, 
And cast away her yoke. 



320 T/:lE CHRONICLE • [A. Cowle'.t 

IV. 
MAR¢ then, and gentle ANNE 
Both to reign at once began : 
Altemately they swayed, 
And sometimes MAR¥ was the Fait, 
And sometimes ANNE the Crown did wear 
And sometimes both I obeyed. 

Another MAR¥ then arose, 
And did rigorous laws impose. 
A mighty tyrant she ! 
Long, alas, should I have been 
Under that iron sceptred Queen ; 
Had hOt REBECC,., set me free ! 

VI. 
When fair REBECCA set me free, 
'Twas then a golden time with me ! 
But soon those pleasures fled ; 
For the gracious Princess died, 
In her youth and beauty's pride : 
And JVIITH reigned in her stcad ! 

VII. 
One month, three days, and hall an hour, 
JUDTH held the sovereign power. 
Wondrous beautiful her face ; 
]3ut so weak and small her wit, 
That she to govern was unfit : 
And so SUSANNA took her place! 



A. Cov, ley.-] T ,=I E C H R O N I C L E 3 2 I 
t _1 " 

VIII. 
But when ISABELLA came, 
Armed with a resistless flame 
And th' artillery of her eye ; 
\Vhilst she proudly march'd about, 
Greater conquests to find out, 
She beat out SusAN by the bye. 

IX. 
But in her place, I then obeyed 
Black-eyed BEss, her Viceroy-maid : 
To whom ensued a Vacancy. 
Thousand worst passions then possess'd 
The interregnum of my breast. 
Dless me, from such an anarchy! 

Gentle HENRIETTE then, 
And a third MARY next began ; 
Then JOAN, and JANE, and ANDRIA ; 
And then a pretty THOMASINE, 
And then another KATHERINE, 
And then a long Et cetera ! 

XI. 
But should I no,v to you relate 
The strength and riches of their State 
The powder, patches, and the pins l 
The ribbons, jewels, and the rings 
The lace, the paint, and warlike things, 
That make up all their magazines 
E^'a. G,. IV. 



322 THE CHRONICLE. EA" C°ï I«y" 

XII. 
If I should tell their politic arts 
To take, and keep men's hearts ! 
The letters! embassies ! and spies ! 
The frowns ! and smiles ! and flatteric, 1 
The quarrels ! tears ! and perjuries ! 
l'qumberless, nameless mysteries ! 

XIII. 
And ail the little lime twigs laid 
By I[ACHIAVEL, the waiti.ng maid ! 
I, more voluminous should grow, 
(Chiefly if I, like them, should tell, 
Ail change of weathers that befell,) 
Than HOLINGSHED, or STOW ! 

XIV. 
But I will briefer with them be ; 
Since few of them were long with me ! 
A higher and a nobler strain, 
My present Empress does claim ; 
HELEONORA, First o' the name, 
Whom, GOD grant long to reign I 



England's 
WA Y TO 

WIN 

Wealth, and to employ Ships 

and Mariners  

0 R, 

A plain description what great profit it will bring 
inm the Common Wealth of England, by the erecting, 
building, and adventuring of Busses 
to sea, a fishing. 

Vith a true Relation of the inestimable wealth, that is yearly 
taken out of His Majesty's seas by the Hollanders» 
by their great number of Busses» Pinks 
and Line-boats. 

AND ALSO» 

Discourse of the sea coast towns of England, and the most fit 
and commodious places and harbours that we have for 
Busses; and of the small number of our fishermen i 
and also of the true valuation and whole charge 
of building and furnishing to sea, Busses 
and Pinks after the Holland manner. 

By TOBIA$ GENTLEMAN, Fifherman and Mariner. 

L 0 ND 0 N: 
Printed by NArHANtEt, BUTTE, C. 64. 



[This is the tract referred to at l'ol. III. p. 623. It appears from/. 623 
of that Volume, that T. GENTLEMAN was a Yarmouth man.] 



325 

TO THE RIGHT NOBLE 

LEARNED AND TRULY HONOURABLE 

HENRY HOWARD, 
NORTHAMPTON, BARON OF 
HILL, Constable of the Castle 
Lord Warden, Chancellor and 

EARL OF 
MARN- 
of Dorer, 
Admiral 

of the Cinque Ports, Lord Privy Seal, 
Knight of the most noble Order 
of the Garter, and one of His 
Majesty's most honourable 
Privy Council. 

RIG HT HONO URABLE 

 EEING lhat, by Nature, our country challcngeth a gre,ltcr 
interest in us, than our parents, .[rien,ts, or children 
can ; and that we ought for preservatio1» thereof , oppose 
[expose] out lires unto the greatest dangers : it is the 
part of every native to endeavour somcthhtg to the advancemcnt 
avà profit thereof : a-nd hot fo affect if, .[or that we /5ossess in. it ; 
but to love if for itself, as being the common Mother a.nd NouHsher 



/-T. Gent|eman. 
326 THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. L?,SFeb.,6,. 

of us ail. For mine own part, albeit my short fathom can 
compass no such great design as 1 desire : yet from a willh,g 
mind (as he that offered his hands fidl of water fo great 
A tI"AXEtXES), I ara bold to present this Project of ny honest and 
homely labours; beseeching your Lordship, whose virtues bave 
truly ennobIcd you, fo take the saine into your protection ! and 
prefcr if fo the view of out most royal Sovercign, recommcnding 
the good effecting thcreof to his gracious Javour and Jurtherance 
Doubtless your actions and endeavours, having alI been fidl 
virtue and goodness, are hot the least prevailing motives.whereby 
His Majesty hath so endeared you nnto him. In this, then, you 
shall hot think yourself disparaged .t the matter being both honest 
and commendable ; and ift true value, of as grcat substance, as the 
Offer Of SEBASTIAN CABOTA fo King HE¢RY the SEVE¢TI4 for 
the discovoy of the IVest Indies. 

Humbly af your Lordshilb's commandment, 

TOBIAS GENTLEMAN. 



327 

England's lay to 

win I¢Vealtb, and 
and Mariners. 

OBLE BRITONS! Forasmuch as it hath 
pleased the Almighty GOD go make us a 
happy Nation, by blessing and enriching this 
noble Kingdom with the sweet dew of His 
heavenly \Vord t ruly and pi .entifully preached 
amongst us; and also in situating our 
country in a most wholesome climate, and 
stored vith many rich and pleasant trea- 

sures for our benefit, which also yieldeth in abundance ail 
things necessary, so that we do not only excel other nations 
in strength and courage, but also ail other kingdoms far 
remote are by our English Com modities relieved and cherished : 
it seemeth also that the wisdom of our gracious GOD bath 
reserved us, as some preciousgem, unto Himself; in environ- 
ing our country vith the plenteous ocean sea, and dividing 
of us from the whole Continent of the rest of the inferior 
world by our rich and commodious element of water, which 
in due seasons, yieldeth to us in abundance. For although 
our champion [champagne] soil, by the diligence of the 
husbandman, be plentiful unto us; yet doth these watery 
regions and dominions yield yearly great variety of ail kind 
of most wholesome and dainty fishes: so that it may seem 
strange and disputable, and hard to deterrnine, which of His 
Majesty's Dominions, of the Land or Seas, be richer ? Myself 
being the most unworthiest of ail, in that I am no scholar, 
but born a fisherman's son by the seaside, and spending my 
youthful time at sea about fisher [fishhg] affairs, vhereby 
now I am more skilful in nets, lines, and hooks, than in 



328 JOHN KEYMAR'S INQUIRIES IN I6II. [T-G..,,....j=..,6,,. 

rhetoric, logic, or learned books: yet in those few which I 
have read, besides the instinct of Nature, which maketh me 
to know that every one should endeavour himself(the best he 
is able)to be beneficial and profitable to the kingdom and- 
common wealth wherein he is born; which was a forcible 
motive to incite me to think of this present Discourse, the 
penning whereof was thus occasioned. 
It was my fortune, some two years past [i.e., in t6II], tobe 
sent for into the company of one Master JOHN KEYMAR, who 
is a man very well deserving of his country ; and he, knowing 
me to have experience in fisher [fishing] affairs, demanded of 
me the Charge both of t3usses and Line-boats, after the 
Hollanders' fashion: and showed unto me some few notes 
that he had gathered and gotten from other men of my trade, 
which he seemed greatly to esteem of, for that himself was 
altogether unexperimented in such business. And further I 
delivered to him certain principal notes which he seemed 
greatly to esteem; for that, he said, that "He did mind to 
show them unto the right honourable Council." 
Whereupon I entered into the cogitation of xvriting thisTrue 
Relation out of myown experience and knoxvledge, touchingthe 
inestimable sums of money taken yearly for fish and herrings 
out of His Majesty's seas bystrangers. Wherebythey have hOt 
only maintained their wars against the Spaniard, both by land 
and sea, he being one of the great Monarchs of the world ; 
and at length they have hot only wearied him in the wars 
and brought him to good terres and reasonable Composition : 
but also, it is most apparent, notwithstanding the huge charge 
of their wars, so long continued, which would bave ruade 
any other nation poor and beggarly; they, to the contrary, 
are grown exceeding rich and strong in fortified towns and 
beautiful buildings, in plenty of money and gold, in trade 
and traflîc with all other nations, and bave so increased and 
multiplied their shipping and mariners, that all other nations 
and countries in the world do admire [wonder at] lhem. 
Moreover, whereas one haven in one of their towns did, in 
former times, contain their ships and shipping; with infinite 
cost, now they have cut out two havens more to a town: 
and at this present, are all three havens scarce suflîcient with 
room enough to contain their ships and shipping. And by 
reason of their industrious fisher-trade, not one of their 



T. Gentleman.']jan. x6,4./ THE DUTCtI bIUST BUY EVERYTHING. 329 

people is idle, nor none seen fo beg amongst them, except 
they be some of our own English nation. 
And what their chieiest trade is, or the principal Gold 
Mine, is well known to ail merchants that have used those 
parts, and to myself and ail fishermen: namely, that His 
Majesty's Seas are their chiefest, principal, and only rich 
Treasury ; whereby they have so long rime maintained their 
wars, and have so greatly prospered and enriched themselves. 
If that their little country of the United Provinces can do 
this (as is most manifest before our eyes they do), then what 
may we His Majesty's subjects do, if this trade of fishing 
were once erected among us ? We having in our own 
countries [counties], sufficient store of ail necessaries to accom- 
plish the like business. 
For the Hollanders bave nothing growing in their own 
land for that business; but they are compelled to fetch 
ail their wood, tituber, and plank, wherewith they build 
and make ail their ships of, out of divers countries: their 
iron out of other places; their hemp and cordage out of 
the Eastern [Baltic] Countries; the hoops and barrel-boards 
out of Norway and Sprucia [Prussia] ; their bread-corn out of 
Poland and the East Parts; their ruait, barley, and best 
Double Drink from England; and also ail their fish and 
chiefest wealth out of His Majesty's seas. 
The which they do transport unto the foresaid countries ; 
and return for the procedue [ihrocecds] of fish and herrings, the 
forenamed commodities: whereby their ships and mariners 
are set on work, and continually multiplied ; and into their 
countries is plentiful store of money and gold daily brought, 
only [solely] for the sales of fish and herrings. 
And their country being, as it xvere, a small plot of ground 
in comparison of Great Britain; for two of His Majesty's 
counties, Suffolk and Norfolk, do equal, if not exceed, in 
spaciousness, ail their Provinces : and 3,et it is manifest, that 
for shipping and seafaring men, ail England, Scotland, 
France, and Spain, for quantity of shipping and fishermen, 
cannot make so great a number. 
Howsoever this may seem strange unto many that do not 
know it ; yet do I assure myself, that a great number besides 
myself, know I affirm nothing herein but the truth. Where- 
fore seeing the great benefit that this business by the 13usses, 



33 ° ENGLAND NEEDS ONL¥ PITCH AND TAR. l-T'Gentleman" 
_ Jan. 6x4. 

bonadventures, or fisherships; by erecting of this profitable 
and new trade, which will bring plenty unto His Majesty's 
Kingdoms and be for the general good of the Common wealth ; 
in setting of many thousands of poor people on work, which now 
know hOt how to lire; and also for the increasing of ships and 
fishermen, which shall be employed about the taking of fish 
and herrings out of His Majesty's own streams ; and also for 
the employing of ships, and increasing of mariners for the 
strengthening of the Kingdom against ail foreign invasions; 
and for the enriching of Merchants with transportation of 
fish and herrings into other countries; and also for the 
bringing in of gold and money : which now is grown but 
scarce, by reason that the Dutch and Hollanders have so long 
time been suffered to carry away our money and best gold for 
fish and herrings taken out of His Majesty's own streams; 
which His Majesty's own subjects do want and still are likely] 
to do, if that they be hot forbidden for bringing us fish and 
herrings; and this worthy common wealth's business of 
I3usses fostered and furthered by His Majesty's honourable 
Council, and the worshipful and wealthy subjects ; by putting 
to their helping Adventures now at the first, for that those 
that be now the fishermen, of themselves be hot able to begin. 
Those poor boats and sorry nets that our fishermen of 
England now have, are ail their chiefest wealth; but were 
their ability better, they would soon be employing themselves: 
for that it is certain that ail the fishermen of England do 
rejoice now at the very naine and news of building of I3usses, 
with a most joyful applaud, praying to GOD to further it ! 
for vhat great profit and pleasure it will bring they do well 
understand, and I will hereafter declare. 
First, I shall hOt need to prove that it is lawful for us that 
be His Majesty's own subjects, to take with ail diligence 
the blessings that Almighty GOD doth yearly send unto us, 
at their due times and seasons ; and which do offer them- 
selves freely and abundantly to us, in our own seas and 
nigh our own shores. 
Secondly, to prove that it is feasible for us; for what can be 
more plain than that we see daily done before our eyes by 
the Hollanders ! that have nothing that they use, growing in 
their own land, but are constrained to fetch all out of other 
countries: whereas we have ail things that shall be used 



T. Gentleman.']jan. t6x4./ FISHERIES, THE D UTCtt GOLD MINE. 331 

about that business growing at home in our own land ; pitch 
and tar only excepted. 
Thirdly, to prove it will be profitable, no man need to 
doubt; for that we see the Hollanders have long maintained 
their wars : and are nevertheless grown exceeding rich : which 
are things to be admired, insomuch that themselves do call it 
their chic[est trade, and lbrincilbal Gold Mine; whereby many 
fhousands of their peolble o.[ frades and occulbations be set on work, 
u,ell maintained, and do lbrosper. These be the Hollanders' own 
words in.a Dutch Proclamation, and translated into English; 
and the copy of that Proclamation is here annexed unto the 
end of my book [see p. 350]. 
And shall we neglect so great blessings! 0 slothful 
England, and careless countrymen ! look but on these fellows, 
that we call the plump Hollanders! Behold their diligence 
in fishing ! and our own careless neligence ! 
In the midst of the month of May, do the industrious 
Hollanders begin to make ready their Busses and fisher- 
fleets ; and by the first of theirJune [i.e., N.S.] are they yearly 
ready, and seen to sail out of the Maas, the Texel, and the 
Vlie, a thousand Sali together ; for to catch herrings in the 
lqorth seas. 
Six hundred of these fisherships and more, be great Busses 
some six score tons, most of them be a hundred tons, and the 
test three score tons, and fifty tons: the biggest of them 
having four and twenty men; some twenty men, and some 
eighteen, and sixteen men a piece. So that there cannot be 
in this Fleet of People, no less than twenty thousand sailors. 
These having with them bread, butter, and Holland cheese 
for their provision, do daily get their other diet out of His 
Majesty's seas ; besides the lading of this Fleet three times a 
piece commonly before Saint Andrew['s day, October 24] with 
herrings, which being sold by them but at the rate of Ten 
Pounds the Last, amounteth unto much more than the sure 
of one million of pounds [=4,5oo,ooo in lbresent value] 
sterling ; only [solely] by this fleet of Busses yearly, lqo King 
upon the earth did ever see such a fleet of his own subjects 
at any rime ; and yet this Fleet is, there and then, yearly to 
be seen. A most worthy sight it were, if they were my own 
countrymen ; yet have I taken pleasure in being amongst them, 
to behold the neatness of their ships and fishermen, how 



l'T. Gentleman. 
332 TItE GREAT FLEET OF BUSSES. 

every man knoweth his own place, and all labouring merrily 
together : whereby the poorest sort of themselves, their wives 
and children, be well maintained; and no want seen amongst 
them. 
And thus North-\Vest-and-by-North hence along they steer, 
then being the very heart of summer and the very yolk of ail 
the year, sailing until they do corne unto the Isle of Shet- 
Sh«tlan«isth« land, which is His Majesty's dominions. And 
greatest lsle of 
l,h«Or«,«es. with this gallant fleet of Busses, there bave been 
and lieth in the seen twenty, thirty, and forty ships of war to waft 
height of 6o ° 
. L.,t. [convoy] and guard them from being pillaged and 
taken by their enemies and Dunkirkers: but now the wars 
be ended, they do save that great charge, for they have not 
now about four or six to look unto them, for [from . being 
spoiled by foyers and pirates. 
Now if that it happen that they have so good a wind as to be 
at Shetland before the t4th dayof their June [i.e.,N.S.] as most 
commonly they bave, then do they all put into Shetland, nigh 
Swinborough [Sumburgh] Head ; into a sound called Bracies 
[Bressa] Sound, and there they frolic it on land, until that 
they have sucked out ail the marrow of the ruait and good 
Scotch ale, which is the best liquor that the island doth 
afford: but the x4th day of June being once corne, then away 
ail of them go, for that is the first day, by their own law, 
before which rime they must hot iay a net; for until then the 
herrings be not in season, nor fit to be taken to be salted, 
From this place, being nigh two hundred leagues from 
Yarmouth, do they now first begin to fish, and they do never 
leave the shoals of herrings, but corne along amongst them, 
following the herrings as they do come, rive hundred miles in 
lenh [along], and lading their ships twice or thrice before 
they corne to Yarmouth, with the principal and best herrings, 
and sending them away by the merchant ships that cometh 
unto them, that bringeth them victuals, barrels, and more salt, 
and nets if that they do need any, the which ships that buyeth 
their herrings they do call Herring Yagers [now spelt Jagers] : 
and these Yagers carry them, and sell them in the East 
[Baltic] Countries, some to Revel and to Riga, and some so far 
as Narva and Russia, Stockholm in Sweden, Quinsborouh 
[? Eomgsberg], Dantsic, and Elving [Elbing], and ail Poland, 
Sprucia, and Pomerland, Letto [Lithuania], I3urnt-Hollume, 



T. Genfleman.']ja.. x6x4._l TttE WORK OF THE HERRING JAGERS. 333 

.ct.ttin, Lubeck, and Jutland and Denmark. Returning hemp, 
flax, cordage, cables, and iron ; corn, soap ashes, wax, wains- 
cor, clapholt [? clap-boards], pitch, tar, toasts, and spruce 
deals, hoops and barrel-boards [staves]; and plenty of silver 
and gold : only [solely] for their procedue [proceeds] of herrings. 
Now besides this great Fleet of the Busses, the HolIanders 
have a huge number more of smaller burden, only for to take 
herrings also; and these be of the burden from fifty tons unto 
thirty tons, and twenty tons. The greatest of them have 
twelve mena piece, and the smalIest eight and nine mena 
piece; and these are vessels of divers fashions and hot like 
unto the Busses, yet go they only for herrings in the season, 
and they be called, sorne of thern, Sword-Pinks, Flat-Bottoms, 
Holland-Toads, Crab-Skuits, and Yevers : and all these, or the 
most part do go to Shetland ; but these have no Yagers to 
corne unto them ; but they go themselves home when they be 
laden, or else unto the best market. There have been seen 
and numbered of Busses and these, in braces [rigged], sound, 
and going out to sea; and at sea in sight atone rime, two 
thousand Sail, besides them that were at sea without [out of] 
sight, which could hot be numbered. 
Itis Bartholomexvtide lA ugust 24] yearly, before that they 
be corne frorn Shetland with the herrings so high as [down toi 
Yarmouth: and all those herrings that they do catch in the 
Yarmouth seas from Bartholornewtide until Saint Andrexv['s 
day, October 24], the worst that be, the roope-sick herrings that 
will hot serve to make barrelled herrings by their own law, 
they must hot bring home into Holland ; wherefore they do 
sell them for ready money or gold unto the Yarmouth men, 
that be no fishermen, but merchants and ingrossers of great 
quantities of herrings, if that, by any means, they can get thern. 
So that the Hollanders be very welcome guests unto the 
Yarmouthian [!] herring-buyers, and the HoIlanders do call 
them their "hosts," and they do yearly carry away frorn 
Yarmouth rnany a thousand pounds, as if is well known. 
But these Hollanders, with the ladings of the best, which 
they rnake their best brand herrings to serve for Lenten store, 
they senti sorne for Bordeaux, some for Rochelle, Nantes, 
Morlaix; and Saint Malo and Caen in Normandy; Rouen, 
Paris, Arniens, and all Picardy and Calais: and they do 
return from these places wines, salt, feathers, rosin, woad» 



334 Eoiocs PRICES IN GOLD, FOR FIStt. [T. Gemleman. 

Normandy canvas, and Dowlais cloth, and money and French 
crowns. But out of all the Archduke's countries they return 
nothing from thence but ready money, in my own knowledge; 
and their ready payment was all double Jacobuses, English 
twenty-[five] shilling pieces. I have seen more there, in one 
day, than ever I did in London at any rime. 
For at Ostend, Newport, and Dunkirk, where and when 
the Holland Pinks cometh in, there daily the Merchants, 
that be but women (but not such women as the fishwives of 
]3illingsgate; for these Netherland women do lade away 
many waggons with fresh fish daily, some for t3ruges, and 
some for ]3russels, Yperen, Dixmuiden, and Rissels [Lille], 
and at Sas by Ghent), I have seen these Women-Merchants 
have their aprons full of nothing but English Jacobuses, to 
make all their payment of; and such heaps and budgetfuls 
in the counting-houses of the Fish t3rokers, which ruade me 
much to wonder how they should corne by them. And 
he. also I know that capons are hot so dearly sold 
.llhaa«u by the poulterers in Gratious [Gracechurch] Street 
sold there for 
twoshillings in London, as fresh fish is sold by the Ho1- 
[and] sipence: 
a,r, landers in all those Roman Catholic and Papistical 
for aJacobus, countries. 

And whereas I have ruade but a true relation of their Fleets 
of Busses, and only the herring fishermen that be on His 
Majesty's seas from June until November: I will here set 
down the fishermen that, all the year long, in the seasons, do 
fish for Cod and Ling continually, going and returning laden 
with barrelled fish. 
And these be Pinks and %Vell-boats of the burden of forty 
tons, and the smallest thirty tons. These have some twelve 
men a piece, one with another. There is of this sort of fisher- 
boats, beginning at Flushing, Camefere, Surwick Sea, the 
Maas, the Texel, and the Vlie, and the other sandy islands, 
about rive hundred or six hundred Sali which, ail the year 
long, are fishing for Cod ; whereof they do make their barrelled 
fish, which they do transport in the summer into the East 
parts, but in winter all France is served by them and all the 
Archduke's countries before spoken of : both of barrelled fish 
and fresh fish» which they of purpose do keep alive in their 



T. Gentleman.- I 
Jan. I614._1 DE.SCRIPTION OF THE ENGLISH FISHERMEN. 335 

boats in wells. And to us here in England, for love of our 
strong beer, they bring us barrelled fish in winter ; and carry 
away our money and gold every day in great quantities. 
Besides all these Pinks and Well-boats, the Hollanders 
have continually, in the season, another fleet of fishermen, 
at the north-east head of Shetland, which be of another 
quality: and there are more than two hundred of these, and 
these be called Fly-boats. These do ride at anchor ail the 
season at Shetland, in the fishing grounds, and they have 
small boats vithin them, which be like unto Cobles, the 
which they do put out to lay and haul their lines, whereby 
they do take great store of Ling: the which they do not 
barrel, but split them and sait them in the ship's bulk [hold] ; 
and these they sell commonly for four and rive pounds the 
hundred. These go by the naine of Holland Lings: but 
they are taken out of His Majesty's seas, and were Shetland 
Lings before they took them there; and for these Lings they 
do carry away abundance of England's best money daily. 

Ow HAVING declared accordin unto truth, the 
numbers of their fi,shermen in Holland for herrings 
upon His Majesty s seas; and also of their Pinks 
]]J and Well-boats; and their courses for taking, 
'' venting, and selling of their barrelled fish and 
fresh fish; and also of their Fly-boats at the north-east 
head of Shetland, for Shetland Lings: I think it now best, 
truly to show the true number of our English fishermen, and 
how they do employ themselves all the year long; first 
beginning at Colchester, nigh the mouth of the Thames, and 
so proceeding northward. 
I can scarce afford these men of that Water the name of 
fishermen ; for that their chiefest trade is dredging for oysters : 
yet have they, in the summer, some eight or ten boats in the 
North seas for Cod; which if that they happen to spend ail 
their sait, and to speed well, they may get some twenty pounds 
in a summer clear. 
But here, by the way, I will make known a great abuse 
that is offered to the common wealth, and especially to ail 
the herring fishermen of England, only by those men of 
Colchester Water. For these men, from Saint Andrew 



336 COLCHESTER FISHERS O' BLEAKS. I-T.Gentlernan. 
L Jan. t6 4. 

[October 24] until Candlemas [February 2], and sometimes 
longer, do set forth Stale-boats, amongst the sands in the 
Thames' mouth, for to take sprats, with great stale-nets, 
with a great poke [bag]; and they standing in the Swinne 
or the King's Channel on the back of the Gunfleet, they do 
there take instead of sprats, infinite thousands of young 
herrings, smaller than sprats and hot good to be eaten, for 
one sprat is better wortb than twenty of those Bleakes or 
young herrings. But because they do fill the bushel at 
Billingsgate, where they do sell them for sprats ; the wbich, 
if that they were let [a]live, would all be, at Midsummer, a 
fat Summer full Herr;ng. And a peck is sometimes there 
sold for twopence ; which number of herrings at Midsummer 
would make a barrel of summer herrings, worth twenty or 
thirty shillings. 
If that they could take sprats it were good, for they be 
good victuals for the City; but for every cartload or bushel 
of sprats, they take a hundred cartloads or bushels of these 
young herrings ; which be the very spawn of the shoals of the 
herrings that cometh from Shetland every summer: and 
whereas they corne into Yarmouth seas yearly about Saint 
Luke's [day, September 21] and (sometimes before, if that it 
do blow a hard easterly wind) do always at that season 
become roope-sick and do spavn and become shotten [emtty_ 
betwixt Wintertonness and Orfordness. And those fry of that 
spawn, those young little creatures, by the wisdom of the 
great Creator, seeketh into the shore and shallow places, 
there to be nourished, and also into the Thames' mouth into 
the sweetest waters ; for that the water nigh the shore and 
in the Thames' mouth is not so briny sait as it is farther off 
in the deep water. Where these t31eaks yearly seeking to be 
nourished, they be always at that season taken and destroyed. 
But if that these men will needs use their Stale-boats and 
nets, let them go where the good sprats be. They must then 
stand at Orfordness and in Dunwich bay, where there be 
excellent sprats: and for the good of ail the herring fishermen 
of E.ngland, I wish that they might be prohibited to sell that 
which is hot wholesome to be eaten ; which is as much as to 
sell hemlock for parsnips. 
The next to Colchester, is Harwich Water. A royal harbour 
and a proper town, fit for the use of t3usses (no place in ail 



T. 6en,leman.-1 FISHERMEN OF HARWICH AND IPSWICH. 337 
Jan. x614-3 

Holland comparable to it, for there is both land and strand 
and dry beach enough for fourhundred Sail); but the chiefest 
trade of the inhabitants of this place is with Caravels for 
Newcastle coals: but they have three or four ships yearly 
that they do send to Iceland for Cod and Ling from Match 
until September; and some years they get, and some years 
they lose. But if that they had but once the trade of Busses, 
this would soon be a fine place : but those Caravels and Ships 
which they now have, be all their chiefest wealth. 
Six toiles up Harwich water stands Ipswich ; which is a gal- 
lant tovn and rich. This Town is such a place for the Busses, 
as in all England and Holland I know no place so convenient. 
First, it is the best place in all England for the building of 
Busses; both for the plenty of timber and plank, and 
excellent workmen for making of ships. There are more 
there, than there are in six of the best towns in ail England. 
Secondly, it is a principal place for good housewives for 
spinning of yarn, for the making of pouldavice [canvas] ; for 
there is the best that is made. Which town with the use 
of the making of twine, will soon be the best place of all 
England for to provide nets for the Busses. It is also a most 
convenient place for the wintering of the Busses, for that ail 
the shores of that river are altogether ooze and sort ground, 
fit for them to lie on in winter. 
Also the Ipswich men be the chiefest MerchantAdventurers 
of all England, for ail the East Lands [Baltic ThisTownis 
Countries], for the Suffolk cloths: and they have 
their factors lying, ail the year long, in all those p««om,k, 
a Staple Town 
places where the Hollanders do vent their herrings, 
England, ior 
and where the best price and sale is continually. 
And although that yet there be no fishermen, yet 
have they store of seafaring men, and for Masters 
Dantsic and 
for the Busses, they may have enough from Yar- 
mouth and So[uth]w[o]ld and the sea-coast towns [villages] 
down their river. From Nacton and Chimton, Holbroke, 
Shotley, and Cowlness they may get men that xvill soon be 
good fishermen with but little use. For understand thus 
much [ that there is a kind of emulation in Holland betxveen 
the fishermen that go to sea in Pinks and Line-boats, winter 
and summer; and those fishermen that go in the Busses. 
For they in the Pinks make a scorn of them in the Busses, 
ENG. GAR. IV. 



338 FISHERMEN OF ORFORD, ALDBOROUGH, ]-T. Genfleman. 
L Jan. x64. 

and do call them koe-milkens or "cow-milkers" : for indeed the 
most part of them be men of occupations [handicraftsmen] in 
winter, or else countrymen ; and do milk the cows themselves 
and make ail the Holland cheese, when they be at home. 
This place is also most convenient for the erecting of salt- 
pans, for the making of "Sait upon Sait." For that the 
harbour is so good that, at ail rimes, ships may corne unto 
them with sait from Mayo, or Spanish sait, to make brine or 
pickle ; and also the Caravels from Newcastle with coals for 
the boiling of it at the cheapest rates, at any rime may come 
thither. 
To the north-east of "this place, three or four leagues, is 
Orford Haven; and in the towns of Orford and Aldborough 
especially be many good fishermen. And there are belonging 
to those towns some forty or fifty North Sea boats, that 
yearly go to sea, having seven men a piece ; and ten or twelve 
Iceland barks, which sometimes get something, and some- 
rimes little or nothing. If that these men's wealth were in 
Busse8 and nets, and had but once the trade, they would put 
down the Hollander ! for they be great plyers of any voyage 
that they do undertake. 
About three leagues to the northward is So[uth]w [o] ld Haven, 
Dun,ichin and in the towns of So[uth]w[o]ld, Dunwich, and 
ancient times 
hatn been trie Walderswick be a verygood breed of fishermen ; and 
seat of the there are belonging unto those three towns,of North 
Kings of the 
EutAng=, Sea boats some twenty sail; and of Iceland barks 
but [is] now 
t r,i,e«, some fifty sail, which yearly they send for Cod and 
Ling to Iceland. 

My father lived 
in this town 
until he was ç8 
years of age, 
and gave these 
Composition 
Ling seventy 
years unto four 
Princes, viz., 
King EDWARD, 
Queen 
LIZABETH 
and until the 
»ixth year 
[6o9] of the 
eign of nur 
most gracious 
Sovereign. 
Which cometh 
to much more 

This town of So[uth]w[o]ld, of a sea town, is the 
most beneficial unto His Majesty, of all the towns 
in England; by reason ail their trade is unto 
Iceland for Ling, and His Majesty's Serjeant 
Caterer hath yearly gratis out of every ship and 
bark, one hundred of the choicest and fairest Lings, 
which be worth more than ten pound the hundred ; 
and they call them "Composition Fish." But these 
men of this place are greatly hindered, and in a 
manner undone, by reason their haven is so bad, 
and in a manner often stopped up with beach and 
shingle stone that the wind and tide and the sea do 
beat thither, so that many rime, in the season, 



T.C,«tleman. 7 SOUTItWOLD, LOWESTOFT, AND YARMOUTH. 339 
Jan. IfiI4. A 

when they be ready to go to sea- they cannot get than one 
» thousand 
out when time is to go to sea; neither can they 
man of that 
get in when they return from sea, but oftentimes 
do cast away their goods and themselves. This haven if that 
it had but a south pier built of tituber, would be a far better 
haven than Yarmouth haven, with one quarter of the cost 
that hath been bestoved on Yarmouth haven. They be now 
suitors unto His Majesty : GOD grant that they may speed 
For it is pitiful, the trouble and damage that all the men of 
these three towns do daily sustain by their naughty [inadc- 
quate] harbour. 
To the northward of So[uth]w[o]Id Haven three leagues, are 
Kirkley and Layestof [Lowestofi], decayed towns. They have 
six or seven North Sea boats : but they of Loxvestoft make 
benefit yearly of buying of herrings of the Hollanders; for 
likewise these Hollanders be " hosted " with the Lowestott 
men, as they be with the Yarmouthians. 
To the northward, two leagues, is the town of Great 
Yarmouth, very beautifully built upon a very 
pleasant and sandy plain of three toiles in length. 
kingdoms, hot 
This town is a place of great resort of all the ,yow, m- 
parable unto it 
herring fishermen of England. For thither do 
resort all the fishermen of the Cinque Ports and buildings. 
all the test of the West Country men of England, as far 
as Burport [Bridort], and Lyme [Regis] in Dorsetshire: 
and those herrings that they do take they do hOt barrel, 
because their boats be but small things, but they sell ail 
unto the Yarmouth herring-buyers for ready money. And 
also the fishermen of the north countries, beyond Scarborough 
and Robin Hood's Bay, and some as far as the Bishopric of 
Durham do thither resort yearly, in poor little boats called 
" Five-Men Cobbles"; and all the herrings that they do take 
they do sell fresh unto the Yarmouth men, to make red 
herrings. 
Also to Yarmouth, do daily corne into the haven up to the 
quay, all or the most part of the great Fleet of Hollanders, 
xvhich before I ruade relation of, that go in the Sword-Pinks, 
Holland-Toads, Crab-Skuits, \Valnut-Shells, and great and 
small Yevers ; one hundred and txvo hundred sail at one time 
together, and all their herrings that they do bring in, they do 
sell them all, for ready money, to the Yarmouth men. 



340 ADVANTAGEOUS SITUATION OF YARMOUTH. [T. 
Gentleman. 
Jan. t6 4. 

And also the Frenchmen of Picardy and Norrnandy, some 
hundred sail of them at a tirne, do corne thither ; and ail the 
herrings theycatch, they sell fresh unto these Herring-rnonger, 
of Yarmouth, for ready money. So that it amounteth unto a 
great sum of rnoney, that the Hollanders and Frenchmen do 
carry away frorn Yarrnouth yearly into Holland and France: 
which money doth never corne again into Eng]and. 
This town is very well governed by wise and civil [[rudent] 
Magistrates, and good orders carefully observed for the 
maintenance of their Haven and Corporation. And this town, 
by reason of the sîtuation, and the fresh rivers that belong 
to it, one [the Wensum] up to the city of Norvich; and 
another [the lVaveney] that runneth far up into Suffolk, a 
butter and cheese country, about Bunga [Bungay] and 
Betkels [Beccles] ; and a third [th Bure] that runneth far up 
into Flegg [by Aylesham] a corn country; by reason whereof 
this town of Yarrnouth is always well served with all kind 
of provision at good and cheap rates: whereby they of the 
town do relieve the strangers, and also do benefit thernselves. 
To this tovn belongeth sorne twenty Iceland barks, which 
yearly they do send for Cod and Ling, and some hundred 
and fifty sail of North Sea boats. They make a shift to live ; 
but if that they had the use of Busses and also barrelled fish, 
they would excel ail England and Holland. For they be 
the only fisherrnen for North seas, and also the best for the 
handling of their fish that be in ail this land. 
The herring buyers of Yarrnouth doth profit morethandoth 
the fisherrnen of Yarmouth, by reason of the resort of the 
Hollanders ; for that they are suffered to sell ail their roope- 
sick herrings at Yarrnouth to the Merchants there. And 
also the barrelled fish that the Flernings do bring in winter 
to London, Ipswich, Lynn, and Hull do also gale [gaul] 
thern : but for that [seeing that] out fisherrnen may, if they 
please, rnake barrelled fish thernselves ; and therefore I will 
hOt moan [bemoan] them ! 
Thc rncrchant hcrring buycr of Yarmouth that bath a 
Varmouth stock of his oxvn, so long as he can make his gains 
haven is the 
o.y «g«i. so certain with buying of roope-sick herrings of 
distress of 
,«,h«,,fon the Hollanders, will never lay out lais money to 
hh«m«. build or set forth Busses- and the fishermen be 
of the Cnque 
ports and all now so poor, by reason that they only do bear the 



T. Gentleman.-] BLACKNEY, WELLS, KIXGS LVNN, BOSTON. 34 I 
Jan. x6t4._J 

who|e charge of that costly haven, the merchant 
herring buyers being not at any charge thereof: 
but all that great cost cometh out of the fisher- 
men's labours for the maintenance of that wooden 
haven Itier], which amounteth to some rive 
hundred pounds a year, and some years more. 

others that do 
fish in those 
seas: and it is 
built all of 
tituber, again«t 
the vi,,|ence of 
the main sea. 
h is now in 
great danger 
tO COm tO 

ruin ; if they 
So that though they be xvilling, yet their ability avenothev 
will hot suffer them to do it ; neither can they intime. 
forbear [investi their money to adventure their herrings into 
the East [Baltic] Countries, where the best sales always be. 
To the northvard of Yarmouth eight leagues, are the 
towns of Blackney and \Vells, good harbours and fit for 
Busses: and they have good store of fishermen. And these 
towns have some twenty Sail of barks that they do yearly 
send unto Iceland. But these towns be greatly decayed, to 
that they have been in rimes past : the which places, if that 
they had but twenty Busses belonging to them, xvould soon 
grow rich towns in short time. 
Then is there [King's] Lynn, a proper gallant town for 
sea-faring men, and for men for Iceland. This is a rich 
town, and they bave some twenty Sail of Iceland ships, that 
they yearly send for Cod and Ling : and I ara in hope to see 
them fall to the use of Busses as soon as any men. 
To the northward is Boston, a proper town ; and like unto 
Holland's soil, for low ground and sands coming in : but yet 
there are but few fishermen; but it is a most fit place for 
Busses. If that they had but once the taste of them, they 
would soon find good liking. 
Next to Boston, some twenty leagues to the northward, is 
the great river of Humber, wherein there is Hull, a very 
proper town of sailors and shipping: but there be but few 
fishermen. But it is a most convenient place for to adventure 
Busses. 
There are also Grimsby, Paul, and Patrington. In ail 
these places now there is great store of poor and idle people, 
that know not how to live ; and the most of ail these places 
be decayed, and the best of them ail grow worse and worse : 
which with the use of Buses would soon grow rich merchant 
towns, as is in Holland. For to these places vould be 
transported of the East lands ail manner of commodities for 
the use of Busses; and bouses and work-yards erected for 



342 GRIsIç, PAUL, PATRINGTON, AND I-IuLL. [T. Gentlernan. 
/ Jan. 16x 4. 

coopers, and ropemakers, and great numbers of net-makers. 
And with the recourse of the ships that shall bring sait and 
other commodities, and ships that shall lade away their 
herrings and fish, these places shall soon become populous ; 
and money stirring plentifully in these places returned for the 
procedue [proceeds] of fish and herrings: which places now 
be exceeding poor and beggarly. 
In all these fisher towns, that I have before named, 
as Colchester, Harwich, Orford, Aldborough, Dunwich, 
\Valderswick, So[uth]w[o]ld, Yarmouth, Blackney, \Vells, 
Lynn, Boston, and Hull--these be ail the chiefest towns; and 
ail that useth the North seas in summer: and ail thesetowns, 
it is well known, be ruinated. 
In ail these towns I know to be--Iceland barks, and-- 
I crave North Sea boats" and ail these fishermen having-- 
pardon, for ' 
,ha, I o,it men a piece amounteth to the sum of--. But admit 
the particular 
.ur, b«rs ana that there are in ail the \Vest Country of England 
totalwhichsumlcould; of fisherboats, tag and rag, that bringeth home ail 
h«rs«tdo,, fresh fish, which seldom or never useth any sait; 
if I were com- 
and«d.° say, that they bave othermen a Fiece which makes 
the sum of--in ail England. 
But in ail these I bave not reckoned the fishermen, mac- 
kerel-catchers, nor the Cobble-men of the north country, xvhich 
having  men a piece, cometh to  rnen in all England. 
But so many in ail England, and I bave truly showed 
before, that the Hollander bath in one fleet of Busses, txventy 
thousand fishermen; besides ail them that goeth in the 
Sword-Pinks, Flat-Bottoms, Crab-Skuits, \Valnut-Shells, and 
Great Yevers, wherein there are hot less than tvelve thousand 
more: and ail these are only for to catch herrings in the 
North seas. Besides all they that go in the Fly-boats for 
Shetland Ling, and the Pinks for barrelled fish, and Tramrnel- 
boats: which cometh unto rive thousand more. 
So that it is most true, that as they bave the sure of-- 
fis.ermen more than there is in ail this land: and by reason 
of their Busses and Pinks and fishermen that set their 
Merchant-ships on work [a work] ; so have they  ships and 
 mariners more than we. 

** Our Author has however already specified the nurnber to be, at least, 
Iceland barks 26, and North Sea boats 237. 



T'Gentleman"] O U R FISItINGS BRING IN NO COIN. 343 
Jan. x6x4. A 

Ow IN our sum of --fishermen ; let us see what 
vent [sale] bave we for our fish into other countries? 
and what commodities and coin is brought into 
this kingdom ? and what ships are set on vork by 
them, whercby mariners are bred or employed? 
Not one! It is pitiful! 
For when our fishermen cometh home the first voyage [i.e., 
in the summer] from the North Seas, they go either to London, 
Ipsvich, Yarmouth, Lynn, Hull, or Scarborough ; and there 
they do sell, at good rates, the first voyage. But the second 
voyage (because that they which be now the fishermen, have 
not yet the right use of making of barrelled fish, wherevith 
they might serve France, as do the Hollanders) they be 
nov constrained to sell in England. For that it is staple 
[standard] fish; and not being barrelled, the French will not 
buv it. 
i3ut if that our fishermen had but once the use of Pinks 
and Line-boats and barrelled fish; then they might serve 
France as »vell as the Hollanders : »vhich by this new trade 
of Busses being once erected, and Pinks, and Line-boats 
after the Holland manner; there will be fishermen enough 
to manage the Pinks for barrelled fish, from November unto 
the beginning of May, only the most part of those men that 
shall be maintained by the Busses. For that, »vhen the Busses 
do !eave »vork, in the »vinter, their men shall bave employment 
by the Pinks for barrelled fish ; vhich men noxv do little or 
nothing. For this last »vinter at Yarmouth, there were three 
hundred idle men that could get nothing to do.. living very 
poor for lack of employment ; which most gladly would have 
gone to sea in Pinks, if there had been any for them to go in. 
And whereas I said before, that there vas not one ship set 
on vork by our fishermen : there may be objected against 
me this. That there doth every year commonly lade at 
Yarmouth four or rive London ships for the Straits [of 
Gibraltar], »vhich is sometimes true. And the Yarmouth 
men themselves do yearly send t»vo or three ships to 
Bordeaux, and two or three boats laden with o,or« 
English but 
herrings, to Rouen, or to Nantes, or Saint Malo: twoshipsthis 
year laded 
whereby there are returned sait, wines, and Nor- 
mandy canvas; whereby the King hath some custom. But 
there is no money returned into Englanà for these herrings, 



344 T 

Note here how 
the Hollanders 
emp:oy them- 
selves and their 
Ships ! Frst, in 
taking of the 
herrings quick 
[aliz,e] ; and 
yet are hot 
content ! but 
catch them 
again, af ter 
they Le dead ! 
and do set both 
their ships and 
mariners on 
work : and 
Enlish ships 
lie up a rotting ! 

HE COST OF A HERRING ]USS r'[T. Gentleman. 
• Jan. 16t4. 

which cost the Yarmouthians ready gold, before 
that they had them of the Hollanders and French- 
men to lade these ships : and therefore I may boldly 
say, Not one! 
And this last year now the Hollanders them- 
selves have also gotten that trade, for there did lade 
twelve sail of Holland ships with red herrings at 
Yarmouth for Civita Vecchia, Leghorn, Genoa, and 
Marseilles and Toulon. Most of them being ladened 
by the English merchants. So that if this be 
suffered, the English owners of ships shall have 
but small employment for theirs. 

Oxv TO shoxv truly, what the whole charge of a 
Buss will be, with all her furniture, as toast,s, 
sails, anchors, cables, and with ail her fisher s 
implements and appurtenances, at the first pro- 
J vided all new. It is a great charge, she being 
between thirty and forty Last [= 60 to 8o Tons] and will cost 
some rive hundred pounds [= about £2,25 ° in 2bresent value]. 
By the grace of GOD, the Ship or Buss will continue 
twenty years, with small cost and reparations: but the yearly 
slite [fraying] and wear of ber tackle and war-ropes and 
nets will cost some eighty pounds. 
And the whole charge for the keeping of her at sea for the 
whole summer, or three voyages ; for the fitting of a hundred 
Last of caske or barrels. 

If any will IOO Last of Barrels... L72 
know all the ...... 
particularsof For Sait, four months ...... 88 
v,'eys of Salt, Beer, four months ......... 42 
or Barrels of For Bread, four months 2 I 
Beer, or Hun- "'" 
dred[weight]sof Bacon and Butter ......... 
Biscuits, I will For Pease, four months ...... 3 
willingly 
solve [«xlSlan For Billet, four months ...... 3 
toi him ; but For rnen's wages, four rnonths 88 
here is the 
whole charge 
and with the 335 

One hundred Last of 
herrings, filled and 
sold at Lo the Last, 
cometh to one thou- 
sand pounds. 

Herrings ... ,I,OOO 
The whole charge 335 

Gotten ...... ,665 

most [at the [See full particulars in the later work Brltain's Btss in Vol. 1II. p. 62.1  
outside.] 
Here plainly appeareth that there is gotten £665 in one 



T. Gentleman." l T¥IICAL CASE OF A DUTClI FAIILY FISIING. 345 
Jan. x6x4._] 

summer, whereout if that you do deduct ioo for the wear 
of the ship and the reparations of her nets against the next 
summer; yet still there /'565 remaining for clear Ana I 
gains, by one Buss in one year. rated the 
Herrings, but 
The Hollanders do make iconsider] the profit of 
which is with 
their Busses so certain, that they do lay out their th« et. 
oxvn children's money, given them by their deceased they becom- 
monly sold by 
friends, in adventuring in the Busses; and also t« Hoadr, 
st I)antsic for 
there is in Holland a Treasury for Orphans opened ;xs .d ;.o 
and laid out in adventuring in the t3usses, t« Last. 
The Hollanders do make both a profitable and a pleasant 
trade of this summer fishing. For there was one of them 
that having a gallant great new Buss of his own, and he 
having a daughter married unto one that xvas his Mate in the 
Buss : the Ovner that was Master of this Buss did take his 
wife with him aboard, and his Mate his wife; and so they 
did set sail for the North seas, with the tvo women with 
them, the mother and the daughter. \Vhere, having a 
fair wind, and being fishing in the North seas, they had soon 
fiIIed their Buss with herrinxs ; and a Herring-Yager cometh 
unto them, and brings them gold and fresh supplies, and 
copeth [bargaineth] with them, and taketh in their herrings 
for ready money, and delivereth them more barrels R«dy 
and sait; and away goeth the Yager for the first o* 
which are as 
market into Sprucia [Prussia]. And still is the i,. « 
Buss fishing at sea, and soon after again was full E.xchange, to 
be paid at 
laden and boone [bound] home : but then another  sight. 
Yager cometh unto him as did the former, and delivering 
them more provision of barrels, sait, and ready money, and 
bids them farewell. And still the Buss lieth at sea, with 
the mother and daughter, so long, and hot very long before 
they had again ail their brrels full ; and then they sailed 
home into Holland, with the two women, and the buss laden 
with herrings, and a thousand pounds of ready money. 
If that any man should make question of the truth of this, 
it will be very credibly approved by divers of good credit that 
be now in the city of London. 
Now to show the charge of a Pink of eighteen or twentv 
Last [=36 to 4 ° tons]. The Pink being built new, and al 
things new into her, will not cost 26o, with ail her lines, 
hooks, and ail her fisher appurtenances. 



I T. Gentleman. 
346 TIIE COST OF A FISIIING PINK. k J.,6,«. 

And 

15 Last of barrels will cost ......... £Io 
5 Weys of " Salt upon Salt " ......... 
For Beer and Cask ............... 7 
For Bread ..................... 3 
For Butter ..................... 
For the Petty Tally ............... I 
For men's wages for two months, Master 
and ail together .............. 2o 
£57 

Fifteen Last of barrelled fish at £14 8s. the Last, which 
is but twenty-four shillings the barrel, amounteth to £216 ; 
whereout if that you do deduct £57 for the charge of setting 
her to sea, there is still resting £159 clear gain by one Pink, 
with fifteen Last 9f fish, for two months. 
Wherefore, seeing the profit so plain; and, by the grace 
of GOD, so certain; both by the Busses and Line-boats, 
whereby the Hollanders bave so long gained by: let all 
noble, worshipful, and wealthy subjects put to their 
adventuring and helping hands, for the speedy launching 
and floating forward of this great good common wealth 
business, for the strengthening of His Majesty's dominions 
with two principal pillars, which are, with plenty of coin 
brought in for Fish and herrings from other nations, and also 
for the increasing of mariners against all common invasions. 
And also for the bettering of trades and occupations, and 
setting of thousands of poor and idle people »n work, which 
now know not how to live; which by this Trade of Busses 
shall be employed : as daily we see is done, before our eyes, by 
the Hollanders. And, as always it hath been seen, that 
those that be now the fishermen of England have been always 
found to be sufficient to serve His Majesty's ships in former 
time, when there bas been employment: which tellows, by this 
new trade of building and setting forth of Busses will be 
greatly multiplied and increased in this land. \Vhich fellows, 
as ,,ve see the Hollanders, being well fed in fishing affairs, 
and strong[er] and lustier than the sailors that use the long 
southern voyages that sometimes are greatly surfeited and 
hunger-pined : but these courageous, young, lusty, fed-strong 
younkers, that shall be bred in the Busses, when His Majesty 



T. Gentlema-] FISHERMEN MAKE STRONG ACTIVE SAILORS. 347 
Jan. x64. j 

shall have occasion for their service in war against the 
enemy, will be fellows for the nonce! and will put more 
strength to an iron crow at a piece of great ordnance in 
traversing of a cannon or culvering, with the direction of 
the experimented [experielzced] Master Gunner, than two or 
three of the forenamed surfeited sailors. And in distress of 
wind-grown sea, and foul winter's weather, for flying forward 
to their labour, for pulling in a topsail or a spritsail, or 
shaldng off a bonnet in a dark night ! for wet and cold cannot 
make them shrink, nor stain that the North seas and the 
Busses and Pinks have dyed in the grain, for such purposes. 
And whosoever shall go to sea for Captain to command in 
martial affairs, or fo take charge fi)r Master in trade of 
merchandise (as in times past I have done both) will make 
choice of these fellows: for I have seen their resolution in 
the face of their enemy, when they have been legcramenta 
[Italian for lighl-hearted] and froticsome, and as forward as 
about their ordinary labours or business. 
And when His Majesty shall bave occasion and employ- 
ment for the furnishing of his Navy, there will be t i,ot,,. 
no want of Masters, Pilots, Commanders, and suf- k.ow,, 
]ast year [16x] 
ficient directors of a course and keeping of coin- ere, 
putation" but now there is a pitiful want of 
, along the coast 
sufficient good men to do the offices and labours « 
from Hull in 
before spoken of. All which, these men of the 
St. M ichael's 
Busses and Pinks will worthily supply, lXlountinCorn- 
And to the art of sailing they may happily attain, wall, onl for 
sailors to fur- 
For hitherto it bath been commonly seen, that nishbutseven 
ships, for the 
those men that have been brought up in their 
youth in fishery, have deserved as well as any in 
the Cunt Palo 
the land for artificial [scientific] sailing : for at this ti«,ahi 
noble Princess 
rime is practised all the projections of circular and but 
mathematical scales and arithmetical sailing by eightleagues. 
divers of the young men of the sea-coast towns, even as 
commonly amongst them, as amongst the Thamesers. 
Besides all the Hollanders belote spoken of, the Frenchmen 
of Picardy have also a hundred sail of fishermen, Soi« 
be 6o and 8o 
only [solely] for herrings on His Majesty's seas every 
year in the summer season ; and they be almost like buae,. 
unto the Busses : but they bave hot any Yagers that cometh 
unto them, but they do lade themselves, and return home twice 



348 ENGLISH SHALL WEAR OLD DUTCH SHOES ! ÇT. Gentleman. 
• L. Jan. 6¢. 

every year; and find great profit by their making but two 
voyages every summer season. 
And it is much to be lamented that we, having such a 
Th«HoU,a«rs plentiful country, and such store of able and idle 
do yearly take 
so,.,y. people, that not one of His Majesty's subjects is 
,hyao. there to be seen ail the whole summer to fish or 
raore than two 
raillions of to take one herring" but only the North Sea boats 
pounds ster-  
ling. And we, of the sea-coast towns that go to take Cod, the 3 
HisMajesty's do take so many as they do need to bait theii 
subjects, do 
take no more hooks and no more. 
than do bait 
our hooks! ,Ve are daily scorned by these Hollanders for 
being so negligent of our profit, and careless of our fishing ; 
and they do daily flout us that be the poor fishermen of 
England, to our faces at sea, calling to us and saying, Y 
English .t ya zall, or od s¢ove dragien, which in English is 
this, " You English ! we will make you glad for to wear out 
old shoes." 
And likewise the Frenchmen, they say, "We are apish," for 
that we do still imitate them in all needless and fantastical 
jags [tatters] and fashions. As it is most true indeed. For 
that they bave no fashion amongst them in apparel nor lace, 
points, gloves, hilts, nor garters; even from the spangled 
shoe-latchet unto the spangled hat and hatband (be it never 
so idle and costly): but after that we do once get it, it is far 
bettered by our nation. 
\Vherefore, seeing that we can excel all other nations, 
wastefully to spend money; let us in one thing learn of 
other nations[ to get thousands out of His Majesty's sea! 
and to make a general profit of the benefits that Almighty 
GOD doth yearly send unto us, in far more greater abundance 
than the fruit of our trees ! which although they [the fishes] 
be more changeable in the gathering together, yet is the 
profit far more greater unto this kingdom and common wealth 
of all His Majesty's subjects, increasing the wealth of the 
Adventurers; as also for the enriching of Merchants, and 
maintaining of trades, o.ccupations, and employing of ships, 
and increasing of marmers which noxv do but little or 
nothing; as also for the setting of poor and idle people on 
work, which now know not how to live. And to teach many 
a tall fellow to know the proper names of the ropes in a 
ship, and to haul the bowline; that now for lack of ern- 



X. Gentlem.,n.- Z;I2,OOO laU XO DUXCH, IN 8 WEEIS. 349 
18 Feb. x614..] 

ployment many such, by the inconvenience of idle living, 
are compelled to end their days with a rope by an 
proverb, 
untimely death; which by the employment of the 
Kallozv 
Busses might be well avoided, and they in time ,,, 
become right honest, serviceable, and trusty subjects. 

ErE SICE mv book came to the press, I bave been 
  [1 credibly certified by men* of good worth -.t, w,- 
lJ  1 (being Fishmongers). that since Christmas. ,«'^' s- 
• last, unto ths day; there hath been pald s,,, TO,- 
LEV, and diver 
to the Hollanders, here in London, only for bar- «ro«, 
Company of 
rels of fish and Holland Ling, the sure of Twelve Fi,hmongers. 
thousand pounds [= about £5o,ooo in lhe rescnt d«y]. 

And last of all, if that there be any of worshipful Adven- 
turors that would have any directions for the building of 
these Busses or fisher-ships, because I know that the ship 
carpenters of England be hot yet skilful in this matter; 
wherefore if that any shall be pleased to repair to me, I will 
be willing to give them directions and plain projections and 
geometrical demonstrations for the right building of them, 
both for length, breadth, and depth, and also for *«rorro- 
their mould under water, and also for the con- viding of their 
Cordage and 
triving of their rooms and the laying of their 
gear, - according to the Hollanders' fashion. Any 
and cheapest 
man shall hear of me at Master NATHANIEL rates. 
BUTTER'S, a Stationer's shop at Saint Austen's Gare in 
Paul's Churchyard. Farewell this ISth of February [1614]. 

FINIS. 



350 

The States Proclamation. 

Yras]ated out of Dutch. 

HE States General o) t the United Provinces o) t the 
Low Countries, recto all those that shall see or kear 
these lbresents greeting, lVe let yo to wit, that 
whercas if is wdl known, that the great fshing and 
catching of lerrings is the chiefcst trade and lbrincial Gold Mine oJ 
these Unitcd Countrics, whereby many thousands of households, 
familles, handicrafts, trades, and occupations are set o work, 
well maintained, and lroslber; es]ecially the sailing aud naviga. 
tions, as well within as without these Couttries, is kelbt i» great 
estimatiot,: moreover, many ret.ur,s of mo,ey, with the increase 
of the means, convoys, customs, and revemtes of these countries are 
augmented thereby and ros]er. And forasmuch as there are ruade, 
from rime to rime, many good Orders conccrning the catching, 
salting, and benefcial tttering [disposal] of the said herrings, fo 
the end to lbreserve and maintai» the said Chief Trade i» the 
United Prov&ces ; whicl» trade, by divers cncounters of some that 
seek their own gain, is envied in respect of the great good t 
bringeth fo the United Countries ; and lVe are ioEormed that a 
device is lbut in lbractice fo the lbrejudice of the trade, fo translbort 
out of the Unitcd Countries into other countries staves for herrh,g- 
barrels ruade here, and half herring-barrels lbut into othcr barrds, 
.qud nets; to cross the good orders and ibolicy here intended to 



StatesofHolland.'],9 July.3 EXPORT OF IARREL STAVES FORBIDDEN. ,35 I 
them of these comztrics for the catching, saltfig, a,d sdling the 
herri»,gs dressed in other countries aftcr the order of thcse countrics, 
whereby this chier trade shonld be dccayed hcre, and the inhabiants 
of these conntries damnified [damaged] if we make hot provi- 
sion in time against such ractices. 
Therefore lVe, after mature jnçcment and dclibcration, bave 
#rbidden and interdicted, and by these resents do #rbid and 
interdict all and every one, as well homc-born inhabitants as 
strangers frequenting these parts, o take « any hcrring-barrcls 
or half ones rcared, or any kind of nets, in any shi, town, or 
haven of the United Provinces, fo fie sent ito other conntries or 
filaccs ; ,o #aih of confiscation of the saine, and the shi also 
wherein they shall be #und, besides a cnalty of one hundred of 
Netherland Silver Royals, for the first rime : and for the sccond 
time, above confiscation of ship and goods, and font hundred of the 
said Royals of Silver : and for the third thne, above coscalio» 
of shi and goods and six hnndred of the said Ro,als of Silver, 
cororal pun ish n.en t. 
All which confiscations and enalties shall be distribnted one 
third part to the profit of the laintiff [informer--? including 
the corporal punishment] ; one third part fo thc oor ; and one 
third part to the Ocers, whcre the said confiscation shall be 
demanded. 
And hot only they shall incnr this penalty, which after shall be 
taken with the deed, bnt hey also that withfi one year after the 
deed shall be convicted ; and that none may #rctend ignorance, and 
that this order may be in all #laces ditly observed, and the offcndevs 
#unished according to justœeee, lVe will and reqnire, ottr dear and 
well beloved Estates, Governors, Dcnties of the Cotncil, and the 
Estates of the respective rovinces of Gueldcrland, and the connly 
of Satfill fit Holland, Il'est Fricsland, Zealand, Utrecht, Friesland, 
Mer&, the town of Groni-ngen, and the cimumjacent places : and 



35"- Acso OF MALF HERRING BARRELS. [StatesofHolland.,gjul,. 
fo all yust[ces and Officers, that they cause fo be published in all 
places and proclaimed where the usual proclamatio, and publica- 
tion is ruade ; We do charge also the Chancellors aud Provincial 
Council, and the Council of .ddmiralfy, the A dvocatistical, and 
lhe Procurer Gcnernl, and all ofhcr Ocers, yudges, and yustices 
o[ these United Provinces, and to all general colonies, A dmirals 
and Vice-Admirais, Captains, Ocers, and Commanders, fo 
pcrform and cause fo be performed this order and commandment, 
and to proceed and cause fo be proceeded against the offenders 
without gre, favottr, dissimulation, or composition : because we 
bave found it necessary for the good and bcnefit of the said United 
Provinces. 
Dated in Haguc, this Igth of uly. 

FINIS. 



TUE, 

THE 

MISTR 

ESS 

OF 

P III L' R E TE. 

\Vritten by 
GEO: WITHER. 

CAa'tre. Carmen. xv. 
nihil veremur 
Istos, quid in platea, modo huc, modo illuc 
In re pretereunt stta occupati. 

Printed 

LON DON . 
for John Grismand. 
M.DC.X X I I. 



lit is singular that this truly astonishing Poem, a poetical four de force 
cas it is, should hot hitherto have obtaincd a universal acceptance and 
recognition. In it we see XVITHER at his prime ; and cannot but admire 
.as much the sterling integrity of his Character, as the wonderful fertility 
of his poetical Invention. 
His mastery hercin over rhythm and rhyme, also amply vindicates the 
.opinion of Dryden : who, considering himself unmatched by any in tkcilitF 
,of versification, openly excepted XVvrHER, and F. QUARLES. 
Well has out Poct said 
II'hen olh«r noble Dames, 
3, .grea/«r men allended, 
Shall, with tkeD" lires ami names 
ave all lhe# fflori's ended : 
lf'ilhffresl ueens, shall She 
Sil, shar£ng eçual ffloly ; 
nd Times la corne shall be 
Del(ghh'd with out Slory. 
First stanza on #. 386.] 



355 

THE STATIONER 

TO THE READER. 

HIs being one of the Author's first poems, was 
composed many years agone; and (unknown to 
him) gotten out of his custody by an acquaintance 
of his. And coming lately to my hands, without 
a name: it was thought to have so much resem- 
blance of the Maker, that many, upon the first sight, under- 
took to guess who was the author of it ; and [were] persuaded 
:that it ",vas likely also, to become profitable both to them 
and me. 
XVhereupon, I got it authorised, according to Order iii 
• was entercd at Stationers' Hall, on 3 Ist ffanuay, 1622] ; intending 
to publish it without further inquiry. 
But attaining by chance, a more perfect knowledge, to 
nvhom it most properly belonged ; I thought it fitting to ac- 
quaint him therewithal. And did so, desiring also both his 
good will to publish the saine, and leave to pass it under 
lais name. Both [of] which, I found him very unwilling to 
permit ; least the seeming lightness of such a subject might 
omewhat disparage the more serious studies, which he hath 
.since undertaken. 
Yet doubting (this being got out of his custody) some more 
imperfect copies might be scattered abroad, in writing; or be 
unknown to him) imprinted : he was pleased, upon my im- 
portunities, to condescend [agree] that it might be published 
»vithout his name. 
And his words were these : 
" When," said he, " I first composed it, I well liked there- 



['Ostensibly J. Marriot- 
356 To TzE RE,ER. I a,,»..W,her. 
of; and if well enough became my years ; but, now, I neither 
like nor dislike it. That, tberefore, it should be divulged, I 
desire hot ! and whether it be ; or whether, if it so happen, 
it be approved or hot, I care hot [ For this I ara sure of, 
howsoever itis valued, it is worth as much as I prize itat. 
Likely it is also, to be as beneficial to the world, as the 
worid hath been to me ; and will be more than those who lik 
it hot, ever deserved at my hands." 
These were his speeches. And if you looked for a Pro- 
logue, thus much he wished me to tell you, instead thereoL 
" because," as he said, "he himself had somewhat else to 
Yet, to acknowledge the truth, I was so earnest with him, 
that, busy as he would seem tobe, I got him to write thig 
Eistlc for me. And have thereunto set my naine : which he 
wished me to confess, partly, to avoid the occasion of belying 
my invention; and partly, because he thought some of you 
would suppose so much. 
I entreated him to explain his meaning in certain obscure 
passages. But he told me how "that were to take away the 
employment of his interpreters [critics : whereas he would, 
purposely, leave somethinK remaining doubtful, to see what 
Sir POLITIC WOULD-BE and his companions would pick out 
of it." 
I desired him also to set down, to what good purposes, thig 
Poem would serve. But his reply was how "that would be 
well enough bund out in the perusing, by all such as had 
honest understandings ; and they who are hot so provided, h 
hopes will not read it." 
More, I could hot get from him. 

Whether, therefore, the Mistress of PHIL'ARETE be really a 
\Voman, shadowed under the naine of VIRTUE ; or Virtue only, 
whose loveliness is represented by the beauty of an excellent 
\Voman: or whether it mean both together, I cannot tell 
you ! 
But thus much dare I promise for your money, that, here, 
you shall find, familiarly expressed, both such beauties a 
young men are most entangled withal; and the excellency 
also of sucb as are most worthy their affection. That seeing 
both impartially set forth by him, that was capable of both ; 
they might the better settle their love on the best.. ' 



'Os..msibly |. Marriot.-] 
Reallyï_;. Witlu:,'.| T o T t  R  :  E a. 357 
 Jn. i6-.j 
Hereby, also, those xvomen, who desire to be truly beloved, 
may know what makes them so to be : and seek to acquire 
those accomplishments of tbe Mind xvhich may endear them, 
when the sweetest features of a beautiful Face shall be con- 
verted into deformities. 
And here is described that Loveliness of theirs, which is the 
principal object of wanton affection, to no worse end, but that 
those (who would never havelooked on this Poem, if Virtue and 
.Goodness had been therein no otherwise represented, than as 
hey are Objects of the Soul) might (where they expected the 
satisfaction of their sensuality only) meet with that also, 
vhich would insinuate into them an Apprehension of more 
reasonable, and most excellent perfections. Yea, whereas the 
• common opinion of Youth hath been, that only old men, and 
:such as are unable, or past delighting in a bodily loveliness, 
are those who are best capable of the Mind's perfections; and 
that they do, therefore, so much prefer them belote the other, 
because their age orstupidity hath deprived them of being 
ensible what pleasures they yield: though this be the 
vulgar error; yet, here, it shall appear, that he who is able 
to conceive the most excellent Pleasingness which could be 
apprehended in a corporCal Beauty, found it (even when he 
was most enamoured with it) far short of that inexpressible 
8weetness, which he discovered in a virtuous and weli 
tempered Disposition. 
And if this be hot worth your money ; keep it ! 

JOHN IARRIOT. 



358 

P H I L A R E T Eo 

7"o bis Mistress. 

AIL! thou Fairest of all Creatures, 
Upon whom the sun doth shine ! 
Model of all rarest features, 
And perfections most divine, t 
Thrice, Ail Hail! And blessed be, 
Those that love and honour thee ! 

Of thy worth, this rural Story, 
Thy unworthy Swain bath penned ; 
- And to thy ne'er-ending glory, 
These plain Numbers doth commend : 
\Vhich ensuing Times shall warble, 
,\:hen 'ris lost, that's writ in marble. 

Though tly praise, and high deservings, 
Cannot ail, be here expressed ; 
Yet my love and true observings 
8orne way, ought to be professed ! 
And where greatest love we sec, 
Highest things attemptèd be. 



G. Wither.-].x6z2.A p 1I I L'A R E T E T O II I S t I S T R E S S • 359 

By thy Beauty, I have gainèd 
To behold the best perfections; 
By thy Love, I have obtainèd 
To enjoy the best affections. 
And my tongue to sing thy praise ! 
Love and Beauty thus doth raise. 

What although in rustic shadows, 
I, a Shepherd's breeding had ! 
And confinèd to these meadows, 
So in home-spun russet clad ! 
Such as I, have, now and then, 
Dared as much as greater men. 

Though a stranger to the Muses, 
Young, obscurèd, and despised ; 
Yet such Art, thy love infuses ! 
That I, thus, have poetised. 
Read! and be content to sce 
Thy admirèd power in me ! 

And 0 grant, thou Sweetest Beauty ! 
(Wherevith ever Earth was graced), 
That this Trophy of my duty 
May, with favour be embraced ! 
And disdain not, in these rhymes, 
To be sung to after Times ! 



360 

I-G. Wither. 
13IIIL'ARETE TO tlIS [ ISTRESS. l  ,622. 
Let those doters on APOLL0, 
That adore the luses so, 
(And, like geese, each other follow) 
See what Love alone can do ! 
For in love lays, Grove and Field; 
Nor to Schools, nor Courts will yield ! 

On this Glass of thy Perfection, 
If that any women pry ; 
Let them, thereby, take direction 
To adorn themselves thereby ! 
And if aught amiss they view ; 
Let them dress themselves anew ! 

Young men shall, by this, acquainted 
With the truest 13eauties, grow; 
So the counterfeit, or painted, 
'I'hey may shun, when them they knov,,. 
But the \Vay, all will not find; 
For some eyes bave, yet are blind. 

ïhee ! entirely ! I bave loved : 
So thy Sveetness on me wrought. 
Yet thy Beauty never moved 
Ill temptations in my thought. 
But, still, did Beauty's ray 
Sun-like, drive those fogs away. 



43. XVither.-[ 
P 
II I L'A R E T E T O II I S 1I I S T R E S S 36 
 ;6zz.J • 

Those, that Mistresses are named ; 
And for that, suspected be: 
Shall hot need to be ashamed, 
If they pattern take, by Thee! 
Neither shall their Servants tear» 
Favours, openly to wear. 

"rhou, to no man favour deignest I 
But what's titting to bestow. 
Neither Servants entertainest ! 
q_'hat can ever wanton grow. 
For, the more they look on Thee» 
Thcir Dcsires still better be! 

q'his, thy Picture, therefore, show I 
Naked unto every eye : 
.Yet no fear of rival know I, 
1Neither touch of jealousy. 
For the more make love to Thee ! 
I, the more shall pleased be. 

I am no Italian Iover 
That will mev thee in a gaoI ; 
]3ut thy Bcauty I discover, 
English-likc, without a veil. 
If thou mayest be won away : 
Win and wear thee, he that may! 



362 

I-G- Wither.. 
PHIL'ARETE TO IIIS ¢ ISTRESS. L t 

Yet in this, Thou may'st believe me ! 
(So indifferent, though I seem) : 
Death with tortures vould hot grieve me 
More, than loss of thy esteem ! 
For if VIr<'rUE me forsake ! 
All a scorn of me will make. 

Then, as I, on Thee relying, 
Do no changing fear in Thee ! 
So, by my defects supplying ; 
From all changing, keep thou me ! 
That unmatched we may prove 
Thou, for 13eauty ! I, for Love 

Then, xvhile thcir loves are forgotten, 
Who to Pride and Lust were slaves ; 
And their Mistresses, quite rottcn, 
Lie, unthought on, in their graves : 
King and Quecns, in thcir de'.pitc, 
Shall, to mind us, takc dclight. 



363 

FAIR VIRTUE, 

O R 

THE MISTRESS OF P H I L A R E T E. 

[*Alr«sfard F'aal.] 

Wo prctty rills do mect ; and mccting, llake 
Within one vallcy, a largc silvcr lake : 
A bout whose banks, the f«rtilc monnlains slood 
In ,1.,cs passèd, bravely crowned with wood ; 
Which lcnding cold-swcct shadows, gave 
grace 
To be accomltcd CYNTHIA'S bathing-place. 
And from hcr fizthcr NEPTUNE'S brackish 
Court, 
Fait TI-IETIS lhither, oflcn, would resoa't ; 
A ttended by the fishcs of the sea, 
ll'hich, ie these swectcr waters came to lblay. 
Therc, would thc Daugtcr o[ thc Sca God dive : 
And thither came the Lmld Nymphs, evcry eve, 
To wait upon ber ; bringin,ç for ber brows, 
Rich garlands of swcet flowers, and hcechy bou.¢hs. 
For lblcasant was that Pool;  and ncar it, thcn, 
Was ncithcr roltcn marsh, nor boggy fen. 
If was hot overgrown with boistcrous secl,çe, 
Nor grcw thcre rudcly, thcn, alon,¢ the edge 
A bcndin,, willow, nor a trickly bush, 
Nor broad-leafed flag, nor reed, nor knotty rush 
But hcrc, wcll ordcred, was a grove with bowcrs 
Thcrc, grassy tdots sct round about with flowers. 
I-Iere, you might, through the walcr, sec the land 



364 

I-G. Wither. 

Aplcar , strcwcd o'cr with white or yellow sand. 
Yon, dcclcr was it ; and thc wind, ly whiffs, 
Woldd nmke if risc, and wash the little cliffs ; 
On which, off luming, satc, uoErightcd theu, 
The gafling wild goose, and thc snow-white swan, 
With all thosc flocks of fowls, which, fo this day, 
Upon those quict waters brced and #lay. 
For, hough thosc exccllcnccs wanting be 
lVhich oncc it had, itis thc saine that wc, 
B transposition, naine the Ford t,.[ A rlc : 
And out of which, along a chal 3, mari, 
That river trills, whosc waters wash thc 
In which brave ARTHVR kcfit his royal Court.¢ 

North-cast, hot far from. this grcat Pool, lb»re lies 
A tract of becchy mountains, that arisc, 
ll'ith lcisurcly ascending, to such hcigkt 
As #oto thcir tops, the warlike Isle of I|'Lht 
You, in the Ocean's bosom, may cspy : 
Though ncar two hundrcd l'urlongs thcnce if lie. 
The Slcasant way, as up those hills you climb, 
ls strcwcd o'er with nlal:]oram and lhymc, 
Which. row unsct. The hedgerows do hot want 
The cowsli], violet, !rimrose ; nor ce 15lant 
Tkat Jreshly scents : as birch, both rccn and tall ; 
Low sallows, on who,e bloomings, becs do Jall ; 
Fait woodbines wkich, about the hcdl,es twinc 
.lnooth lSrivct, and the sharç-sweet cglantine ; 
With many more, whose lcaves and blossoms fizir 
The Earth adora, and oft lxfume the A ir. 
Whcn 3,oi», i»1ltO the hil4hcst do atlain 
.ci 1» intcrm1"XtlWe both of wood and 
t'oz» shall behold ! which, thoul¢h aioft it lie, 
Hath. clowns.[or shcc, and ficlds for husban,! O,: 
,Fo u11zch, at least, as litlle, needcth more 
If hot cnough to merclmndise their store. 
In cvoy row, kath Nature ])lantcd there ; 
Some banquet for the hungry passcngcr. 
For bore, the hasle-n1»t and filbird grows ; 
Therc, bldlocs ; and littlc furthcr, slocs. 
On this hand, standeth af air wiclding-trcc 



G. Vther. 
 6z.._l • 

On that, large thickcts of black chcvvies be. 
The shrubby fields are raspice ovchards, there ; 
The new fcllcd wo.ods, like stvawbcrry gardcns arc. 
And had thc King of Rivers blcst those hills, 
lVith some small number of such prctty rills 
A s flow elsewhere, rcadia had hot secn 
A swcetcr lot of carth than this had bccn. 
For what offcnce, this place was scantcd so 
Of springing waters, no record doth show ; 
Nor bave fhey old tradition, lcft, that tclls ; 
Bul fill this day, at fifty-fathom, wells, 
The Shcpherds drink. And strange it was, fo hcar 
0[ any Swain that ever livd thcrc, 
Il'ho, cithcr in a Pastoral Ode had skill, 
Or kncw fo set his fin,¢ers fo a quill : 
For rudc they wcre, who thcre inhabitcd, 
And to a dull contentment bcing bred, 
Thcy »o such A ri cstccmcd ; nor took much hccd 
Of an),thing lhe world wilhout lhcm, did. 
Ev'n thcre, and in the lcast rcqucnted çlace 
Of all these mountains, is a little space 
Of çleasant ground hcmmed in with dr@in,¢ trccs, 
 nd those so thick, that PHOEBUS scarccly secs 
The earth they grow on, once in all thc year ; 
Aror what is done atnong the shadows thcre : 
A long those lovcly çaths, (u,hcrc ncver came 
Reçort of PnN's, or of APOLLO'S naine ; 
Nor rumour of the Muses, till of laie) 
Some Nymçhs were wandering, and, by chance or#te, 
Upon a laund* arrivcd, whcrc they met 
The little flock of Pastar PHILARET. 
Thcy wcre a troop of Beautics known well 
Thrgtçh ail the plains of happy Brittany. 
A Sheçherd's Lad was Ho, obscure and young, 
lVho, being first that cver there had sung, 
I» homely verse, cxpressèd country loves, 
A nd only old thcm fo he becchy groves ; 
A s if lb sound his naine, he never meant, 
Beyond the compass that his shcewalk wcnt. 
Thcy saw him hot, nor hcm #crceivèd 
For in the branchcs of a nale tme,. 



366 

| G. Whher. 
FA IR VIA" TUE, TtI£ L  ,6,. 

Hc shroudcd sate : and t,utght the hollow bill 
To echo forth the music of his quill ; 
lVhose tattling voice rcdoublcd sothe sound, 
That wherc he was conccalcd, thcy quickly found. 
And lhcrc, lhcy hcard bi» sing a Madrigal 
That soon hctr«o,cd his cunning fo thc» ail. 
Full rude it was, no doubt, but such a Song 
Thosc rustic a»d obscur?d shadcs among, 
IVas nevcr heard, thcy soEv, by any ca»', 
Until his Muses had inslbircd him thcre. 
Thou.gh mcan and lblai»t, his country habit secmcd, 
Yct by his Song, thc Ladics rhlly dcemcd 
That cithcr he had travcllèd abroad, 
]|'herc Swains of bcttcr knowlcdge makc abodc ; 
Or clsc, that some brave Nymph who useà that grove, 
Had dcignèd to cnrich him with hcr love. 
Ai3[roaching nearcr, therfore, fo this Swain, 
Thcm, him saluted ; and hc, the» again, 
1» such good fashion, as wcll scemcd fo be 
A ccording to »hoir state, a»d his dcgree. 
II'hich grcctings bei»tg passcd, and much chat 
Conccrnin.g him., thc place, with this and that ; 
He, to an arbour doth those Bcautics bring, 
lVherc he, thcm prays to sit ; thcy, bi» to sing, 
And to exlbrcss that un.taught Country Art, 
In scttinl,, forth thc Mistrcss of his hcart 
lI'hich th O, o'crhcard bi» praetice, whe» unseen, 
Ho tho»ght no car had witncss of if bccn. 
A t first, as much unablc, hc refused, 
.4 nd seemCd willing to havc bccn excused 
From such a task, "For trust me, Nymphs ! " quoth 
" I would no» lkurlboscly uncivil be, 
Nor churlish in dcnying what you crave ! 
But, as I hope great PAN Ity flOCk will save ! 
I rather wish that I mt,ht, heard of none, 
.Enjoy my music by myself alonc ; 
Or that thc murmurs of some lit»le flood, 
..7oincd with the friendly cchocs of the wood, 
Might be the impartial umpircs of my wit ; 
Than vent if whcre thc world might hcar of if. 
And doubtlcss, I had sang less loud while-ere, 



Had I but thought of any such so near. 
No . that I either wish obsc-ur/ïed 
Hcr matchless Beauty, or desire fo Mde 
Hcr sweet Pcrfcctions. For, by Love 
The utmost happincss I aire at hcre 
Is but fo compass lVorth cnou,h fo raise 
A hi,l built Trophy cqtal fo hcr pr,xise. 
lVhich, fairest Ladics ! I shall hopc in vain» 
For I was meanly brcd on yondcr plain ! 
And though I can well lhrove my blood fo be 
Derivcd.[rom. no ignoble Stcms, fo me : 
Yet Fate and Time thcm so obscured and crosst 
That with thcir forluncs, thcir cstecm is lost ; 
And whatsoe'er rcpute I strive fo win, 
Now from mysclf alone, it must beght. 
For I bave no cstatc, nor fricnds, or fa»te, 
To purchase eithcr credit fo my naine, 
Or gain a good o[inion ; though I do 
Asccnd the heiA, ht I shall aspire tnto. 
If any of those virtucs yct I bave 
Whicl honour fo my prcdccesssors gave .'. 
Thcre's all, that's lcft me ! And though some contcmn 
Such needy jewcls : yet it was for them, 
My Fait One did my humble suit affect ; 
And dcignèd my advcnturous love, respect .- 
A nd by their help, I passage hope to make, 
Through such poor lhings as I date ,tndertake. 
But, you may say, ' ll,'hat goodly thing, alas» 
Cat my despisèd meanness bring to pass? 
Or what great Monument of Honour-raise 
To VIRTUE, in these vice aboundin days ? 
In which, a thousand rimes, more hanour finds» 
Ignoble gotten Means, than noble Minàs.' 
Indeed, the world affordcth small reward 
For honest minds, and therefore ber regard 
I seek hot after; neither do I care, 
If I have bliss, how othcrs think I rare ! 
.For, so .my thoughts have »'est ; it irks 
Though none, but I, do know how blest they be. 
Hem, therefore, in these groves and hidden plains, 
I [leas.d, sit alone, and maIoE strains 



I-G. Wither. 
368 FA.r« V«ru«, _'// t_ ,6,,. 

I carol fo mysclf, thcse hills among, 
IVhere no man cornes fo interrupt my son. 
lVlwreas, if my rude Lays, make known I should, 
Beyo»td thcir home ; #erhaps, some car#ers would 
(Because they have hot heard from whcnce we bc) 
Traduce, abuse, and scoff both thcm and me. 
For if out grcat and learned She#hcrds (who 
A re graced with Wit. and Faine, and Favours too 
IVffh much ado, escape uncensttrcd may 
lVhat hopes bave I to pass mtscorched, I #ray 
lVho yet unto t]tc Muses ara unknowu, 
And lire unhonom'cd, hcrc, 
A gaddin,ff humour seldom taketh 
To ra»tge out fm'thcr thau yon ntountains be ; 
Nor hatl aplausive Ru»tour borne my tame 
Upon the s#readin,ff u, ings of somtding Faine 
Nor can I thhk,#Hr Nymphs  that you resort 
For othcr #ur#osc, thau to make a sport 
A t that simplicity, wh#h shall appear 
A mong thc rude untutored Shepherds here. 
I kuow, that you, my noble Mistress-wccu, 
Af best, a homcl 2 milkmaid on the gvecn, 
Or som¢ stch country lass as taskèd stays 
A t semi{e labour mttil hoHdays. 
For #obr men's rb'tues so ;6lected gvw, 
And .are now prizèd at a rate so low ; 
As, 'ris impossible, you should be brought 
To let if with bdi(posscss your thougkt, 
That a»ty Nymph, whose love might worthy be, 
lVould dcign fo cast respective eyes on me. 
You see I lire, #ossessing nonc of those 
Gay things, ,ith which, the world enamotuzd grows. 
To woo a Courtly Beauty, I have neither 
Rings, bracelets, jcwels ; nora scaf, nor fcathcr. 
I use no double-dyèd cloth fo wear; 
No scrip cmbroidcred richly, do I bear : 
No silkcn bclt, nor sheephook laid with #earls, 
To win me favour from .the sh@herds' girls. 
No Place çf Office or Command I keep, 
Btt this my little flock of homely.shee#. 
And, in a u,ord ;- tle sure of all uy pclf 



G. Withcr.-] , 
: ._1 /lllsTRESS OF IIIIL.4.V.ET.E. 369 ` 

Is this, I ara the Master of myself! 
No dotbt, in Coltrts of Princes you have bcc:t .t 
And all the pleasres of thc Pa!ace scen 
Thcrc, you bchcld brave Cortly passagcs 
Betwecn Hcrocs and thcir Mistrcsses. 
You, there, perhaps, in presence of lhc Kin., 
Haz, e heard his lcarncd Bards and Poes sing 
And what contentmcnt, thcn, can wood or field, 
To plcase your crious undcrstandings yicld ? 
I know you walkkd hithcr, but to prove 
IVhat sily Shcphcrds do con.ceive of love ? 
Or to make trial how out simplcncss, 
Can Passions' force, or Bcan(y's power cxpress 
And when you are dcpartcd, 3'ou will joy 
To laugh, or dcscant on the Shephcrd's Boy 
Bnt yct, I vow  if all the Art I had 
Conld any more estcem or glory add 
To hcr unmatchd worth ; I would hot wcigh 
lVhat yon intendcd," " Prithee, Lad " qnoth 
" Distrustful of out cottrtesy do hot sccm 
er noblcncss can never want estecm, 
Nor thy conceatd Measnres bc disgraccd ; 
Though in a mcancr person thcy were laccd. 
If thy too modestly rescrvd quill 
But reach that height, which we snppose il will; 
Thy meanncss or obscurcness camtot wrong 
The Nymph thou shalt eternize in tlty Song. 
For, as it highcr rcars tl glory, that 
A noble Mistrcss thou hast aimd al ; 
So, more unto hcr honour it will prove 
That (whilst deceiving shadows othcrs movc) 
Her constant o,es could pass ,omovd by 
The subtle Timc's bcwitching bravery ; 
A nd those obscurèd virtues t5ve in thce, 
That with dcspisèd mcanncss clondcd be. 
Now thcn, #r Her swect sake  whosc bcattleotts eye Hath fillcd thy Soul with hcavcnly Poesy ; 
Sing in ber praise some new inspirèd Strain 
A nd if, within ont power, thcre shall ,main 
A favonr to be done fo pleasure thce ; 
Ask and obtain it, whatsoe'er it bel" 
G.«g. IV. 2 4 



.370 

I-G. Witber. 
 A I R I/'I R TU.E, T II E L . 6. 

"Fair Ladics !" quoth the Lad, "such words as those, 
Comlbcl me can " : and therewithal hc rose, 
Rcturncd thcm thanks, obdsance ruade ; and thc 
Down sate agai», and thus to sing bega. 

[:T/,« 
Du that, at a blush, can tell 
\Vhere the best perfections dwell! 
And the substance can conjecture» 
By a shadow or a picture ! 
Corne and try, if you, by this, 
Knov my Mistress, who she is ? 
For, though I ara far unable 
Here to match APELLES' table ; 
Or draw ZEUXES' cunning lines 
(\Vho so painted IACCHUS' vines 
That the hungry birds did muster 
Round the counterfeited cluster); 
Thouch I vaunt hOt to inherit 
æETRARCH'S yet unequalled spirit ; 
Nor to quaff the sacred well 
Hall so deep as ASTROPHEL ; 
Though the much-commended CELIA» 
Lovely LAURA, STELLA, DELIA, 
(Who, in former rimes, excelled) 
Lire in lines unparalleled, 
Making us believe, 'twere much 
Earth should yield another such : 
Yet, assisted but by Nature, 
I assay to paint a Creature, 
\-Vhose rare worth, in future years, 
Shall be praised as much as theirs. 

Nor let any think amiss 
That I have presumèd this ; 
For a gentle Nymph is She, 
And hath often honoured me. 
She's a noble spark of light 



°G..Wither.-]a622..j z/l"l S TRE S S 0 F l  1ri I" I..'A R E TE o 37 [ 

In each part so exquisite ; 
Had she, in times passèd been, 
They had ruade ber, Beauty's Queen. 
Then, shall coward Despair 
Let the most unblemished Fair, 
(For default of some poor Art, 
Which her favour may impart) 
And the sweetest I3eauty fade 
That was ever born or ruade ? 
Shall, of ail the fair ones, She, 
Only so unhappy be, 
As to live in such a "l:ime, 
In so rude, so dull a clime ; 
Where no spirit can ascend 
High enough, to apprehend 
Her unprizèd excellence, 
\Vhich lies hid from common sense ? 
Never shall a stain so vile 
/31emish this, our Poets' Isle! 
I myself will rather run 
And seek out for Helicon! 
I will wash, and make me clean 
In the waves of Hippocrene! 
And, in spire of Fortune's bars, 
Climb the Hill that braves the stars ! 
Where, if I can get no Muse, 
That will any skill infuse, 
Or my just attempt prefer ; 
I will make a Muse of Her! 
Whose kind heat sball soon distil 
_Art into my ruder quill. 
]3y her favour, I will gain 
Help to reach so rare a Strain ; 
That the Learned Hills shall vonder 
_How the Untaught Valleys under, 
Met with raptures so divine ; 
Without the knowledge of the Nine. 
I, that am a Shepherd's Swain 
Piping on the lovly plain, 
And no other music can 
Than what learned I have of P.N ; 



I-G. Wither.. 

I, who never sang the Lays, 
That deserve AI'OLLO'S bays ; 
Hope, hOt only here to frame 
Measures xvhich shall keep Her name 
From the spite of wasting Times: 
But (enshrined in sacred rhymes) 
Place her, where her form divine 
Sl'.all, to after ages, shine ; 
And, xvithout respect of odds, 
Vie renoxvn with Demi-Gods. 

Then, whilst of her praise I sing 
Harken Valley ! Grove ! and Spring 
Listen to me, sacred Fountains ! 
Solitary Rocks! and Mountains 
Satyrs ! and you xvanton Elves 
That do nightly sport yourselves! 
Shepherds! you that, on the reed, 
Whistle, xvhile your lambs do feed 
Agèd Woods and Floods ! that know 
Vfhat hath been, long rimes, ago 
Your more serious notes among, 
Hear, how I tan, in my Song, 
Set a Nymph's perfection forth ! 
And, xvhen you have heard her worth, 
Say, if such another Lass 
Ever knoxvn to mortal xvas! 
Listen Lordlings ! you that most 
Of your outward honours boast 
And you Gallants ! (that think scorn, 
We, to loxvly fortunes born, 
Should attain to any graces, 
Where you look for sweet embraces) 
See! if all those vanities 
Whereon your affection lies ; 
Or the titles, or the poxvers, 
(By your fathers' virtues, yours) 
Can your Mistresses enshrine 
In such State, as I xvill mine ! 
Who ara forced to importune 
Favours, in despite of Fortune. 



'G'Wither'"l J[ I S T 2 .E S S OF P II I I,' 4 
. ,,,._ . xeze. 373 

13eauties, listen ! chiefly you 
That 3"et know not Virtue's due ! 
You, that think there are no sports, 
Nor no honours, but in Courts ! 
(Though of thousands, there live hot 
Two, but die and are forgot). 
Sec, if any Palace yields 
Ought more glorious than the Fields ! 
And consider well, if we 
May not, as high-flying be 
In out thoughts, as you that sing 
In the chambers of a King ! 
See ! if our contented minds, 
\Vhom Ambition never blinds, 
(We, that, clad in homespun gray, 
On our own sweet meadows p]ay) 
Cannot honour, if we please, 
Where we list, as well as these ! 
Or, as vell, of worth approve ! 
Or, with equal Passions, love! 
Sec, if beauties may not touch 
Our soon-loving hearts as much ! 
Or our services effect 
Favours, vith as true respect, 
In your good conceits to rise, 
As our painted butterflies! 
And you, Fairest! give her room, 
When your Sex's Pride doth corne ! 

For that subject of my Song, 
I invoke these groves among 
To be witness of the Lays 
Which I carol in her praise. 
And because she soon will sec 
If my Measures faulty be, 
\Vhilst I chant them, let each rhyme 
Keep a vell-proportioned time; 
And vith Strains, that are divine, 
Meet her thoughts in every line! 
Let each accent there, present 
Ïo her soul, a nev content ! 



374 

FA IId VIR T U.E, TUE 

And, xvith ravishings, so seize her, 
She may feel the heigb.t of pleasure! 
You enchanting Spells, that lie 
Lurking in sxveet Poesy ! 
(And to none else will appear, 
But to those, that worthy are) 
Make Her know! there is a power 
Ruling, in these charms of 3"ours ; 
That transcends, a thousand heights, 
Ordinary men's delights ; 
And can leave within her breast 
Pleasures hot to be exprest ! 
Let ber linger on each Strain 
As if She xvould hear't again ! 
And were loath to part from thence 
Till She had the quintessence 
Out of each conceit, she meets ! 
And had stored her, with those sweetsl 
Make Her, by your Art to see ! 
I, that am her Swain, was he 
Unto whom all beauties here, 
\Vere alike and equal dear : 
That I could of freedom boast, 
And of favours with the most ; 
Yet, now, nothing more affecting, 
Sing of Her ! the rest neglecting. 
Make her heart, with full compassion, 
Judge the merit of True Passion ! 
And, as much my love prefer, 
As I strive to honour Her! 
Lastly, you that will, I know, 
Hear me, whe'er you should or no ! 
You, that seek to turn all flowers, 
By your breath's infectious powers, 
Into such rank loathsome weeds, 
As your dunghill nature breeds ! 
Let your hearts be chaste ! or here 
Corne hot, till you purge them clear! 
Mark ! and mark then, what is worst ! 
For vhate'er it seem at first, 
If you bring a modest mind, 

G. With¢r.. 



You shall nouht immodest find! 
But if any, too severe, 
Hap to lend a partial ear, 
Or, out of his blindness, yaxvn 
Such a word as, 0 profanc! 
Let him knoxv thus much from me, 
If here's ought profane, 'tis he 
\Vho applies these excellences 
Only to the touch of Senses ; 
And, dira sihted, cannot see 
\Vhere the Soul of this may be ! 
Yet, that no offence may groxv ; 
'Tis their choice, to stay or go ! 
Or if any for despite 
Rather cornes, than for delight ; 
For his presence, l'll hot pray, 
Nor his absence. Corne he may! 
Critics shall admitted be, 
Though I know they'll carp at me : 
For I neither fear nor care 
\Vhat in this, their censures are. 
If the Verse here usèd, be 
Their dislike. It liketh me ! 
If my Method they deride, 
Let thcrn know Love is -hot tied, 
In hfs free dfscoursc, fo choose 
Such strict Rulcs as d rts-men use. 
These may prate of LovE, but they 
Know him hOt! For he vill play 
From the marrer, now and then ! 
Off and on ! and off again ! 
If this Prologue, tedious seem, 
Or the rest too long they deem ; 
Let them knov my love they win, 
Though they go, ere they begin : 
Just as if they should attend me 
"FUI the last ; and, there, cornmend me. 
For I will, for no man's pleasure, 
Chanff, e a Svllable or Measure ; 
Neither for'their praises add 
Ought to mend what they think bad. 



3î6 

.FA ; R V I I¢ T U F , T II E 

Since it never was my fashion 
To make \Vork of Recreation. 
Pedants shall not tie my strains 
To our antique Poets' veins ; 
As if we, in latter days, 
Knew to love, but not to praise. 
]3eing born as free as these, 
I will Sing, as I shall please ! 
Who, as well new paths may run, 
As the best before have done. 
I disdain to rnake my Song, 
For their pleasures, short or long ; 
If I please, l'll end it here ! 
If I list, l'Il sing this year ! 
And, though none regard of it, 
]3y rnyself, I pleased call sit; 
And, with that contentment, cheer me, 
As if half the world did hear me. 
But because I ara assured 
AIl are either so conjured, 
As they will my Song attend, 
\Vith the patience of a friend ; 
Or, at least, take note that I 
Care not rnuch. Now wiilingly, 
I, these goodly colours lay, 
Wind, nor rain shall xvear away ; 
But retain their purest glass, 
'A'hen the statues ruade of brass, 
For some Prince's rnore renown, 
Shall be wholly overthrown ; 
Or consumed with cankered rust, 
Lie neglected in the dust. 

And my Reason gives direction 
\Vhen I sing of such Perfection, 
First, thosc bcautics to declare, 
]l'hi«h (though hers) without her are. 
To advance her fame, I find, 
q'hose are of a triple kind. 
.Privilcgcs she hath store 
A t her birth, sincc, and before. 



From before her birth, the fame, 
She of high descents may claim, 
\Vhose well-gotten honours may 
Her deserving more display, 
For, from heavenly race she springs, 
And from high and mighty Kings. 
At her birth, She was, by Fate, 
In those Parents fortunate, 
Whose estate and virtues stood 
Answerable to their blood. 
Then the Nation, Time, and Place 
To the rest, may add some grace. 
For the People, with the Clime, 
And the fashions of the Time ; 
(In all which, she hath been blest, 
By enjoying them at best) 
Do not only mend the features, 
I3ut, oft.times, make better natures: 
Whereas, those who hap hot so, 
13oth deformed, and ruder grow. 
In these climes, and latter days, 
To deserve sweet t3eauty's praise, 
(Where so many females dwell, 
That each seemeth to excel) 
In more glory twenty-fold 
Than it was in days of old : 
\Vhen out ordinary fait ones 
Might have been esteemèd rare ones ; 
And have made a subject fit, 
For their bravest Poet's wit. 
Little rushlights, or a spark 
Sheweth fairly in the dark; 
And to him occasion gives, 
That from sight of greater, lives, 
To adore it. Yet the ray 
Of one torch will take away 
All the light of twenty more 
That shined very well belote. 
So, those petty Beauties which 
Made the Times belote us, rich ; 
Though but sparkles, seemed a flame 



yG. Wither_ 
378 F : U:ze ".ru, ':: L . ,--- 

Which hath been increased by Fame, 
And their true affections, xvho, 
Better, never lived to know: 
Vhereas, Her, if they had seen 
She had, sure, adorèd been ! 
And taught Ages past, to sing 
Sxveeter in the Sonneting. 
Such a Ray. so clear! so bright 1 
Hath outshinèd all the light 
Of a thousand, such as theirs 
Who vere then esteemèd Stars ; 
And would have enlightened near 
Hall the world's xvide hemisphere. 

She is fairest, that ma), pass 
For a fair one, xvhere the Lass 
"l'rips it on the country green ; 
Tbat may equal Sparta's Queen. 
\Vhere, in every street, 3"ou see 
Throngs of Nymphs and Ladies be, 
That are fair enough to move 
Angels, and enamour JovE. 
She must matchless features bring 
That nov moves a Muse to sing: 
\Vhen as one small Province may 
Shew more beauties in one day, 
Than the half of Europe could 
I-Ireed them, in an age of cld. 
Such is She ! and such a lot 
Hath her rare perfection got! 

Since hcr birth (to make the colour 
Of so true a Beauty fuller ; 
And to give a better grace 
To that sveetness in the face) 
She bath all the furtherance had, 
Noble educations add. 
And not only knoveth all, 
Which our Ladies, Courtship call ; 
\Vith those knowledges that do 
Grace her sex, and suit thereto : 



JISSTXeSS OF PSZZ'.-«XZ 

I3ut She hath attained to find 
(What is rare with Womankind) 
Excellentes, whereby She 
May in Soul delighted be ; 
And reap more contentment than 
One of tventy thousand can. 
By this means, hath bettered been 
AI1 without her, and vithin ; 
For it hath, by adding Arts, 
To adorn her native parts, 
Raised to a noble flame, 
(\Vhich shall lighten forth her faine) 
Those dear sparks of sacred tire, 
Which the Muses did inspire 
At her birth : that She, complete, 
Might, xvith them befit a seat. 
But, perhaps, I do amiss, 
To insist so long on this. 
These are superficial things ; 
And but slender shadovings 
To the xvork I have in hand. 
Neither can you understand 
What Her excellence may be, 
Till Herself described you see ! 
Nor can mine or any pen 
Paint her hall so lovely, than 
As She is indeed. For, here, 
Might those deities appear, 
\Vhich young PARIS viewed at vill, 
Naked, upon Ida hill! 
That I, from those Three might take 
AIl their beauties, One to make ; 
(Those, no question ! well compact, 
\Vould have made up one exact) 
Something, yet, we miss, of might 
To express her Sveetness right. 
JuNo's majesty would fit; 
VENUS' beauty, PALLAS' wit 
Might have brought to pattern hers 
In some shewed particulars ; 
But they never can express 

379 



5So 

I;'.I I R .71R T U lï , T II lï 

Her xvhole frame or xvorthiness 
\Vith those excellences, which 
Make both Soul and t3ody rich. 
PALLAS, sometimes, xvas untovard, 
VENUS wanton, JuNo froxvard : 
Yea all three, infected were 
\Vith such faults as xvomen are; 
And, though falsely deified, 
Flailties had, which She'll deride. 
I3y Her Self, must therefore She ; 
Or by nothing patterned be ! 
And I hope to paint ber so, 
By Her Self, that 3"ou shall know 
I have served no common Dame, 
Of mean worth, or vulgar lame ! 
But a Nymph, that's fairer than 
Pen or pencil, portrait can ! 

And to-morrow, if you stray 
Back again this uncouth way, 
I, my simple Art will show: 
But the time prevents me noxv. 
For, except at yonder glade, 
AIl the laund is under shade ; 
That, before these ewes be told ; 
Those my xvethers, in the fold ; 
Ten young xveanlinv, s driven down 
To the well beneath the town ; 
And my lambkins changèd from 
Brome leaze, to the mead at home 
'Twill be far in night : and so, 
I shall make my father woe 
For my stay; and be in fear 
Somewhat is mischancèd here. 

On your way, l'Il, therefore, bring you ! 
And a Song or txvo l'Il sing you ! 
Such as I, hall in despair, 
Made when first I xvooed my Fair î 
\Vhereunto, my boy shall play; 
Ïhat my voice assist, it may ! 

G. Wither. 



;.Wither.-]? x6.l zT2'I S T R E S S OF t) I[ I L'A RE TE. 381; 

OME, my Muse ! If thou disdain ! 
A Il my comforts are bereft me ! 
No delight dolh now remain ; 
I, uor friend, ,tor flock havc lcft me. 
Thcy are scattercd on thc lhlain. 

dt nd make scoffs af loyers' fortuncs. 
Womcn, heartcd likc thc bcar ; 
That regards ,ot who imihortnues , 
But doth ail in lhieccs tcar. 

If I should my sorrows shew 
U,#o rivcrs, sabrings , or fountahts ; 
Thcy are scnsdcss fo my woe : 
So are groves, and rocks, and monntains. 
Thon, O, whithcr shall I go ? 

Mcans of harbour, me fo shicld 
From dcsabair ; ah, know you any ? 
For no city, grange, nor ficld, 
Though thcy lend contcnt fo Inany, 
Unto me, can cotoEor! yie/d. 

I bave weiht, and sighd too, 
For Co¢assion to make trial ; 
Yea, done all that words can do, 
Yet have nothing but dcnial. 
What way is ihcre, thcn, fo woo ? 

Shall I swear, lhrotcst, and vow ? 
So bave I donc, most cxtrcmcly ! 
Should I die ? I know hot how ! 
For from all attcnCts ,«nsccml', 
Love and Virtuc kcc# roc ,ow. 



.) ¢) I-G. W;thro 

I havc hcard that Time prcvai!s ; 
B«t I fcav me, 'tis a fable. 
Tiret, and all Endcavour fails ! 
To bcav more, my hcart's unable ; 
Yct nom carcth what if ails .r 

Liucs fo some, havc op'cd thc door 
.1 ml got entrance for Affection. 
ll'ords wcll spokcn, much im[lore, 
By thc Gcstm'cs' good direction : 
But a Look doth tcn rimes more ! 

"Tis thc Eye that only rcads 
To the hcart, Love's dccpest Lcctures ! 
13.), a moving Look, it plcads 
More that» comnton Scnse conjcctttres, 
And a way fo Pity leads. 

This I knowing, did observe ; 
Both by ll'ords and Looks comlblaiuing : 
Yet, for Pity, I may starve ! 
Therc's no holbe of my obtaining, 
Till I bettcr eau dcservc. 

Yea, and he that thinks fo 
By Descrt, may be dcccivèd ! 
For they who bave worlhiest bin, 
Of their right, bave been bcreavèd 
And a groom admittcd in. 

lVhcrcfore, Mttse ! to thec, I call ! 
Thott, since nothing elsc avails 
Must rcdcem me from my thrall ! 
If thy sweet enchanment fails me ; 
Thcn, a,dicu Love, Lifc, attd all ! 



'G'Wither"-I. x622.A AII S T ç E S S 017 _P H I L'.I It' I:" TE. ,383 

II. 
ELL me, my heavt .t lVhat thoughts, these lbantings more ? 
, My thoughts of Love  
ll'ha flamcs are thes, that set thee so on tire ? 
Flamcs of Dcsive  
What means has thou, contentment's flower to cro ? 
No means but Hoc  
l%t let us feM on Hoe, and hoc the best  
For tho, , amid lhcir gricfs, arc somcthing blest, 
ll'hose thonghts, and flamcs, and means bave such #zc scie, 
Thcy may, at once, both Love, Dcsi% and Hoe. 

But say .t lVhat fruit will love at last obtain ? 
Fruitlcss Disdain ! 
IVhat will those hoies #vove, which .),et seem so fair ? 
Hoicles s Dcsiair .t 
What end shall run those Passio,s, ont of brcath ? 
A n cndlcss Death ! 
0 can lheve be such cruelty in love ? 
And doth my fortune so ungcntle rove, 
She will no fruit, nor hotte , nor end bequeath, 
But cruelest Dis&tin, Des.baiv, and Death ? 

Then what new study shall I now apply ? 
Study fo Die .t 
How might I end my care, and die contcnt ? 
Carc to Rccnt  
And what good thoughts may makc iny end more holy ? 
Think on thy Folly  
Yes, so I will ! and since my fate can give 
No hope, but ever without hope fo lire, 
My studies, cares, attd thoughts, l'Il all aly 
To weigh my Folly wcH ! Reent ! and Die  



III. 
AD Eyes ! lVhat do you ail, 
To be thus ill dis[oscd ? 
||'hy doth your slce[ing fail, 
Now all -mcCs else are closed 
lVas't I, that ne'er did bow 
In any servile duty ! 
And will you make me, now, 
A slave fo Love and Bcauty ? 

lVhat though my Mistrcss smile, 
And U ber love affccts thce ! 
Let hot ber eye beguile ; 
I fcar she disres]ects thee ! 
Do hot, 2boor Hcart ! dclbcnd 
On those vain thoughts that fill thce .t 
They'll #dl au'e, in the end ! 
So must thy Passions kill thee ! 

What hopes bave I, that She 
Will hold her favours cver; 
lVhen so few women be 
That constant can crsvcr ? 
Whate'er She do pro&st ! 
IVhcn fortunes do dcceive me, 
Then She, with all thc rcst, 
I fear, Mas, will leave me ! 

Whil'st Youth, and Strength remains, 
With Art that may com-mend ber; 
Perha[s, She nought disdains 
Hcr Servant shouId attend ber. 
But it is one fo ten, 
If crosscs overtake me, 
She will hot know me, thet ; 
Bu scorn, and so forsake me ! 



G. Wither.-] 
 ,622.j lis:rss o" _PH,rZ',4,er. 385 

Shall then, in earnest truth, 
My careful eyes observe her ? 
Shall I consume my youth ; 
And short' my rime fo serve ber ? 
Shall I, beyond my strength, 
Let Passions' torments #rove me ? 
To hear her say, at length, 
Away ! I cannot love thee ! 

O, rather let .te die 
IVhil'st I, thus gentle find ber ! 
'Twere worse than death, if I 
Should find She proves unkhMcr ! 
One frown, awugk but in jest. 
Or one unkindness feignèd. 
Would rob me of more res! 
Than e'er could be regainCd. 

Butin ber eyes, I fitd 
Such signs of pity movhtg ; 
She cannot be unkhtd, 
Nor err, nor fail in loving : 
And on her forehead, this 
Seems written go relieve me, 
My heart, no joy shall miss 
That Love, or She tan give me I 

Eua. G.aR. IV. 

lVhich if I find, I vow 
My service shall persèver ! 
The saine tkat I ara now ; 
I will continue ever ! 
17o others' high degree, 
No beauteous look shall change 
My love shall constant be, 
And no estate estrange me ! 
25 



386 

lVhen othcr noble Dames, 
t3y greatcr men attended, 
Shall, with their lires and namcs, 
Have all tkeir glories endcd : 
With fidrest Qucens, shall She 
Sit, sharing cqual glory ; 
,4 nd Timcs fo corne shall be 
Dclightcd with our Story. 

In spire of others' hates, 
More honour I vaill do hcr ! 
T/tan those that ,ith estates 
 nd help offortmte woo ber : 
]'ca, that Truc II'orth I s,y ; 
Though monarchs strove to grace it, 
Thcy should hot reach more high 
Than I darc hoe to lace if ! 

,4 nd though I never vaunt 
ll'hat fiwours are tossesscd : 
Much less content I want 
Than if thcy u,ere ex2bresscd ." 
Let others make their mirth, 
To blab each kiss or toyh,g ! 
I know no bliss on earth 
Like sccrct love enjoying. 

,4nd this shall be the worst 
Of all that can betide me. 
If I (like some accurst) 
Should find my hoes deride »tel 
My cares will hot be long ; 
I know which way fo mend them ! 
l'll think, " Who did the wrong ! " 
Sigh .t break my heart ! and end thcm ! 



[7he Picture of Pair I/'zx zvï.] 

AIL, fair Beauties! and again, 
Hail to ail your goodly train ! 

What I promised yesterday, 
If it please you, hear ye may ! 
For now, once begun have I, 
Sing I will, though none were by; 
And though freely on I run 
Yet confused paths to shun. 
First, that part shali be disclosed, 
That's of Elements composed. 

There the two unequal pair, 
Water, Fire; Earth and Air 
(Each one suiting a complexion) 
Have so cunning a commixtion, 
As they, in proportion sweet, 
W'ith the rarest temper meet! 
Either, in as much as needeth ; 
;o as neither, ought exceedeth. 
This pure substance is the saine 
\Vhich the Body we do name. 
V¢ere that of immortal stuff, 
'Tis refined and pure enough 
To be called a Soul! for, sure, 
Many souls are hot so pure. 
I, that with a serious look 
Note of this rare Model took, 
Find that Nature in their places 
o well couchèd all the Graces, 



[G. Wither. 

As the curious'st eyes that be 
Cannot blot, nor blemish see. 
Like a pine it groweth straight, 
Reaching an approvèd height, 
And bath ail the choice perfections 
That inflame ber best affections. 
In the motions of each part, 
Nature seems to strive with Art ; 
\Vhich ber gestures most shall bless, 
With the gifts of Pleasingness. 
When She sits, methinks I see 
How all virtues fixèd be 
In a frame, whose constant mouId 
V'ill the saine unchangèd hold. 
If you note her, when She moves : 
CYTHEREA, drawn with doves, 
May corne !earn such winning notions 
As will gain to love's devotions, 
More than ail ber painted wiles ; 
Such as tears, or sighs, or smiles. 
• Some, whose bodies want true graces, 
Have sweet features in their faces : 
Others (that do miss them there), 
Lovely are, some other xvhere, 
And to out desires, do fit 
• In behaviour, or in wit; 
Or some inward vorth appearing 
To the soul, the soul endearing. 
But in Her, yom: eye may find 
Ail that's good in Womankind. 
What in others, we prefer, 
Are but sundry parts of Her ; 
\Vho, most perfect, doth present 
\Vhat might One and Ail content. 
Yea, he that, in love still ranges, 
And, each day, or hourlv changes ; 
(Had he judgement but'to knoxv 
What perfec'tions in ber grow) 
There, would find the spring of store, 
• Swear a faith, and change no more. 



G. Wither.-] jl'I S T R E S S OF _P tI I Z'A " 

Neither, in the total Frame, 
Is She only void of blame ; 
But each part, surveyed asunder 
Might beget both love and wonder. 
If you date to look so high 
Or behold such majesty ; 
Lift your wondering eyes, and see 
Whether ought can bettered be ! 
There's her Hair, with which Lov angles, 
And beholders' eyes entangles . 
For in those fait curlèd snares, 
They are hampered unawares ; 
And compelled to swear a duty 
To her sweet enthralling beauty. 
In my mind, 'tis the most fair 
That was ever callèd hair : 
Somevhat brighter than a brovn ; 
And ber tresses waving down 
At full length, and, so dispread, 
Mantles ber, from foot to head. 
If you saw her archèd Brow ; 
Tell me, pray! how Art knows ho' 
To have ruade it in a line 
More exact, or more divine ! 
Beauty, there, may be descriel 
In the height of all her pride. 
'Tis a meanly rising plain, 
\Vhose pure white hath many a rein 
Interlacing, like the springs 
In the earth's enamellings. 
If the tale be hot a toy, 
Of the little wingèd Boy : 
When he means to strike a heart, 
Thence! he throws the fatal dart, 
Which, of wounds still makes a pair; 
One of Love, one of Despair. 
Round, ber Visage; or so near 
To a roundness, doth appear, 
That no more of length it takes, 
Than what best proportion makes. 
Short her Chin is ; and yet so 



As it is just long enow. 
Loveliness doth seem to glory 
In that circling promontory, 
Pretty moving features skip 
'Twixt that hillock and the lip, 
If you note her, but the while 
8he is pleased to speak, or smile. 
And ber Lips, that shew no dulness, 
Full are, in the meanest fulness. 
Those, the leaves be, whose unfolding 
Brings sweet pleasures to beholding : 
For such pearls they do disclose ; 
Both the Indies match hot those ! 
Yet are so in order placed, 
As their vhiteness is more graced. 
Each part is so well disposed 
And her dainty mouth composed, 
8o as, there, is no distortion 
Iisbeseems that sweet proportion. 
When ber ivory Teeth she buries 
'Twixt her two enticing cherries, 
There appears such pleasures hidden, 
As might tempt what were forbidden. 
If you look again the whiles, 
8he doth part those lips in smiles; 
'Tis as when a flash of light 
Breaks from heaven to glad the night. 
Other parts, my pencil crave ; 
But those lips I cannot leave ! 
For, methinks, [if] I should go 
And forsake those cherries so ; 
There's a kind of excellence 
Holds me from departing hence. 
I would tell you, what it were ; 
But my cunning fails me there. 
They are like, in their discloses, 
To the morning's dewy roses; 
That, besides the naine of" faiv," 
Cast perfumes that sweet the air. 
Melting sort her kisses be ! 
And had I, now, two or three, 



.With«r.7x,.2.j JïrlS 7'RESS 0F _/gZ/IL'.4 RE TE. $9I 

More inspirèd by their touch, 
I had praised them twice as much ! 
But, sweet Muses ! mark ye bow 
Her fair Eyes do check me now ! 
That I seemed to pass them so, 
And their praises overgo : 
And yet, blame me hOt that I 
\Vould so îain have passed them by ! 
For I fearèd to have seen them, 
Least there were some danger in them ! 
Yet such gentle looks they lend, 
As rr.ight make laer foe, a friend ; 
And by their allurings move 
Ail bebolders unto love. 
8uch a power is also there, 
As xvill keep those thoughts in fear; 
And Command enough I saw, 
To hold impudence in awe. 
There, may he that knoxvs to love, 
Read contents which are above 
Their ignoble aims, who knoxv 
Nothing that so high doth grow. 
\Vhilst She, me beholding is, 
My heart dates not think amiss! 
For her sight, most piercing clear, 
Seems to see what's xvritten there. 
Those bright Eyes (that, with their light, 
Oftentimes have blest my sight ; 
And in turning thence their shining, 
Left me, in sad darkness, pining) 
Are the rarest, lovliest gray; 
And do cast forth such a ray 
As the man that black prefers, 
blore would like, this gray of hers. 
When their matchless beams she shrouds; 
'Tis like CYNTHIA hid in clouds ! 
If again she shew them light, 
'Tis like morning after night ! 
And 'tis worthy well beholding 
Vith ho,v many a pretty folding, 
Her sweet Eyelids grace that Fait, 



I-G- Wither. 
392 

Meanly fringed with beaming hair, 
Whereby, neatly overspread, 
Those bright lamps are shadowèd. 
'Twixt the eyes, no hollow place, 
XVrinkle, nor undecent space 
Disproportions Her in ought ; 
Though by Envy, faults were sought ! 
On those Eyebrows never yet, 
Did disdainful scowling sit. 
Love and Goodness gotten thither, 
Sit, on equal thrones together; 
And do throw just scorn on them, 
That their Government contemn. 
Then, almost obscured, appears 
Those her jewel-gracing Ears ! 
XVhose own beauties more adorn, 
Than the richest pearl that's worn 
By the proudest Persian dames, 
Or the best that Nature frames. 
There, the voice, in love's meanders, 
Through their pretty circlings, wanders ! 
Whose rare turnings will adroit 
No rude speech to enter it. 
Stretching from Mount Forehead lies 
Beauty's Cape, betwixt ber eyes: 
Which two crystal-passing lakes, 
Love's delightful Isthmus makes ! 
Neither more nor less extending 
Than most meriteth commending. 
Those in whom that part hath been 
Best deserving praises seen ; 
Or, surveyed without affection, 
Came the nearest to perfection ; 
\Vould scarce handsome ones appear 
If with Her, compared they were : 
For it iz so much excelling, 
That it passeth means of telling [ 
On the either side of this, 
Love's most lovely Prospect is [ 
Those, her smiling Cheeks, whose colour 
Comprehends True Beauty fuller 



Than the curious'st mixtures can, 
That are made by Art of man. 
It is Beauty's Garden-knot, 
,Vhere, as in a true-love-knot, 
So, the snowy Lily grows, 
Mixèd with the crimson Rose. 
That as friends they joinèd be. 
Yet they seem to disagree, 
,Vhether of the two shall reign ? 
And the lilies oft obtain 
Greatest sway, unless a blush 
Help the roses at a push. 
Hollow fallings none there are ! 
There's no wrinkle! there's no scar l 
Only there's a little Mole, 
,Vhich from VENtTS' cheek was stole. 
If it were a thing in Nature 
Possible, that any creature 
Might decaying life repair, 
Only by the help of air; 
There were no such salve for death, 
As the balm of her sweet Breath ! 
Or, if any human poxver 
Might detain the soul an hour 
From the flesh, to dust bequeathing, 
It would linger on her breathing ! 
And be half in mind, that there 
More than mortal pleasures were. 
And whose fortune were so fair 
As to draw so sweet an air, 
Would, no doubt, let slighted be 
The perfumes of Araby. 
For the English Eglantine 
Doth, through envy of Her, pine. 
Violets and Roses too 
Fear that She will them undo: 
And it seems that in her Breast 
Is composed the Phoenix's nest. 
But, descend a while, mine eye ! 
See, if polished ivory, 
Or the finest fleecèd flocks, 



394 

.FA IR VIR TUE, 

Or the whitest Albion rocks, 
For comparisons may stand, 
To express that snowy Hand! 
,Vhen She draws it from ber glove 
It bath virtue to remove, 
Or disperse, if there be ought 
Cloudeth the beholder's thought. 
If that palm but toucheth yours, 
You shall feel a secret power 
Cheer your heart, and glad it more[ 
Though it drooped with grief before. 
Through the Veins disposèd true 
Crimson, yields a sapphire hue, 
\Vhich adds grace and more delight 
]3y embracing with the white. 
Smooth, and moist, and sort, and tendcr 
Are her Palms [ the Fingers, slender, 
Tipt with mollifièd pearl[ 
And if that transformèd girl, 
\Vhose much cunning made ber date 
\Vith JovE's daughter to compare, 
Had that hand worn, maugre spite, 
She had shamed the goddess quite [ 
For, there, is, in every part, 
Nature perfecter than Art. 
These were joinèd to those Arms, 
Tbat were never made for harms[ 
But possess the sweetest graces 
That may apt them for embraces. 
Like the silver streams they be, 
Which, from some high hill, we sec 
Clipping-in a goodly vale, 
That grows proud of such a thrall. 
Neither alabaster rocks, 
Pearl-strewed shores, nor Cotswold flocks, 
Nor the mountains tipt with snow, 
Nor the milk-white swans of Po, 
Can appear so fair to me, 
As ber spotless Shoulders be[ 
They are like some work of state, 
Covered with the richest plate, 



G. Wither.-] 
 ,6,..a 3[zsz'xss OF P:ZZ'.4 T. 395 

And a presence have that strike 
With devotions, goddess-like. 
'Tvixt those shoulders, meanly spread 
To support that globe-like head, 
Riseth up her Neck ! wherein 
Beauty seemeth to begin 
To disclose itself in more 
Tempting manner than before. 
Hov therein she doth excel, 
Though I would, I cannot tell! 
For I nought on earth espy 
That I may express it by. 
There, should lovers (as in duty) 
Hang rich Trophies up to Beauty ! 
'Tis proportioned to a height 
That is even with Delight. 
Yet is a great deal higher 
Than to answer base Desire. 
\Vhere the neck hath end, begins 
That smooth path, vhere Lovv.'s close gins 
Are thick placèd, to enthrall 
Such as, that vay straggle shall. 
There, a pleasing passage lies 
Far beyond the sight of eyes ; 
And much more delight contains 
Than the old Elizian fields. 
Whatsoever others say 
There's alone the Milky Way ! 
That to Beautv's Walks doth go ; 
Which, if others came to know, 
In possessing their delight, 
They should never reach the height 
Of the pleasures, which I share : 
\Vhilst that those debarrèd are. 
Yet unspoken of, there rests 
Her two twin-like lovely Breasts ! 
Whose round-rising, pretty panting 
I would tell, but Art is vanting ! 
\Vords can never vell declare 
Her fair sweet perfections there ; 
For, vould Measures give me leave 



I-G. Wither. 
396 FAV Vu, Hï .  . 

To express what I conceive, 
I do know I should go near 
Hall to ravish all that hear. 
And but that I learn to sea»on 
What I apprehend with Reason, 
It had ruade my Passions' weight 
Sink me, through my own conceit. 
There, I find so large a measure 
Of an unexpressed pleasure, 
That my heart, through strong surmise, 
In a pleasing fainting lies. 
He that there may rest to prove 
Softer finds those beds of love, 
That the cotton ripest grown ; 
Or fine pillows of such down 
As, in time of moulting, fans 
From the breasts of silver swans. 
Those two sisters are a pair, 
Smooth alike, like soft, like fair, 
If together they be viewed : 
Yet if they apart be shewed ; 
That you touch or see, seems smoother» 
Softer, fairer than the other. 
That the colour may delight ; 
So much red as makes the white 
Purer seem, is shed among: 
And then, here and there, alon 
Runs a sapphire-mine, whose blue 
Shadowed, makes so brave a show 
On those lily mounts, as though 
]3eauty's simples there did grow. 
In the vale, 'twixt either hill, 
Lies Desire in ambush still, 
And surpriseth every eye 
Which doth that way dare to pry. 
There is, sure, the twi-top hill, 
XVhere the Poets learn their skill ! 
That's Parnassus, where the Muses 
Chaste, and wise V[INERVA uses ! 
Her two Cherrilets are those 
Whence the pleasant'st nectar flows 



And no fruits e'er equalled these, 
Fetched fromthe Hesperides. 
Once, as CYNTHIA'S games she chased, 
And, for air, left half unlaced 
Her light summer robe of green 
(Beauty's safe, but slender screen I) 
Unawares, I partly spied, 
That fair lily-field unhid 
Which you may her Belly naine! 
Yet, nor She, nor I to blame. 
For it was, but what mine eye 
Might behold with modesty. 
'Tis a fair and matchless plain 
Where unknown delights remain ! 
'Tis the store-house wherein Pleasure 
Hides the richest of her treasure ! 
Which, True Modesty, in ward, 
Keeps, with a continual guard 
Of such Virtues, as she's sure, 
bIo corruption can allure. 
There, they say, (for, mind it well ! 
I do this, by hearsay tell) 
Grows her Navel, which doth seem 
Like some jewel of esteem : 
With so vondrous cunning wrought 
That an injury, 'tis thought, 
Such a beauty, vith the rest, 
Should (unknown) be unexprest. 
Somewhat else there is, that's hidden 
Which to name I am forbidden ; 
Neither have I ever pried 
After that should be unspied. 
iNever shall my maiden Muse 
So herself, and me abuse 
As to sing what I may fear 
\Vill offend the choicest ear! 
Though I knov, if none be by, 
But true friends to modesty ; 
I might name each part at will, 
And yet no man's thought be ill. 
Yet, for fear loose hearers may 



-G. Wither. 
398 /'. «v V«v T U  , T I] .E I  6a. 

Judge amiss, if more I say; 
I descend, to shun ail blame, 
"fo the Pillars of the Frame. 
Vhere though I ne'er aimed so high 
As her dainty youthful Thigh ; 
Whose rare softness, smoothness, fulness 
t3eing known, would teach my dulness 
Such a Strain as might befit 
Some brave Tuscan Poet's wit. 
Once a saucy bush, I spied 
Pluck her silken skirts aside, 
So discovered unto me 
Ail those beauties to the Knee: 
And before the thorns' entanglings 
Had let go the silver spanglings, 
I perceive the curious knitting 
Of those joints was well befiting 
Such a noble piece of work : 
'Mongst whose turnings seem to lurk 
Much to entertain the sight 
With new objects of delight. 
Then the Leg, for shape as rare 
Will adroit of no compare! 
Straight it is ; the Ankle lean ! 
Full the Calf, but in the mean! 
And the slender Foot doth fit 
50, each way, to suit vith it ; 
As She nothing less excels 
Therein, than in ail things else. 
Yea, from head to foot, her feature 
Shews ber an Unblemished Creature, 
In whom, Love with Reason might 
Find so matchless a Delight, 
That more cannot be acquired ; 
Nora greater bliss desired. 

Yet, if you will rest an hour 
Under yonder shady bower ! 
I, anon, my Muse vill raise 
To a higher pitch of praise ! 
But a while with raspice-berries, 



Strawberries, ripe pears, and cherries, 
(Such as these our groves do bear) 
We will cool our palates there. 
And, those homely cates among 
Noxv and then, a Pastoral Son, 
Shall my lad, here, sing and play ! 
;uch as you had yesterday. 

LAD, whose faith will constant lrove, 
A nd never know an end ; 
Late, by an ovcrsight in love, 
Dislbleased his dcarest Friend : 
For which incensed, she did retake 
The favours which hc wore ; 
A nd said, "He tcver, for hcr sake, 
Should wcar, or sec them more ! '" 

The grief whereof, how near if went, 
A nd how unkindly took, 
lVas figured by the discontcnt 
Atlbcaring in his look. 
A t first, he could hot silence brcal, 
So heavy sorrow la), ; 
But when his sighs gavc way to seak, 
Thus, sadly, did he say. 

My only Dear !" and with that slcech , 
Not able fo sustain 
Thc floods of grief af sorrow's brcach, 
He 13aused awhile again. 
t Icngth, nigh fainting, did exibress 
These words, with much ado, 
0 Dear ! Let hot my love's exccss, 
Me, and my love undo !" 



I-G. Wither. 

She, little movèd with his pai», 
His much distraction eyed ; 
And changing love into disdain, 
Thus, still unkind, replied. 
' Forbear fo urge one kindness more 
Unless you long fo see 
The good respect you had before, 
A t once, all lost in me ! " 

With that dismayed, his suit he ceased, 
A,nd down his head he hung ; 
And as his Reason's stre»gth decreased, 
His Passio» grew more strong. 
But seebg she did slight his moan ; 
lVith willow garlands wreathed, 
He sate him down, and all alone, 
This sad complaint le breathed. 

' 0 Heavens .t ', quoth he, " lVhy do we s, bcnd 
Endeavours thus in vain ? 
Since what the Fates do fore-U»tend 
They ncver change again. 
Nor Faith, nor Love, nor t,'ue Desert, 
Nor all that »an can do, 
Can win him place within ber heart» 
That is hot born theweto .t ,, 

" Vhy do Ifondly waste my youth 
In secret sighs and tcars ? 
IVhy to preserve a sIotless truth, 
Taste I, so many cares? 
For women that no worth respect, 
Do so ungentle prove ; 
That some shall win by their neglcct, 
What others lose with love." 



13. Wiher.-] /rlS T' E S.9 0 F A D //'I£'A 
. o.j R E TE. 4 0I 

" Those that bave set the best af naught, 
And no man could cnjoy ; 
A t last, by some base gull are cat6ght, 
And gottcn with a toi'. 
Yea, thcy that spcnd an Agc's light, 
Thcir fivours fo obtain ; 
For ont mtwilling ovcrsight, 
May lose the» all again t. ,, 

.LNG. GAR. IV. 

" Howghtd, andfidn, Mas, woul,t I, 
For her, have mt,tcrwcnt 
Thc grcatcst carc, cre shc should lry 
The smallcst discontcnt ? 
Yct Shc, that may my life command, 
And doth those Passions know ! 
Dcniclh me a poor dcmand, 
In hcight of all my woc." 

" O, if lhe Noblcst of hcr time, 
And best bclovcd of me ; 
Could for so poor, so sligh a crime 
So void of iity bc .t 
Sure, had it been some common one, 
lVhose patience I had tricd ; 
No wondcr I had becn undonc, 
Or moEorgiven., dicd t. ,, 

"A lhousand lires I would havc laid ! 
(So well I once bclicvcd) 
She would bave dcigncd to lcnd me aid 
If she had sccn. me gricvcd. 
But now, I lire to sce lhc d«y, 
lVhen I iresumd so, 
I neiher dare for pity lbray, 
Nor tcll hcr of my woe ! " 
26 



I-G- Wiher. 
402 .F.a x  V x  T " ï , z"   t. : 6. 

" Yet, let hot, I>oor desI>ised hcart ! 
Hcr worth ought questioncd le .t 
Hadst thou hot faild in descrt 
She had hot faild thee ! 
But lest, [erha[s, they flout thy moan, 
That should eslce» lhee dcar ; 
(30, make il by thyself alone, 
ll'hcre none may corne fo hcar ! 

"Slill kccp thy forehcad crowncd wilh smilcs ! 
IVhat Passion c'er thou t O, ; 
That -nonc may laugh at thee, thc whiles 
Thou discontented lic  
A nd let no wrong, by change distain 
A love so trulyfair; 
But rather, ncvcr hoe again  
 nd thou shalt ne'er dcsair I " 

II. 

'l'ErlmZD by crud Passions that ol]»'ess me, 
llïth hear ,igh broken, Time, no hofie would give me ; 
U[o,= my b«d: I laid me 
And gentle Slcc[, I woob to rclievc me. 
But O, alasl l#und that, on thc morrow, 
My sZcc[ing oys brought forth ȍ, waking Sorrow. 

For, lo, a dream I had, so fMI of tbleasure, 
That fo posscss, what to embrace I scemcd, 
Could hot effcct my joy in higher mcasure, 
Than now it gricvcs me, that I havc but dreamed. 
0 let my dreams bc Szhs and Tcars hcrcaflcr .t 
So I (that slecl>ing , wccl> ) may wake i; laughtcr. 



,G. Wither.--]? x622._1 f][ZST"ISS 0" t]]]Z'.4E TE. 4o 3 

Fain would I tcll how much that Shadow lhlcascd roc, 
But tonguc and #cn want words, and art in tclliitg ; 
l'et this l'll sa),, fo shcw what horror scizcd me 
(lI'hcn I was robbed of bliss, so much cxcclling), 
Might all my drcams bc such ; 0, lct roc ncvcr 
A wake again ! but slccj , and drcam for evcr ! 

Foi" when I waking, saw myself deccivbd, 
A nd what an inward hcll it had #rocurbd : 
To find myself of ail my holcs bcrcavbd 
It brought ou Passions hot to be endurèd. 
A nd, kncw I, ncxt night had such dreams in kccthhtg ; 
I'd makc my eyes foreswcar, for cvcr, slccliug ! 

III. 

Ou woody Hills .t 3,ol  Dalcs ! you Groves ! 
] "ou Floods ! and evely S15ring ! 
Yott crcalures corne, whom nothing moves, 
A nd hcar a Shephcrd sing ! 
For to Heros, Xmfihs, and Swains, 
I, long, have madc my momt ; 
Yct what ny monroEul Versc contains 
Is understood of none. 

lit SOll.g, A POLLO gave roc skill ; 
Their love, his Sistcrs dcign, : 
With those that haltnt Parnassus' hill, 
I fricndshilh entcrtain. 
]'et this is all in vain to me, 
So haplcssly I fare ! 
As those things which my glory be, 
My ca,se of ruin arc. 



FG- Withero 
404 

For Love hath kindled in .my brcast, 
His ncvcr qucnchèd .tire : 
And I ! who oftc» ha','e ex,hrcst 
lVhat othcr men dcsire, 
(Bccause I could so dire into 
The dcpth of othcrs" .moan) ; 
Now, I, my own a.f/tictions shcw, 
I hccdcd ara of none ! 

Off bave thc Nymlhhs of greafest worth, 
Madc suit, my Songs fo hcar ; 
As off (whcn I bave sighd forth, 
Such notes as saddest werc) : 
"A las," said tho', "#oor gcntle hcart  
lVhoe'cr that Shcphcrd be  " 
ut none of thcm suspects my smart, 
Nor thinks, if mcancth Mc  

lVhen I bave rcachcd so high a Strah 
Of Passion in my Song, 
That hcy bave sccn the tears to rait 
A nd trill, my chcek along; 
Instcad of s(gh, or weeping cye 
To sympathise with Me ! 
" 0 wcre ho once in love !" thcy cry, 
"How movhtg would he be ?" 

0 pity me, you Powers abovc ! 
.d nd takc my skill away ! 
Or let my hcarcrs tMnk I love 
And feign hot what I say ! 
For if I could disclose the snare 
Which I, ,tnknown, do bear ; 
Each line would make them sighs imart, 
And cvcy word, a tear. 



G. Wither.'] x6..] 1"I S T ' E S S OF .t911I L'A 1dE T Io 405 

ttad I a Mis:ress, somc do hink 
Shc should rcvcalèd be ; 
And I would favours wcar, or drink 
Hcr heallh, u[on, my knee. 
Alas, poor fools ! the.), aire awry 
Thcir fancy flags too low .t 
Çould thcy, my lovc's rare course 
Thcy would amazèd grow. 

But let nor Nymlbh, nor Swain co.ccive 
My tongue shall cvcr tcll 
Il'ho, of this rcst doth me bcrcave ; 
Or where I ara .hot well. 
But .if you, sçhing Inc espy 
ll'hcrc rarcst featm'es be ; 
Mark whcrc I .¢ïx a wccping esc , 
And swear.),ou .t ,, Thcre is She !" 

Yct, cre, my eycs betray me shall, 
I'll swcll, and burst with pain ! 
A nd for cach drop th O, would let fall, 
My heart shall blced me twain ! 
t7or since my soul more sm'row bears 
Than common loyers know ; 
I scorn my Passions should, like theirs, 
A cootmot humour shew. 

Ear never hcard of, hcretofore, 
Of any love like mine ; 
Nor shall there bc, for cvermore, 
Affection so divine .t 
A nd that fo fain it, none may h'y, 
lI'hen. I dissolved must be ; 
Thc first I ara, it hYèd by ! 
A nd die it shall, with »te ! 



[Fair Irzxrve's sweet Graces.] 

OY! ha'done! Fornowmybraia 
Is inspirèd fresh again ; 
And new raptures pressing are, 
To be sung in praise of Her, 
\Vhose fair Picture lieth nigh, 
Quite unveiled to every eye. 
No small favour hath it been, 
That such Beauty might be seen ; 
Therefore, ever may they rue it, 
\Vho, with evil eyes shall view it ! 
Yea, what ancient stories tell 
Once to rude ACTEON fell 
(\Vhen, with evil thoughts, he stooà 
Eying CYNTHI.. in the flood) ; 
May that fatal hornèd curse 
Lig.ht upon them, or a worse ! 
But, whatever others be, 
Lest some fault be round in me, 
If imperfect this remain ; 
I will over-trim't again ! 
Therefore, turn where we begun ! 

And, now ail is overrun. 
Mark, if everything exprest 
Suit hot so unto the rest, 
As if Nature would prefer 
All perfections unto her! 
Wherefore seems it strange to any 
That they daily see so many, 



407 

\Vho xvere, else, most perfect creatures, 
In some one part, want true features ; 
Since from ail the fair'st that livej 
Nature took the best, to give 
Her, perfection in each part ? 
I, alone except her heart ; 
For, among ail \Vomankind, 
Such as hers is hard to find [ 
If you truly note her Face, 
You shall find it hath a grace, 
Neither wanton, nor o'er serious, 
Nor too yielding, nor imperious ; 
But, with such a feature blest, 
It is that which pleaseth best, 
And delights each several eye 
That affects with modesty. 
Lowliness hath, in her look, 
Equal place with Greatness took: 
And if Beauty, anyxvhere, 
Claires prerogatives, 'tis there ! 
For, at once, thus much 'twill do ; 
Threat ! command ! persuade ! and woo ! 
In her Speech, there is hot found 
Any harsh, unpleasing sound; 
But a well beseeming power, 
Neither higher, neither loxver, 
Than will suit with her perfection. 
'Tis the Loadstone of Affection [ 
And that man, whose judging eyes, 
Could well sound such mysteries, 
\Vould in love, make her his choice, 
Though he did but hear her voice ! 
For such accents breathe not, whence 
Beauty keeps non-residence. 
Never word of hers I hear, 
But 'tis music to mine ear, 
And much more contCtment brings 
Than the sxveetly-touchèd strings 
Of the pleasing Lute, whose strains 
Ravish hearers, when it 'plains. 
Raised by her Discourse, I fly 



4o8 

F! IR I/'IR 7"U, TII 

In contented thoughts so high 
That I pass the common measures 
Of the dullèd senses' pleasures ; 
And lcave far below my sight 
Vulxar pitches of delight. 
If She stalle, and merry be ; 
Ail about her are as She ! 
For each looker on takes part 
Of the joy that's in her heart. 
If She grieve, or you but spy 
Sadness peeping through her eye ; 
Such a grace it seems to borrow 
That you'll fall in love with Sorrow ; 
And abhor the naine of Mirth, 
As the hateful'st thing on earth. 
Should I see her shed a tear, 
My poor eyes would melt, I fear: 
For much more in Hers appears, 
Than in other women's tears; 
And her look did never feign 
Sorrow, vhere there was no pain. 
Seldom hath She been espied, 
So impatient as to chide ! 
For if any see her so, 
They'll in love with Anger grow. 
Sigh, or speak, or smile, or talk, 
Sing, or weep, or sit, or walk ; 
Every thing that She doth do, 
Decent is, and lovely too. 
Each part that you shall behold 
Hath within itself enrolled 
\Vhat you could desire to see, 
Or your heart conceive to be : 
Yet, if from that part, your eye 
Moving, shall another spy, 
There, 3-ou see as much or more 
Than you thought to praise belote. 
While the eye surveys it! 3"ou 
X.Vill imagine that her Broxv 
Hath all beauty: when ber Cheek 
You behold ! it is as like 



To be deemèd fairest too ; 
So much there, can Beauty do. 
Look but thence, upon her Eye !- 
And you wonder, by-and-by, 
How there may be anywhere, 
So much worthy praise as there. 
Yet, if )'ou survev her Breast, 
ïhen, as freely, you'll protest 
That in them, perfection is! 
Though, I know, that one poor kiss 
From her tempting Lips, would then 
Make all that, foresworn again ! 
For the selfsame moving grace 
Is, at once, in every place. 
She, her beauty never foils 
\Vith your ointments, waters, oils 
Nor no loathsome figcns settles, 
Mixed with Jewish fasting spetles 
Fait bv Nature being born, 
She dth, borrowed beauty scorn 
\Vhoso kisses her, needs fear 
No unwholesome varnish there. 
For from thence, he only sips 
The pure nectar of her lips, 
And, at once, with these he closes, 
Melting rubies, cherries, roses. 
Then, in her Behaviour, She 
Striveth but Herself to be : 
Keeping such a decent state, 
As, indeed, she seems to hate 
Precious leisure should be spent 
In abusèd compliment. 
Though she knows what others do, 
(And can ail their Courtship too) 
She is not in so ill case, 
As to need their borrowed grace. 
Her Discourses sweetened are, 
Vith a kind of artless care 
That expresseth greater Art, 
Than affected words impart. 
So, ber Gestures (being none 



But that freeness, which alone 
Suits the braveness of her mind) 
Make her, of herself, to find 
Postures nore becoming far 
Than the mere acquirèd are. 
If 3"ou mark, when, for ber pleasure, 
She vouchsafes to foot a measure. 
Though, with others' skill, She pace ; 
There's a sweet d.elightful grace 
In herself, which doth prefer 
Art beyond that Art, in her. 
Neither needs She beat her wit 
To devise what dressings fit ! 
Her complexion, and ber feature 
So beholding are to Nature, 
If She, in the fashions go, 
AIl the reason She doth so, 
Is, because She would hot err 
In appearing singular ; 
Doubtless, hot for any thought, 
That 'twill perfect ber in ought. 
lIany a dainty-seeming Dame 
Is, in native beauties lame. 
borne are gracèd by their rires, 
As their quoifs, their hats, their wires. 
One, a ruff doth best become ; 
Falling-bands much altereth some. 
And their favours, oft, we see 
Changèd as their dressings be. 
Which ber beauty never fears, 
For it graceth all She wears. 
If ye note her tire to-day ; 
" That doth suit her best ! " you'll sav. 
Mark, what She, next morn, doth wear! 
" That becomes ber best ! " you'll swear. 
Yea, as oft as Her 3"ou see, 
;uch new graces still there be. 
As She ever seemeth graced 
Most by that she weareth last ; 
Though it be the same ;he wore 
But the vey day belote. 



When she takes her tires about her, 
(Never half so rich without her I) 
At the putting on of them, 
You may liken every gem 
To those lamps, which, at a Play, 
Are set up to light the day : 
For their lustre adds no more 
To what TITAN gave before ; 
Neither doth their prett): gleamings 
Hinder ought, his greater beamings. 
And yet (which is strange to me) 
\Vhen those costly deckings be 
Laid away; there seems descried 
13eauties, vhich those veils did hide; 
And She looks, as doth the Moon, 
Past some cloud, through vhich she shone : 
Or some jewel \Vatch, whose case, 
Set with diamonds, seems to grace 
\Vhat.it doth contain vithin, 
Till tbe curious work be seen ; 
Then, 'ris round, that costly Shrining 
Did but hinder t'others' shining. 
If you chance to be in place 
Where her Mantle, She doth grace ; 
You would presently protest 
" Irish dressings were the best !" 
If again, She la 3" it down, 
While you view ber in a Gown, 
And hov those ber dainty limbs 
That close-bodied garment trims: 
You vould swear, and swear again, 
" She appeared loveliest then! " 
But if She, so truly fail', 
Should untie ber shining hair 
And, at length, that treasure shed; 
JovE's endurèd Ga'tIeIE, 
Neither C','THERA's joy, 
Nor the sweet self-loving Boy 
Who in beauty did surpass, 
Nor the fair'st that ever vas, 
Could, to take your prisoner, bring" 



-412 

Looks so sweetly conquering. 
She excels her, whom APOLLO 
Once, with weeping eyes, did follow ; 
Or that Nymph, who, shut in towers, 
Was begui!ed with golden showers ; 
Yea, and she, whose Love was wont 
To swim o'er the Hellespont 
For ber sake (though in attire 
Fittest to enflame desire) 
Seemed not half so fair to be 
Nor so lovely as is She. 
For the man, xvhose happy eye 
Views her in full majesty, 
Knows She hath a power that moves 
More than doth the Queen of Loves, 
\Vhen she useth all her power 
To inflame her paramour. 

And, sometimes, I do admire 
Ail men burn not with Desire ! 
Nay, I muse her Servants are hot 
Pleading love : but O, they dare hot ! 
And I, therefore, wonder why 
They do not grow sick, and die. 
Sure, they would do so, but that, 
By the Ordinance of Fate, 
There is some concealèd thing 
So each gazer limiting, 
He tan see no more of merit 
Than beseems his worth and spirit. 
For, in ber, a Grace there shines 
That o'erdaring thoughts confines, 
 Iaking worthless men despair 
To be loved of one so fait. 
Yea, the Destinies agree 
Some good judgements blind should be: 
And hot gain the power of knowing 
Those rare beauties, in ber growing. 
Reason doth as much imply, 
For, if every judging eye 
XVhich beholdeth ber, should there 



-"Wither'-I 27[ I .-ç T R , S S 0 F I -) 1I I L'.4 ] £T J 413, 

Find xvhat excellences are; 
Ail, o'ercome by those perfections, 
"Would be captive to affections. 
So (in happiness, unblest) 
She, for loyers, should not rest. 
This, well heeding, think upon ! 
And, if there be any one 
\Vho alloweth not the xvorth 
Which my Mase hath painted forth ; 
Hold it no defect in Her! 
But that he's ordained to err. 
Or if any female wight 
;hould detract from this I write ; 
She, I yield, may shew her xvit, 
But disparage Her no whit : 
For, on earth fexv women be, 
That from envy's touch are free; 
And whoever, Envy, knexv, 
Yield those honours that were due ? 

Though, sometimes, my Song I ra;se 
q'o unusèd heights of praise, 
And break forth, as I shall please, 
Into strange hyperboles, 
'Tis to shew, Conceit hath round 
\Vorth beyond Expression's bound. 
Though her Breath I do compare 
To the sweet'st perfumes that are ; 
Or her Eyes, that are so bright, 
To the morning's cheerful light : 
Yet I do it not so much 
q'o infer that she is such, 
As to shew that, being blest 
\Vith what merits naine of Best, 
he appears more fait to me, 
Than all creatures else that be. 
Her true beauty leaves behind 
Apprehensions in my mind, 
Of more sweetness than all Art 
Or Inventions can impart : 
Thoughts too deep to be expressed,, 



And too strong to be suppressed. 
\\'hich, oft, raiseth my conceits 
"Fo so unbelievèd heights 
That, I fear. some shallow brain 
Thinks my Muses do but feign. 
Sure, he vrongs them, if he do ! 
For, could I have reachèd to 
So like Strains, as these vou see; 
Had there been no such as She? 
Is it possible that I 
\Vbo scarce heard of Poesy 
• Should a mere Idca raise 
To as true a pitch of praise, 
As tbe learned Poets could, 
(Now, or in the times of oid) 
AIl those real Beauties bring, 
Honoured by tbe Sonneting ? 
Havinv, Arts, and favours too, 
More t' encourage what tbey do ? 
No ! If I had never seen 
Such a ]3eauty, I had been 
Piping in the country shades 
To the homelv dairy maids, 
For a country: fidler's fees, 
• ' Clouted cream, and bread and cheese. 
I, no skill in Numbers had, 
More than every Shepherd's Lad, 
Till She taught me Strains that were 
Pieasing to her gentle ear. 
Her fait splendour and her worth 
From obscureness, drew me forth 
.And because I had no Muse, 
She herself deigned to infuse 
AIl the skiil by which I climb 
To tbese praises in my rhyme. 
\Vhich if she had pleased to add 
To that, Art, sxveet DITOI had 
Or that happy Swain, that shall 
Sing Britannia's Pastoral ; 
O1" to theirs, whose verse set forth 
IOSALYI'D'$ and STELLA' worth; 



13. Wither.-] .l1"I S T ]t E S S 0 1 ? P 1"[ I L'.'t .lt' .E T,E 
 6_-.. - 4  5 

They had doubled all thcir skill 
Gainèd on AVOLLO'S hili : 
And as much more set Her forth, 
As I'm short of them in vorth: 
They had, unto heights aspired, 
Might bave justly been admii'ed, 
And, in such brave Strains had moved, 
As, of ail, had been approved. 
I must praise Her, as I may! 
\Vhich I do, mine own rude vay, 
Sometimes setting forth her glories 
13y unheard-of allegories. 

Think not, though, my Mitse now sings 
Mere absurd or feignèd things ! 
If to gold, I like ber hair ; 
Or fo stars, her eyes so fair: 
Though I praise her skin bv snow; 
Or, by pearls, her double-rov ; 
'Tis that you might gather thence 
Her unmatchèd excellence. 
Eyes as fair (for eyes) bath She 
As stars fair, for Stars may be. 
And each part as fair doth show 
In its kind, as white in Snov. 
'Tis no grace to ber, ai all ; 
If ber hair, I, Sunbeams call. 
For, were there power in Art, 
5o to portrait evel T part, 
Ail men might those beauties sce 
As they do appear to me : 
I would scorn to make compare 
\Vith the glorious'st things that are, 
Nought I e'er s/v, fair enov 
But the Hair, the hair to shoxv : 
Yet some think him over bold 
That compares it but to gold. 
He, from Reason seems to err, 
\Vho, commending of his Dear, 
Gives her lips, the rubies' hue ; 
Or by pearls, her teeth doth shew-. 



-G. Wither. 
46 FA V ru, 'H L) 

But what pearls, what rubies can 
Seem so lovely fair to man, 
As ber lips, whom he doth love, 
\Vhen in sweet discourse they more ? 
Or her lovelier teeth, the while 
She doth bless him with a smile ? 
Stars, indeed, fait creatures be[ 
Yet, amongst us, where is he 
Joys hot more, the while he lies 
8unning in his mistress' eyes, 
Than in ail the glimmering light 
Of a starry winter's night ? 
Him, to flatter, most suppose, 
That prefers belote the rose, 
Or the lilies while they grow, 
Or the flakes of new-fall'n SHOW, 
Her complexion, whom he loveth : 
And yet this, my Muse approveth. 
For in such a beauty, meets 
Unexpressèd moving sweets, 
That, the like unto them, no man 
Ever saw but in a Woman. 
Look on moon ! on stars! or sun! 
Ail GOD's creatures overrun ! 
See, if ail of them presents 
To your mind, such sweet contents ; 
Or if you, ri'oto them tan take, 
Ought that may a beauty make, 
Shall, one hall, so pleasing prove 
As is hers, whom you do love ! 
For, indeed, if there had been 
Other mortal beauties seen, 
Objects for the love of man ; 
Vain was their Creation then ! 
Yea, if this could well be granted, 
ADAI! might, his EVE bave wanted ! 
But a Woman is the creature, 
Whose proportion with out nature 
Best agrees; and whose perfections 
Sympathise with out affections : 
And, not only find our Senses 



ç. Wither.-]. *6.J .{" I S T R E S S 0 " 1-) II" Z Z'A RE T  ° 41-, 

Pleasure in their excellences ; 
But our Reason also knows 
Sweetness in them, that outgoes 
Human wit to comprehend ! 
Much more, truly to commend! 
Note the beauty of any Eye! 
And, if ought you praise it by, 
Leave such Passion in your mind : 
Let my Reason's Eye be blind ! 
Mark if ever red or white, 
Anywhere, gave such delight, 
As when they have taken place 
In a worthy woman's face ! 
He that so much hath not noted, 
\Vill not ! or is grown besotted. 
Such as loyers are, conceive 
,Vhat impressions beauty leaves ! 
And those hearts that tire have took 
By a love-inflaming look: 
Those believe, what here I say! 
And suppose not that I stray 
In a word, by setting forth 
Any praise beyond true worth ! 
And yet, wherefore should I care 
,Vhat another's censures are ? 
Since I knov Her to be such 
As no praise can be too much. 
Ail that see Her, will agree 
In the self-same mind with me ; 
If their \Vit be worth the having 
Or their Judgement merit craving. 
And the man that kens Her not, 
Speaks, at best, he knows not what ; 
So his envy, or goodwill, 
Neither doth her good, nor ill. 
Then, fools' cavils I disdain ! 
And call back my Muse again, 
To decipher out the test, 
For I have too long digressed. 

This is She, in xvhom there meets 
£''. G.4. IV. 2  



I-G. Withr. 

Ail variety of sweets ! 
An Epitome of ail 
That on earth, xve, Fair may call. 
Nay, yet more, I dare aver. 
He that is possessed of Her, 
Shall, at once, ail pleasure find, 
That is reaped from Womankind. 
O, what man xvould further range, 
That in one, might find such change 
What dull eye, such worth can sec, 
And not svorn a loyer be ? 
Or, from xvhence xvas he, could prove 
Such a monster in his love, 
As, in thought, to use amiss 
Such unequalled worth as this? 
Pity 'twere, that such a creature 
Phoenix-like, for matchless feature, 
Should so surfer, or be blamed 
With xvhat, noxv, the Times are shamed. 
13eauty (unto me, Divine !) 
Makes my honest thoughts incline 
Unto better things than that 
\Vhich the vulgar aimeth at. 
And, I voxv ! I grieve to see 
Any fair, and false to be ; 
Or when I, sweet pleasures find 
Matched with a defilèd mind. 
But, above all others, Her 
So much doth my soul prefer, 
That to him, xvhose iii desire 
Should so nurse a lawless tire, 
As to 'tempt to that xvhich might 
Dim ber sacred virtue's light ; 
I could wish that he might die 
Ere he did it ! though 'twere I ! 
For, if She should hap to stray, 
All this beauty would away! 
_And not her alone undo, 
But kill him that praised her too ! 
But I know ber lqaker wili 
Keep ber undistainèd still ; 



G.,Wither. 762.J "/'" I ,.ç T R E S .ç 0 F jO 11 1 L' A I E T E . 419 

That ensuing Ages may 
Pattern out, by Her, the xvay 
To ail goodness. And if Fate, 
That appoints all things a date, 
I-Iear me vould ; I'd vish that She 
Might, for aye, preservèd be ! 
And that neither wasting cares, 
Neither all-consuming years, 
Might, from what She is, estrange her ! 
Or in mind or body change her ! 
For, O, why should envious Time 
lerpetrate so vile a crime 
As to waste, or wrong, or stain 
\Vhat shall ne'er be matched again ? 
Much I hope it shall hot be 
For, if love deceive me not, 
To that height of Fair she grows, 
Age, or Sickness (Beauty's foes ! ) 
Cannot so much wrong it there, 
But enough there will appear 
Ever worthy to be loved : 
And that heart shall more be moved 
(Where there is a judging eye) 
\Vith those prints it doth espy 
Of her Beauty wronged by Time, 
Than by others, in their prime. 
One advantage she hath more 
That adds grace to all before. 
It is this. Her Beauty's faine 
Hath not done her Honour shame, 
:For where Beauty we do find, 
Envy still is so unkind, 
That although their virtues are 
Such as pass their beauties far, 
Yet, on Slander's rocks they be 
Shipwrecked, offentimes, we see ; 
And are subject to the wrongs 
Of a thousand spiteful tongues : 
\¥hen the greatest fault they had 
Was, that some would make them bad ! 
And hot finding them for action, 



420 

ouxht for vengeance by detraction. 
I3t her I3eauty, sure, no tongue 
Is so villainous to xvrong! 
Never did the jealous'st car 
Any muttering rumour hear 
That might cause the least suspects 
Of indifferent defects. 
And, which somewhat stranger 
They, whose slanders few can miss 
(Thou.h set on by Evil \Vill 
And Habituated Ill) 
Nothing can of Her invent 
\Vhence to frame disparagement. 
Which, if we respect the crimes 
Of these loose injurious Times, 
Doth not only truly prove 
Great discretion in her love 
And that she hath lived upright, 
In each jealous tongue's despite : 
But it must be understood 
That her private thoughts are good. 
Yea ! 'tis an apparent si,n 
That her Beauty is Divine! 
And that angels have a care 
Men's polluting tong, ues should spare 
To defile, xvhat GOD hath given 
To be dear to Earth and Heaven 

Tell me, you that hear me now 
Is there any one of you 
\Vanteth feeling of affection ? 
Or that loves not such perfection 
Can there be so dull an ear 
As of so much worth to hear, 
And hot seriously incline 
To this saint-like friend of mine ? 
If there be, the fault doth lie 
In my artless Poesy. 
For if I could reach the Strain 
Which, methinks, I might obtain 
Or but make my Measures fly 



'G'Wither'l .t/. I S ï X E .-ç.-ç 0 .F .]'-).l'I I'.L'.l lt E T.E 
. a622.J • 

Equal vith my Fantasy : 
I would not permit an ear 
To attend unravished here ; 
If but so much sense it knev, 
As the blocks that ORPHEUS drev. 
Think on this description well ! 
And your noblest Ladies tell 
" Which of you (that worth can see), 
This my Mistress would hot be ? " 
You brave English ! who have run 
From the rising of the sun, 
Till, in travelling, )ou round 
\\'here he doth conclude lais round! 
You ! that have the beauties seen 
\Vhich, in farthest lands have been ; 
And surveyed the fait resorts 
Of the French and Spanish Courts, 
\Vith the rest that Fame renowns 
In the rich Trans-Alpine towns ; 
Do hot (with out brainless fry, 
That admire each novelty) 
\Vrong your country's fame in ought 
]3ut, here, free]y speak your thought 
And I durst presume you'll swear 
She's hot matchèd anywhere. 
Gallants ! vou that would so fain 
lX,'ymphs' and Ladies' loves obtain ! 
You that strive to serve and please 
Fairest Queens and Empresses! 
Tell me this, and tell me right ! 
If you would not, so you might, 
Leave them all, despised, to prove 
\Vhat contents are in her love ? 
Could your fathers ever tell 
Of a Nymph, did more excel ? 
Or hath any Story told 
Of the like, in rimes of o]d ? 
DID was not such a one! 
Nor the Trojans' paragon ! 
Though they, so much favour found 
As to have their honours crowned 



I-G. Wither. 
422 FA_r« V.l" Id TU.E) T I[ E I.. . 1622. 

13y the best of Poets' pens, 
Ever known before or since. 
For had DIt)o been so fait; 
Old A,XCHSES'S noble beir, 
JovE's command had disobeyed ! 
And with ber, in Carthage stayed : 
\Vhere he would have quite foreswore 
Seeing tle Lavinian shore. 
Or bad LED,'s daugbter been, 
When she was the Spartan Qucen 
Equal with this Lovely One! 
IIE,ELaVS had never gone 
From her sight so far away, 
As to leave her for a prey ; 
And lais room to be possesst 
By her wanton Phrygian guest. 

But lest yet, among you some, 
Think She may bebind these corne 
Stay a little more, and hear me [ 
In another Strain l'll rear me! 
l'll unmask a Beauty, now, 
\Vhich to kiss, the gods may bow 
And so feelingly will more, 
That your souls shall rail in love 
I have, yet, the best behind; 
Her most fair, unequalled Mind ! 
This that I have, here, exprest 
Is but that which veils the test ! 
An incomparable Shrine 
Of a Beauty more Divine ! 

\Vhereof, ere I farther speak ; 
Off again, my Song l'Il break. 
And if )'ou, among the roses, 
\Vhich yon quickset hedge incloses, 
\Vill, with plucking flowers, beguile 
Tedious-seeming Time avhile ; 
Till I step to yonder green, 
\Vhence the sheep so plain are seen, 
I will be returnèd ere 



1"IS TRIFSS OF 

You, an heur have stayèd there ! 
And, excuse me now, I prayl 
Though I rudely go avay ! 
For affairs I bave to do, 
Which unless I look into; 
I may sing out Summer herc[ 
Like the idle grasshopper: 
And at \Vinter, hide my head ! 
Or else fast, till I am dead ! 
Yet if rustic Pastoral Measures 
Can ought add unto your pleasures 
I will leave you some of those, 
\Vhich it pleased me to compose 
\Vhen despairing fits were over, 
And I, made a happy loyer, 
Exercised my Loving Passion 
In another kind of fashion ; 
Than to utter, I devised, 
\Vhen I feared to be despised. 
Those shall lie in gage for me, 
Till I back returnèd be. 
And in vriting, here, you have them! 
Either sing ! or read [ or leave them 

4-"3 

SONNE T I. 

DMIRE tot, Shephcrd's Boy ! 
Why I my pipe forbcar 
11I 3, Sorrows and nty 
Beyond cxrcssion are 
Thottgh others may 
In Songs display 
Their Passions, whcn they woo 
Yct, mine do 
A pitch too 
For W&ds to reach 



l-G- W[ther. 
424 fi' : I::« TC, T:: .. .62,. 

If such wcak thoughts as those 
lVhich othcrs' Fancics moves 
Or if "0' hcart did 'close 
l?,ut common Strains of Love 
Or Passions' store 
Learncd me no more 
To fecl, than othcrs do : 
I'd paint my carcs 
As black as theirs, 
And tcach my lines to woo ! 

But, O, thricc h@py ! ye 
lVhosc mcan conccit is dull ! 
You, from thosc thoughts arc free I 
Tha! stuff m.), brcast so full. 
3[.), lovc's excess 
Lets fo express 
ll'hat Songs arc usèd fo : 
A nd my delights 
Take such high flights, 
My joys will me undo. 

I havc a Love that's fah', 
Rich, wisc, and nobly born  
Shc's Truc Pcfcction's Hcir, 
Holds nought but vice in scorn. 
A hcart tofind, 
More chaste, more kind, 
Out plains afford no mo. 
Of hcr dcgree, 
No blab 1'11 be ; 
37or dottbt some Prince should woo. 

And yct, I do not fcar, 
(Though Shc, my nwanness knows) 
The willow branch fo wcar ; 
No, nor the ycllow hosc .t 



• G. Wither.q dI".I'S'I.ESS OF .[tllL'MRET£" ,t25 

For if grcat ovE 
Should suc for love, 
She would tot me forego. 
Resort I may, 
13.), «,ight or day, 
lI'hich bravcr darc hot do .' 

You Gallants, born fo lelf ! 
To lands', fo titlcs" store .t 
(I'm born but fo Mysclf, 
Nor do I carc for morc) 
A dd fo your earth  
Wcalth  honours  bidh  
A ttd ail you can, thcreto  
You cannot prove 
That hcight of love 
ll'h&h I, in ntcanncss, do  

Great mon bave hcl, bs, o gain 
Those fizvours thcy imllorc : 
lVhich, though I win with lain, 
I fin:l my joys the morc. 
Each clown may fise 
And climb the skics 
lVhcn hc hath round a stair ; 
13tri joy to 
That darcs to climb, 
Zl-nd hath to hcl], but ait" .t 

Some sa.), that "Lovc rcents 
ll'hcrc jortmzes disagrce.'" 
I kvow the hçh'st covtcnts 
From low bcgimtin,ffs be. 
My love's mtfcigned 
To Hcr that deig.ned 



From greatncss, stoop thcreto. 
She lovcs, 'cause I 
So mean, dared trv 
Hcr bcttcr worth fo woo. 

And yet although much joy, 
My fortune sccms fo blcss ; 
'Tis mixt wilh more amtoy 
That I ,hall c'er express. 
For, with much pain 
Did I obtain 
The Gcm l'll nc'cr forcgo 
ll'h&h yct I date 
Nor shcw, -nor wcar  
And that brccds all my woe. 
But fie  my foolish tonguc 
How loscly now it gocs  
First, let n O, hncll be rttng 
re I do more disclosc  
Mourir thoughts on hçh 
Cease words  For why 
My meaning fo divine ; 
To those I lcave, 
That can conccive 
So brave a Love as mine. 

And, now, no more l'll sing 
A mong my fcllow swains; 
Nor grovcs, nor hills shall ring 
ll'ith cchoes of my plaius. 
My Mcasurcs bc 
Confused, you sec  
A ud will hot suit thcreto : 
'Cause I have more 
Brave thoughts in store 
Than words can zach unto. 



I'm no slave to such as you be ! 
Neither shall a snowy brcast, 
lI'anton c),c, or li[ of ruby 
Evcr rob ,»te of n O, rcst ! 
Go ! go .t Display 
Your bcauty's ray 
To somc o'crsoot» enamourcd Swa[tt 
Those common wih's 
Of sighs and smilcs 
A re ail bcstowcd on me in vain 

I bave clsewhere, vowcd a dztty; 
Turn away thy tcmpting cyes t. 
Show me hot a nakcd beanty ! 
Those im[osturcs I destffse .t 
My slirit loaths 
|I'here gandy clothcs 
And f«çned oaths may love obtain ! 
I love Her so, 
ll'hosc look swcars " No !" 
That all yonr labours will be vai» ! 



,428 

.[2AIR V I R T Lr.E » T H.E 

Can he prize thc taintcd îbosies 
lVhich oi» cvcry brcast are worn 
That may pluck the spotless roses 
From their cvcr-tochd thorn ? 
I can go rcst 
0 hcr swect brcast, 
That is the #ride of CYNTtlIA'S 
Thon hoht your longues ! 
Your Mcrntaid songs 
.lre all bcstowed on me in vain  

He's a fool, that bascly dallics, 
ll'hcre cach îbcasant mates with him ! 
Shall I hatnt thc throngCd vallcys, 
l|'hilst lhcre's noble hills to climb ? 
No, no ! Though clowns 
A re scarcd wilh frowns ; 
I know lhe best ca»» but disdaD : 
And lhosc l'll rovc ! 
So shall your love 
le all bcstowcd on me in vain .t 

Ye I would wt dcign emb»accs 
1Vith thc grcatcsI faircst Shc ; 
If anolhcr sharcd lhosc graccs 
l|'hi«h had bccn bcstowcd on me ! 
I gave thal. One 
My lovc, whcrc .onc 
Shall corne to rob me of my gain. 
Your ficklc hearts 
Make tears and Arts ! 
And all bestowed on me in vain. 

I do scorn, to vow a duO, , 
1Vhcrc each luslful lad may woo : 
Givc me Hcr, whose sun-likc bcauly, 
Buzzards date wt soar mto ! 



She ! She it is 
A ffords that bliss ! 
For which, I would refuse no bain. 
I3ut such as you ! 
Fond fools ! adieu ! 
You seck to capture me in vain ! 

Proud she eemcd, in the bcgimthtg, 
And disdaimd my looking on ; 
But that " Coy One in the winnins, 
Provcs a Truc Onc, bcing wt  " 
Whatc'cr bctide 
Shc'll ne'er divide 
The Javour She to me shall dcign ; 
ttt your fond love 
lI ïll fickle firove ! 
And ail that trust in you, ara vain 

Thcrcfore know ! lVhcn I cnjoy 
A nd for love emloy my brcath ; 
She I court, shall be a Coy One, 
Though I win her with my death 
A favottr thcrc, 
Fcw aire at, date. 
A nd if, #erhaps, some loyer plain 
Shc is hot wo 
Nor I 
By çlacing of my love in vain. 

Lcave me .t then, you Syrens ! leave me ! 
Seek no more to work my barres ! 
Crafty wilcs cannot deceive me ; 
Who ara 2broof against your charms ! 
You labour may 
To lead astray 



I-G. "Vit tter. 

430 

The hcart, that constant shall rcmafi : 
And I, the whilc, 
llïll sit and smilc, 
To sec you s])cnd your time in 

SONNET III. 
HEN IDHILOMELA, with hcr strains, 
Thc Sp'ing had wclcomcd in ; 
And FLORA fo bcstrcw thc dains, 
lVith daisics did bcgin : 
My Love and I (on whom s2tpicious cycs 
Ilad set a lhonsand spics) 
To cozett .IRGOS strovc ; 
A zd scczt of zoc, 
ll'c got alonc 
Into a shady gvove. 

On cvcry bnsh, the eglanlinc, 
ll'ith lcavcs pnfnm?d hung : 
Thc primrose ruade the he¢crows fine ; 
Thc woods, of mztsfc rtmg : 
Thc carth, lhc air, and all things did con@ira 
To rafsc contcnlmeut highcr ; 
That, had I corne to woo, 
Nor means of grace, 
Nor timc, nor place 
IVcrc wan[fitg lhcrctmto. 

IVilh hand fit hand, alone we walkcd, 
And oft cach other eycd ; 
Of Love and Passions past we talked, 
IVhich out ]).oor hcarts had lricd : 
Ottr sortis infuscd into cach othcr wcrc. 
And wha[ may be hcr cave 



Did my more sorrow brccd. 
Onc mind we bore, 
Onc jaith we swore, 
And both in onc agreed. 

Her dainty palm, I gcntly prcst, 
And with ber lips I played ; 
My check, upot hcr panting brcast, 
.1 ud on hcr ncck, I laid ; 
And yct we had no scnse of zvdnton lttst ; 
Nor did wc thon. n,istrust 
The Poison in thc Sweet. 
Out bodics wrought 
So close, wc thought, 
Becausc ottr sottls should ntcct. 

II'ith plcasant toil, we brcalhlcss grcw, 
.lnd kist in warmcr blood : 
Ulon ber lils , the hovcy dcw, 
Likc drops on roscs stood. 
A nd on thosc flowcrs, tffaycd I thc busy bec, 
lVhosc swccts, wcrc sttch to me, 
Thcm could I hot forego. 
No, hot fo fcast 
01t VENUS' bmasf, 
ll'hcnce strcams of swcctncss flo:'. 

13ut kissing and cmbracing, we 
So long togcther lay ; 
Hcr touches all inflam?.d me, 
A nd I bcgan to stray. 
3Iy hands presumcd so far, thcy wcrc foo boht ! 
My tongne ctnwisely told 
How much my hcart was changcd. 
And Virtue quite 
liras put to flight ; 
©r, for 'the rime, cstrangcd. 



432 

.FA 2rR VIR TUE, THE 

O, what arc we, if in our strcngtk ll'c ovcr boldly trust ? 
The strongcst forts will yicld af lcngth, 
And so oztr virlucs mztst. 
In Me, no force of Rcason had ?revailcd, 
If She had also fidlcd. 
But cre I furthcr straycd, 
Shc, sighing, kist 
My naked wrist : 
And thus, fit tcars, shc said. 

I-G, Wither. 

*' Swcct Heart .t " quoth she, " if h, thy brcast 
Thosc virtucs rcal bc, 
Wh&h, hithcrto, thou hast brofcst, 
And I believed in thcc ; 
T19,sel f and Me, 0 scck hot to abuse ! 
Whilst thce I thus rcfusc, 
In hotter flamcs I.fi 3, t. 
Yct lct us hot, 
Ottr true lovc, spot ! 
O, rathcr, lct me dic .t ,, 

" For  thy hcart shouldfall from good, 
IVhat would bccomc of mine ? 
As strong a Passion stirs zO' blood, 
As can distemlbcr thine .t 
Yet in my breast, this rage I smothcr wou!d, 
Though it consume me, should ; 
And »y dcsircs contain. 
For where z,e sec 
Such breachcs be, 
They seldom stop again." 



13.?Wither."[,6,a.j M I s T 2 E S S 0 F /9 a i z', R. 2-.. 433 

"A re we the two that bave so long 
Each other's loves embraced ; 
And never did Affection wrong 
Nor think a thought unchaste ? 
And shall, 0 shall we, now, our matchless ffoy 
For one poor touch dcstroy ? 
And all Content forego ? 
0 no, my Dear ! 
Sweet Heart, forbear ! 
I will hot lose thee sol" 

"For should we do a decd so base 
As it can never be, 
I could no more bave seen thy face ! 
Nor wouldst thou look on me ! 
I should, of all our Passions grow ashained ; 
And bhsh, when thou art named. 
Yea, though thou constant wert, 
I being nought, 
A jealous thought 
Would still torment my heart. 

ENa. G.d IV. 

' lVhat g(odly thing, do we obtafi 
If I consent to thee ? 
Rare joys we lose, and what we gain 
But common pleasures be. 
Yea, ' hose,' some say, ' who are fo lust inclhted, 
Drive Love out of the mind ! 
And so tttch Reason miss 
That they admire 
IVhat kind of tire 
A chaste affection is.' " 
28 



" No wdgar bliss I aimèd at, 
lVhen rirst I heard thee woo ; 
l'll never brize a Man for that 
lVhich every groom can do. 
If tha! be love, he basest men fha! be 
Do love as well as we ! 
lVho, if we bear us well, 
Do pass the» thcn, 
As Angels, men 
In glory do cxccl." 

lVhilst thns she sbake, a cruel Band 
Of Passions seized my soul ; 
And what one seem2d fo command, 
A nother did control. 
'Twixt Good and Ill, I did, divided lie. 
But as I raised mine eye, 
In her, methoght, I saw 
Those Virtues shine, 
IVhose rays divi-ne 
Firs! gave Desire, a Law. 

lVith that, I fclt the blush of shame 
Into my check rettrn. 
And Love did, with a chaster flame, 
lVithin my boso» burn. 
My Sonl, ber light of Rcason had renewed ; 
And by those beams, I viewed 
How slily Le,st cnsnares ! 
And all the rires 
Of ill Desires, 
I q«enchd with my tears. 



G. Wither.']. x6-_l 2rkI"ISTR£SS OF _]9ttIL'ARETE - 435 

Go, wantons, now, and flout at this ! 
My coldness, if you list ! 
Vain fools .t You nevcr knew the bliss 
That doIh it Love consist  
You sigh, and wecp, and labotr fo enjoy 
A Shade, a Dream, a Toy ! 
Poor Folly, you pursue  
And are unblest ; 
Since every beast, 
In #leasm, cquals you ! 

You never took so rich contcnt 
In ail yor wanton, play; 
As this to me, bath plcasure lent, 
That chaste, She went awzy. 
For as some sins, which we committed bave, 
Sharp stings behind them leave ; 
IVhereby we vexèd are : 
So, Ill sulhprest , 
Begetteth test, 
And peace witho2tt comîbare. 

But lest this conq2tcst slight you ntake, 
Which on Mysclf I won ; 
Twelve labors I will undertake 
With :ov's victorious son, 
Ere I will sgch another brunt ctdztre ! 
For had DIANA pure, 
Thts tcmçtcd bccn fo sit ; 
That Queen of Night 
(With ber chaste lzght) 
1-1ad scarce a maiden been ! 



I-G. Wither. 
436 F.4z Vz, re, a, r«   6. 

[Fait F': rue's Mind.] 

, Hmv honoured are my Songs, 
Graced by your melodious tongues ! 
And how pleasing do they seem, 
Now your voices carol them ! 
\Vere hot, yet, that task to do, 
Which my word enjoins me to ; 
I would beg ofyou, to hear 
\Vhat your own inventions are ? 
But, before I aught will crave, 
What I promised, you shall have ! 

And as I, on mortal creatures 
Called, to view her body's features ! 
Shewing how to make the Senses 
Apprehend her excellences : 
Now, I speak of no worse subject 
Than a Soul's, and Reason's object ; 
And relate a Beauty's glories 
Fitting heavenly auditories. 
Therefore, whilst I sit and sing, 
Hem me, Angels ! in a ring! 
Corne, ye Spirits ! which have eyes 
That can gaze on Deity's ! 
And unclogged with brutish senses 
Comprehend such excellences ! 
Or if any mortal ear 
Vould be granted leave to hear, 
And find profit with delight, 
In what now I shall indite ; 
Let him, first, be sure to season 
.A_ preparèd heart with Reason ! 



c..wite,.-I 3Izs Tx£ss o: P7zz'3x T 437 
 x62.J " 

And, with judgement, drawing nigh, 
Lay all fond affections by ! 
So, through ail her veilings, be 
Shall the Soul of Beauty see ! 

But, avoid ! you earth-bred wights 
Cloyed with sensual appetites ! 
On base objects, glut your eyes! 
Till your starveling pleasure dies. 
Feed your ears with such delights 
As may match your gross conceits 
For, within your muddy brain, 
These, you never can contain ! 
Think hot, you, who by the Sense, 
Only judge of excellence ! 
Or do all contentment place 
In the beauty of a face] 
That these higher thoughts of ours 
oar so base a pitch as yours ! 
I can give, as well as you, 
Outward beauties all their due! 
I can, most contentments see, 
That, in love, or women be ! 
Though I dote not on the features 
Of our dantiest female creatures, 
(Nor xvas e'er so void of shames, 
As to play their lawless games !) 
I more prize a snowy hand, 
Than the gold on Tagus strand I 
And a dainty lip before 
Ail the greatest Monarch's store ! 
Yea, from these, I reap as true, 
And as large contents as you ! 
Yet, to them I am not tied! 
I have rarer sweets espied ; 
\Vider prospects of true Pleasure, 
Than your curbèd thoughts can measure 
In her Soul, my sou| descries 
Objects that may feed her eyes ; 
And the beauty of her Mind 
Shews my Reason where to find 



4,38 

Ail my former pleasure doubled ; 
Neither with such Passion troubled 
As wherewith it oft was crost, 
Nor so easy to be lost. 
I that ravished lay, well nigb, 
13y the lustre of her eye ; 
(And had almost sworn affection 
To tbe fore-expressed perfection ; 
As if nothing had been higher, 
¥hereunto I might aspire) ; 
Now, have round, by seeking nearer, 
Inward \Vorth, that sbining clearer, 
(By a sweet and secret moving) 
Draws me to a dearer loving. 
And wbilst I, that love conceive ; 
Sucb impressions it doth leave 
In the intellective part, 
As defaceth from my heart 
Every thougbt of those delights 
Which allure base appetites : 
And my mind so much employs 
In contemptating tbose joys, 
Which a purer sight dotb find 
In tbe beauty of ber Mind ; 
Tha-t I, so tbereon ara set 
As, methinks, I could forger 
Ail her sweetest outward graces, 
Though I lay in ber embraces. 
But some thinking, with a smil.e, 
\Vhat they would bave done tbe while ; 
Nov suppose my words are such 
As exceed my power too much. 
For all tbose--our wantons hold 
Void of vigour, dull and cold ; 
Or, at best, but fools--whose flame 
Makes not way unto their shame. 
Though, at tength, with grief they see, 
They, the fools do prove to be ! 
These, tbe body so mucb minded, 
Tbat tbeir Reason, over blinded 
13y the p]easures of the Sense, 



439 

Hides from them, that Excellence, 
And that Sweetness, whose true worth 
I am here, to blazon forth ! 
'Tis n, ot, 'tis not those rare graces 
That do lurk in women's faces ; 
'Tis nota displayed perfection, 
Youthful eyes, nor clear complexion ; 
Nor a skin, smooth, satin-like; 
Nor a dainty rosy cheek ; 
That to wantonness can move 
Such as virtuously do love. 
Beauty, rather, gently draxvs 
\Vild Desires to Reason's Lavs ! 
And oft frights men from that sin, 
They had else, trangressèd in ; 
Through a sveet amazement, stroke 
From an overruling look. 
Beauty never tempteth men 
To lasciviousness ; but when 
Careless Idleness hath brought 
Wicked longings into thought. 
Nor doth Youth, or heat of blood 
Make men prove what is hOt good. 
Nor the strength, of which they vaunt, 
'Tis the strength and power they want ! 
And the baseness of the mind 
Makes their brute desires inclined 
To pursue those vain delights 
Which affect their appetites ; 
And so blinded ! do they grow, 
(\,Vho are overtaken so) 
As their dulness cannot see, 
Nor believe that better be! 
Some have blood as hot as theirs 
Whose affections loosest are ; 
I3odies that require no Art 
To supply weak Nature's part ; 
Youth, they have ; and, sure, might, too, 
I3oast of what some, shameless, do : 
Yet their minds, that aim more high 
Than those baser pleasures lie, 



Taught by Virtue, can suppress 
AIl attempts of wantonness ; 
And such powerful motives frame 
To extinguish Passions' flame, 
That, by Reason's good direction, 
Qualifying loose affection 
They'll, in midst of beauty's rires, 
Walk unscorched with iii Desires. 
Yet no such, as stupid Shame 
Keeps from actions worthy blame. 
But, in all, so truly Man ! 
That their apprehensions can 
Prize the body's utmost worth ; 
And find many pleasures forth 
In those beauties, more than you, 
That abuse them, ever knew ! 

13ut, perhaps, her outward grace, 
Here described, hath ta'en such place 
In some o'er-enamoured breast ; 
And so much his heart possest, 
As he thinks, it passeth telling, 
How she may be more excelling ! 
Or what worth I can prefer 
To he more admired in her. 
Therefore, now, I will be brief 
To prevent that misbelief ; 
And if there be present here, 
Any one whose nicer ear 
Tasks my Measures, as offending 
In too seriously commending 
What affects the Sense, or may 
Injure Virtue any way: 
Let them know, 'tis understood, 
That if they were truly good, 
It could never breed offence, 
That I shewed the excellence ; 
With the power of GOD and Nature, 
In the beauty of His creature. 
They, from thence, would rather raise 
Cause to meditate His praise : 



G. Wither.q t6aa..J MISTRESS OF .PHIL'ARE. TE " 44 

And thus think, "How fair must He, 
That hath ruade this Fair 0ne, be 
That was my proposèd end: 
And to make them more attend 
Unto this! so much excelling 
As it passeth means of telling. 
But, at worst, if any Strain 
Makes your memories retain 
Sparks of such a baneful tire 
As may kindle ill Desire: 
This, that follows after, shall, 
Not alone extinguish all; 
But e'en make you blush with shame, 
That your thoughts were so to blame 
Yet I know, when I bave done, 
In respect of that bright Sun, 
Whose inestimable light 
I would blazon to your sight ! 
These ensuing flashes are 
As to CYNxmA's beams, a star ; 
Or a petty comet's ray, 
To the glorious Eye of Day. 
For what power of Words, or A,t, 
Can ber Worth at full, impart ? 
Or what is there, may be round, 
Placed within the Sense's bound, 
That can paint those sweets to me, 
Which the Eyes of Love do ste ? 
Or the beauties of her Mind 
Which her body bath enshrined ? 
Can I think, the Guide of Heaven 
Hath so bountifully given 
Outward features, 'cause He meant 
To have ruade less excellent 
Her divine part ? or suppose 
Beauty, Goodness doth oppose 1 
Like those fools who do despair : 
To find any Good and Fair ? 
Rather, there, I seek a Mind 
Most excelling ; where I find 
GOD hath to the Body lent 



l-G. Wither 
442 :'A VI TU'E) THE L  6 

Most beseeming ornament. 
But though He that did inspire 
First, the true Promethean tire, 
In each several soul did place 
Equal excellence and grace; 
As some think: yet, have hot they 
Equal beauties, every way ! 
For they, more or less appear 
As the outward organs are ; 
Following much the temp'rature • 
Of the body, gross or pure. 
And I do believe it true 
That as we the Body view, 
Nearer to perfection grow : 
So the Soul herself doth shew 
Others, more and more excelling, 
In her Power, as in her Dwelling. 
For that pureness giveth way 
Better fo disclose each ray 
To the dull conceit of man ; 
Than a grosser substance can. 
Thus, through spotless crystal, we 
May the day's full glory see, 
When, if clearest sunbeams pass 
Through a foul polluted glass ; 
So discoloured they'll appear, 
As those stains they shone through, were. 
Let no critics cavil then, 
If I dare affirm again, 
That her Mind's perfections are 
Fairer than her Body's, far! 
And I need not prove it by 
Axioms of Philosophy ; 
Since no proof can better be 
Than their rare effect in me! 
For, while other men complaining, 
Tell their Mistress's disdaining: 
Free from care, I write a Story 
Only of her \Vorth, and Glory ! 
\Vhile most lovers pining, sit, 
Robbed of liberty and wit, 



Vassaling themselves with shame 
To some proud imperious Dame 
Or, in Songs, their fate bewailing, 
Shew the vorld, their faithless failing 
I, enxvreathed with boughs of myrtle, 
Fare like the beloved Turtle. 
Yea, while most are most untovard 
Peevish ! vain ! inconstant ! froward 
While their best contentments bring 
Nought but after sorrowing : 
She (those childish humours slighting) 
Hath conditions so delighting, 
And doth so my bliss endeavour, 
As my joy increaseth ever. 

By her actions, I can see 
That her Passions so agree 
Unto Reason, as they err, 
8eldom, to distemper ber. 
Love She can, and doth; but so 
As She vill hot overthrow 
Love's content, by any folly, 
Or by deeds that are unholy. 
Dotingly, She ne'er affects ; 
Neither villingly neglects 
Honest love : but means doth find, 
With discretion to be kind. 
'Tis hot thundering phrase, nor oaths, 
Honours, vealth, nor painted clothes, 
That can her goodliking gain ; 
If no other Worth remain. 
Never took her heart delight 
In your Court Hermaphrodite, 
Or such frothy gallants as 
For the Times, heroès pass : 
Such who, still in love, do ail, 
"Fair !" and "Sweet ! " and "Lady !" call ; 
And where'er they hap to stray, 
Either prate the rest away, 
Or, of ail discourse to seek, 
Shuffle in at Cent or Gleek. 



I-G. Wither. 
444 

Goodness more delights her, than 
All their Mask of Folly can. 
Fond, She hateth to appear; 
Though She hold her Friend as dear 
As her part of life unspent, 
Or the best of ber content. 
If the heat of youthful rires 
Warm ber blood with those desires, 
Which are, by the course of Nature, 
Stirred in every perfect creature ; 
As those Passions kindle, so 
Doth Heaven's grace, and Reason grow 
Abler to suppress in her 
Those rebellions; and they stir 
Never more affection, than 
One good thought allays again. 
I could say, so chaste is She 
As the new blown roses be ; 
Or the drifts of ShOW that none 
Ever touched, or looked upon : 
But that were not worth a fly, 
Seeing so much chastity 
Old PIGMALION'S picture had! 
Yea, those eunuchs born, or made 
Ne'er to know Desire, might say 
"She deserved no more than they ! " 
Whereas, while their worth proceeds 
From such wants, as they must needs 
Be unmoved ('cause Nature framed 
No affections to be tamed) 
Through her dainty limbs are spread 
Vigour, heat ; and freely shed 
Life blood into every vein 
Till they fill, and swell again : 
And no doubt they strive to force 
Way in some forbidden course; 
Which by Grace, She still resists, 
And so curbs within their lists 
Those Desires, that She is chaster 
Than if she had none to master. 
Malice, never lets She in ; 



6. Wltler.-I M 2 S T R £ S S OF _P It I L'.4 R E T £ 445 

Neither hates She ought, but sin. 
Envy, if She could adroit, 
There's no means fo nourish it : 
For her gentle heart is pleased 
Vrhen She knoxvs another's eased ; 
And there's none whoever got 
That perfection, she hath not. 
So that no cause is there, why 
She should any one envy. 
Mildly Angry She'll appear; 
That the baser rout may iear, 
Through presumption, to misdo. 
Yet, She often feigns that too : 
But let wrong be whatsoever, 
She gives way to Choler, never ! 
If She e'er, of Vengeance thought, 
'Twas nor life, nor blood was sought ; 
But, at most, some prayer to move 
Justice for abusèd love; 
Or that Fate would pay again 
Love's neglectors with disdain. 
If she ever craved of Fate 
To obtain a higher state ; 
Or, ambitiously were given : 
Sure, 'twas but to climb to heaven ! 
Pride is from her heart, as far 
As the poles in distance are. 
For her Worth, nor all this Praise 
Can her humble spirit raise ; 
Less to prize me than before, 
Or herself to value more. 
\¥ere She Vain, She might allege 
'Twere her sex's privilege ; 
But She's such, as, doubtless, no man 
Knows less folly in a woman. 
To prevent a being Idle, 
Sometimes with her curious needle, 
Though it be her meanest glory, 
She so lirons an antique Story, 
As MINERVA (would she take it !) 
Might her richest Sample[r] make it. 



I-G. Wlther. 
446 

Otherwhile, again, she rather 
Labours w[th delight, to gather 
Knowledge from such learned writs 
As are left by famous wits : 
Where, She chiefly seeks to know 
GOD ! Herself ! and what we owe 
To our neighbour! since, with these, 
Corne all needful knowledges. 
She, with AI),ra, never will 
Long to learn both Good and III ; 
But her state vell understood, 
Rests herself content with Good. 
Avarice, abhorreth She, 
As the loathsom'st things that be ; 
Since she knows it is an Ill 
That doth ripest virtue kill. 
And where'er it cornes to rest, 
Though in some strict matron's breast ; 
But she ne'er so seeming just, 
l'Il no shews of goodness trust ! 
For if you, but gold can bring ; 
Such are hired to anything ! 
If you think She Jealous be, 
You are wide ! For, credit me ! 
Her strong,'st jealousies nought are 
Other than an honest care 
Of her friends. And most can tell, 
Whoso wants that, loves not well ! 
Though some little Fear she shows ; 
'Tis no more than Love allows, 
So the Passion do not rnove her 
Till she grieve or wrong her lover! 
She may think he may do ill, 
Though She'll hot believe he will! 
Nor can such a harmless thought 
]31emish true affection ought ; 
Rather, when as else it would, 
Through security, grow cold ; 
This, her Passion, keeping rneasure, 
Strengthens Love, and sweetens Pleasure ! 
Cruelty, her soul detests ! 



For, within her bosom rests 
Noblest F'ity; ushered by 
An unequalled Courtesy : 
And is grieved at good men's moan, 
As the grief were all her own. 
Just, She is. So just, that I 
Know she would hot wrong a fly ; 
Or oppress the meanest thing, 
To be Mistress to a King. 
If our painters would include 
Temperance and Fortitude 
In one picture; She would fit, 
For the nonce, to pattern it ! 
Patient as the lamb is She ! 
Harmless, as the turtles 
Yea, so largely stored with ail 
Which we mortals, Goodness call ; 
That if ever Virtue were, 
Or may be incarnate here. 
This is She! whose praises I 
Offer to Eternity. 

She's no Image trimmed about, 
Fair within, and foui without ! 
t3ut a Gem that doth appear, 
Like a diamond, everywhere 
Sparkling rays of beauty forth ! 
Ail of such unblemished worth, 
That wer 't possible, your eye 
Might ber inmost thoughts espy» 
And behold the dimmest part 
Of the lustre in ber heart : 
It would find that Centre 'pass 
What the Superficies vas; 
And that every angle there, 
Like a diamond's inside were. 
For although that excellence 
Pass the piercing'st eye of Sense ; 
I3y their operations, we 
Guess at things, that hidden beo 
So, beyond our common reach, 



I-Ca. Wkh«r. 
448 

Wise men can, by reason teach» 
What the influences been 
Of a Planet, when unseen ; 
Or the beauty of a star 
That doth shine above us far. 
So by that wide beaming light, 
Wherewith TITAN courts our sight ; 
By his clothing of the earth ; 
By the wondrous, various birth 
Of new creatures, yearly bred 
Through his heat, and nourished : 
And by many virtues mo[r]e 
Which our Senses reach unto, 
We conclude, they are hot ail, 
Which make fair that goodly Ball. 
Though she prize her Honour more 
Than the far-fetched precious store 
Of the rich Moluccas, or 
Ail the wealth was trafficed for, 
Since our vessels passage knew 
Unto Mexico, Peru, 
Or those spacious kingdoms which 
Made the proud Iberians rich. 
'Tis hot that uncertain blast 
Keeps my Mistress Good, or Chaste ! 
She, that but for Honour's sake, 
Doth of III a conscience make 
(More in fear what rumour says, 
Than in love to virtuous ways) ; 
Though she seemed more civil than 
You bave seen a courtezan, 
For an honour ; and cries " 0, fie ! " 
At each shew of vanity ; 
Though she censure ail that be 
Not so foolish coy as she ; 
Though she, xvith the Roman Dame 
Kill herself, to purchase lame : 
She would prostitute become, 
To the meanest, basest groom ; 
If so closely they may do it, 



: ,6,.j • 449 

As the world should never kno»v it. 
So, at best, those women prove 
That for Honour, Virtue love. 

Give me her that goodness chooseth 
For its own sake ! and refuseth 
To have greatest honours gained 
\Vith ber secret conscience stained. 
Give me her ! that »vould be poor ; 
Die disgraced ; nay, thought a whore ; 
And each Time's reproach become 
Till the general Day of Doom : 
Rather than consent to act 
Pleasing sin : though by the fact, 
\Vith esteem of "virtuous," she 
glight the German Empress be ! 
Such my Mistress is! and nought 
Shall bave power to change ber thought. 
Pleasures cannot tempt ber eye, 
On their baits to glance awry. 
For their good, she still esteems 
As itis; hot, as it seems: 
And she takes no comfort in 
Sweetest Pleasure soured with Sin. 
By herself, she hath such care 
That her actions decent are. 
For were she in secret hid, 
None might see what she did ; 
She would do as if for spies 
Every xvall was stuck vith eyes: 
And be chary of her honour 
'Cause the heavens do look upon her ! 
And 0, what had power to move, 
Flames of lust or wanton love 
So far, to disparage us ; 
If we ail, xvere mindèd thus ? 
These are beauties that shall last 
When the crimson blood shall waste.t 
And the shining hair wax gray 
Or, with age, be worn away! 
These yield pleasures such as might 
..'va. G.4R. IV. 29 



ÇG. Wither. 
450 Fnix Uv TUe, TE .  . 

13e remembered with delight, 
\¥hen we gasp our latest breath 
On the loathèd bed of death. 
Though discreetly speak She tan ; 
She'll be silent, rather than 
Talk while others may be heard : 
As if She did hate, or feared 
The condition, who will force 
All to wait on their discourse. 
Reason hath on ber bestowed, 
More of knowledge, than she owed 
To that sex; and Grace, with it, 
Doth aright, her practice fit. 
Yet bath Fate so framèd her 
As She may, at some time, err; 
But if c'er her judgement stray, 
'Tis that other women may, 
Those much pleasing beauties sec, 
Which in yielding natures be. 
For since no perfection tan 
Here on earth be round in man ; 
There's more good in free submissions, 
Than there's ill in our transgressions. 
Should you hear her, once, contend 
In discoursing, to defend, 
As She tan, a doubtful cause ; 
She, such strong positions draws 
From known truths, and doth apply 
Reasons svith such majesty, 
As if She did undertake, 
From some Oracle to speak ; 
And you could not think what might 
]3reed more love, or more delight. 
Yet, ifyou should mark again 
Her discreet behaviour, when 
She finds reason to repent 
Some wrong-pleaded argument ; 
She so temperately lets all 
Her mis-held opinions fall, 
And can, with such mildness bow, 
As 'twill more enamour you, 



Than her knowledge. For there are 
Pleasing sweets without compare 
In such yieldings! xvhich do prove 
Wit, Humility, and Love. 
Yea, by those mistakings, you 
Iter condition so shall know, 
And the nature of her mind 
So undoubtedly shall find, 
As xvill make her more endeared 
Than if she had never erred. 
Farther (that she nought may miss 
\Vhich worth praise in woman is), 
This, unto the rest I add. 
If I, wound or sickness had; 
None should for my curing run ! 
No, not to APOLLO'S son [ 
She, so well the virtue knows 
Of each needful herb that groxvs ; 
And so fitly, can apply 
Salves to every malady : 
"Fhat if She, no succour gave me, 
"Twere no means of Art could savc me ! 
Should my Soul oppressèd lie, 
Sunk with grief and sorrow nigh ; 
She hath balm for minds distressed, 
And could ease my painèd breast. 
She, so well knovs, how to season 
Passionate discourse with Reason ; 
And knows how to sweeten it, 
_Both with so much Love and Wit, 
q'hat it shall prepare the Sense 
To give way with less offence. 
For grievèd minds can ill abide 
12oun.sel churlishly applied ; 
Which instead of comfortings, 
I)esperation often brings. 

But, hark, Nymphs! Methinks, I hear 
lusic sounding in mine ear! 
"Tis a Lute! and he's the best 
For a voice, in ail the West, 



I-G. Withee- 

That doth touch it! And the Swain 
I xvould have you hear, so fain ; 
That to my Song, forbear will I, 
To atte1d his melody. 
Hither cornes he, day by day, 
In these groves to sing and play : 
And in yon close arbour, he 
Sitteth now, expecting me. 
He so bashful is, that mute 
\Vill lais tongue be, and his lute ; 
Should he happen to espy 
This unlooked for company. 
If you, therefore, list to hear him; 
Let's with silence walk more near him ! 
'Twill be worth your pains, believe me ! 
(If a voice, content may give ye !) 
And, await vou shall hot long! 
For he nov'begins a Song. 

SONNE T L 

I[HAT is the cause, when clsewherc I resort, 
I have my gestnres, and discom'se morefi'ee : 
And if I plcase, cat a,y Beanty court .t 
Yet stand so dnll, and so dcmtre by Thcc ? 
Why are my slbcechcs brokcn, whilst I talk ? 
lVhy do I fcar almost thy hand fo tonch ? 
lVhy date I hot embracc Hcc, as wc walk ? 
Sincc, with. fhc greatest Nymlbhs, l've dared as ranch .r 
A h, know that nonc of those I c'er affected .t 
And thcrcfore tsed a carclcss conrtshilb thcrc ; 
13ecansc I, neithcr thcir disdain rcseclcd ; 
Nor ,cckoncd thc» nor thcir embraccs dcar .t 
lnt loz, itt. Thcc .t my love hath round c&ttcnt ; 
And rich delighls, lu thfitgs indiffcrcnt. 



453 

SONNE T II. 

Hi" covet I, tl O, blcsscd cycs fo sce! 
ll'hose swcct aspect may chccr the saddest mind ? 
ll'hy; when our bodics .must divided be, 
Ca I no hour of test or plcasurc find ? 
lVhy d.o I slcepig, start ; aud wakiug, .moan, 
To find that of my dreamd hopcs I miss ? 
ll'hy do I oftc conlemplale alonc, 
Of such a thing as thy Perfection is ? 
And whcrcfore, whc we mcct, doth P, rssion stop 
My spcechlcss tonguc, and lcave me in a panling ? 
ll'hy doth n O, hcart, o'crcharged with fcar and hope, 
In spire of rcason, almost droop to fainting ? 
Bcca,se, in me, thy exccllcnces movi,g, 
Havc draw fo me, aJ» excellence in loving ! 

SONNE T III. 

Aln .' Sincc thy virtucs, my affections more; 
And I haze" vowcd .m), ptrose is to joi» 
In-a etcrnal hand of chastest love, 
Out Sottls, fo make a marriagc most divine. 
" Why," thou may'st think, "then, scemeth he to rize 
An outward beauty's #ditg huc so much ? 
lVhy doth he Read such Lectures i» mine cyes ? 
A nd oftcn strive my tender palm to touch ?" 
O, ardon my presuming  For I swear 
My love is soiled with no htstful spot  
Thy Soul's pc#ctious, throttgh thosc veils apcar ! 
A nd I halffaint, that I embracc them hot  
No #ul Dcsircs doth .makc thy touches swcet ; 
By my Soul striveth, u, ith thy Soul fo mcet I 



I-G- Wither 
454 F.4 _r x V_t z' r u 2v , r_r_r l" t_ : 6. 

SONNET IV. 

It Dic, becausc a woman s Fait ? 
J ____ Or make pale my chccks with care, 
'Cause another's rosy arc ? 
Bc She faircr than thc Day, 
Or thc flowery mcads in May ! 
If Shc be hot so fo ntc, 
l|'hat care 1, how Fair She bc ? 

Should my hcart be gricvcd or pined, 
'Cause I sce a woman Kind ? 
Or a well dislosèd tature 
ffoinèd with a lovcly fcaturc ? 
Bc She mceker, kindcr than 
Turtlc dove, or .pclican ! 
If She bc hot so lo nc, 
||'hat care 1, how Kind She be ? 

Shall a woman's virtues nove 
Me fo pcrish for ber love ? 
Or hcr well dcscrving known, 
Makc me quitc forger mine own ? 
Bc Shc with that Goodncss blcst 
lVhich may gain hcr, tamc of Best! 
If Shc bc hot sttch 1o nc, 
l|'hat care I, how Good Shc bc ? 

"Cause ber fortune seems too hçgh, 
Shall I play the fool, and dic ? 
Thosc that bear a noble mind, 
lVhcre thcy want of riches find, 
Think " l|'hat with them thcy would do ! '" 
That, without them, darc to woo ! 
A nd unlcss that mind I sce, 
What care I, though Grcat Site be ? 



Great, or Good, or Kind, or Fair, 
I will ne'er thc more des[mit ! 
If She love me (this bclieve .t) 
I will die, etc She shall grieve ! 
If She slight me, whcn I woo ; 
I can scorn, and let hcr go ! 
For if She be hot for me ! 
IVhat care I, for whom She be ? 

SONNE T V. 

II'ANDERED out, awhile agone, 
And wcnt, I know hot whithcr ; 
But thcre, do Beautics, many a one, 
Resort, and ntcct togcthcr : 
A nd CUqD'S power will there be shewn, 
If evcr you corne thithcr ! 

For like two suns, two Bcauties bright, 
I, shining saw togethcr : 
And, tempted by their double Iight, 
My eycs I fixt on Either ; 
Till Both, af once, so thralled my sight, 
I Ioved, and knew hot, Whcthcr ? 

Suh equaI sweet, VENUS gave, 
That I1refcrred hot Either ; 
A nd whcn for love, I lhought fo crave, 
I kncw hot wcll of IVhcther ? 
1:or onc whilc, This I wished fo have ; 
A nd then, 1, That had liefcr ! 



456 

A lovcr of the c.urius'st eye, 
Miglt have been 2blcased in Eithcr ; 
And so, I must confess, might I, 
Had they hot bccn togcther. 
PTob Both must love, or Both dcny : 
In one, cnjoy I Ncither. 

B«tt yet, at last, I sc,¢cd the sm,1rt 
I fcarcd, at coming lithcr. 
For sccing my dividcd heart, 
I, choosing, kncw hot lVhelhcr ; 
LOVE, angry grcw, and did dclmrt. 
And, now, I carc .for Ncithcr ! 



[Fait ImTVE'S moral qualities.] 

IEE! tbese trees so iii did ]ride us, 
That tbe Shepherd hath espied us! 
And, as jcalous of his cunning, 
Ail in haste, away is running ! 
To entreat bim back again, 
\Vould be labour spent in vain : 
You may, therefore, now betake ye, 
To tbe Music, I can make thee! 
\Vho do purpose my Invention 
Sball pursue my first Intention. 
For in Her, whose worth I tell, 
Many excellences dwell 
Yet unmentioned; whose perfections 
\Vorthy are of best affections. 

That, which is so rare to find 
I3oth in Man, and \Vomankind 
That, whose absence, love defaceth, 
And both sexes more disgraceth, 
That the spite of furrowed Age, 
icknesses, or Sorrow's rage; 
That's the jewel so divine 
\Vhich doth on her forehead shine 
And therewith endowed is She 
In an excellent degree : 
Constancy, I mean! the purest 
Of all beauties, and the surest. 
For whoe'er doth that possess, 
Hath an endless loveliness ! 
Ail afflictionsl labours, crosses ; 



ÇG. Vthcr.. 
.[7.4 I R l/" I R TUE, T II E l . - 

458 

Ail our dan.ers, wounds, and losses ; 
Games of Pleasure, we can make, 
For that matchless woman's sake ! 
In vhose breast that virtue bideth : 
And we joy, whate'er betideth ! 
Most dejected hearts it gladeth. 
Ïwenty thousand glories addeth 
Unt.o I3eauty's brightest Ray, 
And pr.eserves it from decay ! 
'Tis the sait, that's ruade to season 
Beauty, for the use of Reason ! 
'Tis the varnish, and the oiling, 
Keeps her colours fresh from spoiling ! 
'Tis an excellence, whereby 
Age, though joined with poverty, 
Hath more dear affection won, 
That fresh Youth and \Vealth have done ! 
'Tis a loveliness endearing 
Beauties, scarce worth note appearing ! 
\Vhiist a fairer, fickle Dame 
Nothing gains, but scorn and shame. 
Further, 'ris a beauty such 
As I cannot praise too much, 
Nor frame Measures to express! 
No, nor any man! unless 
He who (more than ail men crost) 
Finals it, in that woman lost ; 
On whose faith, he vould have pawned 
Lire, and ail he could command ! 
Such a man, may, by that miss, 
Make us know, how dear it is! 
\Vhen, o'ercharged with grief, he shall 
Sigh, and break his heart withal. 

This is that Perfection which 
In her favour, makes me rich! 
Ail whose beauties named before, 
Else, would but torment me more : 
And in having this, I find, 
\Vhate'er haps, a quiet mind ! 
Yea, 'tis that, which I do prize 



Far above her lips, her eyes ; 
Or that general beauty, whence 
Shines each several excellence. 

For, Mas! what gained hath he, 
Who may clip the fairest She, 
That the naine of Woman bears ; 
If, unhappily, he fears 
Any other's worth may ",vin 
What he thought lais own had been ? 
Him, base minded deem I should, 
Who (although he were in hold, 
Wrapt in chains) xvould not disdain 
Love with her, to entertain! 
That, both daughter to a Peer, 
And most rich and lovely were : 
When a brainless Gull should dare 
In ber favours with him share ; 
Or the action of a Player 
Rob him of a hope so fair. 

This, I dread not ! For I know 
Strainèd gestures, painted show, 
Shameless boastings, borrowed jests, 
Female looks, gay-plumed crests, 
Vovs, nor protestations vain 
(Wherewith fools are made so vain) 
More Hercan ! save to contemn, 
Or, perhaps, to laugh at them. 
Neither can I doubt or fear, 
Time shall either change or wear 
This her virtue, or impair 
That which makes her soul so fair ! 
In which trust great comforts are, 
Which the fear of loss would mar. 
Nor bath this my rare hope stood 
So much in her being good, 
With her love to Blessèd Things ; 
As in her acknowledgings 
From a Higher Power, to have them 
And her love to Him that gave them 



6o 

G. Wither. 

For, although to have a mind 
Naturally to Good inclined, 
And to love it; wouid assure 
Reason that it might endure : 
Yet., since man was first unjust, 
ïhere's no warrant for such trust I 
Virtues that, most wonder win, 
Would converted be to Sin ; 
If their tlourishings began 
From no better foot than Man ! 
Our best virtues (when they are 
Of themselves) we may compare 
To the beauty of a Flower, 
That is blasted in an bout; 
And which growing to be fuller, 
Turns into some loathèd colour : 
13ut those (bcing freely givcn, 
_And contirmed in us from Hcavcn) 
Ilave a promise on thcm past 
And for evcrrnorc shall last ! 
Diamond likc, thcir lustre clcaring, 
Mor'e and more, by use and wearing! 

,But if this rare Worth I praise, 
Should, by Fate's permission, raise 
Passions in some gentle brcast 
That distemper may his rest : 
And be author of such treason 
As might nigh endanger Reason 
Or enforce his tongue to crave 
\Vhat another man must have. 
Mark, in such a strait as this, 
How discreet her dealing is ! 
She is nothing of their humours 
Who, their honour buiid on rumours 
And had rather private sporting, 
Than allow of open courting : 
Nor 'of theirs, that vould seem holy 
.I3y divulging other's folly. 
Farther is She from their guise 
-'That delight to tyrannise ; 



t;.w,h«,.-1 3I Z S T X  S S OF t) ZZ Z Z't X  T E. 461 

Or make boastings, in espying 
Others, for their favours dying. 
She, a spirit doth possess 
So replete with Nobleness, 
That if She be there beloved ; 
Where she ought not to be moved 
Equally to love again : 
She doth so well entertain 
That affection, as there's none 
Can suppose it ill bestown. 
From Deluding, She is free! 
From Disdain, as far is She ! 
And so feelingly bears part 
Of what pains another's heart ; 
That no ourse of scornèd duty, 
Shall draw vengeance on her beauty : 
Rather, with so tender fear 
Of hcr honour, and their care, 
Shc is touchcd ; that neither shall 
X, Vrong unto herself befall 
By thc tavour She doth show; 
Nor will She neglect them so 
As may just occasion give 
Any way to make them grieve. 
Hope, She will not let them see! 
Lest they should presuming be ; 
And aspire to that, which none 
Ever must enjoy but One. 
From Despair, She keeps them 
Fearing they might hap to do, 
Either through Love's indiscretions, 
Or much over stirrèd passions, 
"Vhat might, xvith their hurt and shame, 
Into question, call her name ; 
And a scandal on her bring 
Who is just in everything. 
She hath marked how others run, 
And bv them hath learnt to shun 
Both heir fault, who, over wise, 
Err by being too precise; 
And their folly, that o'er kind, 



.462 

Are to al| complaints inclined. 
For her Wit hath round the way 
How, a v!ile, to hold them play ; 
And that inconvenience shun 
Whereinto both seem to run, 
By allowing them a scope 
Just betwixt Despair and Hope : 
\Vhere confined, and reaching neither, 
They do take a part in either ; 
Till, long living in suspense, 
Tired by her Indifference, 
Time, at last, their Passion vears. 
Passions wearing, Reason clears! 
Reason gives their Judgement light 
Judgement bringeth ail to right ! 
So, their Hope appearing vain; 
They become themselves again ! 
And with high applauses (fit 
For such Virtue with such Wit) 
q'hey, that service only proffer, 
She may take, and they may offer 
Yet, this course she never proves 
;ave with those, whose virtuous loves 
Use the noblest means of gaining 
Favours, worthy the obtaining. 
And if such should chance to err 
Either 'gainst themselves, or Her, 
In some oversights, when they 
Are, through Passion, Ied astray; 
She, so well man's frailty knows! 
With the dal'ts, that Beauty throws 
As she will not, adding terror, 
Break the heart, for one p»or error ! 
Rather, if stilI good they be, 
Twenty remedies hath She 
Gently to apply, where Sense 
Hath invaded Reason's fence: 
And, without or vound, or scar, 
Turns to peace, a lavless war. 
But to th-0se, whose baser rires 
t3reathe out smoke of such desires 



'G. Wither.-Ir 6._1 -/][ I S T R E S S OF -P I[ I L'zI R £ TE. 463 

As may dim, xvith impure steams, 
Any part of I3eauty's beams : 
She will deign no milder way, 
Those foul burnings to allav ; 
Save with such extreme neglect 
As shall work ber wished eflect. 
And to use so sharp a cure, 
She's hOt oft constl'ainèd, sure, 
'Cause, on her forehead, still, 
Goodness sits ; so feal'ed of Ill ! 
That the scorn and high disdains 
\Vhercwithal she entcl'tains 
Those loathed g!ances, giveth ending 
To such flamings the tynding 
That their coolèd hopes needs must 
Freeze Desires in heat of Lust. 

'Tis a power that never lies 
I11 the fair'st immodest eyes ! 
Wantons ! 'tis not your sweet eyings, 
Forcèd passions, feignèd dyings, 
Gestures' temptings, tears' beguilings, 
Dancings, singings, kissings, smilings ! 
Nor those painted sweets, with which, 
¥ou, unwary men bewitch ! 
Ail united, nor asunder 
That can compass such a Wonder ! 
Or, to win you love prevails, 
Where ber moving virtues fails. 
Beauties ! 'tis not all those features, 
Placèd in the fairest creatures ; 
Though their best thev should discover, 
That can tempt from Ier, a lover! 
'Tis not those soif snowy breasts 
\Vhere Love, rocked in Pleasure, rests ; 
And by their continual motions 
Draweth hearts to vain devotions ! 
Nor the nectar that we sip 
From the honey-dropping lip! 
Nor those eyes, whence t3eauty's lances 
X, Vound the heart with wanton glances! 



[ G. Wither. 
464 .F.a Ix. VI run, r t. . .- 

Nor those sought delights that lie 
In LovE's hidden treasury! 
That can liking gain, where She 
Will the best belovèd be! 
For should those who think they may 
Draw my love from her away, 
]3ring forth ail their female graces ! 
Wrap me in their close embraces ! 
Practise all the Art they may ! 
Weep! or sing ! or kiss ! or pray! 
And, with sighs and looks, corne woo me ! 
When they soonest may undo me, 
One poor thought of Her would arm me 
So, as CmcE could hot harm me ! 
Since besides those excellences 
Wherewith others please the Senses, 
She, whom I bave prizèd so, 
Yields delights for Reason too ! 

Who could dote on thing so common 
As mere outward-handsome woman ? 
Those Half-Beauties only win 
Yools, to let affection in ! 
Vulgar vits, from Reason shaken, 
Are with such impostures taken ! 
And, xvith all their art in love, 
Wantons can but wantons more ! 
But when, unto those are joined, 
Those things which adorn the Mind ; 
None their excellences see, 
But they straight enthrallèd be ! 
Fools and wise men, worst and best, 
Subjects are to LOVE'S A rrcst ; 
For when VIRTUE WOOeS a loyer 
She's an unresisted mover, 
That will bave no kind of " Nay ! " 
And in love, brooks no delav. 
She can make the sensual wights 
"Fo restrain their appetites ; 
And her beauty, when they see, 
Spite of Vice, in love to be : 



.Wither.-] [.l'S Tldt  S S 0 .F 
 . xe re. 46 5 

Yea, (although themselves be bad) 
lraise the good they never had ! 
She bath to ber service brought 
Those that Her have set at nought, 
And can fait enough appear 
To inflame the most severe. 
She hath, off, allurèd out 
The religiously devout 
From their cloisters, and their vows, 
To embrace what She allows ! 
And to such contentments corne 
As blind Zeal had barred them from ; 
While (ber laws misunderstood) 
They did I11, for love of Good. 
Where I find True Worth to be 
Sweetest are their lips to me ! 
And embraces tempt me so, 
More than outward beauties do, 
That my firm belief is this ; 
If I ever do amiss, 
Seeming-Good, the bait will lay, 
That to Ill, shall me betray. 
Since where Shews of Goodness are, 
I ara oft emboldened there, 
Freedoms so permit and use, 
Which I elsewhere do refuse ; 
For because I think they mean, 
To allow no deed unclean. 
Yet where t,,vo, love VlRTUE shall, 
]3oth, at once, they seldom fall ! 
For when one hath thoughts of Ill, 
T'other helps exile them still. 

My Fair VIRTUE'S pover is this, 
And that power the beauty is 
"Which doth make Her, here exprcat, 
Equally both Fair and Blest : 
This ! was that contenting grace 
XVhich affection ruade me place 
\Vith so dear respect, that never 
Can it rail, but last for ever. 
lV. .O 



I-G. Wkhi. 
466 

This! a Servant ruade me sworn, 
XVho, before time, held in scorn 
To yield vassalage or duty; 
Though unto the Queen of Beauty ! 
Yet that I, her Servant am, 
It shall more be to my faine, 
Than to ovn these voods and downs, 
Or be Lord of fifty towns : 
_And, my Mistress, to be deemed, 
Should more honour be esteemed 
Than those titles to acquire 
\Vhich most women most desire. 
Yea, when you a voman shall, 
Countess, or a Duchess call : 
That respect it shall hot move, 
1Neither gain her hall such love 
_As to say, "Lo ! this is She 
That supposèd is to be 
Mistress to PHIL'ARETE ! 
_And that lovely Nymph, which he 
In a Pastoral Poem famed, 
And Fait VIRTUE, there hath named!" 
Yea, some ladies (ten to one I) 
If hot many, now unknown, 
XVill be very well apaid 
Vqhen, by chance, she hears it said 
She that " Fair One" is, whom I 
I-lave, here, praised concealedly. 
_And though, now, this Age's Pride 
May so brave a Hope deride ; 
Yet, when all their glories pass, 
_As the thing that never was, 
_And on monuments appear 
That they e'er had breathing here, 
\¥ho envy it ; She shall thrive 
In ber faine, and honoured live ; 
While Great Britain's Shepherds sing 
English in their Sonneting ! 
And whoe'er, in future days, 
Shall bestow the utmost praise 
On his love, that any man 



Attribute to creature can ; 
'Twill be this! that he hath dared, 
ttis and Mine to have compared. 
O, what stars did shine on me, 
Vhen her eyes I first did see ! 
And hov good was their aspect, 
\Vhen we first did both affect ! 
For I never since to changing 
\¥as inclined, or thought of ranging 

Me, so oft my Fancy drev 
ttere and there, that I ne'er knev 
\Vhere to place Desire, belote, 
No that range it might no more. 
But as he that passeth by 
\Vhere, in all her jollity, 
FLORA'S riches, in a row, 
I)oth in seemly order grov ; 
And a thousand flowers stand, 
Bending as to kiss his hand : 
Out of which delightful store, 
One, he may take, and no more ! 
Long he pausing, doubteth vhether 
Of those fair ones he should gather. 
First, the Primrose courts his eyes ! 
"rhen, the Covslip he espies ! 
Next, the Pansy seems to voo him ! 
"rhen, Carnations bov unto him ! 
\Vhich, vhilst that enamoured Swain 
From the stalk, intends to strain ; 
(As hall fearing to be seen) 
lrettily, her leaves between, 
leeps the Violet ! pale to see 
"rhat her virtues slightèd be : 
\Vhich so much his liking wins 
"I'hat, to seize her, he begins ; 
Yet belote he stooped so lov 
tte, his wanton eye did throxv 
On a stem that grev more high, 
And the Rose did there espy. 
\Vho, besides her precious scent, 



468 

.FAIIg Vllg TU'E, 

G. Withero 

To procure his eyes' content, 
Did display ber goodly breast ; 
Y¢here he found, at full exprest, 
Ail the Good that Nature showers 
On a thousand other flowers. 
Wherewith he, affected, takes it! 
His Beloved Flower, he makes it! 
And, without desire of more, 
Walks through all he saw before. 
So I, wandering but erevhile, 
Through the Garden of this Isle, 
Saw rich Beauties, I confess, 
And in number, numberless ; 
And so difiering lovely too, 
That I had a world to do, 
Ere I could set up my rest 
Where to choose, and choose the best. 
One I saw, vhose Hair excellèd ! 
On another's Brow there dwellèd 
Such a Majesty, it seemed 
She was best to be esteemed ! 
This had, vith ber Speeches von me ! 
That, with Silence had undone me ! 
On her Lips, the Graces hung! 
T'other charmed me vith her tongue ! 
In her Eyes, a third did bear 
That which did anew ensnare ! 
Then a fourth did fairer show, 
Yet vherein I did hot know ! 
Only this perceivèd I, 
Somewhat pleased my Fantasy. 
Now the Wealth, I most esteemed ! 
Honour then, I better deemed ! 
Next, the love of Beauty seized me ! 
And then Virtue better pleased me ! 
JvNo's love I nought esteemed ! 
Whilst a VEvs fairer seemed ! 
Nay, both could not me suffice, 
Whilst a PIIS was more vise ! 
Though I round enough in One 
To content, if still alone. 



AMARILLIS, I did voo ! 
And I courted IHILLIS to0! 
I)APHNE, for ber love I chose 
CLORIS, for that damask rose 
In her cheek, I held as dear ! 
Yea, a thousand liked, well near 
And in love with All together» 
Feared the enjoying Either ! 
'Cause to be, of one possest, 
13arred the hope of all the rest. 

Thus I fondly fared, till Fate, 
(Which I must confess, in that, 
Did a greater favour to me, 
Than the world can malice do me) 
8hewed to me that matchless flower 
-ubject for this Song of our. 
Whose perfection having eyed 
Reason instantly espied, 
That Desire, which ranged abroad, 
There, would find a period. 
And, no marvel ! if it might : 
For it, there, hath ail Delight ; 
And in Her, hath Nature placed 
What each several Fair once graced. 
Nor am I, alone delighted, 
\Vith those graces, all united, 
vVhich the Sense's eye doth find 
8cattered throughout Womankind. 
But my Reason finds perfections 
To inflame my Soul's affections : 
Yea, such virtues She possesseth, 
As, with firmest pleasures blesseth I 
_And keeps sound that Beauty's state, 
vVhich would else grow ruinate. 
In this Flower are sweets, such store 
I shall never wish for more ! 
Nor be tempted out to stray 
For the fairest buds in May! 

Let, who list ! for me, advance 



-G. Witler 

470 

The admired flowers of France 
Let, who will ! praise and behold 
The reservèd Marigold ! 
Let the sweet-breathed Violet, 
Unto whom she pleaseth, bow ! 
And the fairest Lily spread, 
Where she will, ber golden head 
I have such a flower to wear ; 
That for those, I do hot care ! 
Never shall my Fancy range 
Nor once think again of change 
Never will I, never more ! 
Grieve or sigh, as heretofore ! 
Nor vithin the lodgings lie 
Of Despair, or Jealousy ! 
Let the young and happy Swains, 
Playing on the Britain plains, 
Court, unblamed, their shepherdesses 
And with their gold-curlèd tresses 
Toy uncensured ! until I 
Grudge at their prosperity ! 
Let all Times, both Present, Past 
And the Age that shall be last ; 
Vaunt the beauties they bring forth 
I have found in One, such worth 
That, content, I neither care 
\Vhat the best before me were ; 
Nor desire to lire and see 
\Vho shall fair hereafter be. 
For I know the hand of Nature 
Will not make a fairer creature 
\Vhich, because succeeding days 
Shall confess, and add their praise 
In approving what my tongue 
(Ere they had their being) sung 
Once again, corne, lend an ear! 
And a Rapture you shall hear 
(Though I taste no Thespian spring)' 
Will amaze you ; whilst I sin 
I do feel new Strains inspiring, 
And to such brave heights aspiring 



G. Wither."] 622.1 -/.IS T.I.ESS Off' .DHI£'A 

That my Muse vill touch a key, 
Higher than you've heard to-day ! 
I have I3eauties to unfold 
That deserve a Pen of Gold ! 
Sweets that never dreamed of were ! 
Things unknown ; and such as Ear 
Never heard a Measure sound 
Since the sun first tan his round! 

\Vhen APELLES limbed to life, 
Loathèd VULCAN's lovely wife ; 
\Vith such beauties he did turn 
Each sveet feature, and each limb, 
And so curiously did place 
Ivery well becoming grace ; 
That 'tvas said, ere he could draw 
uch a Piece, he naked sav 
Many vomen in their prime 
And the fairest of that Time; 
From ail which, he, parts did take, 
Which, aright disposèd, make 
Perfect I3eauty. So when you 
Know what I have yet to show, 
It will seem to pass so far 
Those things which expressèd are; 
That you will suppose l've been 
Privileged, where I have seen 
AIl the Good that's spread in parts 
Through a thousand women's hearts! 
\Vith their fait'st conditions fie 
I3are, without hypocrisy ! 
And that I have took from thence, 
Each dispersèd excellence 
To express Her, vho hath gained 
More than ever One obtained. 
And yet, sort ! I fear, in vain 
I have boasted such a train ! 
Apprehensions ever are 
Greater than Expression, far ! 
And my striving to disclose 
"What I know, bath ruade me lose 



ÇG. Wither. 
7 I/ IP T U, T//   

472 

My Invention's better part : 
And my Hopes exceed my Art! 
Speak, I can ; yet Think I more ! 
Words, compared with Thoughts, are poor! 
And I find, had I begun 
Such a Strain, it would be done 
When we number all the sands 
\Vashed o'er perjured GoDwn's lands. 
For of things I should indite, 
\Vhich, I know are infinite. 

I do yield[ My Thoughts did climb 
Far above the power of Rhyme ! 
And no wonder it is so, 
Since there is no Art can show 
Red in roses, white in snow; 
Nor express how they do grow. 
Yea, since bird, beast, stone, and tree, 
"rhat inferior creatures be, 
Beauties have, which we confess 
Lines unable to express ; 
"rhey more hardly can enrol 
Those that do adorn a Souh 
But suppose my Measures could 
Reach the height, I thought they would : 
Now, relate, I would not though, 
Vhat did swell within me so. 
For if I should all descry, 
¥ou would know as much as I ! 
And those clowns the Muses hate, 
Vould of things above them, prate ! 
Or, with their profaning eyes, 
Corne to view those mysteries 
\Vhereof, since they disesteemed them, 
Heaven bath unworthy deemed them [ 
And besides, it seems to me, 
"I'hat your ears nigh tirèd be[ 
I perceive the tire that charmeth 
And inspireth me, scarce warmeth 
Your chill hearts ! Nay, sure, were I 
Melted into Poesy, 



G. Wither.-] 
$. x6uu.A 

I should nota Measure hit, 
(Though AVOLLO prornpted it) 
Which should able be to leave 
That in you, which I conceive ! 
You are cold ! and here I may 
Vaste my vital heat away 
Ere you vill be moved so much 
As to feel one perfect touch 
Of those Sweets ; vhich, yet concealed, 
8well my breast, to be revealed. 

Now, my Words, I therefore cease ! 
That my mounting Thoughts, in peace» 
,,lay, alone, those pleasures share, 
"Vhereof Lines unvorthy are ! 
And so you, an end do see, 
Of my Song ; though long it be ! 

473 



,474 

I-G. Wither. 

O SOONEI had the Shepherd IHIL'ARET, 
To this Description, his last period set ; 
But instantly, descending Irom a wood, 
\Vhich on a rising ground, adjoining stood, 
A troop of Satyrs, to the viexv of all, 
Came dancing, of a new devisèd brall. 
The measures they did pace, by Him were taught them, 
\¥ho, to so rare a gentleness had brought them, 
That he had learned their rudeness an observing 
Of such respect unto the we!l deserving ; 
As they became to no man else, a terror, 
But such as did persist in wilful error: 
And they, the Ladies, made no white affeared 
"rhough since that time, they some Great Men have scared. 
Their dance, the lVl@Ding of A buse they named ; 
And though the Shepherd, since that, bath been blamed : 
Yet, now, 'tis daily seen in every town [ 
And there's no Country Dance that's better known ! 
Nor that bath gained a greater commendation 
'Mongst those that love an honest recreation ! 
This Scene presented ; from a grove was heard 
A Set of Viols ; and there, xvas prepared 
A Country Banquet, which this Shepherd made 
To entertain the Ladies, in the shade. 
And 'tis supposed, his Song prolongèd was 
Of purpose, that it might be brought to pass. 
So well it was performed that each one deemed, 
The banquet might the City bave beseemed ; 
Yet, better xvas their Welcome, than their Fare, 
Which they perceived, and the merrier were. 

One Beauty though, there sat among the rest, 
That looked as sad as if her heart oppressed 



ç.wlth,.-l: 6,._1 .]IllSTRESS OF PtllL'.4XETE • 475- 

With love had been. \Vhom PHIL'ARET beholding 
Sit so demurely, and her arms enfolding: 
" Lady ! " quoth he, "am I, or this poor cheer, 
The cause that you so melancholy are ? 
For if the obiect of your thoughts be higher, 
It fits nor me to knov them, nor inquire : 
But if from me it cometh, that offends ; 
I seek the cause, that I may make amends ! " 

" Kind Swain ! " said she, " it is nor so ! nor so ! 
No fault in you ! nor in your cheer I knov ! 
Nor do I think there is a thought in me, 
That can too worthy of your knowledge be ! 
Nor have I, many a day, more pleasure had 
Than here I find, though I have seemèd sad. 
My heart is sometimes heavy when I smile ; 
And when I grieve, I offen sing the while. 
Nor is it sadness that doth me possess, 
But rather, muslng, with much seriousness, 
Upon that multitude of sighs and tears, 
\Vith those innumerable doubts and fears 
Through vhich 3"ou passed, ere vou could acquire 
A settled Hope of gaining your besire. 
For you dared love a Nymph, so great and fair, 
As might have brought a Prince unto despair ; 
And, sure, the excellency of your Passions 
Did then produce as excellent impressions. 
If, therefore, me the suit may xvell become ! 
And if to you, it be not vearisome ! 
In naine of all the Ladies, I entreat 
That one of those sad Strains you would repeat, 
\Vhich you composed, xvhen greatest Discontent 
Unsought-for help, to your Invention lent ! " 

" Fair Nymphs !" saict PHIL'ARET, " I will SO do ! 
For though your Shepherd doth no Courtship know, 
He hath Humanity ! and vhat's in me, 
To do you service, may commanded be !" 

So, taking dovn a lute, that near him hung; 
He gave't his boy, who played : xvhilst this, he sung. 



[SONNET I.] 

"Ah, me !" 
A m I the Swain 
That late, [rom sorrow free, 
Did ail the cares on carth disdain ? 
And still untouchcd, as at some sa fer gaines, 
Played with the burning coals of Love, and Beauty's flames ? 
lVas't I, could dire, and sound each Passion's secret depth af will ; 
.'t nd from those h2çffe overwhelmings, vise, by help of Reason, still? 
And ara I, now, 0 heavcns ! (for tryhtg this in vain) 
So sunk, that I shall never vise again ? 
Then let Despair set Sorrow's string 
For Strains, that dole[ul'st be ! 
And I will sing 

But why, 
0 fatal Time ! 
Dost Thou constrain, that I 
Should perish in my Youth's sweet #rime ? 
I, but a while ago, You cruel PowersY 
In spite of Fortune, croped Contentment's sweetest flowers. 
And yet, unscorned, serve a gcntle NynSh, the #irest She, 
îhat ever was beloved of Man, or eyes did ever see. 
Yea, one, whose tender hearl wouM r, #r my distress ; 
Yet I, poor I  must erish nay - the . less : 
A nd, which much more augments my care, 
Unmoaned, I must die ! 
Know why ! 



477 

Thy lcave, 
My dying Song ! 
Yet take t. etc Grief bereave 
The breath which I e.joy too long. 
Tell thou that Fait One this .t " My Soul prefers 
Her love above my li]e, and lhat I died hers! 
And let Him be, for evermore, o her remembrance dear, 
Who loved lise very thought of Hcr, whilst he rcmained hem .t ,, 
And now, Jarcwell, thou place of my unhappy birlh .t 
IVhere once I bmathed lhc sweetest air on earth : 
Since me, my wonted joys Jorsakc, 
And all my trust deceive ; 
Of all, I take 
My leave .t 

Farewdl, 
Sweet Groves, to you ! 
You Hills, that highest dwell ; 
And all you humble Vales, adieu 
You wan.tot» Brooks  and solitary Rocks? 
My dear Companions all  and you, my ten&r Flocks  
Ntravcll, my ipe  and all lhose pleasing Songs, wlwse moving Slr]ns 
Delighted once the fairest Nymphs that dance upon. the plains 
You Disconttments (whose &ep and over-&adly smart 
Have, without piO', broke the truest heart) ! 
Sighs ¢ Tears  and every sad A nnoy 
That erst did with ne dwell l 
And all others' oy ] 
Farcwdl I 



|G. Wither. 

A dieu 
Fait Shcpherdcsscs ! 
Let garlands of sad yew 
A dorn your dainty golde tresses ! 
I that loved yozt, and oftcn, with my quill 
Made mmic that delighted jountain, grove, and hill! 
t, whom you lovcd so ; and with a swect and chaste embrace ; 
Yca, with a thousand rarcr favours, would vouchsafe fo grace ! 
I, now, mttst lcave you all alone ! of Love fo 'plain, 
And never Pipe, tor »ever Sing agai 
I must, for evermore, be gone ! 
And, thercfore, bid I yo, 
And cvery one, 
Adicu ! 

I die ! 
For O, I Jeel 
Death's horrors drawing m;gh ! 
And all this frame of Nature rcels ! 
My hopeless heart, despairing of relief, 
Sinks underncalh lhe heavy weight of saddest grief l 
IVhich hath so r«thless lorn, so racked, so tortured evcy rein, 
A ll com]ort cornes too late, to bave it ever cured again. 
My swimming head begins to dame Death's giddy round! 
A shuddering chillness dolh each sense confound ! 
Bcnumbcd is n coM-sweaing brow ! 
A dimness shuts my eyel 
And now, 0 now, 
I die  



,G. WitheT.-]? x622._1 -/7 ]" I .-ç 2"  E .S .? 0t; AOHIL'.4E. ETE • 479 

0 MOVlNGLY these lines he did express, 
And to a tune so full of heaviness ; 
As if, indeed, his purpose had been past 
To lire no longer than the Song did last. 
çVhich in the Nymphs, such tender passion bred, 
That some of them, did tears of pity shed. 

This she perceiving, who first craved the Song, 
"Shepherd!" she said, "although it be no wrong 
Nor grief to you, those Passions to recall 
Vhich, heretofore, you have been pained withal 
But comforts rather, since they, now, are over 
And you, it seemeth, an enjoying lover : 
Yet some Nymphs among us, I do see; 
Vho, so much movèd with your Passions be, 
That, if my aim I have taken aright, 
Their thoughts will hardly let them sleep to-night. 
I dare hot, therefore, beg of you again 
To sing another of the selfsame Strain ; 
For fear it breed within them, more unrest 
Than women's xveaknesses can well digest. 
Yet, in your Measures, such content you hay.e 
That one Song more, I will presume to crave. 
And if your memory preserves of those 
Which ),ou, of your affections did compose 
]3efore you saw this Mistress ; let us hear 
\Vhat kind of Passions, then, within you were 
To which request, he instantly obeyed ; 
And this ensuing Song, both sung and played. 



I-G. Withero 
480 Fsx Usx Tt«, "F_ L . ,. 

SONNE T II. 

Ou gentle Nymhs ! that on these meadows 2blay, 
And off relate the loves of Shclherds yom,g ; 
Corne, sit you down ! For if you 15lease fo stay. 
Now may you hcar an uncottth Passion stmg .t 
./t Lad thcre is, and I ara that 2boor Groom ; 
That's fall'n in love, and cannot tell with whom .t 

0 do hot stalle af sorrow, as a jest ! 
With others' carcs, good nahtrcs movèd be ; 
And I should weep, if you had my tnrcst t. 
Thcn, af my grief, how can you merry be ? 
Ah, where is tender 2bity tow become ? 
I ara in love, and cannot tell with whom ! 

I, that have off, the rarest features viewed, 
A nd Beauty in hcr best tcrtcction seen ; 
I, that bave laugl, ed af thcm that love 2bursued, 
A nd ever free from such affections becn : 
Lo, now af last, so cruel is my doom ! 
I ara in love, and cannot tell with whom ! 

My kart is fitll nigh bursting with Desire ; 
Yet cannot final from whcnce these lo,ght,¢s flow : 
My breast doth burn, but She that lights the tire, 
I nevcr saw, nor ca¢t I corne fo 
So great a bliss, wy forhme kee2bs me from ; 
That though I dearly love, I know not whom 

Ere I had twicc four Springs rcnewed sccn, 
Thc force of Bcauty I began to prove ; 
A nd ere I nine ycars old had fully been, 
It taught me how to ff,ame ci Song of Love, 
And littlc thought I, this day should bave corne, 
Before that I, to love had round out whom ! 



C,. 
Wither.-] 
STRESS O OrIL,RET 48 

For on my chin, the mossy down you see ! 
A nd in my vehs, well heated blood doth glow ! 
Of Summers I have seen twice three rimes three ; 
A nd fast, my youtloEul rime away doth go ! 
That much I fear, I agèd shall become, 
A nd still comllain , I love, I know hot whom! 

0, wloE had I a heart bestowed on me, 
To cherish dear affections, so inclined ? 
Since I an so unhalpy born fo be 
No Object, for so true a Love fo find. 
IVhen I a» dead, if will be »issed of songe 
Yet, now I lire, I love, I know hot whom 

I fo a thousand beauteous Nymphs ara known ! 
A hundred Ladies' favours do I wear ! 
I, with as many, hall in love a» grown ; 
Yet none of tkem, I find, can be my Dear ! 
Methinks, I bave a Mistress yet to corne ! 
Vhich makes me sing, I love, I know hot whom ! 

There lires no Swain doth stronger Passion lrove 
For her, who» most he covets fo lossess ; 
Than doth my heart, that being full of love 
Knows hot to whom if may the saine lrofess ! 
For he that is deslised, hath sorrow some ; 
But he hath more, that loves, and knows not whom ! 

Knew I my Love, as many others do, 
To some one object might my thoughts be bcnt ! 
So they divided, should hot wandering go 
Until the Soul's united force be s#e»t. 
As his, that seeks and never finds a home, 
Sud» is my test, that love, and know not whom ! 
rvc G. iv. 31 • 



ïG. Wither. 
482 

Those, whom the frowns of jealous friends divide, 
May live lo neet, and descant on their woe ; 
And he hath gained a Lady for his bride, 
That durst hot woo her Maid, a while ago. 
But O, what end unto my lwies can cone ? 
That am in love, and cannot tell with whom ! 

Poor COLLIN grieves that he was late disdained ; 
And CLOraS doth, for IVILLY'S absewe fibre; 
Sad TH2eSS wees, for his sick PHŒEEBE ained : 
But ail their sorrows cantot equal mine ! 
A greater care, alas, o» rite is cogite. 
I am in love, and cannot tell with whom ! 

NARCISSUS like, did I affect my shade ; 
Some shadow yet I had to dote ¢o».t 
Or did I love some Image of the dead, 
IVhose Substance had hot breathed long agone ? 
I might des#air ! and so an end wozdd corne ; 
But O, I love ! and cannot tell you whom ! 

Once, 6t a dream, mcthought, my Lo,e I viewed, 
Btt never, waking, could ber.lace behold ; 
A nd, doubtless, that resemblance was but shewed 
That more my tirèd heart, tormcnt it should. 
For, since that rime, more grieved I ara become ; 
And more in love, I cannot tell with whom ! 

Vhen on my bed, at night, fo test I lie, 
My watchful eyes, with tcars bedew my cheek ; 
And then, "0 wodd it once were day ! " I cry, 
Yet when if cornes, I ara as far to seek. 
For who can tell, though all the earth he roam ; 
Or when, or where to find, he knows hot whom ? 



O, if she may be among the beautcous trains 
Of ail you Nymhs, that haunt the silvcr rills .t 
Or if you know hcr, Ladies of the plains .t 
Or you, that have your bowers on the hills ! 
Tcll, if ymt can, who will my Love bccome ? 
Or I shall die, and never know for whom ! 

HE Ladies smiled oft, when this they heard, 
Because the Passion strange to them appeared, 
And stranger was it, since by his expression, 
As well as by his own unfeigned confession, 
It seemèd truc ! But having sung it out ; 
And seeing, scarcely manners, they it thought, 
To urge him further: thus to them, he spake. 
" Fair Ladies ! forasmuch as doubt you make 
To re-command me ; of mine own accord, 
Another Strain I freely will afford. 
It shall not be of Love, nor any Song 
Vhich to the praise of Beauty doth belong ; 
But that, hereafter, xvhen you hence are gone, 
Your Shepherd may be sometime thought upon! 
To shev you also, vhat Content the Field 
And lonely Grove to honest minds may yield ! 
That you, my humble fate may not despise, 
\Vhen you are returned unto your braveries ; 
And not suppose that, in these homely bowqrs, 
I hug my fortune, 'cause I know not yours. 
Such Lines l'Il sing, as were composed by me, 
When some proud Courtiers, where I happed to be, 
Did (like themselves) of their own glories prate, 
As in contempt of my more happy state. 
And these they be" 



484 

J-G. Wither. 
SONNET [III.] 
__  ORDY Gallants ! tcll me this ! 
(Though my safe Content you weigh hot!) 
In your greatness, what one bliss 
Have you gained, that I enjoy hot ? 
You have Honours, you have Wealth ! 
I bave Peace, and I have Hcallh ! 
A ll the day I merry make ; 
A ud, at night, no care I lake t. 
Bound to none, my fortunes be ; 
This, or that man's fMI, I fear hot ! 
Him I love, llat loveth me; 
For the test, a pin I care hot ! 
You are sad, when others chaf« ; 
Aud grow merry as they laugh ! 
I, thaf hale it, and ara free, 
Laugh and wecp, as pleaseth me ! 
You may boast of favours shown, 
Where your service is a])lied ! 
But my lbleasures are mine own, 
A nd fo no man's humours tied. 
You off flatter, sooth, and feign l 
I, such baseness do disdain ! 
A nd to none, be slave I would, 
Though  fetters migM be gold ! 
By greatest titles, some believe, 
H ighcst honours are attained ; 
A nd yet Kings have lbower to give 
To their Fools, what these bave gaincd. 
ll'hcre they favour, ¢here lhcy may 
A ll their Names of Honour lay ! 
But I look hot, raised fo be, 
Till mine own wing carry me ! 



.M+s2"xss o" _Pvrz'/xz.. 485 

Scek fo raise your titles higher ! 
They are toys mt worth my sorrow. 
Those that we, to-day, admire, 
Provethe Age's scorn to-morrow ! 
Take your Honours ! Let me find 
Virtue in a free bor mind ! 
This, the greatest Kings that 
Cannot give, nor take from me ! 

Though I vainly do hot vaunt 
Large demesnes to feed my plcasure : 
I bave favours, where you want, 
That would buy Rcsect with treasure l 
You have lands lie here, and therc ; 
But my wealth is eerywhere ! 
And this addeth fo my store, 
Fortune cannot make me poor! 

Say, you purchase, with your pelf, 
Some respect, where you importune 
Those may love me, for mysdf ; 
That regard you for your fortu,e ! 
Rich, or born of high degree, 
Fools, as well as you, may be ! 
But that Peace i» which I lire, 
1Vo Descent, nor Wealth can givc 

If yon boast that you may gain 
The respect of high-bom Beauties ; 
Içnow I never wooed in 
lVor prerrèd scnM duties l 
Sloe I ve, bath aH delight, 
Rosy rd with lily white ; 
 M, wlwe'ev your Mistres be, 
Flesh and blood as good as She ! 



I-G. Wither. 
486 F4« V«ruï, ' L t . 

Note of me, was never took 
For my womanlike perfections ; 
But so like a Man I look, 
If hath gained me best aecHons  
For my love, as many showe«s 
Have becn wept, as have #r yom's ! 
And yet none doth me condemn 
For ab,tse, or scorning thon ! 

Though of dainties, you bave store 
To delight a choicer palate ! 
Yet your faste is pleased no more 
Than is mine, in one poor sallat ! 
You fo please your senses feed ! 
But I eat, gooà blood to breed ! 
And ara most delightcd then 
Whcn I spcmt il like a man ! 

Though you Lord it over me ; 
You, in vain, thereof Imve bravèd ! 
For those Lusts, my servants be ; 
lVhereu.nto yo-nr minds are slavèd ! 
To yourseIves yo, wise appear, 
But, Mas, deceived yon are ! 
Yo« do, foolish me esteem ; 
And ara that, which I do seem ! 

tVhen yotr faults I open lay ; 
Yoa are moved, and mad with vexhtg ! 
But you m'er could do, or say 
Ought to drive me to perplexhg ! 
Therefore, my despisèd power 
Greater is, by far, than your ! 
A »d whate'er you think of me, 
In yotr minds, you poorer be ! 



tWithe*'l,62,._l ./]I"IS T R E S S 01; .P tl I L'A R £ TE. 48ï 

You are pleasd, more or less, 
A smcn, well or ill rclbort you ! 
And shew discontentcdncss 
When the Times forbear fo court you ! 
That in which my plcasures be, 
]Vo man can divide from me ! 
And my care it adds hot to, 
IVhatso others say or do. 

Be hot proud, because you view 
You, by thousands are attendcd ! 
For, Mas, if is hot You, 
But Your Fortune ! that's bcfriendcd. 
lVhere I shew of love bave got, 
Such a danger, fear I hot ! 
'. " Since they nought can seek of me ; 
But [or love, beloved to be. 

lVhen your hearts have everything ; 
You are pleasantly disposed ! 
But I can both laugh and sing, 
Though my foes bave me enclosed. 
Yea, when dangers me do hem, 
I ddight in scorning them ! 
More than you, in your retown 
Or a King can, in his crown. 

You do bravely domineer 
IVhilst the sun upon you shineth ! 
Yet if any storm apthear, 
Basely, then, your mind declineth ! 
But, or shine, or tain, or blow, 
I, my resolutions know ! 
Living, dying, thrall, or free ; 
A t one height, my Mbtd shall be ! 



When in thraldom, I bave lain ; 
Me, hot worth your thought you lrizèd ! 
But your malice was in vain, 
For your favours I desisèd. 
A nà howe'er you value me, 
1, with ]raise, shall thought on be ! 
When the world esteems you hot, 
And your Names shall be forgot. 

In these thoughts my riches are, 
Now, though loor and nean you deem me ! 
I ara leased, and do hot care 
How the Times, or you esteem me ! 
For those toys that make you gay, 
A re but Play Gaines for a Day ! 
And when Nature craves ber d, te, 
I, as brave shall be, as you ! 

ERE PHIL'ARET did give his Song an ending. 
To which the Nymphs so seriously attending 
About him sate, as if they had supposed 
He still had somewhat more fo be disclosed. 
And, well they know hot, whether did belong 
Most praise unto the Shepherd, or his Song. 
For though, they must confess, they often hear 
Those Lays, which much more deeply learned are ; 
Yet, when they well considered of the place, 
With how unlikely (in their thought) it was 
To give them hope of hearing of such a Strain ; 
Or that so young, and so obscure a Swain 
Should such a matchless Beauty's favour get ; 
And know her worth so well, to sing of it : 
They wondered at it. And some thus surmised 
That He a greater man was, so disguised ; 



G. Wither.'] a622._1 '2r S T R .E S S OF I H Ir L'A RE TE. 489 

Or else that She, whom he so much had praised, 
Some goddess was, that those his Measures raised, 
Of purpose, to that rare attainèd height 
In Envy's, and presuming Art's despite. 
But whilst they, musing with themselves, bethought 
Which way, out of this Shepherd fo have wrought 
What Nymph this Fait One was? and where she lived ? 
Lo, at that very instant, there arrived 
Three men that, by their habits, Courtiers seemed : 
For, though obscure, by some, he is esteemed, 
Among the Greatest : who do hot contemn, 
In his retirèd walks, to visit him ; 
And there, they taste those pleasures of the mind, 
Which they can, nor in Court, nor City find. 
Some news or message, these new guests had brought him ; 
And to make haste away, it seems, besought him: 
Forinstantly he rose ! And that his nurture 
Might hot be taxed by a rude departure, 
Himself excusing; he, those Nymphs did pray 
His noble friends might bring him on their way. 
" Who, as it seems," said he, " were therefore corne, 
That they might wait upon him to their home." 
So, with their favour, he departed thence ; 
And, as they thought, to meet her Excellence, 
Of whom he sung. Yet many deem that this 
But an Idea of a Mistress is : 
/3ecause to none, he yet had deigned the telling 
Her proper name ; nor shown her place of dwelling I 



I-G. Wither. 
490 .F   
When he was gone, a Lady, from among 
Thosc Nymphs, took up his lute, and sang this Song. 

THE NYMPH'S SONO. 
ENTLE Swaiz, ! Good seed befall thee . 
And in love still ros2ber thou ! 
Fu/ure Times shall halpy, call thce ! 
Though thou lie neglected now. 
Virt«ds loyers shall comma»d thee ! 
Azd perpetual faine attcnd thce ! 
Ha2bpy are thcse woody mom, tains, 
t» whose shadows, thou dost bide ! 
And as hably, are those fountaius 
By whose murm:rs, thou dost 'bide ! 
For Contents are hem excelling, 
More than in a Prh,ce's dwelling. 
These, fhy flocks do clothing bring thce ! 
And thy Jood, out of the fidds : 
Pretty songs, the birds do sing thee ! 
Swcet pcrfmcs the meadow yidds : 
And what more is worth the seeing ? 
Heaven and Earth, thy lbroslhect behg ! 
None cornes hither, who dcnies thee 
Thy contentments, for deslhite ; 
Neither any that envies thce, 
That whereh thou dost delight. 
But ail hally things are meant thce ! 
And whatever may content thee! 
Thy Affection, Reason measures, 
And distempers noue it feeds : 
Still so harmless are thy plcasures, 
That no othcr's grief it breeds. 



O. Witer.1 -/][ISTRESS OF .PItIL'ARETE 49I 

And if night beget thee sorrow ; 
Seldom stays it till the morrow. 

IVhy do foolish ncn so vainly 
Seek eontcntment in their store ? 
Since thcy may perceive so llainly 
Thou art rich, in bcing loor ! 
And that they are vexed about if ; 
tVhilst thou merry are without it ! 

IVhy are idle brains devising 
How high titles may be gained ! 
Since, by those poor toys despising, 
Thou hast higher things obtaincd ! 
For the ma who scorns to crave them, 
Greater is than thcy that bave them. 

If ail men could taste that sweetness 
Thou dost, in thy meanness, know ! 
Kings would be fo seek, where greatness 
And their honours to bestow. 
For if such contcnt wo»tld breed them, 
As they would hot think they need them. 

A nd if those, who so aspiring 
To the Court preferments be, 
Knew how worthy the desiring 
Those things are, enjoyed by thee ! 
Wealth and titles would, hereaft«r, 
Subjects be for scorn and laughtcr. 

He that Courtly styles affected, 
Should a May-Lord's honour have ; 
He that heaps of IVealth collectcd, 
Shoald be counted as a slave : 
And the man, with few'st things ctmbered, 
With the noblest should be mtmbered. 



492 

Thou, their folly hast discerned ; 
That teglect thy mind and thee ! 
And fo slight them, thou hast learned, 
Of what title e'ev they be 
That, o more with thee obtaimth ; 
Than with them, thy meanness gaineth. 
AII their riches, honouvs, #leasuves, 
Poov uworthy triflcs seem ; 
If comavèd with thy tveasures ! 
And do mcrit no esteem : 
For thcy, frite COlltellS rovide thee, 
A nd fro» them, can no»re divide thce. 
lçTtether thralld, or exilèd ; 
lVhetlter #oor, or rich thou be I 
lVhcther prais?d, or rcvilèd ; 
Not a rush if is lo thee I 
This, nor that, thy test doth win thee ; 
But the Mind, which is within thee ! 
tcn, O, why so madly dote we 
On those things that us o'erload ? 
IVI no more their vaimtess noie 'e, 
But still make of them a god ? 
For, Mas, they still deceive us ; 
A nd, iu gatcst need, they leave ts  
Thcrefore bave the Fates rovidcd 
Il'cil, thou happy Swain ! #r thee  
That may'st here, so #r divided 
From the worM's distractions be ! 
Thee, diste»$er let them never ; 
But ùt pcace continue ever ! 
In these lonely groves, enjoy thou 
That contentment here beflsz [ 
And thy l»ours, so pleased, en@l W thou 
Yill the latest glass be run ! 

G. Wither. 



From a fortune so assured, 
By no temptings, be allured ! 

Much good do 't them, with their glories, 
IVho, i» Courts of Prbtces dwell ! 
IVe bave read in antique storics 
How some rose, and how they fell. 
And 'ris worthy well the heeding, 
" There's like end, where's like proceeding.'" 

Be thou still, in thy affection, 
To thy noble Mistress, true .t 
Let ber never-matched perfection 
Be the saine unto thy view .t 
And let never other Beauty 
Make thee fail in love or duty ! 

For if tho,t shalt hot estrangèd, 
From tly course profcssed, be ; 
But remain, for aye, unchangèd, 
Nothing shall bave power on thee ! 
Those that slight thee now, shall love thce ; 
And, in spire of spire, approve thee ! 

So those virtues now neglected ; 
To be more esteemed, will corne : 
Yea, hose toys so much af[ected, 
Many shall be wooèd from. 
A ud lhe Golden Age, deplored, 
Shall, by some, be hought restored. 

Hus sang the Nymph ! so rarely-well inspired, 
That ail the hearers, her brave Strains admired ; 
And (as I heard by some that there attended) 
When this ber Song was finished, ail was ended. 



494 

M ['ostscr#t. 

F ^v carp, for that my younger Times 
Brought forth such idle fruit, as these slight 
rhymes, 
It is no matter, so they do hOt swear 
That they so iii employed, never were. 
Whilst their Desires, perhaps, they looselier spent; 
I gave my heats of youth this better vent : 
And, oft, by writing thus, the blood bave tamed, 
Which some, with reading wanton_ Lays enflamed. 
Nor care I, though their censure some bave past, 
Because my Songs exceed the Fidler's Last: 
For do they think that I will make my Measures 
The longer, or the shorter, for their pleasures ? 
Or maire, or curtalise my free Invention, 
Because Fools weary are, of their attention ! 
No! Let them know, who do their length condemn; 
I Make to please myself, and hot for them ! 



495 
.t:" o'"  "  ' " I 

A 

MISCELLANY 

OF 

EPIqRAM, ONNET, JPITAPH, AND UCH OTHER 
rdrERES, 1$ WERE FOUJ',ID WRITTEN WITH 
THE t30EM ,FOREqoINq. 

Of tke Znvcntiou of the 2Vine [uses. 

HE acts of Ages past doth CLIO write. 
The Tragedies', MELPOMENE'S delight. 
THALIA is with Comedies contented. 
EUTERPE, first, the Shepherd"s Pipe in- 
vented. 
TERPSICHORE doth Song and Lute apply. 
• -'- Dancing ERATO round Geometry. 
CALLIOPE on loving Verses dwells. 
The secrets of the stars, URANIA tells. 
POLYHYMNIA, with choice words, the speech doth trim 
And great #tPOLLO shares with ail of them. 
Those thrice three Feminines, we Muses call ; 
But that one Masculine is worth them all! 



496 A MISCELLAI¥OF EPIGRAMS, SONNETS, E 'wi'h«r't x6**. 

Of t/te )Labours of t-[excuzEs. 
I.R.S.T, he the strong Nemœean lion 
"1 he many-headed Hydra, next, o erthrew. 
The Erymanthian Boar he, thirdly, foils, 
Then of his golden horns, the Stag he spoils. 
The foul Stymphalian birds he, fifthly, frayed : 
Next, he, the Queen of Amazons o'erswayed. 
Then cleansed AuGIas' stalls, with filth so full 
And, eighthly, tamed the untamed I3ull. 
He slew proud DIOMEI)ES with his horses. 
From triple GERION, his rich beard he forces. 
He slew the Dragon for the fruit of gold : 
And made black CERBERUS the day behold. 

eing left 3y a Gentleman in his dining-room, wkere 
was nothing 3ut a J[aik of England to entertain 
hbn ; he thus l«rned it into Verse. 

AIR England, in the bosom of the seas, 
Amid her tvo and fifty Provinces, 
Sits like a glorious Empress, whose rich throne 
Great Nymphs of Honour corne to wait upon. 
First, in the height of bravery, appears 
Kent, East and South and Middle Saxon Shires ; 
Next Surrey, Berkshire and Southampton get, 
V¢ith Dorset, V¢ilton, and rich Somerset. 
Then Devon, with the Cornish promontory, 
Glou'ster and \Vorc'ster, fair Sabrina's glory ! 
Then Salop, Suffolk, Norfolk large and fair : 
Oxford and Cambridge, that thrice learned pair! 
Then Lincoln, Derby, Yorkshire, Nottingham, 
Northampton, \Varwick, Stafford, Buckingham, 
Chester and Lancaster with herds well stored, 
Huntington, Hertford, Rutland, Hereford. 
Then Princely Durham, Bedford, Leic'ster and 



ç,.wither.'l EPITAPHS, AND SUCH OTIIER VERSES. 497 
 6.A 

Northumber-, Cumber-, and cold Westmoreland. 
Brave English Shires! With whom, loved equally, 
Welsh Monmouth, Radnor, and Montgomery 
Add all the glory, to her train, they can : 
So doth Glamorgan, Brecknock, Cardigan, 
Carnarvon, Denbigh, Merionethshire, 
With Anglesea, xvhich o'er the sea doth rear 
Her lofty head. And the first, though last, 
Flint, Pembroke, and Caermarthen might be placed. 
For all of these, unto their power, maintain 
Their mistress, England, with a royal train. 
Yea, for Supporters, at each hand hath she, 
The Wight and Man, that two brave islands be. 

From these, I, to the Scottish Nymphs had journeyed ; 
But that my friend vas back again returned : 
\Vho having kindly brought me to his home, 
Alone did leave me in his dining-room ; 
Vhere I was fain (and glad I had the hap !) 
To beg an entertainment of his Map. 

An Epitaph ,¢on the righ! virtuous Lad9,, 
the Lady S c o 2"r. 

ET none suppose this relic of the Just 
Was here wrapped up, to perish in the dust ! 
No, like best fruits, her rime she fully stood, 
Then, being grown in Faith, and ripe in Good 
(V¢ith stedfast hope that She, another day, 
Should rise with CHRIST), with Death, here down she lay. 
And, that each part which Her in life had graced, 
Preserved might be, and meet again at last; 
The Poor, the ,Vorld, the Heavens, and the Grave, 
Her Altos, her Praise, ber Soul, her Body have. 
2va. GA. IV. 



98 A 1 ISCELLANY OF EI'IGRAMS, SONNETS, [_I-G" Withee.? 

ln 'ilal upon a lF'omat and ber Child buried 
lo'etkcr it the saine Grave. 

ENEATH this marble stone doth lie 
The subject of Death's tyranny; 
A Mothe, who, in this close tomb, 
Sleeps with the issue of her womb. 
Though cruelly inclined was He. 
And, with the Fruit, shook down the Tree ; 
Yet was his cruelty in vain ! 
For Tree and Fruit shall spring again. 

M Christmas CaroL 

0, Now, is corne our joyful'stfcast ; 
.Each room with ivy Icavcs is d,'cst ; 
A ud eve post, with holly. 
Though som churls at out mirth repine  
Round your foreheads, garlands twine ! 
Drown sorrow in a cup of wiue ; 
And let us all be mer / 

Now, all out neighbours' chimneys smoke, 
And Christmas blocks be burning ; 
Thcir ovens, thcy with baked meats choke, 
And all their s13its are turning. 
Without the door, let sorrow lie ! 
And if, for cold, it hap to die ; 
We'll bury if in a Christmas lhi, 
And evermore be merry ! 



.XVither.']. ,622.3 EPITAPIIS, AND SUCH OTHER VERSES. 499 

Now, cvery lad is wondrots frira, 
A nd no man minds his labor ; 
O¢r lasses have ïbrovidcd 
A baglbilbe and a tabor. 
Young men and maids, and girls and bvys, 
Give life to one another's joys ; 
A nd yo, anon, shall by the noise, 
Perceive that thcy are mcrry. 

Ranking misers, now, do slbaring shn ; 
Thcir Hall, of .»usic soundcth ! 
A nd dogs thcnce, with whole shoMders n:n ; 
ço all things there aboundcth. 
The country folk thcntsclvcs advancc ; 
For Crowdy-Mutton's corne out of France ! 
.,4 nd yAcI" shall Ibilbc, and .ILI shall dance, 
.,4 nd all the lown be merry. 

2VED SwASn hath ]ctchcd his Bands from lbawn, 
.And ail his best appaml ; 
Brisk NELI bath bought a R2.ff of Law, 
IVith droppings of the ba'rcl : 
And those that hardly, all the ycar, 
ttad bread fo eat, or rags fo wcar, 
I¥ill bave both clothes and dainty lave ; 
And all thc day be merr.7. 

Now #oor men, to the stices, 
I¥ith calbons ntake thcir arrants ." 
gtnd if they hap to fail of these, 
Tley lblagm thcm with their warrants. 
But, now, they feed them with good cheer, 
A nd what they want, thcy take in bcer; 
For Christmas comes but once a year! 
tt nd tloen they shall be m¢rry. 



5oo 

G. W|ther 
A ISCELLAIYOF EPIGRAMS, OI'IETS, L  £.- 

Good farmcrs in the country, nurse 
Thc poor that else wcre ««ndone ; 
Some [and[ords spcnd their money worse 
On lust and prMe in London. 
Therc, the roist'rers they play : 
Drab and Dice their lands awçy ; 
lVhich may be ours, anothcr day, 
A nd therorc lct's bz ,ney ! 

The client now his suit forbears, 
Thc prisoner's hcart is eased. 
Thc dcbtor drinks away his cares, 
,4 nd, for the lime, is lblcased. 
Though others' purses be more fat ; 
Why should we pine, or gricve thcrcat ? 
Hang Sorrow ! Care will kill a cat ! 
A nd thercfore lct's be mer ! 

Hark, how thc wags abroad do calL 
Each other forth go rambling ! 
A non, you'II see them in the Hall, 
For mtts and alcs sc [r]ambling. 
Hark, how thc roofs with laughter sound 
A non, thcy'll thbtk the bouse goes round 
For they, the cdlar's depth have found, 
A nd, thcre, thcy wi(l be mcrry. 

The wenches, with their wassail bowls, 
A bout the streets are singing; 
The boys are corne to catch the owls ; 
The Wild Mare in is bringing : 
Out kitchen boy hath broke his box  
A td fo the dealing of an ox, 
Otr honest neîghbo,trs corne by flocks  
And, here, they will be merry. 



,G. Wither.-] 
2 ,622.J EPITAPHS, AND SUCII OTHER VERSES. 5OI 

Now Kings and Queens, ihoor shcc2hcots bave, 
A ml mate with evcrybody; 
The honest, now, may play the Knave 
A nd wisc mcn #lay at Noddy. 
Some youlhs will now a Mumming go, 
Some othcrs play at Rovland-hoe, 
And twenty othcr gameboys moe 
Because thcy will be merry. 

Thcn, whcrcfore, in these mcrry days 
ShoMd we, I p'ay ! bc duller ? 
2Vo .t let us sing some Roundclays 
To make our mirth the fitl&r  
And whil'st, th Dired, we sing 
Lct ail the strcets with echocs ring 
Woods and Hills, and cverything, 
ear witns we are merry ! 

./tri Eibitapl 2#on the Porter of a Prison. 

"t} EIE lie the bones of him, that was, of late, 
'l A churlih Porter of a Prison gate ! 
Death, many an evening, at his lodging knocked ; 
But could not take him, for the door was locked! 
Yet, at a tavern, late one night, he found him ; 
And getting him into the cellar, drowned him. 
On which the xvorld (that still the worst is thinking) 
Reports abroad that " He vas killed with drinking ! " 
Yet let no Prisoner, whether thief or debtor, 
Rejoice, as if his fortune were the better ! 
Their sorrov's likely to be ne'er the shorter ! 
"J'he Warden lives ! though Death hath took the Porter. 



5o2 A I{ISCELLANY OF EPIGRAMS, SONNETS, [-G. Wither.. 
A Sonnet on a Stolct liss. 
] Ox gentle sleep hath closèd up those eyes, 
kNl ,X hich waking, kept my boldest thoughts in a,ve ;. 
J And ffee access unto that sweet lip lies, 
From whence I long, the rosy breath to draw. 
Methinks, no wrong it were, if I should steal 
From those two melting rubies, one poor kiss [ 
None sees the theft, that would the thefl reveal  
Nor rob I her, of ought which she can miss ! 
Nay, should I twenty kisses take away, 
There would be little sign I had done so [ 
Vhy then should I, this robbery delay ? 
O, she may wake  and therewith angry grow  
Vell, if she do : l'll back restore that one ; 
And twenty hundred thousand more for loan  

.,-q** E_#itak uoTt A B x 4   . G o o » F  z z o iv, 
a commou Alehouse hululer. 

Ew.II, thou look hot who hereunder lies! 
nless thou long to xveep away thine eyes. 
"I his man, as sorrowful report doth tell us, 
\Vas, when he lived, the Prince of all Good Fellovs. 
That day he died, it cannot be believed 
How, out of reason, ail the Alewives grieved. 
And what abominable lamentation 
They ruade at Black Boy, and at Sahttation. 
They howled and cried, and, ever more, among, 
Tl:is was the burden of their woful Song. 
Il'cil, go thy ways ! thy like hath never bee ! 
Nor shall thy match agai be ever see, ! 
For, out of doubt, now lhou art dead and gone, 
There's many a Taphouse will be qttite undone .t 
A nd Death, by takhtg thee, did thettt more scatl 
Than yet, the Alehouse Project donc them hath. 



G. Wither.-] EPITAPIIS, AND SUCII OTIIER VERSES. 503 

Lo, such a one but yesterday, was he; 
But nov, he much is altered, you do see ! 
Since he came hither, he hath left his riot ; 
Yea, changed both his company and his diet ; 
And, nov, so civil lies, that, to your thinking, 
He neither for an Alehouse cares, nor drinking. 

qn E;bita;bh upon a Gcntlcwoman who had 
forctdd the thne of hcr dcath. 

ER, who, beneath this stone, consuming ries, 
Fol" manv virtues, we might memorise ; 
But, molt of ail, the praise deserveth she 
In making of her words and deeds agree. 
For she so truly kept the word she spake ; 
As that with Death, she promise would hot break. 
" I shall," quoth she, "be dead, belote the raid 
Of such a month!" And, as she said, she did. 

An Eiitah on a Child, son to Sh- lU. H. K'z G zz T. 

ERE lies, within a cabinet of stone, 
The dear remainder of a Pretty One. 
Who did in wit, his years so far out-pass ; 
His parents' wonder, and their joy he was : 
And by his face, you might have deemèd him 
To be on earth, some heavenly Cherubim. 
Six years with life he laboured ; then deceast 
To keep the Sabbath of eternal rest: 
So that, which many thousand able men 
Are labouring for till threescore years and ten ; 
This blessed child attainèd to, ere seven : 
And, now, enjoys it xvith the saints of heaven. 



504 A I{ISCELLANY OF EPIGRAMS, SONNETS, 

Ow, Young Man ! Thy days and thy glorics aplcar 
Like sunshine and blossoms in Spring of the ycar ; 
Thy z, zǫour of body, thy spirits, thy wit, 
Are .bcfect, and sound, and untroublcd yet. 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love; 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above ! 

Mis[cnd hot a mor:ing, so excellent clear ! 
Ncver, for over, was happhcss hem ! 
Thy noontidc of lire bath but little delight ; 
A d sorrows on sorrows willfollow at night ! 
Now then, 0 now then,if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 

That Strength, and those bcautics that grace thee to-day ; 
To-morrow may lerish, and vanish away .t 
Thy Wealth, or thy Plcasurcs, or Fricnds that now 
May waste, or deceive, or be traitors fo thee ! 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 

Thy joints are yet nimblc, thy sincws unslack ! 
And ma«row, unwasted, doth strengtken thy back ! 
Thy Youth from diseascs, breserveth the brain ; 
And blood, zvith frce lbassagc, iblumlbs every vcin ! 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 



«wlt6eç.7x62,.j EPITAPHS, AND SUClI OTHER VERSES. 505 

But, trust me ! it will hot for cver be so ! 
Those A rms, that are migMy, shall fecblcr grow ! 
And those Legs, soroudly supporting thce now, 
IIïth age, or diseases will staggcr and bow ! 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 

Thcn all those rare Featnres, now graceful in thee, 
Shall, lbloughcd with Time's furrows, quite ruind be 
And thcy who admircd attd lovcd thce so ranch, 
Shall loathe, or forgct thou hadst ever bcen such ! 
Now then, O now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, O mind thou, thy Maker above 

Those trcsses of Hah', which thy youth do adorn, 
lVill look like the mcads in a winterly morn ; 
And whcre red and white intermixcd did grow, 
ull lbaleness, a deadly Complexion will show ! 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 

That Forchead imbcrions, whcreon we ow vicw 
A smoothness and whiteness, enamcllcd with bh«e, 
Il'iii lose that lberfection, which yoftth now maintains 
_A nd change it for hollowncss, wrinklcs, attd stains ! 
Now then, O now then, if safety thou love; 
Mind thou, O mind thou, thy Maker abovc 

Those Ears, thou with music didst off entcrtain, 
21 nd charm wilh so many a dclicae strain ; 
May miss of those pl«asures whcrewith thcy are fcd. 
A nd nevcr hear Song morc, whcn yo«th is orne flcd 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 



506 A I[ISCELLANY OF EPIGRAMS, S.ONNETS, 
[ .v 162- 

Thosc Eycs, which so many, so much did admire, 
And with strange affections set thousands on tire ; 
Shut up in that darkncss which Agc will constrain, 
Shali never sec mortal, no, nevcr aain ! 
Nov then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above ! 

Those Lips, whe,'con Beauty so fully discloses 
The colour and sweetness of rubies and roscs ; 
Instead of that hue, will ghastliness wear : 
And none shall belicvc what pcrfcction was thcre ! 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 

Thy Tecth, that stood firmly, like fiearls in a row, 
Shall rottcn, attd scattercd, disordcrly grow ! 
Thy Mouth, whosc proportion, carth's wonder was thought 
Shall robbcd of that swectncss, be lbrizè.d at no2tght. 
Nov then, 0 nov then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 

Th.at Gait and those Gestures, that wht fhce such grace,. 
lVill turn to a feeblc and staggerinx lbace ; 
And thou, that o'er mountains «an'st nimbly to-d«y ; 
Shall stmnblc af cvery rub in lhe way ! 
Nov then, 0 noxv then, if safety thou love ; 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above ! 

By thcse im[erfections, Old A ge will prevail. 
Thy marrow, thy sinews, and spirits will fail ! 
A nd nothing is left thec, whcn those are once s15cnt , 
To give, or thysclf, or another content ! 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
Mind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 



6. Wi,her.-1 E P 
. 62.] ITAPIIS, AND SUCI[ OTIIER VERSES. 50 

Those Fancies that hdl thee with Dreams of Delight, 
lVill troublc thy quiet, the co»oEortlcss night .t 
A nd thon that now slecpcst thy troubles away ; 
Shalt hear how each cockcrcl gives warning of day .t 
Nov then, O now then, if safety thou love ; 
lXlind thou, O mind thou, thy lXlaker above ! 

Then Thou, that art yet to thousands so dear, 
Of ail, shalt dcspised or ncglcctcd appear ! 
lI'hich, whcn thott bcrcciv'st, though now lhlcasan! it be, 
Thy life will be gricvous and loathsome to thee ! 
Now then, O now then, if safety thou love ; 
llind thou, O mind thou, thy Maker above t 

That Lust, which thy youlh can so hardly forcgo, 
Will lcavc thce ! and Icave thcc Rchcnlance and ll'oe .t' 
A nd then., in thy folly no joy thott canst have ; 
Nor hope othcr rcst than a comfortlcss grave ! 
Now then, O now then, if safety thou love ; 
lXlind thou, O mind thou, thy lXlaker above ! 

For next, shall thy Breath be quitc taken away ; 
Thy Flesh turned to dust, and lhat dust tm'ncd to clay ? 
And lhose, thott hast lovd, attd sharcd of lhy store ; 
Shall leave thce, forger thee, and mind thce no more .t 
Now then, O now then, if safety thou love ; 
lind thou, O mind thou, thy Maker above ! 

And yct, if in rime thou -rcmcmbcr hot this, 
Thc slcndcrcst part of thy sorrow it is .t 
Thy Sottl, lo a torture more fearful, shatl wcnd, 
Hath ever, and ever, and never an end. 
Now then, 0 now then, if safety thou love 
iIind thou, 0 mind thou, thy Maker above 



508 A MISCELLANY OF EIIGRAMS, SONNETS, LGWh:.: 

HEN brç¢ht II-IOïBUS af his test, 
Was repos.d in thc Wcst ; 
And the chcerful daylight gone, 
Drew unwelcome darkness on : 
Niiht, hcr blackncss wrapt about 
And within, "twas as without 

But such visions, me diseased, 
As in vain that sleep I scizcd ; 
For I slcc[ing Fancies had, 
Which, yct waking, make me sad. 
Some can slce[ away their sorrow ! 
But mine doubles cvcry morrow. 

lValkin to a 2bleasant grove, 
Whcre I «scd fo think of love, 
I, mcthought, a place did view 
lVhcrcin FLORA'S riches grew; 
Irimrosc, hyacinth, and lilies, 
Cowslips, vi'lets, daffodillies. 



G. Wither."lr 622.3 EPIGRAMS AND SUCH OTHER VERSES. 

Thcrc, a fototlah, close beside, 
I, a malchlcss Beattty slSied. 
So she lay as if she slelt , 
But ntttch grief, her waking kept. 
A nd she had no softer pillow 
Than the hard roof of a willow. 

Down her cheeks, thc tcars did flow, 
Which a gricvdd hcart did show ; 
Hcr fidr cyes, the earth bcholdinx, 
A nd ber arms, themselvcs enfolding ; 
She (her Passion fo bctokcn), 
Sighed as if hcr hcart were broken. 

509, 

So much grief, mcthought, she shcwcd, 
That nty sorrow, if rcnewed : 
But when, ncarcr ber I wcnt, 
If increased my discontent ; 
For a genlle N.ynt,bh she proved, 
Who, me (long *tnk;tovan) had lovcd. 

Straight on me she fixcd ber look ; 
lI'hich, a decl5 imlSression took, 
A nd " Of all that lire," quoth she, 
 Thou art welcontest lo nie .t ,, 
Then (misdottbling lo be blamèd), 
Thus shc spake, as half ashamèd. 

"Thee ! unknown, I long affectcd 
A nd, as long, in vain exbected, 
For I had a holhcful thought 
Thou would'st crave, what othcrs sought .r 
A nd I, for thy sake .t bave stayed 
Many wanlon Springs, a Maid." 



:5 IO A IIISCELLAN¥ OF EPIGRAMS, SONNETS, :C. I-G. withe, 

" Still, whcn any wood me, 
Thcy rcncwcd the thotçht of thee ! 
And, in hope thou would'st bave tried I 
Thcir affcctions, I dcnicd. 
I3ut a lovcr forccd upon roc 
13y my fricnds, bath now undone roc." 

" Whal I waking, dared hot shcw; 
In a drcam, thou, now, dost know ! 
13nf fo bcltcr my estate, 
l\row, alas, if is too latc ! 
A nd I, both awakc and sleqbing, 
\'ow consume my youth with wcclbing.'" 

çomcwhat, thcn, I would bave said ; 
But rcplyings were dcnied. 
For, mcthmght, when sp:ak I wouM, 
Arot a word bring forth I could : 
And as I, a Mss was taking ; 
That I lost too, by awaking. 

l II I L'A R]TI. 



THE 

KING's 

MAJESTY's 
Declaration to 

Subjects, 
CONCFPNINCJ 
lawful Sports to 
be used. 

LONDON: 
Printed by BONHAM NORTON and JoqN 
Deputy Printers for the King's most 
Excellent Majesty. 
M.D C.X VIII. 

BI LL» 



[The text of thls Monument of State Folly (the real drift of which was 
simply to affront the Puritans) is taken from a copy of the original 
edition in the 13odleian Library, Oxford. 
We have also giv.en at ,/,. 57-8, the title and additional matter of 
its reprint by CARLES I. in I633.] 



I3y the King. 

HEREAS upon Our return, the last year out 
of Scotland, We did publish Our Pleasure 
touching the recreations of Out people in 
those parts, under Out hand: for some 
causes Us thereunto moving, VVe have 
thought good to command these Out 
Directions, then given in Lancashire, with 
' a fev words thereunto added and most 
appliable to these parts of Out Realms, to be published to all 
Out subjects. 
Whereas We did justly, in Out prog, ress through Lan- 
cashire, rebuke some Puritans and precise people, and took 
order that the like unlawful carriage should hot be used by 
any of them hereafter, in the prohibiting and unlawful punish- 
ing of Out good people for using their lawful recreations and 
honest exercises upon Sundays and other Holy Days, a[ter 
the afternoon Sermon or Service ; \Ve nov find, that two 
sorts of people wherewith that country [cou»lty] is mueh in- 
fested (\Ve mean Papists and Puritans) bave maliciously 
traduced and caluminated those Ourjust and honourable pro- 
ceedings. And therefore lest Out reputation might, upon the 
one side. though innocently, have some aspersion laid upon 
it; and that, upon the other part, Out good people in that 
country be misled bv the mistaking and misinterpretation or 
Out meaning: \Ve have therefore thought good herebv to 
clear and make Out Pleasure to be manifested to all Out 
good people in those parts. 
It is true, that at Our first entrv to this Crown and 
lï.v«. G.I:. IV. 33 



54 TIIE FIRST EDITION OF [ Ki,J,,..4 lXlay ,6,8o 

Kihgdom, We were informed, and that too truly, that Our 
Cour.ty of Lancashire abounded more in Popish Recusants 
than any county in England; and thus hath still con- 
tinued since, to our great regret, with little amendment, 
save that now, of late, in our last riding through Our said 
County, \Ve find, both by the report of the Judges, and 
.of the Bishops of that diocese, that there is some amend- 
ment now daily beginning, which is no small contentment to 
Us. 
The report of this growing amendment amongst them, 
ruade Us the more sorry, wben, with Our own ears, \Ve heard 
the general complaint of Out people, that they were barred 
from all lawful recreation and exercise upon the Sunday's 
afteïnoon, after the ending of all Divine Service. \Vhich can- 
not but produce two evils. The one, the hindering of the 
conversion of many whom their priests will take occasion 
hereby to vex : persuading them that " no honest mirth or 
recreation is lawful or tolerable in Our Religion!" which 
cannot but breed a great discontentment in Our people's 
bearts; especially of such as are, peradventure, upon the 
poirA of turning. Ïhe other inconvenience is, that this pro- 
hibition barreth the common and meaner sort of people from 
using sucb exercises as ma 3" make their bodies more able for 
war, when We, or Our Successors shall have occasion to use 
them: and in place thereof sers up filthy tiplings and 
drunkenness, and breeds a number of idle and discontented 
speecbes in their alehouses. For when shall the common 
people have leave to exercise, if not upon the Sundavs and 
Holy Days ? seeing they must apply their labour, and win 
their living in ail working days! 
Our express pleasure therefore is, That hc L«ws of Out 
Kingdom, and Canons of Out Chm'ch bc a.ç well observcd in that 
County, as in all othcr îblaces of this Or Kingdom. And, on the 
othcr îbart, that no lawfld rec'calion shall bc barrcd to out .ood 
2bcople, which shall wt tcd to thc breach of 0, aforesaid Laws, 
and Canons of Out Chm'ch. 
\Vbich to express more particularly, 
Out Pleasure is, That thc Bishop and all other inferior 
Chm'chnm iCler'], and Churchwardcns sh,dl, for thcir lba'ts, be 
c«rcfM ad dHigcnt, both to instrct thc ignorant, and covincc 
and rcform thcm that are mislcd in religion, îbrcscntig [i.e., re- 



OEingJames.] T It.E .t 0 0 .h" O l  S .P 01-¢ ï s. 515 
-4 lay 

porting for punishment] them that will hot coloEorm thcmseh,cs, 
but obstinately stand out fo Out udges and ustices : whom, 
lVe likewise command fo put the law i due cxecutiot» against 
them. 
Our Pleasure likewise is, That the Bishop of that diocese take 
the like sttait ordct with all the Ptritats amt Prccisians withi 
the saine : eithcr constraining them to conform thcmsdves, or fo 
leave the counto,, accorditg to the Laws of Out Kingdom and 
• atons of Out Church. And so to strike equally on both hands 
.against the Contemners of Our Authority, and Adversaries of 
Our Church. 
And as for Our good people's lawful recreation; Our 
Pleasure likewise is, That aftcr the end of Divine Service, Out 
.good De@le be tot disturbcd, lcttcd, or discouraged from any law- 
ful recreation, such as Dancing (cithcr men or womeO , A rchcry for 
net. Leaping, Vadting, or any othcr sttch harmless rccreatiots ; 
• wrfrom having ofMay Gamcs, ll'hitsun _-1 lcs, and Morris Danccs; 
and the scttizg .up of May Polcs, altd othcr sports thcrcwith «tsed : 
so as the saine be had i» due and convenicit tiret, without impcdi- 
ment or ncglcct of Divilw Scrvicc. And, That womc» shall bave 
lcave to carry rushcs to the church for the dccoring kdecorating] of 
_it, accordig to thcir old custom. 
But vithal, 11Wdo hcre accourir still as prohibitcd, all unlaz@d 
gaines, to be tscd upot Sudays only ; as Bear and Bull baitings, 
Intcrludes : and, at all timcs, i» the mcaner sort of Dcople by Law 
lrohibited. Bowling. 
And, likewise, ll'e bar from this bencfit mtd liberty, all s:tcl, 
known Recusants, cithcr mcn or wo.tcn, as will abstai» from 
coming fo Church or Divinc Scrvice : being, therefore, unworthy 
of any lawful recreation after the said Service, that will not 
first corne to the Church, and serve GOD. 
Prohibiting, i» like sort, thc said rccrcatio» to any that, thougl» 
.conforme [conformable i» Rclçion, are hot prescrit in the Church, 
at thc Scrvice of GOD, bcfore thcir F, oit,¢ to the said rccr«ations. 
Our Pleasure likevise is, That they to whom it bclon.gcth in 
Office, shall Drcsezt, and sharly punish all such, as in abuse of 
this Our libcrty, will use thcse exer«ises befoï thc cnds of all Divinc 
Scrvices for that dal,. 
And \Ve, likewise, straitly command, That cvc O' person, shall 
'esort to his own Parish Church fo hear Divinc Scrvicc ; and eacl» 
Parish, by itsclf, to «tse thc said recrcation aficr Divine Scrvicc. 



56 T r.r 2ï . o o li" OF S I' O R T S o [ KingJame._4 Maï',6,8. 

.Prohibiting likewise, Any offensive u,e@ons fo be carricd or uscÆ 
the said times of recrcation. 
And Our Pleasure is, That this Out Declaration shall be lh«b- 
lishcd by ordcr ri'oto the Bishop o[ the diocese, through ail the- 
Parish Churches ; and that both Onr ffudges of Onr Circuit, and 
Out ffustices of Ont Peace be ioEormcd thereof. 
Given at Our Manor of Greemvich, the four and twentîeth 
day of May [1618] in the sixteenth vear of Our reign of 
England, France, and Ireland ; and of }cotland, the one and. 
fiftieth. 
GOD save the King! 



THE 

KING's 

MAJESTY's 

D E c L A R A T I O N to His 

Subjects, 
CONCERN 

ING 

lawful S P 0 RTS to 

be used, 

Imprinted at L 0 N D 0 N by 
lotlta" Balelt, Printer to the King's most excellent 
Majesty: and by the Assigns of JoI Bai.t. 

M.D C.XXXIII. 



518 T o T 
King Charle.q 
• x8 Oct. x633. 

[CHARLES 1.'s Preface and Conclusion.] 
.IUR dear Fa/her, of blcsscd memory, i his retum 
from Scotland, coming through Lancashire found that 
his subjects were debarred frm lawful rccreations upor 
Sundays, aller Eveninff Prayers ended, and upo 
I Holy Days : attd he prt;dently considcrcd, that ifthese 
rimes were takcn ri'o» thcm, the meaner sort, who labour hard all 
the week, should bave no recreations at all o «efrcsh their spirits. 
And, aftcr his retm'n, he firther saw that his loyal subjects 
all othcr lmrts of his kin,¢dom did surfer in thc sa.te kind, thouflt 
perhaps hot fit. thc saine dcgree. A nd did thcrcforc, in. his Princcly 
wisdom, publish a Declaration to all his loving Subjects con- 
cerning the lawful Sports to be used at such rimes ; which was 
brintcd and 2bublished, by his royal commandment, in the ycar I618 
in thc tcnour which hercaftcr followcth. 
Ow, out of a likc lious care for the service of GOD,. 
and for supprcssing of any humours that oppose 
Trttth and for the  case, comfort, attd recreation of 
out ell dcscrvinff people : lI'e do ratify and tmblish 
this Ottr blcsscd fathcr s Declaration. The rather 
because, of latc, in some comttics of Out khgdom, lVe fnd that, 
«mdcr prctcnce of taking away abuscs, there hath bccn a general 
Forbidding, hot only of ordinary mcctings, but of thc Fcasts of 
thc Dcdication of the Churchcs, commonly callcd ll'akcs. 
Now, Oto, cxprcss lVill attd Plcasure is, that thcse Feasts, witk 
othcrs, shall bc observcd ; and that Out usticcs of the Peace, i 
their sevcral divisions, shall look fo it, both, that all disorders,. 
thcre, may be 15revcnted or lmnished ; attd that all neighbourhood 
at,d fi'ccdom, with manlike and lawful exorcises be uscd. 
And ll'c furthcr Command Our ..Tust&cs of Assi:e, fit their- 
scvcral circmts, lo sce that no man do trouble or nolest at O, of Ottr 
loyal or dutiful leo[le in or for their la;ful rccreations ; having first 
donc thcir dttty lo GOD, attd continuin,ff in obcdicncc fo Us and Our 
Laws. A nd of this, lVc command all Oto" .Tudges, ffustices of the 
Peace, as wcll within Libcrtics as without, Mayors, Bailiffs, Con.- 
stables, and othcr Officcrs fo take notice of; attd to see observcd, a 
they tender Ottr dislhlcasure. And We fmqhcr will, that 2bublica- 
tion of this Out Commatd be ruade, by ordcr from the Bisho, bs, 
throngh all thc Parish Churchcs of thcir scvcral dioccse respcctivdy.. 
Givcn at Ottr Palace of lVestminster, the I8th da.), of October 
x633], h» the ninth ycar of Our rcign. GOD save the King 



59 

Lyrics, Elegies, c. from 
Cazoets» c. 

Maalri, çals, 

j o ii N D ow LaX D, Bachelor of lItlSiC, &c., and 
Lutenist to C  RISTIAN IV., King of Denmark. 

THE ECOND .BOOK OF ONq$ OR 
1600. 

To THE RIGHT HONOURABLE TtIE 
L,vv LUCY, CovTV.SS or BEDFORD. 

XCELLENT Lady ! I scnd unto 3'out Ladyship 
from thc Court of a #,'cign Prince, lhis l'olume 
of my Sccond Labours, as to thc worthicst 
Patronncss of Music; which is thc noblcst of all 
scicnccs. For thc wholc framc of Nature is 
nothing but Harmoo', as wcll i» souls, as [in] 
bodics. A nd bccause I ara now removed fro» 
your sight, I will seak boldly ; that your 
Ladyshi shall bc mtthankful to Nature hcrsclf, if you do hot 
lovc and dcfcnd that A rt, by which she bath givcn you so wcll 
tuncd a mind ? 
Your Ladyshi hall» çn yoursclf, an cxccllcnt agrccmcnt  many 
virtucs ; of which, th6ugh I admirc all, yct I ara bound by n O, ro- 
fession, fo givc esccial honore" fo your knowlcdgc of M usic : wh ich, 
in thcjuwmcnt of ancicnt timcs, was so mcr an cxccllgn o, i» 
womcn, that thc Muscs took thcir naine from if ; and yct so rarc, 
that the world durst imaginc bu-t Ninc of thcm. 
I most humbly besccch your Ladyshi to rcccivc th& work into 
your favour ; and thc rathcr, bccausc it comcth r, fo bcg it of you. 
From Elsinore in Dcnmark, thc first of yunc, 6oo. 
]ur Ladyshi's, i» ail humblc dcvotion, 
OHN DOII'LflND. 



To 

the Right Noble and Virtuous Lady 
L v c v, Countess of B v. D v o I D, 

G[EOfiE]. EASTLAND. 

To 7. .D o v z , x D's Lttlc. 

LUTE ! A fise, and charm the air, 
U ntil a thousand forms she bcar ! 
Conjurc them all, that thcy refait 
I nto th.e circles of ber car ; 
E vcr fo dwcll fit concord thcre ! 

]3 y this, thy tttncs may have acccss 
E vcn to her sbirit, whose flowing trcasure 
D oth sweetcst harmony c:qbrcss ; 
F illing all cars and hcarts witlt lcasure ; 
0 u earth, obscrving heavcnly mcasure. 
R ight wcll can shc judge and dcfcnd thcm ! 
D oubt hot of that, for she can mcnd them ! 

oe-+++++++++++++++ 



52I 
To the Courteous Reader. 
 EN T LE lI E N 
F THE consideration of mine own estate, or the 
true vorth of money had prevailed with me abovc 
the desire of pleasuring you and shewing my love 
to my friend, these Second Labours of Master 
DOWLAD--whose very naine is a large Preface of commenda- 
tions to the book--had for ever lain hid in darkness, or at 
the least frozen in a cold and foreign country. 
I assure you that both my charge and pains in publishing 
it, hath exceeded ordinary [ones] : yet thus much I have to 
assure me of requital, that neither the work is ordinary ; nor 
are your judgements ordinary, to whom I present it ! so that 
I have no reason but to hope for good increase in my labours, 
especially of your good favours towards me; which of all 
things I most esteem. \Vhich if I find in this, I mean shortly, 
GOD willing, to set at liberty for your service, a prisoner taken 
at Cadiz : who, if he discovers not something, in [the] matter 
f music, worthy [of] your knowledge; let the reputation'of 
my judgement in music answer [for] it! 
In the meantime, I commend my absent friend fo your 
remembrance ! and myself, to your favourable conceits ! 
GEORGE EASTLAND. 
From my house near The Green Dragon and Sword, 
in Fleet Street. 



5 --__ LrRICS, ELEGIES, ¢°-¢C. FROII [ Ea'v'L D°l""''ur,6 

Lyrics, E]egies, Fff c. from 
Canzonets, 

Madriga[s, 

I ] JOlIN DOWLAND. 
THZ SECOND BOOK OF 

To the lttost fittttotts 2t N T H 0 N Y H 0 L Æ 0 R N E. 

SAw my Lady weep! 
And Sorrmv proud ! to be advancèd so 
In those fair eyes, where ail perfections keep. 
Her face was full of woe ! 
But such a woe (believe me!) as wins more 
hearts 
Than Mirth can do, with ber enticing parts. 
Sorrow was there made fair ! 

And Passion, wise ! Tears, a delightful thing ! 
Silence, beyond all speech, a wisdom rare ! 
She ruade her sighs to sing, 
And all things with so sweet a sadness more ; 
As made my heart at once both grieve and love. 

0 Fairer than ought else 
The world can shew! leave off, in time, to grieve ! 
Enough, enough ! Your joyful look excels ! 
Tears kill the heart, believe ! 
0 strive hot to be excellent in woe, 
Which only breeds your beauty's ovcrthrov ! 



E6.1yj. Do,lad.-IMay 6oo.] l,l ADRIGALS, C&NZONETS, ¢,C. 523 

Lac'[lll¢. 

lLoxv, my tears ! fall from your springs 
Exiled for ever, let me mourn 
\Vhere night's black bird, her sad infamy sings 
There, let me live forlorn 
Never may my xvoes be relieved, since pity is fled ; 
And tears, and sighs, and groans, my weary days, of all 
have deprivèd. 

Down vain lights ! Shine )'ou no more ! 
No nights are dark enough for those, 
That in despair, their last tortunes deplorc. 
Light doth but shame disclose ! 
From the highest spire of contentment, my fortune is tbrown ; 
And fear, and grief, and pain, for my deserts, are my hopes ; 
since hope is gone. 

Hark, you shadmvs ! that in darkness dvell, 
Learn to contemn light ! 
Happy ! happy they, that, in hell, 
Feel hot the world's despite! 

ORROXV ! Sorrov«, stay ! Lend true repentant teal's. 
To a woful wretched wight ! 
Hence ! hence, Despair! with thy tormenting fears. 
0 do not, my poor heart affright ! 
Pitv ! Pity, help now, or never ! Mark me hot to endless pain !' 
Alas, I ara condemnèd ever, no hope there doth remain, 
But down, down, down, down I rail; 
And arise, I never shall. 

"['I]IE not before thy day! poor man condemned! 
But lift thy low looks flom th' humble earth ! 
Kiss hot Despair, and see sweet Hope contemned!! The hag hath no delight, but moan for mirth ! 



LYRICS, ELEGIES, &C. FROM [Ed.byJ. Dowland. 
May x6ooo 

O fie, poor fondling! fie, be willing 
To preserve thyself from killing ! 
Hopc, thy keeper, glad to free thee, 
13ids thee go ! and will hot see thee. 
Hie thee, quickly, from thy vrong !" 
So She ends her villing song. 

'OURN ! Day is with darkness fled ! 
[' ]1 What heaven then governs ,earth ? 
.ll o no,e, but hel, in heaven s stead, 
Chokes with his mists, our mirth. 

Mourn ! Look, nov, for no more day ! 
Nor night, but that Dom hell ! 
Then all must, as they may, 
In darkness learn to dvell ! 

But yet this change must change our dclight, 
That thus the Sun should harbour vith the Night. 

'lff-li,«s eldest son, Old,Age, (the Heî'r of Ease, 
Strength's i°e' L°ve s Vvoe, and Foster to Devotion) 
/3ids gallant Youth in martial prowess please ! 
As for himself, he bath no earthly motion ; [fices, 
But thinks Sighs, Tears, Vovs, Prayers, and Sacri- 
As good as Shows, Masks, Jousts, or Tilt devices. 

Then. sit thee doxvn! and say thy Nmtc dimitis ! 
"Vith Dc profmMis, Crcdo, and Te DE UM ! 
Chant Miscrcrc, for what nov so fit is 
As that, or this, Paratum cst cor mcum ! 
O that thy Saint would take in worth thy heart ! 
Thou canst not please ber with a better part. 



Ed. byJ. Dowland.-]liay t6oo.3 IIADRIGALS, CANZONETS, C. 

When others sing Vcnite cxultcmus / 
,Stand by, and turn to Noli cmulari ! 
For Quare frcmucrunt, use Oremus ! 
Iïvat ELIZA ! for an A ve MAre ! 
And teach those Swains that live about thy cell ; 
To sing A mcn, when thou dost pray so well ! 

RAIsE blindness, Eyes ! for seeing is deceit. 
Be dumb, vain Tongue! words are but flattering 
winds. 
Break Heart, and bleed ! for there is no receipt 
To pu,ge inconstancy from most men's minds. 
And so I waked amazed, and could hot more ;. 
I knmv my dream was true, and yet I lovc ! 

And if thine Ears, false heralds to thy heart, 
Convey into thy head, hopes to obtain ; 
Then tell thy hearing, thou art deaf by Art! 
Now, Love is Art ; that wonted to be plain. 
And so I waked amazed, and could hot move 
I know my dream was true, and yet I love 

Now none is bald, except they see his brains ! 
Affection is not known, till one be dead ! 
Reward for love, are labours for his pains ! 
LovE's quiver made of gold, his shafts of lead, 
And so I waked amazed, and could not more 
I know my dream was true, and yet I love 

To 2][astcl" H u G H HO L L A N D. 
tRoxl Fame's desire, from Love's delight retired; 
In these sad groves, an hermit's life I lead: 
And those false pleasures, vhich I once admired, 
With sad remembrance of my rail, I dread. 



_526 Lx'lcs, ELEGIES, ¢C o 1,]-{O[ Ed. byJ. Dowlanà.lXlaa¢ x6oo. 

To birds, fo trees, to earth, impart I this ; 
For she less secret, and as senseless is! 
O sweet xvoods ! the delight of solitariness ! 
O how much do I love your solitariness ! 

Experience which repentance only brings, 
Doth bid me, noxv, my heart from Love estrange 
Love is disdained, when it doth look at kings ; 
And Love low placed, base and apt to change. 
There, Power doth take from him his liberty ! 
Her Want of \Vorth makes him in cradle die ! 
O sweet woods ! the delight of solitariness 
O how much do I love your solitariness ! 

You men that give false worship unto Love, 
And seek that which you never shall obtain ; 
The endless work of SISPHUS you procure ! 
\Vhose end is this, to know you strive in vain. 
Hope and Desire, which now your idols be ! 
You needs must lose, and feel Despair with me 
O sweet woods ! the delight of solitariness 
O how much do I love your solitariness ! 

You woods ! in you, the fairest Nymphs have walked ! 
Nymphs, at whose sights all hearts did yield to love. 
You woods ! in whom dear loyers oft have talked, 
How do you now a place of mourning prove ? 
W,NSXED, my Mistress, saith, " This is the doom ! 
ïhou art Love's childbed ! nursery ! and tomb ! " 
O sweet woods ! the delight of solitariness ! 
0 how much do I love your solitariness ! 

INE knacks for ladies ! cheap ! choice ! brave ! and 
 Good pennyvorths ! but money cannot move ! 
I keep a fair, but for the Fair to view ! 



:Ed:byJ. Dowland.-]lXlay x6o..J IIADRIGALS, CANZONETS, :C. 527 

A beggar may be liberal of love. 
Though ail my wares be trash, the heart is true» 
The heart is true, 
The heart is true. 

Great gifts are guiles, and look for glfts again, 
lXly trifles come, as treasures from my mind ! 
It is a precious jexvel to be plain ! 
Sometimes in shell, th' orientest pearls we find. 
Of others, take a sheaf ! of me, a grain ! 
Of me, a grain ! 
Of me, a grain ! 

Vithin this pack, pins ! paints ! laces [ and gloves ! 
And divers toys fitting a country tair ! 
But my heart, where duty serres and loves, 
Turtles and twins ! Court's brood ! a heavenly pair ! 
Happy the heart that thinks of no removes ! 
Of no removes ! 
Of no removes ! 

Ow cease my wand'ring eyes, 
Strange beauties to admire ! 
In change least comfort lies. 
Long joys yield long desire. 
One faith, one love, 
Make our frail pleasures eternal, and in sweetness plove! 
New hopes, new joys 
Are still, with sorrow, declining unto deep annoys. 

One man hath but one soul 
Which Art cannot divide; 
If ail one soul must love, 
Two loves must be denied 



528 LvRcs, ELEGIES, 

Orle sou1, Ole love, 
By faith and merit united, cannot remove ! 
Distracted spirits 
Are ever changing, and hapless in their delighis. 

Nature, two eyes hath given, 
AIl beauty to impart, 
As we]l in earth as heaven : 
But She hath given one heart ! 
That though we see, 
Ten thousand beauties, yet in us One should be ! 
One stedfast love ! 
Because our hearts stand fixed, although our eyes do move. 

--OME, ye of Night ! 
heavy, States 
Do my father s spirit right ; 
Soundings baleful, let me borrow, 
Burthening my song xvith sorrow. 
Corne Sorrow, corne ! Her eves that sings, 
By thee, are turnèd into springs. 

Corne, You Virgins of the Night, 
That, in dirges' sad delight ! 
Quire my anthems ! I do borroxv 
Gold nor pearl, but sounds of sorrow ! 
Corne Sorrow, corne ! Her eyes that sings, 
By thee, are turnèd into springs. 

HI'rE as lilies was ber face ! 
When She smiled, 
She beguiled ! 
Quitting faith, with foul disgracc. 
Virtue, Service, thus neglected, 
Heart with sorrows hath infcctcd. 



Ea. byl. Dow,ana.'] MADRIGALS, CANZONETS» C. 59 
May 6oo.J 

When I swore my heart her own, 
She disdained ! 
I complained, 
Yet She left me overthrown ! 
Careless of my bitter groaning, 
Ruthless, bent to no relieving. 

Vows, and oaths, and faith assurèd, 
Constant ever, 
Changing never ; 
Yet She could hot be procurèd, 
To believe my pains exceeding ! 
From her scant neglect proceeding. 

0 that Love should have the art, 
By surmises, 
And disguises, 
To destroy a faithful heart ! 
Or that wanton looking women, 
Should reward their friends, as foemen ! 

Ail in vain, is Ladies' love ; 
Quickly choosèd, 
Shortly losèd. 
For their pride is to remove ! 
Out, alas ! Their looks first won us, 
And their pride hath straight undone us ! 

To thyself, the sweetest Fair! 
Thou hast wounded, 
And confounded 
Changeless Faith, with foul Despair ! 
And my service hath envièd; 
And my succours hath denièd ! 
'/v. aAR IV. 34 



530 LVRICS, ELEGIES, C. FROM a.S,I. Do,,. 

]3y thine error, thou hast lost 
Heart unfeignèd, 
Truth unstainèd ; 
And the Swain, that lovèd most-: 
More assured in love than many, 
More despised in love than any. 

For my heart, though set at nought ; 
Since you will it, 
Spoil and kill it ! 
I will never change my thoughts ! 
But grieve that Beauty e'er was born. 
[ ? But grieve that Beauty e'er was born.] 

OIUL Heart, with grief oppressèd ! 
Since my fortunes most distressèd, 
From my joys hath me removed. 
Follow those sweet eyes adorèd ! 
Those sweet eyes, wherein are storèd, 
All my pleasures best beloved. 

Fly, my Breast ! Leave me forsaken ! 
"vVherein Grief his seat hath taken ; 
All his arrows through me darting. 
Thou mayest lire by her sunshining ! 
I shall surfer no more pining 
By thy loss, than by her parting. 

 SI-IEII-IERD in a shade, his plaining ruade 
Of love, and lover's wrong, 
Unto the fairest Lass, that trode on grass, 
And thus began his song : 
Since Love and Fortune will, I honour still 
Your fair and lovely eye ! 
What conquest will it be, sweet Nymph ! for thee ! 
If I, for sorrow die ? 



Ed.b1. Dowd.-1 IADRIGALS, CANZ-ONETS, C. 53 
llay x6oo.J 

Restore ! restore, m N heart again ! 
Which love, by thy sweet looks hath slain ! 
Lest that, enforced by your disdain, 
I sing ' Fie on love ! it is a foolish thing !' 

"My heart where have you laid, O cruel Maid! 
To kill, when you might save ! 
Why bave ye cast it forth, as nothing worth, 
Without a tomb, or grave ? 
O let it be entombed, and lie 
In your sweet mind and memory ! 
Lest I resound on every warbling string, 
• Fie ! fie on love ! that is a foolish thing ! ' 
Restore! restore, my heart again ! 
Which love, by thy sweet looks hath slain ! 
Lest that, enforced by your disdain, 
I sing ' Fie on love ! it is a foolish thing !'" 

--[HALL I sue ? shall I seek for grace ? 
1 Shall I pray ? shall I prove ? 
1 Shall I strive to a heavenly joy, 
With an earthly love ? 
Shall I think that a bleeding heart, 
Or a wounded eye, 
Or a sigh, can ascend the clouds, 
To attain so high ? 

Silly wretch ! Forsake these dreams 
Of a vain Desire ! 
0 bethink what high regard, 
Holy hopes do require ! 
Favour is as fair as things are ! 
Treasure is hot bought ! 
Favour is not won with words, 
Nor the wish of a thought. 



532 LvIICS, ELEGIES, &C. FROnt 

lity is but a poor defence 
For a dying heart : 
Ladies' eyes respect no moan 
In a mean desert. 
She is too worthy far, 
For a worth so base ! 
Cruel, and but just is She, 
In my just disgrace. 

Ed. by J. Dowland. 
llay x6oo. 

Justice gives each man his own. 
Though my love be just, 
Yet will not She pity my grief! 
Therefore die I must ! 
Silly heart ! then yield to die ! 
Perish in despair ! 
Witness yet, how fain I die, 
When I die ior the Fair! 

'Oss not my soul, O Love ! 'twixt hope and fear ! 
Show me some ground where I may firmly stand, 
Or surely fall! I care not which appear ! 
So one will close me in a certain band. 
çVhen once of ill, the uttermost is known ; 
The strength of sorrow quite is overthrown ! 

Take me, ASSURANCE ! to thy blissful hold ! 
Or thou, DESPAIR ! unto thy darkest cell ! 
Each bath full test ! The one, in joys enroll'd : 
ïh' other, in that he fears no more, is well. 
\Vhen once the uttermost of ill is known, 
The strength of sorrow quite is overthrown ! 



Ed. by.])owlznd.']May t6oo...] 1V[ADRIGALS, CANZONETS, &C. 533 

LEAR or cloudy, sweet as April show'ring, 
[ [*"[ Smooth or frowning, sois her Face to me 
[,,----1 Pleased or smiling, like mild May ail flow ring : 
When skies, blue silk, and meadows, carpets be. 
Her Speeches, notçs of that night bird that singeth, 
Who, thought all sweet, yet jarring notes outringeth. 

Her Grace, like June, when earth and trees be trimmed 
In best attire, of complete beauty's height. 
Her Love again, like Summer's days be dimmed, 
With little clouds of doubtful constant faith. 
Her Trust, her Doubt, like rain and heat in skies ; 
Gently thund'ring, She light'ning to mine eyes. 

Sweet Summer ! Spring ! that breatheth life and growing 
In weeds, as into herbs and flowers ; 
And sees of service, divers sorts in sowing, 
Some haply seeming, and some being yours : 
Rain on your herbs and flowers that truly seem ! 
And let your weeds lack dew, and duly starve ! 

t Dialogue. 
Uou, say! What mak'st thou heré 
In presence of a Queen ? 
Thou art a heavy leaden mood ! 

Ckorus. But never Humour yet was true, 
But that which only pleaseth you ! 

Princes hold conceit most dear, 
All conceit in Humour seen ; 
Humour is Invention's food. 



534 

[-Ed. by J. Dowland. 
LYRICS, ELEGIES, :C. L May'x66o. 
Chorus. But never Humour yet was true, 
But that which only pleaseth you ! 

O, I am as heavy as earth, 
Say, then, who is Humour now ? 
Why, then, 'tis I am drowned in woe ? 

Chorus. But never Humour yet was true, 
But that which only pleaseth you ! 

I am now inclined to mirth, 
Humour I, as well as thou ! 
No, no Wit is cherished so. 

Chorus. But never Humour yet was true, 
But that which only pleaseth you! 

Mirth, then, is drowned in Sorrow's brim. 
No, no, fool ! The light things swim ; 
Heavy things sink to the deep ! 

Chorus. But never Humour yet was true, 
But that which only pleaseth you! 

O, in sorrow, all things sleep ! 
In her presence, all things smile ; 
Humour, frolic then awhile ! 

Chorus. But never Humour yet was true, 
But that which only pleaseth you ! 

[Then follows a piece of instrumental music, entided 

L, o WL A XD'S A dieu for Master 0 I z v E R C R 0 M W E I I .] 



535 

The Seuestration of/Irchbisbol IB  o T 
from all bis Ecclesiastical 
O ffces, iîz x 6 2 7. 

JOHN RUSHWORTH, Esq., of 
Lincoln's Inn. 

lit will be necessary, ere long, to establish a Socielyfor the Preservalion 
of the xlle moy of lhe S T u A  T A'itgs of Etgland, from UnioEtersal Eace- 
cralion ; so rnuch is it now seen, that, stripped of the mantle of their 
Kingship, theywereunworthy ofthe narne of English Gentlemen. Scotland 
could have sent us many a better bred family ! 
What a picture has the good Archbishop given us of the English King 
and Court in the first days of the reign of the so called Royal Martyr. 
CHARLES, first claiming for himself an unbounded power over his subjects, 
and then lavishly bestoxving it on his favourite BUCKINGHAM is the 
rnodern counterpart of NEBUCHADNEZZAR setting up his golden image 
"in the plain of Dura, in the province of Babylon." 
Note that this Narrative was written without the faintest concep- 
tion or realisation of such a possibility as a national rising under the 
guidance of the Long Parliament. The two characters, ofLAUI) at . 548, 
and of BUCKINGHAI at/. 574, are Eye-Witness portraits, and should be 
included, unabridged, in every future History of England. Irnagine an 
Archbishop scornfully speaking (/. 548) of ]3ishop LAUI) as "what a 
sweet rnan he was likely to be ! " 
It should be also rernernbered that LAUD records in his 1)iary, that 
on the 2nd October, 626 (i.e., nine months belote the Archbishop's 
present Narrative was written), CHARLES I. prornised him the reversion 
of the Archbishopric, when Doctor ABBOT should die.]  

LONDON, 

[Itistor[cal Collections, l. 435- Ed. t659-] 

I I.CHBISHOP zAxBBOT, having been long 
slighted at Court, now fell under the 
King's high displeasure; for refusing to 
license Doctor IBTHORP'S sermon, en- 
tituled A[ostolical Obedience, as he xvas 
commanded; and, not long ai'ter, he xvas 
sequestered from his Office, and a Com- 
mission was granted to the Bishops of 
I) URHAM, ROCHESTER, OXFORD, and Doctor, 



536 THE ROYAL COMMISSION SEQUESTRATING [9Oct. 

LAUD, Bishop of BATH AND WELLS, to exercise archi- 
episcopal jurisdiction. 
The Commission is followeth-- 
CHARLES, by the grace of GOD, KUtg of England, 
Scotland, France, and lreland ; Defender of lhe Faith, &c. 
To the -Right Reverend Father in GOD, GEORGE [MON- 
TAI6NE], Bisholh of LONDON ; and to the -Right Reverend 
Father in GOD, out trusty and well beloved Councillor, 
_RICHARD [NEYLE], Lord Bishop of DURHAM ; and to the 
light _Reverend Father in GOD, ffOHN [tUCKERIDGE], 
Lord Bishop of _ROCHESTER ; and fo the _Right _Reverend 
Father in GOD, ffOHN [HoWSON], Lord Bishop of OX- 
FORO; and to the _Rçht _Reverend Father i GOD, our 
_Right Trusty and IVell Beloved Councillor, IVILLIAM 
[LA UD], Lord Bishop of BATH AND IVELLS. 

HREA S GEORGE,  oZV .A rch bisho of CA NTERB UR Y, 
in the right of the Archbishopric, bath several and 
distinct A rchieisco]al, Etiscopal, and other S]iritual 
and Ecclesiastical Powers and urisdictions, fo be 
exercised in the Government and Discil5line of the 
Church within the Province [ Canterbury, and in the Administra- 
tion of ustice in Causes Ecclesiastical within that Province, hich 
are partly execued by himself in his own pcrson, and parly and 
nore generally by several persts nominated and authorised by him, 
behg learned in the Ecclesiastical Laws of this _Reahn, in those 
several places whereunto they are deputed and appointed by the 
said Archbisho] : which several places, as We are informed, they 
severally Izold by several Grants #r their several lires, as namely, 
Sir HENRY MARTIN Knight hath and holdeth by the 
grants of the said Archbishol5 , the O.ïces and Places of the 
Dean of the Arches, and udge or Mastcr of the Prcrogative 
Court, for the natural life of the said Sir HENRY MARTIN. 
Sir CHARLES CESAR Knight hath and holdeth by grants 
of the said A rchbishop, the Places or O.ïces of the ffudge of 
the Audience, and Master of the Faculties, for the tcrm of th6 
natural life of he said Sir CHARLES CSAR. 
Sir THOtAS _RIDLEY Knight hath and holdeh by the 
grant of the said Archbishop, the Place or Office of Vicar 
General fo the said Archbishop. 
And ]VATHANIEL tRENT, Doctor of the Laws, hatlr and 



,.]ARCHBISHOP ABBOT FROM HIS FUNCTIONS. 537 

holdeth by grant of the said Archbishop, the Office or Place 
of Commissay fo the said Archbishop, as of his »roler and 
ibeculiar diocese of Canterbuy. 
And likewise the sevcral Registrars of the A rches, Prero- 
gative, Audience, Faculties, and of the Vicar Gcneral and 
Commissary of Cantcrbury, hold thcir llaccs by grants by the 
said A rchbishop respectively. 
lVhereas the said A rchbishop, it some or all of these several 
Places and yurisdictions, doth and nay sometimes assume unto his 
pcrsonal and lroper yudicature, Ordcr, or Direction, some parti- 
cMar Causes, Actions, or Cases, at his pleasure. A nd forasmuch 
as the said A rchbishop cannot, at this #rescnt, in his own lcrson, 
attend these services which are othcrwise proper for his Cognisance 
ami yurisdiction ; and which as A rchbishop of CANTERBURY, he 
might and ought in his own person fo bave performed anti executed 
in Causes and Matters Ecclesiastical, in the #toper functio of 
Archbishop of the Province. 
WE, therefore, of Out regal lower, and of Our brincely care 
ad providence, that nothing shall be dcfective in the Order 
Discipline, Government, or Right of the Church, bave thought fit 
by the service of some other lcarned and revercnd Bishops, to be 
named by Us, to supply those which the said A rchbishop ought or 
might, in the cases aforesaid, to have donc ; but, for this ibrescnt, 
cannot pcrform the saine. 
Know ye, therefore, That We, relbosing special trust and con- 
]ïdence in your a#roved wisdoms, learning, and integrity, bave 
nominated, authorised, and appointed, and do, by these #rcsents, 
nominate, authorise, and appoint You, the said GF.OROE, Lord 
Bishop of LONDON ; RICHARD, Lord Bishop of DURHAM ; 
yOHN, Lord Bishop of ROCHESTER ; yOHN, Lord Bishop of 
OXFORD ; and IVILLIAM, Lord Bishop of BATH AND ||'ELLS, 
or any four, three, or two of you, to do, execute, and #erform all 
and every those acts, matters, and things any way touching or 
concerning the Power, yurisdiction, or A uthority of the A rchbishop 
of CANTERBURY i* Causes or Matters Ecclesiastical, as amlly, 
fidly, and effectually, to all intents andlurtoses , as the said A rch- 
bishop himself might bave donc. 
And We do hereby Command you, and every of you, to attend, 
ibeform, and execute this Our Royal Pleasure in and touching 
the lremises, until We shall dcclare Out Will and Pleasure to 
the contrary. 



538 A FIT RECORD OF ARBITRARY POWER. 

And lVe do fi,rther hereby Will and Command the said Arch- 
bishop of CANTERBURY, quietly and without interruihtion, fo 
fier»dt and suffer you the said GEOROE, Bishoih of LONDON ; 
RICHARD, Bishoih of DVRHAX ; .OHN, Bishoih of ROCnESTE : 
yOnN, Bishoih of OXFOR ; and [VILLIAM, Bishop of BATh 
AND WELLS ; a.y four, three, or two of you, fo execute and 
erform this Out Commission, according to Out Royal Pleasure 
thereby sinified. 
And lVe do fitrther Will and Command all and every otl, er 
person and persons, whom if may any way concern in their several 
Places or Offices, fo be attendant, observanf, and obedient to you 
and every of you, in the execution and ]erformance of this Out 
Royal Will and Command; as they and every of them will answer 
the contrary af their utmost perils. 
Nevertheless, IVe do hereby declare Our Royal Pleasure fo be 
That they the said Sir HENRY MARTIN, Sir CHARLES C.SAR, 
Sir THOMAS RIDLEY, and ]TATHANIEL BRENT, in their 
several Offices and Places ; and all other Registrars, Officers, and 
Ministcrs i, the several Courts, Offices, and ffurisdictions aer- 
taining fo the said A rchbisho_#, shall, quietly and without inter- 
ruption, hold, use, occuy, and enjoy their several Offices and 
Places, which they now hold by the grant of the said A rchbisho, 
or of any other former Archbishop of CANTERBURY, in such 
mam,er and form, and with those be,e.ts, privileges, owers, and 
authorities which they now bave, hold, and enjoy therein or there- 
out, severally and resbectively : they, and every of them, in 
tlteir several Places, being attendant and obedient ,«nto you, the 
said GEOR6E, Bishoih of LO2VDON; RICI-IARD, Bishop of 
DURHAI ; OHN, Bishoih of ROCœeESTER ; OnN, Bishop of 
OXFORD; and WILLIAM, Bishoih of BATH AND WELLS ; 
or to any four, three, or two of you, in all things according fo 
the teuour of this out Out Commission ; as they should or o-ught 
to bave been to the said Archbishop himself, if this Commission 
had hot been had or ruade. 
In witness whereof, Ve have caused these our Letters fo be 
ruade Patents. Witness Out Self, at lVestm.Utster, the ninth day 
of October [1627] in the third year of out reign. 
l'er ipsum Regem. 
J. DMONDSo 



539 

Archbishop A B B o r's own Narrative. 

[RtsHwoITH. ZtiMarical Calgectians» idem.] 

Pars Prima. 

T is an example, so without example, that in the 
sunshine of the Gospel ; in the midst of profession 
of the true religion ; under a gracious King, whom 
all the world must acknowledge to be blemished 
with no vice ; a man of my place and years, who 
bas done some service in the Church and Commonwealth, so 
deeply laden with some furious infirmities of body, should be 
removed from his ordinary habitation, and, by a kind of 
deportation, should be thrust into one end of the Island 
(although I must confess into his own diocese), that I hold 
it fit that the reason of it should be truly understood, least it 
may someways turn to the scandal of my person and calling. 
Which Declaration, notwithstanding, I intend hOt to com- 
municate to any, but to let it lie by me privately; that it 
being set down impartially, whilst all things are fresh in 
memolT, I may have recourse to it hereafter, if quegtions 
shall be made of anything contained in this Relation. 
And this I hold necessary to be done, by reason of the 
strangeness of that, which, by way of Censure, was inflicted 
upon me; being then of the age of sixty-five years, encum- 
bered with the gout, and afflicted with the stone: having 
lived so many years in a Place of great service, and, for 
ought I know, untainted in any of my actions ; although my 
Master, King JAMES (who resteth with GOD) had both a 
searching wit of his own to discover his servants, whom he 
put in trust, whether they took any sinister courses or hOt ; 
and wanted hot some suggesters about him, to make the 
worst of ail men's actions whom they could misreport. 
Yet this innocency and good faine to be overthroxvn in a 
month ! and a Christian ]3ishop suddenly to be ruade fablda 
wdgi, to be tossed upon the tongues of friends and foes, of 
Protestants and Papists, of Court and Country, of English 
and Foreigners, must needs, in common opinion, presuppose 
some crime, open or secret ; which, being discovered by the 



[-Abp. G. Abbot. 
54° THE 2RCIIBIStIOP AFFLICTED WITII L ? 

King, albeit hOt fully appearing to the world, must draw on 
indignation in so high a measure. 
I cannot deny that the indisposition of my body kept me 
/'rom Court, and thereby gave occasion to maligners to traduce 
me, as, " xvithdraxving myself from public services, and there- 
fore misliking some coursesthat were taken " : which abstain- 
ing, perhaps, neither pleased the King, nor the Great Man 
that set them on foot. 
It is true, that in the turbulency of some things, I had not 
great invitements to draw me abroad ; but fo possess my soul 
in patience till GOD sent fairer weather. But the true ground 
for my abstaining from solemn and public places, was the 
weakness of my feet, proceeding from the gout: which 
disease being hereditary unto me, and having possessed me 
now nine years, had debilitated me more and more ; so that 
I could hOt stand at all, neither could I go up or down a pair 
of stairs but, besides my staff, I must have the service of 
one at least, of my men, who were not fit to be admitted in 
every place where I xvas to corne. 
And although I was off remembered by the wisest of my 
friends, that " I might be carried, as the old Lord Treasurer 
]c:URLEIGH was !" yet I did not think my service so neces- 
sary for the commonwealth, as his Lordship's, by long experi- 
ence, was found to be. I did hot value myself at so high a 
rate; but remembered that it was hOt the least cause of 
overthrow to ROBERT [DEVEREUXJ, Earl of ESSEX, that he 
prized himself so, as if Queen ELIZABETH and the Kingdom 
could hOt well have stood, if he had hot supported both the 
one and the other. 
Now for me, thus enfeebled, hOt with gout only, but with 
the stone and gravel, to wait on the King or the Council 
Table, was, by me, held a matter most inconvenient. In the 
Courts of Princes, there is little feeling of [for]_ the infirmities 
belonging fo old age. They like them that be young and 
gallant in their actions, and in their clothes. They love hOt 
that men should stick too long in any room of greatness. 
Change and alteration bringeth somewhat with it ; what have 
they to do with kerchiefs and staves, with lame or sickly 
men ? It is certainly true, there is little compassion upon the 
bodily defects of any. The Scripture speaketh of "men stand- 
ing before Kings." It were an uncouth sight to see the subject 



Abp. G. Abbot.' 
? Julya67._] THE GOUT AND TtIE STONE. 54 

sit the day before the Coronation: when, on the morrow, I 
had work enough for the strongest man in England, being 
weak in my feet, and coming to Whitehall to see things in 
readiness against the next day. Yet, notwithstanding the 
stone and gout, I was not altogether an inutile servant in the 
King's affairs ; but did all things in my house that were fo 
be done: as in keeping" the High Commission Court, doing 
all inferior actions conducing thereto ; and despatching refer- 
ences from His Majesty that came thick upon me. 
These Relations vhich are ruade concerning me, be of 
certain truth; but reach not to the reason I was discarded. 
To understand therefore the verity, so it is, that the Duke 
of IUCKINGHAM (being still great in the favour of the King; 
could endure no man that would hOt depend upon him) among 
other men, had me in his eye, for not stooping unto him, so 
asto become his vassal. 
I (that had learned a lesson, which I constantly hold, To 
be no man's servant, but the King's : for mine old royal Master 
which is with GOD, and mine own reason did teach me so) 
went on mine own ways; although I could hot but observe, 
that as many as walked in that path did surfer for it upon all 
occasions, and so did I : nothing wherein I moved my Master 
taking place ; which, finding so clearly (as if the Duke had 
set some ill character upon me), I had no way but to test in 
patience; leaving all to GOD, and looking to myself as 
warily as I might. But this did not serve the turn; his 
undertakings were so extraordinary, that every one that was 
not with him, was presently [instantly] against him : and if a 
hard opinion were once entertained, there was no place left 
for satisfaction or reconciliation. 'What befell the Earl of 
.A_RUNDEL, Sir RANDAL CAREW, and divers others, I need hOt 
to report; and no man can make doubt but he blew the 
coals. 
For myself, there is a gentleman called Sir H. S., who 
gave the first light what should befall me. 
This Knight, being of more livelihood than wisdom, had 
married the Lady D., sister of the now Earl of E.; and 
had so treated ber, both for safeguard of ber honour, blemished 
by him scandalously ; and for ber alimony or maintenance, 
being glad to get from him ; she was forced to endure a suit 
in the High Commission Court. 



[-Abp. G. Abbot. 
542 DOCTOR S/BTHORP'S ASSlZE SERMON ON L t July x6, 7. 

So to strengthen his party, he xvas made known to the 
Duke ; and, by means of a dependent on his Grace, he got a 
letter from the King, that " The Commissioners should pro- 
ceed no further in hearing of that cause; by reason that it being 
a difference between a Gentleman and his \Vife, the King's 
Majesty would hear it himself." The solicitor for the lady, 
finding thatthe course of Justice was stopped, did so earnestly, 
by petition, move the King, that, by another letter, there was 
a relaxation of the former restraint, and the Commissioners 
Icclesiastical went on. 
But now, in the new proceeding, finding himself by justice 
like[ly] enough to be pinched ; he did publicly in the Court, 
refuse to speak by any Counsel, but would plead his cause 
himself: wherein he did bear the whole business so disorderly 
and tumultuously, and unrespectively [disrespectfully], that, 
after divers reproofs, I was enforced, for the honour of the 
Court and the reputation of the High Commission, to tell 
him openly that " If he did not carry himself in a better 
fashion, I would commit him to prison !" 
This so troubled the young gallant, that, within few days 
after, being at dinner or supper (where some wished me well), 
he bolted it out that '" As for the Archbishop, the Duke had a 
purpose to turn him out of his Place, and that he did but wait 
the occasion to effect it." Which being brought unto me, 
constantly, by more ways than one ; I was now in expecta- 
tion, what must be the issue of this Great Man's indignation ; 
which fell out to be, as followeth. 

There was one SIBTHORP, who, not being so much as a 
I3achelor of Arts (as it hath been credibly reported unto me), 
by means of Doctor PEIRCE, Dean of Peterborough (being 
Vice Chancellor of Oxford), did get to be confirmed upon him, 
the title of a Doctor. 
This man is Vicar of Brackley, in Northamptonshire; and 
bath another benefice not far from it, in Buckinghamshire : 
but the lustre of his honour did arise from being the son-in- 
law of Sir JOHN LAIB, Chancellor of Peterborough, whose 
daughter he married; and was put into the Commission of 
Peace. 
When the Lent Assizes were, in February last [I627], at 
Northampton, the man that preached [on the 22nd of the month] 



],î,;:] A'osrozzc.«z OZrZ¢C,AT N ORTn,.,t'TO. 543 

before the Judges there, was this worthy Doctor: where, 
magnifying the authority of Kings (which is so strong in the 
Scripture, that it needs no flattery any ,vays to extol it), he 
let rail divers speeches which were distasteful to the auditors, 
and namely, " That Kings had po'ver to put poli money upon 
their subjects' heads" : when, against those challenges, men 
did frequently mourno 
He, being a man of low fortune, conceived that the putting 
his sermon [entitled " Aostolical Obedicnce "] in print, might 
gain favour at Court and raise his fortune higher, on he goeth 
with the transcribing of his sermon ; and got a bishop or two 
to prefer this great service to the Duke. It being brought 
unto the Duke, it cometh in his head, or was suggested to 
him by some malicious body, that, thereby, the Archbishop 
might be put to some remarkable strait. For if the King 
should send the sermon unto him, and command him to allow 
it to the press, one of these two things would follow : that, 
either he should authorise it, and so, ail men that xvere in- 
different should discover him for a base and umvorthy beast; 
or he should refuse it, and so should rail into the King's 
indignation, who might pursue it at his pleasure as against 
a man that was contrary to his service. 
Out of this fountain flowed ail the water that afterwards so 
wet. In rehearsing xvhereof, I must set down divers par- 
ticulars; which some man may wonder how they should be 
discovered unto me : but let it suffice, once for ail, that in the 
word of an honest man and a Bishop, I recount nothing but 
whereof I have good warrant ; GOD Himself working means. 
The matters were revealed unto me, although it be not 
convenient that, in this Paper, I name the manner how they 
came unto me; lest such as did, by well doing, farther me, 
should receive blame for their labour. 

Well, resolved it is, that " I be put to it ! and that, vith 
speed .t,, and therefore Master WILLIArt MCrRgAV (nephew as, 
I think, unto Master THOMaS Muggav, sometimes Tutor to 
Prince CagLES), now of the King's Bedchamber, is sent to 
me with the written Sermon: of whom, I must say, that 
albeit he did the King his Master's service ; yet he did use 
himself temperately and civilly unto me. 
For avoding of i-nqtit and inquam, as TULLY saith, I said 



...... r-Abp. G. Abhot. 
544THE JRCHBP'S CHAPLAINS LICENSE 13Ooix.[ ¢ july6zT. 

this and he said that, I will make it by way of dialogue : not 
setting down every day's conference exactly by itself, but 
mentioning all things in the whole; yet distinguishing of times 
where, for the truth of the Relation, it cannot be avoided. 

]V[URRAY. My Lord ! I am sent unto you by the King, to 
let you know that his pleasure is, That whereas there is 
brought unto him, a Sermon to be printed : you should allow 
this Sermon to the press. 
A rchbishop. I was never he that authorised books to be 
printed : for it is the work of my Chaplains to read over other 
men's writings, and what is fit, to let it go; what is unfit, to 
expunge it. 
MVRRAY. But the King will have you yourself to do this, 
because he is minded that no books shall be allowed, but by 
you and the t3ishop of LONDON [then GEORGE MONTAIGNE]: 
and my Lord of LONDON authorised one the other day, 
COSENS'S book ; and he will have you do this. 
Archbisholb. This is an occupation that my old Master, King 
JAIES, did never put me to; and yet I was then young, and 
had more abilities of body than I now have : so that I see I 
must now learn a new lesson. But leave it with me! and 
when I have read it, I shall know what to say unto it. A 
day or two hence, you shall understand my mind. 

\Vhen I had once or twice perused it ; I found some words 
which seemed to me to cross that which the King intended, 
and, in a sort, to destroy it ; and therefore upon his return a 
day or two after, I expressed myself thus : 
Master MVlIAY! I conceive that the King intended that 
this Sermon shall promote the service now in hand about 
the Loan of Money: but in my opinion hemuch crosseth 
it. For he layeth it down for a rule (and because it should 
hot be forgotten, he repeateth it again)that Christians 
are bound in duty one to another, especially ail subjects fo 
thcir Princes, according to the Laws and Customs of the 
Kingdom wherein they live. Out of this, will men except 
this Loan ; because there is neither Lawnor Custom for 
it, in the Kingdom of England. 
Secondly. I n myjudgement, there followeth a dangerous 
speech, Habcmus ncessitatem vindicanda libertatis. (For 



Abp. G. Abbot.-? July ,6,»_1 2k TRAI' TO CATCII TIIE zAxRCtI]:ISlIOP. 545 

this was all that vas then quoted out of CALVIN, no 
mention being ruade of any the other words which are, 
now, in the printed copy.) For when, by the former rule 
he bath set men at liberty whether they will pay or not ; he 
imposeth upon them a necessity to vindicate this liberty ; 
and vindicare may be extended to challenge with violence, 
cure ri. But, for my part, I would be most unwilling to 
give occasion to Sedition and Mutiny in the kingdom ! 
Again, here is mention ruade of Poil BIoney; which, 
as I have heard, hath already caused much distaste 
where the Sermon was preached. 
Moreover, vhat a speech is this ? That he observes 
forwardness of thc Papists fo ofjC doublc according to an A ct 
of Parliàmcnt so providing ; 3,er, to ibrofess that thcy would 
part with the hall of thcir ffoods : where be quoteth in the 
margent, Anno I. CAROLI, the Act for the Subsidy of the 
Laity, whereby Popisl Rccusants wcre o pay double; when 
indeed there is no such Act ! 
And in the fifth place, it is said in this Sermon, that 
the Princes of Bohcmia bave powcr to dcpose thcir Kings, as 
tot being hcrcditary. \Vhich is a great question : such a 
one as hath cost much blood ; and must not in a word 
be absolutely defined here, as if it were without con- 
troversy. 
I pray you, make His BIajesty acquainted vith these 
things ! and take the book with you ! 
Where it is to be noted, that, all this time, we had but one 
single copy [manuscript] ; vhich vas sometimes at the Court, 
and sometimes left vith me. 
MURRAV. I vill faithfully deliver these things to the King, 
and then you shall hear further from me ! 

Some two or three days after, he returneth again unto me, 
and telleth me, That he had particularly acquainted the King 
with my objections ; and His Majesty made this answer. 
First. For the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom, 
he did hot stand upon that. He had a precedent for 
that vhich he did, and thereon he would insist. 
A rchbishop. I think that to be a mistaking ; for I fear there 
will be found no such precedent. King HENRY VIII., as the 
Chronicle sheweth, desired but a Sixth Part of men's estates, 



.54 6 Dlscusslols OvER TIIE MANUSCRIPT [Ap JulyG'Abb°t',627. 

Ten Groats in the Pound : our King desireth the whole six 
parts, full out; so much as men are set at in the Subsidy Book. 
And in the time of King HENRY, although he were a powerful 
King; yet, for that taxation, there began against him little 
less than a rebellion; so that he held it wisdom to desist ; 
.and, laying the blame upon Cardinal WOLSE', professed that 
"he knew nothing of the marrer." 
MURRAY. Secondly. The King saith for the words, 
Habcmus ncccssitatcm vildicada libcrtatis ; he taketh them 
to be for him, and he will stand upon his liberty. 
Thirdly. l?or Poll Money, he thinketh it lawful. 
Fourthly. It is true, there was no such Act passed; 
and therefore it must be amended. (And yet in the 
printed book, it is suffered still to stand! Such slight, 
and, I may say, slovenly care was had, by them that 
published this Sermon.) 
And fifthly. For that of ]3ohemia : he bath crossed it 
out of the book. 
Some other matters there were, against which I took 
,exception; but Master [URRAY being a young gentleman, 
although witty and full of good behaviour : I doubted that, 
being not deeply seen in Divinity, he could not so well con- 
.ceive me or lnake report of my words to His Majesty : and 
therefore I, being lame and so disabled to wait on the King, 
,did move him, that " He would, in my name, humbly beseech 
His Majesty to send [VILLIAM LAUD, t]C] the Bishop of 
]3ATH AND X, VELLS unto me ; and I would, by his means, make 
known my scruples." And so I dismissed Master IIURRr ; 
observing with myself, that the Answers to my rive Objections 
,especially to two or three [of them2, were somewhat strange ; 
.as if the King were resolved (were it to his good, or to his 
barre) to have the book go forth. 

After one or two days more, the young Gentleman cometh 
to me again, and telleth me, that "The King did not think it 
fit to send the Bishop of BATH unto me ; but that expecteth 
I should pass the book." 
In the meantime, had gone over one High Commission 
day; and this Bishop (who used otherwise on very few days, 
to rail) was not there : which being joined to His Majesty's 
message, ruade me, in some measure to smell that this whole 



.Abp. G. Abbot.-] , 
. Julyl67.OF DOCTOR SIBTIIORP S SERMON. 547 

business might have that Bishop's hand in it; especially I 
&nowing in general, tbe disposition of the man. 

The minds of those that were Actors for the publishing of 
the book, were not quiet at the Court, that the thing was not 
despatched. Tberefore, one day, tbe Duke said to the King, 
" Do you see how this business is deferred ! If more expe- 
dition be hot used, it will hot be printed before the end of 
,the Term: at which rime, it is fit that it be sent down into 
Ihe countreys [countics]." So eager was he, that either by my 
credit, his undertakings might be strengthened ; or at least, 
I migbt be contemned and derided, as an unworthy feilow. 
This so quickened the King, that the next message which 
.was sent by Master MURRAY, was in some degree minatory, 
"That if I did hot despatch it, the King would take some 
other course witb me ! " 
When I found how far the Duke had prevailed ; I thought 
.it my best way, to set down in writing, many objections, 
wherefore the book was not fit to be published: which I did 
nodestly, and sent them to the King. 
x. (Page 2.) These words deserve to be well weighed, 
And whcrcas the Princcplcads hot thc Powcr of Prcrogative. 
2. (Page 8.) The King's duty is first fo dircct and make 
Laws. There is no law made till the King assent unto 
it ; but if it be put simply to make Laws, it will make 
much startling at it. 
3. (Page IO.) If nothing may excuse from Active 
• Obedicncc, but what is against the Law of GOD, or of 
1Vature, or impossible ; hov doth this agree with tbe first 
fundamental position: (Page 5-) That all subjccts are 
bound to all their Princes, according to the Laws and Customs 
• Of the Kiugdom wherei.n thcy lire. 
4- (Page II.) This is a fourth Case of Exception. The 
Poll Money, mentioned by him in Saint MArri-IF.W, was 
imposed by the Emperor as a Conqueror over te Jews: 
and the execution of it in England, although it was by 
a Law, produced a terrible effect in King RICHARD II.'s 
rime ; when only it was used, for ought that appeareth. 
5. (Page I2.) It is, in the bottom, View of .the reig 
of HFAVY III. ; and whether it be fit to give such 
allowance to the book ; being surreptitiously put out ? 



548 VILLIA.M LAUD, I)RAWN TO TIIE QUICK  ['Abp. G. Abbot_ 
• L ? July627- 

6. (In the same page.) Let the largeness of those. 
words be well considered ! Yca, all A ,tiquity to be absolutdy 
for A bsohLtc Obedicnce fo Princes, in ail Civil and Temzboral 
thin.s. For such cases as NABOTH'S Vineyard, may fall 
vithin this. 
7- (Page 14.) SIXTUS V. '`vas dead before 158o. 
8. (In the same page.) \Veigh it v«eIl, How this- 
Loan mav be called a ïribute ! and when it is said, lI'« 
are prom[scd, if shall hot be immoderately im2boscd, how 
agreeth that, with His Majesty's Commission and Pro- 
clamation, which are quoted in the margent ? 

It should seem that this paper did prick to the quick ; and' 
no satisfaction being thereby accepted, Bishop LAUD is 
called, and he must go to answer to it in writing. 

This man is the only imvard [intimate] counsellor with 
13UCKINGHAM : sitting with him, sometimes, privately whole 
hours; and feeding his humour with malice and spire. 
His life in Oxford xvas to pick quarrels in the Lectures of 
the Public Readers, and to advertise [denomce] them to the 
then Bishop of DURHA*! [? T. 2IlATTHEW, or his s:wcessor, 
W. mIES], that he might fill the ears of King JA.StES with 
discontents against the honest men that took pains in their 
Places, and settled the truth (that he called Puritanism) in 
their auditors. 
He ruade it his work, to see what books were in the 
press; and to look over Eflistles Dedicato3., and Prefaccs to tha 
l?eader, to see what faults might ge found. 
It vas an observation what a sweet man this was likely] 
to be, that the first observable act that he did, was the 
marrying of the Earl of DEVONSHIRE] to the Lady R)CH] 
[See Vol. I. 2. 4831: when it -,vas notorious to the world, 
that she had another husband, and the saine a nobleman, 
who had divers children then living by her. 
King JAMES did, for many years, take this so ill, that he 
would never hear of any great preferment of him : insomuch 
that Doctor VILLIAMS, the Bishop of LINCOLN (who taketh 
upon him, to be the first promoter of him) hath many times 
said "That when he ruade mention of LAUB tO the King, 
His Majesty was so averse from it, that he '`'`'as constrained 



,bp. Auuo,.q H E WILL UNDER'WOP.K ANY MAN IN TIIE WORI.D ! 549 
'? July x627. A 

oftentimes to say that ' He xvould never desire to serve that 
Master, xvhich could not ferait one fault unto bis servant.' " 
\Vell, in the end. he did conquer it. to get him [on the Ioth 
Octobrr, I62Ii the Bishopric of ST. DAVIDS: which he had 
hot long enjoyed ; but be began to undel'mine lais benefactor, 
as. at this day, it appeareth. 
The Countess of BVCI«XGHA told LmCOLN, that " St. 
DAVIDS was the man that undermined him with her son." 
And, verily, such is his aspiring nature, that he will under- 
work any man in the vorld ! so that he may gain by it. 
This man, who believeth so well of himself, fl-amed an 
Answer to my Exceptions. 
But to give some countenance to it ; he must call in three 
other Bishops, that is to say, I)URHAM, ROCHESTER, and 
XFORD, tried men for such a purpose! and the style of the 
peech runneth, " \Ve, and We." This seemed so strong a 
Confutation, that, tor reward of their service, as well as fOl" 
hope that they would do more, Doctor NEYLE, Bishop of 
DURHAM, and the I3ishop of BATH, were SWOln of the Privy 
Council. 
The very day, being Sunday, Master MURRAV xvas sent 
unto me, with a writing : but finding me all in a sweat, by 
a fit of the stone which was then upon me, be forbore, for 
.that time, to trouble me, and said, "That on the morrow, 
he would repair to me again." 
I got me to bed, and lying all that night in pain ; I held it 
convenient not to rise the next da3-. 
And on the Monday, Master MURRAY came unto me; 
which was the eighth time that he had been with me, so 
incessantly was I plied with this noble work. 
I had shewed it the Apostolical Obcdicnce] to a fl-iend or 
txvo : whereof the one was a learned Doctor of Divinity ; and 
the other had served many times in Parliament with great 
.commendation. \\re ail agreed that it was an idle work of 
a man that understood hot Logic, that evidently crossed 
[contradicted] himself, that sometimes spake plausibly; and, 
n the end of his Sermon, [it] ell so poor and fiat, that it 
«vas not worth the reading. 

Master MURRAY coming to my bedside, said, " That he 



550 THE ARCIIBP. EVER LOVEI) A LEARNED MAN! FAbp. G. Abbot. 
[_ July t627_ 

was sent again by the King, and had a paper to be shewecl 
unto me." 
Archbish@. You see in what case I ara, having slept 
little all this last night; but nevertheless since you corne 
from the King, I will take my spectacles, and read it. 
MçlIAY. No, my Lord! You may not read it, nor 
handle it ; for I have charge hot to surfer it to go out of my" 
hands. 
Archbish@. How then, shall I know what it is ? 
MURIAV. Yes, I bave order to read it unto you! but l 
may hot part witb it. 
Archbishop. I must conceive, that if I do hot assent to it, 
His Majesty will give me leave to reply upon it; which I 
cannot do, but in my study, for there are my books. 
MURRAY. I must go with you into your study ; and sit by 
you, till you bave done. 
Archbish@. It is hot so hasty a work. It xvill require 
rime ; and I have hot been used to study, one sitting by me. 
But first read it, I pray you ! 
The young gentleman read it from the one end to the 
other ; being two or three sheets of paper. 
Archbishop. This Answer is very bitter; but giveth me no 
satisfaction. I pray you leave the writing with me; and I 
shall batter it to pieces. 
MURRAY. NO, my Lord! I ara forbidden to leave if 
with you, or to sufier you to touch it. 
Archbishop. How cometh this about? Are the authors 
of it afraid of it, or ashamed of it? I pray you tell His. 
Majesty that I ara dealt with neither manly, nor scholar like. 
Not manly, because I must fight with adversaries that I 
know hot : not scholar like, because I must hot see wha*. if 
is that must confute me. It is now eight and forty years 
ago [i.c., in. I579! , that I came to the University; and, since 
that time, I have ever loved a learned man. I have disputed 
and written divers books, and knov very well what apper- 
taineth to the Schools. 
This is a new kind of learning unto me. I bave formerly 
round fault, that the author of this Sermon quoteth not the 
plaçes, whereupon he grounds his doctrine: and when I bave 
oft called for them, it is replied to me that "I must take 
them upon the credit of the Writer," which I date not do. 



.Abp. G. Abbot.']. Jub" x627._[ HE REFUSES TO LICENSE TIIE SER.ION. 55 I 

For I have searched but one place, xvhich he quoted in 
general, but sets doxvn neither the words, nor the treatise, 
nor the chapter; and I find nothing to the pul'pose for which 
it is quoted : and therefore I have reason to suspect ail the 
rest. 
I pray you, therefore, in the humblest manner, fo com- 
mend my service to the King my Master, and let him know 
that, unless I may bave ail the quotations set down, that 
I may examine them : and may have that Writing, wherein 
I am so iii used : I cannot allow the book ! 

Before I go further, it shall not be amiss to touch some 
particulars of that which I sent in vriting to the King. 
The First was Page 2. These words deserve to be 
well weighed.. 1 nd ,hcrcas lhe Prince iblcads hot the 2bower 
of Prcro.gative. 
To this, Master [URRAY said, " The King doth not plead 
it." 
But my reply vas, " But what then, doth he coerce those 
refractories ? for I have not heard of any Law, whereby they 
are imprisoned ; and therefore I must take it to be by the 
King's Prerogative." 
To the Second (Page 8). Thc King's dty is first fo 
direct and make Laws. There is no Law made till the 
King assent unto it; but if it be put simply to make 
Laws, it will cause much startling at it. 
To this I remember not any material thing was answered ; 
neither to the Third. 
(Page fo.) If nothing may excuse from A ctive Obcdience, 
but what is against the Law of GOD, or of Nature, or 
impossible ; how doth this agree with the first fundamen- 
tal position : (Page 5-) That all sbjccts arc bomzd to all 
their Prces, according to the Laws and C.ustoms of the 
kingdom whcrcin hcy lire. 
This is a foulth case of Exception. 
And here, before I go to the rest, the Doctor did truly hit 
upon a good point, in looking to the Laws and Customs, if he 
could have kept him to it. 
For in mv memory, and in the remembrance of man 3 , 
Lords and o{hers that nov lire, Doctor HARSENET, the then 
/3ishop of CHICHESTER, and now of NomvlcH, in Parlia- 



.5 5 2 ABP. ABBOT'S L.VCEPTZONS TO THE SERMON, [Abp. G. Abbot. 
[_ . July 627. 

ment time, preached at \Vhitehall, a sermon (which was 
afterwards burned) upon the text, Give unto C..ES.I, the lhings 
lhat be CSAR's! wherein he insisted that " Goods and 
Money were C,,XS.«R's; and therefore they were hot to be 
denied unto him." 
At tbis rime, when the vhole Parliament took main offence 
tbereat, King J.«MeS was constrained to call the Lords and 
Commons into the Banquetting House at Whitehall: and 
there His Majesty called all, by saying " The Bishop only 
failed in this, wben be said The goods wcre Cs.n's, he did 
not add Thcy wcrc his, accordin to the Laws and Customs of 
lhc Comttry whcrei thcy did livc." 
So moderate was out C«azS.«R then, as I myself saw and 
heard, being tben an Eye and Ear \Vitness: for I was then 
Bisbop of LONDOI. 
ïO tbe Fourth. The Poil Money, in Saint 3I.TTHEIV, 
vas imposed by tbe Ernperor, as a Conqueror over the 
Jews: and the execution of it in England, although it 
was by a Law, produced a terrible effect in RICHARD II.'s 
tirnc; when only it vas used, for ought that appeareth. 
Here the Bisbop, in the Paper, excepted divers things 
" Tbat sornetirnes arnong us, by Act of Parliament, strangers 
are appointed to pay by the poil :" which agreeth not with 
the Case : and tbat " It was hOt vell to bring examples out 
of weak rimes; whereas we lire in better: but it was a 
marvellous fault, the blarne was hot laid upon the rebels of 
that Age." 
Tbose are such poor things, that they are hot worth the 
an swering. 
But rny Objection, in truth, prevailed so far, that in the 
printed book, it was qualified thus: Poll mono, , othcr ])crsots, 
and upon somc occasion.s. 
\Vhere, obitcr, I may observe that my refusing to sign the 
Sermon, is hot to be judged by tbe printed book: for many 
things are altered in one, which were in the other. 
To the Fifth (Page 12). It is in the bottom, Iïcw of 
fhe reign of HENRY III., whether it be fit to give such 
allowance to the book; being surreptitiously put out ? 
To this, it was said, " That being a good passage out of a 
blameworthy book, there was no harm in it." 
But before the question of SmTHORP'S treatise ; the Bishop 



bp. G. bbot.-] 
? July x6eT. j AND BIsttoP L_kUD'S .,t.v5IIEA'S TO TIIEM. 

of BATH himself, being vith me, found much fault with that 
ïreatise, as being put out for a scandalous Parallel of those 
rimes. 
To the Sixth, in the saine page. Let the largenessof 
those vords be well considered ! Yca, all Antiquity tobe 
absohth'ly for A bsolute Obcdience fo Prbccs, in all Civil and 
Tcmporal Thin,çs. For such cases as NABOTH'S Vineyard 
may fall within this. 
Here the Bishop was as a man in a rage, and said, " That 
it was an odious comparison  for it must suppose, that there 
must be an AHAB, and there must be a JEZEBEL, and I cannot 
tell what  " 
But I ara sure my Exception standeth true; and reviling 
and railing doth not satisfy my argument. Ail Anliquity 
taketh the Scripture into it: and if I had alloxved that 
proportion for good, I had been justly aten with my own 
If the King, the next day, had commandedme to send him 
all the monev and goods I had ; I must, by mine own rule, 
bave obeyed [aina [ and if he had commanded the like to all 
the clergymen in England, by Doctor SIBTHORP'S proportion 
and my Lord of CANTERBURY'S allowing of the saine ; they 
must have sent in all and left their wives and children in a 
miserable case. 
Yea, the words extend so far, and are so absolutely de- 
livered, that by this Divinity, If the King should send to the 
city of London, and the inhabitants thereof, commanding 
them "to give unto him all the wealth which they have," 
thev are bound to do it  
I -know our King is so gracious, that be will attempt no 
such matter: but if he do it hot, the defect is hot in these 
flattering Divines[ who, if they were called to question for 
such doctrine, they would scal'ce be able to abide it. 
There is a Mcum and a Tuum in Christian commomvealths, 
and accordiçg fo Laws and Customs, Princes may dispose of it. 
That saying being true, Ad rcgcs, #otcslas omnium #ertinct, ad 
singztlos, proprictas. 
To the Seventh (p. t4-), Pxçs V. was dead before the 
year x58o; they make no reply, but mend it in the 
printed book; changing it into GaoY XIII. 
To the last (on the saine page). Weigh it well 



, [-Abp. G. Abbot. 
554 2xBP- S SANCTION COVETED FOR BAD DEEDS. L ".' july x627. 

Hoxv this Loan may be called a Tribute ; and when it 
is said, ll'e arc promiscd it sha!l hot be immodcratcly 
i»os.cd. How that agreeth with His Majesty's Com- 
mission and Proclamation, which are quoted in the 
margent ? 
They make no answer but in the published Sermon, dis- 
tinguish a Tribute ff'oto a Loan or Aid: whereby they 
acknowledge it was hot well before, and indeed it was im- 
proper and absurd : worthy of none but Doctor SIBTHORP. 

I have noxv delivered the grounds, xvhereupon I refused to 
authorise this book : being sorrv at my heart, that the King, 
my gracious Master, sbould rest so'great a building upon so 
weak a foundation ; tlle Treatise being so slender, and with- 
out substance, but that it proceeded from a hungry man. 

If I had been in Council, xvhen tbe Project for this Loan 
was first handled, I would bave used my best reasons to have 
had it well grounded ; but I ,,'as absent, and knew not where- 
upon they proceeded : only I saw, it was followed with much 
vehemency. And since it was put in execution, I did not 
interpose myself to know the grounds of one, nor of the 
other. 
It seemed therefore strange unto me, that, in the upshot 
of the business, I was called in, to make that good by 
Divinity, which others had done; and must have no other 
inducement to it, but Doctor SIt3THORP'S contemptible 
treatise ! 
I imagined this, for the manner of the carriage of it, to be 
somewhat like unto the Earl of SOMERSET'S case; who 
having abused the wife of the Earl of ESSEX, must bave ber 
divorced from her husband, and must himself marrv her. 
And this must not be done; but that the Archbishop of 
CANTERt3URY must ratiO' all, judicially ! 
I know the cases are different; but I only compare the 
manner of the carriage. 

When the approbation of the Sermon xvas by me refused, it 
was carried to the ]3ishop of LOSDON, who gave a great and 



Abp.? JulyG" Ahhot1627._].-] T I E F   C  T O F D R . \V o P.  . L " 5 5 S 

stately allowance of it lit was cntercd at Stationcrs" Hall, 
,o,dcr his authority, on the 3rd M9,, 162 7" : the good man 
being not willing that anything should stick which was sent 
unto him ff'oto the Court ; as appeareth by the book which in 
commonly called The Scvc» Sacramctts, which was allowed 
by his Lordship, with all the errors ! which since that time 
have been expunged and taken out of it. 

But before this passed the Bishop's file, there is one 
accident which fitly cometh in to be recounted in this place. 
My Lord of LONDON bath a Chaplain, Doctor \VORRAL by 
name ; who is scholar good enough, but a kind of free fellow 
like man, and of no very tender conscience. 
Doctor SIBTHORP' Sermon was brought unto him; an6 
"hand over head" as the proverb is, he approved it, and 
subscribed his name unto it: but afterwards, being better 
advised, he sendeth it to a learned gentleman of the Inner 
Temple ; and writing some few lines unto him, craveth his 
opinion of that which he had done. 
The Gentleman read it; but although he had promised toe 
return his judgement by letter, yet he refused so to do : but 
desired Doctor \VORRAL would corne himself. \Vhich being 
done, he spake to this purpose, " \Vhat have you done ? You 
bave allowed a strange book yonder[ which, if it be true, 
there is no ;tlcum or Tuum [ no man in Egland hath anv- 
thing of his own! If ever the ride turns, and matters le 
called to a reckoning ; you will be hanged for publishing such 
a book !" 
To which, the Doctor answered, " Yea, but my hand is tc 
it ! What shall I do?" 
For that, the other replied, " You must scrape out your 
name ! and do not surfer so much as the sign of any letter to 
remain in the paper !" 
Which, accordingly he did ; and withdrew his finger fl'om 
the pie. 

But what the Chaplain, well advised, would not do; his. 
Lord, without sticking, accomplished: and so, being un- 
sensibly hatched, it came flying into the world ! 
But in my opinion, the book hath persuaded very fev- 
understanding men ; and hath not gained the King, sixpence. 



[-Ahp. G. Abbot. 
356 ALL TIIE ]'EYS OF ElX'GLAND IIANG L r July,627. 

Pars Sccmz&. 

ITHERTO, I have declared, at length, ail passages 
concerningthe Sermon; and, to my remembrance, 
I have hOt quitted anything that vas worthy the 
knoving. I ana now, in the second place, to shew 
what was tbe issue of this hot allowing the 
worthy and learned Treatise. 
In the height of this question, I privately understood from 
a friend in the Court, that " for a punishment upon me, it 
was resolved that I should be sent to Canterbury, and con- 
fined there." I kept this silently, and expected GOD's 
pleasure, yet laying it up still in my mind: esteeming the 
Duke to be of tbe number of them, touching whom, TAClTUS 
,observetb, that such as are fidse in their love, are truc in their 
hate .t But whatsoever the event must be, I ruade use of the 
report, tbat jacula proevisa minus fcri,tnt. 
The Duke, at the first, was earnest with the King, that I 
naust be presently sent away before his going to sea -He lefl 
_Portsmouth, on the Rochelle Expcdition, on the 27th 
" For, saith he, " if I were gone, he would be every day at 
\Vhitehall, and at the Council table ! and there, will cross ail 
things that I have intended." 
To meet with tbis objection, I got me away to Croydon, a 
month sooner than, in ordinary years, I have used to do ; but 
the Term was ended early, and my main [strong] fit of the 
stone did call upon me to get me to the country, that there 
on horseback, I might ride on the downs : vhich I afterwards 
performed, and, I thank GOD! found great use of it in re- 
covering of my stomach, wlaich was almost utterly gone. 
The Duke hastened lais preparations for the fleet : but still 
that cometh in for one memorandum, "That if he were once 
absent, there should no day pass over but that the Arch- 
bishop would be with the King, and infuse things that would 
Le contrary to lais proceedings." 
\Vhat a miserable and restless thing ambition is! \Vhen 
One talented, but as a common person; yet by the favour of 
his Prince, bath gotten that Interest, that, in a sort, ail the 



bp. G. Abbot.'] , , 
? Julyt6/.l AT TIIE DUKE OF BUCKINGIIASI S GIRI)I.E. 557 

Keys of England bang at his girdle (which the wise Queen 
ELIZ,gETI vould never endure in any subject) ; yet standeth 
in his own heart, in such tickle terms, as that he feareth 
every shadow, and thinketh that the lending of the King's 
ear unto any grave and well seasoned report, may blov him 
out of all! which in his estimation, he thinketh is settled on 
no good foundation, but the affection of the Prince : which 
may be mutable, as it is in ail men, more or less. If a man 
would wish harm unto his enemy; could he wish him 
greater torment, than to be wrested and vringed with ambi- 
tious thoughts ! 
Well, at first, it went current, that "witb ail baste, I must 
be doffed !" but, upon later consideration, " it must be stayed 
till the Duke be at sea, and then put in execution by the- 
King himself ; tbat, as it seemeth, Bt'CmNGH,Xi migbt be fiee 
ri'oto blame, if any should be laid upon any person." 
Hence it vas, that, after his going, there vas a nev prose- 
cution of the Yorkshire men; and the refusing Londoners 
were pursued more fervently than before: and it is very 
likely that the arrow came out of the saine quiver, that the 
Bishop coming to the election at \Vestminster, vas driven 
back so suddenly to I3u,den. 
Take heed of these tbings, noble Duke! You put your 
King to the vorst parts! whereof you may hear, one day! 
So when your Sovereign, in the Parliament time, had spoken 
sharply to both Houses, commanding them " To go together 
again, and to give more money! " and commanding them 
"meddle no more with the Duke of ]3UCmNGI,i!" you 
came, the next day, and thought to smooth all, taking the 
glory of qualifying disturbances to yourself! Whereas, if 
)-ou read books of truc State Government (vherewithal you 
are not acquainted !), sveet things are personally to be acted 
by Kings and Princes, as giving of honours, and bestowing of 
noted benefits ; and those things that are sour and distasting, 
are to be performed by their lX,linisters. You go the contrary 
vay ! 
But as before the whole house falleth on tire, some sparks 
do fly out ; so, before the message of the King was brought 
by the Secretary [of State, there were some inklings that 
such a thing would follow. And upon the naming of me, 
by occasion [incidentally], it xvas said by a creature of the 



r  ÇAbp. G. Abhot. 
5 S CONWAY CONVEVS TtlE I(ING S COMMAND L :' Julyx621. 

Duke, that "It would hOt be long, before the Archbishop 
should be sequestered!" that was the word. So well ac- 
quainted are the Duke's followers, with great actions that are 
likely to fall out in State. 

Accordingly on Tuesday, the 5th of July, 1627, the Lord 
COrWA" [Secretary of State] came to me to Croydon, before 
dinner-time ; "haviug travelled," as he said, "a long journey 
that morning, even from Oatlands thither." 
He would say nothing till he had dined. Then, because 
he was to return to Oatlands that night, I took him into the 
gallery: and when we were both sat down, we fell to it, in 
this manner. 
My Lord! I know you, coming from Court, bave some- 
what to say to me. 
Sccrctao,. It is true, My Lord ! and I ara the most unwil- 
|ing man in the world, to bring unpleasing news to any 
Pet'son of Quality, to whom I wish well; and especially to 
such a one, as of whose meat I bave eaten, and been merry 
at his house: but I corne from the King, and must deliver 
lais pleasure (I know who you are! and much more) with 
very civil language. 
Archbish@. I doubt not, my Lord! but you have some- 
what to say ; and therefore, I pray you, in plain terres, let me 
have it ! 
Sccrctary. It is then His Majesty's pleasure, that 3-ou 
should withdraw yourself unto Canterbury! for which, he 
will afford you sonle convenient time. 
Archbishop. Is that it! Then I must use the words of 
the Psalmist, " He shall not be afraid of any evil tidings ; for 
his heart standeth fast, and believeth in the LORD ! " But, 
I pray you, what is my fault that bringeth this upon me ? 
Secretary. The King saith, you knoxv ! 
Archbish@. Truly, I know none, unless it be that I ara 
lame ; which I cannot help. It is against my vill, and I am 
not proud of it. 
Secretary. The King bade me tell you, "That if any expos- 
tulation were used " 
Archbish@. No, I will hot use any expostulation! If it 
lehis pleasure, I will obey. I know myself to be an honest 
man, and therefore fear nothing; but, my Lord! do you 



Ab p. G..I.bbot.- l ., 
? July x6_-7._1 -3 "FILE 20kRCtlBISIIOP, TO IMPRISON IIIMSELF[ 559 

think it is for the King's service, in this sort, to send me 
avay ? 
Sccretarv. No, by GOD ! I do not think it : and so, yester- 
da3,, I told the King with an oath ; but he vill have it so. 
Archbish@. I must sa3- , as before, " He shall not be afraid of 
any evil tiding-s; for lais heart standeth fast, and he believeth in 
the LORD !" But, I pray3"ou, myLord ! is the King precisely 
set upon mv going to Canterbury. There are questions in 
law betweeia me and that town, about the liberties of my 
Archbishopric ; which I, by my oath, ana bound to maintain : 
and if I should be among them, I have many adversaries of 
the citizens. I have there some tenants, and the Dean and 
Chapter are interested in the question. I vould be unwilling 
that my servants and their peoplc should fall together by the 
ears, while I ara in the town. 
His Majesty knoweth this difference tobe between us, by 
thetoken that a suit, which I latelybrought against them, by 
a @«o lI'arrato in the King's Bench, vas stopped: justice 
being denied me, which is hot usual to be denied to any 
sub.iect; and the King well knoweth, by whose means it 
vas stayed. 
I have therefore another bouse called Foord. rive toiles 
beyond Canterbury, and more out of the way. His Majesty 
may be pleased to let me go thither. 
Secrctay. I can say nothing to that, but I xvill acquaint 
the King with it; and I conceive nothing to the contrary, but 
that His Majesty will yield so much unto you. 
I have a second Charge to deliver unto you, and that is 
that " His lIajesty will hot have you, from henceforth, to 
meddle with the ttigh Commission. He will take care that 
it shall be done otherwise." 
Archbish@. I do not doubt but it shall be better managed 
than it hath been by me : and yet, my Lord ! I will tell 3-ou, 
that, for these many years that I have had the direction of 
that Court, the time is to corne, that ever honest man did tind 
fault that he had not there justice done. 
Sccretary. It is nmv Vacation time, and so consequently 
little to do; and by Nichaelmas, His Majesty may set all in 
order. 
Archbisl@. I ana sorry the King proceedeth thus with me, 
and letteth me not know the cause. 



[-Abp. G. Abbot. 
560 TIIE ARCHBP. COMFORTED AT KNOWINO t - julyx67. 

Secreta3,. Although I have no commission to tell you so. 
Itis for a book which you would not allow, whicl» concerned 
the King's service. 
Archbishop. If that be it'; when I ara questioned for it, I 
doubt not but to give an honest answer. 
Secretary. You will never be questioned for it! 
Archbishop. Then ana I the more hardly dealt withal; to 
be Censured, and hot called to my answer. 
Secrctary. \Vell, my Lord ! I will remember that of Foord: 
and will your Grace command me any more service ? 
Archbishop. No, my Lord ! but GOD be with 3"ou ! Only 
I end where I began, with the words of the Prophet, " He 
shall not be afraid for any evil tidings ; for his heart standeth 
fast, and believeth in the LORD !" 

It comforted me hot a little, that the word was now out: 
" My confining must be, for not allowing of a book ! " I had 
rnuch ado to forbear smilinv, when I heard it: because now 
it was clear, it was hot for felony or treason that was laid to 
my charge, nor for intelligence with the Spaniards or French, 
nor for correspondency [correspondcnce] vith Jesuits and 
Seminary Priests ; I thank GOD for that ! 

I had almost forgotten that, among many other memorable 
speeches that passed between us, I used this one, that " Per- 
adventure, the King might be offended at me, because I ,vas 
no more present at the marrer of the Loan; but," said I, 
"my lameness hindered me therein ; and I hoped thereby to 
do my Master better service. Decause if ever course were 
taken to reconcile the King and his people (which if it be 
hot, this Kingdom will rue it in the end !), I would hope, 
among many others, to be a good instrument therein, since 
my hand hath not been in those bitternesses, which have, of 
late, fallen out." 
"You say well ! " said the Secretary ; "would you that I 
should tell the King so much ? " 
"Yea," said I, "if you please, I hold it hot unfit that His 
Majesty should know it." 
What he reported therein, I know not: but matters pro- 
ceeded in the former course, as if there were no regard had 
of any such thing. 



Ap. C. Abbot.-I 
y lulyx62»lTHE CAUSE OF tlIS SEQUESTRATION. 561 

The Lord CON'VAY being gone from me for two or three 
days; I expected to hear the resolution [as] to what place in 
Kent, I should betake myself. And receiving no news, I 
tossed many things in my mind, as perhaps that the King 
desired to hear somewhat from the Duke, how he sped on 
his journey [eedition] ; or that peradventure he might alter 
his purpose, upon report of my ready obeying; or that it 
might so fall out, that some of the Lords at the Court, 
understanding, upon the Secretary's return from Croydon, 
that which was formerly concealed from them, might infuse 
some other counsels into the King. 
These thoughts I revolved. At last,not forgetting the courses 
of the Court, and imprinting that into my heart, that there 
was no good intended towards me, but that any advantage would 
be taken against me, I sent a man to \Vhitehall, whither the 
King was now corne for a night or two, and by him, I wrote 
to the Lord CONWAY, in these words 

]_f Y VER Y GOOD LORD» 
] Do hot .[orget the message, which you brought unto me 
on Thursday last ; and because I have heard nothing 
from you since that time, I send this messenger on 
iburpose to lnow what is resolved touching the bouse or 
bouses where I must remain. There belong fo the Archbisholbric, 
three houses i, Kent : o»e at Canterbury ; another rive toiles 
beyond, called Foord ; and a third, on the side of Canterbury, 
but two toiles off, the naine whereof is Beeksburn. 
I #ray your Lordshilb fo let me lnow His Majesty's fleasure, 
whether he will leave the choice of any of those bouses fo rcside in, 
fo me ? 
I bave reason fo know the resolution thereof : because I must 
make my rovision of wood and coals and hay for some definite 
place; and whe, I shall bave brewed, it is fit I should know 
wloere fo put if, or else if will hot serve tloe turn. Itis an 
unseasonable rime to brew now, and as untimely fo eut wood (it 
being green in the highest degree), and fo make coals ; without all 
which, my House cannot be ket. But when I shall know what 
must be my habitation, I will send down my servants resently [at 
once] to make the best #rovision they can. 
E2va. G. IV. 36 



['Abp. G. Abbot. 
.62 THE KING EXPECTS, THAT HE SHALL NOT L ? July i6. 

And so, exbectinç your Lordshiib's answer, I leave you to the 
Almighty, and remain, 
Your Lordshiff s very loving friend, 
er. CANT. 
Croydon, uly lO, 1627. 

He ruade my servant stay: and when he had gone up to 
know the King's pleasure, he returned me the answer 
following. 

MAY IT PLEASE YOUR RACE» 
lAmashamed, anddocon/Csn*yfault, thatlwrotenot 
to your Grace before I received your reibroof, though a 
gracious one; but, in truth, I did hot neglect, nor 
 forget : but the contimal oppression of business would 
hot îbermit me to advertise fo your Grace, the King's A nswer. 
His Majesty heard seriously your lbrofessions and answers, and 
comnmnded me fo signify unto you that "He knew no! the present 
differences between you and the town Il.e., of Canterbury] ; and 
if he had, he would hot bave cas! you into that inconvenience." 
He was well îbleased you should go to your bouse af Foord ; alu 
said, "He did hot exibect when the question was ended between 
your Grace and the town, fhat you should go fo Canterbury." 
And he further said, "He would hot tie you to so short a tin, e, 
as might be any way inconvenient ; but doth expect that your 
Grace will govern if so, as His Majesty shall hot need o warn you 
a second rime." 
I will hot #il fo nwve His Majesty to give yo liberly to choose 
either of the bouses you naine, and give you knowledge of his 
pleasure, and in all things be ready to obey your commandmeMs, 
or take occasion to serve you in the condition of 
Your Grace's 
Most humble servant, 
CONWAY. 
WMtehall, yuly IO, 1627. 

I could hOt but observe therein that passage, that the King 
doth expect your Grace will so govern it, as His Majesty shall hot 
need to warn you a second rime. 



/t, bp. G. Abbot.-] 
. July,62»A NEED TO GIVE A SECOND WARNING! 563 

I needed no interpreter to expound those words, and there- 
fore did take order that one of my officers was presently 
despatched unto Foord, to see the house ready. 

While necessaries were caring for, and I lay for some days 
at Croydon, and afterwards at Lambeth ; the city of London 
was filled with the report of " my confining" (for so they did 
terre it), and divers men spake diversely of it. 

I xvill not trouble myself to mention some idle things; 
but some other of them require a little consideration. A 
main matter, that the Duke was said "to take in iii part," 
was the resort which was ruade to my house, at the rimes 
of dinner and supper, and that, oftentimes, of such as did not 
love him. 
My answer unto that is, That, by nature, I have been given 
to keep a house according to my proportion, since I have had 
any means, and GOD hath blessed me in it. That it is a 
property, by Saint PAUL required in a I3ishop, that " He 
should be given to hospitality"; that it is another of his 
rules, " Let your conversation be without covetousness!" 
and those things, I had in mine eyes. I3esides I have no 
wife, nor child : and as for my kindred, I do that for them 
which I hold fit ; but I will not rob the Church, nor the poor, 
for them ! 
Again, it is so rare a fault in these things, that men not 
feeding on the King's meat, but of their own charge, should 
frankly entertain their friends when they corne unto them; 
that I deserve to be pardoned tor it ! 
But this is not ail. When King JAMES gave me the 
I3ishopric, he did once between him and me, and anotaher 
rime before the Earl of SALISBURY, charge me that" I should 
carry my house nobly ! " that was His Majesty's xvord, " and 
live like an Archbishop ! " which I promised him to do. And 
when men came to my house, who were of all Civil sorts, I 
gave them friendly entertainment : not sifting what exceptions 
the Duke ruade against them; for I knew he might as un- 
deservedly think ill of others, as he did of me. But I meddled 
with no man's quarrels : and if I should have received none, 
but such as cordially, and in truth had loved him ; I might 
have gone to dinner many times without company ! 



 Abp. G. Abbot. 
564 THé. /RCHBP. S VISITORS AT LAMBETtI,[ . July,627. 

There, frequented me Lords Spiritual and Temporal, divers 
Privy Councillors, as occasion served, and men of the highest 
rank: where, if the Duke thought that we had busied our- 
selves about him, he was much deceived. Yet, perhaps the 
old saying is true, " A man who is guilty of one evil to him- 
self; thinketh that ail men that talk together, do say some- 
what of him ! " I do hot envy him that happiness ; but let it 
ever attend him ! 

As for other men, of good sort, but of lesser quality ; I have 
heard some by naine, to vhom exception has been taken : and 
these are three. I know from the Court by a friend, that my 
house, for a good space of time, hath been watched ; and I 
marvel that they have hot rather named sixty, than three. 
The First of these, is Sir DUDLEY DIGGES, a very great 
mote in the Duke's eye, as I am informed : for it is said that 
this Knight hath paid him in Parliament, with many sharp 
speeches. If this be so, yet what is that to me ? He is of 
age to answer for himself ! 
But in the time of the late Parliament, when the Earl of 
CARLISLE came unto me, and dealt with me thereabouts; I 
gave him my xvord, and I did it truly, that I was not ac- 
quainted with these things : only, being sick as I was, I had 
in general given him advice that he should do nothing that 
might give just offence to the King. And I have credibly 
heard that xvhen Sir DUDLEY was last in the Fleet, committed 
fl-om the Council table; he was much dealt with, to know 
whether he was hOt instigated by me to accuse the Duke in 
Parliament : the Knight, with ail the protestations and as- 
surances that could corne from a Gentleman, acquitted me of 
the part and whole: wherein he did me but right." 
And I do remember, when that man, now so hated [ was a 
great servant of the Duke. So that if he have now left him, 
it cannot but be presumed that it is for some unworthy 
carriage, which the Gentleman conceiveth hath, by that Lord, 
been offered unto him. 
Moreover, how can I but imagine the words and actions of 
Sir DUDLEY DIGGES have been ill interpreted and reported ; 
when I myself saxv the Duke stand up nine times in a morn- 
ing, in a Parliament House, to fasten upon him words little 
less, if at all less than treason ; when by the particular rotes 



• bp. G. Abbot.-] 
 July6. PENDING HIS REMOVING TO OORD. 6 

of ail the Lords and Commons in both Houses, he xvas quit 
!acquitted] of t,ose things, which the other would bave 
enforced upon him. And a little while before, he was hastily 
clapped into the Tower; and within a day or two released 
again, because nothing was proved against him ! 
And I assure you, I anl so little interested in his actions, 
that, to this day, I could never learn the reason why he was 
imprisoned in the Fleet ; although he was kept there for seven 
or eight weeks. 
I distinguish the King, from the Duke of BUCKINC, H.«Xf. 
The one is our Sovereign, by the laws of GODand men ! the 
other, a subject ! as we are : and if any subject do impeach 
another, though of different degrees; let the party grieved, 
remedy himself by Law, and not by Power! 
But, to speak further for this Knight, I may not fol'get that 
when he was publicly employed (one time to the Hague, a 
second time to Muscovia, and thirdly into Ireland about 
Affairs of the State), such opinions as were then held of his 
good endeavours. 
As for my own part, ever since the days of Queen ELtZa- 
ETH, I bave been nearly acquainted with him. He was my 
pupil at Oxford, and a very towardly one ; and this knowledge, 
each of the other, bath continued unto this time. He calleth 
me, Father; and I term his wife, my daughter. His eldest 
son is my godson ; and their children are in love accounted 
my grandchildren. 

The Second that I have heard named, was Sir FRANCIS 
HARRINGTON : a Gentleman, whom for divers years, I have 
hot seen; and vho, for ought I knoxv, was never in my house 
but once in his life. 
The Third was Sir THOMAS \VENTWORTH [.Z]lO after FEL- 
TON murdcred 13 U«KINGHAM o the 2 3rd A ugust, 1628, wen t over 
to the Court, and ultimately became Earl of STRAFFORD] ; who 
had good occasion to send unto me, and sometimes to seeme ; 
because we were joint executors to Sir GEORGE SAVILE, who 
married his sister, and was my pupil at Oxford. To whose 
son also, Sir THOMAS \VENTWORTH and I were Guardians, 
as may appear in the Court of \Vards; and many 
things passed between us in that behalf: yet, to my 
remembrance, I saw not this gentleman but once, in these 



THE 
HIGH 
COMMISSION. 
566 TRUE USE OF THE 
/ ? Julyx6 7. 

three-quarters of a year last past If.e., since October, r626]: at 
which rime, he came to seek his brother-in-law, the Lord 
CLIFFORD, who was then with me at dinner at Lambeth. 

For one of the punishm.ents laid upon me, it was told me 
by the Lord CoNwA r, that " I must meddle no more with 
the High Commission." Accordingly, vithin a few days 
after, a \Varrant is sent to the Attorney-General, that the 
Commission must be renewed, and the Archbishop must be 
left out. This, under hand, being buzzed about the town, 
with no small mixture of spire; I conceived it to be agree- 
able to [correspond with] the proceedings with [agabtst] the 
Lords and Gentlemen, vho refused to contribute to the Loan : 
they ail being laid aside in the Commissions for Lieutenancy, 
and of the Peace, in their several counties. 
For my part, I had no cause to grieve at this, since it was 
His Majesty's pleasure! but it was, by the actors therein 
understood otherwise; they supposing that this pover gave 
me the more authority and splendour in the Church and 
Commomvealth. 

To deliver therefore, truly, the state of this question. It 
cannot be denied but that it was a great point of policy for 
the establishing of order in the Ecclesiastical, and conse- 
quently Civil Estate also, to erect such a Court : whereby 
Church-men [clergy] that exorbitated [exceeded bounds] in any 
grievous manner, might be castigated and rectified; and 
such sort of crimes in the laity might be censured [judged] 
as vere of Ecclesiastical Cognisance. And, verily, this is of 
great use in the kingdom, as well for cherishing the study of 
the Civil Law, as otherwise; so that it be kept incorruptible, 
and vith that integrity as so grave a Meeting and Assembly 
requireth. This was principally my care; vho took much 
pains and spent much money that, in fair and commendable 
sort, justice was indifferently [fmpartially] administered to 
ail the King's people that had to do with us. 
But every one might see that this vas to my singular 
trouble [ For besides that to keep things in a straight course, 
sometimes in fits of the gout I was forced to be carried into 
the Court by my servants; where I could hot speak much, 
but vith difficulty: I was, at no rime, free from petitions; 



AI)p. G. Abbot.-] 
. Julyx627./ ITS GREAT COST TO TIIE ARCIIBISIIOP. 567 

from examinations; from signing of warrants to call some, 
to release others; from giving way to speeding, and forward- 
ing Acts of Court. Suitors, as their fashion is, being so im- 
portunate as that, in summer and winter, in the day and in 
the night, in sickness and health, they would not be denied ! 
These things vere daily despatched by me out of Duty; 
and more, out of Charity; no allowance of pay being from 
the King, or of fee from the subject to us that were the 
Judges. Nay, I may say more. The holding of that Court, 
in such sort as I did, was very expenseful to me, out of my 
private purse, in giving veekly entertainment to the Com- 
missioners. The reason whereof vas this. King JAMES 
being desirous, when he ruade me Archbishop, that ail 
matters should gravely and honourably be carried, directed 
me that I should always call some of the Bishops that were 
about London, and some Divines and Civilians [Doctors of 
the Civil Law], that, by a good presence, causes might be 
handled for the reputation of the action: and willed me 
withal, to imitate therein the Lord Archbishop WHITGIFT, 
who invited weekly some of the Judges to dinner, the rather 
to allure them thither. This advice proceeded from [JOHN 
BRIDGMAN] the Bishop of Durham that now is ; which was not 
iii, if it came from a good intention. 
I obeyed it, singly; and did that which vas enjoined. 
But whereas in those times, the Commissioners were but 
few: since that rime there hath been such an inundation 
of all sorts of men into that Company [i.e., the High Com- 
mission], that, without proportion, both Lords Spiritual and 
Temporal, Commissioners and not Commissioners, resorted 
thither; and divers of them brought so many of their men, 
that it was truly a burthen to me. I think it may, by my 
Officers, be justified upon oath, that since I was Archbishop, 
the thing alone hath cost me, out of my private estate [i.e., 
official income as Archbishol], one and a half thousand 
pounds; and if I did say tvo thousand pounds, it were not 
much amiss: besides all the trouble of my servants, who, 
neither directly nor indirectly, gained sixpence thereby in a 
whole year, but only travail and pains for their Master's 
honour ; and of that, they had enough ! my houses being like 
a great host[el]ry eye.l T Thursday in the Terre ; and for my 
expenses, no man glvlng me so much as thanks ! 



568 WHY THE ABP. DID NOT ATTEND COUNCIL. [_[-Abp'G'? July 1627.Abb°t" 

Noxv this being the true case, if the Church and Com- 
monwealth be well provided for, in the administration of 
justice, and regard be had of the public [welfare] ; can any 
discreet man think that the removing of me from this moles- 
ration, is any true punishment upon me? I being one that 
have framed myself to Reality, and not to Opinion: and 
groving more and more in years, and consequently into 
weakness ; having before surfeited so long of worldly shews, 
vhereof nothing is truly gained temporally but vexation of 
spirit, I have had enough of these things, and do hot dote 
upon them. The xvorld, I hope, hath round me more stayed 
and reserved in my courses. 
Nevertheless, what was expedient for this, was despatched 
by me while I lived at Lambeth and Croydon ;.albeit I xvent 
hot out of door. 

"Yea, but you were otherwise inutile, not coming to the 
Star Chamber, nor fo the Council table ?" 
My pain or weakness by the gout, must excuse me herein. 
\¥hen I was younger, and had my health, I so diligently 
attended af the Star Chamber, that, for full seven years, I 
was not one day wanting. 
And for the Council table, the sarne reason of my indis- 
position may satisfy. But there are many other things 
that do speak for me. 
The greatest matters there handled, were for money, or 
more attempts of war. 
For the one of these, we of the Clergy had done our parts 
already: the Clergy having put themselves into payments of 
Subsidy, by an Act of Parliament ; not only for these last two 
years (when the Temporalty lay in a sort dry), but yet there 
are three years behind, in which our payments run on, with 
weight enough unto us. And no man can justly doubt but 
my hand was in those grants, in a principal fashion. 
And concerning the Provisions for War, I must confess 
my ignorance in the fact. thereof. I knew hOt the grounds 
whereon the controversies were entered, in general. I 
thought that before wars were begun, there should be store of 
treasure; that it was not good fo fall out with many great 
Princes at once ; that the turning of our forces another way, 
must needs be some diminution from the King of Denmark ; 



Bp. G. Abbot.-I 
. July x627.A UCKINGHAM, TIIE GREAT CHURCH PATRON. 569 

who-,vas engaged by us into the quarrel for the Palatinate 
and Germany, and hazarded both his person and dominions 
in the prosecution of the question. These matters I thought 
upon, as one that had sometimes been acquainted with 
Councils; but I kept my thoughts unto myself. 
Again, I was never sent for to the Council table but I 
vent; saving one time, when I vas so ill that I might not 
stir abroad. 
Moreover, I was sure that there xvanted no Councillors af 
the Board ; the number being so much increased as it was. 
Besides, I had no great encouragement to thrust my 
crazy body abroad; since I saw what little esteem was 
made of me, in those things which belonged to mine own 
occupation. With Bishoprics and Deaneries, or other 
Church places I was no more acquainted; than if I had 
dwelt at Venice, and understood of them but by some 
Gazette. 
The Duke of BUCKINGHAM had the managing of these 
things, as it was generaIIy conceived. For what was he not 
fit to determine in Church or Commonwealth, in Court or 
Council, in peace or war, at land or at sea, at home or in 
foreign parts ? 
MONTAGUE had put out [#ublished] his Arminian book. 
I, three times, complained of it: but he was held up against 
me; and by the Duke magnified, as a well deserving man. 
COSENS put out his treatise, which they commonly call 
The Seven Sacraments: which, in the first edition had many 
strange things in it, as it seemeth. I knew nothing of it, but 
as it pleased [JOHN BRIDGMAN] my Lord of DURHAM, and 
[WILLIAM LAUD] the Bishop of BATH, SO the world did 
read. 
We were wont, in the High Commission, to repress obsti- 
nate and busy Papists. 
In the end of King JAMES his rime, a Letter was brought 
me, under the hand and signet of the King, that "\Ve must 
not meddle with any such matter: nor exact the twelve 
pence for the Sunday, of those which came hot to the 
Church (with which forfeit, we never meddled)." And this 
was told us to be, in contemplation of a marriage intended 
with the Lady MARY, the Daughter of France. 
Affer the death of King JAMES, such another Letter was 



ÇAbp. G. Abbot. 
570 TI:E ARCIIBP. COULD hIAKE NOTIIING OF L : juiy«2» 

brought from King CHARLES; and all execution against 
Papists was suspended. 
But when the Term was af Reading, by open divulgation 
in all Courts under the Great Seal of England, we and all 
magistrates xvere set at liberty to do as it was prescribed by 
law. And our pursuivants must have their warrants again, 
and take all the priests they can; whereof Master CROSS 
took fouïteen or fifteen in a very short space. 
Not long after, all these are set free ! and Letters corne from 
the King, under his royal signet, that "All warrants must be 
taken from our messengers, because they spoiled the Catholics, 
and carried themselves unorderly unto them, especially the 
Bishops' pursuivants:" whereas we had in all, but two; 
CRoss, my messenger, for xvhom I did ever offer to be an- 
sxverable ; and THOMLIISON, for whom my Lord of LONDON, 
I think, would do as much. But the caterpillars, indeed, were 
the pursuivants used by the sectaries [Puritans] : men of no 
value, and shifters in the world ; who had been punished and 
turned away by us, for great misdemeanours. 
But truth of religion and GOD's service was wont to over- 
rule human policies, and not tobe overruled; and I ara 
certain that things best prosper, where those courses are 
held. But be it what it may be, I could not tell what to 
make of this Variation of the Compass, since it was only 
commanded unto me, to put such and such things in exe- 
cution: but I never understood anything of the counsel, 
whereby I might give my judgement how fit or unfit they 
were, or might speak to alter the tenour; whereunto, in 
former times, I had been otherwise used. Variety [diversity] 
of reasons breedeth variety of actions. 

For the matter of the Loan, I knew not, a long rime, what 
to make of it. I was hot present when the advice was taken, 
I understood not what was the foundation whereupon the 
building vas raised; neither did ever any of the Council 
acquaint me therewith. 
I saw, on the one side, the King's necessity for money; 
and especially it being resolved that the war should be pur- 
sued. _And, on the other side, I could hot forget that in the 
Parliament, great sums were offered, if the Petitions of the 
Commons might be hearkened unto. 



Abp. G. Abbot.'] 
? Jfi|ya6a7._] TIIE FORCED LOAN; AND IS PASSIVE. 571 

It still ran in my mind, that the old and usual way was 
best ; that in kingdoms, the harmony was sweetest where the 
Prince and the people tuned well together ; that, whatsoever 
pretence of greatness [he might have], he vas but an un- 
happy man ! that set the King and the Body of the Realm at 
division; that the people, though not fit tobe too much 
cockered, yet are they that must pray ! that must pay ! that 
must fight for their Princes ! that it could not be, but [that] 
a man so universally hated in the kingdom as the Duke was, 
must (for the preservation of himself) desperately adventure 
on anything ! if he might be hearkened unto. 
These meditations I had with myself, and, GOD knoweth! 
I frequently, in my prayers, did beg that he vhom these 
things did most concern, xvould seriously think upon them. 
It ran in my mind, that this new device for money could 
hot long hold out ! that then, we must return into the High- 
way, whither it were best, to retire ourselves betimes; the 
shortest errors being the best. 
But these thoughts, I suppressed within my soul : neither 
did I ever discourage any man from lending, nor encourage 
any man to hold back ; which I confidently avouch. 
At the opening of the Commission for the Loan, I xvas sent 
for, from Croydon. It seemed fo me a strange thing: but I 
was told there that " howsoever it shexved, the King would 
have it so; there xvas no speaking against it." 
I had not heard [i.e., at any rime belote] that men, through- 
out the kingdom, should lend money against their will! I 
knew not xvhat to make of it ! But when I saxv in the in- 
structions that refusers should be sent axvay for soldiers to 
the King of Denmark; I began to remember URIAH, that 
was sent in the forefront of the battle : and, to speak truth, I 
durst not be tender in it. 
And when, afterwards, I saxv that men xvere to be put to 
their oath, " \Vith whom they had had conference, and 
whether any did dissuade them ?" and yet further beheld 
that divers were to be imprisoned ; I thought this was some- 
what a Nexv \Vorld ! yet, all this while, I svallowed my oxvn 
spittle, and spake nothing of it to any man. 
Nay, when after some trial in Middlesex ; the first sitting 
xvas for Surrey, in my House [the Palace] at Lambeth ; and 
the Lords were there assembled, xvith the Justices of the 



572 THE DUKE WOULD UPSEI" ALL TItE LAXVS. [-Abp. G. Abbot. 
I_. ? July x627. 

whole county: I gave them entertainment in no mean 
fashion. 
And I sat with them, albeit I said nothing ; for the con- 
fusion was such, that I knew hot what to make of it. Things 
xvent on everv day, and speech was of much money to be 
raised out of"some counties, yet afterwards it was hot so 
readily paid as preferred [ ? dcferred] : and, st length, some 
refused, even in London itself, and Southwark; besides rnany 
gentlemen of special tank, and sorne Lords, as it was said. 
And though it vas reported that "they were but acontemptible 
company !" yet the prisons in London demonstrated that they 
were hot a very few, but persons both of note and number. 
The Judges, besides, concurring another way, that "They 
could not allow the legality of the demand, and the enforce- 
ment that is used thereupon," did somewhat puzzle me, for 
being too busy in promoting of that for which I might, one 
day, suffer. Yet, hitherto, I remained silent; hoping that 
rime xvould break that off which was almost corne to an 
absolute period [full stop]. 

But instead of this, by the permission of GOD, I xvas 
called up to the King, to look clearly into the question. 
\Vhen the allowance of SI3a'IJoRP's pamphlet was put upon 
me, I had then some reason, out of the grounds of that 
sermon to fear (and I pray GOD that my fear xvas in vain !) 
that the Duke had a purpose to turn upside down the Laxvs, 
and the whole Fundamental Courses, and Liberties of the 
Subject : and to leave us, hot under the Statutes and Customs 
which our progenitors enjoyed; but to the Pleasure of Princes, 
of whom, as some are gentle and benign, so some others, to 
ingreat themselves [make thcmselves grcater], might strain more 
than the string will bear. 
Besides, now it came in my heart, that I was present at 
the King's Coronation : where many things, on the Prince's 
part, were solemnly promised ; which, being observed, would 
keep ail in order, and the King should have a loving and 
faithful people, and the Commons should have a kind and 
gracious King. 
The contemplations of these things made me stay mv 
judgement, hot any unwillingness to do mv Prince any dutiftl 
service : whom I must, and do honour abve ail the creatures 



Abp.G. Abbot.-]. July t627._J EYE-WITNESS PORTRAIT OF BUCKINGIIAM. 573 

in the v«orld, and will adventure as far for his true good, as 
any one whatsoever. 
But I ara loath to plunge myself, so over head and ears, 
in these difficulties, that I can neither liMe with quietness of 
conscience, nor depart out of the vorld with good faine and 
estimation. And, perhaps, my Sovereign (if, hereafter, he 
looked well into this paradox) would, of all the world hate 
me! because one of my profession, age, and calling, would 
deceive him ; and, with base flattery, swerve from the truth. 
The hea»'ts of Kings are i the hands of GOD, and He can 
fhe» as rivers of water. 

] DR^W to a conclusion. Only repute it not amiss, 
because so much falleth in here, to observe a few 
words of the Duke of BUCKINGHAM--not as now he 
is, but as he ",vas in his rising. 
I say nothing of his being in France, because I was hOt 
present ; and divers others there be, that remember it well : 
but I take him at his first repair to Court lin 1614]. 
King JAltES, for many insolencies, grew weary of SOMER- 
SET: and the Kingdom groaning under the Triumvirate of 
NORTHAMPTON, SUFFOLK, and SOMERSET (though NORTH- 
^ItPTOI soon after died [iJ oTztnc, 1614] ) ",vas glad to be rid of 
him. 
\Ve could bave no way so good to effectuate that which 
was the common desire, as to bring in another in his room. 
" One nail," as the proverb is, "being to be driven out by 
another." 
It was now observed that the King began to cast his eye 
upon GEORGE MILLIERS, who was then Cup-bearer, and 
seemed a modest and courteous youth. But King JAMES 
had a fashion, that he would never adroit any to nearness 
about himself, but such a one as the Queen should commend 
unto him, and make some suit on his behalf: that if the 
Queen, afterwards, being ill intreated, should complain of 
this " Dear One ! " ; he might make his answer, " It is 'long 
of yourself! for you vere the party that commended him 
unto me ! " Out old Master took delight strangely, in things 
of this nature. 
That noble Queen, who now resteth in heaven, knew ber 



Abp G Abbot 
574THE ABP. HELPS TtlE DUKE'S ADVANCEMENT, E . "Jly x6z7 

husband well ; and having been bitten xvith Favourites, both 
in England and Scotland, was very shy to adventure upon 
this request. 
King JAMES, in the meantime, more and more loathed 
SOMERSET; and did not much conceal it, that his affection 
increased towai'ds the other. 
But the Queen would not corne toit; albeit divers Lords 
(whereof some are dead ; and some, yet living) did earnestly 
solicit Her Majesty thereunto. 
When it would not do; I was very much moved [i.e., 
desired by others] to put to, my helping hand : they knowing 
that Queen ANNE was graciously pleased to give me more 
credit than ordinary; which, ail her attendants knew, she 
continued to the time of her death. 
I laboured much, but could hot prevail. The Queen oft 
said to me, " My Lord! you and the rest of your friends 
know not what you do! I know your Master better than 
you all ! For if this young man be once brought in, thc first 
persons that he will plague, must be you that labour for him ! 
Yea, I shall have my part also! The King will teach him 
to despise and hardly intreat us ail; that he [BucKtlVHAM] 
may seem to beholden to none but himself." 
Noble Queen! how like a Prophetess or Oracle did you 
speak [ 
Notwithstanding this, xve were still instant, telling Her 
Majesty that "the change would be for the better! for 
GEORGE was of a good nature, which the otherwas not ; and 
if he should degenerate, yet it would be a long time before he 
were able to attain to that height of evil, which the other 
had." 
In the end, upon importunity, Queen AlêNE condescended 
[agreed fo it]; and so pressed it with the King, that he 
assented thereunto: which was so stricken, while the iron 
was hot, that, in the Queen's Bedchamber, the King 
knighted him with a rapier which the Prince [CHARLES] did 
wear. And when the King gave order to swear him of the 
Bedchamber, SOMERSET (who was near) importuned the 
King with a message that he might be only sworn a Groom. 
But myself and others, that were at the door, sent to Her 
Majesty that " She would perfect herwork, and cause him to 
be sworn a Gentleman of her Chamber !" 



Abp. G. Abbot.'] 
 July z67._] AND GIYES HIM THREE WORTHY COUNSELS. 575 

There is a Lord, or two, living that had a hand in this 
achievement. I diminish nothing of their praise for so 
happy a work: but I know my oxvn part best; and, in the 
word of an honest man, I have reported nothing but truth. 
GEORGE went in with the King; but no sooner he got 
loose, but he came forth unto me, in the Privy Gallery, and 
there embraced me. He professed that " He was so infinitely 
bound unto me that, ail his lire long, he must honour me as 
his father." And now, he did beseech me, that I would give 
him some Lessons how he should carry himself. 
When he had earnestly followed this chase, I told him, 
I would give him three short lessons, if he xvould learn them. 
The First was, That, daily, upon his knees, he 
should pray to GOD to bless the King his Master, and 
to give him (GEOR6E) grace studiously to serve and 
please him. 
The Second was, That he should do all good offices 
between the King and the Queen ; and between the King 
and the Prince. 
The Third was, That he should fill his Master's ears 
with nothing but truth. 
I made him repeat these three things unto me: and then 
I would have him, to acquaint the King with them! and 
so tell me, when I met him again, xvhat the King said unto 
him. 
He promised he would. And the morrow after, Master 
THOMAS ]V]URRAY (the Prince's Tutor) and I standing to- 
gether, in the gallery at \Vhitehall, Sir GEORGE VILLIERS 
coming forth, and drawing to us, he told Master [URRAY 
how much he xvas beholden unto me, and that I had given 
him certain instructions: which I prayed him to rehearse: 
as, indifferently well he did, before us. Yea, and that he 
had acquainted the King with them ; who said, " They were 
instructions worthy of an Archbishop, to give to a young 
man." 
His countenance of thankfulness continued for a few days, 
but not long! either to me or any others, his xvell wishers. 
The Roman historian, TacITvs, bath somewhere a note that 
" Benefits, while they may be requited, seem courtesies ; but 
when they are so high, that they cannot be repaid, they 
prove matters of hatred." 



 ÇAbp. G. Abbot. 
576 THE GOOD ARCHBP. S CONCLUDING PRAYER. L  ju[y x62, 

Hus, to lie by me, to quicken my remembrance, I 
I have laid down the Cause and the Proceedings of 
t my sending [being sent] into Kent ; where I remain 
 at the writing of this Treatise. Praying GOD, to 
bless and guide our King aright ! to continue the prosperity 
and welfare of this Kingdom, which, at this time, is shrewdly 
shaken! to send good and worthy men to be Governors 
[i.e., Bishops] of our Church ! to prosper my mind and body, 
that I may do nothing that may give a wound to my con- 
science! and then, to send me patience quietly to endure 
whatsoever His Divine Majesty shall be pleased to lay upon 
me ! Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis .t and, in the end, to give 
me such a happy deliverance, either in life or death, as may 
be most for His glory; and for the wholesome example of 
others ! who look much on the actions and passions of Men 
of rny Place. 



577 

]EN JONSON, 

./lmwer to IV[aster l'z rH2ï x's SoTg, 

Shall I, wasting in despair. 

[Which Song originally appeared in the privately printed edition of 
tIDELLI, in 617 ; and was incorporated, with some variations in the text, 
in Fair IQRTUE iii 1022, as may be seen atfi. 454- JONSON's Parody was 
printed in a very rare Collection, entitled A DescritStion of Love : witlt 
çertain lz'igt'ams, lz'&2¢i«s , and 5"om«ets, &c., the Second Elition of which 
was printed in 62o. We have here used a copy of the Sixth Edition of 
629, in the British Museum ; press mark, C. 39- a.] 

xV I T H ER. 

[I.4LL I, wasting in dcs/mir, 
Dic, bccause a woman s Fair ? 
Or my chccks ,takc pale with care, 
'Cause anothcr s rosy are ? 
Bc She faircr than thc Da3', 
Or the flowco' mcads in May ! 
If Shc be hot so to roc, 
|Vhat care I, how Fair She be ? 

Exc. A,. IV. 

JONSON. 

Shall I, mine affections slack, 
'Cause I see a voman's Black ? 
Or myself, with care cast down, 
'Cause I sec a woman brown ? 
Be She blacker than the night, 
Or the blackest jet in sight ! 
If She be not so to me, 
\Vhat care I, how Black She be ? 
37 



578 Joso's Pr, ODV O»" WITIIER'S SONG, [ B. Jonon.$ x6,,. 

"VITH E R. 

Should my foolish hiart be pincd, 
'Cause I sec a woman Kiud ? 
Or a well disposèd nature 
oind with a comely fcature ? 
Be Shc kind, or mcekcr than 
Turtle àove, or pclican ! 
If She bc uot so to 
IVhat care I, how Fait She be ? 

JONSON. 

Shall my foolish heart be burst, 
'Cause I see a voman's curst ? 
Or a thwarting hoggish nature 
Joinèd in as bad a feature ? 
13e She curst, or fiercer than 
Brutish beast, or savage man ! 
If She be not so to me, 
Nhat care I, how Curst She be ? 

V ITIt ER. 

Shall a woman's rb'tues make 
Me fo perish for hcr sake ? 
Or ber mcrits' vahte known., 
Make ne quitc foet mine own ? 
Be She with that Goodncss blcst 
Which may mcrit namc of Best ! 
If She secm »wt so to 
IVhat care I, how Good She be ? 



JONSON. 

Shall a woman's vices make 
lXle her vices quite forsake ? 
Or her faults to me make known, 
lXlake me think that I have none ? 
Be She of the most accurst, 
And deserve the name of worst ! 
If She be hot so to me, 
What care I, how/3ad She be ? 

,VI TII E R. 

'Cause hcr fortmtcs sccm too hçffh, 
Shottld I lay thc fool, and dic ? 
Ho that bcars a noble tind, 
If Itot ottlward hcllb hc find ; 
Think, what, with thcm, hc wonld do ; 
That, without thcm, darcs lo zeoo .t 
,ltd ttnlcss that mind I scc, 
lI'hat carc I, how Grcat Shc bc ? 

JoNsoN. 

'Cause ber fortunes seem too low, 
Shall I therefore let her go ? 
He that bears an humble mind 
And with riches can be kind. 
Think how kind a heart he'd have, 
If he vere some servile slave ! 
And if that saine mind I see, 
What care I, how Poor She be ? 



5o JONSON'S PARODY OF WITIIER'S SONG. 

WITHER. 

Great, vr Good, or Khtd, or Fait', 
I will ne'er the more despah" ! 
If She love me (thcn belicve ! ) 
I will dic, crc She shall grievc ! 
If Shc slight me, whcn I woo ; 
I eau scorn, and let hcr go .t 
For if She bc hot for mi .' 
lVhat care I, for whom Shc bc ? 

JONSON. 

Poor, or Bad, or Curst, or Black, 
I will ne'er the more be slack [ 
If she hate me (then believe !) 
Sheshall die, ere I will grieve ! 
If She like me, when I voo ; 
I can like and love her too ! 
If that She be fit for me ! 
What care I, what others be ? 



TttE 

FAMOUS 

AND 

WONDERFUL 
of a Ship of Bristol, called 
Exchage, from the Turkish 
Pirates of Argier. 
WITH THE UNMATCHABLE 
attempts and good success of Jonx RawLXS, Pilot in 
her, and other slaves: xvho, in the end (xvith the 
slaughter of about forty of the Turks and Moors), 
broughî the ship into Plymouth, the 13th of 
February [6",2J last, with the Captain 
a ]?cm'.o«do, and rive Turks more; 
besides the redemption of twenty- 
four men and one boy from 
Turkish slavery. 

RECOVERY 
the 

LONDON: 
Printed for N ,¢ T H A N I E L B tf T T E R, dwelling at the 
_Pied Bull, at Saint Austen's Gate. 
6aa. 



[This Narrative, which is reprinted from a very rare copy of the original 
edition in the Bodleian Librat3,, was hOt written by RAWLINS ; but the 
unknown illustrator, or cementer of "the broken pieces of well-temperecl 
mortar," so describing himselfat . 6o7, who put the information suppliec 
by the brave Pilot, into its present shape.] 



5S3 

To the Right Honourable 
GEORGE, Marquis of BUCKINGHAM, 
Viscount VILLIERS, Baron of WIiI)I)OX, Lord High 
Admiral of England; Justice in Eyre of all His 
Majesty's Forests, Parks, and Chases beyond Trent; 
Master of the Horse to His Majesty, and one of 
the Gentlemen of His Majesty's Bed Chamber ; 
Knight of the most noble Order of the 
Garter, and one of His Majesty's 
most honourable Privy Council 
of England and Scotland. 

RIGHT HONO URA B L E 
EEING it hath Dlcascd GOD by so weak means as my 
_oor self, to t, ave His _ower and goodncss ruade man i- 
fest to thc II orld, as by this following Rclatio may 
acar : I thought it my duty to _])rcsent the saine ,nto 
you ; whom the 3Iajesty of England hath presentcd .ttnto ,ts, as ottr 
Patron, and Chicf Commander of oto" sca. affales. Accc])t it thcn, 
I hmnbly besecch .you .t as the molishcd work of a oor sailor ; 
and the rather, for that if exe,tplifies the glo O, of GOD. For by 
such ,te as mysclf, your Honour must be scrvcd, and England 
ruade thc happicst of all nations. 
For though you bave greatcr persons, and more braving sDirits 



5S4 DEDICA'I'ION TO IIAI,QUIS OF BUClçlNGHAII. [ . .t.,,: . 

to bC over o«tr hcads, and hold infcriors i, subjection ; yct are we 
thc «rien that mmt pull the ropes, weigh **lb thc anchors, toil in the 
-night, endure the storms, swcat at thc hclm, watch the biticle 
[binnacle], attend thc comlbass, guard the ordnancc, kccl the night 
hotrs, and l)c ready for all impositions. 
If, thon, you votchsafc to entcrtah it ! I havc O' d,'sire. For, 
according to the oath of .ïurors, it is " thc truth, and lhe vcry 
truth." If othcrwisc, you su,blbose it trivial ! it is only the prosti- 
tution of my service ; and II'isdom is hot bought in the markct ! 

Your Honour's humbly to be commanded, 

ffOHN lïA Il'LINS. 



585 

THE FAMOUS 
and Wonderful Rccovery of the Exchange 
of B«istol ffom the Turkish pirates 
of Argier. 
HE Psalmist saith, that " He that goeth to 
sea, shall see the wonders of GOD !" and 
I may well say, that he that converseth 
with mariners and sailors shall hear of the 
wonders of men  as by this following Dis- 
course shall appear. 
Not that I ana villing to be the author of 
novelty, or anaze you with incredible re- 

ports ; but because I would not let slip so remarkable an acci- 
dent, and so profitable a relation. Remarkable, as extending 
to manifest the power and glory of GOD, vho bath variety of 
supportation in store to sweeten affliction, and make all en- 
durances subject to fortitude and patience: profitable, as being 
thus far exemplary, to teach all men of action and employment, 
hot to despair in distress ; and to knov thus much, that brave 
attempts are compassed by resolution and industrious en» 
ployment, and whether they thrive or not, yet shall the 
entermise be Charactered with a worthy exploit. And if it 
end vith success ; 0 how shall the Actors be remembered to 
posterity ! and make their fame immortal that, either pur- 
chased their liberty, even out of tire ; or delivered themselves 
(though by death itself) from slavish captivity, or the thral- 
dom of barbarous Infidels ; who glory in nothing more than 
he perdition of our souls, and the derision of our CRIST. 
ttearken, then, I pray you ! to this following Relation! and 



586 TIIE .N'IClIOLAS CIIASED IIY TUP, KISH [:,t.,62,. 

learn thereby, as I said, both to give GOD the praise of all 
deliverances; and to instruc one another in the absolute 
duties ofChristianity. ]3y the one, the Power and Providence, 
with all the attributes belonging to so immense a Deity, shall 
be made manifest ; by the other, the weak brother shall be 
comforted, the strong confirmed, the vavering reduced, the 
faint-hearted erected, and the presumptuous moderated. B3r 
both, Religion shall bave a sweet passage in the consciences 
of men; and men made the happy instruments of GOD's 
glory, and their own increases of good example and imitation. 
And thus much for Preamble or Introduction. Now, to 
the matter itself ! 
In the year 1621, the Ist of November, there was one 
JOHN RAWLINS (born in Rochester, and dwelling three and 
twenty yeais in Plymouth) employed to the Straits of Gib- 
raltar, by Master[s] RICHARD, and STEVEN TREVlLES, 
Merchants of Plymouth ; and freighted in a bark called the 
Nicholas of Plymouth, of the burden of 40 tons: which had 
also in her company, another ship of Plymouth, called the 
George Bonaventttre, of 7 ° tons burden or thereabouts ; which, 
by reason of her greatness beyond the other, I will naine the 
Admiral [fla.-shipa, and JOHN RAWLINS'S bark shall, if yott 
please, be the Vice-Admiral. 
These two, according to the time of the year, had a fait" 
passage ; and, by the ISth of the same month, came to a 
place at the entering of the Straits, named Trafalgar; but the 
next morning [I9th November, I62I], being in the sight of 
Gibraltar, at the very mouth of the 8traits, the watch de- 
scried rive sail of ships. \Vho, as it seemed, used ail the 
means they could to corne near us; and we, as we had cause, 
used the saine means to go as far fl'om them ; yet did their 
Admiral take in both his topsails, that either we might hot 
suspect them, or that his own company might corne up the 
closer together. At last, perceiving us [to bel Christians, 
they fell from devices, to apparent discovery of hostility, and 
making out against us. \Ve again suspecting them [to bel 
pirates, took our course to escape from them ; and ruade ail 
the sails we possibly could for Terriff or Gibraltar : but ail we 
could do, could not prevent their approach. For, suddenly, 
one of them came right over against us to windward ; and so 
fell on our quarter. Another came up on out luff, and so 



' ] 57 
.llar. x622. PIRATES, AND CAPTURED BV TIIEM. 

threatened us there. And, at last, all rive chased us ; making 
great speed to surprise us. 
Their Admiral was called Callfatcr ; having upon her main- 
topsail, two topgallant sails, one above another. But 
whereas we thought them all rive to be Turkish Ships of War; 
we afterwards understood that two of them xvere their prizes 
(the one, a small ship of London, the other of the West 
Country), that came out of the Quactath, laden with figs 
and other merchandise, but noxv [vere] subject to the fortune 
of the sea, and the captivity of pirates. But to our business ! 
Three oftheseshipsgot much uponus; and somuch,that,ere 
halfthe day xvas spent, the Admiral, xvhich xvas the best sailer, 
fetched up the George Bonavcnturc, and made booty of it. 
The Vice-Admiral again, being nearest unto the lesser bark 
whereof JOHN RAWLINS was Master, shewed him the force of 
a stronger arm ; and by his Turkish name, called VILLA RISE, 
commanded him, in like sort, to strike lais sails, and submit 
to his mercy : vhich, not to be gainsaid, nor prevented, vas 
quickly done. And so RAWLIIS, vith lais bark, xvas as quickly 
taken ; although the Rear-Admiral, being the xvorst sailer of 
the three, called Riggiprise, came not in, till ail was done. 
The same day, before night, the Admiral (either loath to 
pester himself with too much company, or ignorant of the 
commodity [which] was to be made by the sale of English pri- 
soners, or daring hot to trust them in his company for fear of 
mutinies, and exciting others to rebellion) set txvelve persons 
who xvere in the George Bonavcnttre, and divers other English 
whom he had taken before, on the land, to try their fortune 
in an unknown count W. 
But VILLA Rlsn, the Vice-Admiral, that had taken JOH 
A',VLIIS, would hot so dispense vith lais men; but com- 
manded him, and rive more of lais company to be brought 
aboard his ship : leaving" in his bark, three men and his boy, 
with thirteen Turks and IXloors, xvho were, questionless, suffi- 
cient to overmaster the others, and direct the bark to harbour. 
Thus they sailed direct for Argier [A lgiers. But, the 
night folloving folloved them vith great tempest and foui 
weather, which ended hot without some effect of a storm: for 
they lost the sight of RAWLIIS'S bark, called the Nicholas; 
and, in a manner, lost themselves (though they seemed safe 
a shipboard) by fearful conjecturing what should become of us ? 



$8 SAD NEWS ON ARRIVING AT ALGIERS.[:t:.,,,. 

At last, by the 22nd of the saine month, they, or we 
.(choose you whether! for I would not be mistaken in alter- 
ing the persons, bv either naminp4 the first for the third, or 
the third for the'first ; but oniy make the discourse equal, 
by setting down the business honestly and trulv as it 
chanced) arrived in Argier; and came in safety wi(hin the 
Mole: but found hot out other bark there; nay, thoughwe 
earnestly inquired after the saine. 
Yet hal'd we nothing to out satisfaction; but much 
marrer was ministered to out discomfort and amazement. 
For although the Captain and our Overseers were loath we 
should have anv conference with our countrymen ; yet did we 
adventure to il{form ourselves of the present affairs, both of 
the town and of the shippin,. So that finding many English 
at work in other ships, they spared not fo tell us the danger 
,,ve were in, and the mischiefs we must needs incur; as being 
sure, " If xve were hot used like slaves, to be sold as slaves : for 
there had been rive hundred brought into the market for the 
saine purpose, and above a hundred handsome youths com- 
pelled to turn Ïurks ; all English !" Yet, like good Christians, 
they bade us " Be of good cheer ! and comfort ourselves in 
this ! That GOD's trials were gentle purgations ; and these 
rosses xvere but to cleanse the dross from the gold, and bring 
us out of the tire again, more clear and lovely." 

Yet, I must needs confess, that thev afforded us reason for 
"this cruehy; as if they determined to'be revenged of out last 
attempt to tire their ships in the Mole [by Sir ROBERT 
M.4,¥SELL'S flcct in May, I62L Sce .. B's. Algiers Voyage. 
i62I, and therefol'e protested " to spare none! whom they 
could surprise, and take alone; but either to sell them for 
money or to torment them to serve their own ends." 
Now their customs and usages, in both these, were in this 
manner. 
First, concerning the first. The Bashaw [Pasha] had the 
.overseeing of all prisoners who were presented unto him, at 
their first coming into the harbour ; and so chose one out of 
-êvery eight, for a present or fee to himself. The rest were 
a'ated by the Captains, and so sent to the market to be sold : 
whereat, if either there were repining, or any drawing back ; 
then certain Moors and Officers attended, either to beat you 



TNa'r. x62_.] RAWLINS'S CREW SOLD FOR SI.AVES. 59 

forward, or thrust you in the sides with goads. And this 
was the manner of the selling of slaves. 
Secondly, concerning their enforcing them, either to turn 
Turk or to attend their impieties : although it vould make a 
Christian's heart bleed to hear of the saine; yet must the 
truth not be hid, nor the terror left untold. They commonly 
lay them on their naked backs or bellies, beating them sc 
long till they bleed at the nose and mouth : and if yet they 
continue constant, then they strike the teeth out of their 
heads, pinch them by their tongues, and use many other 
sorts of tortures to convert them. Nay, many rimes, they 
lay them, their whole length, in the ground, like a grave; 
and so cover them with boards, threatening to starve them, 
if they will Hot turn. And so, many, even for fear of tor- 
ment and death, make their tongues betray their hearts to 
a most fearful wickedness : and so are circumcised with new 
names, and brought to confess a new religion. Others again, 
I must confess, who never knew any god but their own. 
sensual lusts and pleasures, thought that any religion vould 
sel¢e their turns: and so, for preferment or vealth, very 
voluntarily renounced their faith, and became Renegadoes ; in 
despite of any counsel which seemed to intercept them. 
And this was the first news we encountered with, at out 
coming first to Argier. 
The 26th of the saine montb, JoHn RaWLNS' bark, with his 
other three men and a boy, came sale into the Mole ; and so 
were put ail together, to be carried before the Bashav; but that 
they took the Owner's Servant [ ? S@ercargo] and RAWLINS'S 
boy, and, by force and torment, compelled them to turn Turks. 
Then were they in all, seven English, besides JOHN 
IAWLINS : O[ whom the Bashav took one ; and sent the rest 
to their Captains, who set a valuation upon them. So the 
soldiers hurried us, like dogs, into the market ; where, as men 
sell hackneys in England, we were tossed up and dovn, to see 
who would give most for us. And although we had heavy 
hearts, and looked with sad countenances ; yet many came to 
behold us; sometimes taking us by the hand, sometimes turn- 
.ing us round about, sometimes feeling our bravns and naked 
arms: and so beholding our prices written in out breasts, they 
bargained for us accordingly; and, at last,we were all sold, and 
the soldiers returned with their money to their Captains. 



590 TttE FITTING OUT OF TtIE .WCII.dWG. E? Ma?r-'62*- 

JoHN RAWLInS vas the last that vas sold, by reason of 
his lame hand. He was bought by the Captain that took him, 
even that dog VILLA RISE ! who (better informing himself of 
his skill fit to be a Pilot, and his experience to be an Over- 
seer) bought him and his Carpenter at very easy rates. For, 
as ve afterwards understood by divers English Renegadoes, 
he paid for RAWLINS but I5o Doublets, which make, of 
English money, £7 1os. 
Thus was he and lais Carpenter, with divers other slaves, 
sent into lais ship to work ; and employed about such affairs 
as belonged to the well rigging and preparing the saine. 
But the villainous Turks perceivmg lais lame hand, 
and that he could HOt perform so much as other slaves, 
quickly complained to their Patron : who as quicldy appre- 
hended the inconvenience ; whereupon he sent for him, the 
next day, and told him, " He was unserviceable for his present 
purpose ! and therefore unless he could procure £I 5 of the 
English there, for his ransom : he would send him up into 
the country, vhere he should never see Christendom again, 
and endure the extremity of a miserable banishment." 
But see how GOD vorketh allfor the best for His servants ! 
and confoundeth the presumption of tyrants, frustrating their 
purposes, to make His xvonders known to the sons of men ! 
and relieves His people, when they least think of succour and 
releasement ! 
Whilst JoHn RAWLIns was thus terrified with the dogged 
:answer of VILLA RISE, the Excltatge of Bristol, a ship 
formerly surprised by the pirates, lay all unrigged in the 
harbour, till, at last, one JOHN JOODALE, an English Turk, 
with his confederates (understanding she was a good sailer, 
and might be made a proper Man of \Var) bought her from the 
Turks that took her ; and prepare her for their own purposes. 
Nov the Captain that set them on work, vas also an 
English Renegado, by the naine of RAMMETHAM RISE, but by 
his Christian naine HERY CH.XNDER : who resolved to make 
(OODALE, Master over her. 
And because they were both English Turks (having the 
command, notwithstanding, of many Turks and Moors) they 
• concluded to have all English slaves to go in her; and for 
their gunners, Enlish and Dutch Renegadoes : and so they 
agreed with the Patrons of Aine English slaves and one 



 l-:r.,«2.] J. GOODALE AND TWO Tums uv RAWLINS. 591 

French for their ransoms; who were presently employed to 
rig and furnish the ship for a Man of \Var. 
And vhile they were thus busied, two of JOHN IAWLINs's, 
men ( who were taken with him), were also taken up to serve 
in this Man of \Var: their names, JAIES ROE and JOHN 
DAVlES, the one dwelling in Plymouth ; and the other in For, 
where the Commander of this ship was also born, by whidh 
occasion they became acquainted. So that both the Captain 
and the Master promised them good usage, upon the good 
service they should perform in the voyage; and withal, de- 
manded of DAVIES if he knev of any Englishman to be bought, 
hat could serve them as a Pilot ; both to direct them out of 
harbour, and conduct them in their voyage. For, in truth, 
neither was the Captain a mariner, nor any Turk in her of 
sufficiency to dispose of [mvigate) her through the Straits in 
security; nor oppose any enemy that should hold it out 
bravely against them. 
DAVES quick replied that, " As far as he understood, 
VILL. , RISE would sell JOHN IAWLINS, his Master, and Com- 
mander of the bark which was taken. A man every way 
sufficient for sea affairs, being of great resolution and good 
experience; and for all he had a lame hand, yet had he a 
sound heart and noble courage for any attempt or adventure." 
\Vhen the Captain understood thus much, he employed 
DAVlES to search for RAWLINS; who, at last lighting upon 
him, asked him, " If the Turk would sell him ? " 
RAWLINS suddenly answered, that " By reason f his lame 
hand he was willing to part with him ; but because he had 
disbursed money for him, he would gain something by him ; 
and so.priced him at 300 doublets, which amounteth to £15 
English ; which he must procure, or incure sorcr indurances." 
\Vhen DAVlES had certified thus much, the Turks a 
shipboard conferred about the matter; and the Master, 
whose Christian name was JOHN GOODALS, joined with 
two Turks who were consorted with him, and disbursed 
IOO doublets a piece, and so bought him of VILLA IISE : 
sending him into the said ship called the Exchange of 
t3ristol ; as well to supervise what had been done, as to order 
what was left mdone ; but especially to fit the sails, and to 
accommodate [fit out] the ship. Ail which, RAXVLNS was very 
careful and indulgent in ; not yet thinking of any particular 



.59 2 TtIE ].XC.t'.t'IVG.E SAILS OUT OF ALGIERS. 

plot of deliverance, more than a general desire to be fleed 
from this Turkish slavery, and inhuman abuses. 
Bv the 7th of January [I622], the sbip was prepared, with 
tvele good cast pieces, and all rnanner of munition and 
provision which beloned to such a purpose : and, the saine 
.day, hauled out of the Mole of Argier, with this company, and 
In this manner. 
There were in her sixty-three Turks and Moors, nine 
English slaves and one French, four Hollanders tbat were 
free rnen (to whom the Turks prornised one prize or other, 
and so to return to Holland ; or if they were disposed to go 
back again for Argier, they should have great revard, and no 
enforcernent offered, but continue, as they would, both their 
religion and their custorns) : and for their gunners, they had 
tvo of our soldiers, one English and one Dutch Renegado. 
And thus rnuch for the company. 
For the manner of setting out, it was as usual, as in other 
ships; but that the Turks delighted in the ostent2ati2ous 
bravery of their streamers, banners, and topsails: the ship 
being a handsome ship, and well built for any purpose. The 
slaves and English were ernployed under hatches, about the 
ordnance and other vorks of order, and accommodating 
[bcrthing] themselves. 
Ail which, JOHN RAWLINS rnarked, as supposing it an in- 
tolerable slavery to take such pains, and be subject to such 
dangers; and still to enrich other men, and rnaintain their 
voluptuous lives ; returning thernselves as slaves, and livin 
worse than dogs amongst them. Whereupon, after he had 
conceited the indignity and reproach of their baseness, and 
the glory of an exploit that could deliver himself and the rest 
frorn this slavish captivity ; being very busy arnong the 
English in pulling of ropes, and placing of ordnance, he burst 
into these, or suçh like abrupt speeches : " O hellish slavery ! 
to be tbus subject to dogs ! to labour thus to enrich infidels, 
and rnaintain their pleasures! to be ourselves slaves, and 
worse than the outcast of the world ! Is there no way of 
releasernent ? no device to free us from this bondage ? no 
exploit, no action of worth to be put in excution, to make us 
renown in the world, and famous to posterity? 0 GOD! 
strengthen my heart and hand, and something shall be done 
to ease us of these rnischiefs, and deliver us from these cruel 
Mahornedan dogs ! " 



t t,r:. ,622.-] A tOLACCA CAPTURED OFF CAPE DE GATTE. 593 

The other slaves pitying his distraction, as they thought, 
bade him, " Speak soffly ! least they should all rare the worse 
for his distemperature ! " 
" The worse ! " quoth RaWLXS, "what can be worse ? 
Death is the determiner of ail misery! and torture can last 
but a while! But to be continually a dying', and surfer all 
indignity and reproach : and, in the end, to have no welcome 
but into the House of Slaughter or Bondage, is insufferable ! 
and more than flesh and blood can endure ! And therefore, 
by that salvation which CJRIST hath brought, I wilt 
either attempt my deliverance atone time or another, or 
perish in the enterprise! but if you vould be contented to 
hearken after a release, and join with me in the action; I 
would not doubt of facilitating the saine, and shev )'ou a way 
to make your credits thrive by some work of arnazement, and 
augment your glory in purchasing your liberty [ " 
" Ay, prithee, be quiet ! " said they again, " and think not 
of impossibilitics ! Yet, if )'ou can but open such a door of 
reason and probability that ve be not condemn for desperate 
and distracted persons, in pulling the sun (as it were) out of 
the firmament; we can but sacrifice our lires! and you may 
be sure of secrecy and taciturnity !" 
"Now, blessed be my genius !" said RAWLNS, " that ever 
this motive vas so opportunely preferred ! and therefore we 
will be quiet a while, till the iron be botter, that we may hot 
strike in vain." 
The x5th January, the morning water [tidc] brought us 
near Cape de Gatte, hard by the shore; we having in out 
company, a small Turkish Ship of \Var that followed us out 
of Argier, the next day: and now joining us she gave us 
notice of seven small vessels, six of them being Sattees and 
one a Polacca ; who very quickly appeared in sight, and so 
ve ruade towards them. 
But having more advantage of the Polacca than the rest, 
and loath to lose all, we both fetched her up, and brought 
ber past hope of recovery ; which when she perceived, rather 
than she vould voluntarily corne into the slavery of the Maho- 
medans, she ran herself ashore; and so all the men forsook her. 
We still followed as near as we durst, and for fear of 
splitting [(.e., ort lhc rocks], let fall our anchors ; making out 
[scndi',@ both our boats, wherein were many musketeers and 
E.va." a.t.,c.. IV. 38 



594 TIIE IAGICIAN OF TIIE 1NEGRO S..ILORS. [: ,a:r.,6.-. 

seine English and Dutch Renegadoes: vho came aboard 
home at their congé [clztcrcd the vesscl, wit]tout opposition!, and 
round three pieces of ordnance, and four murtherers [sce 
Vol. I..1). 5oo!, but straightway threw them all overboard, te 
lighten the ship. Se they got her off, being ladened with hides, 
and logwood tbr dyeing: and presently sent her te Argier, 
taking nine Turks and one English slave out of one ship, and 
six out of the lesser ; which, e thought, sufficient te man her. 
I3ut see the chance ! or, if you vill, how tbrtune smiled on 
ls. In the rifling of this Catal,3,1tia [ ? Catalonian], the Turks 
fell at variance, one vith another; and in such a manner 
that we divided ourselves [partcd combanyi : the lesser ship re- 
turned te Argier and out Exchagc took the opportunity of 
the wind, and plied out of the Straits ; vhich rejoiced JOHN 
RAXVLINS very much, as resolvmg on seine stratagem, when 
opportunity should serve. 
In the meanwhile, the Turks beKan te murmur, and would 
net willingly go into the Marr Granada, as the phrase is 
amongst them ; notwithstanding the Moors, being very super- 
stitious, were contented te be directed by their Hoshca, who, 
with us, signifieth a \Vitch [or ral, cr IVizardj: and is et 
great account and reputation amongst them, as net going in 
any great vessel te sea vithout one ; and observing vhatso- 
ever he concludeth, out of his divination. 
The ceremonies he useth are many ; and when they corne 
into the ocean, every second or third night, he maketh his 
conjuration. He beginneth, and endeth vith prayer, using 
many characters, and calling upon GOD by divers names. 
Yet, at this time, all that he did, consisteth in these par- 
ticulars. Upon the sight, and, as we were afraid, the chasing 
of two great ships, being supposed te be Spanish Men of War, 
a great silence is commanded in the ship; and vhen all is 
done, the company giveth as great a screech; the Captain 
still coming te JoHN lïAWLINS and sometimes making him te 
take in all his sails, and sometimes causing him te hoist them 
all out, as the \Vitch findeth by his book and presages. 
Then have they two arrows and a curtleaxe lying on a 
pillow, naked. The arrows are, one for the Turk's, and the 
other for the Christians. Then the \Vitch readeth, and the 
Captain or seine other, taketh the arrows in their hand by the 
heads, and if the arrow for the Christians cometh over the 



-. Iar. 1622. RAWLINS BEGINS TO l'LOT TIIE RECAPTURE. 595 
head of the arroxv for the Turks, then do they advance their 
sails, and will not endure the fight, whatsoever they see; 
but if the arroxv of the Turks is found, in the opening of the 
hand, upon the arrow of the Christians, they xvill then stay 
and encounter with any ship whatsoever. 
The curtleaxe fs taken up by some child that is innocent, 
• or rather, ignorant of the ceremony ; and so laid down again. 
Then they do observe whether the same side is uppermost, 
• vhich lay before : and so proceed accordingly. 
They also observe lunatics and changlings, and the Con- 
jurer writeth down their sayings in a book, grovelling on the 
.ground, as if he xvhispered to the Devil, to tell him the truth : 
and so expoundeth the Letter, as it were, by inspiration. 
Many other foolish rites they have, whereon they do dote 
as foolishly ; and xvhereof, I could entreat more at large, but 
this shall suflïce at this time. 
Whilst he xvas thus busied, and ruade demonstration that all 
xvas finished; the people in the ship gave a great shout, and 
-cried out " A sail! " " a sail ! " : xvhich, at last, was discovered 
to be another Man of War of Turks. For he made towards 
us, and sent his boat aboard us; to whom, our Captain 
complained that being becalmed by the Southern Cape [? of 
Portugal, i.c., Cac St. Vinccnt] ; and having "ruade" no voyage, 
the Turks denied to go any further northward; but the Cap- 
tain resolved not to return to Argier, except he could obtain 
some prize worthy his endurances ; but rather to go to Salle, 
and sell his Christians to victual his ship. Which the other 
Captain apprehended for his honour; and so persuaded the 
Turks to be obedient unto him : vhereupon folloved a pacifi- 
cation amongst us ; and so that Turk took his course for the 
Straits, and we put up northward, expecting the good hour 
of some beneficial booty. 
AI1 this while out slavery continued; and the Turks, with 
insulting tyranny, set us still on work in all base and servile 
.actions; adding stripes and inhuman revilings, even in out 
greatest labour. \Vhereupon JOHN RAWLINS resolved to ob- 
tain his liberty and surprise the ship, providing ropes xvith 
broad specks of iron, and all the iron croxvs, with which be 
knew a way, upon the consent of the rest, to ram up or tie 
fast their scuttles, gratings, and cabins ; yea, to shut up the 
Captain himself with ail his consorts: and so to handle the 



596 TE ¢OSE OF RAWLINS'S CROWBAR. E.li;.x6»_ 

xnatter, that, upon the watchword given, the English being- 
masters of the Gunner Room, ordnance and poxder, they 
vould either blox»" them into the air; or kill them, as they 
adventured to corne dovn, one by one, if they should, by any 
chance, open their cabins. 
But because he would proceed the better in his enterprise, 
as he had somewhat abruptly discovered himself to the nine 
English slaves, so he kept the same distance with the four- 
Hollanders that vere free men: till finding them coming 
somewhat towards them ; he acquainted vith them the vhole 
conspiracy ; and they affecting the plot, offered the adventure_ 
of their lives in the business. 
Then, very warily, he undermined the English Renegado. 
xvhich was the Gunner ; and three more, his associates : vho, 
at first, seemed to retract. 
Last of all, were brought in the Dutch Renegadoes, who. 
were also in the Gunner Room ; for always there lay twelve 
there, rive Christians, and seven English and Dutch Turks. 
So that, x'hen another motion had settled their resolutions 
and JOHN RAWLINS'S constancy had put new life, as it vere,. 
into the matter : the four Hollanders very honestly, according: 
to their promise, sounded the Dutch Renegadoes ; 'ho, vitll 
easy persuasion, gave their consent to so brave an enterprise. 
Whereupon JOHN RAWLINS, hot caring xvhether the Eng- 
lish Gunners would yield or hot, resolved, in the Captain's 
morning watch, to make the attempt. 
But, you must understand that where the English slaves lay 
lin the Gun Room_, there hung up al»-ays four or rive crows of 
iron ; being still under the carriages of the pieces. And, when- 
the time approached, being very dark: because JOHN RAWLINS. 
would have his crov of iron ready, as other things xvere, and 
other men prepared, in their several places ; in taking it out of- 
the carl:iage, by chance, it hit on the side of the piece, making 
such a noise, that the soldiers hearing it, awaked the Turks, 
and bade them corne down. \Vhereupon, the Boatswain of 
the Turks descended, with a candle, and presently searchecI 
all the slax-es' places, making much ado of the matter: but 
finding neither hatchet, nor hammer, nor anything else to 
move suspicion of the enterprise more than the crow of iron, 
x-hich lay slipped down under the carriages of the pieces; 
they went quietly up again, and certified the Captain, vhat 



-w..;.,622.'] HIs SUBSEQUENT F,2IG!IT IRO.I ,_ TURK. 597 

had chanced, who satisfied himself that it was a common 
thing to have a crow of iron slip from his place. 
I3ut by this occasion, ve ruade stay of our attempt; yet 
vere resolved to take another or a better opportunity. 
Only I must tell you, what JoH: R.xwLIXSwould have done, 
ifthis accident bad hOt happened. He was fully minded, with 
some others, with their naked knives in their hands, fo press 
upon the Gunner's breast and the other English Renegadoes, 
and either force them to consent to their designs, or to cut 
• -their throats ; first telling them plainly that "They had vowed 
to surprise the ship, and, by GOD's assistance, to obtain their 
liberty ; and therefore Die! or Consent (wien you hear the 
watchword given, For GOD .t and Kinx A..rES. t and St. 
GEORE for England / ) [that] you presently keep your places ! 
.and advise to execute what vou are commanded !" 
But as you have heard, OD vas the best physician to 
our wounded hearts ; and used a kind of preventing pbysic, 
rather than to cure us so suddenly. So that, out of His 
Providence, perceiving some danger in this enterprise, He 
both caused us to desist ; and, at last, brought our business 
to a better period, and fortunate end. 
For we sailed still more northvard, and RAVLINS had 
more rime fo ramper vith his Gunners, and the rest of the 
Inglish Renegadoes: who very willingly, when they con- 
idered the matter, and perpended the reasons, gave way unto 
"the project ; and with a kind of joy seemed to entertain the 
motives. Only they ruade a stop at [as fo] the first onset, who 
-should begin the enterprise, vhich vas no way fit for them 
to do; because they were no slaves, but Renegadoes, and 
• SO had always beneficial entertainment amongst them: but 
when it was once put in practice, they would be sure hot to 
Iail them ; but venture their lires for GOD and their country. 
When RAWLINS had heard them out, be much liked their 
.contradiction [rcservation'j ; and told them plainly, " He did 
require no such thing at their hands! but the slaves and 
himself vould first sound the channel, and adventure the 
nvater." And so, after reciprocal oathstaken, and hands given ; 
RAWLINS, once again, lay in vait for the fittest opportunity. 
But once again he vas disappointed; and a suspicious 
accident brought him to re-collect his spirits anew, and study 
on the danger of the enterprise : and thus it was. 



After the Renegado Gunner had protested secrecy, by ail 
that might induce a man to bestow some belief upon him 
he presently xvent up the scottle [scuttlc]; but stayed hot 
aloft a quarter of an hour. Nay, he came sooner down ; and 
in the Gunner Room sat by R.OEWLNS, who tarried for him,. 
where he left him. 
He was no sooner placed, and entered into some conference,. 
but there entered into the place, a furious Turk, with 
knife drawn, and presented it to R.«WLXS'S body : who verily 
supposed he intended to kill him; as suspicious that the 
Gunner had discovered something. \Vhereat R.«WLNS xva 
much moved; and so hastily asked, "What the mattel- 
meant ? or whether he xvould kill him or hot ? " observing his. 
countenance ; and (according to the nature of jealousy) con- 
ceiting that lais colour had a passage of change, whereby his. 
suspicious heart condemned him for a traitor; but that, at 
more leisure, he sware the contrary, and afterwards proved 
faithful and industrious in the ênterprise. And for the pre- 
sent, he answered R.«WLNS, in this manner, " No, Master ! 
be hot afraid ! I think, he doth but jest ! " 
\Vith that, JoHx R.«WLNS gave back a little, and drew- 
out lais knife; stepping also to the Gunner's sheath, and. 
taking out his, xvhereby he had two knives to one: which, 
xvhen the Turk perceived, be threw down his knife, saying, 
" He did but jest with him !" 
But, as I said, when the Gunner perceived, RAVLINS took 
it so ill, he whispered something in his car, that, at last, 
satisfied him: calling heaven to xvitness that " He never- 
spake a word of the enterprise, nor ever vould ! either to the 
prejudice of the business, or danger of his person." 
Notwithstanding, RAWLI»:S kept the knives in his sleeve,. 
all night, and was somewhat troubled ; for that he had made 
so many acquainted with an action of such importance : but, 
the next day, when he perceived the coast clear, and that 
there was no further cause for fear, he somewhat comforted 
himself; and grew bolder and bolder in disposing the affairs. 
of the ship. Only it grieved him that his enterprises were 
thus procrastinated: whereby the Mahomedan tyranny in- 
creased, and the poor slaves even groaned again undeï the 
burden of their bondage; and thought every day a year, till 
somethingxvas put in execution fortheir deliverance. For itwas 
now full rive weeks, since RAWLINS first projected the matter. 



.*a,;.,6_2.] ITS IASTER IS INFORMED OF TIIE PLOT. 599 

All this while, IAWLINS drcw the Captain tolie for the 
Northern Cape [ ? Cape Filzistcrl'e], assuring bim, tb_at thereby 
he should not miss purcbase ; which accordingly fell out, as a 
wish would bave it: but his drift was, in truth, to dl'av him from 
any supply or second [reizforcemelzt] of Turks, if GOD sbould 
give vay to their enterprise, or success to the victory. 
Yet, for the present, the 6th of February, being twelve 
leagues from tbe Cape, we descried a sail ; and presently, took 
tbe advantae of the wind in chasing her, and at last fetched 
her up, making her strike all her sails: wbereby we knew 
her to be a bark belonging to Torbay, near Dartmouth, that 
came from Averal'e, laden with salt. 
Ere ve had fully despatcbed, it chanced to be foul weather ; 
so that ve could not, or at least would hot make out our 
boat ; but caused tbe Master of the bark to let down his, and 
corne aboard with lais company ; there being in the bark but 
nine men, and one boy. 
And so the Master, leaving" lais Mate with two men in the 
same, came himself, vith rive men and the boy unto us ; 
whereupon our Turkish Captain sent ten Turks to man her: 
amongst wbom, were tvo Dutch and one English Renegado, 
who were of our confederacy, and acquainted with us. 
But vhen RAWLIS saw tbis partition of lais friends, before 
they could hoist out tleir boat for the bark ; be ruade means 
to speak with tbem, and told them plainly that " He would 
prosecute tbe matter, eitber that night, or the next: and 
therefore, vhatsoever came of it, they should acquaint the 
English with lais resolution, and make towards Enland; 
bearing up the helm, whiles the Turks slept and suspected 
no such matter. For, by GOD's grace, in his first watch, 
about midnight, he would shev them a light; by which 
they might understand that tbe enterprise was begun, or, at 
least, in a good forwardness for tbe execution." 
So the boat vas let down, and they came to the bark cri 
Torbay ; vhere the Master's Mate being left, as before you 
bave heard, apprehended quickly the matter, and heard the 
discourse with amazement. 
But time was precious, and not to be spent in disputing or 
casting of doubts, whether the Turks that were with them 
were able to master them or not ; being seven to six : con- 
sidering they had the helm of the ship, and the Turks being 



600 I.A\\LINS PERSUADES TtiE CAPTA.IN TO KEEP [ ? Ma:r. 1621. 

soldiers, and ignorant of sea aft%irs, could not discover 
whether they went to Argier or not; or, if they did, they 
resolved, by RaWLIS'S example, to cut their throats, or cast 
them overboard. And so I leave them to make use of the 
Renegadoes' instructions : and leturn to RAWLIUS again. 
The Master of the bark of Torbay and lais company were 
quickly searched, and as quickly pillaged, and dismissed to 
the liberty of the ship; whereby RawLIS had leisure to 
entertain him with the lamentable lleWs of their extremities, 
and the adventure oftheir voyages : whereby ho understood of 
lais first setting out from the \Vest country, of lais taking and 
surprising at sea by VILLA RISE ; o[ his twice being sold as a 
slave, and so continuing to lais heart-burning and excruciation ; 
f the making [of] the Exchangc of Bristol, a Man of \Var, 
which they were now in; of the Captain and Master, who 
were botla English Renegadoes ; of the cruelty of the Turks 
in general, and his own fortunes in particular; of his 
admission into the ship as a Pilot ; of the friendship which 
passed between him and the Hollanders ; of the imparting of 
the secret ofsurprising the ship, both to the slaves andChristian 
Renegadoes ; of their consent and courageous apprehension 
of the matter ; of the first attempt, and their twice disappoint- 
ing; of lais still resolution presently at oncc] to put it in 
practice ; of his last acquainting [of] the Dutch Renegadoes 
who went aboard his bark ; and in a word, ofevery particular 
which was befitting to the purpose. 
" Yea," ho told him, that " that night, ho should lose the 
the sight of them, for they would make the helm for Eng- 
land ; " and that ho " would, that night, and evermore, pray 
for their good success and safe deliverance." 
\Vhen the Master of the I3ark of Torbay had heard him 
out, and that lais company were partakers of lais story; 
thev all became silent :not either diffident of his discourse 
Or îfraid of the attempt ; but as wondering at the goodness 
of GOD, and His mercy in choosing out such weak instru- 
ments to set forth His glory. 
"True," quoth Rawlins, when ho found them coming 
towards him, " it is so ! For mark but the circumstance of 
the matter[ and 3"ou shall see the 'ery finger of GOD to 
point us out our deliverance ! \Vhen we came into tb_e main 
ocean to hunt after prizes, according to the nature of pirat'.s, 



. Mar. x62. THE TURKISII SOLDIERS AFT OF TIIE SIIIP. 6oi 

and that I resolved on the enterprise, there vere sixty-five 
Turks in out ship, and only seventeen of our confederacy. 
Ïhen it pleased GOD to abate us ten of the Turks, who were 
sent xvith the Polacca belote recited. And when we were 
disappointed again of our purposes ; you see now what hath 
chanced ! We are rid of more Turks, and welcome you, as a 
new supply! so that, if 3"ou please, we shall be twenty-four 
strong; and they, in all, are but forty-five. Be therefore 
courageous! and let us join heart, hand, and foot together 
that xve may execute this brave attempt for GOD's glory, 
our country's honour, the good cxample to others, out own 
deliverance, and (if we may hot be counted vainglorious) out 
everlasting memory." 
By that time he had finished this discourse also, the Master 
of the Bark and his company resolved to assist him : as pro- 
jecting [forsecing] the miserv and wretchedness they should 
endure by being slaves to the Turks, and the happiness of 
their liberty besides the reputation of the enterprise. As for 
death, it was in community to all men : and so in the hands 
f GOD to dispose, at His pleasure; and either could not 
happen before the hour of limitation, or could not be pre- 
vented. For human policy must submit to Divine Providence. 
Yet to shew himself an understanding man, he demanded 
of RAWLINS, " What xveapons he had ? and in vhat manner 
he would execute the business ?" 
To which, he ansxvered, that " He had ropes and iron 
hooks, to make fast the scottels, gratings, and cabins. He 
had also in the Gunner Room two curtleaxes, and the slaves had 
rive crows of iron before them. Besides, in the scuffling, they 
rnade no question [oftaking] of some of the soldiers' weapons." 
Then for the manner, he told them, " They were sure of 
the ordnance, the Gunner Room, and the powder: and so 
blocking them up, would either ldll them, as they came 
down; or turn the ordnance against their cabins, or blow 
them into the air by one stratagem or other." Thus were 
they contented, on all sides ; and resolved to the enterprise. 
Ïhe next morning, being the 7th of February, the prize of 
Torbay was not to be seen or found ; xvhereat the Captain 
began to storm and svear, comlnanding IAWLINS to search 
the seas up and down for her : who bestowed all that day in 
that business, but to little purpose; whereupon, when the 



60: JastES ROE ClVES TIIE SIGNAL. 

humour was spent,the Captain pacified himself, as conceiting 
he should be sure to find her at Argier. But, by the per- 
mission of the Ruler of all actions, that Argier wasEngland [ 
and ail his wickedness frustrated. 
For RAWLINS beingnowstartled, lest he shou]d return in this 
humour, for the Straits; the 8th of Februaryvent dovn into the 
hold, and finding a great deal of vater below ; told the Captain 
of the saine : adding that " It did hot come to the pump ! " 
which he did very politicly, that he might remove the ordnance. 
For vhen the Captain asked him the reason, he told him,. 
" the ship was too far after the head." 
Then, he commanded to use the best means he could, tc 
bring her in order. 
" Sure, then," quoth RAWLNS, We must quit our cables; and 
bring tour pieces of ordnance after abaft] ; and that would bring 
the water to the pump." \Vhich was presently put in practice.. 
So the pieces being usually ruade fast thwart the ship, we 
brought two of them, with their mouths right before the 
biticle [binnacle]. And because the Renegado Flemings 
would not begin [i.e., the fight ; it was thus concluded. 
That the ship having three decks; ve that did belong to 
the Gunner Room should be all there, and break up the 
lower deck. The English slaves, who always lay in the 
middle deck should do the like, and watch the scuttles. 
RAWLINS ifimself prevailed with the Gunner, for so much 
powder as should prime the pieces : and so told them all, there 
was no better watchword, nor means to begin, than, upon 
the report of the piece, to make a cry and screech [shout], "Fol  
GOD, and King JA.ES ! " and " St. GEORGE for England ! " 
\Vhen ail things were prepared, and every man resolved,. 
as knowing what he had to do; and the hour when it should 
happen, to be two in the afternoon : IAXVLINS advised the 
Master Gunner to speak to the Captain, that the soldiers 
might attend on the poop, which would bring the ship afte- 
[more af t]. To which the Captain was very willing; and 
upon the Gunner's information, the soldiers gat themselves 
to the Poop to the number of twenty; and rive or six went 
into the Captain's cabin, where always lay divers curtleaxes 
and some targets [shields]. 
And so we fell towork to pump thewater; and carried the 
marrer fairly till the next day, which was spent as the former ; 



 x6__. DESPERATE FIGIITING, WITIIOUT QUARTER. 603: 
? llar. 

being the 9th of FebrumT, and, as GOD must have the, 
praise ! the triumph of our victory. 
For by that time, ail things were prepared, and the- 
soldiers got upon the Poop as the dav before. To avoid sus- 
picion, ail that did belonff to the Gunner Room went down; 
and the slaves in the middle deck, attended Lto] their business. 
So that we may cast up our account in this manner. 
First, nine English slaves, besides Jorttq RAWLItqS ; rive 
ofthe Torbay men and one boy ; four English Renegadoes 
and two Dutch; four Hollanders: in all, four and 
twenty and a boy. 
So that lifting up our hearts and hands to GOD, for the 
success of the business; we were wonderfully encouraged, 
and settled ourselves till the report of the piece gave us 
warning of the enterprise. 
Now, you must consider that, in this company, xvere two 
of RAWLINS'S men, JAMES ROE and JOHN DAVlES, whom he 
brought out of England ; and whom the fortune of the sea 
brought into the saine predicanaent with their Master. 
These were employed about noon, being, as I said, the 9th 
of February, to prepare their matches; while all the Turks, 
or at least most of them, stood on the Poop, to weigh down 
the ship as it were, to bring the water forward to the pump, 
the one brought his match lighted between two spoons, the: 
other brought lais, in a little piece of a can. And so, in the- 
naine of GOD! the Turks and Moors being placed as you 
have heard, and rive and forty in number; and RAWLINS 
having proined the touchholes : JA,xtES ROE gave tire to one- 
of the pieces, about two o'clock in the afternoon; and the- 
confederates, upon the warning, shouted most cheerfully. 
The report of the piece did tear and break down ail the 
biticle and compasses ; and the noise of the slaves ruade ail 
the soldiers amazed at the matter : till seeing the quarter of 
the ship rent and feeling the whole body to shake under them ; 
understanding the ship was surprised, and the attempt tended 
to their utter destruction, never bear robbed of her whelps 
was so fell and mad! 
For they not onlv called us "Dogs!" and cried out "Usance 
de la mat," which s as much as to say, " The fortune of the 
wars ! " but attempted to tear up the planks, setting a work 
hammers, hatchets, knives, the oars of the boat, boat-hook» 



? 
0 4 A GLORIOUS VICTORV, WITIIOUT LOSS. E ? 

their curtleaxes, and what else came to hand ; besides stones 
.and bricks in the Cook Room : all which they threw amongst 
as; attempting still and still, to break and rip up the hatches 
.and boards of the steering, hot desisting ri'oto their former 
,execrations, and horrid blasphemies and revilings. 
\Vhen JoHN RAWLINS perceived them so violent, and 
understood how the slaves had cleared the decks of ail the 
Turks and Moors beneath ; he set a guard upon the powder, 
and charged their own muskets against them : killing them 
from divers scout holes, both before and behind ; and so 
lessened their number, to the joy of all oui" hearts. 
\Vhereupon they cried out, and caIIed for the Pilot: and 
.o RAWLINS, with some to guard him, went to them ; and 
understood them, by their kneeling, that they cried for mercy 
and to have their lires saved; and they would corne down ; 
which he bade them do. And so they were taken one by o.ne, 
and bound; yea, killed with their own curtleaxes. \Vhich, 
when the rest perceived, they called us, "English dogs!" 
and reviled us with many opprobrious terres ; some leaping 
.overboard, saying, " It was the chance of war ! " Some vere 
manacled, and so thrown overboard : and some were slain 
and mangled with the curtleaxes; till the ship was well 
cleared, and ourselves assured of the victory. 
At the first report of our piece, and the hurly burly in the 
decks; the Captain was writing in his cabin : and hearing 
the noise, thought it some strange accident; and so, came 
out with lais curtleaxe in his hand, presuming by lais authority 
to pacify the mischief. 
But when he cast his eyes upon us, and saw that we were 
like to surprise the ship ; he threw down his curtleaxe, and 
begged to save lais lire : intimating to RaWLIXS, "how he had 
redeemed him ff'oto VILLa RISE; and ever since admitted 
]fim to place of command in the ship; besides honest usage 
in the whole course of the voyage." 
All which RWLINS confessed; and at last, condescended 
[agrccd to mercy : and brought the Captain and rive more into 
/2ngland. 
The Captain was called RA.ITH.i RISE; but his Christian 
aaame, HENRY CHANILER: and, as they say, a chandler's 
:son in Southwark. JoHx GOOIaLE was also an English 
"rurk. RICH.«IV CL.am¢, in Turkish, JavaR; GoR CooI¢, 



 ,:r.,__. TriE Tomt  .ap,¢ GETS TO lPEXZAXCE. 605 
RA,EDA,; JoHn BOWSE, iI.«.ME; WLLA. W'I, 
Mt:S'AœeHA: besides all the slaves and Hollanders; with 
other Renegadoes, who were willing to be reconciled to their 
true Saviour, as being formerly seduced with the hopes of 
riches, honour preferment, and such like devilish baits to 
catch the souls of mortal men and entangle fl'ailty in the 
tarriers of horrible abuses and imposturing deceit. 
When ail was done, and the ship cleared of the dead 
bodies; JOHN R.,WLINS assembled his men together, and 
with one consent gave the praise to GOD: using the ac- 
customed Service on ship board : and, for vant of books, 
liffed up their voices to GOD, as He put into their hearts 
renewed their memories. Then, did they sing a Psalm ; and, 
last of ail, embraced one another, for playing the men in such 
a deliverance, whereby our fear vas turned into joy, and 
trembling hearts exhilarated; that we had escaped such in- 
evitable dangers, and especially the slavery and terror of 
bondage, worse than death itself ! 
The saine night, we washed out ship, put everything in as 
good order as ve could, repaired the broken quarter, set up 
the biticle, and bore up the helm for England: vhere, by 
GOD's grace and good guiding, we arrived at Plymouth, the 
I3th of February tI622; and were velcomed like the 
recovery of the lost sheep, or as you read of a loving mother 
that runneth, vith embraces to entertain her son from a long 
voyage and escape of many dangers. 
Not long affer, we understood of our confederates that 
returned home in the bark of Torbay, that they arrived in 
Penzance in Cormvall, the Ilth of February. 
And if any ask after their deliverance, considering there- 
were ten Turks sent to man her, I will tell you that too. 
The next day after they lost us [ i.e., 7tl , as you have 
heard, the three Renegadoes had acquainted the Master's 
Mate and the tvo English in her, »vith IAWLINS' determina- 
tion; and that they themselves would be true to them, and 
assist them in any enterprise : then, if the worst came, there 
were but seven to six. 
But, as it fell out, they had a more easy passage than 
turmoil and manslaughter. For they ruade the Turks believe 
the wind xvas corne fair, and that thev were sailing to Argier, 
.till they came within sight of England : which one of them 



606 TIIE I Or,tL OF TIIE S TORY. E.lXta'r.,6,,. 

.amongst the test discovered, saying plainly, " that land was 
hot like Cape St. Vincent [" 
" Yes ! " saith he that was at the helm, " and [if]_ 3"ou will 
,be contented, and go down into the hold ; and tUlll the sait 
• over to windward, whereby the ship may bear full sali : 3-ou 
-shall know and see more to-morrow ! " 
\Vhereupon rive of them went down very orderly, the 
Renegadoes feigning themselves asleep ; who presently start 
up, and with the help of the two English, nailed down the 
hatches. \Vhereat the principal amongst them much re- 
pined; and began to grow into choler and rage, had it hot 
quickly been overpassed. For one stepped to him, and dashed 
out his brains ; and threw him overboard. 
The test were brought to Exeter: either to be arraigned 
according to the punishment of delinquents in that kind, or 
• disposed of as the King and Council shall think meet. 
And this is the story of this Deliverance, and end of JonN 
RAWLINS'S voyage. 
Now, gentle Reader! I hope you will not call in question 
the power and goodness of GOD, who, from rime to rime, 
-extendeth His mercy to the miraculous preservation of His 
servants ; llOr make any doubt that He hath still the saine 
.arm and vigour as He had in rimes past, when GIDEOI's three 
hundred men overcame the Midianites: and many ancient 
stratagems are recorded to bave had a passage of success, 
• even within out memories, to execute as great a wonder as 
this. Nor do I think you will be startled at anything in the 
discourse touching the cruelty and inhumanity of Turks and 
Moors themselves : who, from a native barbarousness, do hate 
all Christians and Christianity; especially if thev grow into 
the violent rages of piracy, or fall into that exorlitant course 
of selling of slaves, or enforcing of men to be Mahomedans. 
Nor can I imagine, you will call in question out natural 
desire of liberty, and saving of out lires, when you see, from 
instinct of nature, all the creatures of the world corne to the 
law of preservation : and our Saviour Himself, alloweth the fly- 
ing, out ofone city into another, in the time of persecution ; and 
PAUL, by saying " He was a Roman ! " procured his delivery. 
\Vell, then, it is only the truth of the story that you are 
anaazed at: making doubt whether your belief of the saine 
raay be bestowed to your own credit ! I can say no more. 



Ia.z6__.J F I N A L A D M O N I T I O N S. 

607 

The actors in tbis comic tragedy are most of them alive. 
Tbe Tulls are in prison! tbe ship is to be seen! and 
RaWLINS bimself dare justify the matter! For he hath pre- 
sented it to the Marquis! a man not to be dallied withal in 
these things ; nor any way to be ruade partaker of deceit. 
Nay, I protest I tbink he durst not, fol" lais ears ! publish 
(concerning tbe substance)such a discourse to open over- 
loo.ln,, if it vere not true ! As for illustration, or cementing 
the broken pieces of well-tempered mortar, blame bim not in 
that ! For precious stones are vorn enamelled and wrought 
in gold ; which otberwise would still be of value and estima- 
tion; but published and receiving the addition of art and 
cunning, who doth not account [them] the better, and 
esteemeth himself the ruler for their possession. 
So, then, entertain it fol" a true and certain discourse! 
Apply it! make use of it! and put it to thy !aeart for thy 
comfort! It teacheth tbe acknowledgment of a pmverful, 
provident, and merciful GOD, ,«bo will be known in His 
nvonders, and make weak tbings the instruments or His glory ! 
It instructeth us in the practice of thanksgiving vhen a 
a benefit is bestowed, a mercy shown, and a deliverance 
perfected. It maketh us strong and courageous in adversity, 
tike cordial restoratives to a sick heart; and our patience 
shall stand like a rock, against the impetuous assaults of 
affliction. It is a glorious sun to dissipate the clouds of 
desperation ; and cheer us thus far that GOD can restore us, 
when ve are under the pressure of discomfort and tribulation : 
for preferment cornes neither from the East, nor the \Vest ; 
but from Him that holdeth ihe winds in His hands, and puts 
a hook in tbe nostrils of Leviathan. 
So that if He do not give vay to ur contentment, if is be- 
cause He will supply us vith better graces, or keep us flom 
tbe adder's hole of Temptation, whereat, if we tarry, we shall 
be sure to be stung unto death. 
In a word, it is a Mirror to look Virtue in the face ! and 
teach men the way to industry and noble performances ; that 
a brave spirit and honest man sball sa5" , with NEHEI,H, 
"Shallsucha man as I.tfly? Shall I fear death or some 
petty trial ; xvhen GOD is to be honoured ! my country to be 
terved! my King to be obeyed! Religion to be defended! 
the Commonwealth supported ! honour and renown obtained ! 
and, in the end, the crown of immortality purchased ? " 



6oS [: ,2 

HE names of those [four] English Renegadoes as con- 
I sented, and joined with the Slaves, in the recovery 
J of the Ship, were these : 
RICHARD CLARKE, the Gunner; called in Turkish, 
JAFAR. 
GEOR COOPTE, Gunner's Mate; called in Turkish, 
lïAMEDAM. 
WILLIA.I WINTER, Carpenter; in Turkish, iXIUS- 
TAPHA. 
JOHN BROWNE, in Turkish, IXIE.IME. 

One Dutch Renegado. 
Four Dutch Slaves. 
One French Slave. 
Five Englishmen and a boy, taken but three days before. 
Nine English Sla'¢es, which they took vith them ïrom 
Argier. 
In all twenty-four men and a boy: which were all safely 
landed at Plymouth, the I3th of February, 1621 [i.e., 1622]. 
Thy saved alive, of the forty-five Turks and Moors, the 
Captain, one HENRY CHANDLER (born in Southwark), an 
English Renegado: and rive Turks more, who are at this 
prescnt in Plymouth Gaol, &c. 



609 

Lyrics, tElegies, ffc. from 
Cazonets, ff c. 

Madrigals, 

j o H N D o w L A N D, Bachelor of Music, &c., and 
Lutenist to CHR I STIAN IV., King of Denmark. 

THE THIRD AND LA,ST BOOK OF 
:3 o r qS OR 

x6o 3. 

To Mv HONOURABLE GOOD FRIEND 
j o H N S O U C H, Esquire: 
for many courtesies, for which I embolden myself; 
presuming of his good favour, to present 
this simple work, as a token of my 
thankfulness. 

HE estimation and khzdness, which I have ever 
bountifully received from your favour, have 
moved me to resent this novelty of Music to 
you : who, of all others, are fittest to judge of 
it, and worthiest out of your love, fo #rotect it. 
If I gave lire to these, you gave s#irit to me ! 
for it is always the worthy respect of others, 
that makes Art #roslker in itself. That I may therefore #ossess, 
and make manifest to the world, yottr singular affeclion fo me ; and 
my grateful mind, in my weak ability, fo you : I bave here #re- 
,v. c,x. Iv. 39 



610 THE EPISTLE TO THE READER [J. Dow,a.d. 
• ? Feb. x6o 3. 

fixed your honorable naine, as a bulwctrk of safety and a title of 
grace ; thinking myself no way able fo deserve yor favours more, 
than by further engctging myself fo you, for this your oble pre- 
sumed îatronage. "He thctt bath acknowledged a favour," thcy say, 
"hctth half repaid it !" ; ctnd if s2¢ch payment mcty pass for current, I 
shall be ever rectdy fo grow the one half out of your debt : though 
how that should be, I know hot .t since I owe myself, and more (if 
it were #ossible) .unto you. 
A ccelbt me wholly lhen, I beseech you, in whctt termsyou lblease ! 
being ever, in my ,ttermost service, 

Devoted to your Honour's kindness, 

yOHN DOWLAND. 

The Epistle to the Reader. 

HE applause of them that judge, is the encourage- 
ment of those that write. My first two Books of 
Airs sped so well, that they bave produced a third, 
which they bave fetched far from home, and 
brought even through the most perilous seas: where having 
escaped so many sharp rocks; I hope they shall not be 
wracked on land, by curious and biting censures. As in a 
hive of bees, ail labour alike to lay up honey ; opposing them- 
selves against none but fruitless drones : so in the House of 
Learning and Fame, ail good endeavours should strive to 
add somewhat that is good, hot malicing one another; but 
altogether banding against the idle and malicious ignorant. 
My labours, for my part, I freely off.er to every man's 
judgement! presuming, that favour once attained, is more 
easily increased than lost. 
JOHN DOWLAND. 



6ii 

Canzonet G 8c. 

THE THIRD AND LA,ST BOOK OF' 
,Soq OR /R. 

AREWELL, too fait ! too chaste ! but too too 
cruel ! 
Discretion never quenchèà tire wîth swords ! 
V¢hy hast thou made my heart, thine 
anger's fuel ; 
And now would kill my Pwssions with thy 
words ? 
This is Proud Beauty's true anatomy. 
I¢ that secure, severe in secrecy, Carewell. 

Farewell too dear ! and too too much desired 
Unless compassion dwelt more near thy heart. 
Love by neglect (though constant) oft is tired 
And forc'd from bliss, unwillingly to part. 
This is Proud Beauty's true anatomy. 
If that secure, severe in secrecy, farewell. 

_IME stands still, with gazing on her face ! 
Stand still, and gaze ! for minutes, hours, and years, 
to her give place. 
Ail other things shall change ! but She remains the 
saine, 
Till heavens changèd bave their course, and TIME hath Iost 
his name. 



612 LYRICS, ELEGIES 8¢C. FROM [Ed. by].Dowlad. 
, Feb. 6 3. 

CUPID doth hover up and down, blinded with her fair eyes ! 
And FORTUNE captive at her feet, contemned and conquered 
lies ! 

When FORTUNE, LovE, and TIME attend on 
Her with my fortunes, love, and time, I honour will alone, 
If bloodless ENVy say, "Duty hath no desert ! " 
DUTi' replies, that " ENVr¢ knows, herself, his faithful heart !" 
My settled vows and spotless faith, no fortune can remove ! 
Courage shall shew my inward faith ! and faith shall try my 
love ! 

EHOLD a wonder here! 
Love hath received his sight ! 
Which, many hundred years, 
Hath hOt beheld the light. 

Such beams infusèd be, 
By CYNTHIA in his eyes ; 
As first have made him see, 
And then have ruade him wise. 

Love now no more will weep 
For them, that laugh the while ! 
Nor wake for them that sleep ! 
Nor sigh for them that smile ! 

So powerful is the Beauty, 
That Love doth now behold ; 
As Love is turned to Duty, 
That's neither blind, nor bold. 

This Beauty shews her might» 
To be of double kind; 
In giving Love his sight, 
And striking FOLLY blind. 



Ed. byJ. Dowland.-] MADRIGALS, CANZONETS, ¢C. 613 
Feb. 6o3./ 

] ï]APHNE was not so chaste, as she was changing, 
 j.][ Soon begun, Love with Hate estranging. 
t'' He that to-day triumphs, with favours graced ; 
Falls before night, with scorns defaced. 
Yet is thy beauty feigned ! and every one desires 
Still, the false light of thy trait'tous rires ! 

Beauty can want no grace by true love viewed, 
Fancy by looks is still renewed ; 
Like to a fruitful tree it ever groweth, 
Or the fresh spring that endless floweth. 
But if that Beauty were of one consent with Love ; 
Love should live free, and true pleasure prove ! 

E! ME! and none but me! Dart home! 0 gentle 
1[ / MI Death ! 
[l And quickly [ for I draw too long this idle breath. 
O how long till I may fly to heaven above, 
Unto my faithful and beloved turtle dove [ 

Like to the silver swan before my death I sing ! 
And yet alive, my fatal knell I help to ring ! 
Still I desire from earth, and earthly joys to fly ! 
He never happy lived, that cannot love to die ! 

AY, LOVE ! if ever thou didst find 
woman with a constant mind ? " 
"None but one !" 
And what should that rare mirror be ? 
Some goddess or some Queen is she ?" 
She ! She! She ! and only She ! 
She, only Queen of Love and Beauty! 

" But could thy fiery poisoned dart, 
At no time, touch her spotless heart, 
lqor come near ?" 



614 

fEd. by J. DowIand. 
LYRICS, ELEGIES, C. FROM  Feb. x6o3. 

"She is not subject to LovE's bow. 
Her eye commands, her heart saith ' No !'" 
No! no! no! andonlyNo! 
One No ! another still doth folIow. 

" How might I that fair wonder know, 
That mocks Desire with endless ' No ! ' ? " 
"See the Moon ! 
That ever in one change doth grow ; 
Yet still the saine ! and She is so !" 
So! so! so! andonlyso! 
From heaven, her virtues she doth borrow. 

" To her, then, yield thy shafts and bow! 
That can command affections so! " 
" Love is free, 
So are ber thoughts that vanquish thee ! " 
There is no Queen of Love but She!" 
She ! She ! She! and only She! 
She, only Queen of Love and Beauty! 

Low not so fast, ye fountains ! 
[ What needeth all this haste ? 
 Svell not above your mountains, 
Nor spend your rime in waste ! 
Gentle springs ! freshly your salt tears 
Must still rail, dropping from their spheres. 

Weep not apace, whom Reason 
Or lingering Time can ease ! 
My sorrow can no season, 
lqor ought besides appease. 
Gentle springs ! freshly your sait tears 
Must still fall, dropping from their spheres. 



Ed. by J. Dowland.-] 
Fcb.,6o3.J MADRIGALS, CANZONETS, C. 615 
Time can abate the terror 
Of every common pain : 
But common grief is error, 
True grief will still remain. 
Gentle springs ! freshly your sait tears 
Must still rail, dropping from their spheres. 

HAT if I never speed! 
Shall I straight yield to despair ? 
And still, on sorrow feed, 
That can no loss repair ? 
Or shall I change my love; 
For I find power to depart ; 
And, in my reason, prove 
I can command my heart ! 
But if she will pity my Desire, and my Love requite ; 
Then ever shall she lire my dear delight ! 
Corne ! corne ! corne ! while I have a heart to desire thee ! 
Corne! corne! corne! for either I will love, or admire thee ! 

Oft have I dreamed of joy, 
Yet never felt the sweet ; 
But, tired with annoy, 
My griefs each other greet ! 
Oft have I left my hope, 
As a wretch by fate forlorn ; 
But Love aires at one scope, 
And lost will still return. 
He that once loves with a true desire, never can depart ! 
For CtJplD is the King of every heart. 
Corne ! corne ! corne ! while I have a heart to desire thee ! 
Corne! corne! corne ! for either I will love, or admire thee ! 



I-Ed. by J. Dowland. 
66 LYRICS, ELEGIES, C. FROM L Feb. x6o3. 
OvE stood amazed, af sweet Beauty's pain ; 
Love would have said, that "all was but vain, 
and gods but half divine ! " 
But when Love saw that Beauty would die, 
He, ail aghast, to heavens did cry, 
" 0 gods, what wrong is mine ! " 
Then his tears, bred in thoughts of salt brine, 
Fell from his eyes, like rain in sunshine, 
expelled by rage of tire. 
Yet, in such wise as anguish affords, 
He did express in these his last words, 
His infinite desire. 

"' Are you fled, Fair ! where are now those eyes ? 
Eyes but too fair, envièd by the skies ? 
You angry gods do know ! 
With guiltless blood, your sceptres you stain ! 
On poor true hearts, like tyrants you reign ! 
Unjust ! why do you so ? " 
"Are you false gods ! why then do you reign ? 
Are you just gods ! why then have you slain 
the life of love on earth ? 
Beauty ! now, thy face lires in the skies ! 
Beauty! now, let me live in thine eyes, 
where bliss felt never death ! " 

Then from high rock, the rock of despair, 
He falls ! in hope to smother in the air, 
Or else on stones to burst 
Or on cold waves, to spend his last breath 
Or his strange lire, to end by strange death. 
But Fate forbad the worst 

With pity moved ; the gods then changèd Love 
To PHOENIX'S shape, yet cannot remove 
his wonted property. 



Ed'byJ'D°land'-I  ADRIGALS,Feb.,»_] CANZONETS, çC. 6i 7 

He loves the sun, because it is fair! 
leep he neglects, he lives but by air! 
and would, but cannot die 

END your ears to my sorrow, 
Good people, that have any pity ! 
For no eyes will I borrow, 
Mine own shall grace my doleful ditty ! 
Chant then, my voice, though rude like, to my rhyming ! 
And tell forth my grief, which here, 
In sad despair, can find no ease of tormenting! 

Once, I lived ! Once, I knew delight ! 
No grief did shadow, then, my pleasure ! 
Graced with love, cheered xvith beauty's sight ; 
I joyed alone true heavenly treasure ! 
0 what a heaven is love firmly embraced ! 
Such power aione can fix delight, 
In Fortune's bosom ever placed. 

Cold as ice frozen, is that heart 
Where thought of love could no time enter! 
Such, of life reap the poorest part, 
Whose xveight cleaves to this earthly centre 
Mutual joys in hearts, truly united, 
Do earth to heavenly state convert ; 
Like heaven still, in itself delighted ! 

Y A fountain where I lay, 
(AIl blessed be that blessèd day I) 
By the glim'ring of the sun, 
(0 never be her shining done !) 
\Vhen I might see alone 
My true love fairest one! 
Love's dear light ! 
Love's clear sight ! 



618 

LYRICS, ELEGIES, ¢C. FROM[ Ed'byJ'D°wland'Feb. x6o3 
No world's eyes can clearer see! 
A fairer sight, none can be! 
Fair with garlands all addrest, 
{Was never Nymph more fairly blest !) 
131essed in the highest degree ; 
(So may She ever blessed be !) 
Came to this fountain near, 
With such a smiling cheer ! 
Such a face ! 
Such a grace ! 
Happy ! happy eyes ! that see 
Such a heavenly sight as She! 
Then I forthwith took my pipe, 
V¢hich I, ail fair and clean did wipe, 
And upon a heavenly ground, 
AI1 in the grace of beauty round, 
Played this Roundelay, 
" V¢elcome, fair Queen of May ! 
Sing, sweet air! 
Welcome Fair! 
We.lcome be the Shepherds' Queen ! 
The glory of all our green ! " 
[! VHAT hath overwrought 
My ail amazed thought ? 
Or whereto ara I brought ? 
That thus in vain have sought, 
Till time and truth have taught 
I labour all for nought. 
The day, I see is clear ; 
13ut I ara ne'er the near! 
For grief doth still appear, 
To cross our merry cheer : 
Vhile I can nothing here, 
13ut Winter all the year. 



Ed'byJ'D°wland'-IMADP, IGALSFcb. x6o3.J , CANZONETS, &c. 619 

Cold, hold ! the sun will shine warm ! 
Therefore now fear no harm ! 
0 blessed beams ! where beauty streams ; 
Happy, happy light, to love's dreams ! 

[AREWELL, Unkind! Farewell! to me, no more a 
[ Since my heart holds my Love most dear ; !father! 
] The wealth, vhich thou dost reap ! another s hand 
must gather. 
Though thy heart still lies buried there ! 
Then farewell ! O farewell ! Welcome, my Love ! welcome, 
my Joy for ever! 
'Tis not the vain desire of human fleeting beauty 
Makes my mind to live, though my means do die. 
Nor do I Nature wrong, though I forget my dutv ; 
Love, hot in the blood, but in the spirit doth lie ! [my J oy for ever ! 
Then farewell ! O farewell ! Welcome, my Love ! welcome, 

IEEP you no more, sad fountains! 
What need you flow so fast ? 
Look how the snowy mountains, 
Heaven's sun doth gently waste ! 
But my sun's heavenly eyes 
View not your weeping, 
That now lie sleeping 
Softly ! now softly lies sleeping ! 
Sleèp is a reconciling ! 
A rest that peace begets ! 
Doth not the sun rise smiling, 
When fair at e'en he sets? 
Rest you ! then, rest, sad eyes ! 
Melt not in weeping, 
While she lies sleeping 
Softly! now softly lies sleeping ! 



62O 

L 
Y R I C S, E L E G I E S, & C F R O  v LEd- 
by 
j. 
Dow|and. 
• Fcb. 6o 3. 

[]IE on this feigning ! 
il Is Love without Desire ? 
[.. ] Heat still remaining, 
And yet no spark of tire ? 
Thou art untrue, nor wert with Fancy moved ! 
For Desire hath power on ail that ever loved ! 

Show some relenting ! 
Or grant thou dost not love ! 
Two hearts consenting, 
Shall they no comforts prove ? 
Yield ! or confess that Love is without PIeasure ; 
And that women's bounties rob men of their treasure ! 

Truth is hOt placed 
In words and forcèd smiles ! 
Love is hot graced 
With that which still beguiles ! 
Love, or dislike ! Yield tire, or give no fuel ! 
So mayest thou prove kind ; or, at the least, less cruel! 

...T w,s a time when silly bees could speak. 
And in that rime, I was a silly bee , 
Who fed on rime [thyme] until my heart gan break, 
Yet never round the time would favour me. 
Of all the swarm, I only did hot thrive ! 
Yet brought I wax and honey to the hive. 

Then thus I buzzed, when time no sap would give, 
" Why should this blessed time to me be dry ; 
Since by this time the lazy drone doth lire, 
The wasp, the worm, the gnat, the butterfly ? " 
Mated with grief, I kneeled on my knees ; 
And thus complained unto the King of Bees. 



Ed. by J. Dowland.'[ 
Feb. x6»jMADRIGALS, CANZONETS, C. 62I 

" My liege ! gods grant thy time may never end ! 
And yet vouchsafe to hear my plaint of time ; 
Which fruitless flies have found to have a friend, 
And I cast down, when atomies do climb !" 
The King replied but thus, " Peace, peevish bee ! 
Th'art bound to serve the time! and time, hot thee!" 

HE lowest trees have tops ! the ant, her gall ! 
The fly, her spleen ! the little spark, his heat ! 
] And slender hairs cast shadows, though but small ! 
And bees have stings, although they be not great ! 
Seas have their source, and so have shallow springs ! 
And Love is Love, in beggars and in kings ! 

Where waters smoothest run, deep are the fords. 
The dial stirs, yet none perceives it move. 
The firmest faith is in the fewest words. 
The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love. 
True hearts have eyes and ears, no tongues to speak ! 
They hear, and see, and sigh ; and then, they break ! 

HAT poor astronomers are they, 
Take women's eyes for stars ! 
And set their thoughts in battle 'ray, 
To fight such idle wars; 
When in the end they shall approve» 
'Tis but a jest drawn out of Love. 

And Love itself is but a jest 
Devised by idle heads, 
To catch young Fancies in the nest, 
And lay them in fools' beds ; 
That being hatched in beauty's eyes, 
They may be fledged, ere they be wise. 



622 

LYRICS, ELEGIES ¢¢ [Ea. byJ. Iowa,a. 
» Feb. x6o 3. 

But yet it is a sport to see, 
How Wit will run on wheels ! 
Vhile Wit cannot persuaded be, 
XVith that which Reason feels ; 
"That women's eyes and stars are odd, 
And Love is but a feignèd god! " 

But such as will run mad with Will, 
I cannot clear their sight ! 
But leave them to their study still, 
To look where is no light ! 
Till time too late, we make them try, 
They study false Astronomy ! 

A Dialogue. 

0ME, when I call, or tarry till I come ! 
If you be deaf, I must prove dumb! 
If thy Desire ever knew the grief of delay, 
No danger could stand in thy way! 
What need we languish ? Can Love quickly fly ? 
Fear ever hurts more than Jealousy! 
Then securely, Envy scorning, 
Let us end with joy, out mourning ! 
Jealousy still defy ! 
And love till we die ! " 

" Stay awhile ! my heavenly Joy ! 
I corne with wings of love, 
Vfhen envious eyes, rime shall remove. 
0 die hot, add this sorrow to my grief, 
That languish here, wanting relief. 
Then securely, Envy scorning, 
Let us end with joy, out mourning| 
Jealousy still defy! 
And love till we die ! " 



A true and just 
RELATION 

of 
Major-General Sir T tt o M A s M o I o a 
N'$ 
PROGRESS 

Six 

FRANCE 

in 

in 
and 
with the 

FLANDERS 

Thousand English, 

the years 1657 and 1658 , 
at the taking of 

DUNKIRK, 

and 
other important places. 

Is it was delivered by the General himsdf 

LONDON: 
Printed for J. N u T T, near Stationers' 
x699. 

Hall, 



624 

ADVERTISEMENT. 

IR THOMAS,, MORGAN drew u l) the followh,g Relation, 
af a friend s desire, who was unwilling that 5osterity 
should want an authentic account of the actions of the 
Six Thousand English, whom CRO.mWïLL sent fo 
assist the French against the S.aniards ; and thought the Right 
they did thcir country, by their behaviour, might make some 
ame-nds for the Occasion of thcir being in that service. 
It had been #rinted in the last reign Il.e., of JAMES II.], if the 
A uthority of it had hot inter.osed, because there was not so much 
said of some who were then in the Spanish army, as they ex.ected : 
and is #ublished now, to let the world see that more was owing 
to out country lhan either Monsieur BussY RABUTIN [ROGER 
DE RAZUTm, Count DiS BUSSV] (Part II. p. I35), or 
[EDMUND] LUDLOW (Part II. i- 56I), in their Memoirs 
do allow. The former by his manner of expression seems 
contented with an o..ortunity fo lessen their merit ; and being 
in the right wing of the French, while this #assed in the left, 
cornes nnder the just reflection he himsdf makes (Part II. i- 139) 
a little after, u.on the Describers of Fights, who are #articular 
in what thcy did hot see : and whether the latter was misin- 
formed, or swayed by his prejudice (Part II. lb. 496) fo those 
that were engaged to support the new erected Tyranny, is left to 
the reader fo judge. 
It may hot be improper to add, that these papers came fo the 
Publisher's hands, from the gentlemen af whose request they were 
written: and to whom Sir THOMAS [ORGAN co#rmed every 
paragraph of them, as they were read over, at the rime he delivered 
thcm, to him ; which, besides the unaffected lhlainness of the style, 
may be urged for the credit of the narrative, since Sir TI-IOMAS 
was entitled fo so much true re.utation, that he had no need t6 
grasp at any that was false. 

January 24, 1698 [i.e., I699 ]. 



6_5 

A true and just 

RELATION 

of 
hIajor-General Sir T H o M A S h/[ O R G _ N' S 
P R O G R E S S 

FRANCE 

in 
and FLA ND ERg 

xvith the 
Six Thousan d English 
in the years 657 and I658. 

HE French King, and lais Eminence the 
Cardinal h[AZARIN came to viev the Six 
Thousand English, near Charleroi; and 
: ordered Major-General hIORGAN vith the 
said Six Thousand English, to match and 
make conjunction with Marshal TURENNE'S 
 army: who, soon after the conjunction, 
beleaguered a town called St. Venant, on 
the borders of Flanders. 
Marshal TURENXE having invested the toxvn on the east 
side, and Major-General MOlZGAN with his Six Thousand 
English and a Brigade of French Horse on the west ; the 
army encamped betwixt Marshal TURENNE'S approaches [lines 
or parallels] and Major-General MoImAN'S. And being to 
relieve Count SCHOXtIERG out of the approaches of the west 
side of the tmvn, Major-General MORGAN marched into the 
approaches, with 8oo English. The English, at that time, 
being strangers in approaches, Major-General MORGAN 
instructed the Officers and soldiers to take their place, by 
fifties ; that thereby they might relieve the Point, to carry 
on the approaches, every hour. 
Exc. a_,tx, iv. 4o 



(526 .A_X ENGt.ISlt nEMEDY FOR INEXPERIENCE. [SirTllorgan. 
. 1659 . 

In the meantime, whilst we besieged the town ; the enemy 
had beleaguered a town called Ardres [_h. 837, within rive 
toiles of Calais. 
In the evening, Count SCHOBEr, G, with six Noblemen, 
came to the Point, to see how Major-General MORGalq 
ca,-ried on his approaches; but there happened a little 
confusion, by the soldiers intermingling themselves in the 
approaches, so as there was never an entire fifty, to be called 
to the Point. 
Count SCHOdIER and his Noblemen taking notice thereof; 
Major-General MOlRaN was much troubled, leaped upon the 
Point, and called out fifty to " take up the spades, pickaxes, 
and fascines, and follow him." But so it happened, that all 
Il.c., the 8oo] in the approaches leapt out after him; the 
enemy, in the meantime, firing as fast as tbey could. 
Major-General IXlolaalq, conceiving lais loss in bringing 
them to their approaches would be greater than in carrying 
them forward, passed over a channel of water on which there 
was a bridge and a turnpike, and the soldiers crying out, 
" Fall on ! Fall on ! " he fell upon the Counterscarp, beat the 
.enemy fl'om it and three Redoubts : vhich caused them to 
capitulate; and, the next morning, to surrender the town, 
.and receive a French garrison. So as the sudden reduction, 
thereof, gave Marshal T;P, ENE an opportunity, afterwards, 
to march and relieve Ardres. 

The next place, Marshal TURENNE besieged, was Mar- 
• lyke; taken, in twice eight and forty hours, by the English 
and French. After the taking thereof, Major-General 
MORt3AN was settled there; by the order of the French King 
and OLIVER, with 2,000 English and r,ooo French, in order 
to the beleaguering Dunkirk, the next Spring. The test of 
the English were quartered at 13orborch [Bourlough]. 
For the space of four months, there was hardly a week 
wherein Major-General MORGAN had not two or three alarms 
by the Spanish army. He answered to them all ; and never 
went out of his «lothes all the winter, except to change his 
shirt. 

The next Spring [i658], Marshal 'rURENNE beleaguered 
Dunkirk on the Newport side ; and Major-General MORaAN 



-$1rT;Morgan.!. ,659._  . "'X II E S I E G E O F D u  K i R K . 62 7 

n the Mardyke side, xvith hi Six Tho'usand Enlisl, and a 
Brigade of French Horse. He ruade a bridge over the 
canal betwixt that and Bergen, that there might be commu- 
nication betwixt Marshal TURENNE'S camp and his. 
When Dunkirk was close invested, Marshal TURENNE sent 
• a summons to the Governor, the Ma.rquis I)E LEII)a, a great 
Captain, and brave defender of a slege: but the summons 
being answered with defiance, Marshal TURENNE immediate!y 
broke ground; and carried on the approaches on his side, 
whilst the English did the saine, on theirs. And it is 
observable, the English had two toiles to march every day, 
upon relieving their approaches. 
In this manner the approaches were carried on, both by 
the French and English, for the space of twelve nights: 
when the Marshal TURENNE had intelligence that the Prince 
DE CONDÉ, the Duke of YORK aftcrwards, yAMES II., Don 
JOHN of AUSTRIA, and the Prince DE LIGN'," were at the head 
• of 30,000 horse and foot, with resolution to relieve Dunkirk. 
Immediatelv upon this intelligence, Marshal TURENNE 
.and several oblemen of France vent to the King and 
Cardinal, at Mardyke; acquainted his Eminence therewith, 
.and desired His Majesty and his Eminence the Cardinal to 
withdrav their persons into safety, and leave their orders. 
His Majesty ansvered that " Fie knev no better place of 
afety than at the head of his army;" but said, "It was 
.convenient the Cardinal should withdraw to Calais." 
Then Marshal TURENNE and the Noblemen ruade answer, 
• ' They could not be satisfied, except His Majesty withdrew 
himself into safety." \Vhich was assented to ; and the King 
and Cardinal marching to Calais, leff open orders with 
Marshal TURENNE that " If the enemy came on; to give 
battle or raise the siege, as he should be advised by a Council 
-of War." 
The enemy came on to Bruges, and then Marshal TURENNE 
thought it high time to call a Council of War; vhich con- 
sisted of eight Noblemen, eight Lieutenant-Generals, and 
-six Marschaux de Camp: but never sent to [the English] 
Ambassador LOCKHART, or Major-General I[ORGAN. 
The whole sense of the Council of War vas that " It was 
.great danger to the Crown of France to hazard a battle in 
Ihat strait [broken] country, full of canals and ditches of 



[-Sir T. Morgan. 
628 TIIE SECOND COUNCIL OF WAR. L ? x6»9.. 

xvater." And several reasons being shown to that purpose, 
it tan through the Council of War, "to raise the siege, if the 
enemy came on." 
\Vithin half an hour after the Council of \Var was risen, 
Major-General 1IOl6aN had the result of it in his camp; 
and went immediately fo Ambassador LOCIHalX to know if 
he had heard anything of it ? 
He said, " He had heard nothing of it " ; and complained 
that "he was much afflicted with the stone, gravel, and some 
other impediments." 
1Iajor-General IIoA¢ asked him " to go with him, the 
next morning, to the headquarters." 
He said, " He would, if he vere able." 
Next morning, Marshal "I'tIENE sent a Nobleman to 
Ambassador LOCl(Hn2T, and 1Iajor-General 1Io6.«q; to 
desire them to come to a second Council of War. 
Immediately, therefore, Ambassador LOCKHART and 
Najor-General iIo26n vent vith the Nobleman to Marshal 
"I'çlin's camp: and, by that rime they came there, the 
Council of War was ready to sit down in Marshal 
tent. 
Marshal "I'ç2n satisfied the Council of \Var that " He- 
had forgot to send for Ambassador LocHnR'r and lIajor- 
General iIo1.«¢ to the first Council of \Var ; and therefore 
thought fit to call this, that they might be satisfied! " and 
then put the question, " \Vhether if the enemv came on, he 
should make good the siege on the Newport side, and give 
them battle : or raise the siege ? " and required they should 
give their reasons for either. 
The Mareschmx de Camp ran away with it [i.e., the idea'_., 
clearly to raise the siege; alleging what danger it was to 
the Crown of France to hazard a battle, within so strait a 
.country, full of canals and ditches of water: further alleg- 
lng that if the enemy came upon the Bank, they would cut 
between Marshal TVREmE'S and Major-General 
camps, and prevent their conjunction. 
Two of the Lieutenant-Generals ran along with the 
Marcschaux dc Cam]); and shewed the same reasons. 
But Major-General MORI (finding that it was high time 
to speak, and that otherwise it would go round the board 
[table]) rose up, and desired, though out of course, that he 



irT. Morgan.'] i[ORGAN ON ItlS KNEES FOR A 13ATTLE. 629 
. îsg. A 

might declare his mind in opposition to what the Mareschaux  
de Camp and the two Lieutenant-Generals had declared. 
Marshal TVIENNE told him, " He should have fleedom to 
speak his thoughts." 
Then Major-General MORGAN spoke, and said that " The 
reasons the Marcscha:m de Camp and the two Lieutenant- 
t3enerals had given for raising the siege, were no reasons: 
for the straitness of the country was as good for the French 
and English as for the enemy." And whereas they had 
alleged that " If the enemy came on the Bank between 
Furnes and Dunkirk, they would cut between Marshal 
"I'VRENNE'S and Major-General MORGAI'S camps." Major- 
General MORGAI replied, " It was impossible, for they could 
hot march upon the ]3ank above eight a breast; and that 
Marshal TURENNE'S artillery and small shot would cut them 
ff at pleasure." He added, " That vas not the way, the 
enemy could relieve Dunkirk ! but that they would make a 
.bridge of boats over the channel in an hour and a half; and 
• cross their army on to the sands of Dunkirk, to offer Marshal 
"I'URENNE battle." Further, Major-General IIoRAN did 
.allege, " \Vhat a dishonour it would be to the Crown of 
France! to have summoned the city of Dunkirk, and broke 
ground before it, and run away! And he desired the Council 
-of War would consider that, if they raised the siege, the 
alliance with England would be broken the saine hour." 
Marshal TURENNE answered that, " If he thought the 
-e.nemy would offer that fait game ; he would maintain the 
-slege on the Newport side; and Major-General MORGAN 
should match, and make conjunction with the French army, 
• md leave the Mardyke side open." 
Upon Marshal TUIENIE's reply, Major-General MORGAI 
did fise from the board, and, upon his knees, begged a battle ; 
and said that "he would venture the Six Thousand English, 
every soul !" 
Upon which, Marshal TURENNE consulted the Noblemen 
that sat next to him ; and it was desired that Major-General 
IORGAN might walk a turn or two without the tent ; and he 
hould be called immediately. 
Affer he had walked two turns, he was called in. As 
soon as he came in, Marshal TUIEIIE said that " He had 
¢onsidered his reasons; and that himself and the Council of 



[ Sir T. lIoran. 
630 LOCKHART DESERTS TIIE ENGLISI-[ BRIGADE.  ? 659- 

War resolved to give battle to the enemy, if they came on ; 
and to maintain the siege on the Newport side: and that. 
Major-General MOROAN was to male ccnjunction with the 
French army." 
Major-G¢neral MOROaN then said, " That, with GOD's. 
assistance, we should be able to deal with them !" 

The very next day, at four in the afternoon, the Spanisb. 
army had ruade a bridge of boats, crossed their army on the- 
sands of Dunkirk, and drew up into battalia [_line of battle],. 
within two miles of Marshal TVIENNE'S lines ; before he- 
knew anything of them. 
Immediately, all the French horse drew out to face the- 
enemy at a mile's distance; and Marshal TURENNE sent 
immediate orders to Major-General Mor¢6n to march into. 
his camp, with the Six Thousand English and the Frencb_ 
13ri.ade of Horse. Which was done accordingly. 
The next day, about eight o'clock, Marshal TVrENNE gave 
orders to break avenues on both the lines, that the army 
might march out in battalia. 
Major-General MOR6AX set his soldiers to break avenues, 
for their marching out in battalia likewise. Several Officers. 
being with him, as he was looking on his soldiers at work ; 
Ambassador LOCKHART cornes up, with a white cap on his- 
head, and said to Major-General I[OROAN, " You see what 
condition I ara in ! I ara not able to give you any assistance 
this day! You are the older soldier, and the greatest part 
of the work of this day must lie upon your soldiers!" 
Upon which, tbe Officers smiled. So he bade " GOD be with 
us!" and went away with the Lieutenant-General of the 
Horse, that was upon out left wing. From which time, we 
never saw him till we were in pursuit of the enemy. 
When the avenues were cleared, both the French ancl 
English armies marched out of the lines towards the enemy. 
We were forced to march up in four lines [? columns] (for 
we had not room enough to wing [ ? spread out into line] for 
the canal between Furnes and Dunkirk, and the sea) till we- 
had marched above hall a mile. 
Then we came to a halt on rising hills of sand ; and having 
more room took in [ ? slread out2 two of our lines. 
Major-General MORGAN seeing the enemy plain, in Dattalia,, 



SirT. Morgan.- 
? ,659 A TIIE MANNERS OF TIIE tNGLIStI REDCOATS. 6 3 r 

said, before the head of the army, "See, yonder are the 
gentlemen you have to trade withal [ " 
Upon which, the whole Brilzade of English gave a shout 
of rejoicing, that ruade a roaring echo betwixt the sea and 
the canal. 
Thereupon, the Marshal TtJrENE came up, with above a 
hundred Noblemen, to know what .was the matter, and the 
reason of that great shout ? 
Major-General MoIA told him, " It was a usual custom 
of the redcoats, when they saw the enemy, to rejoice." 
Marshal TUIENE answered, "They were men of brave 
l'esolution and courage." 
After which, Marshal TUr, nNE returning to the head of 
his army ; we put on to our march again. 

At the second halt, the vhole Brigade of English gave a 
shout, and cast up their caps into the air; saying, " They 
would have better bats before night ! " 
Marshal TçRENNE, upon that shout, came up again, with 
several Noblemen and Officers of the army, admiring the 
resolution of the English, at which rime, we vere within 
three-quarters of a toile of the enemy in balalia. 
Marshal TçRENNE desired Major-General MOaGA that, at 
the next halt, he would keep even ri'ont with the French ; for 
says he, " I do intend to halt at some distance, that we may 
sec hov the enemy is drawn up; and take out advantage 
accordingl_v." 
Major-General MOr,AN demanded of his Excellency, 
"\Vhether he would sb.ock the whole army at one dash ; or 
trv one wing first ? " 
Marshal TURENNn'S reply vas, "That as to that question, 
he could not resolve him yet, till he came nearer the enemy." 
Major-General MORGaN desired the Marshai, "hOt to let 
him languish for orders!" saying that "oftentimes oppor- 
tunities are often lost, for want of orders in due time." 
Marshal TrRF.NNE said, " He would either corne himself, 
and give orders ; or send a Lieutenant-General." 
And so Marshal TUREmE parted, and went to the head of 
his army. 
Iii the meantime, Major-General MORaN gave orders to 
the Colonels and Leading Officers [i.e., C@lais ad Lieu- 



632 A STRANGE FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN ENEMIES. [si,- T 
1659. 

tenants], to have a special care that, vhen the French came 
to a halt, they kept even front with them : and further told 
them, that, "if they could hot observe the French, thev 
should take notice when he lifted up his hat," for he marchent 
still above three score [yards] belote the centre of the Bodies. 
But when the French came to halt, it so happened that 
the English pressed upon their Leading Officers, so that 
they came up under the shot of the enemy; but when thev 
saw that Major-General lXIORGAN was in a passion, they put 
themselves to a stand. Major-General MORGAN could soon 
have remedied their forwardness, but he was resolved that he 
would not lose one foot of ground he had advanced; but 
would hold it as long as he could. 
We were so near the enemy, the soldiers fell into great 
friendship. One asking, " Is such an Officer in your army ?" 
Another, " Is such a soldier in yours ? " And this passed 
on both sides. 
Major-General lXlolmA. endured this friendship for a little 
while; and then came up to the centre of the Bodies, and 
demanded, " How long that friendship would continue ? " 
and told them further that "for anything they knew, they 
would be cutting one another's throats vithin a minute of 
an hour ! " 
The whole Brigade answered, " Thcir fliendship should 
continue no longer than he pleased ! " 
Then Major-General IIORN bade thern tell the enemy, 
" No more friendship [ Prepare your buff coats and scarfs [ 
for we will be v«ith you, sooner than you expect us [ " 
Immediately after the fl'iendship was broke, the enemy 
poured a volley of shot into one of our battalions, wounded 
three or four and one dropped. 

The lIajor-General immediately sent the Adjutant-General 
to Marshal TUREE, for orders; " Whether he should 
charge the enemy's right wing, or whether Marshal TtJr, ENNE 
would engage the enemy's ieft wing ?'" and advised the 
Adjutant-General hot to stay, but to acquaint Marshal 
TUIENE that we were under the enemy's shot, and had 
received some prejudice already. 
But there was no return of the Adjutant-General, nor 
orders. 



SirT. Moran.-],659._l BLUE c°x: WIIITE REGIMENTS ATTACK FIRST. 633 

By-and-by, the enemy poured in another volley of shot 
into another of our battalions ; and wounded tvo or three. 
Major-General MORGAN (observing the enemy mending 
faults, and opening the intervals of the Foot to bring the 
Horse in, which would have ruade our work more difficult) 
called all the Colonels and Officers of the Field [Field 
@cers, as distig«ishcd ff'o» Lcadig Qcers], together 
betbre the centre of the Bodies, and told them, " He had 
• Sent the Adjutant-General for orders ; but when he saw there 
was no hope of orders, he told them, if they would concur 
with him, he would immediately charge the enemy's right 
vln. 
Their answcr was, " They were ready, whenever he gave 
rders." 
He told them, "He vould try the right wing vith the 
Blue Regiment, and the 400 Firelocks which vere in the 
intervals of the French Horse;" and vished all the Field 
Ocers to be ready at their several posts. 
Major-General MoRaa gave orders that " The other rive 
Regiments should not move ff'oto their ground ; except they 
sav the Blue Regiment, the Vhite, and the 400 Firelocks 
shock the enemy's right wing right off the ground:" and 
further shewed the several Colonels, what Colours they vere 
to charge; and told them moreover that, " If he were not 
knocked on the head, he would corne to them." 
In like manner, as fast as he could, he admonished the 
whole Brigade; and told them, "They were to look in the 
face of an enemy vho had violated and endeavoured to take 
avay their reputation ; and that they had no other vay but 
to fight it out to the last man [ or to be killed, taken prisoner, 
r drovned[" And further, that " The honour of England 
did depend much upon their gallantry and resolution that 
.day [" 
The enemy's ving was posted on a sandy hill, and had 
.cast the sand breast-high betbre them. 
Then Major-General MORGAN did order the Blue Regiment 
and the 400 Firelocks to advance to the Charge. In the 
.meantime, knowing the enemy vould all bend upon them 
that did advance; he removed the Vhite Regiment more to 
he right, that it might be in the flank of them by that time, 
he Blue Regiment was got within push of pike. 



634 6,000 ENGLISH CIIASE TItE SPANISII AR5v. I-Sir T. Mor¢an. 
[_ ? 659. 

His Royal Highness, the Duke of YORK, with a select 
party of Horse, had got into the Blue Regiment, by that 
time the \Vhite came in. and exposed his person to great 
danger. But we knew nobody at that rime. 
Immediately, the enemy were clear shocked off tbeir 
ground; and tbe English Colours flying over their heads, 
the strongest Officers and soldiers clubbing them down. 
Major-General MOIGAN, when he saw his opportunity, 
stepped to the other rive Regiments, which were within six 
score [yards] of him; and ordered them to advance and 
charge immediately. 
But when they came within ten pikes' lengtb, the enemy 
perceiving they were not able to endure our charge, shaked 
their hats, held up their handkerchiefs, and called for 
" Quarter ! " 
But the Redcoats cried aloud, " They had not leisure for 
Quarter ! " 
Whereupon the enemy faced about, and would not endure 
our charge; but fell to run: having the English Colours 
over their beads, and our strongest soldiers and Officerg 
clubbing them down. So that the Six Thousand English 
carried ten or twelve thousand Horse and Foot before them. 
The French army was about musket shot in the rear of 
us, where they came [had corne] to a halt ; and never moved 
off their ground. 
The rest of the Spanish army, seein the right wing carried 
away, and the English Colours flying over their heads, 
wheeled about in as good order as thev could. So that we 
had the whole Spanish army belote us! and Major-General 
MORGAN called out to the Colonels, " To the right ! as much 
as )'ou can !" that so, we might have all the enemy's army 
under the English Colours. 
The Six Thousand Enlish carried all the Spanish armv 
[belote it] as far as from \Vestminster Abbey to [St.] Paul'-s 
Churchyard, before ever a Frenchman came in, on eitheï 
wing of us. But tben, at last, we could perceive tbe French 
Horse corne powdering [scattercd] on each wing with much 
gallantry : but they never struck one stroke; and only carried 
prisoners back to the camp. 
Neither, did we ever see the Ambassador LOCKI4aRT till we 
were in pursuit of the enemy ; and then, we could see him 



Si, T.aor¢an.-I x6s9.A T IIES U RRENDER OF DUNKIRK. 635; 

amongst us, very brisk ; without his xvhite cap on his head; 
and neither troubled with gravel or stone. 
\Vhen we xvel'e at the end of the pursuit, Marshal TURENNE: 
and above a hundred Officers of the army came up to us, 
quitted their horses, embraced the Officers, and said, " Thev 
never saw a more glorious action in their lires! and tha't 
they were so transported with the sight of it, that they had no. 
power to move, or to do anything." And this high compliment, 
we had for out pains ! In a word, the I»rench army did hot 
strike one stroke in the battle of Dunkirk; only the Six 
Thousand English ! 
After ,,ve had done pursuing the enemy, Major-General 
MORGaN rallied his forces, and marched over the sands 
to where he had shocked them at first, to see what slaughter 
there ,,vas ruade. But Ambassador LOCKHART went into the 
camp as fast as he could, to write his letters for England, 
of what great service he had done [ which was just nothing  

Marshal TURENNE and Major-General MORGAN brought 
the armies close to invest Dunkirk again, and to carry on the: 
approaches. 
The Marquis D LEID happened to be in the Counter- 
scarp, and received an accidental shot, whereof he died: 
and the vhole garrison, being discouraged at his death, came. 
to capitulate in a fexv davs. 
So the town was surrêndered, and Ambassador LOCKHART 
marched into it, with two Regiments of English for a 
garrison: but Major-General MORGAN kept the field with 
Marshal TURENNE, with his other four Regiments of. 
English. 

The next siege was Bergen St. Winock, six miles from. 
Dunkirk; which Marshal TVRENaE beleaguered with the- 
French army, and the four Regiments of Eglish : and, in 
four or rive days' siege, it was taken upon capitulation. 
Marshal TVREINE did rest the army for two davs after ;. 
and then resolved to march through the heart of 'landers, 
and take what towns he could, that campaign. 
The next town he took was Furnes, the next Menin ; aftet- 
that, Oudenarde : and, in a word, eight towns besides Dunkirk 
and Ypres. For so soon as the Redcoats came near thoe 



636 T II E S I E G E O F T P R E S. c rLS;% 
Moran. 
• 659- 

counterscarps, there was nothing, but a capitulation, and a 
Sul'render presently. All the towns ve took were towns of 
strength [i.c., fortifcd]. 

The last siege we made, was before the city of Ypres, 
where the Prince I)E LtGNY had cast himself in before, for 
"the defence of that city, vith 2,5oo Horse and Dragoons. 
l¢esides, there xvere in the city, 4,ooo burghers, all proper 
young men, under their arms. So that the garrison did 
consist of 6,5oo men. 
Marshal TURENNE sent in a summons; which was 
ansvered by a defiance. 
Then Marshal TURENNE broke ground, and carried on two 
approaches tovardsthe Counterscarp. Major-General MORGAN 
went into the approaches every night, for fear of any mis- 
carriage by the English ; and came out of the approaches 
every morning at sunrising, to take lais rest : for then the 
• soldiers had done working. 
The fourth morning, Major-General IIORGAN went to take 
his rest in his tent; but, within hall an hour afterwards, 
Marshal TUIEmE sent a Nobleman to him, to desire him to 
come to speak with him. When the Major-Generai came, 
there were above a hundred Noblemen and Officers of the 
• army walldng about lais tent. And lais Gentlemen had decked 
a room for his Excellency with lais sumpter clotbs; in vbich 
homely place, tbere were about twenty Officers of the army 
with him: but as soon as Major-General MoIGaI came, 
Marshal T_EIE desired all of tbem to retire, for he had 
.something to communicate to the Major-General. 
The room was immediately cleared, and Marshal 
turned the Gentlemen of bis Cbamber out, and shut the 
• door himself. When this was done, he desired the Major- 
General to sit down by him ; and the first news that be spake 
of was that " be had certain intelligence that the Prince of 
ColwÉ and Don Jual of AUSTRIA were at the head of II,OOO 
Horse and 4,ooo Foot, within three leagues ofthis camp: and 
resolved to break through one of our quarters, to relieve the 
city of Ypres," and therefore he desired Major-General 
MOnGAN to have all the Englisb, under their arms, every 
night, at sunset; and the French army should be so like- 
-wibe. 



SirT. 
BIorgan.'] 
GENERAL I([ORGAN PROPOSES AN ASSAULT. 6S7 

Major-General MORGA,'q replied, and said, "The Prince of 
COltinÉ and Don JUAX of Austria were great Captains ; and 
that they might dodge xvith Marshal TURENNE, to fatigue 
his army :" and, further, that " If he did keep the army three 
nights to that hard shift, they would not care xvho did knock 
them on the head !" 
Marshal TURENNE replied, " We must do it, and surmount 
ail difficulty !" 
The Major-General desired to knov of his Excellency,. 
" \Vhether he xvas certain, the enemy was so near him ? " 
He answered. " He had two spies just corne from them." 
Then Major-General [ORGAN told him, " His conditio 
xvas somewhat desperate!" and said that "A desperate 
disease must have a desperate cure!" 
His lSxcellency asked, " What he meant ?" 
Major-General MORGAN did offer him, to attempt the 
Counterscarp upon [by] an assault ; and so put ail things out 
of doubt, xvith expedition. 
The Major-General had no sooner said this ; but Marshal' 
TURENNE joined his hands, and looked up, through the boards, 
towards the heavens, and said, " Did ever my Master, the 
King of France, or the King of Spain attempt a Counter- 
scarp upon an assault : where there xvere three Half Moons 
covered with cannon, and the ramparts of the town playing- 
point blank into the Counterscarp ? " 
Further, he said, " What xvill the King, my Master, sa3" 
of me, if I expose his army to these hazards ? " And he rose 
up, and fell into a passion, stamping with his feet, and shak- 
ing his locks, and grinning xvith his teeth, he said, " Major- 
General IORGAN had ruade him mad ! " 
But, by degrees, he cooled, and asked the Major-General, 
" Whether he would stay to dinner with him ? " 
But the Major-General begged his pardon, for he had ap- 
pointed some of the Officers to eat a piece of beef at his tent 
that dav. 
His C¤eÂÂen¤y asked him, " If he would meet him at two 
o'clock, at the opening of the approaches ? " 
The Major-General said, " He would be punctual, but 
desired he would bring none of his train with 1-tim (for it was 
usuallv a hundred Noblemen with their feathers and ri- 
bands ; because if he did, he would have no opportunity to 



.638 TURENNE & IIORGAN VIËW COUNTERSCARP.E siT" 
.v a639" 

take a view of the Counterscarp : for the enemy would dis- 
-cover them, and tire incessantly." 
His Excellencysaid, "He would bring none but two or three 
.of the Lieutenant-Generals." 

Major-General ]IOROAN was at the place appointed, a 
• quarter of an hour before lais Excellency: who then came 
with eight Noblemen, and three Lieutenant-Generals, and 
look a place to viexv the Counterscarp. 
After he had looked a considerable lime upon it : he turned 
about, and looked upon the Noblemen and Lieutenant- 
Generals and said, " I don't know what to say to )'ou ! Here 
is Major-General MOROAN has put me out of my wits! for 
he would bave me attempt yonder Counterscarp upon an 
assault." 
None of the Noblemen or Lieutenant-Generals ruade any 
reply to him ; but Count SCHOMBERG, WhO said, " My Lord ! 
I think Major-General MO1ROAN would offer nothing to your 
Lordship, but what he thinks feasible : and he knows he has 
_good fighting men." 
Upon this, Marshal TURENNE asked, " How many English 
he would venture ?" 
The Major-General said, " He would venture 6oo common 
men, besides Officers; and fifty pioneers." 
Marshal TURENNE said, "600 of Monsieur LA FERTÉ'S 
.army and 5 ° Pioneers; and 60o of his own army and 5 ° 
Pioneers more, vould make better [more than 2,000 men." 
Major-General MORA replied, " They were abundance 
to carry it, with GOD's assistance." 
ïhen his Excellency said, " He would acquaint the King 
,and his Eminence that Major-General MoR_«I had put him 
upon that desperate design." 
Major-General IIOROAN desired his pardon, " For it was 
.:in his [the Marshal's] power to attempt it, or hot to attempt 
it." 
But in the close, Marshal TVRENE said to the Major- 
General that " He must fall into Monsieur L,« FERTÉ'S 
• approaches, and that he should take the one hall of Monsieur 
LA FERTÉ's men; and that he would take the other hall 
into his own approaches." 
Major-General MoIa,N begged his pardon, and said" He 



qirT. Morgan.-]? ;659._ ] ANOTrER MOVING BIRNa_ \VoolS. 639 

desired to fall on with the English entire by themselves, 
without interming, ling them." 
Marshal TtRENNI replied, " He must fall on out of one of 
the approaches ! " 
The Major-General replied that " He would fall on in the 
plain between both approaches." 
His Excellency said that " He vould never be able to 
endure their firing; but that they v«ould kill half his men 
before he could come to the Counterscarp." 
The Major-General said that " He had an invention, that 
the enemy should not perccive him, till he had lais hands 
upon the stockadoes." 
Next, lais Excellency said, " For the signal, there shall be 
.a captain of Monsieur LA FERTÉ's, vith 2o Firelocks ; who 
shall leap upon the Point, and ciy, Sa ! Sa ! Vive le Roi de 
1france ! "and upon that noise ail were to fall on together. 
But Major-General MORGAN opposed that signal, saying, 
" The enemy would thereby be alarmed, and then he should 
hardly endure their firing." 
His Excellency replied then, that " He would give no signal 
at ail ! but the Major-General should give it ! "and he would 
hot be persuaded otherwise. 
Then the Major-General desired his Excellency that he 
would give order to them in the approaches, to keep them- 
selves in readiness against sunset ; for at the shutting of the 
night he would fall on. He likewise desired his Excellency 
that he vould order a Major out of his own approaches, and 
another out of Monsieur LA FERTé'S approaches to stand by 
him, and when he should be ready to fall on, he vould 
despatch the two Majors into each of the approaches, that 
they might be ready to leap out vhen the Major-General 
passed between the two approaches with the commanded 
English. 

Just at sunset, Marshal TURENNE came himself, and told 
the Major-General " He might fall on, when he sa;v his mvn 
rime." 
The Major-General replied, " He v«ould fall on just at 
the setting of the night, and when the dusk of the evening 
came on." 
The Major-General made the English stand to their arms, 



64o THe FRENCH ARE BEATEN OFF 
• ? x65. 

and divided them into Bodies ; a Captain at the head of the 
Pioneers, and the Major-General and a Colonel at the head 
of the two Battalions. 
He ordered the two batta|ions and the pioneers, eæch man, 
to take up a long fascine upon their muskets and pikes ; and 
then, they were three small groves of wood 
Immediately the Major-Generat commanded the two 
Majors to go to their approaches; and that they should leap 
out so soon as they should see the Major-General match 
between their approaches, and did order the two battalions 
that vhen they came within three score [yards] of the 
stockadoes to slip [off] their fascines, and fall on. 
But it so hippened that the French never moved out of 
their approaches, till such rime as Major-General 
had overpovered the enemy. 

\Vhen the Pioneers came within sight of the stockadoes, 
they slipped the fascines down, and fell on: the Major- 
General and the two battalions were close to them. When 
the soldiers began to lay their hands on the stockadoes they 
tore them down, for the length of six score [yards] ; and 
leaped pell mell into the Counterscarp amongst the enemy. 
Abundance of the enemv were drowned in the moat; and 
many taken prisoners, ,ith two German Princes; and the 
Counterscarp cleared. 
The French were in their approaches all this time. Then, 
the English fell on upon the Half Moons ; and immediately 
the Redcoats were on the top of them ; throwing the enemy 
into the moat, and turning the cannon upon the town. Thus 
the two Half Moons were speedily taken. 
After the manning of the Hall Moons, he did rally all 
the English, vith intention to lodge them upon the Counter- 
scarp, that he might be free of the enemy's shot the next 
morning. And they left the other Half Moon for Marshal 
"I'UEE'S part)', which was even before their approaches.. 
Then the French fell on upon the other Hall Moon; but 
were beaten off. 
The Major-General considered that that Half Moon would 
gall him in the day time, and, therefore, did speak to the 
Officers and soldiers, that " it were best to give them a little 
help." 



SirT.t Morgan.]z659..i "A T I T, H A P P Y-G O- L U C K Y .V" 641 
The Redcoats cried, " Shall we fall on in order, or happy- 
go-lucky." 
The Major-General said, "In the naine of GOD! at it, 
happy-go-lucky ! " And immediately the Redcoats fell on, 
and were on the top of it, knocking the enemy down, and 
casting them into the moat. 
Vfhen this work was done the Major-General lodged the 
English on the Counterscarp. 
They were no sooner lodged, but Marshal TURENNE 
scrambled over the ditches to find out the Major-General ; and 
xvhen he metwith him, he was much troubled the French did 
no better; for, indeed, they did just nothing ! 
Then his Excellency asked the Major-General to "go to 
his approaches to refresh himself." 
But the Major-General begged his pardon, and said, " He 
would not stir from his post, till he heard a drum beat a 
parley, and sav a white flag over the walls." 
Upon that, Marshal TURENNE laughed and smiled, and 
said, "They would not be at that pass, in six days! and 
then went to his approaches, and sent the Major-General 
three or four dozen of rare wine, with several dishes of cold 
meat and sweetmeats." 
\Vithin two hours after sun-rising, a drum beat a parley, 
and a white flag vas seen over the walls. 
The Major-General ordered a Lieutenant, with a file of 
musketeers, to go and receive the drummer, and to blindfold 
him, and to carry him straight to Marshal TURENNE in his 
approaches. 
Marshal TURENNE came immedi-ately, with the drum- 
mer's message, to the Major-General ; and svas much troubled 
he xvould not receive the message, belote it came to him. 
The Major-General replied that "that was very improper, 
his Excellency being upon the place." 
The message vas to this effect, ,«That whereas his 
Excellency had offered them honourable terres in his sum- 
ruons, they were nov willing to accept of them, provided 
they might have their Charter and the privileges of the city 
preserved. That they had appointed four of their Commis- 
sioners to treat further with four Commissioners from his 
Excellency." 
Ea. G.. IV. 41 



64 TESTIMONY AS TO THE 6,000 ENGLISH. ÇSirT. lklorgan. 
[_ - 6S9. 

Marshal TURENNE was pleased fo asked the Major- 
General " whether he would be one of the Commissioners ? " 
but the Major-General begged his pardon, and desired that 
he might abide at his post till such time as the city was 
surrendered up. 
Immediately then, his Excellency sent for Count SCHOt- 
BERa and three other Commissioners, and gave them instruc- 
tions how to treat with the four Commissioners from the 
enemy. Just as Marshal TUlENNE was giving the Com- 
missioners instructions, Major-General lXIORaaN said " that 
the enemy were hungry! so that they xvould eat any 
meat they could bave " : whereupon his Excellency smiled, 
and shortened their instructions, and sent them away. 
\Vithin hall an hour, the Commissioners had concluded. 
That they should bave their City Charter preserved. 
That they were to receive a French garrison in. And 
that the Prince DE LIGNY was to march out vith all his 
forces, next morning, at nine o'clock, with one piece of 
cannon, colours flying, bullet in mouth, and match 
lighted at both ends ; and to have a convoy to conduct 
him into his own territories. 
Marshal TURENNE was in the morning betimes, with 
several Noblemen and Officers of the army, and Major- 
General MORGaN attending near the gate, for the Prince Ira 
LIGNY'S coming out. 
The Prince having noticed that Marshat TuIENnE was 
there, came out of his coach; Marshal TUREnNE being 
alighted from his horse, and Major-General MORGa : at 
their meeting there was a great acclamation, and embracing 
one another. 
After a little time, Marshal TUREE told the Prince" He 
very much admired [wondcred] that he should expose his 
person to a garrison before a conquering army." 
The Prince I)E LIGNY replied that " If Marshal TURENNE 
had leff his English in England, he durst bave exposed his 
person in the weakest garrison the King of Spain had in 
Flanders." 
So they parted, and his Excellency rnarched into the town 
with a French garrison, and the Major-General with him. 

So soon as the garrison was settled, Marshal TURENNE 



Sir T. Morgan.- 1 
PIIANTO3I CUPBOARD OF PLATE. 643 
 z659.1 

wrote his letters to the French King, and his Eminence the 
Cardinal, how that " the city of Ypres was reduced to the 
obedience of His Majesty, and that he was possessed of it ; 
and that Major-General MORGAN was instrumental in that 
service, and that the English did wondersI" and sent the 
Intendant of the Army with his letters to the King and 
Cardinal. 
Monsieur TALLON, the Intendant, returned back from the 
King and Cardinal to the army within eight days, and 
brought a compliment to Major-General MORGAN that "the 
King and his Eminence the Cardinal did expect to see him 
at Paris, when he came to his winter quarters ! where there 
xvould be a Cupboard of Plate [i.e., of gold and silver iblate] 
to attend him." 

Major-General MORGAN, instead of going for his Cupboard 
of Plate, went for England ; and His Majesty of France had 
never the kindness to send him his Cupboard of Plate. So 
that this is the reward that Major-General MOIGAN had had 
from the French King, for all his service in France and 
Flanders. 

Killed af the Battle of Dunkirk. 

Lieutenant-Colonel FENWICK, tvo Captains, one Lieu- 
tenant, two Ensigns, two Sergeants, thirty-tvo soldiers. 
And about twenty wounded. 

Killed at the Stor»ing of Ypres. 

One Captain, one Sergeant, eight private soldiers. 
[Wounded], about twenty-five officers, out of thirty-five; 
and about six soldiers slightly wounded after they xvere 
lodged upon the Counterscarp. 
Sir THOMAS MORGAN himself slightly hurt by a shot in 
the calf of his leg. 

THE END. 



644 

Lyrics, Ele,ies, _Yc. from 
Cnzonets, ff c. 

Madri.çals, 

J o ii N D o w L A N D, Bachelor of Music, &c., 
Lutenist to the Lord V A L D E No 

 P;Lqa' SOLACE 

I612. 

To THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 

THEOPHILUS, Lo» WALDEN, 
SON AND HEIR TO THE MOST NOBLE 
T H O M A S, BARON OF V A L D E N, EaRL OF 
S U F F O L K, Lord Chamberlain of His blajesty's 
Household, Knight of the most noble Order of 
the Garter, and one of His Majesty's most 
honourable Privy Council. 

MOST HONOURED LORD» 
] 5" TO exccl in any quality is very rare, so is it 
I a hard thing to find out those that favour 
[ Virtue and Learning : but such being found, 
[ ,,tcn of judgement are drawn (I know hot by 
] what s3.mbalhy ) to love and honour them, a. 
[ lhc Saints and Sovereigus of their affectious 
• and dcvices. Wherefore, most worthy Lord ! 
3'out Houour, bcin,¢ of all mcn noted (as natural boru heir of 
your most renowtcd filher and mothcr) to be the only and alo:..-.,. 



J. Do'.vland.-] 
.Oct.,6,,.a T o T i E R E A  E . 645 
Sufiortcr of goodness and excellcncy : [and] known o none bcttcr 
(unless I shouM be the most 2,ngrat,ul of all othcrs!) than nwsclf ; 
vho ara hcM ufi only by your gracious hand. For which, I can 
shcw no other mcans of thankfldness than thcse simçle fi'uits of my 
poor cndcavours, which I most humbly firesent as a fiublic filedge 
ri'oto a true and devotcd hcart ; hofiing hercafter to ficrform somc- 
thing, wherci» I shall shcw mysclf more worthy of your honourable 
scrvice. 
I- the meantime, you shall bave a fioor man' s firaycrs #r yom" 
Lordship's continual hcalth, and daily incrcase of honour. 
Your Honour's humble scrvant, 
yOHN DOIVLAND. 

To the Rcader. 

WORTHY GENTLEMEN, AND M" LOVING COUNTRYMEN, 
OVED by your many and foretasted courtesies, I 
am constrained to appear again unto you. True 
it is, I bave lien long obscured from 3cour sight, 
because I received a Kingly entertainment in a 
foreign climate, which could hot attain to any (though 
never so mean lai) place at home. Yet bave I held 
up my head within this horizon, and not altogether been 
affected elsewhere; since some part of my poor labours 
bave found favour in the greatest part of Europe, and been 
printed in eight most famous cities beyond the seas, viz. : 
Paris, Antwerp, Cologne, Nuremburg, Frankfort, Leipsic, 
Amsterdam, and Hamburg; yea, and some of them also 
authorised under the Emperor's royal privilege. 
Yet I must tell you, as I bave been a stranger, so have 
I again found strange entertainment since my return : espe- 
cially, by the opposition of two sorts of people that shroud 
themselves under the titles of Musicians. 
The first are some simple Cantors or vocaI singers ; who, 



[-j. Dowland. 
646 T o T H E R E A D E R. L .oct. ,6,,. 

tbough they seem excellent in their blind Division-making, 
are merely ignorant, even in the first elements of Music ; . 
and also in the true order of the mutation of the Hexachord 
in tbe ystem, which hath been approved by all the learned 
and skilful men of Christendom, these 800 years. Yet do 
these fellows give their verdict of me behind my back ; and 
say, [that] what I do " is after the old manner." But I will 
speak openly to them, and would have them knov, that the 
proudest Cantor of them dares hot oppose himself face to 
face against me. 
The second are young men, professors of the Lute, who 
vaunt themselves to the disparagement of such as have been 
before their time (wherein I myself am a party), that there 
never vas the like of them. To these men I say little, because 
of my love and hope to see some deeds ensue [fl'om] their 
brave words. And also [it] being that, here, under their own 
noses, hath been published a book in defence of the Viol de 
Gamba ; wherein not only all other the best and principal 
instruments have been abased, but especially the Lute by 
name. The words, to satisfy thee, Reader! I have here 
thought good to insert ; and are as followeth : " From hence- 
forth, the stately instrument Gambo Viol shall with ease 
yield full, various, and deviceful music as the Lute : for here 
I protest the trinity of music--Parts, Passion, and Division-- 
to be as gracefully united in the Gambo Viol, as in the 
most received instrument that is," &c. "Which imputation, 
methinks, the learneder sort of musicians ought hOt to let 
pass unans»vered. 
Moreover there are here, and daily doth corne into out most 
famous kingdom, divers strangers from beyond the seas, 
which aver belote out own faces, that we have no true 
method of application or fingering of the Lute. 
Now if these gallant young Lutenists be such as they 
would have the world believe (and )f which I make no doubt) 
let them remember that their skill lieth not in their fingers' 
ends. Cuculhs non facit monachum [A hood docs hot make a 



J. Dowland.-[ 
.o«.,6,,.j T O T H E R E A D E R. 647 

monk]. I wish for the honour, therefore, and general benefit 
of our country, that they would undertake the defence of 
their Lute profession; seeing that some of them, above 
other, bave most large means, convenient rime, and such 
encouragement as I never knew any bave. 
13elieve me, if any of these objections had been ruade when 
those famous men lived, which are now thought worthy of 
no lame; hot derogating from these skilful men present, I 
dare affirm that these objections had been answered to the 
full : and I make no doubt but that those few of the former 
rime which live yet (being some of them Bachelors of Music ; 
and others, which assume unto themselves to be no less 
worthy) will be as forward to preserve their reputation. 
Perhaps you will ask me, why I, that have travelled many 
countries and ought to bave some experience, do not undergo 
this business myself? I answer, that I want ability, being 
now entered into the fiftieth year of mine age; secondly, I 
want both means, leisure, and encouragement. 
But, gentle Reader[ to conclude, though abruptly. This 
work of mine, which I have here published, containeth such 
things as I myself bave thought well of, as being, in mine 
opinion, furnished xvith variety of matter, both of judgement 
and delight : which willingly I refer to the friendly censure 
and approbation of the skilful; hoping it will be no less 
delightful to all in general, than it was pleasing to me in 
the composition. Farewell. 
Your friend, 
JOHN DOWLAND. 



648 LYRICS, ELEGIES, &C. l¢RO[v'd' ff'D°''a"'oct. 

L.yrics 

Canzonets, c. 

Madrials, 

 P ILqlîl Nl';  OLACE. 

ISDAIN me still, that I may ever love ! 
For who his Love enjoys, can love no 
more. !prove. 
The war once past, xvith ease rnen cowards 
_And ships returned, do rot upon the 
shore. [art rnost fair! " 
And though thou frown, I'll say " Thou 
And still I'll love ! though still I rnust despair. 

As Heat to Life, so is Desire to Love : 
And these once quenched, both life and love are gone ; 
Let hot rny sighs nor tears thy virtue rnove ! 
Like baser rnetals, do not rnelt too soon ! 
Laugh at rny woes, although I ever rnourn ! 
Love surfeits with Reward ! his nurse is Scorn ! 

To my worthy friezd Master IV z L L Z A M  ï IV E L, 
of Exeter College in Oxford. 
IWEET ! stay awhile ! why will you rise ? 
The light you see, cornes from your eyes ! 
The day breaks not, it is rny heart, 
To think that you and I rnust part ! 
O stay ! or else rny joys rnust die, 
And perish in their infancy ! 

Dear ! let rne die in this fair breast ! 
Far sweeter than the Phoenix nest. 
Love! raise Desire by his sweet charms, 
"Vithin this circle of thine arrns ! 



Ed. byJ. Dowmnd.-I ADRIGALS, CANZONETS, C. 
Oct. x6xx./ 
And let thy blissful kisses cherish 
Mine infant joys! that else must perish ! 

649 

O ASK for ail thy love, and thy whole heart, 
'twere madness ! 
I do hot sue 
Nor can adroit, 
Fairest ! from you 
To have all ! 
Yet who giveth all, hath nothing to impart 
but sadness ! 
He that receiveth all, can have no more 
than seeing. 
My love, by length 
Of every hour, 
Gathers new strength ! 
Nexv growth ! nev flower ! 
You must have daily new revards in store, 
still being. 
You cannot, every day, give me your heart 
for merit ! 
Yet, if you will, 
When yours doth go, 
¥ou shall have still 
One to bestow ! 
For you shall mine, when yours doth part, 
inherit ! 
Yet, if you please, l'Il find a better way, 
than change them. 
For so, alone, 
Dearest ! we shall 
Be one ! and one 
Another's all ! 
Let us so join our hearts, that nothing may 
estrange them ! 



650 LYRICS, ELEGIES, ¢C. FROM [Ea.,byJ. l)o,,a.. Oct. 

()VE ! those beams that breed, all day long breed and 
[ 1 feed this burning, 
J tl#'j[ LOVE ! I quench with floods, floods of tears, nightly 
tears and morning. 
I3ut, alas, tears cool this tire in v